{"text": " \nLife Sciences and Chemical Patent Practice in Canada: A Practical Guide\n\nThird Edition\n\nSmashwords Edition\n\n2011\n\nBorden Ladner Gervais LLP\n\nCanada\n\nLife Sciences and Chemical Patent Practice in Canada: A Practical Guide\n\n(Third Edition)\n\nCopyright © 2011 Borden Ladner Gervais LLP\n\nAll rights reserved. Although this is a free book, it remains the copyrighted property of the authors, and may not be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, copied, or transmitted in any form without prior written permission of the authors. If you found this book to be useful, please encourage others to download a copy.\n\nPublished in 2011 by Borden Ladner Gervais LLP\n\nISBN 978-0-9730750-8-3\n\nFirst edition, February 2002.\n\nRevised first edition, September 2003.\n\nSecond edition, October 2008.\n\nThe information in this publication is of a general nature, and should not be regarded as legal, accounting, or other professional advice. Intellectual Property law is complex and developing rapidly, and must be considered in the circumstances of each individual transaction, case, or issue. If legal or other expert advice or assistance is required, the services of a competent professional should be sought.\n\nCalgary | Montréal | Ottawa | Toronto | Vancouver | Waterloo Region  \nBorden Ladner Gervais LLP is an Ontario Limited Liability Partnership.  \nLawyers | Patent & Trade-mark Agents  \nblg.com\n\nAbout the Cover\n\n_Charis Tsevis_\n\nThe Maple Leaf Design was created by Charis Tsevis, who is based in Athens, Greece. He serves global clients and he frequently contributes to prominent publications with articles on design theory, aesthetics, and cyberculture. His work has been awarded at Epica, NPSA, and Ed-Awards in the United States and Europe. Charis Tsevis has studied design and advertising in Athens and Milan and he now teaches Typography and Editorial Design at AKTO College.\n\n**CONTENTS**\n\nForeword\n\nAuthors and Contributors\n\nPart I: General Patent Practice in Canada\n\nChapter 1: Overview of the Canadian Patent System\n\nChapter 2: Procedural Requirements\n\nChapter 3: Biotechnology-Specific Procedural Requirements\n\nPart II: Life Sciences and Chemical Subject Matter\n\nChapter 4: Chemical Compounds\n\nChapter 5: Biopolymers: DNA, RNA, and Proteins\n\nChapter 6: Antibodies\n\nChapter 7: Living Matter (Life Forms)\n\nChapter 8: Medical Treatments and Medical Uses\n\nChapter 9: Bioinformatics, Diagnostic Technologies, and Biomarkers\n\nChapter 10: Plant Breeders' Rights\n\nPart III: Regulatory Issues\n\nChapter 11: Patented Medicines (Notice of Compliance) Regulations\n\nChapter 12: Patented Medicine Prices Review Board\n\nChapter 13: Subsequent Entry Biologics\n\nPart IV: Patent Challenges\n\nChapter 14: Infringement, Validity, and Post-Grant Modifications\n\n**FOREWORD**\n\nAlmost a decade has elapsed since the first edition of this book was printed. Initially, our aim was to assist our clients in navigating the then largely uncharted territory of life sciences and chemistry patent practice in Canada.\n\nTen years on, the lay of the land is clearer in many respects: we have definitive decisions from the courts in certain technologies, such as the exclusion of higher life forms from patentability. The Canadian Patent Office has also devoted an entire chapter in its _Manual of Patent Office Practice_ ( _MOPOP_ ) to biotechnology inventions.\n\nAt the same time, the need for a practical guide has never been greater. Most legal precedents for inventions in the life sciences and chemistry concern patent applications filed in the 1980s and early 1990s: a time of great technological change, to be sure, but one in which not even a single bacterial genome had been fully sequenced. The practice guidance provided within _MOPOP_ on the basis of precedent necessarily suffers from a technological lag when applied to today's inventions. This lag often leaves inventors and their advocates to fend for themselves amidst sometimes contradictory guidance. We aspire to highlight best practices for life sciences and chemical inventions in Canada in a way that may not be embedded in Patent Office policy. As far as we are aware, there is no comparable text available in Canada.\n\nEarlier editions of this book were, in some instances, the first exposure to intellectual property for our own junior colleagues and patent agent trainees, some of whom have become contributors to this edition.\n\nNow in its third edition, our book is directed toward patent agents/attorneys and lawyers, agent trainees, in-house patent counsel, technology transfer officers, and inventors specializing in the life sciences and chemistry. We aim to outline the features of Canadian patent practice that are most relevant to our clients and associates in Canada and around the world.\n\nThis book comprises four parts:\n\n**Part I** outlines general patent practice in Canada. An overview of the Canadian patent system is provided, together with highlights of the procedural requirements for patent procurement in Canada. Requirements specific to inventions in the life sciences and chemistry are featured.\n\n**Part II** deals with specific subject matter areas, including chemical compounds, antibodies, and life forms, to name just a few. Within each category, exemplary claim formats are provided.\n\n**Part III** is devoted to regulatory issues, including the _Patented Medicines (Notice of Compliance) Regulations_ , the Patented Medicine Prices Review Board, and Subsequent Entry Biologics.\n\n**Part IV** deals with challenges to issued patents. Claim construction, infringement, and validity are discussed, as are third-party challenges to patents and pending applications in the Patent Office.\n\nWe update this publication regularly. As always, we would appreciate any feedback from you, the reader, with a view to improving future editions. We hope that you will find this updated edition to possess sufficient disclosure and adequate utility.\n\n**AUTHORS AND CONTRIBUTORS**\n\n _  \nTimothy Bailey_\n\n**Timothy Bailey** (tbailey@blg.com) is lawyer and associate in the Toronto office. Tim completed a B.Sc. and Ph.D. in Physiology at The University of Western Ontario. His doctoral research focused on examining the influence of mechanical ventilation on the pulmonary surfactant system using a number of _in vivo_ , _ex vivo_ , biochemical, biophysical, and imaging techniques. Tim is a graduate of the Faculty of Law at the University of Alberta. Tim was admitted to the Alberta Bar in 2009 and the Ontario Bar in 2011.\n\n _  \nGraeme Boocock_\n\n**Graeme Boocock** (gboocock@blg.com) is a technical advisor and associate in the Ottawa office. He received an B.Sc. (Honours) with High Distinction in Molecular Genetics and Molecular Biology from the University of Toronto (1999). He went on to complete a Ph.D. in Molecular and Medical Genetics (2006) at U of T, during which time he was based at the Hospital for Sick Children. His doctoral research culminated in discovery of the gene that is mutated in Shwachman-Diamond syndrome, a rare p releukemic disease of childhood. He then worked for three years as post-doctoral fellow in protein engineering at the MRC Laboratory of Molecular Biology in Cambridge (U.K.). Graeme specializes in biotechnology and life sciences inventions.\n\n _  \nDaniel Brinza_\n\n**Daniel Brinza** (dbrinza@blg.com) is an associate in the Toronto office. He is a graduate of the University of Toronto Law School, and was admitted to the Ontario Bar in 2008. Prior to attending law school, Daniel worked for six years as a process development engineer with a large Canadian pharmaceutical company. In addition to regulatory and research and development work in the pharma field, his past experience encompasses environmental applications, systems engineering, as well as legal research pertaining to health law, renewable energy, and biotechnology issues. Daniel has an undergraduate degree in Chemical Engineering and a Master of Applied Sciences from the University of Ottawa. Daniel is fluent in Romanian and reads French and Russian.\n\n _  \nAlaka Chatterjee_\n\n**Alaka Chatterjee** (achatterjee@blg.com) is a partner in the Vancouver office. She received her Ph.D. in Biochemistry from Tufts University, Boston, in 1996 and pursued post-doctoral studies in cell cycle regulation at a Boston-area biotechnology company and in insulin-mediated cell signalling at the Joslin Diabetes Center, Harvard Medical School. Alaka has been called to the British Columbia and Massachusetts bars and is a registered patent agent in Canada and the United States. She specializes in preparing and prosecuting patent applications in the biotechnology, biomedical, pharmaceutical, agriculture, forestry, and mining sectors and advises clients on international patent portfolio management and strategies, as well as on patentability, infringement, validity, and freedom to operate issues.\n\n _  \nChristine Collard_\n\n**Christine J. Collard** (ccollard@blg.com) is a partner in the Ottawa office. She graduated with B.Sc. and LL.B. degrees from the University of New Brunswick and was called to the Ontario Bar in 1995. She was registered as a trade-mark agent in 1995 and as a Canadian patent agent in 1997. Christine specializes in protecting technology in the areas of oil and gas, mining, pharmaceuticals, life sciences, medical devices, and industrial chemicals. Christine's practice also includes intellectual property litigation including freedom to operate, validity, and infringement matters.\n\n _  \nDavid Conn_\n\n**David Conn** (dconn@blg.com) is a partner in the Ottawa office. He graduated from the University of Edinburgh with a B.Sc. (Honours) in Genetics and an M.B.A. from Dalhousie University. He went on to complete his Ph.D. in Genetics at Imperial College at the University of London. He was registered as a Canadian patent agent in 1986. David specializes in chemical and biotechnology related subject matter.\n\n _  \nKirsten Crain_\n\n**Kirsten Crain** (kcrain@blg.com) is a partner in the Ottawa office. Kirsten graduated from the Faculty of Law at McGill University with an LL.B. in 1999 (Dean's Honours List). Prior to law school, Kirsten obtained a B.A. in Economics from McGill University and an M.Sc. from the London School of Economics. Kirsten was called to the Ontario Bar in 2001. Kirsten's practice is focused on complex commercial cases, health sector litigation, pharmaceutical regulatory proceedings before the Patented Medicine Prices Review Board, and intellectual property litigation.\n\n _  \nJoachim Fritz_\n\n**Joachim Fritz** (jfritz@blg.com) is a partner in the Ottawa office. Joachim received a Qualifying Diploma in Sciences from the University of Ulm (Germany). He graduated from the University of Ottawa with a B.Sc. (Honours) in Biology _magna cum laude_. He was registered as a Canadian patent agent in 1992. Joachim is multilingual and provides services in English, French, and German. He is the National Leader of the Intellectual Property and Technology Group.\n\n _  \nSteven Kennedy_\n\n**Steven Kennedy** (skennedy@blg.com) is a lawyer and registered trade-mark agent in the Ottawa office. He was called to the Ontario Bar in 2009 after graduating _cum laude_ from the University of Ottawa Faculty of Law (Common Law Section) with a Law & Technology option. At law school, Steven worked as a senior editor with the _Ottawa Law Review_ and served on the executive committee. He received a B.Sc. in Physics (with Distinction) from McGill University in 2004. His practice focuses on trade-mark prosecution as well as commercial and intellectual property litigation, with an emphasis on patent and trade-mark disputes.\n\n _  \nKathleen Marsman_\n\n**Kathleen Marsman** (kmarsman@blg.com) is a patent agent in the Ottawa office. She received a B.Sc. in Biochemistry (Honours) from the University of Waterloo, and holds M.Sc. and Ph.D. degrees in Nutrition and Metabolism from the University of Alberta. Kathleen became registered as a Canadian patent agent in 1999 and as a U.S. patent agent in 2001. Kathleen specializes in drafting and prosecuting patent applications, and advising on patent strategy, patent infringement and validity, and freedom-to-operate in all areas of the life sciences, with emphasis on biotechnology and pharmaceutical inventions. Her client base includes university and institutional technology transfer offices, as well as biotechnology and pharmaceutical companies.\n\n _  \nBarbara McIsaac_\n\n**Barbara McIsaac** (bmcisaac@blg.com) is counsel in the Ottawa office, where she advises private sector clients, governments, and government agencies on issues relating to public procurements, Charter and human rights issues, legislative mandates, jurisdiction, and the conduct of investigations. Barbara is recognized as one of the leading Canadian practitioners in the areas of procurement law and privacy and access to information law and is co-author of _The Law of Privacy in Canada_ (Carswell, 2000). She also advises on general regulatory compliance issues including matters relating to compliance with the Patented Medicine Prices Review Board. She served as senior counsel to the Somalia Inquiry and senior counsel for the Government of Canada for the Arar Inquiry. Barbara received her LL.B. from Queen's University in 1973 and was called to the Ontario Bar in 1975. She was appointed Queen's Counsel in 1989.\n\n _  \nJamie Mills_\n\n**Jamie Mills** (jmills@blg.com) is a partner in the Ottawa office. Jamie practises in all areas of IP law, including the prosecution and litigation of patents, trade-marks, and copyrights, with a primary focus on defending the patent rights of the innovative pharmaceutical and biopharmaceutical industry. In this regard, he has appeared as an advocate before the Federal Courts in Canada, the Ontario courts, the Patent Appeal Board, and the Trade-marks Opposition Board. He has also appeared numerous times on behalf of the industry and individual pharmaceutical and biopharmaceutical companies before government agencies and politicians, including committees of the Canadian Parliament. Jamie also has significant experience in providing advice to the industry in respect of pharmaceutical regulatory matters, Internet pharmacy, the listing of patents on the Patent Register, data protection in Canada, and Canada's pricing regime for pharmaceuticals administered by the Patented Medicine Prices Review Board.\n\n _  \nBeverley Moore_\n\n**Beverley Moore** (bmoore@blg.com) is an associate in the Ottawa office. Beverley specializes in the area of intellectual property, with an emphasis on patent litigation and applications under the _PMNOC Regulations_. Beverley regularly advises clients on regulatory issues such as patent listing, portfolio management, and the Register of Innovative Drugs. Beverley has appeared before the Federal Court and Federal Court of Appeal on behalf of innovative pharmaceutical companies in patent infringement actions, applications under the _NOC Regulations_ , damages proceedings under the _PMNOC Regulations_ , and judicial reviews of decisions of the Minister of Health. She is also a frequent writer and speaker in areas of patent law, the _PMNOC Regulations_ , regulatory issues, and issues surrounding Subsequent Entry Biologics.\n\n _  \nDavid Nauman_\n\n**David Nauman** (dnauman@blg.com) is a patent agent in the Ottawa office. He received a B.Sc. in Chemical Engineering in 1997 from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology and a Ph.D. in Organic Chemistry from the University of California, Berkeley. After his doctoral studies, he worked at the Children's Hospital of Eastern Ontario Research Institute and at a start-up biotech company in Ottawa. David specializes in drafting and prosecuting patent applications and advising on patent infringement and validity issues in the fields of chemistry, pharmaceuticals, molecular biology, and biotechnology.\n\n _  \nJ. Erin Pisko_\n\n**J. Erin Pisko** (episko@blg.com) is a patent agent and partner in the Vancouver office. Erin received a B.Sc. in Civil Engineering with a concentration in Environmental Engineering from Carleton University in 1995 and an M.Sc. in Engineering from the University of Calgary in 1998. Erin's research was focused in the areas of environmental engineering and biochemical engineering. She has spent eight years working in-house at several Vancouver-based biotech companies both developing and managing intellectual property portfolios. Erin is a Canadian patent agent and is registered as a U.S. patent agent to act on behalf of Canadian residents. She specializes in drafting and prosecuting patent applications, and advising on patent infringement and validity issues in life sciences, clean-tech, mining, and forestry-related technologies.\n\n _  \nScott Pundsack_\n\n**Scott Pundsack** (spundsack@blg.com) is a partner in the Toronto office. He was admitted to the Ontario Bar in 1997 and has practised exclusively in the field of intellectual property since 1995. Scott is a registered patent and trade-mark agent, with a background in civil engineering. He won the Maybee Award for the highest mark in the Canadian patent agents' exam in his year of qualification. Scott is also a U.S. citizen and has passed the U.S. patent exam, qualifying him to represent international clients in U.S. patent and design cases (including re-issue and re-examination applications and appeals).\n\n _  \nJennifer Raoul_\n\n**Jennifer Raoul** (jraoul@blg.com) is a patent agent in the Ottawa office. She received her Ph.D. in Pharmacology from Dalhousie University in 2004. During her graduate studies, Jennifer conducted a research rotation at a leading pharmaceutical company. She specializes in drafting and prosecuting patent applications in the areas of pharmaceuticals, biotechnology, therapeutics, and diagnostics. She advises clients on infringement and validity issues, freedom to operate, IP due diligence, global IP protection strategies, and portfolio management. Jennifer also advises clients on patent issues pertaining to Canada's regulatory regimes affecting patented medicines in Canada.\n\n _  \nChantal Saunders_\n\n**Chantal Saunders** (csaunders@blg.com) is a partner in the Ottawa office. Chantal specializes in the area of intellectual property, with an emphasis on patent litigation and particularly pharmaceutical litigation under the _PMNOC Regulations_. Her practice also involves copyright and trade-mark infringement litigation, and _Access to Information Act_ matters. She has appeared before the Federal Courts on patent and copyright matters. Chantal also advises clients with respect to data protection, and issues arising in respect of the Patent Register and the Patented Medicine Prices Review Board.\n\n _  \nGail Silver_\n\n**Gail Silver** (gsilver@blg.com) is a partner and patent agent in the Ottawa office. She received her Ph.D. in Bioinorganic Chemistry from the University of California, San Diego in 1993 and then pursued post-doctoral studies at the Muséum National d'Histoire Naturelle in Paris on gene therapy. Gail specializes in drafting and prosecuting patent applications in the fields of chemistry, pharmacology, medical polymers, and biotechnology, and advises on patent infringement and validity issues. Gail is a member of the Intellectual Property Institute of Canada and serves on its Joint Liaison Committee for patents.\n\n _  \nMhairi Skinner_\n\n**Mhairi Skinner** (mskinner@blg.com) is a technical advisor and associate in the Ottawa office. She obtained a B.Sc. (Honours) from the University of Guelph in 1994. She pursued her graduate studies at the University of Guelph and received her Ph.D. in Molecular Biology and Genetics in 1999. Following graduate school, Mhairi co-founded a biotechnology company in the area of cancer therapeutics. She worked as an editor at Nature Publishing Group, as a consultant to the National Institute of Health (National Cancer Institute), and as an adjunct professor at the University of Guelph.\n\n _  \nAndrew Sojonky_\n\n**Andrew Sojonky** (asojonky@blg.com) is a partner and patent agent in the Ottawa office. He graduated with honours in Materials and Metallurgical Engineering from Queen's University. Andrew specializes in patent procurement in chemical and mechanical technologies including oil and gas (upstream and downstream, including oil sands extraction), carbon capture and sequestration, chemistry, material science, metallurgy, clean tech, and medical devices. He also provides opinions as to patentability, validity, and infringement, and offers counsel in global patent strategy and portfolio management.\n\n _  \nChris Watson_\n\n**Chris Watson** (cwatson@blg.com) is a lawyer, patent, and trade-mark agent in the Toronto office. Chris received his LL.B. from the University of Windsor in 2001 and was called to the Ontario Bar in 2002. Prior to law school, Chris obtained a B.A.Sc. in Civil Engineering at the University of Waterloo in 1998. Chris's patent practice focuses on drafting and prosecuting patent applications for chemical manufacturing processes and related equipment, various green technologies, and medical and surgical devices.\n\n _  \nDavid Wood_\n\n**David Wood** (dwood@blg.com) is a lawyer in the Calgary office. He was admitted to the Alberta Bar in 2009. David is now training to become a patent agent. David completed his Ph.D. (Biochemistry) and LL.B. at the University of Saskatchewan in 2005 and 2008, respectively. David's doctoral research focused on characterization of an interaction between DNA and metal ions. David has experience in drafting and prosecuting patent applications, preparing validity and infringement opinions, assisting with patent and trade-mark litigation, and advising securities counsel on transactions involving patents and patent applications. David's experience is in technical fields including oil and gas, particularly heavy oil and bitumen, chemistry, biotechnology, and pharmaceuticals.\n\nOTHER CONTRIBUTORS\n\nThe authors would like to thank Andrea Pitts, Benjamin Reingold, and Ryan Steeves for their contributions to this edition.\n\nContributors to previous editions include David Barrans, Susan Beaubien, Katherine Britt, Andrew Hicks, Ravinder Jain, Jean-François Jutras, Kevin LaRoche, Jennifer Ledwell, Martin Marcus, John Paxton, Juila Pomeroy, and Sorhab Sabet.\n\n**PART I**\n\nGENERAL PATENT PRACTICE IN CANADA\n\n**CHAPTER 1**\n\nOVERVIEW OF THE CANADIAN PATENT SYSTEM\n\n1.1 CANADIAN PATENT LAW\n\nCanadian patent law is established under Canadian legislation and case law. In particular, Canadian patent law is established under the _Patent Act_ [1] and _Patent Rules_ ,[2] as well as other legislation as discussed in subsequent chapters in this book. Also, the Canadian Intellectual Property Office (CIPO) has published a _Manual of Patent Office Practice_ ( _MOPOP_ ) which establishes procedures and practices relating to the filing and prosecution of patent applications filed with CIPO (Canadian applications).[3] _MOPOP_ is a guide, and should not be relied on as an authority.\n\nCanadian applications are published 18 months after the earlier of the filing date of the Canadian application or the earliest claim date (see below).[4] The maximum term for patents issuing from Canadian applications is 20 years from the filing date.[5] Maintenance fees are payable on an annual basis for all Canadian applications, beginning on the second anniversary of the filing date, and on all patents issuing therefrom (Canadian patents).[6] Failure to pay maintenance fees may result in a loss of rights.[7]\n\nThe issues in this chapter will be discussed in detail in subsequent chapters.\n\n1.2 CLAIM DATE\n\nEach claim in a Canadian application has a claim date. By default, the claim date is the filing date of the Canadian application.[8] However, in accordance with Canada's membership in the Paris Convention, NAFTA, and the WTO, the _Patent Act_ provides conditions under which a claim date may be earlier than the filing date of the Canadian application.[9] A claim in an application for a Canadian patent is considered to have a claim date earlier than the Canadian filing date where the following conditions are met: a patent application was previously filed in a country that is a member of one of the above agreements,[10] the previously filed application discloses the subject matter of the claim, the Canadian application is filed within one year after the filing date of the previously-filed application, and the applicant requests priority on the basis of the previously filed application.[11] Where these conditions are met, the claim date is the filing date of the previously filed application, and is commonly referred to as the \"priority date.\"[12] Thus, in effect, s. 28.1 of the _Patent Act_ allows one or more claims of a Canadian application to have a claim date that is up to one year prior to the filing date of the Canadian application.\n\nAn applicant may request priority on the basis of multiple previously filed applications in respect of a single Canadian application, provided that the above conditions are met for each previously filed application.[13] Claims in the Canadian application may have different claim dates from each other. The claim date of a given claim in the Canadian application will be determined by which of the previously filed applications discloses the subject matter of the claim, and is not necessarily the earliest filing date of the previously filed applications.[14] The claim dates of different claims may be significant when assessing novelty and inventiveness of the claimed subject matter in view of a disclosure that occurred following the earliest filing date of the previously filed applications but prior to the Canadian filing date.\n\n1.3 PATENTABILITY REQUIREMENTS\n\n1.3.1 Definition of Invention\n\nIn Canada, \"invention\" means \"any new and useful art, process, machine, manufacture or composition of matter, or any new and useful improvement in any art, process, machine, manufacture or composition of matter.\"[15]\n\nIn assessing whether subject matter falls within the meaning of invention under this definition, the criteria established by the Canadian courts and the _Patent Act_ , are as follows:[16]\n\na. whether the subject matter relates to a useful art as distinct from a fine art where the result produced is solely the exercise of personal skill, mental reasoning or judgment, or has only intellectual meaning or aesthetic appeal;\n\nb. whether the subject matter is operable, controllable, and reproducible by the means described by the inventor so that the desired result will inevitably follow whenever the subject matter is put into practice;\n\nc. whether the subject matter has practical application in industry, trade, or commerce; and\n\nd. whether the subject matter is more than a mere scientific principle or abstract theorem.\n\nThe terms \"art,\" \"process,\" \"machine,\" \"manufacture,\" and \"composition of matter\" are not defined in the _Patent Act_ or _Patent Rules_. However, court decisions provide some clarification on patentable subject matter. For example, methods of medical treatment are, in a strict sense, outside of the definition of invention and are not patentable in Canada.[17] However, a medical device and its method of operation may be patentable. Higher life forms, including plants and animals, are not patentable subject matter.[18] However, claims to a plant cell may be enforceable against an infringer possessing an entire plant.[19] Further discussions as to the patentability of subject matter within the biotechnology and chemical arts, as well as acceptable claim formats, are provided in later chapters.\n\n1.3.2 Novelty Requirements\n\nThe _Patent Act_ has novelty requirements for subject matter to be claimed in a patent. The subject matter of a claim must not have been disclosed such that it was made available to the public prior to the claim date.[20] A one-year grace period is allowed for subject matter disclosed to the public by the applicant or someone obtaining knowledge directly or indirectly from the applicant.[21] The one-year grace period extends back from the Canadian filing date.[22] It does not extend back from the claim date where the claim date is earlier than the filing date.[23] Therefore, when a public disclosure is made by a soon-to-be applicant, a patent application must be filed with CIPO within one year of the disclosure in order for a claim to the subject matter to be novel in view of the disclosure. If the Canadian application is filed after the one-year grace period has expired, the disclosure is applicable as prior art against the Canadian application.\n\nFor patent applications filed under the Patent Cooperation Treaty (PCT), the PCT international filing date is deemed to be the Canadian filing date.[24] The applicable grace period extends back from the PCT international filing date and not the date of the application's national phase entry into Canada.\n\nWhile the requirement for novelty is imposed by the _Patent Act_ , the test for whether a given public disclosure or a Canadian application with an earlier claim date is anticipatory of subject matter is defined by case law. Disclosure of subject matter in a way described in s. 28.2 precludes claiming the subject matter only where the disclosure both discloses and enables the subject matter.[25]\n\n1.3.3 Inventive Ingenuity/Non-Obviousness\n\nThe Canadian patent system has inventiveness requirements for subject matter to be claimed in a patent. Section 28.3 of the _Patent Act_ requires that the subject matter not have been obvious on the claim date to a person skilled in the art to which it pertains. As with the provisions of the _Patent Act_ requiring novelty, a one-year grace period extending back from the filing date applies to disclosures by the applicant or someone obtaining knowledge directly or indirectly from the applicant.[26]\n\nWhile requirements for inventiveness are imposed by the _Patent Act_ , the test for whether subject matter is obvious in view of a given public disclosure or combination of disclosures is defined by case law. The test for obviousness has four steps. First, the applicable person skilled in the art and the relevant common general knowledge of such person on the claim date are identified. Second, the inventive concept of the claim in question is identified. Third, the differences between the state of the art and the inventive concept are identified. Fourth, the question of whether the differences would have been obvious to the person skilled in the art on the claim date is answered.[27] In technical fields where advances are won by experimentation, the question of whether the subject matter of a claim is \"obvious to try\" may be considered at the fourth stage of the obviousness analysis.\n\n1.3.4 Utility Requirements\n\nTo be an invention within the meaning of section 2 of the _Patent Act_ , subject matter must possess utility. This can be either demonstrated or soundly predicted as of the Canadian filing date.[28] If relying on a sound prediction, the patent must disclose both the factual basis underlying the prediction and the sound line of reasoning to the prediction.[29]\n\nUtility is generally assessed on a claim-by-claim basis. However, if the invention does not work for the purpose set out in the Canadian patent, then the lack of utility for that specified purpose invalidates the patent as a whole.[30] A Canadian patent cannot be granted for something that is inoperable for the purpose for which it was designed. A patentee must bear this in mind when considering the scope of the claims to be submitted in a patent application to avoid claiming any subject matter that does not work for the purpose set out in the specification. Any such claim may be deemed invalid. There is, however, no obligation on the patentee to claim the utility of the invention.[31]\n\n1.3.5 Sufficiency of Disclosure\n\nSection 27(3) of the _Patent Act_ provides that the specification of an invention must correctly and fully describe the invention and its operation or use in such full, clear, concise, and exact terms as to enable any person skilled in the art or science to which it pertains to make, construct, or use it.\n\nThe skilled person must be able to understand how the subject matter of the patent is to be made or performed by reading the specification. The specification must set out the invention in sufficient detail to allow the skilled person to put it into practice. Where insufficient information is provided in the specification, the claims may be found unpatentable or invalid.[32]\n\n1.3.6 Ambiguity\n\nSection 27(4) of the _Patent Act_ requires that the specification end with a claim or claims defining distinctly and in explicit terms the subject matter of the invention for which an exclusive privilege or property is claimed. In _Minerals Separation North American Corp. v. Noranda Mines Ltd._ ,[33] the Exchequer Court held that, to be valid, claims must be free from avoidable ambiguity or obscurity.\n\n1.3.7 Scope of Invention\n\nSection 84 of the _Patent Rules_ requires that claims be clear, concise, and fully supported by the description independently of any document referred to in the description.\n\n1.4 UNITY-OF-INVENTION REQUIREMENTS\n\nA patent is granted for one invention only, although a patent will not be found invalid solely on the basis that it includes more than one invention.[34]Section 36 of the _Patent Rules_ states that an application does not claim more than one invention if the subject matter defined by the claims is so linked as to form a \"single general inventive concept.\"\n\n1.5 UNTRUE MATERIAL ALLEGATIONS, OMISSIONS, AND ADDITIONS\n\nSection 53(1) of the _Patent Act_ provides two bases under which an issued Canadian patent may be void. First, where a material allegation in the petition is untrue. Second, where the the specification and drawings contain more or less than is necessary for obtaining the patent, and the omission or addition is wilfully made for the purpose of misleading.[35]\n\nWhile intention to mislead is difficult to prove, applicants for Canadian patents are strongly encouraged to make efforts to ensure that the correct inventors are named in the petition to reduce the possibility that a s. 53(1) challenge will be brought against an issued patent. Similarly, the disclosure should be reviewed prior to filing by the applicant and a patent agent to ensure that nothing relevant to the scope of the claims is omitted and that no unnecessary additions are present.\n\n1.6 GOOD-FAITH PROSECUTION\n\nBy operation of the _Patent Act_ , pending Canadian applications are deemed abandoned where an applicant does not respond in good faith to a requisition of the examiner within a defined time period.[36] The time period is typically six months, but may be less. The Federal Court of Appeal has held that once a patent issues, it can not be invalidated pursuant to s. 73(1)(a).[37]\n\n[1] R.S.C. 1985, c. P-4 [ _Patent Act_ ].\n\n[2] S.O.R./96-423 [ _Patent Rules_ ].\n\n[3] _Manual of Patent Office Practice_ , online: The Canadian Intellectual Property Office <<http://www.ic.gc.ca/eic/site/cipointernet-internetopic.nsf/eng/h_wr00720.html>> [ _MOPOP_ ].\n\n[4] _Patent Act_ , _supra_ note 1, s. 10.\n\n[5] _Patent Act_ , _ibid._ , s. 44.\n\n[6] _Patent Act_ , _ibid._ , s. 27.1; _Patent Rules_ , _supra_ note 2, s. 99, Sch. II.\n\n[7] _Patent Act_ , _supra_ note 1, s. 73(1)(c); but see s. 73(3). For further discussion, see Chapter 2, Procedural Requirements, section 2.5.\n\n[8] _Patent Act_ , _supra_ note 1, s. 28.1(1).\n\n[9] _Patent Act_ , _ibid._ , ss. 28.1(1)(a)-(c).\n\n[10] At least one of the applicants must be a resident or citizen of a country that is a signatory to one of these agreements.\n\n[11] _Patent Act_ , _supra_ note 1, s. 28.1(2).\n\n[12] _Ibid._ ; \"priority date\" was previously a term defined in the _Patent Act_. The definition was repealed but the term remains in common use.\n\n[13] _Patent Act_ , _supra_ note 1, s. 28.4(1).\n\n[14] _Patent Act_ , _ibid._ , s. 28.1(1)(a), s. 28.4(4)(a).\n\n[15] _Patent Act_ , _ibid._ , s. 2.\n\n[16] _Tennessee Eastman Co. et al. v. Canada (Commissioner of Patents)_ (1970), 62 C.P.R. 117 (Can. Ex. Ct.), aff'd [1974] S.C.R. 111, 8 C.P.R. (2d) 202 (S.C.C.) [ _Tennessee Eastman_ ]; _Re N.V. Organon Application No. 003,389_ (1973), 15 C.P.R. (2d) 253 (P.A.B.); _Patent Act_ , _supra_ note 1, s. 27(8).\n\n[17] _Tennessee Eastman_ , _ibid._ (S.C.C.). For further discussion, see Chapter 8, Medical Treatments and Medical Uses.\n\n[18] _Harvard College v. Canada (Commissioner of Patents)_ , 2002 SCC 76, 21 C.P.R. (4th) 417. For further discussion, see Chapter 7, Living Matter (Life Forms).\n\n[19] _Monsanto Canada Inc. v. Schmeiser_ , 2004 SCC 34, 31 C.P.R. (4th) 161.\n\n[20] _Patent Act_ , _supra_ note 1, ss. 28.2(1)(a)-(b).\n\n[21] _Patent Act_ , _ibid._ , s. 28.2(1)(a).\n\n[22] _Ibid._\n\n[23] _Ibid._\n\n[24] _Patent Rules_ , _supra_ note 2, s. 64.\n\n[25] _Sanofi-Synthelabo Canada Inc. v. Apotex Inc._ , 2008 SCC 61, 69 C.P.R. (4th) 251 [ _Sanofi_ ].\n\n[26] _Patent Act_ , _supra_ note 1, s. 28.3.\n\n[27] _Sanofi_ , _supra_ note 25.\n\n[28] _Apotex Inc. v. Wellcome Foundation Ltd._ , 2002 SCC 77, 21 C.P.R. (4th) 499.\n\n[29] _Ibid._\n\n[30] _TRW Inc. v. Walbar of Canada Inc._ (1991), 50 F.T.R. 160, 39 C.P.R. (3d) 176 (F.C.A.).\n\n[31] _Eli Lilly & Co. v. Apotex Inc._, 2009 FC 991, 80 C.P.R. (4th) 1, aff'd 2010 FCA 240, 90 C.P.R. (4th) 327.\n\n[32] _Minerals Separation North American Corp. v. Noranda Mines Ltd._ , [1950] S.C.R. 36, 12 C.P.R. 99 (S.C.C.).\n\n[33] _Minerals Separation North American Corp. v. Noranda Mines Ltd._ (1947), Ex. C.R. 306, 12 C.P.R. 99 at 102 (Ex. Ct. Can.).\n\n[34] _Patent Act_ , _supra_ note 1, s. 36(1). For further discussion of invention requirements in the context of divisional applications, see Chapter 2, _supra_ note 7, section 2.2.\n\n[35] _Patent Act_ , _supra_ note 1, s. 53(1).\n\n[36] _Patent Act_ , _supra_ note 1, s. 73(1)(a).\n\n[37] _Weatherford Canada Ltd. v. Corlac Inc._ , 2011 FCA 228, 2011 CarswellNat 2835, rev'g 2010 FC 602, 84 C.P.R. (4th) 237.\n\n**CHAPTER 2**\n\nPROCEDURAL REQUIREMENTS\n\n2.1 FILING REQUIREMENTS\n\nThe Canadian _Patent Act_ requires the filing of a minimum of documents to obtain a filing date for a patent application. For all applications filed after October 1, 1996, the minimum requirements include:[1]\n\na. a written statement in either English or French that a patent is being sought;\n\nb. a document in either English or French that, on its face, describes the invention;\n\nc. the name of the applicant;\n\nd. the address of the applicant or the applicant's patent agent; and\n\ne. the application fee.\n\nThe document describing the invention corresponds to the specification but it need not include claims. At filing, the Patent Office does not examine the document to determine the merits of the invention. It makes only a cursory review of the document's form rather than its substance. The inventor or inventors need not be identified at the time of filing to meet the minimum requirements. When only the minimum requirements are met, the application is termed \"incomplete.\" An incomplete application does not need to be converted to a \"regular\" patent application. Rather, additional documents simply have to be filed with the Patent Office within 15 months from the earlier of the earliest claimed priority date and the Canadian filing date. The documents required to complete the application are as follows:[2]\n\na. a petition;\n\nb. a statement that the applicant is the inventor, or a declaration that the applicant is the legal representative of the inventor (\"legal representative\" is defined in s. 2 of the _Patent Act_ as including \"heirs, executors, administrators, guardians, curators, tutors, assigns and all other persons claiming through or under applicants for patents and patentees of inventions\");\n\nc. an abstract of the invention;\n\nd. claim(s) to the invention;\n\ne. any drawing mentioned in the description;\n\nf. a biological deposit number, if applicable; and\n\ng. a sequence listing, if applicable.\n\nPatent Cooperation Treaty (PCT) applications entering the national phase in Canada are governed by slightly different rules. On entering the national phase, an applicant for a PCT application must provide the Patent Office with a copy of the international application, if it has not been published by the World Intellectual Property Organization (WIPO); a translation of the application into either English or French, if necessary; and payment of the prescribed national entry fee.[3] As an alternative to providing the declaration that the applicant is the legal representative of the inventor, the applicant may submit a declaration as to the applicant's entitlement, as at the filing date, to apply for and be granted a patent, in accordance with rule 4.17 of the Regulations under the PCT.[4] The applicant is also required to pay any outstanding maintenance fees.[5] The deadline to enter the national phase in Canada and satisfy these requirements for a PCT application is 30 months after the priority date. The applicant may, however, be given an additional 12-month period to enter the national phase by paying an additional late-entry fee, thereby effectively extending the deadline for entering the national phase in Canada to a total of 42 months.[6]\n\nNew subject matter cannot be added to the application at any time after the application is filed. New subject matter includes anything that is not reasonably inferable from the original specification or drawings.[7] New features in the invention, further data, further developments, or a more precise description of the invention are all considered to be new subject matter.\n\nAny new subject matter may be included in a _new_ Canadian application, which may claim priority from the earlier-filed Canadian application if it is filed within one year of the earlier-filed Canadian application.[8] These provisions allow an applicant to claim \"internal\" priority. This practice gives an applicant the opportunity to file an incomplete patent application as early as possible after an invention has been made, in order to obtain the earliest possible filing date for the disclosed subject matter. Further improvements, alterations, or additional data are included in the later-filed patent application, which then requests priority over the previously filed application. This practice allows the applicant to retain an early claim date for the subject matter disclosed in the first application while receiving a later claim date for the new subject matter. The applicant has the option of proceeding with both applications, or abandoning the first application and proceeding with only the second application. There is no limit to the number of priority claims that may be made. This practice of claiming internal priority is similar to the U.S. continuation-in-part practice with the exception that, in Canada, there is a time limit of 12 months from the first-filed application. Once the 12-month period from the first-filed application has expired, internal priority may no longer be claimed. For the later-filed application, the patent term is calculated as 20 years from the filing date of the later-filed application.\n\n2.2 DIVISIONAL APPLICATIONS AND UNITY OF INVENTION\n\nIn Canada, a divisional application may be filed at any time before the parent application issues to patent.[9] The parent application can, itself, be a divisional application. That is, in the case of an application that is divided more than once, the first divisional application may be a parent to a subsequent divisional application. Thus, the issuance of the original, or \"parent,\" application does not prevent further divisional applications from being filed, provided that there is at least one divisional application still pending in the Patent Office that describes all of the inventions. An application may be divided voluntarily by the applicant or at the insistence of the Patent Office.[10]\n\nIf the Patent Office raises a unity-of-invention objection and requires division, Canadian case law supports the proposition that because the division was required by the patent examiner, it does not constitute double patenting.[11] That is, any attack on such patents for double patenting will fail because the division was made at the request of the Patent Office. However, when an applicant initiates the filing of a divisional application without previously receiving a unity objection, a double-patenting attack is available, and has previously been successful in the courts.[12] Accordingly, it is unadvisable for an applicant to initiate the filing of a divisional application for subject matter that has not been clearly delineated as a separate invention in a unity objection. Such an application is often referred to as an applicant-initiated divisional or voluntary divisional application.\n\nUnity-of-invention requirements in Canada are quite broad and merely require a single general inventive concept. Various types of claims may be included in the same application without offending unity-of-invention requirements. CIPO considers the following combinations of claim categories to be acceptable within the same application:[13]\n\na. a product and a process for making the product;\n\nb. a product and a use of the product;\n\nc. a product, a process for making the product, and a use of the product;\n\nd. a process and an apparatus specially adapted to carry out the process;\n\ne. a product, a process for making the product, and an apparatus specially adapted to carry out the process; or\n\nf. a product, a process for making the product, an apparatus specially adapted to carry out the process, and a use of the product.\n\nAccording to _MOPOP_ , a Canadian application may include claims to a final product and claims to an intermediate product used in the preparation of the final product, but only when there is sufficient structural similarity between the two so that it can be reasonably assumed that the intermediate product was designed to prepare the final product. In order for such claims to be considered part of the same invention, the final product should be manufactured directly from the intermediate product. The intermediate product may have the same use as the final product, but it must not have other uses.[14]\n\n2.3 REQUESTS FOR EXAMINATION\n\nPatent applications are not automatically examined by the Canadian Patent Office. The applicant is required to file a request for examination and pay the prescribed fee.[15] Examination must be requested before the expiry of five years from the Canadian filing date.[16] For divisional applications, examination must be requested at the same deadline as for the parent application or, if that deadline has passed, then within six months after the date on which the divisional application is actually filed.[17] If examination is not requested by the deadline, the application will be considered abandoned.[18] An application abandoned for this reason may be reinstated within one year of the date of abandonment by the filing of a request for reinstatement and payment of a prescribed reinstatement fee, as well as by the filing of the request for examination and payment of the examination fee.[19]\n\n2.4 ACCELERATING EXAMINATION\n\nThere are currently three options for accelerating examination in Canada.\n\n2.4.1 Special Order\n\nAn applicant may request expedited examination by stating that failure to advance the application is likely to prejudice the applicant's rights, and by paying the prescribed fee.[20] Unless publication has already occurred, the applicant must also request early publication.[21]\n\n2.4.2 Patent Prosecution Highway\n\nThe Patent Prosecution Highway (PPH) program provides an alternative option for accelerating examination in Canada based on claims allowed or issued by another patent office. Currently, the Canadian Patent Office has established a PPH program with the patent offices of the United States, Japan, Korea, Germany, Spain, Denmark, Finland, and the Canadian Receiving Office of the PCT. Allowance can often be obtained within 12 months of making the request. While the basic premise of the bilateral agreements is the same, the specific requirements differ. Currently, there are no government fees.\n\n2.4.3 Green Technology\n\nIn addition, if the application relates to \"technology the commercialization of which would help to resolve or mitigate environmental impacts or to conserve the natural environment and resources,\" expedited examination is also available without a government fee.[22]\n\n2.5 MAINTENANCE FEES\n\nFor all applications filed after October 1, 1989, the applicant must pay annual maintenance fees in order to maintain the application in good standing. The first maintenance fee is due for payment on the second anniversary of the filing date and is payable every year thereafter until the patent expires. Maintenance fees may be paid up to one year after the due date with the additional payment of a late payment fee.[23]\n\nFor applications that were filed before October 1, 1989, but that issue to patent after this date, transitional provisions apply requiring maintenance fees to be paid on such patents.[24] These patents have a term of 17 years from the date of issue. Maintenance fees are payable annually from the date of issuance until the date the patent expires. Again, these fees may be paid up to one year after the due date with an additional late payment fee.\n\nIf an outstanding maintenance fee and the additional late payment fee are not paid to the Patent Office within that one-year grace period, the patent will lapse. A lapsed patent may not be revived.\n\n2.6 ABANDONMENT/REINSTATEMENT\n\nUnder the Canadian _Patent Act_ , with few exceptions, a patent application is deemed to be abandoned if the applicant does not reply in good faith to any requisition made by the Patent Office.[25] For example, an application is considered abandoned if a timely response is not filed to an Examiner's Office Action. An application is also considered abandoned if examination is not requested within the prescribed time limit, if the application is not completed within the prescribed time limit, or if the final fee is not paid within the time limit.\n\nAn abandoned application is automatically reinstated if appropriate steps are taken within one year of abandonment. To reinstate an application, the applicant must take the action that it had previously failed to take and for which the application became abandoned, make a request for reinstatement, and pay the prescribed fee for reinstatement as well as any other outstanding fees.[26] These steps must be taken with respect to each failure for which the application became abandoned. Therefore, if examination is not requested within the prescribed time limit, the application becomes abandoned. If, subsequently, the applicant does not pay the required maintenance fee, the application is also deemed abandoned for failure to pay maintenance fees. As a result, to fully reinstate the application, the applicant must:\n\na. request examination,\n\nb. pay the examination fee,\n\nc. request reinstatement from the failure to pay the examination fee,\n\nd. pay a first reinstatement fee,\n\ne. pay the outstanding maintenance fee,\n\nf. request reinstatement from the failure to pay the maintenance fee, and\n\ng. pay a second reinstatement fee.\n\nAutomatic reinstatements for abandonment apply only to applications filed after October 1, 1989; they do not apply to the few remaining applications filed before this date that are still pending.[27]\n\nThe deadline for reinstating an application is before the expiry of the 12-month period after the date on which the application becomes abandoned as a result of the failure to take action. Where the applicant fails to take action on more than one count, dates of abandonment run from each failure to take action, and not simply from the earliest.\n\n2.7 CORRECTION OF CLERICAL ERRORS\n\nSection 8 of the _Patent Act_ allows for the correction of clerical errors in any instrument of record in the Patent Office.[28] The courts have defined \"clerical error\" as an error that arises in the mechanical process of writing or transcribing.[29] A correction of a clerical error under s. 8 is at the discretion of the Commissioner of Patents.[30] Even if a clerical error is found to have occurred, the Commissioner may refuse to exercise his discretion to correct the error. The Commissioner has refused to exercise his discretion in cases where the correction had the potential to prejudice third parties and where there was a substantial delay in requesting the correction.[31]\n\n[1] _Patent Rules_ , S.O.R./96-423, s. 27.1(1) [ _Patent Rules_ ].\n\n[2] _Ibid._ , ss. 37, 94, 104.\n\n[3] _Ibid._ , s. 58(1).\n\n[4] _Ibid._ , s. 37(2).\n\n[5] _Ibid._ , s. 59(2).\n\n[6] _Ibid._ , s. 58(3).\n\n[7] _Patent Act_ , R.S.C. 1985, c. P-4, s. 38.2 [ _Patent Act_ ].\n\n[8] _Ibid._ , s. 28.1.\n\n[9] _Ibid._ , s. 36.\n\n[10] _Ibid._ , ss. 36(2)-36(2.1).\n\n[11] _Consolboard Inc. v. MacMillan Bloedel (Saskatchewan) Ltd._ , [1981] 1 S.C.R. 504, 56 C.P.R. (2d) 145.\n\n[12] _GlaxoSmithKline Inc. et al. v. Apotex Inc. et al._ (2003), 234 F.T.R. 251, 27 C.P.R. (4th) 114 (F.C.T.D.).\n\n[13] _Manual of Patent Office Practice_ , online: The Canadian Intellectual Property Office <<http://www.cipo.ic.gc.ca/eic/site/cipointernet-internetopic.nsf/eng/h_wr00720.html>>, s. 14.02 [ _MOPOP_ ].\n\n[14] _Ibid._ , s. 14.03.03.\n\n[15] _Patent Rules_ , _supra_ note 1, s. 96(1).\n\n[16] _Ibid._\n\n[17] _Ibid._ , ss. 96(2), 150(2).\n\n[18] _Patent Act_ , _supra_ note 7, s. 73(1)(d).\n\n[19] _Ibid._ , s. 73(3).\n\n[20] _Patent Rules_ , _supra_ note 1, s. 28(1).\n\n[21] _Ibid._ , s. 28(2)\n\n[22] _Ibid._ , s. 28(1).\n\n[23] _Patent Act_ , _supra_ note 7, s. 46. See _Patent Rules_ , _supra_ note 1, ss. 99-102, 154-158, Sch. II.\n\n[24] _Patent Act_ , _supra_ note 7, s. 78.2. See _Patent Rules_ , _supra_ note 1, s. 182, Sch. II.\n\n[25] _Patent Act_ , _supra_ note 7, s. 73(1).\n\n[26] _Ibid._ , s. 73(3).\n\n[27] _Patent Rules_ , _supra_ note 1, s. 26.\n\n[28] _Patent Act_ , _supra_ note 7, s. 8.\n\n[29] _Bayer Aktiengesellschaft v. Commissioner of Patents_ (1980), 53 C.P.R. (2d) 70 at 73 (F.C.T.D.).\n\n[30] _Ibid._ at 74.\n\n[31] _Dow Chemical Co. v. Canada (Attorney General)_ , 2007 FC 1236, 63 C.P.R. (4th) 89.\n\n**CHAPTER 3**\n\nBIOTECHNOLOGY-SPECIFIC PROCEDURAL REQUIREMENTS\n\n3.1 SEQUENCE LISTINGS\n\nSequence listings are required for all patent applications filed after October 1, 1996 that disclose an unbranched nucleotide sequence of 10 or more nucleotides or an unbranched amino acid sequence of four or more contiguous residues, other than a sequence identified as forming a part of the prior art.[1] It is not necessary that the sequence be claimed, only that it be included in the application and not be identified as prior art.\n\nSequence listings are not statutorily required for Canadian patent applications filed before October 1, 1996. However, the Patent Office has found it useful to allow them. No formal requirements apply, but the requirements for applications filed after October 1, 1996 are often followed in such cases.\n\nSignificant amendments to the _Patent Rules_ relating to Canadian sequence listing requirements came into force on June 2, 2007. One of the main effects of these amendments was to harmonize the Canadian format for sequence listings with the Patent Cooperation Treaty (PCT) sequence listing standard by referencing the latter in the _Patent Rules_. Thus, the Canadian standard will automatically change whenever the PCT standard changes. The amended _Patent Rules_ also harmonize the due dates for filing a sequence listing in an application that is a PCT national entry with the requirements for an application that is a non-PCT patent application. Under transitional provisions, for any applications filed before June 2, 2007, applicants may substitute the sequence listing requirements prescribed under the \"old\" _Patent Rules_ — that is, as they read immediately before June 2, 2007 — for the current sequence listing requirements. The old _Patent Rules_ for sequence listings will be discussed separately, later in the chapter.\n\n3.1.1 Current Formal Requirements\n\nUnder the current _Patent Rules_ , if an application contains disclosure of a nucleotide or amino acid sequence other than a sequence identified as forming a part of the prior art, the description shall contain, in respect of that sequence, a sequence listing in electronic form.[2] Both the sequence listing and the electronic form must comply with the PCT sequence listing standard. Accordingly, the electronic form of the sequence listing must be in ASCII text format (such as a text or \".txt\" file) and may be submitted on an electronic medium, such as a computer CD. Suitable electronic mediums include a CD, a DVD, or any format as set forth in Annex F of the _Administrative Instructions_ under the Patent Cooperation Treaty.[3] If an application originally filed without a sequence listing is amended to include a sequence listing, the applicant must file a statement to the effect that the sequence listing does not go beyond the disclosure in the application as filed.[4] If a sequence listing initially filed in paper form or in an electronic form that does not comply with the PCT sequence listing standard is subsequently replaced by a sequence listing in an electronic form that does comply with that standard, the applicant must file a statement to the effect that the replacement listing does not go beyond the disclosure in the application as filed.[5]\n\nWhere a sequence listing is required, it is treated as a completion requirement and must be filed within certain time limits to avoid paying a completion fee:\n\na. With respect to a non-PCT application, the time limit is 15 months after the filing date of the application or, if a request for priority has been made in respect of the application, 15 months after the earliest filing date of any previously regularly filed application on which the request for priority is based.[6]\n\nb. For PCT cases entering the national phase in Canada, the time limit is three months after the date of national entry.[7]\n\nIf the sequence listing is not filed within the required time limit, the Patent Office will issue a letter requisitioning the applicant to comply with the sequence listing requirements and to pay a completion fee.[8] Failure to respond to that requisition will result in abandonment of the application.\n\nThe sequence listing requires several items of information and follows a prescribed format. The PCT standard for the presentation of nucleotide and amino acid sequence listings is set forth in Annex C of the _PCT Administrative Instructions_.[9] The current PCT standard is also sometimes referred to as \"World Intellectual Property Organization (WIPO) Standard ST.25.\"\n\nThe United States Patent and Trademark Office (USPTO) offers a computer program, PatentIn, for use in preparing sequence listings. The software for this program can be downloaded by the public at no charge from the USPTO website.[10]\n\nThe formal requirements of the sequence listing can be briefly summarized as follows. Sequence listings must include the numerical data element headings and the respective information, if applicable and when available to the applicant, as set forth in Annex C, Appendix 1 of the _PCT Administrative Instructions_.[11] Amino acid and nucleotide sequences are identified in a standard format. The term \"amino acids\" refers to those L-amino acids commonly found in naturally occurring proteins and such amino acids when they have been modified.[12] \"Nucleotides\" refer to those nucleotides that can be represented using the symbols set out at the end of this chapter in Appendix A, table 3, and such nucleotides when they have been modified — for example, by the addition of methyl or thiol groups. Modified nucleotides may be identified using the symbols set out at the end of this chapter in Appendix A, Table 4.[13]\n\nAmino acids are listed in the amino to carboxy direction from left to right, and the amino and carboxy groups are not represented in the sequence. The amino acids are represented using the symbols set out in Appendix A, Table 1. Modified, non-natural, or otherwise unusual amino acids are listed in the sequence as \"Xaa\" with further information given elsewhere in the sequence listing. Modified amino acids may be defined using the symbols set out in Appendix A, Table 2. Amino acid sequences are listed with a maximum of 16 amino acids per line with a space between each amino acid. Amino acids corresponding to the codons in the coding parts of a nucleotide sequence are indicated immediately under the corresponding codons. Where a codon is split by an intron, the amino acid symbol is indicated below the portion of the codon containing two nucleotides. The enumeration of amino acids in a sequence starts at the first amino acid at the amino terminal as number 1 and is marked under the sequence of every fifth amino acid. Where a mature protein has been identified, the amino acids are enumerated starting at the first amino acid of the mature protein with number 1. The amino acids preceding the mature protein, when present, have negative numbers counting backward starting with the amino acid next to number 1. A sequence that is made up of one or more non-contiguous segments of a larger sequence or segments from different sequences is presented as a separate sequence. A sequence having gaps is numbered as a plurality of separate sequences with separate sequence identifier numbers. For example, an amino acid sequence that contains a blank or internal terminator symbols (such as \"Ter,\" \"*,\" or \".\") may not be represented as a single amino acid sequence, but shall be presented as separate amino acid sequences.[14]\n\nNucleotide sequences are presented only by a single strand in the 5' to 3' direction from left to right. Modified nucleotides are listed in the sequence as \"N\" with further information given elsewhere in the sequence listing. Modified nucleotides may be identified using the symbols set out in Appendix A, table 4. Nucleotides in a nucleotide sequence are listed in groups of 10 bases except in the coding parts of the sequence. Leftover bases, fewer than 10 in number at the end of non-coding parts of the sequence, are grouped together and separated from adjacent groups by a space. The nucleotides of the coding parts of a sequence are listed as triplets. A nucleotide sequence is listed with a maximum of 16 codons or 60 nucleotides per line, with a space between each codon or group of 10 nucleotides. Nucleotides in a sequence are enumerated starting at the first nucleotide in the sequence with number 1. The enumeration is continuous throughout the whole nucleotide sequence in the direction 5' to 3' and shall be marked in the right margin, the line containing the one-letter codes for the nucleotides, and giving the number of the last nucleotide of that line. These enumeration methods for both amino acids and nucleotides apply to circular nucleotide and amino acid sequences with the exception that any nucleotide or amino acid may be designated as the first nucleotide or amino acid.\n\n3.1.2 Formal Requirements for Applications Filed Before June 2, 2007\n\nUnder transitional provisions, for any PCT or non-PCT application filed before June 2, 2007, applicants may substitute the sequence listing requirements set forth in the old _Patent Rules_ — that is, the _Patent Rules_ as they read immediately prior to June 2, 2007 — for the requirements set forth in the current _Patent Rules_ (discussed above).\n\nIn accordance with the old Rules, where sequence listings are required for non-PCT applications, they must be filed within the following time limits: the later of 12 months after the Canadian filing date and 3 months after a request from the Patent Office — this request is normally received within 15 months from the earliest-claimed priority date. There is no deadline for providing a sequence listing for PCT cases, unless the Patent Office issues a specific request setting a deadline. If the sequence listing is not filed within the prescribed time limits, the application becomes abandoned.\n\nThe sequence-listing requirements in Canada under the old Rules are similar to those required by the PCT. There are, however, some differences in both the formatting and content of the listings. As of July 1, 1998, the PCT changed its sequence-listing format to one in which numerical headings replaced word headings. For all PCT applications that entered the national phase having an international filing date before July 1, 1998, the old format of word headings must be used in the sequence listing. Where the international filing date of the PCT application is after July 1, 1998, either word headings or the numerical headings may be used. For Canadian patent applications that are not filed through the PCT, the sequence listings must have word headings. Sequence listings having numerical headings must be converted to word headings.[15] The word headings are set out in the archived Chapter 17, s. 17.18, of the _Manual of Patent Office Practice_ ( _MOPOP_ ).[16] The order of presentation of this information, as applicable, must follow the order set out in the archived Chapter 17 of _MOPOP_. Aside from the use of word headings, the formal requirements for the presentation of nucleotide sequences and amino acid sequences are similar to those of the current PCT standard (described above).\n\nUnder the old Rules, the sequence listing must form part of the specification and be filed with the Patent Office in both paper and computer-readable form, along with a verification statement confirming that the paper and computer-readable copies are identical.[17]\n\nThe principal consequence of the transitional provisions is that, in respect of non-PCT applications in which a sequence listing in the old format of word headings has already been filed, there is no requirement to update the sequence listing to the current PCT sequence listing standard. A secondary consequence is that, with respect to a PCT national phase application based on an international application filed before June 2, 2007, the requirement for a completion fee should not apply even if the sequence listing is filed more than three months after the date of national entry.\n\n3.1.3 Errors in Sequence Listings\n\nNo matter how carefully the sequence listing is prepared, errors occasionally show up. Whether or not the error can be corrected turns on the circumstance and nature of the error. Like other errors in a patent application, a basis is required for correction.\n\nIf the erroneous sequence is present elsewhere in the specification in a correct form — for example, in the drawings or in the description — then this usually forms an acceptable basis for correction and avoids a \"new matter\" objection or attack under s. 38.2 of the _Patent Act_.[18] If the sequence forms part of the prior art, correction to conform a sequence with the prior art is permitted under s. 38.2 of the _Patent Act_.\n\nIf the erroneous sequence is not present anywhere in the specification in a correct form, but is present in a correct form in a priority application, it may be worthwhile to argue for correction, particularly if it can be shown that the error is clerical in nature. However, the outcome of such arguments is uncertain because this issue has not yet been considered by the courts. A counterargument could be made because an applicant is free to add or delete material from a priority application and may voluntarily amend sequences.\n\nIf there is no basis for correction of a sequence listing, the impact of an error must be assessed. Complete omission of one or more sequences essential to practise the invention is likely to be fatal. Partial omission of one or more sequences may not be fatal; it depends on whether or not sufficiency, written description, and enablement have all been met by the material originally filed. Other material, including characterizing data such as utility examples, molecular weight, or other measurements, may save the application. Claims to amino acid or nucleotide sequences reciting the partial (and correct) sequence along with other characterizing data such as function, hybridization characteristics, and molecular weight can be considered. In cases where the omission is fatal, or at least damaging, consideration can be given to filing a new application.\n\n3.2 BIOLOGICAL DEPOSITS\n\nAn Applicant may supplement the disclosure of a patent application with a reference to a deposit of biological material.[19] The reference to the deposit of biological material supports the subject matter claimed in the application. A deposit is considered to be part of the specification and is considered when determining whether the claims are fully supported by the description. Reference to a deposit in the specification does not automatically create the assumption that the deposit is required to show sufficiency of disclosure.[20]\n\nDeposits of biological material must be made with an International Depository Authority (IDA) on or before the filing date of the Canadian patent application.[21] The filing date refers to the Canadian filing date of the application or, if a PCT application is filed designating Canada, the PCT international filing date. If the application claims priority from an earlier filed application, it is advisable to make the deposit before the claimed priority date whenever possible. The applicant may then rely on the priority date if sufficiency, enablement, or the establishment of an earlier claim date becomes an issue during prosecution.\n\nThe applicant is required to inform the Patent Office of the name of the IDA and the accession number of the deposit before the application is laid open for public inspection.[22] Applications are laid open 18 months after the earliest-claimed priority date. This information must be provided before the publication date if the applicant intends to rely on the biological deposit. For applicants entering Canada through the PCT, the required information must be provided to the PCT Office before the publication of the application. If the information is provided in a timely manner in the international phase, this will satisfy the Canadian requirements. The name of the IDA and the accession number must be included within the specification of the Canadian patent application.\n\nAn applicant may file a notice with the Patent Office restricting the furnishing of a sample of the deposited biological material to an independent expert nominated by the Patent Office.[23] Such a notice prevents any third party from obtaining a sample of the deposit. This notice must be filed before the application is published. This requirement is available only to PCT applicants if the applicant files form PCT/RO/134 with the PCT Receiving Office before the application is published, restricting access during the international phase.\n\nCanada has a fully accredited IDA. The International Depository Authority of Canada (IDAC) is located in Winnipeg, Manitoba and is able to store and maintain biological deposits for patent filings in accordance with the Budapest Treaty. IDAC will accept deposits of animal viruses at pathogenic levels 1 to 3, bacteria, bacteriophages, all mammalian cell lines, cloned genes, hybridomas, protozoa, libraries and other rDNA, plasmids, and phage vectors. Also, fungi and yeasts relating to human health can be deposited at IDAC.\nAPPENDIX A: TABLES OF AMINO ACID AND NUCLEOTIDE SYMBOLS\n\n[1] _Patent Rules_ , S.O.R./96-423, s. 111(1).\n\n[2] _Ibid._\n\n[3] _Administrative Instructions Under the Patent Cooperation Treaty_ (1 July 2011) [ _PCT Administrative Instructions_ ], online: World Intellectual Property Organization <<http://www.wipo.int/pct/en/texts/>>, Annex F.\n\n[4] _Patent Rules_ , _supra_ note 1, s. 111(2).\n\n[5] _Ibid._ , s. 111(3).\n\n[6] _Ibid._ , s. 94(2).\n\n[7] _Ibid._ , s. 94(3).\n\n[8] _Ibid._ , s. 94(1).\n\n[9] _PCT Administrative Instructions_ , _supra_ note 3, Annex C.\n\n[10] USPTO website, online: United States Patent and Trademark Office <<http://www.uspto.gov/patents/resources/tools/index.jsp>>.\n\n[11] _PCT Administrative Instructions_ , _supra_ note 3, Annex C, Appendix 1.\n\n[12] _Ibid._ , Annex C, s. 2(iv).\n\n[13] _Ibid._ , Annex C, ss. 8-22; Annex C, App. 2, tables 1-4.\n\n[14] _Ibid._\n\n[15] _Patent Rules_ , _supra_ note 1, ss. 129-130, as rep. by S.O.R./2007-90 (effective 2 June 2007).\n\n[16] _Manual of Patent Office Practice_ , online: The Canadian Intellectual Property Office <<http://www.ic.gc.ca/eic/site/cipointernet-internetopic.nsf/eng/h_wr00720.html>>, archived Chapter 17, s. 17.18 [ _MOPOP_ ].\n\n[17] _Patent Rules_ , _supra_ note 1, s. 111, as rep. by S.O.R./2007-90 (effective 2 June 2007).\n\n[18] _Patent Act_ , R.S.C. 1985, c. P-4.\n\n[19] _Ibid._ , s. 38.1. See _Patent Rules_ , _supra_ note 1, ss. 103-110, 159-166, 183-187.\n\n[20] _Patent Act_ , _supra_ note 18, s. 38.1(2).\n\n[21] _Patent Rules_ , _supra_ note 1, s. 104(1).\n\n[22] _Ibid._ , s. 104(2).\n\n[23] _Ibid._ , s. 104(4).\n\n**PART II**\n\nLIFE SCIENCES AND CHEMICAL SUBJECT MATTER\n\n**CHAPTER 4**\n\nCHEMICAL COMPOUNDS\n\n4.1 OVERVIEW\n\nThis chapter covers jurisprudence and best practices of broad relevance to inventions in the chemical, biological, and pharmaceutical arts.\n\nIn Canadian practice, compounds, compositions, products, processes, systems, and kits, including polymers, agricultural chemicals, pharmaceuticals, and cosmetics, are all patentable subject matter.[1] A compound is considered to be a composition of matter, and thus falls within the definition of an invention. Synthetic as well as naturally occurring compounds may be the subject of a patent claim, provided that other patentability criteria are met.[2] Compounds that occur naturally but that have utility in an isolated and purified form may be patented, provided they are claimed in a state other than a naturally occurring one.\n\nIt is recommended that any feature that has potential importance be represented by its own claim. Since Canada is a country that uses a \"fence\" approach to patent claims, rather than a \"signpost\" approach (such as that used in Japan) it is advisable to have a variety of claims in the application. In this way, if a broad claim becomes invalidated in a court action, there will be narrower claims to fall back on.\n\n4.2 TYPES OF CLAIMS\n\nThe Canadian Intellectual Property Office (CIPO) accepts most claim styles, such as Jepson-type claims and European-type claims using \"characterizing\" language to distinguish those parts of the claim that are old from those parts that are new. Such language may be somewhat limiting, however, when interpreting the claims from an infringement or validity standpoint.[3]\n\n4.2.1 Compounds\n\nChemical compounds may be claimed generically by defining a class, or as individual compounds. A compound may be defined (1) by structure, (2) in terms of physical or chemical properties, or (3) by the process by which it is made (product-by-process). Preferably, the compound is defined by its structure. A claim that defines a product by more than one of these forms is also acceptable. No matter which way it is defined, the product must be distinguished from all other known products.[4]\n\nCompounds defined by structure typically include empirical formulae, structural formulae, or chemically acceptable names. Low molecular weight molecules are most often claimed according to structural features, including functional groups.\n\nWhen the structure is not known, it is possible to claim compounds by way of their novel properties or composition.[5] For example, novel antibiotic compounds having an as yet undetermined complex structure may be claimed by way of physical properties and spectra, such as NMR (nuclear magnetic resonance) spectroscopy and IR (infrared) absorption spectroscopy. Functional language may be used where appropriate, but acceptance by CIPO will depend on the context.\n\nA product-by-process claim defines the claimed product wholly or partly in terms of the process by which is it made. The process limitations may be included within the product claim itself or the whole claim may be made dependent on another claim directed to the process.\n\nProducts that are already known may not be claimed by making them dependent on a new process.[6] Only the process itself may be claimed. In Canada, this limitation on product-by-process claims is not generally a concern. If a novel product is made by a patented process, then the product is assumed to infringe the process claim, absent evidence to the contrary, even if the process is effected outside Canada and the product is then imported into Canada.[7]\n\nBoth geometric and optical isomers may be claimed. A claim to a compound that is capable of isomerism, but that is not defined in terms of any of its isomers, will generally be regarded to include all of the isomers, including racemic mixtures. Where appropriate, it is also possible to specify the isomer intended by using conventional isomer notation.\n\nFor naturally occurring compounds, the claimed subject matter must be distinguished from the form in which the compound occurs naturally.\n\n4.2.2 Compositions\n\nAccording to CIPO, a \"composition,\" by definition, comprises at least two ingredients. A claim to a composition must therefore include not only the novel compound but also a second ingredient, which forms the composition. This second ingredient may be inert, such as a carrier.\n\nCompositions containing known compounds can be patented as can new uses for known compounds. In _Rohm & Haas Co. v. Canada (Commissioner of Patents)_,[8] a fungicidal composition containing known salts as \"active ingredients\" was found to be patentable. However, a method could not be claimed in this case, because a known method is not made novel by applying a new substance to it. The invention may reside in a new use, as in _Shell Oil Co. v. Canada (Commissioner of Patents)_ ,[9] where the use is an unobvious use in that an unexpected result is achieved.\n\nA composition that comprises a known compound in combination with a mere diluent is not considered patentable subject matter if no new use is established. In _Farbwerke Hoechst AG v. Canada (Commissioner of Patents)_ ,[10] the patent application contained composition of matter claims relating to an anti-diabetic composition of sulphonyl urea diluted by a carrier. The same applicant had already received patents to protect the undiluted compound. The Court held that the dilution of the compound does not result in further invention and a patent to protect the diluted form was not granted.\n\nWhen claiming alloys, CIPO prefers that all of the possible ingredients be specifically mentioned in the broad claim. That is, if a particular ingredient appears as an additional ingredient in a subsidiary claim, that ingredient should be mentioned in the broad claim. Generally, optional components may be claimed as up to X percent rather than from 0 to X percent. Furthermore, the alloy composition may be made up to 100 percent by including such terms as \"balance trace elements\" and/or \"unavoidable impurities.\" If significant, the broad claims should include a maximum allowable amount for one or more critical impurities.\n\n4.2.3 Methods and Processes\n\nA method is a series of steps to be followed in order to achieve a desired result. CIPO distinguishes between methods and processes, the latter including a method as well as the substance to which it is applied.[11]\n\nIn the instance of a known compound prepared by a new process, an applicant may obtain claims to the novel process. In _Hoffmann-La Roche Ltd. v. Canada (Commissioner of Patents_ ),[12] a patent was sought for a new process of making aldehydes. Although the aldehydes themselves could not be claimed as new, it was established that the applicant would nonetheless have a monopoly in respect of aldehydes made according to the patented process. Although process claims can be difficult to enforce, s. 55.1 of the _Patent Act_ provides that in an action for infringement of a patent granted for a process for obtaining a new product, any product that is the same as the new product shall, in the absence of proof to the contrary, be considered to have been produced by the patented process. This relieves some of the initial evidentiary burden from the patentee when enforcing process claims for new products and requires the alleged infringer to offer evidence of non-infringement. It is not, however, helpful with respect to process claims for old products.\n\nProcess claims are also patentable where minor modifications to a known synthetic process is made. In _Halocarbon (Ont.) Ltd. v. Farbwerke Hoechst AG_ ,[13] claims related to a process for producing isohalothane under liquid-phase conditions at a temperature of 50°C were refused by CIPO as obvious modifications. However, the Court found that the prior art did not point a skilled person to this modification. The Court, therefore, upheld the claims on the basis that a scintilla of inventiveness was found in the process modifications and, therefore, the modifications were patentable over the prior art. This decision reinforces the low standard of inventiveness required to overcome obviousness rejections. A mere scintilla of inventiveness is all that is needed.[14]\n\nProcess claims may also be patentable even though the generic method used is classical. Thus, a claim to a process that consists of applying a known method to chemically react known substances is patentable, provided that the method has never before been applied to these substances and results in a new, useful, and unobvious product. In _Ciba Ltd. v. Canada (Commissioner of Patents)_ ,[15] the Court held the process to be new by virtue of the novelty of the end product even though the reaction used was a standard, classical reaction.\n\nEssential steps in a process for synthesis of a compound must be recited in a claim. The decision of _Wellcome Foundation Ltd. v. Apotex Inc._ [16] related to methoxy and anilino intermediates in a process for trimethoprim production. An essential step in the process was omitted — that is, isolating the final product. Claims were drawn broadly, with up to 10 million possible compounds being synthesized according to the process. The burden of proof was on the attacker to show inoperability of any particular embodiment of the process, and this was not met. However, because the isolation step was omitted, it was held that a claim to the process of preparing an intermediate was invalid because a process that works but has no reasonable prospect of commercial or industrial application lacks utility.\n\nCIPO prefers to see specific process steps. Therefore, a claim such as \"a process for coating a substrate that comprises the novel coating composition of claim 1\" would be required to be amended to read \"a process for coating a substrate that comprises the step of coating the substrate with the coating composition of claim 1.\" The latter actively recites a process step rather than leaving it to be included by inference. In the past, CIPO has rejected claims that only recited a step of mixing two ingredients on the basis that mixing does not constitute a true process. However, in recent years, this type of rejection has been less common and it is now possible to obtain claims to a process that comprises only the steps of mixing A with B.\n\n4.2.4 Use\n\nA \"use\" falls within the category \"art,\" and is thus patentable subject matter. A use is distinguished from a method in that the latter involves directing the person skilled in the art to take a step or series of steps to arrive at the desired result. In contrast, a use may not require any specific step or steps to be followed.\n\nA new use of a known compound may be patentable in Canada where the use is new and unobvious. In _Shell_ , claims were directed to a composition containing a known compound for use as a plant growth regulator. The use of the compound as a plant growth regulator was not previously known. A claim was directed to the plant growth regulator but included the element of use within the preamble of the claim. The Court upheld the claim as patentable because the use of the known compound was new and unobvious.[17] In _Re Application for Patent by Wayne State University_ ,[18] it was established that a new medical use of a compound could be patented even though the compound had another known medical use. However, products that are already known may not be claimed by making them dependent on a new process.[19] Medical \"use\" claims are discussed in detail in Chapter 8, Medical Treatments and Medical Uses.\n\n4.2.5 Commerical Package and Kit\n\nCommerical package claims are a commonly accepted claim format in Canada. A commercial package claim must be directed to at least two elements, and is typically a claim directed to a compound or composition together with instructions for use of the compound or composition. Examples of claim formats that are acceptable in Canada follow in section 4.7, below.\n\nA kit claim must also be directed to at least two elements, either two compounds or compositions, or at least one compound or composition, together with instructions for the use of the compound(s) or composition(s).\n\n4.3 SOUND PREDICTION AND UTILITY\n\nClaims may be directed to a large class of compounds or to a more specific subset. Not all members of the claimed class of compounds need to be exemplified in the specification in order to obtain patent protection under Canadian law. It is sufficient if a smaller number of compounds are exemplified as long as the class of compounds claimed is a reasonable or sound prediction from the data provided in the specification. This principle was established in _Monsanto Co. v. Canada (Commissioner of Patents)_ ,[20] in which the Commissioner of Patents rejected claims to chemical compounds useful in preventing premature vulcanization in the production of vulcanized rubber dienes. The rejection was made on the basis that the claims were broader than the disclosure. One of the claims covered 126 potential compounds, although only three compounds had been tested and exemplified in the specification. The Court allowed the claims on the basis that sound predictions of utility were reasonable in the absence of evidence to the contrary. The Court held that the claims could be rejected only if it was established that the claimed subject matter included embodiments that lacked the utility or if the claimed subject matter was not a sound prediction, from the perspective of one skilled in the art, based on the exemplifications in the specification.\n\nThe issue of sound prediction resurfaced in _Apotex Inc. v. Wellcome Foundation Ltd._ [21] Apotex challenged the validity of Glaxo/Wellcome's patent directed to AZT (a drug for treating AIDS), on the basis that the necessary utility had not been established as of the priority date of the patent and that the claims covered more than the invention. Apotex asserted that Glaxo/Wellcome did not have sufficient information about AZT to predict that it could be successfully used in the treatment and prophylaxis of HIV/AIDS. However, the Court held that Glaxo/Wellcome had soundly predicted the utility of AZT in humans on the basis of _in vitro_ data. The Court established a \"doctrine of sound prediction\" that aimed to \"balance the public interest in early disclosure of new and useful inventions, even before their utility has been fully verified by tests, and the public interest in avoiding cluttering the public domain with useless patents and granting monopoly rights in exchange for speculation or misinformation.\"\n\nThe doctrine of sound prediction has three components. First, there must be a factual basis for the prediction. Second, the inventor must have, at the date of the patent application, an articulable and \"sound\" line of reasoning from which the desired result can be inferred from the factual basis. Third, there must be proper disclosure. The soundness (or otherwise) of the prediction is a question of fact. The doctrine of sound prediction, in its nature, presupposes that further work remains to be done. The doctrine of sound prediction does not include a lucky guess or mere speculation.\n\nThe _Monsanto_ and _Apotex_ decisions have implications for claims in all areas of chemical subject matter. Currently, the onus is on the examiner to provide evidence that a broad claim is not based on sound predictions of utility, even if very few embodiments of the broad class of subject matter claimed have been tested or exemplified in the specification. In _Ciba-Geigy v. Canada (Commissioner of Patents)_ ,[22] relating to processes for making new amines, only two processes were exemplified in the specification. The Commissioner rejected the claims to the processes as untested and, thus, speculative. The decision in _Monsanto_ was relied on, and it was affirmed that a claim of this type should be rejected only if there is evidence of a lack of utility or if the claim is not based on a sound prediction. That the claimed processes were subsequently shown to work was considered evidence that the claims were based on sound and reasonable prediction. The Court found that if the prediction made at the time of filing the patent application turned out to be true, it ought to be considered well founded at the time it was made. The Patent Appeal Board has also recently considered post-filing evidence to support a finding that monoclonal antibodies directed to a novel antigen were soundly predicted.[23] However, CIPO has been reluctant to accept _ex post facto_ evidence of utility, particularly where an application as filed does not, in the eyes of the examiner, soundly predict that utility.\n\nWhen an applicant claims a broad class of compounds while providing exemplification for a small number of them, it runs the risk of including embodiments that lack utility. If some of the compounds falling within the claim lack utility for the intended purpose set out in the specification, the claim may be found invalid. In _Société des usines chimiques Rhône-Poulenc v. Jules R. Gilbert Ltd._ ,[24] claims to a process for making tripelennamine, an antihistamine, were in question. One of the claims related to the synthesis of a class of compounds and salts thereof. Certain isomers formed according to the process claim were shown to be ineffective for the intended purpose. The Court held the claim invalid because it covered isomers that were useless as well as those that were useful.\n\nThe Federal Court has held in other cases that claims must be read in view of a skilled person in the art, and therefore where the skilled person would clearly recognize that a compound could not be used for the intended purpose, the compound must be excluded from the claim. In _Burton Parsons Chemicals Inc. v. Hewlett-Packard (Canada) Limited_ ,[25] claims in the patent were directed to electrically conducting cream that was topically applied to the skin to promote conductivity in obtaining an electrocardiogram. Certain of the claimed salts were inappropriate for use on human skin. The Court found that a skilled person would immediately recognize such compounds to be inappropriate for use on human skin and, therefore, would not use them for such a purpose. The Court read the claim to exclude these compounds from the claim and upheld the claim as valid.\n\nA claim to a broad class of compounds drawn on the premise of \"reasonable prediction\" cannot be interpreted to anticipate an undisclosed embodiment of the broad class that was not suggested in the claims or disclosure, should another party apply for patent protection for the embodiment. In _Re G.D. Searle & Co. Patent Application No. 2,152,792_,[26] Searle filed a U.S. priority document claiming a broad class of anti-inflammatory furanones. The Canadian patent application, claiming benefit of the Searle priority application,[27] contained claims to a specific subclass of furanones that were also described in a co-pending Canadian patent application filed by Merck Frosst Canada Inc. The Merck Frosst application was filed after the priority date but before the Canadian filing date of the Searle application. Because neither the Searle priority document nor the Searle application was publicly available prior to the Merck Frosst filing date, neither of the Searle documents could be cited for the purpose of obviousness of the Merck Frosst claims under s. 28.3 of the _Patent Act_. However, the Searle application was citable with regard to novelty (s. 28.2(1)(d) of the _Patent Act_ ), but only with respect to the broad class of furanones, because only these had specific support in the priority application. It was held that although the broad claim to the class of furanones could be obtained by Searle, the embodiments claimed by Merck, which were not exemplified by Searle, were not anticipated by the Searle application. This case points to the need for support in a priority application with regard to a composition-of-matter claim, in order to obtain a valid claim date. Furthermore, it serves as a reminder that a priority document, such as a provisional application, will not be interpreted to extend to non-disclosed subject matter.\n\nA distinction may be made between sound prediction and obviousness. The test for sound prediction involves the inventor as the relevant person, someone who is inventive by definition. In assessing sound prediction, common general knowledge as well as previous private work known to the inventor are pertinent. To meet the test for sound prediction, there must be more than a lucky guess, but certainty is not required — a reasonable prediction is sufficient. In contrast, in making an assessment of obviousness, the relevant person is a person of ordinary skill in the art, with no imagination (that is, not inventive). In assessing obviousness, common general knowledge published before the claim date is of relevance. To meet the test for obviousness, it must be very plain that the subject matter would or would not work; a reasonable prediction is not sufficient.[28]\n\nCare must also be taken to clearly identify the broadest aspect of the invention within the description in terms of, for example, process parameters such as temperature and pressure ranges, possible functional groups, and ranges of components in a composition. All other parameters, whether optional or within the broad aspect of the invention, should be identified as optional or other features of the invention. Unnecessary use of restrictive terms in the description, such as \"must be included,\" should be avoided because CIPO will use such terminology to reject claims excluding the seemingly mandatory element as too broad in view of the disclosure.\n\n4.4 SELECTION PATENTS\n\nCanadian practice allows the patenting of a smaller class of novel compounds that is a subset of a larger, known class of compounds. Such a patent is referred to as a selection patent.[29] In _Sanofi_ , the Supreme Court of Canada unanimously confirmed that a selection patent is permissible under the _Patent Act_. The Court stated that a selection patent \"does not in its nature differ from any other patent,\" and its validity should be evaluated by the usual statutory criteria, such as novelty and inventiveness. The Court held that \"a system of genus and selection patents is acceptable in principle.\" The Court followed a 1930 U.K. case in finding that they must meet three criteria: (1) there must be a substantial advantage to be secured or disadvantage to be avoided by the use of the selected members, (2) the whole of the selected members must possess the advantage in question, and (3) the selection must be in respect of a quality of a special character peculiar to the selected group. If further research revealed a small number of unselected compounds possessing the same advantage, that would not invalidate the selection patent. However, if research showed that a larger number of unselected compounds possessed the same advantage, the quality of the compound claimed in the selection patent would not be of a special character. The Court also made it clear that the specification of a selection patent must define in clear terms the nature of the special characteristic that is possessed by the selection claimed.[30]\n\nIn _Eli Lilly Canada Inc. v. Novopharm Ltd._ , the Court held that no freestanding ground of attack that a patent is not a valid selection patent exists. A selection patent is the same as any other patent. Its validity is vulnerable to attack on any of the grounds set out in the _Patent Act_.[31]\n\nSubset compounds can therefore be patented if it is established that they have some substantial advantage or utility over the larger known class, all selected members have the advantage, and the advantage is not an obvious one. The unobvious advantage may be a new use for the compounds. It may also include the previous use of the known compounds, but at a much improved level. For example, where a large class of compounds has been shown to be useful in the treatment of cancer, a subset of the compounds may be patentable for the treatment of cancer where the reactivity or supporting data are significantly improved from that of the known class, so that it can be shown that the subset reacts in a different manner from the known class. In such instances where the subset compounds are known but the use is novel, only \"method,\" \"use,\" and \"compound for use\" claims would be available.\n\n4.5 UNITY\n\nCIPO takes the position that claims directed to a product, a process for making a product, a use of the product, and an apparatus specially adapted to carry out the process may generally be prosecuted together in the same application.[32]\n\nCIPO takes the position that, in the case of a novel compound prepared by a process in which one or more of the intermediates are also novel, it is usually possible to keep the claims for the intermediates in the same application as claims to the final compound. Claims directed to a final product and an intermediate product used in the preparation of the final product may be claimed independently in the same application when there is sufficient structural similarity between the two, when the intermediate product does not have an additional use different from the final product, and when the final product can be manufactured directly or via a small number of other intermediates from the intermediate product.[33]\n\n4.6 CLAIM LANGUAGE\n\n4.6.1 Markush and Alternative Language\n\nMarkush format provides a list of alternatives and is worded akin to \"selected from the group consisting of... A, B... and C.\" Similarly, language such as \"A, B, or C\" (that is, alternative language) also provides a format for reciting alternatives. Although these claim formats are both accepted by CIPO, such language may not always be advisable in view of the some case law.\n\nFor example, in _Abbott Laboratories v. Canada (Minister of Health)_ ,[34] a claim was directed to a process using a solvent chosen from a Markush group of 17 listed solvents. The claims were found to lack utility when 3 of the listed solvents were selected. The Court held that elements of a Markush grouping cannot be considered alternatives within the scope of s. 27(5) of the Canadian _Patent Act_ , the relevant portion of which provides that when a claim defines the subject matter of an invention in the alternative, each alternative is a separate claim for the purpose of determining utility. The Court found that the patent holder was unable to prove that allegations that the claim was invalid were unjustified.[35] In a subsequent decision, Abbott again failed to prove that allegations that a Markush claim was invalid on similar grounds were unjustified.[36]\n\nBoth _Abbott #1_ and _Abbott #2_ were Notice of Compliance (NOC) proceedings, and it is therefore questionable whether these decisions will impact Patent Office policy.[37] Nonetheless, the results of the _Abbott_ proceedings have resulted in increased uncertainty for applicants for Canadian patents and their agents.\n\nIt may therefore be advantageous to divide up subject matter covered by lists and collective terms into separate claims. Any commercially significant embodiment of the invention should be expressly and separately disclosed and claimed. CIPO does not charge excess claim fees, and prospective patentees should consider claiming embodiments of varying scope, to capture broad, intermediate, and specific subject matter.\n\n4.6.2 Terminology\n\nCommon rejections from CIPO include those based on terminology that CIPO considers ambiguous or indefinite.[38] CIPO will routinely reject claims, at least initially, containing terms such as \"substituted\" and \"protecting group,\" if the terms are not further defined in the claim. If these terms are further defined in the specificaiton, the specification may be referred to in order to argue against such a rejection. When substituents are defined as a class of compounds, CIPO will reject open-ended definitions. These include terms such as \"alkyl\" and \"aryl,\" where the number of carbon atoms in the alkyl or aryl group is not specified. A functional limitation such as \"lower alkyl\" may sometimes be acceptable as a suitable limitation to overcome such a rejection if it can be shown that \"lower\" has a known meaning in the art or is defined in the description. Such limitations are not always successful, however, and it is frequently necessary to specify the number of carbon atoms in the group. Terms such as \"hetero\" may also be rejected for the requirement to limit the term to the specific hetero-atoms contemplated. Similar objections may be made to broad definitions of heterocyclic compounds. Care should therefore be taken to incorporate sufficient details of substituents into the application so that any such objections may be overcome without unduly limiting the scope of the claim. When a clear description of the term is provided in the description, argument that it is appropriate to construe the claim in view of the specification, citing _Whirlpool Corp. v. Camco Inc._ ,[39] may overcome such objections.\n\n4.6.3 Claim Dependencies\n\nRules of claim dependency are more liberal in Canada than in the United States and some other jurisdictions. Any number of dependencies are permitted. However, CIPO is strict about the wording of such multiple dependencies and the preambles of claims. Wording such as \"according to any previous claim\" is not acceptable because previous claims must be referred to by number, such as \"according to any one of claims... .\" In addition, as discussed above, CIPO does not charge excess claim fees, or fees for multiple dependencies.\n\n4.6.4 Antecedents\n\nCIPO takes a strict approach to antecedents. Thus, a set of claims that is acceptable in other countries may meet antecedent objections from a Canadian examiner. All terms referred to in a claim must be introduced with the indefinite article \"a\" or \"an\" (or with no article where appropriate) prior to being referred to with a definite article — for example, \"the\" or \"said.\" The introduction of a term may be within a dependent claim or in a parent claim on which the dependent claim depends.\n\n4.7 CLAIM FORMATS\n\na. _Composition of matter claim reciting a formula or structural feature_\n\n• A compound having formula (I)[40]...\n\n• A compound comprising core A with functional group B present in position C, D, or E.[41]\n\nb. _Composition of matter claim reciting a chemical name_\n\n• A composition of matter claim reciting a chemical name of a new compound generally uses naming conventions in accordance with IUPAC[42] nomenclature.\n\n• A product of the formula X or a pharmaceutically acceptable salt thereof.\n\nc. _Composition of matter claim reciting a characterizing property_\n\n• A compound having the following H-NMR spectrum[43]...\n\nd. _Composition of matter claim for a naturally occurring compound_\n\n• A compound of formula (I)[44] isolated from plant J having a purity greater than value K.\n\ne. _Composition of matter in admixture_\n\n• A composition comprising a compound of formula (I) in admixture with a diluent or carrier.[45]\n\nf. _Commercial package claim_\n\n• A commercial package comprising a compound of formula (I)[46] together with instructions for use in the treatment of condition P.[47]\n\ng. _Process claim for preparation of a compound_\n\n• A process for forming a compound of formula (I)[48] comprising the steps of L and M.\n\nh. _Product-by-process claim_\n\n• A compound of formula (I)[49] prepared according to the process of claim 1.\n\n• A compound of formula (I)[50] prepared by a process comprising the steps of L and M.\n\ni. _Use-limited composition of matter claim_\n\n• A compound of formula (I)[51] for use in purpose N.\n\n• A composition comprising a compound of formula (I)[52] together with a suitable carrier for use in purpose N.\n\n• A compound X for use in the treatment of Y.[53]\n\n• A pharmaceutical composition X for use in the treatment of Y.[54]\n\nj. _Canadian- or German-type \"use\" claim_\n\n• Use of a compound of formula (I)[55] for treatment of condition P.[56]\n\nk. _Swiss-type \"use\" claim_\n\n• Use of a compound of formula (I)[57] for preparation of a medicament useful in treatment of condition P.[58]\n\nl. _Method claim_\n\n• A method for regulation of function L comprising the step of providing a compound of formula (I)[59]...\n\nm. _Kit claim_\n\n• A kit comprising a first container comprising a compound of formula (I)[60] and a second container...\n\n[1] _Patent Act_ , R.S.C. 1985, c. P-4, s. 2 [ _Patent Act_ ].\n\n[2] See Chapter 1, Overview of the Canadian Patent System, section 1.3, \"Patentability Requirements.\"\n\n[3] _Stamicarbon B.V. v. Urea Casale S.A._ , [2001] 192 F.T.R. 267, 8 C.P.R. (4th) 206 (F.C.T.D.), rev'd on other grounds by 2002 FCA 10, 17 C.P.R. (4th) 377.\n\n[4] _Manual of Patent Office Practice_ , online: The Canadian Intellectual Property Office <<http://www.cipo.ic.gc.ca/eic/site/cipointernet-internetopic.nsf/eng/h_wr00720.html>>, s. 11.08 [ _MOPOP_ ].\n\n[5] _Ibid._\n\n[6] _Apotex Inc. v. Sanofi-Synthelabo Canada Inc._ , 2008 SCC 61, 69 C.P.R. (4th) 251 [ _Sanofi_ ].\n\n[7] _Patent Act_ , _supra_ note 1, s. 55.1. _Eli Lilly & Co. v. Apotex Inc._, 2009 FC 991, 80 C.P.R. (4th) 1 at paras. 270-341, aff'd 2010 FCA 240, 90 C.P.R. (4th) 327, leave to appeal to S.C.C. refused, docket no. 33946 (5 May 2011).\n\n[8] _Rohm & Haas Co. v. Canada (Commissioner of Patents)_, [1959] Ex. C.R. 153, 30 C.P.R. 113 (Ex. Ct.).\n\n[9] _Shell Oil Co. v. Canada (Commissioner of Patents)_ , [1982] 2 S.C.R. 536, 67 C.P.R. (2d) 1 [ _Shell Oil_ ].\n\n[10] _Farbwerke Hoechst AG v. Canada (Commissioner of Patents)_ , [1964] S.C.R. 49, (1963) 41 C.P.R. 9.\n\n[11] _MOPOP_ , _supra_ note 4, s. 11.10.01.\n\n[12] _Hoffmann-La Roche Ltd. v. Canada (Commissioner of Patents)_ , [1955] S.C.R. 414, 23 C.P.R. 1 (S.C.C.) [ _Hoffmann-La Roche_ ].\n\n[13] _Halocarbon (Ont.) Ltd. v. Farbwerke Hoechst AG_ , [1979] 2 S.C.R. 929, 42 C.P.R. (2d) 145 (S.C.C.).\n\n[14] See Chapter 14, Infringement, Validity, and Post-Grant Modifications, sections 14.6.2, \"Obviousness,\" and 14.6.4, \"Utility and Sound Prediction.\"\n\n[15] _Ciba Ltd. v. Canada (Commissioner of Patents)_ , [1959] S.C.R. 378, 30 C.P.R. 135.\n\n[16] _Wellcome Foundation Ltd. v. Apotex Inc._ (1991), 47 F.T.R. 81, 39 C.P.R. (3d) 289 (F.C.T.D.).\n\n[17] _Shell Oil_ , _supra_ note 9.\n\n[18] _Application for Patent by Wayne State University, Re_ (1988), 22 C.P.R. (3d) 407 (P.A.B. and Comm. of Pat.) [ _Wayne State_ ].\n\n[19] _Hoffmann-La Roche_ , _supra_ note 12.\n\n[20] _Monsanto Co. v. Canada (Commissioner of Patents)_ , [1979] 2 S.C.R. 1108, 42 C.P.R. (2d) 161 (S.C.C.).\n\n[21] _Apotex Inc. v. Wellcome Foundation Ltd._ , 2002 SCC 77, 21 C.P.R. (4th) 499 [ _Apotex_ ].\n\n[22] _Ciba-Geigy v. Canada (Commissioner of Patents)_ (1982), 65 C.P.R. (2d) 73 (F.C.A.).\n\n[23] _Immunex Corporation Patent Application No. 583,988, Re_ (2011), 89 C.P.R. (4th) 34 (P.A.B.).\n\n[24] _Société des usines chimiques Rhone-Poulenc v. Jules R. Gilbert Ltd._ , [1968] S.C.R. 950, 55 C.P.R. 207.\n\n[25] _Burton Parsons Chemicals Inc. v. Hewlett-Packard (Canada) Ltd._ , [1974] 1 S.C.R. 555, 17 C.P.R. (2d) 97.\n\n[26] _G.D. Searle & Co. Patent Application No. 2,152,792, Re_ (1999), 4 C.P.R. (4th) 244 (P.A.B. and Comm. of Pat.).\n\n[27] See Chapter 1, _supra_ note 2, section 1.2, \"Claim Date.\"\n\n[28] _Sanofi-Aventis Canada Inc. v. Apotex Inc._ , 2009 FC 676, 77 C.P.R. (4th) 99.\n\n[29] _I.G. Farbenindustrie A.G.'s Patents, In re_ (1930), 47 R.P.C. 289.\n\n[30] _Sanofi_ , _supra_ note 6.\n\n[31] _Eli Lilly Canada Inc. v. Novopharm Ltd._ , 2010 FCA 197, 85 C.P.R. (4th) 413.\n\n[32] _MOPOP_ , _supra_ note 4, s. 14.02. See Chapter 2, Procedural Requirements, section 2.2, \"Divisional Applications and Unity of Invention.\"\n\n[33] _MOPOP_ , _supra_ note 4, s. 14.03.03.\n\n[34] _Abbott Laboratories v. Canada (Minister of Health)_ , 2005 FC 1095, 42 C.P.R. (4th) 20 [ _Abbott #1_ ].\n\n[35] _Abbott #1_ was a hearing pursuant to the _Patented Medicines (Notice of Compliance) Regulations_ , S.O.R./93-133 [ _PMNOC Regulations_ ]. In Notice of Compliance [NOC] proceedings, there is an onus on the patent holder (Abbott in this case) to prove that an allegation of invalidity is not justified. See Chapter 11, Patented Medicines (Notice of Compliance) Regulations, section 11.6.3, \"Burden Is on a Balance of Probabilities.\"\n\n[36] _Abbott Laboratories v. Canada (Minister of Health)_ , 2005 FC 1332, 45 C.P.R. (4th) 81 [ _Abbott #2_ ].\n\n[37] _Eli Lilly Canada Inc. v. Novopharm Ltd._ , 2007 FCA 359, 62 C.P.R. (4th) 161. See Chapter 11, _supra_ note 35, section 11.6.2, \"Application in the Federal Court.\"\n\n[38] See Chapter 1, _supra_ note 2, section 1.3, \"Patentability Requirements,\" and Chapter 14, _supra_ note 14, section 14.6.6, \"Ambiguity.\"\n\n[39] _Whirlpool Corp. v. Camco Inc._ , 2000 SCC 67, 9 C.P.R. (4th) 129.\n\n[40] Formula (I) should be inserted in the claim.\n\n[41] The formula may or may not be inserted in the claim.\n\n[42] International Union of Pure and Applied Chemistry.\n\n[43] A table of characterizing peaks may be inserted in claim.\n\n[44] _Supra_ note 40.\n\n[45] _Ibid._\n\n[46] _Ibid._\n\n[47] The claim format was found acceptable in _Wayne State_ , _supra_ note 18.\n\n[48] _Supra_ note 40.\n\n[49] _Ibid._\n\n[50] _Ibid._\n\n[51] _Ibid._\n\n[52] _Ibid._\n\n[53] _Apotex Inc. v. Wellcome Foundation Ltd._ (2000), 186 F.T.R. 274, 10 C.P.R. (4th) 65 (F.C.A.).\n\n[54] _Ibid._\n\n[55] _Supra_ note 40.\n\n[56] _Supra_ note 47.\n\n[57] _Supra_ note 40.\n\n[58] This claim format may be useful to claim similar subject matter to that claimed as a method of medical treatment in other jurisdictions.\n\n[59] _Supra_ note 40. This claim format may be rejected where it recites similar subject matter as that claimed as a method of medical treatment in other jurisdictions.\n\n[60] _Supra_ note 40.\n\n**CHAPTER 5**\n\nBIOPOLYMERS: DNA, RNA, AND PROTEINS\n\n5.1 OVERVIEW\n\nBiopolymers, such as nucleic acids and proteins, are eligible for patenting in Canada provided that the standard criteria for patentability are met. With the exception of antibodies (see Chapter 6), this area has not been extensively litigated, and there is a dearth of jurisprudence to provide specific guidance from the courts as to disclosure and utility requirements. The Canadian Patent Office has, however, set forth its own view in Chapter 17 of the _Manual of Patent Office Practice_ ( _MOPOP_ ), drawing largely on other subject matter areas.\n\nIn practice, the Patent Office requires real utility to be shown for a biopolymer claim. Frivolous utilities, such as the use of an oligonucleotide as a probe to locate similar sequences, are generally not acceptable unless it can be shown that such a utility has a real-world application — for example, in diagnostics.\n\nClaims including homology-based assertions of utility or function — for example, reciting a threshold \"percent identity\" to a specific sequence possessing the required utility — are acceptable under Canadian practice. However, if an examiner has reason to believe that a claimed sequence is not adequately supported or is not adequately similar to the specific sequence possessing the utility, the claim will be rejected. If the recited threshold of percent identity is set so low as to encompass sequences that do not possess the required utility, the claim will be rejected. Likewise, a claim covering mutants or variants based on a reference sequence may be rejected if an examiner feels that certain sequence changes would impact function, or if undue experimentation would be required to determine whether a given sequence would fall within or outside the scope of the claim. Usually, mutants and variants of a specific sequence cannot simply be claimed in general terms together with a functional limitation. However, mutants and variants of a specific sequence may nevertheless be acceptable claim subject matter if adequate structural qualification of permitted changes or substitutions to the sequence is provided.\n\nIt is always advantageous to illustrate utility using _in vitro_ or _in vivo_ examples. _In silico_ examples, such as sequence alignment and molecular modelling, are gaining credence, although the Patent Office may require specific algorithms and parameters to be defined in claims that rely on such features.\n\n5.2 DESCRIPTION AND UTILITY\n\nAdequate description of a biopolymer must be disclosed in an application in order for the biopolymer to be patentable. The description required in the Canadian Patent Office for a biopolymer is similar to that adopted in the United States. For example, the decision in _University of California v. Eli Lilly & Co._[1] held that \"an adequate written description of a DNA... requires a precise definition, such as by structure, formula, chemical name, or physical properties.\"\n\nMany patent applications directed to biopolymers rely on a sequence listing to provide adequate written description. However, if such a biopolymer has not been fully characterized, physical properties may be relied upon for description of the invention, such as with an unsequenced protein having a known physical function. (The approach of defining a biopolymer in terms of physical properties was more common in the years before sequencing technology became routine.) In such cases, the physical properties must be adequate to describe what the biopolymer _actually is_ , not merely _what it does_. A combination of physical properties will most likely be necessary to distinguish it over prior art compounds. If a protein or nucleic acid can be sequenced, it is preferable to do so and include this data in the patent application.\n\nChapter 17 of _MOPOP_ indicates common general knowledge need not be comprehensively disclosed in a patent application for the purposes of sufficiency; describing an assay by literature reference is sufficient.[2] However, where techniques are relatively new or being practised by relatively few labs, jurisprudence from the antibody field suggests that it is best to describe such methods in detail.[3]\n\nWhere the utility of certain claimed biopolymers is not explicitly disclosed or illustrated in an application but is nevertheless predicted, the court-created doctrine of sound prediction may be relied upon (see Chapter 14, Infringement, Validity, and Post-Grant Modifications, section 14.6.4 for more information on sound prediction). The Patent Office now looks for a factual basis, as well as an explicitly disclosed \"sound line of reasoning\" to ascertain whether a claim is a reasonable extrapolation over the presented experimental evidence.\n\n5.3 GUIDANCE ON SPECIFIC BIOPOLYMER-RELATED SUBJECT MATTER\n\nA naturally occurring protein effective as an enzyme was claimed according to physical function and these claims were upheld in the case of _Continental Soya Company Limited v. Short Milling Company Limited_.[4] The Supreme Court of Canada considered the validity of claims to a naturally occurring soybean enzyme effective in bleaching flour. It was determined that the definition of invention in the _Patent Act_ included such an enzyme within the meaning of a manufacture or composition of matter. Although the bleaching enzyme already existed in nature, in its isolated and purified state it was considered useful and novel, and thus patentable. In this case, details of the biopolymer sequence were not required because an amino acid sequence could not have been determined at that time.\n\nA biopolymer must be claimed in a way other than its naturally occurring state, such as in an isolated or purified form. Thus, it seems reasonable to assume that a patent claim directed to an isolated or purified human gene sequence will not be infringed merely by possessing the gene in the human genome. Manipulating a cell naturally containing the gene is unlikely to infringe such a patent claim if the gene is not being used in the isolated or purified state claimed. Unlike in the United States, jurisprudence surrounding these issues has not yet arisen in Canada.\n\nIsolated disease-linked gene sequences are often claimed in the context of a diagnostic product for detection of the disease (see Chapter 9, Bioinformatics, Diagnostics, and Biomarkers, for more information on diagnostic methods). For example, claims to a nucleotide sequence tethered to a gene chip are allowable in Canada. Likewise, claims to biomarker panels and their use in diagnostic applications appear to be allowable. Although the Patent Office typically requires specific clinical indications to be set forth, broader disease-related applications may be claimed if there is an underlying molecular mechanism common to a class of diseases.\n\nIn the case of a known sequence that is modified in such a way as to possess a new utility, such as with polymorphisms and mutations linked to a disease or a pharmacogenomic trait, a sequence can be characterized by the sequence change. In the case of single nucleotide polymorphisms (SNPs), a sequence is characterized in terms of the change in its sequence, because it differs from a reference sequence.\n\nProteins are appropriate subject matter for a patent claim, provided that they are claimed in an isolated form. First-generation proteins isolated from a natural source, and second-generation proteins produced by recombinant DNA technology, protein engineering, or an equivalent process are both within the realm of patentable subject matter. If a first-generation protein is already known, second-generation proteins must be structurally distinguishable in order to be patentable. Although there is no Canadian jurisprudence to direct this practice, the Patent Office practice is generally in agreement with U.S. case law, which views first-generation and second-generation proteins as equivalent, following _Scripps Clinic & Research Foundation v. Genentech, Inc._,[5] involving Factor VIILC isolated from blood.\n\nNucleotide sequences may comprise coding and/or non-coding sequences and may be variously defined as polynucleotides, DNA, or RNA. They also may be double-stranded, single-stranded, or partially double-stranded. Sequences can sometimes be defined functionally in a patent claim, although this is often an area of argument with examiners. For example, a particular sequence may be defined as coding for a peptide, a promoter region, or a transcription initiation site. A sequence or part of it may also act as a linker or adaptor molecule enabling nucleotide sequences to be linked together, usually in the same reading frame. A nucleotide sequence may be defined in terms of another nucleotide sequence with which it will hybridize under defined conditions, although this may provoke an argument with an examiner about clarity of scope. For this reason, it is advisable that applicants ensure that hybridization conditions are clearly defined in the specification. Furthermore, a claim will be rejected on the ground of lack of utility if a DNA sequence complementary to a coding sequence is claimed, because only the coding sequence itself is considered to have utility. If a utility can be demonstrated for the complementary sequence, other than for locating the coding sequence to which it hybridizes, then it may be possible to claim such a complementary sequence.\n\nCloning or expression vectors, such as plasmids, are acceptable claim subject matter. Claims to these aspects of an invention are useful because genetic material is often stored or deposited in this form, rather than in cells, because cells tend to age and die. In the course of aging and dying, cells can corrupt the nucleotide sequences they contain. Cloning vehicles, such as viruses, often behave more like chemicals than life forms. They are often modified, may be chimeric, and may be semi-autonomous from the chromosomal complement of the cell in which they are inserted. Claims to these aspects of an invention are narrower than claims to the sequences themselves but are broader than claims to cells and microorganisms.\n\nIf it can be shown that a genetic rearrangement, with or without the addition of heterologous material, of a chromosome or of the genetic complement of an organism has an unexpected benefit, it may be worth seeking patent protection. A modified chromosome, a novel chromosome, or a complete genetic complement of chromosomes may each be claimed subject matter. Subcomponents of chromosomes, such as centromeres, telomeres, and regulatory elements, are patentable — especially if modified or isolated — provided that the other requirements of novelty, inventiveness, and utility are met.\n\nProcesses for formation of biopolymers are considered patentable — for example, for effecting the formation of a protein encoded by a DNA sequence. Methods, processes, and uses involving known biopolymers are considered patentable. In the case where such a method pertains to the treatment of a pathological state, the appropriate claim format under Canadian practice recites a \"use,\" as discussed in more detail in Chapter 8, Medical Treatments and Medical Uses.\n\nSome direction as to what constitutes adequate description support for claiming biopolymers, and on the question of ambiguity or indefiniteness in claim language, can be found in the comments of the Canadian Patent Appeal Board in Commissioner's Decision 1273 of _Re Yeda Research and Development Company Limited Canadian Patent Application 2,017,025_.[6] The Patent Appeal Board considered issues of (1) definiteness of claims to proteins, and (2) scope of invention made, disclosed, and claimed (\"proper disclosure\") when an applicant attempts to claim a DNA molecule based on an amino acid sequence. The applicant was represented by Borden Ladner Gervais LLP before the Board. The subject matter at issue included claims to a tumour necrosis factor (TNF) binding protein II (TBPII) isolated from urine, and claims to DNA encoding the protein.\n\nThe issue of indefiniteness was raised by the examiner against claims to the TBPII protein, which claimed a full-length protein based on a partial sequence and a functional limitation. The examiner sought further definition by source and molecular weight. The Board held that, although the structure defined in the claims was only a partial structure, the probability of other proteins containing this same structure is \"vanishingly small.\" The claims included the functional limitation that the protein must inhibit the toxic effects of TNF. The Board held that there was nothing unclear or imprecise about this condition when read in combination with the structural element. Thus, a partial sequence together with a functional limitation was deemed to be adequately clear to define a longer protein sequence.\n\nThe decision also dealt with the issue of scope (adequacy or deficiency of the description in supporting the claims) for claiming the DNA molecule encoding the TBPII protein. The DNA sequence for the TBPII protein was not disclosed in the application, although alternatives could have been exhaustively listed for a DNA molecule encoding the defined portion of the protein sequence. The application taught how the DNA encoding TBPII, replicable expression vehicles, and transformed cells comprising the DNA could be made, as well as the process for preparing TBPII. The applicant argued that the scope of the DNA claims fell within the realm of sound prediction, and thus that the description was adequate to support claims to DNA, and had satisfied the tests set out in _Apotex Inc. v. Wellcome Foundation Limited_.[7]\n\nThe Board disagreed, taking some direction from the earlier decision of the Commissioner ( _Re Institut Pasteur Patent Application_ [8]) in which the application referred a person of skill in the art to techniques that could be used to obtain monoclonal antibodies without actually disclosing any such techniques. Notably, the more current Commissioner's Decision 1302, _Re Immunex Corporation Patent Application No. 583,988_ ,[9] now permits claiming of monoclonal antibodies once a protein is identified, without disclosing a working example of a monoclonal antibody (see Chapter 6, Antibodies, section 6.1.4). Regarding support for the claims to DNA encoding TBPII, the Board found no evidence that, as of the filing date of the application, a cDNA encoding TBPII had been isolated or characterized. The Board held that the application described only a pathway or process to be followed and, because it did not disclose the nucleotide sequence that formed the basis of the DNA claims, there had not been \"proper disclosure\" to support the DNA claims. The decision determined that description of a partial protein sequence was not adequate to support a claim covering the DNA encoding the protein.\n\nThis attempt at claiming a DNA molecule based on a partial protein sequence is referred to in _MOPOP_ Chapter 17 as \"reach-through\" claiming, which is arguably an incorrect characterization of the reach-through claiming concept. The reach-through claim terminology was originally coined to refer to a claim to an unknown compound identifiable through a described assay or method, such as through a screening assay, in instances where the advance described in the application related primarily to the assay or method. Because no specific method of identifying the DNA was described in the application in question, it may be more accurate to refer to the issue of \"scope,\" or adequate support, rather than reach-through claiming _per se_ , as stated in _MOPOP_ section 17.07.03. Further discussion of reach-through claiming is provided in Chapter 9, Bioinformatics, Diagnostics, and Biomarkers.\n\n5.4 COMPARISON OF CANADA WITH THE UNITED STATES AND EUROPE\n\nAs mentioned, genes are typically claimed in an \"isolated\" form in order to clearly exclude absurd patent claims that encompass human genes _in vivo_. At the time of writing, the much publicized decision of the U.S. Court of Appeals in _Association for Molecular Pathology v. U.S. Patent and Trademark Office_ ( _\"Myriad\"_ )[10] has, for now, upheld the viability of this claiming convention in the U.S. However, the lower court's decision to strike down claims covering diagnostic methods reliant on a step of \"analyzing\" or \"comparing\" a sequence was also upheld. At present, the issue appears to be mostly one of wordsmithing; the text of the decision suggests that adding an innocuous step of \"taking a sample,\" \"sequencing,\" or \"determining\" may have saved the diagnostic method claims. Further, many claims went unchallenged in the _Myriad_ case, and it is therefore questionable whether the company's proprietary position remains intact for the breast cancer risk assessment method in question. No parallel case has as yet arisen in Canada.\n\nWhile there are many similarities between claims allowed by Canadian examiners and those allowed by U.S. and European Patent Office (EPO) examiners, there are still significant differences.\n\nThe U.S. Patent and Trademark Office (USPTO) holds the view that biotechnology is an unpredictable art, and typically applies heightened disclosure and enablement requirements. Disclosure of how to make and use only a few analogues was found to be insufficient to enable broad, generic claims to all DNA sequences encoding similar proteins (see _Amgen, Inc. v. Chugai Pharm. Co._ [11]). However, a 2009 decision of the Federal Circuit, _In re Kubin_ ,[12] impacts this view to an extent. The Court found a claim to a cDNA encoding the human NAIL protein to be obvious in view of two prior art references. The first reference disclosed an unsequenced (and uncloned) cell surface receptor, termed p38 (later found to be identical to the NAIL protein) and an antibody directed to it. The second reference was a molecular cloning laboratory manual, which set forth routine cloning and sequencing methods. The Court found that the claim was obvious because the applicants had used \"conventional methods\" to isolate cDNA encoding NAIL and determine its sequence. This decision suggests that the field of biotechnology is more predictable than had been previously admitted.\n\nDNA is viewed in the United States as a chemical compound and is therefore required to be described by structure (that is, sequence).[13] In the United States, a sufficient description for DNA typically requires that the sequence of the DNA be described; and DNA isolated from one species has been found to be insufficient to define the DNA of other species (except by function).[14] Functional description is generally insufficient to describe DNA. This view of DNA as a chemical compound ignores the informational nature of DNA, which has been accepted by the EPO. U.S. examiners are therefore disinclined to allow identity-based claims that rely on a functional limitation (for example, any sequence having X percent identity with the described sequence while possessing the described function), and are unlikely to allow claims for mutants, derivatives, analogues, or homologues unless sufficiently described in the disclosure to meet the enablement requirement. Although Canadian examiners tend to emulate the stricter U.S. examiners in these respects, there may be more flexibility in Canada to rely on identity-based limitations when functional limitations are also provided.\n\nIn contrast, the disclosure for the EPO must only indicate one way to carry out the invention, and the EPO believes that persons skilled in the art can obtain variants without undue experimentation. In _Alpha-Interferon/BIOGEN_ ,[15] the EPO found sufficient disclosure for claims to a DNA sequence, any hybridizing sequences that encode a similar protein, and any degenerate sequences for either. With disclosed structure and activity, the EPO finds that persons skilled in the art can determine other claimed molecules. This is consistent with the view that DNA encodes information and is not purely a chemical compound.\n\nThe corollary to the above is that the EPO is stricter than the USPTO in applying the non-obviousness patentability criteria to DNA sequences. For example, the EPO is more likely to reject a claim to a human gene if a non-human gene of similar function has been previously disclosed. It is telling, perhaps, that Myriad Genetics' European BRCA1 and BRCA2 claims were initially revoked in Europe on this basis, though amended claims limited to diagnostic methods involving specific disease-linked mutations were ultimately allowed. The USPTO, on the other hand, allows patenting of mutants, derivatives, analogues, and homologues of genes in the prior art. Canadian practice, in this respect, also emulates the United States.\n\nWhile the Canadian Supreme Court found claims to chimeric genes enforceable against the grower of a plant in _Monsanto v. Schmeiser_ ,[16] the European Court of Justice ruled in _Monsanto v. Cefetra_ [17] that claims covering a gene responsible for herbicide resistance were not enforceable against imported soy meal made from beans containing the same. This was because, in the view of the European Court, the act of grinding the soybeans to make meal rendered the DNA incapable of expressing the encoded protein. The Court interpreted the European Biotechnology Directive as excluding patent protection under circumstances in which the claimed entity is not actually performing the function for which it is patented.\n\nOne unique feature of European practice is the so-called morality clause, which has the potential to severely limit the scope of a patent. According to EPC article 53(a), European patents will not be granted for innovations, the exploitation of which are contrary to \"ordre public\" or morality. The test of whether an invention falls within the morality claims is \"whether it is probable that the public in general would regard the invention as so abhorrent that the grant of patent rights would be inconceivable.\" The morality clause and has been particularly problematic for inventions deemed to have involved prior destruction of human embryos, as article 6 of the Biotech Directive 98/44/EC prohibits uses of human embryos for industrial and commercial purposes. In practice, the morality clause has been invoked to prohibit the patenting of many stem cell related inventions in Europe. There is no policy or regulation in Canada parallel to the European morality clause, and thus technologies involving stem cells are eligible for patenting in Canada.\n\n5.5 CLAIM FORMATS\n\nA biopolymer may be claimed as a composition of matter simply by reciting a sequence in the claim or by making reference to a sequence within the sequence listing contained in the description. With such a claim, acceptable levels of similarity or conservative substitutions may be specified, often in conjunction with a functional limitation. Alternatively, in lieu of providing a sequence, a biopolymer may be claimed by referring to a characterizing feature such as a sequence to which the biopolymer hybridizes or binds, by a measurable property, or by a process used to prepare it. A biopolymer can also be claimed in combination with a vector or a host cell. Process, method, and use claims involving the biopolymer may also be appropriate. Kits or other commercial packages involving biopolymers may be claimed.\n\nAs mentioned, to date, biopolymer patents have not been extensively litigated in Canada. However, given the present tumult in the United States over claims to \"isolated genes,\" prospective Canadian patentees would do well to consider including a wide variety of claim types in their applications. In the United States, it appears that claims to capture probes, amplimers, hybridization probes, cDNAs, etc. may stand, even if claims to isolated genes are ultimately struck down.\n\nExamples of claim formats include:\n\na. _Composition of matter claim by sequence_\n\n• An isolated oligonucleotide comprising the sequence 5' CAGCCAGGATGGAG 3'.\n\n• A DNA molecule consisting of SEQ ID NO:1.\n\n• An isolated DNA molecule comprising SEQ ID NO:1.\n\n• A polynucleotide encoding a protein according to SEQ ID NO:2 (if the protein is not naturally occurring).\n\n• An isolated polynucleotide encoding a protein according to SEQ ID NO:2 (if the protein is naturally occurring).\n\n• An isolated nucleotide sequence comprising the sequence of SEQ ID NO:1 or an allelic variant thereof.\n\n• An isolated sequence according to SEQ ID NO:3 comprising nucleotide G substituted at position 300.\n\n• A cDNA comprising SEQ ID NO:1.\n\n• A vector comprising SEQ ID NO:1.\n\n• A recombinant host cell comprising SEQ ID NO:1.\n\nb. _Composition of matter claim referring to biological deposit_\n\nNote: the biological deposit must be fully identified in the description at the time of filing.\n\n• A cloning vehicle comprising ATCC accession number 12345.\n\nc. _Composition of matter claim specifying function, hybridization, or percent identity_\n\n• An isolated DNA sequence which hybridizes to the complement of the SEQ ID NO:1 under conditions of high stringency,* and which is substantially identical to SEQ ID NO:2.\n\n• An isolated DNA sequence with at least 80 percent identity to SEQ ID NO:2, which hybridizes with SEQ ID NO:1 under stringent* conditions.\n\n• A DNA sequence encoding a protein having an amino acid sequence according to SEQ ID NO:1, or a sequence that hybridizes to the complement of such a DNA sequence under hybridization conditions of 50%C and 0.9M NaCl followed by washing in 1X SSC at 55%C.\n\n• A PCR amplimer comprising a first oligonucleotide primer consisting of 18-25 contiguous nucleotides between position 1 and position 50 of SEQ ID NO:1, and a second oligonucleotide primer consisting of 18-25 contiguous nucleotides complementary to SEQ ID NO:1 between positions 200 to 250.\n\n• A transmembrane protein isolated from microbe C which binds to receptor D.\n\n• A transmembrane protein comprising at least 85 percent identity with SEQ ID NO:1, and which binds to receptor D.\n\nd. _Composition of matter claim reciting distinguishing feature_\n\n• An isolated DNA sequence from gene A having polymorphism E leading to a restriction fragment pattern shown in Figure 1.\n\ne. _Composition of matter claim defining a sequence by a process for preparation_\n\n• Protein F prepared according to a process comprising steps G and H.\n\nf. _Process claim for preparation of a biopolymer_\n\n• A process for isolating protein F comprising steps G and H.\n\n• A process for preparing the DNA sequence of claim 1 comprising the steps of:\n\ni. reverse transcribing RNA, which complements part of the DNA sequence of claim 1 to form a partial DNA sequence; and\n\nii. ligating the partial DNA sequence resulting from step (i) to at least one other partial DNA sequence comprising the balance of the DNA sequence of claim 1.\n\ng. _Method claim involving a sequence_\n\n• A method for transforming a plant comprising the step of transfection with a vector containing SEQ ID NO:1.\n\nh. _Use claim for treatment involving a sequence_\n\n• Use of an oligonucleotide according to SEQ ID NO:1 for treatment of disease I.\n\n• Use of a therapeutically effective amount of a protein having the amino acid sequence of SEQ ID NO:1 for treatment or prevention of disease I.\n\ni. _Kit claim involving a sequence_\n\n• A kit for detection of disease I comprising SEQ ID NO:1 and directions for detecting binding with gene A.\n\n[1] _University of California v. Eli Lilly & Co._, 119 F.3d 1559, 43 USPQ2d 1398 at 1404 (Fed. Cir. 1997).\n\n[2] _Manual of Patent Office Practice_ , online: The Canadian Intellectual Property Office <<http://www.ic.gc.ca/eic/site/cipointernet-internetopic.nsf/eng/h_wr00720.html>>, s. 17.04.\n\n[3] _Sloan-Kettering Institute for Cancer Research Patent Appn. No. 2,072,017, Re_ (2009), 82 C.P.R. (4th) 33 (P.A.B.).\n\n[4] _Continental Soya Company Limited v. Short Milling Company Limited_ (1943), 2 C.P.R. 1 (S.C.C.).\n\n[5] _Scripps Clinic & Research Foundation v. Genentech, Inc._, 927 F.2d 1565, 18 USPQ2d 1001 (Fed. Cir. 1991).\n\n[6] _Yeda Research and Development Company Limited Canadian Patent Application 2,017,025, Re_ (2007), 59 C.P.R. (4th) 464.\n\n[7] _Apotex Inc. v. Wellcome Foundation Limited_ , 2002 SCC 77, [2002] 4 S.C.R. 153, 21 C.P.R. (4th) 499 (S.C.C.), aff'g [2000] F.C.J. No. 1770, 10 C.P.R. (4th) 65 (F.C.A.), rev'g in part (1998), 145 F.T.R. 161, 79 C.P.R. (3d) 193 (F.C.T.D.).\n\n[8] _Institut Pasteur Patent Application, Re_ (1995), 76 C.P.R. (3d) 206 (P.A.B.).\n\n[9] _Immunex Corporation Patent Application No. 583,988, Re_ (2011), 89 C.P.R. (4th) 34 (P.A.B.).\n\n[10] _Association for Molecular Pathology v. U.S. Patent and Trademark Office et al._ , 99 USPQ2d 1398 (Fed. Cir. 2011) [ _Myriad_ ].\n\n[11] _Amgen, Inc. v. Chugai Pharm. Co._ , 927 F.2d 1200 at 1213-14, 18 USPQ2d 1016 at 1027 (Fed. Cir. 1991).\n\n[12] _Kubin, In re_ , 561 F.3d 1351 (Fed. Cir. 2009).\n\n[13] _Fiers v. Revel_ , 984 F.2d 1164 at 1171, 25 USPQ2d 1601 (Fed. Cir. 1993).\n\n[14] _Regents of the University of California v. Eli Lilly & Co._, 39 USPQ2d 1225 (S.D. Ind. 1995), aff'd in part, rev'd in part, 119 F.3d 1559 (Fed. Cir. 1997).\n\n[15] _Alpha-Interferon/BIOGEN_ , T-301/87, [1990] O.J. EPO 1990, I-335 at I-335-38 (E.C.J.).\n\n[16] _Monsanto Canada Inc. v. Schmeiser_ , 2004 SCC 34, [2004] 1 S.C.R. 902, 31 C.P.R. (4th) 161 (S.C.C.).\n\n[17] _Monsanto Technology LLC v. Cefetra BV_ (2010), C-428/08 (E.C.J.).\n\n* In view of frequently encountered Patent Office objections, it is highly advisable to ensure that these hybridization conditions are clearly defined in the patent specification.\n\n**CHAPTER 6**\n\nANTIBODIES\n\n6.1 OVERVIEW\n\nUntil very recently, sufficiency and enablement requirements for antibodies had been very high in Canada, particularly for monoclonal antibodies and hybridomas. At the time of writing, Patent Office policy appears to have changed in this regard, in view of a recent decision of the Commissioner of Patents in _Re Immunex Corporation Patent Application No. 583,988_.[1]\n\nClaims to broad monoclonal antibodies are now being allowed when the antigen is itself novel and well defined. However, claims to humanized and bi-specific antibodies are still being objected to in the absence of specific examples. The reasons for this distinction are not clear at present.\n\n**6.1.1** _Re Institut Pasteur_\n\nSince 1995, Patent Office policy with regard to antibodies was largely guided by the decision of the Commissioner of Patents in _Re Institut Pasteur_ , in which the Commissioner refused claims to monoclonal antibodies and hybridomas secreting them.[2] The issue was whether the specification correctly and fully described the preparation and properties of the monoclonal antibodies and hybridomas. The only guidance given in the specification was that they could be made by \"traditional techniques.\" The Commissioner held that there was insufficient description of the claimed hybridoma or any description of a method of preparing it. The claims were therefore refused.\n\nHowever, the date of filing of the application considered in _Pasteur_ was February 10, 1987. Since then, the preparation of custom monoclonal antibodies and hybridomas has become routine, as evidenced by advertisements offering this as a service.\n\nArguments also exist with respect to errors made by the Commissioner of Patents in _Pasteur_. First, the Commissioner relied on U.S. case law that no longer reflects the state of the law. Second, the Commissioner arguably erred in relying on statements found in the second edition of _Monoclonal Antibodies_ by Dr. James W. Goding that were taken out of context.[3] The Commissioner cited statements to the effect that, if the preparation of monoclonal antibodies to antigens was routine and predictable, it would follow that all monoclonal antibodies to antigens would be obvious and the field of immunology would routinely produce all kinds of cures.\n\nThere are several problems with this statement from a patenting perspective. First, even given a well-defined antigen, a monoclonal antibody directed to it would not, of necessity, be obvious. Each particular antigen may comprise numerous epitopes, which are not necessarily themselves _a priori_ obvious from an examination of the particular antigen. If the epitopes are not obvious, then it follows that the monoclonal antibodies bearing corresponding paratopes are also not obvious. Another problem is the statement that the field of immunology would routinely produce all kinds of \"cures\" if monoclonal antibody production were routine. This is simply not the case. Monoclonal antibodies are not necessarily cures, and any \"cure\" would require many additional steps of testing for efficacy and safety. The utility of a monoclonal antibody as a cure is often neither relevant nor claimed.\n\nThe Commissioner also appeared to mix standards for determining invention and those for enablement and sufficiency. In assessing obviousness, an examiner cannot consider teachings in the description of the application. In assessing enablement and sufficiency, the examiner _must_ consider teachings in the specification.\n\nDr. Goding has more recently criticized any interpretation of his statements to support the view that monoclonal antibodies cannot be routinely produced (see below).\n\n**6.1.2** _Re Central Sydney Area Health Service Patent Appn. No. 605,609_\n\nIn this decision, the Patent Appeal Board considered an application that described a polypeptide acid-labile subunit (ALS) of insulin-like growth factor (IGF).[4] Claim 25 was directed to \"an antibody reagent capable of binding to ALS,\" and claim 26 further defined the antibody as being monoclonal or polyclonal. These claims were objected to (with others) in a Final Action. Applying _Pasteur_ , the examiner contended that these claims were objectionable due to lack of support and indefiniteness.\n\nIn responding to the Final Action, the applicant pointed to passages of the written description that described and exemplified the production and utility of polyclonal antiserum raised against an ALS. The applicant also argued that the production of monoclonal antibodies was routine, pointed to flaws in _Pasteur_ , and submitted an affidavit from Dr. Goding in support of this position. Although the appeal was ultimately unsuccessful with respect to the monoclonal antibody claims, the Patent Appeal Board admitted that there were problems with _Pasteur_.\n\nThe Board found the antibody claims to be indefinite because they defined subject matter by reference to two broadly stated molecules — that is, \"an antibody\" and an \"acid-labile subunit\" of a protein. The Board noted that the acid-labile subunit feature of the claims was not defined by the sequence admitted to be a key feature in the description. It found that the functional language \"capable of binding to\" was indefinite in this context. In the Board's view, defining the scope of a claim by reference to ill-defined molecules does not fairly put the public on notice, since the public would face arduous experimentation to determining (1) whether any given polypeptide fits within the broad functional terminology, and (2) whether such a polypeptide interacts with a given antibody. The Board stated that the claim would not have been indefinite if the epitope had been more precisely defined.\n\nTurning to the issue of enablement, the submitted affidavit of Dr. Goding stated:\n\nIn circumstances where a well characterized antigen is used... it would have been expected that a monoclonal antibody to an immunizing antigen could be prepared using well-established techniques.... I do not support the proposition that, given a sufficiently purified protein, one would not expect that monoclonal antibodies could be produced.... If my writings are cited in support of this proposition, then they are wrongly cited.\n\nThe Board conceded that the precedential value of _Pasteur_ had been diminished in respect of its finding on the enablement, and provided the following list of considerations for determining whether a specification is enabling in respect of monoclonal antibodies capable of binding to a particular polypeptide:\n\n• whether there is a description of the polypeptide and knowledge of its real or expected immunogenicity;\n\n• whether the scope of an antibody claim in respect of the polypeptide is appropriate;\n\n• the availability and/or ease of production of the polypeptide;\n\n• whether a monoclonal antibody was actually prepared;\n\n• whether there are indications of success or failure on record;\n\n• whether there are indications on record that suggest a requirement for undue experimentation or undue adaptation of the known core steps of preparing monoclonal antibodies; and\n\n• whether there are indications on record that suggest irreproducibility of an actual or proposed method of preparing a monoclonal antibody.\n\nThe Board stated that the value of _Pasteur_ had _not_ diminished in respect of the written description requirement, and provided a list of considerations for assessing the description in respect of a monoclonal antibody capable of binding to a particular polypeptide:\n\n• whether there is more than merely a general description of the polypeptide, including an explicit description of specific epitopes on the polypeptide;\n\n• whether there is a description of a paratope of a monoclonal antibody;\n\n• whether the scope of an antibody claim in respect of the polypeptide is appropriate;\n\n• whether the applicant was in physical possession of a monoclonal antibody; and\n\n• whether the applicant was in a position to provide a biological deposit of a hybridoma producing a monoclonal antibody at the time of filing.\n\nWhile the Board conceded that enablement requirements had been met, it found that the specification did not teach a precise epitope. The Board also emphasized that the applicant was not in possession of a monoclonal antibody or a hybridoma. The objections for lack of support were upheld on these grounds.\n\n**6.1.3** _Re Sloan-Kettering Institute for Cancer Research Patent Appn. No. 2,072,017_\n\nIn this Commissioner's decision, the Patent Appeal Board considered support and enablement requirements for claims to monoclonal, chimeric, hybrid, and humanized antibodies.[5]\n\nThe application described a murine monoclonal antibody, M195, directed to a human cell surface antigen, CD33, which is found on certain leukemic cells. A biological deposit of M195 had been made with an international authority. The broadest claim was directed to \"an antibody other than murine monoclonal antibody M195 capable of specifically binding to the same epitope as M195.\" Dependent claims of interest encompassed the following subject matter:\n\n• an antibody comprising the amino acids of the hypervariable regions of M195 necessary for binding to the same epitope as M195;\n\n• an antibody comprising the same hypervariable regions as M195;\n\n• an antibody further comprising a human immunoglobulin constant region;\n\n• a humanized antibody; and\n\n• an antibody in dimeric form, comprising the antibody linked to a second antibody.\n\nAll claims were objected to for an alleged lack of support. The Board focused on claim 1, and determined that it could possibly encompass\n\n(i) other murine monoclonal antibodies which bind to the same epitope as the murine M195 monoclonal antibodies;\n\n(ii) chimeric, or hybrid, antibodies made up of the variable regions (as well as their attendant hypervariable regions or \"[complementarity] determining regions\" (CDRs) of the murine M195 antibody attached to a human constant region; and\n\n(iii) humanized antibodies which carry the same amino acid sequences of the hypervariable regions of M195 antibody genetically engineered into a human variable region which itself is attached to a human constant region.\n\nThe Board dismissed the possibility of claim 1 encompassing (i), since no mention of these was made in the description. It concluded that the claim 1 must be limited to (ii) and (iii) on this basis.\n\nThis subtractive approach to claims construction is questionable, particularly since the language of claim 1 appears to be quite plain on its face. The source for the Board's adopted definitions for chimeric and humanized antibodies is also unclear. The Board stated, \"we consider there to be a distinction between a chimeric M195 antibody and a humanized M195 antibody and we do not interpret the latter to be a subtype of the former.\"[6] This is curious, given that it is widely known that chimeric antibodies may serve as a starting point for humanization.\n\nThis distinction between types of antibodies was reflected in the subsequent analysis. The Board first concluded that subject matter pertaining to chimeric antibodies was both supported and enabled. Noting that two representative embodiments were disclosed, the Board accepted that a skilled person could start with the deposited M195 hybridoma cell line and carry out the necessary genetic manipulation and sequencing steps required to arrive at chimeric antibodies. However, the same was not true of humanized antibodies, which the Board determined were neither enabled nor supported. Considerations that led to this finding included the following:\n\n• few laboratories (\"in the neighbourhood of ten\") were active in the field of antibody humanization at the filing date (December 14, 1990), and \"the field, although not nascent, was still advancing as of the publication date\";\n\n• steps to a humanized antibody are \"considerably more involved than would be the case for constructing a chimeric antibody\";\n\n• simply transplanting murine amino acids from the hypervariable region into a human framework region may distort the conformation of the resultant humanized antibody, thereby negatively affecting binding affinity;\n\n• molecular modelling, and design and construction of additional varied oligonucleotides, would be required, as would the subsequent steps of sequencing, antibody expression, and testing;\n\n• there was lack of a prototypical humanized M195 antibody for comparison; and\n\n• despite the existence of a biological deposit, required sequence information from M195 was not part of the skilled person's common general knowledge.\n\nThe Board was willing to concede that, with M195 in hand, it would be possible for a skilled person to follow standard methods and arrive at chimeric antibodies. It was unwilling to find the same in respect of humanized antibodies.\n\n**6.1.4** _Re Immunex Corporation Patent Application No. 583,988_\n\nThe Immunex application was filed on November 28, 1988 and pertained to interleukin-1 receptors (IL-1R).[7] Claim 29 was directed to \"[a] monoclonal antibody immunoreactive with IL-1R polypeptide.\" Claim 54 was added during prosecution to specifically cover an antibody directed to polypeptides defined by sequence, while claim 58 was a parallel product-by-process claim. The examiner objected to these claims in a Final Action for being insufficiently supported by the description, citing a lack of a specific example of such an antibody, and no supporting biological deposit.\n\nThe applicant argued that the subject matter of the claims, though not specifically exemplified, was supported by a full, enabling disclosure of how to make and use the claimed monoclonal antibodies; the IL-1R protein had been fully described, and detailed protocols for making antibodies had been included. These methods were routine at filing, according to the applicant.\n\nIn its decision, the Patent Appeal Board noted that U.S. and U.K. courts have recognized that no undue experimental burden is required to raise monoclonal antibodies targeted to a defined polypeptide. Broad claims to such antibodies have been allowed in these jurisdictions in view of the maturity of antibody production technologies.\n\nTurning to the case at hand, the Board noted that two types of IL-1R polypeptides exist: Type I and Type II. The specification disclosed the construction, expression, and purification of an extracellular domain of a Type I IL-1R. Thus, the Board concluded that the specification only described and enabled antibodies directed to Type I polypeptides, while the claims in question encompassed both types. However, the Board was willing to allow the claims if the scope of the antibody target was limited to Type I IL-1R polypeptides, and invited the applicant to effect the necessary amendments.\n\nIn arriving at its decision, the Board noted that the description taught the cloning and protein expression techniques required to prepare the immunogen. It also considered a post-filing publication from a third party, as well as an affidavit signed by one of the inventors, to support its conclusions that the generation of monoclonal antibodies was straightforward. Once the antigen was in hand, the work that followed did not, in the Board's view, involve undue experimental burden. The actual techniques used post-filing closely mirrored the general protocol taught in the description.\n\nThe Board also stated:\n\nthe skilled person would appreciate that monoclonal antibodies can be adequately described based on a combination of a structural description of the antigen, functional identity [that is, specific immunoreactivity] between the antibody and antigen, and knowledge of predictable production methods.\n\nOf particular note, the Board indicated that a target polypeptide could be \"fully characterized\" by providing a complete amino acid sequence.\n\nHowever, the Board cautioned that claims to antibodies having special functional attributes, such as diagnostic or therapeutic antibodies, may require \"correspondingly detailed support.\"\n\n**6.1.5** _Re Genentech Patent Application No. 2,407,304_\n\nThe issues of double patenting and support were considered in the context of antibodies and their polypeptides in _Re Genentech_.[8] Application No. 2,407,304 related to antibodies specific for platelet factor 4 superfamily receptor (PF4AR) polypeptides. The application was a voluntary divisional of issued Canadian Patent No. 2,105,998. The examiner issued a Final Action in which claims 1 to 7 of the '304 application were objected to for obviousness-type double patenting in view of claims 1 to 9 of the parent case.\n\nClaim 1 of the parent patent '998 application was directed to a polypeptide sequence:\n\nAn isolated platelet factor 4 superfamily receptor (PF4AR) polypeptide having at least an 85% amino acid sequence identity with the translated amino acid sequence of figures 2, 4 or 5.\n\nClaim 1 of the '304 application covered antibodies that bind to epitopes on the same polypeptide sequences:\n\nAn antibody that is capable of specifically binding an isolated platelet factor 4 superfamily receptor PF4AR polypeptide having at least an 85% amino acid sequence identity with the translated amino acid sequence of figures 2, 4 or 5.\n\nAlthough the antibodies described in claim 1 of the '304 application were related by the PF4AR polypeptides, the Patent Appeal Board determined that the two subsets of claims were patentably distinct, and that obviousness-type double patenting did not exist. In making its finding, the Board relied heavily on the fact that the \"intended utility or the main purpose\" of the claimed subject matter was markedly different in each application. Further, the Board found that the claims of the divisional were not \"an obvious variation, modification, or combination of the subject matter of the parent claims.\"\n\nMonoclonal antibody claims of the '304 application were also objected to for lack of support. The Board affirmed its earlier decision in _Re Immunex_ , and stated that claims to monoclonal antibodies were permissible, in principle, when a new epitope is disclosed. However, applying the precedent and framework for analysis set out in _Re Application of Central Sydney Area Health Service_ , the Board concluded that the claims should be limited to those that bind to the specific epitopes for which there was an \"adequate level of characterization.\"\n\n6.2 REQUIREMENTS FOR CLAIMING SPECIFIC ANTIBODY SUB-TYPES\n\nSome aspects of specific disclosure requirements in this art area appear to parallel chemical practice that denies claims to specific, but unexemplified, compounds, while permitting generic claims that encompass the specific compounds if other specific compounds within the genus have been exemplified.\n\nProvided that a novel epitope is described and an antibody has been made, the Patent Office is now willing to accept claims broadly directed to \"an antibody.\" Subsequent to the _Re Immunex_ decision, the Patent Office is now allowing broad claims to monoclonal antibodies when the antigen is novel and well defined.\n\nAt present, examiners still appear to be routinely objecting to humanized antibodies unless one of these has specifically been made. Possibly the dual requirement for humanized antibodies to (1) bind a target and (2) avoid being neutralized by the human immune system is the source of the heightened requirements for claiming such antibodies.\n\nSupport and enablement requirements for chimeric and bi-specific antibodies are at present much less clear, and the _Manual of Patent Office Practice_ has not been revised to reflect recent changes. However, the _Re Immunex_ decision should embolden patentees to argue that monoclonal and other antibodies can be routinely generated without undue experimentation when a novel and well-defined target protein is disclosed, for example, by sequence and/or structure. It also highlights the importance of providing general protocols and prophetic examples in patent specifications for the purposes of support.\n\nClearly, the filing date will continue to be critical for claims encompassing specific sub-types of antibodies. Today, once a verified monoclonal antibody is in hand, the steps to a humanized, chimeric, or bi-specific antibody are quite straightforward. Arguments could be made that an exemplified monoclonal antibody should be viewed as supportive of claims to other sub-types antibodies, since disclosed CDRs sequences are key to function and can be readily transplanted to a humanized context.\n\nIt would be unfortunate for patentees to face the absurd situation in which a humanized antibody is simultaneously deemed to be obvious in view of a corresponding monoclonal antibody, but also unsupported in view of the same.\n\n6.3 CLAIM FORMATS\n\nBecause the basic structure of antibodies is known, most new antibodies are new by virtue of being antibodies to a new antigen or a newly purified antigen. Nevertheless, claims to antibodies are useful because they are analogous to compound claims of chemical cases and help provide structure and unity of invention. Many applicants attempt to claim antibodies _per se_ with dependent claims of more restricted scope to polyclonal and monoclonal antibodies as well as to isotype and/or animal species.\n\nClaiming only a specific antibody, especially a monoclonal antibody, leaves an applicant vulnerable to \"design-around.\" One approach is to claim the specific monoclonal antibody or any monoclonal antibody that competes with it for its target epitope. A point of uncertainty here is whether or not such a claim would encompass monoclonal antibodies that compete by steric hindrance rather than by direct epitope competition. Careful claim drafting may be needed here, and the applicant may want to include broad claims that encompass epitope competition and steric hindrance as well as more specific claims.\n\nThe applicant may want to consider claims to species-specific antibodies — for example, mouse or human antibodies — as well as chimeric antibodies (antibodies derived from two or more species). This may not be an issue in _in vitro_ applications, but claims to mouse monoclonal antibodies are of limited use in _in vivo_ diagnostics and therapy. The applicant should ensure that the description is sufficiently broad to avoid possible restrictions.\n\nAntibodies can also be defined functionally in terms of their binding specificity and/or the degree of binding affinity. Depending on what is known and how broad or narrow the applicant wants to go, the claim can define what is bound as a specific antigen more broadly by what it binds — for example, a specific cell type or antigen. If the antigen epitope is known, then the claims may define the antibody in terms of the specific antigen epitope, although this may be difficult in the case of a discontinuous epitope. Alternatively, if the antibody paratope is known, then the antibody can be defined in terms of the paratope.\n\nFragments of antibodies are possible subject matter of claims and can provide broader protection than claims to the antibody. When describing the production of specimen fragments, it is highly desirable that the specification include examples or generic language. Claims may also be directed to compositions for assay or diagnosis or to pharmaceutical compositions depending on the particular utility.\n\nBecause of the unobvious nature of monoclonal antibodies, it has been difficult to obtain hybridoma claims that are not specific to the particular exemplified monoclonal antibodies, although this practice may change to reflect the more lenient attitude toward monoclonals seen recently. However, even if a broader claim is obtained, its validity is questionable in terms of being open to challenge on at least definiteness and sufficiency of disclosure grounds, although such a claim does have the merit of providing a road block for an infringer.\n\nClaims may also be obtained for methods of using monoclonal antibodies and kits. Usually, these claims will indicate the assay, diagnosis, or treatment, with the associated kit or composition. Occasionally, a second indication use comprises the invention.[9] Kit and commercial package-type claims may provide coverage of tangible items in second indication inventions and are usually easier to enforce than method claims.\n\nOften the discovery, isolation, or synthesis of a new antigen is central to an invention in this technical area. The antigen may have utility in raising antibodies, in inoculation or vaccination, and in methods, kits, and commercial packages. It may be possible to claim the antigen _per se_ , in a substantially pure form, attached to a carrier or a cell, as part of a kit possibly attached to a plate or to an indicator moiety — for example, an enzyme or a moiety that fluoresces under set conditions. Antigens — in particular, small antigens such as haptens — may be attached to a carrier by way of a linker. The antigen, the linker, and the carrier and combinations thereof should each be looked at to see whether there is patentable subject matter. This aspect of antibody-related inventions is sometimes overlooked in the rush to file.\n\nThere are a number of ways to file antibody-related claims:\n\na. _By function_\n\n• An antibody that specifically binds to epitope A.\n\n• A polyclonal antibody that specifically binds to antigen B.\n\n• A monoclonal antibody that binds to a neutrophil, an osteoblast, or a pancreatic islet cell.\n\n• A monoclonal antibody that specifically binds to antigen B and any other monoclonal antibody that competes directly or by steric hindrance therewith for said antigen.\n\nb. _By structure or sequence_\n\n• An IgG3 monoclonal antibody directed against cancer cells that specifically binds to antigen B.\n\n• An IgG3 monoclonal antibody directed against cancer cells that specifically binds to an epitope having a sequence according to SEQ ID NO:1.\n\n• A monoclonal antibody having heavy chain sequence according to SEQ ID NO:2 and a light chain sequence according to SEQ ID NO:3.\n\n• A chimeric antibody directed against cancer cells and having a heavy chain variable region sequence according to SEQ ID NO:4 and a light chain variable region sequence according to SEQ ID NO:5.\n\n• A humanized antibody having a CDR1 sequence according to SEQ ID NO:6, a CDR2 sequence according to SEQ ID NO:7, a CDR3 sequence according to SEQ ID NO:8, a CDR4 sequence according to SEQ ID NO:9, a CDR5 sequence according to SEQ ID NO:10, and a CDR6 sequence according to SEQ ID NO:11.\n\nc. _Hybridoma_\n\n• A monoclonal antibody secreted by a hybridoma cell of, or derived from, Deposit No. 1234.\n\nd. _Antigen_\n\n• An antigenic polysaccharide specific to serotype X of genus/species C comprising 1-2 linked sugar units and having a molecular weight of from D to E.\n\n[1] (2011), 89 C.P.R. (4th) 34 (P.A.B.).\n\n[2] _Institut Pasteur Patent Application, Re_ (1995), 76 C.P.R. (3d) 206 (P.A.B.) [ _Pasteur_ ].\n\n[3] James W. Goding, _Monoclonal Antibodies: Principles and Practice_ , 2d ed. (London: Academic Press, 1986).\n\n[4] _Central Sydney Area Health Service Patent Appn. No. 605,609, Re_ (2008), Commissioner's Decision 1283 (P.A.B.).\n\n[5] _Sloan-Kettering Institute for Cancer Research Patent Appn. No. 2,072,017, Re_ (2009), 82 C.P.R. (4th) 33 (P.A.B.).\n\n[6] _Ibid._ at para. 36.\n\n[7] _Supra_ note 1.\n\n[8] _Genentech Patent Application No. 2,407,304, Re_ (2011), Commissioner's Decision 1307 (P.A.B.).\n\n[9] For example, if the monoclonal antibody is already known and a first indication or use has already been claimed or disclosed elsewhere.\n\n**CHAPTER 7**\n\nLIVING MATTER (LIFE FORMS)\n\n7.1 DEFINITION\n\nThe _Patent Act_ does not provide a definition of lower or higher life forms, nor does it make a distinction between them. However, as will be considered in more detail below, the Patent Appeal Board and the Commissioner of Patents have arbitrarily distinguished between the two, providing patent applicants with a general idea of what they consider to be patentable in Canada (lower life forms) and what is not (higher life forms).[1]\n\nIn the case of _Harvard College v. Canada (Commissioner of Patents)_ ,[2] the majority of the Supreme Court of Canada supported an arbitrary distinction concerning the patentability of lower and higher life forms, but called for legislative action in this matter:\n\nThough this Court is not faced with the issue of the patentability of lower life forms, it must nonetheless address the respondent's argument that the line between higher and lower life forms is indefensible. As discussed above, I am of the opinion that the unique concerns and issues raised by the patentability of plants and animals necessitate a parliamentary response. Only Parliament has the institutional competence to extend patent rights or another form of intellectual property protection to plants and animals and to attach appropriate conditions to the right that is granted. In the interim, I see no reason to alter the line drawn by the Patent Office. The distinction between lower and higher life forms, though not explicit in the Act, is nonetheless defensible on the basis of commonsense differences between the two. Perhaps more importantly, there appears to be a consensus that human life is not patentable; yet this distinction is also not explicit in the Act. If the line between lower and higher life forms is indefensible and arbitrary, so too is the line between human beings and other higher life forms.[3]\n\nAlmost 10 years later, this legislative action has not yet occurred.\n\n7.2 LOWER LIFE FORMS\n\nWhile there is currently no patent legislation in Canada that expressly sets out what constitutes a lower life form, the case law indicates that such life forms as microscopic algae, fungi, moulds, yeasts, bacteria, protozoa, and viruses are patentable subject matter in Canada. The Patent Office defines \"lower life\" to include microscopic algae; unicellular fungi (including moulds and yeasts); bacteria; protozoa; viruses; transformed cell lines; hybridomas; and embryonic, pluripotent, and multipotent stem cells.[4] Naturally occurring isolated microorganisms may be claimed, provided that they are distinct from the corresponding microorganisms found in nature. In this respect, Canadian court decisions are consistent with U.S. patent policy that organisms with markedly different characteristics from those found in nature are patentable subject matter. In addition, a microorganism that is the product of genetic engineering or some other alteration may also be patented, as may a cell line derived from a higher life form or hybridoma. All life form claims must, however, meet the statutory patentability criteria of novelty, inventiveness, and utility.\n\n_Diamond v. Chakrabarty_ [5] appears to have set the stage for the patentability of lower life forms in Canada as well as in the United States. In this landmark decision, the majority of the U.S. Supreme Court held that genetically modified bacteria met the definition of a \"manufacture\" or a \"composition of matter\" set out in the U.S. _Patent Act_.[6] This decision was carefully considered by the Patent Appeal Board and Commissioner of Patents in _Re Application of Abitibi Co._ ,[7] which held for the first time that lower life forms are patentable subject matter in Canada.\n\nIn _Re Application of Abitibi Co._ , the Board was asked to consider the patentability of claims directed to a microbial culture system consisting of five types of fungi, isolated from domestic sewage after acclimation to sulfite liquor. The culture was useful for digesting spent sulfite liquor from pulp plant effluent. Although the organisms had previously existed in nature, their modification through isolation and purification rendered the culture a patentable invention. This decision paved the way for patenting life forms such as microorganisms, algae, viruses, and cell lines, which are produced en masse and which possess measurable and uniform characteristics.\n\nSingle cells derived from higher life forms, such as from isolated cell lines and hybridomas, are also patentable in Canada. Claims to mammalian cell cultures were found allowable following the decision of the Commissioner of Patents in the case of _Re Application for Patent of Connaught Laboratories_.[8] That case dealt with claims to a bovine cell line useful in the production of insulin. After the examiner refused to allow claims to living matter, the applicant appealed to the Patent Appeal Board. Largely on the basis of the previous decision in _Abitibi_ , the Patent Appeal Board allowed claims to the cell line.\n\nIn _Re Application for Patent of Merck & Co. Inc._,[9] the applicant sought a patent for the use of encapsulated cells from a mouse cell line transformed with recombinant DNA, which secreted bovine growth hormone (BGH). These encapsulated transformed cells could then be implanted into cows to secrete BGH _in vivo_. The examiner rejected the claims as being directed toward a method of medical treatment, which is considered non-patentable subject matter in Canada. However, the Commissioner of Patents found that the use of the encapsulated cells led to a vendible product — specifically, extra milk from the cow — and, when the method claims were reworded to define a use, the claims were allowed.\n\n7.3 HIGHER LIFE FORMS\n\nHistorically, the Canadian Patent Office has refused all patent claims to higher life forms. The Patent Office position on higher life forms was confirmed by a majority decision of the Supreme Court of Canada,[10] reversing the Federal Court of Appeal decision.[11] The impact of this majority decision on patent applicants has been softened by a subsequent Supreme Court majority decision (the _Monsanto v. Schmeiser_ [12] decision; see below), which held that claims to chimeric genes and cells containing such chimeric genes were infringed by the grower of a plant comprising such chimeric genes or cells. This means that, in Canada, a patent applicant may need to amend claims of a patent application to remove claims to higher life forms _per se_ and, where possible, replace them with claims to genes, cells, methods of making or using the higher life form, or the like.\n\nIn the _Harvard Mouse_ decision, both the Commissioner of Patents[13] and the Federal Court Trial Division[14] upheld the Patent Office examiner's position that higher life forms were not patentable. The patent application at issue contained claims to a transgenic non-human mammal, particularly a rodent such as a mouse, modified to contain an activated oncogene sequence. The application also contained claims to a process for producing the transgenic animal, to a transgenic cell culture and a process for producing it, to various plasmids bearing the oncogene, and to the use of the invention to test a material suspected of altering neoplastic development in a mammal. The Commissioner of Patents and the Federal Court Trial Division accepted all the claims except those directed to a non-human mammal. The Federal Court of Appeal[15] found that a non-human mammal is suitable subject matter for a patent and upheld the scope of the claims. This decision was reversed by the Supreme Court of Canada.\n\nIn a 5-4 decision, the Supreme Court of Canada held that claims to non-human higher life forms do not encompass patentable subject matter.[16] The Supreme Court looked to the U.S. Supreme Court _Diamond v. Chakrabarty_ [17] decision for guidance in this matter. However, the majority of the Supreme Court chose to follow the reasoning of the _minority_ of the U.S. Supreme Court in the _Diamond v. Chakrabarty_ decision. According to the majority, an oncogenic mouse is not a \"composition of matter\" within the meaning of s. 2 of the _Patent Act_ , though the fertilized egg of such an animal is. In the dissent, the minority pointed out that, on this view, subject-matter patentability is lost between two successive stages of a transgenic mouse's genetically pre-programmed growth. In the minority's opinion, such a \"disappearing subject-matter exception\" finds no support in the statutory language.[18] It is noteworthy that interpretation of the relevant parts of the patent statutes at issue, which are identical in critical respects, is divergent between the United States and Canada.\n\n7.4 CLAIMS TO GENES AND TO CELLS CONTAINING SUCH GENES IN HIGHER LIFE FORMS\n\nIn the Supreme Court of Canada _Harvard Mouse_ decision, the Court held that higher life forms do not comprise patentable subject matter, but commented that the fertilized egg that gave rise to the higher life form was indeed patentable subject matter. This raised the following questions: (1) when does the patentable fertilized egg become an unpatentable higher life form; (2) how are patents containing claims to genes or cells to be construed; and (3) can such claims to genes or cells be enforced against makers, users, or sellers of higher life forms comprising such genes or cells? Answers to the second and third questions appear to have been provided in the _Monsanto v. Schmeiser_ Supreme Court decision.[19] In this 5-4 decision, the Court found Monsanto's Canadian Patent No. 1,313,830,[20] claiming chimeric genes[21] and cells[22] containing them (but not the plant containing them), to be valid and to be infringed by the defendant, Schmeiser, when he cultivated plants (canola, a type of oilseed rape) containing such genes and cells. Taken with the earlier Supreme Court _Harvard Mouse_ decision, this means that patent applicants cannot obtain claims to higher life forms, but can enforce claims to genes and cells against users of such genes and cells in higher life forms.\n\nThe majority held: \"A purposive construction... recognizes that the invention will be practised in plants regenerated from the patented cells, whether the plants are located inside or outside a laboratory.\"[23]\n\nThe majority stated:\n\nThis case is different from _Harvard Mouse_ , where the patent refused was for a mammal. The Patent Commissioner, moreover, had allowed other claims, which were not at issue before the Court in that case, notably a plasmid and a somatic cell culture. The claims at issue in this case, for a gene and a cell, are somewhat analogous, suggesting that to find a gene and a cell to be patentable is in fact consistent with both the majority and the minority holdings in _Harvard Mouse_.\n\nFurther, all members of the Court in _Harvard Mouse_ noted _in obiter_ that a fertilized, genetically altered oncomouse egg would be patentable subject matter, regardless of its ultimate anticipated development into a mouse (at paragraph 3, _per_ Binnie J. for the minority; at paragraph 162, _per_ Bastarache J. for the majority).[24]\n\nNotably, the majority then stated:\n\nWhether or not patent protection for the gene and the cell extends to activities involving the plant is not relevant to the patent's validity. It relates only to the factual circumstances in which infringement will be found to have taken place.[25]\n\nThe majority looked at the finding of fact and found that it was clear on the findings of the trial judge that the appellants saved, planted, harvested, and sold the crop from plants containing the gene and plant cell patented by Monsanto. The majority then found that saving and planting seed, then harvesting and selling the resultant plants containing the patented cells and genes, appeared, on a commonsense view, to constitute \"utilization\" of the patented material for production and advantage, within the meaning of s. 42 of the _Patent Act_.\n\nAfter concluding that Schmeiser did not make or construct the invention (even though the genes and cells would have been reproduced (made or constructed) as a result of Schmeiser's activities), the majority decision turned to a discussion of the law on use of an invention and considered whether Schmeiser used the invention. The majority commented:\n\nAs a practical matter, inventors are normally deprived of the fruits of their invention and the full enjoyment of their monopoly when another person, without licence or permission, uses the invention to further a business interest.[26]\n\nThe majority further commented: \"if there is a commercial benefit to be derived from the invention, a contextual analysis of section 42 indicates that it belongs to the patent holder.\"[27]\n\nThe majority indicated that the appellants did not provide sufficient evidence to rebut the presumption of use, pointing out that\n\nthe appellants in this case actively cultivated canola containing the patented invention as part of their business operations. Mr. Schmeiser complained that the original plants came onto his land without his intervention. However, he did not at all explain why he sprayed Roundup to isolate the Roundup Ready plants he found on his land; why he then harvested the plants and segregated the seeds, saved them, and kept them for seed; why he next planted them; and why, through this husbandry, he ended up with 1030 acres of Roundup Ready Canola which would otherwise have cost him $15,000.[28]\n\nThe majority added:\n\nThe issue is not the perhaps adventitious arrival of Roundup Ready on Mr. Schmeiser's land in 1998. What is at stake in this case is sowing and cultivation, which necessarily involves deliberate and careful activity on the part of the farmer. The appellants suggest that when a farmer such as Mr. Schmeiser actively cultivates a crop with particular properties through activities such as testing, isolating, treating, and planting the desired seed and tending the crops until harvest, the result is a crop which has merely \"grown itself.\" Such a suggestion denies the realities of modern agriculture.[29]\n\nTo assist in determining the nature of \"use\" for the purpose of determining whether infringement occurred, the Court came up with seven propositions relating to use. These propositions are:\n\na. \"Use\" or \"exploiter,\" in their ordinary dictionary meaning, denote utilization with a view to production or advantage.\n\nb. The basic principle in determining whether the defendant has \"used\" a patented invention is whether the inventor has been deprived, in whole or in part, directly or indirectly, of the full enjoyment of the monopoly conferred by the patent.\n\nc. If there is a commercial benefit to be derived from the invention, it belongs to the patent holder.\n\nd. It is no bar to a finding of infringement that the patented object or process is a part of or composes a broader unpatented structure or process, provided the patented invention is significant or important to the defendant's activities that involve the unpatented structure.\n\ne. Possession of a patented object or an object incorporating a patented feature may constitute \"use\" of the object's stand-by or insurance utility and thus constitute infringement.\n\nf. Possession, at least in commercial circumstances, raises a rebuttable presumption of \"use.\"\n\ng. While intention is generally irrelevant to determining whether there has been \"use\" and hence infringement, the absence of intention to employ or gain any advantage from the invention may be relevant to rebutting the presumption of use raised by possession.[30]\n\nThe majority also rejected the \"innocent bystander\" argument, stating:\n\nInvoking the concepts of implied licence and waiver, the appellants argue that this Court should grant an exemption from infringement to \"innocent bystanders.\" The simple answer to this contention is that on the facts found by the trial judge, Mr. Schmeiser was not an innocent bystander; rather, he actively cultivated Roundup Ready Canola.[31]\n\n7.5 PATENT OFFICE PRACTICE AS MANIFESTED IN THE MANUAL OF PATENT OFFICE PRACTICE\n\nThe _Manual of Patent Office Practice_ (MOPOP) sets out the current Patent Office practice relating to living matter.[32] The Patent Office indicates that unicellular life forms include microscopic algae, moulds and yeasts, bacteria, protozoa, viruses, cells in culture, transformed cell lines, and hybridomas and may be patentable if new, useful, and inventive. The Patent Office also indicates that higher life forms including animals, plants, seeds, mushrooms, fertilized eggs, and totipotent stem cells (see comments in section 7.6, below) are not patentable subject matter. A process for producing such a higher life form may be patentable provided the process requires significant technical intervention by man. In office actions, examiners now routinely reject claims to tissues and organs as being directed to non-patentable subject matter. If the organ or tissue is based on an inventive artificial scaffold, then the patent applicant likely has ground for argument, especially if the invention resides in the scaffold and its utility.[33]\n\n7.6 THE CIPO NOTICE OF JUNE 20, 2006\n\nIn this Patent Office Notice, entitled \"Office Practice Regarding Fertilized Eggs, Stem Cells, Organs and Tissues,\" the Patent Office stated:\n\nThe Patent Office takes the position that animals at any stage of development, from fertilized eggs on, are higher life forms and are thus _not_ patentable subject matter under section 2 of the _Patent Act_. Totipotent stem cells, which have the same potential as fertilized eggs to develop into an entire animal, are considered to be equivalents of fertilized eggs and are thus higher life forms and are _not_ patentable subject matter. [Emphasis added.]\n\nThis appears to conflict with the Supreme Court majority decision in the _Harvard Mouse_ case on the possible patentability of fertilized eggs (and, by extension, totipotent stem cells). Whether this becomes an issue or a side note in Canadian patent law will depend on the economic significance of this area. It does, however, add to uncertainty as to where the boundary of patentability lies. Patent applicants may wish to consider avoiding drafting claims that encompass such subject matter unless it is of real importance to them and worth the expense of court action.\n\n7.7 EQUIVALENTS TO ORGANS OR TISSUES MAY BE PATENTABLE\n\nThe Patent Office contemplated that some equivalents to organs and tissues may be patentable.[34] The issue of the boundary between organs and tissues and artificial \"equivalents\" came up in respect of L'Oréal's Patent Application No. 2,306,317.[35] In this case, the applicant claimed an aged dermis equivalent and an epidermis equivalent. The patent application relates to skin equivalents that can be used for the study of phenomena related to skin aging, such as wrinkling and photoaging. The invention avoids the ethical disadvantages of using real skin from natural sources. The Commissioner held that the components are made _in vitro_ , and that everything claimed is the result of _in vitro_ manipulations in a laboratory, performed by scientists or technicians. The Commissioner stated:\n\nAlthough claimed as \"equivalents,\" we do not see that the subject matter should be interpreted to be something that is functionally equivalent to natural skin since none of the subject matter appears to be capable of doing things such as perspiring, secreting sebaceous material, providing for thermal regulation, or responding to environmental stimuli. The claimed subject matter is \"equivalent\" to natural skin or tissues, but only insofar as it meets the Applicant's very limited requirements.[36]\n\nThe Patent Office found that the material was anatomically different from and simpler than skin, stating:\n\nWe find in the Applicant's favour based on the record as it currently stands. The claimed products are compositions of matter because they are made up of ingredients or substances that have been combined or mixed together by a person and because they are anatomically and functionally distinguishable from true tissues or organs.[37]\n\n7.8 DEPOSIT OF BIOLOGICAL MATERIAL\n\nA deposit of biological material may be required to provide sufficient disclosure to enable one skilled in the art to practise the claimed invention. A deposit is required for inventions that cannot clearly convey in the written description the steps involved in making or constructing the biological material. However, reference to a deposit in a patent application does not create the presumption that it is _required_ for sufficient disclosure.[38]\n\nIn _American Cyanamid Co. v. Charles E. Frosst & Co._,[39] a validity attack was launched on the basis of insufficient disclosure for failure to provide a biological deposit. The patents involved pertained to two patented antibiotics — chlortetracycline and tetracycline — formed by microorganisms. The patents were attacked on the ground that neither disclosed where or how to obtain strains of microorganisms capable of producing the antibiotics. The validity attack failed. There was no evidence that by following the teachings of the patents and by examining the soil as instructed in the specification, one would not obtain an appropriate microorganism. Thus, if the description adequately allows one to obtain a microorganism, a deposit may not be necessary.\n\n7.9 CLAIM FORMATS\n\nA lower life form or isolated cell of a lower or higher life form can be claimed as a composition of matter by making reference to a deposit, by referring to a characterizing feature such as DNA or a plasmid, by a measurable property, or by a process for preparation. Claim clarity and claim support of this type of subject matter are commonly points of contention in patent prosecution, and should be borne in mind in the drafting of patent applications. Process and use claims involving living matter may also be appropriate.\n\nPatentable lower life forms and cells often contain heterologous genetic material or genetic material that is not foreign but that has been rearranged into a novel arrangement, such as modified genetic architecture. Claims to old cells in a new form, such as cells isolated from nature or in dry granules, are also possible.\n\nClaims to methods of producing a higher life form or use of a higher life form are also achievable.\n\nThe following is a non-exhaustive list of examples of claims that are suitable to cover life forms, their production, and their use:[40]\n\na. _Composition of matter claim reciting deposit accession number_\n\n• Cell line A given accession number B at the International Depositary Authority (IDA) of Canada.\n\n• A microorganism having ATCC accession number 56789.\n\n• A culture of _E. coli_ designated ATCC 45678.\n\n• A microorganism comprising all identifying characteristics[41] of (genus species) ATCC 12345.\n\nb. _Composition of matter claim reciting genetic material contained within the cell_\n\n• A host cell comprising DNA according to SEQ ID NO:1.\n\n• An _E. coli_ bacterial strain transformed to express a polypeptide of 130,000MW having the immunological properties of the crystal protein of _Bacillus thuringensis_.\n\n• A glyphosate-resistant plant cell comprising a chimeric plant gene of claim 1.[42]\n\n(Claim 22 of Monsanto's Canadian Patent No. 1,313,830.)\n\nc. _Composition of matter claim reciting a modified property or function of a cell_\n\n• A yeast cell having feature C.\n\nd. _Composition of matter claim defining a cell by a process through which it is prepared_\n\n• A cell formed according to a process comprising steps D and E.\n\ne. _Process claim for preparation of a cell_\n\n• A process for forming a cell comprising steps D and E.\n\nf. _Process claim involving a cell_\n\n• A process for preparation of substance F comprising incubation of a cell according to claim 1 in the presence of substrate G.\n\ng. _Use claim for treatment involving a cell_\n\n• Use of a cell according to claim 1 for treatment of condition H in a mammal.\n\nh. _Use claim for preparation of a medicament for treatments involving a cell_\n\n• Use of a cell according to claim 1 for preparation of a medicament for treating condition H in a mammal.\n\nExemplary higher life form claims from Harvard's Canadian Patent No. 1,341,442 and L'Oréal's Canadian Patent Application No. 2,306,317 are provided below.\n\ni. _Process for preparing a cell culture_\n\n• A method of producing a transgenic cell culture, comprising (a) introducing an activated oncogene sequence into pluripotent cells of a mammalian embryo; (b) allowing said embryo to develop into an adult animal; and (c) culturing somatic cells of said mammal.\n\n(Claim 13 of Harvard's Canadian Patent No. 1,341,442.)\n\nj. _Cell culture_\n\n• A somatic cell culture derived from a transgenic non-human mammal wherein the cells of said cell culture contain an activated oncogene sequence integrated into a chromosome.\n\n(Claim 19 of Harvard's Canadian Patent No. 1,341,442.)\n\nk. _A method of producing a (higher) life form_\n\n• A method of producing a transgenic mammal having an increased probability of developing neoplasms, said method comprising introducing into a mammal embryo an activated oncogene sequence.\n\n(Claim 14 of Harvard's Canadian Patent No. 1,341,442.)\n\nl. _Use of a (higher) life form in testing_\n\n• A method of testing a material suspected of being a carcinogen, comprising: exposing a transgenic non-human mammal to said material and detecting neoplasms as an indication of carcinogenicity; said transgenic non-human mammal being a transgenic non-human mammal whose germ cells and somatic cells contain an activated oncogene sequence introduced into said mammal, or an ancestor of said mammal, at an embryonic stage.\n\n(Claim 1 of Harvard's Canadian Patent No. 1,341,442.)\n\nm. _An \"equivalent\" of an organ_\n\n• An aged dermis equivalent comprising at least glycated collagen and fibroblasts, characterized by the fact that it presents a level of glycation between 2 and 30, said aged dermis equivalent being produced _in vitro_.\n\n(Claim 1 of L'Oréal's Canadian Application No. 2,306,317.)\n\n• An epidermis equivalent comprising at least keratinocytes, characterized by the fact that it is obtained by seeding at least keratinocytes on a dermis equivalent as defined in any one of claims 1 to 7, said epidermis equivalent being produced _in vitro_.\n\n(Claim 8 of L'Oréal's Canadian Application No. 2,306,317.)\n\n[1] The boundary between living matter and non-living matter is explored in section 7.7.\n\n[2] 2002 SCC 76, [2002] 4 S.C.R. 45, 21 C.P.R. (4th) 417.\n\n[3] _Ibid._ at para. 199. See also paras. 202-206.\n\n[4] See _Manual of Patent Office Practice_ , online: The Canadian Intellectual Property Office <<http://www.ic.gc.ca/eic/site/cipointernet-internetopic.nsf/eng/h_wr00720.html>>, s. 17.02.01a.\n\n[5] 447 U.S. 303 (1980).\n\n[6] U.S. Code Title 35.\n\n[7] (1982), 62 C.P.R. (2d) 81 (P.A.B. and Com'r. of Pat.).\n\n[8] (1982), 82 C.P.R. (2d) 32 (P.A.B. and Com'r. of Pat.); now Patent No. 1,139,691.\n\n[9] (1992), 41 C.P.R. (3d) 52 (P.A.B. and Com'r. of Pat.); now Patent No. 1,294,879.\n\n[10] _Supra_ note 2.\n\n[11] _President and Fellows of Harvard College v. Canada (Commissioner of Patents)_ (2000), 7 C.P.R. (4th) 1 (F.C.A.) [ _Harvard Mouse_ ].\n\n[12] 2004 SCC 34, [2004] 1 S.C.R. 902, 31 C.P.R. (4th) 161.\n\n[13] _Patent Application No. 484,723_ (1995), Commissioner's Decision 1203 (now Canadian Patent No. 1,341,442).\n\n[14] 1998 FC 510, 3 F.C. 510, 79 C.P.R. (3d) 98 (T.D.).\n\n[15] _Supra_ note 11.\n\n[16] _Supra_ note 2.\n\n[17] _Supra_ note 5.\n\n[18] Also, by extension, it seems that patentability can reappear when the organism produces fertilized eggs with the patentable attribute. Hence, patentability can appear and disappear in the course of an organism's life cycle without human intervention.\n\n[19] _Supra_ note 12.\n\n[20] The types of claims in Monsanto's Patent No. 1,313,830 were classified as:\n\na. the chimeric gene, claims 1-7, that does not exist in nature and is constructed through human intervention of three components;\n\nb. the cloning or expression vector, claims 8-14 (a vector is a DNA molecule into which another DNA segment has been integrated);\n\nc. the plant transformation vector, claims 15-21, 52;\n\nd. the glyphosate-resistant plant cell containing the chimeric gene, claims 22-28 and claims 43-51; and\n\ne. the method for constructing a-d and, in the laboratory, regenerating a plant from the plant cell containing the chimeric gene, claims 29-42.\n\n[21] See note 42, below, for claim 1 of Monsanto's patent.\n\n[22] See note 42, below, for claim 22 of Monsanto's patent.\n\n[23] _Supra_ note 12 at para. 19.\n\n[24] _Ibid._ at paras. 22 and 23.\n\n[25] _Ibid._ at para. 24.\n\n[26] _Ibid._ at para. 37.\n\n[27] _Ibid._ at para. 38.\n\n[28] _Ibid._ at para. 87.\n\n[29] _Ibid._ at para. 92.\n\n[30] _Ibid._ at para. 58.\n\n[31] _Ibid._ at para. 95.\n\n[32] _Supra_ note 4, s. 17.02.01.\n\n[33] _Ibid._\n\n[34] In chapter 17.02.01b of the _Manual of Patent Office Practice_ , the Patent Office excludes tissues and organs unless the subject matter is an artificial organ-like or tissue-like structure, generated by technical intervention by combining various cellular and/or inert components, and gives the example of an artificial heart valve comprising polymeric scaffold material configured in the shape of a human heart valve, where the scaffold material seeded with human myocytes derived from a human myogenic stem cell line is potentially patentable.\n\n[35] _Patent Application No. 2,306,317_ (2011), Commissioner's Decision 1312.\n\n[36] _Ibid._ at para. 28.\n\n[37] _Ibid._ at para. 30.\n\n[38] More information with respect to deposits of biological materials is found in Chapter 3, Biotechnology-Specific Procedural Requirements, at section 3.2.\n\n[39] (1965), 47 C.P.R. 215 (Ex. Ct.).\n\n[40] See also the analysis of the Monsanto claim forms, _supra_ note 20.\n\n[41] The identifying characteristics should be detailed in the description and may also be required in the claim.\n\n[42] Claim 1 of Monsanto's Canadian Patent No. 1,313,830 read:\n\n• A chimeric plant gene which comprises:\n\n\\- a promoter sequence that functions in plant cells;\n\n\\- a coding sequence that causes the production of RNA, encoding a chloroplast transit peptide/5-enolpyruvylshikimate-3-phosphate synthase (EPSPS) fusion polypeptide, which chloroplast transit peptide permits the fusion polypeptide to be imported into a chloroplast of a plant cell; and\n\n\\- a 3' non-translated region that encodes a polyadenylation signal which functions in plant cells to cause the addition of polyadenylate nucleotides to the 3' end of the RNA;\n\nthe promoter being heterologous with respect to the coding sequence and adapted to cause sufficient expression of the fusion polypeptide to enhance the glyphosate resistance of a plant cell transformed with the gene.\n\n**CHAPTER 8**\n\nMEDICAL TREATMENTS AND MEDICAL USES\n\n8.1 OVERVIEW\n\nIn Canada, the Courts have found that methods of medical treatment do not fall within the meaning of \"invention\" as set out in the _Patent Act_. As such, method claims reciting active steps of medical treatment are not permitted in Canada. It is, however, possible to obtain protection for medical treatment subject matter if appropriate \"use\" claim language is employed. New medical uses of known compounds (often referred to as second medical use or second indication claims) constitute patent-eligible subject matter.\n\nTypically, medical treatment claims reciting method steps that are permitted in other jurisdictions, such as the United States, can be converted to recite a \"use\" in order to be pursued in Canada. Conversion to \"use\" claims by amendment can be done after the filing date of an application, regardless of whether the \"use\" claim language appears in the application as filed. Claims to a compound, composition, or apparatus used within a method of medical treatment are considered patentable subject matter, as are uses of such a compound, composition, or apparatus. The \"use\" claim format was accepted by the Patent Appeal Board in the 1988 decision of _Wayne State_.[1] Affirmation of the \"use\" claim format was further provided by the Federal Court in _Merck & Co. v. Apotex Inc._,[2] as well as in numerous more recent decisions.\n\nWhether a compound is new or already known, a claim directed to the composition containing the compound together with a limitation reciting the intended use is available to applicants in Canada. This type of claim, sometimes referred to as a use-limited product claim, was permitted by the Patent Appeal Board in _Wayne State_ ,[3] in addition to other \"use\" claims. The Board considered this format to cover a use. Affirmation of this claim type was provided by the Supreme Court of Canada in the 2002 decision of _Apotex Inc. v. Wellcome Foundation Ltd._ [4] Whether a compound is new or previously known, a use-limited product claim format must recite a therapeutic purpose; it cannot simply state _any_ therapeutic purpose.\n\nThe definition of medical treatment, honed by precedent-setting cases, encompasses primarily those treatments aimed at alleviating or preventing a disease condition or treating an injury. Methods of medical treatment may encompass not only surgical methods but also methods directing the administration of a compound to a subject for treating a disease or disorder. When such a compound is new, it is eligible for protection through composition-of-matter claims. For inventions in which the advance involves delivery of a _known_ compound to a subject for a new and inventive medical treatment (a \"second indication\"), one cannot pursue claims to the compound itself and must rely on a claim format that does not recite method steps. Method claims can readily be converted to \"use\" claims to pursue protection for such inventions pertaining to medical treatments, while traversing the objection that the claim falls outside of the definition of invention.\n\nMethod claim format may be used when the invention involves a method of treating a human for a naturally occurring condition unrelated to a disease, disorder, or injury. Method claims directed to diagnostic inventions are generally considered patentable. However, a claim directed to a method that is primarily diagnostic in nature may be unpatentable if the same method concurrently results in treatment of a medical condition. \"Use\" claims are acceptable in most instances where corresponding method claims are acceptable. It is advisable to seek a variety of available claim types within a patent application, bearing in mind that no excess claims fee is levied in Canada.\n\nA claims in a \"use\" format that broadly recites the use of a compound for _any_ therapeutic treatment will not be permitted, but must be amended to recite a particular indication against which the compound is to be used. This is the case regardless of whether the compound itself is new or known.\n\nTreatments falling outside of the realm of \"medical,\" but involving consumption or application of a compound to a subject, can be patented in Canada in method claim format.\n\nIf an invention pertains primarily to a physical manipulation of a subject's body by a health-care provider, seeking patent protection is difficult but not impossible. If an instrument is used in order to achieve the desired manipulation, there may be a way to recite the use of the instrument without reciting an active method step. Even carefully crafted \"use\" claims may still be rejected if an examiner believes that surgical skill or judgment of a health-care provider is nevertheless necessary.\n\nWhen determining whether subject matter relating to a medical treatment can be claimed in method format in Canada, consider the following:\n\na. Medical treatments that are invasive to the body, especially those involving surgical manipulation, are likely to be considered non-patentable. It is unlikely that method claims directed to such treatments can be obtained. \"Use\" claims may be available if it is possible to carefully phrase a claim to recite a new use of a known surgical implement without directing method steps or physical manipulation of the subject.\n\nb. Methods having a therapeutic effect on the body are likely to be considered non-patentable methods of medical treatment, whereas methods conducted for diagnostic purposes are more likely to be considered patentable.\n\nc. Treatments involving administration of a compound to a subject in order to modify an organic function are generally considered non-patentable when claimed as methods. Such claims can readily be converted to \"use\" claims reciting the use of the compound for the intended purpose, which is an acceptable claim type in Canada.\n\nd. Methods that involve a step in which the professional skill and/or judgment of a medical professional is required are generally considered non-patentable methods of medical treatment. In such instances, conversion to a \"use\" claim format may prove difficult.\n\ne. A medical treatment involving a new titration regime of a known compound to treat a previously indicated condition would be considered unpatentable when claimed in method format, and may also be considered unpatentable in \"use\" claim format for relating to non-statutory subject matter.\n\nf. Methods that treat a natural condition of the human body rather than a disease, disorder, or injury are patentable if an applicant can establish that the natural condition being addressed is _non-medical_ in nature. In many instances, \"use\" claims would also be available.\n\ng. The main or primary purpose of a claimed method is considered in determining whether the method is a medical treatment _per se_. However, where a method has a primary cosmetic or diagnostic purpose but ancillary therapeutic effects, it may still be considered a non-patentable method of medical treatment. Conversion to a \"use\" claim format would thus be warranted if possible.\n\n8.2 SUMMARIZING PERTINENT DECISIONS\n\nDecisions from the Patent Appeal Board, as well as from the Federal Courts and Supreme Court of Canada, with respect to what constitutes a method of medical treatment, provide more specific guidance as to whether an invention is amenable to method or \"use\" claim format. Key decisions are outlined below.\n\n_Tennessee Eastman Co. v. Canada (Commissioner of Patents)_ [5] is the landmark case with respect to the patentability of medical and surgical methods in Canada. This decision turned on former s. 41(1) of the _Patent Act_ , which has since been repealed.[6] The section provided that, in the case of inventions relating to substances prepared or produced by chemical processes and intended for food or medicine, the application could not include claims for the substance itself except when the substance was prepared or produced by the methods or processes of manufacture particularly described and claimed by their obvious chemical equivalents. In effect, former s. 41(1) meant that substances prepared by chemical processes and intended for food or medicine could only be claimed using product-by-process claims.\n\nIn _Tennessee Eastman_ , the patent at issue included claims to a method for the surgical bonding of body tissue using an ester of cyanoacrylic acid. The compound was known, but the use of the compound in surgery was new. The issue to be decided was whether methods involving a new utility for an old compound for surgical purposes constituted an \"invention\" under s. 2 of the _Patent Act_. The Supreme Court of Canada interpreted the word \"invention\" in the context of s. 41 of the _Patent Act_ , as it then was, and ultimately decided that because the compound was old and known and therefore could not be claimed, the method of using it could also not be claimed. At that time, a therapeutic use could not be claimed by a process claim apart from the substance itself. The Court held that a new substance useful in the medical or surgical treatment of humans or animals was an invention; however, a method of medical or surgical treatment using the substance could not be claimed as a _separate_ invention. The Court reasoned that such a method claim would circumvent s. 41(1) of the _Patent Act_. The Court recognized, however, that the invention satisfied the utility requirement of the _Patent Act_ because it was active and non-toxic at therapeutic doses.\n\nIn view of the _Tennessee Eastman_ decision, the Patent Office rejects claims phrased as methods in which therapeutic or prophylactic treatment is provided to a human subject, as well as methods of surgical treatment in which the method steps require actions by a surgeon or other medical professional. Subsequent decisions have both modified and clarified the interpretation of the _Tennessee Eastman_ decision.\n\nIn _Burton Parsons Chemicals_ ,[7] the claims of the patent were directed to conducting cream, which when applied topically to the skin promotes the electrical conductivity necessary to obtain an electrocardiogram. Because the cream was merely applied to the outside of the body and had no therapeutic effect on the body, the Court held the patent to be valid. In accordance with this decision, the claimed method must involve a therapeutic effect to the subject in order to be considered a non-patentable method of medical treatment.\n\n_Re Application of Revici_ [8] relates to a patent application claiming a method of eliminating the desire for tobacco. The method involved the administration of a specific compound to the body. The applicant argued unsuccessfully that eliminating the desire to smoke did not involve an ailment in human subjects and thus was not a method of medical treatment. The Patent Appeal Board reasoned that any substance used for modifying organic functions in man or animal was a medicine in the broad sense, and thus any method involving manipulation of organic function constituted a medical treatment. Thus, method claims were cancelled. This application issued to Canadian Patent No. 1,134,748 in 1982, before conversion of method claims to \"use\" claim format was routinely adopted for resolving rejections of methods of medical treatment claims. Under current policy, it is likely that such a method of medical treatment rejection could be resolved by converting the method claims into claims reciting a use.\n\nIn _Imperial Chemical Industries_ ,[9] the claims were directed to a method of cleaning dental plaque from teeth that would result in clean teeth and a reduced likelihood of developing cavities and periodontal disease. The applicant argued that a person brushing his or her teeth was not performing a medical treatment on the basis that no professional skill was involved, and further there was a cosmetic benefit to the product. In rejecting the method claims of the application, the Court reasoned that although the application emphasized two main benefits — namely, a cosmetic benefit and the reduction in the incidence of caries and/or periodontal disease — the leading function of the invention was medical given the widespread incidence of dental diseases in the population. The Court further emphasized that it was possible to have more than one main purpose in a product and that the Commissioner did not err by characterizing the invention as having a medical function simply because it also had a cosmetic function. Notably, this application was not governed by s. 41(1) because the compositions were not produced by a chemical process. However, the Court found that, although the _Tennessee Eastman_ decision discussed the impact of s. 41(1), this case clearly and unequivocally states that methods of medical treatment are not contemplated in the definition of \"invention\" as a kind of process and the force of that pronouncement cannot be restricted to factual situations where s. 41(1) applies.\n\n_Commissioner's Decision #1086_ [10] concerned a method of surgically implanting a device into a uterus to occlude the oviduct, resulting in sterilization. The applicant argued that the method claims were directed to a method of manufacturing an article, _in situ_ — namely, an elastomer material fitted to the particular anatomy of the wearer — and that the product was of commercial value. The Patent Appeal Board decided that, because the skill of a medical practitioner was required, the method claims were directed to methods of surgical treatment. They were not persuaded that the method \"should be considered as a mechanical procedure in the field of manual or productive arts,\" regardless of whether the elastomer was a commercial item.\n\n_Commissioner's Decision #1108_ [11] concerned claims involving a method of passing blood from an individual through an extracorporeal device for the removal of pathogens. On the bases that the essential steps of the invention as claimed occurred external to the body and that there was no recitation of the body in the method claims, the Patent Appeal Board found that the claims were directed to a diagnostic and extracorporeal method rather than to a therapeutic method. Method claims were permitted.\n\n_Commissioner's Decision #1114_ [12] concerned a method of increasing skin cell turnover through the application of various formulations to the skin. The applicant argued that the claims were directed to a cosmetic method, not a method of medical treatment. In rejecting the claims, the Patent Appeal Board reasoned that the method dealt with living tissue and was designed to improve the capacity of the body by treating it to produce new cells at an improved rate, and was therefore primarily a method of medical treatment.\n\nThe _Goldenberg_ application[13] concerned a method of locating a tumour through parenteral administration of antibodies into the body. The examiner argued that since the method involved injecting immunological reagents, the metabolism of the body would be changed and thus the claimed subject matter defined a method of medical treatment. The applicant argued that the claims were directed to a diagnostic method, not a therapeutic method. The Patent Appeal Board concluded that the use of radio-labelled antibodies as tumour markers would not have a therapeutic effect. Therefore, the claims were not directed to a method of medical treatment in the strict sense, and were held allowable.\n\nThe 1982 decision in _Shell Oil_ ,[14] while unrelated to the issues of medical and surgical treatment _per se_ , is important with respect to the patentability of new uses for known compounds. The Supreme Court of Canada determined that the invention lay in the application of an old and known compound to a new use as a plant growth regulator. This use was expressed in a claim preamble, where the compound was claimed as \"a plant growth regulant.\" These claims were found to be allowable. The Court observed that the distinction between what is and what is not patentable is based on whether the subject matter is related to professional skills on the one hand or trade, industry, or commerce on the other. This case provided the groundwork for the reinterpretation of _Tennessee Eastman_ and the allowability of claims for the new use of known compounds.\n\nIn the 1988 decision of _Wayne State_ ,[15] the claims were directed to the use of a known compound for an inventive purpose: reducing tumour cell metastasis. The applicant argued that the use of the active ingredient should be construed as extending to cover activities that could be regarded as industrial in character, but not extending to the actual treatment of disease by administration of the active ingredient. The Patent Appeal Board found that, in view of the _Shell Oil_ decision, the \"use\" claim format should be allowed. Henceforth, the Patent Office has accepted claims directed to the use of a known compound or apparatus for medical treatment, provided that the claims do not contain language requiring an active step, such as \"administering\" a compound. The acceptability of \"use\" claim format was affirmed by the Federal Court in _Merck & Co. v. Apotex Inc._[16]\n\nThe claims issued in the Wayne State patent include claims to a commercial package comprising the compound of interest together with instructions for use in the specified treatment. This claim format is considered acceptable under Canadian practice even when added to an application in which literal support for the term \"commercial package\" is absent from the application as filed.\n\nIn the _General Hospital Corp._ application,[17] the claims at issue were directed to a method of preventing pregnancy. The applicant argued that pregnancy is a \"natural condition,\" not a disease. Thus, a method of preventing pregnancy should not be considered a method of medical treatment since no pathological condition is cured. In allowing the claims, the Patent Appeal Board accepted the applicant's argument that it is the main or primary use of the invention that should be considered in determining the invention's patentability. The Board therefore concluded that methods of preventing pregnancy are not methods of medical treatment in the strict sense, and are thus allowable.\n\nIn the _Senenteck_ case,[18] the claims at issue were directed to a method of treating skin cells to reduce the effects of aging. The applicant argued that aging is a natural condition of the human body, and that in humans this process will eventually result in wrinkling of the skin. Such wrinkles are not a disease or a disorder. Accordingly, a method of improving the adverse effects of aging by reducing the wrinkling of the skin is a method directed to the treatment of a _normal_ human condition and not a method directed to the treatment of a disease or disorder. The Patent Appeal Board allowed the claims, accepting the argument that aging is a natural condition of the human body, not a disease. The method was not considered to be a method of medical treatment because no pathological condition is cured.\n\nAs set out in _Re Senenteck_ and _Re General Hospital_ , aging and pregnancy are considered natural conditions that do not involve a disease state or a pathological condition. The distinction between a natural condition and a pathological condition is somewhat unclear. It may be argued that any physiological condition not involving symptoms of an unhealthy condition for a given age of patient is a \"natural\" condition. For example, it is entirely natural with age for blood pressure to increase, bones to become brittle, and hair to fall out. Following this logic, a method for treating increased blood pressure in a 65-year-old would fall within the ambit of _Re Senenteck_ as a natural condition. However, treating high blood pressure in a juvenile may be a pathological treatment and, hence, unpatentable. It is therefore difficult to discern the distinction between what constitutes a pathological state in contrast to a natural condition. Fortunately, \"use\" claim language is available for such an invention under either scenario of pathological state or natural condition. Thus, a patent application that focuses on methods for treatment of a natural condition may be permitted to include method claims. Further, it should be noted that the broad definition of the term \"medicine\" followed in _Commissioner Decision #893_ was not followed in the _General Hospital_ or _Senenteck_ applications.\n\nIn _Visx Inc. v. Nidek Co._ ,[19] claims directed to an apparatus for performing laser eye surgery, which recited a \"use\" limitation, were attacked for reciting \"professional surgical procedures\" that do not qualify under the definition of \"invention.\" The Court upheld the apparatus claims and wrote:\n\nThese patents do not teach professional skills to surgeons. They deal with an apparatus, a machine, a combination of several components. In that sense, the apparatus is similar to other medical equipment, as x-ray machines, dentist drills, scalpels, all of which are patentable if they teach an invention. The invention in the Visx patents does not pose a limitation upon the surgeons' skills. On the contrary, it is meant to assist a surgeon in his operation on the human eye. It focuses, directs and shapes the beam. It determines and controls a circular area of exposure and does the ablation. All the surgeon does is prepare the patient and enter the basic measurements into the computer. He then steps on the pedal to start the machine. Moreover, in accordance with Dr. Sher's evidence, myopia, hypermyopia and astigmatism are not diseases, they are human conditions.[20]\n\nIn _Apotex Inc. v. Wellcome Foundation Ltd._ ,[21] the respondents obtained a patent covering the use of AZT to prevent and treat HIV/AIDS. AZT was first synthesized and tested in 1964 as part of a project to find a cancer treatment for humans, and was therefore a known compound. The appellants challenged the patent's validity, claiming among other things that the patent was invalid because the claimed invention was a method of medical treatment and was therefore not patentable. The Supreme Court of Canada rejected this argument, reasoning that what was invented was a new use of a known compound and that the patentee was seeking the exclusive right to provide AZT as a commercial offering, not to \"fence in\" an area of medical treatment. The patentability of the \"use\" claim format for second indication compounds was once again affirmed.\n\nThe Federal Court of Canada arrived at a similar finding in the case of _Pfizer Canada Inc. v. Apotex Inc._ [22] The patent in this case related to a dosage form of antibiotic azithromycin. With respect to methods of medical treatment, the Court stated:\n\nAs I read claim 23, it merely instructs physicians and pharmacists that the azithromycin tablets can be administered to treat microbial infections without concern as to the patient's fed or fasted state. It doesn't instruct them on how to treat the patient. Accordingly, I see no reason to find that it is invalid on the _Tennessee Eastman_ principle.[23]\n\nThe Pfizer patent was consequently upheld.\n\nIn the 2006 decision in _Axcan Pharma Inc. v. Pharmascience Inc._ ,[24] the Court was asked to determine the validity of a patent claiming a pharmaceutical composition for treatment of biliary cirrhosis (PBC). The Court drew a distinction between a capsule dosage and a dosage range, which is determined by a physician based on factors such as a patient's weight. Since the emphasis in the patent at issue was on the dosage range rather than on actual dosage, and a dosage range is not a vendible product, the patent was held to be invalid.\n\nThe case _Merck & Co. v. Apotex Inc._[25] stands in contrast to _Axcan Pharma_. Here, the Court upheld claims directed to the dosage form of the drug alendronate monosodium trihydrate, a member of the bisphosphonate class of bone resorption inhibitors. The Court found that the patent was for a vendible product having real economic value, as demonstrated by its immediate success in the market. For this reason, the patent was found _not_ to be an unpatentable method of medical treatment.\n\nIn the decision of the Federal Court in _Janssen Inc. v. Mylan Pharmaceuticals Inc._ ,[26] it was found that delivery of a known drug to a subject in a new dosing regime, with a set titration schedule, constituted an unpatentable method of medical treatment. In this case, galantamine (a known compound), which had been previously used to treat Alzheimer's disease, was to be provided to Alzheimer's subjects in lower dosages with an advantageous effect. The patent was held as directed to a method of medical treatment, even though the claims did not recite a method _per se_ or provide any active method step in gerund verb form. It was held that the patenting of an effective titration regime would interfere with the ability of a physician to exercise judgment in the administration of a known drug for a known indication. There was some consideration of whether the exclusion of methods of medical treatment from patentable subject matter should be revisited in light of the repeal of s. 41(1) of the old _Patent Act_ as relied on in _Tennessee Eastman_ ,[27] which provided a basis for the exclusion. However, the Court held that this exclusion remains good law in Canada and serves to address public policy and public health concerns surrounding \"the provision of medical care to patients whose lives or wellbeing may be dependent upon it.\" The decision was rendered within an NOC proceeding, and thus the extent to which it will impact Patent Office policy is as yet undetermined.\n\nIn summary, the courts generally take the view that the primary purpose of a patent is economic, and thus that the claims should ultimately relate to trade, commerce, or industry (that is, vendible products) rather than to methods of medical treatment. Thus, while methods of medical treatment are unpatentable, claims relating to medicinal compounds, medical devices, and medical uses are not excluded from patentability. However, as the above case law demonstrates, the determination as to what is and what is not considered to be a method of medical treatment is highly fact-dependent, and this determination must therefore be made on a case-by-case basis.\n\n8.3 CLAIM FORMATS\n\nWhile claims directed to methods of medical treatment or surgical treatment _per se_ remain unpatentable in Canada, claims written in a \"use\" format have become a readily available alternative. Shortly following the 1988 _Wayne State_ [28] decision, \"use\" claims were deemed by the Patent Office to be an acceptable format.[29]\n\nHowever, converting method claims into \"use\" format when surgical steps are involved is a more difficult undertaking than simply converting a method claiming a second indication of a medicinal compound into a \"use\" claim. Claims directed to, for example, a new method of suturing the body with a surgical device would be difficult to successfully prosecute in Canada, since the skill of a surgeon may be deemed to be required. However, protection could be sought with the \"use\" claim format — for example, by reciting the use of a surgical device for suturing.\n\nWhen converting a method claim to a \"use\" claim, it is important to avoid the gerund verb form (for example, administering, delivering, providing) so as not to imply that active steps are being taken.\n\nThree main types of \"use\" claims are available in Canada for inventions involving medicaments: the Canadian- or German-type \"use\" claim (reciting \"a use of X for treatment of Y\"), the Swiss-type \"use\" claim (reciting \"a use of X for preparation of a medicament for treatment of Y\"), and the use-limited product claim (reciting \"a compound X for use in treating Y\"). These claim types are particularly useful in seeking patent protection for second medical indication claims to protect the use of known compounds for a new purpose, but are also available for a first medical indication of a new compound.\n\nThe Swiss-type claim format is so called because claims of this type issued from the Swiss Patent Office. The 1985 British decision of _Wyeth_ [30] refers to this claim format, and the terminology has persisted. Notably, the Swiss-type claim format has fallen out of favour in the European Patent Office, and has been displaced by the preferred use-limited product claim format.\n\nThe use-limited product claim format is particularly useful for protecting medical advances involving delivery of a compound or composition to a subject. This format was first permitted in Canada by the Patent Appeal Board in _Wayne State_ ,[31] and was affirmed by the Supreme Court of Canada in the 2002 decision of _Apotex Inc. v. Wellcome Foundation Ltd._ [32]\n\nA method claim already present within an application that has been filed in Canada can usually be converted to the above claim types, even if specific terms such as \"use,\" \"commercial package,\" or \"preparation of a medicament\" are not explicitly stated in the application as filed. A method of medical treatment claim directing the administration of a known compound for a new use (second indication), which is patent-eligible in the United States but not in Canada, typically recites: \"A method for treating disease Y comprising administering an effective amount of compound X to a subject in need thereof.\"\n\nExemplary claim types available in Canada are shown below, including \"use\" claims, use-limited product claims, and commercial package claims.\n\na. _Swiss-type \"use\" claim:_\n\n• Use of compound X for preparation of a medicament for treatment of disease Y.\n\nb. _Canadian- or German-type \"use\" claims:_\n\n• Use of compound X for treatment of disease Y.\n\nc. _Use-limited product claim:_\n\n• A composition comprising compound X and a pharmaceutically acceptable excipient for treatment of disease Y.\n\n• A pharmaceutical composition in a dosage unit form suitable for oral or parenteral administration for reducing metastasis and neoplastic growth in a mammal, which comprises X in admixture with a suitable pharmaceutically acceptable diluent or carrier.\n\n(Adapted from claim 1 considered _Wayne State_.[33])\n\nd. _Commercial package claim:_\n\n• A commercial package comprising compound X and instructions for use in treatment of disease Y.\n\n[1] _Application for Patent of Wayne State University, Re_ (1988), 22 C.P.R. (3d) 407 (P.A.B.) [ _Wayne State_ ].\n\n[2] _Merck & Co. v. Apotex Inc._, 2005 FC 755, 41 C.P.R. (4th) 35 [ _Apotex_ ].\n\n[3] _Wayne State_ , _supra_ note 1.\n\n[4] _Apotex Inc. v. Wellcome Foundation Ltd._ , 2002 SCC 77, [2002] 4 S.C.R. 153, 21 C.P.R. (4th) 499 [ _Wellcome_ ].\n\n[5] _Tennessee Eastman Co. v. Canada (Commissioner of Patents)_ , [1972] S.C.R. 111, 8 C.P.R. (2d) 202 [ _Tennessee Eastman_ ].\n\n[6] Although s. 41(1) was repealed in 1991, the Canadian Patent Office continues to apply this decision to support the non-patentability of methods of medical treatment claims.\n\n[7] _Burton Parsons Chemicals Inc. et al. v. Hewlett-Packard (Canada) Ltd. et al._ , [1976] 1 S.C.R. 555, (1974) 17 C.P.R. (2d) 97.\n\n[8] _Application of Revici, Re (now Patent No. 1,134,748)_ (1981), 71 C.P.R. (2d) 285 (P.A.B.).\n\n[9] _Imperial Chemical Industries v. Canada (Commissioner of Patents)_ (1986), 9 C.P.R. (3d) 289 (F.C.A).\n\n[10] _Patent Application No. 329,163_ (1986), Commissioner's Decision 1086.\n\n[11] _Patent Application No. 319,105_ (1987), Commissioner's Decision 1108.\n\n[12] _Patent Application No. 374,547_ (1988), Commissioner's Decision 1114.\n\n[13] _Application for Patent of Goldenberg, Re_ (1988), 22 C.P.R. (3d) 159 (P.A.B.).\n\n[14] _Shell Oil Co. v. Canada (Commissioner of Patents)_ , [1982] 2 S.C.R. 536, 67 C.P.R. (2d) 1 (S.C.C.).\n\n[15] _Wayne State_ , _supra_ note 1.\n\n[16] _Apotex_ , _supra_ note 2.\n\n[17] _General Hospital Corp. Patent Application No. 532,566, Re_ (1996), 74 C.P.R. (3d) 544 (P.A.B.).\n\n[18] _Senenteck plc, Re_ (1997), 77 C.P.R. (3d) 321 (P.A.B.).\n\n[19] _Visx Inc. v. Nidek Co._ (1999), 181 F.T.R. 22, 3 C.P.R. (4th) 417 (F.C.T.D.), aff'd 2001 FCA 215, 16 C.P.R. (4th) 251.\n\n[20] _Ibid._ at para. 173.\n\n[21] _Wellcome_ , _supra_ note 4.\n\n[22] _Pfizer Canada Inc. v. Apotex Inc._ , 2005 FC 1421, 43 C.P.R. (4th) 81.\n\n[23] _Ibid._ at para. 149.\n\n[24] _Axcan Pharma Inc. v. Pharmascience Inc._ , 2006 FC 527, 50 C.P.R. (4th) 321.\n\n[25] _Apotex_ , _supra_ note 2.\n\n[26] _Janssen Inc. v. Mylan Pharmaceuticals ULC_ , 2010 FC 1123, 88 C.P.R. (4th) 359.\n\n[27] _Tennessee Eastman_ , _supra_ note 5.\n\n[28] _Wayne State_ , _supra_ note 1.\n\n[29] The May 9, 1989 edition of the _Canadian Patent Office Record_ contained a notice effectively proclaiming that the Patent Office would no longer categorically prohibit claims commencing with the words \"Use of... .\" See _Canadian Patent Office Record_ (J.H.A. Gariépy, Commissioner of Patents) (1989) vol. 117, no. 19 at v-vi.\n\n[30] _John Wyeth and Brothers Ltd.'s Application and Schering AG's Application_ , [1985] R.P.C. 545.\n\n[31] _Wayne State_ , _supra_ note 1.\n\n[32] _Wellcome_ , _supra_ note 4.\n\n[33] _Wayne State_ , _supra_ note 1.\n\n**CHAPTER 9**\n\nBIOINFORMATICS, DIAGNOSTIC TECHNOLOGIES, AND BIOMARKERS\n\n9.1 OVERVIEW\n\nIn a general sense, the field of bioinformatics involves the application of algorithms to biological information. _In silico_ methods are often used in biological data mining — for example, to identify single nucleotide polymorphisms (SNPs) associated with a particular trait or condition, or in sequence alignment and motif recognition. Bioinformatics methods often find application in the proliferating \"-omics\" fields — including genomics, proteomics, metabalomics, and lipidomics — and other research areas focused on establishing correlations between the presence and/or abundance of given biomarkers and biological traits. Bioinformatics also includes structural modelling of macromolecules, including protein folding prediction.\n\nDiagnostic technologies encompass instruments, tools, and processes used in medical diagnosis — for example, antibodies specific for a tumor antigen, or polynucleotides useful for detecting the presence of a gene mutation associated with a cancer. Similarly, biomarkers may be employed as indicators of a metabolic state resulting from disease, poisoning, or other circumstances. Biomarkers are often components of diagnostic systems, and are often used when practising diagnostic methods.\n\nComputer-implemented methods are often necessary to collect and analyze data resulting from bioinformatics experiments. Similarly, computers are often required to practise diagnostic methods, particularly methods that rely on biopolymers or other biomarkers. For example, patent claims pertaining to either bioinformatics or diagnostic methods commonly include a step of interpretation of binding to microarrays. Patent claims reciting this common feature often meet with objections during examination on the basis that the claims allegedly relate to non-statutory subject matter.[1]\n\n9.2 BIOINFORMATICS\n\nThe _Manual of Patent Office Practice_ ( _MOPOP_ ) includes a sub-chapter on bioinformatics. _MOPOP_ indicates that the Canadian Intellectual Property Office (CIPO) takes the position that claims containing bioinformatics method steps are not excluded from patentability.[2] Applications of bioinformatics often require use of, and/or are directed to the characterization of, biopolymers.[3]\n\nSoftware used to implement bioinformatics methods may be protected by copyright. Copyright is beyond the scope of this book, but generally may protect the source code of the software being used. In contrast, a patent claim to a bioinformatics-based method can protect embodiments of the method beyond the specific code by reciting, in a more general way, the steps taken to achieve the method itself. Claims to bioinformatics-related methods may thus remain applicable and relevant after new software and hardware replaces the specific software and hardware used to implement the method as of the claim date.[4]\n\nSystems and methods of biological sequence analysis and database query tools are examples of bioinformatics-based inventions that may be statutory subject matter. However, a bioinformatics patent application disclosing and claiming a method of identifying biopolymers cannot include claims to a biopolymer found using this method until after such a biopolymer is identified and adequately characterized. Claims to as-yet-unidentified end results from a method or process are termed \"reach-through claims.\" _MOPOP_ indicates that CIPO takes the position that such claims are not patentable, because the subject matter of the claim is not adequately described.[5]\n\nWhere the results of bioinformatics-based research are adequately characterized, the results may form the basis of an invention that will be viewed as statutory subject matter. Such results may be claimed on the basis of, among other things, utility in diagnostic methods — for example, as biomarkers of a disease or other condition (see below).\n\nOther types of innovations or discoveries resulting from bioinformatics-based research may not be considered statutory subject matter. For example, _MOPOP_ indicates that CIPO considers neither the three-dimensional atomic coordinates of a biomolecule nor a computer model of a biomolecule to be statutory subject matter.[6]\n\n9.3 DIAGNOSTIC TECHNOLOGIES AND BIOMARKERS\n\nDiagnostic technologies generally include devices or techniques useful in diagnosis of a condition. Biomarkers generally include a compound or biopolymer sequence (often encoding a gene with a specific mutation), the presence or abundance of which is correlated with a disease or some other trait. A biomarker may be claimed as a composition of matter, provided it meets other requirements for patentability.[7] A biomarker may also be claimed on the basis of its use in a diagnostic method. Diagnostic methods may result in identification of an existing condition, or may identify patients at risk of developing the condition in the future. Diagnosed traits may also include pharmacogenomic associations between one or more genetic variants and drug efficacy or safety. Claims to diagnostic methods that do not include medical treatment may be statutory subject matter.[8]\n\nIf a biopolymer is discovered to have a specific sequence associated with a regulatory function or disease, use of the biopolymer could be claimed on the basis of diagnostic or therapeutic utility, even if the sequence itself was previously present in a public database or was otherwise previously known.[9] Similarly, if a relationship is discovered between a small molecule and a regulatory function or disease, claims to the use of the small molecule may be statutory subject matter (for example, a monosaccharide, nucleotide, nucleoside, lipid, or any small molecule metabolic intermediary).[10]\n\nThe patentability of diagnostic technologies has long been a point of controversy between corporations, organizations opposed to gene patenting, and government bodies. A discussion of ethical concerns is beyond the scope of this book. In the United States, the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Federal Circuit upheld claims covering diagnostic methods.[11] The Court ruled that cDNAs and partial isolated gene sequences were patentable subject matter under 35 U.S.C. §101 (\"Inventions Patentable\"). The Court concluded that the claimed substances were \"markedly different — have a distinctive chemical identity and nature\" — from the naturally occurring versions of the substances, and thus met the requirements for patentability. With regard to the method claims, the Court confirmed that where a claim relates to specific applications rather than mere abstract processes, and where method claims pass the \"machine-or-transformation\" test, the methods are patentable subject matter.[12] In Canada, the recognition by U.S. courts that the physical \"machine or transformation\" test is \"an investigative tool for determining whether some claimed inventions are processes under §101\" has been acknowledged by the Federal Court.[13] However, there is no requirement for material objects to physically change when a method is practised.[14]\n\n9.4 COMPUTER-IMPLEMENTED METHODS\n\nA review of the implications of claiming methods including computer-implemented steps is beyond the scope of this book, but will be found in BLG's forthcoming book on high-tech patent practice. Briefly, the _Patent Act_ excludes any \"mere scientific principle or abstract theorem\" from patentability.[15] As discussed above, in _Amazon.com_ , the Court held that there is no requirement for material objects to physically change when a method is practised. The Court also held that a claim to a computer-implemented business method was not \"simply a scheme, plan or disembodied idea; it is a practical application of the one-click concept, put into action through the use of cookies, computers, the internet and the customer's own action,\" and that the corresponding claim was patentable.[16]\n\nOn this basis, computer-implemented inventions such as diagnostic technologies, modelling, and sequence alignment methods may be patentable. However, at the time of writing, there is a great deal of uncertainty in this practice area, given that CIPO has appealed the Court's decision in _Amazon.com_. To reduce the likelihood of objections from CIPO on the ground that such claims are directed to non-statutory subject matter, claims may be drafted to include a computer or another tangible component, such as a computer readable memory, a display, or an input system.\n\n9.5 CLAIM FORMATS\n\nBioinformatics patent claim types may be system, apparatus, or method claims. Sample claim preambles and formats for use with bioinformatics inventions are provided below.\n\na. _System claims reciting a tangible component_\n\n• A computer system comprising...\n\n• A system comprising...\n\nb. _Apparatus, product, or medium claims reciting functional components_\n\n• A programmable apparatus for analyzing signals comprising...\n\n• A computer program product comprising...\n\n(The medium on which the program is embodied is to be recited in the claim.)\n\nc. _Method claims reciting steps involving tangible components_\n\n• A method for identifying molecular interactions comprising the steps of...\n\n• A method of maximizing open reading frame length comprising...\n\n• A computer-implemented method for...\n\n• A method of displaying the genetic locus of a biomolecular sequence comprising...\n\n• A structural alignment method comprising the steps of...\n\nd. _Claims relating to diagnostic technologies_\n\n• A method of diagnosing condition X comprising:\n\n\\- isolating DNA from a patient sample;\n\n\\- sequencing a single nucleotide polymorphism, SNP123; and\n\n\\- diagnosing condition X if an adenine is present at SNP123.\n\n• A method for detecting and localizing a tumour, without medically treating said tumour, the method comprising:\n\n\\- providing a substance that is labelled with a diagnostically effective amount of a detectable isotope;\n\n\\- injecting a subject with the substance;\n\n\\- allowing the substance to localize at the site of the tumour; and\n\n\\- detecting the isotope to localize the site of the tumour in the subject.\n\n• A method of predicting an adverse reaction to drug Y comprising:\n\n\\- isolating RNA from a patient sample;\n\n\\- reverse-transcribing the RNA to form a cDNA pool;\n\n\\- PCR-amplifying gene Z from the cDNA pool to yield a gene Z RT-PCR product; and\n\n\\- sequencing the gene Z RT-PCR product, wherein a guanine at position 234 is indicative of a 90 percent probability of an adverse reaction to drug Y.\n\n• A method of analyzing a tissue sample from a subject to diagnose cancer in the subject, the method comprising:\n\n\\- adding a solution to the sample to produce a suspension;\n\n\\- homogenizing the sample in the suspension to produce a homogenate;\n\n\\- separating the homogenate into a soluble fraction from an insoluble fraction;\n\n\\- reacting the soluble fraction with antibody specific for an antigen; and\n\n\\- detecting specific binding of the antibody with the antigen;\n\nwherein specific binding of the antibody to the antigen indicates the presence of a tumour expressing the antigen.\n\n• A method of determining breast cancer tumour grade comprising:\n\n\\- taking a sample from a tumour;\n\n\\- extracting RNA from said sample; and\n\n\\- performing array-based hybridization with said RNA to measure global gene expression,\n\nwherein (a) increased expression of genes A1 and A2 relative to a normal control is indicative of a grade III tumour; (b) increased expression of the gene A1 and unchanged or decreased expression of the gene A2 relative to said normal control is indicative of a grade II tumour; and (c) unchanged or decreased expression of the genes A1 and A2 relative to said normal control is indicative of a grade I tumour.\n\n[1] See Chapter 1, Overview of the Canadian Patent System, section 1.3.1, \"Definition of Invention.\" Statutory subject matter is subject matter that, if new, inventive, and useful, may properly be the subject matter of a claim.\n\n[2] For further discussion, see Chapter 5, Biopolymers: DNA, RNA, and Proteins.\n\n[3] _Manual of Patent Office Practice_ , online: The Canadian Intellectual Property Office <<http://www.cipo.ic.gc.ca/eic/site/cipointernet-internetopic.nsf/eng/h_wr00720.html>>, s. 17.02.04 [ _MOPOP_ ].\n\n[4] See Chapter 1, _supra_ note 1, section 1.2, \"Claim Date.\"\n\n[5] _MOPOP_ , _supra_ note 3, s. 17.07.03.\n\n[6] _Ibid._ , s. 17.02.04. For example, the primary structure of a protein characterized by bioinformatics as opposed to the protein itself; see Chapter 5, _supra_ note 2.\n\n[7] See Chapter 5, _supra_ note 2, section 5.3, \"Guidance on Specific Biopolymer-Related Subject Matter,\" for further discussion.\n\n[8] _Application for Patent of Goldenberg, Re_ (1988), Commissioner's Decision 1119, 22 C.P.R. (3d) 159 (P.A.B.). See Chapter 8, Medical Treatments and Second Medical Uses, for further discussion.\n\n[9] See Chapter 5, _supra_ note 2.\n\n[10] See Chapter 4, Chemical Compounds.\n\n[11] _Association for Molecular Pathology et al. v. US Patent and Trademark Office et al._ , 99 USPQ2d 1398 (Fed. Cir. 2011) [ _Myriad_ ].\n\n[12] _Ibid._\n\n[13] _Amazon.com Inc._ , 2010 FC 1011, 86 C.P.R. (4th) 321 at para. 55 [ _Amazon.com_ ], leave to appeal to F.C.A. requested, A-435-10 (21 June 2010); No written judgment has published prior to this edition going to print. The result of the appeal will be reviewed in BLG's forthcoming book on high-tech patent practice.\n\n[14] _Ibid._ at paras. 59-60.\n\n[15] R.S.C. 1985, c. P-4, s. 27(8).\n\n[16] _Amazon.com_ , _supra_ note 13 at para. 75.\n\n**CHAPTER 10**\n\nPLANT BREEDERS' RIGHTS\n\n10.1 OVERVIEW\n\nCanada has yet to allow the patenting of higher life forms such as plants.[1] However, new plant varieties, reproduced sexually or asexually, can be protected under the _Plant Breeders' Rights Act_.[2] New genetically modified varieties produced through biotechnology can also be protected. These rights are granted by the Plant Breeders' Rights Office (PBRO), administered through the Canadian Food Inspection Agency. The _Plant Breeders' Rights Act_ provides protection in Canada in a manner similar to the protection provided by the _Plant Patent Act_ and the _Plant Variety Protection Act_ [3] in the United States.\n\nThe _Plant Breeders' Rights Act_ came into force on August 1, 1990. It provides protection for plant-propagating material in Canada for a term of 18 years. All plant species, except algae, bacteria, and fungi, are eligible for protection.[4] A certificate is awarded to the applicant for a truly distinctive, uniform, and stable variety.\n\n10.2 RIGHTS CONFERRED TO HOLDER OF A PLANT BREEDERS' RIGHT\n\n10.2.1 Rights\n\nA holder of a plant breeders' right (PBR) has the exclusive right:\n\na. to sell, and to produce in Canada for the purpose of selling, the propagating material of the variety;\n\nb. to make repeated use of propagating material of the plant variety in order to commercially produce another variety — that is, to produce hybrids;\n\nc. to use ornamental plants or plant parts as propagating material in the commercial production of ornamental plants or cut flowers; and\n\nd. to license to a third party such rights.\n\n10.2.2 Term of the Rights\n\nPBRs are granted for a term of 18 years from the date of issue of the certificate. An annual fee must be paid to maintain the rights.\n\n10.2.3 Limits on Rights\n\nRights extend only to the propagating material. This includes the seed, the cuttings, and parts that can be used to propagate the plant vegetatively. The rights do not extend to the actual plant. So, for example, once seed is sold to a farmer, the farmer can grow the seed into a plant, and sell the plant or plant parts in any non-propagating form (for example, for food or feed, but not for further propagation).\n\nThe Canadian _Plant Breeders' Rights Act_ does not refer to a \"farmer's exemption\" (also known as a \"farmer's privilege\") _per se_ as is provided under U.S. law. However, because the exclusive right granted relates to sales, growers may save and use protected propagating material, as long as they do not sell the material for use in further propagation. For example, once a grower has bought protected seed, the grower is permitted to plant the seed, grow it, retain seed from the progeny, and grow the progeny's seed. In addition, if a breeder sells seeds to a grower, the grower can resell the seeds to someone else. However, infringement would result if the grower planted the seeds and then sold the seed produced from the resulting plant.\n\nProtected varieties of plants may be used for breeding and developing new plant varieties, without infringing the rights granted under a PBR.\n\n10.3 CRITERIA VARIETIES MUST MEET\n\nFor a new variety to be granted a certificate, it must be new, distinct, uniform, and stable.[5] Evaluations of these criteria are based on test results and characteristics that must be provided by the applicant. More information on how to objectively describe the characteristics and how to conduct the required tests can be found in the Objective Description form that comprises part of the test guidelines[6] available for all categories of plants. A completed Objective Description form is not required for filing the application, but it must be completed and submitted before the examination of the application is completed.\n\n10.3.1 Novelty\n\nThe sale of a candidate variety prior to application for protection is restricted. Varieties may not have been sold _in_ Canada prior to the effective filing date. Varieties, excluding those of woody plants and their rootstocks, may have been sold _outside_ Canada for up to four years prior to the effective filing date. Varieties of woody plants and their rootstocks may have been sold _outside_ Canada for up to six years prior to the effective filing date. The effective filing date is the date an application was filed in Canada, or the date an application for protection was filed in another UPOV (International Union for the Protection of New Varieties of Plants) country from which priority is claimed.\n\n10.3.2 Distinctness\n\nTo be distinct, a new variety must be clearly distinguishable by one or more characteristics from all varieties known to exist within common knowledge at the filing date (or priority date if applicable) of an application.[7] Varieties of common knowledge include those cultivated or exploited for commercial purposes or disclosed in a publication accessible to the public.[8] A new variety should be described by as many characteristics as possible to ensure its proper identification during examination and infringement proceedings.\n\nA new variety must be compared with the most similar reference variety currently grown in Canada. The variety applied for and the reference variety must be described by the same characteristics. A new variety will be considered distinct if the difference(s) from the reference variety has (have) been shown in at least one testing place in Canada and the difference is clear and consistent.[9] It is preferable to use visual characteristics to distinguish a new variety. A photograph of results from biotechnology techniques may be accepted when morphological characteristics are not easily visible. In most circumstances, differences are considered consistent and sufficient for demonstrating distinctiveness if they occur in two consecutive growing seasons or in two out of three growing seasons. The minimum testing required is two years for sexually reproduced varieties and one year for asexually reproduced varieties.[10]\n\n10.3.3 Uniformity\n\nA new variety must be homogeneous.[11] Any variation in the characteristics of certified plants upon reproduction or propagation in substantial quantities must be predictable, describable, and commercially acceptable.[12] The extent of variations permitted — that is, the number of off-types present due to occasional mixture, mutation, or other causes — depends on whether the variety is vegetatively propagated, self-pollinated, or cross-pollinated.\n\n10.3.4 Stability\n\nA new variety is considered stable when it remains true to its description after repeated reproduction or propagation.[13] The stability of a variety is tested by growing a further generation of new seed stock.\n\n10.4 WHO CAN APPLY\n\nThe applicant may be the breeder, or an employer or legal representative of the breeder. The applicant must also be a citizen of, a resident of, or have a registered office in Canada or a UPOV member country. All applications require a Canadian address to which correspondence from the PBRO may be sent. Applicants resident outside Canada must appoint an agent who is resident in Canada to submit an application on their behalf.\n\n10.5 FILING AND EXAMINATION REQUIREMENTS\n\nThe Plant Breeders' Rights Office describes the application for a plant breeder's right as a three-part process:[14] filing of the application, examination of the application, and grant of rights. To obtain a plant breeder's rights certificate for a new variety, a complete PBR application form must be filed with the required filing fee. Applicants who do not reside in Canada must appoint an agent who resides in Canada.[15] Items that must be completed on the application form include:[16]\n\na. a proposed denomination for the variety;\n\nb. a description of the origin and breeding history of the variety;\n\nc. a statement of uniformity and stability;\n\nd. a distinctiveness statement;\n\ne. samples of propagating material (where applicable);\n\nf. a description of how and where the variety will be maintained;\n\ng. details regarding previous commercialization and/or protection of the variety;\n\nh. evidence establishing the applicant to be a legal representative (where applicable); and\n\ni. authorization of agent (where applicable).\n\nThe filing requirements for seed samples vary from plant category to plant category.[17] Vegetatively propagated crops are exempt from the seed sample filing requirement.\n\nIf a corresponding application was previously filed in another country that is a signatory to the UPOV Convention,[18] priority may be claimed from it.[19] The applicant must claim priority within one year of the filing date of the application in a UPOV country. A certified copy of the priority application must be submitted within three months after an application is filed in Canada.\n\nExamination of the application commences after a Request for Site Examination form is completed and submitted with the examination fee.[20] Examination should be requested within four years of the original application filing date to avoid abandonment of the application.\n\nIt should be noted that field examination in Canada is somewhat different from that in most countries in which the Plant Breeders' Rights Office grows and tests the submitted propagating material. In Canada the applicant must arrange for a grower to grow the material and the examiner then arranges to visit the site. The Office can and often does assist applicants in identifying growers. The completed Request for Site Examination form for each candidate variety includes details of the proposed site and approximate date for site examination as well as denomination of similar reference varieties. Within six months of completion of site examination conducted by the PBR examiner, the applicant must submit the following:[21]\n\n• A completed Description form (part of the test guideline). This provides a thorough description of the candidate variety in the event that the breeders' right is challenged.\n\n• A description of the trials. This is important so that the trial can be duplicated if required.\n\n• Comparative photographs (with the reference variety or varieties).\n\nThe grower, if experienced, can be of great help in preparing these materials.\n\nIf, after examination, the Commissioner of Plant Breeders' Rights finds that the variety described in the application is new, distinctive, uniform, and stable, a plant breeder's rights certificate is issued to the applicant upon payment of an issue fee. An annual fee must also be paid to keep the certificate in force.\n\n10.6 OBJECTIONS TO PLANT BREEDERS' RIGHTS APPLICATIONS\n\nAny person who considers that an application under examination should be refused a grant of rights may file an objection. The objection may be made for any incompatibility with the Act or Regulations. For example, someone who feels that the new proposed variety is not distinct from a known variety may file an objection. Such objections must be filed with the PBRO within six months of publication of the application in the _Plant Varieties Journal_.[22]\n\n10.7 LICENSING\n\nTo exercise any rights granted under a PBR, a person must first obtain permission from the holder of such rights. Such permission is usually in the form of a licence. For example, a grower who wishes to propagate a protected variety for the purpose of selling it must obtain a licence from the holder of the PBR. The grower could be held liable if he or she propagates and sells a protected variety without prior permission. A grower should not assume that he or she will be protected from a charge of infringement simply because he or she proposes to pay a royalty to the rights holder afterward, because the rights holder is under no obligation to grant a licence.\n\nLicensing (except for compulsory licensing) does not fall under the PBR legislation. A licence is an implied or written agreement between two or more parties granting rights. In licences relating to PBRs, the terms most frequently included are (1) payment terms (for example, royalties or lump-sum payments); (2) length of term (for example, for all or part of the term of the certificate); and (3) geographical restrictions (for example, worldwide or only in Canada).\n\nA compulsory licence may be granted to anyone who can demonstrate that the holder of the right has unreasonably refused to license it.[23] However, the PBRO will not grant a compulsory licence until any party that would be adversely affected by the granting of the compulsory licence (that is, the rights holder and any other licensees) is permitted the opportunity to present his or her case. A request for exemption from compulsory licensing can be made at the time of application for PBR; however, such a request is granted only if the applicant requires time to multiply and distribute propagating material.\n\n[1] See Chapter 7, Living Matter (Life Forms), for more on this topic.\n\n[2] S.C. 1990, c. 20 [ _PBRA_ ].\n\n[3] _Plant Variety Protection Act_ , 82 U.S.C. §1542.\n\n[4] _PBRA_ , _supra_ note 2, s. 27(1). See also _Plant Breeders' Rights Regulations_ , S.O.R./91-594, s. 3, Sch. I [ _PBRR_ ].\n\n[5] _PBRA_ , _supra_ note 2, s. 4.\n\n[6] See generally _Guidelines for Conducting Plant Breeders' Rights — Comparative Tests and Trials_ (15 March 2011), online: Canada Food Inspection Agency <<http://www.inspection.gc.ca/english/plaveg/pbrpov/testsessaise.shtml>>.\n\n[7] _PBRA_ , _supra_ note 2, s. 4(2)(a).\n\n[8] _PBRR_ , _supra_ note 4, ss. 5(a)-(b).\n\n[9] _PBRA_ , _supra_ note 2, ss. 4(2)(a)-(b).\n\n[10] _Supra_ note 6 at para. 2.\n\n[11] _PBRA_ , _supra_ note 2, ss. 4(2)-(3).\n\n[12] _Ibid._ , s. 4(2)(b).\n\n[13] _Ibid._\n\n[14] See _Applying for Plant Breeders' Rights — A Three Part Process_ (15 March 2011), online: Canada Food Inspection Agency <<http://www.inspection.gc.ca/english/plaveg/pbrpov/appdeme.shtml>>.\n\n[15] _PBRA_ , _supra_ note 2, s. 9(2).\n\n[16] See _Plant Breeders' Rights — Application Form for Filing Purposes_ (March 2011), online: <<http://www.inspection.gc.ca/english/for/pdf/c5087e.pdf>>. See also _PBRR_ , _supra_ note 4, s. 19(1).\n\n[17] Some plant categories comprise more than one species — for example, blueberry.\n\n[18] _PBRA_ , _supra_ note 2, s. 11(1).\n\n[19] _Ibid._\n\n[20] _Supra_ note 6.\n\n[21] _Ibid._ at para. 5 (Note that the test guidelines vary from plant category to plant category and that the Plant Breeders' Rights Office should be contacted for up-to-date test guidelines for the plant category in question.) _PBRR_ , _supra_ note 4, s. 20.\n\n[22] _Supra_ note 6 at para. 8.\n\n[23] _PBRA_ , _supra_ note 2, ss. 32-33.\n\n**PART III**\n\nREGULATORY ISSUES\n\n**CHAPTER 11**\n\nPATENTED MEDICINES (NOTICE OF COMPLIANCE) REGULATIONS\n\n11.1 INTRODUCTION\n\nThe data protection regime and the regime set out in the _Patented Medicines (Notice of Compliance) Regulations_ ( _PMNOC Regulations_ ) represent two systems that provide challenges for both innovator and generic companies. While the _PMNOC Regulations_ set out rights and requirements, extensive case law has developed in respect of these regulations. Below is a brief overview of the relevant legislation and jurisprudence.\n\n11.2 DATA PROTECTION\n\nThe first regime to consider relates to data protection. In 2006, amendments were made to the _Food and Drug Regulations_ , providing data protection to \"innovative drugs.\"[1] Innovative drugs are defined to be those that contain a medicinal ingredient that has not previously been approved in a drug. This definition specifically excludes variations of a previously approved medicinal ingredient such as a salt, ester, enantiomer, solvate, or polymorph.[2] The Court in _Epicept Corporation v. Minister of Health_ [3] found that the medicinal ingredient cannot have been approved previously in _any_ drug, and is not limited to those drugs that have received marketing authorization. In Canada, marketing authorization is issued as a Notice of Compliance (NOC), which indicates that a drug is considered to be safe and effective. However, the Court recently found that a drug provided through the Special Access Program (SAP) has not been approved in Canada for the purposes of data protection.[4] SAP allows Canadians to have emergency access to drugs that are not available for sale in Canada.[5] This is an area that will continue to be explored and tested in the courts.\n\nWhen a drug meets the definition of innovative drug, a subsequent manufacturer cannot file a submission seeking an NOC that makes a direct or indirect comparison to the innovative drug for six years after the day on which the first NOC is granted to the innovator. The Minister of Health (Minister) cannot issue an NOC to the subsequent manufacturer for eight years after the day on which the first NOC is granted to the innovator. This two-year period between when a subsequent manufacturer can make a submission and when it can receive an NOC corresponds to the time period required by the subsequent manufacturer to meet its obligations under the _PMNOC Regulations_ , as described below.[6] This period can be extended a further six months if the results of clinical trials relating to the use of the innovative drug in pediatric populations is provided to the Minister.[7]\n\nThe Minister is required to maintain a Register of Innovative Drugs (Register).[8] The Federal Court recently held that the Canadian Generic Pharmaceutical Association is not directly affected by a decision of the Minister to include a particular drug on the Register and therefore does not have standing to challenge the Minister's decision.[9]\n\nThere are exceptions to this period of data protection, such as if the drug is not being marketed in Canada,[10] or if the innovator consents to the filing of an Abbreviated New Drug Submission (ANDS) or the issuance of an NOC.[11]\n\nIt is important to consider, in addition to the data protection provision, the _PMNOC Regulations_ , which tie marketing approval to patent issues, as discussed below.\n\n11.3 PATENTED MEDICINES (NOTICE OF COMPLIANCE) REGULATIONS GENERALLY\n\nIn recognition that the regulatory approval process under the _Food and Drugs Act_ [12] takes time, and to facilitate timely entry of generic drugs onto the market upon patent expiry, an \"early working\" exception to patent infringement is included in the _Patent Act_. The provision states:\n\nIt is not an infringement of a patent for any person to make, construct, use or sell the patented invention solely for uses reasonably related to the development and submission of information required under any law of Canada, a province or a country other than Canada that regulates the manufacture, construction, use or sale of any product.[13]\n\nThe provision essentially permits a generic drug manufacturer to make, use, or sell a generic version of a patented drug prior to patent expiry, as long as the activities are _solely_ related to the development and submission of information required to obtain regulatory approval of the product anywhere in the world.\n\nThe Governor in Council is authorized to make regulations to prevent infringement of pharmaceutical patents.[14] Accordingly, the _PMNOC Regulations_ [15] were established, coming into force on March 12, 1993.[16] These are commonly referred to as the \"linkage\" regulations because they create a link, for practical purposes, between the _Patent Act_ and the _Food and Drugs Act_.\n\nThe _PMNOC Regulations_ were amended in 1998, 1999, 2006, and 2008. Significant amendments came into force on October 5, 2006.[17] As used herein, \"old _Regulations_ \" refers to the _PMNOC Regulations_ as they read prior to coming into force of the 2006 amendments.\n\nIn order to trigger the protection of the _PMNOC Regulations_ , an innovator must list patents on the Patent Register in respect of their product, as set out below.\n\n11.4 THE LINK BETWEEN REGULATORY APPROVAL AND THE PATENT REGISTER\n\nUnder the framework governing the approval of medicines, a pharmaceutical manufacturer must obtain regulatory approval from the Minister, in the form of an NOC, before a drug can be lawfully marketed and sold in Canada. Receiving approval from the Minister in Canada is akin to receiving FDA approval in the United States.\n\nBefore an NOC will be issued, the drug in question must be shown to comply with prescribed regulatory standards pursuant to the _Food and Drugs Act_ [18] and the _Food and Drug Regulations_.[19] Where a drug has not been marketed in Canada for a period of time sufficient to establish its safety and efficacy, it is considered a \"new drug\" and its manufacturer must file a New Drug Submission (NDS) as part of the regulatory process.[20] An NDS includes sufficient information to allow the Minister to assess the safety and effectiveness of the new drug, and the requirements are set out in the _Food and Drug Regulations_.[21]\n\nThe content of an NDS is typically regarded as confidential proprietary information. However, a request can be made for some of this information pursuant to the _Access to Information Act_.[22] Recent decisions set out the type of evidence needed to prevent the disclosure, and the type of information that may be released.[23] A supplementary NDS (SNDS) can also be filed, seeking approval for a change made to an approved drug, such as a change in the formulation or a new indication.\n\nThe _PMNOC Regulations_ set out the rights and obligations of what is termed a \"first person\" and a \"second person.\" These definitions generally correspond to an innovator and a generic manufacturer, respectively. For the purposes of the _PMNOC Regulations_ , a \"first person\" is defined to be the person who files the NDS or SNDS.[24] A \"second person\" is defined to be the person who files a submission that directly or indirectly compares its drug to another drug marketed in Canada.[25] In the context of a submission relating to a small molecule, the second person's submission is called an Abbreviated New Drug Submission (ANDS) or a Supplemental ANDS (SANDS). Submissions that relate to a Subsequent Entry Biologic (SEB) will be addressed in Chapter 13.\n\nThe _PMNOC Regulations_ provide a scheme whereby a first person can submit to the Minister a patent list containing prescribed information about one or more patents relevant to a particular product for which it has filed an NDS or an SNDS.[26] Patents meeting the eligibility and timing requirements set forth in the _PMNOC Regulations_ [27] discussed below, will be added to a public Patent Register[28] maintained by the Therapeutic Products Directorate under the Minister, after an NOC has issued.[29] The Minister has discretion to add or delete patents from the Patent Register.[30] Where a patent is listed on the Patent Register in relation to a drug submission, and the drug identification number (DIN) is subsequently cancelled, the Minister is required to remove the patent from the Register within 90 days of cancellation.[31] However, the patent will be re-added to the Patent Register if a new DIN is assigned for the same drug.[32]\n\n11.4.1 Listing Patents with an NDS\n\nThe timing and eligibility requirements for listing a patent in relation to an NDS are set out in s. 4 of the _PMNOC Regulations_.[33] A patent list must be filed at the same time that the NDS is filed.[34] This deadline cannot be extended.\n\nA patent can be added to the Patent Register in relation to an NDS if it contains:\n\na. a claim for the approved medicinal ingredient;\n\nb. a claim for the approved formulation containing the medicinal ingredient;\n\nc. a claim for the approved dosage form; or\n\nd. a claim for the approved use(s).[35]\n\nThe terms \"claim for the dosage form,\" \"claim for the formulation,\" \"claim for the medicinal ingredient,\" and \"claim for the use of the medicinal ingredient\" are defined in the _PMNOC Regulations_.[36] As a result of the amendments in 2006, the _PMNOC Regulations_ require the patent to be relevant to the commercial product; patents that do not relate to the product as marketed, such as a use for which approval has not been granted, are not eligible for listing on the Patent Register unless and until approval has been granted.\n\nIn the context of determining whether use claims are eligible for listing, the Court has held that three questions should be considered with respect to a submission: (1) What use does the patent claim? (2) What is the use approved by the existing NOC? and (3) Is the use claimed by the patent approved by the existing NOC?[37] This three-step analysis has been accepted in contexts other than new uses.[38]\n\nThe Court has determined that a patent that claims a formulation containing only one medicinal ingredient is not relevant for the purposes of listing in respect of a drug product that contains two medicinal ingredients.[39] Similarly, the Court found that a dosage form for administering a formulation containing a sole medicinal ingredient is different to a dosage form for administering a formulation containing two medicinal ingredients. Accordingly, a patent containing claims to a dosage form containing one medicinal ingredient is not eligible for listing in respect of a dosage form containing two medicinal ingredients.[40]\n\nOnce a patent has been listed with an NDS, a first person may resubmit the same list with an SNDS, including SNDSs relating to administrative changes, but is limited in the new patents that can be added with an SNDS, as set out below.[41]\n\n11.4.2 Listing Patents with an SNDS\n\nA new patent list may only be submitted in respect of an SNDS if the SNDS relates to:\n\na. a change in formulation;\n\nb. a change in dosage form; or\n\nc. a change in use of the medicinal ingredient.[42]\n\nAccordingly, a new patent cannot be listed with an SNDS for an administrative change, such as an update to a product monograph.[43] Further, it should be noted that patents claiming a medicinal ingredient cannot be listed with an SNDS, and must be listed with the NDS.\n\nThere is a further requirement that in order for a patent to be listed on the Patent Register in connection with an SNDS, the patent must contain a claim relevant to the change for which approval is being sought.[44] In respect of an SNDS for a change in use, the Court has interpreted this to be a requirement that the claims of the patent claim \"the very use\" that was approved by the issuance of the NOC in response to the SNDS.[45]\n\n11.4.3 Listing Newly Issued Patents\n\nOnly issued patents can be listed on the Patent Register. Where an eligible patent issues after the date on which the drug submission is filed, a first person may submit that patent for listing on the Patent Register within 30 days of issuance, provided that the filing date of the patent application precedes the filing date of the drug submission against which listing is sought.[46]\n\nThe patentee is responsible for keeping the information on the Patent Register up to date but a new patent list can only be submitted as prescribed in the _PMNOC Regulations_ , as described above.[47]\n\n11.4.4 The 2008 Amendments Relate to Grandfathered Patents\n\nThe 2008 amendments to the _PMNOC Regulations_ added a grandfathering provision stating that patents on patent lists submitted prior to June 17, 2006 remain subject to the listing requirements as they read and were interpreted before that date. Prior to 2006, the _PMNOC Regulations_ did not contain a requirement that a patent must be relevant to the commercial product in order to be listed on the Patent Register. In _Ratiopharm Inc. v. Wyeth and Wyeth Canada_ ,[48] the Federal Court of Appeal rendered a new interpretation of the listing requirements in the old _PMNOC Regulations_ , essentially bringing them into line with the new requirements — namely, that there be relevance between the listed patent and the commercial product against which the patent was listed. The patent at issue was deleted from the Patent Register, and the decision represented a precedent for the removal of similarly listed patents on the Patent Register.\n\nIn response to this decision, further amendments to the _PMNOC Regulations_ were drafted, which came into force on June 12, 2008.[49] As a result of these amendments, the Minister shall not delete a patent added to the Patent Register prior to the amendments made in 2006 unless the patent expires, is declared invalid or void, the DIN is cancelled, or the patent is found not to be eligible for listing on the Register.[50] The Minister cannot refuse to add a patent to the Register on a patent list submitted prior to the coming into force of the 2006 amendments solely because the patent is not relevant to the submission.[51]\n\nOnce patents are listed on the Patent Register, a generic manufacturer will have to deal with these patents before being allowed to come to market with a generic version. This process is described in more detail below.\n\n11.5 GENERIC SUBMISSIONS THAT TRIGGER THE PMNOC REGULATIONS\n\nIn the case of small molecule drugs,[52] where a generic manufacturer, a \"second person,\" seeks approval to market a generic version of an approved innovator drug, it must likewise make a submission to the Minister for approval. Where the second person can satisfy the Minister that its product is bioequivalent to a Canadian Reference Product for which an NOC has already issued, the second person may file an ANDS, comparing its product to the approved Canadian reference product and may rely on the safety and efficacy data generated by the first person to obtain its own approval.[53] The owner of a Canadian Reference Product cannot become involved in Health Canada's consideration of the ANDS or SNDS. The Court has repeatedly denied standing to the owner of the Canadian Reference Product on the basis that the issues under the _Food and Drug Regulations_ do not affect the rights of the first person provided by the _PMNOC Regulations_ , and the first person is therefore not directly affected.[54]\n\nThe _PMNOC Regulations_ are triggered if a second person files a drug submission that \"directly or indirectly compares the drug with, or makes reference to, another drug marketed in Canada under a notice of compliance\" in respect of which a patent list has been submitted.[55]\n\nOnce an ANDS or SEB submission has been submitted, a second person is not required to address any patents listed on the Patent Register by the first person after the date the ANDS or SEB submission was filed.[56] This is commonly referred to as a \"patent freeze.\"\n\nThe procedure that is triggered once a second person files an ANDS or SEB submission is set out below.\n\n11.6 PROCEEDINGS UNDER THE PMNOC REGULATIONS\n\n11.6.1 Notice of Allegation\n\nWhen a second person files an ANDS or SEB submission comparing its proposed product to an approved innovator product in respect of which patents are listed on the Patent Register, the _PMNOC Regulations_ are triggered to ensure that all patents on the Patent Register are addressed before an NOC issues to the second person.\n\nIn its submission, a second person must address each patent listed on the Patent Register in connection with the approved innovator product. The second person may elect to wait until all relevant patents have expired before receiving its NOC or may make one or more allegations in respect of each of the patents, alleging that:\n\na. certain statements made by the first person in listing the patent are false,\n\nb. the patent has expired,\n\nc. the patent is invalid, or\n\nd. no claim of the patent would be infringed by the second person if it received an NOC.[57]\n\nThe second person must also prepare a Notice of Allegation (NOA), including a detailed statement, providing a factual and legal basis for any allegation made in respect of the listed patents. All allegations and issues intended to be raised by the second person must be included in the NOA.[58] There is no ability to amend the NOA.[59] The NOA must be served on the first person and filed with the Minister along with proof of service.[60]\n\nOnce served with an NOA, the first person has the option to do nothing or to commence legal proceedings under the _PMNOC Regulations_. The first person must initiate the proceedings within 45 days of being served with an NOA.[61] If a proceeding is not commenced within that time frame, the Minister is not prevented from issuing an NOC.\n\n11.6.2 Application in the Federal Court\n\nIf commenced, the proceeding is an application in the Federal Court, and is considered to be a summary proceeding. The first person files a Notice of Application to commence the proceeding. The first person is accordingly the applicant in the proceeding, and seeks an order prohibiting the Minister from issuing an NOC to the second person until expiry of the patent or patents in issue.[62] The second person and the Minister of Health are respondents in the matter. The patentee, if different from the first person, must be added as a party.[63]\n\nThe parties file affidavit evidence. Cross-examinations take place outside of Court in respect of the affidavits, a written record of this evidence is submitted to the Court, along with written argument including the applicable law, facts, and issues, and oral argument is made to a judge at the hearing on the merits.\n\nOnce the PMNOC proceeding is commenced, a statutory stay is triggered that prevents the Minister from issuing an NOC to the second person for 24 months, or until the proceeding is withdrawn, dismissed, or concluded in favour of the second person, whichever is earlier.[64] In the event that the first person is successful, an order of prohibition is granted, and the Minister is precluded from issuing an NOC to the second person until expiry of the patent.\n\nThe court in the application will make a finding as to whether the allegations in the NOA are justified, and not whether the patent is valid or infringed. Accordingly, a PMNOC proceeding does not preclude a first person from bringing an infringement action or a second person from bringing an impeachment action, seeking a declaration that the patent is invalid and/or not infringed. The findings made by a court in a PMNOC proceeding are not determinative of the issues of validity or infringement.[65]\n\n11.6.3 Burden Is on a Balance of Probabilities\n\nThe applicant in a prohibition proceeding bears the burden of proving, on a balance of probabilities, that the allegations of non-infringement and/or invalidity made by the second person respondent are not justified. As set out above, the proceeding does not result in a finding that the patent is valid or not, infringed or not, only whether the allegations are justified.[66]\n\nWith respect to an allegation of non-infringement or invalidity, a presumption exists that the facts set forth in the NOA are true unless the contrary can be demonstrated by the applicant.[67] With respect to an allegation of invalidity, while the overall burden is on the applicant to prove that the allegation is not justified, an evidentiary burden rests with the second person respondent \"to put its case 'into play' by presenting sufficient evidence to give its allegations of invalidity an air of reality. If it meets that burden, then it has rebutted the presumption of validity.\"[68] If both parties lead evidence, the Court will weigh all the evidence and make a determination based on the balance of probabilities.[69]\n\n11.6.4 Motions Available to First and Second Persons\n\nThe first person may bring a motion seeking disclosure of portions of a second person's submission, provided the document sought to be disclosed is relevant to the disposition of the issues in the proceeding.[70] Documents produced from the submission of the second person shall be treated confidentially.[71]\n\nA second person may bring a motion pursuant to s. 6(5) of the _PMNOC Regulations_ to dismiss an application for a prohibition order, in whole or in part, where it can be shown that:\n\na. one or more patents at issue are not eligible for inclusion on the register; or\n\nb. the application is redundant, scandalous, frivolous, or vexatious, or is otherwise an abuse of process in respect of one or more patents.[72]\n\nIn _Pfizer Canada Inc. v. Canada (Minister of Health)_ , the Court held that a motion pursuant to s. 6(5)(a) of the _PMNOC Regulations_ should be considered on the basis that if a determination can be made based on law and the application of uncontroverted, relevant evidence of admissions or plain and obvious findings on the evidence, the Court should proceed to make a determination. The Court further noted that if the determination must be made on disputed relevant evidence or it is necessary to weigh the merits of competing expert opinion, the matter should be left to the hearing at trial.[73]\n\nIn _Pfizer Canada Inc. et al. v. Genpharm ULC et al._ , the Court found that these statements apply equally to motions brought pursuant to s. 6(5)(b) of the _PMNOC Regulations_.[74] The Court has further stated that granting a motion to dismiss under s. 6(5)(b) is an exception and will be denied in the presence of a debatable issue of fact or law.[75] The burden of proof in a motion brought pursuant to s. 6(5)(b) lies with the moving party, and the threshold is very high.[76]\n\nThe Court has held that it has jurisdiction to consider eligibility for listing issues only in the context of a motion pursuant to s. 6(5) of the _PMNOC Regulations_ , and cannot consider them at the hearing of the case on the merits.[77] Courts have dismissed subsequent applications pursuant to s. 6(5)(b) when a first person has been unsuccessful in a previous proceeding with respect to the same patent.[78]\n\nOnce a proceeding has concluded, there are still further considerations to be made by both first and second persons.\n\n11.7 OTHER CONSIDERATIONS\n\n11.7.1 Costs\n\nJudicial review proceedings are subject to the general rules concerning costs.[79] Indeed, the _PMNOC Regulations_ specifically allow a court to make any order in respect of costs, including on a solicitor-and-client basis, and set out factors that can be considered by the court in the costs award.[80] The successful party will normally be entitled to recover its costs, although representing only a partial indemnity of actual costs incurred, and reasonable disbursements from the unsuccessful party. Costs are awarded based on a tariff. Solicitor-and-client costs more closely approximate the costs associated with the litigation but require that a party has engaged in reprehensible, scandalous, or outrageous conduct in order for the court to make this award.[81]\n\n**11.7.2 Section 8 of the** _PMNOC Regulations_\n\nSection 8 of the _PMNOC Regulations_ states that, if an application is withdrawn or discontinued by the first person or is dismissed by the Court hearing the application or if an order preventing the Minister from issuing an NOC is reversed on appeal, the first person is liable to the second person for any loss suffered during that period beginning on the date on which an NOC would have been issued in the absence of the _PMNOC Regulations_ and ending on the date of the withdrawal, the discontinuance, the dismissal, or the reversal.[82] A second person is permitted to bring an action seeking compensation from the first person for the loss and the Court may make any order for relief by way of damages that the circumstances require.[83] Further, the _PMNOC Regulations_ provide that the Court may make an order under this section without regard to whether the first person has commenced an action for the infringement of a patent that is the subject matter of the application.[84] The Court shall take into account all matters that it considers relevant to the assessment of the amount of compensation to be awarded, including any conduct on the part of the first or second person that contributed to delay the disposition of the application.[85]\n\nGenerally speaking, interlocutory motions seeking to strike claims or portions of claims have been unsuccessful, with the Court indicating that these issues should be determined by the trial judge at the hearing on the merits. Specifically, the Court recently stated that there is strong support in the case law that summary judgment is not appropriate when a question of law is raised relating to the facts.[86] For example, the Court refused to grant a motion seeking to strike a foreign related company as a party on the basis that the question of whether a \"first person\" can include persons other than the person who filed the NDS has not yet been determined at trial.[87] However, in this same case, the Court struck out the claim against the unrelated patentee.[88]\n\nA couple of recent decisions in the Federal Court have granted motions in respect of the types of remedies available. Claims for an accounting of profits as unjust enrichment pursuant to s. 8 of the current _PMNOC Regulations_ are not available in the Federal Court.[89] A second person has brought an action in the Ontario Superior Court of Justice for damages and disgorgement of profits, claiming the first person wrongfully delayed its ability to bring a product to market. The Court dismissed a motion by the first person seeking to strike the claim of unjust enrichment on the basis that s. 8 of the _PMNOC Regulations_ extinguishes all common law causes of action. The Court found that it is not plain and obvious that the _PMNOC Regulations_ are a complete code.[90]\n\nThere have now been a couple of decisions on the merits. The Court has determined that in cases brought pursuant to the _PMNOC Regulations_ that were in force in 1993, damages are available only if the proceeding delayed the issuance of an NOC beyond the expiry of the patent at issue.[91]\n\nThe Court has also determined that the second person must show on a balance of probabilities that it was prevented from entering the market because of the prohibition application. It must be shown on a balance of probabilities that the chance of making a profit was real.[92]\n\nThe version of s. 8 enacted in 1998 allows a second person to claim only damages or its lost profits, but not the profits of the first person.[93] Further, the second person's losses must be shown to have occurred within the period ending on the date of the withdrawal, discontinuance, dismissal or reversal. Claims for continuing loss of market share were not allowed.[94]\n\nIn an earlier decision, the Court of Appeal found that an order of prohibition can be set aside in the event that the patent is later found to be invalid and/or not infringed. The Court refused to dismiss the prohibition application.[95] However, more recently the Court of Appeal considered a motion to set aside an order of the Court of Appeal on the basis of a matter discovered subsequent to the making of the order and because the order was obtained by fraud. The Court of Appeal found that a subsequent order impeaching a patent is not a new matter that justifies setting aside the previous order of prohibition. Further, the Court ruled that there was no evidence that the order of prohibition was obtained by the fraud that was later discovered in the impeachment action to have been made to obtain the patent. The Court of Appeal refused to set aside the order of prohibition.[96]\n\n[1] _Food and Drug Regulations_ , S.O.R./2006-241, C.008.004.1 [ _Food and Drug Regulations_ ]. This amendment was found to be _intra vires_ the federal Parliament in _Canadian Generic Pharmaceutical Association et al. v. Minister of Health et al._ , 2009 FC 725, 77 C.P.R. (4th) 407, aff'd 2010 FCA 334, 90 C.P.R. (4th) 225.\n\n[2] _Food and Drug Regulations_ , _ibid._ , C.08.004.1(1).\n\n[3] _Epicept Corporation v. Minister of Health_ , 2010 FC 956, 377 F.T.R. 29.\n\n[4] _Teva Canada Limited v. Minister of Health et al._ , 2011 FC 507, 2011 CarswellNat 1450.\n\n[5] _Food and Drug Regulations_ , _supra_ note 1, C.08.010, C.08.011.\n\n[6] _Regulatory Impact Analysis Statement_ , _Regulations Amending the Food and Drug Regulations (Data Protection)_ , C. Gaz. 2006.II.1496 (S.O.R./2006-241).\n\n[7] _Food and Drug Regulations_ , _supra_ note 1, C.08.004.1(3).\n\n[8] _Food and Drug Regulations_ , _ibid._ , C.08.004(9), online: Health Canada <<http://www.hc-sc.gc.ca/dhp-mps/prodpharma/applic-demande/regist/reg_innov_dr-eng.php>>.\n\n[9] _Canadian Generic Pharmaceutical Association v. Minister of Health et al._ , 2010 FC 1211, 378 F.T.R. 314 (Proth.), aff'd 2011 FC 465, 93 C.P.R. (4th) 203.\n\n[10] _Food and Drug Regulations_ , _supra_ note 1, C.08.004.1(5).\n\n[11] _Ibid._ , C.08.004.1(6), (8).\n\n[12] _Food and Drugs Act_ , R.S.C. 1985, c. F-27 [ _Food and Drugs Act_ ].\n\n[13] _Patent Act_ , R.S.C. 1985, c. P-4, s. 55.2(1).\n\n[14] _Ibid._ , s. 55.2(4).\n\n[15] _Patented Medicines (Notice of Compliance) Regulations_ , S.O.R./93-133, as am. by S.O.R./98-166, S.O.R./99-379, S.O.R./2006-242, and S.O.R./2008-211 [ _PMNOC Regulations_ ].\n\n[16] _PMNOC Regulations_ , _ibid._\n\n[17] _PMNOC Regulations_ , S.O.R./2006-242.\n\n[18] _Food and Drugs Act_ , _supra_ note 12.\n\n[19] _Food and Drug Regulations_ , _supra_ note 1.\n\n[20] _Ibid._ , C.08.002.\n\n[21] _Ibid._ , C.08.002(2), (3).\n\n[22] _Access to Information Act_ , R.S.C. 1985, c. A-1.\n\n[23] _AstraZeneca Canada Inc. v. Health Canada_ , 2005 FC 1451, 2005 CarswellNat 3468; _AstraZeneca Canada Inc. v. Canada (Minister of Health)_ , 2005 FC 189, 42 C.P.R. (4th) 290; _AstraZeneca Canada Inc. v. Canada (Minister of Health)_ , 2005 FC 646, 2005 CarswellNat 1217; _AstraZeneca Canada Inc. v. Canada (Minister of Health)_ , 2005 FC 645, 40 C.P.R. (4th) 322; _Canada (Minister of Health) v. Merck Frosst Canada Ltd._ , 2009 FCA 166, 400 N.R. 1, leave to appeal to S.C.C. granted, 33290 (January 21, 2010) [heard on November 12, 2011; currently awaiting decision].\n\n[24] _PMNOC Regulations_ , _supra_ note 15, ss. 2, 4(1).\n\n[25] _Ibid._ , ss. 2, 5(1).\n\n[26] _Ibid._ , ss. 4(1), (4).\n\n[27] _Ibid._ , ss. 4(2)-(3).\n\n28] _Patent Register_ , online: Health Canada <[http://www.patentregister.ca>.\n\n[29] _PMNOC Regulations_ , _supra_ note 15, ss. 3(2), (7).\n\n[30] _Ibid._ , s. 3(2).\n\n[31] _Ibid._ , ss. 3(3)-(5).\n\n[32] _Ibid._ , s. 3(5).\n\n[33] _Ibid._ , s. 4.\n\n[34] _Ibid._ , s. 4(5).\n\n[35] _Ibid._ , s. 4(2).\n\n[36] _Ibid._ , s. 2.\n\n[37] _Abbott Laboratories Limited v. Canada (Attorney General)_ , 2008 FC 700, 67 C.P.R. (4th) 51 at 54 (F.C.T.D.), aff'd (2008), 70 C.P.R. (4th) 161 at 170 (F.C.A.).\n\n[38] _GlaxoSmithKline Inc. v. Canada (Minister of Health)_ , 2008 FC 1415, 71 C.P.R. (4th) 69 at para. 17.\n\n[39] _Bayer Inc. v. Minister of Health_ , 2009 FC 1171, 79 C.P.R. (4th) 1, aff'd 2010 FCA 161, 86 C.P.R. (4th) 81.\n\n[40] _Purdue Pharma v. Minister of Health_ , 2010 FC 738, 86 C.P.R. (4th) 83.\n\n[41] _PMNOC Regulations_ , _supra_ note 15, s. 4.1(2).\n\n[42] _Ibid._ , s. 4(3).\n\n[43] _Solvay Pharma Inc. v. Minister of Health_ , 2009 FC 102, [2010] 1 F.C.R. 391.\n\n[44] _PMNOC Regulations_ , _supra_ note 15, s. 4(3).\n\n[45] _Searle & Co. et al. v. Minister of Health_, 2009 FCA 35, 71 C.P.R. (4th) 389 at para. 45.\n\n[46] _PMNOC Regulations_ , _supra_ note 15, s. 4(6).\n\n[47] _Ibid._ , s. 3(7).\n\n[48] _Ratiopharm Inc. v. Wyeth et al._ , 2007 FCA 264, 60 C.P.R. (4th) 375 (F.C.A.).\n\n[49] _PMNOC Regulations_ , S.O.R./2008-211.\n\n[50] _Ibid._ , s. 3.1(1).\n\n[51] _Ibid._ , s. 3.1(2).\n\n[52] The process for approval of SEBs is discussed in Chapter 13, Subsequent Entry Biologics. The _PMNOC Regulations_ apply to both small molecules and SEBs; it is only the approval process that is different.\n\n[53] _Food and Drug Regulations_ , _supra_ note 1, C.08.002.1.\n\n[54] _Merck Frosst Canada Inc. v. Canada (Minister of Health and Welfare)_ (1998), 146 F.T.R. 249, 80 C.P.R. (3d) 550 at paras. 10-11 (F.C.T.D.), aff'd (1999), 169 F.T.R. 320, 3 C.P.R. (4th) 286 (C.A.); _Reddy-Cheminor Inc. v. Minister of Health_ (2001), 212 F.T.R. 129, 15 C.P.R. (4th) 215 at para. 46, aff'd 2002 FCA 179, 225 F.T.R. 160; _Aventis Pharma Inc. v. Minister of Health_ , 2005 FC 1396, 45 C.P.R. (4th) 6.\n\n[55] _PMNOC Regulations_ , _supra_ note 15, s. 5(1).\n\n[56] _Ibid._ , s. 5(4).\n\n[57] _Ibid._ , ss. 5(1)-(2).\n\n[58] _AB Hassle et al. v. Apotex Inc._ , 2002 F.C.T. 931, 21 C.P.R. (4th) 173 at para. 63 (F.C.T.D.).\n\n[59] _AB Hassle v. Canada (Minister of National Health and Welfare)_ (2000), 7 C.P.R. (4th) 272 at paras. 23-24 (F.C.A.).\n\n[60] _PMNOC Regulations_ , _supra_ note 15, s. 5(3).\n\n[61] _Ibid._\n\n[62] _Ibid._ , s. 6(1).\n\n[63] _Ibid._ , s. 9.6(4).\n\n[64] _Ibid._ , s. 7.\n\n[65] _Eli Lilly Canada Inc. v. Novopharm Limited_ , 2007 FCA 359, 62 C.P.R. (4th) 161. See also _Janssen-Ortho Inc. v. Novopharm Limited_ , 2006 FC 1234, 57 C.P.R. (4th) 58 at paras. 74-76, aff'd 2007 FCA 217, 59 C.P.R. (4th) 116; _Ratiopharm Inc. v. Pfizer Limited_ , 2009 FC 711, 76 C.P.R. (4th) 241 at para. 18, aff'd 2010 FCA 204, 87 C.P.R. (4th) 185.\n\n[66] _PMNOC Regulations_ , _supra_ note 15, s. 6(2).\n\n[67] _Merck Frosst Canada Inc. v. Canada_ (1994), 55 C.P.R. (3d) 302 at 319 (F.C.A.); _Eli Lilly Canada Inc. et al. v. Apotex Inc. et al._ , 2009 FC 320, 75 C.P.R. (4th) 165 at para. 41.\n\n[68] _Pfizer Canada Inc. v. Apotex Inc._ , 2007 FC 26, 59 C.P.R. (4th) 183 at paras. 9, 12.\n\n[69] _Pfizer Canada Inc. v. Canada (Minister of Health)_ , 2008 FC 11, 69 C.P.R. (4th) 191 at para. 32.\n\n[70] _PMNOC Regulations_ , _supra_ note 15, s. 6(7).\n\n[71] _Ibid._ , s. 6(8).\n\n[72] _Ibid._ , s. 6(5). See _Hoffmann-La Roche Ltd. v. Canada (Minister of National Health and Welfare)_ (1999), 87 C.P.R. (3d) 251 (F.C.T.D.).\n\n[73] _Pfizer Canada Inc. and Pfizer Inc. v. Canada (Minister of Health) and Cobalt Pharmaceuticals Inc._ , 2007 FC 187, 2007 CarswellNat 428 at para. 16.\n\n[74] _Pfizer Canada Inc. et al. v. Genpharm ULC et al._ , 2010 FC 684, 85 C.P.R. (4th) 461 at paras. 18, 19.\n\n[75] _Sanofi-Aventis Canada Inc. v. Novopharm Ltd._ , 2007 FCA 163, 59 C.P.R. (4th) 416 at paras. 32-34.\n\n[76] _Nycomed GmbH v. Canada (Minister of Health)_ (2008), 64 C.P.R. (4th) 388 at paras. 4, 77.\n\n[77] _Solvay Pharma Inc. v. Apotex Inc._ , 2008 FC 308, 64 C.P.R. (4th) 246 at para. 65.\n\n[78] _Supra_ note 75.\n\n[79] _Federal Courts Rules_ , S.O.R./98-106, r. 400; compare this with former r. 1618, which required a showing of \"special circumstances\" before costs could be awarded. See _Pharmacia Inc. v. Canada_ (1995), 64 C.P.R. (3d) 5 (F.C.T.D.), rev'd in part (1998), 82 C.P.R. (3d) 506 (F.C.A.).\n\n[80] _PMNOC_ Regulations, _supra_ note 15, ss. 6(9)-(10).\n\n[81] _Baker v. Canada (Minister of Citizenship & Immigration)_, [1999] 2 S.C.R. 817, 174 D.L.R. (4th) 193 at 864.\n\n[82] _PMNOC Regulations_ , _supra_ note 15, s. 8.\n\n[83] _Ibid._ , ss. 8(2), (4).\n\n[84] _Ibid._ , s. 8(3).\n\n[85] _Ibid._ , s. 8(5).\n\n[86] _Apotex Inc. v. Pfizer Canada Inc._ , 2009 FC 631, 75 C.P.R. (4th) 329 at para. 43.\n\n[87] _Sanofi-Aventis Canada Inc. et al. v. Novopharm Ltd._ , 2010 FC 150, 81 C.P.R. (4th) 285 at para. 27.\n\n[88] _Ibid._\n\n[89] _Apotex Inc. v. Servier Canada Inc._ , 2009 FC 319, 83 C.P.R. (4th) 268 at paras. 13-14; _Apotex Inc. v. Eli Lilly Canada Inc._ , 2009 FC 693, 76 C.P.R. (4th) 361.\n\n[90] _Apotex Inc. v. Abbott Laboratories, Limited et al._ , 2010 ONSC 6909, 89 C.P.R. (4th) 141 at paras. 52, 54.\n\n[91] _Apotex Inc. v. Syntex Pharmaceuticals International Ltd._ , 2009 FC 494, 76 C.P.R. (4th) 325, aff'd 2010 FCA 155, 84 C.P.R. (4th) 409.\n\n[92] _Eli Lilly & Co. v. Apotex Inc._, 2009 FC 991, 80 C.P.R. (4th) 1 at para. 762; _Apotex Inc. v. Merck & Co. Inc._, 2010 FC 287, 82 C.P.R. (4th) 85 at para. 34.\n\n[93] _Merck Frosst Canada Ltd. et al. v. Apotex Inc._ , 2009 FCA 187, 76 C.P.R. (4th) 1 at para. 91.\n\n[94] _Ibid._ at para. 102.\n\n[95] _Pharmascience Inc. v. Aventis Pharma Inc. et al._ , 2010 FCA 153, 85 C.P.R. (4th) 297 at para. 5.\n\n[96] _Pfizer Canada Inc. et al. v. Canada (Minister of Health)_ , 2011 FCA 215, 2011 CarswellNat 2517.\n\n**CHAPTER 12**\n\nPATENTED MEDICINE PRICES REVIEW BOARD\n\n12.1 OVERVIEW\n\nThe Patented Medicine Prices Review Board (\"the Board\") is an independent quasi-judicial body established under the _Patent Act_. It is responsible for ensuring that patentees are not selling medicines* at excessive prices in any market in Canada.\n\nThe Board has broad powers to compel patentees to disclose pricing and other information. The Board also has broad powers to order patentees to reduce the prices of medicines, and to make payments to Her Majesty in right of Canada. These orders may be made enforceable in the same manner as an order of the Federal Court.\n\nNotably, the Board has no role with respect to the provincial and territorial reimbursement of the costs of patented medicines through public health insurance programs. Though beyond the scope of this chapter, these regimes warrant further investigation because they vary significantly among provinces, and may have an impact on prices charged for patented medicines.\n\n12.2 JURISDICTION OF THE BOARD\n\n12.2.1 General Principles\n\nThe Supreme Court of Canada recently signalled an expansive approach to interpreting the jurisdiction of the Board. In _Celgene Corp. v. Canada (Attorney General)_ , the patentee argued that the Board did not have jurisdiction on the ground that the medicine was not \"sold in any market in Canada.\" It argued that, according to commercial law principles it was \"sold\" in New Jersey. In rejecting this argument, the Supreme Court instead adopted a broad interpretation that was in keeping with the overriding consumer protection goals of the statute. In so doing, it found that the medicine came within the Board's jurisdiction.[1]\n\n12.2.2 Patents Must Pertain to a Medicine\n\nThe _Patent Act_ provides that a patentee of an invention \"pertaining to a medicine\" falls within the jurisdiction of the Board.[2] Although \"medicine\" is not defined in the _Patent Act_ , s. 79(2) states that an invention pertains to a medicine if the invention is \"intended or capable of being used for medicine or for the preparation or production of medicine.\" The Federal Court of Appeal has held that the word \"medicine\" must be interpreted broadly and in its ordinary sense.[3]\n\nThe Board has published a _Compendium of Policies, Guidelines and Procedures_ , which, although non-binding, includes further guidance with respect to the Board's interpretation of its jurisdiction. The Compendium provides that a \"medicine\" is \"any substance or mixture of substances made by any means — whether produced biologically, chemically, or otherwise — that is applied or administered _in vivo_ in humans or in animals to aid in the diagnosis, treatment, mitigation or prevention of disease, symptoms, disorders, abnormal physical states, or in modifying organic functions in humans or animals, however administered.\"[4]\n\nIn _ICN Pharmaceuticals_ , The Federal Court of Appeal set out a three-fold test to determine whether the Board had jurisdiction over patents pertaining to a medicine. This test is as follows:\n\na. the party must be a patentee of an invention;\n\nb. the patentee's invention must pertain to a medicine; and\n\nc. the patentee must be selling the medicine in any market in Canada.\n\nThe Federal Court of Appeal held that \"[t]here need only be a slender thread of a connection between a patented invention and the medicine sold in Canada in order to satisfy the test for a nexus.\"[5]\n\nThe Federal Court of Appeal clarified that (1) there is no requirement that the patent actually be used in the production of the medicine in order for jurisdiction to attach, and (2) the Board's jurisdiction extends not only to patents that contain product claims, but also to patents that contain \"process\" and \"use\" claims.[6]\n\nThe Board may also have jurisdiction over medicines that are not considered \"medicines\" under the _Patented Medicines (Notice of Compliance) Regulations_ ( _PMNOC Regulations_ ).[7] The Federal Court of Appeal has held that the _PMNOC Regulations_ are a different regime, and that an interpretation under the _PMNOC Regulations_ is irrelevant for the purposes of establishing the jurisdiction of the Board.[8]\n\nIn the same case, the Federal Court of Appeal commented on a patentee's failure to reveal to the Board the existence of a patent based on the patentees' unilateral determination that it did not pertain to a medicine. The Court underscored the importance for patentees to meet their reporting obligations by disclosing these patents.[9] A patentee should avoid making unilateral decisions on whether a patent pertains to a medicine. The better practice is to disclose the existence of the patent to the Board on the basis that it does not in fact pertain to a medicine, and thus avoid the possibility of running afoul of the statutory obligations under the _Patent Act_.\n\n12.2.3 Who Is a Patentee?\n\nThe Board has held that the definition of \"patentee\" at s. 79(1) of the _Patent Act_ is broad enough to include a licence holder who has an exclusive licence to promote, market, and sell a medicine in Canada.[10]\n\n12.2.4 Pending Patent Applications\n\nThe Federal Court has held that the Board does not have jurisdiction over pending patent applications. However, once the patent has been granted, the Board has jurisdiction with respect to prices charged from the filing date of the application. Conversely, if the patent application never issues to grant, the Board will not have jurisdiction over prices charged.\n\n12.2.5 The Effect of Dedicating Patents to the Public\n\nIn the past, patentees have attempted to circumvent the jurisdiction of the Board by dedicating their patents to the public.[11] Patentees argued that because they no longer receive exclusivity under a patent, they no longer fall within the jurisdiction of the Board. However, the _Patent Act_ contains no express provisions for dedicating a patent to the public. A patent that is dedicated to the public remains in force until it becomes abandoned or lapses for the statutory reasons set out in the _Patent Act_. The Board has, therefore, held that it has jurisdiction where the patent is in force regardless of whether it has been dedicated to the public.\n\n12.2.6 Jurisdiction Limited to \"Factory Gate\" Sales\n\nThe Board does not have jurisdiction over prices charged by wholesalers or retailers, nor over pharmacists' professional fees. The Board's review is restricted to the \"factory gate\" price — that is, the price at which a manufacturer first sells the product at arm's length (that is, to wholesalers, hospitals, or pharmacies).[12]\n\n12.3 POWERS AND FUNCTIONS OF THE BOARD\n\nThe Board has two major mandates: investigation and reporting.\n\n12.3.1 Investigative Functions and Research and Development\n\nIn determining excessive pricing under the _Patent Act_ , the Board has the power to investigate sales and expense activities in Canada. It can order the patentee or a former patentee to furnish the Board with information and documents respecting the following:\n\na. identity of the medicine;\n\nb. the price at which the medicine is being or has been sold in any market in Canada or elsewhere;\n\nc. the costs of making and marketing the medicine, where that information is available to the patentee or is within the knowledge or control of the patentee;\n\nd. the factors set out in s. 85 of the _Patent Act_ ; and\n\ne. any other related matters.[13]\n\nThe _Patented Medicines Regulations_ provide details about how prices must be calculated and reported.[14] Among other things, the Regulations set out permissible deductions. Most recently, the Board considered the issue of permissible deductions in _ratio-Salbutamol_. It held that the Board must take \"business realities\" into account in order to review the \"true price\" at which patented medicines are being provided to Canadians.[15]\n\nThe factors that may be considered under s. 85 of the _Patent Act_ in determining whether prices are excessive include:\n\na. the prices at which the medicine has been sold in the relevant market;\n\nb. the prices at which other medicines in the same therapeutic class have been sold in the relevant market;\n\nc. the prices at which the medicine and other medicines in the same therapeutic class have been sold in countries other than Canada — namely, Germany, France, Italy, Sweden, Switzerland, the United Kingdom, and the United States;\n\nd. changes to the Consumer Price Index; and\n\ne. any other factors that may be specified in any regulations made for the purposes of s. 85.\n\nIf the Board is unable to determine whether the medicine is being, or has been, sold at an excessive price, it may also consider the cost of making and marketing the medicine and any other factors that it considers relevant. Research costs that may be considered by the Board are the Canadian portions only of the cost related to the research that led to the invention or to the development and commercialization of the invention.[16]\n\nThe patentee or former patentee is required to comply with any order made by the Board. In other words, the Board maintains jurisdiction to institute proceedings for excessive pricing following the expiration (or where the former patentee ceases to be entitled to the benefit) of the patent in order to issue a binding order. However, the Board's order does not apply to a former patentee where the Board instituted proceedings more than three years after the patentee ceased being entitled to the benefit of the patent or ceased being able to exercise any rights in relation to the patent.[17]\n\nWhere the Board finds that a patented medicine is sold in Canada at a price that is excessive, it may order the patentee to sell the medicine at a reduced price. The Board may also order the patentee to do any one or more of the following to offset the amount of excess revenue estimated by the Board to have been derived by the patentee from the excessive price:\n\na. reduce the price at which the patentee sells the medicine in any market in Canada to such an extent and for such a period as set out by the Board;\n\nb. reduce the price at which the patentee sells one other medicine to which a patented invention of the patentee pertains in any market in Canada to such an extent and for such a period as set out by the Board; or\n\nc. pay an amount specified by the Board to the government.[18]\n\nThe Board may also direct the patentee to meet any one or more of the above requirements, which will, in the Board's opinion, offset not more than twice the amount of the excess revenues estimated by it to have been derived by the patentee or former patentee from the sale of the medicine at the excessive price.\n\nBefore the Board makes an order, the patentee or former patentee has a right to a hearing. A panel of the Board acts as the decision maker, and the Board staff assumes the role of prosecutor. The Board may accept voluntary compliance undertakings from any company under investigation, which must be consistent with the Board's statutory mandate, guidelines, and policies, and be in the public interest.[19]\n\n12.3.2 Reporting Functions\n\nIn order to fulfill its mandate, the Board monitors prices of patented medicines in Canada and tracks overall research and development expenditures relative to sales of pharmaceutical companies in Canada. It does this by way of an annual report on activities by patentees in Canada concerning research and development relating to medicines as well as overall revenues from sales of medicines.[20]\n\nThe purpose of the annual report, which is tabled with Parliament, is to disclose relevant information in order to establish new policies reflecting the economic reality of the Canadian drug industry. In order to meet this reporting obligation, the Board can require a patentee to provide it with information and documents that include the following:\n\na. the identity of the licensees in Canada;\n\nb. the revenue of the patentee, and details of the source of the revenue (whether direct or indirect) from sales of medicine in Canada; and\n\nc. the expenditures made by the patentee in Canada on research and development relating to medicine.[21]\n\nThe Board may also order other persons, whom it believes to have relevant information with respect to the sales of medicines in Canada or expenditures made by a patentee in Canada on research and development relating to a medicine, to provide that information. On the basis of the information collected, the Board prepares an estimate of the proportion of the expenditures spent by each patentee in Canada in the preceding year on research and development relating to the medicine to the revenues earned by the patentee from sales of the medicine in the same year in Canada.\n\nThe Board makes these submissions in such a way that it is not possible to identify the people who have submitted the information requested by the Board. The report does, however, identify the patentees in respect of whom the estimates of various percentages are given, and may also identify patentees who have failed to comply with orders requesting submissions to the Board. In addition to a summary of pricing trends in the pharmaceutical industry, the report also contains the name of each patentee in respect of whom an order was made during the year as well as a statement as to the status of the matter in which an order was made.[22]\n\n12.4 JUDICIAL REVIEW\n\nAs discussed above, pursuant to its investigative functions, the Board practises a dual role. To ensure that patented medicine prices are not excessive, it takes on a prosecutor's role: if a manufacturer does not accept a voluntary compliance order, it may hear the case and issue orders. Like every administrative tribunal, the Board's decisions are subject to review by the Federal Court. The Federal Court's decision may be appealed to the Federal Court of Appeal, and leave to appeal to the Supreme Court of Canada may be sought from the Federal Court of Appeal's decision.\n\nIn _Celgene_ , the Supreme Court of Canada recently clarified that the applicable standard of review of a Board decision is \"reasonableness\" (and not correctness). Therefore, only an unreasonable Board decision will be set aside. An unreasonable decision is one that falls outside \"a range of possible, acceptable outcomes which are defensible in respect of the facts and law.\"[23]\n\n* The words \"medicines\" and \"drugs\" are used interchangeably in this chapter.\n\n[1] _Celgene Corp. v. Canada (Attorney General)_ , 2011 SCC 1, 89 C.P.R. (4th) 1 [ _Celgene_ ].\n\n[2] _Patent Act_ , R.S.C. 1985, c. P-4, s. 80 [ _Patent Act_ ].\n\n[3] _ICN Pharmaceuticals Inc. v. Canada (Patented Medicine Prices Review Board)_ (1996), 119 F.T.R. 70, 68 C.P.R. (3d) 417 at para. 51 (F.C.A.) [ _ICN Pharmaceuticals_ ].\n\n[4] _Compendium of Policies, Guidelines and Procedures_ , online: Patented Medicine Prices Review Board <<http://www.pmprb-cepmb.gc.ca/english/view.asp?x=1206>>, s. B.3 (updated June 2011).\n\n[5] _ICN Pharmaceuticals_ , _supra_ note 3 at 60.\n\n[6] _Ibid._ at 57.\n\n[7] _Patented Medicines (Notice of Compliance) Regulations_ , S.O.R./93-133, as am. [ _PMNOC Regulations_ ].\n\n[8] _ICN Pharmaceuticals_ , _supra_ note 3 at 53.\n\n[9] _Ibid._ at 78.\n\n10] _Patented Medicine Prices Review Board v. Ratiopharm Inc. (Re: ratio-Salbutamol HFA)_ (27 May 2011), PMPRB-08-D3-ratio-Salbutamol HFA — Merits, online: <[http://www.pmprb-cepmb.gc.ca/english/View.asp?x=1500&mp=254> [ _ratio-Salbutamol_ ]. See also _Hoechst Marion Roussel Canada Inc. v. Canada (Attorney General)_ , 2005 FC 1552, 48 C.P.R. (4th) 1.\n\n[11] _Genentech Canada, Re_ (1992), 44 C.P.R. (3d) 316 (P.M.P.R.B); see also _ICN Pharmaceuticals_ , _supra_ note 3 at 446.\n\n[12] _Pfizer Canada Inc. v. Canada (Attorney General)_ , 2009 FC 719, 76 C.P.R. (4th) 135 at para. 84.\n\n[13] _Patent Act_ , _supra_ note 2, s. 80.\n\n[14] _Patented Medicines Regulations_ , S.O.R./94-688, s. 4.\n\n[15] _Ratio-Salbutamol_ , _supra_ note 10; see also _Leo Pharma Inc. v. Canada (Attorney General)_ , 2007 FC 306, 57 C.P.R. (4th) 174.\n\n[16] _Patent Act_ , _supra_ note 2, s. 85.\n\n[17] _Ibid._ , s. 83(7).\n\n[18] _Ibid._ , s. 83.\n\n[19] _Ciba-Geigy Canada Ltd., Re_ (1994), 58 C.P.R. (3d) 542 at 547, 549-552 (P.M.P.R.B.).\n\n[20] _Patent Act_ , _supra_ note 2, s. 89.\n\n[21] _Ibid._ , s. 88.\n\n[22] _Ibid._ , s. 100.\n\n[23] _Celgene_ , _supra_ note 1 at para. 34.\n\n**CHAPTER 13**\n\nSUBSEQUENT ENTRY BIOLOGICS\n\n13.1 OVERVIEW\n\nCanada does not have legislation or regulations that specifically address the filing of drug submissions for subsequent entry biologics (SEBs).[1] Health Canada has indicated that it will address SEBs within the context of the _Food and Drugs Act_ and the _Food and Drug Regulations_ as they currently exist. Similarly, the _Patented Medicines (Notice of Compliance) Regulations_ [2] and the _Data Protection Regulations_ [3] will apply to SEBs in the same manner as these Regulations apply to small molecule products.\n\nHealth Canada published a guidance document that addresses the information and submission requirements for SEBs. The guidance documents that summarize the implementation of the _PMNOC Regulations_ and the _Data Protection Regulations_ were amended to address SEBs where necessary. These guidance documents are described below.\n\n13.2 THE SEB GUIDANCE DOCUMENT\n\nThe _Guidance for Sponsors: Information and Submission Requirements for SEBs_ ( _SEB Guidance_ ) provides a number of definitions, including for a biologic drug and an SEB. A \"biologic drug\" is defined as:\n\nA drug listed in Schedule D to the _Food and Drugs Act_. Schedule D lists individual products (such as \"insulin\"), product classes (such as \"immunizing agents\"), references to particular sources (such as \"drugs, other than antibiotics, prepared from microorganisms\"), and methodology (such as \"drugs obtained by recombinant DNA procedures\"). Biologic drugs are derived through the metabolic activity of living organisms and tend to be significantly more variable and structurally complex than chemically synthesized drugs.[4]\n\nA \"Subsequent Entry Biologic (SEB)\" is defined as:\n\nA biologic drug that enters the market subsequent to a version previously authorized in Canada, and with demonstrated similarity to a reference biologic drug. An SEB relies in part on prior information regarding safety and efficacy that is deemed relevant due to the demonstration of similarity to the reference biologic drug and which influences the amount and type of original data required. Note: a product of this type is referred to as similar biologic medicinal product (biosimilar) in the European Union and follow-on protein product in the United States of America.[5]\n\nThe _SEB Guidance_ sets out a number of policy statements said to outline the fundamental concepts and regulatory framework that will apply to SEBs. However, as these statements are made through a guidance document, they do not have the force of law.\n\nThe _SEB Guidance_ provides that the basis for accepting a reduced data package for an SEB hinges on a demonstrated similarity between the SEB and the suitable reference biologic drug. Furthermore, SEBs will not be \"generic biologics.\" This means that an SEB will not have a declaration of pharmaceutical or therapeutic equivalence with the reference biologic drug.[6]\n\n13.2.1 The Reference Biologic Drug\n\nThe sponsor of the SEB submission must name the reference biologic drug to which the SEB will be subsequent. Health Canada has stated that the onus is on the sponsor to demonstrate that the chosen reference biologic drug is suitable.\n\nThe _SEB Guidance_ indicates that the reference biologic drug should be authorized for sale and should be marketed in Canada. However, the drug authorized in Canada does not necessarily have to be the drug used in the comparative studies. If certain conditions are met, and there is enough information showing that the non-Canadian reference biologic drug is a suitable proxy for the version approved in Canada, this non-Canadian reference product can be used as the comparative product in the studies that form the basis of the submission.[7]\n\nSEB submissions are required to include a full chemistry and manufacturing data package as would be expected for a standard new biologic drug. Furthermore, the SEB package needs to give extensive data demonstrating the similarity of the SEB to the reference biologic drug. The _SEB Guidance_ provides significant detail about the types of non-clinical and clinical information that should be considered as part of this package.[8] The _SEB Guidance_ specifically states that comparative clinical trials are of critical importance to demonstrate similarity in the safety and efficacy profiles of most SEBs and reference biologic drugs. The SEB sponsor also needs to compare the nature, severity and frequency of adverse events with those of the reference biologic drug, as well as evaluating the immunogenicity of the SEB.[9]\n\nFor an SEB, a risk management plan must be presented prior to issuance of marketing authorization. The risk management plan needs to be designed to monitor and detect both known and potentially unknown safety issues.[10]\n\nThe SEB manufacturer must also meet a number of post-market requirements.[11]\n\nFinally, the sponsor of an SEB will not be able to use the product monograph of the reference biologic drug in its entirety for its own product. The product monograph for the SEB needs to be developed in accordance with the Health Canada _Guidance for Industry: Product Monograph_ ( _Product Monograph Guidance_ ).[12] The product monograph must specifically state that the product is an SEB. A number of other necessary criteria are listed in the _Product Monograph Guidance_.[13]\n\n13.3 AMENDMENTS TO THE GUIDANCE DOCUMENTS RELATING TO THE PMNOC REGULATIONS AND THE DATA PROTECTION REGULATIONS\n\n**13.3.1 Amendments to the** _PMNOC Guidance_\n\nThe _PMNOC Guidance_ outlines the roles and responsibilities of drug companies and the Office of Patented Medicines and Liaison (OPML) in respect of the _PMNOC Regulations_.[14] A more comprehensive discussion of the regime described by the _PMNOC Regulations_ is found in Chapter 11, Patented Medicines (Notice of Compliance) Regulations. However, a brief description follows to explain how the system will apply to SEBs.\n\nA definition for SEB was added to the _PMNOC Guidance_ confirming that SEB will have the same meaning as in the _SEB Guidance_.[15]\n\nThe _PMNOC Guidance_ was also amended to confirm that s. 5 of the _PMNOC Regulations_ is intended to capture submissions approved on the basis of a direct or indirect comparison with a reference to another drug. Thus, since approval of an SEB is sought by demonstrating similarity to a previously approved reference biologic drug, companies who make SEB submissions will be required to fulfill the requirements of the _PMNOC Regulations_.\n\nSecond persons will be required to address all the patents on the Patent Register for the innovative biologic product. To determine whether there has been a direct or indirect comparison to or a reference to a drug within the meaning of the _PMNOC Regulations_ , the OPML will look for a demonstration of similarity to the reference biologic drug. If there are patents on the Patent Register for that reference biologic drug, then the sponsor of the SEB will be considered to be a second person who has to comply with section 5 of the _PMNOC Regulations_. However, if the similarity cannot be established, and a reduced data package cannot be justified, the product will not be considered to be an SEB. The _PMNOC Guidance_ further confirms that if a non-Canadian reference product is used as a proxy for the Canadian drug in the comparative studies, this will still be considered a comparison with or reference to the Canadian drug as contemplated by the _PMNOC Regulations_.\n\n**13.3.2 Amendments to the** _Data Protection Guidance_\n\nThe _Data Protection Guidance_ was amended to specifically provide that an SEB will not be considered to be an innovative drug under the _Data Protection Regulations_.[16] The _Data Protection Guidance_ confirms that SEB submissions will not be accepted for filing within the six-year period from the date of issuance of a Notice of Compliance for the reference biologic drug. The same is true for SEB submissions that make a comparison to a non-Canadian reference product.[17] A more comprehensive discussion of the regime described by the _Data Protection Regulations_ is found in Chapter 11, Patented Medicines (Notice of Compliance) Regulations.\n\n[1] SEBs are referred to as follow-on biologics or biosimilars in Europe and the United States.\n\n[2] _Patented Medicines (Notice of Compliance) Regulations_ , S.O.R./93-133, as am. [ _PMNOC Regulations_ ].\n\n[3] _Food and Drug Regulations_ , C.R.C., c. 870, s. C.08.004.1 [ _Data Protection Regulations_ ].\n\n[4] _Guidance for Sponsors: Information and Submission Requirements for Subsequent Entry Biologics (SEBs)_ , online: Health Canada <<http://www.hc-sc.gc.ca/dhp-mps/brgtherap/applic-demande/guides/seb-pbu/seb-pbu_2010-eng.php>>, s. 1.4 [ _SEB Guidance_ ].\n\n[5] _Ibid._ , s. 1.4.\n\n[6] _Ibid._ , s. 1.3.\n\n[7] _Ibid._ , s. 2.1.3.\n\n[8] _Ibid._ , ss. 2.3.1, 2.3.2.\n\n[9] _Ibid._ , s. 2.3.2.\n\n[10] _Ibid._ , s. 2.3.3.\n\n[11] _Ibid._ , s. 2.4.\n\n[12] _Guidance for Industry: Product Monograph_ (2004), online: Health Canada <<http://www.hc-sc.gc.ca/dhp-mps/prodpharma/applic-demande/guide-ld/monograph/pm_mp-eng.php>>.\n\n[13] _SEB Guidance_ , _supra_ note 4, s. 2.5.\n\n[14] _Guidance Document: Patented Medicines (Notice of Compliance) Regulations_ , online: Health Canada <<http://www.hc-sc.gc.ca/dhp-mps/prodpharma/applic-demande/guide-ld/patmedbrev/pmreg3_mbreg3-eng.php>>, s. 2 [ _PMNOC Guidance_ ].\n\n[15] _Ibid._ , ss. 3.5.1, 3.4.1.\n\n[16] _Guidance Document: Data Protection Under C.08.004.01 of the Food and Drug Regulations_ , online: Health Canada <<http://www.hc-sc.gc.ca/dhp-mps/prodpharma/applic-demande/guide-ld/data_donnees_protection-eng.php>>, s. 2.1 [ _Data Protection Guidance_ ].\n\n[17] _Ibid._ , s. 3.1.\n\n**PART IV**\n\nPATENT CHALLENGES\n\n**CHAPTER 14**\n\nINFRINGEMENT, VALIDITY, AND POST-GRANT MODIFICATIONS\n\n14.1 OVERVIEW\n\nOnce a patent issues, the owner has a right to exclude all others from making, using, and selling what is claimed by the patent. The rest of the public can also challenge the patent, through the Patent Office or the federal or provincial court systems.\n\nThe _Patent Act_ provides a statutory basis for various proceedings for:\n\n• making changes and corrections with respect to patents and pending applications, including, for example, correcting inventorship, changes in ownership, and recording of security interests;\n\n• abuse of rights actions and criminal prosecution; and\n\n• challenging a patent or patent application including, for example, the filing of prior art.\n\nThere are also a number of common law and quasi-statutory actions, such as judicial review of decisions of the Patent Office.\n\nThird parties may challenge both issued patents and pending patent applications in the Patent Office. To challenge a pending application, the third party may file prior art that the third party believes affects the patentability of the claims in the patent application. In order to challenge an issued patent, the third party may request a re-examination.\n\nIn Canada, there are no proceedings available where a third party has the opportunity to \"oppose\" the grant of an allowed patent application. Currently, opposition proceedings are available in Europe,[1] and a post-grant review process will be available in the United States shortly.[2]\n\nIn Canada, third parties may also challenge issued patents in the provincial or federal courts. Only the Federal Court, however, has the authority to strike a patent from the Register. Thus, most patent litigation is conducted in the Federal Court system. The validity of a patent is often challenged as a defence to an infringement action or through impeachment proceedings.\n\n14.2 POST-GRANT MODIFICATIONS\n\nFollowing the grant and issuance of a patent, there may be instances where minor changes need to be made to correct clerical errors or disclaim subject matter that was included in error. Accordingly, patent owners should systematically review their patents immediately after issuance for errors that require correction.\n\n14.2.1 Section 8 Changes\n\nSection 8 of the _Patent Act_ states that clerical errors in any instrument of record in the Patent Office do not invalidate the instrument, and may be corrected with the permission of the Commissioner of Patents.\n\nClerical errors are errors that arise in the mechanical process of writing or transcribing. The _Manual of Patent Office Practice_ ( _MOPOP_ ) outlines three broad categories of errors that the courts have held are not clerical errors:\n\n1. Errors in documents that are not instruments of record at the Patent Office. For example, requests to correct errors in international patent applications for which Canada is not designated or elected.\n\n2. Mistakes that are not clerical errors by nature. For example, requests relating to correction of a claim or claims due to lack of antecedence or correction of translation mistakes.\n\n3. Errors for which the correction would have the effect of negatively affecting the rights of others. For example, requests for backdating the priority date, broadening the claims of a patent, or relating to revocation of dedication or disclaimer rights.[3]\n\nWhere a request to correct a clerical error is approved and the request affects documents registered at the Patent Office, the party requesting the correction is notified that the correction has been made.\n\nWhile _MOPOP_ suggests that no instrument of record at the Patent Office is exempt from correction, it appears that the Patent Office has narrowed its view on what falls under the purview of a \"clerical error\":\n\n[I]t is well settled that s. 8 of the _Patent Act_ contemplates errors that occur in the course of \"mechanical\" writing out or reproduction of a text, irrespective of the technology used for this purpose.[4]\n\nThe Court in _Scannex_ refused to overturn the Commissioner's decision refusing to replace incorrect figures mistakenly filed with the correct figures.[5] In _Dow Chemical_ , the Court upheld the Commissioner's decision refusing to insert several pages that were omitted from the PCT application text.[6]\n\nIn the case of _Repligen_ , the patent owner made the payment of the prescribed maintenance fees but, when doing so, cited the correct patent owner and the incorrect patent number.[7] Accordingly, the patent lapsed for failure to pay the maintenance fee. In an attempt to revive the patent, the patent agent of record, in a letter to the Commissioner, argued that the maintenance fees were timely paid but that, as a result of a clerical error, two numbers in the patent serial number were transposed. The Commissioner acknowledged that the transposed numbers in the patent serial number constituted a clerical error but ruled that\n\nthe delay in addressing the errors has resulted in an extensive period of time where third parties may have relied upon publicly available documents and the information contained therein. The Office record reflected that as of July 21, 2008, the exclusive right to make, use, or sell the invention ceased in reference to Canadian patent no. 1,341,486. Therefore, effecting said correction has the potential to negatively affect the rights of others.[8]\n\nUpon review, the Court found that there were additional factors that needed to be considered and held that the Commissioner had failed to properly exercise her discretion. The Court discussed a number of factors that should have been considered by the Commissioner before exercising her discretion whether to correct the clerical error:\n\n• The impact on Repligen — namely, the loss of its patent.\n\n• The purpose and object of the maintenance fee provision in the _Patent Act_. Repligen paid on time and the Patent Office accepted the payment; thus, Repligen contributed to defraying the costs of the Patent Office. The Commissioner recognized that paying it to the wrong account was an indicator that Repligen did not consider its patent as deadwood.\n\n• The fact that Repligen's payment was received by the Commissioner and appropriated to another patent in circumstances that were unknown to Repligen and that were not considered by the Commissioner, including whether there was a slip at the Patent Office.\n\n• Whether it was proper for the Commissioner to have considered the possibility that third-party rights could be affected by the requested correction where this possibility was based only on speculation with no evidence on the record to suggest such harm.\n\nUltimately, the Court concluded that the request for correction was to be returned to the Patent Office for reconsideration.\n\n14.2.2 Disclaimers\n\nA disclaimer under s. 48 of the _Patent Act_ allows a patent holder to renounce one or more claims or portions thereof where, by accident, inadvertence, or mistake, the patentee claimed more than it was entitled to. New matter may not be added to a claim to limit it in the context of a disclaimer. Further, a disclaimer may not be used to broaden the claim(s).\n\nThe patent holder is entitled to disclaim anything included by accident, inadvertence, or mistake at any time during the term of the patent.\n\nIn the case of _Hershkovitz_ , Paradox Patent No. 2,169,670 (issued October 5, 1999) was related to telephone line couplers used to connect electronic equipment to phone lines while providing electrical isolation.[9] Shortly after issuance of the patent, Paradox sent a demand letter to Tyco alleging patent infringement; in turn, Tyco asserted that the patent claims were invalid.\n\nOn October 6, 2003, Paradox filed a disclaimer to certain claims. The Court found that the patent holder had failed to clearly state that the disclaimer was sought as a result of a \"mistake, accident or inadvertence\" and that the disclaimer added new inventive elements. The disclaimer was found to be invalid. In filing the disclaimer, the patent holder conceded that the patent was too broad in scope, and thus the patent was also held to be invalid. The patent holder appealed the decision.\n\nOn appeal, The Federal Court of Appeal (FCA) upheld the original ruling and stated:\n\n[T]he Federal Court has found that the disclaimer, by broadening the original claims in the patent, is invalid. Were it otherwise, parties could use disclaimers to broaden their patents and obtain increased rights of exclusivity over those elements, thereby changing the overall bargain and circumventing the oversight of the Patent Office....\n\nThere is a distinction between inventive elements and essential elements. In a disclaimer, one cannot add inventive elements, as that will broaden the scope of the patent. But adding essential elements can narrow the scope of the patent;... the more essential elements there are in the patent's claims, the narrower they get.[10]\n\nCaution should therefore be taken to ensure that disclaimers filed meet all the statutory requirements to avoid irreparable damage to the patent holder.\n\n14.2.3 Reissue\n\nA patentee may apply for reissue of a patent within four years of the issue date. The legislative basis for reissue of a patent is found in s. 47 of the _Patent Act_ , which sets out the conditions necessary for reissue, and the procedure for reissue itself,[11] and provides for the possibility that reissue may occur where the patent is the subject of an ongoing lawsuit.[12]\n\nThe prerequisites for reissue of a patent were considered in _Northern Electric_ ,[13] and required that the application for reissue be for the _same invention_ as that of the original patent; that the reason for reissue must have arisen due to _insufficient description or insufficient specification_ of the invention to which the original patent related, thus deeming the patent _defective or inoperative_ ; and that the insufficiency of description or specification must have arisen from _inadvertence, accident, or mistake_. The case further held that the scope of the phrase \"deemed defective or inoperative\" is to be determined with respect to the intention of the inventor. The decision also made clear that cases where an inventor failed to claim protection due to a lack of recognition of an invention did not qualify for reissue.[14] Under the _Patent Act_ at that time, the claims-based ground for reissue applied only where the patentee claimed more than it was entitled to[15] and forms a point of distinction with the current _Patent Act_.[16]\n\nThe prerequisites for reissue described in _Northern Electric_ were more recently addressed in _Mobil Oil_ ,[17] which clarified that the purpose of s. 47 is to \"allow a patentee an opportunity to correct any deficiencies in the patent in order to properly disclose the invention, as was intended at the time of the invention... [and] not to allow the patentee an opportunity to alter the subject-matter of the patent, so that it is outside the limits of the intended invention.\"[18] The Court also held that if the patent to be reissued addresses the same problem as that of the original patent, a finding that they relate to the same invention is supported.\n\nA series of cases subsequent to _Northern Electric_ further considered the scope of the phrase \"deemed defective or inoperative\" and concluded that a patent must be valid, even if deficient, to be corrected by reissue.[19] Reissue therefore cannot correct an invalid patent. It is to be noted that the case law uses the language of \"patent\" rather than \"claims,\" leaving open the question of whether invalidated claims may be corrected by reissue.\n\nWith respect to \"inadvertence, accident, or mistake,\" whether or not a \"mistake\" has occurred is determined with reference to the intention of the inventor[20] and may have been made either by the inventors themselves or by patent counsel.[21] These cases provide no indication of whether other errors — that is, inadvertence or accident — are also defined with respect to the intention of the inventor, but it is reasonable that inadvertence or accident may also result in an error correctable by reissue. The intention of the inventors has been determined with respect to their experience in the patent process,[22] by objective evidence such as the text of the patents and not by the subjective evidence of the inventors themselves,\"[23] from action taken in an equivalent U.S. patent,[24] and from examination of non-party patent agents,[25] notwithstanding potential difficulties arising from solicitor-client privilege.[26]\n\nThe reissue of a patent must be done with consideration of possible prejudice to the public, who may have relied on the original patent.[27]\n\nReissue may be appropriate where the patentee failed to address relevant prior art in the original patent,[28] even in the case of subsequently discovered prior art.[29]\n\nAn application for reissue may occur where the original patent is the subject of an ongoing law suit. Such a situation was considered by the Exchequer Court of Canada in _Continental Can_ ,[30] where a motion for summary dismissal of an impeachment proceeding was brought by the defendant on the grounds that the reissued patent had distinct claims from the original patent.[31] This argument was rejected on the basis that, because reissue requires that both original and reissued patents protect the same invention, a claim against the original patent must remain valid against the reissued patent, presuming that the reissue was appropriate.[32]\n\n14.3 INFRINGEMENT AND VALIDITY PROCEEDINGS IN COURT\n\nChallenges in the courts can begin with either the patentee or the party wishing to bring another product to market. Regardless of who starts the proceeding, the issues are generally the same. The patentee will likely allege infringement of the patent and the second party will likely allege invalidity and/or non-infringement.\n\nThe _Federal Courts Act_ gives the Federal Court concurrent jurisdiction with provincial courts over patent disputes, and exclusive jurisdiction where a party seeks to impeach or annul a patent.[33] The majority of patent cases are thus brought before the Federal Court.\n\n14.4 CLAIMS CONSTRUCTION\n\nWhether the matter in issue is one of infringement or validity, the first step in any patent suit is to construe the claims.\n\nCanadian law with respect to claims construction and infringement was reviewed and restated by the Supreme Court of Canada (SCC) in two cases: _Free World_ [34] and _Whirlpool_.[35] Each case emphasizes that the language of the claims, purposively construed, defines the legal boundary of the claims. Once the Court has determined the purposive construction of the claims, it then proceeds to consider the issues of infringement and validity.\n\nThe Court must construe the claims in the fashion that a person skilled in the art (PSIA) (also referred to as a person of skill in the art, or POSITA) would understand them on the date of publication. The notion of the PSIA is one that is essential to construction, infringement, and validity. It follows that defining the PSIA is a critical element in every case.\n\nThe rules of claim construction are not defined in the _Patent Act_ but have been established in Canadian jurisprudence. The SCC has held that\n\nit has always been a fundamental rule of claims construction that the claims receive one and the same interpretation for all purposes.[36]\n\nIn construing a patent, and to give effect to the true invention, the \"patent specification should be given a purposive construction rather than a purely literal one derived from applying to it the kind of meticulous verbal analysis in which lawyers are too often tempted by their training to indulge.\"[37] The language of the claims, purposively construed, defines the legal boundary of the claims. A patent is also an enactment within the definition of \"regulation\" under the _Interpretation Act_ , and must accordingly be given an interpretation as best ensures the attainment of its objects.[38]\n\nThe key to purposive construction is the identification of the essential elements of the invention. Construction of a patent is a question of law for the Court. However, it should be undertaken with the knowledge of a PSIA to the extent that such knowledge is revealed by expert evidence at trial.[39]\n\nIn adopting a purposive method of construction, the Court has eschewed a two-step process of determining literal and then substantial infringement in favour of a single test that distinguishes between essential elements, non-essential elements, and permissible variants. Non-essential elements may be substituted or omitted without having a material effect on the structure or operation of the invention as described in the claim, while essential elements must be present in order for the device to work as contemplated and claimed by the inventor.[40]\n\nIn construing the claims, reference to the rest of the specification is (1) permissible to assist in understanding the terms used in the claims; (2) unnecessary where the words are plain and unambiguous; and (3) improper to vary the scope or ambit of the claims.[41] Furthermore, the Court has held that a limitation cannot be read into a claim to avoid infringement.[42] However, the wording of the claims must be read in context, and it is unsafe in many instances to conclude that a term is plain and unambiguous without a careful review of the specification. One must be careful not to interpret the claims in a way that does not accord with the specification as a whole.[43]\n\nWhere possible, different claims are to be given distinct meanings. This is referred to as \"claim differentiation.\" \"Claim differentiation simply requires that limitations of one claim not be read into a general claim.... Where some claims are broad and others narrow, the narrow claim limitations cannot be read into the broad.\"[44] It follows that \"independent claims must be construed in a manner consistent with their dependent claims.\"[45] In _Eli Lilly & Co. v. Apotex Inc._,[46] Justice Gauthier adopted the following commentary with respect to claim differentiation:\n\nEach part of the specification must be effectively construed and, _if it is at all possible, each claim must be construed independently of the others and be given an effective and distinct meaning_. The court will not be inclined to construe two claims in a specification as identical, for if one claim bears the same meaning as another it does not bear an effective meaning.[47]\n\nClaim differentiation is a rebuttable presumption.[48] \"However, the starting assumption must be that claims are not redundant, and only if a purposive analysis shows that claims are in effect duplicated can this construction be adopted.\"[49]\n\nTo reject purposive construction would imply embracing a purposeless approach that ignores the context and use to which the words are being put.[50] Purposive construction does not go outside the four corners of the specification:\n\nit [is] perfectly permissible for the trial judge to look at the rest of the specification, including the drawing, to understand what was meant by [a particular word] in the claims, but not to enlarge or contract the scope of the claim as written and thus understood.[51]\n\nThe construction of a patent must be neither benevolent nor harsh, but rather should be reasonable and fair to both the public and the patentee. A patent must be read by a mind willing to understand, not a mind desirous of misunderstanding. This necessarily means that close attention must be paid to the purpose and intent of the author. The Court should not apply an overly technical or astute approach, and should endeavour to give effect to the construction that will give the inventor protection for that which he has in good faith invented.[52]\n\nHistorically, it had been held that claims construction should not be allowed to become a result-oriented interpretation. One should not have an eye on the allegedly infringing device, nor should one be looking at the prior art with respect to validity. However, the Court recently seems to be moving toward requiring claims construction to be performed with an eye to where the dispute lies between the parties.[53]\n\nA dictionary approach is not to be used in construing claims. This would be using evidence from outside the four corners of the specification. Furthermore, looking at the claims of the patent using a dictionary approach is equivalent to looking at the words through the eyes of a grammarian or etymologist rather than through the eyes of and with the knowledge of a PSIA.[54]\n\nIn addition, the Court has also commented on claim differentiation, holding:\n\nEach part of the specification must be effectively construed and, _if it is at all possible, each claim must be construed independently of the others and be given an effective and distinct meaning_. The court will not be inclined to construe two claims in a specification as identical, for if one claim bears the same meaning as another it does not bear an effective meaning.[55]\n\nPurposive construction is not to be confused with the \"spirit of the invention\" school of construction.[56] A purposive construction is not necessarily a substantive one, nor is it intended to divine some monopoly not described by the language of the claims themselves. The language of the claims remains paramount. The task of the Court is simply to determine what that language means in the context of a patent as a whole and, having done so, to determine which elements of the claim so described are essential and which are non-essential.\n\n14.4.1 Essential Versus Non-Essential Elements\n\nThe distinction between essential and non-essential elements of the claim is made having regard to five factors:\n\na. What is essential or non-essential is determined having regard to the words chosen by the inventor, in light of the patent specification as a whole, in a way that is sympathetic to accomplishing the inventor's purpose as expressed in the claims, and through the eyes of a worker skilled in the art to which the patent relates.[57]\n\nb. Whether an element is essential or not is determined in light of the knowledge of the art as of the date of publication of the patent specification. The issue here is whether persons with practical knowledge and experience in the art would understand that strict compliance with a particular descriptive word or phrase appearing in a claim was intended by the patentee to be an essential requirement of the invention, so that any variant would fall outside the monopoly claimed, even though it would have no material effect on the way in which the invention worked. If so, the element is essential.[58]\n\nc. For an element to be classified as non-essential, either of two conditions must be satisfied. First, it must be shown that, on a purposive construction of the words of the claim, the inventor clearly did not intend the element to be essential. Alternatively, it must be shown that as of the date of publication of the patent a skilled addressee would have appreciated that the element in question could be substituted without affecting the working of the invention — that is, that the variant would have performed substantially the same function in substantially the same way in order to obtain substantially the same result.[59]\n\nd. The construction of the patent is based on the specification itself, without resort to extrinsic evidence. The doctrine of file wrapper estoppel, so central to claim construction in the United States, has less application in Canada. The use of the file wrapper to define the scope of the grant of the monopoly was rejected as inconsistent with the doctrine of purposive construction.[60]\n\ne. The onus is on the patentee to establish known and obvious substitutability as of the date of publication of the patent. If the patentee fails to discharge that onus, the descriptive word or expression in the claim is to be considered essential unless the context of the claim's language otherwise dictates.[61]\n\nPurposive construction has a direct and significant effect on the infringement test that can be employed. Where a purposive construction is adopted, then by definition one cannot apply an infringement test that seeks to determine whether there is literal infringement and, if not, whether there is substantive infringement. The purposive construction does away with all of that. It asks, simply, what is essential and what is non-essential?\n\n14.4.2 The Person of Ordinary Skill in the Art\n\nA PSIA is one who possesses ordinary skill and knowledge of the particular art to which the invention relates and a mind willing to understand the patent specification. The PSIA is sufficiently versed in the art to which the patent relates to enable him or her to appreciate, on a technical level, the nature and description of the invention.[62] His or her knowledge is the knowledge of a competent, ordinary worker,[63] though \"ordinariness\" varies according to the subject matter of the patent — rocket science patents may, in fact, be comprehensible only to rocket scientists.[64] Knowledge of purpose is one of the important attributes a PSIA brings to the exercise of claims construction. He or she looks for success, rather than difficulty or failure.[65] For example, PSIAs would not read a claim to a family of chemical compounds to be used on a person's skin as including a chemical that they know to be toxic to humans, irritating to skin, or likely to discolour the skin, even if the claims language clearly encompasses such chemicals.[66]\n\nA PSIA is understood to be acquainted with the surrounding circumstances concerning the state of the art and the manufacture at the time of the publication of the invention, and understands any particular word or words used in a patent to have the same technical meaning as the words have within the art or manufacture, unless the specification says otherwise.[67]\n\nA PSIA has been defined as\n\na hypothetical person possessing the ordinary skill and knowledge of the particular art to which the invention relates, and a mind willing to understand a specification that is addressed to him. This hypothetical person has sometimes been equated with the \"reasonable man\" used as a standard in negligence cases. He is assumed to be a man who is going to try to achieve success and not one who is looking for difficulties or seeking failure.[68]\n\nThus, the PSIA must be able to work the patent addressed to him without inventive skill.\n\n14.5 INFRINGEMENT/NON-INFRINGEMENT OVERVIEW\n\nThe _Patent Act_ does not provide a definition of what constitutes infringement. Section 42 states that the grant of a patent affords the patentee the exclusive right of \"making, constructing and using the invention and selling it to others to be used.\" The principles as developed in the case law generally provide that any act that interferes with the exercise of the patentee's monopoly constitutes infringement. Infringement proceedings are governed by ss. 54 to 57 of the _Patent Act_.\n\nThe limitation period for infringement is six years.[69] The burden to prove the infringement is on the plaintiff, except in an action for infringement of a patent granted for a process for obtaining a new product.[70] In that case, any product that is the same as the new product is, in the absence of proof to the contrary, considered to have been produced by the patented process.\n\nUnder s. 60(2) of the _Patent Act_ , a person who has reasonable cause to believe that any process or article might be alleged by a patentee to constitute an infringement may bring an action in the Federal Court for a declaration that the process or article is not infringing.[71] The Court requires that such a declaration be very specific as to the nature and extent of the declaration sought.[72] The plaintiff who commences such an action is obliged to deposit security for costs with the Court in such sum as the Federal Court may direct unless the plaintiff is a plaintiff by counterclaim in an action for infringement.[73]\n\n14.5.1 Liability and Remedies\n\nThe ability to make a claim for patent infringement extends not only to the patentee, but to all persons claiming under the patentee.[74] The definition of a person claiming under the patentee extends to licensees. Furthermore, there is no requirement for the licence to be express; it can be implied.[75] When considering the facts as to whether an implied licence exists, the Court has held that a corporate affiliation is not enough to give a company standing.[76] Something more, giving the entity rights to use the patent, must exist.[77]\n\nLiability extends to all damages sustained after the grant of the patent by reason of the infringement.[78] It is also possible, in some circumstances, to claim the equitable remedy of an accounting of the infringer's profits in lieu of damages. The Court has held that the trial judge has complete discretion in deciding whether to grant this remedy.[79] The FCA recently upheld a decision of the trial judge refusing to award an accounting of profits because of the slow pace of the litigation and the failure of the patentee to compete with the generic company's price in the market.[80]\n\nRecent jurisprudence has also indicated that the differential profit approach is the preferred way of calculating an accounting of profits.[81] This approach asks the Court to consider whether a non-infringing option was available; if it was, the amount to be paid to the patentee is the difference between the gross profits from infringement and the gross profits from non-infringement, directly attributing the profit resulting from the infringement of the invention.[82]\n\nA defendant can only be held liable for infringement of valid issued claims as of the issue date. Such claims often differ in scope from the published claims. If the issued claims are of similar scope to the published claims, then the defendant can be held liable for \"reasonable compensation,\" which generally amounts to a reasonable royalty rate, calculated as of the publication date for conduct that would have constituted infringement, back to the date that the patent application is open to public inspection, as if the patent had been issued on that day.[83] This seems to be understood to mean a reasonable royalty rate.[84]\n\n14.5.2 Test for Infringement\n\nThe question to be asked by the Court in determining infringement is:\n\ndid the defendant, by his acts or conduct, deprive the inventor, in whole or in part, indirectly or directly of the patented invention?[85]\n\nIn particular, where a defendant's impugned activities furthered its own commercial interests, the Court should be particularly alert to the possibility that the defendant has committed an infringing use.[86]\n\nAt the infringement analysis stage, the accused device or process is to be examined and its constituent elements identified using the same kind of purposive analysis as is applied to the patent. Whether a defendant's product or process falls within the scope of the monopoly identified is decided on the basis of the following criteria:\n\na. Where the defendant's product or process does not have all the essential elements of the claim it does not infringe, and the inquiry ends.\n\nb. If the defendant's product or process has all the essential elements, then does it incorporate the non essential elements claimed? If so, there is infringement unless the non-essential elements consist of a variation that has a material effect on the way in which the invention works. If that is so, there is no infringement.\n\nc. If the non essential element consists of a variant which has no material effect on the way in which the invention works, then was that fact obvious as of the date of publication of the patent to a reader skilled in the art? If not, there is no infringement.\n\nd. If the PSIA would nevertheless have understood from the language of the claim that the patentee intended that strict compliance with the primary meaning was an essential requirement of the invention, then the variant is outside the claim and there is no infringement.[87]\n\n14.5.3 Inducement\n\nA person who induces or procures another to infringe a patent is responsible for the infringement. Inducement requires three conditions to be met:\n\n(1) that the act of infringement was completed by the direct infringer;\n\n(2) the completed act of infringement was influenced by the seller, to the point where without said influence, infringement by the buyer would not otherwise take place; and;\n\n(3) the influence must knowingly be exercised by the seller, such that the seller knows that his influence will result in the completion of the act of infringement.[88]\n\nThe FCA has held that each of these criteria is a question of fact as to whether inducement is proved.[89]\n\nThe classic case of inducement in Canada occurred when a manufacturer sold the components of a sailboard that, when assembled, infringed the patent. The FCA held that the manufacturer was not simply selling parts — those parts were for the purpose of making a sailboard.[90] The FCA then drew inferences that the manufacturer knew of the existence of the patent and induced purchasers of its sailboard kits to infringe the patent, and was thus guilty of infringement.[91]\n\n14.5.4 Exceptions to Infringement\n\nThe _Patent Act_ contains an early working exception that permits a person to make, construct, use, or sell a patented invention solely for uses reasonably related to the development and submission of information required to comply with a regulatory regime in respect of the manufacture, construction, or sale of that product.[92] This exception is relied on heavily in the generic pharmaceutical industry, as it applies to otherwise infringing products required for any regulatory regime around the world.\n\nAt common law, the Courts have also established a separate experimental-use exception to infringement for _bona fide_ experimental use. The leading case is _Micro Chemicals_ , where making the patented substance for the purpose of establishing that a quality product could be manufactured was held to be experimental and, thus, non-infringing.[93]\n\n14.6 VALIDITY\n\nA party can try to cancel an issued Canadian patent pursuant to the _Patent Act_. If a party is sued for patent infringement, they can defend the suit with allegations of invalidity,[94] and/or start a counterclaim to impeach the patent pursuant to s. 60(1) of the _Patent Act_.[95]\n\nIn order to start an impeachment proceeding, the proposed plaintiff must establish that it has standing as an interested person to attack the patent, but it need not be actually making, using, or selling the invention in Canada. The meaning of \"interested person\" has been described as broad.[96] Standing will generally be established if the challenger can show that the patent detrimentally affects its business interests, or that the challenger intends to sell a product in competition with the patentee.[97] As in a non-infringement action, the plaintiff must post a bond for security of the patentee's costs of the action.[98]\n\nAn impeachment proceeding is conducted by way of action, originating by way of a statement of claim or by way of counterclaim and defence to an infringement action.\n\nPatents are presumed to be valid.[99] The burden to prove invalidity, on a balance of probabilities, is on the person attacking the validity of the patent.[100] The patent and its claims will be either upheld or struck down, in whole or in part, but a finding of invalidity of some claims will not affect the validity of the remaining claims.[101] The Court will not redraft the claims in order to save the patent.[102]\n\nThere are a number of grounds on which the validity of a patent can be contested, and most mirror the grounds on which a patent is granted. We discuss here the most frequently litigated — anticipation, obviousness, sufficiency, utility, sound prediction, double patenting, and ambiguity. The courts have held that patent law is entirely statutory:\n\nIt is well established that Canadian patent law is entirely statutory in nature. It is derived from the Act and the regulations enacted under it.... the Act and Regulations are described by this Court as a \"complete code.\"[103]\n\n14.6.1 Anticipation\n\nPursuant to the _Patent Act_ (applicable to applications filed after October 1, 1989), the subject matter of a patent must not be previously disclosed.[104] The _Patent Act_ then defines four different ways in which such previous disclosure could occur:\n\n(a) more than one year before the filing date by the applicant (or a person who obtained knowledge from the applicant) in such a manner that the subject matter became available to the public;\n\n(b) before the claim date by someone other than the applicant, or a person who obtained the knowledge from the applicant, in such a manner that the subject matter became available to the public;\n\n(c) in a patent application filed in Canada by a person other than the applicant, with a filing date before the claim date; or\n\n(d) in certain circumstances, in a patent application filed in Canada by a person other than the applicant which has a filing date on or after the claim date.[105]\n\nThe SCC has set out a two-part test for determining whether a piece of prior art is anticipatory; it must both disclose and enable the invention in the patent at issue.[106]\n\nThe disclosure element is met if the prior art discloses \"subject matter which, if performed, would necessarily result in infringement of that patent.\"[107] All of the essential elements of the invention must be present in a single document. No trial and error is permitted at this stage.[108] In the context of a genus patent being alleged to anticipate a selection patent, the Court held that the prior disclosure must also disclose the special advantages of the selection patent.[109]\n\nWhen considering enablement, some amount of experimentation is permitted; however, \"the skilled person must still be able to perform or make the invention of the second patent without undue burden.\"[110] If that trial and error goes so far as to be an inventive step, then the prior disclosure is not enabling.[111]\n\nThe following factors were set out for consideration:\n\n1. Enablement is to be assessed having regard to the prior patent as a whole including the specification and the claims. There is no reason to limit what the skilled person may consider in the prior patent in order to discover how to perform or make the invention of the subsequent patent. The entire prior patent constitutes prior art.\n\n2. The skilled person may use his or her common general knowledge to supplement information contained in the prior patent. Common general knowledge means knowledge generally known by persons skilled in the relevant art at the relevant time.\n\n3. The prior patent must provide enough information to allow the subsequently claimed invention to be performed without undue burden. When considering whether there is undue burden, the nature of the invention must be taken into account. For example, if the invention takes place in a field of technology in which trials and experiments are generally carried out, the threshold for undue burden will tend to be higher than in circumstances in which less effort is normal. If inventive steps are required, the prior art will not be considered as enabling. However, routine trials are acceptable and would not be considered undue burden. But experiments or trials and errors are not to be prolonged even in fields of technology in which trials and experiments are generally carried out. No time limits on exercises of energy can be laid down; however, prolonged or arduous trial and error would not be considered routine.\n\n4. Obvious errors or omissions in the prior patent will not prevent enablement if reasonable skill and knowledge in the art could readily correct the error or find what was omitted.[112]\n\nThus, the challenger must show that the prior publication meets the tests for both disclosure and enablement. Since this is a two-step test, if there is no disclosure, the Court does not even have to consider whether there has been enablement.[113]\n\nAs described above, there is a one-year grace period for disclosure by the applicant.[114]\n\nThere is no restriction as to the geographical location of a disclosure to the public. Section 28.2 of the _Patent Act_ applies to public disclosures made in Canada or elsewhere. Any single disclosure of information about the invention made to another party without a confidentiality restriction may constitute public disclosure. The disclosure may be, for example, in writing, by selling a product, by using a product, or by performing a method.\n\nSubject matter that has not been disclosed to the public but is disclosed in a co-pending patent application previously filed in Canada is citable against a patent application for determining novelty.[115] If a Canadian application claims the same subject matter as disclosed and claimed in a co-pending Canadian application, the patent application having the earliest claim date will be entitled to claims to the subject matter over any application having a later claim date.\n\nThe FCA has held that whether a piece of prior art discloses the second invention will be determined by how a PSIA would understand the document.[116] If disclosure is found to exist, then enablement is addressed. \"The prior art must provide the POSITA, using his or her common knowledge, with enough information to allow the subsequently claimed invention to be performed without undue burden.\"[117] Routine experimentation is acceptable in a field of technology where trials and experiments are generally carried out.[118]\n\nWhether the alleged anticipatory disclosure is to the public can be the subject of debate, and will be dependent on the specific facts surrounding the disclosure. However, the Court has held that it is the unconditional sale that makes a product available to the public.[119] Furthermore, a general industry practice of confidentiality has been held to render a sale confidential.[120]\n\nAlthough the sale of a product may constitute public disclosure, Canada does not enforce an on-sale bar. In some cases, the sale of a product that falls within a claim may not constitute public disclosure of the subject matter of the claim. This applies in cases where the invention cannot be determined or reverse-engineered from the product. If the sale of the product does not make the invention available to the public, then sale of the product is not anticipation.[121]\n\n14.6.2 Obviousness\n\nThe _Patent Act_ also states that the subject matter defined by a claim in an application for a patent must be subject matter that would not have been obvious on the claim date to a PSIA to which it pertains (applicable to applications filed after October 1, 1989).[122] The PSIA can consider information disclosed more than one year before the Canadian filing date by the applicant or a person obtaining knowledge through him or her and information disclosed before the claim date, in the case of other persons.[123] In both cases, the information must become available to the public.\n\nThus the same one-year grace period for disclosure exists for the applicant. When alleging obviousness, multiple pieces of prior art can be used. Also similar to the novelty provisions, s. 28.3 applies to public disclosures made in Canada or elsewhere; there is no restriction on the geographical location of the publication. In contrast to the novelty provisions, undisclosed Canadian applications with a filing date or claim date prior to the filing date of the Canadian application are not citable against a claim under s. 28.3.\n\nThe SCC has restated the test for obviousness as follows:\n\n(1) (a) Identify the notional \"person skilled in the art\";\n\n(b) Identify the relevant common general knowledge of that person;\n\n(2) Identify the inventive concept of the claim in question or if that cannot readily be done, construe it;\n\n(3) Identify what, if any, differences exist between the matter cited as forming part of the \"state of the art\" and the inventive concept of the claim or the claim as construed;\n\n(4) Viewed without any knowledge of the alleged invention as claimed, do those differences constitute steps which would have been obvious to the person skilled in the art or do they require any degree of invention?[124]\n\nThen, at this fourth stage of the test, the Court can consider the issue of whether the claimed invention is \"obvious to try.\" This has been held to be appropriate in areas where advancement is won by experimentation.[125] The factors in an analysis of whether a claimed invention was obvious to try are:\n\n1. Is it more or less self-evident that what is being tried ought to work? Are there a finite number of identified predictable solutions known to persons skilled in the art?\n\n2. What is the extent, nature and amount of effort required to achieve the invention? Are routine trials carried out or is the experimentation prolonged and arduous, such that the trials would not be considered routine?\n\n3. Is there a motive provided in the prior art to find the solution the patent addresses?[126]\n\nThe FCA has held that \"worth a try\" is not synonymous with \"obvious to try.\"[127] The \"mere possibility that something might turn up is not enough.\"[128]\n\nCanadian courts caution themselves repeatedly against the dangers of hindsight because, after the event, nothing is easier than to say that the thing was obvious and involved no invention:[129]\n\nEvery invention is obvious after it has been made, and to no one more so than an expert in the field. Where the expert has been hired for the purpose of testifying, his infallible hindsight is even more suspect. It is so easy, once the teaching of a patent is known, to say, \"I could have done that\"; before the assertion can be given any weight, one must have a satisfactory answer to the question, \"Why didn't you?\"[130]\n\n14.6.3 Sufficiency\n\nSection 27(3)(b) of the _Patent Act_ requires that a patentee set out clearly in the specification the method of making or using the invention in such full, clear, concise, and exact terms as to enable a PSIA to make or use it.[131] The description of the invention is the _quid pro quo_ for which the inventor is given a monopoly for a limited term of years.[132]\n\nHistorically, the SCC has held:\n\nThe applicant must disclose everything that is essential for the invention to function properly. To be complete, it must meet two conditions: it must describe the invention and define the way it is produced or built. The applicant must define the nature of the invention and describe how it is put into operation. A failure to meet the first condition would invalidate the application for ambiguity, while a failure to meet the second invalidates it for insufficiency. The description must be such as to enable a person skilled in the art or the field of the invention to produce it using only the instructions contained in the disclosure and once the monopoly period is over, to use the invention as successfully as the inventor could at the time of his application.[133]\n\nThe SCC has also held that, in order for the patent specification to be sufficient pursuant to the _Patent Act_ , it must answer two questions: What is your invention? How does it work?[134]\n\nThere have been a number of challenges to the sufficiency of disclosure in the Federal Court and the FCA recently, seeking to delineate the requirements of this section of the _Patent Act_. The SCC is scheduled to hear a case relating to, _inter alia_ , sufficiency in February 2012, and will likely provide guidance as to the scope of this requirement.[135]\n\n14.6.4 Utility and Sound Prediction\n\nUtility is an essential part of the definition of an invention.[136] Unless the inventor is in a position to establish utility as of the time the patent is applied for, on the basis of either demonstration or sound prediction, the patent is invalid.[137] To establish a lack of utility, the alleged infringer must demonstrate \"that the invention will not work, either in the sense that it will not operate at all or, more broadly, that it will not do what the specification promises that it will do\":[138]\n\nWhere the specification does not promise a specific result, no particular level of utility is required; a \"mere scintilla\" of utility will suffice. However, where the specification sets out an explicit \"promise,\" utility will be measured against that promise. The question is whether the invention does what the patent promises it will do.[139]\n\nGenerally speaking, patent claims that include inoperable embodiments are invalid.[140] However, if a PSIA would know that a particular compound or combination falling within the claims would be inoperable, then it falls outside the claim, and the claim itself is valid.[141]\n\nWhere not demonstrated in fact, utility must be premised on a sound prediction. If a patent supported on the basis of sound prediction is subsequently challenged, the challenge will succeed if the prediction at the date of the application was not sound or, irrespective of the soundness of the prediction, there is evidence of lack of utility in respect of some area covered.[142] However, \"the doctrine of sound prediction presupposes that further work remains to be done.\"[143]\n\nThe SCC held that the doctrine of sound prediction has three components. First, there must be a factual basis for the prediction. At the date of the patent application, the inventor must have an articulable and sound line of reasoning from which the desired result can be inferred from the factual basis. Third, there must be proper disclosure, meaning that the specification needs to provide a full, clear, and exact description of the nature of the invention and the manner in which it can be practised.[144] A line of reasoning grounded in known \"architecture of chemical compounds\" is acceptable.[145] There is a line of cases that have held that the factual basis and the sound line of reasoning must be properly described in the patent disclosure.[146]\n\nRecently, the FCA has considered issues of utility on a number of occasions. Each of these cases appears to turn on the particular facts of the case and the construction of the promise of the patent. The Court has held that whether a particular compound within the claim can be made is not an element of sound prediction, but rather of sufficiency.[147] The FCA has held that \"testing is not an absolute requirement for a patent based on sound prediction.\"[148] The Court has also held that \"evidence with respect to utility will generally go well beyond the patent's content.\"[149] However, in other cases, the testing performed by the patentee was not considered to be sufficient to demonstrate utility, and the tests were not adequately described in the patent to support a finding of sound prediction.[150]\n\nFurther guidance as to the requirements for utility and sound prediction may be given when _Teva_ is heard by the SCC in February 2012.[151]\n\n14.6.5 Double Patenting\n\nSection 27 of the _Patent Act_ provides that the Commissioner shall grant _a patent_ for an invention.[152] This has led to a series of decisions defining the judge-made concept of double patenting and the prohibition on having two patents covering the same invention. Unlike U.S. law, Canadian patent law does not allow for terminal disclaimers.\n\nThe SCC has held that there are two branches to the prohibition on double patenting.[153] The first branch is termed \"same invention\" double patenting, and the question to be determined by the judge is whether the two patents contain claims that are identical or coterminous.[154] The second branch is termed \"obviousness\" double patenting. It is \"a more flexible and less literal test that prohibits the issuance of a second patent with claims that are not 'patentably distinct' from those of the earlier patent.\"[155]\n\nThe classical case is one in which a patentee obtains a patent for a medicine in diluted form where it already has a patent on the medicine. In that event, the claims are neither identical nor coterminous. They are, however, invalid on the basis that the diluted and undiluted substances are but two aspects of exactly the same invention.[156]\n\nDivisional applications may be especially susceptible to an attack based on double patenting. Divisional applications are either voluntary or forced. If the Commissioner of Patents issues a unity objection during prosecution of the patent, and a divisional patent is filed as a result, it is a forced divisional.[157] However, if no such objection is made, and a divisional is filed, it will be considered to be voluntary.\n\nIn relation to \"forced\" divisionals, the SCC determined in 1981 that \"if patents are granted on divisional applications directed by the Patent Office, none of them should be deemed invalid or open to attack, by reason only of the grant of the original patent.\"[158] Thus, the Court has held thus far that a divisional application required to be filed by the Commissioner cannot be invalidated by reason of double patenting.\n\nHowever, voluntary divisionals are in danger. The Federal Court has held a patent resulting from a voluntary divisional invalid for \"obviousness-type\" double patenting over the parent patent, even though both expired on the same date.[159] The Canadian courts have found that a patentee receives a benefit by having two patents for an invention, even if both expire on the same day.[160]\n\nIn view of this case law, a patentee should be extremely reluctant to file a divisional application in cases where the Patent Office has not required that the claims be limited. When enforcing the resulting divisional patent, the patentee may run into double-patenting issues.\n\n14.6.6 Ambiguity\n\nSection 27(4) of the _Patent Act_ requires that patent claims must define \"distinctly and in explicit terms\" the subject matter for which exclusivity is claimed. Thus, the inventor must describe in language, free from ambiguity, the nature of his invention, including the manner in which it is to be performed.[161] If the inventor uses language that, read fairly, is avoidably obscure or ambiguous, the patent is invalid. Mere difficulty in construing the meaning of a term is not, however, invalidating.[162]\n\nA claim that is unclear as to its boundaries is invalid. If the PSIA, in attempting to put a claim to use or in trying to determine the boundaries outside of which another method would not infringe, is given insufficient or obscure direction, then the claim is invalid.[163] Put otherwise, a patent must make clear what is within and what is not within a given claim.[164] Where a claim can be interpreted in more than one way, it may be found invalid for ambiguity.[165] In such a case, it would be impossible for the PSIA to know, at least in advance, when a manufacture, use, or sale of the patented product is within the claim.\n\nNotwithstanding the foregoing, courts are reluctant to invalidate a claim for ambiguity. A phrase that can be properly interpreted using grammatical rules and common sense is not ambiguous. Conflicts among experts' interpretations of a phrase can sometimes be solved with a commonsense grammatical reading of the phrase.[166] The Court has reviewed many of the relevant authorities, including _Mobil Oil_ , and held that, \"[i]n short, ambiguity is truly a last resort, rarely, if ever, to be used.\"[167]\n\n14.6.7 Selection Patents\n\nSelection patents commonly arise in the context of chemical patents. Often the first patent claims a \"genus\" or a group of products or processes from which a particular result can be predicted. If one or more members of the genus have a particular property or quality, that group may be considered a separate invention. That invention could give rise to a selection patent. The _Patent Act_ provides for this eventuality, allowing a person to obtain a patent for an improvement.[168]\n\nThe Supreme Court upheld the concept of selection patents in general and adopted the criteria that must be satisfied for a valid selection patent as set out in 1930 by Maugham J. in _In re I.G. Farbenindustrie A.G.'s Patents_ :\n\n1. There must be a substantial advantage to be secured or disadvantage to be avoided by the use of the selected members.\n\n2. The whole of the selected members (subject to \"a few exceptions here and there\") possess the advantage in question.\n\n3. The selection must be in respect of a quality of a special character peculiar to the selected group. If further research revealed a small number of unselected compounds possessing the same advantage, that would not invalidate the selection patent. However, if research showed that a larger number of unselected compounds possessed the same advantage, the quality of the compound claimed in the selection patent would not be of a special character.[169]\n\nThe SCC also held that a selection patent should not be treated differently from any other patent.[170]\n\nFollowing _Sanofi_ , the FCA held that\n\na challenge directed to a determination that the conditions for a selection patent have not been met does not constitute an independent basis upon which to attack the validity of a patent. Rather, the conditions for a valid selection patent serve to characterize the patent and accordingly inform the analysis for the grounds of validity set out in the Act — novelty, obviousness, sufficiency and utility. In short, a selection patent is vulnerable to attack on any of the grounds set out in the Act.[171]\n\n14.7 OTHER PROCEDURAL CHALLENGES TO PATENTS\n\nIn addition to the traditional validity challenges described above, a number of other patent challenges can be brought pursuant to the _Patent Act_.\n\n14.7.1 Section 53 Material Misstatement/Fraud\n\nSection 53 of the _Patent Act_ states that a patent is void if a material allegation in the petition is untrue or if the specification contains more or less than is necessary for obtaining the patent and the omission or addition is wilfully made for the purpose of misleading.[172] The Court has held that allegations under s. 53 are akin to allegations of fraud.[173] The Court has also held that pleadings under s. 53 must be pleaded with particularity so that the party has enough opportunity to know what is alleged and prepare its defences.[174]\n\nIn the past, the FCA has held that failure to name an inventor is not sufficient to void a patent, because that would be a draconian remedy, depriving inventors of their interests rather than granting them what they had previously been denied.[175] However, the FCA in _Weatherford_ seems to indicate that a material misstatement as to inventorship may be enough to void a patent in the future, depending on the factual circumstances.[176]\n\nIt is worth noting that, in the context of Notice of Compliance (NOC) proceedings, the courts are issuing orders reducing costs awards to successful second persons when they make unsuccessful allegations pursuant to s. 53.[177]\n\n14.7.2 Section 73 Abandonment\n\nSection 73 of the _Patent Act_ provides that an application for a patent will be deemed to be abandoned if the applicant does not reply in good faith to a requisition made by an examiner in connection with an examination within six months after the requisition is made.[178]\n\nRecently, a number of companies have raised s. 73 as grounds for invalidating an issued patent. However, the FCA in an infringement action held:\n\nIn my view, subsection 53(1) of the Act speaks to misrepresentations in relation to patents, that is, issued patents. Paragraph 73(1)(a) speaks to good faith in the prosecution of the patent application. The provisions are mutually exclusive. This interpretation is consistent with the plain meaning of the provision, its context within the Act and Canadian jurisprudence. There is no indication that Parliament intended to alter the existing law that establishes a dichotomy between an application for a patent and a patent.\n\nTo be clear, the concept of abandonment in paragraph 73(1)(a) operates during the prosecution of the application for a patent. Its operation is extinguished once the patent issues. Post-issuance, the provisions of subsection 53(1) must be utilized with respect to allegations of misrepresentation. To conclude otherwise would result in absurdity. An issued patent would be subject to retroactive scrutiny by the courts in relation to the submissions made by an applicant to the Patent Office during prosecution (generally many years prior), judged against unknown criteria. It is for the Commissioner to determine whether an applicant's response to a requisition from an Examiner is made in good faith, not for the courts. The courts do not issue patents.[179]\n\n14.7.3 Improper Disclaimer\n\nSection 48 of the _Patent Act_ provides that a patentee can disclaim anything included in the patent by mistake, accident, or inadvertence.[180] The Court has held that a mistake as to law is sufficient for the purposes of s. 48.[181] The patentee can disclaim all or part of a claim.\n\nThe Commissioner of Patents does not have any discretion to refuse to accept a disclaimer.[182] However, if the disclaimer is challenged, the patentee must prove the mistake, accident, or inadvertence on a balance of probabilities.[183] Furthermore, by filing the disclaimer in Court, the patentee has admitted that the original patent was too broad. Thus, the patentee is not entitled to return to its original claim(s).[184]\n\nA disclaimer is only permitted to narrow the scope of the claim. The FCA has held that if a disclaimer broadens the scope of the claim, it is invalid.[185] Thus, a disclaimer cannot introduce new inventive elements, but it is permitted to introduce new essential elements, because that can narrow the scope of the patent.[186]\n\nThe SCC has held that a disclaimer must be filed before an action is started.[187] In the context of proceedings pursuant to the _Patented Medicines (Notice of Compliance) Regulations_ , the FCA has held that the date for assessing the justification of a Notice of Allegation (NOA) is the date of the hearing of the prohibition proceeding.[188] Thus, a patentee is permitted to file a disclaimer after receiving an NOA and to have the disclaimed patent considered in the prohibition proceeding.[189] However, the generic company is also permitted to challenge the disclaimer in the proceeding.[190]\n\n14.7.4 Competition Act Allegations\n\nCompanies have raised allegations under the _Competition Act_ [191] as defences to patent infringement actions. While they have been unsuccessful, they are worth briefly noting.\n\nIn a case involving Servier, Adir, and Apotex, Apotex alleged that Adir contravened s. 45 of the _Competition Act_ by entering into a settlement agreement with Schering and Hoechst.[192] The settlement agreement in question related to a dispute over who was entitled to patent claims that had been placed into conflict pursuant to s. 43 of the pre-1989 _Patent Act_. The parties settled the court case and divided the claims at issue between them. Apotex asserted that this agreement ensured that each party obtained patents covering ACE inhibitors, and that this was anti-competitive.[193] The FCA upheld the trial judge's determination that, at every step of the process, the parties were exercising their rights under the _Patent Act_ and _Federal Court Rules_.[194] Because there was \"nothing more\" than mere assertion of patent rights, there was no contravention of s. 45 of the _Competition Act_.[195] In addition, the claim was found to be time-barred by the trial judge; but this was not considered by the FCA.[196] Apotex had also pursued this allegation in an infringement action involving Schering and Aventis (formerly Hoechst) relating to another ACE inhibitor; however, it was dropped before trial.[197]\n\nIn a case involving Eli Lilly, Apotex, and Shionogi, Apotex alleged that Lilly and Shionogi conspired to allow Lilly to acquire patent rights granted to Shionogi for the purpose of preventing or impeding other manufacturers from making the antibiotic cefaclor, thus preventing competition in the Canadian market for cefaclor, contrary to s. 45 of the _Competition Act_.[198] The Court held that the claim was time-barred, because the assignment of the patents occurred more than two years prior to the claim.[199] The effects of the assignment \"may be examined for the purposes of determining whether or not this agreement was likely to unduly lessen competition, but it does not extend the period during which such conduct occurred.\"[200] The Court also held that in order to make out its claim, Apotex must first prove that it suffered loss or damage as a result of the alleged anti-competitive conduct.[201] In this case, Apotex did not suffer any damages as a result of the assignment.[202] The Court did not comment on whether there was a violation of s. 45 of the _Competition Act_.[203]\n\nIn another case, the plaintiff alleged that purchasing agreements which the defendant made with other companies were anti-competitive. However, the Court dismissed these claims on summary judgment due to the application of the limitation period.[204]\n\n14.7.5 Recordal Proceedings\n\nSection 52 of the _Patent Act_ provides that the Federal Court has jurisdiction, on the application of the Commissioner or any interested person, to order that any entry in the records of the Patent Office relating to the title of a patent be varied or expunged. \"Title\" is defined broadly to include not only ownership but also assignments, grants, and conveyances of ownership or the rights incidental to ownership.\n\nThe owner of a patent is, in the first instance, the inventor and thereafter an assignee. The Commissioner records the identity of both the inventor and the parties to the assignment. A challenge to ownership or the validity of an assignment may be commenced by way of an application for declaratory relief and for variation or expungement of the record.\n\nWhile the Federal Court has jurisdiction to amend the record with respect to an assignment, it will decline that jurisdiction where the underlying declaratory relief is sought in respect of a dispute that is, in substance, a dispute dependent on the interpretation of a contract between the litigants. In short, the Court will decline jurisdiction where the dispute is, in essence, a contractual issue beyond its statutory jurisdiction.[205]\n\nSection 52 applications may be available to resolve the two most difficult ownership issues — disputes as to who is an inventor and disputes as to whether the invention was made in the course of employment or other contractual obligation that would oblige the inventor to assign the invention to his or her employer or counterpart.[206]\n\n14.8 CHALLENGES IN THE PATENT OFFICE\n\n14.8.1 Filing Prior Art in the Patent Office\n\nA third party may challenge the patentability of another's patent application by filing with the Patent Office prior art that the third party believes has a bearing on the patentability of any claim in a pending patent application.[207] The prior art must be accompanied by an identification of the claim against which the proponent believes the prior art is relevant and an explanation of its relevance to the pending claim. No fee is required.[208] Under s. 34.1 of the _Patent Act_ , applicable prior art consists of patents, published patent applications, and printed publications. Printed publications may include not only journal articles but also newspaper articles or advertisements for a particular product.\n\nBefore the 1989 amendments to the _Patent Act_ , prior art was filed against a third-party application as a \"protest.\" Protests could include other documents in addition to patents, published patent applications, and printed publications and routinely included affidavits and declarations of experts. There is no longer a specific provision within the Act for protests; however, the Patent Office will usually accept them. No weight will be given to prior art other than that specifically listed within s. 34.1. It is preferable that the publication (or publicly available) date of any such publications or printed documents be clear on the face of the document. In order for the examiner to rely on such prior art, he or she must be able to substantiate the date on which the document was made available to the public. Further evidence, such as experts' affidavits, should be kept for use in court challenges to a patent.\n\nThe filing of prior art does not allow a third party to discuss the prior art with the Examiner or to make oral representations to the examiner. The examiner has no authority to correspond with anyone other than the agent of record. The examiner is, therefore, not able to discuss the art or its relevancy with the protesting party. The protesting party receives an acknowledgment that the filing of the prior art will become part of the Patent Office file, but will receive no further communication from the Patent Office. The onus is on the protesting party to continue to monitor the patent application file to review any steps taken by an examiner.\n\nOnce the prior art becomes part of the Patent Office file, the examiner will review it and determine whether the prior art is, in fact, relevant to the claims in the application. If the examiner determines that the prior art is relevant, he or she will issue a further Office Action on that basis. If the examiner determines that the prior art is not relevant, he or she will simply take no further action with respect to it. No further notice is given to the protesting party. The protesting party may file further submissions or additional prior art in response to any representations made by the applicant, or in response to the examiner's determination that the prior art is not relevant.\n\nThe limited role of the protesting party can be a significant disadvantage. While the protesting party does not have an opportunity to discuss the prior art with the examiner, the applicant is able to do so. Furthermore, should the protesting party wish to challenge in the Federal Court the validity of any patent that issues from the application, the Court may defer to the consideration given to the prior art by the examiner.\n\n14.8.2 Re-examination\n\nAny member of the public, including the patentee, may request the re-examination of any claim of a patent.[209] Re-examinations may be requested only on patents issuing from applications filed after October 1, 1989. Before this date, the \"old\" _Patent Act_ , which did not contain re-examination provisions, was in effect.\n\nA third party may commence re-examination of a patent by the filing of a request for re-examination, along with applicable prior art and the prescribed fee. The request for re-examination must set forth the pertinence of the prior art and explain how the prior art applies to the claim or claims being re-examined.[210] When the re-examination is requested by someone other than the patentee, the Patent Office will send a copy of the request to the patentee. At this point, the requesting party no longer plays an active role in the re-examination. The requesting party does not have an opportunity to make submissions either orally or in writing, nor is the requesting party notified of the decision. The requesting party has no right of appeal.\n\nAfter the request for re-examination is received, the Patent Office will establish a Re-examination Board, consisting of at least three persons, at least two of whom must be employees of the Patent Office.[211] Generally, the Board will consist of examiners from the Patent Office who have experience in the art or science to which the invention belongs. The Board has three months to determine whether the request for re-examination raises a substantial new question of patentability. Where the Board determines that no new question of patentability of a claim is raised, it will notify the requesting party of this decision. This decision is final and not subject to appeal or review.[212]\n\nWhere the Re-examination Board determines that the request for re-examination does raise a substantial new question affecting the patentability of a claim, the Board will notify the patentee of this decision and the reasons for it. The patentee has three months to submit a reply to the Board setting out any submissions it wishes to make on the issue of the patentability of the claim.[213] After receipt of a reply from the patentee or the expiry of the three-month time limit, the Board will proceed to re-examine the claim in issue. The re-examination proceedings must be completed within 12 months after the receipt of the reply from the patentee containing submissions on the issue of patentability of the claim. In making submissions, the patentee may propose amendments or new claims, but may not enlarge the scope of the claims.[214]\n\nOn conclusion of a re-examination proceeding, the Re-examination Board will issue a certificate having one of the following effects:[215]\n\na. cancellation of any claim of the patent determined to be unpatentable;\n\nb. confirmation that any claim of the patent is patentable; or\n\nc. incorporation into the patent of any proposed amendment or new claim determined to be patentable.\n\nA certificate issued by the Re-examination Board is attached to the patent and becomes part of it. Where a certificate has been issued, it may:[216]\n\na. cancel any claim but not all claims of the patent, in which case the patent shall be deemed to be issued from the date of grant in the corrected form;\n\nb. cancel all claims of the patent, in which case the patent shall be deemed never to have been issued; or\n\nc. amend any claim in the patent or incorporate a new claim in the patent, in which case the amended claim or new claim shall be effective from the date of the certificate for the unexpired term of the patent.\n\nAny decision by the Re-examination Board set out in the certificate is subject to appeal by the patentee to the Federal Court. An appeal must be taken within three months from the date of the certificate's issuance. A requesting party who is not the patentee has no right of appeal.[217]\n\n[1] _Convention on the Grant of European Patents (European Patent Convention_ ), 1973, 1065 U.N.T.S. 199, art. 99 (entry into force 7 October 1977), online: European Patent Office <<http://www.epo.org/law-practice/legal-texts/html/epc/2010/e/ar99.html>>.\n\n[2] United States, Bill H.R. 1249, _Leahy-Smith America Invents Act_ , 112th Cong., 2011-2012, s. 6.\n\n[3] See _Manual of Patent Office Practice_ , online: The Canadian Intellectual Property Office <<http://www.cipo.ic.gc.ca/eic/site/cipointernet-internetopic.nsf/eng/h_wr00720.html>>, s. 23.04.02 at 23-19-23-20 [ _MOPOP_ ].\n\n[4] _Scannex Technologies LLC v. Canada (Attorney General)_ , 2009 FC 1068, 78 C.P.R. (4th) 254 at para. 26 [ _Scannex_ ].\n\n[5] _Ibid._\n\n[6] _Dow Chemical Company v. Canada (Attorney General)_ , 2007 FC 1236, 63 C.P.R. (4th) 89.\n\n[7] _Repligen Corp. v. Canada (Attorney General)_ , 2010 FC 1288, 90 C.P.R. (4th) 409 [ _Repligen_ ].\n\n[8] _Ibid._ at para. 16.\n\n[9] _Hershkovitz v. Tyco Safety Products Canada Ltd._ , 2009 FC 256, 73 C.P.R. (4th) 331 [ _Hershkovitz FC_ ], aff'd 2010 FCA 190, 89 C.P.R. (4th) 101 [ _Hershkovitz FCA_ ].\n\n[10] _Hershkovitz FCA_ , _ibid._ at paras. 34-35.\n\n[11] _Patent Act_ , R.S.C. 1985, c. P-4, s. 47(1) [ _Patent Act_ ].\n\n[12] _Ibid._ , s. 47(2).\n\n[13] _Northern Electric Co. v. Photo Sound Corp._ , [1936] S.C.R. 649, 4 D.L.R. 657 [ _Northern Electric_ ].\n\n[14] _Ibid._ at 658-59 [emphasis added].\n\n[15] _Ibid._ at 659; s. 24 of the _Patent Act_ , R.S.C. 1906, c. 69, as recited at 658 reads: \"Whenever any patent is deemed defective or inoperative by reason of insufficient description and specification, or by reason of the patentee's _claiming more than_ he had a right to claim as new...\" [emphasis added].\n\n[16] _Patent Act_ , _supra_ note 11, s. 47(1).\n\n[17] _Mobil Oil Corp. v. Hercules Canada Inc._ (1994), 82 F.T.R. 211, 57 C.P.R. (3d) 488 (F.C.T.D.) [ _Mobil Oil TD_ ], rev'd (1995), 98 F.T.R. 319, 63 C.P.R. (3d) 473 (F.C.A.) [ _Mobil Oil CA_ ], leave to appeal to S.C.C. refused (1996), 66 C.P.R. (3d) vi.\n\n[18] _Mobil Oil TD_ , _ibid._ at 498, citing _Northern Electric_ , _supra_ note 13.\n\n[19] _Farbwerke Hoechst AG v. Canada (Commissioner of Patents)_ , [1966] S.C.R. 604, 50 C.P.R. 220 (S.C.C.) [ _Farbwerke_ ]; _Burton Parsons Chemicals Inc. v. Hewlett-Packard (Canada) Ltd._ (1974), [1976] 1 S.C.R. 555 (S.C.C.) [ _Burton Parsons_ ]; _Creations 2000 Inc. v. Canper Industrial Products Ltd._ (1988), 22 F.T.R. 180, 22 C.P.R. (3d) 389 (F.C.T.D.) [ _Creations 2000_ ], aff'd (1990), 34 C.P.R. (3d) 178 (F.C.A.).\n\n[20] _Farbwerke_ , _supra_ note 19 at 614, citing _Northern Electric_ , _supra_ note 17 at 667. Section 50 is a citation to the _Patent Act_ , R.S.C. 1952, c. 203 [ _Patent Act 1952_ ], which, as recited in _Farbwerke_ , _supra_ note 19 at 608, is substantively similar to s. 47(1).\n\n[21] _Mobil Oil TD_ , _supra_ note 17 at 500.\n\n[22] _Northern Electric_ , _supra_ note 13 at 661, 665-66; _Curl-Master Mfg. Co. Ltd. v. Atlas Brush Ltd._ , [1967] S.C.R. 514, 52 C.P.R. 51 [ _Curl-Master_ ].\n\n[23] _Mobil Oil TD_ , _supra_ note 17 at 499; _Mobil Oil TD_ was affirmed on this point; see _Mobil Oil CA_ , _supra_ note 17 at 481-82, 489.\n\n[24] _Mobil Oil TD_ , _supra_ note 17 at 499-500.\n\n[25] _Grand Tank (International) Inc. v. Brown_ , 2004 FC 1355, 37 C.P.R. (4th) 356 [ _Grand Tank_ ].\n\n[26] _Ibid._ at para. 11. It is implicit, both through mention of solicitor-client privilege and through acknowledgment that the patent agents \"at one time or another, provided legal counsel to the Plaintiffs,\" that each of the patent agents was also a lawyer.\n\n[27] _Creations 2000_ , _supra_ note 19 at 406.\n\n[28] _Rothmans, Benson & Hedges Inc. v. Imperial Tobacco Ltd./Ltée_ (1991), 42 F.T.R. 68, 35 C.P.R. (3d) 417 (F.C.T.D.) [ _Rothmans TD_ ], aff'd (1993), 61 F.T.R. 239, 47 C.P.R. (3d) 188 (F.C.A.).\n\n[29] _Flexi-Coil Ltd. v. F.P. Bourgault Industries Air Seeder Division Ltd._ (1990), 36 F.T.R. 149, 31 C.P.R. (3d) 529 (F.C.T.D.) [ _Flexi-Coil TD_ ], aff'd (1991), 41 F.T.R. 80, 35 C.P.R. (3d) 154 (F.C.A.).\n\n[30] _Continental Can Co. of Canada v. Wainberg_ (1969), 61 C.P.R. 161 (Ex. Ct.) [ _Continental Can_ ]; specifically, s. 50(2) of the _Patent Act 1952_ , _supra_ note 20 was at issue.\n\n[31] _Continental Can_ , _ibid._ at paras. 1-2.\n\n[32] _Ibid._ at 163, citing the Exchequer Court judgment affirmed by _Northern Electric_ , _supra_ note 13, and _Curl-Master_ , _supra_ note 22.\n\n[33] _Federal Courts Act_ , R.S.C. 1985, c. F-7, as am., s. 20.\n\n[34] _Free World Trust v. Électro Santé Inc._ , 2000 SCC 66, 9 C.P.R. (4th) 168 [ _Free World_ ].\n\n[35] _Whirlpool v. Camco_ , 2000 SCC 67, 9 C.P.R. (4th) 129 [ _Whirlpool_ ].\n\n[36] _Ibid._ at para. 49(b).\n\n[37] _Ibid._ at para. 44, citing _Catnic Components Ltd. v. Hill & Smith Ltd._ (1982) R.P.C. 183 at 243 (H.L.).\n\n[38] _Ibid._ at para. 49(e).\n\n[39] _Ibid._ at para. 45; _Free World_ , _supra_ note 34 at para. 52; _Beecham Canada Ltd. et al. v. Procter & Gamble Co._ (1982), 61 C.P.R. (2d) 1 at 9 (F.C.A.).\n\n[40] _Free World_ , _supra_ note 34 at para. 52.\n\n[41] _AT &T Technologies Inc. v. Mitel Corp._ (1989), 28 F.T.R. 241, 26 C.P.R. (3d) 238 at 249 (F.C.T.D.).\n\n[42] _Halford v. Seed Hawk_ , 2004 FC 88, 31 C.P.R. (4th) 434 [ _Halford FC_ ], aff'd 2006 FCA 275, 54 C.P.R. (4th) 130 [ _Halford FCA_ ], citing _D.M.I., Inc. v. Deere & Co._, 755 F. 2d, 1570 at 1574 (Fed. Cir. 1985).\n\n[43] _Nekoosa Packaging Corp et al. v. United Dominion Industries Ltd. et al._ (1994), 85 F.T.R. 160, 56 C.P.R. (3d) 470 (F.C.A.).\n\n[44] _Halford FC_ , _supra_ note 42 at para. 93, var'd by _Halford FCA_ , _supra_ note 42, aff'd with respect to claim construction at para. 28.\n\n[45] _Halford FC_ , _supra_ note 42 at para. 95.\n\n[46] _Eli Lilly & Co. v. Apotex Inc._, 2009 FC 991, 80 C.P.R. (4th) 1 [ _Eli Lilly_ ], aff'd 2010 FCA 240, 90 C.P.R. (4th) 327.\n\n[47] _Ibid._ at para. 90 [emphasis in original].\n\n[48] _Halford FC_ , _supra_ note 42 at para. 94.\n\n[49] _Abbott Laboratories v. Canada (Minister of Health)_ , 2007 FCA 83, 58 C.P.R. (4th) 97 at para. 33. Cited with approval in _Bridgeview Manufacturing Inc. v. 931409 Alberta Ltd._ , 2010 FCA 188, 87 C.P.R. (4th) 195 at para. 33.\n\n[50] _Whirlpool_ , _supra_ note 35 at para. 49(d).\n\n[51] _Ibid._ at para. 52.\n\n[52] _Ibid._ at para. 49(g); _Consolboard Inc. v. MacMillan Bloedel (Saskatchewan) Ltd._ , [1981] 1 S.C.R. 504, 56 C.P.R. (2d) 145 at 157 (S.C.C.) [ _Consolboard_ ].\n\n[53] _Shire Biochem Inc. v. Canada (Minister of Health)_ , 2008 FC 538, 67 C.P.R. (4th) 94 at para. 21; _Eli Lilly_ , _supra_ note 46 at para. 88.\n\n[54] _Whirlpool_ , _supra_ note 35 at para. 53.\n\n[55] _Eli Lilly_ , _supra_ note 46 at para. 90 [emphasis in original], citing H.G. Fox, _The Canadian Patent Law and Practice Relating to Letters Patent for Inventions_ , 4th ed. (Toronto: Carswell, 1969) at 219 [ _Fox_ ]; see also _Hoffmann-Laroche Ltd. v. Mayne Pharma (Canada) Inc._ , 2005 FC 814, 41 C.P.R. (4th) 505 at para. 43.\n\n[56] _Free World_ , _supra_ note 34 at paras. 45-50.\n\n[57] _Ibid._ at para. 51.\n\n[58] _Ibid._ at para. 51.\n\n[59] _Ibid._ at para. 52.\n\n[60] _Ibid._ at paras. 66-67.\n\n[61] _Ibid._ at para. 57.\n\n[62] _Ibid._ at para. 53.\n\n[63] _Ibid._ at para. 44.\n\n[64] _Whirlpool_ , _supra_ note 35 at para. 71.\n\n[65] _Free World_ , _supra_ note 34 at para. 44.\n\n[66] _Whirlpool_ , _supra_ note 35 at para. 53; _Burton Parsons_ , _supra_ note 19.\n\n[67] _Whirlpool_ , _supra_ note 35, at para. 53.\n\n[68] _Free World_ , _supra_ note 34 at para. 44, citing _Fox_ , _supra_ note 55 at 184.\n\n[69] _Patent Act_ , _supra_ note 11, s. 55.01.\n\n[70] _Ibid._ , s. 55.1.\n\n[71] _Ibid._ , s. 60(2).\n\n[72] _Hoffmann-La Roche Ltd. v. Kirin-Amgen Inc._ (2000), 197 F.T.R. 319, 11 C.P.R. (4th) 78 (F.C.A.).\n\n[73] _Patent Act_ , _supra_ note 11, s. 60(3).\n\n[74] _Ibid._ , s. 55(1).\n\n[75] _Laboratoires Servier v. Apotex Inc._ , 2008 FC 825, 67 C.P.R. (4th) 241 at para. 77 [ _Servier_ ], aff'd on other grounds (without comment on this point) 2009 FCA 222, 75 C.P.R. (4th) 443.\n\n[76] _Ibid._ at para. 82.\n\n[77] _Ibid._\n\n[78] _Patent Act_ , _supra_ note 11, s. 55.\n\n[79] _Apotex Inc. v. Merck & Co._, 2006 FCA 323, 55 C.P.R. (4th) 1 at para. 127.\n\n[80] _Ibid._ at paras. 128-133.\n\n[81] _Rivett v. Monsanto Canada_ , 2010 FCA 207, 87 C.P.R. (4th) 383.\n\n[82] _Ibid._ at para. 10.\n\n[83] _Patent Act_ , _supra_ note 11, s. 55(2).\n\n[84] _Jay-Lor International v. Penta Farm Systems Ltd._ , 2007 FC 358, 59 C.P.R. (4th) 228 at 123.\n\n[85] _Monsanto Canada Inc. v. Schmeiser_ , 2004 SCC 34, 31 C.P.R. (4th) 161 at para. 44 [ _Monsanto_ ].\n\n[86] _Ibid._ at para. 37.\n\n[87] _Free World_ , _supra_ note 34 at para. 55, citing _Improver Corp. v. Remington Consumer Products Ltd._ , [1990] F.S.R. 181 at 182.\n\n[88] _AB Hassle v. Canada (Minister of National Health & Welfare)_, 2002 FCA 421, 22 C.P.R. (4th) 1 at para. 17; see also _Bauer Hockey v. Easton Hockey_ , 2010 FC 361, 83 C.P.R. (4th) 315 at paras. 181-182, aff'd on other grounds (without comment on this point) 2011 FCA 83, 92 C.P.R. (4th) 103.\n\n[89] _Dableh v. Ontario Hydro_ (1996), 117 F.T.R. 160, 68 C.P.R. (3d) 129 at 149 (F.C.A.).\n\n[90] _Windsurfing International Inc. v. Trilantic Corporation_ (1985), 8 C.P.R. (3d) 241 at 265 (F.C.A.).\n\n[91] _Ibid._ at 268.\n\n[92] _Patent Act_ , _supra_ note 11, s. 55.2.\n\n[93] _Micro Chemicals Ltd. v. Smith Kline & French Inter-American Corp._ (1971), [1972] S.C.R. 506, 2 C.P.R. (2d) 193.\n\n[94] _Patent Act_ , _supra_ note 11, s. 59.\n\n[95] _Ibid._ , s. 60(1).\n\n[96] _Purcell Systems Inc. v. Argus Technologies Ltd._ , 2008 FC 1210, 69 C.P.R. (4th) 366.\n\n[97] _Wakefield Properties Corp. v. Teknion Furniture Systems Inc._ (1992), 56 F.T.R. 228, 44 C.P.R. (3d) 474 (F.C.T.D.).\n\n[98] _Patent Act_ , _supra_ note 11, s. 60(3).\n\n[99] _Ibid._ , s. 43(2).\n\n[100] _Whirlpool_ , _supra_ note 35 at para. 75.\n\n[101] _Patent Act_ , _supra_ note 11, s. 58.\n\n[102] _Eli Lilly & Co. v. O'Hara Manufacturing Ltd._ (1989), 26 C.P.R. (3d) 1 at 7 (F.C.A.).\n\n[103] _Corlac v. Weatherford_ , 2011 FCA 228, 2011 CarswellNat 2835 at para. 141 [citations omitted] [ _Weatherford_ ]. See also _Sanofi_ , _infra_ note 106.\n\n[104] _Patent Act_ , _supra_ note 11, s. 28.2.\n\n[105] _Ibid._\n\n[106] _Sanofi-Synthelabo Canada Inc. v. Apotex Inc._ , 2008 SCC 61, 69 C.P.R. (4th) 251 [ _Sanofi_ ].\n\n[107] _Ibid._ at para. 25.\n\n[108] _Ibid._ at para. 32.\n\n[109] _Ibid._\n\n[110] _Ibid._ at para. 33.\n\n[111] _Ibid._\n\n[112] _Ibid._ at para. 37.\n\n[113] _Ibid._ at para. 42.\n\n[114] _Patent Act_ , _supra_ note 11, s. 28.2(1)(a).\n\n[115] _Ibid._ , s. 28.2(1)(c); s. 28.2(1)(d) of the _Patent Act_ is an analogous provision for other Canadian applications filed after the filing date of the application but with a priority claim earlier than the filing date.\n\n[116] _Eli Lilly Canada Inc. v. Novopharm Ltd._ , 2010 FCA 197, 85 C.P.R. (4th) 413 at para. 44 [ _Eli Lilly v. Novopharm_ ].\n\n[117] _Ibid._ at para. 45.\n\n[118] _Ibid._\n\n[119] _Weatherford_ , _supra_ note 103 at para. 45.\n\n[120] _Ibid._ at para. 63.\n\n[121] _Baker Petrolite Corp. v. Canwell Enviro-Industries Ltd._ , 2002 FCA 158, 17 C.P.R. (4th) 478.\n\n[122] _Patent Act_ , _supra_ note 11, s. 28.3.\n\n[123] _Ibid._ , ss. 28.3(a) and (b), respectively.\n\n[124] _Sanofi_ , _supra_ note 106 at para. 67.\n\n[125] _Ibid._ at para. 68.\n\n[126] _Ibid._ at para. 69.\n\n[127] _Pfizer Ltd. v. Ratiopharm Inc._ , 2010 FCA 204, 87 C.P.R. (4th) 185 at para 15.\n\n[128] _Sanofi_ , _supra_ note 106 at para. 66.\n\n[129] _Reading & Bates Construction Co. v. Baker Energy Resources Corp._ (1987), 14 F.T.R. 81, 18 C.P.R. (3d) 180 at 188, citing _Non-Drip Measure Co. Ltd. v. Stranger's Ltd._ (1943), 60 R.P.C. 135 at 142 (H.L.).\n\n[130] _Beloit Canada Ltd. v. Valmet Oy_ (1986), 8 C.P.R. (3d) 289 at 295 (F.C.A.).\n\n[131] _Patent Act_ , _supra_ note 11, s. 27(3)(b).\n\n[132] _Consolboard_ , _supra_ note 52 at 154.\n\n[133] _Pioneer Hi-Bred Ltd. v. Canada (Commissioner of Patents)_ , [1989] 1 S.C.R. 1623, 25 C.P.R. (3d) 257 at 268 (S.C.C.) [citations omitted].\n\n[134] _Consolboard_ , _supra_ note 52 at 157.\n\n[135] _Teva Canada Ltd. v. Pfizer et al._ , 2010 FCA 242, 88 C.P.R. (4th) 405, leave to appeal to S.C.C. granted, docket no. 33951 (5 May 2011) [ _Teva_ ].\n\n[136] _Patent Act_ , _supra_ note 11, s. 2.\n\n[137] _Apotex Inc. v. Wellcome Foundation Ltd._ , [2002] 4 S.C.R. 153, 21 C.P.R. (4th) 499 (S.C.C.) [ _Wellcome_ ].\n\n[138] _Consolboard_ , _supra_ note 52 at 160, citing _Halsbury's Laws of England_ , 3d ed., vol. 29 (London: Buttersworths, 1980) at 59.\n\n[139] _Eli Lilly v. Novopharm_ , _supra_ note 116 at para. 76 [citations omitted].\n\n[140] _Minerals Separation North American Corp. v. Noranda Mines Ltd._ (1952), 15 C.P.R. 133 (S.C.C.).\n\n[141] _Omark Industries (1960) Ltd. v. Gouger Saw Chain Co._ , [1965] 1 Ex. C.R. 457, 45 C.P.R. 169 (Ex. Ct.); _Appliance Service Co. v. Sarco Canada Ltd._ (1974), 14 C.P.R. (2d) 59 (F.C.T.D.); _Burton Parsons_ , _supra_ note 19.\n\n[142] _Wellcome_ , _supra_ note 137 at para. 56.\n\n[143] _Eli Lilly v. Novopharm_ , _supra_ note 116 at para. 82.\n\n[144] _Wellcome_ , _supra_ note 137.\n\n[145] _Ibid._ at para. 70, citing _Burton Parsons_ , _supra_ note 19 and _Monsanto Co. v. Canada (Commissioner of Patents)_ , [1979] 2 S.C.R. 1108, 42 C.P.R. (2d) 161 (S.C.C.).\n\n[146] _Eli Lilly Canada Inc. v. Apotex Inc._ , 2009 FCA 97, 78 C.P.R. (4th) 388 [ _Eli Lilly v. Apotex FCA_ ]; _Eli Lilly & Co. v. Teva Canada Ltd._, 2011 FCA 220, 94 C.P.R. (4th) 95 [ _Eli Lilly v. Teva_ ].\n\n[147] _Apotex Inc. v. Laboratoires Servier_ , 2009 FCA 222, 75 C.P.R. (4th) 443 at para. 115 [ _Apotex v. Servier_ ].\n\n[148] _Pfizer Canada Inc. v. Apotex Inc._ , 2007 FCA 209, 60 C.P.R. (4th) 81 at para. 152.\n\n[149] _Eli Lilly v. Novopharm_ , _supra_ note 116 at para. 92.\n\n[150] _Eli Lilly v. Teva_ , _supra_ note 146; _Eli Lilly v. Apotex FCA_ , _supra_ note 146.\n\n[151] _Teva_ , _supra_ note 135.\n\n[152] _Patent Act_ , _supra_ note 11, s. 27.\n\n[153] _Whirlpool_ , _supra_ note 35.\n\n[154] _Ibid._ at para. 65.\n\n[155] _Ibid._ at para. 66.\n\n[156] _Farbwerke_ , _supra_ note 19.\n\n[157] _Patent Act_ , _supra_ note 11, s. 36(2.1).\n\n[158] _Consolboard_ , _supra_ note 52 at 169.\n\n[159] _GlaxoSmithKline Inc. et al. v. Apotex Inc. et al._ (2003), 234 F.T.R. 251, 27 C.P.R. (4th) 114 (F.C.T.D.).\n\n[160] _Ibid._\n\n[161] _French's Complex Ore Reduction Co. of Canada v. Electrolytic Zinc Process Co._ , [1930] S.C.R. 462 at 470 (S.C.C.).\n\n[162] _Natural Colour Kinematography Co. v. Bioschemes Ltd._ (1915), 32 R.P.C. 256 (H.L.).\n\n[163] _Xerox of Canada Ltd. v. IBM Canada Ltd._ (1977), 33 CPR (2d) 24 at 82 (F.C.T.D.).\n\n[164] _Smith Incubator Co. v. Seiling_ , [1937] S.C.R. 251 at 255 (S.C.C.).\n\n[165] _Apotex Inc. v. Hoffmann-La Roche Ltd._ (1989), 27 F.T.R. 240, 24 C.P.R. (3d) 289 at 299 (F.C.A.).\n\n[166] _Mobil Oil Corp. v. Hercules Canada Inc._ (1995), 188 N.R. 382, 63 C.P.R. (3d) 473 at 484 (F.C.A.) [ _Mobil Oil_ ].\n\n[167] _Pfizer Canada Inc. v. Canada (Minister of Health)_ , 2005 FC 1725, 46 C.P.R. (4th) 244 at para. 53.\n\n[168] _Patent Act_ , _supra_ note 11, s. 32.\n\n[169] _Sanofi_ , _supra_ note 106 at para. 10, citing _I.G. Farbenindustrie A.G.'s Patents, In re_ (1930), 47 R.P.C. 289 (Ch. D.).\n\n[170] _Ibid._ at paras. 9, 108.\n\n[171] _Eli Lilly v. Novopharm_ , _supra_ note 116 at para. 27.\n\n[172] _Patent Act_ , _supra_ note 11, s. 53(1).\n\n[173] _Eli Lilly Canada Inc. v. Apotex Inc._ , 2008 FC 142, 63 C.P.R. (4th) 406 at paras. 62-63 [ _Eli Lilly v. Apotex FC_ ], aff'd on other grounds (without comment on this point) _Eli Lilly v. Apotex FCA_ , _supra_ note 146.\n\n[174] _Ratiopharm Inc. v. Pfizer Ltd._ , 2009 FC 711, 76 C.P.R. (4th) 241 at para. 199, aff'd 2010 FCA 204 [ _Ratiopharm_ ].\n\n[175] _Weatherford_ , _supra_ note 103, citing _671905 Alberta Inc. v. Q'Max Solutions Inc._ , 2003 FCA 241, 27 C.P.R. (4th) 385.\n\n[176] _Ibid._\n\n[177] _Eli Lilly v. Apotex FC_ , _supra_ note 173 at paras. 188, 192, aff'd _Eli Lilly v. Apotex FCA_ , _supra_ note 146. See _Shire Biochem Inc. v. Canada (Minister of Health)_ , _supra_ note 53 at para. 111.\n\n[178] _Patent Act_ , _supra_ note 11, s. 73.\n\n[179] _Weatherford_ , _supra_ note 103 at paras. 149-150.\n\n[180] _Patent Act_ , _supra_ note 11, s. 48.\n\n[181] _Pfizer v. Apotex_ , 2007 FC 971, 61 C.P.R. (4th) 305 at para. 40, aff'd on other grounds (without comment on this point) 2009 FCA 8, 72 C.P.R. (4th) 141.\n\n[182] _Distrimedic Inc. v. Richards Packaging Inc._ , 2008 FCA 4, 66 C.P.R. (4th) 1.\n\n[183] _Hershkovitz FCA_ , _supra_ note 9 at para. 43.\n\n[184] _Ibid._ at paras. 46-47.\n\n[185] _Ibid._ at paras. 23-25.\n\n[186] _Ibid._ at para. 35.\n\n[187] _Canadian Celanese Ltd. v. B.V.D. Co._ , [1939] 2 D.L.R. 289 at 294.\n\n[188] _Abbott Laboratories v. Canada (Minister of Health)_ , 2010 FCA 168, 85 C.P.R. (4th) 279 at paras. 44, 52, citing _Merck Frosst v. Canada (Minister of National Health and Welfare)_ , [1998] 2 S.C.R. 193, 80 C.P.R. (3d) 368 (S.C.C.).\n\n[189] _Sanofi-Aventis v. Hospira Healthcare Corp._ , 2009 FC 1077, 78 C.P.R. (4th) 327 at paras. 121-122.\n\n[190] _Ibid._ at para. 131.\n\n[191] _Competition Act_ , R.S.C. 1985, c. C-34, as am., ss. 36, 45.\n\n[192] _Apotex v. Servier_ , _supra_ note 147.\n\n[193] _Ibid._ at para. 130.\n\n[194] _Ibid._ at para. 131.\n\n[195] _Ibid._ at para. 135.\n\n[196] _Ibid._ at paras. 131, 137.\n\n[197] _Sanofi-Aventis Canada Inc. v. Apotex Inc._ , 2009 FC 1138, 2009 CarswellNat 4203 at para. 12.\n\n[198] _Eli Lilly_ , _supra_ note 46 at para. 683, aff'd on other grounds (without comment on this point) 2010 FCA 240, 90 C.P.R. (4th) 327.\n\n[199] _Ibid._ at para. 750.\n\n[200] _Ibid._ at para. 743.\n\n[201] _Ibid._ at paras. 726, 769.\n\n[202] _Ibid._ at paras. 842, 850.\n\n[203] _Ibid._ at para. 881.\n\n[204] _Garford Pty Ltd. v. Dywidag Systems International_ , 2010 FC 996; note that this case is currently under appeal.\n\n[205] _R.L.P. Machine & Steel Fabrication Inc. v. DiTullio_ (2001), 202 F.T.R. 185, 12 C.P.R. (4th) 15 (F.C.T.D.).\n\n[206] See e.g. _Electec Ltd. v. Comstock Canada_ (1989), 26 F.T.R. 154, 24 C.P.R. (3d) 137 (F.C.T.D.).\n\n[207] _Patent Act_ , _supra_ note 11, s. 34.1.\n\n[208] _Ibid._\n\n[209] _Ibid._ , s. 48.1(1).\n\n[210] _Ibid._ , s. 48.1.\n\n[211] _Ibid._ , s. 48.2.\n\n[212] _Ibid._ , s. 48.2(3).\n\n[213] _Ibid._ , s. 48.2(5).\n\n[214] _Ibid._ , s. 48.3.\n\n[215] _Ibid._ , s. 48.4.\n\n[216] _Ibid._ , s. 48.4(3).\n\n[217] _Ibid._ , s. 48.4(5).\n", "meta": {"pile_set_name": "BookCorpus2"}}
{"text": " \n### Secrets and Deception\n\nFor Keeps Series Book One\n\nBy Alexa Kane\nNo part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means – electronic, mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system – without prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form or biding or cover than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.\n\nThis book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.\n\nPublished by Alexa Kane\n\nCopyright 2020 by Alexa Kane\n\nAll Rights Reserved. ©\n\nThis book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.\n\nThe author acknowledges all song titles, song lyrics, film titles, film characters, trademarked statuses, brands, mentioned in this book are the property of, and belong to, their respective owners. The publication / use of these trademarks is not authorized / associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.\nAuthor's Note\n\nBecause of its explicit sexual content, mature themes and bad language, this book is suitable for readers over eighteen years of age.\n\nI hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it.\nContents\n\nTitle Page\n\nCopyright\n\nAuthor's Note\n\nChapter 1 - Eva\n\nChapter 2 - Eva\n\nChapter 3 - Eva\n\nChapter 4 - Eva\n\nChapter 5 - Mason\n\nChapter 6 - Mason\n\nChapter 7 - Eva\n\nChapter 8 - Mason\n\nChapter 9 - Mason\n\nChapter 10 - Eva\n\nChapter 11 - Jason\n\nChapter 12 - Eva\n\nChapter 13 - Jason\n\nChapter 14 - Eva\n\nChapter 15 - Jason\n\nChapter 16 - Eva\n\nChapter 17 - Jason\n\nChapter 18 - Eva\n\nChapter 19 - Jason\n\nChapter 20 - Eva\n\nChapter 21 - Jason\n\nChapter 22 - Eva\n\nChapter 23 - Eva\n\nChapter 24 - Jason\n\nChapter 25 - Eva\n\nChapter 26 - Jason\n\nChapter 27 - Eva\n\nChapter 28 - Jason\n\nChapter 29 - Eva\n\nChapter 30 - Jason\n\nChapter 31 - Eva\n\nChapter 32 - Jason\n\nChapter 33 - Eva\n\nChapter 34 - Jason\n\nChapter 35 - Eva\n\nChapter 36 - Jason\n\nChapter 37 - Eva\n\nChapter 38 - Jason\n\nChapter 39 - Eva\n\nChapter 40 - Jason\n\nChapter 41 - Eva\n\nChapter 42 - Jason\n\nChapter 43 - Eva\n\nChapter 44 - Jason\n\nChapter 45 - Eva\n\nChapter 46 - Jason\n\nChapter 47 - Eva\n\nChapter 48 - Jason\n\nChapter 49 - Eva\n\nChapter 50 - Jason\n\nChapter 51 - Eva\n\nChapter 52 - Mason\n\nChapter 53 - Eva\n\nThank you very much for reading\n\n# Chapter 1\n\n## Eva\n\n\"Evangeline Van Der Woodson.\"\n\nAs soon as my name is called, I walk across the stage to receive my high school diploma. I have officially graduated and after one last care free summer, I will be joining my best friend at the University of Washington.\n\nI can't wait!\n\nI've been looking forward to this moment since Jayden graduated two years ago, life hasn't been the same around here since he left. He promised to come back and visit all the time, but last summer he spent most of his break tripping around Florida and Mexico with his new friends from college.\n\nI asked if I could come and join him on holiday and meet his friends but instead, Jayden came home for three weeks, it was weird, it's like he doesn't want me to meet any of his new friends. He has always been protective of me, especially around other guys, but I'm going to meet his friends sooner or later, he can't keep me hidden away forever.\n\nOnce the formal part's over, I make my way towards my parents and my Uncle Dennis. My mother makes it to me first, she nearly topples me over with the force of her hug, at 5ft 4in we are both the same height and roughly the same size, so she shouldn't be stronger than me, but damn that hurt.\n\nShe is blubbering too much about her baby girl, high school and college to really understand what she is saying. Next to congratulate me is my father, although he is a lot gentler with his hug than my mom, he even manages to form a proper sentence. \"I am so proud of you sweet heart, you are going to do great things, I love you.\"\n\n\"I love you too dad,\" now it's my turn to get tears in my eyes. I love my parents, I know all children love their parents and reckon they have the best parents ever, but mine take the cake.\n\nMy dad is quite a bit taller than my mom at 6ft but she always seems to be tucked away under his arm. Their story is like something out of a fairy tale, high school sweethearts who married straight out of college, the only bump in the road was that I was the only child they were able to conceive. I always wished for a sibling but in a way, Jayden has filled that hole.\n\nMy mom always jokes about the two of us ending up together but that's never going to happen. We love each other, sure, but not like that.\n\nNever like _that_.\n\nUncle Dennis lifts me up in a bear hug, congratulating me. Growing up he has always been around, he is my father's brother and they are incredibly close, they even work together at my father's company. I hope to join them there one day too.\n\nI scream with joy when my eyes land on my best friend, Jayden Bradley. I wasn't sure if he was going to be able to make it today. He lifts me up, spinning me around, making me giggle and scream like a little girl.\n\nHe is gorgeous, tall with clear baby blue eyes and blonde hair that falls close to his ears, he has a nice tan year round which gives him a surfer appeal that girls seem to go crazy for. The fact he has never set foot on a surfboard, doesn't seem to bother them.\n\nSometimes I think it would be easier if we did like each other that way, but then I am reminded of the time we kissed when I was thirteen, we both started gagging and spitting afterwards.\n\nYep. Definitely better to stay friends.\n\n\"Congrats Eva, I'm proud of you,\" he leans down to kiss me on my forehead and that's part of the reason I think everyone is waiting for us to announce ourselves as a couple, we are pretty affectionate with one another but that's just how we are.\n\n\"Thanks Jayden, although I wasn't sure if you would make it or not.\" I don't like to let on how disappointed I am that he is never around anymore, I understand we both need to move on at some point but I miss my friend.\n\n\"Yeah, I was always coming, I just wanted to surprise you.\" His smile gets bigger as he grins at me, \"I'm here for the whole summer.\"\n\n\"What?!\" That is about the best news I have gotten all day. We're going to have the best summer ever.\n\n\"I wanted to spend some time with you, plus my parents have been on my case about spending so much of my breaks with my friends,\" he deadpans.\n\nGlad to know that I'm not the only one missing him.\n\n\"Oh, I see, so I'm a consolation prize,\" I'm trying to be serious when I respond, but he can see straight through me.\n\n\"Yes, a very sexy consolation prize, who is going to take me to all the parties this summer and introduce me to all of her hot friends,\" he's grinning at me cheekily.\n\n\"But you know all of my friends,\" I screw my nose up. He already had sex with one of my friends last summer and I don't need him sleeping with anyone else I know. Yuck.\n\n\"Sure, but I haven't fucked all of your friends yet.\"\n\nHe takes off which is lucky as I was reaching around to smack him. I take off, running after him but don't do very well at catching him, he was always faster than me. Plus, I'm wearing heels. He ends up hiding behind my parents and using them as a barrier.\n\nMy mother just laughs, used to our antics, \"What are you two doing?\"\n\n\"Nothing-\" at the same time Jayden says.\n\n\"Eva was telling me about a graduation party one of her friends is throwing, do you mind if we go?\"\n\nBig fat liar.\n\n\"Of course not, have fun and stay safe, I will see you two later.\"\n\nOne more round of hugs later, all the while glaring at Jayden and we are off to have the best summer of our lives.\n\n### ***\n\nJustin Cooper is dancing behind me, grinding himself against me and I can feel his erection digging into me. We have been sort of dating this last year and I ended up being cliché as hell and gave him my virginity after prom.\n\nA fact that I left out of my weekly conversations with Jayden, he can be super protective over me and doesn't think anyone is good enough to date me, let alone sleep with me.\n\nAll of a sudden, I am ripped away from Justin by an angry looking Jayden, \"What the hell, Eva?\" he looks super angry.\n\nI look behind me to see that Justin has taken off, the coward. \"I was dancing, thought that was obvious,\" my voice is dripping with sarcasm.\n\n\"He's not good enough for you, stay away from him. In fact, stay away from all these fucking assholes. I will help you find a nice geeky college boy that likes to take things nice and _slow_.\" I roll my eyes before storming off in search of a drink.\n\nMaybe these last few years at high school by myself has been a good thing, no one would have dared come near me with Jayden hanging around.\n\nA few hours and no sign of Justin later and I am ready to go home, I search the party for Jayden hoping that he has left my friends alone, I wouldn't put it past him to sleep with one of them, again. I find him outside on the porch, talking on the phone, what I hear intrigues me so I stop and listen.\n\n\"Mason, bro, you know I can't come...my parents want me here for the summer...no! No, don't come here, it's boring here, you would hate it.\" Well that's interesting, he never once mentioned me. I lean against the doorframe with my arms crossed over my chest.\n\nJayden notices me a few seconds later and is quick to get off the phone. \"Um, how long were you standing there?\"\n\n\"Long enough,\" I feel like I should be offended. \"How come you didn't mention me on the phone...and why don't you want your friends to come here?\"\n\nHe seems frustrated and rubs his hands over his face before he responds, \"I didn't mention you because I haven't told anyone about you.\"\n\n\"What the fuck Jayden?!\" I'm instantly on edge, completely furious with this asshole standing right in front of me. I am his best friend in the whole fucking world and he's hiding me?\n\nThat's fucking bullshit.\n\n\"Look, it's not what you think. My friends fuck anything with a pulse and you're well...hot...they're going to try and fuck you.\" I stomp my foot like a child, he is such an idiot.\n\n\"Seriously? What the fuck is wrong with you? I'm going to meet them after the summer anyway when I start college, have you thought about that?\" He pales, dumb shit obviously didn't think this through.\n\n\"Fuck, you're right,\" he scratches his head, thinking. \"Maybe you could buy some new clothes, cover up a bit more?\" This is ridiculous. I'm going home and he can do whatever he wants.\n\nThis is the exact reason that I didn't tell him about Justin, if I did, he would have beat his ass tonight. He has to realize that I'm going to have sex with people and he needs to drop the protective big brother act, it's starting to piss me off.\n\n# Chapter 2\n\n## Eva\n\nIt's halfway through the summer and even though Jayden had to spend it here with me and his family, instead of his friends, we have been having a great time. Our days are spent either lounging by the pool or travelling down to spend the day at the beach. Most nights we have been going out partying but some nights, like tonight, we don't feel like doing anything.\n\nJayden and I are on the couch in the lounge watching a movie, well trying to watch a movie. Jayden keeps fidgeting and playing on his phone.\n\nMy parents are out for the night at yet another fundraiser...they do love their fundraisers. They always say that they are an integral part of being a business owner and that we should always help people less fortunate than ourselves.\n\nI completely agree with that sentiment and normally I attend a lot of events with them, I actually should have gone with them tonight but I wanted to stay home with Jayden and order a pizza instead. I feel pretty guilty about not going and after getting yet another elbow in my side I'm regretting my choice to stay home even more.\n\n\"What are you doing? You know if you are texting a girl you can just tell me, right?\" He has been in a really strange mood tonight.\n\n\"I'm not texting a girl,\" he says all pissy. I really should have gone tonight, I want to spend time with my parents before I move away, I'm really going to miss them even though I will only be a short flight away.\n\n\"Then what are you doing?\" I ask.\n\nHe sighs before answering me, \"Just texting a mate.\" Jayden starts to get agitated and moves around a bit more.\n\n\"Why does texting a mate make you so restless?\" He looks very uncomfortable for just texting a mate.\n\n\"He wants to come for a visit,\" he doesn't make eye contact with me while he talks. I have told him a million times this summer that his friends were welcome here and that I wouldn't sleep with any of them.\n\n\"So, what's the big deal?\" he gives me an odd look out of the corner of his eye.\n\n\"Um, I don't think you will like him,\" he says. Let me guess, because he has a penis and is attractive.\n\n\"Why not?\" I ask, trying hard to sound as annoyed as I feel.\n\nHe continues to stare down at his phone and avoids looking in my eyes while he talks. \"Just his father is...um, his dad runs...well...your families don't exactly...\"\n\nI roll my eyes, \"This is about business? Seriously?\"\n\n\"Well yeah, with your parents being...I just thought that...you would be mad if...\" I haven't seen Jayden stumble over his words so much since he asked Missy Andrews to Prom.\n\n\"Jayden, if you are friends with this guy then I will like him, I don't care who his parents are.\" I desperately want Jayden to let me into his new world, I would hate to get to college and have him ignore me or shut me out.\n\n\"Okay, good...I should have known...\" he sits up straighter and this time looks at me as he starts to explain, \"You see when I first found out who he was I didn't like him. I even got into a fight with him at a frat party, but then he just kept popping up in my classes and was hanging out with other guys I was friends with.\" He keeps fidgeting with his phone like he is nervous and I'm starting to wonder where this story is going. \"After a while I realized he was a cool guy and before you know it, I was friends with him, but I never talked about you and well I never told you I was friends with him.\"\n\n\"Okay...this is getting weird, are you dating this guy or something,\" that was the wrong thing to say.\n\n\"What? What the fuck Eva? You know I like chicks,\" he states harshly. He is so easy to wind up, now he is even more agitated than before.\n\n\"I'm just saying, this story kinda seems like it's going down that track.\" He runs his hands through his hair, clearly frustrated and I smile, enjoying his discomfort.\n\n\"Fuck...okay...I will cut to the chase; his name is Mason Ha-\" the doorbell rings and cuts off what he was about to say. I make my way over and before I even get there, it rings again.\n\n\"I'm coming!\" It rings a third time just as I open the door and I come face to face with two male police officers. The younger one seems like a rookie; he is fiddling with his hat that he is holding in his hands and his eyes are darting around nervously. The older police officer just looks at me with a sad expression on his face, like he has made these kinds of house calls hundreds of times, \"Can I help you?\"\n\n\"Are you Miss Evangeline Van Der Woodson?\" he asks. I wrack my brain trying to think of everything I have done so far this summer, trying to come up with some reason they could be here.\n\n\"Yes, what's going on?\" I really hope they aren't here to arrest me for underage drinking or something.\n\n\"I'm Sergeant Walker and this is Officer Frank, I'm afraid we have some bad news,\" he looks at me with pity in his eyes.\n\n\"Eva, is that the pizz-\" Jayden cuts off what he was about to say as he comes up behind me and realizes there are police officers at the door. He must sense something bad is about to happen as he doesn't say anything else, he just holds my hand in his and squeezes tightly.\n\nThe Sergeant clears his throat, \"As I was saying, I'm afraid we have some bad news.\"\n\n\"What is it?\" my voice starts to tremble and Jayden takes his hand out of mine to put it around my shoulders.\n\n\"Your parents, Gregory and Jillian Van Der Woodson. Well, I'm sorry to say they have been involved in a car accident tonight.\" What? No. \"I'm sorry, but they didn't make it.\"\n\nNo.\n\nNO.\n\n\"What do you mean? What are you talking about?\" My voice is hysterical, I can feel Jayden's grip around me getting stronger but I can't hear anything he is saying. All I can focus on is the police officer and even then, I only make out a few words.\n\n\"A truck ran a red light-\"\n\n\"Collision-\"\n\n\"Your parents-\"\n\n\"Died on impact-\"\n\n\"I'm sorry-\"\n\nI'm sorry.\n\nThose words are the only ones that register before my world goes black.\n\n# Chapter 3\n\n## Eva\n\nThe last six weeks have been a blur between the hospital, the funeral, the...fuck. The funeral...I still can't believe they are both gone.\n\nGone.\n\nHow is that even possible? They kissed me goodbye before they left, said they would see me later that night. I told my mother how beautiful she looked.\n\nI was supposed to go with them.\n\nI was supposed to be in the car with them.\n\nI should have been there too.\n\nIn some ways, I wish I was.\n\nI am so sick of fucking well-wishers; they can shove their thoughts and prayers up their ass. It doesn't do fucking shit. And the baked goods. The fucking baked goods. If one more person drops off damn muffins, I am going to shove them down their throat.\n\nOne of the hardest things to deal with are the flowers, sure they look lovely when they are first dropped off. But now they have all wilted and died, I feel like they are a representation of my life at the moment. I can feel myself wilting, weighed down by the pressures of life and I'm just waiting to die.\n\nJayden left a few days ago to go back to Seattle, he didn't want to but I knew he had to get ready for classes so I assured him I was fine and forced him on a plane.\n\nAlthough, I'm not fine.\n\nIn fact, I'm far from it.\n\nI have been staying with Jayden and his parents but since he left, I have spent the last few nights with my uncle. He has been great but he looks too much like my father, it's hard to look him in eye.\n\nI'm currently packing for college, fucking college, that's the last thing I want to do but I'm going through the motions just like I should. Just like everyone expects of me.\n\nI meet my uncle downstairs by the front door, he takes in my two suitcases and backpack before asking if I want to take anything else. \"No, I just want to leave,\" being here is hard, everywhere I look something reminds me of my parents.\n\nIt's like I can't find a minute's peace from my suffering.\n\nThe drive to the airport is a silent one. I tell my uncle I would prefer to go in by myself, I can tell he disagrees with my choice but he wisely stays silent and pulls into the drop off bay.\n\nI only shed a single tear as my uncle tells me how much he loves me and that I will always have a home with him. I've cried enough over the last six weeks and I'm fucking sick of it.\n\nI'm sick of everything.\n\nI barely remember waiting in line or walking up to the check in desk, I seem to do everything on auto pilot these days.\n\nI hand over my ticket and ID and after a minute realize she has been speaking to me, \"Sorry?\"\n\n\"I said, checking in for a flight to Seattle?\" she asks. She seems friendly enough but she annoys me, everyone has been annoying me lately.\n\nI have this distinct urge to punch everyone in their happy faces.\n\n\"Ye-\" for some reason the words get stuck in my throat. I couldn't do it. I couldn't go to Seattle. I wasn't ready, \"What's the next flight that's leaving?\"\n\n\"You mean to Seattle?\" she asks. The attendant is now looking at me like I'm not all there and to be honest, I feel kind of crazy right now.\n\n\"No, I mean in general, to anywhere.\" She seems taken aback by my question and pauses before she starts typing away on her keyboard.\n\n\"The next flight is leaving in 40 minutes,\" she says and I decide to leave my life up to fate.\n\n\"Where to?\" I will hop on this plane no matter where it takes me and I will start a new life there, away from regret, pain and people who remind me of my old life, of my parents.\n\n\"Mexico City,\" she frowns as she answers but I grin.\n\n\"Perfect,\" I feel like I can breathe for the first time in six weeks, \"I'll take it.\"\n\n# Chapter 4\n\n## Eva\n\nSeven Years Later...\n\n\"Eva.\"\n\n\"Hmmm,\" I look up, realizing that I drifted off...again.\n\nFraser laughs at me, \"You're tuning out again, am I that boring?\"\n\n\"What, no, I just...never mind, what were you saying?\" I need to pay more attention, this is important.\n\n\"I was saying...that we need to get a roster organized so we can start sorting out the volunteers, I have heaps of applications coming in.\" I roll my eyes, this is his job, not mine.\n\n\"So, what does that have to do with me? You're the one that's in charge of the volunteers.\" Fraser shakes his head at me. \"What?\" I ask. I don't want him to be upset with me but I don't want to talk about why I keep drifting off either.\n\nIt's been seven years since I lost my parents and it still fucking hurts. Every time we start a new project, I get emotional, wondering whether they would approve of what I was doing with my life. If they would be proud of me.\n\n\"You know what,\" he says and I do know what, that's the problem. I just can't be bothered with the new volunteers, give them to me after they have been through orientation and have been around a few days but straight off the bat, I just don't have any patience for them. \"You can...Eva, your project lead, I'm just trying to involve you.\"\n\n\"I know you are and it's sweet, but what have I been telling you for the last two years?\" Sometimes I really regret taking that promotion, it was a lot easier being a yes man, or yes woman, in my case.\n\n\"That you don't give a shit who comes or how they get here as long as there are people to help us work,\" he replies in a monotone voice.\n\n\"Exactly...so I'll leave you to it then,\" with that sorted, I jump up and head back to my office.\n\nOur base is in Cape Town, but we currently head up projects all over Africa. We both work for The Housing Project, it's a not for profit charity created and run by The Lancaster Foundation. Susan, or Suzie as my mother called her, Lancaster was my mother's best friend. Her grandfather, Alistair Lancaster created The Lancaster Foundation to help struggling families in America right after he started his own family. Over the years, different family members have started their own side projects, depending on what their passion is.\n\nThe Housing Project is Suzie's baby, the first project she ever did was build a school down in Mexico. My mother went down to help out and was a strong supporter of the charity over her life. Suzie currently has bases all around the world working on projects of various scale.\n\nThe project I have been put in charge of this time is huge, it's a little daunting but I can handle it, I think. Luckily, I have Fraser by my side for the whole thing.\n\nFraser has been my right-hand man for the last two years but we have known each other for almost seven years. I met him down in Mexico, not long after my parents passed away. I flew down to Mexico City six weeks after they died on a whim.\n\nJayden wasn't very impressed that I hadn't shown up in Seattle, neither was my uncle but at least he had the decency to tell me to be smart, be safe and to come home when I was ready. Jayden demanded – not so politely – to know where I was. When I wouldn't tell him, he drove down to the Seattle-Tacoma International Airport.\n\nI was lucky enough to be on the phone to him while he was demanding that they give him a ticket to where ever Evangeline Van Der Woodson was and it shouldn't be that hard to track someone down. He was very close to getting arrested and my uncle had to pull a few favors to get him out of that one.\n\nI had been in Mexico for around a week, just wandering around aimlessly, trying and failing to be a normal tourist. I had stopped at Eduardo's Place yet again for lunch, it was a good place to eat and being right next to where I stayed, made it handy when I wanted to get a drink at night.\n\nEduardo, the owner was an older guy with greying hair and a big belly but had a kind smile. I remember him asking me if I was lost, and not in the sense of being lost without a map, I had no idea how to respond to him, so he asked me if I wanted a job.\n\nI had never had a real job before, my family was extremely well off and there had never been any reason for me to work while growing up and my parents wanted me to focus on school. Now, however, I welcomed the distraction.\n\nFraser was the bartender at the time and ended up showing me the ropes, he seemed lost himself and we instantly became friends. He was nearing the end of his gap year and still hadn't made his mind up about what to do next, we worked there together for three months and it was exactly what I needed.\n\nI still kept in contact with Uncle Dennis, Jayden – although he was still pestering me about where I was – and a few other friends. However, I had been avoiding phone calls from Douglas Harrington ever since I left the States.\n\nFucking Douglas Harrington.\n\nHe came to my parent's funeral and as soon as he came over to speak to me, my uncle was just as quick to tell him to fuck off. I had never seen my uncle lose it that quickly at someone and he never did give me the full story, just told me to stay as far away from him as I could and to never ever sell any part of the company to him, no matter how small. It was a strange request but I trusted my uncle so I gave him my word.\n\nThe next day I got an offer from Douglas about buying my parents company from me. You see, I was the sole heir to their empire and that meant that everyone now wanted a piece of me.\n\nThat was part of the reason I took off to Mexico, Uncle Dennis knew I was getting offers from people but didn't know to what extent. They were like vultures. The only person who persisted though was good old Douglas Harrington.\n\nAfter working at Eduardo's Place for three months that fucker just showed up one day with a contract. Told me he would give me a fair price and that I wouldn't have to work a single day for the rest of my life.\n\nHe wouldn't tell me how he tracked me down and that pissed me off, even Jayden couldn't find me. He was persistent and when he told me it would have been what my mother wanted for me, I tossed a drink in his face and told him to get fucked.\n\nI have never seen someone so livid in all my life. His face went bright red and his eyebrow did this weird twitchy thing. I hate to admit it but he scared me, I knew there were some bad people in my father's industry and I had a feeling this man was one of them.\n\nAfter that incident, I rang my uncle, told him where I was and asked him to come see me.\n\nI signed over the company to him, just like that. He still left me as the actual owner of everything but he became the acting CEO, which meant that all decisions would be made through him and hopefully I would be left the hell alone. I was still weary of Douglas, so to be on the safe side I started going by Eva Donahue, which was my mother's maiden name. I figured he wouldn't be able to track me down if Evangeline Van Der Woodson no longer existed.\n\nIt also gave me a sense of being someone new, someone different and that was exactly what I needed.\n\nI needed a new life, a new identity, a chance to start over.\n\nThe day my uncle left, he told me that Suzie was running a new project down in Chiapas through The Housing Project and if I wanted, he could get me a volunteer spot.\n\nI asked for two.\n\nFraser and I have been with The Lancaster Foundation ever since. We worked in Central and South America for a long time before moving to Africa. We were a part of various projects for The Foundation but The Housing Project was where my heart belonged, just like Suzie, just like my mom.\n\nI couldn't see myself doing anything else.\n\n# Chapter 5\n\n## Mason\n\nMy feet pound the pavement as I push myself to run faster. My thoughts keep going back to my conversation with my father first thing this morning. I always knew he was an asshole but this, this takes the cake.\n\nHe wants me to marry Aletta, fucking Aletta Allerton.\n\nWhat kind of a name is that any way?\n\nHer father is Edward Allerton, he and my father have been business associates for years and now they want to combine their empire. Combine their empire and leave everything to one heir.\n\nMy child. Fuck, our child.\n\nThere is no way I want to even stick my dick in Aletta, let alone have a fucking child with her.\n\nFuck my life.\n\nThis is the worst thing he has ever asked me to do.\n\nThe first time I met Aletta was a few years into college on one of my breaks, I had come home at my father's request and I quickly figured out the reason behind that request, or should I say demand. My father doesn't ask for anything.\n\nAletta Allerton.\n\nMy first impression of her was that she was nice enough, long blonde hair, blue eyes, make up done to perfection although a little heavy, nice tits and a perky ass. I thought she was like me, along for the ride because of our fathers. But the moment we were first left alone, she dropped to her knees and started sucking my dick. She knew what she was doing too, like a fucking vacuum.\n\nI soon learnt that she was one of her father's business tools, fucking the competition into submission. The thought made me sick. I could tell my father wanted us to be together even then but he seemed to let it go after I told him I wasn't into her, or so I thought.\n\nSeven years later and he wants me to fucking marry that bitch.\n\nOver the years she has sucked my dick countless times, always trying to get to me like she does with everyone else. Although I'm not like everyone else, I refuse to stick my dick inside her.\n\nShe has tried countless times and it's getting annoying, coming to work and having her sprawled out on my desk naked with her legs spread wide open doesn't turn me on, it just pisses me the fuck off...and gives my poor assistant nightmares. She now waits for me to check my office and give the all clear before she will set foot inside, poor Alice.\n\nBefore I know it, I have run ten miles and I still don't feel any better. I realize I'm close to the Seattle Waterfront so I turn and make my way towards The Waterfront Bar & Grill, the place is owned by one of my good friends, Jayden. I know he will be there as he is always there, aside from the fact that he lives upstairs he spends most of his time down in the restaurant and right now I could use a friend...and maybe a drink.\n\nI walk through the front door, ignoring the closed sign and see Jayden sitting at one of the tables along with his best friend Alex and my best friend Kyle.\n\nThose fuckers are having breakfast and they didn't invite me? \"Where was my invite? I could use some breakfast,\" and at this stage I would probably take a bullet too.\n\nJayden looks up and rolls his eyes, \"I didn't invite these two idiots either but here they are.\"\n\nKyle tries to speak but I can't understand a word he is saying with his mouth full of bacon.\n\nWe have been best friends since high school, inseparable really, more like brothers. I'm an only child but Kyle has a younger sister Sophie and a younger brother Ethan. I loved going over to their place as a kid, it wasn't a cold museum like my house, it was alive with noise and chaos and I loved it. I spent more time with his family than I did with my own.\n\nAfter graduation, I knew I was going to the University of Washington, it wasn't really a choice for me, my father went there so I had to go there too. But for Kyle, he had a choice and I thank my lucky stars every day that he chose to stick by me and attend there as well.\n\nIt ended up being a good plan, as we would often go home to his parent's place for dinner and conveniently get our washing done at the same time. We're similar in height and appearance, both having dark hair and dark eyes so we often get mistaken for brothers and I wish I was a part of his family for real. The main difference between us is that he is of a much skinnier build than I am, a fact that I like to remind him about on a regular basis, \"Trying to bulk up Kyle?\"\n\n\"Fuck you Mason,\" he barely looks up, still shoving his breakfast into his mouth.\n\nJayden apologizes to the waitress who is busy trying to set up for the morning and asks her to bring out another plate of food.\n\nJust then the door opens again, \"Uh, better make that two, thanks Beth.\" She looks annoyed until she sees who has walked through the door.\n\n\"Well, if it isn't Cage Matthews, superstar extraordinaire.\" Alex always enjoys hassling Cage. Straight after College, he was drafted into the NFL and was lucky enough to be able to stay in Seattle, since then he has become the teams star quarterback.\n\n\"You know it! Now, where's my free breakfast,\" his statement is accompanied with his trademark smirk. Cage has a shaved head and is covered in tatts but that just adds to his appeal, or so says all the chicks that are always hanging all over him. Fucker doesn't touch any of them though, apparently desperate isn't his thing and he has standards. Whatever.\n\n\"Where's your usual entourage?\" Alex is still at it. Jayden and Alex were roommates their freshman year, I had a few classes with Alex and that's how I met Jayden, I don't know why he hated me when we first met but he did. It took a while for him to come around but I'm glad he did, otherwise I wouldn't have such great friendships with both Alex and himself.\n\n\"They're all still asleep, wore them out last night,\" Cage says. There is no way that statement is true and we all know it; he is a picky bastard.\n\nI tune out to the conversation going around me when our food gets dropped off, I say thank you to the waitress then just sit and eat, ignoring the others. I'm not really in the mood for their shit today.\n\nKyle must sense my mood because he is the first to comment on it, although I don't hear it so that earns me a shove.\n\n\"Dude, what the fuck?\" he just made me spill my scrambled eggs all over the damn place.\n\n\"I said...what's with you today, not getting enough pussy?\" Try the wrong fucking pussy.\n\n\"It's not the lack of pussy,\" fuck, I even sound depressed.\n\n\"Then what is it?\" Jayden asks. I look up at him after he speaks, then I look around at all my other friends and think fuck it, they will all find out eventually.\n\n\"My dad is trying to force me to marry Aletta,\" I sit back and watch as the shit storm unfolds.\n\n\"WHAT?!\"\n\n\"Seriously?\"\n\n\"Dude, that's fucked up.\"\n\n\"Why? She's a fucking crazy bitch.\"\n\nAll the guys start talking at once and it makes me thankful I have them in my life. I had a similar reaction when my dad laid it on me but he thought I was overreacting.\n\n# Chapter 6\n\n## Mason\n\nAfter leaving the guys mind blown down at the restaurant, I still feel edgy so I hit the gym for a few hours then get supplies for tonight. The guys decided that we needed a boy's night, or just that I needed one.\n\nThey want to come up with a plan that gets me out of marrying Aletta and still keeps my father happy, I know there isn't a plan in the world that will get me out of this one but I like their enthusiasm.\n\nThat man has been controlling my every move my entire life and is always ten steps ahead of everyone else. He doesn't do anything that isn't well thought out and part of some bigger scheme.\n\nAs I'm shopping, my mind drifts back to our very one-sided conversation this morning.\n\n\" _You summoned me,\" it's not wise to be a smartass to my father but I can't help it, he's an asshole._\n\n\" _Sit down.\" He eye balls me from above his paper to make sure I sit down then he continues to read, making me wait, and wait, and wait._\n\nI have been down this road many times before and I know if I get impatient and speak, he will make me stay there longer, so I wait. Eventually he folds his paper and places it down on his desk before looking me square in the eyes.\n\n\" _You will marry Aletta Allerton.\" His face is completely serious but this has to be some kind of a joke._\n\n\" _Come again?\" The fuck is this shit?_\n\n\" _You will marry Aletta Allerton,\" his face starts to turn red, a sure sign he is getting angry._\n\n\" _The fuck?\" shit, that was the wrong thing to say. My father has earned a reputation for being a ruthless businessman, acquiring new companies under questionable circumstances and often forceful means._\n\nHe has gotten less intimidating the older I have gotten, at fifty-eight his hair is more silver than black and his face has aged dramatically with the pressures of a high stress job but he's still a well-built man.\n\nFortunately for me, I'm bigger.\n\nI grew out of receiving beatings when I turned fourteen, I had a growth spurt and finally gained the courage to hit back.\n\nMy father stood there looking down at me before he smiled, and with his teeth covered in blood he said, 'congratulations, you're a man now, took you long enough.' That was the last day I received a beating for something I did wrong but that sure as hell wasn't the last time he tried to control my life.\n\nFrom what college I attended, to the girls he wanted me to date, to my position in his ever-growing empire, he had my whole life mapped out and he didn't give a fuck what I wanted.\n\nShit, but marrying Aletta? That was next level crazy.\n\n\" _I mean, why would you want me to marry Aletta?\" Play it cool, just play it cool, do not lose your temper._\n\n\" _I want to acquire her father's holdings and the only way I can do that is with a merger and the only way a merger will happen, is if you marry his daughter.\" That doesn't seem like a good enough reason to me._\n\n\" _But why me?\" Shit, my father doesn't like to waste words and I pretty much just asked him to repeat himself, but really? Aletta?_\n\nThe look he gives me says it all so I try again, \"What I mean to say is, why Aletta? She has a pretty solid reputation as a slut and all the other girls you have pushed me towards over the years give off a certain wholesome vibe. I thought you wanted me to marry someone more like mom?\" and what I mean by that, is a push over that can be controlled and manipulated but is a brilliant actor in public.\n\nHe clears his throat, \"I am well aware of Aletta's reputation.\" Yeah, he has most likely fucked her, gross, he expects me to marry his leftovers? \"Edward seems to think that Aletta's tarnished reputation can be salvaged if she marries the right person, settles down...has a family.\" WHAT?! I can't have heard that right, surely not.\n\n\" _What do you mean by family?\" I'm starting to sweat; I wipe my forehead and try to stop my knee from bouncing up and down and drawing attention._\n\n\" _A family means a child, surely even you cannot be that dense. Edward thinks having an heir, a male heir I might add, will mean that he gets a piece of my empire, the fool.\" Of course, he has to be one step ahead of the game at every turn. There is always some bigger, master plan behind all of his actions._\n\nA child.\n\nA baby.\n\nWith Aletta?\n\nFuck. That. Shit.\n\nPlay it cool, one issue at a time. I can't have a baby with her if I don't marry her in the first place.\n\n\" _No.\" I barely even manage to keep my cool uttering that one tiny word. My voice is starting to shake. I can't show weakness in front of this man._\n\n\" _You will do as I say,\" my father practically growls the words out._\n\n\" _Fuck no, I am not marrying that bitch.\" If looks could kill, I would be a bloody mess on the floor right now, my father is far past irate, his face is turning red and his left eye is twitching, that was always a tell-tale sign when I was younger that I was about to get my ass kicked. But I'm not backing down on this._\n\n\" _You WILL marry ALETTA!\" Great, now he's shouting, he has to be pretty worked up to lose his cool._\n\n\" _What about Stephanie Chancellor? Maggie Greenwich? You were on my case about dating either one of them just last year.\" I would take anyone over Aletta, she makes my skin crawl._\n\n\" _No, it has to be Aletta.\" What the fuck is he up to here?_\n\n\" _Isn't there someone else? Anyone else?\" I'm grasping at straws here, I don't want to marry someone at all but if I have to, anyone is better than Aletta fucking Allerton. I figured he would never let me marry for love but this is bullshit._\n\n\" _Unless you can track down Evangeline Van Der Woodson, then no, there is no one else.\" I perk up, thinking this might be my way out._\n\n\" _Who?\" my father looks at me like I'm an idiot._\n\n\" _Gregory Van Der Woodson's daughter,\" he states. Fuck, that's not an option._\n\n\" _Oh,\" there is no way I would bring her into this, I've never met her but she disappeared off the face of the earth seven years ago after her parents were killed in a car accident._\n\nMy father has always had a weird hatred for Gregory and his wife Jillian, he went to their fucking funeral just to try and purchase their company off their only heir, an 18-year-old girl.\n\nI can only imagine how that went down, poor fucking girl.\n\n\" _For the last time, you will marry Aletta, do not make me repeat myself...again.\" This is not happening._\n\n\" _And if I don't?\" what can be worse than marrying Aletta?_\n\nThat seems to calm him down a bit, then he smirks, uh oh. \"If you chose not to marry Aletta, then you will be fired from the company, you will be cut off and I will remove your rights to both your trust funds.\"\n\n\" _What the fuck! You can't do that to me, that trust was set up for me by MY grandfather, you have nothing to do with that.\" That money isn't even from his side of the family. It's obvious that I would lose my right to the trust he set up for me but he has no right to fuck with the trust that my grandfather set up for me. I need that money._\n\nI can't live without that money.\n\n\" _I know I don't, but your mother does,\" fuck, he has this all planned out._\n\n\" _Fine, go ahead and fire me, cut me off, I don't give a fuck, anything is better than marrying Aletta, I won't do it.\" No fucking way._\n\n\" _What do you think you will do after you are fired from the company?\" he asks. Fucking anything, I don't really care._\n\n\" _Get another job, what the fuck do you think I'm going to do?\"Tthere are tons of places in the city that would hire me on the spot._\n\n\" _I'm not sure who you expect will hire you, after all you have been stealing money from the company for years and your spending habits while on company time have been very questionable.\" His halfcocked grin is pure malice._\n\nAgain, the fuck? \"Are you blackmailing me?\" I'm part shaking mad and part freaked the fuck out about what will come out of his mouth next, I need to get out of here.\n\n\" _Of course, not son.\" That evil look is back in his eyes, he thinks he's won, well, he's wrong._\n\n\" _Fuck you, I'm still not doing it.\" I stand to leave and when he doesn't say anything further, I make my way to the door._\n\n\" _Do not forget son, that your apartment, your vehicle, your shares, everything, is tied up in your trust.\" Fuck me. I freeze. My blood feels like it has been turned to ice and I swear every hair on my body is standing on its end. I'm glad my back is to him as I think I'm going to be sick. I can feel the color draining from my face. I feel numb._\n\nFuck. Is he serious?\n\n\" _I will have your final answer tomorrow, you are dismissed.\"_\n\nI don't remember walking to my car.\n\nI don't remember driving home.\n\nAll I do know, is that I'm fucked.\n\n# Chapter 7\n\n## Eva\n\nThis newest project Fraser and I are working on will be based in Eswatini, also known as Swaziland. Neither of us have ever been but I have heard it will be a lot safer than the places we are used to going, which will be a nice change of pace.\n\nWe will be going to a small rural village that is about a two-hour drive outside of Simunye. Simunye itself is actually doing quite well because of the local sugar mill. As a result, more and more people are trying to find work within the sugar industry. This particular village has grown due to new sugar cane fields being planted; however, the village people are living in shacks and the closest school is about half a day's walk away. Water quality is poor and disease is becoming rampant.\n\nThe idea is to build a school, small health clinic, a church, local gathering hall which will also act as temporary accommodation for our volunteers and about fifty small houses. A few of those houses will be used by a small number of staff during the build and then hopefully will be used by teachers and visiting doctors in the future.\n\nFraser and I have separate offices in Cape Town but one of us normally gravitates towards the others office as we work better together.\n\n\"How are you getting on with Jabu?\" Jabulani or Jabu as he prefers to be called is our go to person in Simunye, he is helping to coordinate everything on the ground before we get there. He has decided to help with a lot of the build and will act as a translator.\n\nThe hall needs to be completed before the first lot of volunteers arrive and our accommodation also needs to be finished so we have somewhere to stay. We will probably be commuting from Simunye for the first few days, maybe a week until everything is ready.\n\nThere is so much to do and organize, I'm feeling a lot of pressure with this one, this is the biggest project that myself and The Housing Project have undertaken. Saying I feel overwhelmed is an understatement.\n\n\"Good, he confirmed that the first lot of containers and trucks arrived with the building supplies for the hall and the staff accommodation. Luckily, there are some people in the village who are keen to help out, a few even have building experience which is a plus. They should be able to start construction next week, Neil and Patrick are going to travel out early to make sure everything runs smoothly,\" he is concentrating on his paperwork as he speaks.\n\n\"Good, sounds like you have everything under control,\" I need this to go well, I'm feeling a lot of pressure with how big this job is. Failing isn't really an option, I have a lot of people counting of me.\n\n\"Yeah, for now at least.\" He gives me the side eye, prick, he knows I'm stressed out over this.\n\n\"Have all the volunteer spots filled up?\" Volunteers are crucial to this project and we need all the help we can get.\n\n\"There are a few spots still available towards the end of the project but I'm expecting those to fill up.\" That's not too bad, it's a long project so at least we have time.\n\n\"Good,\" he looks nervous all of a sudden. Fraser never looks nervous, \"What is it?\"\n\n\"Oh, um,\" he clears this throat. \"Maria is helping out on this project.\"\n\n\"Yes, I know, I hired her.\" I tried to hold back my smile but fail miserably. Fraser has had a crush on Maria since he met her a few years ago. She was a volunteer for the very first project we ran together in Africa.\n\n\"Right,\" he won't look me in the eye. What is he up to? \"So, there will be five staff and three separate staff houses that sleep two each.\" Oh, I see. He wants to room with Maria. This should be fun.\n\n\"Correct,\" I lean back in my chair, assuming a position of authority.\n\n\"Patrick and Neil will be rooming together I presume?\" That's an easy presumption seeing as they are a couple.\n\n\"Of course,\" I nod, confirming what we both already know.\n\n\"So, um...what are the other rooming arrangements?\" he starts fidgeting with his pen.\n\n\"Well, you will get a room and Maria and I will get a room. I thought that was kind of obvious,\" it's hard not to laugh at him. Poor guy has it bad.\n\n\"So, you and Maria will share a room?\" He is way too disappointed than he should be and I start to feel bad, but messing with him is kind of fun.\n\n\"Not necessarily,\" his head snaps up, his expression is hopeful but distrusting.\n\n\"But you said you and Maria will get a room,\" normally he is quick to pick up on my word games.\n\n\"I did,\" he is so confused and it's hilarious.\n\n\"Doesn't that mean you will get a room together?\" Poor Fraser, maybe I should stop messing with him.\n\n\"The rooms don't contain bunk beds, no one will be sharing a room,\" I state. I can't help it, a small chuckle breaks through my cool façade.\n\n\"Fuck you Eva, you know what I mean,\" he is pouting now.\n\n\"Yes, I do, but I want you to ask for it.\" I smirk, maybe I can mess with him for a little while longer.\n\n\"You want me to say I want to share a place with Maria?\" his face is stern, his lips pressed together tightly.\n\n\"Yes,\" I say. He huffs twice and I grin.\n\n\"Fine, may I pretty please share a place with Maria so that I get the chance to bang her,\" his smile is devilish.\n\n\"Ewww,\" fucking Fraser, he can be so crude sometimes.\n\n\"What? You were the one who wanted me to say it!\" Now it's his turn to laugh at me. The idiot.\n\n\"Yes, you can share a place or room with Maria, you know I prefer to be on my own anyway. I just have one condition,\" I wasn't finished messing with him just yet.\n\n\"Name it,\" he is so serious. He must like Maria more than I thought.\n\n\"I get to be maid of honor at your wedding,\" he pales.\n\n\"Har fucking har,\" he stands up, ready to leave, \"Good one Eva.\"\n\n\"I thought so...so do we have a deal?\" My smile is huge, I love fucking with him.\n\nOn his way out I hear him mutter, \"Yeah, we have a fucking deal.\"\n\n# Chapter 8\n\n## Mason\n\nThe guys are due over in an hour and I can't sit still, I keep replaying the conversation with my father over and over again in my head, I need a distraction.\n\nI grab my laptop and start looking at YouTube videos but not really paying attention to anything. As my mind wanders, I bring up Google. My fingers start typing in Evangeline Van Der Woodson before my mind catches up. Fuck. I slam my laptop shut.\n\nI'm not that desperate. Am I?\n\nLuckily, I'm saved from my thoughts by a knock on the door, I live in one of those luxury apartment buildings in Downtown Seattle. The place is far too big for just me but I live on the top floor and have incredible views over Seattle and the Puget Sound. I love my view of the Olympic Mountains, it's one of the main reasons I got this apartment in particular. I brought this place fully furnished straight out of college; I couldn't wait to start living on my own.\n\nI loved living with Kyle but the guys a slob and as my father pointed out this morning, I was just dumb enough to go with his advice and tie all my assets up with my trust. Tax benefits my ass, I should have known better and if I wasn't in such a hurry to start living my life, I probably would have figured it out.\n\nHe obviously had plans even back then to use this place against me, I wouldn't mind leaving this place so much as I would miss the lifestyle. I have never known anything else and my father made damn sure I was used to living a luxurious lifestyle.\n\nHow would I get on with having nothing? Where would I go? What would I do for a job? Who would even hire me if my father actually went through with his threats?\n\n\"Open the fucking door Mason!\" Kyle hasn't even knocked yet and is already bitching at me.\n\n\"Yeah, yeah, keep your panties on,\" I can always count on Kyle and the boys for a good laugh when I'm feeling like shit. That's what I'm hoping for tonight, good beers, good laughs and hopefully a good fuck.\n\nThree hours, half a dozen beers and who knows how many shots later, we are sitting at a VIP table in, fuck, I don't even know where we are. All I do know, is that I have a good buzz going and there is a lot of smoking hot pussy in here to choose from tonight.\n\n\"I know, I know!\" Kyle starts yelling to be heard over the music.\n\n\"You don't know shit, shut the fuck up!\" I'm not even sure who said that but I have to agree.\n\n\"Nah, nah superstar I have the perfect idea.\" Cage rolls his eyes; he hates being called superstar.\n\n\"Alright, let's hear it!\" Jayden is about the drunkest one here and loves to pump Kyle up when he gets a hair brained idea.\n\n\"Mason can go on a vacation,\" Kyle is grinning like he is a fucking genius.\n\n\"A vacation?\" What the actual fuck? \"Kyle, how the fuck is a vacation going to help me?\"\n\n\"It will give you time to get another idea,\" and here I thought the guy actually had a brain.\n\n\"Brilliant man, fucking brilliant,\" I reply while slow clapping. He beams, like my answer wasn't totally sarcastic.\n\n\"Hang on, he might have an idea.\" Alex is normally the smartest one of the bunch. I think he's had one too many shots.\n\n\"Seriously?\" I ask, he can't actually agree with Kyle.\n\n\"Yeah man, totally serious,\" he leans forward getting wrapped up in this stupid as fuck idea. \"But not a vacation as such, like a, like an extended spring break.\"\n\n\"Spring break, are you high?\" How is that a better idea than a vacation? Or any different?\n\n\"Nah, nah...I'm not getting this out right,\" no shit. \"You know at spring break, like you get a week to party, fuck chicks, basically make a fool out of yourself for a week and nobody cares.\" Where the fuck is this going? \"Then after it's over you go back to being serious about school.\"\n\n\"YESSSS!\" Fucking Kyle.\n\n\"Yeah, man you get it!\" Alex is beaming.\n\n\"Fuck yeah, I get it,\" they start high fiving like moron's while I'm still sitting here trying to work out what the fuck just happened?\n\n\"So, what? You think I should go back to school?\" I don't follow at all.\n\n\"No, you fucking moron,\" Alex says. Really? I'm the moron? \"You ask your dad for a spring break but you know adult style?\"\n\n\"Adult style?\" I'm still not getting it.\n\n\"Yeah, adult style. You get a break from life, get to do whatever the fuck you want, disappear, join a cult, whatever! After you're finished, you come home. And...well, you marry Aletta,\" he cringes, \"I can't really see a way out of that one, but at least it will be on your terms.\" Fuck, that's not actually a half bad idea.\n\n\"Yeah, your father will fucking hate that! It's perfect,\" I chuckle under my breath. Fucking Jayden, he is all for anything that will fuck my father over. I think he hates the guy almost as much as I do.\n\n\"Okay, okay...that's not a bad idea. So, what? Say I want a week off before I agree to marry Aletta?\" That sounds easy enough.\n\n\"Nah man, a YEAR!\" Kyle is standing up now, too excited over the idea to sit still.\n\n\"A year? Fuck off, my dad will never go for a year.\" I don't think he would even give me a week.\n\n\"Says who? Just ask him!\" Just ask him? I guess it wouldn't hurt to try. I mean, what do I have to lose?\n\nJust then a chick decides to make her way over, she has been eye fucking me from the dance floor for most of the night.\n\n\"Fine. I'll ask him,\" I finish off my beer and stand up, \"I'm out.\" The guys all look like they are about to protest until the blonde puts her arm on mine and starts whispering naughty things in my ear.\n\nMy night is finally starting to look up.\n\n### ***\n\nWe bust through my apartment door and her hands are all over me, they were already all over me in the cab ride here but this time they go straight down my pants and she fists my cock.\n\nI'm not fully hard yet as there's something about her I'm not really into but that doesn't seem to stop her. We make our way over to the couch, her ripping my clothes off as we go. I take a seat and watch her attempt at a strip tease that is anything but sexy.\n\n\"Where do you want me baby?\" Fuck, I love a chick who's willing to please.\n\n\"On your knees,\" I demand. She wastes no time at all dropping to her knees and taking my full cock in her mouth, all the way to the back of her throat, \"Fuck.\"\n\n\"You like that?\" she teases.\n\n\"Yeah, but stop talking,\" I hate talkers. I would rather she shut the fuck up and kept sucking my dick.\n\nLike a good girl she gets back to it, pumping up and down on my cock like it's a fucking lollypop and her hands are playing with my balls.\n\nFuck it feels good.\n\nThis is exactly what I need.\n\nThen it hits me, the blonde hair, the makeup, the fake tits, fake everything, reminds me of Aletta.\n\nFuck.\n\nI'm watching her go to town on my dick and all I can think is, this will be my life...with Aletta.\n\nI push her back slightly and she looks like she's about to argue until she sees me pull a condom out of a drawer next to the couch.\n\nShe starts giggling like she won a prize. I roll the condom on then bring her up on the couch, she tries to kiss me but I turn her over so her stomach is flush with the couch, I grab her hips pulling them up high at the same time I slam into her, filling her up all the way to the hilt.\n\n\"Ahhhhhhh, YES!\" great, she's at it again. I push her front half down so her face is lying in the couch cushions. That should muffle her screams and without seeing her face I'm less reminded of Aletta.\n\nI continue to slam into her from behind, willing my body to get the release it craves, the distraction it sorely needs. I keep pounding into her hard and fast, over and over again, my hands gripping her hips, pulling her backwards and forwards.\n\nI can feel her pussy start to contract around me so I put my hand between her legs and give her clit a couple of quick flicks. That does it.\n\nShe's coming around my dick, screaming into my pillow and I can feel her wetness slide over my balls before they tighten. I find my release seconds later, slowly pumping until I'm satisfied that I have released every drop.\n\nOnce I'm done, I pull out and stand up. She flips over, looking up at me with a very satisfied smile on her face.\n\n\"Thanks for tonight,\" I say.\n\n\"I can stay, if you want another round,\" fuck. I'm sick of chicks like this, once they realize you have money, they think you can become their next meal ticket through sex.\n\n\"No thanks, there's a bathroom down the hall, lock up on your way out.\" I turn and start walking in the opposite direction to where I pointed, hoping she will get the hint. Most girls do but some, some like to think they're special.\n\nI walk into my own bathroom, get rid of the condom in the trash and grab a quick shower, turning the water up as hot as I can handle it. The fact that she reminded me of Aletta makes my skin crawl and I scrub my body until I feel raw, paying special attention to my dick.\n\nOnce I'm satisfied that I' clean enough, I jump out and wrap a towel around my hips. As I exit the bathroom, I'm a little worried that I might find that chick on my bed but thankfully, she took the hint and left.\n\nI grab a pair of clean undies out of my dresser and put them on before throwing my towel towards the bathroom, I'll pick that up tomorrow. I slide under the covers and take a few deep, calming breaths before willing sleep to take me.\n\n### ***\n\nI wake up suddenly to the sound of my phone ringing. I raise my head only to fall back down on my pillow. Fuck. I haven't been this hungover in a long time. My head is pounding and my mouth feels about as dry as the Sahara Desert.\n\nThankfully the sound stops.\n\nOnly to start back up again.\n\nWho the fuck is trying to call me?\n\nShit. My father. Fuck. In my haste to get out of bed, my feet tangle in the sheets and I fall to the ground with a thud.\n\n\"Hmpf,\" I lie there for a few seconds in a daze before remembering my predicament and jump to my feet. I walk around my apartment in a daze following the sound. Where the hell is my phone?\n\nFinally, I find it underneath the couch. How the hell did it get under there?\n\n\"Hello,\" I try to keep my voice as natural as possible.\n\n\"What took you so long to answer the damn phone,\" my father is barking down the line which isn't helping the pounding in my head.\n\n\"I-\" I barely manage to get a squeak out before he is interrupting me.\n\n\"I don't have time for your excuses. You were supposed to be here half an hour ago and now I only have five minutes before I need to leave for a meeting. Your incompetence astounds me.\" I roll my eyes. Looks like we are off to a good start.\n\n\"What's your answer?\" wasting no time I see.\n\n\"Um-\" I'm so hungover that it's hard to come up with a response.\n\n\"Hurry up! I don't have all damn day,\" fuck, what do I say?\n\n\"Yes, on one condition.\" The words come out in a rush. I'm afraid that once my father hears the word 'yes', I won't be able to get another word in.\n\nI'm hopeful when he takes a moment before responding.\n\n\"Alright, I'll humor you. What's this condition of yours?\" He'll humor me? Fucking controlling bastard.\n\n\"I will marry Aletta...but first, I want some time off, some time to myself. Without you or Aletta or anyone else around to tell me what to do or interfering with my life.\" I hold my breath, waiting for his reply.\n\n\"That sounds reasonable,\" huh? Is he on crack?\n\n\"I want a year,\" a year to myself would be amazing. I might never come back.\n\n\"HA!\" that's more like the reaction I was expecting, \"I will give you a week.\"\n\n\"No way. Six months,\" bargaining with my father almost never works but he must really want this marriage to go ahead. I wonder, not for the first time, if there is more to it.\n\n\"Two weeks,\" he's barely negotiating, fucking hard ass.\n\n\"Dad, I know you don't give a fuck about me but I need this. Please,\" great. Now I sound like a pussy. I don't make a habit out of asking my father for favors and now I am practically on my knees begging.\n\n\"Three months,\" the words are said so quietly I almost don't hear them.\n\n\"What?\" I'm afraid to speak in case he changes his mind.\n\n\"You heard, boy. Don't play dumb with me. You get three months and not a day more.\" I'm about to respond when all I hear is the dial tone. He hung up on me.\n\nThat doesn't matter though because I have three months. Three months to...shit, what am I going to do for the next three months?\n\n# Chapter 9\n\n## Mason\n\nI'm sitting on the couch, completely focused on my laptop that's sitting on the coffee table. It was on my lap but my knee was bouncing so much I couldn't see much of anything on the screen. The TV is on but I have no idea what's playing, I turned it on as a distraction but it's not working.\n\nWhere the fuck is Kyle? He was supposed to be here two hours ago. Just then the front door slams open, \"I got it!\" Bloody Kyle, always talking in riddles.\n\n\"What do you got? It sure as hell ain't a watch,\" I'm pissed off and agitated and I'm taking it out on him.\n\n\"Oh, don't be like that man. You know I got your back. I was out getting supplies,\" that sounds promising.\n\n\"Okay, what did you bring?\" I look down at his hands as he walks into the room, they're empty.\n\n\"Umm, nothing,\" he gives me a sheepish smile, like that will stop me from kicking his ass. \"But I did have a great idea,\" I sigh.\n\n\"What's this great idea then,\" this ought to be good. I try to reframe from rolling my eyes.\n\n\"You need a fake passport,\" he says and by the look on his face I can tell he thinks his idea is brilliant.\n\n\"A fake passport? You're serious?\" Apart from that being highly illegal, where the hell does he expect me to get one from? It's not like I can jump on eBay and buy one.\n\n\"Yes,\" the look on his face is completely serious.\n\n\"Okay, first of all, why the hell would I need a fake passport? And second, how would I even get one?\" I decide to humor him for a second.\n\n\"Just stop interrupting and I will tell you,\" I roll my eyes, I didn't interrupt him. \"If you travel with your own passport, your father will keep tabs on you. He will send people to spy on you. Hell, he will probably even send chicks to fuck you so he can know what you are up to,\" damn, he has a point. \"Buuuutttt...If you travel on a fake passport. He will have no idea where you have gone. It will drive him insane!\" Okay, so that's not a half bad plan.\n\n\"I admit. It's a great idea. But how do I get one?\" I know people get fake passports all the time in the movies but I'm not sure it's actually a real thing.\n\n\"That's why I was late. I went to see Alex.\" Alex? Last time I checked Alex wasn't a criminal mastermind.\n\n\"So, what? Is Alex in the fake passport business now?\" my voice is dripping with sarcasm.\n\n\"No, but he has a shady friend who is,\" what? \"He rung him while I was there. He can make you an urgent one and have it ready by tomorrow. We just need to give him photo, a name and...twenty grand.\"\n\n\"TWENTY GRAND?!\" Is he for real? \"Is that a joke?\"\n\n\"No, it's not a joke man. Besides, that's nothing for you. I know you have some money stashed away around here in case of emergencies.\" He's right, I do. \"And this is definitely an emergency.\"\n\n\"Fine. I'm in. But I better not get in trouble. I'm not spending my three months of freedom in jail,\" this plan better fucking work.\n\n\"Pretty sure it would be more than three months in jail if you were caught.\" I reach over to hit the bastard but he is gone before I can reach him, \"I'll get the camera.\"\n\nWe get a photo taken which is easy enough, then sit down to work out a name.\n\n\"Alfalfa,\" he is clearly excited over this idea as he is yelling each idea out. I however, am less than thrilled with his suggestions.\n\n\"Like the sprout?\" he can't be serious.\n\n\"Bernard,\" he shouts.\n\n\"Am I fifty?\" it's like he's not even trying.\n\n\"Chucky,\" like the fucking doll?\n\n\"Can, you take this seriously?\" I stand up and start pacing the length of the lounge. Coming up with a fake name shouldn't be that hard.\n\nI tune out Kyle and his other stupid suggestions, glancing up at the TV where Jason Bourne is kicking ass. Man, I wish I could be like him. I bet he would never agree to marry Al-, wait, that's it.\n\n\"Jason Bourne!\" this time it's my turn to shout.\n\n\"Yes, it's on TV, great. But we need a name,\" he looks exasperated.\n\n\"No, I can be Jason Bourne,\" I point to the TV.\n\n\"You want your fake name to be Jason Bourne?\" he's looking at me like I'm the idiot. How is my suggestion worse than any of his?\n\n\"Yeah, what's wrong with that?\" at least it's a normal name.\n\n\"Don't you think it will make the security staff at the airport a little suspicious?\" Oh, I hadn't thought of that. Kyle stands up and starts making his way to the door with an evil smile on his lips. \"Just leave it with me man, you know I got your back.\" Then he is running, literally running to my front door. The traitor. I go to race after him but then realize I still don't have anywhere to go.\n\nI need a plan and fast.\n\n### ***\n\nThe next morning, I am no closer to figuring out a destination but I need to ring my assistant Alice to let her know I won't be in for a while.\n\n\"Good morning, Alice speaking,\" she answers after the first ring.\n\n\"Alice, I know my name shows up on your screen, I told you a hundred times, you don't have to be so formal with me.\" She is damn good at her job and I would be lost without her help, I try to keep her happy so she won't quit on me. Although I wouldn't blame her if she did.\n\n\"Sorry, habit. What can I do for you on this fine Sunday?\" Sunday? Damn.\n\n\"Shit, sorry Alice,\" calling her on a fucking weekend. Good one.\n\n\"That's alright. What is it? Is this about Aletta?\" her voice is soft, testing my reaction.\n\n\"How do you know about Aletta?\" it's like she's a mind reader.\n\nShe sounds hesitant to answer, \"Your father rang me yesterday, said if I wanted to keep my job then I had to act like you and Aletta getting married wasn't a big surprise. That, the two of you have been secretly dating for months and are in love,\" what a fucking dick.\n\n\"Alice...I'm so sorry,\" I really am. Alice is a great girl. I don't want to lose her as an assistant, or get her fired because of me.\n\n\"That's okay, I was offered a nice bonus in return for keeping my mouth shut. A trip to the Bahamas also wouldn't hurt,\" she says and I chuckle. I like that she is real with me. Not many people outside of my circle of friends are.\n\n\"Done,\" I pause, not sure how to say the rest. \"Alice, I'm going to be away for three months, I-\"\n\n\"Don't say anything more, the less I know the better. You know your father likes to grill me for information and he can be scary,\" I can practically see her shuddering down the line.\n\n\"I'm sorr-\" she interrupts me before I can finish apologizing, my father really is a prick.\n\n\"Don't mention it and have fun. Oh, but before you go, I need to know this year's charity fund that you want to donate to.\" Every year I make a donation to a charity, I like donating to a good cause but when it's my father's idea to make the yearly donation, it kind of takes some of the fun out of it.\n\n\"Oh okay, um...I haven't really thought about it. Maybe just do the same as last year.\" I don't get any response from her. I look down at my phone to make sure we are still connected, \"Alice?\"\n\n\"Yeah, I'm still here...I just, um, had an idea that's all,\" I wish she wouldn't hesitate to tell me things, I'm not my father. I'm not going to snap.\n\n\"What is it?\" she still hesitates, \"Come on Alice, you can tell me anything.\"\n\n\"Well, you remember about a month ago when we were out for lunch and we ran into that Suzie Lancaster?\" her voice still seems hesitant.\n\n\"Yeah?\" How could I forget. My father was irate for a whole week after seeing her.\n\n\"Um, well, she was talking about her Foundation, she was asking your father to donate to The Housing Project, said he should even come lend a hand in Africa and she would make sure he had the best shack available to stay in. Even said she would provide mostly clean water and a bag to shit in,\" I laugh out loud at that comment.\n\n\"Alice, how could I forget. That was brilliant,\" so brilliant in fact that I had spit my water all over the table.\n\n\"So, I started looking into her Foundation and they actually do some incredible work. A project is starting up in Southern Africa in a few days, they could really use the money. And, well...it would piss your father off,\" I could hug her, that's a brilliant idea.\n\n\"Alice, you never cease to amaze me, get it done,\" my father will be fuming when he finds out what I've done.\n\n\"Great, perfect. So, I guess I'll see you in three months?\" she sounds relieved that I liked her idea.\n\n\"Yeah, you will. Will you be o-\" I get lost in thought for a moment. Could this be what I was looking for? \"Alice, can you tell me more about that project in Africa?\"\n\n### ***\n\nLater that night, I'm once again sitting on my couch, waiting for Kyle, except this time I'm eating Chinese takeout. Both Kyle and Alice have assured me that everything has been taken care of. My flights have been booked, my fake passport apparently exists and my volunteer spot has been organized with the Foundation. My bag is even packed and sitting by the front door.\n\nThere's only one problem.\n\nMy name.\n\nI don't know who I am supposed to be. I wanted time to mentally prepare myself. Get used to answering to a different name. Make up a game plan, a backstory.\n\nInstead, I have been sitting here on the couch for most of the day wearing sweat pants, watching TV and eating rubbish. Kyle better get here soon or the plan is off. I will just drive down to Mexico and drink my sorrows away for three months.\n\n\"You're welcome,\" I almost jump out of my skin. I was so lost in my own train of thought that I never even heard Kyle come in. \"I said, you're welcome. You could at least act grateful.\"\n\n\"Huh?\" what am I supposed to be grateful for?\n\n\"Are you in a sugar coma or something?\" He gestures with his head at my surroundings. I look around, noticing empty potato chip packets, candy bar wrappers and shrug, \"Never mind. Open you your present,\" that gets my attention. It must be my passport. Finally.\n\nI tear into the package only to be disappointed.\n\n\"Really?\" he's an idiot.\n\n\"Yes, really!\" he's beaming. \"It was your idea. It's perfect,\" I drop my head in my hands. Kyle smacks me on the shoulder, \"Well I got to run amigo, I have a date.\" I look up to see him standing there with his arms open.\n\n\"What are you doing?\" I'm not a hugger and he knows it.\n\n\"My best friend is going to Africa for three months, I want a damn hug,\" he keeps wiggling his arms, getting impatient.\n\n\"Kyle, no one is supposed to know where I'm going,\" I will be pissed if he tells anyone.\n\n\"Don't worry, only Alice and I know. Our lips are sealed,\" he makes a key locking gesture by his lips with his hand. \"Now stand up and give me a hug.\" I comply only to get him off my case. We make our way over to the front door, \"Being serious now though, once you step on that plane tomorrow, I want you to forget about your life here. Be free. Be happy. Be Jason Bourne,\" he winks. \"And if at the end of the three months, you don't want to come back then don't come back. I will come visit you wherever you are. If you come back and decide not to marry Aletta then you have a spot on my couch for life,\" I cringe. \"Hey, my couch isn't that bad! But even if you decide to marry that crazy bitch,\" he makes the sign of the cross with his fingers over his chest. \"I will stand next to you at that alter as your best man. I got your back, always.\"\n\n\"Thanks, man. That means a lot.\" After I see Kyle out, I stand in the kitchen staring down at my new identity for the next three months.\n\nJason Bourke.\n\nCould be worse.\n\nRight?\n\nAt least it's similar to my real name, so it should be easy to remember.\n\nI hope.\n\n# Chapter 10\n\n## Eva\n\n\"Tell me again why I have to go to the airport?\" Fraser is running around getting things organized for the volunteers that will be arriving today. He is normally a lot more organized than this. He seems kind of frazzled today, must have something to do with Maria.\n\n\"I already told you, a have a few last-minute things I have to sort out with the volunteers,\" he isn't looking at me. Just fluffing around with various items in one of the containers. Picking things up and then putting them down in a different spot.\n\n\"Fraser, what's going on?\" he tenses at my question.\n\n\"Nothing. Here's the list,\" he shoves the list at my chest before practically running from the container. \"Thanks again!\" he yells while hightailing it out of there.\n\nWhat the hell? I look down at the list. There are eight names printed in black ink. That's normal since we have to print everything out before we come here. What's not normal, however, is the ninth name written at the bottom of the list in blue pen. In Fraser's hand writing.\n\nI exit the container and bump straight into Maria. I look around and can't see Fraser anywhere.\n\n\"Maria, do you know where I can find Fraser,\" her eyes drop down to the list, then back up to my face. She starts shaking her head.\n\n\"No. Nope. Sorry. No idea. Nope,\" then she disappears just as quickly as Fraser did.\n\nSlowly, I start making my way over to Patrick and Neil, they are talking to Jabu and some other villagers, organizing the next steps in the build for one of the houses. Patrick sees me coming.\n\n\"Sorry, Eva. Very busy here. No time to help,\" what the hell? Neil looks like a deer stuck in headlights, before Patrick nudges him and they all start to move away. Towards an empty field. Why is everyone avoiding me?\n\nJust then I see Fraser duck behind the hall. Is he seriously hiding from me?\n\nI decide to sneak up on him. I have to leave for the airport in the next ten minutes or I will be late, I want an explanation before I go.\n\nSneaking around the side of the hall, I spot Fraser who is poking his head around the other side, looking from left to right. Looking for me, I realize. I make sure I am as close as I can get before I speak, \"Looking for someone?\"\n\n\"Aaaaah!\" I can't help it, I laugh.\n\n\"You squeal like a girl,\" his scream made me forget that I am mad at him for a second.\n\n\"Why would you sneak up on me like that?\" he is holding his hand up to his chest, breathing heavily, I really got him good.\n\n\"Why are you avoiding me?\" I put my hands on my hips.\n\n\"Touché,\" he sighs before rubbing his hands over his face, mumbling something about a high roller.\n\n\"What was that?\" he just does the exact same thing. I grab his wrists and rip his hands off his face, \"Stop mucking around Fraser, did you say something about a high roller? Is that what this extra name is about?\" He ducks his head and nods, \"Fraser, seriously? You know I hate having high rollers come here, they are a pain in the ass. But I do like their donations and even I can pretend to like them for a week,\" he perks up.\n\n\"He did donate a lot,\" he is nodding like crazy.\n\n\"How much?\" any amount is a good amount as far as I'm concerned.\n\n\"Hundred grand,\" what?\n\nI'm speechless.\n\n\"A hundred grand, seriously?\" We never get last minute donations out of the blue that are that big, \"What's the catch?\"\n\n\"The catch...is that he wants to come out here and help build,\" so? I don't see why that would make Fraser act all crazy.\n\n\"They normally do Fraser, wanting to feel good about themselves and all that,\" I don't see what the big deal is here.\n\n\"He will be sharing the house with you,\" he says this while looking at his feet.\n\n\"I gathered that okay. I realize that when I have a place all to myself, I have to share when something like this happens,\" why is everyone avoiding me over this?\n\n\"So, you aren't going to make me switch?\" he asks and is looking at me through narrowed eyes.\n\n\"What? No. Of course not, you and Maria have made progress this last week,\" he perks up at that.\n\n\"Good. No backsies,\" he smirks before walking off.\n\n\"No backsies? What's that supposed to mean?\" he pretends not to hear me. I grab his arm, pulling him to a stop, \"Fraser, what aren't you telling me?\"\n\n\"He's staying for three months,\" he says seriously. What? He looks down at his non-existent watch. \"Oh no, look at the time. You better leave or you will be late,\" he turns around to leave and this time I don't stop him. I can't. I'm too shocked.\n\nThree months?\n\nI have to live with a high roller for three months? Three months of complaining about the heat, the food, the accommodation, the hard work. Wait. Who am I kidding? There is no way this guy will last three months. The last high roller I had stay with me didn't realize we actually expected her to work while she was here. She spent most of her time hiding out in her room, on her sat phone, begging daddy to let her come home.\n\nEverything will be fine. This guy will stay for a week, maybe two. Get bored and then leave. We will still get his donation and everything will be fine. Right. Good.\n\nI headed for the van.\n\n### ***\n\nEverything will not be alright.\n\nI have just caught my first glimpse of our high roller. Mr. Jason Bourke. And I do not like what I see.\n\nOkay, well, I like what I see. I'm not blind.\n\nThe man is gorgeous, stunningly so. But he has a cocky air about him and looks like he is used to getting what he wants. He screams player and is blatantly checking me out.\n\nI mean really?\n\nHe is staring directly at my tits.\n\nWhat a fucking pig.\n\nI try to get his attention off my chest and onto my face by saying his name, but it isn't really working. I don't know whether to be flattered or pissed off.\n\nNo. I'm pissed off. Very pissed off.\n\nI do not like this man, at all.\n\nJust because he looks like a GQ model, that doesn't give him the right to stare at my breasts.\n\nFinally. Finally, he looks me in the eyes, \"I said...are you Jason?\"\n\n# Chapter 11\n\n## Jason\n\nI get off the shitty aircraft that took us from Johannesburg to the King Mswati III International Airport in Eswatini. The plane was so small it didn't even have a business class section.\n\nI was stuck next to a dude who waffled on and on about how this was his third volunteer trip with The Housing Project and his second with Fraser and Eva, I rolled my eyes when he started talking about Eva, it was obvious the dude has a hard on for her.\n\nHe is somehow still next to me while we are collecting our bags, like we are now mates just because we happened to sit next to each other on a plane for fifty minutes. He is still waffling on until he looks over my shoulder and smiles. \"There she is,\" he says, he doesn't even bother finishing his lame ass story, just walks straight past me. I'm guessing the mysterious Eva has come to collect us, I grab my stuff and spin around, I can't wait to see what this chick looks like.\n\n\"Holy fuck,\" the words come out of my mouth in a rush and I hope no one else heard them. I watch her as she makes her way around the airport greeting everyone and I am dumbstruck by her beauty.\n\nShe has long dark brown hair that is pulled into a ponytail. She has a light tan that is shown off by a slim tank top, her tits aren't that impressive but they would fit in the palms of my hands perfectly and I find myself drawn to them. My eyes fall lower to her shorts that fall to mid-thigh.\n\nI keep hoping she will turn around so I can catch a glimpse of her ass, I bet it is as perfect as her tits. Her legs aren't overly long, she seems to be around 5ft 4in, but they are toned.\n\nAs she gets closer to me, I let my eyes travel back up her body, lingering on her tits for a few seconds before they land on her face. The first thing I notice about her face is her lips, soft subtle pink lips that I can imagine would wrap around my dick nicely.\n\nI can't see any trace of makeup which is odd, most girls I know wouldn't be caught dead in public without make up. She has beautiful round green eyes framed by long black lashes, I snap back to reality when I realize those green eyes are staring directly at me and are narrowed into small slits. Shit.\n\n\"I said...are you Jason?\" That's right, that's my name. She seems pissed off; she must have been talking to me while I was checking her out. Fuck.\n\n\"Um, yeah, Jason, um, that's me,\" great. I sound like an idiot, talk about a shitty first impression, I sound like the loser from the airplane.\n\n\"Good, get your shit and follow me, you may be a high roller but you won't get any special treatment around here...well, at least not from me.\" That's when I look around and realize almost everyone else is already loaded up in the van.\n\nHow long was I staring at her for?\n\nI make my way over to the van and see that the back is pretty much full, fuck that, there is no way I want to squeeze in back there, it's hot as fuck out here. I open the front passenger door and hop in; I only brought a small duffle bag with me as I packed kind of last minute so I prop it on the seat in between us.\n\n\"What are you doing?\" she still looks pissed off.\n\n\"Huh?\" I ask, confused. She told me to get in the van and now she's getting angry because I did? The really hot ones always have to have a bit of crazy mixed in, shame really.\n\n\"I said, what are you doing?\" Even the frown between her eyebrows is sexy, if she doesn't seem too crazy, I wouldn't mind going a few rounds with her, I like the feisty ones.\n\n\"Waiting for you to drive,\" that comment earns me an eye roll, awesome, she is definitely pissed about me ogling her rack.\n\n\"You're supposed to be in the back with everyone else,\" she's trying to act all huffy, put me in my place. I like that. Maybe she's not so crazy after all, just crazy for me, the good girls always act like they don't want it.\n\n\"Well, it's full back there, so just drive,\" she glances in her rear-view mirror and curses under her breath when she realizes that I'm right.\n\n\"Okay, everyone. Buckle up, we have a forty-minute trip to Simunye and then another few hours to where you will be staying for the week and the roads can get a little bumpy.\" You have got to be kidding me, I would kill for a comfy bed right now with some air conditioning.\n\n\"Did you just say another few hours?\" I groan when she nods her head.\n\n\"Yep,\" she smirks, turns her eyes back to the road, starts the van and takes off.\n\n### ***\n\nA few hours in a van with no air con, no radio, windows down, on dusty as fuck roads might not seem like a big deal. But I have just spent a total of twenty-eight hours in airplanes and sitting around at airports to get to this shit hole.\n\nI'm tired, grumpy and hungry.\n\nSitting next to Eva is also making me horny. By the time we reach, wherever we are, I'm covered in sweat and dust. This seems to bring Eva an incredible amount of joy, the only difference with her is that her ponytail seems a little wind swept. Other than the slight sheen of sweat on her chest, which is sexy as fuck by the way, she seems completely put together, like that shitty car ride didn't affect her at all.\n\nLooking around at everyone else as they pile out of the van gives me some satisfaction, I'm not the only one who didn't enjoy that.\n\nEva gets our attention and introduces us to a man named Fraser, he seems similar in age to Eva, bit taller than her at around 5ft 7in, skinny in statue although he seems to have lean muscle, pale in complexion although I don't see how with this fucking sun. He has dark red hair and brown eyes, overall, I'm not that impressed.\n\nAs he speaks, I keep wondering what the deal between those two are, they seem very friendly, they start leading us somewhere and I really should pay more attention as I have no idea where we're going, I'm too busy watching them interact with each other.\n\nAs we walk, I keep Eva in my sights, taking the opportunity to check out her ass and I was right, it's perfect.\n\nThe only thing that is able to tear my eyes off her ass is the fact that Fraser just put his arm around her shoulder and is whispering in her ear, what the fuck?\n\nSurely, they aren't a couple. She is way hotter than he is, she should be with someone like...what, me? What is wrong with me? I never spend this long checking out a female, let along get hung up on who she may or may not be dating.\n\nThey won't be dating.\n\nWe all pile into a hall that's newly built; I look around and notice military style cots line the walls on both sides along with a small table next to each one, please tell me we are not sleeping here.\n\nI was too busy checking out the space and once again missed the announcement. I really need to start paying more attention.\n\nEveryone starts moving towards a bed, sorting their belongings and reading some papers that have been left on each bed, if you can really call those things a bed. I soon notice there are eight beds and nine volunteers, I start looking for Eva, I want to ask her where I'm supposed to sleep.\n\n\"Jason, right?\" I look over to see Fraser extending his hand for me to shake, I take it and maybe grip a little harder than necessary, this just makes his grin even bigger. Odd.\n\n\"Yeah and you're Fraser?\" I can't seem to work this dude out, but I want too.\n\n\"The one and only, follow me and I will take you to where you will be sleeping for the duration of your stay,\" he turns around and I start to follow.\n\n\"Thank fuck,\" I feel instant relief at the fact I don't have to stay in here with these people. Airplane guy waves at me enthusiastically but I just ignore him. Good fucking riddance.\n\n\"Hmm?\" shit, I'm making good first impressions all round today.\n\n\"Oh nothing, lead the way.\" Once outside the hall he points out to his right where the original village houses are, they look more like run down shacks than houses, no wonder they need some new ones.\n\nMost of the space north of there is empty apart from three small buildings a few hundred meters away. As we start walking towards those buildings, Fraser explains that directly opposite from the hall they will build a church, on both sides north of the church and the hall they will build new houses to accommodate the extra families that have come to the village and have nowhere to live.\n\n\"These three small buildings you see here, are where the staff live for the duration of the project, once we leave, they will house teachers and visiting medics. We are going to build a school, playground and small medical facility to the right there,\" he is pointing as he speaks towards a barren landscape.\n\n\"So, Eva stays in one of these?\" Fraser smiles but looks away quickly trying to hide it, when he looks my way again his face is back to a neutral expression.\n\n\"Yes, Eva stays in one of these. Each building houses two people,\" interesting, I wonder who I get to share with, I know who I would like to share with.\n\n\"Do you share with Eva?\" What I'm really asking is, are you a couple, but I don't want to be too obvious about it.\n\n\"No, I share with Maria. You will meet her at the hall later for dinner, we eat under the lean to off the side, if you haven't noticed it's rather hot here so we prefer to eat outside.\" Is he purposely avoiding telling me where Eva will be staying?\n\n\"Who else stays here?\" All I really care about is where Eva is staying.\n\n\"Neil and Patrick, Neil is an experienced Builder and Patrick is an experienced Plummer, their help and knowledge is vital to our project.\" Fuck. I guess that means I'm staying with either Neil or Patrick then.\n\nFraser leads me to the furthest building on the left, it looks tiny, I'm surprised it can fit two people. When he opens the door and holds his hand out for me to go in first, I find out why.\n\nStraight ahead is the kitchen, although it only really contains a sink, a small bench with only a jug out and some cupboards. Off the back of the kitchen has got to be the smallest bathroom I have ever seen but at least it contains a toilet, a shower and basin with a small mirror hanging off the wall. To the left are two doors, Fraser informs me I will be in the bedroom on the right, right next to the bathroom...awesome.\n\nIn between the two-bedroom doors is the smallest table I have ever seen along with two chairs. I open the door to my bedroom to find a proper bed with an actual mattress, it's a single bed and the mattress looks pretty thin but I don't really care, I'm just glad I get to sleep in a bed and not one of those damn cots.\n\nNext to the bed is a small set of drawers and a window that gives me a view back to the hall and, well, that's it.\n\nI walk back out to the kitchen to see Fraser leaning against the door frame, waiting for me to have a look around. I'm starting to second guess my decision in coming here, I might have been too hasty in my decision.\n\n\"Everything okay?\" Shit, I don't want to give him the impression that I feel too good to stay here. I might have a lot of money but I'll be damned if I come across as one of those people.\n\n\"Yeah,\" I take a moment to look at the closed bedroom door on my right. \"Who stays in there?\" he smirks at my question.\n\n\"Eva,\" well fuck me, maybe I did make the right decision after all.\n\n\"What?\" I heard him the first time but I can't believe my luck so I want to check that I wasn't hearing things.\n\n\"That's Eva's room, she's the project lead and normally gets a room all to herself but occasionally when we get high rollers like yourself, she has to share.\" Fuck yes. I smile for the first time since I landed in Africa. Things are finally looking up.\n\nFraser must guess what I'm thinking as he just laughs at me, shaking his head as he turns to go, \"Get cleaned up and then meet us back over at the hall.\" Yep, they definitely aren't a couple.\n\nI take my time in shower. There isn't any hot water but I don't really need it, the cold water is helping to cool me down and the flowery soap I found is getting rid of the thick layer of dirt I have acquired on my skin in the short time since being here.\n\nReluctantly, I turn off the shower and hop out, not looking forward to heating up again. I can hear movement outside the bathroom door, Eva must be here. I decide not to dry off, wrapping my towel low around my hips instead, I open the bathroom door hoping my plan does the trick.\n\nBingo.\n\nI knew she was into me.\n\n# Chapter 12\n\n## Eva\n\nI'm going to give Jason a piece of my mind.\n\nEverybody is over at the hall waiting for orientation to start, waiting for Mr. high roller to make his presence known.\n\nI storm over to the staff housing only to find the bathroom door closed and the shower running. I am about to pound on the door when Fraser's words come back to me. 'He donated $100,000 to our cause, be nice, we need people like him, don't piss him off', bloody Fraser, always the reasonable one.\n\nI take a seat at the small table and wait for Jason to finish in the shower, then I keep waiting. That fucker is using up all the water, doesn't he realize we are on a limited water supply here. I'm getting angrier and angrier as I sit here, I'm almost ready to pound on the door again when the water shuts off.\n\nWhen the door doesn't immediately open, I get annoyed and start pacing the small space. Finally, I hear the bathroom door open, I turn around with my mouth open, ready to let loose a string of curse words, Fraser be damned, when the words die in my throat.\n\nHoly fuck.\n\nHe's naked.\n\nWell, not entirely naked but that towel is so low on his hips he may as well be. Every inch of that man is covered in muscle, I tried to not let him see how much he affected me in the airport after I caught him staring at my breasts and I tried my hardest to avoid looking at him after that, telling myself that I did not find him attractive but fuck me. There is no looking away now.\n\nHis shoulders and arms are rippled with muscles but not overly so, not in that bodybuilder way but in that panty melting way. My eyes slowly travel over his pecs and down his beautiful six pack, he must work out. A. Lot.\n\nEvery inch of him is still covered in water, clinging to every curve of muscle on his body, and his V, oh my god that V. I find myself staring at that patch of skin for far too long and can feel my panties getting damp. Fuck. Get a hold of yourself girl.\n\n\"My eyes are up here princess,\" that snaps me out of it.\n\n\"What?!\" Instantly, I am on fire, I can't believe I got caught doing the same thing I got mad at him for earlier. What is wrong with me?\n\nThere have been plenty of attractive volunteers before and I have always managed to keep my cool, what's so different about this one?\n\n\"I said my eyes up here, I'm not a piece of meat you know, although my meat can be made available for you to have a taste any time you like, just say the word,\" he smirks. Arrogant Fuck. He has some nerve.\n\nI keep staring at his hazel eyes, beautiful hazel eyes, willing my mind to come up with something clever to say back to him, anything, anything at all. He brings his hand up and runs it through his short dark brown hair, the move is sexy as fuck and what's worse is he knows it.\n\n\"Water,\" good one Eva, smooth, real smooth.\n\n\"Excuse me?\" I can tell that's not what he expected me to say. It's not what I expected to say either, I was hoping for something much wittier.\n\n\"You can't use that much water,\" that was only slightly better than 'water.'\n\n\"Okay?\" he looks around, clearly confused.\n\n\"We run on a limited supply here, we have to conserve water at all times, just because you made a big donation doesn't mean you get to use more water than anyone else.\" There, a proper sentence. That wasn't so hard, was it?\n\n\"Oh, I didn't know, I'm sorry.\" Huh?\n\n\"What?\" surely it can't be that easy, is this some kind of a trick.\n\n\"I'm sorry, I wasn't aware, next time I will take a shorter shower.\" Well, that's a surprise, most high rollers think they can do want they want, including arguing with me and pointing out the fact that they made a very large donation at every turn.\n\n\"Two minutes,\" great, I'm back to small words.\n\n\"Two minutes?\" he's smiling now. Way to go Eva, making yourself look like a fool in front of the hot guy.\n\n\"Yes, two minutes, keep your showers to under two minutes,\" and put some damn clothes on. I can't last three months with him living here if I have to endure this every morning.\n\n\"Okay, I can do that,\" he is still smiling at me.\n\n\"Good,\" we continue to stare at one another for a few seconds, although it feels like minutes. Why is he still staring at me?\n\n\"You missed orientation, I will have Fraser give you the run down after dinner, dinner's in ten.\" I need to leave. Now.\n\n\"Can't you do it?\" No, no I cannot. I need to stay far, far away from you and that towel.\n\n\"Do what?\" I feign confusion but I'm not sure that it works.\n\n\"Give me the run down after dinner,\" that smile must usually work for him, hell it's close to working on me.\n\n\"No,\" stay firm Eva.\n\n\"Oh, okay, well I guess I'll see you at dinner then,\" not if I can help it.\n\n\"Don't be late this time,\" I turn and leave before he can say anything else.\n\nOn the way back to the hall I run into Fraser, \"I was just coming to find you, thought you might need help with the new guy.\" He's acting like everything is fine between us, but it's not, it's not fine at all.\n\n\"Fuck you,\" my statement causes him to laugh, really? Friends don't laugh at each other in times of crisis.\n\n\"What did I do now?\" He isn't taking this seriously, at all.\n\n\"I need you to switch rooms with me,\" my breathing starts to get heavy; I'm freaking out. Thankfully that gets his attention, he pulls me to a stop and looks straight into my eyes.\n\n\"What did he do? Did he hurt you? Eva, you can te-\" I start to cut him off before his mind goes down that path, I have only had one other high roller hit on me during my time with the Lancaster Foundation and he got sent packing by Fraser pretty quickly for making me feel uncomfortable.\n\n\"No, no, nothing like that, he just...fuck...he, he came out of the bathroom all wet with only a towel around his waist, then he thought I was checking him out and offered to fuck me.\" Fraser's reaction is to bend over at the waist and start laughing, nice Fraser, real nice.\n\n\"It's not funny,\" I whine and it's really not, he ignores me and starts walking in the direction of the hall again. I run to catch up, \"Fraser, I'm serious, you need to switch rooms with me.\"\n\n\"No.\" No? Did he just say no to me? Does he not realize that I'm his boss and I can make him do whatever I want?\n\n\"NO?!\" I cannot believe him, \"Why not?\" Selfish, that's what he is, a horrible and selfish friend.\n\n\"You know why Eva; I finally get to share a room with Maria and I'm not giving that up just because you find Jason attractive. Besides, earlier when I asked you if you were going to make me switch, you said, 'No. Of course not, you and Maria have made progress this last week.'\" I ignore the part where he throws my own words back in my face and focus on the first part of his sentence.\n\n\"Excuse me?\" my voice has gone all strange and high pitched.\n\n\"Eva, just face it, you have the hots for him, I suggest you take him up on his offer and fuck him,\" seriously? Some friend he is turning out to be.\n\n\"Hey, what are you guys talking about?\"\n\n\"Aaaaaahhh!!!\" I scream and turn around only to come face to face with Jason. Fuck.\n\n\"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you.\" He has the decency to look sheepish and I want to die. He has the worst timing in the world.\n\n\"What are you doing?\" I am so embarrassed. What if he heard us?\n\n\"I was just walking to dinner like you said to, I saw you guys and thought I would catch up so you can show me the way.\" Shit. I'm not sure if he heard Fraser or not and I don't want to stick around and find out.\n\nI'm not sure how to act so I do the only thing I can think of, I turn and walk away.\n\n\"I'll show you, follow me, so where are you fr-\" I don't get to hear the rest of what Fraser says as I am too busy putting as much distance between us as possible.\n\nDamn Fraser.\n\nDamn Jason\n\nDamn small living quarters.\n\nDamn fucking sexy towel.\n\nHow am I supposed to get through the next three months essentially living with that man?\n\n# Chapter 13\n\n## Jason\n\n' _Eva, just face it, you have the hots for him, I suggest you take him up on his offer and fuck him.'_\n\nI've never been happier than the moment I heard that sentence come out of Fraser's mouth. Not only does it prove they aren't a couple but it also proves that she has the hots for me. I knew she did when she spent about five minutes trying to stare through my towel to see my dick. But having it confirmed does funny things to my chest.\n\nDinner is served up buffet style on a bench outside the main hall, there must be a kitchen in the back of the hall that I didn't notice earlier but that makes sense. They have set up an area with a couple of long tables and there are a few support beams holding up a roof so that if it rains, we can still eat outside and there are two light bars hanging from the roof.\n\nI must admit, even though the set up here is extremely basic it's very well thought out, I'm not sure what the deal is with electricity here but they must run off a generator or something.\n\nI grab a plate and fill it with some meat and vegetables before searching the tables for Eva, she has conveniently placed herself at the fullest table so that I have no chance of sitting next to her.\n\nHer eyes dart up to meet mine before quickly darting away again, I smirk before making my way over to the other table. Where that fucking dude from the airplane is waving at me again and gesturing for me to sit next to him. What the hell, from what I gather this lot is only here for around a week and then they get swapped out for a new bunch. I can play nice for a week.\n\nEverybody is beat after a long day of travel so we decide to hit the hay early and save anymore socializing for tomorrow. I'm just about to find out where to put my plate when I recognize a voice behind me.\n\n\"You're on clean up.\" I turn around to face Eva and grin, she always seems to be annoyed around me.\n\n\"Excuse me? Were you talking to me?\" She's even beautiful when she's angry.\n\n\"Yes, you're on clean up duty tonight,\" she is standing with her feet apart and folds her arms over her chest. She looks like she's getting ready for a fight but all she is really doing is giving me a better look at her tits.\n\n\"Sure, what do I need to do?\" Again, I think I have surprised her with my answer, I should be offended but really, I know where she's coming from. Not all people that have money are assholes but when you consider the crowd I'm used to; they wouldn't take being told what to do very well and they sure as hell wouldn't want to clean up after other people.\n\n\"Oh, um, well, just go into the kitchen, Maria is in there, follow her lead.\" Then she turns around and walks away from me for the second time in one night.\n\nLittle does she know I actually enjoy watching her walk away, my eyes follow her fine ass until she turns the corner and disappears from sight.\n\nBy the time I make it back to my room, it's late and Eva's bedroom door is shut. I get ready for bed a bit disappointed that I won't get to see her again before I fall asleep. I spend a few minutes lying in bed before I look at the wall to my right, Eva is sleeping just on the other side of that wall.\n\nFuck, so close.\n\nI fall asleep with thoughts of Eva running through my head.\n\n### ***\n\nI wake up covered in sweat and my mouth is about as dry as the Sahara Desert, is it always this fucking hot? The only thing dreaming of Eva did was give me a semi, I get up and go to the bathroom, which isn't that easy given my current situation.\n\nWhen I exit the bathroom, I can hear movement in Eva's room and I go to get a drink in the kitchen, hoping to run into her instead of just going back to my room.\n\nYes, I'm that pathetic.\n\nI fill a glass with water then turn around, leaning against the bench hoping she doesn't freak out when she sees me. I enjoy making her flustered but I don't want to turn her off me all together.\n\nMy dick wants inside her, badly, I haven't been this turned on by a girl in a long time but if she actually hates me then my chances of fucking her are slim, and I'm determined to fuck this girl.\n\n# Chapter 14\n\n## Eva\n\nI slept terribly and I hate to admit that it was most likely Jason's fault, I woke up in the middle of the night covered in sweat that wasn't from the heat. No, it was from picturing Jason in that fucking towel.\n\nI get up to use the bathroom forgetting that I'm not staying alone anymore. Because it's so hot I normally sleep in a pair of panties and a small camisole. I open the door to my bedroom and freeze. There, leaning against the kitchen bench holding a glass of water is Jason and if it's possible he looks even better than yesterday.\n\nI get another view of his glorious chest but what has me stopping in my tracks is what he's wearing. A pair of tight briefs that leaves nothing to the imagination, I can clearly see the outline of his penis, his very large, very erect penis. Or should I say semi-erect? If possible, I think it's getting bigger, fuck, I'm staring at his dick, again, what is wrong with me?\n\nLook away. Look. Away.\n\nI'm well aware that my heavy breathing is making my breasts rise and fall, I can feel my nipples hardening but hopefully he doesn't notice. I drag my eyes slowly upwards until they met his and yep, he's definitely noticed my nipples, he's staring straight at them. Judging by the look on his face he seems almost as affected by this situation as I am.\n\nHis eyes suddenly make contact with mine and the heat in them is unmistakable, he wants me.\n\nJason moves first, he puts his glass down on the bench before taking a step in my direction.\n\nI panic.\n\nI panic and I'm not proud to say that I run to the bathroom like a little girl and slam the door shut, locking it behind me.\n\nWhat was that? What am I doing? I can't sleep with a volunteer, can I?\n\nRealizing I have been standing there facing the door for about five minutes, I strip off and jump straight into a cold shower. I need to get a grip.\n\nI take my time getting ready to face the day, making sure my ponytail is sitting at the right height, my teeth get a good two minute clean like they are supposed to and I floss, that's right, I floss, twice.\n\nI haven't heard anything outside the bathroom door in a while so I assume it's safe to exit, I was wrong.\n\nJason is sitting down at the small table facing the bathroom, still just wearing his underwear.\n\n\"Good morning,\" why hasn't he left yet.\n\n\"Morning,\" seriously? He wants to exchange morning pleasantries while practically naked. \"Why are you just sitting there...well, in your underwear,\" then I point to his crotch, as if he isn't already aware of what his is wearing.\n\nNice one Eva, I think I'm on a roll with witty conversation. He must think I'm an idiot.\n\n\"I was waiting to take my turn in the shower,\" he lifts one hand and starts rubbing his hair. Damn him, that move just draws my eyes towards his arm muscles. I was trying to be good.\n\n\"Oh,\" seems logical. He gets up and makes his way towards me, getting way too close than he should.\n\n\"Excuse me,\" just as he says this, he is already passing me, purposely brushing his hard, chiseled chest up against mine.\n\nBefore I realize what's happening, the door is partially shut and the shower is turned on. I turn my head slightly to see what he's playing at and instead I get a full view of his naked backside just before he slips into the shower, and what a fine backside it is. Urgh! Why couldn't he be ugly?\n\nAs soon as I finish dressing, I hear the shower turn off, shit, that was quick. Since I don't really need to grab anything else before I leave, I make a quick dash for the exit, pathetic, I know, but it had to be done.\n\n### ***\n\nI have successfully managed to avoid Jason for the last two days. It hasn't been easy considering we are staying at the same house and he has been trying to get my attention. I have managed to sneak away early both nights to be in bed by the time Jason came in and then I made sure to be gone by the time Jason woke up.\n\nI had to sacrifice my shower in the mornings to do it, opting to go back and shower in the middle of the day instead. That's where I am at the moment. In the shower. At lunch time. I'm so pathetic.\n\nOver the years, I have seen more than a few volunteers have a quick fling, it's like they think it doesn't count as they are away from their regular lives. But it counts to me. I have already been burned once and I don't fancy that happening again.\n\nI made the mistake of sleeping with a volunteer five years ago, he was sexy, charming and irresistible. A deadly combination and a combination that happens to be eerily similar to Jason.\n\nI'm too busy day dreaming to register the fact the Jason is standing right in front of me when I exit the bathroom.\n\n\"Are you seriously showering in the middle of the day, just to avoid me?\" He raises one eyebrow, patiently waiting for my response while I remain frozen in place.\n\nI scoff. Then I scoff again but don't manage to say anything else. Nice, I can't even come up with single words as a response anymore.\n\n\"You're looking good, by the way,\" his eyes travel slowly down my body and it's only then, that I realize the only thing I am wearing is my towel.\n\n\"Fuck,\" why does he make me so flustered? I go to step around him but he steps in the way. I begin to get irritated. I try to step around his other side, but he steps in my way. Again. \"What are you doing?\" why is he so frustrating? And why is he always around?\n\n\"I want to talk,\" really? He wants to talk when the only thing I have on is a towel?\n\n\"You want to talk?\" why couldn't he have tried to talk to me outside, fully clothed and in a public place.\n\n\"Yes,\" he folds his arms across his chest, \"Why is that so hard to believe?\"\n\nOnce again, I'm lost for words, this time though it's because I'm too busy staring at his biceps. Jason places a finger under my chin and forces my face up to meet his. He smirks and that damn smirk should be illegal. \"My eyes are up here princess,\" shit. I just got caught checking him out. Again.\n\nI feel tears well up in my eyes. I am mortified and beyond frustrated with myself. Why do I have to find him so attractive?\n\nThis time when I step around him, he lets me go.\n\n# Chapter 15\n\n## Jason\n\nI upset Eva today. I should apologize, get back on her good side, if I was even there to begin with. Hopefully I can catch a minute alone with her at the bonfire tonight.\n\nApparently, its tradition to eat dinner around a bonfire to mark the middle of the week for the volunteers. Doesn't make sense to me seeing as it's already about a million degrees here, even at night. But hey, it gives me a chance to see Eva and there hasn't been a lot of those.\n\nI'm currently on dinner duty, peeling potatoes and trying to come up with a plan to sit next to her tonight when she walks through the door.\n\n\"Hey Maria, Fraser said you needed help in here?\" Fuck, every time I look at her, she takes my breath away.\n\n\"Um, no?\" Hmm, interesting. I stop what I am doing so I can eavesdrop a bit better.\n\n\"Really? I like, just ran in to him outside and he said to come in here. That you needed help?\" What? Is Fraser actually trying to create an opportunity for me to hang out with her? This guy just keeps getting better and better.\n\n\"Oh, um, well,\" Maria glances over at me. \"Jason, might need some help?\" fuck yeah, I need some help.\n\n\"Yeah, I wouldn't mind some help.\" Eva doesn't look happy and Maria is slowly backing away, trying not to draw attention to herself. \"Please?\" I watch her face soften a tiny bit but then it hardens again.\n\n\"Can't. Busy. Sorry.\" Then she is walking away, she seems to do that a lot with me. I race to catch up with her, gripping her arm to stop her from running away.\n\n\"I'm sorry,\" for some reason it really bothers me that she doesn't seem to like me and I seem to have a fucked-up need for this girl to like me.\n\n\"What?\" I think maybe I should be insulted by the surprise marring her features but I let it go, I need this to go well. I'm running out of chances.\n\n\"I said, I'm sorry, about earlier today and well, I guess a few other things too. I just, well, I think it's pretty obvious that I find you attractive, really attractive,\" I groan. This is not how I wanted this apology to go, \"What I mean to say is that I'm not used to having female friends, but...I would like to be, your, um, friend,\" smooth Mason, real fucking smooth.\n\nSomehow when I jumped on that plane to come to Africa and become someone else, that someone else didn't have any game.\n\n\"Friend?\" I don't blame her for being confused, I'm pretty confused myself, I don't beg girls to be my friend. I don't beg them for anything, I've never needed too.\n\n\"Yes, friend. I'm going to be here for a while and we're sharing the same house. I don't want things to be awkward between us. I don't want you to avoid me,\" I want you to like me and then have sex with me, a lot.\n\n\"I wasn-\"\n\n\"You were,\" I interrupt her and she laughs, it's a beautiful sound. Is there anything about this girl that I don't like?\n\nMaybe I should stay away from her, she could be dangerous for my sanity.\n\n\"Okay, maybe I was avoiding you,\" she bites her bottom lip, hesitant to say more, it only makes my dick twitch. \"Okay, why not? Friends.\"\n\n\"Good. Friends,\" and maybe in time, friends with benefits. I would really, really like that.\n\n\"Good,\" she looks like she is ready to bolt again.\n\n\"Save me a seat at the bonfire tonight?\" What am I going to do next, give her my fucking pin? I seem to lose my head around this girl.\n\n\"Sure,\" this time she smiles shyly up at me before walking away. I don't know where the hell that friend thing came from. There is no way I want to spend three months here just being her friend. But for now, for right now, I can deal with being her friend.\n\nI think.\n\n### ***\n\nSurprisingly, Eva actually saves me a seat. \"You seem surprised,\" I chuckle at her greeting.\n\n\"Yeah sorry, I kinda am,\" she glances over at Fraser before reluctantly turning back to face me.\n\n\"Guess that's my fault,\" she starts fidgeting with her fingers. \"Look, I'm sorry. I have been rude to you the last few days, you have donated a lot of money to our cause and everyone says that you have been great at helping out. I should be more respectful, I just...\" she glances over at Fraser again and I get the feeling that this is some kind of pity date. Be nice to the guy that gave us a lot of money type thing.\n\n\"You just what?\" I ask and she blushes. Okay, now I'm intrigued.\n\n\"I just, um, feel flustered around you, that's all. I'm not used to sharing a room with anyone and if I do have to, it's normally only for a week, two tops.\" It's on the tip of my tongue to make a rude remark to her being flustered over me but that will only continue to push her away. I need to play this cool, get past the pity part and start working my charm.\n\n\"That's okay, I understand. I'm not used to living with someone either, or somewhere this hot,\" she laughs and I wasn't even being funny. Full on belly laughs and it's beautiful, she's beautiful. \"What's so funny?\" At this point I don't really care that she's laughing at me, I just want her to keep doing it.\n\n\"Is that why you run around half naked most of the time, you're hot?\" she asks and I want to reply, I'm hot for you.\n\n\"That's part of it,\" now I'm laughing too, at my own personal joke.\n\n\"What's the other part?\" If only she knew that I was desperate to be inside her. I haven't wanted someone this bad in a long time.\n\nThe image of her naked body under mine is on a constant loop in my head.\n\n\"Um, maybe I was hoping that if I ran around with no shirt on, that you would check me out...did it work?\" I'm wondering if I pushed her too far again when she chuckles and shoves at me playfully. She doesn't respond straight away but the blush staining her cheeks lets me know that it worked. Good.\n\n\"So, where are you from?\" She wants to put our conversation back into safer territory. I can do that.\n\n\"Seattle, you?\" she takes a moment to think through her answer.\n\n\"San Francisco area. I was actually supposed to go to The University of Washington after I graduated High School.\" It's refreshing to see her relax a little bit, she always seems to be tense and on guard around me.\n\n\"No shit. That's where I went,\" her eyes light up and I can't help but wonder what would have happened if she went to the same college as me. Maybe she would have been more open to the idea of sleeping with me back then.\n\n\"Really?\" she beams up at me.\n\n\"Yes, really. How old are you?\" She doesn't seem that old but it's hard to tell, with this kind of job she has a lot of responsibilities so she couldn't be too young.\n\n\"Twenty-five, why?\" So, two years younger than me, I wonder why she didn't make it to college.\n\n\"I'm twenty-seven, so I would have just been starting my third year when you became a sexy freshman.\" My comment causes her to laugh. I love making her laugh.\n\n\"Please, you would have been far too distracted with all the hot senior girls to even notice a freshman like me.\" Does she really not understand how hot she is? Every man on the planet would sit up and take notice of her.\n\n\"Trust me, I would have noticed you,\" she wiggles in her seat like she's uncomfortable. \"Are you okay? Do you want me to get you a proper chair instead of sitting on this log?\" Please say no, this log is uncomfortable as fuck but I get to sit closer to her here than I would in a chair. I don't think she has paid attention to the fact that we have been drifting closer together as we talk, but I have.\n\n\"Huh? Oh, no, I'm good. Thanks,\" I'm going to take that as a good sign.\n\n\"So, why didn't you end up going to college?\" The light in her eyes dim and she's no longer smiling. Fuck. \"Sorry, you don't have to tell me that. It's none of my business,\" she looks like she's on the verge of tears. \"So, um, what's the deal with Fraser and Maria?\" She looks confused at first until she realizes that I'm giving her an out. She smiles up at me shyly before launching into a big story about Fraser and Maria and how they met.\n\nThe rest of the night flies by and I find myself enjoying her company. Maybe we really can be friends.\n\n# Chapter 16\n\n## Eva\n\nI'm confused. Last night was confusing.\n\nJason's confusing. I had him pegged as the typical rich boy, maybe he got in trouble and daddy paid a big donation to send him here to keep him out of his hair for a while. We have had a few of those and they are no picnic.\n\nBut Jason, he doesn't fit the mold of the typical volunteer out here. He almost seems...lost.\n\n\"Morning Eva,\" I look up startled to see Jason chuckling at me. Once again shirtless. At least this time he has shorts on, \"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you.\"\n\n\"No, it's fine. Just lost in thought is all,\" I send all my attention to the top of the coffee cup I'm holding, watching the warm brown liquid swirl around inside.\n\nDon't look up. Do not get caught staring at his chest again. It's better for my sanity to not engage.\n\n\"Can I join you?\" Damn he has a sexy voice and he looks so cute with his puppy dog eyes afraid I'm going to say no, but a girls got to do what a girls got to do.\n\n\"Sure,\" damn. That just came out, I was supposed to say no.\n\nHe sits down across from me at our small table, holding his own cup of coffee. At least the table cuts out part of his chest. We sit there in silence for a few minutes but it's not uncomfortable. It's peaceful. I find myself enjoying Jason's company and last night was no exception, he's a great guy. But that's dangerous territory.\n\nKnock, knock, knock.\n\nBefore either of us have a chance to respond, Fraser bursts through the door looking like the cat who got the cream. He pauses when he sees us sitting together.\n\n\"Oh, what's this? Did you guys have a night similar to mine?\" He is wiggling his eyebrows up and down suggestively.\n\n\"Huh?\" Is he asking if we slept together? That's just crazy talk.\n\n\"What?\" Both Jason and I reply at the same time. I try hard to keep my eyes trained on Fraser so that he doesn't read too much into Jason and I sitting and having coffee together.\n\nBecause it means nothing.\n\nAbsolutely nothing.\n\nFraser leans back on our kitchen bench and crosses his arms over his chest. He is bursting with excitement.\n\n\"I kissed Maria!\" He practically screams out his announcement, pumping his fist up in the air.\n\n\"Aaaaaaahhh!!\" I jump up and down then run the short distance to hug him. Jason is close behind me when I let go of Fraser. I can feel his chest rub up against my back so I stand to the side.\n\n\"Nice,\" they do that guy, half handshake, half hug thing.\n\n\"Thanks, man,\" Fraser seems pretty pleased with himself. I'm so happy for him.\n\n\"So, what happened? Where did it happen? Did she kiss you back? She did, kiss you back, right? How did s-\"\n\n\"Whoa, whoa, calm down there girly,\" Jason takes me by the shoulders and deposits me back in my chair, before sitting down in his own chair. I can feel my skin tingling from where he placed his hands on me. Luckily Fraser's voice snaps me out of my daze. I need to focus.\n\n\"Last night, after the bonfire, we walked back to our place, and I, well, I kissed her goodnight,\" he says it like its huge news.\n\n\"Tongue or peck?\" These details are important, sometimes I wish my best friend was a girl, at least then I would get a decent play by play.\n\n\"Peck,\" he says and I groan.\n\n\"Then what?\" He seems confused by my question but I'm trying to determine whether this is actually a big moment or whether he pecked her on the cheek and went on his merry way.\n\n\"What do you mean 'then what?', then we went to bed,\" that's it? I throw my hands up in the air, completely frustrated. How can he be this excited over just a peck?\n\n\"Dude,\" Jason is full on laughing at Fraser.\n\n\"What?!\" Fraser has gone from excited to on edge and I hate the fact that we ruined his little bubble of happiness, he has waited a long time for this.\n\n\"Jason, don't be mean. How did she seem this morning?\" For the sake of my friend I need to know if she is into him or there is going to be some serious heartbreak.\n\n\"I haven't seen her this morning, I came straight here,\" poor guy is starting to look worried, \"What'd I do?\"\n\n\"Bro, you should have used your tongue, maybe groped her ass a little,\" Jason is still shaking his head and laughing at Fraser as he makes his way into the bathroom and shuts the door. The shower starts up a few seconds later.\n\nFraser looks distraught and sits down in Jason's vacant spot.\n\n\"I stuffed up, didn't I?\" he groans before dropping his head into his hands, almost ripping his hair out in frustration.\n\n\"No sweetie, you didn't,\" it's sweet that he cares so much about her.\n\n\"Yes, I did. You use that same voice with the volunteers when they do something dumb.\" I do? I didn't know I had a 'voice'.\n\n\"Fraser, it's obvious that Jason's a player so ignore his advice. How did she respond to the kiss?\" I really want to know; this is exciting news and it's distracting me from the fact that Jason is naked in my shower.\n\n\"Good I think, I think maybe I caught her off guard but then she smiled at me,\" smiling is good, a smile is promising.\n\n\"Good, see that's good,\" I beam at my friend, so happy that he's happy.\n\n\"I really like her Eva,\" Fraser is blushing, he never blushes.\n\n\"Then go talk to her. If she says she likes you too then kiss her again but don't run straight here to tell me.\" I really hope this works out for him, I really like Maria and the fact that she's a staff member makes things a lot easier. It means she won't leave at the end of it all. Like Jason will.\n\n\"I didn't run straight here, I waited until this morning,\" now he is getting defensive. Jason comes out of the bathroom so I stand up to go and take my own shower.\n\n\"Fraser, just go talk to her, tell her how you feel,\" and please let her feel the same way, I have a feeling she's a keeper.\n\n\"Yeah, then make the relationship official with some hot sex,\" Jason winks at me then runs into his bedroom before I get the chance to slap him. Jerk.\n\n\"Just go talk to her, then find me later and tell me how it went,\" I disappear into the bathroom as Fraser yells out to me.\n\n\"Okay, love you.\"\n\n\"Love you too!\"\n\n# Chapter 17\n\n## Jason\n\nIt's been a few days since Eva and Fraser told each other 'I love you' and I'm still obsessing over that fact.\n\nWho does that?\n\nThey are only friends so why say 'I love you' to each other. If he wasn't so worked up over that stupid kiss with Maria I'd be pissed. Wait. Pissed? Me? I don't get pissed off over girls.\n\nMind you, I'm not normally friends with girls either. That would require spending time with them and I'm more of a love em and leave em kinda guy.\n\nSpeaking of, the girl I want to give some loving too is in the shower so I quickly get changed and head out to start my day. I almost prefer when she was showering in the middle of the day, at least that way, I didn't stare at the bathroom door like a lost puppy.\n\nI find that good, hard physical labor helps to distract me from the image of her naked body, dripping wet and covered in soap. She's probably lathering her breasts right now, I wonder if she pushes the bar of soap between her thighs of if she soaps her hand then touches- nope, stop it.\n\nIt's time to work and I can't do that with a hard on.\n\nSince I'm here for three months I have been shadowing Neil, he wants me up to speed quickly so that I can start helping out with the other volunteers.\n\nAll of the buildings are pre-fabricated and get dropped off by trucks that come from Johannesburg. So, all we have to do is put the framing together and we are half way there.\n\nSounds easy, right? Well, not so much. Neil gave me a nail gun to use which is a hell of a lot faster than using a hammer but I'm not sure which is safer. Although, at least now my thumbs get a break, I swear in the first few days I hit my hand more times than the actual ply boards.\n\nWhen I'm not working with Neil, I'm shadowing Patrick, they're both incredible and as it turns out, a couple. Which makes sense as to why I'm sharing a room with Eva and not one of those guys.\n\nPatrick is a plumber by trade and Neil a builder but you would swear they had both done actual trades in every area of construction, they know everything.\n\nEach day my mood is improving along with my skill, I don't like being bad at something and I have never felt as useless as my first day here, when I picked up a hammer for the first time in my life.\n\nI'm kinda glad that Eva chose to avoid me to start with, I would have been pretty embarrassed if she was hanging around and watching me work. Right now, I would only be slightly embarrassed.\n\nEva stopped avoiding me a few days ago, right after the bonfire, we are trying to work on our friendship. Friendship. I roll my eyes just thinking about that word but right now, that's what Eva wants so friendship is what Eva gets.\n\nI need to reload my nail gun but when I reach into my tool belt I realize I'm all out, \"I'm going to get some more nails.\"\n\n\"Sure thing,\" I love working with Neil, he doesn't say much but is a really great guy. I make my way over to one of the supply containers, they are normally locked with a combination padlock but this one has one of its doors slightly ajar. Someone must be in there, hopefully Eva.\n\nJust then I hear moaning. What the hell?\n\nSounds like someone is doing it in the supply container. Wait. I haven't seen Eva since breakfast. I see red. She better not be fucking someone else when she won't even give me the time of day.\n\nI rip the door the rest of the way open, spilling light onto the couple. Thankfully the couple is fully dressed...and it's not Eva.\n\nWhat's even better is that it's Fraser, with Maria.\n\nHe has her up on some of the boxes, standing between her legs, grinding into her. Sucking on her neck, with one hand on her breast. Her head is back, she's moaning loudly and is in the process of removing Fraser's shirt when she realizes they are no longer alone.\n\nShe freezes, trying to push Fraser off her and close her legs. \"Maria, baby, what are you doing?\" I can't help it, I laugh. Loudly.\n\nFraser finally understands and jumps away from Maria, knocking into some of the other boxes as there isn't a lot of space in here. I nod in Fraser's direction.\n\n\"Fraser, good to know things are going well between you and Maria,\" Maria blushes fiercely and Fraser looks pretty pleased with himself, \"Well, carry on,\" with that, I turn and leave the container, shutting the door firmly behind me.\n\nI need to find Eva. Now.\n\nI find her a few minutes later in the kitchen, helping with lunch prep, \"Eva, I need to talk to you.\"\n\n\"Just give me a minute to finish up here,\" it's nice that my voice doesn't cause her to tense and get all pissy anymore but I hate that fact that I'm starting to like her more and more.\n\n\"Okay, but make it quick,\" I walk back outside and head around the back of the building, hoping this way we will get a few minutes of privacy. I'm actually pretty jealous of Fraser, I would love to be going at it with Eva in one of the supply containers. Or anywhere really.\n\n\"What's up?\" Eva stands in front of me with her hands on her hips, looking impatient. She's so cute when she's mad. I also love it when she stands like that as it pushes her tits out, giving me a nice view.\n\nShe must realize I'm checking her out as she crosses her arms over her chest and starts tapping her foot on the ground. \"What did you drag me out here for? I have work to do.\"\n\n\"Fine, if you're going to be like that, then I won't tell you what I just saw.\" Her hands drop to her sides and her eyes narrow slightly, it's like she is trying to decide if I'm playing a game with her and if she wants to play along with me.\n\n\"What did you see?\" I guess her curiosity won out, she looks intrigued.\n\n\"Fraser and Maria practically going at it in one of the supply containers,\" her eyes widen in surprise and a huge smile slowly spreads across her face.\n\n\"That bastard! I knew he was hiding something from me. Taking it slow my ass!\" Just then Fraser runs up to us, out of breath and looking panicked.\n\n\"You told her?\" Why is he angry about this, I'm surprised he hadn't told her about it himself seeing as not so long ago he burst into our place to tell us he pecked her on the lips.\n\n\"Of course, I told her,\" I deadpan. Fraser curses under his breath and then turns to Eva.\n\n\"Look Eva, I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but Maria has it in her head that it's unprofessional that we hook up while at work. She was scared you would lose respect for her,\" that is about the stupidest thing I think I have ever heard.\n\n\"What!\" Eva looks incredulous, \"That's insane. I don't care that you two are hooking up, I'm happy for you both.\"\n\n\"So, you don't think two people hooking up at work is being unprofessional?\" I can't help but ask.\n\n\"No. Of course not,\" she looks at me like she can't believe I would say such a thing.\n\n\"So, you're all for it?\" I'm goading her into a corner and I'm enjoying the hell out of it.\n\n\"Yes, I mean Neil and Patrick are a couple,\" I smirk before winking at her.\n\n\"Good to know,\" her face turns bright red, I love it when she blushes. It's adorable. She turns her attention back to Fraser, trying to cut me out of the conversation with her body language so I step in closer to her.\n\n\"Fraser, I'll talk to her for you okay. Tell her that the two of you being in a relationship is fine, that it won't impact on her position here at all,\" Fraser sighs in relief.\n\n\"Thanks, I mean, I knew you would be cool but Maria freaked out at being caught and I just, well, you know. Anyway, I should go find her,\" he runs off before either of us get a chance to say anything.\n\nWhich just leaves Eva and I together. She is clearly uncomfortable and looks like she is close to bolting now that we are alone. I lean down and whisper in her ear. \"See you tonight, Eva,\" a shiver racks through her body. I let my fingers brush against her wrist, slowly rising higher until the back of my hand brushes against her breast. She lets out a whimper. Holy fuck. I think she's turned on. Shit, I need to leave before this backfires. I take one last longing look at her breasts heaving in her small tank top before walking away.\n\nWhat the fuck has gotten into me?\n\n# Chapter 18\n\n## Eva\n\nI am busting to go to the toilet. So, so busting. I've tried to leave twice already but this particular group of volunteers are a chatty bunch, I finally see an opening to make my escape and I take it, not looking back.\n\nNeil asked me to cover for him during wash up duty tonight and now I see why, that took twice as long as it normally does. I guess hard physical labor doesn't exhaust these people like it does most.\n\nWhen I get back to my place I run straight into the bathroom and run directly into Jason.\n\n\"Whoa girl, where's the fire?\" I cross my legs and start hoping.\n\n\"I need to pee, please, please, please...holy fuck, you're naked,\" my urge to pee is forgotten when I take in a freshly showered Jason.\n\nHot damn he is fine, I thought he looked good in his underwear and a towel hung low on his hips but fuck me, he is nothing short of a god.\n\nHe just happens to be hung like one too, why couldn't he be ugly. It would be so much easier to ignore my urges if this man wasn't sex on a stick.\n\nFraser is right, if I had sex more then this wouldn't be happening to me. I can't stop staring.\n\n\"You still need to pee?\" Did he just say something to me?\n\n\"Huh?\" I look up and realize that I have been staring at his penis for an embarrassing length of time. My whole body instantly catches fire, I am mortified, I can't believe I just did that. Again.\n\nJason's smug look isn't helping matters either but it does piss me off. Good, anger is good, I can use anger.\n\n\"I'll leave you to it,\" did he really just walk away from me? No hitting on me, no smart comment about catching me checking him out, seriously? He just left?\n\nI take longer than I need to in the bathroom but at least my bladder is happy. I decide to make a dignified exit and hold my head up high while I walk to my room in case Jason is still loitering.\n\nThat plan quickly backfires when I walk out of the bathroom to see Jason is still naked, in the kitchen.\n\n\"What are you doing?\" My voice is all high pitched and squeaky, I hate that he affects me so much. I can feel my pussy tingling with need but I shove that thought down real far.\n\n\"Getting a drink,\" that's not exactly what I meant and he knows it.\n\n\"Why are you still naked?\" I'm never going to be able to get to sleep now, he has me so worked up and I refuse to go there.\n\n\"Well it's hot and you were enjoying the view, I didn't want to spoil all the fun you were having,\" urgh, what an ass. Bedroom...now. Before you do something you will regret. Stop checking him out.\n\nMy words of encouragement work and I manage to walk normally to my bedroom door. \"You should try it some time?\"\n\n\"Try what?\" Damn it, why did I have to turn around? Now I'm staring at his dick again.\n\n\"Being naked, with me, it could be fun,\" I turn back around, \"Hey now, that's no fair, you got to have a good peek at my goods, when do I get to have a peek at yours?\"\n\n\"You want a peek?\" I face Jason again, ready to give him a piece of his own medicine.\n\n\"Fuck yeah, I want a peek, are you kidding?\" It's taking all my concentration to keep my eyes on his face and not let them rove all over his body again.\n\n\"Okay, fine,\" I place my hands on the bottom of my singlet, slowly lifting it up my body seductively, pausing when I get to the bottom of my breasts.\n\nThis was a mistake; I had no actual intention of showing him anything but the smoldering look he is giving me is making me want to.\n\nMy eyes drift lower of their own accord and when I see his rather large erection pointing in my direction it snaps me out of my daze, I run into my bedroom, slamming the door behind me and I curl up in bed.\n\nI'm not sure what's wrong with me or why I am so dead set against sleeping with him, I'm not the fling type but maybe I could be? Maybe I could sleep with him while he's here and then say goodbye to him like it's no big deal.\n\nOr...I could get my heart broken and be just another notch on his bedpost.\n\n# Chapter 19\n\n## Jason\n\nIt's been a few days since Eva saw me naked and I have noticed her giving me the side eye on occasion to try and catch another glimpse.\n\nTonight is the bonfire, Eva had a couple of drinks which has made her tipsy and according to Fraser, she hardly ever drinks.\n\nI'm being a gentleman by escorting her back to our place but really, I have an ulterior motive for bringing her back early, I snagged a pack of cards from one of the storage containers the other day when the idea came to me, I just hope she goes for it.\n\nWe head inside and Eva goes straight to the bathroom, which gives me a chance to run and get the cards. I'm sitting at the table shuffling them when Eva walks out of the bathroom, \"What are you doing?\" Good, she's intrigued.\n\n\"Thought we could play a few rounds of cards before bed since it's still early,\" to my surprise and utter delight she exclaims that she loves playing cards and sits down opposite me.\n\n\"What did you want to play?\" she asks. Here goes nothing.\n\n\"Strip poker,\" her whole-body tenses and I think maybe I took it a bit too far; I never know where I stand with her. Some days I think she's into me and wants me as much as I want her, then other days it's like I have some sort of disease. I can tell she is waging some internal war with herself so I give her time to think, shuffling the cards and then dealing our first hand.\n\nShe stares at the cards as if they are a ticking time bomb but then all of a sudden, she jumps up and runs to her room. Fuck, there goes that idea. I'll have to think of something else.\n\nJust when I'm about to admit defeat and pack the cards up she appears with about ten extra layers on. I burst out laughing when I see her, girl is too much, I think she is wearing about four singlets, two pairs of shorts, a couple of hats and two pairs of socks.\n\n\"What?\" She is so cute standing there, obviously still hesitant to play with me even though she has the upper hand. Too bad I am damn good at poker.\n\n\"Nothing, sit down, you know the rules?\" She sits down and nods her head, biting nervously on her bottom lip.\n\nCountless rounds later and I am down to my underwear, one round away from losing but Eva, well she is also down to her underwear, sitting in front of me in just her bra and panties.\n\nThe table blocks my view of her lower half but that's alright because I could stare at her upper half for hours. She is wearing a plain bra, nothing fancy about it but very practical and surprisingly very sexy.\n\nThat's how she managed to get my shorts off me in the last round, I was too distracted staring at her tits spilling over the edges of the cups.\n\nI'm all business this round though, determined to get at least some jerk off material out of her tonight, it's pretty clear I won't be getting anything else from her.\n\nFunnily enough, that doesn't bother me, I have come to really enjoy Eva's company and I can't wait until she is ready to give me what I want.\n\n\"Full house,\" I place my cards down on the table and she lets out a dramatic 'noooooo', I on the other hand am grinning like a fool, one more round and she will be naked.\n\nI don't know why but she seems indecisive over something, \"What's wrong?\"\n\n\"Just wondering what piece of clothing I should take off,\" bra, definitely bra, if she takes her panties off I won't be able to see anything unless I peer under the table and I'm no creep.\n\n\"Take off whatever you want sweetheart, you're going to lose that last piece in the next round anyway,\" she seems to have made her mind up and goes for her bra, slipping it off and managing to cover up at the same time, crafty woman.\n\nShe looks damn sexy sitting there topless with her hands covering her breasts, I take a few minutes admiring the view before speaking, \"It's your turn to deal,\" she mutters fuck under her breath then reaches for the cards while trying to keep herself covered at the same time, doesn't work though and I get to see some of those glorious pink and perky nipples. \"Eva, just deal, I've already seen them and trust me, you have nothing to worry about,\" she pauses in her shuffling to look up at me.\n\n\"What do you mean by that?\" I can't understand how she can be this insecure, the girl is insanely beautiful, doesn't she know that?\n\n\"I mean, you shouldn't try to cover yourself up, you're beautiful,\" she seems taken aback by my words but they must be what she wants to hear as she sits up straighter and starts dealing.\n\nDistracted is an understatement for how I'm feeling, my dick is straining against my underwear and I'm finding it hard to concentrate. Doesn't help that she found my weakness and started touching her breasts between her turns, little minx.\n\nNot surprisingly she wins the last round but I am the real winner since she jumps up exclaiming victory and does a little jig. Her tits are jiggling up and down and I manage to catch a glimpse of her perk little butt cheeks hanging out of her panties when she spins around.\n\n\"I win! I win! Pants off mister,\" oh I'll take my pants off alright. I drop my underwear and stand up, walking over to stand directly in front of her having her little victory party.\n\nShe obviously didn't think I would have a full-blown erection; her expression is priceless and I'm tempted to kiss her. Her breathing has gotten heavy and her eyes are glued to my junk but I don't move, I want her to really want me. I don't want her waking up and regretting her decision because once I get inside of her, I will only want her a whole lot more.\n\n\"Congrats on the win but I'll be wanting a rematch,\" I give her a soft slap on the butt before spinning on my heels and going to my room, praying she will follow me.\n\nShe doesn't.\n\n# Chapter 20\n\n## Eva\n\nWe're into our third week of the project and we are making good progress. Even Jason is making good progress. Well, with his building skills, not so much with me.\n\nHe has been flirting heavily with me but keeps maintaining we are just friends. I'm not so sure that guys flirt with girls like that if they are just friends.\n\nOh, who I am kidding, he wants me and I kinda want him back. If we were in the normal world, I would probably go for it, the only thing really holding me back is the fact that we only have just over two more months together.\n\nThat's the problem with working at a place like this, the people who come here and help out, do amazing things for the local people and make wonderful memories but then they go home. And we stay here.\n\nI don't want to be just that girl he slept with while he was volunteering in Africa. I want to be more than a story, but more is impossible.\n\nSo instead, I put up with his flirting and test my will power. Which is definitely getting tested this week.\n\nThis lot of volunteers, contains a girl named Amber. Amber has short blonde hair, big fake breasts, that I might add are always somehow pointed at Jason's face, fake tan and the most annoying laugh, she sounds like a hyena.\n\nJason and I started to have lunch together back at our place, we don't talk much, but it's nice. We use it as a break away from the others since we eat breakfast and dinner with them, as well as spending all day together and it can be a bit much sometimes.\n\nBut the last few days. Well, the last few days, Amber has been hanging all over him and I have eaten lunch alone.\n\nI've also been too scared to go get anything from the supply containers, after Jason caught Fraser and Maria in there, I really don't want to be caught in the same position.\n\nBut walking in to see Jason and Amber together. The thought shouldn't get me so worked up but it does. He could be sleeping with her and I wouldn't even know.\n\n\"What's with the frown?\" I jump with fright, not realizing there was anyone else nearby.\n\n\"Huh?\" I look over to see Jason staring at me, I look past him and am fascinated by the fact that Amber isn't lurking behind him.\n\n\"Who are you looking for?\" he asks. That tart that seems to be following you around everywhere, instead I decide to go with something a little less volatile.\n\n\"Your bosom buddy, Amber,\" I try to keep the disdain out of my voice as much as possible but I think I fail. Jason is trying to keep a smile off his face. I think my anger amuses him.\n\n\"Bosom buddy?\" He doesn't manage to keep his cool and bursts out laughing. I however, don't see what's so funny.\n\n\"Yes, bosom buddy. You know, intimate friend, always together,\" I turn my back on him so that he can't see me rolling my eyes. But he grabs my arm and pulls me back to face him.\n\n\"She's not my bosom buddy, the only person I want as a bosom buddy is you,\" maybe that used to be true but this week he has barely flirted with me at all. I am so pathetic. I am literally getting upset because someone else has his attention, this is what I wanted, for him to leave me alone.\n\nIt doesn't feel as good as it should.\n\n\"There you are! I was looking everywhere for you!\" Fucking Amber and her stupid high-pitched voice.\n\n\"Sure,\" I turn around and stalk off before he can see the hurt in my eyes. I try my best to block out their conversation as I walk over to the lunch hall.\n\nOnce again, I eat alone in my room.\n\n# Chapter 21\n\n## Jason\n\nEva is jealous over Amber.\n\nI'm not into Amber at all, but I am into the fact that Eva gets so jealous around her. Maybe she will get so jealous that she will stake her claim on me. I hope so, because this bitch is driving me insane.\n\nI haven't been able to have lunch with Eva since she got here. I always try to sneak away from her, but it's like she attached a GPS tracker onto me somewhere, she just fucking pops up out of nowhere.\n\nLast night she made a suggestive comment about how we should go for a 'walk' while everyone was at the bonfire. Even winked and rubbed her tits over my chest just in case I didn't understand her subtle hint. The old me would have jumped at the chance to fuck her. But the old me hadn't met Eva.\n\nI haven't wanted to date a girl in a long time. Probably because every girl I tried to date didn't get the stamp of approval from my father, he just got rid of them if he thought they weren't good enough so it was better not to get attached.\n\nMost of them he could scare off with words or threats, one time he paid a chick twenty grand to leave me alone and another one, well let's just say I got sent some disturbing pics of them...together.\n\nI ended that one pretty quickly. Took me a while to shake her as well. Crazy bitch. I dodged a bullet with that one.\n\nAll the other girls I dated were because they were considered 'appropriate' by my father or he wanted something from one of their fathers. According to Douglas Harrington, dating was a game of strategy.\n\nBut Eva hadn't been tainted by that world. My world. She wouldn't fit in there. To be honest, I don't really know if I fit in there anymore either. I don't think I have for a while but didn't realize until now.\n\n\"Penny for your thoughts?\" I look up to see Maria smiling at me. We're doing the lunch prep together and it's one of the rare occasions this week that Amber hasn't been with me.\n\n\"Just thinking about Eva,\" she seems to take up most of my thoughts these days, and my dreams, at least in my dreams I get to fuck her, daily.\n\n\"Ahhh, I see,\" she smiles knowingly.\n\n\"What do you see?\" please don't say me pining after someone that I can never have.\n\n\"Well, I see the two of you together and its obvious you guys like each other,\" she thinks that Eva likes me?\n\n\"Really?\" my heart starts to burn and I rub at my chest. I have been feeling that a lot lately. Not sure I enjoy it.\n\n\"Yes, really. Just keep at her, she has had a hard life and puts walls up around herself so she won't get hurt. You're nearly there,\" she's had a hard life? I don't like the sound of that.\n\n\"Nearly there?\" I really don't follow with that part.\n\n\"To get Eva in your bed,\" what the fuck? She laughs at me, \"Don't act so surprised, I'm not as quiet as you think. Although, I will say this, Eva wants to be more than just your bed buddy,\" I sigh. I think I stopped just wanting to fuck her a while ago, somewhere along the way she became important to me.\n\n\"I want more too,\" I'm surprised by a hard slap to my back.\n\n\"Well, good. Cos, otherwise I would have had to kick your ass,\" I look over my shoulder to see Fraser eating an apple with a shit eating grin on his face.\n\n\"You could help me you know,\" the irritation is clear in my voice.\n\n\"Trust me, I am helping,\" like fuck he is helping, he is too busy with Maria now that they are a couple. It's like he forgot about the rest of us wanting a happy ending too.\n\n\"Helping with what?\" Shit. Eva just walked in. How much did she hear?\n\n\"Lunch prep,\" at least Fraser is good for something even if he is a shitty liar.\n\n\"Yeah, you look like you are working real hard,\" Fraser takes her under his arm and noogies her head, those two act like siblings. I can't believe I thought they were a couple when I first got here.\n\n\"As a matter of fact, I was just coming in to take over for Jason. The ditzy blonde is distracted by Jabu at the moment and he wants to make a clean escape so he can eat lunch with you,\" Smooth bastard. I drop what I am doing and take the two sandwiches that Maria is holding out in one hand. I grab Eva's hand in mine and drag her out of the hall, not stopping until we are tucked away safely at our place with the door firmly closed.\n\nAnd locked.\n\n# Chapter 22\n\n## Eva\n\nI don't feel like I have been asleep very long when I wake up needing to go to the bathroom, I stumble half asleep out my bedroom door.\n\nAs I'm walking across the room, I notice Jason's door is wide open and the moon is shining through his bedroom window, illuminating his figure.\n\nHe is sleeping on top of his sheet, one hand resting behind his head and the other is inside his underwear. That's all he's wearing.\n\nI take a moment to fully appreciate his body without the thought of someone catching me in the act. He really is beautiful. He seems like a different person than when he first arrived here, so cocky and self-assured. It's been nice getting to know this version of him.\n\nJust then his hand that is in his underwear starts to move, I freeze. Is he awake? He looks like he is gripping his shaft and pumping up and down, that can't be right.\n\nI feel my nipples tighten as I watch him. Is he having a dream? I find myself flushing, thinking he might be dreaming about me. I tear my eyes off his movement for just a moment to look at his face.\n\nShit.\n\nHis eyes are open.\n\nHe's awake.\n\nAnd he's looking straight at me.\n\nI'm stuck between watching him, joining him in bed or running away. My body has decided not to cooperate with my mind and it does nothing.\n\nI just stand there, watching him. I'm not sure what to do, part of me wants to join him but another part, an even bigger part is screaming that I'm not ready yet. That I'm starting to develop real feelings for this man, a man that will be leaving in two months.\n\nMy mind finally wins out and I walk back to my room, shut the door and lie down on my bed. I never did go to the bathroom, but now I'm too chicken to go out there, afraid if I do, I won't be able to walk past his door a second time.\n\nThe following morning, I wake up later than usual, surprisingly I had a good sleep, a very good sleep.\n\nI dreamt of Jason, of us, together. I smile thinking about it, maybe I was too hasty to go back to my room last night.\n\nI jump up almost desperate now that I remember I never did go back to use the bathroom. Once again Jason's bedroom door is open but this time he isn't lying on his bed, he isn't in the bathroom either.\n\nI sigh, thinking that maybe this is for the best. Maybe we are just better off just being friends, it would save inevitable heart break down the road.\n\nWell, it would save my heart at least.\n\n# Chapter 23\n\n## Eva\n\n\"Can you believe her?\" When Fraser doesn't respond I look over to make sure he heard me. But I see him rolling his eyes instead, \"What?\"\n\n\"No, no. Go ahead. Tell me what she has done, _this time_ ,\" I scoff. I haven't been complaining about her...that much.\n\n\"Whatever. Just look at her. She is blatantly sticking her boobs in his face. Look, look, now she's bending over. Who bends over like that to pick up some nails?\" she is completely desperate; I don't know how men can find someone like that attractive.\n\n\"A hot chick?\" He is currently squatting down finishing off some stairs so I kick him with my foot, knocking him off balance, \"Oomph,\" he stands up, clearly irritated with me. \"What was that for?\" No, Fraser does not get to be mad at me when I'm mad at him.\n\n\"You're supposed to be on my side,\" great. Now I sound like a whining five-year-old.\n\n\"If it makes you feel any better, he checks your ass out all the time,\" he does? I try to hide the fact that that excites me.\n\n\"Really?\" Fraser just shakes his head and I realize my excitement over that piece of information was clearly obvious. It's just Jason has been here for three weeks and during the first two weeks he was hanging around me like a bad smell trying to sleep with me. Now little miss blonde tits just follows him around everywhere with googly eyes and I get nothing.\n\n\"You're jealous,\" I am insanely jealous.\n\n\"What? No, I'm not,\" I'm a big fat liar too. He gives me the side eye, \"Okay, I'm jealous. Help me. What do I do?\"\n\n\"Go over there,\" how is that a good idea, that's a stupid plan.\n\n\"Just go over there? That's your masterplan?\" I should find Maria. Even Neil or Patrick would give me better advice. I start looking around for someone more intelligent.\n\n\"Yes. It's pretty simple. He likes you. You're obviously jealous over Amber so just go over there. All his attention will be back to you and everyone will be happy. Maybe then some of us will actually get some work done,\" that last part was said under his breath but I heard him anyway. Jerk. \"Anyway, these stairs are finished, so...see ya.\"\n\nHe's gone before I can protest and now I'm standing here staring at Jason and Amber. I was doing that already but at least before I could pretend I was only talking to Fraser. Now I look like a stalker.\n\nAmber giggles.\n\nScrew it, I'm going in.\n\n\"Hey Jason. _Amber_. How are you guys going over here?\" I make sure to give all my attention to Jason. I'm going for super petty today.\n\n\"Hey babe,\" babe? Jason surprises me by putting one arm around my back in a half hug and presses his lips to mine with a soft kiss.\n\nHoly shit.\n\nHe kissed me.\n\nJason kissed me. I'm trying to form words but all that leaves my mouth is air. Amber huffs before stalking off. I don't look to see where she went. I don't care. His other arm goes around me and he kisses me again, \"Thanks for that.\"\n\nMy body is on fire for this man.\n\n\"Th-, thanks for, um, what?\" He pulls me closer to his body and mine thrums with excitement.\n\n\"For getting rid of Amber, she was driving me insane.\" I can feel his eyes penetrating mine, the heat in them is unmistakable. I lick my lips and that's all it takes.\n\nHis mouth crashes down on mine. My hands start exploring his body at their own will. Jason's tongue is probing my lips so I grant him entrance, moaning when our tongues collide.\n\nOne of his hands goes to my hair while his other hand slips lower, sliding over my backside and roughly grabbing my butt cheek, bringing our centers together. I can feel his erection digging into my stomach and it only serves to turn me on more.\n\nHis groans are beginning to matching my own. I start to bring my leg up around his hip when I hear cat calls. We both freeze.\n\nSlowly, I pull back from Jason and turn my head to the side. Jabu and some of the other villages are fixing a roof to one of the houses nearby. They are whistling and clapping but I have no idea what they are saying. Jabu must read my mind as he calls out.\n\n\"They are saying, 'about time lovebirds',\" I look back at Jason but he just shrugs.\n\n\"Let's go get some lunch,\" lunch? My face is on fire. I am so humiliated. I can't believe I just made out with Jason in front of everyone...like a horny teenager. I take a step back ready to blot, \"Whoa there. Don't go running from me now,\" his arms are back around me, pulling me towards him, \"Not when I finally got a taste,\" I start spluttering, trying to form a sentence. \"Come on, let's go back to our place,\" that snaps me out of it.\n\n\"No way!\" His brows come together in confusion.\n\n\"Why not?\" he asks.\n\nUm, because if we disappear now it will only create a huge amount of gossip.\n\n\"Because everyone will think we are going to have sex,\" and if we go back to our place, that's what will most likely happen.\n\n\"So?\" his smile is devious. He leans back down and kisses me again. I take a moment to savor his kiss before stepping away.\n\n\"I'm project lead, I can't just step away during the day to have sex. There's work to be done,\" there, that's the perfect excuse.\n\n\"Okay,\" he picks up his hammer, turns around and starts working. Totally not what I was expecting him to do.\n\n\"Um, what are you doing?\" I at least expected him to try a little bit harder to sleep with me.\n\n\"Working,\" he grins at me over his shoulder. Smartass.\n\n\"I can see that but why?\" was I a bad kisser? Has he lost interest in me now?\n\n\"It's pretty simple really,\" he stands in front of me leaning down to whisper in my ear. \"You're the project lead and you need to be respected. I get that. But if I'm going to be honest it's because you finally admitted that you want to have sex with me,\" I scoff, that's not entirely true.\n\n\"No, I didn't,\" but I think I want too now.\n\n\"Yes, you did. See you tonight,\" he gives me a wink, squeezes my butt cheek and kisses my forehead softly before once again, going back to work.\n\nI'm standing there, frozen, my feet refusing to move. My brain is trying to decide whether I say screw it, grab Jason and head back to our room or whether I should do some actual work today.\n\n\"Told you,\" is whispered in my ear and I jump about a foot in the air, my heart racing a million miles an hour. Fraser is snickering behind me, \"Need help man?\" He walks straight past me.\n\nSome friend, throwing me under the bus like that.\n\n\"Yeah, sure. Thanks,\" The two of them just carry on working while I'm still standing here looking like an idiot, willing my legs to move.\n\n# Chapter 24\n\n## Jason\n\nThat kiss. Fuck, that kiss. I thought I was addicted before, but now, now I know I'm addicted. I need more. One kiss was just not enough.\n\nIt took all my willpower not to drag her back to my room and make love to her. Make love to her? Seriously? Fuck, I'm turning into a pussy. If my friends could see me now, they would be giving me hell. But seriously, I need inside her and soon.\n\nI bide my time over the next few days, waiting for Amber to leave. She is even more annoying now that I know for sure Eva is into me. I hide away while everyone says goodbye to this round of volunteers.\n\nEva will be watching and I'm scared Amber will try give me a goodbye kiss or something. The last thing I want to do is piss Eva off.\n\nOnce they are gone, I notice Eva go to hop into the Land Rover, it's one of those cool old school looking Defender models and it's normally used for picking up supplies in Simunye.\n\nI race over to her before she can take off, \"Going somewhere?\" She jumps before turning around with her hand over her heart.\n\n\"Jason, you scared me.\" That's because I didn't want you to leave without me, but I don't say that, I don't want to come across as a sap.\n\n\"Sorry, I didn't mean to, where are you going?\" and can you take me with you?\n\n\"Into Simunye, I need to pick up some more supplies and be back in time to greet the new round of volunteers,\" hmmmm, hours of alone time with Eva, sounds perfect.\n\n\"Can I come?\" My hands are in my pockets and I'm rocking back and forth on my heels like a high school kid asking a girl to prom. There is something seriously wrong with my game.\n\n\"Sure, that would be nice,\" nice? Well I'll be damned. I jump in the passenger seat before she can change her mind, excited to get on the road.\n\nWe sit in a comfortable silence for most of the way there. I catch her sneaking glances my way and to be honest, I'm doing the exact same thing to her. It's just like she said, it's nice.\n\n\"You look happy today,\" I glance over at Eva, surprised by her comment.\n\n\"I am happy,\" mostly it's because of her but I don't say that.\n\n\"It's just that, well, you looked kind of pissed off when you first arrived, like you were angry at the world...\" She trails off, I give her a few seconds to finish her sentence but I realize she isn't going to.\n\n\"I was,\" she doesn't respond to my comment and I don't really know what to say either, I don't want to dive into my personal life with her, so we go back to the comfortable silence thing.\n\nExcept this time, I reach over and take her hand in mine. She doesn't pull away, which is a small victory and we sit like that for the rest of the drive.\n\nI continue to hold her hand while we walk around Simunye, picking up what we need to. I only let go when we need to carry things to the truck. It's nice. I've never really held a girl's hand before but I like it. I like Eva.\n\nI take her out to lunch while we are there, pretending in my head that it's an actual date.\n\nWhen it's time for us to leave I notice a sports store and pause, \"Hey Eva, how come I haven't seen any of the kids in the village playing any games or anything. I mean, I see them running around but it's just them, no football or anything,\" she gives me a sad look in return.\n\n\"That's because they don't have any sports equipment. We're hoping to get some funding when the school is up and running, but unfortunately for the kids, the practical things get priority,\" fuck. What an idiot. I can't believe I didn't even realize that.\n\nI walk across the street, Eva trailing after me asking what I'm doing. I can't respond to her; I feel too ashamed with myself. I walk into the store and start grabbing balls at random.\n\n\"They like soccer,\" Eva is trailing behind me, looking at me with curiosity.\n\n\"What?\" who is she talking about?\n\n\"The kids, they like soccer. They often kick around an old drink bottle or something pretending to be David Beckham,\" she's holding up a soccer ball as she says this.\n\n\"Okay, get them all,\" my statement has shocked her, she is staring at me with her mouth open, frozen in place.\n\n\"What?\" surely, she can grasp what I'm trying to do here.\n\n\"Buy them all,\" I try not to sound like a dick because I'm not mad at her, I'm mad at myself. Here I am with more money than I know what to do with and these kids don't even have a ball to kick around.\n\n\"But there are like five soccer balls here. Jason, it's a sweet idea but The Housing Project can't fund this yet,\" I never asked her for any money.\n\n\"The Housing Project isn't funding this, I am. Get the damn soccer balls, and anything else you can think of that they will like,\" I don't mean to snap at her. I look up to apologize and pause when I see the tears in her eyes.\n\nShe reaches up on her toes to kiss me. I expect a soft peck but instead it turns forceful, passionate and almost urgent.\n\nAll too soon she pulls back, looking around embarrassed that she forgot herself in a sports store. I can't help but laugh and she gives me a shy smile in return.\n\nFuck, this woman, she's something else alright.\n\nWe have finished loading up the Land Rover full of sports supplies and Eva stops me before I hop in the passenger seat.\n\n\"You are an amazing man, Jason Bourke,\" my chest tightens painfully. No one has ever said that to me and meant it. She lifts up onto her toes to press a gentle kiss to my cheek before walking around and hoping into the driver's side.\n\nWe spend the whole trip back hand in hand.\n\nIt's perfect.\n\n# Chapter 25\n\n## Eva\n\nThe next week flies by and it's been so much better than I thought it would be, Jason has been incredible.\n\nHe spends about an hour each day playing football or soccer or whatever else the kids want to play. That's the favorite part of my day. Jason running around, shirtless.\n\nAnother positive this week is that there wasn't anyone even remotely attractive in the new volunteer group. I have been silently hoping that it remains that way for the next two months. Two months. I hate being reminded that Jason is only here temporarily.\n\n\"Hey babe, what's up?\" Jason has his arm around my shoulder and gives me a kiss on the side of my head.\n\nThat's the other thing about Jason, since our trip to Simunye, he has been really affectionate but doesn't push for anything to happen. It's like he is content with how things are going.\n\n\"Just putting a sign together for the Church. What about you?\" I try to focus on what I am doing but I can never seem to focus on anything when Jason is hanging around.\n\n\"Patrick needs some more wire,\" that doesn't really explain what he's doing.\n\n\"Oh, so you're his errand boy now,\" I say with a teasing tone of voice.\n\n\"No, I volunteered. Wanted to see my favorite girl on the way,\" next thing I know his lips are on mine, my hands are in his hair and his hands seem to be everywhere all at once, I give his hair a small tug and Jason groans. \"Fuck, baby, you know I love it when you do that,\" his response turns me on and I drag him closer to my body. His hands slide lower, grabbing my bottom and squeezing hard. \"This is my favorite thing in the whole world,\" I whimper slightly when his lips leave mine again.\n\nHe whispers 'later' in my ear and walks away backwards. Winking at my stunned expression before turning around and disappearing from my sight, meanwhile I stand there like an idiot trying to get my breathing under control.\n\n\"Would you like me to fan you?\" I look over to see Fraser's smug expression. I turn and hit him before concentrating on my sign once again, ignoring him. \"Oh, come on, you look beyond flustered. Have you slept with him yet?\" I blush heavily, hoping he doesn't notice.\n\n\"No,\" I wish he would stop asking me that.\n\n\"Why not? Sleeping with Maria was the best thing that ever happened to me. How do you know it won't be the same with Jason?\" I have no doubt that the sex between us would be earth shattering but that's not why I'm holding back.\n\n\"Because he's leaving in two months!\" I don't mean to snap but he was asking for it, prying into my personal life, it should be obvious how I feel.\n\n\"Oh, sweetie,\" great, now somehow he feels pity for me. Fraser wraps me up in a bear hug and it only makes me feel a tiny bit better, \"That's what you are worried about? You can't let that stop you from enjoying life. You never know what the future may hold. He could fall madly in love with you and give up his life in the States. You could follow him home and he might ask you to marry him. Or...you could fuck his brains out for two months.\"\n\n\"FRASER!\" He folds over from the force of my slap to his stomach. Too bad he is also laughing. I really wanted to hurt him.\n\n\"Look, all I'm saying is stop over thinking this. You're young, just have fun for once and let loose. Have a few orgasms while you are at it, on second thought don't tell me about those but it might make you a bit nicer to be around.\" He finishes his sentence as he is running away, laughing.\n\nSometimes I really do question our friendship. But is he right? Am I over thinking this?\n\nProbably.\n\nBut the question is, what do I do about it?\n\n# Chapter 26\n\n## Jason\n\n\"Hey, did anyone eat the fish last night?\" Maria is addressing a bunch of us who are working on putting a roof onto one of the houses. A chorus of resounding 'no's' ring out before they all get to work but I stop Maria before she walks on to the next group of people.\n\n\"Why does it matter who ate the fish last night?\" Eva ate the fish last night and I haven't seen her since then, I hope she's alright.\n\n\"Three people are sick with food poisoning, I'm trying to figure out what did it and so far the only thing they have in common is eating the fish from last night,\" she must be wondering if I ate the fish or not, she has taken a step back and is looking at me funny.\n\n\"Shit,\" I run my hands through my hair, panicking, \"Eva ate the fish last night.\"\n\n\"Where is she?\" There is concern in her voice and I instantly get worried about her.\n\n\"I haven't seen her yet, her door was shut when I got up this morning, I couldn't hear her moving around and I figured she had already left for the day,\" fuck, \"I'll go check on her.\"\n\n\"Thanks, let me know how she is,\" I don't respond as I'm already running over to the staff housing area.\n\nFuck, I hope she's okay.\n\nThe first thing I hear when I open the door to our place is a retching sound coming from the bathroom, \"Eva?\" I go over and try the bathroom door but it's locked, \"Eva, its Jason let me in,\" I begin pounding on the door when I don't hear anything after a few seconds.\n\n\"Go away!\" I can tell she is trying her best to yell at me but it comes out more like a cry for help.\n\n\"Eva, please...just please let me in, I want to help you,\" fuck, I need to help this girl. I can't just walk away and I'm practically begging her to let me in so I can hold her fucking hair.\n\n\"No,\" is she crying? Fuck, I need to get in there.\n\n\"What do you mean no?\" I ask incredulously, if she doesn't open this door, I'm going to force my way in there by any means necessary.\n\n\"I mean no,\" she vomits again in the toilet. \"Just go away Jason I don't want you to see me like this.\" See her like what? Sick? I can handle a bit of vomit.\n\n\"Well tough, you need fluids and you are probably overheating in there, just open the door,\" that damn bathroom is like a sauna in this heat.\n\nAfter a minute or two I hear some shuffling, I'm tempted to bang on the door again but I really want her to let me in and I'm afraid of hurting her if I break the door down. She sounds horrible and I'm worried about her, shit, I'm worried about a chick because she's sick.\n\nI'm in way over my head with this one.\n\nLuckily, before I can think myself into an early grave the door opens and Eva almost falls face first to the floor. \"Whoa there girl, are you okay?\" I manage to catch her before she breaks her nose, but barely.\n\n\"No,\" she's clearly crying now, \"I feel awful.\"\n\n\"Come here,\" I scoop her up into my arms and carry her into the bedroom. She is literally covered in sweat and her face looks an odd shade of green.\n\n\"No, no, I need to stay near the toilet,\" I carefully lay her down on her bed before brushing her matted hair off her face. Fuck. She looks awful too and she is way too hot. Well of course she's hot but her skin feels like it's on fire. \"OMG, I look hideous, don't I?\" Is she seriously worried about how she looks right now?\n\n\"No, you don't, you look beautiful,\" I don't think Eva is even capable of looking ugly, at least not to me.\n\n\"You're a liar, but there is a plus side to all this,\" yeah, I can think of a few plus sides, alone time being at the forefront of my mind, I'm not used to there being people around constantly.\n\n\"Yeah, and what's that?\" she is gazing up at me with a vulnerable look on her face.\n\n\"Having seen me like this you won't be trying to sleep with me anymore,\" I scoff, girl is delusional. \"What?\" she seems genuinely confused by my response.\n\n\"Baby, trust me, when you're better, I'll stick want to fuck you,\" hell I'd fuck her right now if she didn't feel like crap.\n\n\"Huh?\" I turn around and leave the room cracking up laughing, poor girl thinks I'm joking. I rummage around and find an old bucket around the back of the house; I rinse it out and then take it back to Eva.\n\n\"Here, if you need to be sick, vomit in here,\" she recoils as I place it on the floor next to the bed.\n\n\"Ewww, no, who's guna clean that. Just put me back on the toilet, please,\" she's cute when she's begging but there is no way I'm putting her back in that bathroom.\n\n\"I'm going to clean it, just do what I say,\" I leave the room again before she has a chance to argue with me. I grab a big jug of water from the kitchen along with a glass, I go back to her room, placing both items near Eva's bed before grabbing a bowl of clean water and a wash cloth.\n\n\"What are you doing?\" she has a panicked look in her eyes.\n\n\"Shhhhh,\" I dip the wash cloth into the bowl and then rub it on her forehead.\n\n\"Ohhhhh. That feels sooo good,\" I repeat the process a few more times and continue down onto her chest, her arms, her legs and she shivers the entire time. I lift her camisole up revealing her toned stomach and when I start rubbing the wash cloth on her stomach she moans, loudly.\n\n\"Eva, you are going to have to stop with the moaning, you're giving me a semi,\" she cracks one eye open.\n\n\"Seriously?\" a small smile works its way onto her lips.\n\n\"Deadly serious,\" she closes her eye before moaning again. Tease.\n\n\"Ohhhh, Jason, don't stop,\" she moans and then starts laughing.\n\n\"Well if you can laugh, I'm taking it you're feeling better?\" she sure looks a hell of a lot better.\n\n\"Much, thank you. But seriously, don't stop with the wash cloth, it feels amazing,\" I wasn't planning on stopping, those sexy moans are driving me insane.\n\n\"Good, now here,\" I lift the glass of water up to her lips, being careful not to spill any on her. \"Drink up, but small sips,\" and that's how we spend the next hour. I help Eva to keep her fluids up while at the same time trying to keep her cool with the wash cloth.\n\nWe barely talk the entire time but Eva continues to moan and I continue to get turned on. Eva seems spent and after a while she drifts off to sleep, I place the wash cloth on her forehead then sit down on the floor with my back against the opposite wall.\n\nSomething under her bed catches my eye, I reach forward to find a book. Huh, I can't remember the last time I read a book, might as well give it a go. I don't want to leave Eva on her own in case she vomits in her sleep and this seems like the perfect way to pass the time.\n\n# Chapter 27\n\n## Eva\n\nI wake feeling much, much better. Jason was right, I was overheating in that bathroom.\n\nAs soon as he laid me down on my bed and started rubbing me down with that cool cloth, I felt sooo much better. And he was sweet, really sweet. I can't believe he stayed with me while I was sick, I expected him to stay far, far away from me while I was in that condition but once again, he surprised me.\n\nI should go find him, to thank him. Maybe do something nice for him in return, like naughty nice.\n\nI go to hop out of my bed and get the fright of my life when I see that Jason is still in my room. He's sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, reading. He looks beautiful like that; I wonder what he's reading.\n\nI look at the cover. Oh no. No. No. NO.\n\n\"What are you doing?\" Fuck, he's reading my book. My dirty book. Shit.\n\n\"Oh, so she's awake. How are you feeling?\" he doesn't put my book down.\n\n\"Jason, are you reading my book?\" he doesn't even look up from the pages.\n\n\"I am. Have been for the last few hours too, its riveting stuff,\" noooooo. I lie back down on the bed, covering my face with my hands. I'm mortified.\n\n\"Kill me, just please kill me,\" I could die right now, that book was left behind by a volunteer ages ago and it's one of the dirtier ones I have ever read.\n\n\"Kill you? Why would I kill you when you have porn under your bed?\" Porn! More like an erotic romance novel but I guess guys can't tell the difference.\n\n\"It's not porn!\" I feel the bed dip. Oh god he's sitting next to me. I can't look him in the eye. The bed dips further. What is he doing? I open my eyes and make a crack in my fingers to see through, \"Jason, what are you doing?\" he is lying next to me on the bed with his back leaning against the wall.\n\n\"Trying to get comfy, I was getting a bit stiff down there on the floor and I was just getting to a really good bit,\" he is still reading.\n\n\"Jason, give me the book back,\" I reach for it but he holds his arm up in the air, damn long, sexy arms, \"Please,\" I do my best hurt puppy look.\n\n\"Nope. But I can read to you if you like. She was just about to touch his quivering member,\" read to me? Is he insane?\n\n\"Jason!\" I jump up trying the grab the book but he is too fast, I spend the next few minutes trying and failing to get my book back before I start to feel queasy, \"Oh, ummm.\"\n\n\"Shit, do you feel sick?\" He instantly stops mucking around, throwing the book on the floor, \"Do you need your bucket?\"\n\n\"No. No, I think I'm okay, thanks,\" Jason lies back down dragging me with him, he wraps his arms around me and puts my head on his chest.\n\n\"Go back to sleep Eva.\"\n\n\"Mmmmmm, okay.\"\n\nThe next time I wake, my head is still resting on Jason's chest but this time my leg is draped over his and his hand is on my thigh, rather close to my va-. \"Holy shit! Is that drool?!\" I sit up to wipe my face and yes, yes, it is. The only response I get is laughter. OMG this cannot be happening.\n\n\"I think I need a shower, do you want to go first or should I join you, you know, to save water?\" What is Jason talking about, sharing the shower?\n\n\"What?\" am I still asleep?\n\n\"That's okay, I'll go first. But I'll leave the door open in case you need to come in and vomit, or you know, need something else,\" he winks at me before getting up and strutting from the room.\n\nI'm still sitting on the bed stunned when I hear the shower start up. What should I do? I poke my head around the door and sure enough the door to the bathroom has been left wide open. I sneak over to the door and peer inside. The curtain is shut and I can't see anything. What am I doing? Am I seriously trying to catch a peek?\n\n\"Eva, just jump in, I know you want to,\" his voice is all seductive with a hint of laughter.\n\n\"Eekkk!!\" he heard me, fuck, he heard me. Could my life get any more embarrassing? I lie back down on my bed and when the shower shuts off, I pretend to be asleep. Real mature Eva, real mature.\n\nI hear footsteps coming towards me but I refuse to open my eyes. I am asleep. I am asleep.\n\n\"Showers all yours,\" I feel a kiss on my forehead and I open my eyes to see Jason walking back out the door, naked. Fuck. I don't know how much longer I can hold out. At this point I'm not sure why I'm even holding out at all.\n\nHe turns his head to look back at me just before he moves out of my line of sight, \"Let's read more of that book later.\"\n\nFuck. My. Life.\n\n### ***\n\nI'm going to do it. I'm going to sleep with Jason.\n\nTonight.\n\nIt's been long enough. We are two consenting adults. We both find each other attractive. There is nothing wrong with casual sex.\n\nOr hoping casual sex leads to something else.\n\nNope. Casual. I can do casual sex. Right? No. I mean, yes.\n\nDon't second guess your decision, just do it. Fuck, I can't remember being this nervous before sex.\n\nProbably because it's been a while and Jason looks like a sex on a stick. What if I'm not good enough in bed? What if once he sleeps with me, he moves on straight away?\n\n\"What's going on in there?\" Jason asks. He's tapping my brain. If only he knew.\n\nWe are sitting down at the weekly bonfire. Normally it's a fun, relaxed affair but tonight I'm wound tighter than a corkscrew.\n\n\"Oh, nothing. Nothing, at all. I want a drink. Do you want a drink? I'm going to get a drink.\" I'm up and walking over to get a drink before he even responds, but I do hear him chuckling behind me.\n\nAlcohol. Why didn't I think of this before! Alcohol, always does the trick. I'll be feeling better in no time.\n\nBrilliant plan, Eva.\n\nJust, brilliant.\n\n# Chapter 28\n\n## Jason\n\nEva's drunk, _very_ drunk.\n\nWe just made it back to our place after the bonfire, Eva half walked and was half dragged behind me. I tried to carry her but I'm not quite sure what her legs were up to, I think she was trying to put them around mine but I'm not sure.\n\nAll of a sudden, her tits are rubbing up against my chest and she's on her tippy toes with her lips in a pout. Is she trying to kiss me?\n\n\"Kiss me Jason,\" fuck. Her voice is all hot and breathy. \"Please, kiss me,\" she finally wants to sleep me, after all this time and she's decided to do it shit faced, just my luck.\n\n\"No, Eva y-\" she interrupts me before I even have the chance to explain.\n\n\"Don't you want me Jason?\" She has stepped back from me only to start rubbing her hands all over her body, grabbing her breasts.\n\n\"What? Of course, I want you,\" is she insane? I've wanted her from the first moment I laid eyes on her.\n\n\"Then what's the problem?\" she's pouting now for real, damn, I've upset her.\n\n\"You're drunk Eva, really drunk,\" and I want you to remember our first time together.\n\n\"So?\" Before I can stop her, she brings her tank top over her head and throws it across the room. I'm too busy staring down at her tits in awe to realize that she's taking her bra off as well.\n\n\"Eva, wai-\" too late. There's no way our first time is going to be when she is this drunk. I refuse to take advantage of her but she is testing my self-restraint.\n\nUnfortunately, my reflexes decide to kick in when Eva puts her hands on her hips, ready to strip out of her shorts.\n\n\"No,\" I'm holding onto her wrists, stopping her from getting completely naked. Damn. I should get a medal for this shit.\n\n\"Why?\" she genuinely looks confused.\n\n\"Fuck you're cute Eva,\" she stomps her foot like a child.\n\n\"Cute. CUTE? I don't want to be cute Jason, I want to be sexy,\" her bottom lip starts to quiver. \"I want you to want me, I thought you wanted to fuck me,\" I groan, willing my dick to stop twitching in my pants.\n\n\"Eva, baby, I don't think you have any idea how sexy you are. And yes, I want to fuck you, badly, but I want to do it when we are both sober because I sure as hell won't be stopping with just one round,\" try at least three rounds.\n\n\"Really?\" she seems pleased with my answer.\n\n\"Really,\" I confirm with a nod.\n\n\"Okay,\" she beams up at me and it's the cutest thing in the world.\n\n\"How about we go into your room and cuddle instead?\" I can't believe I just offered to cuddle a half-naked chick.\n\n\"Cuddle?\" she looks down at her naked chest and then back up at me, confusion written all over face.\n\n\"Yes,\" why did she have to get so drunk tonight? The last thing I want to do is cuddle.\n\n\"Like hugging, cuddle?\" she gestures with her arms in a circle.\n\n\"Yes, Eva, like hugging, cuddle,\" fuck she's adorable with her nose all screwed up, looking confused as shit.\n\n\"Ummmm, okay?\" her voice sounds like she is asking me a question.\n\n\"Okay then, let's go,\" she moves into her bedroom, stopping every couple of steps to look behind her, like she thinks I'm going to disappear.\n\nEva lies down on the bed and before she has a chance to get comfortable, I scoot in behind her playing the big spoon. I scoop up her hand and hold it in my mine, resting them both on her chest right underneath her breast. Hmmm, this is nice, I could get used to this.\n\nBefore too long she is sound asleep, snoring softly, I kiss her head then bury my face into her hair. I wish I could fall asleep as quickly as she did but my erection is digging into her backside and it's begging for release. I need to calm down and get to sleep, maybe we could pick things back up in the morning.\n\nYeah, the morning.\n\nShe should be sober enough by then.\n\n# Chapter 29\n\n## Eva\n\nI wake up with a foggy head and the room is spinning, shit, how much did I drink last night? I start to move then realize there is something poking me in the backside, something hard. I freeze. Is that what I think it is?\n\n\"Morning beautiful,\" fuck. It's then that I realize I'm naked from the waist up, Jason is spooning me from behind, holding my hand that is very close to touching my breast, my very naked breast.\n\n\"I'm naked,\" why am I naked?\n\n\"No, you still have your shorts on but we can rectify that issue,\" he starts kissing my shoulder, working his way up to my neck.\n\nI manage to squeak out, \"But, but I'm not wearing a top,\" I don't even want to think about my lower half, I'm just glad that it's still covered up.\n\n\"No, no you are not,\" It's at that exact moment he decides to bring his thumb up and brush it against my nipple, I shiver.\n\nHe takes that as encouragement to keep going, his other hand leaves mine to palm my breast, rubbing and flicking my nipple. His penis starts moving against my bottom and I release a painfully loud moan. This only seems to excite him. His hand thrusts down inside my underwear and goes straight between my folds.\n\nGod, I'm so wet. So, turned on by this man.\n\nThe thought that he will eventually leave me is forgotten, at this point he could be leaving tomorrow and I would still fuck him.\n\nIt's insane just how needy his is making me for his touch.\n\nHe alternates between thrusting his fingers inside of me and then circling my clit, his rhythm against my backside starts to get faster and faster, matching the speed of his fingers. My breathing is heavy, I don't even recognize the sounds that are coming out of my mouth and I'm starting to shake all over.\n\nIt's been so long since someone has touched me like this and I'm not going to last very long.\n\nA few minutes later and I'm clenching around his fingers, shaking uncontrollably. My orgasm builds quickly and I climax, hard.\n\nBoth his fingers and his crotch ride out my orgasm with slow strokes. I have never had an orgasm like that, that was incredible.\n\nWhy the fuck did I wait so long to experience this?\n\nAfter a moment, Jason withdrawals his hand from my panties and places it back around my waist, he kisses my shoulder and just lies there, holding me. That was amazing...perfect.\n\nShould I return the favor? I probably should, it would be the polite thing to do.\n\nI don't have time to think about that idea any further though, Jason hops up out of bed, kisses my head and leaves the room.\n\nWhat? Not long after I hear the shower turn on, I'm still lying in bed processing my thoughts a few minutes later when the water shuts off. Jason comes back into the room wearing nothing but a towel, he sits on the edge of the bed and strokes a few stray hairs away from my face.\n\n\"Eva, baby, don't overthink this okay. Now get up and grab a quick shower before we go and have breakfast,\" this time he kisses me quickly on the lips before getting up and leaving the room.\n\nI still don't move.\n\n\"Eva! Shower!\"\n\nShit.\n\nRight.\n\nShower.\n\nOkay, I can do this, right?\n\n### ***\n\n\"He gave me an orgasm,\" Fraser is just about to take a sip of his coffee when I impart my amazing news, he inhales and almost chokes on his coffee. Whoops. Maybe I shouldn't have dropped that on him while he was taking a sip.\n\n\"Who gave you an orgasm?\" surely, he knows there is only one answer to that question.\n\n\"Jason,\" I can't help it, a huge grin spreads across my face.\n\n\"When?\" he is clearly shocked that I finally gave in.\n\n\"This morning!\" I practically squeal in delight.\n\n\"Did you sleep with him?\" his expression makes me think that he doesn't believe me.\n\n\"No,\" but if Jason hadn't gotten up to get in the shower I would have.\n\n\"Blow job?\" he is still looking at me through narrowed eyes.\n\n\"What? No!\" I smack Fraser on the arm, he can be so crude sometimes.\n\n\"So, let me get this straight,\" he places his coffee mug back down on the bench so he now has full use of both hands, \"You expect me to believe that Jason gave you an orgasm and you didn't get him off in return?\"\n\n\"Yeah, what's so hard to believe about that?\" It's actually pretty sexy, unless he didn't want to sleep with me.\n\n\"I'm sorry, are we still 16? Why didn't you fuck him?\" He seems almost disappointed in me.\n\n\"What? Oh, well, um, I was thinking about doing something back but then he jumped up to have a shower,\" we did have to get ready for work after all.\n\n\"He left you there?\" I think Fraser might be enjoying his payback a little too much, it wasn't that long ago we were having a similar conversation when he first kissed Maria.\n\n\"Yeah, so?\" this is a totally different situation, he wants me, well at least I'm pretty sure he does, or did.\n\n\"I hate to break it to you but I don't think that's a good sign,\" he picks his coffee mug back up and takes a sip.\n\n\"Why not?\" now I really do sound like I'm 16.\n\n\"I dunno, maybe you were one of those annoying screamers,\" Fraser is enjoying tormenting me a little too much.\n\nI scoff, \"No, I don't scream,\" wait, maybe I did? I'm not really sure what came out of my mouth this morning.\n\nI thought he was really sweet afterwards. He kissed me, that has to be a good sign, right? But then what if Fraser is right, what if I did something wrong and now I've missed my chance. Just when I finally decided that that's what I want.\n\nI'm so lost in my thoughts that I don't notice Jason come up behind me.\n\n\"Hey baby,\" he puts his hand on my lower back and kisses my forehead, \"You want a coffee?\"\n\n\"Um...y, yes, yes please,\" I watch him walk away for a few seconds before I turn back to Fraser, his mouth is hanging open.\n\n\"What?\" What's wrong now?\n\n\"Yeah, you definitely didn't do anything wrong,\" his eyes flick down to my crotch before looking me in the eyes again. \"Do you have a magic pussy or something?\"\n\n\"FRASER!\" I look around quickly, hoping no one else heard him.\n\n\"What? It's a serious question,\" his expression screams the opposite.\n\n\"Why would you think I had, a, a magic p-, um, you know,\" I can feel my face heating.\n\n\"Eva, you just turned that man from player to whipped boyfriend with one orgasm. Trust me when I say that doesn't happen unless the chick has a magic pussy,\" I'm still not really following but that sounds like it's a good thing, I think.\n\n\"Eww, Fraser that's gross. Stop it, and he's not my boyfriend,\" if only it were that easy.\n\n\"Okay, well I'm going to get to work, you have fun with all that, but next time, share the details with someone else,\" if he doesn't want me to share then why is he always asking about my sex life?\n\n\"Why? You tell me about your sex life all the time,\" talk about double standards.\n\n\"Yeah but I'm a guy and you're like my sister,\" his expression seems to say, duh, isn't it obvious? He walks away just as Jason comes back with my coffee.\n\n\"Two sugars and a dash of milk, right?\" I take the coffee from him trying not to read too much into the fact he knows exactly how I like my coffee.\n\n\"Yeah, how did you know that?\" I take sip, \"Mmmmm,\" perfect. He clears his throat, looking uncomfortable.\n\n\"Um, I pay attention. So, what's on the agenda for today,\" he spoke in one big hurried breath. Is he embarrassed that he took note of how I like my coffee? I thought it was sweet.\n\n# Chapter 30\n\n## Jason\n\nI want another repeat of this morning. Now. I took off to our room tonight straight after dinner. I was getting worked up at all the possibilities that could happen tonight.\n\nBut now that I'm here I'm not sure what to do. Do I go to my room or her room? If I go to her room is that presuming too much?\n\nThat's how Eva finds me. Standing in the middle of the kitchen looking between both of our bedrooms.\n\n\"What are you doing?\" she asks and I glance back at her.\n\n\"Trying to decide what room I should be sleeping in,\" I'll leave this one up to her.\n\n\"Oh,\" she looks down at the floor, her blush is so intense it has spread to her chest. \"Um, my room. That's if you want to, of course. You don't have to, no pressure or anything,\" fuck yes, I want to sleep in her room.\n\n\"You don't have to tell me twice,\" her soft giggles ring out behind me as I race into her bedroom, strip off and lie down on her bed.\n\nShe enters the room, ringing her hands together, it's obvious she's still nervous. I thought this morning might have loosened her up a bit.\n\n\"Strip off and come here,\" I was expecting an argument but surprisingly she does what I asked, well it came out as more of a demand. But she seemed to like it. Interesting.\n\nShe slowly strips off, teasing me as she goes. Getting me more and more worked up. As she takes her bra off, I fist my dick in my hand, loving the sight of her pink nipples, standing at attention...for me.\n\nHer eyes go to my hand and she licks her lips. Eva drops her panties then runs her hands slowly back up her body.\n\nI don't think I can take much more of this, \"Get over here,\" she takes a few steps towards me then hesitates. I lift up off the bed, grabbing her thighs and hoisting her over me. Settling back on the bed with her pussy directly over my face. I can see her folds glistening they are already so wet, my dick twitches, loving the thought that I made her drenched.\n\n\"Jason, wh-...AHHHHHH!\" I don't waste any time plunging my tongue inside her pussy, tasting her and lapping up her juices.\n\nHer moans excite me and I reach up to bite her clit. \"Ohhhh...JASON!\" She starts riding my face. I look up to see her head thrown back in ecstasy, her breasts swaying with her movements.\n\nShe reaches up to rub her nipples and it is about the hottest thing I have ever seen in my life. The only thing that would make this moment better would be her calling out my real name.\n\nI keep stroking her with my tongue, alternating between being inside her pussy and licking her clit. She rides my face harder and harder the closer she gets to climax.\n\nThe last time I did this for a girl was back in college, licking a girl's pussy has never been something that I have really been into, I much prefer getting my dick sucked. But Eva's pussy? I could eat it for days and never tire of it. It's fucking delicious and I could come just watching her writhe in pleasure.\n\nBefore long, her orgasm hits her hard, she is screaming out my name and I'm lapping up every one of her juices as it flows down my face. Her body goes limp and I catch her before she falls off the bed, bringing her body down in line with mine, \"Jason,\" she whispers, completely breathless, \"Oh my god, Jason, that was amazing. Holy shit.\"\n\n\"You liked that?\" I know damn well that she liked it but I want to hear her say it.\n\n\"Liked it?\" She finally looks into my eyes, \"I loved it,\" I bring my lips down to hers in a hard, bruising kiss but she opens willingly. Moaning as she tastes herself on my tongue, \"I want to taste you.\" Sweet Jesus, those five little words make me feel like I might explode already.\n\n\"I don't think I'm going too last long, you got me all worked up,\" I don't want to push her but the thought of my dick between those lips would be like heaven.\n\n\"I don't care,\" before I can say anything else, she has scooted further down the bed. The sight before me is pure ecstasy. Eva has my dick in her hand, licking her lips, her legs are spread, with her ass up in the air. She is perfection.\n\nI nearly buck off the bed when she takes me in her mouth, sucking me down all the way to the back of her throat.\n\n\"Evvaaaa! Fuck, that feels amazing. Don't stop,\" she doesn't let up, she sucks my dick...hard. Pausing every now and then to lick my shaft, circling the head with her tongue.\n\nHer hair starts to fall in her face so I fist it in my hands. I don't want to miss a moment of this.\n\nBefore long, I feel my balls tighten, \"Eva, baby I'm gonna come,\" she doesn't let up, \"Eva, I'm going to, argh fuck, I'm going to COME!\" I explode into her mouth. She keeps milking me, sucking me until I'm dry. It's the best feeling in the world, \"Come here baby,\" I pull her up to me, kissing those lips that have the biggest satisfied smile I have ever seen.\n\n\"I did good?\" she asks.\n\nWhat kind of a question is that?\n\n\"Baby, you did more than good. That was the best blow job I have ever gotten,\" that comment seems to please her and I'm glad.\n\nWe are both spent and it doesn't take long for us to fall into a deep sleep, wrapped up in each other's arms.\n\nThat was quite simply the best night of my life.\n\nI'm ruined.\n\nAnd we haven't even had sex yet.\n\n# Chapter 31\n\n## Eva\n\nI wake to Jason peppering kisses along my chest and collarbone, he starts kissing his way up my neck before meeting my lips. We connect passionately, his lips coming against mine in a frenzy.\n\nHe slowly makes his way down to my breasts. Stopping to circle his tongue around each of my nipples, my skin is covered in goose bumps and I shiver from his touch. Jason continues to kiss me lower and lower, sweeping his tongue over my stomach and belly button.\n\nHe keeps going, kissing down my thigh and stopping on my ankle. Only to pick up my other ankle and kiss his way back up to my center. The first flick of his tongue against my pussy is long and slow, reaching back towards dangerous territory before licking all the way up to my clit.\n\nAs soon as he hits that spot I jump, moaning from the pressure building inside of me, \"Jason,\" me saying his name seems to give him pause but before I can say anything he is back to working his magic, licking my clit while pumping his fingers in and out of me.\n\nHe doesn't let up until my orgasm washes over me, as I'm coming down from my high, I can feel Jason guiding himself towards my entrance.\n\nHis eyes are on mine the entire time. I can feel his erection pushing against me but he holds himself still, I reach up and grab his butt cheeks trying to pull him into me, desperate for him.\n\nHe smirks, putting a hand up over my shoulder, getting ready to enter me in one big thrust.\n\nKnock, knock, knock.\n\nWe both freeze at the sound.\n\nWhat. The. Actual. Fuck.\n\n\"Eva, you there? I need your help.\" Fucking Fraser!\n\n\"I'm going to kill him,\" I growl while pushing on his bum again. This action just earns me a chuckle.\n\n\"It's okay Eva,\" he stands and starts putting his underwear back on, \"We have plenty of time,\" he leans down, brushing a tender kiss on my forehead. \"Besides, there's not enough time this morning to fuck you properly,\" this is accompanied by a wink before he leaves the room. A few seconds later I hear the shower start up.\n\nKnock, knock, knock.\n\n\"Eva, I can hear you in there, hurry up!\" I quickly put some clothes on before storming over and ripping the front door open.\n\n\"WHAT?!\" Fraser appears startled by my reaction, I'm sure I look like a total mess. Then his face transforms into a menacing grin.\n\n\"I'm sorry, did I interrupt something?\" Is he fucking kidding me?\n\n\"Yes, you fucking interrupted something!\" The nerve. The fucking nerve of this guy, \"Jason was about two seconds away from shoving his dick inside me before you started knocking on my god damn door. Now. What. The. Fuck. Do. You. Want!\" His horrified expression is almost comical, almost.\n\n\"Um, fuck, uh, I, she, uh. Fuck!\" He looks to his left and only then do I recognize one of the new volunteers.\n\nFuck.\n\nI feel my face drain of color. She just heard me. Holy fuck. She just heard me. I am mortified.\n\n\"Period,\" Fraser manages to stumble out a single word. Too bad that word doesn't make sense.\n\n\"What?\" my attention is turned back to Fraser.\n\n\"Period,\" he points at the girl standing off to the side, who looks as though she would rather be anywhere but here. I sigh.\n\n\"Fraser, are you trying to tell me that this girl has her period?\" How the fuck is Fraser involved in this shit storm.\n\n\"Uh huh,\" he nods.\n\n\"How is that my problem?\" I know I'm being rude and the poor girl looks like she wants to disappear but I'm still pissed, do they not understand what they just interrupted?\n\nHave they not seen Jason?\n\nI'm sure this girl knows what I'm talking about.\n\n\"She needs tampons,\" again, I don't see how that's my problem.\n\n\"So, there's a whole bunch in one of the containers,\" he just needs to go fucking get some, it's not that hard.\n\n\"But I don't know where that is,\" bullshit, he doesn't know where that is.\n\n\"Why didn't you ask Maria?\" He just lifts his shoulder in a shrug. Fucker is probably too embarrassed to go to her seeing as he is sleeping with her, big baby. \"Hang on,\" I storm back inside just as Jason exits the bathroom.\n\n\"Everything okay out there?\" Just looking at him all sexy and dripping wet makes me even angrier.\n\nThose assholes outside kept me from finally fucking that piece of perfection.\n\n\"Yep, peachy keen,\" except that it's not. We are cursed.\n\n\"Peachy keen?\" I don't even bother to look up at Jason, looking at his shirtless body covered in nothing but a towel will only cement the fact that we once again, didn't have sex. It's like our thing. Maybe we should just stick to oral.\n\n\"Yes, that's what I said,\" I seem to be pissed at everyone this morning. I go inside my room and pull a tampon box out of one of my drawers.\n\n\"Are you mad at me?\" I'm mad at someone alright, not too sure if it's at Fraser or myself for getting too damn invested already.\n\n\"Nope,\" I walk straight past him to the front door where I proceed to throw the tampon box at Fraser's head, before slamming the door in his face. I walk back past Jason, going into my room.\n\nHe comes in behind me and wraps his hands around my stomach, resting his chin on my head.\n\n\"I'm sorry,\" at least it's not just me. He sounds about as devasted as I feel.\n\n\"It's fine, I'm not even worried about it,\" he chuckles before leaning down to whisper in my ear.\n\n\"I'm going to fuck you Eva, tonight. I meant what I said before. There isn't enough time this morning to fuck you properly. Besides, I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk straight. You're going to need a good night's sleep to recover,\" I'm too shocked to respond but it doesn't matter, Jason simply smacks me on the butt then leaves the room.\n\nTonight.\n\nHoly shit, it's going to happen tonight.\n\nAbout fucking time!\n\n# Chapter 32\n\n## Jason\n\n\"Um, sorry for the interruption this morning. Although, technically, I guess you could call it pay back, seeing as how you walked in on Maria and I,\" I lift one eyebrow in response to Fraser's remark.\n\n\"Really? I don't see how that's similar at all. You and Maria were fully clothed. My dick however, my dick was about two seconds away from gold,\" Fraser pales.\n\n\"Fuck. I thought she was exaggerating,\" I wish she was exaggerating.\n\n\"Nope, no exaggeration there,\" I decide to put the poor dude of his misery. He looks uncomfortable as fuck, \"Seriously though, you probably did me a favor,\" his eyebrows shoot so far up his forehead it's almost comical. \"I didn't really think I would be getting any on this trip and well, didn't bring any protection, if you know what I mean,\" understanding dawns on his face.\n\n\"Don't worry bro, I gotcha,\" he winks before wandering off.\n\nThree hours later, Fraser is back, handing me over what I presume are condoms, but it looks more like he is trying to make a drug deal. He looks around before saying, \"I got what you asked for.\"\n\n\"Seriously?\" I rip them out of his hand, dude is being cagey. \"What the actual fuck?!\"\n\n\"What? You wanted condoms, I got you condoms,\" he nods his head towards said condoms like I'm stupid.\n\n\"Four. Four fucking condoms. That's it?\" I'm yelling now but I don't care, \"I was hoping for a box, maybe two,\" I kick a nearby rock, I'm so frustrated. I can't seem to catch a break, maybe this is karma for all the lies I've been telling.\n\n\"Look man, I need some for myself as well, alright. There isn't an endless supply here,\" I couldn't give two shits about his needs, I only cared about my own.\n\n\"Fuck!\" What I wouldn't give for a convenience store right now, \"Whatever, man. When can we get some more?\"\n\n\"Two days, I can grab some for both of us when I go swap out the groups of volunteers,\" four condoms for two days isn't that bad, I guess, I'm a little worried about how I will act once I finally get inside her though.\n\nRight now, we have only fooled around and I'm obsessed with the girl, can't imagine what I will be like once I get inside her. \"You do know you have to work as well, right? You can't spend the whole time getting laid now,\" I smirk at his comment.\n\n\"Is that why you have been late for breakfast every morning since you and Maria got together, you were working,\" I raise my eyebrows up and down suggestively. Fraser gives me the finger before stalking off.\n\n\"Fuck you man, fuck you.\"\n\nThe rest of the day drags by, painfully slow. Then after dinner, Eva is called to some fucking first aid emergency because one of the dipshit volunteers cut his hand on a knife while washing the dishes. Fucking moron.\n\nBecause she is project lead, she has to fill in paperwork and crap. I can't catch a break. This is definitely some form of fucked up punishment for my sins. I won't be able to get inside of her until I come clean about who I am.\n\nI'm torn between wanting her to scream Mason out loud while I'm making her come and wishing I was in fact Jason. My life would be so much easier if I was.\n\nBecause I'm a glutton for punishment, I'm lying in her bed, naked. Waiting, hoping that she will turn up before I fall asleep.\n\nEvery muscle in my body hurts, it's getting easier every day, but you would think that going to the gym daily would have helped me out here. I feel like my muscles are mocking me, telling me they are all for show.\n\nI try to stay awake but sheer exhaustion overrides my need for sex, my need for Eva and I slowly drift off to sleep.\n\nWhat feels like seconds later, I feel something tugging at me. Like I'm being pulled from sleep but I don't want to wake up. I'm dreaming about Eva, she's riding me, her tits are in my face and she's screaming out my name, my real name.\n\nWe are in my apartment in Seattle. The feeling is euphoric. That is until I jerk awake. It takes me a minute to register that Eva is lying next to me, naked and pulling on my cock.\n\nMaybe being awake isn't so bad after all. \"Damn girl, that's one hell of a way to wake up.\"\n\n\"Well, I was looking forward to seeing you when I got back. You had me all hot and bothered, it wasn't fair to come back and find you asleep,\" she releases my cock and throws her leg over me. Rubbing my dick against her entrance. I groan.\n\n\"No, not fair. Not fair at all. I think you should punish me,\" She kisses me deeply, passionately. I pull back, only to grab one of the four condoms that Fraser gave me earlier. I hand it to her before lying back on the bed, my hands resting behind my head. \"Punish me, Eva,\" she rips the condom wrapper open, sliding the condom over my length slowly, I love how fucking eager she is for my cock.\n\nShe straddles me, lining herself up before plunging down on my cock. My dick filling her completely in one, hard, thrust. \"Fuucckkkkk!\" she feels incredible. It feels like déjà vu. She is riding me just like my dream, perfect tits bouncing up and down, her head is thrown back and she's moaning my name, only the name she is screaming isn't really mine.\n\n\"Jason! Shit, Jason!\" I reach for her, holding her tight as I get up on my knees, she wraps her legs around my waist, joining her feet together behind my back. I pound into her over and over again. Kissing her everywhere, her lips, her neck, going down until I suck one of her nipples into my mouth, \"Oh, JASON!\" Her nails are digging into my back, painfully, but it only turns me on more. I feel her pussy tighten around my cock.\n\n\"Look at me baby, I want to watch your face as you come all over my dick,\" her eyes meet mine and they are full of heat, of desire.\n\nA few more thrusts and she fades away, climaxing, screaming my name over and over again. I place her on the bed below me, roughly pounding into her before finding my own release after a few quick thrusts, \"Evvaaa! Fuccckkkk!\" I collapse on top of her, we are both breathing heavily and I begin to place kisses all over her face, whispering how amazing she is. How amazing we are, together.\n\nA few minutes later, I reluctantly pull out of her and she whimpers, kissing me once more before I go to the bathroom and dispose of the condom. When I return to her room, she is fast asleep. I chuckle at the sight. She is upside down on the bed, exactly how I left her, hair all rumpled from sex.\n\nShe looks like a goddess. A sex goddess. I gently pick her up, placing her back down the correct way up on the bed, slotting in behind her, holding her to me.\n\nWishing and praying that I could wake up and really be Jason.\n\n# Chapter 33\n\n## Eva\n\nLast night was incredible and well over due, I'm still surprised about how ballsy I was, practically throwing myself at Jason. He didn't seem to mind though, especially since he woke me up the same way, grinding into my backside and entering me moments after I woke up.\n\nHe then took me again over the bathroom sink after I had finished brushing my teeth, I had never watched myself having sex before and I have to say it was a turn on watching Jason's face as he took me from behind.\n\nI was worried that Jason would have me once then get bored and move on but now I just feel stupid, he hasn't let me out of his sight all day and keeps giving me these come hither looks.\n\nIt's very distracting, if I wasn't the project lead, I might have taken him up on his offers of daytime sex but I have to be seen as being responsible.\n\nTonight, however is a different story. \"You going to fit that doorknob or are you just going to keep staring at it?\" Damn, busted, I have been daydreaming about Jason all day but no one has said anything until now. I'm surprised it's Maria though, I definitely thought Fraser would be all over me.\n\n\"Um, yeah, just distracted, that's all,\" that's an understatement. I have never had sex that good, ever. I didn't even know it could be that great but more than that I felt like we connected. After I let my guard down and decided to sleep with him, I realized how much I actually like him and it's scary. I like him, a lot.\n\n\"I can tell, does it happen to have anything to do with Jason? I've seen him nearly trip over his own feet twice today when you have walked past,\" my head snaps up at her comment.\n\n\"Really?\" my voice is way too excited and I feel like a have a swarm of butterflies fluttering around in my stomach at the thought of Jason really liking me too.\n\n\"Yes, really. Clearly something happened with you guys, Fraser said he interrupted you the other morning and then Jason asked him for some condoms, so I'm guessing you guys finally did the dirty?\" Jason asked Fraser for condoms? That shouldn't make me so happy but it does. For a minute there I thought he brought condoms with him from home, I guess a guy like him should always be prepared, girls practically throw themselves at him, like Amber. Fucking Amber, glad she's gone, picturing him having sex with other volunteers pisses me off, I want to be the only one he has sex with.\n\n\"Earth to Eva? You look angry, did you have sex with Jason or not?\" Fuck, he is really messing with my head.\n\n\"Oh, sorry and yes, we had sex...once last night and twice this morning,\" I feel myself getting all hot and bothered thinking about it.\n\n\"Damn girl, no wonder he is tripping all over himself, he wants you and he wants you bad,\" Maria is chuckling to herself.\n\n\"I kinda want him bad too,\" admitting this to Maria seems easier than admitting it to Fraser or even Jason.\n\n\"I know how you feel, I felt the same way about Fraser and after we had sex for the first time, he was on me every chance he got. Still is,\" she winks at me and I cringe, I think of Fraser as a brother, I'm happy for them but the thought of them having sex is gross.\n\n\"Except the difference is, you and Fraser have a future, we don't,\" this is why I didn't want to sleep with him in the first place, my damn emotions can't handle casual.\n\n\"Nobody is guaranteed anything, you of all people should know this. So, relax, have fun and have lots of hot sex with Mr. high roller. Don't think about anything else, you deserve to have some fun...and a few orgasms,\" we both burst out laughing and it feels good, really good.\n\nBesides, she is right, having sex with Jason is amazing. If two more months is all I get then I am going to make the most of my time with him and milk as many orgasms as I can out of him.\n\nThe man himself decides to appear and put his arms around me from behind, pulling me in close.\n\n\"What's so funny ladies?\" I love that he can just throw his arms around me, not worrying about judgement from other people.\n\n\"Nothing, I've got to go but you two enjoy yourselves,\" Maria throws a wink my way before sauntering off. I'm really happy Fraser found her, she's a great girl.\n\n\"Why do I get the feeling you were talking about me?\" He spins me around in his arms placing a tender kiss to my lips.\n\n\"That's because we were,\" I grin cheekily before running off, Jason runs after me and catches me moments later, flinging me up and over his shoulder.\n\n\"Jason! Put me down!\" I'm squealing and laughing at the same time, enjoying his playful nature and not really wanting him to put me down at all.\n\n\"Nope,\" he reaches up and squeezes my butt cheek before adjusting me in his arms. \"I want to have sex with you before dinner, looking at you all day but not being able to touch you is torture,\" don't I know it.\n\nI decide to ignore my heart for the next two months and just enjoy my time, and the sex, with this wonderful man.\n\n# Chapter 34\n\n## Jason\n\nI have been fucking Eva for a week now and you would think my desire for her would be decreasing but it's not, if anything, it's increasing.\n\nI think we have had sex on just about every surface of our tiny home and I have spent every single night in her bed. I'm not planning on ever sleeping in my bed again, unless of course Eva is in the bed with me.\n\nI have also never eaten so much pussy in my life, I normally prefer for chicks to go down on me but I love it when she writhes all over my face, completely letting go before she comes.\n\nNo other girl I have been with compares to her, normally chicks sleep with me because they want something from me and I sleep with them to get some form of release. But with Eva it's different, it's easy. There is no ulterior motive between us, we're sleeping together because we like each other, easy as that.\n\nEva is still refusing to work with me during the day, saying we distract each other too much and I can't keep my hands to myself.\n\nThat's only because watching her work is a turn on, I love her passion and dedication to this project, it's obvious she loves what she does and it makes me a tiny bit jealous. I like what I do but I don't love it, it's not my passion, just the family business.\n\nThe people I am used to, do charity work because it is expected of them and makes them look good in the public eye, but Eva does it because she truly is a good person.\n\nFuck, I'm such a sap, it's probably a good thing we keep our distance during the day, I don't need to like her any more than I already do, it's best if we just stick to sex at night and working separately during the day.\n\nTurns out Eva has other ideas, \"It's lunchtime let's go,\" she grabs my hand and starts dragging me behind her. I expect her to take us over to the hall where the food is but instead, she is leading me back to our place, I guess a quickie is on the cards today.\n\nAs soon as we are inside and the door is shut, she is stripping out of her clothes and dropping to her knees in front of me, I rip my shirt off at the same time she hurriedly pulls my shorts and underwear off.\n\nShe pulls my dick into her mouth and I fist her hair at the back of her head, loving the look of my dick moving in and out of her mouth. She makes eye contact while sucking my dick and it is fucking hot, she gets me even more worked up when she drops a hand between her legs and starts playing with her pussy.\n\nI release a deep groan, banging my head on the door behind me, the sight is too much.\n\nShe, is too much.\n\nNeeding to be inside her, I pull her up and position her so she is facing the door, kicking her legs apart with my feet. I thrust inside her and she screams, I pound into her body roughly, relentlessly, worrying that I am taking her too hard but she angles her ass out towards me and starts making these sexy little moans, it tells me she is enjoying herself just as much as I am.\n\nI feel my balls tighten as she contracts around me but I hold off, wanting her to find her release first. I pull out seconds after she does, barely holding on and coming all over her ass cheeks. I think my come on her body is my new favorite thing but I need to be more careful, I tend to lose my head around this girl and forget to wear a condom.\n\nThat's something I need to work on. It's also something that I have never done before in my life.\n\nThere seems to be a lot of firsts with Eva that I thought I would never experience.\n\nI clean her up and we redress, getting ready to go and get some proper food, after that I am starving but completely satisfied.\n\nWe walk over to the hall hand in hand and I can't stop the grin on my face, \"Sorry, I got kind of carried away,\" Eva says and I look over at her as she ducks her head in shame.\n\n\"Don't ever be sorry for that, that was amazing and you can get carried away with me anytime you like,\" Fuck, if I could, I would take her back to the States with me and get carried away with her all over my apartment.\n\n\"Alright,\" I watch as the tension leaves her body, I didn't even realize she was so tense. I have taken her enough times like that it's actually nice to be on the receiving end, I love the thought of her being so desperate for me. It's as though Eva is holding back from me; I don't think it's hard to work out it's because at the end of my time here, I will be leaving her behind.\n\nGreat, now I'm tense.\n\n\"Eva?\" the thought of leaving makes me desperate.\n\n\"Yeah?\" she whispers in return.\n\n\"Can we work together this afternoon?\" If I am going to leave her behind at the end of all this then I need to make sure I get all the time with her that I can.\n\n\"Sure, I'd like that,\" good, because I couldn't stay away even if I tried.\n\nI make sure to behave that afternoon, hoping if I am good that Eva will let me work with her again. I don't even complain when one of the younger volunteers come over to join us. I find it amusing that the guy has a hard on for Eva, if he was older, I might have cared but he looks about 19 years old and his face is covered in pimples.\n\nGuy doesn't stand a chance, and besides, Eva is mine.\n\n### ***\n\nI want to get Eva a present but had no idea what to get her, she doesn't seem like the jewelry type or the type to get impressed by flashy things so I am stumped. What happened to diamonds being a girl's best friend?\n\n\"Dude, hurry the fuck up we need to get back,\" Fraser is just impatient because he wants to get back to Maria, don't blame the guy since I feel the same way about Eva but I'm not leaving until I find the perfect gift.\n\n\"Just go get the supplies and come back when you're finished,\" I don't need to babysit him while he does that, he's a big boy.\n\n\"I already did that, you have been wandering around for hours, what are you doing?\" Oh shit, I check my watch and sure enough I have been at this for a while.\n\n\"I want to get a present for Eva but I don't know what to buy,\" I feel like a pansy for admitting I want to get my girl a present but Fraser doesn't heckle me like I expect, instead he leads me over to a stall that sells carved wooden animals.\n\n\"Here, she likes elephants, hurry up and I'll meet you back at the truck,\" she likes elephants huh, this could work.\n\nI settle on two wooden carvings, one of an adult elephant with huge tusks and then a smaller baby elephant. They look so cute together, I don't want to separate the set.\n\nThe lady packages them carefully into a box and I pay her more than what she asked for, she accepts my money with tears in her eyes and I feel humbled that a few hundred dollars can mean so much to some people, when I wouldn't think twice about spending that much money back home.\n\nThat night I start freaking out that getting her a gift was a stupid idea, sure we have sex but it's not like we have deep and meaningful conversations, neither of us seem that willing to share our past, content instead in the present. I have the box in my hands and keep walking to Eva's room to put the box on her bed and then back to my own room to hide the box, I can't make my fucking mind up.\n\nOn about my third trip back to Eva's room I notice her leaning against the front door with an amused look on her face. \"How long have you been standing there?\" please say she only just got there.\n\n\"Long enough,\" great, she was watching me acting like a damn fool, \"Whatcha got there?\"\n\n\"Um, I got you something in town today,\" the only other time I have given a girl anything was when I gave my prom date a corsage and I didn't even buy it, our housekeeper went and brought it for me.\n\nI'm nervous I have done the wrong thing but when I look up into Eva's eyes, they look all misty and dreamy, maybe I shouldn't have worried so much.\n\n\"You got me a present?\" When I nod, a smile slowly starts to spread across her face until soon she is beaming, obviously ecstatic at the thought of a present.\n\n\"It's not much,\" I say. She comes over to me shaking her head, still smiling and looking down at the box in her hands.\n\n\"That doesn't matter, it's the thought that counts,\" not in my world, the thought behind a gift doesn't mean shit, only the price tag does. \"May I?\" It's then I realize I have a strong grip on the box, I can't speak, I'm too nervous.\n\nInstead I nod and hand the present over, we both sit at the table and my knee bounces nervously while she opens it. When she pulls out the two elephants her eyes fill with tears and she practically jumps across the table to sit in my lap, hugging me with a death grip, \"Thank you, they are beautiful.\"\n\n\"You're welcome,\" I hug her back with just as much force, glad she likes my gift. She places both the elephants on her dresser before undressing and hoping in bed, I follow suit and we lie there facing each other, we end up falling asleep wrapped up in each other arms and it is the first night since we had sex that we haven't been all over each other.\n\nI don't mind though, the fact that she likes my gift is all I need tonight.\n\nPlus, I can just fuck her in the morning.\n\nAnd every morning after that.\n\n# Chapter 35\n\n## Eva\n\n\"I'm thinking about taking a day off,\" I glance nervously over at Fraser, waiting to hear what he has to say. We're in the kitchen, cleaning up after breakfast.\n\n\"Eva, you have worked six weeks straight. I think a day off is fine,\" I was kind of expecting an inquisition.\n\n\"Really?\" I get so excited, Jason has been amazing the last few weeks, perfect actually and I want to do something nice for him.\n\n\"Yes, really. Eva, everyone has already taken a day or two to themselves. I was going to mention it to you anyway. Jason needs a day off too, you are a slave driver...in more ways than one I hear,\" he winks at me before side stepping my karate chop.\n\nI blush, heavily, because he is right. The sex with Jason is beyond incredible, I'm annoyed with myself that I waited as long as I did to have sex with him. He seems to have moved permanently into my room now, not that I'm complaining.\n\nAlthough, it would be nicer to have sex in a bigger bed. I jumped up to straddle him the other night, only my knee didn't hit the bed, it hit air.\n\nI was lucky Jason had fast reflexes and caught me before I face planted on the floor.\n\nThings are so amazing in fact, that I have to regularly remind myself that this is temporary. He will be leaving soon, so I can't get attached. Except, I kinda, maybe, already am attached. Very attached. I think I may be falling for him. Which is stupid. Very stupid. \"So, what are you planning?\"\n\n\"Oh, um, a safari maybe? You can't come all the way to Africa without going on safari, right?\" I get slightly nervous waiting to hear what he thinks.\n\n\"I think it's perfect,\" I smile, worried I was going a little overboard with the idea, \"Why don't you give Chase a call. He's over at Hlane Royal National Park now, it's not that far and I know he would love to see you.\"\n\n\"Fraser! I didn't know that. That's perfect, I'll go call him now,\" I'm full of excitement over the idea.\n\n\"Call who now?\" I look up to see Jason walking through the door.\n\n\"Chase!\" he pauses, confused with how happy I am.\n\n\"Who, the fuck is Chase?\" I don't have time to answer his questions, I have a phone call to make.\n\nBesides, after having Amber here for that week, he deserves a little bit of payback.\n\n\"A friend,\" I say coyly, \"You'll see.\" I run over and kiss his cheek before leaving the hall.\n\nI'm nearly at the door when I hear Jason talking to Fraser, \"Dude, who the fuck is Chase!\"\n\nThe smile that's covering my face gets even bigger, I love that he's jealous.\n\n### ***\n\nThe next morning, I wake Jason, bright and early, \"Get up sleepy head,\" Jason cracks one eye open.\n\n\"You want sex already baby?\" Being the ever-obliging man that he is, he rolls over and starts fisting his cock.\n\n\"Stop that,\" I slap his hand away. That seems to wake him up.\n\n\"Babe, what are you doing? Is something wrong?\" I roll my eyes; I swear he is obsessed with sex.\n\n\"Yes, something is wrong. We are going to be late for your surprise. Now get up!\" I start jumping around on the bed, bursting with excitement.\n\n\"Surprise?\" he seems to perk up at that.\n\n\"Yes, surprise. But it doesn't involve sex, so you need to get up, get showered and dressed. Then meet me over at the hall for breakfast in ten minutes,\" he pouts, clearly upset that I didn't wake him up for sex.\n\n\"Yes, ma'am. I like it when you're bossy,\" he kisses my cheek before standing up and walking out to the bathroom.\n\nDamn, he has a nice rear end. Maybe I could join him...no! Today is going to be great. There will be time for that later.\n\nI spend the next half hour hurrying Jason along, then I practically sprint to the truck, super excited to get on the road.\n\nJason doesn't seem as thrilled about today as I am but that's probably because I won't tell him anything.\n\nIt will be better if it's a surprise.\n\n\"Babe. Where are we going?\" Jason has been whining for the last five minutes because I won't tell him where we are going.\n\n\"Jason,\" I say dramatically, \"It's not a surprise if I tell you, besides we are nearly there so quit it.\"\n\n\"Fine,\" he huffs from the passenger seat and folds his arms across his chest, staring out the window. The sun is only just starting to rise and it's a beautiful sight.\n\nHe stays silent until we reach the entrance of the Hlane Royal National Park. His arms drop to his sides and he stares at me in wonder, \"National park, as in...safari?\"\n\n\"Yes!\" I'm giddy with excitement. I pull up outside Chase's office, running around to Jason's side of the vehicle. He still hasn't said anything and I suddenly get nervous. \"Is it okay that I did this?\" my voice seems to snap him out of his daydream. He exits the truck, taking my face in his hands.\n\n\"Eva, it's more than okay. I can't believe you did something like this for me. No one has ever done something like this for me. I love it,\" he kisses me, \"Thank you.\"\n\nOur kiss starts off gentle, but soon turns needy, he spins me around and backs me into the side of the Land Rover. \"I need inside you, baby, now,\" he has moved down and is kissing my neck as we hear a throat clear behind us. Shit. I forgot we parked outside Chase's office. I push Jason off me and try to straighten my appearance while not looking as embarrassed and as flustered as I feel.\n\n\"Hi, Chase!\" My voice is very high pitched and I don't think I'm pulling off casually very well after that kiss. I look over at Jason who is looking at Chase.\n\nWhen he turns back to me, he is laughing and I understand why. Yesterday, he was jealous over Chase but after getting a look at the sixty something year old man in front of him, he isn't so jealous anymore.\n\nI first met Chase in Cape Town, he is passionate about animals and has spent his career trying to stop the poaching of wildlife all around Africa. It's a hard battle to fight but I'm glad there are people as dedicated as he is.\n\n\"Eva, it's good to see you,\" he has a very strong South African accent. He gives me a hug before turning his attention to Jason, \"And you must be Jason, it's nice to meet the person who has made Eva so happy,\" I blush. I only told Chase about Jason yesterday, but I may have been talking like an excited school girl with a crush. A big fat crush.\n\n\"Yes sir, it's nice to meet you too,\" they shake hands and I'm glad Chase is ignoring the fact that we were practically dry humping in front of him. I need to get myself under control.\n\nWe head off on safari and Chase starts telling us about the National Park and the animals we are likely to see.\n\nJason and I are sitting in the back of an old Jeep that has no doors or roof, the perfect vehicle for a safari. Jason has his arm wrapped around my shoulder, tucking me away into his side.\n\nAs we are gazing out over the landscape he leans down and kisses my hair, \"This is amazing, Eva. Thank you,\" I smile shyly up at Jason and he kisses me tenderly on the lips.\n\n\"You're welcome,\" I whisper.\n\n# Chapter 36\n\n## Jason\n\nI still can't believe I'm here, on safari, with Eva.\n\nWhen I booked my ticket to Africa, the thought crossed my mind about going on a safari but I figured I wouldn't have the time. I also figured that I would be able to go on safari at any stage in my life that I wanted, so it wasn't really a big deal to miss out.\n\nBut being here with Eva, that's special. My only regret is that I don't own a better camera. Eva has one and is busy taking pictures of all the animals.\n\nMeanwhile, I'm busy taking pictures of her with my phone. Luckily, I had brought it with me, it's been on airplane mode since I came here as I didn't want to deal with anyone from back home, but I'm glad I'm going to be able to take these memories back home with me.\n\nOne of the first animals we see is a couple of giraffes, eating from high up in the tree tops. I always thought they were strange animals but they are magnificent to see in the wild. One of the giraffes must think Eva looks like a tasty snack as he makes his way over to us, sticking his head in to sniff her. She is squealing and laughing, burrowing deeper into my side. I don't think this day could get any better and it's only just started.\n\nChase is driving slowly around the park, slowing down or stopping all together when we come across some animals.\n\nSeeing a pride of lions sunbaking is the highlight for me, they don't even seem too concerned that we are parked up, watching them. I manage to get a photo of Eva with a few lion clubs playing behind her, that one is my favorite and I make it my screen saver.\n\nWe spend quite a while watching over the lions, taking pictures and selfies, Chase even offers to take a few of us together.\n\nEva is absolutely fascinated by the elephants, she says no matter how many times she sees them, they still take her breath away. I feel the same way about her.\n\nWe are lucky enough to see a herd of elephants gathering around a waterhole. They vary in size and the pride even has a few calves. They are incredible to watch in the water, the calves are rolling around in the mud, splashing about just like a small child would. Seeing Eva that happy makes me want to go on a safari every day. Or maybe just bring a couple of elephants back to the village with us.\n\nBefore we know it, the morning is over and we make our way back to Chase's office for lunch and a toilet stop. I try to convince Eva that we should have a quickie in the bathroom, she seemed really tempted but chickened out at the last minute.\n\nWe spend the afternoon driving around a different area of the park. We manage to see a hippo in the Umbuluzana River, we can only see its ears, eyes and a bit of its back sticking out of the water. But Chase says that's enough, that they can run surprisingly fast and it is smart to be weary of them.\n\nHe also points out a couple of Marabou Storks which are about the ugliest birds I have even seen. Eva and I get into a fit of giggles over the things. I lose count over the number of animals we see; the whole day is simply amazing. Between all the animals and the stolen kisses with Eva, I never want the day to end.\n\nOn the way back to Chase's office in the late afternoon, a leopard decides to stroll next to us for a few minutes, the way its body moves is graceful yet powerful, I would love to see it in action, hunting down its prey, running at full speed. Now that would be a sight to see.\n\nAfter a while he must get bored and stops, taking off in a different direction behind the Jeep. The fact that you can get so close to the animals surprises me, I thought we would need binoculars or something and I was surprised this morning that Chase never offered us any.\n\nWhen the time comes for us to leave, neither of us wants to go. Chase laughs, saying we are welcome back any time.\n\nI hope that we have time to come here again before I have to leave. Or maybe I could surprise Eva this time by organizing something similar.\n\nI go to jump in the passenger seat but Eva stops me and throws the keys in my direction, I'm nervous about driving over here but I should get used to it seeing as I want to help out a bit more. Maybe I can start driving to pick up the volunteers or doing the supply run, although both of those things are more fun with Eva by my side.\n\nI haven't driven a stick shift in a long time and I'm enjoying Eva laughing and hassling me until I get used to the vehicle. The only time my hand leaves hers on the way back is when I need to change gears.\n\nWhen we arrive back it's dark and we are both exhausted. Neither of us can be bothered going to the hall to get something to eat so we go straight to bed instead.\n\nI snuggle up to Eva and for the second time in two weeks I don't try to have sex with her. Today was about more than that. Today was truly special.\n\nEva drifts off to sleep first and I'm staring down at her peaceful face wishing, not for the first time, that this was my life.\n\n# Chapter 37\n\n## Eva\n\nJason has a month left with us. I'm trying not to think about it but it keeps niggling at the back of my mind.\n\nEarlier in the day we discovered we needed to drive into Simunye and get some more supplies. Fraser must have sensed that I was feeling down as he suggested the four of us go together and then hang around to grab dinner before heading back. Like a double date.\n\nSo here we all are, Fraser and Maria are both in the front. Jason and I are in the back.\n\nWe didn't last long on opposite sides of the truck. Not long after we took off, he unbuckled my seatbelt, pulling me closer to him before adjusting the middle seatbelt over my hips. I'm currently tucked under Jason's arm and it's the best feeling in the world. He makes me feel safe, loved. Loved. That's a stupid thing to say, there is no way he loves me, but I feel, I don't know, cherished. I feel cherished when I'm with him.\n\nFraser drops us off at the restaurant first, saying he and Maria will be back after they have gotten the supplies we need.\n\n\"You look beautiful Eva,\" he can be so sweet sometimes.\n\n\"Thank you,\" I blush, I still haven't gotten used to Jason saying things like that to me.\n\n\"I can't wait to get you home tonight,\" that's more like it. Jason leads me over to one of the booths inside the restaurant, sliding in after me. \"I can never get enough of you,\" he has his body angled so that we are hidden away from the rest of the restaurant. It's still early so not many people are here yet.\n\nJason places his hand on my thigh, slowly running his hand between my legs, moving upwards. My breath hitches.\n\n\"Jason, what do you think you are doing?\" I look around but no one is paying us any attention. This is the first time I have worn a dress in a long time and I'm regretting my choice to wear it tonight.\n\n\"I can't wait baby; I need to touch you. I miss you,\" he kisses my lips sweetly, tenderly.\n\n\"How can you miss me when I'm right here?\" His fingers are rubbing against my panties. One finger slips inside, then two. Gently caressing my folds.\n\n\"I didn't get my lunch time quickie, you were busy, left me high and dry at our place,\" I love hearing him say 'our place'. I sometimes catch myself fantasizing about what our lives would be like as a real couple.\n\nI also love what he is doing with his hand. I bite down on my lip pretty hard to keep quiet, damn, that's going to leave a mark but if I don't bite my lip, I'm afraid of the sounds that are going to come out of my mouth.\n\n\"Jason,\" I'm rubbing myself on his hand now, hot with need, \"Jason, you need to stop, we're in public,\" I don't want him to stop. Ever.\n\n\"If you want me to stop, then hurry up and come,\" his fingers plunge inside me while his thumb is rubbing my clit, I lean forward grasping the edge of the table, knuckles turning white with the force it is taking not to cry out. He works me faster and faster, before I know it, I climax, all over his hand.\n\n\"That's my girl,\" he slows his movements until he eventually stops, pulling his hand free and he uses a napkin to clean himself up. When I come down from my high, I am mortified over what just took place.\n\n\"I can't believe you just did that!\" I whisper hiss at him. He chuckles softly at my reaction.\n\n\"You weren't complaining a minute ago, when you were rubbing yourself all over my hand,\" Jason is looking at me with a smug expression.\n\n\"Shhhh!\" I hold my hand up over his mouth, \"Someone will hear you,\" fuck, \"I need to go clean myself up.\" This is so embarrassing, I just came in a damn booth in a restaurant, how trashy. But fuck, if it wasn't incredible.\n\nI roughly shove Jason out of the booth and high tail it to the ladies' room. I quickly clean myself up the best I can before washing my hands and I take a look at my reflection. Holy shit. I looked like I was just fucked.\n\nSomehow my hair got all messed up and I madly run my fingers through it, trying to make it presentable again. There is also a mark on my damn lip, fucking Jason, there is no way I will be able to hide this.\n\nReluctantly I leave my sanctuary that is the women's rest room and return to our table, I find a beer sitting in front of Jason and a wine where I was sitting. Fraser and Maria are also now sitting opposite Jason, how long was I in the bathroom for?\n\nJason stands up to let me back in the booth, kissing my cheek and rubbing my ass as I slide past him. The man is insatiable. I get questioning looks from both Fraser and Maria; they know something's up.\n\n\"What's with the lip?\" Fraser asks. I can always count on him to point out exactly what I am trying to hide. I reach up and touch it before answering.\n\n\"Oh, um, I tripped earlier and bit my lip,\" tripped? Why can't I be better at lying.\n\n\"Riigghttt,\" I can feel my face heating up and I start to stutter out a response, feeling like I need to redeem myself.\n\n\"Baby, have you looked at the menu yet?\" small miracles do exist.\n\n\"Oh, no, I haven't,\" I pick up the menu and hold it so close to my face that I can barely make out the words.\n\nBy the time the waitress comes around to take our orders I am still too flustered to make a choice. Jason saves me once again and orders for the both of us. This is going to be a long night.\n\nI notice during the night that Jason is a bit vague when it comes to his past. I guess I never noticed it before considering I don't like to talk about my past either. But tonight, it's obvious.\n\n\"So, Jason. What do you do in Seattle?\" I think Fraser has noticed my looks throughout the night and is trying to help me out.\n\n\"Um, I work for my father,\" yup, cagey alright.\n\n\"What does he do?\" Maria seems oblivious and generally interested in getting to know Jason. She is a sweet girl.\n\n\"He, uh, just owns a bunch of companies, he likes acquiring new things,\" he seems uncomfortable.\n\n\"Do you like working for you dad?\" He hesitates before answering.\n\n\"No, he's an asshole,\" the whole table bursts out laughing. I cover his hand with mine under the table. He smiles at me gratefully, \"I'm sorry, I don't like talking about him. He's kind of controlling.\"\n\n\"That's okay, let's talk about something else,\" I realize it doesn't matter if Jason is vague about his past or his life. All that matters, is that he is here with me now. I'll take what I can get where he is concerned.\n\nThe rest of the night goes by smoothly and we end up driving back the same way we drove there. Although this time, Jason can't stop whispering in my ear how badly he wants to be inside me. I squirm in my seat, getting turned on and he knows it.\n\n\"You two behaving back there?\" Fraser is eyeing us from the front seat.\n\n\"Yes...dad,\" he shakes his head at me. \"It does kind of feel like I just had dinner with my parents and my boyfriend, now you are being all judgy, wondering if he is trying to feel me up in the back seat,\" I can feel Jason's laugh vibrate through my body.\n\n\"For the record, I am definitely trying to feel her up. I am also going to have lots and lots of hot sex with her tonight,\" Jason says. How can he be so open about these things?\n\n\"Jason! Would you really say that?\" he looks at me with a panty watering smile covering his face.\n\n\"No, but I would be thinking it,\" I turn to look up at him and he winks in return.\n\n\"Well, if I am the judgy father. Then let me ask the hard-hitting questions. Jason?\" In response, Jason sits up straight in his seat and adjusts his shirt.\n\n\"Yes sir?\" Maria looks back at me and rolls her eyes.\n\n\"Are you going to come back and see our Eva? Our next project is near our base, in Cape Town,\" I tense, holding my breath, waiting for Jason's answer.\n\n\"I would love to come back,\" he leans down to whisper his answer in my ear. All it does is make me more turned on.\n\nThankfully we pull back up near the hall moments later. Jason can't get me out of the truck fast enough.\n\nHe hoists me over his shoulder yelling out 'thanks for dinner' while running back to our place. I'm screaming and laughing at Jason to put me down. He smacks me on the butt and doesn't put me down until we reach the door. Even then I'm still in his arms while he is trying to work the lock one handed.\n\n\"Jason,\" I giggle, \"Just let me help you.\"\n\n\"Fine, you do it. I would rather my hands be on you anyway,\" to prove his point his hand slips down between my legs and he begins rubbing me through my panties. After we stumble inside Jason orders me to strip. \"No, no, no. Wait,\" he sits down in one of the chairs by the table, \"Now strip.\"\n\n\"Really?\" I feel kind of self-conscious.\n\n\"Yes really, baby, strip for me,\" he pulls his shirt over his head, not looking where he tosses it. His shoes and pants are ripped off next.\n\n\"That was fast, but are you really going to watch me strip wearing your socks?\" I can't help but laugh at the image in front of me.\n\n\"Fine,\" he huffs like he is angry but is smiling when he says it. The socks come off but then so do his underwear. He leans back in his chair, hand firmly around his shaft. Slowly working it up and down, \"Now, strip.\"\n\nI hesitate before doing what he says. His eyes are locked on my body the entire time, giving me encouragement to continue. The way he looks at me makes me feel sexy.\n\nI slowly and seductively pull my dress over my head, wishing I was wearing more clothing to take off, I swing my hips and stick my butt out. I figure I am doing a good job as he is practically drooling.\n\nI step over the chair, straddling him but not touching. My breasts are inches from his face. I slowly reach behind my back, unclasping my bra, I hold it for a few seconds, teasing him before letting it fall away. Jason sucks in a breath before licking one of my nipples.\n\n\"Uh, uh, uh. No touching,\" he pouts but complies. I step away from him only to turn around and repeat my position but backwards. I slowly lower myself until I can feel his erection poking into my bottom. He groans loudly.\n\n\"Please let me touch you,\" he is completely breathless.\n\n\"Not yet,\" I lean back into him, sticking my breasts out. I begin rocking my bottom, slowly grinding into him. I reach up with both hands and start playing with my nipples.\n\n\"Fucckkkk baby,\" he kisses my shoulder, \"You have no idea how amazing you are.\" His hand dives straight down into my panties and my retort about him not touching me dies as soon as his fingers flick my clit.\n\n\"Ohhhhh, Jason!\" He starts pumping his fingers in and out of me, I'm desperate for his touch, \"Jason, I need you inside me.\"\n\n\"Okay, baby. Get a condom,\" I comply with his order and as soon as I have finished rolling the condom down his shaft, he grabs my hips, positioning me above him. Teasing me like I was doing to him, moments earlier.\n\nI'm trying to pull myself down on his penis but he is holding me above him. Letting me dip down only to pull me back up again. His tongue is swirling around my nipples.\n\n\"Jason! PLEASE! I need you,\" it's scary just how desperate I am for this man.\n\n\"My girl is hungry for me?\" he bites down on my nipple and I cry out.\n\n\"YES! Fuck, yes! Jason, please, fuck me,\" without warning he slams me down onto his dick, filling me all the way to the hilt.\n\n\"You like that?\" he is kissing my neck, working his way up to my ear.\n\n\"Yes,\" my yes comes out sounding more like a breathless moan than a word.\n\n\"Ride me,\" he leans back in the chair, hands on my thighs, watching me. His eyes devour my body as I ride him. Bucking wildly with need. This man makes me crazy.\n\nThe things I feel when I am with him are overwhelming.\n\nThe word love rolls around my head, alongside the word ecstasy but I quickly shut that notion down. Saying that word wouldn't do anyone any good.\n\nHe reaches down between us to rub my clit with his thumb. I explode.\n\n\"Jasooonnn! Yeeesssssss!\" Jason has to take over, lifting me up and down by my waist.\n\n\"Fuuucckkkkkk!\" I can feel him explode inside of me and the feeling sets me off again.\n\nI collapse on top of Jason, completely spent, completely full, of him.\n\n# Chapter 38\n\n## Jason\n\n\"What do you want to do after dinner? Do you want to go for a quick walk around the village?\"\n\nNo, I want to fuck you.\n\nSomehow, I don't think that response would go over very well. But then again, maybe it would, she seems to be into having sex with me about as much as I'm into having sex with her and I like having sex with her, a lot. I pretend to think about my answer.\n\n\"How about we read one of your books?\" she instantly turns bright red.\n\n\"One of? I just have that one,\" she is acting coy with me, trying to pretend that she doesn't read porn.\n\n\"Please, I went through your underwear drawer this morning and you have like five porn books in there,\" whoops. Maybe I shouldn't have mentioned I went through her things, she looks angry.\n\n\"First of all!\" She looks really worked up, \"They are not porn.\" She lowers her voice to almost a whisper when she says 'porn' and looks around to make sure no one is listening to us, \"They are romance novels, there is a _big_ difference.\"\n\n\"Sure,\" I really shouldn't be winding her up any further.\n\n\"Urgh, just forget it!\" She turns, getting ready to storm away when she turns back around quickly, pointing her finger in my face, \"And what the fuck were you doing in my underwear drawer anyway, that's an invasion of my privacy,\" yeah, really shouldn't have admitted I did that.\n\n\"I was just seeing if you had any sexy underwear,\" yup, should have kept my mouth shut.\n\n\"Sexy underwear? Are you kidding me?!\" She is really, really mad.\n\n\"I'm sorry, I didn't think it was that big of a deal. I was looking for a thong or something, I was going to ask you to wear it when you got out of the shower but you only own granny panties,\" I groan, clearly digging a hole I can't get out of.\n\n\"Granny panties!\" she practically screams at me.\n\n\"Fuck, wait, shit, no...Eva wait, I didn't mean it like that,\" Damn it. Now she's stormed off. Why the fuck did I have to say that? We were finally, finally doing well and I go and fuck it all up.\n\nWhat the hell is wrong with me?\n\nShe obviously took that the wrong way.\n\nI'm such a fucking idiot.\n\nSometimes I wish I wasn't such a player, maybe if I had a few more girlfriends over the years I would have more experience with this shit.\n\nGirlfriend?\n\nIs Eva even my girlfriend?\n\nNeither one of us have brought that subject up but it sure feels like she's my girlfriend.\n\nAll I know is that I really care about Eva and I need to find a way to make it up to her, if I don't, sex could be off the table for good.\n\nI shiver at the horrifying though.\n\n### ***\n\nAbout five minutes ago, Eva came storming in and went straight to her room. She didn't slam the door though and it's only partially closed which makes me think that I still have a shot at getting laid tonight. Or at the very least she might let me sleep in her bed.\n\nI have a plan but I'm not sure if it's going to piss her off more or make her let me sleep in her bed again.\n\nI may have stolen one of her books earlier, I really did want to read one with her, I thought it would be sexy. I grab the book and sit on the floor, leaning against the wall. With the crack in her door I can see the foot of her bed, she is lying on top of the bed but not under the covers.\n\nI open the book to where I left off the other week and start reading out loud, she doesn't move at first but I know she's awake, no one falls asleep that fast.\n\nI read for another twenty minutes before I get to any real action, I was starting to think she was right and the book was only going to be filled with romance.\n\nThe main characters are having sex and it's actually pretty steamy, I start to put on voices and imitate the moaning and groaning noises, trying to get any sort of a reaction out of her.\n\nThe thought of her going to sleep being mad at me, damn near breaks my heart. It's a foreign feeling to be so caught up in the emotions of another person but I feel like my happiness is dependent on her happiness.\n\nHow the fuck does that even work?\n\nIs that some kind of weird girlfriend juju?\n\nOr is it something more? I'm so out of my depth with this girl but what I do know is that I need her and it's more than a feeling of needing to be inside her. My feelings towards her are greater than sex, she could never have sex with me again but I would still need her in my life.\n\nI still need her to be happy and I would do just about anything to make her happy.\n\n# Chapter 39\n\n## Eva\n\nI'm trying really hard to be mad at Jason but he's making that very difficult at the moment.\n\nHe is outside my door reading out loud to me, I thought it was sweet until he got to a sex scene, I have read this book before so I know what happens but I find myself on edge listening to him.\n\nSlowly, I move my feet to the floor and sit up on the bed. His voice pauses briefly before starting back up again. I make my way to the door and peer out of the small crack, he is sitting on the floor with the book in one hand resting on his knee. His other leg is resting on the ground but his feet are touching.\n\nI swing the door open and Jason peers up at me briefly, but then goes straight back to reading. I find my body moves on its own accord and before I know it, I'm curled up in the small gap his legs have made and I rest my head back against his chest. He kisses the top of my head before carrying on reading.\n\nHe reads for some time before declaring his bum is dead and he needs to move. We both stand up and stretch our stiff muscles.\n\n\"Eva, I'm sorry about earlier, I shouldn't have gone through your things. It's just that, well, I kind of had a dream about you where you stripped off and you were wearing a thong with thigh high stockings and big high heels. You were sexy as fuck and I wanted to see you like that in real life.\" He looks down at the floor the whole time he is telling me this, clearly nervous that I'm going to get angry again.\n\n\"You dreamt about me?\" I can't help but swoon over the fact that he dreamt about me.\n\n\"I've dreamt about you pretty much every night since I first arrived,\" he says. Awwwww, that's kind of sweet. I can't help but laugh at my stupidity.\n\n\"That's a much better explanation than what I came up with in my head,\" his head snaps up towards mine.\n\n\"Really?\" He moves towards me and wraps his arms around my back, \"What did you think?\"\n\n\"It's kind of embarrassing now...\" I trail off, not really wanting to tell him what I thought. He grabs my chin and tilts my face up to his, kissing my lips softly.\n\n\"Please tell me,\" oh that face, I don't think I can say no to him.\n\n\"I thought that maybe, well, that I didn't turn you on anymore, that you thought I looked ugly in my granny panties and needed something extra to get you going,\" he kisses my forehead before leaning down and whispering in my ear.\n\n\"Baby, trust me, I could never find you ugly, not ever. I think you are the most beautiful girl that I have ever seen,\" he looks so honest that I find myself believing him.\n\n\"Really?\" that comment might have excited me a little too much.\n\n\"Really. Now, will you let me share your bed?\" He runs his hands down my backside, rubbing his hands all over my butt cheeks, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.\n\n\"Yes,\" he starts fist pumping his hands in the air, \"But...\"\n\n\"But what?\" he only has one eyebrow raised now.\n\n\"You can't go through my things, you must be punished,\" he grins, standing up in a hurry.\n\n\"Deal,\" he walks straight into my room, throwing his clothes all over the floor.\n\n\"Jason, I'm serious,\" he glances at me over his shoulder before lying down on my bed, naked.\n\n\"So am I, start the punishment of no sex, only foreplay,\" he gestures to his penis with his head. I ignore him and move over to my dresser, changing into my pajamas.\n\nHe looks like he wants to protest but instead moves over on the bed, making a space for me to curl up next to him.\n\n\"Fine, come here then. I'll take you any way I can get you,\" that comment does more to my heart than it should.\n\nI'm not very good at casual and I'm falling for this man, deeply.\n\nMy initial instincts were right, I let this man into my bed and he is going to break my heart.\n\nNo, he's going to destroy it.\n\n# Chapter 40\n\n## Jason\n\nJabu and I are finishing putting together some framing for one of the houses when Fraser walks over to us. He looks awkward.\n\n\"You right, mate?\" I ask, he can be super strange sometimes.\n\n\"Yeah, yeah, just thought I should give you the heads up on something,\" huh? I poke my head between the frames.\n\n\"What is it?\" I can't help but panic, thinking something might be wrong with my girl.\n\n\"Well, you have probably heard that one of the doctors that works with Doctors Without Borders will be coming here to check out some of the villagers tomorrow. Provide immunizations, that sort of thing,\" he won't meet my eyes.\n\n\"Yeah, so? What does that have to do with me?\" I ask and he clears his throat.\n\n\"One of the doctors, Spencer, has a thing for Eva,\" my blood boils at his statement.\n\n\"The fuck?!\" Why am I only hearing about this now? \"How come Eva hasn't mentioned him?\" before I realize what I'm doing, I'm up in Fraser's face. Jabu puts a steady hand on my shoulder.\n\n\"Calm down my friend, do not get worked up over this. She has feelings for you, not this Spencer,\" yeah, that doesn't help me right now.\n\n\"How would you know? Have you met him?\" Jabu shakes his head.\n\n\"No, but I overheard Eva and Maria talking about him yesterday,\" I want to shake him, that wasn't an explanation.\n\n\"What were they saying?\" Now I'm getting mad at Jabu. Someone better tell me what the fuck is going on.\n\n\"Nothing my friend. Maria just wanted to know if it would be awkward to see Spencer again. Eva said no because she has you,\" that only makes me feel slightly more relaxed.\n\n\"Why would it be awkward?\" I ask. Jabu gives me nothing so I turn my attention to Fraser. \"Why the fuck would it be awkward between them?\"\n\n\"Um, we run into him a bit on different projects and like, last year, well, Eva went on a date with him.\" Fraser backs up as he is speaking which is a wise move, I'm fucking livid.\n\n\"WHAT?!\" I growl.\n\n\"It was just one date, then she turned him down. No big deal, but I thought you should know since he will most likely hit on her tomorrow. I didn't want you to freak out and not know about their past,\" he holds his hands up in a position of surrender.\n\n\"Fuck this,\" I storm away from both of them going in search of Eva. I do a whole fucking lap of the village before I find her, near where I started at the Church, \"Eva.\"\n\n\"Hey, Jason. What's going on?\" She seems happy to see me but quickly becomes puzzled by my attitude.\n\n\"I don't know, you got something to tell me?\" She laughs but it comes out forced.\n\n\"Fraser talked to you, didn't he?\" she gets nervous and starts fidgeting with her top.\n\n\"Yes, Fraser fucking talked to me. When were you going to tell me!\" I have this feeling that I'm overreacting but right now I feel justified in my actions.\n\n\"Calm down,\" I really wish people would stop telling me to calm down. \"Hey,\" she grabs my face in both of her hands, leaning up to kiss me. I try to pull away but she doesn't let me, she drags me back down.\n\nIt doesn't take long before I'm putty in her hands. The feel of her lips against mine makes me crazy with need.\n\n\"Let's go back to our place and fuck.\" Seriously? My girl isn't normally this bold, well not during the day at least, she must be really horny for me, I wonder what has gotten into her.\n\nWait.\n\n\"Are you distracting me?\" She looks guilty. Bingo, \"Damn it, Eva. Do you like this guy? Just tell me the truth, I can handle it,\" she looks doubtful and she should be, I can't handle it.\n\nThe thought of her with someone else makes me want to kill this Spencer prick.\n\n\"He is a nice person who is good at his job but no, I don't like him the same way I like you,\" I instantly relax.\n\n\"Are you sure?\" I need her to be super sure, I can't have her ditching me tomorrow for the fancy doctor.\n\n\"Yes, I'm sure,\" she kisses me again and this time I don't resist. She pulls back but I don't let her out of my arms, \"I like you like this,\" the smiles that spreads over her face is gorgeous.\n\n\"Like what?\" a psychopath?\n\n\"Jealous,\" she starts kissing my neck, \"Let's go take a break. Together.\"\n\n\"I'm not jealous,\" I am jealous. Fuck, I'm never jealous. Ever. She chuckles in response.\n\n\"It's not so funny now is it,\" evil little thing is laughing.\n\n\"What do you mean?\" nothing about this situation seems funny to me.\n\n\"Remember Amber? I got jealous over her and you loved it,\" she's right, I did. I kiss her on the lips softly before answering.\n\n\"That was different,\" because she was the push you needed to be with me.\n\n\"How?\" she looks incredulous.\n\n\"Easy. I never went on a date with Amber,\" I only used her to my advantage to get with you.\n\n\"Oh,\" she looks down at the ground.\n\n\"Yeah. Oh.\" I'm being too hard on her, it's not like I'm a saint, it's just the thought of her with someone else causes my chest to ache.\n\n\"It was just one date. I told him afterwards that I just wanted to stay friends,\" well that's good to know.\n\n\"Fine. But did you kiss him?\" Fuck. Her face says it all. She kissed him. I groan.\n\n\"It was just a peck! I swear. I didn't even like it,\" I'm not happy. At. All. \"I'm sorry. Let me make it up to you.\"\n\n\"Fine. But you're doing all the work,\" her laughter is like music, it's contagious.\n\n\"Fine by me. Let's go,\" I trail behind Eva, checking her ass out the whole way back to our room.\n\n# Chapter 41\n\n## Eva\n\nI like jealous Jason; it makes him extra attentive.\n\nAfter our quickie yesterday afternoon, he took me on top of the kitchen counter while I was trying to make a coffee last night and then again this morning. I am worn out, but I have never been so completely satisfied.\n\nI almost forgot that Spencer was coming out here today, until I saw the Doctors Without Borders vehicle parked up against the hall.\n\n\"Eva! How are you?\" Spencer comes out of the hall to greet me, he envelopes me in a big hug...that he holds for just a second too long, before looking me up and down, \"You look amazing.\"\n\n\"Thanks, and uh, I've been good, really good,\" just then Jason decides to come and stake his claim over me.\n\n\"Hey baby, why didn't you wait for me?\" His arms go around my middle and he kisses the side of my cheek before looking over at Spencer. He is not happy, \"Sorry, didn't see you there. And you are...?\"\n\n\"Spencer,\" he doesn't look happy either, I roll my eyes. This is turning into a pissing contest.\n\n\"Right, Spencer. Nice to meet you,\" neither one of them offers to shake the other's hand. This is ridiculous.\n\n\"You too. And you must be...?\" Great, they are playing at the same game.\n\n\"Jason, Eva's boyfriend.\" Boyfriend huh? I turn my head to look up at Jason, he smirks and kisses me on lips, \"Come on baby, let's get you fed.\" He puts his arm around my shoulders and leads me away from Spencer.\n\nOnce we get inside, Jason finally let's go and heads over to the breakfast table. Once his attention is back on me, I simply raise my eyebrows at him.\n\n\"What? The guy was a dick,\" he says and I laugh.\n\n\"How do you figure that? You spent about two seconds with him,\" he huffs at my statement.\n\n\"Yeah, two seconds too long. Look, the guy looks like he walked straight out of an Abercrombie and Fitch ad. Dude is trying way too hard,\" Jason is pouting and it's adorable.\n\n\"Sure,\" I decide to let it go, it's fun having Jason go all possessive over me but it's not fun when the shoe is on the other foot.\n\n\"So, where are we working today?\" his question surprises me.\n\n\"We?\" we never work together, it started out that way because I was trying to avoid him and then it continued because we don't get anything done when we are around each other.\n\n\"Yes, we,\" he looks completely serious, \"I'm not leaving you alone. That douchebag is dying to ask you out again.\"\n\n\"But I would say no,\" I would say no to anyone who asked.\n\n\"Don't care, you're mine. He has to get with the program.\"\n\n'Mine,' I like the sound of that.\n\n\"Okay, fine,\" it's ridiculous, but sweet. I guess I should be more worried if he was okay with Spencer asking me out again.\n\nI can deal with this.\n\n### ***\n\nI cannot deal with this.\n\nJason was deadly serious when he said he wasn't letting me out of his sight today. We are back to our place for lunch and he is trying to come into the bathroom with me while I am peeing.\n\n\"Jason, really? I need to pee. Spencer isn't even in here. Get out. Please,\" Jason looks around the bathroom like Spencer could actually be hiding in here somewhere before relenting and leaving. Finally. I get two minutes alone to empty my bladder. I take my time and it must make Jason impatient.\n\n\"You about done yet?\" he is so demanding today.\n\n\"Yes!\" His caveman attitude is starting to turn me on.\n\nI exit the bathroom, \"Hey, think we have time for a quickie before we have to get back to wor- oh, fuck.\" Jason is standing at the door, arms folded across his chest with a shit eating grin on his face. In the doorway is Spencer, looking shocked and highly uncomfortable.\n\n\"Um, maybe this is a bad time. I'll come back,\" Spencer says. I really need to look around before I start speaking.\n\n\"Okay,\" Jason slams the door shut in his face.\n\n\"Jason, that was rude,\" I stand with my hands on my hips, glaring at him.\n\n\"I don't care, it's obvious we're together and he still came over here to ask you out,\" he glares at me right back.\n\n\"You don't know that,\" although it's probably true.\n\n\"I do know that,\" he leans down to kiss my neck, bringing a hand up to palm my breast and leans down to whisper in my ear, \"Now how bout that quickie.\"\n\n# Chapter 42\n\n## Jason\n\nFucking Fraser. He asked for my help for one second. One second, to help lift something that his weak ass couldn't help him do and now Eva's gone.\n\nI find her going over plans with Jabu and sure enough Spencer is with her. I come up behind Eva, putting my hands around her waist, kissing her neck and staking my claim. This dude needs to learn to take a hint, \"Hey baby.\"\n\n\"Hey, Spencer was just giving me a report on the health of the villagers,\" I'm sure he was.\n\n\"What? Doctor, patient confidentiality doesn't apply here,\" I'm being petty but I can seem to stop. Eva belongs with someone like him, she deserves better than me and it's eating me up inside.\n\n\"Jason,\" she sounds annoyed with me. I whisper in her ear, as I don't want anyone to over hear me.\n\n\"I'm sorry baby, I just don't like him,\" she gives me a warning look over her shoulder that seems to say 'be nice'.\n\n\"It's fine, Eva. Jason obviously isn't aware of our procedures here. You're just volunteering here, _temporarily_ aren't you?\" Fuck. Hit me in the balls why don't you.\n\nThe way he says temporarily rubs me the wrong way, I hate this bastard even more now than I did when I first found out about him.\n\n\"That's right,\" I reluctantly say but he cuts me off before I can say that I will be coming back.\n\nHis half smile is evil, \"Well, enjoy your little holiday fling. Eva, I will see you in Cape Town,\" she tenses underneath me. I don't know what to say. He's right. Well not about this being a fling. She is so much more than a fling, but I keep forgetting it's temporary. When it comes down to it, I'm not sure I will be able to leave her.\n\n\"Eva, I-\"\n\n\"Do not worry my friends, most great love stories start out small,\" Jabu states. Wise man that one. Eva relaxes against me.\n\n\"Don't worry about him. Let's go make a start on dinner prep,\" Eva turns to me with a smile on her face but it seems hesitant. I think she liked being reminded that this was temporary about as much as I did.\n\n\"Okay, baby, let's go,\" I lean down to kiss her, lingering on her lips. Needing the reassurance that she isn't going to drop me when she realizes she can do better than me. Much better.\n\nI don't relax again until I see Spencer's truck driving away, unfortunately he left after dinner.\n\nThat was the longest fucking day of my life. I have never been that scared about something being taken away from me. Which is unfair to Eva.\n\nSince it's now safe to leave her alone, I quietly slip away and go back to our place. I go to enter her room and hesitate, I should back off, give her some space. It might make it easier when I have to leave if there is some distance between us.\n\nI go into my bedroom and lie down on my bed; I shut my eyes and soon drift off to sleep.\n\nIt feels like seconds later that I'm being shaken awake. Eva is standing over me and she looks like she's in pain. I sit up, grasping her face in my hands.\n\n\"Eva, baby? What's wrong? Are you hurt?\" she sniffles.\n\n\"Why are you in here?\" her voice is quiet, shaky.\n\n\"What?\" I looking around, realizing now why she is upset, \"Oh, That.\"\n\n\"Oh?\" Shit, I've made her cry, \"So what? You've had your fun and now you're done?\"\n\n\"No,\" she turns to leave, \"No, Eva. I promise you that's not what this is.\"\n\n\"Then what is it?\" She looks so vulnerable that my heart hurts. Fuck, I'm a bastard.\n\n\"It's just, what Spencer said earlier. He's right, it's tem-\" I can't even say it, \"You deserve someone like him, not someone like me,\" I lie back on the bed, closing my eyes.\n\nThis is it; she's going to walk away from me.\n\nShe should walk away from me.\n\nIf she knew the truth about me, if she knew that I had been lying to her this entire time then she would kick my ass to the curb. Hell, it's exactly what I deserve.\n\nIt's better this way, she deserves the whole world and I can't give that to her. I can't give her a damn thing.\n\nI don't hear anything at first and then I feel her lift off the bed. I can feel my heart breaking inside my chest. I don't hear her footsteps but I do hear rustling. What is she doing? Why hasn't she left yet?\n\n\"Jason, look at me.\"\n\nI look up and my heart stops.\n\nEva is standing in front of me, completely naked. She truly is the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on.\n\nI know that I don't deserve her, that I'm an asshole for wanting to keep her when I know I can't, but fuck I want to keep her real bad.\n\n\"Eva,\" I clear my throat, \"What are you doing?\"\n\n\"I'm going back to my room, you can either follow me and we can continue how we were before today happened or you can just lie there and this can be over. It's your choice,\" she turns and leaves the room.\n\nWhat the fuck am I doing? I jump up, trying to follow her while ripping my clothes off at the same time. I'm an asshole that doesn't deserve her but I'm also an asshole that can't resist her body.\n\nBy the time I get to her room she is lying on the bed, propped up on her arms, smiling at me, \"Good choice,\" her legs fall open.\n\nI want to take my time, taste her, but I am in a frenzy over the thought of losing her and I need to be inside her. I climb on top of her, neither us say anything as I enter her. She crosses her ankles over my back, gripping me to her as I make love to her, slowly. I prop myself up with an elbow next to her head and I gently grip her face with my other hand.\n\nWe kiss, it's a slow and sensual kiss, like we have all the time in the world. I feel her shiver underneath me; her pussy starts to contract around my dick, she's close.\n\nI start to move faster, my movements becoming harder, more frantic. She is staring into my eyes as she comes and it's an incredible sight. I follow seconds after, her release triggering mine.\n\nAs I pull out of her, I realize I wasn't wearing a condom, I just came inside of her, fuck.\n\n\"What's wrong?\" she puts her hand on my cheek, getting my attention.\n\n\"I wasn't wearing a condom,\" I look down at her pussy and see that my come is slowly dripping out of her, \"I came inside you.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" she looks down too, she can probably feel it sliding out of her. I go to the bathroom to get a wash cloth and I begin cleaning her up.\n\nThe thought of going bare back should freak me out, but it doesn't. Not with Eva. After disposing of the wash cloth I climb back into bed with Eva, I pull her close to me and whisper in her ear.\n\n\"I'm sorry,\" she turns her body so she is facing me, I tuck her into my side, needing to be close to her.\n\n\"It's okay,\" she whispers.\n\n\"No, it's not, I should have been more careful,\" I kiss her forehead, cursing myself and my stupidity.\n\n### ***\n\nOver the next few weeks we find a simple rhythm between us and I start to feel like a proper staff member.\n\nOn a positive note, Eva got her period this week. The negative to that, is that I'm not getting any, but that's not for lack of trying. Eva thinks it's gross I still want to have sex with her, reckons it will get too messy.\n\nI was upset until she started giving me blow jobs to make up for the lack of sex. I'm not complaining any more, her blow jobs are porn star worthy.\n\nEva is giving me more and more responsibilities around the village and it's great. Whenever we need supplies from Simunye, I either go in with Fraser or Eva to help out. If we are pressed for time, they force me to go with Fraser. Apparently, Eva and I get distracted and take too long.\n\nI have been helping Fraser out, by running the orientation for all the new volunteers and I've started conducting the weekly stock take of all our containers, making sure everything is accounted for. I then help Eva coordinate the truck deliveries that mostly contain pre-fabricated building parts, if those trucks are late, then that pushes the whole schedule back.\n\nThis place is run like a well-oiled machine, and I give Eva all the credit. That girl is incredible. She seamlessly transitions from one role to the next, she goes from helping in the kitchen, to mediator when problems arise between staff, volunteers and like, to picking up a hammer and building these houses along with everyone else.\n\nI heard her talking like an angel on the sat phone the other day to a possibly huge sponsor for the project. Then politely but sternly telling the owner of the trucking company off when he tried to increase their fee level.\n\nHer most important role as of late is keeping me happy in the bedroom, and she is keeping me very happy indeed.\n\n\"What are you smiling about?\" damn Fraser, the guy is always on my case but weirdly I really like the guy.\n\n\"Probably the same thing you're smiling about,\" my girl. Eva is the reason behind most of my smiles these days.\n\n\"Ahh, so great sex with an amazing girl?\" it's like he read my mind.\n\nBut great sex with an amazing girl? That's an understatement, there are no words in the English language to describe Eva and the way she makes me feel. It's like nothing I have ever experienced before and I don't want it to end.\n\n\"You know it,\" we fist bump before climbing up onto one of the houses to start fixing the iron down on the roof.\n\nWe get to start on the school tomorrow, I'm glad that I will be able to see some progress before I have to leave in a few weeks. Shit. Every time I think about leaving, I just want to go find Eva. I have this crazy urge to be inside of her when I think about going home.\n\nThen when I'm inside of her I have these crazy ideas about staying.\n\n# Chapter 43\n\n## Eva\n\n\"Damn it!\" I was in a hurry to open these stupid boxes and I've cut my hand with the knife I was using. Fraser always tells me I need to slow down and be more careful but like most of the time, I don't listen.\n\n\"Let me see,\" I hold up my bleeding hand for inspection, \"doesn't look too bad, let me go get the first aid kit and I will bandage it up for you.\"\n\n\"Alright, thanks Fraser,\" I take a seat on one of the other unopened boxes being careful not to get blood on anything. For a small cut, it's bleeding a bit so I make a fist to try and steam the blood flow.\n\nI have only been sitting down for a few minutes when Jason comes running over to me with a panicked look on his face. He manages to slow down when he reaches me, nearly crashing into me in a bid to get to my hand. He cradles my hand in his, not caring that he is getting covered in blood in the process.\n\n\"Are you alright? How bad is it? Let me see, are you in pain?\" Wow, he is really worried about me, his concern only adds to my pain though, considering he is only here for two more weeks. I have been trying hard not to think about it but moments like these make that hard, he is just so amazing.\n\n\"Move over, it's not that bad,\" Fraser shoves Jason roughly out of the way, rolling his eyes at how dramatic he is being. Jason looks annoyed but doesn't protest when he sees Fraser pulling out a bandage and some antiseptic.\n\n\"I don't know how to do first aid,\" I can't help but laugh at Jason's face, he looks so upset, \"It's not funny, I can't help you. When I get back to the States, I'm going to do a first aid course,\" I tense at the mention of him going home.\n\nThankfully Fraser starts explaining the steps he is taking to clean my wound and then how to wrap it up in a bandage so it won't get infected.\n\nHis explanation gives me a few moments to get my shit together, I don't need to start crying. So far, I have only cried a few times in private and have managed to hide it from Jason, the last thing I want is for him to find out I'm blubbering over the thought of him leaving me.\n\nJason is hanging on Fraser's every word and vows to help me clean my wound every day until I am healed. I don't bother to tell him that I will be fine in a few days.\n\nAfter Fraser is done, Jason and I go back to our place to clean up. I wasn't very dirty at first but Jason got covered in my blood and then had his arms around me while I was getting fixed up so now, we are both covered in my blood. It's comical that such a small cut could cover two people in so much blood, it looks like we have murdered someone.\n\nJason has a shower while I wipe off using the sink, not wanting to get my bandage wet just yet. Afterwards he forces me to lie down on the bed and take it easy for the rest of the day, you would think I nearly had my arm chopped off by the way he is acting.\n\nJason assures me that he will clean the bathroom and soak our blood-stained clothes, I expect him to go back to work after he is done but apparently, he is too worried about me to leave me alone. I want to protest but it's sweet, and I'm selfish, I want this time alone with him.\n\nJason decides we should spend the afternoon in bed and gets that damn book out again, declaring we need to finish it because he wants to know how it ends.\n\nHe props himself up against the wall and positions my head to rest in his lap, if I really was badly hurt this would be the perfect medicine.\n\nHis voice is hypnotic and I can't get enough of it. The afternoon flies by and Jason takes great joy in reading the steamy sex scenes out loud while I cringe, highly embarrassed at my choice in reading material.\n\nHe finishes the book not long before dinner, declaring the book as his favorite and asking if he can take it home with him.\n\nI agree, already with the intention of buying another copy, I think it just became my new favorite book too.\n\n# Chapter 44\n\n## Jason\n\nOne week. That's all I have left here, just one week.\n\nI want to do something nice for Eva, something special, like she did for me with that day on safari.\n\nProblem is, there isn't too much to choose from around here and it's not like I can just jump on my phone and google some romantic ideas.\n\nI find myself over at Fraser and Maria's place, I saw them take off after dinner and I hope I'm not about to interrupt anything, I need to get this done before Eva finishes with the clean-up and comes looking for me.\n\nIt's Maria that opens the door.\n\n\"Hey Jason,\" she seems surprised to see me and I don't blame her, it's not like I have ever popped around for a visit before, \"Come in.\" She steps aside to let me in, gesturing for me to have a seat at the table. I sit down and hear the shower turn off; Maria nervously walks over to the bathroom door.\n\n\"Um, Fraser? Huni, Jason is here so when you come out can you make sure you have something on?\" so that's why she's nervous. I laugh silently, shaking my head, I shouldn't be surprised he would walk around here naked.\n\nFraser exits the bathroom holding a wash cloth over his junk.\n\n\"Hey man, I'll just be a minute,\" he struts over to his room and I advert my eyes not wanting to scar my eye sockets.\n\nWhen he comes back out, he sits down across from me at the small table and pulls Maria onto lap. \"What can I do for you? Hope you aren't planning on staying long,\" he gestures at Maria and I catch his drift. Maybe we're more alike than I realized.\n\n\"Fraser, don't be rude, he's our guest,\" sometimes I forget they only started dating not long before Eva and I, they are like an old married couple.\n\n\"I'm just messing with him, he knows he's welcome anytime,\" Maria looks satisfied and turns her attention back to me, Fraser on the other hand is shaking his head, mouthing 'not welcome' while giving me a death glare.\n\n\"I'll cut right to the chase, I only have a week left here and I want to do something special for Eva, take her somewhere maybe, I don't want to copy what she did for me by taking her back to the Hlane Royal National Park but what else is there to do around here?\" Maria has tears brimming in her eyes and is holding her hands over her heart while Fraser is rolling his eyes.\n\n\"Why couldn't you have just asked us tomorrow?\" Maria turns to Fraser with a scowl.\n\n\"Fraser, don't be so mean, it's a beautiful idea and Eva will be over the moon if you plan something nice for her,\" she starts tapping her chin with her finger, clearly thinking of ideas so I just wait. Fraser however is getting agitated.\n\n\"Urgh, look, take her down to Mkhaya Game Reserve, it's a refuge for endangered species, spend the night if you want, we can do without you guys for two days,\" he looks like he is about to murder me but it's a damn good idea.\n\n\"Fraser! That's perfect! See, you can be romantic,\" Maria is obviously turned on by Fraser's romantic idea as she spins around and starts kissing him.\n\nI have to admit though, the idea really is perfect. I become slightly uncomfortable when I realize that they aren't going to stop kissing. I clear my throat but that has no affect so I excuse myself, deciding I should go and try beat Eva home.\n\nThen, I have some planning to do.\n\nAn overnight trip isn't something that I thought would be possible but the thought of taking her in a big bed has my dick straining against my shorts. I hope this place doesn't have water restrictions, I should ask when I make my booking, having sex with Eva in the shower is pretty much one of the only things we haven't done and it has been a fantasy of mine for a while now.\n\nThis trip needs to be something special.\n\nI'm not great with my words but maybe I can show her through my actions. I need her to know how important she is to me and if I play my cards right, this trip might be able to show her what I don't have the balls to tell her.\n\n# Chapter 45\n\n## Eva\n\nJason is acting strange. He keeps disappearing and normally either Fraser or Maria have vanished with him.\n\nI would be worried except the sex is still incredible, two nights ago I came home after clean up to find Jason was in the shower. I thought I would go see how his day was, as soon as he saw me, he shut the shower off and started kissing me.\n\nAfter he ripped my clothes off, he lifted me up onto the sink and went down on me, he didn't let up until I orgasmed, twice.\n\nHe didn't stop there either, just held my legs up by my knees and pounded into me, I didn't think he could get any more passionate but I was wrong.\n\nHe came all over my stomach and seeing his seed spread all over me must have flicked a switch in him, he hasn't wanted to wear a condom since.\n\nI for one, have not been complaining, especially since he is so sweet and carefully cleans me up afterwards.\n\nHe made love to me in bed this morning and that was the last time I saw him, he didn't even come back for lunch which is strange and kind of pissed me off, I was beginning to enjoy our lunchtime quickies.\n\nI am currently wandering around trying to find both Jason and Maria, it seems to be Maria's turn to disappear with Jason. Fraser was quick to try and distract me when I asked about Maria, which only made me more suspicious, what the hell are they up to?\n\nFinally, I spot them both coming out of one of the supply containers, Jason is handing Maria back the sat phone and they both seem to be extremely happy. What the hell?\n\n\"What are you guys doing?!\" I'm yelling at them before I even make it over to them. They both freeze like deer stuck in a headlight, Jason pales and Maria looks guilty. Before I make it the rest of the way to them, Maria takes off, literally running away from me.\n\n\"What are you hiding from me?\" I'm stuck between being angry and upset. Being upset is starting to win out and I can feel tears beginning to well up in my eyes.\n\n\"Eva, baby, don't cry sweetheart. It's not what you think,\" he looks at me with such tenderness, such honesty, that I want to believe him.\n\nNot for a moment would I think there is something romantic going on between Jason and Maria but something is definitely going on and I'm not normally this erratic with my emotions. I feel more and more strung out with each day that ticks by.\n\n\"Are you going to tell me?\" He places a soft kiss on my forehead.\n\n\"Tomorrow, I promise, I will tell you everything tomorrow,\" he swings his arm over my shoulder and he starts leading me towards the hall. \"Now let's go get some dinner, I'm starving and I need some energy for tonight.\"\n\n\"What's happening tonight?\" I'm genuinely puzzled, we have no activities planned with the volunteers tonight and the bonfire is tomorrow night.\n\n\"I'm going tunneling,\" he starts wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.\n\n\"Tunneling?\" _Oh_. His expression says it all, he was being dirty and it's working for me, I'm now keen to skip dinner. \"Where are you going tunneling?\"\n\n\"Where ever you let me.\"\n\nOh my.\n\n### ***\n\nI wake up super early in the morning, anxious to hear what Jason is going to tell me. Has something happened? Is he leaving early? Or is he staying a little bit longer? It annoys me that he is still asleep so I start poking at his chest.\n\nAll that does is earn me a groan so I decide to start tapping his forehead. Finally, he cracks one eye open. \"What?\" he says in a sleepy voice.\n\n\"It's tomorrow,\" I am too scared to talk in more than a whisper.\n\n\"It is tomorrow,\" his grin is contagious, so this mustn't be bad news after all. He reaches around and squeezes my butt cheek before whispering in my ear, \"Go pack an overnight bag.\" Um, what?\n\nWhat?\n\n\"Overnight? _Overnight?_ You're taking me somewhere?\" My heart starts beating rapidly.\n\n\"Yeah baby, I am. Now get this fine ass up so we can get on the road before I decide I would rather keep you here.\" I squeal with delight and jump up, quickly grabbing a backpack and shoving a few things inside.\n\n\"Done,\" even I'm impressed with how fast I am at packing. Jason doesn't seem impressed though, he is still lying in bed with his hands behind his head, staring at me.\n\n\"So, you're ready to go?\" My body begins to heat as his eyes start roaming over me.\n\n\"Yeah,\" duh, can he not see my packed bag?\n\n\"You're naked baby,\" shit. I am naked. I can't help the chuckle that escapes me, Jason gets out of bed and holds me close to him. \"Don't worry, we have time. You got up earlier than I expected so go take a shower, then we can grab some breakfast before we go.\"\n\nI am bouncing up and down in my seat like an idiot but I can't help it. I am so excited. Jason is driving and won't tell me where we are going, I don't mind though, it just adds suspense to the whole thing.\n\nThis will be the first time I have gone on an actual holiday with a boyfriend. Well, if you can call an overnight trip a holiday and Jason my boyfriend.\n\nHe introduced himself to Spencer as my boyfriend but I wasn't sure if he meant it or whether that was just for Spencer's benefit. I am too scared to clarify anything with him as it will just complicate things when it comes time for him to leave, so I have left it alone.\n\nI get a sharp pain in my chest every time I think about Jason leaving. I have been over it in my head a hundred times, even if we wanted to stay together after his three months ends, he will still need to go home. I mean he has his entire life in the States, a home, a job, friends, he can't leave all that behind on a whim.\n\nI try not to think about the fact that I barely know anything about him, it's not like I have opened up to him or anything. But I'm not going to, open up to him that is, because if he doesn't feel the same way about me then I don't want to confide in him with anything that is too personal. He has to confide in me first.\n\nJason must have sensed that my mood has changed, \"You okay? You stopped bouncing.\"\n\n\"Oh, fine. Just running out of steam I guess, we have been on the road awhile,\" which is a half-truth, we _have_ been driving a long time.\n\n\"Maria made us some sandwiches last night, they're in the back,\" I reach back and find a cooler I hadn't even seen Jason put back there.\n\nWe eat in silence and I decide I won't let my inner musings distract me from this trip.\n\nI will just let go and enjoy the time we have left.\n\nAfter another hour or so, my mouth opens in shock at what I see.\n\nOr more correctly, at where we are.\n\nI can't believe it.\n\nHe brought me to the Mkhaya Game Reserve, this place is supposed to be amazing and I am finally going to get to see a black rhino.\n\nSurprisingly, it is one of the only animals in Africa that I haven't seen yet. They always seem to hide from me.\n\nWe are led to a beautiful stone cottage surrounded by bush, there is an outdoor seating area with an old bath tub set amongst the trees and a fire underneath to heat the water.\n\nThe inside is just as beautiful, my favorite part is the big bed complete with rose petals. It is perfect. _He_ is perfect. If I didn't love him already, I think I truly do now.\n\n\"Don't get too comfy we're going out on a private safari tour soon and then a walking tour in the morning.\" He gazes down at me while I sprawl out on the big bed.\n\n\"Walking tour?\" I have never done one of those before.\n\n\"Yeah, we will get to see the rhino's up close. Kinda scary as they are still a wild animal but it should be pretty epic and if it decides to charge us, I'll just hide behind you.\"\n\n\"Funny,\" I reply sarcastically. \"So, when do we need to leave?\"\n\n\"Ten minutes,\" damn, I was hoping we could enjoy this place a bit more first.\n\n\"That should give us enough time,\" I turn to Jason and practically leap at him, the fact he planned this amazing and romantic trip turns me on, big time.\n\nI don't bother taking his shirt off, I am in too much of a hurry. I drop his pants and pull his dick into my mouth.\n\n\"Fuuucckkk! Yeah baby...that's it. Suck it,\" I don't reply, I can't, my mouth is too full, of him.\n\nAll too soon he pulls me up, turning me around and dropping my pants. Pushing me up against the edge of the nearby couch. I fall over the arm rest just as he slams into me from behind.\n\n\"Jason! Ohhhh, Jason!\" I am bucking wildly underneath him and as soon as he reaches around and flicks my clit, my orgasm bursts out of me. I am still shaking when Jason pulls out and I feel a warm liquid on my butt cheeks, it slowly starts to run down between my cheeks.\n\n\"Fuck Eva, you have no idea how sexy you are right now, I really want to stay here and take you again but I also really want to see a rhino, I'm torn,\" I turn my head so I can look at him over my shoulder.\n\n\"Rhino! Definitely rhino, besides I want you to take me in that tub later tonight,\" he chuckles, I think he likes that idea.\n\n\"The only reason I'm not offended by that statement is because you said you want me to take you in that tub later,\" he starts walking away from me. I hear him go into the bathroom but he doesn't come back out straight away.\n\n\"Jason? Are you coming back to clean me up?\" It's kind of awkward lying here like this.\n\n\"Nah! I like you like that,\" I can hear his laughter echoing around the bathroom.\n\nBastard.\n\n# Chapter 46\n\n## Jason\n\nI was more than happy with Eva's response to my surprise; I only wish I had thought of it earlier.\n\nShe is currently tucked into my side while we ride around the park in the back of an open Land Rover.\n\nThe last safari we went on was amazing but this one is incredible, we can't seem to take our hands off each other, even when one of us is taking pictures, the other one has their hand on the others arm or leg.\n\nSo far, we have seen sable antelope, livingstone eland and tsessebe, our guide tells us that they have the only population of these animals in the whole of Eswatini.\n\nHer face is breath taking when we finally come across a rhino, it's full of awe. I get a funny feeling in my chest when I look at her, I have never felt anything like it before. Nothing or no one even comes close to her.\n\nWe spend our remaining time sitting and watching the rhino's, just relaxing in each other's arms. Eva pouts when our guide tells us it's time to head back for dinner but I only have to remind her about our walking tour tomorrow and she is back to being giddy. I love Eva like this, so carefree and happy.\n\nDinner is amazing, the staff have set up a private dining area for us, full of candles and rose petals. After we have eaten, I pull Eva into my arms for a slow dance, we are barely moving and the music is only softly playing in the background. She is clinging to me and I am resting my chin on the top of her head.\n\nI notice one of the staff come into view and give me the thumbs up, that's my signal that I can take Eva back to our room.\n\n\"Let's go baby,\" she mumbles an 'alright' and stays tucked into my side on our way back.\n\nHer eyes light up when she sees a slow fire burning underneath the outdoor bath tub. She wastes no time stripping off and hopping into the water.\n\nI take my time undressing, content with watching her soak in the tub, there are a few rose petals floating on the surface and they have put something in the water that gives it a milky appearance but I still have a clear view of her naked body.\n\n\"Aren't you going to join me?\" She looks up at me biting her bottom lip.\n\n\"Of course, scoot forward and let me in,\" she complies and once I'm settled in the water, I pull her back against my chest, holding her to me as we relax in the water.\n\nWe lie like that for some time, gazing up at the stars. Her nipples are bobbing in and out of the water and they are as hard as rocks, I slide both hands up and start rubbing her nipples between my thumb and forefingers.\n\nShe is moaning softly, rubbing her naked ass along my cock. I start to kiss her neck before taking one hand and slipping it between her legs, her breath hitches before she is back to her soft, sexy little moans.\n\nI pull her body up slightly, easily slipping inside her. I'm still working her clit and she is gently rocking her body against mine. It's sensual yet erotic at the same time.\n\nWe reach our climax together, perfectly in sync with one another.\n\nWhen the fire has died out and the water is starting to cool, I carry her inside, placing her gently on the bed.\n\nAt first, I was excited about having her in a big bed but now that we are here, I miss the close confines of our single bed, forcing us into intimate positions.\n\nI lie down on top of her and she readily spreads her legs for me, granting me entrance to my happy place. Just like out in the tub, we make love slowly, staring into each other's eyes. I never thought I would enjoy this type of sex but it is just as good, if not better than the hot, quick, passionate fucks we normally have.\n\nShe finds her release first, her pussy clenching and contracting around my cock. The sensations send me over the edge and I pull out, lifting up to spill my load all over her breasts.\n\nFuck me.\n\nWhat a sight.\n\n# Chapter 47\n\n## Eva\n\nJason and I have just started our walking tour and to be honest I wish we were in a vehicle today.\n\nI love the thought of walking amongst the animals but I'm a little sore, down there.\n\nAfter making love last night, twice, Jason took full advantage of the fact that we had a hot shower, he started off washing my body but that quickly turned into fucking me against the shower wall.\n\nThen after breakfast, he said he was still hungry and lifted me up onto the outdoor table, going down on me before slamming into me roughly. I'm astounded by his stamina and to be honest, I'm a little exhausted.\n\nMy exhaustion fades away as soon as we come to a clearing and come face to face with a black rhino, well it's about a hundred and fifty feet away but it sure feels like we are closer.\n\nNot having the barrier of a vehicle or the option of a quick escape is thrilling. Jason is holding me to him and it feels right.\n\n_We_ feel right.\n\nThe scene before me is like something out of a fairy tale, the sun is still slowing rising, illuminating the sky with pinks and reds, the rhino is not paying us any attention, just happily eating away from a small acacia tree.\n\nThe best part of this whole day is Jason.\n\nEven if I didn't get to see one rhino, this trip would be worth it.\n\nThe guide gets us to stand in front of the rhino, posing for a picture, we both have big goofy smiles on our faces and Jason has his arms wrapped completely around me.\n\nWe look like a couple in love, it's a beautiful photo.\n\nUnfortunately, since we also have to drive back today our walking tour is up too soon. We are given a packed lunch for our road trip back which is sweet, although I have a feeling this was Jason's doing, he seems to have thought of everything and I can't believe he got us into a place like this at the last minute.\n\nI'm so tired that I must fall asleep on the way back, I wake up to Jason picking me up from inside the truck, I look around seeing we are back at the village.\n\n\"Shhhh, go back to sleep baby, I'll get you to bed,\" the feeling of him carrying me in his arms is hard to take in, I can feel my panties getting damp. He looks down at me in confusion, \"What?\"\n\n\"Nothing, you're just really sexy,\" his grin is stunning.\n\n\"I like that you feel that way but we really should get some sleep,\" I must be more exhausted than I thought because I'm asleep before we even get inside.\n\n### ***\n\n\"So, how was it?\" Maria is standing in front of me waving a knife around excitedly. If we weren't in the kitchen making breakfast, I would be a little scared.\n\n\"Maria,\" Fraser groans and takes the knife out of her hand, \"Leave her alone.\" He gives me a sad look; he is fully aware, just like I am, that Jason is leaving in a few days.\n\n\"It was perfect,\" I reply to Maria with a sad smile on my face. It's clear the moment she realizes the same thing we all do, the sympathy on her face is painful to look at.\n\nBefore I can get too upset a volunteer comes in asking Maria something but I tune them out, deciding to focus on the task at hand instead.\n\nFraser leans over and whispers in my ear, \"Just because he's leaving doesn't mean that what you guys have isn't real, if it's meant to be, you guys will find each other again one day,\" he's right. He is absolutely right.\n\nAlthough I can't help the tear that manages to escape and starts to run down my cheek, I discreetly rub it away, preparing myself for the day ahead.\n\nJason and I work side by side on the school for the rest of the day, we mostly work in silence, stealing glances and small touches here and there.\n\nThe school seems to be important to Jason, I have a feeling he has bonded with the kids from the village over their love of sports and I'm glad he got to work on it before he leaves.\n\nHis focus is adorable, I heard him asking Neil the other day if he thought the framing would be finished before he left, I'm hoping for his sake that it is, I have a feeling that's why he is working so hard.\n\nI even had to bribe him with a quickie so that he would take a lunch break and it was just that, a quickie. No foreplay, just a quick passionate fuck up against the kitchen bench before inhaling his sandwich and running back out the door to get to work.\n\nI need to talk to Neil and Patrick, we only have tomorrow left to get the framing finished on the school and I really, really want it to be finished in time.\n\n# Chapter 48\n\n## Jason\n\nEva was gone by the time I woke up this morning, which is odd because the sun is only just rising.\n\nI take a quick shower before going out in search of her, I'm in a bad mood since I didn't get to wake up with her beside me this morning.\n\nAs I walk out the door, the sight before me takes my breath away.\n\nEvery single person, staff member, volunteer and village helper are working on the school, the school consists of two separate buildings, the framing is nearly complete on one but the other is only half way there. I'm too busy staring in awe at the hive of activity to notice Eva has come up to me and is standing on the step below me.\n\n\"I wanted to surprise you, I know the school is important to you and I wanted at least the framing to be finished before you leave to-\" she can't finish that sentence and I don't want her to.\n\nI pull her back inside the house before slamming the door shut and locking it, my clothes come off in record time, I stalk towards Eva with a predatory look in my eyes.\n\nShe doesn't protest as I strip her of her clothes and place her on the small table, she leans back against the wall and I position a chair directly in front of her before taking a seat. I spread her legs wide with my hands.\n\n\"You're perfect, you know that, right?\" I don't give her a chance to respond before my tongue is on her, devouring her pussy, I bring my thumb up to circle her clit as I pump my tongue in and out of her. I angle my head so that I can watch her, she has her nipples between her fingers and her mouth open in a silent scream, she's beautiful, intoxicating.\n\nThe sight turns me on and my cock is begging to be inside her but not before she comes.\n\nNever before she comes.\n\nBefore long she is writhing beneath me, screaming out my name and fisting my hair in her hands, tugging on it roughly. I don't let up until her orgasm hits my face and I start lapping up her juices, her body is still twitching underneath me.\n\nI stand and enter her slowly, her arms and legs automatically come around me, holding me to her. She kisses me roughly, tasting herself on my tongue.\n\nI pick her up, pounding into her roughly, I think for a second I might be being too rough but her moans get louder and louder.\n\n\"Harder Jason, fuck me harder!\" You don't have to tell me twice. Our bodies are slapping together loudly, echoing in the small space, her second orgasm washes over her within moments.\n\nI love watching her come, it's one of my favorite things in the world. I pull out of her and put her back down on the table so I can come all over her.\n\n\"Fuuucckkkk!\" My trail of come starts at her pussy and leads all the way up to between her breasts, the sight makes me want to take her again.\n\nI kiss her tenderly before cleaning her up and getting dressed.\n\nWe get some strange looks when we exit our house but I don't give a fuck, my girl did something nice for me and I wanted to give her, her reward.\n\nBy lunchtime we have made so much progress that we only have to fit the roof and we are done.\n\nEveryone decides to have an hour-long break and go sit in the shade for a while to eat. The sun is harsh and makes working in the heat pretty difficult. We always seem to be covered in sweat but I don't mind, I like the smell of Eva's sweat and I don't care if that comes across as creepy, it's the truth.\n\nWe spend pretty much the whole hour in bed making love to each other, the fact that Eva's stomach growled at us, loudly, is the only reason we are up and eating at the small table.\n\nI have fond memories of this table, of this whole house really.\n\nWho would have thought I would enjoy living somewhere so small, I have a feeling that it's mostly due to the girl sitting across from me, devouring her two sandwiches like she hasn't eaten in a week.\n\n\"You hungry baby?\" She pauses mid chew, her bite so big that most of it is sticking out the side of her cheek. Her cheeks flush like she is embarrassed and she tries to speak but instead of words little crumbs fly out of her mouth.\n\nWe both start laughing, big belly laughs and Eva is caught being laughing and choking on her huge mouthful. Eventually, she gets herself under control enough to swallow.\n\n\"Sorry, that wasn't very attractive,\" she is looking down at her sandwich, finally deciding to take a much smaller bite.\n\n\"I dunno, I think everything you do is pretty attractive,\" she stays quiet but has a pleased smile on her face. After we finish eating, we walk back to the school hand in hand. \"Thanks for today Eva, it really means a lot to me...you, mean a lot to me.\"\n\n\"You mean a lot to me too Jason,\" we share a small kiss before jumping straight back into an afternoon of hard work.\n\nJason.\n\nNot Mason.\n\nShe is never going to forgive me if I tell her the truth.\n\nNot now, anyway and I don't want to ruin our last night together.\n\n# Chapter 49\n\n## Eva\n\nThe framework for the two school buildings is complete by late afternoon and I can tell that Jason appreciates being able to see it before he leaves tomorrow.\n\nEveryone celebrates our achievement and slowly leaves to get ready for tonight, we are having a special dinner to thank Jason for his time here.\n\nAfter almost everyone is gone, Jason asks Fraser to take a photo of the two of us together in front of the school buildings.\n\nFraser takes a few us of with Jason standing behind me, his arms are wrapped around me resting on my stomach. Jason starts to kiss my cheek so I turn slightly to face him so he can reach my lips. After Fraser hands Jason his phone back, I realize that he was still taking pictures of us while were we kissing.\n\nThe photos are beautiful and I would love for him to send me a copy but I am too scared to ask him.\n\nThe fact that Jason hasn't given me his phone number speaks volumes, I know I have his contact details in a file somewhere but it would be nice of him to say, here's my number, I would love to hear from you. Or what's your number, I would like to send you some of these photos.\n\nIt just cements the fact that this was only ever supposed to be temporary, he never intended for this to become anything more than it was. A casual fling.\n\nThe reminder hurts but I knew this day was coming, I realized that I would be left heart broken in the end but it hurts a lot more than I expected.\n\nI manage to keep it together through dinner and we end up staying longer than I wanted but everyone wants to say their goodbyes to Jason. He will be leaving in the morning and I don't intend to let him out of bed until the last minute.\n\nI'm even contemplating not going to the airport. We haven't talked about it at all but I think we have both been avoiding that conversation.\n\nBy the time we make it back to our room we are both exhausted, if it was any other night, I wouldn't mind simply going to sleep but tonight, tonight I want my fill of Jason. I expect him to be frantic with his actions but he surprises me, he undresses both me and himself, kissing my lips and parts of my body the entire time.\n\nHe lies me down on the bed underneath him, kissing me slowly, like he has all the time in the world. His lower half grinds into me, working me into a frenzy but still, he takes his time, like he is savoring me.\n\nHe enters me slowly, never releasing my lips, working his hands up and down my sides.\n\nI cherish his weight on me, every inch of our bodies are touching and it's perfect, he is perfect.\n\nHe pulls back slightly so he can look at my face and I am stunned by the emotions I see in his eyes, full of both love and pain which I imagine is a mirror image of my own eyes.\n\nIt must get to much for Jason as he buries his face in my shoulder and starts thrusting harder, faster. I wrap my legs around him, unwilling to let him get any further away from me, I am so close to saying I love you when I climax but I manage to hold those words inside. Not willing to let them escape when they wouldn't be returned.\n\nJason pulls out and empties his release onto my stomach, leaning back on his heels afterwards and taking a few moments to let his eyes wander over my body, I do the same. Knowing that this will be our last night together and wanting to memorize every inch of him. Every perfect inch.\n\nJason leaves to get a wash cloth to clean me up and I am close to losing it, when he comes back in the room, a few tears have escaped and are running down my cheeks.\n\nHe either doesn't notice or chooses to ignore my pain, when Jason is done wiping me down, he slides in behind me, pulling me to him with a grip that is almost crushing.\n\nA small sob escapes me before I can help it but that only makes Jason's grip stronger.\n\n\"I want you to know that you mean everything to me. I will never forget you Eva, ever.\" His words should bring me comfort but they don't, they are a final goodbye.\n\nI will never forget you.\n\nNot, we can make this work.\n\nNot, let's keep in contact and see what happens.\n\nSimply, five little words that tear my heart to shreds.\n\nI had some stupid fantasy in my head that he wouldn't be able to say goodbye to me, that he would choose not to leave me.\n\nBut life isn't a romance novel, not everyone gets a happy ending and certainly not me.\n\nAnd why should I? I'm just the girl who should have died that night alongside her parents, instead I'm here and my heart is breaking all over again.\n\n# Chapter 50\n\n## Jason\n\nI wake up in a cold sweat.\n\nFuck. I have to leave today.\n\nI ease my way out from under a naked Eva, it's one of the hardest things I've ever had to do and I'm freaking out.\n\nI think I'm having a panic attack.\n\nSeriously, I can't fucking breathe.\n\nI go to the bathroom to calm down and end up taking a shower. When I open the bathroom door, I'm met with a very sleepy and very naked Eva. Fuck, \"I woke up and you weren't there.\"\n\n\"Sorry, baby, I couldn't sleep,\" I drop my towel and take only a few steps before I reach her. The sight of her makes my chest hurt.\n\nHow did three months go by so quickly?\n\nI pick her up and we fall back against the wall, she automatically wraps her legs around me and I slam into her. Desperate to be inside her. Wishing this didn't have to be the last time.\n\nI pound in and out of her like a madman. I bury my face in her neck, not able to look her in the eyes, afraid if I do, I will break down.\n\nShe is clinging to head, moaning into my ear.\n\nAll too soon, we reach our climax, together. I still inside of her, not wanting to move.\n\nWe stand like that for a few minutes before Eva starts to wriggle.\n\nI reluctantly put her down and look into her eyes. What I see shocks me, I expect to see warmth and sadness but instead I see coldness. \"I have to shower before I take you to the airport,\" with that, she walks past me and shuts the bathroom door, loudly.\n\nI flinch, it's like she's shutting the door on our relationship. A relationship I'm not so sure I want to finish.\n\nI thought Eva felt the same, but maybe I was wrong. I walk into my room and slowly pack up my belongings, I was hoping Eva would be out of the bathroom by now so we could talk. I need to talk to her about how I'm feeling. That I kind of want to stay. With her.\n\nAfter the last of my belongings are packed away, I sit on my bed and wait. I hear Eva exit the bathroom but she goes straight to her room and shuts the door, so I continue to wait. When she finally makes her way to my room she just looks pissed off.\n\n\"What are you doing? We need to leave for the airport in an hour and we still haven't had breakfast yet,\" she is standing there with her hands on her hips, glaring at me.\n\n\"Eva, can we talk?\" my voice is close to breaking, I don't want this to be the end.\n\n\"No, Jason. I-\" I don't let her finish, we need to talk. Now.\n\n\"Please?\" I'm pleading with her and I don't care if it makes me look pathetic. I think I could be in love with this girl.\n\n\"No! We fucked for a couple of months, it was great and now it's over. We both knew this was how this was going to end,\" her anger starts to fade as tears well in her eyes but as soon as they were there, they're gone.\n\n\"Get a move on,\" she snaps at me before leaving the house all together. I should follow her; I should get breakfast and say my goodbyes but I can't face everyone.\n\nI can't face Eva looking at me like she hates me.\n\nShe doesn't even know the truth yet, how can I tell her now? When she is already so mad at me? Why is she even mad? I want to stay, with her, doesn't she realize that?\n\nAn hour later, Fraser pokes his head into my room, \"You ready to go?\"\n\n\"She hates me, doesn't she,\" Fraser takes a deep breath before sitting on the bed next to me.\n\n\"She doesn't hate you. Far from it. She's just hurt so she's lashing out,\" I almost believe him, but he won't meet my eyes.\n\nI stand, grab my belongings and head out the door. I feel numb saying my goodbyes to everyone, I barely remember everything that happened between walking from the house to the van.\n\nEva is sitting in the passenger seat up front. Everyone else is piling into the back. Fraser jumps in the driver's seat. \"Hop in man,\" I would but I want to sit next to Eva and she is sitting against the passenger side door.\n\n\"Eva?\" I ask tentatively, \"Can I sit next to you?\" she ignores me.\n\nShe won't face me.\n\nShe won't even look at me.\n\nI feel as though someone has ripped my heart out of my chest. I don't remember sitting in the back but I must of because before I know it, we are pulling up outside the airport.\n\nEva is saying goodbye to the other volunteers and Fraser is helping everyone with their bags. I make my way over to Eva; she is wearing dark sunglasses and she still won't acknowledge me.\n\n\"Eva, baby, please?\" I remove her sunglasses and find her eyes are full of tears. It looks like she has been crying all morning.\n\nI gently kiss her lips, when she doesn't respond, I kiss her eyelids, her forehead, her cheeks, everywhere until she finally opens her lips for me.\n\nThe kiss is slow and sensual.\n\nI find my own eyes are filling with tears.\n\nEva pulls back first, she looks more upset than before, that wasn't my intention. \"Eva, baby. What if I stayed? What if I di-\"\n\n\"Don't,\" the hard tone of her voice gives me pause.\n\n\"Eva, wh-\" that's not the reaction I was expecting and she cuts me off before I have a chance to tell her I want to give up everything for her.\n\nThat I want to be with her.\n\nFor good.\n\n\"No!\" She hiccups and has tears streaming down her face, \"Don't you dare say that to me. You and I both know you are getting on that plane and never coming back. You will go back home, back to your life and forget all about me. I will be the story you tell your children about. The one that got away. Well, that's bullshit. We were fuck buddies. That's all we ever were,\" it's like she punched me straight in the gut.\n\nIt hurts so much.\n\nI don't hold back, I let the tears fall.\n\n\"We were never just fuck buddies and you know it,\" I growl. How dare she downgrade what we have.\n\n\"Whatever, it's over now. Move on. I will be,\" then she turns and walks away.\n\nWatching her walk away is the hardest thing I have ever had to do, but deep down I know it's the right thing for her. I have no doubt she will move on; she will move on and find someone better, not someone who has lied to her the entire time she has known them.\n\nI have never known such pain.\n\nI didn't know my heart could hurt this badly. I can't breathe. I can't speak.\n\nI flinch when I feel a hand on my shoulder.\n\n\"It's time to go, I'm sorry buddy,\" it's Fraser. He looks upset as well.\n\nNot sure what he has to be upset about. He gets to go home and lie next to his girlfriend tonight, make love to her, hold her.\n\nHe doesn't have to say goodbye.\n\nHe gives me a hug, patting me on the back before stepping away. Turning and walking over to the arrivals gate, to greet the new lot of volunteers. I feel like I have stepped outside of my body, watching myself go through security, waiting at the terminal and then hopping on the plane.\n\nAnd the next two flights after that.\n\nI feel numb.\n\nWhen I finally collapse on my king size bed in Seattle, I fall asleep, dreaming of a single bed in Africa and the most beautiful girl I have ever laid eyes on.\n\n# Chapter 51\n\n## Eva\n\n' _Whatever, it's over now. Move on. I will be.'_ I can't believe that is the last thing I ever said to Jason.\n\nI was such a bitch. But I couldn't help it.\n\nThis morning I had been hanging on by a thread. After Jason made love to me against the wall, I tried to turn my emotions off, tried to not let him see how much his leaving was affecting me.\n\nI ended up breaking down in the bathroom. After that I tried to avoid him until it was time to leave, I shouldn't have bothered, he didn't come out of his room until everyone was ready to go.\n\nWhen he asked if he could sit next to me in the van, I couldn't speak, I couldn't even look at him.\n\nI had tears streaming down my face and had to resist the urge to curl up into a ball. I felt like an idiot. I knew this day was coming. I had tried to prepare myself for it but I didn't realize just how far I had fallen for Jason.\n\nFraser held my hand on the way to the airport. He also patted my head on the return trip, I was curled up in a tight ball on the front seat, crying my eyes out. Replaying our last moments in my head over and over again.\n\nWhen he mentioned he could stay, I lost it, I got so mad.\n\nWhat would another week or another two weeks do? We would just be in the same position again but it would be even harder. I would have fallen even more in love with him.\n\nIn love with him.\n\nFuck.\n\nWho am I kidding? I have been in love with him for a long time.\n\nI am in love with a man who walked away, not even saying 'call me' or 'I'll be in touch'.\n\nI am so deeply in love with Jason that I can't see straight.\n\nMove on.\n\nI told him to move on, that I would be but that was a load of shit.\n\nI will never move on.\n\nHe has taken my heart with him to Seattle and I will never be getting it back.\n\nFraser had to carry me to my room when we got back. It's where I am right now, in the bed that Jason and I made love in, where we slept together every night, I can still smell him on my sheets.\n\nI bury my face in my pillow, trying to absorb his smell, commit it to memory.\n\nI eventually fall into a fitful sleep, filled with dreams of a man with beautiful hazel eyes.\n\nOnce again regretting my harsh, final words to the man that holds my heart and will continue to hold my heart, forever.\n\n# Chapter 52\n\n## Mason\n\nWhat have I done?\n\nI left the woman I love in Africa a few days ago and now I am engaged to someone else.\n\nThat's right, engaged.\n\nI'm fucking _engaged_.\n\nWhat. The. Actual. Fuck!\n\nI'm engaged.\n\nTo a woman I hate.\n\nBecause my father forced my hand.\n\nBecause I was too chicken shit to go after what I really wanted.\n\nToo afraid of rejection from the one person who actually means something to me. But it's too late now. I fucked up and I can't undo it.\n\nWhat is wrong with me?\n\nWhat have I done?\n\nThere is only one more thought that runs through my head before I close my eyes and pray for sleep to take me quickly.\n\nEva.\n\n# Chapter 53\n\n## Eva\n\nSix weeks later...\n\nI put down my hammer and smile, in the six weeks it's been since Jason left, I have kept extra busy.\n\nI was in desperate need of a distraction, finding that good hard physical labor did the trick, being so exhausted when I went back to my room that I was asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.\n\nIn a little over two months this project will be finished and then it will be on to the next.\n\nI have some time in between projects and I tend to catch myself thinking that maybe I should go back home for a visit. It's been so long since I have been back, I know my uncle would love to see me, Jayden too.\n\nThen my thoughts start drifting to Jason and I wonder if he would mind if I looked him up while I was there.\n\nNo.\n\nStop it.\n\nI knew what I was getting myself into and when he left, he didn't offer me his number and I didn't give him mine. We both knew that was it. That it was goodbye, for good.\n\nI make my way back to my room to quickly clean up before going over to the hall for dinner. I start grabbing clothes from my drawers for a quick shower when something catches my eye.\n\nIt's my tampon box.\n\nHmmm, I haven't use those in a while. That's strange.\n\nI quickly do the math in my head. It's been two months. I skipped a whole period? But that means.\n\nNo.\n\nNo!\n\nI can't be pregnant.\n\nCan I?\nThank you very much for reading\n\nSecrets and Deception\n\nEva and Mason's story continues in\n\nForgiveness and Atonement\n\nBook Two in the For Keeps Series\n", "meta": {"pile_set_name": "BookCorpus2"}}
{"text": " \nquarter life crisis\n\nor\n\nhow to get over college and become a functioning member of society\n\nby\n\npatrick anderson jr.\n\nThis is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.\n\nSmashwords Edition, License Notes\n\nThis ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.\n\nCopyright 2014 Patrick Anderson Jr.\n\nCover design by Patrick Anderson Jr.\n\nThis book is also available in print.\n\nPatrickAndersonJr.com\n\nGetOverCollege.com\n\ntable of contents\n\ndedication\n\nprologue\n\nstep one: admission\n\nstep two: confrontation\n\nstep three: support\n\nstep four: modification\n\nstep five: reassessment\n\nstep six: restructuring\n\nstep seven: release\n\nstep eight: self-assurance\n\nstep nine: survey\n\nstep ten: live\n\nacknowledgments\n\nabout the author\n\nother works by patrick\n\nmore info\n\n-dedication-\n\nTo all the loved ones in my past who won't be a part of my future: Roland Johnson (Grandpa), Julia Johnson (Grandma), Osborn Elliot (Uncle Osborn), Karen Urbina, and Justin Morejon. Rest in Peace.\n\nAlso to my parents.\n\nThanks for teaching me stuff.\n\nquarter life crisis\n\n-prologue-\n\nDerek opens Sean's bedroom door and walks into a stench he can only describe as a mixture of weed, feet, and burnt toast. A look around the room reveals concentrated chaos: empty pizza box next to the bed, a pile of dirty clothes in the corner that is one sock away from tumbling to the carpet, dresser drawers open with clothes draped over them like hanging limbs, and a large crumpled bag of Cheetos lying next to an open shoebox holding a brand new pair of Jordan's that are by far the cleanest thing in here.\n\nDerek studies it all with thinly disguised revulsion. He doesn't want to be in Sean's room, but Sean's sitting in his underwear—as usual—with his feet propped up on an open 24-pack of Bud Light while he plays _Guitar Hero 2_ on his Xbox 360, and he's staring right at Derek with a lazy grin on his face. He motions Derek over, holding out a second fake-guitar video game controller, and Derek sighs, trudging to his roommate's side.\n\n\"This is what you called me in here for?\" Derek asks. \"I'm supposed to be studying.\"\n\n\"You're always studying,\" Sean says, his voice slurring as he puts a beer can to his lips and tips it back.\n\n\"It's called law school,\" Derek says. \"That's what people do in law school.\" He pauses and Sean keeps staring at the TV. \"They study,\" Derek adds.\n\n\"Found this shit behind my bookcase earlier,\" Sean says. \"Haven't played in forever.\"\n\n\"That's nice,\" Derek says. \"I really should be _studying_ , Sean.\"\n\n\"Come on,\" Sean says. \"Give you one practice round, then we'll do 'Free Bird'.\"\n\nDerek groans and turns to walk away, inadvertently glancing at the TV, at the video game menu which—he hates to admit—brings up a sudden nostalgic sentiment in him that he finds hard to ignore. He pauses, ponders it for a moment, then sighs.\n\n\"One round,\" Derek says.\n\n\"One _practice_ round,\" Sean repeats, burping. \"Then 'Free Bird'.\"\n\nDerek reluctantly picks up the controller, scrolling through the song list and settling on _Avenged Sevenfold_ 's \"Beast and the Harlot,\" which he then proceeds to completely destroy on Expert level. His fingers glide over the guitar buttons, a blur of movement that leaves his fingers cramped as music notes fly across the digital fret board.\n\nDerek's tongue hangs out of his mouth while he does it, like he thinks he's the Cuban version of Michael Jordan or some shit. Sean watches him, studying his roommate's dark features: heavy eyebrows and beard, which combine with the fedora, board shorts, and v-neck sweater he's wearing to make him look like—an asshole. No other way to say it. It's like eighty degrees in here and Derek's walking around like some screwed-up genetic experiment between an ivy leaguer, a surfer, and Fidel Castro.\n\nThe screen flashes with a \"You Rock\" congratulations and Derek lowers the guitar, unable to hide the smirk on his face when he glances at Sean.\n\n\"Guess I kinda still remember how to play,\" Derek says.\n\n\"Screw you,\" Sean says.\n\n\"You asked.\"\n\n\"You cheated.\"\n\n\"I haven't even played the thing since undergrad,\" Derek says, sitting next to Sean on the bed. He sniffs the air and pokes a dirty sock with his toe, wrinkling his nose. \"It smells like ass in here.\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" Sean says. \"But you play your guitar like every day.\"\n\n\"It's a bass, first of all,\" Derek says quickly, turning and pointing at Sean then lowering his hand and scowling. \"And how many times do I have to tell you playing a real guitar and playing _Guitar Hero_ are two different things?\"\n\n\"How many times do I have to tell you being a douche and being a douche who can play a guitar are the same thing?\" Sean says, distorting his voice to sound like a little kid, his words still slurring to create an effect that Derek can't help laughing at.\n\n\"Just pick up the controller, asshole,\" Derek says.\n\n\"Beer first,\" he says, chugging the rest of the can. Derek stares at him while he does, a grim look settling on his face.\n\n\"You look like shit, Sean,\" he says.\n\n\"Thanks,\" Sean says, crushing and dropping the can in a small pile of them next to his right leg.\n\n\"I'm serious,\" he says. \"I'm worried about you.\" Derek pauses, searching. \"Kristina is too.\"\n\n\"Really?\" Sean says sarcastically, slowly turning to face his roommate. \"Kristina?\"\n\nDerek scratches his chin, avoiding Sean's eyes because he knows what everybody else does: that Kristina is most definitely _not_ worried about Sean. Kristina is Derek's girlfriend, which would make her Sean's ally if it wasn't for the fact that Kristina's best friend—Maria—just so happens to be Sean's ex-fiancée, and Kristina was all \"good for you\" and \"you're doing the right thing\" and \"he's a goddamn bum\" when Maria left him.\n\n\" _I'm_ worried, at least,\" Derek says, then points at Sean's bare chest and skinny legs. \"Can you put some clothes on?\"\n\n\"I am wearing clothes,\" Sean says, snapping the elastic waistband of his boxers with his thumb.\n\n\"Really?\" Derek says.\n\n\"And I'm comfortable,\" Sean grumbles, shrugging. \"And it's my apartment.\"\n\n\"It's mine too,\" Derek says.\n\n\"I was here first,\" Sean says. \"And you don't see me yelling at you about walking around in your underwear.\"\n\n\"Because I don't.\"\n\n\"Quit changing the subject,\" Sean snaps. \"Take your ass whooping like a man.\"\n\nDerek opens his mouth to tell Sean to quit the shit and talk to him, but Sean's already selected the _Lynrd Skynrd_ classic so Derek picks up his faux-guitar and for damn near seven minutes there's nothing but lyrical riffs blasting from the television, the rhythmic tapping of the guys' fingers on the controllers, the occasional grunt as one of them switches chords rapidly.\n\nThey're neck to neck in points most of the way, the color coded notes flying across the screen way too fast to even notice what the other person is doing. Midway through, the two of them stand up, the intensity rising to a level not conducive to sitting. Then they get to the final riff—a finger mashing combo that uses every single button on the controller in quick succession—and Sean murders it. Absolutely _kills_ , perfect score.\n\nThe game lets out a tremble of bass—the words \"You Rock\" popping up on Sean's side of the screen—and he lets out a whoop.\n\n\"In your _face_ ,\" he says, making a masturbatory motion near Derek's head. Derek backs up, looking disgusted and sucking his teeth in mock anger before tossing the guitar controller on the ground.\n\nWhich, apparently, is the wrong thing to do.\n\n\"What the _fuck_?!\" Sean yells, spinning on his roommate. \"What the hell do you think you're doing?\"\n\nDerek turns his head up slowly toward Sean with a smile that disappears when he sees Sean's face, nostrils flared and lips curled into a snarl. Derek glances at the guitar, then back up at Sean.\n\n\"What?\" he asks.\n\n\"Don't throw my guitar!\" Sean says, taking a step toward Derek. \"You know how much those goddamn things cost?!\"\n\n\"Sean,\" Derek says quietly, chuckling. \"Calm down.\"\n\n\"Don't tell me to calm down!\" Sean yells. \"Respect my property!\" And before Derek can respond, Sean's flying across the room at him with his hands raised. Derek, however, is actually in shape—we're talking Krav-Maga-classes-four-days-a-week type of shape—as opposed to Sean, who's been on an alternating-between-drunk-and-high binge for a year now (pretty much since the day Maria left him—on his birthday, mind you—which was also about six days before the third member of their former trio—Leon—smashed through the front windshield of his car. Talk about a bad week? It's the only reason Derek doesn't plant his fist in Sean's face and shove his nose into the back of his fucking head).\n\nSean's almost on top of him when Derek does this twisting thing where he moves to the side quick as hell and suddenly Sean's behind him and Derek's got his hand on the back of Sean's head, using his momentum to push him into the wall next to the closet. Sean's face slams into the plaster and he feels his teeth sink into his lip. There's a bang from upstairs, someone stomping on the floor above with a muffled shout. Sean lets out a yelp, rolling onto his back and putting a hand to his mouth, tasting blood.\n\n\"What the hell is your problem, Sean?\" Derek yells.\n\nDerek's expression is the definition of rage—his ears turning an even deeper shade of tan than they already are—as Sean turns to face him, pulling his hand away from his mouth with spots of red on his fingers. His shoulders drop and he looks up at Derek like a wounded dog. Derek's too pissed to give a shit though.\n\n\"It's a video game,\" Derek says. \"A goddamn video game.\"\n\nSean stands slowly, his fingers still on his lip. When he's on his feet he wobbles for a moment, his head hanging as he looks at Derek from the corner of his eye and walks past him, Derek still tense, ready for another attack. Sean plops down on the bed, glancing at the pulsing letters on the TV telling him \"You Rock.\"\n\nBoth of them breathing heavily, the smell of Sean's existence seems to deepen around Derek. He surveys the room again, takes in the condition again, then goes back to glaring at Sean.\n\n\"Sorry,\" Sean says, quietly, so quietly the word doesn't register in Derek's brain until a few seconds after Sean speaks.\n\nDerek doesn't say anything at first, standing there with his fists clenched, wishing like _hell_ that he'd just stayed in his room and ignored Sean when he started bellowing Derek's name through the damn apartment twenty minutes ago.\n\n\"Seriously, man,\" Sean says, finally meeting Derek's eyes. \"I don't know. I'm sorry. I've just been—you know.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I know,\" Derek spits. \"You've just _been_.\"\n\nSean continues to slouch there like a reprimanded child so Derek sits down slowly, looking again at his roommate's bare legs. \"Sean, you're driving yourself crazy in here.\"\n\nSean immediately tenses up, the tendons in his neck standing out. The bleeding in his mouth's slowed and he uses his tongue to poke at the two shallow cuts his front teeth made on the inside of his top lip.\n\n\"What are you talking about?\" he asks.\n\n\"This shit isn't healthy.\"\n\nSean looks around the room, his face registering some sort of recognition before he waves it off.\n\n\"Whatever,\" Sean says, turning away and scratching his ass. \"Just a little stressed. I'm fine.\"\n\nDerek opens his mouth to say something then closes it, choosing instead to stand again and head to the door. He pauses in the opening, looking back.\n\n\"Put on some clothes, Sean,\" Derek says. \"And get yourself together. You can't live like this forever.\"\n\nSean opens his mouth and Derek waits for him to say something slick, but Sean seems to think better of it and forces his mouth closed instead. Derek takes one last look around the room, pausing for a good couple of seconds to study the frame hanging crookedly on the wall above his roommate's bed—Sean's Psychology degree from Florida State, their alma mater—before turning and slamming the door closed, leaving Sean staring at the outdated Hooters calendar hanging from a nail on the back.\n\nAfter a moment, Sean reaches over and turns the Xbox 360 off, putting the channel back on TNT in the hopes of returning to his original plan for the night: to watch the Heat game and get shitfaced. But the Heat game's been over, so he catches the final seconds of the Spurs/Lakers game then switches to Sportscenter to watch highlights. When he looks down at the carpet an hour later, the 24-pack of Bud Light's got two left in it, cans tossed around the room like expended bullet cartridges. Sean blinks a few times and feels that familiar haze, like everything around him is a couple of seconds away from becoming reality. So he sighs, reaches down, and grabs another.\n\nhow to get over college and become a functioning member of society\n\nstep one: admission\n\n-1-\n\nLauren didn't realize Rick's ass had gotten so hairy. Flabby too. Not totally unattractive, but definitely on a downward spiral, especially considering the man's only twenty-three years old and he used to have an ass she could hold on to for dear life. Something she used to admire when he was on his way out of the shower, or those times he'd head to the bathroom after sex to go pee or wipe himself off or whatever it is Rick does in the bathroom post-coitus.\n\nThis is the first time she's noticed the deterioration though. The thought disconcerts her a little, she admits. Not so much the fact that his ass is in this condition, but that it took this particular situation for her to notice it. It's not like this is an overnight development; Rick's ass quality has to have been falling off for a while, yet she can barely remember the last time she _really_ paid attention to it. It makes her wonder—for just a second—if this is her fault.\n\nAdmittedly though, Lauren hasn't really had any recent or particular reason to pay close attention to Rick's private parts. Honestly, who really studies their spouse's ass on a daily basis? Unless it's the increasingly rare occasion where they're in the bathroom naked together, she still wouldn't be _staring_ at it, and definitely wouldn't be seeing it in this current light: as the cheeks clench and unclench with each thrust while Rick plows into another woman's vagina. Ideally, Lauren would be that woman, and therefore couldn't possibly have the viewpoint she has right now, peeking around the corner of Justin's—their two year old son's—bedroom door and watching Rick grab a handful of Natalie's—their barely-turned-eighteen-years-old babysitter's—hair and pull her head back, thrusting deeper. Natalie lets out a scream/moan and Lauren flinches.\n\nYet even in this moment, the only thing Lauren's really trying to figure out is why Rick's home in the first place. He should be at work right now. And Natalie? Justin's at day care until 5:00, so she has no reason to be here either. Unless you count what they're doing right now. Which is a pretty legit reason when Lauren thinks about it.\n\nShe wonders for a second if Natalie is skipping a class. Composition I, or College Algebra, or Intro to Psychology or some other shitty freshman course. Skipping out on a day of education to come here—to Lauren's apartment—and fuck her husband.\n\nRick lets go of Natalie's hair and bends further over her, so his chest is touching her shoulders, his grunts accentuated by her impassioned whispers and moans, which seems to be creating a kind of sound-cocoon for them. Natalie throws her long, dirty blonde hair around and arches her back, raising her ass to receive Rick, digging her nails into the carpet. Her thigh muscles taut, dimples above her butt glistening with sweat, she whimpers as Rick crouches over and buries his face in her neck.\n\nIt's almost professional how they're doing it, and it's then Lauren realizes this definitely isn't the first time they've had sex. They're too in tune to each other's movements. The way Lauren and Rick _used_ to be. Also, neither one of them have noticed Lauren's here. It's like they're in another world.\n\nLauren considers saying something, but her mouth is stuck in a thin line on her face which she keeps trying to shift into a grimace or a frown or a sardonic smile or _anything_ capable of emitting sounds, but it won't budge. It's like she's stuck in viewer mode, and she really can't help feeling like she's seen all this before. Not Rick, not this situation in particular, but some version of it, somewhere else. It's almost like she's stuck in a Garry Marshall movie, and any minute now Garry's going to step out of the bathroom to her left and yell \"Cut!\" Julia Roberts will be standing next to him, pleasantly annoyed and ready to give Lauren pointers. Garry will tell her to take her place in the bedroom, then roll his eyes and move her to the spot himself then hand her a copy of the script when it becomes obvious that she has absolutely no idea what her lines are.\n\nNeedless to say, she's flustered by all the options she has. She could take the _What the fuck is going on in here?!_ approach and watch Rick's acid reflux flare up so suddenly he'd probably vomit right in Natalie's hair.\n\nOr she could go with the more passive approach, the throat clearing and solemn stare at them as they both scramble to put their clothes on inside out.\n\nShe could even let them finish—watch until Rick's face clenches up, his eyes roll into the back of his head, and he does that little convulsive head nod that is characteristic of Rick's orgasms. She could wait until that precise moment to step into the room, pat him on the back, and say something slick, like _Nice job, Tiger_.\n\nLet's be real though: Lauren's a smart chick. On some level she knows she's in shock right now. She hasn't actually moved much more than her eyes in the past thirty seconds. Not since she heard a moan, peeked around the corner and saw her husband bent over the girl who's been caring for their son every other Friday and Saturday night for almost six months now.\n\nRick and Lauren met Natalie at the same time, at their apartment complex's swimming pool one Saturday back in April when they went down with Justin to spend the afternoon sunning and barbecuing. That day they'd struck up a conversation with her while she was sitting at the picnic tables with her mother and her friend, the two of them weeks away from graduating. Natalie's mother had seemed nice, and Natalie had seemed so trustworthy then, and _young_ —though, now that Lauren thinks about it, she's only, what? Five years younger than her and Rick? So funny how perceptions of time can fluctuate.\n\nIt seemed like an easy choice back then, and Justin had taken an instant liking to Natalie that day. And hell, Natalie and her mom lived one building over, which made her easily accessible. Obviously too accessible.\n\nLauren's options right now all seem out of reach though. The outcome of each course of confrontation will be inevitably dramatic, too much for her to deal with in conjunction with the situation itself. She hates drama (not just the way most women she knows _say_ they hate drama but actually relish it, depend on it, _thrive_ on it; no, Lauren legit hates that shit).\n\nShe doesn't want to deal with this right now. Part of her just wants to forget it all, come home later tonight and make dinner, eat with Rick and Justin like they normally do.\n\nBut she knows she can't.\n\nThis isn't going away, and there is no backtracking on something that's already taken place.\n\nNo matter what she does right now, Rick will still be fucking their babysitter.\n\nSo she watches them for a moment longer, watches as Rick wraps an arm around Natalie's waist, flips her over and starts to drive his pelvis into hers, her entire body shifting across the carpet as she wraps her arms around his neck, and Lauren tries to think of reasons why this isn't the end of the world. Then Rick's groans get louder and his toes start to clench and he starts thrusting harder, and it's all a little too much for her to handle.\n\nLauren turns and heads quietly through the living room, past the large leather couch and the IKEA coffee table towards the front door, picking her purse up off the hanger near the closet and slinging it over her shoulder just as something catches her eyes, a hint of unfamiliarity near the dining table.\n\nTurning, Lauren sees Natalie's book bag slung over the chair. She knows it's Natalie's because of the handwriting, the scribbled band names and phrases on the book bag matching the image in Lauren's mind of curly print on the notes Natalie leaves for them the nights she babysits. The bag is weathered and torn in what seem to be strategic positions, a carryover from her recently relinquished high school career. Last Lauren checked, Natalie's enrolled at Miami-Dade College—formerly Miami-Dade Community College—and Lauren finds it odd that she wouldn't buy a new bag for this new phase in her life. Lauren would have.\n\nLauren considers picking up the bag and taking it outside, walking down a ways—towards the stairs and the elevator—and holding the bag over the railing for a second, studying the White-Out sketches and letting them sink into her eyes, her mind, her body, then tossing the bag over the edge and watching as it lands on the concrete below, splitting open and spilling its contents across the ground like a suicidal jumper. Notebook, pencils, pens, paper, a textbook or two, all strewn across the sidewalk.\n\nBut that would be yet another choice on the long list of ways to respond to this, a decision she's not willing to make right now. So, instead, Lauren opens the door, walks out, quietly closes and locks it, then heads back to her car.\n\nIn Justin's bedroom, Rick raises his head from the carpet, Natalie raising hers from his chest.\n\n\"Did you hear that?\" he asks.\n\n\"No,\" Natalie says, pulling him towards her. \"Stop being paranoid.\"\n\nAnd even though Rick's pretty sure he heard something, Natalie's extremely persuasive.\n\nExtremely.\n\n-2-\n\nSean's cell phone rings at 11:02 am. It rings again at 11:03, then 11:04, and when it rings again at 11:05 he's ready to throw the thing through a fucking wall.\n\nSean snatches the phone up, looks at the time and the caller ID and curses under his breath as he presses talk and jams the contraption against his ear.\n\n\"What?\" he yells.\n\n\"Sean.\" On the other end, his brother's voice.\n\n\"Marcus,\" Sean says. \"I told you, no calls before 12.\"\n\n\"I need a ride home,\" he says. \"Asap.\"\n\nSean wraps his pillow around his head, smacks his lips. Tongue pasty, breath like a bird shitted in his mouth while he was asleep. Sean glances at the phone again, at the time, then something clicks and he says:\n\n\"It's eleven o'clock.\"\n\n\"I know,\" Marcus says.\n\n\"Since when did they start letting you guys out at eleven?\"\n\n\"They don't,\" he says. Model of concision.\n\n\"Ok, am I missing something?\"\n\n\"I got suspended,\" Marcus says, exasperated, like Sean should've already known. Which, he guesses, he should've, since this is the third time this year.\n\n\"I'll be there in half an hour,\" Sean says.\n\n\"Thanks.\"\n\n\"This is ridiculous, Marcus,\" Sean says, but he's already hung up. Sean tosses the phone on his nightstand and it immediately rings again. He groans and picks it back up but it's his mother, and it's obvious she's already heard about Marcus when she yells:\n\n\"Sean! It's your mother!\" And before he can respond, hisses, \"I'm getting so bloody sick and tired of his crap. Can you believe this? This is just outrageous. I have _no_ idea what we're going to do with him.\"\n\nSean doesn't even know how she knows he's on the line. He hasn't said hi or anything, not even a word. He just picked up the phone, pressed talk, and there she was, in all her glory. And frankly, he doesn't plan on saying anything until she's done either. Situations like these, he knows anything he says will only piss her off even more, or worse: redirect her rage at him, like he's the one who put Marcus up to whatever shit he got himself into this time.\n\nLast time Marcus called Sean to pick him up from school, it was because he'd been caught piercing some freshman chick's nose in an upstairs bathroom using a sewing needle dipped in rubbing alcohol and a lighter flame, an ice pack held against the girl's nostril until it was practically blue and she couldn't feel a thing. Marcus had somehow convinced the girl he knew what he was doing, even though he didn't and admitted to Sean afterwards that he'd Googled \"how to pierce someone's nose\" in his iPhone the night before.\n\n\"He's really outdone himself this time,\" Sean's mother says probingly. She waits until she's sure Sean's not going to take the bait, then sighs. \"Your father's blood pressure is going to be miserable tonight. I'm sorry to bother you, honey, but can you please pick him up?\"\n\n\"Already on it,\" Sean croaks.\n\n\"He called you?\"\n\n\"He called me,\" Sean says.\n\n\"Of course he did,\" she says, sarcastically. Sean has no idea what that's supposed to mean. He sits up and scratches his chest, trying not to groan when his neck and back pop and a slice of pain cuts across his forehead.\n\n\"Ma,\" he says. \"Have you ever thought that there might be more to this than Marcus just being an asshole?\"\n\n\"Language,\" she says.\n\n\"He's a teenager,\" Sean says. \"Teenagers are all depressed. This is what they do. They do stupid shit. You should be happy he's not one of the suicidal ones or something.\" Sean pauses, not actually knowing if any of that's true. All he knows is Marcus isn't nearly as much of a dick around him as he is at home. \"He just needs somebody to listen to him.\"\n\n\"Don't give me that nonsense,\" his mother yells. \"We do listen to him. Marcus isn't some extraordinary case who deserves special treatment. Your father and I just had to postpone our anniversary cruise, did you know that?\"\n\n\"No,\" Sean says, with sadness in his voice for her benefit, though he has no idea what the hell that has to do with this situation.\n\n\"Your father can't get the time off,\" she continues. \"I was really looking forward to the trip and yes, I'm extremely upset. You don't see me getting suspended or fired or arrested or wherever else your brother's heading. He's _completely_ destroying his future.\"\n\n\"Aren't we exaggerating just a little bit, Ma?\"\n\n\" _We_ are not exaggerating anything,\" she hisses. \"That's exactly the mentality that gets him into these things in the first place, Sean. Leniency is not what your brother needs. He needs discipline. Discipline and a firm set of rules.\" Her voice rises to shrill levels. \"How can you say I'm exaggerating? Do you even know what he _did_?\"\n\n\"Ok, God,\" Sean says. \"I'm sorry, Ma. You're absolutely right.\" He pauses for effect. \"What did he do anyways?\"\n\n\"Ask him yourself,\" she spits. \"I'm done with this. I'm much too busy and I don't want to bother your father at work right now, so please, just pick him up and tell him something.\"\n\n\"I'll talk to him, Ma,\" Sean says, knowing that it's pointless to argue with either of them, his brother or his mother.\n\n\"Thank you, honey,\" she says, her friendly psychiatric tone slipping back into her voice. \"Maybe he'll listen to your brand of reason,\" she adds.\n\nSean wonders what the hell that's supposed to mean, but stays quiet.\n\n\"How are you?\" she asks, her voice softening. \"I never know how you're doing anymore. You never call, never visit. You live five miles away and it's like you're in Alaska.\"\n\n\"Sorry, Ma,\" Sean says. \"I've been busy.\"\n\nThere's a long pause and he braces himself for a probing conversation, maybe another one of her passive aggressive rants about how he needs to start doing something with his degree and how he can come intern at her office until he starts grad school (for some reason, Sean's parents—particularly his mother—have been under the very confident impression for an extremely long time that he plans on going to graduate school to get his doctorate in psychology, like his mom did. He doesn't know who gave them that idea. It certainly wasn't him) but she surprises him instead by saying:\n\n\"Well, happy birthday anyways, honey.\"\n\nSean's eyes shoot open and there's his Hooter's calendar on his door but, still, the thing's outdated, so he takes his phone away from his ear and sees on the digital display that, yes, it is indeed October 29th. His birthday. Exactly two and a half decades since he was born. Exactly 53 weeks since Maria packed her shit and walked out on him. Exactly one year since his best friend splattered his head all over the hood of his car.\n\n\"Thanks, Ma,\" he says, only his voice cracks near the end so all that comes out is \"Than—\"\n\n\"Try and enjoy yourself today,\" she says, and he hears somebody yell in the background. \"I have to go handle some stuff, I'll talk to you later.\"\n\nSean hangs up and lies there for a minute, trying to put the birthday thing out of his head. It's like a looming monster in his consciousness though, and after a moment of hard breathing he turns to his night stand and grabs his pipe and the small bag of weed sitting next to his lamp. Opening the bag and pinching off a piece of the two small buds he's got left, he sprinkles the flakes into the charred bowl of the pipe and grabs his lighter. Within seconds he's got the flame held to the bowl and he's inhaling, pulling in as much as he can fit in his lungs then sitting there holding his breath, letting the tingle hit his chest and the back of his throat and his mind before he finally exhales in a cloud of smoke.\n\nA moment later Sean's head is buzzing and thoughts of his mom and Maria and Leon and birthdays are gone, and instead he's thinking about Marcus. He probably should talk to him like his mom wants him to. But—knowing Marcus—whatever just got him suspended was probably something relatively epic, in the relatively epic universe of high-school-dom; some act with just enough cool and dumb in it to boost his popularity without actually fucking up his already elevated chances of going to a kick ass college. Marcus is a smart dude (an understatement), smarter than most other seventeen year olds. One of those rare combinations of people who get straight A's yet are so laid back and make it look so easy that you can't call them a nerd without looking stupid.\n\nBut Sean's supposed to act like what he's feeling is disappointment rather than envy that his brother figured out how to navigate the upper echelons of high school better than he ever did. Sean says fuck it. Marcus can handle himself.\n\nSean's finally getting out of bed with a groan and snatching his Shambles uniform off the carpet when there's a knock at the door. Derek pokes his head in, looks him up and down. Sean remembers the tantrum from last night and waits for Derek to tell him again how much of a dick he is. Instead, he smiles wide.\n\n\"Hey,\" he says. \"You're awake. Happy b-day, bro.\"\n\nSean sticks his tongue out and Derek laughs.\n\n\"Don't know what's so happy about it,\" Sean says, wading through the pile of empty beer cans on the carpet until he stumbles past Derek, out into the hall and into the bathroom at the end.\n\n\"Can you stop being pessimistic for once in your life?\" he calls out.\n\n\"No,\" Sean yells back.\n\n\"What are you doing tonight?\"\n\n\"Working.\"\n\n\"I know that, dick,\" he says. \"I mean after.\"\n\nSean stares at himself in the mirror, his bloodshot eyes with bags the size of pants pockets under them, skin the color of a Butterfinger someone dropped in a muddy gutter.\n\n\"Maybe heading to Dill's,\" Sean says, though Dill's Tavern is pretty much a guarantee for him after work these days.\n\n\"Hit me up when you get out,\" Derek says. \"I'll join. Birthday shots on me.\"\n\n\"Joy,\" Sean grumbles.\n\nHe brushes his teeth and washes his face and a couple of minutes later he's in his car, blinded by the sun, even after he puts the shades on. The buzz of the weed was supposed to dull these proceedings, but he can still feel the poke of a hangover in his left temple and his driver's seat is fucking _baking_ , so he just sits there for a moment taking deep breaths and letting the air conditioner blast the car with heated air that takes forever to cool down. And in that moment he seriously considers just saying screw it all and heading down to the Keys, selling his piece-of-shit car and figuring out the rest from there. It'd probably suck for a while, but at least it would be different. This shit right here's getting monotonous, like he's sleepwalking through his days. He can't even remember if he got dressed or not before he walked out, and wonders for a second if he just got in his car wearing nothing but his underwear.\n\nThen Sean's vision clears and he touches his chest, feels the top button of his Shambles uniform, looks down and brushes a piece of lint off his work pants. He sighs, turns on his car and pulls out of the complex, headed towards Sideview High.\n\n-3-\n\nLauren doesn't notice she's been sitting at the stop sign a block away from her apartment until the person behind her starts blaring their car horn. Lauren raises her hand in apology and pulls off, turns a corner and drives into the first parking lot she can find, outside of a self-storage building. Putting the car in park, she resumes staring into the distance, not really looking at anything physical, rather the stretch of memories involving her and Rick, miles worth of images that lead all the way back to the day they met.\n\nRick's parents initiated their first meeting in fact, starting a conversation with Lauren's mom at her freshman orientation at FIU almost six years ago. The conversation went pretty well, considering it was Lauren's mom. She only questioned Rick's parents a couple of times about their divorce (uncomfortable, probing questions; standard for her mother) before she noticed Lauren's glares and subsequently limited herself to comments on the various buildings and college majors. Rick's parents joined her in the observations and Caitlyn (Lauren's younger sister, sixteen at the time, already uncannily beautiful and wearing tiny shorts and a midriff shirt, reveling in the stares of every college boy who passed by) wandered off into the student union, which left Rick and Lauren alone.\n\nThose first few moments standing away from their parents were awkward. Lauren hates being tossed into situations where she's supposed to make friends with people she doesn't know. It always feels so forced. Rick didn't hesitate though.\n\n\"You excited?\" he asked, strolling a couple of feet to her right. The air had that sticky quality summers in Miami tend to give everything, and Lauren used the orientation pamphlet to fan her forehead.\n\n\"Pretty excited,\" she lied. Excitement wasn't exactly the word she would have used to describe how she felt. Fearful, maybe. A little disappointed. She had wanted to leave Miami for school, but her mother had guilt-tripped her into staying and going to FIU. She cried to Lauren during the application process as Lauren sat there filling out forms for USC and NYU and Duke, telling Lauren that she couldn't abandon her. She didn't come right out and say it, but she knows her mother wanted to add \"Not like your father did.\" Which seriously pissed her off.\n\nAnd yet, she'd stayed.\n\nLauren didn't tell Rick any of this until way later though. During that first meeting, all Lauren did was just smile and nod.\n\n\"Me too,\" Rick said, then frowned.\n\n\"You ok?\" Lauren asked.\n\n\"Yeah,\" he said. \"I just\"—he paused, scratching his head absently—\"FIU was my last choice. I only came here because they didn't want me to leave.\" He motioned to his parents, then shook his head. \"Up to me, I'd be at UCLA.\" Staring at his shoes, he kicked a pebble off the sidewalk. \"But whatever, it was too expensive anyways.\"\n\nSomething clicked in Lauren then. It wasn't like she knew then that they were going to eventually start dating, that two years in she'd get pregnant, drop out of college and marry him. There's no possible way a person could know any of that in a moment so fresh, though it would be interesting to see how many people would still go through with it all if they did. Lauren felt something that day, not a complete feeling—nothing identifiable—but more than she normally would have for somebody she'd known for all of five minutes.\n\nThey exchanged numbers, texted each other a couple of times in the week after that, and pretty soon they were hanging out regularly. They didn't date right away; there was nothing but the slightest romantic tension for almost a year. It turned out that Rick had a girlfriend when they met, and by time they broke that off, Lauren had met an FIU baseball player who she embarked on a six month tryst with, which ended abruptly when she woke up one day and realized the last thing she wanted to do was eat lunch with the guy and listen to him talk about his batting average again.\n\nLauren thinks deep down she and Rick knew what would eventually end up happening though. Either way, she was still surprised when she broke up with the baseball player (\"I can do better than you anyways,\" was his response) and wanted nothing more than to tell Rick about it. Not just talk to him, but _see_ him. And when she did, she knew. That day, she met up at the Pollo Tropical on campus and, as he approached, she felt something twist itself into a totally new shape in her chest. He'd been single for a couple of weeks then, and it was the first time both of them had been single at the same time. She also realized that, at some point in their year long friendship, she'd fallen in love with him.\n\nIt wasn't one of those drawn-out scenarios that took place after the realization, where Lauren hesitated then waited weeks or months to tell him. Rick really was easy to talk to, and he kind of drew information out of people without even trying. He was intuitive like that. So that day, the moment he got within speaking distance of her, he knew something was up.\n\n\"What's wrong?\" he asked.\n\n\"I dumped him,\" she said.\n\n\"Batting average guy?\"\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\n\"Cool,\" he said, smiling. \"Can I ask why? Or do you not want to talk about it?\"\n\n\"Because,\" Lauren said, staring at him and trying to gauge his internal compass. She opened her mouth but the words wouldn't come out, so she took a deep breath and finally blurted \"I think I'm in love with you.\" Then she covered her mouth, her face instantly turning red.\n\nRick stared at her for a long moment—an _unnervingly_ long moment—then laughed. Not a _that's ridiculous_ laugh—thank God, Lauren would have had a heart attack—but more of a _get out of here, are you for real?_ laugh. They stood a foot away from each other and she remembers how his eyebrows rose, surprised and disbelieving. She kept eye contact with him and nodded in response, then he leaned in and kissed her. Then they went back to his place and had sex. And Lauren can't remember ever being happier than she was that entire day.\n\nTwo years later she woke up and puked into the garbage can next to her bed.\n\nLauren had a part time job back then, at the same CVS pharmacy she works at full time right now. She had to work that morning and she knew the quality of sickness she was feeling—the sudden nausea and subsequent quick disappearance of said nausea—was unusual. So, as soon as she got to work, she walked down the family planning aisle, scanned the place for anybody she knew who might see, and when the coast was clear she picked up a pregnancy test and ran to the bathroom.\n\nSitting in the stall with the test between her legs—steady stream of urine falling on the little white strip—Lauren remembers feeling so young, like when little girls play with dolls and pretend the plastic molding is an actual child. Her child. She didn't know when she'd gotten old enough to be able to _seriously_ take a pregnancy test. To be at work and taking a test right there in the handicapped stall of the bathroom.\n\nLauren finished peeing and stuck the test on the corner of the sink to sit for the full two minutes instructed, all the while thinking that she was being ridiculous, though the nausea had returned. Then she peeked over to see the results. Then she sat and stared at the wall for a while before she stormed out of the bathroom, stole six more various tests and took them all.\n\nAnd we all know how that story ends.\n\nShe had pondered the situation prior to that day (show us a girl—especially a girl in love—that says she doesn't think about getting pregnant and we'll show you a goddamn liar) but had never thought it would actually happen, at least not so soon. She always thought Rick and her getting married was a possibility, even a future guarantee. So were the inevitable children. Lauren loved—loves—Rick, and wanted— _wants_ —to be with him, and she loves kids and always wanted at least one, if not two. So it wasn't like her being pregnant was a tragedy.\n\nYet still, she thought she had time. She had plans. Graduate school, some traveling, a whole slew of things she wanted to do with her life and with Rick before they settled down into the married-with-children lifestyle. But that day, that part of her future had suddenly become very immediate, right there in her face.\n\nThough she didn't know that explicitly right away, she admits. She wasn't sitting there thinking about all the things she was about to do, all the near-future obligations, all the things she _couldn't_ do anymore.\n\nSitting in the bathroom at her job that day, all Lauren really saw were the lines: blue and red lines (and one test with a little happy face on it) strewn around her. It was the only thing her mind could process. Which is probably why she didn't cry or smile or do anything but stare at those pregnancy tests and the door of the stall until the pattern of the wood and the colors of the test results blurred together into a swirl of brown and red and blue and white that made her feel like someone had flung piles of dog shit all over the American flag. The thought drew a fresh lurch and she turned, dry heaving into the toilet.\n\nLauren told Rick that night and he was supportive, or as supportive as a twenty-one year old college student who just found he's going to be a father can be. Everything else that happened after—from the dropping out of school to the small family wedding to the apartment in West Kendall to Rick having sex with their babysitter—is, as they say, history.\n\nLauren blinks a couple of times, coming back to the present and looking around the car as if it just materialized around her. And in that moment of confusion, Justin's tiny face pops into her mind, right in front of her eyes as if he's sitting in the passenger seat next to her. Without hesitation she starts the engine and pulls out of the parking lot, headed towards Children's Fantasy Preschool to pick up her son.\n\nstep two: confrontation\n\n-4-\n\nSean pulls up in front of Sideview High—his alma mater—and steps out of the car just as the classroom doors burst open and a stampede of kids shoots out, separating like cattle in a slaughterhouse as they head to their next period. Behind him, birds chirp and the sun shines down brightly from the cloudless sky on the front yards of the luxurious Pinecrest homes across from the school where the palm trees sway gently in the light breeze and it's a beautiful fucking day and Sean wishes it would all just stop. Even with the weed in his system, his head is still killing him.\n\nSean walks up to the front gate and stares at the huge sign above the school with the name and Sideview's seal: a dolphin flying out of the ocean with a palm tree in the background. He's always thought that was ridiculous. He's lived in Miami most of his life and the only place he's ever seen a damn dolphin was at Miami Seaquarium, which is nothing but a tourist trap with sea life that could have been imported from California for all he knows. Sean presses his sunglasses further up his nose and scowls at the building in front of him.\n\nNeedless to say, he hates this place.\n\nInside the front gate, Sean takes all of three steps towards the front doors before a golf cart comes flying up, screeching to a stop in front of him. The man sitting in it has to weigh at least 350 pounds, his belly barely covered by a green t-shirt with the word \"SECURITY\" stretched wide across his back. He glares at Sean like he's a potential terrorist, and Sean wishes he was surprised but he's not—he knew this man was going to give him a hard time before he even got out of his car. His name's Larry and he's been working here for-fucking-ever, since before Sean was a freshman, which was over a decade ago now. Larry walked on his own back then, wasn't so big yet that his belly sat on his thighs and he needed a gallon bottle of Powerade with him just so he wouldn't pass out.\n\nIt's obvious he doesn't remember Sean, but Sean remembers him and knows how this conversation's going to go even before it starts, which really just makes this shit boring.\n\n\"What's your business here?\" Larry.\n\n\"Just picking up my little brother, same as last time.\" Sean.\n\n\"You sure about that?\"\n\n\"Yup, he's in the office right now.\"\n\n\"Yeah, right.\"\n\nSean raises an eyebrow, clears his throat.\n\n\"Alright,\" he says. \"Thanks for, uh...that.\" Sean sidesteps the golf cart. \" Gonna go get my brother now. Then I'll be out of your way.\"\n\nSean starts to walk off and the motor on Larry's golf cart whirrs into action as he shoots forward and cuts Sean off again.\n\n\"Just a minute,\" Larry says, scowling. \"I need to see some ID.\"\n\nSean rolls his eyes.\n\n\"You just saw me last week,\" he says. Larry just sits there staring at him. \"You know my brother, Marcus.\" No movement, and Sean throws his hands up. \"Come on, man. I used to go here, not too long ago. Class of '05?\"\n\n\"You and half the people in a twenty mile radius,\" Larry says, holding a hand out. \"ID, please.\"\n\n\"Fuck,\" Sean mutters under his breath, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet at the exact same moment he pictures it sitting on the nightstand at his apartment. Cursing, he checks all his pockets. Left his phone at home too, nothing but his keys in hand. He smiles up at Larry, suddenly amicable.\n\n\"Larry, listen—\"\n\n\"You don't get extra points for knowing my name, potty mouth. _Identification_ , please.\"\n\nSean can't help it—he chuckles when Larry says \"potty mouth.\"\n\n\"Look,\" Sean says, forcing his smile away and pulling off his sunglasses, completely forgetting that he and the sun are not on good terms right now. The moment the glasses clear the threshold, Larry vanishes in a flash of blindness. Sean tries to squint through it, hoping he's making eye contact with the large man.\n\n\"Right now,\" Sean says, \"my little brother's in there—in Principal Lawson's office most likely—and he just called me to come pick him up because he's been suspended for...I don't know what, doesn't matter, he's a good kid who's going through his rebellious stage right now and he needs his older brother there to help him get through it. Now, I don't know the details of this particular situation, but I would like to find out and it is my genetic and legal right to do so. So if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go find my brother and take him home.\"\n\nIn Sean's head, this rant is the defining moment of his day, causing Larry to hang his head in shame and let him pass, watching with jealousy as he struts inside the school.\n\nWhat actually happens, though, is that Sean tries to step around Larry after yelling at him and Larry shoots forward again on his golf cart, running over Sean's left foot. Which fucking hurts. Then Larry—surprisingly agile for a man his size—puts a hand on Sean's chest and pushes him back. Sean stumbles into the fence and Larry points at him.\n\n\"Get off this property before I call the authorities.\" Then a quick stern nod and he adds, \"And don't come back unless you have some ID.\"\n\nSean opens his mouth to say something slick, then realizes he's embarrassed as shit and there's a bunch of students staring at him, so he just turns and heads back to his car where—in the space of the two or three minutes since he got out—a police officer's appeared and she's just slapping a ticket down on his windshield when he reaches the driver's side. He's about to pull the same shit he just pulled on Larry, yelling about how he's only been here for a minute and this is a goddamn injustice and doesn't she have anything better to do with her time like catch _actual_ criminals? But knowing the result will probably be exactly the same, and seeing as how he just got schooled by a fat man on a golf cart—not to mention he doesn't have his wallet which, incidentally, has his driver's license in it—Sean decides to shut up, grab the ticket and leave.\n\n-5-\n\nLauren puts her car in park and stares at the building without actually seeing it, then closes her eyes, takes a few deep breaths, turns down the radio, counts to ten, then opens her eyes again. She pulls her makeup kit out of her purse along with a napkin from the glove compartment, using the napkin to wipe away the small lines of runny mascara, reapplying the mascara and eyeliner, adding a little foundation to her nose and cheeks, then puts the kit away and tosses the napkin and adjusts her shirt.\n\nAll this to yield a very specific result: she will walk into Justin's preschool right now, her son will happily greet her, and he will not ask any questions she cannot answer.\n\nLauren knows she doesn't actually have to pick Justin up right now. She knows that he still has a full seven hours before the final six o'clock pick up time, and that she could go on about her day and pick him up at the normal time when he'll expect it and not be alarmed in the slightest.\n\nShe wants to see her son though. She wants to see his face—touch his cheeks and the corners of his eyes, slightly upturned, like looking closely in a mirror—and know that he's real. She wants to know that she hasn't completely wasted her time.\n\nInside Children's Fantasy, at the front desk, Lauren signs Justin out and smiles grimly at the skinny blonde receptionist that Rick's always staring at for a few seconds longer than necessary. The woman smiles back as Justin runs up to Lauren on wobbly legs.\n\nSoon, Lauren's driving aimlessly with Justin gurgling in the back seat. He says something which would probably sound like gibberish to most people, but which she recognizes as him commenting on her picking him up early.\n\n\"Yes, baby,\" she says. \"Mommy missed you and wanted to see you.\"\n\n\"Miss you,\" he says, and Lauren smiles. \"Daddy?\" he adds, and Lauren frowns.\n\n\"Daddy's at work, baby,\" she says, glancing in the rearview mirror. He turns and looks out the window and she can tell by the small furrow in his eyebrows that he's disappointed. She picked him up from daycare early, which usually indicates there's some sort of special occasion involving both Rick and her. Lauren feels a flicker of envy, at Rick and Justin's father/son relationship, and that she has to witness Justin's disappointment and Rick doesn't.\n\n\"Daddy,\" Justin says quietly.\n\n\"Daddy's gone,\" she snaps, then immediately regrets it when his eyebrows drop even further. \"I mean—not _gone_ gone, baby. Just momentarily. He's coming back. I mean...Daddy's on a business trip.\"\n\nJustin looks at his mother's face in the rearview mirror, confused now. Lauren opens her mouth to explain what a business trip is, but her voice catches and she realizes if she says anything else about Rick or this situation she's going to get emotional, which she knows will only make things so much worse. The last time she cried in front of Justin (Rick and her were fighting about them asking her mom for money—Lauren, against; Rick, for—and Justin walked in right as she was in the middle of a sobbing/screaming fit) he started crying too and it took all of half an hour to calm him down. It effectively ended their fight, but Lauren remembers the feeling of helplessness, seeing Justin both scared and hurt at the same time, not understanding why they were so mad at each other. She and Rick made a vow that night to never fight in front of him again, and they've kept the promise ever since. Rick's not here now, but Lauren still doesn't want any of their problems to spill over into Justin's life. Not just yet at least.\n\nLauren reaches back and puts a hand on his leg, squeezing gently.\n\n\"You'll see Daddy later, baby,\" she says. \"It's just us for a little while though, ok?\"\n\nHe nods and his eyebrows raise a little, though he still looks skeptical. Lauren will take what she can get.\n\nIt seems like Lauren drives for hours, but according to the car's dashboard it's only fifteen minutes later that she pulls up to her mother's house. This is not, in fact, where she wants to be—is actually the second to _last_ place she wants to be, the last place being her own home (which makes her physically sick at the thought of reentering). Lauren's got nowhere else to go though. Caitlyn didn't answer her phone, and she hasn't had anything resembling a good non-sibling friend since college.\n\nPulling up to her childhood home always brings with it both a sense of nostalgia and claustrophobia. Not to say she had a bad upbringing or anything. An interesting and tragic one, yes, but nothing she would call completely repulsive. Her father was Italian-American, born in Long Island before her grandparents moved with him to Miami, where her dad grew to become a dedicated and successful businessman. He came into the stock market at the beginning of the initial dot-com boom and was one of the few smart ones that fled right before things tanked. The move left him with a sizable portfolio and a lot of prestige in certain camps, utter infamy in others.\n\nHe died when Lauren was twelve, Caitlyn ten; a brain aneurysm that took him one late afternoon in his Downtown Miami condo. The three of them—Lauren, Caitlyn, and their mother—were unaware at the time of this condo's existence. Therefore, they were also unaware that her father was using the condo to conduct his extramarital affairs with his various side women, the last of which took place between him and his recently hired twenty-two-year-old Puerto Rican secretary, Rebecca. And it was Rebecca who was left with the responsibility of dialing 911 that day, hysterically screaming that Lauren's father had collapsed on her during their lovemaking and she needed somebody to come get him off.\n\nThe aftermath was brutal. Lauren's mother completely forfeited her mourning phase, opting to spend the period of time following his death slandering her father's name, even at his own funeral. Ultimately the ordeal left Lauren devastated, Caitlyn disenchanted, and their mother a multi-millionaire widow.\n\nThrough it all, though, Lauren still remembers her dad as he was around her: loving, funny, warm, handsome. It's an image her mother's tried to erase every day since.\n\nLauren turns onto the property, in the middle of Coral Gables about six blocks from University of Miami, an area that is nothing if not high-end living. The house itself is a two story monstrosity sitting on a few acres of land with an angel fountain out front and a driveway that's the same width as Lauren's entire apartment building. There's a brand new Range Rover parked out front and, as she pulls up behind it, Lauren sees her mother step out of the house with a purse as big as a picnic basket hanging from her wrist. There's a large sun hat sitting precariously on her head, wisps of curly blond hair fluttering beneath. She's cut it in the past few weeks since the last Lauren saw her, added some shades of brown streaks too. Lauren parks the car and steps out right as her mom turns and notices she's there, a broad smile breaking across her youthful face.\n\n\"Darling,\" she says, coming towards Lauren with outstretched arms. Her mother takes all her cues from old Audrey Hepburn movies, even though she's only forty-five, way too young to have been affected by them. She didn't always act like this though. Lauren assumes she saw something on TV sometime not too long after her father died and subsequently created the persona she bombards Lauren with right now.\n\nThey embrace and her mom steps back, holding Lauren's shoulders so her profile is visible.\n\n\"You've lost weight,\" she says. Not in a pleasant tone, but more like Lauren's anorexic.\n\n\"I started running again,\" she says.\n\n\"Are you eating right?\" her mom asks.\n\n\"Yes, Mom.\"\n\n\"You look pale. Did Rick say something to you about your weight?\" She cocks her head and purses her lips with determination. \"You don't have to do anything to your body you don't want to, baby, remember that. Especially not for a man.\"\n\n\"Mom,\" Lauren says. \"You exercise more than I do.\"\n\n\"I do it for myself,\" she quips.\n\n\"I do too, Mom.\"\n\n\"Are you sure?\"\n\n\"Yes, Mother.\"\n\n\"Because in the end it's your body and your mind and he owns neither.\"\n\n\"Mom,\" Lauren says, clenching her teeth. \"I started running because it's healthy.\"\n\nShe assesses Lauren long and hard. Her mother's low opinion of men is quite understandable, given the circumstances. It makes her a difficult person to deal with for all parties involved though. She refused to remarry after the funeral, and not for lack of attention. There were all types of interest in those first few years for a beautiful, mid-thirties multi-millionaire, even if she was a widow with two kids. And her mother—consciously or subconsciously, Lauren will never know—used and abused nearly every one of the men that courted her, then left them on the curb with the Monday morning trash. Sometimes literally.\n\n\"To what do I owe this pleasure?\" she asks.\n\n\"I just wanted to visit,\" Lauren says.\n\n\"What did he do?\" she asks, taking a step back, eyes wide.\n\n\"Nothing,\" Lauren says reflexively.\n\n\"You're lying,\" she says and Lauren rolls her eyes. This isn't some intuitive move on her part. She would think Rick did something even if Lauren came over here _with_ him, grinning ear to ear and doing back flips.\n\n\"I don't want to talk about it,\" Lauren says, walking over to the back door of her car. She opens it and unbuckles Justin from his seat, holding him as she closes the door and heads towards the front of the house.\n\n\"That is not acceptable,\" her mother says behind her, and Lauren can hear her quick, light footsteps in pursuit.\n\n\"I don't care, Mom,\" she says. \"You don't have to accept it. I don't want to talk about it, and I'm not going to.\"\n\n\"You can't bottle things up, they'll only get worse,\" she says. \"It's like cancer. You have to catch it early or it'll spread.\"\n\n\"Thanks for the analogy, Mom,\" Lauren says, opening the front door and stepping inside. \"But I think I'll be fine.\"\n\n\"What did he do?\"\n\n\"Nothing, Mother,\" Lauren says, turning and glaring at her. \"Can you drop it?\"\n\nShe studies Lauren for a moment, arms crossed, scowling.\n\n\"Are you going to at least talk to him about it?\" she asks quietly.\n\n\"No, I—\" Lauren pauses, shaking her head absently. \"I wouldn't even know where to start.\"\n\n\"So there _is_ something,\" she says, smiling triumphantly.\n\nLauren groans. Her mother studies her face, burning a hole in Lauren's forehead with her eyes. Lauren's about to turn away and continue through the door and into the house when her mother points at her.\n\n\"He slept with somebody, didn't he?\"\n\nLauren's mouth drops open to deny the charge. She can't though, so she just bounces Justin in her arms, staring at the woman staring back at her. Lauren and her mother look alike in the faintest manner: they're both around the same height with the same light green almond-shaped eyes. Everything else—Lauren's dark hair and button nose and puffy cheeks—she got from her father, with her mother bestowing the rest of her bounty on Lauren's sister: Caitlyn's got the same full blond hair, the effortlessly proportional figure, the pouty lips and attitude. Lauren feels beautiful most days when she's away from them and standing in front of her own mirror. Around them, though, it's a different story.\n\n\"I told you, I don't want to talk about it,\" Lauren says finally, her voice wavering a little. She walks inside and puts Justin down on the tile. He sits for a moment then stands, waits until he gets his balance then stumbles across the tile like a drunk, around the corner and into the living room.\n\n\"You being here right now is a good thing,\" her mother says, nodding. \"I can tell that look on your face, the look of betrayal. I'm glad you came to me for support.\" She pauses, stepping inside and closing the door behind her. \"He slept with somebody, didn't he?\" She repeats.\n\n\"Mom,\" Lauren says, throat tightening. \"Please. Don't.\"\n\n\"I knew it,\" she says, in such a resigned tone that Lauren's actually convinced her mother foresaw this moment the day Rick asked her to marry him. \"Who is it?\" she asks.\n\n\"Does it matter?\" Lauren says.\n\nSuddenly her mother's face drops and she approaches Lauren with her arms at her side, palms extended and facing her.\n\n\"Oh, baby,\" she says. \"Baby, I'm so, so sorry.\"\n\nHer voice is so soft, catching Lauren so off guard that her defenses don't have a chance to barricade her emotions. The result is Lauren involuntarily dissolves into her mother, bursting into tears. Her legs grow weak, and when she holds Lauren, Lauren doesn't hug her back so much as fall into her embrace. Her mother rubs her back and whispers inaudible words into her ear as Lauren unloads into her blouse, clutching the fabric in her fists and shuddering. They stand like that for a moment until Lauren's gasps begin to subside and she can finally breathe again. Then behind her something crashes and she hears Justin giggle.\n\nLauren untangles herself from her mother's grip and dives towards the living room, eyes wide with fright, nose running. She finds Justin sitting on the tile, rubbing his hands through a pile of dried rose petals he knocked out of a glass container sitting on the coffee table. He looks up at her as she approaches, pointing at the rose petals and giggling again then returning to rubbing his hands through them. Then he notices her tears and his face drops.\n\n\"Mama?\" he says.\n\n\"Yes, baby,\" Lauren says, crouching next to him. She puts her hands in the pile of rose petals too and rubs them around, trying to distract him. \"Roses, baby. Nice, aren't they?\"\n\nJustin looks down at them then back up at her, and she can tell he's trying to figure out what's wrong with this situation. She turns her head and swipes quickly at her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt then looks back at him and smiles as wide as she can.\n\n\"You want to stay with Grandma for a little?\" she asks him.\n\nJustin looks behind her as Lauren's mother approaches, standing next to her and looking down at them. He giggles again and goes back to rubbing his hands through the flower petals and Lauren sighs, relieved. Her mom smiles, despite a deep sadness in her eyes.\n\n\"They're good at this age,\" her mom says. \"Manageable, loving.\" She pats Lauren's shoulder. \"Then they grow up, and everything turns to shit.\"\n\nLauren wants to respond and tell her mother that she's wrong. Not all men are bad, and if she has any say in it, Justin is going to grow up to be one of the good ones. Lauren still believes this too, despite the circumstances. But she doesn't feel like preaching right now, and her lunch break was over fifteen minutes ago.\n\n\"Can you watch him tonight?\" Lauren asks, clearing her throat. \"I have to get back to work then I'm going to hang out with Caitlyn, figure all this out.\"\n\n\"Caitlyn,\" she says, her voice monotone, lips suddenly stretched as thin as they can get.\n\n\"Yes, Mom,\" Lauren says. \"Caitlyn. My sister. Your daughter.\"\n\nBy the look on her face she obviously wants to give her opinion but is not sure whether or not it's a good time. It's not a good time.\n\n\"Of course, baby,\" she says finally, smiling and rubbing Lauren's shoulder. It feels good and reminds her why it wasn't such a horrible idea to come over here. No matter how frustrating they are, family is family. Lauren hugs her again, then they walk to the door. Lauren opens it and faces the Range Rover in the driveway, pointing at it.\n\n\"What's up with that?\" Lauren asks, swiping a hand across her cheeks.\n\n\"That thing?\" she says, cocking her head to the side curiously, as if the car appeared out of nowhere. She sucks her teeth and waves it off. \"The Benz was getting old.\"\n\n\"You traded it in?\"\n\n\"No, it's in the garage.\"\n\nLauren rolls her eyes and smiles.\n\n\"What do you need with two cars, Mom?\"\n\n\"Baby,\" she says, patting Lauren's back. \"If all we ever got in life was what we needed, things would be pretty damn boring, don't you think?\"\n\n-6-\n\nDriving back to Sideview High with his wallet placed firmly in his back pocket and his cell phone tossed on the dashboard, Sean passes by a Burger King and is struck by a memory of this one day when Maria had been at work and Leon came by the apartment with a bag of cheeseburgers and walked in telling Sean he couldn't have any.\n\nThat's how shit's been happening with him lately; the smallest thing will trigger a snapshot so vivid it's like somebody just punched him in the solar plexus with a Polaroid camera.\n\nFor some reason though, this day, Leon—instead of just closing the door behind him like he always did and walking over to the couch where Sean was sitting playing Madden—decided to look at the back of Sean and Maria's front door. Which was how he found \"The List.\"\n\n\"What the fuck is that?\" Leon asked, pointing at it and looking back at Sean like he'd just witnessed an alien bursting through their wall.\n\nSean paused the video game and looked over, immediately tensing up.\n\n\"Nothing,\" he said. \"A list.\"\n\n\"Obviously, dumbass,\" Leon said, peering closer at the paper. \"A list of what?\"\n\n\"Stuff,\" Sean said, unpausing the game. \"Quit stalling and come get your ass whooping.\"\n\n\"Stuff like what?\"\n\n\"Huh?\" Sean said dumbly.\n\n\"Stuff like what, Sean?\" Leon said. \"Like, what the hell is this thing?\"\n\n\"Goals!\" Sean yelled. \"God, can you not do what you're thinking of doing? Just let it go.\"\n\n\"Goals?\" Leon said, glancing at Sean then turning back to the list and reading aloud, \"Sean: get a real job, set a wedding date, get married, have a kid, start a gym membership, buy a house in a nice neighborhood with a fence, get a dog, figure out the most efficient way to run a 401K without—\" He stopped, turning to Sean. \"Are you fucking kidding me?\"\n\nSean paused the game again and looked at Leon who was staring at him with his mouth open.\n\n\"Those last two were supposed to be a joke,\" Sean said.\n\n\"Bro,\" Leon said, looking back at the list. \"Maria's side says she wants to become chief cardiac surgeon at Baptist and have two kids and a goddamn Yorkie.\"\n\n\"Yorkie's are cute,\" Sean said quietly.\n\n\"Did she put you up to this shit?\"\n\n\"We both came up with it,\" Sean said.\n\n\"Bullshit,\" he said, walking over and sitting on the opposite end of the couch. \"No way you came up with that shit. And if you did, I need to seriously reconsider our friend ship.\" He paused. \"And by 'reconsider' I mean 'terminate.'\"\n\n\"We _both_ came up with it,\" Sean repeated, feigning an attitude. \"What's your problem?\"\n\n\"Is that really what you want?\" he asked, pointing at the list.\n\nSean nodded and opened his mouth to affirm the nod with a \"yes\" but all that came out was a grunt. He looked away from Leon, who stared at his best friend for a moment, waiting.\n\n\"Sean!\" he yelled.\n\n\"Yeah!\" Sean yelled back. \"Yes, ok? That's what I want.\"\n\nLeon sat back, studying the greasy bag clutched in his fist, his expression blank. He sat like that for a while, then finally opened the bag and pulled a burger out. And Sean was just beginning to think he was going to let it go, pick up a controller and get oil all over it again so Sean would have to go get a wet napkin from the kitchen to clean it after he left—as usual—when Leon looked back at him and pointed at the list again.\n\n\"You know that's not possible anymore, right?\" he said.\n\nSean raised an eyebrow.\n\n\"What's not possible?\"\n\n\"That,\" he said, emphatically pointing at the list like he was stabbing it with an imaginary knife. \" _That_ shit. Not possible. Not like it used to be anyways. Was totally possible for our parents. Fuckin' A\"—he chuckled contemptuously—\"that shit was _easy_ for our parents'. But not us.\"\n\n\"What are you talking about?\" Sean asked.\n\n\"It's just not gonna happen,\" he said. \"Get it out of your head.\"\n\n\"Anything's possible.\"\n\n\"Sure,\" Leon said. \"If you're rich. And you don't have student loans coming out of your asshole. Neither of which applies to you.\"\n\n\"Funny.\"\n\n\"Seriously, what'd you tell me you're at now?\" he said. \"A hundred thou'?\"\n\n\"Seventy-five,\" Sean muttered.\n\n\"You know how long it's going to take to pay that shit off on a _bartender's_ salary?\" he asked. \"You think any of that shit's possible with that over your head? Why are you even setting yourself up for that fall?\"\n\n\"This conversation's not comfortable in any way,\" Sean said. \"Just in case you're wondering.\"\n\n\"I'm just being real, bro,\" Leon said, facing forward again and unwrapping the burger in his lap. \"Maria's got you brainwashed, thinking you guys are going to live some Brady Bunch life or some shit.\" He chuckles. \"That was the 60's and 70's, man. This is the 21st century. I'm making 60K a year and living with my parents. Know why?\"\n\n\"Because you're a bum?\" Sean said.\n\n\"Partly,\" Leon said, unfazed. \"But mostly because I'm realistic. I know that shit's different now than it used to be. All I'm trying to do is make sure I'm not bankrupt by time I'm thirty.\" He pauses and points a finger in Sean's face. \"And that I'm having _fun_. You should be concentrating on _that_ shit, Sean. Worry about yourself. Not\"—he turned and pointed at The List again—\"Whatever the fuck that is.\"\n\nThey dropped the conversation after that—Leon taking a bite of his burger and getting ketchup and mayo all over his shirt—and he never brought The List up again. So Sean never really got the chance—or had a reason to at least—to tell Leon how much that conversation stuck with him. He doesn't know if that slight change in his outlook had anything to do with everything that happened over the next few months—the deterioration of his and Maria's relationship, the deterioration of Sean's overall mood, culminating in Maria leaving him for somebody else and Leon crashing his car into a wall late one Saturday night—but Sean does know that everything Leon said to him that day touched some deep recess in his mind, some part he'd been ignoring for so long it had gotten pissed and turned to the dark side, coming out later on to rear its ugly head and put him where he's at right now.\n\nWhich is Sean's excuse for why he spits out a stream of curse words and flicks off the old lady in the car next to him when she tries to slip in his lane, honking his horn and speeding around her.\n\nThis ain't a fucking charity.\n\n-7-\n\nLauren puts on her white lab coat and sits on a stool near one of the two computers housing the pharmaceutical database. Steve fiddles away on the other one to her left, the huge bald spot in the middle of his head gleaming in the fluorescent light above. The pharmacy is empty at midday, and they don't usually get their rush until around 4:30. Lauren leaves at 5:30, so she only has to deal with it for an hour before Lynda, the other pharmacy tech, comes in.\n\nOn the counter in front of Lauren are stacks of prescription labels and a separate stack of white paper bags with the CVS logo printed across them. Her job is to count the pills, put them in a bottle, put the label on it, and give it to Steve—the pharmacist—for verification.\n\nThe first label calls for Yasmin, birth control. She grabs the paper, fills the prescription, then tries to fill the next one, but can't. She really doesn't want to be here right now. She knows she has to be, but knowing that doesn't change her desire to get up and walk out. Actually, it makes the desire even stronger.\n\nThere's an _US Weekly_ on a rack near the pharmacy's cash register, and for some reason she always finds herself staring at it. She has each week's cover memorized within hours of it being on the shelf, though she's never actually bought an issue. Reese Witherspoon's on this week's—smiling her jack-o-lantern smile with the headline \"Reese is Pregnant\" printed across her chest—and Lauren wonders if things are different for Reese and all other actresses like her. The thought seems irrational—of _course_ shit's different; she's an _actress_ —but it's there and Lauren can't make it go away: does Reese Witherspoon see life as one big movie? Does she call up past films in her mind when she gets stuck in a rocky situation? When she and Ryan Phillippe got divorced in real life, did she say to herself, \"Shit, I'll be okay. This is just like _Sweet Home Alabama_ \"?\n\nLauren wishes her life had a personal screenwriter, and that she could peek over his shoulder every once in a while and offer some suggestions. Or just fire him and get a new one.\n\nFor just a second, Lauren wonders if she's going insane. But insane people don't think they're insane, everybody knows that. But...since that fact of insanity is common knowledge, doesn't that mean an insane person could use it to convince themselves they're not actually insane? Wouldn't that make them even _more_ insane?\n\n\"Lauren?\"\n\nShe glances up and Steve's eyeing her curiously, the wrinkles in the corners of his mouth and eyes more pronounced when he frowns.\n\n\"You ok?\" he asks.\n\nLauren clears her throat, brushing a piece of lint off her pants.\n\n\"Yeah,\" she says. \"Fine. Why?\"\n\n\"You've been sitting there staring at the wall for like ten minutes,' he says.\n\nThe _US Weekly_ catches her eye again, and she feels the urge to shudder but pushes it away.\n\n\"Sorry,\" she says. \"I'm just—nothing.\"\n\n\"No problem,\" he says. \"Think you could watch the register for a sec, though? Jared's taking a break.\"\n\nJared is their cashier, a seventeen year old high school senior who is allowed to leave school early so he can come in here smelling like weed and do nothing but stare at the locked Controlled Substances cabinet in the back for unnaturally long periods of time. He also takes half hour smoke breaks whenever he wants with seemingly no consequence. It aggravates her.\n\nLauren nods and walks over to the register, poking at it as if it's an alien machine. She's about to sit on a stool when a man walks up to the counter. He's attractive, older, thirty maybe.\n\n\"Pick up for last name Stetson,\" he says. \"Linus Stetson.\"\n\n\"Linus?\" she repeats. She tries to keep the amusement out of her voice, but it's there already, not going anywhere.\n\n\"Yeah,\" he says, staring at her and repeating, slowly, \"Linus.\"\n\n\"Ok, sorry,\" she says, her face heating up. \"Just a sec.\"\n\nLauren spins around and searches the shelves behind her for Linus Stetson's prescription. It's not there, so she walks over to the recently bagged prescriptions, lined up and waiting for Steve to double check and sign off. Linus's is in the middle. She could pull it out of the queue and watch Steve roll his eyes and sign it reluctantly then listen to him tell her later that he doesn't like to upset the order of things and that customers can wait their turn and blah blah blah. Steve doesn't get mad. Ever, about anything from what she can tell. But he does get this look in his eyes that borders somewhere between annoyance and pity whenever something interrupts his routine. Lauren can't imagine what his home life must be like. Regardless, she could get Linus Stetson out of here in the next five minutes.\n\nBut she doesn't want to. Lauren wants Linus to hang around a little longer.\n\nSo she walks back over to the register and smiles at him.\n\n\"Sorry, Mr. Stetson,\" she says. \"It's not ready yet. A few more minutes, if you want to wait around.\"\n\nLinus surveys the area surrounding the pharmacy counter, pausing with his eyes on the chair attached to the blood pressure machine near the back wall.\n\n\"I'll just wait here?\" he says, curling his voice at the end so it's a question.\n\n\"Sure,\" Lauren says.\n\nLinus takes a seat and Lauren picks up the issue of _US Weekly_ she was staring at earlier, flipping through it. It's maybe 30 seconds later that she hears someone clear their throat and glances up to catch Linus watching her with a sly grin on his face.\n\n\"You were making fun of me,\" he says. \"Weren't you?\"\n\nLauren has no idea what he's talking about so she frowns, turning her head to the side. Linus chuckles, shifting in his seat.\n\n\"My name,\" he says. \"You were mocking my name.\"\n\n\"No I wasn't,\" Lauren says, though she can feel her face turning red. She smiles shyly, looking away. \"Not really.\"\n\n\"I didn't name myself you know.\"\n\n\"I'm sure of it,\" Lauren says. \"Nothing wrong with yours either way. It just made me think of Peanuts.\"\n\n\"Peanuts?\" he says, raising an eyebrow.\n\n\"The comic strip.\"\n\nStill nothing.\n\n\"Charles Schultz?\" she says, and when he still looks confused she sighs. \"Charlie Brown, Snoopy. Linus is the kid with the blanket.\"\n\n\"Ohhh,\" he says, nodding. Lauren studies him for a second—taking in his strong jaw line and slicked back hair—before returning to the magazine.\n\n\"You been working here long?\" he asks.\n\nLauren notices right then the discomfort rising in her and tries to push it down. She knew—consciously or subconsciously, doesn't really matter, she just knew somewhere—that Linus was going to end up hitting on her. Most women know things like this, not so much when they're younger but definitely as age and experience start to accumulate. It's in the way guys walk when they see a girl they're attracted to. The changeup actually; a different swagger that isn't exactly the same in every man but is discernible from plain ordinary walking.\n\nLinus paused before approaching the counter, checked Lauren out, then avoided her eyes until now. Sure indicator.\n\nBut the fact that she's feeling the familiar discomfort associated with being hit on as a married woman—the feeling she's gotten quite used to over the past few years—is disconcerting considering the circumstances. It's so deeply ingrained in her that she can't seem to bypass it, even by replaying in her mind what she just witnessed Rick and Natalie doing not even two hours ago.\n\nThe image isn't doing anything but turning her stomach in knots, making her not want to talk to Linus at _all_.\n\nLauren realizes right then that the prospect of being single—of recent events leading to a divorce and her being a single mother with child support checks and the like—scares her to death. Dating itself is such a frightening, vulnerable time period, no matter what the circumstances. It sucks, really. She doesn't want to go through all that again.\n\n\"You okay?\" Linus says.\n\n\"Yeah,\" Lauren says quickly. \"Uh...what were you saying?\"\n\n\"I asked how long you've been working here,\" he says.\n\n\"Oh,\" she says, shrugging. \"A while. Not too long. Couple of—you know.\"\n\nHe nods, giving her a sideways glance.\n\n\"That long, huh?\" he says.\n\nLauren smiles, though she suddenly wants Jared to finish his long ass smoke break and come back to his post at the register _now_ so she can return to her job in the background, bagging pills and avoiding the general public.\n\n\"A while,\" she says. \"Since college.\"\n\n\"College,\" he says, nodding. \"How long ago was that?\"\n\n\"College?\"\n\nLinus nods and Lauren shrugs.\n\n\"Couple of years now.\"\n\n\"For a pharmacist, you sure aren't into specifics.\"\n\n\"I'm not a pharmacist,\" she says, pointing at him. \"Pharmacy _technician_.\"\n\n\"Isn't that the same thing?\"\n\n\"Not even close,\" Lauren says.\n\n\"What's the difference?\"\n\n\"About six years of schooling and forty thousand in pay,\" she says.\n\nLinus chuckles and Lauren smiles at the sound, pleasant and masculine. She feels a little more relaxed, but still a little uncomfortable. So familiar, this feeling. The flirtation, the breaking down of barriers, layer by layer.\n\nCan she actually do _this_ again? Go through this process over and over until she meets another Rick? Because, really—what else is there? Lauren and Rick were best friends before they became lovers, which is the supposed dream start to a relationship everybody's always raving about. If that doesn't work out, what else really is there? Sleeping with a complete stranger? Being single the rest of her life? Both sound equally horrible.\n\n\"So,\" Linus says, rubbing his hands together. \"This is what you went to school for? Pharmacy stuff?\"\n\n\"No,\" she says, then chuckles. \"Actually, I was a literature major.\"\n\nLinus's eyebrows rise slowly.\n\n\"Really? Literature?\" He glances up at the ceiling, as if he just realized where he is. \"How does a lit major end up here?\"\n\n\"How?\" Lauren says, trying to hide the contempt that threatens to pop into her voice. \"She gets pregnant, withdraws from school and finds a job so that she can support herself and her son.\"\n\nLinus's face drops.\n\n\"I'm sorry,\" he says.\n\n\"Don't be,\" Lauren says, shaking her head, suddenly in a confrontational mood. \"Why should you be?\"\n\n\"I don't know,\" he says, shrugging. \"Sounds like a sore subject.\"\n\n\"No, I didn't mean it like that,\" she says, picturing Justin. \"I love my son to death. Definitely more than I loved college.\"\n\nThere's a brief moment of silence after this revelation, during which Linus goes back to avoiding Lauren's eyes. She's thinking that she blew it—she remembers being a lot better at the single thing pre-Rick—and is resigning herself to reading _US Weekly_ again when Linus clears his throat one more time and she looks back up at him.\n\n\"You going back?\" he asks.\n\n\"Where?\"\n\n\"College,\" he says. \"You plan on going back?\"\n\nAnd before she can think of a proper answer, she blurts out the first thing that comes to mind:\n\n\"Why would I?\"\n\n\"To finish your degree,\" he says.\n\n\"Yeah, I get it,\" she says. \"But—why?\"\n\n\"To get a better job?\"\n\n\"I'm okay with this one,\" she says.\n\n\"Yeah,\" he says, shifting in his seat again. \"But—I don't know. Can't you make more money?\"\n\n\"Linus,\" she says, leveling her eyes at him. \"I was an English major.\"\n\nAnother pause.\n\n\"Well,\" he says, scratching his head. \"I don't know then.\"\n\nAnd suddenly, the whole situation is too much. Lauren feels it rising and, before she can stop herself, she bursts out laughing. Linus laughs a moment later, and soon they're both stifling hysterics. And it feels good, all thirty seconds of it. To share a laugh with somebody about a subject she hasn't ever really seen much humor in.\n\nIn the midst of it, Steve walks up with a tray of filled prescriptions, pausing to stare at Lauren and Linus. Lauren stops laughing abruptly, though there's still a smile on her face as she grabs Linus's prescription and Steve goes back to his post. Lauren rings it up, noticing his prescription is for Nexium, used to treat gastroesophageal reflux disease, also known as GERD or acid-reflux. She knows this because Rick takes the same medication. It causes her to pause for a second as she hands Linus the bag and his receipt, just long enough for Linus's eyes to drift to her hand.\n\n\"Oh,\" he says.\n\n\"What?\" she asks.\n\n\"Nice ring,\" he says, nodding towards her ring finger. \"How long you been married?\"\n\nLauren flexes it, touching the band as if it just appeared out of nowhere.\n\n\"Yeah,\" she says quietly. \"Couple of years.\" And she's unable to muster any sort of emotion into the response. Not anger, not affection, nothing. No further explanation either.\n\nLinus stands there for a moment then picks up his prescription bag, crumpling the corners in his palm.\n\n\"Lucky guy,\" he says, smiling.\n\nLauren smiles back, but stays quiet, so Linus pats the counter once and turns, walking towards the front of the store and then out the door. Lauren opens her mouth to call him back a total of three times before he disappears, then she just sits there staring at nothing. Jared comes back from his break a moment later and Lauren heads back to her stool next to Steve, who watches her intently. When she notices from the corner of her eye she looks at him.\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Nothing,\" he says, then stops fiddling with his computer and turns to face her fully. \"Are you _sure_ you're okay?\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" she says, grabbing a prescription bag and nodding, utterly dismayed to find herself fighting back tears.\n\nstep three: support\n\n-8-\n\n\"I'm so fucking tired of this shit,\" Marcus says.\n\n\"Tell me about it,\" Sean mutters, turning the corner onto Richmond Drive.\n\nThere's a moment of silence and Sean peeks over at his brother who's watching him with a curious expression.\n\n\"I mean,\" Sean says, shrugging. \"Whatever.\"\n\n\"Right,\" Marcus says, shaking his head and turning to look out the window.\n\nThey make another right onto Galloway, the main road leading to their parents' house in Pinecrest. Sean glances at Marcus again, studying him sitting in the passenger seat, book bag lying across his lap like a blanket, t-shirt sticking to his skinny-but-muscular frame. On the shirt, Bob Marley's smoking a joint the size of Sean's arm, and he wonders if that's what got Marcus suspended. But his brother's smarter than that. Even if he seems to be trying as hard as he can not to act like it.\n\nSometime in the past couple of years, Marcus managed to switch from the hyperactive, enthusiastic, annoying adolescent he used to be, into the prototypical angry teenage fuckhead that he is right now; straight out of a Hot Topic catalog, complete with the chain-link hanging from his skinny jeans' waist, a closet full of band t-shirts and a collection of multi-genre I-hate-everybody music that puts Sean's own iTunes library to shame.\n\nAbout a year ago, Marcus caught their parents in a moment when they weren't really paying attention to what he was saying (that's the only way Sean can see it playing out) and managed to convince them to let him gauge his ear (for the uninitiated, gauging is basically the same thing as getting earrings, only replace the earring itself with a cork-like apparatus that stretches the hole in your ear to the point that you can stick a finger through it. Or two, or three. They smell like shit too). Their mother told Marcus to get the smallest one he could, which he did. For about a week. At which point he promptly moved up two sizes and got one of his friends at school to add in two studs on the top of each earlobe and an eyebrow ring and he _claims_ he's getting a nose ring next and Sean swears his brother's going to look like a can opener soon if he keeps this shit up. On the very few occasions Sean comes over to the house to hang out, he always catches his mom glaring at Marcus like she wants to rip the piercings out with their dad's pliers. It all gives Marcus this sort of crazy S&M look, but he can pretty much pull off anything he wants, which is one of the many differences between them.\n\nSean wants to say something to get Marcus talking, but he looks like he's about to murder a puppy or something. If he scowls any harder, his eyebrows and lips are going to touch.\n\n\"You look pissed,\" Sean says.\n\n\"Fuck 'em. Fuck everybody. Everything. I'm tired of this shit. I just want to get the fuck out of here.\"\n\n\"Out of where?\" Sean asks.\n\nMarcus throws his hands around the car.\n\n\"Here,\" he yells.\n\n\"My car?\" Sean says. \"You're the one who asked me to pick you up.\"\n\n\"No, asshole,\" he says. \"Miami.\"\n\n\"Gonna be kind of hard if you keep getting suspended.\"\n\n\"I didn't do anything,\" he mutters. \"Was just minding my own business.\"\n\n\"I think they stopped punishing people for minding their own business,\" Sean says. \"For a while now, actually. Been—a couple of decades, at least.\"\n\n\"All I did,\" Marcus starts, pointing at Sean as he talks, \"was expose the huge flaw that is today's education system. If they don't want people like me to take advantage of their loopholes, then they need to look at themselves and realize their inner workings are seriously defective.\" He takes a deep breath before continuing. \"These imperialistic institutions aren't preparing us for anything but disappointment with their... _lackadaisical_ approach to security and freedom. All they care about is order and conformity, and it's pathetic.\"\n\nSean ponders that for a moment, wondering if he and this kid are actually related.\n\n\"Preach on, brother,\" he says.\n\n\"Fuck you,\" Marcus says. \"Fuck them, fuck it all to fucking fuckville.\"\n\nSean's brother in a nutshell: raging bag of hormones, revolutionary-speak, and profanity. The teenage Che Guevara with Tourette's.\n\n\"I'm still lost as to why you're even here right now,\" Sean says.\n\n\"I just told you.\"\n\n\"Really?\" Sean asks. \"I'm sorry, I guess I wasn't paying attention then. I missed the part where you told me why you just got suspended for the third time this year.\"\n\n\"God,\" he says, turning and looking out the window again. \"You sound just like Mom and Dad.\"\n\nThe thought makes Sean shiver.\n\n\"Fine,\" he says. \"I won't judge you. I'm just saying, if you want out of here, you might want to straighten up.\"\n\n\"I didn't do anything wrong.\"\n\n\"I'm one hundred percent sure Mom and Dad are going to disagree.\"\n\n\"Mom will be over it by time I get home,\" he says, then sighs the world-weary sigh only teenagers and old people can get away with. \"Dad's another story. He's going to throw a shit fit.\"\n\n\"Which leads me to ask, once again,\" Sean says. \"What the hell did you do?\"\n\n\"Took some blank hall passes,\" he mumbles.\n\n\"You took blank hall passes?\"\n\nHe nods.\n\n\"And they suspended you for that?\" Sean says. \"How long?\"\n\n\"Two weeks.\"\n\n\"You got _two weeks_ suspension for stealing hall passes?\"\n\n\"From the storage closet,\" he adds. \"And a signature stamp from Cohen.\"\n\nSean remembers Cohen. James Cohen to be exact, P.E. teacher and football coach; a tall, perpetually sunburned man in his early fifties with a loud, raspy voice who walks permanently hunched over like somebody shoved a metal rod up his ass then bent the shit out of it. Sean thought Coach Cohen had retired already, but he obviously hasn't gotten tired of scaring the shit out of people's children.\n\n\"You stole hall passes and a signature stamp?\"\n\n\"Can you stop repeating everything I say in the form of a question?\" he says, giving Sean a shot of his scowl. \"It's really annoying.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry,\" Sean says. \"I'm just trying to get this straight. You stole some blank hall passes and a stamp to validate them.\" Sean considers that for a second. \"I get the appeal, and why Lawson would be pissed.\" He glances at Marcus. \"But two weeks' _outdoor_ suspension seems kinda...\"\n\n\"Excessive?\" Marcus says.\n\nSean nods. Marcus rubs his palms against his legs.\n\n\"I stole them three months ago,\" he says.\n\nSean should've known it would be like this. Getting Marcus to tell you an entire story is like pulling teeth. Out of a lion's mouth. While he's awake and not sedated.\n\n\"Ok,\" Sean says, trying to find some redeeming quality in the admission. \"That was three months ago. Why punish you now?\"\n\n\"I've been selling them.\"\n\n\"You've been selling stolen hall passes?\" Sean yells.\n\n\"You're doing it again,\" Marcus yells back.\n\n\"Marcus,\" Sean says, throwing his hands up. The car swerves and he grabs the steering wheel and groans loudly. \"Can you just come out and say it then?\"\n\n\"I stole a bunch of hall passes, stamped them, and sold them, okay?\" he yells, then twitches around in his seat angrily for a moment before settling back down in his original position with his arms crossed.\n\nSean lets that sit for a moment, then clears his throat.\n\n\"How much is 'a bunch'?\" he asks.\n\n\"I don't know,\" Marcus grumbles. \"A box of them. Like three hundred or something.\"\n\n\"Three hundred,\" Sean says, nodding. \"How many did you actually sell?\"\n\n\"I don't know,\" Marcus says, shrugging. \"Most of them. People came by my locker between classes to put in orders, five dollars per pass.\" There's pride in his voice when he says that last part. Marcus, the young entrepreneur. The math on that says he's made over a thousand dollars from this scheme. Sean can't help but admire the little bastard.\n\n\"You're right,\" Sean says, shaking his head. \"Dad is going to throw a shit fit.\"\n\nThey drive in silence for a while through the back streets near Sideview High, and eventually Sean just turns the radio up, nodding his head to some new Flo Rida song as they pass upper-middle-class house after upper-middle-class house in the Pinecrest area.\n\nMiami is sectioned like this: mini-cities in the larger city itself. When people who aren't from Miami ask Sean where he's from, he says Miami and leaves it at that. But people _from_ Miami always follow up with \"which part.\" Anybody from around here knows that \"which part\" tells a lot about you. People from Little Havana (Northern Cuba) are way different than people from Homestead (Nascar's got a track down there, and up until a decade or so ago it was mostly farmland, so you get the picture), who are a shit ton different than people from Little Haiti (self explanatory) or Kendall (People who want to look like they have money even though they typically don't have any and receive a pile of credit card bills every month) or even _West_ Kendall (People who want to live in Miami but came into the housing market too late to get anything near the main part of the city). So, pretty much, living in Miami is like living in a mini-continent. Sean thought this was all normal until he left for FSU, got to Tallahassee and realized America is America and Miami is...some other shit.\n\nSean's parents and Marcus live in Pinecrest, one of the more affluent areas in South Miami, even though the prestige comes with its own brand of annoyance. Pinecrest has its own private police department, complete with gray cars (as opposed to the white and green vehicles issues to Miami Dade's _real_ Police Department) and, from what Sean can tell, Pinecrest cops' jobs pretty much consist of hiding around corners and trees and bushes with radar guns, pulling people over for going half a mile over the speed limit.\n\nSean sets his cruise control at exactly thirty-miles-per-hour and leans back, watching the trees that shade each front yard pass lazily by. He's about five blocks away from his parents' house when he glances at Marcus and sees every muscle in his brother's body tense with apprehension. There's a thin layer of sweat on his forehead, and Sean's about to ask him what's wrong when he realizes he knows what's wrong: he's taking Marcus home. Dropping him off at one o'clock, so Marcus can wait the three hours for their parents to come home and bitch him out. Which sounds like hell to Sean. So he slows down and makes a u-turn, headed back South to Cutler Bay, towards his job and the mall.\n\nMarcus doesn't say anything, but Sean can see his body relax and the tension in the car lifts a little, Marcus's shoulders loosening up as he leans back into the passenger seat. Sean feels this small wrenching in his gut when he looks at his brother. As much as he doesn't want to, he understands why Marcus stole the hall passes. For high school students, popularity's a valuable commodity, arguably more influential than money itself, and operating under the same dynamics: hard to obtain, easy as shit to lose. To Sean it seems like trying to be popular in high school is kind of like trying to pay off the national debt with a summer job at Wal-Mart: you're not going to get anywhere unless you start stealing some shit and screwing people over.\n\nSean tries to remember what it was like for him in high school, if he ever tried to get up there in the popularity rankings. All he sees though is himself lying on the bed in his old room at his parents' house, staring at the ceiling and wondering if he'd survive long enough to get out of here, the same \"here\" his brother wants to get out of.\n\nSean doesn't think that's something he should share with Marcus though, him being all young and impressionable and shit. They come to a red light and Sean clears his throat, turns the radio down.\n\n\"You know,\" he says, searching for something inspirational. He's got nothing though, so he just says, \"It doesn't have to be like this.\"\n\n\"What doesn't?\" Marcus asks, eyes closed.\n\n\"High school,\" he says. \"It can actually be more fun than not.\"\n\nMarcus turns his intense, hazel eyes on Sean, staring until Sean looks away sheepishly, remembering how he couldn't make eye contact with Derek last night either. Marcus's jaw line's got peach fuzz around the edges, his hair cut so short it's sticking straight up like a baby bird. It's weird whenever Sean sees him up this close, because they look almost exactly like each other, a weird combo of their mom's thin nose (Mom's British, transplanted to the U.S. as a teenager in the 70's) and their dad's wide mouth (Dad's Jamaican, also transplanted to the U.S. as a teenager in the 70's) and pretty much right in the middle of their polar opposite skin tones.\n\n\"Was it more fun than not for you?\" Marcus asks.\n\nAnd the way he says it, Sean can't tell if his brother's being sarcastic or not, so he pauses. Marcus catches the hesitation and chuckles, looking out the window.\n\n\"Thought so,\" he says.\n\nSean wants to say something back but the light turns green so he uses driving as an excuse to drop the subject, weaving through the back streets at the edge of Pinecrest, into Cutler Bay and out to US-1 towards Southland Mall.\n\n-9-\n\nCalling Caitlyn—cursing at her voicemail then hanging up and trying again—Lauren doesn't notice she's driving to Rick's job until she's sitting outside, staring up at the large \"Kendall Toyota\" sign out front. And, as luck would have it, the moment she does notice is when Caitlyn decides to answer the phone.\n\n\"What the fuck, Lauren?\" she hisses, her voice low. \"I'm at work.\"\n\n\"What time do you get off?\" Lauren asks, her voice monotone.\n\n\"In like an hour,\" she says. \"What's wrong?\"\n\n\"Can we meet after?\" Lauren asks.\n\nCaitlyn pauses for a moment, and Lauren's afraid for a second that her sister's going to decline.\n\n\"Sure,\" Caitlyn says finally. \"What's wrong though?\"\n\n\"I'll tell you later,\" she says quietly. \"Meet me at Shambles when you get out.\"\n\nLauren hangs up and sits for a moment, closing her eyes and taking deep breaths and waiting for her heart to slow down before she steps out of the car. Looking up at the building, she barely sees the words \"Kendall\" or \"Toyota\" anymore. All she sees is Rick. This place reeks of him, just embodies his very essence, from the cars displayed out front to the posters inside of mechanics working in factories.\n\nRick's worked here since his sophomore year in college, originally as a mechanic's apprentice with the intention of branching out and opening his own shop. That never happened, but he eventually became a full mechanic and works now in the maintenance bay doing engine work on pre-owned certified whatevers.\n\nLauren gets a head start in the parking lot, so she's already full steam by time she reaches the main showroom. The receptionist frowns and purses her lips when Lauren storms past her towards the maintenance bay. Inside, she looks around for just a second before she sees Rick's familiar head of shaggy blonde hair and approaches him.\n\nRick turns when Lauren's about five feet away and his eyes light up, his face breaking into a smile. The sight of him makes her queasy.\n\n\"Babe,\" he says, wiping his greasy hands with a towel, his face streaked with sweat. His jumpsuit is taut against his slight paunch, and the way he's standing with his back arched so that his pelvis is thrust forward makes him look like his name should be Earl or something. It's not that he's gotten fat, he's just out of shape, soft in places where he used to be rock hard. Lauren takes comfort in this as she stares daggers into his forehead.\n\n\"Hi, Rick,\" she says curtly. Rick's smile drops.\n\n\"What's wrong?\" he asks.\n\n\"We need to talk,\" she says. A few of the mechanics are chuckling and joking around with each other while others peer into the engines of various Toyotas and Lexuses and Scion. None of them seem to notice Lauren's even there, much less how upset she is. Or maybe they do and they just don't care. \"Right now,\" she adds.\n\n\"Yeah, but,\" he pauses, glancing back at the car behind him. \"I'm kind of busy. Can it wait until I get home?\"\n\nGod she wants to hit him.\n\n\"No.\"\n\nRick opens his mouth to protest but must see something in Lauren's face that stops him. His pupils dilate and she wonders if he's thinking about Natalie at this moment, if he can see what's coming his way.\n\n\"Okay,\" he says. \"Give me a minute.\" He points at a door near the side of the garage, a window next to it looking into a small room with a desk and another door on the other side leading out to the main dealership floor. \"Go in Mike's office. He's gone for the day.\"\n\nMike is Rick's boss, a six-foot-tall, sixty-year-old head mechanic with pitch black skin who talks like he always has food in his mouth and shows Lauren pictures of his grandchildren every time she comes to visit. She likes Mike and wishes she didn't have to confront Rick in his office.\n\nLauren walks in and sits in a chair across from the desk, fiddling with her purse. Seconds later she notices that her foot is shaking so much it's like her leg is having a seizure. She readjusts herself and waits. Rick comes in two minutes later and pulls a rolling chair around the desk, sitting in it backwards and facing her.\n\n\"Okay,\" he says. \"What happened?\"\n\nLauren doesn't know if it's the time she was in here by herself or what, but she's suddenly lost for words. She knows what she came over here to confront Rick about, obviously. And she was all set to do it when she saw him out in the maintenance bay with the other mechanics standing around and the knowledge in her head that accusing Rick of fucking another woman in front of them would embarrass the shit out of him. But here, by themselves, it's more of a personal issue. It's something strictly between him and her. And she doesn't want anything personal with Rick right now.\n\n\"Never mind,\" she says, standing to leave. Rick grabs her hand and it takes everything for her not to throw it off.\n\n\"Babe,\" he says, chuckling. \"What the hell? What's wrong with you?\"\n\n\"I'm leaving,\" she blurts out, shaking her head. \"For a little while. Couple of days at least. And I'm taking Justin.\"\n\nRick's mouth drops open and he lets go of her hand, his eyelids fluttering. His greasy forehead actually brings out the blue in his eyes, which does nothing to help Lauren's conviction. She continues to shake her head as if it will give her strength.\n\n\"I'm going to stay with my mother,\" she continues. \"Maybe a couple of weeks, or with Caitlyn maybe, I don't know yet. I don't know what—I'm just leaving.\"\n\nLauren's breathing hard now, the sound of her inhalations and exhalations the only sound in the room for a moment.\n\n\"You're,\" Rick says, pausing. \"Leaving?\"\n\n\"Yes, Rick.\"\n\n\"Like— _leaving_ leaving?\"\n\nLauren groans.\n\n\"But,\" he says, the confusion in his voice giving way to fear, making him sound like a little boy. \"But, why?\"\n\n\"You know why, Rick,\" she says.\n\nWhich gets a contemptuous bark of laughter out of him.\n\n\"No, actually, Lauren. I have no fucking clue what the hell is going on right now.\"\n\nHe's good, Lauren has to admit. For a second, she wonders if she's making a mistake. Maybe she walked into somebody else's apartment earlier this afternoon. Or maybe it was her place, and maybe Natalie was fucking somebody else in her son's room. Maybe—\n\nLauren squeezes her eyes shut until the cloudiness goes away. She's not crazy. She knows what she saw. When she opens her eyes again, everything's clear. She smiles at Rick and her heart quickens pace, her stomach, nose and lips going numb.\n\nAnger. Pure, unadulterated anger. It's the strongest the emotion's hit her since she walked in on Rick and Natalie, and it sure beats being sad. She forgot how empowering rage like this can be.\n\n\"You're telling me you have no clue why your wife would come to your job and tell you that she's leaving?\" Lauren cocks her head to the side. \"No clue at all? I'll give you two guesses.\"\n\n\"Seriously, babe,\" Rick says, smiling. And she wants to punch him in the face. Right between the eyes. She wants to aim for the bridge of his nose and punch him there with every ounce of strength in her body, so it hurts him for weeks afterwards. \"I really don't know what's going on,\" he says. \"But if you just calm down, we can talk about it _rationally_. I'm sure there's an explanation for whatever's going on.\"\n\nAnd Lauren opens her mouth right then with the intention of lying to him and telling him she had sex with somebody else too. The idea just pops into her head and takes hold, and for a moment she can even see it actually happening. She sees herself kissing the guy at her job earlier, Linus, going back to his place and making out in the living room before moving to his room, leaving a stream of clothes in their wake. She sees this, and she wants to tell Rick about it, in detail. That is her _full_ intention when she opens her mouth, some instinctual urge to hurt him like he's hurting her. But the moment she imagines herself in somebody else's bed, her anger loses steam and she only lets out a slight whimper. Plopping back into the chair, she drops her head, a lump rising in her throat. She bites her tongue, swallowing thickly.\n\n\"I saw you,\" she whispers.\n\n\"What?\" Rick says. Then, noticing her expression, he gets up from his chair and crouches in front of her, so his face is level with hers and about a foot away. This is a bad move on his part, especially when he says: \"Babe, saw me what?\"\n\n\"Don't 'babe' me,\" she yells, jumping up. \"I saw you!\"\n\n\"Saw me _what_?\" he yells back. \"Saw me _where_?\"\n\n\"With Natalie!\" Lauren laughs, and the gesture hurts her face. \"In Justin's fucking _room_. Where the hell else, Rick?\"\n\nThere's silence for a minute, Rick standing there shuffling his feet as Lauren turns away, looking out the office window out into the mechanics' bay. A few of Rick's coworkers crane their necks to see her and Rick in the office, and suddenly she has the audience she wanted when she came in.\n\n\"She's eighteen,\" she spits. \" _Barely_ even eighteen. And she's our son's _babysitter_.\"\n\nRicks mouth hanging open, there's this little clicking noise coming from the back of his throat as his mind works for an excuse, like his whole body's had a system crash and is rebooting to come at this all again.\n\n\"I—\" he starts.\n\n\"I trusted you,\" Lauren says. \"I trusted her. With my _family._ \"\n\n\"Lauren—\"\n\n\"How long?\" she asks.\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"How long, Rick.\"\n\nRick stutters and shrugs and Lauren laughs.\n\n\"Don't act like you don't know,\" she says. \"You're the numbers guy, remember? Never forgets a date? Always knows how much money's in your pocket? So goddamn _sweet_ with all your anniversaries and Mother's Days and all that _bullshit_!\" Lauren laughs again—cackles, actually—and even she has to admit she sounds crazy. But she can't stop herself.\n\n\"Three months,\" he says quietly, to the floor. He raises his head slowly until his eyes meet hers, then his face sort of deteriorates into this grotesque contortion. \"Babe, I'm so sorry. I don't even know how it started, and I've been trying to end it for\"—he looks away, deep in his head—\"Forever now, it seems.\"\n\n\"Three months,\" Lauren says, nodding. \"Three months. Natalie turned eighteen two months ago.\"\n\n\"I know,\" he whispers.\n\n\"I could have you arrested,\" she says quietly. \"I should.\"\n\n\"What?\" Rick says, his head snapping up, mouth dropping open.\n\n\"Ar-rest-ed,\" she repeats, pronouncing each syllable slowly. \"Statutory rape? Natalie's mom could press charges and have you thrown in jail. And for what? For some young pussy? With a girl barely out of high school?\"\n\n\"Laur—\"\n\n\"Was it worth it?\"\n\n\"Come on, Lauren.\"\n\n\"Was it worth it!\" Lauren screams, then drops her voice to a whisper. \"You're a pervert. You're disgusting. She's a child, and she's your son's babysitter.\"\n\n\"She's eighteen, first of all,\" he snaps.\n\nLauren takes a step back, putting a hand to her chest.\n\n\"Are you actually getting _mad_ at me?\"\n\n\"I know this is fucked up, Lauren,\" he says, holding up a hand. \"But acting like this isn't going to fix shit. We need to talk about this rationally.\"\n\n\"Rationally?\" she shrieks. \"You cheated on me! With a minor! Last time I checked, that's grounds for divorce _and_ felony charges.\" Lauren turns around and puts a hand to her forehead. \"God, I feel so stupid. I married a rapist.\"\n\n\"I didn't rape anybody,\" he yells.\n\n\"Statutory rape is still rape.\"\n\n\"It wasn't statutory rape either,\" he says. \"Can you stop saying that?\"\n\n\"How the hell do you figure?\" Lauren says, turning on him with fists clenched.\n\nIt's pretty weird to watch somebody talking themselves deeper into a hole, especially when you can see in their eyes this little light of thought that you know is an internal voice screaming for them to shut up, even as their mouth keeps opening and closing and the tongue keeps forming syllable after syllable. This is what happens to Rick right now. Lauren can see it in his face, which does nothing to lessen the effect.\n\n\"It's not illegal,\" he says. \"Not in Florida. If both people are over sixteen and under twenty-four it's consensual.\" He pauses for a second before continuing, \"I didn't look it up. I mean, I did, but not because of Natalie. It was back at FIU. Mel—you remember Mel, right? Gel Mel, with that hair thing and the sister, Patty—you used to hang with her sometimes, right? Yeah, um, he messed around with some high school girl on his twenty-first and was freaking out so we all looked up the law and found out that there's this age of consent thing. It's the only reason I know, I swear.\"\n\nRick finally shuts up when he sees Lauren's face then looks away, playing with his fingers like a reprimanded child. From the corner of her eye, Lauren can see about five mechanics whispering to each other and staring in the window. She turns and stares at each and every one of them, meeting their eyes one by one. Then she takes a step towards Rick, cocks a hand back and strikes her open palm against his face as hard as she can.\n\nThe blow rocks him, knocking him into the desk, his knee bouncing off the wood frame. He curses loudly and grabs his leg with one hand, his other hand rushing up to his cheek which is already starting to show an angry red palm print.\n\n\"Fuck you,\" Lauren says, spit flying from her lips. She wants to add something else but can't think of anything so she storms out of the office and into the maintenance garage, past Rick's stunned coworkers. She's almost outside when she realizes that she parked on the other end of the dealership and makes her way back into the office where Rick is still holding his cheek. He flinches when she walks in and past him, out the door onto the dealership's main floor room and towards her car.\n\n-10-\n\nMarcus sits across from Sean in the Starbucks at Southland mall, both of them sipping Grande Caramel Frappuccinos and people-watching. At 2 pm, the mall's pretty dead, mostly people Sean's age walking aimlessly with friends or girlfriends or boyfriends, glancing in windows with that _I wish I could afford this shit_ look on their faces.\n\nMarcus takes a sip of his drink and glances at his brother.\n\n\"I'm just starting to wonder what's the point of all this,\" he says.\n\nSean looks at him blankly. It's the first thing Marcus has said since they walked into the mall.\n\n\"Excuse me?\"\n\n\"The point of it all,\" he repeats, as if he's talking to himself. He's studying a painting on the wall of an elephant with \"Kenya\" written above it. \"I just don't see the point.\"\n\nAnd it's at that moment Sean realizes something he's never noticed before: his brother's eyes have serious bags under them. Like, I-haven't-been-sleeping-well-for-a-long-time bags. And his shoulders have this slouch, not like a slouch in this moment but a practiced one, a slouch that's been settling up in his shoulders for a while now. And Sean swears he sees faint wrinkles at the corners of Marcus's mouth. Sean didn't notice it all before because he's so used to seeing the same things in his own mirror, but seeing it on Marcus now does something to him, makes him notice other stuff too. Marcus used to be so hyper when he was younger, like a miniature coke addict, just harassing the shit out of Sean and whoever he had over, be it Leon or Derek or whichever one of his high school friends came by the house to play video games and hang out. Now he looks like he's trying to slip through the cracks in the tiles. Part of this can be attributed to him being a teenager (those bipolar bastards), but this is more than that.\n\n\"You've got a really bright future, Marcus,\" Sean says, putting a hand on his brother's shoulder. Marcus looks at him. \"You know you do, I don't have to tell you that. You're going places, if you act right. You keep pulling this shit though and they're going to expel you, and then what?\"\n\n\"Exactly,\" he says. \"Then what? What does it matter?\"\n\n\"Didn't you just hear me?\" Sean says, a little annoyed. \"Bright future and all that?\"\n\n\"Yeah, but, what I'm saying is, who gives a shit about my 'bright future'?\"\n\n\"I do,\" Sean says. \"Mom and Dad do, though I know you think they don't.\"\n\n\"That's fine,\" Marcus says, shifting around in his seat so he's fully facing Sean. \"But who out _there_ cares?\" He points at the window, puts his drink down and shakes his head. \"What about after all of this? I mean, I'm supposed to bust my ass here to go to college, right? Then bust my ass in college to get a job then bust my ass at work until I retire and bust my ass to stay alive, and—I never really had a choice when I was born, huh? That's just, like, what I'm _supposed_ to do. And I just want to know, who really fucking cares?\" He scratches his head and looks at Sean from the corner of his eye, waiting for a response. Sean's got nothing though, so Marcus just sighs. \"No disrespect, dude, but you did the whole college thing and got your degree and now you're a fucking bartender and hate your life. Is that where I'm headed?\"\n\n\"I don't hate my life,\" Sean says weakly. Marcus presses his lips tight together and Sean looks at the floor.\n\n\"Mom and Dad did the college and career thing,\" Marcus says. \"And they act like they're happy. But they're just—I don't know. It's like they're going through the motions for our benefit or something. And even if they are actually happy, I just don't see myself following them. It's just so...boring.\" Sean looks up at him in time to see his eyes glaze over, his mind going back to some distant place. \"And Leon,\" he says quietly. \"He did it all and now he's dead. And people are going to eventually forget he ever existed.\" He looks at Sean and his eyes are moist. \"So I just want to know, seriously, what's the fucking point?\"\n\nAnd the feeling Sean gets right then is like being punched in the stomach with a sledgehammer. It takes all his strength not to double over in front of his brother. He forces his eyes closed and takes deep breaths until the feeling goes away. When he recovers, Marcus is back to staring at the Kenyan elephant and Sean tries to think of a sufficient response, something uplifting, but he can't because Marcus is right—which pisses Sean off—and also because Sean now knows why Marcus has looked so damn depressed for the past year, the underlying fork in the road that he couldn't pinpoint before. And it hurts Sean so much he can barely breathe.\n\nSean knew Leon since middle school, and Leon's house was always a bummer with his mom and dad going at each other like rabid dogs half the time, so Leon was always at Sean's place. Leon actually lived with them for a couple of months back in eleventh grade after his mom died and nobody could get in touch with his dad—who'd hit the road a year earlier (Sean used to think the guy was a douchebag, and still does a little. But after seeing how messed up he was at Leon's funeral, Sean's starting to think the saying \"there's two sides to every story\" is more true than he ever could have imagined. Leon's mom wasn't the easiest person to deal with). Leon's mom's younger brother eventually ended up moving down from Chicago to stay with Leon, and things got kind of cool after that. Leon's uncle was chill, and there was Derek completing the trio, so that last year of high school was fun.\n\nBut Marcus—he was so young to Sean back then that Sean never really figured him into the equation. It's not like they could talk to him about girls and losing their virginities and getting ready for college and all that when the kid was like ten. But they did talk. And Marcus was there, literally all the time. Perpetually in Sean's room, sitting in the corner throughout most of their time in high school, just waiting in the background with his eyes wide, listening, taking mental notes. And when he got to middle school and started seeing all the shit they'd been talking about, Sean and Leon gave him advice where they could—not like they were experts themselves, but they'd seen some shit by then at least.\n\nYet even with that history, it never occurred to Sean that Leon's death might have affected Marcus too. Listening to him now though—and looking back at those years in high school and college—Sean can't think of any way it _couldn't_ have affected him. Sean closes his eyes, tries to remember Leon's funeral, where Marcus was sitting, what his face looked like. He wants to say Marcus was teary-eyed but stoic, jaw-clenched, brave. But he can't be sure. His memory of that day's clouded in a haze of Xanax and alcohol.\n\nSuddenly, Sean smacks Marcus on the back and hops out of his seat. Marcus jumps, startled, and looks up at Sean as he nods towards the door and walks out. Marcus catches up a second later and they walk through the mall silently, pointing at things they want in store windows and grunting, weaving in and out of the thickening crowd of people.\n\nEventually they pass by a GameStop and Sean pauses to watch a group of kids playing tennis on a Nintendo Wii. They're jumping around with the controllers, flailing their arms in the air as if the tennis racquets are actually there. They look stupid. They also look like they're having a shitload of fun. Marcus smacks Sean back on his shoulders—hard—and Sean turns to him, raising his fist like he's going to punch him. Marcus leans back, laughing.\n\n\"Shit, man,\" he says. \"It's your birthday.\"\n\n\"That it is,\" Sean says, lowering his arm and turning back to GameStop. There's an ad for _Rock Band 3_ on display, a picture of the fake instruments the game comes with: guitar, bass, drums, keyboard, microphone. Sean thinks back to playing _Guitar Hero_ last night and how much fun he had, and he has to smile. Then he remembers trying to fight Derek, and his smile disappears.\n\n\"Happy birthday,\" Marcus says. \"I didn't get you anything.\"\n\n\"Don't worry about it.\"\n\n\"I'm not,\" he says. \"Taking care of it now. What do you want?\"\n\n\"Nothing,\" Sean says.\n\n\"Don't start with that shit,\" Marcus groans.\n\nSean looks at him from the corner of his eye and starts walking.\n\n\"Seriously,\" Marcus says from behind him. \"What do you want?\"\n\n\"Seriously,\" Sean says. \"Nothing. I'm too old for birthday presents.\"\n\n\"Bro, you're twenty-five.\"\n\n\"Thought that was old for you people,\" Sean says, smirking.\n\n\"You people?\"\n\n\"Your kind,\" Sean says, motioning in Marcus's direction. \"Teenagers.\"\n\n\"Nice,\" Marcus says, chuckling. The sound gives Sean an uncomfortably pleasant pang in his gut, and he wraps his arms around Marcus's neck, getting him in a weak headlock then lightly smacking his cheek and pushing him away. They keep walking through the mall, stopping in the food court when the smell reminds Sean that he hasn't eaten shit since he woke up. He buys a slice of pizza from Sbarro and gets Marcus an ice cream cone from Orange Julius, and for a second he actually feels like a good older brother.\n\n\"Seriously, Sean,\" Marcus says, licking his ice cream cone. \"What do you want for your birthday?\"\n\n\"Nothing,\" Sean says, frowning. \"What do I look like taking my seventeen year old brother's measly allowance.\" Sean shakes his head. \"I don't need anything.\"\n\n\"You forget,\" Marcus says, leering at him. Actually leering, creepily. He licks his ice cream cone again then reaches in his back pocket and pulls out a wad of bills, secured in a money clip. \"Up until today, I've been the official provider of Sideview High's legalized truancy.\"\n\nSean can't help laughing at that one.\n\n\"Straight up hustler,\" Sean says, shaking his head. \"Is that really a money clip?\"\n\n\"Chrome,\" Marcus says. \"Gotta keep the cash secure.\"\n\n\"I still don't want anything.\"\n\n\"I saw you staring at _Rock Band_ ,\" he says, then shrugs, his bottom lip jutting out in probably the weakest DeNiro impression Sean's ever seen. \"This, this I could do for you.\"\n\n\"You're an idiot,\" Sean says, pushing him. \"And no. Shit's like two hundred dollars.\"\n\n\"You're my brother,\" Marcus says.\n\nSean studies his face, sees that he's serious, and feels that same uncomfortable wrenching in his midsection; not as serious as before, but enough to make him stop smiling. He's getting sick of all this sentimental shit.\n\n\"You're not spending two hundred dollars on me,\" Sean says.\n\n\"You suck,\" Marcus says, genuinely disappointed.\n\nSean's still staring at Marcus when they walk by Guitar Center, and he turns his head at just the right moment—just as they're passing the window display—and his left foot freezes in midair. He stands unbalanced for a second before backpedaling and stopping in front of the glass.\n\nPeople throw around the word beautiful like a dirty rag doll, applying the label to shit that's really just cute at best. Half the time, whatever they're referring to is actually mediocre. There's only a couple of things on this planet Sean considers genuinely beautiful: the sky during a Miami summer afternoon, right before the storms hit, when it's gray and cool and windy and God hasn't yet sneezed on the entire city; that feeling he gets right after he's heard a new song he knows is going right to the top of his \"Current\" playlist on iTunes; and taking a really good, clean shit, the type where you feel like you lost five pounds and barely have to wipe after.\n\nAnd now: this guitar sitting in the window at Guitar Center.\n\nDark blue metallic finish, gleaming pick guard, that whammy thingy that they've got on the game controllers in _Guitar Hero_ that gets you more points when you wiggle it around. This thing is the definition of beauty, sitting there on its rack looking smug, the instrument version of a really hot chick walking through the mall in a mini-skirt knowing damn well what she's doing to every guy she passes. The strings running up the front look like lanes on a German autobahn, no speed limit just an open stretch for Sean to do whatever he wants, and he involuntarily whispers:\n\n\"I'd drive my fingers all over that thing.\"\n\n\"What?\" Marcus says.\n\nSean looks at him, startled.\n\n\"Nothing,\" he says, walking into the store and yelling, \"Come on.\"\n\nThe name on the sign in the display window says the guitar's an Ibanez GRX-20 and it's on sale for $150. Sean has no idea if $150 is a lot of money for a guitar. He doesn't know shit about guitars actually, other than what he's learned from _Guitar Hero_ (which is absolutely nothing except how to press buttons really fast). All he really knows for sure right now is that he wants that thing.\n\nThey walk past the guy up front standing just inside the theft detector and Sean thinks the guy's staring at him until he realizes he's just got a lazy eye and is actually staring at the computer in front of him.\n\n\"Welcome to Guitar Center,\" he says lazily. Sean doesn't respond, just walks past him towards the information desk in the back where this gothic looking chick's leaning against the counter popping gum in her mouth and flipping through a tattoo magazine. Sean pauses to look back at the display window guitar again, then looks at Marcus.\n\n\"I'm getting that,\" he says, pointing at it, glancing at the gothic chick and repeating to her, \"I want to get that.\"\n\nMarcus glances at the guitar, licking his ice cream cone.\n\n\"You know how to play?\" he asks.\n\n\"No.\"\n\nMarcus thinks about that for a second.\n\n\"You going to learn?\"\n\n\"If I'm buying a guitar then obviously I'm going to learn.\"\n\n\"Not necessarily,\" he says, and Sean opens his mouth to tell him that's stupid, then realizes it isn't.\n\n\"You think I shouldn't?\"\n\nMarcus looks at the guitar again, licks his ice cream cone again.\n\n\"You know,\" he says, shrugs. \"Shit.\"\n\nThat's all Sean needs. He turns back to gothic chick—her name's Wendy, and she's actually pretty hot when you look past the pitch black hair and makeup and those vampire mark tattoos on the side of her neck. Sean opens his mouth and starts talking and promptly proceeds to embarrass the shit out of himself. At first, he pretends he knows what he's talking about, until she gives him this look that says \"quit bullshitting me,\" at which point he pretty much breaks down and starts gushing over the Ibanez GRX-20 like a schoolgirl, which Wendy—a surprisingly shrewd salesperson—uses to take advantage of Sean in every way possible, convincing him to buy a bunch of shit he's pretty sure he doesn't actually need:\n\nBoss DS-1 distortion pedal (\"The thing that makes electric guitars sound really crazy and angry,\" Wendy says tiredly. \"Which is the effect I guess you're looking for if you're referencing...um... _Guitar Hero_.\").\n\nGuitar string cleaner\n\nTwo boxes of medium guitar picks\n\nBox of hard guitar picks (\"For when you get a little better,\" Wendy says. \"Then you can choose your preference\"—the way she made it sound, Sean got all excited and was about to ask her if there were any _expert_ level guitar picks for when he got _really_ good, but then he realized she was talking about the actual texture of the picks and felt really stupid).\n\nGuitar strap\n\nThree rolls of plugs and cords\n\nActual _Guitar-Hero_ -like whammy bar (sold separately, the thieving bastards), and\n\nMarshall MG10 Guitar Amplifier (to be honest, Sean didn't know that an electric guitar needed an amp. He thought you just plugged the damn thing into a wall and started strumming).\n\nIn the end, what started out as Sean coming in to the store to buy a $150 guitar turns into a shopping spree that ends up costing a little under $600 (Sean lets Marcus pay $100 of it just so he'll shut the hell up about the birthday thing), which is pretty much all his half of the rent. Which is due in a week.\n\n\"I'll pick up a couple of extra shifts at Shambles,\" he says out loud, to himself, as he and Marcus are loading all his purchases into the back of his car. Marcus looks at him from the other side.\n\n\"Huh?\"\n\n\"To make my money back,\" Sean elaborates.\n\n\"Ok,\" Marcus says, smirking. \"Uh...good for you?\"\n\n\"I just,\" Sean starts, then waves it off. \"Never mind.\"\n\nMarcus tosses the bags inside the car and slams the door as Sean stands on the other side and rests his brand new guitar on the backseat of his car like a baby whose diaper he's changing, then slips into the front seat. Marcus inhales the last bite of his ice cream cone and hops in the passenger seat, turning and touching all of Sean's new things with his sticky hands, which makes Sean want to punch him in the mouth.\n\n\"Don't touch that,\" he says. \"And why'd it take you half an hour to eat an ice cream cone?\"\n\n\"You judging me now?\" Marcus asks. \"I was enjoying the experience.\"\n\nSean adjusts his rearview mirror so it's pointing at his new guitar. Marcus notices and looks back at it again.\n\n\"You really going to play that thing?\" he asks.\n\nSean puts on a pair of sunglasses he got for five dollars at the gas station last week, turns to Marcus and shrugs nonchalantly. Marcus laughs and Sean turns up the radio and they both jam out to Korn and Linkin Park and Limp Bizkit and a bunch of other angry music in celebration of Sean's new purchase, both of them all smiles and hand claps until they pull into their parents' driveway and the mood shifts dramatically.\n\nMarcus sits holding his book bag against his chest, staring at the front door of the house like it's the gate to hell. And Sean can't blame him, especially when the door flies open and Mom steps outside with Dad close behind. Dad stops short in the doorway, but Mom walks up to Sean's side of the car with her arms crossed. He rolls the window down and she crouches, giving Marcus a murderous look before smiling at Sean.\n\n\"Hi, honey,\" she says, putting a hand to the side of Sean's face. \"Sorry about this,\" she adds, nodding at Marcus like he's a wart on Sean's face. And Sean notices from the corner of his eye that Marcus has opened his mouth to say something, so Sean flicks his head around and glares at him until he closes it.\n\n\"No problem, Ma,\" Sean says, still staring at Marcus. \"We talked. It's not as bad as it seems. Go easy on him.\"\n\n\"Uh huh,\" she says, glancing back at the house where Dad's still standing with his arms crossed tightly across his chest, his eyes closed to slits. Dad's a dark dude, not just his skin but all his features. Everything about him looks like it got removed and dragged over rocks before somebody strapped it back onto his skeleton. Along with the accessories—the tattoo of a cross on his bicep, the thin scar on the side of his neck (Sean's heard four different stories about where his dad got that scar—knife fight, bitten by a snake, mauled by a wild boar, stray bullet in a drive-by just barely nicking him—which only makes him think it was probably something stupid, like he fell on a stick when he was 12 or something), the way he's always walked with a limp like he injured himself in war or something, even though Sean knows for a fact his dad's never even driven _by_ a military base. And sure, the man's all \"upstanding citizen with moral values and rules and consequences and blah blah blah\" now, but Sean's pretty sure his dad used to be an angry teenage fuckhead too back in his day. Probably worse than Marcus and Sean had ever been, to land a chick like their mom. Because Sean admits, it had to have been the swagger that got their mom to settle with him.\n\nIt's not something Sean likes to think about too much, because then he's got to think about the pictures all around the house, of his mom and dad when they first met, their mom drop dead gorgeous with her thick brown hair puffed up, flawless features and a sly smile on her face, their dad next to her with an afro and a leather jacket and the same sly look on his face, as if they're conspiring together; pictures that make Sean think of his mom as one of those chicks who are attracted to bad boys. Which makes him think about the other stereotypes about those types of women that _nobody_ wants to associate with their own mother.\n\nSean turns to Marcus and motions for him to get out, whispering \"Good luck\" before turning back to their mom, who's staring in the backseat of the car.\n\n\"What's that about?\" she asks.\n\nSean glances back at the guitar and smiles.\n\n\"My new hobby,\" he says.\n\nShe smiles and touches his cheek again.\n\n\"You need to come by more often,\" she says. \"We don't get to see you enough. You're neglecting your family.\"\n\n\"I know, Ma,\" Sean says. \"I will. Gotta work a lot though.\"\n\nShe gives him a pouty look then smiles, pats his shoulder and steps back from the car. Sean waves to his dad, who nods in his direction then blows him a kiss—awkward—and steps to the side as Marcus brushes past him. Sean reverses out of the driveway and his mom waves. He honks then drives off, towards his job, the only thing really on his mind the new toy lying on the backseat.\n\n-11-\n\nThe bartender waves a hand in Lauren's face and she jumps, startled.\n\n\"Everything ok over here?\" he asks, and she looks down at her half-finished Long Island then forces a smile and nods. He smiles back and studies her for a moment then walks away and Lauren goes back to staring at the flat screen TV on the back wall of the bar, people milling about the restaurant around her, enjoying happy hour. Technically she's in the same boat as them: she just got off work and she's here, at Shambles Bar and Grill for happy hour. She's not in the slightest bit happy though, so she can't help feeling like she doesn't actually belong.\n\nAt the thought, Caitlyn walks in and sits at the bar stool next to her. Or, rather, that's what Lauren assumes she does. What it actually seems like to her though is that one second she's sitting alone, and the next Caitlyn's just...there. Holding a hand up and waving for the bartender to come make her a Cosmo.\n\nCaitlyn has this tendency to kind of breeze in and out of rooms, like a vampire or a gust of wind through an open door. She's already kissed Lauren on the cheek and gotten her drink before Lauren even really acknowledges her presence. By then, Lauren's unconsciously finished her Long Island and looks up in time to catch the bartender as he walks away from her, having dropped off another drink. She's feeling a little bit of a buzz, and this is Caitlyn—the girl who grew into a woman beside her, under the same roof, the woman who Lauren trusts with her life and her deepest darkest secrets even though she aggravates the hell out of her sometimes—so Lauren sees no problem in forfeiting all initial pleasantries and blurting out:\n\n\"So, I walked in on Rick and Natalie having sex this morning.\"\n\nA spurt of pink liquid flies in a perfect arc from Caitlyn's lips back into her glass and she chokes. Lauren pats her on the back until her light coughs subside and she turns to Lauren, her upper lip curled, eyes wide, face red, eyebrows raised comically.\n\n\"Excuse me?\"\n\n\"Please don't make me say it again,\" Lauren whispers.\n\n\"Who the fuck is Natalie?\"\n\n\"Justin's babysitter,\" Lauren says. \"You've met her. Dark hair. Nice body. Young.\" Lauren takes a long swallow of her drink. \"They were in Justin's bedroom.\"\n\nCaitlyn's lip curls a little higher, which Lauren thinks shouldn't be physically possible.\n\n\"He was _fucking_ her?\"\n\n\"To put it bluntly,\" Lauren says, nodding. \"Yes.\"\n\n\"Hold on,\" Caitlyn says, turning and picking up her martini glass. She throws her head back and downs the drink in one gulp, her wavy blond hair tossing back over her shoulders. A few men's heads turn towards her automatically, which—of course—Caitlyn doesn't notice. \"Let me get this straight. You come home—\"\n\nCaitlyn doesn't finish, pausing and staring at her empty glass with her mouth open. Lauren can tell she's working out the situation in her head, and she gives her sister a moment. Finally, Caitlyn looks up, eyes wide.\n\n\"In Justin's bedroom?\" she hisses.\n\n\"The facts aren't that complicated, Cate,\" Lauren says, then chuckles at the absurdity of it all. \"At least they weren't on the bed.\"\n\n\"Wait,\" Caitlyn says, holding up her hand and closing her eyes again, dramatically. \"I met this girl. She looked like a kid.\"\n\n\"She is.\"\n\n\"How old?\"\n\n\"Eighteen, now,\" Lauren says, knowing where this is going. \"Just turned eighteen two months ago. They've been going at it since July.\"\n\n\"Got him,\" she says, snapping her fingers and snatching her phone up from the bar. \"Fucking sex predator.\"\n\nLauren thinks back to Rick's little confession in his boss's office.\n\n\"It's not illegal,\" she says, trying and failing to hide the contempt in her voice.\n\n\"What the fuck are you talking about?\" she yells. An older couple turns and scowls at them from a booth a few feet away, and Lauren can't say she didn't expect this sort of reaction at some point. Caitlyn's adept at causing commotion even when she doesn't have a legitimate reason. She's got one now, so there's no stopping her. \"His balls should be handcuffed to a fucking wall,\" she says, cupping her hands as if she's actually holding a pair of testicles. \"With an overweight guy named Bubba making sweet, sweet love to his virgin asshole.\"\n\n\"Stop it, Caitlyn.\"\n\n\"Are you smoking crack, Lauren?\" she hisses. \"Why isn't the SWAT team storming your place right now?\"\n\n\"It's not illegal, Caitlyn,\" she repeats.\n\n\"I heard you the first time, Lauren,\" she says, patting Lauren's leg as if she's a child. \"But, you see, sis, it _is_. It is _very_ illegal. Last time I checked: under eighteen girl plus over eighteen guy equals Bubba getting laid.\"\n\n\"According to Rick, not in Florida,\" Lauren says, taking a sip of her drink which tastes even better than the last one. \"Sixteen is the age of consent.\"\n\n\"He _told_ you that?\" she says, then bursts out laughing.\n\n\"Glad you're entertained by all this,\" Lauren says, scowling.\n\n\"I'm sorry,\" she says, shaking her head. \"It's just...holy shit, this fucking hillbilly state we live in. Rick's got balls.\" Her face turns dark all of a sudden. \"Exactly why they should be forcibly removed.\"\n\n\"You've got a real thing with that, don't you? Some sort of castration complex?\"\n\n\"Seriously,\" Caitlyn says, waving her off. \"What are you doing about this? You can't just brush this under the rug like you always do.\"\n\n\"I don't brush things under the rug,\" Lauren says weakly.\n\n\"He needs to be punished,\" Caitlyn says, then her eyes light up. \"Does he have any money? I thought you told me his family was loaded. Get a _really_ good lawyer. Take him for everything.\"\n\n\"Caitlyn,\" Lauren says. \"Rick's a mechanic and I'm a pharmacy tech, and we have a son together.\"\n\n\"Well,\" Caitlyn says, slumping her shoulders. \"You've gotta do something.\"\n\n\"I am,\" Lauren says, pointing at her drink.\n\n\"Besides that,\" Caitlyn says, rolling her eyes.\n\n\"I'm leaving,\" Lauren says. \"Took Justin already. Staying with Mom for a while until I figure things out.\"\n\n\"Uh uh,\" Caitlyn says, shaking her head emphatically. \"Out of the question. You can stay with me.\"\n\n\"Which would be so much better, right?\" Lauren says, sarcastically.\n\n\"You're goddamn right. Mom is a fucking psychopath.\" She says this as if it's a matter of fact. For two people who are so much alike, Caitlyn and their mother find it very hard to get along. \"You don't need to be around her shit right now, Lauren, let me tell you. You can stay with me until you're ready to take action against this asshole.\"\n\n\"Thank you, Caitlyn,\" Lauren says. \"But—no offense—I don't want to stay with either one of you for any extended period of time.\" Lauren runs a hand through her hair and touches her other hand to the sweating Long Island glass. \"I just need to figure things out.\"\n\n\"Castration is still an option,\" she mutters.\n\nLauren opens her mouth to tell her sister she should seek professional help when her phone rings again. She pulls it out of her purse and gets a glance at the caller ID before Caitlyn snatches it out of her hand, staring at Rick's number. Lauren reaches over and snatches it back.\n\n\"Let me talk to him,\" Caitlyn hisses.\n\n\"No,\" Lauren says, pressing decline then turning the phone off and tossing it back in her purse. \"You are not allowed to talk to him right now.\" Lauren points at her. \"Matter of fact, you are forbidden to talk to Rick for the foreseeable future.\"\n\nLauren can hear Caitlyn grinding her teeth, something they both do whenever they get angry, something passed down by their mother either through genetics or just proximity to her overpowering personality. It's been a mutual habit for some time now, ever since they were young. Caitlyn never used to be this way though, when she was a kid. In fact, anybody who knew her as a little girl would meet the current version of Lauren's sister and—aside from the looks—find it pretty hard to put the two together. Lauren was the tomboy growing up, Caitlyn the prototypical girl's girl throughout elementary school: giggly and dreamy, taken to wearing flowery dresses no matter what the occasion, trying on their mother's makeup in her bedroom en route to her faux wedding ceremonies. She was also—and here's the clincher—the definition of a daddy's girl.\n\nThen their father died and their mother started in with her man-bashing. At first, Caitlyn was just upset about it, all the time, constantly yelling at their mom to stop talking bad about their dad. Then she started changing. At first it was the clothes. She stopped wearing dresses, then makeup, and at one point in her senior year of high school she chopped off all her hair (though she cried about it for an hour afterwards and grew it right back). And all the while her beauty was impossible to hide, which did nothing but make her even more intense. Guys would approach from all directions, most of them getting an earful before scampering away, chastised, self esteem dropped to new lows. Occasionally though, one would get through the outer shell and Caitlyn would actually start dating him. Most were short-lived relationships though, always ending badly: a couple of shattered car windows, a completely broken down bedroom door, and one particular incident that resulted in the guy in a hospital room with a concussion and twelve stitches in his leg.\n\nCaitlyn says she's the way she is because complete independence is her life goal. Even her current situation was fueled by this fierceness in her—living on her own in Kendall, working as a waitress at Hooters (the disparity between her job choice and her overall mentality towards men doesn't seem to bother her; she thinks it's fitting that she gets to use men's \"stupid fascination with tits and ass\" to \"steal\" their money from them, as she puts it) while she finishes up her nursing degree. Caitlyn doesn't have to work. She could be living at their mother's house and have everything paid for, no questions asked. Her mom's offered, many times. If she wanted, she could even keep the apartment she has right now and their mom would pay for that too. But living at home wasn't good for anybody after Caitlyn graduated from high school. There were times during Caitlyn's freshman year at UM—the first few months of which Caitlyn still lived at home with their mother—that Lauren would pass by and swear somebody had been murdered. And having their mother pay for her apartment was never an option for Caitlyn.\n\nLauren's tried to talk to Caitlyn about her attitude, tell her that she might want to get some help with her anger issues. It isn't healthy to be this pissed off all the time. Caitlyn responded by saying therapy was created by men to make women look crazy.\n\nCaitlyn downs her second Cosmo and waves rudely at the bartender who comes over, smiling. The expression is reflected everywhere on his face but his eyes, which Lauren notices are sadder than anybody's their age should be. At first glance it seems to be a sadness born from this job, the tired creases at the corner of his eyelids lending to that theory. But there's something more in them, and Lauren has a feeling this guy is sad about a lot more than his job. He's cute though, in a grungy sort of way. He's wearing the same Shambles uniform as everybody else in here, but he manages to make his seem like it was lazily thrown on from the floor of his bedroom. Tall and skinny with almost boyish facial features. Creamy skin the color of a mocha frappuccino.\n\n\"Another Cosmo?\" he asks Caitlyn. Lauren's not aware that she's waiting for another situation where a guy makes the mistake of blatantly flirting with Caitlyn until the bartender barely gives Caitlyn a once over and, instead, winks at Lauren. It's a corny move but it makes Lauren's stomach flutter a little, especially considering Caitlyn's sitting right in front of him and he couldn't possibly know about the latent feelings of inferiority Lauren tries so hard to hide.\n\n\"Yeah, another,\" Caitlyn says, then puts a hand on Lauren's shoulder. \"Keep 'em coming. Hers too.\"\n\nThe bartender raises an eyebrow in Lauren's direction, as if asking for affirmation. Lauren shrugs.\n\n\"No problem,\" he says, walking away.\n\n\"What'd Rick do when you caught him?\" Caitlyn asks.\n\n\"Nothing,\" Lauren says.\n\nCaitlyn's head snaps around so fast Lauren can hear her neck crack.\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"Technically,\" Lauren says, sipping her drink and avoiding Caitlyn's eyes. \"I didn't catch him.\"\n\n\"You just said—\"\n\n\"I said I _saw_ them doing it,\" Lauren says, feeling the tension surrounding them immediately rise. \"As in saw. Not caught.\"\n\nCaitlyn's confusion turns to shock, then red-faced embarrassment and she surveys the restaurant as if she's suddenly ashamed to be here with her sister.\n\n\"You mean,\" she says, whispering now, which is so ironic it's laughable. \"You _saw_ them fucking and you didn't _say_ anything.\"\n\n\"I did,\" Lauren protests. \"Just...not right then. After I calmed down, I went by his job.\"\n\nCaitlyn bursts out laughing and pats Lauren on the back.\n\n\"You're adopted.\"\n\n\"Caitlyn, stop it.\"\n\n\"No,\" she says. \"There's no way you're my sister. _No_ fucking way.\"\n\n\"What was I supposed to do then?\" Lauren asks.\n\n\"You, quote, unquote, 'saw' your husband having sex in your two year old son's bedroom with the babysitter and didn't confront him right then and there?\" She grinds a hand through her hair. \"What, you didn't want to _interrupt_ them?\"\n\nLauren almost tells her yes, but shuts her mouth instead. Caitlyn gets herself so wound up sometimes that it's almost impossible to reason with her.\n\n\"I slapped him,\" Lauren says finally, sheepishly, trying to appease her sister.\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"At his job, when I confronted him about it. After he told me about the statutory rape law, I just kind of...lost it and slapped him as hard as I could.\" Lauren brushes a piece of lint off her pants' leg. \"It felt good.\"\n\nA smile slowly creeps across Caitlyn's face.\n\n\"Ok, not adopted,\" she says. \"Just stupid.\"\n\nLauren smiles and takes Caitlyn's hand when she holds it out. They squeeze each other and Lauren grabs her Long Island, downing the rest of it and sliding the empty glass away from her as the bartender returns with another round.\n\n\"Where's Justin now?\" Caitlyn says as the bartender puts the glasses in front of them. Lauren's eyes meet his for a second as he's turning away and he smiles, his teeth showing a little. Lauren's face gets hot all of a sudden, and she can't tell if it's him or the alcohol.\n\n\"At Mom's,\" Lauren says.\n\n\"Good,\" she says, standing and grabbing her drink. \"Let's go find the son of a bitch so I can hit him too.\"\n\n\"Caitlyn,\" Lauren says, exasperated. \"We just had a moment. Can we leave it at that? This isn't about you. Stop trying to turn it into your personal vendetta session. It's my marriage. Let me handle it.\"\n\nShe throws her hands up in the air.\n\n\"Why the hell'd you _tell_ me then?\" she whines.\n\n\"Because you're my sister,\" Lauren says quietly.\n\nCaitlyn sits down at that, pouting. They drink in silence for a moment, the hum of conversations filling the empty space between them.\n\n\"You know,\" Caitlyn says finally. \"I warned you.\"\n\n\"Don't start, Caitlyn.\"\n\n\"No,\" she says. \"I did. I warned you. I told you the day he asked you to marry him. What did I say?\"\n\n\"A bunch of incoherent shit,\" Lauren mutters. \"You were drunk.\"\n\n\"I said don't be with him because of the baby. It won't work. But no. You didn't want to listen.\"\n\n\"I wasn't with him because of Justin,\" Lauren says, though she's not sure that's true. \"I loved him.\" Pause. \"I love him.\"\n\n\"Really?\" she says. \"What's that even _mean_ , Lauren?\"\n\n\"Are we really going to get started on this again?\" Lauren asks tiredly. \"This 'what's the meaning of love' crap? I get it. You don't believe in love. You don't believe in relationships, you don't believe in whatever. I do though.\"\n\nThe sisters go back to sipping their drinks, brooding.\n\n\"I'm just saying that I think you sold yourself short,\" Caitlyn says. \"You never needed a man to live your life, and you still don't. Look at me.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" Lauren says sarcastically. \"Look at you.\"\n\n\"I'm single and perfectly fine. I'm young, successful, and happy, and I didn't need a man to achieve any of it.\"\n\n\"But don't you ever get lonely?\" Lauren asks.\n\n\"Sure,\" she says. \"That's what Bob's for.\"\n\nLauren rolls her eyes. Bob's Caitlyn's name for her vibrator, an acronym for Battery Operated Boyfriend.\n\n\"Ridiculous,\" Lauren says. \"You know that's not normal, right?\"\n\n\"And what you're going through right now is?\"\n\nShe has a point. Lauren opens her mouth to respond but downs half her drink instead. The bartender sees this and comes over, and Lauren's compelled to ask him his name.\n\n\"Sean,\" he says. \"You?\"\n\nLauren tells him and he smiles, then looks at Caitlyn curiously as she stares at the TV with a blatantly disgusted scowl on her face. Sean the Bartender looks back at Lauren and—without even realizing it—she's suddenly twirling her hair around her finger, smiling and blinking her eyes way more than she normally does.\n\n\"How you two doing over here?\" he asks.\n\n\"Fine,\" Lauren says. \"Thank you, Sean.\"\n\nHe smiles, and Lauren giggles, and she can feel her sister's eyes burning into her. Sean frowns.\n\n\"Everything ok on your end?\" he asks Caitlyn.\n\n\"No,\" she says, and she's about to do that thing she does sometimes where she brings people into situations that have nothing to do with them then spends the entire time berating them for their opinion, so Lauren kicks her in the leg before she can say anything. Caitlyn sucks in a pained breath and Sean cocks his head to the side. Lauren keeps smiling, twirling her hair.\n\n\"She's just upset,\" Lauren says, then leans in and whispers, \"Man problems.\"\n\n\"Oh, got it,\" he says, nodding sympathetically towards Caitlyn, who's rubbing her leg. He puts a hand on top of the one she's using to hold herself up, patting it. Caitlyn looks at his hand as if it's a snake. \"Don't worry,\" Sean says. \"Everything will turn out okay. It usually does.\"\n\nThere's this awkward moment where everybody kind of waits for somebody else to say something, then Sean laughs, a quick blast of amusement that stops as abruptly as it started.\n\n\"Let me stop bullshitting you,\" he says, shrugging. \"Life's shit, wall to wall. Drink up.\"\n\nSean grabs Lauren's glass and walks away, leaving Caitlyn with her mouth hanging open (a definite accomplishment on Sean the Bartender's part). After a moment, Caitlyn looks at Lauren.\n\n\"What the fuck was that about?\" she asks. Lauren shrugs, too busy staring at Sean's ass, which doesn't seem flabby at all.\n\n-12-\n\nSean slaps the beer tap off and slides the mugs of Bud Light over to Rob and Pete. He's about to head back to the service bar so he can make whichever server's drink order just came through the ticket printer when Pete says:\n\n\"I remember when I was in high school, man. Always used to wonder, man, like, what was the point?\"\n\nRob, adding his two cents, says:\n\n\"So righteous, bruh. Scary, but righteous.\"\n\nSean pauses, turning back to them. They're both wearing Miami Heat jerseys, Rob a number three Dwyane Wade, Pete a number six Lebron James. Both of them need a shave and Sean can almost smell that sweaty beer stench he knows is there—the smell that alcoholics always have, whether or not they're drinking or just showered or whatever—only he's not close enough to them to actually smell it so he knows it's just his imagination. The two stop talking when they notice they've got an audience, and Sean kind of wants to add a line or two to the conversation, but Rob and Pete don't know when to shut up and Sean's got drinks to make. Behind him, he can hear the server ticket printer losing its mind, so he nods at Rob and Pete and turns away.\n\nAt the service bar, one of the servers—a guy named Gabe, 35 years old, working here since he was 17—steps around the corner, the collar on his Shambles Bar and Grill polo popped up, which would make him look like a weird, Puerto Rican version of Fonzie from _Happy Days_ if his arms weren't the size of tree trunks and his hair didn't have like a pound of gel in it so it spikes up about three inches straight into the air. Instead he looks like he fell off the set of _Jersey Shore_ , landed on his head and bounced to a stop in Shambles.\n\n\"Sup, bro,\" he says.\n\nSean nods and grabs the tickets from the printer and sees the first order is for three Pina Coladas for one of his tables.\n\n\"Gabe, quit pushing frozen drinks,\" Sean says. \"They're fucking annoying to make.\"\n\n\"Just keeping you on your toes, bro,\" he says. Sean scowls at him and Gabe grins back at him, his big white teeth gleaming against his tanned skin. Sean makes the drinks and barely places them on the service bar before Gabe snatches them out of Sean's hand, still grinning as he turns and gangsta-limps over to his table. A kid runs screaming in front of him and he almost drops the drinks, and Sean laughs loudly so Gabe can hear him. He shoots Sean a glare and continues walking, another kid speeding behind him like it's a fucking Manhattan intersection.\n\nIt's kid's night here right now and the Heat are playing the Orlando Magic on TNT so the restaurant's pretty busy. A couple of people have already gotten drunk enough to act like idiots and get themselves thrown out by Shambles' GM. The place sounds like a zoo and all the servers are walking around with these shit-eating grins plastered across their faces even though Sean knows for a fact that most of them want to shoot the people sitting at their tables. In the face.\n\nIn other words, business as usual.\n\nSean's starting to make the rest of the drink orders when he looks down and there's a chubby Asian kid standing right in front of the service bar, mouth hanging open, eyes wide. Sean glances at the next ticket and sees it's for an Oreo milkshake, and would bet money it's for this kid. Normally, just a kid's presence would make Sean want to spray him in the face with seltzer water, but he's thinking about his brother and high school and college and the conversation Rob and Pete are still having a few feet away from him, so he ignores the kid.\n\nRob and Pete are regulars, so it's not like he hasn't heard them go on their quasi-philosophical drunken rants before. They have one every day. This one's different though. It's hitting a little closer to home.\n\nSean finishes the chubby Asian kid's milkshake and smiles when the girl who's serving the kid's table comes over to get it and very subtly pushes him out of the way. There's a guy sitting near the TV who needs another Miller Lite so Sean heads over to the taps and gets caught in the spider web that is Rob and Pete.\n\n\"Don't you miss it, Sean?\" Rob blurts out, his words slurring so it sounds kind of like \"Dawn you mix it?\"\n\n\"Miss what?\" Sean asks. He's fluent in drunk-speak.\n\n\"High school, man,\" Steve chimes in. \"No worries, man. High school was cool, no worries, no problems. Totally Bob Marley.\"\n\nIn his head, Sean sees his brother's drawn face.\n\n\"Yeah, I don't know,\" he says. \"Depends on what you mean by problems.\"\n\nThey nod like Sean just said something profound and Sean uses the pause to break away, drop the Miller Lite off, make sure the two hot sisters at the end of the bar—who are still in the middle of the heated discussion they've been having for the past hour—are ok, then hit it to the back storage room where the ice machine is.\n\nThe ice machine is Sean's oasis in this desert he calls his job. It's the one place where he can hide from the chaos going on out front every goddamn night. It's hidden in the storage area behind the kitchen, near the freezer and the back door leading out to the dumpster. Sean comes back here sometimes just to think, on the nights when the drunk people get too loud and he wants his own drink so bad he's ready to strangle anybody close enough.\n\nA few minutes back here with the restaurant noise far off in the background, the ice machine chugging along and the cooks yelling at each other always calms him down. Usually it's anger he's trying to get away from. Right now, it's more the surprise at how shitty he just felt standing in front of Rob and Pete while they talked about high school.\n\nAnd anger, yeah. A little bit of that too.\n\nSean grabs a bucket and starts scooping ice into it and thinks about how much different high school was from college. College was a shitload of fun while he was there, the exact opposite of high school; a huge blur of colors and warm feelings and smells all wrapped up in a burrito of artificial \"free will\" with a side of \"false hope.\" The only thing that really sucked about it was when it all disappeared to some deep, dark place in his intestines a few months after graduation.\n\nSean should have seen it coming though. He remembers during orientation at FSU, standing in the back with Derek and Leon, scanning the room and looking at all the hot freshman chicks, the orientation leader introducing the vice president of some department or other who came up and stared at all of them until the whole room started murmuring. Then he cleared his throat and said:\n\n\"The next four years are going to be the best years of your lives.\"\n\nAnd Sean's sure he meant well, but...who says that?\n\nWhat does a person have to look forward to after college if they bring students in with shit like that?\n\nAnd then they tried to cover it up once Sean got closer to his senior year by talking about all the opportunities he'd have now that he was almost done, but they weren't fooling anybody. They told him he could do whatever he wanted after college, and of course the illusion was great while it lasted. But now, after the fact—working at a place where Sean's job is to get people drunk, a job that doesn't need or give a shit about his psychology degree—college reminds him of one of the many one-hit wonders over the past decades, those musicians who appeared with something that seemed so timeless at that moment, creating a storm of activity right before disappearing into oblivion.\n\nSean picks up the ice bucket, which he's overfilled so the ice is falling over the sides. He doesn't notice he's standing in water that's pooled half an inch deep in a concave part of the tiled floor until it's too late and he slips, spilling the entire goddamn thing everywhere. He spends the next two minutes kicking ice into the drain next to the ice machine, cursing under his breath then refilling the bucket again.\n\nBack up front with the refilled ice bucket, he dumps it in the three different coolers surrounding the bar, checks on everybody's drinks then goes back to service bar where—surprisingly—there aren't any drink orders in the ticket printer. All the guests are lost in their own conversations or watching the Heat game, so Sean stands at the end of the bar, looking out the window across the restaurant at his car sitting out in the parking lot, picturing his new guitar lying in the backseat. He really wants to leave and go start learning how to play it.\n\nSuddenly, Rob—of the Rob/Pete duo—accidentally-on-purpose drops his beer mug on the tile surrounding the bar stools and it shatters. Everybody in the restaurant goes quiet for two seconds, then Rob laughs—a loud, barking sound—and a majority of the guests in the restaurant let out a harmonious \"ooooooohhhh\" and start clapping.\n\nSean grimaces at the sound of breaking glass, knowing he's going to have to be the one who cleans it up. The service printer goes off and he looks over to see that, while he was daydreaming, six ticket orders came through. He grabs the stream of paper and almost yells in frustration when he sees they're all for kid chocolate milkshakes. He looks up just in time to catch another little chubby kid—this one red-haired with freckles—standing on the other side of the service bar and looking Sean right in the face as he reaches over and pulls lemons out of the garnish tray, dropping them on the floor and promptly stepping on them.\n\nSean has no fucking clue why he's doing this.\n\nAll Sean knows is he's suddenly struck with that same urge from earlier, in his car, when he wanted to just drive away and never look back. Only this time he can imagine himself reaching his destination and walking out with his guitar, shacking up in some motel and living with minimal accommodations, growing a beard and going swimming on the beach during the day, smoking weed and playing his guitar all night. The thought makes him happy.\n\nIt hits him in that moment— _really_ hits him—that he's spent the past three years since graduation zoning out behind this bar and reminiscing about things he's not old enough to be reminiscing about yet, all while serving people drinks so they can get drunk and try to fuck each other or yell play calls at sports games on a TV that can't respond to them.\n\nUp until now, Sean thought all of this was semantics. The prelude to his _real_ life. It's not though. If he doesn't do something, he'll be fifty and still standing here, sliding beers to retired cops and janitors and going home to drink his own liver dead, smoke himself into oblivion and stare at the yellowing degree hanging crooked on his wall.\n\nSean's about to pull off his uniform and hit the front door running when a lemon smacks into the side of his head. He turns and angrily searches for the chubby red-haired kid but he's gone back to his seat, so Sean spins back towards the other end of the bar where the two hot sisters are still sitting, the brunette standing with her hands in the air like she just scored a touchdown. Sean walks over to her, his anger slowly receding with each step.\n\n\"Did you just throw a lemon at me?\" he asks.\n\n\"Awesome throw,\" she says. Her eyes have that glazed look he knows real well, from working here and looking in drunk people's faces every day (also staring at his own face in the mirror, but he's not about to admit that to himself). \"You gotta give it to me, that was an awesome throw.\"\n\n\"Why would you throw a lemon at me?\" he asks.\n\n\"Was trying to get your attention,\" she says. \"You looked pissed off.\"\n\nHer sister, the hot blonde, digs through her purse, obviously drunk her damn self.\n\n\"I'm guessing you two need another drink,\" Sean says.\n\n\"Well, yes,\" Lauren says, smiling and twirling her hair in this way that makes Sean horny for some reason. \"But that's not why I called you over here.\"\n\n\"Ok,\" Sean says. \"What then?\"\n\nLauren gives him a mischievous grin and Sean completely forgets that a moment ago he hated everybody and everything and was contemplating quitting his job and moving to a secluded beach.\n\n\"I just wanted to know,\" Lauren says, pausing and looking at her sister whose done digging through her purse and squints at Sean like she doesn't know where he came from. She glances at Lauren and shrugs. Lauren nods and looks back at Sean, smiling. \"I just wanted to know what time you get off work.\"\n\nstep four: modification\n\n-13-\n\nLauren feels Sean the bartender's tongue against hers and can't help thinking about it as if she's not involved in the act, like it's somebody else whose lips are pressed tightly against his. Yet, at the same time, she's suddenly so aware of every part of herself; every pore and nerve and hair follicle, like every cell in her body has suddenly achieved consciousness. The whole situation is a wonder for Lauren, though she can't really tell what's exciting her more: him, the alcohol, or just the newness that the combination represents.\n\nEither way, it's happening.\n\nLauren can't say she knew they'd end up back at Sean's apartment when she asked him to hang out after work, but she can't say she was completely oblivious to the possibility either. She can't really say anything, actually, because she's drunk and her tongue is currently occupying the space inside Sean's mouth while he fumbles around with the keys to his apartment.\n\nSean gets the door open and Lauren pulls him inside, pushing the door closed behind them. From there they stumble to Sean's bedroom where they fall back on the bed, Sean's hands gripping Lauren's waist, her shirt suddenly feeling so constricting and uncomfortable that she has no choice but to pull it off. She briefly thinks about Caitlyn and hopes Sean's roommate was able to get her home from the bar okay, then Sean's hands move from her hips to the front of her waist and she can't think of anything anymore but him, his smell, his taste, the general feel of his arms grasping her like he's in need. Like they're both in need. Of what, she doesn't know, but it feels good, the sweat and heat of it all, his skin against hers as they fall off his bed to the floor and she rips his shirt open, kicking her pants off then her underwear, flinging them across the room. Within moments she's naked, and there's a single second that she feels self-conscious before she looks Sean in his eyes and the drunken desire that's there overpowers everything else and she pounces on him, digging her nails into his back as she straddles his waist, puts a hand between his legs, and pulls him inside her.\n\nEver since sex stopped being painful—and yes, it hurt like hell the first couple of times, back during her sophomore year in high school with Max Klein, who Lauren swore up and down she was going to marry—it's been like a dream for her. She's sure it is for most people, but since she's not most people it's impossible for her to feel like there's not something unique about her own experience. Even now, at twenty-four with a child and a husband who—up until a few months ago—she was regularly having sex with, she's still in awe at how distinctive this moment is. Sean isn't a supermodel, but he looks good naked, skinny but firm and _different_. There's strength in his hands, coupled with this tenderness in his fingers as they touch her everywhere, like he can't get enough of her skin. And Lauren can't get enough of his, rubbing her hands across his broad shoulders and back, the freshness of the contours intriguing her.\n\nBy time they get into it—feeling out each other's rhythm and moving in time to their breaths—almost every part of her is tingling, and the feeling mixed with the alcohol puts her into this reverie where she doesn't really know what she's doing. She assumes she's being loud because at one point Sean puts a hand over her mouth and laughs, looking her in the eye as he does and using his other hand to grab her ass. She bites his palm and he pulls it away, hissing, then she bites his bottom lip and grins even harder on top of him until it feels like she's about to explode. Then she does, a burst that she wishes would last forever and almost seems like it does.\n\nThen, like a receding wave, it's over, and she falls flat on his chest, breathing hard and suddenly so tired. And sure, she knows at that moment—lying splayed across Sean's stomach and chest, the musky scent of sex slowly dissipating—that she should get up and figure out how to get back to her mom's house to be with Justin, but she can't really move right now so she closes her eyes for a moment, and when she opens them she's lying on Sean's bed, the early morning sun peeking through the blinds covering his window.\n\nLauren glances at Sean and he's snoring lightly, and it's not like he looks different than she thought he did. Yet still, she thinks about last night and feels a slight pang of regret. She's still a little drunk, but sober enough to remember her car is back at Shambles. Therefore, she's going to have to bite the bullet and go through the awkward experience of waking this man up and watching his face as he slowly remembers who she is and why she's lying naked in his bed. Then she'll have to smile and ask him for a ride back to the bar. She curses under her breath.\n\nLauren pokes Sean and he groans then rolls away from her, a fresh spot of drool gleaming up at her from his pillow. She rubs her temples, a dull pulse forming in her forehead. Sean's alarm clock reads seven AM. She has to be at work in two hours and she's sitting here butt naked, trying to figure out how to get back to her car. Self-conscious, she hops out of bed and grabs her clothes off a floor that's littered with random stuff, mostly beer cans. She pulls on her pants and shirt quickly before Sean can get the chance to wake up and see sober what he's already seen drunk, then she heads quietly out of his bedroom and down the hall, past the living room where Sean's roommate and some girl are whispering fiercely to each other, the girl pointing in the direction of Sean's room. As Lauren passes, the girl sees her and rolls her eyes.\n\n\"See? That right there,\" she says. \"That is unacceptable.\"\n\nLauren feels a prick of defensiveness and the resultant anger, and almost asks Sean's roommate if he got her sister home okay. Her head is pounding though, and she doesn't want to make anybody start yelling. So she steps out of their line of sight, stopping to listen to the back end of the argument.\n\n\"Babe,\" Sean's roommate says. \"Calm down.\"\n\n\"Don't tell me to calm down,\" she hisses. \"This shit needs to stop. You two aren't children.\"\n\n\"Hanging out with my friend on his birthday makes me a child?\"\n\nLauren didn't know it was Sean's birthday. A faint smile touches her lips.\n\n\"When that friend is Sean, yes,\" the woman says. \"He needs to grow up, and so do you. We have no future if you're going to keep pulling this all nighter bullshit, gallivanting around with him and God knows who else.\"\n\nLauren starts to feel bad about eavesdropping, so she heads to the bathroom and locks herself in.\n\nInside, Lauren takes off her pants and shirt, puts on her underwear and bra then puts her pants and shirt back on. Turning to the mirror, Lauren scowls at her reflection, which very much reflects the night she had. Her mascara is smeared around her eyes and her hair is sticking out in eighteen different directions. She searches her pockets and finds a tie and throws the mop of hair on her head back into a frizzy ponytail, then washes all the make-up off her face. Eventually she looks as presentable as is possible given the circumstances and rummages through Sean's medicine cabinet for some aspirin. Instead she finds an empty box of tampons and an empty prescription bottle of Zoloft for someone named Maria, and wonders if that's the woman yelling at his roommate in the living room.\n\nLauren closes the cabinet and heads back down the hallway to Sean's room, avoiding looking at the couple in the living room as she ducks inside and stares at Sean's still-sleeping form.\n\nLauren surveys the room, noticing the single frame hanging crooked on the wall in the far corner: Sean's Bachelor's degree from Florida State. Psychology. Lauren wonders why Sean the Bartender has a degree in Psychology. Or, more accurately, why Sean the guy with the degree in Psychology is bartending at Shambles Bar and Grill.\n\nBeneath the frame there's a desk against the wall with a laptop and sound system. Below that, a guitar and amp sitting next to a Guitar Center bag. On the wall surrounding the frame—and on all the other walls in the room—are posters. Lots of them, all album covers: Puddle of Mudd, Blink 182, Eminem, Lil Wayne, Rick Ross. Lauren doesn't know how she didn't notice them last night. A lot of variety, which is good, she guesses. Though it's kind of odd for a man Sean's age to have music posters all over his wall.\n\nBehind his bedroom door's an outdated Hooters calendar (figures) and she notices it about the same time she notices Sean's awake, his eyes wide and confused and set on her. Lauren suddenly feels naked all over again, even though he's the one with the bed sheet barely covering his bare butt, which is a slightly lighter shade of brown than the rest of him. He pushes himself up a little and looks down at himself then back up at Lauren.\n\n\"Did I fall asleep like this?\"\n\nLauren frowns. Definitely not the first question she expected from him. She shrugs.\n\n\"Wait,\" Sean says, his eyes twinkling suddenly as he looks back into his memory bank. Lauren cringes a little, because she has a feeling he's going to say something that's going to take this awkwardness to a whole new level.\n\n\"I need a ride back to my car,\" she says quickly.\n\nSean opens his mouth, then closes it and bites his lip.\n\n\"Okay,\" he says finally. He hops out of bed and Lauren catches a glimpse of his flaccid penis. At the sight, she's hit with a vivid flashback of the night, the sweat and movement and release, her on top, him on top, the floor, the chair, the bed. The memory's not unpleasant, and her skin prickles a little. It's odd though, like seeing a picture of herself five years ago and realizing how much she's actually changed since then. Sean notices his nakedness and quickly pulls his pants on without putting on any underwear, tucking himself away before pulling his zipper up. Lauren points at his degree.\n\n\"So,\" she says. \"Psychology, huh?\"\n\nAt that moment, Sean's room door opens and his roommate appears. He clears his throat and glares at Sean (who's lacing up his sneakers and acting like he doesn't notice somebody just barged into his room) before noticing Lauren.\n\n\"Hey, Lauren,\" he says, flashing a smile. Lauren can't remember his name so she just smiles and waves at him and he goes back to glaring at Sean.\n\n\"Sean, we need to talk.\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" Sean says, still intently focused on his shoes. \"I have to drop her off at her car. I'll be back in a little.\"\n\nThe guy walks out without saying anything and Sean stands up, staying quiet as he walks out of the room. Lauren hesitates for a moment then follows him outside and a moment later they're in his car with the radio on making their way through morning rush hour traffic back to Shambles. The parking lot is empty except for Lauren's car, looking lonely and oddly sinful all by itself, as if anybody driving by would see it and know exactly what its owner was doing the night before.\n\nThey both sit outside the restaurant where their night began, the tension so thick it's stifling. Lauren knows at some point she's going to have to get out of Sean's car and into hers, but she can't seem to do anything to make it happen. She really wants to leave, go see her son and explain to her mom why she didn't make it back last night. She turned her phone back on while they were driving to Shambles and the thing went insane with notifications: twenty text messages, twelve voicemails. All the texts were from Rick, along with eight of the voicemails, repetitive pleas for her to call him and let him know she and Justin are okay. The rest were from her mom, the first two telling her Justin's fine but he misses her and Lauren should call and let her know what's going on with Rick (and that she should reconsider getting Caitlyn involved). The last two were just repetitive: \"I'm very disappointed in you, Lauren.\"\n\nIf her mother only knew.\n\nLauren can't leave right now though. She can tell Sean's waiting for her to say something encouraging, so she smiles.\n\n\"I had fun,\" she says, at the same moment she realizes she's not lying.\n\n\"Me too,\" he says. There's another moment of silence, then he says, \"We should meet up again, grab a cup of coffee or something.\"\n\n\"That'd be nice,\" she says. And honestly—seeing him in the daylight, his morning stubble and sadly intelligent brown eyes—it does sound nice. Which makes her feel even worse.\n\n\"Let me get your number,\" he says, moving to take his cell phone out of his pocket. \"I'll give you a call.\"\n\nLauren hesitates for just a second, but Sean is quick. He catches it immediately and clenches his jaw, trying to hide the dejection that touches the corner of his eyes. Lauren immediately feels like shit because she doesn't want him to get the wrong idea. She just really doesn't want him calling at an inopportune moment. She doesn't know when that inopportune moment could be, but current circumstances indicate that her future is going to be rife with them.\n\n\"Actually, don't worry about it,\" he says. \"I'll see you next time you come into Shambles. Or whatever.\"\n\n\"No,\" she says. \"It's not like that. It's just...\" Lauren pauses, runs a hand through her ponytail. \"Things are complicated right now.\"\n\n\"I bet.\"\n\n\"Give me your number,\" she says, pulling her cell phone out again. \"I'll call you instead.\"\n\nLauren can tell he doesn't believe her, but he gives her his number anyway. She's about to save it under Sean, but changes her mind and saves it under Shambles instead. Just in case.\n\n\"I had fun,\" she says again. She doesn't know why. \"Really,\" she adds.\n\nSean just nods, looking like somebody who just found out their dog ran away. It's cute, actually, that he obviously doesn't want this to be a one night stand. Lauren can't tell what she wants right now though, her mind too filled with thoughts of the consequences of last night. She hesitates for a moment before getting out of Sean's car and walking over to hers then turning to wave at him, but he's already driven off.\n\nLauren watches as Sean's car fades into the distance and feels a pang of something in her gut. Guilt, maybe, or doubt about how she handled that situation. Sean didn't do anything wrong. In his mind though, he's probably wondering what horrible thing happened between last night and right now to warrant her being so standoffish. And it makes her want to call him and tell him the answer to that question is nothing. He did absolutely nothing wrong.\n\nInstead, Lauren gets in her car, turning it on and letting it idle for a moment, pulling her phone out and dialing her mother. She answers on the first ring, which indicates that this is going to be an aggravating conversation.\n\n\"Where are you?\" her mother asks.\n\n\"I'm on my way.\"\n\n\"Where are you?\" she repeats.\n\n\"I'm in my car. I just got in. I'm coming right now.\"\n\n\"Rick called,\" she says. She's resorted to the form of communication where she lets her thoughts out in two to three word bursts; it's a really passive-aggressive form of verbal abuse she likes to utilize when she's disappointed in Lauren or Caitlyn. Talking to her when she's like this is like trying to reason with Justin when he wants a toy he just saw on TV and Lauren has to tell him he can't have it. Only he's two and a half. Her mother's forty-five.\n\n\"I'm sorry, Mom,\" Lauren says. \"I lost track of time and fell asleep at a friend's. It was a long night. I'll be there soon.\"\n\n\"Justin's upset,\" she says.\n\nLauren rubs her forehead and wishes there had been aspirin in Sean's medicine cabinet.\n\n\"Put him on the phone,\" she says.\n\nThere's a muffled voice and some fumbling around and then Lauren hears a light breath on the line.\n\n\"Mommy?\"\n\nThe sound of his voice strikes a chord and Lauren has to catch her breath.\n\n\"Hi, baby,\" Lauren says.\n\n\"Daddy?\" he asks, and Lauren feels that envy all over again.\n\n\"Daddy's at work, baby,\" Lauren says.\n\n\"Oh,\" he says. \"Miss you.\"\n\nLauren pulls the phone away, squeezes her eyes shut then puts it back to her ear.\n\n\"I miss you too, baby,\" she says. \"I'll be home soon. Put Grandma back on.\"\n\nMore fumbling and then her mom comes back on the line, not saying anything, just giving a little grunt.\n\n\"Was he good?\" Lauren asks.\n\n\"An angel, as usual,\" she says, pausing. \"Where are you?\"\n\n\"Mom,\" Lauren says, slowly. \"I'm. On. My. Way.\"\n\n\"Don't get upset with me,\" she says, sounding hurt. Lauren grinds her teeth.\n\n\"I'm sorry, Mom,\" Lauren says. \"Ok? Sorry I left Justin overnight without telling you. I didn't mean to inconvenience you.\"\n\n\"It's no inconvenience,\" she says, her tone shifting. \"I just want to know what the plan is. What are you going to do about Rick? This could be detrimental to Justin's development. He needs to know what's going to happen.\"\n\n\"Justin will be fine, Mom,\" Lauren says. \"He's two, he doesn't need to know anything about anything.\" Lauren pushes at her temples with her free hand, her headache starting to pulse, which she knows means it's not going away anytime soon. \"I don't really feel like talking about this over the phone.\"\n\n\"Well you have to talk about it sometime. If not with me then with Rick. Arrangements need to be made.\"\n\n\"I know, Mom,\" Lauren says. \"Believe me, I know this. I'm late for work, I just want to change and be on my way. Can Justin stay with you again today?\"\n\n\"Anything you need, baby,\" she says, and the way she says it gives Lauren a bad taste in her mouth.\n\nLauren hangs up and is about to put her car in gear when everything sort of rushes up on her all at once: Rick, Natalie, Caitlyn, Sean the bartender, Justin, her mother, this hangover. And she can't help it when she drops her head to the steering wheel and sucks in one deep breath then unleashes a scream that reverberates in her ear drums, turning the pulse in her head into more of a bang. When her voice gives out, she sits and waits with her head down, breathing deeply until the urge to scream again recedes back to that place where those types of outbursts lie dormant. Then she raises her head slowly, pulls down the visor, frowns at her flushed face in the mirror for a moment then reaches in the glove compartment and pulls out the makeup kit, applies some mascara and blush then tosses it all back in, turns the car on, and makes her way slowly back to her mother and son.\n\n-14-\n\nSean stumbles into his room, falls face first onto his bed, and groans.\n\nRolling over he stares up at his degree, the medieval lettering stating that Florida State University was very proud to give him this Bachelor of Science in Psychology three years ago. Hanging in the back of the room, high on the wall so he can see it from almost every vantage point in the room. And for the life of him he cannot remember why he put it there.\n\nSean reaches over to his bedside table and grabs the first thing his hand touches—a red digital clock he got at Wal-Mart who-knows-when with batteries that died like six months ago—and throws it at the degree. The clock smashes off the wall about two feet to the right of the frame, falling to the carpet in a bunch of different pieces. Sean curses and shifts around to go clean it up, but the movement brings up a sudden whiff of Lauren's perfume from the bed sheets and Sean pauses, sniffing the air and remembering last night (nice) and what just happened in the parking lot at Shambles (not so nice) and wishing he had another Wal-Mart clock to throw.\n\nSean pushes himself off the bed and stands in the middle of the room for a moment, then pulls off his shirt, his shorts, his socks and shoes and tosses them all into a corner.\n\nBack to basics.\n\nHe's about to sit down and turn on the TV when his eye catches his new guitar lying next to his computer, the amp and all the accessories in the Guitar Center bag. All thoughts of one night stands suddenly fly out of his head as he slowly approaches the beautiful blue instrument, gently picking it up.\n\nOne minute later, Sean's standing with a pick in his right hand, the guitar strapped around his neck. He spreads his legs a little, bending his knees and closing his eyes, feeling the slickness of the strings against his fingertips, taut like razor wire.\n\nSean takes a deep breath, raises his arm, and swings it down in an arc. A high pitched _twang_ emits from the strings and he remembers the amp and feels his face heating up with embarrassment, even though nobody's around to see exactly how much he doesn't know what he's doing. He spends the next fifteen minutes hooking up the amp to the guitar then unhooking it then hooking it back up the _right_ way, and soon he's back in the middle of the room with the guitar strapped across his chest, the guitar itself hanging in front of his pelvis, a pick in one hand and a plug in the other.\n\nCarefully, Sean pushes the plug into the end of the guitar and the amp next to his foot lets out a _screeee_ of feedback before humming quietly.\n\nAnd just like that, he's scared.\n\nOf what?\n\nHe has no clue.\n\nHe just knows that this all seems pretty heavy all of a sudden. He has no idea how to play this thing, yet he's going to _have_ to learn now to justify the amount of money he spent. Talk about pressure.\n\nIt blows Sean's mind that he has no idea how to do something like play a guitar. How he doesn't know how to do...anything, really. Sure, he grew up with video games and computers and TV teaching him how to do stuff easier, more efficiently, but when it comes to actually putting his hands on a tangible _thing_ and making that thing do something else, he's clueless. He can read. He can write. In college he used both those skills to pass tests and get the degree that's up on his wall. But reading books and passing tests isn't really doing anything, unless you count learning to read and write as an actual act of _doing_ , which Sean doesn't because the majority of Americans can do both those things and, therefore, have relegated those actions down to the level of significance reserved for things like walking, or breathing. And yeah, Sean knows walking and breathing are actually pretty fucking significant, but they're not things you'd stop somebody for just to compliment them on. You'd never see one guy look at another guy and say, \"Bro, I didn't know you could breathe. Awesome.\" That would be stupid, and would likely get the man punched in the mouth.\n\nBut now, with the opportunity to learn something that requires actual _doing_ , Sean feels like a kid again, adolescent and trying something out for the first time, all nerves and self-doubt.\n\nSean hears voices in the hallway—Derek and Kristina—then a moment later silence as Derek's bedroom door slams shut. Sean waits a moment to make sure they're not going to come back out before he steps over and closes his door all the way then turns back to the amp. Next to his TV there's a large, cheap picture frame with a Limp Bizkit poster in it. At this angle, Sean can see his reflection and he looks weird with the guitar strapped around his neck. The distorted image forces him to notice certain features for the first time too: the shadows in his sunken cheeks, the thin vein pulsing on the right side of his neck, the uneven stubble on his head (instead of getting actual haircuts at a barber shop, the past few months Sean's taken to using a razor and giving himself a two minute once-over every week).\n\nOverall, Sean has to admit that he looks like a hot mess, especially standing here in his underwear holding a guitar. He smiles though, and it makes him look halfway decent, less like a homeless dude and more like somebody that a drunk, hot chick like Lauren would consider taking home. He looks even better smiling with the guitar sitting against his stomach. Not like the pretty-boy-rock-star-Lenny-Kravitz type of good, but more like that one guy from _System of a Down_ , the lanky bass player with the braided beard and the small potbelly right above his waist line, only Sean doesn't have a beard and he's not pasty white and—once again—he's standing in his underwear.\n\nHe takes a step back and prepares himself, taking a deep breath, holding it, then raising his pick hand again and bringing it back down in the same arcing strum motion. The amp lets out an explosion of sound that almost makes Sean fall over, cacophonous music notes erupting into the floor and vibrating up both of his legs and his pelvis.\n\nAnd, to Sean, it sounds fucking beautiful.\n\nAbout ten seconds later, there's a bunch of hard foot-stepping coming down the hallway and Sean turns in time to catch Derek as he throws open the door then freezes, his face dropping in surprise, mixed with some fatigue. They have a tense standoff for a moment while Derek silently scans Sean's room—not just the guitar and amp and Guitar Center bag but everything, including Sean himself, from head to toe, like he just realized he's got a roommate and that there's a lot more in this apartment than he thought there was and he's wondering where all this furniture came from and how fast he can get it out.\n\n\"What the hell is that?\" he asks, focusing on the guitar.\n\nSean can't help it.\n\n\"A dog,\" he says.\n\n\"Seriously, Sean?\" Derek groans.\n\n\"It's my new guitar,\" Sean says. \"You like?\"\n\nInstead of answering, he catches Sean's eye and glares.\n\n\"You know rent's due in a week, right?\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" Sean says, shrugging. \"I'll work extra at Shambles.\"\n\n\"We need to talk, Sean,\" he says, rubbing his forehead.\n\n\"We are talking,\" Sean says, then scratches his head. \"What about?\"\n\n\"I'm moving,\" he says abruptly, then closes his eyes. \"Or you are. One of us has to. I'm moving in with Kristina.\"\n\nThere's a long moment of silence, and Sean gets really self-conscious that he's wearing nothing but underwear. Considering he's spent the past year walking around his apartment in exactly this outfit though, this sudden insecurity is inexplicable.\n\n\"Excuse me?\" he asks.\n\n\"I'm sorry, Sean,\" Derek says, clenching his fists. \"It's just—you know the lease is up next month, right?\"\n\nSean did not know this.\n\n\"Yeah,\" he says. \"So?\"\n\n\"Well,\" Derek says, scratching his elbow. \"Kristina and I have been talking about it. And I know this was—is—your place and I'm not trying to push you out of it. I'm just saying, Kristina and I have decided to move in together. And we talked and figured with your, um\"—he pauses, clearly avoiding Sean's eyes, anger quelled and replaced with obvious guilt—\"with your finances not being so secure, you'd probably be better off finding someplace cheaper and letting Kristina and I take over the lease here.\"\n\nSean lets the words hang in the air for a moment, as if by not responding right away he can keep them from becoming reality for a little while longer.\n\n\"Really?\" Sean says finally, forcing a smile that feels like a leer. \"You guys come to that decision all by yourselves then? Good for you.\"\n\n\"Come on, Sean,\" Derek says, then holds his hands up. \"Ok, you know what? I'm sorry. I went about this the wrong way. I didn't meant to burst in here and throw this at you. It's just been—a really long morning, and I'm hungover as shit and figured this might be the next best move for you.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" Sean says, his grip tightening on the neck of the guitar as he turns to fully face Derek. \"Okay. This is for my benefit then? Well, I guess you two deserve some recognition then, don't you? Thank you guys. Thank you so fucking much. You two are in-fucking-credible human beings.\"\n\n\"Sean, stop it,\" he says. \"We've been talking about this for a while now.\"\n\n\"Behind my back,\" Sean says.\n\n\"Not behind your back,\" he says angrily, then shuffles around nervously. \"Just—not when you were around.\"\n\n\"Classic,\" Sean says, laughing loud and exaggerated.\n\n\"Sean, seriously,\" he says. \"This isn't working out and you know it. You need a change of scenery. I mean, look at you.\" He sweeps his arm around the entire room, and Sean wants to punch him in the face. \"You're a mess, man. Have been since Leon. And Maria. And I get it, I really do. It messed me up too, man. But this is ridiculous. Staying in this apartment with all these memories and feelings, drinking and smoking 24/7.\" He looks down the hallway and his voice elevates a little when he adds, \"And bringing home random women who could be doing God knows what in here while we're asleep.\" Which is the moment Sean realizes this display is for Kristina's benefit, which just pisses him off even more.\n\n\"This is bullshit, Derek,\" Sean yells. \"You're Kristina's bitch now? She's making decisions on what goes on in _our_ apartment?\"\n\n\"It's not her, Sean,\" he says, not sounding convincing as he avoids Sean's eyes again. \"I want this.\"\n\n\"No you don't,\" Sean says. \"She's forcing you into this, trying to take control. Just like Maria did. They're exactly the same.\" Sean points at him. \"Don't fall for it, bro.\"\n\n\"Sean,\" Derek says, tiredly. He meets Sean's eyes with his for the first time since he came in the room. \"You really should have moved after you two broke up.\"\n\n\"Fuck you!\" Sean yells. Derek flinches, taking a step back. Sean takes a deep breath and steadies his voice. \"This is my apartment. It was mine before you moved in and I will not leave just because you and your bitch girlfriend say so.\"\n\n\"Don't call me a bitch, Sean,\" Kristina yells from Derek's room.\n\nDerek's face turns red.\n\n\"Don't call her a bitch,\" he echoes quietly.\n\n\"I just did,\" Sean mumbles. He knows it's childish, but it feels good anyways.\n\nDerek turns away, and Sean looks back at the Limp Bizkit poster, both of them standing on opposite sides of the room, the only sound coming from their heavy breathing.\n\n\"You're right,\" Derek says after a moment. \"This was your apartment first. You and Maria's, your fiancée at the time.\" He turns back to Sean, and Sean turns to face him. \"But then it wasn't, and you guys just weren't. _Then_ it became _our_ apartment, and then, for the past nine months, it's been pretty much mine.\" He points at Sean, Sean seeing his distorted finger in the poster's reflection. \"You don't do anything around here, Sean. Everything you touch is filthy, and Kristina and I have been cleaning up after you for forever now. Your room looks like a homeless person squats here and you're starting to look like an ex-con. This apartment isn't a hideout, Sean. It's a residence. I live here. I study here, I'm trying to make a life for myself here. I'm tired of making excuses for you.\"\n\n\"Excuses for what?\"\n\n\"You, Sean!\" he yells. \"Just—you.\"\n\nSean suddenly wants to put some pants on. He feels like pants would give him some leverage in this argument. But he's already been standing there in his underwear and is pretty sure putting pants on will only escalate things, like he's putting on battle armor or something.\n\n\"You're trying to make a life for yourself here?\" Sean says. \"What do you think I'm trying to do?\"\n\n\"I don't know, Sean,\" he says. \"Look, I know things have been hard for you, but there's a point where you have to move on.\" His eyes drift away from Sean's and he runs a hand through his hair. \"Kristina and I are moving in together, whether it's here or somewhere else. I know you can't afford this place on your own, and I seriously doubt you can find somebody to move in with you.\"\n\nSean opens his mouth to refute the claim then thinks about the limited number of people he socializes with—none of whom he'd _ever_ want as a roommate—and closes his mouth.\n\n\"Stop this, Sean,\" Derek says. \"Be practical. This isn't an attack against you, bro. You need a change, something to jumpstart your life and get you back on track. I know it doesn't look like it right now, but I really am trying to help you. You cannot make anything of value happen while you're living in this apartment.\"\n\nAs he says this, he stares at Sean's guitar, and Sean's never had somebody—with one look—take something he's felt so strongly about and instantly make it look like the dumbest idea he's ever had in his life. It takes everything in him not to come running at Derek with the guitar held over his head, ready to bring it down on his fucking skull.\n\nSean clenches his jaw and turns away again, looking at the Limp Bizkit poster again. His position's shifted so all he sees in the reflection now are his hands and the guitar, his face and torso hidden in shadows.\n\n\"Alright,\" Sean says finally.\n\nThere's another moment of silence, Sean staring at his guitar's strings and flipping the pick from finger to finger.\n\n\"Sean,\" Derek says. Sean can see him in the reflection of the poster and he raises a hand, holding up his index finger and shaking his head.\n\n\"Just,\" Sean says, pausing to swallow thickly. \"Give me a week or two. Then I'll be gone.\" He drops his hand.\n\nThere's nothing but silence in response, and Sean's thinking Derek's left until he hears him say:\n\n\"I miss him too, bro.\"\n\nSean turns back to the door, but Derek's already gone.\n\n-15-\n\nRick's called Lauren a total of twelve times in the past nine hours, which makes her anxious the entire way back to the apartment after work, her mission objective to pick up some of her and Justin's things and get out, stealthily. She considers calling Rick's job to make sure he actually went in today and she doesn't have to see him when she gets to their place, but she doesn't want anybody to tip him off.\n\nSo, instead, Lauren speeds all the way across town and pulls into their apartment complex with a screech, scanning the area frantically for Rick's Mustang. She doesn't see it anywhere so she parks and hurries upstairs. Each step she takes heightens the tension squeezing her guts until she feels like she's about to pass out, her palms sweaty, face in an involuntary grimace.\n\nInside, though, the apartment is empty. Lauren closes the front door, sighing with relief and taking a moment to get her bearings before she heads to her bedroom, pulling out two suitcases from the closet and filling one with her things and the other with Justin's. She heads downstairs with one of the bags and throws it in her car trunk then heads back upstairs for the other, walking briskly but confidently, glad to be taking some initiative, to be doing something for _herself_.\n\nLauren's thinking she's completely home free as she's wheeling the second suitcase out of the bedroom when there's a click from the front door. The doorknob turns slowly and the door opens, and Lauren finds herself stuck in the hall like a deer as Rick walks in. He seems surprised to see her at first. Then he isn't. His face drops, as do his keys. The sound of them hitting the ground startles her from her daze, frozen in place with one foot raised off the ground right outside their bedroom door.\n\n\"I'm getting some things,\" she says, reflexively.\n\nRick doesn't respond, stepping aside instead as Lauren hurries towards and past him. She avoids his eyes, covertly surveying him out of the corner of hers. He looks extremely old at this moment and—she admits—she feels sorry for him. Really sorry, to the point where she almost turns and hugs him and tells him everything is going to be okay. And she also admits, she misses him a little too, and on some level wishes she could forget what she saw, climb onto the couch next to him and curl up under his arm.\n\nThen the feeling switches and she suddenly feels dumb for feeling sorry for him—for wanting to do _anything_ for him, actually. He brought this on himself.\n\nLauren stops in the doorway and turns to Rick, opening her mouth even though she has no idea what's going to come out.\n\n\"Justin's been asking about you,\" she says finally. \"You should probably come pick him up for the evening.\" Pause, then—with sarcasm—she adds, \"When you get a chance.\" Lauren tilts her head to the side a little, squinting at him. \" _You_ can explain what's going on.\"\n\nRick nods and opens his mouth to respond, then closes it and nods some more. Lauren leaves him standing in the doorway, still nodding, and the entire way downstairs she keeps expecting him to follow. In fact, part of her wants him to, though most of her just wants to get out of here.\n\nLauren gets to her car without incident and throws the last suitcase in the trunk, getting behind the wheel. She sits there for a moment, her hands shaking involuntarily. At one point she sees Rick pull the venetian blinds to the side and peer down at her. There's a moment of eye contact between them which breaks the spell that's come over her. She puts the car in gear, squealing out of the parking lot, her teeth grinding the entire time.\n\nstep five: reassessment\n\n-16-\n\nEighth grade, sixth period P.E., outside on the basketball court. Sean was just as scrawny then as he is now, and even nerdier, always dressing out in a plain white shirt too small for him and green gym shorts too big, the latter only tight around his hips because his Sega Game Gear was perpetually tucked in the waist band. He'd sit in line for attendance every day until Coach finished calling everybody's name, then run behind the cafeteria to play Sonic the Hedgehog 2 while everybody else played actual sports.\n\nThis particular day, Sean was sitting in his spot for all of five minutes—he had just gotten Sonic in a major speed-fest, the little blue ball flying across the screen—when a shadow fell over him. He looked up and saw another boy, the sun creating a halo behind his head so that Sean was literally blinded by his presence.\n\n\"What the hell are you doing?\" the boy asked.\n\nInstead of answering what was clearly a stupid question, Sean just pointed at the Game Gear. The other kid responded by sucking his teeth and reaching down, snatching the Game Gear out of Sean's hand.\n\nWhat Sean remembers most about that move now though is it wasn't hostile. Sean doesn't really know how the kid pulled that off. Sure, he'd met up with bullies before that day. Scrawny, socially awkward kid with large glasses (contacts were still three or four years in Sean's future) and a crooked smile (so were braces)?\n\nBasically a bully magnet.\n\nAnd even though Sean usually stuck up for himself in some way—not going to just take his ass whooping sitting down with a smile on his face—there's only so much a person can do or say against somebody who's twice their size.\n\nThis kid wasn't that much bigger than Sean, but it was obvious he was athletic, which should have automatically added a menacing quality to his snatching of Sean's Game Gear, an impromptu declaration of war. But it wasn't, and it never even occurred to Sean until years later that it could have been.\n\nIt was in the way the kid did it though; he had this curious look on his face the whole time, and he didn't jerk towards Sean when he took it so Sean would have to flinch away and look even more like a bitch. The kid just...took it, simultaneously reaching his other hand out right after and grabbing Sean's, pulling him to his feet and saying:\n\n\"You're never going to get laid like this, man.\"\n\nSean looked at him like he didn't even know getting laid was an _option_ (which he didn't). The kid rolled his eyes and threw an arm around Sean's shoulder, started dragging him towards the basketball court, holding his other hand out to grab Sean's fingers and shake.\n\n\"Leon,\" he said.\n\n\"Sean,\" Sean said nervously, taking his hand back, his entire body tense as they rounded the corner of the building where Sean half-expected a gang of pre-teens to be waiting, ready to beat Sean's ass. Instead, there was one kid, slightly familiar and just as awkward-looking as Sean.\n\n\"Sean,\" Leon said, pointing at the other kid. \"This is Derek.\" He looked at Derek. \"Derek, Sean.\"\n\nDerek nodded, threw up a hand in something resembling a wave, then looked back at Leon.\n\n\"Is this what you called me over here for?\" he asked.\n\nIn response, Leon took a step back and clapped his hands.\n\n\"Here's the deal,\" he said. \"I've been watching the two of you since school started. And both of you are going about this shit all wrong.\"\n\nDerek and Sean glanced at each other, raised eyebrows, then looked back at Leon.\n\n\"What thing?\" Derek asked.\n\n\"Middle school,\" Leon said, then pointed at the sky and smiled wide. \"Life.\"\n\nSean looked up at the sky too then back down at Leon, still having no idea what he was talking about. Leon sighed, shook his head and smiled, tsking like he was talking to two toddlers who just weren't getting it. And Sean felt like one at that moment too, exposed to a part of the world he hadn't experienced before, taking in new sensations and feelings and processing them faster than any conscious mind could keep up with. In the distance, a group of girls banded together, giggling and whispering, the waists of their shorts rolled up so the bottom barely covered the cusps of their butt cheeks as they watched the five-on-five game of basketball taking place near them. On the other side of the field, a group of guys kicked a soccer ball around, trying to see who could keep it in the air longest, while another group of girls crowded around Coach as he explained something, all of them obviously crushing out of their minds.\n\nLeon stood between Sean and Derek, putting a hand on each of their shoulders.\n\n\"I don't want an explanation,\" he said. \"I don't care why you two are nerds.\"\n\n\"I'm not—\" Derek started angrily.\n\n\"All I know,\" Leon said loudly over him. \"Is that today it's going to stop.\" He turned to Sean, looked him up and down and smiled. \"You've got friends now. Two of them.\"\n\n\"I already have friends,\" Sean said weakly, thinking about Kevin, the tiny Puerto Rican kid he sat with during lunch who spent the entire time analyzing the merits and pitfalls of hentai VHS's (Japanese anime porn) he copped from his older cousin, getting pissed when Sean didn't know what the hell he was ranting about.\n\n\"Friends the same age as you,\" Leon continued, ignoring Sean. \"Friends with most of the same classes as you. Friends who have your back, who will fight with you, fight _for_ you. Friends with the same _goals_ as you.\"\n\nLeon paused after this last part with his mouth half open, nodding and looking at each of them like he was waiting for a response.\n\nSean glanced at Derek.\n\n\"What goals?\" he asked.\n\n\"Pussy,\" Leon said triumphantly, then shrugged. \"And other things. But mostly pussy.\"\n\nUp until that point, Sean had never met anybody that blunt before, and was immediately uncomfortable. Leon either didn't notice or didn't care though, just patted Sean on the back and stared at him until Sean finally looked him in his eye, then nodded and repeated:\n\n\"Pussy.\"\n\nEverything after that was basically a blur, as Leon started giving Sean and Derek the details on where they'd meet the next morning, where Leon sat during lunch and with whom—an impressive roster including two cheerleaders, a star soccer player, a starter on the basketball team, and the resident graffiti artist—and the entire time Sean kept thinking _this guy is going to fuck us over, this is some kind of sick joke, somebody's going to come up behind me and get me in a headlock any minute now_.\n\nBut nobody ever came, and nothing bad happened. And when they walked back into the locker room, talking and laughing—Sean and Derek sufficiently relaxed and totally open to a potential attack—still nobody came and nothing bad happened. And as the bell rang and Leon pounded Sean and Derek's fists and disappeared into the sea of other students filling the hallways, Derek and Sean glanced at each other like they'd both just seen the same vision of Big Foot. They tried to do the same fist pound that Leon had given them, but it was awkward in a way it hadn't been with Leon around. And Sean knew then that Leon would be the glue that held that little group together.\n\nIt wasn't until way later that night that Sean realized Leon had stolen his Game Gear. He gave it back the next day—telling an irate Sean that he'd \"just borrowed it, bro, that's what friends do\"—but Sean never really knew if that was the motive behind their initial encounter. And he still doesn't. It makes Sean wonder sometimes what would have happened if he hadn't had the Sega Game Gear on him that day. Whether or not Leon would have just gone on being himself, apart from them. How different Sean's life would have been in the long run.\n\nHe thinks about things like that a lot actually, especially as of late. Sean remembers even conjuring up something resembling anger at Leon's funeral, the emotion peeking through the cracks of drug-induced apathy and leading Sean to curse Leon's name while standing next to his grave after everybody had left, holding a half empty six-pack of Bud Light with the faint sound of pills in a bottle clacking against each other in his pocket.\n\nThe emotion was and is always short-lived though. Regardless of how they met, Leon was Sean's best friend, almost as much a brother to him as Marcus is.\n\nBut still—Sean thinks now as he drives the last load of his things to his parents' house, away from what is now Derek and Kristina's apartment—people meet and bond in the weirdest ways sometimes. And you can never seem to know when and where it will happen.\n\nOr when and where it will abruptly end.\n\n-17-\n\nLauren opens her eyes to the vaulted ceiling in her bedroom and waits for reality to push her dreams back into oblivion. Justin lies next to her, on the inside so that the wall blocks him from rolling off the bed. His foot twitches a little against her thigh, his thumb jammed in his mouth up to the palm. She wants to touch his face and hair, but she's afraid she'll wake him up, and she's not ready to be Mommy right now. Right now—7 am—is her time.\n\nLauren's bedroom looks exactly the way it did when she moved out four years ago, which is to say that the Usher poster from his _Confessions_ album is still above her dresser, the bulletin board next to her door is still plastered with pictures from her senior homecoming, prom, and graduation, and the reproduction of Van Gogh's \"Starry Night\" is still framed above her desk. Her bookcase is still filled with all the books she read in high school, and her closet still holds all her pep-rally t-shirts, party dresses, and formal gowns. It's a regular blast from the past in here, only the past wasn't all that long ago. So what she feels in her old bedroom isn't simple nostalgia. Lauren _remembers_ these moments in her life, some of them so vividly that they still hurt or excite her almost as much as they did back then.\n\nThis is the primary reason she hasn't set foot in this room more than she's had to ever since she had Justin. Because it's hard to imagine herself as a married mother when she's in here. In here, she's still eighteen, getting ready to start FIU and upset that she couldn't go out of town for school. Back then that was her primary problem: having to go to college in her hometown. She wishes that's all she had to worry about now.\n\nIt's been a week since Rick stopped calling.\n\nTwo days ago he came to pick up Justin for the night and Lauren hid in her room, feeling like a teenager all over again while her mom took care of getting her son out to his father. Lauren doesn't know what her mother said to him during that interaction, but there was a bit of yelling from what she could hear, and then suddenly her mom was in the room with her.\n\n\"You shouldn't be letting your son leave with him,\" she said, and Lauren could almost see steam coming from her ears.\n\n\"He's Rick's son too, Mom,\" Lauren replied, peeking out the window and watching Rick's Mustang pull out of the driveway. \"I can't keep them apart.\"\n\n\"Like hell you can't,\" she said. \"He's not a good husband, what makes you think he can be a good father?\"\n\nLauren turned to her, crossing her arms and studying her mother's flushed face.\n\n\"Those two roles are not codependent, Mom,\" she said.\n\n\"They are one and the same,\" her mother said, and at that point Lauren knew her mom wasn't just talking about her and Rick anymore.\n\nLauren paused for a moment, considering whether or not she wanted to move forward with this conversation.\n\n\"Dad was an amazing father, Mom,\" Lauren said finally, a lot louder than she intended. She immediately regretted it when her mother looked at her like she'd just spit in her face, then stormed out of the room. Lauren spent the rest of the night and most of the next morning waiting for Rick to drop Justin back; partly because she missed her son, partly because she knew Justin's presence would be the easiest way to get her mom talking to her again.\n\nLauren felt bad about bringing up her father, at first. But part of her felt like her mom deserved it for making such an inane suggestion. No matter what's going on between her and Rick, she would never deny Justin his father. It's not like Justin did anything wrong, and she doesn't see why this situation should affect him any more than it has to.\n\nWith all the commotion going on these past few weeks though, it's only these early morning moments that have allowed Lauren to do any serious pondering on the subject of her and Rick's estrangement. And through all the thoughts, the only viable conclusion she's come to is she's not actually mad at Rick. Not anymore at least.\n\nIt's almost like—with that slap she gave him in his boss's office and the subsequent encounter at the apartment while picking up her clothes—she exhausted her rage.\n\nTruth be told, even when Lauren smacked him, the only thing she was really mad about was the humiliation. There's an element of pride involved in being in a committed relationship, pride that's battered when one of the people involved chooses to look outside of the relationship for intimacy. It hurt Lauren to know that there was something unsatisfactory about a relationship she was a part of. It seemed then, in some deep part of her psyche, that there was something wrong with _both_ of them that had allowed her husband to be alright with the notion of infidelity. Not just him.\n\nIt's not like Lauren's delusional though. She doesn't think for a second that this is her fault. But she also knows Rick, and he's not a bad guy. Dim, but overall normal. Which means—as she's figured out over the past couple of weeks of introspection—that Rick probably feels the same way about his life right now as she does: like three years ago they both fell into something neither one of them particularly knew how to handle. And now they're both suffering the consequences of inexperience.\n\nLauren watches Justin sleep some more, then stares at the ceiling, then it's back to Justin again, all the time wondering where this is all going. She can't stay living in her childhood bedroom at her mother's house. Not with her son and no plan for the future. She wants to figure this out. She has to figure this out. More than anything.\n\nThe feeling of being pressured rises in Lauren right then, bringing her stomach up with it, and within seconds she feels like she's in a rollercoaster drop, everything inside her turning into zero-gravity mush. It's an oddly familiar sensation, and before she realizes what's going on, she's in the bathroom, bent over the toilet and hacking up the remains of the grilled chicken and mashed potato dinner her mother cooked last night. She lies on the bathroom floor moaning for another minute before—as abruptly as it came—the nausea disappears, replaced by an icy stone of recognition in her gut, which she puts in a very tightly sealed box of denial.\n\nLauren returns to her bedroom and—careful not to wake Justin—lies on the bed again. The nausea returns a few minutes later, but she closes her eyes and wills it away, along with the feelings and thoughts, focusing on the fact that she has to start getting ready for work in a few minutes.\n\nSoon Lauren gets up, gets dressed, wakes Justin, gets him dressed, goes downstairs and says good morning to her mother, pretends to eat a bagel (but really just takes one bite, gags, then discretely tosses it in the trash), feeds Justin, then says goodbye to her mother and son and walks out the front door.\n\nLauren does all this without letting on that anything's wrong. Because there _isn't_ anything wrong, she tells herself. She drives to work on US-1, listening to Power 96 and nodding her head to the music, turning the radio up when her thoughts try to intrude. When she reaches work, she walks inside and back to the pharmacy—smiling and waving at Steve and Janice, the morning cashier—then puts on her coat and sits in front of the fresh stack of prescriptions. She doesn't indicate that there's anything different about herself, because there is nothing different, aside from the estranged husband. And she's got that under control.\n\nAbout an hour after sitting on her stool, another wave of nausea hits her again and she leaves a pill bottle half-full on the counter, speed-walking into the bathroom and barely making it to the toilet before she's bent over it, dry heaving. Only then does the padlocked box of denial get blasted open. Without a word to anybody—not even so much as eye contact—Lauren walks out of the bathroom, up to the family planning aisle, grabs the first pregnancy test she sees and locks herself back inside the same stall she just threw up in. The same stall she took this same brand of pregnancy test in three and a half years ago.\n\nTen minutes later the stick in her hand is sporting two blue lines, and she can't help but think how it's the indicators in people's lives that affect them the most. When she reminisces on the upheaval that was her first pregnancy (her mind's hasty addition of the qualifier \"first\" to her last pregnancy is not lost on her), the most emotional moment that comes to mind isn't the nine months of expanding belly, or the swollen ankles, or the mood swings, or the warmth of the epidural, or that final wonderful release as Justin came into the world.\n\nWhen Lauren looks back on that time period, it's those two lines on the pregnancy tests that pop into her mind. She remembers sitting in the bathroom then as she is now, hands shaking faintly, the white tiled floor a stark contrast to the bright blue lines glaring up at her and telling her so many things she didn't want to hear. She remembers thinking that it seemed so unnatural for two simple lines—mere geometric symbols—to be able to have so much power.\n\nAnd here she is again, sitting in the bathroom at her job staring at the same lines that are effectively screaming at her, _you did it again!_\n\nLauren ponders getting another test, just to be sure. But she's suddenly so, so tired, and really there's no point. She knows it's true. She knew the moment she threw up earlier this morning. In fact—now that she thinks about it—she's knows for days. All the signs were there: sore breasts, chocolate cravings, peanut cravings, rum and raisin ice cream cravings, and a newfound fascination with _Everybody Loves Raymond_ (she hates that damn show, yet every time it's on now—which is seemingly 24 hours a day on one channel or another—she finds herself drawn to it, even if it's just to criticize it, which totally stresses her out and yet she can't seem to stop).\n\nLauren walks slowly back out to the counter where the prescription she was filling sits waiting. Ironically (to her, at least) she notices it's for Cialis, the main competitor of Viagra. She brushes the tan tablets with the index finger of her latex-gloved right hand.\n\nAt the register, there's an old woman purchasing her prescription. Lauren watches her grab her receipt and waddle away, wondering what she sees when she looks back at the landscape of her life. If she can even _see_ the landscape, if it's even that organized in retrospect or if life always remains this conglomeration of images and emotions with no order or meaning other than the moment at hand. Lauren doesn't know which thought is more depressing.\n\nSean's face pops into Lauren's head and suddenly she's thinking about their encounter, about the one night almost a month ago when she'd been his and he'd been hers. She tries to remember if he used a condom but all she can seem to remember is the left corner of his mouth, the way it rose first when he smiled, slowly leading the rest of his mouth into the expression. She'd like to think her basic safety instincts would've kicked in no matter how inebriated she was, and that she would've forced him to wear protection. But she knows herself, and she was drunk and pissed off. Anything could have happened, as evidenced by her sleeping with Sean in the first place.\n\nAnd besides, regardless of how the situation played out, the fact remains that she's pregnant. Which is the only fact that really matters.\n\nShe's pregnant.\n\n\"I'm pregnant,\" she whispers.\n\n\"You say something?\"\n\nLauren jumps, turning to Steve whose face looks sickly against the whiteness of the walls and counters and tile all around her in the pharmacy, the bleached cleanliness of it all.\n\n\"Nothing,\" she says, fighting back another wave of nausea.\n\nSteve raises an eyebrow and turns back to his computer. By the register, Janice is flipping through the latest issue of _US Weekly_ and Lauren's struck with a huge sense of déjà vu. Just days ago—hours ago, even—she'd been staring at that same magazine and worrying about her and Rick's future, how Justin would take it in the long run if Rick and her remained separated. Now she's wondering what she's going to do for the next eight or so months, all thoughts of Rick's infidelity dashed from her mind, almost like an unrelated joke made in the moments after a tragedy. All irrelevant now, nothing mattering but what's growing inside her. Again. She can feel the paradigm shift happening even now, her anger subsiding, giving way to a familiar protective instinct.\n\nLauren drifts through the rest of her workday, and before she knows it, she's back at her mother's house, standing in the kitchen with her purse slung over her shoulder, watching her mom as she sits with Justin at the dining table and tries to get him to eat cut up pieces of barbecue chicken without smearing sauce all over his face and hair (which Lauren's already told her mom is impossible and if she doesn't want to clean barbecue sauce out of a toddler's hair she shouldn't put barbecue sauce on the toddler's food, but her mother loves to act like she didn't give birth to and raise two kids of her own).\n\nSeeing her in this position though, Lauren can't break the news to her. The scene is too lovely, almost heartbreaking in a way. Lauren's mother loves being a grandmother to Justin, and Lauren loves being his mother. She doesn't want to take any attention away from that right now.\n\nHer mother notices her and turns, smiles. Lauren smiles back.\n\n\"I'm going to take a shower,\" she says.\n\n\"Ok, baby,\" her mother says, plastic spoon floating in front of Justin's face. \"Everything okay?\"\n\nJustin giggles and Lauren watches him with a smile painted painfully on her face.\n\n\"Fine,\" she says. \"Everything's awesome.\"\n\n\"That's good,\" she says absently, turning back to Justin. \"Relax a little, I'll finish up with him down here.\"\n\nLauren nods and heads upstairs to the bathroom, stripping down to nothing and standing under the showerhead. She turns the faucet on, then keeps twisting it until the water is piping hot, her skin turning red, steam rising and filling the bathroom, blocking out everything like darkness. Eventually she can't tell if she's crying or if the heat's just irritating her eyes. Either way, it hurts. Either way, she doesn't want to get out of the shower. Ever. She wants to let the hot water get hotter and the bathroom get steamier until she's enveloped in a comfortable cloud of nothingness.\n\nBut things don't happen like that in real life. Ten minutes after she gets in the shower, she hears Justin wailing outside the bathroom door, and she knows it's Mommy-time.\n\nLauren towels off and gets dressed, grabs her son and goes to her room to sit with him in front of the TV and watch Spongebob. After a few minutes, she leans towards him and touches the side of his head. He looks up at her with sleepy eyes and a smile. Lauren smiles back, pulling him closer to her.\n\n\"Baby,\" she says, caressing the back of his head. \"I'm pregnant.\"\n\nBecause the first person she wants to tell is the only person she knows for a fact won't judge her. Justin keeps smiling, reaching up and touching her cheek. She closes her eyes and feels his tiny fingers brush against her skin, willing back the tears she knows will only scare him away.\n\n-18-\n\nTen AM Saturday morning, Yellowman (reggae artist who got his name from being an albino black dude; you ever see an albino black dude, you'll know where the \"Yellow\" in \"Yellowman\" comes from) suddenly blasts from the living room into Sean's dreams, blaring so loud he damn near pisses himself as he falls out of bed and bangs his head against his night stand.\n\nJumping up—wearing nothing but his underwear, sleep lines crisscrossing his face—Sean storms into the living room and there's his dad, hairy paunch out with his heavy mustache twitching every few seconds as he chews on a toothpick. He's in his underwear too, TV on mute, ESPN highlights flashing across the screen while he messes around on his phone (Sean had to have gotten it from somebody).\n\nHis dad ignores him for a minute and Sean can tell he's trying not to smile. Sean is definitely _not_ experiencing the same issue.\n\n\"Morning,\" his dad says finally.\n\n\"Really?\" Sean says, and his dad ignores him so Sean turns away, but not before he sees the back end of his dad's smirk.\n\nSaturday mornings obviously haven't changed around here.\n\nSean can paint the picture in his mind without even walking through the house: his mom will be in her room right now, cutting coupons out of the newspaper to prepare for her weekly expedition to the grocery store; Marcus will stay passed out until at least noon—Sean swears the bastard can sleep through a hurricane—and his dad will blast his goddamn music until Sean's mom gets aggravated, comes out and tells him to cut the shit. And everybody listens to Mom.\n\nSean hasn't lived in this house in six years, and yet the ritual still annoys the hell out of him.\n\nHe rubs his sleep-stung cheeks and walks into the bathroom, brushes his teeth, washes his face, then goes back in his room and throws on some shorts and heads to his mom's room, where she's got last week Sunday's newspaper in one hand, a pair of scissors in the other.\n\n\"Mom,\" Sean whines. \"Does he have to do this _every_ weekend?\"\n\nShe looks up, scanning him from head to toe before looking back down at the newspaper.\n\n\"You shouldn't be sleeping so late anyways,\" she says.\n\nNo surprise there. Sean lies back on her bed and sighs, staring at the ceiling and listening to the snip of his mom's scissors. He sits like that for a few minutes, thinking about everything until he finally flips onto his side and stares at his mom.\n\n\"You sure it's okay that I'm here right now?\" Sean asks.\n\n\"Where?\" she says, slicing away an errant corner.\n\n\"Here,\" Sean says, motioning around the room. \"Back home.\"\n\n\"Why wouldn't it be?\"\n\n\"Because,\" he says, shrugging. \"I don't know. I'm back _home_.\"\n\n\"Still not getting what the problem is,\" she says, shaking her head.\n\n\"The problem is I'm twenty-five,\" Sean says. \"And I haven't lived at home since I was eighteen. And all of a sudden I'm back. Broke and in debt.\"\n\nHis mom shrugs.\n\n\"Doesn't that bother you even a little?\" Sean asks.\n\n\"The debt part is a little worrisome,\" she says. \"But you can stay here until you get back on your feet.\" She reaches over and pats his leg. \"We're glad to have you back, Honey.\"\n\n\"You might be,\" he says, glancing at the bedroom door. \"I doubt Dad is.\"\n\n\"Your father's thrilled,\" she says, sticking her bottom lip out.\n\n\"Yeah, right.\"\n\n\"He is.\"\n\nSean lets the silence marinate for a minute, acting like he's calm even though inside he's pissed as hell and has no idea why.\n\n\"So you're trying to tell me you both are glad that I moved back here?\"\n\n\"Yup.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"We missed you,\" she says, smiling again.\n\n\"Yeah, but I'm your twenty-five year old reject son who can't find a real job and had to move back in because he couldn't afford his apartment anymore on a shitty bartender's salary.\"\n\n\"Language,\" she says, clipping away another strip of paper. \"And don't call yourself a reject.\"\n\n\"I just don't know how you guys could actually be _happy_ I'm back here,\" he says.\n\n\"I just told you,\" she says, and the tone of her voice indicates she's getting aggravated. \"We missed you. What's your problem?\"\n\n\"I just,\" Sean says, then groans. \"It shouldn't be okay. You guys shouldn't be happy. _Nobody_ should be happy. I should be hearing about how this isn't right and I'm irresponsible or something. But I've been here for weeks now and you guys haven't said a word to me about it.\" Sean pauses, then adds quietly, \"you're making it too easy.\"\n\n\"Well,\" she says. \"You're responsible enough as far as I see it. You went to school, got your degree, and now times are hard so you need our help.\" She lowers her scissors and looks at him over the top of her glasses. \"That's what family's for. We're helping. We're happy to.\"\n\n\"My degree,\" Sean says, realizing suddenly where the anger's coming from and knowing he'll never be able to explain it to her in a way she'll understand. \"Right.\"\n\n\"Have you been looking into the graduate program?\" she asks, glancing at the calendar on her bedside table. \"Deadlines are coming soon.\"\n\nSean stares at her and tries to say something, but he knows anything that comes out right now is going to start an argument, so he just shakes his head, hops up and walks out of the room—intending to go reason with his dad—when Marcus's room door opens and he walks out in front of Sean.\n\n\"Dude, stop,\" he says.\n\n\"Stop what?\"\n\n\"I know what you're doing,\" he says. \"You've been at this shit for days.\" He gives me a pleading look. \"Let it go, man. Before they come to their senses.\"\n\nMarcus's eyes are level with Sean's, and he raises an eyebrow, nodding in the direction of Sean's room. Sean grunts and walks past him, pausing for a moment and considering going to argue with his dad anyways. He glances back at Marcus who's still standing there with that pleading look in his face, so Sean rolls his eyes and walks into his room, slamming the door and leaning against it. Glimpsing his guitar, he picks it up and plops down on the bed with it lying across his chest and starts strumming out Green Day's \"When I Come Around,\" grumbling to himself until the motion of his hands holding the pick and pressing the strings finally calms him down.\n\nSean's old bedroom's been transformed from his dad's office back to almost exactly the way it was before he left for college, complete with bed, desk, dresser, and TV stand, as if his parents had known he would eventually have to move back in and have just been biding their time. Sean looks around and starts to get aggravated again, so he looks back at his guitar, switching fingers to a new chord and playing Nirvana's \"Lithium.\"\n\nFor a couple of weeks now the guitar's been the only form of consolation he's had. The only time he's really been happy is with it in his hand, or while he's at his computer searching Google for song tabs (song tabs: numbered method people use to transcribe their favorite songs; basically each finger is numbered 1-5 and put on six lines divided into cross sections which correspond with the string and frets. When you first see a tabbed song, it looks like a cross between piano notes and a math problem) and tips, learning about power chords and strumming techniques and generally playing until his fingers are close to bleeding, letting them blister and heal then messing them up all over again.\n\nBut even now Sean can tell this will eventually lose steam. He still loves it at this moment, and he's gotten so used to the feel of the polished wood against his stomach that when it's gone, he feels naked, and not in a good way.\n\nBut Sean's getting restless. There's something about his newfound hobby that deserves more than just him lying around strumming 90's grunge and punk hits. Something growing, something that was planted in him over a year ago at Leon's funeral. A desire for something more than the norm, something that could make him feel like he's actually doing something with his life.\n\nThat's the true source of his anger, now that he thinks about it. He's not doing anything significant— _hasn't_ done anything significant, ever; never even had the _ambition_ to do something significant—and nobody seems to give a shit but him.\n\nSean sits up, stares at his guitar, the strings already duller than they were when he bought the thing. He brings his right hand up to his face, stares at his fingertips then rubs them across his cheek, the rough calluses scratching against his skin.\n\nJust learning to play the guitar isn't going to be enough. Every douche at FSU with a bag of weed and a pair of sandals had a guitar when Sean was an undergrad. There's nothing unique about it. But, Sean thinks, there are unique things a person can do with a skill like that. The thought pushes the epiphany he's been on the verge of having for days now closer to the point of realization.\n\nSean jumps off the bed and hops over to his computer, opening up iTunes and checking through the massive number of playlists he's assembled: music from over 800 musicians, everything from hip hop to R&B to reggae to rock, a shitload of rock: Alien Ant Farm, Foo Fighters, Slipknot, Korn, Yellowcard, tons more. Music he's listened to, practically studied. But what Sean focuses on is the playlist at the bottom of the screen, titled \"Songs I've Learned.\" Twenty songs on the list, and steadily growing.\n\nWith this much background in music, it'd be stupid not to utilize it in some way.\n\nAnd the only way Sean sees to do that is to start a band.\n\nHis eyebrows rise and the smile that breaks across his face is so wide it hurts.\n\n\"I'm going to start a band,\" he says out loud, then looks down at his guitar and proceeds to belt out the shittiest version of Everclear's \"Santa Monica\" ever played.\n\nOk, first he's going to learn how to play his guitar without sounding like that.\n\n_Then_ he's going to start a band.\n\nSean stands up and walks out of his bedroom, goes down the hall to his brother's room and knocks on his door. Marcus yells over his music for him to come in and Sean steps into a room that's darker than a homeless dude's asshole, with the exception of the one black light in the corner, the purpose of which seems to be to show just how disgusting his brother's room actually is. Sean looks at the clock over his brother's TV: one in the afternoon. The sun's trying to peek through Marcus's blinds, but he's got the damn things taped shut against the wall surrounding his window.\n\nMarcus's sitting at his desk, on his computer, Internet Explorer open to Dictionary.com, techno music blaring from his speakers. Sean's guessing these are his obsessions of the week. Or day. Or hour. Last Tuesday, Sean came in here to chat and Marcus was blasting Kid Cudi and downloading bikini pictures of that girl from _Big Bang Theory_.\n\nMarcus turns the music down, glancing at Sean then back at his computer.\n\n\"What's up?\"\n\n\"Nothing,\" Sean says, nonchalantly. \"Just starting a band.\"\n\nMarcus scratches his chin, mouth open dumbly.\n\n\"A band?\" he says.\n\n\"Yeah,\" Sean says. \"A rock band.\"\n\n\"I get the concept,\" he says. \"With who?\"\n\n\"Haven't figured that out yet.\"\n\n\"What's the name?\"\n\n\"I don't know,\" Sean says, shrugging. \"Whatever.\"\n\nMarcus taps his lip, thoughtful, then rolls his eyes.\n\n\"Fine,\" he says. \"I'm in.\"\n\n\"Yeah, right,\" Sean says, laughing with a snort.\n\nMarcus gives him a hurt look, and Sean can't tell if he's serious or not.\n\n\"You can't even play anything,\" Sean says.\n\n\"Yeah I can.\"\n\n\"Really?\" Sean says. \"What?\"\n\nMarcus points at the computer.\n\n\"Your computer,\" Sean says.\n\nMarcus nods and Sean squints, confused.\n\n\"You can play your computer,\" Sean repeats. \"Is that supposed to make sense?\"\n\n\"You do realize this is 2012, right?\" Marcus says, chuckling.\n\n\"Still not following,\" Sean says, scratching his head.\n\n\"You ever heard of dub step?\"\n\n\"Is that what this crap is?\" Sean says, pointing at his speakers.\n\n\"You are so old,\" Marcus says.\n\n\"Screw you.\"\n\n\"Dub step,\" Marcus says. \"Drum and bass. House music. Electronica. Half of the music you listen to all the time. Trent Reznor made like an entire Nine Inch Nails album in his freaking basement by himself using mostly computer programs.\"\n\n\"You listen to Nine Inch Nails?\" Sean says, curling his lip.\n\n\"Yeah,\" he says, shrugging. \"Sometimes.\"\n\n\"I can't even begin to explain how before your time that is,\" Sean says.\n\n\"Fuck you,\" he says. \"You listen to the Beatles, and that's before _Mom's_ time.\"\n\n\"The Beatles are timeless,\" Sean say, straight faced and serious.\n\n\"My point is,\" Marcus says, waving Sean off and motioning towards his computer speakers, the techno music still playing on low volume. \"Half the guys that make this shit have never played an actual instrument in their life. It's _all_ electronic today.\"\n\n\"I have absolutely no idea how to do any of that,\" Sean says.\n\nIn response, Marcus turns to his computer, clicks the mouse and the music shuts off, then he clicks it a couple more times and a program opens up on his screen with a bunch of lights and switches and a sound wave monitor on top. Marcus glances at Sean, smiles then presses more buttons and soon there's the booming of a bass drum. He nods his head to the beat, presses another button and a snare drum pops in, then a cymbal, and soon it's like an orchestra's playing through his speakers. He adds in some other sounds, piano music and Sean thinks he hears a flute and finally he holds his hand up.\n\n\"Ok, ok,\" Sean yells. \"I get it.\" Marcus turns off the music and Sean puts his hands down. \"You taught yourself to do that?\"\n\n\"It's a computer program,\" he says. \"Not much teaching involved. You press a button and it makes a sound. Cut the middle man out, you know?\"\n\n\"The middle man being somebody playing an actual instrument,\" Sean says.\n\n\"Exactly.\"\n\n\"It's official,\" Sean says. \"We're not in the same generation.\"\n\n\"Fuck you,\" he says.\n\n\"You can actually play that thing?\" Sean asks. \"Like...live?\"\n\n\"Hook it up to some speakers and I don't see why not.\"\n\nSean sits back, cracks his knuckles. The thought is intriguing. It's not like Sean knows any local musicians. And he's not Trent Reznor. He wants to do this, but he can't do it alone. Marcus is his brother. If he can't trust him to take this seriously, he can't trust anybody.\n\nSean thinks about that for a second and comes to the conclusion that he can't trust anybody. But screw it.\n\n\"Fine,\" he says. \"You're in, but you're only playing the drums. I need to find somebody else to play bass. I'm not going to be the one idiot in a two man band playing guitar while you're back there conducting a fucking symphony.\"\n\nMarcus opens his mouth to retort but Sean's phone rings. He pulls it out and doesn't recognize the number. Pressing Talk, he puts the phone to his ear and, somehow, he knows who it is even before he hears her voice.\n\n\"Hi, Sean,\" she says. \"It's Lauren. Listen...we need to talk.\"\n\n-19-\n\nThis past month is there in Lauren's mind when Sean says hello. Lying on her bed at her mother's, listening to Justin downstairs as he giggles at whatever her mom's doing, Lauren thinks about how long it's been since she spoke to Sean, and it's all she can do not to hang up and forget it all.\n\n\"Lauren,\" Sean says skeptically. For a second she's humiliated by the idea that he might not remember who she is. It _was_ a one night stand after all. She wouldn't blame him. Then recognition enters his voice. \" _Lauren_. Hi, hello. What's up? Wow, how are you?\"\n\nThere's an obvious energy in his voice which calms her for some reason.\n\n\"Fine,\" she says. \"Listen, can we meet up?\"\n\n\"Meet up,\" he repeats.\n\n\"Yes,\" she says. \"To talk.\" She opens her mouth to elaborate, but she's got nothing so she stays quiet.\n\n\"Talk,\" Sean says, and Lauren finds herself getting aggravated. Like...he should know why she's calling goddammit.\n\n\"Yes,\" she says. \"Talk. Hang out. Catch up.\"\n\nThere's a long moment of silence after that, and she's actually scared for a second that he's going to turn her down. She can't really tell, either, if she's scared because she needs to tell him that she's pregnant or if she's scared because she doesn't want to be rejected. The feeling's odd, almost exhilarating.\n\n\"Ok,\" he says finally. \"When?\"\n\n\"Are you free tonight?\" Lauren asks.\n\n\"Uh, well.\" He makes a clucking sound with his tongue. \"Yeah, I guess. I mean, yeah. I'm free.\"\n\n\"Ok, where do you want to meet?\" he asks.\n\n\"You called me,\" he says, chuckling then quickly adding, \"Don't you have somewhere?\"\n\n\"No, not particularly.\" She pauses. \"Wherever's most convenient for you. I'll meet you there.\"\n\n\"Ok,\" Sean says. \"You know TGI Fridays in the Falls?\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" she says. \"Eight o'clock ok with you?\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" Sean says. He sounds very tired, and Lauren wonders for a moment what's been going on in his life recently. She wonders if there are any developments he's had to deal with in the past month since their little tryst that would maybe rival her own trials and tribulations. She doubts it, but it would be interesting to know either way. She almost asks him, and imagines circumstances where she wasn't going to this restaurant just to tell this stranger she's pregnant with his baby.\n\nIn the imagined situation, she's meeting up with him to tell him about who she is, who she wants to be and who she thinks he can be for her, hoping to hear the same things back from him. The thought is pleasant but depressing, a melancholy consideration she brushes away like crumbs found from an amazing meal eaten long ago. She doesn't know Sean, but she realizes now what his initial appeal to her was: the newness and freeness he represented. Sean has his own problems, undoubtedly, but he isn't beleaguered by the same issues Lauren is. Which automatically made—makes—him an attractive prospect. But now, tonight, he's about to be beleaguered.\n\nA whole heap of beleaguered.\n\nLauren hangs up and lies on the bed for what seems like forever, quarter-sized clouds drifting across her vision in the otherwise flawless Miami sky. Eventually Justin waddles into the room and tries to climb on the bed—a feat which could prove disastrous—so Lauren stands, picks him up then goes downstairs to act like the decent, heartbroken daughter she's supposed to be, all the while mentally preparing to completely change the life of a man she barely knows.\n\n-20-\n\nSean hangs up the phone and stares at it until Marcus clears his throat.\n\n\"Who's Lauren?\" he asks.\n\n\"Who?\" Sean says, too loudly, then shakes his head. \"Nobody. Just—some girl. This girl I met. A while ago. Don't worry about it. What were we talking about?\"\n\nMarcus eyes him suspiciously, amused.\n\n\"You were talking about calling Derek and asking him to be in our band.\"\n\nSean opens his mouth to tell Marcus hell no, but Marcus is looking at him so innocently he can't. Sean frowns, turns away. Of course he's already thought of Derek, like five seconds after he thought of the band. Ever since, he's been pushing the idea away. Sean really doesn't know any other musicians though.\n\nDerek's been calling Sean every other day since Sean moved out, trying to hang out and act like they're still the same type of friends they were before he kicked Sean out of his own apartment. Sean keeps saying there's no way in hell he's letting this slide, but the longer he's in his parent's house and enjoying the benefits of not having to worry about rent, the less pissed he is at Derek. Which is, in itself, pissing him off.\n\n\"No,\" he says to Marcus. \"No way in hell.\"\n\n\"Bro,\" Marcus says, leaning back in his chair. \"Get over it.\"\n\n\"No,\" Sean says, aware he sounds like a brat.\n\n\"I'm glad he kicked you out,\" Marcus says.\n\n\"I'm glad to hear,\" Sean mutters.\n\n\"Come on, Sean,\" Marcus says, throwing his hands up. \"You needed a change. Everybody saw how screwed up you were, Derek was just the only one who did something about it.\"\n\nSean thinks about his family having conversations about him being screwed up and frowns, clenching his fists.\n\n\"So you all have been talking behind my back too?\" he says.\n\n\"Who _doesn't_ talk behind people's backs?\" Marcus sighs. \"I hate when people say that. It's so dumb. It makes it sound like such a bad thing, but everybody can't be everywhere all the time, and people talk. It's like\"—he shrugs and leans forward in his chair—\"just what people do. You think I don't know Mom talks to you about me whenever I'm not around?\"\n\nSean opens his mouth to retort but Marcus keeps staring at him, never breaking eye contact. Sean finally turns away, shaking his head.\n\n\"Sometimes,\" he says. \"You are too fucking smart for your own good.\"\n\n\"Impossible,\" Marcus says, grinning and turning back to his computer. \"Call Derek, man. And let me know when you want to practice.\"\n\nSean heads back to his room, picks up his guitar and puts the strap around his neck. He's about to play when he decides instead to just call Derek now and get this shit over with.\n\nSean picks up the phone and dials, and the moment the phone rings he realizes he's more nervous than he's been in a very long time, more nervous than he was five minutes ago when he was on the phone with Lauren.\n\nDerek answers on the third ring, sounding cautious.\n\n\"Hello?\" he says.\n\n\"Hey,\" Sean says.\n\n\"Hey,\" Derek says.\n\nThe moment of silence that follows is so oppressive it makes Sean's skin prickle, and he racks his brain for something to say, some sort of segue into a conversation.\n\n\"You want to play bass in my band?\" he practically yells.\n\n\"Sure,\" Derek says.\n\nSean hears something fall in the background and the phone lets out a bunch of static like Derek's fumbling around with it, then he gets back on the line.\n\n\"When do we start?\" he asks.\n\nSean thinks about it for a second.\n\n\"Tomorrow,\" he says. \"Ten AM, my parent's garage.\"\n\n\"Cool,\" Derek says.\n\n\"Thanks,\" Sean says.\n\n\"Sean?\"\n\n\"Yeah?\"\n\nLong pause, then:\n\n\"Good to hear from you, bro.\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" Sean says, nodding. \"You too, bro.\"\n\nSean hangs up and—with all _that_ potential drama avoided—his mind goes right back to Lauren, and it finally hits him that she just basically asked him out on a date. Turning out to be a better day than he originally thought when he fell out of bed an hour ago.\n\nSean turns to the large mirror above his dresser, flexes his arms and smiles. Then he really looks at himself—like, _really_ looks at himself—and his face drops. He's wearing FSU basketball shorts and he's shirtless. The skin on his legs is ashy, like there's a layer of chalk dust from knees to ankles. There's a stain—pizza sauce, he thinks—on the bottom left corner of his shorts about three inches in diameter. He's way past the 5:00 shadow point of facial hair, and since he stopped putting a razor to his head a month ago, he actually needs a trim now.\n\nSean sighs, grabbing his car keys and walking into the living room. His dad's still sitting there with the TV on, though the music's off now. He's passed out, taking his weekly Saturday afternoon nap, which always seems to happen like three hours after he wakes up, which kind of makes Sean wonder why the hell he woke up in the first place.\n\nHis dad opens his eyes as Sean opens the front door, startled.\n\n\"Where you going?\" he asks.\n\n\"Out,\" Sean says. \"Barber shop.\"\n\nHis dad nods, looking back at the TV and turning up the volume, like he never stopped watching. On screen they're showing NASCAR highlights.\n\n\"Have fun,\" his dad says.\n\n\"Loads,\" Sean says, and even though he says it sarcastically, he's starting to think he actually will.\n\n-21-\n\nLauren pulls onto US-1, then immediately cuts across traffic to the left turning lane for a u-turn, intent on going back and hiding in her mother's house. Horns honk, lights flash, and cars swerve around her. Her leg jitters against the brake, her fingers involuntarily tapping against the steering wheel until she realizes what she's doing and forces herself to stop.\n\nClosing her eyes, she tells herself that this will not kill her. She'll be fine. Sean is another human being. Just a man, a man who has every right to know he might be a father in roughly eight months. Only then is she able to put her right blinker on, get out of the turning lane and continue down US-1 towards her rendezvous point.\n\nDespite the pep talk, Lauren almost turns back two more times on the way. In the end it takes her an hour to get from Coral Gables to The Falls, where the TGI Fridays in question is located, normally a twenty-minute drive.\n\nThe closer she gets to the restaurant, the more scared she gets, and the more she berates herself for thinking she could go through with something like this. She can't tell a complete stranger she _might_ be pregnant with his baby. She hasn't even been to the doctor yet. What if her instincts are wrong, along with the test she took? What if she tells Sean and he laughs and tells her he's infertile or something? How embarrassing would that be?\n\nBut deep down she knows there's no alternative situation here. She's pregnant. With Sean's kid. And he has to know.\n\nSo by time she pulls into the parking lot outside of Friday's, Lauren's a wreck. She sits in the car a couple of minutes, taking deep breaths to ward off the panic attack she feels about to take her over. It takes a moment, but she finally calms down enough to open her car door and walk towards the restaurant.\n\nLauren immediately spots Sean sitting by the entrance, where there's a small crowd of people milling around waiting for tables. She didn't consider that on a Saturday night the restaurant would be packed. Which means she and Sean are going to have to sit out here and make small talk until they get called inside. The thought makes her want to go sit back in the car and hyperventilate some more.\n\nSean turns towards Lauren and smiles as she approaches, a disarming move which momentarily alleviates her nervousness. As she approaches she gets a flash memory of their one night together, particularly the feel of his hands on her waist. The image hits her in a jarring manner, and she stops a few feet in front of him and completely forgets Rick, her mother, even her unborn child and imagines that they're really here to innocently probe each other's minds. A shiver travels up her spine, and she tries to offset the awkwardness of it all by throwing out her hand to shake his just as Sean's leaning in to give her a kiss on the cheek. He pauses and his face drops a little. She opens her mouth to tell him it was a mistake, that she wasn't trying to be impersonal. But it's already happened and he takes her hand lightly in his own, shakes then drops it.\n\n\"Nice to see you again,\" he says.\n\n\"You too,\" she says, pulling a lock of hair back behind her ear and studying a couple across the walkway. \"How long's the wait?\"\n\n\"I put us down thirty minutes ago,\" he says. \"They said thirty-five minutes, so it should be soon.\"\n\n\"You've been here for thirty minutes?\" she asks, her eyes widening, face heating up.\n\nHe shrugs, smiles.\n\n\"I'm so sorry,\" she says. \"I—there was a lot of traffic on the way here.\"\n\n\"It's okay,\" he says. \"No big deal. I waited in my car, listened to some music.\"\n\n\"This is embarrassing,\" she says. \"I'm never late. I hate when people make me wait. I'm sorry. Seriously, I'm not that—\"\n\n\"Lauren,\" he says, putting a hand on her shoulder. \"It's okay.\"\n\nSean lets his hand linger before moving it and shuffling his feet nervously. The spot on her shoulder tingles.\n\n\"So,\" Lauren says. \"How have you been?\"\n\n\"Fine,\" Sean says. \"You?\"\n\n\"Good.\"\n\nThey both nod then go silent. Lauren wonders if she should just tell him now, get it over with so they can move out of this realm of awkwardness and into the territory of serious conversation about how to move forward. She opens her mouth just as the intercom comes on, a speaker right above their heads letting out a high-pitched whine before settling into a hum.\n\n\"Sean, party of two,\" the hostess says tiredly.\n\n\"That's us,\" Sean says, walking towards the door. Lauren follows him inside where the hostess puts them at a table near a window overlooking the walkway leading from the entrance of the mall to the restaurant. Sean opens his menu immediately, biting his lip with determination. Lauren opens hers, staring at it and not seeing anything. After a while the mood at the table gets that oppressive quality bad dates have when neither person has anything to say. Then Lauren reminds herself this isn't a date, and she has a lot to say. And she needs to do it before she loses her nerve.\n\n\"So.\" Pause. \"How have you been?\" Shit. She already asked him that.\n\n\"Good,\" he says again.\n\n\"Good,\" she says. \"Good.\" She sounds like a parrot.\n\n\"You ever had the Jack Daniel's chicken strips here?\" he asks.\n\n\"Uh,\" Lauren says opening the menu. \"Can't say I have.\"\n\nSean whistles and nods, turning a page on the menu. Lauren decides, again, to dive right in and tell him, and opens her mouth with every intention of doing so, but he cuts her off before she even starts.\n\n\"You surprised the hell out of me by calling.\"\n\nLauren makes a little grunting noise in the back of her throat that she's pretty sure she's never made before and closes her mouth. She opens it again, closes it again, then smiles nervously.\n\n\"Really?\" she says. \"Why's that?\"\n\n\"It's just, you know,\" he says, shrugging. \"It's been awhile since...\" He trails off into silence and smiles sheepishly. Lauren nods.\n\n\"Yeah,\" she says. \"It has. That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about.\"\n\nSean's eyes glaze over, his mouth open a little, and Lauren wonders if she sounded bad with the way she just worded that.\n\n\"Not like, anything bad,\" Lauren says, a lump rising in her throat. \"I mean...it depends on your opinion I guess. This is just so awkward, I know.\" She takes a deep breath. \"But there's something I think I should tell you. Not a sure thing, but still something I wouldn't feel right not—um—sharing. I mean, there's still a small chance it's all a mistake, which would be really embarrassing so I'm hoping it's not a mistake because then I'd look like an idiot for calling you out here.\" Lauren pauses, looks at her fingers and furrows her eyebrows. \"Not that I want this or anything, that's not what I mean—or that I don't want it, it's not that either, not like it's a _horrible_ idea, it's just that, I don't know, I have to tell somebody, and considering the circumstances, you seemed the right first choice.\"\n\nSean's mouth's still open a little, and Lauren waits for him to respond. Then she realizes that Sean's not actually looking at her but behind her. Lauren turns and sees a woman and man standing at the hostess stand. The young hostess grabs a couple of menus and walks in her and Sean's direction, the couple following. She sits them down at a table about five feet away and when Lauren looks back at Sean, his head is buried in his menu. The woman crosses her legs, thigh exposed. She's attractive, Hispanic, long curly black hair and dark features. Her lips are plump and her back arches a little as she opens her menu. The woman, noticing the attention from Lauren, glances at her, then at Sean, her eyes immediately lighting up with recognition.\n\n\"Sean?\" she says.\n\nSean raises his head and does the worst fake look of surprise Lauren's ever seen and she suddenly wishes she hadn't called him. She wishes to _God_ she hadn't called him.\n\n\"Maria?\" he says.\n\n\"Wow,\" Maria says. \"Funny seeing you here.\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" Sean says, then laughs much too loud for the occasion. There's a long pause after, during which he nods with a half-smile on his face, switching his stare from Maria to her date and back. Lauren clears her throat and Sean jumps, like he just remembered he's sitting with somebody. Maria touches the hand of the man she's with.\n\n\"You remember Lowell,\" she says.\n\n\"Hi, Lowell,\" Sean says, barely giving Lowell a nod before looking back at Maria. \"How have you been?\"\n\nMaria looks at Lauren and smiles.\n\n\"Fine,\" she says. \"I'm over at Baptist now, started my residency.\"\n\n\"Really?\" Sean says, and he seems genuinely surprised. \"Wow. That's awesome. Baptist...that's major.\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" she says, holding a hand out in Lauren's direction. \"I'm sorry, this is kind of awkward. I'm Maria.\"\n\n\"Nice to meet you,\" Lauren says, barely touching her hand before moving away, continuing to watch Sean squirm and wondering more and more what she's doing sitting here right now.\n\n\"And you are...\" Maria says.\n\nSean's eyes flit towards Lauren for a second, and in that moment Lauren realizes this is all a joke. She doesn't know what she thought she would accomplish by coming out here. She knows absolutely nothing about this man, and she doesn't know _anything_ about the baby supposedly growing inside her. He's obviously got enough going on in his life. She doesn't want to get involved in his business. She has too much business of her own to deal with.\n\n\"Leaving,\" she says abruptly.\n\nEverybody stares at her as she picks up her purse.\n\n\"Excuse me?\" Maria says, surprised.\n\n\"I'm leaving,\" Lauren says, standing. \"I'm sorry, Sean. I'm—this was a mistake. I have to go.\"\n\nLauren speed walks out of the restaurant, heading back to her car where she sits for five minutes before finally starting the engine and driving towards Coral Gables and her mother's house.\n\nHalfway there, she suddenly veers across traffic to the turning lane, makes a u-turn then turns right on Kendall Drive, heading west until she's sitting in front of her sister's place. She watches the bedroom window in Caitlyn's third floor apartment and wants to go up and talk to her, but she doesn't know if it's such a good idea. She knows her sister, knows how she'll react.\n\n\"You slept with the bartender that night?\" she'll ask, making it sound like a felony.\n\n\"And you let yourself get pregnant?\" she'll add.\n\nThen she'll rant and rave about how Lauren should come to her first whenever she has some big news. She's family, she'll say, and she's the first person Lauren should trust with anything. Then she'll calm down and start scheming, trying to figure out the potential financial and emotional advantages Lauren can gain from her current situation, and Lauren will turn every idea down no matter how tempting it sounds because, in all honesty, she doesn't want to turn into her sister or her mother. She actually _likes_ to forgive, to forget, to move on and live an amicable lifestyle. The alternative is just so tiresome.\n\nSo instead of getting out of the car and going upstairs to talk to her sister, Lauren pulls out of the apartment complex and heads back east on Kendall Drive until she's outside of her apartment, the same apartment she's lived in with her husband and son for the past three years.\n\nWhen she knocks on the door, Rick answers and, for a moment, seems to have no idea who she is. It's only a second before the recognition courses through him, but in that second of doubt Lauren feels so vulnerable that she doesn't really care if what she's doing is right or wrong. She doesn't want to be alone with this anymore. She can't deal with it all by herself. Rick's her best friend, has been for years now, and neither she or him are okay. His eyes are sunken and he needs a shave. It's been a month since she left him holding his reddening cheek at his job, and it seems as if he's lost ten pounds and all his energy in that time. It never occurred to Lauren that this whole thing could be taking as much a toll on him as it's taking on her. The thought upsets her a little. He brought this on himself. Lauren didn't ask for any of this, so why does he look worse than she does? A taint of pure red rage tickles the back of her consciousness which, surprisingly, makes it a lot easier for her to take a step towards him and meet his eyes.\n\n\"I'm pregnant,\" she says.\n\nRick's eyes slowly widen. She can't really take the rawness in them, so she focuses on a dried, blackened gum stain on the concrete, poking at it with the toe of her shoe.\n\n\"You're pregnant?\" he asks.\n\nLauren nods and feels an instant weight lift from her. It's been such a burden to keep this thing to herself, nobody to tell but her toddler son. Her eyes well up and she wills the tears away. She's doing a pretty good job of it too until she sees Rick's bare feet step up to the gum stain and feels his arms surround her.\n\n\"It's okay,\" he says. \"I got you. Everything's going to be okay.\"\n\nLauren sinks into him and lets go and it just feels so good— _so_ very, very good—that she has no problem shoving aside the rush of guilt that momentarily threatens to consume her as she steps inside the apartment and closes the door.\n\n-22-\n\nMaria sits one table away from Sean during their encounter at Friday's and she looks better than she did when they were together, which Sean didn't even think was possible. It's almost like being with this new guy—Lowell the guy with a presumably steady income and job security and a workout plan and what-the-fuck-ever else he's got—actually made her physically healthier. Not just healthier, but brighter. Like the sun's been shining on her more. Not that she's tanner than she was, but her skin just seems like it's glowing from the inside.\n\nSean sees Maria's face, her high cheek bones and eyes—sea-green with specks of hazel—her dark hair lit up in the lights overhead. Sean sees it all and doesn't miss her so much as miss what being with her used to mean about him. About who he was. You're somebody if you can keep a girl that looks that damn good. Not just good, but _happy_.\n\nSomething happens to him then, this crumbling in his stomach. Like the past month or two of trying to dig his way out of the hole inside himself just caves in and he's suddenly falling in the middle of an avalanche. At that moment, the only thing he really wants is his TV and his Xbox, _Guitar Hero_ and ESPN, some music, a comfy set of boxers and a twenty-four pack of Bud Light.\n\nHe glances at Maria again. Make that a thirty-six pack.\n\n\"I'm leaving,\" Lauren says, finally catching his attention for about five seconds before she stands up and practically runs out of the building, and Sean finally remembers he didn't come here by himself. He gets up and acts like he's going after her, but when he reaches outside he watches her climb in her car and drive off, making no move to follow. Instead, he turns away from Friday's, away from the parking lot, and just starts walking, head down.\n\nWhen he looks up again, he's sitting on a stool in a hole-in-the-wall bar across the street from the mall, a place he's always seen but never actually been to before. The bartender's an old dude with a handlebar mustache, and he looks annoyed as hell standing in front of Sean. Sean turns his head so his ear's facing him.\n\n\"You say something?\" Sean asks.\n\n\"I asked if you're drinking anything,\" he says. \"Can't sit here if you're not drinking.\"\n\nSean looks around and there's a couple of people playing pool in the back, an old guy and slightly-younger-but-still-way-older-than-Sean woman wearing a tiny skirt and giggling every time the old dude says something. Sean looks back at the bartender.\n\n\"Shot of Patrón,\" he says. \"And a Bud Light.\"\n\n\"Draft or bottle?\" the bartender says.\n\n\"Draft,\" Sean says, then shakes his head. \"Actually, fuck it. Two shots of Patrón. And a Crown. On the rocks.\"\n\nThe bartender raises his eyebrow, takes a step back and pauses, looking more amused than annoyed now.\n\n\"One of those nights, huh?\"\n\nSean grunts and the bartender walks away, coming back a moment later with the Patrón shots and rocks glass of Crown Royal. Sean takes both shots, chugs the whiskey, and orders another round, closes his eyes for a second and when he opens them again, he's on the floor of his old bedroom in what is now Derek and Kristina's apartment. The room's been converted into an office, two desks and two computers and two of pretty much everything. His jaw is killing him and he feels like somebody just hit him in the back of the head with something hard and flat.\n\nSean turns to the door and there's a dress shoe about a foot away from him. Derek's standing in the doorway, looking both pissed off and confused.\n\n\"Did you throw a shoe at me?\" Sean croaks.\n\n\"Sean,\" Derek says quietly, shaking his head.\n\n\"Stop screaming,\" Sean whispers, closing his eyes.\n\n\"What the hell are you doing here?\"\n\n\"I don't know,\" Sean says, then groans and rolls over. \"I don't fucking know.\"\n\n\"Why are you on the floor?\"\n\nSean opens his eyes a slit, scowls at Derek, then closes them again.\n\n\"Come on, man,\" Derek say. \"You gotta get up, act like you just got here.\"\n\n\"Why?\" Sean asks.\n\n\"Bro, if Kristina knows you came here in the middle of the night, she's going to flip her shit.\"\n\n\"It's only been, like, a month since I moved, you know that, right?\"\n\n\"Don't start, Sean,\" he says. Derek helps him up and Sean winces, his head feeling like his brain is rolling around in his skull, snapped from all the synapses and connective tissue and other vital stuff. He stumbles into the living room and falls onto the couch, grabs the TV remote and turns it on right as Kristina walks out of the bedroom wearing a huge t-shirt that comes down to mid-thigh, her eyes puffy and closed to slits. She looks at Sean, shoots Derek an annoyed glance and walks back into the bedroom.\n\n\"Sean,\" Derek hisses. \"You gotta stop doing this shit.\"\n\nSean grunts.\n\n\"You drove last night?\" he asks.\n\n\"Derek,\" Sean says. \"What part of 'I don't remember' do you not understand?\"\n\nDerek walks over to the window and pulls the blinds aside then chuckles and shakes his head, which Sean assumes means his car is parked in its usual position in the parking lot: crooked across two spaces. He walks over to Sean with his hand out.\n\n\"Give me your keys,\" he says.\n\nSean almost says no, but he doesn't have the energy or the pain threshold to fight with Derek right now so he reaches in his pocket, pulls his keys out and tosses them at him. Derek searches the key ring until he finds the spare apartment key, takes it off and puts it in his pocket and tosses Sean back the rest. Derek stands there studying Sean, and after a moment Sean looks up at him, squinting through the sunlight coming in from the living room window.\n\n\"I thought you said you were chilling out on the drinking,\" Derek says. \"Playing your guitar, straightening things out.\" He pauses. \"Starting a band.\"\n\n\"I am,\" Sean says.\n\n\"What happened last night?\" he asks, and when Sean shoots him a glare he puts his hands up. \"I mean, who'd you drink with?\"\n\n\"Nobody,\" Sean says, thinking back to his last coherent memory of the night before. \"I saw Maria. With the new guy. Lowell.\"\n\nWhat follows is the longest, tensest moment of silence ever. Sean flips through TV channels and stops on ESPN, puts the TV on mute, and suddenly he's thirsty.\n\n\"Where?\" Derek asks.\n\n\"Friday's,\" Sean says. \"I was there with Lauren.\"\n\n\"Caitlyn's sister?\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" Sean says, giving Derek a look. \"How'd you remember that?\"\n\n\"What?\" Derek says, then shrugs, suddenly looking nervous. \"Wasn't that long ago.\" He waves Sean's question off and points at him. \"What were _you_ doing there?\"\n\n\"Lauren called,\" Sean says. \"We met up, Maria and the new guy showed up and—I don't know what happened. I froze. Lauren got pissed and left and I went to some bar across the street and next thing I know you're throwing a shoe at me.\"\n\nDerek shakes his head and walks over, sitting on the couch next to Sean. They watch TV in silence for a few minutes—some highlight clips of the Miami Dolphins—before Kristina calls for Derek. Derek stands and pauses, looking down at Sean.\n\n\"Guess we're not practicing today anymore?\" he asks.\n\n\"Uh, fuck yeah we are,\" Sean says, standing and wincing at the slice of pain that runs through his forehead. He steadies himself on the arm rest. \"I need to take my mind off this shit. What time is it?\"\n\n\"Eleven. You work today?\"\n\n\"Supposed to,\" Sean says, holding a hand to his head. \"Don't think I'm going to make it though.\"\n\n\"I don't know how they haven't fired you yet,\" Derek says.\n\n\"Me either,\" Sean says, rubbing his face.\n\n\"Whatever,\" Derek says. \"I need to know if you're serious about this band thing or not.\"\n\n\"Might be the only thing I am serious about right now,\" Sean says, then shakes his head at himself when he realizes it's the dead truth.\n\n-23-\n\nLauren arrives at her sister's apartment right after work, knocking on the door with shaky hands. Caitlyn opens it a moment later, takes one look at her sister's face, clenches her fists and lets out a loud groan.\n\n\"You fucking got back with the prick!\" she yells. No preemptive hello or probing questions to make sure she's correct in her assumption, just flat-out, red faced anger.\n\nInstead of answering, Lauren walks past her, heads to the kitchen and pours herself a glass of water, wishing it was a glass of wine.\n\nTwenty minutes later, when Caitlyn's finally calming down, Lauren riles her up all over again.\n\n\"You're pregnant?\" she screams, then before Lauren can respond, \"Why the fuck would you let that cheating douchebag touch you after what he did?\"\n\nAnd that moment, Lauren knows, is the moment when she should be choosing to divulge the full truth to her sister, let her know about Sean and their awkward encounter, her subconscious decision to just brush all this under the rug and focus on the impending months of pregnancy. Instead, she just shakes her head.\n\n\"I didn't,\" Lauren says, leaning back on the leather couch in Caitlyn's living room and glancing around the disheveled apartment.\n\n\"You didn't have sex with Rick?\" Caitlyn says. \"So what, is this an immaculate conception situation?\"\n\n\"Not after Natalie,\" Lauren says, avoiding Caitlyn's eyes. \"Maybe before.\"\n\n\"So that's what it is then?\" Caitlyn asks. \"You found out you were pregnant and went running back to him, just like that?\" She nods and drops the corners of her mouth so that she looks _exactly_ like their mother when she's giving Lauren _exactly_ the same look of contempt.\n\n\"I didn't go 'running back to him',\" Lauren says, standing and pacing the room, agitated, fluffing her hair with one hand and chuckling. \"You wouldn't understand, Caitlyn. You have no idea what—God, how _could_ you understand?\" Lauren stops and glares at her. \"I don't know why I thought this was a good idea. You've never even been pregnant.\"\n\nThe moment the words come out, Lauren wishes desperately that she could pull them back in. Caitlyn crosses her arms and Lauren closes her eyes.\n\n\"Caitlyn,\" she says. \"I didn't mean it like—\"\n\n\"So, what you're saying is, I don't understand what it's like to be a woman because I haven't let some— _asshole_ inject me with his baby batter?\"\n\nLauren's never heard anybody describe the act of conception as if it were junkies shooting heroine. Any momentary remorse she feels is gone in an instant.\n\n\"You really need to get over yourself,\" Lauren hisses.\n\n\" _You_ need to get over _this_ ,\" Caitlyn shouts. \"You don't need him. You don't need _any_ body, Lauren. You keep selling yourself short, and I hate it. You should have come to me if you really wanted support. I'd have helped you.\"\n\n\"Like you're helping now?\" Lauren says, laughing sardonically.\n\n\"No,\" Caitlyn says quietly. \"I'm obviously not. But I want to. I'm trying, Lauren.\"\n\n\"Yeah, well,\" Lauren says, surprised at the emotion in her sister's voice. \"You're doing a horrible job,\" she says weakly.\n\n\"You're fucking impossible!\" Caitlyn yells, throwing her hands up.\n\n\"And you're the easiest person to talk to,\" Lauren says, grabbing her purse. \"I have to go.\"\n\n\"Fine,\" Caitlyn screams as Lauren storms out of the apartment, heads downstairs and hops in her car, sitting there with both hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles look like chalk. After a moment Lauren chuckles, the gesture reaching everywhere on her face but her eyes.\n\n\"Well,\" she says. \"That went well.\"\n\nLauren wants to go home so bad, and pulls out of Caitlyn's apartment complex with every intention of going to the apartment to hang out with Justin and Rick and pretend none of this happened. But part of her knows that she's going to have to face her mother at some point. Might as well get it all over with.\n\nOn the way to her mother's house, Lauren tries to calm down by telling herself that the impending conversation won't be as bad as she thinks it'll be. By time she pulls into her driveway and parks behind her mom's Range Rover, Lauren's convinced herself this will be true, that her mother won't be nearly as hostile as Caitlyn was.\n\nThen she gets out of the car and walks up to the porch, moves to unlock the front door and her mother throws it open before she can get the key in the lock.\n\nStanding there with her hands on her hip, overwhelming disappointment in her eyes, Lauren's mom looks like a character from The _Wizard of Oz_. Lauren sighs.\n\n\"Caitlyn called,\" Lauren says, closing her eyes and rubbing her forehead.\n\n\"He betrayed your trust,\" she says. \"Gave what was rightfully yours away to another woman. And you're going _back_ to him?\" She makes a sound in the back of her throat and mouth, something between a suck and a grunt. \"Are you being willfully stupid?\" she asks, then pauses, as if Lauren's actually supposed to answer that.\n\n\"Mom, I know what I'm doing.\"\n\n\"I'll tell you why you're going back,\" she says, pointing a finger at her. \"Because he's got you brainwashed with the only tool of persuasion he and every other man on this planet knows how to utilize.\" She crosses her arms again. \"His penis.\"\n\nLauren swears it's like déjà vu.\n\n\"Mom,\" Lauren says. \"I just left Caitlyn's. Consider that, please.\"\n\n\"Why'd you do it?\" she asks.\n\nLauren opens her mouth to answer, and this is another one of those moments, the moment she could choose to confide in her mother. She could choose not to withhold information like she did with Caitlyn and tell her mom everything right now, about Sean, about the one night stand, about the real reason she went back to Rick. But she can't. She knows that, no matter what she says, her mom will still disagree with her decision and make her feel horrible about it. And Lauren's already having an easy enough time doing that on her own.\n\nAnd right then Lauren realizes that's all she really wants right now: for somebody to tell her what she's doing isn't wrong. But she knows she won't get that from her mom, or anybody. Because what she's doing _is_ wrong. So very wrong. So Lauren shrugs. That doesn't seem to satisfy her mom, so Lauren groans and leans against the wall next to the door, the heat and humidity from the clear, sunny sky pelting her skin. Lauren wishes it would start thundering and lightning right now, anything to provide a distraction.\n\n\"I don't want to be alone,\" Lauren says finally, quietly. Part of the truth.\n\nThe disappointment on her mother's face dissolves into maternal concern at her words.\n\n\"You're never alone,\" she says. \"I thought you knew that.\"\n\n\"Yeah, well,\" Lauren says, chuckling and looking at the sky. \"Sometimes it feels like the exact opposite.\"\n\nThey both stand there silently, looking off into the distance. After a moment her mother moves out of the doorway and Lauren glances at her before stepping inside, expecting the tirade to continue in some form or another. But instead her mom puts an arm around Lauren's shoulders and pulls her in for a hug. And the feel of it, the familiar smell of her mother's skin, the general sense of safety that accompanies those arms, is almost worth the past hour or so of hassling from her and Caitlyn.\n\nAlmost.\n\n-24-\n\nMarcus comes riding up on his bike from down the block, stopping in front of the open garage door and pointing at the two amps Sean's got set up; one hooked up to his guitar, the other into Derek's bass.\n\n\"Thought you changed your mind,\" Marcus says.\n\n\"Nope,\" Sean says.\n\n\"He's serious then,\" Marcus says to Derek.\n\n\"Why do you guys keep saying that?\" Sean says. \"Is it really that hard to believe?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" Marcus and Derek say simultaneously.\n\n\"Go get your shit, asshole,\" Sean says, pushing Marcus towards the front door. Marcus grins and runs inside, emerging a few minutes later with an armful of equipment: the speaker system from his room, his laptop, and a small TV dinner stand his parents keep next to the refrigerator. He sets up the laptop on the stand and everything else on the floor while Derek tunes his guitar and Sean pretends to tune his, even though he hasn't messed around with the tuning since a few weeks ago when he tried to put the guitar in Drop C based on some instructions he'd read on Google and it sounded horrible, resulting in him spending an hour trying to get it back to standard tuning.\n\nMarcus finishes setting up and claps his hands together.\n\n\"All set,\" he says.\n\n\"Cool,\" Sean says, straightening his guitar strap around his neck. Derek strums a note on his bass and they all turn to face each other. Sean grabs a pick, raises his hand and pauses. After a moment, Marcus drops his head and chuckles.\n\n\"Am I going to have to be the asshole,\" he says, slowly, \"who asks what the hell song we're playing?\"\n\nDerek stares at Sean and shakes his head and Sean pokes a string on his guitar, the amp letting out a loud twang.\n\n\"Shit,\" he says. \"Didn't think of that.\"\n\n\"It would help,\" Marcus says.\n\n\"What songs do you know?\" Derek asks.\n\n\"Only got a couple memorized,\" Sean says, then his eyes get wide. \"'Song 2' by Blur?\"\n\n\"Never heard of it,\" Marcus says.\n\n\"Yeah you have, everybody has,\" Derek says, then nods at Sean. \"Play.\"\n\nSean takes a deep breath and turns away from them, closing his eyes and counting to three in his head before opening his eyes again and putting the pick to the strings. He gets through the intro with only one screwed up note then pounces on the distortion pedal and the amp does that screeing thing he loves and all of a sudden he's rocking out. Head-nodding, foot-tapping type of rocking.\n\nMarcus yells something behind Sean and he stops.\n\n\"Got it,\" Marcus says, clicking around on his laptop. \" _Guitar Hero 5_ , love that song. Give me a second, let me get the drums right.\"\n\n\"Knows it from a fucking video game,\" Derek says, shaking his head. \"Kids these days.\"\n\n\"You got it?\" Sean asks Derek.\n\n\"Bro,\" Derek says, leveling his eyes at Sean. \"I knew that song in my mom's womb.\"\n\n\"Gross,\" Sean says, imagining Derek's 60 year old mother and grimacing.\n\nMarcus fools around with his computer some more then the intro bass drum and snares pulse from his speakers. Sean nods his head to the beat and lets it play for a minute, feeling the rhythm through the floor, rising from the concrete through his feet straight up to his head before he lifts his pick, arranging his fingers on the strings and slamming through the intro power chords. Derek joins in after a moment, his bass adding to the drums and hitting Sean in the chest, right in the middle, not on top of his heart but right next to it so he can feel it but it doesn't hurt, just feels sweet and innocent and at the same time wicked and erotic and—right on cue—Sean slams on the distortion pedal again and he swears the guitar hops in his hand, like it's possessed, heating up as he strums through the chorus and closes his eyes, letting the beat wash over him.\n\nAnd in that moment—in that deep part of his mind where imagination and reality blur—he sees Leon. Just the way he looked the night he died, standing in front of him and shaking his head solemnly, and Maria's standing next to him with her hands on her hips looking pissed, and Lauren's standing next to her, all of them upset for reasons he can't understand. And Sean wants to care, he really does. But there's nothing in this moment but the music, so he closes his mental eyes too and turns away from them and everything and gives himself over to the vibrations as something releases in him, a clenched fist he didn't even know was there.\n\nThey get through the song without a glitch and Sean comes up for air, closing the last guitar riff and letting it ring through the amp before turning to Marcus and Derek, his eyes blurry with tears. He turns away quickly before they see, just as the door that leads back into the house slams open, his dad stepping into the garage wearing a Polo shirt, jeans shorts, and a scowl.\n\n\"What the hell was that?\" he asks. He notices Derek and nods. \"Hi, Derek.\"\n\n\"What's up, Frank,\" Derek says nonchalantly.\n\n\"We're starting a band,\" Sean says proudly.\n\n\" _Started_ a band,\" Marcus adds, grinning. \"That just made us official.\"\n\n\"In my garage,\" their dad says.\n\n\"Where else?\" Sean asks.\n\n\"I was in the bathroom,\" he says, then scratches his ass. \"You interrupted me.\"\n\nSean shrugs and his dad rolls his eyes and walks back into the house.\n\n\"Might have to relocate,\" Derek says.\n\nMarcus scoffs and waves a hand in the direction his dad just walked.\n\n\"He'll get over it,\" he says.\n\n\"That didn't actually sound half bad,\" Derek says. \"The song, I mean.\"\n\n\"You ask me,\" Sean says, nodding. \"Sounded pretty damn good.\"\n\n\"Only one thing,\" Marcus says, scratching his head.\n\n\"What?\" Sean asks.\n\n\"I'm not gonna be part of an instrumental band, bro,\" he says. \"That's not even close to being cool. We need a voice.\"\n\nSilence.\n\n\" _I'm_ not doing it,\" Marcus adds.\n\n\"Your band, bro,\" Derek says, pointing at Sean.\n\nSean sighs and raises his guitar like he's toasting with a drink.\n\n\"Let's hope all those drunken karaoke nights in college paid off,\" Sean says.\n\n\"Wanna try that one again?\" Marcus asks.\n\nSean glances at him, then at Derek, then nods, facing forward. Marcus clicks around on his computer again and Sean hears the beat in his head, visualizes the lyrics in his mind as he taps his feet, takes a deep breath and raises his guitar pick in the air.\n\nstep six: restructuring\n\n-25-\n\nLauren keeps telling Rick he doesn't have to come to these doctor's appointments with her. But every time she tells him she has one, he insists on joining—to the point of annoyance—so that she eventually caves in just so he'll stop whining. Like today: he took the day off and everything, even though Lauren told him it was a waste of a vacation day and that the appointment will only be an hour at the most and then she's heading back to work. He insists though, and as Lauren settles onto the exam room bed, he hovers around her like a hawk, refusing to move more than a foot away at any given moment.\n\nRick touches Lauren's stomach for the millionth time today and she glares at him.\n\n\"Rick,\" she says. \"Stop it. Sit down.\"\n\n\"Why?\" he asks.\n\n\"Because you're being weird,\" Lauren says.\n\n\"It's weird for me to want to be close to my child?\" he asks, and he even manages to say _that_ without any hostility. A little hurt though, she can see it in his eyes. It's like he's been possessed by a polite demon.\n\n\"No,\" Lauren says. \"But you're still close to him if you sit over there.\" She points at the chair in the corner of the room. \"Chill out,\" she adds.\n\n\"Or her,\" he says.\n\n\"What?\" Lauren snaps.\n\n\"Or her,\" Rick says. \"You said I'd still be close to him. Could be a her though.\"\n\n\"Fine,\" Lauren hisses. \"Him or her. Either way, sit the hell down.\"\n\n\"That reminds me,\" he says, his eyes lighting up as he completely ignores her request. \"Are you sure you don't want to know what it is?\"\n\n\"It's a baby,\" she says.\n\n\"You know what I mean,\" he says.\n\n\"No,\" Lauren says. \"I want to find out in the hospital.\"\n\n\"But I want to paint the room,\" he says, actually pouting.\n\n\"It's Justin's room still, first of all,\" she says. \"And it'll be both of theirs when the baby's born.\"\n\n\"Could still paint,\" Rick grumbles.\n\n\"If it's another boy the room is fine the way it is,\" Lauren says. \"And what are you going to do if it's a girl? Paint Justin's room pink?\"\n\n\"No,\" he says. \"Yellow, maybe. Yellow's androgynous.\"\n\nEvery once in a while Rick surprises Lauren by pulling a word like _androgynous_ out of his ass. Rick's a technical guy, limited vocab and not the most literate of the lot. He's much better with his hands, tinkering with motors and electronics and anything that can be taken apart and put back together. Sometimes Lauren thinks he approached their marriage with the same mindset.\n\nLauren pats Rick on the arm.\n\n\"The baby will be fine in the room the way it is,\" Lauren says. \"Now, can you _please_ sit down?\"\n\nAt that moment the room door opens and Dr. Sanchez walks in, head down in a clipboard as he starts doing his checks. Dr. Sanchez is a short, older man with a full head of gray hair and a speckled beard, almost one hundred percent like what Lauren always imagined a doctor was supposed to look like when she was growing up, except for his one defining characteristic: a tattoo of a hawk climbing up his neck, the beak poking out about four inches above the collar of his medical coat. It looks odd against the rest of his features and Lauren can't help staring at it whenever she's in here, wondering how many others he has beneath his long sleeve dress shirt and slacks.\n\nDr. Sanchez squeezes some jelly stuff on her stomach, rubs it around with the little ultrasound device and Rick all of a sudden decides to channel the spirit of Lauren's mother.\n\n\"Everything's fine, right?\" he asks.\n\n\"Looks in order so far,\" Dr. Sanchez replies, staring at the ultrasound screen. \"Haven't really started yet.\"\n\n\"So far,\" Rick says, glancing fearfully at Lauren. \"So there could be something wrong.\"\n\n\"I'm sure everything's okay.\"\n\n\"You don't sound very sure.\"\n\nDr. Sanchez glances at Rick and then at Lauren.\n\n\"Rick,\" Lauren says tiredly. \"Let him do his job.\"\n\n\"I just want to make sure you're getting the best care you can,\" Rick whispers, which is pointless considering Dr. Sanchez is right next to her.\n\n\"Rick, you've met Dr. Sanchez a million times,\" Lauren says. \"Stop acting like this is the first time we've done this.\"\n\nRick leans towards her, close to her ear.\n\n\"It's different this time,\" he whispers again, raising his eyebrows and nodding conspiratorially.\n\n\"No it's not,\" Lauren says. \"It's exactly the same. Can you sit down? You're making me nervous. Nerves aren't good for the baby. Right, Doctor?\"\n\nDr. Sanchez smiles and nods, vague annoyance and relief touching his face when Rick finally takes a seat in the corner, sulking. Dr. Sanchez resumes the process, but Lauren looks at Rick from the corner of her eye and thinks about how this is almost becoming commonplace, this new mentality Rick's adopted. Ever since she moved back in, he's become this overprotective, hyper-sensitive version of himself, a development she still hasn't been able to process, what with all the other things sitting on her conscience.\n\nNot an hour has gone by that Lauren hasn't thought about the moves she's made and pondered the distinct possibility that she could burn in hell for what she's doing. Most hours of the day she can effectively ignore the alarms blaring in her head. Every once in a while though, she can't help but think about two things in particular:\n\n1. She's lied (by omission) to Rick, her mother, and Caitlyn about her pregnancy. She's let them all assume her unborn child is Rick's, though that's most definitely not the case, a fact that will be fairly obvious when her baby comes out half-black, or Hispanic, or whatever Sean is (the fact that she doesn't know this is just one more thing she tries not to think about).\n\n2. She's lied (again, by omission) to her mother and sister about the _real_ reason she's back with Rick.\n\nThat reason—as she's come to realize over the course of many sleepless nights watching the alarm clock change minute by minute, hour by hour, Rick snoring away next to her—is actually fairly simple: she wasn't heartbroken by his cheating, and was therefore freed by it.\n\nThis seems to be the dichotomous result of infidelity, at least in the case of her and Rick's relationship. Lauren could have very well been unbelievably devastated forever by what Rick did. She could have become her mother (who Lauren's now totally convinced was truly, hopelessly in love with her father and therefore absolutely broken by his indiscretions). But that isn't what happened.\n\nInstead, Rick's move effectively liberated Lauren. It opened her up to the possibility of a life without Rick, without expectations, without the future she had resigned herself to prior to him cheating. And that freedom is, ironically, what made it possible for her to come back. She basically can't—or, to phrase it better, doesn't _want_ to—do this alone. Rick was an untapped source of support that she knew (subconsciously or consciously, Lauren has no idea anymore) she could exploit without any unnecessary long-term consequences.\n\nThe fact also is that—regardless of what happens between them in the future—he is still Justin's father. He is going to be in her life for as long as Justin is a part of it, which Lauren's going to allow herself to believe will be as long as she's alive.\n\nThat's essentially the reason why she's sitting in this doctor's office right now with Rick moping in the corner, as opposed to being here by herself. Which, at the thought, sounds like it would be so much more relaxing.\n\nAs her stomach expands, her bladder shrinks, and everything else falls into the familiarly foreign territory of pregnancy, Lauren finds herself more and more content being alone for extended periods of time. But she honestly doesn't think it would be like this if she didn't have the insurance policy that is Rick.\n\nWhich brings everything full circle and gets down to the true essence of why she's back with Rick.\n\nLauren's truly back with Rick because she remembers what her last pregnancy was like. She remembers the last few weeks of immobility, the cravings and wavering emotions, the uncertainty about _everything_. She remembers those feelings and knows that she'd go completely insane if she didn't have somebody around who at least _thought_ they had an obligation to help her survive through labor.\n\nLauren doesn't know what she plans on doing once the baby is born, once her secret is out. She doesn't have a plan as to how she's going to fake interest from now to then in a man who she's been growing apart from for some time now, much longer than these recent issues indicate.\n\nBut she does know that she'd rather be here—with Rick, going home tonight to their son—than back at her mother's house.\n\nAnd with that thought, she glances at Rick and smiles to appease the situation, then turns to the ultrasound screen and listens as Dr. Sanchez announces that the baby is healthy and progressing nicely. All the while trying with all her might to ignore the feeling of Rick's eyes studying her from across the room.\n\n-26-\n\n\"Faaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaith!\" Sean yells, the inside of his throat like a pissed off cat's been clawing at it.\n\nSean stomps the distortion pedal off and his guitar tones down, ringing through the amp as he wiggles his fingers against the strings to get the reverb effect he learned from this Youtube web-series he's been studying. The echo of the snare drums trails off behind him from Marcus's computer. Derek's fiddling with the tuning on his bass, looking bored.\n\nSean stretches, the bones in his neck and arms cracking, and he suddenly wants more than anything to go for a run. He's taken it up lately, waking up each morning after his parents and Marcus leave for work/school, putting on his shorts and lacing his shoes and jogging around the neighborhood until he's panting and his chest is burning. But the desire right now isn't so much about exercise, and he doesn't care that he's wearing sandals and jeans. He just wants to take off around the block, maybe yell the whole way like a banshee.\n\n\"How long was that set?\" Sean asks.\n\nMarcus glances at his computer.\n\n\"Seventy-two minutes,\" he says. \"Fourteen songs.\"\n\nAn hour. _Over_ an hour. Sean's fingers are on fire, his throat raw from screaming that last cover of Limp Bizkit's \"Faith\" (itself a cover of George Michael's \"Faith\", the recycling of music something that's always intrigued Sean). And it all feels amazing. Fourteen songs, over an hour, and he lasted the whole time, almost like a real show.\n\n\"I know what you're thinking,\" Derek says suddenly, still fooling around with his bass as he studies Sean.\n\n\"Fuck what he's thinking,\" Marcus says. \"I know what _I'm_ thinking. That was _awesome_.\"\n\n\"Don't,\" Derek says. \"Just—don't go there. This is fun. But we're not doing that.\"\n\n\"Doing what?\" Sean asks.\n\n\"It's different when you take it in that direction,\" Derek says, shrugging. \"It's not fun and therapeutic anymore. Let's keep it here, in the garage.\"\n\n\"What are we talking about again?\" Marcus asks.\n\n\"I just know you two,\" Derek says. \"You're both going to start getting all these grandiose ideas in your head about doing some shows and all that, when all we're really doing is having fun. Passing some time.\" He stretches lazily. \"So. Just don't. Leave it in here.\"\n\n\"I'm not getting you,\" Sean says, even though he is getting him. His heart's jackhammering in his chest, his blood pressure rising, beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead, that's how much he's getting him.\n\nDerek must see the anger rising in Sean's face because his eyes go wide.\n\n\"Sean,\" he says, turning his head to the side a little. \"I mean—you weren't actually serious about all of this, were you?\"\n\nSean opens his mouth, but he's suddenly too pissed off to say anything. Or not pissed off enough, he guesses. He's in that area between confusion and blind rage, that moment when you can't do anything but stand there with your mouth open even though what you really want to do is hop across the room and wrap your hand around the person's throat, ask them over and over again \"what the fuck is wrong with you!\" until they either go unconscious or squeeze out an answer.\n\nDerek points outside, where the sun's about to set and the old couple from next door are walking across the street with canes they say are for support but which Sean has actually seen them use to beat away the ducks that hang out by the lake a block away.\n\n\"Did you really think we were going to go out there and strike it rich off this?\" Derek asks.\n\n\"Nobody said anything about getting rich,\" Sean growls.\n\n\"I knew it'd come to this eventually,\" Derek says, shaking his head. \"I was just hoping you would recognize this for what it was before I had to be the voice of reason.\" He pauses. \"As usual.\"\n\n\"Bro,\" Marcus says quietly. \"Buzz kill.\"\n\n\"I'm being realistic,\" Derek says. \"I love you two like brothers. I just don't want to see you disappointed.\"\n\nSean takes a step closer to Derek and resists the urge to punch him in the face.\n\n\"Derek,\" Sean says. \"What is your _problem_?\"\n\n\"What?\" he says, taking a step back. \"Sean, you know what I'm saying is—\"\n\n\"Fuck you!\" Sean says venomously.\n\n\"Sean,\" he says, taking another step back and holding his hands up. \"Bro, chill out.\"\n\n\"No,\" Sean yells. \"You are _not_ doing this right now, Derek. You _always_ pull this shit. Every time somebody tries to do something they might actually enjoy, if it's not in your little bubble of security you automatically reject it and make them feel like an asshole.\"\n\n\"I don't do—\"\n\n\"When I first bought my guitar,\" Sean says, holding his Ibanez up in the air like a spear, \"you made me feel stupid about it.\" Sean lowers the guitar and points at him. \"At FSU, when me and Leon bought that regulation beer pong table, remember that? You made us both feel stupid. When Maria broke up with _me_ , you somehow managed to make _me_ feel stupid about that too. Even after Leon _died_.\"\n\nThe entire mood in the garage gets a sudden, drastic shift, and they all pause for a moment of silence.\n\n\"You only come to me when it's something negative _I'm_ doing,\" Sean says quietly. \"Everything you say is so fucking _negative_. And you're going to stand there and tell me you're not trying to keep me from being happy?\"\n\n\"Sean,\" Derek says, holding a hand out. \"You know I love you like a brother—\"\n\n\"You keep saying that,\" Sean says. \"But I'm starting to think it's just one of those things people say that doesn't really mean anything.\"\n\nDerek's face flushes and he stutters a little, but Sean doesn't give him an opening.\n\n\"Do you have an issue with people being happy or something?\" Sean says.\n\n\"No,\" he says. \"I just—\"\n\n\"Then what is it?\" Sean asks. \"What is it why you're always murdering the vibe like this?\"\n\n\"I'm not murdering anything.\"\n\n\"This is the third time this week you've talked about the band like it's just some bullshit excuse to pass time,\" Sean says. \"And that's fine if you feel that way, but last time I checked you've been here damn near every day with us now for—what?\" Sean glances at Marcus, who immediately looks away. \"Six, seven months?\" Back to Derek. \"Seven fucking months. I think, at that point, it stops being just a hobby.\"\n\n\"I know,\" Derek says, sighing. \"We have been spending a lot of time on it. And it's fun, amazing. And we've come way farther than I thought we would, but—\"\n\n\"But not far enough,\" Sean says. \"Not for your standards, huh?\"\n\n\"That's not what I'm saying, Sean.\"\n\n\"Then what are you saying?\"\n\n\"Sean,\" he says, his voice pleading. Sean keeps glaring at him though, so he turns to Marcus. Marcus keeps his eyes on his computer as he presses buttons and pretends nothing's happening around him. Derek groans.\n\n\"Sean,\" Derek says. \"I'm not trying to mess with you or anything. I'm just trying to be realistic. I mean, we did this for _you_ , bro.\"\n\nSean freezes, looking from him to Marcus, whose eyes are suddenly wide, startled.\n\n\"You did this _for_ me?\" Sean says. \"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?\"\n\nDerek winces and looks at Marcus again, Marcus's mouth opening and closing repeatedly though nothing's coming out.\n\n\"What the fuck does that mean?\" Sean repeats, louder.\n\n\"Sean,\" Marcus says.\n\n\"All it means,\" Derek interrupts. \"Is that we were trying to look out for you. Marcus and I did this to help you get better, because you needed help.\" Derek motions towards Sean. \"And it's working. I mean, look at you! It's been forever since I've seen you like this, bro. You're sober, wearing normal clothes again, smiling more. Exercising.\" He throws his hands up. \"Who could've seen that coming.\" Derek sets his jaw, shakes his head and waves his arm. \"But it doesn't go past here, Sean. I'm not going to contribute to you getting all these stupid ideas in your head that are just going to send you over the edge again when they don't pan out.\"\n\n\"You did this for me,\" Sean repeats, nodding. \"So I'm a fucking charity case now?\"\n\n\"Sean,\" Marcus says. \"It really wasn't like—\"\n\n\"No, Marcus,\" Derek says, holding a hand up. \"Yes, Sean. Yes, you are a charity case. You're a tax write-off. You never used to be, and you're starting not to be anymore, but you were for a while, and it was driving everybody fucking insane.\"\n\nHe pauses then, glaring at Sean, Sean glaring back.\n\n\"Go home, Derek,\" Sean says, teeth grinding.\n\n\"Gladly,\" he says, picking up his guitar, amp, and guitar bag and storming to his car. He pauses at the entrance to the garage, like he's going to turn and say something, then changes his mind. Seconds later he squeals out of the driveway and Sean grabs the nearest object that's not his guitar—a box of old magazines—and throws it across the garage. It bangs off the washing machine and Sean hears his dad yell something from inside the house. Marcus clears his throat and Sean spins towards him, fists clenched. Marcus holds his hands up in surrender.\n\n\"It wasn't my idea,\" he says quickly.\n\n\"I can't _believe_ you're on his side!\"\n\n\"Whoa,\" Marcus says. \"I am _not_ on Derek's side. Get _that_ shit out of your head.\"\n\n\"Really?\" Sean yells. \"You and him did all this to make me 'better'? What the hell was that about, Marcus?\"\n\nMarcus squirms on his stool, but Sean is too pissed to give a shit.\n\n\"Alright,\" Marcus says. \"It kind of started like that. We just wanted to help.\"\n\n\"Help what?\" Sean says. \"Help how?\"\n\n\"Derek called me after your birthday and told me you were moving back home,\" Marcus says. \"He said it was because you'd spent all your money on this guitar and stuff—I seriously wouldn't have let you pay if I knew it was your rent money, Sean.\"\n\nSean stays quiet, his eyes practically burning a hole through Marcus's forehead.\n\n\"Whatever,\" Marcus says. \"Derek called me and told me what was happening, and...I don't know. He just called it. It was weird, kind of creepy.\"\n\n\"What are you talking about?\"\n\n\"He told me that he knew you, and he knew you'd hate living back home, for a little while, but that the guitar was a good thing, that you'd practice and get better and sooner or later you'd start talking about putting a band together, and that when you did I should just roll with it.\" Marcus starts picking at his fingers nervously. \"That I should 'just be a part of it and help your brother out,' is how he said it, whether you wanted me to or not, and that I should get you to call him so he could help out too.\" Marcus motions to his computer. \"So I started looking up all this stuff about DJ programs on computers and all that and I didn't really think it was going to happen the way he said it would but I kind of started liking all this shit. They're fun, and the programming is pretty simple, and they sound _good_. Then it was like two weeks later and you were in my room, just like he said.\" Marcus shakes his head. \"It was crazy, bro, how much he knew you. He just wanted to give you something to do so you'd stop walking around in your underwear.\"\n\n\"He told you about that?\" Sean says.\n\n\"It only started out like that though, I swear. But then—I don't know.\" He looks at his computer. \"Then we started to sound pretty good.\"\n\nSean shuffles his feet, still glaring at his brother, though his anger is subsiding.\n\n\"I wasn't that bad,\" Sean mutters.\n\n\"Just tell me,\" Marcus says suddenly. \"What is it with this?\"\n\n\"With what?\"\n\n\"The guitar,\" Marcus says, pointing at Sean's Ibanez, smeared with sweat and fingerprints. \"What is it with the band?\"\n\n\"Not following,\" Sean says.\n\n\"I just\"—he says, then pauses to search for words—\"I don't understand. Why this did it and other things couldn't. Me and Mom and Dad were trying to get you on your feet for months.\"\n\n\"You were?\"\n\n\"Come on Sean, you really think I needed a ride home all those times?\" Marcus says. \"Or Mom and Dad really needed all that help taking care of me? I'm not a baby. They just wanted you to feel like you were part of the family again.\"\n\n\"I am,\" Sean says, staring at the ground, distant.\n\n\"You weren't acting like it.\"\n\n\"So wait a minute,\" Sean says. \"You're saying everything that's happened with you the past year and a half was staged?\" Sean's mouth hangs open. \"Did you ever even get suspended for those hall passes? Or the piercing thing?\"\n\n\"Yes, dumbass,\" he says, waving at Sean like he's a fly. \"This isn't some conspiracy shit. Mom and Dad just wanted you involved more. But it didn't help. And this did.\" He pauses. \"Why this? How did a garage band—fix you?\"\n\nSean opens his mouth to answer then realizes he doesn't really have one. He leans against the wall, glancing at his amp, the red power light on the front and the knobs for volume and tone and the \"Marshall\" nameplate above them, in gold lettering. His fingers instinctively rise to the strings on his guitar and he glances at them, like they're disembodied appendages with a life of their own.\n\n\"Because,\" Sean says, raising his hand so the calluses on his fingers are right in front of his face. \"It's something I'm doing. Actually doing. Not studying or talking about or pretending to do on a video game, but actually _doing_. Something that I did myself, that nobody expected me to do.\" Sean fingers the strings on his guitar again. \"I guess it kind of just gives me hope.\"\n\n\"Hope for what?\" Marcus asks.\n\n\"That someday I'll actually know what the fuck I'm doing with my life.\"\n\nMarcus sticks out his bottom lip a little, moves his head from side to side like he's contemplating the answer, then smiles.\n\n\"Works for me,\" he says. \"Might have gone over better with Derek if you'd said it like that though.\"\n\n\"Derek's a dick,\" Sean mutters.\n\n\"He's just Derek,\" Marcus says. \"He was trying to help you. Can you call him, please? I hate when you guys fight.\"\n\n\"Wasn't a fight,\" Sean grumbles. \"We're not dating.\"\n\n\"Call him,\" Marcus repeats. \"You guys are friends, and he's only looking out for you. And he's our bassist, and we've got a gig in two weeks so you shouldn't be pissing him off right now.\"\n\nSean shakes his head, facing the street. A moment later his face drops and he spins back around to face Marcus, who's grinning with his computer screen turned to face Sean.\n\n\"What did you say?\" Sean asks.\n\n\"Two weeks from Friday,\" Marcus says. \"At that bar you're always talking about, Dill's Tavern.\"\n\n\"How did—\"\n\n\"Good question,\" Marcus says, sticking his index finger in the air and wiggling it. \"Guy I sold hall passes to a while back, his older brother's dating one of the bartenders there. Got him to pull a favor for the rest of my stash.\"\n\n\"I thought they made you give the hall passes back,\" Sean says.\n\n\"How long have you known me?\" Marcus says with a sly smile.\n\n\"Good point,\" Sean says, walking over to the computer.\n\n\"We've got a Facebook event and everything,\" Marcus says. \"You'd know about it if you ever actually went on Facebook, like a normal person.\"\n\nSean stares at the Facebook event screen, which boldly announces the debut performance of _Whatever_.\n\n\" _Whatever_?\" Sean says, smiling. \"You named our band _Whatever_?\"\n\n\"No,\" Marcus says. \"You did.\"\n\nSean has no idea what he's talking about but is too busy studying the computer screen to care. The event's got a picture of Sean, Derek, and Marcus standing on a stage looking pissed off with a bunch of instruments behind them, which is hilarious considering none of them has stood on a stage individually any time recently, much less as a group. It's obviously Photoshopped; nice job though, Sean has to admit. Sean's drunk in his picture (surprise surprise), Derek's pointing at the camera and yelling and totally unaware that his expression's going to be immortalized on the internet, and Marcus is wearing sunglasses, no shirt and skinny pants with all of his teeth showing like he thinks he's Lil Wayne or something.\n\nThe guest list has thirty-four people attending, which almost floors Sean. He would have been surprised if there were five. There are comments all over the page too, from people Sean's never met, saying things like \"sounds like fun\" and \"I'll try and make it out\" and \"glad to hear your brother's doing better, Marcus.\" That last one pisses Sean off a little.\n\n\"You did all this?\" he asks, getting that sucker punch of affection that he hasn't felt in a while.\n\n\"Don't get all mushy on me,\" Marcus says. \"I did it for us. I knew you weren't going to get us out of this goddamn garage.\"\n\n\"Shut up,\" Sean says.\n\n\"Call Derek,\" Marcus says.\n\nSean studies Marcus's face, the desire in his eyes as he nods at Sean's cell phone, sitting on top of his guitar amp. Sean sighs, walks over and grabs it right as Derek's number pops up on the Caller ID. Sean should be surprised, but he's not. He answers the phone and puts it to his ear.\n\n\"Sean,\" Derek says.\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\nMoment of silence.\n\n\"My bad, man,\" he says. \"I don't know what happened. I just—you know how I get sometimes.\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" Sean says. \"Me too.\"\n\n\"I just\"—and Sean can tell this next part's hard for him—\"I don't want to see you like that again, bro.\"\n\nSean feels another burst of affection—getting ridiculous with the emotional stomachaches here—then feels kind of shitty about thinking things were any other way.\n\n\"You got another half hour or so?\" Sean asks. \"Marcus got us a gig. We need to practice.\"\n\nSean waits for him to respond with something that's going to piss him off again, but instead he just says:\n\n\"Yeah, be back in five.\"\n\n-27-\n\nLauren shuffles through Dadeland Mall while Justin and Caitlyn stroll next to her, her stomach bulging beneath the waist of her maternity pants. She glances down at it and tries to take full-on footsteps, but it's nearly impossible at this point so she just resorts to sliding her feet across the floor, barely lifting her heels to at least give the illusion that she's actually walking.\n\nThough she knew what to expect this time around, it's still been only marginally easier than it was with Justin. Keeping active seems to make everything run smoother though. Up until a couple of weeks ago, she was walking two miles every morning, and today's the first day she's taken off from work in months.\n\nSo, yeah. Physically, she's fine.\n\nMentally, though, the stress is starting to get to her.\n\nLauren glances at Caitlyn and they meet eyes, Caitlyn smiling and immediately staring at her sister's swollen belly. Caitlyn does this every time she looks at her, and Lauren somehow finds it both sweet and unnerving. Which basically sums up her feelings about Caitlyn.\n\nLauren's seen her sister only occasionally over the past few months, the tension at full tilt ever since the day Lauren told her she was back with Rick and pregnant. And Lauren admits—she misses her sister. They clash when they're with each other, but being around her is better than not talking to her at all. Caitlyn seems to have finally gotten over it all though, which makes her easier to handle now. Amicable and energetic, she's practically bouncing as they walk, and Lauren wonders if being an aunt for the second time is what's got her sister so bubbly.\n\n\"Who the hell buys all this crap?\" Caitlyn says suddenly, stopping in front of a window.\n\n\"You know,\" Lauren says, laughing. \"For someone who professes to _love_ shopping, you seem to be very much against actually _buying_ anything.\"\n\n\"Shoes are not in the same category as this stuff,\" Caitlyn says, then points at the Victoria's Secret up ahead. \"Neither is lingerie. There's an art to women's clothing, a calculation that makes it _far_ superior to\"—she turns to the window, a display for Sharper Image, pointing at a contraption sitting in the front window with at least twenty buttons and all sorts of lights on it—\"That. There's nothing beautiful about that. It doesn't make me feel anything special. It's just...depressing.\"\n\n\"It's a coffee machine,\" Lauren says.\n\n\"Exactly,\" Caitlyn says. Her shoulder jerks a little, Justin yanking on her hand and pointing at the Auntie Anne's booth near the food court.\n\nAbout a month ago, the three of them were here for another afternoon hang-out and—without Lauren's consent—Caitlyn bought Justin a giant M&M cookie. Ever since, Justin has associated the large Auntie Anne's sign with giant M&M cookies, oohing and aahing and—eventually, if his mom and aunt don't succumb to his initial cuteness—crying his ass off whenever they pass by anything even resembling a pretzel.\n\n\"This is your fault,\" Lauren says, pointing at Caitlyn.\n\n\"What?\" she says, shrugging and smiling mischievously. It's so odd for Lauren to see her interact with Justin. She's even worse than their mother when it comes to spoiling him. It's revealing, Lauren thinks, of a deep-seated sentiment that they both hide behind this barrier of female chauvinism. Lauren would never bring it up to her sister though. She's pretty sure she'd start acting different toward Justin if she did, and he loves his Aunt Caitlyn. Lauren ruffles his hair and he gives her a pleading pout, pointing at the sign. Lauren rolls her eyes.\n\n\"Fine,\" she says, scowling at Caitlyn. \"You're buying though.\"\n\n\"It's just a cookie,\" she says.\n\n\"He's a three year old,\" Lauren says. \"I don't need him more hyper than he already is. That stuff leads to diabetes and obesity and all that.\"\n\n\"You can't shelter him,\" Caitlyn says as she walks away. \"It'll backfire in the long run.\"\n\n\"Says the mother of the year,\" Lauren says.\n\nCaitlyn shoots her a glare and lets Justin drag her towards the stand. Lauren's following behind them when somebody bumps into her and she drops her JCPenney bag of baby clothes. The girl bends over and apologizes profusely, and something about her hair—dirty blonde and flowing to the floor, covering her face—and her voice prick Lauren's attention. She feels a flush of heat that she knows shows in her face as the girl slowly stands with her bag outstretched in her hand. She flicks her head a little and her hair flows away from her face, revealing young, beautiful features: carefully plucked brows and shiny red fingernails and dark brown eyes laced with recognition.\n\n\"Lauren,\" Natalie says. There's a long pause, during which her facial muscles twitch a lot, so she looks like she's on the verge of tears. Lauren takes the bag and Natalie's hand shoots back to her side, as if she's afraid Lauren's going to slice it off. \"Uh...hi,\" she says.\n\n\"Hello, Natalie,\" Lauren says, exhaustedly. She doesn't want to have this conversation right now—this entire encounter actually. She knows what's coming, and part of her wants to close her eyes, stick her fingers in her ears and hum until Natalie goes away.\n\nBut there's also another part of her that seems to have been waiting around for this opportunity. Lauren didn't know this other part of her existed until now, this strangely conniving woman who's been peeking from behind her eyes, sneakily scanning every populated area she's visited since she and Rick quasi-reconciled after he had sex with the girl standing in front of her right now. That woman in Lauren—she's a sadistic voyeur who's been waiting impatiently for the chance to give Natalie the condescending look she's giving her right now, the type of look only someone in her position can justify. For some reason, it makes Lauren feel empowered.\n\n\"How have you been?\" Lauren asks.\n\n\"Fine,\" Natalie says. She shifts subtly from leg to leg, itching to get away. Lauren notices the other girls standing next to them, looking in the window of the Victoria's Secret as if they have no idea what's going on behind them. Lauren guesses these are Natalie's friends, and she's surprised she feels no embarrassment at being this close to a lingerie store while standing in front of a girl who she's physically seen her husband putting his penis in. The last person to allow his penis in them, actually, from what Lauren can tell. Because she for sure hasn't. Sure, he's tried, a couple of times a few weeks after she moved back. The pregnancy and his cheating combined to create a pretty effective excuse though.\n\n\"Haven't seen you around in a while,\" Lauren says.\n\n\"Uh, yeah,\" Natalie says.\n\n\"Let me be blunt,\" Lauren says. \"I know what happened between you and Rick. And I've come to terms with it.\" Lauren pauses. \"Actually, I don't think there really ever were any terms. I guess it's just one of those things that happen to people.\" Lauren chuckles.\n\n\"Lauren, I'm so—\"\n\n\"Please, Natalie,\" Lauren says, holding up the arm with the JCPenney bag hanging from it. \"Don't apologize. I hate fake remorse. It's cliché.\" Lauren gives her a sickly sweet smile and thinks of her mother.\n\n\"I—\" Natalie says, shaking her head then dropping it. \"I don't know what to say.\"\n\n\"There's one thing,\" Lauren says. \"How long?\"\n\n\"How long?\" she repeats.\n\n\"Yes, Natalie,\" Lauren says, still smiling. \"How long were you and Rick fucking before I found out?\"\n\nNatalie's eyes widen and she starts doing this thing where she keeps opening her mouth like she's about to say something, then closes it, then opens it again. Her eyes flit around a lot, focusing on anything but Lauren. Caitlyn stands in line at the Auntie Anne's, watching her as Justin points emphatically at a picture of an M&M cookie on the menu. Lauren holds up her index finger towards her sister then sets her eyes back on Natalie, expectantly. Natalie silently pleads with her friends for help, but they offer none, their backs still turned.\n\n\"It's a simple question, Natalie,\" Lauren says. \"I'm not trying to trick you into anything. I just want to know how long.\"\n\n\"I-I don't know,\" she stammers. \"It all just kind of...happened.\"\n\n\"That's usually the case,\" Lauren says. \"But a girl like you, you must know how long.\"\n\n\"Like me,\" Natalie repeats, and there's a flicker of annoyance in her eyes. Lauren keeps hers focused and Natalie returns to her submissive, head-down stance.\n\n\"I guess,\" she says, letting out a heavy breath. Her eyes roll up as she thinks. \"A few months. Six, seven maybe.\"\n\nLauren nods, her teeth grinding.\n\n\"And when exactly did you stop?\" Lauren asks.\n\n\"I haven't seen Rick\"—she pauses, thoughtful—\"I haven't seen him in months. Three. No, four.\" She shakes her head and holds up her hand. \"I swear, it's been a while. He told me you two were working things out and what we were doing was wrong. And it was, I know, I really do. I don't even know how it started, it just did and then it was hard to stop it. He always said he wanted to though.\" She pauses again. \"Stop, he said. He always said he wanted to stop, not always said he wanted to be with me or—he felt terrible about it, is what I'm saying. It was me, though. I pushed it.\" Her eyes well up a little, and it's right then Lauren realizes this girl is in love with Rick. Good for him. \"I'm really sorry, I never meant to cause problems for you two.\"\n\n\"Thank you, Natalie,\" Lauren says, nodding again. \"For the honesty.\" Lauren reaches a hand towards her and she flinches ever so slightly. And Lauren can't say it doesn't give her some pleasure. She pats Natalie on the shoulder. \"It's good to see you. Stay safe. Hope school's going well.\n\nRelieved, Natalie turns and speeds away. Lauren watches her for a moment, lets the gap between them grow until she has to yell for her to hear.\n\n\"Oh, and Natalie,\" she says. Natalie turns to her, wide eyed. Lauren smiles, tilts her head a little. \"Try not to fuck anybody else's husband in the future. It's unattractive.\"\n\nNatalie's face flushes and she nods, hurrying away with her friends following, whispering. Lauren can't help but chuckle. She's never been the best at math, but she passed her classes in high school. College Algebra at FIU. Besides, the math problem she's doing in her head right now is fairly simple arithmetic. She's eight months pregnant. She was a month pregnant when she moved back in with Rick. Natalie just told her the last time she \"saw\" Rick was three, maybe four months ago. Not since then. She swears.\n\nLauren's still smiling when she finishes shuffling over to where Caitlyn and Justin are waiting for her.\n\n\"What was that all about?\" Caitlyn asks.\n\n\"Nothing,\" Lauren says, standing closer to her and Justin and laying her head on Caitlyn's shoulder. Caitlyn seems surprised by the gesture, and after a moment reaches a hand up to stroke her sister's hair as they move forward in the line.\n\n\"Didn't look like nothing,\" Caitlyn says. \"Who was that?\"\n\nLauren chuckles.\n\n\"Nobody,\" she says. \"Absolutely nobody.\"\n\nstep seven:release\n\n-28-\n\nSean opens his eyes and stares down at scarred wood. When he looks up he sees he's in the same bar he went to after his failed dinner date with Lauren, sitting on the same stool with a shot of Patrón and a beer in front of him, the beer half empty, condensation dribbling into a puddle around the bottle.\n\nBlasting from the jukebox in the back of the room: _Guns N' Roses_ \"Welcome to the Jungle.\" Sean nods his head to the beat while the bartender stands to his left near the sink, wiping the same glass over and over again with a dirty dish rag, not making any progress and not really seeming to give a shit. Sean totally gets it.\n\nSean touches the beer mug in front of him then picks it up, takes a sip even though he doesn't remember ordering it, much less drinking half of it. In fact, he doesn't even remember coming here. Which is never a good sign.\n\nThere's a sudden presence to Sean's left, like the electric pull of static drawing his attention. He turns to it and almost falls out of his chair when Leon takes a seat on the stool next to his, holding a vodka tonic in one hand, jiggling change in his pocket with the other. Just like he always used to. He's wearing exactly what he was wearing the night he died—dress shirt and slacks from Express, top two buttons on the shirt undone so his chest hair and the silver chain and crucifix around his neck are visible—and he's got his sunglasses on even though there's like one light on in this entire place.\n\nLeon's head hangs towards his drink as he pulls his hand out of his pocket and drops a quarter on the counter. He lets it spin, watching it and rubbing his fingers through the condensation settling on the glass. Then he suddenly flinches towards Sean and yells:\n\n\"Paranormal Activity!\"\n\nAnd Sean can't help it. He jumps and lets out a yelp.\n\n\"Aaaaaaaaah,\" Leon says, laughing and pointing at him. \"Gotcha. Bitch.\"\n\nSean's mouth hangs open and he reaches out to touch his dead friend. Leon jerks away from him, frowning and brushing his hand across his sleeve.\n\n\"Threads, man,\" Leon says.\n\n\"Leon,\" Sean whispers.\n\n\"Alright,\" he says, smiling and rolling his eyes. He takes a quick sip of his drink then turns to Sean. \"Guess I'm going to have to get this started then. Hi, Sean. Hi, Leon. How are things, Sean? Oh, good, Leon, very good. You're lying to me, Sean. No I'm not, Leon.\" He pauses, levels his eyes at Sean. \"Sean, I'm dead. I know when you're lying to me.\"\n\n\"Leon,\" Sean says. \"What. The. Hell.\"\n\n\"I expected you to be a little happier than this.\"\n\n\"What are you doing here?\"\n\n\"Having a drink with my best friend,\" he says, giving Sean a hurt expression.\n\n\"Holy shit, man,\" Sean says, looking away and holding his hands up to his temples. \"You're fucking with my head, bro. I can't deal with this shit right now.\"\n\n\"Tell me about it,\" Leon says. \"Not very much you _can_ deal with, huh? Hence the reason I'm here.\" He puts his hand on Sean's shoulder and Sean almost shits himself. \"I'll get straight to it. You're doing the right thing right now. But I know you. I know how you are. You've really got something going here, a little—streak, let's call it? A little productivity streak that could kind of grow into a big one\"—he grins—\"Maybe even a lifelong one, if you know what I'm saying.\"\n\n\"No, Leon,\" Sean yells, shrugging his dead friend's hand off his shoulder. \"I have no clue what you're talking about. What the fuck are you _doing_ here?\"\n\n\"It's just,\" he continues, as if Sean didn't say anything. \"You found something you genuinely love, and genuine love can be a hell of a helpful thing when people are as screwed up as you are. It could bring you out of this shitbox you've been calling your life for the past two years.\" He shrugs.\n\n\"Leon, what the—\"\n\n\"Possibly just to drop you into some other shitbox, of course,\" he continues, seemingly talking to himself now. \"But hopefully one that isn't as shitty as this one.\" Leon puts his thumb and index finger together and points them at Sean, emphasizing his words. \" _Improvement_ , Sean. Improvement. That's what I'm talking about. Not fame and fortune or anything like that but _happiness_. True happiness. You just have to resist the urge to give up. And, like I said, I know you. You will get the urge. You're getting it right now, actually. Which is why I'm here to tell you to stop being a pussy.\"\n\n\"Leon,\" Sean says, but he can't really articulate his feelings right now so he just shakes his head and says, again, \"what the _fuck_.\"\n\n\"Holy shit, bro,\" Leon says, throwing his hands in the air. \"Get over it! Yes, I'm here and no, I'm not real. I'm a manifestation of your subconscious, part of a bunch of other manifestations you've had tonight, though I take a bit of pride in the fact that this is the only one you'll remember when you wake up later.\" He takes another sip of his drink. \"So, you see, I'm not the one fucking with you. You're fucking with yourself.\"\n\nSean can't keep his mouth closed, his bottom jaw hanging uselessly like a door with busted hinges.\n\n\"Huh?\" he finally manages to spit out.\n\nLeon sighs loudly, pointing at Sean's chest.\n\n\"At least look at yourself,\" he says.\n\nSean does, and notices two things right away: 1) he's wearing Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle pajamas, and 2) judging by the pajamas themselves and the size of his hands as he holds them in front of his face, he's eight years old again. Sean looks at Leon and he shrugs.\n\n\"Don't ask me, bro,\" he says. \"You're the psych major. This shit is all your baggage.\"\n\n\"I don't understand,\" Sean says.\n\n\"Nothing to understand,\" Leon says. \"I just came here to tell you not to give up on this.\"\n\n\"Give up on what?\"\n\n\"This music thing,\" he says, then frowns. \"You disappointed me, by the way. I thought you'd handle shit _way_ better than this. The hell happened to you, bro?\"\n\n\"What happened to _me_?\" Sean yells. \"Leon, you're _dead_.\"\n\n\"I know, man,\" he says, nodding solemnly. \"Sucks, kinda. Being alive was the shit too. Imagine how much more pussy I'd have gotten if I hadn't kicked it so early? I was just starting to get that grown man _primo_ ass too.\"\n\n\"I'm serious,\" Sean says.\n\n\"Me too.\"\n\nSean sucks his teeth and turns back to his beer, reaching up and holding the mug with his two tiny, young hands. He sips it and Leon chuckles.\n\n\"You look ridiculous.\"\n\n\"Fuck you,\" Sean grumbles, wiping his upper lip.\n\nLeon lets that sit for a moment, sipping his drink.\n\n\"You realize by getting pissed at me you're actually getting pissed at yourself, right?\"\n\n\"No,\" Sean grumbles. \"I'm pissed at you.\"\n\nLeon pauses for a long time, until Sean turns to him.\n\n\"I miss you, bro,\" Sean whispers.\n\n\"I know,\" Leon says, suddenly uncomfortable. \"I, uh, miss you too...bro.\"\n\n\"I just\"—Sean looks away, shakes his head—\"I don't know what I'm doing now. It's like a day-to-day thing. Sometimes I wake up happy and the day goes by and I'm fine. But then, most of the time it's like—things are so much different now than they used to be.\" He turns away, staring at his beer. \"People stop giving a shit about what you do with your life after college.\"\n\n\"I'm pretty sure nobody gave a shit about it while you were in college,\" Leon says, and Sean can't help snickering. Leon puts a hand on Sean's shoulder. \"Life is never easy, man.\" Sean looks up at him and Leon gives him a weak smile. \"But I'd live it again in a second if I could. Please don't waste yours.\"\n\nThey watch each other's facial expressions go through the transformation from depressed to happy, then Sean smacks Leon lightly on the back and reaches for his beer again. He's about to sip it when Leon suddenly grabs the mug out of his hand and pushes it down the bar.\n\n\"What the hell?\" Sean says, watching it slide away.\n\n\"Enough of that shit, man,\" he says.\n\n\"I thought we were drinking.\"\n\n\"First of all, you're not old enough,\" Leon says, looking Sean up and down and smirking. \"Secondly, there's been a change of plans.\" He stands and opens his arms. \"You're about two seconds away from falling out of bed, and I want to say bye before you go.\"\n\nSean stands shakily and embraces his dead best friend, taking in a near-lethal whiff of his Calvin Klein cologne and feeling the fabric of his designer clothes against his cheek before something hits him in the face and he opens his eyes to stare at his bedroom floor, his left arm tingling with numbness and his legs tangled in bed sheets. For a second he feels like he's about to puke until he realizes he was drinking in his dream, not in real life. The nausea disappears almost instantly at the thought, leaving only one thing in its place; a single thought:\n\nIt's Friday.\n\nShowtime.\n\n-29-\n\nTwo things happen on the evening of Friday, July 26th.\n\n1. Lauren's water breaks, and\n\n2. She becomes one hundred percent sure that Sean needs to know about his child. ASAP.\n\nLauren doesn't know why this thought jumps into her mind so suddenly and securely, but once it's there it's firmly entrenched, the conviction sending a sharp seed of terror through her spine that—for a second—completely distracts her from the warm, wet sensation in her pants.\n\nAbout ten minutes before this happens though, Lauren's sitting next to Caitlyn on the living room couch watching _Law and Order_ and sucking on a popsicle while Justin sleeps on her lap. Caitlyn's taken to spending the afternoons with Lauren and Justin these past few weeks, waiting until Rick comes home before pretending to like him for five minutes then going back to her apartment.\n\nDuring this period of time, Caitlyn's insisted that Lauren ask her for the things she needs. Every time Lauren protests, Caitlyn points out that she's in nursing school and therefore qualified to take care of a pregnant woman (and Lauren's had to keep pointing out to her that she doesn't actually need a nurse until the baby's on the way).\n\nLauren admits, though, that her stomach's expanded enough now to make it slightly difficult to stand up and do certain things for herself. But she doesn't want to sit around like a dead beached whale, bloated from the sun. The weight gain during this pregnancy has been less than the last; nevertheless, she won't be walking around in a bikini any time soon.\n\nCaitlyn's been a blessing in her own way, but most of the time that she's been here asking Lauren questions and getting her things, Lauren's really just wanted to be alone. Last pregnancy, Caitlyn was the worst: unsupportive, unavailable, unbearable. She was a freshman at UM then, partying and occasionally studying and generally being as self-possessed as most college freshmen tend to be. Lauren was the same way, so she didn't blame her much.\n\nThis time, however, Caitlyn's older and she's been there for her sister, even when her sister hasn't wanted her to be. It's one of the small signs that Caitlyn's actually growing up, and Lauren will take them when she can.\n\nIt's not just Caitlyn though. As of late, Lauren's just wanted _every_ body to leave her alone, if anything just so she can think in peace. She's done a lot of thinking the past few weeks. Months, actually. This pregnancy's been like one long meditation, and Lauren's totally getting her monk on.\n\nAnyways, at some point during the _Law and Order_ rerun, Caitlyn turns to Lauren and motions to Justin, drooling on her pants leg.\n\n\"Gotta pee,\" she whispers. \"Help me move him.\"\n\nLauren picks Justin up a few inches so Caitlyn can slip out, and Justin smacks his lips, opening his eyes slightly then falling right back asleep as Lauren lays him on the couch. Caitlyn steps towards the bathroom and Lauren makes a move to get up and Caitlyn freezes.\n\n\"Where you going?\" she asks.\n\n\"To get some milk,\" Lauren says, sighing. \"If that's okay with you, Mother.\"\n\n\"Screw you,\" Caitlyn says. \"And don't move. I'll get you milk when I get back.\"\n\nLauren rolls her eyes and Caitlyn rolls hers back exaggeratedly then walks away. And the moment Lauren hears the bathroom door close she stands and heads to go get herself some goddamn milk. Alone.\n\nSo Lauren's in the kitchen when it all happens, standing in front of the fridge and trying to maneuver around her belly to get the bottle of milk. The bottle has been placed annoyingly in the very back of the top shelf so she has to bend over to reach it. She's in the motion of this when there's a sudden release, like her bladder's just quit, punched out and left the building. She hears the drip of liquid before she feels it, and when she looks down it's all over the front of her spandex pants and on the floor. It's warm and baffles her even as she recognizes it for what it is.\n\nLauren opens her mouth to say something, anything to notify Caitlyn that it's time, but right then she's struck with an image of Sean, sitting in his car smiling at her as he drops her off at Shambles. She's instantly saddened by it, and even more saddened by the image that follows: an older Sean being contacted by his faceless eighteen-year-old son or daughter, finding out then that he missed his child's entire life. Lauren's almost absolutely sure that her kid will blame Sean for this, even though it wouldn't be his fault. And she realizes then that she can't let that happen. She won't survive the next couple of decades with that floating over her head.\n\n\"Caitlyn,\" she finally squeaks.\n\nIt comes out so soft that she doubts Caitlyn will hear it, but she does. There's the sound of rapid footsteps and her steadily elevating voice as she crosses the living room from the bathroom.\n\n\"I thought I told you to fucking wait, Lauren,\" she says, stopping to turn on the light in the kitchen. Lauren didn't realize that she's been standing in the dark this whole time, and squints as she turns to face her sister. Caitlyn stands in the kitchen entrance with her lips pressed together tightly, hands on her hips and eyebrows creased with confusion as she studies her sister—who's hunched over and holding her stomach—then notices the damp floor beneath her.\n\n\"Oh,\" she says, the realization hitting her. Her eyes widen. \" _Oh_ ,\" she says again. \"Oh, shit. Shit, ok. Ok.\"\n\nCaitlyn's about to walk out then turns and takes a few steps towards Lauren, turns to leave again, then stops with her hands waving in front of her like a blind woman.\n\n\"I forgot what I'm supposed to do,\" she says.\n\n\"The bag,\" Lauren says, grimacing. There's a familiar prickle of pain below that she knows will soon grow into gut-wrenching contractions, and she really wants to be sitting down when that shit starts up. \"Get the bag and bring the car near the elevator downstairs.\"\n\n\"Right,\" she says. \"Right.\" She turns to leave again then stops, looking Lauren up and down. \"Don't move. I'll help you in a little bit.\"\n\n\"Caitlyn,\" Lauren says, breathing deeply, slowly.\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\n\"Everything's going to be fine,\" she says. \"Please, just relax. I can't relax if you're not relaxed.\"\n\nCaitlyn nods and Lauren can't help but smile when she mimics her breathing method and shuffles out of the kitchen. Lauren stands there and keeps on breathing slowly. Then she decides she doesn't want to stand in her own bodily fluids anymore, so she makes her way out of the kitchen to the front door and grabs a coat, the longest one hanging in the closet. She puts it on to cover the big wet stain in the front of her pants which—regardless of the circumstances—still makes her uncomfortable with its visibility. She makes her way to the coffee table and grabs her cell phone and sits down slowly next to Justin who's still asleep, oblivious to what's going down around him.\n\nLauren pulls the contacts list up on her phone and scrolls down to Rick, pausing with her finger over the call button. Before she realizes what she's doing though, she presses the scroll button again and passes Rick's name, moving right on to the S's.\n\nFor \"Shambles.\"\n\nFor \"Sean.\"\n\nLauren's about to press the call button when a sharp pain rips through her stomach and she doubles over. She's not aware she makes a sound, but Caitlyn's in the living room within five seconds, her mouth open in an O.\n\n\"Ok,\" she says, arms up in blind-woman stance again. \"Ok, ok, ok, ok.\"\n\nThe pain recedes and Lauren straightens up, standing slowly and reaching out for her sister as she seems to be falling into the grip of a panic attack.\n\n\"Caitlyn,\" Lauren says.\n\n\"Ok, ok, ok, ok.\"\n\n\"Caitlyn.\"\n\n\"Mm hmm,\" she says, eyes closed, not speaking to Lauren but seemingly to herself.\n\n\"Caitlyn,\" Lauren yells, taking another step towards her, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her. Caitlyn's eyes open wide, focused on Lauren, who pulls her close. She looks her sister in the eyes, holds her gaze for a few seconds before speaking. \"You're freaking me out,\" Lauren says softly.\n\n\"Sorry,\" Caitlyn whispers.\n\n\"We're fine,\" Lauren says, \"I've done this before.\"\n\n\"I haven't,\" she whimpers.\n\n\"Caitlyn,\" Lauren says. \"You're a nurse, remember?\"\n\n\"Not yet I'm not,\" she says.\n\n\"Well,\" Lauren says. \"Lucky for you, all you've really got to do is get me to the hospital. And relax.\"\n\nLauren smiles and Caitlyn forces a smile back and there's a noticeable release of tension, not all of it but enough to get this show on the road. Caitlyn wakes up a confused and disoriented Justin, speaking to him cheerily and urging him to get his own pre-packed book bag.\n\nSoon Lauren's in the elevator and moments later she's standing on the sidewalk gritting her teeth through the increasing pain in her stomach as Caitlyn pulls her car up to the handicapped parking spot. Lauren waddles over to the passenger's side and loads Justin into the car then gets in and looks back at him as he smiles up at her groggily from his car seat.\n\n\"You okay, baby?\" she asks.\n\nJustin nods and Lauren raises a fist with the pinky out. He grabs it and the feel of his skin is comforting. He sits back and within a few seconds his eyes start drifting closed again. Considering how long it usually takes her to get him to sleep, the fact that he's able to relax through all this commotion baffles Lauren. Kids.\n\nLauren turns back to face the front and she's just putting her seatbelt on when another searing pain rips through her stomach. She must make another involuntary sound because she hears Caitlyn moan beside her.\n\n\"Lauren,\" she says. \"I know I'm supposed to be ok with all of this and helpful and all that but—you're my sister and this is freaking me out, ok? I can't have anything bad happen to you or this baby. I won't be able to handle it. So you—I—I'm not ok over here, ok? I'm not ok unless you're ok, so—yeah, you gotta—you know, let me know you're ok. Ok?\"\n\n\"I'm—\" Lauren starts, pausing to grit her teeth against more pain. When it passes, she grabs her phone out of her pocket and takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself. \"I'm fine. Just get me to the hospital. Quick. And do me a favor.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" she says, nodding as they squeal out of the parking lot. \"Anything.\"\n\n\"Call him,\" Lauren says, handing Caitlyn the phone. \"Tell him to meet us at the hospital.\"\n\n\"Ok, but—\"\n\n\"And don't tell him why,\" Lauren adds, closing her eyes. \"He can't find out over the phone. That's unfair. I want to tell him. Just say—tell him I've been admitted to the hospital and I want him to come.\" She pauses, takes a deep breath. \"He'll come.\" She hopes.\n\n\"Sure,\" Caitlyn says, looking at her sister skeptically. \"But why wouldn't Rick know why we're at the hospital?\" She chuckles, sneers a little. \"You forget to tell him you're pregnant, or does he think that's a tumor in your stomach?\"\n\n\"Not Rick,\" Lauren grunts. \"Him.\" She points at the phone. \"And Rick. And Mom, after. But him first.\"\n\n\"Ok,\" she says. \"No problem, but who's\"—she glances at the phone, frowns. \"Shambles?\"\n\n\"It's not Shambles,\" Lauren says. \"It's Sean. Shambles is Sean.\"\n\nCaitlyn looks confused, then her eyes light up.\n\n\"Sean the bartender?\" Lauren nods and Caitlyn glances at the phone and recognition spreads across her face like a sunrise. \"Lauren. No.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" Lauren says.\n\n\"Sean the _bartender_?\" she repeats, then thinks for a moment. \"Holy fuck, that _night_?\"\n\nLauren nods again, deep breath, in and out.\n\n\"Oh, Lauren,\" Caitlyn says, grimacing and shaking her head as she presses the call button and puts the phone to her ear. \"This is unreal.\" She lets out a quick burst of laughter that doesn't have any humor in it. \"Holy shit this is—not even—I couldn't _make_ this shit up.\"\n\n\"Glad you're entertained,\" Lauren says, barely getting it out before a fresh wave of pain hits her again and she forgets everything but the life struggling to free itself from her uterus.\n\nstep eight: self-assurance\n\n-30-\n\nSean tosses the bag with his guitar cables in it into Derek's car and slams the trunk closed, turning and coming face to face with his mom. She stands staring at all of them skeptically.\n\n\"What's this?\" she asks, motioning towards the car.\n\nAbout an hour ago, Sean specifically asked Marcus not to tell their mom and dad about their gig, because they'd inevitably want to go. And, of course, as their mom glances at Marcus, he steps forward and says:\n\n\"We're playing a show tonight.\" Grinning, he looks from her to his dad. Their parents look at each other then at Sean like they don't know who he is.\n\n\"Dammit, Marcus,\" Sean says under his breath, glaring at his brother.\n\n\"What?\" he says, then brushes Sean away. \"It'll be fine.\"\n\n\"Well, good for you,\" their mom says, turning to her husband. \"We can make it, can't we?\"\n\nInstead of answering, their dad points at the garage door.\n\n\"Is that why you've been making all that racket in there?\" he asks.\n\n\"It wasn't racket,\" Derek says, pouting.\n\n\"Sounded like the definition of racket to me,\" Sean's dad says.\n\n\"Are you coming or not?\" Sean asks.\n\nHis dad grunts. Grunts mean yes.\n\nTwenty minutes later, Derek, Marcus, and Sean walk into Dill's and Sean's stomach immediately turns over on itself, twisting and grinding and making him feel like he's about to shit and puke at the same time.\n\nThe moment he sees the stage, Sean's head spins, disoriented. Sober and coming in through the back door of Dill's with his guitar and amp and wiring, he feels like he's in the twilight zone. The bartender right now—Debbie, an older woman who Sean knows mostly as the only bartender here who's ever cut him off _before_ he got so drunk he could barely walk—is even talking to him like he's an actual person.\n\nThe bar is pretty much empty, hazy with smoke and dim lighting, which actually helps Sean relax a little. With the five or six people in here who he can barely see, it seems less like he's about to perform on stage for the first time ever and more like he's just showing some friends what he's learned on the guitar.\n\nThen, while Sean's setting all his stuff up, the lights come on above the stage and about 20 more people walk in, and Sean's nerves are instantly all fucked up again. People he recognizes from work, people he recognizes from the one or two law school events Derek's dragged him to in an effort to get him to stop sitting around the apartment in his underwear, people Marcus has introduced him to while hanging out at the mall or any of the other random places Marcus asks Sean to take him to, a couple of his coworkers from Shambles grinning at him and flashing thumbs up, couple more recognizable faces from where-the-fuck-ever, and his mom and dad standing in the back suddenly, like they teleported there, his dad holding a bottle of Bud. He tilts the beer towards Sean and nods. Sean swallows thickly as he nods back. His mom isn't even trying to hide her excitement, grinning and waving and acting like she's at his elementary school play.\n\nMarcus fiddles around on his computer with his headphones on—uber-expensive Beats by Dre DJ headphones that he bought a few weeks ago with money that Sean's decided not to ask him about. Derek tunes his bass and keeps glancing at the crowd, expressionless. Sean sets up the microphone and plugs it in then throws his guitar strap over his shoulder and across his chest, holding the neck of it like he's trying to strangle the damn thing as he stares at the amp.\n\nThe clock in the back of the bar says it's 7:55. Five minutes until show time. Sean faces the stool in front of the mic stand set up on stage. Another mic's in front of Derek, and Sean notices it at the same moment Derek notices him noticing it. Sean raises his eyebrows. Derek shrugs.\n\n\"Figured you might need some back up,\" Derek says.\n\nSean smiles and nods, facing the crowd again. Three band members. Two mics. One stage. The stage they're standing on. They're actually standing on a stage, doing all the same things they've been doing in the garage at his parent's house for the past six months, only with about forty people filling Dill's Tavern now, which is about twenty more people than Sean's ever seen in this place at one time before. All waiting for them to do that thing they've only been doing in a garage up until now.\n\nNow Sean _really_ feels like he's about to puke, and he turns back to Derek and Marcus.\n\n\"I don't know if I can do this,\" he says, the words barely loud enough for them to hear.\n\n\"Stop it,\" Marcus says, opening his eyes wide and pointing at Sean. \"Don't start. You know damn well we've practiced this shit to death. You'll be fine.\"\n\nSean stares at his little brother for a little while then shakes his head.\n\n\"Aren't I supposed to be the one saying that shit to you?\"\n\n\"None of us do what we're supposed to do,\" Marcus says, shrugging and going back to clicking around on his computer. \"Get over it.\"\n\nSean closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, then opens them and looks at Derek.\n\n\"You ready?\" he asks.\n\n\"Am _I_ ready?\" Derek says, snorting a little and looking at Sean like he's crazy. \"Are _you_ ready?\"\n\n\"I'm fine,\" Sean says, looking at Marcus. \"You ready?\"\n\n\"I was born ready,\" Marcus says.\n\n\"Really, Marcus?\" Derek groans. \"'I was born ready?' What is this, like, _West Side Story_ or something?\"\n\n\"Bro, shut up.\"\n\n\"Same set as usual?\" Sean says.\n\n\"Sean,\" Derek says, leveling his eyes at him. \"We only know twelve songs. I wouldn't call it a set. I'd say it's our whole repertoire.\"\n\nSean's about to tell him to stop being a dick when he finally recognizes Derek's hostility for what it is: a side effect of his nervousness. Which makes Sean not feel so bad about the fact that he wants to run out of this place at full speed. He reaches over and pats Derek on the shoulder.\n\n\"Kristina coming out?\"\n\n\"No,\" Derek says, like Sean's crazy.\n\n\"Cool,\" he says.\n\n\"Let's get this over with,\" Derek says, sighing.\n\n\"Right,\" Sean says, taking a deep breath and turning back to the mic. He taps it and the sound of his finger against the metal travels through the mic, through all the wires and into the speakers above their heads, set up on ceiling mounts, erupting in a burst of bass that makes Sean flinch. Forty pairs of eyes suddenly focus on him and the place goes quiet. The light shining right in his face makes it hard to see, but still he can feel those eyes, probing, hoping, waiting. For him to play. For him to fail.\n\nSean's parents yell something he can't understand and the crowd chuckles collectively. Sean squints, trying to see them. No use, so he closes his eyes and tries to figure out how to make his palms stop sweating, how to make the icicles in his heart melt away.\n\nAnd suddenly, Sean gets an image in his head of the entire room disappearing, and wonders if he's got enough imagination to open his eyes and pretend there's actually nobody in here. Nobody alive at least. But imagining a room full of dead bodies seems kind of morbid, and distracting. Until he realizes that's exactly what he's seeing behind his eyes. Right there, behind his closed eyelids, the image of the room shifts and changes until he's seeing people that aren't supposed to be there. The faces drift in and out of focus, but the resemblance is unmistakable: Jimi Hendrix with his afro and lazy eyes; Kurt Cobain sitting with a glass of something brown and dirty-looking, his stringy hair covering most of his face; Janis Joplin laughing in the corner with Freddy Mercury; Bradley Nowell with a cloud of smoke around his head, grinning and nodding. And right up front, at the closest table to the stage: Leon, sticking his tongue out and raising his hand, fist closed with his index and pinky forming devil's horns and pointed at the sky.\n\nSean opens his eyes and the image wavers, threatens to float away, then suddenly stabilizes, merging with the reality of it all to create a mirage, and in that instant Sean's skin cools, this calmness coming over him like a cloak. He leans into the mic and it rings a little so he moves away from it, clearing his throat. The sound reverberates through the room and he forces a smile.\n\n\"Hi,\" he says, and his voice sounds weird coming from the speaker overhead, bouncing off the back wall with an echo so delayed it sounds like somebody else is repeating his words right after him.\n\n\"We are,\" he says, glancing at Derek, \" _Whatever_.\"\n\nThere's a round of applause loud enough to be encouraging. Sean tries to think of something else to say, but can't think of anything so he just turns around to Marcus and Derek and nods. Marcus nods back, presses a button and drum sticks tap against each other, erupting from the speakers. Sean takes a deep breath and turns back to the crowd, raising his pick, arranging his fingers on the correct power chord and launching into _Bush_ 's \"Machinehead.\"\n\nSean expects to mess up—almost messes up on purpose actually, so he can get it over with, apologize to these people for wasting their time then walk over to the bar and get shitfaced, avoiding everybody's eyes for the rest of the night. His fingers seem to think that's a stupid idea though, and before he knows it his mouth is half an inch from the microphone and he's crooning into it, making love to the thing is what it feels like as he belts out the lyrics: \" _breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out, breathe in_ ,\" and he lets the chords ring, wiggling his finger against the strings after each riff and closing his eyes so he doesn't have to see the people's reactions, can just feel the music coming through his mouth and fingers.\n\nSean takes this energy into the guitar solo, stepping away from the mic and concentrating not just on getting every note right, but on getting them out loud and clear, letting the ones that are supposed to expand ring through the room, jerking through the fluttery notes to create this hard, somber flow, then closing his eyes again to really feel the vibrations, the tremor from Derek who's beating the bass out of his guitar, pounding Sean in the chest, then he's back at the mic and now there's not just an echo but an amplified substance in his voice and it takes Sean a moment to realize Derek's mouth's pressed against his mic, eyes closed, singing along with him, so Sean closes his eyes again and fills his lungs with air and lets it all out.\n\nBy the end of the song, Sean's forgotten they're in Dill's. He's back in his parents' garage, with his best friend and little brother making music and loving every moment of it. He lets go of his guitar and it hangs loosely around his neck, the echo of that last power chord and beat of the bass guitar ringing through the room. Sean opens his eyes, his ears humming, and turns to Marcus and Derek who are doing their thing—Marcus fiddling with his computer as usual, Derek pretending to retune his guitar as usual, both of them grinning and sweating.\n\nThen Sean hears something that makes the skin on the back of his neck tingle: a clap.\n\nJust one at first, then a few more, and when he turns back to the crowd he sees a couple of people playing darts in the back, another couple playing pool, a group talking in a corner booth with a couple of beer mugs surrounding them, and a whole lot of eyes on him, Marcus and Derek. Eyes attached to smiling faces, and now there's a lot more than just one clap. The applause that breaks out rises and falls as one entity, and the energy in the room is unmistakable. The message is clear: there's no disappointment here. Sure, it's not Madison Square Garden, and they're not Red Hot Chili Peppers, but it's enough. And now that he thinks about it, it always will be, as long as he feels the way he just felt playing that song.\n\nSean glances at his parents and his mom is hopping around, both thumbs up. His dad looks more relieved than anything. With confidence flowing through Sean like electricity, like _he's_ the one connected to the amp, he walks up to the mic again.\n\n\"That was Bush's 'Machinehead,'\" he says, clearing his throat and looking around the room. He tries to think of something to say, some witty banter like all the good performers do, but he draws a blank. So he just turns and points at Marcus. \"Marcus Easton, my little brother, on the\"—Sean pauses—\"Synthetic drums, I guess you'd call it. And Derek over here on bass and backup vocals. I'm Sean Easton on lead guitar and vocals and again, we are _Whatever_.\"\n\nA couple of hoots and claps and Sean turns back to Derek, shrugging. Marcus starts the drumsticks tapping and they launch into Radiohead's \"Creep.\" Then it's the rest of their set: Limp Bizkit's \"Break Stuff\" and \"Faith\"; Korn's \"A.D.I.D.A.S.\"; Chevelle's \"Point #1\"; Puddle of Mudd's \"She Hates Me\"; Offspring's \"Self Esteem\"; Green Day's \"Brainstew\"; System of a Down's \"Aerials\"; Sublime's \"Santeria\"; Marilyn Manson's \"Sweet Dreams\"; wrapping it up with Sean's favorite: Nirvana's \"Smells Like Teen Spirit.\"\n\nThere's highs and lows. Sean fumbles the strings a couple of times on \"Aerials\" and \"Sweet Dreams\", and Marcus's computer has a brain fart or something at one point and stutters through a drum solo (which actually ends up sounding kind of cool, like they meant for it to happen, so Sean just rolls with it). In those moments, Sean can feel the heat of embarrassment rising up his neck to the top of his head, threatening to consume him and force him to mess up a lot more than five seconds of a single song, but then he imagines dead rock stars again and pushes through the haze and it's like he never fumbled at all. Like he added his own little twist to each track.\n\nSean wonders if that's how it is for actual rock stars. Then he stops caring and just enjoys the ride.\n\nWhen they're done, Sean takes the guitar from around his neck and puts it on the guitar stand then steps back up to the microphone. He rubs his fingers together, the grooves where the strings ground into his fingertips hurting so fucking good. He coughs a little, his throat raw, and smiles at the people smiling back at him.\n\n\"Thank you,\" he says. \"Again, we are _Whatever_. Hope you enjoyed.\" He pauses for just a second before he speaks again, not really knowing what he's going to say until it's out: \"We dedicate this show to our lost friend, Leon Jimenez. Love you, bro. Miss you always.\"\n\nThe applause that breaks out startles Sean, way louder than he thought this small group of people could be. It's enough for him, Marcus and Derek to just stand there for a minute and bask in.\n\nThe applause ends soon enough and Marcus and Derek pound each other's fist then pound Sean's. Marcus closes his computer and Derek turns to put his bass back in its case and they all silently pick up their stuff and head outside as Dill's settles back into the normal hum of random conversations, and just like that it's over, almost like they never played to begin with. And at the same time, things feel so much different. After they've put their stuff in the car they hurry back inside, weaving through congratulatory handshakes towards the bar where Sean and Marcus's parents are still standing. Sean's mom runs up to him and throws her arms around his shoulders, squeezing him.\n\n\"That was amazing, honey,\" she says. \"I didn't know you had such a voice.\" She tilts her head to the side a little, thoughtfully. \"A lot of screaming, and I didn't really understand most of what you were saying. But it seemed to entertain your friends.\"\n\n\"Thanks, Mom,\" Sean says, rolling his eyes.\n\n\"Was so damn nervous,\" Derek says, laughing and looking more insecure than Sean thinks he's ever seen him.\n\n\"Me too,\" Sean says. \"But that shit was amazing.\"\n\nDerek nods as Sean's dad steps up next to his wife and puts a hand on Sean's shoulder, squeezing gently and smiling. He stares at Sean for a moment before clearing his throat.\n\n\"You know I used to play the guitar,\" he says, then nods at his mother. \"Before I met her and she made me stop. Said guitars were for hippies.\"\n\nSean's mother slaps his dad lightly on the arm, and Sean knows that's his way of saying he liked their performance. And he realizes then that this banter with the people he loves—this acceptance of what he's been wasting his time on for the past seven months—is what he was searching for all along.\n\nThere's a few more pats on the back from other people milling around the bar, telling him it was fun, glad they came, things like that. Sean's parents leave after a moment, Sean coaxing them into letting Marcus stay with them as long as he promises not to let him drink (one beer won't hurt, Sean thinks). Two chicks from the back who Sean's never seen before buy him and Derek a couple of shots and Sean gets one of their numbers and—for like half a second—he feels like he's got groupies.\n\nAnd though it's not blatantly stated by any one person in the place, Sean can tell _Whatever_ 's debut performance wasn't a blockbuster event. They're a cover band who performed non-original material in a tiny bar in South Miami. There are no talent agents in the building, no contracts for three-album record deals on the horizon, and Sean feels both disappointed and stupid for entertaining the faint thought that this thing would cause them to blow up overnight. But still—nobody booed them, and everybody looks happy, and as Sean stands there next to his brother and best friend, listening to people's compliments, he feels enough motivation to want to keep this thing going for the foreseeable future.\n\nSean turns to the bar and asks Debbie the bartender for a shot of Patrón and a beer and she smiles, disappears then comes back a moment later to drop the shot and a Bud in front of him.\n\n\"On me,\" she says.\n\nSean raises an eyebrow, glances at the drinks then looks back at her.\n\n\"Thanks,\" he says.\n\n\"You guys sounded good,\" she says, winking and shaking her head. \" _Whatever_. Like the name.\"\n\nSean raises his glass and she nods then walks away. And hearing somebody else say it, it finally hits him that they're officially a band, that they've done everything that an actual band does. There's a huge paradigm shift that takes place in that moment, and Sean realizes that up until now he's been thinking of _Whatever_ as him, Derek, and Marcus _pretending_ to be an actual band. He always associated rock music with fame, success, platinum records and articles in _Rolling Stone_ and groupies and stacks of money and drugs and alcohol.\n\nBut a band is exactly what its definition says it is: a group.\n\nIn this case, a group of people playing music together.\n\nThey are a band.\n\nThey are _Whatever_.\n\nDerek, grinning ear to ear, throws Sean a thumbs up sign. Sean throws one back and chugs his beer, orders one more, and he's so happy he doesn't even know what to do with the overflow of emotion.\n\nThen his pocket vibrates and the mood of the night suddenly shifts. He pulls his phone out and sees a number he doesn't recognize, presses Talk and puts it to his ear.\n\n\"Hello?\" he says.\n\n\"Sean?\" the voice is strong, gruff, but definitely feminine.\n\n\"Yeah,\" he says, realizing he's tipsy and taking another sip of his beer.\n\n\"This is Caitlyn,\" the voice says. \"Lauren's sister.\"\n\nIt take him a second to find Lauren's name in his memory banks. Apparently a second too long for Lauren's sister.\n\n\"Lauren?\" she says exasperated. \"The woman you took to your place after work and fucked nine months ago? And I swear if you say 'which one' this conversation is—\"\n\nSomebody yells something in the background and there's a bunch of rustling and a muffled conversation and when Caitlyn comes back on the line, she sounds calmer. Sean just stands there with the phone to his ear, extremely confused.\n\n\"Do you know who I'm talking about?\" she asks.\n\n\"I know who Lauren is, Caitlyn,\" Sean says. \"What does she want?\"\n\n\"We need you to come to the hospital,\" she says. \"It's an emergency.\"\n\nSean feels a lot of conflicting emotions at that, the most of which is instant anger. This is not what he wanted to hear after he just had the biggest rush of his life.\n\n\"Why?\" he asks.\n\n\"Because it's your duty as—\"\n\nThere's a bunch of static and it sounds like something smacks into the phone and Sean pulls it away from his ear. There's a beep and the call disconnects and Sean stares at the blazing Call End sign displayed on the screen. Derek puts a hand on his shoulder.\n\n\"What happened?\" he asks.\n\n\"I don't know,\" Sean says, shrugging. \"Nothing, I guess.\"\n\nThe phone rings again and Sean picks it up, puts it to his ear without saying a word. Caitlyn doesn't hesitate.\n\n\"My sister would like me to ask you—kindly—if you'd please pass by Baptist Hospital at your earliest convenience, as a favor to her.\"\n\n\"Why?\" Sean asks again, feeling like a prick though he really has no idea why he should.\n\n\"Because—\" she starts to yell, then pauses, her voice leveling out. \"Because it would be a generous thing to do, and because Lauren really wants you here.\"\n\nThis makes Sean frown so hard his forehead hurts, even while it's making him feel kind of warm inside. Why Lauren would want him at the hospital while she's being admitted for whatever reason is a question he can't see there being a sane answer for. But it seems oddly sweet in its own way, considering he's only hung out with the girl twice, and only one of those encounters ended in any sort of desirable fashion.\n\n\"She wants me there?\" he asks.\n\n\"Yes,\" Caitlyn says, then there's more talking in the background. \"She says she'll explain when you get here.\" Caitlyn pauses. \"Is Derek with you?\" she asks.\n\n\"Derek?\" Sean says, and Derek looks up at him. \"Yeah, he's here. Why? You want to talk to him.\"\n\n\"No,\" she says quickly. \"I just—\" She clears her throat and there's another muffled conversation in the background. \"Just hurry up. Room 1298.\" Then she hangs up and Sean's left wondering what the fuck is going on.\n\n\"What the hell was that about?\" Marcus asks.\n\n\"I don't know,\" Sean says, looking at Derek. \"That was Lauren's sister.\"\n\n\"Caitlyn?\" Derek says, and he sounds so surprised and... _happy_ that Sean almost forgets why she called. He doesn't get what's going on—the haze of alcohol and the continued high of tonight's performance are making shit even harder to understand—but he's feeling like there's a lot of things happening here that he doesn't know about, things that other people _do_ know about, and this withholding of information is starting to piss him of.\n\n\"Yeah,\" Sean says slowly. \"She wants us to meet her at Baptist.\"\n\n\"Is she ok?\" he asks, and no doubt about it: there's fear in his voice.\n\n\"Yeah,\" Sean says. \"She asked about you actually. She's not being admitted, Lauren is. She wants me to come through.\" Sean pauses. \"I have no idea why.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" Derek says, and he's definitely avoiding Sean's eyes. \"She probably just wants to see you.\"\n\nHe goes quiet again and doesn't comment on Caitlyn asking about him.\n\n\"Caitlyn asked about you,\" Sean repeats.\n\n\"Oh,\" Derek says again. \"That's weird.\" He doesn't sound like he thinks it's weird at all.\n\n\"What the hell's going on?\" Marcus asks.\n\n\"Good question,\" Sean says.\n\n\"Are we going?\" Derek asks. \"I'll drive.\"\n\n\"Going where?\" Marcus asks.\n\n\"The hospital,\" Sean says.\n\n\"Why?\" Marcus asks, a look of concern touching the corners of his eyes. \"Everything ok?\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" Sean says. \"We're visiting Lauren.\"\n\n\"Who the fuck is Lauren?\"\n\n\"Somebody,\" Sean says, still watching Derek. \"Nobody. We're just going.\" He points at Derek. \"At some point you are going to tell me what this is all about.\"\n\n\"I don't know what this is all about,\" Derek says, standing and shaking his head. \"But I'm pretty sure we'll all find out soon.\"\n\n-31-\n\nLauren's filling out the paperwork and lying back on her bed wearing a hospital gown when her mom comes storming into the room with Rick groaning behind her.\n\n\"I really wish you'd called me _before_ you let them admit her here,\" her mom says to Caitlyn. Caitlyn rolls her eyes.\n\n\"What happened?\" Lauren asks Rick.\n\n\"Nothing,\" he says. \"The receptionist mixed up your info and sent us to the wrong room. Then when they put us in the right direction, one of the doctors told her you were in good hands so she should stop causing a commotion.\" He gives her mother a steely stare. \"Said she was disturbing the other patients.\"\n\n\"Mail order degrees do _not_ qualify you to be a doctor,\" she says flippantly. \"This place is running like we're still in the 60's.\"\n\n\"How's Justin?\" Lauren asks Rick, ignoring her mother.\n\n\"He's watching some movie in the kid's area,\" Rick says. \"They've got an attendant, but I don't want to leave him alone too long. How you doing?\"\n\n\"I'm fine,\" Lauren says.\n\n\"You'd be much more fine if they actually acted like a first rate medical center,\" her mother says, \"and not some third world hole-in-the-wall abortion clinic. How long have you been here now? When's the last time somebody even poked their head in to see how you're doing?\"\n\n\"Mom,\" Lauren groans. \"Please don't start with this. Everything's fine. They're taking care of me. I'm not dilated enough yet, there's nothing anybody can do but wait.\"\n\n\"It's not right though,\" she grumbles. \"I've got a bad feeling about this. They're not doing something they should be doing.\" She points at Caitlyn. \"She told me you were in an unusual amount of pain. Are they doing anything about that?\"\n\n\"The doctor's said the baby's positioning caused very brief oxygen loss,\" Lauren says. \"That's all. They shifted around a little and I'm fine now. Please, calm down.\"\n\nShe grumbles something then falls quiet, relenting. Caitlyn, standing in the corner of the room with her arms crossed, looks at her mother with a mixture of awe and disgust. Lauren chuckles in spite of herself. Rick chuckles too, patting her foot.\n\n\"So happy right now, babe,\" he says. Lauren's smile immediately drops. Rick takes a seat in the chair he set up earlier next to her, grabs hold of her hand and kisses it. His eyes are clearer than Lauren's ever seen them. Over the past couple of months, they adopted this perpetual remorseful tint whenever he looked at Lauren. Now he actually looks happy. Lauren feels so bad for him in that moment that she has to look away. He doesn't deserve what she knows is about to go down. He doesn't deserve anything but happiness. _Nobody_ deserves anything less. Lauren knows that now. She wants to release him from this purgatory, give him the freedom to go out and live the rest of his life without regret.\n\nRick notices her getting emotional and squeezes her hand.\n\n\"So happy,\" he says again, with less conviction. He knows something's up, but he thinks it has to do with the baby. Which, Lauren guesses, it does. Caitlyn hasn't said a word to Rick, not since she called him to come over here. Which would be fine if it wasn't for the fact that she won't even look him in the eye. Lauren wishes she would at least be her normal bitchy self. Right now she's like a statue in the corner though, not speaking to anybody. After she got off the phone with Sean, then Rick, then their mother, she shut her mouth and has said maybe five words to Lauren since. In this, she is exactly like their mother: anger leading to either rants and raves or the silent treatment. She's obviously opted for the latter.\n\nLauren doesn't blame Caitlyn for being mad at her though. Her sister's all about trust. Part of the reason she's so skeptical about men is because she believes it's impossible to trust a \"creature that thinks with its genitals; genitals have no sense of loyalty\" (her exact words).\n\nSo Lauren gets it. Caitlyn feels betrayed. The idea that Lauren would wait this long to tell her something as important as the father of her child not being who she thought it was doesn't sit well with her, though Lauren would like to point out that nobody knew, and Caitlyn was technically the first to find out.\n\nLauren's mother and Rick have been hovering ever since they showed up though, making it impossible for Lauren to reconcile with her sister without telling them everything, which she's not ready to do yet.\n\nLauren's mother paces the room, touching instruments she shouldn't be touching and tsking every few seconds. With that going on, Rick sitting next to her with dreamy eyes, and Caitlyn standing in the corner fuming, it's eerily silent in here. _Awkwardly_ silent, and depressing, like Lauren's seconds away from being euthanized rather than bringing new life into the world.\n\n\"Did you finish the paperwork?\" Rick asks.\n\nLauren picks up the clipboard on her lap. She filled out all of the sections of the birth certificate but the lines asking for the father and the baby's name. The former she can't write because she doesn't want Rick to find out like that; the latter she can't fill out until she finds out the sex of the baby. She's spent the better part of six months trying to figure out what to name this child, running over both boys and girls names in her head and coming up with nothing. She doesn't know what that means, if it means anything.\n\n\"I'm almost done,\" Lauren says. \"Just resting a little.\"\n\n\"I can fill it out for you,\" he says.\n\n\"No, I got it,\" Lauren says.\n\nRick shrugs and smiles.\n\n\"You look so worried,\" he says. \"Everything's going to be fine, babe. The doctor says all your vitals look great, and the baby's fine.\"\n\n\"I know,\" she whispers. Rick fake pouts a little, sticking out his bottom lip and rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb in a gesture that is so mushy and sweet it makes her nose tingle. Lauren closes her eyes and suddenly wishes more than anything that this baby was Rick's. Not out of love, but out of pity. Because this is going to kill him. Which is exactly, she realizes in that moment, the real reason she never told him the truth. The moment she told him she was pregnant, standing in the doorway of their apartment eight months ago, his face changed. He instantly aligned himself with the identity of fathering a second child, and she was so angry at him and the _world_ for putting her in that position that she just let him think it, knowing eventually she'd be able to bring his world crashing down.\n\nApparently her subconscious mind has a touch of sadism.\n\n\"Everything is _going_ to be fine,\" she says, echoing him. She pauses for a long time, opening her eyes and making sure to catch his. \"Eventually,\" she adds.\n\nRick smiles, seemingly not noticing her tone. Lauren looks to Caitlyn for some sort of help, reassurance, anything. Nothing from that end though. She won't even look in Lauren's direction. Lauren closes her eyes again, feels the baby squirming around in her belly, anxious. Lauren wants to tell him—or her—not to rush it. You can't go back once you're out, and it's a one way street to death after that. No choice but to weather the storm.\n\nShe also thinks that this may be the most depressing childbirth ever.\n\nA contraction hits her then and Lauren sits up, sucking in a deep breath and grabbing Rick's hand. When it passes, she leans back and a mist of sweat pops up on her forehead. Rick leans back in the same manner, shaking the hand she just squeezed. Lauren's grateful when the hospital room door opens and the nurse comes in, walking briskly over to the beeping machines hooked up to her arm and belly.\n\n\"About time,\" Lauren's mother says, and Lauren glares at her. The nurse ignores her, poking at the beeping monitor next to Lauren.\n\n\"Everything's in order,\" she says. \"A little faster than I thought, to be honest. But that's fine. Your contractions are getting closer, so it shouldn't be long. When they reach about five minutes apart, we'll start prepping. Doctor Sanchez will be with you in a moment. Until then, just press the button if you need anything.\"\n\n\"She presses that button and you respond immediately,\" Lauren's mother says, less a question than an order. The nurse nods and walks out without elaborating, and Lauren's pretty sure her mother's managed to piss off the entire staff in this place.\n\nLauren thinks about what \"five minutes apart\" means, the pain she just felt occurring at intervals moving down to every four minutes, then three, then two, ultimately becoming one constant, pelvic-pounding hurt until her baby's born. It almost seems fitting too, some sort of penance for the circumstances in which her child was conceived.\n\nLauren pauses, realizes what her thought just implied, and is suddenly overcome with shame.\n\nStop this shit, she tells herself.\n\nDo not do that.\n\nDo not turn this pregnancy—the miracle of birth—into an act of penance. This isn't biblical times. She's a woman who acted out of emotion, which most human beings tend to do. It was perfectly normal what she did with Sean, a reaction and an action she needs to stop beating herself up about.\n\nAnd with that thought, Lauren not only forgives herself, but finally realizes that she's done nothing wrong, that—up until now—she's been berating herself for how she got pregnant when, in fact, it's nothing she could have controlled. And nothing she would have wanted to control even if she'd been able to. It was life, happening. And she already loves this baby more than life itself.\n\nLauren touches Rick's shoulder. He smiles at her and she opens her mouth to tell him the truth just as the room door opens again and in walks Sean with his roommate and another teenage kid who she assumes is Sean's brother by the resemblance. Sean takes one long look at Lauren, then Rick, then glances at everybody else. Sean's roommate's eyes head straight to Caitlyn, as do the kid's. Caitlyn chuckles humorlessly.\n\n\"Took you fucking long enough,\" she says, clapping her hands together. \"Let's get this party started.\"\n\n-32-\n\nThe moment they get in the car Derek plays the Kevin Hart station on Pandora, so by time they get to Baptist the three of them are giggling like drunken school girls surrounded by hyenas. They stumble through the corridors and get all types of looks from doctors, nurses, and patients alike. After asking around for a while, they're finally pointed in the right direction, headed towards room 1298.\n\nWhen they get to the hall where Lauren's room is, Sean stops and turns to Marcus and Derek, suddenly serious.\n\n\"Alright,\" he says. \"Chill out. This girl's hot. Don't fuck it up for me, go in acting all stupid and shit.\"\n\nMarcus gives him a fake, exaggerated look of seriousness and Derek busts out laughing and Sean realizes he probably would've been better off just staying quiet. He sighs and walks up to Lauren's room door, knocks once and opens it and there's Lauren, lying on a bed with a guy he doesn't recognize sitting near, her sister standing against the wall next to an older woman he assumes is her mother (seeing as how she and Caitlyn are almost identically hot as shit; like, it should be illegal how hot these women are).\n\nThe scene isn't what Sean expected, but he recovers quickly (thank you, alcohol) and turns to say hi to Caitlyn but she's looking past him at Derek, smiling. Sean looks at Derek and he's got a goofy grin on his face too, the two of them staring at each other like they're on a soap opera. Once again Sean gets that mixture of annoyance and confusion, then Caitlyn points at him.\n\n\"Took you fucking long enough,\" she says. \"Let's get this party started.\"\n\n\"Caitlyn!\" her mother yells.\n\n\"What?\" she says, shrugging. \"I called them like forever ago.\"\n\n\"We were at a show,\" Derek says. \"And we couldn't find the room. The signs in here are confusing.\"\n\n\"The lack of direction in this place as a whole is a travesty,\" her mother says, then approaches Derek and Marcus. \"I'm Katherine, Lauren and Caitlyn's mother.\"\n\n\"Derek,\" Derek says, taking her hand and nodding at Sean. \"Sean's friend.\"\n\nMarcus reaches his hand out, his eyes never leaving Caitlyn (more specifically, Caitlyn's tits).\n\n\"I'm Marcus,\" Marcus says. \"Sean's brother.\"\n\nKatherine turns to Sean and he waits for her to hold a hand out or something but she crosses her arms and eyes him suspiciously.\n\n\"I'm Sean,\" he says, glancing at Marcus. \"Just...Sean.\"\n\nNobody says anything for another couple of seconds and Sean looks at Lauren, who is definitely avoiding his eyes. The guy sitting next to her has his arms stiff at his sides, turning his head from Lauren to Sean and back with a look on his face that's definitely asking why Sean is here. And Sean would love to tell the dude that, just lay it out in front of him, but Sean has no clue why he's here either.\n\n\"So I guess this _has_ turned into a little party,\" Katherine says.\n\n\"Whoop dee fucking doo,\" Caitlyn grumbles, then smiles tiredly at Derek. He smiles back and approaches her and Sean opens his mouth to say something to them but Lauren clears her throat, drawing his attention back in her direction where she's now staring at him with a smile and watery eyes. Sean approaches the bed, watching Lauren as she takes slow, deep breaths. And it's during this approach that he finally notices.\n\n\"Holy shit, you're pregnant.\"\n\nLauren nods, still smiling, though the expression looks painful now.\n\n\"Hi,\" she says.\n\n\"Hey,\" Sean says. \"What's up?\" He cringes a little. \"I mean, obviously that's what up,\" he says, pointing at her stomach.\n\n\"Yeah,\" she says, chuckling. She touches the swell gingerly. \"Not too long now.\"\n\n\"I didn't know,\" he says, his head swirling a bit as he starts to sober up.\n\n\"I know,\" she says, glancing cautiously at the guy next to her, who's still staring at Sean with a look of supreme confusion on his face. \"Kind of why I called you here.\"\n\nSean raises an eyebrow at that and the guy next to her clears his throat. Sean turns to him and holds his hand out.\n\n\"Sean,\" he says.\n\n\"Rick,\" he says, taking Sean's hand and dropping it all in one motion. \"Um, sorry to be blunt, Sean, but, seeing as how nobody else is asking...who are you and why are you here?\"\n\n\"Rick,\" Lauren says. \"Be nice.\"\n\n\"I'm just asking,\" he says, keeping his eyes on Sean.\n\nSean opens his mouth to respond but he still has no idea what to say. As far as he knows—as far as this situation goes at least—he's nobody. So he shrugs, turns to Caitlyn.\n\n\"She called me here,\" he says.\n\nRick nods absently and pats Lauren on her hand. And now she just looks terrified.\n\n\"Rick,\" she says.\n\n\"What is it, babe?\" Rick says, leaning in. Hearing the man call her _babe_ gives Sean a sudden flash of jealousy that he tells himself is unwarranted and irrational. Then again, jealousy's rarely rational as it is.\n\n\"You know,\" Lauren says, speaking slowly, carefully. \"I'm thankful for everything you've done these past few months.\"\n\n\"I try,\" he says, smiling and nodding.\n\n\"I know,\" Lauren says, and as she does, a tear slips down her cheek. \"And that's why it was so hard. Why it _is_ so hard. I didn't know how to tell you.\" She glances at Sean. \"Or you, Sean. I still don't, actually. I didn't think you'd come if I told you over the phone and I didn't think you'd understand, Rick, if I told you before. I didn't want to, don't want to, even though I always knew I had to.\" She swipes at her cheeks and takes a deep breath, her bottom lip quivering. \"And at first it was easy because I wanted to hurt you, wanted to save it for the right moment, for\"—Lauren motions around the room—\" _this_ moment. But then I wasn't so angry anymore. And then I didn't tell you because I was just...scared. You too, Sean. Either way, it was wrong, and I want you both to know, before I say anything else, that I don't mean to hurt you, either of you right now. I really don't.\" Lauren pauses, absently picking at her fingers. \"I know it's going to hurt you, Rick,\" she whispers. \"But I promise you that isn't my intention.\"\n\n\"Babe,\" Rick says, his head cocked to the side a little, his face contorted into something between a smile and a grimace. \"What the hell are you talking about?\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" Sean says, and even though he's sobering up he's still tipsy, so there's no fighting it when he opens his mouth and says \"What the fuck _are_ you talking about?\"\n\n\"Yo!\" Rick yells suddenly, turning on Sean so quick, Sean jumps back and brings up his hands defensively. \"With all due respect, _Sean_.\" He clenches his fists and growls. \"Don't talk to my wife like that.\"\n\n\"Your _wife_?\" Sean says, then turns to Lauren and yells, \"your _husband_? You're fucking _married_?\"\n\n\"Lauren, who is this joker?\" Rick says, glaring at Sean and then at her. \"I want him out of here.\"\n\n\"Please, Rick,\" Lauren says.\n\n\"Joker?\" Sean says, then laughs and turns to Derek, who's standing next to Caitlyn and—are they holding hands?—watching this screwed up situation unfold. Caitlyn's still standing against the wall, fixated, like they're on a TV screen, Marcus smiling and looking around the room at each person like he knows what's going on even though it's obvious he doesn't. Lauren's mother has her hand against her forehead and is muttering something. Sean turns back to Rick.\n\n\"Joker?\" he repeats. \"You have _no_ idea buddy.\"\n\n\"What's that supposed to mean?\" he asks.\n\n\"Rick,\" Lauren says.\n\n\"Ask her,\" Sean says, turning on Lauren. \"See what your trusty wife has to say.\"\n\n\"Boys,\" Katherine says from behind them.\n\n\"God,\" Caitlyn says to Derek. \"I can't believe I actually thought there was a way for this _not_ to be dramatic.\"\n\n\"Sean,\" Lauren says.\n\n\"Dude,\" Marcus says. \"I'm so confused right now.\"\n\n\"You know what?\" Rick says, planting a fist into his palm, which doesn't look nearly as threatening as he obviously thinks it does. \"I don't care who you are or who told you to come here, I want you all out. Now.\"\n\n\"My pleasure,\" Sean spits. \"I didn't ask for this shit.\" Sean turns to Derek. \"Fucking up my buzz anyways, should be celebrating right now.\"\n\n\"Sean's the father!\" Lauren yells.\n\nThe silence that hits the room in that moment has substance, expanding the moment the words leave Lauren's mouth and growing until the room's practically about to burst with the awkward nothingness that inevitably rides on the coattails of revelations of this magnitude.\n\nIn Sean's mind, he thinks of absolutely nothing for a full ten seconds. Literally, ten seconds of mental blankness. He doesn't process the words or anything; instead, he tucks himself away and the words just sort of sit outside the door of his mind, knocking lightly at first then more violently until they're finally trying to break down the door, screaming outside the window like some FBI task force while Sean's inside his head, rocking back and forth and muttering consoling words to himself, pretending nobody's out there.\n\nDerek finally stops paying attention to Caitlyn, his eyes wider than should be possible. Marcus is still smiling with his mouth open like somebody just told him a joke and never got to the punch line, like he's ready to laugh his ass off as soon as he figures out what there is to laugh about.\n\nThe silence is quickly demolished when Rick lets out a hoot. Sean turns to him and he's bent over Lauren's legs, and Sean thinks he's crying until Rick stands up straight and Sean sees that he's laughing so hard his face looks like it's about to burst. He turns to Sean and laughs even harder, looks over at Caitlyn and her mother and Marcus and his eyes stream tears, his mouth opening wider as he looks at Derek, and puts a hand against his chest.\n\nAnd unfortunately, the shit's infectious. Especially when Sean sees how funny the situation _actually_ is, how climactic this all seems and how much it discredits everything that's been going on with him the past two years, and before he knows it he's laughing his ass off too, stumbling to the bed. Soon, both Sean and Rick are hysterical, Rick coughing between heaves, Sean swiping at his face like he's got pink eye or something. Nobody else in the room says a word throughout any of it, which sort of makes things awkward after a while so Rick and Sean have to stop laughing gradually, the madness dying down in levels until they're both just breathing hard and letting out occasional guffaws.\n\nWhen it's completely gone, the silence comes back double time, an _ocean_ of silence rushing in for all of a moment before Rick takes two steps towards Sean, cocks his fist back, and knocks him the fuck out.\n\n-33-\n\nEverything happens kind of fast after that.\n\nSean hits the ground. Hard.\n\nLauren hears the slap of his skin against the floor and she can't help it: she screams.\n\nThen Sean's roommate takes one step towards Rick and punches him with the same arcing downward strike Rick just punched Sean with. His fist connects with a crack and Rick hits the ground too, and Lauren can't help it this time either: she screams again.\n\nLauren's mother stands next to her with a hand on her forehead, shaking her head.\n\n\"This is bad, so bad,\" she says, over and over again.\n\nSean's roommate bends over after hitting Rick, groaning and holding his punching hand. Sean's brother screams something inaudible, some sort of primitive warrior battle cry and attempts to finish Rick off, but Sean's roommate stands quickly in his way, grabbing him and restraining him while grimacing and holding his injured hand in the air.\n\n\"Derek,\" Caitlyn yells, showing an uncharacteristic and oddly intimate amount of concern for Derek as she hops over to him. She gingerly checks his hand, elevating it and hugging him a little as she helps him and Sean's enraged brother towards the door. Lauren absently wonders how long that's been going on, a little upset that Caitlyn didn't tell her and has the audacity to be mad at her for not revealing who the father of her baby was.\n\nAnd while all of this is happening, Lauren lies immobile on the bed, trying to slow her breathing because her contractions are coming with increasing frequency now. Before the trio of Caitlyn, Derek, and Sean's brother can leave though, the door opens and the nurse comes back in. She surveys the room and sees Rick on the floor groaning, Sean staring at the ceiling and blinking rapidly, Caitlyn holding Derek's hand up as it quickly turns purple, and Lauren on the bed hyperventilating.\n\n\"What's going on in here?\" she asks angrily.\n\n\"Forget the details,\" Lauren's mother says loudly. She points at Sean, then Rick, then Derek. \"These men all need medical attention.\" She turns back to Lauren. \"And I believe my daughter is about to have a baby.\"\n\n\"Ok,\" the nurse says sternly, putting a hand on her hip. \"I need everybody out of here. Now, before I call security.\"\n\n\"No,\" Lauren says. Breathe in, out. \"She stays,\" she gasps, pointing at her mom, who steps towards her as Lauren reaches out for her hand. The affection Lauren sees in her eyes then is something only a mother can muster.\n\nLauren doesn't know if Sean and Rick hear the nurse's order or not—both of them continue to lie on the floor, moaning and rolling around—but after a moment the nurse sighs and rolls her eyes, finally calling somebody to come in and help them out. As they leave, Derek follows behind with Caitlyn and Marcus. Then Lauren's alone with the nurse and her mother. A few moments later Dr. Sanchez comes in and almost the moment he approaches her Lauren's hit with one final gut-wrenching contraction that seems to last for days, her mother next to her the whole time holding her hand. Lauren swoons in and out, the pain alternating between bearable and unbearable, and Lauren is vaguely conscious of Dr. Sanchez's head between her legs. He keeps disappearing beneath her gown, popping up every few seconds, gently coaxing her along in a voice that never used to bother her but is unnerving now.\n\n\"Just breathe, Lauren,\" he says, repeatedly. \"Breathe in, out, in, out, breathe.\"\n\n\"I _am_ fucking breathing,\" Lauren yells, squeezing her mom's hand even harder and yelling at her, \"Tell him to stop fucking telling me to breathe, I am fucking breathing.\"\n\n\"I know, baby,\" she says. \"It's okay.\"\n\n\"It's not okay,\" Lauren screams. \" _Get this thing out of me_.\"\n\n\"Almost there, baby,\" her mother says, stepping over to where Dr. Sanchez's head is, and the look of disgust on her face is very clear, even as she tries to hide it with a smile that looks very much like a scowl. \"Just breathe,\" she echoes.\n\nLauren groans loudly, a sound that doesn't taper off at the end like it normally would but seems to evolve into something ancient, guttural, until it feels like her lungs are about to explode out of her mouth at the same time everything below her lungs is seemingly going to explode out of her vagina. This is not just the feeling she has, but the thought, the vivid image that travels through her head and is so horrifying she's reminded of every slasher film she's ever seen, along with all those Alien and Predator movies, and then the thought of the Alien films makes her think of those face-huggers in the movies that plant alien eggs in the ship crews' lungs, leaving them there to incubate and mature and grow until they're ready to hatch by bursting out of the infected person's chest, and at this point she realizes she's screaming so loud her voice is cracking and failing, dying more and more with each breath she takes. The pain that began in her lower abdomen—what seems like _years_ ago—spreads throughout her entire body now, reaching every nerve ending of every appendage until it's like Lauren's no longer Lauren, no longer a single human being but part of some much larger organism: the embodiment of \"Pain.\"\n\nAnd at that moment, in that instant of total immersion in the sensation, Lauren can't help but also feel a sense of wonder at the completeness of the experience. Because right there, right now, for the first time in as long as she can remember, there is nothing outside of her, nothing outside of _this_. She opens her eyes and she's in this room, her mother staring at her with wide eyes, Dr. Sanchez raising his head and his mouth forming the word \"Push\"—she can't hear anything over the wailing in her ears, which on some level she understands is her own voice still screaming—but there's nothing outside of this room, almost as if this entire area has been transported to the vacuum of space. And as her stomach ripples and she involuntary clenches everything within her, she has the fleeting thought—even as she's wishing for it just to be over, for this pressure and pain to just go away—that she could be content here, in this moment forever. Because it is whole, free of worry or expectation. Just emotion and pain, raw and natural. Nothing more, nothing less.\n\nThen there's a release and suddenly the pain and pressure's gone, and it's so sweet that Lauren wonders what the fuck she was thinking.\n\nShe blinks a few times, spots swimming in front of her eyes, slowly disappearing to reveal Dr. Sanchez's face, his smiling mouth as he hands Lauren a beautiful, squirming, oily baby girl, and Lauren immediately forgets everything that just transpired. Her mother wipes her sweaty forehead with a cool towel and her eyes glisten. Lauren stares at her daughter, then slowly glances up at her mother, who looks back down at Lauren, smiles and nods.\n\n\"You've got a mouth on you,\" she says.\n\nLauren keeps staring at her, not having the energy to respond.\n\n\"You won't remember it,\" she says. \"Which is probably for the best. But you were very inventive. I'm glad that Sean fellow wasn't here to hear it. I don't think that would be a good way to start a relationship.\" She pauses. \"If that is, in fact, what you two plan on doing. Not necessary, of course.\" She crosses her arms and shakes her head, then looks away. \"You could have told me.\"\n\n\"I didn't tell anybody, Mom,\" Lauren says hoarsely, smiling at her. \"In case you didn't notice the chaos.\"\n\nHer mother's eyes search Lauren's, and she brushes a lock of hair out of her face.\n\n\"Doesn't matter,\" she says, putting a finger against the bundle in Lauren's arms. \"She's beautiful.\"\n\nLauren readjusts her daughter in her arms, trying to imagine what she's going to name her. Then she stops thinking and enjoys the feel of her gentle body, her legs involuntarily kicking beneath the blankets.\n\n\"Welcome to the world, baby girl,\" Lauren whispers, and she starts crying and smiling at the same time. \"Hope your time here's less stressful than mine's been so far.\"\n\n-34-\n\nSean wakes up in darkness, so he doesn't really know he's awake until a door opens and a light turns on, blinding him and bringing all his senses back in one swift burst of:\n\n\"Fuck,\" he whispers, closing his eyes again.\n\nThe left side of his face feels like it's trying to separate from the rest of his body, and when he opens his eyes again—squinting—he can't see anything but a hazy silhouette of a person in front of him. It takes him a moment to realize the figure is talking to him.\n\n\"Sean,\" it says. \"Sean, can you hear me?\"\n\nSean grunts and rubs his eyes, curses again when his hand brushes his swollen cheek. When he brings his hand down he can see again, and surveys the room.\n\nFirst pertinent point he notices: Derek and Marcus standing in the doorway, Derek's arm in a sling, his hand wrapped in gauze. Marcus is next to him, chewing on his lip and shuffling his weight from foot to foot.\n\nThey both look worried, and Sean can't figure out why until he looks down and notices the second pertinent point: he's lying on a hospital bed. It's a double occupancy room, a middle aged guy sleeping restlessly on the other bed. The man keeps twitching and muttering something, a white blanket covering him up to the waist.\n\nThe third thing Sean notices: the figure in the room, standing next to the bed, wearing a doctor's coat and holding a clipboard. He feels an inkling of familiarity, and as his vision focuses Sean's throat clamps shut and he's barely able to squeak out:\n\n\"Maria.\"\n\nMaria smiles. Sean dated the girl for three years, so he knows her facial expressions. This is her I'm-going-to-act-like-everything's-okay-for-the-sake-of-the-other-people-in-this-room-but-really-you're-pissing-me-off-Sean smile.\n\n\"What happened?\" Sean asks, even as the memory slides into his mind and he sees Rick's fist coming at his face. He winces again. \"Shit,\" he says.\n\nDerek and Marcus keep staring at him.\n\n\"What day is it, Sean?\" Maria asks him.\n\nSean thinks about it for a second and remembers _Whatever_ 's performance earlier.\n\n\"Friday,\" he says.\n\nMaria pulls a pen out and puts it in front of his face abruptly. Sean flinches away and she clicks something and suddenly there's a light in his face.\n\n\"Follow the light,\" she says.\n\n\"It hurts,\" Sean says.\n\n\"Your head?\"\n\n\"No,\" Sean says. \"I mean, yeah. But the light.\"\n\n\"Just follow the damn light, Sean.\"\n\nSean does what she says, and soon there's another click and the light goes out, leaving spots in front of his eyes. Maria puts the pen away and puts her palm to his head. Her hands are still soft.\n\n\"Any nausea?\" she asks.\n\n\"No,\" Sean grumbles.\n\nMaria nods and takes a step back, crossing her arms.\n\n\"I should have just let them arrest you,\" she says, glaring at him so hard he swears he can feel it in his forehead, like a laser. \"I work here, Sean. This is my job.\"\n\n\"Shit,\" Sean says again.\n\n\" _And_ you're drunk,\" Maria adds, wrinkling her nose. \"You stink.\" She shakes her head and uncrosses her arms, putting her hands on her hips. \"Did it occur to you that getting a call that my ex just got in a fight in the maternity ward would reflect badly on me?\"\n\n\"I didn't start it,\" Sean says, sitting up and wincing at the cracking pain that rushes through his head. \"The guy decked me. Believe me, I didn't ask for that.\"\n\n\"Actually, you kind of did,\" Marcus says, glancing at Derek. \"When you...uh...got his wife pregnant?\"\n\n\"Kid's got a point,\" Derek says.\n\n\"Shut up,\" Sean says.\n\n\"What?\" Maria says, eyes wide.\n\n\"Thanks for telling me by the way, asshole,\" Marcus says. \"Thought brothers shared shit like that.\"\n\n\"I didn't know she was married,\" Sean says. \"Or pregnant.\"\n\n\"Doesn't really change it though,\" Derek says. \"I'd have hit you too.\"\n\n\"You're not helping,\" Sean snaps, glaring at him. He shrugs and Marcus laughs.\n\nMaria looks from Derek to Sean to the ceiling.\n\n\"I don't want to know anymore,\" she says, throwing her hands up. \"Just keep it down. There are people trying to rest around here.\"\n\nAs if on cue, the old guy in the other bed lets out a snort, grumbles something about pecan pie then quiets down again.\n\n\"Put some ice on that and take some ibuprofen,\" Maria says, pointing at Sean's cheek. Sean studies her face and she seems a little older. Not like old-woman older, just more experienced. It fits her. Concern touches her eyes, crinkling the corners. \"And stay out of trouble, Sean. You're better than this.\"\n\n\"You sure about that?\" Sean asks, and Maria smiles, shaking her head and turning away.\n\nAt the door she pauses, surveying Marcus and Derek.\n\n\"Nice seeing you again, Derek,\" she says. \"Sorry about you and Kristina.\"\n\n\"Don't mention it,\" he says, shrugging and glancing at Sean.\n\n\"Things always happen for a reason,\" she says.\n\n\"Yeah,\" Derek says quietly.\n\n\"Marcus,\" Maria says.\n\n\"Maria,\" Marcus says, holding his chin higher than normal and meeting Maria's eyes with wavering confidence. Sean feels pride knowing that the gesture's meant for his benefit, even though it's totally unnecessary.\n\n\"You look good,\" Maria says.\n\nMarcus's eyes drop and he smiles.\n\nA seventeen year old boy? Around a woman as beautiful as Maria? The kid didn't stand a chance.\n\nSean watches her as she steps around Derek and Marcus, who opens the door for her. Sean waits for the sinking feeling in his stomach as he watches her walk away, the same one he felt almost two years ago when she walked out of their apartment. But instead there's only relief. He has no idea where the relief's coming from. All he knows is he's been beating the crap out of himself for a really long time over things he never had control of, and now he's done. Just like that.\n\nMaybe that's what grief actually is, a mask of shitty existence that covers up the inside of a person's psyche, where all the actual recovery work is going on. Then one day you wake up and the grief is gone and you've got a scab where it used to be. And soon, the scab turns into a scar, one of those faint marks somebody notices on your arm or leg and asks you where you got it and you have to think about it for a really long time before you remember and tell them about the incident like it's something that happened to somebody else.\n\nSometime in the past few months, Sean actually got over Maria. And—on a smaller scale—Leon. He was just spending too much time feeling sorry for himself to notice.\n\nSean lies back on the bed as the door closes and Derek and Marcus walk over. Marcus stands next to him and stares at his face with a look of disgust.\n\n\"You look like shit,\" he says.\n\n\"Thanks,\" Sean says, chuckling and wincing at the same time.\n\n\"Seriously,\" Marcus says. \"This is like the craziest night. That was fucking intense.\"\n\n\"How is she?\" Sean asks.\n\n\"Who?\" Marcus says, and Derek looks at him like he's stupid. Marcus shakes his head and rolls his eyes. \"Oh yeah, Lauren.\" He pauses, his eyes getting all cloudy. \"Her sister is _so_ hot.\"\n\nDerek smacks him in the head and Marcus winces.\n\n\"She had the baby about an hour ago,\" Derek says.\n\n\"How long have I been out?\" Sean asks.\n\n\"You woke up for a minute in the room, then when we put you here you fell asleep for like an hour.\"\n\n\"Shit,\" Sean says. \"That dude Rick's got a hook on him.\"\n\n\"Guy was a prick,\" Derek says.\n\nSean points at Derek's bandaged arm in the sling. Derek flexes his hand a little and grimaces, then shrugs, giving Sean a crooked smile.\n\n\"Seriously,\" Derek says. \"A prick.\"\n\nThey both laugh at that, then groan in pain, then laugh again.\n\n\"You guys sound old,\" Marcus says.\n\n\"Shut up,\" Derek says, then looks at Sean. \"Let's go see your daughter?\"\n\n\"It's a girl?\" Sean squeaks, his throat clamping shut again, this time with so much force he starts coughing. His balls shrivel up so fast they feel like they're jetting up into his stomach. When the coughs subside he looks at Derek. \"I have a daughter?\"\n\n\"Yup.\"\n\nSean lets that sink in for a moment as he stands up from the bed, his head getting light.\n\n\"I have a daughter,\" he repeats, whispering.\n\n\"Yeah, dude,\" Marcus says, hopping to the door. \"How did _that_ happen?\"\n\n\"Well, you see, Marcus,\" Derek starts. \"Sometimes, when a man and a woman like each other, they do this thing where—\"\n\n\"Screw you, man,\" Marcus says, opening the door and trudging along behind Sean and Derek, Sean's heart hammering so hard in his chest he's scared he might have a heart attack before he even gets a chance to see his daughter.\n\nHis. Daughter.\n\nShit.\n\n-35-\n\nLauren sleeps for a long time and dreams she's in a room with her daughter in her arms. The place is enormous, one of those aquarium rooms like the ones they have at Sea World in Orlando, surrounded with thick glass so you can look out into the body of water on the other side and see all the animals swimming around. Only, rather than animals in this one, there's a sea of swimming faces. There's Lauren's mother. Caitlyn and Justin. Her boss, Steve, and both the morning and night cashiers from CVS. There's Sean, his brother and Derek. Lauren's dad floats past and winks at her and she chokes up. Even Rick is in there, and he's smiling. She's surrounded by everybody she's ever cared about and her baby is peaceful in her arms. And she knows babies can't see when they're first born, but she swears her daughter's looking up at her with recognition in her eyes, and Lauren wants nothing more than for her to grow up with as normal a life as possible.\n\nAt the thought, Lauren's suddenly back in her hospital room. Her mother's sitting in the corner next to Caitlyn, fussing over her granddaughter swaddled in blankets. Lauren clears her throat, winces a little at the soreness, and moves herself into a more upright position. Caitlyn stands and comes over, smiling and brushing Lauren's hair out of her face.\n\n\"She's beautiful,\" Caitlyn says, sitting in the chair next to Lauren's bed.\n\n\"You, her, and Justin can stay with me for the first few months,\" he mother says. \"At least until you get back on your feet.\"\n\nCaitlyn opens her mouth to say something then pauses, staring at her mother then looking back at Lauren and rolling her eyes.\n\n\"Up to you,\" she says.\n\n\"Can I hold her?\" Lauren asks, and her mother brings her daughter over.\n\nLooking at her, Lauren suddenly realizes she hasn't named her yet. There's still nothing coming to the forefront of her mind, but in thinking about names, Lauren starts looking back at everything that led to her birth, everything that's happened in the past nine months, all the ups and downs, the self-doubt and dramatic situations. Lauren thinks about the seemingly chaotic nature of it all, of the train wreck that is her family and life and _everybody's_ life in general, and how it all still came together to create something as beautiful as the child lying in her arms right now.\n\n\"Harmony,\" Lauren says.\n\n\"What?\" her mother asks.\n\n\"Harmony,\" Lauren repeats, looking up at her sister and mother. \"Her name's Harmony.\"\n\nHer mother and Caitlyn both roll the name around.\n\n\"Har-mo-ny,\" her mother says, slowly.\n\n\"I love it,\" Caitlyn says.\n\n\"Me too,\" her mother says.\n\nLauren looks at her mother, and she can't help it.\n\n\"I wish Dad was here too,\" Lauren says.\n\nHer mother's face drops for a moment, as does Caitlyn's. Lauren waits for the outburst, for somebody to say something that will destroy this rare, tender moment between the three of them. Instead her mother swipes at her eyes and smiles again.\n\n\"He would have loved it too,\" she says. \"He would have loved her.\" She glances at Caitlyn. \"The way he loved you both.\"\n\nHer voice cracks on that note and she turns away. Lauren rearranges the warm bundle in her arms as her mother walks towards the door, taking one look back before pushing it open and ramming into a startled and bruised Sean. He lets out a yell and there's a commotion at the door as he bends over, Lauren's mother saying sorry over and over again as she leans towards him and reveals Derek and Sean's brother, waiting in the hall with smirks on their faces. Caitlyn waves at Derek with her fingers lingering in the air, a move Lauren knows but rarely sees from her sister outside of her job at Hooters, as it is so clearly flirtatious.\n\n\"Apparently,\" Lauren says, catching Caitlyn's eyes. \"We've all got secrets.\"\n\nCaitlyn shrugs and smiles and sticks her tongue out. Lauren smiles back as Sean recovers from the collision and enters the room with a hand against his face. His eyes immediately jump to the bundle in Lauren's arms and he lowers his hand. Lauren glances down at her daughter.\n\nTheir daughter.\n\n\"Harmony,\" she whispers. \"Meet your father.\"\n\nAnd Sean's face in that moment—the right side slightly swollen and his eye puffy—is so transparent, his entire demeanor making it so obvious he's scared out of his mind, that Lauren can't help but laugh.\n\n-36-\n\nCaitlyn waves at Derek, smiling shyly and Sean throws his hands up.\n\n\"Ok,\" he says to Derek. \"That's it. How long's this been going on?\"\n\n\"What?\" Derek asks.\n\n\"You two,\" Sean says. \"Don't play with me, Derek. I've known you forever, I can tell when you're lying.\"\n\nDerek opens his mouth then closes it as Caitlyn walks over, her mother watching them all with this mixture of amusement and annoyance on her face.\n\n\"Things are complicated enough right now,\" Caitlyn says, and Sean's surprised when she takes a step towards Derek and entwines her hand in his. She rubs a finger across his sling, then pats it gently. \"We don't want to make it more complicated.\"\n\nSean holds his hands up, waving them off.\n\n\"Whatever,\" he says. \"None of my business anyways. Just one thing: what about Kristina?\"\n\n\"We broke up,\" Derek says.\n\nSean throws his hands up again.\n\n\"Does anybody tell me _anything_ anymore?\"\n\n\"It was bound to happen sooner or later,\" Derek says.\n\n\"Yeah,\" Sean says. \"Because she's a bitch.\"\n\n\"No,\" Derek says, sternly. \"I mean, me telling you was bound to happen. You were just so focused on the band and all, I didn't feel like getting into it.\"\n\n\"And her?\" Sean says, motioning at Caitlyn as if she's not even there.\n\n\"Sean, I didn't want to distract you,\" he says. \"We've been over this.\"\n\n\"So you knew about this?\" Sean says, turning to look at Lauren, who's smiling and looking at the baby, oblivious to the commotion in the room.\n\n\"I knew she was pregnant,\" Derek says. \"Not that it was yours.\" He glances at Caitlyn. \"Apparently nobody did until tonight.\"\n\nRight then, the huge pile of blankets on Lauren's lap catches Sean's eye and his skin prickles. Lauren—smiling wide, the gesture rising the corners of her eyes—looks so beautiful Sean's breath catches in his throat. She looks at him, and he stares at her, totally forgetting the conversation he was just having.\n\n\"Hi,\" he says.\n\n\"Hi,\" she says back.\n\nThis seems to be some sort of cue. Lauren's mom heads down the hall and Caitlyn and Derek and Marcus—stopping to pat Sean on the shoulder and shake his head—all follow suit. And then Sean's suddenly alone in the room with Lauren and the baby.\n\nSean approaches the bed, swallowing thickly. Lauren looks thin and small under the hospital blanket, but her cheeks are rosy, full of life. Her eyes display a fatigue, though, that Sean thinks makes her look even more beautiful for some reason.\n\nA small hand flashes in and out of the little hole in the blankets and Sean's heart skips a beat. He scratches the back of his neck, itchy with anxiety. When his fingers touch his skin, he feels the sweat and wipes it away.\n\n\"How you feeling?\" Sean asks.\n\n\"A little sore,\" she says, her voice hoarse. She looks down at the blankets and smiles again. \"She wasn't easy. Think that's a good sign.\"\n\nSean chuckles and Lauren smiles up at him.\n\n\"You don't have to stand over there, you know,\" she says, adjusting the bundle in her arms. \"We're not going to bite you.\"\n\n\"You sure about that?\" Sean asks, and she laughs, the sound finally breaking Sean out of his paralysis. He takes another few steps towards the bed, sitting in the chair next to her. He still can't see in the blankets, and can't bring himself to look.\n\n\"I'm really sorry about all of this, Sean,\" Lauren says.\n\n\"Not your fault,\" he says, then smiles nervously. \"Takes two, doesn't it?\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" she says, looking away. \"But I should have told you earlier.\"\n\n\"I wish you had,\" Sean says.\n\n\"I tried. At Friday's that night.\"\n\n\"That's what you wanted to talk about?\" Sean asks, and when she nods the entire situation replays in his head. He thinks about everything that took place that night—sitting in the restaurant with Maria and her boyfriend to his left as Lauren stormed out—and he feels like the biggest douche on the planet. He's suddenly reminded of sitting with Marcus in a Starbucks at the mall the day he bought his guitar, realizing much too late how fucked up Leon's death had left his brother.\n\n\"I'm selfish,\" Sean whispers, then laughs contemptuously. \"Holy shit, I'm a selfish, self-absorbed prick.\" He says it without anger, as if it's some new artifact he recently discovered.\n\n\"What?\" Lauren says, her eyes widening. \"No. No, don't do that. You didn't know. You couldn't have known.\"\n\nSean looks up at her, and he wants to explain it all to her. Explain what it's like to be rubbed so raw, to have your emotional threshold exceeded day after day, your psyche beaten so completely that you have no choice but to turn inward, shunning any and everything that's ever brought you comfort. He wants to explain that—up until the past month or so—he'd been existing in a black hole, a mental abyss that he only recently realized he put _himself_ in.\n\nBut watching Lauren's face—the concern in her expression, so pure and complete, considering he's technically still a complete stranger—he realizes he doesn't have to explain anything. She knows what it's like. Everybody does.\n\nWe've all been there.\n\n\" _I'm_ sorry,\" Sean says. \"I'm so, so sorry, Lauren. You just\"—Sean pauses and chuckles, shaking his head—\"You just caught me at a really bad time. I just wasn't...all there.\"\n\n\"No need to explain,\" she says. \"I get it.\"\n\nLauren adjusts the bundle onto one arm and moves her free hand towards him. He hesitates at first, then puts his on top of hers, and he doesn't know if it's the fact that they're in a hospital or that there's a baby in the room or the fact that this perfect stranger is giving him such a _familiar_ look—like they've known each other forever—but it sends a shiver through his body, and his bruised and battered cheek starts pulsing.\n\nThe moment passes soon and he leans back in the chair as Lauren adjusts the bundle back into both hands. The TV in the corner's playing a rerun of _Everybody Loves Raymond_.\n\n\"You can get a test, you know,\" Lauren says.\n\n\"What?\" Sean asks.\n\n\"A paternity test. If you want to be sure. I won't be offended.\" She looks him in his eyes. \"I'll completely understand if you're skeptical.\"\n\nSean takes in all her features, all the parts of her that are foreign to him, which is pretty much every single part of her. Her large green eyes, long brown hair, full and pouty lips. To him, right now, Lauren looks more beautiful than any woman he's ever met. Soon after thinking this, he realizes it's partly because of the bundle she's holding, and he stands.\n\n\"Can I hold her?\" he asks, before he even really knows what he's doing.\n\nFor a second, a hint of doubt creeps into Lauren's eyes, but it's gone in the next instant and she smiles and nods. Sean leans over as she lifts the bundle up to him. He takes it, awkwardly at first, trying to find the right placement in the crook of his left arm with his right arm supporting it. When he's steadied, he finally peers into the opening near his elbow. His mouth drops open, a little gasp of air coming out.\n\nWhat's— _who's_ —inside the blankets is striking beyond belief. A face barely bigger than his palm, eyes closed, mouth set in that way that makes babies look like old people sometimes. Her skin has a light caramel tone, like coffee with a lot of cream, and her head is covered in a soft layer of hair that looks so fragile it's like he could brush it off with his pinky if he wanted to. As he watches, her hand comes out from beneath the folds of the blanket and grasps at the air as she opens her mouth and lets out a yawn, never opening her eyes.\n\n\"What's her name?\" Sean whispers.\n\n\"Harmony,\" Lauren says.\n\nSean can barely see her, she's all blurry. Takes him a moment to notice it's because there's tears in his eyes.\n\n\"Harmony?\" he asks.\n\n\"Harmony,\" she repeats.\n\nSean doesn't like it. Hates it in fact. Who names their daughter Harmony?\n\n\"Harmony,\" he says again, then laughs and coughs at the same time. \"Harmony.\"\n\n\"You like it?\" she asks.\n\n\"I love her,\" he answers.\n\nSean sits back down in the chair, holding Harmony tightly and firmly, determined not to let her go. It's twenty minutes before he gives her back to Lauren, and when he does, he feels like he's letting somebody else hold something vital to his health, like his heart or liver or kidneys, like this baby has the power to kill him just by not surviving herself. Lauren and Sean talk for a little while, about nothing either one will remember because neither of them are ever really paying full attention to anything but Harmony.\n\nSoon the door opens and in walks a doctor, followed by Derek, Marcus, Caitlyn, her mom, Rick, and a little boy Sean assumes is Lauren's son. Sean tenses when Rick approaches, but he seems to have calmed down—probably having something to do with his left eye and cheek being just as swollen as Sean's right one—and he mutters something about taking Justin home. The little boy rubs his eyes tiredly and hugs Lauren, who hugs him back tightly. He pokes at Harmony and briefly gets excited as all hell when Lauren tells him it's his sister, but then Rick grabs him and pulls him out of the room and they're both gone. Sean can see from how long Lauren watches the door after they leave that this situation is messing with her—which, for some reason, makes him like her more—until Harmony cries and her attention is instantly back in the room. The doctor checks Lauren's vitals before informing them all that visiting time will be over soon and only the father can stay.\n\nThe father. Sean.\n\nDerek pats him on the back and winks at him and everybody gathers around the bed oohing and aahing at Harmony for a few more minutes. In the middle of all the excitement, Sean leans over to Lauren and whispers in her ear:\n\n\"I don't need a test.\" He leans back a little so he can see her eyes, and there's definitely something there, something that could possibly grow into a bigger something. Sean's not too sure, but it's nice to think there's a possibility. He smiles. \"Let's just make sure her life isn't as complicated as ours,\" he adds.\n\n\"Sounds like a plan,\" Lauren says, laughing.\n\nAnd Sean rubs his daughter's forehead gently, his other hand touching Lauren's arm.\n\nstep nine: survey\n\n-37-\n\n\"Sean!\" Lauren yells, sitting on the floor in the kitchen, Sean standing in the entryway with his jaw and fists clenched. Pots and pans litter the tile, Lauren's hair a frizzy mess above her head, the neck of Sean's shirt stretched, a tear at the bottom right. Harmony's crying in the background, and tears stream down Lauren's face as she points in the direction of the front door. \"I don't want to hear another fucking word. Get. _Out_.\"\n\n-38-\n\nSean storms downstairs and tosses his suitcase into the back of the car, resisting the urge to throw a rock through Lauren's car window _only_ because he can see Harmony watching him from her bedroom.\n\n\"Fucking _bitch_ ,\" Sean says, gets in the car, and drives away.\n\nstep ten: live\n\n-39-\n\nPulling into Rick's apartment complex, Lauren glances in the rearview mirror right at the moment Harmony brings her hand back, pauses for a second to grin mischievously, then proceeds to slap the _shit_ out of Justin's face with a resounding smack that fills the air of the car.\n\n\"Harmony!\" Lauren yells, slamming on the brakes and looking back right as Justin lets out a high-pitched laugh. Lauren glances at him, his mouth open to reveal the blank spots where he's lost a few teeth. Harmony looks at Lauren like she's innocent and points at Justin.\n\n\"He told me to,\" she says quietly.\n\nA glance at Justin and it's obvious that it's true. Lauren has absolutely no idea what she's supposed to do in this situation.\n\n\"No hitting,\" she says sternly. \"No matter what, under no circumstances, no hitting. You understand?\"\n\nJustin keeps grinning until he sees Lauren's actually upset, then his face drops and he nods solemnly. Harmony nods too, and has that simultaneously frightened and remorseful look in her eyes, the same look she uses whenever she wants Lauren or Sean to stop being mad at her. Lauren has no idea who she learned this from, but she can already tell her daughter's going to have some poor, unsuspecting boy eating out of the palm of her hand the moment she becomes a teenager. With Lauren's luck, probably before. Lauren shudders and faces forward, rubbing her face tiredly and putting the car back in gear. A moment later she's parked and Justin's grabbing his book bag.\n\n\"Wait,\" Lauren says as he's about to throw open the door and run out. Lauren moves her head closer to the back seat. \"Give me a kiss before you go.\"\n\nJustin rolls his eyes, jerks over to her and gives her a peck on the cheek, turning to run out again.\n\n\"Wait,\" Lauren yells again. He looks back, exasperated. \"Your sister too,\" Lauren says.\n\n\"Mo-om,\" he says, glancing at Harmony, who looks like she shares his sentiment. Lauren eyes them both and Justin sighs loudly, pecks Harmony on the cheek then blurts out a quick bye and hops out of the car. Lauren watches him run up to the door, where Rick's waiting. He waves at Lauren and she can see Lisa—the new girlfriend—behind him, waving as well. Lauren waves back and pulls off and Harmony's just starting to go into one of her babbling rants when Lauren's phone rings. Lauren picks it up and Caitlyn yells something at somebody on the other end before coming back on the line.\n\n\"Sorry,\" Caitlyn says. \"Derek's being a dick. As usual.\"\n\nIt still takes Lauren a moment every time she talks to her sister to process the fact that Caitlyn's married. With a child on the way. Lauren has no idea how that's been working out. She just knows it is.\n\n\"I'm sure the feeling's mutual,\" Lauren says.\n\n\"Fuck you,\" Caitlyn says. \"What are you doing?\"\n\n\"Dropping off Harmony at Sean's then headed to class.\"\n\n\"Ooh,\" Caitlyn says, sounding giddy all of a sudden. \"Tell Harmsy I said hi and I'll see her this weekend.\"\n\nLauren puts the phone to her chest, glancing in the rearview mirror.\n\n\"Auntie Caitlyn says hi.\"\n\n\"Hi Auntie!\" Harmony yells, then continues talking about...whatever.\n\n\"She says hi too,\" Lauren says, putting the phone back to her ear.\n\n\"I forgot you had class today,\" Caitlyn says. \"Was gonna see if you wanted to grab a drink. I have the next eighteen hours off and I don't want to spend them sitting around here.\" She pauses, then yells, \" _Alone! While my husband's out gallivanting with his friends!_ \"\n\nThere's a muffled yell from the background and Caitlyn sucks her teeth.\n\n\"I swear, sometimes...\" she says.\n\n\"You know you're pregnant, right?\" Lauren asks. \"And you also know you're not supposed to drink while you're pregnant.\"\n\n\"So?\" she says. \"There's these things called virgin drinks, in case you hadn't heard. The innovation of the night life industry, allowing pregnant woman to pretend to get drunk for decades now.\" She pauses. \"What about after class?\"\n\n\"I can't,\" Lauren says, smiling and leaving it at that.\n\n\"You can't?\" she says. \"Why the fuck not?\"\n\n\"I have a date,\" Lauren says quietly, glancing at Harmony in the rearview. She's looking out the window and singing a song Lauren believes is from Dora the Explorer.\n\n\"A date?\" Caitlyn says. \"Like...an actual date? With a human male?\"\n\n\"Yes, Caitlyn.\"\n\n\"Who?\"\n\n\"Just somebody from class,\" Lauren says.\n\n\"Your professor?\" she says, chuckling. \"Trying hard for that A? Proud of you.\"\n\n\"No,\" Lauren says, scoffing. \"He's another grad student. And all my professors are women.\"\n\n\"What's that got to do with anything?\"\n\nLauren groans and Caitlyn laughs.\n\n\"Does he know about the two brats?\" Caitlyn asks.\n\n\"Which ones?\" Lauren asks. \"My children or my exes?\"\n\n\"Good one,\" Caitlyn says. \"I take it you did the first of your rounds then.\"\n\n\"Just shipped Justin off,\" Lauren says.\n\n\"You make it sound like you're running a factory over there.\"\n\n\"Starting to feel like it.\"\n\nThere's a long pause as Lauren turns the corner into Sean's apartment complex and another muffled voice says something in the background on Caitlyn's end. She laughs.\n\n\"Stop it,\" she says. \"I'm on the phone.\" Another mumbled voice then, \"Derek, stop, I'm busy,\" and she definitely sounds like she wants anything but for Derek to stop.\n\n\"Ewww,\" Lauren says. \"Get a room.\"\n\n\"I'm already in one,\" Caitlyn says, sounding distracted. She giggles then says, \"I have to go. Make sure you call me after the date.\"\n\n\"Ok,\" Lauren says.\n\n\"I'm serious,\" Caitlyn says. \"I don't care if you're getting laid, I better hear from you tonight, or I'm calling the FBI.\"\n\nLauren laughs, even as she feels a pinprick of longing.\n\n\"Ok,\" Lauren says, then blurts out, \"I love you.\"\n\nCaitlyn takes a long time to respond.\n\n\"I love you too, Sis,\" she says quietly. \"Have fun tonight.\"\n\nLauren puts the phone down and puts the car in park, looking up at Sean standing on the balcony outside his apartment. Harmony hastily kisses her on the cheek and hops out of the car, running over to the stairwell. A moment later, she pokes her small face through the metal bars on Sean's balcony, her head next to Sean's leg as she sticks her tongue out then laughs and reaches her tiny hand through the bars, twitching her fingers around in a wave goodbye. Lauren smiles and waves back. Her smile falters a little as she focuses on Sean though, waving at him too. He nods back, and Lauren hates that it's still so awkward between them. Not nearly as much as it was for a while there though, and she only hopes it'll get less awkward over time.\n\nEither way, this is her existence right here, right now. She's not consciously aware of it most of the time, but the few times she does look at it all in the vast panorama that is her life on a canvas, it's breathtaking. Jarring. Things didn't exactly turn out the way she expected. Not to say that's a bad thing. Nowadays, the unexpected is just as cliché as the expected, so you might say her never reconciling with Rick and her and Sean not working out was all a given. She's starting to think none of that matters though, none of her previous expectations or inhibitions about moving forward. Going through the motions—knowing what's going to happen next, knowing that a million people have done it all before her and will be doing it for centuries to come—none of that actually takes away from the experience. Because no matter how many movies she watches or books she reads, nothing compares to real life.\n\nLauren joins the rush hour traffic on the way to campus, thinking about her date tonight. It's a pleasant way to pass the time as she moves at a crawl. Five feet here, five feet there, her car makes its way slowly towards her destination, and she admires the sunset the entire way.\n\n-40-\n\nThere's a knock at the door and Harmony jumps up, running to it and grabbing the doorknob before Sean hops off the couch, every nerve in his body flaring.\n\n\"Harmony,\" he yells. \"What'd I tell you about answering the door for strangers?\"\n\nHarmony flinches and turns to him, her face going through that crazy transformation from confused to frightened to sad, and he simultaneously hates and loves that she can do that in any given situation, make him feel completely like shit for raising his voice or smacking her on the butt when she's being a brat, or even just giving her a look that isn't always conveying the words _I love every single thing that you do_.\n\nSean stands, walks over and picks her up and she keeps the pout for a moment before smiling and hugging him.\n\n\"Sorry, Daddy,\" she says.\n\nIf he was mad for even three seconds, that would be a fucking record.\n\nSean checks the peephole and Derek's standing outside, holding his bass and amp. Sean opens the door and Derek completely ignores him, dropping his stuff and opening his arms wide to Harmony.\n\n\"Uncle Derek!\" she yells, squirming out of Sean's arms and jumping into his.\n\n\"Hey, beautiful,\" he says, picking her up. His bass starts to slide down the wall and Derek nods at Sean. \"Get the guitar,\" he says.\n\n\"Dick,\" he grumbles as Derek walks past him and Sean slams the door.\n\nAnd, yeah, it's absolutely _nothing_ like where Sean expected to be right now. Shit, he doesn't even know if he _had_ any expectations, now that he thinks about it. All he's ever wanted was to be happy.\n\nWho'd have thought _this_ would be how he achieved it.\n\nWhich is to say things are perfect the way they are right now. And the way it is right now is like this: Derek and Marcus come over twice a week and _Whatever_ practices for their increasing number of upcoming gigs at local bars. Besides that, Sean works at Shambles as the morning bartender now, Monday through Friday so he can have his evenings with Harmony three or four nights a week. Sean makes enough to get by, spends the rest of his free time in his studio at home. Other than that, there's not really very much different. And yet, at the same time, so, so much has changed.\n\nThe oddest thing about it all is where he ended up living again: right back in his old apartment, taking the lease back from Derek after he and Caitlyn moved into their house. Which made Sean feel, at first, like he was going full circle with all this bullshit until he realized he wasn't depressed anymore. Which kind of changes things. A lot.\n\nEverybody else in Sean's life seems to have fallen into their groove too. Marcus is about a semester away from graduating with his Computer Science degree; Derek's moving up in the D.A.'s office downtown; Caitlyn sounds like she's using her nursing job to heal people in the most hostile way she possibly can; she and Derek have a kid on the way; and Lauren's doing her grad school/teaching thing. Sean doesn't ask many more questions than that.\n\nAnd Sean? He's here, chilling as usual. In his apartment, there's some Nirvana playing in the background, _Sportscenter_ 's on the TV and he's got a six pack in the fridge with his name on it. Derek's sitting on the opposite couch, fiddling with his bass, and Harmony's sitting next to Sean wearing overalls and a Dora the Explorer t-shirt which are hidden beneath the Dwyane Wade jersey she snatched out of his closet the moment she got here, the jersey so big on her it's like she's wearing a fucking blanket. She's pressing buttons on a Fisher Price toy that moos and meows and shit every time she finds an animal, and she laughs at every sound, presses all the buttons again, then laughs some more, pointing at each one and yelling \"Daddy!\" every single time.\n\nMarcus shows up a few minutes later and she yells for him to pick her up and Marcus does, looking so much older and so sure of himself, and Sean's happy for him in a way he didn't think was possible a few years ago.\n\nThis is his life now. He didn't ask for it, but he wouldn't give it up for anything.\n\nIt's impossible to plan things past a certain point, and even before that point your plans aren't guaranteed. But if you can keep steady, drive down that road and get over those humps that are inevitably going to pop up, chances are there'll be a nice stretch of paved concrete in between and you can enjoy the scenery.\n\n...Or there might not be, who knows. The whole goddamn road could look like the surface of the moon and send you flying into a fucking tree. Doesn't really matter, because the point is you have to keep driving anyways. Just keep driving and eventually you'll reach a point where the scenery will be so beautiful, it'll take your mind off how long you've been on that road.\n\nWhich is really all you can ask for.\n\n###\n\n-acknowledgments-\n\nA lot of people contributed to the writing of this novel. I'd like to thank all my college professors, who helped mold me into what I hope is a better writer than I was when they met me: Jocelyn Bartkevicius, Pat Rushin, Lisa Roney, Susan Hubbard, Darlin' Neal, Laurie Uttich, Elizabeth Stuckey-French, Ned Stuckey-French, and Marta Magellan. Thank you to all my creative writing classmates that helped me with not just the technical aspect of writing but also with figuring out which of life's experiences look best on a blank page, and how best to arrange them. Thank you to my friends: without you I wouldn't have most of the material I use. Thank you to my parents and family as a whole: without them I wouldn't be here.\n\nAlso, thank you to myself. Couldn't have done it without you, bro.\n\nLastly, thank you to my readers.\n\nYou're all so damn cool for getting to this point, you have no idea (which, I guess, is part of what being cool is, so...keep on keeping on).\n\nReviews from readers like you play a huge role in encouraging other readers to take a chance on a new author. If you enjoyed _Quarter Life Crisis_ , please consider writing a short review on the site where you purchased it and sharing the review with your friends on your Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, or whichever social media site you spend most of your time at work on.\n\nIt would really mean a lot!\n\n-about the author-\n\nPatrick Anderson Jr. received his BA in English from Florida State University, and his MFA in Creative Writing from University of Central Florida, where Quarter Life Crisis was his thesis. He's had short fiction and non-fiction published in Silverthought Magazine, The Worcester Review, Doctor T.J. Eckleburg Review, and The Bacopa Literary Review, among other online and print magazines. Patrick has also taught writing courses at UCF and Miami Dade College.\n\nA native of Miami, Patrick currently tries to split his time between bartending, writing, and doing things he shouldn't be doing.\n\nPhotography courtesy of Ashley Inguanta\n\nAshleyInguanta.com\n\n-other works by patrick-\n\nBoiling Point\n\nWho Is Anthony Stephens: The Life and Death of a College Grad\n\nfor more info visit:\n\nPatrickAndersonJr.com\n\nGetOverCollege.com\n\nOr contact:\n\nPatrickAndersonJr@hotmail.com\n", "meta": {"pile_set_name": "BookCorpus2"}}
{"text": "\n\nJeremy Chikalto\n\nand Leviathan Island\n\nby T.S. DeBrosse\n\nPublished by Viral Cat Press\n\nSmashwords Edition\n\nCopyright © 2012 Tiffany Slotwinski\n\nSmashwords Edition, License Notes\n\nThis ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this ebook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This ebook is also available in print at most online retailers.\n\n\"And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,\n\nSlouches towards Bethlehem to be born?\"\n\n– William Butler Yeats\n\nThis book is dedicated to Mirabelle and Faline.\n\nAcknowledgements\n\nI would like to give thanks to my family, friends, and loved ones for their continued support. Thanks especially to my husband and editor, J.D. Marshall, for his creative contributions. His action scenes and beautiful descriptions elevated my prose and strengthened this sequel, and I am forever grateful.\n\nPrologue\n\nMark Johnson didn't expect death to feel like a change in temperature. He set his briefcase down on the mahogany desk in his spacious office, took one final swig of his pumpkin-spice double latte, and opened up his executive-sized window. Mark was a senior partner at Johnson, Smith & Jones, L.L.P., and though he pulled in over $500,000 annually, he had pushed away his late wife, Linda. Long days at the office and longer nights at Gilt on Madison Ave. had put too much stress on their marriage. She'd left Mark for a chemistry professor named Arnold. For God's sake, the man didn't know a cufflink from a tie clip, and wore a tie with short sleeves.\n\nThe divorce was decreed. Even his kids divorced themselves from his surname, as if the whole corporation had dissolved.\n\nTonight Mark meant to dissolve too. Both his parents had expired long ago in Floridan opulence, after all, and he had no educations of nieces or nephews to fund, no siblings to rival. His children and ex-wife wouldn't touch his assets, and he hadn't a need for them, really. What an emptiness I have accumulated, thought Mark as he climbed up on his window's ledge.\n\nMark wanted to think wild thoughts and have some profound connection to his time and place of death. He'd chosen 11pm sharp, but he had no real reason for doing so. He'd chosen his office window and the city sidewalk below for his body's final breath. Why? He didn't know. It was sad, he thought, that there was no poetry in his life.\n\nAs Mark Johnson leaned into the wind, trying to elongate the cusp of his life, he glimpsed his destination, and was disgusted. How had he missed this detail? Below, a wooden awning stretched out across several storefronts. Large, striped pedestrian crosswalk signs directed foot traffic through the narrow tunnel. His place of death was a construction site. Mark tried to back out of the deal, but had no leverage, and fell. His adrenal gland surged, and he was horribly excited. The Earth rushing towards him was magnificent, and nothing had ever felt as real as the air he now penetrated. Tenth floor, ninth floor, eighth floor, he was almost one with the ground. Fourth floor, third floor, second floor, and he merged with the plywood of the construction site, shards of wood impaling him as he liquefied on impact.\n\nMark felt a temperature change. He knew from the ski trips he used to take with his family that a frigid January sometimes felt like a sweltering July. It was all very confusing, especially the fact that Mark was still thinking. He opened his eyes.\n\nMark had entered the Haze. A buzzing bright white light was soon replaced with humming purple rays. Mark looked down at his blob of a body from an impossible angle, and shrieked when he realized that his head wasn't attached. It bobbed up and down in space. He floated aimlessly for a time, watching the shadows and lights shift in the distance, and then a strange suction pulled him along. There was a glowing thread emanating from his solar plexus, and a cat-like creature was tugging on it. His head, though severed from his body, followed the cat as though it were bonded to his flesh. Mark cried out and jiggled his arm, which was still attached to his body. The cat turned around, meowed, and pointed a paw above her.\n\nMark looked up and felt some part of his being rise and separate from the bulk of his consciousness. The part that had risen felt light and whimsical, like the first flurries of the season. He remembered holding his newborn boys, crying and laughing at once. The bottom part, though, was dark and heavy, slush trampled by too many shoes. He was in a back room, screwing an escort, stomach acid and rum sloshing up in his mouth. The cat was pulling him down, down. And then there was an explosion of noise—the hiss of a cat, the shriek of a wild boar, and then a two-toned voice, saying, \"Jeremy Chikalto! Apollyon's animus!\"\n\nMark Johnson swiveled his mushy head and saw the cat hissing and backing away, whipping its gray and white tail. The nearby shadows began to morph, and a large black shape loomed towards him, polluting the Haze above it with swirls of oil. Mark remembered all the times he had been afraid, and the memories coalesced into a feeling of the deepest dread. His glowing cord was drawn into the creature's terrible gravity, and Mark was being reeled in. Mark howled as he entered the demon's mouth, and was incinerated in its throat. Everything was charred black. This time, there was no mistaking the temperature.\nChapter 1\n\nApollyon\n\nJeremy Chikalto smiled and watched the ballroom rotate in a gentle circle, a sea of golden light glinting off of a thousand reflective surfaces on the walls. His dance partner, five-year-old cousin Lilac Vendere, beamed back at him as they twirled. Now she looked like a china doll draped in purple hues, with a moon face and elaborate hairdo. A giggle escaped her lips. The guests lining the perimeter of the dance floor clapped and cooed as the pair waltzed nimbly under the soft lights.\n\nJeremy remembered this room from his childhood―the high ceilings, antique chandeliers, his mother's elegant gown, his father's impossibly crisp military uniform. When they danced, their regal energy seemed to expand and fill the whole room, the opposite but complementary colors of their clothing echoing in a room of mirrors. His parents' dueling and dancing personalities formed the matrix of his young universe―art and science, the primal lovers, and him the lovechild.\n\nThere was a heavy thud against the door, and the spell was broken. The two guards leaning against the wall jumped up and drew their pistols. Lilac's eyebrows knitted together and her bottom lip quivered in fear. Another thud, and the sound of wood splintering. Just then, a mass of yellow burst through the locked door like a battering ram, and bowled over the unprepared guards with two meaty outstretched arms. Not again, thought Jeremy.\n\nAs Lilac scurried into the corner, a large woman in a bright yellow jumpsuit charged Jeremy, a crazed look in her eyes. Jeremy pathetically held out his palms to stop the onslaught, but was knocked on his backside and was soon being mauled by the adoring fan. The woman panted and whispered \"Jeremy\" as she smooched his neck and cheeks, her chubby fingers combing through his hair, completely messing it up. After an unreasonable delay, the guards got to their feet and more had descended the long, spiral staircases on either side of the dance floor. They yanked the woman up.\n\n\"How'd she get in!\" demanded Ronny, the Chief Security Officer. The guards began bickering amongst themselves. Someone, clearly, had screwed up, since the ballroom was supposed to have been well guarded for the evening's festivities. It was Lilac's birthday celebration.\n\nLilac walked back over to Jeremy, who was slumped on the dance floor. She looked down at him, her mouth agape.\n\n\"It's okay, Lilac. I'm fine.\" Jeremy smiled up at her, determined to level his breathing. The large, adoring fan had knocked the wind out of him.\n\nOn seeing his smile, Lilac laughed and ran in circles, her arms outstretched pretending to chase Jeremy with the intention of giving him a kiss. \"I love you! I love yoouuuu!\"\n\n\"I know, all right. Let's settle down.\" Jeremy got to his feet and caught hold of Lilac. He squeezed her in his arms. She squealed and bucked until at last he set her down.\n\nThe moans from the large woman faded as the doors to the ballroom closed shut. Then Vor Wantoro Chikalto barreled in and scolded the guards. Jeremy was next in line for a tongue lashing. It was unfair how those closest to him faulted him for attracting women, like he had some active role in the seduction of complete strangers.\n\nWantoro approached Jeremy. \"Jeremy,\" he said gruffly, squaring his massive shoulders.\n\n\"Yes?\" Jeremy hissed the \"s\" sound because he knew his father disliked it.\n\n\"How about you go to your quarters until the close.\"\n\nJeremy crinkled his brow. \"Why?\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, I just can't allow this evening to be about you.\" Wantoro frowned slightly, but Jeremy detected a twinkle in his eye.\n\n\"What does that even mean? It's not like I―\"\n\n\"Ssh! Image control, Jeremy. Image control.\"\n\nJeremy sighed. His father was right. He waved at Lilac, who was staring from behind Wantoro. \"Don't forget me. Send someone up for the final dance.\"\n\n\"Forget you,\" Wantoro shook his head in bemusement.\n\nJeremy stepped back from his father, bowed, and then jogged off to the door, leaving a gaggle of girls giggling in his wake.\n\nThe walk to Jeremy's wing of the castle was quiet, almost too quiet. A row of plants to his right, set in a stone garden that traveled the length of the hallway adjacent to the wall, rustled quietly in the breeze.\n\nBreeze? Jeremy halted and suspiciously eyed the jumjee, with its blood-red blossoms and prickly stems. No, there was no breeze in this corridor. Jeremy had imagined it. He ran his fingers through his golden brown hair. Strands of blonde usually framed his face, but these now flipped up, the natural waves in his hair pattern having been ruffled by the large woman. Demon? Jeremy spun around, and on seeing he was alone, began to vibrate. Some invisible part of him tugged him through and in a flash, he had entered the Haze. Purple shafts of light swallowed him sideways. It was unusually dark here. Jeremy swished his hand about in an effort to dissipate the dark clouds, though he knew it didn't quite work this way. \"Lyrna!\" he shouted.\n\nJeremy felt a nip on his ankle. \"Out! Too dark.\" Fur brushed against his leg as he passed through a pink cloud that swallowed him whole. Now, in a light wisp of Haze, Jeremy saw Lyrna. She licked her fur down while occasionally glancing at Jeremy. \"Yes?\" she purred.\n\n\"Did you hear anything else?\"\n\n\"Mew?\"\n\n\"Demons. You know, anything?\" Jeremy shuddered and bit his nails.\n\n\"Just that once. I tell. Demon pass through, say 'Jeremy Chikalto,' no more.\"\n\n\"That's it then? Nothing more in the past three months?\"\n\n\"No,\" said Lyrna. \"I tell. Frazzled, you. Go sleep.\"\n\nJeremy looked down at his nail beds, torn to shreds. \"You know, I looked quite decent this morning.\" He smiled and hesitated before adding, \"Lyrna, can I pet you?\"\n\nLyrna shifted her weight from paw to paw and floated over to Jeremy's lap, setting her head down on his knee. Jeremy stroked her fur as she purred.\n\nA nosy elk got so brazen as to stick its big, fat nose through the cloud in front of Jeremy's face.\n\nJeremy held his hand up to cover the snooping nostrils. \"Hey buddy, don't you have souls to sort?\" The elk retreated and Jeremy sighed. \"Okay, Lyrna. I guess I'll go back now. Please let me know if you hear of anything.\"\n\nLyrna nodded and Jeremy held fast to Lyrna's small furry body, which glided effortlessly through the Haze. Lyrna came to a stop. \"Here.\"\n\n\"Yes. I feel it.\" Jeremy patted Lyrna on the head and exited the Haze. He was getting better at gaging his entry and exit points, but still needed help. Getting lost in the Haze was a terrifying endeavor. Jeremy stumbled back onto the floor of the west wing. The plants to his right gave a slight twitch.\n\nJeremy visited Lyrna often after learning of her role in the Haze. The Haze once seemed like a place of death, but Jeremy now recognized it as also a place of life and rebirth. The souls of the departed didn't extinguish after death, they went to the Haze to be sorted, meaning the old dichotomy of Heaven and Hell wasn't just a metaphor. What Heaven and Hell might look like, feel like, remained shrouded in mystery. But what Mantel had said to him, about his being Apollyon, the angel of the bottomless pit, haunted Jeremy even worse than the demon that, he was told, had been looking for him three months ago. Apollyon. Four months ago, in front of Mantel, Jeremy had a vague familiarity with that figure, but the words passed over him. He was still struggling to comprehend that his ancestor, Vordin Chikalto, had been an angel, cursed for returning Cain to his damned body. Mantel was Cain and Jeremy was the heir to God's curse. But now his most relevant concern was: What was his role in the Apocalypse?\n\nJeremy entered his room, deep in thought. He looked himself over absently in the antique mirror, then wandered into his huge closet to kill time. He selected a black silk shirt with paisley stitchwork and gray slacks, and topped it off with a bow tie. He stepped into black leather dress shoes and waited for what seemed like an eternity in front of the mirror, planning a sequence of dance moves. He added a green vest. Finally, a servant came to retrieve him.\n\n\"Your father requests your presence for the final dance.\"\n\nJeremy nodded and followed the servant to the ballroom. The Cajjez stared at his feet while he walked, images of the pending Apocalypse flitting across his mind. He heard the ballroom door open in front of him and looked up. The last person he wanted to see was standing in the center of the dance floor, surrounded by numerous polite guests.\n\n\"Maren!\" gasped Jeremy.\n\n\"Hello,\" said Maren, awkwardly gripping and releasing her sheer silver gown like a lost kitten kneading a blanket. She was sparkling like a diamond in a display case, and her hair was cascading out of an elaborate bun.\n\n\"What a ... surprise.\" Jeremy's heart pounded hard in his chest as he approached her.\n\nA crowd of onlookers erupted into applause. \"Look! Jeremy and Maren are reunited at last!\" someone cried.\n\nCamera flashes abounded. It was the first time the two were seen together in public since returning to Watico after the alleged IIU kidnapping.\n\n\"Why haven't you returned my calls?\" whispered Maren as Jeremy drew close.\n\nJeremy bowed on one knee and took her hand and kissed it. \"Well, I―\"\n\n\"You've been dancing a lot, I take it?\" she said through gritted teeth. She withdrew her hand from his.\n\n\"Just look at them together, adorable!\" wailed a woman from the sidelines. The band struck up a latin groove.\n\nJeremy forced a smile and stood tall. \"May I?\"\n\n\"This is so unnatural right now, in case you didn't notice.\" Maren scowled at him.\n\n\"Right.\" He placed his right hand gently on Maren's back and clasped her hand with his left. They stepped into each other and began to tango, and the crowd ooed and ahed. \"You have a problem with my dancing?\" Her face was flush with anger and embarrassment. Her gray eyes bore into him, and he averted his gaze as he dipped her low, her left leg tipping on a silver heel, her right leg folding into him.\n\n\"Your shoes,\" said Maren.\n\nJeremy looked down at his boots as he stepped back. \"Um, what about them?\"\n\n\"There was a story on your shoes in the news. Your dancing shoes. You've been spotted in them seven times, dancing. The front with the waves etched in, that's how I knew.\" Maren waved her finger at the leather stitchwork as they walked in tandem, the crest of ocean falling, splash, on his toes. Maren sighed irritably and wrapped her leg over his, and they leaned together.\n\n\"Hmm,\" said Jeremy slowly. Maren was still mumbling about his shoes when he spun her explosively. The crowd loved it. When Maren faced him her eyes were slitted and tears were forming.\n\nJeremy pulled her close and tried to hide her face in the crook of his arm. \"Easy!\" he whispered. \"Everyone's watching.\"\n\nShe sobbed softly at first, and then louder, her tender hold on his back turning to a clawing grip. Then she pushed against his chest and twirled out of his arms, and attempted to slap him across the face. He managed to grab her hand mid-slap and forced her to caress his cheek.\n\n\"Oh my word!\" gasped an elderly couple at the spicy display of passion.\n\n\"How dare you!\" she spat and tried a dance kick at his face, but she lost her balance and began to fall backwards. Jeremy sidestepped and caught her ankle on his shoulder and then grabbed her hand before she hit the ground. \"Real smooth.\" He pulled her up, twirling her leg off his shoulder. \"I've never seen you so unnerved.\" He began to circle her, tapping a syncopated beat with his busy shoes.\n\nMaren frowned and attempted to walk away from the dance, but Jeremy grabbed her by the shoulders from behind. \"You know,\" he whispered, leaning in towards Maren, \"I was just about to contact you.\" He bent her backwards over his thigh. She snapped back up and faced him.\n\n\"I imagined after the initial shock of returning, we'd try to figure out what happened to us on Earth.\" Her voice was tense. \"Four months have passed. Four months since my mother died!\"\n\n\"You needed time to mourn.\" The music slowed to a ballad, and Jeremy stepped to Maren and held her tight as she struggled against him.\n\nMaren knew, as an excuse, it sounded sensible, but as a bluff, it was the most insensitive thing Jeremy could have said. \"You're a liar, a shallow, self-absorbed liar, and I was wrong to ever think otherwise!\"\n\n\"Let's be discreet, please.\" Jeremy smiled at a nosy journalist who had entered the dancefloor to capture a shot of their slow dance, and then turned back to Maren. His eyes flashed her a warning, and then they danced in silence for the remainder of the song.\n\nThe ballad crept into its final note and the last dance was done.\n\nJeremy released Maren and she turned from him and marched to the far corner of the room. He darted after her. Guards closed in behind them as journalists swarmed to capture one last picture.\n\nThey walked to a private booth. The lights were dimming. \"Okay,\" said Jeremy after taking a seat across from Maren, \"since that's out in the open, how about this: maybe I needed time to mourn! Me, me, me. Is that what you want to hear? This is all about me!\" Jeremy gripped the table and sent a ripple of electricity along its surface. A fork leapt up into the air.\n\n\"I just want the truth, no need to make a caricature of yourself!\" Maren tucked her blonde hair behind her ears. She grabbed a nearby cushion for protection and put it on her lap.\n\n\"Like I'm going to hurt you,\" sneered Jeremy. He stood up and paced back and forth next to the booth, glancing at Maren's lap. \"You never could tell when I'm being honest.\"\n\n\"Enlighten me.\" Maren clutched her armor.\n\nJeremy drew in a deep breath. \"Okay, I am mourning. I wasn't being sarcastic, sadistic, whatever you're thinking.\"\n\nMaren pursed her lips together.\n\nFor a second, Jeremy could see Gillian: her dimples in the corners of Maren's mouth, her high, angular cheek bones. Jeremy had to look away. \"I'm sorry about your mother,\" he said. \"She didn't have to die. I left her behind in the Haze.\"\n\n\"Why?\" she managed.\n\n\"I left both of your parents behind, actually. I thought everyone was going to die. No one could breathe. I couldn't carry everyone. I took you and my father.\"\n\nMaren looked up. \"But my dad, he lived....\"\n\n\"Lyrna helped me find a rip in the Haze that led to the hospital. She found Mateo and your mother, but it was too late for her.\"\n\nMaren sighed. So that was it. That's why he'd avoided her. Guilt. \"Why didn't you just tell me? I'd have understood.\"\n\n\"Right,\" he snorted. \"Because you made it real easy for me to open up tonight.\"\n\nWantoro made the announcement for cake. The cake was cut and slices were handed out. Lilac, Jeremy's cousin, was becoming petulant, and so was quietly whisked away to her quarters. Jeremy and Maren snuck back to Jeremy's room.\n\nMaren took a seat on his royal bed. He slid his vest off and unbuttoned his collar, tossing his bow tie into his bow tie drawer. He stepped out of his famous shoes and filed them in the appropriate slot in his shoe rack. Maren hoped that was the extent of his disrobing.\n\n\"I'm sorry, it's just that the press has you seeming... so you. It's like you've never changed.\"\n\n\"And you believe the press?\"\n\n\"There's always a kernel of truth. What about your girlfriend?\"\n\nJeremy rolled his eyes and lifted Maren to her feet.\n\nThere was a knock on the door.\n\nMaren instinctually said, \"Put your clothes back on!\" She immediately regretted doing so. Jeremy grinned and took his silk shirt off, revealing a muscular torso and chiseled abs. Maren gasped and waved her hands about.\n\n\"Just a second!\" called Jeremy, delighted at Maren's frantic display of prudery. He opened the door.\n\nAn older female servant, dressed in black slacks and a pinstriped dress shirt, took quick note of the partially nude Cajjez and Maren sitting on his bed and looked away. \"Please pardon my interruption, Cajjez. Your, ahem, father sent me to confirm your location.\"\n\n\"Of course, Hilga. Here I am.\" He spread his arms out. \"Let him know I'm all tied up at the moment, and would be happy to field any further questions in the morning.\"\n\nThe servant eye him suspiciously and then exited.\n\nJeremy sauntered over to his closet and then slid another shirt on. \"Watch this.\" He pushed a square green button beside his closet and a floor panel slid back. Two crushed velvet ottomans rose from the compartment, a sleek wooden coffee table between them.\n\n\"Very nice,\" said Maren.\n\nSince things were pretty awkward anyway, he decided to cut to the chase. \"Did I tell you that I'm Apollyon?\" Jeremy blurted out. His hand trembled as he pulled the ottoman aside and took a seat.\n\n\"Hmm?\" Maren took her hair out from her bun and shook it free. It draped her slender shoulders in loose waves.\n\n\"There was a force field. Mantel's voice was in my head.\" This was going to be more difficult than he'd imagined. It wasn't that Maren wouldn't believe him―after everything she'd been through with him, she'd have to believe him. But would she stick around once she knew what he was?\n\n\"Jeremy,\" she said, taking his hands in her own. \"I'm ready for the truth. Please, don't hold back.\" Her face softened and she squeezed his hand. \"I saw you on the ground. You were... twitching and grabbing your head. We were all screaming and shouting. You said something. Mantel was quiet. What happened?\"\n\nJeremy could see it in his mind's eye: the small, hunched body of Mantel gliding towards him, Mantel's dark, boding stare, the faces of the dead pressed up against his pink skin, mucous oozing. Jeremy felt sick. This was it. This was the moment he'd dreaded. \"Mantel told me that I'm Apollyon. I'm the Angel of the Bottomless Pit.\"\n\n\"What?\" Maren shook her head.\n\n\"Mantel's voice was inside my head. He said he was Cain, that my ancestor Vordin Chikalto was an angel who was cursed for returning Cain to Earth from the Haze. Vordin restored Cain to his body, but that wasn't God's will. Cain had a mark, a curse. Vordin Chikalto's disobedience meant that one of his descendants would inherit this curse. I'm the curse.\" Jeremy looked away.\n\n\"So you're an angel?\" She blinked. The words sounded ridiculous. \"You've always looked so similar to Vordin Chikalto.\" Maren pointed to an elaborate war tapestry that depicted Vordin Chikalto in battle on Earth. \"You have the same eyes.\"\n\nJeremy appreciated her polite, quiet tone, but felt he wasn't getting through. \"He told me I'm Apollyon, Maren.\" Jeremy's voice had an edge to it.\n\nMaren released his hands and drew back with wide eyes.\n\n\"I'm sorry. I know you don't understand, and well, I've done some research.\" Jeremy rose from the ottoman and went to his shelf. He grabbed a thick notebook with \"Apollyon\" written in calligraphy on the front and opened to a page. A painting of a demon, massive with red scales, curved horns, jet-black wings, and cruel teeth, leered up from the page. In its mangled, blistery hands, it held the corpse of a man.\n\nMaren put her hand over her mouth. \"Oh, Jeremy that's not you!\"\n\n\"Listen to this. It's in Revelation 9.\" Jeremy flipped through some pages and settled on one with worn edges. Before he could read, Maren began reciting the passages aloud, word for word:\n\n1. Then the fifth angel blew his trumpet, and I saw a star that had fallen to earth from the sky, and he\n\nwas given the key to the shaft of the Bottomless Pit. 2. When he opened it, smoke poured out as though from a huge furnace, and the sunlight and air turned dark from the smoke. 3. Then locusts came from the smoke and descended on the Earth, and were given power to sting like scorpions.\n\n\"Hold on. When did you memorize those verses?\" asked Jeremy, stunned by Maren's performance.\n\n\"Well, I memorized a little bit....\"\n\n\"Of Revelation?\"\n\nMaren nodded.\n\n\"Why? And when? And how?\"\n\nMaren shifted uneasily in her chair. \"I needed something to do after my mom passed, and it seemed like a good idea considering our situation. Plus I felt like it would give me some answers. As for how, plenty of monks have done so in the past. Neurologically speaking, you just have to use the brain's preference for visual and spacial information to your advantage by encoding every verse as an image.\"\n\nJeremy was a little uncomfortable with Maren's acumen. After a pause, he moved on. \"So I think the smoke that pours out is supposed to be the Haze. I'm thinking I'm the star that falls to the earth from the sky.\"\n\nMaren nodded slowly, as everything began to take shape in her mind.\n\n\"May I?\" Jeremy gestured to the Bible. \"So the star receives a key, and he opens the Haze, or the Bottomless Pit, I'm not sure, but these creatures come out of the smoke.\"\n\n\"The locusts.\"\n\n\"Right, but I'm thinking they're more like amalgamations. Locust-like, but also like scorpions and horses and other creatures.\" Jeremy returned to the text.\n\n7. The locusts looked like horses prepared for battle. They had what looked like gold crowns on their heads, and their faces looked like human faces. 8. They had hair like women's hair and teeth like the teeth of a lion. 9. They wore armor made of iron, and their wings roared like an army of chariots rushing into battle. 10. They had tails that stung like scorpions, and for five months they had the power to torment people. 11. Their king is the angel from the Bottomless Pit; his name in Hebrew is Abaddon, and in Greek, Apollyon―the Destroyer.\n\nMaren frowned. \"So... these horrible creatures come from the Haze and torture people, and their King is Apollyon, and he's the Angel from the Bottomless Pit. And that's you?\"\n\nJeremy pulled the notebook back. \"Yes, but it gets ambiguous.\" He read from another page. \"Revelation: 20.\"\n\n1. Then I saw an angel coming down from heaven with the key to the bottomless pit and a heavy chain in his hand. 2. He seized the dragon―that old serpent, who is the devil, Satan―and bound him in chains for a thousand years. 3. The angel threw him into the Bottomless Pit, which he then shut and locked so Satan could not deceive the nations anymore until the thousand years were finished.\n\n\"So you're going to throw Satan into the Bottomless Pit?\" Maren stammered.\n\n\"It depends on whether the star that falls from Heaven is the same being as the angel who seizes Satan. It may be that the first angel is a fallen angel―Apollyon―and the second angel is his adversary. Some scholars think that Apollyon is a messenger of God.\" Jeremy swallowed. \"Others believe he is a demon. And then some believe he is the Anti-Christ, the one being thrown into the Bottomless Pit.\"\nChapter 2\n\nDr. Adler\n\nJeremy sat on his ottoman, still as stone, while Maren digested the news.\n\n\"But you don't know?\" was all she could say. Her lips went pale. She hoped she didn't sound too frightened, but she could feel the hairs on her arms rise. \"I mean, shouldn't you? Even if you're Apollyon, don't you decide who you are?\"\n\n\"I don't know. I didn't decide to make lightening. How am I supposed to know how to use it? What's my aim?\"\n\n\"Stop saying 'I don't know.' You decide, Jeremy!\" Jeremy. The Anti-Christ. It was all too much for Maren to take in, and she felt herself grow angry. Why should she be angry at him? \"I'm sorry, Jeremy. This is all too much to take in right now. I have to go to bed.\" Maren abruptly turned from him and went to her guest quarters. She sensed Jeremy wanted her counsel but was convinced he already knew far more about himself than she ever would.\n\nAs Maren lay down in bed, dressed warmly in her fleece pajamas, she decided to assess Jeremy, as honestly as she could, without letting her emotions cloud her judgment. She owed him this much after storming out of his room when he needed her most.\n\nJeremy Chikalto, she mused. He likes games; he's playful. Probably a headache to be in a relationship with. Maren pressed her fingers against her temples. Focus. Was Satan playful? Maren closed her eyes and saw an image of Satan as a goat. Yes, Satan was often depicted as Pan, the part-man, part-goat Greek God of the Wild. Pan was flirtatious with the nymphs. He played music and danced.\n\nMaren stopped herself and took a deep breath. The very idea of Jeremy being Satan seemed absurd. Jeremy likes to surround himself with women, and loves to sing and dance. Plus, Jeremy has a low capacity for compassion. He's narcissistic. Then she faced the elephant in her mind: there was the darkness in Jeremy, the sadism.\n\nMaren stopped herself and took a deep breath. He's not perfect. At least he doesn't see himself that way. He must want something he can't get. What does Jeremy want? Maren rolled over and felt the cool pillow against her face. She'd forgotten to wash off her eye makeup; there'd be black on the pillow case in the morning. She closed her eyes and tried to clear her mind. Jeremy couldn't possibly be Satan.\n\nMaren awoke early the next morning. She decided, after an uneasy rest, that Jeremy needed her to be strong and decisive. He needed her to help him to discover himself. Maren waited for Jeremy or a maid to retrieve her, but when no one came, she decided to check Jeremy's room. \"Hello?\" she called at the door.\n\nThere was rustling. The door cracked open. Jeremy, wearing a mint green and black robe, appeared, rubbing his eyes.\n\nMaren smiled weakly. \"I thought we might continue our conversation from last night before we speak with your father. He'll probably want to regulate our public behavior until we know what to do with you.\"\n\nJeremy spun around and crossed his arms. \"Have I inadvertently enlisted the help of another image consultant?\"\n\nMaren pulled out a small purple notebook and pen. \"So you have questions about your identity. You want to know what it means to be Apollyon. To address this, I thought it might be helpful to figure out what it is you want in life.\" She felt her brow tense up. Behind her eyes, the tears were forming. She tried to blink them back. \"What do you want?\" she repeated, louder.\n\n\"What? What the hell kind of question is that?\" Jeremy shook his head in disgust.\n\n\"I thought I might help you to understand yourself.\" Maren's voice gave a slight quiver as she clutched her pen and brought it up to her notebook. \"What do you want in life?\"\n\nJeremy's eyes flashed and before he could stop himself, he grabbed her wrist and squeezed it, thrusting it violently towards the ceiling. Maren dropped the pen and let out a cry. Jeremy shoved her out the door and she fell back on the floor in the hallway.\n\n\"This is beyond your idiotic ideas! I don't need your clinical bullshit!\" yelled Jeremy, slamming the door.\n\nJeremy saw his seven-year-old self in his mind's eye. There he was, frightened and sitting across from his shrink, Dr. Adler. They were in a small, claustrophobic room with white walls. Piles of sharpened pencils sat in neat stacks on the desk and the room had the distinct smell of a robust black tea.\n\n\"Let's talk again about how the air twitches.\" Dr. Adler brought his pen up to his black, spiral notebook and paused.\n\n\"Okay,\" said Jeremy. \"It moves and I'm afraid of what's behind it.\"\n\n\"Interesting.\" He jotted something down. \"And what do you think is behind it?\"\n\nJeremy scratched at the back of his neck and then quickly folded his hands on Dr. Adler's desk. \"Creatures? Hidden things. Emotions are behind the air, maybe? It's hard to explain.\"\n\n\"Hidden things, emotions, very interesting. Do you sometimes feel like you need to hide your emotions 'behind the air' so your parents can't see them?\"\n\nJeremy twisted his face. \"I don't see what that has to do with―\"\n\n\"It's all right,\" said Dr. Adler, scribbling down more notes. A woman gently tapped at the door and then let herself in.\n\n\"Excuse me doctor, Jeremy's wanted. Will the dosage be the same?\"\n\nDr. Adler sighed, set his spiral notebook and pen down, and said \"I'll just be a minute, Jeremy. Why don't you think some more about those emotions?\" He and the woman stepped out of the room and closed the door almost all the way. Jeremy heard the doctor say through the crack \"Increase his Picova to twenty milligrams a day. I want to try him on Flebula too, to address his anxiety. I'll have his medications ready for him when he's done class.\"\n\n\"Yes, doctor.\"\n\n\"I don't need more medication,\" sneered Jeremy. The doctor opened the door and smiled, but the corners of his eyes were cold. He walked slowly into the room, savoring his own explanations.\n\n\"Jeremy, a person's mind is like a small boat, rowing through life. Now some people don't have too many passengers on that boat, but folks like you and I do. We have lots of thoughts and emotions, all having interesting conversations in the boat. People like us, we need to make sure that the weight is evenly distributed, otherwise the boat will capsize. Now this medicine is like a wise old captain, who has sailed many voyages. He knows just where the passengers need to stand to ride out the waves and winds of life. All we have to do is just move some of those passengers around.\"\n\nHe paused. \"And sometimes, some of our passengers don't belong on our boat at all. There are stowaways and thieves.\" His expression darkened, and he sat down in his plush chair and spun his back to Jeremy, examining the wall. \"Sometimes, some of our passengers need to be thrown overboard.\" Dr. Adler stood up from his desk and gestured towards the door. \"Cajjez.\" He bowed.\nChapter 3\n\nTally\n\nSeveral galaxies away, on a blue planet orbiting a medium-sized star, underneath the surface, in a realm known to very few, two dumpy creatures resembling capibaras, the largest hamsters on the planet, walked down a dank tunnel in Mantel's Maze.\n\n\"I've been working for Mantel for two centuries, and he still has me doing this grunt work. When is he going to recognize my potential?\" The creatures waddled on their hind legs and carried crude notebooks.\n\n\"What potential?\" asked the other.\n\n\"Oh, I've got plenty of skills that nobody knows about.\"\n\n\"Such as?\"\n\n\"Such as in the martial arts. You see, true power is soft, not hard. True fighting ability flows from a peaceful mind and a supple body. It's all yin and yang. I should be training for the front lines in the upcoming battle, not counting Goddamned demons! I have massive leadership potential as well.\"\n\nThe two waddled in silence for a minute.\n\n\"Here's the rooms,\" whispered one. They had come to a t-shaped formation in the tunnel with two caverns on either end. There were two tunnels, one in each room, that spit out fresh soul traces collected from beacons on the surface. The business end of the tunnels had recently been drawing demons into Mantel's Maze like blood draws sharks. The minions each poked their head in the rooms, scratched a note in their books, and crept away.\n\n\"How many did you get?\" said one when they were out of demon earshot.\n\n\"Three. How many did you get?\"\n\n\"Twenty-seven,\" said the ambitious capibara.\n\n\"What? That's preposterous. I know you hate this job and want to be promoted, but you're liable to get us both consumed. I've been counting demons for three-hundred years, and there has never been over ten demons in one chamber. Mantel's been on edge as it is with all the recent demon sitings, and you want to submit a fraudulent report? Not on my watch.\"\n\n\"Fine, count them for yourself and see.\"\n\nThey turned around and waddled back to the room. As they approached, they could hear soft chanting in an alien tongue emanating from one of the rooms. The room had gone dark, but something in the center of the room was glowing. They poked their heads in and saw thirty demons gathered around a stone altar in the center of the room, chanting in black hoods. Startled, the hamsters began to retreat, but bumped into a bony mass that had appeared behind them.\n\nThe demon grabbed the ambitious capibara by the scruff of his neck and carried him squealing to the altar. Others bound him with crude ropes as he struggled. A tall demon came forward and pulled back his hood, revealing the skeletal head of a cow. He drew a large dagger from inside his cloak. \"Jeremy Chikalto,\" he whispered, and the chanting stopped. He plunged the dagger into the animal's heart. They ignored Mantel's other minion, who was scurrying back to his master.\nChapter 4\n\nSmooth Sailing\n\nVor Wantoro Chikalto sat in a chair in the hospital wing of the Chikalto castle. The room was decorated in peaceful watercolor landscapes, but as usual, no amount of cheerful artwork could dispel the pain in the room. Wantoro kissed Raaychila on the cheek. Although she was still in a coma, her heart rate and breathing had steadily increased, and then, just last month, the doctors said she was semi-conscious. Her long red hair was braided and looked stunning against the purple satin sheets Jeremy had requested for her repose.\n\nWantoro turned the dimmed lights to maximum brightness. He wanted to make sure she knew it was morning. \"I love you, you're doing so well,\" said Wantoro gently. \"We're heading out to Gondor Reef this afternoon. Mateo and Maren are here; they've just arrived yesterday. Your niece Lilac had an amazing birthday party last night. She loved dancing with Jeremy. He said he'd give her some lessons while she's here.\" Wantoro looked down at his watch. \"Well I'd best start getting ready for our trip. Don't want to keep everyone waiting. I'll let you know how Lilac's lessons go.\"\n\nThree hours later, Wantoro, Mateo, Maren, Jeremy, and a small crew were sailing on a yacht in the Flakjin Ocean. The craft was a hundred feet from stern to bow, and her name was Willow. She had been in the Chikalto family for generations, lovingly refurbished over the years and updated with state-of-the-art equipment. Although to the masses a trip on the Willow simply reflected the leisure and opulence of the ruling class, to the Chikaltos the voyage usually meant there was business to be discussed, away from prying eyes and ears. Of course, there was no reason to turn up a perfectly good opportunity to catch some fish to boot.\n\nIt was a sunny, calm afternoon out on the water, the occasional cloud passing overhead. The translucent blue Flakjin Ocean was teeming with life, and the Willow was sailing towards the reef at a lively clip. She was a hybrid vessel equipped with both romantic sails and practical engines.\n\nWantoro paced back and forth in his quarters, shifting his weight rhythmically to compensate for the ocean swells. In the same way, he had to be in sync with events beyond his control: he had to expect that Raaychila would never wake up, to prepare himself for that likely devastation; on the other hand, if she was conscious, as they say, he had to convince her she would wake up, so she wouldn't lose hope. Compensating for his willful son would be even more difficult. Wantoro left his plush quarters, gently closing the door behind him, and walked into the parlor, expecting to find Jeremy and Maren already at attention. The room was empty.\n\nHe sat down at the ancient wood table and gazed absently at the nautical scenes carved in panels on the wall, some depicting battles against sea monsters. This political situation was a sea monster, threatening to swallow the peace and stability that the Chikalto family had brought to Watico. Wantoro flipped through a few brown files and then spread them on the table in front of where he anticipated Jeremy would sit.\n\nFinally, Jeremy and Maren entered, each taking a seat at opposite ends of the table.\n\n\"Well all right then,\" began Wantoro. \"Mateo will join us later. As you might have guessed, he indulged in too much cake and wine at the birthday party last night and his sea legs are a bit weak.\" Wantoro smiled at Maren. \"Our first order of business isn't a pretty one, I'm afraid to say.\" Wantoro slid the files down the table to Jeremy. \"We'll have to sort this mess out. I think it's best we close―my dear Maren!\" Wantoro had noticed her wrist, badly bruised and limp. \"How did that happen?\" He gestured to her wrist but she only looked away.\n\n\"I did it,\" said Jeremy bluntly.\n\n\"You did this?\" Wantoro's jaw squared and his brows lowered at his son.\n\n\"Yes, I grabbed her wrists and pushed her. Sorry!\" yelled Jeremy from across the table. \"Didn't mean to. It was a mistake. Considering all we've been through, I think a little slip-up once in a while is excusable.\" He crossed his arms defiantly.\n\nWantoro looked from his son back to Maren, who took in a sharp breath. \"I apologize on behalf of my son, Maren. This is unacceptable. Obviously Jeremy needs to suffer the appropriate consequences for his lack of judgment and self-control, only privately, you understand. We can't let this get out. But I will not condone a batterer.\" Beads of sweat collected on his forehead, and the boat rose sharply with a big wave.\n\n\"A batterer? I didn't batter her!\" spat Jeremy.\n\n\"Jeremy, please.\" Wantoro faced Maren and spoke quickly. \"You know this isn't the first time there's been ... an incident. He's had mental health issues for as long as I can remember, only we've been trying to handle things privately, and well, I guess we should let you in on this since, after all we've gone through, you're like family―\"\n\nJeremy rose from his seat. \"I've never battered anyone. And besides, if I did, I was a kid then. I'm an adult now―\"\n\n\"So much the worse,\" said Wantoro gravely.\n\nJeremy threw his arms up and then reclined moodily in his chair.\n\nMaren had a hard time finding her voice. \"It's okay, I don't want this to ruin our trip.\"\n\nWantoro looked from Jeremy and then to Maren, a little confused. \"Well if it's okay at this point, I'd like us to move on.\" He cleared his throat. \"Jeremy, I'm calling off the demon report.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Demon report?\" asked Maren, turning to Jeremy.\n\n\"Jeremy wants to issue a report on recent encounters with supposed demons. He's been gathering informal accounts and articles in paranormal publications, conducting interviews, and acquiring medical and psychiatric records. And, I might add, not following the legally required procedures in doing so.\"\n\n\"Why would you do that?\" asked Maren, bewildered.\n\n\"Demons are after me!\" Jeremy retorted. \"You can't call this off! Lyrna told me. They were looking for me specifically!\"\n\n\"Your claim is far-fetched, Jeremy, but these are strange times. Even assuming you're right,\" said Wantoro slowly, keeping a steady eye on Jeremy, \"issuing a government report on the supernatural is hardly the way to address the problem. You're liable to cause mass hysteria. And plant suggestions in peoples' minds, which will contaminate the \"data\" you're trying to gather with a bunch of superstitious nonsense. Or, yet again, you could make us a laughing stock.\"\n\n\"This is the fastest way to go about it! People out there are having real experiences with something we don't understand, and they feel too ashamed to come forward because tyrants like you will just dismiss them as lunatics,\" retaliated Jeremy. \"This is a public safety crisis, and people deserve to know what's going on!\"\n\nWantoro sighed and leaned back in his chair. \"Maren, you see I cannot get through to him. Please tell him what people will think.\"\n\nMaren jumped. She wasn't quite prepared to formally insult her recent assailant. \"Well,\" she began, tracing the wood pattern on the table with her good hand. \"The report will surface, and you'll be branded as crazy. Everyone's sort of... expecting something along those lines to come out, because when you were a child...\" She struggled to find the words.\n\n\"Because when you were a child, Jeremy, you made public on ten occasions that something supernatural targeted you and the press had a field day. The scratching on your window. The poison in your milk. The scaling up the castle wall. The―\"\n\n\"And I was right, wasn't I? To suspect something.\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"And you know what,\" Jeremy rose from his seat and jabbed his finger at his father, the boat dipping low. \"I'm still angry with you. You never listened! I never needed psychiatric treatment, not now and not then! I'm the only one in this Goddamned galaxy who has the knowledge and the power to save it from the coming disaster, whatever it may be, and everyone would do well to follow my instructions to the letter! A prophet is not without honor, except in his own country, and among his kindred, and in his own house.\" Jeremy threw his demon report on the table. \"You know what I need? I need a drink.\" He stormed out of the room.\n\nWantoro looked at Maren. \"This meeting wasn't quite as productive as I'd planned. I'll be meeting separately with your father in a bit to go over field reports filed by Ms. Fritz and her team of researchers. We're hoping to find clues as to what, exactly, they've discovered on Earth, and who this Mantel creature is.\" He massaged his chin. \"Jeremy told me that he believes himself to be an angel and that Vordin Chikalto, my ancestor, was an angel, but we don't know what that means, and we don't know if it's true. I think he might open up to you more than he does me.\" Wantoro exhaled as he took in the sight of Maren's mangled wrist. \"It may be hard to believe, but he really does think highly of you.\"\nChapter 5\n\nNight Vision\n\nThe rest of the day aboard the ship passed by in a blur. Jeremy avoided Maren and Maren avoided Jeremy. Night fell and dark clouds swept through the sky, bringing rain, thunder, and lightening. The ship tossed about on the open seas, while Jeremy tossed and turned in his bed, his mind swirling with memories of past adventures and present worries, his struggle with Maren flashing in bolts across the storm. He eventually succumbed to a vivid dream. Jeremy was flying, weaving in and out of the Haze and Earth's atmosphere―a rapid cycle of falling, floating, falling, floating that gave him control over his descent to Earth's surface. He landed softly on concrete. It was so effortless, Jeremy had to smile. When had he become so skilled at being an angel?\n\nThere was a deep groaning sound, and behind him, the atmosphere tore open, a vortex at its center. Every dark feeling hibernating in his mind was awakened, beating against his skull for an escape. Jeremy shouted something indecipherable, some foreign tongue, and his rage exploded. Time sped up. Now Jeremy's muscles tensed and swelled until his clothes ripped. The veins on his arms throbbed painfully. Jeremy screamed a horrible scream, low, hoarse; not that of a victim, but of a predator. In front of him, there was a key. He reached for it; he had to have it, or else.... Everything warped around him, and then there was blood―all over him was dark, clotted blood. He heard a buzzing in the distance.\n\nJeremy sat up in his bed. His hands were shaking and he could feel the hot, sticky sensation creeping down his palms and on the backs of his hands. He jumped from his bed, turning his palms over and shaking his hands furiously. Nothing. He lifted his shirt up and examined his chest; nothing out of the ordinary. What was this dark transformation lurking in his psyche?\n\nJeremy knew he had to consult Lyrna, but was too afraid of what he might find out. He tore his clothes off and paced around his room, slapping at his body occasionally whenever the fresh memory of blood played on his skin. Jeremy ran his fingers through his hair. He needed a distraction. Clothes!\n\nThough his voyage aboard the Willow was only to be a couple of days, Jeremy had had his servants pack an extensive wardrobe. The Cajjez flung open his closet doors and pushed himself through until he was in the thick of his clothes. He closed his eyes and brushed his hand across his wardrobe, deciding what to wear based on touch alone. His fingertips rested on something soft and fragile: a thinly woven cashmere sweater. He put on a silk collared shirt, and pulled the sweater over top. It comforted him immediately.\n\nAfter slipping into a handsome pair of trousers, Jeremy turned himself about in front of his full length mirror. He knocked around in his jewelry box until four fingers were adorned with silver. At last Jeremy slumped in his chair. Maren. Maren could make him feel better. Why had he avoided her? He knew he'd have to apologize.\n\nSome part of him was afraid she'd hurl insults at him, each an arrow tip dipped in poison. He wanted to preserve her in his memory as the blushing, clumsy girl he'd danced with as a child. Their friendship was as fragile as his cashmere sweater.\n\nThe next morning Jeremy rose early. He hadn't been able to sleep much after his dream anyway and was supposed to meet with his father once more before breakfast. He rapped on Maren's bedroom door clutching a bouquet of flowers he'd pilfered from the yacht's dining room table.\n\n\"Maren? It's me, Jeremy.\" Jeremy inwardly cringed at the desperation in his voice and had half a mind to bolt. His heart raced. \"Maren, can I come in?\"\n\nThe bolt lock slid on its track and Maren opened the door. She looked first at his face and then at his hand, pathetically limp and holding petunias.\n\n\"Jeremy, what are you doing?\" She took a step back and looked behind her. Maren was in the process of laying out her outfit for the day and her bed was covered in all sorts of embarrassing personal effects.\n\n\"I just wanted to say hello,\" he managed coolly.\n\n\"Hello.\"\n\n\"I need your help,\" he began, stepping past her into her room.\n\n\"Okay?\" Maren grabbed the flowers from his hand and stalked away from him. \"These need water,\" she called back. \"And please don't look at my chair.\"\n\n\"Maren, I am so sorry for hurting you the other day. I've always taken your opinions very seriously. Be forthright with me: Do you think I'm a good person? Do you think I'm evil?\"\n\nMaren slid the flowers into a crystal vase. \"You are not the Anti-Christ, Jeremy,\" she said, a hint of frustration rising in her voice. \"Apollyon is not the Anti-Christ.\"\n\n\"I might be.\"\n\n\"Why do you say that?\" Maren spun around. \"You're a nice guy; you have your... special struggles, but you have good intentions.\"\n\nJeremy pushed past her to her bed and sat down on top of her bra and underwear. \"I had a dream. It felt so real. I killed someone. I had blood all over my hands. I was a terrible, vicious predator.\"\n\nMaren, flustered, crossed the room and snatched up her clothes. \"And it was a dream. The only thing it means is that you're worried about being evil, but we already know that.\"\n\nJeremy turned his face from her, remembering the death grin that was spread across his Earth brother Jason's face. He'd killed, and not just monsters in Mantel's Maze, but a boy. And then there was the exorcism that he hadn't told her about. The pastor claimed he had a demon inside him. What if the pastor was right? What was he, Apollyon? Was a fallen angel a demon? \"I just have to figure some things out.\"\n\n\"Okay,\" said Maren quietly, tucking her clothes back into her drawers. \"Well I'm here to help.\"\n\n\"I need you to be honest with me. Tell me when I'm being bad.\"\n\nMaren felt slightly aroused by the subtext―Jeremy always exuded sensuality. \"You want me to tell you when you're being a jerk? I do that already, all the time, in fact.\"\n\nJeremy inhaled sharply. \"I'm serious. Yes, only―more than a jerk: Tell me when I'm evil or scheming or mischievous.\"\n\nMaren laughed out loud. \"Well, for starters you can get off my bed. It's not even made. Barging into a guest's room and sitting on her bed when she's in the process of getting dressed is no way to make someone feel comfortable. You'll need to work on respecting others' personal space.\" Maren playfully lifted her hands in the air, indicating for him to rise.\n\nJeremy, slightly embarrassed, shuffled to the door. \"Don't irritate me,\" he muttered. \"I recall a certain somebody lying in my bed two nights ago.\" Jeremy exited.\nChapter 6\n\nSea Omen\n\nThe ocean was once again placid, and gulls circled the ship hoping to snatch a juicy tidbit. After breakfast, Maren went out on the deck where her father, Wantoro, and Jeremy were leaning over the rail, fishing rods in hand, whispering. \"Hello,\" she said, making her way to the edge of the yacht. \"Catch anything?\" she added, hoping that she didn't come across as eavesdropping. The sky was clear and the sun was hot, tempered by a periodic breeze. Over the rail she could see shapes swirling in the water. No land was visible on the horizon; they were an island in a wild sea.\n\n\"Maren, take Jeremy's rod,\" said Wantoro.\n\n\"Please, do,\" said Jeremy, smiling. He handed it to her and winked.\n\n\"Okay.\" Maren lifted the rod from Jeremy's hands and looked out at the open water. The rod was unnecessarily ornate, resembling a decorative sword more than a fishing tool. Jeremy watched as Maren gripped it with her slender fingers. There was a nibble on her line, and then a fish made off with her bait.\n\n\"He's been lecturing us about the cruelty of fishing for sport,\" muttered Wantoro.\n\nMateo was sleeping in a nearby deck chair shirtless with a blob of sunblock on his nose. In one hand was a glass of champagne, and in the other was a pastry. Debates always tired him out.\n\n\"Hey, Maren. Can I talk to you in private?\" Jeremy motioned for her to follow him and walked across the deck to the bow. Maren reeled in her line, put the rod in a holder, gave a polite smile to Wantoro, and excused herself.\n\nOn the prow of the Willow was a magnificent figurehead of an angel with a sword of fire, an image meant to associate the Chikaltos with justice. Jeremy and Maren ducked under some ropes and sat on the edge of the bow with the figurehead between them, dangling their legs over the side.\n\n\"I can't conceal my being an angel forever, but I can play their little game.\" Jeremy leaned in towards Maren. \"The Apocalypse is imminent. They're worried about approval ratings and the press; I'm worried about demons. I mean, have some perspective, right?\"\n\nThe wind-tossed sea gave the yacht a pronounced jerk and Maren fell forward towards the water. Jeremy caught her by the waist, and pulled her into his lap. \"How's that for perspective?\"\n\nMaren blushed and stood up, bumping her head on a taut rope. \"That's the second outfit I've seen you in today,\" she said, recovering her balance and composure.\n\n\"Yes, well, I dress to suit my mood. I'm a compassionate animal rights activist at the moment. Notice the crisp white polo, like a dove, peaceful.\" Jeremy smiled. \"I've visited Earth earlier today.\"\n\n\"Earth! Do you realize how dangerous that is? What if something happened to you! Nobody would know where you were.\" Maren shook her head.\n\n\"Relax. I'm getting much better at traveling through the Haze. And Lyrna helps me—\"\n\nAt that moment, Wantoro came bustling over, hand-in-hand with Jeremy's five-year-old cousin, Lilac. Jeremy made a pretend zipper over his lips.\n\nLilac gave Jeremy a big hug. Her ridiculously large, pink bow bobbled up and down atop her head as she nuzzled into his side affectionately. \"When I looked up at the sky last night, I saw a crescent moon!\" She beamed up at Jeremy. \"I thought it might be waning at first, but then I thought, no it's waxing! It's a waxing crescent.\"\n\n\"What were you doing outside last night, you little stowaway?\" Jeremy wagged an accusatory finger at her.\n\n\"I thought you were out there,\" she said matter-of-factly. \"I heard your name. It came from far away, like in the sky, but it was really close. Like this: Jeremy Chikalto.\" Lilac had leaned forward and made her voice low and hoarse. Jeremy's face drained of color and a chill went up his spine.\n\n\"Please don't joke like that,\" said Jeremy.\n\n\"I'm not!\"\n\n\"What's that?\" Maren pointed to an object on the surface of the water in the distance, drifting towards them. It was about six feet long, and lizard-like, except for the huge fins protruding from its back. As it got closer, they realized it was the dead body of some kind of animal.\n\n\"Is that a crocodile?\" asked Jeremy.\n\n\"There are no crocodiles on Watico,\" said Maren. \"Only on Earth.\"\n\n\"Maybe a deep sea creature,\" offered Wantoro, squinting to see the details of the horned head.\n\n\"New deep-sea species are discovered all the time,\" said Maren dreamily. \"They die when they accidentally swim up where there's less pressure, and their bodies float to the surface.\"\n\n\"Death's after me,\" said Jeremy under his breath. \"I think I need to go lay down.\" Jeremy excused himself from the deck.\nChapter 7\n\nCross Over\n\nThey all gave Jeremy some space, knowing his moods could do nothing other than work themselves out. They easily could have captured the strange body for closer examination, but in truth nobody wanted to see it up close. There was something unclean about it. When Maren went to look for Jeremy that night, he was gone.\n\nMaren laid in bed, limber after her nighttime yoga. She dimmed the lights on her bedside table, set a glass of water on a coaster, and nestled under the covers.\n\n\"Hi.\" Jeremy appeared beside her and she bolted up in her bed, sending the blankets skyward. \"Are you insane?\"\n\n\"Just wanted to show off my pinpoint accuracy. Admittedly, I came through the Haze just outside your door―\"\n\n\"Which would have been better―\"\n\n\"―but look at this.\" Jeremy flickered out of sight and immediately returned with a large box under his arms.\n\nMaren blinked.\n\n\"Isn't it beautiful? See how the surface is matte? I've taken to collecting boxes. Open it.\" He smiled.\n\nMaren held her breath and lifted the lid of the box. There was a stifled meow from inside, followed by some hissing. Suddenly, the large face of a reindeer poked upwards, sending Maren off the bed and onto the floor.\n\n\"Oops! That wasn't supposed to happen!\" Jeremy laughed. \"That stupid oaf! I call him Humphrey.\"\n\nLyrna pushed past the reindeer and jumped out of the box, landing in Maren's lap. \"Maren,\" she purred.\n\n\"Lyrna!\" cried Maren. \"How did you...?\" She pressed her face against Lyrna's soft gray and white fur. \"Is she... undead?\"\n\n\"No, she just ferries the souls of the dead, like a furry little Hermes. I managed to convince Lyrna to cross over the other night. She says it feels unnatural, but look at her! Good as new, wouldn't you say?\"\n\n\"Incredible!\" Maren stared in wonderment. \"I'm glad I have you here, actually. Both of you. I've been wondering―\"\n\n\"You want to go to Earth with me?\" Jeremy grinned and twirled around, landing gracefully on his knee with his hand extended to her.\n\n\"I was wondering if you'd deliver a note to Bruce and Janet, actually.\" Maren winced while saying the names.\n\nJeremy hesitated and then said, \"Sure,\" but quickly added, \"they'd love to see you though.\"\n\nMaren sighed. \"I know, and I'd love to see them, too. But you know how dangerous it is for me to travel there. The first time I went through the Haze, I ended up in the back of an ambulance; the second time, the hospital. And then, my mother...\"\n\n\"I've given it a lot of thought,\" he said softly. \"I think I might have figured out a way to get you there safely. You should try to deliver the note in person.\"\n\n\"How can I get there safely?\" Maren squinted at him.\n\n\"Well, option one is to use an oxygen tank. Option two, we pull out in small increments of travel. Every minute or so, I'd pull you out to a safe point―a place that can provide you with oxygen. Traveling from here to Earth doesn't take that long once you learn how to cross dimensions.\" He smiled but the center of his eyebrows raised and knitted together.\n\nMaren stared back at him. \"You're lying.\"\n\nJeremy rapped his fingers on the top of her dresser. \"I'm not lying, of course, but maybe I'm a bit less certain than I'd like you to think. But come on, please? Isn't it at least worth a try? You see how quickly I can go back and forth.\"\n\nMaren frowned. \"I'll think about it.\"\nChapter 8\n\nEarthbound\n\nThe voyage back to land was uneventful. Maren decided to extend her stay with the Chikaltos, where she could fill the feminine void that was sadly there. Mateo stayed too, mostly for the company and secondarily to prevent the chef from getting rusty.\n\nOver the next two weeks, Jeremy left gifts from Earth at Maren's door―cranberry-orange bread, a portable blue-ray disk player with batteries, movies, an African diamond, Alaskan blueberry jam―all the while hoping to woo Maren into traveling with him. At last, Maren relented. They spent the next few days hammering out a plan to escape their families. Wantoro and Mateo couldn't know that they were going back to Earth or they would protest, and as Jeremy and Maren only intended to go for a day or two, they needed a believable alibi. The problem was, everyone knew Jeremy and Maren's whereabouts at all times. Also, Jeremy's schedule was so booked up with conferences, celebrations, performances, and charity events that he hardly knew which day might be open. Maren suggested they simply go with a partial truth.\n\n\"I'll leave my father a note telling him that we decided to go on a mini-vacation for two days. We just wanted some privacy―\"\n\n\"I like where this is going.\" Jeremy smirked.\n\n\"―and then I'll write that he should expect a call from us the next day. If it's so easy for you to travel back and forth, just return here and give him a call. Tell him we'll be back the following day and apologize for all the secrecy. Keep your tone light.\"\n\nMaren wrote the letter and packed a small bag. Jeremy brought Maren down to a private garden courtyard on the south side of the castle. The air smelled sweet and the stone masonry looked stunning behind the green vines and budding Cinthion blossoms. Jeremy rifled through his backpack, and pulled out an oxygen mask and tank. Maren took a deep breath.\n\n\"We'll just give this a try. If it works, it's the easiest solution. Otherwise, we move on to Plan B.\"\n\n\"And you'll just pull me in and bring me right back out, correct?\"\n\nJeremy smiled. \"Yes, and Lyrna's right here.\" He stuck his hand behind the air and pulled out a fluffy gray and white tail which whipped about irritably.\n\nMaren sighed. \"All right. Let's just do this before I change my mind.\"\n\nJeremy attached the mask to her face and helped her slip on the backpack which contained the tank. He turned it on and Maren nodded. \"Here goes.\" Jeremy held her hand, slowed his breath, and allowed the vibrations to build to a roar. They entered the Haze.\n\nMaren immediately slumped forward, her body limp and unconscious. Jeremy pressed his ear to the oxygen mask. It was doing its job. He felt Maren's neck; still, her pulse was slowing down. Then he pressed his head against her chest. Her heart beat gave a slight flutter. \"Um,\" Jeremy looked at Lyrna. \"Her body's not responding properly.\"\n\nLyrna mewed irritably. \"No check. Me do.\" Lyrna floated over to Maren and set her paws on Maren's arm. \"Dying.\"\n\nJeremy cursed and pulled her straight out of the Haze. His hastiness brought him not to the courtyard, but to a basement. He'd pulled out wrong. \"Maren. Maren!\" He shook her and she opened her eyes.\n\nMaren looked up at him and massaged her head. \"Did it work? I feel a little faint.\"\n\nJeremy wanted to embrace her but thought better of it. If she knew how close she came to danger, she wouldn't try his backup plan. Jeremy was determined to bring her to Earth. He hoped her drowsiness would smooth over his lie. \"You're fine. Can you excuse me for just one second?\"\n\n\"Sure.\" Maren sat up and looked around at the unfamiliar basement. \"Wait!\"\n\nBut Jeremy had already slipped through the air.\n\n\"Lyrna!\"\n\n\"Mew.\"\n\n\"Okay, so you can detect her vital signs, right?\"\n\n\"Mew.\"\n\n\"Let's try the backup plan. I'm going to need you by my side for this.\"\n\n\"Mew.\"\n\n\"Jeremy,\" whispered Maren. \"Jeremy!\" a little louder. The air stunk of mildew and spilled liquor. Maren crawled under a dilapidated card table and listened to the footsteps overhead. A bunch of men were talking in low voices. One let out a callous laugh. They were coming down the stairs.\n\nJeremy appeared and looked around.\n\n\"Jeremy, here!\" Maren motioned for him. \"Do something! Get me out of here!\"\n\nLyrna leapt to the floor beside Jeremy.\n\nJeremy looked around at the dank basement. \"Sorry about this,\" he gestured to the unfamiliar scenery. \"Quick, Lyrna.\"\n\nLyrna ran under the table and placed her paw on Maren's leg.\n\n\"Out of one-hundred,\" said Jeremy.\n\n\"Half plus half of half,\" answered Lyrna, assessing her vitals.\n\n\"Um... eighty-five.\"\n\nMaren gave Jeremy a questioning look, but then his hand was lifting her up and she went unconscious.\n\nIn the Haze, Jeremy floated as fast as he could through the purple currents. He passed by a woman with an IV in her arm. \"Have you seen my son?\" she asked drowsily. Lyrna turned and disappeared and Jeremy saw the Haze twitch. He pushed himself through a dense mass of pink and soon the pink opened up and Lyrna was to his left, already changing directions. She floated upside down and disappeared again. Jeremy did the same, weaving in and out of the dead, until at last Lyrna indicated a spot to leave. \"Here.\"\n\nJeremy pushed them out and landed on a rock pile beside a swamp. They were on a distant, small planet in the Farmoore Galaxy with a red sky and a mountainous terrain. Jeremy pulled Maren onto the rocks and watched her take her first breath. She opened her eyes and coughed.\n\n\"She's disoriented,\" said Jeremy, and Lyrna set her paw on her lap.\n\n\"Half plus third of half.\"\n\nJeremy lifted Maren up and pulled the oxygen mask from her backpack. He quickly attached it to her face. \"Breathe.\"\n\nMaren nodded and lay back, resting her head on his lap.\n\nLyrna hopped up and down. \"Soul needs me.\"\n\n\"Be quick.\"\n\nLyrna disappeared back into the Haze.\n\nJeremy swatted some bugs from his face and winced. The atmosphere was comparable to Earth, but with less oxygen. The sun was blazing overhead. Last time he did the trial run, he hadn't realized how hot it was here.\n\nMaren pulled the mask off her face. \"Earth?\" she managed.\n\n\"No, not yet.\" Jeremy stroked her blonde hair. Beads of sweat were collecting on his forehead and he felt like he might soon need the oxygen mask too. Jeremy heard a roaring sound from somewhere in the sky. That's when he saw it. He looked up. A large ball of blue-red flame was hurling towards them, filling the sky with bright orange ripples.\n\nMaren saw it too and rolled over, tearing the mask off.\n\n\"Lyrna!\" yelled Jeremy. \"Come on, Lyrna, we have to go!\" He disappeared for a moment, but quickly reappeared. The fireball was coming closer and looming large.\n\nThe mud around the base of the rock bed was beginning to heat up, and little insect-like creatures started to crawl from out of the ground, raising little pink tubes to the blood-red sky.\n\nAnd then it was too hot, and Jeremy thought he might faint. He pulled Maren through to the Haze. \"Lyrna! We need our next point! Lyrna!\" Lyrna was nowhere to be found.\n\nJeremy swam towards a light patch of Haze. Sweat poured off his body but he held tight to Maren, afraid she might slip away from him. He pushed his head partially out of the Haze and into deep space. Jeremy fell back into the Haze, light-headed and in pain. He heard something in his head pop and then everything turned black.\n\nA warbled sound seeped into his brain. \"Jer...\"\n\nJeremy's eyelashes fluttered open and he felt fur against his face and a wet nose pressing into his cheek. \"Lyrna?\"\n\n\"You lay.\" Lyrna peered down at him.\n\n\"Maren?\"\n\n\"You almost crush brain. Pressure change.\"\n\n\"Where's Maren?\"\n\n\"I'm here, Jeremy.\" Maren's voice was weak.\n\nJeremy turned his head towards her. She was lying beside him on a patch of green grass. The air felt cool and there was a slight breeze.\n\n\"Earth,\" whispered Lyrna.\n\nJeremy moaned. He sat up slowly on his elbows. \"Maren, I am so sorry.\"\n\n\"Thanks for the quick, painless journey.\" Maren frowned and reached out to pet Lyrna who was sitting between them.\n\n\"Sorry,\" said Jeremy as he rubbed his head. He sat up and gazed at the rows of corn. They were on a farm. \"Pretty plot of land.\"\n\nLyrna crouched low. \"Maren go below half.\"\n\nJeremy winced and looked at Maren, who was slowly recovering on the grass. \"It was selfish of me, I know.\"\n\nWhen Maren recovered enough to walk, Lyrna excused herself and went back into the Haze, leaving Jeremy and Maren to their own devices. Together they walked to a road and followed it to a convenience store, where they discovered they were in Mantua, New Jersey.\n\n\"Map, please,\" said Jeremy, waving his hand at the store clerk.\n\n\"Jeremy, we don't have any money,\" whispered Maren.\n\n\"I've brought jewels.\" Jeremy smiled and held up a tiny gem.\n\nThe store clerk, a thin, freckled youth with a white apron tied sloppily around his bony hips, nervously inspected the gem and looked behind him for his manager. \"Well, we don't usually...\"\n\n\"Well you should, it'd be smart business.\"\n\n\"I think it's illegal, sir,\" said the clerk boy, who was growing increasingly nervous.\n\nMaren looked down at her clothes, which were streaked in mud. \"Jeremy,\" she pointed to his clothes.\n\n\"Well, how about this?\" asked the store clerk, his voice wavering as he helped himself to the give-a-penny, take-a-penny jar. \"I'll just... and you can...\" He handed a map over to Jeremy with a shaky hand and slid the penny jar to his cash register.\n\n\"Okay, thank you,\" said Maren, dragging Jeremy out of the store. When they got outside, she turned on him. \"You've got to have a better plan than that! Jewels? Your plan is to barter with jewels? You look like a junkie who robbed a jewelry store!\"\n\n\"Relax, Earthlings love me,\" he said with a grin.\n\n\"Well we'd better get somewhere safe and then you need to figure out an alternate route to getting me home.\"\n\nJeremy kicked a stone and sighed.\n\n\"We'll visit my adoptive family and then leave. It's clear to me now that you've placed blind faith in a blind plan.\"\n\nJeremy wagged his finger in her face. \"Ah, wrong. I can get back to Watico rather quickly with Lyrna's help. You, on the other hand, have placed blind faith in me.\"\n\n\"Which I won't be doing again,\" said Maren through gritted teeth.\n\n\"And, unfortunately, which you'll have to do again very soon.\"\n\nMaren glared at him as he brought the small jewel to his lips.\n\nHe kissed it and winked at her. \"Now let's see if this gem can get us a ride.\"\nChapter 9\n\nThe Reunion\n\nBy nightfall, Jeremy and Maren managed to pawn some jewels for cash and catch a train heading northeast. The other passengers on the train were totally passive, in that extreme state of comfort that develops from the repetition of public transportation. But Jeremy and Maren fidgeted and remarked on all the landmarks they passed. They were on vacation after all.\n\nFrom the train station, they caught a cab to Bruce and Janet's place. Their driver was an old man named Herman who had a horseshoe of thin gray hair and a large pair of spectacles. Herman hunched over his steering wheel with his elbows jutting out and grunted whenever he heard either Jeremy or Maren's voice rise at the end of a question.\n\n\"I can't just turn up. How will I get into the building?\"\n\n\"Ugh,\" grunted Herman from the front seat.\n\nJeremy shivered at the old man's grunt. \"I'll get you in, but we need a story.\"\n\n\"We?\"\n\n\"Ugh.\"\n\nJeremy winced. \"Stop doing that, please,\" he called to the front.\n\n\"Jeremy,\" whispered Maren, smacking his leg. \"Be nice.\"\n\n\"Lover's quarrel?\" asked Herman.\n\nJeremy placed his hands behind his head and reclined back in his seat. \"Yes.\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"That should be our angle, Maren.\" Jeremy sat up straight and faced her. \"Tell your adoptive parents that we ran away together.\"\n\n\"That's out of character,\" she said flatly.\n\n\"Is it?\" Jeremy smiled.\n\n\"This is different!\" Maren stiffened. She then crossed her arms and looked out the window. He had no idea just how much she'd struggled over her decision to travel to Earth with him. It had nothing to do with his gifts, and everything to do with seeing Janet and Bruce again. After losing her real mother, Maren couldn't stand the thought of her adoptive parents believing her to be dead. Maren sighed and made eye contact with the backseat passengers of the next car over. Three children were smearing their faces against the glass. \"Fine,\" she said. \"I ran off with you because you were a friend from my past and memories were flooding back to me and I became confused. Remember? My adoptive parents thought I had amnesia?\"\n\n\"Ugh,\" grunted the old man in the front seat.\n\n\"And you were in love with me,\" Jeremy added, placing his hand on his heart. \"Madly in love. And this you'll have to work at. You need to be convincing.\"\n\n\"As I remember it, you kidnapped me from our apartment. Maybe you should just wait outside.\"\n\n\"Maybe we've already eloped, and you were afraid to tell them.\"\n\n\"Wrong emotion. If we eloped I would feel shame, not fear.\"\n\nJeremy looked hurt. \"It's only a story, Maren. No need to be painfully honest right now.\"\n\nMaren's eyes welled up unexpectedly. \"I didn't mean―\"\n\n\"The secret is,\" called Herman, \"you have to grow together and share some hobbies. Too much space means she grows in one direction, he grows in the other. Between work and doing your own thing, you'll grow apart. You need shared experiences. That's how to make a marriage work.\"\n\n\"Thanks for that, Herman.\"\n\nThey got out a short distance from Maren's adoptive parents' apartment. Behind the massive building, the city's skyline was red in clouds; twilight was still half an hour away. Jeremy artfully short-circuited the apartment complex's front door, and he and Maren rode the elevator up to the 11th floor in silence. When at last they arrived at Janet and Bruce's apartment door, Jeremy hesitated. \"Are you sure you want to see them now?\"\n\n\"Yes.\" The butterflies were beginning to swarm in Maren's stomach. She hadn't quite figured out what to say to her former parents, but was too impatient to devise a sound plan. Maybe they'd forgotten Jacey Moon, Jeremy's alter ego. Maybe he'd charm them and offer some persuasive explanation for her disappearance. She knew he'd insist on whatever story he wanted and it was no use fighting him. She just hoped he'd work with her to make it seamless.\n\nMaren rang the doorbell and then fiddled with her hands. Jeremy grabbed one and gave her a quick squeeze for encouragement. The door opened.\n\n\"Oh!\" It was Janet, Maren's adoptive Earth mother. She wrapped her arms around Maren and rocked her back and forth. \"Maren, we were so worried! Maren!\" She sobbed softly into Maren's jacket and Maren cried too, and soon Bruce, Maren's Earth father, had joined them.\n\nJeremy took a step back and fidgeted. Bruce looked up at him and froze.\n\n\"Maren, what's he doing here?\"\n\n\"Him? Oh, um, well this is―\"\n\n\"We're together.\"\n\n\"It's Jacey Moon,\" whispered Janet, now clutching Maren's shoulders.\n\nMaren gave a nervous laugh. \"Oh, yes! Yes, we're... good friends. I am so sorry for leaving, I was just ―\"\n\n\"She was so confused,\" said Jeremy. \"So disoriented, and I took care of her. She just had to remember a couple of things, find her... real parents. That sort of thing.\" He nodded at no one in particular.\n\n\"Why don't you both come inside,\" said Janet nervously.\n\nJeremy and Maren made themselves as comfortable as possible on a beige love seat while Bruce went to make tea and Janet stared at Maren.\n\n\"And Jacey, is he your boyfriend?\" Janet forced a smile, but her lips twitched.\n\n\"Yes, he is,\" said Maren. She shifted uneasily on the couch.\n\nBruce entered the room. He held up a phone and walked slowly towards them. \"Maren, I've dialed 911 just now―I haven't pressed the call button. If you're being held against your will, please say so now.\"\n\nMaren jumped up from the couch. \"No! Please don't! I'll explain everything.\" She froze, her eyes wide and pleading.\n\nBruce lowered the phone. \"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't call the police. Jacey is wanted for murder.\"\n\nMaren felt behind her for Jeremy and fell back in his lap.\n\n\"Maren didn't know,\" said Jeremy, his voice catching. \"I never killed anyone but I knew I was wanted by the police, so I admit to misleading her for my own selfish purposes. That's the truth.\"\n\nMaren turned around and looked at him, her mouth slightly agape.\n\n\"Maren,\" said Bruce, lifting the phone, \"what did he tell you?\"\n\n\"He,\" she looked into Jeremy's eyes, \"told me he could help me find my real parents if I went with him. I was scared.\"\n\n\"And did you find them?\" Bruce's voice was strained.\n\n\"No.\" Maren hesitated and then pressed herself into Jeremy's chest. She tucked her head into his shoulder.\n\n\"We've had a tumultuous couple of weeks. I knew I'd be endangering myself if I brought her back here, but she wanted to let you know she was okay. Like I said, memories have been resurfacing for her.\"\n\n\"And he's helped me so much,\" said Maren. \"We were childhood friends. Please don't turn him over to the police!\"\n\n\"Okay,\" said Bruce. He placed the phone back on its holder and sighed. \"Well he can't stay here tonight.\"\n\nMaren jumped up to protest, but Jeremy intervened. \"It's okay, Maren. I'll see you in the morning. Don't worry about me. You need time to talk as a family.\" Jeremy quickly said his goodbyes, kissed Maren's hand, and then bowed himself out of the room. The door was double bolted behind him.\nChapter 10\n\nNews\n\nJeremy strolled down the stairwell, amusing himself with the memory of when he had kidnapped Maren, or swept her off her feet, depending on one's point of view. When he reached the bottom, he entered into the Haze. \"Lyrna!\" He pushed up through a cloud of magenta, and kicked himself backwards as though he were doing a backstroke in water. \"Lyrna,\" he sang out.\n\nLyrna appeared.\n\nIt never ceased to fascinate Jeremy how quickly the Haze had adapted to him. The animal spirits no longer raced towards him, their teeth bared and claws outstretched. The Haze had accepted him, accommodated him even. And Jeremy felt more alive with each visit. \"Can you take me to Earth?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Lyrna. Her gray fluffy tail swirled in front of her face and for a second, she was lost to him. Her pupils enlarged and her whiskers twitched. She spun around, chasing her tail with sharp determination.\n\n\"Lyrna,\" interrupted Jeremy after the chase had gone on long enough.\n\nLyrna halted and at last seemed to recognize that her tail was, in fact, just her tail. \"This way.\" She began to float away and Jeremy followed.\n\n\"You find,\" said Lyrna after a few minutes had elapsed.\n\nJeremy stopped and looked around him. It was somehow familiar. He could feel Watico and his castle. \"Here?\" He ran his hand over a point in the Haze and a small tear appeared.\n\n\"Close.\"\n\nJeremy withdrew his hand and soon the tear repaired itself. \"This is the bakery.\" He looked to Lyrna for confirmation.\n\n\"All places. You go, you know.\"\n\nJeremy considered this. Could he recognize a place from the inside out? \"And my bedroom is... here?\" He moved aside a small section of Haze and twirled his finger about.\n\n\"Yes,\" Lyrna smiled and leapt up.\n\nAfter entering his bedroom, Jeremy raced downstairs and ran along the long corridor to his parents' quarters. He entered his dad's room without knocking.\n\n\"Jeremy!\" Wantoro spun around. He was wearing a night robe that fell past his feet and dragged on the floor. \"What's going on, Mateo told me he found a note!\"\n\n\"Maren's fine, we're fine.\"\n\n\"Is she here? What were you thinking!\"\n\nJeremy took a step back and held his hands up. \"She's not here, but she'll be coming back soon. I should have just called.\"\n\n\"Go and get her!\" Wantoro began mumbling under his breath―something about the recklessness of youth―as he paced his room.\n\n\"Tomorrow. She's fine, really. This is something we had to do. You wouldn't understand.\"\n\nWantoro came to a halt.\n\n\"I'll bring her back safe, just tell Mateo we have lunch plans tomorrow.\" Jeremy was about to walk out of the room when his father stammered.\n\n\"Why don't you tell him. Now. I'll get on conference video.\" Wantoro walked to his closet. He pressed a button and a large screen descended from the ceiling. \"I'll just leave you two to it. And when you're done, I'd like a word.\"\n\nJeremy nodded and his father walked out of the room. The video conference began to ring. Jeremy fidgeted and placed his hands behind his back. He began to roll on his feet. That's when he noticed the sweat form on his brow. He had just staged a romance with Maren for Maren's adoptive parents. It was awkward and clumsy. But now, somehow, he felt exposed and vulnerable. He'd really taken someone's daughter.\n\nThe video conference gave a buzz and Mateo's soft, gentle face appeared in front of him. He was still thin from his three-year imprisonment, and Jeremy could see traces of Maren in his eyes, the way the brow lifted, creating an open expression of perpetual wonderment.\n\n\"Um,\" began Jeremy, suddenly feeling incredibly nervous. Had he ever exchanged words one on one with Maren's father?\n\n\"Cajjez Jeremy! Is my daughter all right?\"\n\n\"Yes. Please just call me Jeremy.\" Jeremy swallowed and watched as Mateo's features lightened.\n\n\"Of course, Jeremy.\"\n\n\"I'm uh,\" Jeremy wiped his brow, \"sorry for taking Maren with me.\"\n\n\"Oh, you didn't take her. I know my daughter, she was a willing participant.\" Mateo gave a little laugh.\n\n\"Well I... care about her so I'll make sure she's safe.\"\n\nMateo sighed and Jeremy could detect slight irritation. \"Of course. But please bring her home in one piece.\"\n\n\"We're just going to lunch tomorrow, then our vacation will end.\"\n\nMateo made a popping sound with his mouth and then scratched distractedly at his chin. \"Oh,\" Mateo moved in close to the screen and his mouth was magnified to an unsavory level. Jeremy grimaced at the intimacy. \"Tell her I want chicken. If she's gone to Earth with you, she should at least bring back chicken.\"\n\n\"Yes, sir. I mean...!\" Jeremy backed away from the wall-sized lips, and tripped over a coffee table.\n\nMateo let out a booming laugh. Flustered, Jeremy got to his feet, determined to end the conversation.\n\n\"We're not on Earth, Mateo. How would we even get there? I mean, well, I'm going to bed. I'll be in contact soon.\"\n\n\"And you'll bring my daughter? And the chicken?\" Mateo jabbed at the screen and smiled.\n\n\"Good night, sir.\"\n\nThe monitor clicked off and Jeremy stood for a moment, confused. He'd killed Mateo's wife, Gillian. Now he had his daughter entwined in his schemes, and Mateo somehow knew it, and yet he was laughing about chicken. Jeremy both admired Maren's father and pitied him. I'll bring Maren home safely, he promised himself.\n\nSleep was descending fast on Jeremy and he rubbed his eyes. Wantoro entered the room and took a look at his son. \"You'd better get some sleep.\"\n\n\"Didn't you have something you wanted to talk to me about?\"\n\n\"It can wait.\" Wantoro held the door open for Jeremy. \"Sleep well.\"\n\nAnd Jeremy did sleep well, which was all very well for Wantoro. He knew his son wouldn't much like the news.\n\nJeremy dressed himself in a pale pink button down and jeans. He sat for a long time in front of his mirror playing with his hair and rearranging it in large, disheveled spikes with his styling wax. When he had finished, his hair was voluminous, shiny, and perfectly messy. Jeremy stuffed jewels from his jewelry box into his messenger bag as he made his way to his mother's bedside.\n\nJeremy took a seat beside her. \"A quick song for you this morning, Mother.\" Jeremy set his bag down at his feet and took a quick gulp of water. \"Something light and happy. I've just composed it.\"\n\nI've built a fortress atop the sea,\n\nUnder the same warm and dazzling sun\n\nThat beats down on a sheer bare cliff.\n\nMy fever burns away,\n\nQuiet, like the drift of petals.\n\nLooking down, I see the sea foam.\n\nI press a leaf\n\nAgainst the rock\n\nAnd trace a sapphire.\n\nMy Muse sings with such sweetness,\n\nI cannot turn away;\n\nI sit always by the sea.\n\nJeremy slipped out of the room and was met by his father in the hallway. They walked together to a balcony that opened up to the outside. The morning sun was rising in the east and Jeremy breathed in fresh air. \"Ah,\" he said, \"it changes you, getting out like this.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Wantoro sadly. \"Jeremy, I don't know how else to say this but...\"\n\nJeremy locked eyes with his father and cocked his head slightly to the side. \"But...?\"\n\n\"Yesterday afternoon there were three demon sightings, all within a mile-long radius in Fengra.\"\n\n\"Here?\" Jeremy shook his head, an incomprehensible fear sweeping over him. \"That's practically at the castle's doorsteps!\"\n\n\"And in each instance, the witness reported that the demons had said your name. There were three of them, traveling together. That's the intelligence.\"\n\nJeremy started back in the castle. \"Where are these people? What did they see?\"\n\n\"They're undergoing psychiatric treatment. I'm having them moved to a confidential location so I can have their stories extracted without medicine clouding their memories. I'm taking this very seriously.\"\n\nJeremy threw his hands up. \"They're coming for me. I can't be here.\"\n\n\"Jeremy, calm down.\"\n\n\"I can't bring them here!\"\n\n\"I'm arranging a meeting with leaders of each major religion, top scientists, and even some self-proclaimed psychics. We'll figure this―\"\n\n\"There's no time! You have to leave here! They're coming!\" Jeremy disappeared into the Haze.\nChapter 11\n\nAmong Friends\n\nJeremy closed his eyes, exhaled, and entered the Haze. He felt a heaviness in the air, foreign to this ethereal realm. The pink clouds were muddy, tinged at the edges and streaked with grease. Fear had always been part of the Haze, as the souls both longed for and dreaded the sorting, leaving hues of purple. But now there were heavier vibrations: anger, cruelty, greed, and lust.\n\nThe black wisps seeped into him, spawning memories that brought him shame. You liked hurting them, savored it, they whispered. It was like sex, like rape. So poignant, so delicious. You tore them: sharp phallus, net of Mammon, spiral of Pan, incubus. He wept for a time, but could not rid himself of the images. He lifted his shirt, so meaningless in the Haze where all was laid bare, and scratched at his chest, raking streaks of blood. Purge yourself, you filth, you leach. Then he was scourging Maren with a cat of nine tails, licking her cuts with a barbed tongue. She hated him, was praying for his damnation. Then, there was a beacon in the darkness.\n\nA circle glowed in the distance, and Lyrna emerged from the fog, illuminated. As she charged towards him in a wave of light, the black threads dispelled, and the visions died. She grew closer, closer, and leapt into his arms. They embraced, and the air was at peace for now.\n\n\"Lyrna, I had a vision, an omen of things to come!\" Jeremy cursed. \"The demons are on Watico now. There were sitings in Fengra!\"\n\nLyrna meowed sadly.\n\n\"I don't know what to do. Take me to Maren.\"\n\nShe guided him to Earth and together, they managed to find the drop-off point to Maren's adoptive parents' apartment. Jeremy hugged Lyrna. \"I'll be in touch soon.\"\n\nIt was an early summer morning in New York City, and flustered commuters pushed and sighed past Jeremy, their hands cradling espressos and newspapers. The air was misty and gray, and a cool breeze blew against Jeremy's skin. As Jeremy made his way to Maren's apartment door, nervous energy shot through his body in waves. What did the demons want with him? Would they hurt his father, mother or Maren? Maren opened the door and stepped right into him.\n\n\"Oh!\" said Maren. \"Jeremy!\"\n\nJeremy was about to open his mouth when a young woman rushed past Maren wearing a leopard print body suit.\n\n\"Who's your friend?\" asked the flamboyant stranger, looking Jeremy up and down and teasing her brown hair out.\n\n\"Jeremy, this is Tina. Tina, Jeremy.\"\n\n\"Oh, and is he...?\" Tina turned to Maren and whispered in her ear, giggling.\n\n\"No, nothing like that,\" said Maren. She tucked her hair behind her ears and her mouth tensed.\n\n\"Party at my place tonight in the Hamptons.\"\n\n\"Tina, don't!\" Maren crossed her arms. \"Just a couple of people.\"\n\nTina smacked her gum loudly in Maren's face and then turned to Jeremy. \"We're celebrating her return! A small gathering, I hear you. Maren, you're going to have the best party!\" Tina smiled and flung herself on Maren. \"Bring your new friend.\" Tina blew them both kisses and ran away.\n\nJeremy ran his hand over his eyes. \"Am I seeing this correctly? A friend of yours?\"\n\nMaren laughed and pressed her back against the apartment door. \"Part of my group of friends. She's closer to my friend Fiona. They were childhood best friends. I just put up with her.\"\n\nJeremy closed his eyes and replayed Maren's laugh in his head. He couldn't ruin her party. He couldn't remind her that she'd made a mistake to ever get involved with him. He'd keep quiet on the demon news for now. \"I talked to your dad.\"\n\n\"Oh yeah?\" Maren looked up at Jeremy with wide eyes.\n\n\"I told him I'd bring you back safely and that you're okay.\" Jeremy smiled. \"And he demands Earth chicken.\"\n\nMaren's jaw dropped. \"He knows?\"\n\n\"Or suspects. I neither denied nor confirmed our whereabouts.\"\n\nMaren changed into a short purple dress and put more makeup on than Jeremy had ever seen her wear in her life: dramatic black eyeliner, dark, thick mascara, silver eyeshadow, a light dusting of mineral powder, and finally some pink blush on her cheeks. One thing she didn't compromise on was her flat shoes, and she chose silver gladiator sandals which wrapped around her legs. Jeremy was all smiles.\n\n\"You never dress like this for the Watican balls.\"\n\n\"This is different; this is a party.\" Maren put on a pair of peacock feather earrings and slid a bracelet onto her wrist.\n\nJeremy and Maren met up with Maren's friend Fiona, who everyone called \"Frisky.\" Before meeting Frisky, Jeremy had amused himself imagining someone more sexually suggestive than Maren's leopard-print-wearing friend Tina. Maren assured him the nickname Frisky was a joke, because Frisky was in fact incredibly pious and prudent.\n\nThis made Jeremy laugh too. He immediately thought of Maren, but her current wardrobe quickly chased that thought away.\n\n\"Hi, I'm Frisky.\" Frisky ducked into the limo and held her hand out to Jeremy. She had mousy brown hair, small black rimmed glasses, and a wide mouth, and wore a flower print dress over top of black leggings. Without putting too much thought into it, Jeremy kissed her hand. Frisky quickly withdrew her hand and turned a bright shade of crimson. She jumped into the limo and sat beside Maren, not daring to look up at Jeremy for the remainder of the ride.\n\nJeremy sat quietly and listened to Maren and Frisky talk about Maren's supposed memory recovery and her quest to search for her biological parents. Frisky was saddened to hear that Maren couldn't find them, and quickly changed the subject to gossip about a guy named Mitch. He would be at Tina's party.\n\nMitch. Jeremy didn't like the incredibly mediocre sound of this guy, or maybe it was Maren's flustered demeanor that bothered him.\n\n\"Mitch will be there?\" asked Maren.\n\n\"Yes, Tina made sure to invite him and his cousin, Frank. Mitch got into the NYU summer writing program, did she tell you? His classes started two weeks ago. I think he's going to share a poem with us tonight.\" Frisky clapped her hands together. It was the giddy sort of excitement that only a friend who lives vicariously through another can bring.\n\n\"I can't wait to hear it,\" said Maren. She gave a side-glance to Jeremy.\n\n\"I didn't know you were friends with a brilliant poet.\" Jeremy sat upright and feigned an interest in his nails. \"I look forward to meeting him.\"\n\nThe limo pulled into the driveway. Jeremy could see a bonfire on the beach behind the property. The house was large and had blue siding and wide windows with white shutters. It looked like a charming beach home, expensive and with a well-manicured lawn. Jeremy's eyes scanned the side of the house and fell upon what appeared to be a runway. His eyes traveled the length of the runway; at the end was a large, black garage with white letters that read: Fantasia Jet. But he was soon distracted by an even more eye-catching display.\n\nTina bounded out the front doors wearing what might pass as lingerie―a red bra and matching red mini skirt under a see-through leopard print shirt. \"Lollipops!\" she screamed, tossing cherry flavored lollipops at her guests. Jeremy, Maren, and Frisky each caught one. Jeremy looked down at the lollipop label. It read: \"Cherry Popper.\" The party followed Tina inside.\n\nThe interior of the house looked respectable enough. Jeremy slid his hand over the top of a black leather couch, envisioning his outfit against the leather―a silk pink button down dress shirt and skinny jeans―and eased on down. It felt cool and refreshing. Maren and Frisky froze after he'd staked out the couch, unsure about whether to move to the next room. They chose to sit down beside him. Others, too, now wandered into the room. Jeremy assumed they were assembling around Maren, but saw two women point to him and giggle. He flashed them a grin.\n\n\"So this is where the party is,\" said Tina. She sat on the floor by Jeremy's feet. \"How'd you two meet?\" She looked up at Jeremy and tossed her hair back.\n\n\"We've known each other since we were kids. Our parents were friends.\" Jeremy looked over at Maren who nodded.\n\n\"Your parents were friends with her parents? Well that's it, then. Can't you tell her who her parents are?\" Tina crinkled her nose.\n\n\"Oh, well,\" Jeremy rubbed his chin to buy time. \"We think they might have been in the witness protection program. No trace of them, no record.\" He found Maren's eyes and she seemed relieved by his recovery. \"But we probably shouldn't talk about this\" Jeremy feigned empathy and gestured towards Maren.\n\n\"You and Maren must be pretty close then?\" blurted Tina. She gripped Jeremy's leg. \"I mean, you're practically like brother and sister, you've known each other so long.\"\n\nJeremy straightened. \"Not at all―I mean, we're close, I think, but not like brother and sister.\"\n\n\"Hmm...\" Tina scanned the next room over. \"Hey Maren, I think Mitch is in the other room if you wanna go talk to him.\"\n\n\"Is he?' Maren stood up and pulled her dress down. She paused briefly before walking away, Frisky at her heels.\n\n\"Can I join you?\" Tina asked Jeremy, slinking onto the couch. \"Meoowww! I love leopards, can you tell?\"\n\nJeremy laughed. \"No, you're like an enigma, so hard to read.\"\n\n\"It's so good to see Maren and Mitch reunited. She was crazy over him. He was into her too, of course, but you know Maren. She can be so prude.\"\n\n\"Really?\" Jeremy turned around on the couch and narrowed his eyes. \"But they weren't together?\"\n\n\"It was going to happen soon, right before she disappeared. He was going to ask her out.\" Tina began to rub Jeremy's back. \"They're perfect for each other.\"\n\nJeremy pushed Tina's hands off his back and ran his fingers through his hair. \"What's this guy like?\"\n\nTina frowned. \"Mitch? He's clever, athletic, and a writer. Triangular torso, square jaw. Attractive... but he pales in comparison to you. Hey, are you a model?\" Tina smiled at Jeremy and tapped her acrylic fingernails on the top of the leather couch seductively.\n\nJeremy cursed and stood up, causing Tina to jump. \"I want to meet this Renaissance man.\" He walked out of the room.\n\nThe next room over was large and rectangular and had a little stage set up in the corner. A few guys were tinkering with sound equipment and guitars. Suddenly the speakers turned on and there was a loud hiss. Everyone in the room complained loudly, and some guy shouted, \"Okay, relax! We'll turn it down.\" The speaker gave a slight hum and order was restored.\n\nJeremy scanned the room. A small crowd had gathered just to the left of the stage. Maren was giving some preppy jackass a hug: Mitch. Jeremy felt a surge of rage race through his body. He closed his eyes hoping to blink the image away.\n\nA guy was on the stage now, cradling his guitar. This ought to be good, thought Jeremy as he slipped between two women to get closer. One of the women gave a little wave and touched his shoulder as he passed, but Jeremy ignored this. He wanted to humiliate Mitch, the guy who, against all odds, had captured Maren's fancy.\n\nNow some tortured singer-songwriter with a gravelly voice was singing about his soul to power chords. Jeremy shuddered. He could see Maren tilt her head back: she was laughing. Mitch was laughing too. He'd delivered some hilarious line and had Maren in stitches. It was the first time Jeremy really caught a glimpse of his face: all chin, thought Jeremy, taking in the prominent protrusion. Mitch was tall, like Jeremy, but that was where the similarities ended. He was wider, and where Jeremy had a lean, muscular physique, Mitch was more of a fridge. He's fat, thought Jeremy. It couldn't be all muscle. Fat. Jeremy found himself looking at Mitch's shoes. Sneakers? He gasped. Ugly, white, bulbous sneakers? Jeremy looked down at his own hand-crafted, brown leather shoes with squared tips. Much better. Jeremy ran his fingers through his perfectly tousled hair, grimacing as he eyed the stubble that passed for hair on Mitch's head. A buzz cut, really? He's awfully generic looking. But then he's a writer. Jeremy considered that Mitch might be playing up the \"I'm so masculine but actually have a deep burning passion for words\" angle. But combined with the shoes? This guy was about as edgy as his Reeboks.\n\nSuddenly the tortured singer-songwriter was leaving the stage, and Mitch was stepping up behind the mic. He leaned over and said something inaudible to Maren, who smiled sweetly and then held her hand up over her mouth. She'd remain in the same position for the duration of Mitch's pathetic pathos. Mitch leaned into the mic, a shaky hand lifting a sheet of paper to his face.\n\nMy place of recovery, turning afternoon blips\n\ninto heart attacks,\n\nThe kind that make you drunk for love.\n\nYou reach for a tissue and find it―\n\na friend and so much more,\n\nGone.\n\nGone.\n\nGone.\n\nShe lived to see the spider-wasps hatch;\n\nShe's lost like silk in the wind.\n\nMitch brought the piece of paper down from his face and smiled at Maren. Everyone clapped appreciatively as Maren jumped onto the stage and wrapped her arms around him. \"That was lovely,\" she said.\n\n\"I never actually finished it―it was too painful for me to write. But now that you're back again―\"\n\nJeremy had stepped onto the stage now and he waved at the crowd. He spun on the spot, bumping into Mitch's shoulder. Everyone quieted as Mitch shuffled off the stage. Maren shot Jeremy a look of disapproval as she stepped down with Mitch.\n\n\"Hi,\" Jeremy called out to the crowd. \"That was nice―a little poem. Short and sweet.\" He paused and looked out at the crowd, then to Mitch. \"You'll have to work on your presence, of course. My name is Jeremy Chikalto. I'd love to sing you a little song you might recognize. As for inspiration―that remains an open question.\" Jeremy looked off-stage for a guitar and managed to gracefully lift one up from a confused young man's hands. He strummed it, and gently adjusted the strings to perfect pitch. He took a seat center stage. He hummed into the microphone―the voice of an angel―and a hush swept over the audience. Jeremy began finger-picking an intricate rhythm, the dynamics ebbing and flowing with feeling, the chord progression haunting. Jeremy's voice was a rounded bell ringing over the sacred architecture of his picking:\n\nI saw a windstorm coming from the north,\n\na cloud with lightning, surrounded by light.\n\nThe center was glowing metal,\n\nand in the fire were four creatures,\n\neach with four wings and four hands.\n\nEach had the face of a man, the face of a lion,\n\nthe face of an ox, and the face of an eagle.\n\nWherever the spirit would go, they would go,\n\nwithout turning as they went.\n\nWheels lay on the ground next to them.\n\nThe wheels sparkled like topaz, and all looked alike.\n\nEach was a wheel intersecting a wheel.\n\nAs they moved, they would go where the creatures were faced;\n\nthe wheels did not change direction and\n\ntheir rims were high and full of eyes all around.\n\nJeremy strummed his last chord on the guitar and set it on his lap. He looked up at the blank faces blinking back at him. The women, moved by his voice, their eyes glazed with tears, chilled Jeremy with a sense of otherworldliness. That feeling in the pit of his stomach again, like he was a predator, surfaced and made him sick. He looked for Maren in the crowd and spotted her sulking in the corner, arms crossed. Jeremy shoved the guitar back in the young man's arms and made his way to her, ignoring the clawing of his new admirers and pushing them aside with disdain. He had one target tonight and one alone. Unfortunately, his aim was off.\n\n\"Hi Maren,\" Jeremy did a quick scan for Mitch and saw that she was alone. \"Did you like my song?\"\n\n\"How could you?\" Maren frowned and pulled back.\n\nJeremy narrowed his eyes and shook his head. \"How could I what? Sing? By the looks of it, I quite enhanced the party.\"\n\n\"You had to make this evening about you. This party was for me, Mitch wrote that poem for me! He spilled his heart out to me, about how he thought I'd died, and you critique him on his presence?!\" She slapped pathetically at his chest. \"And then to add insult to injury, you sing with your beautiful voice, and suddenly you're all anyone can talk about! You're so insensitive, Jeremy. Tonight was a big deal for Mitch. He's not a performer; he's not like you!\" Maren threw her hands up over her face and walked into the next room.\n\nJeremy stood there in a daze, a sea of people swarming him, telling him he should be famous, asking him if he'd like to dance, and finally insisting he take a drink. Jeremy's eyes flashed an electric blue and the room lit up momentarily. Everyone cowered for a second and then recovered, thinking the lights were on the fritz. They cheered. \"I do need a drink,\" said Jeremy at last, taking Tina's hand and squeezing through the crowd.\n\nTina poured Jeremy a shot of Jose Cuervo. The strong, cold liquid went down easy and Jeremy slammed the shot glass on the bar table. People sitting around the bar began to stare at Jeremy as word got out about his singing. Jeremy spun himself around on the revolving bar stool and shook his head. \"People can focus on the tiniest detail,\" he said.\n\nTina steadied his seat and attempted a compassionate nod. \"Absolutely.\"\n\n\"Miscommunication happens when intentions aren't clear.\"\n\n\"Sure,\" she nodded and grabbed his hand which was playing with his shot glass. \"Need more?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Your voice,\" continued Tina as she slid a new drink his way, \"is the most beautiful voice I've ever heard. Have you ever recorded anything?\"\n\nJeremy gave this some thought. Of course he'd recorded before. And everyone in an entire galaxy already knew who he was, so it wasn't like fame was his goal. \"No, can't say I have.\"\n\nTina leaned forward and Jeremy caught a glimpse of her cleavage, pushed up in a red lace bra. Tina caught his eyes and lifted his chin with her colorful nails. \"I think you need more.\"\n\n\"I do. You do one with me this time.\" When his glass was filled, Jeremy held it up. \"A toast: To transparency and ravenous appetites.\" He clanked his glass with Tina's, and she smiled.\n\n\"Weird, but sure!\"\n\nAn hour later and Jeremy was lost. He stumbled upstairs and Tina grabbed cupcakes for the two of them. \"Tina, why don't you show me your family's jet?\" Jeremy stuffed a cupcake in his mouth.\n\nA mischievous smile spread across Tina's face. \"Of course, let me just get something real quick.\" Tina took off in a mad dash and reappeared with a bottle of absinthe. \"It's the real stuff.\" She winked before taking Jeremy's hand and leading him outside.\n\nTina's dark brown hair whipped about in Jeremy's face, and between that and the wind, he hardly saw the garage in front of him. Tina jingled a set of keys and opened the garage, revealing a white private jet. \"Ever seen one of these before? We call her Fantasia.\"\n\n\"Maybe,\" he said, caressing its side. \"Get us in here.\"\n\n\"Yes, sir!\" said Tina, and she moved a set of stairs to the hatch door. \"You're going to love this.\" Tina opened the door and beckoned him with her finger. \"Come.\"\n\nJeremy entered the jet and looked around. There were two small dining room tables on either side, each with tan love seats. A basket with fake red, pink, and yellow flowers sat on each table. Beneath his feet was a simple salmon colored rug. \"Too bad, I was hoping for leopard print.\" Jeremy spun around to face Tina as she slinked over to him.\n\n\"I'm going to have to ask you to return to your seat, sir. Can I get you any refreshments?\"\n\n\"I know something about aviation,\" said Jeremy coolly. \"Do you fly?\"\n\n\"I have a couple of times,\" said Tina. She put her hands on her hips. \"My dad owns Belting Aviation.\"\n\n\"Impressive. Show me how to fly this thing.\"\nChapter 12\n\nA Trip\n\nMaren had retreated to the bathroom after being told that Jeremy went with Tina into the jet. Speculation abounded and it was proving to be the hot topic of the party. She looked at the image in the mirror, trying to read her own face.\n\n\"You're sure you're okay?\" asked Frisky, gently knocking on the door.\n\n\"Yes, I'll be out in a second.\" Maren sniffled and stared at her messy doll face. She rinsed off the last of her makeup, which had smeared horribly with her tears, and reapplied mineral powder and mascara. She knew Tina would be all over Jeremy tonight. It was part of the reason why she'd gotten dressed up. But she hadn't expected Jeremy to be all over Tina.\n\nMaren couldn't deny that she was upset with Jeremy for one-upping poor, vulnerable Mitch, a guy who, a couple of months ago, she wanted a relationship with. But now she was just confused. Jeremy drove her crazy. Maren took a deep breath. She knew she had to break Tina and Jeremy up. She had to be that girl, the one who caused a scene. She'd have to step out of character tonight, possibly even be unreasonable, because if she didn't, a little part of her might just die.\n\n\"Maren?\" It was Mitch now.\n\n\"Coming!\" she yelled, more forcefully than she'd meant to. And then Maren closed her eyes and let a stampede of emotion drive her forward. She flung open the bathroom door and raced down the hall at a grueling pace. She didn't quite know what she'd do if she found Jeremy kissing Tina, but it wouldn't be pretty.\n\n\"Where are you going?\" called Frisky, who was now running behind Maren.\n\n\"Is she okay?\" asked a concerned passerby.\n\n\"Hey Maren!\" yelled Mitch, joining Frisky.\n\nMaren could feel the adrenaline pumping through her as she ran out the door and headed towards the plane.\n\nJeremy had his legs resting on the dashboard of the jet's flight board. \"Wonderful, Tina.\"\n\nShe leaned forward and wagged her finger at him. \"Now can we do something I want to do?\"\n\nJeremy closed his eyes and imagined himself kissing Tina. It was sultry and ended in red lipstick all over his lips and neck. But then he thought of Maren, inside the house and sitting on Mitch's lap, looking up at him with her big doe eyes, and hiding half her face behind a timid hand, her legs twisted around each other like a pretzel. Mitch's hand was on her leg. \"No, Tina.\" Jeremy ran his hands through his hair and then irritably tapped his fingers on the dashboard. \"One more thing for me.\"\n\n\"Purr, Master Jeremy!\" Tina clawed at him. She was so intoxicated she almost fell over.\n\n\"I want to lose control. Can you make that happen? I want to sleep here tonight, but I want to be far away.\"\n\nTina crawled into the seat next to him and stared at him, twirling a strand of her brown hair around her finger. \"God you're gorgeous. You must get girls to do everything for you, huh?\" She looked up at the ceiling. \"There's something I could do.... And you'll bunk here with me?\"\n\n\"Whatever, just give me an escape.\" Jeremy massaged his temples. Between Maren's wandering attractions and the demons, Jeremy wanted to forget all sense of time and place.\n\nTina rose from her seat and moved into the cabin, bumping into everything as she walked to the back of the jet. Jeremy heard shuffling and the opening and closing of a cabinet, and then Tina returned with a small bottle of liquid and little pieces of tissue paper. She grabbed Jeremy's hand and placed a small piece on his fingertip. Next, she filled the dropper with a clear liquid. \"You ready?\" she asked, licking her lips.\n\n\"I think so,\" Jeremy watched as Tina placed a drop of acid on his finger.\n\n\"On your tongue,\" she whispered, leaning in close.\n\nJeremy placed the tissue on his tongue. \"More,\" he said and he patted her on the head.\n\nTina held up the syringe and then licked a drop of acid from off the tip. \"One more for you, but this is strong. Let me.\" Tina put a piece of tissue paper on her finger, followed by a drop of acid. Jeremy opened his mouth and she placed it on his tongue. She dropped down and brought her lips to his and was about to kiss him when he turned his head. \"No fair,\" she said, making a pouty face.\n\nMaren barged through the door, followed by Frisky and Mitch. \"Hey!\" she shouted. \"What are you doing?\"\n\n\"Hi Maren,\" Jeremy waved and Tina blew her a kiss.\n\n\"What are you two doing?\" repeated Maren. She walked to the cockpit and grabbed Jeremy by the arm. \"I want to go home.\"\n\n\"Maybe Mitch can take you. I'm staying here.\"\n\nMitch started to agree but Maren held her hand up to silence him. \"Jeremy, I want you to take me home.\" Her voice was stern.\n\n\"You didn't even listen to my song, which was your loss considering how finely crafted it was. I was visualizing a cathedral next to the sea.\" Jeremy stood up but fell back into his chair. He laughed and played with the light dimming control. The lights in the cabin flickered.\n\n\"You're trashed, aren't you?\"\n\n\"I'm soon to be more than trashed.\"\n\n\"Tina, what did you do to him?\"\n\n\"Every trick I know,\" she laughed, then hiccuped. \"Still can't get 'im!\" Tina raked her hands down Jeremy's back and Jeremy swatted her away.\n\n\"Maren,\" Jeremy stood up and reached for Maren. \"I haven't told you,\" he whispered, \"but there are demons.\" He dropped his arm to his side and started shifting his gaze around the room.\n\n\"Jeremy, not here.\" Maren frowned and crossed her arms.\n\n\"Here?\" Jeremy felt his face. \"They probably are!\"\n\n\"What's probably here?\" asked Frisky. She stood beside Maren and adjusted her glasses.\n\n\"Demons,\" said Jeremy in a low voice.\n\n\"No,\" said Tina and her mouth slid into a smile. \"Don't go there, Jeremy! Let's just have fun!\"\n\nJeremy cursed and gripped Maren by the arms. \"We have to get out of here.\"\n\n\"Ouch!\"\n\n\"I'm sorry!\" Jeremy fell to his knees and hugged her legs. \"I should have told you! There were demons on Watico. My father―they were looking for me. They know where I am!\" He buried his head in her lap.\n\n\"Jeremy, get up!\" yelled Maren. \"Stop it!\"\n\nMitch now came beside Maren and placed a cautious hand on Jeremy's shoulder. \"Easy, buddy.\"\n\nJeremy started to cry and Mitch awkwardly stepped back.\n\n\"We dropped acid!\" said Tina, now curled up in the corner. \"I'm sorry! Why's he talking about demons?\" She began to shake, clutching her knees to her chest. \"Let's just have fun!\" she repeated.\n\n\"Did you hear that?\" Jeremy pushed himself up off the floor and stumbled to the side window. He slid his face down the glass. \"It's out there.\"\n\n\"It's not out there, Jeremy. You need to calm down.\"\n\n\"Demons!\" yelled Tina. Mitch and Frisky ran over to Tina and attempted to calm her, but she only screamed louder.\n\nJeremy raced to the control panel and pulled a lever. The jet engine roared to life. Mitch ran over to him and grabbed Jeremy's arm from off the lever. Jeremy sent a bolt of blue energy and Mitch fell back to the floor. Jeremy dragged a shocked Mitch out of the cockpit, then herded a confused Frisky out and locked the doors. Jeremy was sweating profusely now as he sat back in the pilot's seat and clutched the lever. Within a minute, the jet was moving out of the garage and onto the runway. \"Tina!\" he yelled. \"Which one to make it rise?\"\n\n\"Stop it!\" Tina began to sob.\n\nJeremy flicked some switches on as the jet gained speed. It bumped along and then rose sharply in the air. Jeremy turned around and pulled Maren to his side. \"We have to get out! The demons are coming!\"\n\nMaren could feel the roar of lift-off reverberate through her body. She looked into Jeremy's eyes. His pupils pushed against a thin, electric blue rim, and his eyes now seemed to pop out of his head.\n\nLike a child, Maren pawed at his legs. She crawled into his lap, terrified. He'd incited chaos, but being close to him was her safest bet. \"The Haze,\" she begged. \"Take me to the Haze!\"\n\n\"Not yet, they're watching,\" he whispered and laid a firm hand on the back of Maren's neck and tilted the jet higher still.\n\nMaren cried and lay with her head there, against his hand, for what felt like an eternity. At last she steadied her breathing and became aware of her pulse. She knew she had to take charge. Maren closed her eyes. \"It's okay, Jeremy. Sshh.\" She gently stroked Jeremy's arm and began to sing a lullaby. Jeremy responded by dragging his hands across his face and mumbling something incomprehensible.\n\n\"There, there,\" said Maren. She rose slowly to her feet and guided him to a small space behind the pilot's chair. He followed her and let out a moan. Maren quietly cleared a spot for him and helped him to lay back. \"I want you to just try to relax, Jeremy. You're going to be okay.\" Maren looked behind her at the empty pilot seat, and then to Tina, trembling and hunched over on the opposite side of the cockpit. The noise from the outside ripped along the plane's exterior and the plane bounced up and down.\n\n\"Maren, stop... doing it. I can't close my eyes!\" yelled Jeremy, the words all slurred together and mispronounced.\n\n\"You're okay, it's just the acid. I'm going to steer this plane,\" she said softly, \"far away, over the clouds, and we'll be okay.\" Maren glided over to the steering wheel and took a seat, noting that the fuel tank was full. Good, she thought, taking a deep breath. I'll just let us coast until everyone calms down. Maren looked to her left and saw a mic. She grabbed it and held it to her lips, pushing down on a button. \"Hello?\" she said, and she could hear her own voice call back to her in the cabin. \"Frisky, Mitch, it's me, Maren. Everyone stay calm. I've got the plane under control. Let's all just relax for a while.\" Her hand trembled slightly as she set the mic back on its receiver. She could hear Mitch and Frisky shouting through the cockpit door. Jeremy let out a stifled moan and cursed. There was nothing Maren could do but wait. She stared at the open sky in front of her.\n\nThree and a half hours passed before Tina stirred from the floor. \"Maren, where are we?\" she whispered, stretching her legs out in front of her. \"You're back....\" She pointed, \"So colorful, like wings.\"\n\n\"We're just flying the plane.\"\n\n\"And we're okay?\" Tina stood up. \"Today? Is it night?\"\n\n\"It's almost morning.\"\n\n\"Can we come in now?\" asked Frisky through the door.\n\nMaren glanced at Jeremy and he stared back at her absently, moving his lips but not speaking. \"Hold on,\" Maren unlocked the door and closed it behind her. She was now in the cabin.\n\n\"So now what do we do?\" asked Mitch.\n\n\"We still have a lot of fuel. I'm waiting for Tina to get better so she can help me to radio us in.\"\n\n\"Acid, so stupid.\" Frisky crossed her arms and frowned. \"I can't wait to get out of here. It's a flying coffin.\"\n\n\"Do you want me to send Tina back and you two can help her to, um, become sane?\"\n\n\"Sure,\" Mitch nodded.\n\nMaren went back into the cockpit and encouraged Tina to have a seat with Frisky and Mitch. Tina relented, leaving Maren alone with Jeremy.\n\n\"Oh, Jeremy.\" Maren slumped into the seat and studied crazy Jeremy, so detached, so sad in his corner. What drove him to this? Had he really seen demons? Was it just a terrible acid trip? Maren blinked. That's when it hit her―she'd have to forgive him. His life, after all, was one big acid trip. She couldn't expect him to act normal, to go to a party with regular people and just drink and dance. He was an angel. He was electric. His star-shine couldn't be contained. And if that meant that being near him was dangerous....\n\nThe plane dipped sharply and Maren fell to the floor. She heard Frisky scream in the cabin. Maren stood up on shaky legs. The plane had stabilized but now the lights began to flicker. Maren pulled herself to the dashboard and looked down. The compass was spinning. \"Hey...?\" A jolt threw Maren back and she rolled to Jeremy's corner.\n\n\"What? Why?\" Jeremy rubbed his eyes and then stared at his hands.\n\n\"Jeremy, there's something wrong with the plane!\" Maren couldn't help it, she had to yell.\n\nFrisky dragged Tina back into the cockpit. \"What's going on?! Do something!\" she shrieked. Tina ran to the steering wheel and gripped it, releasing it suddenly and screaming.\n\n\"What?\" shouted Mitch, entering the room.\n\n\"It's grabbing me!\" Tina attempted to hold the steering wheel and quickly released it again.\n\n\"It's not grabbing you,\" cried Maren, \"you're just hallucinating!\" The lights dimmed and now they could hear the engine shutting off. The ignition turned, brightness, then darkness, followed by the rumble of a stalled engine. The plane's front dipped down, and everyone fell back against the wall, pressed firmly by the suction of falling 30,000 feet.\n\nMaren rolled herself over onto Jeremy, and screamed his name, but it was drowned out by the wind pressing against the plane's exterior. Then, everything went black.\nChapter 13\n\nArise\n\nA large male raged against his constraints as the orderlies subdued him with a needle.\n\n\"I know what I saw―I'm not crazy!\" he said, but the doctors only nodded and soon the man closed his eyes and some dribble came out of his mouth. \"Demons, two,\" he whispered. \"Searching...\"\n\nThe man was lifted from his bed and placed on a stretcher. Soon, he was being transported to the Watican castle's private medical facilities. The facilities were located in a building separate from the castle proper, enclosed with meticulously groomed hedges and a high fence on the perimeter.\n\nWhen Wantoro's entourage arrived with the drugged witness, Wantoro ushered them in through the large white doors with a steady hand. A petite doctor with a tidy bun and gravelly voice sucked in a large amount of air, as though she were witnessing a grave mistake.\n\n\"Yes?\" Wantoro turned to her impatiently.\n\nThe doctor took a step forward and lowered her voice. \"You're sure you want her next to Vinya Raaychila?\"\n\n\"Of course I'm sure! Someone, get her out of here.\" Wantoro waved his arm and a team of security officers fell on the petite doctor and led her out. The other doctors looked on, but quickly averted their gaze when Wantoro glanced their way. \"I'll have my staff take it from here,\" he said. The doctors filed out.\n\nBut Wantoro excused even his own staff, allowing only Mateo to enter the room. The door to Raaychila's private recovery chamber was locked behind him.\n\n\"So how long until he wakes?\" asked Mateo.\n\n\"No idea.\" The two men crossed their arms and frowned. Their witness was in a deep sleep.\n\nBut then they heard someone shift in bed and a mattress board creaked. Wantoro and Mateo's eyes rested momentarily on the witness, but he wasn't the one sitting up. In the next bed over, Raaychila began to rise like a phoenix, her fiery hair having lost none of its vibrance. Her face was ethereal and smooth from disuse, and she stared into another place. In an airy voice, she whispered, \"They're coming.\"\nChapter 14\n\nGulls and Driftwood\n\nMaren felt her ears pop. Then she heard the sound of waves crashing. She slowly opened her eyes and found herself sprawled out in the sand. To her left, she saw Jeremy hunched over a pile of twigs, picking one up and dropping it again back on the pile. \"Jeremy,\" she called weakly.\n\nJeremy walked over to her, his face full of shame. His hair was messed up, but not on purpose. \"I don't know, Maren,\" was all he said. He turned back to the twigs and continued to play with them.\n\nThis is good, thought Maren. I'm alive. She sat up and felt a dull pain in her leg. She held her breath, trying to pry her wrap-around gladiator shoe from off her foot. No blood, she released her breath. She stretched her foot out and decided she'd just landed on it funny, not that she knew how she got here. \"Frisky?\" Maren looked around her. \"Tina!\" She dusted some sand off of her and walked over to Tina. \"You're okay!\" She smiled and took Tina's hand, lifting her up.\n\nThey were on a savage-looking beach littered with gulls and driftwood. The sand was coarse and motley, and the water was baby blue and translucent. The color was deceptive, however, because not far from the shore they could see the dark shapes of hammerheads and barracudas gliding below the surface. Beyond the horizon was water and more water. Behind them was a jungle thick with vines and big-leaved vegetation and chattering birds. By the looks of it, they were alone.\n\n\"I don't know what's going on,\" said Tina as she stared out at the ocean.\n\n\"There's Mitch and Frisky over there.\" Maren ran over to Mitch and Frisky and clasped their hands in relief. \"We're okay, see? Jeremy must have―\" She cut herself short. Even though she wanted to celebrate, she knew for the rest of her friends, save Jeremy, mysteriously abandoning a plane hurtling towards the ocean at over five-hundred miles per hour was reason enough for anyone to have a breakdown, acid or not.\n\nAn hour later and Jeremy and Tina could interact with the rest of them.\n\nAfter the party had found a little cove fed by a stream of fresh water, Mitch sat down and took a notepad out of his pocket, which was stiff with dried sea water. \"Space pen,\" he said, producing a small black pen from his jeans. \"Built to withstand plane crashes.\" He smiled at Maren. \"Okay, so let's record everything we remember.\"\n\nFrisky chewed her fake nails off and then pulled her hair up into a messy bun. \"I still don't understand how we're still alive. If we were thrown from the plane―\"\n\n\"I grabbed a parachute,\" said Jeremy, lowering himself to the forest floor. \"Everyone had passed out except for me and Maren.\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" said Maren.\n\n\"Oh,\" said Frisky, narrowing her eyes. \"And you're just telling us this now?\"\n\n\"I was in shock, I guess.\"\n\nTina pulled her leopard print see-through shirt down over her knees and rocked back and forth on a stone beside the stream. \"If the parachutes landed here, then maybe we can get to the plane. I can radio for help.\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" said Jeremy dully. He had no idea where the plane landed; he only had the memory of pulling everyone through to the Haze and quickly bringing them back out on this island. \"We're lucky I found land.\"\n\nTina, Mitch, and Frisky glared at Jeremy. He had almost killed them.\n\n\"Jeremy,\" said Mitch shaking his head. \"I don't care how you got us here, though I'm glad you did. But what in God's name were you doing in the first place? You almost killed us all you loony bastard!\" He was standing now to his full height, his chest puffed out and his head held high.\n\nJeremy looked up at him and laughed. Maren grabbed him by the arm.\n\n\"Excuse me,\" said Maren, pulling Jeremy up. \"I'm just going to have a word with Jeremy.\"\n\nMitch was rocking back and forth on the balls of his sneakers like a boxer and Tina and Frisky were trying to pacify him.\n\nMaren and Jeremy moved deep into the jungle, and when finally Maren stopped walking, Jeremy froze and braced himself.\n\n\"Jeremy.\"\n\n\"Yes?\" he said, his eyes still closed, waiting for the slap.\n\n\"I'm not going to hurt you.\"\n\nJeremy stood still for a while and blinked. \"Really? But I want you to because I've earned it.\"\n\n\"That's true,\" Maren looked away. Something in the jungle had moved. \"But you don't learn by force. You're not that kind of a beast.\"\n\n\"But I am a beast?\"\n\n\"I don't want to fight anymore.\"\n\nJeremy wrapped his arms around Maren and rested his head on top of hers. \"I'm so sorry,\" he whispered, breathing in her hair.\n\n\"I know.\"\n\nBy the time Jeremy and Maren had rejoined the party, Tina was frantically running around on the beach. She was sliding around on the sand, occasionally lifting her arms to the bright morning sky and twirling.\n\n\"She's making a sign in the sand,\" said Mitch when Maren gave him a puzzled look.\n\n\"What about the radio on the plane?\" Jeremy grabbed Maren's hand and pulled it to his mouth. He kissed it and then intertwined his fingers with hers. Maren blushed and freed herself.\n\n\"Yes,\" began Mitch, slitting his eyes at Jeremy. \"Well Frisky's climbing that mountain over there to get a better look to see if she can spot the wreckage.\"\n\n\"And what are you doing?\" Jeremy kicked up a little sand with his foot.\n\n\"Waiting for you two to come back.\"\n\n\"You'd have been more useful dancing with Frisky, although you're not really dressed for the occasion,\" said Jeremy while gesturing towards Mitch's shoes.\n\nMitch crossed his arms. \"Maren, can I have a word with you?\"\n\nJeremy raised his eyebrows. \"Maren's confidence is quite in demand these days.\" He flashed his pearly whites and then skipped back into the jungle.\n\nMitch and Maren walked in the opposite direction into the foliage. \"Be honest with me, Maren,\" said Mitch, holding up a palm olive leaf so Maren could pass under. \"Who is this guy? Where'd he come from?\"\n\nMaren could see the sadness in his eyes and it broke her heart. \"I told you already, he's a childhood friend.\"\n\n\"And are you... with him?\"\n\n\"No.\" Maren could hear the words, but they sounded distant coming from her mouth. \"I don't know what he wants.\"\n\n\"Let's sit here.\" Mitch gestured to a fallen tree trunk covered in moss. \"I care a lot about you and I don't want to see you get hurt.\"\n\nMaren gave her head a little shake as she took a seat. \"What makes you say that?\"\n\n\"I just have a feeling that this guy has an agenda. If I weren't in the picture...\" Mitch's voice trailed off and he stopped abruptly. He turned to Maren and placed his hands on her shoulders. \"Listen to me, Maren. These last couple of months have been hell. This guy shows up, and I get the feeling that if he didn't see how much I cared about you, he'd have preyed on some other girl at the party. But no, he sees you as somebody he can compete for, and suddenly, you're the prize.\"\n\nMaren frowned. \"No, I don't think so Mitch, not anymore.\"\n\n\"He's a spoiled brat, you know? And I mean, we're all rich kids, but this guy has had everything handed to him on a silver platter, am I right? He thinks he's entitled to the royal treatment.\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Now he's acting like he owns you. He's disrespecting you, grabbing your hand in public, and you don't even know where you stand with him? It just makes me so frustrated.\"\n\nMaren's nose began to tingle. She realized she was holding her breath. \"Mitch, you know I've always valued your ability to read people, but this is... complicated.\"\n\n\"And he let you talk with me just now. He's got you on some emotional leash and it's sick, Maren. And he knows what he's doing, too. Skipping off into the jungle―what a smug jackass.\" Mitch stood up. \"And he just did acid! He just hijacked a private jet and flew off, it's amazing we're not all dead, and you're contemplating a relationship with him?\" Mitch massaged his temples.\n\n\"Please stop,\" Maren said. \"I appreciate your advice―as a friend.\"\nChapter 15\n\nFrisky\n\nFrisky sat on a cliff. She braided her mousy brown hair back, and then wiped her brow. It was a humid day for a hike on a deserted island that you magically appear on after \"Emo McSkinny Jeans\" drops acid and hijacks the private jet of a girl who thinks she's a cat in heat. Frisky gripped a stone and lifted herself up, catching her foot between two rocks. The island rose steeply in the center and Frisky was about halfway up the face of the big, rocky hill speckled with trees. Must have been a volcano, she thought to herself. A bright green lizard scuttled over her left hand and disappeared into a crevice. Frisky yelped and let go of the precipice, but stopped her fall with her right hand. Can't believe I'm climbing without gear. She pulled herself up. Almost to the top.\n\nBirds scattered from the tree tops and she heard grunting. She craned her neck and saw a pair of beady eyes staring back at her. It was a monkey with brown fur flecked with white, sitting on a tree branch, holding two coconuts. The monkey tilted its head to the side, shrieked, and then clapped the two coconuts together with a great thwack. Frisky winced at the sound and squeaked. She climbed faster.\n\nAfter twenty minutes, she pulled herself over the top of the cliff and scrambled to her feet. She looked below her. What she thought would be level ground actually descended to a pool of water. The water bubbled for a few seconds and Frisky squinted at the roiling surface and inched forward to get a closer look. Her foot caught on a vine and she fell forward, slipping down the muddy slope towards the pool a hundred feet below. She grabbed at rocks and small plants, but these only joined her in her descent.\n\nThe island spun in circles as she slid and rolled, landing after each revolution on the wrong body part, and she finally came to a stop on the bank of the pool, battered and bloodied. Suddenly the water erupted. Frisky screamed as a mass blacked out the sun and descended on her.\nChapter 16\n\nFair Game\n\nTina slapped a large green bug off her arm and grimaced. \"First Frisky, now Jeremy.\" The sun was beginning to set and rays of purple light lit up the surface of the ocean, framing it in a citrus-orange outline. The heat from the sand wavered in the cooling evening air.\n\nMitch watched as a fly buzzed obnoxiously over top of the stinky fish he'd caught. The fly was Jeremy, and the stinky fish was this situation. \"If we can't manage to get this fire going, we might as well eat these things.\" He poked at the large fish with a forked stick.\n\n\"The weird-looking fish or the fly? Ew, I'm not that desperate yet.\" Tina laughed.\n\n\"He should have been here by now,\" said Maren. Maren kicked some sand into the makeshift fire pit. \"He could get this fire started.\"\n\nMitch stood up and walked the perimeter of their campsite―a small clearing on the sand with a pile of dry sticks and tree branches at its center. \"Frisky!\" he called out.\n\n\"You could call for Jeremy too,\" said Maren under her breath.\n\n\"Yeah, I can't wait to see what kind of pointless danger he puts us into this time. Maybe he can set the island on fire so we have to go swim with the hammerheads. He has so many talents.\"\n\n\"Hey!\" Tina rose to her feet and smoothed her red mini skirt down. \"Let's not have at each other's throats, 'kay? I share some of the blame, too.\"\n\n\"Oh no! I can't face my own demons! Quick everyone, let's eat some acid and then fly this plane to a desert island! Oh good, we're still alive. Now I can write a really deep poem about this experience and sing it while I dance in my fabulous outfit.\" Mitch pranced around the beach. \"And did you notice my perfectly disheveled hair?\" Mitch pretended to toss his hair around as he did pirouettes.\n\n\"No, I'm just saying I feel really guilty right now,\" said Tina, rolling her eyes. \"I'm such an idiot and I feel terrible, and you're being so negative!\" She threw her hands up. \"This is the worst mistake of my life.\"\n\n\"So what you're saying is that the second you decided to venture off with Jeremy―\"\n\n\"Mitch!\" Maren frowned. \"We need to move forward.\"\n\nTina smiled. \"Mitch, I've never known you to be so jealous.\"\n\nMitch snorted.\n\n\"Seriously,\" Tina flipped her hair back. \"Maren, Jeremy's an amazing catch, I totally get why you would choose him over crew cut over here.\"\n\n\"Have the decency to at least whisper,\" grumbled Mitch.\n\nMaren blushed and leaned towards Tina. \"So, um... what happened on the plane if you don't mind my asking? Before the crash and all that.\" Maren shot a guilty look at Mitch.\n\n\"Between you and Jeremy?\" She leaned forward. She didn't care how pathetic she felt gossiping on a desert island while Frisky and Jeremy were lost. Mitch's analysis of Jeremy bothered her immensely; it was kind of spot on.\n\n\"So you are into him!\" Tina gave Maren a playful shove and then looked to the sky. \"Jeremy, wow. I wished you'd told me you were into him when I first asked you. Not that that would have stopped me―just kidding! He's so gorgeous, Maren. I tried to seduce him.\" Tina's face went red all over and she giggled. \"He's intoxicating, I don't know. I've never met anyone like him. I tried to kiss him but he turned away. He told me he wanted to escape reality, so I gave him acid. Oh, I was so stupid.\" Tina shook her head. \"He just kept stringing me along; I didn't know where it was going. He promised me he'd sleep with me.\"\n\n\"What?\" Maren sprang up.\n\n\"No, only that he'd sleep on the plane! He was so mysterious, Maren. But I knew he was thinking about you.\" Tina smiled, suppressing a laugh. \"What is it with him, anyway? He sort of has this magnetic thing going on. I've only known him for a day and feel like I could write a book listing his faults, but to be near him for a second... it just chases all of that away.\" Tina now spoke freely because Mitch was busy carrying manly amounts of driftwood to a pile in case someone could get the fire started.\n\nMaren could feel her cheeks burn as she nodded. Cajjez Jeremy Chikalto. How many young girls had fantasized about him? And why shouldn't she? Maren brushed her fingers across her lips. She felt changed, liberated, and carnal.\n\n\"Jeremy!\" squealed Tina.\n\nJeremy had appeared at the edge of the jungle, bearing gifts. He waved with his free hand and made his way across the sand.\n\nMaren watched as he unzipped his backpack and pulled out water bottles, crackers, cheese, and grapes. Then he pulled out two Cornish game hens, still wrapped in their grocery store packages. He looked up at Maren, beaming.\n\n\"Thank you, Jeremy,\" she said, reaching for the crackers, keeping her eyes on him. She stuffed a few in her mouth and then made for the cheese.\n\nMitch grabbed a water bottle and eyed Jeremy suspiciously. \"How did you get this? All this food is probably expired and rife with parasites.\"\n\nJeremy laughed.\n\n\"Yeah, good joke. Dysentery is hilarious.\"\n\n\"Relax, Mitch,\" said Maren.\n\n\"We're on a resort.\" Jeremy shook his head. \"And before I forget....\" He pulled out toothpaste and toothbrushes and set them on a rock beside the fire logs. Next, he held his hand over the wood. Jeremy allowed a blue current to char the wood and then blew on it. Soon, a fire crackled to life.\n\n\"You got it so fast!\" said Tina, getting to her feet to inspect the fire.\n\n\"Matches from the resort.\" Jeremy winked at Mitch before sitting down to unwrap the game hens.\n\n\"Okay, well, that's great news! But Jeremy, I'd like to talk to you over here for a second.\" Maren motioned for Jeremy and he abandoned the hens and followed her. Tina, meanwhile, had descended on the feast like a starved dog, and Mitch reluctantly joined her.\n\nMaren led Jeremy, cradling a bunch of grapes in his hand, back into the jungle. The two walked for a time in pregnant silence, passing under a canopy of lush vegetation and into a hidden hollow. The sunset was dimming and moonlight filtered through in rays, streaking their faces with shades of blue.\n\n\"I went back to New York through the Haze,\" Jeremy said before she asked. \"I'll bring everyone home real soon. I just had to figure out how best to get there. I don't know if I'm familiar enough with Tina's house to―\" Jeremy stopped and looked down at Maren. \"Is something wrong?\"\n\n\"Frisky's missing.\" Maren affectionately tugged on his shirt collar. \"After we eat, we need to find her.\"\n\n\"Of course,\" said Jeremy, furrowing his brow.\n\n\"And another thing?\" Maren rested her hands on his chest and took a deep breath.\n\n\"Yes?\"\n\nA vine from overhead fell to the jungle floor and Maren had to do a double-take to make sure it wasn't a snake. She felt uneasy and groped for words, suddenly conscious of the electricity that seemed to pulsate off his body. She looked up at his face and could see his moist lips, the white teeth behind, the dimples. He must have sensed her hesitation because he placed a firm hand under her chin and lifted it, bending down now for a kiss. Their lips met and Maren felt her body flutter. She felt pleasure, the yearning, exploding through her limbs. She found herself unbuttoning his shirt, and he slid it off and gripped her by the arms.\n\n\"Maren?\" he said, blowing lightly on her neck. A tingling sensation traveled up to her ear and she shivered. \"I'm getting pretty excited here. How far were you planning to go?\"\n\n\"Oh,\" Maren dropped his shirt which she had been holding in her hand, and stood there, stupefied. He popped a grape into her mouth. \"You don't have to stop,\" he said, guiding her hand across his abdomen, pulling her closer to him with his other.\n\n\"No! I'm sorry,\" Maren pulled away from him and stooped to the ground.\n\nJeremy joined her and wrapped his arms around her. \"It's okay. Whatever you want, you just tell me.\"\n\nMaren ran her fingers through her hair and laughed. \"I am so sorry.\" She shook her head.\n\n\"No need to apologize, I like where this is heading.\"\n\nA frog began to croak in the silence that passed. It was a deep, hoarse song, drawn out with a sharp blip at the end. \"I just want to know what's going on with us,\" she said in a hushed voice.\n\n\"Well,\" Jeremy ran his hand over her leg, \"you know that I adore you. I sense you have feelings for me, so...\"\n\n\"So?\"\n\n\"Can we keep doing this?\"\n\nThe words caught her off-guard and she had to wait a few seconds to grasp their meaning. \"Doing what?'\"\n\n\"Ah,\" he said, pulling her close. \"I mean, well,\" he was sputtering now and fidgeting. \"I know that I'd love to be with you and if you'd... be with me? That would be the next step.\" He bit his lip and waited.\n\nMaren could see the embarrassment flush his cheeks, vulnerability and openness in his wide eyes. He was more lovely than she'd ever seen him. \"I'd really like that.\" Maren smiled and kissed him on the cheek before leading him out of the canopy.\n\nBack at the campsite, Tina and Mitch were sliding the cooked game hen from off their sticks and cooling the juicy meat on large palm leaves. Mitch divided the meat into five small piles. He hoped they'd find Frisky. When they'd all finished eating and felt rehydrated, Mitch led the expedition, followed by Tina and Jeremy and Maren at the rear.\n\n\"Hey, Jeremy? Just straight back this way? Remember how you're the only one who knows where we're going?\" yelled Mitch from the front, weaving in between the thick green leaves and stringed vines. The hum of insects nearly drowned him out.\n\n\"Yeah, the resort's somewhere on the other side. But let's keep an eye out for Frisky,\" Jeremy called back.\n\nThe party continued to call for Frisky as they climbed fallen tree limbs and stepped around mud puddles. At last they came to the face of the mountain that rose in the island's center.\n\n\"She climbed up here,\" said Tina sadly.\n\n\"Ssh!\" said Mitch. He pulled himself up over the first rock. \"Do you hear that?\"\n\nJeremy, Maren, and Tina stopped to listen.\n\nSilence.\n\n\"Maybe it was a bird?\" offered Maren.\n\nA small rock came tumbling down the side of the mountain. Everyone froze, watching the rock intently as it gathered more pebbles and debris in its descent.\n\nThen, a weak moan came from over the ledge about twenty feet above Mitch.\n\n\"That's her! Frisky!\" called Mitch as he clambered up the rocks.\n\nTina and Maren cupped their hands over their mouths and began to shout up to Frisky. Mitch was making slow progress.\n\n\"Okay,\" Jeremy looked around him. No one was paying any attention to him. \"Let me just... handle this.\" He slowed his breathing down. If something were to happen to Frisky, it would be on his conscience. He couldn't stand around and wait. Jeremy crept away from the group, circling around the mountain a bit, out of sight. He'd attempt to weave in and out of the Haze, like in his dream. He'd fly to her. Jeremy closed his eyes and began his ascent. He pulled into the Haze, and quickly jumped out. He was about ten feet in the air. Now he was free falling. And in the Haze again. He tried to weave back out and found that he couldn't. Must be rock, he thought, and then moved up. The next few minutes were tricky. At last, he landed on a ledge five feet above Frisky, and thirty feet away from her. As he walked closer along the ledge, he could see she was covered from head to toe in mud. And something else. Blood. Jeremy cursed. He knelt down to lift her up; her face was ashen and bruised. She had lost a lot of blood and was in shock. He looked over the side of the rock ledge and saw a confused Mitch, ten feet below. \"She's hurt,\" said Jeremy. \"I'll um, I've gotta go. Be back soon.\" And with that, he ran to the far side of the ledge, away from Mitch's probing eyes, and disappeared back into the Haze.\n\n\"He's got her!\" Mitch called out. \"Frisky! What happened to her?!\" Mitch lifted himself up. \"Hey, Jeremy!\" No answer.\n\n\"What's going on up there?\" yelled Tina.\n\n\"She's hurt! Badly. Hey Jeremy!\"\n\nMitch walked along the side of the mountain, puzzled. But Jeremy was gone.\n\nMitch made his way back down and related everything he saw. Maren knew that Jeremy must have taken Frisky back to New York through the Haze. \"Maybe Jeremy is rushing her back to the resort for medical treatment\" she offered.\n\nMitch didn't buy it. \"That bastard! You should have seen the look in his eyes. It was guilt. He did something. Those two were the only ones missing; something's happened.\"\n\n\"No Mitch,\" said Maren. \"He feels guilty because he brought us here in the first place, and no other reason.\"\n\n\"He's not violent or unstable?\" Mitch stared at Maren, daring her to deny it.\n\n\"It was the acid,\" mumbled Tina.\n\n\"Relax, he'll be back.\"\n\n\"I'm finding this resort.\" Mitch climbed down the rocks and took off in the jungle. Maren and Tina chased after him.\n\nHours passed and there was still no sign of a resort, Jeremy, or Frisky. It was now the dead of night and Maren convinced everyone that they should rest and then head back to the mountain, since that was where Jeremy might go to look for them.\n\n\"Why not just keep looking for the resort?\" protested Mitch. But Tina was too frightened, and Maren, too stubborn, so at last they fell asleep on a pile of palm leaves beneath a large tree.\n\n\"Frisky! Jeremy!\" yelled Tina. The next morning brought on a futile search. Their thirst was fierce under the tropical sun. Mitch was able to bring down some coconuts from the trees and smash them open on rocks. Maren, Tina, and Mitch greedily drank the sweet milk and resumed their walk back to the mountainside.\n\n\"Okay,\" said Mitch slowly, as he took his sneakers off. \"We're here now, Maren. You were always so reasonable, but I'm beginning to have my doubts.\"\n\nTina took her sheer leopard print shirt off and lay out on a rock in her red bra and mini skirt. She had nothing to lose by getting a free tan. \"What did Jeremy tell you, Maren?\"\n\nSo they knew they weren't privy to something. Maren suspected they'd want to search for the resort again soon. If Jeremy didn't arrive in the next hour, they'd rebel against her direction. \"Jeremy knows this place really well,\" she found herself saying.\n\n\"Oh yeah?\" Tina sat up and squinted down at Maren. \"What's that supposed to mean?\"\n\n\"I mean,\" Maren stammered, lost for words. \"I just have a lot of faith in Jeremy. You should, too. You know how cautious I am. I think we'll be okay if we just wait here a little longer.\" These words, at least, were sincere.\n\n\"Mitch is right, Maren. You're cracking up. We should find the resort, get off this island.\" Tina chewed the side of her mouth. \"You're protecting him, which means you know the full story and we don't.\"\n\n\"Huh?\" Maren's pulse quickened. \"Protecting Jeremy?\"\n\n\"You're afraid my parents will turn him in to the police. He stole my dad's jet and kidnapped us.\"\n\n\"And you're afraid about what he did to Frisky,\" said Mitch.\n\n\"He didn't do anything to Frisky except save her!\"\n\n\"He left without a trail. Why would he do that unless he has something to hide?\"\n\nMaren threw her hands up in the air and sulked off to the edge of the jungle, where the foliage started growing thick again beyond the mountain. A monkey screeched down at her and threw something out of its tree. Maren jumped and ran back to the rocks. \"Okay, there is no resort,\" she said between breaths.\nChapter 17\n\nIdentify Yourself\n\nA crowd of late-night, New York theatre-goers filed out of a show towards the subway station, narrowly missing the homeless man passed out at the bottom of the steps. The mass exit provided the patrons a feeling of security they rarely enjoyed on the streets at night. A woman in a large fur coat gripped the arm of a taller, more masculine woman, as they discussed in hushed voices the performance of Dr. Everett Scott and the need for theater to employ actual handicap people for handicap roles. Jeremy appeared on the sidewalk out of thin air, holding a bloody, lifeless girl in his arms. Then a cat materialized next to him. The cat placed a paw on Frisky and said, \"One third,\" before disappearing back into the crisp night air.\n\nThe woman in the fur coat screamed and a wide circle opened up in the crowd.\n\n\"I need some help!\" called Jeremy. He leaned across Frisky and pressed his mouth to hers in an attempt to resuscitate her. He pushed air in and pumped on her chest. At last, a police officer appeared and corralled off the crowd. \"What happened?\" he barked.\n\nJeremy only shook his head. Ambulance workers moved in and Jeremy attempted to step back into the crowd. \"We're going to need to ask you some questions,\" said the officer, holding a hand up to Jeremy.\n\n\"She couldn't breathe.\"\n\n\"He appeared out of nowhere!\" called a voice from the crowd. \"There was a cat!\"\n\n\"I'm going to have to ask you to come with me, sir.\"\n\nJeremy bit down on his finger nails and looked away. \"I don't know,\" he said dreamily.\n\n\"Sir.\"\n\nAn ambulance worker appeared at the officer's side. \"She's lost a lot of blood. Multiple broken bones, probably internal bleeding. She has burns, too. There was a struggle.\"\n\nJeremy turned to run into the crowd when someone bear hugged him from behind.\n\n\"I'm going to need some back up,\" said the officer into his radio. \"You have the right to remain silent, anything you do or say can be used against you in the court of law.\"\n\nThe officer continued to Mirandize Jeremy as he twisted his arms behind him and slapped on the cuffs. The officer kicked the inside of his knee and Jeremy fell forward against the hood of the police car. He was shoved into the back seat.\n\nJeremy remained silent during the ride to the station. He looked out the window and watched the city lights whir by. I'll just wait until these cuffs are off, then I'll go back, he thought to himself. All that mattered was that Frisky receive medical attention.\n\n\"What's your name?\" asked the officer from the front of the car. \"Got a name?\"\n\nJeremy didn't answer. Frisky must have fallen off the rocks. The ambulance worker had said she had burns. Why would she have burns? Jeremy considered Frisky, her plain look and skittish demeanor. She was like some warped version of the old Maren, cute but pretty unremarkable. Jeremy felt guilty. He had made no effort to get to know Frisky, Maren's trusted friend. Now she was just a castaway, a side character to his life's paranormal freak show. Frisky.\n\nJeremy arrived at the police station and was processed before being led to a holding cell. John Doe: no identification, no personal property.\nChapter 18\n\nLeviathan\n\nMaren slumped herself against a stone. It felt cool and slick. The dankness of the island was really starting to bother her and she wished she had a hair band.\n\nTina and Mitch rose from a huddle they had formed and walked over to Maren. Mitch nodded at Tina, who knelt down and forced a smile. The morning sun was finally poking its way up over the horizon after a sleepless night.\n\n\"Maren, does Jeremy know where the plane fell?\"\n\n\"I don't know.\" Maren sifted the sand between her fingers and then caressed a small orange shell.\n\n\"Okay, well I don't know what Jeremy's said to you, and I know he's a sweet talker, but we're in serious trouble.\"\n\nMaren took in a deep breath. The thick air clung to her lungs. \"It's complicated.\" She set the small shell back on the sand and swept the sand over it.\n\nMitch, who had been pacing back and forth, now crouched beside Tina, his brows low, jaw set. \"He knows where the plane is, and you and him have some deal worked out where he'll ration the supplies for us until the situation gets desperate. Then it's every man for himself. Only you and him mean to be the last ones standing.\"\n\n\"Mitch!\" Maren gasped. \"How could you think that!\"\n\nTina and Mitch stood up and turned their backs to Maren, regrouping. Maren laid her head in her hands. \"Keep it together,\" she whispered. Jeremy would return soon enough and take everyone back to New York. Only, he had been gone for a while. And what happened to Frisky! A sob caught in Maren's throat. But she knew she couldn't cry, not while the sanity of the group rested on the validity of her meager excuses. And she'd already admitted the island wasn't a resort. Perhaps things were already unwinding, spiraling out of control. \"Jeremy!\" she called out, rising to her feet. She walked into the thicket and Mitch and Tina gave each other a look, then followed.\n\nMaren stuck her foot in the rock bed, and began to climb the mountain. Mitch and Tina watched her suspiciously from below. Still, she kept climbing, finding the nooks and crannies with her slender hands and feet. When she'd made it up ten feet, she stopped to catch her breath and turned to the jungle. A monkey looked out across from her, two coconuts in its outstretched hands. It slammed them together and Maren shuddered. She climbed faster. Now she was twenty feet up, thirty feet up.\n\n\"Hey!\" called Tina. She and Mitch started to climb up after her.\n\nAt the top, about a hundred feet up, Maren saw now how the rocky terrain leveled off, then descended into a pool at the mountain's center. She looked down. It was a steep, slippery drop. At last, Tina and Mitch had caught up to her. They too looked down.\n\n\"Frisky was covered in mud, maybe she slipped from here,\" said Mitch, eyeing the strange tracks in the mud.\n\nMaren shook off the thought of Frisky falling down the side of the mountain and looked out across the jungle. She could see now that they were on a small circular island, several miles long from one end to the other. The pool of green water was directly in the center, as though it were intentional. \"Jeremy!\" she called out.\n\nMitch and Tina began to call too.\n\nThen they heard a huge splash.\n\nMaren twisted around and saw ripples spread out across the pool. The pool became still again. \"Did you hear that?\" Maren looked at Mitch and Tina, both standing stupefied on the rock.\n\n\"Is there a shark in there? That was pretty big.\"\n\n\"Aren't there crocodiles this far south? We're somewhere in the Bermuda Triangle—on some island.\" Tina cleared a spot on the tan rock and sat down, her eyes still on the pool.\n\nAnother great splash sent a spurt of water high into the air.\n\nMaren jumped back. \"That was way bigger than a crocodile.\"\n\n\"It looked like a fin,\" said Mitch, now squinting in the morning sun. Slowly, a massive dark shape ascended the depths of the water. A cloud passed from overhead as the morning sun hit the pool at an angle, and specks of iridescent green scales glimmered on the dark shape in the water. Something as large as a submarine was fast surfacing. The shape was morphing horizontally, and tips of what looked like wings crested on either side of the pool.\n\nTina screamed and Mitch let out something of a groan, and Maren immediately turned and ran, having seen all she needed to see. \"Move, now!\" The pool was sloshing wildly.\n\nAll three scrambled down the side of the mountain, with Maren in the lead. When they were about twenty feet from the bottom, Mitch went to stick his sneaker in a crevice, but it was too bulbous and couldn't fit. He slipped and fell onto Tina, who fell onto Maren, and they landed with three thuds on a large slab of stone below. Maren got up. She felt a sharp stabbing pain in her collar bone that traveled up through her shoulder, and winced. She and Tina dragged an unconscious Mitch around the side of the mountain they had not yet seen. As they made their way around, they came to the mouth of a cave carved out of the mountain. They crawled in and huddled against the rock wall. The cave continued into darkness with no visible end.\n\n\"What was that!?\" Tina's body was shaking all over. She looked down and saw blood coming out from a gash above her knee.\n\n\"Quiet!\" Maren watched the area outside of the cave. Birds were fluttering about above the trees.\n\nMaren rested Mitch's head in her lap and smacked at his face. \"Get up, Mitch. You have to wake up.\"\n\nMitch strained to open his eyes. \"My head,\" he moaned.\n\n\"I think you have a concussion. Just try to stay awake.\" Maren gave him a slight shake and watched the area outside of the cave in suspense. After what felt like an eternity, she relaxed her tense muscles. \"I think it went away.\"\n\n\"Let's get out of here!\" said Tina, ready to spring.\n\n\"Wait!\" Maren poked her head out from the cave. \"Did you hear that?\"\n\n\"Please just let it be gone,\" Tina squeezed her eyes shut.\n\n\"It's Jeremy!\" Maren could hear his voice calling out to her. He was close.\n\nMitch's eyes opened wide and he sat bolt upright and yanked Maren backwards. \"Don't risk going out there!\"\n\n\"I have to!\" Maren wriggled free from Mitch and limped out of the cave opening. Tina had started sobbing loudly and Mitch fell on her, covering her mouth with his hand.\n\n\"Jeremy!\" said Maren in a low whisper. \"Jeremy, psst! Over here!\"\n\nJeremy was only ten feet below her and a little off to the right. \"What's going on?\" he called up. \"You look scratched up.\"\n\n\"Ssh!\" Maren pointed above her and spun her finger around. Then she waved him over to the cave.\n\nJeremy tilted his head up and shielded his brow with his hand. \"What?\"\n\nShe waved him in more frantically.\n\nWhen Jeremy came to the entrance, she ran back into the cave and he followed. \"What's going on?\" asked Jeremy.\n\n\"Take us out of here.\"\n\n\"Maren, is everyone okay?\"\n\n\"Now!\" Maren pulled him to the back of the cave where Tina and Mitch huddled together.\n\n\"You have blood on you—what's happened?\"\n\n\"There's some sort of monster here—I'll explain later!\" Maren waved her arms about.\n\n\"Okay,\" said Jeremy slowly, and they moved close to Tina and Mitch. Jeremy wrapped his arms around the three of him, and Mitch eyed him with disgust. And then Jeremy crossed over into the Haze, and was surrounded by three limp bodies. The bodies peacefully bobbed up and down on light purple Haze clouds, but Jeremy knew better. They were dying. He hooked his arm around Mitch's and his other around Maren and Tina, and was about to begin his journey through the Haze, when he looked up and saw Lyrna racing towards him, hissing.\n\n\"Out!\" she yelled.\n\n\"What? Lyrna help me get them to New York, I have to hurry!\"\n\nLyrna viciously swiped at him.\n\nAnd then he knew. Far behind Lyrna, weaving in and out of the folds in space, loomed scores of demons. There were dark, smoky creatures with red glowing eyes and skeletal hands. Others were dense clouds of red speckled with black scales and horns. Jeremy gasped and kicked back out of the Haze, and they landed back in the cave. Maren, Mitch, and Tina, were quietly moaning while they came to. Jeremy created an orb of blue light into his palm and held it up. He cursed and paced back and forth with the orb while Maren sat up.\n\n\"Jeremy, take us back,\" Maren rubbed her head. \"We have to get out—\"\n\n\"I haven't made this clear to you! There were demons on Watico. And just now I saw them—the Haze is infested with demons, Maren! They're looking for me!\" Jeremy shot a blue spark up at the ceiling of the cave. Pieces of rock rained down.\n\n\"Jeremy, idiot!\" Maren slapped at his legs and he stumbled back. \"You'll kill us!\"\n\n\"What is that?\" Mitch had become conscious and was facing the wall. \"Why is there...?\" He turned to Jeremy and saw the blue light stretch up from his palm. He scrambled to his feet and held his hands up. \"How the hell are you doing that?\"\n\n\"Jeremy, get us out of here! There's a monster outside!\" said Maren.\n\n\"We have to figure something else out.\" Jeremy moved closer to the rock wall where Mitch had landed. \"Hey, look at this.\" He held his blue light up to the wall. Writing was etched into it:\n\nLeviathan est God's. Leviathan est Diabolus. Cain's latebras est notus.\n\nMaren inched her way closer. She ran her fingers along the wall. \"Latin. Leviathan is God's. Leviathan is Satan's. Cain's hideout is known?\" She glanced at Jeremy. \"Isn't that... Mantel?\"\n\nA deafening shriek from outside the cave pierced their conversation, and they heard a flapping sound like huge sails catching a wind. As they strained to see out the cave's entrance, a sudden cone of flame immolated a nearby tree, reducing it to ash in seconds. Then there was a low roar, and the rock shook. Leviathan landed near the cave's entrance, kicking up a wave of dirt and stones, smashing nearby trees. The dragon was fifty feet long from head to tail, an intricate pattern of green scales encasing its serpent-like body. Its wings were leathery and transparent, the veins visible in the sun. Massive talons dug into the ground. Maren locked eyes with the creature, which seemed to ignore the darkness of the cave. Its head was crocodilian and crowned with horns, but the eyes revealed unmistakable intelligence.\n\n\"Quisnam dico mihi?\" Its voice rumbled through the island, vibrating the stone walls.\n\n\"Who calls me,\" Maren whispered.\n\n\"Porta dormit.\"\n\n\"The gate sleeps.\" Maren turned to Jeremy and shook her head. \"Please take us out of here!\"\n\n\"Incredible.\" Jeremy ran his fingers through his hair, mesmerized.\n\n\"It's coming this way!\" yelled Tina. Leviathan coiled like a cat preparing to pounce.\n\n\"In here!\" Mitch had found a small tunnel to a cavern below. They ran towards the back of the cave. Leviathan leapt and landed in the entrance of the cave, and it folded its wings as it struggled to walk closer. The cave was too narrow, and Leviathan snarled as it compressed itself. Tina and Maren quickly squeezed through the tunnel and slid down. Mitch stepped aside. \"You next,\" he called to Jeremy.\n\nJeremy looked down. He could just fit; Mitch was too wide. \"But―\"\n\n\"Just go!\"\n\nLeviathan roared and black smoke polluted the cave. Jeremy groped in front of him for Mitch, but couldn't make contact. He jumped in the tunnel and squirmed his way down, pushing against the rock in his descent. Mitch was lost in the black. He could hear him gagging. There was a flash of light, an incredible wave of heat, and then silence.\n\nJeremy landed at the bottom of the passageway, and rolled to distribute the impact, but the rock was unforgiving. His face was covered in soot, possibly Mitch's ashes. He spit and smacked at his face and hair. Maren was staring at him. Her mouth was open.\n\n\"Mitch?\" she managed.\n\nTina cupped her hand over her mouth. \"No.\"\n\nJeremy heard a crash above him. The cavern shook. Sunlight poured in through the hole that Jeremy, Maren, and Tina had just entered. Now it was eclipsed by something black. Leviathan snorted and pressed its nostril against the opening. Jeremy, Maren, and Tina ran to the back of the cavern. A phosphorescent moss growing on the walls shed a dim light, revealing stalactites and busy centipedes, but there was no exit.\n\n\"Jeremy, take us to the Haze!\"\n\nJeremy gripped the back of the cave wall and slipped into the Haze. A cloud of pink swirled around him as a deer galloped past. It pulled along an old man with milky eyes, who was pointing behind Jeremy. Jeremy shuddered. He followed the man's finger and saw a regiment of demons flying towards him in the distance in tight formation. It wasn't safe here either. Jeremy kicked back and fell on the cavern floor. Smoke was already pouring in. Jeremy turned to Maren. \"You need to get out!\" Jeremy cupped his hands and pooled energy into a ball, knowing it needed to be dense enough to bother a reptile the size of a whale. I can kill it, he thought. Just as flames began spilling out of the tunnel, he unleashed the orb, and guided it up the tunnel, forcing it through the fire. When it was inside the creature's nasal cavity, he detonated it. Leviathan shrieked and stumbled back, and light flooded the cavern.\n\nJeremy jumped into the tunnel, trying to ignore the incredibly hot rock. He tried to climb using just his feet, but the rubber soles on his shoes were melting at an alarming rate. Jeremy closed his eyes and faced both his palms at forty-five degree angles towards the rock. Gathering as much energy as he could muster, he blasted against the tunnel, rocketing upwards. As he shot into the upper level, he was greeted by a wall of fire.\n\nJust as he began to feel his eyebrows singe, he slipped into the Haze, keeping enough awareness on the other side to feel when the fire subsided. As the demons closed in on him, he again crossed the threshold, reappearing ten feet away from the blast. Jeremy could sense that the beast's energies momentarily entered their nadir. He admired the damage his orb had done from inside the beast's nose; much of the long left nostril was missing and he could see the soft, inner tissue. The beast was snorting blood. He had opened a window to the brain. He also saw the mark of a previous battle: against the backdrop of the sun, Leviathan's silhouette revealed that a horn was missing, cut from the left side of the crown. As he was thinking these triumphant thoughts, he entered into a coughing fit. Even if I kill it, the smoke might kill me shortly after.\n\nJeremy risked slipping back into the Haze for a few seconds to bypass the dragon plugging up the cave's exit. When he materialized in the other plane, he was surrounded by a snarling circle of demons, and an arm's length from capture. He thought better of his strategy, and hastily slipped back to Earth, miscalculating his entrance and popping out right behind Leviathan. Right then, he coughed, and the creature whipped its massive tail and sliced his thigh with a cruel barb, cutting down to the bone. Blood gushed from the wound. The pain was unbearable and Jeremy blacked out.\n\nHe came to as a claw the size of a grand piano was descending on him, and rolled to the left in the nick of time as the claw tore the ground. He stumbled to his feet, and as Leviathan turned to face him, Jeremy could smell the rancid breath of death.\n\nThen the air twitched and a great light flooded the sky, brighter than the sun. A figure stepped forth from behind the air, and Leviathan shrieked. The figure hovered in the sky, shimmering with light, and the air grew thick with static. Jeremy and Leviathan stood awestruck. The figure lifted its hand up and unleashed a beam of light which divided into a million threads with the symmetry of a snowflake. The strands wove together while they expanded, and then contracted precisely around Leviathan, passing through all else with no friction. The sea dragon leapt and sputtered a few flames at the net which closed around him in mid jump, and then hurled its bundle across the sky and into the ocean on the far side of the island, causing the waters to surge towards the beach. The net emerged seconds later from the sea and disintegrated into the sky.\n\nThe mysterious man, shining like the dawn, floated down to the rock where Jeremy was crouching, landing softly in front of him. Jeremy threw his hand up to shield his face, and the light dimmed to a soft glow. There before him was a young man with pale skin, blonde curly hair, and thick parted lips. His eyes were wide and his nose had a small twist at the center. His nostrils flared and the air around him was cleansed of the smoke, dust, and heavy energy of the battle. Jeremy was humiliated by the purity of this being, and the horrible wound on his leg began to tingle and heal right before his eyes.\n\nJeremy heard soft footsteps from the cave's entrance, and turned to see Maren cautiously leaving the cave, soot on her face streaked with tears. When she saw Jeremy, she ran to him and they embraced. Then they turned to the luminous stranger.\n\n\"I am the angel Gabriel,\" he announced in a tone as clear as a bell. He studied Maren. \"You are highly favored.\" Time was elongated, and Jeremy and Maren were transfixed by the holy face. The angel paused and his eyes shone, glazed with light. As he turned to Jeremy, his lips pressed together subtly and his brow lowered.\n\n\"The beast thrives on pride and envy. Whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be exalted. Know your place, Apollyon. When you make the two into one, the inner like the outer, the outer like the inner, the upper like the lower, the lower like the upper, and male and female into child, then you will enter the Kingdom.\" Gabriel held his hand out and Jeremy took it lightly in his own, and as their skin met Jeremy felt all his fear and anger dissipate, and he dwelled in peace. Jeremy's soul relaxed into realms deeper than the Haze, beyond time, and he touched something that was everything, and saw that all phenomena were sacraments, were cognitions of the One. Then Gabriel disappeared, and Jeremy wept and longed to feel the One, but It was shrouded now.\n\nHe felt Maren squeeze his arm, but he pushed her back and entered the Haze. \"Wait!\" he cried. But the angel Gabriel wasn't there. Lyrna, three feet away, growled and leapt onto him. He fell back on the sand of the island.\nChapter 19\n\nWhirlpool\n\nAs the air and waters settled, the adrenaline in Jeremy's body faded. The noon sun dried up the shadows, but the smell of burnt matter lingered. Jeremy and Maren sat on a rock in silence. Lyrna popped into visibility. She bounced from paw to paw. Her gray fur puffed out at all angles and she looked like a giant dust bunny. \"Demons in Haze!\"\n\nJeremy only shook his head in wonderment. \"Lyrna, did you see that angel?\"\n\n\"Demons!\" she said, leaping towards him and swatting his face with her paw.\n\n\"Shut. Up.\" Tina emerged from behind a boulder, her arms crossed. \"You two need to be straight with me. Did I just die and go to adorable heaven, or did that cat just talk? And I'm pretty sure there was just a flying man in the sky, and that Jeremy was shooting lightning at a dragon-monster.\"\n\nMaren looked up at Jeremy. He shrugged.\n\n\"I'll tell you what we know,\" began Maren as Tina cautiously stroked Lyrna. And Maren poured her and Jeremy's story out, from her being an alien from the Farmoore Galaxy, to Jeremy's traveling behind the air. She spoke of Ms. Fritz's kidnapping and the subsequent nightmare that was Mantel's Maze, and lastly of the demons.\n\nJeremy claimed were after him. She even mentioned his being Apollyon. Tina quietly listened, and her face betrayed feelings of disgust, confusion, disbelief, and admiration with each new piece of information.\n\n\"Unbelievable,\" whispered Tina. \"This is like one of those movies little geek boys drool over.\" She gave Lyrna a gentle pet. \"And you're an angel―a naughty angel.\" She made a playful cat paw at him. \"I knew there was something special about you!\"\n\n\"I guess this has all been preordained.\" Jeremy took a seat beside Tina and rubbed sand between his hands. \"I can't escape my fate. I'm sorry I've brought everyone here.\"\n\n\"You couldn't have known that you'd end up on Leviathan Island,\" offered Maren. \"In the Old Testament Leviathan is described as a fire-breathing sea monster with strong scales incapable of being penetrated by swords.\" She closed her eyes. \"Job says, 'Nothing on earth is his equal―a creature without fear. He looks down on all that are haughty; he is king over all that are proud.' I wonder how that applies to you,\" Maren said deadpan.\n\nTina wriggled uncomfortably. \"In demonology, Leviathan is one of the seven princes of Hell. He's also the um, gatekeeper.\"\n\nJeremy and Maren turned to her in disbelief.\n\n\"I got into demonology for a short while,\" explained Tina. \"There was a hot guy, black leather, he was a drummer in a band....\" Her voice trailed off.\n\nIt didn't matter to Maren how Tina had acquired an interest in demonology, but she knew this much: Tina had just become valuable.\n\nThey scaled the cliff again and peered down at the pool, now eerily calm. The center of the pool gave a slight ripple and Jeremy motioned for everyone to take cover. He crept forward and created a ball of light in his palm. He took a deep breath and then directed the orb straight into the center of the pool. The blue ball sparked and was immediately absorbed. He did it again, this time creating a larger orb.\n\n\"Jeremy!\" Maren yelled up to him. \"Stop! You want Leviathan to come for revenge? I thought you were just going to have a look around!\"\n\nJeremy said, \"No,\" under his breath, but still kept shooting energy into the pool.\n\n\"So, you want to disturb the gates of Hell?\" said Tina, attempting to throw a stone at him. It only traveled half-way and then fell back down, meeting the defenses Jeremy now maintained unconsciously.\n\nJeremy laughed. \"Leviathan wasn't guarding the gates of Hell. On the wall in the cave, Maren read: 'Leviathan is God's. Leviathan is Satan's. Cain's hideout is known.' Leviathan was guarding an entrance to Mantel's Maze.\"\n\nMaren pulled at her hair and screamed. \"Jeremy, are you mad? Let's leave before we get killed.\"\n\n\"This island was a volcano. Gabriel told me to know my place. I think I need to return to Mantel's Maze. My fate is tied to Cain.\"\n\n\"Jeremy, we all need to go home. You can risk taking us through the Haze. We'll drop Tina off in New York and go back to our families in the Farmoore Galaxy.\" Maren stood beside him. \"Don't make a hasty assumption that you know what this all means. We should do more research, think it over.\"\n\nJeremy shook his head. \"No, Maren. It's not that simple. I've been in the Haze enough in the past few days to know that something terrible is going to happen if I go in there.\" He gripped her by the shoulders. \"Don't you remember what the ghosts said in Mantel's Maze? To die a natural death is better than to be consumed by a demon. When a demon eats you, you go straight to Hell. If we die here, we at least have a 50/50.\"\n\nMaren looked into his eyes. \"But...\" She looked back over the edge and down at Tina, who had climbed down quietly and was absently collecting coconuts. \"There are demons in the Maze too.\"\n\n\"Not like in the Haze, trust me.\" Jeremy turned to the pool. \"There must be some sort of deep ocean vent down there, see how the water bubbles? It's like a sulfur pool. I know Mantel is down there.\"\n\nBut before they could argue any further, the ground began to shake. Maren fell back but Jeremy caught her arm and crouched low with her for balance. The entire island was quaking.\n\n\"Tina!\" Maren looked over the side and saw her and Lyrna stumbling about. Rocks were falling now, large boulders crashing into the jungle, sweeping any sign of life with it into the lush green. She looked across at the ocean. The waves were eating away at the island. \"The island is sinking!\" yelled Maren.\n\nWater now flooded the mainland. Tina climbed quickly to higher ground. Monkeys and large rodents had the same idea, and the wall of rock encircling the deep pool was now filled with frantic refugees. Monkeys screeched and climbed over each other in the madness that ensued. Water was swelling in the pool now. A vortex was forming at its center. The water level of the surrounding ocean rose up the mountain, engulfing the jungle, and quickly spilled over the cliff, joining with the pool. Jeremy, Maren, and Tina were now swimming, caught in the savage currents circling the center of the pool. They couldn't cry out; fighting for breath was now a first priority.\n\nMaren saw Jeremy rise slightly in the air and flicker out of sight; he had gone into the Haze, but quickly reappeared. Their eyes met and he rushed to her, but it was too late. Maren took one last gulp of air and then she felt the ocean sweep over her head. It dragged her down and down―the pressure was brutal. She kicked and clawed, and pushed the air out of her lungs. Now she felt dizzy. She'd have to take a breath. The pressure on her chest was too much to bear. The water would drown her for sure, but she had to take a breath. She opened her mouth and felt the salty water push down her throat.\n\nJeremy rose high in the air, crossing between Haze and Earth. He cursed and spun around in the vast purple clouds. A demon was inches from his face. Whispering his name, it opened its mouth and extended its skeletal arm. Its fingers grazed Jeremy's chest and he kicked back.\n\n\"Apollyon's animus. Jeremy Chikalto's animus,\" it crooned.\n\nThe demon opened its mouth wide, unhinging its spectral jaw. Black tar swirled within. Jeremy pushed out to Earth and dove down into the water. He pulled out in the Haze, then pushed through again into the ocean. He kept swimming, taking breaths in the Haze, and going down deeper and deeper into the trenches of the Earth. The center of the vortex opened up and pulled him down until he shot out onto a stone floor. He had entered Mantel's Maze.\nChapter 20\n\nPuzzled\n\nMantel's Maze was an intricate realm of chambers and hidden passageways residing at the center of the Earth; it was a dark, dingy place of traps and secrets. Lava torches lined the walls, creating a patchwork of weird shadows. The Maze seemed to have its own intentions.\n\nJeremy, sopping wet, ran to a wooden doorway with rusted hinges. There was a high-pitched, blood-curdling scream in the next room. Jeremy flung the door open― monkeys. A brown monkey with matted, salt-water fur charged at Jeremy, and he slammed the door closed. The monkey's body crashed against the wood. Jeremy closed his eyes and slid to the floor, his back against the door. If the monkeys had managed to survive the descent into Mantel's Maze, Maren could still be alive. She had to be alive. Suddenly, Lyrna appeared in front of him. She growled deeply and was still in a frenzy.\n\n\"Lyrna, did Maren and Tina pass through the Haze? Can you tell?\"\n\nLyrna mewed and leapt through the air. She disappeared into the Haze but came back a second later. \"No.\"\n\n\"That means they're still alive! I've got to find them.\"\n\nJeremy and Lyrna crept through another door that was left ajar. The walls and floors rumbled slightly as they entered the room. To Jeremy's left was a thick column of mortared stone that ominously bore the weight of the low ceiling. Jeremy crept low, half expecting heaps of debris to fall on him and bury him alive. He stepped on a dusty tile and it sunk a quarter of an inch into the ground. \"Wait a second, we're on top of something.\"\n\nLyrna growled.\n\nJeremy got down on his hands and knees and attempted to lift the tile. Lyrna suddenly pounced on the back of his head and he stumbled forward, just in time. A large spike shot up, breaking the tile to shards and narrowly missing Jeremy. The spike was three feet tall, quite a painful height for impalement. Jeremy yelped and scurried back into the doorway, being careful to retrace his steps.\n\n\"Stupid!\" mewed Lyrna. \"Lyrna dead already. I lead!\" She jumped from tile to tile to demonstrate, setting off a flame as well as a blast of acid. Jeremy went to yell, but Lyrna had already died and shimmered away, disappearing into the Haze. Jeremy slumped against the wall, his heart stuck in his throat. Of course Lyrna couldn't die; she was already dead and could reincarnate at will. He counted the seconds, sad, yet grateful.\n\nThe dust from the booby traps settled. That's when he noticed twenty tiny eyes peeking out from small holes in the wall, shining in the dim light. \"Little devils!\" yelled Jeremy. He raised his palm and flung a bolt against the wall, and all the eyes disappeared, receding into hidden vaults. Jeremy looked up at the ceiling, which was flaking, and cursed himself for being reckless. He wiped the salt-water grime from off his upper lip and spit on the floor. Three minutes later, Lyrna popped back into the room and settled beside him.\n\n\"Does dying... hurt?\" he asked.\n\nLyrna gave a sad mew and snuggled into his lap. \"Depends,\" she admitted.\n\nHe picked her up by an ear tuft and slid his hand under her. Lyrna wrapped her paws around his neck.\n\nJeremy made his way across the room, mindful of the tiles whose traps hadn't been set off. The next door over looked unremarkable―wooden with rusty hinges. Jeremy gently pushed it open. This room was elongated with a single door at the other end. He gripped the handle, pulled it open, and―\"Snick, snick!\"\n\nAn orange, slinky ferret sat in front of him.\n\n\"Oh?\" Jeremy set Lyrna down. She wanted to have a thorough sniff.\n\nLyrna, overall, was a bigger sort of furball, fluffier too. She leaned in close to the ferret's butt.\n\n\"Oh, Lyrna, don't be so nosy!\" Jeremy made to nudge her with his foot.\n\n\"I don't mind,\" said the orange ferret. Lyrna jumped back and puffed to her full height and width. Jeremy couldn't help but laugh, though he quickly sobered. Mantel's Maze wasn't meant to be comical.\n\n\"A talking ferret, huh? You wouldn't happen to be a relative of the fizdruft, would you?\" asked Jeremy.\n\n\"No. I am two halves of two souls bound to ferret form.\" The ferret sounded like a little boy. He whipped his tail.\n\n\"Sorry,\" said Jeremy. \"No need to be moody.\"\n\n\"I have plenty of need, actually.\" The ferret twitched its nose and backed up.\n\n\"No hurt,\" said Lyrna. She circled around the ferret, walking sideways with her back arched. Jeremy decided she'd meant to be reassuring.\n\n\"Of course we won't hurt you,\" said Jeremy. \"Will you hurt us?\"\n\n\"No,\" said the ferret a little too quickly.\n\n\"Well okay then,\" said Jeremy, stepping around the slinky critter. \"We'll just be on our way.\"\n\n\"Can I come with you?\"\n\nLyrna mewed sadly. \"Souls go Haze,\" she said, pointing her paw at the ferret.\n\n\"They're supposed to, aren't they? Maybe you can take this little guy there?\"\n\n\"No!\" The ferret hissed and skidded out the door in front of them.\n\n\"Or not,\" said Jeremy. He shrugged. \"We'll deal with that later, Lyrna. Right now we have to find Maren.\"\n\nLyrna meowed a strained meow and nodded. They walked through the door that the ferret had entered. A small hot spring was rapidly drying up in the corner of the room. Steam engulfed the base of the pool. When the fog lifted, the hot spring was gone.\n\nMeanwhile, Maren and Tina had been spit out in a different tunnel that was similarly decorated. Tina had held her breath through the whole swim, having been the champion of underwater breath holding as a child at the neighborhood pool. Maren, unfortunately, had a more sheltered upbringing and as a result had taken in a breath of salt water, and was turning blue on the ground.\n\n\"Maren, if you leave me alone in this crazy place you're definitely going to Hell!\" Tina rushed over to her and pumped on her chest rhythmically, giving her mouth-to-mouth. After a couple rounds, Maren coughed and gasped.\n\n\"Bitch!\"\n\nMaren sat up on her elbows. \"Thanks,\" she said weakly.\n\n\"I almost slipped you some tongue, but then, ya know, you woke up,\" said Tina, grinning. But her humor quickly faded. \"Maren, I'm scared and I want to go home.\" Tears began to form.\n\nMaren felt terrible that Tina got dragged into their bizarre adventure. \"Don't worry, we've been here before. Jeremy knows what to do.\"\n\nThey waited for a few minutes as though something else would happen so they didn't have to walk through the Maze.\n\n\"Is Jeremy...?\" Tina looked around the room.\n\n\"He's fine, he wouldn't drown. We have to find him.\" Maren wrung out her wet clothes, sighed, and pushed open the nearest wooden door with the toe of her gladiator sandals. \"Sandals were a bad choice,\" she mumbled.\n\nTina crossed her arms. \"At least you still have shoes.\" Tina had long since abandoned her high heels. \"I wish I had more clothes.\"\n\nPoor Tina was practically in her underwear. The air in this part of the Maze was dank and chilly.\n\n\"You'd think the depths of the Earth would be hot,\" said Tina. \"Am I dreaming?\"\n\n\"Just keep your guard up,\" said Maren. They'd entered a dark room with eight doors. Cobwebs lined the stone walls. \"This room looks... spidery.\" Maren shivered and stepped back.\n\n\"So you've been here before? How'd you get out?\" asked Tina.\n\n\"We need to find Jeremy.\"\n\n\"He is an angel,\" said Tina, her eyes glazing over. \"Which is totally hot. I bet he was even more angelic as a child.\"\n\n\"Like a cherub.\" Maren rolled her eyes.\n\nJust then, the door behind them slammed shut and they heard eight bolts slide into place.\n\n\"Fabulous.\"\n\nThey tried the door they came in through, but it was locked, as were the other eight.\n\n\"This can't be happening.\" Tina began pounding on a door. \"Jeremy? Hey!\"\n\nA panel in the middle of the floor slid aside and a small and ornate platform rose up. Tina spun around and then hid behind Maren, pointing frantically at the raised panel. Maren stepped forward. The stone had an inscription at the top, and beneath that there was a series of stone buttons, each with a Hebrew letter written on it. The inscription read in Hebrew:\n\n18:37:22\n\n19:150:5\n\n46:9:27\n\nTherefore love YHWH your God with all your mind.\n\n\"What is this?\" Tina squinted at the letters.\n\n\"Welcome to Mantel's Maze.\"\n\n\"Dorky puzzles? Maren, this is like your dream come true,\" sighed Tina. \"So you solve it and the doors open?\" Tina stared blankly at the panel.\n\nMaren touched one of the Hebrew letters ever so gently. \"I think I have to spell something with the stone buttons.\" She pressed down the letter. \"Oh, I didn't mean to...\" Just then, a large, black spider fell from the ceiling and landed on the left cheek of Tina's ample posterior, and she slapped it away with a practiced hand. \"WTF,\" she yelled. There was a faint rustling. Maren squealed as hundreds of baby spiders began to drop down from the ceiling on tiny silk threads.\n\n\"Okay, okay, it has something to do with the Bible,\" panted Maren, trying to remain calm as a couple of spiders landed in her hair. \"Plagues. No, numbers. Job 37:22, Psalms 150:5, and First Corinthians 9:27.\" Maren closed her eyes and looked inward, viewing the elaborate mnemonic diagram that she had drilled into herself, the product of her search for meaning after her mother's death and her need for meticulous distraction. She began her mental walk down the forest path, spiders swinging from the trees. She tried to ignore them, instead concentrating on the sequence of carefully placed landmarks. Job 37:22 was a golden orb descending from the sky. Psalms 150:5 was crashing cymbals. First Corinthians 9:27 was a man beating himself.\n\n\"Maren, hurry!\" Tina was hyperventilating as the floor began to move―hundreds of tiny spider legs scuttled across the stone, now making their way up Tina's legs. She violently jiggled the door handle. \"Maren!\"\n\n\"Out of the north he comes in golden splendor; God comes in awesome majesty. Praise him with the clash of cymbals, praise him with resounding cymbals. I beat my body and bring it into submission, lest by any means, after I have preached to others, I myself should be rejected.\" Spiders were now scaling the walls. Everywhere was blackness, and Tina was dancing up a storm.\n\n\"Splendor, praise, submission, mind.\" The words collected and began to unearth an association in her. She saw the Tree of Life in the midst of the Garden of Eden. After the progenitors ate the fruit of knowledge, partaking of distinction, they individuated from the One; self consciousness was born in the microcosm. She saw the Tree of Life diagram of the Kabbalists, those puzzle-loving Rabbis. Her mind's eye zoomed in on Hod, the eighth node on the tree associated with splendor, praise, and submission; meaning the phase of evolution where, after the One becomes conscious of itself, forming the microcosm, and then develops desire, the desire is constrained by another desire, creating internal structure, and thought is formed. Hod: the realm of mind. Maren awoke from her reverie and spelled 'Hod' on the stone, and eight latches in the room slid back. They ran out of the room, trying to shake the creepiest of plagues.\n\nMaren slammed the door behind them. She squatted on the floor. \"Disgusting. Oh God, I hate this place.\" She lowered her head between her legs and began to spit up. \"I feel nauseous. I think I drank too much sea water.\"\n\n\"Thank you, oh Maren, you're brilliant!\" Tina clapped her hands together appreciatively. \"I have no idea what you did back there, but... I don't think I could have danced those spiders off anymore!\" Tina slid down beside Maren and steadied her breathing. \"Hey,\" she straightened. \"Did you hear that?\"\n\nMaren belched.\n\nTina pulled back Maren's hair in case she was going to vomit.\n\n\"You have no idea, Tina. There are things in this Maze that will give you nightmares―\"\n\n\"There it is again!\"\n\nSilence.\n\n\"Let's keep going,\" whispered Maren, steadying herself against the wall.\n\n\"Maren!\"\n\nMaren looked at Tina and beamed. \"It's him! Jeremy!\" she called back.\n\n\"He's here!\" yelled Tina, putting her head against the wall.\n\n\"Jeremy, we're on the other side!\"\n\nThere was quiet and then Jeremy and Lyrna materialized behind Maren. She jumped, spun around, and wrapped her arms around him. \"I thought I'd died,\" she said into his shirt.\n\nJeremy smiled down at her and kissed her forehead, his eyes welling up.\n\nTina smiled and rushed in for a hug too.\n\nSuddenly, the orange ferret appeared at the end of the corridor and raced towards them. \"Wait!\" it said.\n\nMaren gave Jeremy a puzzled look and then knelt beside the ferret, who now sat upright by her leg panting. \"Hello there little guy.\" She held her hand out for it to sniff.\n\nLyrna puffed and eyed the ferret suspiciously from behind Jeremy's leg.\n\n\"We met this ferret earlier,\" said Jeremy. He put his hands on his hips. \"What is it? Did you change your mind? Do you want Lyrna to take you to the Haze?\"\n\n\"No,\" said the ferret as it rolled on its back, revealing its long, thin tummy. Maren chanced a pet. The orange ferret snickered.\n\n\"Well then what do you want?\"\n\nThe ferret jumped back on its feet. \"Can I speak with you in private, Jeremy?\"\n\nJeremy smiled. \"Of course not. How did you know my name?\"\n\n\"A friend sent me. Some ghosts.\"\n\n\"What ghosts?\" Jeremy raised his eyebrows and looked at Maren.\n\n\"Why does it have to be a private conversation?\" asked Maren.\n\n\"It concerns his fate,\" said the ferret simply.\n\nJeremy rubbed his temples and sighed. \"Fine. But we're not going far.\"\n\n\"Just out of earshot,\" said the ferret.\n\nJeremy marched to the end of the corridor, leaving Maren, Lyrna, and Tina behind, and opened the door to the cobweb room. The spiders had cleared out. He walked inside and was followed by the ferret.\n\n\"Okay,\" said Jeremy. He sat cross-legged on the floor directly in front of the critter and created an orb of energy in the palm of his hand. \"One false move and you can take a trip to the Haze.\"\n\nThe ferret gulped and the fur near its rear ruffled. \"You're afraid of demons?\"\n\n\"Of course. Aren't you?\"\n\n\"Yes, well. No. See, I have Mantel's protection.\" The ferret crouched low to the ground in anticipation of the shock.\n\nJeremy considered this. \"Mantel's sent you, didn't he?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" admitted the ferret.\n\n\"So he sends a minion to ferret its way into my confidences.\" Jeremy smiled wryly.\n\n\"Hear me out!\" said the ferret defensively. \"He can protect you from the demons. He needs you as an ally.\"\n\n\"Needs me.\" Jeremy snorted and rose to his feet.\n\n\"Destiny has made you two sides of the same coin. You need him as much as he needs you.\"\n\nJeremy shrugged and grabbed at the door handle. \"That's one theory of many.\"\n\n\"He wants you to help make him a better person!\" spat the ferret, its fur raised and claws out.\n\nJeremy paused, his hand still resting on the door handle. \"Mantel's not a person.\"\n\n\"But he was! And he knows now that he's gone astray. He sees that you're still whole, that you... still have something to love. The bitterness of God's rejection has driven all of the humanity out of him, but his Maze was never intended to be a second Hell―he means for it to be a place of preservation. He wants souls to be happy and individuated.\"\n\n\"Those are a lot of big words for a little boy.\"\n\n\"I'm only half-boy....\"\n\n\"I'll think about it.\" Jeremy opened the door and returned to his party.\nChapter 21\n\nShortcut\n\n\"Well?\" asked Maren when Jeremy walked into the room.\n\nJeremy frowned. \"The ferret agrees that we should steer clear of demons.\"\n\nMaren crossed her arms. \"That's it? No new information?\"\n\n\"Apparently that ferret has two souls.\"\n\n\"Not exactly mission-relevant.\" Maren crinkled her nose and looked down at the orange ferret.\n\nLyrna let out a strained mew.\n\n\"Well,\" continued Maren, \"we have to leave here, obviously. I know you said that there are demons in the Haze, but I think it's our only chance of escape. Maybe you should check periodically to see if the demons have cleared out. In the meantime, I think we should find Fedonis the Hermit. His storefront seems pretty well-guarded. Maybe he'd be willing to give us shelter until the demons pass?\"\n\n\"I could take you to Fedonis,\" said the ferret.\n\nJeremy narrowed his eyes at the ferret. \"I'd prefer to find him myself,\" said Jeremy.\n\n\"Well he's quite far from here, at least a month's journey on foot.\"\n\nMaren put her hand up to silence Jeremy. \"A month! Could you get us there sooner?\"\n\n\"Wait!\" yelled Jeremy. \"This ferret can't be trusted yet. He's Mantel's courier.\"\n\nThe orange ferret whimpered and pawed at Jeremy's pant leg. \"You have to trust me. The direction you're going will take you to what we call the Circus Tent. Demons haunt that part of the Maze. You'll die for sure.\"\n\nJeremy reached out with his awareness and felt the waves washing through the Haze. Yes, there was a darkness coming from that direction. He grabbed the ferret by the scruff of the neck and pulled it to his face. \"If you lead us into some trap, I swear I'll send you straight to Hell!\" He gave the ferret a violent jerk and the ferret screeched in pain.\n\n\"Jeremy!\" Maren rushed forward and grabbed the ferret, pulling it to her chest.\n\n\"You're weak,\" said Jeremy. \"Mantel's manipulating us with appearances.\"\n\n\"My compassion is my strength,\" said Maren, and she pet the ferret on the head. \"First sign of the ferret's disloyalty, we'll oust him. Until then....\" Maren rubbed the ferret under the chin.\n\nJeremy threw his hands up. \"Fine, how soon 'til we get there?\"\n\n\"Less than five hours,\" squeaked the ferret.\n\nThe orange ferret scurried in and out of doorways at a rapid pace, and Jeremy, Maren, and Lyrna were pleased to find the path free of immediate danger. Tina scurried after, looking behind her shoulder every time a sound came into earshot. At last, the ferret brought them to an oasis, and Jeremy, Maren, and Tina smiled at the site of liquid, something they hadn't quite expected given they'd almost drowned.\n\n\"Relax and drink from this pool,\" said the ferret. \"Only a few more doors over and we'll be at a good landmark.\"\n\nTina leaned over the green water and gulped it down.\n\nJeremy, Maren, and Lyrna only hesitated for a second, trusting the citrusy fluid to be as safe and rejuvenating as the last time they'd refueled at an oasis. They didn't have much of a choice. They would be damned if, after all of this, they died of dehydration. When they had all had their fill, it was decided that they would rest before continuing the journey. Lyrna, being already a spirit, had no need for sleep and so stayed on watch.\n\nJeremy was the first to rouse from sleep. He crawled across the cold, stone floor and nudged the ferret.\n\n\"Snick!\" The ferret sleepily lifted its head and the faint green of the oasis glowed in its eyes.\n\n\"How does Mantel repel the demons?\" Jeremy whispered.\n\nThe ferret's nose twitched.\n\n\"How would he protect me?\"\n\n\"Oh, well... Mantel has his charms,\" said the ferret, stretching its back legs.\n\nJeremy looked around at Maren and Tina, both still as stone. \"Then why are there demons down here?\"\n\nThe ferret's ears twitched. Lyrna had crept over to them.\n\n\"You need Haze,\" hissed Lyrna, raising a paw to the other furball.\n\nThe ferret hissed back, though Jeremy thought it was a sad hiss. The hisses had awoken Maren. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. \"I can't believe I slept.\"\n\n\"I can,\" said Tina, also now awake. \"I'm exhausted. I need an espresso.\" She stretched her arms over her head and then made her way to the oasis. Maren followed.\n\nJeremy wondered just how innocuous Mantel's Maze appeared to Tina compared to Leviathan Island. He turned to the ferret again. \"So Mantel has charms to deflect the demons, but he only uses them on himself? Why would he allow the demons near any of the souls if they threaten his energy source?\"\n\nThe ferret proceeded to gnaw on its backside. \"The demons are too powerful,\" it said between chews. \"Mantel knows you possess powers far greater than his charms, but that you're unaware of these powers. In return for your alliance, Mantel can guarantee you freedom. This Maze is freedom from the sorting. He can capture your soul before it escapes to the Haze and infuse it in an object or creature to exist unchanged forever. Wouldn't it be better to take a sure bet instead of gambling on your own virtue? Or you can go to Hell with the demons and assume your role in the Apocalypse.\"\n\n\"Damn it! What is my 'role'?\" Jeremy sprung to his feet.\n\n\"Be neutral. Hide out here until the dust settles.\" The ferret whipped its tail about.\n\nJeremy looked back at Maren and Tina, both talking animatedly by the oasis.\n\n\"Shall we get going, then?\" blurted the ferret loud enough for Maren and Tina to hear. The ferret sidestepped Jeremy and everyone rose to their feet and shuffled out through a large, creaky door. At first Jeremy was amused at Mantel's obvious tactic. But now he saw the power of the message―after all, he did like the idea of being Jeremy Chikalto forever instead of a pawn or worse. Who was better at selling a lie, a ferret or an angel?\n\n\"Just in here,\" said the ferret after more twists and turns through the Maze. The party had sufficiently rested for the journey, and so kept a good pace. \"We'll be emerging close to another oasis.\"\n\nJeremy pushed a large, wrought-iron door open, and three ghosts, one tall, skinny creature with green skin and a beak, and one animal that looked like a rhinoceros, were all waiting patiently in a line leading up to a canal. Maren nearly shrieked, but stopped herself after making eye contact with Jeremy. Tina, instead, let out a lusty scream.\n\nEveryone in line turned to the young woman dressed nearly in her underwear and gave her a disinterested grunt. Jeremy pulled her to him.\n\n\"Tina, just watch the ferret,\" he whispered. \"If the ferret's calm, then you be calm.\"\n\n\"But,\" Tina pointed at the wisp of spirit, \"is that a g-ghost?\"\n\n\"Just forget about being surprised. We don't have time for hysterics.\"\n\nTina buried her head in Jeremy's shoulder, and Jeremy heard the slightest sigh of annoyance escape Maren's mouth. He turned to her, but she had already changed her expression to a gentle, albeit forced, smile.\n\nOther ghouls and beasties were filtering into the chamber.\n\nThe ferret stepped forward and stood in line. \"Just in time! Here comes the sub.\"\n\nA loud, rough sound came from under the water. There was a dissonant chorus of pitches, and much sloshing. Something black and shiny surfaced in the narrow canal just beyond the line of otherworldly passengers. A hatch opened.\n\n\"Just step in here,\" said the ferret. And sure enough, the first in line jumped into the blackness that now opened up in the canal.\n\n\"What is that? Is that... alive?\" Jeremy squinted at the black shiny thing that seemed to go on indefinitely. \"Is that really a submarine?\"\n\n\"That's what we call it,\" said the ferret.\n\nThe line moved quickly and Jeremy watched as the ghost in front of him crossed himself like a good Catholic. \"What was...?\"\n\nOn seeing Jeremy, Maren, Tina, and Lyrna's hesitation, the ferret hopped in first.\n\nMaren stepped in front of Jeremy and held out her hand. \"Come on, Jeremy.\"\n\nJeremy looked down and swallowed. The submarine's exterior was slick like skin. He took her hand, and then Tina took his other hand. Lyrna jumped onto his shoulder. Jeremy concentrated and emanated a beam of light from his forehead. Looking down into the sub, he saw the red black tip of what could only be a tongue. Right on cue, Maren stumbled forward, pulling him and everyone else into the creature's mouth.\nChapter 22\n\nCongratulations\n\nA day's journey away from Fedonis the Hermit's Circle of Wisdom, Ms. Fritz crouched next to a large stone and edged her way closer to a small stream that ran parallel to a crystal rock bed. Shards of precious stone jutted out from the water, creating a collage of mirrors. There she was: plain, squat, and Germanic. But what did appearances matter now, now that she was doing Mantel's Great Work? Mantel loved her, she knew, more than any other man could. He understood rejection, not like all those shallow people of the past. She dreamed of the future, the inevitable future. She was venerated for her bravery and intelligence, a rare combination indeed. Yes, even through strife and discouragement, Gorda Fritz persevered in doing what was right for her brothers and sisters—bringing into fruition the Kingdom of Mantel. There would be statues, yes, and people would gather to give thanks and offerings, and read her quotes in public, or perhaps set them to music. She would continue to live, of course, as a scholar and a paragon of wisdom, teaching pupils at the most esteemed institutions. Despite her age, she would have many suitors. No, she would have to say, I am betrothed to the people.\n\nThe Intergalactic Intelligence Unit followed at her rear, shouldering heavy weapons. Their crisp, white uniforms now looked sooty and torn.\n\n\"It should be just through here,\" said Ms. Fritz. She spit on her hand and then ran it across the top of her head, smoothing down the stray hairs. Her bun had wilted, and though she longed to fix it, she could not as time was of the essence. They were hunting, and their trophy was right in front of them.\n\nDown the trail, in a clearing full of ferns, was a centaur-like creature, the fusion of a woman and a horse soul. Grazing on the leaves next to her was a miniature replica—a rare child born in the Maze. The father, if there was one, was unknown. Aside from the logistics of the birth, Mantel was interested in the delicacy of a fresh soul, untainted by the darkness of experience. Mantel wanted more babies and more power. \"Don't you see?\" Mantel had hissed at Ms. Fritz. \"I've been consuming too many damned spirits—it's why the demons come here. In order to compete with God, I need to consume the innocent. I need you to initiate a breeding program, Ms. Fritz. I want more babies!\"\n\nJasmine hung her head between her legs and covered her mouth. She burped and the creatures flinched, then galloped into a tunnel.\n\n\"Damn it!\" yelled Ms. Fritz. But then she smiled and crossed her arms. \"Jasmine, this is the second time today.\"\n\nJasmine moaned.\n\n\"And you're late?\"\n\n\"I am,\" replied Jasmine.\n\n\"Let's get her back to Mantel. She needs to be off the front lines.\"\n\nBentley smiled and shook hands with Drew. He then patted Jasmine on the back. \"Congratulations, Jasmine. Your sacrifice is unparalleled.\"\nChapter 23\n\nSubs and Twinkies\n\nJeremy, Maren, Lyrna, Tina, the ferret, and a cohort of ghosts and abominations were in freefall for a moment, and then landed in a hot pile inside a squishy cavern, which was dimly lit by the phosphorescent walls. Everything was claustrophobic and squirming.\n\n\"Have a seat. Over here.\" The ferret hopped across the teeth of the \"sub,\" which were all flat like molars. A few ghosts' bellies glowed a faint green, and the ghosts and abominations began spreading along the perimeter of the mouth.\n\n\"We're inside something's mouth!\" Jeremy wormed through the crowd and frantically attempted to peel back the rubbery lips of the sub.\n\n\"Hurry, hurry!\" hissed the ferret. \"You'll want to sit along the teeth. Don't want to be caught by the tongue.\"\n\nMaren yelped and leapt into a gap in the teeth and into the slimy gums of the sub. Tina landed beside her.\n\nAs the crowd was settling, the floor wobbled and the red-black tongue of the sub rose up and slid along the roof of the mouth. Jeremy jumped up on a tooth. \"Tell me right now why I shouldn't fry this fish!\" Jeremy held up his hand and sparked. \"You've led us here to kill us!\"\n\nThe ferret hissed and hopped from foot to foot. \"Jeremy, you must be discreet! At the beginning of each ride, one of the passengers is consumed for fuel. Stay on the teeth where the sub can't feel you. Don't draw attention to yourself.\"\n\nJeremy allowed the spark to fizzle. He hesitated and then took a seat beside the ferret on a particularly large tooth. Lyrna was nowhere to be seen. He watched as the sub's tongue slid down the inner cheek. He could hear the ghosts closest to the tongue reciting prayers.\n\n\"Why are they praying?\" Jeremy leaned forward and then covered his mouth with his sleeve. \"It stinks in here.\"\n\n\"Ssh!\" hissed the ferret. And the tongue rolled to the front of the mouth, near the tooth in front of Maren and Tina. They burrowed deeper into the gums.\n\n\"What's it doing now?\" Jeremy leaned forward. \"Maren and Tina are in the gums. Hey!\"\n\nThe sub began to shift its jaw.\n\n\"I told you all to get on the teeth,\" scolded the ferret.\n\n\"Tina!\" Maren pulled Tina close. The tongue wobbled angrily overhead.\n\nJeremy's eyes began to flicker an electric blue. \"I'm going over there.\" Jeremy jumped off of the tooth.\n\n\"Leave it alone,\" hissed the ferret.\n\nLyrna scurried beside Jeremy. \"I'm not just going to sit here and get digested.\"\n\nThe tongue slapped against a tooth to Jeremy's right, and Jeremy could feel the hot saliva splash on his back. He picked up Lyrna by the ear tuft and made ready to launch himself onto Maren and Tina, who were paralyzed by fear.\n\nBut the tongue beat him to it, and flopped onto Maren and Tina, slowly caressing them. Maren was almost as disgusted as she was terrified, and began to gag from the feel of the giant taste buds on her face. A praying ghost nearby went into a frenzy, and floated to the roof of the mouth. The tongue paused for a moment, and then left Maren and Tina for a livelier catch. The tongue wrapped around the floating ghost and tossed it back into the dark tunnel in the back of its mouth. There was a tremendous gurgle, and the ghost was gone. The other ghosts and abominations erupted into applause, and then started gossiping as though nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. The tongue, meanwhile, had turned back into a floor.\n\nMaren peeped up from behind the tooth, beads of perspiration and saliva clinging to her forehead.\n\nJeremy trotted over to her and slumped onto the tooth. \"I think that tops Jonah.\"\n\nTina's head poked up from the gum line. Her mouth twitched as she stumbled for words. Her voice caught at the back of her throat and then she started screaming.\n\nJeremy rushed over to her and covered her mouth with his hand. \"Quiet!\"\n\nTina nodded, her eyes wide and brimming with tears. Jeremy released his hand and looked around at the ghosts and abominations, all of whom had taken a sudden interest in the party. \"It's nothing,\" he called out before turning to the ferret. \"So? You want to explain?\"\n\n\"The sub wouldn't have chosen any of you. The living don't burn as clean, so to speak. The soul is tougher to extract. Besides, part of the chosen ghost's soul merges with that of the sub. There is no death, only transformation. That spirit is now part of the spirit of the sub, but it retains its self. That is Mantel's covenant; there is no absorption, only amalgamation.\" The words sounded rehearsed.\n\n\"Would have been nice to know before we came in here,\" said Jeremy. He lowered his hand to Maren and she accepted. He pulled her up beside him.\n\n\"I'm disgusting,\" she moaned. Her dress and gladiator sandals was covered in a thick coating of saliva.\n\nJeremy pulled her close to him and patted the top of her head. Strings of spit connected his hand with her hair. \"Yes, you are.\" After a pause, he continued. \"So why were the ghosts praying to God?\"\n\nThe ferret flinched. \"They shouldn't be, really,\" the ferret whispered. \"They cling to their old fears.\" The ferret flattened its ears. \"It's a touchy subject with Mantel.\"\n\nThe rest of the sub ride passed by uneventfully. The spirits kept to their kind, and Jeremy could occasionally make out the words \"Mantel\" and \"demon.\" It was like his two greatest concerns were shared by every creature in the Maze.\n\nThe sub chugged along for four hours, twisting and turning through the canals. At last it slowed and began to rise to the surface. Maren was the first to climb out onto a wooden deck. \"You said there was an oasis around here somewhere?\" She gave the ferret a desperate look. \"I need to bathe.\"\n\n\"This way.\" The ferret led the party past the docks and into a cavernous stretch of the Maze. Torches flickered on the rocky walls, warping their shadows as they passed. \"Just through here.\"\n\nIt was the same oasis they'd come to months prior, and even the same deer-like creature was drinking from the pool. It darted towards the door, stood up on its hind legs, opened the door, and fled.\n\n\"Good times,\" said Maren, and she smiled at Jeremy.\n\nEveryone gathered around the pool and drank freely. The effects were instantaneous.\n\nJeremy did a graceful dive into the pool, and soon Maren and Tina joined him. Lyrna preferred a tongue bath of her own. The green glowing liquid not only quenched one's thirst, but it stripped off the grime of the Maze.\n\nAfter the respite, Jeremy grew quiet and wandered off.\n\nMaren and Tina exchanged worried glances as they wrung their clothes out to dry. Tina was the first to speak. \"So he really doesn't know his purpose? Seems strange to come all this way with no purpose.\"\n\n\"He's slow to open up.\"\n\n\"So you think he knows?\"\n\nMaren frowned. \"No, but whatever it is, his responsibility is a heavy burden.\" She sighed.\n\n\"Do you find that attractive? You like the sweet and sensitive type, so maybe you think you can fix him. But Mitch was a better match—you guys were perfect for each other. Jeremy... he needs someone wild and spontaneous, someone who's a little rough around the edges. He doesn't need fixing; he needs someone to help him forget.\"\n\n\"Tina!\" Maren turned on her, arms akimbo. \"How inappropriate!\"\n\n\"But Mitch—\"\n\n\"And don't talk about Mitch right now!\" There was a tense silence for a few minutes. Jeremy returned and the party continued walking.\n\n\"All right,\" said the ferret. \"Just through here.\"\n\nIn front of them was a stone wall, unremarkably similar to most of the walls in the Maze.\n\n\"Shortcut.\" The ferret walked to the wall and stuck two claws into tiny holes in the rock, and jiggled them in a particular sequence. The wall rumbled for a few moments, and then swung slowly aside, revealing a hallway ending in a wooden door. The door had a sign on it, reading, \"No trespassers, or else!\" They walked down the hallway and paused.\n\nJeremy remembered the last time he'd seen the squirrely old hermit. Fedonis had been leaning up against the door and had fallen to the floor.\n\nMaren pushed the door open and Fedonis, who was leaning of the door, toppled over. \"By the buds of Mantel!\" he cried, and scrambled to his feet. As usual, he was wearing clothing resembling a potato sack and his hair sorely needed a wash. All manners of trinkets and bottles crowded the crude shelves lining the room.\n\n\"Aha! Faithful customers. What'll it be today? Hrm?\" he said, a little more loudly than necessary. Fedonis hobbled over to his makeshift stand and assumed his post.\n\n\"Just, um...\" Maren moved slowly towards the old man, eyeing up his potions and various talismans in case she needed to buy something to get him to talk.\n\nJeremy walked past her and pointed to his riddle stool set up in the opposite corner.\n\n\"Ah, information!\" Fedonis wriggled free from his makeshift stand and wobbled over to his stool. \"Welcome to the Circle of Wisdom!\"\n\n\"Wait!\" Maren crossed her arms. \"We just wanted to know how you managed to stay safe all these years.\"\n\nThe old man blinked and then yanked at his white beard. \"Well that's definitely information you'll be wanting then, sit, sit! I'll commence with the riddle!\"\n\n\"But,\" blurted Maren, \"we'd like to have your protection. That might be considered a service.\"\n\nFedonis sighed, shifted uncomfortably, and then spun around on his stool five times pondering how to classify the request.\n\nMaren, Jeremy, Lyrna, and Tina waited patiently, but he remained quiet. Maren nodded at Jeremy and then continued. \"We just wanted a safe place to rest for a few days, and figured your storefront—\"\n\n\"And Circle.\"\n\n\"—and Circle of Wisdom seem like a permanent establishment, so we imagined you must have some type of security.\"\n\n\"Step closer, young missy.\" Fedonis the Hermit beckoned her with a gnarled finger. When at last Maren stood in front of him, he leaned over and gave her a great sniff. \"Ah!\"\n\n\"Ah,\" said Maren, baffled.\n\n\"Yes, I remember you three. And you've got a new friend, too, I smell.\" Fedonis sniffed in the direction of Tina and she recoiled. Fedonis wriggled his bushy eyebrows. \"You've survived for a spell in this dump, maybe we could trade secrets.\"\n\nMaren turned to Jeremy and looked at him pleadingly. Everyone but Fedonis knew they hadn't been confined to the Maze all those months between visits.\n\n\"Well,\" said Jeremy. \"We've survived mainly due to luck,\" he winked at Maren, \"but also, because of this.\" Jeremy held out his palm and the air surrounding his skin twitched with static. A burst of blue energy expanded and contracted into a ball, and he cradled the orb of light, rolling it about in his hand. He looked to Fedonis, who was entranced by the light. The old man began to lean forward, and Jeremy had to pull his hand away to prevent the hermit from sniffing the electricity.\n\n\"Ah!\" said Fedonis. \"That is quite a bauble!\" He leaned forward. \"Where did you get that?\"\n\n\"I just...\" Jeremy bit his lip.\n\n\"The Dragon's Horn?\"\n\n\"Sorry?\"\n\nFedonis eyed Jeremy suspiciously and caressed his beard. Then he took to twirling his long white ear hairs around his fingers. \"Tell you what, you teach me how to do that, and I'll let you partake in Fedonis's security system.\"\n\nJeremy and Maren simultaneously sighed. \"I can't do that,\" said Jeremy at last.\n\n\"Hrm,\" said Fedonis. \"Well, I like the cut of your jab, young man. Tell you what. You go and fetch some supplies from the Dragon's Horn for me, I'll give you shelter.\"\n\n\"That hardly sounds like a deal,\" said Jeremy.\n\n\"A haggler, eh?\" Fedonis rubbed his bushy chin and squinted.\n\nMaren gave Jeremy a little smack. \"What's the Dragon's Horn, exactly?\"\n\nFedonis gave her a wry smile. \"Never been? The Dragon's Horn is a series of chambers with chests, each bearing some discarded soul remains condensed in liquid form or infused in objects. Mantel, God curse him, experiments with soul remains and sometimes has unpleasant or unnecessary... leftovers. And they're not always just traces, you see. Real souls—not yet sorted, but contained.\" Fedonis waved at his store, with all its potions and miscellaneous objects. \"My business. In my youth I braved the Dragon's Horn and was lucky enough to come across some choice items. I traded these with other creatures, humans, and souls, and developed a bit of a reputation.\" He snorted. \"Now I send others to the Dragon's Horn, but they are handsomely rewarded with my best stock.\" Fedonis crouched down behind his stand and stood up holding an armful of Twinkies. \"Ah, you want, yes? Came in with some backpackers who fell down a volcano.\"\n\nTina did want and she lunged forward, pushing past Jeremy and Maren. \"Yes! Can I? Please!?\"\n\nFedonis laughed. \"One for each,\" and he handed out the Twinkies, even giving one to Lyrna and the ferret. Everyone quickly unwrapped the Twinkies and shoved them into their mouths.\n\n\"There's plenty more where that came from, and of course, I have hidden supplies, well-guarded too. So, how about it, you hooligans? Hrm?\" The old hermit cocked his head to the side and smiled broadly, showing his few remaining teeth.\n\nMaren licked the cream off her fingers and then took in a deep breath. \"So we just go to the Dragon's Horn, open some chests, and bring back whatever supplies we can find? What's the catch? Why's it called the Dragon's Horn?\"\n\nFedonis stretched his arms overhead and then began to hack. \"Hrm-hrm! Dragon's Horn. They say there exists an object of immense power called the Dragon's Horn and that it was lost a long time ago, accidentally discarded in one of the chests. It belonged to Mantel himself. Rumor has it you can blow into the horn and summon Doppelgangers.\"\n\n\"A double walker,\" whispered Maren.\n\nJeremy hesitated, then shook his head. \"I'm sorry, what?\"\n\nFedonis nodded to Maren, whose eyes were large and fearful. She continued, \"A doppelganger is an evil double. You see a double of your friend or someone you know, in your peripheral vision, and it portends illness or danger. You see your own doppelganger... and it's an omen of death.\"\n\nJeremy shivered. He recalled the deep-sea creature they saw on Watico. He could do without any more omens.\n\n\"And this is in one of the chests at the um, the place called the Dragon's Horn?\" asked Tina.\n\n\"So named,\" said Fedonis, wagging his finger. He paused and then scratched his ear. \"Ah, and then you must know that some chests in the Dragon's Horn contain poisonous vapors, which are concentrated hate. These vapors can be violent or jealous, dangerous see? But then, sometimes you'll catch a breeze of love, which might have come from a digested soul with some good left in it. Ah, that's nice. That, there.\" Fedonis pointed to a jar above him. It contained a bright orange liquid. \"One part jealousy, two parts love. And then some secret ingredients, of course.\" Fedonis winked. \"It's a love potion. I dare say one of you ladies might want this to secure this handsome young man? Or,\" Fedonis turned to Jeremy, \"perhaps an unrequited love?\"\n\nJeremy scoffed at the potion. \"We're all settled, thank you.\"\n\nLyrna puffed up and ran to the far corner of the room. \"Come!\" she yelled.\n\n\"Yes, talk to your pretty pets. And don't forget, I have the potion for whatever ails you. It might seem like a risky undertaking,\" said Fedonis, \"but, ah, no! So much the riskier to live in the Maze without adequate protection! You'll perish before you can say 'jitterbug.'\"\n\nJeremy, Maren, Tina, and the ferret walked over to Lyrna, who led the way outside the door. When they had closed the door behind them, Lyrna put her paws on Jeremy's legs and he stooped down.\n\n\"I go. Not scared.\"\n\n\"Right.\" Jeremy turned to Maren. \"If Lyrna dies, it's just a small delay until she reincarnates. But we are all bound to be sorted.\"\n\nMaren considered this.\n\n\"So it's a win-win situation, sort of. We'll get his protection—\"\n\n\"And the Twinkies,\" said Tina.\n\n\"—and whatever other potions or charms he's willing to give us, and we'll be okay.\"\n\nLyrna mewed sadly.\n\n\"It hurts her to die,\" said Jeremy.\n\nMaren frowned. \"We're forever indebted to you, Lyrna.\"\n\nEveryone agreed and together they walked back through the door and into Fedonis's shop.\n\nFedonis wagged his finger and whistled his own theme song. They waited patiently for the song to conclude. Fedonis savored his performance and began vigorously conducting his own mouth orchestra.\n\n\"We accept your offer,\" said Maren.\n\n\"Very well!\" Fedonis erupting into applause. He looked each person in the eye and clapped out a different rhythm. When he'd finished, he got out a map, marked it, and gave Tina a watch. She frowned.\n\n\"Return here when the big hand gets on the seven.\"\n\nTina squinted her eyes at the watch. \"It's one o'clock now? AM?\"\n\n\"Hrm?\"\n\nJeremy smiled at Tina. \"It's not set correctly but it tells us all we need to know.\"\nChapter 24\n\nPortal\n\nThe map led them down a series of staircases. Jeremy and the ferret went ahead, while Lyrna guarded the back of the caravan. \"What is the purpose of all this architecture?\" Jeremy grumbled.\n\n\"Free exercise,\" offered Tina. As they walked down the stairs, Maren noticed that Tina was flexing her butt muscles more than necessary, presumably to maximize her workout.\n\nThey came to the bottom of a spiral staircase. \"This one here,\" said Jeremy. He pointed to the upper right corner of the door, which had a red-brown smudge.\n\n\"Blood,\" said Tina.\n\nThe doors highlighted in the map were marked. A smudge on the top right corner meant that you'd next take the door immediately to the left. A smudge on the lower left meant you'd take the door to your right.\n\nJeremy opened the door. A staircase dropped sharply in front of him. He looked down, spun around, and smiled. \"Music,\" he said. Faint singing and drumming filtered up the staircase.\n\nMaren raised her eyebrows and peered down.\n\n\"No harm in a little jam.\" Jeremy bounced down the stairs in time with the beat, occasionally indulging in one of his famous staircase slides. Tina giggled.\n\nThe bottom of the stairs twisted and a purple light illuminated the wall. Jeremy stopped short when he saw his shadow take a bow. He turned to his shadow and watched it play on the wall. It lifted one foot, and then the other. Now it leapt up high, shaking its fist. Jeremy stared at his shadow. \"I don't look like that, right?\" he said, striking a pose.\n\n\"I'm glad you find the humor in this,\" said Maren dryly.\n\nThey continued down the stairs, and soon Maren, Tina, and the ferret's shadows danced on the wall as well. Lyrna didn't have a shadow. She growled.\n\n\"What is this?\" said Maren, shading her eyes and looking across the room at the source of the purple light.\n\n\"Music and dancing, probably some jolly ghost jamboree.\"\n\nMaren gave him a concerned look. \"You're not making any sense.\"\n\nJeremy stepped forward. He could see now that the purple light emanated from a stone fountain bubbling in the center of the room. The music, strangely, was also coming from the fountain instead of the expected gurgle. The purple pulsed slightly as Jeremy approached it. \"Hey, ferret!\" He spun around. \"Is the art scene any good down here?\" The ferret was gone.\n\nJeremy frowned and stepped closer to the pool. He felt deja vu and leaned over the water and flicked it with his finger. The ripples rushed to the edge, as though the fountain was getting excited. He leaned in further now, and the music beat in sync with his heart. The music grew louder and closer, and he now felt it distinctly. It was savage and visceral—dense polyrhythmic drums underneath, hollow voices in the middle, and flutes on top, darting in and out.\n\n\"Jeremy?\" Maren stepped forward.\n\nBut Jeremy could barely hear her, so consumed was he with the sound of his heart, the music, and the purple swirls. A skeletal hand shimmered below the surface of the water, then burst through and grabbed Jeremy by the collar, pulling him down. Jeremy drifted into a dream. He was alone in a room with Dr. Adler. The good doctor was strapped to a chair, unconscious, and there was a lamp with a narrow beam focused on his face. Jeremy slapped him hard.\n\n\"Wha—Jeremy, what's going on!\"\n\n\"Oh, how nice of you to join me. I was just thinking about what you said, about how sometimes troublesome thoughts need to be executed. Because you helped me so much with my personal demons, I'd like to return the favor. In fact, I've discovered an entire region of your brain that is troublesome. I mean the prefrontal cortex, of course. I wonder what it would be like to have your prefrontal cortex removed and to still be alive, assuming that's even possible. Worth a try I would say.\"\n\n\"Oh my God, Jeremy you don't need to do this!\"\n\n\"I'm the doctor now, and my professional judgment determines what is necessary.\"\n\nJeremy was holding a scalpel. He made an incision in the forehead as the man screamed. Then the vision began to fade into another vision. Jeremy was face to face with a hooded demon with a dull gray aura, the skeletal face of a cow shrouded in darkness. The first vision was seeping out of Jeremy's head in wisps, and entering the hood of the demon. Beneath them was a sea of demons whispering. Black wisps from the clouds were slowly seeping towards the crowd.\n\nJeremy flung his body back, tearing his shirt and falling on the floor. \"Demons!\" he shouted. Tina screamed.\n\n\"Apollyon's animus,\" breathed the demon as it wriggled out from the purple fountain, leaving a ghastly trail of smoke in its wake. Jeremy could see now that the purple fountain was a portal to the Haze. The demon stretched out across the room.\n\n\"Through here!\" yelled Maren, and she threw a door open that led to another descending staircase. Jeremy sprang to his feet and raced down the stairs after Maren. Tina and Lyrna followed. Before the door shut behind them, Jeremy glanced back and saw that more demons were slipping through the portal and into the Maze. They were rallying. The door closed with a thud.\n\nMaren hastily threw open one door and then the other. \"We're still on track, let's go!\"\n\n\"Maren!\" Jeremy grabbed her hand and pulled her to the floor. They were wedged under a sharp rock that jutted out from the wall.\n\n\"I memorized the sequence for a couple of doors, we're okay!\" explained Maren.\n\nBut Jeremy could see that Maren was not okay, and that she was shaking. \"Lyrna, any ideas as to what's going on?\"\n\nLyrna snuggled between him and Maren, and Tina crawled in after.\n\n\"Haze pierced.\"\n\n\"Has that happened before?\"\n\nLyrna hesitated. \"Yes... but different.\"\n\n\"How so?\"\n\nLyrna growled and wrinkled her nose. \"Hole no accident.\"\n\nMaren leaned in towards Jeremy. \"What did you see on the wall?\"\n\n\"Huh?\"\n\n\"You were admiring your shadow.\"\n\n\"My shadow was dancing to the music.\"\n\n\"What music?\" Maren frowned.\n\n\"You didn't hear the music? I danced down the stairs to it, it was like my heart beat, only jazzier.\"\n\nLyrna pressed her paw on Jeremy's lap. \"Demons need you, pierce Haze.\"\n\n\"So I let them in?\" Jeremy stood up abruptly and smacked his head on the rock wall above him. He cursed and reeled in pain.\n\n\"We have to go,\" said Tina.\n\n\"Tina's right,\" said Maren. \"Let's just get some supplies for Fedonis and head back straight away. Lyrna, are you ready?\"\n\nLyrna hissed, but nodded. Maren pulled out the map and pointed to a series of doors. \"Left, left, right, straight through. Let's make a run for it. No waiting to see what lies behind the door; nothing is worse than what's behind us.\"\n\nThey ran quickly, barely noticing each room as they passed. One room flashed red and orange; another was plain; still another was arranged to be asymmetric so that it felt like they were running sideways.\n\nWhen they arrived at a room with mirrors, they rested to take in the next set of directions. Maren pulled her knees to her chin as she sat on the floor and watched Tina study the watch. \"So?\"\n\n\"The clock says it's a little past two. We have five hours to make it there, get some trinkets or whatever, and get back to that old man. We're almost there, right?\"\n\nLyrna puffed and did a backflip. Jeremy raised his eyebrows. \"Yes?\"\n\n\"Worm.\" Lyrna rested her chin on the floor. Two feet in front of her was an inch worm. It paused, and then continued inching its way towards a tall mirror just behind Maren.\n\nJeremy pondered the inch worm. \"Is it dangerous?\" he said at last. \"Is it... special?\"\n\n\"Worm very old,\" said Lyrna.\n\n\"Is that a problem?\" Jeremy bit his lip and suspiciously eyed up the inch worm.\n\n\"Worm many soul parts,\" said Lyrna. \"Many lives.\" Lyrna felt each universe of memories simultaneously and let out a sad mew.\n\n\"Oh Lyrna!\" Maren placed her hand over her mouth. \"Maybe you could help it?\"\n\n\"Good want Haze. Bad want Maze.\" Lyrna flattened her ears. She felt the acute pull of her duty, and suddenly pounced on the worm and disappeared into the Haze.\n\n\"Oh Lyrna! Stupid cat!\" Jeremy paced back and forth. \"What if she brings a demon back?\" But Lyrna appeared in front of him.\n\n\"Worm split into five-hundred.\"\n\n\"And the demons?\"\n\n\"Demons in line. Demons enter Maze portal.\"\n\nJeremy closed his eyes and saw the line of dark, robed figures, each with its hand spread out before it, parting the Haze. He shivered. \"How many?\"\n\n\"Like stars,\" replied Lyrna.\nChapter 25\n\nThe Dragon's Horn\n\nIt took another hour to maneuver through the Maze, but they knew the door without even consulting the map. It had a pulsating vibration, like the room itself was breathing. Jeremy pushed the door open and they all slipped through, backs against the wall. It was a large room, seemingly without end. The ceilings were low and were held up by marble pillars. There was a dampness to the place, like a whispered conversation in close quarters. Gold chests littered the floor of the room.\n\n\"Intimate,\" said Jeremy.\n\nLyrna meowed. \"I start?\"\n\nJeremy nodded sadly and gave his thanks. Maren and Tina followed suit. Together they watched as Lyrna slinked away, crouching low to the ground. She approached a gold chest some twenty feet away, leaned up on it, and pressed her body against its hinges. It didn't move. She turned back to Jeremy.\n\n\"Use your paws,\" he offered a little more loudly than he'd meant, ducking down with a guilty look on his face.\n\nLyrna pawed at the chest hinge, batting it with increasing vigor. The small, rapid movements were pathetic. Jeremy sighed.\n\n\"This isn't going to work. We need to use our hands.\"\n\nLyrna backed up, her fur slightly raised, and then she charged the chest. She disappeared.\n\nJeremy bit his lip. \"What's she up to now?\"\n\nThe chest rattled slightly, then stopped. Something meowed inside. Jeremy, Maren, and Tina stared on. In the silence that followed, they could make out a distant scream from somewhere in the far reaches of the room. Lyrna appeared in front of them.\n\nJeremy, startled, pushed back against the wall. \"Hey, what happened?\"\n\nLyrna flattened her ears. \"Inside chest. Silver brush in Haze separate!\"\n\nJeremy sighed, \"Of course. There was a piece of a soul in the brush?\"\n\n\"Three. Cheetah take woman. Bear take bit of man. Third bit—demon eat.\" Lyrna shivered.\n\n\"Ugh!\" Jeremy massaged his temples. \"We didn't think this through so well. And there's no way you could contain the object when you got into the Haze?\"\n\n\"No. Souls want sort.\" Lyrna mewed sadly.\n\n\"Maybe we shouldn't mess with the objects,\" said Maren, standing now. \"I mean, I don't much like the business of dealing in souls.\"\n\nJeremy turned on her. \"Don't you remember what we've learned about demons, Maren? When they eat you, you go straight to Hell. We'll let Lyrna sort the soul parts later. In the meantime, we need the leverage. We need Fedonis's protection against the demons!\"\n\nMaren opened her mouth to protest, but Jeremy ran off to the nearest chest. He flipped the latch and threw the lid back. A thin, yellow vapor rose in the air and Jeremy pulled his head away. Maren and Tina called out to him.\n\n\"It's nothing,\" said Jeremy. \"Just dust, I think. The chest is empty.\"\n\n\"It would be,\" murmured Tina, tossing back her hair. \"Fedonis said, you know, that this place has been picked over. We'll have to go far back to get to new objects.\"\n\nThe party waded through a sea of chests.\n\nJeremy stooped down and laid his ear on the top of a chest. Silence. \"Okay, wish me luck.\" He took a deep breath and then worked quickly to unlatch the chest. Inside, he found a pile of multi-colored rocks. \"Strange,\" he said, fingering a stone. \"It's almost like a plum pit. See? It's not entirely solid.\" He passed the stone back to Tina, who cradled it in her hands. Maren declined. Lyrna growled and looked away, feeling the trapped soul within.\n\n\"And here,\" Jeremy hopped to the next chest over. He pulled at the hinges and shook the chest. Nothing. \"Locked.\" He attempted to lift the chest, but found that it was too heavy. \"I could,\" he was quick to add, \"but I don't want to hurt my back.\"\n\n\"Let me have a try,\" Tina offered.\n\nJeremy pointed to a small hole in the lock, and Tina poked at it with her acrylic nail. \"I could break a nail,\" she said, laughing. \"I mean, I'm offering—you know, like, I could break one of my nails and we could use it as a lock pick.\"\n\n\"A true martyr,\" said Maren.\n\nLyrna and Maren watched Jeremy and Tina fiddle with the lock. \"Lyrna?\" Maren whispered. \"Are the souls sad? When they're contained in the brush, are they sad?\"\n\n\"Some, yes. Some angry. Some very happy. But wants sorted, always.\"\n\nMaren wondered if they should accept protection in exchange for enslaved soul remains. Why were their lives more valuable than others? Unless Jeremy was truly an agent of God's will. But that was just one theory. And even if he was, what justification could she offer? She wasn't special.\n\nA stream of light shot upwards, and Tina fell back. Jeremy towered over her, his hair on end and electric.\n\n\"Got it!\" he yelled. He threw back the lid to the chest and crouched down to inspect the chest's contents.\n\n\"How did you—\" began Maren.\n\n\"Fried it. But look at this! Lyrna, is it a good soul?\" Jeremy lifted up what looked like a lopsided attempt at a bowl. It was brown and had rings of different thickness banded around it.\n\nLyrna crept over to him. There was a low growl in her throat. \"Very bad,\" she whispered.\n\n\"Oh?\" Jeremy frowned. \"But maybe it's powerful, since it was locked up?\"\n\n\"Belong in Hell,\" said Lyrna.\n\n\"But we need to figure out what it does.\" Jeremy protectively wrapped his arms around the bowl, shielding it from Lyrna. \"You can sort it later.\"\n\nMaren stood up. \"Jeremy, Lyrna doesn't like it. See how puffed she is?\"\n\n\"Of course I can read the emotions of my own fizdruft.\" Jeremy passed the bowl back to Tina, who graciously accepted it. \"We'll take the bowl back to Fedonis, see if it means anything to him, and get protection from the demons. Then Lyrna can steal it back and sort it.\"\n\n\"Lyrna is celestial; you're asking her to go against her nature.\"\n\nJeremy smiled a wicked little smile. \"Lyrna is loyal and patient.\"\n\nTina had wandered four chests over. She called out to Jeremy in her most sultry voice. \"This one's locked too. I bet it has a powerful rock inside. You and I should do this one, Jeremy.\"\n\n\"I think I will.\" Jeremy smirked and strode over to the locked chest.\n\nMaren set her lips in a tight line. \"Lyrna, Tina's enabling him to be a bastard.\"\n\n\"Own person,\" mewed Lyrna.\n\nMaren frowned and tucked her blonde hair behind her ears. She watched Tina laugh and twirl around Jeremy. \"Anyway, I'm staying here. He knows where to find me.\"\n\nJeremy and Tina could just make out Maren and Lyrna, who were now small figures in the distance. Tina's arms were filled with numerous objects, all retrieved from locked chests. \"This one really is beautiful,\" she said, holding up a gold necklace.\n\n\"They always are,\" said Jeremy with a sideways glance.\n\nTina blushed. She tossed her hair in front of her and attempted to scrunch it. Some of the objects in her arms fell to the hard stone floor with a crash.\n\nJeremy laughed. \"What are you doing?\"\n\nTina whipped her hair back, and an object that had gotten tangled in her loose brown curls smacked her shoulder. \"Ouch!\"\n\nNow Jeremy laughed even louder and Tina laughed too.\n\n\"Just scrunching my hair,\" said Tina at last as she caught her breath.\n\n\"Preening,\" he offered.\n\n\"Maybe....\" Tina drew in a sharp breath. She took a step closer to him and set the pile of objects down at her feet. \"But what did you mean by beautiful?\"\n\n\"Hm?\" Jeremy squinted at her and shook his head.\n\n\"I said that the necklace was beautiful and you said... something.\"\n\nJeremy grinned. \"Oh, I see.\"\n\n\"What do you see?\" Tina looked at him pleadingly.\n\n\"Tina, I only meant that dangerous things are often beautiful.\"\n\n\"Oh.\" Tina looked down and then back at Maren and Lyrna. \"Maren's pretty, huh? I don't think of her as dangerous. Do you?\"\n\n\"No, not her.\" Jeremy shook his head and looked down at his feet. He had a strained expression on his face.\n\nThis gesture only emboldened Tina. \"Do you think I'm... dangerous?\"\n\nJeremy inhaled sharply and ran his fingers through his hair. \"Tina, this isn't the time or place.\"\n\n\"So you do? You think I'm beautiful? Because I think you're gorgeous, and, I mean, of course you are, and you know this. But I think there's something between us—\"\n\n\"Tina—\"\n\n\"—and I'd do anything for you. I've known since the moment I—\"\n\n\"Tina—\"\n\n\"—met you. I'd make you so happy! And Maren's so cold to you; she's not half as affectionate as I am! I'd kiss you all the time, everywhere, and I'd let you hold me so tight. You could do whatever you want to me—\"\n\n\"Tina, enough!\" Jeremy looked up at the ceiling, which was impossibly high in this section of the Dragon's Horn, and then off in the distance. He kicked an object gently with his foot, and it turned over. \"You remind me of a time, of some people....\"\n\nTina's eyes glazed over with tears, but she waited expectantly.\n\n\"When I was at the Donegall estate, there were women there—lots of women—who were... What I mean is we were...\"\n\n\"The Donegall estate? In New York? Were you an actor or a model?\"\n\n\"That Donegall estate, yes. I was the er... resident artist.\"\n\n\"You were Jacey Moon! Of course, you disappeared with Maren. It was all over the news! I should have known you were Jacey Moon!\"\n\n\"Listen, Tina. I was kept there for three years. Ms. Donegall had plans for me to be a male escort. The women there...\" Jeremy sighed and checked to see Tina's reaction. She hadn't comprehended it.\n\n\"There were women there, just like you, Tina. They were desperate to enter the entertainment industry, or to become models. They wanted constant validation. They lived there, at the Donegall estate with me, only they were escorts, not models.\"\n\n\"Oh... So then?\"\n\n\"I wasn't a prostitute, yet. But I was being phased in. They were waiting for me to turn eighteen. But I would give private performances, dance, sing. I had some photography work done, all very classy, I guess.\" Jeremy rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand. \"Christ, why am I telling you this?\"\n\n\"It's okay. I think I understand.\" Tina bit her lip and sighed. \"I've been taken advantage of more times than I care to remember.\"\n\nJeremy let out a soft laugh and slid down to the floor beside her. \"Me too.\"\n\nTina sniffled. \"I mean, people can be so aggressive.\"\n\n\"They prey on desperation. I wanted to be loved and adored. What are you after, Tina? I mean, what are you really after?\"\n\nTina's eyes glazed over with tears. \"You think I'm desperate?\"\n\n\"Don't sell yourself short. You're smart, charming, and beautiful.\" Jeremy wrapped his arms around her and she sniffled.\nChapter 26\n\nI See You\n\nMaren blinked. Did he really have his arms wrapped around Tina? \"Why?\" she whispered. Maren jumped to her feet, and before she could stop herself, she yelled at the top of her lungs, \"Let's go back to Fedonis, you two!\" There was a rustling from the ceiling, and first they thought it was raining. Something dropped on Maren's hand, but it wasn't water; it was guano. A flock of flying creatures, similar to bats but magenta in color, swooped down from above, and the air was thick with noise and movement. Maren crouched low and threw her hands up over her head, while Lyrna leapt in the air, hissing and swatting at the winged creatures. After a few minutes, the bats dispersed, but had left their mark on Maren's skin, and worse, her hair.\n\nWhen the air cleared, Jeremy and Tina appeared with their arms full of all manner of trinkets and objects. Jeremy sighed heavily as Maren pulled herself up off the floor. \"What was that all about? You realize how ridiculously stupid that was, right?\"\n\n\"I've realized a lot of things,\" she said coldly, turning away from him.\n\n\"We really should be going,\" said Tina, brushing against Jeremy's shoulder. \"Nice outfit, Maren.\"\n\nJeremy raised his hands over his head and shot out three blasts of electricity. The blasts sizzled on the damp wall, causing the whole wall to light up for a moment. \"There. Now I'm the reckless one and order has been restored.\" Jeremy smiled at Maren and brushed the back of his hand against her cheek. She turned her head away.\n\nAs they were walking, it occurred to them that they'd better figure out an alternate route so as not to pass by the Haze portal. \"We have to avoid the demons at all costs.\"\n\nMaren took a swig of oasis water from her bottle and then traced her finger across the map. \"I don't see another path. This Maze is impossible.\" Maren held out the bottle and shook it. \"Anybody want some?\" she said to no one in particular.\n\n\"Hey, Maren.\" Jeremy carefully slid the bottle out of Maren's outstretched hand. \"Is everything okay?\"\n\n\"I just want to get back to Fedonis's. I just want—\" Maren stopped and rubbed her eyes. \"I need sleep. I want normalcy, a routine. I want to get out of this Maze. To want is to live, Jeremy.\"\n\n\"You never say my name unless you're yelling at me.\" Jeremy smiled. \"I like to hear it spoken in a soft tone.\"\n\nMaren threw her arms up. \"I saw you two hugging. I'm glad that it's so easy for you to find romance, Jeremy, but this has never been the time or the place. You can't mix love and gore. That's sick.\"\n\n\"Maren, what are you talking—\"\n\n\"I saw you, Jeremy!\"\n\n\"So I hugged Tina! She was upset.\"\n\nTina frowned. \"He said I was beautiful.\"\n\n\"And you are; you both are! But Maren, I'm with you.\"\n\n\"Lucky me!\" Maren glared at him.\n\n\"Why are you with her?\" said Tina. \"All she does is nag you and ignore your talents. She's prude. You can't even open up to her!\" Tina clawed at his shirt.\n\nJeremy rolled his eyes and started walking. Tina and Maren followed, while Lyrna circled cautiously around the party. \"Now, now, there's more than enough of me to go around the Jeremy Fan Club,\" he sang out, wagging his finger in the air. Blue sparks shot out from his fingertips.\n\n\"No play,\" hissed Lyrna.\n\n\"I'm not playing, Lyrna. I'm embracing madness.\" Jeremy laughed. \"Women are crazy.\" Jeremy pushed open a door. \"We're right through here, this way.\" He held it open and Maren walked through, her cheeks stained a bright pink. Tina made a pouty face at him as she passed. They had entered the mirror room.\n\n\"Why are you being so mean?\" Tina slid to the floor, her back against a mirror. \"I'm not budging until you stop being weird.\"\n\n\"Tell me, have you been curing hats with mercury? I'd like an olive green one.\" Jeremy smirked and crossed his arms.\n\nMaren sat on her heels facing a mirror. She combed her blonde hair with her fingers and stared at her reflection. She made her face stoic.\n\n\"Maren, you look like a mermaid, now that you've gotten all the bat shit off.\" Jeremy placed his hands on her shoulders and stroked her hair. She turned on him.\n\n\"Just stop it, okay!\" Maren pursed her lips. \"You're acting like a child. Get your hands off me.\"\n\n\"Jeremy, why won't you be with me?\" whined Tina from across the room.\n\n\"Both of you are being so difficult.\" Jeremy whistled the Watican royal anthem.\n\n\"No, Jeremy,\" said Maren. \"You're being difficult. There's something seriously wrong with you.\"\n\nJeremy reached for Maren again but Tina flung herself between them.\n\n\"Don't talk to him like that!\" yelled Tina, placing her hands on her hips. \"There's nothing wrong with him! He was raped and it wasn't his fault!\"\n\n\"How discreet, Tina,\" Jeremy massaged his forehead. \"Everyone just relax.\"\n\nMaren looked from Jeremy to Tina, and then back at Jeremy. \"What is she talking about?\"\n\nTina stepped protectively in front of Jeremy. \"When he was at the Donegall Estate, he was raped. He told me.\"\n\n\"Jeremy?\" Maren shook her head.\n\n\"What? I never said that! You're taking things out of context. I don't want to talk about this.\"\n\n\"Why didn't you tell me?\"\n\n\"And I was raped, too,\" blurted Tina. \"So I know what it can do to you. You don't understand, Maren. You'll never understand!\" Tina started crying and balled up on the floor.\n\nJeremy froze. \"I shouldn't have said anything. I don't even know why—\"\n\n\"How old were you?\" asked Maren.\n\n\"Leave it alone. I never said I was raped.\" Jeremy watched the mirror in front of him as the words came out of his mouth. \"It was nothing,\" he said with no inflection.\n\nTina sat up from the floor, her hand wrapped firmly around a heart-shaped horn. \"It has two ends,\" she said between sobs, \"like it was made for us, Jeremy. See? It's a heart. We found it together. I blow in here, and you...\" Tina brought the horn up to her lips.\n\nMaren's eyes widened and she lurched forward, but it was too late. Tina had blown into the horn. A deep, rounded sound reverberated through the room.\n\nTina looked at the horn as she held it firmly in her hands. It began to vibrate. She dropped it on her lap. She looked up. \"Jeremy?\" Jeremy was standing across the room with an empty expression spread across his face. He hung there as though on a hook, and stared dully at Tina.\n\n\"Yes?\" said Jeremy, who was sitting quietly beside Tina.\n\n\"But you're—\" She pointed across the room, but only saw herself reflected in the mirrors.\n\n\"The Dragon's Horn,\" whispered Maren. \"Everyone, close your eyes!\"\n\n\"But why...?\" Tina stared at Maren and Jeremy; both were squinting ridiculously. Then Tina noticed again in her peripheral vision that someone was standing across the room. She blinked, and it was gone. But when she looked away again, there he was—the same electric blue eyes, wavy hair, jeans, and pink button-down shirt. The face bore a bizarre expression. A chill went up her spine. \"Jeremy!\" She shut her eyes tight. \"What... what's it going to do?\" she breathed.\n\n\"I don't know,\" said Maren.\n\n\"Tina?\" whispered Jeremy.\n\n\"Y-yes?\"\n\n\"Did you see me somewhere?\"\n\n\"You were... over there in the corner.\" Tina began to sob again.\n\n\"Maren, what does that mean? She saw my doppelganger. What does that mean?!\"\n\n\"Um...\" Maren felt around for Jeremy's hand and slid closer to him. \"If she saw a double of you... it's a bad omen.\"\n\n\"Lyrna!\" Jeremy called out to his fizdruft. \"Lyrna, are you here?\"\n\n\"Maren,\" said Lyrna.\n\n\"Yes?\" Maren could hear herself breathing in quick bursts.\n\n\"Don't open eyes.\" Lyrna growled. Maren's doppelganger had appeared in front of a mirror, and was staring at them from across the room, a strange smile on its face, head cocked to the side.\n\n\"Wh-why?\" asked Maren.\n\nLyrna scurried across the floor and leapt about. A few seconds of commotion passed. Maren could hear that it was closer. \"Won't go away,\" said Lyrna, hissing.\n\n\"Who won't go away?\" Maren was shivering.\n\n\"Maren now in front of you,\" said Lyrna. Maren's doppelganger slowly leaned over Maren, still smiling. Its long hair swung forward and brushed Maren's face, it's hair mixing with Maren's own. Maren began to hear a whisper in her head. Open them and see me, we belong together, it said. She saw an image of herself in her mind's eye, smiling back at her, head cocked. The doppelganger's eyes were wide and blank. They bore down on Maren's lids, pleading with her to stare back. A cold hand grasped hers.\n\nHorrified, Maren fell back on the floor and turned her face onto the stone. She protectively wrapped her arms around her head. Too afraid to cry, she gasped for air. There was a long silence.\n\n\"Leaving, Maren!\" meowed Lyrna. \"Walking away! Gone!\"\n\nMaren sobbed freely now and felt Jeremy's warm hand rubbing her back.\n\n\"It's gone,\" he said.\n\nMaren, Jeremy, and Tina sat in silence for some time before opening their eyes.\nChapter 27\n\nSafe\n\nThe rest of the trip back to Fedonis's passed quickly. They convinced themselves that Maren was safe because she hadn't actually made eye contact with her doppelganger. To do so portended one's own death. Jeremy's doppelganger, however, because it was sighted by Tina, revealed that Jeremy was in danger. He shrugged his shoulders. \"Not news to me.\"\n\nBoth Tina and Maren wanted to discard the Dragon's Horn in the mirror room, but Jeremy insisted that they take it. He held it firmly under his arm now, and walked briskly to the doors that led to Fedonis's chambers.\n\nFedonis, sensing their arrival, was leaning up against the door. As Jeremy pushed the doors open, the old man toppled over.\n\n\"Ah! And just on time!\" said the hermit from the floor.\n\n\"Sorry,\" said Jeremy, offering Fedonis a hand.\n\n\"Tish tosh tush. What wares have you for me, hrm?\" Fedonis pushed off from the floor with his gnarled cane and sniffed at Jeremy's underarm.\n\nJeremy pulled the Dragon's Horn away. \"I'm keeping this for myself,\" he said. \"But we've found these.\" He held out his other arm. He was holding small rocks, iridescent seashells, a small dagger, and leather shoes. Tina held out her spoils as well―a jar filled with yellow cream, metallic flower petals, and a necklace.\n\n\"Ah!\" The hermit rubbed his hands together. Some dead skin cells flaked onto the leather shoes, and noticing that he was in dire need of exfoliation, he began to vigorously scrub at his elbows to rid himself of the skin.\n\nJeremy, appalled, dropped the shoes, and this seemed to bring Fedonis back to the present.\n\n\"And you wanted my protection, yes, hrm?\" Fedonis's eyes fell on the Dragon's Horn. \"Well it's that I'll be wanting.\"\n\n\"No,\" said Jeremy.\n\n\"We'll think about it,\" interrupted Maren.\n\nThis seemed to pacify the hermit and he shambled back to his makeshift storefront. \"Hungry?\"\n\nJeremy, Maren, and Tina gathered around him. Lyrna began to groom herself.\n\n\"Jerky? Nuts? Pestra bread? And of course the oasis has all the nutrients you'll need, but have a chew.\" Fedonis passed a large basket to Jeremy and they all began to grab at whatever looked edible. \"I've got four rooms to put you up in. Unless, of course, less rooms would suffice,\" Fedonis shouted, fiercely waggling his eyebrows.\n\n\"Four rooms would be just fine,\" said Maren.\n\nFedonis pulled a ladder up from a loose stone and began to rotate a lever on its side. The ladder grew taller and taller. At last, Fedonis set the ladder against the stone wall.\n\nFedonis climbed the rickety ladder and stopped four stones up. He slid a stone aside and gestured for everyone to take a peek. \"In here. Make yourselves at home. You'll see a well-lit corridor, with four doors on one end, and four on the other. Hrm? Got that?\"\n\n\"Yes, thank you sir,\" said Maren.\n\nFedonis tipped an invisible hat. \"Wash and fill up at the oasis before you get settled in now.\"\n\nJeremy, Maren, Tina, and Lyrna made their way swiftly to the oasis and filled their canteens. After returning and climbing the ladder, they walked slowly through the corridor of their new residence, noting Fedonis's paintings on the wall, which were mostly self-portraits. It was decided that Jeremy would take the center room, Tina would be on his left, and Maren and Lyrna would be on his right (Jeremy insisted that Maren sleep with Lyrna).\n\nAfter Fedonis sprinkled a bit of protective charm dust and uttered an awkwardly long formula, Tina crawled into her room. Jeremy went to join Maren and Lyrna. \"Just for a second,\" he said.\n\nMaren crawled into her small room first and Jeremy followed. Lyrna waited until they'd settled before curling up in a ball at the base of the bed. The room was just big enough for a single bed, and just tall enough to sit up in. \"Pretty claustrophobic,\" said Maren, shivering slightly.\n\n\"Should I leave? I just feel like we haven't had any time alone together.\" Jeremy took a sip from his canteen. \"Hey―is my hair getting too long for you?\"\n\n\"Oh?\" Maren shook her head and laughed softly. His hair always looked perfect, no matter the length. \"You're all right.\"\n\n\"You're so much more to me,\" he said in a mawkish voice.\n\nMaren blushed and leaned back against the wall. \"Jeremy, you always push the envelope, and too soon. Can we just―\"\n\n\"I'm always chasing, Maren. When's it going to end? When will you feel comfortable with me?\" Jeremy set his blue eyes on her and parted his lips to speak, but said nothing.\n\nMaren closed her eyes tightly. She wanted to blink back all of the raw, jumbled feelings. This was a time of war, and she couldn't allow herself to be weak, to be weakened by this fickle and magnetic boy who had beguiled her for so long. But then, hadn't there always been love in times of war? Wasn't love the engine of courage? Or was love the last thought of a fool? \"The backdrop to our lives is pretty epic,\" she said at last. \"I'm sorry if I distance myself from you. I imagine you must be lonely. I...\" Maren looked down at her lap. \"I'm sorry about what happened at Ms. Donegall's.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" Jeremy sounded embarrassed. \"It's okay.\"\n\n\"And something else happened too, didn't it?\"\n\n\"Hmm?\"\n\n\"Before your time at Ms. Donegall's. After we returned to Earth and while I was staying with my Earth family, Bruce―that's my Earth father―told me that you were accused of murder. There was a boy....\"\n\n\"Jason Truitt,\" said Jeremy sadly. \"Yeah, I um...\" He scratched the back of his head and then started rubbing a piece of the sheets between his fingers.\n\n\"It's okay,\" said Maren. \"I believe you're innocent.\"\n\n\"Well I'm not.\" Jeremy looked away. \"I mean, it was self-defense. Not even―it was an accident. He had the gun, he had it pointed at me, and I tried to...\" Something caught in Jeremy's throat, and Maren placed her hand on his knee.\n\n\"Whatever you've gone through, you need to grieve.\"\n\n\"I don't need to do anything,\" said Jeremy. There was a defensive edge to his voice. \"It's all predetermined, don't you see? I could just sit, and do absolutely nothing, and fate would find me. I mean, I drove a plane to Leviathan Island! Somehow, right? I meet Mantel, and look―I'm here again! And all I want is for you to treat me like I'm just a person that you like. But,\" Jeremy held his hand up to prevent her from protesting, \"if I'm not your type, please don't pity me.\"\n\n\"You are! I don't have a type, but I like you a lot.\"\n\nAt that moment, Lyrna let out a soft growl and scurried out the door.\n\nJeremy watched her exit and smiled to himself. \"You think I'm a jerk. You're probably right.\"\n\n\"Not anymore. You're excusable on every count.\" Maren crossed her arms defiantly.\n\n\"Well,\" he said after a brief pause, \"that's the best I'm going to get.\" Jeremy pushed Maren back on the bed and pressed her arms up over her head. She narrowed her eyes at him, but he only leaned in closer. He kissed her now, and her heart fluttered. Maren could feel her body flush with warmth, but she didn't resist. In a word, kissing Jeremy Chikalto was divine.\nChapter 28\n\nGuest of Honor\n\nA few days passed by without much activity. The items that Jeremy and Tina had brought back for Fedonis proved useful, and Fedonis hummed and sang, never on key, whenever he played with them. Already, Fedonis had concocted a useful potion from the soul remains capable of cloaking its drinker with temporary invisibility. Even though the coverage only lasted a minute, the potion sold quickly and Fedonis's business was booming as word spread throughout the Maze. The four adventurers avoided Fedonis's customers, though, in an attempt to maintain a low profile just in case Mantel and the demons didn't already know their whereabouts.\n\nLyrna periodically checked the Haze for demons and found that their numbers were increasing.\n\n\"Building up to the inevitable, I suppose,\" said Jeremy.\n\nStill, the party had found sufficient protection under Fedonis's care, and enjoyed a routine. It wasn't until their tenth day of relaxing, that Fedonis broke the news.\n\n\"I reckon your share of the profits will run out in about a week's time. You'd better plan another trip to the Dragon's Horn if you want to continue to stay. Hrm....\" Fedonis twirled his beard around his finger. \"Unless you let me have a look at that goodie you've been keeping. I'll extend your vacation for another two weeks if you let me have a peek. And of course I'll be wanting to fiddle with it.\"\n\nMaren and Tina remained silent on the subject. Jeremy shrugged and said, \"I'll think about it.\" And he meant to.\n\nLater that night, after Maren, Lyrna, and Tina had fallen asleep, Jeremy laid a letter on his pillow and snuck down the ladder and out of Fedonis's storefront to the oasis. He packed a small, leather bag full of snacks and filled his canteen. The demons were coming for him; this he knew.\n\nJeremy held his map up and squinted. Mantel's chambers could be reached in less than a day. He sighed and then thrust open a door.\n\n\"Hello!\" said the ferret.\n\n\"Ah,\" said Jeremy. \"Not a coincidence?\"\n\nThe ferret looked behind Jeremy. \"Alone? Good. I've been waiting for you every night.\"\n\n\"Of course you have,\" grumbled Jeremy. \"Lead the way.\"\n\nThe ferret smiled and its cheeks puffed up merrily. \"Best decision, of course! Mantel needs to see you. After the demon hordes broke into the Maze, I had to go and warn him.\"\n\n\"You're referring to the time you made a tactical retreat?\" Jeremy smirked.\n\n\"Er... yes, but really, this is all best left to Mantel. He knows what to do. He needs you. And you need him too.\"\n\n\"I'm not so sure,\" said Jeremy. \"But that's why I'm talking with him.\"\n\n\"And,\" the ferret skidded in front of Jeremy. \"You'll be wanting to take this door to expedite your journey. Your map has you running in circles. We've got a portal set up. It'll take you directly to Mantel. This way.\"\n\nJeremy frowned, still cradling the Dragon's Horn under his arm, and followed the ferret through a set of doors. A mere ten minute journey brought them to a hot spring. Steam rose high in the air and the room smelled like sulfur. \"The old rotten egg tunnel,\" he said. \"I take it I just jump in here?\"\n\n\"Yes, after you.\"\n\nJeremy eyed the ferret suspiciously.\n\n\"Or after me.\" The ferret hesitated. \"Do follow.\" The ferret jumped into the hot spring and disappeared.\n\nJeremy stood over the hot spring and thought of Maren, still asleep. He hoped Lyrna was sprawled out across her legs and keeping her warm. Jeremy took a deep breath. He had the Dragon's Horn, after all. Surely that was leverage. Lyrna had observed that it wasn't, in fact, infused with soul remains, so Jeremy concluded that it couldn't be sorted in the Haze. If that was the case, and Mantel wanted it, he could quickly stow it away in the Haze as a bargaining chip with Mantel. He risked attracting demons, but his face-off with Mantel could prove just as deadly. If it was a risk he was going to take, he would take it alone. Maren, Lyrna, and Tina would remain safe at Fedonis's―he hoped.\n\n\"Here goes,\" said Jeremy, and he stepped over the ledge of the pool. The steam immediately gave way to an expansive tunnel as he floated downward. He opened his eyes and watched as the rock formations were lit up intermittently by lava torches. As he neared the exit, his descent slowed and he glided onto a rock bed. Immediately, the \"portal\" or hot spring, closed up, revealing no trace of its existence.\n\n\"Mantel's waiting,\" called the ferret as it disappeared behind a wall that jutted out in the center of the room. Jeremy's mouth went dry and he took a quick swig from his canteen. He took a deep breath and attempted to relax. I'm an angel. I'm more powerful than Mantel. I have leverage.\n\nJeremy rounded the corner and saw Mantel seated at a large table. The room was magnificently adorned and fashioned like a cathedral. Stained glass was backlit by something, displaying the Cain and Abel story in countless perspectives. In the center of the ceiling, directly above Mantel, was a depiction of the Apocalypse. However, a frog-like being was standing victorious in the battle, a figure beneath each foot. Under the right foot was a lamb, and under the left was a goat. Behind the frog was a dark angel haloed in lightning.\n\nMantel was larger than before, and tightly muscled. His face was still pink and bubbled, and was now decidedly toad-like. He sat in repose in his black cloak, no waves emanating now. It was almost absurd. He had a saucer in front of him and sipped at what appeared to be tea.\n\n\"Jeremy Chikalto.\"\n\nWithout thinking, Jeremy expanded his energy into a buzzing shield around himself. He approached Mantel cautiously, the field of energy causing the chairs around the table to teeter.\n\nMantel picked up his tea cup, which had spilled slightly, and glared at Jeremy with slitted, red eyes. \"Please, relax. I haven't brought you in for posturing. You must be exhausted from your brave journey. Have a seat.\"\n\n\"I'd rather not,\" said Jeremy.\n\nMantel rose high in the air and drifted slowly towards Jeremy, at last settling on the floor in front of him. Now the air around him shimmered slightly. His dark hood fell back, exposing his pink-gray flesh. A face rose up in his neck, and opened its mouth to scream a voiceless scream, but Mantel coughed it back. A thick purple vein in his neck throbbed from the effort.\n\nJeremy cringed, but resisted the temptation to step back. \"What do you want from me?\"\n\nMantel smiled and held out his hand apologetically. He bowed slightly. \"Your humanity, of course.\" Mantel glided closer to Jeremy, and whispered in a two-toned voice, \"I mean to represent humanity; my allegiance is with the living. I see now you think I'm worse than Satan, but that is dangerously untrue. If I've gone off course, I wish you to bring me back. Tell me, how are your friends?\" The face in Mantel's throat resurfaced and again he coughed it back. \"I beg your pardon. You know how difficult it is to keep children in line.\"\n\n\"There are demons in this Maze. Lots of them. Why do they want me?\" Jeremy set his mouth in a grim line.\n\nMantel paused briefly and then said, \"They want to take you to Hell. You are to join Lucifer soon. But you don't want that, do you?\"\n\n\"How do you know this?\" demanded Jeremy.\n\n\"I have been gathering information for thousands of years. Know that I'm the middle ground, the golden mean. You cannot side with God, for he has forsaken you. Lucifer, we all know, will fall. But I represent the people. I represent consciousness and memory. Don't you want that for your friends? Forever? Look around you.\" Mantle spread his arms wide. \"See how the dead live? See how the soul remains? In here.\" Mantel tapped at his chest. Jeremy supposed he was indicating his heart, but he doubted Mantel had one―or at least not one of his own.\n\n\"What will the demons do to my friends?\"\n\n\"They will eat them and send them to Hell. They are incapable of compassion, unlike us, Apollyon.\"\n\n\"And you can prevent that?\" Jeremy allowed his energy to flicker out.\n\n\"Yes. You can stay here. And once we rid the place of demons, you can travel anywhere you'd like.\"\n\nJeremy hardly believed him, of course, but Mantel did seem to know more about the celestial struggle than himself. \"So what do you want from me? Just my word? How do we get rid of the demons?\"\n\nMantel drifted back to his seat and sat down. \"We must join our powers together and use them against the demons. We'll need to train and develop a strategy, and that could take some time. But first, I think, we simply need rapport. You'll dine with me tomorrow evening? I have guest quarters made up for you―I think you'll find them to your liking.\"\n\n\"I'd prefer to return and come back later. Give me a portal back―\"\n\n\"Back to the old man?\"\n\nJeremy went quiet. How much did Mantel know? \"Y-yes. I'd like to go back and think about this.\"\n\n\"Fedonis's charms are worthless against the demons.\n\nOnly I can protect you from the demons. I have heard, too, that his allegiance is for sale. How long before he makes a deal with the devil?\"\n\n\"All the more reason to go back,\" said Jeremy, taking a step away from Mantel.\n\n\"You can't protect your friends. You'll do Maren, Lyrna, and Tina a disservice going there. The demons want you. I have heard them say your name. They will not bother with your friends if you are here. We'll lure them to us! I have prepared for centuries. You must make your choice. Soon the demons will come to kill you.\"\n\nJeremy found it difficult to swallow. He loosened his grip on the Dragon's Horn and lifted it up for Mantel to see. Mantel smiled.\n\n\"You've found Leviathan's horn?\"\n\nDumbfounded, Jeremy nodded. \"Do you want it?\"\n\n\"It's ours now―a trophy, really. Fate would have you bring it to me. Have you met the sea dragon?\"\n\nJeremy didn't reply.\n\n\"I assume you did. You came in through his vent. I fought Leviathan many years ago. He is meant to be God's sport.\" Mantel laughed and the noise hurt Jeremy's ears. \"God and his angels have marked Leviathan to be their main course at the end of days. They do love the flesh.\" Mantel burped. \"I was a vegetarian once, you see―a gentle gardener. But no, God loves to hunt and kill―for sheer amusement. It is his nature.\" Mantel pushed his tea saucer aside with his pink, bulbous finger buds. \"How best to defy God... Should we kill Leviathan, his sport? Or should we return him his horn, pet him, bring him kelp to eat, and show mercy, something altogether foreign to God?\"\n\nAt that moment, Ms. Fritz, Bentley, and Drew entered the room, their heads bowed in respect. \"Jeremy Chikalto,\" said Ms. Fritz. \"What a pleasure to see you―\"\n\n\"Shut up. Don't address me like an old friend.\" Jeremy flickered again and his hair stood on end. He pulled the Dragon's Horn close to his body.\n\n\"Ah! Apollyon,\" said Mantel. \"They have only come to show you to your room. We'll discuss our Dragon's Horn later. In time, we'll develop an understanding. But now you need your rest. Please.\" Mantel gestured to Ms. Fritz, and Jeremy nodded. \"Fine, I'll sit in this room you have for me. But I won't sleep.\"\n\n\"Excellent! And here comes Jasmine, my flower,\" said Mantel, gesturing towards the door. Jasmine gave a polite wave and smiled. Her brown cheeks looked more rounded than Jeremy had remembered. The hard lines of her face, once angular and elegant, now looked puffed and defeated.\n\nJeremy then noticed how beaten down all the members of the Intergalactic Intelligence Unit had become. Never one to hold back, Jeremy remarked, \"You all look sick. This is a pathetic welcoming party. Show me to my room.\"\n\nMs. Fritz took the lead and ushered Jeremy through a large set of doors encased in silver and gold. Pictures of a harvest pressed on thin pieces of foil decorated the borders. \"This way,\" she called back, feigning cheerfulness. Jeremy vowed to himself that Mantel would never beat the spirit out of him―whatever that spirit was, good or bad.\nChapter 29\n\nHunted\n\nJeremy took a seat in the corner of his room and swatted Ms. Fritz away with his hand. After she closed the door behind her, Jeremy examined the contents of the room. Its furnishings were simple―a single green chair, which he now sat in, occupied the corner of the room. His bed sat against the wall and it had thick orange curtains all around it, except the side closest to the door, which was held open by a carrot-shaped clasp. A small well occupied the other corner of the room, and Jeremy couldn't decide whether this was supposed to be a toilet, a bath, or a drinking fountain.\n\nHe sighed and held up the Dragon's Horn. So he had brought Leviathan's horn to Mantel. Leviathan may have been God's sport, but Mantel thought of the horn as a trophy. The angel Gabriel had said to Jeremy, \"The beast thrives on pride and envy. Whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be exalted. Know your place, Apollyon.\" The words didn't sit well with Jeremy. Jeremy had challenged the sea dragon Leviathan out of necessity. His battle was interrupted by the angel Gabriel. It was Gabriel who threw the beast into the ocean. Was Leviathan the beast? Was Lucifer the beast? Jeremy was well aware that people considered him to be proud to a fault. But envious? Yes, thought Jeremy, there's my true sin. The truth was he didn't want to fight a sea dragon or Mantel or demons. He didn't want divine powers or a throne next to Lucifer. Was Apollyon supposed to lock away Lucifer? What about the creatures that Apollyon supposedly lords over―the scorpion-like amalgamations that torture people―was that his primary role, to torture people? Jeremy Chikalto, the thug of God, to be cast away after the dirty deed was done.... Or was it that Apollyon was Lucifer. Why was the passage so cryptic? Why couldn't Jeremy just sing and dance with Maren? Jeremy envied those without his burden. Humility was a lack of pride, yes, but humility also required obedience. From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded.\n\nJeremy found himself nodding off when the door creaked open. It was Jasmine holding a tray of food.\n\n\"I've just brought you some food,\" she said, tiptoeing closer to him. \"If it's not a good time, I'll leave. I hadn't expected you to sleep.\"\n\n\"Poisoned, I presume?\" Jeremy turned away from the food.\n\n\"Oh no, see?\" Jasmine began eating off the tray at random.\n\n\"Try that piece,\" said Jeremy, leaning forward and gesturing to a piece of broccoli.\n\nJasmine placed it in her mouth, chewed, and swallowed.\n\nJeremy smiled wryly.\n\n\"You must leave,\" whispered Jasmine suddenly, as she poked at the food.\n\n\"Oh?\" Jeremy raised his eyebrows at her.\n\n\"Mantel plans to consume your soul. He thinks if he eats you, he will absorb your power and defeat the demons. Then he will wait for Judgment Day. He is no ally.\"\n\n\"Why are you telling me this?\"\n\nJasmine cradled her belly and looked down. \"I'm pregnant. I am to give birth so that he can eat an innocent baby. He believes it will make him stronger. Mantel's nothing but a power-hungry monster. Please, leave. Now.\"\n\nJeremy stood up, almost knocking the tray over. \"You'll have to come with me.\"\n\n\"I'll die and so will the baby. I just want to feel the baby kicking inside me, that's all I can hope for―to feel this life.\" Jasmine gently patted her belly, and then slid a carrot into her mouth. \"I'm fed well. The baby grows. Take your powers, whatever they be, and flee this place.\" Jasmine stood up and walked quickly out of the room. Jeremy called after her, but she was gone.\n\nJeremy ran his fingers through his hair. This wasn't it. This wasn't his fate; it couldn't be. Jeremy could feel the tears on his lashes. Jasmine's baby shouldn't have to exist perpetually in the sick amalgamation that was Mantel. He'd save her and the baby. He was a good person. Maren believed in him, and he felt so alive, just now, with empathy and love―how could he be bad? He wasn't Satan. And maybe that was it―maybe it came down to a choice in action. He would choose good. Jeremy slipped the Dragon's Horn into the Haze and let it float there. He didn't even bother to look around for demons; he knew they were there.\n\nAs Jeremy exited the Haze, the door swung open. Mantel hovered through, followed by Ms. Fritz, Bentley, and Drew. \"I hope your conversation with Jasmine was fruitful.\" Mantel's head fell on its side as he massaged his throat. He snapped it back. The air began to swim. \"What did she say?\" He loomed closer, a strange expression on his strange face.\n\n\"That I should have a bite to eat.\" Jeremy zapped slightly and stood with his back up against the wall.\n\n\"Perhaps we should all have a bite to eat.\" The faces under Mantel's skin began to bubble to the surface, mouths opened wide, lips nearly bulging through the sickly flesh. Mantel flickered out of sight and then reappeared directly in front of Jeremy.\n\nJeremy pushed Mantel back with both hands and a hasty electric blast, and slipped into the Haze. In the familiar purple light, shadows swelled all around him, reaching out to him. The demons had swarmed his Dragon's Horn like rodents on a carcass, and were picking at it. When he turned away from them, the demons released the Horn and let it bob in space, and eyed Jeremy hungrily. Jeremy flew between two ghastly outstretched hands and entered a different shaft of light.\n\nThe atmosphere was lighter now, and he was in the Upper Haze. To his horror, shadows began to filter in, and the demons gathered around him. He fled again, passing by an elk. The elk, startled, opened its mouth, releasing the cord it was hauling, and a diseased body flew back into the crowd of demons. The elk cried out and charged the horde, provoking a dark laughter that echoed in the fog. The elk regained its ward and blinked into another plane, taking the soul with it. The demons were uninterested. They had one target alone.\n\nJeremy continued to travel upward into greater abstraction, but his hunters were relentless. Desperate, he finally ducked out of the Haze and landed by the oasis in the Maze, its waters eerily calm and undisturbed. Fedonis's shop lay just ahead of him. Jeremy pushed through a series of doors, until he barged into Fedonis's room. Fedonis leapt up from his chair, dropping his Rubik's cube.\n\n\"Fool child! You'll give me a heart attack, and that's no way to go when you're livin' next to a bunch of monsters!\"\n\nJeremy ignored the old man, who was waggling his finger furiously, and set the ladder against the wall. He climbed up, and then leapt onto the platform. \"Maren! Maren, are you here?\" Jeremy raced down the corridor to her room. \"Lyrna? Hey, Tina, get up!\" He knocked on Tina's door and then beat on Maren's, both of which were locked.\n\n\"Yes?\" said a groggy Maren from behind the door. \"What is it? What time is it? Listen to me, as if time mattered down here―\"\n\n\"Maren, open the door! We have to be ready!\" Jeremy pounded on the door.\n\nMaren flung the door open and she rubbed her eyes. \"Ready for what?\"\n\nTina emerged from her room, also rubbing her eyes. \"Is everything okay?\"\n\nLyrna padded out of Maren's room, hissing, her fur standing on end. There were strange whispers coming from the corners of the corridor. Jeremy grabbed at Lyrna's ear tuft and scooped her up.\n\n\"The demons are everywhere―we have to think of something. Mantel knows where we are. He tried to―\"\n\n\"Wait!\" yelled Maren, suddenly alert. \"Where were you? What happened?\"\n\nJeremy quickly relayed how he had snuck out in the middle of the night to talk to Mantel. He told them of Jasmine and her plight, the warning she issued, and the subsequent attack by Mantel. \"And the Haze is full of demons. I don't know how safe we are in here. Mantel knows our location. The demons are coming through to find me, I know it!\" Jeremy paced back and forth, cradling Lyrna in his arms. \"I'm so sorry. I just want you to be safe. I don't know which is the more immediate threat. Normally you should pick the devil you know over the ones you don't, but there are exceptions. Mantel could come here at any minute.\"\n\nFedonis poked his head up over the ladder and squinted viciously at the party. \"What's this now? Jazz men? Mantel? Demons? Out! All of you, shoo!\" The old man lifted his cane up into the corridor and started to poke in their general direction.\n\nThere was a polite knock at the door to Fedonis's shop. Everyone went quiet. Jeremy's body started to buzz. Lyrna wriggled free from his arms and bared her teeth.\n\nThere was another knock.\n\n\"Fooey to this!\" yelped the old man, and he jumped down from the ladder, grabbed some potions, and hobbled over to a large stone in the corner. He fumbled with it for a few seconds, pushing it around in a specific pattern. \"Aha!\" he said as it moved to the side, uncovering a small tunnel. He leapt inside, and the stone snapped back into place.\n\nThe door pushed open gently. Jeremy turned and looked at Maren, Tina, and Lyrna. There was no way out, except through the Haze. They were trapped, their backs to their sleeping quarters―no exits. Jeremy examined the place in his mind's eye from all angles. They'd have to take a chance and see if they could escape through the rock that Fedonis had exited through. He had no idea where it led to, or if it was even accessible to anyone other than Fedonis. \"We have to try that stone!\" Jeremy held out his hand to Maren and she grabbed it. He led her to the ladder and jumped down.\n\n\"Bonjour, Jeremy.\" Ms. Fritz stood in the doorway. Her voice had that same forced pleasantness that made him sick earlier. \"What happened back there? You left so soon. We've made another portal for you, just behind me. Why don't you bring your friends?\"\n\nJeremy spread his arms protectively, while Maren, Tina, and Lyrna climbed down the ladder and ran towards the stone.\n\n\"What's this? Where are you sneaking off to?\" Ms. Fritz turned behind her and nodded to someone behind the door just out of view.\n\nMaren worked hard to pry Fedonis's stone from the wall. Fedonis had made it look so effortless. Tina joined her. Jeremy backed up towards them, his arms still spread out. \"Who's with you, Gorda?\"\n\nMs. Fritz sneered as Bentley and Drew entered the room, weapons drawn.\n\n\"Of course,\" said Jeremy.\n\nMantel appeared in a flash above the IIU, his long cloak brushing the tops of their heads. Mantel's jaw was unhinged and his mouth was wide open, strands of black smoke snaking out. The room wavered.\n\nMaren desperately jiggled the stone, cursing Fedonis under her breath for his annoying puzzles. Tina scanned the potions on Fedonis's shelf. She tried to remember which ones he was bragging about a few hours ago. This one would tranquilize an angry dragon, Fedonis said in her mind. She grabbed the potion and held it tightly in her shaky fist.\n\nMantel was floating towards Jeremy, licking his lips. His shadow began to spread out against the wall. Tina lobbed a vial filled with a pink bubbling liquid right into Mantel's gaping mouth, and it shattered inside, releasing a foul smelling gas. Mantel gagged, his shadow retreated, and he tumbled to the floor.\n\nBentley and Drew ran to Mantel's side. The smell of the potion made their limbs convulse, but still they lifted their weapons and began firing at Tina.\n\nIn the few seconds it took them to steady their shots, Jeremy had summoned a shield of energy, and the blasts were absorbed harmlessly into the blue shield. Beads of sweat ran down Jeremy's forehead, his eyes closed; he couldn't hold them for long. \"Maren, talk to me!\" he yelled back to her.\n\n\"I think I've got it!\" cried Maren, pushing the stone aside. She quickly crawled into the tunnel. Tina and Lyrna followed. Jeremy shot two orbs through the shield straight into Bentley and Drew's shins, and they collapsed in pain. Mantel was still twitching on the floor, but he was starting to regain his bearings.\n\nJeremy crawled in last and clicked the stone back in place. Ahead of them was thirty feet of a claustrophobic tunnel. They crawled through at a grueling pace, scraping their skin on the rock, but they could feel the blasts behind them. The walls of the tunnel shook and debris fell from the clay-rock ceiling in flakes.\n\n\"Almost there!\" yelled Maren. Three feet separated her from the opening at the end of Fedonis's tunnel. Then there was a blast that dwarfed the previous ones, and the walls started to collapse. Maren fell on her belly and Tina's chin slammed on the floor of the tunnel. Jeremy, who was still in the rear, poured energy behind him and rocketed forward into the caravan ahead, pushing everyone out of the tunnel just before it collapsed in on itself. As they landed in a heap inside a cavern on the other side of the former tunnel, Mantel manifested in front of them.\n\nMantel rose high in the air. There was a whining sound all around him, as the fabric of the universe was being twisted by Mantel's rage. Mantel's body turned pitch black, but a blinding white penumbra was forming around him like a solar eclipse. The cavern began to fluctuate, and all perceptions were distorted. Bentley, Drew, and Ms. Fritz stumbled through a rift in the rubble.\n\nA hushed voice echoed in every mind: \"All may perish but Apollyon! I shall digest his essence while it still vibrates.\" Mantel unhinged his jaw again and the top portion of his head fell back, his eyes burning yellow. A large, noxious red tongue unfurled and Mantel began to emanate a deep, hollow sound like a great wind in a canyon. Jeremy was being drawn steadily into the vacuum. His tattered clothes began to unthread themselves. His skin flashed through in streaks―a blinding silver brought to the surface. He tried to use his powers, but found that everything he started fizzled; his essence was being consumed.\n\nMaren and Tina looked on in horror. They found that they too were without strength; there was nothing to do. Lyrna began involuntarily flickering in and out of the Haze, so repelled was her spirit from Mantel. Then, all minds swam in a dream, a sea of images. All went black and a voice said:\n\nWhen Cain and Abel were in the field, Cain rose up against his brother, and slew him.\n\nAnd the LORD said unto Cain, now art thou cursed from the earth, which hath\n\nopened her mouth to receive thy brother's blood from thy hand; a fugitive and a vagabond shalt thou be in the earth.\n\nBut to him that overcometh will I give to eat of the tree of life, which is in the midst of paradise. To him that overcometh will I give to eat of the hidden manna. To him that overcometh will I give power over the nations: and he shall rule them with a rod of iron.\n\nAt the end of days there was war in heaven: Michael and his angels fought against the dragon;\n\nand the great dragon was cast out, that old serpent, called the Devil, and Satan, which\n\ndeceiveth the whole world: he was cast out into the earth,\n\nand his angels were cast out with him.\n\nThen the people took Jesus, and scourged him.\n\nAnd the soldiers platted a crown of thorns, and put it on his head, and\n\nthey put on him a purple robe, And said, Hail, King of the Jews! and they smote him\n\nwith their hands. And they cried out, Away with him, crucify him.\n\nWhen Jesus therefore had received the vinegar, he said, It is finished: and he bowed his head, and gave up His ghost.\n\nTo thee shall be his submission, and Cain may rule over all.\n\nThe blackness broke, and Maren cried out to Jeremy over the whine of the wind, \"It's all out of order!\"\n\n\"Fool.\" Mantel's voice had entered Maren's head, and she went into seizures. \"She who has ears, let her hear. My Kingdom has come!\"\n\nWhispers began to gather in the dark, and shadows shifted. At the far end of the room, there was a long hallway that disappeared into the distance. A thick black smoke rolled forward. Red eyes flashed in the dark like electric roses. The walls were wavering like rising heat.\n\nMantel's slitted eyes rolled back in his head, and he choked as a lump traveled up through his neck, stretching the pink, oozing skin taut. A soul fragment, black as oil, screamed and exploded from the mouth, and shot into the corner of the room, where shadows had begun to grow and solidify into hooded figures. The room was rapidly filling with hundreds of demons, some reptilian, some insect-like, and others goat-headed, all chattering in a soft alien tongue. A demon screeched. Mantel heaved and broke his suction on Jeremy. \"Retreat!\" he gasped.\n\nThe first row of demons flew towards Drew. They tore him into pieces in seconds and consumed his body and spirit. A demon's belly expanded and burned a fiery red. Drew's hand hung limply from one demon's mouth and then burned to ash. The army glided forward.\n\nMantel's body fell to the floor and began to convulse. He cursed and struggled to subdue the Hell-bent souls within him. Another escaped through a slit in his chest. Mantel gave Jeremy one last look, hate boiling over in his eyes, and he vanished.\n\nMs. Fritz fled towards the rubble. \"Master!\" she screamed. \"Save me!\"\n\n\"Gorda, go,\" said Bentley, and he charged into the mass of demons, drawing a large knife from his boot. The demons cackled, and one leapt onto his back, knocking him to the floor and sending the knife skittering across the stone. They descended on him and then shredded him as he screamed.\n\nMs. Fritz stumbled through the rubble, and her foot caught on a rock. She twisted it all the way around, and fell face first, breaking her nose. There were several demons closing in, laughing at the sport. \"Mantel!\" cried Ms. Fritz. Just as the demons reached her, a gray wisp of Mantel appeared, encasing his underling. She wavered and then vanished with him.\n\nJeremy, Maren, Tina, and Lyrna stood in the center of the cavern, backs pressed together.\n\n\"What do you want?!\" yelled Jeremy, who felt his energy slowly returning. He ducked into the Haze to look for an escape route, but it was useless; they were surrounded in all planes. Jeremy returned to the Maze, took a deep breath, and enclosed Maren, Tina, and Lyrna in a globe of energy. The shield flickered like a dying light bulb.\n\nA demon held out its hand as it approached the forcefield. Its hood fell back and a dull gray aura, vibrating like a million tiny insects, hummed around a goat's desiccated skull. Horns pierced through the gray, the tips sparkling like diamonds. The demon bowed its head, and said in a gravelly voice, \"Magister Apollyon, serviamus tibi.\" Its spectral hand pierced the globe and touched Tina's shoulder.\n\nTina grabbed at her throat and made a hoarse gagging sound. Her eyes rolled back in her skull and her hair floated up from her shoulders. Tina's voice was high-pitched and warbled. She turned to Jeremy. \"Master Apollyon, we will serve thee.\"\n\n###\n\nBe sure to check out these other books in\n\nThe Hazy Souls series!\n\nJeremy Chikalto and the Hazy Souls\n\n(Book 1 of The Hazy Souls)\n\n2011\n\nJeremy Chikalto and Leviathan Island\n\n(Book 2 of The Hazy Souls)\n\n2012\n\nJeremy Chikalto and the Demon Trace\n\n(Book 3 of The Hazy Souls)\n\n2014\n\nVisit our website at\n\nwww.viralcat.com\n\nLike \"Jeremy Chikalto\" on Facebook!\n\nPlease let the author know what you think by reviewing this book on Goodreads, Smashwords, Amazon, or other social media. Thank you!\n\n", "meta": {"pile_set_name": "BookCorpus2"}}
{"text": " \n# Trapped by the Wolf\n\n## Juno Blake\n\n### Contents\n\nTrapped by the Wolf\n\nChapter 1\n\nChapter 2\n\nChapter 3\n\nChapter 4\n\nChapter 5\n\nChapter 6\n\nChapter 7\n\nChapter 8\n\nChapter 9\n\nA note from Juno Blake\n\nSAMPLE CHAPTER\n\n10. CLAIMED BY THE WOLF\n\n# Trapped by the Wolf\n\n### By Juno Blake\n\n**Werewolf Fever, Book 1**\n\n**©** 2017 All Rights Reserved\n\n# Chapter 1\n\n_T his was a mistake,_ Lucy thought grimly as rain battered her helmet.\n\nWhen she'd set off on her motorbike early in the morning, it had been cloudy, the slightest drizzle softening the air. Lucy had been excited: if the drizzle cleared, the towering clouds would make an incredible backdrop for photos of the rugged Northern European coastline she was exploring.\n\nInstead, the rain had gotten heavier. And heavier. And now...\n\n\"Shit!\" Lucy yelled as her motorbike skidded on the slick surface. She fought to regain control of the bike and came to a stop at the edge of the road. Panting, she looked around.\n\nShe was in the middle of nowhere. The road she was driving on was the only sign of civilization from here to the horizon. The ground fell away on either side of the road in tumbles of rock and windswept grass, down to the rain-lashed sea.\n\nThe rain was so heavy it was hard to tell where the ocean ended and the sky began. Lucy squinted through her helmet visor, scrubbing at the glass in a vain attempt to keep the rain off long enough for her to look around properly.\n\nLucy peered through the grey sheets of rain. _Is that...?_\n\nShe wiped her visor clean again, hardly believing her eyes. Out in the rain, seeming to rise up from the ocean itself, was an enormous castle.\n\n_But it can't be_ , Lucy thought. _How could I not have heard about this? An ancient castle, all the way out here on the coast, in the middle of nowhere?_\n\nLucy tried to remember the map she'd pored over when she was planning this trip. She had spent years saving, and reading every travel book and blog she could find, to make this the adventure of a lifetime.\n\nLucy frowned. She had been focusing on places of great natural beauty to photograph, but there was no way she would have forgotten seeing a castle in the tourist brochures for the area. Seriously... a castle!\n\nHer fingers were itching to photograph it already. Here, from the road, with its tall towers shrouded in rain, the castle looked like some Atlantean fortress rising from the waves. If she could just get a bit closer... _What an amazing picture that would be. My best so far._\n\nShe dismissed the idea with a rueful shake of her head. Just riding in this rain was difficult enough—she didn't want to get her photography gear soaked, too. Even the best shot wasn't worth ruining her gear.\n\nBut that didn't mean she was going to turn her back on the mysterious castle. It had been hours since she saw any buildings, and Lucy had been on the lookout for somewhere to hide from the rain. Maybe she couldn't photograph the castle, but at least she could take shelter in it. Even if it was derelict, there might be a dry corner in the ruins for Lucy to hide in until the worst of the storm passed.\n\nShe started the engine and rode forward slowly, watching out for the road leading out to the castle. _There must be a driveway somewhere,_ she thought. _It can't_ actually _be rising up from the waves... right?_\n\nEven though she kept her eyes peeled, she almost missed it.\n\nThe turnoff wasn't signposted, and it was almost invisible behind a tall thicket of wind-swept brambles. Lucy pushed her way past the brambles, glad she'd worn sturdy pants and her leather jacket.\n\nThe rain pummeled her helmet and shoulders as she rode carefully up the old road to the castle. The road was paved with large, flat stones, not asphalt like the motorway she'd been driving along before. Some of the stones were cracked, and Lucy had to take care not to get her wheels stuck.\n\nShe was so intently focused on the road that she didn't notice how close she was getting to the castle. When she did finally look up, it was already looming above her.\n\nThe sight took her breath away. The local stone here was granite, hard and grey as the sea, but the stone the castle had been built from was darker, almost black.\n\nIt wasn't derelict. This close, she could see the castle was completely intact, a dark, forbidding fortress standing strong behind heavy metal gates. On either side of the gate, tall walls topped with gleaming metal spikes disappeared into the pounding rain, encircling the castle grounds. A shining chain and padlock held the gate closed. It was obviously new... and equally as clearly meant to keep people out.\n\nLucy chewed her lip. She'd been to plenty of old castles and stately homes while she was traveling around the UK. But this place was different. There were no signs encouraging her to part with painful amounts of money, for a start.\n\nAnd she was sure there hadn't been anything about castles in the tourist brochures she'd read in the last town.\n\nDoubt twisted in her stomach. An abandoned castle was one thing. She'd even be happy to camp out in a tourist trap and play the idiot tourist if anyone came along to throw her out.\n\nBut if someone lived here?\n\n_Normal people don't live in castles._\n\nThe thought sent a shiver down her spine. She shook herself.\n\n_You're being paranoid. Normal people don't live in castles, sure, but I bet super-rich humans do. Or... aristocracy? They still have kings and queens around here, don't they? Some countries, at least._\n\nNo. Lucy wasn't an idiot. She knew what sorts of people lived in places like this. It was a stereotype... because it was true.\n\nShe raised one hand to her throat before she remembered she had lost her silver necklace a few countries back. She hadn't worried about it at the time—she hadn't planned on being anywhere she would need it—but...\n\nWerewolves. Vampires. Other creatures of the night. They were more common here in the old country than they were back in America—and more dangerous, if you believed the stories. Their culture here was thousands of years old.\n\nAnd part of that culture was preying on humans.\n\nA droplet of icy rain made its way under Lucy's collar, making her shiver.\n\n_I'm going to freeze out here,_ she thought. _It's either this, or hiding behind a handy rock until the storm passes. It's too dangerous for me to keep riding in this weather—I'll end up spread like jelly over the road._\n\nLucy stared up at the gates. Even knowing the potential danger, she couldn't help looking at the castle with longing. Walls. Ceilings. _Dryness._\n\nAnd if someone lived there—someone _human_ —then there would maybe even be a shower. Warm towels.\n\nLucy bit her lip.\n\nThe castle was well-protected. The wall around its grounds was taller than she was, and the gates were a complicated wrought-iron design. They were also held together with a thick iron chain and padlock.\n\nShe rattled them experimentally. The dull metal gleamed in the rain, and Lucy's eyes widened.\n\nNot iron after all. Silver.\n\nThis changed everything. She wouldn't be breaking into a potential supernatural's lair; she would be breaking into a castle fortified _against_ the dangerous creatures.\n\nLucy looked back over her shoulder. She could hardly see the main road from here, and the thought of trying to find anywhere else to hide from the storm made her heart sink.\n\nShe got off her bike and walked up and down in front of the gate. _All that silver fretwork should make for great handholds and footholds,_ she told herself.\n\nShe raised one hand and grabbed a cold metal curl. Her leather biking gloves gave her a secure grip.\n\n_I suppose it's technically trespassing... but I really, really don't want to ride on that motorway any longer. It's way too dangerous in this weather. And it's not like I can stay out here in the storm. Besides, if anyone_ is _in there, I can look after myself._\n\nLucy stomped her heavy boots on the ground, heaving the reassuring clang, and pinched back a smile. _Excuses, excuses. You just hope you'll be able to find a hot shower._\n\nLucy raised her other hand, finding another secure handhold. _Besides, the place looks empty. No lights or anything. Whoever owns this castle_ can't _be home._\n\nShe made up her mind.\n\n_It's not like I can carry the bike over with me... but there's no way I'm leaving my gear out here._ Lucy carefully secured her camera bag around her neck, and then much less conscientiously slung her rucksack over her shoulders. It was awkward, but she managed to climb over the gate, only slipping the last few feet to the ground.\n\n\"That wasn't so hard,\" she said to herself—and regretted it a moment later. There was a cracking sound overhead and the rain upgraded itself from \"downpour\" to \"torrential\".\n\nThe path up to the castle was as cracked and broken as the rest of the road. Swearing, Lucy dodged puddles as she hurried up to the big main doors. She was already soaked, and cold, and she didn't want to add a sprained ankle to the list. She'd been traveling through Europe for six months on her own now, and didn't want her journey to come to an end—or even a pause—just because she slipped on a stupid paving stone.\n\nShe didn't think to wonder why the gates, and silver lock, were in such better condition than the road.\n\nThe castle's double front doors were black wood with wrought iron—silver?—designs on the handle and knocker. Lucy raised her hand to knock but to her surprise, the moment she touched the door it swung open.\n\nEyes wide, she eagerly stepped inside out of the rain. A heavy silence struck her, and it took her a second to realize what it was: the absence of the sound of water beating down on her helmet.\n\nShe quickly pulled her helmet off, wincing as cold water dripped down the back of her neck.\n\n\"Eugh,\" she muttered, shaking her hair loose.\n\nLucy looked around for somewhere to put her helmet, and set it down on a table to one side of the main doors. On a sudden thought, she ran her gloved finger across the tabletop. It came away clean.\n\n_No dust,_ she thought. _Is there someone living here after all?_\n\n\"Hello?\" she called. There was no response except the echo of her own voice: _Hello? Hello?_\n\nLucy waited a few more minutes before deciding that the house must be empty. _I guess they forgot to lock up the front door before they left,_ she thought. _Or whoever comes in to dust left it open. Lucky me._\n\nShe shivered. _Hopefully they left the linen closet full, as well. I really need to dry off_.\n\nShe stripped off her gloves and flexed her fingers, which were stiff from the cold and her long ride. After a moment's thought, she pulled off her boots, as well. The hardwood floor of the entranceway was spotless, and she'd already tracked in mud from the path. There was no reason to make more work for the cleaner, or risk marking the hardwood floors with her nailed boots. She stood them tidily by the door, next to the table where she laid her helmet and rucksack.\n\nTwisting her wet hair back over her shoulders, Lucy began to explore. Even with the rain, it was still light outside, but the windows were so small that it was almost pitch-dark inside the castle. Lucy pulled out her emergency pocket flashlight and switched it on.\n\nWhat she saw took her breath away. The entrance hall was huge. Its paneled walls stretched far up into the shadows, where she could see only a hint of wooden beams crossing the ceiling. Great brass chandeliers hung from the beams, green with age and heavy with cobwebs.\n\nShe walked forward, mouth open, her feet silent on the hardwood floor. An enormous staircase swept up from the far end of the entranceway, leading to a mezzanine floor and walkways that clung to the four outer walls of the hall. Her little flashlight glinted off more brass candelabras, but wasn't strong enough to penetrate the gloom.\n\nSomething skittered in the shadows and she swung around, the thin beam of her flashlight bobbing madly. There was nothing there.\n\nLucy took a deep breath, willing her pounding heart to slow down. _It was probably just a rat_ , she told herself. _I guess I'm not the only one trying to find shelter from the storm._\n\nShe turned back to the staircase. She guessed there must be doors leading off the main hall on this level, but that staircase was too much of a temptation to resist.\n\nIt was easy to imagine what the hall would look like with the chandeliers lit, dripping golden light down onto the staircase, and more lights burning in the alcoves on every wall. Lucy knew the old candles and torches had probably long since been replaced by electric lights, but in her imagination a thousand tiny flames flickered and danced, filling the hall with warm, romantic light.\n\nHalfway up the stairs, she turned and looked back. The room behind her was thick with shadows, but just for a moment, she thought she saw something moving in them. She shivered.\n\nAll the evidence suggested the castle was empty. There were no lights on, no murmurs of distant conversation or a TV, no sign that there was anyone here but herself. So why was she so jumpy?\n\n_Get a hold of yourself! Remember that time you spent a whole ten hours clinging to the side of a cliff, waiting for the light to be right so you could get a good shot? You weren't scared then—why are you freaking out now?_\n\nLucy shook herself and kept walking up the stairs. Once she was at the top, she had to decide which way to go.\n\n_What is it people always say—if you're lost in a maze, keep going left? Well, this isn't a maze, but it's as good an idea as any..._\n\nLucy turned left, still marveling at the castle's interior. The walls up here were bare black stone, with deep alcoves holding empty candlesticks. A few heavy wooden tables looked like they should have held more decorations, but were empty. The place looked abandoned.\n\nAt last Lucy came to a closed door. She pushed it open, surprised when it swung smoothly and didn't creak.\n\n\"Oh, this is perfect!\" she breathed, hurrying into the room. Unlike the rest of the castle she'd seen so far, this room looked—well, lived-in.\n\nFloor-to-ceiling bookshelves filled one wall, and two plush sofas sat in front of a large fireplace. There was even a rug under the sofas. She wriggled her toes, suddenly very aware of how cold her feet were against the wooden floorboards.\n\n\"Right,\" she said to herself. In this smaller room, her voice didn't echo like it did in the hall, and speaking aloud didn't feel so weird. \"This must be the part of the castle people actually live in. When they're here, at least. Which means there's got to be a bathroom around here somewhere...\"\n\nResisting the urge to curl up on one of the sofas and dig her cold toes into the thick rug, she ventured on into the next room.\n\nHurrying through the inhabited wing of the castle, she found a kitchen, dining room, bedroom and, finally, the bathroom. Lucy moaned with relief. Her biking leathers had done a good enough job of keeping the wind off, but enough water had trickled down under her collar that she was wet and cold. A hot shower was just what she needed.\n\nFeeling like the world's strangest burglar, Lucy rifled through the linen closet, grabbing a soft fluffy towel. The bath—and it was a bath, not a shower, not even a shower-over-bath—was a claw-footed monstrosity that came almost up to Lucy's waist. It was more like a plunge pool than a tub.\n\nShe turned on the hot tap and sighed with happiness as steam started to rise from the flowing water. \"The hot water's still on. That's a blessing,\" she murmured, stepping back and stripping off her leather jacket. She draped it over the vanity to drip dry, and pulled the t-shirt she was wearing underneath over her head.\n\n\"A blessing? Around here, we call them 'baths',\" said a masculine voice behind her.\n\n# Chapter 2\n\nLucy froze. The man's voice had been amused, with the slightest hint of a Scottish burr... and very, very close.\n\nShe spun around, trying to wrench her soaking t-shirt back over her head at the same time, and lost her balance. For a split second she locked eyes with the man leaning against the bathroom door, which she'd left open. He was tall and well built, with tousled dark hair and a sardonic expression on his face.\n\nThen her foot slipped beneath her and she was falling backwards.\n\nA fleeting image of her head cracking on the cast-iron bath flashed through her mind. Then strong arms grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back upright.\n\nLucy gasped, finding herself face-to-face with the stranger. Heat seemed to pour off him, and his eyes blazed into hers, a burning gold that almost hurt to look at.\n\nHe frowned, heavy black eyebrows drawing low, and Lucy was suddenly intensely aware of his hands around her waist. She could feel every finger pressing into her skin.\n\nNot her shirt, her _skin_. She hadn't managed to pull her t-shirt back down all the way.\n\nOne of his thumbs slid against her side, exploring the curve of her waist. Lucy gasped and pulled away. The feeling that had rushed through her— _No_ , she thought, horrified. _Get a hold of yourself!_\n\n\"Who are you?\" she asked, trembling.\n\n\"The owner of this property,\" the man replied flatly. His nostrils flared. \"And you are...\"\n\nHe leaned forward, towards Lucy, and she gulped, trembling. But he didn't touch her. Instead, he reached past to turn off the hot tap without so much as brushing against her.\n\n\"I'm... stuck,\" she admitted, trying to ignore how her body had reacted to the near-touch. \"I mean, I was driving, but the storm...\"\n\nThe man stared coolly at her. Had she thought his eyes were gold? It must have been a trick of the light. They were a deep, cold black, like polished jet.\n\n\"You were driving in the storm... and that brought you into my bathroom, half-undressed?\" he said coldly.\n\nLucy flushed. \"Yes. It was too dangerous for me to keep going, and this is the only shelter for miles around.\"\n\n\"Oh, I'm well aware of the castle's isolation. That's why I chose it. Clearly, I chose poorly, if even living on the edge of a remote peninsula isn't enough to keep adventurous young women from my door.\"\n\nLucy's face felt as though it was on fire. \"Don't worry, I'll leave,\" she snapped. \"Just let me know if there's a, a nice friendly cave or something further up the coast and I'll go—\"\n\n\"There's no need for that.\" The man caught Lucy's arm as she pushed indignantly past him. He bent his head down towards her and the hairs on the back of Lucy's neck trembled as she felt his breath on her skin. \"You're here now. Bathe, and then join me for dinner.\"\n\n\"And what if I don't want to?\" Lucy wanted to pull away from him, but her feet were frozen to the floor. \"Look, I'm not going to stick around where I'm not welcome. I'll go. It's not late, and the storm might break.\"\n\nThe man made an impatient noise in the back of his throat. \"The storm will not break for hours yet, by which time you're likely to have ridden off the road and broken your neck. Hosting you for dinner, at least, will be less disruptive than calling the authorities to remove your pathetic corpse from my grounds.\"\n\n\"I—\" Lucy began before her throat closed over with rage. How _dare_ he speak to her like that? And how dare he look so, so...\n\nHe had sounded as though he resented her very existence, and that the only problem with her dying on the roads would be the inconvenience it would cause him. But his eyes—his eyes were alight with a sort of cold, assessing interest that did strange things to Lucy's insides.\n\nThe man opened his mouth as though he was going to say something else. Instead, he narrowed his eyes, then turned on his heel and marched out of the bathroom, leaving Lucy breathless and frustrated.\n\n_Bathe? Join him for dinner?_ she thought angrily. _Who does he think he is?_\n\nShe looked at the steaming bathtub and shivered. Rubbing her arms, she knew it wasn't just the cold that was making her tremble. It was the thought of the man's eyes on her, golden—no, black—and burning, looking her up and down while she undressed.\n\n_How long was he standing there watching?_ Watching her peel off her jacket and pull her t-shirt over her head, cold-stiffened nipples pressing through the thin fabric of her bra? Listening to her ramble on to herself?\n\nHow had he even known she was here?\n\nLucy remembered the feeling of being watched from the moment she entered the castle. Was it possible... had he been following her the entire time?\n\nAnd now, he knew she was here. Worse, _she_ knew _he_ was here. Lucy wrapped her arms around her soaked t-shirt. When she had thought the castle was empty she'd been perfectly happy to strip off. She would have pranced naked around the halls, if the weather had been a little warmer.\n\nBut now... even though the man had closed the door behind him, her skin still prickled with the memory of his eyes on her body.\n\nShe shook herself. He'd gone, and the bathroom door had a lock on it, after all. She twisted the latch and put her hand against the solid door.\n\n_He's not watching now,_ she told herself. _So get a grip, and get in that bath before it gets cold._\n\nDespite herself, she looked over her shoulder before pulling off her t-shirt and bra, glancing nervously at the door. There was no one there, of course. She was alone.\n\nLucy wriggled out of her wet pants and slipped into the bathtub, hissing as the hot water flowed over her cold skin. \"Oh, yes,\" she murmured. \"This is just what I needed.\"\n\nShe lay back in the bath, eyes closed, luxuriating in the heat. The hot water seemed to seep right into her bones, relaxing her muscles and making her whole body sing with relief. She ducked her head under and just lay there, holding her breath, entirely surrounded by warmth.\n\nA soft noise came to her ears, distorted by the water. Lucy surfaced at once, wiping her face and looking around. \"Hello?\" she called out, and bit her tongue. What was she, stupid? She'd locked the door. No one could get in.\n\nAnd she couldn't stay in the bath forever, either. Lucy climbed out of the bath and wrapped herself in the fluffy towel, dripping all over the bathmat. She dried off quickly, before the water cooled down and chilled her skin again.\n\nHer own clothes were still wet but there was a neat pile of clothing on top of the vanity: a white cotton shirt, and soft pajama pants. Lucy pulled them on without thinking, glad for something dry to wear. The pants were a bit big, but she could tie the drawstring tight enough to make them sit just on her hips.\n\nBare-footed, she unlocked the door and poked her head around into the corridor. It was empty, but she could hear noises coming from another room, and the smell of meat cooking. Her stomach rumbled. She'd eaten breakfast before she set off that morning, but only a few protein bars while she was on the road. She was ravenous.\n\n_Well, he did say to join him for dinner_ , Lucy told herself, and followed her nose.\n\nShe pushed open the dining room door. Before, the room had been dark and cold, the table and chairs half-hidden in shadows. Now the fireplace beside the dining table was blazing, and the table was set for two.\n\nThe man was sitting at the far end of the table, a glass of red wine held lazily in one hand. His eyes were fixed on Lucy as she came in.\n\n\"I see everything fits,\" he said quietly. Lucy was almost too transfixed by his eyes to hear what he was saying. When his words finally made it to her brain, she gasped.\n\nShe hadn't even thought to wonder where the dry clothes had come from. But they hadn't been there when she first went into the bathroom, or when the man had confronted her.\n\nOr when he'd left, and she'd locked the door after him.\n\nThat only left...\n\nLucy clutched at her shirt, her heart racing. _Did he—did he get in somehow, after all? Was he watching me again?_\n\nAcross the table, the man smirked at her.\n\n\"Sit,\" he commanded.\n\n# Chapter 3\n\nLucy hesitated, her mind racing. He couldn't have gotten into the bathroom while she was in the bath—could he?\n\nShe hadn't seen anything. She hadn't heard—no. She had heard _something_.\n\nThe thought of the man simply being in the castle while she undressed and relaxed in the bath had been bad enough. The thought that he could have been in the room with her...\n\nA shiver went through Lucy's body, starting at the back of her neck and ending— _Oh, no_ —between her legs. Her knees shook.\n\nHe was still looking at her. His eyes caught the light from the fireplace, but she couldn't read the expression in them. He swirled the wine in his glass, and took a sip.\n\n\"I said, _sit_ ,\" he said quietly, in a voice that made the hairs on the back of Lucy's neck rise.\n\nShe clenched her fists. _So, he's being an asshole. Big deal. You've dealt with assholes before._\n\nLucy raised her chin and marched to the table, ignoring the little voice inside her head that was telling her that none of the assholes she'd met before had made her body react like it was now. She pulled the chair out, letting it scrape on the floor, and threw herself into it.\n\nThe smell of perfectly cooked steak rose from the plate in front of her, and smoothed over her angry feelings. She sighed.\n\n_Now who's the asshole?_\n\n\"Thanks for letting me stay,\" she said reluctantly, staring at the lit candles between them instead of into the man's eyes. \"You didn't need to make dinner—I've got some travel snacks in my bag...\"\n\n\"Don't be ridiculous. There are standards of hospitality that must be upheld, even to burglars.\" The man lifted his wineglass and sipped. When he set it down again his lips were blood-red. Lucy couldn't tear her eyes away as he licked them clean.\n\n_What's wrong with you? Every time he insults you, all you can do is stare at him!_\n\nShe clenched her fists harder, driving her fingernails into her palms. \"I'm not a burglar,\" she insisted. \"Like I told you, I only came here to get out of the rain.\"\n\n\"Oh, I think we both know what brought you here,\" he said contemptuously. \"Now, eat. You'll need it.\"\n\nLucy picked up her knife and fork. The steak in front of her was making her mouth water already. She cut into it, her eyes darting across the table.\n\nThe man's steak was a richer color than hers, a deep, bloody red. Lucy's eyes widened. _Is that... raw?_\n\nShe looked down at her own plate. Her steak was cooked—cooked perfectly, in fact. She took a bite and moaned aloud.\n\n\"Oh, that's delicious,\" she said without thinking.\n\n\"I'm glad you approve,\" the man said dryly. He ripped a bite from his own steak with an animal ferocity that was at odds with his controlled voice. Lucy watched as he chewed and swallowed, a trickle of red dripping down from the edge of his mouth.\n\nHer stomach churned. _Is that blood? Oh, my god. It_ is _raw. Who is he? What is this place?_\n\nLucy knew some humans ate raw steak. She'd even tried a steak tartare once herself, but that had been minced and seasoned, not just a bloody chunk of meat.\n\nShe gulped. For some reason, she wasn't hungry anymore. She picked up her wineglass, hoping the man wouldn't notice her sudden loss of appetite, but it was too late.\n\n\"Is something wrong?\" The man's voice snaked into her ears, and Lucy could feel his eyes on her, even though she kept her own gaze firmly on the table top between them.\n\n\"I, uh,\" she said, her mind racing. \"I was just thinking... I haven't actually introduced myself. I'm Lucy. Lucy Abbotsford. I'm a photographer, landscapes mostly, which is what brought me here to this part of the world. I've been traveling around Europe for months, taking photographs for my portfolio. I'm hoping to do an exhibition back home in the States when I return. I, uh...\"\n\nShe broke off. Somewhere, in the middle of her rambling, she'd stopped looking at the table and started looking at the man again. His eyes gleamed with hidden amusement, and Lucy squirmed in her seat as heat rushed through her.\n\n\"My name is Ciaran,\" he said, setting his hands flat on the table. \"Ciaran Mallory.\"\n\n\"You're not from around here either, are you?\" Lucy said quickly. \"Um, because of your accent.\"\n\nShe didn't like the way he was looking at her.\n\nNo. That was a lie. She did like it. She liked it far too much. And _that_ was what she didn't like. That... and the way her body was reacting to it.\n\nShe cleared her throat. \"Have you lived here long? I've only been here for a few days, but the people are so friendly, and the landscape... the landscape is...\"\n\nHer voice trailed away. She couldn't tear her eyes away from Ciaran's gaze, and suddenly, nothing she was saying mattered.\n\nLucy gulped. Her throat was dry. She reached for her wineglass to take another sip, but her fingers were too clumsy to pick it up.\n\nCiaran was still watching her, a strange expression on his face. Throughout the dinner he'd looked amused by her, and frustrated, and now—something else. Something that made Lucy's insides squirm.\n\n\"Lucy,\" he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. \"Lucy Abbotsford. Come here.\"\n\nHe laid down his knife and fork and sat with his palms flat on the table, pinning her with his eyes. Lucy could hardly breathe. Her own fork fell to the floor.\n\n_\"Come here\"? What for? What does he want?_ Lucy's heart hammered as these questions and more flew around her brain. She didn't even realize she had stood up, but then she was suddenly halfway around the table, drawing closer and closer to those eyes.\n\n_What are you doing?_ the voice inside her head screamed at her. Lucy hesitated, gasping as though she'd been underwater and just fought her way to the surface.\n\nShe clutched at the table. She was standing so close to Ciaran that she could have reached out and touched him.\n\nOr he could reach out and touch her. Instead he was sitting there, so still, like a hunter lying in wait.\n\n\"What is going on?\" she stammered. She had a strange, deep feeling that even asking, even talking, was only delaying the inevitable. The moment she had stepped into this room, she'd started down a path there was no turning back from.\n\nCiaran tipped his head back, regarding her. \"You were admiring my meal,\" he said, at last removing his hands from the table. \"Come. Try some.\"\n\nCiaran pushed his chair back and somehow Lucy found herself in front of him, caught between him and the table.\n\nHe lifted his fork, a bloody, dripping piece of steak on the end of it. Lucy's stomach twisted. Raw meat? She hadn't even liked the steak tartare that one time she'd tried it, and this was so much more primal than that.\n\n\"Why don't you eat it cooked?\" she asked. Her knees felt weak and she clutched at the table for support.\n\nCiaran smiled thinly. \"Often, I do. But there are times when my needs are different. I'm sure you understand.\"\n\n_Understand?_ Lucy thought. She didn't understand anything, least of all the thick, heavy desire that was weighing down her limbs. All Ciaran had done was talk, and stare at her, and she was wetter than she'd been for any man in her life.\n\nCiaran smiled and for one horrifying moment she wondered if he could smell her arousal. She was standing right in front of him, her aching core an arm's length from his chest.\n\nBut he just lifted the fork higher. \"Eat,\" he commanded.\n\nLucy opened her mouth without thinking and Ciaran pushed the morsel of meat inside. She bit down automatically and her mouth was flooded with the coppery tang of blood.\n\n\"Is it everything you expected?\" Ciaran asked, raising one eyebrow.\n\nLucy covered her mouth as she coughed, and forced herself to swallow. There was no way she was going to spit it out in front of him.\n\n\"Everything I expected from a chunk of raw meat?\" she said, sputtering slightly. Her mouth still tasted of blood. \"Sure.\"\n\n\"Good.\" Ciaran smiled, baring his teeth. \"Now open your legs.\"\n\n# Chapter 4\n\n\"Excuse me?!\" Lucy would have jumped back in shock, but there was nowhere to go. Just the hard edge of the table behind her, and in front of her, Ciaran Mallory with his predatory smile.\n\nA smile that made her body betray her.\n\nKnees weak, Lucy braced herself against the table.\n\n\"You heard me,\" Ciaran said slowly. \"Spread your legs for me.\"\n\nDespite herself, a shiver of arousal coursed through Lucy's body at the cool, masterful tone of his voice. A part of her she'd never known existed before wanted to obey him. No questions, no doubts, just instant, melting submission to this man whose body seemed to hum with controlled power.\n\nHer hands clenched on the edge of the table.\n\n\"No,\" she snapped, so loud she surprised herself. \"I don't know what sort of a girl you think I am, but I'm not going to let you do what you like to me just because you let me stay here tonight. I'm not a whore. I'd rather go back out into the storm!\"\n\n\"Liar. We both know why you're here.\" Ciaran rose slowly from his seat, planting one hand on the table either side of Lucy. \"Despite what you may have heard, believe me, this way is preferable to the alternative.\"\n\n\"What I may have heard...?\" Lucy felt weak. Heard about what? She had no idea what Ciaran was talking about.\n\nBut the look in his eyes... that, she understood. The strength in his body as he held himself with his face just inches from hers. So close to touching. To being touched. And more.\n\nCiaran's eyes drew her in, his pupils so huge they almost swallowed the shining jet of his irises.\n\nShe felt as though she was drowning. This close, she could see the small movements of muscles in his face: the twitch of his eyelashes, the slight flaring of his nostrils as he inhaled, breathing her in.\n\n\"It's your choice, he murmured, his breath hot on her face. \"But I suggest you make it quickly. It may be the last you ever make.\"\n\nFor just a moment, his eyes flared gold, blazing and inhuman. Then they were black again, smoldering like coals.\n\nLucy's chest was tight, her breaths coming in pants. What she'd told Ciaran was true. She wasn't the sort of girl who had one-night stands. She didn't sleep with men the same day she met them, and she certainly didn't offer her body in exchange for a place to stay.\n\nThe thought of Ciaran touching her should have made her feel sick. Dirty. Instead, it turned her on more than anything ever had before.\n\nCiaran's eyes were like dark pits, drawing her in. Lucy took a deep breath, and let herself fall. She leaned forward, hands still clutching the table, and her lips met his.\n\nCiaran's lips were softer than she had expected but for the first second after she kissed him he stiffened, not responding to her touch. She felt him tremble with tension, felt the fierce control he had over his body begin to crack.\n\nLucy gasped as he grasped her upper arms, holding her in place as he explored her mouth. Her breath came in ragged gasps as his hands moved to her breasts, squeezing and stroking them through the thin cotton of her shirt. _His_ shirt. The shirt he must have known he'd tear off her only minutes after lending it to her.\n\nHer nipples were rock-hard, stiffening under Ciaran's determined hands until they ached. Desperate for more, Lucy pressed herself against him until she could feel the hard muscles of Ciaran's chest against her breasts.\n\n\"Oh, my God,\" she moaned. \"I never—I don't know—\"\n\nCiaran groaned something into her lips and pulled his hands away. Lucy broke away from his kiss, confused, just in time to see him grab the collar of her shirt and rip it apart.\n\nLucy's chest heaved as cool air flowed across her skin. Ciaran left the remains of her shirt draped over her shoulders and attacked her breasts again. He knelt down and took one nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the stiffened nub.\n\nLucy arched her back, gasping with pleasure as Ciaran's relentless attentions to her nipple sent shocks of arousal through her. Her clit throbbed, aching for the same treatment.\n\n\"Please,\" she begged, pushing down on his shoulders.\n\nHe shoved her hand away. His own hands were roving all over her body, circling her waist, squeezing her ass. Suddenly he wrapped one arm around her and pulled her away from the table, just long enough to drag her pants down. The edge of the table bit into the backs of her thighs as he shoved her back onto it.\n\nLucy's blood felt like it was on fire. She was completely naked, vulnerable and exposed. The air was cool on her skin, but she could also feel the flickering heat of the fire on her bare back, and in front of her, the hot need pouring off Ciaran.\n\nHe was still entirely clothed. The sight of him in his black suit pants and button-down shirt somehow aroused Lucy even more. Especially when she raised her eyes to his tousled hair and burning, lust-filled eyes.\n\nHe cupped her jaw in one hand and leaned in close, tipping her head back.\n\n\"What did I tell you?\" he whispered in her ear, his voice rough with desire.\n\nLucy was confused, until she felt his other hand on her thigh. She obediently spread her legs.\n\nCiaran stared into her eyes, still holding her face as he tugged at his fly. She wanted to look, to see what she was dealing with, but she couldn't with his hand holding her in place.\n\nA quiver of anticipation struck Lucy as he returned his other hand to her waist. Ciaran stepped forward. First she felt the fabric of his trousers against her inner thighs, then the head of his cock nestling against her entrance.\n\n_How big is he?_ She had no way of knowing. No way of preparing herself. She should have looked, earlier, tried to get an idea of his size through his pants—but that was before she knew what the night would turn into.\n\nCiaran tightened his grip on her waist and pushed into her. She tensed with nerves as she felt him press past her entrance, but she was so slick her tightened muscles were no barrier. The head of his cock slid easily past her folds, and then he thrust in, burying himself completely.\n\nLucy felt every inch of his cock inside her. It was big, thick, but her body was adjusting. Stretching to fit him.\n\nHe ground against her, groaning deep in his throat, and Lucy felt the zipper of his fly dig into the soft skin at the top of her leg. The slight pain sent darts of pleasure shooting through her.\n\nCiaran moved his hand from her chin to the back of her neck, gripping her tightly. Holding her just where he wanted her.\n\nLucy stared into his eyes as he pulled out of her. She couldn't help the soft mew of disappointment as he left her empty. Ciaran's eyes flared.\n\nOnly the slightest tightening of his grip warned Lucy of his next thrust. She flung her head back, gasping aloud as he buried himself inside her, pounding her into the table.\n\nShe tried to find words, tried to tell him he had to slow down, that she was too close. Then it was too late. Ciaran pushed her down onto the table, forcing himself on top of her. He raised both hands to her head, burying his fingers in her hair.\n\nLucy wrapped her legs around his waist. He was bucking against her, into her, so hard and relentlessly that he was pushing her farther up the table. His cock thrust against her g-spot again and again, pressure building each time until her whole body rocked with orgasm.\n\nLucy cried out, lost on waves of pleasure. Above her, Ciaran's tempo increased, until he suddenly stilled, groaning into her hair as he came inside her.\n\nFor a moment Lucy didn't hear anything except the roar of her blood in her ears, her panting breaths mingling with Ciaran's, and the crackle of the fire behind them. Ciaran's body covered hers, heavy and hot.\n\nHe pushed himself up on his elbows. His dark eyes drilled into hers, searching for—for what? Lucy was dazed with pleasure, hardly able to put two thoughts together.\n\nCiaran's eyebrows drew together. \"Very well,\" he muttered under his breath. He pushed himself back off the table.\n\nLucy sat up, watching him. Her heart was still pounding from their vigorous lovemaking, and her head—she didn't know what her head was doing. Not thinking, that was for sure.\n\n_What have you done?_ she asked herself faintly.\n\nCiaran fastened his fly, his eyes foggy. As Lucy watched he smoothed his hair back, still with that distracted look on his face. A glint at his wrist caught his attention and he checked the time.\n\nDid Lucy imagine the fleeting, tense look that passed across his face as he glanced at his watch?\n\nShe definitely didn't imagine his expression as he looked back at her. She was still sitting on the edge of the table, her ripped shirt open to expose her breasts. Ciaran's eyes slid appreciatively down her body.\n\n\"So... what now?\" she asked, suddenly self-conscious.\n\nCiaran inhaled deeply. Lucy could see the effort it took him to tear his eyes away from her body. To her disappointment, he managed it.\n\n\"You will sleep in my room,\" he said. \"And you must—you must stay there until I fetch you in the morning.\"\n\nLucy bit her lip. The way he'd just looked at her—she wouldn't have thought it was possible, but it sent new shoots of desire darting through her. What had just happened—it had been too fast. Over too soon.\n\nShe wanted more.\n\n_Until he comes and_ fetches _me? Does he seriously mean..._\n\n\"You're not going to sleep in your room, too?\" she said, trying not to sound too disappointed.\n\n\"No.\" Ciaran shook his head sharply. \"I don't think that would be advisable.\"\n\nDespite Lucy's confused questions, Ciaran didn't elaborate as he led her to his bedroom. It was a large, medieval-style bedchamber, with stone walls and thick fur rugs covering the floor. A massive fireplace blazed merrily along one wall. On the wall opposite, three narrow leadlight windows looked out into darkness.\n\nThe bed was in the center of the room, in the middle of a pile of thick rugs. It was a four-poster, with heavy curtains tied back at each corner.\n\nLucy wrapped her arms around herself and stared up at Ciaran. She hoped her eyes didn't look too pleading.\n\n_Or do you?_ that tiny voice inside her asked. _Are you sure you don't want to beg him?_\n\n\"You're sure you won't stay?\" she said as she sat down on the edge of the bed.\n\nCiaran shook his head, regret clear on his face. \"We both know that wouldn't be safe,\" he said shortly, and marched to the door. He stopped with his hand on the door handle. \"Remember, don't leave this room until I come to fetch you. And keep this door locked until morning.\"\n\n_Lock the door?_ Lucy stared after him. _What is he talking about?_\n\n# Chapter 5\n\nThe forest extended in every direction as far as she could see. The air was full of the scent of pine, and frost crackled on the ground beneath her feet.\n\nLucy breathed deep, the forest filling her lungs, and looked up through the trees. The moon stared back, huge and round and gleaming silver.\n\nShe wanted to run. To feel the ground fly away beneath her feet, the cold snap of the air in her lungs. But there was something missing.\n\nShe opened her eyes and gasped.\n\nLucy was lying in bed, blankets twisted around her naked body. She sat up, panting, and ran a hand over her forehead. It came away damp.\n\n\"That was some dream,\" she muttered, kicking her legs free of the tangled sheets. Her muscles ached, and she felt hot as she remembered why.\n\nMaybe that was why she was feeling so frustrated. She'd been frustrated in the dream, too, she realized. Plagued by the feeling that something was missing. Something she had to find.\n\nOr someone.\n\nHer mind flew back to Ciaran. She took a deep breath, remembering the way he'd looked at her—and how she'd felt, feeling his eyes on her. And his hands. And his cock, pushing its way inside her...\n\nShe groaned and flung herself back down on the bed. It was no good. There was no way she was going to get back to sleep now. Her mind was buzzing, and her body was... also buzzing. Sure, that was one word for it.\n\n_Maybe a walk will help,_ she thought, and slung her legs over the side of the bed.\n\nIt didn't take her long to find something to wear, rifling through Ciaran's wardrobe. She didn't bother with trousers; Ciaran was so much taller than she was that his shirts were basically like a short tunic on her, anyway.\n\n_Besides_ , she thought, _It's not like there's anyone except him here to see me_. _And he's seen plenty already._\n\nShe selected a soft grey shirt from his wardrobe and pulled it on, buttoning it up to the collar. It came to halfway down her thighs. Lucy twirled around in front of the windows, since Ciaran didn't have a mirror in his room. It was so dark outside that the dying firelight reflected on the glass.\n\n_Maybe I'll find Ciaran_ , she mused. _Screw all that \"Wait here until I come fetch you\" bullcrap. I might be willing to let him—well, do things to me—but I'm not going to let him lock me up like some damsel in a tower._\n\nShe unlocked the door and poked her head out into the corridor. It was pitch black. _Of course. I don't think I've seen an electric light all the time I've been in here. And I must have left my flashlight in the bathroom, damn it._\n\nShe looked around, thinking, and her eyes fell on a candlestick in an alcove.\n\nLucy held the candle out over the dying embers of the fire until it lit. If she held it in front of her, it made a small circle of warm light that lit her way.\n\nShe had meant to go straight to the bathroom to pick up her flashlight and see if her clothes had dried yet, but instead she found herself wandering the corridors.\n\nLucy crept through the dining room and kitchen. She went the whole way around the walkway at the edge of the main hall, poking her nose into every unlocked door she could find. But it was all hopeless. There was no sign of Ciaran anywhere.\n\nNot that she was looking for him.\n\nLucy tried to tell herself she wasn't disappointed, but it was a lie. Her restlessness, the frustration itching in her veins... if she found Ciaran, she knew they would be able to come up with some way to cure it.\n\nAnd maybe she could ask him about his strange behavior, as well. The things he'd mentioned, telling her they both knew why she was here... his dominance had been hot, but she was worried he thought she was someone she wasn't. The more she thought about it, the more she thought she must have walked into the middle of some sort of pre-arranged blind date... or blind hook-up, maybe. Ciaran had seemed resigned to see her, but not surprised.\n\n_I hope there isn't some other poor girl out there shivering in the rain,_ she thought guiltily.\n\nStill, it wasn't like she regretted what had happened. It was strange, and unexpected, and definitely not the sort of thing she would normally do... but it had been the sexiest thing that had happened to her in her life. Giving in to pure, simple desire. Letting him take what he wanted from her.\n\nShe was heating up just thinking about it.\n\n\"Well, this is pointless,\" she muttered, stopping by a narrow window. She peered outside. The rain had stopped, and the night was still and cool.\n\nCool. Cold. A cold, brisk walk.\n\n\"Sounds like just what I need,\" Lucy grumbled.\n\nShe hurried down the main staircase to the front door, where she'd left her boots. They were still there, lying beside her rucksack and camera bag.\n\nLucy pulled one boot on and grimaced. Rain had dripped down inside it, making it wet and cold. She carefully arranged both boots upside-down against the wall so they would have a chance to drip-dry. Going barefoot would be more comfortable that getting blisters from wearing wet boots with no socks.\n\nOn a whim, she slung her camera bag over her shoulder before slipping out through the heavy doors.\n\nThe cold night air struck her face and her legs, making her gasp. It was lighter out here than it was indoors, the sky full of bright stars. Lucy knelt and left the candlestick flickering in front of the doors.\n\nShe walked slowly down the steps to the path. The night was so still, even the puddles were like mirrors laid face-up on the ground, reflecting the stars.\n\nLucy pulled out her camera, settling it on a travel tripod and aiming it at the long path with its scattering of stars. In darkness this deep, she needed to set a long exposure to have any chance of accurately capturing the scene. Even pressing the shutter on the camera itself could jolt the lens, making the photo blur.\n\nLucy pulled out a remote and stood back. She clicked the button and knelt on her haunches, looking around as she waited for the long exposure to finish.\n\nThe night was hushed. The only noise was the distant _shush, shush_ of waves on the shore, and even that was muted, as though the darkness was pressing down all around. The night seemed to be holding its breath, waiting for—what?\n\nAn LED flashed on the back of Lucy's camera and she picked it up. She didn't bother checking the image. There would be time to look at it later, when turning on the bright viewscreen wouldn't completely ruin her night vision.\n\n_Where to now?_\n\nThe peninsula stretched out around her, full of possibilities. She knew that the main road was some way in front of her, down the end of the pitted path, beyond the silver walls and gate. She didn't have any interest in that. Climbing the gate once in one day was enough for her. Besides, there was the rest of the land this side of the gate to explore.\n\nShe looked back, up at the castle. It was silhouetted against the sky, the merest flickers of light at the windows the only sign that it was inhabited. She thought she could identify the few rooms with light at the windows: the dining room, Ciaran's bedroom...\n\nThe sky behind the castle was brighter than Lucy had expected. Was there a moon tonight? Lucy tried to remember what time moonrise and moonset were at the moment, and gave up. She hadn't paid any attention to the phases of the moon recently, because she hadn't planned on being out and about at night until she started her Northern Lights cruise.\n\nMaybe that had been a mistake. There hadn't been any reports of supernatural attacks in this part of the world recently. Lucy had made a habit of checking reports, since she was traveling so much. She might have lost track of the moon, but she wasn't entirely reckless.\n\nShe shook herself. The gates were silver, weren't they? So even if it was a full moon, no supernaturals could get onto the castle grounds. She was safe here.\n\nSafe to explore. How many people got an opportunity like this? To wander the grounds of an ancient castle, under the silver moonlight. A thrill of excitement darted up Lucy's spine. Even if her photos didn't turn out, it would be worth it just for the experience of exploring this beautiful landscape.\n\nShe walked around the castle, sure of what she would see on the other side. And she was right. The full moon, staring down from the heavens and filling the world with silver light.\n\nThe moon from her dream.\n\nLucy gazed up at it. She'd only ever seen the full moon through a window, before. Even in the cities, only the very brave or foolhardy went out at night during full moon.\n\nIt was... magical.\n\nLucy raised her camera again, half-hypnotized by the moon with its beautiful, pure silver light. It leached the color out of the landscape, making it look like a black-and-white photograph. It should have looked eerie, dangerous, but...\n\n_Crunch._\n\nLucy spun around, following the noise. It had sounded like—what? Like someone stepping on a stick?\n\n\"Ciaran?\" she called tentatively. _Who else could it be?_ He had to be out here somewhere, since she hadn't found him in the castle.\n\nThere was no reply. Lucy sighed and dropped her hands.\n\n_Don't be disappointed,_ she told herself. _More time to explore, and enjoy the moonlight._\n\nThe ground around the castle must have been gardens, once. A few paths still survived, broken and pitted, but most had been swallowed up by overgrown brush and grass. Lucy found one that was less overgrown than the others and followed it away from the castle.\n\nIt brought her to a low rise, looking out over the sea. The ancient gardens faded away, replaced by boulders and rocky scree and, finally, the deep dark of waves breaking against the coast.\n\nAnd something else.\n\nLucy caught her breath. There was a creature, standing down where the land met the waves. She thought for a moment that it was human, but then it moved. It was taller than any human, with a long, loping gait.\n\n_What_ is _that?_ Lucy wondered, creeping forward despite herself. Almost automatically, she raised the camera and depressed the shutter button. The photo might be blurry, but it would be... something. Something to prove that what she was seeing was real.\n\nIt wasn't a werewolf. She hadn't seen a werewolf in the flesh before, but she knew what they looked like. Everyone did. Either fully human, or fully wolf—except the wolf was huge, bigger than a normal animal.\n\nThey weren't like this.\n\nUnthinking, Lucy stepped forward, and dislodged a loose stone. It clattered down the slope, and she watched it, swearing silently at it to stop.\n\nWhen she looked up, the creature was gone.\n\nLucy squinted into the night, her heart hammering in her chest. _Where did it go?_\n\nIt must have heard her. There was no other explanation.\n\n_Oh, shit_. Cold sweat broke out on Lucy's forehead as she shoved her camera back in its bag. She needed to get back to the castle. She might not know what the creature was, but it was clearly supernatural. And everyone knew the supernatural was dangerous.\n\nLucy had wanted to return to America with a hard drive full of photographs, ready to exhibit haunting, beautiful photographs of European landscapes. She'd imagined being featured in a few local papers.\n\nShe hadn't imagined being featured under the headline _Local Girl Discovers New Supernatural—Found Dead._\n\nShe turned to run back up the path and stopped dead, her heart in her throat.\n\nThe creature was there, right in front of her.\n\nThis close, she could see more details. The creature was at least seven feet tall. It was human-shaped, but hugely muscular, and thick hair covered its chest and limbs. Its ears were pointed like a wolf's.\n\nBut it wasn't a wolf. It was human—or close enough to human.\n\nSharp cheekbones jutted out from a predatory face, and golden eyes glittered at her from under heavy black eyebrows.\n\n\"Hello, Lucy,\" he growled.\n\n# Chapter 6\n\n\"Wh-what are you?\" Lucy stammered.\n\nThe wolf-man snarled. \" _What_ am I? Don't tell me you're having second thoughts, Lucy. You've come a long way to back out now.\"\n\n\"I don't know what you're talking about,\" Lucy snapped with a bravery she didn't feel. She stared at the wolf-man, her eyes wide.\n\nIt—he—had golden eyes.\n\n_Oh, God._\n\n\"Ciaran?\" she ventured, hardly daring to say it out loud. \"Oh, no. This can't be happening.\"\n\nThe wolf-man's lips curled back, revealing a row of vicious-looking fangs. \"What's the matter, Lucy? Am I not everything you dreamed of?\"\n\n\"You've got it all wrong,\" Lucy insisted, backing away. \"I know you have this idea in your head that I came here on purpose, but that's not true. I only came here because of the storm. I didn't know—\"\n\n\"Didn't know what? That you were chasing a werewolf who can't even properly transform?\" The wolf-man's—Ciaran's—voice was bitter. He stepped forward, closer to Lucy. \"You seemed pleased enough by my human form, sweetheart. And didn't I try to keep you safe, after that? Didn't I warn you to stay in my room?\"\n\n\"Safe?\" Lucy quavered.\n\nThe wolf-man stepped closer again, licking his lips. \"Don't bother lying, Lucy. We both know that little escapade on the dining table wasn't enough to satiate you. I could smell your desire still burning, afterwards.\" He took a long sniff. \"It's no wonder you didn't sleep well, with your body still craving more.\"\n\nLucy gaped at him. This was Ciaran. Ciaran Mallory. Ciaran Mallory, who hadn't even taken his pants off to fuck her, who'd practically trembled with the force of his self-control.\n\nWell, now she knew what he'd been controlling. The wolf-man wore nothing but his own wiry hair, revealing everything to the moonlight.\n\nBut she could still see traces of the man who'd bewitched her, even through his part-transformation. The wolf-man's cheekbones were impossibly sharp, but Ciaran's had been prominent, too. Those golden eyes were the same color Ciaran's eyes had flashed when he looked at her.\n\nHis body... she had no way of knowing whether his body resembled Ciaran's. Ciaran had been muscular beneath his formal shirt, she knew, but she had no idea whether he had chest hair, or if he waxed it off. Surely there was no way he could be as hairy as the wolf-man? As he was in this form?\n\nAnd as for what he was saying about her craving more...\n\nShe flushed. How had he known she'd ventured out here looking for Ciaran—for him—wanting to rekindle their activities from the evening before?\n\n\"Well?\" the wolf-man growled, stepping closer again. He was within arm's reach, now, and Lucy realized with a jolt that she __ had been within _his_ arm's reach even before he'd stepped forward. His reach was far longer than hers.\n\nShe trembled as she considered what he was saying. And not just saying. His eyes were alight with carnal lust, raking up and down her body. And his body...\n\nLucy bit her lip as she looked between Ciaran's legs. He'd filled her in his human form, but this... this was something different. _Hugely_ different.\n\n\"What are you saying?\" she asked, trembling. She licked her lips and saw Ciaran notice the gesture, his golden eyes glinting.\n\n_Please,_ she wanted to scream. _Please, you've got it all wrong. I came here by accident. All of this, it's a mistake. I don't know who or what you are, but I don't want to... to_ mate _with you._\n\nBut the words died in her throat. Even though they were the truth.\n\n...Weren't they?\n\nLucy gulped, and Ciaran chuckled.\n\n\"It's true, isn't it? You pack-chasers are all alike. Once you see what you've _really_ been chasing, you're frightened—but you still want it.\" He loomed over Lucy, the moonlight reflecting off his eyes and teeth. \"Don't deny it. I can _smell_ your desire. It's so strong, I can almost taste you already.\"\n\nLucy's breath caught in her throat. _How can he—oh god, it's true_ , she realized with a dawning sense of horror. Like this, Ciaran was terrifying, but her body was still responding to him. Her skin was tingling, small sparks of lightning that all led to one place. The one place she needed him to fill.\n\n\"Please,\" she whispered, as much to herself as to him. \"I don't know...\"\n\nCiaran grinned, sharp fangs gleaming. \"Liar.\"\n\nHis voice sent a shiver up Lucy's spine that left her trembling. She gave in. What else could she do?\n\n_Didn't you want an adventure?_\n\n\"Wh-what do you want?\" she quavered, her voice barely a whisper.\n\n\"What does any hunter want?\" Ciaran grinned wolfishly. \" _Run._\"\n\nLucy ran. She ducked around the wolf-man and fled back along the path to the castle, Ciaran's laughter echoing in her ears.\n\nBranches whipped at her bare legs as she ran. The hem of her shirt—his shirt—flapped against her hips. Why hadn't she worn pants? If Ciaran caught her, all he would have to do was flip her over—\n\nLucy shook her head. _Don't think about that._ Don't, because if she did, she might lose her concentration. She might lose her footing...\n\nThe sound of heavy footsteps behind her sent an electric thrill down Lucy's spine. The chase was on. Part of her wanted to fall, she admitted that now, but something kept her going. Some stubborn streak that refused to simply lie down and submit to Ciaran. To the werewolf.\n\nShe raced around a corner of the garden and the castle's exterior walls appeared in front of her. She was almost home clear. All she had to do was run around to the front of the castle. Get in the front doors. And then—then—\n\nThe ground was rough, stones jutting up from the broken path and holes waiting to catch unwary feet. Lucy placed her feet carefully, but the moonlight betrayed her. In the cold silver light a loose stone looked solid; she stepped on it, slipped, and fell to the ground with a force that knocked the breath out of her.\n\nShe scrambled to her hands and knees, ready to launch herself back onto her feet, but it was too late.\n\nThere was a roar of triumph from behind her and then Ciaran was on top of her, his breath hot against the back of her neck. Lucy cried out.\n\nShe wasn't ready. She was interested, aroused, yes, her blood still itching with the frustration that had plagued her since she woke.\n\nBut she wasn't ready. She'd seen the size of the thing between Ciaran's legs. She didn't think anything could make her ready for that.\n\nThe wolf-man flipped her over. She landed on her back, the cold stone of the path biting through her flimsy shirt. Ciaran leered down at her, a fever of lust in his eyes.\n\n\"I knew you wouldn't put up much of a fight, pack-chaser,\" he snarled, his red tongue running over his fangs.\n\n\"No, I'm not—\" _I'm not a pack-chaser_ , she meant to say. _I don't even know what one is!_\n\n\"No?\" Ciaran repeated, mocking her. He grabbed hold of her by one ankle and lifted it high, parting her legs. Lucy bit back a moan as cold air struck her bare pussy. She was throbbing, and wet, which only made the cold bite deeper. \"This doesn't look like ' _No_ ' __ to me, pack-chaser.\"\n\nHe bent forward before Lucy could so much as draw breath and ran his tongue along Lucy's slick entrance. She gasped, her protestations dying on her lips. Whatever he was about to do to her...\n\n_I want it. Oh, god, I want it so much._\n\nCiaran took her gasp for consent. He drove his tongue deeper inside her, invading her with quick, harsh licks. Lucy moaned. Her legs thrashed as his tongue brushed against a sensitive spot deep inside her.\n\nHe chuckled. She _felt_ him chuckle, his fangs sliding against her slick nether lips. Then he probed his tongue into her again, swirling the tip deep inside her until she screamed.\n\nLucy's legs bucked. If Ciaran hadn't been holding her ankle she would have fallen to the ground, helpless, her whole body convulsing from the orgasm he forced out of her.\n\nCiaran's eyes blazed as he ran them up her body, finally coming to rest on her own wide eyes.\n\n\"You really like it, don't you?\" he growled, his voice low with menace. \"Even when I look like this. I could do anything, and you'd still beg for more.\"\n\n\"No, I wouldn't!\" Lucy retorted, still desperate to keep hold of some of her dignity.\n\nCiaran raised one thick eyebrow. The expression gave his wolf-man face an oddly sinister look. \"No?\"\n\nHe leaned over her, bending her leg back against her stomach.\n\n\"Say it again,\" he commanded.\n\nLucy gulped. She could feel— _something_ —pressing against her entrance.\n\n_Don't lie to herself. You know what it is. His cock. His giant, werewolf cock. He'd going to fuck you, here, on the ground. He's going to destroy you and there's nothing you can do about it._\n\nCiaran bared his fangs in a grin. \"Say it!\" he repeated.\n\n\"N-no,\" she stammered.\n\n\"This is a funny game you're playing, you pack-chasing slut,\" Ciaran snarled. \"Is this what turns you on? Me forcing you, in this form?\"\n\nHis fingers tightened on Lucy's ankle and her eyes widened as she felt the head of his cock press against her entrance again.\n\nShe couldn't help but compare this to what had happened earlier, in the dining room. Ciaran had been forceful in his human form, too, but it had been... different. He'd seethed with self-control, as though reluctant to take her. To put them both on the journey that led them to this path in the moonlight.\n\nThe wolf-man had no such control. If he was holding himself back, it was only to taunt Lucy more.\n\nAnd... she was enjoying it. The longer he tormented her, the wetter she became.\n\nWith a grunt, Ciaran pressed forward. Lucy's free foot found purchase on the ground and she pushed herself back, just far enough to avoid his thrust.\n\n\"W-wait, please!\" she cried out. \"You're too big—can't you see, you won't—\"\n\nCiaran bared his fangs at her in a silent laugh. \"Fit? You forget, pack-chaser, I've already ploughed you once. I know what your human cunt can handle, especially when you're dripping wet like now.\" He ran his teeth along her cheek. \"I'm not saying it won't hurt—but that's what you're here for, aren't you?\"\n\nTo her horror, Lucy's body thrilled at his words. It was disgusting, violent, feral—but every filthy word turned her on more.\n\nAnd Ciaran knew it. She could tell by the gleam in his eyes.\n\n\"Say it,\" he whispered, his eyes inches from hers. \"Say you want me to fuck you.\"\n\nLucy stared into his eyes, pinned down by the ferocious lust she saw burning there. Her heartbeat thudded in her ears.\n\n\"I—I—\" she stammered. The wolf-man shifted his weight and she felt his cock pressing against her again. Hungry. The same hunger that burned in his eyes.\n\nThe same hunger that burned inside her.\n\n\"I want—\" she began again, and Ciaran laughed.\n\n\"Too slow!\" he crowed, and thrust his cock inside her.\n\nLucy screamed. She was dripping wet, but Ciaran's werewolf cock was huge, thicker and longer than any she'd ever seen. She couldn't believe it would ever fit it her. She couldn't believe it _had_.\n\nLike before, her body adjusted around Ciaran's cock, easing to fit it. Lucy drew in breath, grateful that Ciaran was holding still above her, giving her time to get used to the feeling of him inside her.\n\nHe was still holding her leg up. Eyelids fluttering, Lucy looked down her body, to where their bodies were joined. What she saw made her eyes go wide with shock.\n\nCiaran's cock wasn't buried inside of her. There were still four or five inches of thick cock outside of Lucy's entrance, waiting for him to thrust again.\n\nThe filled, stretched feeling inside of Lucy... that was nothing compared to what was to come.\n\nShe met Ciaran's eyes, already knowing what she would find there. Dark, lustful amusement, and excitement as he saw the shock on her face.\n\n\"Please...\" she managed to gasp out. She didn't even know what she was begging for.\n\n_More. All of it. Fill me, fuck me, destroy me—_\n\nCiaran's hand closed around the back of her head. It was almost a caress, until he pulled her head forward, forcing her to look back down at his cock.\n\n\"Watch,\" he commanded, his voice breathy with lust. \"Watch what I do to you, pack-chaser.\"\n\nHe forced himself further inside her, inch by inch, holding her head so she couldn't look away. Her fingers scrabbled against the rocky path. Her whole body burned, but it was worst inside her, deep inside, where the pain was so intense it turned into pleasure again.\n\nLucy was moaning through gritted teeth by the time the wolf-man lodged himself fully inside her, violating her deeper than any lover had before. He gave one final, grinding thrust, making nerves deep inside of Lucy scream.\n\n\"Say it,\" he growled.\n\nDéjà vu made Lucy's head spin, but this time, she knew what he wanted. \"Fuck me,\" she cried obediently.\n\n\"Beg me,\" Ciaran insisted, tightening his grip on her ankle and the back of her skull. Lucy almost sobbed with need.\n\n\"Please, fuck me—please, I w-want you to fuck me, please—\"\n\nShe screamed as he pulled out of her and pistoned back in, hard and fast. The pressure of his cock inside her seemed to extend to her lungs. She could barely draw breath, and every pounding thrust of his cock drove more air out of her, making her scream in gulping sobs.\n\nHe lifted her ankle higher, opening her even more, changing the angle from which he was assaulting her core. The bulbous head of his cock struck at her deepest point and stars burst at the edges of her vision.\n\nAgain. And again. Stars filled her eyes until there was nothing but blinding light and the sight of Ciaran's thick cock pounding into her frail human body.\n\nLucy came with a scream that left her throat raw. This was nothing like the tidal wave of pleasure that had struck her with Ciaran in his human form. It was raw, primal and bloody, and she was powerless to stop it or stop Ciaran from seeing it.\n\n\"See, slut? See how much you like it?\" He pushed his face close to hers. \"I could rip your throat out now, and you wouldn't even try to stop me.\"\n\nLucy's whole body shuddered with aftershocks. She couldn't move. She couldn't even speak.\n\nShe felt his teeth close around her throat. His cock was still pistoning in and out of her, and his whole body tensed. His hot tongue lapped against her throat as she gulped back a scream and then he raised his head, howling at the moon as he came, filling her with his seed.\n\n# Chapter 7\n\nLucy wished she could have passed out. Instead she was awake, and hideously aware of what she'd just done.\n\nOf what she'd just allowed the werewolf to do to her.\n\nOf what she had _wanted_.\n\nHer insides ached as Ciaran pulled his cock out of her. Even half-flaccid, it was monstrously huge, and the thought that it had been inside her made her whole body quiver.\n\n\"Was it everything you dreamed of, pack-chaser?\" Ciaran growled. His golden eyes were narrowed as he glared down at her.\n\n_What's your problem?_ she wanted to say. _You're the one who did it—you enjoyed it, too—so why are you looking at me like that? With such bitterness?_\n\nShe tried to speak, but couldn't form words. Her throat was too raw from screaming.\n\nCiaran grunted. He stared at her a moment longer, considering, then with one smooth movement knelt and tore Lucy's shirt from her body.\n\nLucy gasped with shock, then again as Ciaran twisted the ripped fabric into a rope and looped it around her neck. He tied a knot in the rope and pulled Lucy to her feet, leashed.\n\nLucy's legs wobbled, but held her up—barely. Every muscle in her body cried out with pain.\n\nShe grabbed the collar. \"What are you—\" she began, her voice little more than a croak, and coughed.\n\nCiaran drew her close. \"Isn't it obvious, pack-chaser? You chased me, I chased you. I caught you—so now you belong to me.\" He tugged on her leash and Lucy stumbled, falling against him.\n\nHis body was strong, hard muscles shifting under the thick black hair that covered him. But Lucy already knew that. She'd felt what those muscles could do.\n\n\"I... belong to you?\" she repeated slowly. _Yes_ , part of her said.\n\n_No,_ she insisted, forcing back the treacherous voice, _No. Bed play is one thing, but ownership? No, I'm not signing up for this._\n\nShe rolled her eyes up at the massive wolf-man who held her leash. If she said no now, what would that achieve? Nothing. He would overpower her and do whatever he wanted, regardless.\n\nSo instead, she let her head drop. That was close enough to a nod of consent for Ciaran. He chuckled, and grabbed her chin, pulling it up until she met his eyes.\n\n\"You chased me a long way, Lucy Abbotsford,\" he said, his voice strangely soft. \"I may not be everything you imagined, but I'm going to make sure it was worth the trip.\"\n\nLucy stared up at him through her eyelashes, her lips slightly parted. The cotton shirt around her neck was soft, but that didn't change what it was: a collar.\n\n\"Time to go,\" Ciaran said, tugging on the leash.\n\nLucy held her ground, although her legs wobbled with the effort. \"Where?\"\n\nCiaran raised one thick, black eyebrow. \"Where do you think? Just where I left you. Perhaps this time, you'll obey my instructions to stay there.\" He grinned. \"And if you don't... well, I'm sure I can think of some way to remind you of why you should obey me.\"\n\nHe led Lucy by the neck back along the broken stone path, up to the castle doors. A pang went through Lucy as she saw her rucksack just inside the entranceway. The pack, with her helmet placed neatly beside it, was a reminder of a more innocent time. A more innocent her.\n\nWas it really less than a day since she'd first set foot here? In Lucy's heart, it felt like longer. In her soul...\n\nShe felt different. She _was_ different. Twenty-four hours ago, Lucy would never have believed she could survive what had just happened to her.\n\nOr that she would enjoy it.\n\nShame curled inside her, black and cold. She _had_ enjoyed it. Every moment of it. Every filthy thing Ciaran had spat at her. The feeling of him inside her, violating her, pinning her helpless body to the ground with his cock. Filling her with the seed that was still dripping out of her.\n\nEvery ache in her body was his. And she wanted more.\n\nThe collar tightened around her neck as Ciaran led her upstairs. She made a small noise as they passed the bathroom, and Ciaran chuckled.\n\n\"Don't think you can wash it off, pack-chaser. I want to smell myself on you when I take you again.\"\n\n_Again?_ Lucy clenched her legs together automatically, and Ciaran laughed out loud. He dropped the leash, and for one moment, Lucy had a crazy thought of running away—but before the thought was even fully formed in her mind, he grabbed her around the waist and threw her over his shoulder.\n\nHe sprinted to his room and tossed her onto the bed. Winded, Lucy barely had time to push herself up on her elbows before Ciaran was on her again. He flipped her over, winding her leash around one thick wrist and pulling it tight.\n\nLucy's hands flew to the twisted-shirt collar as it pressed against her throat. \"Stop!\" she cried.\n\nCiaran knelt over her, a mocking look in his golden eyes. He tied the end of the leash to the carved wooden headboard, tight enough that Lucy gasped.\n\nCiaran ran his hands down her body, squeezing her breasts and kneading her ass. His hands were so big each one covered a whole cheek, and his fingertips groped between them. Lucy gasped and bucked away from his exploring fingers.\n\n\"Don't like that, do you? But I know what you do want.\" Ciaran slid one hand between her legs, running the pad of his thumb along her slick folds. Lucy trembled, moaning despite herself as his touch sent tendrils of desire twisting through her center.\n\nThe collar pressed against her neck and Lucy realized she had slid down the bed, leaning into Ciaran's teasing strokes. If she went any further, she'd choke.\n\nLucy turned pleading eyes on Ciaran. He touched her cheek, the expression on his inhuman face fierce with lust.\n\n\"Look at yourself. I'm barely even touching you, and you're choking yourself. Literally gagging for it.\" He grabbed her and rolled sideways, pulling Lucy on top of himself.\n\nFor a moment, the collar twisted cruelly around her neck, cutting off her air completely. Then Lucy was lying spread-eagled on top of the naked wolf-man, the pressure on her throat easing.\n\nPanting, Lucy followed the line of the leash to where it was tied to the headboard. Ciaran had the rope looped loosely around his hand—loosely enough that Lucy could breath. Could move.\n\nHe was sitting back against the intricately carved wooden headboard, smug expectation glowing from his eyes. As she felt the hard thickness of his cock between her legs, Lucy understood why.\n\nHe expected her to mount him. She could see it in his eyes. She was dripping wet, Ciaran's seed mixing with her own juices, and even though every part of her hurt... the press of his cock against her folds was making her throb with desire.\n\n\"Go on,\" Ciaran murmured. \"You know you want it. Give in.\"\n\nCiaran thought he had tamed her. Broken her with lust, until she stopped asking questions, stopped resisting. Until she begged him to let her take him into herself again.\n\n_What has he done to you?_ she asked herself. _He tricked you. Lied to you. And back in the garden, he could have ripped out your throat. He's a werewolf, and he's dangerous. how can you still desire him?_\n\nLucy gave a gasp that was almost a sob. Her mind was screaming at her to stop, but her body moved as though she was in a dream. She lifted herself up—and lowered herself, every muscle in her body aching with need, onto Ciaran's cock.\n\nShe moaned as he filled her. Straddling him like this, she could control the speed of penetration and she lowered herself slowly, slowly, savoring the pressure that grew inside her. She shut her eyes, focusing on keeping control.\n\nLucy rested her hands on Ciaran's hairy chest. His heartbeat thudded against her palms as she took him fully inside herself.\n\nA tear squeezed itself out through her closed eyes. _What are you doing?_ she berated herself, even as her whole body thrilled for Ciaran's touch. _You can't even pretend you don't like it. He was right. You are a slut. A pack-chaser, whatever that means._\n\nShe opened her eyes and stared at Ciaran. He was watching her with his eyes hooded and his mouth slightly open, revealing a hint of fang. He was primal, a coiled spring of violent animal passion who could destroy her with one snap of his sharp white teeth.\n\nLucy wanted him more than anything she'd ever wanted in her life.\n\n\"Oh, Lucy,\" Ciaran murmured, stroking one clawed finger down her cheek, wiping way her tear of shame. \"It's just not as fun when you stop fighting, is it?\"\n\nWith a deep sigh, he let his head rest back against the headboard and closed his eyes.\n\nLucy gaped at him, her shameful desire twisting into horrified frustration. He couldn't just leave her like this. He _couldn't._\n\nBut he was. He was asleep—and she was trapped.\n\nShe waited, but he didn't move. She bit back a sob. She was still tied to the bed—tied to Ciaran, it was the same thing. The leash wasn't long enough for her to roll off him. He had her exactly where he wanted her: begging, humiliated, and unable to move from his body.\n\nNew tears joined the one that had already trickled down her cheek. She felt hollow with shame. She had finally given in, and what had he done?\n\nRefused her. Rejected her. And collared her, so she couldn't even go and lick her wounded pride in peace.\n\n# Chapter 8\n\nLucy slept, eventually. She didn't remember lying down against Ciaran's chest, or the slow rise and fall of his breathing lulling her to unconsciousness, but it must have happened.\n\nShe dreamed of the forest again, tall pines silhouetted black against the silver full moon. In her dream, she was still hunting, but this time she knew what it was she was trying to find. A fierce joy filled her, bright and hot, as she raced through the trees.\n\nUntil she woke up, and all her certainty vanished like mist in the dawn.\n\nLucy drifted slowly from sleep back into consciousness. She felt the sun on her face, and the twist of blankets around her legs and hips. The warm dent in the mattress where she'd curled up in sleep.\n\nShe stretched, and hissed as her body cried out in pain. Every inch of her skin seemed to hurt, and every muscle under her skin ached.\n\nLucy pushed herself slowly upright, teeth gritted. As she sat back against the carved headboard, she pushed the blankets out of the way and looked down at her body.\n\nHer skin was marked with dozens of small cuts and grazes. Bruises ringed both her wrists and ankles, where the werewolf had held her down. There were dark marks around her waist, too—fingerprints, edged with scratches where his claw-like nails had raked her skin.\n\nLucy caught her breath. It was horrific... but she'd never been so turned on by the sight of her own body before.\n\nShe ran her hands down her sides, seeing how small they were compared to the marks from the werewolf's hands. Her pussy ached, too, but it was a heavy, satisfied ache, not the pain of damage. Lucy bit her lip.\n\n_How was that possible?_ The werewolf's cock had been so huge, and he'd been so relentless, that she was sure he would have hurt her. But this morning, the only evidence he'd left of his rough treatment were those bruises, this satisfied ache...\n\n...and a need for more that left Lucy breathless.\n\n\"Hello, Lucy Abbotsford.\"\n\nThe sound of Ciaran's Scottish burr made Lucy jump. Her hands reached automatically to the blanket, to cover herself—but what would the point of that be? Ciaran had seen her naked body already.\n\n_Seen it, and marked you as his own_. The thought burnt through Lucy's mind like wildfire, searing everything in its path... and leaving Lucy almost panting with desire.\n\nShe held herself still, trying to pull herself together before she looked up at Ciaran. She shouldn't have bothered. Whatever calm she managed to gather around herself went up in smoke the moment she looked into his eyes.\n\nHe was human again, sitting in a heavy armchair in front of the fireplace. A thick bar of sunlight from the leadlight windows fell across his bare chest and face. In the light, it should have been easy to read his expression, but Lucy couldn't decipher the emotion that flickered across his face as their eyes met.\n\nShe had thought that werewolves were like two sides of a coin: one human, one animal. But Ciaran was different. When he was human, his eyes flashed wolf-gold, and when he was transformed... he'd still been so human. Like he was now. Smooth, sophisticated... but with danger lurking beneath the surface.\n\n\"Good morning,\" she said quietly.\n\n\"Is it?\" Ciaran's voice was reserved. He steepled his fingers in front of his chest, his eyebrows drawing together as he stared at Lucy. \"Well. Perhaps you're right. You are alive, after all.\"\n\nHis eyes slid sideways, and this time Lucy did recognize the expression that passed over his face. Bitterness.\n\nHer stomach twisted. _Is he upset that I'm alive? Is that it?_\n\n\"Did... did you think you would kill me, last night? Is that why you told me to stay in this room after dark?\"\n\nCiaran sat back and ran his fingers through his dark hair. \"Yes. Yes, I thought I would kill you,\" he admitted, his voice harsh. \"That's why I bedded you in the first place. I hoped it would... slake my lust enough to keep you safe. You may be a naïve fool, but you didn't deserve to die for it.\"\n\nLucy raised one eyebrow. \"And... I didn't,\" she said, a slow smile spreading across her face.\n\n\"No.\" Ciaran didn't return her smile. \"No, for once, my... condition seems to have a silver lining. Hah.\" He laughed mirthlessly.\n\n\"Your condition? You mean, being a werewolf?\" Lucy leaned forward, pulling her knees up and wrapping her arms around them. She knew so little about werewolves, really. Oh, everyone knew the _stories_ , but it was impossible to tell what was rumor, and what was real. Before last night, she'd thought werewolves transformed completely into wolves—but maybe that was just another myth?\n\nCiaran frowned at her. \"I know that last night cannot have been what you were expecting, but surely the wolf who broke you in explained some things, at least?\" When Lucy didn't reply, he shook his head. \"I... I am not a true werewolf. If I had been, then when I caught you last night...\" He expelled his breath sharply.\n\n\"What do you mean, you're not a true werewolf?\" Lucy spoke without thinking. When Ciaran stared at her at though he couldn't believe what she was saying, she waved her hands. \"Okay, okay, can we start at the beginning? Like you said, I've got no idea.\" _Even if you didn't believe that last night._\n\nCiaran gave her a slow, considering stare that made her toes curl. \"Very well. If you insist I treat you like a complete incompetent...\" He groaned and rubbed his forehead. \"This really should not be my responsibility. Whoever broke you in should have explained... I came here to get away from all of that.\" He closed his eyes briefly. \"Very well. From the beginning. I am unable to complete my shift into a werewolf form, therefore, I am not a true werewolf. Had I been, the wolf would have torn you limb from limb when you ventured out of the castle last night.\"\n\n\"So last night—that wasn't the wolf?\"\n\n\"I told you. I am not like other werewolves. The balance of wolf and man—I've never known it. Never felt the cleansing freedom of my wolf form, simple and free in the moonlight.\" Ciaran's eyes darkened.\n\n\"But—you did transform,\" Lucy said, confused. \"Last night, you weren't—you weren't _human_.\"\n\n\"I wasn't a wolf.\" Ciaran's expression darkened. \"Make no mistake, Lucy, every time I claimed you last night, it was _me_ doing it to you. Human cruelty and human lust, but in a stronger body. More powerful. Less... restricted.\" He laughed bitterly. \"Perhaps that is my balance, after all. The moon brings out the monster in me, as it brings out the simple beast in others of my kind.\"\n\n\"Then that was... you,\" Lucy said slowly. \"You told me to stay in the room because you wanted to keep me safe... from yourself. You thought that _you_ would hurt me.\"\n\nCiaran met her eyes. \"I did not know what I would do.\"\n\nLucy gulped. _Neither did I. But I threw myself at you, regardless._\n\nShe stared over her knees at Ciaran. When he'd caught her in the bathroom, he'd been cold, sarcastic—but now she could see the danger lurking behind his handsome face.\n\nIf the wolf-man with the sharp fangs and claw-like nails was _him_ , and not the wolf—then that primal, violent passion he'd forced on her the night before was his. Not the wolf's.\n\nSomewhere behind Ciaran's smooth exterior burned the fierce, single-minded desire that had wanted her, and taken her, only thinking of his own pleasure.\n\nLucy felt light-headed.\n\nCiaran took a long, slow breath. \"I've always thought my full-moon form was unsafe... that's why I stayed away from the pack-chaser parties. I feared what I would do to the women who threw themselves at my kind. But you...\" His eyes smoldered. \"I _want_ to hurt you. I want to make you _scream_.\"\n\n\"You did make me scream,\" Lucy breathed, trapped in his eyes.\n\n\"Yes.\" Ciaran stood up, slowly, his predator's eyes locked on to Lucy. \"I did make you scream. And tremble, and shake beneath me. I could have done anything to you...\"\n\nLucy blinked, and he was next to the bed. She jerked backward. How had he moved so fast?\n\n\"I could have forced myself on you while you slept. Watched you scream as you woke up and saw me violating you.\"\n\nHe got onto the bed, crawling towards Lucy as he described the disgusting things he could have done to her. He talked as though she was a toy. Something he could use for his pleasure, picking up and discarding as he liked.\n\nLucy moaned as he drew closer to her, his eyes as black as night. It was filthy, disgusting, _degrading_... and it was making her wet.\n\nCiaran stopped inches from her. He was on his hands and knees, his face the same height as hers—but he wasn't touching her. All she could feel was his breath on her neck, and the piercing, thrilling pressure of his gaze on her body.\n\n\"I could do anything I want,\" he murmured. \"Hurt you. Break you. And you would beg for more, wouldn't you? I took you on the dining table last night because I thought it would keep you safe, but instead, it's only made my lust stronger.\"\n\nLucy's lips parted. She leaned towards him, desperate for his touch. \"Yes,\" she breathed.\n\n\"You naïve, foolish...\"\n\nSuddenly, he grabbed her, throwing her against the headboard and pinning her in place, his hands on her shoulders. The carved wood dug into her back and Lucy wriggle to free herself, but it was no use.\n\n\"Lucy—\" Ciaran lowered his head to her breasts, groaning as he took her nipple in her mouth and sucked it hard. Lucy arched her back, shocked by the sudden assault on her body—and enjoying it. Wanting more.\n\nCiaran moved slowly upwards, sucking and licking at Lucy's skin from her breasts to her neck, where he paused, his tongue flickering over the pulse under her jaw. His stance shifted and she felt his teeth— _Human teeth_ , she told herself, _human teeth_ —rasping against her skin.\n\nLucy's pulse grew faster under Ciaran's mouth, frantic, desperate, like a bird trapped under a cat's claws. _Human teeth,_ she thought, repeating it like a mantra, as though human teeth couldn't draw blood just as easily as a wolf's. Or a wolf-man's.\n\n_What time does the moon rise here?_ Lucy thought, her heart thrumming in her ears. _How long do I have until..._\n\n\"You're frightened,\" Ciaran purred, his voice vibrating against Lucy's neck. \"Good girl.\"\n\nOne of his hands pushed between her legs, and Lucy whimpered as he dipped two fingers into her dripping center.\n\n\"Oh, _very_ good. Who broke you in, pack-chaser? Wait. Don't tell me.\" He drove his fingers deeper, making Lucy gasp. \"We're still pretending you know nothing, after all... Dear, naïve Lucy... I'm your first, aren't I?\"\n\nHis voice was acid with sarcasm as he reminded Lucy he thought her ignorance was a façade.\n\n_Broke me in?_ Lucy's mind reeled at the implications of that term.\n\nThere was so much Ciaran said that she still didn't understand. Breaking in, pack-chasers, whatever these parties he mentioned were... She needed to spend at least a week at her computer researching. Instead, she was stuck here with Ciaran. And every time she thought she was getting a handle on what was going on, he did something like...\n\n\"O-o-ohh,\" she moaned, flinging her head back as he curled his fingers inside her.\n\nThen, suddenly, pain blossomed on her throat. Lucy's eyes snapped open.\n\n\"Oh God—\" she cried out, backing into the headboard, twisting her head away from Ciaran's teeth.\n\nHe didn't stop her. As she stared at him in shock Ciaran's eyes flared gold, and he looked away, rubbing a hand over his face.\n\nWhen he turned back to Lucy, his eyes were black again. Human. Except that nothing about him was human. Lucy was beginning to understand that now.\n\nBeginning to understand what it really meant.\n\nCold blossomed at the base of her spine and rose through her, making her lungs constrict and her skin prickle.\n\n_I can't do this,_ she though suddenly. _This is all like some crazy dream—and I have to wake up. He's a werewolf. This isn't safe._ I'm _not safe._\n\n_I need to get out of here._\n\nShe gulped, feeling the pressure of her collar around her neck. It had loosened while she slept... but it was still there.\n\nLast night, the wolf-man had said she _belonged_ to him. But that was the wolf-man. Surely Ciaran wouldn't...\n\nNo. She was being a fool, just like Ciaran had said. Ciaran was the wolf-man, and she had to assume that everything he said then, he still meant now.\n\n\"So,\" she said, suddenly feeling very sober. \"Not that this hasn't been fun, but... What happens now?\"\n\n\"Now?\" Ciaran threw the question back at her.\n\n\"Yes.\" Lucy's thoughts were flying in a thousand directions at once, and she struggled to pull them together. She took a deep breath. \"All right. Let's say that I'm... happy with what's happened here already. But what happens next? I've got work to get back to, people expecting me home—\"\n\nShe stopped. Ciaran was staring at her. The mocking superiority in his eyes faded, replaced by something harder.\n\n\"Stop playing, Lucy,\" he growled. \"I looked through your bag last night. You came to Europe on a one-way ticket. You never expected to go back home once you found me. And now that you have, I have no intention of letting you go.\"\n\nLucy's insides turned to ice. She licked her suddenly dry lips, opened her mouth to protest—but what would be the point?\n\nShe'd tried to tell him already that this was all an accident, a mistake. That she hadn't deliberately sought out a werewolf, presenting herself like some sort of depraved sexual sacrifice.\n\nHe hadn't believed her then. Why would he believe her now? To him, she must look nothing but a—what had he called her? A pack-chaser, seeking out a werewolf to dominate her.\n\nHe had asked her who had broken her in. _He_ had. Utterly and completely.\n\nAnd it terrified her.\n\nLucy made up her mind.\n\n\"Then my question stays the same,\" she said, only the slightest tremble in her voice betraying her. \"What happens next?\"\n\nCiaran smiled at her, his teeth gleaming. \"You tell me to stop,\" he growled.\n\n# Chapter 9\n\n\"I... what?\" Lucy asked, confused.\n\n\"You heard me.\" Ciaran's eyes flashed. \"You fought me last night. Fight me again, now.\"\n\nLucy felt as though all the breath had been knocked out of her.\n\nCiaran narrowed his eyes. \"Or if you'd prefer... I could wait. The moon will be up soon, you know. I can control the force with which I take you now, but under the moonlight, with no earlier release to temper my desires...\"\n\nCiaran pressed her legs open, and stopped. Lucy could feel every one of his fingers pressing into her flesh.\n\nAnd that was all he did. He knelt there, his whole body poised to attack—and waited.\n\nLucy forced herself to breathe. _He's waiting for you to fight back_ , she thought, watching his eyes. _That's what he likes. That's—oh, hell—it's what you like, as well. He must know that now._\n\n_And if you don't... It will be worse than last night. Way worse._\n\nShe gritted her teeth, and slapped him.\n\nCiaran's eyes lit up. His grip on Lucy's legs tightened—and then he flipped her over and pulled her back down the bed in one movement, throwing her onto her stomach.\n\nLucy gasped as the breath was knocked out of her. She tried to wriggle away but Ciaran planted one firm hand on her lower back, pinning her in place.\n\nLucy lay with one cheek pressed against the mattress as Ciaran stroked her. With one hand still holding her down, his other one was free to explore her.\n\nHe was gentler than he'd been before, either in human or wolf-man form. His fingers brushed against Lucy's ass, her thighs, circling around her hips. She moaned. His touch was painfully, tantalizingly light.\n\nShe wanted him. Her whole body was screaming out for more, wet and hot and willing, desperate for him to stop playing and fuck her hard from behind.\n\n_You have to stop this._ The little voice in her head was back, quieter than before, almost completely silenced by her lust. _Before you're lost forever. You have to save yourself— now!_\n\nLucy clenched the bedsheets in her fists, frustrated tears squeezing from her eyes. She made up her mind.\n\nThe next time Ciaran's fingers slipped between her legs, she kicked back, twisting her body around at the same time. She wrapped one hand around her collar, stopping it from pulling against her neck.\n\nCiaran glared at her, his eyes golden and wild. \"What do you think you're doing?\" he snarled.\n\nLucy stuck out her chin, hoping her expression showed a confidence she didn't feel. Her heart quailed, but she didn't back down.\n\n\"You want me to fight?\" she challenged him, pulling at the collar. \"How much of a fight is it, when I'm tied down?\"\n\nCiaran's eyes narrowed, but not before she saw gold flare deep inside them. Excitement kindled inside Lucy, despite herself.\n\nShe knew what the gold meant, now. Ciaran's wolfish, domineering side. The part of him that wanted to hurt her until she screamed with pleasure.\n\nLucy took a deep breath that did nothing to cool the fire inside her. _Focus._\n\n\"Very well, pack-chaser,\" Ciaran growled. \"Have you at last decided to give up your pretense of ignorance? If you're the expert, tell me what it is you think I want.\"\n\nLucy licked her lips. She had one shot at this. If it didn't work, she would be trapped here forever—or worse. Maybe Ciaran would decide she wasn't worth the trouble, and kill her.\n\n\"I th-think you should take this collar off me, for a start,\" she said, wincing at the tremble in her voice. \"There's no point hunting something you already own, is there?\"\n\n\"Ah,\" Ciaran murmured, his eyes lighting up. \"A hunt... just before moonrise. You have dangerous ideas, pack-chaser. Tell me more.\"\n\nLucy swallowed. \"I still have all the clothes I was wearing when I came here. The shirts and pajamas you gave me, they're too easy for you to pull off. If I wore my own clothes while you were hunting me, you'd have to—to tear them off me. Leather's more of a challenge than cotton, isn't it?\"\n\n\"You want me to destroy your belongings? Your last connection to the world outside?\" Ciaran smiled coldly. \"I admit, the thought is... appealing.\" He stroked Lucy's breast, his fingers leaving goosebumps on her skin. \"A collar is one thing, but ruining everything you own, knowing that you'll rely on me even to clothe your body... yes, you do know what you're talking about, don't you? Your first trained you well.\"\n\nLucy's heart thundered in her chest, as though she was already running. \"So—you want to do it? And you'll give me a head start, to make it more of a challenge?\" she asked.\n\nCiaran shrugged. \"Maybe. Maybe not.\" He lifted his hand from Lucy's breast to her neck and for a moment, her breath caught in her throat.\n\nWhen he pulled his hands away, Lucy's collar was dangling from his fingers.\n\nLucy stood up slowly, relishing her freedom of movement. But she still had to make sure Ciaran wouldn't follow her too soon.\n\n\"It won't be much fun for you if you catch me before I'm even out the front door,\" she argued, mentally crossing her fingers. \"Before I'm even dressed.\"\n\n\"True.\" Ciaran tipped his head back, and Lucy thought she glimpsed a flash of gold in his eyes. Shameful desire flared inside her. \"Very well. You have until I've finished my breakfast.\"\n\nHe stood up and marched out of the room. Lucy exhaled, as though Ciaran, leaving the room had taken her breath with him.\n\nShe trailed after him, anxious that he would keep his word. He had gone straight to the kitchen, and she found him dropping a steak onto a plate.\n\nHe caught her eye, and licked a drop of blood from one finger.\n\n\"I'm sure you'll appreciate me slaking my hunger for bloody flesh before I drive my claws into you, sweetheart,\" he said sardonically.\n\nLucy inhaled, a sharp hiss of breath. She wished it was horror she was feeling, but it wasn't. It was excitement.\n\n_What's wrong with you?_\n\nCiaran dropped his plate on the kitchen bench and picked up a knife and fork. \"You're wasting time,\" he murmured, not looking at her, and sliced into the steak.\n\nLucy fled.\n\nShe managed to keep control of herself as she darted into the bathroom, gathering up her clothing from the day before. Pants, underwear, shirt, and her trusty leather jacket. She pulled them on, fingers trembling\n\nThen her nerve broke. She sprinted down the corridor, bursting out into the main hall. It took all the control she had to slow down as she approached the stairs. Breaking her neck wasn't part of the plan.\n\nShe stopped just inside the front doors. Her eyes flicked to her rucksack. The bag was lying where she'd left it the night before, but now, the top flap hung open.\n\n_Didn't Ciaran say he found my papers? My passport. Shit._\n\nLucy rifled through the valuables pocket in her rucksack, but it was empty. Her papers, wallet—gone.\n\nShe pulled on her boots, but left the bag. It would only slow her down. And if Ciaran saw that she'd taken it, and guessed...\n\nLucy hauled on the heavy doors, pushing outside as soon as there was space for her to squeeze through. It was bright outside, and she squinted in the sunlight.\n\nThere was the path. All she had to do was run.\n\nMuscles aching, Lucy forced herself to sprint. Every step seemed to awaken some new pain in her body. Her ankles throbbed. Her abs burnt, as though the whole middle of her body was caught in a red-hot vice.\n\n_This is what he did to you_ , she reminded herself as she dodged pot-holes. _Just one night._ Her feet slammed against broken paving stones. _Imagine what he might do with more time._\n\nShe didn't know what she was expecting. A howl? A roar? Instead, when Ciaran slipped from the castle and began his hunt, he was silent.\n\nLucy didn't know how she knew when the hunt began. She just _felt_ it, deep in her bones, and in the hairs that rose on the back of her neck.\n\nHer foot slipped on a wet stone and she stumbled forward onto all fours, just managing to push herself back upright before she lost momentum or, worse, fell. Gasping, she pressed on.\n\nShe could see the gates. Only a few glints of silver broke through the tarnished black metal, gleaming in the sunlight.\n\nLucy's heart leapt into her throat. _I must have made those marks when I climbed over. Was it really only last night?_\n\nYesterday, she'd thought the gates stood between her and shelter. Now, she knew they were the only thing between her and her freedom.\n\nSilver gates, to keep werewolves out—or to keep one in.\n\n_Why would he live here, trapped inside the gates?_ Lucy shook her head. _Too many questions. Stop asking them. The answers aren't worth the risk._\n\nA hundred yards. Seventy. Fifty. Ten.\n\nLucy reached out as she sprinted the last few steps. She was so close she could almost taste it. Metal, like the hot tang of fresh blood on her tongue...\n\n\"No!\"\n\nCiaran appeared out of nowhere, an impassioned roar on his lips. He struck her from the side, tackling her to the ground.\n\nLucy hit the ground hard. All the air left her body and she rolled, gasping.\n\nCiaran flipped her over. He wrapped his strong hands around her waist, making her hiss as his fingers found the bruises he'd left there the night before.\n\nShe glared up at him. His face was alight with a fierce, violent joy that twisted into pain as she drew her legs back and kicked him square in the stomach.\n\nHe fell back, doubled over. Lucy draw in a shaking breath. She scrambled to her feet, knowing she should run, but still in shock at what she'd done.\n\nCiaran lunged at her and she jumped back, light on her feet. He was slower, stumbling, one hand held to his ribs, a look of astonished delight on his face.\n\n\"Silver?\" he choked out.\n\n\"Silver,\" Lucy replied, her voice flat. Silver nails embedded in the soles of her boots. Her mother hadn't let her leave the country without them: her totally illegal lucky charm.\n\n\"You—it _hurts_ ,\" he grunted. His eyes widened. \"My God—I think you might have actually broken something. A broken bone. I didn't even think that was possible.\" He winced, and growled, \"What the hell do you think you're playing at?\"\n\n\"You're the one who called this a game,\" Lucy reminded him, backing away. At last she felt the bars of the gate at her back. Solid. Cold. _Silver._ \"Besides, I thought you said it was more fun when I fought back?\"\n\n\"You—\"\n\nLucy saw Ciaran's intention in his eyes. She spun around and threw herself up at the gate just as he sprang for her. She grasped for handholds, slipped, and pulled herself up.\n\n\"No!\" Ciaran's roar filled the air. She felt him move behind her, and climbed higher—but she wasn't fast enough. His hand closed over her ankle.\n\nLucy kicked, swearing, but Ciaran's grip was strong. She twisted, glaring down at him. \"Let. Me. Go!\"\n\n\"You're _mine_!\" Ciaran snarled. Gold rose up in his eyes, swallowing the black. His bared teeth lengthened, turning into fangs.\n\nReal terror curled inside Lucy, chilling her bones. She tightened her grip on the gate, knowing it would only be so long until Ciaran regained his full strength and hauled her down.\n\nThe silver. He was standing away from it, keeping a careful distance between himself and the powerful metal. Except for the hand grasping Lucy's ankle.\n\nShe gritted her teeth and twisted, rotating her ankle so that Ciaran's hand was between her foot and the silver gate.\n\nCiaran screamed, but didn't let her go. Lucy gathered every ounce of strength she had and ground his hand against the silver. The smell of burning flesh filled her nostrils and suddenly, she was free, toppling over the top of the gate and falling to the ground on the other side.\n\nThe other side. Safety.\n\nLucy rolled onto her back, panting. There it was. Her motorbike, just where she'd left it, leaning by the side of the road.\n\nShe crawled over to it, and flung herself over the seat, her panting breaths dissolving into helpless sobs.\n\nShe was free. _Free._ She could forget all about last night, and just treat it like—like it was nothing more than a horrible nightmare.\n\nShe could leave it all behind her.\n\nLeave _him_ behind her.\n\nA low moan brought her attention back to Ciaran on the other side of the gate. He was kneeling on the ground, cradling his burnt hand. Trapped in his silver prison.\n\nAnd Lucy was free.\n\nShe leaned back against her motorbike, staring through the silver gate at Ciaran. She'd won. Escaped.\n\nShe'd expected victory to feel more, well... victorious.\n\nInstead, as she watched Ciaran stumble to his feet, she felt empty.\n\nLucy reached up and grabbed the bike's handlebars. She hoped its solid presence would anchor her, but instead, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was spinning out of control. Lost.\n\n\"Lucy Abbotsford.\" Ciaran's voice was ragged. \"Was this your plan all along, then? Hunt me down, offer me your whole self—and then take it away?\"\n\nThe expression on his face was like nothing Lucy had seen before. He looked hurt. Betrayed.\n\n\"I told you,\" she said, not sure why her voice was cracking. \"I told you I didn't come here on purpose. I didn't have any plan.\"\n\n\"But you were so perfect,\" he breathed. \"Everything you did... Who taught you? Tell me that, at least. Who broke you in?\"\n\n\"I don't know what that means,\" Lucy said, slowly standing up. \"But if it means who was the first werewolf __ I ever slept with... it's _you_.\"\n\n\"You're lying.\" Ciaran's voice was hoarse. \"If that's true, then...\"\n\nHe groaned and closed his eyes, as though his head was pounding. Lucy's eyes widened as she saw what was happening.\n\nCiaran was doubled over, his muscles jerking. Black hair sprouted from his arms and chest. Lucy stared at the sky, searching for a moon that was nowhere to be seen.\n\n_He's not a true werewolf. What if he doesn't even need the moon to transform?_\n\nLucy's breath caught in her throat. If her plan had failed—if she hadn't gotten away from Ciaran—who knows what he might have done to her in his wolf-man form, when he knew she'd tried to run away?\n\nLucy's blood was like ice in her veins. She turned the key on her motorbike, and her knees went weak with relief when the engine roared.\n\nShe didn't have her wallet, her passport, or her helmet. But, by God, she was getting out of here.\n\n\"Wait!\" Ciaran shouted as she turned the bike around.\n\nLucy looked back over her shoulder. Ciaran was standing close to the silver gate, his part-transformation all but complete. His eyes burned gold, blazing into hers, straight to her heart.\n\n\"Where will you go?\" he choked out. Lucy could see the effort it took him to form the words, fighting back against the burning rage and violence of his transformed self.\n\n\"Why would I tell you? So you can come find me?\" Inside Lucy, a treacherous voice asked: _Would that be so bad?_\n\nShe shook her head. Ciaran might have been happy to toy with her before, but now? After she'd escaped from him, and wounded him with silver? She'd be lucky to get out of their next meeting alive.\n\nBut somehow, she found herself telling him. \"I don't know where I'll go. Somewhere safe, I hope.\" She paused, and a memory flickered through her mind. \"Somewhere with a forest. Pines, so thick it's like being in an ocean of trees, and everything in shadows except for the moon above.\"\n\nLucy's voice trailed away as she looked at Ciaran. Her words had a strange effect on him. All his violent rage seemed to melt away, leaving only a dawning expression of horror mingled with hope.\n\n\"The forest? Please—Lucy—you must stay, you have to listen to me—\"\n\nLucy knew that if she waited a moment later, she would. All her self-control would dissolve, and she would lose herself to the wolf.\n\nShe couldn't risk that. She had a whole life outside of these walls, and she wanted to live it to the full.\n\nBut despite the fact she knew she was making the right decision, the sensible decision, tears sprung from her eyes as she rode away.\n\nBehind her, the werewolf howled his misery to the moon.\n\n# A note from Juno Blake\n\nThank you for buying my book! I hope you enjoyed it. If you'd like me to email you when I have a new book out, please click here to sign up for my newsletter. You can also find me on Facebook!\n\nPlease consider reviewing _Trapped by the Wolf_. I love to hear from readers and appreciate all reviews, even if you only write a line or two.\n\n**But wait—Ciaran isn't finished with Lucy yet...**\n\nLucy and Ciaran's painfully pleasurable relationship deepens in _Claimed by the Wolf_ , Book 2 in the Werewolf Fever series _._\n\nLucy won her freedom after her painfully pleasurable night with Ciaran—but will she be able to leave what happened at the castle behind? And what does Ciaran really want from her?\n\nRead on for a sample chapter from _Claimed by the Wolf_ _._\n\n# SAMPLE CHAPTER\n\n### Claimed by the Wolf\n\n**By Juno Blake**\n\n# CLAIMED BY THE WOLF\n\n### CHAPTER ONE\n\nAll the world was forest, and the forest was the world. Lucy ran through the trees on a carpet of fallen pine needles, her heart singing.\n\nAbove her, the moon blazed silver. Shafts of white light cut through the branches, crosshatching the forest floor.\n\nLucy ran—and the wolf followed.\n\nShe ran, the cold night air whipping past her face, and the wolf chased her, as it did every night.\n\nIt was a dream. Even now, driving her toes into the damp forest floor with every stride, she knew it was a dream.\n\nAnd she knew who the wolf was. His name was already on her lips. _Ciaran._\n\nCiaran Mallory, the coldly passionate Scottish werewolf. She'd spent one single night in his castle as his captive, prey to his every sexual whim.\n\nHe'd tormented her, forcing pleasure from her body in ways she never thought possible. And every night since she had escaped his castle, she'd found herself here: in the forest, running from the wolf.\n\nRunning from Ciaran.\n\nLucy's breath burned in her lungs, but her dreaming body thrilled at the hunt. She could feel him behind her, his golden eyes raking over her body as he chased her.\n\nHe was getting closer. With every step, he gained on her, his powerful strides longer and faster than Lucy's. He was bigger than her. Stronger than her. He could overpower her as easily as swatting a fly.\n\nAll he had to do was catch her.\n\nAnd when he did...\n\nLucy groaned. For six weeks she'd had this dream. Each night, she'd run until her lungs burned and her feet were cut and bleeding. Ciaran had gotten closer, and closer—but she'd always woken up before he caught her.\n\nShe had sworn to herself that she would never let Ciaran dominate her again.\n\n_But this isn't real life. It's a dream. It's not real..._\n\nBut her feelings were. _Why else would I dream about this every night?_\n\nLucy's whole body throbbed with desire as she heard Ciaran's heavy footsteps on the forest floor grow closer. She could keep running. Do the same thing she'd done every night since she escaped, and run until she woke up, hot and sweating and frustrated. Or...\n\nShe could give in to him.\n\nHer breath caught in her throat. Give in—and give up her body to the werewolf.\n\nHer brain rebelled at the thought, but her body thrilled at it. Give in to his strength, his rough, violent passion. Lose herself in her own body's shameful pleasure.\n\nLucy's foot caught on a root and she stumbled, throwing her hands out to stop her fall. She rolled over, scrambling in the needle-covered dirt.\n\nA shadow moved through the trees, so fast she only got glimpses of it: long, hairy arms tipped with claws. A muscular torso. Sharp fangs gleaming in the moonlight.\n\nLucy pushed herself up onto her elbows, heart in her throat. He was so close, there was no chance she would be able to get up before he was on top of her.\n\n_Is this what I want?_ Time seemed to slow down. _Is this what I've always wanted? To be completely in Ciaran's power?_\n\nLucy told herself it couldn't be true. She had been terrified and confused every moment of her captivity in the castle. In all her life she'd never been so helpless—or so aroused.\n\nMaybe that was what had terrified her so much. Everything Ciaran had done to her... she'd enjoyed it. And she wanted more. Even if she could only admit it in her dreams.\n\nCiaran bust out from the trees. He was in his full-moon form, his body still human-shaped but over seven feet tall with rippling muscles. His hands were huge, with a claw-like nail at the end of each long finger. His face was fierce, inhuman, fangs bursting through his lips and heavy brows shadowing his eyes.\n\nAnd his eyes...\n\nLucy went limp, drowning in the golden blaze of Ciaran's wolf eyes.\n\n\"Hello, Lucy,\" he growled, his voice thick with desire. She whimpered as he tore her shirt from her body, exposing her bare skin to the cold night air and his lustful gaze. He reached for her...\n\n...And Lucy woke up.\n\nShe stared at the peeling paint on the ceiling, panting. Bedsheets were strewn around her, knotted around her legs. Her whole body was slick with cold sweat.\n\nFor a moment, Lucy couldn't remember where she was. The forest still pressed in on her mind, long branches stretching like arms towards the moon. She closed her eyes, desperate to bring it back. _Just one more moment,_ she begged. _Just to feel his touch..._\n\nIt was no use. She was awake, in her cramped, damp London flat.\n\nSafe.\n\nHundreds of miles from Ciaran Mallory in his silver-walled castle.\n\nShe should have been glad. Instead, she was so frustrated she could feel tears stinging at the corners of her eyes.\n\nLucy couldn't hide the truth from herself any longer. Ciaran Mallory terrified her. If she hadn't escaped, he might have ended up killing her. At the very least, he would have used her, again and again, forcing himself on her regardless of her cries for mercy.\n\nAnd Lucy wanted more. Her dreams, the thrill of desire that rushed through her whenever she remembered Ciaran's assaults on her body... It made her sick, but she couldn't deny it any longer. Ciaran Mallory had taken her, body and soul, and she would never be satisfied by another man.\n\nTears squeezed out of Lucy's eyes as she shut them tight. She had thought she could leave what happened in the castle behind her, like a nightmare that would disappear in the light of day.\n\nInstead, it was going to haunt her forever.\n\nShe groaned and sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the narrow single bed. _Haunted or not, I have to get on with my life_ , she thought, gritting her teeth. _What's left of it, at least._\n\nBefore she met Ciaran Mallory, Lucy had her life all figured out. Her career as a photographer was just taking off. She had saved for years to fund her travels through Europe, excited by the prospect of adventure and life on the road—and the chance to take more of the sorts of atmospheric landscape photos she'd made her name with.\n\nAll that had changed in one night. Lucy had been forced to leave behind most of her belongings when she fled from Ciaran and his brutal demands—including her passport and wallet.\n\nNo passport. Barely any money. Worst of all, no camera. All that work, lost.\n\nLucy had fled on her motorbike as far as she could, begging and stealing food and fuel until she found herself in London. She'd sold her bike, planning to hide in the city until she could raise the money for a ticket back home to America.\n\nToday was an important day. The process of getting her passport replaced had been long and aggravating, but today the Embassy was finally going to hand it over. By this evening, she would be one step closer to putting an ocean between herself and Ciaran Mallory.\n\nBut first... she needed a cold shower.\n\nLucy hurried through to the flat's cramped bathroom. Luckily, none of the other people who were living in the over-crowded house were using it. She stepped into the shower, hissing at the cold water.\n\nThe house was so run-down, it didn't have hot water. Most of Lucy's housemates grumbled about it, but Lucy was grateful. Nothing else helped to dampen down her body's shameful lust for the werewolf whose clutches she'd fled from.\n\nShe stood under the icy water, shivering as it trickled over her breasts and belly. Every time she closed her eyes, she could still see Ciaran's gaze, pinning her to the ground.\n\nThe bruises from her night in the castle had faded weeks ago, but sometimes, Lucy still thought she could feel Ciaran's hands on her body. His firm, entitled touch as he squeezed her breasts and raked his claws across her sides. The pressure of his fingers on her waist as he pulled her towards him...\n\nSomeone knocked on the bathroom door, shocking Lucy out of her memories. She gasped and splashed cold water over her face.\n\n\"What?\" she yelled over the sound of the shower.\n\n\"Can you hurry up? I've got to get to work!\"\n\nLucy recognized the voice as that of Sibby, one of her housemates. Sighing, she turned off the shower and wrapped herself in a threadbare towel.\n\n\"It's all yours,\" she told Sibby as she pushed past her and scurried back to her bedroom.\n\n\"Thanks!\" Sibby called over her shoulder. Lucy smiled at her as she wedged her bedroom door shut. Sibby was the same age as Lucy, although sometimes Lucy felt a lot older than her. She was a fresh-faced new graduate who'd only just moved from her small village to London. Everything in the city seemed to amaze and delight her... even the rats that crept into their flat's poky kitchen at night.\n\nSome days, Lucy wished she was still as innocent about the world as Sibby was.\n\nThe door to her bedroom was skewed, and only closed properly if Lucy threw her whole weight against it. Whoever had installed it couldn't have been a real builder. In fact, Lucy suspected that the landlord had just nailed new doorways in front of every nook and cranny in the building, creating new \"bedrooms\" in spaces that had previously been closets, pantries, the ends of corridors and anywhere else he could fit in an extra closet-sized room.\n\nAs a result, Lucy's room was just big enough to fit her single bed and a small cupboard where she kept the few possessions she'd been able to gather together since she made her way to London. The most important of these were her second-hand laptop and camera.\n\nShe'd spent most of the money from selling her motorbike on these two items. It was foolish and frivolous, but Lucy didn't really feel whole without a camera, even a cheap second-hand one. It was nothing compared to the DSLR she had lost at Ciaran's castle, but it was something, at least.\n\nBesides, it was a practical purchase. Lucy had made a living as a photographer before, and she intended to do so again. She'd already done a few small jobs since she arrived in London, mainly taking cutesy photos of people's children and pets. It wasn't much money—but it was a start.\n\nAnd it was less humiliating than waiting tables. At least puppies didn't try to pinch her ass as she walked by.\n\nLucy dried herself off quickly and got dressed. Her appointment at the Embassy wasn't for another few hours, and she needed to find some way to keep her mind occupied. Work would distract her from the glowing golden eyes in her imagination.\n\nShe grabbed her laptop and sat back on her bed, waiting for it to boot up.\n\nHer eyes roamed around the bare walls as she waited, lingering on the mysterious stain that had started getting bigger ever since the last big downpour.\n\n_Ew. At least the castle didn't have black mold..._\n\nLucy shook herself. _Don't even joke about that. Focus on what you need to do to get home. And_ fast.\n\nShe still found it difficult to accept that everything she owned fit in this tiny room. Just a few changes of clothes, a pair of boots, and her laptop, camera and phone.\n\n_Not for long_ , she told herself firmly. _Today, you'll get your passport back. After that, all you need to do is save another few hundred pounds to get a ticket back home._\n\nAt last her laptop finished booting. Lucy logged onto her email, idling scrolling past spam messages and social media notifications to find any new work emails. She wasn't expecting anything, but something caught her eye:\n\n_Blackpaw Pack: An Exclusive Invitation_.\n\n* * *\n\nClick here to keep reading!\n", "meta": {"pile_set_name": "BookCorpus2"}}
{"text": "\n\nElle and The Escape\n\nThe Hero Chronicles\n\nBy Tim Mettey\n\nCopyright © 2016 by Tim Mettey\n\nAll rights reserved.\n\nPublished by Kenwood Publishing Group.\n\nKENWOOD PUBLISHING GROUP\n\nwww.kenwoodpublishinggroup.com\n\nCincinnati, Ohio\n\nIf you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as \"unsold and destroyed\" to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment from this \"stripped book.\"\n\nNo part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrievable system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher. For more information regarding permission, write to Kenwood Publishing Group, Attention: Permission Department, 11060 Kenwood Road, Cincinnati, Ohio 45242.\n\nISBN-10: 0-9977292-3-6\n\nISBN-13: 978-0-9977292-3-8\n\"We are the music-makers and we are the dreamers of dreams.\"\n\n— Arthur O'Shaunessy\n\nQuoted by Gene Wilder\nACKNOWLEDGEMENTS\n\nI would like to thank all of the talented people who help make my books sound and look good.\nTABLE OF CONTENTS\n\nChapter 1: Search\n\nChapter 2: Speak\n\nChapter 3: Escape\n\nChapter 4: Keeper\n\nChapter 5: Forecast\n\nChapter 6: Saved\n\nChapter 7: Death\n\nChapter 8: Wheelbarrow\n\nChapter 9: Cellar\n\nChapter 10: Ghost\n\nChapter 11: Purpose\n\nChapter 12: Keeper Siegel\n\nChapter 13: Scared\n\nChapter 14: Clean up\n\nChapter 15: Color\n\nChapter 16: Journey\n\nChapter 17: Leave\n\nThe 2016 Hero Chronicles Writing Contest\n\nGRAND PRIZE: Not in the Pink of Health\n\nFIRST RUNNER UP: A Spark of Hope\n\nSECOND RUNNER UP: Finding Mom\n\nConnect with the Author\n\nAbout the Author\n\n\"Let's do one more circle. I thought I saw Xavier's Sil hanging around Ester's vault earlier. And since we struck out with your sister, Livi, I need . . .\" I paused, and then, trying not to sound desperate, said, \"I want to try to get some information Nicholas can use.\"\n\n\"I bet Zane and Courtney are heading down for the challenge,\" Noel responded, ignoring how pathetic I sounded. She was good at that, because I sounded pathetic most of the time. Well, maybe not as often anymore, because I was trying to remind myself I was actually needed. \"So there isn't really anything we can do,\" Noel said in a patronizing tone.\n\nI didn't really care how she felt about any of this. She reminded me constantly I didn't have anything to prove to anyone, but that was easy for her to say. She was an elite Thusian bodyguard trained by Walter. I was just an average nobody.\n\n\"And now, if everyone could head down to the arena for the second challenge.\" James Caldwell's voice rang out all around us. It was as if he was on my shoulder or right behind me, which sent chills down my spine.\n\nNoel put her hands out as if to say, \"See, I told you so.\"\n\nI was tired of not being useful. Nicholas needs a partner who can contribute equally, someone like Genevieve who can take care of him and be useful. A sinking feeling started to well up in my stomach. Maybe I had been right all along thinking Nicholas and Genevieve would end up together; maybe it was their destiny or something.\n\n\"Elle, we should go down to the challenge now. We'll have plenty of time to search later; I promise.\"\n\nI didn't move or even acknowledge what she had said. I was too distracted by the thought of Genevieve and Nicholas being together.\n\n\"Elle, did you hear me?\" she questioned quietly but firmly.\n\n\"Let's look for just a little longer and then we can head down,\" I said, unwilling to give up on the chance of finding some useful information. I was also not willing to give up on being with Nicholas, at least not yet.\n\nWe circled back around toward Ester's vault. Everyone was gone from the floor already, making it feel like some underground medieval castle that had been abandoned for a thousand years. I was expecting a ghost to come down the middle of the corridor.\n\nAfter searching for another ten minutes, we found no Sils or any other sign of life. Everyone must have been at the Trial. We heard a lot of commotion coming from the center of Valcary Hill, down on the ground floor. The Second Trial had begun.\n\n\"Come on, let's go down there and wait for them to be finished,\" Noel said from behind me.\n\nI began to walk in that direction, but I stopped suddenly. A cracking sound made me flinch. I spun around only to see a black bag being forced over my head. I instinctively remembered what my dad had taught me. I kicked straight ahead and my foot landed between the knees of the person who was trying to take me. My assailant groaned, making me believe I had hurt whoever it was badly. I tugged at the bag and tried to run but something struck my head. Stars flashed and then nothing.\n\n***\n\n\"Well, what do we have here?\" Xavier's question was the first thing I heard as I regained consciousness. I couldn't see anything, and now my hands were bound behind my back. I was helpless, again.\n\nHis voice was cold, but there was a slight excitement in it, as if he was getting an early Christmas present or something.\n\n\"Ashlyn alerted me that these two were looking around and asking questions about us,\" a man's voice answered.\n\n\"Very good job, you two,\" Xavier said, pulling off the bag and removing my hood.\n\nAt first the light was blinding, and my head was pounding from having been hit. After a minute, Xavier, Grey and Ashlyn came into focus, and next to me was a badly beaten and battered Noel, slumped over on the ground.\n\n\"Noel, are you okay?\" I leaned down to her to see if she was still alive.\n\nI saw her take a labored breath, so I stood back up and I turned my attention to our three vile captors. \"How dare you attack us? You have no right. While we're here, we're all protected.\"\n\n\"You're half right, my dear,\" Xavier's cold voice purred. \"We aren't allowed to act against fellow Thusians, and Grey has already been punished for what he did to Noel.\"\n\nI glanced over at Grey and noticed right away he had a bandage on his right hand and it was bloody, as if the wound hadn't stopped bleeding yet.\n\nXavier continued, \"But where you're wrong is this: the rule doesn't apply to a Non, and that's what you are, a non-Thusian. There are no rules against hurting you. On the contrary, there is one rule which permits the extermination of any non-Thusians who find their way inside Valcary Hill . . . and you, my little dove, are clearly here.\"\n\n\"What about saving others? You know, the very reason Thusians were put on this earth in the first place. Your Final Sacrifice. Isn't that why you go through your Realization?\"\n\nAt first Xavier didn't say a thing. He brushed his blond hair to the side, thinking for a moment. Maybe he was shocked I knew so much.\n\n\"Impressive, but that's only what the Council wants you to believe. Anyway, enough of this talk. If you want to die quickly and painlessly, then answer my questions. But if you prefer not to answer, you will suffer at the hands of Grey for everyone to see.\"\n\nHe began to circle me like a lion sizing up its prey. \"So tell me, little dove, what are you interested in learning? What are you all trying to find out?\"\n\nNoel sprang to her feet. She head-butted Grey hard and used her shoulder to drive him to the ground. He gasped for air, falling backward. Xavier was there so fast, I didn't see him move. He backhanded Noel, sending her off balance. She fell face first onto the ground and didn't move.\n\n\"Really, Noel, why try? I think you and my little dove know there's no way to escape,\" Xavier said. Then he looked back at me and warned, \"Don't make me hurt you. I don't want Nicholas to think I mistreated you, because that would not send a good message.\"\n\n\"You're half the man Nicholas is,\" I spat out, leaning over again to see how badly Noel was hurt.\n\n\"I may have at one time agreed with you, but what he has done to the Thusians and our way of life has been a mockery, and for that he will pay, along with the rest of The 4.\"\n\nI needed to buy us some more time, hoping someone from Walter's security team might be watching the three of them and would find us before Xavier could follow through with his plans.\n\n\"Ashlyn, how could you do this after everything your sister has done for you?\" I questioned loudly, looking around for anyone who may have heard me.\n\n\"Trying to get someone's attention? So smart, little dove. But as you can hear, things are getting really intense down there,\" Xavier said, holding up a hand to his ear.\n\nSure enough there were more oohs and ahhs from the arena and a lot of chatter.\n\n\"Grey, you and Ashlyn take these two down to the floor and wait off to the side. And then bring them out front and center when I motion to you. Ashlyn, once they're in place, you and Steel need to go and prepare for our departure. Steel is good but doesn't always use common sense when it comes to dealing with others. We'll be ready to leave as soon as we take care of the new Keeper and The 4.\"\n\nWe were being dragged down a long set of stone stairs I had never seen before. Several times I tried to yell or scream, but it was no use. The Trial was growing louder and louder. Ashlyn had a tight grip on my arm so I couldn't even look back or around. Noel was hitting each step with a thud. The sound of it was making me sick, because of the continual injuries she must be sustaining. Grey didn't care who was hurt; he just did what he was told.\n\n\"Ahh,\" Noel groaned like she wanted to say something once we got to the bottom.\n\nI jerked my arm to be able to see her. She had a strange look on her face. What was wrong with her?\n\nShe groaned again but this time it turned into a laugh, \"Hahaha.\" In a broken, but not defeated voice, she said, \"You two are so pathetic. Do you honestly think you're upholding the Thusians' way of life or even the life of a Seeker? You two are just Xavier's errand boys, oh and girl.\"\n\nGrey struck her jaw with his fist and blood splattered onto the ground, but it didn't faze her a bit.\n\n\"Is that all you got, big boy?\" she said, spitting blood at him. \"You're a joke. All you're doing is proving my point you mindless, bald albino.\"\n\nHe pulled his hand back to hit her again but stopped immediately when Ashlyn said, \"Enough.\" Her unwavering voice froze him in mid-swing, as if she had spit invisible ice at his arm and it couldn't move forward. Was Grey that scared of Ashlyn? Or was she somehow in charge?\n\nI looked at her face. She didn't seem to have anything else to say; she had said all that was needed. It was amazing how much she and Genevieve looked like one another.\n\n\"Stone. Diamond. Blood.\" Those words shook all of us where we stood. Grey and Ashlyn's faces looked not scared, but unsure of what was happening. There was a sound like hundreds of elephants charging, but it quickly died down. Then a lone voice declared, \"And because I'm the Keeper, I dismiss the Council and confirm that The 4 has been completed.\"\n\nThere was no doubt in my mind that Mark was the one talking, but what was he thinking? Was this part of a plan that hadn't been shared with me? Did Nicholas know this was going to happen with Mark? Did he not trust me?\n\nSomeone else began to talk at the Trial, but I didn't pay attention because my mind was spinning. I wasn't sure what to think now. Did Nicholas not trust me enough to tell me about Mark taking on the Council? No, he was telling me everything now—wasn't he? Then a voice inside me said, You aren't Genevieve. She's the one for him. It was that little voice of doubt everyone has, but this time it sounded a lot more convincing. My surroundings melted away. Even though I was pretty sure I was about to die, the doubt I had about everything was now the only thing that mattered, spreading like a poisonous plague in me.\n\nGrey was ushering us out to somewhere, and one of them threw the shroud hood over my head again.\n\nBy the time I was able to focus on my surroundings again, I realized I was in the midst of all the Thusians and in front of me were Mark, Cora and Nicholas. I wanted to shout to them, but couldn't.\n\nXavier was out in front of us, pacing around and talking to everyone, obviously loving being the center of attention. His words were muted. That little voice was making me numb, not allowing me to hear, but I still had my sight so I could see everything. I watched Nicholas, committing his face to memory. If this was going to be the last time I ever got to see him, then his face was the only thing I would want to see once I closed my eyes for the final time in this life.\n\nThe hood was pulled off my head. Nicholas' face had the same expression I had seen many times before. His face tensed up, exposing the muscles in his jaw. His eyes widened, showing me his beautiful blue eyes I had gazed into so often and fallen in love with each time. He was about to use his Thusians talents, and I could see his entire body stiffen. I was not sure if he would succeed in saving us, but if anyone could do it, he could.\n\n\"Someone should pay for the sins against our forefathers,\" Xavier was saying, as my hearing became clear again.\n\nGrey put a sharp blade of some sort up to my neck. I could feel the cold steel pressing harder, slowly working its way into my skin.\n\n\"We're going to kill this non-Thusian in just a minute, but we'll spare the Thusian because we can't act against a Thusian inside these walls. Rules will be rules. This girl will be the sacrifice that is necessary.\"\n\nI closed my eyes and pictured Nicholas' face. We were under the stairs at Winsor High School. He was watching me eat as he did so often. My stomach swirled with love and care. He had a smile on his face, laughing at me—it was perfect.\n\nI hoped Heaven would be like this for me, with Nicholas. \"I love you Mom and Dad,\" I whispered. \"I'll be waiting for you, Nicholas, in Heav—\" Before I could finish what I was saying, I was thrown to the side, free of Grey's grip. I was able to turn back to see a blurred Nicholas in mid-air, shoving his knee into Grey's jaw, sending him backwards.\n\nThe wind was whipping all around us, causing my hair to become matted to my face. My head was humming, making it hard to figure out which way we needed to go to get out of here. I was still stunned by the fight going on behind us, but I had to be strong for Noel right now. She needed me. As we were fleeing Valcary Hill, she had immobilized several Seekers with ease, even in her injured state. Now I had to come through for her, and at the same time, protect myself. Most importantly, I wanted to do what was best for Nicholas, so I had to get as far away from him as possible.\n\nI realized that Noel was hurt even worse than I had thought, and who knew what we would face out in the open?\n\n\"Please, you need to stay with me,\" I pleaded to Noel, who was barely able to climb. She continued to stumble, getting tripped up on the stairs as we passed the rock to the outside.\n\nI had both of my arms around her, trying to drag her forward toward the bridge. If I could just get us into the woods, we would have some cover and might have a chance to escape. Her legs gave out, nearly pulling us both to the ground.\n\n\"Please God, give me strength,\" I prayed, pulling her up and dragging her to the other side of the bridge.\n\nMy plan was to get away from Nicholas, but the farther I went, the lonelier and more unsure I felt about any of this. I knew Noel had a safe house in Ohio, because she had told me a million times, trying to convince me to go. It had never been the right time before, but now it was. I felt like we had to get there. We had no other choice.\n\nI looked back and forth for any Seekers, but luckily there wasn't anyone else around yet. Just then I heard the croak of a large bullfrog, and one of my many childhood fears rushed back to me. What if there were a lot more frogs out here? I shook my head, trying to forget my silly phobia. \"Elle,\" I said. \"There are real, life-threatening dangers out here, and you're worried about a little frog.\" I had to be strong and continue on.\n\nA slow trickle of people began to run out of Valcary Hill, but they were far away from us. I didn't pay any attention to them, because we weren't safe yet. Once we made it to the edge of the forest, I propped Noel up against a large tree, which easily hid both of us from the masses of people now pouring over the bridge. Several Seekers still in their shrouds descended upon the crowd like vultures going after fresh meat. I turned away as the screams for help became deafening. These Seekers were out for blood and would kill anyone in their path. We couldn't stay here much longer; they would eventually find us. But what chance did we stand? I wasn't a Thusian. I couldn't do what any of them could.\n\n\"Be calm,\" I told myself. \"Think.\" I looked around to see what our options were. There had to be some way to escape this chaos.\n\nBehind us, deeper in the woods, were thick vines covering the ground where it began to slope up. And farther on was the way to the little chalet where we had waited before coming down for the Trials. I pulled Noel up. She seemed to have gotten back some of her strength, trying to stand. It was just enough to move us toward the safety of the vines. We ended up in a particularly dense and overgrown part of the vegetation. She collapsed, so I pulled off my shroud and put it under her head. The thicket made her immediately vanish. I laid down too, away from her a little bit. I immediately covered my ears so I wouldn't hear the screams and cries, but it was no use. The despair and hopelessness of all this death were overwhelming. The Seekers were slaying people just a stone's throw away, and there was nothing I could do about it. Tears welled up in my eyes. How I wished Nicholas was here to protect these innocent people. He would make sure no one died at the hands of the Seekers. And here I hid, completely useless, as usual.\n\nMy head began to hurt more and more. A stabbing pain behind my right eye began to pulse, making my vision blur. The branches above me were becoming a great big green blob with black and blue spots. I blinked, trying to clear my vision. Then I heard Xavier's voice calling me his little dove. I grabbed my head, squeezing it, hoping for some relief from everything. It did help a little, but nothing could force out the cold, cruel voice of Xavier.\n\nThe four of us followed the Sils up a series of stairs leading higher and higher inside Valcary Hill. I was barely hanging on. All I could think about now was Elle and where she might have gone. I kept asking myself if going into hiding was the right thing for Elle after she and Noel were almost killed by Xavier and Grey. I guess it made sense, but I still couldn't help thinking it wasn't the best idea.\n\n\"Up ahead,\" Aldara said, stopping as soon as we entered a large chamber. It looked old and neglected. Several different Sils were on ladders, cleaning cobwebs off of the thousands of books lining the walls. The shelves that housed these books were random and haphazard. The person who had made this room had cut directly into the stone, creating these unbalanced bookshelves. In the center of the room was a skinny tree which reached up and out through the ceiling.\n\nMark was up ahead, and on either side of him were the large Sils who had been at Ester's vault entrance when Riley and I had gone to gather information. Mark didn't have any expression on his face, just a vacant stare. Actually, he looked as if he had aged twenty years; his face was very gaunt. He was holding a slim metal sheet similar to the one Zane had used down in the TABs headquarters on Vanderbilt's campus. He was swiping back and forth on it.\n\n\"Before you come any closer,\" Mark said, holding up his hand, \"you need to know that no matter what you do to us, things have already been set in motion.\" He began pacing back and forth, looking frightened.\n\n\"What are you talking about?\" Riley questioned in a thick Irish accent, making sure everyone knew he meant business. No one moved. Mark stopped pacing.\n\n\"I have Elle and Noel, and if Nicholas doesn't do exactly what I ask of him, they'll be executed.\"\n\nOnce again, my body was consumed by fire, but this time, I didn't act on it. I controlled my body, which was screaming and yearning for me to take out everyone in here including Mark, but something stopped me.\n\n\"Are you kidding? This has to be a joke,\" Genevieve said with rage in her voice.\n\n\"This is no joke, and the fact that Nicholas hasn't stopped us means he knows I'm serious.\"\n\n\"What do I have to do?\" I spit out, still controlling my body, hoping I wouldn't break.\n\n\"Follow me.\" He motioned for us to follow him.\n\nThe large Sils surrounded him and followed closely, and Aldara appeared and joined us. She was looking at me constantly as we walked, sizing me up, I guess trying to see if I was planning to do something.\n\nI knew Mark, or at least I hoped I did. He would never hurt Elle, or anyone for that matter. He might be the new Keeper, but he was still the same scared roommate who didn't know what he was doing half the time and the same kid I had rescued during the 10-10 Earthquake.\n\nWe ventured through a series of corridors of polished stone. The passage was dimly lit, but the reflective nature of the stone made the walls seem as if they were glowing and alive, moving with each step. As we walked on, the walls lost their shine and became dull and very jagged. The corridor became narrower, with only room for two to walk side by side. Genevieve was right beside me and found my hand, holding on tight. Her hand was clammy and cold. I wasn't sure if her nerves were for Elle, me, herself or all of us. But whatever the reason was, I felt the same way.\n\nMark stopped in front of a small wooden door with rusted metal crisscrossed across it like crust lattice on a homemade apple pie.\n\n\"Nicholas,\" he said to me, \"you need to go into the next room. I cannot tell you what is in there or what you have to do. But this is what must be done. Once you're finished, Elle and Noel will be released.\"\n\n\"You expect him to go in there?\" Cora uttered, sounding like she was now about to act on her motherly instincts.\n\n\"I'll do it,\" I said, trying to reassure her and myself at the same time. My talents were still aching to take over, but for Elle's sake, I had to focus on doing whatever was on the other side of that door.\n\nOne of the large Sils took out a massive key ring filled with old metal keys, each one different from the next. He picked a shiny red one, stuck it into the center of the door, and turned it with a jerk. The door groaned as if it hadn't been opened in centuries.\n\n\"Once inside the room, you'll sit,\" Mark said.\n\nRiley grabbed my arm and whispered, \"We'll be right outside. If you need any help, say the word and we'll get you out.\"\n\nI nodded and went into the room. The door shut. I blinked several times, and the white fire I had experienced so many times before descended over everything, illuminating the room. It was small, no bigger than a walk-in closet. There was a wooden bench to the left of the door, and across from it was a wall filled with holes. Something was familiar about the different openings covering the wall. I sat down and began to wait. I counted the holes, which were emitting a white light. There were nine of them—three on top of three on top of three—laid out in a grid, but not evenly spaced.\n\nOther than the seat, there was nothing else in here. Then a loud sound burst through one of the holes like a fog horn with a deep rattling tone. A variety of sounds started coming at me, mixing together like one big soup of noise. It continued to get louder and louder as if each of the holes were a mini speaker blaring its own music.\n\nI tried to cover my ears, but it didn't help. Everything was too loud. What was I supposed to do now? What if I couldn't do whatever was expected? Would Elle still be—? But before I finished that thought, the sounds ceased except for a single one. It was in the form of a lady's voice. She was singing a beautiful, angelic melody. I had never heard anything like it. She sounded like an opera singer, each note clear and precise. My mind calmed, and my surroundings fell away. I was in a different place with the notes holding me there; I felt bliss. A burst of bright red blobs exploded in front of me, like a firework filled with paint. When she hit and held another note, the splatter became blue. As she continued, different colors burst around me. If the note was quick, so was the color, and if it was louder and more intense, the color was too. It was remarkable, and I felt empowered.\n\nThen a second voice, a male one, accompanied her. A duet. This produced double the amount of colors, mixing in large swooping swirls. After what seemed like hours, I began to notice a scene like a black and white photo coming through the colors, taking on a life of its own. It was Elle and Noel. They were safe, but something was wrong. Before I could focus on them, I saw Zane, Livi, and the TABs sitting at Vanderbilt in some sort of meeting. Then another scene appeared showing Ester and the Divine Council meeting in the Thusian Vault in West Virginia; everyone looked scared. Next, I saw Mark and the Sils walking around the room I had just come from, looking at different screens and constantly talking to each other. Scene after scene appeared and then disappeared. My head felt like it was being filled with information. It went on for so long. Right when I thought I couldn't take any more, there was nothing. The music and the visions stopped as abruptly as they had started.\n\nI relaxed and found myself lost in all I had seen. I leaned back against the cool wall behind me and the room went quiet and dark, void of anything. My body was sore, and each muscle made its presence known. I must have been in here for hours. I stood and the door opened next me.\n\nMark, Cora, Riley and Genevieve were peering in.\n\n\"Elle and Noel are not here,\" I said. Everyone smiled, including Mark, who was nodding his head. I walked out of the room, rubbing my stiff neck.\n\n\"Nicholas, I'm sorry I lied to you about Elle—they were the first to leave Valcary Hill—but it was the only way I could convince you to go in there and come out okay. Bernard warned me not to let you experience that room unless you had your Thusian Talents on the surface, and this was the only way I knew how to do it.\"\n\n\"Are you okay?\" Genevieve asked, coming in and putting her arm around me, bringing me out of the room.\n\n\"Yes, I feel fine. A little sore from how long I was in there, but besides that I'm doing—\"\n\n\"What do you mean, how long you've been in there for?\" Cora asked.\n\n\"You know, for the hours I was in there,\" I said, rubbing my neck.\n\n\"You've only been in there for five minutes,\" Riley said.\n\n\"It feels like you've been in there for hours, Nicholas, but it's only been seven minutes and twelve seconds, to be exact,\" Mark said. \"You've just used a different talent called Forecasting, and this room helped you use and focus it. But before I explain more about that, we should go up and relax and get the latest report on what havoc the Seekers have caused and are causing outside of Valcary Hill.\"\n\n\"Wait, you said Bernard warned you?\" I asked.\n\n\"All in good time. Nicholas, I promise I'll tell you what I can, but not yet.\"\n\nI knew Noel and I weren't safe; we had to move. The screaming had died down a little bit, so I sat up just enough to look around. I saw a cloaked figure very close to us. The figure spotted me. Now what do I do? I thought, panicked.\n\nI quickly got to my feet and moved steadily away from Noel, hoping the person wouldn't spot her. Wherever I went, the cloaked figure followed slowly and methodically. What was I going to do? I couldn't take on a Seeker or even a wanna-be Seeker. I ran to the tree line at the edge of the clearing leading back to the drawbridge. I tried to calm my breathing, sliding down behind a tree that luckily had large roots which allowed me some cover. I still felt as if I was going to hyperventilate and pass out. I peeked out and saw the person was no more than ten feet away from me. I leaned back under a thick root, and suddenly the person grabbed my hair and pulled me out of my cover, sending pain shooting through my scalp like it was on fire. I pulled away, breaking myself free, and got to my feet, stumbling.\n\n\"Hm, hm, hm,\" the cloaked figured laughed, sounding pleased.\n\nI grabbed for whatever was closest to me on the ground. My fingers wrapped around a rock, and I swung it, making contact with the person's head.\n\n\"Owwwww,\" a man yelled with a deep booming voice, pulling off his shroud. I had hit him right below his eye. It was turning a nasty purple color with a couple of trickles of blood coming down. He kicked me, catching me on my side, knocking me to the ground. It felt as if a rib or two had cracked. I grabbed my side, hoping it would help me breathe.\n\nI was now in the clearing closer to the bridge. My head was spinning from the pain, and I could see my assailant was bearing down on to me.\n\n\"Please don't,\" I pleaded as I crawled away. Nicholas, where are you?\n\n\"I can't believe it. I have Nicholas Keller's beloved right here,\" the man hissed, sounding more like a weasel than an actual man. \"You caught Fleming with his guard down, hitting him with that rock. That's not an easy thing to do to Fleming McGregor. Xavier will for sure ask Fleming to be part of The 3 now, especially after his pet, Grey, failed so miserably.\"\n\nThe fact that he was talking about himself in the third person was creepy and scaring me more than I already was. I turned around and began to crawl away as fast as I could. I needed to make my way back to Valcary Hill. I needed Nicholas.\n\nHe stepped on my leg, stopping me in my tracks. I let out a cry. My muscle felt like it was being separated from the bone.\n\nHe kicked me again, flipping me over. His face resembled a pit bull, wrinkled with a large jaw. His smile revealed he had several missing teeth, but a single gold one stood out.\n\nHe pulled out a Belos from under his shroud and grinned. \"This is going to hurt a lot,\" he laughed.\n\nHis hand went into the sky and I closed my eyes. My parents and Nicholas flashed into my head once again. \"I love you all,\" I whispered.\n\nI heard a sound like someone cracking their back, and then there was a thud. Someone picked me up gently. The smell of this person was familiar, like old pipe smoke, but I wasn't sure who it was. I couldn't lift my head to see who my savior was, but I could see behind us. Fleming McGregor's lifeless body was lying right where he had fallen.\n\nI was carried back into the forest and laid down next to Noel. My rescuer took my shroud from under Noel's head and covered us both.\n\nMy injuries prevented me from looking around, which was probably a good thing because it kept me from getting caught again. I blacked out minutes later, my body forcing me to shut down for repairs.\n\nEverything I had absorbed while I was Forecasting was at the front of my mind, but I couldn't separate all of it. So I concentrated just enough to push it all to the back of my mind, allowing me to stay here in the present. I tried several times to see Elle and Noel, but it was no use.\n\nWe arrived back at the room where we had been talking to Mark, and it had been transformed. It was lit up now by crystal clear screens of varying sizes and locations. Different Sils were monitoring and pressing on them as if they were playing some type of video game. Some of them were talking into small boxes similar to the one I had seen Ester use when she was speaking with Sidney and Michelle. One of the female Sils approached Mark to give a report.\n\n\"Keeper Siegel, we have confirmed the number of deaths at 77: 5 Sils, 15 suspected Seekers and 57 Thusians. No one who died has any true significance to us. Just—\"\n\n\"Are you kidding?\" Cora broke in. \"No significance? Try telling that to their families.\" She was livid, angrier than I had seen her in a long time. Why wouldn't she be? The Sil had just finished saying that 77 people had died and that they didn't really matter. This was all because of Xavier and his Seekers.\n\n\"I think you all should go back to your family vault and take some time,\" Mark said, motioning for Aldara, who came right over to us.\n\n\"Please show them down to their family vault and make sure they have anything they need. We'll catch up after things have died down,\" he said. Then he shook his head, realizing what he'd just said.\n\n\"Mark David!\" someone screamed from down the stairs. A few seconds later, Mark's dad and mom appeared. Mayor Siegel's shroud had been ripped in several places, and he had a noticeable cut on his left cheek, which seemed to be weeping. His mom appeared to be untouched, but her eyes were bloodshot and mascara was running down her face.\n\n\"What have you done?\" Mayor Siegel barked. \"You need to call back your guard dogs and get everyone back in here to safety. The Sils keep pushing more and more innocent Thusians outside, and it's a bloodbath. The Lands family and the Clarks are out there right now. I was with them, and the only way I got back inside was to tell the Sils your brother Ryan is in the Med Vault. How can you do this?\" He dropped to his knees.\n\n\"Please, son, drop the defenses.\" His mom came up to him, placing her hand on his face. \"You need to help all of us,\" she pleaded motherly.\n\nMark's face twisted, showing that he realized what he had done.\n\n\"I never meant to hurt anyone. I wasn't thinking clearly. Bernard said . . .\" He stopped and walked over to one of the large glass screens, gazing into it, looking upset.\n\nBoth Cora and Genevieve were watching the screen closest to them. They too looked shocked and upset by what they saw. I saw Grey's pale white skin flash by on one of the nearest screens. Somewhere above us he had cornered a small group of Thusians in the ruins, maybe the Clarks or the Lands. He was on the drawbridge over the moat, daring them to try to get past him. Behind Grey were several mounds littering the ground. They were people, his latest victims that had tried to escape to freedom but didn't make it.\n\nManeuvering through Valcary Hill was easy on my way to confront Grey. My body was on cruise control, happy to be able to let loose going after him. I entered into the round ornate room where hundreds of people were standing, huddled together, surrounded by Sils, probably waiting to be pushed out to their deaths. I exited by the large boulder we had used to get into Valcary Hill on our first day here and stood outside. A small group of people saw their chance and fled back inside behind me.\n\nThe sun was bright, several beams piercing through some clouds; I squinted and, as if my eyes knew what I needed, the light became muted everywhere. The colors were vivid, taking on a luminous quality, as if it was a color-enhanced picture. I was discovering new talents, but this was not the time to marvel.\n\n\"So the One's heeere,\" Grey yelled to me from the bridge, slurring the last word, which brought a smile to my face.\n\n\"Yes, I will always be in your way, no matter where you are.\"\n\n\"You didn't get here quite in time,\" he said smugly, looking back at the death he'd left.\n\n\"I want to say sorry about your jaw. I'm sure it didn't feel good when my knee met it. I'm here to finish the job.\"\n\nHe growled at me, but he didn't advance, sizing me up, waiting to see what my next move would be. My Thusian talents were completely at my disposal and I was in control of my body and the situation. I closed my eyes for a split second and it felt as if the world stopped. When I opened my eyes, the familiar white fire had engulfed everything around me. All of my senses were in harmony with my mind, recording everything from the wind direction, the smell of burning wood and even a feeling that Cora, Genevieve and Riley were about to join me. Also, I was able to see how truly hurt Grey was, from the broken jaw I had given him earlier to the large gash on his right thigh. Several small drops of sweat were on his brow. He was in agony. It felt amazing to be able to gather all of this information, and so quickly.\n\nIf you can do all of this, then where's Elle? Are you sure she's safe? a small voice asked from somewhere inside me. And that's when the first wave of nausea hit me, as if I was hit by some invisible force right in the gut. I reached for my Tic Tacs, but I didn't have any. My surroundings returned to normal; the sun once again blinded me. I rocked backward, taking a few steps before regaining some composure. Grey took a step forward, sensing something was wrong, but Cora was behind me, and Genevieve and Riley took their places in front of me. They started to talk to Grey, but I didn't understand what they were saying. The voice asking about Elle was now growing louder and louder. I began to have a panic attack. I bent down to one knee and dozens of Sils came pouring out onto the bridge.\n\nThrough the group of them, I saw Grey retreating backwards, not willing to try anything with the added support. I stood up, feeling better now with them beside me.\n\n***\n\nOnce we were back in the large round room, hundreds of Sils were taking care of those who remained, escorting many of them back into Valcary Hill past the acacia tree. Mark saw me and rushed over.\n\n\"I'm so happy you're okay, Nicholas,\" he said, sounding apologetic.\n\n\"Mark, why did you—\" I began to ask, but was interrupted when he held up a hand to make me listen to what he was about to say.\n\n\"Why did I have the Sils push everyone out? I wasn't thinking clearly. I only had what Bernard had told me to do in those damn journals. I was trying to show the Council what power I had. I now know it wasn't the best idea.\"\n\n\"No kidding, you idiot,\" Genevieve said. \"You got a lot of people hurt and killed.\"\n\nI took a deep breath. \"This isn't on Mark. It's my fault. My actions have led us to this point. The only other person to blame now is Xavier.\"\n\nIn a thick rich Irish accent Riley said, \"It's not your fault. This is the life of a Thusian. Do we honestly think this situation is any worse than when my parents were alive or back a thousand years ago? This war was waged a long time ago and now we finally have a chance to end it.\"\n\nI was being jerked back and forth, kind of like being on a roller coaster, but I was pinned down, and it was completely dark, each turn and bump catching me off guard. A thick earthy substance was covering me, as I jostled along. I tried to move it off me but I didn't have the strength. The pressure on my body was too much to bear. It was crushing me slowly, like being buried alive. As I tried to see what was weighing me down, I realized I was next to someone else. I listened for a moment and the person next to me was groaning every so often when we hit bigger bumps. I knew those sounds of agony; it was Noel. We both were being moved somewhere by someone.\n\nI tried several times to move some part of my body but still wasn't able to. I tried to scream out, \"Help me,\" but my voice was unable to make a sound, which frightened me. The weight on my chest kept me from making any sound. I began to hyperventilate until silver and gold stars appeared in front of me, then my skin was covered in sweat, and then nothing.\n\n***\n\n\"Where do you think you're going?\" A hoarse male voice exclaimed, pulling me out of my darkness. I took a shallow breath.\n\n\"I'm doing my chores. What's it to you?\" a girl's voice answered sarcastically, just like Genevieve would have.\n\n\"Grey wants to make sure no Thusians in the vault get any help from you little Sils here at home. He doesn't care what you think you are now and who you report to. You are still nothing, just property, and you will serve us Seekers. Don't forget that, or we will liquefy the rest of you.\"\n\n\"Really, you idiots couldn't take care of yourselves without us. You go get Grey right now then, if that's how you are going to be,\" she said defiantly, waiting for a response.\n\nHe hesitated, then said, \"You want me to go get him?\" He stumbled over the question, sounding baffled.\n\n\"Yes, I do. And then you can explain how you stopped me from completing my chores in the cellar.\"\n\n\"You are her? The one who works down there? Ghost Girl?\" He said, sounding alarmed.\n\n\"Yes, I am. Now go get him,\" she demanded.\n\n\"No, I'm sorry, I didn't know. Please go ahead, and do what you . . .\" His voice trailed off because he was getting away from her.\n\n\"That's what I thought, you idiot,\" she shouted and then we began to move again.\n\nI wasn't sure if I should be scared or happy that we were being helped by this Sil. Especially one named Ghost Girl?\n\nWe began to move more quickly. Noel groaned loudly, reminding me that I could barely breathe. And I doubted Noel was doing well under these circumstances.\n\nMy heart began to pound, my skin felt as if pins were poking me everywhere, kind of like when my foot would fall asleep after a long car ride, but this was excruciating. The next thing was the onset of severe nausea. I began to gag but I couldn't get a breath to completely purge. Instead, the acid was trapped in my throat, burning. A thought of Nicholas made me find the strength to endure it all, at least for the moment.\n\n\"I suggest you stop squirming like a little worm, unless you want us to get caught. I have to get you both to the cellar, and then we can go from there.\"\n\nWe began to bounce up and down faster. But then we came to a halt and Ghost Girl said, \"I'm sorry for this, but I will come and check on you as soon as I can. If anyone comes down the stairs, hide. I have laid a sack with some supplies in the corner; hopefully it's all still dry. And no matter what, be brave. Nothing will hurt you down there, I promise.\"\n\nWe were flung forward and slid down a chute of metal. I reached back, hoping to slow myself down, and caught my ring fingernail on something. It bent backwards, feeling as if it was being pulled off. I grabbed hold of my hand as we continued down into a sludge. Water definitely was the main part of the gooey substance. The smell was like rotten eggs and a skunk. I got to my knees and pulled Noel up out of it so she wouldn't drown. I looked up the chute right as the door was being shut and locked with a series of chains. It was dark down here; only a couple of rays of lights came from the door. This wasn't a cellar. It was more like a dungeon where people are tortured. And what did she mean by nothing could hurt us down here? Why would she say that?\n\nI stood up, still holding my hand to keep my throbbing finger from hurting any worse. I tried to see around us. My ribs and leg were still hurting, but I was not as bad off as Noel. When my eyes started to get used to the darkness, I noticed several pairs of beady eyes looking back at me. I was surrounded by rats.\n\nIt took all of my will power to keep from screaming. Suddenly I couldn't feel any pain. I began to shake violently, and my arms started to itch. I looked down, and I was covered in white bumps, hives. I was frozen. I couldn't move. Where was Nicholas when I needed him? Why was I more scared of frogs and rats than getting caught by Xavier?\n\n\"Noel,\" I whispered urgently, hoping she would respond to give me some needed courage, but nothing.\n\nI took my eyes off the growing number of vermin and looked around the room, hoping to find something to distract myself.\n\nThe cellar was massive, at least two stories tall. Above us were long wooden beams spanning the whole ceiling, holding up the floor above us. Almost the entire room's floor glimmered a little, showing it was covered by the goo. Maybe one of the far corners was dry, and I hoped that was where the supplies were. But first I had to face my fear.\n\nI looked back at the rats. None of the little statues had moved yet. Out of the corner of my eye, I checked to see how Noel was doing. The cut above her right eye was bleeding again, and her nose was caked in dried blood. She jerked, like when you fall asleep and wake up suddenly. She slid off to the side, back into the goo. I needed to move her to a safer spot.\n\n\"Elle,\" I said out loud to myself, \"you need to help your friend.\"\n\nUnfortunately my body didn't react to my words. But a thought did the trick: This was my idea to leave Nicholas, and for us to go to Noel's safe house. If I want to see my family, Nicholas or anyone else, I have to be brave. Would Genevieve be scared?\n\nI took a deep breath and pictured the mice from Cinderella. That story was in one of the books my mom used to read to me when I was little. I pictured the chubby little mouse and the thin one helping Cinderella make her dress for the ball. My foot moved a little and then so did my other one. The sludge that clung to my shoes dripped off the side as I moved slowly with high steps. I grabbed Noel underneath her arms. Before I moved her, I wanted to see where there weren't as many rats. I slowly looked around and thankfully they were gone—well, maybe not entirely gone, just out of sight.\n\nI tried to pull Noel up out of the goo, but she was dead weight, unable to do anything to help me. So I had to drag her toward the other side of the room, hoping to find a dry spot or ledge that we could use to get up and out of the wetness. Surprisingly, the liquid made it easier to drag her to the other side, kind of like sliding on wet ice.\n\nAbout halfway across the room, the floor began to slope up gradually, which caused the goo to become shallower. A little farther on, the ground was just a wet surface. Noel groaned as I pulled her along. Was I hurting her more? Maybe, but I had to get her out of this, and then I could deal with her wounds and mine. In the corner to the right I could see a rotting wooden staircase. If there was any space behind it, it would make an excellent hiding spot for me to think and take care of us, because who knew if Ghost Girl would actually come back. Did I want her to? The way that Seeker sounded when he found out who she was made it seem like we should avoid her. Regardless, I needed to focus on what I was doing now.\n\nIt was completely dry behind the stairs, luckily, the highest point down here. Everything sloped up to this point. And in front of us was a burlap bag.\n\n\"Okay, let's hope there is something in here we can use,\" I said to Noel, as if she were conscious.\n\nI pulled out some clothes: simple gray dresses and blouses. The clothing was identical to what Aldara and the other Sil women always wore. I reached into the bag again and pulled out a brush, some fabric strips and a bottle of clear liquid with no label, which looked like water. I set these items on the ground next to Noel, who still hadn't moved. There was also a large loaf of bread and a big chunk of cheese wrapped in wax paper. The last thing I found in the bag was a jug with a label showing two snakes wrapped around a staff. It looked like the medical symbol, but this was slightly different. It had a rough circle behind it that I had seen a couple of times when Mark was reading Bernard Weathers' journals.\n\nI wish she had given us some sort of light. Would it have been too much to ask for? I wanted a candle or flashlight. It would've allowed me to see around the entire room better, and it would've helped keep those rats away.\n\nA loud thud came from above, sending me to the ground next to Noel. A light cascaded down into the room from the top of the stairs. Then someone began to walk slowly down the long flight of stairs. Each step creaked and groaned as if the staircase was going to fall down at any moment.\n\nI pulled Noel against the wall closer to me. I held my breath, hoping whoever it was wouldn't hear us. My heart was in my throat; I could feel it beating so hard. I closed my eyes, hoping we hadn't come this far only to be discovered.\n\nA person as wide as half the staircase was descending. The light from above cascaded down the stairs as the large round body moved slowly to the bottom. At the last step, the person bent over. I leaned forward to get a better look at what was happening. The person had a bottle and was sticking it down into the sludge, apparently collecting it.\n\nWhy would anyone want this nasty sludge? I was surrounded by it and couldn't wait to escape. I closed my eyes again, afraid that if I looked too long, this person would feel my stare and it would be over for us. Then a loud groaning sound like a wounded animal came from the far corner of the room. I opened my eyes and saw large flashes of light fill the room and then vanish. The person ran back up the stairs panting the whole time, moving faster than I thought possible. The door slammed shut and the room went dark. We were alone again in the pitch black with our only companions, the rats and whatever was in the far corner.\n\n\"I'm not going back down there ever again; no one can make me. I don't care what we need. We should send down the Ghost Girl,\" a voice whined from above.\n\n\"You will do what Xavier asks, Chester, and—\" someone with a much deeper voice commanded.\n\n\"Asks? Ha! It's more like a threat, and you know it, Morris,\" he interrupted. \"Aren't you like a brother to Grey? Can't you do anything to get someone else to do these chores? We are doing nothing but sitting around. We should be out there setting up Thusians to die or at least trying to get into Valcary Hill to stop The 4,\" Chester wheezed, getting worked up and gasping for air.\n\n\"Let me remind you of who you are. You aren't part of the 100 Seekers, you are just a Thusian who wants to be, a pawn. If you play your cards right, you may get invited to be part of the 100. And I would never go to Grey to ask him anything, ever. I'm next in line to be part of The 3 and I won't do anything to mess that up. So you'd better bite your tongue,\" Morris said with his voice going even deeper and sounding resolute.\n\nA door opened and closed.\n\nA familiar voice said, \"I hope you didn't go down into the cellar. I would really hate to lose one of you to the flash. Once you see the light she puts out, your days are numbered,\" she warned.\n\nI couldn't tell if Ghost Girl was serious or joking.\n\nNeither of them said anything.\n\n\"Ahhhhhh.\" Noel let out the loudest groan, scaring me. I grabbed her, putting my hand over her mouth. Her eyes were fixed in the direction of where the light had come from and she had a horrified look on her face. She looked petrified, and for Noel to look this way was in itself frightening. She was one of the bravest women I knew, not scared of anything.\n\nThen she fell to the side unconscious again.\n\n\"Oh boy,\" Ghost Girl said, \"You must have made her extra mad when you took some of her elixir without permission. She doesn't like that, you know. I feel sorry for you. Your days are numbered. You might as well fill out your will and go down and face The 4 alone.\"\n\n\"Enough, child,\" Morris warned. \"That's superstition, and you know why we have to go down there.\"\n\n\"Yes, to steal from the Sils. The elixir is only to be used in emergencies. The lot of you go down there all the time to fill up your bottles. You don't need it that often, do you? If anyone abuses it or stores it for later use, the people who use it will die and so will the ones retrieving it.\"\n\n\"Go do your chores, Sil, and leave us be,\" Morris said.\n\nA door shut and after a minute or two Chester's high-pitched voice whined again, \"There's no way I'm going down there again. You can do it yourself; you heard her.\"\n\n\"You better do as you're told. Don't cross them.\"\n\n\"I've figured out another way to gain favor with Xavier,\" Chester said, walking toward the far corner. I could hear the floor boards creak with each step, as he and Morris walked away, talking in hushed voices as they too left out the door.\n\nFor the moment there was no risk of us being discovered. We were alone. Well, maybe not completely alone. We still had the rats around us and whatever had caused that flash. I didn't believe in ghosts, so I knew whatever was causing that blinding light could be explained. At the moment, I didn't really care what it was as long as it kept the Seekers upstairs.\n\nNoel hadn't moved since her freak out. I took out the bottle I thought was some type of medicine. I uncorked it and put some of it on a strip of cloth that was in the sack of supplies Ghost Girl had left us. I wasn't sure if it was for internal or external use, so I used caution and used it externally.\n\nThe liquid was thick, like corn syrup, but didn't have any smell to it. I was able to spread it over each of Noel's cuts, which covered most of her body. Some of them probably needed a couple of stiches, but for now I would just have to make sure they didn't get infected and keep them covered.\n\nAfter I was done with her, I began to clean my own cuts. I wrapped my fingernail that had almost been ripped off in a piece of gauze soaked in the liquid. It made it feel numb and tingly, which was an improvement over the throbbing pain. I then moved onto the rest of my cuts.\n\nI started to feel warm all over. Then a sound like someone whispering in my ear came from the far corner of the room. I looked up and saw a yellowish bright light revealing a silhouette. Were we alone?\n\nLying in bed was neither pleasurable nor restful. The covers felt like sandpaper and the pillow might as well have been a brick. The only thing I could do was try to think about everything I had learned from Forecasting. The darkness that often surrounded me in my nightmares was present, making me relive a multitude of horrors: everything from Elle's limp body at the quarry to the recent scalding hot water of the spring. All of this was brought on by the panic attack I had begun to have facing Grey, making me unsure of myself again. And when I would finally fall asleep, I would awake alone with no help. I refused to go back to see Mark. I just sat in my room.\n\nTime was in slow motion; days and nights blurred together. My hopelessness became a constant reminder that Elle was gone and I didn't know where she was.\n\nAldara kept me supplied with food and Tic Tacs. I guess she hoped I would eventually snap out of it. Genevieve didn't visit; she had disappeared entirely. Cora and Riley only came in when they wanted to get information from me, mostly about the Forecasting. Now I knew how Mark must have felt, only useful when people wanted something from me.\n\n\"Do you want to see what else you can do?\" a small voice asked. It was Logen; he was standing just inside my door, as if he was unsure if he was allowed in here with me. I sat up and smiled at him.\n\n\"What are you talking about, buddy?\" I asked, and when the word \"buddy\" passed my lips, I realized it was what my dad used to call me sometimes.\n\nLogen inched closer.\n\n\"Logen, you can come in,\" I said, throwing my legs to the side of the bed, waving him over.\n\nHe skipped over to me, leaning in next to me, at ease now.\n\n\"People are saying you should be doing more than just sleeping the days away. So... are you going to see what talents you have?\" he asked.\n\n\"Logen, I'm not sure what they are talking about.\" Even though I knew, I didn't feel like discussing it with a little kid. \"And to be honest, I don't think I want to do much right now. Sometimes grownups need some time to just think, and that's what I'm doing.\"\n\nHe didn't say anything. He put his little finger up to his mouth and tapped it like he was in deep thought, which was pretty cute. I'm sure he was imitating someone he had seen.\n\n\"If I was a hero like you, I think I would do hero stuff. Don't you think? You know, so you can save us all?\" Then, he bounced out of the room.\n\nI got up and followed him out in the main area of the vault and Cora, Riley and Genevieve were in there eating and talking about something.\n\n\"It's so good of you to join the living,\" Genevieve said, taking a bite of her sandwich.\n\n\"Aldara, can I see you?\" I said, sitting down and grabbing a sandwich from a platter. Before I had a chance to begin eating, she came into the room.\n\n\"What can I do for you, Nicholas?\" she asked, sounding formal.\n\n\"I need to talk with the Sils who are responsible for the Forecasting Room.\"\n\n\"Why do you want to talk to them?\" Cora asked.\n\n\"It's time for me to start acting like part of The 4. We need to stop just waiting for things to happen. We need to be proactive in getting prepared to face Xavier, Grey and Ashlyn. We need to train.\"\n\nI glanced at Genevieve to see if she flinched when I said her sister's name, but she didn't. She was stone faced, staring at me, slowly chewing.\n\n\"Wouldn't you rather talk to Mark first?\" Aldara questioned.\n\n\"No,\" I said. She didn't move at first. She was processing something, but she didn't say what; she simply turned and left the room.\n\n\"Nicholas, I'm glad you think we should start being proactive. I think there's a treasure trove of information here for us to learn. I mean, that Forecasting Room has to only be the tip of the iceberg,\" Riley said.\n\nHe was always in favor of training; it was his go-to. If everything else seemed to go wrong or if we were at a standstill, he would suggest we train more.\n\n\"Just so I'm clear,\" I said to them, \"we're going to find Elle first. We'll get her back and then, and only then, will we go after Xavier. People look to us as heroes, which is good, but we need to be a complete team before we can be successful. We're only at our best when we're surrounded by our loved ones. Think about all those times we've had to deal with danger—who has been there? It hasn't always been just the four of us.\"\n\nCora stood up and came over next to me.\n\n\"I'm so proud of the man you've become,\" she said, and then turned to face the others. \"He's right. We need to find Elle and Noel. We also need Walter, Dane, Piet, and we can't forget about Chase.\"\n\n\"Sure, I guess we should include Chase too,\" Riley sighed with a smile. \"We're stronger all together.\"\n\nI closed my eyes and images went flying by me, as if I was watching a movie, but every frame was a different picture. Once I opened my eyes, I knew without a doubt we needed to do this. We needed to complete our team, and we would start by finding Elle. She needed me.\n\n\"Noel, I hope you can hear me. I need you. I don't think I can do this anymore. I'm broken, my heart aches, and my head is spinning,\" I said, putting some more water into her mouth, hoping she was swallowing it. She didn't move. Her wounds had healed shockingly fast over the past several days, as had mine. Even my fingernail had reattached. We were almost out of both food and water though, and Noel desperately needed to eat. She had to wake up, because it was beginning to seem like we had been left down here, forgotten by Ghost Girl. And without Noel, I wouldn't dare try to escape this place. How much longer could she really last with only getting caps full of water? Was I really helping, or was she slipping away, further into this coma-like state?\n\n\"I'm not a Thusian and I'm not brave like you,\" I continued whispering to her. \"So what now? I told you I wanted to go to your safe house, but if you aren't here with me, what am I to do?\" I pulled a stray hair out of her face, hoping she would just open her eyes. \"You need to wake—\"\n\nSeveral loud footsteps stopped me from saying anything else. It was the first movement I'd heard above us in days.\n\n\"Did you hear?\" a monotone male voice asked.\n\n\"About what? You need to be more specific, you idiot,\" a deep female voice responded.\n\n\"Mark Siegel, you know, Jacob Siegel's son, has invoked full Sil security. Xavier has instructed that no Seeker should go near Valcary Hill.\"\n\n\"Yeah, so? That doesn't mean anything. Those little Sils wouldn't stand a chance against The 3 if they weren't barricaded in a fortress.\"\n\n\"Maybe,\" he said. \"But the point is: only a Keeper can activate the Sils' defenses, which means everything Mark said about the Divine Council being dissolved is true. The 4 has been formed! The Great War has begun!\"\n\n\"That's amazing!\" she squealed, sounding like a child on Christmas morning.\n\n\"Amazing, are you kidding? Bran Shuster's family members were all historians, used by the Seekers for a very long time. He said the war in the 1700s killed hundreds of thousands of people, and this time, who knows how many will die? Maybe millions once it gets ramped up. He thinks it's going to be worse than before. There are now four groups of Thusians trying to gain power: Ester and the Council, Keeper Siegel and the Sils, The 4, and Xavier. We are going to see so much death. A lot of us have been talking, and we aren't sure what to do or where to send our families.\"\n\n\"You coward,\" she said. \"This is what needs to happen: we have to purge the Thusians, and if some Seekers get offed in the process, who cares? It just means they are weak and need to be thrown out with the rest of the bad blood. And the insignificant little Nons don't matter, like the Sils. They die so easily anyway, like little lambs,\" she said.\n\nI wanted to yell at her. I closed my eyes and a smile came to my face, because some of the Seekers were scared, and maybe there were even more who were frightened by what this meant. And if that was the case, then Nicholas, Cora, Genevieve and Riley could easily gain the upper hand. If Ester and the Council, Mark and the Sils, and the rest of the Thusians were smart, they would realize this and support and help The 4.\n\nMy chest was feeling heavy; it was becoming hard to breathe. A black cloud was all around me. I was trapped in it, unable to move. I opened my eyes as wide as I could. Where was I? What was happening? I tried to move my head to look around, but I couldn't. I tried to move my legs and arms, but with no luck.\n\n\"Noel,\" I said, trying to stay calm and not panic. \"Can you hear me? Can you hear me?\" What was happening to me?\n\nThe thought of her lying face down in the goo came to me. What if I couldn't move? How would I be able to help her? The more I tried to move, the more I felt like I was being squeezed. The feeling of being trapped was taking over, as I became more claustrophobic.\n\nMy body began to try to break free using all of my might, as if I was convulsing. I had no control over it. But with one big jerk of my arm I felt something give way; just enough to give me hope I could escape. My mind continued to say, I have to get out of here, I have to get out of here. What if Noel needs me?\n\nI awoke immediately to the sound of people upstairs. To my horror and shock I was in front of the stairs, completely submerged in the muck. The water must have come up and pulled me out of hiding while I was asleep.\n\n\"You can't make me go back down there,\" a familiar voice whined. It was Chester, and he wasn't happy.\n\nBut this time a familiar voice said, \"You will do it now, or I will show you what happens to those who don't obey Xavier. Do I make myself clear?\" It was Ashlyn; her voice was cold. And then I heard a door shut above.\n\nThe door opened, and the bright white light cascaded down upon me. I heard Chester take the first step, and with that sound and the thought of him finding me stuck there, I pushed myself deeper into the thick muck to hide.\n\nI was completely submerged, and my head was only halfway in with my mouth just barely out of the sludge, allowing me to take some shallow breaths. But as Chester came closer, I held my breath.\n\n\"Hey, Steel, why don't you come down too? He commanded us both, not just me. You heard him, and what Ashlyn said to us before we left,\" he screamed up from one of the top stairs.\n\n\"He said for you to go down there, and Ashlyn was looking at you,\" a woman's voice answered.\n\nHe dropped the bottle, and it came bouncing down the stairs. If he came down to get it, he would surely see me. My heart sank. The only comfort I had was that Noel was actually in a shadow, not easy to spot, so at least she had a chance behind the stairs. I moved, trying to slide down deeper into the muck, which had become more like a swamp, allowing me to move a little bit farther away and into it.\n\nI heard Chester quicken his pace down the stairs. It seemed like he was down there forever, but eventually I heard him go back up, and then the door slammed shut. He hadn't seen me. For now we were safe.\n\nI pulled my arm out and began the process of freeing myself, once I heard them leave.\n\n\"Where are we?\" Noel's strained, broken voice pulled me away from looking at the stairs, still cleaning the gook off of myself.\n\n\"Oh, thank God you're okay.\" I went to her, relieved to see she was awake.\n\n\"Elle, where are we?\" she asked again.\n\n\"I'm not sure. I think it's the cellar in the...\n\n\"We're in the cellar?\" she quizzed like she hadn't heard me clearly.\n\n\"Yeah, and a Sil has helped us.\"\n\n\"All of my injuries are better, right?\"\n\n\"Actually, you're right, how did you know?\"\n\n\"The Sil who has helped us is The Guardian of the Cellar. She's a good friend of us Thusian Guards,\" she said slowly, examining herself and stretching. \"Aubriana is the one who comes down here and retrieves the spring water that comes up out of the ground. It has incredible healing properties. Some say it's the fountain of youth because it can be consumed in addition to being used externally. She put us down here to make sure we were healed. After the beating I took, I'm grateful she dumped me down here with you to watch after me. That's the only way I would have survived. So how long have we been down here?\"\n\n\"I'm not sure. Maybe a couple of days or even a week. With very little light, I lost track of time.\"\n\n\"Let's signal her, so she'll know we're okay,\" Noel said, standing up and grimacing.\n\n\"How do we do that?\"\n\n\"We need to go to the stairs and pull the lever that's attached to the bottom of the handrail. I remember Walter talking about how he brought Chip here. Remember him? He was the one who got sliced up by Grey while protecting Nicholas and Cora. Walter laid him down here and when Chip felt better he pulled the lever to let her know to come and get him.\"\n\n\"How do you know all of this?\" I asked. Sure, she was part of Walter's security and he had talked about Chip, but it seemed like she knew the process intimately.\n\n\"Because, I came here right after . . . after I got injured at Vanderbilt. Chase had done everything he could for me. He had put me back together, but I wouldn't have been the same person. So Walter flew me out here for a couple of days. The Cellar made my wounds heal very fast, making it more likely that I would be able to continue protecting you. And it worked. It makes sense why the Seekers want this place. In a battle, having this spring would be a great asset.\"\n\nI helped her up and she slowly walked over to the bottom of the staircase and pulled a small lever. Then a loud hiss and a flash happened in front of us.\n\n\"What's that?\" I asked pointing in the direction it came from, noticing that it lacked a person silhouette this time. \"The Seekers are scared of it. Aubriana told them it was a ghost.\"\n\n\"Of course she did. She nick-named herself Ghost Girl to scare Thusians. The lever releases swamp gas and once it hits the air, it ignites. She has a lever up in her room too, which can do the same thing. She'll come down here soon.\"\n\n\"Really, swamp gas?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\nRight then the door opened. \"Are you two ready to come up? It's three in the morning and those two Seekers went back to their quarters to sleep. There's no one awake here at home. You can follow me up and bring the supplies I left for you. I don't want any evidence left behind.\"\n\n\"Wake up, wake up,\" a small voice pleaded with me. I couldn't tell if I was in a dream or not.\n\nI wiped my eyes and was now lying in a bed. I looked over to my side and Noel was there right next to me.\n\n\"I'm so happy you're awake.\" Aubriana stood in front of me. She had long red hair and freckles. She looked younger than her voice sounded.\n\n\"How did we get here?\" I asked. I could only remember coming up the stairs, but after that nothing.\n\n\"When you and Noel got to the top of the stairs, you passed out. It's common, if you've been down in the cellar for more than two days. The increase of oxygen and lack of light usually makes your body need time to adjust. You two had been down there for five days. So I carried you both up here.\n\n\"And how long have we been up here?\"\n\n\"Three days.\"\n\nI rubbed my head, not sure how I could have been out for so long.\n\n\"Who knows we're here?\" Noel asked, sitting up.\n\n\"No one except for me and Mrs. Penny Childs, our senior Sil.\n\n\"Do you know who I am?\" I whispered to her.\n\n\"Of course I do. You two are Thusians who need our help,\" she said with a wink.\n\n\"Are you sure you haven't even told the Keeper or his guest?\" Noel questioned further.\n\n\"The Sils here are serving the Seekers and Thusians who occupy this area. Keeper Siegel requested for it to be this way. Mrs. Penny and I both agreed you two would be safer if no one knew, not even the Keeper. So what are your plans now?\"\n\n\"We have to get as far away from this place as we can. For starters we need to get back to the United States,\" I said.\n\n\"I may know a way to make that happen. A certain friend knew you were going to need to get back to the United States, but only if you're interested.\"\n\n\"Friend? What friend?\" I said, trying to rack my brain. Who knew we needed to get out of here? This had to be a trap.\n\n\"Not really sure. A boy came here with a message saying if any one needed a ride, a boat would be waiting for them on the coast, but they would have to clean the toilets and cook for him.\"\n\nNoel and I looked at each other. John Maker was waiting for us. I wasn't sure how he knew we needed his help, but I was glad he did. I pulled my hair back to the side and began twirling it in my fingers. We needed to get to his boat.\n\n\"Do you have any hydrogen peroxide?\" I asked. \"And I will also need scissors.\"\n\nAubriana stared at me, and a moment later her head began to nod, understanding what I wanted to do. She hurried out.\n\n\"So what now?\" Noel asked, as if she had no idea what I was doing.\n\n\"Here you go, Elle,\" Aubriana said, walking through the doorway with the items I wanted in hand.\n\n\"So, do either of you know how to cut hair?\" I asked.\n\nLooking into the mirror made me feel like hyperventilating. My hair was now blonde, bleached blonde. I had left the peroxide in my hair for over two hours, and then both Aubriana and Noel had helped me cut it short into a pixie haircut. I resembled a full grown Tinker Bell. If I hadn't known who I was looking at in the mirror, I wouldn't have recognized myself.\n\nNoel had also changed her appearance. She had used some type of polish or stain to turn her brown hair to jet black. She had also applied heavy black make-up. She was unrecognizable also.\n\n\"Wow, I have to say you both completely transformed. I wouldn't recognize you in a million years,\" Aubriana said.\n\nNoel gave a small smile, which she didn't do often, so I knew we had done a good job.\n\n\"I've already arranged for you to get to the boat. I'm going to get you into the back of one of our supply trucks on its daily route to the port. The Seekers won't think anything of it. It's a two-day drive, and they stop over in a small town. Hemsworth, the driver of the truck you will be in, will get out of the truck and go into the pub once he arrives in town. That's when you should look for a place to stay. There are several barns in and around the area. Just make sure you are back in the truck by 7:30 the next morning. He's a stickler for time. He will leave exactly at 7:38. No sooner, no later. He's been driving this route for over 25 years and has the same routine.\"\n\n\"Go wait outside,\" Noel said, sounding kind of mean.\n\nAubriana gave us an uncertain look.\n\n\"What Noel is trying to say is we need a couple of minutes to talk things over first.\"\n\nAubriana stood up and walked out of the room.\n\n\"That was rude,\" I said.\n\n\"Your pleasantries take too much time and plus, she's a Sil. She doesn't...\"\n\n\"Really? She's a person, just like all Sils. You sound no better than Ester Theasing, or even Xavier. Quit being so blind to your ignorance.\"\n\nShe rolled her eyes, but nodded her head, knowing I was right, or at least placating me.\n\n\"We just need to get back to the United States. Her way has too many variables and involves too many things I can't control, and that's not good. My safe house in Cincinnati is easy to get to. We can't let anyone else know what we're doing, not even Aubriana,\" she said.\n\n\"Aubriana, come back in, you're coming with us. Noel, put your shroud on, with the hood up. We're leaving now,\" I said, agreeing with Noel and knowing exactly how we were going to get to Cincinnati.\n\n\"Really, Elle, weren't you listening to me?\"\n\n\"I was. You're right.\" I grabbed the jug of the elixir from the night stand and went out the door.\n\nNoel and Aubriana hurried after me, but I was already down the first flight of stairs before they caught up with me.\n\n\"El...\" but Noel's voice faded when she saw two Seekers up ahead. They were both big. The man had to be Chester. I had seen him go up and down the stairs a couple of times. There was no way it could be anyone else.\n\n\"Chester, haven't you gone down and gotten the jug full yet?\" I asked, walking up to the two of them.\n\nHe spun around and had a blank look on his face. The girl was equally as big as Chester. I was hoping it was Steel. We would have to wait and see.\n\n\"Who are you and—\"\n\nI cut him off. \"Really, you buffoon? You're going to question me when you have failed Xavier so many times already? He gives you a simple task and you can't even complete it.\"\n\nThe woman walked over to me. She was easily a foot taller and had one hundred pounds on me. If she wanted to, she could squash me like a bug.\n\n\"What do you want?\" I barked at her with as much confidence as I could, remembering how Cora and Genevieve sounded when they were wanting something to happen.\n\n\"I've never seen you before. Answer his question. Who are you?\" It was Steel.\n\n\"First of all, I don't answer to you,\" I said, pushing her shoulder. \"And secondly, Steel, Xavier sent you both here to get a simple task done. And what did you do? You left it up to Chester. He's not even a Seeker.\"\n\nI could see a little doubt in her eyes. I had to push further. I thrust the jug of elixir into her gut, catching her off guard. \"The next time he asks you to do something, do it yourself.\"\n\nShe nodded, which was a relief, holding tightly onto the jug. But now I had to get us out of here without any questions.\n\n\"You two are lucky I was sent to check on you without Ashlyn, because it could have easily been time for both of you to make your Final Sacrifice if she had been here.\" Both of their faces turned pale, scared at the thought of being confronted by Ashlyn. I walked over to the door. Noel and Aubriana followed. I pushed it open and turned back.\n\n\"There won't be another warning. Do I make myself clear? Because Xavier's Little Dove won't be as kind the next time.\" And I slammed the door shut behind us.\n\nThe three of us hurried along, away from the house toward the river, to a dock with several boats tied to it. We were going to escape. And for once I was the reason why I was okay.\n\nEND OF ELLE AND THE ESCAPE\nCongratulations to the Winners of  \nThe 2016 Hero Chronicles Writing Contest!\n\nGRAND PRIZE:\n\nNot in the Pink of Health\n\nby Deeya Prakash\n\nFIRST RUNNER UP:\n\nA Spark of Hope\n\nby Jonathan Waldmann\n\nSECOND RUNNER UP:\n\nFinding Mom\n\nby Marissa Riehm\n\n\"Bread, cheese, dish soap, yogurt, light bulbs, oh yes, we need butter!\" exclaimed Miranda as she walked through the aisles at MegaMart. Since they were going on a trip to Hawaii in two weeks, the week's shopping list wasn't as long. She picked up two sticks of butter and refocused her eyes on her list.\n\nBread, dish soap, cheese, butter, yogurt, light bulbs, bug spray.\n\nAll she needed now was the bug spray. She knew how much her dad hated mosquitoes and how bad they bit this time of year. She picked up the can labeled KeepAway. She hummed as she proceeded to check out. This was the first time her mother had let her go to the grocery store for the weekly shopping. But, Miranda understood why.\n\nA few weeks ago, there had been a huge scare all over the West Coast due to the outbreak of a deadly disease called the Pink Fever. It was all over the news channels and Internet, and people couldn't stop talking about it.\n\nIn the middle of July, an airport security guard at the Reno-Tahoe International Airport started developing symptoms of the Pink Fever. The authorities had spent countless days searching for the individual suspected of bringing the disease into the country, and finally identified him as a man who had arrived from a remote African town. But, before they could find him, he had disappeared.\n\nGradually, more people became infected. Doctors and researchers worked day in and day out to contain the spread of the disease and find a cure. During this period of time, no child was allowed out of the house, and many adults didn't leave either, fearing that they might catch the fever and pass it on to their family.\n\nThe Pink Fever was a contagious condition consisting of five stages. During the first stage, your body temperature rises to scorching levels. Then, you start developing pink rashes all over your body. Third, the pink spots expand, covering your entire body from head to toe. Fourth, you become incredibly weak, barely able to lift even a sheet of paper. The fifth stage is the last and final stage—death. The first few stages normally last for about a week or two each, but once you develop the fourth stage, it could be only a matter of hours before the disease takes you away. The fatal fever was caused by a virus, and it had already claimed dozens of lives.\n\nFinally, after immense research, a scientist discovered an antidote. Immediately, doctors and nurses set to work, trying to cure as many people as possible. The only problem was that the first dose of the antidote had to be given within 48 hours of coming in contact with the virus. The infected person had to also take the antidote every day for the next five days in a controlled environment, such as the Research Center Laboratories at the Medical Center of Nevada (RCLMCN). For good measure, even those who had no trace of the Pink Fever could take one dose of the antidote if their doctor thought it was necessary.\n\nAs she waited to checkout, Miranda shivered. She just kept telling herself that no one in the city of Los Angeles had the Fever anymore, and even if it did break out again, the scientists now had an antidote. But, since the original carrier hadn't been found yet, Miranda still felt slightly uneasy. Some said that he must have died, while others believed he was still on the run. As for Miranda, she thinks he's still out there, lurking in the alleys, just waiting for—\n\n\"Next!\" barked the grumpy woman behind the counter. Miranda snapped out of her daze and quickly began loading her merchandise onto the conveyor belt. Once all of her products had been bagged, she slapped a twenty dollar bill on the counter and quickly left the shop with two bags on each arm, determined not to catch the grumpy cashier's eye.\n\nAs soon as Miranda was safely outdoors, she heaved a big sigh and started for home. She lived in a medium-sized house with her mother, father, and her older brother, Caleb. It was about two blocks away from MegaMart, which came in handy when they had to make quick, last minute trips.\n\nHalfway down the road, she started to feel itchy on her right elbow. Stopping to investigate, she noticed that she had gotten a bug bite. She dug her hand into one of the grocery bags and fished around. Unable to feel the familiar cylindrical shape of the KeepAway bottle, she shoved her hand into another bag. It wasn't in that one either. Another itch developed on her left knee, and another on her cheek. Frustrated, she peered into each bag. Bread, dish soap, cheese, butter, yogurt, light bulbs......no bug spray!! Dad would never forgive me if I forgot bug spray! She thought, Hang on. I never heard it drop out of my bag, and I'm sure the lady bagged it......so where could it be? Baffled, Miranda retraced her steps back toward MegaMart.\n\nShe hurried back inside the grocery store and checked the counter. Still nothing. She approached the grumpy cashier who was currently bagging items for an old lady. Miranda waited for her to finish and then approached the cashier.\n\n\"Excuse me,\" she said politely. The woman turned her head and glared at Miranda.\n\n\"Can I help you?\" she asked, chomping on a piece of gum. Miranda held out her receipt and handed it to the lady.\n\n\"Well, I paid for this can of bug spray, but it seems to not be in my bags. Did it get left on the counter?\" she asked.\n\n\"I bagged it all right!\" snapped the woman, shoving the receipt back at Miranda. Startled, Miranda fell over. She hit the tile with a loud thud and scratched her elbow on the side of the counter. Seething, Miranda hoisted herself up off of the ground and went to pick up her fallen bags. What's wrong with this lady? She peered inside each of them to make sure nothing had broken, and luckily, her lightbulbs had survived. But before she turned away, she noticed a hole, the size of her fist, in one of the bags. The bread must have been in front of it the whole time! How could she have missed it? It was getting dark, and she knew she should be heading home before her parents started to worry. She shrugged off the lost bug spray and decided to leave.\n\nShe began to walk out of the store, when she heard a rattling noise coming from outside the automatic doors. \"No time for distractions,\" she said, with an uneasy smile. When she stepped outside, she noticed a man behind the ice freezer. Before he could turn away, Miranda spotted her bug spray can, with the price tag still visible, peeking out of a brown, tattered sack that he was holding.\n\n\"Hey!\" she shouted. The strange man turned toward her. He had dark brown eyes, dark skin, no hair, and was holding a sack. He was wearing some type of cloak that was covering him head to toe, and one glove only on his right hand.\n\n\"You iz talk to me?\" he asked, in a thick accent.\n\n\"You stole my bug spray bottle, mister,\" she stated.\n\n\"Oh, I iz very sorry,\" he said, lifting the bug spray bottle out of his sack. Miranda noticed that he used his left hand. \"You see, I iz trying to collect lost items, since I haz no money.\" He quickly handed her the now grimy bottle, and she put it into one of her shopping bags.\n\n\"Well, you're lucky that I won't be reporting you to the police,\" she shouted, and the man took off. She scolded herself. Why did she snap at him? He was, after all, just a poor man scrounging for lost items. This is when she should feel grateful for her blessing. She sighed.\n\n\"Hey, mister!\" she called back. He stopped abruptly, and turned himself to face her.\n\n\"Hay iz for horsez, miss,\" he said, and laughed at his own joke.\n\n\"Here,\" she said, hands shaking as she pulled out a five dollar bill from her pocket. His eyes widened as he sprinted back towards her and snatched it from her hand.\n\n\"You iz nice girl,\" he said. Smiling, he turned and ran.\n\nEven though he seemed like a nice man, Miranda couldn't help feeling a little scared about handling the bug spray bottle. Maybe he had replaced it with poison, or maybe a potion that caused death or—\n\nMiranda shook her head, clearing her mind. Stop thinking about it, she thought, although she was still a bit suspicious, so she quickened her pace. If she didn't get home in time to catch part of the World Series, her dad would make sure Miranda never stopped hearing about it.\n\nWhen she arrived in her neighborhood, she removed the bug spray bottle from the shopping bag. She studied it, and noticed that it had become quite sticky and some of the wrapping had begun to peel off. Given the circumstances, she decided that she wouldn't let anyone use it, and walked around her house towards the community garbage bin. She tossed it in. Feeling much better, Miranda hummed all the way home.\n\nAs usual, her mother had left the garage door open. As carefully as possible, she weaved her way through all of Caleb's sports stuff, her mom's gardening tools, and her dad's lawn equipment until she finally reached the door. She pulled it open. Comforted by the familiar sound of her mom cooking, and her dad and Caleb cheering for their favorite baseball team, she smiled and walked into the house.\n\n\"Oh Miranda, honey, thank goodness you're back! We were starting to get a little worried!\" her mom said, taking off her oven mitten to wrap her in a hug.\n\n\"No, we weren't. Just mom was. Besides, I was enjoying the peace and quiet without you,\" yelled Caleb over the blaring of the TV.\n\nPeace and quiet? Sure... nice one Caleb, thought Miranda, but she didn't bother to reply. Miranda's mom let go and went back to her cooking.\n\nBut Dad came to the rescue. \"Caleb, don't bully your sister. We've talked about this a million times. Apologize,\" said her father, putting up the recliner. He paused the TV and then turned it off.\n\nCaleb groaned. \"Dad, come on, we need to finish the World Series,\" he whined, walking into the kitchen.\n\n\"The World Series can wait. Come, set the table. Let's not allow TV get in the way of the one family meal of your day,\" he said. Spoken like a true parent.\n\nMiranda began to unload the groceries. She stuck the cheese, yogurt, and bread in the fridge and emptied the bottle of dish soap into the sink soap dispenser. After she was done with that, she handed the light bulbs to her dad.\n\n\"Here, Dad. I'm pretty sure I got the right kinds. You wanted the white kind, not the soft white, right?\" she asked.\n\n\"Yep. These are the ones,\" he said taking them from her.\n\n\"Did you remember the bug spray?' he asked.\n\nUh oh. She hadn't thought about what to do if one of her family members noticed it missing! Should she tell her father what happened, or should she keep it to herself? She didn't want to worry him, or her mom either. But, she had never lied before. Caleb was always the one who lied, not her. She kept arguing with herself until her father brought her back to Earth.\n\nHe cleared his throat.\n\n\"Oh, the bug spray bottle! Right, um, well I um, forgot it. I'll bring it tomorrow, I promise!\" she stammered, developing a quick cover story.\n\n\"I don't get it, Miranda. You made a list. Unless you can't read, you should be able to follow your own directions,\" Caleb teased from the dining room.\n\n\"Just shut up, Caleb,\" Miranda spluttered. If only he knew.\n\n\"Sorry, can't shut up. My award-winning micro-processor brain can only shut down,\" he said laughing. Gosh, he could be so annoying sometimes.\n\nThe family gathered for dinner and said their prayers. After that, they began to eat. The gooey lasagna warmed Miranda's stomach. Mom's cooking was the best!\n\n\"Just think, Miranda. What if there was a machine that would know exactly what you needed from the grocery store? Kind of like a grocery GPS. You would walk in, and it would tell you where your product was located. That way, you would be able to spend barely anytime at the store looking through a bunch of stuff, and scatter-brains like you would never forget an item!\" Caleb said.\n\n\"You know, it could happen. I just finished a science-fiction book with robots and cyborgs and androids and—\"\n\n\"Miranda, honey, don't you think it's time for you to start reading some non-fiction? You know, to help you learn something useful instead of daydream?\"\n\nNo way mom, she thought. She hated non-fiction and preferred a book that provided somewhere into which she could escape, like fiction and fantasy.\n\nOnce everybody had finished their dinner, Miranda and her mom went back to the kitchen to clean up, and she followed her dad and Caleb back to the TV to watch the remainder of the game. She curled up in her favorite chair and opened her sci-fi novel and began to read, glancing up at the TV once in a while. Finally, around 9 pm, the game ended, and switched to the daily 9 o'clock news, which they watched every night.\n\nClosing her book she noticed that the scratch that she had gotten on her elbow from when she fell in MegaMart had started to bleed.\n\n\"Mom, I'm going to grab a Band-Aid,\" she said, approaching the staircase. Her mom nodded. Miranda walked up the stairs and was almost at the top when she heard her mom and dad gasp loudly. She quickly ran back down the stairs and barreled into the living room. There, she found her mom, dad and Caleb gaping at the TV in silence. The heading read BREAKING NEWS... ORIGINAL PINK FEVER VICTIM SPOTTED...\n\n\"He-He's been spotted\" said her dad, fingers shaking, and pointing to a black and white picture. She directed her eyes toward it. There stood the fuzzy outline of a man, covered in pink spots, with dark brown eyes and no hair . . . standing in front of MegaMart.\n\nShe scanned the scrolling news banner. Taken on May 1st, 2100 at 18:00. That was 3 hours ago.\n\nMiranda shook with fear. The man she had met not too long ago looked very similar to the man in the picture. Were they from the same town? Were they related? If either of those things were true, then the two men would at least look a little different, wouldn't they? I just met another random man on the street, that's all, she told herself. There's no connection between him and the wanted man at all.\n\nShe looked back at the picture. It was blurry, so she couldn't be certain. She was about to turn away when something caught her eye. Clutched in the man's hand was a five-dollar bill.\n\nNo. Absolutely not. He couldn't be. How could he?\n\n\"D-D-Dad,\" she stuttered.\n\n\"What is it, honey?\" he asked with a look of concern on his face.\n\n\"I gave him that five dollar bill,\" she whispered.\n\nHer dad's look of surprise and confusion was the last thing Miranda saw before she fainted.\n\n**\n\nShe woke up in a wheelchair.\n\n\"Mom,\" she whispered in a shaky voice.\n\n\"Miranda, honey, I'm here,\" she said in a voice that didn't suit her at all. Miranda knew that voice. It was her mom's I'm-going-to-pretend-that-everything's-alright voice. She had used it the time Caleb had fallen out of a tree and broke his wrist. She waved the thought away. Miranda's aching body jogged her memories. She remembered that she had fainted, and checked to see if anything was broken. She checked her right arm. No damage. Then she checked her left arm. Nothing. Then, she turned her arm over. Right over her wrist joint, there was a faint pink blotch. She tried to scrub it off with her knuckles, but it wouldn't budge. Gradually, her memories of the day before flooded back.\n\n\"Mom, where are we going?\" she asked, in a rather tense voice. She gripped the edge of her wheelchair, knuckles turning white.\n\n\"I'll explain on the hovercraft, sweetheart. You've been out for quite some time. Almost a day,\" she said.\n\nWow, the hovercraft? Miranda knew that the Los Angeles government was the first in the country to purchase two hovercrafts. They hadn't been used yet and were supposed to be saved for only extreme medical emergencies. Miranda didn't think she had even seen one before! Where were they taking her?\n\n\"Don't worry,\" her mother soothed. That voice she was using was really bothering Miranda. Miranda sighed and looked around. She was being wheeled through a patch of grass. The sun was shielded behind a cloud, and there was a slight breeze. Miranda inhaled, smelling the sweet aroma of nature.\n\nSuddenly, she felt the ground shake. She looked around. At first she thought it was an earthquake. Growing up in an earthquake-prone town, Miranda had learned all about them. But there wasn't just rumbling. A dark shadow appeared on the patch of grass in front of them. Then she heard the soft, slow whirring of an engine, and glanced up into the sky. Miranda's eyes widened as she gaped at the beautiful vehicle descending upon them. Almost as if they had taken an image from one of Miranda's science-fiction novels, the hovercraft appeared almost exactly like a flying saucer. It looked as if it were made entirely out of glass with different shades of blue and gray. The propeller at the rear of the craft spun without sound. Miranda pinched herself several times before she actually believed she was conscious. This is the coolest thing I have ever seen, she thought. But she was in for more. As soon as the hovercraft had come to a complete stop, she felt her wheelchair moving again. A silver ramp with swirled handrails extended from the craft's door and landed with a light thud on the grass. Miranda sat in stunned silence as she was wheeled up into the hovercraft by her mother, followed by another woman, whom Miranda hadn't noticed until just now.\n\n\"That's your doctor,\" her mom said, after noticing Miranda's look of confusion. The doctor had on a loose pair of scrubs and a white coat. She had red pointed glasses and hair pulled into a tight bun. Miranda noticed that both her mom and the doctor had on latex gloves. The doctor caught her eye and smiled. Miranda managed a thin smile back and turned away. She looked around the craft. There were stunning mosaics decorating the walls made of shiny multicolored tiles and glittering lights lining the aisles. Her mom helped her out of the chair and into a seat. The seats felt as if they were made from velvet and the windows were crystal clear. Miranda couldn't help but grin. She wanted her own hovercraft! She let her eyes wander more, and noticed a sign light up above the cockpit. It read: \"15 minutes.\" She gazed out the window. The craft lifted off, and her ears filled with pressure. After about five minutes of sitting and thinking, she decided that her confusion couldn't stay bottled up forever.\n\n\"Mom, tell me,\" she said, with a look of determination.\n\n\"What do you want to know?\" she said, with an unreadable expression.\n\n\"Everything,\" she replied.\n\n\"All right,\" said her mom, and heaved a big sigh. \"As you have probably noticed, you have developed symptoms of the Pink Fever, and you're in stage one as of now, so we're trying to rush you to Research Center Laboratories at the Medical College of Nevada for the antidote treatment,\" she said. Miranda shivered, despite her high fever. Her mom continued.\n\n\"Weeks ago, the antidote had been transferred to the RCLMCN. There was a minor outbreak of a different viral infection that had similar symptoms to the Fever. Thinking it was the Pink Fever, the scientists from the Southern California University took all of the antidote they had with them and flew to Nevada. When they found out that it was a different infection, they were able to treat it without the antidote. As they were leaving, they left the antidote with the scientists. So the closest place near Los Angeles where the antidote can be administered is the RCLMCN,\" she finished, with a deep breath.\n\n\"So that's where we're going,\" said Miranda.\n\n\"Yes, dear. Now don't worry, you're going to be fine.\"\n\nShe glanced at the sign above the cockpit. It now read, \"Prepare for landing.\"\n\nThe craft started to descend. This was Miranda's least favorite part (at least while riding on an airplane), and the added fatigue and dreadful throbbing all over her body didn't help at all. Her ears filled up with pressure and her arms plastered to her cushion seat. When the hovercraft finally hit the ground, Miranda yawned, and her ears instantly popped. That works in a hovercraft too, she thought. She heaved herself out of the chair and slowly walked out of the craft. She observed her surroundings. They were in another grassy patch, but this grass was brown and withered, and the air smelled like sand and heat.\n\n\"Miranda, sit in the wheelchair. We need you to conserve your energy,\" said her doctor. Obediently, she sat down.\n\nShe was wheeled into the laboratory building. Miranda noticed that almost all of the rooms were made of glass, and there were scales and scientific equipment in every one. She could see people in white lab coats and gloves bustling around vibrantly-colored liquids, examining each and every one carefully. All of the doors were closed, except for one at the end of the hallway. This room had a bed and a window, and wasn't made of glass. Her mom wheeled her into it and Miranda painstakingly heaved herself up and sat on the bed. On the bedside table, there was a sheet that said her full name and a bunch of scientific words she didn't understand. On the other table, there was a syringe full of purple liquid. Miranda had always wondered what the antidote looked like. She had pictured it pink, not purple. Her doctor left the room, but her mom, stayed right next to her bed.\n\n\"Ah, hello Miranda!\" said a warm, welcoming voice. Miranda turned her head. In the doorway was a rather skinny young man, with glasses and a crooked nose. He was wearing a white coat with his name embroidered on it, but he was too far away for Miranda to read it.\n\n\"Um, hi,\" she said.\n\n\"I can see that you've been a victim of the Pink Fever, but no matter! We have the antidote ready and after a few day's treatment and lots of rest you'll be as good as new,\" he said jovially. She gave a weak smile back, trying very hard not to explode with rage. How could he be so happy? She was in pain here!\n\n\"Now, without further ado, Miranda, I would like you to please hold out your right arm, facing up,\" he said. Trembling, she obeyed.\n\n\"Mom,\" she whispered. Now she was nervous.\n\n\"I'm right here, lil' turtle. I love you.\"\n\nMiranda loved that name.\n\n\"Okay, I want you to take a deep breath. I'm going to insert the antidote into your vein on your right arm, and it will hurt a little. But I know you're a brave girl. Are you ready?\"\n\nAt least he was honest about pain. Miranda mustered a slight nod, bracing herself.\n\n\"You're going to have to hold your daughter's hand tightly, she may flail,\" he said to my mother. How's that supposed to make me feel better? She wondered.\n\n\"After she receives the antidote, she'll sleep for about 30 minutes, so don't be alarmed if she doesn't wake up right away,\" he said, and picked up the syringe.\n\n\"On three: one, two, three!\"\n\nPain like no other coursed through her body and she let out a loud scream. Then, as soon as it had started, it ended. Miranda fell asleep.\n\n***\n\nThis process continued for five more days. Every day after taking her supplement, Miranda would drift off into an uneasy sleep and would wake up unrefreshed and weak. She couldn't move a muscle and didn't have an appetite. She was beginning to think that she wouldn't make it. She slowly started losing hope. But after her last dose of antidote, things started to turn around.\n\n\"Miranda, Miranda, wake up darling. Come on sweetheart, you can do it.\"\n\nMiranda eased her eyes open. It was her mom. Caleb was standing on the other side of the bed, along with her dad.\n\n\"Hey,\" said her dad.\n\n\"Hay is for horses,\" she said and chuckled, but quickly stopped, as she remembered. She decided that her favorite part of the day was that moment, right when she woke up, when she didn't remember anything. She wished the moment could last longer.\n\n\"How are you feeling?\" asked Caleb.\n\n\"Better,\" she confessed. Her body had stopped aching as much and she felt a little more like herself.\n\n\"I've got something to tell you,\" Miranda started, but Caleb shook his head, smiling.\n\n\"We already know. After you were diagnosed, we went back to MegaMart and checked for evidence. Sure enough, some really grumpy woman behind the counter had witnessed the whole scenario and reported it to the police. You're safe now.\" Miranda couldn't help but laugh. Even her brother thought that woman was grumpy. She averted her gaze to her wrist. There was a huge bulky bandage over the joint. She looked away.\n\n\"What happened to the man?\" she asked.\n\n\"He was found the day you gave him the money. Apparently the only reason he hadn't admitted himself sooner was because he didn't have any money. Because he was discovered late in the advanced stages of the Pink Fever, he couldn't take the antidote. But, the doctors are working hard to try to get him healthy again,\" replied her mother.\n\nHer dad's eyes met hers. \"C'mon, kiddo.\" he said. \"Let's put all this behind us and think happy thoughts. You need to rest and gain your energy back for our upcoming vacation, right?\" He smiled. Miranda had almost forgotten! Hawaii! Her paradise!\n\nShe lay back down on the bed and closed her eyes. As she pictured the turquoise waters and the cream-colored sand, she sighed, and slowly drifted off to sleep.\n\nEND OF NOT IN THE PINK OF HEALTH\n\nThe sun begins its brilliant ascent from below the horizon. It is a warm summer day; a soft breeze accompanies the heat. A figure stands looking off into the distance, as if contemplating something important. He turns, revealing his light blonde hair and deep blue eyes. He is a slender man. He holds his hands in his pockets as he casually gazes at the dawn of the new day.\n\nHe begins to walk away from where he's standing, raising his hands from his pockets to his hips. This motion reveals that he is wearing a pair of gloves, but these are no ordinary gloves. The gloves are made from light black cloth, and the tips of the gloves' fingers seem to have been hardened. He holds a piece of paper in his hands, reading it closely as if to remember something important. He drops the paper and continues on.\n\nThe paper flutters to the ground, revealing its inscription. \"Do what is right.\"\n\n***\n\n\"What a nice store you have here, don't you think?\" The hero stands inside the entrance of a shop, looking around at the stock. The store is dotted with many colored wires, as if he just walked into an electricity hub.\n\nThe shopkeeper looks up at him with a smile. \"Why, thank you. I try my best. Now, what brings you here, young man?\"\n\nThe hero moves from the doorway to the counter where the shopkeeper stands. \"By any chance do you have high insulation copper-alloy wiring in stock?\"\n\n\"Yes, I think so. Let me go check.\" The shopkeeper dashes through a door leading into a back room.\n\nAfter a few minutes go by, he comes back in, holding a box full of colored wires bunched inside. \"Don't usually get such a specific order. How much do you want?\" The shopkeeper sets the box on the counter and waits for an answer.\n\nThe hero looks down into the box, gazing back up at him with a smirk on his face. \"I'll take all of it.\"\n\nThe shopkeeper looks up at him with aghast. He laughs. \"That'll cost you a pretty penny; this wiring doesn't come cheap.\"\n\nThe hero, with an even smugger look on his face, responds calmly, \"That's fine. I have plenty to spend on it.\" He grabs a piece of paper from his pocket and, with a pen conveniently on the counter, scribbles a note on it. He hands the note to the shopkeeper. \"Here, take this to the City Treasury and have them take the money out of my research fund.\"\n\nThe shopkeeper opens the note, and a look of shock crosses his face. \"Wait! You're the Paul Crowell? That explains why you would need so much wiring.\"\n\nPaul laughs and responds, \"Yup, they don't call me 'The Conduit' for nothing. Thanks for the wires, man. It'll help.\"\n\nThe shopkeeper smiles. \"No, thank you. Haven't had business all day. You just became my best customer.\"\n\nPaul laughs and grabs the box, starting to walk away. \"I'm flattered.\"\n\nSuddenly, they hear a crash from across the street.\n\n\"Whelp, that doesn't sound good.\" Paul runs quickly out of the store and into a chase scene in front of him on the street. A man runs down the street, holding a gun and a bag under his arm. He is pursued by the police who look as if they cannot contain him, even with their best efforts. The police desperately fire shots at him, but their bullets seem to deflect off his clothing. Paul runs in front of him, as if running in front of a pack of bulls. The police stop shooting, and the man stops in his tracks. Paul sifts through his pocket, revealing a badge. The police look shocked, and one of them shouts into a Walkie-Talkie.\n\n\"Do not send back up! A specialist has appeared out of nowhere and—\"\n\nThe criminal starts to sprint, trying to push past Paul. Paul pushes him back to where he was standing, making him stumble to the ground. The criminal jumps up, anticipating an attack from Paul.\n\n\"Save me the trouble and stop trying to run away.\" Paul throws the box of wires on the ground and looks the criminal in the eye with a glare that would make any person step back. The criminal laughs and raises his gun at Paul, ready to pull the trigger.\n\nPaul interrupts him first. \"I wouldn't do that if I were you.\" Paul shifts his intensity to a smirk. \"If I get hit by one of those bullets, I'll explode. Think of it as an equivalent exchange. You kill me, I kill you.\"\n\n\"Really? You think I'm going to believe something so wild?\"\n\nPaul chuckles at him. \"Why don't I let you in on a little secret, shall I?\" Paul unzips his jacket slowly, revealing a mass of wires resting on him. \"Why don't I introduce myself? My name is Paul Crowell, known to many as 'The Conduit'.\"\n\nThe criminal looks unimpressed. \"Never heard of you.\"\n\n\"I'd think twice about shooting me. The wires around my body are constantly conducting electricity in a current. I can switch it from different types of currents at will.\" The criminal clutches his gun, which is still aimed at Paul, and pulls the trigger.\n\nThe bullet flies and hits Paul right in the stomach. He steps back, staggering from the shock, but the wires are acting oddly. Electricity jumps from his body, conducting into the criminal's body. The criminal falls to the ground, paralyzed.\n\nPaul stands over him, holding the wound where he was shot. \"I made the current a direct current and connected my palms. That means if the current is disrupted, the electricity leaps out and disperses. Luckily, you were wearing steel-lined clothing; don't think I didn't notice it. Your clothes acted as a lightning rod for it.\" He takes a step back, his hand still on his wound.\n\nThe man on the ground laughs with what little strength he has left. \"Did anyone ever tell you giving away your plans is always a bad idea?\"\n\nSuddenly, a shooting pain goes throughout Paul's stomach. A blade protrudes from him. Another attacker stands behind Paul.\n\n\"How does it feel to be the hero now?\" The attacker twists the blade, making it increasingly more painful.\n\n\"It feels great, especially when I rid the world of scum like you two.\" Paul grabs the blade going through him and his gloves begin to give off electricity. The electricity jumps through the blade, traveling through the thug, leaving him on the ground like the first criminal with the gun.\n\n\"I must say, don't surprise a person like me who startles easily.\" He holds his hand to the wound, using his other hand to signal to the police in pursuit of the criminals. They rush in, looking over the scene.\n\n\"Thank you for your help, Crowell. We'll take it from here. We've called an ambulance to tend to your wounds.\"\n\n\"I don't need an ambulance, I'm just fine.\" He continues on. He begins to walk away, removing his hand from his stomach. Blood stains his hand. The color drains from his face. He falls over, disoriented. He lies there, incapacitated by the side of the crime scene.\n\n***\n\nPaul springs awake, shocked that he is resting in a hospital bed. He is connected to an IV, and bandages are wrapped around his stomach and arms. A doctor stands next to his bed, talking to a man in a dark blue uniform stitched with golden stripes and stars.\n\n\"Well, what do you know? He's awake. How are you feeling, Mr. Crowell?\"\n\nDisoriented, Paul sits up in his bed. \"Terrible! I just realized I left a whole box of wires on the ground at the crime scene.\"\n\nThe room erupts with laughter. The man wearing the uniform opened his mouth to speak. \"Just what I thought you'd say. I had them sent to your home.\"\n\nPaul smiled. \"Good. I don't know how I would repair my uniform without them, General.\"\n\n\"I'll have you know the higher ups were impressed by what happened. Those two crooks were some of the most wanted villains in the country.\"\n\nPaul attempts to stand up, but the IV holds him back. \"Glad I could help. There's nothing more satisfying than getting those kinds of people off the streets.\"\n\nThe general laughs. \"I'm glad you think so, because the higher ups were so happy they bumped you up a rank. Congratulations, Lieutenant.\"\n\n\"Why, thank you, General. Couldn't have done it without everyone's help, especially my wife. She passes me encouraging notes every day, even this morning.\"\n\n\"What a wonderful person she must be. Make sure to tell her I said hello,\" says the general.\n\n\"Will do, sir.\" Paul says, and with that the general is off. Paul lies back down in his hospital bed and sighs.\n\n\"I'll be back later to check on you,\" says the doctor, and he leaves as well.\n\n\"Now, how long 'til I leave this place?\" Paul asks out loud as the doctor walks out, but the doctor ignores him. \"Not too long I hope. I have to use those wires!\" He laughs to himself, any other worries escaping him. Soon though, there would be more things to worry about.\n\nEND OF A SPARK OF HOPE\n\n\"Are we doing anything on Saturday? I have a friend's birthday party to go to.\"\n\n\"It's your mom's birthday. You know that. We're going to look through the family scrapbook and make a cake—\"\n\n\"That no one will eat,\" I interrupted. \"Why do we even celebrate her birthday? She abandoned us when I was three.\" I was annoyed. It had been twelve years since I'd last seen my mother and I wasn't really into the whole \"celebrating a stranger's birthday\" thing.\n\n\"I was going to say that we would make a cake for us to enjoy. But anyway, you're not going to that other birthday party. We're going to spend the day together. And Callie, that's final!\" yelled John, my dad.\n\nI groaned. Instead of calling my dad \"Dad,\" I call him by his first name, John. I guess I just think of him as more of a friend than a parent.\n\nI remember very little of my mom. She has brown hair and bright blue eyes. I remember staring up at them when I was young. She used to sing me to sleep every night, at least that's what I'm told. I love her because she is my mom, but I hate her for leaving John and me alone. I don't know how it's possible to feel two completely different feelings at once. John said Mom had a good reason for leaving, but I'm not sure I fully believe him. What could possibly be a good enough reason? People say my mom was a wonderful person. But I don't understand why my mom would just abandon John and me if she was such a good person. There is so much I don't know and so much I don't understand.\n\n***\n\nIt was after dinner and I was sitting in my room. Everything was black and images started to appear. I was seeing something like a vision. A guy was chasing someone who looked like my mother. A ball of fire appeared in midair; it looked like it came from the guy's hand. Then, the woman held her hand up as a ball of water deflected the fireball. The man threw a second ball of fire and it hit the woman and she fell to the ground. The guy started sprinting away. As the woman turned around I could tell it was definitely my mother. In the distance, I could see a sign that said \"Welcome to The Cincinnati Zoo.\"\n\nI could see normally again and the vision-like scene seemed to be over. I was freaked out and surprised by what I had seen. I had never experienced this vision-like scene, but I felt like it was believable and I had to act on it.\n\nI immediately ran down the stairs, knowing John was sleeping, and hopped into the car. I was only fifteen years old and had just gotten my driving permit, but I felt like this was worth the risk. The zoo was close, only five minutes away. I knew the way.\n\nAs I arrived at the zoo I saw my sobbing mother. I was so relieved to see that the vision was real and I was actually seeing my mother. I ran up to her full of questions but kept quiet and put my hand on her back, patting her gently.\n\nWhy? Why did I have a vision? Why does my mom have special powers? Why was my mom ambushed? I had so many questions, but I knew I would have to wait for the answers.\n\nWe talked the rest of the night. I filled her in on what was happening in my life. And she explained to me why she left. I was not filled with hatred for my mom but hatred toward myself, for expecting the worst from her.\n\n\"When I was younger I was blessed with powers. I don't know who gave them to me or how I got them. My powers are made up of the four elements: Earth, Water, Heat and Air. Once I had gained a basic understanding of my powers, I chose to show my brother. At first he had fun with me, and the powers were like something ordinary to us, but then we grew older and he started wanting my powers. He would spend hours in his room. I imagine he was finding ways to take my powers. At the time I was the only person with power and his jealousy grew. He became more angered and he was always in his room. Some nights I would hear him throwing items in his room. My parents always worked late, so they never noticed.\n\n\"I was married and pregnant with you when my brother finally figured out how to take my powers. He attacked me one week after you were born and I was not strong enough to hold him back. After two months of worry for you and John, I decided I must leave and it was the hardest thing, it truly was,\" Mom explained.\n\n\"I'm so sorry, I had no idea,\" I said.\n\n\"Ever since then, I've been on the run, but trying to stay close,\" Mom mentioned.\n\n\"Thank you for explaining. I love you,\" I replied.\n\n\"I love you too,\" Mom said.\n\n\"When I gave birth to you, my Air and Earth powers transferred to you. My brother grew jealous of me and found a way to take my powers away. If my brother could take my powers, he could take yours or hurt you. This is why I left you and John, I would not let myself endanger you. My brother ended up taking my powers of heat. Now all I'm left with are my water powers. Unfortunately, as my powers weakened, I myself weakened.\"\n\n\"Are you saying that I have powers?\" I asked.\n\n\"Yes,\" Mom replied.\n\n\"Wow,\" I said. I was surprised and excited. How was it possible?\n\nI stared at the ground, feeling ashamed of myself. Why would I judge someone by just one thing they did? It wasn't like me. My mom's fingers brushed through my tangled hair. I laid my head down on my mom's knee, and then she started singing a lullaby to me. Instead of denying the babyish song, I enjoyed it and let the lullaby put me to sleep. The next thing I knew, it was morning.\n\n\"You'd better get going. I should too.\"\n\n\"But what if your brother comes back?\" I asked, scared to be left alone again without her.\n\n\"I'll be fine. You'll know where to find me if you need me,\" Mom replied.\n\n\"Why can't you come home and stay with us?\" I questioned.\n\n\"How about we meet here every Saturday at two o'clock? Okay?\"\n\n\"But Mom, can't you come home for your birthday?\"\n\n\"I told you this already. The second I go home, you and Dad will be in danger. I won't let myself do that to you. I am truly, very sorry,\" she explained.\n\nI lifted up my head and she held my hands. I stared into her eyes as she did with mine. She made me feel warm. Her skin was so soft and I enjoyed it. I really did not want her to go, but I knew I had to trust her if we were going to have any type of relationship. I was so ashamed of myself for not seeking the truth earlier.\n\n***\n\nWe both started walking back to our cars. She turned toward me and I faced her too. She was only an inch taller than me. Her eyes were full of sadness. I opened my arms, thinking she would run up and hug me. I was mistaken. She just stood there and stared without expression. I was still in shock from having powers and finding my mother. I got in my car and turned the key. By the time I looked up Mom had already left with smoke trailing behind her car.\n\nWhen I got home, John was on the couch. He was unhappy.\n\n\"Where have you been?\" he asked.\n\n\"Discovering things,\" I replied.\n\n\"What does that mean?\"\n\nI could tell he wasn't happy with me being gone the entire night with no explanation. It was breakfast time, so hopefully food would calm him down. I didn't know how I was going to get out of this mess.\n\n\"I was finding Mom.\"\n\n\"Did you find anything?\"\n\n\"Yes!\" My face was wet. I was crying. I was happy to have found Mom. I was also scared of what was going to happen next.\n\nJohn got up and walked over to me. He hugged me and I felt better. I felt like I could take on the world, or at least I could take on my crazy family. Now I would have a relationship with my mom, and John would have a relationship too, even if it was secret. Now I would learn more about super powers and about defending myself, my, mom and John. Now I could know the truth.\n\n\"I love you, Callie,\" John said.\n\nI smiled and closed my eyes. \"I love you most.\"\n\nEND OF FINDING MOM\nAre you a fan of  \nTHE HERO CHRONICLES?\n\nBe the first to get fan exclusives and insider Thusie information by engaging with The Hero Chronicles' author online.\n\nVisit the links below to talk directly to Tim Mettey, stay up-to-date on his writing process, get insight into the world of The Hero Chronicles, and even catch some sneak peeks of future books.\n\nJoin other Thusies around the world on:\n\nFacebook.com/tim.mettey  \nTwitter.com/TimMettey  \nPinterest.com/timmettey\n\n#Thusies #TheHeroChronicles\nABOUT THE AUTHOR\n\nTim Mettey serves as CEO at Matthew 25: Ministries, an international humanitarian and disaster relief organization. Tim uses his many experiences and expertise in responding to disasters around the world to set the background for his The Hero Chronicles series. Tim struggles with and has overcome multiple learning disabilities with reading and writing to create this series. Tim advocates for literacy and education worldwide and hopes his journey can be an inspiration to others. He says, \"Our disabilities do not define who we are, they make us stronger.\"\n\nTim is the father of four beautiful daughters: Olivia, Cora, Noel and Ashlyn.\n\n", "meta": {"pile_set_name": "BookCorpus2"}}
{"text": " \nDiary of a FRENCH academic\n\n(Summer 2010)\n\nJean-Philippe DENIS\n\nCopyright Jean-Philippe DENIS 2010\n\nWith Smashwords Edition\n\nLicense Notes\n\nThis ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.\n\nJuly 24, 2010\n\nSome reasons why it is (strategically) reasonable to sell the Apple stock\n\nIn early 2007, I took my course as a support strategy for the spectacle presented by S. Jobs at MacWorld January 6, 2007. With students, we looked at the virtual jewel every angle and listened to the words of the prophet Jobs. Nothing remained but to wait for the June 2007 launch of the actual device in the U.S. and October 2007 for his arrival in Europe.\n\nWait for what? But the answer, of course, about the review that I gave: \"Why the iPhone Will it be a success, why should you buy Apple shares if you do not?\". Some students sent me an email of thanks since. Not all. Ingrates.\n\nWe are now in July 2010. And Apple has announced an increase, a new time record quarterly profit. The stock market continues its meteoric rise logically ... after experiencing some failures in recent times. In any case, incredibly few years ago, Apple's market capitalization now finally seems to anticipate that of Microsoft.\n\nSo, I see the future about promotions from consideration this year: \"Why IPAD will fail and why should you sell, without waiting, the Apple stock?\". Sorry one side of the subject but rather peremptory with \"digital natives\" sometimes you have to know not to make gloves for attention and get them out of their nose MacBooks and smartphones.\n\nWhat would be the ideal content of the copy that I would wait to review a little cow? Obviously, that would include the professor of strategy expects students to engage in a stress test, specifically strategic case Apple. And there are a few reasons to drive.\n\nAs a strategist, an excellent copy would report some major warning signs of strategic issues affecting today's business and how very clever one who would know how it will reach the treat.\n\nThe first is the obviously missed that one refuses to hear from Apple: reception problems on the iPhone 4 disappointment of fans due to the lack of relevant connections IPAD, not to mention the explosion Claims related to SHIFT constant and does not work, or not well. This could justify the standard replacement of a MacBook Pro just over a year (this applies to yours truly) ...\n\nAnd we note that Apple, one yields to the temptation to ridicule well known, and then deny, then deny. Duress, we come to recognize their lips while blaming the messengers that were denounced as enemies of the new company. Such is the case with the press now, which would be ill-disposed vis-à-vis the company. A complete when we know how the press, specifically, has graciously served the communication of Apple in recent years and particularly since the launch of the iPad.\n\nThe second symptom that falls within the copy is more disturbing: it is the inability of the management team to evolve as a cult of secrecy and closed model. It was the strength of Apple, it became his major source of vulnerability. It was a force, certainly, as it was to play the alternative, to position itself as the \"cool company\" against IBM in the 1980s and Microsoft in the 2000s, the latter being of also forced to leave the company to grow while she herself was under the influence of a charge of abuse of dominant position. It was a force, too, since that opinion leaders saw their adherence to the world \"MacWorld\" a sign of distinction consistent with their status. It was a force, finally, because at the intangible, to bring customers into a closed MacWorld was the pledge to sell other products and services via the iTunes platform, the lung is only thing Apple has ever offered and who is the real heart of its business model.\n\nBut at a time when Apple took the shift to mass development, all this is likely to become major weakness. First, the model-specific constants SHIFT Apple unbearable for an audience just learning (see a client in an Apple retailer did not understand the need to connect their iPhone to a computer several months after the acquisition me personally left speechless ...). The \"easy to use\" turns into \"hard to use\", worse than Windows viruses. While the \"smart\" (design) is becoming commonplace, with each new acquisition by any consumer. This is how Apple, which has made the distinction makes the sign of, finds himself caught in its own trap: to have Apple is now the standard agonist, plus the sign copy of a singularity. The temptation will be great then quickly go elsewhere, to practice the \"exit\" with joy as today, it's Apple, which tends to symbolize the nightmare of Orwell. More IBM. More Microsoft.\n\nFinally, the third symptom, and perhaps most disturbing of all is the rise of stock prices. After Enron, after Vivendi, after all the scandals and a wide variety we have seen how this could be perverse revving due to unreasonable expectations of the market. And one can legitimately wonder if Apple will resist the temptation to over-exploitation of revenue on past success.\n\nA malicious mind could also condemn the fact that since 2007, the company has innovated little. So, what does the iPhone actually 4 compared to 3G, which added nothing - or little - under 3G ... which does not present itself in that the potential additional marketing from the Hedge? Similarly, who would dare say that IPAD is anything but a big iPhone, first generation in its basic version? No, really, nothing new under the sun in Cupertino, at least in terms of \"smart\" and \"easy to use\" to quote the two key skills demanded by Apple and it helped build the success of the Apple and the iPhone.\n\nWhat lessons learned from these symptoms?\n\nFinally, one can wonder if the result is not already written as it refers to things, unfortunately, well known to researchers in strategy. Thus, the temptation will probably be high to offset the lack of innovation in existing markets through the adventure to new lands, to new territories. But so far without realizing that it requires a significant development of key competencies and that automatically increases the uncertainty and vulnerability.\n\nThe IbookSotre is the perfect illustration of the difficulties of this type of \"adventures\".\n\n1 / Unlike the phone and music, literature is a fragmented industry of choice - many small niche publishers with significant editorial value - and multi-domestic in nature - the first national catalogs. Unlikely, therefore, to achieve great success in reproducing the \"iTunes\", where it was only to bring order in an industry devastated by illegal downloading.\n\n2 / Unlikely, too, to reiterate the \"deal\" with developers, this time with the publishers, as the stories, skills - and cost structures - houses that make up the publishing industry are different from those of \"developers\". As writers, it seems that Apple wants to provide a direct outlet, without exception, they know not only work with publishers unless simply mediocre productions.\n\n3 / IbookStore ultimately does not much compared to a physical distribution which has always played in publishing, a major limitation: the music can be surconsommée, played and replayed thousands of times, organized in playlists, alternatives to a DJ at a party with friends. We will agree: this has nothing to do with the time necessary to trigger the relationship, always unique, rarely beyond one shot, with a reader.\n\n4 / The book, finally, unlike music, is an experience that requires the active cooperation of the reader, where the music carries the listener and does not require his attention, possibly even passive. Take the test and try to read while driving or doing your jogging ... you'll be surprised!\n\nExcellent copy could then conclude that, yes, the risk is actually proved to be too harsh in iTunes and its reproducibility, and IbookStore iPad would end, all things being equal, lead to the same Waterloo that the water industry has been for Enron after the success in the energy industries (gas and electric). And, like Enron, faced with repeated failures with respect to predictions, Apple continues to run after new Holy Grail: after the publishing field, the press, today the Interactive Advertising ... All of this is still a lot of targets for a single arrow, and it's bad timing because the arrows, precisely, competitors of all these sectors to sharpen, and the least we can say is that they are serious : Amazon, Google, Microsoft's old enemy, lying in wait, while Chinese and Indian producers already unsheathed their weapons low cost.\n\nIt would continue encouraging small holders to be vigilant and without doubt, the precautionary principle, to sell everything they own and which resemble closely or remotely close to Apple stock. Make no mistake, these small shareholders curse the copy in the coming months seeing the price of Apple stock to continue to grow, but they also bless later when they see the price fall, if nothing changes ... risk is generally acknowledged in the examination of a much more complex than the view, as always, markets always too quick to bolt.\n\nLike any good copy, however it would propose a new openness to \"possible, likely to halt the fatal fall of Icarus dear to Prof. Danny Miller. First, it would propose to S. Jobs reread Clausewitz and his principle of self-destruction of any strategy beyond the \"climax\". In other words, and may shock a little, she would recall the good old African proverb that \"the more the monkey climbs up the tree, the more he shows his ass\".\n\nThen she would invite the company to change its attitude. Stop denying the first warning signals. Do not strive to convince that we can have confidence that the company is credible, it has proved itself: the trust does not control. Stop repeating the environment that we have succeeded with the iPod by failing to specify that the iPod without iTunes, it was nothing, and that in the case of IBookStore, no one knows for now how to solve the equation. Stop referring to the iPhone challenge by failing to specify that a key element of success was the first success among developers, and currently it is difficult with the publishers.\n\nIn short, the copy simply invite S. Jobs to say he is considering ways to replicate the miracle that IbookStore, kind of melting pot of the two upstream channels (the problem of the Iphone) and downstream (ITunes problem) that just mentioned, reaches reap the same results. For what is at stake is nothing less than the capacity of Apple, once again, to go beyond the logic of transaction costs to enter the investment transaction. Nothing less, once again, that heckle the economic logic that has led to his Nobel Prize for Economics in 2009 OE Williamson. Nothing less.\n\nAnd the copy to conclude by recalling the conclusion ... that the strategy is the one who dared confront uncertainty. In this area any certainty is futile, reasoning about probability needed, taking some reference copies. These precautions referred, it becomes possible to raise the risk concepts and the work being seen to try, anyway, some risk taking, and prescribe reasonable to transfer the shares Apple. For, lest we forget, Enron had transformed its identity to define SMEs energy company at the height of his fame and just before his fall by \"we are a cool Company. And Vivendi, in the late 1990s, first made the mistake of being right too early in announcing the merger of container and contents and in trying to rush, but too fast under the pressure of unreasonable expectations chewed .\n\nAnd the Professor to give 20/20 to this work which will dare take the risk, first, to be far off. To incorporate the possibility for Apple to respond, including taking into account the \"stress test\" developed in the copy. But the substantive arguments are sound, no doubt. Conclude that S. Jobs must be nothing less than to deprive a nobel economy and lay the blame 20 years of research in business strategy, yes, not bad. Having seen that the subject naturally invited to consider the fulfillment of the dream jobs of S could now take her straight to fall hat.\n\nWhat dream? But the one to beat IBM at the time, Microsoft since the mid-1990s. Like Messier, who wanted to live his dream of adloescence and be the first global communications company. Like Enron, which at its peak, was defined not only as a business revolutionary. With the success that we know in retrospect. Achieving her dream, the strategy research demonstrates with great confidence, is the best way that everything ends in nightmare.\n\nP.S: Sent from my iPhone.\n\nJuly 30, 2010\n\nWho's kidding us ?\n\n\"These are men who write history, but they do not know the history they write.\"\n\n(Raymond Aron)\n\nAfter a busy year, I'm taking some vacation days, with a promise to disconnect ... somewhat. Insomnia, which prevents ever, breaks the rhythm of a few days of \"vacation\" and lead me in the lobby of the hotel where I finally found the wifi and yields to the temptation to see how the world turns .\n\nI say that dozens of information has already been and will continue to be, the subject of some posts (case-Woerth Bettencourt example). And that new news - the prefects scolded by our President, the status of university considered by the sages of the Constitutional Council. - Will no doubt be future posts that fingers itch for a few months ...\n\nBut I remember most startling information that she does not wait: the real estate prices have resumed their ascent mad Ile de France. They are preparing to push the limits of 2008, before the crisis. Interest rates near zero and maintain the mad machine have to do it all again.\n\nSo, I think about this: http://www.journaldumauss.net/spip.php?article696. And when I wrote in early April, just before the crisis takes Greek dimensions we know, when reality had caught up with my fiction in a sprint just amazing.\n\nThen Eminem in the ears (when I'm gone \") - not the best way to get to sleep, I agree - I echo the\" just take another pill. \" And the question that torments me is wrong: what will it happen when the hard decisions will come to reduce the debt? And the value of assets will - suddenly, it goes without saying - to shrink by 30, 40, 50% - said that better? In short, when the market is price establish the truth ... off the pill EPO accommodative monetary policy that floods the world of liquidity since the Clinton era - and Greenspan, so proper staggering after the collapse of Lehman Brothers.\n\nIt finally takes the anxiety in the throat. It appears that growth makes them happy, and that stagnation is experienced as a loss, and feeds the despair when thinking of a brutal destruction of the rich heritage of their perceived by individuals who had forgotten they were first owners ... their debts?\n\nObviously, this is so new that the panic is around the corner in a well-oiled mechanism: higher interest rates, the collapse of the creditworthiness of borrowers and higher monthly payments for floating rate borrowings. Everyone will want to limit the damage, save his capital gain, fueling the spiral of disaster. And here is another example of abuse of trust characterized, one more. And this time, the bill could be really, really salty. So yes, who we kidding, when you think just the fact that such information comes the same week that the results of stress tests of banks in Europe have been published. Yes, that we kidding?\n\nIn the meantime, \"just take another pill\" because, unfortunately, confirms the news every day, tomorrow is another day, but the perennial simple \"back to the future\". And I choose another beautiful formula of Raymond Aron to feed my meditations while waiting for sleep: \"The man is a rational being, but men are they?\".\n\nAugust 3, 2010\n\n\"Who clears the table?\" - Reflections on the news of \"family business\"\n\nCase study example I love to take my first-year students: Mom, Dad and their three children finish dinner. Question: Who clears the table?\n\nStudent's response Fayol: careful planning should be developed by the head for each day of the week remains therefore only to monitor performance, reward may from time to time, and especially punishing for failure compliance. It should come to anyone to challenge (the chief said!). Fearing reprisals, the child concerned ruminating (in silence) and runs. This option usually works well until adolescence, after that may become more complicated and less subsided evenings ...\n\nStudent's response Coase, more subtle: Auction of the task. OK, so we give one euro to rid the child. Results: The parents are happy: 1 euro to rest without drama after a long day of work, this is small price to pay. Nobody wants to one euro? Well, 1.50? Still nobody? OK, so I'm (= I deale as \"employee\" Mom) and I keep the money. Funny one stroke, the children fight to rid. Magic of the market, when you hold us ... Freedom of the merchant agreement, therefore, rather than authoritarian coercion, well seen. Of course, to agree on the price and then takes time - thank you students Williamson - monitor compliance with the contract as well. A kid can indeed always be tempted by expediency! Another problem in adolescence, the discussion on the tariff can begin to drag on, especially if children think to point that there is indeed a table away, but also to store towels, cleaning a table and wipe, etc.. And yet we did not discuss the possible dishes to do ... In short, it will become costly and response fayolienne could then regain its relevance.\n\nStudent's response Mauss, more subtle: the kids to wrestle away thanking their mom (or dad) to have prepared the dinner. They are clever because they know they thus earn the right, in return, to 5 minutes more before going to bed and a nice bedtime story. As a teenager, that sort of joke eventually transform parents taxi drivers, but no doubt, the threefold obligation of giving-receiving-making march full.\n\nWhy this small example?\n\nBecause if the management sciences are the sciences of the allocation and coordination of property rights dismembered - thank you Jensen and Meckling students - then the family is probably the best way to examine and understand the issues. The family is it not, indeed, the place where relationships can not precisely be understood through the prism of grammar since there are economic in nature, first from the (parental) and the gift / gift-cons, especially in intergenerational relations.\n\nThey retort that the family, as opposed to other forms of collective action, this singularity which prohibit think it could be a subject of discussion relevant to management science: it is essentially \"natural\" as opposed to what the artificial form, for example, the company and is not finalized, since it can not a priori to have no other aim than that, Spinoza, to \"persevere in its being\". Indeed, research in management, when she became interested in the family has always chosen the subject of the family business and its possible features. In doing so, has been largely trapped in a reading in the form of coercion, dear to the student Fayol, pointing particularly to the pressure exerted by the \"clan\", the common culture, leading to spontaneous acrrue efficiency. Besides that we could point that the family business is a place, too, disputes, several factors justify pushing much further consideration.\n\nRarely has the news because all currently highlighted relations between worlds inbred domestic, commercial, industrial, civic to use forms developed by Boltanski and Thevenot: Business Fouquet's estate ambitions of the President's son Republic, settling of scores worthy of a bad B among U.S. members of the board of one of the largest French companies (case Bettencourt Bettencourt cons), the Ministers suspected of breach of trust for a couple of benefits (Case Woerth-Bettencourt), not to mention divorces and (re) marriages are the heyday of newspapers \"people\". Yes, this provides a little turnstiles to the researcher, and in any case, considering that the family falls within a confined space and boundaries are well identified did not withstand the test of reality. So, since it invests and public space, they manage the repeated crises, to use all the springs of marketing and communication to achieve this, we can reasonably assume that the family should become the subject of scrutiny?\n\nBut there is also a deeper reason: and if in reality the family as a form of organization, in its principle of organization, coordination, facilitation was not a limiting form, marginal, but form reference management? And if, after all, she had always been? And if after all, management - techniques - had only followed the developments which have always taken shape, first in family relationships and still bears the stamp of the triptych of three forms of human exchange: constraint, the price and the gift - thank you Perroux student?\n\nIf this problem intuition is correct, then one would expect nothing less than to give thought to the economic market place should always have been his, as a special case of encounters between agents whose property rights have been artificially Remembrance - Rid the table and you have a right (selfish) to use, and profit on sale of 1.5 euros. Artificially: the big word dear to Herbert Simon is released. Any action policy should then be reassessed and reevaluated in light of this trilogy - and the news media agenda of the presidential and \"business\" courses may give food for thought!\n\nAmong them, instructions carried out with the legal interpretation chart Family \"who clears the table?\", Including the student's response Mauss, could lead to some interesting examples of case law and lead to some surprises for the assessment that should be (managerial) to the concept of \"suspicion of conflict of interest.\" After all, the suspicion of opportunism did not he won the Nobel Prize in Economics in 2009 the student Williamson?\n\nAugust 4, 2010\n\nFrom the autonomy of french universities to the independence of french academics\n\nUniversity professor, like many of my academic colleagues, I finally decide. So I opened a blog for a few weeks.\n\nI want what I consider to be a \"newspaper\". I write tickets \"on the fly\", I try to reformulate the problems, I put online publications, I use certain media to feed my classes. Over time, therefore, emerges under the guise of an academic on the passing world. The dates, titles, reasons for publication of articles and pages are there to remind me.\n\nKeep a journal, the idea is not new. It has basically nothing original. But when it is held by a university professor, specialist in addition to management science, \"that perhaps deserves a little more explanation. There are three, which answer and justify this project which is now part of my business.\n\nFirst, it is a research project. The idea here is the daughter of a conviction that management may have something to say about social issues and contributions to make to public debate. I hear this show. It is indeed constantly confront reality and theory, to organize the dialogue and eventually the battle. Nothing less. And to see if new technologies can be in this area useful.\n\nThen there is an educational project sharing. How many students, how many teachers have felt at times that things were happening in the classrooms, the production of new knowledge? I have long recorded at the end of the course these \"productions\" in notebooks. I've rediscovered some months or years later, covered and buried under the mountain to treat emergencies. With such a journal, taking over the water, I hope so, over time, to bring out some new ideas of the enclosure of four walls in which they were created. Making them available in real time outside the walls and maintain, through shared-memory.\n\nOutside the walls ... It is precisely the third reason for this newspaper. An ethical reasoning. So, how many academics have had to respond to public curious about their use of time: you work tomorrow? Or again, but tell me, how many hours per week do you teach? And the University address, usually a little embarrassed, that \"it's more complicated than that ...\". This \"blog / journal\" aims to share, so of course completely subjective, a part of this \"it's more complicated than that ...\", what makes the daily life of a university. In my case, a university professor who has always attached great importance to this plural in its title. And that has always had a certain idea of what to strive to build its future academic means.\n\nOf course, this project is not without limits and we can discuss the relevance. Thus, this \"diary\" is not, for example, fully \"transparent.\" Indeed, it is excluded from them reveal things not to be: the jury deliberations, diplomas, selection committees and colleagues, reporting thesis reviews articles for academic journals, etc. . One could multiply the examples of these tasks, typically described as administrative, that are inherent to the \"status\" of mine: all control the privacy and occupy a certain time in the academic year. All must be ignored.\n\nSimilarly, the inspiration - and thus publications - are irregular. They depend on the time left free to delve in-depth articles, to renew a heart of skills that always needs to rest a thousand problems before finding one that is (perhaps) worth being shared .\n\nFinally, some may see in this newspaper a distraction in terms of count one thing: as many items as possible, as often as possible in the best international journals. Understood: Anglo-Saxon.\n\nYet I see, personally, a project of much higher importance: nothing less than to participate in the learning of young and old alike, to sharpen the critics, to lead public debate with my (meager) means and the top of my (little) expertise. This is one of the ways that I've chosen for the act of production that justifies the Company do me the honor to pay me to think.\n\nThen, of course, I understand the logic of a President self-proclaimed \"super-manager\" who would, at first I reduced to the status of employee of my university, and this, although I teach that in our world heritage, management as our President so his principles - objectives constantly reformulated, focusing solely on results, zapping managerial - is invalidated in its efficacy, with great regularity since the late 1980s by all the work serious research.\n\nI also understand the political interest it would be to see the university as being obsessed with results that could qualify to obtain a prime scientific excellence \", or else be interested only management \"means,\" the budget of the organization (independent) they are now, first, a kind of employees.\n\nBut whatever some with this newspaper, with ideas (managerial) criticism that vehicle - and will continue to convey - including vis-à-vis how those in power exercising its discretion, I hope to live up to our great Constitution. The Sages of the Constitution where the Constitutional Council will recall, Friday, August 6, it is demanding in terms of the independence I have to show.\n\nThis should serve, first, knowledge of its (re) creation, is shared. It must be in support of critical thinking and collective culture. In short, it has no objective other than to be in favor of a democracy is not based solely on the desire to maximize the \"performance\" as high as possible, as quickly as possible.\n\nWith hindsight, this opinion will make the Sages of the Constitutional Council published, I am sure all the wiser that a number of scandals (financial and managerial) have demonstrated over the past ten years, the dictatorship accommodates the result too often hidden defects. First and foremost, they have all been fueled by intolerance of actors orders vis-a-vis all forms of critical thinking.\n\nThus may this little \"newspaper\" to be modestly contribute to the height of this principle. And share with those who are not necessarily aware of the importance of academic courses, across all the speeches of demagogues and populists, protection in a democracy the independence of the University. This principle has a value. It is priceless, whatever the cost. It is the foundation of my status. And it is mainly those principles on which we can not safely deal.\n\nAugust 6, 2010\n\nIn defense of the shells ...\n\n\"I publish to stop correcting\"\n\nPaul Valery\n\nEveryone has probably experienced it countless times this experience unbearable: the \"shell\". Or perhaps I should say rather: the shells. These shells that mark a text (or email), even briefly. Because the idea is gone faster than writing. Because the head was already immersed in the following sentence when you wrote the previous. More simply still, because the fingers have ripped on the keyboard, this under the weight of the excitement of thinking that were believed valid.\n\nThe player usually thinks that the author would still have been read. That could have corrected. He laughs a little of the world. Then, the author, traumatized by the misadventures of the previous shells, and imagining a reader who discovered, spends his time to read, and reread again.\n\nProblem of reading and rereading: new ideas emerge, leading to revise phrases, to reformulate sentences, why not even change the dynamics of a paragraph. And that interfere, slyly, new shells. It is clear that the computing facilities of the \"copy paste\" does not help in this area that lead, endlessly, just to see, to wonder if that word would not be better here than there, if that paragraph is not more appropriately placed in seventh position rather than ninth ...\n\nAnd so, that faced with the shell, the authors fall into three categories:\n\n\\- First let rest, say they have yet to read after all the changes they have made, and finally recovering after the publication on which they have worked so hard, hoping they will not work again (but this does not fail, alas, to arrive);\n\n\\- The latter coming in, exhausted in advance to decide not to write, to live the nightmare of the \"shell\", sometimes not too severe (obvious typo), sometimes terrible (and if the reader thought that I 'I made a spelling error ??!!);\n\n\\- The third to say, after all, never mind if the shell is there, it stays there - the point is it not that the bottom is there, \"- and besides that the shell will be be overlooked.\n\nHaving published three subscriber in the World, which I discovered they were littered with shells, I realized that I would create a happy fourth category: those authors who do not care, or even are rather proud.\n\nFirst, because they have not been impressed by the risk of the shell, and do not be banned from writing to avoid, especially, to approach the feeling, horrible, ridiculous.\n\nThen, because they know that writing is much too serious and compelling to give more importance to it that these stories are nothing more than stories of ego rather comical.\n\nFinally, and importantly, because they plead guilty but not responsible: the Le Monde does not certify that it will be replayed reviews and validated before publication? I was wrong to believe and prefer to send three chronic imperfect in two days, rather than one for which I referred perfection. But it would seem that the race late and the maximization of benefit / cost ratio has been right up the good work that was called, in the past, the publishing trade. Indeed, I conclude that the newspaper industry is at its worst. This is good news for anyone.\n\nMy chronic subscriber in the world, in any case in this form, have been the first and last as it is now impossible to correct. To choose, I prefer the shape of the blog. For here, I can post first and then correct the faults. In this space of freedom, \"I publish to begin to correct,\" or even \"contradict me,\" to quote another great formula: the Baudelaire believed that this right should be included among the human rights.\n\nThen, finally, thank you for introducing me to the World reread my classics. They are good. And it confirms, once again, a good education management research: it is often more reasonable to act first and then understand.\n\nAugust 7, 2010\n\nFear, gasoline and symptoms of project failure (managerial) Sarkozyist\n\nFear Is a basic sense of human beings? Certainly. And just as certainly it is an object of investigation and research the most neglected by the sciences which are as yet proposed the conduct of the finalized collective action: management sciences.\n\nWhereas \"Sarkozyism\" is a project that continues to claim second - there is good management, based on performance in achieving the outcome - while playing with great regularity in this first sense, it is interesting to attempt to go beyond the observation that fear is fast in practice so ubiquitous that it would omniabsente in management theories, the problem certainly deserves a more careful inspection.\n\nFear of globalization, fear of loss of competitiveness, fear of job loss, fear of decommissioning, fear of others ... And then, of course, fear of death. The fears that are fractal objects, since they are at all levels in all areas and all times, whether institutional, organizational, and, of course, individual. And fear and its corollaries, or rather its reflection of loneliness and lack of confidence.\n\nSolitude, first: that rises and the first person who has never been afraid, and felt the immense pain of feeling unable to rely on oneself and the fear of not being able to exceed it. The loss of confidence, then, as fear always returns to a fear, a projection of unbearable pain that one can not say why but that paralyzes all, lack of confidence, of course, but also in the other, that other which simply to trust is a form of vulnerability because it assumes that its future is, if only for a small part, dependent on a (e) other.\n\nNothing but obvious in all this, will say it? Certainly. Nothing but the essentials? Absolutely, at a time when the fear and its corollaries, loneliness and loss of confidence are in various forms are the most characteristic and best shared, at least in our old Western societies. What do the scientific discourse, and especially managerial, this? Incorporating more human, consider the emotion. Yes, but why? But how? For what purpose? Serving what purpose? Acknowledge here, with the exception of marketing, perhaps - but in a rather distant and finally technology - a broad lack of thought that fear involves a managerial point of view: the loss of trust that paralyzes. Finally, this could be our old political economy that has advanced the most informative answers.\n\nWe forget how often and the Adam Smith's theory of moral sentiments of vanity was the mainspring of human actions. And if the market is a marvel, it is primarily because it can contain the individual vanities, which can always degenerate into a war of all against all. The victory of liberalism has undoubtedly institutionalized the relationship between men, based on reciprocal compensation between individual owners of things. Fear to be driving while the famous confrontation of private interests which emerges as if by magic, in theory, the price for the exchange. This may for a time, although calm angst. That is now in crisis in the project \"Sarkozyist. Three ways.\n\n1. \"Work more to earn more and consume more .... Underlying the process of the sacrificial victim, Rene Girard has modeled perfectly logical mimetic desire that underlies the spiritual consolation to the act of market exchange. This logic of power and healing was found at once sursollicitée tirelessly over the past two years while the technological conditions that they be allowed a continuous basis. All you can eat, all you can buy ... Certainly, the fear, so fear is still there: whether to give children what they want for fear of not being loved or having afraid to miss the bargain. The abuses are numerous. Obesity and middle classes of Western societies that run the balances on the net or in stores when the meal 1500 calories taken at MacDonalds. This constant search for calming fear leads, we know all too well, addictive behaviors, to a succession of phases of euphoria and depression are constantly fed by ever more aggressive marketing strategies and aggressive. The irony is that while too play with fire and fleeing into the consumerist illusion, the actors of globalization-tech market took the risk of sawing off the branch on which they established their power. Having formulated as unsurpassable horizon material growth alone, the battle for the conquest of property rights and a determination to defend them against all alone, the project won the 2007 election has taken the risk of a terrible backlash when the illusion would vanish.\n\n2. \"The tyranny of the sanction of the result.\" In 2007, it is reassuring, saying he would finally be a pilot in the aircraft, the ultra-rich, more and more, always had a vision, they were surdédommagés to reason, because that the world was very complex and that we had to accept that, to confront this complexity and protect us, they had to overpay. It was mostly (re) come to us. Especially. But that was before. Before the summer of 2007 and September 2008. Before we see that in our interconnected world, some are above the law because they suffer no penalty for end market (banks). They are \"too big to fail\". Or \"too high to bear, since they bear the so-called success (autonomy of universities), but have nothing to do in chess (\" the fault of the crisis, pauv'cons \"). So much the worse for \"growth with teeth.\"\n\n3 - \"The guilt of the performance.\" We know the logic of endless race after the performance: hard, return to individual responsibility for his actions lead him constantly in fear of not being efficient, prompt it to always be (re) drive forward to (re) construct its potential by inviting him to consider that the past is worthless because the only time to count. The logic has been completely dismantled by Richard Sennett. Note, however, how are (on) played now ancestral fears (\"overseas\") to regain control of the media agenda, and this with a solution (illusory) turnkey, of course. There may well overshadow the \"business\" as the obvious failings in light of the stated objectives behind - and that is still surprised that anyone could seriously think they could be achieved. And it also noted, more fundamentally, the astonishing paradox that being elected for five years, is by nature get out of the penalty system in the foundation of the ideology that is claimed.\n\nThe project was displayed in 2007 that a society based primarily on the fear and mistrust, feelings are intimately linked to a fear of others, in all its forms and to safeguard his individual interests, when referring tirelessly to the individual ego issues, for better or for worse.\n\nYou may not share this philosophy has merit, however it is consistent, and the results of democratic elections: respect the choice of many. But always call market ideology, as an engine of its actions, justification and legitimacy, without applying it to oneself, to say the least, the first principle, this is a very strange way of be exemplary. And count on a certain tendency to amnesia to continue, there is obviously a good short-term calculations (see IFOP poll on what measures would be acclaimed by the French) but could be dangerous in the medium / long term (see editorial in the New York Times).\n\nIn all cases, management sciences bear an ethical responsibility singular mind relentlessly leaders to their commitments and their results, and what the long term. For the exemplary only, held on this long term, creates the real confidence. No posturing tactics, stoking fears according to the interests and calculations of short-termist, and which are basically nothing more than an expression of helplessness ... managerial.\n\nAugust 9, 2010\n\nCreating Memories ...\n\nThe holidays are usually the time where you can indulge in some recreation leaving the nose sections of the handlebar \"scientific\". We took advantage of a few books to read while lighter, and indulge in some beach reading.\n\nI put this year three out of a suitcase, on loan from two friends with very different profiles. After having closed, here's how I think they are going to feed my classes this year, and some explanation of the reasons that will lead me to integrate them, for various reasons, in my bibliography for more complex (some) patterns mental students.\n\nThe first book I was loaned by an accomplice of some fiery exchanges tennis. Last December, he brought me so before a little \"game\" the biography of Andre Agassi, \"Open\" (Plon, 2009). That was several months she was lying on my shelf. And I confess that I was reluctant to plunge into, knowing that all I would probably never occurred to me to buy it.\n\nI did hear some echoes both banal and intriguing: the father's dreams projected onto his son, training to exhaustion since the age of three, taken drugs ... later. I saw everyone ciomme first few good reasons to orchestrate the marketing buzz. But some reactions were strong, and it seemed to go a little further. And above all, six months loan, now it was quite sufficient. It was therefore necessary to take the summer to read it ... and make.\n\nTo say I was pleasantly surprised would be an understatement. There are flashes in this book worthy of a true strategist and best shape, a few \"examples\" of famous reflections on the essence of the paradoxical strategy and life, a few well-chosen formulas to share a conviction that is, for me, profound: the futility and the illusion of any hint of control beyond reasonable. Andre Agassi will probably not know, but it resembles that of the Chinese thought of the strategy (see the work of F. Jullien), we, researchers, operate far too little to renew frameworks of thought which would Yet as needed.\n\nFinally, the book closed, I thought we could certainly make him the usual criticisms: the transition to the industry \"business courts\" that Agassi was one of the most striking icons is largely ignored even if it transpires in some places. Equally, the biography does not resist the irresistible attraction of the American happy ending, even if it is here rather clever.\n\nMost importantly, I think I disagree with those critics who needed evidence. So, are evoked the anguish, tears, separation, pain, reconstruction, stops, despair, restarts, the reconquest, the euphoria, exhaustion, fear, despondency, withdrawals, redemptions .. .. and this, without ever falling into the AUO-contemplation. The challenge was for the least risky. All without talking about physical changes, properly astounding that our friend does not hesitate to mention, disassemble, diagnose. It is a rare intelligence and integrity in this beautiful sir. So much so that one sometimes wonders if he did not go looking for inspiration in \"Bad Lieutenant\" Abel Ferrara masterfully H. Keitel ...\n\nIf this book will remain the highlight of my three summer reading, but also because of its substantive problem: the share and to give up control and mastery in life. Tennis is in fact repeatedly called as a parable of life and can actually see some of the themes that occupy the professors of strategy or management control. Objectives and the shameless performance meet each shot, the uncertainty of other options that could be tried, and what each bullet, as forms of \"routinization\" and mental \"momentum\" where everything decides. And then there are the projects that meet the project-cons on the other. The other, ubiquitous simultaneously opponent and partner, who is always there, he called Connors Enroe Mac, Wilander, Sampras or the \"Poor Becker (whose ears hiss in many places). The alternative that we see and reach the top down, as they have been affected yourself ... before falling ... back then ... and down.\n\nAnd then, of course, remain etched these match points, he has only to win, you win sometimes, but we also lost, before losing the match itself, even though it was certain to have won. As these few bursts, data at the right time, in some decisive seventh game of the third or fifth rounds, the points that we ended up losing but we know they will bring the victory they have exhausted an opponent already tired. In short, tennis is a game, watched Agassi appears constantly in his non-linear dynamics (ah, the smoke cigars during a game, which at once paralyzed).\n\nThe man is as outsized as was the player. It is mainly a reflection of this beautiful passage from Kipling's poem: \"... if you can meet with triumph after defeat, and receive both liars an even front ...\". The book is certainly a rare and remarkable testimony. To put all hands, and particularly those of the \"managers\" who know no other words than performance.\n\nSecond novel were: \"How I wound up the century\" Flora Vasseur (Editions of Ecuador). As we do not duplicate, even on vacation, another friend \\- to my knowledge does not practice it, the courts - has slipped on my shelf this little book, obviously surprised that I would not be thrown over upon release . And as the \"open\", I left the \"novel\" slop lazily on my shelf for a few weeks. It must be said that I had better things to do than read a novel about one of my favorite research subjects since at least 2005. And then, without knowing why, I think he intrigued me.\n\nI started reading my holiday with him and soon I was amazed. This Madame Vasseur first that I deserve is suing him for \"plagiarism by anticipation\" in two respects: First, I have long cherished project of a novel that some of the popularization of research results into management - and finance - and who would thus play a few of the established genres, then, and especially, that Madame Vasseur was literally stung a few sentences that trailed in early writings. It's been quite a lot for a single lady ...\n\nBeyond the joke, the novel is remarkable. The refinement, reliability, style of writing make it captivating in every respect. Unable to discard, once entered into the dance. I must say that I was a player won ahead in view of the topic and all topics (trading rooms, the désencastrement finance over the real, widespread liquefaction processes, the haunting despair our affluent traders who have finally been the right men at the right place, that is to say, \"externalities\" of the dematerialisation of exchanges, to globalization, monetary policy of the Fed since the mid 1990s and the current displacement of the barycentre to Asia ... The human dimension naturally makes all this very lively, if not compelling.\n\nAnd then, with hindsight, two regrets anyway. The first is that it perhaps lacks the novel, the research funds that would have given him a whole other dimension and where I personally am curious to know the feeling of the author. The second corollary of the first, they are shortcuts, amalgam, some facilities - from the anorexia of the girl, through prostitution as commodification of the body that eventually leave the poorest in our capitalist society atrocious amoral together until the final redemption of the narrator.\n\nAnd I came away from this reading with a very personal question: Are these regrets deeply embedded in the novel form chosen by the author? If such is the case, it would perhaps explain that I decided, in advance, to abandon this project that I fed it some fifteen years ago already for him to prefer the horrors and risks of research and therefore PhD. In which case, I congratulate my choices: First, I would certainly not have the writing talent of Flora Vasseur then I feel I now have less certainty - and therefore a little no hope - that Flore Vasseur seems to me sometimes be.\n\nIn all cases, no remorse or regret for this summer event: the lady is always important to do things and I'll follow closely, and then his qualities are endless as I understand, from surfing the web, we shared common disinterest for the work of our new National dandy, Frederic Beigbeder.\n\nI turn now to the third holiday memories, slipped into my bag just before takeoff by the same friend who made me ill intentioned live the liquidation of the century: \"House and Philosophy - Everybody Lies\" edited by Henry Jacoby ( Blackwell). And I plead guilty immediately ignorance: I did not know the existence of this \"Blackwell Philosophy and Pop Culture Series.\n\nI admit I felt a certain satisfaction in thinking that the turning of an article published in our venerable French Review of Management, in a folder called \"balance finance and management\", I managed to slip a reference the Doctor played by Hugh Laurie try to get the message: that's what this damn diagnosis activity here and how it differs from the traditional analysis, which only delivers comments. This \"reference\" in writing was also due to some mobilizations during my course of episodes that I found that, after the surprise moment, it obviously aroused strong interest among students and presented a real virtue didactic.\n\nHowever, I am not sure that I will try to read the very short term the \"Batman & philosphy\" or the \"Simpson's & Philosophy\". Not that the book is bad, but I'm looking a little - and humbly - to the \"philosophy\" and I finally had the sense not to learn much. I am a little bored, except for the excitement of the introduction and interest in the topics of some chapters (\"Is There a Daoist in the house?\" For example). But almost all the titles of chapters, however, pulled a big smile ... such as biographies of the authors.\n\nAnd I think finally know why I was disappointed. The authors have clearly and deliberately, not closer to writers. They are thus missed out on the essential dimension of the series: a wonderful \"lesson\" of strategy, management, control. Because it is ultimately the management concepts that are missing from the book and make it so interesting series: identity, learning (individual and organizational) change and resistance, structures, behaviors, representations, rationality procedural with differential diagnoses, authority relations so complex in a professional bureaucracy, the tensions between expertise and authority, etc..). And then, of course, the fact that the series is, first, an extraordinary support to explain the difficulty and the art of diagnosis.\n\nAll this is finally tackled too disembodied, where it is. And it is actually quite rare. So I get out of this holiday with some ideas, including one on which I quickly put a copyright: the project is undoubtedly true in the design of a book to be entitled \"House & Management \\- Nobody changes\". I will quickly talk about some of my colleagues who would, I think, see an interest.\n\nP.S.: Thanks to F.H. and H.C.\n\nAugust 12, 2010\n\n\"The words and forms\" - Reflections on the paradox of \"presents\"\n\nI acknowledge the comments of Pierre Dubois, who writes a blog that I took a taste for several months - and I thank him without delay whether to read this letter. His action does not fail, in fact, generate, I am sure, many visits. I am delighted that the very fine article by Prof. Debeauvais know and echoes and have had the honor to participate in its dissemination.\n\nAs you now know if you browse the \"Articles\" on this blog, another text by Michel Debeauvais is online and a number of questions, designed to bring about exchanges and discussions. I will try to make my contribution to the future. Having, however, for the moment engaged in the development of chronic or texts on other topics, I prefer not too scatter me not to risk, not to tell that the trivialities that would not be worthy of the \"present\" and sent to me and entrusted for distribution.\n\nI therefore come under this \"ticket\", which builds on a nod to Michel Foucault to discuss \"the paradox of\" present \".\n\nThis blog, quickly opened many there are, I think, a year, was originally a simple personal page. A kind of CV improved.\n\nBy discovering, \"walking\", the trade potential that contains the Web 2.0 tool, I quickly turned into a teaching tool: it was, first, to put online a few links to make it accessible to my students references which I was requested. Gradually, I added some \"podcasts\" that I used to use in my classes (such as speeches or S. Jobs this wonderful material that is \"big talks of Paris Dauphine) .\n\nAnd then, little by little, the consultation of many fine blogs as diverse as those of Pierre Dubois and Paul Jorion, coupled with a visceral dissatisfaction regarding traditional methods of publication in my field, management, ended up my mind. Not, initially, for a Change \"blog\", but for different publications that would publish \"real time\".\n\nSo I embarked on a project, the project \"hyperbooks\" ripper that you can click on the tab in question. This allowed me to upload a manuscript that continues to toil to find which editor and I sweated for many months (euphemism). This manuscript was \"technoscience introduction to management\", which I give you below, and of course made \"anonymous\", a response received from a publisher who will give an idea about the reception he has known:\n\n\"Dear Sir,\n\nWe have received your e-mail and we appreciate the trust you place in us. We have reviewed your proposal with the greatest attention.\n\nDespite the quality of your work, we can not write your book in our publishing plan because even though it is very interesting and very high level, the sales potential is limited and does not return a paper edition .\n\nPlease accept, dear Sir, our sincere consideration.\n\nMs. XXXXXXX Assistant For the editorial board \"\n\nThe answer was probably legitimate. This project was perhaps unreasonable. I think that there are no fewer than twenty versions, very different. Then take the decision to publish the manuscript \"on line\" has finally released me, and it made me the most good.\n\nI could then work on another text, written during the holiday last April, and I put \"on line\" in the same way: Memoirs of Crisis (1): RAM - EXIT.\n\nAlain Caillé friendship made me read it and the honor of publishing this text very quickly on the site of the ongoing review of Mauss, wonderful complement to this wonderful magazine he directs with such elegance. So I continued the adventure. I have published, always \"on line\", the other two volumes of this series which only the future knows what they will - they must be something such as \"objects\" are at least a bit strange.\n\nWith the third book \"Operating System - Voice\" I discovered the potential of new technologies. I therefore, a time, put \"on line\" on this blog with additional videos, inserted in the text. One time because I saw also the limit for the year could lead to a preference, ultimately, form over substance. I have therefore withdrawn. Such was the case, too, for a day or two I think, the second volume: \"ROM - Loyalty\".\n\nIn the end, these \"trial and error, and procrastination which they led, which decided the sequence of events. Because I was absolutely flabbergasted effects \"rack\" that allow the \"put on the public square\" without further consideration than trying to \"experience\" just for fun, just to see where they lead.\n\nAnd it's like this I saw the advantage to \"on-line publications that too often remain confidential and that I enjoyed the publication of information on several networks called\" social \".\n\nThe \"traffic statistics\" began to inform me that few people visit this blog - and I apologize here flatly with them for days spent testing several \"designs\" to conduct various tests and varied and even more so that they may still be others ...\n\nAnd then ... And then gradually released and questions about the future of traditional publishing in the \"review\", whose trials are so long, whose trade with the \"reviewers\" are sometimes so frustrating, I started to issue tickets mood about the world turning. I discovered that I could share some of my subscriptions through a few newspapers. I took interest and pleasure.\n\nI've seen mostly through experimenting with a profound conviction: the challenge of democratic and political science working conditions endogenous creating confidence in the face of uncertainty, management sciences. With all the ethical implications that entails, such as risk taking. So I continued.\n\nAnd I found that comments, often even encouragement, appeared. Some, from colleagues and friends, other people I do not know and that life may never give me the opportunity to meet. If I started to answer, I soon came to the conclusion that the most fun was simply to let these \"comments\" to live their own lives.\n\nAnd then there was this message from Prof. Debeauvais, inviting me to contact him. The consequences are well known now.\n\nThere were other, giving rise to exchange mails, criticism of some of these patterns in my publications, which will then in turn triggered - even (especially?) For criticism - some effects \"rack\". I did not expect so much and they could be the subject of upcoming publications on this blog when the author sees fit and he have me sent it wants to accomplish.\n\nBut the \"present\" by Prof. Michel Debeauvais was different, and like any \"present\" paradoxical.\n\nI was deeply touched and signs of interest and trust he has bestowed upon my little work, which'm (currently) a day, which does not last when the \"return\" will do its work. But I also measured, however, all the responsibility. For these \"present\" requires me.\n\nThe interest of the two texts he has sent questions posed in the mail that I published, logically arouse the interest of many. This therefore justifies the transformation of this blog in a space of exchange that greatly exceed the objectives I have this blog originally. The commentary reflects Pierre Dubois.\n\nSo, faced with this paradox inherent in these \"how to act?\n\nI leave the question nagging me since the receipt of mail from Michel Debeauvais. Should we return to more traditional practices, to simply participate in the running of a reflection - while participating - that was first and foremost devoted to the autonomy of universities? Or should maintain the original intent, which is a blog / journal enough staff, whose tickets are justified first by the idea that crosses at a time, the spirit, by the news Inconvenient and itch, the desire to share, beyond the classroom and traditional academic journals - which does not agree - some inspiration. And also, beyond belief, should we abandon the pleasure to know that I believe some work - not mine, of course, everyone else - and participating in their enjoyment of a wider audience.\n\nThe tone of this post shows that I chose the second option. I apologize in advance to those who would prefer that I retain the first. The invitation, however, is obviously always: if some wish to address contributions / responses to Michel Debeauvais, I will publish on receipt (jphdenis@free.fr)).\n\nIf I make this choice, also because I personally see an issue too important in this blog / journal and I do not want to waive for the moment, with its original intent. Therefore I will continue to maintain a high diversity in the productions.\n\nThis is about nothing less than to experiment, too, if new \"forms\" of action, thought, reflection, sharing, or \"transformation\" are thus made possible. \"Forms\" that my former supervisor, teacher and friend, Prof. Alain-Charles Martinet, judge they are at the root of my field of expertise, strategic thinking. For\n\n\"The form allows for the party to do under paradoxical strategy: general principles guide action necessarily contingent. For [...] it can be particularly careful not to miss the point and, according to Max Weber, to know what constellation impute a phenomenon (ideal-type). The shape is stable, invariant for a time, instructing the real. It is definitely an attractor, an operator of meaning, value, essentially heuristic.\n\nAs such, it does not exist is a set hollow to house the concrete (G. Durand). It works differently from the concept that defines, cutting, severed since polarized, agglomerates, attracts. It therefore has some flexibility while guiding spirit leaves the individual play, the uncertainty ... the imagination of the strategist. \"(Chapter\" Epistemology of the Strategy \", in Management Science and Epistemology, Oxford University Press, 1990, p. 228).\n\nDedicating this blog in one debate on university autonomy, do not feed as exchanges that will create the texts and questions of Au and Pr, it would take the risk of eventually being trapped in \"words and concepts, as powerful they are, on this topic alone.\n\nI prefer to continue to try to work this blog as a \"form\", perhaps inspiring to me and why not for others.\n\nConsidered together, the \"present\" by Prof. Debeauvais is the best encouragement that we can hope when we embarked on such \"adventures\" and \"experiences\".\n\nAnswer this short text on 'words and forms \"can be seen also as my first contribution to the issues it raises - how not to integrate the\" possible \"enabled by new technologies in our thoughts, both self- universities on the independence of universities?\n\nI understood your last post, dear Professor Debeauvais that across the years, we unite some attraction for the \"gay science\". Hopefully, by the ticket by the continuation of this project blog / journal, to show myself worthy of the trust you have placed in me by giving me some responsibility in the future of your productions. Just as I think you might find in the consultation blog in the future, some (good) surprises.\n\nAugust 13, 2010\n\nVariation on the topic : \"where do we go with the agency theory?\"\n\nAny person interested in the issue of corporate governance knows the role played by the positive theory of agency to investigate this subject. Similarly, it is known that all codes of good practice in corporate governance that have been produced over the last twenty years (reports Knob, Viénot, etc..) Inspired. As we know that this conceptual framework is the very principle of the Sarbanes-Oxley Act, drafted and adopted following the \"scandal Enron.\n\nCan be found in the following an excellent presentation of this conceptual framework, and what he owes to Michael Jensen: Charreaux G, \"Michael C. Jensen: the pioneer of corporate finance \"(in Mr. Albouy (ed.), The Great Authors in Finance, EMS Publishing, 2003). The author's website contains very detailed and impressive presentations, analysis and discussion of the positive theory of agency in general, its impact on management practices, and Jensen's work in particular.\n\nI now share an excerpt from a correspondence I had with several friends early in the academic year. I found that this extract deserved, perhaps, more widely, particularly for researchers interested in the topic of corporate governance. Happy reading.\n\n\"(...)\n\nSince few days, I walk on the net and I made some interesting experiments carried away with me sometimes hours late though.\n\nSo on Thursday I was walking on the SSRN network, and continuing to wonder why Jensen is at this point to work on integrity in his recent work, I was intrigued but this is Werner Erhard, presented as \"independent\", with which he now publishes and accompanying visibly in multiple locations (http://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=932255)?\n\nI confess my ignorance here and I am therefore directed to its website (http://www.wernererhard.com/).\n\nThen I am \"recovered\" (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Werner_Erhard) to discover the past for less sulfur John. P. Rosenberg, seminars EST (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Erhard_Seminars_Training), held until 1984 ... but obviously very reactivated today (http://www.threelawsofperformance.com/).\n\nIt is, indeed, reading between the lines: http://www.wernererhard.com/threelaws.html\n\nAnd I found that this gentleman is still featured prominently, with landmark education, in the \"files\" of a commission of inquiry on sects (http://www.info-sectes.ch/landmark- education.html).\n\nSo I listened to his interviews, at length, found here and there on youtube or elsewhere.\n\nI am reminded that coaching is booming.\n\nAnd then I took a little scared, simply. \"\n\nAugust 15, 2010\n\nCreating a new category.\n\nSome may have noticed that I posted and then withdrew two \"items\": one that calls the action pérsidentielle present, the other on \"new\" pyramid schemes, Ponzi. After having published, I decided to contradict a previous post (\"In defense of shells ...\") and thus subject them to this newspaper as chronic as I still enjoy both, although I sometimes rattle: The World .\n\nThis then prevents me from publishing these reviews on this blog, at least until they have been accepted or rejected. It's Sunday, and the response of the World will, I think, for Monday. So thank you to those who are directed to this blog to apologize for being wrong referrals. However they will be available soon. And thank you especially to see their interest.\n\nThese columns are worried about the news, and what theory coupled to some investigations and \"set link\" allows personal venture to decipher ... if nothing changes.\n\nWanted me now harness myself to a lighter note, dedicated to the \"future of the university\", wondering on the mobilization of expert academics. There is indeed some officials sometimes make me the honor of asking me to speak on topics of importance to their organizations or institutions, to seek my expertise so I would venture a few opinions. This was the case last week. I wanted to draw some lessons on \"expertise, advice and the academic\" and the comparisons between the \"sphere\" of the university and that which is in a class far too aggregated: that \"the company.\n\nI think that the weakness of this column may be off it is widely accepted that many academics spend a significant portion of their time to produce things for other institutions and organizations that the university which is attached to their ext. This column is also a way to begin to engage in debate with Prof. Debeauvais. But this column will wait a bit.\n\nBecause I'm immersed in reading since the incorrigible Pr Debeauvais sent me some new texts while accusing me of making constant reference to its title (\"Stop calling me Professor Debeauvais!\"). My answer has been that I am more familiar: the indiscipline prompted by respect. So, abandoning the \"title\" Professor of the mail exchanges, but keep them on this blog. In a world where everything would be, we must remind younger, dear Professor Debeauvais, the importance of certain \"titles\". It is my belief. Second way to begin to initiate debate on the \"future of the university '... who will question the concept of globalization seems to me that, in its most recent literature, but also from the \"memories of Vincennes,\" deserve to be questioned a bit more than it is. Naturally, this little \"side step\" concern, first and foremost, my discipline, the management sciences. I do not know if it would be for other fields of specialty ... But, again, this column will wait a bit.\n\nBecause these texts are first sent to me, the turning of \"attachments\". These dramatic lyricism. Some are still under development, but their publication is justified without waiting for the power they generate and the inspiration they generate, since the memories of the \"SLA\" interrupted through the memory of input resistance and camps, to memories of Avignon and Vilar.\n\nSince Pr Debeauvais suggested I consider them as free (re) production, so I do not \"resist\" not happy to share them by creating a category dedicated \"In memory (s )...\". At least that title does not suit him, what I know will not wait I'm sure, and in which case I disturb no qualms.\n\nThese texts taste first. They read and reread then, according to the affinities of each player, depending on the time required for each to penetrate the message. For this reason they will be put online gradually, rather than once (I program the publication each night at 20 pm, until Friday, August 20). This is to allow everyone the opportunity to take his time. And finally I only regret that my skills will allow me to better highlight that by publishing them as articles of this blog, which certainly does them no justice they deserve .\n\nYou will discover what is missing probably the most in our society today - cash, \"timeless\", quantophrène: the thickness of the memory that we have, more than ever, a huge need.\n\nPS: The evidence does not drag any control \"ticket\" or \"section\" of my hand until August 21. The texts mentioned at the beginning of this post will therefore be published Saturday, August 21.\n\nAugust 20, 2010\n\nIn search of \"new\" Pyramid Ponzi\n\nWe know the principle of Ponzi: in return for the windfall he made, one that affects the rivers of gold brought out by those entering the dance after him. It suffices to learn to wait a bit to get his jackpot. The principle is thus based on a double confidence: first in that no one will panic at the idea of being the butt of the joke and ask, therefore resume its implementation before the pyramid has done its work, then in that the newcomers will agree to return to dance, play the same game, to feed the pyramid.\n\nEverything is so famous in this trust, as it is, can yield very large, a minimum of high to a ratio of 8 to 1. But this pyramid, if it collapses, may also lose a lot, and usually in a panic quite staggering. That's why over the pyramid grows, the more time passes, the greater the risk of actually being the butt of the joke grows: the stakes are increasingly high, the patient becoming shorter, the uncertainty less and less tolerable.\n\nIn the case of Madoff, it has been amazed that people are also deemed to be fooled by this scam, as old ... Ponzi. We, common mortals, we smiled at the thought that many great fortunes will be made as any Peking pluck means. This satisfies our little egos individual appeased our taste of revenge on the more \"affluent\". At the extreme, we thought there were any justice in this world, since even the most privileged could ripped off like idiots. But we, common mortals, we are incorrigible. Because we, common mortals, we're just idiots.\n\nHow, indeed, did we not think? How could we believe that so many people so rich, so smart, so well trained and would be fooled? For what we have forgotten is that all good people know that a true Ponzi beautiful mountain is nothing more than a form of private bank, which surrémunère the capital invested by its investors. Who can multiply the new arrivals, attracted by the desire to grab a piece of cake, and so turn lead into gold, by sheer force of its attraction. And the more one contemplates, high, those poor who have no access. Because everything in this system is based on the selection of members into and that is all thanks to the confidence in the mechanism of co-option: Each entrant must bring two others who should get two others, etc.. And this with the sole principle to surrémunérer in polite company, safe from prying eyes, and - why not - to the tax.\n\nTherefore, rejoice before the scandal, which always happens at the end, it could also take his hat to this great invention that reduces the risk by playing on the trust and can afford to amass fortunes. The scams and scandals of small pyramids area, led by individuals who have never had either physical capital or cultural capital or financial capital to support its basic logic - the pyramid collapses when fast - are only small shrubs that hide the forest.\n\nThe real beautiful pyramids have always existed and will always exist. Moreover, the current outbreak of Apple stock, the incredible rise in real estate since the late 1990s, excess profits related to subprime before the fall of 2007 (to join the dance people can not afford the a priori what a beautiful pyramid pushed to the extreme) are the best evidence. And it should be noted that without the panic of 2007, B. Madoff sink now a happy holiday on his yacht, and its customers well. This game can be very positive-sum when everyone believes, but it becomes very negative sum when everybody panic.\n\nThe creation of a rating agency of China, which was quick to degrade the notes of the United States, Great Britain and France is the worst news that could happen to all the ponzi schemes that exist today in world. Because what did not understand China is that it is not transparent \\- unlike what we want - but the illusion that the reactor is the heart of growth in a market economy . Financial instruments are all based in fact, solely on trust. And in this area, it is to little.\n\nSo add a dash of pessimism about employment and growth in America, a hint of concern of the Fed ... You will have gathered all the ingredients for the cocktail explodes to the 30s again to FIG. Except that at the time, our grandfathers never imagined that one day could Hiroshima ... So glad I conclude this letter by writing that, for the first time, really, I have my research wrong.\n\nAugust 21, 2010\n\nMr. President, will you join me a few lessons of \"garagism\" ... ?\n\nThe French president was roundly criticized, even across the Atlantic for his speech at Grenoble, which followed the \"business\" for headline for several weeks.\n\nThe philosopher Benard-Henri Levy has seen in the action of the President of the Republic that prompted three errors to be corrected quickly. I thought I read here and there that some people in the entourage of the president, would consider his analysis of surveys which invalidated by his observations unconditional acceptance of French and his recent actions he proposes engage in September.\n\nI am not a philosopher. I have neither the wit nor the pen, nor the intelligence to point out the errors that might have occurred. I am a specialist in management sciences. Those sciences that I personally wish to be close up of the economy of \"plumbers\" that is often referred to my colleague, Esther Duflo, Professor at College de France.\n\nThese sciences, which I also personally like to define the \"garagism\" in a globalized and dematerialized society ... that \"managerialisation\" always more. The science which I believe, still personally that they are planning to work conditions endogenous creation (and / or destruction) of confidence in the face of uncertainty.\n\nAnd, as a \"garagist\", I can not bring myself to the idea that our President would be satisfied with a few polls that he knows the technical limitations such as versatility in duration. But what I fear most is any recurrence of some of the mistakes that research in management science was highlighted with great regularity for twenty years.\n\nSeen from the window of the \"garage\" that I am, I first tried to salute, before anything else, the triple talent of our president. Ability to survive \"the wilderness\", first, that are the lot of the great destinies. Ability to defeat, then, as a trap to itself as the sole candidate in presidential elections; talent to overcome so many obstacles to reach, finally, that a majority of the French decide to give him the highest of missions: one to embody the hope in our common destiny, which is played today in the world. How this would have been possible without quelqu'courage, quelqu'obstination, quelqu'intelligence situations? Certainly, if one ignores all the disputes, all disputes, all disputes, one is forced to acknowledge that this would not have been possible. And it is these qualities that are celebrated by exemplary management sciences as creating conditions of trust, so important in the face of uncertainty and complexity.\n\nBut the same confidence is still fragile, still evolving, still rebuilding. It also has the great defect of assets very perverse effects, to return the greatest forces in huge weaknesses. And I recognize the difficulties in the recent action of the Presidency of the Republic, the number of knowledge that has been developed by my fellow managers in France and elsewhere in searches in contact with these fabulous \"garages\" that are the directions General world's leading companies.\n\nOur president is indeed an extremely interesting case study for a professor of \"strategic garage. We can thus see a definite potential in him to integrate the importance of the paradox. This paradox strategist Edward Luttwak says that is the essence of the strategy (did he not deemed incorporated some ministers \"left\" ...?). Similarly, its action is felt in ways \"best\" to play with the effects of \"tension\" and \"leverage\" (\"a new policy of civilization ...\") to try to bring about breakthrough innovations, according to the precepts made by that other great strategist what Professor Gary Hamel. Finally, judge - perhaps too quickly - that President Sarkozy is a victim of \"zapping\" managerial \"would ignore that one can read in its action as hyper behavior are advocated by Professor Richard d'Aveni : to attack relentlessly those of his opponents ... and possibly learn precipitate the destruction of its own competitive advantages.\n\nThese authors and their works have played key roles to inspire some of the most important managerial innovations that have marked the end of our millennium and the beginning of our new century. They have the disadvantage of sometimes contradictory, which may explain, in part, some of the current difficulties. But they largely share the same premise: our twenty-first century is the century of innovation, thus the knowledge and therefore confidence. In short, they see our world first as intangible and feel that this changes everything for the management.\n\nIf I do not know if the management literature cited feeds presidential action, I am however sure of one thing: the work of Harvard professor Robert Simons, the new \"star\" of the research community in management control, are necessarily unknown to the presidential palace.\n\nR. Simons has spurred a revolution starting from the same premise: the era of innovation and the intangible, the best way to \"control\" is to accept a certain \"letting go\" ... and thus a loss of control. This is the prerequisite for free initiatives and unforeseen actions not envisaged a priori, and generate real (r) evolutions, that is to say those nourrissennt the real future growth.\n\nIf this system has literally revolutionized research in management control, because it took the cons-up vision, traditional, another Harvard Professor, RN Anthony. This view that the control should be designed as \"the process by which managers ensure that resources are used efficiently and effectively in fulfilling the objectives of the organization.\" Against this view, Professor Simons had words (very) hard. His main criticism could be summarized in a formula: \"Keeping Things on Track? Stupid! \". Understood: innovate, invent and create something new, the vision of Anthony is only to maintain the known. It can be a carrier of that disillusionment.\n\nOne of the best lessons we can draw is that of Robert Simons is the effectiveness of the action on the duration of control (re) question constantly ideologies - the \"values\" and \"standards \"- which are driven at the highest level by those responsible.\n\nManagement research has indeed shown, and again with great regularity, that faced with uncertainty the probability of success increases significantly by being \"dialogy\" between contradictory poles called for by his vows and Prof. Simons for which a militant, and for so long, Edgar Morin. Are not they indeed the principle of \"new politics of civilization\" that holds the same Edgar Morin?\n\nAnd the same search just as surely teaches that the probability of success declines when turning the old certainties and martingales of the past is the way in which you hope to address outcomes that are struggling or slow. Enron, Polaroid, Vivendi Universal ... are all examples of strategic and managerial failures that have their heart in the principle of believing in the quest (illusory) to reproduce the recipes that have a time success. In this area, the disaster are endless.\n\nThe most famous is perhaps now that Alan Greenspan, former chairman of the Fed. Did he not acknowledged that his error has been essential for remaining a prisoner of his ideological belief in the ability of self-regulating market? We have paid a high price for this belief which became unreasonable and inefficient as it was fed balances. And yet we do at the beginning because the worse is, alas, to come. It would be good sometimes to think this beautiful form of Alexis de Tocqueville, the great \"garage\" if there is democracy in the Americas: \"The future, enlightened and honest judge but sometimes, alas, still too late \".\n\nWe advise so glad some nighttime visitors to consult the work of managers in the garage soon, not least when they go in search of keys to the success of the 2007 campaign of President Obama. For I know often the action of President Obama signs a perfect mastery of the management literature of the XXI century, which breaks through many respects with that of the twentieth. It is true that many of these major management researchers are of U.S. origin or nationality, many of them also come to us, one way or another, of the Harvard Business School.\n\nIt worries me so to think that our president could not to \"fight\" to weapons (managerial) equal. In sum, the American president would benefit from asymmetric managerial knowledge to his advantage. Or put another way, every time the two leaders meet, discuss and negotiate one with the tools (managerial) from the last century even though the other would comprise those of the XXI. \"The threat of deprivation of nationality\" cons \"a more perfect union\", search the error ...\n\nThe severity of the economic situation, the widespread distrust that has arisen in public opinion against all forms of authority, the situation is fraught with risks and dangers. The tragedies of history are there to remind them that they are still their best in climates harmful germs such as the one we know today. Because it feeds, first, the worst of renunciation. It is called despair.\n\nAugust 23, 2010\n\nOn Wall Street, \"Kerviel vs. SG, Wyser-Pratt vs. Lagardère ... - Some thoughts on teaching and research in management.\n\nWe must believe that creating a blog maintained \"active attention\" (the \"heed\") dear to the psycho-sociologist organization Weick KE. Thus I discovered the blog of Philip Mouricou.\n\nI was delighted to discover his work proposed a typology of competitive strategies of imitation at the Congress of AIMS, held in June. It happens that I host the session at which he presented the information. This paper has also won the Roland Calori Prize achievement \"young researcher\".\n\nIf I got \"accidentally\" on his blog, because I planned to write a post about the movie \"Wall Street\" by Oliver Stone. I wanted to explain why I consider this film as a teaching and research of primary interest to the teacher-researcher in management. Having entered the keywords \"wall street\" and \"management\" in a famous search engine, so I was immediately redirected to their site. And I discovered that we share a common interest in this issue, which, with hindsight, is not very surprising.\n\nThis is actually quite logical, since I share his interest in the work on the imitation as a way of responding to uncertainty - particularly the school known as \"conventionalist\", which are constantly taking their distance from the economic-theories financial mainstream. But I put everything on a flat: where some see mimetic rivalry dear Rene Girard keystone we fail, I for one have no doubt that the mainstream ... to finally put their hands dirty in the real and go further.\n\nThe real question for management science is to work on the origin of the dynamic creation of the \"agreement\" to use the term mobilized by the \"conventionalist\" point I still think it is the angle -death theory. In the aim is that of management science - helping the confrontation with uncertainty - should therefore not be fooled by the feeling that gives greater intelligibility of the mimetic theory ... except at the risk of falling in exactly the same across ideological than those we described.\n\nThis will doubtless seem a bit obscure to the reader not familiar with the theories I have mentioned. And this justifies all the more that I book my own mobilization of the movie Wall Street \"situated\" education and / or research: it is, I think, quite different from that generally proposed. This will then give me the opportunity again to express certain beliefs about what it means to teach and look in my field, management sciences.\n\nThe work already done by Dr. Mouricou allows me to enter directly into the heart of the matter without making the film without making it abstract, without explaining the main points: this is all very well in the note he proposes . And so I can ask directly: the movie \"Wall Street\" Oliver Stone is a tool of education (but also research) as rich as, ultimately, little (evil?) Operated by the Management Sciences ?\n\nFinally, two quick apology, Introductory before starting.\n\nThe first concerns the character can sometimes be confused by this \"ticket\", especially for a reader uninitiated in matters of corporate finance, strategy and governance. It is complex to develop since it is here to offer A / R between video clips and written, without possibility to insert snippets into the body text.\n\nSecond point: sorry, too, do not always go into detail, this to better focus on the essentials. But it is difficult to write more tickets but to turn this into a real article. This could be considered full-term but would be inconsistent with the temporality that I assign to this \"adventure\" of \"blog\". I will return to the meaning of this \"adventure\" in a \"ticket\" for the end of the week ...\n\nThe apology prior asked, I proceed in three stages:\n\n1 / I will comment first extract the most famous film, the discourse of G. Gekko before GA Teldar Paper, and in proposing a personal reading;\n\n2 / I then propose that this film is primarily a tool of remarkable introduction to two of the most fundamental concepts of management science, intertwined and difficult to teach: the identity and uncertainty.\n\n3 / Finally, we illustrate the current problems within the film to understand the context of the business in 2010 by taking two examples: the trial Kerviel SG vs. the one hand, the \"case\" Wyser-Pratte Lagardère vs. d other.\n\nI conclude by stopping on the implications for the management science of this \"replay\" that can make the movie Wall Street.\n\n1. Managers: forget \"Gekko\" and GA Teldar Paper?\n\nIf there is a \"thing\" in the collective unconscious generally, and especially managerial, film \"Wall Street\" which dates from 1987, is without doubt the words of Gordon Gekko (Michael Douglas) at the Annual General Teldar Paper.\n\nIt is here that the famous \"greed is good\" came out and it is defended with some mastery. This prompted the famous rat race \"greed\", as discussed since the implosion of subprime and elsewhere that haunts the beautiful introduction to the economy worries D. Cohen.\n\nThe thesis I will defend is, however, by the resumption of the relentless \"speech\", O. Stone has somehow transformed into Dr. Frankenstein where he wanted to withdraw, hindsight allows us to consider that this discourse draws on springs so powerful that he eventually served more the interests of the financial industry that it has not served (we will point elsewhere that this extract is the only film easily accessible on \"youtube\" it will be noted along with a special page is devoted to wikipedia ...).\n\nIt is true that, as has been described a thousand times, the rhetoric mobilized by Gekko worked just fine. Why the \"greed\" greed, would it not \"good\"? Is not the thesis of Adam Smith's theory of moral sentiments to which the vanity is the heart of the action of men? Make a flat then leads invariably to be taxed to the best of \"naive boy\" (you need to grow up!), At worst awful collectivist \"anti-market\" and therefore \"anti-freedom\". The alternative market is, in fact, be deemed a form of \"dictatorship\" should be an authority to allocate resources \"rare\" when, as one would reject the premise founder of a spontaneous market efficiency due to exercise by each of his \"greed\" individual?\n\nBut this speech too out of context to comment on relentlessly, taking it as a typical example of principal-agent problem dear to the positive theory of agency, I think it makes a big mistake \" no matter that they talk about me good or bad, as long as they talk about me ...\". That's about the frame that you can borrow a few unsavory politicians (to me) to explain it would probably be good to stop talking, without further ado that the termination , this speech Gekko. For escape from this logic, and the nature of the man behind it, is not so simple. And you can not sweep it, I think he, with a wave of his hand: the information asymmetry to their advantage did not she allowed unscrupulous leaders to make abuse \" dominant position \"real? Similarly, the shareholder is not it sometimes be right to bearer of relevant policy choices?\n\nUnable to evacuate reasonably definitively that speech and his strength, I generally begin my mobilization of the film \"experiencing\" a rather different way: it is to disassemble and analyze the art of destroying the confidence to take power.\n\nThis requires the instillation of the doubt. Note also the intensity and emotion set by G. Gekko to call the \"big old\", and its fall on this beautiful country so mismanaged that are the United States. The parallel with the close-ups on the faces of shareholders, moreover, offers a striking contrast which gives the feeling of actually being in the presence of a political rally, with some listeners may be somewhat influenced.\n\nThis, of course, is not disinterested once instilled doubt, then it is to \"reclaim\" the trust his own benefit, according to the well-known strategy in politics - or elsewhere - the \"pyromaniac firefighter.\" That is why I personally like the dish needed to discuss this speech is that of a private detective.\n\nImagine indeed a detective who successfully enter your home and you would somehow forced to listen:\n\n\"Do you, sir (madam), what your wife (x) when you're not behind him (her)? Hypothesis: nothing. Perfect. So move along, nothing to see there. Second hypothesis and if (s) cheated on you, perhaps for years? Imagine the consequences: you have every chance of being the \"fall guy\" if he takes the urge to leave one day. It (she) has in effect an obsession with the bankruptcy of your union, you can pluck the more under the Divorce. And what will become, in the latter case? What is your future, Once you made you (e) account you have been fooled (e)? None. It will do more than your eyes and cry that your confidence and have demonstrated such naivete.\n\nTherefore, I suggest you monitor your wife (s) for you, for free. Just instruct me that I am committed. Besides, what have you got to lose? And can you imagine that if there is nothing to find, then you will be reassured (e) and that this will be at no cost because my services are free. Conversely, if there is something to find, so be sure (e) that I find. And in this case, my earnings will be painless for you: just a commission on what you return as part of the divorce settlement and heritage of those years where you were, first, blanketed (e).\n\nThis is the essence of the speech Gekko. Playing on fear and the fear of being cheated constantly. At the point of forgetting the motives which have led to marry one day. This manipulative rhetoric is well known, from unscrupulous doctors, veterinarians from the unscrupulous with their fees from vendors \"professional\" car used a little too greedy: it's always exploit the fear of the spring and trust, and since the dawn of time, the spring can amass fortunes. It must be recognized however, that recent events have not been on this theme, sparing some new examples ...\n\nSo although the meaning of the problem of governance, at least as it was defined by the positive theory of agency. By applying the \"greed\", the logic of confidence must logically take precedence over that, so fragile, \"trust\". Declare that there is a problem perhaps, is in fact already cracking confidence by pointing the risks inherent in it (cheating, betrayal ...). And that's how we play on the desire of possession to evoke fear of the future, and here is how this ends up degenerating into actual \"possession\" for fear of being possessed. This leaves more than provide a turnkey solution: surveillance, at best - that is to say in theory - to discipline, at worst - that is to say very concretely in practice - to punish . The implication take control and liquidate.\n\nWe can give credit to researchers, from naive to have believed too much in their assumptions may be developed to support today that it has worked for the \"good\" (see this paper that fail in the future, I am sure to fuel some debate in our academic communities). Recognize also that they were not necessarily wrong, that progress in governance were certainly to do. And that this has not been useless, far from it.\n\nBut in the field of management science, researchers, especially when they claim to speak the truth and forget to provide arms for uses tools unsavory and very distant from their initial beliefs. The \"corporate governance\" Business has been used for many purposes other than those that serve researchers thought: to safeguard the interests of owners who want, first, to invest their savings or pay for university studies their children. It could indeed be exploited by \"practitioners\" unscrupulous who saw a way to play the spring of fear and fear, so familiar to political science - GA-Teldar Paper does it not also think of a furiously political rally, at the limit of the sermon (\"mark my words would you\")?\n\nOnce this has been stated, one can argue the following: no general theory is possible in the field of management and only a good dose of general knowledge, knowledge of a few \"battles past, epistemology and history of ideas can avoid the excesses that lead all the bewildering theories when they are handled by a few talented illusionists.\n\nWe can then suggest to take a step back compared to citations \"mechanical\" in the 1976 paper by Jensen and Meckling. It may also invite suspicion vis-à-vis any theory \"isms\", including when she posed as an alternative. This is not (just) a matter of principle or ideological conviction, rather to seek to raise the debate, and we entered the real issue: the introduction that allows the film O. Stone basic concepts of management \"strategic\" that are the identity and uncertainty.\n\n2. \"The sun rises well to the east\", \"Lead is much heavier than straw. Wall Street or a wonderful introduction to the identity, uncertainty ... and thus the art of performance management.\n\nThe film deserves to be seen and reviewed. It is a treasure of monologues, dialogues, verbal jousting. Like a good book, we must invite him to watch several times in its entirety, and then cut out in pieces \", to grasp the subtlety and potential. Rather than \"starting from the beginning\", then you can experience a walk through history in order to detect some other issues.\n\nThus, the presentations of the film they are usually young Bud Fox (Charlie Sheen) as a poor boy so naive, operated by the infamous Gordon Gekko. My reading is different: the meeting of Bud Fox and Gordon Gekko, is that of homo-strategicus face homo economicus-.\n\nI therefore consider that the real moment of the film must, it is this age-old question of the night time as there is the young \"Bud Fox\" Who I am? (See 1:08:55). The \"who I am?\", Which questions \"from whence it comes\" and \"where it goes\" is the best example I know of to pass this secret known to all managers: how strategy is first to want \"to watch them go\" to use a formula dear to François Dalle - former CEO of L'Oreal. And this question of identity in the face of uncertainty, is one that is central to the work that leads homo-strategicus.\n\nThe main weakness of the face strategicus homo economicus-homo is to be constantly (re) question about his future, not to consider evidence, therefore being constantly in a dynamic of surprise. This posture is bad, the source of psychic tension. Homo strategicus is always a prey could be overtaken by the need to find some certainties ...\n\nHowever, homo-economicus is not stingy with those certainties. He, in fact, a definitive answer to the question of uncertainty and identity: to maximize what we can gather. We hear in this regard with pleasure his morality, brilliantly summarized from 0:32:20 (\"Gekko car ride). And homo-strategicus note can only accede to big, very big (see the scene from the purchase of the apartment \"(1:04:52)).\n\nIf the advice of homo economicus can give the impression to the young Bud Fox to \"free\" because he needs it. To understand the tensions he saw, he must indeed go back to the early debates with his father, 0:09:15 (the bar with the father \"), then go straight to the scene of the\" scuffle elevator (1:25:02), especially without stopping before the end of the \"arguing in the street.\" You do not resist, however, to make a special mention in the words of father 1:24:45; result show that has, unfortunately for the young romantic Fox is not completely wrong (see rupture from domestic 1:35:19).\n\nThe moment the most informative and most of the film to potential lessons for strategic management is probably one where homo-strategicus attempts to reconcile the irreconcilable, water and fire, labor and capital . He thinks convincing Gekko to accompany the adventure (1:16:48 stage, \"the airplane\"), scene ends with the final formula of Gekko: \"The falcon has heard the falconer.\n\nIndeed, only remains for the \"hawk\" to cover the range of \"private investigator\" mentioned above to board, upon the next scene, the various unions ... then let the young boss \"Bud Fox\", promoted CEO, exposing his plan ... Strategic alliance between capital and labor.\n\nIt seems possible, all seem convinced, except ... the \"blue collar\" pointing \"bag of tricks\" of the financier (from 1:23:22) in an absolutely brilliant game between Michael Douglas and Martin Sheen, that one wonders if it was not written by JK Galbraith. While there is indeed, from the incompetence of the boy to the famous: \"I defend these shitty bosses against the loan sharks.\n\nWe know the fall of this adventure of the \"Blue Star\", staggering truth when it reads it in terms of conceptual frameworks that have invaded the discourse and management techniques for 20 years and helped bring about a Office of Management strictly legal and financial. We must therefore watch over and listen and listen, the entire scene of \"lawyers and bankers, heard that by which it begins\" a CEO, it knows nothing \"(1:28:28), and then enjoy the company's financial performance in action: transforming the solid in liquid, \"the Mexican aircraft, for fairly weak in will,\" sheds, soon turned into amusement park, and then this valuation under IFRS pushed to typewriters! Can we finally better illustrate the work, and long ago by Prof. Colasse to update the logic underlying the IAS-IFRS and the issue conceptually, if not political, they wear?\n\nThis \"battle\" of labor and capital is finally assumed forcefully monstrosity of cynicism and realism when Bud Fox asked Gordon Gekko accounts (1:31:12). Again, everything is there. Since \"the story of Bluebeard,\" \"the mistake of opening the forbidden door\", the \"it has very bad end.\" And this company, the blue star, \"damn, poor bell!\". This company it must recognize that we so often forget to tell our students in the course of strategy it can also be seen first, actually, like: heritage, always for settlement, to which some have their eye actors driven by \"greed\" and that for them nothing less than the alliance of law and financial science (\"law and economics\"), without any real strategic theory also to oppose it, at least for now .\n\nI reproduce below then a table, photographed at the end of a course on Wall Street, taking as its starting point the son, including Martin Sheen and Gordon Gekko - the work of one hand, the capital of the other - consider similarly it is a poor \"blind\". That certain something to remember.\n\nMany other elements of the screenplay and dialogues can lend again, in-depth discussion. In particular confrontation with Sir Larry Wydman incarnation of finance probably responsible idealized his character (it must provide the \"happy ending\" end ...) but it is our duty to bet still on the possibility. Is not this also where funding C. Bebear been calling with great constancy?\n\nAlso, and perhaps most importantly, the mobilization of Sun Tzu in two places. And this memorable monologue Gekko that we can not think about that too (from 0:29:49, scene of \"sauna\" and the \"wardrobe\") and is reproduced here from memory: \"The small shareholders is like dart players in the pub. I'm not a player darts at the pub. You know why fund managers are always bananer by the index values? Because they are sheep and sheep are cut. Read Sun Tzu, the art of war. To win the battle you do not need to fire the cannon.\n\nThe young Fox read Sun Tzu, and we deduce homo economicus-is, first, a strategist. It has furthermore the great advantage of having a predetermined purpose and not be based on the calculation, ever, means of achieving it (see, again, the \"one day it goes up, goes down one day ...\", the \"illusion grows more and more your desire to possess it grows,\" or the \"they fired a hat top hat and the audience applauds,\" the \"you do not think we live in democracy ...\", but the simplest is to listen to these countless pearls of the best scene of the film, from 1:31:12).\n\nThis leads to the conclusion that the strategist is by nature a political animal: the uncertainty of purpose and identity that we will eventually be assigned that is the essence of any strategy. The rest of the film, turning the happy ending of course, has the merit to finish the main protagonists behind bars after a turnaround very \"strategic\" young Fox, now at last, perhaps boss.\n\n3. In the context of 2010 and the news of a film of 1987.\n\nOne could argue that the movie date. That these issues have been seen and reviewed. They are old as the hills. In short, why bother to write this note to tell such trivialities? I do not think arguments in support.\n\n2010 has been an extraordinary year for an observer (a little) warned. This is due to at least two highlights.\n\nThe first is naturally the trial Kerviel. I'll let you judge the similarity between the film's hero, the young Bud Fox played by Charlie Sheen, and I invite immediately draw a parallel line of defense chosen by J. Kerviel and his lawyers - that could be summed up in this wonderful formula that would wind into the sails of the hierarchical relationships of trading rooms, \"Gagneux you've been good today\".\n\nTo get an accurate picture, then go to 8:30:00 p.m. and then follow the evolution of Bud Fox, the office assigned to the evolution of its relations with coworkers, how it eventually becomes the boss, he can buy an apartment \"cash\". I was a lawyer, in charge of its plaidoierie, I probably mentioned in the text, some passages of Gordon Gekko. I probably forced the courtroom to watch some clips from the film ... And I noted that in the film, the young \"Bud Fox (Charlie Sheen) ends up behind bars. But he knocked Gordon Gekko, too. But perhaps she did France import U.S. that what suited him, really.\n\nThe second highlight of this year 2010, the crusade led by financier Guy Wyser Pratte-cons group Lagardere. It gave me the opportunity to floor the second year students of \"Professional Master.\" I here the book about their year-end examination for the course Strategic Management:\n\n\"Subject:\n\nIn the late 1990s, the group Lagardere was present in three activities: Publishing, Military, Automotive. Its then leader, Jean-Luc Lagardere, the group defined as being present \"missals missile.\n\nYou are invited for an interview at the Directorate of Corporate Strategy group Lagardere, in the presence of Arnaud Lagardère, General Partner of Lagardère. The latter succeeded his father following the latter's sudden death occurred March 14, 2003 following a surgical operation.\n\nGiven your knowledge, you are asked to express your vision of issues facing the group and how it could seize it.\n\nWhat say you?\n\nP.J.: Excerpts from the newspaper \"Le Monde\"\n\n1. Lagardere announced strong results in fall LEMONDE.FR with AFP | 10.03.10 | 19h30\n\n2. Press and television: an end to dreams of \"acquisitions\", (edition of the World 27.03.10)\n\n3. \"The whole remains unclear about the strategy and the actual role of the boss of Lagardère\" (edition of the World 27.03.10)\n\n4. \"The\" cowboy \"Inconvenient Lagardère\" by Claire Gatinois (30.03.10 edition of the World) \"\n\nRespect copyright prohibits me from reproducing extracts that were used to support the work required but we will, as just reading the titles, they evoked. And, as an illustration, I can not resist reproducing the fall of the last proposed article in PJ:\n\n\"At Lagardère,\" it does not mean that the initiators of these rumors have ambitions stock short term. If this is the case, we'll know soon. \"Regardless of suspicions, Mr. Wyser-Pratte has fulfilled its mission: to shake what he calls\" capitalism with the Father.\n\nA \"job\" he loves since 1974. In forty years he has chained the raids with varying success, the U.S. First, France and Germany next. He has left an icing in the Taittinger Group, where he was largely the cause of disengagement from the founding family for the benefit of the American Starwood. \"I think that Anne-Claire (Taittinger) always wants me,\" he says amusingly.\n\nBut it is in the shoe manufacturer that Andre has most struck the minds, having launched in the direction: \"Wake up, or you'll smell the napalm!\". \"Since then, I realized we could not say anything, he had to behave in France. Do not make the\" cowboy \", he said.\n\nSunday, March 28, the cowboy went back to New York, his \"hometown\", after helping to push up over 4% per share Lagardère in a few days \"(from\" The \"cowboy\" Inconvenient Lagardère, \"by Claire Gatinois, article in the edition of the World 30.03.10).\n\nNothing really new, so, actually, in sunny management: the case Wyser-Pratte / Lagardère is nothing more than a way to rest the fundamental problem of governance as defined by the theory positive agency since the seminal article of Jensen and Meckling. And one can legitimately ask whether Wyser-Pratte operates differently from Gekko. But we are also compelled to recognize that the issues it raises and it raises the young CEO of the group are not without interest: the role and value of the group head, synergies between activities, whether certain transfers of Asset ... ability to carry on the legacy of a father, who was known for his vision.\n\nIn all cases, we can only admire the ability of reality to catch up with fiction, including 23 years later. And to think that the current CEO of Lagardère not benefit him, fatherly advice and other \"disputes elevator\" that can be sources of some exemplary councils. So perhaps consulting firms have supplemented this absence and it will leave the reader, as we let the students (the examination was held, from memory, in the first days of April), discovered after his stroke line defense and the outcome (Provisional) \"fight\" (cf. \"shareholders Lagardere refuse to elect the financier Guy Wyser-Pratte, Le Monde, dated April 27, 2010).\n\nBut if we dared, one is tempted to write that it was probably possible to do a little better by mobilizing good literature. If we dared, we do deliver a good 16/20 for the provision of consulting firms for nothing, finally, is resolved to \"restore confidence without recant\" - a problem that I have proposed by way of corrected ... Because we could certainly do better by mobilizing good literature and with a little imagination. Come on, let's be nice, we would have 16.5: there is still this wonderful find, \"in tennis, I prefer boxing.\n\nConclusion.\n\nSome concluding remarks ...\n\nThe first is that, at this stage, I feel regret not writing this post \"earlier. If he had found, J. Kerviel could have it read to his lawyers. It would have been helpful, I think he, to take and argue the line \"responsible but certainly not (only) culprit.\" I preferred to produce a \"plea for a new covenant.\" But the adventure of this blog makes me think that to speak off, take the risk out of traditional patterns of communication. Pity, therefore, not having had neither the idea nor the time, in full academic year, giving it a try.\n\nThe second is that researchers may need to stop, if only from time to time, the crazy logic of trying to rehash the same articles and still not to be obsessed quantophrène that the ranking of the \"stars\" (see article by G. Charreaux and Mr. Gervais). The unintelligibility that results from the mass of publications leaves no other choice, especially for younger children, but to fall back on certainties always the same without further ado and no discernment their citation rates ... That is probably not safe.\n\nThe third point will be lighter. When I mobilize this film as part of my classes, I like to finish by participating in the teasing Wall Street 2, \"Money never sleeps\". The film is scheduled for September and I will go quickly. Because I have some haste to discover how W Stone has managed to capture two major strategic developments that marked the 1990s and 2000s - globalization and dematerialization of trade \\- and all those avatars that we as teachers and researchers in strategy, talking to my opinion far too little: relocation, outsourcing, asset widespread relief, weight off-Blian, the rise of emerging markets, etc.. Failure of extracts from Wall Street to raise two for now, I'm just generally not open for debate this interesting excerpt from a broadcast on Saturday night (although I do not, one suspects, many other interventions columnist \"star\" which earned him some \"one\" of our day) ...\n\nThen I mention all those who appreciate the emission of L. Ruquier but I fear they did not appreciate the subtleties of speech and references ... nor, even, the approximations (but we're on TV, moreover on Saturday evening). Then I invite students to look at the labels of their clothes. They usually discover \"made in\" fairly exotic: \"china\", \"bangladesh\", and a few others ... I conclude by saying that, not understanding what is going on too, everyone prefers, on Saturday night, thinking about something else. A bit like the old lady who has listened politely Gordon Gekko's speech at the AGM of Teldar Paper and which will eventually vote on its proposed resolution.\n\nThe discussions are usually quite sharp, quite interesting. Once the course ended, I told myself that I was right. That teachers and researchers in management must, first, to help raise the public debate by helping to open eyes with their own weapons theoretical and epistemological. In short, their primary mission is to remake, really, finally, the strategy.\n\nAugust 25, 2010\n\nFrom autonomy to independence Universities Academics (2): Lessons from ...\n\nThere are books you read and those we have read and reread it, and then those that did not read and can not read without a doubt. I maintain a relationship with Michel Houellebecq's strange: it is one of the few authors whose writings are, in my personal library, in all three categories.\n\nWhen I learned of the existence of \"extending the area of control\" via a television, there is probably more than fifteen years now, I am not rushed on, without really knowing why. However, I rushed to buy \"elementary particles\", a book that I devoured and I still hold in the highest esteem. So I rushed on Platform, upon its release. And very quickly, the fatigue began to emerge. I keep including the memory of being left completely cold front end to the slaughter, as indeed I was insensitive to the media debates on his stance vis-à-vis Islam.\n\nPerhaps in frustration, I then bought \"extended field of struggle\" which was, I think he left in his pocket. I have finally liked the convening of inequalities specific to the dynamics of the capitalist system to treat the desert sex of the author. I had already heard in the TV show mentioned above, and is, I think, what had attracted my \"heed\", my \"active consideration\". As for \"The Possibility of an Island\", the work may be behind, somewhere hidden in my library. I'm not sure. From memory, I have traveled a few leaves diagonally at my bookstore. But I think I've rested. And the probabilities is that I did not read and that I probably will not read it.\n\nNevertheless ... So qu'Houellebecq was a rather distant memory, although there has already revived not long ago, something changed yesterday.\n\nThe media buzz that always creates a literary season I had been informed that on September 9 was leaving the already famous \"The map and territory\". Houellebecq vs. Goncourt, Act III as the World title. But I paid a discreet attention, even if it revived the memory of the beautiful new U. Ecco on the same theme. And then, hyperlink hyperlink, I ended up falling relentlessly on our friend Houellebecq. Then I read the criticism, murders, his new album by Tahar Ben Jelloun. I also noticed that the privacy interests of Houellebecq's definitely a lot and I told myself that it should not be so obvious that it to bear. And above all, I landed on this text, \"die\", \"read on the internet\" as it is written in the newspaper article.\n\nWho knows why, \"are then\" returned \"my last two\" relationships \"with serious maintained Michel Houellebecq. The first is the use of extracts from the chapter \"competitive advantage\" platform as a subject of discussion for second year students of Masters (over \"strategic management and international). It must be said that students had indeed tried this little stab, they forced me, for the only time in my career, to give them a 20/20 oral collective strategy. They chose the case, \"Because group\" developed a scene showing an episode of House, to illustrate the whole set of dialogues with the millimeter scopes and limitations of traditional tools of strategy in the digital age. I was amazed this work, as had been the friend asked for the opportunity that would bring the eyes and judgments of the practitioner.\n\nWith a sample of \"platform\", they would be able to show what they were actually in the belly: it was nothing less than to find fault with Michael Porter and his \"competitive advantage\", mobilized by Houellebecq, for demonstrate the relevance of relative its conceptual framework in terms of field investigation chosen by the writer: tourism, and therefore the \"services\". Yes, the service, this \"thing\" that occurs at the same time it is consumed, so has no reality except in time of consumption, leaving only \"souvenirs\", which gives an absolutely fundamental to the front office, personnel in contact with the \"client\", which requires the activation of goodwill of both sides to happen anything ... The problem was therefore, obviously one of those that I like most: that of the intangible. In writing, the best score was, from memory, 17/20. It took us anyway to a 18.5 average for the student (e) question (e). Knowing me, hat!\n\nThe second banking relationship with Michel Houellebecq is not on about but on speeches, mobilized as support last year for my course on epistemology of management science. I have not read either - despite the interest aroused by the issue - their \"public enemies\". But I remember being very interested in the potential support of discussion and exchanges that could represent this program for a course in epistemology.\n\nSo I played it back all. And I remembered why I liked the beginning of Part 2. And Part 3, especially to 11'30 and 12'28. And then this part 4, and these moments are memorable 03'40, 05'55, 08'30 (I hope not to make mistakes). And what 13'43 Part 4 followed, in Part 5 of these \"moments\" to 01'00 and 02'50 and 03'28 jusqu'à04'45s. Finally, the best is probably to listen to everything, without getting lost in the maze of seconds. Although, not to saturate the \"ticket\", I inserts the parties directly concerned (the eight parts that make up the show in its entirety are readily accessible by clicking here).\n\n Michel Houellebecq et BHL sur France 2 Part 2\n\nenvoyé par nleoo. - Films courts et animations.\n\nMichel Houellebecq et BHL sur France 2 Part 3\n\nenvoyé par nleoo. - Futurs lauréats du Sundance.\n\nMichel Houellebecq et BHL sur France 2 Part 4\n\nenvoyé par nleoo. - Futurs lauréats du Sundance.\n\n Michel Houellebecq et BHL sur France 2 Part 5\n\nThe exemplary invites himself on many occasions, the concept dear to me. Setting an example is presented as a source of inspiration and courage, I agree. It has its origin in forms of \"gift that forces\", I agree. It would maintain a certain relationship with religion, I willingly concede.\n\nYes, although I am not interested usually very far to the work of Bernard-Henri Levy, then I remembered why this issue was represented to me a nice tool to do some teaching innovations, to introduce students to epistemology of management science, debates positivism / constructivism, presenting the issue of exemplary. Yes, the dialectic of \"positivism\" logic on one side and \"commitment\" based on the exemplary nature of the other is an idea that seemed very wise to dig.\n\nThen, once there, I tell myself that I will finally realize the promise I had made at the time ... before thinking about something else: read \"public enemies\". Because, basically, I think both, in their respective positions, in their references in their theses, my problem. And it will soon be time to try to think why.\n\nUntil this, I imagine that it will consider the nature of the link between what has been told and the title chosen for this post. Perhaps none. Maybe not. But since it is by writing a note in which I try to help (a little) to the thorny debate over the \"future of the university ...\" ; Because I want this ticket mark, somehow, an end (perhaps temporary) to the adventure blog, since it is on this occasion that awoke these \"memories Houellebecq,\" and then for a thousand other reasons ... So I told myself that it was not worth the blow to change the title of the ticket originally planned. And this, even though I've thought a moment and thought to integrate into the category \"passing ...\". Before judging it was definitely better here, in the \"future of universities ...\".\n\nSo, unless further setback the same order, which would justify another trip to unforeseen insert the text on which I worked initially with number 3.\n\nFrom August 29 to September 03\n\nThe autonomy of universities to the independence of academic: Act III, Scene 1-5\n\nThe academic year will be effective very quickly now, catching up with the defenses of memories, the second recruitment sessions, the first course for students already \"returned\" (alternate). So the time has perhaps come to look back on a wealth of lessons.\n\nIt is always difficult to date the beginning of an adventure. Perhaps the philosophy is well summed it by one of the first reviews on \"the independence of academics. I think especially that I already have quite faithfully traced the \"pathway\" at the ticket on the \"paradox of the present\".\n\nIt is true that in any \"adventure\" in any \"trip\" there are \"moments\", unpredicted come \"way\": the publication of the note on the university, relayed as a chronic \" lemonde.fr \"will therefore triggered the receipt of the text of Michael Debeauvais and its\" memories of Vincennes. Wonderful time, followed by several others over the arrival of his texts, now transformed into \"hyperbook.\n\nThe simple idea that if I spent my summer something else - writing the next article, for example - this meeting will probably never would have occurred, yes, all this confirms to me immediately that this experimental approach worth it. First return to a multitude of experiences and lessons.\n\nThis \"encounter\" with Prof. Debeauvais accompanied by four themes of questions on which I am committed to give my opinion ... so I thought, initially, that the time had perhaps come. The task also \"complicated\" by a comment from Pierre Dubois reproduced here: \"young researchers (PhD students and neo-docs) in humanities and social sciences, economics and management interest they have to immediately publish their results line (to make themselves known to participate in public debate), or do they benefit (of works) to wait to publish in a journal labeled AERES, even what their results are dated, obsolete? \"\n\nA note on the \"future of universities ...\" therefore became increasingly difficult to avoid. So I myself am attached.\n\nI started by asking some \"precautions\" as it should in our business - unable to deal with all issues, their eminently subjective, etc.. Then I tried to question the current trend of universities, I tried to formulate questions about their fate, all without losing the thread of my initial problem: the adventure of this blog and will to do this, too, some feedback on experiences.\n\nThe process is difficult, I decided to call to free the process of writing, a fellow with a thousand faces, a kind of \"peer\" imagination: I needed to be heckled, pushed into my corner, and shouted at criticized. I note also that I must speak of this \"formula\" than my PhD students who \"struggle\" to liberate their pen. It is over this \"argument\" with the \"peer\" I have (re) thought \"Houellebecq\" and said it deserved a ticket.\n\nAnd then, exchanges in trade, words into words, lines into lines, I started approaching 8000 words. No doubt, it was so unreasonable as to what ought to be, anyway, a \"ticket\" blog! I think especially as I wrote at length, many ... too. And then I finally find that, on the university, the points I raised issues that had already been better expressed elsewhere by others. So why not simply refer to these contributions: here, here, and here for example?\n\nTexts that know each other perhaps. Texts to be discovered, otherwise essential before it can commit serious reflections. Especially texts that open the debate more than they conclude. Texts that I consider important, particularly when establishing a few \"truths\" of common sense and thus contribute to the magnitude of the projects I've ever seen personally in the work of the intellect least provide answers that help raise the debate as Hirschman would say.\n\nWhat about my relationship with my \"pair\", became the most reasonable redoing everything, ie keep only a few \"good lines\" that can be found below, and know, as in the trial of any serious research, throw everything else into oblivion for more rework, again and again.\n\nWe therefore read below why this blog has been \"activated\", for which tickets, helping them back, will probably become more rare. Above all, why I want this blog becomes a \"medium\". All these points are discussed, with great pleasure. And as we said in our fields, they are those of the author. Could it also be reasonably different when it is the responsibility of working knowledge?\n\nTHE MEANING OF THIS « ADVENTURE ».\n\n\\- \"So what is this blog thing, my dear fellow? And this thing, the\" hyperbook? And this button to donate? \"You give charity now, hat,\" that is glorious! Z 'are gone crazy or what? Z'aviez nothing better to do with your summer? Password again the idea that they reflect the fact that in the field of management, the books may have value for scientific publication in spreading wider and perhaps more consistent with the epistemic project of the discipline of the traditional items ... But now you are and stuff! you we are playing at Debord ...? You want to Goffman scene to ...? Looking for your fourth hour of glory ...? You prefer to enter into a process of \"star system\" rather than playing the normal game of \"reviews\"? easy not to submit to the review! To refuse the contradiction and to better afford to say anything! Like your stuff on \"ponzi schemes\" '\"And do not give me the shot told me you wanted to practice some here lessons from the \"general course of mediology\" Debray! Ah no! Hein, because you know that \"play\" and the scientific convention is not without risk ...\".\n\nDear \"pair\", let me tell you that your similar admonitions furiously to \"hot issues\" of viva ... or HDR! So I would not insult you to forget my experiences of defense: First collect, exhibit, then, that we understand the criticism and it was based, of course, since it is issued by a \"pair\" distinguished, and then, especially, to strike back, always.\n\nSo, dear \"pair\", so let me answer you point by point, and this without entering into a substantive discussion about the general mediology: we are debating here that some experiments and lines produced on a blog I can not understand a reviewer for Administrative Science Quarterly!\n\nSo, point one, this idea of \"blog\". Post is already wanting to make public, right? Good. So I'll answer by force of numbers and you sprinkled some \"slides\" of \"defense\" ...\n\nYes, you saw 416 unique visitors on August 24, who viewed 865 pages, this is what I say the statistics ... Continuing: 1779 hits \"unique\" since 1 August 4973 page views. And yet the month of August is it not finished because my \"data\" stop at 24! Then I return the question: the experience she does not deserve to be at least attempted? That would it not once, anyway, despite all the limitations inherent in the exercise and on which I shall return, to try to share some articles and views of substance with the many?\n\n\\- Allow me, dear colleague, may interrupt immediately. And I will answer you immediately between other figures: Jorion, he enjoys several hundreds of thousands of monthly visits, I believe it! So, nothing to be so proud! And then you think I missed your ride, the biases that you have brought: a good number of those visits have not they been raised by some writings placed in the right places? Lemonde.fr I read, I'm connected! And playing on the topical to slip a few comments in the form of links Mediapart, here is a bit limited, is not it? Moreover, they were very kind not to cancel your subscriptions! This is what I did for them .. Finally, allow me to estimate that the problems you hope to address some of your texts were at least allusive, as in this \"family business\" ... Doesn't it invalidate all your approach?\n\nWhile I readily concede, in our attention economy, I went looking, sometimes the attention where it is. But something tells me that the \"game\" to which I am trying with this blog since mid-July, just to try a \"speaking\" a manager in the public debate, so this game could well have some effect. And this even if the players first came out of curiosity, a curiosity that I actually sharpened or shunted from time to time ... But, dear \"pair\", we are neither one nor the other choir boys! Just as we are not ignorant of the fact that research is primarily a combat sport. You contradict me on this very point that I was interested ...\n\nAnd let me also open a parenthesis here, take this opportunity you offer me to push one step further my \"defense shells ...\". This \"blog\" which I describe as super-blog, it does not participate in these forms of procedural rationality which is taught, according to H. Simon and J. March, to produce something a bit unpredictable channeling behavior, directing them, guiding them. Here, to publish, then go back, rework, to make corrections? The inverse of a simple contemplation egocentric - I knew you like I can reassure you - the book appeared in bookstores or article published in \"magazine\", is not it?\n\nAnd let me take this opportunity to finish the ticket on our \"best enemy\", Michel Houellebecq and Bernard-Henri Levy.\n\nAnd you say that is the reason why our two \"great\" writers, the best self-proclaimed enemies, then, bother me: both alike are probably too high in our virtual economy where the \"winner take it all \", to be considered truly\" exemplary \"in their remarks. Their lack of thought that publishing industry they are also products, which now is confined to debility most confounding, is the most crass cynicism. In both cases, on behalf of the exemplary managerial, would it not matter to sue them?\n\nSo, imagine Houellebecq watered bottle of champagne with her boyfriend Beigbeder \"cursed\" in some night clubs of Moscow, which now makes me wonder. And BHL, sunglasses on his nose in New York, which holds forth endless boasting of her bundle of references - it looks like a bibliography of doctoral thesis of a young \", that leaves just as dreamy ...\n\nWriting this post will therefore initially not been useless for me: I just save a few euros for the acquisition of \"public enemies\". For this is a good book that I will not buy. No way to play the game - I know too well - to bring together the \"value\" in a publishing industry which they are first \\- and besides with a persistent refusal of the critical me is so expensive - the \"hyper-winners\" ...\n\nI hope this leads, at least sometimes, a few ethical contortions. This would be the least of things. And let me tell you a secret: if I ever chance to meet our writer Michel Houellebecq, who calls the \"Stooges\" in the excerpt that I presented, I would remind him happy attitude of the leader group at the time, dear Iggy Pop.\n\nIf we were in this place that I respect so much, this beautiful French university, if not decency forbade me, I would say that I would gladly do what the singer was the hippies of the time, sprawled at his concerts by saturating some smoke illegal: he jumped from the stage, down into the \"pit\", and hitting them - sorry again my words are being displaced, I agree, but what else? - Some of those good old kicking ...... that challenge the ideas clear. As for BHL, I note that some have already occupied him a few cream pies to bring it down to earth and remind him that existence precedes essence, these are acts that underpin the exemplary , not words ...\n\nI also note that both alike, prefer to avoid the beautiful logic of the legal confrontation. How I wish, however, be assigned by them ... For having a bit of experience in this area, I would take a real pleasure to make them taste the subtleties of legal reasoning that they look so much fear, one as the other. I am convinced that it would give them the most good. But I might as well give them a little of the manager that I like psychotherapy may dispense from my office to our friends at the Versailles Saint-Germain-des-Prés districts and other \"favored\".\n\n\\- You get lost, my dear colleague ...\n\nWithout doubt, please forgive me this digression, I fear, however, to forget if I shared it.\n\nSo, back to your questions instead. And since my \"subscriptions\" look of worry, know that I made a bet that seems reasonable in the newspaper industry, the bargaining power of actors is it still so high that newspapers could afford to cancel a subscription without other forms of trial? And then, in these comments that I addressed, was there no bottom?\n\nNow, I grant you that you ask of course the real issue: the \"quality\" of these \"visits\" and, especially, the degree of attention of \"visitors\". Have they read the entire blog? Do they come as they are quick to look elsewhere then bring, without consulting the links without reading the other articles, without consulting the pages? In short what is the quality of their attentiveness to what is written? Good question, so - thank you for helping me to make you ask me!\n\nGood question, therefore, to which I hasten to answer bluntly: have you ever felt the same questions with the articles you've published in magazines? How do you think, seriously, there are articles that have referred a transformative? Is there not also some quotes from convenience, staged at the Goffman? The real question seems to me there is to know if this is the essence of the content, or if it is a way to mask the emptiness of the way, the issues and projects?\n\nAnd let me continue being politically incorrect: we do not, researchers in management, things too important to share with the public to stop, if only from time to time with this game Widgenstein considered - but I am speaking from memory - it only served us entregloser in polite company? At least, I judge that we change the \"slides\" powerpointisés ...\n\nIn short, you will understand, I played the probability - which I hope can be at least 0.5 - the volume of hits that would end a few will, perhaps, been intrigued. And this little number will, perhaps, is the effort to active attention to read the links, listen to videos, take a little of what we miss so much time at all.\n\nSo yes, I think that this adventure can play a complementary rather than the traditional format of publications. Probably not better. Maybe not so well. Just another way to \"go public\". But you're right, the risk is not negligible. And it allows me to give you a clarification: I will not enter this blog every day, or even necessarily every week. I think it could become, first, in support helpful. And in this aim, the overabundance of items, continually awaiting the \"next\", so this could prevent the previous consultation. But the news is so provocative that I am afraid in the future on some occasions not to meet this commitment.\n\nBut I believe that the \"mission\" that I assign to this blog / journal is now complete: I have shared many ideas I never would have otherwise publish in this long time is that of the scientific intent. And I look forward now, who knows probably more than you and me about the value of a blog to encourage the active attention ... But at least I can start working on new ideas. Is not it more interesting than rehashing always the best way to publish my ideas? The risk of not longer than stuttering seemed, in any case, significant enough that I undertake, the course of a summer, otherwise.\n\nON THE \"HYPERBOOKS.\n\nI turn now to item 2: \"hyperbooks.\n\nThere you will have noticed that the world is spinning as fast as he finally bit ahead. This did not deserve it not be said without waiting for a publisher to publish deign by traditional means my impositions, including \"memory crisis\"? Moreover, on this last little, you've noticed the title of \"Volume 2? \"ROM - loyalty. With the problem \"racism\" as extreme loyalty ... Written in June, I do not think the news of the summer I would like a nose-thumbing its such a joke, such a set of \"words\" and \"evil\". Staggering, no?\n\nSo yes, I am more convinced than ever that it has been good to make it public immediately ... And for once, the transmission dates Smashwords versions will witness what all this was pretty much a foregone conclusion! But this does not now, a possible transition from the traditional publishing channels. I just decided at the beginning of summer, not only revive the issue of \"return\". Is not my right to do so?\n\nNow, I also recognize that many questions remain: Do we really read a book \"on line\"? Without having first desired, carried away with itself, without the leaves in a related subject, the book? Can one read \"really\" - implying, as it should read, that is to say, pencil in hand? Yes, I admit, this question remains open. I note however that I am not the only one affected by the problem ... I imagine that this same question all those involved in the publishing industry is the pose, as these \"new entrants\" from Cupertino, or elsewhere ...\n\nBut I would also remind you of something. Impossible, environmentally speaking, to maintain our consumption of paper: the trees of the world be enough to power two years of Chinese reading at the rate of the average reading of French. And even as we read far too little in France ... As a good strategist, \"you know like me that is the dynamic\" environment \"necessary to the arguments, which are also constraints that must know (to) play, which calls for new forms of experimentation.\n\nLet therefore consider that, if all this is beyond us, even expensive, this does not constitute a reason that would justify inaction. Can we test some of these strategic innovations that we love to teach? Why not work on new ways of creating value (s) to see if the horizon, approaching leave some \"blue oceans\"? After all, the shoe should they always be the worst shod?\n\nESSAY ABOUT (E-)DONATION.\n\nAnd I am therefore quite natural to item 3, the \"donate\".\n\nI note that this seems to cause you pain. I understand, of course, your anxiety, which probably justifies the irritation that you experience and allow me to rephrase as follows: is there a risk, not least, this may be misinterpreted? I could give here the feeling that a university professor would alms?\n\nTo this I answer, perhaps ... Except that I do - which does not seem to be your case (!) - The challenge of culture readers. Those who understand that we are to see what gives \"Mauss\" in the XXI century, in practice. And do not tell me that the game would not do the candle, the news you bring a scathing denial!\n\nI am confident because you know perfectly that the two problems are on one side, bulimia gorge illegal downloads hard drives of computers well beyond what can be read or listened to in a life and , on the other hand, the general lack of curiosity which show more and more \"young\" and less \"young\", including among our students.\n\nWith respect to the research, so that curiosity is the first quality, I am amazed these articles now available in real time. I can not help but think back to that time that I knew - excuse the side (already) Veteran! \\- Which was required for the texts, namely the expected, desired, this brief time, not so old that the consultation was not easy ... This effort contributed to the work of (trans) formation of the young researcher. I see less and less to produce.\n\nThis, at the risk of sounding reactionary, I think dramatic. The brief stay at the ENS that traces Debeauvais Michael is a pretty introduction to share this problem, this desire for knowledge that we must return. For we see every day in our operations caused damage at all levels by all-free, fully available all the time, immediately: shameless plagiarism, bibliographies extension, multiplication references \"bracketing\" and finally , general loss of critical thinking. Journals Anglo-Saxon \"starred\" are also, in my view, not free from reproach in this area, helping to drive the dynamics of mimetic rivalry drama. So my idea is quite simple: can we help educate? The gift paradigm is it an effective tool to achieve this? Give first, thus creating the conditions of the obligation to receive and spread, through the \"gift-cons\", that of \"surrender.\"\n\nI see an imperative in our ability to resurrect these forms of learning among young generations, just as it is important that despite the legitimate democratic aspirations through our societies, the importance of an aristocracy of knowledge represented by \"securities\" and \"status\" is assumed and reaffirmed. We are far away. The copyright should continue to mean something ... We must teach it again, I am convinced, out of the idea that everything could be free, perhaps réimpulser logic compensation inherent in commodity exchange by making practice through the prism of gift-cons and recreate the relationship of trust.\n\nWe know only too well how the populism all were first drawn their strength from ignorance and misunderstanding. Should we not do anything against it? And even that would not disown guerrilla D'Aveni is conducted after all forms of \"expertise\", all cons-powers at all levels? You know me as though things do not apply. We must reaffirm, higher, stronger in the age of technoscience.\n\nYou tell me that I did not invent anything, only a few cynics anarcho-capitalists believe that a society based on the exchange could only merchant. That in fact it will never be nothing, since the exchange between people will always bear the stamp of relationships based on price, coercion and the gift. That's all about the respective roles that are granted, politically, these three terms. That too believe in a form of relationship to the exclusion of others, we always end up flirting with some dangerous ideological drift. I admit, but one thing to say and teach, that's another thing to do practice. And in any case I note that the policies have seen the interest to update this logic ...\n\nI also see an issue potentially \"therapeutic\" in this exercise of gift / gift-cons. Something that might approach the payment of its meeting by the patient during a \"psychoanalysis\". For reading, is it not also engage in a desire to put at risk what we think? And I note that this is, indeed, one of the great strengths of strategy consulting firms: they know that they are more expensive, more likely they are to be listened to and heard, the more their expertise is followed up. Without going that far - the abuses are obvious - the gift / gift-cons can not recreate this kind of logic?\n\nThe beauty of this book have meaning only if the active cooperation of the reader. This requires, as we know, an effort of concentration and thinking we are all becoming less and less capable. Then, return the gift / gift-cons can participate in dynamic impetus to others? I do not know and finally offers to Tocqueville, to expect this judge \"informed\" and \"integrity\" is the future.\n\nI finish my argument on this point by stressing that the issue of donation found a very new news related to technology. It fits clearly into new practices (platforms \"gift\"). The risk that new \"smoke and mirrors\" are thus created is obvious, but this return to the news of the gift seems significant enough in practice for a researcher in strategic management from taking, in turn, the risk of some experiments .\n\nFar from being of judging the risk of displeasing you, allow me to confess my curiosity rather morning impatience with the results of this \"experience\" of the (e-) Don: You know how much I try on vouchers and experimentation is, whatever happens, the source of knowledge. Basically, we do not so easily rebuilt the \"superego\" 'the scientific intent that you know, dear \"par\", so represent.\n\nAnd let me finally emphasize that experiments are already numerous enough to justify trying out new ways to generate knowledge that could not be without impact on our scientific intention itself.\n\nNote: Learning technical possibilities ... is made by walking.\n\nThe \"donate\" has been replaced, thanks to smashwords by a \"reader set the price. The logic is, in my mind, identical.\n\n\"BLOG AND ADVERTISING.\n\n\\- \"At least you will not fall into the trap of display advertising ...\"\n\nIt amazes me that this has escaped you. And I discovered that you have not visited this blog with the attendance that I thought ... At different times of this \"experiment\", I sometimes inserted advertisements ... before making them disappear. I actually preserved ad links at the bottom of articles. So, as I am sure you will check this minute, let me give you without waiting for some explanation.\n\nOn the \"flyers\" advertising, first, my question has been simple: how advertising is likely to create as \"income\" for keeping a blog? Advertising Is not the current issue, and clearly assumed, as google the iPad? And to understand the issue, what better research protocol than to insert myself?\n\nWhen the first ads appeared, it was humanitarian foundations, and this has not caused too many ethical questions. But when institutions have emerged as \"revolving credit\" when the screen was saturated with \"online poker\", the \"video games on-line and playing on other sites rencontre des solitudes,\" so my protocol research was a bit complicated.\n\nOf course, I credit my \"players\" not to be fooled by this kind of bad jokes. But credit revolving \", poker and video games, anyway, it was a bit much ... So when in doubt, I preferred to suspend the operation, at least the time to explain (but this introduces quite a \"bias\" as we like to say in our communities).\n\nHowever, I allow myself to reproduce in the future experiences of this kind, having failed to present satisfactory answers to my original questions: what the trade refers to a blog based on the business model of some free dailies ?\n\nOf course, there is information on the Internet, of course it seems that, again, the \"winner take it all\". But I'm curious as hopeless, I'll start at different times, over periods of longer or shorter. To see, know, understand. I hope my readers will therefore understand the credit process and why I consider it appropriate for them to undergo a few commercials and sometimes questionable taste ...\n\nHowever, this will give a small side \"offbeat pop art\" in this adventure: to appear in advertisements inviting \"revolving credit\" when reading a text on \"new Pyramids Ponzi\" or the mood of anxiety that permeates my \"who mocks Does it?\" Yes, all this will end up oscillating between comedy and provocation. My discipline is natural that this is not entirely displease me ...\n\nThe researchers in my discipline, strategic management, will perhaps also in these ads as invitations to work on research issues renewed: when researching the \"online poker\"? For when, finally, integration aspirations to play, recreation, madness in the general business policy?\n\nAs for the \"Links\" below the articles, the problem is different: since it is possible to choose the theme of advertising - choose not to refer, for example, that works - so I've kept stateless soul: it helps to know what \"fate\" of the algorithms in relation to what was written. The \"discoveries\" turn out occasionally surprising ...\n\nIn terms of blogging and advertising, it will consider perhaps on the \"results\" that I could already get. None yet. 1.32 euros at the end of August. Since my protocol \"various research and publication\" will be expected to pay 30 euros to get started all this, the ethical questions about my income supplements start so when I exceeded that amount. I will not fail to devote a note and asked, in the meantime, it makes me that appropriation that greed could not being the motive of my first advertising inserts ...\n\nFinally, above all, dear colleague, rest assured, I'm like you: I exercise a profession, I understand the value of my expertise, I know how to recognize when I deem legitimate. In the area of income, I have neither need nor particular needs of this \"adventure\". This perhaps deserved to be clarified without you to sink into the indecency to bring you proof of the amount I pay in taxes.\n\nLast but not least, let me tell you one last point: I believe that I did wrong end of having so many moods about the insert advertisements. Its removal on public television is under debate. This only is it not primarily the interests of those who oppose what the advertising make his return between 20 pm and 6 am? I cherish the immense lack of pragmatism, the truth. Which j'adjoint willingly ethics. Take on the grounds that the absence of advertising would best serve the culture, this is a clever political maneuver, but so flimsy. Then insert ads on a blog added to high culture, what a beautiful walk its nose so it would ...\n\nIf I did not know the scams that flourish in the \"fairs throne\" many and varied, so glad I invite all the \"bloggers\" talented that I enjoyed reading in this experiment - the \"novövisions\" and others \" Thierry Crouzet \\- they should be above the point of mood if this helps to give them a share of the guaranteed minimum income with the best specialists in cognitive capitalism believe it is one way of future work very seriously.\n\nIt may well disagree with the call for political ecology, do not share the idea that the end of the wage would be the promise of a great night - even if, initially, the worst nightmares? - And still support the quality of the bottom of what is discussed and that is, who would dare challenge it, a real \"work.\" But I know, alas, latent defects that contain this kind of illusion, and I know too much \"business\" not to know that all this is first the best interests of some players in oligopolistic industries where bargaining powers are totally unbalanced.\n\nHere's a tip: the authors pick up all the income they can, that's all the evil we can wish them. But they do not expect too much when even one day be able to live decently well: O. Stone teaches them why.\n\nTHE LRU AND (BEAUTIFUL) UNIVERSITY OF OCCUPATION.\n\n\\- \"Minute\" Time out! I interrupt you! What is this story? You can not just here to kick into touch, so, on the issue of income ... It is entirely your right evoke your personal situation as a very allusive. I agree also glad your history of experiences with the advertisements on your blog, as I recognize that in any way, you are the author and that this \"experience\" as you qualify, after all belongs to you. But the question of university income has she not been at the heart of the rationale, also, the LRU? The questions asked by Pierre Dubois do they not also on the careers of academic publications referenced AERES, any inconsistency between the scientific publication which takes time and we know the eventual obsolescence of the results, particularly in the field of economics and management ? And even Prof. Dubois animates Does it not a blog where he is currently being debated in premiums for university presidents, some of which apparently militate for recognition of a status akin to that of CEO ? Is there not also, with the LRU, fundraising issues, merit award for the teacher-researchers, premiums for scientific excellence? Since you raise the question of income, talk back! And then you Alchian and Demsetz know: the baker does not feed its customer-cons gift! \"\n\nYou'll notice yourself the magnitude of the issues and unable therefore to respond. And this without even discussing the sensitive nature of these I do not, after all, for what reasons - nor with what legitimacy - should I put on all these points. But since you have brought on this ground, I would close with a confession willingly and testimony. Before we begin, let me take a sample to the debate and discussion of future issues. And to tell you that my confession and my testimony I will go on to stimulate discussion on current developments in universities driven by the LRU and take positions that I allow myself, as always, at any of judging tomorrow.\n\nSo, confession, first. I was fortunate to have past lives at the university, including being confronted with the daily life of a large consulting firm in strategy and then, once entered the university, have continued from time to time, in part, because the honor done me in asking me to bring my expertise.\n\nThe question that was so often asked me was: should he, first enter the university with a salary several times smaller than suggested to me elsewhere, and even where I was still a good distance from my thirty years? Then later, he was leaving the university in view of the poverty that prevails in many cases, the languid and administrative opportunities that hinted elsewhere?\n\nTo these questions, I always answered in favor of the university course, but more generally, especially, the \"world\" academic. Because in no other field is not such a concentration of individuals as competent and diverse. Because nowhere else, I have learned much and continue to learn as much. Because nowhere else, the talents are so powerful and so many in our fine academic communities.\n\nSo allow me to infer from the confession that if young researchers to think only \"career\" without any further questions, then I would advise them that this is probably not to the university, or even perhaps to the academic world, they should turn their gaze.\n\nLet me refer here to the extract of wall street (from 1:30). For a researcher who did not understand where it stands between capital and labor - even if it is rather special in this area, if the situation is really rather enviable one - yes, a researcher in economics, management did not understand what interest there would initially by an obsession of publications and starry desire exclusive career, yes, the researcher then, I dare say, might do better to stop Research at once: his naivete does not she could eventually make it unsafe?\n\nBut the testimony before, not entirely unconnected indeed with the confession.\n\nSome details first for those who are not aware of university life. Much has been discussed that the status of university has three sets of tasks. Teaching, of course. The research then, often - and wrongly, I will return - regarded publications. And then the paperwork.\n\nOn this last point of administrative tasks, details are needed immediately. It is, in fact, two kinds: those who are in contact with students (in the direction of diplomas, teaching team building, organization of the year, chairing panels, etc..) And those which are more connected \" policy (management of departments, laboratories, mission variety of charges, Vice-President, etc..). This second category is divided itself into sub-categories: political priority-oriented internal to the institution (Board of Faculty, Scientific Advisory Board or university life, etc..) Shot and politics to \"external\" to participation in the life of its own scientific community, whether it be a jury member of thesis or habilitation to direct research to evaluate the \"papers\" and articles, attend conferences, including the other end of the world. All without forgetting of course that these two sub-categories can be confusing when it comes to organizing a \"Symposium\", for example, which combines issues of internal but also external radiation.\n\nThese clarifications raised, I can get to the heart of my testimony.\n\nI knew very closely, for having been in office, three universities. I've attended - and continues to do so \\- many others in the Paris region or province. And I note that throughout the responsibilities of \"administrative\" from my colleagues - but also mine - ride \"mechanically\" power over the career because of the attractiveness of training for management skills as students' managers \"for tasks to be dominant domestic policy. This in a context of lack of \"logistical support\", to quote Mintzberg. All this without forgetting the \"progress\" that we must realize and renew it as the essence of the profession and that we would have chosen another path if they had made someone happy to see progress of students, to contribute to training future colleagues, to share and give back what we had the chance to receive.\n\nThese tasks are obviously consuming. They are part of the job I chose. I was acutely aware that I should choose the exercise. I did not complain as they were also an opportunity to practice my profession in many respects, all extremely rewarding. I simply note that in this context, research activity - but also of thinking - always ends up being the poor relation: the moments that are spent are more difficult to \"squeeze\". Even when it holds itself to a certain discipline, when one takes a good hygiene, especially those moments proved less productive: it is the researcher in search of new ideas such as sports high level, only the regular training - if not daily - pays.\n\nWe also understand that all these easy tasks do not require similar skills and gladly accept the idea that other than I could have been more effective in carrying out each. Wanting to take all notes in all cases the feat, close to impossible when it comes to take seriously. Yet through all these tasks in their diversity, I learned things. Yet, as surprising as it may seem, I always felt that, far from being opposed, it could be conjugated to each other and be a source of mutual enrichment. So much for the testimony.\n\nI infer from the confession and testimony two brief points in response, though, the question raised by Professor Dubois. This question posed and waving all meals thesis, all the corridors of Congress, which relates to the best \"strategy\" to adopt publication.\n\nThe first is that wonder, it is understood, the concept of career in our fields. This concept suits me wrong. A \"career\", after all, is not first choice of all \"strategic\" personnel who have been made, and this according to the \"sense\" that everyone puts in his work? So maybe the lines that precede and follow those they betray some of my feelings on the issue and engage only me ... Similarly, the \"audio-video\" that's a blog post he says a lot about what I think is essential and that remains my view quite unthought when one thinks that \"strategy \"Publication for a\" career \".\n\nThe second is that a follower of Edgar Morin, I wonder: why think in exclusive (vs. public debate magazines \"labeled\")? After all, if, in the humanities, all the \"results\" are probably bio-degradable - and this is true particularly in management - they therefore will become obsolete so quickly? My weakness is that no estimate of the articles, book chapters and more generally written as I tried to commit have been called to obsolescence as fast.\n\nOf course, I could make mistakes, omissions by fish, first be condemned in my company by the extent of my ignorance. Sure. But never, I think I would have had the courage to undertake each of these \"publications\" If I had not seen a direction other than the benefit it could bring me solely in terms of \"career\". So I claim unreasonable to believe that if the results would be obsolete so quickly, then this may be the research questions which should be (re) raised.\n\nIs it not therefore the primary responsibility of the researcher - young or old - constantly questioning the very relevance of the objects it takes for investigation and knowledge projects it develops? In short, before thinking about the best way to publish, should we not more often (re) pose the question of the meaning of the project that drives us? This would also, perhaps, younger people to cope better with the journals refusal \"labeled\" Let us not forget that a high rejection rate is used to improve a \"ranking\"! I conclude therefore that answer by saying that it is also for young researchers to this training and then to understand what game they at times could be just the puppets.\n\n\\- \"With you it's like in Mozart, my dear colleague : there are too many notes, I do not understand anything. You do not respond to questions, such as Au and Pr! You will eventually make only chat ...\".\n\nThat's a boast that brings back memories familiar! However, I have always considered the reference to Mozart as unmerited as flattering ... Mozart! Let's be serious all the same! And let me take a few seconds to indicate that I, as a researcher in management, \"I think the experience makes sense because the devil often lies in the details ... But as you invite me so, I continue without waiting for entering the heart of the matter and questions ... as in those who are not me.\n\nLong time - too long perhaps, I do not know - at the university, as elsewhere, the logic of cooperation that prevailed was a sense of authority mingled with a sense of giving. The authority was of course the one that first gave the title: assistant professor, professor, each with specific missions - and we could still talk of \"big schools\" because the distinctions between \"teacher assistant\" \"Associate Professor\" and \"full professor\" include those generally in use within the university.\n\nThe donation was made which shows that all these \"classes\" who hoped to which each concern, a gift-cons. As the gift-cons of the wealth of trade first with teachers, then with colleagues from that of the infinite joy of having a sense of progress, to be better today than yesterday thanks to those who fail less than oneself, the joy of constantly renewed to participate in discussions where we try to imagine the world where we try to understand where the real source is first s'insatisfactions visceral, always (re) discuss, never taken for granted. And then, in the long run, this gift-cons, it was that, of course, have the satisfaction of seeing his own \"progress\" backed by those we respect most and who decided one day, then that you seek, accept, make you a \"pair\".\n\nThe authority thus conferred gradually over the \"career\" showed a strong sense of responsibilities: it came from the successful conquest of happiness but also losses to the enemy so hard is knowledge cultivated. This does not guarantee, but greatly promoted an ethic of expertise and capacity, most of which was that both of them are, first, some mornings \"culture\": one who had received both knew how important it was for him to giving his turn because the ordeals made aware that in the areas of knowledge and culture, nothing is simple - the teacher could not he even sometimes, oh oddity of knowledge, students learn?\n\nThis logic combines authority and Don have seemed insufficiently productive, require too much patience, sometimes be a source of too much injustice, too much to tolerate differences, insufficient reward good will, being too rigid, too authorize overflows (the \"co-options \"decried both the university part-time non-sanctioned, etc..). It was based mainly, I think, on a whim, a trust and, dare this word that has lost so much meaning today on compliance: the others, the diversity of those who are known primarily we had so much to learn. Something that belongs in a sense, a form of family spirit in crisis today largely ...\n\nThat all this is that the organizational logic is that the LRU is (deliberately) undermined. This double sense of authority and giving, we know - and the university is not an isolated case here - finally seems very low compared to the attraction \"natural\" that can cause a market exchange based on compensation individual, the feeling of freedom it can give the happiness of the acquisition instant he can (give the illusion of) purchase. In this sense, the LRU under his mask of evidence and common sense, is first, I think it a symptom of something much deeper.\n\nThus, gradually at first, then so incredibly fast and brutal since the mid-1990s, emancipation promised by learning at school, college, high school, in higher education has given way to an argument utilitarian happy that we can summarize in a hope to \"cash flow\" in the future. The selection rate - and therefore refusal - to entry, network quality of \"old\" and \"dating\", \"Pay\" output, the time before that employability is not transformed into concrete jobs have become synonymous with the highest places on the podium first national rankings.\n\nGlobalization and international competition have assumed no longer to satisfy national rankings. It should be visible everywhere, process since long and the ranking of Shanghai was not caused but simply confirm \\- is it not also very instructive that we come to the same China that is being establish its own credit rating agencies ... ? Even the \"Grandes Ecoles\", which formed the elite of the Republic, have undergone the shock wave of research that would be equal to \"star\" and figures, as it had now simple indicators to allow \"benchmarks\".\n\nWhile the race has begun, the stars began to flourish everywhere, and it still awaits the test, the true, the ultimate one that pays the payroll (the \"capital\" invested) to assess the classification the relevance of reorganizations or, dare I say, possible to consider liquidation. In research, the citation rate of journals in which researchers publish eventually, like it or not, prevail. It will of course be \"weighted\" by an \"H-index\" to assign individual premiums equally individual, but at the institutional level, it is this that lies in wait.\n\nThe LRU is she to be condemned these developments? And rewriting the status of teachers and researchers which was governed by a decree dating from 1984 - and has attracted the ire is known among those most concerned - is also to blame?\n\nIt is understood, I think all this is the first symptom of deeper dynamic, and I content myself with some background information related to my surprise (De) \"professional\" training which prompts me to think that the problem deserves, perhaps, be re-examined and reformulated. Not to plead for a return to a previous situation that I am too young and too old to regret not having seen the possible abuses. Not just to help ensure that these areas are so dear, knowledge and culture, is not confused, once again, speed and haste.\n\nFirst, I see in the evolution towards more autonomy of universities logic that tends to lose its independence from the university - was he \"be\" more independent pre-LRU? - Since now turns into \"teacher-scholar-administrative\". This logic modifies the profession that I had originally chosen and which I associated the idea of a freedom that was worth a few sacrifices, at least in the short term. Because, as it must look, then we would find. Because, since we teach, then he should \"spread\". Because, since we lead, then it should manager.\n\nNote that this is all wildly think the medical metaphor of \"infusion\" we fill by the \"findings\" of research, we disseminate the results \"intravenous\" by teaching the \"doctor- supervisor \"ensuring that the tube runs at a good pace ... Logically, it was assumed that the critical issue is the incentive / penalty. And it was mistaken as the image of a university that would qualify a company for this development - and even that is not a unique form of business organization!\n\nIt seems important to recall some evidence that managers and managerial skills would be good to put up any other time and I see all too rarely made in a coherent whole. This, perhaps through lack of knowledge in depth by scholars not familiar with the management science of how businesses are organized, at least those that are not only obsessed with cost control and also wonder about this that means building the future.\n\nLet's start with the question of incentive / penalty, positive as negative, a problem that the LRU must be coming strong resolve. In activities by definition immaterial, the question is always difficult. Academics are like surgeons, such as judges and, ultimately, like all the \"professionals\" of the \"Personnel\" to \"front office\" known inability to take proper responsibility for \"results\" even though that they do not control the state of arrival of the \"clients\" or \"users\". In their field, immaterial, nothing has, knowledge is anything but a heritage that could be \"transferred\" ... even if the \"powerpoint\" has been well designed.\n\nHow, then, want to engage on the objectives and résutlats? A lawyer, a surgeon, a judge would they else than the obligation of means? In all areas that carried out by \"professional\", the problem is the expertise and culture of the diagnosis. This only comes with time and patience, trial and error. The learning can be naturally faster in some people. Some will also make use of leading surgeons, while others will first be excellent GPs ... Those who know a little Mintzberg know yet why, in any case, we can not reasonably believe can be \"standardized\" results \"as one of the other.\n\nThe consequence is immediate: we can not seriously defend the university publish too little - or would not be smart enough politically to negotiate some administrative discharge - should teach more. This surprising according to the logic that could lead to a surgeon to operate more, to plead more a lawyer, a judge to try more ... because they are not sufficiently \"good experts\" in their respective fields. Yes, so, it brings to a problem the worst solution failing to detect the nature of the disease.\n\nContinuing on the issue of \"performance\". The issues here are too numerous and not unrelated to the previous points: who evaluates the evaluators? Scientific publishing is not it also an industry \"the Porter\" competitive rivalry with his analysis, his \"threats\" of new entrants to take into account its bargaining power to diagnose ... and barriers to entry which may make it very profitable for incumbents? In other words, wanting to integrate with the big \"dance\" of the international scientific publication, to better compete in the race, climbing the rankings so-called serious, is it not also be willing to jump over a few barriers to homogenising entry: English, train travel (s) plane (s) to participate in international conferences where he should be considered to begin to exist, address' into the air time?\n\nAnd dare I ask, to take the language of the economist, all this does not it, though, much of transaction costs in Williamson? The opportunity cost is not it too high? The investment could not be better spent reading something else, take the time to write what we think, to take advantage of new technologies to share with many of the questions we try to renew as to feed the democratic conversation? Worse, our academic communities abroad they expect first to be aped? Or do they want more of a French thought that would be the height of his reputation? For besides our medals \"Fields\" and our \"Nobel\" is too often forgotten that the humanities disciplines have also produced some of the most cited authors in the world: Foucault, Bourdieu, Deleuze and so on. Imagine also hurt these big names have to be allowed to set \"goals\" by managers keen on results ... Some ill-meaning perhaps, would also possibly be a link between decommissioning on disciplines interested in \"humanities\" and \"logic\" of research performance: it is true that in field of \"humanities\", research and teaching have always been seen as a \"system\".\n\nContinue. How can we judge the university presidents and their teams solely responsible for the management of \"talent\" and that even a university, a hospital, a court will never be the owner of such talents in the field the intangible, never belong to the individuals who compose it and accept (or not) to make their active participation. At best, a university may be endowed with a heritage, indeed, to maintain (hence the question of devolution estate ...).\n\nBut the knowledge that bears the body of academics, He will never know the boundaries thereof; because beyond the disciplines that separate each other, educational institutions, let alone the higher are all huge \"professional bureaucracies\". And Friedrich Von Hayek, the Nobel Prize - which was not a horrible collectivist, I think he - said there are over 65 years of knowledge can not be mobilized without the active assistance of individuals. It is well to remember in our areas where the temptation might be tempting to equate, erroneously, the university teacher-researcher administrative become a sort of \"provider\" of \"services\" in these three areas . Imagine Dr. House does one become the property of any organization whatsoever?\n\nFor this reason, in the world's intangible knowledge, only qualifications can be \"standardized\", and never otherwise than by the \"peers\". It is also because the intangible is not material, that nothing is decreed that the incentive and achim are complex phenomena without which no innovation takes place. Is not it is for this reason that J. Schumpeter noted that innovation called situations of stability free from competition (listen to this magnificent conference Alain Cotta should bring all our masters research ...)? and then also some \"slacks\", these forms of waste which bristled as quantophrènes Managers of the last century? without forgetting the need in the field of creating and sharing this knowledge to capitalize on different disciplinary knowledge ...\n\nFor all these reasons, more competition, more competition can not be the only incentive, unless deviations that cause we already know too: work on the topics of fashion, preferential use of large samples and methods nomothéthiques; loss of views of social and societal implications of research products to consider only the implications ... pour la recherche. These are real dangers. And do we not know enough already that the obsession with maximizing the ratio on which it is held sometimes leads to take risks, to be tempted by cheating, just once, just like that, then from time to time sometimes ... At the risk of waking up then a little later and make the observation that the body of publications \"starred\" masked some hidden defects (plagiarism, sample a bit biased, etc..). The news has already provided examples. They will grow.\n\nAnd I note that \\- but is this a coincidence? - The reform of university governance has never addressed the issue of power-cons could exercise the university by his thought. A bit like the question of the relevance of the existence judge, all things being equal ...\n\nIt is true that, beyond their diversity, all those who profess to believe and therefore teach, share, enhance expertise in love, beyond all understanding for action, action to understand. The reality comes to them, so always filtered through theoretical glasses. This gives the show \"symptoms\" of \"possible\" to try and for this it is necessary to have \"data\" to try to find \"laws\" the better to defy.\n\nDiagnosis is the art of possible requirements based on scientific intentions ... no insurance of any kind, ever, not to make mistake or do not fail. It was the opposite of all the logic that underlies the evolution of university governance. Worse, it is the exact antithesis of what those are believed to be models but for which I am concerned that we did not understand much: the actual practices of firms.\n\nIt has taken the risk against which to import the best research in management are fighting every day: the illusion of control for the controller to one side management \"indicators\" controlled by the other . And, of course, the introduction of competitive dynamics in preparing the \"egocentric\" against each other. This in a world where resources are scarce, where to qualify for the allocation of such resources will almost certainly know more now than ever \"connive\" politically to the right places, bypassing formal channels, practice good old logic of \" Night Visitors \".\n\nSo two points to finish this reflection could occupy us for hours as the subjects for discussion would be many - whether the dynamics of concentration currently at work, organizational reforms in progress, competition between universities but also intra-university cooperation between each of the disciplines that attempt to fight for their survival, etc..\n\nThe first of these remarks is that I can see clearly how the quantophrénie at all levels of the various tasks of our faculty members and administrative can lead to flirt with what the Anglo-Saxons call \"burnout . I know of no equivalent in French, except mental exhaustion. It is an evil that lurks, I believe all scholars at all stages of their career, and whatever the status under which they operate.\n\nThe risk of over-investment has been fully pointed, for example, on the famous \"publish or perish\". And I note that despite all the criticism, there is nothing: it is unclear on what grounds this \"publish or perish\" has not yet bright future research. I conclude therefore that the news of the \"suffering at work\" which is becoming natural-administrative faculty members. We measure every day, alas, it begins to be the best thing a shared world, and particularly in organizations where \"employees\" do not see much sense in their actions. For academics, this would be detrimental to the exercise of thought and work to learning. This would be nothing less than dramatic for our democracy.\n\nThe second of these remarks is that what is at stake in our fields, it is non-quantifiable, non-measurable, short the intangible thought, its creation, its sharing, its influence. So many \"things\" that are not very profitable and well \"politically\" in the short-term election campaigns. And above all, by dint of seeing only the obsession of \"result\" are encouraged to go where it results, specifically, are much more recognized and rewarded. I note with dismay as many years that many of my colleagues, among the best, go to other horizons, and I see how the new \"premium\" will lead to primarily manage the indicators, and at all levels.\n\nAnd what I see too often, it's a real conversation instead of democratic culture and the university in society, such as a policy planning. In this field as in others the \"propensity of things\" could well take us into walls - even if I dream of being wrong. However, we still have the chance, until further notice, paid by taxpayers to think, then I am convinced that we need to all those involved in that culture represents \"scholar\" - and beyond Naturally the only universities and includes all educational institutions - a thousand times more ambitious projects of investigation and in the ethics of public speaking. It does not run forever without risks when it comes to play \"power against power.\" This puts the issue of university academics and prominently alongside that of hospitals, courts, etc.. Which are all institutions that are now coming under massive shock waves.\n\nThe academic profession is the exercise of thought. The thought that it was deemed necessary, a day of constitutionally guaranteed independence \\- but which has well have come this crazy idea ... ? Then, to finish convincing that it would be wrong to regard my words as nostalgic about old times, I do not regret anything in the previous situation, I just do not see what makes the new improvements, then I Allow others to outline some ideas ...\n\nI readily plead and that academics of all disciplines, and especially mine, are structured into \"orders\". They claim that power, and that even they know the end connoisseurs of Michel Foucault that a society without power relations can only be an abstraction. They assume and mostly take risks, such as issuing opinions when discipline is called upon to justify the reforms. When they speak fortunes too amazing to be perfectly honest are made. Let them dare, particularly in my discipline (re) express opinions on actions of \"hypermanagers\" sometimes known as the order to account for physicians. They reflect, too, some tests of \"bar\" while the responsibility that will assume the \"managers\" that we train are, in our modern societies, absolutely huge.\n\nThis brings me closer, perhaps, of that for which militates Pierre Dubois institutes rather than LRU, but nearly flat in the said institutions are unified by orders, managed peer disciplines that are considered of equal importance , leaves that are judged fit to accommodate several real estate in the same enclosure to logistics or better \"sharing\" of this money must first remain public.\n\nThis also he never comes to the idea of a university president to dare to claim the equivalent of a CEO ... At least he understood that it mean today to be a conductor, and therefore know, first, draw back rather than on the front of the stage ....\n\nOf course, you will retort that this is probably not simple. That the implementation of such a measure would probably not without question. It would be impracticable in a globalized world. Sure. So I quickly, having made to withdraw this proposal impracticable, and I confine myself to practice, at least individually, each time as I think helpful. And this, independently.\n\nDear \"pair\", let me finish here our little exchange. With a bit of poetry that will be worth temporarily summary of responses to questions that were asked. And then with a little bit of this music that enchants too, which helps pass the time when doubt, research elsewhere is sometimes so difficult, when the day is cruel. That question returns, nagging sense of \"adventure\". That some lessons and then crutches prove more useful than words. When doubts could justify the sacrifices and why not, the worst evil that threatens the university: self-censorship. What say you, dear \"pair\"? Not bad, not to explain the horrors but also the pleasures of uncertainty in research as elsewhere, is not it?\n\nI see at least in this passage a wonderful summary of what I believe in: the responsibility that goes - but for how long? \" - With the status of university professors that the company has done me the honor of giving me by the hand of our former president. DES and no A, and regardless of the attachment that I can get to it, irrespective of the affection that I can relate to colleagues who are now in charge of directing. But nothing is written: the more dynamic heteronomous are flimsy, the more they stimulate healthy reactions of autonomy, and then, still, you can always (will) play the constraint, an occasion to reaffirm its identity and singularity.\n\nAnd then there is the independence of the university. I hope to be worthy, as far as I can. I will continue, as far as I can, trying to stay. Some will perhaps naive, I am a matter of honor. This honor is in the field of culture and knowledge, the most powerful incentive to continue. This honor comes first, examples which we adhere, inspiration bequeathed by those who preceded him. This honor, which feeds the passion, the passion is so important in my profession, that passion that no satisfaction of interest will never be replaced.\n\nTHE END\n\n*\n\n***\n\nAbout the author :\n\nJean-Philippe DENIS is Professor of Strategic Management at Paris Ouest Nanterre la Défense University (Paris X)\n\nWith Smashwords.com :\n\nIntroduction to Management Techniques, Theories and Ideologie\n\ns\n\nMemoirs of Crisis\n\nConnect with Me Online:\n\nhttp://www.jphdenis.com\n\n*\n\n***\n\n", "meta": {"pile_set_name": "BookCorpus2"}}
{"text": " \n# Hornswoggled in His Love\n\nCaptured with and by God's Love\n\n_copyright 2013_ _Ross Shultz – all rights reserved._\n\nThis publication can be reprinted, reproduced, transformed and/or transmitted in any form and by means; electronic or mechanical including photocopy, and recording including any other information and or storage retrieval system, as long as the material is not used in any way for the gain of money. Permission will be granted.\n\nThis publication cannot be sold, with the exception of a nominal fee of $1.50 to any book store, for the purpose of handling.\n\nAnyone who would like a free copy of this book, may obtain one by contacting the Author at:\n\nWebsite: www.themanwithin1.com\n\n_Email:_ themanwithin1@gmail.com\n\n_You-tube:_ <http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WGkEM0lKqVA>\n\nPrinted in the U.S.A. Copy Editor Andrea Westby\n\nLibrary of Congress Cataloged control # 2013937824\n\nISBN-978-1-4675-7206-4 -----ISBN-E-book 978-1-4675-7207-1\n\nTable of Contents\n\nForward...................................................................pg. 7\n\nThe Awakening.......................................................pg. 10\n\nIt wasn't a Dream...................................................pg. 28\n\nIs my Head above Water.......................................pg. 38\n\nI don't know or do I................................................pg. 52\n\nWhere did He go and why.....................................pg. 62\n\nThe Morning Rooster..............................................pg. 71\n\nWhere did He go and Why.....................................pg. 82\n\nLet's go Fishing........................................................pg. 95\n\nThe gathering.........................................................pg. 100\n\nDoing Hard Time....................................................pg. 110\n\nThe Meeting of Many............................................pg. 115\n\nTraveling High..........................................................pg. 132\n\nMy other eyes..........................................................pg. 150\n\nMeeting of the Hearts............................................pg. 163\n\nThe Long Road.........................................................pg. 187\n\nThe Edge of Correction..........................................pg. 204\n\nPlaces of Hope.........................................................pg. 221\n\nNew Friends, and old Ways...................................pg. 231\n\nThe Tables are Turning............................................pg. 240\n\nWhat's on the Next Hill............................................pg. 257\n\nLooking back to see Forward..................................pg. 265\n\nUnder the Shade.......................................................pg. 275\n\nWhere did my Life go?........................................pg. 288\n\nUh Oh.........................................................................pg. 294\n\nReflections................................................................pg. 305\n\nA New Beginning......................................................pg. 313\n\nHornswoggled..........................................................pg. 322\n\nA Reminder................................................................pg. 327\n\nAuthor's Note............................................................pg. 335\n\nForward\n\nAn historically fictional novel about a young man that was brought up with high moral standards, and not caught up in the goings-on of this world, at least to the point that his life is submerged in it.\n\nI have tried to be as accurate as possible, using as many sources and references as could be had; most of the greater details are hidden in Scripture, and with an understanding of the region and human nature could conclude many of the finer detail.\n\nThis young man, like most any of us, at least those of us that seek a deeper relationship with our God, struggled through life with a feeling of emptiness, although happy in every other aspect, knew that something special was missing in his life.\n\nEach step of the way brought him closer and closer to that fulfillment, but still seemed to stumble with each step taken. This man, born Simeon, and later surnamed Peter, was not unlike those of us that search for a truer and far more developed life, as any who have reached it, will confess; and can only be attained thru the Christ of God. Can we see ourselves in these pages? I think we can.\n\nThis world, which is enmity to God, throws out a net to contain and capture as many as would follow its empty rules. The façade of the glamour it offers, with its so-called great morals, and the pie-in-the-sky attitudes, reveals itself to all those that are seeking God, and a relationship with Him, wanting more than this world can proposition. The people of the world are generally good, but few if any, are ever taught that there is a greater Life that lies beyond the veneer this world pretends to possess, and this story shows that for not only Peter, but any who want this new Life, not dictated nor owned by this world, can have it.\n\nThis story brings an understanding of the men of old, with their life that is very much like ours, to an empathetic awareness that these were just common folks, people like you and me, empty without Christ, and wanting more than just an acknowledgement of Him, wanted Life abundantly. Struggles, we'll always have, and this story shows many, but it will also show that these same struggles aren't there to bring us down, but to take us to an appreciation of a greater life than this world, and its circumstances, are offering.\n\nThese 'things that we call church' are counted among those that are letting us down. There should be a vast difference between the world and these entities called 'church', but there is not.\n\nThe Awakening\n\nA young boy, about the age of thirteen is sound asleep when the squeaky voice of his brother wakes him. The responsibilities for these two boys are great, for at this age they are required to help their parents about the many chores that come with running a fishing business. Early, before the town, or mom and dad gets up they have what they call free time to do what they want, and both want to explore. Both are mature for their age, but both are young boys, and boys like to explore, and this day, which was made up between the two of them, was made to do just that, they were going to the sea shore. Just south of their home in Bethsaida, was the Sea of Galilee, and the things found on the beach after an overnight squall could be great, and that's where they were heading, to find what treasures were lying there as the gift of last night's winds would leave stationed in their appointed territory. This was fun, and fun is the main stuff that the marrow of boys was made for, it was going to be a delightful two hours of enjoyment, as they planned to accumulate the resources of the sea, before both had to go home by the time dad awoke.\n\nIt didn't rain much in their part of the country this time of the year, the sky's normally blue for months at a time, A typical day was a lot of hard work, good meals, more hard work and maybe a few moments for themselves, but they lived a good life, and dad was well respected throughout the region. On the days dad would go to Temple, the work would go on, but maybe not as fervently as it would on those other days. Neither knew of any other way of life, so life was good, very little complaining ever went on, as their life, for a fact, was very good, especially with the adventures of the sea.\n\nThe sunrises were beautiful, the sunsets could take you to far away horizons with their shades of pinks, reds, oranges, blues, and all the many different shades of greys and whites, it was a good place to live. One day not too long before, early, the boys did the same earlier trick as aforementioned, exploring and found, some hundred yard down the coast, a washed up net. Wasn't hard to tell that the net was recently lost for the fish that were tangled in it were still alive.\n\nLong before sun-up, waves calmly striking the shore in three second intervals, the half-moon far in the west with its' many sparkles lined up across the water like a silver road they could walk on, there it was, a net churning in the water, just knee deep and theirs' for the taking.\n\nWithin an hour they had it on the shore, and lined up in neat columns of diverse fish, all sorted to species, and all theirs. This was the day that both were to become rich; that is until their father was shown the accomplishment. \"No, the owner of the net had to be found, and the fish were to be distributed among the widows and the poor\"; but dad was still proud. To make things better, their well-known dad spread the news about the boys throughout; they were famous. Well, they thought they were.\n\nIt was on the cool, quiet mornings, that the two brothers could be found, sometimes with their assorted friends, fumbling up or down the beach on the south side of Bethsaida. Not every day, but as often as they could sneak out. All this rambling about was okayed as long as chores were kept up, and respect given to the shore line and their folks. Never was a time that either felt bored.\n\n***********************\n\nIt was early on a Thursday morning, somewhere around two hours before the first gesture of the dawning of the sun, when a young man woke to meet the day. As usual, he just laid there on his pallet that was always positioned in the same corner of the room as it had been for several years now. Not a movement he made except the opening of his eyes and a small swipe at a fly that had landed on his forehead where an encounter with a rope with the attached tackle had brought about a small cut with a trickle of left over blood from the day before. \"It was another beautiful morning\", he thought as the stars could be seen from the narrow window that was up and to the right of where he was laying.\n\nThe young man just lay there thinking. Quite often he did this as it was his most favorite part of the day. Thinking of the earlier escapades with his brother, not so many years ago, thinking about things that had happened in the last few days, but mostly thinking of the goals he had set for himself for the day that was gearing up to start. Lazy, he was not; work was something that his youth was very familiar with and he found his element in the sweat and toiling of each day. Working with his hands, and a disciplined mind is how he provided for his young family, and those that worked with him. As he watched the stars, the smell of smoke was carried into the room by the slight hint of a fog and a light breeze, he'd just lay there motionless as thoughts would run from his wife, to the days' objectives and back to her again. This was a good time in his life and he enjoyed the responsibility of providing for their new home and the men that worked with him.\n\nThis newly wed young man was from Bethsaida on the north shore of the Sea of Galilee, where he grew up with his parents that had taught him the advantages of hard work and how to give a square deal to everyone that he'd meet. Yes, he grew up under the teachings of the forefathers of old, and although he did not frequent the Temple, except on occasion, he loved the Lord God and continued to build his life under the principles of God's love for his people. He now moved a few miles west to the villa, not a small town, but not large in any stretch of the imagination, called Capernaum. It was there that he met his wife a few years earlier, and it was there that her parents also lived close to the Sea of Galilee. They both now made their home not far from where she was raised, close to the sea. Every day was spent enjoying the many amenities of such a gorgeous body of water, they loved it.\n\nStill lying flat on his back pondering the day that was about to begin, still looking out the stone window, still smelling the freshness of the waters that were not too far from where he now lay beside his wife, the young man surveyed his mind of how this day could be prosperous and how he could catch enough to make enough money to sustain him and the men that worked for him with the abbreviated necessities of life. The three men that worked with him depended on his leadership to provide for their families also, one was married, and the other two still helped supplement their own parents and siblings.\n\nAs he laid there quiet in thought, his wife beside him, she not knowing that he was awake, he began to rejoice in the expectations of the day to come and what would be accomplished. When suddenly he heard a voice from outside calling \"Simeon\", he knew who it was, for nobody but his brother called him by his true name, a name of old.\n\nSlowly, ever-so-slowly, he raised himself up to walk through the threshold to greet his eager brother, not wanting to wake his wife. \"Andrew, we have at least an hour before daybreak, what's the hurry?\" The young man quietly spoke in a somewhat of a hoarse voice. Before Andrew could answer he spoke again; \"are you as excited as I am about the opportunities that lay before us, this is the day of the new moon, and you know what that means.\"\n\n\"I sure do\", Andrew said with excitement in his voice, but still, he was speaking in a whisper, for he knew his brothers' new wife was probably still asleep, \"remember last month and the month before, we did well on this same day of the month, and I didn't get much sleep last night thinking about it. Hey! Where are James and John?\"\n\n\"Hold your voice down so as not to wake up everyone,\" Simeon spoke while his brothers' voice rose at the same rate of his excitement. \"Brother, it's a bit too early for them, but they'll be here before the dawn cracks, they always are.\"\n\nThere was a light cover of fog that hung close to the ground and over the water, but it was thin, meaning easy to see through, only about three foot thick. The stars were bright as the night seemed to be going from dark to darker. Knowing it's the darkest just before the break of day, it meant it was only an hour or so before they and the other two would board their two large boats, maybe even call them very small ships, and begin their day of fishing. Fishing was their way of life. Five, six, and on rare occasions, seven days a week at least two of the four men would set sailing in hopes of bringing in food and an income for their families and several others in the country of Galilee. This was early autumn, the air still warm, and a hint of crispness hung about that would last 'til at least noon. This meant a great time fishing the waters, as fish sensed the same change and were on the move, which meant it was vastly easier to net the migrating creatures, and especially on the new moon cycle. Anticipations were high for the days' journey because the last several weeks weren't all that good. High tide was about three hour after sun-rise, and even though it was minimal on the Sea of Galilee, it still added up to a great day of netting. Simon, whom his brother called Simeon, and John would navigate one boat, and Andrew and James the other. Even though they worked separately, they were usually within shouting distance of each other, but not always.\n\nThis was one of those rare moments that Simon and Andrew could sit on the sand and just talk about things that brothers talk about. They were best of friends, and had, thus far, shared their whole lives together, well most of it. Often their conversations were reflections of growing up together not too many miles west of where they now sat.\n\nThey'd reminisced about their parents and growing up on such a beautiful body of water, and the good times they had in and on the Sea of Galilee. Both Andrew and Simon were young, but had the maturity of older men thanks to the way their loving parents had raised them.\n\n\"Have you heard about\", Andrew said to his brother, \"that man some hundred miles south that's making quite a stir?\"\n\n\"No, hadn't heard a thing, and what kind of stir is he creating?\"\n\n\"Down on the river Jordan,\" Andrew continued, \"he's telling people of the coming of the Messiah. And a lot of folks are listening to him. What are your thoughts about that?\"\n\nFor the last couple of decades, and probably a lot longer, there had been much thought and conversation about a messiah coming into the land and turning things upside down, especially to the Romans that occupied their precious and Holy land. Simon had heard these conversations often, but still didn't have a strong opinion about it either way. He was a Jew, and that was a fact, but he didn't spend much time in or around the Temple, thought it was more politics than Godliness, and so did what was required of him and not much else. Simon fished with his father Jonan all his life, and so did Andrew, learning the trade and evidently learning it well. His dad spent much time in the Temple and with the things concerning it. And since they fished together for so many years, that is, until Simon was introduced to that pretty girl in the next village over, Simon heard and learned much from his dad. I guess because of his youth, most of what he was taught didn't stick, that is except the fishing stuff. He heard much of the hope of an upcoming Messiah, and God truly knows that Israel needed help, especially from the yoke that the Romans had placed on them. Several had recently prophesied, even one of the older gentlemen a couple of years back said that God had told him that he wouldn't die until he had met the Christ. Well, that man died about twenty something years back, and not much had changed since then. Simon didn't dismiss the Idea of the coming Messiah, but he didn't dwell on it, but then again, he did think on the subject every now and again, more than he was willing to confess.\n\nThinking to himself, he answered his brother Andrew saying; \"Right now I don't have time to think about what some man in the Jordan River is doing, I've got fishing on my mind. Talking about fishing; here comes Zebedee's boys, let's get things ship-shape and head out.\"\n\nLooking up and to the left, Andrew saw the two brothers coming and shouted out in their direction, that's because they had walked down closer to the shore, \"it's about time you two got here, we're burning daylight.\"\n\nTurning to look at each other, with a smirk on their face, they said in unison: \"The sun ain't up yet\"\n\n\"Good morning James and John, how's it going?\"\n\nJames spoke first. \"You know what today is?\" And then John injected; \"The new moon with a mid-day high tide.\"\n\n\"Yeah, we know, we've been talking about it. Are you guys excited as much as we are?\" Andrew responded.\n\nBoth shook their head yes, but before either could say anything, Simon motioned with his hand as if to say come-on, and then spoke. \"And a beautiful day it is, let's get both boats rigged and ready.\"\n\nJust as the eastern sky had a faint gleam of the breaking of the day, both boats had been readied. \"It's time, let's get going,\" Simon said in a soft voice. \"Today's the day. I can feel it in my bones.\"\n\nIt was mornings like this that the two older brothers loved the most. This same scenario had happened in their lives many times over, an anticipated moment that happens several times a year where all the factors come together at the same time, making conditions perfect. Heart rates up and energy soaring, they were ready. \"Today is the day, and now is the time\", spoke James as he waded knee deep, pushing the boat, and jumping in.\n\nAs they paired up, aligning their two boats together, and began rowing, both boats right next to each other, James hollered out: \"Have you guys heard about that man down next to Jerusalem, stirring up all that noise about the Messiah coming, and that stuff about baptizing?\" Simon, and Andrew both just shrugged their shoulders, but no one spoke a word. They just kept rowing.\n\nAfter about fifteen minutes of hard rowing, Simon and John were getting into position, and Andrew and James had a little farther to go. And then James quietly spoke. \"That man down there in Jerusalem, the one called the Baptist is making a ho-do around that part of our country. Heck, it seems that that's all everyone up in our parts are talking about.\" Andrew didn't say a word, but you could tell he was thinking, he laid his ore down as James continued to ready the equipment, grabbing the first buoy, and motioned to James to stop rowing.\n\nSince Andrew and Simon were brothers, it didn't take a long look at them to tell they were. Andrew was a little taller, and his beard was a little less dense, Simons' crook in the middle of his nose was a little more pronounced, both of a slim build, it was obvious they were from the same stock, both had their mothers' eyes.\n\nIt wasn't but minutes, maybe even seconds before the sun broke the horizon, and Andrew and James had the first net out, with its' buoy, and were now stretching the woven mass due south. As the net unfurled, they were making sure that there were no tangles, for the net had to be near perfect for all to go well. \"Easy goes it.\" Andrew spoke, but I think it was mostly to himself, as they neared the end of the two hundred foot long tapestry of woven hemp. Looking to his right, he could see Simon and John doing the same, probably about two hundred feet to their west; and maybe about that same distance closer to the shore.\n\nAs for that set, they were both finished, but had to row some thousand yards farther south and do the same to the second set of nets. The waters weren't very deep, and had a turquoise gleam to it, if it weren't for the ripples from the two boats; the water would have a look of polished crystal.\n\nSince they were now finished with the sets, Andrew and James rowed a little towards the west and both just laid back against the boat, one on the stern and the other against the bow. They didn't have to drop anchor, for there wasn't even a whisper of wind, and both could see that Simon and John had done the same. Andrew was the first to speak. \"What did you hear about that man they call the Baptist?\"\n\nStretching his arms above his head and in a low keyed tenor James said; \"I don't know a lot to tell ya, but he is stirring up a ruckus. They claim droves of peoples' lives are changing, he's asking folks to clean up their lives and make ready for the Messiah.\"\n\nThis struck a chord deep inside of Andrew, for he too wanted something more substantial in his life, so he pondered on the thought of such a change. His life consisted of fishing and little else, for he too wanted substance in his being. So the chord struck was more than just a fleeting thought.\n\nNow Simon and John were having a similar conversation, but Simon would rather talk about fishing. He'd always fished with his dad Jonah since about age six, and it was deep in his blood. It's only been a few years since him and his brother moved out of their dads' house in Bethsaida and took up the business on their own in Capernaum. Andrew liked fishing, but it was in the marrow of Simons' bones, this was his life, and he looked forward to everyday that he could be on the waters of Galilee.\n\nAlthough most of the gentiles in and around town spoke Greek, Simon and Andrew were schooled in Arabic, but were also versed in the other two languages of the region, and were raised in the ways of their forefathers. Their father had taught them, with intent, of the old ways, and each listened with anticipation when he spoke, but at this time in their lives, it just didn't stick. I guess, being young, and most likely adventurous, they liked spending their days under the sun and on the water, and dad's teachings weren't that closely adhered too. This was their life, and all the men liked it. As they waited, Simon cast a net out repeatedly to pass the time and maybe catch a few extra fish. This would often work, and the times when he was the only one fishing, he'd spend all day casting the net, and many times with decent results.\n\nSome four or five hours later, Simon shouted across the water and told Andrew to start pulling the nets in, and then move a little more south and do it again. At the end of the day, making two sets, both boats rowed back to Capernaum with a pretty good haul, but not as much as Simon had thought it would be twelve hours earlier. But still it was a-good-days catch, and well worth the tiredness that his bones felt.\n\nAs they pulled the boats upon the shore, and assessing the days catch, Simon said to the others; \"Tomorrow is the second best day we'll have in the next couple of months, that is, with the signs right, so we'll do it again in the morning.\" Taking the fish to market was not the easy part, but it certainly was the rewarding side of fishing. It was a better catch than normal, but still didn't meet the expectations that all had that morning of the same day. Exhausted, after selling their fish in the market, they all headed toward their homes, Simon to his new wife.\n\nThe sun was inching over the western horizon, which was the back side of Simons' home; the sky was red which meant another beautiful day tomorrow. Greeting his wife, Simon was tired, but the kind of tired that makes one feel good. It was his time to relax, reflect, and spend time with his loved one. A dedicated man he was, to his business, but mostly to his wife, whom he loved very much. Many times they would just set there between the two posts near the front door, and just talk, or maybe not even say a word, but always enjoying the cool of the afternoon and each other.\n\nThey were watching a heron trying to steal a rather large fish that washed upon the shore line that three seagulls were trying to tear apart, a scene that had happened many times before, but none-the-less it was always interesting to see who would win the battle. The sun had dropped out of sight and the daylight was waning, but still very easy to see across the vastness of the waters. The clouds in the distance were pink, as the sun still bathes them with its last rays. This day Simon and his wife just talked, talked about this-and-that. It was a good day for all.\n\nRunning a business was not the easiest of jobs, but Simon was created to do it, and do it he did. He was responsible for his brother and his two longtime friends, and his job was taken seriously, but there were certain privileges and notoriety that came with the job, and that pleased him. No, to be well known was not one of his objectives, but the reputation of dependably was important in selling his catch.\n\nAs the next year passed, each day and night were about the same as before with the exception that Andrew went south to check on the so-many rumors that he continued hearing about the Baptist. So Simon temporarily replaced him with another longtime friend, and also had to replace John and James, for they too had to go back and work with their father Zebedee, who was recuperating from a sickness that wasn't serious, but kept him off his feet for a while. Simon knew that they were to only work temporarily with him, as their father also was a fisherman, but had this problem he had to work out. It wasn't hard finding good men to fish with, for Simon was well favored in town with most of the folks. And since Bethsaida was only a few miles to the east, he, and his father, were already well known, before Simon was to be married, in Capernaum. Problem solved, Simon kept riding the tide and waves as each day dissolved into another. He was truly a fisherman.\n\n********************\n\nAndrew was intrigued in the first few days of sitting on the banks on the Jordan River, and watched and listened with intent as the Baptist preached and taught of the preparation of the soon coming of the Messiah. There was a following that watched and traveled with this man called John, and it seemed each day that Andrew sat on the bank, he would inch a little closer than he was the day before. Something had pricked in his heart, and he knew what was being said was true, and the whole country needed this Savior to rescue them from the tyranny of the Romans. Occasionally in the evenings, Andrew would talk with the Baptist, as he usually walked right past him on the way back to town. And then would ask a series of questions each time, for he always gathered thoughts as he listened to John speak while half way across that river. He knew of the help that Israel needed from the upcoming messiah, but he himself also wanted help from Him, and like his older brother, there was a hankering in the pit of his bowels.\n\nNow John, the one called the Baptist, was noticed to be a peculiar fellow, with his strange clothes and his unorthodox speech, but Andrew liked him, and was certainly interested in all John had the say, so they talked often. John was not schooled in the normal sense, but had a vast knowledge of the scriptures and the things of God, so Andrew listened and studied the man and the words coming from his mouth. A week or so later, this still continuing, John asked Andrew why he wasn't standing in the water with him. Andrew, looking down with a little bit of embarrassment said; \"that's a place for your disciples, I'm just a fisherman from up north.\"\n\n\"Actually\", the Baptist said trying to look him straight in the eye, \"I probably spend more time teaching you than I do most of my other disciples. Come with me tomorrow and let's see what happens.\"\n\n***********************\n\nIt had been raining with high winds in Capernaum the last several days and fishing was not to be had. So Simon caught up on his other many chores, not to mention the town gossip, and had already heard that brother Andrew had gotten involved with the man called John the Baptist, down near Jerusalem. His father Jonas, that many called Jonah, told him about that bit of information, and Simon didn't know, at that poin, whether to be happy for him, or concerned for his welfare.\n\nSimon was a simple man, common in every way, at least from the appearances from the outside. I guess that was because he didn't talk a lot, especially to those he didn't know well, but on the inside, thoughts, ideas, dreams and plans were going on in his brain from before sun up 'til the time he fell off to sleep. Simple would be the wrong word to accuse Simon of, for he was a man of deep thought, but few knew it. He wanted something different in his life, but really had no idea of what it was; something to give meaning to his existence. Fishing was good, and the business was thriving, and he was instrumental in having a hand in several other peoples' lives and their prosperity, but still something was missing. Being married to his new wife was special and he loved being with her, but there were still places in his heart that were unfulfilled. Even though he didn't spend much time in the Temple, nor practiced that religion, except when he thought he had too, he loved the Lord, and knew that all good things came from Him. It was the Lord God that he looked too, and in this situation of his life, he again looked toward Him, but as yet the answer hadn't come, so he and his crew continued fishing. Simon even had a couple of dreams that he thought were from the lord, but when he'd wake up, could only remember pieces of them. Twice, while fishing, he thought he'd seen someone walking across the water toward him, and once, while appearing into the waters, he thought he had seen himself walking, walking as if he was a blind man.\n\nThe days were getting a little cooler, but that just made things better, and relaxing while he worked was easier, and at times Simon frequently had many thoughts, in the midst of these less troubling times, that went beyond himself. The what-if's ran rampant in his mind; what if this happened, what if that, what would happen if he became hurt and couldn't support his family and the others. Worrying really wasn't part of his behavior, and saying he was concerned would slightly overstate it, at least from the outward appearance, but there was a nagging in his soul of something better in life, but couldn't pursue it, for he surly didn't know which way go, so Simon waited. Although he was known to have impatience, and quick decisions was something he was good at, or maybe not, he still didn't have a direction to otherwise go; except he knew to fish. Fishing, he understood all the ins and outs, and he knew how to love those that were close to him, but the complex manner of the inner thoughts, he was at a loss.\n\nIt wasn't a dream\n\nAfter a year or so Andrew returned back to Capernaum and took off where he had left before going to Jerusalem and learning under the leadership of the Baptist. It was in the cool of a late afternoon, looking up, Simon saw a man walking toward him on the beach. Thinking little of it for this was a common occurrence, but in a few minutes looking again, saw that it was Andrew. After their genuine and affectionate greetings, both sat under the clear cooling sky, a time that the birds gathered close to the shore to stock up on food for the night ahead, they talked.\n\nAt first the brothers caught up on the day to day occurrences, and then slowly worked their conversation to more important issues. Now Andrew had a lot to say, and Simon was certainly willing to listen. Simon was only running one boat now because this was the time of the year that fishing fell off, but the larger of the fish frequented these northern waters, making it still profitable, even though the count was down. Both men leaned on the side of the beached boat and talked, they talked about how the fishing has been and they talked about what went on in Jerusalem. Andrew was astonished with the happenings in and around the river Jordan and felt his life, at least his soul, had been rejuvenated, the reunion was great and it wasn't hard to tell that both enjoyed each other's company, but as the sun was now almost completely set, the two walked toward Simon home, and would, that night, spend the entire evening together.\n\nThe next morning Andrew was to travel east to see their parents and catch them up on the happenings of down south, and the changes that were going on within him. He left with excitement, and thought their parents also were looking forward to his return.\n\nIt wasn't but a few days that Andrew and Simon were back together fishing, leastwise when they could, they couldn't fish as much, the numbers were down, but the size and weight of each fish had substantially improved. A living, they provided, but not much more than that, but fishing is what they knew, and fishing is what they did.\n\nThe two could easily keep up with the work, and still they had plenty of time to spend sharing the many experiences that Andrew had down south. He had an excitement in his voice, and pep in his walk, Andrew was glad to be home, and not once did he ever regret going to Jerusalem and meeting and listening to the man called the Baptist. Although the rumors of the Messiah were all over the countryside, Andrew heard the prophet explain in detail the words that God had given him, and now the younger brother wanted to share them. At times, while expounding on the events prophesied, a small group would gather to listen to Andrew speak, but probably not with the same authority that was carried in the man standing in the river Jordan.\n\nNow Simon would be what I'd call a skeptic, that is a man wanting to learn, but then again wasn't going to follow just anybody's ideas of a prophet, yet he wouldn't write him off either. He would set to heart the things that his younger brother told, yet he wasn't willing to jump over barrels; that is, jump to conclusions, so he stashed the sayings away to be pondered later.\n\nIt was now getting to be close to noon, but this was one of those days that they could afford to use in a different direction, so as both sort of tinkered with getting the boat ship-shape, they talked; well, really Andrew did most of the talking. A large gathering of seagulls had congregated on the shore some hundred meters up the coast, and about twice that many were making circles above them. Both men stopped just to watch them. They were eating something, what, no one knew, but it was enjoyable to watch the hierarchy of the birds take their turn as some would glide in as others would sail away. It was unrecognizable at that distance, but the catch of the day could not be accredited, but to so many, it was a feast. The day was nice, warm but not too hot, just one of those days to get caught up with the chores that were left undone for the last few days, and reacquaint themselves, and also to hear the groundbreaking news from younger brother Andrew. Both cherished days like this.\n\nAndrew had much to say, and Simon was just as eager to hear. Something was stirring intrigue inside of him, and wondered if the Baptist, as told by his brother, was right in that the Messiah _was_ to come and rescue their land. Even though Simon had a wonderful life, being married recently helped to fulfill his seen life; outwardly, things couldn't go better, but on the inside, something was still missing. Emptiness filled the depths of his soul, and he knew the desolation of the man within, for surely his man within had a purpose, but was now emptied with a void. Business was good; his wife was great, lots of friends, but hollowness was felt in the pit of his stomach, especially when things got quiet. So he worked, and work he was good at; successful, he was in every way, except when no one was around but himself. He would often ponder in the afternoons of what he called lazy days, a rainy or wind struck day, he could only do so much, so he meditated on the things of life. Somehow through all his thinking, he'd end up in the same place he had started, a despondency of the richer things of living. He had a wonderful wife, and their relationship was great, but what I'm talking about is that deep lonesomeness that cannot be filled with the stuff seen in this world, a yearning. Simon was not antsy, nor was he looking for adventure, he just knew something was missing, creating this void. With all the stories being told around the country and Andrews' first-hand knowledge, slowly a picture was being formed within him, and the wandering of his mind took him many places.\n\n***********************\n\nA few months later John the Baptist was still drawing people by the droves to the banks of the Jordan River. Some say he was inflicting havoc, others thought him to definitely be a prophet, it depended on whether you were a noble or a common man as to which way you were swayed. But certainly his words were powerful, and many climbed in that river with him. His claim was to prepare a way, a path for the Messiah that He would be welcomed and would walk through. A people readied for the arrival of the soon to be revealed Christ. \"The voice of one crying in the wilderness: Prepare the way of the Lord; Make His path straight.\" People listened, lives were changing, an awakening was happening throughout all of Judea, but as of yet, he had not met the Messiah. The Baptist himself claimed that it was God that created his life for this purpose, and was following the Spirit in every way, and would know the Messiah when that time came.\n\nYes, people were coming from all regions, and the Baptist made quit-a-stir, most were everyday people and were moved to hear this man that certainly was preparing the way of something, for he held nothing back.\n\n\"But when he saw many of the Pharisees coming, he said to them, 'Brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Therefore bare fruits worthy of repentance, (change your way of thinking), and do not think to say to yourselves, we have Abraham as our father. For I say to you that God is able to raise up children to Abraham from these stones... I indeed baptize you with water unto repentance, (to change the way you think), but He who is coming after me is mightier than I, whose sandals I am not worthy to carry, He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and Fire.\" These words were powerful and many took them to heart, but few, if any, completely understood a single one, but they were still hid in the hearts of many of those that were listening. John didn't care what you thought about him, he was raised for a mission, he knew his part, and he spoke with zeal.\n\nIt was not many days later that he met and baptized the Christ of God.\n\n***********************\n\nIn the early days of Jesus' ministry he began to journey north, some month or so after crossing back west from the wilderness on the other side of Jordan, teaching along the way. Soon He found himself in Capernaum, and walking along the shore, sky cloudy, wind blowing, but a good day to travel, he saw two fishermen with their father Jonah, casting a net into the waters of Galilee. As he came closer he said to the younger men; \"follow me, and I will make you become fishers of men.\" And immediately Simon and Andrew looked at their dad, who shrugged his shoulders and then leaving their nets to follow him, asked as he looked upon His being with intrigue; \"What shall we do Lord?\" And he said; \"change the world.\"\n\nSimon had sensed an inner voice that spoke to him from the marrow of his bones, and for some odd reason he knew it was the right thing to follow this man, and he assumed Andrew felt the same. They talked for several hours. Jesus and the brothers, under the shade of the trees that grew within sight of the waters of Galilee; and later that evening, as Simon was taking Jesus to his meet his wife, a stir was heard. It was then, as they approached his home, with the sun over their left shoulders, that his wife came running out to meet him, and in an excited shrill voice, she commenced to telling them about her sick mother.\n\nNow Simon was a hardworking man, he learned this by the labor of fishing with his dad Jonah ever since he could hold an oar at a very young age. Working, and working hard and long, was not one of Simons' problems, but the gnawing from the inside was. Since maybe the age of thirteen he had this gnawing from the inside that there was more to his life than just catching fish, which he dearly loved. He felt something that continued to grow within him, a prickling, that was neither good nor bad, but was unrelenting and nearly constant, a feeling of knowing something that he just didn't quite know. He'd talked with his wife about this several times and he thought that she understood, at least as much as possible. Simon normally really didn't fret over what was going on inside him, but the inner voice, which was a quiet voice, was the steadiness of his life, the part that kept him uniform and grounded to the earth, and knew this time it was to be adhered too. The older of Jonah's sons was a reactor, for he seldom just responded to a situation, he would just plow into a problem and sort it out later, patching together the pieces as he went. This yearning within him would help as a reminder to keep his feet on the ground, which seldom happened, but it helped. Being raised loving the Lord God was established in him from his youth up, and he loved the stories of old, especially the accounts of King David. It was kind of like loving the Lord but not knowing how to love Him.\n\nSo when Jesus came up the shore of Galilee and said follow me, Simon knew, that leaving with this man of authority was what he was supposed to do, and he went with no hesitation.\n\nAfter hearing of her mothers' sickness, Jesus and the young men went straight towards the center of town, and meeting James and John, all followed Him. But first stopped by the synagogue, as that was the direction Jesus led them. It was there that he healed a man of an unclean spirit. It was there that the four were amazed and questioned amongst themselves; \"What is this? What new doctrine is this? He commands even the unclean spirits, and they obey Him.\" And immediately they left the synagogue and went to Simons' mother-in-laws' home, where his wife was already by her side.\n\nAs if Jesus knew exactly what to do He and Simon went straight to the bed side of the ailing mother-in-law. The mother-in-law, not old, but not young by any means, lay nested on a pallet, a stack of various blankets, near the window that had a stretch of cloth draped about it. Having this fervent look about Him, Jesus walked over and took the hand of the older woman and lifted her up, and immediately the fever she had been inflicted with, left her.\n\nNow with all the debate that was going on within Simon these last years, he knew that where he was right now, this place with this man, was where he was supposed to be, and his wife knew it too, that is, that he was to walk with this man Jesus.\n\nIn the months ahead, Simon saw many wonderful, remarkable things happen while walking with this man that was called Jesus. He saw lepers healed, unclean spirits released from several people, he saw the deaf hear, the blind that could now see and he heard many parables and saying that Jesus spoke. Simon spent most of his time with Jesus, but there were times that he would return to his wife, and times that he spent alone. And it was the times walking alone, sometimes by the shore that he noticed that when he was with Jesus, things couldn't be better, but in solitude, he still had that nagging feeling. It was then that he'd decided to spend as much time as he could with this man called Jesus. As long as he was with Jesus, seeing and listening, things in his heart couldn't be better. In the mind of Simon, he'd never heard a man speak as this man did, nor do the miracles that He could do, Simon was certainly where he was supposed to be, and now his wife knew it too, with this man that the Baptist called the Christ, the Messiah of Israel. Was he waking up?\n\nIs my Head above water?\n\nFor the next months, I, Simon, saw many extraordinary things happening while walking with the Lord. I can now call Him that because He has proved himself over and over. I've seen many miracles; lepers healed, the dumb talk, the deaf hear, and the blind healed so they can see, but the strangest of our walking together; were the parables. For I have not met nor heard of a man like this Jesus is. To say it is perplexing would be an understatement, for as different and mysterious as Jesus is, in no way is he outlandish. He has this demeanor about him that is calm, tranquil and very peaceful; a man with the authority of life, a man of knowledge and power, and I loved being around Him. I wanted to listen to Him, and I'd be attentive to all that he said, but I just couldn't grasp the meanings of all these parables that he was telling us. There were twelve of us now walking almost daily with Jesus, three I'd known before, one was my brother Andrew, but the other eight, were new friends to me; I liked them. There were several more that walked with us, as someone new was added every once in a while, and at about the same speed, several would leave, some were even women, but all in all, we were a pretty tight knitted group. A couple of us had what you might call a shady background, one was accused of stealing, one a tax collector, which of some sort means thug, and didn't have much of a reputation, one was even called a whore; myself, well let's just say that quite often they'd ask me to take a bath to wash the years of fishing off me, but like I said, we all got along agreeable with each other.\n\nFor days now the crowds of people were pressing upon us, many great and mysterious works were done by the hand and the words of Jesus. Early one morning Jesus came to where I was sleeping under a small palm, and spoke softly until I awoke. His words were to the effect that we should all leave for the mountains, escape the crowd, and hear the things the Father was giving to Him. So as we all gathered, we walked. The sun was just rising, the air had heaviness to it, and the thirteen of us set out on a journey, that none but our Leader knew.\n\nMy thoughts once again ran rampant, as they usually do, but I did know that this same Jesus could be trusted, and we were becoming pretty good friends. Not knowing what to expect, we all talked amongst ourselves, and came to the agreement that this trip too, would be good. I think each of us understood that being with this man Jesus, was exactly what God had ordained individually for each, and would follow Him in which-ever direction that was asked.\n\nAs the sun rose high in the mid-day sky, we was now climbing up a mountain where the air had sharpness to it, sometimes singing, sometimes discussing, and at times quiet, but always following. For where else could a man go and hear the things of God unless he followed this man called Jesus. After several more hours of climbing up narrow paths, around great boulders, and through brush that would take the hide off one's shins, He thought it was time to take a rest, so finding shade and a nice place to sit we stopped for what we thought was going to be a few minutes, an hour at most. After nestling in the tall grasses and relaxing under the blue of the sky, we noticed down the hill, not far, was a multitude coming up the same path we had taken.\n\nJesus, standing just feet below us, spoke that this is a time to pay attention, open our ears and hear these things of the Father, and took a seat on a large rock that was rounded on the edges from the eons of weather. As the crowd grew closer, I slide down the side of that mountain to set beside Him, the others found places close enough that they could hear, even if He spoke in His normal soft voice.\n\nAnd He began to speak about the blessed poor, the blessed that mourn, the blessed who are merciful, and several others that were blessed, and all that He said was beautiful. It felt like I understood what was said, but truth is; I didn't. At the beginning I'd think that He was speaking about how blessed it was to be poor, sad, and so-on, but years later, remembering all that was said, I understood more fully the deeper meaning of the sayings. The poor in spirit and the sad (those that mourn), were those that were not rich in the things and ideas of this world nor did they take stock in what this world offered, and have gone against their natural self. The sad, well, were not mourning because they left the old-man behind, but because many didn't. The Spirit wars against the flesh, and at the beginning of transformation the flesh man mourns. Even when Jesus would speak of adultery, in the early years I was thinking he spoke of carnal knowledge, He did not; the words were given to us that all would take heed before placing man or object, or even a person before the Lord God. I'm not sure if I was the only one that didn't get it right-away from the start, but I think the others had problems in this area also.\n\nTo bring this point across so you will understand, reflecting back, of how me and the other eleven disciples comprehended, or should I say looked foolish in our misunderstanding, let's talk a little about the parable of casting a net into the sea and the gathering of every kind.\n\nIt is written: \"Again the kingdom of God is like a drag net that was cast into the sea and gathered some of every kind, which, when it was full they drew to shore; and they sat down and gathered the good into vessels, but threw the bad away. So it will be at the end of the age. The angels will come forth, separate the wicked from among the just, and cast them into the furnace of fire. There will be wailing and gnashing of teeth.\" (Matthew thirteen) We listened, and listened intently, glued to each word as it proceeded out of Jesus' mouth, I was even watching as His lips were moving, wanting to grasp every word and its' meaning, and when He'd finished, I thought that I would have absorbed the meaning, but understood nothing. Now if this wasn't bad enough, and since He knew our thoughts, Jesus turned around, looked straight at me and said: \"Have you understood all these things?\"\n\nAll of us said in unison; \"Yes Lord.\" But dumb me; I had to say it the loudest. I didn't have a clue of what Jesus said, I knew the words, but not even a trace of value was apprehended by them. I was either bluffing or completely bedazzled, for yes I answered 'yes', but the parable sounded too cruel to be what I thought He was saying, but didn't want to look stupid, and stupid I was.\n\nThen Jesus said to us, in a nice way, to prove we were all wrong in our answer: \"Therefore every scribe instructed concerning the kingdom of Heaven is like a householder who brings out of his treasure, new and old.\"\n\nAll of us were, as yet, thinking through our senses; all had a carnal mind that wasn't able as yet to understand the deeper or higher meaning of His parables. And He flat out told us that we were trying to mix His new way of thinking with our old ways, it wasn't going to work. The wicked and the just that are among us, in the parable, was speaking of my way of thinking. How man tries to combine the 'good and evil' and put it into the same basket. It can't be done, nor can you pour new wine in an old wine skin, it just won't work. The mixing of the thoughts that I had, was keeping me tied to this earth and its' way of thinking. I didn't understand this then, for as yet I hadn't received the power of the Holy Spirit. So looking back, I can now see why those that are blessed and mourn, (wailing and gnashing) are truly blessed, for they have come to the level that separation of the meaning of the 'senses', and meaning of the 'Kingdom of Heaven thoughts', are on two completely different levels, and cannot be combined. The different fish, that were lined up and sorted, (the good and wicked), are the same aspects of the same person, (the understanding of the Spirit, and the understanding of the flesh), is that war that goes on in each of us. And this combination won't work, for to grow to a higher level of Life; has to be 'rightly divided'.\n\nAnyway, this was a time in my life, the beginning, for me to come to understand just how much I didn't understand, nor did we comprehend but a little, if any, of the teachings that Jesus gave to us these past months, even for years. Little did I know then that all that was spoken, all the parables, even all that He did was to give us an identity of himself, and a route to follow to the apprehension of thinking, believing in this new way. For Jesus alone is the Way, that leads to Truth, that leads to Life.\n\nI was so caught up in the things of my life, and the world, and especially the miracles that were done often before me that I hadn't stopped long enough to truly try to understand the meanings that Jesus taught. It was one day, sunny and bright, and we'd just got through talking with some of the Sadducees, walking in the region of Caesarea Philippi, when Jesus asked us; \"Who do men say that I, the Son of man, am?\"\n\nOne of us heard that he was John the Baptist; another heard someone call Him Elijah, even the prophet Jeremiah or one of the others were named.\n\nWe, the disciples, had talked about this several times amongst ourselves and none of us could really come up with an answer, so we all just answered in the way He asked; and that was, what others said. Then out of the blue, point-blank, He asked us who did we say that He is? Without discernment, without meditation what-so-ever, and also without my brain being involved, I said; \"You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.\"\n\nNow where did that come from, I was thinking rapidly in my mind, it makes sense, I thought, but at this point, I really didn't know that statement to be true, so I guess I spoke a little too quickly. But immediately Jesus came back and answered to me and said that I was blessed and that; \"flesh and blood had not revealed this to me.\" With quick deliberation, I said to myself, you got that right, but before I could finish my thoughts He continued; \"but my Father, who is in Heaven, has revealed this to you...\"\n\nWow! This is pretty good, I'd done something right, I thought, still not listening to Him very closely, and he uninterrupted said; \"...you are Peter and upon this rock I shall build my Church.\" And He would give me the keys of the Kingdom of Heaven, and I could bind or loose anything I wanted in Heaven or on earth.\n\nLet me stop here a moment and tell you that I Simon, I mean Peter was on top of the world, I was the big man now and was given that title by the man in authority. I'd so often wondered whether I was top ranked in this group of twelve, and now I know that I was. I was to lead the other eleven by example, I was no longer a misfit, but a man with responsibility, and He said He was going to build something on me, now that part I didn't quite get.\n\nIt wasn't but a few moments later that Jesus began telling us that He must suffer many things, and be rejected by the elders, chief priests, and the scribes, and then be killed. Now wait a minute, I was thinking again; I'm not going to let this happen, not to this man, He is the Christ of God, and it was my responsibility and obligation, since I was the leader of the others, to not let this happen as long as I have the power to stop it, and I have the power, or so I thought. So as leader of the twelve, I took Jesus to the side and told Him that I would never let this happen, and that I would never let anything bad, much less this ever happen to Him.\n\nJesus turned around, looked at the other eleven and then looked straight at me and rebuked me, right in front of all that were watching, and all of them were watching. Saying; \"get behind me satan, for you are not mindful of the things of God, but only of the things of man.\"\n\nAt that time in my life I was only mindful of the goals that I had in life, and mostly of the things that I could see. As long as I was with this man Jesus, and seeing all that He's done, and hearing all that He spoke, things would go well. By well I mean, that I thought I was on top. When I had to go home for a while, or Jesus would go someplace by himself, and no one was around me, I'd even doubt what I saw, and especially be confused about what He said. But up close and when we were personal, I had the bull by the horns, I'd feel the power of His presence, but not in His absence. When Jesus wasn't with us, and mostly when He wasn't with me, I couldn't hang on to the Truth if my life depended on it, except in rare occasions.\n\nWhen Jesus asked; who do we say He is, and I announced His authority, it was as if something had taken a hold on me, and proclaimed it through my voice. I, at that moment, slipped out of my skin, and without thinking made that proclamation. And saying the right thing, at the right time, went to my head and I was swelled with gloat. So, being proud of myself, and as He continued talking with us about His upcoming persecution and death, I thought it appropriate to make sure all knew that I would defend Him with all my flesh. Yes, you heard me correct, my pride and flesh was right where it always is, in the wide open, and this time everybody saw that I was a fool, for there was no escaping the reprimand that was given, and I thought to me, with the reference to satan. It hurt, and it hurt badly, for I was humiliated, but later in my life this disproval would teach me something that would help shape my life forever.\n\n************************\n\nThere were more than a few, what we might call failures, in my life, and really they are not classified as bad or wrong, it's just back then I saw things literally. I had known of nothing different than the carnal ways of man, it was my eyes that kept getting in the way of me seeing. What little training that I did have was an extension of the teachings from the Scribes, Pharisees, and the Priest of the Temple and the synagogue, for they taught the precise, literal laws of Moses. In fact when we were told not to go more than fourteen furlongs on the Sabbath, it was fourteen furlongs, and not one step farther, not one inch more could we go even if we had to go hungry knowing our next meal was only feet away. But, you know, I really didn't hold to all that teaching, that is unless someone was looking, but I went along with it most of the time, I guess to keep peace.\n\nAnyway, back then, before the indwelling of the Holy Ghost, I saw and heard things pretty much the way they were outwardly, you know, with my flesh senses.\n\nA few days after Jesus was walking and talking with us and about, that some of us would not taste death till the Kingdom of God is revealed, He took James, John and myself up on a high mountain. He was transfigured right in front of us, I mean everything about Him had changed, it was like He was transparent, and His face shone like the sun, and His clothes were white like new fallen snow, only brighter. Behold, there appeared two men, and all three were talking to one another; both were speaking in a quiet voice to Jesus. It was then that I approached them, little did I know and little did I accomplish, for all I could see was that their voices and appearances were like bright clouds, very bright clouds, but I knew something of significance was happening; and I wanted involved. There before me was my Lord and Moses and Elijah, all translucent, and I felt I had to do something to show leadership in front of the others, so I spoke. \"Lord, our Rabbi, it is good for us to be here; and let us make three tabernacles: one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.\" I said this because I didn't know what to say and certainly didn't have a clue as to what to do, for the fear that surged up inside me was great, and I honestly didn't know what to do, so I did what was always standard in my life; I opened my mouth.\n\nIt was then that a cloud came and overshadowed us, and a voice came from that cloud speaking; \"This is My beloved Son, hear Him.\" If I wasn't afraid before, and I was, it was a guarantee that fear had a hold of me now, and I think the others also. One might think us to be dreaming, but on this beautiful sun shining day, this wasn't the case. James looked at John, then at me, John seemed bewildered, and I had this expression of amazement, for what took place, we didn't know, but it was real, more real than our own being. As we stood in a stupor, looking this way and then that, all we could see was ourselves and Jesus as He normally is.\n\nStanding there in a half daze for more than a few minutes, without a word we all began to walk down that mountain. Maybe a half hour later, while still walking down hill , we talked with Jesus about Elijah, but even that conversation didn't make a lot of sense to any of us disciples. This was a time of significance and I missed it; or so I thought.\n\nAll twelve of us were close at this time, and truly enjoyed each other's company; we were working as a single unit, and even though we didn't realize it at this time, had not developed inwardly to the level that would only come later. The closeness we had was an advantage to all of us, at least the three of us could speak to one another openly; and that was a certainly a comfort.\n\n*************************\n\nThese episodes about fighting the flesh, in my carnal way of thinking, reminds me of the time when Jesus wanted to be alone in the mountains, and sent the twelve of us on a ship to cross the sea and wait for Him there. Often he spent time alone, but not for long periods of time.\n\nWe had just gotten through feeding well over five thousand with the smallest amount of food, and my thoughts were running deep. So I thought, and as the group of us had just about reached the mid-point of the waters, somewhere around midnight, a couple of the disciples saw Him walking toward us on the waters of the sea. Some thought Him to be a ghost, but I didn't really know what to make of it, but it was troubling. As Jesus yelled across the open water, it was then we realized for certain who He was, and wanting again to be the big-shot, and with a feeling of desire to please Him, I bid Him to let me come to where He was, and both could then walk to the ship together.\n\nJesus responded; \"Come.\"\n\nWith Jesus less than a hundred feet away, with a moonlit night, I could clearly see Him as He paused and waited on me. I was feeling good about this, and had no doubt that I too could walk across the water. The moon behind Him in the clear sky, the sparkles from it on the water, my eyes were adjusted to the darkness, and I could clearly see; I was focused. And as I come down from the boat, and stepping upon the water, it held me up, just as it has done Him.\n\nIf this didn't prove that I was the other elevens' leader, I surely wouldn't know what it would take, so I walked. Yes, right there in front of all, I walked across that water focused on Jesus, and heading straight toward Him. In a few moments the wind began to blow, I really don't know how hard, but hard enough to make some pretty good size waves. Looking at the waves I became afraid, and began to sink. What was I to do, a storm in progress, my Lord still some fifty or so feet in front of me, what was I to do? I didn't even have time to think that the men that depended on me were watching, I cried out. The sound that came from my mouth sounded more like a shrill than it did coming from a grown man, I panicked, and I was looking in every direction but at Him, but knew to call out or drown. \"Help me lord\", was all that I could get my voice to say, but it was enough. He led and helped me back on the boat and we carried on toward the other shore.\n\nIt began to barely penetrate that I was not as strong as maybe I was thinking, maybe not the man for this position; maybe I wasn't even supposed to be here. But as we sailed toward the eastern coast, not a word of humiliation was spoken, in fact, all talked and scuffled around the boat as if nothing unusual had happened; but I went inside myself. My intensions were good, I felt, at times, I was up for the job, and I knew I loved this man called the Christ of God, but when He wasn't around, I didn't do so good.\n\nLooking back at this and several other situations, knowing what I now know, I understood that I knew Jesus in the flesh, I knew Him in my mind, and always knew that as long as He was close by, everything was going to be alright, but on my own, not so much. We were connected, and this I knew, but in the puberty of being transformed; I struggled. As long as I walked with Him, and my eyes were fixed on His presence, I believed, as long as I did not look to the left, nor to the right; I could sustain.\n\nAll the emptiness, the deep void in my life, and the lack of purpose were well remembered, for I had carried them for so many years, and still did to some degree, for these few years; but when I am with this man, all my life, my soul, had a meaning that I certainly was not willing to walk away from, for I needed this man Jesus. I had a fulfillment with Him that cannot be expressed, and my hope was that this relationship with Him would never end. For many times I had felt like a man in the vast ocean, swimming as if my life depended on it, as if I would drown at any moment, but now, it's like I keeping my head above the waters. Life began to have meaning. I even knew then that much more was yet to come, and wanted to absorb all of this Christ that my being would soak in, and what would lie ahead of me?, I had the faintest clue, but from somewhere within, I knew it was coming. The Spirit within was speaking unto me; but my listening skills, weren't that acute.\n\nI don't know or Do I\n\nIn all the years of listening to the Lord speak, and all the times that He held my deepest attention, it took a long time to realize that Jesus' words were all in parables. Yes, that language that many knew, but not everyone spoke in, the language of symbols and allegories. For many times He would speak to us and the multitudes, with this mysterious language, and all listened intently, and maybe even occasionally understood, but for the most part we didn't, at least at this time in our lives. I now know, this many years later, that to grasp the deepest of value from the many parables that Jesus spoke, one had to go beyond the surface of the sheep, the vine in the vineyard, the blindness, the halt, the marriage, and even the little children to comprehend, much less apprehend the truest of meaning. The art and gift of the parables go far beyond the surface values of the subject, because they spoke about the meanings of what they represented. But back then, I pretended my way through it, but understood little; never-the-less it was printed on and in my heart; I would always remember.\n\nKnowing our thoughts, and the confusion I think most of us had, Jesus again began teaching in parables.\n\n\"No one puts a piece from a new garment on an old one; otherwise the new makes a tear, and also the piece that was taken out of the new does not match the old. And no one puts new wine into old wineskins; or else the new wine will burst the wineskin and be spilled, and the wineskin will be ruined. But new wine must be put into new wineskins, and both are preserved And no one having drank old wine, immediately desires new; for he says, 'the old is better.'\" Luke 5:37\n\nLet's look at this and see if we can make anything of it. If the parable is truly about wine, and new and old bottles that it's put in, then we get this small lesson of how to make wine without it spoiling. And if this is all we can ever decipher from it, then why did God waste our time placing it in the mouth of Him that proclaims His true eternal Word; but it isn't. A life-changing meaning is attached to each and every parable, once it's understood, but back then, I didn't understand.\n\nVineyards are always in the ancient language of parables representing schools, or a school-of-thought, therefore grapes that grow on the vine are the product, or fruit of the school-of-thought, and turned into wine, the final product and purpose. Wineskins or bottles are the vessel in which the final product is to be placed in; us. Not just people, but those that think on a higher level of thinking, but not to those that maintain their lower level of thinking.\n\nRemember that John the Baptist came preparing a way for the Lord, and called us into repentance, which is to say: a changed way of thinking, this is exactly what repentance means. So we either continue thinking through our carnal, sensual mind, or we allow Spirit to transform us into a new wineskin, a new vessel to receive this new Way, Truth, and Life that Jesus is talking about in this parable. This is a completely different way of thinking.\n\nThe same thing is equated when speaking of the rent garment. To embed or sew a new piece of material onto an old garment, will in the first place be a waste of the new, and in the second it will never match. The new patch is stronger, so different, that it will make the old garment rip up anyway, and much quicker. Again we, that is our way of thinking, are either on the earth level, the sensual minded; or on the heaven level, the things of Spirit. The parables therefore is given that those of us that are satisfied where we are, will never understand the higher levels of God and His word, but those of us that yearn for a deeper walk, a meaningful relationship with the Father will open themselves to allow the Spirit to renovate us within. Man can't figure this out on his own, nor will studying give him an understanding, but we can open our man within to receive the teachings of the Holy Spirit. We can allow Him to completely change our way of thinking; repent.\n\n\"And no one, having drank the old wine, immediately desires the new.\" Barring none; all of us have drank the old wine, the old school of thought, and has readily accepted it as being true and right. Therefore, when Jesus came with this new wine; the barriers of the carnal way of thinking had to be broken. So He spoke in parables. Giving those that are still attached to this world, and what it pretends to offer, even those still involved in the laws of Moses, a means to continue to understand only though their flesh. But those that seek a much deeper value in life, become, by God, a new creature, a new creation, a new wine vessel ready to receive His new wine. We are not reformed into a new wine skin, but though the transformation of God within each; are created.\n\nHaving walked side by side with Jesus, you'd think that I would have understood all He said and did, but by no stretch of the mind did I. In writing these memoirs I am now in my old age, and looking back I can see clearly who and what I was. At this age of sixty-four, and having gone through the whole process of my growing and understanding, it is unmistakable evidence from the trials and tribulations that I Peter was destined to go through, that growth, at least for me, had to be achieved. There were times the sun would shower us with its' warmth and beauty, yet I would still be cold and miserable, and the rainy days, when we were wet and soaked, I might have felt energetic and full of joy. For in these early days, that is my walk with Jesus, I knew very little about things of the Spirit, but with reason. At this time in my life I was really not a hot head, but I did have a tenancy to speak quickly, that is, before I thought anything through, and there were struggles because of this. So reminiscing with you through this epistle is not meant to justify myself, but to explain that thinking through the carnal mind about the things of God, just won't work. During the years of my thirties, at least the first part of them, it was my senses, the eyes and ears and so on, that did my thinking for me, that was a mistake, but then again, I'd not as yet received the Spirit.\n\n*************************\n\nIt was not long after our experience of walking on the water, and many a wonderful days together, we were all sitting one night under the waning moon just talking about one thing and then another. The night was cool, and this night, the stars were in greater abundance, we all had gathered around a small fire as one would do on a special outing, the mood cheerful, everyone rested, we sat and talked for hours. We were discussing several of the topics brought up by Jesus in the past weeks, such as the mustard seed, the trees and their fruits, and the little girl that was restored. But the subject that caught my attention and wanting to talk about was; that Jesus said he came not to bring peace.\n\nNow I knew of the talk all over the region, and my feelings on this subject of the King of Israel, but didn't as yet understand how He was going to rule over our nation. I'd heard loud and clear that He came not to bring peace, but a sword, and wanting a few more details, I asked Him to speak on this. For to set father against son, and mother against daughter and so on, it seemed like a real full blown battle was to take place. Even though Jesus elaborated on this privately in detail, it still took well over a year for me to understand this warfare. I didn't get the tone of His conversations, none of them, at the time it was going on, but all the sayings, and all the doings were hid in my heart until I was readied to grasp them in some detail.\n\nCome to find out, the sword and all the dividing was really not about fighting Romans, nor any that wanted our country for themselves, nor about the soldier king that most were praying for. For it was taught by most of the elders that the coming messiah was to rule severely as king from a military platform, conquering the Romans back into their place.\n\nThe father and mother were the inside of man, flesh, the teacher of carnal knowledge, the keeper of the material world. The old man that doesn't want to let go, our past that is addicted to this world and the façade that it claims is real. Therefore the father of carnal man becomes at odds with the Son of Spirit, \"and his enemies will be those of his own household\". Both father and son, or mother and daughter, and so-on, dwell in the same person, the same household, until Gods' transformation is complete; therefore causing turmoil within, or division. Jesus came to bring that sword of division to separate the carnal from the Spirit.\n\nThe sword is Truth and Spirit, the divider of the Real from that which just seems real. This same sword, I came to find out, that cuts in both directions, is a good thing. For without the cutting, man would be lost in himself, no place or direction of his own accord would bring him into the mind of Christ, only Spirit can do that. The sword can cut, to those that seek Truth, the gulf that lies between the Spirit that dwells within, and the fleshly approach that carnal man views things from through his darkened eyes.\n\nSo will there be peace on earth in the flesh man when this division is taking place in the individual; no, not on the earth man, but it will begin inside of the Man that it is taking place in; the transformed creation of Gods' work, the inner man. The sword of division should be welcomed, but seldom is.\n\nI struggled many times while walking with and listen to Jesus. And I also know that several of the other disciples, especially Matthew and Judas, did some struggling about understanding the symbols also. We were torn, and this new way of thinking didn't take within us at the beginning, but Jesus was patient, and His longsuffering toward our reluctance to change was incredible.\n\nJesus wasn't with us all of the time, for He too had things that had to be done. There was time taken, occasionally, when He would spend time with His family, and especially with His friend Lazarus. So it was at these times that the twelve of us would acquaint ourselves further with each other, and often discuss these matters to obtain clarity, which seldom happened.\n\nIt was one morning, early, and the sun had rose a crimson red, with streaks of yellow and pink in the curly clouds that covered only the eastern half of the sky, when James , John and Nathanael were cutting up with each other over cooking breakfast. The rest of us were still asleep, that is, all but me, for I usually lay quiet in my bed roll for an hour or so before stirring. This is my time to think, and thinking on the things that were happening in my life, was what mornings are for. But the ruckus going on between the two trees where the fire was built was more than a sleepy body, much less one contemplating, could handle, so I went over to see what all the shrieks and scrambling was about.\n\nShould it be flat bread or some with a little leaven? They were teasing each other in fun, for none would really care, but the tossing of the flour back and forth and the mess it made was what all the shrills were about. All three were covered in the white dust, and James, with only his eyes revealed under it, sought to make his brother look the same.\n\nUsually after we ate, all would sit and toss back and forth the sayings and doings of our leader, trying to make practical sense out of the many things said, and the healings that were taking place where ever we went with Jesus. We talked amongst ourselves what it meant to worship in Spirit, what He meant when telling us that He is the living Bread, how He would heal a man that was blind or had a withered arm, but on this day the conversation meandered to the overturning of the Temple.\n\nAlthough I grew up close and around the Synagogue, and went to the Temple on many occasions, I wasn't stuck in their rituals and laws like many were, but I knew their traditions. On this particular day, not so long ago, Jesus had an issue with the people that were selling goats, sheep, oxen and doves at the Temple that our group was passing by, and I strained to understand the heart felt anger that he had. This had been going on all through my life and really didn't see anything out of the ordinary, but evidently He did. So, this day, after the younger boys got through with their horsing around, I attempted to turn the subject to the men changing the money in the Temple. Matthew said that since he had made his living handling money, and grasping what he could in his walk with the Lord, he thought maybe the business should have been done outside the walls. Another argued that by rights they were allowed to do business in the temple and didn't understand the commotion. Me, the one that's usually quick to speak, said that I thought it was the manure that shouldn't have been there, but at this point, anything the Lord did, had to be right. But after some few hours of discussing and debating, we finally figured out the house of God was a place of worship and not that of entertainment, nor of making money. So then the things of God really didn't pertain to money in the first place, and turning everything upside down must have been His disapproval of those that had made His Fathers' house, a den of thieves, and Philip spoke up and said that that makes sense because they pilfered the attention that is supposed to go to God and put it on the animals and money, the things of this earth. But again, later in life, I again saw that the turmoil of the temple was man within himself being divided, rightly being separated. And we are that temple of God in which Jesus came to bring division, so each could establish our rightful relationship with the Father, and not of that made of stone, nor by the hand of man.\n\nAnyway, this is how it went many of the days that we were in wait for Jesus' return, and sometimes we might have even saw through a few of the happenings. We'd all become close friends and enjoyed immensely each day that we had a chance to spend with each other in the Lord, but our growth, at this point was slow..\n\nIt took us, especially me, several years to grasp that we were with Jesus to learn, and that coming up with solutions was not why we were following Him. The times that one of us would speak up clarifications with of our daily happenings and position our self to act as if we really knew; we would then, most of the time, and with the gentleness of a lamb, be set back on our heels, for our understandings were limited by the carnal, earthly way we were thinking.\n\nWhere did He go and why\n\nNow it was on a day that the twelve of us were on our way to Jerusalem, that He took me to the side and said: \"Simon Peter, listen to what is going on in the days ahead, I have prayed for you, and you will be alright.\"\n\nAt this time we were all much closer to the Lord than we had been in previous years, and I still wasn't sure if calling me to the side was a reprimand or that I might still be the favorite disciple of Jesus', but in the days to come, it had become very obvious.\n\nIt had taken more than a few days to travel to the holy city, and on this particular day, with the sky portrayed in two-tones of gray, and the mountains barely visible because of the humidity hanging in the air; that it began to rain. It seemed down-hill to Jerusalem, and as the sands were saturated, the smooth rocks slippery, it was not an easy task to travel by day, and on occasion we walked at night. There was no thunder, but the sky seemed dark enough to have it, for one couldn't tell what position the sun was in, so the time of day only had to be guessed at.\n\nHe had begun to speak with us in a different way. His tone was different, but the same, His demeanor was slightly altered, but then again, it was just like Jesus. Anyway, I thought something was different, but couldn't really tell what it was. Judas and I were close friends, and he thought that he too saw a variance in His manner, but like me, couldn't put his finger on it.\n\nAfter two or three more hours of walking, still traveling down-hill and still raining, and just before we were to enter into the flat country, Jesus asked if we would like to stop at this out-cropping ledge of a cliff, maybe some fifteen feet tall. It was like a cave, and probably had not rained inside of it in the eons of time, so all set and rested next to a small spring that seeped from the rocks. It had eroded out a small bowl shape where the water was trapped before running off down the cliff, where it seemed to evaporate to nothing before reaching the bottom, for there was no sign of a trail imprinted into the ground. After a short period He again continued speaking to us about the days to come. He spoke of love, joy, hatred from the world, He spoke again on the true vine, but what caught my attention the most was when He talked of the Helper, the Comforter that is to come.\n\nJesus talked and it made sense, but I continued to struggle in my understanding of what he was referring to. The commotion of my confusion kept going on in my head, and many times wanted Him to clarify, but again, it was like I did understand. And, in truth, I didn't. Thinking Jesus was our helper, but He spoke of another. What could this mean? I kept asking myself, were we to have this man and maybe another leader also? Anyway, my mind was going in circles and going fast.\n\n\"But when the Helper comes, whom I shall send to you from the Father, the Spirit of Truth who proceeds from the Father, He will testify of me. And you also will bear witness, because you have been with me from the beginning. They will put you out of the assemblies; yes the time is coming...\"\n\nSince my youth I had always waited on the king (the messiah), and his army to come to Judea and conquer the Romans, and thought maybe this is what was being spoken about in referring to the helper. And again Jesus spoke.\n\n\"A little while, and you will not see me, and again a little while you will see me, because I go to the Father.\" And again we talked amongst ourselves of what He meant by a 'little while'. The looks that we gave one another went from a down-cast expression of bewilderment to a hope of better things coming. As for me, I was sticking with the theory of putting together an army. But what he explained, nobody knew. Yes, no one knew what these words meant, but again, we were afraid to ask.\n\n\"Are you inquiring amongst yourselves of what I said? Most assuredly I say to you, that you will weep and lament, but the world will rejoice.\"\n\nIf He thought that He was clarifying; He wasn't. This seemed to only bring about a greater misunderstanding, we, especially me, didn't have clue of what He was talking about, but all knew it was to be important. By this time in our conversation it wasn't looking as if making war with an army against the Romans was what was being talked about, but who knows? I stuck with my theory.\n\nI loved this man, and my affection toward Him cannot be understood nor explained, it was real. Something about the way He could hold my attention, it felt like power was in His words, and I was glued to His very being. I seemed to be getting closer in our relationship, and somehow knew that the time of understanding would come, and I was going to be there. Struggles was not something new to me, for all my life I had to work at what was wanted, and as a surety, I wasn't going to quit on this opportunity to find that inner peace that was ever longed for.\n\nAs long as I continued to be within reach of Jesus, it seemed to go well, that is as long as I kept my mouth shut. But when he didn't walk among us, or was out of reach, even for a moment, things didn't really go that well.\n\nThe next morning the rain had stopped, but the clouds still hung low. The air was filled with a mist that one could not tell where the sky had ended and the mountains began. There was a heaviness in the air, but more than normal, the birds were singing and the many critters were shuffling to and fro, but we all, at a slow pace continued to the holy city.\n\nHe said things that weren't spoken before, and none of us was accustomed in thinking in that direction, but we all knew He had something to say, and I wanted to be close by. He spoke of 'good times' ahead, but there was to be several periods of 'course times' ahead also. I thought I was ready for anything that could be thrown at me, and wanted desperately to grow and understand, and knew that this man Jesus had the answer. This seemed to be the fulfillment of the void that continuously filled my soul from my early days as a youth. So one part of me was still bewildered, but the other side of me, was excited to be set free.\n\nIn the days and weeks, past and present, after hearing Jesus talk on many subjects such as the Way, Truth and Life, the indwelling of the Father within us, the promise of the helper, love and joy, and so many other matters, He then mostly consulted on going to Jerusalem and the hatred many had towards Him. This was a time I think he wanted all of us to be near Him, for His demeanor was changing, not that anything was wrong, but there was a sort of sadness in the air, but it was still pleasant to be around Him, only a slight notice of change was detected. At one time we were told that all of us were to be scattered, and that didn't sit very well, but Jesus spent a lot of His time expressing great love for us, and the several others that followed, so we were not worried a great deal, but still concerned.\n\nWe still had no real Idea of what was to happen, especially me, but because of the love from this man, and genuine caring that flowed from Him, we were all becoming more and more attached and devoted. Calling us disciples was a true statement, for in every sense of the word, we were students.\n\nAll day we had been walking towards Jerusalem, and now it was dark as we came to the very outskirts of the city. The rain had long stopped, the air was crisp; the stars out in exceptional beauty, and the flicker of light could be seen in the city on occasion, depending how you moved your head, as we set to rest. Matthew had built a small fire, flat bread was all we had left to eat, but it was enough. The ground was smooth with only an infrequent clump of grasses, and a sporadic cedar tree here and there, and the atmosphere was somber, but all of us rested while listening about the things that are to come. Jesus spoke about the hatred that the world has toward him, as they, in their lack of understanding and indifference in accepting Him, but those that could hear, with ears that could hear, would know Him in all truth when the comforter came, and He continued to teach us of the soon coming Holy Spirit.\n\nYou'd think by now that I could have had at least a small smidgen of understanding about the Holy Spirit, but in truth, I did not. I knew that spirit was an unknown force, but had no perception of who or what the Holy Spirit was, especially acceptance of an indwelling Spirit. Sometimes I'd look at one of the others and shrug my shoulders, and at other times one or two of them would look at me and do the same. It was obvious none of us comprehended what was said, and I know for a fact I didn't, but something was penetrating in the depth of my soul, maybe even deeper than that, that the acceptance of the impression given to us hid within.\n\nThere were many moments of silence, I think to give us time to digest this new information, and not always was this time spent meditating. We were men, we were somber, and all wanted to understand, but at times I caught myself watching shooting stars rather than contemplating on these true meanings.\n\nAs the waxing moon just began to break the horizon in the east, all was quiet, and we settled in for a nights rest.\n\nIt was early on a Tuesday when all awoke and began to stir, for this was the day before, the season of Passover, and I asked him how and where we were to prepare. For now, in early spring, was the time that all the Jews prepared for the yearly High Sabbath, it was this time they celebrated the Sabbath twice in the same week. Maybe I wasn't exact on my attendance on the everyday affairs of the temple and all the rites of our fathers, but Passover was one event that was never missed.\n\nAs we continued walking at a slow pace I could tell that Jesus' demeanor was once again deepening, for there were times when a small trickle of a tear could be seen sliding down His face. He resumed His teaching us in parables, and once in a while another was healed; but still, we had little if any appreciation of what He spoke concerning this trip into Jerusalem.\n\nThe Passover room was supplied and prepared, and I was somewhat looking forward to this time of feast with Him. Not long after we'd all gathered, while Judas and I speculated on the events that would happen, Jesus too came and sat, but had another worried look on His face, but He was smiling at each of us, and gave hugs to all. The person that Jesus is, will not, and cannot ever change, he may show concern, but His direction never alters.\n\nIt wasn't all that long into the supper that he said one of us would betray Him, and now the twelve of us had a look of stupor written in our faces. I was, or so I thought, a strong man, a man in the making, but also realized that I had good intentions but at times couldn't back them up. The depth of His words cut deep inside of me, and I was surely worried that maybe I was the one that could betray Him. Thoughts ran profound, as I searched within to see if I could do such of a thing like this, it was unsettling. More than once I had stuck my own foot down my throat, and it wasn't going to happen again, so after a song was sung and things got a little quieter, I said to Him privately: \"Even if all are made to stumble, yet I will not.\"\n\nI said this, not that I really believed it, but in hopes of speaking the proclamation; that I would believe. He smiled real big, put His arm across both of my shoulders, pulled me up close and said; assuredly, on this night, that I would deny Him three times before the morning cock shall crow. It was evident that Jesus loved me, even with the pain showing in His facial expression, he genuinely cared, and that was obvious.\n\nLooking Christ straight in the eye, all I could do was weep. With no understanding of why I would deny Him, that was out of my range of thinking, and I didn't, in the least bit, at this point, believe that would happen. My friend Judas had left us a little earlier, I heard the Lord telling him to get the job done quickly, and he then rushed off. Maybe I had a thought of also leaving, but instead joined the others. There wasn't much laughter at this point, but each had his own opinion of the seriousness of the evening, and again, no consensus was derived so we each settled in to a melancholy of watching the fire as it burned in the pit.\n\nIt was some time later that Jesus came and asked all to go with Him to the garden and pray. Without a word spoken, our little group stood and walked out through the night air. It was still cool for this time of the year, the air still, and a ripple of clouds could be seen from the near-full moon in the sky overhead. We walked, it wasn't far, and not a word did any speak, until Jesus asked us to sit, but He took the two sons of Zebedee and me to walk a little farther with Him. It was not far and we were just out of sight of the others when Jesus stopped and said with a crackling voice of someone in great distress; \"My soul is exceedingly sorrowful, stay here and watch\", and He slowly walked a distance beyond the trees. We three sat, me leaning against a sycamore tree that had grown at about a thirty degree slant toward the dark of the night, and James and John rested with their backs against a large smooth boulder. The long miles each had walked these past weeks was taxing to each of us, the tiredness went all the way to the bone, so leaning back resting and the quiet of the early evening took its' toll in the form of sleep.\n\nIt didn't seem long before Jesus had returned and tap my feet to wake me up; \"are you sleeping? Could not you even stay awake and watch one hour? Watch and pray, for your spirit is willing, but not your flesh.\" This was spoken to me, for John and Andrew were still asleep sitting on the ground, legs stretched, and leaning against the large rocks. It was sometime later that small sounds were heard, and once I even thought that my name was called, but sleep was heavy upon me, and maybe it was just a dream, if in fact He did return, I wouldn't have known. But again, I heard the same small sounds, and the same voice whispering my name, and although sleep was still weighty upon me, I opened my eyes to see, if indeed, I was a dreaming, but instead Jesus stood before me. He was standing almost straddling my legs, His arms folded across His chest, and His face wet with tears, and trickles of what looked as blood on the robe beneath His chin, and He spoke in a much louder voice. \"Are you all still sleeping?\" He said loud enough to wake up the three of us and maybe anyone else that was within a stones' throw. \"Rise, let us be going, see, I have been betrayed.\"\n\nNow, the way I see it, is that the twelve of us, a couple more of the long time followers, had become very close in heart and soul, maybe call us best of friends. And, at this point thought that perhaps I still might be the leader of the group of us, but was having serious doubts, but couldn't shake off the time that He looked me straight in the eye and said; \"Peter, follow me.\" That was a look and feeling that had never possessed me 'til that day, and I'll never forget the power in it. So though doubtful, I still attempted to maintain my being as a leader. Judas Iscariot and I had become very close friends, as close as James and John were, which I had known most of my life, and thought Judas to be next in line as the leader of the twelve, in the case I failed. At this time and place in the middle of the night, Judas still had not come back, and was thinking at this point that I wished him to be with us. If Jesus is going to be betrayed, we all had to stand together, the twelve as one.\n\nThe morning Rooster\n\nThe other eight, that were down the hill from us, heard the authority in Jesus' voice and came running up to us to find out what trouble had befallen. And had found us with Jesus watching as torches, many of them, were marching up the hill in a single row that had the look of lanterns lined up as if a night time celebration was taking place in one of the nobles' home, and was being displayed.\n\nAs the rather large group approached, Judas was one among, and walked up and kissed the Lord. I knew my ole friend would not let us down, for he too was now one of us, in the case something ill was to happen.\n\nLooking closer, as my eyes adjusted to the sudden band of lights, I could tell that many of them were carrying clubs and swords, I fully awoke from the recent slumber and my demeanor changed instantly. But when one reached out to take hold of Jesus, I too raised my sword, and wanting to inflict a non-lethal pain, cut the ear of Caiaphas' servant completely off his head. This was a warning, and all was to understand that the Lord was protected, and I was his protector.\n\nThe matter was resolved by the hand and the words of Jesus, which really didn't suit me at all. They arrested him and were willing to drag Him back down the hill, but Jesus walked peaceably with the scribes, Pharisees, and elders, in the same snake-like lit up trail that they ascended with. Waiting only a few minutes, and with stealth, I followed. If something could be done, I was going to do it, for this was the man that had brought the change from emptiness to purpose in my life, and I would by any means possible, rescue my greatest friend from any turbulence.\n\nThe night sky had only an occasional curly cloud, and it being only three days 'til full moon, it was not hard to see as I walked a distance behind the mob. Once in a while I'd happen close to some passerby, or someone camping with a fire close to the trail. They clearly had seen the precession before me and every once in a while one would chance to ask what was going on, but all were ignored. Not being far from the city, and it being the day of the Feast of Passover, many a fire could be seen flickering throughout the city from this vantage point, as I approached.\n\nAll night was spent wandering from one fire to another in an attempt to stay warm, but staying close to the court yard, where just inside the Lord was. I'm not sure what my strategy was, but I still remained hopeful that a break would come and the rescue successful. Once in a while I'd get too close to the fire where the light was brightest and someone would recognize me, but I'd run off trying to be more careful at the next fire, because the night had more than a chill in it. The mood in the city was festive at times, and somber in another section, as I wandered around looking for opportunity and in hopes of maybe hearing news of the goings on inside. Someone would come from inside shaking his head, and then another with this cheerful look on his face, but most of those on the outside seemed oblivious to anything, but of the needs of the Passover, or those that were attending to it.\n\nThe night was wearing on, and still no word of what the Pharisees were up to, and I still didn't know when they would release my Jesus back to us, so as, that we could get back to the teachings and healings. Great words had been said, and I think they were being absorbed within me, but at this place in my life, I was nowhere near the maturity that was needed to sustain peace in my life. The general anxiety, had for the most part, subsided, but the emptiness still lingered, but with much less intensity. I knew my life was on the right path, but still at this time needed my Lord to return back with His authority to maintain the course of my being.\n\nNear a fire, warming my hands, for the night had become much colder, a man in a colored robe had approached me and we talked. He spoke mostly about the crispness in the air, spring coming soon, and the doings of the Passover, it certainly helped to pass the time and get my mind off of whatever was happening inside. It was then that an older lady, sitting across the fire, looking at me with an intensity that cut right through my existence, stood up and shouted: \"That man is one that followed Jesus; I'd seen them several times together.\n\nI backed off, so as the light from the fire couldn't reach my face, and mumbled that it was not me and ran to a secluded ally between two close together buildings. Heart racing, legs tired, sweat trickling down my cold face, and all I could think of was, why all the fear? This man that had led us and many others had done no wrong. He had authority over all things, whether it is sickness, unclear spirits, and even raising the His friend Lazarus from the dead, and had on several occasions set the scribes and Pharisees back on their heels with His evidence of the Truth. I was scared and couldn't figure out why. Jesus didn't live for life; life lived for Him, so why was all the anxiety raging inside of me? I thought as I panted to catch my breath. Jesus was a man of wonder, I thought, why would someone want to do harm to Him, and then again the thoughts were that the Sanhedrin wanted only to talk, and all would be well. It wasn't hard to see that the very essence of my soul was being attacked from every angle. So as I relaxed, my heart beat now normal, I began to see strength rise again inside me. With my attitude lifting, I now slowly began to see that we were all going to come through this alright.\n\nWalking through the ally to the other side of the same building, which was near, if not beside the temple, I could hear a group of gathered people singing some of the old songs of Abraham, and stopped just to listen. As each song ended someone would stand and give what sounded like a eulogy, and then the singing began again. I could see food being passed around and each was in good cheer. As I approached, taking deliberate steps, so as not trip over the left behind trash still in the roadway, one of them noticed me and asked if I sought to join them. Hearing this, another advanced holding his hand out, grabbed my arm and pulled me toward him with a hug that seemed genuine.\n\nSitting down among them felt to be the right place, and all were welcoming me as another song began and I allied myself with them to sing the song that many times my family sung of yesteryears gone by.\n\nFood was plenty and I was hungry, so when asked to join in their celebration with drink and food, I obliged. We sat and sang and ate and talked there around a fire that had to be stoked every few minutes so as to keep it at its' present intensity. It was truly a celebration.\n\nSometime later, as we all enjoyed each other's company, a young girl, I'd say about the age of fifteen, said that she, in amazement had watched Jesus, in and around the city, and thought Him to be a prophet. Had seen him and heard Him speak on overcoming the world, and thought it to be very interesting. Once seeing Jesus with women followers, she had at one point thought of maybe joining His group.\n\nIn a calm expression, looking me directly in the eyes, with a smile that could light up the world, asked if I was one that also followed Jesus. My mouth flew open, eyes almost shut, and thinking to myself whether this girl was a friend or foe. Her innocence was written all over her, and not knowing what to do, for I knew many wanted Jesus and those that followed Him, in their hands. As I turned to run back to the same alley that I arrived from, I twisted my head and mumbled that it wasn't me.\n\nIn the small passageway I stopped to catch my breath, set down and looked both directions to see if someone else was occupying the same haven as I now rested in.\n\nThis time in late night or maybe thinking it was early morning, I sat squirming, wringing my hands, thinking of how I was to rid myself of this mess. Thinking in one direction and almost at the same time thinking in another, my mind ran rampant, as I studied the situation to reckon out the best course to go from here. It was perplexing as I thought of leaving the city, and then a thought of busting though the temple, or maybe join a group of the pilgrims as they were leaving the temple, in hopes of escaping and no one recognizing that I too walked with Jesus.\n\nSeveral times in the process of going from one fire to another, I had seen John. He seemed to be much bolder than I, or maybe just didn't understand the gravity of the situation. We didn't speak at any of the times, and I'm not sure he even saw me, but even his distant presence was of some comfort to me, and maybe it helped a little just knowing he was here.\n\nStill dark and getting colder, and knowing this alley was not the place to be, I staggered ever so slowly toward the passage of the temple. Wanting to see what the shouting was that echoed through the passageway and filled the street with many cries of anger. While creeping ever so slowly to the stone channel that led to the inner room, the place where they surely held my Lord against His will, I peered in as day ever so slightly began to break. Only a faint trace of gray was hinted in the eastern sky. Leaning back flat against the corner stone, I rolled my head to the left, twisting it to look around the corner to see the goings on. A young man, from across the street, pointed and shouted; \"there he is!\" I shook my head in disapproval to him to be quiet. It was then that a rooster crowed, and Jesus turned and looked straight at me as if he'd known all along that I was there.\n\nIt hit me, and it hit hard in an instant, legs weakened, heart racing, my head went flush as I bent forward with a pain in my stomach as the shame of my very being was on trial. Realizing for the first time just what a wretch I was for denying the only man, that I called Christ, His right position in my life. Realizing instantly that I shamed my very existence before Christ, the world, and my own ego, to save my neck from the same fate that stood before me, bound and humiliated. I ran fast and as hard as I could for as long as I could until collapsing under a fig tree, just as day broke bright into sunshine.\n\nI wept, teeth gnashing, and moaned from the deepest part of my being as bitterness toward me filled the bones of my withering frame. Everything that I stood for, everything that I stood up to, the leadership I so desired, all washed away by the act of preserving myself, and the false humility that stroked my pride during these past few days.\n\nThe day had broken, the sky red against the curly clouds that look more like waves on the sea than they did floating alongside the rather large hill that now brighten west of the city as the sun cast its beauty on it. The air still cold, but not that I noticed very much, the ground damp as I watched a dung beetle scampering across the sand where some animal had previously been. My mind was on the guilt and shame of the event that had happened in this very hour of the morning. It was not a matter of getting caught denying my Lord; it was the impact of realizing that my whole life was represented in that same hour. I was a shallow man, a man motivated by fear, a man of good intensions, but no back bone in my belief.\n\nAs I watched a flock of geese flying north in an almost perfect V- shape, I wondered what I'd do if the elders of the temple came after me. If my life could be as carefree as the above birds on wing above me, I too would fly to some remote place up north and hide my days out. Everything I wanted, everything I believed, everything that I stood for, vanished in the few moments that it took that rooster to crow.\n\nThe city was filled with people going to and fro, in and around the city, and as the day was now brightly lit by the sun squinting between the clouds, I could see that this place too was surrounded by activity. With my stomach in knots, and my head pounding, I sat among a small grove of fig trees and wept. The pain was so severe from the wrong that I did to Jesus; but mostly from the anguish in discovering this flaw in my own life. Who would be next? I thought. If I did this before Him, what would I do to others? I just sat there wallowing in my pity, with my face straight against the sun, for shadows were not formed yet by the suns low appearance. The tears no longer running down my cheeks and soaking my feet as I sat with my knees bowed into chin, staring off in the distance and looking at nothing. They had all dried up, I was still crying bitterly, but had exhausted all tears, and now the only sign of my weeping was the convulsive jerks that my body made in response to the repulsive act of the night.\n\nWhere did He go, and Why\n\nAs noon approached, the people outside Jerusalem were virtually non-existent, so I did what they must have done and made my way back into the city.\n\nFolks and their commotions were everywhere, the crowds were large, packed in tight as the whole mob worked its' way down a street as if one single organism.\n\nTired from the doings of the morning, I was now coherent enough, and back in this world enough to realize something big was happening. Still afraid, I wasn't going to make myself available for any would-be evil-doer, so I kept my distance. What was happening, I didn't have a clue, but from the signs of the reactions of the crowd, it was a sizable situation. Whatever the event was, it was making some people dance, and some were in lamentation with great wails and sobbing. Not willing to be discovered, I stayed a distance and watched to maybe gain some clue of what was proceeding.\n\nJesus had spoken several weeks earlier that He was to destroy the Temple and build it back in three days, so my thoughts went to: Could this be what's happening?\n\nLike I said before, this was the High Sabbath, and this occurrence was celebrated by the Jews but once a year, for in two days they again had their regular Sabbath, and it all begins tonight. The get-togethers of last night were nothing in comparison to the events that were to come together tonight.\n\nI had seen John a couple of times but not the others, that is, until now. Crowds were gathered every place that had room enough to accommodate a family or group of people that came to the city to celebrate this event with their own like-minded company. It wasn't hard to hide yourself in plain sight, as the activities were too many for most to notice. I saw Philip, and he saw another, until the biggest part of us were collected where we could sit and talk about all that was going on.\n\nStill no one knew what had truly happened to Jesus, but John thought he had a pretty good idea, he was known to the high priest, therefore could get much closer in the temple, and he had seen the Sanhedrin leading a procession out of the Temple with Jesus carrying what looked to be a heavy piece of lumber.\n\nSpending little time together the disciples split up as John wanted to follow them to find out if what seemed to be happening was truly what he thought, a crucifixion. Not wanting to be out of the sorts, and still with my shame firmly implanted, I followed, but at a distance. They took Him to the hill that had somewhat of a look of a human skull.\n\nThe sky was overcast with many different shades of gray, the sun not seen; something in the weather was going on as these clouds had streaks of green hanging around and under them. The wind was blowing; the sand swirled around and between the many boulders and trees that were scattered about the plain that set before us.\n\nNot all the folks in the city followed, but what did had a look of a mob, with many Roman soldiers, with numerous jeers and jesters coming from every direction, and all focused toward the Lord.\n\nI was still afraid and numb at this point, as shame and guilt were eating me from the inside, not at all coherent, I shadowed the crowd as it moved slowly toward the hill. Walking beside the mob, and now many more Romans, staying what I thought was out of easy sight, I followed along the down-hill flank.\n\nI stood watching the whole scene, as it encompassed the entire hill, and could from my vantage point, from the next ridge over, see that what was happening wasn't good. Of a truth, they surely nailed Jesus to a cross, standing upright and pitted deep in a dug hole. His body had the look of a torso that had fallen victim to a stampede of horses, He was bloody from the top of His head downward and shredded as if beaten severally, as every inch of His body was a cut up and a bloody mass. Being this distance away, it was difficult to see the individual cuts, but easily could ascertain that His flesh was ripped from what we knew was the Christ. This was a hard moment and time in my life, watching as now the soldiers made sport of Him. I could now see that John and Jesus' mother, and another called Mary were at His feet, and uncontrolled sobs coming from each as they held each other. My knees buckled and I also wept out of control, for the loss of the Love that came from this man, my friend. It's hard enough to watch a man die, but to spend as much time with Jesus as we did these past three years, this was more than my finite life could take.\n\nAs they laughed and mocked Him, and shook each other's hand, the soldiers' hung a wooden sign above His head, that at this place, I couldn't read. Words were spoken between Jesus and the three before Him, but I couldn't hear, but when said, the wailing progressed ever so much louder. Why are they doing this? I asked myself, as I too felt responsible, as the guilt and shame encompassed every inch of my being, but all I could do was watch, or turn my head to look off at some unknown distance.\n\nAs I sat sobbing, my head between my knees, noticed that night was coming, but it was much too early for that. The clouds were thick as a spring storm, but even much thicker than thick. There were no more shadows being cast, and all was taken over by an eerie calm, without warning the earth shook and a moment later a thunderous sound erupted from what seemed to be the whole universe. Looking back up toward the crowd on the other hill, I could tell that it was finished. Ten minutes later the sky was blue, a calm wind blowing, and shadows returned, but the sun was now low in the western sky.\n\nSoon two men that I thought looked familiar came and took Jesus down, and gingerly carried Him to where I did not know, but not a long distance, as they also returned just as last twilight of the evening melted.\n\nWhy did all this happen? I was thinking to myself, why did the man that had power and authority and the words of Life have to die? Especially why did He die this kind of death? My legs wouldn't work, arms limp, and my head was spinning with every sort of gloomy thought, as I sat in the puddle of my shame and fear; many thoughts raced through my mind and brought a numbness all about my body. The pool of pity that I sat in, for what they had done to my Lord, was terrifying; but the self-pity I had for my own life, was shameful.\n\nI sat there for how many hours, I know not. Trying to remember the things taught, and the people healed, but most were escaping my mind, but a small amount of strength was returning to my limbs, as now I could move about a little more freely. Getting up, I could see the city flickering of the many torches and camp fires scattered throughout. A whippoorwill sang with his one note, followed by two more stretched out ones, the stars were so bright that the narrow band of the Milky Way looked more like a cloud than it did of many stars that were grouped together. The air still chilled as it had been the night before, I walked toward Jerusalem, and there met three more of the disciples that said that they had gathered, all ten, in a house just outside of the city.\n\nA fire was built in the corner as we entered the door way, and the seven other disciples were standing looking out a slit of a window, talking amongst themselves, and little greeting was exchanged between us. We loved each other, but the mood in the air was not that of a cheerful nature.\n\nEventually all of us gathered close to the fire and slowly began talking about our feelings of Christ, the day just finished, and what we were to do from here on. No one really knew all the particulars of what happened, but all understood that our Lord was taken from us; gone, and not to be returned.\n\nIt wasn't long before four of the women showed up, and they were giving us the ins and outs of the tomb, and all that went on. The wailing and sobbing started all over again, but it wasn't long before all got quieter again, as each of us sobbed in our own pity. It was a somber time, as I sat back against the wall, mostly watching, as once in a while someone would give a eulogy. The women later left the group of us men, as we grieved with one another.\n\nI sat in this two story house for several days, my mind racing, going over and over the events of the latter days past, and not once did I leave for food, nor water. Word had spread that the Roman soldiers had been ordered to hunt down the remaining bunch of us followers, and I was sorely afraid. Every noise in the street below sounded louder than a bray of a donkey, I would jump as if I myself was speared. Jittery would not suffice to explain the turmoil that was going on in my mind and body, not even to mention the things of the heart. I was scared. No telling how many times I'd ran to that window, looking down and thinking the soldiers had found us out, to only see that it was all in my head. Once a small group of camels were coming up the street, and the sound their hoofs made on the hard packed ground, reverberated the same as marching soldiers. This was the one time I knew, in my head, that it wasn't my imagination, but it was. My fear had spread somewhat to the other disciple's, but it was obvious that all were much more relaxed, and could somehow talk about Jesus and His powerful words, but I could not. Fear and shame had a grip on me, and the actuality of denial that I knew Jesus, and then getting caught at it, was more than this man Peter could bear. Maybe I should have slept, but I couldn't, the visions going on inside me were more than I thought I could bear awake, and wouldn't risk the dreams of sleep.\n\nIt was early in the morning of the first day of the week, when all were still asleep; when a sound, sort of like thunder, had awaked me, and immediately my thoughts went once again to the Romans, their chains and swords, coming to carry us away. Looking ever so stealthy through the corner slit of the window, I could see it was Mary banging on the lintel with the edge of her basket that contained jars of who knows what. Going down, I let her in. She was out of breath and couldn't speak because of it. I held her arm, and with my still wobbled legs, led her to the pallet that just a minute earlier I was laying in. She rested, trying to speak, but still as yet couldn't get the words out, as the others were stirring out of their sleep also.\n\nI went to Mary, not knowing what to do. It was hard to tell, at this point, whether she was crying, mad, or excited, for apparently she had been running so hard that she had completely exhausted herself. John went to her side, held her hand and waited until she had caught her breath.\n\n\"John, He's gone,\" Mary spoke in a hoarse voice.\n\n\"Who's gone?\"\n\n\"Jesus, Jesus is gone, someone has come and taken Him in the night, He's not there. We were taking spices to the tomb to make preparation, but He was gone.\"\n\nI jumped up, yelled something to the effect that I was going to see, started toward the door, but before I could get through it, John had passed me and on his way out of the door. We ran, and I ran as hard as my weakened legs could carry me, thinking this time I wasn't going to let another calamity pull me further down. I loved Jesus, and it might have been because of me that He was crucified, and with all my might, the Romans weren't going to get away with this.\n\nThe sun had not fully risen. The town was silent; the path plainly in view, my determination was focused. Johns' younger legs and quieter demeanor, was not going to qualify as a deterrent, to make up for my pass failures. As he ran by me through the doorway, he turned, not quite making eye contact and said; \"Peter, don't just stand there, let's go.\"\n\nI was but slightly behind John when we reached the rolled away stone, John fell to one knee, held his hands skyward as if to pray, but I ran pass him and straight inside the opened tomb. I saw the linen cloths lying there, and then to the side, not with the cloth, was a kerchief folded and laying by itself. The folding of it was a deliberate act, but what, I wasn't sure.\n\nFor as yet we did not know the scriptures, that He must be raise from the dead.\n\nNot realizing how tired I was, for last night was the first time that I'd slept in days, and it wasn't much; I sat on the ground of what was supposed to be the burial chamber of our Lord, the Christ. Elbows on my knees, the palms of my hands on both cheeks, eyes wide open in amazement and fear; I saw John then enter in with me. John believed immediately, when he looked over the arrangements of the empty tomb; me, not so much. To me Jesus was dead; a friend lost forever, the true Quality of my life was lost to the selfish ambitions of me, of the Romans and the Sanhedrin that took Him from us.\n\nReflections\n\nMaybe I'd better stop here for a few moments and tell you how and why I, Peter, wanted to write this down, therefore giving the whole story of the pertinent measures of my life.\n\nI am now near four and sixty years old, and at this place in my life, I'm looking back at more than thirty something years. For the past short while, I've been living in this small crevice, for lack of a better term, and most likely will for the rest of my days be content in here.\n\nI wanted to share the evolution of my life as a young man; to show that in my flesh I was like everyone else is, carnal. What I mean to say is, that I thought like a man of the world thinks, I saw only that of the three dimensional world, and I heard only that which the outer ears could hear. In other words, I was dumb, blind and deaf.\n\nWhen one looks back, he can see the foolish mistakes that were made in life and learn from them. We were not given the empowering of the Holy Spirit at this point, and had to, therefore, evaluate circumstances with whatever faculties we had at the time. It was, and is still an opportunity to grow. Let me continue sharing, as life decreases and increases to the depth of a man, in which I very much was, that is; flesh and blood only.\n\n*************************\n\nNow looking in and around that tomb, all I could see was emptiness, a total of lost hope, and a failure on my part to keep Jesus alive, and now the theft of His body. The sorrow that was eating me before seem pale to the agony that now encompasses my being. Without saying a word, and not even looking toward John, I left to go back and ponder in my pity, I was hopeless.\n\nMary Magdalene had a story to tell about a risen Christ, but none listened to her, except maybe John, for it didn't make sense. She said that she was to specifically tell the story to me, but in truth, I didn't really hear what was said. My mind was elsewhere, and not on some fable of an overly excited woman...So I smoldered like the last burning embers of a fire before it is all but a vapor in the air.\n\nWe talked that day, that is most of the others' talked, and the one that we call 'the twin' wasn't there, but many a theory was passed around, with each adding his own view to it, John still believed that Christ had risen.\n\nIt was the same day, the first day of the week, in late evening, with the door shut tight, for we all feared that they would come and arrest us also. As I sat in the far corner, for the other nine talked between themselves; the twin called Thomas was not amongst us, for he went to acquire vittles, when suddenly there was a light that encompassed the room. A man standing there said peace unto you. All were a little startled, but I hardly noticed as my mind was deep in the thoughts of the day. This man showed all of us His hands and His side, and they then knew that it was Jesus. As a movement perceived, I began noticing, but only as one would glimpse a shadow or reflection from far away, and out of the corner of his eye; looking up and directly at him, I also saw that this new visitor was Jesus.\n\nI ran stumbling across the room, fell prostrate before Him and with both hands grabbed both of His ankles and wept. Could it be that Jesus had risen? And in an instant I knew that Jesus is alive, truly alive, and alive with us right now. It was as if light was coming from everywhere, out of the walls, the ceiling, the floor, the room was filled with a glorious light that emitted a sweet floral smell of a desert flower. He was ALIVE. Jesus, standing as I held His feet, bent down to lift me to mine, but as far as my weak legs could get me, was to my knees. I sat there a few moments, sitting on the back on the calves of my legs, and looked Him in the sweetness of His face, focusing on my Lords' eyes, and worshipped. It was then that every fear, every piece of shame, every chunk of guilt that had flooded in me evaporated into love and peace. My Lord is not dead, He's ALIVE.\n\nAs great as it was when I first began following Christ, as much hope as I had then, was as nothing compared to the release that entered into me as I looked into and through His eyes. All the emptiness melted, and l was filled with the fragrance of His Love.\n\nNot more than a few hours after Jesus had appeared unto us and left, the missing twin, the one we call Thomas, showed up. It was not an easy task to explain to him what had just happened. No matter how much we explained in detail the phenomenon that only hours ago occurred, Thomas wouldn't hear of it. He was dead-set on the idea of Him just being dead.\n\nIt wasn't but a few days since we heard the news about Judas. He was a good man, and as far as I know, he loved the Lord, for each time that he was asked to do something, Judas made sure it was done. All of us grieved; and all spent many-a-hour speaking well of him in our grief. But what actually happened, no one really knew.\n\nSome week or so later, as all were gathered together in the same room, again something strange materialized. It was late afternoon, a mist of rain had fallen most of the day, and the light within the room was dim, a dreary composite of the thick clouds that hung over the rolling hills of Galilee. All were doing nothing, except the other disciple called Judas, the brother of the Lord, he busied himself with cleaning, and when the room again was flooded with a light so bright that none of us could see. Jesus appeared once more; again somehow He entered without the door being opened, the brightness of His joy was unmistakable. Nathanael asked if He could quiet the light that emanated from Him, that we may be able to see. So Jesus turned the light much brighter and the air cleared and all could see as never before.\n\nThomas rushed to Him, mouth wide open, hands held out, and asked; is it really you Lord? Jesus opened His robe, and held out His hand and told Thomas to survey the wounds.\n\nIn an instant, Thomas lifting his head toward heaven with his hands following said; \"My Lord and my God.\" It was then that Didymus, the one called Thomas, the twin believed. It was a glorious reunion, not just for Thomas, but for all.\n\nLet's go fishing\n\nNot long after Jesus returned to us this second time, we were still gathered, and mid-morning I jumped up and said that I was going fishing.\n\nEven though all of our lives were changing, most were really doing much of nothing but contemplating and talking to one another concerning our three year walk with the Lord. The fellowship was wonderful, but being cooped up in that house was not the place for me to be. Fishing had been my life, and fishing was what I knew, fishing is where I went and a few of the other guys went also, when I said; I go a-fishing, they went with me.\n\nThis was not to be one of those short trips so we took a few supplies with us, bread, figs, dates and a hunk of goat cheese, for if the weather held, we might fish all night. At dusk the sky turned a beautiful shade of pink with swirls of yellows and hinted among the curls of the few clouds were traces of blue. Every person knew that this meant a calm night, and knowing this, we were of one mind to fish all night.\n\nUsing every advantage of knowledge we knew, angling, trawling, casting, and I even tried harpooning into a school of fish that were revealed under our torches, nothing worked. We stood tired and at the crack of day, long before the sun appeared, John and I decided to head back, but trawl on the way.\n\nNot long after the sun had risen, and not far from the shore, James saw a man and his camp fire near the place we were to land the boat. The man called out and asked if we had any food, and John hollered back that none was in the boat. The man said to throw the net over the right side of the boat, and I said that I didn't want too, for not only I, but all were tired, but John talked me in to it, so we did.\n\nWhen the net went down, the water started to boil, there was fish everywhere, some jumping out of the net, and some jumping in, this was more fish than any had seen in years. James and John hopped in the little boat that we drug behind, and pulled the net and its' contents up on the shore , it was a full load, no more could have been placed in that net even if one had tried to shove it in by hand.\n\nNone of us knew who this man on the beach was, but it certainly helped to have his support. Myself, seeing all the trouble they were having, I jumped in the water and wadded thru to give 'em a hand. Thinking, I thought that the person looked familiar, but not certain enough to put a name on him yet.\n\nJames counted the fish as we layered them in four straight rows along the waters' edge, there were a hundred and fifty-three, not medium, but very large, shining in the sun, fish.\n\nStill, we did not know this mysterious person, and him asking us to eat with him, we sat beside the fire that was already built, and ate breakfast. It was then, after half the meal was devoured, that John leapt to his feet and said; \"It's the Lord.\" I think we had so many decades of seeing through our carnal eyes, that seeing Truth evaded each of us, therefore, we readily could not tell until now, that it was Jesus. After settling down, we all enjoyed the bread and fish, but mostly the time we got to spend again with Jesus.\n\nWhen all had eaten, and all were relaxing in the sun, Jesus came to me, as I was but a little separated from the others, and asked: Do you love me? This question startled me. I really didn't know what was going on here, for He asked virtually the same question three times until I was somewhat confused and maybe a little aggravated, and snapped off an answer a little too quickly. Of course I loved Him, but at the moment didn't understand what was being said about the lambs and sheep. But He was okay with the situation and told me that not long from now, I would understand. This statement didn't set well either, and adding to the disorder of something about my death.\n\n***********************\n\nNow Jesus had told us all to go home, and we did. John, James, and Andrew walking with me, talking and examining all that was said and done these past weeks, and wanting very much to decipher all the events, for within, we all understood that growth was at hand. When we passed people in our journey, sometimes they would stop and talk. They'd all start with the weather, or how much longer the days are getting now, but always one of us would turn the conversation to the resurrection of Jesus. The joy we felt was greater than the imagination could comprehend. These were good times.\n\nWhen we entered Galilee, and getting close to Capernaum, each went to his own home. The thought of seeing my wife for the first time in a long while was exhilarating. John was in a hurry and went on the last few miles ahead of the rest, and evidently saw my wife and told her that I'm on my way, for she was expecting me as I arrived.\n\nStill walking, not far off from our home, early evening, an effortless wind out of the east, I could smell the sea that was to my right, and there she was. Standing under a small grove of fig trees, and a small group of sea gulls between us, my wife, and I just stood there a moment, me looking at her beauty with relief. Even from this distance I could tell, by her body language, that she was as happy as I, our love for each other only strengthened. She stood, and I began to run. The birds going in every direction, and we held each other for a long time, but in my opinion, not long enough. Setting there under the trees, the figs were in blossom this time of year, we talked, first about her mother, family and our friends, and after a while, about the things that I'd heard and seen. I began to tell of all the miracles, the words spoken by Jesus, and the circumstances or our ordeal with the Sanhedrin and the soldiers. We sat under those trees for several hours, sun to our backs and in the shade of the afternoon, until the light first started to fade. No matter how much or how fast I could talk, I barely began to scratch the surface of all that had happened on this past journey. This was a glorious reunion.\n\nHolding each other's hand, we walked up the beach and went home.\n\nSeveral times in the weeks to come, us few disciples got together, and reminisced of all that happened, but most of all we were elated to know that Jesus indeed was resurrected from the dead, alive and very well. Once in a while one of us would receive a revelation of our past experiences, and it would be shared.\n\nMy wife noticed, and so had I, that all the emptiness, the fear, the things in my past was gone, melted into space. I had a peace in me that cannot be described, a joy that there just aren't words to express, my life had changed, and I could tell it had changed for life. When Jesus had looked at me with those eyes, that you could see the universe through, my life liquefied into His, I was healed.\n\nThe Gathering\n\nThe days following were good, the men and I would talk almost every other day, the excitement of the past years were wonderful and exhilarating. Most of our time spent together, when we weren't reminiscing, was disbursed mending the nets, patching the boats, and pretty much just sitting things ship-shape, but I really didn't seem to have an urge to fish, so we just spent this time together and enjoyed the sunshine. This lasted for more than a week; and one afternoon, after all of us had eaten, when we were all gathered, I said: For some reason not be known to me, I believe that we are to go again south.\n\nThe other three were quick to agree as they had similar thoughts, and none of us really knew why.\n\nAfter telling my wife, which was still very supportive, and the others', their families, we started our journey back to Jerusalem the next morning just as the sun had breached the horizon. Not knowing what was ahead was now part of our lives, but it always had a way of surprising us in a beneficial way. All felt good as we walked. The first day was always within sight of the sea, with its' many attractions of birds flying, birds trotting up or down the shore in hopes of a dinner, fish swimming close to the banks, and some jumping in large schools not so far out.\n\nOnce in a while one of the brothers would bring up a subject and we'd talk about it, and then exchange our views, and then another matter would jump from nowhere, and we'd hash it out. The journey was a good one, for the weather was perfect, we slept well at night, and the fellowship couldn't be better.\n\nOn the fifth day of our excursion, with the sun already set, the sky was a deep gray, and we could see torches and camp fires in the far distance, knowing this was Jerusalem. We stopped for the night to rest, and were to go into the city first thing in the morning. Not long after the fire was built, the bedrolls spread, and the food made ready, I could see out of the corner of eye, movement. Not knowing if this be man or beast, I studied quietly in that direction to affirm if what I saw was true or just residue of my experience of five or six weeks ago. There was no moon, just stars and the background of the distant city torches.\n\nA voice sang from the darkness that sounded like my ole friend and fellow disciple Bartholomew. Andrew rose up and knew who it was as he first hollered back; \"come in and sit with us.\"\n\nNot more than a minute, with plenty of sounds of shuffling coming through the darkness, a whole line of men came marching into camp, in fact, there was seven of them, Bartholomew leading the way. As they approached the light of the fire, I then saw that it was Bartholomew, Philip, Thomas, the other James, Matthew, Simon and the other Judas, all of us were together again. It was a nice reunion, and we talked and ate and relaxed together by the warmth of the fire and had a good-o-time. They too had similar stories, as was those of ours. We kept close to each other and met almost on a weekly basis. When asked why they too were going to Jerusalem, Philip put another stick of wood in the fire, rubbed his chin as if thinking and began to address their mission.\n\nAll of them had a dream, a vision, call it what you may, an encounter with Jesus, He presented Himself and told us to go to Jerusalem, in an upper room of a certain house and wait on Him.\n\nNow I couldn't believe what we was hearing, and probably the other three also, for at this time he stood up as if anxious to speak, but wasn't going to interrupt. When Philip had expounded on their happenstance, and sat again by the fire, I began speaking. \"Men, we too had the same encounter, and were told the same things, and were in-fact going into the city to wait for His movement in the same upper room. The affirmation of this moment was planned by God, for His will is always done, therefore all of us will go together and wait upon Him.\"\n\n***********************\n\nThe next day as the eleven entered into the room, which by all standards was very large, we all began to pray. Night and day we prayed together. The next few days, men and women began to trickle in, and entered into the same room with the same prayer. All were in one accord, as the others also heard the movement of the Spirit from within, in all account, there were about a hundred and twenty.\n\nI stood up in the midst of the hundred and twenty disciples and said that it was right that we should replace the one lost disciple, and we did, by drawing lots. Matthias was chosen, not by us, but by the moving of God.\n\nTimes were managed without our consent, as the Spirit was perceptibly in control, the devotion each had toward the other was common and unexplainable; warming. Men and women that had never before met, blended with each other, as does one star with all the others in the Milky Way. Being in one accord is an understatement, for it seemed we were fused in mind and spirit as one organism. The exhortations, the words of knowledge, the prayers, the wisdom and all understanding were given and received as if we were one body, that body being Christ.\n\nI was sitting in the floor at the far corner from the doorway thinking back on my life and all the emptiness that was felt during all the years of my young adult life, and it now seemed a far distant memory of the person I once was. The sun shining through the window in front of me, and a vineyard on the hill opposite from us, I could tell the beauty of the day. Not a breeze was stirring, the temperature was comfortable, the smiles were abundant, the circulating flow of Gods' Spirit was more than the imagination could contrive, and I thought; where did this man inside of me go?\n\nAs I continued surveying the past life and past thoughts of the man I was, and the transformation that is taking place from within, I began seeing the facades of the life that this world offers. The barrenness of life only lived through the senses, the vacancy of true living, was being rightly divided from the inside, and now began coming to the surface that could now be seen and meditated on. Even the modesty of my simple life had been affected by the views of this world, and the accomplishments that it portrays that we should value. This world offers a bottomless pit of destruction and that is exactly where each goes when following it. I no longer placed value on many of the thing that I once did; my life was continually changing.\n\nWhen one lives life to the fullest, is it not him that is living life, but life living him? Were we not slaves to the goals and riches that we once thought to be admirable? Thinking as I sat quietly in my thoughts, looking out in the distance, but seeing nothing, as the true inner eyes were focus on the man within, the real being of my existence. If we strive to feed our family, to meet our intensions, to find favor in our community, to be the man the world wants us to be; are we not then slaves of our own making, to the very thing that was to be avoided, slavery? Does not God provide, but we travail in agony to be something that was not to be, a man of means, but instead end up empty? Looking back at the piece of a man I was only days ago, I can understand the abyss of the inner man sinking into a life like this, that was taught from our youth up to be more than it is capable of. If we spend a life-time pursuing our freedom, to meet our dreams through hard work and stamina, but in the process lose the joy of living, and consumed in the daily task of providing, all to make life more abundant, will we, if looked at closely, have placed our being in this endless mode of slavery? Yes. Why is life, if it is not to be appreciated, accepted as being fulfilling? But we instead replace that joy of abundant living with the daily task of making a living. Still pondering on the thoughts of an open heart, I realized that I was only touching on the surface of what true life was to be. Anyway, all the inner turmoil, the longing to be fulfilled, the void of the emptiness was gone, evaporated in the sunshine of the direction I was facing; I was being healed.\n\nLittle did I know at this time that the best was yet to come, for after standing up and going to mingle with the others, a sound that began as a distant thunder rumbled across the land and into the very room the ten dozen of us fellowshipped. The sound was made by a fierce wind, filling, or rather packing the room with the smell of sweetness that one senses after a summer rain. The wind was smooth, but the sound of it was as storm driven through a forest, a force that many went to their knees to observe. The room of this uppermost part of the building was truly filled, that is with the presence of the Lord.\n\nNow not too long ago we were told by Jesus to go throughout the world and preach the forgiveness and Love of Jesus Christ and our God. To tell all that where they are, and even what they do, would not separate them from His Love.\n\nIn the twinkling of an eye, everyone in the room was filled with the charisma of His existence, and all women and men began prophesying in a language that was not known by any of the group. The sound of the Spirit was broadcast into the air of that city with the authority of the Lord. Many came to see that which was happening, and I think inwardly wanting to seek the cause of it, or maybe it was curiosity. One man stood in the window watching as one would over his sheep, and turned and shouted out to those outside that much wine had been passed around and they, we, were drunk. Most of the outsiders were men of distinction, gathered in town for some function from all countries, to come to a settling and agreement on the matters of their religion, they were Jews. But I think God had them there for an entirely different purpose, to witness the Spirit moving and maybe that of which they lacked. For nothing was hid, and the profound happenings stretched far beyond the walls of that room as many observed.\n\nFor each man and woman filled with the Wind of God's Spirit spoke in a tongue unbeknownst to the one prophesying, and speaking the oracles of His message to them in their own language. That is; that God's Love is extended to all. I think this added to their confusion, as many left, and still many looked as if they were bewildered by the authority that was supposed, in the mind of many, to be theirs'.\n\nThe diverse languages, at least the way I see it, was for the purpose of going to all the different languages with the Good-News of the resurrection of Christ, and the total Love that God forwarded to all, so His clear message could be understood by any.\n\nIt was still early in the day, the excitement went throughout the building and also spilled into the streets below, the indwelling of Christ was real and accepted by all. As I walked through the room, and watching as men and women were as one, my heart and soul were filled with the joy of His presence. The other Judas came to me as I hugged and kissed many of the brothers and sisters, and was I asked; \"Peter, what is it that has filled our heart and this room with a manifestation of the authority of Jesus?\" It was then, stepping on top a hewn table that I addressed all that was in the room, and especially those that were standing outside looking in.\n\n\"Men of Judea...think not what you see, is, as it appears...\" I addressed all with the same authority that befell to me when Jesus asked; \"Who do you say that I am?\" My mouth opened, the words came out, but what came from it was not Peter. It was as if I no longer lived in my body, and the life that lived in me was not my own, but His who bought me. I spoke from the prophet Joel, and from the words of King David, and to the whole house of Israel, with power and authorization.\n\nNow when they heard this, they were cut to the heart, and said to me and the rest of the apostles; 'men, brothers, what shall we so do?' And I said unto them; change the way you think, think not in the world's way, and be submerged in this same Holy Spirit, and you also shall receive this same gift. And many that day and the days following, were added to the Church, many were healed, many delivered, many were set free from the bondage that this world had imputed into them.\n\nGreat things had happened to us, and I speak mostly of me, starting with the room when Jesus appeared for the first time, and then when He gave us His Spirit, and as these were the greatest of all events, none compares to the experiences as yet of today.\n\nWhile walking with Jesus in our journey throughout all Judea, with all the parables, miracles, and healings, I then saw that my life was to be nowhere except with this man Jesus the Christ of God, and it was more than wonderful. For truly this was the Christ, the Son of the living God. The forgiveness that I received when He appeared after the resurrection melted my soul and heart to a place that I didn't know existed. And as real as it was walking with Christ, eating with Him, watching Him move upon others to make the blind see, the deaf hear, the lame walk, and even bring Lazarus back to earth from the dead, all was not so impacting in my life, as has this day brought forth. Then I could see Him, touch Him, talk face to face, but now Jesus is closer to me and more real within me after the Power and Spirit had fell upon me through that wonderful rushing wind that came to us this day. Even though my eyes cannot see Him, I see Him far more clearly than any day past, and though my ears do not hear His voice, I can hear Him with clarity, and though I cannot touch Him with fingers, I am now in constant contact, the Christ is real, and really living inside and through me now and forever.\n\nThis was a powerful day, meaning a day with much power, and my mind was not just renewed, but as if one poured it out on the ground, and refilled it with the mind of Christ. It was amazing how so many of the things taught to us in the past, were now organized, prepared, completely reasonable, but a few short weeks ago, made no sense. A change had come over us, and the only thing that was done by each, was to be obedient, that is wait on Him as He had asked.\n\nNot so many weeks ago, we were told to go through the region of Judea, in fact the world and preach this Gospel of Love that was given to us, but none understood what that meant, or what that Love really was, until now. This gathering of some hundred and twenty men and women were filled with the Spirit, which is the Love, of our God and His Christ.\n\nDoing hard Time\n\nNow John and I went up together to the temple at the hour of prayer, which was late in the evening. This day was another like the several of past, the sun was in the west sky, an orange ball, larger than normal and centered between hefty clouds of pure white. The blue of the background was livelier, thus brighter than one would customarily see, not a breeze could be felt, and the air was comfortably warm. A pair of doves pecked relentlessly on the ground, as some passer-by had evidently dropped crumbs of something not determined, and three unattached goats were grazing on the grasses of a near-by abandoned house. Glancing up and seeing a certain man lame from his mother's womb and being carried; whom they laid daily in the gate of the temple, which is called Beautiful, to ask for money from those who entered the temple; who seeing us about to go into the porch of the aforementioned, asked us also for money. When both John and I turned, we asked for him to look us in the eye, and he responded, thinking we were to give money also. God's power continued to be upon us, and without looking, nor speaking to one another, John and myself were in agreement, and I spoke; \"silver and gold I do not have, but what I do have, I give to you in the name of Jesus of Nazareth, rise up and walk.\" John taking one hand and I the other, we reached to stand him up, and strength entered into his legs and ankles. The man stood, took a step and leaped off the ground with a shrill of excitement, and then followed us into the temple. After walking in, all the people of that area knew this man and him lame. And when many had seen him clinging to John and me and him walking, ran to the three of us as we commenced through the porch of Solomon, with an amazement of this, what they thought a peculiar happening, and wanting to find out if this was true.\n\nIt was not that many days past that I too doubted, and was filled with despair, and had this happened then, I too would have joined them looking for hope in a not-so-hopeful world. But since the time that we were baptized in the Holy Ghost, and completely filled with God's presence, this and all other situations seemed normal and as if it had always been this way, and why would any situation be different? The power and authority felt as if all of my life I had possessed it, a normal part of living. The events of within seemed to have been stored, waiting to be released, so that, which I seemed not to have, was there all along, waiting to be awakened by that same Christ from within. The healing from within me was being unconstrained, therefore was now able to be extended to other, or so it seemed.\n\nA rather large group had gathered, as many knew him from his daily routine of being in the same place for many years now, came towards us as we entered the toward the temple. I then turned, looking over the crowd, then spoke; \"men of Israel, why do you marvel at this? Or look so intently at us, as though by our own power or godliness we had made this man walk? You have denied the Holy One, murdering Him, thus killing the Prince of Life, whom God raised from the dead. And His name, through faith in His name, has made this man strong. Now I know you did this in ignorance, as also the rulers'.\" I then spoke to all from the scriptures of Joel, Moses and the words of father Abraham the things prophesied, concerning the Lord; \"and now we are to change the way of our thinking, turning to Him, and relying no more on the strength of man.\"\n\nAs we were responding to the gathered people, the priests, the captain of the temple, and the Sadducees, came up to put hands on us; we were arrested. The next day taken before their rulers, scribes, elders, as well as Annas the high priest for something that was supposed to be a trail. After several words from both sides, and threats being made from them, we were released and they threatening us not to speak in the name of Jesus again, for at that time, to place us in prison could not happen, for they feared those standing by that did believe. But we could not but speak of the things of God, and His son crucified. Many, in those days, were added to the Church, men and women, the ones called out from amongst them, and we also continued as vessels that God served through. Many signs and wonders were wrought to the people, for many believed, the increase of those seeking to follow God were great, as multitudes were healed and could also see God's mighty hand.\n\nOnce again, for their indignation, the rulers and scribes were greatly against us, and again arrested us apostles and were to put all eleven apostles in prison, for what they had contrived in their religion, and it was not to be messed with. But in that very same night, all of us, bound, were led to the prison behind the locked gates, and placed where nothing else could happen that would upset their forms of godliness. But that very same night an angel came and opened the prison door and let us out, and told us to go back to the temple and preach the Words of Life.\n\nThe next day after having heard of the prison being empty, it was broadcast throughout the city of how furious the scribes, elders, and all the rest of those involved in the temple, and that sect of religion, especially the Sadducees, wanted us killed. But God gave increase daily, for many were added to the Church, that is to say, to the ones called out from among the world, and its' religion.\n\nNow in those days, many disciples were added in Jerusalem and also many were to believe elsewhere, for the Word was being spread throughout the region. Many were obedient to the Word and even several of the priests believed.\n\nThe glory of the Lord, and His word was expanded all over Judea, for many believed, but many were distraught for what was happening to their form of religion, that was invented and carried out through man; a form, but no power; a unity, but no strength; a way that seemed right, but were full of dead mans' bones, for there were no Life.\n\nMuch of the time, the twelve of us would split up and go to different regions, but mostly John and I were together, and sometimes Andrew and James, for we were longtime friends, and seemed to know what the other was thinking. We traveled well together.\n\nWe'd heard that a wonderful brother, one that became a disciple, named Stephen, held firm in the love and Truth of God and His Christ, was used to bring about many to this new way of thinking, as God gave provisions, but was stoned to death by those that would not allow their congregations to be torn apart by this new way of Life. When we heard this bad news, we were cut to heart and our teeth gnashed, for Stephen was full of the Holy Spirit, even forgiving those that stoned him, just before dying.\n\n***********************\n\nFor the weeks following, I would ponder on the events of my life, and could then see an evolution taking place, with or without my consent, I don't know; but I like the works being done in me. I still wake up each morning long before the sun rises, and on this particular day, as I lay quiet on my bed thinking about nothing particular, but still having many thoughts going to and fro within my mind. Most of the thoughts have little meaning to me, as for a surety, my whole attitude and demeanor has changed; like Lazarus, when they were told to unwrap the binding of his grave cloth, the things of this world no long keep me bound to it.\n\nIt was mid-summer, so dark I couldn't see my hand when held between the window and my bed-roll, not a star was shining, so it had to be completely cloudy, and still very warm, even for this time of the morning. In a far off distance, I could hear a dog barking over the top of a whip-o-wills' song to a mate, there was a slight breeze, and could faintly hear the waves as they gentle lapped the shore of the sea not so far away. My wife, still sleeping, lying beside me; I got to thinking of my life before, and my life now. The thought started with a man not so long ago that tried buying his way into our group, and the power that comes with the indwelling of the Spirit. It had sort of made me mad for what he was asking, and maybe a little indignation rose up in my soul. Anyway, this was the thought that stuck that morning, and I began to inventory the cloak of my soul.\n\nIt was not that many years ago that complete emptiness consumed me from the inside. Being married was wonderful, but was not destined to fulfill that inner need. Andrew came back with stories of the Baptist, and this excited me, so when Jesus showed up and ask for me to follow, I knew the answer lay within me doing just that, and it did. Even then, with my fast actions and quick mouth, I absorbed very little, but knowing that this is where I should be. And now the Spirit was given unto us, and then His empowerment that washed over me in that upper room, I now have a greater understanding of the works within. But I still have a long ways to go.\n\nSo the man that tried buying his way in the Holy Spirit, that angered me to the core, was not so much different than the man I was, not but a very short time ago. This man also was given to me from the Lord to keep my arrogance in check, and even though my evolution has been great and has taken me far, it is but a stepping stone to the places God wants to take me. The man just didn't know. And how could he? Him being slightly younger than myself, I mean in this walk of the Lord, had no great sin, at least not as big as the errors in my life, and looking back, he might have been years ahead me, that is before the Holy Spirit fell upon me in that wind, he just wasn't there. So I expected too much from him, and surely could have used more patience than I did with this man that also wanted more in life. But still the truth is; The Spirit of Christ cannot be bought, for it is a true and free gift to all that seek His Way, that leads to Truth, that makes us free from the World and its' religions, and can only bring Life to those that follow Him.\n\nSo now, as I look with serenity at my evolving life, I see a man in me that's got masses to learn, and still many more places to go, and with a few falls from obstacles, I now call obstacles blessings, could grow to the vessel God has set for my life. And with His help, I will.\n\nStill lying in bed; and the darkness of night was still about, and I would guess about half hour more 'til the slight break of day, my wife rolls over and knows that I'm awake and probably knows that I was thinking again. Putting her hand to my arm she asked if I was worried about anything. \"Heck no, for the first time in my life, I quit trusting in myself, therefore concerns of life have vastly vanished.\"\n\nShe said that she already knew that.\n\nWe were close and could almost read each other's mind, and she knew that things were getting better with me, and I think just wanted an update. She had always supported me, and since her mother was healed by Jesus, she too knew how important my walk with the Lord was, and this changed lifestyle was most significant in our pursuit of happiness and fulfillment. She encouraged me at every opportunity, and grew as I also grew in a deeper relationship with Jesus,\n\nJesus was in my inner man, the depth of my heart, more real to me, a greater friend, and closer to the touch, after the crucifixion, and after being Spirit filled, than He was in our three year walk together. I now know who He is, we talk constantly with each other, I can see Him, hear Him, feel Him continuously, in more intimacy than we ever had when He was walking on earth. Times were good, and my wife was as thrilled as I was about this new found Life.\n\nWe talked to way up past the rising of the sun, enjoying each other, we talked about our life together, and how it was enhanced by the relationship that we both now have with Jesus.\n\nShe asked many questions, and we spoke of the future, and our future, and things about our friends and so-on, as the sun had now eaten up the light fog and the few ripples of clouds that were scattered in the eastern sky over the waters before us. As our conversation paused for a few moments, I went to thinking about my new life, and its' changes, and how my relationship with my wife, was also changing. In the mission of what lies ahead, and my need for my wife's support, it is very important that she be teamed with me, and I believe that somehow I could pull it off without her, which isn't the case, but having her with me, always in my heart, is an ideal situation, and I thank God for His work in this matter.\n\nShe then asked how I felt when put in prison, and wanted to know in earnest what I was thinking at the time. Was I scared?\n\n\"A little, well not really; you see, when my life changed, it all happened in a moment, in a twinkling of the eye, and I was healed of twenty-something years of the peace that was missing in my life. And the deliverance from, and of, that void is now more than I can explain, but all came together at the right time. So being shackled and locked up felt inside as the right direction for that moment, and no fear was in me, for then I knew that I need not be in control, because that was the Lords job. There was a peace within me, and certainly more thankful than scared.\"\n\n\"What were you doing or thinking during all this?\" She asked as we faced each other holding hands.\n\n\"Not really much of nothing. The small group of us began to sing, we then prayed, and had discussed that no one was going to eat until a sign from Jesus had been shown. You know, we weren't in there long before the angel came, set us free, and gave direction of our next move. This was not a night of fear, but rejoicing, a night when fear had escaped us, and a peace had a filling throughout, it was really a good time for the hearts of all, except maybe the Sadducees. All of us had gathered again at the temple, and more were added to the group of believers.\"\n\nWe both spent the rest of the afternoon together, and I knew Andrew was to drop by later, to begin again our continued mission, so we talked and enjoyed our day together.\n\nSeveral hours later, my brother came by, my wife and I said our good-byes, and me and Andrew headed south on the perpetual journey of witnessing peoples' lives changing. Both were excited, for neither of us knew what God was going to do next, times were brilliant with His presence.\n\nAs we walked, I was telling Andrew of the remarkable support and encouragement that was given to me from my wife and her friends, and he said the same was coming from our parents also.\n\nThe Meeting of Many\n\nIt was not so many days later, the apostles met and began traveling south and west and some even north, to tell and teach this Good-News that had now come upon many. I can remember that multitudes in those days were being healed and were filled with the understanding of Christ as the Holy Spirit had fallen upon many. It was not long after Simon tried buying the Holy Spirit in Jerusalem that we would separate to go in different directions preaching the Word that was given to us daily. As for the four of us that usually traveled together, we again went toward the holy city.\n\nIt was good that each of us had these little breaks, as they too were enlightening times. We'd share with one another the experiences each were having, as we spent these times with our family and friends, learning much from the acquaintances that each had in their daily visits to town, and all that was being said, as many-a story was told of events and happenings, that made their way into the villages and towns scattered throughout this southern region.\n\nThe one story that often came up was of this certain man that had a reputation of coming against those that came to Christ. In fact we'd heard that he was there when Stephen was stoned, and aggravated it on. This man's name was Saul, and he was known, by permission from his superiors, to wreak havoc upon as many as fell within his grasp, including death by making human torches out of them. But in the rumor that each of us had heard, and several times each, we heard that this same Saul was preaching Jesus Christ and Him crucified, and was now a changed man. The man was bold, according to rumor, and taught and preached in every synagogue that was in his path, and that is; his experience on some road going to some town and his encounter with the Lord. As of yet, we have not gotten all the information, but still it made for good talk as we continued walking toward Jerusalem.\n\nWe'd walked awhile, and talked awhile, and sometimes we'd not talk at all, and at other times we'd meet someone, and they'd recognize us, and maybe asked a question, or maybe tell of an experience that they too had with the Lord. All in all, the whole lot of us enjoyed being together. The days were cool, the nights cooler, and when we stopped for the night, the fire made for a closer encounter, as we'd set telling of the people that were seen healed in the name of Jesus.\n\nJohn asked, while poking a stick in the fire, if anyone understood what Thomas was going through. There was a silence for a minute or two before James spoke up; \"Of course all of us know that he too was changed at Pentecost, but didn't all of you know that Thomas is one of the strongest believers, and God has wrought great works through him?\"\n\nJohn was rolling flat bread into ball, stuffing it with dates, and had a mouth full when he tried telling us of the people that he'd seen healed by God's works in Thomas. It took several attempts before John could get it out his mouth, but when he did, all rejoiced, the times together were good.\n\nIt was on this trip that the four of us decided to split up again, for I had it in my heart to go along the coast of the great sea, all were in agreement. We prayed together, hug, and took off in the direction that each thought the Lord was calling us in; I went to Joppa passing thru, stopping only to eat, and talked to very few while there, then went on to Lydda.\n\nA small crowd had assembled just outside of the village, and I preached in authority as all were eager to hear, about this new Life that was available through the resurrection of Jesus. Staying there; or there about, for a few days, many manifestations were seen by no small amount of people, as the Spirit moved upon many. And the Lord had moved on a man called Anarias. He had been paralyzed for over eight years and was completely bedridden, but was then completely healed, and could walk normal. The deliverance was at the sound of the name of Jesus, when spoken into the air, even His name held that much authority. There was nowhere any of us went, that the power of Christ was not there.\n\nIt was then that a certain man from Joppa was sent to me, and asked if I'd return with him, for one of our dearest disciples, named Tabitha, had gotten very sick and died.\n\nNow this lady was very dear to all the apostles, and was known for her loving deeds and good works, as she expressed her love for the Lord everywhere that she went, and she seemed to go numerous places, for she was well known throughout the region. It was then that I was approached and told about her death, and would I come to Joppa? Not but a mere days' walk, I immediately stopped and went straightway to the city of Joppa where she now lay. Being taken to the upper room, where more than a few women were weeping and making preparations on the body, and showing the evidence of Tabitha's good works by holding the garments and tunics had she had made for them and many others, for Tabitha was surly dead, and these were their remembrances of a lady well liked and deserving of high honors. I asked that each would leave as I walked toward where she lay with a shroud over her body, including her face. As I knelt next to her, turning as I pulled the garment off the face, said in a whisper of a voice; \"Tabitha arise.\" Instantly, without hesitation, she sat up and smiled, as I reached for her hand, and smiled back, she was no more in the midst of the dead, but now talking as if nothing at all had happened. We both walked out together from the room that just moments ago she lay dead, and presented her alive and well to her many friends that waited on my return, but not expecting this moment.\n\nThe news had spread throughout that area next to the great sea, and many believed on Jesus the Christ, and others also were healed of diverse diseases, as I was asked to stay for a time, teaching them with truth. One Simon, a tanner by trade, asked if I'd stay with him, and this I did for many days. More than a few were healed, and many came to an intimate relationship with Christ through His Words, and the manifestations of His works thru me and several others that proclaimed His Word. Miracles and wonderful works from God thru us was common-place, some would even call them extraordinary, but I thought it was extraordinary if they didn't happen.\n\n**********************\n\nNow in those days the Roman soldiers had been commissioned to seek and find those, the followers of Jesus' teachings, and cause chaos, if not complete turmoil and devastation in their lives. Each that had an encounter with the Lord, knew of this, but lived as if nothing had been ordered against them, yet still understood that their lives were in danger, but continued without ceasing the forwarding of God's Word. In the back of our mind, the disasters from the soldiers remained, but our commission prevailed at every level of the heart. So we continued steadfastly. These wonders and works were not wrought thru our flesh, for no man in his carnal ways can are used, but the living Spirit of God living within us could, and He did.\n\nOne evening after expounding to a group of men and women just inside the gate to the city, I was the one touched in the inner being of my soul, of the wonderful things that were happening, and most through the speaking of His Word, I was grateful. And coming back to my friends' house, the sun just barely over the tops of the horizon, I sat to meditate on all of His events that were worked through us. I knew they were happening, and I understood why and how, but for the life of me, I didn't understand why a lowly fisherman like me was being used, when, what seemed like so many others that looked well qualified, were not.\n\nI sat there with my back leaned against the porch of Simons' house, and watched the many seagulls search and divide for their last meal of the day, and began to pray.\n\n\"Lord God, you are the God of all, for no other god can stand beside you, for you alone stand in your' might, your wisdom, your knowledge, your understanding, for you alone are the God of all heaven and earth. Not the earth only, but also the stars, the planets, the comets, the moon, and all the space between them, for of a truth, you are the only true and living God, and I thank you. I thank you for being who you are, where you are, and how you are, you are my God, and not mine alone, but all that was created by you, all that is made in your similitude, and all that were not, for even the mountains, the rocks, the ground that we walk on, and the sea that we sail on, all have been formed by your Word. I beseech you Father to open within me the hope of your Kingdom, to come to that complete understanding of your existence, to know you within my deepest being.\"\n\nI continued for some time in prayer, as I was in awe of all that was His, and still wanted to know why He had chosen me above others. At least that was the way I was thinking back then. Why did he choose me and the others to walk with Jesus, a lowly bunch, some, like me with little education, to sit at the feet, day and night, to watch and learn from the true Son-of-God? Why were others overlooked, were we better than them, did I have something they didn't have? Did God love us more? These and many other thoughts came to mind while leaning against those bare stones. I continued in prayer:\n\n\"Lord you once said that you could make the rocks turn into Abrahams' children, and they too would praise and worship you if you wanted them to. There is none that's not yours, even the creeping and crawling things are under your' might; why are some people seemed to be ignored, especially those of other nations? There are places for me to go, and I believe that you Father, want to take me there, so help me to become that living vessel, that I may follow. All praise and honor and glory and thanksgiving, belong to you, and you alone; for of a truth, your' Kingdom, your' Glory, your' Power and your' Word is forever and ever, Amen.\"\n\nAlthough my thinking was by no means to full maturity, at the time, I thought it was. I was mistaken. Mistaken in the point that us apostles, especially me, were important, and we were, but not to the stretch that I was thinking. It took some time and meditation trueing myself to the standard of Jesus to realize just how much further I had yet to go.\n\nFeeling refreshed as I inventoried my life, the shore birds scavenging for their last morsel before all light had vanished, I realized that nothing was taken for nourishment this whole day, I was hungry, very hungry. As I went in the house, the smell was obvious that foods were being prepared, which added to my sense of hunger, so walking up the steps, I went to the roof top, where it was a might cooler, just to wait.\n\nIt was now fully dark, the night sky filled with its' many specks of stars, noises from up and down the coast could be heard thru the night air as if they were made right under me, and smells of food being cooked from the many houses that lined the shore, I fell asleep. You might even call it a trance, and I saw a vision.\n\nAnd Heaven opened up, and an object like a great sheet bound at the four corners, descending to me and was let down from heaven to earth. In it were all kinds of four footed animals of the earth, wild beast, creeping things, and birds of the air. And a voice came to me; \"rise Peter, kill and eat.\" But I said, not so Lord, for I have never eaten anything common or unclean. And a voice came again the second time; \"What God has cleansed, you must not call common.\" This was done three times. And the object was taken up to Heaven again.\n\nNow as I wondered within of what this vision that I had seen, and what it meant, three men were at the door of house of Simon, the tanner, at the gate asking if Peter lodged here. Still in thought of the vision, the Spirit said to me; \"Behold three men are seeking you, arise therefore, go down and go with them, doubting nothing, for I have sent them.\"\n\nGoing down the stairs, my mind still fogged with the vision, I met the three men that said that their master, a centurion, had sent them to me. They said; \"Cornelius, a just man, one that fears God and has a good reputation among all the nation of the Jews, was divinely instructed by a holy angle to summon you to his house, and to hears words from you, but as you know, he himself is not a Jew.\"\n\nAs I spoke earlier that many works were being done by the power of Jesus, even some at the sound of His name, but this vision still had me a little perplexed as I attempted to focus because of what just happened moments ago. Not wanting to reestablish some of my old habits of making quick decisions, I asked them in the house. This was also an opportunity to refocus at the task at hand, for the Spirit told me to doubt nothing.\n\nAfter we talked awhile, and all slept through the night; the next morning, taking a few of the other brothers with me, we set off from Joppa for the two day journey. The journey began as a brisk walk on a beautiful morning, with many of the song birds singing their greeting of the new day. Several scorpions scattered as we rounded the first corner trying to make their way back to the hole they had excavated before the suns' heat scorched the day. Not long after the mid-day sun, the wind started swirling in small dust devils that could be seen in the endless plains of the desert. But not two hours later did that wind turn to a full-fledge sand storm, blowing so hard that the six of us took shelter between a group of out-cropped boulders, they'd looked as though a hand had placed them there from the ancient past.\n\nSettling in we attempted eating the flat bread that was carried with us on our travels, but it was much too gritty as the sands had penetrated every crevice of our being and belongings. Hunkered amidst this group of large stones, that had a similar expression about them of giants looking down, maybe even watching over us, as we did have a reprieve from the wind, but not the sand. Only an hour or so later our small group set off once more in the direction of this ordained trip.\n\nThe following day as we entered the town, and went straight to Cornelius' house, I could tell that he was waiting on us, as he had assembled his friends and family. And when walking in, Cornelius fell to the ground before me as in worship, but I told him to stand back up, as I myself, am also a man.\n\nWe sat and talked, as I explained that a Jewish man is not to keep company with, nor enter into the house of a man from another nation, that it was unlawful. But God has shown me in a vision that I should not call any man common or unclean, therefore I am here without objection, for whatever reasons you have sent for me.\n\nCornelius explained that four days ago, a man in the brightest of clothing appeared to him, as he was fasting, and that his prayers were heard, and to send to Joppa for a man called Simon, whose surname was Peter, lodging by the sea, and you would speak to me and I would hear all things commanded to you by God.\n\nWatching this man, with his pleasant demeanor, and his relaxed temperament, and his soft voice, I pondered this as it was the same day the Spirit gave me the vision on the roof top. It was God, and it was all God that was putting this together for reasons that as yet I didn't know.\n\nAs the rather large group of us sat in silence, it was as if an outward force was working inward in each of us, an image of expressions from my soul, or maybe the heart of my heart, the morrow of my being, began articulating utterances from within. And I opened my mouth and said:\n\n\" _In a truth, I perceive that God shows no partiality, but in every nation, whoever fears Him in love is accepted by Him. The Word which God sent to the children of Israel, preaching peace through Jesus Christ—He is Lord of all...It was proclaimed throughout Judea, and began in Galilee after the baptism that John preached; how God had anointed Jesus of Nazareth with the Holy Spirit and with Power, who went about doing good and healing all who were oppressed...And we were witnesses of that which he did in the land of the Jews and in Jerusalem, whom they killed by hanging Him on a tree._\n\nIt was Him that God raised on the third day, and showed Him openly,...and He arose from the dead.\n\nAs I was still speaking these words, the Holy Spirit fell upon all those that heard, and those of the circumcision that were with me, believed also, as they too were astonished, as many as came on the trip with me. Because the Gift of the Holy Spirit had been poured out on the Gentiles also, and many were brought by God into the Church that day, His presence was more real in that place than it was when I walked with Him throughout Judea. Lives were changing before our eyes; mine too was evolving as God continued working in me.\n\nTraveling High\n\nNow in those days, that is, the early days of the called out ones coming together, many great works and miracles were showing multitudes the evidence of Christ and Him raised from among the dead. Many times a group would meet, and for the most part, it would be only two or three that had gathered. Disciples were added daily, and sometimes there were a thousand or even much more, that were added to those that came out from among the world, and its' way of thinking. These peoples' lives weren't being changed because of our power, nor because we were great speakers, but by the calling of the Holy Spirit that fell upon the many in our travels, of those that now lived a changed life. When there were meetings of large numbers, it was purely by the hand of God, for no effort was afforded from our part. I might walk from one city to another, meeting someone on the side of the road, and testifying of what I'd witnessed, and would be asked if I would come and lodge with them, for they too had family and friends that they would like for them too, to hear this great news. Living this life was exciting, and in no way was any day predictable. Normally it was but one or two others that listened as I traveled throughout.\n\nI would, on occasion, meet with one of the original disciples, but for the most part we journeyed alone, and separate. Several times my wife was to go with me, and many of the women's lives would be changed by her testimony, as she too could expound as the Spirit gave her utterance. But, by-in-large, each set out alone, as God would scatter us in every direction fulfilling His desire upon His Rock that I now understand is the Revelation of Himself.\n\nOne time, maybe five or six years after the resurrection, in a small village called Nain, not far from, but in the mountains, outside the city of Nazareth, I ventured. A quiet place, but many believers dwelled there, as on several occasions a disciple passed through and preached on the change that God was calling for from within, that this same neighbor, the one called the Christ, not so many years ago, lived and walked among them, and would expound on the change of what was happening in the lives and the heart of many. For many there also believed.\n\nThe group had grown, for many, and several of the men and women in that village were considering erecting a house where each could commonly meet, an organized place of worship. I listened as their excitement emanated from all around the room that we had collected in, and the ideas that arose from that excitement. Maybe they weren't quiet together on every issue that was being spoken about, but most had the same common ground of wanting a building dedicated for the meeting of the saints, a place of worship.\n\nIn that room were many sincere folks, ones that received the presence and indwelling of the Lord, but it seemed that the men of the highest nobler status were the ones pushing the hardest for the establishment of a house of God. The food was good, the crowd was cheerful, but the atmosphere was lacking one essential ingredient, the Spirit of Christ. Watching and listening as I observed the hugs and handshakes, the chatter of what was to happen and the prestige that it would give this small town to have such a place, and what it would mean to so many.\n\nStanding up, clearing my throat, and in a loud voice said: \"Men and women of Nain, keep silent and listen to what this man that walked in the days of Jesus' ministry with Him, has to say concerning this that you are about to do. Many of you mean well, but there are those among you that are looking for an outward construction, but lack the inward dwelling of Christ and His Spirit. This that you are about to do, ought not to be so, it was not in the beginning of this new life that he has built in us, nor will it be in any of the days to come. Those that are called up into this life, will go, we will not be asking those to come, to gather in a place built by the hands of man, His true Church is built on the Rock of His revelation, not upon a stone hued by mans' ideas. He asked that we should 'go ye into all the world, not forsaking any', but never has His Spirit shown that we should institutionalize the Rock in which He is building. I'd rather say that there are several amongst you that are without, that is the indwelling of Christ, that make pretense that they too have had this experience with Christ, and have not. They are those that are still filled with dead mans' bones, but want only to clean the outside of the vessel, and again, this ought not to be so. This Gospel of the Kingdom will be spread by folks like you and me, people sharing that which God has done, and still doing, not by erecting a shine, as I too had learned this from yesteryear. We show not ourselves in beauty, but in humility, not in fluent speech, but in those Words that he has appointed to us, not in zeal to worship that which our hands have made, but this which His Spirit points to, the only God that is living, and He can and will live in you.\"\n\nThe silence around the room was that of a secluded man standing completely still on a snow covered mountain top, some were smiling, but all were reflecting on the Words the Spirit had to say. As I continued: \"This, that God is putting together, let no man put asunder, for this, my brothers and sisters, is built by the hand of Christ, and not on the stature of man. The true Church is not a gathering, but of those that are called out from among the world and want to live this new Life, and share it with others along the way that we are led to walk. To make something tangible from that which is intangible is a mistake that I also, in times past, tried to do, but was told to go back off the mountain. Christ is alive, and I know that He lives in many of you, and it will be Him that gives the increase, not the ideas of our mind. Wait on Him.\"\n\n**********************\n\nIn those days, some nine or ten years after the resurrection of Christ, people were being added to the called out ones daily, sometimes tens of them, sometimes hundreds, and on a couple of occasions, a thousand or more. For as many believers that traveled from city to city, I would receive word almost daily of the progress of the forwarding of God's Kingdom. Many a-men were made disciples, had an encounter with the Lord and journeyed spreading that good news throughout. Now Saul, that we'd heard was surnamed Paul, was preaching throughout the land, and most of his times were spent in other nations, up along the north coast of the Great Sea, but preaching this same Jesus, the Son of God. I was told by one in this company of folks that Paul, and his companion Barnabas, both were again being searched out to be put to death for his testimony in Christ.\n\nIt was now about this time that I'd received the bad and sad news that my long-time friend James, the brother of John, was killed by King Herod, for at that time much expense was delegated toward harassing those that believed. John and I were friends, and much more than friends, we'd grown up together, spending not only our youth, but most all of our walk in Christ together, this was sad news. Each of us understood the consequences of our appointment in sharing the Gospel, but James was still a young man and had a great zeal for the Lord. He was sorely missed, and I hurt for his brother and parents also, for we were so close. But James' life, or death, was by no means in vain, for God had wrought great works through his hand, and by his willingness.\n\nHerod seeing that the death of James by his sword pleased the Jews, he also sent out seeking me, for much the same. It was then, during the feast of Unleavened Bread that Herod's men seized me, and placing me in prison, bound both hands and feet, and stripped naked, it was no small company of soldiers that were placed to guard me; in fact two were required on each side of me, even as I slept. All of this was done, not because I'd done anything wrong, and certainly not because I went against the Romans, but that Herod made favor with the Jews these harassments, and that gave him clout.\n\nI was not at all alone, for many of the company of believers and companions were constantly in prayer. There was no fear, for of a truth, my life had changed, and still continues to change, as I relinquish my control to the Father of all. There is no greater freedom, than the freedom one receives after giving up his own. I think we were all created to follow, and yes many are to lead, but the greatest of leaders are those that can serve and follow. God continued to move within my life and this also was a moment in time that was needed to bring me closer to Him.\n\nMy so-called trial would have been the next day, if not for the Passover, but again Herod was going to make favor with the scribes, Pharisees, elders, and priest of the Jews, the trial was to be the day after. But the night of the Passover an angel stood over me in the prison, a light so bright that it filled the jail, and said for me to rise quickly, and as I did, the chains fell off. I was then told to shod my feet, gird myself and follow him. As we passed through the first guard, and then the second, I thought this was a vision, not knowing that what was happening was real, but when the gate had been reached, and the irons fell off before us, the gate opened on its' own accord, and the angel was gone. Moments later, when I came to myself, I knew then that this was real and not a dream, and had been delivered out of the hands of Herod, and the expectations of the Jews.\n\nI, knowing where John and the others were, and at the house of Mary his mother; and after walking up the street, the air chilly, the night quiet, approaching the door, I knocked. A young girl answered, but when she had seen me, jumped as if she seen a ghost, slammed the door, and I could hear her running as if for her life. I continued knocking. It was but three or four minutes, and the door opened again, it was John, surprised but happy in a loud way, and I motioned that they were to keep silent, as I entered and shut again the door.\n\nThat night there was much rejoicing as I explained all that had happened, about the angel, and the things that the Lord was showing me, we all had a good time 'til daybreak, when much stirring and rustling was heard from the Romans outside. Later I'd heard that several of the guards were put to death because of what happened, but as far as us, we enjoyed each other, and caught up on all that God was doing through each.\n\nThere were many in Judea that believed, and the Word spread before us in every placed we were or had been. God's kingdom was growing daily as the news of this new Life was spreading.\n\nIt was not long after leaving and going to Caesarea that I heard the news that Herod, while giving orations to 'his' people was struck by God and died, being eaten by worms, but the Word of God grew and multiplied throughout all Judea and elsewhere. Herod's death being a sign that God was moving among all.\n\nAs I traveled in those days, many wonderful works and great miracles happened on a daily basis, and many were also led to follow in Christ as the Spirit gave them leave. Saul, whose surname was Paul traveled to many of the cities and many other nations, as from time-to-time I'd hear word of what God was doing through his life. I will admit that at first when I heard of Paul and the change he claimed to have in his life, I was a little skittish, and even though he and I haven't seen eye-to-eye in every detail, I believe the work he's doing in the name of Jesus is real. For he too has been threatened, beaten, stoned, shipwrecked, arrested, and vows to have him killed were often made, but he's never wavered, not an inch from the encounter he had with the Lord, yes, it was real, a fellow-apostle.\n\n**********************\n\nIn my days of traveling the cities of Judea, and on occasion, to Cyprus, and a few more of the distant places, I was always in contact with many believers, and each day was fulfilled with the excitement, mystery, and enjoyment of the Lord. And on this trip John and I ventured to Judea to a town called Machaerus, four or five miles east of the Salt Sea, and placed at the end of a ravine between two hills maybe not big enough to be called mountains, but rugged just the same. Both of us knew that this trip was necessary, but why, we had no idea. We had previously been in Medeba, which is northwest about fifteen miles and in the same large valley that we now traveled. It was a summer day, hot, humid, and the wind blowing out of the south, which it always does this time of the year, and talking with each other as we walked. John thought the people in Medeba, which we just left yesterday, were not as open to the Gospel as most of those on the other side of the Salt Sea, for the Word had not spread very much in this region. But the time there was not wasted, nor could it be, for when the Spirit moves one to go, the going is always peaceable, harmonious with what seemed ordained, as there is always a purpose.\n\nOn this trip, the one we just left, a young girl about the age of twelve, an only child and born in the late years of her parents, laid sick from a fever, and had been crippled from birth. Having heard that two of the Apostles were there, called on us to look upon their child, with hopes of her being healed, as they too had heard the news of Christ and His resurrection and how He still walked among His disciples and continued working through them. And once we'd laid hands on her, lifting her up by the hand, the fever was gone and her legs were straightened, all in the name of Jesus. The young girls' folks were ecstatic, but the town people thought it to be through sorcery, and tried mocking us with their trickery.\n\nOften when folks, and their religious ideas, feel threatened, many would attack with their imitation, or their counterfeit of what the Holy Spirit, and His power offers, with their less-than adequate forms of trickery.\n\nSo as it went, we did what was desired of us from the Spirit, and the awakening of the town, was most likely to come later from the Holy Spirit, so we left, not staying more than a few days. And now on the brink of the village of Machaerus, not more than ten furlongs, decided to stop and rest for the night, before entering the next morning just after the rising of the sun.\n\nIt was a pleasant evening, the sun still two hands above the horizon, the wind was a calm breeze, but still hot, as we settled between a huge boulder and a thicket of scrub brush. Laying back against the rock, feet stretched out before us, eating flat bread and a piece of dried fish, we relaxed watching the seagulls as they would make a circle above our head before returning to the sea. Once, two of the gulls were harassing a larger bird, attempting to get the larger to give up its' catch, which it did, and was caught in mid-air by the two much smaller one, but the weight of it was more than they could bear.\n\nA small fire was made, for the dead brush was in plenty, and we rested and talked a little, but mostly watched as the sky was still lively with the never disappointing fowl, and now the crawling creatures that were coming out of every hole, whether under a rock or from between the sage, we indulged in the best part of the day, resting.\n\nJust as the sun was about to go completely down, only a sliver winked to say its' goodbyes, John began talking, or maybe asking about the life we now had since the apparent death of Jesus, and why it was that He seemed more alive today than he did while we walked by His side. Many times I'd had the same thoughts, and had studied this with great reasoning, so I said as John nestled in what seemed like a tub scratched out of the sand into a bowl shape. \"Before the crucifixion, and especially until Pentecost, we did not have His Spirit, for He said the Comforter would be sent, and at that time and place none of us knew any of the meanings of the parables, or the saying, or the purpose of the places we went and the things we saw, until our eyes were opened. Our lives were changed that day, after receiving His presence, and all before, as we walked with Him, we had only the mind of man, and couldn't see beyond the natural, for our eyes kept us from seeing.\"\n\nIt was then that John crawled up out of his nest, excited, and said; \"You know, that also is what I thought it was, but needed a confirmation, thanks.\" He walked around awhile, talking to himself, talking to the sky, at least talking upward, flinging his arms in every direction, going in circles until the affirmation had settled deep inside, and then said, \"I could see before, but through a dark glass, but now I understand; He's alive in me, walking on earth in me, carrying out His Life and Will in me, no more death, just Life. I knew that the Spirit was given to us at Pentecost, but I guess I just didn't realize His complete presence on earth in me, and of course you and the others' also.\"\n\nTimes were good, a lot was happening, and we were all growing. It's so pleasant to see ones' life change after an encounter with the Lord, and it was happening everywhere we went; simply put, it was rearranging our lives. I was just a glimpse of the man that I was before the resurrection and the out-pouring of the Holy Ghost. Thinking back, it's now hard to relate to the person I was, all had changed, and all that was required on my part was, to follow Him when asked, no efforts were made by me nor for me, it was all Christ's doings in me. And to watch this young man have the blinders removed, and understand the alive Christ within himself, is an experience that will never lose its' excitement.\n\nThe next morning, before dawn, for the night sky was totally dark, and only a hint of light appeared in the eastern sky, and one had to study to see the small suggestion of haze that was beginning to show, I lay awake, doing what I've always done; ponder. I lie there silent thinking on the meanings of each event as it happened, and on occasion, would see through it to the implications that Christ intended in his hidden Ways. The first sound of John stirring was that of a branch breaking as he tried to build the fire from the spark of last nights' ashes. It was a warm morning, and no dew had fallen, the air dry and more stars shown than usual, the beginning of another exciting day.\n\n\"Good morning, how'd you sleep?\" Looking at John as he blew on the few remaining embers, I could see smoke, but no flame.\n\nBacking away from the handful of smoking twigs and brush, he coughed, set it down and rubbing his eyes, said; \"not a wink.\" I laughed watching him twist and turn, but not able at this point to give up, he kept blowing until the magic was done; a flame.\n\n\"The 'something' that happen in me last night, opened up a whole new vision, so I stayed awake all night in excitement, to see all that I could see. Jesus is at least as alive in us now as He was when we walked with Him on earth.\"\n\nI spoke back; \"More so. Before, we needed not faith, because we had Jesus next to us, now after He has revealed himself alive, our faith is what brings a reality to the purpose of life, we are no longer blinded. It has not been long since I too realized His presence, but have also learned that the mustard seed, that we are, is as yet, but a sapling, the real growth is yet to come.\"\n\n\"You mean it gets better?\"\n\n\"I suspect so. I'm just learning this as you are. For the men we were, no longer exist, we willingly have laid down our lives for a better one, not a reformed life, but one that's being transformed by Him. A life that we no longer have to make decisions, we just listen as He arranges everything for us, and continue following. This is not for us alone, but to all that are willing, for there is nothing special about who we are that matters, but what we are; His.\" John just smiled, the fire was built, and his face was brighter than the flames.\n\nAuthor's note: God will use us for 'what' we are in Him, regardless of what we've done or not done, which is the 'who'. The 'who' that we each are, is not important, it's earthly; the 'what' is that which each is; the child of God, for he lives in each. Read 1 John chapter 3.\n\nNot long thereafter, bellies full, filled with amazement and wonder, we both headed toward the town of Machaerus. You could see the tell-tale signs of the wind in the mountains, as small clouds of sand were swirling on the leeward side of each peak. We walked in on the northeast side of town where small stone houses had been erected, some from handmade brick. The streets were sand, well-trodden, and the town of unexceptional size, and the folks modest in every way, as we could see small groups gathered as we approached the middle of the square. A man with a robe, that looked as if it had not been cleaned in several weeks, approached us and was the first to speak; introducing himself as an elder, and knowing who we were, as he had had a vision from an angel that we were to come on this appointed day, and was waiting. He explained: \"Our town and most all the folks in it have been overwhelmed and preoccupied in, and with depression. This is now to the point that more than a few have killed themselves, and those remaining are of a very low esteem.\"\n\nI could tell by his countenance that the man was worried and at his wits-end. Looking around, I could now see, that was there was no laughter or even smiles in the people we've encountered thus far; he was more than concerned as he continued speaking.\n\n\"We had heard through various people that there was a group that is growing daily, and about a man called Simon, who surname is Peter, and another man from Tarsus name Paul, and both and the other's carry the power of the Lord wherever they go. So several weeks ago, myself and a friend began praying and fasting about this, for we too are believers, and want Gods' movement upon our town and the people in it. And two nights ago during a dream, an angel of the Lord woke me from sleep, and said that the Lord God has heard our prayers, and moved with compassion, has sent two men to expound on the news of Christ Jesus, Him crucified and raised from the dead. You must be them.\"\n\nJohn looked at me, and I him, for we knew now what this trip was about, and were thankful that another group, maybe the whole town, was open to hearing about the works of God, through His son Jesus, who lives today in each that would receive Him. This is the Good News that were both set out to tell and express through the Power given to us, and we were to also give that same Power to them.\n\n\"We are them, I am Peter and this is John, we both walked with the Lord during the days of His ministry, and were witnesses of His life and His resurrection. Can we go somewhere to talk?\"\n\nThe anticipations of our arrival must have been high; for several of the concerned folks were gathered in a small room as the three of us walked in, and were introduced. There were small smiles upon the faces of those collected in that room, but it was easily discerned that the smiles were covering worried feelings. For most held their shoulders low, and slumped in a forward position, indicating a low demeanor with heartache. We were introduced.\n\n\"Men, brothers in Christ, we too knew it was urgent to get here, for the Lord had placed you and this town on our heart, not but three days ago. John and I both walked with the Lord during His ministry on earth, were daily with Him, and did not understand who we were with, until the days of Pentecost, when each received Power by and of the Holy Spirit. Even I did not believe that he was resurrected from the dead until he had revealed Himself to us, and I could see with my eyes. But even then I could not fully understand until a mighty rushing Wind had blown upon us. To know Jesus externally, is not a bad thing, but to know Him alive internally, is that of faith, and is the greatest of all matters.\"\n\nZecharius, the man we first met in the town square, seated himself on the floor, his close friend beside him, and listened with all intensity, as I continued explaining that the baptism by the Spirit, and His indwelling in us, was the means of our life, and the motivation of living. For in truth, there is no life without Him, He alone is the covering of our lives, and always expresses Himself in Love. I told them of the separation and condemnation that was taught to all, by those that served the Temple, with all their rules and regulations; and that Christ came to set us free from all of that, and Free we are. And that freedom expresses itself in a Love that cannot condemn, nor does it separate, nor can it be contained in any one person, but thru the whole body of Christ. For we are His lively stones, with Christ as the Chief corner stone, and fitly arranged and joined together to make up the true body of Christ.\n\n\"We were bound to the many laws of the Jewish religion,\" Zecharius began speaking, \"and I think to the ones that enforced them, and were taught that we are not to associate with those of other nations. Our people flourished in times past, but this spirit of depression has a grip on us and has not let go, and our people are dying. For the bondage of religion, and our acceptance of it, is more than our people can bear.\"\n\nJohn leaned over and said something in my ear, and we were both in agreement as to the problem that had a hold on this city, and the folks in it. Still standing, I walked to the stone table that had evidently been used for eons to grind and roll out flour, and leaning against it I began to speak as the Spirit gave utterance.\n\n\"Men, brothers, I perceive that a spirit of selfishness has been carried here from those of a sect that want you in bondage, and all for themselves. There are those that teach that theirs', and their religion alone, are for those of the seed of Abraham, and I too thought the same at one time in my life, but God spoke to me and said 'what He has cleaned, call not common.' The Lord Himself said that God so loves the world and all the world, all those in it, because each were made in His similitude, each belong to Him, that He gave His only begotten Son; and each and all can believe. But you have been given a yoke that you cannot bear, a burden that you cannot carry without these repercussions; therefore all those of this city have attempted to walk in both worlds, but they must not be combined. You have believed in Christ Jesus, and Him crucified and Him raised from the grave, believe also that He who can resurrect your Spirit can deliver you from this bondage that was set upon you. For what God has put together, let not man put asunder.\" This I testified about while still leaning on the work table, and all gave attention to the words as I hesitated to allow the word to be digested. \"Now as each have fallen into the teachings of the scribes, Pharisees, and even the priest of the temple, know ye that you have been set free, free from the bondage of effort, free from the yoke of pleasing men, for Jesus came to give Life, and give it abundantly to all that pursue Him.\"\n\nAs I spoke, a Light began shining from within the room, a Light that came from everywhere, for the Light drove shadows from the room, or could one yet pinpoint from where it came. Small particles floated about the room, but were not falling, as many traveled in an upward or sideways motion, it was like Manna coming from Heaven and layering themselves upon all. And I looked outside through the doorway; I could tell that the same was happening throughout the whole city. People were standing, looking up, arms wide open, and many fell to their knees as this and the brightness of the Light shone upon all. In an instant the entire town broke out in praise and worship, for their hearts were filled with the joy and freedom from the Lord. A deliverance had happened. And there were more than twelve hundred that day brought into the intimate fellowship with the Lord God.\n\nJohn and I stayed there many days teaching and exhorting those in the Lord, and many, if not all, were set free from the tyranny that the elders had burdened those people with, and the oppression lifted, along with the depression. We thus traveled again to Jerusalem.\n\nMy Other Eyes\n\nAfter leaving Machaerus, John and I were heading towards Jerusalem, and knew of a small villa, maybe I should call it an encampment, due west on the east side of the Salt Sea. It was about five miles, and a man there ferried people across for a small sum of money, and if he's still there it could save us about three hard days of journeying around the waters, so we took a chance. Anyway we were to meet Andrew, my brother, in Hebron in a few days, for we made this arrangement several weeks ago when we'd split up, us going southeast and him going southwest.\n\nIt was late evening when we walked up to the camp; it was still there; said our hellos' and made preparations to leave the next morning to cross this rather large body of salty water. There were no fish or fishing in the Salt Sea, it was dead to all life that we knew of, and was the final containment of the waters of the Jordan. Mountains on the west side and desert on the east, it was just a large body of water that served no purpose except to extract salt from by damming up a lesser cove and letting the sun bake it dry, for which there was a high demand for the salt.\n\nThat night around a make-shift cook stove, the wife of the man that was to transport us cooked rolled bread with figs in the center, and gave us both a cup of fresh camels' milk, and we talked about this and that. This small group of folks, I think they were all one family, have never heard the name, much less the story of Jesus and were very interested as we took turns telling the news. Nothing special happened that night, but I believe that each of them were intrigued with the telling of Jesus and Him being Christ, for His presence was certainly with us, maybe they were even fascinated, but the whole story was told.\n\nThe next morning, after another cup of camels' milk, we went to the small boat that was pulled on the shore and looked as if it hadn't been moved in weeks. The sun now barely above the hill behind us, the sky red, but very few clouds, as we climbed aboard, knowing that a storm was on the way, but all thought we could beat it before it broke loose, for the voyage was to be no longer than three or four hours. It was a fifteen mile trip, uneventful, except when the tops of the highest hill peaks before us could barely be seen, the clouds began to gather, and thunder could be heard in the distance. Not wanting to be caught in the storm, two rowed instead of just the one man, John and I took turns, for there were only two ores, but all got relief by swapping back and forth. Each man would row hard until he got tired and another would take his place, this exchange happened several times, but we made it before any of the rain fell. In fact it didn't rain at all. Since we had about twenty-five more miles to go to reach Hebron, decided to walk a couple of hours, until the sun was hid behind the mountains, and then rest for the night. We had met no one on the trail as we walked at a slow pace; just reminiscing about all that God was doing since He'd sent forth His disciples to tell this good news of his Son, and Him alive and well, still walking upon the earth in the presence of His people.\n\nJohn got to thinking about his brother James, and how God had used him in so many ways. I think John was sorely missing him, but was eased with the conversation we had about this very special friend and brother. What a horrible way to die, but James knew the restrictions that the Romans, and hierarchy of the temple, put on those that followed Jesus and His teachings, and to him, it was well worth it. So as we continued walking we rambled about James' love for the Father and our love for James; and of course the Father also.\n\nNear dark, one of us spotted a small cave, or rather an overhang, on the side of a precipice not more than a hundred meters off the path, and decided this was where we were to spend this night. Building a small fire, we cooked the four eggs that the ferry man had given us, and the small piece of bread, before calling it a complete day; and having the ledge to keep the dew off; it was a good trip thus far. That night as we sat relaxing, we spoke again about James, and then about Steven, and talked of some of the ideas that floated in each our heads.\n\nBeside the fire was a bush that I kept watching, as a caterpillar had almost eaten every single leaf off of. It was a fuzzy little thing, orange with dark gray stripes, not more than two inches long, and smaller than the circumference of my little finger. It took less than three minutes for the creature to eat an entire leaf, and then move to the next, and I began to wonder. \"Was man in this world as the caterpillar is?\" I spoke out loud, reflecting back on my younger years, I think I was just like this soon to be insect. This creature had been eating all summer, as much as he could cram in, but not growing a smidgen, just gulping up as much as he could take in, which seemingly didn't make any difference, except for the fertilizer piling up around the trunk of the brush. Still thinking out loud, sort of rambling on about what I see in man, in comparison to this crawly thing, and then I asked the question, expecting no reply. Is man, that is without a relationship with God, like this caterpillar, eating all or taking in all of this world, and the things therein, but going nowhere until he has built himself a cocoon, where he then becomes blind, restricted, and living as if sound to sleep? Does not every man do as I did, and walk this world with his eyes open, but see nothing; eating, drinking and have his fun, but going nowhere, until the spring of his life, when the cocoon is ruptured, the man is awakened, and comes forth as a new creature? Are we all born as larvae, an eating machine, a sort of parasite, immature in every way, but destined to become a moth or butterfly, and then as we seek the wholeness of life, become nothing, wrapped in our individual cocoon, lying dormant until the Spirit awakens in our body in a new form, and the transformation takes place; not that we determined this, but God. I know that no man can build himself, or at least to any effect, save the hand of God being upon him. But yet we struggle to achieve, finding nothing worthwhile, until each gives up on this life, laying it aside, and allowing God to do that which every man was created for. That is; a butterfly.\"\n\nJohn just smiled. I think he saw what I was saying.\n\nAfter a few moments John spoke what was on his mind, and it was somehow along the same line. He talked in an almost whisper when his insight came out.\n\n\"Peter, I've known you most of my life, and I want to ask you if you've noticed that we disciples all acted about the same way when we were walking with Jesus? There were miracles happening often, people being healed, unclean spirits driven out, even several being raised from the dead; but did you notice that we gave more attention to the gift that was given, than to the Giver? Did you see that we gave more credence to the blessing than we did to the Blesser, more devotion to the healed, than the Healer; more to the deliverance than the Deliverer? Of course we had to walk this walk, but when that which is perfect, (which is Love), has come, then that which is in part, (which is virtually everything else), is done away with, leaving only the emptied vessel, readied only then to be filled.\n\nI just smiled at John, we were both on the same road, and both knew that much growth had taken place in each of us; of a truth, not just us, but all the students following the Lord were growing. At this point in our lives, we now realized that growth was a major part of Life, and we were now just coming out of this cocoon, wrinkled, wet, and still not able to fully fly. So the best is yet to come, and at least we had enough maturity to understand that we were still immature, and not yet fully understanding; but growing.\n\nThe next morning John and I woke refreshed, ate a few figs, drank from the skin containing our water supply, kicked dirt over the few remaining live coals, and headed west to Hebron. Neither knew if we'd get there before Andrew, or vice-versa, but it was a pleasant morning to walk with the sun to our backs. As we traveled, both ruminated about James, him fishing, him walking with our small group with the Lord, and him allowing Gods' power to flow thru, and the growth of so many, as he ministered in the Lord.\n\nIt was not but maybe twelve or fifteen miles of easy walking, even though in was mostly uphill, and we'd make it well before sun-down.\n\nIt was still forenoon when a large group of men and women, with their camels, goats and donkeys, crossed paths with us. Their leader, an elderly man dressed in a colorful long robe, and a turban that I had not seen before, for they were from a tribe that was not be known to me, stopped to chat a few minutes. The man's beard was worn down to his waist, and his smile was genuine, asked where we were going, for their caravan was heading north to Jerusalem. John spoke first and told them that we too were going to Jerusalem, but had to pick up a brother named Andrew in Hebron, and then would soon leave north to be in the holy city in maybe three days. We then introduced ourselves, and they too were from a smaller tribe of the Israelites, and had heard some kind of news of a man and His disciples making waves in Judea, Samaria, Galilee and many of the other regions thereabout, and were intrigued, and wanting to know more, went searching for any remnant of His disciples.\n\nHe'd told us in a very soft expression, his head drooped down looking toward the sand; that their family, which is this large band of people, searched for the called-out-ones in hopes that they would expound to them these new oracles from God, and maybe even be given a miracle. For they too were in need of a healer, because the last four babies born in their extended family, had been born withered, each from different parents.\n\nWe talked a little longer, and I could tell by the tone of his voice that they were concerned if they'd done something wrong, lost favor with God, or just maybe, this was a tribulation to bring them to this message of the Kingdom of God.\n\nI told them about Jesus, Him being the son of God, Him crucified, and of our redemption from our sins, and He being resurrected, and the message was readily accepted. For he told us of the emptiness of their lives, their adherence to the rules of the temple, but no one or nothing cared about them or made any difference in their life, and supposing they didn't know of any true power; but this Jesus that they'd heard about did. And they were going to Jerusalem and even farther if they had too, expecting a new revelation and maybe their babies would be healed, but as for now, they mostly wanted answers.\n\nStanding, my face to his, I placed both hands on his shoulders, John beside him with his hands on the man's head, we prayed.\n\nAfter a short prayer, all of us still touching, I looked this bearded man in the eyes and said; \"go forth to your families, your children have been healed, and the Power of the Spirit has fallen upon you, and all that are yours'.\"\n\nThe man fell to the ground, worshipped God in praise, jumped as if he were a young man, and ran to the folks in his caravan to tell them the News, for the Holy Spirit had leaped in him with all vigor. As he ran toward the group, two men ran toward him, both telling the news of their babies being healed by straightening their arms and legs, and about the others two also.\n\nWe left, but could hear great rejoicing as the hill before was climbed. It was well after an hour of walking, that we could still hear the shouts of joy. We were praising also.\n\nThe sun was now over the mountains as we entered Hebron, a little later than thought, but there never-the-less. The city was busy with people going in every direction, and the streets seemed filled with six or so herds of goats, not large herds, but herds just the same. Small street-side shops of folks selling their wares and produce lined on each side of the city square, with a drinking well placed in the center. It was a nicely organized city, with the many torches that lined the street, and the people appeared pleasant.\n\nOur first stop was to take a long cool drink from the fountain, for all we had for the last few days was the heated water in our goat skins, sufficient, but not the tastiest, being it was stored in there some three or four days ago. Just as we approached the well, I heard a familiar voice that called out; 'Simeon'. Turning to my left, and not seventy-five feet away, and clean as a pin, was Andrew. For John and I were covered in dust, sand, and soot from our overnight fire, we were filthy, but glad to see him. We said our hellos', asked about each other's health, dusted our clothes, and followed Andrew to a place that he had waylaid as a temporary lodge while in wait for us. It was out of the heat of each day's sun, now darkened, set back in an alley, therefore, much quieter than that of the main street; it was perfect for the needed rest that John and I were looking forward to. After just a few minutes of reminiscing on the high-lights of the last couple of weeks, Andrew mentioned that he was missing James with great sorrow and was saddened. Just the reference of his name brought a trickle of tears down Johns' face, but he was okay, just missing him with compassion, and said; \"it was an honor to have James as a brother, and that his presence will forever be with those that his life touched.\" All of us sat silent as the camaraderie set in and ran its' course. This was fellowship without speaking.\n\nSome quarter hour later I mentioned that John and I were hungry, but first needed to wash the dust off, and maybe wash our clothes. Andrew knew of a man-made pond that was ditched and dammed to catch the run-off of a wet weather creek not far from the center of town, and that it would suffice to meet our needs. And after that we'd eat and resupply for our trip to Jerusalem that started in the morning.\n\nIt was good being with my brother, and it was good for the three of us, one missing, to be together and talk out concerns about the death of James, truly, he was sorely missed. The four of us spent so much time together, growing up and walking with Jesus, it was an odd feeling with one not among us.\n\nThat night, with the air warm, the street still busy, the three of us sat near the square in the middle of town and talked, catching up mostly on the things that God was doing through of lives. Each had his own stories, and each listened with intensity as it was obvious that the Lord was using all that would follow Him in the forwarding of His Kingdom, it was enjoyable.\n\nThe next morning we were up early, John and Andrew stirring some hour after I had already awakened, kinks worked out of our joints, wide awake, we headed north toward Jerusalem. It was a hard two day trip if we were to travel the mountain tops, if choosing to go the shortest route, but we opted to go west and then north through Beth Haccerem, and not having to cross all those mountains again. It was one of those beautiful days that made traveling pleasant, and having the three of us together again made it that much better. The sun was on our backs and a large valley stood before us, the birds singing, the night creatures heading back under cover, we walked to the center of the dish between the two hills before turning north. It was scattered with many flocks of sheep and goats, some going north, and some traveling south, but the shepherds were friendly, as frequently we'd stop and talk a few minutes. During a long stretch of emptiness, John started making animations out of the puffy white cloud that were sprinkled here and there, and it wasn't long before Andrew and I both began seeing all kinds of strange things those clouds could resemble; it was fun. The land was flat and travel was easy. We'd occasionally still speak of James, but I really did think that we'd talked the biggest part of his death dealings out.\n\nThat evening, about an hour before sun-set, we decided to make camp part way up a hill, for we were nearing the town of Bethlehem, and the air a little chilly, and knew that the nights get much colder. Going up the hill would get us above the colder air that would settle in the valley, and make for a much more pleasant night. Gathering brush and what sticks we could find; made a fire and began resting for the next days' journey. We weren't alone, for three more camps could be seen within shouting distance of ours after dark had fallen; and the valley was speckled with the fires of the many well-traveled neighbors.\n\nBesides a goat skin filled with water, we'd not taken much for food, just a small loaf of bread, it was enough, but we weren't going to feast that night. But soon a man hollered toward our camp, asking to come in, a friendly guy, but also looked to be a little tired. We talked about his sheep, that still grazed in the green grass below us, and he'd talk of his family that traveled with him, he'd speak on the good times of being a herdsman, and a few of the mishaps along the way, we all enjoyed chatting with this friendly face. Maybe it was an half hour later that he'd noticed that we traveled lite, and wanted to know if the three of us would join him and his family for dinner; the answer was yes.\n\nGoat's milk, wonderful loaves of bread, butter churned last night, cheese, and both hind portions of a sheep that was slaughtered last evening was what he offered, and we all said among ourselves that it really never gets any better than this. He had a nice family; all were well behaved, and all wanted to ask questions about our quest, and all waited for their turn to talk, starting with the oldest first and working down the chain.\n\nWhen they'd heard that we were a few of the disciples of Jesus, which they were very well versed in, the conversation changed to a different topic. The man's sister had gotten hurt a few years back when the goat she was milking kicked the leg off the short stool she was sitting on, she then fell over, hitting her head on the corner of a stone trough. The elder man said; \"although hurt, she seemingly recovered, but had severe headaches. But after about two weeks, was bed-ridden, and began having convulsions, later diagnosed as seizures, and now was completely disabled. This only happened less than a month ago. Along with being cared for constantly, she also would speak some of the most vulgar words that man or beast had ever heard, which was not like her at all, she had been a kind lady. And they were on their way to Jerusalem to find some of the called-out-ones to set her free.\"\n\nAndrew was the first to go to her tent, and seeing her lying on the bed-roll, walked over the now still and sleeping body, and John and I right behind him. Andrew turned to look at us, shrugging his shoulders, and said that something must be done, for compassion ran completely throughout the room. I then held her right arm, John the left, and Andrew lifted her head slightly, we all prayed. And in a moment, looking at where her eyes were, said; \"Woman, peace be with you, rise and see the glory of God, for Jesus has delivered you from this that was stolen.\" Immediately she awoke, stood and praised the Lord with all enthusiasm, being healed, but only remembering the headaches but none of the seizures.\n\nThere was great rejoicing as the three of us left their camp, going back to ours', to prepare to enter the Holy City sometime before noon.\n\nMeeting of the Hearts\n\nA large group of apostles and believers had assembled in Jerusalem, and it was good. This was a rare time that many of those that were sent forth could gather and explicate and explore what each were doing as each traveled the direction that God led them in. It was a time to exhort one another, and learn the different ways that the Lord was leading, it was certainly enjoyable listening as one by one would detail the happenings of the Holy Spirit, and another would then expound on what he saw.\n\nThere must have been more than a hundred and twenty of us meeting here; and the new ways, and the words of knowledge, and the words of wisdom was being heard and spoke in every different direction, but orderly, all by the hand of God. There was much singing, praising and worship going on as with that many believers', how could it be different? And it was good that meetings like this took place from time to time, as some journeyed to Mesopotamia, some to Galatia, some even farther than that, and a few went east out into the desert, and one small group went all the way south into Egypt. The word of God was spreading throughout every region.\n\nIt was good to see Matthew, Thomas, Judas, and all the other apostles, and several of the women had also met with us, along with the many disciples, it was nice hearing about all the works and wonders that were happening through the name of Jesus.\n\nWe had been meeting for several weeks, people popping in, some having to leave, the news of the Gospel traveling in and out from every direction; it was good. Bother Paul, the one whose life was changed on the road to Damascus, now called an apostle, came and shared great news of the works of God; for of a truth, he carried the message of Christ to many regions that were inaccessible to many of us, and it was incredible to hear all his goings on. He declared of the many miracles and wonders that God had worked through them among the Gentiles. It was an absolute pleasure meeting those who traveled with him, for they too had a great zeal for the Lord.\n\nThis was a time to exchange how the Holy Spirit was moving among His own, and how we all had the privilege to witness it, all hungered and thirsted for more as He moved within those seeking Him in the many nations.\n\nSometimes we'd get into a slight debate as of how the message should be presented, and a few times it would turn into a confrontation, but all-in-all, it went well. For the Spirit of Christ dwelled among many, and unless one's flesh came out, we continued in one accord.\n\nLet me set back and reflect a minute as to the growth of each of us, especially me. I was in my late forties at this time, and most of the original disciples were. Although much growth had taken place in each, we were by no-means fully mature, as for me; no more than the rest, we all had a ways to go, but still learning daily. At each meeting many topics would be discussed, many subjects mulled over, and since we didn't really know what or how to do this, we were completely dependent on the presence of Christ being with us, but I have to admit, sometimes we, especially me, would get out in front of Him, and make what I now call a happy little mistake. To put it bluntly, set sail before all the fishing tackle had been boarded.\n\nMany would come to me asking questions of what they should do, or how a certain things could happen. Things like, who could come to Christ and His teachings, and what, if any restrictions were to be placed on those of other backgrounds, should or should not we baptize those of another sect, and does proof of His indwelling need to be shown before any are accepted? The issue of circumcision was brought up often, and the matters, at times, would become overwhelming, it would, at stretches, be more than this finite creature named Peter, could solve. Many moments, I would be in over my head, but would take a stab at it anyway; my mistake. At one time I appointed that certain restriction were to apply, such as staying away from things strangled, and had even given in on circumcising, knowing that man is not justified by his works, or the flesh; but it happened anyway. I may have been what one would call middle-aged, but apparently not very mature in Christ at this time in my life.\n\nAt each stage of my life where growth was apprehended, where light of revelation was conceived, and even where knowledge was being obtained greatly, I would truly grow, but evidently not to the place that I'd thought I was. As a young man, I thought I had life by the bridle, but learned just what was missing after meeting the Christ. Then again before His crucifixion, when I thought I was top leader of the disciples, to find out, after being rebuked, that I was my own fool. Later, during the Pentecost experience, when great, mighty, and wonderful things happened thru the Holy Spirit, I thought that my life was set on top of the world, and in a way it was, but not quite where I thought I was. I had grown, that is a fact, but not to the end of the means, it was just another stepping-stone, but then again thought that where my life was now, placed me as high as one could go, but this was not so, and that's a fact. And now that my hair and beard is turning gray, meaning, at this meeting with the other apostles, Paul included, it seems that I would have learned by now; but I once again, trying to play the big-shot, stuck all ten toes in my mouth.\n\nLooking back, I was in no way a failure, although that was exactly how I felt, but at another place of learning, a place to fall, but also a place to let God stand me back up again, and continue with this journey He had set for me. Not knowing at the time that this was my walk, one ordained by the Lord.\n\nBut it was now time for this man to journey again north, but this time farther north, probably around the horn inlet of the Great Sea, but stopping at Capernaum to see my wife before going further.\n\nIn this place of coming together, here in Jerusalem, was wonderful for all, and just about everyone was there at one time or another, for we'd met for several weeks now, and many great things were being composed by the Lord's hand being on each. Without going into all the details, I can tell you that the might of God's hand is either growing in strength, or we believers are receiving It with greater capacity, for the improvement of the power of His Love is growing within us mightily as our walk with Him continues.\n\nI left towards the north while some were still rejuvenating, but I know that each received an energy that was somewhat like that of the days of Pentecost. I was excited to go share that which God was doing within me, with as many as would listen, and I was also excited about seeing my wife, as it's been many months since we'd shared a day together.\n\nIt took seven days to get back to Capernaum, because the six of us stopped at Scythopolis where many were eager to hear more about the Words that God was giving us, but after one night I left again going to Gadara by myself, leaving the others' behind. It was there that a close friend of mine lived, name Lazariah, a true brother in Christ and a man of great wealth, but humble in every way. He too received the Holy Ghost at Pentecost with the rest of us, and was on a level with Christ, that at long stretches at a time, would hear from Him daily, a man that loved his relationship with the Lord.\n\nIt was late in the evening, the sun had already set, fog began to blow in with the south breeze that would sometimes get captured in these mountain valleys to form fog that was much too thick for traveling, but I made it to his home sound and safe.\n\n\"Good evening my brother, hope all is well, and maybe you could spare some time for an old friend.\" I said all this before he even knew who it was in the dark, but recognized my voice.\n\n\"Peter, my friend, I was expecting you some few days ago, but never-the-less welcome, come in, sit with me.\"\n\nIt was late fall, the air cool, but it couldn't put a damper on our warm friendship. Saying my 'hellos' to his family, we sat beside the door and talked looking over the low lying fog at the many stars that stood out on such a crisp night, we both had a lot to say, and to listen too. For he too was an ambassador of Christ, and spends many of his days expounding to many on the Word of God, for God has wrought many wonderful works and miracles through his hands. An authentic believer that puts his assets to the helping of the saints, a man of true internal means, for he lived daily the life that he professed. Lazariah told of the people healed and about the several that were delivered from spirits that were unclean, but mostly of the accepted response of those wanting to meet and know this man Jesus; and many met Him from within. It was pleasant seeing my good friend again, and most of the night was spent exchanging the happenings of the last few years, catching up on all that God was doing.\n\nIt was early when I woke, laying still and silent as I meditated on the new day, and if I was strong enough to get all the way to Capernaum, and do it all in one day. I had told Lazariah that I was to head out early, and it was now about two hours before sunrise, and instead of lying here, might as well get up and leave, for I had about thirty miles yet to travel. And seeing my precious wife again was the motivation of the day, but then again, only God knows what's been stored for this day.\n\nThe night breeze of the morning was cool with a crisp hint in the air, a chill that would make one shiver if just sitting, but I was set out to walk the whole distance in one day if possible, the perfect temperature for my traveling. I was to walk along the west coast of the Sea of Galilee where every few miles I would encounter another town or city, my work getting there was already cut out for me, and I was excited, and feeling strong for a man in his mid-forties.\n\nIt was an uneventful trip thus far, starting to get light; and the breeze off the sea was much warmer, but I had, at this time, just came up to the town of Magdala and still had some eight miles yet to go, and still excited. I think that God had prepared this day for me to make it all the way home, for other than speaking a few times to the people that I'd pass, nothing seemed to slow the pace down.\n\nThe coast gets a little steep as I approached Capernaum, and could now see the flicker of light, at least now and then, and my enthusiasm was running high as day gave way to night. I think my wife knows I am coming, for Andrew was to stop and tell her, but I'm not sure as I advanced toward our home and it was now in sight. No one was waiting, nor watching as the sound of my heavy foot-steps pounded on the hard ground of the entrance-way as I entered. There she was, cooking a leg of something over an open fire, looking as beautiful as the day we wed, I was glad to be home.\n\nWhen she turned around, seeing me, chirped like a song bird, and ran and gave me the biggest hug. \"Been waiting on you, thought it would be a might earlier though, this goat has been ready for three hours, I hope it's not burnt pass the eating stage.\" She said as were still embracing.\n\n\"My love, all I had on my mind these passing miles were you, the food smells and sounds good, but let me hold you a few more minutes first.\" She smiled, we held each other's hand, talked a little bit, and then realized just how hungry I really was; it was good to be home, to be next to her, to sit beside the woman that is the greatest of all help-mates.\n\nAs I'd said earlier, I had the complete support from my wife, and she encouraged me in every way. She'd known in my youthful years of the twisting in the soul, the knotting of my stomach, of the missing peace of my life, and fortified every support toward the ministry she could, it pleased her to please the longing held deep within me. She knew who Jesus was, and knew of the personal relationship I had with Him, and she had it too, and we both continue with Him each day, just sometimes in different directions. Our love for each other is real, and when I'm gone for so long, it loses nothing, it sustains us both, we are both able to love each other the same, whether we're near or far apart.\n\nEarlier, while still in Jerusalem, Judas, the brother of Jesus, told that he was going north, maybe all the way to Tarsus, for there was a call out from them beckoning the apostles to come forth and show and help Paul in the teachings of the revelations from God. He was then to report back to those of us now staying in Capernaum, Chorazin, and Bethsaida the news and happenings of Galatia. It might be a week from now, it might even be much longer than that before he makes it this far south again, but all were waiting; and each knew of his soon arrival, as we talked with one another every few days. We didn't meet in a group, per-se, but somebody would talk with someone else, and our messages would be relayed, and by the end of every few days everyone knew all the goings-on. Our fellowship with each kept us all going, and the presence of Christ was our backbone.\n\nIt was a pleasant evening when my wife and I returned from a small fishing trip. Well it really wasn't as much about fishing as it was just being alone together. Our time together was a precious commodity, and every day we made the best of it. The sun was barely over the mountains to the west, when all was straightened in the boat, that we sat on the beach to relax some more. A large school of fish began to feed just off the shore bank, not more than seventy-five feet from us, and we looked at each other, without saying a word, and knew that this trip wasn't about fishing, so we just sat, not enticed at all that we didn't catch any.\n\nShe too heard many revelation from the Lord, and I was always excited to hear what was being said through her, the might of God was flowing throughout all the regions, and it was certainly nice to learn of the wonders and works thru others, especially hers'. She knows that what I'm doing is important, and knows that this message of the Kingdom of God has to go forth, and she also knows of the dangers that lie in wait, but, to her it's worth the risk. She is not a woman that's ruled by fear, but her faith and belief that what God started, He is faithful to see it thru to the end.\n\nIt had now been dark for an hour or so, and we still lay on the sand watching the incoming tide, the thousands of stars, and hadn't spoken a word in a while, when the sound of my brother's voice was heard from a distance, probably from our house, calling for us, and he sounded a little excited. As soon as we stood, he recognizes us and walked in our direction.\n\nAfter we said our 'hellos', spoke about the beauty of the night, Andrew told that Judas had just returned from Galatia, and about the people wanting to hear about this Gospel, and their hunger for the Words were great. And particularly had asked for me to come, which I knew was going to happen, for I too knew, weeks ago, saw that this northern trip was the next road to travel, for Jesus had put them on my heart.\n\nAndrew thought that I might want to know this information, and that was the excitement that we were hearing in his voice. So we talked a while longer, walked back to the house, said our good-byes, and he left, leaving the rest of the night just for us, it was nice, this reunion, so we stayed up most of the night just laughing, talking and enjoying being with each other.\n\nYou know, life is a lot more pleasant when a body has that special someone that they can pour their heart out too, and the last few days have been wonderful. We have total trust in each other, and the time spent apart, we really aren't apart, as for me, and I think her also, we are never separated except in body, for our hearts are always together. I know that I've given my life to the forwarding of God's Kingdom, and I think from deep within that I'd probably testify of Christ and Him resurrected, even without her support, but having the extraordinary wife that I do, helps tremendously. Love conquers all things, and I'm not talking about that worldly love, I'm speaking of the kind of Love that just Loves, and has no conditions. I am positive, at this point, that a long time before I met the Lord, or even heard of Him, that my life was being arranged, I just couldn't ask for a better woman, our hearts are connected.\n\nThe next morning I did what I always do, that is wake up early, lay motionless, and listen to what God had planned for me, that is, if He wants to let me in on any of the details. And most of the time He doesn't. But this time, my wife, well aware of my morning habits, knew that I was awake and began talking about the harvest of the north regions, that is; the hunger and thirst that these people had for this new message of Grace. We spoke quietly, but sincerely until this fresh day cracked with a small hint of light. She then got up, fixed a large breakfast, bundled a large roll of flat bread with dried fish, and put it in my traveling pouch. The sun had been up for an hour or so before both said our good-byes, and I headed out toward the sun to pick up Andrew and a couple of the other folks that were to go with us. It certainly is a beautiful day, I thought while walking along the shore-line; and God had stored so many things for my life, that I was enthusiastic to see what was stored for this trip.\n\nAs approaching Andrews' house, I could see that he and maybe eight or ten more were waiting for my arrival. It was several of the folks that we'd journey with before, and I was glad to have them on this trip also. It was getting towards high sun before we took off north, and it seemed everyone in the group had a positive discernment about this trip and was also excited to see what God was going to do next. This venture was going to take a while, for we were on a three-hundred mile walking voyage, and at most, could cover twenty miles a day, and that's if nothing comes up, which it always does. Anyway, I told my wife that I'd probably be gone about six months, maybe longer. So when approaching, I ask the guys if they'd did the same to their families, all of them had.\n\nThe sun straight over head, not a cloud in the sky, temperature was just right for walking, and a lot of walking was ahead of us as the eleven of us set out towards Antioch in the region of Phrygia, but were planning to stop at Tarsus for a week or so. The trip would have been much easier if we'd taken a ship straight across, but Andrew and I both heard from within that we should walk; now here we are, walking, and enjoying every minute of it with this great group of brothers, all handpicked by God.\n\nThree weeks later we were coming up to the town of Tarsus of Syria, right next to the sea-port city of Seleucia, it was getting late and we'd decided to camp some mile or two out of town, and were walking toward a group of clustered tree that could be seen to our left. And I'd got to thinking about the journey thus far, and was reflecting back to the people that were met along the route, for it was often that we'd pass by other travelers, and occasionally stop and chat for a while. Many of them would know one or two of us, and would want their families to hear from the ones that walked with Jesus as he ministered. It was commonplace for someone to be healed, delivered, or even filled with the Holy Spirit, and all we were doing, was doing what we do best; testifying of the things we saw, or the things that were heard; all the wonders were done by the Lord, we were spectators, just like them. Legs were straightened, a blind lady received her sight, a man with boils was delivered, and once, God healed a families' only donkey; times were good and the anticipation of Jehovah's movements was what kept our legs strong to keep moving. It was just one of those days that a body just reflects about the days, and what were in them, that are gone by, and maybe glean a tid-bit or two out of 'em; just a day for thinking.\n\nWe'd set up camp, fire going, sitting back relaxing, and some were in deep discussions, but me, I sort of back away from the rest of 'em and continued in my thoughts. At this time I was thinking on process of the growth and the different levels of development that had been done thru the many stages of increase in my life. As a young man, I was a hot-head, quick the speak my opinion about anything, would act before my brain even knew what was happening, I'd stick the ole foot in the mouth more times than a person would like to admit to, at least out loud. I guess that this sometimes comes with immaturity; I just seem to have carried it too far. Even when Jesus had given us the Spirit right before His crucifixion, and my eyes were opening, you'd think that stuff would start falling into place. Maybe it did, but not to the point that the maturity level was noticed.\n\nAt that place in my life, after His death, all that could be seen was that He was dead, gone, the man that gave me hope and a vision, a purpose in life was gone, and I'd felt that life was right back to where it started, empty. But there was more. When at Pentecost and the force of that wind hitting me in the face, made all the difference, I was then filled with His Presence, and at that place could see that all the delusions of being again alone, were not true. For then, Jesus was more alive within me than he ever was when walking with Him daily. I prophesied words that had no need to be run thru my brain first, for they weren't mine, but His; all I had to do was get out of the way. But then again, for the most part, that was short lived. Thinking these great words made me someone special occupied the inner thoughts to the point that I started believing them, thinking I was special, but then again, I was reminded by the attacks and prison that I too was just a common man, a man without true means. I had the true means alright, and that wasn't my problem, but my flesh kept interfering, and at many times, my brain would dismiss that works that were actually done within me.\n\nAfter so many were added to the called-out-ones, and so many were healed, and many looked to me for the next step, why wouldn't I think that I was special? My eyes were still focus on the things outside, on the things that the brain gets involved in, and didn't realize, for any length of time, that it was the Christ within that was doing the work, and not me. Boy-o-boy, growing up is sometimes a hard process, but I persevered, not giving up, and slowly I began to learn, but not without many more trials and tribulations. At the time, I was thinking at each new level that I'd reached the top, but not so, this was just a stepping stone to the next level, but at the time; I didn't know that to be true.\n\nStill pondering, I was watching the stars as they slowly rotated across the sky. The other men had broken off into several groups and had their own dialogues going, but all that was blanked out as I continued in deep thought. A shooting star shot from the east and traveled from one horizon to the next, and some people said it would bring good luck, and even though I might not have grown much in these past few years, I'd grown enough not to base my life on old wives-tales. I was in one of those modes that while a person is thinking, he doesn't know he's thinking, it just sort of takes its' own course, it was the stars that I was looking at that my thoughts were supposed to be at, but evidently, not so. Even though I'd seen the star shoot across the black sky in its fiery blaze, only a fleeting moment was given to it, for my thoughts were elsewhere.\n\nJesus many times reminded us to embrace our enemies, to love those that despitefully use us, and to not be anxious when someone persecutes any of us, and that makes sense, and many times his presence ran through me, but there were still circumstances that I had to do it on my own, in other words; I was still stupid. And thinking at each new and higher level, gave me a carnal knowledge that maybe I was something special, until this night. And I remembered. Jesus once told us that God was able to raise up children to Abraham from these stones, and then on another occasion He said that if these folks didn't praise Him, that God was able to raise up stones that would; and all this time, I still thought that I was 'The Leader'. In truth; I am special, not for my abilities, but my availability, not for the way I could capture the attention of a crowd, but for the quietness of hearing His voice and speaking it, not for my strength for protecting Him, but the strength of professing Him, not for gift of healing folks, but for the knowledge of getting out of the way and letting the Healer heal. Yes, in a way, I am special, but only because God chose me, a fisherman, that reeked of the smell of fish, a common man at a place in his life that he, (I), was ready for change, and I'm thankful.\nNow I'm wondering how many trials still await me.\n\nOn this certain morning after eating a hand full of figs we all headed into to the town of Seleucia for a short stop and then go to Antioch, which was but a furlong farther, the two towns almost touched.\n\nOur whole group was still excited, had a good nights' rest, and was alert with anticipation of what God had in store for us in the days to come, as for me, last nights' thoughts were the energy to keep me going with hope. Hope of a life within and its' evolution to become the servant that God created me to be; it was a day of expectations. Hope has always represented the expectations of positive change, and change in that direction would be welcomed.\n\nAs we entered Seleucia in the forenoon people were busy, for they trekked in every direction, but seemed to have purpose. This was a fishing village, and the boats were lined up all across the shore, the waters were dotted with the many boats coming or going, and some so far out they were but specks. Being a fisherman in my youth, I continued to have a fascination with all the goings-on of the industry and the many different ways that folks used to catch their dinner. I'd always thought that people living near the sea had an advantage over most, for their next meal was only a short distance away, weather permitting. Two of the men traveling with us were brothers, and it didn't take them long before spotting a couple of men that they had been acquainted with. They talked a few moments and motioned for us to come in that direction.\n\nAfter introductions, they began telling us of the needs and wants of those in the next village, for many had been waiting on this new message; for a man called Paul had been there a year or so earlier and had pricked their hearts with the message of the Grace of God, and they wanted more. Times were good for this area of Syria, but all didn't accept this Gospel, for the Jews still had a strong influence here and wouldn't let any be swayed, if it meant that their livelihood was in jeopardy. But many openly professed Jesus Christ, and Him crucified, and had a thirst for the Word being taught.\n\nThey were friendly, with smiles as big as the moon, and offered to feed this whole bunch. We were hungry, for regular food was not available on this trip thus far, and the offer was quickly accepted.\n\nAs the food was served, and swiftly eaten, they continued talking of the desires of many for the Word of God, that came through non-religious means. It impressed them greatly that the Gospel was being preached without a cost in money, for now it made sense to them that this Grace is special, and has to be real, not at all like that of the religious leaders, with their rules and regulations, for Paul would accept no money for his labor of Love. Anyway, they were thrilled with us being there, and wanted to follow us as we went to Antioch, where no small assembly gathered every day to express their interpretations and views of Paul's message, but wanted more. The two towns were connected, at least when it came to the believers', and our new-found friends were to collect the other supporters and walk with us the short distance to Antioch, and were anxious to do so.\n\nAs we entered the town, the people knew immediately who we were, for so many from Seleucia wouldn't announced our arrival and be massed together, if not for a disciple being in their mist, anyway, our small group was not so small. A man whose name was Samuel, calling himself a disciple, first met us as we approached the trade center of town. The sun was well up, the wind blowing off the sea through this narrow valley, and it was still cool as we began our exchange of small talk and introductions.\n\n\"We folks here in Antioch are not religious in any fashion, and the Jews have spent much time trying to proselytize us into their belief, but we wanted no part of their labor, nor bondage to so many of their strenuous rules and regulations. For when the Apostle Paul spent time here and told us of the grace of God through Jesus; we listened. Our town and the people in it, are just common folks, we put ourselves off on no one, and haven't, as of yet, allowed outsiders to invade our privacy, but hearing him and his genuine behavior, decided to accept this new lifestyle, but only a few days before Paul had to leave. But now need the Word of God to be expounded in greater detail. Many have been in wait for an Apostle to venture this way and teach us more of this Grace, to show us in truth, the Truth. So all are excited that you folks are here, and we greet you with enthusiasm.\" Samuel said in a matter-of-fact tone, but with a giant smile on his face the whole time.\n\nAs us disciples and Apostles looked at each other, then smiled, knowing that God had sent us here with reason; and this was it, at least part of the reason. God always knows what He's doing, it just that most of the time, we don't. Our enthusiasm grew. With people like this, that is, folks that God has already prepared, all of us agreed that the trip is, and is going to be, well worth our tired legs.\n\n\"Thank you sir, this time together is going to be all our pleasure,\" I said as the others were in complete agreement.\n\nIt was then that we were taken to a small house, in the middle of the part of town, where the food venders gathered daily to sell their surplus. The smells, especially the bread, was an odor that could make a man that had just eaten, hungry. We were placed in the midst of many folks that wanted to hear more of Jesus Christ, and about His resurrection, but especially more about the Gift of Grace.\n\nPaul had told them that Grace came with no charge, not of money, nor that of labor, it was truly a free gift, and the Gift was Jesus, the Gift was true forgiveness.\n\nThen, as we had gathered talking with so many, and at any given time someone was always at the door, or in the room with questions, the Spirit of God and His Christ was upon us, and those gathered wanting to understand this new way of life that is so much different than the religious leaders have tried burdening them with. This Gospel that Jesus came to express is greater, much deeper, it is not about a reformed life, but a transformed life, and much different than the yokes of the Sadducees, scribes, and the priest of the synagogues, for it contained no such weights of performance, only Love and Grace. The Gospel taught that the act of 'being' was all it took to fall under the Love of God. And I knew this, at this place in my life, but this Truth still hadn't reached its' completeness in the morrow of my soul, as of yet. I was learning, and this I was sure of, and if not obvious to others, it was to me; for I could look at myself and know that there was much more to learn than what's been yet comprehended. Anyway, this meeting of the hearts is the place that God has sent us too, and we knew it, not just for them, but us also.\n\nAs men and women continued coming to this little house, and we'd minister too many, the day began waxing into a dull gray as the sun had barely set, but the folks kept coming. It was somewhat of a strange time, for when asked a question that had not been proposed to us before, and really didn't know the answer, the whole group would become silent, and after a few moments, God would give an answer, therefore, we'd all learn. And it was this learning process that kept our energy highly motivated, a very crucial evolution for both, them and us, we were all still students, meaning disciples, learning as we go.\n\nIt was shortly after sundown that Samuel returned and told us of another large room where most of the people had gathered, and wanted each to follow him there, and we did. It was massed with a great number of individuals ranging from the very old to the very young; and all still seemed to have a smile on their face. As we entered, an older man approached me with a comment and a question. \"I can hear that this message from Paul was one of freedom, and that we are acceptable where we are, in the sight of God, but is this really true, is there not something that we must do to earn favor?\"\n\nI had leaned back against the stone wall, thinking, if not showing, that this question was perplexing. For it made sense that God would want to expect something from the believers that sought Him, so I settled back in my usual position to wait on an answer, but it didn't come. So, looking the man in the face, laying my arm on his shoulder, I told him that I would shortly get back to him on this. It was not ten minutes later that a woman stepped up and asked somewhat of the same question, and my response was the same.\n\nMoments later, Andrew, John and two of the other guys went with me outside the doorway to talk this over, for none of us really knew the true answer. Andrew said that in one way it didn't make sense that we would have to do something, but on the other hand, it makes sense that there would be something on mans' part to show himself available. The other two were just listening. \"I don't know what to say\", I spoke point blank, and wanting a sincere answer, and told them both that we'd get back to 'em; how do I respond?\" I said as my eyes were going from one to the other, but speaking to Andrew. All they did was shrug their shoulders. I was the supposed leader, and still felt the need to look the part. We went back in with nothing established.\n\nThe meeting, or should I rather say gathering, had somewhat of a festive atmosphere, as the laughter and arm gestures indicated a people of great zeal and freedom in their belief of this new way of Life. I watched as many would greet, hug and chat as they walked around the room, with a genuine glow of personality. These folks believed, and as new believers, had an unusual grasp of the things of God, they were hungry for the preached Word.\n\nThinking in long intervals, and meditating on what's really needed here, I began to work my way back into the midst of the crowd, to make, what I thought at this time to be appropriate, an announcement.\n\nSamuel saw what was going on with me, he knew that I wanted to speak, and with the rapping of his walking stick on the side of the wall, got the attention of the loud group. And I began to speak. \"Men, brothers, friends and all those that can hear my voice; I beseech you my beloved that you would give ear to my words, that you may take heed to this reasoning. There has been a concern over a few matters, and maybe this night we can address them to find resolution. A good while back God had showed me in a dream that there was no difference between the Jew or the Gentile, and that my thoughts, nor by my mouth should I call what he created unclean, and that the Gentiles should also hear the word of the Gospel and believe, and He has made no distinction between them and us, and will purify their hearts also. Now therefore, why do you test God by putting a yoke on the neck of us, or each other, that neither our forefathers nor we are able to bear? But we also believe that through the Grace of our Lord Jesus Christ that the Gentiles shall be saved by faith, the same as we. For God had declared aforetime to take out of them a people to be called by His name. We will not burden you with the yoke of circumcision, that are turning to God from among the gentiles, for the cutting away of the foreskin avails to nothing, but the circumcision of the heart is essential to the finding of His Truth. Therefore trouble not those of the Gentiles who are turning to God, but instead love all in the Grace of God, and His freedom. But I do say unto you to abstain from things strangled, from blood, and from that that is polluted by idols.\"\n\nThese words I spoke, but they were not given to me by the Holy Spirit, but I believed with His permission, or so I thought. The people were silent, for none had anything to say, nor were there any questions, but the atmosphere stayed positive, as all continued to mingle.\n\nLater in the night a man approached and said that he'd heard all that I said, and would still like to be circumcised. \"Brother, there is no law in Grace that says that any can forbid circumcision, and in this case, it is no burden, do as your conscious allows.\"\n\nIt was a great night of festivities and many more words were spoken to those that desired a greater walk with the Lord. But the next morning, we were to begin our next trek to Tarsus, a six or seven day journey, and then again, this meeting of the hearts was, in its' self, worth the trip, for many were healed in their bodies and in their heart.\n\nThe Long Road\n\nThis was the year that Festus became the Procurator of Judea, taking the place of Felix, and how this is going to go with the folks in Jerusalem, only time will tell, but what I've heard about him thus far, the news ain't good. If his past reputation is any indicator, then the future of our holy lands are in jeopardy.\n\nWe've been now walking north from Antioch three days and not even close to the inlet horn of the Gulf of Issus, and the journey, so far, has gone smooth, but slow. We have had very little contact with other travelers, for this area of land is seldom traveled. Most people, when going between Tarsus and Antioch, sail by ship, it's much shorter, and needless to say, much easier, but unfortunately not an option for our larger group.\n\nIt was near high noon, sun blistering hot and very little shade, and with me getting up in years, thought it would be nice to settle under these three of four cedar trees for a rest and maybe take something to eat. Of course John, being much younger, took it to make a little fun at me about, seeing my hair and beard was grayer than it was black, and thinking because of my age; that this journey was rough on me; but it wasn't, and all his cutting-up was done in humor. I could see for miles ahead, and this was the only shade seen, and I might be a little older, but in this case wiser; and he'll probably thank me later when he too will learn to look at something besides his feet making prints in the sand. It was hot, but we were all use to that, but nestled between the trees offered some relief, and with my stomach growling, some relief there too. We ate, we talked, and some of the newer men would take opportunities like this and get into a deeper conversation with Andrew and myself to learn a little more history of our walk with Jesus. Wanting to know more about His character and personality, and how He would see certain situations, such as the last time he walked into Jerusalem. How did He feel? Was He scared? Or was His destination understood from the beginning?\n\nI told them that: \"Jesus had a relationship with the Father just like we had with our own parents. Yes, we can hear God speaking to us from within, but He could hear and see Him fluently; all that the Father did, and all that the Father said, He was one with Him. And so can we be. Our lives are ordained for certain trials and many tribulations, and this walk, this trip to Tarsus, we must have, before each is readied for that intimate relationship, an understanding that each day, all of us are being purged of the old man within, and until we realize this, and our focus has narrowed to Him, we still travel in this life seeing through a darkened glass. I think he was slightly scared, but understood the necessity of going into Jerusalem, it was what the Father wanted, and as far as Jesus was concerned, that's the only thing that mattered. It gave him great pleasure to please God, and His only focus was on that. And that too is what this journey is about, preparing us to take our eyes off of ourselves, and fix them upon the Father.\"\n\nThe younger men seemed amazed at these few words, but especially John, for he said that he knew the importance of the trip, but didn't see that it was more for him, than it was for those hearing the Word of this Grace. And it now took a completely different meaning knowing that what is to come is designed in detail, just for him, and of course all of us individually. That this venture was ordained to set the captured creature within free, to bring about a nurturing into the spirit of each apostles, to purge us from accepting this life on earth as final.\n\nI smiled; it was evident that at least John understood, and you know, by saying it, I think that I too understood it a little more precisely.\n\nJohn looked at the other men, as if to say; do you get what was said? And later, during our rest, and also as we began walking again, I could hear John talking to the others of the revelation that he'd just heard. At one point I could hear him telling two of the men: \"That Gods' hand is not shortened, that He can work every corner, every nook, every disposition, and cause everyone involved to learn, whether you are the one coming from or going to, both sides are growing.\" He was elated, and as time passed, he could expound to me in even greater details, and teach me of what it all meant. To be on the giving end, places you on the receiving end.\n\nAfter our band of men rounded the Gulf of Issus, a large inlet that stretched some fifty or sixty miles into the mountainous region of Cappadocia, we again stopped for the night. This time thought it was better to make camp several hours before sunset, and had chosen an out crop of boulders on one side, and a cliff on the other; we were in the pass of the mountain. This was probably the only traveled pass in which donkey and man could make their way through for a hundred miles or so in any direction, so we set camp. Wood was a little easier to come by, the air much cooler than the desert floor, and this was not the first time that this spot had been chosen for a camp. The remnants of many overnight fires were scattered over a small area, the ground trampled flat and hard, and the upward ledge provided shelter from the nightly dew, it was perfect for us. Besides all that, two of the men had leg cramps from climbing up the steep terrain, and one other had blisters on both feet; that was the reasoning we used in stopping early to begin with.\n\nLater that same evening, a man, his wife and two daughters, coming from the opposite direction, passing by just before the mountain had swallowed up the sun, paused for a few moments to chat. And after a short conversation we convinced them to camp just slightly down the hill from us; and they did. I suppose that they were going to camp in the same place we were, and being friendly, acted as if they were to continue, but I saw through it, and we made one big camp with little distance between us.\n\nThey were coming from Tarsus, going into Syria, and only three days had passed since beginning their trip. Their three donkeys were burdened with sacks of provisions, and most, of all they owned, were carried with them, and when they'd asked us to sup with them, the answer was swift and to the point; \"of course we will.\" It had been a while since any of us had a real meal, this often had seemed to be the case, and this man seemed very genuine in his request. Other than figs, dates, stale bread, a few dried fish, and some varmint of who knows what, snared by one of our men, none of us had had a real meal in weeks, so without being too forward, took him up on his offer.\n\nThe donkeys' burden was quit-a-bit improved after the meal was consumed, and to our pleasure, well received. This was a nice family of God fearing people; were raised in the Jewish faith, but were not taken in with all the rituals of their sect. They had heard the Apostle Paul speak on several occasions, and drawn to the Gospel of Grace, excited in this new Life, and were going to find his nomadic in-laws and tell them of the things that God was showing His people. He'd felt the inward power of God, and believed this Good-News to be real, and wanting to share it with the ones they loved first, but also to any other that would listen, a man of hope.\n\nAnd when he'd found out from an extensive conversation, as they talked through much of the early night, that several of the apostles were in our group, the man wanted to ask many questions and gain an insight into the person of Jesus. He was warned by the scribes and elders of the Pharisees not to listen to, much less pursue, this so-called heretic belief; this life preached by Jesus and the apostles, that taught that we can have a relationship with the Father without going through some institution. That, from their point-of-view, a man has to come under the authority of an overseer, and be guided by their set of rules and regulations, but years back saw thru that foolishness and stepped back some distance from the synagogues. And for that reason, him wanting to follow the message of Love and Grace, they began to persecute him, and as of late were putting much pressure on him through his family; so they left. And now with the disciples and apostles in the same camp, he wanted to take this opportunity to learn again, first-hand, from those that walked with Him and received the baptism of the Holy Spirit. For he had heard Paul preach and expound several times and knew this life was for him and his.\n\nAnd again, like in Antioch several weeks back, I began to explain the freedom that Jesus came to deliver to earth; that man, was not to be weighted down with the burdens of those seeking to serve themselves, with their lengthy prayers and self-righteous public attitudes. That circumcision was not necessary, but we were to refrain from things strangled, sacrificed to idols, and have no consumption of blood, for the Love of God covers every multitude of sin. And He operates within the perimeters of true Love, and Grace without dimension, for He loved the people of the world so much that he gave His only Begotten, a Sacrifice, that all would know that He alone was the Father of all.\n\nAuthors note: Peter, only in this time and place of his life, taught the three above deeds, but later changed his views on them.\n\nWe talked, exchanging our views, one to another, 'til midnight, with growth; the one talking would grow the same as the one listening, it was a great opportunity for both, him and us. But then, after settling into my bed-roll, I got to thinking that some of my words might also put a weight on people, a yoke that's not supposed to be there, and thinking about this a few minutes, I fell asleep.\n\nThe next morning, after my usual meditations, I arose to find the man making ready to continue his journey, but waiting on me. We exchanged messages with each other that were to be carried and forwarded to let the folks and family know that all was well, and God continued to reign. After eating a small meal, both groups set out in opposite direction, but with the same course.\n\nSome less than a week later, our group of eleven men walked into Tarsus, it was afternoon, the first day of the week, people stirring with their everyday business, and no one noticed our arrival. Since a group of the 'called out ones' have been meeting together for decades now, it wasn't hard to find one of the elders, and after asking a couple of people about who they were; the second one asked, pointed us in the right direction. Meeting Silas was a thrill for both him and us. He'd been side-by-side with the Apostle Paul, and knew in great detail many things about Andrew, John and I, and was glad that we had arrived.\n\nSilas was a man of integrity, he was loyal to God and His works, and had a deep grasp on the things of God, humble in every way, but bold in speech. Although he would speak to the Jews concerning the things of Jesus Christ, his main interest was toward the Gentiles. Silas was still under the stewardship of Paul, but very capable of hearing and following as the Spirit gave him guidance. But still yet, a courier was sent every week or so, to and from Antioch of Phrygia, where Paul had been teaching and building the understanding of those that believed in that region. But for Tarsus; and Silas being there, was a greater challenge, but one that Silas could overcome easier than Paul, for that was where Paul was from. All of Tarsus knew Paul, or at least knew of him, and more than a few were reluctant of his testimony because they had personally known him in the past, that is, the many times that he persecuted those that believed on Christ and Him crucified, so Silas at this point was much more effective with these people.\n\nSo when entering the tent of Silas', we were welcomed with a bowl of fruit and nuts, and asked if we'd like to clean-up in the mountain stream that ran only a few feet from where they made their temporary home. The water coming off the nearby hills was cold, but refreshing. And reentering the tent, we were again made welcome. After a few exchanges of chit-chat, Silas wanted to know all that the Spirit was doing thru our lives, and we wanted to know about his, it was as if we'd always known each other.\n\nMany wonders and works were being spread throughout all the regions between the Black Sea and the Great Sea, all of Asia, even to Rome and farther still, this Gospel message could not be contained. Our time together was wonderful, for us, and I believe for him also. Being an instrument of God's hand, we all appreciated the privilege of the works being done thru them.\n\nSilas told us of the teaching, to both the Jews and also the Gentiles, and the problems that the folks had with each other, for normally the Jews would not speak to the gentiles, and vise-versa, but in this case at Tarsus, great strides had been made.\n\nIt was then that I told of the vision the Spirit had given to me some twenty years ago: \"That a sheet had been lowered down from Heaven with all manner of unclean animals, and was told to kill and eat, but I said, not so Lord, for nothing common or unclean has at any time entered my mouth. But the voice came again and said; what God has cleansed you must not call common. This happened three times, and then it was drawn back into Heaven.\" I paused for a few moments and then continued. \"It took time, maybe months, for the understanding of this dream to be under-stood, but I now know that God was sending me to the gentiles, or at least the acceptance of them, and probably for this reason, I am here.\"\n\nThere was a long silence before anyone spoke. I could tell by their face and body-language that each person in that room was contemplating on the words of the vision. Then in a soft tone of voice, Silas said that; \"God had shown me years ago that the message of the Grace of God through His Christ was to be preached to the Gentiles, and this word coming from you was the news that I'd long hoped for. That this is of a truth, God had sent you, Peter, to Tarsus to help Paul and I to get this message out, and I am thankful.\"\n\nEach man in that room looked at one another, for each knew that God was the provider of the trip, and each had a part in it, but now understood the exact value of all those weeks of walking. It was an affirmation that each expected, but now fully understood.\n\nThe next morning I made a straight course to the place in town where the Gentiles assembled, not an organized established place, but a junction where many would linger and talk and get their daily news from, a place where two streets came together. It was a beautiful day, the sun bright in a cloudless sky, and many of the women and men had assembled the day before, the Lords' day, and seemed to have much to talk about.\n\nGreat strides had been taken, and many of the believers were growing daily in their walk with Christ, and Monday mornings seem to be the day that many would exchange the works and wonders of the previous week, and a little more festive than the other days. All this was according to the implication of Silas' words, so that was why we were there.\n\nBy this time, all the folks of Tarsus knew who we were; which included the many Jews. It was a bustle of activity, unheard chatter was going on everywhere, and some animated; but when approaching, all went silent. Two men, one Simeon, called Niger, and another named Manaen, who had been brought up with Herod the tetrarch, came up and introduced themselves. Manaen explained that he too was with Saul, now sir-named Paul, when they worked for Herod, but both were transformed by that meeting with Christ on the road to Damascus, and Niger had joined with them shortly thereafter. It didn't take long to see that both men had a deep understanding and zeal for the things of the Lord. It was a pleasure to be with such men with the appreciation and love that they had for the folks, and were often called outsiders, but neither, were in this for the glory. They understood this part of the country, and their offer of help in this region was extremely valuable. We seem to hit it off as if we'd known each other for years. And I think that John and Andrew took a personal liking to the both of them.\n\nThey took us to places, that by ourselves we would never have been able to go, introduced to many that had an unmistakable handle in just what Grace is.\n\nGrace is the gift from God, that man with his thinking and works cannot earn, for no matter how embedded into sin one gets, Grace is always there. It is so simple, and man spends much time trying to complicate it, that to have Grace is one thing, but to acknowledge it is something quite different. As many as are loved by God is given Grace, whether we love him or not, to those that believe this unmerited gift, can walk in the freedom and the Love that God has sent to each through His son Jesus; this is for all, not just some. For God so Loved the world, that He gave, and He gave all He has. These words were exchanged as we all looked out about over the traffic going in every direction.\n\nMany times several of us were taken to the many homes of the folks living in Tarsus, and each one of them would have a different set of needs, some would just need an understanding of the things of God, and others a healing or deliverance. Paul had done a wonderful work here in the time that he had spent with these people, for many had a comprehension that went sometimes beyond those that traveled with us, including me. On more than several occasions, an elder or scribe would stand in the door as we would minister to a family, and with their gestures and grunts, it was obvious of their disapproval. Their religious blindness would keep them from the Light of this new freedom, but not all, for many of the Jews have come to believe; and to those that are open about it: have been persecuted. This is no easy task, this walk with Christ, not the way the world views it; but it is a privilege to those that are in Christ Jesus and live no longer for themselves, but in Him. It is the blinders that religion has place on man, with their view points, that has kept many in the dark, therefore not wanting to seek a deeper understanding of the Freedom Christ brought.\n\nWe continued in Tarsus for many weeks, and the number of believers, and the depth of their belief, grew to the place that many of them were gathering and contemplating building their own place of worship. I've seen this happen before and it never works, for the people begin to think that the building is the place to find God, and the expanse of His work is narrowed to the four walls in which the building is made; so they begin to believe that Christ is limited, and He is not. Trying to place God in a box, a building, and then preaching that their so-called sanctuary is the place to be, to be taught, then places the folks in bondage as long as they fall to that way of thinking, but none of it is true. Jesus told us to 'go you into the entire world'; but with this frame of thinking, they seem to be saying 'come', all that's in the world, and we will give you light,' but then is not this, the blind leading the blind? Anytime we go against the Word that God gave us, are we then walking without His guidance? Have we not stepped out on our own? I have come against this way of thinking several times before, and many see that none, not one, is to organize the Life that God has given us. But there are always a determined few that want it their way, and convince others into following them. This ought not to be so. I have stood with objection to this way of thinking, and will until I die, and come with opposition to any trying to organize or institutionalize the things of God and His way of Life. Where the few have succeeded, at least in appearances, in this form of religion, that is, building an empire unto themselves; it has always failed and the people began to perish. The power of the Word of God failed, not that it truly can fail, but their approach to Him has caused a delusion to so many, that it emerges as failure.\n\nWe give up nothing on our journey for Christ, but are instead, fed daily on His manna. What cost is accounted to us, is but nothing compared to that which is gained, not only for us, but also the effectiveness to others. God has His way, and man ought not to be tempted in any other, but many are. Anyway, when the group again came together, I went also to stand in opposition to the forming of godliness, and knowing that the power will not be within it, for sooner or later they will deny the Power thereof.\n\n\"Men, brothers in Christ, fellows believers, this task that you are called upon to build, is not the Way, Truth, nor the Life that Jesus has set up to build within His called-out-ones, nor the Rock upon which His Church is built. Of a truth, God is surely organized, but not in the way man thinks, we see through a glass that is darkened, and He nurtures those that are led as the Holy Spirit cultivates His people thru the trials and temptations of life. This attempt to organize God into mans' way of thinking, is to a point, a mandate to turn our backs against Him. Each of us have seen and felt the burdens that the scribes and Sadducees have placed upon those that are within their reach, with the many rites, regulations, and their man-made laws, and by doing so, have positioned a yoke on those, that man in his own strength cannot live up too. Jesus came to set us free, and free indeed we are. He came to give life, and give it abundantly, not by the strength of man, but by His strength, that is; His Love and Grace. My beloved, this regulated institution that you are pursuing ought to be set aside, and we should, rather, seek instead a relationship with Him thru his Grace and Love. Where two or three are gathered in the name of Jesus, there He will be also. Watch you therefore, and let not your vanity rule your soul with this yoke that is being contemplated. Walk you in the freedom of our Lord, not these vain repetitious works of the man-made rituals.\"\n\nAs I turned from side to side, looking throughout the crowd, I could see Andrew, John, Silas, Niger, and Manaen standing together in the corner close to the doorway, and by the look on their face, I could tell that they too were in agreement. \"It is inside every man that his vanity wants to organize everything of God the same way that I too wanted when the transfiguration took place in front of me. Having learned from my past, and learning it acutely, by having to remove myself from that mountain, I now understand that God is God, and cannot be put into a box, nor limited in any way where Truth abides. But, also understanding, that all have to grow, mature in the Lord, and come to this deep intimate relationship that is a continuing journey, for I too have just begun, and my journey is far from completion; much more remains before me than has already been traveled.\"\n\nIt was several hours later before the five of us left the meeting, and as we walked toward the place that we were staying, we discussed again the issues of tonight's subject. Each one of us had something that needed to be spoken about, but Silas took the most time elaborating on his feelings of organizing Gods' Church.\n\nAs Silas reached out and touched my arm, indicating that he wanted undivided attention, our whole group stopped to listen to what he had to say. \"This matter was brought to the Apostle Paul on many occasions, and he too tried reasoning with them, and for the most part, the majority of the folks in Tarsus agreed with him. For he too knew of the devastation that many of the Jews have placed upon folks with their many so-called laws of empowerment; by giving a few the higher seat, and elevated position, shows all an hierarchy that God, nor His son Jesus ordained, I know that Niger and Manaen both agree, for we have spoken about this matter many times, and have set down in many instances to reason with as many as would listen, and evidently to no avail. Once the church, or could better say, the called-out-ones are yoked by their misunderstandings, have organized, it is then that God is pushed out, being replaced by man. I've always thought that God called His people to come out from among them, but man with all his vanities, continues to ensue power, and like Paul said; 'this ought not to be so.'\"\n\nThere were times that I thought that what I was saying aligned with the will of God, and sometimes, I just wasn't quite sure, but with this issue I was certain, but it was also still appreciated to learn that it was not just me that heard from God on this matter, and I was blessed to know that this same Word was spoken to many. God's people were to go throughout the world preaching; and never was it said to ask them to come to you, and in this; we were all six in complete alignment. The office of supreme leader of an assembly had been offered to me several times; and not now, nor in the future will I accept such nobility, as to lower my sights on anything short of God. It was God's work thru Paul that started this New Life in Tarsus, and it was our pleasure to help him, Silas and the others, to continue this word of revelation as we were given knowledge by Him that created the message to come out of her, my people.\n\nThe next morning, our small group did what we always do, and that was going from house to house expounding on the Word of God as He gave us privilege to hear. It made no difference whether they were Jew or Gentile, anyone with a willingness to hear, heard. But the group of Jews that were sent to follow us for information to give to their superiors, continued. I now know that this was a small matter, what people thought about me; but then, a decade ago, it was more than a small matter to me, for I was annoyed and began to doubt, even that which God had given me, at least in this issue of what folks were thinking about me, for I still had an occasional problem with my vanity. There were times, when in the house of a gentile, one of the Jews would approach, and I would up and leave. I think that I did this to keep a higher status with them, but whatever it was, I was wrong doing so, but it would still take over a year to learn just exactly how wrong I was. At one point Silas pointed it out to me of this double standard that I seem to portray, and again that same night, my brother and John spoke to me about this matter at length. For some reason it just wasn't registering, or my thoughts were someplace else, for I just didn't truly didn't recognize what I was doing, or so I told myself.\n\nThis walk, or journey, that I'd dedicated my life too, was at times, anything but simple. I could speak about the freedom in Christ, and of a truth believed it, but at this time in my growth, there was a war going on inside of me. That is, at certain times, or in a few situations, my flesh would instinctively get in the way, I speak this to my shame, but never-the-less it is true. I wasn't the hot-head that I used to be, surely had made great progress on not being so quick to blurt out my thoughts, but what others thought of me; was for some reason, still far too much important. And I knew this, and these three men pointing it out, my own brother included, still didn't have the capacity to show me the era, at least deep enough to be truly recognized. So I continued to stumble from time-to-time.\n\nThe Edge of Correction\n\nAfter several more weeks in Tarsus, our same group, minus four of the other younger men, set off to travel toward Lystra by way of Antioch in Pisidia. It was a cold morning, a cloudless sky and the wind blowing from the north at a speed that would just about knock us off our feet as we ascended the rather large mountains that lay before us. We were walking in a northwest direction, the same direction the wind was coming from, and at times, it would gust over the peak and down the slope of the small valley we were traversing uphill, and cause our legs to wobble with its force. The temperature probably wasn't below freezing, but with the hard wind, it definitely felt as if it was.\n\nWe had spent more than several weeks in Tarsus, and I think the Lord had used us on more than a few occasions, and I know that Silas and his two companions welcomed the help in extending the word of God. A week or so ago Silas had sent two of the disciples, men that labored by his side, in the same direction that we now travel. For they were carrying messages from Silas to Paul, that was somewhere in Macedonia, or maybe still on this side on of where the Black Sea and the Great Sea met, anyway, it wasn't going to be hard to find him, for wherever Paul went or came from, it was noised through-out the whole region.\n\nWe may have stumbled from time to time, but I am convinced that the wonders and works of God were received by many while we labored in Tarsus. Therefore making each of us at least slightly more mature, but maybe hidden within our spirit for later recognition. Many times, I would realize that God had placed into me a new growth, and knowing it was there, hadn't received it fully as yet, but still knew something had taken place within.\n\nThe first two days of the journey were going to be the hardest, for we were told of the steep terrain, howling wind, and the extreme dryness of the land, but we all believed that God was sending us there, and we had no other pleasure than that of following His direction. Derby was to be our first stop, for it was the only town between here and Lystra, a long five day venture, and then there were at least four more days after that before we entered Lystra.\n\nThe first day we walked up-hill the whole day, and saying up-hill is a mild way of saying it. The trail was steep, and I would suppose brutal is a better way of explaining it. At times the path was so sheer that our feet were trying to slip out from beneath us, twice I'd fallen, but only slid a short ways before regaining my footing. The second day wasn't much better, but we were descending the mountain, as the summit was cleared around noon, which was better in one way, but much harder on our upper legs.\n\nThat same evening, an hour or so before sun-set, on relatively flat ground, we made camp, and by that time it was welcomed by everyone in our small group. We had earlier passed two parties of folks traveling toward Tarsus, and both had told us about this spot to make camp, and to make sure that we took advantage of it. And finding the place they had described came none too soon, we were tired, and the clearing was a cheered relief. The seven of us all pitched in, gathering dead brush for a fire, setting up our small canvas, and clearing the rocks where we were to sleep. This night again, all had decided to eat the provisions we'd brought, no one wanted to work even a breath more than he had too. It was much warmer in this lower elevation, and that helped tremendously.\n\nJust before complete nightfall, the sky only a dingy gray, but cloudless, a group of five women and one old man, going the opposite direction as us, arrived looking for the same camping area that we now settled in. They were going to Tarsus.\n\nThe clearing was plenty big enough for both groups and we welcomed them, as they also were glad to have a chance to rest. We were told that this was the only real place to set up a camp between here and Derby. I began to think that if they were this tired now, what were they going to feel like after the next two days? It gets much worst for them, an old man and five women, and one looked as if she were with child, for this was their first time going to Tarsus, and had maybe underestimated the roughness of the mountains. I felt sorry for them. Andrew had told them that they could make use of our fire; the old man thanked us, but said the women might feel uncomfortable and he was stronger than he looked, and would build their own. The rest of the night went calmly with very little talking between us, except for John, he motioned for me to meet him at the outer edge of where the fire would spill its' light. He wanted to talk.\n\nI could tell that something was on his mind, for in the last two days he didn't say more than a few sentences and none of them were grouped together. His countenance was not, by any means down, but being raised up around him most of my life, I could tell that something of a seriousness nature was in his thoughts.\n\n\"Peter, God's been dealing with me to strike out on my own, and I've toiled with it for the past couple of days, and now know that that's what I'm supposed to do.\" I sat quietly as he spoke; not wanting to add nor take away from what I knew was lying heavy on his heart. So as John continued, I watched the shadows swirl around in the cup of wine that I held in my hand, and at times could see the refection of the stars in it, if I was perfectly still; I just listened. \"I'm thinking when we get to Lystra, that I'll cut southeast and go toward Lycia, but for some reason, I was thinking that you wouldn't want me too. I too have been in this journey from the beginning, just as you have, I know the voice of the Spirit, but have wrestled with these thoughts ever since we left Tarsus, and believe for whatever reason, this is my calling to be examined in the coastal region of Lycia.\"\n\nI continued to sit quietly for a few moments to see if there was yet something else that he wanted to say. Still watching the stars in my cup, and then looking up to find them, but all attention was on him, as I pondered knowing that a great friend would be leaving.\n\n\"John, I support you in every way, and by the tone of your speech, and the look on your face, I too know that this is a serious matter. Although I will miss you greatly, this venture is something you have to do. The Kingdom of God, and Its forwarding, is not tied to this small group, nor any other of the small groups proclaiming Christ and Him resurrected, the Spirit began this journey, and the Spirit will see it thru to the end. It might be that it will take two weeks to get to Lystra, but every minute of that time with you will be appreciated.\" I knew that this was what he was called to do, and I knew that God would use him in a mighty way.\n\nIt was that night, in the foothills of those cold rugged mountains that I began again to miss my wife. She was with me, in every step I took, our hearts were together. I knew it, and she knew it too. I understand how God engineers our lives, and I believe that all that He's called me into, would carry on even if I didn't have her, but having her made my life all the more rich. I was just missing her a little more than usual that night and spent the rest of the night with her in thought.\n\nIt was a restful nights' sleep for all of us, the small group camping beside us, made not a sound all the night, John was back to his old self, and I had one of the most wonderful dreams of being back in Galilee fishing with my wife. The other five men were chipper and ready to go. We made short work of our cleanup, said our good-byes to the women and old man, and then headed west to find out why God had sent us here.\n\nIt was still early as we headed away from the rising sun toward Derby, our next stop. It was in Derby that we understood that help was needed, for they had its share of impoverished folks, those coming across the mountains and couldn't make it any farther and those coming from the west and now too weak to go on, it was a sort of last-resort town. Still two days away, but our energy was high, and this second leg of the journey would be accomplished. We were now walking thru a valley floor, and it was so much easier, the sun was warm and we were out of the dry cold air of the high terrain.\n\nAlthough this journey in my life was exactly what I was supposed to be doing, it was still a long road, but one that was determined to be traveled. Andrew and I were walking side-by-side and were chatting about our stay in Tarsus. In a very gentle way, Andrew mentioned and asked why I was leaving the homes of the Gentiles when one of the scribes would come by, and what my thoughts were about it. I told him that there wasn't much thought about the matter, for at that time I'd not seen the whole picture of what was going on. Since we were brothers, and loved each other very much, I think now that that was why he allowed the subject to be dropped so quickly, we never did talk about those days after that. But we did spend many hours discussing why people wanted, in several cities, to organize a way of Life into structure made by the hands of man.\n\nAndrew had known John the Baptist and his preparing the way, more than the rest of us, for he'd spent much time with him, and knew John's thoughts on the topic. \"The Baptist didn't align himself, nor affiliate himself with any group or organization, but instead lived away from the main-stream, gathering nuggets from God with no interference from the synagogue, or those that were influenced by them. He himself was prepared in the wilderness, like that of the Israelites when they were in the desert; his flesh man had to die first, and then was he able to hear the voice of God.\"\n\nAndrew asked; \"would the Baptist or Jesus settle or allow His Church, His called-out-ones, to fasten themselves to a immoveable structure of dead stone, and then call it church? Of course they wouldn't. Would He'd wanted His people to stand outside some beautiful monument of man, ringing his mission bell as the Pharisees and Sadducees do, gathering support for their own agendas? That wouldn't have happened. So I can see how right you were in taking a stand against this matter, but I can also see that this is not going to go away easily.\"\n\nI just looked at him with a smile, for we both knew we were on the same page.\n\nOur plans were to walk more than half the distance and stop for the night, leaving only a half days, or so, journey for tomorrow, before entering Derby, so on this day, we ate while still walking, and even at that, we'd have to travel up to full darkness.\n\nThe next day the seven of us walked into Derby shortly after high noon, to a town that had a look of something more than just being impoverished. At least when we'd first gotten there, it wasn't hard to tell the countenance of the folks, for it seemed a deep depression had overwhelmed each in it. Most people either didn't see us, or hung their head as we walked by, and nowhere was a smile to be found, but we did what we always do, and that was go to the center of town. There, we were either met, or would make arrangements to secure a place to stay, for I believed that the Spirit had placed us here for a particular reason, and what it was , no one at this point knew.\n\nSeveral times one of us in our group would reach out to a passerby, but to no effect. We were ignored, probably not because of them being standoffish as much as it was an unhealthy spirit seemed to have taken over. But after a few hours of meandering around the same spot of town, two elderly men approached us, and already knew who some of us were. Polite gentlemen in every way, smiling from ear-to-ear; and with a loud voice spoke his welcomes to their little town. He had heard we were coming, but expected us tomorrow. As he made his introductions, I could see that one of the men must have been the town leader; full of energy, boisterous in his high-pitched voice, but friendly in every way, his name was Manual. And it didn't take long to figure out that he was severely concerned about the folks in his town, and that was part of the reason, at least the way I added it up, that his speech was so loud. He'd taken the roll as a leader to attempting to lively up the people with kind words and pleasant conversation, but seem genuine in every way. I liked that man, and he certainly made us feel appreciated.\n\nManual would have it no other way than the seven of us to stay at his house. A large structure made eons of years ago, but now that his rather large family had, for the most part, moved to other cities and villages, said he had more than enough room, and besides that, he was wanting to talk with us extensively. He offered water to wash our feet, food enough to feed seventy, every comfort that a man could ever want, and he really never did stop smiling, a gentleman in every way, and his companion, that was with him when he met us, was his brother. They both lived in the same house. He let us relax 'til nightfall, and asked if it would be permissible if we could then talk.\n\nWith more stars showing on this dry night, I'd doubt that one could count how many, even by placing his thumbs and fore-fingers together and counting only the ones in that small circle. It was beautiful sitting out on the terrace, and it didn't take long before Manual began talking about the situation in their small town.\n\n\"Last year there was a plague that hit our town, I think from a group that came up from Cilicia, and many of our folks got sick and died. When I say many died, I mean almost half the people that lived here. There was fever too high to get down, sores that ate the flesh off those that got it, and the agony was so great that screams could be heard day and night, it was a nightmare. We have mourned ever since, with great pain and suffering, but that is not the main cause of our misery. Brother Paul had been through here some couple of years ago, he left a few months before the sickness struck, and had given us the revelation of Jesus the Christ. Many days and nights he would preach and teach God's Word, and thru his reasoning and testimony, most in our town came to believe; our now life, thru the Spirit, was real and beyond our expectations. Many were healed of diverse situations, some from sickness, some from birth deformities, and many were filled with the outpouring of God's Spirit. And when this Plague hit, we continued in our faith, even after many had died, we continued in our faith; but when the religious leaders of the Jewish sect came by, it was quite a different story. We were told that it was God's revenge upon us that brought this devastation. It was that God was punishing us for things that we had done wrong, and we were to cease from this heretic new Life. Many of the folks knew that what they'd received from Christ was real and stood firm, some doubted and some even walked away from this life in Christ. Ever since this encounter with the Sadducees, the countenance of our town has gone down, getting worse by the month, with no end in sight. I shiver to think what might happen if this depression continues. The folks that persisted in our relationship with Jesus have been meeting every night at dusk to pray for help in this matter. And three days ago we got word that you were coming, and for a fact, knew God had sent you. Peter, what has God spoken to you?\"\n\nI knew what the answer was, but hesitated as I thought it through, wanting to get the full answer from God first. \"Manual, God has been talking briefly to all of us about this infection, although He has given no details, until now, but we knew that we were to come, and knew of the urgency, but not the facts. We'd met some folks two days ago, and knew something was wrong, but not a word was spoken. I knew they were fleeing from something, but God held back the answer until our arrival. Yes, God has sent us here, and tomorrow at dusk we will discuss this topic.\"\n\nManual left and went back into the house, the other four in our group stayed for a while, but nothing was said for five or ten minutes, so they went back into their room also. Andrew began to speak at the same time John spoke; and John yielded. \"Brother Simeon, we've dealt with this before, but not on such a large scale. We all know the enemy, and as long as he lives, there will always be trouble. This matter of buying in, and being blindly led about the false 'ruthlessness of God', will always prevail, as long as man focus' on the things of the visible world. The enemy is not the Jews, no, not by a long shot. The enemy is the unstable mind of man, and all that watch thru their natural eyes will be blinded to the Grace, Love, and the friendship of God. For it's neither flesh, or blood, not the effects of the plague of that we wrestle against, but the spirit of the carnal mind that has been inflicted on many by the infectious words from the self-serving religious leaders.\n\nThe stars were still as bright as before, as they slowly rotated towards the western mountains, each of the three of us were relaxed, and then John whispered in a soft but concerted voice; \"This stay here in Derby is meant as much for us, as it will be for them. It is our time to learn, and to watch God grow inside of each of us.\"\n\nThe three of us knew each other well, and most of the time, knew from the same Spirit, what had to be done. The other four were good men, they loved the Lord, and were growing daily, but we didn't correlate with them, nor they us, as John, Andrew and I did with each other. It was not that they weren't good men, they were, and we all loved them, but their journey, as yet, has been but short.\n\nThe next morning as I awoke, still lying down motionless, the Lord spoke to me thru the quietness of the pre-dawn day ahead. \"These people are my people; they are those that I gave my Son's life for. When they hurt, I hurt; when they are stolen from, it is me that suffers the lost also. In me there is no condemnation, nor any separation, for my desire is to be their God, for they are my people. I Love them because I Love them, not for what they do or don't do, but because My Love desires a relationship with them, and all others.\"\n\nStill lying on my back, looking up, but seeing nothing, for it was still as dark as pitch, I meditated on these words until they became a part of me. Sometimes my thoughts would go to these people's hurt from their loss, or their pain coming from being impoverished, or why they would receive the rejection from the religious leaders, but the thought always came back to their need to be Loved.\n\nAn hour later we were stirred by the clanging sound of metal against metal; it was a call to breakfast. Walking outside, the other six were already there, and Manual stood at the doorway of another building, motioning with his arms to come. With all the food spread on the table, I could tell that the women folk were up a lot earlier than I; there was enough food to feed twenty. And within five minutes, there was about twenty scattered about the table. The mood was pleasant, but I could still see concern in Manual eyes.\n\nAfter eating, my brother, John, and the other four men met in the center of his elaborate homestead, an area somewhat like a court-yard, flat, clean, swept dirt and three trees growing right in the middle with a stone stool to sit and wait out the summer heat on. John was first to speak as he told us his thoughts about these folks in Derby. Andrew said he had a dream about the goings-on of the folks here, and could somehow feel the extent of their pain. Both men were on the same plain-of-thought that I was; we were in unison.\n\nThat day, as we separated into twos or threes, we walked among the houses and people of this downcast but clean town, listening as God spoke His word-of-knowledge of the truth behind this unfortunate situation. And as many as would listen to us, we told them of the meeting that was to take place at dusk, and asked if they would come and share their thoughts and ideas of this spirit that consumed them. Several of the other men in town said they would help, for they knew that many would not be there unless encouraged again to come.\n\nThis was one of those extraordinary situations that it was better for them to come to a central place, than it was to individually minister to each of them. Nearly half the town was in depression and the other half were needed to stir them into coming, their help was appreciated.\n\nThis leadership role that I had taken from the beginning of this walk was now thought of by me as an ideal of youth, and no longer held the prestige of my younger years. So going, to first Andrew, and then John, I asked if they would be willing to direct tonight's events, for I knew that God had used them many times before, and their discernment for the things of God were at times superior to mine. Both were puzzled, as expressed by the look on their face, and both said they were uncomfortable taking the role of leadership, and could be used more effectively in the background. I felt confident in the nurturing role that lied ahead, but I too began thinking in their same direction.\n\nThat evening, as the sun began to hide itself over the western sky, the people of Derby began coming towards the three trees that sat in, what I call a court-yard, just outside of Manuals' house. The masses of folks looked like ants coming back to their nest when a summer rain began to fall, there were more people living in this town than I'd thought possible. And it wasn't long before the whole area was filled with all ages of men, women, and children, and most had carried their concerns on their faces.\n\n\"My beloved, my brothers and sisters in Christ, take heed to the words as the Spirit of God moves among us all. This plague that has ridden through your town was devastating in every way, and my heart is with all. I beseech you to give ear to the things of God, for those that have ears to hear, a healing is forthcoming. God is the God of Love, not that which has been spoken about from those of old, He is always kind. This loss that the entire town has suffered, only God knows the end from the beginning; and I hurt with you, but all will be revealed before long.\"\n\n\"In my youth, while walking with God's sent Shepard, saw a certain man that was crippled from birth, and I asked the Lord; 'from whose sin does this man suffer, from his own or from that of his parents'? And the Lord spoke in that usual whisper of a voice and said; 'from neither sin does is this man made crippled, but for the Glory of God'. I know not the end result, but I have confidence in our Savior to see this thru to the end. Take heed, and wait upon our Lord, for he is always faithful to Himself thru his Love; and you are His Love.\"\n\nAs I looked around, I could see a stirring among those gathered, not necessarily a gleam of hope, but an arousal of the spirit within, for their attention was focused on the Word spoken.\n\n\"I know some years back that our brother Paul passed this way and gave you a hope of redemption, an inner peace to those that believed, and you did believe. That same hope cannot be removed from those that wait upon the fulfillment of His promise. The plague is indeed an eating away of the flesh, and must not be misunderstood as the wrath, nor punishment from the Lord. And I too know not that which God will build to His people from this calamity, but I am assured of His restoration. For what God has begun, He will see it thru to the end. But folks, this is not the real problem that has entered into this town. It is the intrusion of the man-made laws and ideas from those that come serving on behave of a structure, that three days after Jesus' death was rebuilt in the hearts of man, that is; His temple. Let not the traditions of men take that which was freely given by the Christ through the Apostle Paul, from those that received his Word.\"\n\nThis time as I again looked around, I saw most sitting up straight and their eyes fixed upon that which they did receive from the Spirit; and the hope of their redemption was beginning again to refocus. My brother, John, and the others also, were now sitting in amongst the crowd. A veil had been lifted, although there was still a sense of fog among the crowd.\n\n\"We are not to be pleasers of men, nor followers of the fables given to many from the sect of our forefathers that has placed a yoke upon as many as would follow their regulations. Our Lord does not bestow upon us condemnation, and this plague is not from no sin, nor from doing, nor not doing, of that which is required of us, nor is there any condemnation to those that are in Christ. Jesus, while still hanging on the cross, asked the Father to forgive them and us; to not hold this to our account, so why then would this never changing Christ, hold any sin to yours'? Let not your heart be troubled, nor receive this separation that has been attempted to be place on you. You are God's children, and this I am assured and this calamity will be used to purify a people, and will bring about a result of Hope that God had stored from the beginning. Be strong, for there are among us those that are dressed in sheep's clothing, but on the inside, are full of dead mans' bone, wolves and vipers ready to strike at any weakness they perceive. For I assure you that what God has begun in you, He will stay with you through it, to the end.\"\n\nAs I finished speaking that which was given to me, a whirlwind entered the area where we had gathered. It was now like the sun had risen in the midst of darkness, like an awakening as all rose to their feet to greet this new-born day. With very little help from me, the Holy Spirit established Himself in the hearts of these people, a reunion of sorts. Where emptiness once prevailed, Hope now reigned; where sight was lost, a new beginning sprang up.\n\nAs the days went by, it was noised abroad of the happenings in Derby. The Apostle Paul had spent much time here and the unbelieving Jews and part of the Gentiles stirred no small matter of evil against us that had brought this word of Hope. Paul had previously been expelled from this town and now, again the unbelievers were stirring up the prominent devout women and the chief men of the city; raising up a persecution against us also to expel our group from the town and region. But the multitude in the city were divided, part sided with the Jews, and part with us Apostles. And we had heard that they had made a covenant to abuse and stone us, but we had become aware of it and fled. If not for those that were awakened and believed, I would have thought that our days would have been done, but God had different plans, and I now know, looking back, that our group was protected from the beginning.\n\nLeaving, we each continued to preach the Gospel as God gave us lead.\n\nPlaces of Hope\n\nTwo weeks later, our small group was, after much rest in the wilderness, walking into Lystra. This city was on the fringes of the region where the main population had gathered over the centuries, and the cities were getting to be much larger. We were glad to be there even though John was to depart from us and go the way the Lord had shown to him.\n\nThe last couple of days in Derby were fearful, but enlightening, as we saw a people filled with despair rise up in an awakening and stand firm in the things of the Lord. And all of us witnessed a change of heart in a people from the spiraling descend of destruction, to a correlated mass of Hope. God had used them in a mighty way, teaching all seven of our group, a deeper truth than we'd reached before, in me an awakening by His profound wisdom. I was no longer the teacher, but the student.\n\nMuch more activity was going on in this city of bustling folks, Lystra proclaimed to have the entrance gate of the new world, for much of the trade world stopped and ended here. This was the central stopping place for the southern half of the region, where the east met the west. The people in their colorful clothes were friendly, but not personal. They would nod a hello as they sped by, or begged a pardon if in the way, but not a person stood long in one place, at least, not long enough to be talked with; to say the least, it was a busy city. Normally we would walk to the market square, and today was no different, that was the place where the most information could be had in the shortest amount of time. But on this day, we stood there for several hours before the pace slowed to the point to where someone would talk with us.\n\nFinding accommodations, we spent the evening hours talking to the few that had the time, or had slowed down enough to speak, for even after dark there was much ado. Just saying the name of the Apostle Paul would bring a reaction, some were glad that he was gone, and some hoped for his soon return; the city was filled with many different ethnic groups, and it seemed all had heard of him in one way or another. And it didn't take long after that to find out where the believers gathered, and their feelings on the subject of their gathering.\n\nLystra was similar to Jerusalem with its' commerce, and the many different cultures that did business there, for the port cities down south used this route to carry their goods to the bigger cities to the north and west. Most of the friendliness was due to public relations, more than it was just a considerate gathering of settled people.\n\nThree or four streets over, were two long rows of shops and shanties that lined each side of the street that split them. There, people were much more relaxed and moved at a much slower pace, a friendly section that was made up the folks that worked for their living, and were permanent to the city. This was where it began to look more like the down to earth folks, and they each had time to chat about the weather, talk about their ailments, or sit around watching for the next shooting star, it was enjoyable being with these people.\n\nA certain man that had been healed was the first to recognize who we were, or rather what we were in the Lord, Apostles. For years before, when Paul had observed him, a man without strength in his feet, sitting, crippled from his mother's womb, and had never walked, spoke to him. For Paul knew that this man had faith to be healed, saying in a loud voice; \"stand up straight on your feet\", and leaping to his feet, he walked. This man greeted us knowing that God had sent others, us, to their fare city, and had been awaiting these years for our arrival. He was filled with the Spirit and proclaimed the name of Jesus throughout every facet of his life, a man full of joy and appreciation.\n\nGoing to this man's house, for he still lived with his parents, we were introduced and made to feel welcomed. Shortly after the introductions, the men traveling with us left to search out others in the city. John was preparing his thoughts to leave, but wanted to know more about that which this man proclaimed, so he and Andrew went inside with me. We were given all the normal salutations, a bite to eat, water to wash our feet, and were made comfortable in every way.\n\nAs he told us of the happenings with Paul, we sat in amazement, for this man did not appear to have had a problem in his life, much less having been born crippled. He told us the story, and spoke about after his deliverance; saying, the folks in Lystra said; \"The gods have come down upon us in the likeness of men.\" But at that time, neither Paul, nor Barnabas were privy to what they said, but when they both found out what was being said about them, rent their clothes and cried out. \"Men, why are you doing these things? We are also men with the same nature as you, and preach to you that you should turn away from these useless things to the living God, who made the heaven, the earth, the sea, and all things that are in them, who in bygone generations allowed all nations to walk in their own ways. Nevertheless, He did not leave Himself without witness...\" And as the once crippled man continued in telling the story, he began to show pain from deep within, not for his own pain, but for the way Paul was treated. But Paul was not to be swayed by the likeness of men. And a few days later, men from other cities came and they conjoined together to stone Paul, and then dragged him from the city, supposing him to be dead.\n\nThis took place less than two years back, and the temper of those of the Jewish sect, and those that wouldn't believe, still carry their doings with pride, and would surely do it again. If not for the sake of believing they were right, but because of the nobility from those of the same sect gave them.\n\nSo the three occupants of this certain man's home told us that unless God was speaking directly, discretion should be used. But they were thrilled that we were there, and their home was open to whatever we decided, and for as long as was needed. For, with not only them, but many in the town also, put much stock in the Words of God from the apostles.\n\nThe next morning as the sun rose pink over the eastern horizon, we said our good-byes to John as he journeyed toward the leading of the Holy Spirit. John wanted to seclude himself for a time, as he said God was dealing with him about certain issues, and thought if he would put pen to parchment, and began writing, he could sort through them. He was not one to keep silent, for much was given to him, and the isolation would probably not last all that long, God was going to use him in mighty ways, but we were to miss him greatly.\n\nWe were not to stay long in Lystra , for our call was to go to Antioch of Phrygia, for God had stored something, engineered just for me, but what, I, as of yet, had no idea.\n\nThe sect of religious leaders in this part of the world thought the same way those of Judea thought, but in this region they were more blatant in their attacks on the followers of Jesus. For many years, really centuries, their synagogues and temples were placed in such a high esteem, that they were worshipped it in the stead of God. They had left their first love and did like Aaron had done, and that was make an idol for substitution, their so called place of worship. To become a leader in their sect meant that the outward appearance of godliness had to be kept up; when they fasted, it was flaunted in every street; when they prayed, it was done openly and long for all to see and hear; when they gave alms, it was to be seen, and of course; when it came to keeping the law, their own law, it was done with anything but righteousness, and with pure diligence. The law was kept and worshipped with every jot and tittle in place, every letter of it paraded in every form of the imagination. But of a truth, they denied the power of God with their method of so-called godliness. Proselytes, those recruited to join their band were, for the most part, humiliated or forced to surrender to their arranged customs. All this I understood from my youth up, but what concerns me is; that the believers have seen nothing else but this form of religion, and may want to start their own private church. People are not to be recruited to an organization, but to the God that organized the universe; not to a form of godliness, but to the bodily form of Christ Jesus and Him resurrected; not to the way that seems right, but to the righteousness of God ways, that which he expressed through His son Jesus; that is Love. When the Sadducees, Scribes, elders, and chiefs of the temple felt threatened, they would simply remove the threat, this is if they could. A few years back, Paul was in the way, and now, I am, and this friendly man that was healed reminded us of that.\n\nA few days after entering into Lystra, and the meeting of more than a few true believers, we made ready to leave for Antioch, but without John. He said that God spoke to him about going to Perga, and was leaving the same time as us. The other four men thought about going south to Myra, a seaport town, and maybe head back towards Galilee, by way of ship. Andrew and I knew what we had to do, and that was go to Antioch of Phrygia, a four day journey, for we both knew that God had stored something special for us there.\n\nThe next morning the sky was filled with clouds, but not the kind that rain fell from, it was pleasant and we were ready. John turned toward the west, the others toward the south, and Andrew and I took our first steps northeast just as the sun was rising on our backs, and a rather large swarm of gnats had gathered between us and our destination. We had known before we'd entered Lystra that our stay would be short, maybe gather a few supplies, for our goal was still farther down the road, sensing urgency, two cities up, and were ready for this leg of the trip. I'd asked the younger men that were going back to Galilee, to give my wife messages from me, and they said that it would be one of the first things they did upon their return.\n\nNow Andrew and I both were in our mid-fifties, both of us strong, but could tell that my legs were not as strong as earlier days, but had no doubt that there were a lot of miles left in them. As we walked this well-traveled road, began to notice all the many different cultures that used this same corridor, as it was one of only two that could be used in this hilly terrain. Each region of the middle-east had their own attire, with their own individual markings or symbols that represented the clan from which they had lived. Some were brightly colored, some striped, some of different cloth but solid in color, but all wore their own unique head dress. Occasionally we'd stop and ask where they were from or to where they were going, and several of the times we'd sit and talk, and frequently our conversation would trail to the things of God. Most of the folks in this area were followers of the off-shoot of Ismael that gave them similar, but yet different variations of that which was taught by Abraham, and most were friendly.\n\nThey knew Jehovah God, they knew of circumcision, and these they practiced, but only a few knew of the Son of God and of Him represented on earth. And it was our privilege to tell them of such matters. Many would listen and ask questions, showing a genuine interest, for their God was our same living God, but all they now had was, some man that now interpreted what God was saying to the people, and called His name something different than we used. Hearing about God's Son being resurrected from the death and grave intrigued a hope that they'd never experienced, and sometimes wanted to hear more.\n\nSometimes a single man was traveling, sometimes it was a whole family, and many times it was a group of business men that traveled this corridor with their wares from one city to the next. At least a half dozen times there were caravans of folks journeying with large parades of camels, some with herds of goats and sheep, and some using a string of donkeys as pack animals, all had somewhere to go, but none seemed to be in a hurry. The country was arid, and anyone that had ever traveled before knew not to hurry, but once in a while we'd see someone making haste.\n\nIn late evening, Andrew and I stopped, making camp, to eat and prepare for a nights' rest, and this time we were with an already gathered group. Most of the time the groups would spread out over several acres and were made up of many different families that weren't traveling together, and it made for some interesting nights of entertainment, but with Andrew and me, we were focused on the mission ahead. So when someone would advance to invite us to their tent for talk, it was, for the total part, for the forwarding of God's Kingdom; and most folks were interested. Of course they would talk of their lives, back-grounds, families and such, but always the conversation would turn to the resurrection of Christ, for at this place in our lives, we knew of nothing else to talk about. It was our lives.\n\nThe next night, after sitting up camp, I'd noticed that up the hill, slightly, was a camped group of people that looked prominent in every way. Their caravan was not large, but still contained at least forty folks ranging in age from new-born to very old. The patriarch and his family traveled in these coaches that straddled two long poles on each side, carried by eight men each, and there were three of them. It was not hard to see that this was a man of wealth, maybe of nobility, but assured myself that he was well known, from where, I didn't know. As I stood a distance off observing, for I'd only seen something like this twice before, the head-man came out from the large tent, approaching me, and asked if I'd like to join him for a cup of herbal tea. It was a concoction of roots and leaves off some unknown plants, but good, as we sat just outside the doorway of a large, striped colored domain that was called their temporary home, and sipped. He introduced himself as Joahaz.\n\nAfter our usual chat about how dry it was, and how hot the sun gets right after noon time, we began to speak in more personal tones. He was a man from Philippi and was traveling toward Jerusalem, and had been doing so for the last three months, looking for , what he called a 'man of healing' to heal his daughter. She had gotten sick the summer before with fever, and it soon escalated to the point that she couldn't move the right side of her body. Her speech was slurred, could only hear out of one ear, and in her right eye, she was completely blind.\n\nI listened carefully as Joahaz humbly told the story of his daughter, which he loved dearly, and how he was on a quest to find this man, if indeed the man really existed. The humility in his voice was not that of a man of nobility; nor of the usual wealthy type, for his love for his daughter was worth more than any prestige, notoriety, or anything that money could buy. Joahaz was an upright man, and lived among the Ammonite clan of people from the north, but they could, in no way help with this debilitating ailment.\n\nThe man did most of the talking, and I could tell that something inside him had a need to get it out, so I listened. My attention was on his words, but once in a while I would look around at the other camp fires, the silhouettes of the distant hills in gray night, or ever-so-often, watch a falling star, but always my concern was on his child and the brokenness that it was causing in the family.\n\nJoahaz had taken her to the synagogue and temple of the Jews, some month's journey from his home, but all they would say was, that it is because of his misarranged life-style that caused this to be placed on her, and needed to pay penitence. He continued by saying that he knew that everything in his life was not always pleasing to others, but always tried living a fair and decent life, one that the family didn't have to shun from. The village where he made home was far to the north, and had many sheep, goats and camels in his possession and was called rich in other peoples' standards, but now felt poor, for the welfare of the daughter was more important than anything money had ever done for him. Her name was Janomi. Joahaz had heard that the people from Abraham had a Savior, a Messiah that walked on earth healing as many as would come to Him, called the Son of God. For he knew of Abraham, and knew him well, and the stories of old, and he heard of Moses also from the same stock, for in the legends of his own country, these were mighty people. But when Joahaz had approached them, the Jews, they hadn't a clue as to what to do, they just shrugged him off. But it was then that he'd heard about this Messiah, and pursued to find Him, only to learn, and that of late, that the Roman's and Sanhedrin had him killed.\n\nIt was hard to listen in silence, and although Joahaz had his facts more or less straight, he had no comprehension of whom or what Jesus is, but knew that there was hope within this Savior. As he continued, I sat hearing a broken man wanting more in this life than it had afforded thus far, and now knew that life was more than the prosperity money could or couldn't bring. He wanted Life.\n\n\"Although, it is said, that the messiah is dead, we'd heard he implanted his will and Power into those that followed Him, and that my friend, is my mission to find, those called apostles. Finding these men of God, I am assured, will restore my daughter to health. As my servants obey me, I also will render to the Word of God. These months of travel has shown me that no one in any sect can bring about this change that is sorely needed, but I am convinced that this God of the Messiah can.\"\n\nI sat a few minutes pondering the root of all he said, for I also, at one point in my life, pursued money and the prestige it could buy, but now I was at a loss of words to speak to this shadow of a man. I knew what to do, but just didn't find the words to say to him. I'd thought about calling for Andrew, but that didn't make sense either, so I sat quietly for a few moments.\n\nIn a short time it came to a remembrance in me, 'the vision' that the Lord had given to me those decades ago. \"What God has cleansed you must not call common\", and then after Jesus had risen he spoke to us; \"All authority has been given to Me in Heaven and earth. Go therefore and make disciples of all the nations...I am with you always, even to the end of the age.\" It was brought up in my memory that the same word 'nations' in both of these teachings were used, for Cornelius was also of another nation, and God, with His never-ending Grace reminded me again that night; and I was thankful.\n\nLooking up as I stood, looking Joahaz directly in the eyes Spoke: \"I perceive that you are a man of sincerity, and your faith has brought you thus far, this same God that you seek is not cornered in any particular place, but covers the whole of the land. This same Jesus, although was crucified, is now resurrected and able to minister to as many as come to Him in Faith. For the Spirit in man to be complete in this life, his soul must be willing. I am solidly confident that in the name of Jesus, your redemption is now observed, and your daughter is healed.\"\n\nJoahaz was listening with intent, and as I spoke, a stirring began in his tent, noises of varying pitches filled the air, and he didn't waiver in any degree. And as two of his servant ran toward him shouting many inaudible phrases, Joahaz turned to see that behind them was his whole family, including his daughter.\n\nEven though the large camping area was spread out over a lot of real estate, the sounds coming from this family was enough to bring them all together, to ascertain the cause. It was then that a party of Jews wandered in and saw that I too had a part in it. Showing their dissatisfaction, I left.\n\nThere was much rejoicing, and that night was festive with music and praises, as the wholeness of his family was returned.\n\nEarly the next morning, as Andrew and I arose and made ready to travel, for our next stop in Iconium was but a short distance away; and from there, go to Antioch. No one in any of the other camps had stirred a muscle, for it was quiet with the exception of some of the night creatures, and a distant call of a bird. This time, thinking it would be better to leave before we said our good-byes, Joahaz will be firm in his belief, and solid in his faith as he would probably turn around and go back to his land, still not knowing that it was one of the apostles that spoke with him.\n\nIt was two days later when we reached an oasis, and two days after that that we reached Antioch. It was a large city nestled in the pass of some fairly rugged mountains; the only pass one could travel without going a hundred miles north, and had grown large, as it was the gateway from east to west, or vise-versa. Most of the north/south traffic centered also in this city, as a road was carved eons ago on the peaks of the mountains ranging the same direction. This city was almost as big as Jerusalem, and had about as many people, but this municipality drew a linage quite different than that of the Galilee region. These were hard people that scratched their living from the mediocre sparseness of the surrounding land, made up of more than a few ethnic groups. But still a welcomed sight as we approached, we were glad to be there, for God has specifically told Andrew and me both, that this city was to be reached. Without a doubt, I knew there was a purpose, but what it was, I would shortly find out.\n\nAs we walked into the city, it had already been noised that we were coming; Barnabas and Titus met us, not knowing our face, but were certain of our identity. Greeting us with smiles and a Holy kiss, embraced us to follow them to the place where they camped, asking if we would camp near-by, and the answer was yes. That evening, after everything was squared away, Andrew and I followed them to the city where many acquaintances were met. Now Paul was in the city also, and pitched his tent near us, but as of yet, we hadn't met him, but knew of the great works that were wrought thru him by the Grace of God. Paul, being a Jew, had an encounter with Jesus on a road some decades ago, and now preached mainly to the Gentiles, and in Antioch made no small stirring among the people, for he was known through-out all the region between the two seas.\n\nNow Titus and Barnabas worked hand-in-hand with Paul, for they too had a call from God in their spirit. Many introductions were made that night, and to my surprise, many had already learned of the name of Peter.\n\nIt took but a short time to find out that circumcision was of no small matter among the many different ethnic groups, and many were rigid in their belief, for as many were on one side as there were on the other side of the issue. In meeting someone, it took but a few moments before the one met would voice his opinion on the subject of circumcision, and most were boisterous about it. Many times we were asked our position on the subject, and not wanting to close any doors, I tried to remain neutral on the subject.\n\nNow Titus and Barnabas both ministered with Paul, and were in agreement with him in just about every detail, and were also favored with Paul amid the people, at least a large portion of them. They were men that reverend God and could hear His voice; men that very genuinely had a personal relationship with the Creator, and walked in His Grace. It was a true asset to count them now among our friends, and their introductions were well appreciated, for through them, I'm sure, the true mystery of why God sent me here would be revealed.\n\nThat evening ran well into the night before I thought to turn back to camp to pray and evaluate this new city that was so far from home.\n\nNew Friends, and old Ways\n\nI'd been traveling now for more than a few months, getting close to sixty years old; my legs may hurt once in a while, but feel almost as strong as I did twenty years ago. This is my first week in Antioch of Phrygia, having spent most of the days making new friends and meeting a somewhat different kind of culture, but all-in-all, glad to be here.\n\nOver the past months, especially the last few weeks, I began missing my wife. On occasion, I have sent messages to her, and twice, I've received back dispatches from her stating the happenings of her doings, and each was a refreshment to hear. In these travels, I have met some very special people, and most were entwined in their families, and to watch their interconnection was one of the pleasures of the trip. But on this particular night, I was missing my wife more than usual. In the past twenty something years, I have spent little, and occasionally no time at all, with my family; with the exception of Andrew, and on this night was exceptionally home sick.\n\nI know that what I'm doing is right, and, I think predetermined by the Will of God, and I have no regrets; the sacrifice is well worth the journey to adulthood, and seeing the Ways of God preformed before my eyes. In this still and somewhat cool night, I began to consider my old life; not that I'd go back to those ways of living, but evaluating if indeed I'd made the right decision. I love my wife, and she me, and we made this choice together, and was still hoping that her verdict about this was remaining the same as before. And from the relays, I'm confident it is.\n\nAs I laid on the flat of my back, looking through the flap of the tent, watching the small curls of clouds float by; thought about this life that was placed on her, and knowing it was to be unpredictable, and just what she thought, this many years later. I sure couldn't have picked a more precious woman, and in my foolish way of thinking, wondered if she thought the same about me. We had talked extensively about our choice of my travels, and all that we could ascertain from that thought process, and didn't know where they would lead, but did we still think the same way about it now that these many years had passed? The last word relayed to me from her was in Derby, and it was from a man that was told by a group in Tarsus to pass it to me when and if they found me; the message was a great word of support, and all is well down south. I too have sent many messages to her through other travelers, and I'm confident that most of them made to her.\n\nI continued lying there, with all these and other thoughts running thru my mind, some carnal, and most on the things of the Spirit. I knew God had a purpose for me being in Antioch, and for the most part never knew what lied ahead, for who knows the thoughts of God, or His ways, but one thing I'd learned through the years, was not to fear Him with regret. Looking for Him in one direction, He'd always reveal Himself from another; getting 'so-called smart', and watching the backwards door, thinking, that's the way He'll show Himself, again, the revelation would yet come from a place not expected. All I can say about the matter is; who knows His thoughts or His ways? God is always God, and I am pleased to have met Him thru His Son Jesus.\n\nI really didn't get much sleep that night, and when the sun had roused me, I realized that this was the first time in many years that I didn't see the new days' arrival, but for an odd reason, I felt rested. I must have slept at some point, but didn't realize it, and it was a pleasant night of thought, as I woke to the sun fully out.\n\nGetting up, I could see in the distance, the swarm of folks doing their daily business, and walked in that direction. Andrew had been keeping an eye out for me as I entered the main part of the city. Filling me in on the goings-on of what he could observe. He'd found out where Paul was, for earlier Titus had spoken about his work in Grace throughout the area, and was as yet preparing a larger group on the other side of town, ministering to them the mercies and love of God. Andrew wanted to go in a certain direction, but my mind was set to go in another, so we split up early that day.\n\nWalking along a row of houses that looked as if they were made of hewn stone, like those we walked by coming up the mountains, neatly made with great care, and I could tell they were built centuries ago, but still solid as the mountain they were made from. Indeed this was where the older families of the city lived, as it didn't take long to meet several people that were willing to tell the story of their history; where their ancestors came from, and how many generations had lived in the same house. These were not uneducated folks by any means, but men and women that knew the country, and why this city began ages ago, and how several of the families, still living here, had grown rich in this cross-road capital of trading. Through tradition, they had their own beliefs, but the man standing in front of me now, a Gentile named Heziriah, knew the transparency of their religion, and it was now growing old with its' worthlessness, for the elders would speak of spiritual prosperity, but nothing was happening to their followers except they were dying off. He wasn't old, but still living in the same house with his parents that were old, that looked to him now to run their affairs.\n\nHe had told me of this rather small group in town that brought into it a new message of hope, and wanted to know if I was privy to the situation.\n\n\"Sir, have you heard of the Messiah from Bethlehem that brought Truth to those that searched?\" I said, but not waiting on his response. \"And He that was sent by God, in fact from God, knows the end from the beginning, for He Himself is the Alpha and Omega. One that has brought proof that the living God reins. For no other name shall be called upon for salvation, but the name of Jesus, the Christ of God. For that which man had tried to do, but could in no way do, this same Jesus conquered by the Grace of God, redeeming man back to the Father of Creation, by Love.\"\n\nThis same man that was leaning upon the lintel post, now stood straight with interest gleaming from every part of his face, for the words spoken had hit an inner place in his being that began to burn with interest. And then spoke; \"I have heard tales spoken about this man Paul, and of his encounter with this one you call Jesus, but have only heard through others; and from his mouth, I have heard nothing. Are you in association with Paul?\"\n\n\"Paul, also a brother, and an Apostle in Christ, and I have not crossed paths until now that I have arrived in Antioch, and as of yet, we have not met, except once in Jerusalem, but there is but one Father, and one Son, and only one Spirit for all in Christ, and we speak the same one language through the same Creator of all. Those in Christ are united by the Love that God shared thru His Son; therefore we are all of the same family.\"\n\nBending back, while looking me straight in the eyes, he smiled, as if content in my rendering of the subject, said in a low keyed tone of speech; \"I know where this Paul is, if you'd like, will take you there, for I too want to hear more of this Love that is spreading throughout the country. For the words that I'm hearing that are preached about, are not that of the religious leaders that we have heard before, do you want me to take you there?\"\n\nAs we began walking thru town, I could see multitudes of people about their daily chores, some would stop to speak, but most were determined to conquer their daily goals. While walking, but not more than a block or two, I saw Titus and Barnabas on the other side of the street looking in our direction, and began thinking through my flesh, that being with this man, a Gentile, might be inappropriate. Feeling flushed, and a little embarrassed, I excused myself for a few moments from him, and walked in their direction, only to see their face turn from a smile to disappointment. At that time I didn't realize that they understood exactly what I'd done, but then remembered the words that I spoke to Heziriah about the same Spirit for all who are in Christ, for both brothers in the Lord knew what I had done. At that point, I was unacceptable to myself. Especially after the Lord had given to me, those decades ago, the vision of the sheet with all manner of unclean beast in it, and I said that nothing unclean had ever entered into me. But was told to kill and eat, and call no man common, for all have been cleansed.\n\n\"What was I to do? Did I hurt Heziriah's feelings? How about Titus and Barnabas? What's God thinking about me now? My thoughts were going every which way, and far too fast to process, I just didn't know what to do, so I ran back to where I'd left the bewildered man standing in the street; but he was gone. Not knowing exactly where he was taking me, I began to wander in the same direction in hopes of finding him, or for that matter, the Apostle Paul. When younger, I'd put my foot in my mouth with my haste of words, later I'd act them out in some useless deed or motion, but that was maybe thirty years ago, and you'd think, Peter, that something would've been learned\" I said to myself as I walked aimlessly through the streets. My mind went places that it shouldn't ought to go; I was ashamed, not just of what I did, but how it came so easily.\n\nAs I continued wandering through the streets of Antioch, and some couple of hours later, I found the place that Paul was preaching, and sitting on the-out-skirts of the room, I listened. As I heard the words spoken by this once met Apostle, I could see in clearness, that for a fact, Paul had had a true encounter with the same Jesus that I and the other eleven had walked with. The words spoken by him were similar in kindness and empathy to those of Christ, even in his tone, which made me glad inside, but for obvious reasons, also deepen my embarrassment. At this moment, I began to think to myself, and evaluate the real person that lived inside of this skin I, called Simon Peter; then remembered, that I too was an Apostle, which only added to the down-hill slid I was already in, I was hurting inside. A hurt so deep, knowing one thing, but doing another, that I thought my bones would shatter. I knew I had a journey to travel, but this ache within me hurt more than when Jesus, looking at me, said; \"get behind me satan.\" I just sat there with my chin in the palms of my hands, and my elbows on my knees, crying in self-pity for who I was.\n\nIt was probably hours that I sat there, I could hear and see what was going on, but my mind wouldn't let it register, before Barnabas came to sit beside me. He had been walking among the gathered crowd in exhortation and any other means of ministering, but said not a word, at least for a while. I believe he knew I was hurting for some reason, not known to him, sat quietly, therefore giving me time and space to regroup before speaking.\n\n\"What do you think thus far? Barnabas said with a pleasant look that I didn't expect.\n\n\"Right now I don't know what to think, but this I know; Paul has an understanding of the things of God.\" That was about all that I could get out, at the time.\n\n\"If you'd like, when all have gone back home, would you join the three of us over by the stone table that we use as the center-piece?\n\nMy mind was racing much faster than the mouth could speak, and I'd felt sort of backed in a corner. Looking back, I can now see that it was me backing myself in the corner. All I could do at that point was to say \"yes\".\n\nBefore all the gathered folks had left, pitch dark, still sitting in the same spot, I heard a voice over my left shoulder, it was Heziriah. \"Peter, from the look on your face, I'd say you're troubled, and I hope it isn't from our little ordeal earlier. Things like that happen to us folks, Gentiles, all the time. I understand the segregation and disposition that we sometimes place your people in.\"\n\nThis only added to my sorrows. I knew that it was his kindness that was coming out, a gentle man in every way, but to me, it was a blunt reminder of who I was. In my youth, I had never struggled with prejudice, nor was I tempted by my peers and the pressure they put on me, I walked where I wanted to go, and did what I wanted to do. But with this defect, that was working from within my flesh, I couldn't understand, people were always people, and I've never really seen them as anything but equals. It didn't matter about the color of their skin, or their nationality, or for that matter, what they believed, but now, even though my spirit is willing, my flesh wants to segregate.\n\nLooking back up to meet my eyes with Heziriah', all I could see was a man more godly than I'd ever hoped to become. Genuine in every way, standing there with a smile that was as big as the Orion, a man with true compassion, or he wouldn't be talking to me with that soft tone of voice. I knew that if this man could forgive me, then God would, and maybe, just maybe, I could also.\n\nAll I could say way; \"thank you, maybe, with your help, we could become best of friends.\"\n\nThe Tables are Turning\n\nWhen arriving back at our tent, the only one seen was Andrew. Him sitting there, on the ground, and leaning against some kind of tree I didn't recognize, I spoke to him that it was nice seeing another friendly face. We had chatted only a very short time before he noticed that something was troubling me, and spoke. \"Is it that you're missing your wife?\"\n\n\"No, it's not that\", and I hesitated a long moment, \"I know God had a purpose for sending me here, but right now, I'm having doubts.\"\n\n\"Simeon, I never would have traveled this far unless I was assured that the purpose was from God, and I am sure.\"\n\n\"We'll see,\" is all I could utter to come out my mouth.\n\nAndrew looked at me puzzled, thought for a minute, and then spoke; \"You're right, we will see, we'll see the value in God's time, for He is the beginning and the end of all things, and this too will bring His people together, for God is not slothful.\"\n\nLater that night, Titus and Barnabas snuck up while I must have been in a trance, or at least deep in thought, and asked if I could come to Paul's tent shortly after daylight the next morning, at Paul request, and I said I would.\n\nIt was one of those rare nights that sleep again evaded me, as I continued in thought of the 'who' that I am, but to no avail. I was stuck in this blindness and couldn't see pass my own nose. At times, I'd think I was on the edge of discovery, but then the process of the tally would again elude me. It was there, almost on the tip of my tongue, but it seemed the more I thought, the more confused I was.\n\nLong before daylight, I was up and stirring, the stars, of the last evening, had for the most part left, and a new set of them sparkled above my head, so I watched them slowly rotate while in wait of the first sign of gray as dawn announced itself. After several hours, Andrew joined me around the small fire I had kindled only an hour earlier, and we both sat quietly allowing the morning dew to settle on our shoulders. Finally, the gray gave way to the first glimmer of the sun's rays, and I did know that this past night was gone, and gone forever, and I was glad. Was that ray of hope, or the blindness of the dark, or did I really think that I had one more new beginning as the sun crested the hill above the city? I wasn't feeling good, by any means, but much better than I had when the night was dealing her darkness.\n\nLooking across the flat of the land at these groups of tents were pitched in, I could see the three men that we, or I, were to meet, which was only moments away from now. At least, I wished that Andrew was going with me. At the time, I seemed to desire his support, for at this time in my thought system, I didn't know what to think or what was going to take place.\n\nBefore I could make it all the way to Paul's camp, he was out to greet me in a very pleasant manner, his arm extended and a peaceful smile upon his face. This helped to alleviate the fear that was welling up inside, and I could now replace them with a genuine hello. Now, the last time that I'd seen Paul was many years ago in Jerusalem, and as a matter of fact, that really didn't go so well, but I loved my fellow brother in Christ and had a deep respect for what he was doing.\n\n\"Peter, I've so much looked forward to this.\" He said as motioning for me to sit between the other two disciples. \"It's been a long journey for the both of us, and at our age we seem to take things slower.\"\n\n\"It's seeing you again Paul; and the road, thus far, has been worth the effort through Christ, and I guess that you can see through these gray hairs that I too, am moving a little more meticulously.\"\n\nWe sat and talked about our encounters, the people healed, and those delivered, and once in a while would speak about our persecutions, and about those blinded by religion that thought they were doing the world a favor with their attacks.\n\nPaul looking up slowly, spoke even more slowly, when he said; \"those without this illumination in Christ are doing what they believe they're supposed to do, the blame is not on those instructed, but on those that instruct. And even then, through their blindness, they are not at fault, but on a mission for their belief, the blind leading the blind, for they have not the vision of Christ, and Him resurrected.\" I just shook my head in agreement, as he continued. \"My mission, granted to me by Christ, being a Jew by birth, am sent into the gentiles to show them a better way thru life without the burdens of the law placed on them by the religious sect of their region. For those under the law are instructed by the law, but those in Grace are no longer under the weight of the law; and we can therefore live free without that yoke.\"\n\nThis same Jesus that speaks to me, speaks also to all that seek Him, I thought pleasantly as Paul was giving his preamble. This same Jesus is one in all, the same, to those that seek, knock, and ask for His, and for his indwelling. And of all the different ministries, there is but one Minister, we are all in this together. A refreshing thought I as listened to one that had also met Him face to face.\n\n\"I have met several in my journey,\" I now spoke out loud, \"that have had a true encounter with the Lord of all who lives, and talking with you this beautiful morning, and hearing these words from you, is like a cool drink for a thirsty man, for the same message given to me, has also been enabled in many others of like-mind, thank you.\"\n\nPaul looked at me as if what I'd just said hit a button in his spirit, paused a few moments, and began to speak in a matter-of-fact tone, which I knew to have something in it just for me, so leaning forward, I listened with intent, but not expecting to hear what was to come from his mouth, or should I say, the mouth used by God.\n\n\"Peter, I know you to be a man of God, and from Him great works have been achieved thru you, and many of His mysteries have been revealed, but, I somewhat have aught against you. For before certain men came, you would eat with the Gentiles; but when the Jews came, you would withdraw and separate yourself, fear those who were of the circumcision. And the rest of the Jews also played the hypocrite with you, so that even Barnabas was carried away with their hypocrisy.\"\n\nI wasn't expecting this kind of prolog from this man, whom I much admired, and began to hang my head in shame, and at that moment wasn't about to say a word, I just listened, and I thought from within.\n\nA short instant later, Paul continued. \"If you, being a Jew, live in the manner of the Gentiles and not as a Jew, why do you compel Gentiles to live as Jews? We, who are Jews by nature, know God's truth, and knowing that a man is not justified by the works of the law but by faith in Jesus Christ, that we might be justified by faith in Jesus Christ and not by the works of the law; for thru the works of the law, no flesh shall be justified.\"\n\nThese words were hitting home, and what could I say; I sat there listening to this Apostle, surnamed Paul, tell me, an Apostle also, about the things of God with this tone of voice, but all I could think secretly was; he was right. As Paul hesitated for a long moment, with my mind racing, the best thing at this point was to put away my flesh and continue listening.\n\n\"But if, while we seek to be justified by Christ, and we ourselves are found again sinners'; is then Christ therefore a minister of sin? Certainly not. For if I again build those things which I destroyed, I make myself a transgressor. For I, through the law, died to the law, that I might live to God.\"\n\nMy heart ached; my brain was beginning to settle down, but not without my Spirit, with the calming voice within, saying; \"take heed of my sound as I nurture you thru this man.\" I again began to hear as the Spirit was teaching me, but I still felt shame, not necessarily from Paul, but from the already established knowledge of Jesus' words that lived within.\n\nAs Paul, now sitting, seeming to relax a little, lowering his voice a notch below the already proven efficiency of his words, continued again to speak, with a look of sincerity, and said. \"I have been crucified with Christ; it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now live in the flesh, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me. I do not set aside the Grace of God; for if righteousness comes through the law, then Christ died in vain.\"\n\n\"What could I say?\" I thought, but have not yet spoken a word as yet, for I knew these words to be true, and I'd known it from our experience at Pentecost. I had already known from the inside that what I was doing was done away with by the vision at Cornelius' house, but my attitudes of pleasing others to gain status hit me in a place I could no longer avoid. All that was said was true, and now I had to own it. My shame began to melt into a firmness of Spirit that I thought long ago was established, but evidently not, but this seed fell on the good ground of my being.\n\nTitus and Barnabas were still sitting only feet away and heard every word spoken, and it was plain to see that Barnabas too felt the impact of this reprimand, for his head hung low of the reprisal just heard.\n\nPaul, evidently a gentleman in every way, sat quietly, and with no foulness of expression, waited for all this to sink in, as I began to look one way, and then another, before I spoke. The air was not filled with bitterness, as I would have expected in my earlier years, but a peace from pain of the establishment of Gods' Truth in a man that sought to grow, and I did. For the last, more than several, weeks, God was preparing me for this visit in Antioch, and at the time, had no idea that it might be for this purpose, or am I supposing, but still as yet, the full impact of this learning session, hasn't fully sunk in.\n\nWhat could I say, at least at this point in the postscript, I thought with no facial or contrary response, for all that needed said, Paul said it; I had wronged more than a few, but more importantly, I had wronged the Grace in which I'd lived. So I said nothing, at least for a space of some minutes, before getting up, walking to Barnabas, and apologizing to his face; for of a truth, I was sorrowful and had shamed myself with this immature behavior.\n\nPaul knew what this meant, and also knew that the words that, I'm sure, he too toiled with, had taken root and was accepted. And as I turned around, looking in his direction, I could see a glimmer of a smile in the corners of his mouth, with relief now settling upon the face, he knew that this dreaded analogy was from God and had to be spoken.\n\nFor the next couple of days, I thought it wise to stay to myself in prayer, and allowing the seed planted, to grow. There were times of turmoil, times of gladness, times that seemed dark, but after all the deciphering, I had an appreciation for the mercy that was shown by God to me through Paul. This was one of those rare events in life, that is, this trial of my nonsense that I had performed in just about every city I'd gone too, and the lesson learned, and learned well, was well worth every pain and humiliation endured that I put myself through; for as of now the tables had turned once again in my life, and now am therefore much farther in my walk with the Lord.\n\nThen after these days of inventorying and cleaning out these, and a few more, skeletons out of my inner cloke, I discovered a man, that for the first time, truly sought the will of God without inhibitions. I am the beginnings of a man, with a reach much farther than the one that had walked these many miles; for more of the blinders were removed, the air clearer, and my focus was much more on the journey yet to come, and not on me.\n\nAfter these days, Paul again came to me with words, and I again listened with no anxiety, but glad to hear whatever tidings he brings,\n\n\"Peter, not many months ago I learned from God a truth that might be helpful to you, an understanding of a factor that has made a tremendous difference in my thinking. And I'd like to share it with you, if I may.\"\n\n\"Being Apostles in Christ together gives each a privilege that cannot be broken by man, nor principalities, nor of any who are not Christ minded; \"speak on.\" I said in a clear and assertive voice, for now, nothing will detour me from learning all I can of Truth.\n\n\"As we ponder on the things of God, we sometimes wrongly divide His word of Truth, for that of the flesh, is temporal, a carnal thing to consume upon that flesh; and that of the Spirit is not given to be wasted on the carnal aspect of man, but is sent as an exhortation to the eternal man within.\" Paul paused a few seconds, and looked to me with smiles, his hands clasped and leaning slightly forward to me in meekness. \"The 'who' of man is temporal and always earth bound, always seeking earth ways; but the 'what' of man is that which was given by God for His glory and must not be confused with the 'who' that we think we are. The 'who' is that which this world has created thru the people we know, our parents, all that in our environment, it is made up of the strengths and weakness of man.\" Paul said as he now moved a little closer to me, but still smiling that genuine grin, and paused again as he sat on a half burnt log next to our pit.\n\n\"The 'who' of man only matters in this world, but God can use that 'who' whenever he wishes; but remember, it is restrained by the dimensions of this world, the dust of this earth, and has but little effect concerning the things of God. For God can make the stones cry out in worship, or can make a dumb donkey speak, or even turn rocks into the children of Abraham; all can and are used by the Lord, we are limited, but He is not. But the 'what' of man is that which was made a new creature thru Christ; and all value is bestowed upon it; the 'what'.\"\n\nMy Spirit began to blend with these words, and it was like a hand reaching into my bowls to unplug that which was constrained. These were new words to me, but were received as if I'd known them all my life, and, another part of my emptiness was being filled with the Spirit, and began to overflow through my being as I spoke. \"The 'who' that I am, is as filthy rags, and has no righteousness of itself, but that which was planted by Christ in man, 'the what', has from the beginning, been righteous.\" This was like the time in Pentecost, when no thoughts of my own proceeded from my mouth, just the fullness of the Spirit as He flowed thru me.\n\n\"The 'who', that which was given by man,\" I continued speaking, \"has but temporal value, but the 'what' was given to each by Christ, and the indwelling of the 'what' that I am, and that alone, matters, to those that truly seek Him. We are the Sons of God, created from the foundations of the world, children designed for purpose, His righteousness, for of truth; God is the 'what' of man, His son. And He desires a relationship with each.\n\nPaul knew that I knew, and that was all that was said, we hugged a long time, and without a word, both of us turned to go our designated way, and left walking. The table had truly turned. The self-pity that had, had far too much of a hold on me, was now gone, I was delivered.\n\nWhat's on the Next Hill\n\nThe goings on of Antioch was no worse for wear because of my arrival, for I'd made amends to all that I hurt with my shenanigans, and now awaited the eastern sky to announce itself with new beginnings, so I could once again head in the northwest direction.\n\nA few weeks ago, the time Paul confronted me, was once again one of those experiences in life that can turn one's life around and be a true blessing of prosperity, and for a fact, it was for me. Heziriah had become a very dear friend to me, and I to him, his heart had been unchallenged with the pride of prejudice, and a man slow to anger; therefore, forgave me before I could get the whole apology out of my mouth. He was very instrumental in the advance of my growth, and I think kind people, such as him, know that as an end result, for patience will give a man much of what he'd never receive without it. So between him, Paul, and several others of this city, this Peter was a changed man, or at least honestly changing, and the roads ahead, and that ones left behind, are the building blocks of my new life; and I was excited. You know, once in a while during our life, things happen in greatness, or at least what we call greatness, and less than a handful of events such as this, have happened to me. Meeting my wife was the first, and certainly when meeting the Christ of God, but the reprimand given to me by God thru Paul was one of those moments that has internally changed my life forever, and ranks within the same group of special highlights of my days.\n\nJohn had already left us journeying south and west, and now Andrew had decided to go back towards Galilee. We'd discussed this in detail for the last couple of days, and he wanted me to go also, but I couldn't; for God had plans for me, and in no way was I going backwards. Writing letters, and giving him messages, everything was set for him and me to depart as friends, as well as brothers. Andrew was dear to me, and I knew that the rest of my journey was for me alone, and I was glad that he carried letters to the ones I'd left, and that, I could trust. We hugged, exchanged exhortations, and as the sun lifted to full view, we both began in our separate directions.\n\nJust writing the long letter to my wife made me feel close to her, for love has no boundaries, nor can distance hinder it, but in the letter, I could say things that only she could hear.\n\nI know not what awaits me as I travel to Philippi by way of Troas, but I do know that God reigns more abundantly from within me. My soul is now at rest, as I have given it to the Spirit that dwells in me, and that marriage alone, the soul and spirit, can bring nothing but peace.\n\nThe genesis of this journey, now beginning, will take three weeks, and that is if all goes well. I have been supplied, given maps, and been well versed on the terrain; and from Troas, there is still much farther to go; and with anticipation, and this new revelation, I'm looking forward to it. Now knowing that God punishes not, but loves his children, even with their faults, gives me a zeal for the road ahead and the plans that God has stored for me in this adventure. All self-pity has been put aside, for the flesh of Peter continues dying, I was now walking on the south side of a long mountain range that leads past the half-way point of this journey, and I am excited.\n\nThis path that I follow is wide enough for three men to walk abreast, at least in most places, but not nearly as traveled as the road that led from the south to Antioch. Since there was a far distance between these two cities, not many purchased its' path, I was for the most part, traveling alone, which suited me just fine. Many new thoughts and recollections traveled with me through my mind, which began again to take the form of the mind of Christ, and having this quiet time with just me, I also set an adventure within my heart that was sorely needed. I prayed, sang, and sometimes I'd dance, for with this new renaissance, I was regenerating with every step.\n\nThe first group of people I met was tired from their venture, for they had weeks of fumbling foot steps behind them and were now in a state of exhaustion, but very friendly. We sat and talked for an hour or two, and for the most part, talked about the road behind them, and its' relentless miles of nothingness. I think they thought me to be nuts, but said very little about it, and by the side-ways smiles of their faces, I could tell they were somewhat amused of my need to dance and rejoice, as I gave them the short version of the resurrected Christ. They listened, but not profusely, but then again, maybe a seed was planted.\n\nMiles lay ahead, and every one of them lay as a path within my heart to study to show myself approved, for God has already shown His approval. With each step I seemed to understand the approval in which all, which already has in God thru Christ, that is, in that event of that dreadful day of His crucifixion, has already been paid for by Him, and has been given to all. Love, and I mean the true and real kind of Love, conquers everything, every deed, every ill of man, but all that the religious leaders want to use to hold us to, and their misguided attempts to control man, are a far cry from it; we are free, and free indeed.\n\nAt an earlier point in my life, the confrontation from Paul would have felt inexcusable, but as it was, God had prepared me inwardly to receive it as a blessing, a true life changing event, a forum that I can now stand upon, for in truth, I was guilty. The guilt too, cannot, nor will not bring anything but growth, all things work together for good to those who Love the Lord, and Love Him I do.\n\nThe road, at times, was rugged, the scenery beautiful, the people met, well, let me say they were of a different breed but entertaining. The temperature just right, for I enjoyed every breath of air these lungs were filled with. And it had taken but thirteen days to reach Troas, my first real stop for these legs that just didn't seem to get tired in any way, and I was refreshed with energy as when the first day I'd left. I would meet people and some would pause long enough to chat awhile, but most were in a hurry for this road behind me was made for the determined and the business folks, for to travel it, one would most likely have to enjoy the solitude or be bored with the loneliness. For in that three hundred mile stretch, only every day or two would one walk by another traveler, and in most cases, it would be as one of those I just described. But being in Troas was quite different, as this was a seafaring town built right on the shore of the Great Sea, just south of the Straights of a lesser sea before it entered into the Black Sea, and in nowhere that these feet had taken me, had I seen such large and lavish ships.\n\nI'd made it to this first city of maritime in two days less than was told it would take, and had to take no immediate rest upon my arrival.\n\nIt was almost daily that some ship would enter port, or one would leave, for from here one could reach the far ends of the earth, or at least I believe, and had heard talk that ships sometimes sailed to Caesarea, just north and west of Jerusalem. \"What an easy way to travel\", was my first thought; but then again, look at what I would have missed.\n\nThe people here were friendly; most, I had something in common with, as far as being on boats, but the fish here were far different than those of my home sea, and the sailors, maybe a little tougher. But it took not an hour before meeting a man that looked as if he'd been raised by the sea, as tough as a rock, and very animated in his tales of the sea. We talked for hours, and some of the stories told might have been true, but for the most part, I think they were designed for entertainment, as this port served as his refuge and his deposit of seafaring rubbish that wasn't heard, or couldn't tell to the ones he sailed with. But I thought him a man of interest with the way the arms were used to express, sometimes in great detail, the whole of the story.\n\nTo say the least about this city by the sea, I was amused, sometimes saddened, but always anticipating something new around each corner or across the street that would hold my interest.\n\nI didn't stay in Troas but less than a week, seemed there were so many different kinds of gods that they couldn't understand, much less come together in and to separate one from the other, and had but little time to hear of our true and our living God; so I left.\n\nSailing on a ship that navigated northwest, a two day journey that weekly ferried folks to and from Neapolis, a town just south of Philippi, I was again feeling at home in my element. Now Philippi was cradled next to the mountains that ran close to the sea, but not in it, a far safer place for the folks of that area to plant themselves, for the mountains provided most of their protection, at least from storms. Things happened in that town, and some of them were life changing. I had a story to tell and at times people would gather to listen, and most of what I'd say had been heard before, so I guess God sent me to follow up and water, that which had already been planted. For the words of Jesus Christ was readily accepted; and many were eager to hear more, as I would sit, and sometimes walk among them preaching Him crucified, and resurrected.\n\nFor the next three years, what I did was; go where the Spirit led me, sometimes teaching, sometimes learning, for the Holy Spirit was continually working from within the marrow of my being. About the time that I'd think it was my turn to teach or preach, in reality, it would be my turn to learn, for God expressed Himself through diverse means, sometimes from within, but many times through statements made by the folks I thought were there to learn. In truth, I was there to learn. I was challenged in every corner of my life, for many times, again, I'd look for Him thru the front door, but God would slip in thru the back, it was always exciting to see what was next.\n\nAnyway, those three years were great. I traveled to just about every city and seaport of that region, and several times to the far away ones, once even going to Rome, but not for long stay. As God would move me from one village or town to the next, even the tent cities were not to be endured for long. I never did return back home, and several times I could send messages, but only twice received them. This was the reason I was born and tutored for, I'm convinced, and with all the many defects in me that had to be combed out, I now sense that I'm prepared for these days and those ahead.\n\nI met masses of folks during my trekking across more than a few countries, many different ethnic groups, several languages, countries of little people, and some villages of almost larger than life people, and no matter where I went, all seem to have their own particular ceremonies of another man-made god. These obstacles were what all the years of grooming were for, in the Spirit, nothing could detour me from that which I was sent for.\n\nAlthough most of the people were not affected by my Words of hope, but then again; many were. God's Spirit moved within and among every step I took, either healing them, or purifying me. What a great time and place to be alive.,\n\nLooking back to see Forward\n\nAfter many years of travel, and many trials and tribulations, and the aging of my body, I began to spend much more time alone, and when I say alone, I mean with just the Lord beside me. Spending weeks in the wilderness with the few birds and the many crawling creatures, I would look back in depth at the preparation God has made for me and those that would listen to His Word. The things taught by Jesus, remembered but not absorbed, began now to take root, especially the past hand full of years. I would go sometimes more than a month and not hear a human voice, it was just me and the flavors and sounds that God would lay at my feet, that was riveting me to His Truth.\n\nTimes were good in those days, and I guess it was the mellowing of my soul, and the marriage between the soul and spirit, that put me in tune with His Presence. Some days I would hear nothing, but on occasion, His revelations would come at me with an explosion of Truth, that at times thought I could not contain them and their beauty. I could remember, in detail, all that happened during those three years of walking with Jesus, the tone of His voice, the waving of His hand, and every syllable that proceeded from his mouth. And gradually as my mind and body slowed down, I was positioned to hear again for the first time. People have tendencies to organize, and institutionalize any and everything that they perceive as a foundation, and what was spoken by me, had nothing to do with religion, it was a way of Life, and founded on Truth. So He kept me traveling. And to break these barriers of religion in the folks met, were sometimes impossible, but on more than a hand full of times, they'd listen with their hearts. People's lives were changing, especially mine, and the warmth from seeing those changes was more fuel for the spirit than I'd ever imagined.\n\nOnce, I'd heard that Paul was imprisoned, and twice I was; but this is what comes with the territory of forwarding Gods' Kingdom; and I accepted it. If one bucks the system of their many gods, then the tendency is to attack those that they perceive to be a threat, and more than a couple of times, I escaped with only my life. But God was there with me through it all.\n\nThrough all the decades of my life, and the times that I managed to make enemies, and at times, that was often, I now look back to see that the only enemy that was ever begotten, was me. For of a truth, seeing now what I had done then, my antics of the flesh, and my reactions to others, were the only adversary that was truly beheld, it was all me. No, I'm not ashamed of these years of foolery, my past, just happy that they were caught now, rather than never, for growing up, to some, is not an everyday occurrence. And without this walk, I tremble to see the man that I could have made of myself, 'oh wretched man that I am,' but God through His mercy saw to put an end to that, or should I say me. For my flesh is dying.\n\nThose three years were wonderful in every way, the people met and the challenges of the different cultures were all accepted, as for this time, I was prepared for all that lied ahead. Most of my flesh had been burned off, and the real Peter, the one that God created from the beginning, was now being revealed, and I liked it.\n\nI'd missed my wife and the life that I'd left behind, but not to the point that regrets were apprehended. I loved, and still love my family back in Galilee, but the genuine folks met, and the Hope that is now raised in them, and me, was worth every day that was spent away, and by the message received from her, she felt the same....These were now my family.\n\nMy wife was not the kind to sit idle, for God spoke to her also, and with great might. Not only was she too learning, but was one to pass it on, and many others received the Grace and Mercy of God through her. We were on the same page. So in these 'old age' years, I am content to know that what is happening was engineered to happen, and neither of us would change a thing.\n\nMany a mass of people were met in these three years of my nomadic travels, and the migration of God's word was carried by and thru me, and several others that I know did the same. I would, at times, hear an exhortation about John or Andrew, and this too would ignite me to glorify God, for it was only for the purpose of His Kingdom that we were sent. Lowly and common men and women were used in this forwarding, and none had any particular talent to do so, but then looking quietly about this matter, God always seemed to use the simply things of life to confound the so-called wise. And it always amazed me to see how great of an effect God could raise through unrefined folks, that, in no obvious way, could be set apart from any other, but still stir such unusual miracles.\n\nMany people tried to mimic those that were anointed to spread this Gospel, and often would attempt to make money from it, but only those of a pure heart were used, and there were no gimmicks attached. How and why He uses me is still something I've yet discerned, but this I know; my heart yearns to know all I can know of this beautiful God that we serve. The things I've seen, the folks healed, the ones delivered from all diverse conditions, and just simply those that grow in the Truth of His Love, never ceases to astound me, and never was a step taken by these feet with regret.\n\n******************\n\nIt was mid-summer, I was either sixty-two or sixty three, my beard now matched the hair on my head, completely grey with the exception of my eye-brows, that now had a touch of the youthful black still remaining, and I sat under a Carob tree pondering. A scorpion played, or fought, whichever the case may be, with another of the same species, but twice his size, as I sat in the shade with no one for miles around me. I was in the area of Bithynia, some two day journey south of the Black Sea, where the climate was a little more tolerable, and grass was much more abundant from the plentiful rainfall of this region. It was obvious the smaller of the two fighting creatures, began this battle with his desire to keep what territory he possessed from being overtaken by the larger, and somewhat superior but clumsy other one, with his right claw missing. I watched this war between the two for a half hour, before my mind began to wander in the direction of the time that the twelve of us walked with Jesus.\n\nNone of us knew much of the scriptures, except of the stories told by our elders, and I think some of them were embellished a little, just for the factor of entertainment. We weren't very smart, but made up for it with our zeal, at least I, and I'm sure the others, wanted to know all that could be known about living this abundant Life that Jesus spoke about.\n\nHe'd teach and we would listen. The words were coming from our Christ, there meanings deep and solid, but my apprehension, and my comprehension of them were very limited, but all that was said was stored in the marrow of my spirit for later retrieval. So I sit here in this battle zone contemplating some of the goings-on of those days, and of their meanings that have slipped by me through the years.\n\nIf the Sabbath was to be kept Holy, why were so many of the deeds done, and places gone, so often done on that day? I studied this for years until seeing that of a truth, the Sabbath was made for man, and not man for the Sabbath, and the Son of man is Lord, even of the Sabbath, and then it came to me; Jesus is the Sabbath. Anyway, I sat those days under the shade of that Carob tree thinking of the things said and deeds done and gleaning what I could from those days of remarkable wonder. Maybe I sat a week, but then again, maybe it was two or three, the Spirit was flowing thru me, and all I did was relax in His presence, as He gave values to that which wasn't gained in those earlier years.\n\nHe'd talk of the scribes and Pharisees, and more than once called them vipers or hypocrites, and for years I had somewhat of a hate for them, but then realized that the Pharisee is inside of each of us, that desires to be seen, in which we all have. Those that want the attention of others, (look close inside and see we all do,) and to be recognized for our good works, the scribe wants to keep record of all of what we call, 'our own good deeds.' I came to realize that it's not the people we hate; it's usually the things they do that remind us of those same things in our own lives that we hate. Not always, but often, it's our own faults seen in someone else that is despised, and rather than to admit this, we only see the splinter in their eye, while having a log in our own.\n\nThe way I see it; Jesus never met a person He didn't love, whether they be a prostitute, a thug liken to Matthew, a thief liken unto Judas, someone sick or unclean in spirit, or maybe someone like Andrew and I that smelled of fish, He counted them all the same. The things these afore mentioned people did, was not even remotely close to that which was done by my actions and words, for only one of us did as I; deny Him, but I did it three times, which is completely inexcusable; but he still so dearly loved me. I'm not sure if there is any deed worse than denying Christ, not murder or theft, nor any such deed, but I did it, I did it completely, but I never loss favor in my Lords' heart. He loves us, because He Loves, not for who we are, or what we do, but because of creation. Nothing can separate any from the love of God.\n\nJesus can see past the flesh of man, and placed no emphasis on the carnal things of the flesh, save those that reflected the inner man of each. Did he hate the Pharisee? God forbid; it was that outward symbol of the inward work, that which desires the notoriety and praises of men, and wants to be seen, that His words came against. And not one of us are guiltless in this behavior.\n\nIt was not then, nor now, that Jesus spoke of the pharisee as other folks, and that of vipers, and the hypocrite that lives in those that still live in the flesh. For to walk in the Spirit is to put off that old man, letting him die, as those in the wilderness were forced to do, and then, and only then, can we cross that river Jordan, allowing Joshua, (meaning Jesus), to lead those children of God, and entered into the land of 'milk and honey', the Kingdom of God. This Kingdom, given to us by God, is not somewhere beyond the blue of our sky, but is, and now, available to all, all that will lay down his carnal life and follow the only Son worthy of praise.\n\nThe Words of our Lord, wrongly divided, will in most cases, speak to the unwise about the other guy, replacing the truer and deeper value that the parable represents, which is the inner being of ourselves. The flesh of man is rotten, inferior in its weakness, and has but greed and selfishness as its existence and will decipher meanings from the 'old man' in which it's made of. And for years, I too, thought in this manner of evaluations, as Simeon (myself), kept getting in the way of Peter, but as I began to get quiet, I then could hear as the Spirit gave me His utterance, and only then, did I begin to rightly divide His Word of Truth.\n\nTherefore, let us look back and remember those Words spoken by our Lord, when talking about the scribes and pharisees. \"The scribes and pharisees want to sit in Moses' seat, (Judging by the law). Therefore whatever they tell you to do, observe and do, but do not do in accordance to their works, (the flesh), for they say but do not do. For they bind heavy burdens, hard to bear, and lay them on other men's shoulder, (It is our flesh speaking), but they themselves will not move them with one of their fingers. But all their works they do to be seen by men. They make their phylacteries broad and enlarge the borders of their garments. They love the best places of the feast, and the best seats in their assemblies, greetings in the marketplaces, and to be called by a title. But you; do not be called by a title, nor any label of nobility; for One is the teacher, the Christ...\"\n\n\"But he that is greatest among you shall be your servant. And whosoever exalts himself, (again, speaking of the flesh of man), will be humbled, and he that humbles himself, (puts away the flesh), shall be exalted.\"\n\nThe flesh, or carnal state of man, can never bring glory to God, for that is something that I'd thought, and the world also, for the world gives to her own, and that being a facade of glory, but when the rains came, washed it away. But when the Spirit speaks or acts, it is to bring glory to the One that is worthy, Christ Jesus. Therefore, let us now continue in what the lord said, remembering His words about the pharisees, and that it is really speaking of the carnal, earthly, ways of man.\n\n\"But woe unto you scribes and pharisees, hypocrites! For you shut up the Kingdom of God against men, for you neither go in, nor do you allow those that are entering, to go in...And for a pretense, you make long prayer. Therefore you will,(your flesh) receive greater condemnation...You travel land and sea to win one conversion, and when he is won, you make him twice as much the son of flesh, as yourselves...For you pay tithe of mint...and have neglected the weightier.\" The weightier is that which is asked for, or given by the Holy Spirit. The flesh, above all things, is wretched and seeks its own, and can in no way be trusted with the oracles of God.\n\nNow, as we continue a little farther, let us endure to consider who the pharisee of each man is.\n\n\"Blind guides, who strain out the gnats and swallow a camel! Woe to you pharisee, hypocrite, for you cleanse the outside of the cup and dish, but inside they are full of extortions and self-indulgences...For you are like whitewashed tombs which indeed appear beautiful outwardly, but inside are full of dead bones and all uncleanness.\" Now look inside of yourself to see where this pertains.\n\nMuch time was given by our Lord as he expounded on this subject, and I believe it's because the tree of most of our troubles are rooted there. Again, if we think He's developing aught against the scribes and pharisees, and not see that it's the way men think as truth, then, it is a life lost to that reasoning. For He Himself is the Way, Truth, and Life, and no other door shall we enter, only by Him, and His Word. As we continue.\n\n\"Even so you also outwardly appear righteous to men, but inside are full of hypocrisy and lawlessness. Therefore, indeed, I send you prophets, wise men; some of them you will kill and crucify, and some of them you will scourge in your assemblies and persecute from city to city.\"\n\nAnyway, as I still sit under the shade of this Carob tree, still watching as the two scorpion's battle to obtain what they think is their right to be there, hoping the intruder is laid to rest by that which is right. For this small scene is what's got me to thinking about the war that goes on between the flesh and the Spirit. The pharisee in every man, wars against the Spirit, and the Spirit against the pharisee, the flesh, and as long as man thinks himself right and honorable in his own ways, he fails; then failure is all that can occur. The flesh will render all that it owns, but nothing in the flesh is more than filthy rags, except that of which the Spirit does thru it.\n\nThese last days of mine are not as eventful as in the days of old, but far more enlightening, and of greater pleasure; for the slower I go, the faster I get there.\n\nUnder the Shade\n\nIt has not rained in these few weeks of sitting under this same Carob tree, the sky cloudless, the temperature couldn't be better, and not a thought in my mind was sheltered from the Truth. The battle between the insect of claws and stingers, have long since played out, and the outcome not recognized, for in life, the one that owns, sometimes loses. Bigger doesn't necessarily mean better, and ownership doesn't necessarily mean the right to own. In this life, contained in the cosmos, stuff wasn't made to come to pass the way each thought it should, nor should it, for if we get what we want, what challenges are left? Those of us that see ourselves through an out-of-body experience; can look inwardly with objection and honesty, will understand that reaching beyond the known, moves us forward. It's not a matter of which scorpion won, it only matters what's done with the results, whether we think we lose or come out on top, matters none, but what can be done with what's left can, at times, changes a person's life forever. So I remain in this same place pondering on Life, and what God can use in it to teach me to live Life more abundantly.\n\nFor the things that I'd thought were good or right, seemed to have been the other way around, and that which I believed to be wrong or bad, seemed to have always taught me something that made a true inward change, again turning me around. For Jesus spoke, and spoke often, about the first being last; and the last were made to be first. This was a hard saying for me in those years preceding, and after His death, for this ideal was not taught before He was revealed, therefore, at times, when we think that all has been overcome, the Truth begins to expose itself with a completely different discloser.\n\nHe that tries saving his life; that is with his own efforts, will lose it, but those of us willing to lose our life for His sake, will then be shown the Truth in abundant living. I now see that that which I thought to be right, as in the time when I cut off the ear of the priest' servant, was what I thought, without considering what the Lord thought, and needless to say, what the servant thought. But was quickly shown the error of my ways, but gently, when wholeness was returned back to him by Jesus, with the exact opposite of the ramblings of my mind.\n\nMy heart was steered one way, and then at the same time, my mind another direction; and all this going on within me was accepted as normal, but when the teachings of Christ were revealed and accepted, and began to be mind placed in its' rightful position, then what was left was a cool drink from the stream, on a hot summer's day. It had seemed that the more I relaxed, the more the Truth began to be revealed.\n\nIt is now close to dark, as only a hint of gray hung over the haze that began to form in the valley below; and the understandings discovered within the quietness of my heart, flowed as if music resonated thru my spirit, I was at peace. Like David, my cup began to run over.\n\nI'll admit that in my younger years, and while admitting, just some few years back, I saw the parables and doings of Jesus from the outer view, and now can say with certainty; I had missed, back then, most of the deeper Truths. Seeing the pharisee within each man, that is ourselves, is not a harsh thing, but a fact; for none of us escape the fact that the flesh of man has no lasting value. And understanding that the flesh wants to be known, is superficial, even in its core, and cannot in any wise resist to be seen, except that Christ begins to rein, and that is not just some people, but all. For laying down our lives to follow Him, is then, to take that 'old man', the pharisee, sitting him aside and walking away from the selfish wants, while changing the way we think, and then following Him that is the only begotten Son of God, which we also are sons. Can the pharisee enter into the kingdom of God? The answer is no. For flesh and blood cannot enter, but since the will of the flesh will never be allowed, and as long as he prevails, we cannot in this life see the true value of His Kingdom. When our flesh dies, the pharisee goes with him, and only Spirit remains, but in this life, as long as the pharisee exits, we can only have existence, but without victory. The pharisee represents the man that cannot evolve into that which God has created all to be.\n\nLiken unto what we just spoke about; the parable of the ten virgins, is likewise of the same way of thinking, that is, changing our mind, (repenting), is one and the same, and must also be viewed from within. All these years, I was thinking it was about getting in, or, so-to-speak, missing the boat, but it too relates to the flesh that wars against the Spirit from within man.\n\nThere were ten virgins called for into a wedding, five foolish, and five wise, and even though this parable, when given to us by Jesus, has an earthly meaning, it was many years later before I began to understand the truer and deeper value of it, for the parable itself, was speaking to me, about me. It starts off as:\n\n\" _The Kingdom of heaven is likening to ten virgins who took their lamps and went out to meet the bridegroom. Now five of them were wise, and five were foolish.\"_ Let's me stop for a moment and point out that 'five' means the five senses of man, and it is evident that all ten were in their flesh, but five of them were consumed with it, foolish, that is, the flesh; and other five understood a deeper esoteric value that goes beyond the superficial, and called wise in the way they think, or see things.\n\n\" _Those who were foolish took their lamps and took no oil with them, but the wise took oil in their vessels with their lamps. But while the bridegroom was delayed, they all slumbered and slept. And at midnight a cry was heard: 'behold, the bridegroom is coming; go out and meet him!'_ Again I stop, mostly to show others the error of the way, that for more than a decade, I understood this the wrong way out, and in fact, didn't comprehend it at all until my life slowed down enough to begin to see a far more profound significance. The oil represents a valued substance, things of the Spirit, a deeper way of thinking and viewing the things of this world. The foolish took 'their lamps', (a means of light), that is; a desire to have a different way of viewing life, but did not take that of which makes it glow, (the oil), rendering it useless. All ten slept, and all heard the midnight call to come to the bridegroom, and since he was delayed, for whatever of the many reasons, five took not the time or willingness for preparation.\n\n_Then all those virgins arose and trimmed their lamps. And the foolish said unto the wise. Give us some of your oil, for our lamps are going out. But the wise answered saying; 'no, lest there be not enough for us and you, but go rather to those that sell, and buy for yourselves.'\"_ They all arose, and again, all wanted a better life, or more properly said; a deeper way of viewing life, so all ten trimmed their lamps, (the product of enlightening), but five made no progress in the development of the way they thought, so had no reference, no desire for insight. To light their lamps, just having only the lamp, which is worthless without that different way of understanding life, a deeper approach to its truer meanings; the oil, they were blind to follow in the darkness because of it.\n\n\" _And while they went to buy, the bridegroom came, and those that were ready went in with him to the wedding, and the door was shut. Afterwards, the other virgins came also, saying; Lord, Lord, open to us! But he answered and said: 'Assuredly, I say to you, I do not know you.'\"_ Look here, and see that which I'd also missed _._ First of all the five foolish was sent back to the world in which they were so much involved with, and were told to have them, the earthly way of thinking, to correct their problem, which it can't. And through some other means of thinking found what they thought was the invited wedding, but weren't allowed in because of that thinking. They viewed life from its outward form, worldly way of thinking, and had no inward revelation of the richness of the Spirit, and were told that only those that understand Truth are within; and so were rejected. Not because they weren't as special, God forbid, but because they possessed not the esoteric understanding of Truth, and entering in would be impossible, and even if they could, which they can't, would have zero knowledge of what was going on. Lacking the Spirit of Truth was a decision which was never ventured. The door was shut, but notice here, that the bridegroom didn't shut it, they shut it on themselves.\n\nWhen Jesus gave us this parable, and all the others, each of us acted as if they were understood, when in fact, they weren't, but retained in our hearts for the right display of meaning, or rather when we were able to grab a hold on them. In my early thirties I heard, in my mid-forties I began to develop into them, so I thought, but not until my late fifties did I truly apprehend each parable for what it truly was; a story about me.\n\nJohn and Matthew spent a lot of time discussing these stories of ancient language, and often attempted to divide them in the text of what a parable really is; and at times, I would join in, and discerning little, but I still kept them stored in my heart.\n\nSo every now and again, I would ponder on the values of such stories of old, the parables, and again thought them to be for their face value, and would often see a resemblance between those people talked about, and me, but could not put it together; that it was about me, until my life slowed down enough to listen. For intellectually I heard, and received little, but when heard thru the Spirit, it all began to make sense, for then that seed that was planted, germinated, initiated into growth, until its' sprout burst thru, that even in spite of the flesh, they grew through. For even in my mind, that is my earthly mind, had grasped this new and starling meaning of Life, and even now I see these values thru the dawning of a new day. Wonder what's left to behold?\n\nThere were days, and several of them, that we'd go to Jesus and asked why He would speak to us in parables, and He answered and said unto us: _\"Because it has been given unto you to know the mysteries of heaven, but them, others, it has not been given. For whosoever has, to him more will be given, and he will have abundance; but whoever does not have, even what he has will be taken from him. Therefore, I speak to them in parables, because seeing they do not see, and hearing they do not hear, nor do they understand. But blessed are your eyes for they see, and your ears for they hear; for assuredly, I say to you that many prophets and righteous men desired to see what you see, and did not see...\"_\n\nBack then, the time I was listening, he said that I was hearing and seeing, but of a truth, I had little knowledge of what was being spoken, and at that time; knowing Him, I believed it to be true, with little knowledge of the teachings; and thinking Him, I was to be in error, but instead, these sayings, in spite of my thinking, were being hid in my heart, and Jesus knew it. I was being blessed, even without the understanding of being blessed, sometimes I wish that He was still here so I could thank Him, and then I realize; He is.\n\nAgain looking at the parable of the sower, once again, in these later years, I seized the deeper meaning of the true value of what was really being said. I'd like to take a look at it from a different prospective than what I once heard a man, calling himself a preacher, stand before a crowd and disseminate countless hours about. I had met this particular man several times earlier, and knew him to sell himself, or rather the Gospel, for profit, a profound clairvoyant. In one event, as walking close to his quarters, I saw and heard him rehearsing to the wind his next day sermon, shaping each word to look as if what was being preached about, was true, but in fact, when God gives, the words come as if natural from the Spirit. Anyway, I'd like to look at this parable of the sower with the prospective of what God has been teaching me, and maybe see if I can shed a little light from a different angle.\n\nJesus spoke as us twelve were gathered listening, and, at the time, not fully understanding, but again storing, waiting on His later guidance. _\"Behold, a sower went out to sow (seed), and as he sowed, some fell by the wayside, and the birds came and devoured them. Some fell on stony places, where they did not have much earth; and they immediately sprang up because they had no depth of earth. But when the sun was up they were scorched, and because they had no root they withered away. And some fell among thorns, and the thorns sprang up and choke them. But others fell on good ground and yielded a crop, some a hundredfold, some sixty, and some thirty. He who has ears to hear, let him hear.\"_\n\nTo hear this parable, and to understand it as a farmer sowing seed, has but little value, and probably, in itself, as of how to plant, was not something that Jesus was concerned about. So as I began to think on this, a new revelation initiated new growth in me. And besides, the word seed was never mentioned by Him. My idea was; if Jesus spoke about it, the words were worth listening to, for idle talk was not something He did. That meant to me, at least in my way of consideration, that since most of all that was spoken by Him was in the forwarding of the Kingdom of God, or you could say, the Kingdom of Heaven - the same thing; I would listen.\n\nBy-the-way, what I've seen in my study of the parables has not been rehearsed, nor do I speak to the sky, but instead, this is the very thing talked about wherever I go, and at times, sometimes often; folks understood.\n\nLet me establish that this and the other parables were about the Kingdom that God has set into place, not necessarily for the life beyond, but as life now, as He establishes His Kingdom in each for our walk on this earth.\n\nAs previously mentioned, Jesus told us, when asked, that parables were given so those that sought the Truth and would hear, leaving all others to only hear the surface, and in the above parable He authenticates this to all by giving its' interpretation.\n\n\" _Therefore hear the parable of the sower: When anyone hears the word of the Kingdom, and does not understand it, then the wicked one comes and snatches it away what was sown in his heart. This is he that received seed by the wayside. But he who received seed on stony places, this is he who hears the word and immediately receives it with joy; yet he has no root in himself, but endures only for a while. For when tribulation or persecution arises because of the word, immediately he stumbles. Now he who received seed among thorns is he who hears the word, but the cares of this world and the deceitfulness of riches choke the word, and he becomes unfruitful. But he who receives seed on good ground is he who hears the word and understands it, who indeed bears fruit and produces some a hundred, some sixty, some thirty._\n\nWhether it is rocky ground, thorns, or even the wayside, I see different aspects of the same man, different emotional and physical properties that man, either of himself or through his environment, has been placed in him thru this world of attitudes and viewpoints. A part of man, which is given by God as natural, wants to hear that which He is speaking, and so hungers for His voice, but when heard, is easily overridden by the wickedness and doubts of this world.\n\nThe man whose ears and heart are of stony ground, readily hears Gods' Word and immediately receives It with joy, but has no depth in his heart because the fears and worries, or even the opinions from others, stumbles by the never ending, unrelentless darts that are thrown by this world and its problems. Although stone is use as a foundation, and at times, these tribulations can bring about change, it is also resistant to weathering with its hardness, and some say coldness. This particular part of man has no room to set roots, therefore rises quickly, and withers just as rapidly.\n\nThe cares of this world and all that it persuades to offer is represented by the thorns; for the sacrifice the world asks for is at the expense of merited living, and will never suffice. The riches that one seeks need not be extravagant, for it the seeking that debilitates, and thus causing a belief in the world's deceitfulness, again choking out God's Word with its' lies.\n\nAlthough God is a jealous God, he chooses not to compete with the world that is called enmity, and does not reveal His mysteries to those that choose otherwise. Therefore, whether His seed fell on the wayside, stones, or among our thorns, Gods' secrets will not be revealed until we turn from the old man that lives within our flesh, and then back to Him, from whence we came.\n\nEach child, man, or woman, is created in the image of God, in His similitude, and have been given, what has been described; good ground, and therefore worthy to turn back to that right to obtain all of His formulation since creation, the right to be called the sons of God. That part of man, the part not involved in their flesh, who can hear His Word and indeed bear fruit and, produce after our own kind. We then have root in ourselves that produce fruit that remains; good ground. There are four different types of ground represented here, all of the same man; may it be you or me, that expose itself at one time or another, but the harmony of the 'good ground' is that place where man and God are one.\n\nAs long as man lives in his flesh, and caters to it, and allows its selfish desires to be attended too, we therefore are living under the rules of the flesh, and this will always fall under one of the categories of wayside, stony, or thorny ground. But when that which is sown falls upon our 'good ground', it is received with joy and understanding that remains.\nEvery man born; was born to walk with God, and even those that forsake Him, or even desecrate Him, have the same void, the same emptiness, the same loneliness that yearns to be one with Him, and searches, and at times unwillingly searches, for the same reconciliation with the God that created us. We are His children, and, somewhere or sometime, every knee will bow, and every tongue will confess that Jesus is the Christ and Lord of all.\n\nSo I say, that whether it be of thorny ground, or rocky ground, or even the wayside of our lives, if we understand these different aspects of our lives, we are then positioned to find our good ground with reconciliation, and are much more able to allow his Word to fall upon that already fertile garden of our being.\n\nA person doesn't have to have an expanded knowledge of the things of God, nor does he have to hear from Him daily to be prepared 'good ground', but he does have to turn loose of this world and the smokescreen of what it pretends to offer, and have an inward yearning for the things of God; His seed.\n\nJesus said that the Kingdom of God is in our heart. Not out yonder, but here within the living man. Those that ask, seek, and knock upon His door; revelations begin to flow.\n\nWhere did my Life go?\n\nI must have sat under that Carob tree for three weeks, it could have been four or five, how long, I really don't know; and the weather must have been pleasant, for if not, I probably would have remembered. I was thinking and pondering on all that went on and happened in those days while I was face to face with the Lord. For it was not often that He didn't sit, or stand, teaching and expounding the things of God, and being young and dumb, I understood little. But thru the decades of assessment of this-or-that, and the things taught, I slowly began to catch the meanings of much of what was said. For back then, my head were filled with idleness, and at times laziness in hearing His words, but Jesus remained stable and steadfast concerning the words and deeds of God. What a beautiful experience it was being with Him.\n\nOn this particular day I awoke from what seemed to be sleep, but who knows, it could have been an abstraction, and looking towards the setting sun, I could make out a shimmering herd of various beasts of different kinds, crawling creatures were near my feet, and a small swarm of flying insects pestered my head. I had been asleep for hours, maybe days, for my body was rested and my hunger was great, and had some sense of revelation about what all my life was meant for. And could now see that all that had happened, and that that I'd done was for a reason, a purpose; for I was being groomed to carry forth God's Word and His Presence throughout the travels that were also destined for me; or was it just for my personal knowledge?\n\nIt came to me, as I methodically rose from my vantage point that everything has a purpose, a point; a point that works together for those that just plain and simply love the Lord, and now that I've learned how, I do.\n\nThis day, or maybe I should say evening, was one of those special days that one receives just before an event happens, a feeling, a perception, and whether it be pleasant or not so agreeable to my flesh, only the coming hours will tell. As I looked across the narrow valley, I watched as the shimmers of the last heat escaped from the hot sand and sparse grass beneath it, the sun in its final stages of the day, but I was listening, awaiting instructions. Across the valley and probably on this side of the adjacent mountain, I heard a roar, with its deep reverberations echoing several times as it bounce from one hill to another and evidently back again. A sound that was unfamiliar to me, but by the low pitch, could easily tell that I was thankful that whatever made those sounds wasn't any closer.\n\nIt got me to thinking; why in this world would I now, at this old age of my life, be scared? Why would I spend even a minute in fear, even if I were still young it shouldn't matter, and at my age, knowing that God is my provider, any fear made no sense to me? Then as my concern subsided, I noticed it to be just another reminder of how much I've allowed my flesh to control.\n\nJesus had told me many decades ago, after His resurrection, that when I was young, I could gird myself and go where I wanted, but when I become old, I will stretch forth my hands, and another will gird me and carry me where I do not wish to go. I knew this to be true, but had no understanding of what it actually meant, and on this particular day studied to make sense of it. And as the sky turned from aqua-blue to an orange/red, I continued watching this mass of animals and creeping varmints do what I guess they do best, survive, the sound of the roar still ringing thru my head; I sat quietly, listening for that familiar Voice that always comforts me. Before Gods' voice was heard, I became completely relaxed and no longer gave thought to the latter event, but instead chuckled at myself for how much of the past I allowed to remain. Having accumulated no wood for a fire, and the soon-to-be night becoming cool, I hurried about to make the nights' provisions, but in my continued tranquil demeanor.\n\nAgain, it got me to thinking; how could I waste so much of my life fretting over the selfish wants of the flesh, the lesser things of life, and not have focused on that which is true and forever? This wasn't a bad feeling, no, not by a long shot, but instead very comical, even to the point that I laughed out-loud. Not just me, but virtually everyone pursues the silliness of this life, giving little thought to our real Life, that which, God has placed inside with abundance. Our natural life is a stopping place, a place for preparedness, important to a point but temporal in every aspect, and it seems that our addiction to it, this world, has caused many to stray from the complete peace and joy that each was created for. How much more silly could we have been? But I too continued to struggle with these issues from time-to-time.\n\nThese pests that earlier buzzed my head, or the stingy creatures crawling on my feet, are but reminders that tribulation, the true and real kind, are but what makes us grow, or defeats us again back to where we already are. Everything is but an opportunity, a privilege, a subtle notice to remind us that the world is enmity to God, therefore, also us, and that which lies ahead for those that follow the Spirit could be much worst, or better, whichever the case may be, but darn-well worth the journey He gives us.\n\nOn more than several occasions Jesus spoke about fire. Now fire can kill and do great damage, and many fear its existence, but on the other hand; fire is used to create life, and for that matter, save life. I've seen fields ablaze to great heights with fire, and heard many moan about its course, but in almost every instance the grasses and brush return in greater abundance. But when Jesus spoke about being tried as with fire, I now realize that that is a virtuous thing. And to purify gold, it must be tried by fire three times before reaching its purity, and worthy to have value. Therefore, when tribulations come our way, fire, one can do as I did in my youth, deny; but now we are the children of God, and trials are sent our way as preparations, as uneasy events to bring those that seek Him, to become rearranged for His use.\n\nTroubles are not necessarily happenstance, but sent by God to purify us to be fit for His use, and should be welcomed as a privilege. If all things work together for good to those that love the Lord; then does not tribulations fall under the category of things, therefore being good? Of course; then unlike my past, they should be treated as a blessing, of which it is. Most of my life was spent groaning over stuff that wouldn't even be remembered the next generation forward, and because of my immaturity, I'd belly-ache to anyone that would listen; I speak this to my shame.\n\nThe benefits of trials and tribulations can far exceed those that this world calls a blessing, and should be received in that sense, for what the world calls 'good', can bring one involved in it, to a temporary ecstatic state, and is short-lived; but to the children of God, we can receive each and every affair, whether 'good' or 'bad' as a course to travel by looking only at God. The moaning and groaning then fade into space.\n\nJesus told us that; he that is persecuted for His sake, is happy, and again, to rejoice in your many trials and tribulations, and again, to bless our enemy, pray for him, and to prepare a meal for him. Does this, the things the world call 'bad', sound like troubles; only on the outside of mans' flesh, for inwardly we are His children and being readied for His service?\n\nIn Antioch, I once heard Paul say that his flesh was as filthy rags, and that he counted it gain to be persecuted.\n\nAnyway, as I sat looking at the zillion stars cross the night sky, this was what was on my mind, and on more than a few occasions caught myself talking to them about this matter.\n\nUh Oh\n\nThe next morning as I rose from my bed-roll, it was not quite light as of yet, and could see that the moon a risen during the night and was now straight over my head. Once during my slumber, I'd thought that sounds were heard of sheep and the bugle call of a camel, but now that I stand here watching and listening, all is quiet. I didn't need a fire on this morning, the air had a hint of raspy cool to it, but not to bring a chill, but I stoked what few red embers that remained back into a small but still welcomed friend. Some hour later, the sky had turned this beautiful red color, streaked with hints of yellows and greens, just as the sun crested the hills to my east. In my sailing days this was a sign of a storm to come, but in this area, very little rain ever fell, so I shrugged it off while sitting for those minutes until all the beauty faded into oblivion.\n\nI'd been thinking, these last few days, that maybe my final journey would be in the direction of my home in Galilee. It's been years since my presence was there, and a reunion with my wife and friends would be a welcomed relief, not saying that I regret this trip in any way, but I'm sure that being there would be pleasant.\n\nI'd been up and about for some few hours, when the same sounds that rattled through the valley, or so I thought, during last night were heard again. Walking slightly north, topping a small crest of sand, I could now see a party of travelers encamped along a flat, at the bottom of the opposite hill, just as it transitioned from valley to steep hillside. It was no small group, having segregated animal on just about every side, a string of camels east, a small but healthy herd of goats half way down, and donkeys mixed with sheep on the western side. They must have been still sleeping, for only a trickle of activity could be seen, and this was probably because they traveled up into the tiny hours of the night.\n\nAn hour or so later, I walked back over the same dune for another look-see, and could then see much bustle within and about their camp, and at least a half dozen fires were observed by the smoke that was rising straight up. As I stood there watching, one of the older men saw my silhouette and motioned me to come and join them, which I did.\n\nI sat around his fire as this man with soft features told of what they were doing, how the trip started, from where, and talked about family at the end of their destination. Often someone would come and introduce himself and have a friendly word to say, and it took only a short time before an offering of food was sat before me. We had a slight language barrier, but both of us could understand just a little of what the other said, at least we could communicate, if only in fragments.\n\nThis was a friendly group of folks, made up mostly of a few families, and all were related to some degree, and no harshness could be seen among any.\n\nBy this time, I'd decided to put off my journey towards home until daybreak the next day.\n\nI asked a lot of questions, and they seemed to be relaxed in answering them. All were Jews, from the sect of Sadducees, and lived by the rigid standards of the law. Observing every custom by the letter for which it was made for, the washing of hands, the circular motion done with their hands, as if presenting the food they were about to eat, unto God; and the long and loud prayers that all seemed to be involved in.\n\nHe told me about a radical group, that in Antioch, called themselves christains, and to him, were seemingly taking over the world. I just listened. There was a great scurry of noise broadcast throughout, to hunt down and destroy each and every one of them, and many groups were organized to do just that. In fact, it took but a short time before hearing that a bounty had been set on the capture of each, and if it were an Apostle, it would be tripled.\n\nNow I'm just sitting here listening, and I think that anyone could visualize what was going through my head. My first thought was trying to find a means of escape, my second was to present myself as someone else, but my third thought was to be honest, and thankful to be what God created me to be, and hide nothing, and then let God be in complete control.\n\nWe talked for an hour or so longer, for to get up and leave abruptly would not have sat well, and as I stood to stretch, began saying my good-byes, and taking a step toward my camp, a man stopped me, that was fluent in my same language.\n\n\"Now, I've told you much about our group, but you've said nothing about yourself. Sit again, and let's talk more.\"\n\nMy mind went back to those two scorpions, each trying to maintain his 'thought-to-be' territory, and then remembered the evasiveness that Paul talked to me about, then the dream on the roof of Cornelius' house, and finally the thought that came after the complete denial of knowing Jesus Christ before His crucifixion. It was not the Jews that were my enemy, then, nor now, and that mishap was not to be spoiled thru me again, and my thought now was; what a privilege it is to be counted among those that love the Lord, and Him being the true son of God.\n\nI turned back around, smiled and said it would be my pleasure to sit a while longer. By this time, this hour or so of our back and forth conversation, several others of the numbered men sat with us, and no one but me had a hint of what might take place in the next few minutes. All had smiles, and a relaxed demeanor, and I supposed understood me to be just another traveler.\n\n\"My name is Simeon, surnamed Peter, from the region of Galilee, a fisherman by trade, and my excursion in life has been long and at times hard, but worth every step and trial of it.\"\n\n\"When I was a young man, and hadn't been married long, my thoughts of worth began to bother me, and being raised a Jew, sought council with God after many days, if not months, of prayer. And after a hard nights labor of fishing, my brother, a friend and his brother, pulled close to the shore, and busied about my affairs, heard a voice from the nearby coastline, saying; \"Simon, put down your nets and follow me.\" And immediately, I did just that. And looking Him directly in His countenance asked; 'and what shall we do Lord? And he said; change the world.\" Looking at each, one-by-one, in the eye as I spoke, they listened.\n\nThus far, they seemed to relax further into their quiet and attentive mode, with smiles expressed, and interest in my words displayed, but not a word was spoken by them as they listened.\n\n\"I had never heard this voice before, a stranger to me, but knew Him from within, that this man was worthy of obeying.\" I continued speaking, as each one of the men looked upon me with interest. \"Not me only, but all four of us dropped that which we were doing and went to investigate this man of Authority. It rang within me, at the time, I think by the Spirit of God to put down my troubles, my worldly possessions, and turn loose of all, to be fed by this man of conviction.\"\n\nBy this time, with unison, all four of these men leaned forward with brow together, and their chin pointed directly at me, but still saying nothing. There was no evidence of a change in their demeanor, but it was easy to tell that their interest was climaxed.\n\n\"It was not many days thereafter that I completely understood that this decision to follow Him, and to cease from my labors, was exactly what was ordered for me, on behalf of God. The days, months, and years to come, wonderful things were seen and heard by this man, and even if given a choice, would not have returned to the smelly and fruitless life that I was living. And with one exception, there was never regret; for the way I now see, and the way I now receive the separation from this world and the One sat before us, is in no manner, a life to go back too. I was then, and still am today, engaged in the Life He has given. I am swelling at the seams to carry that, which has been sat before me.\"\n\nI was, in no wise, trying to deceive them in any way, but purposely held back the name of Jesus to perplex them into maybe understanding the principles of my evaluation of Christ. But these were hardened by their religion, and probably like most, abided by their strict standard of obedience to the law.\n\n\"There was never a man that spoke, that spoke with the God given Authority that this man conveyed. He had no idle words to say.\"\n\nBy this time their brow came completely together, their eyes wide open, and now in a half sitting, half kneeling position, as if to pounce upon something, but still refrained themselves. I think they understood what I was saying, but an element of doubt stayed them for the time-being.\n\n\"This man made the weak strong, the strong weak, and healed a diverse number of the halt to stand upright and walk. He penetrated into the marrow of man, and recreated him into the knowledge of the living God. His life was set apart for the inward health of all mankind, and of a Truth, sent by the same God that you and I claim to follow.\"\n\n\"Who is this man that you speak of?\" One completely rose to his feet and said. \"What kind of man could do what you say he's done, and not have been announced to the whole world?\"\n\nI began slowly to speak, as I didn't want a single word to be misconceived. I now realized that for this purpose was I sent. \"He hid from nobody, He spake openly, for those that had ears to hear, heard, but those that shut up their bowls heard nothing, nor will they now.\"\n\nAt the reverberation of this; all four were on their feet, and even though they held back, were now in the attack mode. Faces were turning red, hands shaking as if in a readied position, their feet shuffling as if they could no longer maintain themselves, but still held back.\n\n\"Who is this man that you speak of, and in the name of God, who are you?\" The tallest among the bunch asked.\n\n\"I told you before; my name is Simon, surnamed Peter by the Lord of Host, and at one time, many years ago, I denied Him completely, that is three times, but now, I'd rather live with Him, or die with Him than turn my back around even once. God had given Him the authority to forgive sin, and my entire life; at this point and time, I was missing the mark. I am that Apostle that many were told to capture, and I stand before you a humbled man wanting nothing else but to please Him that created me. I am now your servant, for if by serving you, I serve the Lord, you can now do to me as you see fit.\"\n\nThe whole lot of them relaxed slightly as I spoke these latter words; but still, three of them approached to retain my body to their order, while one went to secure a thong of leather to tie me from behind. Even having been bound, I don't ever remember being in so much peace, a release of sweetness overflowed throughout my entire being, and I freely went with them.\n\nThe days to come were anything but quiet, as meeting after meetings were held within eyeshot, but little could be heard. At first the interrogations were short and to the point, but as the days turned to weeks, the intensity of the examinations became louder and more brutal, but the peace remained within me. One of the men, the leader I presume, appeared more like a statue with his firm jaw tightly bound and twisted, his movements slow but precise, and said very little to me, but often whispered what I think was a command to the others, as we traveled by day to who knows where.\n\nI had little idea of where I was being taken too, but the direction was noticed daily as a northwest course, the sun was warm, and so was my heart as we traveled some fifteen or so mile each day. The women seemed uninvolved with the actions of my capture, and ever-so-often a young recruit would pretend to examine the character of my being, only to find, at least to my discernment, a man of no threat.\n\nThere was no desecration in me towards them, only a Love that seldom ever developed in me before, except on rare occasion, poured from the real being of the Peter that was hidden for all these years. I didn't really pity them, but maintained a hope that the illumination of Christ would show through, that they too would respond to Him, but none of this was ever realized. Their position was firm, and rigidity was upheld by the high standard that man had invented as law, and then placed in their religion. Those of that sect didn't follow the teachings of God, but only proclaimed their righteousness outwardly with their stern set of rules and regulations. These men were no different, and would rather please those of their authority, and be seen, than that which God had sat in force, which I now understand to be Love.\n\nThe small tent that I was placed in was kept guarded by night; and by day, and as we traveled; many eyes were upon me while still bound, but a joy continued rising within me that could not be expressed by my limited vocabulary, but I can say that the seed growing in the heart of my heart, was an experience, that thru the years of my fumbling, was now achieved thru an unlikely situation; but welcomed. I was at peace. Some mechanism evidently was triggered in me that instantly placed in order much of what life was meant to be, or at least, to achieve. Many of the happenings of the past began falling into place, arranging themselves in a distinct pattern of my total reconciliation to the Lord, those failures of the days gone by, now seemed to work for good. I have stumbled often during the course of my life, especially in my youth, but even those were being rearranged to lift in my spirit a character that wasn't known to exist, or at least I'd never realized it. This time, nothing of my personality was showing its face; only the works of the Spirit of Christ poured from the pores of this old man.\n\nOn occasion, a sympathetic observer would come by and want to uplift me to some degree, thinking the obvious peaceful disposition was of my integrity, and not knowing that it was the Christ that lived in me. Then at times, others would either pass to gawk or have some sly remark to say; but all-in-all, this was no lowly bunch of folks with bad character, but just a zealous group doing what they've been taught by their religious sect. I did not use the Love that swelled in me in any way, nor was it flaunted, so at every circumstance, I would have thought that Christ could be seen flowing thru me, but instead, the bondage of their prejudice held them from it.\n\nThis Love that I now felt and received was larger than man himself can conjure, for it was not me that Loved, but He that lived within, and it could no more be dammed up than one could dam the ocean. For the Love expressed itself from the essence of what it is, pure and unmovable. Jesus had told us on several occasions that the Love of God conquers everything, and holds no remorse, and in no way is haughty, and this Love in me was just that. Being filled with this entity was not something that I earned nor deserved, and when it was perceived, changed my life, even without me knowing the change happened. I now know that Love, Mercy, and Grace never needs to be propped up, for it is Life in the deepest of meanings, and sustains itself with no effort of man, and is truly the character of God.\n\n*************************\n\nIt was sometime later that I was taken to a rather large city, displayed in a cage before all, and several days later placed in a dungeon. The Peace and the Love for these folks never left me, and their understanding of what they were doing was never realized, they saw me as a threat, of which I was not, and therefore treated as a malefactor.\n\nWhat a true privilege it was for being alive in Christ, and His Love for all. This Love, that now dwells in me, is conquering every fault and defect that it took those almost sixty years to build.\n\nReflections\n\nTwo weeks later, still in the same dungeon, not alone, but as of yet have not seen, but only heard those that were incarcerated with me in this almost blackened place of underground real-estate, and at every turn of events, I found space to rejoice.\n\nThe almost daily beatings, for the most part, have stopped, and still not having met any of the other inmates, but speaking often with them, we began building a repertoire of friendships. Each man classified a criminal, but having done nothing that could separate any from the Love of God. Sometimes we'd sing together, sometimes pray, but always did we talk, and on many occasions, at length.\n\nAfter many months of interrogations, and now understanding that I was not to bow to their set of self-made rules, the elders assigned a young scribe to do that which they couldn't, that is break me to their will. He was to relentlessly harass and agitate me until, supposedly, I began to see their point of view, and submit myself to their idea of godliness.\n\nHis name was Jereriah, not much older than I was when asked by Jesus to go fishing for men. A well-mannered youth with very little knowledge of scripture, but made up for it in his willingness to please those that sent him. The first day we met, who knows, it could have night, it was a rainy one, for when it rained, water would trickle down the walls and fill the stone floor with ankle deep moisture, making for a very uncomfortable experience. He'd brought me food that was better prepared than that of the last few months, and appeared polite in every way, but had a determine look about him, as it was apparent that a mission was to be accomplished. But I sure didn't think that the task assigned to him was of his nature, and I'm not really sure that Jereriah even understood just what his commission was to incur. And from the other stand-point; they didn't know that he didn't know.\n\nWe talked for hours, mostly just the introduction stuff, with each trying to gain a feel about the other. He was raised a Jew, from the tribe of Benjamin, and lived, his only few decades, within the city that we both now presided. When he talked, there was firmness about his demeanor that just didn't quite add up, acting as if this goal was to be conquered by a rigid rough attitude. But we talked, and day after day Jereriah would arrive carrying that same brashness to his approach of my conversion, wanting only to please those above him, and, I think, make a name for himself.\n\nThrough the first year of this adventure with Jereriah we learned of each other's little quirks, and we began to grow fond of the one that so much time was spent with, at least I did him. Even though his attempt to hide his true personality behind the stern facial expressions, and with the tone of voice, I could easily tell that he was a man of mixed feelings about my stay in this dark hole. For once in a while his friendliness would creep out to exact his true nature, I really liked this boy.\n\nJereriah's interest in me, and the things that I said, began penetrating within him, as more and more questions were asked; and them edging towards the things I knew about the Lord. He'd ask about Jesus, how He saw things, about His temperament, about the folks healed, about the meanings of the parables, and mostly about the general stuff that one would like to know if there was a genuine interest in them. We'd talk for hours, and as the weeks ran into another one, the conversation evolved more and more toward the things of God, and Him personified. The questions asked became extensively deepened as each was expounded on, and the perception received.\n\nJereriah was a man much like me, especially in my youth. When about his age, I too grew up around the temple and the synagogues, understanding little, but doubtful about much. He knew his obedience toward the law was required by family and those that surrounded him, and gave little thought otherwise, except in secret. And at this point, I think, he began to question the ideologies and rituals of that certain religion, even before we met, but having had so many of his impressionable years given to it, knew of no other course to take. He did what was expected of him. Anyway, Jereriah's interest in this new-found Gospel intrigued him in every way, hitting home on many of the questions and answers that the past so many years of evaluating, created.\n\nWithin the first three or four months, I'd told him that more time was spent either talking with him or interceding for him, than all the time put together that I'd spent with my wife.\n\nHis response was; \"not all marriages were meant to be, and I'm sorry that yours didn't work out.\"\n\nI looked at him, smiled, and proceeded to tell him how much love and tenderness that my marriage had brought to the both of us. \"If not for her love toward me, and the concern and affection she showed, my life might have been in a place that I shudder to imagine. And when meeting Jesus; and her knowing the emptiness that I felt about life otherwise, her love encouraged me to find that missing link of Life, a decision neither her, nor I ever regretted. I have so much love for that woman, at times, it's hard to contain, and her for me.\"\n\nJereriah smiled back, reaching for my hands, grasping them tightly, breathed a sigh of relief, and said; \"thank you.\"\n\nWe both just sat there with no words spoken, both soaking in the ambiance of the love spoken about, and seeing, thru my eyes, a man melting into a dimension never ventured. It was at first hard for him to understand that my walk with Jesus, whether Him being on earth, or Him living within, was worth every effort of sacrifice either was to endure. He just couldn't stop smiling.\n\nThis pause must have lasted for close to an hour, and as he stood to leave, only the two small words spoken, still smiling and relaxed in every muscle of the body, Jereriah left with that loudness of silence.\n\n************************\n\nOver the next year or so, Jereriah, still assigned to me as an interrogator; and we spent must time together, almost on a daily basis, and became the closest of friends. As I watched him, and he watching me, we both could see in the other that our lives were changing, for his so-called daily cross-examinations of me turned into a profound fellowship of friends. His heart was enlightened with the radiance of Christ; that which was taught from his youth vaporized into the oblivion, and I also began seeing those fumbles of my early immaturity, as now seen, as the path that I had to take and learn from. I was learning, and so was he.\n\nThe dungeon was dark, and without the one torch that hung on the wall thirty feet away, there would have been no light at all. At night, which would never have been noticed, I was alone, except for the sounds of other prisoners long past my viewpoint, and at day, Jereriah was always there. The only way to ascertain my days from the nights was my friend's morning arrivals, and by this everyday occurrence, it was quite easy to maintain stability. Each night the torch would burn out, but each morning my new-found acquaintance would refurbish it with a new one.\n\nThe knowledge I gained from the quiet of night, and the conversations by day, regenerated the seeds planted by Christ, and I continued to grow. I never would have known the deep effect of the teachings of Jesus without this solitude that gave me time to evaluate. The questions asked by Jereriah caused me to dig deep for the truth of an honest answer, therefore creating growth in me thru His wisdom, which was a welcomed and appreciated alternative of even that which was accumulated under that Carob tree.\n\nThe next morning, still pitch black, I heard the familiar footsteps of Jereriah's approach, and then the fresh light from the new torch, as the same pleasant face made itself clear. Each night he seemed to measure up more question as his interest in Christ grew. And on this particular day wanted to know what was meant when I said; \"by His stripes you are healed.\"\n\n\"Friend and fellow disciple, this answer has two meanings, and each has its great value. For by the so-called punishment given to Jesus by the Romans, and the great suffering He endured, and doing so in our place, we are healed, no longer accountable for our past. Also, just being in this prison is another example, and some would say that being here is punishment, but of a truth, it is not. Often in this walk of life we stray from one mishap or calamity to another, and something is programmed in our life that effects our walk with Christ, and as many as God loves, He chastises. And His blessing upon us is often thru that chastisement, therefore His stripes given to me, or let me say, imprisonment upon me, is exactly what it took to open my eyes to the thorough nature of Gods' Love. For without this stripe I would not have understood the complete nature of man, or the complete nature of Christ living in me, which is, by-far richer than that of the former mentioned. Therefore this stripe of my arrest, and this dungeon has created a bloom of Love that will produce seed after its own kind, and has lifted me to a level never thought to be achieved.\"\n\nThe soft spoken man listening to my answer, simply said: \"Wow.\"\n\nJereriah was hungry for the Word, and it was evident by his actions; and purpose was given to him by the power received each time understanding was apprehended. Looking at him, as he studied every spoken syllable, as he watched me, was like flashing back to the memories of me. More important than his collection of what was being said, and the comprehension of it, was the eagerness, and willingness, to absorb every nugget that could be had. For it was the Christ that Jereriah was hearing, and occasionally it came from my voice.\n\nI believe thru the course of the year, Jereriah listened to every event, from me, that took place while, myself, and the other twelve disciples, walked daily with Jesus, but now, thru all the stories, slowly began to understand that walking with Jesus in the now, is much more effectual than when we, seeing Him face-to-face, ever obtained. At first this was hard to grab hold to, but now, through a personal relationship with Christ, it was becoming more and more vivid to him, and his eyes were beginning to open even more.\n\nWhat a thrill it was to watch this young man grow in the Wisdom of the Lord. I believe every recollection in me was reflected upon, and it was as if most of it was received by mouth, for most of the time his was open. It was fun, and a pleasure being with one, such as Jereriah, and to watch this young man being transformed by Christ into a disciplined believer.\n\nA New Beginning\n\nIt was not many weeks later that the Sanhedrin, that is, Jereriah's superiors, once again became involved in my imprisonment and started to take over, leaving him pushed to the side as if a stone. We still spent time together, and once in a while, the entire evening and night discussing, what now had become the important part in his life, Christ, Him crucified, and Him resurrected, but now had to use stealth. This only served to make the both of us stronger in Faith.\n\nSometimes the Sadducees, and at times the Roman soldiers, would enter into my dark habitat and try to convince me, through various tactics, to turn from my so-called 'wicked ways' and deny that this Jesus was really the Christ. The soldiers, they were there for fun; it was their entertainment to harass me in any way that was comical to them, but to neither did I give in, and never could that happen.\n\nNo, I denied Him thrice just before His crucifixion, and got caught doing so, and this, my friend, served as a great building stone for my life yet lived. I was thankful. It might have taken awhile before coming to myself about this denial, and who it was that I denied, but when it took root, the tree within me began growing. I will not, at this point, ever return to that mire, of which I've been washed from; the world.\n\nSo, with all the pressure the Sadducees thought they were placing on me, and my unwillingness to conform, and because of the stir that was created by Christ speaking thru me, a death sentence was announced. This news brought no sadness to my bones, nor did it affect my countenance in the slightest, but instead, brought a deeper peace that could only be understood when completely yielded to God's Messiah, the Christ, and I was at total peace with it.\n\nThis young man understood and received Christ earlier, and much faster, than was ever possible for me, that being that Jereriah had received the Holy Spirit, and now dwelled from within him. With his perception of Jesus as the Christ, and the personal relationship that was had, he had understood and received more in this year or so, than was had by me in the first decade. In no way was Jereriah a follower of me, he'd learned early and knew from the Spirit that he was to be a follower of no man, making Christ, and Him only, the center of life.\n\nHe could now see that following this, or any religious sect, was not the street to be traveled, and had to, at some point, break away from the teaching of father and mother. They were devout in their opinions, and he decided that this matter was to be handled subtly, but could and would be broken quickly if need be, for a Truth had been given, and could in no way return back to the fables of the blind.\n\nThe word was given to Jereriah that I was to be put to death, and I had to be moved to another city, farther north, to receive that punishment. He was willing, at that point, to go with me as an intercessor and mediator, and sometimes an interrupter for me, to those that would hear my case.\n\nThree weeks later I rode into, on a donkeys back, a larger city than my last abode; it was night when the small caravan arrived, but the city still continued in much business. Jereriah, still at my side, went with them that again, placed this body of mine into another dark dungeon; still feeling the presence of Christ, that hole was received as well as if it were under the stars and that Carob tree. And my face expressed every bit of my satisfaction to Jereriah, and also, to those that led me in there, for the peace that dwelt in my bowels could not be disturbed, not by this, nor any other ordeal that this body could be placed in. Me, being in peace, brought my friend and companion into peace also. The good folks that brought us here were tired, and after the chains were locked tight, left, and only the two of us, with no torch, settled in for the night.\n\nJereriah was privy to certain information, and at times would try to see if the details were wanted, but in this era of my being, I had no interest, what-so-ever, in why or how the coming days were to unfold, but he did. The Love that lodged in every aspect of my being conquered every fear, every regret, every trouble, now or back then, that had a hold on me, and at last, he began to understand it. I've really never seen or met a man like this, to say, no matter what's given to him, whether it be simple Truth or a complex meaning, Jereriah stayed with it, until the understanding was begotten. It was his hunger and thirst for the principles of God that this young man lived for, and at times he would assign a word of knowledge to me, that otherwise wasn't understood, and I too was growing.\n\nSome months later, Jereriah came for our daily visit, but on this particular evening he had a look about him, showing within the face, and the slumping of the shoulders, I knew something was bothering him to the core. We said our usual greetings, but this time, instead of his normal enthusiasm, he sat bent over with pause in his demeanor, not a word was spoken then.\n\n\"I perceive that you've heard something that has got you to thinking.\" I said this after more than several minutes. \"It's as if the news is bad, and maybe hasn't yet been dissolved. If you want to talk, we will, if you want to sit quiet; that we'll also do.\"\n\nHe'd look up, and our eyes would meet, but only for a short period before hanging again his head. After a long pause, I could see droplets of tears soaking the robe that was worn, and as loudly as the silence was quiet, he spoke in a determined voice and almost shouted; \"they're going to crucify you.\"\n\nI couldn't get any closer to him for the length of the chains that bound my ankles, wouldn't allow it and asking him to come nearer, he did. \"Jereriah, don't be troubled over such things, for this same God that brought me into this Life, is able to see me through to the end.\"\n\n\"But you don't understand, in three days, those that call themselves righteous, are going to kill you.\"\n\n\"Jereriah, I knew this was to be months ago,\" I said with him now laying his head on my chest, \"I am old, I have lived my life, I have walked my walk, seeds have been planted in me, and a few, I have strewn in my walk with Jesus these past years. My time is come, be not troubled for this that has to be.\"\n\n\"But Peter, what the Sanhedrin is about to do destroys your ministry, your life, and in the process, destroying themselves also, this ought not to happen.\" He said, but this time sitting up with his hands on my shoulders, looking me forward in the face with an expression of despair.\n\nSettling back and reflecting for a long time, waiting on him to compose himself, and then told him with a smile that conveyed and articulated every true thought that was filling my body with Love. \"What a privilege to be counted worthy of the same blessing that Jesus gave to us all. And totaling my whole life; and this journey traveled, to be found in earnest with Him that gave this Life to me.\"\n\n\"But in three days.\" That's all he said, but now began to come back to himself a little more relaxed, but still tense.\n\n\"When I was your age, I could go where I wanted, and needed no help in doing so, but now in my old age, I cannot gird myself, and where I go, someone takes me. This was told to me many years ago by our Lord, and now it is coming to pass, and all that remains in me is; Love. For of a truth, I am ready.\"\n\nMy close friend and I chatted most of the night, hashing as many particulars of God that either could come up with, and every time a subject was disseminated, the Spirit would show one or the other, and sometimes both, a revealed meaning of the scriptures. He understood that his time with me was short, and I think, therefore wanting to glean or understand as much as he was able, but I told Jereriah that the Holy Spirit knows all things, and will never leave him, and will in fact, teach all things that he needs to know. I might be of some help, but until God is ready to reveal to you certain things, the help I give would be futile.\n\nBut I did have one request to him, and it was at his convenience; \"would you write a letter for me to my wife and those back home? Seeing how my hands are tied, and you've been such a wonderful encouragement to me with your writing thus far, I thought of maybe writing a small epistle of reassurance to those that care, and to those that love me also.\n\nThe answer; although with tears was; \"yes.\"\n\nThat early morning, after Jereriah had left, for he too needed rest, the Lord fell upon me as mightily as that of the special day at Pentecost. A Love flushed thru my heart and soul, and also filling the body and mind of the same, lifting me to heights never before entered. I had had rushes of His presence, on occasion, but just about the time that the night broke into day, His existence in Love, or, His Love in His existence, fell into every orifice of this dark dungeon, and expanding into every crevice of me being. IT WAS WONDERFUL!\n\nThe acceptance that I'd thought in my understanding of Love, the indulgence thus far perceived in Love, nor even the forbearance of what I grasped as being Love, were far short of the revelation that plummeted upon me that beautiful morning. Or did I fall into It? My eye have not seen, nor my ear heard, nor has it ever entered into my heart that the presence of Christ, and His unfathomable Love, would have such richness as that which, that morning, was generated in me. I knew Him to have a hand on me. I burst from the 'old man' that had held me to the dimensions of this earth, and now floated above and beyond what this planet could contain. To attempt to articulate the greatness of the Love of God thru His Christ would certainly be unsuccessful at best, and on the other hand, certainly be inaccurate, for what flowed through me was more than the mind of man could ascertain. His presence lit the dungeon as if it was outside, and even now, a halo of glow remains. Those other prisoners, thru the several tunnels, also cheered with excitement at the manifestation of His authority of Love in this underground vault, for they too could see the brightness of His existence as it illuminated thru every crack and crevice.\n\nAgain, to explain this with the limited words of the language of this earth would be inadequate, so don't fault me for trying.\n\nThe beauty of the presence of Christ was far more real than I'd seen during our days of walking together, in the flesh that is, and the colors of His speech, the multi tones of His movements, the sounds of the glow in His eyes, and the fluid of His smile was more than this man, or I think any man, could truly receive and still be in our earthly body. The presence of Jesus and His Love filled me to overflowing, and at first, I fell on my face, being paralyzed with an overwhelming influence of His being. This was much like the day after His resurrection when, without a door being opened, revealed Himself in Glory, but much grandeur. A few moments later, or so I thought, the emanating light had somehow become brighter, therefore giving me a window to see Him clearly. As Jesus spoke, telling me of His presence, and saying; \"fear not, it is I,\" I arose from my stupor to His open arms which held an unforgettable hug.\n\nNot much was said by either, nor did we need too, but instead, a communication existed, detailed in every way; that established our friendship and His great and tender Love for me. I could see what he saw when looking at me, and at that point, all he could see in me was Love, for every person that Jesus saw, all that He viewed, was filtered through the Love of God, and I received it in fullness.\n\nI didn't, from that point forward, have to ask nor seek the truest of the meanings of Love, for I too, soaked every morsel of its value thru my being. As inadequate as the speaking of my precept about this encounter is; it is all that can be spoken with the derisory language we have. This unbeknownst Love ran straighter and truer with its' unequaled existence to illuminate the righteousness of God; and this was done to me, or should I say for me?\n\nLove, at least the way I viewed it in the past, was a precept, a definition of a thought or a feeling, but now understood it to be a living form of life; in fact, the expressed form of our living God. To miss, or not find this Love, I now know, was to think that life is a set of circumstances, accidents, or just plain luck, but the Truth is; Love is the final evidence, the last stage of mans' existence and the true fullness of why we were created.\n\nHornswoggled\n\nThe same evening, when Jereriah arrived, a hint of glow remained throughout the dark walls of this dungeon, but little noticed by him as the demeanor carried was not much different than it had been that same morning. But what was different, was that the smile carried earlier was now imprinted permanently upon my face, and in recognition of that, he mustered somewhat of a smile himself.\n\n\"Peter, tomorrow at the sixth hour, you will be crucified by those that I thought, in times pass, to represent the things of God.\"\n\n\"Jereriah, relax,\" I said to him while still shining like a lamp, \"for a purpose I was born, and now that purpose has been fulfilled, the Sanhedrin cannot hurt that which lies within, and this shell of my body counts for nothing except in this dimensional walk on earth. For this morning I realized that all the works of Jesus thru me, was but negligible, compared to the true perception of His great Love for us. Therefore, since that which is perfect has come, His Love, then that which is in part shall be done away, and this my closest friend, is the completion of Life. But I now have the privilege to share it with you.\"\n\nThat entire day was spent sharing and conversing with one another about the Love of God, and how it affects everything on this planet. Jereriah came to see that which I had seen, or maybe should say experienced, for his reception of my words filled him too with a joy unspeakable, and it was then that he saw the remainder of the aura of light, and leaped with joy. This young man visited with the same Christ that had so much affected me, and his joy was as much appreciated as only Love could deliver. He stayed with me thru the night, and wanted also to be with me as long as possible, even thru the end. The conversations we had were solemn, quietly conveyed, but also energetic, for the body cannot contain the volume of Love spilling from one to another.\n\nEarly the next morning, many of the older scribes and elders of the synagogue approached with much arrogance, and pride, as was plainly portrayed by their haughtiness and rigid profile, wanting once again to justify their upcoming deeds. One would ask me a question, but before I could answer, another question was slung in my direction, and this went on for several hours until each was satisfied that their egos were stroked.\n\n\"Men, for the law you know, and every letter of it has been accounted for by your knowledge, but the Love, Grace, and Mercy of our same heavenly Father has been overlooked. For you, yourself, are not vipers, but your rigid system that will not tolerate change; is. For you strain thru your filter every gnat, but are choked on every camel as passes thru it. That which God has sent to you, you rejected, wanting only to protect that law in which so much of your time has been spent perfecting and protecting, that the true goodness of God has been neglected. You have left your first love to seek your idle of your ego, and turned it into a law of death. The law, given to us by Moses, was meant only to point us away from our sins, by showing them, and to prepare us for Gods' upcoming Testament of our hope in Jesus Christ.\"\n\nIt was then that the chief elder, I think to be the priest, took three steps forward and slapped me across the cheeks with his cane, saying; \"why do you blaspheme the law of God, given to us by Moses?\"\n\n\"The law was given to us by God, not to bring us to His will, but to show all that no one, no, not even you, can withstand the rigors of it. It was given to show all that, in ourselves, we cannot hit the mark, therefore showing only the transgression, it is a school master, and only death can remain by it. But, Jesus Christ.....\"\n\nAt this time four men approached, one grapping me by the hair, while another rent my robe, and the other two threw my body to the floor and began kicking my head and back, then screaming in a shrill voice that God would not tolerate such blasphemes.\n\nAfter some time, I know not how long, and sitting back again on my stone, used for a chair, the interrogation continued, but not without abuse. No amount of exploit could render my affection, even for them, from within my heart that was so securely fastened. Evidently this was my first true test to be considered, that is, to come to a positive understanding of Gods' Love, and my reaction from being hated by those that He loves equally.\n\nThe mishandling and violence continued, and Jereriah, still standing in the corner that he was forced to stand in, watched; and at times, as one would get tired from his protest, another would step up to persist in the rhetoric of their misguided ways. But within me, unexplainable, the Love of Christ just deepened with every act of violence and injudicious passion that was brought forth from their every effort, but to no avail. The Love planted in me was rooted on the 'good ground' of my spirit, and had already grown into my flesh.\n\nAbout noon time, for Jereriah had made a comment about the strength of the sun, the elders and others just quit, standing with their long faces of protest waiting on me to make the next move or comment, but it didn't happen. And then in a soft, but yet not humbled voice, the oldest of the group said; \"what do you have to say for yourself?\" But before an answer could be made, he again spoke; \"You are guilty, not only of heresy but for following a heretic, a man calling himself the Messiah, but in truth, was found guilty of treason and a blasphemer. Admit your guilt and the punishment will be swift and painless. Now, what do you have to say?\"\n\n\"Gentlemen, we call upon the same God,\" I began to slowly speak, only to see if my words were being heard, \"but our usage of His being is quite different, but God's Grace is sufficient for you also, if you hear His call to repentance.\"\n\nThe group of men, one looking at the other, curling their fist, holding their shoulders in a reared position, and their indignation showing at every level, shouted; \"who are you to call us into the things of God?\" But no one took even one step forward, but rent their robes instead, saying; \"you are guilty of also being a heretic.\"\n\n\"Sirs, you are right in one point; and in one point only. For of a truth, I am guilty; I am guilty of being hornswoggled in the Love of God thru His Christ Jesus, captured by and with His never-ending Love, and for that; I AM GUILTY AND THANKFUL.\"\n\nA Reminder\n\nTo my brother Andrew, my fellow Apostles and disciples, to all my friends and followers of Christ, and especially to my wife; receive my new and very close friend Jereriah. Salute him and welcome him as one of us that love the Lord from the depth of his bowels, one who has stood beside me and with me thru all these times of mans' peril, but counted unto me as Glory. I beseech you to receive him in my stead, as one who has also been captured into and by the Love of God, a disciple and scribe of the highest order.\n\nJereriah and I have spent much time together these past years and some months, and he has patiently written the story of my life as spoken thru my mouth. He was born a Jew, a scribe by trade, and grew up under the bondage of religion, but was set free from his old nature by the revealing and revelation of Jesus, face to face. And he brings to you, my beloved, greetings from your fellow believer born Simeon, and surname Peter by the mouth of our Lord Christ Jesus, saying to all; I have lived a good life, and now count it a privilege to die with the testimony of Jesus. My worthiness is not of myself, but it is He that gave me Life, and Life ever-lasting. And since it is my body, and my body only, that they put to death, I have objected strenuously to be crucified in this unworthy carnal shell, as that that was done to our Lord. Whether my objection was heeded or ignored is not as yet known.\n\nBeing raised in the Jewish faith, but not adhering but slightly to their form of godliness, and still living a life of morals; I became dissatisfied with my inner life. For emptiness created a void in my soul, that, even being happily married could not remedy. And in a time, met Him that was the Messiah, dropping everything to follow Him that claimed to have the Truth, and did; I began a journey that waxed both hot and cold.\n\nBeing counted among twelve, I saw myself as leader, chief among our small group of those that laid down our old life to follow Jesus, a mentor of those chosen ones, and not knowing then, but was unqualified in every capacity.\n\nMy life and walk with Jesus was ordered by our God, but my ego and my small amount of knowledge of things spiritual, held me to only that which the flesh could comprehend. When told that what I said was the rock on which Christ would build His Church, being in my flesh, took as a reinforcement of my leadership role; again, I was mistaken. But, when told to get behind Him, even speaking in my direction, calling out satan, and him being rebuked, I shrunk with embarrassment, for only a few moments earlier, I told Jesus that I'd fight for Him to the end. Again, this was only my flesh speaking with pride.\n\nWhen told by our Lord to feed His lambs and sheep; again reestablished my idea of being in-charge, and not understanding His meaning, retained that which was spoken, and not knowing that on a certain day; all would be revealed.\n\nI loved this man Jesus, and much more so now, and I believed with all my being that He gave purpose in life, therefore most of the emptiness had faded from within me, and with all that I possessed, loved Him. But right before He was nailed to that tree, I denied that I'd had ever known Him, not once did I do this, but three times, that is; I completely rejected His identity, and had become a total failure. If only I had understood Grace, for His Mercy was great, and beyond my understanding, I surely wouldn't have thought Him to forsake me; which he didn't, but so I thought.\n\nAfter His death, living in despair, a failure in every way, I became bored and went fishing, if most of what I'd thought were true, then maybe leading these other men on a successful fishing trip would reconcile me again to their favor. But even that failed, for it was then that Jesus caught the one hundred and fifty-three great fish, I was glad for that, but again felt as if I'd let them down.\n\nI operated then as many I see today do, in the flesh, attempting in every way known to man to prove myself worthy of the Love of our Jesus. Expecting every 'good deed' to be recognized by Him with favor, and of course, it was not, nor will it ever be. The flesh was not made to be perfected, and it began to sink it at Pentecost. Without my effort, and without my will, the Spirit of God used my vocal cords to preach His message. I was changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, my corrupted flesh was set aside, and the incorruptible Spirit from within took over. Jesus, thru the Holy Spirit, filled me to the running over place of containment, for He could not be contained, and again, my life changed. My mind-set was altered from speaking only from the flesh, to allowing Him to speak thru me.\n\nThe whole world looked different, that which was out of kilter, now seemed aligned; that which carried a hint of darkness, was now brighter; the sick could be visualized as healed, the blind, as if they had vision, everything that was looked upon had clarity. And as long as I kept my eyes off myself, looking only on Him that created this world; then it was only Him that I could see. My flesh had no significance. The void that had plagued my soul for all those years was nearly gone, victory was mine.\n\nThinking then that the mark to be achieved, was achieved, and little did I know that much more purging was mine to be had. Although I adhered to little of the particulars of the Jewish religion, I did follow, to my shame, the prejudices taught to me from my youth. And until that evening at Cornelius' house, and the vision of the sheet being lower down with all manner of beast, I allowed that practice to control me, but God showed me that there is no difference between Jew and Gentile. Thinking then that this error of my life had been overcome, was lifted again in pride some years later, subduing my life once more to the standards of those that presented themselves as the principles of the law.\n\nMy life was changing, this was a fact, and at each stage of change, I thought that I'd reached the end, the totem of maturity, but in reality, it was just another level of my growth, with many more changes to come.\n\nIf what would have happened, when Paul rebuked me to my face, had happened several years earlier, it would have angered me to the point of a rebuttal. But as it was; this was the one circumstance that was so sorely needed to place me on the path that I was intended for. For God had moved on Paul, so He could move on me, to once again bring me to His Graces, which at that time was essential. For revelation after revelation, and understanding after understanding, and knowledge after knowledge illuminated from within my spirit to bring the purpose of the journey to fruition.\n\nBut not until that time, those weeks, spent under the shade of that Carob tree did this entire journey really begin to find its value. Times were quiet, the noise of my soul silent, as my feet rested, my inner man was awakened, a major comfort of the Spirit was taking place. The seed had been planted decades ago, maybe even had sprouted, but then was the flowering stage of what was to come, readied to put on fruit, it was all God, for of a certainty, I Peter, couldn't in any strength of my own, cause this growth. An awe-inspiring flow of Gods' Love poured from the window, or the tree from which I rested, of God, and filled me to the brink of overflowing. I was no longer scared, for all fear had slipped from my being, for that which is perfect had come, and all that was in part began vanishing, for Love conquers all.\n\nMeeting these men that camped along beside me was no happenstance, but was a true gift from God, an opportunity to show myself that that which was given; was received. I call that time; the first beginning of the rest of my purposed life. Love had entered this emptied vessel, and occupied the space reserved within me, for from it, completing this man, surnamed Peter, with the fullness of His Glory.\n\nSo being placed in this prison was no great matter to me, it was again an opportunity to shine His light in the darkness of gloom.\n\nI had, in days past, written two epistles of short, but now, thru the hand of Jereriah, have this prospect of a chance to share with those that have interest, the historical story of my life as it evolved from a moral, but smelly fisherman, to a confused and misunderstanding disciple. The story never ends with misapprehending, no, not with the Lord, with His Truth and Love, His all, being revealed to those that seek Him. He that was called a stumbling block, is now the chief cornerstone, therefore we that follow Him are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, a Holy nation, a special people to proclaim the praises of Him who called us out of darkness into His marvelous light. Who were once not a people, but now are the people of God, who had not obtained mercy, but now have obtained Mercy.\n\nEach step in my life brought me to another place, another level of development of spiritual growth, gaining understanding and insight, but at the same time, still had at least a piece of void left in me. It was not until the total reception of Love from the ever presence of Christ filling my inner man, that total completion was had. For me, this happened in my last days, but never-the-less, I was filled with who He is and where He comes from; Love. For God is Love; that is His name, and His Mercy and Grace endures forever.\n\nAnd who is he that would harm you if you become a follower of what is Good? But even if you should suffer for righteousness sake, you are blessed. And do not be afraid of their threats, nor be troubled. But sanctify the Lord God in your hearts, and always be ready to give an answer with meekness and reverence. Having a good conscience, that when they defame you as evildoers, may, by your behavior, be ashamed.\n\nGreet on another with a kiss of Love. Peace to all, for Christ Jesus lives in all, and received by those that are awakened.\n\nI looked Jereriah in his eyes, smiled a friendly smile, hugged him the best I could, and reminded him to not forget as God's Word went forth from him, that where two or three are gathered in His name, Christ will be in the midst of them. And that mans' organization of God and His bride will always fail, if adhered to; but God will never fail.\n\nAt least a dozen men came to drag my best and closest friend Peter off. Being told by him for me to remain here; I did. It is now my job to put pen to parchment; that the story of his evolution may be told to those that have ears and to those that can learn from Peters' mistake. He had found rest in the Lord long before they came to take him away.\n\nAuthors Note\n\nAs each of us travel through this world, that is enmity to God, the road is sometimes long and many times full of obstacles, but the length and troubles are of Gods' design, meticulously engineered by Him just for us. Man in his natural state, that is his carnal mind, wants to murmur and whine over every obstruction or difficultly that is set before him, but in truth, God will never leave us, nor forsake us, and He will use every evil to build and purify those that seek His face. \"All things work together for good to those that love the Lord.\"\n\nHe that has no enemies or adversaries is often weak, and has but little opportunity to grow; for many times, it is the obstacle sat before us that can halt man, and bring him into the realm of change, that can bring about that growth.\n\nAs we search and research the scriptures. One will find that every single person or character will evolve thru a catastrophe, or a series of painful events. I need not go through all of them, but to name a few might get us into the right way of thinking. Our culture, especially in the western world, has deepened man into complacency and self-indulgence of thinking that this soft life is deserved and earned, when in fact it has been paid for many times over by many of those that have preceded us. If we are strong, whether in spirit or soul, it is most likely because of the hardships endured and then was overcome. Whatsoever comes easy, probably has but little value, the road well-traveled, probably goes nowhere. For if it did, (broad is the way), many would have found our abundant life; but the road filled with obstacles, (narrow is the way), and its straightforwardness can bring Life to those that can look beyond the obvious, for but few travel it.\n\nThe love of Jacobs' life was Rachel, but fourteen years of hard labor were required by his father-in-law for her. And many times he was lied too, before the requirements were met, and still these obstruction did not detour Jacob in any way; not for the love-of-his-life. This was a representation of a Godly goal that was met, and we too often struggle through this life, with its trials and tribulation only to find, to those that seek God, that they too were especially designed by God just for us; a blessing.\n\nJacobs' son Joseph, the first born from the love of his life was thrown in a pit, sold as a slave, and spent something like twenty-two year in prison, before becoming Governor, and having the opportunity of saving his family, including Jacob, his nation and those that surrounded it. He had to face many oppositions, such as lies, and even his own ego, before God could use him in a mighty way.\n\nMoses was hunted as a murderer and spent forty years in the wilderness; being prepared by God to remove the accumulated Egypt from him. These were times of loneliness and troubles, and though God knew what had to be done, and many trials persisted, Moses prospered in the Lord in spite of them.\n\nIn the wilderness the Israelites whined and murmured through just about every situation for forty more years, after their escape from Pharaoh, and all but three had to die before they could enter into the Promised Land, (the Kingdom of God). And when the 'old man' had all died out, it was Joshua (the same name as Jesus) that was to lead them there; Moses, carrying the law, was told to continue in the wilderness, blessed but not accepted.\n\nDavid was anointed King of Israel, but had many battles to fight, and a preceding king to contend with, and spent many years hiding in caves with a threat on his life; the oops of the next door neighbors wife, the death of children, before he was made ready to accept God totally with the Ark of the Covenant, (by the way, is you and me).\n\nElijah had Jezebel, Sampson had Delilah, The Baptist had Herod's step daughter to contend with, Job lost everything and ended up sitting on a dung hill before being restored back to the obvious prosperity of God; and even Jesus, after spending forty days in the wilderness, had many attacks and tribulations to go through before He was fully engaged in the commission God gave Him.\n\nIf we believe in the 'pie-in-the-sky' theory, which I hope we don't, then the road to be traveled will come with many obstacles, for the roads already traveled by many others are cleared of every piece of debris, and if they could have worked on our behave, would have; but they don't. That which we look for in Christ is free, but the growth sometimes comes with a cost of our 'old man'; being either laid down, or purged away by the blessings of persecutions, etc., therefore leaving us with the comfort of Gods' strength, knowing that our own attributes can only hinder.\n\nWhat some call evil could be a disguised blessing from God, especially orchestrated just for us. And I'm not sure, but I wonder if Peters' life, since he was ordained to be an Apostle, was designed and premeditated by God, ingenuously put together to bring him to a point and place to fully understand the Love that God had for him, and all. For at that period preceding his death, Peter gave up on the self that he was, to become the completed being of Gods' creation, personifying Christ and His Love.\n\nBy reading scripture and other historical books of the age, there is no indication that Peter adhered to the organization or institutionalization of the Church, or the 'so called church' in any form. There is evidence that he came against that mentality of 'higher and lower order', (as seen in the churches of today), and the formation of a building dedicated for the purpose of people coming to worship. \"Go ye into the world, preaching the Gospel of this Kingdom...\" But nothing has been said about calling folks to 'come' to the form of man's ego, and his ability to create God in his own image. Which is exactly what is happening when we come together, place a name on our gathering, form committees and business meetings, allot a certain time and day for so called worship, send our preacher/pastor to school to learn how, take up money, and maybe even charter our organization. This is not the way that the Ekklesia, (Christ's Church), was to be built, nor does it resemble the Rock, (the Revelations), on which His indwelling is to take up residence. The Gospel will be shared throughout the world, but not by the mass gatherings of what we call 'church' today. This is a far cry from that which Christ was building with His people, fitly joined together, with Him the chief cornerstone, meeting here or there, mobilizing each other as God gives the increase. \"Where two or three shall gather in my name, there I will be in the midst of them.\"\n\nTo the causal 'christain', those that just want appeasement with their weekly meetings, the same-o, same-o will work for them, but for those that seek a relationship with God thru the King of Kings, will have to break away from the nonsense that man has created to stroke his own ego, for it's not of Christ. Right now, I believe, the true Church of our God is still wandering in the wilderness, waiting for the 'old man' to die, be enlightened to lay self aside, and then walk away, following the only Master that man was created to obey, Christ Jesus.\n\nPeter was never made pope; I think it's just wishful thinking for some to justify their institutionalization of their control over their underlings.\n\nJesus said; \"come to me, you that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest, for my yoke is easy, and my burdens are light.\" Peter, especially in his beginning days of ministry, did not fully understand this, but as he grew and waxed strong in the Love of God, realized that it was Grace, the Mercy of God, and a relationship with the Father, that God sought for His people; not the many washings of hands, or outward appearances of worship. For He is Spirit, and much be worshipped in Spirit.\n\nAs it was with the towns and people in the travels of Peter, so it is with many of the same of our time. Religion was not designed to bring any to God, and He knew it. For the timing of Jesus' arrival to earth was not happenstance; but He was sent at a crucial time to save man from himself before total destruction was had. Today, as it was during the ministry of the early apostles, man continues to step in with his egotistical formulas of self-reliance and man-made doctrines. They didn't work back then, and certainly won't work now. It's time for change, every aspect of our thinking has to change, which is what the word repentance means, we have to turn around our way of thinking, putting on the mind of Christ, turn to God, turn away from our self; and let us develop a relationship with the Father of creation.\n\nIt is not our own 'good deeds' that bring any to the righteousness of God, but that of receiving His Love, and the relationship we can have, and He wants, with each. Contrary to that in which has been taught; God does not place expectations on any, that's a carnal man thing, He loves us because he Loves us, and desires a relationship with all. Not because we've acted right, nor because we've earned it; but because we fall under the category of being created in His similitude, and with no cost but acceptance; it is offered to all. In fact, even if we don't accept it, it is still freely given, for he so loved the world that he gave; and what was given, was LOVE.\n\nCan we read this novel, looking at Peter, but really see ourselves? At least in my walk with God, I have found that each profound and deep lover of the Lord arose through many obstacles and tribulations, before finding their revealed life thru a relationship that God had determined for them and us.\n\nHatred, prejudice, resentment, strife, and envy of others' is not from God, for these are all from the ill-begotten fruit that man plucked from the tree of knowledge, of good and evil; and must be set aside, before all that is from God can fill the heart of man. For if the vessel is full, how can He fill it more? We must first be emptied.\n\nConsider Jesus, he's already considered you. Thank you\n\nPlease, go to my web-site and check out my other books, and while you're there, listen to some of the songs written by a very dear friend of mine. Watch the 'you-tube' video, and maybe leave a comment. www.themanwithin1.com\n\nOther Books by this Author\n\nThe Man within\n\nThis is an historic autobiography of a knucklehead growing up in the 50's and 60's. The story starts with a devastating disease, moves into the foolishness of my teenage years, and the immaturity of being a young adult. Several funny stories, and some not so funny that led to my growing up into adulthood.\n\nGod has opened my eyes to the illusions of what we call 'church' and has uncovered to me a truth regarding the transparency of the rites and rituals of this 'thing'.\n\nThe Two Trees Within\n\nMan has built an empire unto himself throughout the last seventeen centuries, and institutionalized, rationalized, justified, and flaunted on most any and every street corner, in any and every town or city.\n\nAs the tower of Babel was destroyed by God, so this 'thing' called 'church' will also fall. The monuments man has built unto himself, by his own hands, are being exposed; for these too will have to fall, as God said about the temple; \"Not one stone shall be left upon another.\"\n\nThis is an attempt to expose man, his carnal mind, along with the structures built by his hands; for these also will fall as did the tower of Babel.\n\nPlease go to You-Tube and watch my short video at 'The Two Trees Within' and see if what's being said makes sense. These books can be downloaded for free from my website.\n\nwww.themanwithin1.com\n\n", "meta": {"pile_set_name": "BookCorpus2"}}
{"text": " \nThe Shrink from Planet Zob: Psychiatry for a Mad World from philosopher Jake Lyron is the ground-breaking campaign to make a mad world sane which earned Jake a Mental Health Hero Award for his contribution to the field of mental health.\n\n### What other people are saying about the book:\n\n\"Lyron's evidence is compelling and revelatory. The factual content will challenge the best of us, but when you need it most, the fictional thread will make you laugh out loud. An important book to take the world forward.\"\n\nSir Ranulph Fiennes, OBE – 'the world's greatest living explorer' (Guinness Book of Records)\n\n\"This book will change my world.\"\n\nKate - psychiatric nurse.\n\n\"Went from interesting to enlightening to inspirational... in a word: brilliant.\"\n\nDan – philosopher.\n\n\"A real page turner.\"\n\nGail – sailor.\n\n\"The world needs to change, this book could be the catalyst.\"\n\nHeather – home educator.\n\n### < O >\n\n### The Shrink from Planet Zob: Psychiatry for a Mad World\n\n### Jake Lyron\n\n### Smashwords Edition.\n\n### Copyright 2011 Jake Lyron. All rights reserved.*\n\nIf you enjoy this free ebook, please consider supporting Jake's campaign work by making a donation at the paypal registered email address zarrablastcreative@gmail.com. No emails are read at this address.\n\n* You may copy this ebook under the following conditions: This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported Licence. You may re-distribute copies of this ebook provided you make an attribution to the original author Jake Lyron. You may not distribute this ebook for commercial gain. You may not alter the content of this ebook in any way.\n\nThe right of Jake Lyron to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988 (UK Law). Unless otherwise noted in Acknowledgements, text and illustrations © Copyright 2007-2012 Jake Lyron. All rights reserved.\n\nNo part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. This copy is Update 6; 26/8/2013.\n\n# Contents\n\n### Introduction\n\n### Prologue: The Galactic Mental Health Outreach Team\n\n### 1 The Sectioning\n\nWhy We Don't Go to Therapy\n\nWhat Do Mentally Ill People Look Like?\n\nWho Should Be Sectioned?\n\n### 2 The World's Most Ordinary Homo Sapien\n\nInformation Overload\n\n### 3 The First Session\n\nTransference\n\nTrust\n\nWho Are the Real Therapists?\n\n### 4 The Spectre of Resistance\n\nRecognising the Problem - Resistance\n\n### 5 Nutters, Psychos and Lunatics\n\nStress Induced Psychosis – Who is 'Mad'?\n\nMisconceptions around Schizophrenia\n\nStress Can Cause Schizophrenia\n\nMore on Stigma\n\nSocial Exclusion as a Cause of Mental Illness\n\nAttitudes to Mental Illness\n\nFrom Where Does Stress Originate?\n\n### 6 An Ordinary Psychopath\n\nThe Genetic Cause of Psychopathic Behaviour\n\nDefining Psychopathy\n\nMy Psychopathy\n\nOutlook on Psychopathy\n\n### 7 When Psychopaths Get Together\n\nAn Assessment of War\n\nThe Smallest of Conflicts\n\nGroup Conformity\n\nContagious Psychopathy in Groups\n\nWars Are Easy to Start\n\nWe Fall Easily Into Power Cliques\n\nPower Cliques Grow\n\nMythic Reality\n\nFighting Is Enjoyable\n\nPsychopathic Peace Makers\n\nFinding a Cure\n\n### 8 The Growth of Conscience\n\nShame and Guilt\n\nGuilty Confessions\n\nTherapy Teaching the Mechanics of Conscience\n\nManipulating With Guilt\n\nHugh's Shame and Guilt\n\n### 9 Poor Homo Sapiens\n\nAn Initial Assessment: The Poor Part of the World\n\nAn Initial Assessment: The Wealthy Part of the World\n\nIs Money Redistribution a Solution? What is the Price of a Life?\n\nThe Ethics of Giving\n\nPsychological Reasons Why People Don't Give More\n\nA Victim Who Is Identifiable\n\nProtecting Our Power Clique\n\nFeelings of Futility\n\nContagious Psychopathy In Groups\n\nHelping the Poor Means Curing Psychopathy\n\nAltruism Benefits the Psyche\n\nActions for the Ordinary Homo Sapien\n\n### 10 An Inconvenient Truth\n\nAn Initial Assessment of the Environment\n\nThe Problems Grow as the Population Grows\n\nConsumerism as an Addiction\n\nThe Reaction to Inconvenient Environmental Truths\n\nThe Freudian Perspective\n\nFutility Thinking – Again\n\nNarcissism, Psychopathy and the Environment\n\nSome Case Studies\n\nGreen Lies\n\nPopulation Growth and Psychopathy\n\nScope for Change\n\n### 11 Feeling Down\n\nDepression on Earth\n\nCauses of Depression\n\n### 12 Snakes In Suits\n\nThe Birth of the Corporation\n\nCorporate Responsibility Versus Psychopathy\n\nThe Corporation as a Power Clique\n\nA Case Study\n\nThe International Pharmaceuticals Industry\n\nMore Case Studies\n\nCorporations and the Environment\n\nManipulating the Truth\n\nCorporations Manipulate Politicians\n\nGlobalisation\n\nOutlook\n\n### 13 A Six Month Appraisal\n\n### 14 Earthlings\n\nAn Initial Assessment of Animal Rights\n\nNarcissism and Psychopathy\n\nFreudian Defence Mechanisms in Animal Abusers\n\nMeat-Free Diets and Mental Growth\n\nAnimal Rights and the Psychopathy Continuum\n\nGood and Bad and Animal Abuse\n\n### 15 Looking Deeper\n\n### 16 Faith in Psychology\n\nAncient Attempts to Cure Psychopathy\n\nThe Religious False Fix\n\nThe Religious Defence Mechanism\n\nThe Efficacy of Prayer\n\nReligion and Psychosis\n\nReligious Power Cliques\n\nReligions Kill\n\nMore Reasons Why Religions Keep Going\n\nA Way Forward\n\n### 17 The Second Coming\n\nBeing a Messiah\n\n### 18 The Lunatics Have Taken Over the Asylum\n\nPoliticians and Mental Illness\n\nThe Dark Side of Politics\n\nPolitical Power Cliques\n\nGoverning is Therapy\n\n### 19 Nature Versus Nurture\n\nTeaching Children to be Violent\n\nTeaching Children to Abuse Animals\n\nGreen Education\n\nReligious Education\n\nYoung Psychopaths\n\nThe Scope for Change\n\n### 20 Media Madness\n\nPolitical Bias, Power Cliques and Psychopathy\n\nReinforcing Unhealthy Social Norms\n\nScope for Improvement\n\n### 21 Dispensing Global Psychotherapy\n\nGet Some Therapy!\n\nBecome a Psychotherapist\n\nEngage With Reality\n\nLead By Example\n\nChange How You Work\n\nBe Spiritual\n\nConnect With Others\n\nLook After Yourself\n\n### 22 Back Down to Earth\n\n### Notes\n### About the Author\n\n### Help Make the Film!\n\n### Hugh Manitee's Book of Memes\n\n### Dr Zab's Couch\n\nJake Lyron's Shop\n\n### Join Us!\n\nMore by Jake Lyron\n\n#  Introduction\n\nHave you ever thought \"the world's gone mad!\"? Well, that's a lot closer to the truth than most people realise. This book offers a new kind of exploration into mental health and illness, on a global scale. The reader who is unfamiliar with the world of psychology and therapy will find plenty of revealing new insights here, and even accredited psychologists will find new and challenging truths. For in this work, I have occasionally broken free of convention. I have gleaned plenty from past research on the subject, but by looking at humanity through the eyes of a rigorous alien psychiatrist,  there comes a perspective which is not just different, but often highly controversial.\n\nThis will be a challenging book for some. There is a great amount of information to get across, and for many people it is information which will be radically new. Absorbing new truths _has to_ be a slow process \\- the human mind simply cannot adapt quickly to too much new information; neural connections are often slow to 're-wire'. As I have found from my own experiences in mental health, new information can at times be challenging. If you find mental health a difficult subject, then it is worth offering you some wise words taken from the front of another great galactic book – Douglas Adams' _The Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy._ They are: _DON'T PANIC!_ Take it easy! But if you find the book is overly disturbing, you should consider ceasing to read.\n\nMany readers will find this book healing. Some people who have experienced mental illness may be heartened to know they have found a friend, and they may be pleased to know that they are not as 'mad' as they thought they were (or as mad as other people said they were!) A minority of people will not complete the book, being intimidated by the moral message. Those few will miss the best insights and solutions which come near to the end. But for the reader who relishes a challenge, for the reader who wants deep insights into the human condition, and for the reader who seeks solutions to difficult problems, there is much to offer in these pages. (There is also plenty on offer for those who want a laugh!)\n\nThe first section of the book focuses in on the issue of mental health, questioning how we define mental illness. When new light is shed on this, the book goes on to look at the psychology of the big global issues of our day: war, poverty, the environment, animal welfare and a lot more besides. From there, we look for solutions.\n\nIn order to illustrate how the therapeutic process works, therapists who write on the subject often wish to write about the experiences of some of their clients. This puts the writer in a moral dilemma, as an essential part of the therapeutic work is to keep all information on the client strictly confidential. I have got round this dilemma by providing a few examples of disorders from one psyche which I _can_ freely discuss: my own. I have had plenty of run-ins with mental illness and with the psychiatric profession, so to clarify a few aspects of psychiatry I will occasionally talk about my own experiences. These sections are mainly towards the start of the book, and they constitute a small part of the overall content. My motivation for writing about myself is purely to illustrate some of the issues in hand, and hopefully to make the discussion more 'real'.\n\nOccasionally I have referred to other real people. In order to keep their identities hidden I have changed various aspects of their personal details - names, appearance, and so forth. As an extra precaution I tossed a coin to decide the genders I would use to describe my psychiatrist and the psychiatric nurse who helped me and they ended up as female and male respectively. This seems fair. Any similarity between the characters described and real life people will therefore be entirely coincidental; the reader will not be able to identify the individuals concerned.\n\nAt the end of each chapter you will see links to websites and a Facebook page where you can share the book and interact with other readers. If you like what you read, feel free to let others know.\n\nThere are plenty of good and wondrous things in our world of course, which we can all enjoy and celebrate. To make the world even more wondrous we will be exploring solutions to the world's problems. We need to sort out our mad world. That is what this book is for.\n\n(NB The singular of _Homo sapiens_ is _Homo sapiens,_ not _Homo Sapien._ But aliens don't know this; they're not very good at latin.)\n\nThe links to share and discuss this book on Facebook and Twitter are at::\n\nwww.TheShrinkFromPlanetZob.com.\n\n# Prologue: The Galactic Mental Health Outreach Team\n\nOn planet Zob, all was peaceful.\n\nQuark reached her tentacle out to the blue button and engaged the orbital telescope for another day of sky scanning. In the whiter than white observation room her view-screen flickered to life and stars filled the view in front of her. She checked the records. Yes, she was still on the Orion arm, and had been for the past twenty-three years, now scanning at 25,000 light years from the galactic centre. Closing in, she picked out the planets and one by one they came up on the screen as she searched them for life.\n\n\"Dead... rock... sulphuric acid... dead... dead... rock... rock.... OOH LIFE!\" She focused the telescope in on the new planet, looking for life forms.\n\n\"Hmm, microbes...\" It was monotonous work at times, but every century or so, she would find a planet to work with. On she went, looking for planets.\n\n\"Dead... rock... rock... rock... OOH LIFE!\" Once more she scanned in closer. It looked positive: an unusual atmosphere, water in its liquid form. In she went with the zoom, to the seas first; that was where life usually began.\n\n\"Oooh, big life!\" In the oceans she spotted large aliens, swimming below the surface. It was always fascinating to see what kind of weird life forms there would be; there were always surprises. The computer scanned the oceans for signs of civilisation. The screen reported no signs.\n\nOn to the land masses. The telescope panned up onto a beach. It looked hostile, mostly barren rocks. Then, next to the beach, there were static life forms, lots of them, all a curious shade of green. Onwards she moved with the scope. Then there was moving life, strange creatures with four legs standing staring vacantly at the ground and feeding on the green static aliens. It was encouraging, but still no civilisation.\n\nShe panned northwards, inland, and then they appeared. Rectangular forms of strange rock, breaking out amongst the static aliens, upwards to the eerie blue sky. She had at last found another civilisation.\n\nShe began her assessment of the planet. Very soon she found different, tall, thin aliens which emerged from the structures and roamed freely around the planet's surface. They looked like the predominant life form. She zoomed in on random positions around the surface of the planet and there they were, at every corner, like tiny Zob-ants scurrying around in their insignificant little world.\n\nShe watched them. For the next five days she observed their every move, their feeding patterns, their social behaviour, their mating rituals, their technology, their groups, their transport and their environment. The more she observed, the more she realised she had found what she was searching for. This time it was big. This planet had to be looked at.\n\nDr Zab sat in his office. With one tentacle he stroked his beard, and with his other he held his pipe, puffing out rings of purple smoke. It was a habit he enjoyed; he found the silence helped to crack the puzzles in the minds of his clients. He gazed out of his office window across the beautiful milky ooze. Two of his eyes watched the ooze while his middle eye gazed up in contemplation of his work. There was a knock at the door.\n\n\"Come in Quark.\"\n\nQuark entered bearing an expression that Dr Zab immediately recognised as one of the gravest urgency.\n\n\"My God Quark, what is it?!\"\n\n\"A planet sir, in the Orion arm. It's, well, it's serious sir. I think you should take a look.\"\n\nZab shuffled out after Quark to the observation room.\n\nQuark sat before the screen and operated the buttons. Zab polished his spectacles before leaning over Quark's shoulder to scrutinise the images of the new planet.\n\nIt was a scene of the worst carnage. Irrational behaviour on a global scale: violence, murders between species, and murders within the dominant species. Some of the dominant species were dying of hunger and the global ecosystem was on the verge of collapse. It pained Dr Zab to see the images, but he had to know the truth.\n\n\"I've seen enough. You know what we are witnessing don't you Quark?\"\n\nQuark was feeling anxious. \"I think so sir.\"\n\n\"Yes.\" Zab paused at the thought of it. \"It's... a Class 5... a g _lobal catastrophic disorder_.\" The very words filled the room with a deathly hush. \"We have to act. I will notify Professor Dayv, you alert the crew, and prepare the ship.\"\n\nIn Zab's office the view-screen flashed to life and Professor Dayv answered the call in his pyjamas.\n\n\"Yes Dr Zab, what is it?\"\n\n\"We have a global catastrophic disorder sir in the Orion arm. I am sending you the pictures through.\"\n\n\"I see,\" said Dayv.\n\n\"We are going to dispatch the Galactic Mental Health Outreach Team. I don't think we can afford to delay.\"\n\n\"Very well Dr Zab. If it's a GCD, we have no choice. Take the appropriate action and report to me after you have made contact with the aliens.\"\n\n\"Yes Sir.\" Zab, switched the screen off and prepared for the launch.\n\nThe links to share and discuss this book on Facebook and Twitter are at::\n\nwww.TheShrinkFromPlanetZob.com.\n\n#  1 The Sectioning\n\nThe saucers waited for their crews, hovering in the air. With _Galactic Mental Health Outreach Team_ stencilled on to the ships' hulls, the 217 vessels powered up and blasted off on their journey to the Orion arm.\n\nSeveral years later the ships arrived. They remained cloaked, invisible to the alien planet below, while they took their positions, hovering above key cities.\n\nDr Zab sat on the bridge of the control ship and held the tip of his tentacle over the purple button. In a second he would press it, de-cloak the ships and make his announcement to the aliens on this strange new world. The thought of it always made him shudder. He eyed up the black panic button, guessing he might be needing that one too. He swallowed hard, cleared his throat and pressed the purple button.\n\nIn an instant, all 217 ships de-cloaked. The aliens looked to the skies, and in the calmest voice he could muster, Dr Zab addressed the throngs below.\n\n\"People of Earth, your attention please. My Name is Dr Zab from the planet Zob. I am your planet's psychiatrist. It is my duty to inform you that your species, _Homo sapiens,_ is being taken into compulsory care under Section 1 of the Galactic Mental Health Act. This is being done for the safety of your species, and of the species around you.\"\n\nHe flicked his tentacle to the black panic button. In perfect unison, nearly 7 billion _Homo sapiens_ erupted into mass hysteria. Zab pressed the black button.\n\nTime, for planet Earth, stopped. The city streets were filled with human statues, the skies dotted with stationary aircraft. Children were fixed in mid play. Drinks, cars, the wind, leaves on trees, dogs, seas and bullets all stopped dead, recording the moment when the Zobians came to Earth.\n\nQuark looked over to Dr Zab.\n\n\"Yes Quark, I know. I feared this would happen. We have no choice now but to continue with our job. It won't be easy; this alien is seriously ill.\"\n\n## Why We Don't Go to Therapy\n\nOkay, while the Zobians are holding planet Earth in stasis, let's consider the process which drove them to section the entire human race.\n\nDr Zab and his team are unusual psychiatrists. As we saw, they observe other worlds looking for signs of mental illness. When they found our planet, they found what they were looking for.\n\nThe Zobians are more advanced than our species and they look with different eyes at _Homo sapiens_. How would our world look if a perfectly mentally healthy and completely rigorous alien psychiatrist was observing us? What would be different in their eyes than in ours?\n\nWhen we are mentally ill, it is very difficult to be objective about the state of our mental health. This is why psychiatrists have their use – they are psychiatrists _because_ _they are not us_. They have an external objective viewpoint which they use to see the truth of what we are. Normally it is difficult, or perhaps impossible for us to do this for ourselves. For example, when we are deluded, we will usually have no grasp of the fact that we are deluded. We think our delusions are real. In fact, most mentally ill people perceive themselves as mentally healthy, and that is one of the delusions they have.\n\nThis is one of the problems in mental health; that the ill people think they are healthy. It is for this reason that most ill people do not turn to a therapist: they think therapists are only for the other people – the ill ones. So on our planet it is the rare few people who voluntarily go to see a therapist.\n\nAnother reason that people don't usually go to a therapist voluntarily is that psychiatry often has a frightening presence, and it is true that for many people the experience of mental illness and sometimes its treatment are utterly terrifying. Psychiatry conjures up images of bizarre lunatics wandering the streets in bewilderment, talking to empty spaces. We imagine psychotic axe murderers, intent on killing people because God told them to do it, or we may think of the prospect of being told we are mad and being put into a straight jacket, struggling to escape, and being drugged against our will. Images of being strapped to a hospital bed and being given electro-convulsive therapy may float into our minds. None of this is pleasant to contemplate, and these extreme aspects of mental illness can scare us away from the whole idea of psychiatry. It's far more pleasant to go down the pub instead, or watch telly and keep these disturbing thoughts at bay.\n\nAnother important reason why people usually don't go into therapy is that _therapy is all about truth_. The therapist will put their clients' minds under scrutiny, looking for flaws in perception. To admit to being at fault is an uninviting prospect, so strong is our fear of embarrassment – the therapist might tell us we are wrong, and that's just not nice. More worryingly for a prospective client, is that the therapist will also look into their moral behaviour. They are certain to see the truth of our actions and potentially expose our dark side. Instinctively, we know that therapy will catch us out – it might expose the truth, and so we usually steer well clear of that truth-revealing process.\n\nFinally, there is another reason which can explain why people often don't go to a therapist. It has to do with social esteem. If we go to a therapist, the implication is that we are ill: we instinctively feel that to become a client means to be worthless, powerless, and useless, somehow low down with respect to our peers. Deep inside us, we spot this label of worthlessness, and we don't like it. There is a sense of shame which we might feel. For reasons which we will look at in later chapters, we fight violently to avoid slipping down the ladder of social esteem. If we go to a therapist, the implication is that we are low down on the ladder (or at least that's how it feels).\n\nFor these reasons, and possibly others, we don't usually go to therapists, we don't usually read books on therapy, and we don't usually look inside our own minds. Most of us don't really like therapy.\n\nGiven that there is so much fear surrounding the idea of therapy, it follows that the people who _do_ enter therapy are notable not for their weaknesses, but rather for their exceptional courage. People who don't run away from therapy are the people who want to grow, and become healthy.\n\n## What Do Mentally Ill People Look Like?\n\nOn Earth, most of us are not experienced in identifying mentally ill people. We have ideas that they might dress bizarrely, or talk to themselves, or be in some way a dangerous threat. Often our preconceptions about what an ill person looks like are naive at best, but more usually plain wrong.\n\nI would be a good illustration of this. If you were to meet me, you wouldn't think much. I seem to be a pretty ordinary person, I dress averagely, and I don't behave oddly. But the people who only know me a little are completely unaware of my experiences with mental illness. When I counted up the mental problems which I have experienced I got to around twenty-six They have varied in severity, but include: neurosis, depression, break down, mania, compulsion, obsession, delusion, denial, paranoia, suicidal thoughts, information overload, serendipity, synchronicity, psychosis, hallucination, narcissism, personality disorder, severe anger, sleep problems, persecution, alcoholism, stress and anxiety, panic attacks, theomania and social anxiety. And these are only the disorders which I have been aware of! There may be more lurking away in my psyche which I have yet to find. When listed like this, the reader may question whether this book has been written by a complete crazy man ! But I will refer to some of these ailments again throughout the book and shed a little light on how they came into being and how I have dealt with them. The point is that, on the outside, I look like a fairly ordinary man. People may have _perceived_ me as generally sane, but the truth is I have had all kinds of mental disorders.\n\nWe often overlook something very obvious when we are deciding if someone is mentally ill, and that is that the illness is on the inside – _in the mind!_ Mental illness does sometimes have outward physical manifestations, and it is true that someone with psychosis, say, may behave oddly. But how do we tell from looking at someone if they are, say, neurotic? It isn't always obvious. It takes a great deal of experience to spot some mental illnesses, which is why we need psychiatrists. But even after much reading and training, and close contact with their clients, many psychiatrists still make mistakes in reaching a diagnosis. If the experts make mistakes, the lay person should be especially cautious before diagnosing people.\n\nThroughout this book we will find many examples of how people who look 'normal' may be suffering from mental disorders. We will also find examples of people that we think are insane, who are not as crazy as we thought.\n\n## Who Should Be Sectioned?\n\nIn the UK, if a person's mental illness is causing significant safety risks for the individual or for others, the authorities are permitted by law to take the individual into compulsory care, against their will, if necessary. Being taken into compulsory mental care is called being 'sectioned' which derives from the sections of the British Mental Health Act 1983 which provide the legal power to take a person into care. The Act's guidelines for doctors state that the patient must be \"...suffering from a mental disorder of a nature or degree which warrants the detention of the patient in a hospital for assessment or treatment for at least a limited period... [and that the patient] ...ought to be detained in the interests of [the patient's] own health or safety or with a view to the protection of other people\".\n\nThe British law defines disorders as \"any disorder or disability of mind\". This definition includes conditions such as schizophrenia, depression, bipolar affective disorder, anxiety disorder, obsessive-compulsive disorder, eating disorders, personality disorders, autistic-spectrum disorders, organic disorders such as dementia, behavioural changes due to brain injury and mental disorders due to drug use. The definition covers learning disabilities only where they are associated with \"abnormally aggressive\" or \"seriously irresponsible behaviour\".\n\nThe Zobians have similar guidelines in their Galactic Mental Health Act. They look at what they call _global catastrophic disorder,_ or _GCD -_ a complex planet-wide illness resulting from the accumulation of mental health disorders in individuals. So why did the Zobians decide to section the entire human race? It seems a bit unfair when most of us appear to be sane.\n\nThe Zobians have a wider scope to their mental health work. They also refer their work to a benchmark of _absolute_ truth. They strive to promote _absolute_ mental health – mental perfection: to be free of all disorders. In this they differ somewhat from Earth psychiatrists.\n\nLet's compare their Galactic Mental Health Act with the British Mental Health Act. Remember the Earth Act grants permission to detain a patient for the \"protection of other people.\" But the Galactic Mental Health Act goes further; it grants permission to detain a species \"with a view to the protection of other life\". Looked at like this we can see the British Mental Health Act itself has a degree of mental ill health within it. Where our Earth act defends the safety of only _people_ instead of _all life_ , it is taking a _narcissistic_ stance.\n\nThe following symptoms of _narcissistic personality disorder_ , as listed by Earth psychiatrists, show how a typical _Homo sapien_ would fit into this diagnosis, if we use the Zobian Act:\n\n**\\- Grandiosity.** They will think they are above all others around them. Since the Earth Mental Health Act does not consider all others (all _life)_ many of our human activities are clearly grandiose and so probably narcissistic.\n\n**\\- Lack of empathy.** Again, humans often lack empathy towards other life.\n\n**\\- Fantasies of unlimited success – omnipotence.** The way humans are treating our planet at present, certainly suggests this.\n\n\\- **Feelings of being special or unique.** Where the Earth act leaves out the rest of life from the list of victims of the person to be sectioned, it is saying _Homo sapiens_ is somehow special. Again this is narcissistic.\n\n**\\- Feels entitled to priority treatment.** This is a ubiquitous trait of the human. For example, many religions hold the opinion that humans are entitled to priority treatment from God.\n\nOur Earth Mental Health Act is serving our species but _only_ our species in a blindly selfish, narcissistic manner. It follows that the people who created our law (which determines who is dangerously mentally ill) must themselves have been suffering from the disorder of narcissism. Taking the Zobian benchmark of absolute truth and absolute mental health, we are forced to conclude that the people who made that most fundamental mental health law, themselves had a degree of mental illness. No doubt the people who created the law perceived themselves as mentally healthy. It follows, then, that they are also slightly delusional.\n\nSo here we have found some evidence of mental illness in _Homo sapiens_ , and it exists in the fundamental legal definition of who is dangerously mentally ill, written by people who perceived themselves as well. This may at first sight seem impossibly unlikely. But when we put aside our preconceptions and follow, as rigorously as we can, absolute truth, we have no choice but to concede this is right.\n\nThe Zobians, then, have their rigorous benchmark, their Galactic Mental Health Act, which protects all life from harm. How did our civilisation compare to their benchmark?\n\nAll human activity is caused by one thing – the human mind. Everything we do is first motivated by a conscious will inside an individual, be that the will of the president of America, or the man wielding the chainsaw, or the nurse caring for the patient, or the teacher passing on truths and falsehoods. All the joy we generate or all the suffering we cause is created by the mind. Looking at our planet, we have no choice than to admit there are enormous global problems ahead of us – for the environment, world poverty, for peace, for animal welfare and for religious unity. And every one of those problems is a matter of mind. We will see that the Zobians were quite correct in sectioning the human race. Most, if not all, suffering on earth is caused by mental disorders, and as such it was the duty of the Zobians to step in, to heal our disorders, and to eliminate suffering.\n\nBefore we go on, the reader should know that our fictional story offers more than just a little light relief. I believe that if we were to adopt the Galactic Mental health Act it would be a genuine improvement on the Earth Act. I also intend the illness _global catastrophic disorder_ to be adopted by the wider psychiatric community as a term which describes the true levels of mental disorder on our planet - mental disorder which leads to suffering on a global scale.\n\nMeanwhile, back on planet Zob...\n\nProfessor Dayv was preparing for the Feast of Zarrablast, and being the sort who enjoyed his world's ancient traditions, he made sure he wrapped a furry garchin-worm around each sleeve. He was settling in the second worm, when the call came on his viewer.\n\n\"Happy Zarrablast Dr Zab.\" He greeted the doctor warmly.\n\n\"Happy Zarrablast Professor,\" said Zab. \"We've made first contact. I'm afraid the aliens weren't receptive to our arrival. We informed them that they were being sectioned, but the situation became critical in 2.53 seconds. We are holding them in stasis while we decide on the best form of therapy.\"\n\n\"Not receptive eh? Hmm, that is a problem, I saw it once before on Wambaroo 5, a challenge indeed. I will consult the brains.\" Professor Dayv's three eyes rolled up and crossed somewhere in the middle, and for a few seconds he sat trembling slightly as a small dribble emerged from his mouth. Across the ether his mind merged with several thousand of Zob's most acclaimed psychiatrists. Very soon normal consciousness resumed and the Professor had his answer.\n\n\"Meme therapy.\" He concluded.\n\n\"Meme therapy?\" said Zab. \"I see. Well we can't inject the memes ourselves; that would be in breach of the Free Will Directive. We will have to find a host to carry them.\"\n\n\"Agreed.\" Dayv nodded sagely. \"Find your carrier, but it will have to be an alien of the most ordinary kind. You must avoid any politicians, or celebrities. Scan the planet and when you have identified the least notable _Homo sapien_ , carry on with the therapy.\"\n\n\"I'll get right on it,\" said Zab.\n\n\"Good Zobian. Keep me updated. Now then Petunia...\" Professor Dayv fed his worms with fnark roots dipped in gorm cheese.\n\nQuark was waiting at the door.\n\n\"Quark, scan the planet. We need to find _Homo ordinarius_...\"\n\nThe links to share and discuss this book on Facebook and Twitter are at::\n\nwww.TheShrinkFromPlanetZob.com.\n\n#  2 The World's Most Ordinary Homo Sapien\n\nQuark had finished her scan of the _Homo sapiens_ , and had identified a carrier. Dr Zab entered the room. The view-screen was showing planet Earth, still frozen in time.\n\n\"Dr Zab, we have found someone we think could make a suitable host. He is living on this island here, in the northern hemisphere.\" She waved a tentacle at the view-screen, picking out the island of Great Britain. Then she zoomed in on the land mass. \"There is a small town on the eastern seaboard sir, the inhabitants call it 'Great Yarmouth'.\" She zoomed in further on the town, isolating a single street. \"This is a route for vehicles, it's called Seafield Close.\" The individual houses came into view. \"And this is his dwelling structure - number 221b.\" The zoom took them inside the house to the kitchen. There was a family sitting around a table: a man and a woman, a girl and boy, all frozen in stasis, caught in the middle of their evening meal of fish and chips. The man held a fork to his mouth bearing mushy peas, the woman was pushing a dog down from the table, and the children were staring up at the ceiling. All of them bore expressions of shock, caught like photos in the moment when the Zobians had spoken to Earth.\n\nQuark pointed to the screen. \"This one here is the male. He is the mate of this female here, and these small aliens are their young. The male adult is the carrier. His name is Manitee.\"\n\n\"Good work Quark. He really is impressively ordinary. Have you generated a clone?\"\n\n\"Yes sir. He's in the transporter room now. We've transferred the brain data from Manitee to the clone already sir; he's ready for the exchange.\"\n\n\"Excellent. Make the exchange, wipe the memory of our arrival from the _Homo sapiens'_ minds, cloak the ships and lift the stasis.\"\n\nDr Zab returned to his office. Quark pressed a button. The transporter droned and Manitee and his clone faded softly out of sight. Seconds later they faded back – Manitee in the transporter room and his clone taking position at the kitchen table, sitting just as Manitee had been, ready with a fork full of mushy peas.\n\nThen another button, a red one. The ships around the world flashed a blinding white light down to the planet, and the memories of the Zobians' arrival were wiped from nearly 7 billion minds. Quark pressed the small lilac button, three across and two down from the red button, and the Zobian ships were cloaked again. Finally, she pressed the black button once more, and the stasis was lifted. The world carried on just as if nothing had happened. The wind blew and birds continued to fly. The city streets filled once again with bustling life. Children played, the ocean waves crashed to the shores, chainsaws buzzed, and the bullets that had waited, headed for their targets.\n\nIn Manitee's kitchen, the clone and the family came to life. He shouted at the dog, and his wife smiled. He ate his mushy peas.\n\nIn the transporter room, the real Manitee was still in stasis.\n\nZab and Quark looked at Manitee and looked at each other. Zab mentally prepared his welcoming words and Quark pressed a button. Manitee was brought out of stasis.\n\nHis eyes blinked. He looked at his hand raised before him and for a brief moment thought \"Where the hell have my mushy peas gone?\"\n\nHe looked up, down and sideways to where Zab and Quark were standing smiling.\n\nWith a spluttering animal like squeal he jumped up in the air and fell over backwards into the wall. \"WHAT THE ****?!!!\"\n\nHe scrabbled at the walls, trying to carve an escape route and, failing, pushed himself into a corner with his feet. \"WHAT THE ****?!!!\"\n\nDr Zab saw the need to reassure Manitee. It was clearly a shocking experience, so he tried to sound calming.\n\n\"Good evening Mr Manitee. I am doctor Zab. I'm here to help you.\"\n\nManitee stared wide-eyed at Zab, then at Quark, then back to Zab and back to Quark. He paused for a moment then continued with what he was trying to say, \"WHAT THE ****?!!!\"\n\n\"It's all right Mr Manitee, you're in safe hands. I'm a psychiatrist. I've come to your planet to help you.\"\n\nThere was no calming Manitee. Zab looked to Quark and nodded. Quark operated a console. With a gentle whine a silver syringe materialised next to Manitee's arm, it penetrated his skin and injected him with a drug. Instantly Manitee became calm, and he sat in the corner with an expression which shifted slightly from utterly terrified to merely stunned.\n\n\"I hope that's better Mr Manitee. Do you feel more relaxed?\"\n\nManitee stared for a few seconds at Zab then gave a meek nod.\n\nZab continued in his most reassuring tones. \"As I said, I am your planet's psychiatrist. Your planet is unwell and we have come to pay a house call to you to help you through some difficult times. I am very sorry we had to take you in against your will, but you see it was quite urgent. We watched your planet and saw a great deal of unnecessary suffering. We think we can help you overcome your problems if you will work with us in a therapeutic relationship.\" He smiled a kindly smile.\n\nManitee carried on staring, and slowly managed to string a few words. \"Who... are... you...?\"\n\n\"My name is Dr Zab from the planet Zob.\"\n\nManitee paused again and said, half squinting, \"Dr _Zab?!_ From planet _Zob?!\"_\n\n\"Yes, that's right.\"\n\n\"Zab...?! From Zob...?!\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\nManitee blinked and considered it. \"You're making it up.\"\n\nZab tried not to look indignant.\n\n\"No, Mr Manitee. That is my real name. But I don't want to be too formal, I want us to be friends, you can just call me Zab. Do you have a friendly name you would like to use, or shall I call you Mr Manitee?\"\n\nManitee was still deeply unsettled. \"Hugh.\" He whispered.\n\n\"Hugh?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Hugh... Manitee?\"\n\n\"That's right.\"\n\n\"Hmm.\" Now Zab thought it was Hugh who was making it up, but he was too polite to say. \"Very... serendipitous.\" He said under his breath.\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Oh, nothing.\" Said Zab. \"We'll come on to that later. Well Hugh, we are going to help you. We are going to talk and find a way to improve your planet. We can't let you back to Earth just yet, but your family and your world are fine. We have a nice room ready for your stay here. Why don't you let Quark, our nurse, show you to your quarters? Have a little time to yourself. There are things in your room to keep you busy: films and music, games. If you like, Quark can show you how to weave a basket. I will see you tomorrow morning at ten for our first session.\"\n\nHugh was still quiet and overawed. He nodded a small nod, and Quark took him to his room.\n\nThe prospect of being brought into compulsory care is a frightening one for sure, but it is a reality which a few people have to face. This happened to a man with schizophrenia, who we will call Danny, who has been sectioned three times. He described one psychotic episode he had as \"really, really scary\", and the whole sectioning process was traumatic for him. It is not uncommon for a patient to believe that they are well, even when it is clear to the medical staff that the opposite is true. The patient may feel confused, terrified and very angry about the whole process. And many patients do fight the process. Sometimes the police are used to forcibly take a patient into care. The British pop singer Adam Ant said of his experience of being sectioned: \"When I was sectioned for six months, that was one of the worst experiences of my life, not being able to go out and have freedom. Having experienced it, it's almost inexplicably awful.\"1 Although others may feel a sense of relief. On balance, what we saw in the sectioning of Hugh Manitee is a quite likely reaction. In healing the psyche of Hugh Manitee, the first obstacle an alien psychiatrist will face will be this terror and confusion.\n\n## Information Overload\n\nIn our story, Hugh is faced with another great challenge, from the very start of his work with Dr Zab: _information overload._ Our minds are accustomed to the environment which they grew up in; we know how to cope with what is familiar to us. But occasionally for some people, a great deal of radically different information can arrive all at once, and this can create a problem. Naturally for Hugh, being beamed up by aliens was an enormous shock to his system, and so his first reaction to the Zobians was to experience information overload.\n\nI had to face information overload myself in the year 2002. I am unable to go into the details of the information involved, but in a very short space of time I acquired a vast amount of knowledge which conflicted dramatically with my previous understanding. In a short period of time I pieced together fragments of information from reading people's body language and through research in places like the Internet. Each time a new piece of the jigsaw slotted into place, my mind would go into a spin. I remember searching the Internet compulsively; I was obsessed with getting to the truth, but at the same time I was scaring myself. The more I looked, the more I found, until eventually the information started to affect my mental health. I recall sitting at the computer and feeling my heart starting to pound as I got closer to the truth I was looking for. I remember also wandering around aimlessly, staring blankly into the air while my mind was struggling to process all the new information. I was on the verge of a mental breakdown.\n\nBy a convoluted serendipity I met a counsellor who advised me that I needed to talk to someone, to \"flush away\" all the problems which were swimming around my mind.\n\nI mentioned previously that I had mental health problems as a teenager, my neurosis. In 1988 that led on to a break down and depression. By 2002 I had developed a pro-active approach to my own mental health, and as it seemed like I may be on the verge of another break down, I referred myself to a psychiatrist.\n\nI met with a Community Psychiatric Nurse (CPN) for an initial assessment. It was difficult for me to explain why I was there; I couldn't relate all I knew, but I told him there had been many impossibly unlikely coincidences. It was a kind of avalanche of spiritual awakening which lead to a form of information overload.\n\n\"Serendipity.\" He stated, with a firmness.\n\nIt was a word I had already come across, and I had learned to be wary of it. Jokingly, I put my fingers in my ears and made an \" _eeee\"_ noise, trying not to hear, but that only served to make me look even more crazy! The CPN referred me to a psychiatrist, let's call her Dr Janet. \" _Not_ because I think you are mad,\" he immediately added, trying to prevent me from becoming even more scared.\n\nAt the time, I had a number of issues to discuss with the psychiatrist, but we did look at the information overload. We didn't discuss it for long, but she said it was like plugging your radio into an overhead power line: it doesn't do your radio much good! Knowing that it was natural that a mind should start to crumble if overloaded made it easier to cope with, and it made me feel less 'mad'.\n\nI struggled to talk about the information overload with the psychiatrist. This was partly because the information I had was so outrageously weird, that I feared he might think I was making it up, and might diagnose me as psychotic. This was a great fear for me, so I held a lot back. I also soon realised that my psychiatrist was an ordinary person too, and that the extreme information I wanted to discuss might damage even her. For my psychiatrist's mental health I had to keep things to myself. The spiritual insights I had gained were all in the public domain, but I had found them all at once so the sudden clarity was a lot to assimilate. I didn't want to risk her misunderstanding. It was a rather unpleasant situation; I was told I needed to talk about it to avoid going mad, and at the same time I realised I couldn't talk about it at all. This contributed to the enormous stress I was experiencing.\n\nLooking back now, it is clear to me how information overload comes about. The neurons in our brain develop over the years, making connections between them which map out our experiences in the real world. It is a slow process, and creates a mental map which is 'hard wired' to reflect a person's experiences. When radically new information comes along, the hard wired map does not have the necessary connections to process that new information – the neurons have no idea of where or when to fire and the whole process can collapse completely, creating a mental breakdown. It is not surprising that information overload feels painful, when the neurons in the brain are literally being ripped apart.\n\nA cure for people who experience information overload is called being _conditioned_. In time, those neurons which previously couldn't cope will change their connections and find patterns which can deal with the new information.\n\nI don't worry now about the spiritual information in my mind, although it is still there. Most of the time I don't think about it. It only becomes a problem when I connect with other people. I can't tell them everything, partly as they would think I was mad, and partly to protect _their_ minds from information overload.\n\nOn balance, I have gained from the experience of information overload, although it was a struggle, and quite disorientating. Mental health is all about getting closer to truth, to reality, and in reality, the information overload process brings us closer to the truth – but getting closer too fast.\n\nThere is a slight paradox here: information overload can be seen as a mental illness, but in truth, it is the people who have gone through it who have often grown a great deal; their mental maps may have become more expansive and accurate (at least on one particular issue). It is the _rate_ of growth which is the problem, but the end product of information overload can be a more mentally healthy individual. We can see here another blurred line between what constitutes mental illness or mental health. In this case, the ones who have experienced the illness can become healthier than people who have not had the illness.\n\nThe reason why people experience information overload is the same reason why therapy has to be a slow process, taking months or even years. The purpose of therapy is to take the mental map of the client, examine it, find flaws and to rebuild it in a different pattern, which more closely reflects reality and good morality. And the map (the links between the neurons in the brain) physically can't rewire itself very fast, so the therapist _has_ to take it slow. The therapist will routinely become aware of new truths which the client has yet to learn. It may then become the therapist's duty to hold back the truth for the benefit of the client. The truth will heal the client, but the client has to get the right truths in the right order over an extended period of time. If the therapist reveals too much too soon, the client might get information overload and may even experience a break down.\n\nBack in his quarters, Hugh spent an uncomfortable night. For hours he sat on the corner of his bed staring unblinking at the wall, occasionally saying softly to himself \"What the...?\" In Zab's office, Hugh's monitor showed that his neurons were in a state of high alert and were already starting to reconfigure. In the early hours of the morning he finally fell back onto the bed and had a few hours sleep.\n\nThe links to share and discuss this book on Facebook and Twitter are at::\n\nwww.TheShrinkFromPlanetZob.com.\n\n# 3 The First Session\n\nHugh was still dazed when Quark knocked on the door of his room in the morning. Hugh called her to enter, and Quark invited him to follow her for the first session with Dr Zab. He followed quietly and nervously, staring around at every inch of the ship's corridors.\n\nThey arrived at Dr Zab's consulting room.\n\n\"Ah good morning Hugh, do come in, take a seat.\" said Zab.\n\nHugh nodded slightly, stared around trying to get his bearings, then sat on the comfy chair opposite to where Zab was sitting. Quark left them to their work.\n\n\"So, Hugh, I hope you had a decent night's sleep. I expect this is all quite an upheaval for you, but I think when we get to know each other we will get on. Are you ready to tell me about you and your planet?\"\n\nHugh shook his head and said nothing, shaking slightly.\n\n\"Hmm,\" said Zab as his middle eyebrow furrowed somewhat. \"May I say Hugh, that you appear a little on edge. I guess this is understandable, but perhaps you could tell me if there is anything the matter?\"\n\nHugh stared at Zab and in a trembling voice managed to make a few words.\n\n\"...P-please don't kill me...\"\n\n\"Kill you?!\" said Zab. \"Why on Zob would I want to kill you?\"\n\n\"Because you do... You... Alien... You're an alien...\"\n\n\"Yes, I suppose to you I am an alien, do go on...\"\n\n\"You're an alien... In a flying saucer... Don't kill me... Laser guns... I saw it... I saw it before...\" Hugh was wide eyed.\n\nZab kept his calm demeanour. \"Tell me Hugh, what did you see?\"\n\n\"I saw you... Killing people... Earthlings... Abducting people... Taking people away... Doing experiments... Removing their brains... Please don't hurt me... Please don't kill my planet... Please don't take my brain...\"\n\n\"Hugh. I don't think that ever happened. What made you think we were going to harm you? Where did you get this idea?\"\n\n\"I saw it...\"\n\n\"Where?\"\n\nHugh paused. In his unconscious something was rattling around which wasn't fitting, but he wasn't sure what it was. Eventually he remembered where he had seen aliens before.\n\n\"Star Trek.\"\n\n## Transference\n\nHugh had preconceptions about what an alien was, and clearly in this story his preconceptions didn't match reality, since Dr Zab was a friendly alien, there to help humanity. This type of mismatch between Hugh's mind and the actual reality is known to therapists as _transference._\n\nTransference was first identified by Sigmund Freud. It describes how desires or anxieties learned in one place are transferred onto a new object at some later time. An example of transference could be found in how a person relates to authority figures. For example, if a boy has been beaten by his father, he may find that in later life when he meets male authority figures, a chord is struck and those deep emotions of fear may be rekindled. In his later experiences with authority these emotions become inappropriate since the new authority figure will quite likely pose no threat.\n\nIn our story, Hugh was transferring his preconceptions about aliens from his past, when he watched films with strange, dangerous monsters. His old mental map told him aliens were a threat, and when he met the kindly alien Dr Zab his map was out of date. But he clung on to his old map, and the result was transference. The situation between Hugh and Dr Zab is actually somewhat realistic, for a therapist will often identify transference in how the client relates to them. The therapist represents an authority figure, which may generate transference in clients who have had poor experiences with authority figures in their past. Between Hugh and Dr Zab, the transferred feelings are of fear, but a therapist may generate other deeply embedded feelings including erotic attraction, rage, hatred, mistrust, extreme dependence, or the patient may place the therapist on a pillar as a god-like guru.\n\nWorking through a client's transference is of great importance in the therapeutic relationship. If the client harbours an inappropriate feeling towards the therapist, this may be analysed and can provide clues about feelings towards other people from the client's past, thereby having a therapeutic benefit.\n\nIn therapy, it is common for a client to experience difficulty in overcoming transference, clinging stubbornly to their old mental map. This presents a _resistance_ to therapy, a key phenomenon in the therapeutic process which will be discussed in greater depth in coming chapters.\n\n## Trust\n\nThe other issue which is highlighted in the first session between Hugh and Dr Zab is one of trust.\n\nWe saw that Hugh didn't trust the doctor at first, and this is an obstacle which the therapist has to deal with early on for therapy to take place. It may be an issue of transference: the client may have been badly treated by someone in the past which may transfer to become a lack of trust towards the therapist.\n\nIf the client doesn't trust the therapist then a lot of things which the therapist says are likely to be rejected by the client. If the client perceives the therapist as a threatening liar there is a twisted logic inside the client's mind which concludes that anything the therapist says may be a lie designed to cause harm to the client. The client can think that the therapist is _bound_ to lie. This is a difficult hurdle to overcome, but the therapist can work on it by continuing to demonstrate complete _congruence_ in relating to the client. If the therapist shows for an instant that their words, their opinions or actions are not in agreement, the client can lose their trust. The therapist must also demonstrate continually that they are there to support the client by showing _unconditional positive regard_. Whatever shocking stories the client may come up with, the therapist has to continue to show that they want the best for the client and that they have ongoing faith that the client can grow towards better health.\n\nHere, we have touched on some themes which are fundamental to the branch of psychiatry known as _person centred therapy._ This is a talking therapy between a therapist and a client, throughout which the therapist must strive to demonstrate three key disciplines: congruence, unconditional positive regard and empathy. The need for the therapist to empathise with the client is fundamental to the process. The therapist needs to fully understand the feelings which are often hidden deep inside the client's mind.\n\n## Who Are the Real Therapists?\n\nPsychiatrists recognise that people who have had mental illnesses can, in fact, take up pretty much any type of work at all. Even Sigmund Freud himself had depression and probably a form of psychosis.\n\nAs I mentioned previously, therapy is all about bringing the client's mind closer to reality, to help them navigate life in such a way as to maximise joy, and reduce suffering. In assessing what exactly is a therapist, we have to look at the _reality_ , not what we see in a book or learn on a course. The strict reality of what happens in a therapeutic relationship is that one person acts to improve another person's mental map, which they go on to use to have a better life. This is the _true_ meaning of therapy. A therapist is not only a person who has received formal training and is paid for their services. In fact, there are many accredited therapists who are actively damaging to the mental health of their clients, as we shall see shortly. It follows that most or all of us have the ability to be therapists, so long as we are passing on useful information to improve another person's map, to help them navigate their life.\n\nTo provide therapy, the therapist must have a more accurate or expansive mental map than the client, at least relating to some important aspects of life. If the therapist has a delusion, say, they may perceive that as real, and be inclined to persuade the client to believe the delusion as well: if the therapist has a mental illness, they may make the client ill too. This is why it is part of the training for therapists, to go through therapy themselves, before they begin to treat clients.\n\nUntil a person has inside their mind a complete map of the entire universe which is perfectly accurate, the growth process towards truth will never end. And a mental map can never describe everything that exists, so therapy is never fully complete. Likewise it never ends for the therapist as no therapist has such a perfect mental map. So the therapist's mental map has to be continually improved, and to do this the therapist is also expected to receive intermittent counselling from a supervisor, throughout his or her career. In our story, Dr Zab receives supervision from Professor Dayv, who in turn is guided by the brains. On Earth we have a similar chain of therapists, from the psychological researchers who collaborate around the world, down through the supervisors, the therapists, their clients and so on in a chain. But the therapy doesn't stop with the client. The client will go out into their lives talking to people, and so pass on the wisdom they gained in their therapy. The client often can become the therapist for the people they know. On and on go the therapeutic truths, by word of mouth, in the written word, and in the media.\n\nHugh was still rather bewildered as he sat in the consulting room at the end of the session, watching Dr Zab write in a little note book. The book had a black fabric cover, with a small picture of a gold chalice.\n\nHugh watched with confusion until eventually he asked timidly, \"What are you doing?\"\n\nZab lifted his pen, tugged his beard and looked to Hugh.\n\n\"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm just making notes. I need to remember how the therapy is going when we come back to it next time.\" Zab smiled at Hugh.\n\nHugh was concerned about what was being recorded. \"Can I see it?\" he asked.\n\n\"Urr, well, not just yet. I think we will have to look at the notes when we're a bit more ready.\" He smiled again trying to reassure Hugh that there was nothing to worry about. Hugh remained concerned but was rather too scared to insist on seeing the notes.\n\nThe links to share and discuss this book on Facebook and Twitter are at::\n\nwww.TheShrinkFromPlanetZob.com.\n\n# 4 The Spectre of Resistance\n\nHugh knocked at Dr Zab's door. Dr Zab called him in, and Hugh took his usual seat.\n\n\"Hello Hugh, how are you feeling today?\" said Zab.\n\n\"Okay.\"\n\n\"Just okay? Anything you would like to discuss?\"\n\n\"No not really.\" Hugh was calm now; he was off his medication. In the past couple of weeks he had become accustomed to the aliens and, after their continuing kindness to him, he had steadily come to think that maybe they weren't going to remove his brain.\n\n\"Okay,\" said Zab \"well, I think there may be some issues to discuss. How do you see your health at the present time?\"\n\n\"I'm fine thanks. I'm really fine. I'm really not bothered about all this, you've got it wrong.\"\n\n\"What do I have wrong Hugh?\"\n\n\"You've got the wrong man. You said you came to Earth to heal me, but you must have made a mistake because I'm fine. I think you should beam me back to my home and beam up someone who's ill.\"\n\n\"Right, well, it's not as straightforward as that. We chose you Hugh because you are the most ordinary _Homo sapien_ on the planet, and we believe that your planet has some health issues which need to be addressed.\"\n\n\"Well, I _am_ normal. I don't hear voices. I'm not some sort of psychotic serial killer. Yes, I'll admit there are loads of nutters on our planet, God knows I've met enough of them, but I'm not a psycho, I'm just a normal bloke. So if you don't mind I'd like you to send me home now, and you can find a real head-case to give your therapy to.\"\n\n\"I'm afraid I can't do that just yet Hugh. I think we should take a look at a few of the issues.\"\n\nDr Zab lifted a tentacle to his panel and operated his ship's telescope. The Earth came up on his view-screen. He flicked a joystick and the view zoomed down to the Earth's surface. He began at Hugh's house, panned down the street and into another house. A man and woman were having an argument. A child was there. The shouting was directed to the child. The man reached out and struck the child across the face.\n\nZab zoomed out, panning across to Eastern Europe, down into a city, to a park bench. Two men were drinking from bottles of vodka. One of them vomited onto the grass. Back out, across Europe and down to the Middle East, to the outskirts of a city in a desert. A woman was tied to a wall. A crowd of men were shouting at her and hurling stones. Out again, Africa came into view, and down again to scrub land, to a village, and inside a small hut. There was a sick child lying in the dust, her stomach distended, with flies on her face and a woman squatting next to her, rocking and weeping.\n\nHugh sat quietly. Zab carried on scanning the planet.\n\nThe view zoomed out, up across the Indian Ocean, to an island and back down. By a track in a jungle, there were loud cracks as men shot at each other. In a stack of flaming tyres there was a human body, burning, it's fingers reaching out. Up again and towards eastern Asia. Down into a large city, to a square, there was a procession of thousands of soldiers all marching in perfect unison, behind them a line of vehicles carrying missiles. Hugh carried on sitting quietly, absorbing the images.\n\nThe images headed north to the Gulf of Mexico, to a town by the coast. There was a storm, the town was being battered, houses ripped apart and boats crashing up onto the land. And then north again into the USA. Down to a city in a southern state. There were people on a march in the streets, shouting and carrying crucifixes. By the sides of the road other people were shouting back at them, angry, and on the verge of violence. And finally he headed north to Canada and into a remote forest wilderness. Amongst the trees there was a loud crack and a deer stumbled to the ground, her hind leg crippled by a bullet.\n\nZab let the final image make its mark on Hugh, and then turned towards him.\n\n\"Well, Hugh?\"\n\n\"Well what?\"\n\n\"How did the images make you feel?\"\n\n\"Well... obviously they weren't nice things, I'm not stupid. The world is full of things like that... but why are you showing them to me? What's the point?\"\n\nZab could see how Hugh's mind was working. \"You see Hugh, all these things have a great deal to do with you.\"\n\n\"No, they don't. They're all people I don't know. They have nothing to do with me at all. I live in England. I'm just an ordinary bloke. If you want to find anyone to blame you should look at the politicians. There's no point talking to me. You've got the wrong man.\"\n\n\"No Hugh, we have the right man. All these problems have a lot to do with you.\"\n\n\"No they don't. Anyway, we can deal with it thank you very much. We don't need you.\"\n\nZab breathed out a slow, frustrated breath over his slavering  lips.\n\n##  Recognising the Problem - Resistance\n\nIt is something of a cliché, but it is often said by therapists that the first step in healing a client is that the client has to recognise there is a problem. And here Dr Zab is confronting Hugh with some of the problems which form part of the global catastrophic disorder. But when Hugh is presented with some facts, we see Hugh go into _denial._\n\nDenial is a defence mechanism first postulated by Sigmund Freud, where a person faced with uncomfortable truths may flatly deny the facts, even in the light of overwhelming evidence. Freud's daughter Anna classified denial as a mechanism in an immature mind, presenting problems for learning and dealing with reality. And here Hugh Manitee's mind is as it was before therapy is really underway – immature.\n\nIn studies of the grieving process, the late psychiatrist Elisabeth Kübler-Ross identified that people who were told they were going to die would go through different stages: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and finally acceptance1. The stages do not always occur in every person, or may occur in a different order, but the first of the stages is sometimes denial. These same stages often apply to people who are going through therapeutic changes as well.\n\nHugh is lost at sea, confused. But somewhere deeper in his psyche where he sees the uncomfortable truths which Dr Zab showed him, he has an inkling that this is going to be difficult for him, and he instinctively heads towards denial.\n\nHugh still thinks, or hopes, that Dr Zab is mistaken. But of course Zab's highly developed mental map can see the links between Hugh and the world; Zab _knows_ Hugh is ill, and so he is not easily deflected from his course however strongly Hugh argues with him.\n\nDenial is one of the mechanisms which therapists group together under the term _resistance._ Again, the term was first introduced by Freud to describe an instinctive opposition to having unconscious material brought into the conscious mind. It can take many forms, but may manifest itself in the client criticising the therapist, or failing to listen to or understand the therapist; the client may arrive late or miss appointments, may remain silent, may forget the fee, or the client may drag the discussion down into a debate on semantics or abstract philosophy. There is a myriad array of tactics which a typical client may use to avoid the therapeutic process.\n\nResistance is such a powerful phenomenon, that it is surprising that it is not discussed more often not only in psychology books, but in any book which aims to make the world a better place. To some extent, resistance is so ubiquitous that it may be difficult to see. The thing which people are resistant to is _truth._ The resistance phenomenon is usually to defend our mental maps, which in turn is powered by our genetic make-up . We will learn more about the genetic causes of resistance in coming chapters.\n\nIf it wasn't for psychological resistance, therapy could be completed in a matter of days or weeks rather than months or years. Therapists have a stock piece of advice for their clients to try to dissolve some resistance, advice which is so valuable it has become another cliché. It is: _you have to want to change._ If the client doesn't want to change then therapy cannot take place. What we see in Hugh's reaction to the unpleasant truths of the world is a typical response from ordinary people, when confronted with those truths. People often don't want to change, which is why healing the world is such an enormous task.\n\nIn our story, when Dr Zab confronts Hugh with the realities of the GCD, the therapy is still in an early stage, and Hugh's mental map is still faulty. His neurons have never been programmed to see the link between his actions in his ordinary world in Great Yarmouth and global problems such as poverty or climate change. Remember that the mental map adapts slowly, so it will take time for Hugh to be able to see more clearly that there is a link between his actions and global problems. Getting Hugh Manitee to acknowledge he has a problem is the first stage in fixing the world.\n\nOn Planet Zob, the Feast of Zarrablast was reaching its crescendo: the Zarradance. Professor Dayv was linked tentacle to tentacle with the rest of his world, in a global conga, as the furry garchin-worms wriggled and writhed from around their sleeves down their backs, to the ground and then off into the jungle from whence they came. The Professor was wiping sweat from his forehead when Dr Zab came up on his wrist-viewer.\n\n\"Ah Dr Zab! How are things going up on Earth?\"\n\n\"Good evening Professor. Slowly I'm afraid. Our host, Hugh, finally accepted we are not hostile, so we showed him the problem, but he still appears to be resistant.\"\n\n\"Hmm.\" Professor Dayv took the matter seriously. \"Why do you think that is?\"\n\n\"We think it is something to do with their body chemistry. They have an adaptive chemical in their cell structure; they call it _D-N-A_. We are having our labs make an analysis; there may be a link.\"\n\n\"Good. Do your tests, and carry on with the therapy. And Zab, if you ever need a shoulder, you know I'm always there to listen, don't you. I mean, if things are difficult, _I care_.\"\n\n\"Yes, I know you care Professor. And thank you. You know I care about you too. I'll be in touch.\" And with that, Dr Zab turned to the results of the DNA scan.\n\nThe links to share and discuss this book on Facebook and Twitter are at::\n\nwww.TheShrinkFromPlanetZob.com.\n\n# 5 Nutters, Psychos and Lunatics\n\nDr Zab sat at his desk looking at a recording on his view-screen. Hugh knocked at the door.\n\n\"Come in Hugh.\" Called Zab. Hugh went in.\n\n\"Good morning Hugh. How are you feeling today?\"\n\n\"Fine. I keep telling you that.\"\n\n\"Good, well I have something I want to ask you about, if that's okay.\" Dr Zab turned the view-screen round to Hugh and pressed a button. There was a recording of Hugh talking from a previous session:\n\nWell, I am normal. I don't hear voices. I'm not some sort of psychotic serial killer. Yes, I'll admit there are loads of nutters on our planet, God knows I've met enough of them, but I'm not a psycho, I'm just a normal bloke. So if you don't mind I'd like you to send me home now, and you can find a real head-case to give your therapy to.\n\n\"Do you remember saying this Hugh?\" said Zab.\n\n\"I think so.\"\n\n\"Can you explain what you meant by 'psychotic', 'nutters', 'psycho' and 'head-case'?\"\n\n\"Well, you know, people who are mental. People who need a psychiatrist. I told you before I'm not one of them.\" Hugh was still confused.\n\n\"And what exactly does 'psychotic' mean to you?\"\n\n\"Well, people who attack other people, I guess. Lunatics.\"\n\n\"So you are saying the word psychotic means dangerous and mentally ill? Tell me Hugh, have you ever had psychosis?\"\n\n\"Well, no.\"\n\n\"Have you ever met anyone who has psychosis?\"\n\n\"Urr... no.\"\n\n\"Well, have you ever read any books on it?\"\n\nHugh paused, feeling slightly embarrassed. \"No.\"\n\n\"So how did you reach your conclusion about what psychosis means?\"\n\n\"Well... I guess I saw it.\"\n\n\"Where did you see it Hugh?\"\n\nHugh felt no room to manoeuvre, and was forced to admit where he had gained his opinion. He formed the word quietly, \"...films?\"\n\nDr Zab paused on obtaining the answer which he had anticipated. \"Good, I think we have touched on something. Let's have a closer look and see what we can find.\"\n\n##  Stress Induced Psychosis – Who is 'Mad'?\n\nThe preconceptions which Hugh has are fairly common in society, and are part of the stigma attached to mental illness, coming typically from people who perceive themselves as mentally healthy. It is difficult enough for anyone suffering a mental illness, but the stigma they face is a real problem which adds additional pressure.\n\nHugh is out of step with the reality. To get a better idea of the meaning of psychosis, it will be useful to relate a little about my experience when I acquired the illness. It came on during a period of severe stress, which I will need to describe.\n\nI was fully aware of people's preconceptions about psychosis before I told my girlfriend that I had experienced it. For a while I was stuck in an ethical dilemma: should I tell her soon after we met and risk her making a swift exit based on her preconceptions, or should I hold back the truth and let her get to know me, to see I was not dangerous, and then tell her at a later date? I don't like holding back the truth, but I decided in this instance that it was the correct course of action, and to reserve the more challenging truths for when she was ready. In effect, in teaching her the truth about psychosis I was working on improving her mental map –  providing her with therapy.\n\nEventually the time came when I thought it was safe to tell her, and I prepared for her reaction. Sure enough when I uttered the word psychosis her face was visibly shocked. I offered a playful smile, to reinforce the fact that I wasn't dangerous. As my girlfriend found the courage not to be scared off, we carried on with our relationship. But it was a clear example that she thought psychosis was something shocking.\n\nI had preconceptions about psychosis too. My primary neurosis (my fear of mental illness) had made me terrified at the prospect of becoming psychotic. The onset of my psychosis was dragged out and complicated, but when the day finally came that my psychiatric nurse said I needed anti-psychotic medication, the truth hit home. For so many years I had wondered if I was mentally ill; when it finally happened it was a devastating blow.\n\nIt is worth looking at how my psychosis came about, to see if we can find a cause. And if we find a cause, perhaps we might find a solution.\n\nMy primary neurosis had made me a worrier from an early age. With my fears of mental illness I had become prone to study my own psyche too closely and focus in on my every minute thought, constantly looking for problems which most of the time were not there. This didn't help.\n\nIn around 2002, my life took a turn for the seriously stressful. As I said previously when I was experiencing information overload, I asked for psychiatric help. I saw a Community Psychiatric Nurse (CPN) for an initial assessment. He listened briefly and I told him I had experienced some impossibly unlikely coincidences. He diagnosed serendipity – a mild form of psychosis, and referred me to a psychiatrist. As it turned out, this was a misdiagnosis: the real problem was that I was being ruthlessly persecuted by people around me.\n\nBefore we look into the persecution (the cause), we need to understand serendipity and psychosis.\n\nThe common meaning of the word serendipity is one of happy coincidence. If for example, you lost your job, and the next day a friend phones you up out of the blue and offers you your dream job on more pay; that would be serendipity - a happy coincidence; something unlikely which would help you out. Looked at like this, serendipity is really a good thing. In fact true serendipity (or what I call practical serendipity) _is_ a good thing, and it is something which we can benefit from. To use it we simply have to make an effort to turn situations to our advantage. For example researchers for the company 3M were trying to invent a powerful new glue. What they came up with was a glue which was slightly sticky but didn't seem to dry out. They could have thrown it away and started again, but instead they looked for a new use for the glue and invented post-it notes. Such practical serendipity can then be created and used to some extent. Living like this, we create our own luck; it's a bit like cheating at life, gaining advantages from all sorts of circumstances which other people might see as problematic.\n\nSo if serendipity is a good thing, how did psychiatrists decide that serendipity is a mental illness? Well, psychotic serendipity may be linked to practical serendipity but actually it is something quite different.\n\nAs we spot more and more happy coincidences, we are training our mind to become ever better at coincidence spotting. If we do this a lot, life can look somewhat different to how it looked before we started searching. And when we look for happy coincidences, sure enough we find them. It is then possible to believe that there are so many useful coincidences that somehow the universe is making things happen. In fact the universe has no conscious will to help us out in this way, but it may appear that it does. If we come to think the universe is helping us out, it can suddenly strike us as massively significant, and that preoccupation can make us spot more coincidences, which seem to add weight to the idea that the universe is helping us. The cycle can run out of control, and what began as practical serendipity can become delusional paranormal serendipity.\n\nWhen I first saw my psychiatrist, Dr Janet, I had experienced practical serendipity. There really had been some bizarre coincidences in my life which could have been turned to an advantage to help humanity. Dr Janet was trained, however, in looking for signs of psychotic serendipity. When I told her I had seen strange coincidences, she referred back to what she had learned in her training – her mental map - and subsequently she placed me into the box labelled 'psychotic serendipity'. She prescribed two weeks of anti-psychotic tablets and sent me off. I didn't take the tablets then, but I didn't need to since at that time I wasn't psychotic. The practical serendipity stopped when I severed links from the source of it – some people I had known.\n\nWhen I arrived at my psychiatrist's office for the first time, I was already under great stress. I had information overload to deal with, and also the practical serendipity to navigate. But I had looked into myself trying to find the underlying causes for why I felt so miserable. I identified some relationships I had which I believed were causing me harm. Lies were put around about me frightening children; a group of people close to me were persecuting me for no apparent reason. When one of the group threatened to have me put on medication and have my child taken off me it was too much; the pressure on me became severe.\n\nIn desperation, I tried to explain all this to Dr Janet, but when I did she broke eye contact, waved her hands at me to shut me up, and changed the subject. I found her reaction shocking; I desperately needed to tell someone about my persecution, and here she was, a trained listener who was telling me to be quiet when I brought up an important issue.\n\nThe stress became ever worse. And at a time when I was clinging on to life by my finger nails, along came Dr Janet in her hob-nail boots to stamp on my fingers. I didn't know at the time that my psychiatrist was dangerously ill.\n\nI recall at one of our meetings, commenting to Dr Janet that I was able to understand my mental health problems because I was intelligent. (That may sound arrogant, but actually it is merely a statement of fact. This claim was proven by an IQ test I did for Mensa which put my IQ at 149 – in the top 1 percent of the population. It doesn't make me a better person; it just means I am good at solving puzzles.) But when I put this fact to Dr Janet, she rolled her eyes at me in clear disapproval. Again her reaction was shocking, and made me feel a lot more desperate.\n\nDr Janet's complete lack of empathy carried on. In one meeting I had planned to offload a lot of stressful baggage, still quite desperate. A few minutes into the meeting, she got up and opened the door for me to leave. I so needed to talk that I literally held on to my seat and carried on talking, scared to death that if I didn't talk I would lose my mind. Her face was shocked at my reaction – she was evidently way out of step with what was going on in my mind.\n\nEventually, I managed to get Dr Janet to talk to one of the people who was persecuting me, in the hope that she would do something about the persecution – to explain to the perpetrator that actually I had never frightened any children, and that I was in fact fairly healthy, but just stressed out. My psychiatrist got it disastrously wrong once again. She turned to the perpetrator and said \"Well, Jake is a bit sensitive.\" Immediately, the perpetrator looked at me and nodded. Dr Janet made the situation a whole lot worse with one deft blow. The perpetrator's belief that I was the one who was mentally ill – the dangerous one – was instantly reinforced. Whereas the truth was, that it was the perpetrator who was ill, in their cruelty. I calmly tried to correct the damage, and replied: \"Yes I _am_ sensitive, that's the best way to be – sensitive to how people treat me and sensitive towards others.\" Years later Dr Janet's disastrous mistake came back to haunt me when the perpetrator told me I was over sensitive. In truth I was being made to feel utterly miserable by the cruelty in him and in other people around me.\n\nDr Janet made other mistakes. When I told her a little about my experiences, she cautioned me that \"sometimes the needle can get stuck.\" This made my primary neurosis even worse and I went away from the meeting literally terrified to think, expecting that at any moment I would lose my mind. When I told her I was quite self-aware, she dragged me down once more, telling me that self-awareness could become quite a nasty problem. Again, she made me terrified to think.\n\nTo rescue myself at this time when no one was offering a solution, I had to piece together a mental map to navigate out of the mire. I came to realise that I had been persecuted not because I was evil, but bizarrely for my good qualities. (I will explain more about this absurd phenomenon shortly.)\n\nMy experience with harmful therapists got worse. In a local pub I met an acquaintance who was also a therapist. I was pleased to meet with someone who might be able to understand my experiences. With enthusiasm I told her how people reject the truth from more grown, healthier individuals, because the healthier ones make them feel inadequate. I explained about the strong desire to protect one's status in a battle for social esteem. She immediately rejected what I was saying without stopping to consider my words. When I suggested that she \"think about it,\" she exploded. \"God, that's so patronising!\" She shouted out. Ironically she was doing exactly the same as the other perpetrators – persecuting me because, in this instance, I understood something better than her. The stress generated in me was immediate. I told her to just forget it and I left her to it. That night, the stress of the relentless persecution was too much to bear and I collapsed weeping on my bed. I had another mental breakdown.\n\nFortunately for me my CPN was generally healthy. I know this, because when I told him about the damage Dr Janet had done, he apologised. Though it wasn't my CPN's fault, he still shouldered the responsibility. Without the care of my CPN, I may not have survived; the stress had made me suicidal.\n\nSo it was during this period of stress on top of stress, caused by the persecution from people around me, including my own psychiatrist, that the psychotic serendipity eventually arrived as I kept spotting coincidences.\n\nAs I had already discussed psychotic serendipity with my psychiatrist and CPN, I knew exactly what it was. I tried to stay calm, but I knew the solution was to take the medication. I visited my CPN as soon as I could. I told him the symptoms, told him my diagnosis and told him I needed a course of medication. It was arranged immediately.\n\nThe medication worked okay and the apparent coincidences disappeared while I was on the tablets. A couple of years later I tried to come off them. For a few months things were fine. But then I ran into more stress. The psychotic serendipity returned, but this time it had grown. I started spotting coincidences of other things. There doesn't seem to be any particular pattern to these things.\n\nAt this time I also experienced a related form of psychosis – _synchronicity._ This, again, is all about spotting coincidences, but this time in completely unrelated things which happen close together in time. For example I might see a word written on a shop front and then a few seconds later hear the same word on the radio. And again, when the coincidence was spotted my heart would miss a beat, reinforcing the process. As with psychotic serendipity, such coincidences are happening all the time, but most of the time our mind simply ignores them as they are not much use to us. With psychosis these useless coincidences 'jump out' and appear to be important.\n\nI also discovered how people with psychotic illnesses can become paranoid. Another instance of coincidence spotting came to me whilst walking through the City of Bath. I started noticing that a lot of the people I was walking by were looking up at me. Of course, people do this, it's only natural, and most of us are hardly even aware of it. But for me, the chemicals in my brain started firing off, telling me that this was something remarkable and that I should pay attention to it. For all the world, it appeared that people were staring at me (which they weren't), and I suddenly became quite paranoid. There is little wonder then that people with the related illness, schizophrenia, can also become paranoid.\n\nMy neurotic, introspective nature made me preoccupied with these coincidences, which fuelled the process. With so many apparent coincidences happening around me, I was developing a full-blown psychosis. When it was at its worst, words began to appear in strange places. I was listening to a tape of birdsong, and I had a hallucination that a word was spoken on the tape. I knew I was experiencing psychosis, and so I made sure I went back on the tablets. Sure enough the coincidences disappeared.\n\nFor most readers, this explanation of psychosis will be nothing like their preconceptions of it. Where are the delusions about God, and the threat to others?\n\nWith my psychosis, I was fairly lucky. Before I acquired the illness, I had learned how the mind can seek out coincidences. So when it finally happened to me, I knew exactly what it was. I knew that it was an illusion caused by a chemical in my brain; in reality there were no significant coincidences there at all. But for people who don't know this, it can seem a lot weirder. The coincidences look very real. The psychotic person who is not aware of the chemical imbalance in the brain may then wonder what on earth is causing these apparently strange events. In our world we are fed from an early age, on stories of the supernatural. We are told there is a God in another dimension who looks down on us. We are told about the afterlife, about spirits, devils and angels. Many of us don't know how to navigate all this, and many people believe in such supernatural phenomena. It is not surprising then that some people who acquire this psychotic 'talent' for spotting coincidences, will put two and two together and will conclude that the coincidences are generated by some kind of supernatural being, or other force which they can't see. It is a little step then for a psychotic person to think that God is talking to them.\n\nThe American mathematician John Forbes Nash Junior, the focus of the film _A Beautiful Mind,_ had schizophrenia, an illness linked to psychosis. For a while he became obsessed with the idea that he was being followed by men in red ties. It seems he was probably spotting the coincidences, which in fact were not there. He concluded that they must be from a secret organisation which was following him, and he became duly paranoid.\n\nSo what happens if a psychotic person has the coincidence spotting and the God delusion, and then a word like 'kill' starts to jump out at them? It takes little imagination to see how this coincidence coupled with the supernatural delusions can come together, and the person may think God is telling them to kill people. Becoming a murderer is _not_ the norm for people with serendipity, synchronicity or psychosis, but this is a good explanation of how that might come about.\n\nSo we have now split psychotic illness into two parts – a harmless (but frightening) spotting of coincidences, and a separate belief in the supernatural, which occasionally poses a threat to others. But from where do these two aspects of psychosis come? If we can track down a cause, perhaps we can create a solution.\n\nAs I explained above, my own psychosis arrived during a period of the most extreme stress. And my stress was caused by others in my life who were cruel to me. Is there then a link between the stress and the psychosis?\n\nThere are numerous likely causes for psychosis, and the illness may for any individual have more than one contributing factor. Causes of psychotic episodes are divided into three main groups:1\n\n\\- psychosis by psychological conditions\n\n\\- psychosis caused by general medical conditions\n\n\\- psychosis caused by substances, such as alcohol or drugs\n\nPsychoses caused by general medical conditions or by substances, although serious, are outside the scope of this book; we are looking for the psychological causes. The psychological conditions which can lead to psychosis are:\n\n\\- schizophrenia\n\n\\- bipolar affective disorder\n\n\\- severe stress or anxiety\n\n\\- severe depression\n\n\\- lack of sleep\n\nThe type of psychotic episode will vary according to the underlying psychological cause. For example delusions of grandeur may occur in someone with bipolar affective disorder, whereas paranoid delusions may occur in someone with schizophrenia.\n\nFor me, looking at this list, it seems fairly clear that my psychosis was linked to the severe stress I had been put under by the group who were cruelly persecuting me and by my psychiatrist who was herself cruel. These cruel people, who generated my illness, perceived themselves as mentally healthy. Not only that, but they were perceived as mentally healthy by others around them. My psychiatrist, for example, had the status of doctor of psychiatry which must have lifted her high up in the estimation of others.\n\nWe shall look more at this kind of stress-inducing cruelty shortly. For the moment we can note that psychosis can be a symptom of mental ill health in other cruel people; people who consider themselves perfectly healthy.\n\nBut some of the psychotic people who _are_ a threat are not merely suffering from coincidence-psychosis; their illness has been made worse by the supernatural delusions which were given to them by the rest of society. For these people, the idea that God is talking to them is certainly a mental illness. But if there was no talk of the supernatural in our world, then there is a chance that psychotic people may never acquire such delusions. This supernatural-psychosis then is created by other people who are promoting supernatural ideas; again, people who perceive themselves as mentally healthy. So the real mentally ill people are not so much the ones with psychosis, but they are the people who are proliferating supernatural delusions. Again, many psychotic people have been made psychotic by the rest of society; there is no them and us in the world of mental health.\n\nMy life is evidence that psychosis, if properly treated, poses no threat to anybody else. So, Hugh's conclusion that psychotic people are dangerous murderers is rarely accurate.\n\nMy current situation with psychosis is that I pretty much don't have it. I am still on a low dose of an antipsychotic drug (risperidone) which I will probably be on for the rest of my life. But things only mildly 'jump out' at me, and I have never had any supernatural psychotic delusions (probably because I am sceptical about supernatural ideas). I'm not happy about being on the drug permanently, especially as the illness was given to me by other people, but I have to be grateful that such drugs exist at all, otherwise I would probably be in an awful state, in a padded cell, or maybe even dead.\n\nAs an aside, I studied the link between psychosis and intelligence. It is often said that genius is close to madness; it is clear to me now that there is a link. Intelligence is a lot to do with spotting patterns, which is what I had to do when I took the Mensa test. I did quite well since coincidence spotting had become my forte (though at times I wished it hadn't!) Before I took the test, I came off the antipsychotics for a couple of days, since I logically concluded that if they reduced my ability to spot patterns, they would reduce my IQ. But it is interesting to contemplate that acquiring this psychotic pattern spotting could actually have _increased_ my IQ. A mental illness which might increase intelligence! It's another blurred boundary between mental illness and health.\n\nHaving said that, people say genius is close to madness often because it is a way that they can persecute the truths which geniuses reveal. I am _not_ saying I am a genius!\n\n##  Misconceptions around Schizophrenia\n\nAs a general rule I don't mention my experiences of mental illness, especially of psychosis, to people I meet because I am well aware of the stigma attached to the issue. People who don't understand mental illness may be afraid of mentally ill people or may otherwise in some sense look down on them.\n\nDanny, the man I mentioned in Chapter 2 who was sectioned with schizophrenia, has suffered from stigma on numerous occasions. Like the illness psychosis, schizophrenia brings with it scary images of crazed axe murderers. Why? Well, partly that is down to the media. Very occasionally, a person with schizophrenia does attack someone, and what kind of headlines do we see in the papers then? Answer: something like - \"Schizophrenic Murders Pensioner.\" So we are given a skewed perception of schizophrenia by the news, as it is only the dangerous schizophrenic people who become newsworthy: all the peace loving schizophrenic people like Danny will be doing everyday things like watching telly, going to the shops or working, and they won't be noticed. The British National Health Service (NHS) acknowledges that there is a degree of linkage between violence and schizophrenia, but cautions: \"...the media tend to exaggerate this, with acts of violence committed by people with schizophrenia getting a great deal of high-profile media coverage. This gives the impression that such acts happen frequently when they are in fact very rare.\"2 So the maps in the minds of the 'ordinary' folk reading those headlines begin to drift away from reality. In other words, there is a mental disorder in the minds of the people who create the stigma. Again, is it the people with schizophrenia who are the really ill ones, or everyday people who think they are completely healthy? There is no them and us...\n\nThe NHS website goes on to say: \"A person with schizophrenia is far more likely to be the victim of violent crime, rather than the instigator. Experts at the Royal College of Psychiatrists estimate that if schizophrenia could be cured overnight, the rate of violent crime in England would only drop by 1 percent.\" Violent crime is usually the result of entirely different illnesses, sometimes personality disorder, which we will be looking at shortly. Violent crime may also come from people who are suffering anger – something which can afflict anyone, including people who consider themselves perfectly healthy.\n\nRegarding the skewed headlines, Danny quite rightly pointed out that you would not read the headline: \"Diabetic Murders Pensioner.\" He points out that it was decades ago that it became illegal to write something like: \"Pensioner Murdered by a Black\". That, of course, would be racial prejudice. But clearly the laws of the land, or even everyday political correctness, have not gone all the way to rid our minds of prejudice against people with mental illness.\n\nAnd it isn't just the sensationalist tabloids that are guilty of proliferating stigma and destructive stereotypes. Danny also complains about the UK's highly respected radio station BBC Radio 4, where a news presenter referred to an organisation as being schizophrenic, implying that it had a split personality. This is another common misconception. Schizophrenia has nothing to do with having a split personality: that is something more akin to multiple personality disorder. People with schizophrenia may have hallucinations from any of the five senses and will often hear voices, they may have delusions, paranoia or disorganised thinking. Other symptoms may include becoming socially withdrawn, experiencing a lack of emotions, inability to enjoy things which were previously enjoyed, apathy and becoming increasingly uncommunicative. Split personality doesn't come into it. So again, there was a delusion inside the mind of that radio presenter, an ordinary man who probably perceived himself as mentally healthy. Again, there is no them and us regarding mental illness.\n\nDanny experienced what he considers prejudice at the hands of the authorities. During a time when he was in control of his schizophrenia, he was raped. The stress of the assault, he claims, exacerbated the illness and drove him into a psychotic breakdown. He found himself alone in a field, feeling \"really really frightened\", where a member of the public reported him to the police. The police duly arrived and with the prior approval of psychiatrists, they enforced his sectioning. Danny told me how distressed he was that he was handcuffed behind his back and locked in a cell, when he wasn't threatening anyone. He claims the harsh treatment was unjustified and served to make his breakdown and anxiety much worse. A further source of misery was inflicted on him by the authorities when they told him he was not eligible for legal representation, something which would be provided to any person who hadn't been sectioned, for example to a rapist. In the court hearing about the rape, his evidence was dismissed on the grounds that his illness had made him an unreliable witness. On top of his traumatic illness was added extra stress by the rapist, the police and the legal system – all people who would be deemed to be mentally healthy. From where then does the suffering originate? Sometimes from ordinary people.\n\nThe police are ordinary people, and have little training in mental health issues. A Government report stated: \"Other than basic foundation training, police officers currently receive no standard training in mental health awareness and recognition, yet spend a significant amount of their time interacting with people with mental health problems.\"3 So it is likely the officers who handcuffed Danny that day couldn't understand that he was harmless. This is backed up by my mother's story from when she was working in a psychiatric unit. She found that some of the police who turned up at the unit would refuse outright to go in and meet the patients, fearful that the patients would attack them, revealing stigma around mental illness due to the police officers' preconceptions. Formal research has identified negative attitudes within the police force towards people with mental illness.4\n\nDanny is a good example of what schizophrenia is really about. If you were to meet him, you would be unlikely to know he has the illness, unless he told you. He takes the medication which keeps most of the hallucinations at bay (another misconception is that schizophrenia is not treatable). He is sociable, and holds a good conversation. Danny plays the keyboard in a band, gigging in pubs and clubs. Some of the songs the band plays Danny wrote himself and the melodies and lyrics are truly beautiful. He is also an accomplished sculptor.\n\nDanny has a strong moral code. He is kind to the people around him, and he recognises when other people are falling short. He detests sexism and racism, but more than that, he doesn't quietly appease social bullies as the rest of us might; he will often speak up for what is right in a courteous and assertive fashion. For example, Danny has cautioned friends against drinking and driving, being prepared to create a disagreement for the greater good. Another instance of Danny's morality was revealed when Danny was approached by the Mormons, who tried to bring him into their fold with some slick brochures. The cover of one brochure had pictures of attractive young men and women on it, promoting a glamorous image to would be recruits. Danny took exception to this, pointing out to the Mormons that Jesus reached out to everyone – lepers, and disabled people as much as anyone else, so where were the pictures of people in wheelchairs or elderly folk? He was right, the people in real need had been conveniently swept under the carpet by some hard-nosed marketing consultant, and the true essence of Christianity was lost. Who in this instance was healthy? The Mormons were displaying poor mental health in their prejudice against disabled people and the elderly – a degree of cruelty and selfishness.\n\nTo see a moral wrong and try to do something about it takes courage. So in this respect Danny, even with his schizophrenia, is much healthier than a lot of the people around him – again ordinary people who consider themselves mentally healthy – no them and us. In fact, I wish there were more people in the world like Danny. It is just very unfortunate that he has his illness.\n\n## Stress Can Cause Schizophrenia\n\nExperts are still uncertain as to the exact causes of schizophrenia, but most support what is called the _stress vulnerability model_ , a model which describes the likelihood of a person to acquire a wide range of mental illnesses. This model states that each person has a different vulnerability to schizophrenia or other mental illness, which is determined by a combination of environmental, psychological and biological factors. In some people there is a genetic link, where the gene passed to them by their parents may increase vulnerability. Other factors which may affect vulnerability to schizophrenia, include being brought up in an urban environment, or the use of recreational drugs. An estimated 8 to 13 percent of people with schizophrenia today would never have got it had they not used cannabis.5\n\nThe stress vulnerability model suggests that for a person who is highly vulnerable, a moderately stressful event such as job loss may trigger the condition. And for someone who has low vulnerability, the condition may only be triggered by a high stress event such as a bereavement, or not at all.\n\nSo the onset of schizophrenia is from a combination of vulnerability and stress. To identify the cause then, we need to look at what causes vulnerability, but also we need to identify sources of stress. We saw previously how my experiences of severe stress eventually contributed to my psychosis (and psychosis is closely linked to schizophrenia). It seems clear then, that the stress I experienced from cruel people in my life could easily have generated schizophrenia.\n\nStress is the key factor. The NHS website identifies the common causes of stress as being: money matters, work issues, relationships, bereavement, family problems, and moving house.6 Money matters, bereavement and moving house are outside the scope of this book, but we can look into work issues, relationships and family problems. The list supports my personal experience that relationships and family problems are major sources of stress. And being major sources of stress, they are _for some people_ likely to be causes of schizophrenia or other mental illnesses. It is often the cruel and selfish people in our lives who give us mental illnesses.\n\n## More on Stigma\n\nPsychosis and schizophrenia are two of the most common ailments to attract misconceptions and stigma, sometimes gaining sufferers the label 'psycho'. But stigma exists around other mental illnesses. One of the most common mental illnesses is depression. The World Health Organisation predicts that by the year 2020 depression will be the leading cause of disability and the second leading contributor to the global burden of disease.7 Mental illnesses such as this are not what you might call odd, they are to a large extent very normal.\n\nBut there is still stigma associated with depression and some people still believe it is a sign of weakness or admission of failure. In 2003 the British heavyweight boxing champion Frank Bruno fell ill with depression and was sectioned under the British Mental Health Act. The psychologist Professor Cary Cooper put Bruno's depression down to a combination of stresses including the end of his boxing career, the breakdown of his marriage and the suicide of his former trainer. Bruno was later diagnosed as having bipolar affective disorder.8 But how was Bruno's illness portrayed in the media? The Sun splashed its front page with the headline \"Bonkers Bruno Locked Up\" above a story which labelled him a \"nut\".9 The chief executive of the mental health charity Sane, Marjorie Wallace, said The Sun's stance was \" ...both an insult to Mr Bruno and damaging to the many thousands of people who endure mental illness to label him as 'bonkers' or 'a nutter' and having to be 'put in a mental home'... Such ignorant reporting does both the media and the public a huge disservice.\" 10 A study of the British tabloids in 1997 found that 40 per cent of daily tabloid articles and nearly half of Sunday tabloid articles about mental health contained derogatory terms such as 'nutter' and 'loony'.11\n\nBruno eventually made a recovery and now makes personal appearances and is often a guest on television shows. His case illustrates how mental illness can affect anyone, even a high flying prize fighter. And the way _The Sun_ persecuted him for his illness shows how ordinary people who deem themselves to be healthy can create stigma and add further stress to someone who is already extremely stressed. Who was ill, I would like to know – Bruno or the people who published the headline? I would argue that _The Sun's_ treatment of Bruno was cruel. Again, there's no them and us. _The Sun_ did make a climb down, but by then some of the damage was done. But why publish that article? Why are some people are persecuted, even people down on their luck like Bruno was? We will be looking deeper into the mechanisms of persecution throughout this book.\n\nCauses of depression are not always clear, but it is recognised that stress can be an important factor. It is clear that much of the stress in our lives is caused by cruelty and selfishness in others. My own depressions were certainly caused by people who were unkind towards me, generating stress and a loss of hope. I doubt that I am unusual in this, so how many more millions of people are made depressed by this cruelty and selfishness thing that I keep referring to? It must be a good many.\n\nStigma may have a real detrimental effect on someone suffering with a mental illness. It may lead to a lack of funding for services and public education. Sufferers may find it difficult to get a job or a mortgage or even holiday insurance. A person with a mental illness may feel shame and be discouraged from seeking treatment or even from admitting that their symptoms may be due to a mental illness.12\n\nStigma does hold many people back. But another aspect of stigma is the notion that people with mental illness are somehow failures in life. We can see how wrong this is if we look at the lives of a few high achievers. People who have experienced mental illness are in good company. Take a look at these famous individuals who have experienced a variety of mental disorders:13\n\nPaula Abdul: singer - bulimia.\n\nJohn Quincy Adams: former US president - clinical depression.\n\nCaroline Aherne: actress - depression, alcoholism, suicide attempt, agoraphobia. \"I try to piece together what I did and why I did it, but it's just a big blackout.\"\n\nAlvin Ailey: American dancer and choreographer - bipolar affective disorder.\n\nBuzz Aldrin: astronaut, second man to walk on the moon \\- clinical depression.\n\nSophie Anderton: model - depression.\n\nAdam Ant: musician - bipolar affective disorder.\n\nDiane Arbus: American photographer - clinical depression.\n\nRoseanne Barr: comedian, actress - multiple personality disorder.\n\nSyd Barrett: musician, member of Pink Floyd - schizophrenia.\n\nDrew Barrymore: actress, director - clinical depression.\n\nKim Basinger: actress \\- panic disorder.\n\nJustine Bateman: actress - bulimia.\n\nNed Beatty: actor - bipolar affective disorder.\n\nLudwig van Beethoven: German composer - bipolar affective disorder.\n\nIrving Berlin: musician and composer - clinical depression.\n\nLeonard Bernstein: American conductor and composer - clinical depression.\n\nDavid Blunkett: British MP - depression.\n\nMarlon Brando: actor - depression.\n\nCharles 'Buddy' Bolden: 'Father of American Jazz' - schizophrenia.\n\nRobert Boorstin: special assistant to former US president Bill Clinton - bipolar affective disorder.\n\nClara Bow: American silent films actress of the 1920's - clinical depression.\n\nJames Dean Bradfield: musician with the Manic Street Preachers - depression. \"I became a completely dysfunctional, miserable person, completely uncommunicative and aggressive.\"\n\nLord Melvyn Bragg: broadcaster, author and president of the mental health charity Mind \\- depression. \"Occasionally now I feel a wang that goes in my head \\- once you've got it you've got it. The [illness] was quite severe, leaving me deeply unhappy and frightened.\"\n\nCharlotte Bronte: novelist - anxiety disorder.\n\nFrank Bruno: British heavyweight boxing champion - depression, bipolar affective disorder. \"It's like a kettle. If it's a kettle, you turn the kettle off, you know what I mean? I wish I could put a hole in my head and let the steam come out. The steam was getting so high and the pressure was just getting a little bit much for me.\"\n\nKeisha Buchanan: singer with The Sugababes - depression. \"With depression, you can go in and out of it and not really know whether it's still there or not. Sometimes I'd find myself bursting into tears for no reason.\"\n\nArt Buchwald: American humorist and writer - bipolar affective disorder.\n\nMel C: former Spice Girl - depression. \"There is always a fear the depression could return but I do all the right things. I try to get the right amount of sleep because I know that I need sleep to function and I need to eat properly and to do some exercising.\"\n\nDrew Carey: comedian, actor - clinical depression.\n\nJim Carrey: actor - depression. \"I was on Prozac for a long time. It may have helped me out of a jam for a little bit, but people stay on it forever.\"\n\nKaren Carpenter: singer with The Carpenters - anorexia.\n\nDick Cavett: television talk show host - clinical depression.\n\nRay Charles: musician, singer - clinical depression.\n\nLawton Chiles: former Florida governor - clinical depression.\n\nSir Winston Churchill: former British prime minister - bipolar affective disorder.\n\nEric Clapton: musician, singer - clinical depression.\n\nDick Clark: television host - clinical depression.\n\nRosemary Clooney: singer - bipolar affective disorder.\n\nKurt Cobain: musician with Nirvana - clinical depression, suicided.\n\nLeonard Cohen: Canadian poet and musician - clinical depression.\n\nNatalie Cole: singer - clinical depression.\n\nJudie Collins: singer and songwriter - depression.\n\nShawn Colving: twice Grammy award winning musician – depression.\n\nFrancis Ford Coppola: film director, _The Godfather, Apocalypse Now_ \\- bipolar affective disorder.\n\nPatricia Cornwell: mystery/thriller writer - bipolar affective disorder, anorexia, bulimia.\n\nHart Crane: American poet - clinical depression.\n\nSheryl Crow: singer, musician - clinical depression.\n\nJack Dee: comedian - depression. \"Depression is something that has always figured in my life but now I'm dealing with it. I wish I'd done this years and years ago because it's been really helpful.\"\n\nSandra Dee: actress - anorexia, depression, alcoholism.\n\nCharles Dickens: writer - depression.\n\nBenjamin Disraeli: former British Prime Minister - depression.\n\nGaetano Donizetti: opera singer - bipolar affective disorder.\n\nRichard Dreyfuss: actor - bipolar affective disorder. \"I said to my doctor, 'You gotta test me, there's something wrong with me that I would be behaving this way.'\"\n\nGeorge Eliot: novelist \\- depression.\n\nCarrie Fisher: actress, screenwriter, novelist - bipolar affective disorder, drug abuse and prescription drug addiction. \"Mania starts off fun, not sleeping for days, keeping company with your brain, which has become a wonderful computer, showing 24 TV channels all about you. That goes horribly wrong after a while.\"\n\nF. Scott Fitzgerald: writer - depression.\n\nJane Fonda: actress - bulimia.\n\nJohn Forbes-Nash Junior: American mathematician, subject of the film _A Beautiful Mind_ \\- paranoid schizophrenia and depression.\n\nHarrison Ford: actor - depression.\n\nConnie Francis: singer \\- depression.\n\nSigmund Freud: psychoanalyst - depression, probable psychosis.\n\nStephen Fry: actor and director - bipolar affective disorder, suicidal thoughts. \"I may have looked happy. Inside I was hopelessly depressed.\"\n\nPeter Gabriel: musician, singer with the band Genesis - depression.\n\nJudy Garland: actress \\- depression, substance abuse.\n\nPaul Gascoigne: footballer - bulimia, obsessive-compulsive disorder, bipolar affective disorder, alcoholism, sectioned in February 2008. \"Everywhere I looked life seemed to be full of problems and they were just going to go on and on. It was never going to get any better.\"\n\nTrisha Goddard: TV presenter - depression. \"I was in danger of having my children taken away from me when I needed five weeks in psychiatric care... There is the smiling depressive which is the biggest time bomb and when they go they usually go with a bang, which was me.\"\n\nRussell Grant: TV presenter, astrologer - depression. \"It is a maze of total confusion... it can get to the point where you don't care if you live or die.\"\n\nPeter Green: guitarist with Fleetwood Mac - schizophrenia.\n\nLinda Hamilton: Hollywood actress - bipolar affective disorder. \"The lows were absolutely horrible. It was like falling into a manhole and not being able to lift the lid and climb out.\"\n\nDavid Helfgott: Australian concert pianist, subject of the film _Shine -_ schizoaffective disorder.\n\nErnest Hemingway: Pulitzer Prize winning novelist - depression.\n\nLenny Henry: Comedian \\- depression. \"That's where depression hits you most - your home life. It doesn't affect your work. I can't do this zany, wacky, funny thing anymore. I haven't been like that for a long time.\"\n\nAudrey Hepburn: actress - depression, anorexia.\n\nAnthony Hopkins: actor \\- depression.\n\nDame Kelly Holmes: athlete - depression. \"I became depressed and I cut myself with scissors and stuff.\"\n\nHoward Hughes: American aviator, film producer and manufacturer - obsessive compulsive disorder.\n\nJanet Jackson: singer \\- anxiety disorder and depression.\n\nBilly Joel: singer songwriter - suicide attempt, depression.\n\nUlrika Johnsson: TV presenter - depression.\n\nCarl Jung: psychoanalyst - depression.\n\nJohn Keats: poet - depression.\n\nCharles Kennedy: British MP - alcoholism.\n\nPatsy Kensit: actress \\- depression.\n\nJack Kerouac: American author, poet and painter - alcoholism, substance abuse, depression.\n\nMargot Kidder: actress \\- manic psychosis.\n\nStephen King: author - alcoholism and drug abuse.\n\nSarah Lancashire: actress - depression. \"My twenties were a write-off. It's a cruel illness, because you can't see it and you can hide it so well.\"\n\nHugh Laurie: actor - depression. \"I clung to unhappiness because it was a known familiar state.\"\n\nVivien Leigh: actress \\- bipolar affective disorder.\n\nJohn Lennon: member of The Beatles - depression.\n\nNeil Lennon: footballer - depression. \"It's a bit like walking down a long, dark corridor never knowing when the light will go on.\"\n\nAbraham Lincoln: former American president - several breakdowns, suicidal thoughts and clinical depression before going on to become president in 1861.\n\nCourtney Love: musician - depression.\n\nMeg Mathews: former wife of Oasis musician Noel Gallagher - depression and alcohol abuse.\n\nBrian May: guitarist with rock band Queen - depression, suicidal thoughts. When asked in interview, on BBC Radio 4's _Desert Island Discs,_ how low he had felt, he answered he had been \"to the bottom.\" He made a full recovery. \" **I think sometimes depression is a trigger for us to get out of the old habits we learned as we grew up ... to decide for ourselves how we will react to what is around us.\"** **14**\n\nBurgess Meredith: American actor – a form of bipolar affective disorder.\n\nMelinda Messenger: model and TV presenter - depression. \"I felt suicidal. I couldn't stop crying. I remember thinking wouldn't it be great if the car crashed and I died?\"\n\nGeorge Michael: singer \\- depression. \"Twelve years of depression and fear and lots of other bad stuff. It was as if I had a curse on me. I couldn't believe how much God was piling on at once.\"\n\nFlorence Nightingale: nurse in the Crimean War - depression.\n\nMichelangelo: Italian artist - possible bipolar affective disorder.\n\nSpike Milligan: comedian, writer, musician, poet, playwright - bipolar affective disorder.\n\nDanii Minogue: singer \\- depression. \"My sister was sick, then my best friend died soon after - I felt I'd been hit by a wave. I couldn't deal with the stress.\"15 And four years after the depression: \"Life is just so different now.\"\n\nKylie Minogue: singer \\- depression. \"You get such a kick and then suddenly it's all over. That's good ground for uncertainty and depression. I usually burst into tears.\"\n\nMarilyn Monroe: model, actress - depression.\n\nBen Moody: musician - depression. \"I was horribly depressed, and I felt like I had failed as a band leader, a professional, as a person.\"\n\nAlanis Morissette: singer songwriter \\- depression.\n\nMorrissey: musician from the band The Smiths - depression.\n\nSir Isaac Newton: mathematician and scientist - breakdowns and probable bipolar affective disorder.\n\nFriedrich Nietzsche: philosopher - depression.\n\nVlasov Nijinsky: ballet dancer - schizophrenia.\n\nGraeme Obree: cyclist, and subject of the film _The Flying Scotsman_ \\- depression. \"When you're depressed, everything becomes distorted.\"\n\nSinead O'Connor: musician - bipolar affective disorder. \"I had developed manic depression... the main symptom is the constant voice in the head telling you to kill yourself.\"\n\nBill Oddie: TV presenter - depression. \"Chemicals will help you and medication will help you perhaps overcome it initially, but it won't work permanently if you don't follow it up with quite intense psychoanalysis of some sort.\"\n\nEugene O'Neill: playwright - depression.\n\nDonny Osmond: singer - social anxiety disorder, panic attacks.\n\nMarie Osmond: singer - anxiety, post-natal depression, suicidal thoughts.\n\nDolly Parton: country singer - depression, suicidal thoughts.\n\nJane Pauley: NBC broadcaster - depression and bipolar affective disorder.\n\nPablo Picasso: Spanish painter - depression.\n\nSylvia Plath: poet, author - bipolar affective disorder, suicided.\n\nJackson Pollock: American abstract painter - depression, alcoholism.\n\nCole Porter: American lyricist and composer - depression.\n\nGail Porter: TV presenter - depression. \"It's horrible, horrible, horrible. It took a year and a half until I found out that I had post-natal depression.\"\n\nJohn Prescott: British MP - bulimia.\n\nKatie Price (aka Jordan): model - depression. \"I was a psycho woman. It felt like something in me that I had no control over.\"\n\nCharlie Pride: country singer - bipolar affective disorder.\n\nDr Kay Redfield Jamison: psychiatrist and author – suicide attempts and bipolar affective disorder.\n\nWinona Ryder: actress – depression. \"You have good days and bad days, and depression's something that, you know, is always with you.\"\n\nJoan Rivers: comedian \\- depression, bulimia.\n\nAxl Rose: singer with the band Guns n Roses - bipolar affective disorder.\n\nWinona Ryder: actress \\- anxiety, depression, suicidal thoughts.\n\nYves Saint Laurent: fashion designer - depression.\n\nCharles Schultz: cartoonist - anxiety and depression.\n\nBrooke Shields: Actress - depression. \"I just felt as though I would never be happy again, and as if I had fallen into a big black hole.\"\n\nCarly Simon: singer - social anxiety disorder.\n\nPaul Simon: singer song writer – depression.\n\nTony Slattery: Comedian - bipolar affective disorder. \"There's psychomotor agitation, where you're endlessly pacing, and you can't sleep and you're short-tempered.\"\n\nPhil Spector: record producer - depression.\n\nDiana Spencer: Princess of Wales - bulimia, post natal depression.\n\nBen Stiller: actor – bipolar affective disorder. \"I have not been an easygoing guy. I think it's called bipolar manic depression. I've got a rich history of that in my family.\"\n\nSting: musician - depression.\n\nBarbara Streisand: singer - social anxiety disorder.\n\nJames Taylor: singer songwriter - depression.\n\nPeter Illyich Tchaikovsky: Russian composer - depression.\n\nUma Thurman: Actress - depression. \"Nobody seemed to have any perspective any longer. Those were low points. But we got through it.\"\n\nLeo Tolstoy: author, wrote _War and Peace_ \\- depression, alcoholism.\n\nTracey Ullman: actress, comedian, singer, dancer, screenwriter, author - bipolar affective disorder.\n\nJean-Claude Van Damme: actor, marital artist - bipolar affective disorder.\n\nVincent Van Gogh: artist - depressive and manic episodes.\n\nQueen Victoria: depression.\n\nRuby Wax: TV presenter \\- depression. \"Depressions are very cyclical, they happen once every five years. When I was on TV, yes I was effervescent, you can't fake it. It [depression] comes like the pox.\"\n\nDenise Welch: actress \\- depression, suicidal thoughts. \"I lost all sense of reality. I basically had what was a nervous breakdown.\"\n\nRobbie Williams: singer - depression. \"The depression isn't about anything. It's not about 'woe is me'. It's like the worst flu all day and you can't kick it.\"\n\nRobbin Williams: comedian, actor - bipolar affective disorder.\n\nTennessee Williams: playwright - depression.\n\nBrian Wilson: member of the Beach Boys - bipolar affective disorder.\n\nAmy Winehouse: singer \\- depression, drug abuse. \"I felt that a black cloud hangs over me. I have taken pills for depression but they slowed me down. I believe there are lots of people who have these mood changes.\"16\n\nVirginia Woolf: author \\- bipolar affective disorder.\n\nTammy Wynette: country singer - depression.\n\nBoris Yeltsin: former Russian President - depression.\n\nThese high achievers have experienced some desperate lows in their illnesses, but the remarkable thing is that most of them made recoveries and successfully returned to their lives and their careers.\n\nBear in mind too, that this list is not exhaustive – there are probably far more famous people who wish their mental health problems to be kept private. The list also excludes some prominent illnesses such as personality disorder. So the overriding message here is that mental illness is not unusual, in fact I believe it is by far the norm rather than the exception.\n\nWhat we need to remember from this list, is that these people's mental disorders didn't just pop up from nowhere. Quite often they will have been generated by stressful circumstances.\n\n## Social Exclusion as a Cause of Mental Illness\n\nLast night something happened which fits in beautifully with this story of stigma in an ordinary Scottish village. First I'm going to meander a little to look at an example of practical synchronicity.\n\nT he Swiss psychiatrist and pioneer Carl Jung was one of the first to observe and apply synchronicity in the field of psychotherapy. In his article _Synchronicity, An Acausal Connecting Principle,_ Jung describes an incident with a client which has since become quite famous:17\n\nA young woman I was treating had, at a critical moment, a dream in which she was given a golden scarab. While she was telling me this dream I sat with my back to the closed window. Suddenly I heard a noise behind me, like a gentle tapping. I turned round and saw a flying insect knocking against the window-pane from outside. I opened the window and caught the creature in the air as it flew in. It was the nearest analogy to a golden scarab that one finds in our latitudes, a scarabaeid beetle, the common rose-chafer (Cetonia aurata), which contrary to its usual habits had evidently felt an urge to get into a dark room at this particular moment.\n\nJung caught the beetle and offered it to his client. This was, perhaps, an extremely risky thing to do, for a client who was already experiencing disturbed thoughts. Jung suggested that there was some mystical force at work which somehow engineered the appearance of the beetle at that moment, but, as we saw with psychotic serendipity and synchronicity, these coincidences occur all the time, but mostly our mind filters them out.\n\nNonetheless, Jung used the event to break down the client's resistance to the therapeutic work, which became easier thanks to the event and consequently the woman made improvements. It shows how happy coincidence can sometimes cunningly be used to promote the therapeutic process. Recounting a recent night out whilst holidaying in Scotland offers a relevant point in a similarly synchronistic fashion.\n\nI was having a drink in a remote village pub in the Western Highlands. There were a group of us in the bar, several women and me; one of them was a vicar at a nearby church, there were also the landlady and a barman. We were sitting with our drinks making casual conversation, when a woman came into the pub. She promptly began offering impersonations of famous celebrities, but she was making a rather poor job of it. There were some folders of papers under her other arm, and it transpired that she had arrived to recruit the pub into a money raising effort for a local hospice charity. But this woman was unusual. Not only was she poor as a mimic but she had an air of oddness about her. Her face was drawn and expressionless and her eyes were somewhat wide and staring. She was noticeably thin, and was slightly dishevelled, with straggly long blond hair which was turning into dreadlocks. When she addressed the landlady and the barman her manner was over-loud and she seemed to talk over people and not fit in with the situation. It seemed likely that the woman might have a mental disorder which was creating her oddness, though I wouldn't hazard a guess as to what it might have been. (Oddness is recognised by psychiatrists as a possible sign of mental illness.18)\n\nThe group of women were quick to spot this. When the woman tried to talk about the charity she was promoting, the vicar suggested that she go and talk to some people in another room. The woman left, and the vicar said to the barman, \"Aren't you going to thank me for getting rid of the odd-bod?\" The group talked about the woman while she was out of the room and the landlady plotted to tell her that the pub was closing early so they could get rid of her and carry on happily with their conversation. It was a lie. I sat and observed.\n\nThe woman returned to the bar to talk some more about the charity. She said she was planning to do her impersonations live on radio the next day. The group of women fell into disparaging comments so I made a point of loudly applauding the odd woman and laughing at her joke, exclaiming, \"That woman is a genius!\" She came to talk to the group and the hostile comments continued. The landlady suggested she should go off and visit some other pubs, and the vicar said, \"Haven't you got a home to go to?\" I tried to cut a path through the negativity and asked the odd woman about her charity work. I noted the time for her radio slot, making sure my warmth was visible to the other women there. When it was my time to leave I stood up and shook the woman's hand thanking her for all her good work. The vicar looked at me and fell silent.\n\nSure enough, the next day the odd woman was as good as her word and made her radio appearance publicising her fund raising events. She still sounded somewhat eccentric, but she achieved a life-long ambition and performed her act live on air. I laughed out loud.\n\nIt was clear to me that this was a case of prejudice and stigma. The woman, who may have had mental health problems, was being treated as a second class citizen, being encouraged to leave a public house. But what was she _in reality_? She was a slightly odd woman who was very generously giving her time up for a worthwhile cause. And that was a healthy thing to do.\n\nAnd what was the vicar _in reality_? The incident reminded me of Christ's words from his most important sermon, The Sermon on the Mount. In the first of the beatitudes he said, \"Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven...\" [Matthew 5:3] This was the first line, so it must have been highly significant to Christ. The word _poor_ used here derives from an Aramaic word _'ányâ_ (in Hebrew _'anî_ ), which translates as bent down, afflicted, miserable or poor.19 I am in disagreement with some Christian interpretations, but to my mind the people who are really poor in spirit are those with mental illness. If you had chronic depression you couldn't be much more bent down, afflicted or miserable. So here, in the most important line of the most important sermon from the world's largest religion Christ said, \"Blessed are the mentally ill.\" But this was totally overlooked by the woman who was on the pay-roll of the Christian church. She wasn't only indifferent to our charity worker, she was actively hostile – cruel and selfish. A 2004 government report into social exclusion and mental health backs up the importance of spiritual groups for some people with mental illness: \"Research has shown that aspects of spirituality are linked with beneficial mental health outcomes and are consistently related to greater life satisfaction, happiness, morale and other indicators of well-being.\"20 The vicar then, had a greater responsibility than most to look after the odd woman in the pub, but she failed in her duty.\n\nSo who was the person who was mentally ill? Lies are always a strong sign that cruelty and selfishness are around, and the landlady lied about the pub closing time: a clue that she was in fact ill. In reality, our odd charity worker was far more healthy, and indeed Christian, than the group of ordinary women who considered themselves to be mentally well. No them and us... yet again.\n\nThe same government study into social exclusion and mental illness concluded that people with long-term mental illness are among the most excluded in society and that exclusion has a major bearing on their mental health: \"Mental health problems can be both a cause and a consequence of social exclusion.\" The study defined the core of social exclusion as a \"...lack of participation in mainstream social, cultural, economic and political activities...\" Visiting a public house would certainly count as a social or cultural activity, and so our friend's expulsion from the pub was, by government standards, an example of social exclusion. The study stated that \"Being in work and having social contacts is strongly associated with improved health and well-being...\" and went on, \"Social isolation is an important risk factor for deteriorating mental health and suicide. Two-thirds of men under the age of thirty-five with mental health problems who die by suicide are unemployed.\"\n\nThe study identified stigma as a main cause of social exclusion: \"Stigma and discrimination against people with mental health problems is pervasive throughout society. Despite a number of campaigns, there has been no significant change in attitudes.\" The report called for \"...the acceptance of people with mental health problems as equal citizens.\"\n\nSo the women in the pub had a responsibility. Their actions could have made the impressionist's health worse by excluding her, but the flipside of the coin is that they could have maybe improved her health by including her as part of their community. Mental illness is caused or cured by wider society - by ordinary people who perceive themselves as healthy.\n\n## Attitudes To Mental Illness\n\nIn the UK, attitudes towards people with mental health have become slightly worse in recent years. In a 2007 study by the British Office for National Statistics (ONS) people were asked to assess the statement: \"People with mental illness are a burden on society.\"21 The percentages for people disagreeing fell from 81 percent in 1994 to 78 percent in 2007. The list of famous high achievers shows that people are making a dangerous generalisation, but more than a fifth of people stick with this misconception – maintaining the stigma.\n\nDespite our list of famous people who have often flourished with mental illness, in 2007 there was still just over a fifth of people who agreed with the statement: \"There is something about people with mental illness that makes it easy to tell them from normal people.\"22 It may be true for a particular person with an illness, but the conclusion can't be extended to such a wide range of illnesses. For example, people with bipolar affective disorder are often marked not by some overt failure, but rather more by exceptional creativity.\n\nWork opportunities remain limited for people with mental health problems. The study revealed that often people with mental illness will be excluded from higher work positions. In 2007 around 13 percent of people agreed with the statement: \"People with mental illness should not be given any responsibility.\"23 If that attitude had been universally accepted, then Abraham Lincoln, Winston Churchill, Benjamin Disraeli and Florence Nightingale would all have struggled for work. And 34 percent of people believed those with mental health problems should not have the same rights to a job as anyone else.\n\nFear still resides in some people when they think about those with mental illness. The same report found that 42 percent of people disagreed with the statement: \"People with mental illness are far less of a danger than most people suppose.\"24 A figure which had increased by 4 percent since 1994. Thirty-seven percent of respondents agreed with the statement: \"I would not want to live next door to someone who has been mentally ill.\"25 This would surely be an alarming figure for anyone who has experienced mental illness. Thirty-four percent of people thought a mentally ill person is prone to violence, despite the lack of evidence relating to most mental illnesses.26 Studies have found that fewer than 5 percent of people who kill a stranger have signs of mental illness.27\n\nPeople often underestimated how common mental health problems are. The proportion of people in the UK who will experience a mental health problem at some point in their life has been estimated at around 1 in 4: of the respondents, 64 percent thought that the figure was 1 in 10 or less.28 In fact, the Government's statistics will provide an underestimate of the situation: some illnesses such as personality disorder will not figure as people with the disorder are unlikely to report that they have a problem. (I estimate the figure for those experiencing a mental illness at some point in their life to be closer to 10 in 10, as I take a more rigorous Zobian view of mental illness, but more of this to follow.)\n\nRegarding integration of mentally ill people in society, 25 percent of people believe they have the right to exclude someone with mental illness from their community29. We saw a grass roots example of this worrying statistic in the case of our odd impressionist charity worker. In fact, in that example 4 out of the 5 people present shunned the impressionist from the pub. I believe this example of the woman in the pub hints at a possible flaw in the statistics reached by the ONS. The problem is that when people are asked about these mental health issues, the questions strike a moral chord. We know that we _should_ be tolerant towards others, but while we want to be seen to be tolerant and kind, hidden deep down is the desire to be cruel and selfish. So in answering these moral questions, the respondents will have a tendency to paint themselves in a good light, and pretend that they are kind and compassionate towards those afflicted. It is likely that many of the respondents told lies. This is what psychologists call _social desirability bias –_ the inclination of questionnaire respondents to answer falsely in order to show themselves in a better light. There is a real chance that, because of this deep seated selfishness and cruelty, the situation of stigma may be worse than the ONS study would have us believe.\n\nThis attitude of stigma around mental illness is likely to add extra stress to people who are already vulnerable to mental illness. The stigma may exacerbate illness in those already suffering, but it is quite likely that for some people the stress from stigma and social exclusion could actually be generating mental illness.\n\n## From Where Does Stress Originate?\n\nYou may recall my list of 26 mental ailments I have experienced from earlier in the book. They were: neurosis, depression, break down, mania, compulsion, obsession, delusion, denial, paranoia, suicidal thoughts, information overload, serendipity, synchronicity, psychosis, hallucination, narcissism, personality disorder, severe anger, sleep problems, persecution, alcoholism, stress and anxiety, panic attacks, theomania and social anxiety. I have reason to believe that most of these ailments were caused by cruelty and selfishness shown towards me from other people, cruelty and selfishness which caused me stress.\n\nMy experience fits in with the accepted stress vulnerability model, which describes how the onset of many mental illnesses is brought on by a combination of vulnerability and stress. I may have had a high resilience to the illnesses I acquired, but the stress I experienced was so severe as to cause those illnesses to appear.\n\nHistorically, my ailments happened like this: my neurosis was instilled in me in my teen years by people close to me who were cruel and selfish] . The neurosis led to despair, depression and break down, and eventually to suicidal thoughts. When the persecution became worse I acquired generalised anxiety, for which I had to take medication. The anxiety gave me a fear of many things including confined spaces, travel abroad, dentists, sitting in a theatre and flying in an aircraft. It also led to panic attacks, and nightmares. I developed social anxiety, a condition which I still have today. The severe stress led to psychotic serendipity and synchronicity, for which I had to take more medication, and an instance of hallucination. All this made me more depressed. To help cope with the social anxiety and the depression I turned to alcohol, often drinking to excess. The cruelty I received even, for a while, trained me to be cruel to other people around me.\n\nReferring back to the link between violence and mental illness, the cruelty dished out by ordinary people can create mental illnesses in others, even schizophrenia, and that mental illness can lead on to violent behaviour. This shouldn't be surprising to us. People who have been made mentally ill by someone else are bound to be angry, and that anger would drive anybody in the direction of violence. So following the causation back, the blame for violence should not be aimed at people who are mentally ill in the accepted sense; the blame should be apportioned to ordinary people who are considered sane but are nonetheless cruel and selfish.\n\nSo my conclusion is that a whole range of mental illnesses can be generated by one thing, which I have so far been calling 'cruelty and selfishness', originating from ordinary people – people who thought they were healthy. So if we are to tackle the mental health of our entire planet, we have found something which is a fundamental cause of numerous mental disorders. What I have been referring to as cruelty and selfishness is in fact a recognised mental disorder. It is known as _psychopathy,_ or _sociopathy_ or _personality disorder_.\n\nMy anecdotal evidence is supported by the observations of clinicians. The American clinical psychologist and author Dr Martha Stout has treated hundreds of adults suffering trauma, chronic anxiety, depression, dissociative mental states and suicide attempts and found that \"...most of them have been... psychologically shattered by individual human perpetrators, often sociopaths – sometimes sociopathic strangers, but more typically sociopathic parents, older relatives, or siblings.\"30 So to heal a wide range of mental illnesses we need to look to the cause – and for this I am choosing the term _psychopathy –_ the disorder of the psychopath. Psychopathy, we will find, is the root cause of a vast amount of suffering in the world.\n\n\"So you see Hugh,\" continued Dr Zab, \"The people you call 'psychos', are of no threat to anyone else, and these mentally ill people were often made unwell by the people around them. They weren't born ill, they were _made_ ill.\"\n\n\"Right.\" Said Hugh, quietly. He remained unconvinced and wasn't sure where all this was heading.\n\n\"Ok, well why don't we see how your clone is getting on? We programmed him with your old thought patterns, so he is living just as you used to do before we beamed you up.\" At that, Zab operated his view-screen and zoomed down to Hugh's workplace at the Post Office. The clone was sorting parcels when Susan, a colleague, arrived on her bicycle for her shift. She parked up, took off her bicycle clips and the two woolly hats she was wearing. She found that one wasn't warm enough in the depths of winter.\n\nHugh's clone smirked as she walked by, and made a fake coughing sound, spluttering out \"Ahhrgh-hum.... nutter!\" And then added in fake apology, \"Ooh excuse me!\" Susan had heard it before. She knew people thought she was odd, it happened regularly at work. She was the target, the one the bullies liked to pick on. It made her very unhappy.\n\n\"Now, Hugh,\" said Zab, \"We can have our computer make a forecast for the future based on what you have just seen if we press this pink button here...\"\n\nWith that, the view-screen showed Susan's life for the next few months. Hugh watched more instances of his colleagues picking on Susan, belittling her, playing pranks and passing her over for promotion. Finally, for Susan, the stress which she was holding in had to make itself heard. She was sitting alone at home one evening thinking about the bullies, when she broke down and without warning her eyesight ceased to work.\n\nSusan was hospitalised, not in a regular hospital, but in a mental health unit. Her sudden blindness was a symptom of the stress that her work colleagues had put her under. With support, the staff at the hospital managed to restore her eyesight, and in time they gave her new hope for her future.\n\nHugh sat thinking.\n\n\"You see Hugh,\" said Zab, \"Your comment will cause Susan to suffer.\"\n\nHugh looked at Zab, but said nothing. So Zab tried to push his point home.\n\n\"Hugh, to heal people like Susan, we first need to heal you.\"\n\nHugh sat mulling it over for a few seconds, and then burst out defensively \"It was a joke!\"\n\nZab was frustrated but remained calm. \"No Hugh, I'm afraid this wasn't a joke. You see, when you called Susan a 'nutter', she _wasn't_ ill. She was reasonably healthy. But she _became_ ill because of the comments made by you and your colleagues. I'm sorry to say, that you _made_ Susan mentally ill. We need to look at this. It's very important.\"\n\nHugh wasn't remotely happy. He sat and thought about it for a while.\n\n\"You said you need to heal me,\" he said finally. \"Are you actually saying _I'm_ ill?\" he added in disbelief.\n\nDr Zab paused, and breathed a slow breath out over his lips as he struggled to find the right words. \"Well Hugh, how can I put it? I think there are some issues we need to discuss.\"\n\nHugh sat in silence for a while until eventually he rolled his eyes, shook his head despairingly and without saying another word got up and walked out.\n\nZab sighed a disappointed sigh, and made a few notes in his little black notebook.\n\nThat night in his quarters, Hugh lay awake staring at the ceiling. He went over all that Zab had said, over and over. In the observation room next door, the metabolism monitor detected a steady rise in adrenaline.\n\nThe links to share and discuss this book on Facebook and Twitter are at::\n\nwww.TheShrinkFromPlanetZob.com.\n\n# 6 An Ordinary Psychopath\n\nDr Zab arrived at his consulting room whistling a Zobian sea shanty. Hugh was already in the room, in his usual seat. His face was tight lipped and serious and his fingers were drumming on the arm of his chair.\n\n\"Whuhhh?!!\" Zab jumped for one moment when he spotted Hugh. \"Oh, good morning Hugh, you're early today, did you sleep all right?\"\n\nHugh's expression was frozen as he pierced Zab with his eyes. He said nothing.\n\nZab was a little taken aback. \"I, urr, I... are you all right Hugh?\"\n\n\" _I'm_ fine,\" said Hugh. He didn't break his expression, but it was clear from his body language that he was anything but fine.\n\n\"You seem a little out of sorts, perhaps you might like to tell me what's on your mind.\"\n\n\"You.\" said Hugh.\n\n\"Me?\" said Zab. \"What is it I have done? I think you should tell me.\"\n\n\"You,\" repeated Hugh with contempt in his voice. \"Who the hell do you think you are?\"\n\n\"...All right...\" said Zab slowly, as he wondered why Hugh was being so unfriendly, \"...do carry on...\"\n\n\"You come here, to a planet you don't belong to, acting like God. What the hell gives you the right? Criticising me and my world. Nobody invited you here. You're not welcome. You should take your poxy ship and your rancid appendages and blast off to where you came from, or preferably go fly into the sun. You're an arrogant, opinionated, stupid, self-righteous, fascist, holier-than-thou, patronising, pompous, foul-smelling, hideous monster. Take your psychotherapy and stick it in your black hole. I've had enough of you, Quark and your minions. This therapy is over. Terminated. I am no longer taking part, and if you don't like it then tough. I don't rate you as a psychiatrist. As a shrink, you are crap. In fact, I can't stand you. I can't stand your species. You are all Galactic Super-prats, so just sod off and leave us to sort out our problems for ourselves. I will be in my quarters until you beam me back to Earth. Goodbye.\" With that, Hugh got up and walked out of the room and back to his quarters.\n\nZab was left, wondering what he had done. He knew he had arrived to help planet Earth; it seemed quite irrational that Hugh should take such offence. Clearly there was an issue here which was yet to be resolved. He reached to his console and found the brown button with the yellow stripes. He pressed it. In Hugh's room, there was a droning noise, and Hugh, still fuming and pacing up and down, faded gently out of sight.\n\nBack in Zab's consulting room, the droning sound continued. In Hugh's comfy chair, there was a flicker of light, and Hugh faded gently back into his seat.\n\n\"WHAT THE?!!!\" Hugh was enraged.\n\n\"I'm sorry Hugh,\" said Zab. \"I think we still have some talking to do.\"\n\n## The Genetic Cause of Psychopathic Behaviour\n\nWell, if only Earth psychiatrists could beam people into their consulting rooms like this! But for an Earth psychiatrist, this would not be deemed ethical. A Zobian therapist takes a different stance. For them, providing compulsory therapy to _Homo sapiens_ is completely ethical. In fact the Zobians know that it is unethical _not_ to try to heal the minds of the ordinary Earthling.\n\nOn Earth people like Hugh don't go in to therapy, although they most certainly should. We saw earlier why people generally avoid therapy: most people have no perception that they have a problem; therapy may seem too frightening; most people don't like to admit they have been wrong; and most people instinctively know that therapy will reveal uncomfortable moral truths.\n\nHugh has now got past the confused stage of his therapy. Previously he thought that Dr Zab had simply got the wrong man. But Zab carried on, and Hugh has come to recognise that his planet does indeed have problems which need to be addressed Then Hugh believed the problems to be caused by other people. But now, Hugh has suddenly realised that Zab actually thinks that he _personally_ is unwell. Zab is criticising Hugh, and this has pressed a very big mental button indeed. Hugh is now experiencing _anger._\n\nThis anger is part of Hugh's ongoing resistance to therapy. Hugh's reactions in this book are the same reactions that most humans would have if they found themselves in Hugh's position. So if we want to provide therapy for the entire human race it is important that we look at obstacles like this and see if we can find a way round them. We are going to strip down the anger mechanism and find out what it is, what causes it, and see if it can be eliminated.\n\nWhy was Hugh angry? It may seem like an empty question, but remember that Zab is here to help Hugh. Hugh previously came to realise that Dr Zab was not a threat, so why this sudden violent reaction to therapy?\n\nI believe this form of anger is genetically motivated. Behind the scenes of our lives there is a battle going on; a battle for survival. It is so ubiquitous that most of us are unaware that we are taking part. But this struggle to survive is very powerful and dictates our actions every day of our lives.\n\nMost rational thinkers nowadays accept the evidence for evolution. Charles Darwin's theory of evolution by natural selection has explained well how we came to exist. Our genes are in a competition to survive, and our bodies are merely survival machines to help us pass on our genes. Our genes are ruthless and will exploit any opportunity to gain an advantage over competitors. If that means a fish has to develop limbs to cross some land, then it will quite likely happen . Every niche on Earth is exploited in the battle to pass on genetic information. And when it comes to matters of the mind, the gene is equally merciless. But the mind is different, because it is only in the mind where falsehoods may exist, and the genes have discovered they can use this to survive.\n\nThe minds of animals developed in order to give the animals an advantage. If an animal can form a mental map of its environment, it can use it to navigate its environment more successfully,  and so live longer to pass on its genes. This map is most useful when it is accurate and expansive; then the animal can know what to do in all kinds of situations. Making our maps accurate and expansive is mental growth.\n\nSo it gives us a competitive advantage to grow mentally. Therapy is all about mental growth; therapy will improve a person's mental map, which will help them navigate their world, which will help  them to survive long enough to pass on their genes. Not only that, but if you are a grown individual, potential mates will spot that  and will find it attractive and sexy. Potential mates can gain an evolutionary advantage by coupling with someone who is very grown since the grown person will help protect their children and so help pass on the all important genes. People therefore find mentally developed individuals sexually attractive for selfish reasons.\n\nSo Dr Zab's therapy will help Hugh navigate his life better, and also be more attractive to the opposite sex. If Zab is helping Hugh, it seems irrational that Hugh should be resistant to Dr Zab's therapy. Why then does Hugh fight against mental growth?\n\nThe answer is that for many people, the need to be _perceived_ as mentally grown and sexy far outweighs the need to actually _be_ grown and sexy _in reality_. So long as potential mates _believe_ an individual to be grown, the individual can remain mentally stunted and still get to have sex and so pass on their genes. This perception of growth is what I call the _ladder of social esteem._ We want people to think we are high up on the ladder, so we can appear to be sexy and so find a mate. It is a selfish desire. The reality can be quite different from the perception. People may believe we are high up on the ladder, but in reality, our real lack of talent may place us quite low down in actual status.\n\nHuman nature here has split into two possible paths for survival: 1 - be grown, navigate life successfully and be sexy _in reality,_ or 2 - be mentally stunted, but succeed in appearing sexy by getting others to perceive you as grown - _not in reality_.\n\nThe way the stunted individual gets to be perceived as grown and sexy is to tell lies. When another person believes the lie, they are believing something which does not reflect reality: they now have a delusion. Here then we have found the birth of a mental illness, generated by the need for genetic survival.\n\nDr Zab was criticising Hugh when he implied that he was mentally ill, and with the stigma of mental illness being such as it is, Zab was saying that Hugh was low down on the ladder of social esteem. Zab was endeavouring to make Hugh's self perception match the reality of what he was – i.e. he was making Hugh's mental map more accurate. Hugh's violent reaction to Dr Zab was because he was frightened of slipping down the ladder of social esteem. The truth which Zab revealed made Hugh look foolish. Instinctively, and unconsciously, Hugh knew he would seem un-sexy, and so his genes were threatened with extinction. His genes fought to survive and drove him to aggressively attack Dr Zab. Hugh's anger was fighting the truth which Zab was revealing: that, in reality, Hugh was lower on the ladder of reality.\n\nThere is more here than just Hugh being inadequate. When Zab picked up on Hugh's bullying behaviour towards Susan, he was getting close to Hugh's _conscience_ , or rather lack of it. When we are questioned on matters of conscience, it generates a particularly violent defensive reaction, as we saw in the explosive dialogue between Hugh and Dr Zab. This is an overwhelmingly powerful mechanism which is part of our selfish genetic makeup. This genetically motivated selfishness which often harms others is what I call _genetic psychopathy_.\n\nOn the ladder of social esteem, we place conscientious people higher up. If there is something in our genes which makes us selfish, why then do we hold decent people in high regard? The answer is, again, because we are selfish.\n\nKind people are useful to have around. When we are involved with a kind, altruistic person, we know that they are not going to abuse us or take from us, and will often support us instead. And if they support us they will help us to survive and pass on our genes, so it is to our own selfish advantage to have altruistic people in our lives. So altruistic people are in demand as mates. It follows then that if we want others to desire us as a mate, we need to _appear_ to be altruistic. Again, the need for people to perceive us as altruistic outweighs the need to be altruistic in reality. If people believe us to be altruistic, we can still find a mate, whilst still carrying on with our selfish ways behind the scenes where no one is looking. We then win twice: if we can lie to hide our selfishness we can be attractive to mates, and also gain from our selfish behaviour.\n\nThis is the reason why selfish people, people who have genetic psychopathy, are compelled to maintain a decent public image at all costs. They have to present an altruistic public image to safeguard their own selfish desire to pass on their genes.\n\nBy a twisted logic, although the genetic psychopath clambers to be seen as altruistic and high on the ladder of social esteem, they do not actually admire people who are higher up. In fact, most of us dislike the people higher up on the ladder _because_ they make us look small by comparison. We want to be seen as kind, and we want kind mates, but curiously we often don't like people who are kind.\n\nThe idea of self-importance is what psychologists call _narcissism_ , and the over-blown public image which narcissists try to maintain is called their _false self._\n\nSo this anger that we see in Hugh is his genes' way of ensuring their survival. It is genetically selfish anger.\n\nThis theory of genetic psychopathy can explain some of the conflicts we have mentioned previously. In Hugh's story, the bullying he carried out with his colleagues on Susan was genetically motivated psychopathy. When the bullies attacked Susan, they were trying to send her down the ladder of social esteem. In reality, Susan was a grown responsible individual, but that threatened the status of Hugh and the other bullies – their false selves. So they ridiculed and persecuted her to make her look like the fool, so in relative terms they would rank higher in terms of social esteem. Or in other words, to promote their own genes' survival, they tried to destroy Susan.\n\nMy experience with the ill psychiatrist Dr Janet was another instance of genetic psychopathy. When I told her that I was intelligent, she could quite easily have accepted it, since it was true in any case. But when I said that, I was placing myself higher up on the ladder (which intellectually was where I was), and the implication of that was that my psychiatrist was below me. That threatened to make her look un-sexy, which threatened her ability to find a mate, which threatened the survival of her genes. So her knee-jerk, genetically programmed response was to counter my claim of high intelligence, and bring me down. My psychiatrist, Dr Janet, was and is, a genetic psychopath.\n\nThe other therapist I met, who also rejected this theory, was made to look small, because I had the information – on that particular topic I was more grown than her. So, like Dr Janet, she instinctively went on the attack against me. She was protecting her genes by damaging me – again another therapist who was a genetic psychopath.\n\nIn short, the genetic psychopath doesn't like grown people, since that makes them look inferior, less sexy, and so less likely to pass on their genes. So, there is a problem here for growth. The people low down on the ladder need the high up people to show them how to grow, but the high up people make the low down people feel inferior and angry. Consequently, the low down people attack the high up people and reject their kind guidance. It is therefore often difficult to get low down people to grow. They won't grow because they don't want to admit they are small. This paradoxical tension holds the world back from what it could be. The tension appears in the field of psychotherapy. It explains in genetic terms why people who need to grow reject the therapy which a benevolent therapist will offer (the therapist should, by definition, be someone who is higher up on the ladder, in reality). In our story, the reason why Hugh attacked Dr Zab was because Zab is grown and Hugh is a low-down, genetic psychopath.\n\nThis phenomenon of genetically-fuelled resistance to growth is extremely widespread and has major implications for global issues such as poverty, the environment, wars and religious beliefs, as we will see.\n\n## Defining Psychopathy\n\nThe issue of psychopathy is another area where common perceptions often do not match reality. In fact, this is even the case for people who study the disorder. When we think of psychopaths we think again of crazed murderers, criminals, paedophiles maybe. Such people may often be psychopaths in the accepted sense, but these are exceptional instances.\n\nIn the fields of psychotherapy and law experts require a firm grasp on what constitutes psychopathic behaviour. To this end, the American psychologist and psychopathy expert Dr Robert Hare developed the _Psychopathy Check List (Revised)_ (PCL-R) which allows a trained clinician to assess a person for psychopathy using an interview and a list of personality traits.1 A person gaining a score on the list above a certain level will be classed as a psychopath. The Check List identifies the following traits as symptomatic of psychopathy:\n\n\\- Emotional/Interpersonal Traits:\n\n\\- Glib and superficial\n\n\\- Egocentric and grandiose\n\n\\- Lack of remorse or guilt\n\n\\- Lack of empathy\n\n\\- Deceitful and manipulative\n\n\\- Shallow emotions\n\nSocial Deviance:\n\n\\- Impulsive\n\n\\- Poor behaviour controls\n\n\\- Need for excitement\n\n\\- Lack of responsibility\n\n\\- Early behaviour problems\n\n\\- Adult antisocial behaviour\n\nHare uses the scoring system to assess if an interviewee is a psychopath, but he makes it clear that any individual, including those not classed as psychopaths, may have any of the above symptoms. The consistent key symptom of the psychopath is that they lack conscience.\n\nCurrently the prevalence of this full-blown, rather extreme type of psychopath is thought to range from around 1 in 25 to 1 in 100.2 Psychopathy goes by other names. Some psychologists use the term _sociopathy_. Other texts highlight the cross over with _antisocial personality disorder_ and other personality disorders.\n\nCurrently the legal and clinical systems in America and the UK deem this kind of psychopathy not to be a mental illness, since the psychopath's behaviour is acted through choice which is freely exercised, unlike the behaviour of say a person who is severely psychotic and influenced by delusions. The British Mental Health Act (1983 ) deems severe psychopathy to be on occasion \"untreatable\". Thus, many severe psychopaths are more likely to end up in prison, than to be treated in a mental health unit. Although psychopathy is a mental disorder, legally it has to be classed otherwise since this is the only practicable way to manage severe cases. In any case, psychopaths are characterised by being largely content with themselves. They don't desire therapy by and large, partly as they instinctively know that therapy will get to the ugly truth of what they are.\n\nBut we are falling into a trap here. Clinicians seek a firm assessment of say an inmate in a prison or a patient in a mental health unit in order to best dispense the correct therapy or refer an individual to the legal authorities. They want a black and white result. But _the world is not black and white_. It is clear from observations of psychopathic behaviour that psychopathy is not a 'them and us' disorder, and in fact many psychologists believe psychopathy exists as a continuum. We must avoid the trap of taking an egotistical view of the world situation, by trying to fit the disorder into a neat box which does not accurately reflect reality. Psychologist Otto Kernberg holds the view that psychopathy is a continuum ranging from pathological narcissism at the lower end through malignant narcissism in the middle area, diagnosed as narcissistic personality disorder.3 Kernberg places clinical psychopathy at the high end of the scale. Other studies have also concluded psychopathy is more likely a continuum.4\n\nThe assessment of psychopathy which comes from gaining a high score on the PCL-R is then somewhat arbitrary and does not allow for the true nature of psychopathy as a continuum disorder. We need to understand all levels of psychopathy.\n\nWe can get a clearer idea of what psychopathy actually means if we look again to our genes. Psychopathy is a disorder of selfishness: a psychopath puts his or her own desires and needs before those of another person. Evolutionary theorists Kurland and Gaulin define genetically selfish acts as those that \"...confer a fitness benefit on the actor, while placing a fitness cost on the recipient.\"5 A fitness benefit is an increase in the chance that a life form will be able to reproduce, i.e. to pass on its genes. A fitness cost is the opposite. This definition of selfish behaviour contrasts with altruistic behaviour which the same theorists define as an act which confers a fitness benefit on the recipient at a cost to the actor. The theorists also define cooperative behaviour as an act which creates a mutual fitness benefit for two or more actors.\n\nOur study will take a more rigorous Zobian definition of psychopathy; remember anything short of mental perfection will be deemed to be a mental disorder when we put psychopathy under a Zobian microscope. To look closer at psychopathy the evolutionary theorists' definition of selfishness may be of use. If we were to adopt the definition of genetic selfishness for our definition of psychopathy, we would see a far wider range of behaviours which are psychopathic. Here are a few examples of behaviours which benefit the actor at the cost of someone else:\n\n\\- Drinking and driving – the actor saves personal energy in not having to walk and saves the money which may have been spent on a taxi, which lead to a fitness benefit, whilst risking killing someone else: a fitness cost for the recipient.\n\n\\- Speeding whilst driving – the actor saves time in the process of travel enabling him or her to maximise the time spent in more enjoyable pursuits which carry a fitness benefit (eating for example). The recipient (another road user) may potentially lose their life due to a more likely collision thus losing the ability to pass on their genes: a fitness cost.\n\n\\- Not holding a door open for someone – the actor saves energy, a fitness benefit. The recipient expends more energy: a fitness cost.\n\n\\- Dropping litter – the actor saves energy, a fitness benefit. Someone else has to clean it up, using energy: a fitness cost.\n\n\\- Allowing a dog to foul a pavement – the actor (the dog owner) is saved the energy used to clean it up: a benefit. The recipient is the person who cleans up the mess, which takes energy and is a fitness cost.\n\n\\- Fiddling a tax return, creating a benefit for the actor and making a cost to the rest of society.\n\nA footballer faking injury from a tackle, providing a higher chance of winning the game leading to the possibility of accruing more money which in turn can control resources and has a fitness benefit. The cost is for the opposite team who may lose money and subsequently the ability to control resources, which means a fitness cost.\n\nThese are all psychopathic actions which many people will have done at some time or other. It illustrates the prevalence of psychopathic actions by individuals who may fall below the benchmark for diagnosis as clinical psychopaths. Most of us fall below the clinical definition of psychopath, but most of us have made some psychopathic actions in our lives.\n\nWhy would psychologists underplay the prevalence of psychopathy? Part of the answer is that they need to study and work with the most destructive psychopaths and the milder forms of psychopathy, such as those listed above, are therefore deemed to be of less urgent concern to the clinicians. It also happens that the psychologists who assess people for psychopathy may themselves have degrees of the disorder, and it is in the nature of psychopathy that those who have the disorder will attempt to disguise the fact. It is possible that the people doing research into psychopathy set a very high benchmark for qualification because they are unconsciously disguising the fact that they also do psychopathic deeds on occasion. I found that a qualified psychiatrist can be a severe psychopath to my own great cost, when I met the dangerous Dr Janet. When she was supposedly treating me, it was to her advantage to make me look small – the fitness benefit was to boost her social esteem to make her seem sexier so she was more likely to pass on her genes. The fitness cost for me was that I was made to feel so wretched that she nearly drove me to suicide.\n\nDr Janet is an anecdotal example, but the fact that people with psychopathy can work in mental health is backed up by scientific examination. According to my CPN, a study was made of the psychopathic traits of the staff and patients in a mental health unit. It was a double blind study in that the psychologists interviewing the staff and patients didn't know who was a worker and who was a patient and the interviewees were unaware of what they were being interviewed about. The study found that a shocking _six out of ten of the_ _staff_ _showed symptoms of psychopathy_. This was particularly worrying as someone with psychopathy will often deliberately damage the mental health of those around them. In this case there was a great risk to the health of the patients in the unit, exactly the people whose mental health was in desperate need of rescuing.6 Dr Robert Hare recognises that some sexual predator psychopaths may find their way into the position of therapist, and describes the dangerous problem for the patients: \"If the victims complain, they may be traumatised further by a system primed to believe the therapist: 'My patient is clearly disturbed, hungry for affection, and prone to fantasy.'\"7 Therapists can be psychopaths.\n\nSurprisingly, the conventional wisdom is that most criminals are not psychopaths. Estimates are that only around 20 percent of prison inmates In America are psychopaths.8 In any case, most of the harmful psychopaths in the world do not get incarcerated; they are living among us.\n\nSo it is clear that recognised psychiatric measures of psychopathy, and those reached by use of the PCL-R, do not adequately define the disorder since many people who do milder psychopathic acts are not currently diagnosed as psychopaths.\n\nDo we then adopt the evolutionary psychologists' definition of genetic selfishness as a definition of psychopathy, rigorously pinning down the fitness benefit and cost between the actor and the recipient? This definition is still inadequate. For example, a blue whale has no choice but to eat krill. In this instance there would clearly be a fitness benefit to the actor (the whale) and a clear fitness cost (death) to the recipients (the krill). But since eating the krill would be unavoidable for the whale's survival, this would clearly not be selfish in the sense that we all understand the word. It is the word _avoidable_ then which needs to be a part of the definition of psychopathy. By avoidable, I mean an act which the actor can avoid doing, which will consequently present no problem for passing on the actor's genes.\n\nBut this is still not close enough to the real meaning of psychopathy. Consider, for example, a Catholic priest who sexually abuses a young boy. By the evolutionary psychologists' definition of selfishness this act doesn't count: in this case there is no genetic fitness benefit for the actor (the priest) since in such a homosexual encounter there is no chance that he can pass on his genes. In fact, as he is wasting his energy, this creates a fitness _cost_ to the priest. By the evolutionary psychologists' definition then, child abuse such as this would not be selfish! But we know that this would in reality be a selfish act (and I am arguing a psychopathic act too), so what we need to include in our definition are the concepts of _gratification_ and _suffering._ Gratification as a general rule does drive us on to acts which provide a fitness benefit. For example, we like sweet foods because they give us energy to live long enough to pass on our genes. So gratification is a step that leads along the path towards genetic reproduction, and as a rule it is gratification which we pursue in our minds. (We don't consciously think, \"I like chocolate because it helps me pass on my genes.\" We eat chocolate because it gratifies us.)\n\nSo I am going to use a Zobian definition of a psychopathic act in this book, which will be: _'An avoidable act which provides gratification or a fitness benefit to the actor, whilst creating suffering or a fitness cost to the recipient.'_\n\nFor the remainder of this book I will be using the term _genetic psychopath_ , or just _psychopath_ , to describe anyone who does any psychopathic action whatsoever, however minor. When I use the term psychopath it will describe anybody who is at any position on the psychopathic continuum. In doing so I am breaking free from the clinical definition of psychopath in order to describe more closely the true nature of psychopathy. To make a distinction I will use the terms _clinical psychopath_ or _severe psychopath_ to describe those individuals who a conventionally trained clinician would class as a psychopath, by use of the PCL-R.\n\n## My Psychopathy\n\nThe reader may be wondering if I, writing all about psychopathy, am looking down from my moral mountain at the wrong-doings of the rest of the world. This is certainly not the case, for I have been a psychopath myself.\n\nAs I have learned over the years, I have come to understand the true nature of psychopathy, and over the years those insights have provided me with a clearer mirror on my own psyche. I now, from time to time, think back to past times when I have done all kinds of hurtful selfish things, and I think about those things with great shame.\n\nI brought up the issue of bullying quite deliberately as when I was at school, there was a time when I joined in the bullying of a couple of other boys. Their lives were made hell by the whole of the rest of the class, and no doubt the misery we caused generated deep psychological scars. I suspect part of the reason I acted in this psychopathic manner was that I learned the tricks of the bully from others. I had people around me who would use sadistic cruel humour to belittle others, and instinctively, I seemed to pick up those nasty habits.\n\nThis psychopathic trait of mine was particularly sadistic. The fitness benefit for me when in that group of bullies was that I made myself one of the group. I became accepted and supported by the other bullies and thereby stronger in status so that ultimately I would have been in a better position to find a mate to pass on my genes. There was of course suffering and a fitness cost for the victim of the bullying. It is sadly often the case that victims of bullies are eventually driven to suicide – the ultimate fitness cost. My victim survived, but only after much misery.\n\nIn assessing my own psyche I have to avoid falling into the trap of ego. There is no black and white, and even though I am cured of being a bully, there are still dark corners in my psyche which I have to routinely shine a light into.\n\n##  Outlook on Psychopathy\n\nFighting psychopathy in oneself is not easy. In fact, it is almost certainly the hardest thing we ever have to do, and that is borne out by the often futile efforts of the therapists who may try to heal psychopathy in certain individuals.\n\nAgain, we must avoid the trap of fitting the universe into labelled boxes: most genetic psychopaths are not all bad. The old adage _there is good and bad in everyone_ is a cliché probably because it is true. Someone who neglects to hold a door open one day may donate to charity the next. There is no black and white.\n\nWe have broken down the clearly defined line between 'us' and the psychopaths, and rightly so since it is a part of our intrinsic genetic make-up. To varying degrees we are all psychopaths, but that risks watering down the meaning somewhat. We can't simply shrug our shoulders and say, \"Oh well, that's okay then, if we're all psychopaths we should accept it,\" because it isn't okay. There are mildly psychopathic acts and severely psychopathic acts, but they are all wrong and we can't accept any of them. It makes no logical sense to accept the lesser acts because they are not so bad. We wouldn't say \"Well murder is a terrible thing, therefore we should allow rape to carry on – it's not so bad.\" So we should challenge people who drop litter even though we also need to stop clinical psychopaths from committing murder.\n\nPsychopathy, genetically powered, is the secret pandemic. It creates most mental illnesses, probably all crime and a whole lot more suffering as we will see. As Dr Robert Hare put it, \"[psychopathy] is responsible for more social distress and disruption than all of the other psychiatric disorders combined.\"9 Clinical psychologist Dr Martha Stout summed the problem up well: \"dealing openly and directly with the facts about [psychopathy] is a matter of urgency for us all.\"10\n\nDr Zab and Hugh engaged for several hours on the issue of whether Hugh had been kind to Susan.\n\n\"So you see Hugh,\" said Zab \"when you tried to make Susan look foolish, you were in fact defending your own status – protecting your genes in a secret battle for survival.\"\n\nHugh was still unimpressed but wanted to hear what Zab had to say. \"And I expect you have a name for that then?\"\n\n\"Well, we call it _genetic psychopathy_.\"\n\n\"Genetic _psychopathy?\"_\n\n\"Yes, that's right.\"\n\nInside Hugh's mind, the pieces of the reality jigsaw were slowly slotting into place. \"That sounds like _psychopath_ ,\" he said with a disbelieving frown.\n\n\"Well, yes the two words describe the same thing.\"\n\nMore of the pieces fell into place. \"So are you calling me a _psychopath?_ \"\n\nDr Zab was cornered into an awkward position, but he couldn't deny it. \"Hmm, well, it's not so straightforward as that. I think we need to look closer.\"\n\nHugh paused for a few seconds and eventually confronted Dr Zab: \" _You think I'm a psychopath!_ \"\n\nZab said nothing and looked at Hugh. Hugh paused for a few more seconds then stood up and, with a sudden pulse of adrenaline shooting through his system, launched a fist in the direction of Dr Zab's chin.\n\nThe links to share and discuss this book on Facebook and Twitter are at::\n\nwww.TheShrinkFromPlanetZob.com.\n\n# 7 When Psychopaths Get Together\n\nIn the Zobian ship's computer the Automatic Violence Moderation Circuit detected an anomaly in Dr Zab's consulting room. Hugh's fist was half way to Zab's chin when the circuit intervened and froze Hugh once again, catching him in his moment of rage.\n\nDr Zab spoke to Hugh while Hugh was standing motionless in mid punch.\n\n\"Oh dear,\" he said with a disappointed sigh, \"I was afraid this might happen. Our computer has stopped you before you became violent. You see, our planet used to be like yours, we had violence and wars but now we have cured ourselves of this. We only need our computer to step in when we visit planets such as yours. I understand why you are angry, but I'm afraid you won't be able to assault me. We are going to keep you here until we have found a better way forward. I will release you from the stasis so we can talk.\"\n\nDr Zab activated his console and Hugh was released, by which time his aggression had dissolved into bewildered frustration and he slumped back into his seat.\n\nIt took a few more weeks with Dr Zab before Hugh came to see how his actions had been hurtful, and his shock at being called a psychopath steadily diminished as he learned what the term really meant.\n\nIn a later session the two were reflecting on the previous work. Hugh was in a buoyant mood when he raised the issue of psychopathy.\n\n\"What I didn't realise then,\" he said, \"was what psychopath actually means. I thought it was like an axe wielding murderer. I had no concept that it was so... well, ordinary. So I've made a firm decision which I think you will like. When I get back to Earth I'm going to stop the bullying, I will make up with Susan, and everything will be fine. Then I won't be a psychopath! If I do what you want I can go!\" Hugh grinned a grin towards Zab, looking for his Doctor's approval.\n\n\"Okay... that's promising...\" said Zab with hesitation, but he had spotted Hugh's tactic. Hugh was only correcting one issue in the hope that all else would be okay. But Zab knew that Hugh Manitee's disorder was bigger and more complicated than Hugh realised, and he couldn't afford to stop the therapy at this early stage, even if Hugh was heading in the right direction. \"You are right Hugh. Although there are axe wielding murderers who are psychopaths, most psychopaths never murder people, at least not physically. But you know, now that we have a clearer idea of what it means, we can look again at your world and see if we can sort out this global catastrophic disorder. You are making good progress, and I think we can take the work forward a little, by looking at another issue. Let me show you something on the viewer.\n\nOn the screen Zab showed Hugh his planet, and zoomed down to an area of desert in the Middle East. There was a military vehicle pulled up to a border fence. The soldiers were operating it from a distance. A missile on the vehicle erupted with flames as it launched itself up and out across the border into another land.\n\n\"This, Hugh, is happening now at the junction between two of these things you call _countries._ Can you explain what is going on here, and maybe tell me why countries are violent to each other?\"\n\n\"Well, I guess they must be at war,\" said Hugh.\n\n\"Yes, that's right. But, _why_ are they doing this?\"\n\n\"I don't know.\" Hugh was empty of ideas.\n\n\"These people are ill Hugh. They have the global catastrophic disorder.\"\n\nHugh was uncomfortable still but he was slightly relieved as it at least looked like the spotlight was going to be taken off him for a while.\n\nWe have reached the point in the study of Hugh's psyche where we not only label him as a psychopath, but now we can see he is actually a _violent_ psychopath as well! But, of course, that was not how he was perceived by himself, nor by the other people in his life. Hugh is ordinary - an ordinary violent psychopath. Again, Hugh's motivation in attacking Dr Zab was to defend his status. Dr Zab continues to send Hugh down the ladder of social esteem – down to where he is in reality. It threatens Hugh's public image and his false self, which makes him look un-sexy, which threatens his chances to find a mate, which makes it difficult for him to pass on his genes.\n\nHugh moves into another stage in the therapeutic process. In this chapter Hugh offers a compromise to Dr Zab. He asks if he makes up with Susan, whom he bullied, would Dr Zab then cut the therapy short and let him go. Hugh is still avoiding the uncomfortable pain of the therapeutic process. This new tactic he is trying, in order to avoid therapy, is known to therapists as _bargaining._ But Dr Zab intends to see the therapy through to its correct finish and will not let Hugh off the hook.\n\nDr Zab pushes Hugh onto the subject of war. He sees a mental health issue here, so let's glance at the psychology that drives war along.\n\nIf, like Dr Zab, we are to be global therapists, we first need to make an assessment of humanity's state of health with respect to war.\n\n## An Assessment Of War\n\nIn the 20th century alone there were around 105 separate wars with a total death toll of approximately 188 million.1 The figure includes military and civilian deaths from battle, genocide, tyranny and war related famine. That compares with a total of 4.126 billion other deaths for the same period, which makes the war related deaths some 4.5 percent of the total death toll. Many more people than that were injured, traumatised or had their possessions or homes destroyed.\n\nJust one war, the Iraq War of 2003 and the subsequent occupation, led to the deaths of 654,965 people.2 More have probably died since that figure was calculated in 2006.\n\nIn America's greatest conflict, the Vietnam War, some 3-4 million Vietnamese died as well as 1.5 to 2 million Laotians and Cambodians.3 Over 3 million Americans served in the War, with an average age of 19. Of these, an estimated 58,132 died, over 150,000 were wounded and another 21,000 were physically disabled. The Veterans Administration calculated that 830,000 Vietnam veterans suffered post-traumatic stress disorder experiencing symptoms such as flash-backs, nightmares, guilt, depression, anger and anxiety. This amounts to around 28 percent of all those who experienced combat. Of these, 480,000 were so badly affected that they were considered disabled. Several hundred thousand American soldiers were exposed to defoliants, such as Agent Orange. The estimated cost of the war in Vietnam during the Kennedy, Johnson, and Nixon administrations was US $176 billion.4\n\nIn 2008 global military spending was US $1.46 trillion or 2.4 percent of the world's total GDP. The figure fell after the end of the Cold War but has risen in the past decade.5 We give far less as aid; the figure compares with a global Official Development Assistance for the same year of just over US $146 billion,6 one tenth as much as the military expenditure.\n\nThe world currently has around 23,230 nuclear warheads, enough to destroy all of humanity. The UK's Trident nuclear missile system alone was bought for a total of £14.9 billion (at 2005 pound values).7 In the year 2007-2008 the UK was estimated to spend approximately £2–2.2 billion on maintenance of the four nuclear submarines and 160 nuclear warheads.8 It is a weapon which can kill millions with a single warhead and has no effective use in the current 'war on terror'. Its legality was brought into question when in 1996 the UN International Court of Justice issued an advisory opinion that the threat or use of nuclear weapons would probably violate various articles of international law, including the Geneva Conventions, the Hague Conventions, the UN Charter, and the Universal Declaration of Human Rights.9\n\nThe poorest countries are especially prone to civil wars, which start at around two per year. The cost to the world for this is over US $105 billion per year or around double the global aid budget.10 In a poor country, a typical 7 year civil war will make the country 15 percent poorer.11\n\nClearly this manner of running the world leaves a lot to be desired.\n\n## The Smallest of Conflicts\n\nThere are various attempts to explain wars, but it is straightforward to see that war is in fact a mental health issue. We can see this if we remember that every action for every person on Earth is first controlled by a thought. Every war then must be initiated by thoughts. If we decide that wars are an unhealthy way of going about things, it follows that our thinking must be unhealthy. In other words wars _have_ to be caused by mental illness. To bring an end to war then, we have only one choice: we must look into the psychological causes of war and see if we can find the cure. We can gain some clarity if we examine the war process in terms of genetic drives, in particular in terms of genetic psychopathy. We must be cautious not to over-simplify the causes of war, but having said that we are going to take the simplest example we can and look at conflict in a group of four people.\n\nImagine a party of three explorers heading out into a remote wilderness where survival is a critical issue. There are pressures on the group caused by the need to find shelter, food and water, and the group intends to work together in the struggle to survive in an inhospitable environment. They set up camp and eat before retiring to sleep, leaving their emergency rations nearby. In the night a bear enters the camp, finds the food and steals it while the group is asleep. The following morning the explorers wake to find their rations missing, but the bear left no sign that it had been around. The survival pressure on the group is intensified by the loss of the food and ignites a fear of dying and genetic anger in each of the explorers - each has had his or her territory encroached on by someone or something else and each is motivated by a deep, primeval instinct to seek out the perpetrator and deal with them.\n\nAt this stage, the explorers are relying on their current mental maps, and their maps tell them stories about how they have been wronged by others in their past. Without conscious thought, they equate the missing food with thieves from their pasts who had wronged them; there may be instances of transference occurring in the group. Following their old mental maps they look for another human to blame, ignoring the possibility that an animal could have stolen the food. They start to suspect each other of being the thief.\n\nThe personalities of the three group members differ in key ways. The group leader has a dominant personality; she is an 'alpha female'. Her instinct to pass on her genes is very strong, although she is unaware of what she is doing when she engages in interpersonal battles for supremacy. Her survival tactic throughout life is to beat others into submission by being actively aggressive. The aggression is not physical and usually not even overtly abusive, but she will typically speak out without hesitation, often talking over others, stating her opinions as proven facts which are beyond doubt. Any person questioning her is dealt with firmly. She has to maintain her status as a strong leader so others will see her as an attractive mate. She wants to be seen as the kind of person who will strongly protect her offspring. In this way, she becomes desirable to others since, by protecting herself and her offspring, she will also protect the genes of any person she had created offspring with.\n\nAnother person in the group is an intellectual. She does not have a dominant personality, but with her talented mind she sees clearly how her environment works and so is able to navigate her world successfully, rendering her more able to survive long enough to make children. Her survival tool is her mind. She observes people and sees how they play games in order to survive. In her intellectual world she has found ways of cooperating with others, ensuring that all members of a group can successfully survive. This woman then has a high degree of compassion towards others, allowing them to survive alongside her. She too is sexually desirable, since anyone mating with her, will be selecting an intelligent mother who will more likely live a long time. And a compassionate mother such as this will take greater care to ensure the survival of her mate and their offspring. (Note that intellectuals are not necessarily altruistic; many are psychopaths.)\n\nThe intellectual, understanding her world well, had the foresight to bring a hammock. She slept between the trees free from the bugs which crawl around on the ground. The alpha looks at the hammock with covetous eyes.\n\nFrom this difference in two personalities is born a conflict. Both the alpha female and the compassionate intellectual wish to pass on their genes, but they are competing for survival. If one finds a mate, it means the other one may miss out. This knowledge resides deep in the alpha female's psyche. She is not conscious of her desire to pass on her genes, but instinctively she sees the intellectual as the enemy. She is aware of the intellectual's attractiveness, so in order for the alpha's genes to be passed on, she must destroy the intellectual.\n\nThe third member of the group is neither an intellectual or an alpha, he has a personality akin to that of a sheep. He does not try to dominate others to survive nor does he understand well his world, so neither of these tactics are used to pass on his genes. He follows others and for much of the time not only lacks intellectual powers, but chooses to avoid thinking for himself. Thinking involves difficult work, work which uses valuable energy which could be used to procreate. He is a lazy sheep and relies on other people's efforts. Being a dim, lazy sheep may be seen as weak and a poor option for passing on his genes, but in fact this can be very useful for helping his genes to survive. This sheep lets others do the work of leading and thinking, so he saves valuable energy there. But he has another tactic up his sleeve which he uses to ensure the survival of his genes. He latches on to power, like a genetic parasite. If there is a conflict, he will, without recourse to reason or conscience, side with the greater power. If he can procreate with a powerful mate, then he has succeeded in passing on his genes. His apparent weakness is in fact a very useful tool to ensure his genes' survival.\n\nEven though he seems meek, the power is now in the hands of the sheep. The alpha knows that if she is to beat the intellectual, she must become more powerful, and she knows she can do this if she has someone fighting on her side. She must seduce the sheep to become her ally.\n\nThe alpha female wishes to destroy the compassionate intellectual, because they are competing for their genes' survival. At this stage, physical attack is not an option. If the alpha were to assault the intellectual straight away it would be unprovoked and that would look bad to the sheep who is lazily watching the proceedings. That could cause the sheep to side with the intellectual, something the alpha cannot allow.\n\nThe compassionate intellectual wishes to pass on her genes too, but this is not selfish, for she does not wish to do this at the expense of anyone else's genes. Our definition of genetic psychopathy required a fitness cost to the recipient, and since the intellectual does not act to generate a cost for another person, she is not a psychopath.\n\nThe alpha female is different. For her, her own genetic survival is paramount, and she will quite happily ensure her own genes survive whilst ensuring other people's genes die out. She is a severe genetic psychopath. We have seen how lying is a very typical symptom of psychopathy, so it is no surprise that the alpha instinctively turns to the lie to help her survival.\n\nIn the camp, a row breaks out about the lost food between the alpha and the intellectual. The sheep watches. The genetic pressure on the alpha wells up inside her without her even being conscious of it. Deep down she hates the intellectual for the sole reason that the intellectual threatens her survival. Eventually, the alpha accuses the intellectual of eating the lost rations. It is a lie, and deep in the alpha's unconscious she knows it is a lie, but she will not look inside herself to acknowledge the truth as the truth is too inconvenient. In fact, the alpha convinces _herself_ that she is speaking the truth; it is more palatable to delude herself than to admit she is a bad person. The intellectual protests. A flicker of eyes reveals the war which is steadily erupting. Both women glance to the sheep to rally support. (I have witnessed this recruitment of a third party numerous times in real life conflict situations.) The sheep dithers for a while under the pressure which he prefers to avoid, being a coward. But then he meekly moves to stand near the alpha, and the alpha knows she is winning. The intellectual experiences great stress. Now the alpha has an army and is more powerful. With her unthinking army to back her up, she has worked herself into a position of authority from where she can dictate with rules which are always self serving. This kind of group-army which is pulled together to ensure genetic survival is what I call a _power clique_.\n\nThe sheep is happy too. The intellectual becomes the scapegoat, the enemy and the victim of the alpha's bullying. And while hatred focuses on the intellectual, hatred is _not_ focused on the sheep. By being a sheep, he has got himself into a very comfortable position, being protected by the alpha. The sheep is protecting his own genes, at the cost of the intellectual's genes. He is therefore also a genetic psychopath.\n\nThe lies are a good opportunity for the alpha and the sheep to take the spotlight off their own lack of conscience, for it is the greater conscience of the intellectual which is shining a light on the lack of morals of the other two. Lies are put about by the alpha that it is the intellectual who is the evil one, the thief and the liar. Psychologists call this _projection._ The alpha and the sheep project their own lack of conscience onto the intellectual. They demonise her.\n\nThe projection passes back and forth between the alpha and the sheep. Each time they talk about how bad the intellectual is they reinforce each other's opinion until they are both completely convinced of the evil nature of the intellectual. Like Chinese whispers, the rumours about the wrong-doer escalate. Psychologists have studied this phenomenon and refer to it as _pyramid persecution._ Fairly soon the alpha and the sheep believe that life will be good again if they can only get rid of the root of all evil – the intellectual. In the back of their minds they think about an invasion into the intellectual's space to kill her off.\n\nThe intellectual is now in a difficult position. If she does not understand the nature of the alpha's psychopathy she may doubt herself; she is already anxious and the conflict may also make her neurotic. Being generally a compassionate and truthful sort, she sees the injustice being dealt to her and she wishes to right the wrong. She is also angry, but she is outnumbered. If she escalates the conflict with the alpha psychopath, there is now a great risk that she will be the one to die and so not pass on her genes. To ensure her genetic survival she backs down for the time being.\n\nFurther into the expedition the threesome encounters a lone explorer, a man who is notable only by his great ordinariness. He has degrees of selfishness, but he also has degrees of conscience. Without much by way of introductions, the competing alpha and intellectual set about recruiting the newcomer onto their respective sides. The alpha is charismatic, skilled at lying, and her army is already larger. These are two reasons for the ordinary man to side with the alpha, but he is still uncertain. The alpha's account of events seems to be backed up by a witness – the sheep , and this is enough to sway the newcomer onto the alpha's side. So the alpha's army grows to three. In Mr Ordinary's mind there exists a logic which says that if a large number of people hold an opinion, then that opinion must be right. This is a dangerous fallacy. For example, for a long time, millions of British people thought it acceptable that Britain could allowably invade and occupy India. But it wasn't acceptable. As Gandhi said \"If I am a minority of one, the truth is still the truth.\" In the camp, the intellectual is outnumbered three to one, but she still speaks the truth.\n\nThe group has drifted towards what psychologists call _groupthink._ In a group, members will typically add their support to the consensus view. This is often to avoid being the outsider who is deemed to be foolish or dangerous, to gain the security of being within the group. Groupthink stifles voices of dissent – in our scenario the truthful opinions of the intellectual. Creative and critical thinking are forced out of the group as the unhealthy consensus view is pushed forward.\n\nMr Ordinary sides with the larger group for genetically selfish reason too. As a part of a larger group, or army, he can gain more soldiers to fight on his side, thus ensuring more certainly his own survival.\n\nThe ordinary man is convinced of the evil intent in the intellectual. His mental map differs from reality so he has now acquired a delusion, another mental disorder.\n\nEventually, the alpha becomes so secure of her supremacy that she deliberately sparks off another row. Anger takes over and the alpha and the intellectual square up to each other on the brink of physical war. After projecting a few more false accusations at the intellectual,  in front of her own army, the alpha casts the intellectual out of the camp, and the war is won. The alpha makes sure she keeps much of the intellectual's property for herself before the expulsion, including the important hammock, free from the bugs. Gaining the spoils of war means having more tools to survive to pass on those all important genes. The alpha rewards her army with a share of the ill gotten gains, increasing the strength of their bond and making the army ever more devoted to the alpha's cause.\n\n##  Group Conformity\n\nThe power of conformity with group opinion was demonstrated in an experiment carried out by psychologist Solomon Asch in 1951.12 Look at the lines shown below. Which one of the three lines A, B or C on the right is the same length as the single line to the left?\n\nClearly it's line C. But in the experiment by Asch, 76 percent of participants were led to choose either line A or B as the correct line, at least once. Asch had initially set out to show that people would make good rational decisions where there was no ambiguity. If there is ambiguity, it would make good sense to check with someone else what the correct answer is. But he found that even for unambiguous questions, people would still conform to a consensus opinion.\n\nAsch gathered together nine male undergraduates in a room; one of these was the participant being studied, and the other eight were stooges posing as participants. Each was shown the set of lines. Then each participant was asked to call out the line A, B or C, which they thought was the same length as the solitary line. This was repeated twelve times with different variations of the line diagram. The stooges were instructed to call out the line which was too short for half of the time, and for the remaining half of the tests, the line that was too long. The genuine participant was sixth in line to call out the answer, after five of the other false participants had already answered incorrectly.\n\nRemarkably Asch found that 50 percent of participants offered the same incorrect answer as the stooges on more than half of the tests. Only 25 percent of the participants remained resolute in their choice of the correct answer on all of the twelve trials. Five percent of participants conformed every time with the consensus wrong answer. And on average the conformity rate for the wrong answers was 33 percent.\n\nIn interview after the experiment all of the participants reported that they felt anxious. They were concerned about group disapproval and they became self conscious. Most decided that the group was correct even after they had seen the lines differently. Some knew the group was wrong but still went along with the group's decision nonetheless. Some, in interview, went so far as to lie that they had seen the lines the same way as the group, presumably to avoid the fear of embarrassment.\n\nThe experiment has been carried out many times since with variations and has repeatedly shown conformity to be high, even for clearly unambiguous questions. Conformity varies between cultures with higher conformity typically in people from Eastern societies where conformity is viewed more favourably.\n\nThis study should ring alarm bells when we look into war. For a young Iranian man surrounded by a group which insists all westerners are immoral infidels, the group pressure to conform will often be overwhelming and he may be persuaded to join in a Jihad against the West. Conversely, a British woman may be told by her group of friends that Muslims are intent on taking over her country to bring about Shariah law. She may crumble to the pressure and endorse an invasion of Iran. Whether Iranian or British, each person is under peer pressure which drives them along the path to war. (Note that these are ambiguous opinions concerning countries: Asch's experiment revealed group conformity with unambiguous falsehoods, so we can expect real life pressures to conform to be even more powerful than Asch discovered.)\n\nThere exists then, a mechanism whereby the armies of psychopaths may grow, and as we saw in our story of the explorers, the larger they grow, the more likely they are to continue to grow as progressively more ordinary people are seduced, a mechanism which positively reinforces itself.\n\n##  Contagious Psychopathy in Groups\n\nThis natural growth of a psychopathic power clique is borne out by experiments. In one series of now famous experiments, psychologist Stanley Milgram invited in couples of participants to take part in a study on memory and learning.13 The test was ostensibly to study how painful electric shocks might influence the ability to learn. One participant, the teacher, would set learning tasks to another, the learner, who would try to answer the tasks correctly. The pair drew lots to decide who would be teacher and learner but the draw was rigged so the person being studied would always be the teacher. In view of the teacher, the learner was attached to electrodes which would provide the shocks, and was strapped into their chair \"to prevent excessive movement.\" The teacher was seated out of sight of the learner and in front of a device called a \"shock generator\". The machine had a series of buttons for applying the shocks labelled from 15 to 450 volts in 15 volt increments. Alongside the voltages were other labels ranging from \"SLIGHT SHOCK\" for the lowest to \"DANGER – SEVERE SHOCK\" for the highest voltage. The scientist stood by the teacher, wearing a grey lab coat. In the experiment, the teacher was given a list of word pairs (blue box, nice day, wild duck etc.) which the learner was supposed to remember. The teacher called out half of a pair and the learner was supposed to answer with the correct corresponding word. If the learner got the answer right, the teacher moved on to the next pair. If the learner answered incorrectly, the teacher had to administer an electric shock. Shocks started at the lowest voltage and were increased in increments for each wrong answer, becoming progressively more painful. There was in fact no risk to the learner, since the learner was an actor helping with the experiment and no electric shocks were given: it was the teacher who was the subject of study. As the shocks became steadily bigger the learner began to protest. At 75 volts the learner grunts, at 120 volts shouts that it is becoming painful, at 150 volts the unseen learner demands to be released from the straps. By the time 285 volts is reached, the learner was screaming in agony. The teachers being studied would usually, as the shocks increased, show concern that the shocks were harming the learner and ask to cease the experiment, to which the scientist would offer set remarks such as \"please continue,\" and \"the experiment requires that you continue.\" If after four such prods by the scientist the teacher still wanted to stop, then the experiment was halted, otherwise the shocks continued and the experiment was only stopped after three shocks were given at the maximum 450 volts. When the larger shocks were applied the learner would bang on the wall. In one version of the experiment the learner complained of a heart condition. Eventually, at the highest voltage, the learner would fall silent giving the impression that they had either died or lost consciousness.\n\nThe experiment was repeated forty times with people who were \"in everyday life responsible and decent\", normal people including high school teachers, engineers, salesmen, manual labourers and postal clerks (like our very ordinary Hugh Manitee).\n\nThe astonishing result was that 65 percent of the teachers were prepared to administer a potentially fatal electric shock if told to do so by the scientist. In a variation on the experiment where another person present pressed the switches for the shocks, the number of people willing to cooperate with the experiment was even higher at 93.5 percent. There was no significant difference between men and women who took part.\n\nThe usual interpretation of the experiment is that people will happily follow someone in authority, even if it means severely harming another person. That has major implications for war, as it shows people will often obey without question the commands of war leaders – politicians and military officers. But responsibility is the key. In the experiment, when the subject is ordered to continue by the authority figure of the man in the white coat, responsibility is abdicated and the subject feels free to act without any problems regarding conscience. And the disorder which applies to those who lack conscience is, of course, psychopathy. Participants were willing to give the shocks if they perceived the scientist as an authority who took the responsibility. In a variation of the experiment where the scientist was replaced by an \"ordinary man\" giving the orders to shock the learner, obedience fell to 20 percent. It clearly reveals how most of us will blindly follow harmful orders if we perceive they come from an authority.\n\nThe experiment also shows us something about psychopathy and power cliques - that psychopathy can be contagious inside groups. When the experiment was carried out without the scientist present, only around 20 percent of the teachers opted to administer the shocks. They sometimes cheated by only administering the lowest shock levels on the machine. Clearly inside many of the participants there was indeed some kind of conscience. In another variation of the experiment there were two other teachers present, who were also actors. When these acting teachers refused to administer the shocks, the proportion of participants who would apply the shocks fell from 65 percent down to 10 percent. So with the scientist and another person willing to apply the shocks present, obedience was 92.5 percent, with two altruistic actors present who refused to administer shocks, obedience fell to 10 percent: an enormous difference.\n\nThe fact that the percentage of people willing to give the shocks was so high in the presence of the scientist, and even higher when another person was willing to administer the shocks, shows that psychopathic behaviour can be generated (there must be few more psychopathic acts than torturing someone to death with an electric shock!) So why did ordinary, apparently kind people become dangerous psychopaths? The answer is probably in the power clique theory that we have described. If the teacher disobeyed the scientist they would be creating a conflict, placing themselves on the outside of the group by displaying contradictory altruistic values. Unconsciously the teacher didn't want to incur the wrath of the scientist by being the next one in line to be picked on, so they opted to stay on the scientist's side, inside the clique where it was safe. Being inside the power clique meant they would be more likely to survive to pass on their genes. When the scientist was not present, there was no power clique to influence them so they were free to act in an altruistic fashion. The version with the two altruistic acting teachers also confirms the power clique theory. In that case the clique was altruistic, the participant wanted to remain in the clique for selfish reasons, so they acted altruistically in order to fit in.\n\nThe bottom line is that there was selfishness inside the 65 percent of people who gave the apparently fatal shocks. It is hard to influence such selfishness as it is genetically programmed, but the good news is that the psychopathic _behaviour can_ be influenced: the teacher would display psychopathic or altruistic behaviour depending on the values of the group of which they were a part.\n\nWhen psychology students were asked to predict the result of the experiment, most said that the subjects would not continue with the shock, essentially telling the experimenter to go to hell.14 They were wrong. This demonstrates how naive we are as to the nature of psychopathy: we think most people are kind altruists, but the truth is that most people would be prepared to torture somebody else to death. Something dark lurks inside us. We may be tempted to think that really the psychopathy was only in the experimenter, but there was certainly darkness in the subjects of the study. As one of the teachers who applied severe electric shocks said in interview years later, \"I enjoyed it.\" He was an ordinary man.\n\nA similar effect was found in experiments carried out by psychologists John Darley and Bib Latané.15 Students were invited to take part in a market research survey. The students arrived at an office where a young woman gave them some questionnaires to fill out and asked them to take a seat while she went into another part of the room which was separated by a curtain. In short order, there were noises from behind the curtain which gave the impression the woman had climbed onto a chair to reach something from a high shelf and had fallen. She called, \"Oh my God, my foot...\" \"I... I... can't move... it. Oh, my ankle. I... can't... can't... get... this thing off... me.\" She called out in this manner for about a minute. Around 70 percent of the students who were alone in the waiting room went to the woman's assistance. However, in some tests a stooge who didn't offer to help was present alongside the student. In these instances the proportion of students who went to help fell to only 7 percent. When there were two genuine students present and no stooge the proportion offering to help was still much lower than the 70 percent from when they were alone. The 'bystander effect' was causing people to lose their altruistic values. Similar results have been found in other experiments.16 As with our explorer scenario and Milgram's experiments we can see that an otherwise ordinary and fairly altruistic individual can be seduced into psychopathic behaviour if it means they can be accepted as part of that psychopathic group.\n\nThe military have been sure to make use of the bystander effect. When soldiers are left to their own devices in a battle, it has been found that many will listen to their conscience which tells them it is wrong to kill and they may shoot to miss or not fire at all. One study found that while their leaders were present and commanding them, almost all soldiers obeyed and fired their weapons, but when those leaders left, the rate of shooting to kill fell dramatically to between 15 and 20 percent.17 As a result, to ensure there is enough killing going on, leaders make themselves present at the firing line. The good news is that people don't usually want to kill. The bad news is they want to be outside their power clique even less.\n\nI have had my morals influenced by groups in a similar fashion, both for the better and for the worse. Once, at University I moved into a shared house with my girlfriend and some other students. My girlfriend and I were first to arrive. We checked out the various bedrooms, and immediately my girlfriend spotted the largest room and said , \"Ooh, I'm having this one!\" For one moment I felt that was wrong and unfair on the other house mates, but I quickly put aside my morals and copied my girlfriend by taking the other large bedroom for myself. I acquired a degree of psychopathy by copying my girlfriend.\n\nAnother time, again at University, I returned from a caving trip in Yorkshire. I had removed some small stalactites from the cave as souvenirs and I offered one to a friend who received it with great pleasure. Another caver watched and reprimanded us for damaging a natural environment. Immediately my friend gave me back her stalactite when she realised it was wrong. I also felt profoundly guilty, and now I do everything I can to protect the natural world. In that instance I shifted from selfish and destructive behaviour to more conscientious, again influenced by the moral values of somebody I was with.\n\n## Wars Are Easy To Start\n\nThe ease with which we fall into power cliques that go on to wage wars was demonstrated in another now famous social psychology experiment carried out by psychologist Muzafer Sherif in 1954.18 Twenty-two eleven year-old boys were taken to a summer camp at Robber's Cave State Park, Oklahoma, unaware that they were to be the subjects in a psychological experiment. Before arriving at the camp the boys, who were previously not acquainted, were arbitrarily divided into two separate groups. On arrival, each group was given accommodation in separate cabins, and for the first week of the stay they were not told about the existence of the other group. For this week they spent time forming bonds with their fellow campers, through activities such as swimming and hiking. The groups were asked to choose names for themselves; one group called themselves the Rattlers, the other group the Eagles.\n\nAfter a week the experiment moved on to the second stage and the groups were introduced to each other. It wasn't long before signs of conflict between the groups started to emerge by way of verbal abuse. The experimenters wanted to see how far the conflict could be escalated and so they set the groups against each other using various competitions. When the Rattlers won on scores for the competitive tasks, the hostility between the groups steadily grew. The Rattlers eventually laid claim to the playing field by planting their flag onto it. The name calling escalated and developed into the singing of derogatory songs. Before long the two groups were refusing to eat together in the same room.\n\nNow the psychologists had successfully established the conflict between the groups, the experiment entered the final stage. The experimenters wished to see if they could bring peace to the groups and heal the rift which they had created. They first tried to bring the groups together by providing them with activities which they would have to take part in as one large group, such as watching a movie or letting off fireworks. The attempts failed. Then a different approach was tried. The groups were taken to a new location and presented with a variety of problems to solve. In the first problem the boys were told that their supply of drinking water had been damaged by vandals, which they were then asked to fix. The two groups worked together to mend a tap and a glimpse of reconciliation was brought back into the camp. In the second task, the boys were asked to pool their money together to pay for a film which they watched together. In the evening, peace had come about and the boys were eating once more in the same room.\n\nWith more 'accidental' problems discovered over the next few days, peace became well established. In each case the conflict was eased by a new problem which was more significant than the rivalry between the groups.\n\nSherif argued that groups organically develop their own cultures, their status structures and geographical boundaries. The experiment showed how easily we fall into groups – power cliques – which are essentially completely arbitrary in their origin, and yet those arbitrary groups can generate violent conflicts.\n\nSome descriptions of the Robber's Cave experiment neglect to mention that this was the third attempt at the experiment; two previous attempts had less than happy outcomes. In the first of the experiments, the boys ganged up on a common enemy, and in the second attempt they ganged up on the psychologists themselves. But all three of the experiments confirm the power clique theory. In each case, a common enemy was generated – either another group, the experimenters themselves or the problematic tasks. Each time the two groups came together to form a larger power clique. This coalition generated peace between the two groups but still allowed war to be waged on those outside the group. In each instance, it was the boys' innate need to survive which drove them on to waging war against those outside the clique.\n\nThe experiment demonstrates again the need for altruistic leadership. When the experimenters were arguably psychopathic, encouraging conflict, the boys followed suit: when the experimenters were altruistic and fostered good relations, again the boys followed suit. To cure war then, we need strong leaders who promote peace.\n\nThe Robber's Cave experiment suggests that if we are to bring peace to the world, we may need a common enemy. If an alien species from another planet were to invade Earth, that could be provided and in such an instance no doubt humanity would miraculously unite. But that is unlikely. Our wars are being waged against ourselves. At present there is no common enemy to bring peace on a global scale.\n\n## We Fall Easily Into Power Cliques\n\nThe formation of groups, or power cliques, is powerful and has major ramifications for the GCD; we slip into this mode of behaviour remarkably quickly. In another experiment by social psychologist Henry Tajfel, the limit of how quickly people will form into a group was investigated.\n\nTajfel and his colleagues brought together fourteen and fifteen year old boys to their lab and showed them paintings by the artists Klee and Kandinsky.19 The boys were instructed to choose their favourite painting and told their preference would decide which group they would be placed into. There were no groups, in fact, but the boys did not know this. The boys weren't told why the groups were divided as they were or what there was to gain or lose from being within a certain group.\n\nAfter the experiment was set up, each boy was taken in turn to a cubicle and was asked to share out virtual money to the members of the groups. The only information the boys had was a code number for each of the boys and which group they belonged to. When the boys shared out the money it was found that they would favour their own group over the other. The experiment has been repeated many times with the same result. In fact, participants would favour their own group even in a situation with a more minimal bond than this division on the preference of a painting.\n\nRemember each boy had nothing to gain from favouring his own group, and yet they still fell into that pattern of behaviour. In the real world we might benefit from favouring our own group, so this self-serving behaviour is probably even more prevalent in reality. It is, of course, another glimpse of the dark inner nature of humanity. Again, it shows there is a massively powerful drive within us to form into a large power clique, which will normally be self serving. Since there is a fitness cost to other groups and a fitness benefit for one's own group, and as the behaviour is normally avoidable, it is again psychopathic. The boys in the study were genetic psychopaths.\n\n## Power Cliques Grow\n\nOur own story of the explorers was a simple scenario to understand: a mini war which was generated by genetic psychopathy. It is a scenario which reflects what happens in wars between countries.\n\nIt is easy to imagine similar scenarios occurring thousands of years ago where small groups had to compete for land and resources. The dynamics described above would generate progressively larger and larger power cliques. Each power clique would naturally be delineated by a geographical boundary between them. At the smallest scale, the power clique will start literally in groups of twos and threes as we saw in our story. An obvious small power clique would be a family unit. It makes good genetic sense for a family to fight on the same side as they share common genes, so if a brother is fighting to protect his sister, he is in fact protecting a person who shares a large proportion of the same genes. The two will fight together for genetically selfish reasons. A family unit would lay claim to the land close to its home. Each individual would want to be in a larger army in order to ensure the survival of his or her own genes. Family cliques would naturally grow to become tribal cliques, members gaining a larger army to defend against other invading tribes. If one tribe invaded and overthrew another they would acquire the land from the loser, thus the larger power cliques formed after the conflict would possess larger tracts of land and the demarcation lines between tribal areas would be positions of potential conflict. The power cliques would grow and with them the size of the clique's area, from the size of huts, to villages, and larger tribal cliques might lay claim to valleys. From there, the friction between valley tribes would create ever larger wars whose winners might claim an entire region. Regional tribes would meet in conflicts, invading each other's territory, exerting psychopathic dominance and stealing resources. On goes the process, eventually forming power cliques of millions of individuals with tribal boundaries which we have come to know as _countries_. The power cliques, the land masses which they claim and the scale of the wars between cliques all have a tendency to grow larger. The bottom line of the process is that countries are probably the products of genetic psychopathy, as are wars. Not only that, but since countries have no basis in physical reality, they are in fact delusions. People who believe in the existence of countries are suffering from a mental illness. This is a Zobian standard of mental health of course, but by this measure alone we can say that pretty much every person on Earth is mentally ill, at least in regards to one issue: that of countries.\n\nThe individuals who presided over those ever expanding power cliques years ago were quite likely severe psychopaths, just as the alpha in our story is a powerful psychopath. There have been plenty such psychopathic tyrants in living memory: Hitler, Mussolini, Stalin and Idi Amin, to name just a few. Plenty more are still in power. Being genetic psychopaths, such people will endeavour to pass on power in such a way as to protect the survival of their own genes. It is no surprise that psychopathic leaders try to pass on their power through their family, and so we get family dynasties and monarchies. The conclusion here is that many (or perhaps all) of the monarchies that we see in our world today are only there because someone in the past was a successful psychopath. One who invented a rule that power would always get passed down to their offspring. Even a person so apparently kindly as the Queen of England is almost certainly only there because she is the descendent of very successful genetic psychopaths. Amongst much else, psychopathy creates monarchies. And since royal families are in reality no different to any other family, anybody who believes them to be special is suffering from a delusion. Monarchists are mentally ill, and there are a lot of them. It's another Zobian measure of mental health.\n\nAt the same time as creating larger wars, expanding power cliques also bring about peace. If, say, a thousand years ago the island of Great Britain was occupied by a thousand different tribes, each with a relatively small area, there would quite likely be hundreds of conflicts going on at any one time. But each conflict would be between two small tribes in a small area, so each war would be on a fairly small scale. When the island of Great Britain united, internal wars over claims to land ceased; there is relative peace _within_ the island. However, the larger power clique, the UK, does still engage in wars with other countries. These wars are far larger but probably less frequent. In the shift from many small wars to fewer large wars, the annual death toll may not have changed a great deal, but there is probably no way of knowing for certain.\n\nMilgram's electric shock experiment showed how psychopathic power cliques can grow, eventually up to a scale which can create wars. The 65 or 92.5 percent of people who joined the psychopathic power clique in that experiment is probably an underestimate of what would happen in a real war scenario. In Milgram's experiment, the participant (the teacher) was in no real personal danger; there would be no repercussions if they did not obey the authority of the scientist. In a real war situation, those defying their country's power clique would be in far greater peril, sometimes risking imprisonment or even death. We should then expect that in times of war the psychopathic power clique effect would be even stronger than Milgram's experiment suggests. Almost all people are likely to join a psychopathic power clique even if it means ignoring their own moral values.\n\nThe shifting of power cliques from small to large can be seen in the world of football. The most bitter rivalry between teams is often found in matches between two teams from the same town, for example Manchester City versus Manchester United. Some of their fans hate each other with a vengeance, hatred which has often sparked violence. But expand the conflict outward to an international game against, say France, and those local teams' fans will unite to support the larger clique: England. You can bet that when the Manchester City and United fans watch the match against France they will be side by side in cheering on England against the common enemy. As an old Arabic saying puts it, _the enemy of my enemy is my friend._ Now when I see sports fans waving an England flag, I don't see an emblem of national pride, I see an emblem of genetic psychopathy.\n\nIt should be no surprise from all this that we end up with the phenomenon of racism. The desire to protect one's own genes and form a large power clique runs deep in some people's veins. They become obsessed and radicalised and form groups such as the neo-Nazis. The feeling of being welcomed into the group, the power clique, came across from the comments of one young white man who was opposed to immigration. He was looking to join the British National Party and described his first meeting with them: \"I felt like I belonged to something. It was quite comforting really.\" Apparently the man came from a broken home and I suspect his quest for membership of a group was an attempt to get that warm, secure, loved feeling which he had probably never received from his family. There is a fair chance that psychopaths in his family made him feel unloved and ultimately drove him towards the BNP. It is a strong example of psychopathy creating another global problem, in this case racism.\n\nIf white indigenous people can be racist psychopaths does it mean that immigrants are pure? No, unfortunately not. There will be some immigrants to wealthy countries who are looking for a wealthier lifestyle. That, perhaps, is fair enough, but those who wish to arrive and not contribute, and live instead on state benefits, would indeed be psychopaths – there would be a fitness benefit to them, and a fitness cost to the people contributing to their support through taxes. Psychopathy has no colour preference: it can exist in anyone.\n\n## Mythic Reality\n\nResearch psychologist Lawrence LeShan summarised the dynamics which lead to the onset of war: \"...specific events, or the drive for power of a leader, or a psychopath in a position of authority may serve as the specific stimuli that set a war in motion.\"20 It is unsettling to think that entire wars and the horrific deaths and trauma of millions of people may be the result of a handful of clinical psychopaths who manipulated their way to the top.\n\nLeShan reveals more sinister motives which drive wars along. He argues that rather than being fearful of war, people are often jubilant at the prospect. People's perception of war drifts from sensory (where people engage with the horrific reality of true war through their senses), to mythic (where people imagine a glorified wonderful war built on a foundation of delusions). In the mythic war which people create in their minds, they cease to think of their enemies as people, but rather as the root of all evil. They don't contemplate individual humans which they might be killing, but dehumanise them into 'huns', or 'gooks', or 'nips'. Peter Watson describes a process where \"...the stupidity of local customs is ridiculed... [and] ...local personalities are presented as evil demigods.\"21 These are psychopathic tactics designed to encourage hatred and violence. Dehumanising the enemy makes it easier to kill them without fear of guilt and makes the whole process of war a little less painful. Le Shan observes that in this mythic war against evil, people are virtually filled with joy at the prospect of engaging in battle.22 On a deep level, war can offer feelings of fulfilment. Being a part of the ultimate solution against a tyrant adds purpose to the lives of those in the battle and this is, for many, a very pleasant feeling, to actually be of value. When the troops return to a hero's welcome, festooned with medals, the reward is high. They are now admired by the group, and that admiration is very powerful indeed. The reward of being called a hero appeals to the genetic psychopath in the soldier; when they receive the adoration, they are being sent up that ladder of social esteem. They look and feel powerful and sexy and so are better able to pass on their genes. When they have learned that they can climb the ladder by going to war, they may cease to wage war in order to fight evil but may go to battle for their own selfish desire to gain social esteem. _May,_ that is. This becomes an increasingly complicated area the deeper we look. Some soldiers may be heroes, but others are probably psychopaths.\n\nIn the mythic war of good against evil, we of course think we are on the side of good. But it is a common observation from the world of psychology that people with psychopathy will routinely consider themselves to be good people. Deducing whether our side _actually_ _is good_ is far more difficult – we may be deluding ourselves. Our mythological background has from our early childhood filled us with stories of the battle of good against evil. Peter Pan beats the evil Captain Hook; in _The Wizard of Oz_ good Dorothy kills off the wicked witches; in _Star Wars,_ the good Jedi are triumphant against the evil empire. Good, we are told, always triumphs over evil, and since we believe we are the good ones, we naturally believe that we will always win the war. But of course, our enemy is probably also thinking they are the good ones and that they are sure to win the war. So it is that we and our enemies enter into wars with faulty mental maps. Because of the mythic nature of our perception, we enter into wars far too easily, thinking we are bound to win.\n\n##  Fighting Is Enjoyable\n\nIn war, soldiers report that they often feel alive like they never have done before. To some extent, battle can be a pleasant experience. Therapists have found that they sometimes have to treat war veterans not just for post traumatic stress disorder, but also for feelings of guilt. A soldier who returns from a battle where some of his comrades were killed may acquire the guilt of the survivor, which is bad enough, but soldiers sometimes feel more extreme guilt when faced with the fact that they actually enjoyed taking part in something which caused the deaths of many people. Soldiers often get a great 'buzz' from the experience of war.\n\nThe same buzz is reported by football hooligans. Some followers of football teams organise themselves into 'firms' which coordinate violent clashes revolving around football matches. There is no reason for these people to wage war; they are not oppressed by a greater force and they don't aim to acquire any resources. These people seek out violence because it is enjoyable. It also serves to strengthen the bonds between members of a firm, to the point where people within a firm have sometimes been described as being 'family'. They look out for each other, offering protection by being within a large power clique.\n\nThe buzz which those involved in violence report has to do with mental growth. When soldiers are in battle they are on a very steep learning curve. Senses are heightened by adrenaline, and the soldier connects powerfully with reality; they have to connect - it's connect or be killed. So soldiers learn how to navigate a part of the universe. Evolution has programmed us to feel good when we learn - a reward. This is necessary as, when we learn more, we can better survive the environment and pass on our genes. So from an evolutionary perspective, there is good reason for battle to be a pleasurable experience. Battle makes us grow mentally: evolution makes mental growth pleasurable. Curiously, battle is, to some extent, doing the same thing as psychotherapy: both may help a person's mental map to expand and become more accurate. But both can be painful too. At other times, war can damage a person's psyche. Those that are induced to ignore their conscience and kill someone in battle are very likely to suffer post traumatic stress disorder immediately afterwards and for the remainder of their life, as well as the depression, possible divorce, addictions, ulcers and heart disease which often go along with traumatic memories.23\n\nWars then involve a range of mental disorders. In our example, the explorers experienced transference, psychopathy, lying, anger, delusion, rage, pyramid persecution, anxiety, depression and neurosis. In a real war there are probably even more complicated psychological phenomena. Since the disorder involves a number of associated symptoms, war is a _syndrome_.\n\nIf a family exhibited the symptoms we see in the war process a psychiatrist might refer the family to therapy; the family would be deemed to be ill. It is clear then that war is indeed a form of mental illness.\n\n##  Psychopathic Peace Makers\n\nWhile we're looking at psychopathy and the cause of war, could we take a sideways glance at its opposite and learn something? Would peace activists show us a ray of hope that there are decent, moral people in the world?\n\nSadly we cannot assume that if someone is a peace activist they are devoid of psychopathy. In my work as an activist I have come across a number of fellow peace campaigners who have had psychopathic symptoms. One woman, who attended a huge demonstration in London against the Iraq war, was referring to an ex-partner when she told me, \"I am so focussed on hating him.\" Strangely, although she went far out of her way to stop a war in Iraq, she was waging war with someone close to her. She had quite a severe personality disorder –  psychopathy.\n\nAnother example came when a friend of mine, Sara, made a complaint about a peace festival in an English town. She sent the organisers an email pointing out that they were encouraging the deaths of thousands of animals when they allowed stallholders to sell jewellery made from sea shells, leather and snake-skin (the acquisition of which was far from peaceful for the animals). She also mentioned that some of the festival stalls promoted illegal drugs by selling paraphernalia that goes along with cannabis use – bubble pipes etc. Since it has been found that cannabis use can create illnesses such as psychosis, schizophrenia and cancer, she argued that this too was not promoting peace.\n\nAs Sara got nowhere by writing to the organisers, and didn't receive a response, she had an article printed in their local newspaper which pointed out the things she had mentioned. It was a large article and printed a week before the festival, and certainly got a reaction from the organisers. From the email Sara received from them afterwards, and their subsequent letter to the paper, they were livid. They accused Sara of lying and said they had never received her email and dismissed the accusations she had made in the paper. They even threatened to sue Sara for libel (which they couldn't of course as she was telling the truth). A week later the festival went ahead, and sure enough there were the stalls selling animal products and drug paraphernalia. The organisers must have been embarrassed.\n\nIn the article Sara had made the organisers look foolish and immoral. Which _in reality_ they were (at least to some extent). In their minds they saw themselves falling down the ladder of social esteem – becoming unsexy and less able to pass on their genes. So they slipped into the now predictable path of someone defending their status – they went on the attack against the truth teller. In fact they then told lies. Their defence of their status and the lies they told reminded me of what neo-Nazis sometimes do. The truth about the Nazi holocaust is too uncomfortable for them; it makes them look bad (which in this respect they are). So, many neo-Nazis have resorted to denying the holocaust – they lie. Bizarrely then the team of dedicated peace campaigners was showing exactly the same symptom as the neo-Nazis – lying to cover up their misdeeds. Both the peace festival organisers and the neo-Nazis exhibit symptoms of genetic psychopathy. So strong is this form of psychopathy, that even people who dedicate their lives to altruistic causes may from time to time be overpowered by it.\n\nIt looks like a bleak picture if even peace campaigners can be psychopaths, but it is fairly normal. What is strange is that psychopathy and altruism can coexist inside the same person. Good people are not all good, and evil people are not all evil. I suspect that even Adolph Hitler did some good deeds from time to time (though it is not fashionable to even think this!)\n\nThe peace campaigners of our world fit the description of the altruistic intellectuals who find themselves in a minority outside the main power cliques. And, true to our story, they receive their persecution for taking a stand. For example, the French lack of resistance to the World War 2 German invasion and their opposition to the invasion and subsequent occupation of Iraq in 2003 led various right wing politicians and commentators to refer to them as 'cheese-eating surrender monkeys'.24 Regarding the invasion of Iraq, the French found themselves outside the dominant power clique of America and its coalition partners. As it turned out, one of the reasons for invading Iraq (the notion that Iraq intended to use weapons of mass destruction) was found to be false and the invasion was, in fact, illegal. In a similar fashion to our explorer story, those opposed to the invasion were the altruistic, truth-speaking intellectuals who found themselves in the minority. Groupthink prevailed in the coalition power clique, and the clear, critical thinking of those opposed to the war was ridiculed and overruled. The illegal war and occupation went ahead culminating in the deaths of over 654,000 people.25\n\nGiven the propensity for psychopathic power cliques to grow and for dissenting voices to be silenced, we should then expect the altruistic intellectuals often to find themselves in minority positions. This is indeed what we find, at least in the UK, where active peace campaigners are in quite a stark minority. (Being a minority does not make a group correct, however. Neo-Nazis form a minority group yet they have neither truth nor morality on their side. But we can still expect radical altruists to be in the minority _._ )\n\n## Finding A Cure\n\nWhat about a cure? If our explorer example is accurate to the war process between countries, can we scrutinise it and perhaps find a way to prevent war from breaking out?\n\nWe can analyse the situation if we strip down the problem into components –  the individuals in the group.\n\nFirstly the alpha female, the severe psychopath. We know already that clinical psychopathy is the most difficult disorder to heal, and perhaps impossible. Since our alpha is a severe case, there is little hope that we could reason with her to act with a conscience. So we are going to put aside this approach and let her carry on with her unhealthy ways, even though she is the prime protagonist on the road to war.\n\nThe compassionate intellectual offers little by way of a problem. Perhaps she could be bolder and more charismatic and so win over the sheep and Mr Ordinary. Perhaps the intellectual could resort to putting about nasty lies about the nature of the alpha, as the alpha lied about her. But, to my mind, this would add to the problem rather than solve it.\n\nThe sheep is, as we mentioned, another type of psychopath, and knowing what we know, it is likely that he will not be changed. He will always side with the greater power regardless of the morals of that power. As a psychotherapist advised me in a similar situation, \"Don't try to change them,\" and we can't change the moral code of the world's sheep. But if we give them a moral group to follow, we _can_ change their behaviour.\n\nMr Ordinary offers us some scope however. The ordinary man wavers on the brink of the moral dilemma. Should he side with the psychopathic alpha or the altruistic intellectual? In our story he sides with the alpha, but he makes his choice based on wrong information. If he knew the whole truth, he would have consulted his conscience and sided with the altruistic intellectual. And if he sided with the altruist, the alpha's power clique would never grow so large that she would choose to go to war. So the problem in this group of four people which went to war is partly a problem of knowledge. The solution is that the ordinary, wavering bystander must be educated with the truth of how the world works. He has an average intellect so he lacks any great ability to solve life's puzzles for himself: he needs to be taught. The intellectual does, however, possess the ability to solve the puzzle of psychopathy and war. The solution then is that the intellectual must teach the truth to the ordinary man. The psychopathic alphas of our world are continually spreading their poisonous falsehoods in their propaganda. The intellectuals (or actually anyone who sees the truth), must continually campaign with words to educate the ordinary populace, teaching them how the psychopaths operate, giving ordinary people mental maps which are more accurate to reality. Those who understand must promote the mental development of the ordinary populace. They must become the therapists of the population in order to counter the psychopaths. To stop war then, we need a global form of therapy. It is becoming a cliché in today's press reports from war zones, but it is true –  the real battle is to win over 'hearts and minds'. This is the only way to prevent wars: when they have started it is too late.\n\nA lot of this chapter may appear to be bad news, that good people can be turned bad when they want to join a power clique, but in fact it is good news as it also shows that people are more likely to behave altruistically if we can eliminate psychopathic leadership. With altruistic leaders, altruism might catch on. It is altruistic leaders we require, who can more vocally provide healing therapy to the masses.\n\nDoctor Zab knew the world needed therapy before he came to Earth;  his outreach team observed the disorder. When he came, he sought out not a psychopath, a sheep nor an altruistic intellectual, but he aimed his therapy at an ordinary _Homo sapien_ , Hugh Manitee. For it is in the hands of the ordinary _Homo sapien_ that the future of our planet is precariously balanced.\n\nIn Dr Zab's consulting room, Hugh was listening calmly.\n\n\"So you see Hugh, when a _Homo sapien_ is violent towards _Homo sapiens_ from another country, what they are trying to do is increase the resources in their control, and defeat their competition, all designed to protect their own genes. We are looking at genetic psychopathy again.\"\n\n\"Right,\" said Hugh, not completely convinced. \"But _I_ don't go to war.\"\n\n\"But you still defend your country don't you?\"\n\n\"I don't shoot anyone.\"\n\n\"Let's have a look at what your clone is getting up to.\"\n\nDr Zab showed Hugh the view-screen, where the clone was voting in a European election. He was placing his vote for a party which opposed the European Union, a party which wanted the UK to govern itself.\n\n\"Your clone, is voting to keep the UK out of the European Union. Your clone, programmed with your thoughts, is trying to hold on to the delusion of country, because he doesn't want to share his resources with people from other countries. Your country, Hugh, is quite affluent, and many of the people in it are still using their country to protect their own self interests. Your country is, to some extent, a product of the genetic psychopathy in the minds of its population.\"\n\n\"Oh no...\" Hugh's shoulders dropped at the mention of psychopathy, and he raised his voice once more to Dr Zab. \"Not again! You're calling me a psychopath again! I can't believe it. I said I would apologise to Susan, but you never give in. Why won't you leave me alone?!\"\n\n\"I'm afraid it's very common Hugh,\" said Zab, \"but this is a lot to take on board. Why don't you take a couple of weeks off, and we'll pick this up again at a later date.\"\n\nHugh breathed a sigh of relief, said a quiet \"See you later\" to Zab and returned to his quarters to let the truth sink in.\n\nThe links to share and discuss this book on Facebook and Twitter are at::\n\nwww.TheShrinkFromPlanetZob.com.\n\n# 8 The Growth of Conscience\n\nDr Zab welcomed Hugh back into his consulting room, after his time off.\n\n\"Hello Hugh, how are you feeling?\"\n\n\"Not so bad. Well, I suppose I feel a bit, well, unsteady I guess.\"\n\n\"Yes, that's understandable, it's a lot to take on board,\" said Zab. \"Explain what you mean by unsteady.\"\n\n\"Well, I can't say I am enjoying this experience. It's sort of painful. I looked at all that stuff about bullying Susan, and it made me feel really sad, angry at myself. I'm not sure I even like myself anymore. It's all so... depressing.\"\n\n\"Go on,\" said Zab.\n\n\"I mean, I guess what I'm trying to say is, I feel...\"\n\n\"Yes?\"\n\n\"Well, I guess it's making me feel.... what's the word. I feel.... _guilty?_ \" said Hugh, finally.\n\n\"Excellent!\" Zab was elated. \"Congratulations Hugh!\"\n\n\" _WHAT?!!!_ \" Hugh was taken aback. \"What do you mean? You've been chastising me for ages, you don't even seem to like me, how can you possibly be congratulating me?!\"\n\n\"You've made excellent progress, this really is great news,\" said Zab.\n\n\"It doesn't feel like good news. I feel awful.\" Hugh was unconvinced once more.\n\n\"No, this is definitely good news Hugh. You have actually decided to look at yourself.\"\n\n\"Well, you made me do that.\"\n\n\"I don't take all the credit - you are due some of that yourself. Yes, we did arrive to make you look at yourself, but our relationship is about working together and sharing responsibility for the growth of your species. And here, by feeling guilty, you have grown a great deal. This is a very important step.\" Zab smiled a kind smile.\n\n\"That feels really strange, bringing me down and now praising me.\"\n\n\"I know, but actually I have never criticised you to bring you down, I have always criticised you to pull you up. I think you can afford to give yourself a pat on the back for this. But I think we need to look at both the shame and the guilt, so let's talk.\"\n\n## Shame and Guilt\n\nHugh has reached a milestone in the therapy, which is why Dr Zab is so jubilant, even though while Zab celebrates, Hugh feels pretty miserable. Zab is not an earth psychiatrist of course, and his methods differ slightly from those of our terrestrial therapists. People who have read some of the Earth literature on guilt may be surprised at Zab's enthusiasm as guilt has certainly had quite a bad press in many of the self help books which abound on our world. And it is true that there are many _Homo sapiens_ who suffer badly from feelings of guilt, feelings which may plague their nights and wreck their lives. But Hugh's guilt is good, so we need to clarify where Dr Zab is coming from.\n\nIt is common for psychology books and even accredited therapists to make the mistake of confusing guilt with shame, and there are vital differences which if not understood by a client can have devastating consequences. In 1971, Helen Block Lewis, a clinical psychologist at Yale University presented a landmark book _Shame and Guilt in Neurosis,_ which differentiated shame and guilt, and which is still influential today.1 Lewis identified that shame is an evaluation of the _self,_ whereas guilt is an evaluation of the self _in relation to a transgression_ , a deed which is done or not done which has adverse consequences for another. She found that shame was accompanied by feelings of 'being small' and a sense of worthlessness and powerlessness. That certainly resonates with what we have identified previously about our ladder of social esteem. Shame is tied to feelings of being judged by another. In a later psychological study of sixty-five undergraduate students, research found that \"...when feeling shame, participants were more likely to feel observed by others, and they were also more concerned with others' opinions of the self versus their own self perception.\"2 – which describes exactly what social esteem is. Shame is accompanied by a desire to escape, hide or disappear. These hiding tactics are designed to hide the truth, the truth that the person in shame is somehow low-down in other people's estimation. And concealing the truth is of course one symptom of psychopathy. Research into shame reveals those primeval feelings which drive us to compete on the ladder, trying all the time to appear high up and sexy in the eyes of others. Shame then, it seems, is that initial feeling we get when our esteem is slipping, and so shame is probably linked to genetic psychopathy. Little wonder then that research has found shame to be a most painful emotion.\n\nShame is found to have destructive effects on the individual and the individual's relationships. It differs from low self esteem in that shame pertains to specific failures in the course of an individual's life. But frequent and repeated instances of shame are apt to chip away at a person's general level of self esteem. So it is felt as a destructive force for the person in shame.\n\nThe emotion of guilt was found by Lewis to be radically different. Guilt involves a tension, remorse or regret over a misdeed, accompanied by a mental focus not on the self, as in shame, but on the deed itself. Guilt drives the guilty person not into hiding, but onto the more challenging path of righting the wrong.\n\nThe ability of an individual to empathise with others is intimately linked to shame or guilt. The famed clinical psychologist and pioneer of the humanistic branch of psychotherapy, Carl Rogers identified the urgency of empathy for close, mutually rewarding relationships including the relationship between therapist and client.3 Tangney and Dearing reviewed a vast array of other research which has found that empathy helps to facilitate altruistic helping behaviour, that it fosters warm, close interpersonal relationships and that it helps to inhibit interpersonal aggression.4 They found that \"Empathy is the 'good' moral affective capacity or experience, leading us in moral directions and diverting us from paths of vice and perdition.\" Their research discovered that guilt drove people towards other-oriented empathic concern; in other words it was a force for good.5. Conversely, they found that shame may hinder empathy – when we focus on ourselves we cease to focus on others. This is a vital observation for relationships. In short, guilt fosters good empathic relationships whereas shame is more likely to damage or dissolve a relationship.\n\nShame is a powerful reaction which can generate two strategies in the individual who experiences it. Firstly, it can motivate the shamed person to hide away. Secondly, the person may attempt to shift the blame onto others, in an effort to preserve the level of status on the ladder of social esteem. If the shamed person can send the observer down the ladder then, relatively speaking, the shamed person will be higher up. Going on the attack reduces uncomfortable self awareness, staving off those feelings of worthlessness, paralysis and ineffectiveness. Since shame often results when there is an observing 'other' present, that other becomes a convenient target for the projection of blame. This shame-based anger presents a destructive force for relationships. The observing other may be confused at the apparently irrational aggression as there was no hurtful act by the other which could have instigated it.\n\nIn contrast, guilt has no such associations with outward blame or anger. In fact, studies have found that guilt prone individuals handle anger in a constructive manner, preferring calm communication and reconciliation rather than aggression and blame.\n\nIt seems that people who experience guilt are motivated to right wrongs. And by righting those wrongs they will be deemed by others to be decent members of society, thus maintaining their position higher on the scale of social esteem. We all know that decent people look at themselves, see faults when they are there, confess, apologise and atone for what they have done; it is part of the moral fabric of society which is instilled in most of us from an early age. These moral actions place us higher on the ladder of social esteem. It would appear that shame prone individuals are lacking this insight. They feel they are slipping down the ladder, but are yet to discover the remedial strategies which a guilty person will use to stay higher up.\n\nContrary to much of the Earth literature, guilt has been found to be a positive experience for many, which provides people with a means to make amends for transgressions; it is only when people are unable to make amends that guilt becomes a problem.6 For example, killing a child due to reckless driving would elicit a guilt response. But since there is no way to bring the child back to life, this presents a great problem for the guilty individual. This is the kind of guilt which many therapists are accustomed to dealing with in their clients.\n\nResearch has found that children are not born with a sense of shame or guilt, but rather it develops throughout childhood. The most likely source of the emotions is through patterns learned from parents and family.\n\nSince shame can be such a destructive force, it is important in parenting to avoid instilling a sense of shame into the child. At a child's transgression the parent should focus their ire at the deed (\"That was a naughty thing to do\") rather than at the child (\"You are a naughty child\"). In this way a child might be steered away from shame but encouraged to feel a sense of guilt. And if a parent shows the child how to confess, apologise and atone, it is likely to set a course of positive guilt for later in the child's life. But guilt is an unpleasant feeling nonetheless. So it is in fact the duty of the parent at times to make their child experience an unpleasant guilty feeling about certain misdeeds, rather than an unpleasant, shame feeling resulting in a low sense of self worth.\n\n## Guilty Confessions\n\nI'm going to briefly mention here my own experiences of shame and guilt by making some confessions. I found typing down these confessions extremely difficult. I, like any normal human, am so in fear of being judged by others, in this instance by the reader. I have had to force myself to mention a couple of things, in the hope that my words add some extra insights to the book. But the feelings of shame and guilt which I had to overcome were very strong. (If you don't believe me, think of some misdeed you have been guilty of, and try to confess it to someone!)\n\nOne time when I was talking with my Community Psychiatric Nurse about my problems I got onto the subject of my drinking. The psychopaths in my life had caused me great stress and anxiety. I found that getting drunk was one way I could make myself feel calmer and not so dreadfully sad – numbing the pain. The drinking escalated. A pattern formed in which I continually tried to get into that warm fuzzy state which was progressively harder to attain. Eventually I was drinking half a bottle of brandy a night, and I was essentially an alcoholic. I recall identifying how I felt when I confessed to my CPN and I found myself saying \"I feel ashamed\". I felt no guilt at this time though, since I knew the drinking was not presenting a problem in anybody else's life; the only person I was harming was myself. But I had a low sense of worth; I wanted to hide the truth even from the CPN, but certainly from my friends and family. I would hide the truth by keeping my empties hidden and recycling the bottles when no one was watching. Fortunately, there was an easy way to deal with the shame: I stopped drinking. At least I cut back a great deal. I still find myself having a drink to get over occasional bouts of stress or social anxiety, but by and large I have greatly improved on the situation. My self evaluation has risen, my sense of the observing others has diminished and the shame lifted.\n\nI have also felt guilt many times. These instances are harder for me to confess to; the guilt is mingled in with a sense of shame, and I feel a greater sense of shame for deeds which have harmed others. I cringe when I think of my wrong doings, and I can scarcely confess them to anyone.\n\nOne instance was in regards to a sexual partner I had had some years ago. I was concerned about her sexual promiscuity and worry set in that I may have acquired from her the HIV virus. I could have gone for an AIDS test, but for some stupid reason I decided that if I gave blood, they would do the test as part of the routine. I was clear as it turned out, but in time, I thought about what I had done. What should have been an altruistic act – giving blood – had been turned into a selfish secret plan to look at my own health. I hated myself thoroughly for what I did, and I couldn't bear those feelings of self hatred and shame and guilt. It seemed the only way I could redeem myself was to continue to give blood from thereon, which is what I now do. I still feel this only goes part of the way towards making amends, but it seems like the only course of action. But it illustrates the point that the guilty act was relatively easy to remedy; I found a form of atonement.\n\nAs I said, writing down these confessions was extremely difficult, so powerful is the shame response.\n\n## Therapy Teaching the Mechanics of Conscience\n\nIt has been said that the therapeutic relationship is one where the therapist is re-parenting the client, i.e. providing the client with loving guidance just as a good parent would provide for their child. Indeed, it is often the case that it is a lack of good parenting in the client's childhood which necessitates a form of parenting from the therapist in later life. So, just as a parent would do, the therapist has to teach the client about guilt and shame, empathy, conscience, responsibility, confession and atonement.\n\nThe therapist has to make clear to the client the difference between shame and guilt, as we have discussed. It is also essential for the client to learn the different forms of guilt. There are times when a client may feel guilt which is not deserved. Clients leaning towards neurosis may be preoccupied with taking on responsibility which does not belong to them. For example, the careless driver I mentioned would experience guilt for killing an innocent child. The reckless driving had a direct and adverse effect on other people, and this generated healthy _reactive_ or _existential_ guilt. But supposing the driver had been paying good attention, driving within the speed limit, and a child runs out without warning from behind a parked car and is knocked down and killed. Now the driver is innocent, but he may still have guilty feelings attached to the accident. In this case, the guilt is not justified and it is termed _neurotic guilt._ It is the job of the therapist to help a client to distinguish between the different kinds of guilt, to navigate them successfully. A healthy human should _not_ experience neurotic guilt, but _should_ experience reactive guilt (when it is appropriate to do so).\n\nA more productive form of guilt is _anticipatory guilt,_ which can pre-empt reactive guilt. If a person feels guilt for an action which is yet to happen, it may guide the person away from a destructive act before it comes to fruition.\n\n##  Manipulating With Guilt\n\nGuilt or shame can become damaging for a person when they are hijacked by another who has degrees of psychopathy. There is little a psychopath will not do to manipulate other people to their own advantage. If the psychopath can detect that a person is prone to bouts of neurotic guilt, the psychopath will play on this, for example by saying something like, \"If you loved me you would do....(whatever).\" This is one way in which a person may be encouraged by a psychopath to become more neurotic, taking on responsibilities which are not rightly theirs. We saw in chapter 5 how psychopaths can create mental illness in others, and this neurotic 'guilt-tripping' is one way which they can do it.\n\nIt is the psychopath within us all which runs away from guilt and shame. Guilt is the flipside of psychopathy. Psychopaths do not feel enough guilt: healthy people experience the right amount, and even healthier people feel anticipatory guilt which prevents them from transgressions in the first place.\n\n## Hugh's Shame and Guilt\n\nIn our story, Hugh has felt both shame and guilt, although he was fairly confused as to which he was feeling. Early on, when Hugh launched a tirade of insults at Dr Zab, and eventually launched a fist too, it was because Zab had touched on Hugh's sense of shame. Hugh took the text book options, first trying to hide away by cutting the therapy short, then resorting to angry attacks on his therapist –  projecting onto the observing other. None of these shame driven actions came to any good. In real life, here is where the therapy would probably end, with the client cutting it short and never becoming healed. But in Dr Zab's other-worldly approach to therapy Hugh Manitee will not be let off the hook so easily and the therapy goes on. Hugh is continually confronted with uncomfortable truths.\n\nHugh is an ordinary person, and the battle between altruism and selfishness, good and evil, psychopathy and moral good health goes on inside his psyche, each force competing for control of Hugh's self. With persistence from his therapist, Hugh's conscience is eventually found and stimulated, and he feels guilt. When Hugh made the shift towards guilt he grew past the denial and the anger. He found courage to look at himself directly, warts and all; it was without doubt a courageous step to take. And when he saw he had acted wrongly, he decided to replace shame with guilt. In that apparently innocent shift from shame to guilt, Hugh has made a massive step forward: he decided to grow. He has made the first step in killing off the psychopath inside himself.\n\nProfessor Dayv was putting on his face cream. Over the past few hundred years he had been working on his complexion and had successfully transformed his skin to the effect he desired – the texture of a pickled walnut. Dr Zab came up on the view-screen.\n\n\"Good afternoon professor,\" said Zab.\n\n\"Oh, hello Zab, how is the work going there?\"\n\n\"We have excellent news Professor, our host is feeling guilty.\"\n\n\"Oh that's fantastic Dr Zab, congratulations. Do you think he may be becoming receptive?\"\n\n\"It's possible, we are going to have him look at some more of the issues at our next session.\"\n\n\"Very good. And his self esteem?\" Said Dayv.\n\n\"We're monitoring it closely Professor. I've explained to him that he should not feel shame, so hopefully the self esteem will rise as he starts to feel guilt. On the face of it he appears aggressive at times, but we think there are different layers and there is hope we can use the guilt to help with the therapy.\"\n\n\"Excellent, well keep me posted.\"\n\n\"I will Professor. Oh, and by the way, your wrinkles are looking good today. I will be in touch.\"\n\nAnd with that, Zab returned to his work.\n\nThe links to share and discuss this book on Facebook and Twitter are at::\n\nwww.TheShrinkFromPlanetZob.com.\n\n# 9 Poor Homo Sapiens\n\n\"Ah Hugh, good to see you. I think we are ready to look at another of the issues in your GCD.\"\n\n\"Ok,\" said Hugh. He was feeling a little more positive today. Dr Zab's encouraging comments about the guilt had enabled him to face the reality of his species with less fear of embarrassment. He still sensed that Zab's therapy was going to challenge him, but he faced the challenges with a new courage, knowing now that Zab was actually on his side.\n\n\"I think we should look again at some images I showed you a while back.\" Zab operated his view-screen and showed Hugh, once more, the pictures of the African village. In a hut was the woman squatting and rocking whilst weeping, and beside her, a child, close to death. \"Tell me what you see in this footage Hugh.\"\n\n\"Well, it's from a third world country I think. It looks like this woman's child is dying, and she's beginning to grieve for her.\"\n\n\"That's right Hugh. How do you think her child is dying?\" said Zab.\n\n\"I guess, looking at the child, her stomach is swollen, so I suppose she has been malnourished.\"\n\n\"That's right. This girl is dying, because her family couldn't afford to feed her properly.\"\n\nHugh sensed this was going to be painful for him, but he felt that Zab's compassion was real, and that, with Dr Zab at his side, he was strong enough to look into the issue. Dr Zab was anticipating Hugh's feelings of fear; Zab's empathy was strong and he knew that the next images were going to be difficult for Hugh to take.\n\n\"This is one part of your world, Hugh. We need to look at the rest of the world as well, to get an idea of what is going on.\"\n\nWith that, Zab operated his console and the pictures zoomed out of the hut, above the village, upwards out of Africa, and then northwards to Europe, to Britain and back down once more. Zab selected places at random from around the country. He showed Hugh images of men driving flashy sports cars, and people taking off in jets setting off for their holidays. There were children's rooms filled with electronic gadgets. He focused on a shopping centre. One shop had hundreds of televisions; another, a supermarket, had row upon row of all kinds of foods. Out in the countryside there was an enormous mansion with vast grounds which housed just a middle aged couple. Hugh saw power boats, motorways, multiplex cinemas, lavish restaurants and five star hotels. He sat absorbing the images.\n\nEventually, Dr Zab scanned to Hugh's home town, to the busy high street where people were doing their shopping. There they saw Hugh's clone, walking along the pavement dropping in and out of the shops. He went into a card shop and bought a birthday card for his wife. He stopped off at a cafe and sat with a cup of coffee talking to a friend on his mobile. From there he went a few doors down into a phone shop where he bought a state of the art smart phone. Afterwards he walked off back to his car.\n\n\"Tell me what you see Hugh,\" said Zab.\n\nHugh was quiet for a while. He had an inkling that this was going to be awkward but he wasn't sure how just yet. He couldn't yet grasp why Zab had flitted from the scene with the African child to his town's high street.\n\n\"I... I... urr... I can see my town.\"\n\nSomewhere in the back of Hugh's mind a small bell was ringing. His unconscious mind was looking at how his consumerist culture was contrasting starkly with life in an African village, but he wasn't comfortable enough to acknowledge what was going on. It was easier to say nothing.\n\nZab allowed Hugh a while to think, before he pressed him further. \"How does it make you feel Hugh?\"\n\nDeep inside Hugh's mind the painful conflict was stirring a little more. Two uncomfortable yet inescapable truths were meeting in a head on collision: death from poverty, against an affluent lifestyle in England. It was a struggle. Even after admitting some of his imperfections previously, this one still caused a great disturbance.\n\nZab saw the struggle but carried on presenting the issue.\n\n\"Hugh, this high street is at the front line of your consumerist culture. What goes on in your shops will make the difference of whether that African girl lives or dies.\"\n\nHugh was still seemingly blank, so Zab went further.\n\n\"The shoppers in your high street may be killing that African child.\"\n\nHugh was visibly shocked. But he couldn't say much. He was partly confused again and partly unaware that his unconscious mind was once more sending him to the early stages of denial. Eventually after a long thoughtful pause he was moved to speak.\n\n\"All I did was buy a few things and a cup of coffee. That doesn't make me evil,\" he stated, trying to be firm with Zab but hesitating at the same time.\n\n\"Well, evil is a shade-of-grey kind of thing. But there are some important issues here. I think we need to look at this closer. Let's replay the scene in the high street and see if we can spot what is going on.\"\n\nZab smiled, and gestured for Hugh to look back at the screen where Zab had rewound the footage to the start of Hugh's shopping trip. Hugh watched quietly.\n\n##  An Initial Assessment: The Poor Part of the World\n\nThe Zobians can see a planet at its most irrational. On Earth, inequalities in wealth are such that while some people might own private jets, private yachts, have trips into space and several enormous homes around the world, other people are living in crumbling mud huts and many die from hunger.\n\nIn 2000, the World Bank asked researchers to gain the views of 60,000 men and women living in poverty, from seventy-three countries, to find out what poverty meant to them.1 The same issues recurred again and again. They were:\n\n\\- Food was in short supply for at least part of the year. Meals were often reduced down to one a day and often children as well as parents were left hungry.\n\n\\- Money cannot be saved. This means that if someone falls ill or if a crop fails, families may have to borrow from money lenders who charge high rates of interest which keeps those families in debt and poverty.\n\n\\- There is no money to send children to school, or if there is they may need to be removed if money becomes short after a crop failure.\n\n\\- Housing is unstable, being made from mud or thatch which is prone to destruction by bad weather.\n\n\\- There is no nearby safe drinking water.\n\nThe World Bank defines extreme poverty as not having sufficient money to provide for the basic life essentials, those being enough food, safe water, shelter, sanitation, clothing, education and health care. In 2008 the World Bank set the necessary income level to meet these needs at just US $1.25 per day.2 At this level, there are 1.4 billion people who are deemed to be living in extreme poverty.3\n\nPoverty is a matter of life and death. 9.7 million children die each year from preventable poverty related causes.4 In the twenty years up to 2009 18 million adults and children died each year, more than the combined deaths from all the civil and international wars and government repression of the entire twentieth century.5\n\nIn rich nations life expectancy averages around seventy-eight years. In countries officially classed as \"least developed\" it is less than fifty years.6 Children are strongly affected by poverty. In wealthy nations less than one in a hundred children die under five years old. In the poorest countries one child in five dies before that age.7\n\nThese poverty related deaths are often from easily preventable diseases, for example poor families may not be able to afford the fees to inoculate their children against measles, a disease which has been virtually eradicated in the wealthy west. Still many children die from it; the World Health Organisation estimated that 164,000 children died from preventable measles in 2008.8 Other diseases may be caused by poor sanitation and unclean drinking water. AIDS and malaria are both common and preventable diseases. It has been estimated that 40 million people are living with HIV/AIDS, with 3 million dying from the disease in 2004. AIDS can be combated by the use of relatively inexpensive condoms. Malaria strikes around 350–500 million people each year, with 1 million fatalities. Africa has around 90 percent of malarial deaths and African children account for over 80 percent of malaria victims worldwide.9 Malaria may often be prevented by the provision of inexpensive sleeping nets.\n\nHunger is still on the increase. In June 2009 the United Nations Food and Agriculture Organisation (FAO) reported that those living with hunger had reached a record high of 1 billion people.10 The director general of the FAO, Jacques Diouf, said, \"The silent hunger crisis - affecting one-sixth of all of humanity - poses a serious risk for world peace and security... We urgently need to forge a broad consensus on the total and rapid eradication of hunger in the world and to take the necessary actions.\" The figure of 1 billion people living in hunger has risen from 923 million malnourished people in the world in 2007.11 The FAO claims that the world already produces enough food to feed all the nearly 7 billion people on Earth and could feed double the present population.12\n\nOn average, 36 million people die each year as a direct or indirect result of poor nutrition.13 Of these deaths, one child under five dies every five seconds. This totals 6 million children per year, more than half of all child deaths.14\n\nFor the 1.9 billion children in the developing world, there are 640 million without adequate shelter, which amounts to one in three.15 An estimated 1.6 billion people, one quarter of the world's population have no electricity in their homes.16\n\nCalculated from enrolment data, there are about 72 million children of primary school age in the developing world who were not in school in 2005; 57 per cent of them were girls.17 This is regarded as an optimistic figure. At the turn of the twenty-first century there were nearly a billion people who were unable to read a book or sign their name.18 Less than 1 percent of what the world spends on weapons every year could have put every child in school by the year 2000, yet it didn't happen.19\n\nSome 1.1 billion people in developing countries have inadequate access to water, and 2.6 billion lack basic sanitation. This contributes to the 1.8 million children who die each year as a result of diarrhoea. Close to half of the people in developing countries are suffering from a health problem related to inadequate water supply or sanitation.20\n\nPoverty makes wars more likely and last longer. And the wars make the country poorer still, in a vicious cycle.\n\nThere are many relief organisations such as Oxfam and UNICEF which are making efforts to overcome this poverty related death and misery and, if they had more money, they could achieve more and save more lives. That is the bottom line. But they don't get enough money at present to eradicate poverty. Why? Where is all the money going?\n\n##  An Initial Assessment: The Wealthy Part of the World\n\nThe statistics on the disparity of wealth are stark: 2 percent of the world's population owns 50 percent of the wealth, the richest 10 percent owning 85 percent of the wealth. Or to put it another way, the poorest 50 percent of the world's population share only 1 percent of the wealth between them.21\n\nEconomic growth in the poorest countries declined during the 1980's and 1990's when the rest of the world was growing, and by 2000 those countries were poorer in absolute terms than in 1970. There has been a modest growth since.22\n\nIn terms of global Gross Domestic Product (GDP), the statistics are astonishing. The world's billionaires (497 of them, or approximately 0.000008 percent of the world's population) were valued at US $3.5 trillion, more than 7 percent of the global GDP. That compares starkly with the GDP of the low income countries (2.4 billion people) which came to only US $1.6 trillion of the global GDP (around 3.3 percent).23 A different statistic makes a similar point: the world's three richest people have more financial assets between them than the poorest 10 percent of the world's population – about 600 million people.24 The wealth disparity is not just large, it's enormous.\n\nThe wealthy countries cripple the least wealthy even more by holding them to debt repayments. In 2006 official aid to developing countries totalled US $106 billion. The debts due for the same year were more than twenty-five times that at US $2.7 trillion.25 And the poorer the country, the more likely it is that the debt repayments are being extracted from the poorest people who neither took out the loans in the first place nor benefitted from any of the money.26\n\nA break-down of what those in wealthy countries spent some of their money on in 1998 is revealing:27\n\nGlobal Priority and Spending in US $ (Billions)\n\nCosmetics in the USA: 8\n\nIce cream in Europe: 11\n\nPerfumes in Europe and the USA: 12\n\nPet foods in Europe and the USA: 17\n\nBusiness entertainment in Japan: 35\n\nCigarettes in Europe: 50\n\nAlcoholic drinks in Europe: 105\n\nNarcotic drugs in the world: 400\n\nMilitary spending in the world: 780\n\nAnd compare those figures to what was calculated to be _additional_ costs to achieve universal provision of basic social services in all developing countries:\n\nGlobal Priority and Spending in US $ (Billions)\n\nBasic education for all: 6\n\nWater and sanitation for all: 9\n\nReproductive health for all women: 12\n\nBasic health and nutrition: 13\n\nAmerica spends more on cosmetics than it would take to provide education for all the people still lacking education in all the developing countries.\n\n.\n\nThe inequality of wealth is not only bad news for the poor, it doesn't always benefit the rich. In 1997 the World Health Organisation (WHO) officially recognised obesity as a global epidemic.28 They estimated that In 2005, 400 million people were classed as obese Compare that with the 1 billion going hungry in 2009.\n\nSome researchers believe wanton consumerism is a form of mind-virus which they call _affluenza._ 29 People affected with affluenza are preoccupied with acquiring money or material wealth and place a high priority on gaining status and fame. Numerous studies have found a strong correlation between materialistic or financially motivated values and depression, anxiety or lifelessness.30 Materialistic young people have been found to more frequently use 'drugs of solace' including alcohol, cannabis and hard drugs.31 One study of more than seven hundred twelve to twenty-one year olds found that those who aspired to material goals such as expensive possessions, expensive looking clothes and being visually attractive were significantly more likely to have psychological problems. For example, they were 1 ½ times as likely to have narcissistic personalities or to have disturbed personal relationships with lovers or friends.32 American market research studies found similar correlation between materialistic personality traits and depression and anxiety.33\n\nThe correlation between materialism and misery is fairly clear: which way the causation runs is less so. Either way, materialistic aspirations may lead to psychological suffering, or may at best not help to cure it.\n\n##  Is Money Redistribution a Solution? What is the Price of a Life?\n\nSometimes the cost of saving a life is cheap. The WHO stated that many of the 3 million people who die from diarrhoea each year can be saved with a simple salt and sugar solution costing just a few pence.34 The United Nations Children's Fund (UNICEF) estimates that a vaccine costing less than US $1 USD could save the hundreds of thousands of children who die each year from measles.35 Malaria kills millions of children a year, lives which the charity Nothing But Nets say could be saved by bed nets costing around US $10 a piece. These figures are astonishing, revealing that a life can be so cheap, but unfortunately they do not show the exact price of saving a life since they are not allowing for the costs of education and distribution. As well as that, not all of the children given immunisation or bed nets would have died from malaria, so the figures need to be adjusted if we want a more exact idea of the price of a life. Economist William Easterly took more of these factors into account and estimated that the WHO programmes for saving lives from malaria, diarrhoea, respiratory infections and measles costs around roughly US $300 per life saved (2006 dollars).36 That's the same price as a 22\" television for a spare room. Saving lives at risk from AIDS by distributing condoms has been estimated to cost from around US $130 to US $460 per life, figures which many people would be happy to spend on a holiday.37 The actual price of a life is still cheap.\n\nThe cost of benefiting someone in some other way than saving their life is even cheaper. Restoring a person's sight with a simple cataract operation costs as little as US $50, the cost in the UK of a reasonably priced meal out for two with drinks.38\n\nAre we giving enough in aid already? The west spent US $2.3 trillion on aid in the five decades to 2007.39 The figure sounds generous, but spread between the billion people in the wealthy west and the fifty years referred to, the figure amounts to only around 0.3 percent of income, or about 30 cents for every US $100 earned.40\n\nAt present we don't voluntarily give much to the poor. The Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development calculated that in the US private philanthropy for foreign aid totals only 0.07 percent of the nation's gross national income.41\n\nIn 2000 the United Nations (UN) Millennium Development Summit set targets for reductions in poverty by the year 2015. The targets didn't aim to eradicate all poverty but were instead deemed to be realistic. They were:42\n\n\\- Reducing to one half the proportion of the world's people in extreme poverty\n\n\\- Reducing to one half the number of people suffering from hunger\n\n\\- Providing primary schooling for all children\n\n\\- Eliminating sex disparity in education\n\n\\- Reducing to one third the number of child deaths below the age of five\n\n\\- Reducing to one quarter the rate of maternal mortality\n\n\\- Halting and reversing the spread of HIV/AIDS, malaria and other diseases\n\n\\- Reducing to one half the number of people without access to safe drinking water\n\nA UN task force set out to estimate the cost of achieving the Millennium Development Goals. They reached a figure of US $70 to US $80 per capita annually in 2006 rising to US $120 to US $160 in 2015. That comes to a global total of US $121 billion for 2006 rising to US $189 billion for 2015 (the figures are in 2003 dollars).43\n\nPhilosopher Peter Singer calculated how much money could be raised if only the top 10 percent of American earners were asked to make donations. Each would give depending on the level of their income on a sliding scale from 5 percent for an income of US $105,001 - US $148,000 to approaching 33 percent for those earning in excess of US $10.7 million (2010 dollars). This would leave all donors with lifestyles considered to be comfortable by US standards.44 With this level of donations, Singer estimated that US $471 billion could be obtained for the poor, a figure well in excess of the figure needed to achieve the Millennium Development Goals. In other words a massive dent in world poverty could easily be made just by the donations of _the wealthiest top 10 percent of only one country_ , without significantly reducing the quality of life of those people donating. If we were to add to that donations from the rest of the wealthy nations and smaller donations from less well off people, it is clear that the Millennium Development Goals are, if anything, far too modest. The target of eliminating poverty completely is a realistic goal. Poverty is stoppable. So, why don't we stop it? We need to look into the minds of the wealthy part of the world's population to see what is going on.\n\n## The Ethics of Giving\n\nPhilosopher Peter Unger examined the ethics of wealth when he described this scenario:45\n\nBob has worked diligently for all his life, and is soon to be retiring from work. He wants his retirement to be comfortable so he has found a form of investment, something which will provide a good nest egg for his later years. He has bought a vintage car, a Bugatti, which is very rare and very valuable. Not only does he treasure the car, but he knows that the price of the car is continually rising, providing that financial security which he will need in years to come. As the car was so expensive to buy he hasn't been able to afford to insure it.\n\nOne day he is out for a drive in the country. He finds a beautiful location, so he decides to stop off and get out for a walk. He parks his car at the end of a railway siding and walks on up the tracks. After a while he sees a runaway train, with no one on board, heading towards him. He looks to where the train is heading and sees a small child playing on the main line, oblivious to the oncoming train. It is clear the train is heading for the child and the child may be killed. There is no time to run to the child and it is too far to call a warning, but then Bob sees a switch which can direct the train down the siding, which will certainly save the child's life. If he redirects the train, it is certain the train will not stop at the dilapidated buffers but will continue on and destroy his treasured, uninsured Bugatti. Bob thinks about his beautiful car and the financial security it provides and he decides not to throw the switch.\n\nThe question is: did Bob do the right thing? Most people when presented with this scenario will say that Bob was wrong to save his car and risk killing a child. People make a fairly clear cut decision on this. But when a person from a wealthy nation is faced with either saving money for retirement or giving away that money to save the lives of children who are dying from poverty, many people will continue to save for their retirement. What has gone wrong here? What is the difference between the scenario with the Bugatti and the real life need to save people from dying of poverty?\n\n##  Psychological Reasons Why People Don't Give More\n\nThere are a number of psychological reasons why people don't voluntarily donate much of their income to helping the poor. These are a few:\n\n### A Victim Who Is Identifiable\n\nA psychological experiment was carried out to discover what drives people to make generous donations to a charity.46 Participants in the experiment were paid for taking part and were given the chance to donate a portion of their payment to the Save the Children charity, which helps children who are suffering the effects of poverty in both developed and developing countries. Different groups of participants were given different information prior to the suggestion that they donate. General information about poverty was given to one group including the statement: \"Food shortages in Malawi are affecting more than 3 million children.\" Another group was shown a photograph of Rokia, a Malawian girl of seven years of age. Her desperate poverty was described, and the group were told \"her life will be changed for the better by your gift.\" The researchers found that people gave significantly more generously when they had the more personal information rather than general facts. The same results have been found in other experiments.47\n\nSo we will give more generously to causes where there is an identifiable victim, even if this flies in the face of rationality. We may give vast amounts to save the life of one person in need, money which could have saved more lives if it was invested into preventative medicine, for instance. It is not a rational decision; the identifiable victim effect suggests that there are faulty mental maps in the people making the donations (ordinary people).\n\n### Protecting Our Power Clique\n\nOn Boxing Day 2004 a tsunami hit Southeast Asia killing 220,000 people and making millions more homeless. Americans responded to the disaster by giving US $1.54 billion to relief work. It was more money than America had ever given to a disaster relief fund outside the US. The following year hurricane Katrina hit the US seaboard killing around 1,600 people and leaving far fewer homeless than the tsunami. In response Americans donated US $6.5 billion to the relief fund, more than four times what they gave for the tsunami. In October 2005 an earthquake in Pakistan killed 73,000 people and only gained $150 million in donations from the US population. It is clear the Americans were looking after their own people far and above looking after foreigners in greater need. It is an example of the genetic drives we saw in the chapter on war and power cliques. Looking after our own kin, or tribe, means we are ensuring the survival of our own genes. Giving to our own groups, our power cliques up to the size of countries, is therefore slightly selfish. So donating more to our own homeland's causes is fuelled in part by psychopathy; when we direct funds to our own group in preference to a foreign group, there is a fitness cost to 'them' and a fitness benefit to 'us'. If we were mentally healthy we would at the very least distribute our wealth evenly, and to be really altruistic we should expect to give more to them than us.\n\nThe selfish nature of giving not only applies to personal donations but can also be found in government aid. Aid is often tied with conditions that the receiving country will need to buy goods from the donating country. This reduces the effectiveness of aid as the goods bought through such conditions may not be competitively priced in a global market. For example, the US Congress ordered that US aid agencies which donate condoms to Africa to halt the spread of AIDS were obliged to buy their supplies of condoms from US manufacturers. These condoms were twice the price of similar products manufactured in Asia. Since fewer condoms could be bought at the higher price, the self-serving rule by Congress meant that as a result lives would be lost in Africa.48 In this case there is a clear fitness cost for Africans in the increased death toll and a fitness benefit for the US in terms of life enhancing income. The government aid therefore fits inside our definition of psychopathy. Again, solve psychopathy and we help to solve the global issue of poverty.\n\nUS and European agricultural subsidies are also undermining the efforts of poor countries to compete in a global market. For example, in West Africa millions of peasant farmers rely on cotton crops for their livelihoods and many of the famers try to feed their families on less than US $1.25 a day.49 The cotton they grow is cheaper as labour costs are low, and they are grown in a more environmentally sensitive manner, not relying on high mechanization or pesticides as the US farmers do. The US government pays US $3 billion annually in subsidies to its cotton growers (2010 dollars), allowing them to undercut the African producers on the world market. Daniel Sumner, director of the University of California Agricultural Issues Centre estimated that if the US ceased to subsidise its cotton growers, the increase in income for each African farmer would be enough to pay for all the health care costs of four children.50 For such agricultural subsidies, the fitness cost for Africans and benefit for the US and Europeans are clear: the subsidies are motivated partly by psychopathy. Eliminating such psychopathic subsidies for cotton, corn and other farm produce should be a priority both on humanitarian and also economic grounds.\n\n### Feelings of Futility\n\nIn a psychological study of willingness to donate money to refugees in dire need in a camp in Rwanda, participants were told that 1,500 people could be saved by donations.51 Different groups of participants were given different figures for the total number of refugees who were at risk, but the number of people who could be saved was kept at 1,500. Results showed that people would more willingly give aid if the total number of refugees at risk was 3,000 rather than 10,000. As a rule, people were more willing to offer aid if a higher proportion of victims could be saved, regardless of the actual number of people who are saved. It is a less than rational phenomenon, but this is how people's minds work; it is another flaw in the mental maps of the people being studied – a mental health issue for the people in a position to give. The reality is that for those who are saved, the donations are anything but futile, and as we know mental health is all about being in contact with reality. This phenomenon is what psychologists call futility thinking, and it has repercussions for global poverty: people can be put off from giving if they feel that helping only a few people is just 'a drop in the ocean'.\n\n###  Contagious Psychopathy in Groups\n\nAs we saw in chapter 7 people will emulate others around them who are not acting on their conscience. Remember the experiment that showed people in the waiting room would not help the injured woman behind the curtain, and the participants in Milgram's experiment who would willingly give someone an apparently fatal electric shock if told to do so. Similarly when we see others around us who are not donating to save the poor, we feel the spotlight of responsibility is taken off us; it is then that we opt to join the large selfish clique of people who are not giving. When we are an anonymous member of that large group we can get away with shirking our responsibility, we feel the judging other is not looking at us, and the psychopath within us is free to act.\n\nAnother example of how psychopathy is sometimes contagious is found in the 'ultimatum game' In this there are two players – a proposer and a responder. The two are given some money, say $10 to share out. The proposer decides who will be apportioned how much of the money and the responder is asked if they will accept the terms. If the responder accepts then the money is shared accordingly, but if the responder turns down the terms then nobody gets paid at all. Players only get one chance at the game and each person's identities are kept anonymous so there is no chance that anyone will get pay back afterwards. In most cultures the proposer offers a 50:50 split of the money which is normally accepted by the responder, and each player gets their $5. However, on occasion, the proposer offers the responder say only 20 percent of the money. The responder then has a choice: accept and get $2 or reject the terms and get nothing at all. Experiment has found that most responders act against self interest, and they turn down the offer, resulting in nobody getting any money. This experiment has been used as evidence that people believe in fair play.52 Another explanation is that it illustrates the power of innate psychopathy. If the proposer only offers the responder 20 percent of the money, then the proposer is acting in a psychopathic manner: there is a clear fitness benefit for them and a fitness cost to the responder. Unconsciously the responder is competing with the proposer. If the proposer is allowed to acquire 80 percent of the money, it means they are going to be more successful than the responder in relative terms. In the battle for genetic survival, the responder cannot allow someone to out-compete them; if the proposer is allowed to flourish it means the responder is threatened with extinction. To protect their genes then, the best option is not to accept and gain a paltry $2 but instead to bring the proposer down to zero by refusing the terms.\n\nIn a similar fashion we are less likely to give money to the poor if we see others who give nothing. If we give money and others don't, then the selfish others would likely out-compete us for survival as they will keep more money and hence more life supporting resources. The upshot of this unconscious battle is that if other people are psychopaths and are not giving to the poor, we choose to copy them and become psychopaths as well - contagious psychopathy.\n\nHaving said that, altruistic behaviour can also be contagious, as we saw in Milgram's experiment when participants copied the other teachers who refused to give the electric shocks.\n\nAnother experiment was carried out by psychologists Jen Shang and Rachel Croson, in which an American radio station was running a funding drive.53 People would call in to the show to make their donations. Some callers were allowed to donate freely with no information on what other people were donating, another group was told that a previous caller had given a particular sum of money, a sum close to the upper end of what most callers were donating (at the ninetieth percentile). The study found that the group which was offered the additional information donated significantly more than the group not told about the previous donations The experiment illustrates that altruistic giving, as well as psychopathic behaviour, can be stimulated. In order to increase the amounts given to the poor then, people need to be told about large donations which others are giving. The solution for the poor is to influence the mental maps of the wealthy – a form of therapy for the ordinary people who are able give.\n\n## Helping the Poor Means Curing Psychopathy\n\nThe notion that the psychopath exists in most or all of us and is the part of us which looks after ourselves before others, is borne out by experiment. In one study carried out by psychologists Daniel Batson and Elizabeth Thompson, participants were asked to assign themselves particular tasks.54 One participant was asked to nominate who got what task, while the other participant was not present. One task was described as relatively interesting and carried a certain benefit, whereas the other task was boring and carried no benefit. The psychologists told the participants, \"Most participants feel that giving both people an equal chance – by, for example, flipping a coin – is the fairest way to assign themselves and the other participant the tasks.\" The participants were given a coin to toss and the results of the coin toss were only visible to the person tossing the coin. When interviewed after the experiment all of the participants agreed that the morally correct course of action was either to toss the coin to decide the task or else offer the most rewarding task to the other participant. Nonetheless, about half of the participants didn't use the coin and, of those, more than 80 percent awarded themselves the more interesting and rewarding task. Not only that, but when participants chose to toss the coin, 85 percent of the time it apparently landed in favour of the person who tossed it. They cheated of course; it should have been 50 percent. When the coin toss fell against them, they didn't like the result so they lied. Re-jigging these figures reveals that in this scenario more than 75 percent of people would act in self interest provided that the truth was not known to others. Since in the experiment there is a clear gratification or fitness benefit for the actor and suffering or a fitness cost to the recipient, the people who cheated were psychopaths. No surprises then that many of them lied about the coin toss –  lying being a major symptom of psychopathy. By this one experiment alone, at least 75 percent of ordinary everyday people are psychopaths.\n\nWhen we do give aid it is sometimes in a selfish manner. For example, philanthropy for the arts can be seen as self serving. In 2004, a small Madonna and Child painting by the Italian master Duccio was bought by New York's Metropolitan Museum for the price of US $45 million. The museum served its own clique well (the people of America, particularly New York) with a purchase which was an extra, not a necessity. That money could have been given to say, people in need of cataract operations. At a rate of US $50 per operation, 900,000 people could have had their sight restored - people who can't see anything at all, let alone one particular painting. Such self serving donations to the world of art are leaning towards psychopathic – the benefit for those in the clique is gratification from viewing the art, the fitness cost is for the people suffering in extreme poverty.\n\nOften psychopathy resides in the leaders of poor countries, who siphon off aid for their own gratification or for weapons. As economist Professor Paul Collier put it: \"...leaders are sometimes psychopaths who have shot their way to power, sometimes crooks [also psychopaths] who have bought it...\"55\n\n##  Altruism Benefits the Psyche\n\nWhereas wanton consumerism is often found not to promote feelings of wellbeing, some studies have found that altruistic giving often _does_ generate such feelings. A survey of 30,000 Americans found that those who gave to charity were 43 percent more likely to say they were \"very happy\" about their lives than those who gave nothing.56 A similar figure was found for people who volunteered their time to work for charities over those who chose not to. Another study demonstrating how giving is good for staving off depression, found that people who gave to charity were 68 percent less likely to say they felt \"hopeless\", were 34 percent less likely to agree that they felt \"so sad that nothing could cheer them up\" and 24 percent less likely to say \"everything was an effort\".57\n\nSimilar rewards of wellbeing are found for the altruistic act of giving blood. The American National Opinion Research Centre's General Social Survey found that in 2002, 43 percent of the American adults who gave blood two to three times during the year reported that they were \"very happy\" against only 29 percent of people who did not give blood, who reported feeling the same. 58\n\nResearchers have found that donating to worthwhile causes can affect the biological processes in the brain. In one experiment, carried out by economists William Harbaugh and Daniel Burghart and psychologist Ulrich Mayr, nineteen female students were each given US $100.59 The students were given the opportunity to donate some of their money to a food bank which was benefitting the poor. While they made their donations their brains were studied using Magnetic Resonance Imaging, which reveals which parts of the brain are active. To avoid the possibility that the students would feel good if somebody else knew they were making the donations, each student was told that nobody else, not even the experimenters, would know if they were making a donation to the charity. When the students donated, it was found that the brain's 'reward centres' were active. It is these reward centres which fire off when something good happens, such as eating sweet food or receiving money. It is hard scientific evidence for that warm 'inner glow' which altruistic people sometimes talk about.\n\n## Actions For The Ordinary _Homo Sapien_\n\nPsychopathy is the cause of world poverty, whether that be in the minds of the wealthy minority who selfishly refuse to share their wealth, or in the tyrannical leaders of some poor nations. It is there in the everyday choices we make about where our money goes. For an ultra-rich man buying a multimillion dollar yacht, the purchase is going to have significant ramifications for the poor people who, as a consequence, are going without. But there is still a cost to the poor when we make small unnecessary purchases, like for example the purchase of a bottle of water. It suggests there is again a continuum of altruism or psychopathy in the scale of how much we either give to the poor or spend on ourselves.\n\nIf poverty is to be cured, then we must cure psychopathy. Changing the nature of a clinical psychopath may be nearly impossible, but we have seen examples of how more typical psychopathic behaviour _can_ be influenced. For one thing we require good altruistic leadership which will engender altruistic behaviour in the group, or power clique, which it leads. Generally, altruists also need to be more visible, which will have a positive effect on altruism for other members of the group. Finally, the altruistic or psychopathic process needs to be explained to a wider audience, as most people are fairly naive about the nature of psychopathy. This may have a therapeutic benefit: by bringing an awareness of the psychopathic tendency to the conscious mind, it may encourage individuals to behave more altruistically. Again, a form of therapy is required for the population at large.\n\n\"Now Hugh, let's take another look at your clone's shopping trip. Tell me what you see.\"\n\nThe doctor played the footage. Hugh watched, and provided commentary.\n\n\"Well, he, or rather I, am walking down the street, going into a card shop for my wife's birthday card. That seems the right thing to do.\"\n\n\"Well, I guess it kind of is. But what came before the card shop?\" Zab encouraged Hugh to watch again.\n\n\"I don't know,\" said Hugh eventually.\n\n\"Well, look. There's a charity shop isn't there, a branch of Oxfam.\"\n\n\"So?\"\n\nZab really wanted Hugh to make the connection for himself, but found he had to hurry him along.\n\n\"And they sell...?\"\n\n\"Stuff. Second hand stuff, mostly junk that nobody wants, I guess.\"\n\n\"You guess? So you never go in to charity shops?\" Zab was disappointed.\n\n\"Urr... well... no.\"\n\n\"Hugh,\" said Zab, now feeling a little frustrated, \"they sell all kinds of useful things _, including cards!_ You had the chance to buy a charity card which would generate money for poor people around the world. You had the opportunity to make that difference but you didn't take it. And if you had taken that opportunity your life would have been just as good.\"\n\n\"Hmm,\" said Hugh.\n\n\"Well, look Hugh. It's an easy oversight, but you will know when you return to Earth that you can do that. Let's press on. Your clone goes for a coffee, remember? Spot anything there?\"\n\nHugh examined the footage closely, scrutinising the coffee shop. The decent Hugh inside him wanted to please Zab, so he tried hard to see what Zab was getting at, but eventually he drew another blank.\n\n\"Look Hugh, look across the road. There's another cafe, see?\" Hugh watched. Zab continued. \"Notice anything there?\" Hugh stared at the screen. Zab continued. \"In the window?\" Hugh focused in, and shook his head. Zab tried to remain composed. \"There Hugh. Look at the sign. It says...\"\n\n\"Fair Trade?\" Hugh cut in, trying his best to get it right. \"Urr, what's that all about then? It's some kind of church thing isn't it?\"\n\nHugh was testing Zab's patience, but Zab fought off the temptation to roll his eyes, trying all the while to be the professional therapist.\n\n\"Yes, Fair Trade. That's right. It isn't actually a religious thing, though some religious groups do support it. This cafe sells fair trade drinks. If you buy them, a higher portion of the money goes to the people at the bottom of the chain, the people growing the tea and coffee crops – the poorest people. If your clone had gone into this coffee shop instead, he would have helped the poor.\"\n\nZab felt he had to spell it out calmly. Hugh sat and contemplated.\n\n\"But that cafe is on the other side of the road,\" Hugh finally countered.\n\nFor one fleeting instant Zab's eyes began to roll, but he fought it off valiantly. \"Hugh, you're trying to rationalise your position. Are you saying that you are not prepared to cross a road in order to save a child's life?\" Zab tried a stark juxtaposition of the two truths to see if it would make an impact.\n\n\"Well, lots of other people use my usual cafe. And anyway, I don't see you buying Fair Trade coffee.\"\n\n\"Hugh, you're rationalising again and trying to project your condition onto me. I don't drink coffee because it brings me out in a rash. But if I did it would be Fair Trade.\" Zab waited for Hugh to say something, but he didn't. \"Hugh. This little scenario reveals a symptom of what is going on inside you.\" Zab knew he was again on the verge of pushing Hugh closer to looking at his illness, and again Zab knew it might generate an angry response. \"When you didn't try to buy Fair Trade, it was one of the symptoms of your condition. Not wanting to cross a road to save a child's life is psychopathic.\" Zab watched Hugh's face to see the truth hit home.\n\nHugh's eyes widened. His pulse accelerated, and the anger swelled once more inside him. Eventually he contained the anger and gave out little more than a quiet huff. \"Well, I'll do that then,\" he eventually conceded, somewhat under duress. \"Can I go now?\"\n\n\"Good. That's good,\" said Zab calmly. \"Well, no you can't go yet, we haven't finished. Carry on looking. What happens next?\"\n\nHugh watched. \"I go to buy a new phone,\" he said, matter-of-factly.\n\n\"Back up a bit Hugh. You missed something - I saw your eye flicker.\"\n\n\"What do you mean you saw my eye flicker?\" Hugh was slightly annoyed at this.\n\n\"Well, Hugh. I was observing your body language. Sometimes it is when we are confronted with a new uncomfortable truth that our eyelids flicker. At difficult times humans blink more and break off eye contact. It tells me there is something going on in the back of your mind.\"\n\nAt that comment Hugh's eyes flickered rapidly several times and he felt forced to look away.\n\nZab gestured for Hugh to watch again, which he did. And again at the same key moment, Hugh's eye flickered. From that flicker, Zab knew that Hugh had spotted an awkward truth and that he was trying to cover it up. So Zab came straight out with what was going on.\n\n\"Look Hugh, you walked straight past the people in the street, standing at that table. They are collecting names for a petition against Third World Debt. It says so quite clearly on their poster.\"\n\n\"Oh. Well...\" Hugh wanted to say he was in a hurry, but he knew Zab would say he was rationalising. He knew Zab wouldn't let him go, so eventually he took the easier option and relented. \"You're going to say me signing a piece of paper can save that girl's life aren't you?\"\n\n\"Yes I am,\" said Zab, finally pleased that Hugh had made a step without too much prompting.\n\nBut still inside Hugh there was that nagging feeling that he didn't want to bother stopping to write on some paper. That was the psychopath still lurking inside him, the powerful force that was dominating much of his behaviour.\n\n\"Ok,\" said Zab. \"Let's press on. You had a mobile phone, but you went to buy another. Why?\"\n\nHugh was beginning to feel tired. Zab had worn down his resistance, and so he came straight out with the truth.\n\n\"I wanted it,\" he said calmly, looking Zab in the eye.\n\n\"Good.\" Zab was pleased at Hugh facing the truth. \"Did you need it?\"\n\n\"No. I guess not.\"\n\n\"Yes, that £250 could have been given to the poor, and your life would have been pretty much the same as it is. For £250 you can save a life. So, in that one single shopping trip you had four opportunities to care for the poor. Imagine how many similar opportunities there are in the world every day of the year, for billions of people. You have the power to save lives.\" Zab could see from Hugh's weary expression that this was a lot for him to take in, and so he decided therapy could finish for the day. He fell silent and let Hugh think for himself.\n\nHugh thought. After a while Zab felt the need to reassure Hugh that he understood his feelings. He needed to demonstrate that he was still willing to empathise.\n\n\"Hugh,\" he said, \"I sense that you may be feeling a little... well, shame perhaps?\"\n\nZab peered over his spectacles towards Hugh searching for clues in Hugh's expression. The comment made Hugh feel completely transparent. It was unsettling to be in the presence of another creature who could know his most secret inner thoughts; it was a feeling Hugh had never had before and it felt like being naked in public. For a moment he felt like he wanted to run and hide, then he remembered what Zab had taught him about shame, and he recognised that that was exactly what it was. Yet again, Zab's piercing intuition had cut through to the truth hidden inside Hugh's own mind. It was an uncomfortable new feeling, to be so transparent, but in Hugh there was another feeling there alongside it. Somehow a subtle and deep sense of loneliness was being taken away. In connecting so closely with Zab, Hugh felt not so lonely. The sense of hiding in shame and the sense of finding a new close companion were pulling in opposite directions, with Hugh caught in the middle trying to work out which way to move. After a short while he stood up and went to stand at the window, looking down on his planet.\n\n\"Remember the guilt Hugh. Turn the shame to guilt.\"\n\nHugh stared down at his planet, looking so peaceful and silent. And he thought about the problems going on which were invisible from space, problems which had previously been invisible to him, even when he was on the Earth's surface.\n\n\"I need time,\" he said finally, looking Zab in the eye.\n\n\"I know you do Hugh, this can't happen overnight.\"\n\nZab slithered over to Hugh and reached a tentacle on to his shoulder, reassuring him. Hugh looked up to the ceiling, his mind racing, trying to make the information fit, feeling the pain of growth.\n\n\"It's the global catastrophic disorder,\" said Zab. \"We need to work on it.\" And he returned to his desk to make notes in the little black notebook. Hugh stood quietly for a while, before eventually breaking the silence.\n\n\"Okay.\"\n\nZab looked up. \"What is okay Hugh?\"\n\n\"I'll take it on board. I'll cut back a bit. I didn't need the phone, I just wanted it. And, well I guess I could give a bit more to charity. If I do that can I go home?\"\n\nZab found he was beginning to like Hugh, even with his illness. He admired this change Hugh was making, and he knew what an important step it was, but he also knew Hugh wasn't ready to return.\n\n\"You will be able to return, but not yet, we still have some things to look at. But you are making good progress. You should know that. Therapy is not an easy experience, in fact it is often the most difficult option, and you are being quite courageous in carrying on.\"\n\nHugh was taken aback. He still didn't really understand the apparent contradiction between Dr Zab's alternating criticism and kindness.\n\n\"Take your time,\" said Zab, \"and we'll pick this up again in a week.\" And Hugh left the room feeling uncertain. But somehow, something was different. Something was changing, but he didn't understand what.\n\nThe links to share and discuss this book on Facebook and Twitter are at::\n\nwww.TheShrinkFromPlanetZob.com.\n\n# 10 An Inconvenient Truth\n\n\"Good morning Hugh, please take a seat.\" Zab was his usual calm and happy self.\n\n\"Good morning Dr Zab. I want to talk more about the GCD today. I thought perhaps there is still more to look at,\" said Hugh.\n\nDr Zab raised two of his three eyebrows, and let out a small surprised \"Oh!\"\n\n\"Yes,\" Hugh went on, \"I was thinking about consumerism. I was planning, before you abducted me, to get a new car. I had my eyes on a – I feel guilty about this already – a new SUV. Do you know if my clone has bought it yet? I realise now that the money could have helped the poor. Do you know what happened about that?\"\n\n\"Urr... yes... that's a good thing to take a look at. Your clone did buy the car I believe. Let's have a look on the viewer...\"\n\nWith that Zab activated his console and zoomed down to where Hugh's clone was driving, on his own, along a motorway. Hugh watched and thought.\n\n\"Actually Hugh, there is another issue I want to raise with you about this car. We need to look at how this vehicle is going to affect the future of your planet. What we can do is...\"\n\n\"Let's do a forecast!\" Hugh interrupted.\n\n\"...a forecast... yes a forecast, that's what I thought.\" Zab was taken aback by Hugh's initiative on the issue. \"I'll just press...\"\n\n\"Press the pink button...\" Hugh pre-empted Zab again.\n\n\"Yes, the pink button. Okay, here we go...\"\n\nFor a while, nothing much seemed to happen. Hugh watched his country ticking along as usual, people working, driving, and living. Zab zoomed out and up, across the Atlantic, and down to the Gulf Of Mexico. In the view from orbit, Zab and Hugh could see a storm amassing in the ocean. Zab played the forecast forward in time, and the storm approached the USA. He zoomed down to the ground, where the hurricane had reached the coast. Just as Hugh had seen before, houses were being destroyed and boats washed up on to the land, trees were felled and cars blown over. It was devastation.\n\n\"This destruction Hugh, didn't happen without your clone's car. It comes down to what is called the butterfly effect.\"\n\n\"The butterfly effect?\"\n\n\"Yes... that's right. There comes a tipping point when this hurricane will or will not happen, and that tipping point was reached when your clone drove his car along that motorway. It's all a part of climate change, caused by the CO2 from your clone's vehicle.\"\n\n\"Okay, tell me more.\" Hugh was interested to learn.\n\n\"Climate change is only a part of it. We can look at what your clone did yesterday too.\" With that, Zab played footage of Hugh's clone in a furniture store, buying a mahogany book case. \"I did some research and scanned back to find out where this book case came from.\" Zab pressed one of his buttons and time on Earth was rolled back, the viewer panning up and out across the Atlantic and south into Brazil, to the Amazon Rainforest. He zoomed down into the jungle where there was a man wielding a large chainsaw at the foot of an enormous tree. The tree fell, and the birds and monkeys screeched and fled from the canopy. \"It was this tree that made your furniture.\"\n\nHugh sat focusing hard on the images, looking for the cause of it all.\n\n\"All this Hugh,\" Zab continued, \"is part of your species' illness...\"\n\n\"The global catastrophic disorder?\"\n\n\"That's right.\"\n\n##  An Initial Assessment of the Environment\n\nAs we did in our chapters on war and poverty, we're going to first make a brief assessment of the environmental problems of our world.\n\nThe world is heating up. Greenhouse gases, most importantly CO2 which is released from the burning of fossil fuels, are trapping heat in the atmosphere. The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change estimates that by the year 2100, the planet will heat up by 1.2–6.4oC.1 That may not sound like much but it will radically change our weather systems leading to more severe storms, floods and droughts. It will also cause sea levels to rise due to melting land ice which will threaten to swamp coastal areas. They are estimated to rise by two metres this century, putting dozens of major cities at risk.2\n\nResources are dwindling. History has shown that societies can collapse when they run out of sources of energy and materials. The 'peak oil' crisis looms ahead of us, the tipping point after which oil production will decrease and prices will rise. In 2008 the chief economist at the International Energy Agency predicted we would reach peak oil production in the year 2020.3 Natural gas is thought to last for only 50-170 years and coal for 200-400 years.4\n\nSoil too is being lost. Worldwide, human activity is depleting topsoil at the rate of 10-20 times faster than it is being replenished. About 10 percent of the energy used in agriculture is to offset soil erosion, further adding to climate change. Large areas where topsoil has been eroded away often end up as new deserts.5\n\nDemand for clean water is increasing. Although the amount of available fresh water remains roughly constant, since 1950 the world population has more than doubled and its water use has tripled.6 By 2030 two thirds of countries could have a demand for water outstripping supply.7 Scarce water resources lead to conflicts. The United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organisation (UNESCO) estimate that between the years 1950 and 2000 there were 2,000 conflicts over water basins shared by two countries.8\n\nWaste is on the rise. There are fewer places now for us to use as landfill sites, and the existing ones emit methane, contributing to climate change, often leaching pollutants into the groundwater. Single use plastic products add to the pollution problem, products which take centuries to decompose. In the Pacific, 500 miles west of California, millions of tons of this waste now float in the sea, in an area twice the size of Texas. The United Nations estimates that every square mile of the ocean contains 46,000 pieces of floating plastic which entangles and chokes more than a million sea birds and 100,000 marine mammals each year.9\n\nWith human demands on natural resources we are competing with other life which needs those resources to survive. Destruction of rainforests for timber or for agricultural land, pollution of natural ecosystems and unsustainable agricultural practices are all irreparably damaging natural ecosystems. Scientists believe we are in the middle of a man-made 'great extinction', with many species being lost forever; a UN study found that 10-30 percent of all described species are now under threat of extinction.10 Species are being lost at the rate of 1,000-10,000 times historical extinction rates, leaving no time for new species to evolve. As we lose natural ecosystems, we lose the resources which they provide for us – clean water and air, food, medicines, shelter and timber.\n\n## The Problems Grow as the Population Grows\n\nAll this environmental damage is being carried out by one species: _Homo sapiens._ And every one of the problems is likely to increase in proportion to the number of humans on the planet which are generating those problems. Since the world's population of _Homo sapiens_ is increasing, the environmental problems are going to grow too, possibly exponentially, unless we act.\n\nIt is worth taking a moment to consider what exponential growth means by looking at a hypothetical example. Let's say you have a bottle of milk delivered to your doorstep, you bring it in but forget to put it in the fridge. When it arrives it contains a single bacterium, which duly reproduces at the rate of one division per twenty minutes, so after twenty minutes there are two bacteria, then after forty minutes there are four, after sixty minutes there are eight and so on. If it takes a day, less twenty minutes, or 1420 minutes, to half fill the bottle with bacteria, how long does it take to fill the remaining half of the bottle? The answer is just twenty minutes. That is exponential growth. In other words the rate of growth increases dramatically over time. And this is how the population of _Homo sapiens_ has been increasing: the growth increase is in proportion to the size of the population.\n\nIn 1900 the world's population was about 1.66 billion people. In the fifty years to 1950 the population had grown by 0.84 billion, less than doubling, to around 2.5 billion people. In the following fifty years to 2000 it had increased by 3.62 billion, more than doubling to about 6.12 billion. By 2050 the prediction is that the world population will reach 9.15 billion, more than 5 ½ times the population in 1900.11\n\nThe pressure groups Population Matters estimates that a sustainable population for the world would be from 2.7 billion to 5.1 billion people, depending on the standard of living of those on the planet.12 They claim that the present population of 6.92 billion (as at May 2011) is already unsustainable.\n\nAs the world's population continues to grow, there comes with it an increased pressure on resources. It is physically impossible for all of the world's population to live the kind of affluent and wasteful lifestyle that we do in the wealthy west. Inevitably as the population grows, more people will be at risk from famine. There will also be an increased risk for some countries to be driven into conflicts over finite resources.13 In the developing world, in countries such as China and India, the demand for an affluent western lifestyle is growing. Car ownership and consumerism are rocketing in these countries putting more strain on the world's resources.\n\nGiven that the world population is growing so rapidly, there _is_ going to be a big problem in the not too distant future. Unless we change.\n\nClearly all this environmental destruction is not a satisfactory way of running a planet. Again, we are we are forced to concede that the human behaviour which causes this environmental damage is not healthy, and again, given that behaviour is controlled entirely by the mind; it is ultimately human minds which are unhealthy. Environmental destruction is another mental health issue. What is going on, on the psychological level?\n\n## Consumerism as an Addiction\n\nMany of the environmental problems in our world result from our consumption of resources, fossil fuels to power our vehicles and heat our homes, unbridled consumerism filling our homes with objects we often don't need. We saw in chapter 9 how such uncontrolled consumerism leads to poverty in one part of the world and dissatisfaction in those who are the consumers. Some psychologists view this as an addiction which needs to be got under control. It certainly fits the definition \"behaviour that continues in spite of the individual knowing that it is destructive to self, family, work and social relationships.\"14 And unbridled consumerism _is_ a compulsive behaviour.\n\nIt is important to note that the addiction is self-serving. We _want_ to consume, we _want_ to travel and have lots of nice possessions. There is then a conflict: our addiction makes us feel good in the short term (as any addiction does) but in the long term it is harming us and other life. To heal the environment then, we need to heal the addiction.\n\nHow do people react when confronted with the inconvenient truth that our addiction to gratification is harming the planet?\n\n## The Reaction to Inconvenient Environmental Truths\n\n###  The Freudian Perspective\n\nThe process of assimilating and acting on all the gloomy information about environmental threats is similar to the process which goes on when a patient in therapy is presented with uncomfortable truths. Sigmund Freud identified a range of defence mechanisms which people use to prevent painful anxieties rising from the unconscious mind into the conscious, and these defence mechanisms apply equally to anxiety about the environment.\n\nPeople _rationalise_ to try to find a more comfortable way to think about the world. For example an unnecessary purchase which consumes resources and adds to CO2 releases may be justified by believing the purchase was made because it was on sale.\n\nPeople _intellectualise_ , distancing themselves from a problem by talking about it in abstract terms. The term NIMBY (Not-In-My-Back-Yard) describes such people who like to believe that the problems do not affect them and are not their fault. For example, topsoil erosion affects farmers, not me; species extinction affects another species, not me.\n\nDistancing is also achieved by the defence mechanism _displacement._ For example, we might be out driving and see a person driving a huge gas-guzzling SUV, but instead of yelling at them to change, we may attack our partner for taking a wrong turn. Or we might be happy to recycle instead of reducing consumption. Reducing consumption is harder, but better for the environment, but recycling can provide us with the warm feeling that the environmental problem is a little bit more distant. Or we might be happy to buy a 'save the planet' tee-shirt, which looks good, but in reality is adding to the problem of consumerism.\n\nThe anxiety can be _suppressed_ , when a person will consciously put the inconvenient thought out of mind. For example, a relative of mine was disturbed by a television documentary about people starving in Africa. Instead of accepting the anxiety and acting on it, she chose to switch the television off. Similarly, people who do not wish to face the environmental crises might avoid watching Al Gore's film on climate change, _An Inconvenient Truth._ People suppressing their anxiety may choose not to finish reading this book!\n\n_Repression_ occurs when the inconvenient truths are pushed unconsciously to the back of the mind. We are unaware of when we are repressing information in this way. In time, the truth may continue to be presented, when the environmental problem remains unsolved. If the truth continues in this way, a person's repressed anxieties about the environment may eventually be brought to the conscious mind and the therapeutic healing process may continue.\n\nMany people when presented with painful facts about the destruction of our environment will resort to plain _denial._ People in denial are hostile to environmental claims, sometimes using sarcastic or belittling humour to make the truth-teller look foolish. Denial brings with it its own special flavour of tension.\n\nIn _reaction formation_ , there is also a flavour of tension. A person using reaction formation will over-enthusiastically attack a wrong-doer. It reminds us of Shakespeare's line from Hamlet, \"The Lady doth protest too much, methinks.\" An environmentalist who is too vociferous in attacking say, ex president George W. Bush's record on the environment, may be attempting to hide her own lack of environmental scruples. In reaction formation, the criticism of another is justified, but it hides the individual's wrong behaviour.\n\nMany people who find the truth about environmental problems too painful resort to _projection._ In projection, a person's own shortcomings are projected onto another person, who is not at fault. In the world of environmentalism, some sceptical journalists enjoy picking faults with environmentalists, who are taking a moral stance. This serves to hide the journalists' own lack of environmental conscience.\n\nFinally, Freud identified _sublimation,_ whereby a person may successfully bring unconscious anxieties to the conscious and may then turn that anxiety to an action which benefits society. For example, expressing the pain through an art form like poetry or painting would be sublimation. The anxiety of environmental destruction may drive a person to join an environmental campaign group, working to solve the problems, or simply to act in a more eco-friendly manner, recycling more, consuming less or taking public transport – these are all actions of sublimation.\n\nThe Freudian approach to healing our environment is to steadily reveal the uncomfortable, anxiety-provoking truths and work on easing up these defences. The client in therapy (the person faced with the facts about environmental destruction) will need to go through feelings such as anger, disgust, guilt, dismay, sadness and fear. The process of facing the anxieties is therefore painful, which is exactly why people employ the defence mechanisms – their attempt to avoid the pain. If too much environmental doom and gloom is presented to the client, the client may feel overwhelmed and powerless. Bringing the environmental information to the client's conscious mind is not a straightforward task.\n\nThe Freudian defences are part of the resistance to therapy, in this case resistance to the therapy of growing towards environmentally sensitive thoughts and behaviour. As we know, if it wasn't for resistance, therapy would be rapid and would require only that the therapist tells the truth to the client, the client would change and everyone would go home. The same applies to the environment: it is only resistance which is preventing us from making those urgent environmental changes. The obstacle to improvement is not humans' physical abilities or a lack of scientific truths: the obstacle to environmental improvements is in the human mind. We need to look closer at this resistance.\n\n### Futility Thinking - Again\n\nOne of the problems with all the doom and gloom which we hear about the looming environmental crises is that it can overwhelm people and make us feel hopeless against such onerous challenges. As we saw in the chapter about poverty, there is a risk that some people may be reduced to futility thinking, that any action is insignificant against the scale of the problems, and this may prevent some people from trying to solve the environmental problems. To counter such overwhelming feelings, psychologists have found it is necessary to present positive messages as to how we can work towards sustainability.\n\n###  Narcissism, Psychopathy and the Environment\n\nPsychological resistance to painful environmental truths is a powerful phenomenon which is threatening the survival of entire ecosystems. From a Freudian perspective it is seen as people being unwilling to face up to the pain of necessary change. But there is something darker in the human psyche which is harming our environment.\n\nConsider this experience I had with a highly educated man who I confronted with an environmental issue. In 1992 I was working as a research scientist at a British University. I had already heard plenty about the environmental problems in the world, and as a teenager had consequently become an environmental activist and earth scientist. I was working in a lab at the university where normally there were three of us, but on this day I was the only one. On two of the walls of the lab there were very large windows which let the sunlight stream in. The lab manager saw to it that the blinds were drawn and he put the strip lights on to light the lab before going off to work somewhere else. As I was now on my own, and being a committed environmentalist, I decided to open the blinds, let the sunlight in and switch off the lights, thus conserving electricity and reducing releases of CO2 to the atmosphere. The lab was adequately lit and I carried on with my work. Not long afterwards, the lab manager (who knew my views on saving energy and the planet) was walking past the door. He stopped, looked in, saw that the lights were off, came in and switched them on, then left again to wherever he was going. Why? It is clearly irrational behaviour, and harmful at that, so what made him act in this way? His destructive behaviour was powered by destructive thoughts. If we are to protect the environment we need to understand why such people choose to damage it.\n\nPsychologists have recognised that our relationship with the natural world is often narcissistic.15 You may recall early on in the book when I referred to the UK Mental Health Act which provides guidelines for sectioning a patient \"...in the interests of [the patient's] own health or safety or with a view to the protection of other people.\" Environmental destruction is going to affect the health and safety of every person on the planet so, by this Earth standard, the human race does indeed require sectioning. I made the point that the Earth law was narcissistic in its disregard for other life. The Zobians, as we know, are stricter about the rules for sectioning and permit a patient to be detained when there is a risk to _any other life_. With so many species being driven to extinction, the health risk to other life is severe and so sectioning is required for _Homo sapiens_.\n\nRegarding the environment, our narcissistic nature tells us that the natural world exists for the benefit of humanity as a resource to be plundered and used in whatever way we choose. Narcissists believe themselves to be more important than other species. They spend little or no time considering other species, just as the conventional view of narcissists holds that they care little about their fellow _Homo sapiens_. Narcissists consider themselves to be at the top of the food chain; other species are there to be eaten or destroyed to feed us in some other way. The true nature of narcissism is the use and abuse of any other life, that is of any species, human or otherwise, and life at any time – either present or future generations.\n\nIn the therapist's consulting room, narcissists are highly resistant to therapy. They battle to maintain their false self, an image of themselves which is inflated and unrealistic. They are often grandiose in their views, battling hard to stay high up on the ladder of social esteem. They view themselves as masterful, and these traits can be seen frequently in the narcissist's approach towards the environment.\n\n## Some Case Studies\n\nThe 'green backlash' which I witnessed from my lab manager happens when people are made to feel shame by the messages of environmental doom which arrive from our media. The reaction to shame is exactly the same backlash which a therapist will experience from a narcissistic patient if the therapist too aggressively attempts to confront their narcissistic beliefs. The population of the world is guilty of narcissism regarding the environment, and it is the environmentalists, in this instance, who are the therapists trying to bring _Homo sapiens_ closer to scientific and ethical truths. At times the environmentalists bring their therapy too fast, generating shame in the population which generates resistance to change. The shame which people feel when they are told they are harming the planet threatens to undermine the narcissistic false self. People perceive (and want to perceive) themselves as caring and responsible towards the environment – that is the false self, for most of us are not as caring and responsible as we should be. We want to maintain the impression that we are environmentally friendly, as such people are higher up the ladder of social esteem. Again, we want to be _perceived_ as eco-friendly, but behind the scenes we want to continue with our selfish, destructive, greedy behaviour.\n\nAs we have seen, narcissism is a part of the continuum of psychopathy. So what we are seeing in people's resistance to uncomfortable truths about the environment is a manifestation of psychopathy. Psychopaths are those people who choose to damage the environment for their own gratification or for genetic advantage. For example, Hugh's clone, in purchasing the large gas-guzzling vehicle is receiving gratification and a fitness benefit. He feels gratified because the car is a status symbol, and the clone believes it represents power and success which others may look up to with admiration; in buying the car he is attempting to send himself up the ladder of social esteem. The perceived admiration makes him feel good. He perceives that the large car will make him appear more powerful and hence more sexy and so more able to find a mate. If he finds more mates, there is a genetic fitness benefit in being able to create more offspring. That's the first half of the psychopathic equation: the second half is about fitness cost to others. One fitness cost will be for people who may experience illnesses such as asthma caused by the excessive pollution from the vehicle's exhaust. There will also be a fitness cost to people in the present and in the future who have to go without the resources which Hugh's clone is rapidly using up. There will be a fitness cost for people at the receiving end of climate change caused by the vehicles, who may have their homes wrecked by more frequent and powerful storms. There is a fitness cost for animals which will be killed by collisions with the vehicle. And in the example of Hugh's SUV, the vehicle purchase was avoidable (he could have owned a more fuel efficient vehicle), so by our definition the purchase of the car was clearly psychopathic.\n\nI now realise that the lab manager who put the lights back on was caught in an unconscious battle for genetic supremacy. My action of switching the lights off made him look foolish and selfish. It threatened his status as the lord and master of the lab and his narcissistic nature couldn't cope with falling down the ladder of social esteem. He had to maintain his false self and demonstrate to all around that he was the master, so he came in and switched the lights on. It was an act of genetic psychopathy.\n\nAnother example occurred when I was a teenager. My father had paid for a mahogany staircase to be built into our house. Mahogany logging is one of the major causes of deforestation, and it is often carried out illegally. I pointed out that it wasn't a very green thing to do, and in my naivety I thought I would be helping him towards being a more conscientious person. But he reeled against my statement and claimed that he was a very green man. He wasn't. He never in all the time I knew him did anything beneficial for the environment – no recycling, no cutting back on driving or switching lights off, no reading up, signing petitions, lobbying MP's, composting, or joining green groups; nothing at all. But he had to say he was green to maintain his narcissistic false self _._ His public image was more important to him than saving the planet on which he lived. The fitness benefit and cost analysis revealed that his environmentally destructive behaviour was a symptom of his genetic psychopathy.\n\nAnother person I knew bought a large number of disposable cameras for a party. I innocently pointed out that it wasn't very eco-friendly, generating a large amount of unnecessary waste. He countered by calling me a \"tree-hugger\". He was in denial of the painful anxiety about environmental damage and, true to the Freudian theory of resistance, he employed belittling humour to attack the truth teller. Again, he was in a battle for genetic supremacy. I made him look foolish and selfish, he went down the ladder of social esteem, his shame response was activated, threatening his false self. So he made the environmentalist look foolish to make himself seem comparatively higher up on the ladder.\n\nThe narcissist will often attack the truth when the truth reveals their dark, selfish and foolish nature. In one of my relatives' homes some years ago, there was a strip light on in the kitchen, with nobody in the room, so I switched it off. My relative promptly asked me why and I explained that it was wasteful and damaging to the environment. She took great umbrage, switched the light back on, and told me that switching lights off wasted more electricity than leaving them on! It was of course a lie and, as we know, lying is a common symptom of psychopathy. She didn't want to look selfish and foolish, so went on the attack against the truth. Again her status was more important to her than her own planet. Having a higher public image was her fitness benefit: the fitness cost was to all life in the future which is going to suffer increased storms driven by climate change. And the fitness trade off was avoidable, so again it was her genetic psychopathy which was damaging the planet.\n\nAs I mentioned previously, genetic psychopathy is a pandemic, so common that not even the most dedicated environmentalists are free from the disorder. One environmental activist I know, a truly dedicated man, was campaigning against radio telephone masts, which he believed were emitting harmful radiation. A young woman pointed out to him that to reduce the intensity of radio waves that we are subjected to we need to _increase_ the number of masts, not reduce them. Each mast would then need to emit lower levels of the radio waves to be 'heard' by the mobile phones, and the mobile phones would also function by emitting lower levels of radiation. It is a counter-intuitive truth, but the fact which the woman revealed made his campaign look foolish and so he quite aggressively shot the woman down in flames. If he wasn't following the truth then his behaviour wasn't rational: he was mentally ill. His resistance to the objective truth was powered by his innate desire to gain social esteem. The genetic psychopath inside him was holding back his environmental campaigning.\n\nAnother ardent environmental activist was discussing amongst friends the ways to resolve conflict between groups. It was suggested that the process could be managed in a similar fashion to family therapy. Without stopping to consider the idea for a single moment the activist went on the attack with various claims about the complexity of conflict resolution. Years later I found that family therapy methods had been used in an experiment to resolve a group conflict, with great success. Again, the environmentalist had attacked the idea because it exposed his lack of insight. He had unwittingly been made to look foolish, he felt he was slipping down the ladder and so he attacked in order to rise back up – the fitness benefit for him. The fitness cost was for the groups in conflict who went without the necessary therapy. Again, genetic psychopathy – narcissistic in nature – was holding the world back from a solution.\n\nThe masterful aspect of narcissistic psychopathy comes across in some of the proposed techno-fixes for environmental problems. Many people who feel their status threatened by the environmentalists place their faith in technology repairing the damage we are doing to the world. For example, one suggestion to combat global warming was to float white polystyrene on the oceans, which would reflect some of the sun's warming rays. A similar suggestion was to place mirrors in space which could reflect the sun's rays. Ex- US President George W. Bush has made the case for environmental techno-fixes in speeches, and consequently some people have suggested the former President has a narcissistic personality disorder.16 Bush famously refused to implement the Kyoto global treaty for controlling climate change, yet a Whitehouse document released near the end of Bush's term in office claimed that \"...throughout his administration, President Bush made protecting the environment for future generations a top priority...\"17 It reminds us of the manner in which the narcissist has to maintain his public image, his false self, above all else. If George W. Bush didn't have degrees of genetic psychopathy he would be extremely unusual.\n\nSometimes the most severe eco-psychopaths find their way into key positions in the media. I can think of two particularly destructive men who have had high profiles in the British media. Both take great joy in undermining the environmental cause. For reasons of libel, I cannot name names.\n\nOne is a knight of the British realm. This man ran a continued assault on environmentalists, particularly those campaigning against climate change, and rolled out some of the most tired clichés. I could scarcely believe it when, to an audience of millions, he dismissed environmental campaigners as \"tree huggers\" and portrayed environmental scientists as unscrupulous imbeciles who were scratching around for research grants and \"pulling the quilt up around their ears.\" True to the nature of the psychopath, he has a glib sense of humour which often served to make others look foolish (not just environmentalists) thus making himself look superior. And true to form, this severe psychopath comes across as a likeable jolly man, who often manages to draw people to him with his cheery ways, ways which concealed his hidden desire to harm others and the planet.\n\nThe other eco-psychopath I have in mind regularly demonstrates the psychopath's adeptness at the lie. He once claimed that a running event would release more CO2 to the atmosphere than a motor race. Almost true. What he omitted to mention was that the carbon dioxide which the runners release was previously absorbed by eating food which ultimately came from plants which had _removed_ _CO_ 2 _from_ _the atmosphere_. The net addition of CO2 to the atmosphere for a running race is therefore nil. The cars of course, burn fossil fuels to release their CO2, so in the time scale in which humans live (a much shorter time scale than the time it took for the oil deposits to be laid down) there is a significant addition of CO2 to the atmosphere.\n\nUnfortunately these famous psychopaths have got themselves into positions where they can influence others. Unsurprisingly, other people, who share their lack of environmental conscience, relish their poisonous words . The psychopaths in the wider population enjoy having a psychopathic leader to help them fight off the inconvenience of giving up gratuitous indulgences for the benefit of the environment. We saw in chapter 7 how psychopathic power cliques form, and this is what happens in the world of environmentalism. There are psychopathic leaders who are threatened by the truths revealed by the altruistic intellectuals – the environmentalists. The psychopathic alphas draw psychopathic sheep towards themselves to form a larger army in order to crush down the environmentalists' group, in a war of words. The psychopathic leader is happy, the psychopathic sheep are happy, the altruists are stressed out and all life suffers from a damaged environment.\n\nThere is an industry of environmental sceptics in the world today. Many ordinary people have been seduced into the campaign against the idea of anthropogenic climate change. Actually, they want to be seduced - they are the sheep; they don't want to give up their harmful consumerism, their air travel, their SUV's or their indulgent gadgets. What many ordinary climate sceptics don't know is that this scepticism _really is a_ _campaign._ Leaked documents from public relations companies and hired experts have shown that the fossil fuel producers are hiring people to wage a war on the movement to control anthropogenic climate change. They are methodically targeting groups of people such as older, less educated males and younger low income women, to see how they may be persuaded to believe that climate change is a myth.18 This is psychopathy at its most extreme. The people funding this campaign of lies stand to make a lot of money by continuing to sell harmful fossil fuels. This is their fitness benefit – gaining massive amounts of money to fund their gratification: the fitness cost is for all life of the future which is going to suffer the consequences of climate change. We have other options to reduce the effects of climate change, such as using renewable energy or at least conserving energy, so burning fossil fuels is at least partly avoidable (remember \"avoidable\" was part of our definition of psychopathy). We therefore have another case of psychopathy. It is arguable that this instance of psychopathy is severe. The benefit for those funding the climate sceptic industry (acquiring massive amounts of money) is way above what they need to survive. And the fitness cost (destruction on a global scale) is so large that this can only be described as severe.\n\nClimate change denial is the lie which tells us that we are looking at psychopathy. The climate change deniers who are further down the line pass on the falsehoods and are often unaware that they are being manipulated by the unscrupulous psychopaths at the top. We see ordinary people denying climate change, unaware they have been duped. People in pubs, people watching television and people publishing blogs on the Internet which viciously attack the environmental movement, all blissfully unaware that people who are funding the scepticism are quietly bleeding the world of money and resources like global, fossil-fuelled parasites.\n\nRemember that ordinary people can have their psychopathic nature influenced for the better or worse depending on what the group is doing, especially the group leaders. The group leaders described above, the famous psychopaths and the fossil fuel company directors, are going to generate psychopathy in everyday people unless the altruists act to counter their selfish lies.\n\n## Green Lies\n\nEnvironmentalists may be naive about the nature of psychopathy regarding the environment, but they have picked up on the major symptom of the psychopath – the lie. Environmentalists have a term for psychopathic lies about the environmental claims for particular business or political activities, they call it _greenwash_ , a variation on the more common term _whitewash_. The narcissistic psychopaths are keen to maintain their image as environmentally friendly, so companies or politicians will spin their public image in such a way as to make them sound like moral individuals. It is pure psychopathy, an active attempt to maintain the false self and remain high up on the ladder of social esteem.\n\nFor example, the petroleum company Shell looked into sponsoring a wildlife photography exhibition to portray themselves in a good light and caring towards natural habitats. Environmental activists blocked it.19 The California based oil giant Chevron was keen to release a promotional video extolling the virtues of the solar panels it installed to power facilities at one of its oil plants, heralding the way with the slogan \"Finding newer, cleaner ways to power the world\". Simultaneously Chevron runs over a thousand filling stations in the UK alone, is the biggest CO2 producer in California, and controversially exploits Canadian tar sands.20 Sometimes marketing information on products looks green, but is, in fact, irrelevant. For example companies may still put 'CFC free' on a product label, even though CFC's were banned from most products in 1987.\n\n##  Population Growth and Psychopathy\n\nI mentioned how important population growth is to the future of our planet's environments. There is a mental health issue here too. Much of this book has been about our innate desire to pass on our genes, something which controls so much of our thinking. Of course, it is the genes' ambition to reproduce which is causing the alarming rise in the world's population, but thousands of years ago that wasn't an issue. The numbers of humans were once in the millions not the billions and the Earth could easily support that number of people. Back then a person could have many children without harmful consequences. But now things are different. The pressure group Population Matters calculated that in order for the world's population to remain constant each family needs to have no more than on average 2.1 children.21 Hence Population Matters has adopted the slogan \"stop at two\" encouraging people to limit their number of children to a sustainable level. The mental health issue is revealed when we look into the matter of genetic fitness. Clearly having lots of children carries with it a fitness benefit: those all important genes are more likely to be passed on if we have more kids. Having children is also gratifying, as there is normally some sex involved. But now that the world is reaching the limit of the number of people it can support, there is going to be a fitness cost too. If we carry on with population growth at the current rates there is guaranteed to be an ecological crash at some time in the not too distant future. When that crash arrives there are certain to be many deaths, deaths for the numerous species which we consume to survive and also human deaths caused by shortages of water and food. Unless we change, this _will_ happen. And those deaths in the future represent a fitness cost for those dying. So if I was to have many children there would be a clear fitness benefit and gratification for me and a clear fitness cost to other people and species. Having children is also avoidable: contraception is often available and abstinence is always available. Again, by using a rigorous benchmark of absolute truth, we are forced to conclude that having many children is now an act of genetic psychopathy. It _wasn't_ psychopathic thousands of years ago when the population was smaller, but it has _become_ psychopathic now that there is an ecological crisis looming ahead.\n\nSince procreation is so closely linked to our genetic survival, we should not be surprised to see people fight passionately for their right to have children and, sure enough, hints of genetic psychopathy come across in the debate over world population control. Some of the people who are being asked to curb their procreation demonstrate the traits of the psychopath in their vociferous denial of this moral truth. The Internet is a good place to gauge opinion. One website accuses population control advocates of promoting genocide and eugenics. These are false accusations of course. Population control involves _preventing_ people from being born, rather than killing them after they have come into the world. So these are lies and, as we know, the lie is a major symptom of the psychopath. Another website calls population control ugly and misanthropic. The truth there is that allowing future generations to suffer famines and climate change because of our own desire for sexual gratification is far more ugly and misanthropic. Actively planning for the future to reduce suffering is in reality rather more altruistic and intelligent.\n\nThe vitriolic words of the psychopath in denial came across from a national paper journalist who called the population control advocates \"freaks\". He followed the psychopathic line to a tee when he told the control freaks, \"mind your own... business\" . The genetic psychopath utterly abhors being told what to do. Being instructed to cut back on offspring implies there is an authority out there giving advice. The implication is that the psychopath is lower on the ladder than the authority which, as we know, they hate, so they fight with tooth and claw against that authority.\n\nA few years ago, I recall one population control advocate being given some air time on a UK national radio station. He was planning to adopt a child, and when asked what his motivation was for adopting, he said it was a moral decision. By adopting instead of procreating he was helping to curb the number of people in the world, thus protecting the planet from environmental damage and all the associated suffering. It was, by the scientific definition, an altruistic act: there was a genetic fitness cost to him (as he was not passing on his genes) and a fitness benefit for all the various people and species of the future. He should have been praised, but in the phone-in on the show, many people were outraged. They attacked his stance and said he shouldn't be allowed to adopt at all. The reason was that his action was shining a spotlight on the genetic psychopathy of the listeners and so they went on the attack to defend their right to pass on their genes. When it comes to the matter of population control, the genetic psychopaths can be extremely aggressive.\n\n## Scope for Change\n\nYet again, the major obstacle for a healthy world is psychopathy, largely genetic. In this instance it is the narcissistic aspect of psychopathy which generates so much suffering. And again, the people involved in fixing the world are often naive about the true nature of the problem. In research for this chapter I read through four text books on the psychology of environmental problems and the word _psychopathy_ didn't come up once. There were minor passages on narcissism, but it was clear that even the psychologists underestimate the influence of psychopathy. It is the secret pandemic, so ubiquitous that it is difficult to see.\n\nSo to fix the world's environment, again we need to fix psychopathy. As we already know, that is a big ask for a single person in therapy; to heal the psychopathy of around seven billion people is a large task indeed.\n\nBut we have seen ways in which harmful, psychopathic actions may be influenced. People will typically adopt the moral code of the group to which they are a member, breaking down the unhealthy social norms, replacing them with healthy behaviour. We will look, towards the end of the book, for actions which an ordinary person can take to heal the GCD.\n\n\"There's something I should tell you Doctor Zab,\" said Hugh.\n\n\"What is it Hugh?\"\n\n\"Well, before you beamed me up, me and my wife were trying for a third child.\"\n\n\"Okay, go on...\"\n\n\"After all you've been telling me, that doesn't look like the right thing to do.\"\n\n\"Good, Hugh, you're thinking about your responsibility for the world, that's very healthy,\" Zab encouraged Hugh.\n\n\"But Sheila, my wife, and the clone, they're probably still trying...\" Hugh stopped dead for a few seconds, his eyes and mouth wide open. \"OH MY GOD!!!\"\n\nZab jumped a little in his seat. \"WHAT?! Oh, what is it Hugh?\"\n\n\"THAT CLONE HAS BEEN HAVING SEX WITH MY WIFE!!!\" Hugh was distraught at the sudden revelation.\n\n\"Oh... I see...\" Zab relaxed and breathed out a little sigh. \"It's all right Hugh. We've, well, we've been putting a kind of bromide in his tea. They won't consummate the relationship. It's quite safe.\"\n\n\"Oh thank GOD for that.\" Hugh's panic dissipated. \"Well, when I get back, we won't try, I'll have the snip. Two is plenty. But, hey, even two kids is damaging isn't it? One is better, or none at all... what can I do about that? I can't fix what I've already done... I've done the wrong thing again... Oh no... I can't change it...\" Hugh was depressed at the thought of being part of the problem once more.\n\n\"Oh Hugh, it's all right, you're trying to think about these issues. It isn't necessary to have no children at all. Mental health is all about changes being made in the present.\"\n\n\"Ok...\"\n\n\"It's the same with family planning. You made the decision to have your two children _before_ you had thought much about your world. The timing is critical. Back then your mental map was not so developed – you didn't realise the impact of what you were doing so there was less guilt attached to having your two children. But when it comes to mental health, you are judged solely on your actions _from the present onwards_. You have grown, your map is bigger and more accurate now, and you can now see the need to limit how many children you have. You're becoming a different man, a new man, and you are judged now by different standards. You can be forgiven your past actions, and you are free to enjoy the children you already have; you needn't feel guilty about what you have done already. So long as your actions from now onwards show good, healthy responsibility. You can have your children from the past _and_ be a healthy person in the present _as well!_ When we are mentally healthy, things always work out for the best. Don't feel bad about your children, but do feel good about yourself, now you are becoming a healthy, responsible _Homo sapien_. You are making excellent progress.\"\n\nThe links to share and discuss this book on Facebook and Twitter are at::\n\nwww.TheShrinkFromPlanetZob.com.\n\n# 11 Feeling Down\n\nIt was ten minutes since the session was due to start, but Hugh still hadn't arrived. Dr Zab sat at his desk and operated the intercom.\n\n\"Quark, do you know the whereabouts of Hugh today, he's a bit late?\"\n\n\"I haven't seen him Sir. Shall I find him?\"\n\n\"Would you please? And remind him he has an appointment with me ten minutes ago.\"\n\nQuark went to Hugh's quarters and called at the door. There was no answer. She checked her wrist computer which told her he was inside.\n\n\"Mr Manitee? Are you there? It's time for your appointment. Dr Zab is waiting for you.\"\n\nHugh remained silent. Quark was concerned. She felt it was her duty to go inside.\n\nHugh was sitting on his sofa with his head in his hands staring at the floor, his breakfast and coffee on the table, untouched and cold.\n\n\"Hugh, are you all right? We were worried about you. What's wrong?\" Quark put a tentacle on Hugh's shoulder, but Hugh remained silent.\n\nQuark called Dr Zab on the intercom and asked him to visit Hugh's room.\n\nZab entered Hugh's living room, and Quark left them to talk.\n\n\"Hugh? I've come to see if you are all right. Can you tell me why you didn't arrive at your appointment today? If there is something wrong I will need to know. Remember I'm here to support you.\"\n\nFor fifteen minutes Zab sat trying to get Hugh to speak. Eventually, Hugh turned to Zab, with tears in his eyes.\n\n\"Tell me Hugh, tell me how you feel,\" said Zab.\n\n\"It's terrible.\"\n\n\"What is Hugh? Tell me.\" Zab suspected he knew why Hugh was looking so down, but he let Hugh talk.\n\n\"This. My world. Me. It's just so... so sad.\"\n\n\"Go on.\"\n\n\"My species, and me as well, we're so cruel. The problems are so big. They can't be fixed. We're going to spend all our futures suffering with wars, and dying of poverty on a planet that has become a dead rock. It's just... I can't face it and I can't do anything about it. There isn't any hope.\"\n\n\"I see how you feel Hugh. Together we have looked at a lot of pain in your world; you know that is why we came to Earth. If your world was functioning well, we would never have arrived. But we need to keep on seeing things clearly. I think perhaps we need to be more objective. Come over to your viewer.\"\n\nZab called Hugh to the screen, and activated the console, bringing up images of Hugh's planet.\n\n\"No, I don't want to see any more,\" Hugh resisted.\n\n\"It's okay Hugh. I'm going to show you something different...\"\n\nAnd with that, Zab zoomed down to Middle Europe, to Germany. In a hall in a town centre there were people dancing and a band playing, their faces adorned with smiles. Zooming down to Africa, to a poor village once more. In a classroom, there were thirty black children and a young white woman was teaching the children French . The children and teacher burst into spontaneous laughter. Over to the West coast, in a bay there was a yacht with teenagers aboard racing with the wind led by a middle aged man, all their faces bright and sprayed with salty water. Across the Atlantic to America, and down to a stadium by a city, thousands of people were standing and cheering as a baseball player struck a ball clear out of the field. South to Mexico, where children were sitting having a meal and laughing with their grandparents. West to the Pacific, Hawaii. A group of tourists were standing, their mouths wide with awe, watching an erupting volcano. Then west again to Australia, to the Sidney Opera House, where a thousand people were applauding at the end of an operatic performance. North and west to Thailand to a city, to a festival where lights in paper lanterns floated magically down a river, and people stood and watched the serene vision. West to India, another festival where people were throwing coloured flour over each other, a vibrant spectacle filled with the sound of laughing. The view headed north to Russia, where politicians were signing a treaty to reduce nuclear weapons. And north finally to Norway, inside the Arctic Circle. On a hillside a family were standing gazing to the sky where curtains of dancing light filled the icy panorama.\n\nZab paused to see Hugh watching the images. \"Your world is very beautiful.\"\n\nHugh sat looking at the Northern Lights and thought.\n\n\"It's because your world is so beautiful that we want to help you protect it. Can you see the beauty?\"\n\nHugh paused and looked at Zab. \"I can see it... I love my world too.\"\n\n\"I think Hugh, focusing on all the problems, as we have, has not represented the whole truth. Remember mental health is about seeing the truth. But we needed to look at the problems to create the solutions. You are only part of the way through the therapy so far, but we will find that this whole experience in therapy is all about being positive, even when we are looking at the negatives. Do you see?\"\n\n\"I think so.\" Hugh paused and thought again. \"Will you help us? We need you.\"\n\n\"Of course. That's why I'm here. Do you want me to help?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"You know Hugh, I think you are feeling a bit depressed...\"\n\n\"Hmm... I think so,\" said Hugh softly, hesitating slightly.\n\n\"But, you know, it's not so straightforward as that; depression isn't always a bad thing in itself. Some therapists think there is actually something healthy about it. It means you are really looking at the truth, but that you are, at the moment, still looking for a way through it.\"\n\n\"Okay...\" Hugh was becoming accustomed to Zab's different outlook on everything.\n\n\"But we can do that. Together we can help you navigate through. I have helped a lot of aliens with depression, and there is always hope.\"\n\n\"I want there to be hope.\"\n\n\"I know.\" said Zab.\n\n## Depression on Earth\n\nDepression is on the increase in our world. The statistics on the illness reveal some alarming figures:\n\n\\- The World Health Organisation predicts that by 2020 depression will be the leading cause of disability and the second leading contributor to the global burden of disease.1\n\n\\- In the UK, half of all women and a quarter of all men will suffer from depression at some stage in their lives.2\n\n\\- In the UK, doctors diagnose around 2 million new cases each year.3\n\n\\- Depression is rising in people of all ages, with the most rapid growth rate in people aged 15 to 25 in the US.4 Studies have found that in the UK around 2 percent of teenagers suffer from the illness.5\n\n\\- In the UK Inner city dwellers are twice as likely to get depression as country dwellers.6\n\n\\- The prevalence of depression rises in England each year in the run up to Christmas.7\n\n\\- Suicide rates are increasing in all age groups in every country in the world.8\n\n\\- In the USA alone, depression costs US $43.7 billion each year in worker absenteeism, reduced productivity and health care (2005 dollars).9\n\nDespite the prevalence of depression, there are still people who believe it is a form of character weakness; some might think a depressed person is being self indulgent, pathetic or unstable and should just 'pull their socks up'.\n\nDepression differs from a short period of feeling sad in a number of ways. The psychological symptoms of depression may include:\n\n\\- Feeling continually low, sad or empty\n\n\\- Negative thinking\n\n\\- Constant anxiety\n\n\\- Feeling emotionally numb (having no mood changes at all)\n\n\\- A sense of loss or dread\n\n\\- Feeling more low in the morning or evening\n\n\\- Nothing bringing pleasure\n\n\\- Crying from slight or no upset\n\n\\- Concentration and memory problems\n\n\\- Delusions\n\n\\- Hallucinations\n\n\\- Suicidal thoughts\n\nThese psychological symptoms can be severely debilitating, but there may also be physical symptoms:\n\n\\- Unable to sleep, or sleeping too much\n\n\\- Physical slowing\n\n\\- Increased or decreased appetite\n\n\\- Weight gain or loss\n\n\\- Reduced libido\n\n\\- Tiredness, lethargy, aches and pains\n\n\\- Constipation\n\n\\- Disturbed menstrual cycle\n\nDepression then, is a major issue for any person intending on bringing sanity to planet earth. Treatment may be provided by antidepressant drugs, or by talking therapy (as in our story). Doctors have found that exercise, relaxation techniques and a healthy diet can help to lift depression.\n\nBut these treatments are really second best to prevention. What are the causes of depression, and can we eliminate those causes to heal our world?\n\n## Causes of Depression\n\nDoctors believe that a propensity for depression can sometimes run in families; some people may have a genetic make-up which increases their likelihood of experiencing depression. Perhaps one day in the distant future, people planning to have children will have their sperm and eggs screened for a 'depressive gene'. Such a _transhumanist_ approach to creating the next generation may remain in science fiction books, and is beyond the scope of this particular book.\n\nDepression may arrive in a person with there being little apparent cause to spark it off. But very often doctors have found that a person may experience depression after a period of stress or trauma or a significant life change. It may be initiated, for example, by starting a new job, losing a job, excessive workload, money problems, from graduating from University, by the death of a partner, the break-up of a relationship or the birth of a new baby.\n\nIn our story, Hugh is undergoing a major life change in gaining a new perspective on the world; Dr Zab is making Hugh aware of a great number of global problems which Hugh was previously oblivious to. The scale of the problems seems insurmountable and weighs heavy on Hugh's mind and, in real life, there will be many people who may be pushed towards depression when faced with such enormous problems as wars or climate change. We saw previously how therapy can take a person through different stages on the path to growth, and here Hugh is going through the stage of depression. Not every person in therapy will feel depressed, but it can happen.\n\nBut, as we saw in chapter 5, there are other common stressors which can lead to mental health problems, and they have to do with how people relate to each other.\n\nWe saw how a range of mental illnesses can be generated in a person who shares a relationship with another person who has psychopathic traits, and it is often the same for depression.\n\nA propensity for depression can be instilled into a person from a traumatic childhood. Psychologist Dr Caroline Shreeve identified the significance of psychopathic parenting when she wrote, \"...a child who is made to feel unwanted, useless and even possibly, hated... will be prone to depression in childhood and later on.\"10 Psychological or physical child abuse or neglect have been found to be associated with an increased chance of developing depression in later life.11 This kind of abusive or negligent parenting are distinctly psychopathic, there being gratification for the parent in them making time to feed their own desires, at the expense of suffering for the child.\n\nRelationship problems are likely to create depression when they occur in later life. For example, a potentially depressed person may find they suffer high stress from finding themselves in a relationship with a person who has psychopathic traits, or a parent may find it is their child who has psychopathic leanings and is the source of the stress which could lead to depression. In such situations a person may 'self blame'. They may find it difficult to place the blame on another person who they would rather worship, finding it easier to look for faults in themselves. This is called _personalisation,_ and it corrodes confidence, self esteem and sense of self which can all contribute to a depression. In such a process an individual may be coerced by the psychopathic other into taking on responsibilities which are only partly or not at all their own. This burden, instigated by the genetic psychopath, may lead to depression.\n\nEvidence has shown that psychopathy which manifests as neighbourhood social disorder can play a part in depression. Being on the receiving end of local crime, for example, can increase the risk of becoming depressed.12 Again, it is a manifestation of psychopathy which generates the depression.\n\nA more subtle form of psychopathy can lead to depression by way of social exclusion, as we saw in chapter 5. Studies have found evidence which shows this kind of social rejection increases the risk of depression, and a complete absence of social support may cause strain which could lead directly to the illness.13,14\n\nWhen people turn to drugs of solace, maybe alcohol or cannabis, they risk entering a vicious cycle: the drugs may alleviate the anxiety associated with depression, but the drugs can also generate depressive feelings. Where did the vicious cycle start? For many people it will start with the stress caused by a relationship with a genetic psychopath. The drug and alcohol abuse will merely be later manifestations of genetic psychopathy, which subsequently leads to depression.\n\nThe tendrils of genetic psychopathy reach out into so many niches in our lives, often unnoticed. For example, we find it when we look at the role guilt can play in causing depression. The guilt may be justified and result from a previous transgression; if this is the case it is healthy, existential guilt. But the transgression occurred in any event, and that was probably down to selfish motivations. It will often be the case that genetic psychopathy created those selfish desires which led to the transgression, which generated the guilt, which caused the depression. And if a depression is caused by neurotic guilt, the culprit can still be genetic psychopathy. A genetic psychopath may do some wrong, and then, to hide their shame, they place guilt onto an innocent bystander: the bystander takes on the neurotic guilt, which in time may lead to a depression.\n\nThe final possible cause of depression which is linked to psychopathy, is wanton consumerism. We saw in chapter 9 how unbridled consumerism (affluenza) may, at best, not alleviate depression, and, at worst, may create it. And consumerism is, as we saw, the giving in to the desire for gratification in a world where other people live in poverty: another psychopathic act which has a link to depression.\n\nDepression, then, has a variety of causes and cures. But our concern here is with psychopathy. It is clear that to cure many cases of depression, we need to first cure genetic psychopathy.\n\n\"I think Hugh, this might be a good opportunity to look again at how your clone is getting on on Earth.\"\n\nZab could see Hugh was still reeling from months of challenges. It was timely to boost Hugh's self esteem. But at the mention of the clone, Hugh reeled once again.\n\n\"Ohhh noooo... I don't want to look at him, well I don't want to look at myself right now. It doesn't feel good...\"\n\n\"I know how you feel Hugh, I remember when I was in therapy, I felt just as you do. But just relax for a moment, this may surprise you.\"\n\nAnd Zab aimed the viewer back to Hugh's home. His young son was having a birthday party. In the back garden was a table laid out with a children's feast. Sheila was organising the kids, getting them all to shout out together, \"We're-ready, come-to-the-party!\" From inside the house the clone emerged, dressed as a giant fluffy pink rabbit. He came out onto the patio, did a little dance routine, went over to hug his son and entertained the children with lots of terrible jokes. He passed out gifts for them all. The children screamed with laughter and grabbed at the costume, dancing and pushing, until eventually the giant rabbit fell over backwards onto the lawn, and the kids tried to use him as a trampoline. Sheila watched, bent double in hysterics.\n\nAs Hugh watched, his tears gave way to a hesitant smile, which grew into a grin and eventually a small laugh. Tears still fell from his eyes, but now it was the release of all the emotion: the pain _and_ the joy.\n\n\"Hugh, you are a good father.\"\n\nHugh was slow to take the compliment after months of painful introspection. He shrugged.\n\n\"It's true,\" said Zab, \"this is just one instance. In your life you have brought a lot of joy to a lot of people.\"\n\nHugh looked confused. \"But I'm a psychopath, I know that. What are you saying now?\"\n\nZab didn't like to use the term psychopath, but Hugh was right.\n\n\"Hugh, you are a normal _Homo sapien_ _._ Remember we chose you because you are the world's most ordinary person. You _Homo sapiens_ have a cliché: _there's good and bad in everyone_. This is what normal means. The two sides of you coexist in one person. Both things are true, you are a good father sometimes, at other times you hurt your world. We have to acknowledge the whole truth to help your mental wellbeing. The _whole_ truth. I know there has been a lot of criticism of you. That was necessary. But you can keep your hope and your self esteem if you look at your good points too.\"\n\nHugh quietly took on board Zab's words.\n\n\"Growth is about reducing the hurtful side,\" said Zab, \"at the same time as developing the good. This happy time can protect you from feeling too down. It's necessary to look at the good in yourself to work through the depression.\"\n\nHugh sat in silence.\n\n\"Hugh? Are you still with me?\"\n\nHugh nodded, but said nothing.\n\n\"Are you willing to do some more work?\"\n\nAfter a few seconds the welling up of emotion in Hugh had slowed down, and he looked at Dr Zab.\n\n\"This is the hardest thing I have ever done,\" he said softly. \"I have worked all hours for twenty years, I built my own home, I have ridden a bike across Britain, I came out alive from a vicious car crash and spent a month in hospital, I nursed my father when he was dying... but I have _never_ done anything as difficult as this.\"\n\nZab listened intently. After Hugh had paused for a while, Zab stepped in to nudge him forwards.\n\n\"Are you willing to carry on with the work?\" he asked.\n\nHugh was still looking at the whole process of therapy, analysing the analysing. He looked at the floor.\n\n\"It's _so_ hard,\" he paused, focusing in and staring down, \"but I want to carry on. I don't want to stop yet. I've come this far, I don't want to give up.\"\n\nZab could see in Hugh's face the turmoil as he faced the fear of more therapy. As he watched Hugh, he felt strong pangs of admiration for Hugh's courage. Dr Zab's love for Hugh was strong. He observed Hugh and could see that, with every consultation, Hugh was becoming well.\n\nThe links to share and discuss this book on Facebook and Twitter are at::\n\nwww.TheShrinkFromPlanetZob.com.\n\n# 12 Snakes In Suits\n\n\"All right Hugh,\" said Zab, \"we're doing well I think. I think your depression has shifted quite a bit now. How do you feel about moving along a little?\" Zab peered at Hugh over his spectacles.\n\n\"Hmm. Yes, I feel... stronger now. It isn't easy still. To be honest, I'm still worrying about what you're going to bring up next.\"\n\nBut inside Hugh there was growing a new feeling. When, in the past, he felt Zab was punishing him, steadily, and unconsciously, Hugh began to feel that Zab was actually supporting him. He wasn't aware of this; the feeling was still deep inside his mind. But the new feeling of being supported was there nonetheless.\n\n\"Right,\" Hugh drew in a deep breath, gritted his teeth and continued, \"okay, let's go on.\"\n\nZab smiled. \"Well, you will be pleased to know that this isn't really about you. You work in a post office, this issue is really about what you call _commerk.\"_\n\n\"Pardon?\"\n\n\"Commerk,\" repeated Zab.\n\nHugh sat bemused for a moment. \"Do you mean _commerce?_ \" he said.\n\n\"Hmm, well it says commerk in my notes.\"\n\n\"It's pronounced with an 's'.\"\n\n\"Ah,\" said Zab, \"I see.\" Zab thought for a moment how bizarre this species was. \"Well, I want to look at how your world runs itself. I read somewhere that you think you have a thing called _money.\"_\n\n\"Well, I don't think I have money: I _do_ have money. At least I did before you abducted me.\"\n\nZab frowned at Hugh.\n\n\"Sorry...\" said Hugh, \"brought me on board to _heal_ me.\"\n\n\"Okay ,\" Zab went on, \"well, you don't have any money. In fact, there _is_ no money.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Oh... well... don't worry about that right now, we'll come on to that later. Anyway, I want to look at your world of commerce, I think there are...\"\n\n\"Mental health issues, I expect,\" Hugh interrupted.\n\n\"Hmm... Yes, that's right.\"\n\n\"Go on.\"\n\nHugh sat back and waited for the therapy.\n\n## The Birth of the Corporation\n\nIn the world of commerce, people's inner nature is really allowed to shine (though as we have seen it often shines a dark kind of light!)\n\nFor hundreds of years prior to the Industrial Revolution, businesses were run as strictly private enterprises. A person, a family or partnership would invest their own money into a relatively small business. Attached to the investment of money came a personal responsibility. If the business fell into debt, the debts would ultimately be paid for by the business owner, who risked going bankrupt if things went badly.\n\nThis system worked adequately well as there were still wealthy people who had the financial backing to set up fair sized businesses. But with the Industrial Revolution came larger business schemes such as canals and railways. The investment required to establish one of these was beyond the wealth of individuals. So it was that, in the nineteenth century, business leaders got together with politicians to push for the formation of limited liability companies. Shares in such companies could be sold publicly to amass the large amount of money needed to set the business up. Not only that, but should the business go bust and fall into heavy debt, the owners of the business (the shareholders) would be excused liability for the debts, losing only the money they invested and no more. In the nineteenth century the proposition was hotly debated with many opponents reeling at the idea that the moral responsibility for debt could be side-stepped in this way. Nonetheless, limited liability was made into a corporate law in 1856 in England and in the latter part of the nineteenth century in the USA.\n\nWith the birth of the corporation as a legal entity, came a further diminishing of responsibility for the people actually running the business i.e. the managers and directors. No more were they gambling their own money on the business, they were now gambling someone else's money. They were given freedom to run a company in the way that would gain them the highest pay with none of the worry of paying off large debts should the company go bankrupt.\n\nBy now, the reader should have alarm bells ringing in their head at the mention of the word _responsibility_ (or lack of it). The limited liability corporation provides an easy way for business owners and operators to drift into behaviour which is often less than ethical.\n\n##  Corporate Responsibility versus Psychopathy\n\nSocial responsibility was taken out of the equation when the corporation was born. In 1916 Henry Ford learned this the hard way. Ford believed that his company should be more than just a machine for profit. He offered a service to society by way of paying his workers substantially more than the going rates and providing customers with annual discounts on his Model T cars.1 Two of the major shareholders of Ford, John and Horace Dodge, were looking to establish their own car building company and planned to finance their venture using the quarterly dividends from their shares in Ford. They were prevented from getting their dividend when Henry Ford diverted the money to make further price reductions on the Model T cars. The Dodge brothers took Ford to court arguing that the profits belonged to the shareholders. The judge agreed, reinstating the dividend and rebuking Ford, saying that a business should not be run \"for the merely incidental benefit of shareholders and for the primary purpose of benefiting others.\"2\n\nThe corporate legislation had created something which put profits and power before any altruistic benefit to society. In fact, it is _illegal_ for a corporation to act in any genuinely socially responsible fashion at the cost of the shareholders. The Canadian lawyer and corporate expert Joel Bakan argues that this is the essence of psychopathic behaviour: corporations then are legally sanctioned psychopaths.\n\nPsychopathy expert and devisor of the Psychopathy Check List, Dr Robert Hare, identified some corporate behaviour as psychopathic.4 As a corporate employee, you may try \"to destroy your competitors or you want to beat them one way or another... and you're not particularly concerned what happens to the general public as long as they're buying your product,\" he said in interview. When Hare applied his check list to the corporation's institutional character he found plenty of evidence for psychopathy: the corporation is irresponsible in putting everybody else at risk to pursue a corporate goal; corporations are manipulative in everything including manipulating public opinion; corporations have a grandiose personality, normally claiming to be number one in their field; they exhibit a lack of empathy; they don't really concern themselves with their victims ; they refuse to accept responsibility for their own actions and do not feel remorse – corporations may get caught breaking the law, they may pay the fine and continue with what they were doing previously, unhindered by a penalty which may be trivial compared to the profits gained from illegal activity; finally, Dr. Hare claimed that corporations relate to others superficially, using charm to hide their selfish and self-absorbed personalities.\n\n## The Corporation as a Power Clique\n\nWe saw in chapter 7 how people's moral code can be dramatically influenced by the moral climate of the group of which they are a part, either for better or for worse. With the creation of a legal entity, the corporation, with a duty to put profits before social responsibility, the moral tone is set in stone at its very inception. The legal duty to pursue profits will add legitimacy to the lack of morals of the shareholders and directors. Any altruistic ideology which they may normally have had will quickly dissolve as they can readily pass the blame for moral wrongs on to the statute books. The lack of morality is established from the top down. New recruits to the company will be placed under pressure from the top to adopt the company's lack of moral fibre, just as we saw previously so many instances of people acting in a psychopathic fashion in order to become part of the group. And before long, the corporation has become a self-serving psychopathic power clique.\n\nIn any corporation, there is likely to be a 'hierarchy of fear'. Each employee will be under pressure to tow the psychopathic party line, plundering the world's resources and exploiting people as much as possible to obtain ever more money. Any individual who doesn't do so will be liable to lose their job. I suspect this is the same hierarchy of fear which would have prevailed in Hitler's Nazi Party. Any Nazi officer showing altruistic leanings towards the Jews or Allied Forces would at best be expelled, or maybe even murdered. The fear of loss existing inside the mind of a corporation's employee, a genetic urge, will serve to make strong the bonds in the corporative power clique.\n\n## A Case Study\n\nAny person who makes a stand for social responsibility in the world of commerce is likely to fall foul of the paradigm of fiscal greed, as Anita Roddick of The Body Shop discovered. From the birth of her business, making soap in her kitchen , Roddick brought into her work an extension of her responsible world view, building a business which aimed to serve society. \"The whole purpose of business if you're accumulating profits is to give it away, give the bloody stuff away... Do the best you can in the community. Just be a beacon in the community,\" she said.5 She put into her business numerous programmes to support causes such as human rights, the environment, social justice and women's rights.\n\nIn 1982 Roddick needed funds to expand her business, so she floated the company offering shares on the London Stock Exchange. By the mid 1990's, pressure from investors was pushing for an overhaul of management practices to promote performance and efficiency. Looking back on the floatation, Roddick said it was like making a \"pact with the Devil.\"6\n\nThings came to a head when, in the wake of Seattle's 1999 protest against the World Trade Organisation (WTO), Roddick called for The Body Shop to take a stand against the WTO. The new management said no. The once maverick, socially responsible company she had grown had been consumed into the corporate world, killing off the dream of championing the causes in exchange for the overriding pursuit of money. Roddick's role diminished further as she stepped down as co-chair with her husband, to become a part time consultant. The then new executive chairman Adrian Bellamy summed up the transition when he said, \"We believe in social responsibility, but we are very hard-nosed about profit. We know that success is measured by the bottom line.\"7\n\nRoddick's words, years later, remind us of psychopathy when she said the corporation \"stops people having an empathy with the human condition.\"8\n\n##  The International Pharmaceuticals Industry\n\nOur usual examination of psychopathy with regards to fitness cost and benefit can illuminate the mechanisms involved in some business activities. We can see psychopathy when we look at the drug manufacturing industry. For example, 80 percent of people live in developing countries, but these people are poor and so don't have much money to spend on drugs, so they represent only 20 percent of the global drugs market.9 Unsurprisingly then, drugs companies focus their research on developing drugs for the wealthy 20 percent of the world's population. Of the 1,400 drugs developed between 1975 and 1999, only 13 were designed to treat or prevent tropical diseases. In the year 2000 no drugs were being developed to treat tuberculosis (existing almost exclusively in developing countries), compared to 8 for impotence and 7 for baldness. Personality disorder in household pets seems to attract more drugs research than controlling diseases which kill millions of human beings each year.10 The fitness cost is obviously for the poor in developing countries, who are either going to suffer or even die, and the fitness benefit and gratification are for the people making the vast profits as employees and shareholders of the drugs corporations. It is psychopathy in action again.\n\n## More Case Studies\n\nSometimes corporations go further than being responsible for poor working conditions. Sometimes a corporation will hold people's actual lives, or deaths, in the balance.\n\nIn the early hours of Christmas Day 1993, Patricia Anderson was driving home from midnight mass with her four children in the backseat of their 1979 Chevrolet Malibu car. At a red light she was forced to stop, and whilst waiting for the light to change, another car collided into the back of hers causing an immediate fire. Anderson and her children suffered horrible and disfiguring burns to their bodies and faces. One child had to have a hand amputated. Anderson sued General Motors, her lawyers claiming that the fuel tank of the Malibu had been insufficiently protected from possible collisions.11\n\nA lengthy trial ensued, and ultimately GM were found guilty of positioning the fuel tank to save costs. The fuel tank of the Malibu was eleven inches from the rear bumper, moved 9 inches closer from the previous year's model. It also lacked a metal brace separating the fuel tank from the rear of the car, as on the previous model. A 1969 company directive recommended fuel tanks be at least seventeen inches from the rear.\n\nIn the trial, evidence came to light that GM were aware of the possibility of fires fed by the fuel tank; there had already been 31 fuel-fed fire suits filed against the company. In planning the build of Anderson's model of the Malibu, the company had made a prediction of how much they would be expected to pay in damages for subsequent fuel-fed fires. The company engineer Edward C. Ivey filed his report to management with his calculation of how much each fatality would cost the company.12 He calculated that each fatality would cost GM US $2.40 per car; the calculation appeared in the memorandum as follows:\n\nThe cost to the company for making sure that the fuel tanks were protected in the event of a crash was estimated to be US $8.59 per car, meaning that the company could save US $6.19 per car if it allowed people to die in fuel-fed fires, instead of building safety features into the design of the vehicles.13\n\nThe jury in the court case found General Motors' actions to be morally reprehensible and illegal as they had put profits before public safety. After a settlement, GM was ordered to pay US $1.2 billion in compensatory and punitive damages. But GM didn't take the ruling lying down; they filed an appeal. In the appeal, the US Chamber of Commerce, a leading voice for big business, told the appeals court that jurors are \"not well positioned to make accurate risk assessments,\" they \"tend to balk at any attempt to put a dollar value on human life\" and that they are too easily distracted by the plaintiff's lawyer to feel the \"traditional public sense of the sanctity of life\" and to view \"risk-utility balancing as unspeakable callousness.\"  In other words, the Chamber of Commerce thought the jurors were wrong to uphold traditional values of life such as family, love, friendship, joy and other such intangibles.14\n\nThe reader can look at the fitness cost and benefit, and gratification or suffering in this case and decide whether the cost saving fuel-tank design was a symptom of psychopathy.\n\nThe cost benefit analysis of GM regarding the deaths of car crash victims may seem shocking, but some corporations are prepared to stoop lower in their pursuit of profit.\n\nWhen Adolf Hitler sought technical assistance from IBM in the running of their extermination and slave labour programmes, IBM were happy to oblige.  IBM provided the Nazis with Hollerith tabulation machines, early ancestors of computers, which made calculations using punch cards. In _IBM and the Holocaust_ , author Edwin Black writes, \"The head office in New York had a complete understanding of everything that was going on in the Third Reich with its machines... that their machines were in concentration camps generally, and they knew that Jews were being exterminated.\"15 IBM serviced the machines, provided punch cards for their operation and trained the users, according to Black, at least up until 1941, when America declared war on Germany.\n\nThe motivation for IBM's support of the Nazi holocaust? According to Black, \"...it was always about profit.\"\n\nThe head of IBM at that period, Thomas Watson, said he had concerns about working with the Nazis not because it was immoral, but because from a public relations perspective, it was risky.16\n\nGeneral Motors also worked for the Nazis in the same period. Alfred Sloan Jr., chairman of General Motors in 1939 seemed equally unconcerned about the moral implications of his corporation's work. He believed that the political climate in Nazi Germany \"...should not be considered the business of the management of General Motors.\"17 It was reported that in less than three weeks after the Nazis occupied Czechoslovakia (in March 1939), the GM chairman Alfred P. Sloan defended this business strategy (GM not divesting its German assets) as sound business practice, justifying the action as \"highly profitable.\" In a letter to a concerned shareholder, dated April 6th 1939, Sloan wrote that the internal politics of Nazi Germany \"should not be considered the business of the management of General Motors... we must conduct ourselves [in Germany] as a German organization... We have no right to shut down the plant.'\"18\n\nThis marriage of American business with the Nazis may be an astonishing example of profits before morals, but many western corporations are still doing profitable work with regimes which are totalitarian and authoritarian, simply because doing business with them makes a lot of money. And some corporations are prepared to break their country's laws to take part in this trade. For example, _The Wall Street Journal_ reported that eighty-six companies, among them IKEA, Goodyear, First Union Bank and CAN Financial, had been fined under the US Trading with the Enemy Act between 1998 and July 2002.19 The act makes it an offence to trade with a list of countries with oppressive regimes, including Iran, Iraq, Cuba, North Korea, and Taliban controlled Afghanistan. Again, we are seeing profits being put before morality. We have seen previously how law breaking is one of the symptoms of psychopathic personality disorders, and we see it often in the corporate world.\n\n## Corporations and the Environment\n\nCorporations wield a power which has come to dominate the world. They are often unsatisfied with their lot, continually pushing the limits of what they are allowed to exploit. When regulations stand in the way of profit, the corporations' tactic is to remove the regulations. For the narcissist, any limits on his freedom are violently opposed, and this is what we witness in the corporations' distaste for government regulation.\n\nOften it is the environment which pays the price for corporate greed. When the US government was pushing for an amendment which would increase fuel efficiency for gas-guzzling sports utility vehicles, the industry felt a threat to its profits. They spent millions of dollars on attempts to prevent the bill becoming law, employing professional Washington D.C. lobbyists to manipulate the politicians.20 And they won. The regulation was denied from the statute books, the lobbyists' clients were free to continue to exploit their niche in the automobile industry, fuel consumption was kept high, helping to use up finite resources of oil and producing unnecessary quantities of CO2 to the environment, thus contributing to climate change. The gratification and fitness benefit is for the shareholders and operators of in the motor industry and for the purchasers of the vehicles; the fitness cost and suffering is for all life which may experience future destructive weather patterns due to climate change and the production of the SUV's is unnecessary . All these aspects point us in one direction, when we analyse the personalities of those people blocking the regulatory law.\n\n##  Manipulating the Truth\n\nCorporations are often adept at manipulating people by massaging the truth. For example, tobacco advertisers would have us believe that their adverts don't encourage people to smoke; they would like us to believe they merely make people change brands of cigarettes. It is a way for the tobacco companies to side-step their shame for giving people cancer; it is a psychopathic lie. The psychopath has the grandiose personality which always wants to be high up on the ladder of social esteem, and when the tobacco companies deny their pedalling of death, they climb that ladder.\n\nCorporations seek out gullible people who are easy to manipulate. Some companies approach children to promote their wares as children have immature minds which are easier to influence. Proctor and Gamble made their way into classrooms with their Decision Earth programme which portrayed deforestation as a virtue. It stated that \"clear cutting removes all trees... to create new habitats for wildlife. P&G uses this economically and environmentally sound method because it most closely mimics nature's own processes. Clear cutting also opens the floor to sunshine, thus stimulating growth and providing food for animals.\"21\n\n##  Corporations Manipulate Politicians\n\nAnother way corporations influence governments is by way of the political donation. Perhaps such donations appear to benefit society, promoting a healthy government which is well funded and so able to make decisions which will boost the economy. But it must be remembered that every corporation is legally bound to make a profit for its shareholders. It may _only_ make donations when there is a reasonable prospect of a financial return being achieved. By law, political donations _have to_ be self serving. Or, in other words, by law, political donations _have to_ be psychopathically motivated. Corporations make donations typically to help remove trade restrictions, to boost their productivity, to make more money. And the money provides the gratification and fitness benefit for the shareholders and business operators.\n\n## Globalisation\n\nWith the spread of globalisation, corporations from developed countries have been freed to place their manufacturing into developing countries where labour is cheap and restrictions on working conditions and environmental protection are poor. Often corporations keep the locations of such sweat shops secret, knowing it is easier to exploit low paid teenage workers behind closed doors.\n\nIt was the job of Charles Kernaghan of the American human rights group The National Labor Committee to track down such manufacturing units. He has found it useful to scour rubbish dumps looking for discarded documentation which can reveal the whereabouts of the sweatshops. On one rubbish dump in the Dominican Republic, Kernaghan found documents which revealed evidence of Nike's pricing strategy. The purpose of the pricing plan was to optimise the amount of money which could be made from the girls and young women who were sewing garments for Nike in developing world sweatshops. For a tee shirt, for example, the manufacturing was broken down into twenty-two separate stages of production from cutting to bagging, and each task was given a time to complete. In total, a tee shirt took 6.6 minutes to make for which Nike was paying 8 cents for the labour and charging US $22.99 dollars at retail in the United States (2005 dollars).22\n\nKernaghan has visited factories in countries such as Honduras, Nicaragua, China and Bangladesh; typically they are surrounded by barbed wire. Out of public view the workers are often women who are supervised by guards who may beat and humiliate them. If they become pregnant they are fired. Work is mind-numbingly tedious, repeating the same action of maybe stitching a trouser leg perhaps two thousand times a day. Shifts can be up to fourteen hours long, in an overheated factory with limited breaks. Access to water is restricted, to limit the number of visits to the toilet. But all this suffering is highly profitable for the corporation.\n\nWith globalisation, the corporations are literally taking over the world. And they grow ever bigger: some corporations now have larger incomes than small nations. Each time there is a restriction on trade, the corporations are there to lobby for relaxation of the regulations, to ease their plundering of the world's resources, very often at a cost to the rest of the human and natural world.\n\nIn 1993 the World Trade Organisation (WTO)was created and the globalisation and deregulation ideology was deepened further. With growing power, operating in secret and influenced by the corporations, the WTO became a force which could change government policies the world over. With the power of the WTO came a shift from democratic government control to control by an unelected body whose sole purpose is to increase trade.\n\nWhen a US law banned shrimp imports from producers which did not use equipment to protect sea turtles from being accidentally caught, the WTO stepped in to defend against a violation of their standards.23 When the EU banned the import and production of beef which had been treated with synthetic hormones, the WTO did the same.24\n\nGovernments will use WTO standards to put pressure on other governments, threatening to bring a WTO complaint if they don't comply. When the EU proposed legislation to ban the import of fur sourced from leg-hold traps and of cosmetics tested on animals, the US and Canada used the force of the WTO to get the EU to drop their ban. The State of Maryland intended to ban the purchase of products from companies doing business in Nigeria, when the country was under the rule of a cruel dictatorship. When it became apparent that the move could incur a challenge from the WTO, the state government dropped the legislation.25\n\nIn all these examples, the reader needs to think about who is gaining, and who is paying the cost, and think about the true nature of psychopathy in people who are often considered to be perfectly ordinary healthy human beings.\n\n## Outlook\n\nIt is easy to fall into a trap when we look at psychopathy in businesses to think that it is the business which is psychopathic. It isn't. Every business decision is made by individuals, and those individuals are often making decisions which are psychopathic in nature. These are ordinary people who do this, not only the clinical psychopaths among us.\n\nThere are some solutions for the insatiable corporate lust for money. Government regulation works, though with the growth of neoliberalism and globalisation and lobby groups like the WTO, necessary regulation is often melting away.\n\nBut there are other options which work within the corporate system. Ethical investments for instance. Through these, investors are able to place their money into companies which show strong environmental concern, or which don't manufacture weapons or experiment on animals. Any investor can choose these options, but still these ethical investments exist on the fringe of commercial interests. Why? Because investors want the highest return for their money, they want the maximum payback even if there is a severe cost for other humans, animals or the environment. Or in other words, investors are usually psychopaths.\n\nHugh began to laugh, leaning back into his seat, raising his head up to the ceiling and laughing a gentle laugh, out loud.\n\n\"This is crazy!\" he said.\n\nZab looked to Hugh. \"Well, yes it is! That's why I'm here.\"\n\n\"I mean, to be fair Zab, this is pretty unrelenting isn't it? You know I have shares in UK Petroleum. I've done it again haven't I? That psychopathy is hunting me down. Like a dog! There's no escape is there?!\"\n\n\"Hmm...\" said Zab. \"Well, sorry about that. It's my job, and maybe you'll be grateful in time. I hope.\"\n\nHugh let out an ironic huff, with a smile and a roll of his eyes. \"Anyway,\" he said, \"you said I don't have any money. You're going to have to enlighten me there, because I know I have.\"\n\n\"Well, you _think_ you know you have,\" corrected Zab.\n\n\"No. I _know_ I know I have!\" Hugh smiled.\n\n\"No. You _think,_ you know you know.... you... that is... well anyway, you don't have any money, nobody does.\"\n\nHugh encouraged Zab on with a pair of raised eyebrows.\n\n\"The thing is Hugh, money is a purely abstract concept. It doesn't exist in physical reality at all.\"\n\n\"Coins exist.\"\n\n\"No, circular pieces of metal exist, but the idea that it is _money_ exists solely in the mind. Humanity could wake up tomorrow and decide that there was no money at all, and in reality there would be no difference. The animals have no concept of money, they see it for what it is – imaginary.\"\n\n\"A mental illness then?\" asked Hugh.\n\n\"Well, kind of. It's a useful delusion which serves to oil the workings of your world. But that's all. People think they can make money, but they can't. For example, when your Olympic games is said to generate money, it doesn't. All it does is divert money and subsequently resources from one place to another. When people get more money by running an Olympic games, it means somebody somewhere else is going without. In reality things like sport can't make money. In physical reality, such entertainments don't create anything other than joy, physically they use up resources. If you value joy then entertainments and sports have a use, but otherwise they don't make money and don't create anything particularly useful, in fact in the physical realm they merely divert and use up resources.\"\n\nHugh pulled a slightly pained expression, and Zab continued.\n\n\"When a business says it has made money, it hasn't, it has merely moved resources around, manufacturing things and using up people's time in work. You can't make money, it is physically impossible.\"\n\nHugh winced a little more, but it didn't help much. Zab went on.\n\n\"Money exists in the _mental realm_ only. I'm being pretty purist about it maybe. But this belief that money is real has allowed your wealthy people to pull the wool over the eyes of the poor. When a person earns interest, they are ultimately gaining physical resources for doing very little actual work. It's a way that your world takes from the poor to feed the rich. On our world we don't have interest like that and we don't have poverty. Your financial system is built on taking – on psychopathy. When a person _has_ more, they are able to _take_ more, because of financial investments and interest. And this leads to the rich getting richer and the poor getting poorer. On Zob, we have no psychopathy; our economic system is built on _giving_ as much as we can. Then when a person has little, they can't give as much, they start to receive, and they become wealthier, eventually every Zobian ends up with the same degree of wealth. You see?\"\n\n\"Sounds like Utopia.\"\n\n\"Well. I have visited Utopia and they have a similar system. It works quite well. There isn't much suffering on Zob.\"\n\nThe links to share and discuss this book on Facebook and Twitter are at::\n\nwww.TheShrinkFromPlanetZob.com.\n\n# 13 A Six Month Appraisal\n\n\"Good morning Hugh,\" said Zab, \"Do sit down.\"\n\nHugh sat down.\n\n\"How are you feeling today?\" Zab went on.\n\n\"Okay, I think. How do you think I'm doing?\"\n\n\"Well, that's really what I want to talk about. I want us to do an appraisal of the work we've done in the last six months. Go over the things which we've discussed. Is that okay with you?\"\n\n\"Fine. But I'm feeling okay now. A bit... different, but okay.\"\n\n\"Good. I'd like you to tell me, in your own words, what have been the milestones in your therapy so far?\"\n\n\"Milestones? Well, gosh there's been so many of them. I feel like this whole process has lifted the top off my head, pulled my brain out, fiddled around with it, then stuffed it back in the other way up!\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Zab, pulling a sincere expression, \"I can well understand that. Do go on...\"\n\n\"Well, I see now how mad the world is, that is, ordinary people. Like I was, and maybe still am, I don't know. Some of it has been... what's the word? _Disturbing,_ yes disturbing! In the extreme! It has scared me a lot at times. The phrase which I have found ringing in my ears after lots of sessions has been _genetic psychopathy._ That was really scary, finding out how much psychopathy there is in the world, especially finding it in myself. That was hard.\"\n\n\"Yes, I know. In fact finding psychopathy in yourself _is_ the hardest thing about psychotherapy. I suspect it's the hardest thing any _Homo sapien_ has to do. Can you remember how you felt at those times, when we looked at your psychopathy?\"\n\n\"God!\" Hugh huffed slightly with an ironic little breath. \"Well, I wasn't best keen, if you know what I mean!\"\n\n\"Go on...\" encouraged Zab.\n\n\"Actually, that's putting it mildly, there were lots of times when I was livid. I really, dare I say, hated you when you showed me where I was going wrong. So many times. Looking back on it now, I see I was wrong, and I think, how could I have been so cruel and selfish? It was a really strong reaction.\"\n\n\"Good, think hard, remember what the feelings were like...\"\n\n\"There was like a violent pulse bursting in my chest, and coursing round my veins, a real burst of adrenaline. At the times you showed me my psychopathy, I was utterly convinced you were wrong and I was right. I was so stupid. I thought you were not just foolish, but... _bad_. I thought you were the problem, not me. I often thought you were the insane one and me the one in control of my mind. I can't describe how angry I was with you. It was incredibly difficult to get over the psychopathy.\"\n\n\"Good. You remember it well. Did you spot a pattern?\"\n\n\"I sure did! It happened every time you brought up a moral issue, where I was doing the wrong thing. And every time, I didn't think I was wrong, but thanks to you I can see it now.\"\n\n\"Yes, Hugh. You've made some great positive changes. It's been most encouraging. So the pattern was that on moral issues I tried to show you where you were being cruel and selfish, and in every instance you hated me, attacked me and didn't think you needed to change. That is the text book pattern with psychopathy, the hardest of all the mental disorders to heal.\"\n\nWhat Zab and Hugh are discussing is exactly what happens in real life. Perhaps readers can recognise some of these symptoms in themselves. We have touched on quite a few moral issues so far in the book, and maybe some of them have evoked feelings of anger and disbelief in the reader. If you have felt these feelings which Hugh has felt, then you may well have had your own psychopathy exposed. None of us is perfect, and when a therapist or a book exposes our imperfections, we normally resort to aggressive denial of the truth.\n\nThe reader is encouraged to monitor their feelings as we continue with our discussion. If you notice any anger towards the author - that is the feeling we need to look at. Psychopathy is there in all of us. Think about the anger and the psychopathy as you read on. Scrutinise yourself (it isn't easy!) Become your own therapist. You will need to look for your own psychopathy for yourself, and that will take great courage.\n\nIt may be useful for the reader to take a few days to look at the feelings which have been experienced up till now, before we go on.\n\n\"So!\" exclaimed Zab as he snapped his note book shut. \"Good work! I think you deserve a break. Take a week off and come in to see me after that.\"\n\n\"Urr, okay, thanks.\"\n\nAnd Hugh left Zab's consulting room feeling a little content that he was making such good progress.\n\nThe links to share and discuss this book on Facebook and Twitter are at::\n\nwww.TheShrinkFromPlanetZob.com.\n\n# 14 Earthlings\n\nDr Zab was treading a difficult line, and he knew it. He had confronted Hugh with many moral issues in the therapy so far, and he had seen Hugh experience a whole range of emotions: denial, anger, bargaining, and a couple of months ago Hugh had been quite depressed. In a recent session, Zab was heartened to see Hugh make the bold decision to see the therapy out. It was a difficult line for certain. Zab knew that if he presented too much truth too soon, he would not only drive Hugh away, but maybe even make him worse – maybe neurotic, or violent or dangerously depressed. So it was with great trepidation that he planned to raise the next vital issue in healing the global catastrophic disorder.\n\nHugh arrived at the consulting room at the usual time. He took his usual seat and Dr Zab asked him the usual friendly questions about how he was feeling. Cautiously Zab steered the session towards the issue he had in mind.\n\n\"Now then Hugh, I would like you to keep a mental note of your feelings as we work through this session. Would you do that for me please?\" asked Zab.\n\n\"Okay, yes I can do that,\" said Hugh.\n\n\"I think I said in a previous meeting how well you are doing. Do you remember?\" Zab continued.\n\n\"Yes, I think so. Thanks.\"\n\n\"And you said before that you wanted to carry on with the therapy. Do you remember that? You said you didn't want to give up.\"\n\n\"Yes, I remember that too.\"\n\n\"Well, let's do just that. I think I told you back when we started the therapy about our Zobian rules on how we define mental health... or conversely, _illness._ \"\n\nHugh made a slow, hesitant \"...right...\"\n\nZab was laying the foundations for what he knew was going to be a most challenging issue for Hugh.\n\n\"Okay... well let's have a look closer at why we used the Galactic Mental Health Act to section your species. Let's see what your clone is up to today.\"\n\nWith that he operated the view-screen and the two of them looked down to Hugh's home. It was Christmas Day, and Hugh's family and his parents were around the kitchen table having Christmas dinner.\n\n\"Tell me what you think about this scene Hugh,\" said Zab, after he had given Hugh a moment to think.\n\n\"Well... obviously it's Christmas. It looks pretty good I'd say. They all seem to be having a nice time. And Christmas is a time for giving. They must have had presents from each other; we always do, especially for the kids.\" He studied the scene closely for a few minutes, but eventually drew a blank. \"I don't know. I can't see anything the matter here. If anything, I'd say this was a healthy scene all about giving to others.\"\n\n\"Okay, well how about if I remind you of one of the reasons we came to Earth. Do you remember right back at the start of your therapy when I told you about our Galactic Mental Health Act, which allows us to detain a species against its will 'with a view to the protection of other life'? That differs from your Earth Mental Health Act which allows mentally ill people to be detained only for the protection of other people. _\"_\n\nHugh was struggling to see what Zab was getting at. What did the Act have to do with Christmas dinner? But deep down in his psyche something had spotted the truth, something so deep that it couldn't make its way to the surface just yet. His unconscious knew it was going to be painful. In fact, Hugh didn't want that something to come to the surface at all.\n\nHugh shrugged, pursed his lips, and shook his head. Zab let him carry on looking at the images, hoping that Hugh would make the connection for himself, willing him on.\n\n\"It looks fine,\" Hugh concluded. \"Maybe you've made a mistake or something? You're going to have to tell me.\"\n\nZab was fearful of revealing the truth; he knew full well this was going to be a very painful issue for Hugh. He wanted to heal Hugh, but he was afraid the truth would send Hugh straight back to denial and anger, maybe even violence. He broached the subject very slowly.\n\n\"Have a look and think about the Galactic Act. Think about the words _'other life'._ \" Zab nudged Hugh on.\n\n\"Other life? The dog? The dog looks fine...\"\n\n\"Look at the table Hugh.\"\n\nHugh looked at the table. The food looked good. But inside his mind, that deep something was being nudged steadily to the surface. He started to feel uncomfortable, but wasn't quite sure why just yet. And then his demeanour became suddenly abrupt. \"It looks good.\" he said firmly.\n\nZab spotted the beginnings of denial, but he continued to push the issue.\n\n\"What is on the table? What's for dinner?\"\n\nHugh was unaware that he was avoiding the issue. \"Sprouts. That's good. I like sprouts. Roast potatoes. Urr... wine?\"\n\n\"Go on Hugh.\"\n\n\"Urr... Carrots? Gravy? \" He acted out a naive head shake, ridiculing the idea of looking at his dinner.\n\n\"And? Come on Hugh, tell me what's for dinner!\"\n\nHugh's lips turned down, as he couldn't escape the thing he was unconsciously trying to avoid. He was thinking about the words 'other life', when he burst out, \"Well, obviously there's a bloody turkey! It's bloody Christmas! You can't have Christmas without a bloody turkey!\" He rolled his eyes at Zab and couldn't stop his lips from forming a feint sneer.\n\n\"FINALLY!\" Zab called out with relief when Hugh eventually got to the truth. \"Yes, it's a traditional Christmas dinner, with turkey. It's quite.... _ordinary_ you might say? The kind of thing an _ordinary_ man like you might have for Christmas dinner?\"\n\nHugh couldn't hold in his sarcasm. \"Well, _durr!_ What of it? You can't possibly be telling me this is a mental health issue. Just... just forget it! This is mad! You are going nowhere with this!\"\n\nZab let Hugh carry on with his outburst.\n\nAfter more eye rolling, and heavy sighs, Hugh eventually focused his anger at Zab. \"IT'S YOU WHO'S THE BLOODY NUTTER!\"\n\nAnd with those words Hugh heard himself speaking. His new self awareness had given him no room to escape – to escape from the truth. The issue of the turkey was now present in Hugh's mind, and it was inescapably and painfully fighting to get heard, fighting to the surface, up and into his conscious mind. When he listened to himself he became exasperated at Zab. Hugh was now starting to be aware of his own condition; his unconscious was becoming conscious and he was observing the GCD in himself. He got up and paced around the consulting room with great anxiety.\n\n\"I JUST.... I... I... AAARGH...\" he said.\n\nHe continued, \"It's... you know what this is? It's... it's...\"\n\nHe further added, \"I don't... I mean, I don't... I can't believe...\"\n\nHugh shook his head again and made a few more heavy exasperated sighs, and stopped pacing to look Zab straight in the eye.\n\nZab smiled and raised his middle eyebrow expectantly.\n\n\"All life?\" said Hugh. \"You think that turkey is a mental health issue.\" He was stunned, and very angry.\n\nZab carried on smiling a calm smile, and offered an encouraging nod.\n\nIn Hugh's mind he went over all his options. He couldn't call Zab mad, he had tried that. He wanted to storm out, but remembered he had done it before; at this stage in the game it would look embarrassing and immature. For one fleeting moment the idea of punching Zab in the chin crossed his mind, but the Violence Moderation Circuit would stop him and anyway, something was different now. Something was different in Hugh's mind. Zab had made him angry yet again, but this time he didn't seriously want to punch Zab. Now, Zab was a friend. A bloody inconvenient friend! God knows he had never had such a bloody irritating friend. Hugh sometimes felt he hated him but, actually, when he looked at Zab sitting there smiling calmly while he stormed around the room, another word popped into Hugh's conscious mind, a word which shocked him. The word was _love_.\n\nHugh looked at Zab. He looked at his rancid appendages, his three independent eyes and that ridiculous slavering smile, but he didn't see the monster that he had met months before. He now saw someone he loved deeply, and someone he knew loved him. For the first time, in the midst of this crazy argument over a turkey dinner, Hugh came to understand love. When Hugh looked at Zab, he now saw a father figure. Hugh breathed out a gentle sigh and, with a shake of his head, let his mouth form a slight smile. Zab patted Hugh's seat with his tentacle. Hugh sat back down and waited to listen to Zab.\n\n\"Are you ready to carry on?\" said Zab.\n\nWith a careless shrug and a tilt of his head, Hugh replied, \"I think I'm ready...\"\n\n\"Okay,\" said Zab. \"Mental health is all about...\"\n\n\"Reality,\" Hugh interrupted.\n\n\"Yes, reality, that's right. We need to make sure your mind forms an accurate model of reality. Look at the viewer. We're going to see the reality on your world.\"\n\nWith that, Zab zoomed down to a building in the countryside near Hugh's home town. Outside, sheep were being herded in through the doors. They were panicking and trying to escape. Inside, the animals were being led one by one into the killing room. In the room, a man was systematically killing one, then another, then another. The bodies were hung up and mechanically stripped of their flesh, blood was pouring across the floor. In the cold winter chill, the corpses released their warmth as a foul clinging mist.\n\nZab zoomed out and south to Spain. Down to a bull ring. A bull was driving its horns into the flank of a horse. Long spikes driven into the bull's shoulders were waving around and ripping its muscles apart. Zab zoomed up and south again to Africa, to a village and into a hut. Two men were carrying out a ritual with a chicken, tearing it apart by its wings, the bird screaming in agony. They were trying to forecast the future by examining the torn body. Up again and east across the Indian Ocean to a small Indonesian island, down to a town, to a large warehouse. Inside was an arena. A crowd of men were placing bets as they watched two cockerels in the ring tearing at each other with razor sharp spurs that the men had tied to their legs. The birds were spattered with blood; one of them collapsed and the men cheered. East again to the seas around Japan. To a large ship. It fired a harpoon into the sea, and the water boiled with red, marking the slow painful death of another whale, killed in the name of research; a whale which was to end up on Japanese plates. Up and east again to South America, to the Amazon basin, where cattle were being ranched on land which had been prime rainforest. The sound of chainsaws was heard in the distance. North to the east coast of America, into a fishing boat. In the hold thousands of fish were trapped, being crushed and suffocated slowly to death. Finally, Zab headed up and east again, down to England, to a large factory in the countryside. Turkeys were being herded into a room where a woman was hanging each one up by the legs onto a conveyer of hooks which led through a hatch into another room.\n\nHugh felt sick. \"Okay. STOP.\"\n\nZab felt bad about showing Hugh the images; he didn't like seeing Hugh upset but it was necessary for Hugh's therapy to place the truth inside his mind.\n\n\"Take your time Hugh. I can't make you think about this. It's important that you want to look at it. You have to have your free will; it's all a part of the process. This is the truth which is not found in most _Homo sapiens'_ minds _._ What would you like to do?\"\n\n\"I want to take it slow.\"\n\n\"That's fine. This is a big issue for you. It's an even bigger issue for the animals you share your planet with.\"\n\n##  An Initial Assessment of Animal Rights\n\nIt is difficult when looking at the issue of animal rights not to write in emotive terms; the abuse of animals is so widespread and extreme. Each year 50 billion animals are killed for human interests in the world, for food, experimentation, entertainment and fashion.\n\nLet's look at experimentation first.\n\nMany experiments done on animals are for medical research. This aspect of animal use may be deemed to be unfortunate but justifiable by many, but there is suffering involved nonetheless. Animals are given diseases by injection or manipulation, they are given unpredictable drugs and have their bodies mutilated, often whilst still alive. Tests are very often painful; the British Union for the Abolition of Vivisection found that in 2004, 61 percent of animals used in tests were not given anaesthetics.1\n\nMany of the drugs developed by animal testing are to treat diseases of affluence, caused by unhealthy diets and lifestyle in wealthy countries such as diabetes, high blood pressure, heart disease, strokes, obesity and anxiety. The diseases of affluence could be avoided by preventative measures so, in these instances, animals are suffering needlessly for our careless lifestyles.\n\nBut medical research is the smaller part of animal experimentation.\n\nAnimals are routinely used for research in the field of psychology. It may seem that non-physical experiments could be less painful. Often this is not the case. For example, electric shocks form a part of many psychological tests.\n\nThe ingenuity of the suffering which is inflicted in psychological tests is often astonishing. In a series of experiments in the 1960's psychologists Harlow and Suomi studied the effects of isolation on infant monkeys.2 In tests, the monkeys were taken at birth and housed in solitary confinement in a stainless steel chamber without contact with any other animal or human. The experimenters concluded that the conditions would induce a state in the monkeys where \"the primary social responsiveness is fear.\"\n\nThe two scientists went further and devised a plan to provide baby monkeys with a surrogate 'monster mother'. In one test, baby monkeys were allowed to bond with a cloth monkey which would eject high pressure compressed air which would practically blow the infant's skin off. The result was that the baby monkey would cling ever tighter to the monster, that being the only reaction a baby monkey knows when it is terrified – to cling to its mother.\n\nThe scientists persevered and devised another monster mother which ejected a wire frame which would fling the infant across the cage. The infant picked itself up, waited for the frame to return to the cloth body and would cling again to the mother. Finally, the scientists created a porcupine mother which would eject sharp spikes from its body. The baby monkey was distressed, but when the spikes receded it would return to cling to the mother once again.3\n\nAnother psychology experiment was designed to look into 'learned helplessness'.4 For this, psychologists designed a 'shuttlebox' – an enclosed box separated into two compartments into which was placed a dog. The divide between the two sections was initially at the height of the dog's back. The dog, on one side, was given electric shocks through the floor which would encourage it to leap the divide into the other section. The scientists tried to discourage the dog from leaping across when they added an electrocuting floor to the other side of the box. The dog would yap in pain as the shocks were given. They then placed a sheet of plate glass between the two compartments. The dog \"jumped forward and smashed his head against the glass.\" The dogs showed symptoms such as \"defecation, urination, yelping and shrieking, trembling, attacking the apparatus\" and so on but, after ten or twelve days of torture, dogs who were prevented from escaping the shocks ceased to resist. The experimenters reported that they were \"impressed\" with this and concluded that the combination of the plate glass barrier and foot shocks were \"very effective\" at eliminating jumping by dogs.\n\nWhat the experimenters achieved in this experiment is anybody's guess. It seems like an aimless attempt to satisfy the experimenters' idle curiosity. When I read about experiments like these, I can't help thinking about the similarity with the horrible experiments which the Nazi's carried out on Jews during the period of the holocaust. In both instances, the animals or Jews being experimented on were considered somehow, lower forms of life.\n\nBut most experiments on animals are made in order to get products onto the market. It is sometimes deemed necessary to discover how poisonous a substance is before it is produced. For this, \"acute oral toxicity tests\" are carried out. In these tests, animals are force-fed the product, which may include such things as lipsticks, floor polish or paper. Tubes are often used to place the substance inside the animal's stomach, as the animal would not otherwise eat it. A common toxicity test is the LD50, which stands for \"lethal dose 50 percent\". This determines the dose which will kill 50 percent of the animals in the group being studied. Animals may die merely from the huge quantities of the substance which are ingested, and animals which are in severe pain or dying are not put out of their misery as that would produce inaccurate results.5\n\nAt times, it seems there are no experiments which some people are not prepared to carry out on animals: ten day old kittens had their eyes sewn shut to assess the effects of sight deprivation (Oxford University); nerve gas, cyanide, radiation, guns and missiles have been used on monkeys (US Government defence research); pigs and monkeys have been used as 'crash-test dummies' (General Motors); pig foetuses have been decapitated whilst still in their mothers' wombs to see how it affected the sows' body chemistry (US Department of Agriculture); beagles have been injected with plutonium (Harvard University); and monkeys' fingers have been amputated to see how the brain perceives parts of the body (University of California, San Francisco).6\n\nIt is difficult to get across how much suffering is caused to animals by experimentation in this short chapter; what I have described above is the tip of an iceberg. One study from 1986 estimated that the number of animals used in experiments in the US alone was around 17 to 22 million each year.7 The number used around the world will be many times more.\n\nWe often view animals as objects there to stave off our boredom, for entertainment or company.\n\nAn obvious culprit for this kind of abuse is the circus. Large animals are kept in cramped conditions. A lion, for example, has a range of up to 156 square miles in the wild but will spend much of its circus life in a cramped transport container.8 Elephants are used to interacting with around 250 other elephants, but will be consigned to life with maybe one other of its own species. To get animals to perform, trainers inflict pain with whips or electric prods and, as a result of all this stress, circus animals often end up with mental illnesses.9\n\nMarine parks create similar hostile living spaces for animals. A dolphin will naturally swim for 25 miles a day but in the park may be kept in a tank as small as 24 feet square by 6 feet deep.\n\nZoos similarly have inadequate living spaces. A polar bear, for instance, is used to a natural range of 20 – 30,000 square kilometres, but in a zoo will live in a cramped pen in a climate which may cause it to overheat. A 1985 UK study found that 60 percent of polar bears in captivity were psychotic.10\n\nThe world of sport produces much suffering for animals. In horse and dog racing, animals are consigned to stables or kennels for much of their lives. Greyhounds are kept in crates measuring 3 feet square for up to 22 hours per day.11 Fifty-five percent of racehorses suffer from bleeding legs and one hundred percent of racehorses have ulcerated stomachs.12 Racehorses which are too slow to race are destroyed and turned into human and pet food.13 Every year in the US 20,000 greyhounds are destroyed, and in the UK, the figure is 10,000 per year.14,15\n\nYou might assume that companion animals are better cared for than those exploited for profit, but this is not always the case. Animals which we are supposed to love, for example dogs and birds, are often mutilated, having ears, tails and wings cropped without anaesthetic. When we tire of our pets, they may be discarded. In the US, 20-30 million cats and dogs are destroyed each year after being abandoned [ No Nonsense Guide p.64]\n\nMost pure bred pets have acquired disorders which are caused by inbreeding, including heart and organ weakness, aggression and bad joints and bones. A third of King Charles Spaniels have syringomyelia, a disorder where the brain is too large for the skull, resulting in permanent severe headaches. Golden retrievers are prone to cancer; boxers often get heart disease and epilepsy. Flat-faced pugs have difficulty breathing; bulldogs are so deformed that they require help with breeding and giving birth. If you watch a dog show what you are seeing is a series of animals bred to be mutants, purely for the entertainment of their owners.\n\nSimilar cruel breeding goes on with other species, such as some goldfish which are bred to have bulging eyes.\n\nExotic pets are still often taken from the wild causing local extinction of some species.16 It is estimated that for every animal taken live from the wild, ten others are killed in the attempt.17\n\nAnimals are exploited in the world of fashion.\n\nFur, whether from farmed or trapped animals, has had a revival in recent years. The campaign group People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA) estimates that 30 million animals from fur farms are slaughtered every year.18 Fur is still sometimes obtained from leg traps, of which the EU failed to stop imports due to pressure from large corporations. A quarter of all animals trapped in leg traps are so desperate to escape that they will chew off their own foot. Most animals in these traps die slowly from blood loss, infection or starvation. Traps take, on average, 15 hours to check, which means 15 hours of terror and pain for the animal which is caught.19 Those that are found alive are often killed by clubbing or kicking in order to preserve the quality of the fur.20\n\nTrapping is indiscriminate and around two thirds of all animals trapped are not the target species.21 In the US 4-6 million of these 'trash' animals are caught each year, and may include pets or endangered species. Dogs and bald eagles have been caught in such traps\n\nIf all this seems like a surprising amount of unnecessary suffering, it is eclipsed by the suffering of animals which we use for food.\n\nExcluding fish, an estimated 25 billion animals are killed for food around the world each year.22 Not only do they die, they suffer too.\n\nWith the rise of factory farming, conditions for food animals have deteriorated for the sake of increased profit margins. Factory farm conditions are so cramped and dirty that diseases in the animals are rife and many are kept constantly dosed up with antibiotics to stave off illness.23 Half of the dairy cows in the US are kept permanently indoors, a practice which is spreading in other countries.24 In the UK, 2.7 million turkeys die of disease in their sheds each year, before they get to slaughter.25 Seventy percent of pigs arrive at US slaughterhouses with pneumonia caused by high levels of ammonia in their poorly ventilated stalls.26\n\nAnimals are mutilated to meet our ends. Pigs have ears, tails and testicles removed, chicks are de-beaked and beef cattle have their horns removed, all without anaesthetic.\n\nThe mentality of the meat producers displays a lack of compassion, as _Hog Farm Management_ put it, \"Forget the pig as an animal. Treat it just like a machine in a factory. Schedule treatments like you would lubrication. Breeding season is the first step in the production line. And marketing like the delivery of finished goods.\"27\n\nChickens are bred to have abnormally large breasts, but their skeletons are weak, and the extra weight causes many to break limbs.28\n\nBeef cattle, which are naturally herbivores, are 'finished' with high protein diets which may include animal remains and manure. Some countries allow the cattle to be fed growth hormones, so they put on extra weight and fetch higher prices at market. Pigs may be prevented from moving, in cramped pens so they gain more weight.29\n\nVeal calves are fed iron-deficient feed which gives them constant diarrhoea, and kept in crates to limit their movement, in order to create pale meat that will fetch a high price.\n\nSome countries produce foie gras pâté which is made by force feeding ducks and geese by inserting a metal pipe down their throats and pumping in food. This causes the animals' livers to grow abnormally large, which are then used to manufacture the pâté.\n\nDairy cows are given hormones which make them produce ten times the amount of milk which they would naturally.30\n\nMale chicks are killed as soon as they hatch, as they will not produce eggs. Their remains are fed to the egg-producing females. As a battery hen farm has so many hens, it is difficult to manage all the livestock, and as a result there are many dead hens in the cages. In America, farmers use 'forced moulting', whereby they starve their hens for 6-10 days. This increases egg yield by about 10 percent, but around 10 percent of hens will die in the process. At the slaughterhouse, hens are hung upside down and in some countries stunned. But stunning does not always work and many will go to their deaths fully conscious. Some countries, including the US and Australia do not stun their poultry.31\n\nAs many as 5 percent of animals fail to be stunned properly before slaughter and are skinned or disassembled fully conscious, in agony, surrounded by blood, offal and the screams of other animals. This happens to millions of animals each year.32 Throughput is so fast at the slaughterhouse that workers struggle to maintain quality standards. In interviews, some workers said they would beat, strangle, dismember and boil animals alive. Some admitted to torturing animals to death in anger or \"just for sport.\"33\n\nTransport to the slaughterhouse creates stress and suffering for the animals. In Canada, 3.5 million animals arrive at the slaughterhouse dead or dying from poor transport conditions.34\n\nIn fishing, around 26 billion kilograms of sea-life including birds, turtles and dolphins are unintentionally caught each year in nets.35 They are thrown back into the sea injured, dead or dying.\n\nIn fish farms, fish are fed growth hormones and antibiotics in crowded conditions which often cause injury to the animals. They are fed on other wild fish; it requires 2.5 kg of wild fish to grow 0.5 kg of farmed fish.36\n\nFish have no welfare standards for their slaughter; they are not stunned, and will die by being slowly suffocated and crushed by the weight of other fish.\n\nMeat production is also bad for the environment and a very inefficient way of getting food from the land. Rearing cattle provides us with only one kilogram of beef for every 13 kilograms of grain which we feed them. For pigs, the ratio is 6 kilograms of grain for every kilogram of pork.37\n\nLivestock farming creates 18 percent of the world's greenhouse gases (as CO2 equivalent), largely as methane produced from livestock faeces and as a product of rumination.38\n\nThere is a human cost to meat eating too. Eating red meat has been found to increase the risk of cancers, cardio-vascular diseases, hypertension and arthritis.39 A report in _The Lancet_ concluded that a change to a vegetarian or vegan diet can have substantial health benefits.40\n\nThis is a lot of suffering which we are looking at and, just as in our previous chapters, all this suffering is ultimately caused by processes which go on in the minds of humans. If we are to conclude that this animal suffering is unsatisfactory, then what we are looking at _has_ to be a mental health issue for the humans who are using and abusing animals.\n\n##  Narcissism and Psychopathy\n\nThe murder and torture of animals to meet human wants is many times worse than the Jewish Holocaust.\n\nHow does this statement make you feel? The philosopher Peter Singer made this comparison between the animal and Jewish Holocausts when he wrote that the animal holocaust was \"an eternal Treblinka.\"41 Comparisons such as this by animal rights activists have outraged many, who claim that the Jewish Holocaust was far more significant.42 Who is right?\n\nTo follow a path of perfect mental health, we have to be as objective and as close to reality as possible, and to do that, we can compare the death tolls between the Jewish and animal Holocausts. In the Jewish Holocaust around 6 million Jews were murdered. Animals used for food are killed at roughly the rate of 6 million every two hours, and that excludes fish and animals killed for experimentation, skins and other reasons.43 And, as we saw above, billions of animals suffer fear, anxiety and pain, just as the Jews suffered in the Holocaust. So looked at objectively, we have no choice but to agree that the animal Holocaust is many times worse than the Jewish Holocaust.\n\nBut still this claim rankles. It's an objective truth, so why did it cause such a reactive furore?\n\nThe answer is that we are again looking at the primary problem in the world: people who harm animals and defend the right to harm animals are ill. When it comes to animal rights, most people are suffering from narcissism and genetic psychopathy.\n\nObserve your own feelings as you read this next sentence: If you eat meat or consume other animal products then you are a psychopath.\n\nHow do you feel about this statement? Perhaps you thought things like, \"You're an idiot... what an arrogant arse... that's just your opinion... we have canine teeth... vegans are fascists... that's not what psychopath means... I care about animals... if they die humanely it's okay... well, what about carrots? You kill them!\" If you have thought things such as this, then what you are experiencing are defence mechanisms which are unconsciously designed to maintain the falsehood that it is morally justifiable to kill and torture animals. If this is you, then you are experiencing a symptom of genetic psychopathy. There is no escape from it: it is the truth.\n\nFrom our definition of psychopathy, all the forms of animal abuse fit the bill. In each case there is a fitness benefit and/or gratification for the actor (the human), and a clear fitness cost and/or suffering for the recipient (the animal). Also most of the time animal abuse is avoidable, so that means it fits our definition of psychopathic.\n\n##  Freudian Defence Mechanisms in Animal Abusers\n\nIt is the highly vocal attacks on animal rights activists which expose the psychopathy in so many people. A tour of some of the social network sites reveals the animated hatred which many meat-eaters hold towards animal advocates, vegetarians and vegans. One Facebook group revels in its seemingly anarchic title _Meat is Murder, Tasty Tasty Murder._ The underlying psychological message is, 'I am really dangerous and independent for going against something moral. Join my group and together we can form a power clique which can ridicule vegetarians and vegans, make them look foolish and so take the spotlight off our own lack of conscience.' Another group goes further in its conceited hatred, calling itself _Exterminate the Vegans._ One group called _I Eat Vegetarians_ heralds itself with the tag-line, \"For every animal you don't eat, I'm going to eat three.\" Apparently, an attempt to make a virtue out of murder.\n\nOne visitor of such a group boasted his lack of empathy towards animals, claiming \"I only eat pregnant cows. That way I can get two at once.\" Content on the groups is not always so profound: \"fuck vegetarians,\" said one user, \"there is a vegetarian option, fuck off : )\" said another.\n\nOne pro-meat Facebook user took pride in feeding a meat sausage to his vegetarian teacher, then, after the teacher enjoyed it, the Facebook user told him it was meat. Unsurprisingly the teacher was enraged, but the hoaxer said it was \"a great laugh.\" This willingness to inflict psychological suffering is recognised by psychiatrists as a common symptom of psychopathy.\n\nBut these are arguably the more aggressive animal abusers who go out of their way to bring suffering to both animals and animal advocates. This book is really about the Hugh Manitee's of our world, ordinary people who don't create groups to promote cruelty. How does Mr or Ms Ordinary behave?\n\nOne of the myths which meat eaters like to put around is that vegans and vegetarians are whiny, preachy, do-gooders who are always hassling meat eaters and generally making everyone feel miserable. From my experience this is the other way round. I am vegan, and I rarely bring up the issue of animal rights in my day to day living, but the issue does come up occasionally when my diet is referred to, for example when going out for a meal. It is then when the nature of the ordinary meat eater comes to the fore. Often they can't resist attacking the person with the moral high ground. One group of meat eaters from my family attacked me over a meal. During the argument I pointed out that there were only a few animals that people eat, but hundreds of different plants. \"But you don't eat all those do you?!\" retorted my opponent, and the group fell about laughing at how foolish they had made me look. Without realising what they were doing, they had formed a small psychopathic power clique, aimed at justifying their own lack of conscience.\n\nWhen another meat eating relative brought up the issue of veganism, he asked why I didn't eat meat. I answered honestly that it was both a matter of conscience and disgust. \"That's just your opinion!\" he opined. His was a false argument, merely a symptom of his psychopathy, using the defence mechanism of intellectualising to avoid a matter of conscience. When I pointed out that animals' opinions can be gauged by the fact that they run away from murderous humans, his argument was defeated and he faltered, looking miserable as he realised his shame was being exposed. As we saw previously, people will do or say pretty much anything to avoid the chance of experiencing shame, shame which will send them down that ladder of social esteem. As any narcissist must, these deniers of animal rights struggle desperately to maintain their false self. To maintain their status and defend their genetic survival, meat eaters _have_ to be in denial of the facts. In reality, meat eaters _are_ less conscientious than vegetarians and vegans; they are lower on the ladder of reality.\n\nAnother time, I declined some animal flesh as food in a pub. A meat-eater noticed, and when it came out that I was vegan, he took great pleasure in making me look foolish, almost shouting out: \"What do you have for dinner then? Lettuce sandwiches?!\" Again, it was his defence mechanism intended to hide the truth which was there inside his mind, the truth that eating meat is a cruel and selfish occupation. His body language, as he spoke, revealed the hidden agenda of his genes. He was over-loud for the situation, and turned to face the other members of the group; both gestures were aimed at rallying support to his side, to form the psychopathic power clique, creating a common enemy in me which could bring their group together and so make his army bigger to protect his selfish genes.\n\nI was ridiculed once by a man who said, \"Well, what about cabbages then? You kill them,\"  implying that I was immoral for killing a vegetable. Again it was a defence mechanism, this time projection, attempting to find wrong in the person bringing the moral truth. And again, as is common with psychopathy, the implication in his comment was essentially a lie. Vegetables cannot perceive fear or anxiety, as they do not have a brain equipped to do so. In addition, evolution, being a pretty efficient phenomenon, is unlikely to equip vegetables with pain . Pain is designed to make an animal move away from danger. Since plants can't move, there would be no benefit for evolution to give the facility of pain to plants.\n\nFinally, in my long list of experiences of meat-eaters in denial, when one woman I met in a pub found out I was vegan, she called me a \"freak.\" The word was designed to send me down the ladder of social esteem, so that relatively speaking she could be higher up, look more attractive and so pass on her genes. Her comment was to preserve her narcissistic false self. It was her genes which called me a freak. She asked me why I had made the choice, and again I said it was a matter of conscience, to which she replied, \"Oh, I just stuff mine down.\" She couldn't have better described Freud's notion of suppression had she tried. Again, it was her unconscious defence mechanism which was fighting off the inconvenient truth.\n\nThese defence mechanisms are designed to stave off the truth, but to be mentally healthy we have to receive the truth. A good example of how one psychopathic meat eater lied was found in my local paper. A piece on the letters page was from a man who said he had tried a vegetarian diet for a couple of days and found it very bland, so he gave up. He could have made his food more tasty if he had added some of these flavoursome ingredients: salt, sugar, pepper, vinegar, balsamic vinegar, tomato sauce, brown sauce, mustard, chilli sauce, apple sauce, mint sauce, cranberry sauce, lemon, garlic, chives, curry powder, cumin, turmeric, basil, dill, cloves, cinnamon, nutmeg, mace, onion, all spice, bay leaves, coriander, coffee, cocoa, fennel, ginger, horseradish, marjoram, oregano, paprika, rosemary, sage, star anise, thyme or vanilla. The objective truth is that almost all of the most interesting flavours available to us are not only vegetarian – _they are vegan!_ So the man complaining about the vegetarian diet was simply lying – the symptom of the psychopath. He needed therapy to bring his mental map closer to reality.\n\n## Meat-Free Diets and Mental Growth\n\nPeople who abuse animals have a mental disorder. What they need is therapy to heal their psychopathy. But as we know, psychopathy is the most resistant disorder to the therapeutic process. It follows that such people are unlikely to be convinced to change their selfish ways: they need therapy, but they resist. But there are a minority of people who _are_ receptive to the truth when it comes to animal rights. Psychotherapy is a process of continual, steady growth, and this is illustrated by the eating habits of a small section of the population: those who give up eating meat.\n\nMy own personal growth regarding animals has shifted me from one extreme to the other. I was raised a regular meat-eater, which I enjoyed for about 23 years. I also abused animals. When I was a young boy, I recall pulling the legs off a spider. I remember a queasy feeling when I looked down at the poor animal suffering and dying. But I carried on being cruel. I was encouraged to use an air rifle, and I ended up shooting a bird. Again I had a faint feeling that the dead bird was unpleasant to see. And I used to go fishing. I recall throwing fish back into the river after I had mutilated their mouths, and I watched sickened while they floated and twitched, drifting slowly away. In my teens, when I should have known better (and to my great shame), I blew up a frog with a home-made bomb. Its remains were spread in little pieces around the garden. I am now aware that early animal abuse is a common sign that a person may grow to become a clinical psychopath, but I am confident I have averted that psychological disaster. (Thank God !)\n\nAs I grew older, I thought more about animals. I thought about the strange contradiction that people would be disgusted if they saw a dead animal on the road side, but would be happy to put parts of a corpse in their mouths and swallow it. I eventually managed to de-condition myself; removing the faulty mental wiring that society had put in my head, that made me think killing and eating animals was acceptable.\n\nBut as with psychotherapy, the process of growth was steady and took me many years. I gave up eating meat, but for a few years after that I continued to eat fish (which is meat!) People call this a demi-vegetarian diet. Somehow fish didn't seem quite so close to me, not cute and furry like a land mammal. Added to that I knew other people continued to eat fish after giving up other meat, so I allowed them to influence my behaviour. Unconsciously I was making myself a part of a psychopathic clique in an attempt to justify my own lack of conscience towards fish. But I continued to think about the way fish die, being crushed and suffocated. It wasn't a pleasant thought, and the truth continued to invade my mind. So I then left out the fish too, and became a regular vegetarian. The last animal I ate was a prawn; it was bland and disappointing.\n\nThe shift from vegetarian to vegan requires a little more therapeutic work being done on the psyche. It is very clear that you can't get meat unless you kill an animal, but eggs and dairy seemed, in my naivety, to be less harmful. I read information and I listened to people, and this provided the therapy I needed to go further. It became clear that eggs and dairy do indeed cause death and suffering to animals. There also grew a disgust factor in eating chicken embryos, and milk from another species' breasts. But I liked eggs and cheese and so I was reluctant to become vegan - that was my selfish psychopathy; it was keeping me as a vegetarian and stopping me from growing. Reluctantly, I made the decision to accept the therapy: eighteen years after I started making changes to my diet, at the age of 42, I took the final step and went vegan.\n\nMy steps towards moral behaviour and better mental health are typical of many people who become first demi-vegetarians, then vegetarians and finally vegans. The reason I took so long to go all the way was because my mental map was slow to change, as they normally are in therapy. I learned as I grew older and thought more about the issue. As a teenage meat-eater, and animal abuser, I exhibited behaviour typical of the genetic psychopath, being dismissive of vegetarians as weirdo cranks. I thought vegans were as good as aliens, and dangerously extreme. Had someone told me I would end up as a vegan, I would have laughed in their face! But it goes to show that it _is_ possible to heal this form of psychopathy, _provided the patient wants to change._ Unfortunately, these kinds of changes are quite rare. Around 3 percent of British people are fully vegetarian, and around 0.3 percent are vegan.44,45 By this measure around 97 to 99.7 percent of people are psychopaths.\n\nThe shift to vegan through demi-vegetarian and vegetarian illustrates what psychologists call the _similarity principle_. This describes how people are more likely to be empathetic towards people who are similar to them. In experiments which demonstrate this effect, narcissists were paired up with other participants and during the course of the experiment, the narcissist was insulted by the other and instructed to deal out punishment to their partner by way of a painful noise.46 Repeated experiments have shown narcissists to be consistently more aggressive in this role. In further tests, half of the narcissists were told that they had something in common with their team mate, something like sharing the same rare kind of finger print or the same birthday. When narcissists thought they had something in common with their partner, they became no more aggressive than a non-narcissistic participant. They learned empathy through the similarity principle; the narcissism, a psychopathic trait, dissolved away.\n\nThis empathy towards others who are similar to us is evident in the phenomena of altruism and psychopathic selfishness. The _selfish gene theory_ , as expounded by Richard Dawkins, claims that when we help out our kin, we are not in fact being altruistic.47 What our genes are doing is selfishly preserving themselves by protecting other organisms which share the same genes. So if you were to help your child, you would be acting to preserve an animal with a large proportion of your own genes. So that would arguably be largely selfish and rather less altruistic. The most severe clinical psychopaths often don't even care for their own children – such people have approximately no empathy towards anybody at all.\n\nThe further removed from us our kin is, the fewer of our genes they possess, so a grandchild will have proportionally fewer common genes than a child, and ever distant relatives will have ever fewer of our own genes. It follows then, that when we act to assist a distant relative, we are being more truly altruistic than if we assist a close relative. But since we perceive distant relatives as less and less similar to ourselves, the similarity principle will fade away, and we will have ever less empathy towards those more removed from us. This can explain why we may be more altruistic towards our family than to other non-relatives. It is also an explanation for why racism may exist, since other races will have slightly different genes to those of our own race.\n\nSo to save a close relative is slightly selfish: to save a distant relative is more altruistic. This makes vegetarianism and veganism very interesting. What we should expect to see is less empathy towards animals than towards humans, since they are less similar to us; and this generally is the case, most people being happy to kill and eat animals, but people don't generally kill and eat other humans. Those people who choose not to eat animals are going against what their genes are telling them to do. To help an animal is less likely to preserve one's own genes, so to help animals an individual _has to be_ unusually empathetic. The way some people stop eating mammals but continue to eat fish supports the similarity principle; genetically mammals are more similar to us so we would expect to see some people demonstrating more empathy towards mammals than they do towards fish. But as some people grow, they become steadily more empathetic and eventually stop eating fish as well. The last animal I ate was that prawn, which I unconsciously perceived as more distant from me. In that case, as the prawn was not at all similar to me, the similarity principle was diminished, so I had less empathy towards the prawn, cared less for its survival, and so ate it.\n\nMental growth through therapy means expanding an individual's mental map, and with that growth comes an awareness of the suffering which is caused to animals used for food. This growth puts pressure on the individual ultimately to become a vegan. Therapists see increased empathy as another sign of mental growth, which again means that to be mentally healthy we need to grow towards veganism. And just as people who have put themselves through the pain of therapy are in the vast minority, so people who have grown to a vegan lifestyle are also in the great minority.\n\n## Animal Rights and the Psychopathy Continuum\n\nHow we treat animals illustrates another point about psychopathy: how it is a continuum rather than a discrete disorder. We have just looked at how genetic distance from us will determine how altruistic or psychopathic an act is. To kill your own child for example would demonstrate a severe lack of empathy and so would be extremely psychopathic. To kill and eat a goat may, if it were a matter of survival, be necessary and so less psychopathic. To kill lower species which don't have the ability to feel fear or anxiety would be less psychopathic still. So there has to be a continuum to this phenomenon since the genetic connection between the actor and the recipient form a continuum from very close to very distant.\n\nThere has to be a continuum when we look at the physical mechanics of saving an animal. If, say, you knew of an animal caught on a wire fence which was certain to die of thirst and hunger, you would be inclined to rescue it. If you knew it was 500 miles away, you may be forgiven for not going that far, in the hope that someone else might be closer to hand, or perhaps it would die by the time you arrived. If the distance was 30 miles, there might be a higher expectation that you would go to the animal's rescue. If it was only a mile, then you probably would go. And if you were next to it you could save it straight away. These are all degrees of moral action; a long distance means letting it die is less psychopathic, a closer distance and letting it die would be more psychopathic. There are still more extreme psychopaths than this. Some people wouldn't rescue such an animal even if it was just across the road. Worse psychopaths than that may be inclined to deliberately tie an animal up and leave it to die. Psychopathy is a continuum.\n\nPeople's willingness to rescue an animal at risk was demonstrated in a group of experiments carried out by a Canadian biologist Professor David Shepherd.48 In a series of 500 tests, Shepherd's team placed an artificial tortoise onto roads to see how drivers would react. They found that the majority of people, 94 percent, would ignore the tortoise, going around it and driving on. A small minority, 3 percent, would stop and get out of their vehicles to move the tortoise before carrying on. But chillingly, the final 3 percent would deliberately drive towards the tortoise to run it over. It shows us that active altruists are in a small minority, as are the most sadistic psychopaths. But the majority of people, 94 percent, are what we could call passive psychopaths, leaving the tortoise quite likely to be run over by the next vehicle. The continuum of psychopathy, in this case, forms a bell-shaped curve. We found a similar pattern when we looked at Milgram's electric shock experiment. In terms of genetic psychopathy, not rescuing the tortoise leads to a fitness cost for the tortoise in the increased risk of being run over, and a fitness benefit for the driver who conserves energy by not stopping.\n\nAnother reason psychopathy is a continuum, illustrated by animal rights, has to do with conscious awareness. When I was a young child, I didn't really understand that the grey rectangles of meat I ate were obtained by torturing and killing animals. Back then my mental map was less developed, so I could have been forgiven for continuing to eat meat. Similarly, when I pulled the legs off a spider, I didn't fully comprehend it may feel pain and would die. But now my mental map has grown sufficiently so that I am consciously aware that meat production and pulling the legs off spiders cause suffering. If I did those things now, I would be more guilty, and so more psychopathic. A person's mental map grows in increments in the process of modelling reality. And these steps towards a comprehensive and accurate map will generate a psychopathic continuum. This is relevant to the growth of vegetarians towards veganism. The links between dairy and egg production and the death and suffering of animals are not as obvious as the link between animal death and meat. So vegetarians may still be moral people even though consuming these products causes suffering, for the reason that their mental maps are relatively undeveloped, and consequently there is less guilt involved. It takes a little therapy to explain to a person how these products cause suffering to animals. But as that therapy is given, the mental map of the vegetarian grows and sometimes they grow to become vegan. Paradoxically, psychopathy can increase during the course of therapy if a person learns moral truths but decides not to act on them. If meat eaters continue to consume animals after they have been educated, they will be more psychopathic if they continue to eat meat afterwards. It is similar to what Christ meant when he said \"Forgive them Lord, for they know not what they do.\" When our mental map _knows_ that what we are doing is causing suffering, then the act becomes more psychopathic.\n\nSo the psychopathic continuum can be generated by genetic closeness, physical proximity and the degree of conscious awareness.\n\n## Good and Bad and Animal Abuse\n\nThe animal rights activist and professor of psychology Melanie Joy, looked into the psychological forces driving people to eat meat and concluded that, in general, people care about animals.49 This is in stark contrast to my claim that when it comes to animals, the vast majority of people are psychopaths. Why did we differ so hugely on the matter? Are those who abuse animals good people or bad?\n\nWhen Joy drew her conclusion that most people are good, she was looking at the way in which meat eaters use the unconscious defence mechanisms to avoid seeing the uncomfortable truth that they are harming animals. She interpreted that as a good sign, that underneath the outward abuse of animals, the person really doesn't want to cause suffering and death. So she concluded such people are caring. To me it looks different. Many meat eaters are deliberately hiding the truth because they get pleasure out of eating animal products, pleasure which mostly they could easily do without. It seems to me to be the opposite way round: that hiding the truth in this way is a selfish and therefore 'bad' act. It is accepted practice that mental health must be judged on the reality of the _action_ , not on whether or not a person _feels_ compassion. Assessing meat eaters in this clinical fashion means that there must be psychopathic 'badness' in those who eat meat.\n\nWhen we touch on the idea of goodness or badness in people we generate a lot of anger: the label _bad_ is so intimately attached to the shame response an the ladder of social esteem. And if I go further and say meat eaters are all bad, then there will be little benefit from it. The shame response will be ignited, and a violent reaction against the moral truth of veganism will result.\n\nThe answer to this conundrum is that meat eaters or vegans are neither good nor bad. As we saw previously, there is normally good and bad coexisting in each individual. To say a person is either good or bad is a generalisation as it isn't the whole truth. As we saw when we looked at shame, it is necessary to criticise the action rather than the whole person. It is the _act_ of eating animals which (if avoidable) is a bad act, but meat eaters can at other times do good deeds. Conversely there are many vegetarians and vegans who do bad things. Think of it like this: If there was a person who was a brilliant mathematician and, at the same time, a lousy musician, it wouldn't seem strange at all. People, through their learning experiences, grow to map out different aspects of life. This mathematician has an expansive and accurate part of their mental map when it comes to numbers, but the part of their mental map which deals with music has never been developed. This is how it is with animal rights. There are many messages from society as we grow that tell us to be kind to other people, and consequently we may grow up being kind. But since vegetarianism is such a minority pastime, few people have that part of their mental map developed and so they grow up to eat meat, and think little of it. The two parts of the mental map coexist, creating a person who is good to people and bad to animals. To say the person is either _wholly_ good or bad would be wrong either way.\n\nHaving said all that, vegetarianism or veganism is a strong indicator of a more empathetic individual, and this has been validated by experiment. In one study, groups of vegetarians and vegans (who made their dietary choice for ethical reasons) and omnivores were examined using Magnetic Resonance Imaging (MRI) brain scans.50 They were shown images of human and animal suffering: mutilations, murdered people, human/animal threat, torture and wounds etc, as well as emotionally neutral images. The study found that compared to omnivores, vegetarians and vegans showed higher activity in empathy related brain areas when viewing pictures of suffering, be it human or animal. Furthermore, pictures of animal suffering recruited brain areas in the vegetarians and vegans which were not recruited in the omnivores The study suggests that vegetarians and vegans are more empathetic than omnivores to both animals and humans, but particularly to animals. And if they are more empathetic, that means they are less psychopathic (since a lack of empathy is a primary symptom of psychopathy).\n\nSo, if almost all people are psychopathic meat-eaters, and if psychopathy is so difficult to cure, is there any hope for converting the world population to a healthy vegan diet? The answer comes in the theory of social groups. We saw previously how people will alter their moral behaviour for better or worse to match the moral position of the group of which they are a part. Meat eating is a social _norm_ , the act is reinforced by fellow meat-eaters and by advertising and the media. The group then, at present, consists mainly of meat-eaters. That means the large proportion of people who have their moral behaviour influenced by the nature of the group will eat meat just because most of the group is already doing it. These wavering group members (which, as we saw have seen, experiments suggest are the majority), might well become vegetarian or vegan if the rest of the group were vegetarian or vegan. This was elegantly illustrated by one man I was debating with on Facebook, who was clearly in denial of the facts. He argued the case for eating animals by saying he would \"defer to the majority.\" Since most people in his country ate animals, he thought it justified him doing so as well. Had he been brought up in the Gujarat region of India, where around 80 percent of people are vegetarian, he would have followed the majority of the group and been a vegetarian as well. Clearly, adopting the morality of the group is an unsatisfactory and irrational way of going about things.\n\nThis puts animal rights activists in a difficult position. In order to influence people, they have to make the majority of the group vegetarians or vegans, to make it the norm, which will make the wavering members give up meat to become a part of the group. It is an awkward Catch 22.\n\nSince I first wrote this chapter I have considered the argument that animal use is a matter of education rather than selfishness. It is now clear to me that it is indeed a combination of education and degrees of selfishness – there is more than one cause. The psychological jargon for this situation is _overdetermined._\n\nThat evening Hugh sat in his room quietly going over Zab's new ideas on animal rights. He had been an enthusiastic meat eater all his life, and he enjoyed it. As he sat, his mind conjured up images of a juicy rare steak, he thought about bacon butties, and chicken tikka, and his mouth watered. This new look at meat didn't fit at all with his old self. He felt sadness at the prospect of giving up all that tasty food; he really didn't want to stop eating meat.\n\nHugh walked to the food synthesiser and set it to generate a sirloin steak and chips. It arrived in seconds and he took it to his table. He knew this meat was artificial, but even then he sat staring at it and the images he had seen that morning floated into his mind. He couldn't look at the steak without the thought of those animals being hung up by their legs, screaming, with blood spurting from their necks. The sickening feeling returned. He took the steak back and selected a chick pea curry instead.\n\nLater in the evening, he felt the need to talk. He headed for Dr Zab's room.\n\nZab was making notes for Hugh when he arrived.\n\n\"Oh hello Hugh, good to see you. What can I do for you?\" he said.\n\n\"I wanted to talk.\"\n\n\"Well, that's all right, that's what I'm here for. Do take a seat.\"\n\nHugh was trying to rationalise what he had learned. \"I don't want animals to suffer. But...\" he was going to defend himself, but hesitated, trying to work it out in his mind. \"But, the other half of me likes eating meat. It's difficult, I can't seem to win.\"\n\n\"Yes, I know. It can look like that. But, you know, a vegan diet is very tasty. There are thousands of vegetables you can eat, but really only a few animals.\"\n\n\"Right. Couldn't you give us all food synthesisers?\" Hugh had a stab at bargaining.\n\n\"I'm afraid that wouldn't be ethical. Your species has to make the change for itself.\"\n\n\"I'm not happy about it. But I want to do the right thing. I want to be a good person. Would I be good if I stopped eating meat?\" Hugh was looking for hope.\n\n\"Well, the word 'good' would have to encompass all that you do. As I said before, there is good and bad in all _Homo sapiens._ But giving up meat would certainly be a strong moral choice. It would be a positive step.\"\n\nHugh thought some more. \"And I'm thinking again about the global catastrophic disorder. So you are saying this killing of animals is a part of it?\"\n\n\"There is no doubt about it. These animal deaths are almost entirely avoidable and only serve to satisfy the selfish desires of your species. It's very clear.\" Zab tried to look encouraging.\n\n\"It's that selfish gene again isn't it?\"\n\n\"Yes it is.\"\n\n\"So it's what you called genetic psychopathy...\" Hugh was piecing together the jigsaw of truth.\n\n\"That's right.\"\n\n\"So... people who eat meat are... \" he paused as the truth became more challenging. \"... _genetic psychopaths?\"_\n\nZab paused as well. \"I'm afraid so. I realise how this looks. I know it's difficult.\"\n\n\"And they kill things, so that makes them _psychopathic murderers?!_ \"\n\nIn Hugh's heart he didn't really want to know the truth, but he had acquired the habit of challenging himself more and more.\n\nZab stopped for a moment, knowing how shocking the truth was for Hugh.\n\n\"Well, technically, some _are_ murderers, the rest are accomplices to murder.\"\n\nHugh was aghast. \"But that's nearly everyone! I mean, I don't think I even know a vegetarian. That means me and all my friends and family are psychopaths!\"\n\nZab couldn't deny it, so he gave a slight nod.\n\n\"Oh... my... God...\"\n\nZab weighed up the processes going on in Hugh's mind. He wasn't certain, but he thought it might be the right opportunity for a bit more truth. With a serious face, he tried the extra piece: \"Hugh, what you saw with those animals was _genocide_.\"\n\nZab let Hugh think.\n\n\"You were right,\" said Hugh after a while.\n\n\"How is that?\"\n\n\"It is a big issue.\"\n\nIn the notebook, Zab underlined the words 'big issue'.\n\nIn the morning, Hugh went to his view-screen. He replayed the scene from the Christmas meal. But now it looked very different. Now on the table the only thing he noticed was the absurdity of a dead body on a plate, killed in the name of Christ. He watched his family, but now he felt he was watching strange alien creatures, creatures which feasted on corpses like monsters from a horror movie. The thought repelled him. When he saw his daughter go to eat a piece of turkey he panicked and immediately switched the viewer off.\n\n\"Oh no...\" he whispered, \"...the children...\"\n\nThe links to share and discuss this book on Facebook and Twitter are at::\n\nwww.TheShrinkFromPlanetZob.com.\n\n# 15 Looking Deeper\n\nHugh sat having a relaxed session with Dr Zab.\n\n\"It's been a while,\" said Hugh. \"And I was wondering, well, just how you think it's all going. I mean I'm not going to rush the therapy, but I'd like to know.\"\n\n\"It's going well. In fact, we've already looked at most of the really difficult issues – the problems in your world.\"\n\n\"Yes, the GCD, I can see how big it is. That really blew my mind; it was such a learning curve. I couldn't have done it without you,\" said Hugh.\n\n\"Well, it is a team effort, and...\"\n\n\"And the GCD is this group of things: the mental illnesses, and wars, poverty and environmental damage, animal rights...\"\n\n\"Yes, and...\"\n\n\"And a lot of all those problems are caused by this selfish thing, psychopathy....\"\n\n\"Yes, and...\"\n\n\"And that psychopathy you think is genetic...\"\n\n\"Yes, and...\" Zab was struggling to get his words out.\n\n\"And, you know, the whole thing, looking at it now, I mean it was difficult, but now I feel like this is all... wrong...\"\n\n\"Okay, but...\"\n\n\"But it's not like I felt before, it's different...\"\n\n\"That's good. Why don't we...\"\n\n\"I mean I don't want to hit anyone any more, but this GCD has got to be fixed...\"\n\nZab tried an experimental \"So...\" but it didn't slow Hugh down.\n\n\"So we should fix it, you and me...\" said Hugh.\n\n\"Yes...\"\n\n\"Fix this genetic psychopathy thing. Then we're sorted aren't we?\" Hugh raised his hands up gesturing that the cure was as good as found.\n\n\"Well, it's not as straightforward as that,\" said Zab.\n\n\"But if we find the cause of the genetic psychopathy, we can change it and cure it, right?\"\n\n\"Well, that sounds all well and good in principle; if we look at the cause, perhaps we can find a cure. So it's important that, at the very least, we take a look. Which is what we did.\"\n\n\"You did?\"\n\n\"Yes, our research lab has been looking into your genetic origins, trying to understand, and we think we have found out what it's all about.\"\n\n\"Go on.\"\n\n\"Well, you see it has a lot to do with the apparent expansion of the universe,\" said Zab, in a matter-of-fact fashion.\n\n\"What?!\" Hugh was thrown once more, this time by a leap from psychiatry to cosmology.\n\nThe reader will be pleased to know that the most challenging parts of Hugh's therapy have now been looked at: all the moral issues where Hugh needed to take more responsibility for his world – Hugh's psychopathy impacting on relationships, war, poverty, the environment and animal rights.\n\nWe have looked at a lot of Big Problems so far, and in each case we have seen that the underlying cause is mental illness in the population at large, primarily genetic psychopathy. We need to cure the mental illness of the world, the GCD. But how? If the problem is largely genetic, what causes that genetic problem? Can we look deeper and find a cure?\n\nThink of a life form as a coin. If you drop a coin onto a road it will quite likely not land on heads or tails but land on its edge. Does this sound unlikely? Try it on a steep slope and you will find it tumbles randomly then often chooses to lift itself up onto its edge and roll down the slope. It is driven to do something highly improbable (land on its edge) by the fact that the road is falling away. Life does the same thing. The 'falling away' is provided by the expansion of the universe, and matter in the universe will expand to occupy the increase in space, moved by the four forces of the universe – gravity, electromagnetic and two nuclear forces. Just as a coin landing on its edge seems improbable but becomes quite probable, so the creation of life seems highly unlikely but happens nonetheless.\n\nThe coin rolls because rolling is a motion which is self repeating, enabling the coin to move more rapidly down the slope than it would if it tumbled randomly. At the dawn of evolution, particles were moving randomly and inefficiently, just as the coin initially tumbles. Eventually, some molecules found a way they could 'upright' themselves and create a mechanism which would take the molecules faster to their destination, rolling down the 'slope' of the expanding universe, driven by the four forces. And just as the coin rolls in a self-perpetuating fashion, those early life molecules, sometimes called _replicators_ , repeated their own actions, creating copies of themselves, copies which would take the molecules faster down the universe's slope. Those very early replicator molecules are thought to be the origins of DNA.1\n\nIf you were to go back in time where all the 'coins' of matter in the universe were rolled backward and up the universe's slope, they would come together in one explosive point, which has come to be called the Big Bang.\n\nWe can use this model of existence from the Big Bang to the present day to understand many aspects of human behaviour in the here and now. For example, how did the Big Bang lead to something so apparently unconnected as a person's tattoo? I saw once on the cover of a music magazine a picture of a British rock band, where the male members were showing off their skin, emblazoned with artistic tattoos. The caption to the picture was a quote from one of the men: \"You ain't a dude, till you're tattooed.\" What he meant by that was that he, because he had tattoos, was in some sense greater than people who lacked them. It makes us think immediately of the ladder of social esteem. He wanted people to look up to him in admiration. In reality of course, it takes very little skill, courage, talent or any other worthy quality to obtain a tattoo. You pay some money, sit still for a while and it's done. The tattooed rock musician wasn't high up on the ladder of reality, so he decided to manipulate people on the illusory ladder of social esteem. And in the process of sending himself up the ladder, he was sending someone else down – a benefit for him and a cost for someone else. So his statement revealed the psychopathic nature of his tattoo. He got the tattoo in order to look sexy in order that he could pass on his genes. This allowed his upright 'genetic coin' to roll more quickly down the slope of the universe, running rapidly away from the push of the Big Bang.\n\nWe now have a very rough idea of the problem with humanity. We have seen the suffering in the world, and we found psychological causes for that. We saw that very often the psychological factors were caused by genetic psychopathy, powered by our selfish desire to pass on our genes. Now we have looked at how the forces of nature can power evolution, and the forces of nature, in turn, are motivated to work by an expanding universe. Follow that expansion back in time far enough and you come to the creation of the universe at the Big Bang.2\n\nSo now we have a train of cause and effect from the Big Bang through to suffering in the world. We have mapped out the problem; can we now find a position in the train of causation where we can have an influence to reduce suffering?\n\nOne position in the train of events is at the genetic level. It is not inconceivable that we could locate in our DNA the gene or genes which are responsible for our selfishness – our psychopathy. And we have the technology to modify such genes, creating new humans who would not have our psychopathic disposition. But it would mean genetic engineering on a global scale. Every human trying to have a child would need their sperm or eggs genetically modified to remove the psychopathy. It is theoretically possible, but highly unlikely to happen. I imagine there would be an enormous backlash against the idea of human genetic engineering. The psychopathic gene would fight viciously for its right to survive; that is, after all, what it is there for. In fact, removing the psychopathic gene could be dangerous. We need it for our survival, as destructive as it is. Removing it could leave us open to being consumed by the other life forms on our planet.\n\nSo genetic engineering is not an option. But following the train of causality backwards, can we reveal another possible cure? Unlikely. Genetic psychopathy is created by the four forces of nature and the expanding universe. To stop genetic psychopathy at this level would mean asking gravity to stop working or to stop the universe from expanding. It is essential to understand the complete cause of the problem of the GCD, but at the level of cosmology the understanding doesn't help to solve it.\n\nWe have now made a good assessment of the mental health of _Homo sapiens;_ we know what the problem is, we know the causes and we know at what level we need to create the solution: we need to tackle the problem at the psychological level. _Homo sapiens_ is mentally ill, so we need to provide therapy to all of humanity, _global psychotherapy_. The rest of this book will look at how we can bring therapy to the entire planet.\n\nHugh felt dizzy.\n\n\"Oh, I think my head is going to explode!\"\n\n\"It's okay, it's just your mental map expanding.\"\n\n\"So what you're saying is that to fix the GCD we need to fix the genetic psychopathy, which ultimately means we have to stop the universe expanding...\"\n\n\"Well, in a nutshell, yes.\"\n\n\"But we can't stop the universe expanding, so that means we can't fix the problem. We're knackered!\"\n\n\"I don't think we can accept it's unsolvable. We have to solve it. We need to look at every layer of the problem, then tackle it at the right level. And anyway, sometimes _Homo sapiens_ do change, we just have to find the way to change them more quickly. Both altruism and selfishness are good survival traits, but now, at the present level of your civilisation, the selfishness is rather redundant. The altruism can provide all life on your world with a healthy existence, with none of the unnecessary suffering. It's a better option for _Homo sapiens._ \"\n\n\"So we need to reduce selfishness and increase altruism. How do we do that?\"\n\n\"That's the question.\" Zab let Hugh lead the way. \"But you know Hugh, you are reaching a milestone with what you just said.\"\n\n\"I did?\" Hugh was so often taken aback by Zab.\n\n\"Yes, you have looked at yourself throughout your therapy. You recognised the need for change, you saw you were ill. You became receptive to change. You worked hard, you were courageous. And now you have anger.\"\n\n\"I STILL HAVE ANGER?! So I haven't got anywhere!\"\n\n\"No, this is good anger. When you were angry with me before, it was to preserve your own genes – it was selfish anger, a symptom of genetic psychopathy. But now, you are angry on behalf of the rest of your world – you are protecting the genes of _other_ _Homo sapiens_ and even the genes of other species. This is very healthy, it is altruistic anger. You have sublimated your unconscious worries. Congratulations!\"\n\nHugh smiled, and shook his head. Dr Zab's praise was unexpected, but it made a big impact on him. It felt uplifting, and all the better in the light of the hard work that Hugh knew he had done. All the while Hugh's mind became clearer, more focused. He found himself thinking in a different way. The old Hugh was confused, he used to worry and hate and struggle. Now his mind was taken over by imagination and hope. He found himself continually seeking out solutions for the problems which came his way.\n\nBack on Planet Zob...\n\nProfessor Dayv was playing ping-pong with an Altivistian aardvark when Dr Zab came up on the view-screen.\n\n\"Hello Zab, how's the world?\" asked Dayv.\n\n\"Hello Professor. The world is much the same, but our host is coming along well. He has accepted he has a problem, and we are moving into looking at ideas for a cure.\"\n\n\"Good, has it progressed to...\" Professor Dayv paused momentarily, \"... _spiritual?_ \"\n\n\"We are just getting there now Professor. I'm uncertain how he is going to take it.\"\n\n\"Yes, this planet has a complicated past. There is a lot to do. Will you be able to navigate it adequately?\"\n\n\"I can only hope so. It seems their religions may be linked to their genetic disorder; our labs are looking into this as we speak.\"\n\n\"Well good luck Zab. May the Universe be with you.\"\n\n\"And also with you sir.\"\n\nAnd with that, Professor Dayv returned to his game, scoring match point.\n\nThe links to share and discuss this book on Facebook and Twitter are at::\n\nwww.TheShrinkFromPlanetZob.com.\n\n# 16 Faith in Psychology\n\nDr Zab and Hugh were tackling the problem of genetic psychopathy.\n\n\"And the GCD is caused by the genetic psychopathy,\" Hugh was saying.\n\n\"That's correct again.\" Zab was watching Hugh lead the way.\n\n\"Well, you've been treating me, but I'm only one person. I mean, I know I can do something myself, and you are right, it's important that I do that. But the problem is going to carry on if everyone else stays the same. We need to get everyone to change, how do we do that?\"\n\n\"You're right Hugh, everyone does need to change. We have to find a way of doing that. Do you remember how you felt when I first pointed out that you had psychopathic behaviour?\"\n\nHugh fell silent for a moment. \"Of course. Yeah, it wasn't pleasant. I didn't like it, and you made me really angry.\"\n\n\"Well, that's the normal response. All the people who are damaging the environment, and causing poverty, going to war and harming animals, they are all going to feel really angry if we tell them they have genetic psychopathy. They fear the public humiliation – they don't want to slip down that ladder of social esteem, remember. It's a difficult problem to cure, as you know from your own therapy. Don't forget that many Earth psychotherapists think psychopathy, or personality disorder is not just difficult to cure, but some believe it may be impossible. And here there are around seven billion people with this disorder.\"\n\n\"Christ! If it's this difficult for one person in therapy, how on Earth are we going to cure so many billions of people?! I'm only getting well because you treated me against my will; surely you can't treat everyone like you have treated me. We don't have the time.\"\n\n\"Nor do we have the resources. It's a big problem. In fact it's the biggest problem for your planet: How do we get billions of people to 'be nice'?!\"\n\n\"Jesus!\" Hugh held his head in his hands.\n\n\"Well, that's one idea!\" said Zab, wryly.\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Jesus. And people like him.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"I think it would be a good idea at this point to look at other approaches to making the world a better place. A lot of your religions have tried to heal genetic psychopathy, so maybe it would be a good idea to look at how successful they were, before we carry on.\n\n\" _Religion?!_ I thought psychology was a science?\" Hugh was shocked that Zab seemed to be going spiritual on him.\n\n\"Yes, I am a scientist, but I am also spiritual. It's actually quite important.\"\n\nHugh gave Zab a quizzical look, and waited to hear where this new tangent was going to lead.\n\nThe realm of religion and spirituality is complex indeed, and as it has so much to do with human thoughts, feelings and behaviour, there is certain to be a large overlap with the discipline of psychology. We are going to do the work of Dr Zab and look at religion from the perspective of a completely rigorous psychiatrist.\n\n## Ancient Attempts to Cure Psychopathy\n\nThe concept of psychopathy is not new, it is ancient; it has simply been studied more recently by modern science and given a new name. In ancient history people must have behaved very similarly to how they do today; evolution has not had sufficient time to change us significantly from the times of say Christ, and we have already decided that psychopathy is probably a genetic trait which lingers on across the generations. In ancient times, psychopathy was known as _evil_. In those times people recognised that this problem of evil needed to be fixed and so they made attempts to solve it using primitive psychological methods. Back then, mental processes were viewed as spiritual, indeed some modern day psychologists see spiritual growth as the same thing as mental development, and psychotherapy as a spiritual process. In ancient times the methodologies for healing psychopathy or evil, became part of the religions.\n\nThe concept of evil and some of the methods for its cure are common to many faiths - Christianity, Judaism, Islam, Buddhism and others. Without law enforcement, people of ancient times would have needed a way of making people behave in a moral fashion, and so they invented supernatural concepts such as God and the afterlife. God, being omnipresent, could provide a police officer who would always be on the scene of any crime and, being omniscient, he would always know when we were being immoral in some way. Since he was also omnipotent, he was given the power to enforce his law against any who dare disobey his moral code. Another moral lever was invented by way of the idea of an afterlife in heaven or hell. In Buddhism a similar invented way to escape death and to be rewarded or punished for our deeds was provided in the form of reincarnation. So these systems provided us with a powerful (but imaginary) police force, a just and well informed judge and punishment or reward depending on the morality or lack thereof demonstrated in our lives. These kinds of religions were necessary in times when civilisations needed defending from the destructive force of genetic psychopathy. And to some extent these religions may have worked. Religions have certainly created wars, but it is more difficult to assess how much suffering they have reduced through their instructional moral codes.\n\nDid these religions actually ever cure psychopathy? Psychiatrists who study clinical psychopathy have claimed that the best option to heal the condition is to offer the psychopath more profitable rewards for moral behaviour.1 Technically this doesn't cure a person of psychopathy; the person is still acting in self interest. Punishments don't cure psychopathy, but they do reduce psychopathic behaviour by offering the psychopath a better option for being good, and these religious fixes are not technically cures for psychopathy. If a Catholic person, say, believes they will go to hell and burn for all eternity if they commit a sin, they may be motivated not to sin. But  since they are gaining from being morally decent, the selfish psychopathy in them can still exist. This suggests that atheists may often act more altruistically than strict believers. For the atheist there is no reward of heaven for a good act, or threat of hell for a sin, so when the atheist acts morally it is more likely to be for genuinely altruistic reasons than for a selfish desire to curry favour with God.\n\nReligions which offer a loving messiah or supernatural parent figure don't cure psychopathy for another reason. Psychopathy is a disorder of responsibility, or rather a lack of it. If a religion suggests that praying will get favours done by the deity, it presents a clear passing over of responsibility from the human to the god. So theistic religions such as Christianity may, for some people, actively encourage people to be psychopaths. For example, a religious man may pray to God to stop violent storms and, in so doing, she may absolve himself of responsibility, choosing instead to get a gas-guzzling SUV vehicle which produces more CO2, increasing the risks of CO2 driven climate change and subsequent storms. This form of psychopathic believer is evident from the number of wealthy so-called Christians that there are. I know a family of supposed Christians who live in a huge house full of expensive gadgets, with a Porsche on the drive and a light aircraft stored away in a hanger, yet because they go to Church and pray on a Sunday morning they deem themselves to be decent God-fearing Christian people. But Christ was quite clear about how we should give to the poor, saying, \"...it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.\" (Matthew 19:24).2 The money spent by that family on themselves could have gone to the poor and literally saved lives. They escaped responsibility because of their God and literally brought death to people living in poverty. The psychopathy of their prayers can be seen in the fitness benefit and gratification for themselves and the fitness cost and misery for the poor. In America there are more than 224 million Christians, which is around 85 percent of the population.3 We saw in our chapter on poverty how, if only the top 10 percent of American earners gave a modest portion of their money to the poor, there would be a massive reduction in world poverty. It follows that if all the American Christians were truly living the Christian message of giving to the poor, world poverty would almost certainly be eliminated. We have to conclude that those American Christians cannot be giving all that they can. Even when people identify themselves as religious, it does not necessarily cure them of their innate psychopathy. People ascribe to a religion even when they don't follow that religion _in reality_ (which is where we need to look when we consider the mental health of religious people) _._\n\nReligion can cause other instances of psychopathy. The Christian clergywoman who I mentioned in chapter 5, who excluded the man with the mental illness, told me that she wasn't a vegetarian because the Bible told her God meant us to eat animals. What she was referring to were the lines from Genesis 1:26 which say, \"And God said, Let us make man in our image, after our likeness: and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth.\" Conveniently for many religious people, this has been interpreted as God telling us we can use and abuse the Earth and all life for our own ends. Using life in this way would be a selfish act which would cause unnecessary suffering. As we saw previously, this kind of abuse of animals is narcissistic and psychopathic, so here we have psychopathy being actively endorsed by one interpretation of the Bible. (Although some more enlightened religious people interpret the verse as an instruction for us to be caring guardians of the Earth and all life.)\n\nSome people will be encouraged to continue with psychopathic acts by the promise that God forgives all sins if you ask him nicely . There will be people who unconsciously believe that they can go through their lives being selfish and psychopathic whilst hiding the secret intention to repent all their sins when they are close to death. That way they win twice: they get all the rewards of a selfish life in the here and now, plus the added reward of a pleasant after-life in heaven. As with all mental illnesses, there is a lack of reality in it. There probably is no afterlife and even if there was, an omniscient God who knows our every thought wouldn't be so easily duped.\n\nHere we can see arguments for why religion often does not heal psychopathy, and to some extent may even foster psychopathic behaviour. Studies have backed up this theory that religiosity does not lead to a more wholesome life. Writing for _The Journal of Religion and Society_ (2005), Gregory S. Paul made systematic comparisons between seventeen developed nations and concluded that \"higher rates of belief in and worship of a creator correlate with higher rates of homicide, juvenile and early mortality, STD infection rates, teen pregnancy and abortion in the prosperous democracies.\"\n\n## The Religious False Fix\n\nOne of the reasons people hold on to religions which are neither beneficial nor realistic is because of what I call the _religious false fix._ There is a kind of logic which supports possibly any religion suggesting that if we could convert everyone to that particular religion, there would be no divisions in belief and consequently no religious conflicts. It's true but it has a flaw. Most or possibly all religions, when compared to reality, fall down at some point. The only valid belief system has to be one which compares perfectly with reality. Since the supernatural realm does not reflect reality, all religions based on the supernatural have to be forms of mental illness. The religious false fix is, unlike other aspects of religion, fuelled not by psychopathy, but by more altruistic intents. Living alongside our dark nature is our good nature, the part which genuinely wants to reduce suffering in the world. That part of us earnestly desires to cure the world with a false religion, and so steadfastly stands by the religion in the face of clear evidence that it is irrational. The kindly part of our psyche sees a cure in faith, so that implies that anyone challenging that faith (an atheist perhaps) is, by implication, an enemy of the world's cure. Little wonder then that religious people often despise the atheists: both the psychopathic _and_ the altruistic parts of the believer see the atheists as the enemies. If they see atheists as enemies of the cure, then they incorrectly conclude that atheists must be evil. Which of course they are not, they are just the enemies of delusional beliefs.\n\n##  The Religious Defence Mechanism\n\nWe saw previously how the Freudian defence mechanisms can stave off anxiety, and religion is often used as a form of defence from anxieties. One aspect to the religious defence mechanism can be explained by looking at genetic evolution. It is an important survival trait to understand our environment, to map it out in our minds, so we can better navigate the world and survive in it. We abhor not knowing, and when we are in a confused state of unknowing we feel anxious and desperately seek out rules for how to behave, in order to survive. Religion fills this gap in our desire to understand. When we are told how to live by supposedly wise religious leaders, that anxiety is relieved, we feel relief and return again and again to the delusional leaders for more information fixes.\n\nEvolution has built into us a need for a parental figure who loves and cares for us, and in this dysfunctional world, such loving parents are not as common as they should be and many children suffer from a lack of real parental love. This kind of childhood trauma can damage the entirety of a person's life; even into adulthood, a past of abandonment and cruelty can leave deep psychological scars. We can have those scars made less painful if we can convince ourselves that there is a supernatural being who is there to give us the love we missed out on. It is another aspect to the religious defence mechanism: a self delusion which serves to protect an individual from the psychic pain of being unloved.\n\nLife, brought about by evolution, may seem to lack a reason and a purpose. This absurdity of existence can strike a frightening chord deep in our psyches, when we contemplate death and the possible meaninglessness of having lived. The religious defence mechanism cures this anxiety too, providing an apparent reason for living and an escape from the frightening abyss of death.\n\nIn the defence mechanism, we find an argument in favour of religion, as a means to provide comfort to those in need, and there is some evidence which suggests that religion can defend against stress related illnesses, possibly by offering a kind of placebo effect.4 As we saw in chapter 5, being a member of a religious group can provide much needed support for those in need, and particularly those suffering from mental illnesses (in the conventional sense).5\n\n## The Efficacy of Prayer\n\nIt is one thing for a religion to cure our mental anxieties by a subtle self-delusion, but it is when a delusional faith interacts with physical reality that problems often result. One area where faiths fall down is when it comes to the efficacy of prayer to create physical solutions. In 2006 Dr Herbert Benson headed a study into the possible health benefits of prayers for sick hospital patients.6 The patients in the study were assigned randomly to either the experimental group, which received prayers for their recovery, or to the control group which received no prayers. In proper scientific fashion, this was a double blind study – none of the doctors, care-givers or patients knew which of the groups the patients belonged to. The prayer givers were only told the first names and initial letters of the surnames of the patients in the experimental group; this was presumably to allow God to pinpoint which bed each patient was in. A hefty US $2.4 million was spent on the study which monitored 1,802 patients all of whom received coronary bypass surgery. The patients were divided into three groups: those who received prayers and didn't know it; those who received no prayers and didn't know it (the control group) and those who received prayers and did know it. To make the experiment consistent, all prayer givers were told to pray \"for a successful surgery, with a quick healthy recovery and no complications.\" The experiment found that there was no difference in the health of those patients who received prayers and didn't know it and those who received no prayers. Unfortunately for the experimenters and for some of the patients, the study did find that those who knew they were the beneficiaries of prayers suffered significantly more complications than those who did not receive prayers. The experiment proved conclusively that prayers don't work. It showed that belief in a God who answers prayers does not reflect reality: it is a delusion and is therefore a form of mental illness.\n\nPrayers can do no more than offer us a false hope. But often they will actively harm people and other life. I knew a fellow pupil whilst at school who was raised as a Methodist Christian. When he was 15 years old, whilst at home with his sister, his sister cut herself badly on some broken glass, and bled profusely. His immediate reaction was to kneel beside his sister and pray. He would have been better to have engaged with reality and applied pressure to the wound. Fortunately, a neighbour came to the rescue, but the boy's deviation from reality, his mental illness, could have cost his sister's life. There are certain to be many others who have suffered and possibly died because people who could have helped in physical reality chose instead to pray to a god which  probably isn't there. Religion really does costs lives. Remember the Earth guidelines for sectioning a patient who _\"ought to be detained in the interests of [the patient's] own health or safety or with a view to the protection of other people\"._ If we were to carry this out to the letter we would be forced to section many, or perhaps all religious people.\n\nPrayer involves little effort, and as such, will appeal to the psychopath in us which prefers not to expend energy in helping others. Those who pray can maintain the appearance of being caring (their narcissistic false self), whilst in reality being psychopathically lazy.\n\n##  Religion and Psychosis\n\nI mentioned in chapter 5 that people ordinarily viewed as mentally ill (some of the people with psychosis) are made ill by religion. Chemicals in their brains seek out coincidences, which appear to be bizarrely unlikely even though in reality they are not. And then, because there is so much supernatural nonsense in our culture, the psychotic individual ascribes a supernatural explanation to the coincidences. In this way they may come to think that God is telling them things, for example to go out and kill people. The psychosis is elevated by religion from a biochemical problem to a paranormal delusion. This kind of psychotic coincidence-spotting is quite common amongst religious people, even in such a highly regarded mortal as Pope John Paul II. In 1981 Pope John Paul II was shot and wounded in a failed assassination attempt. The bullets narrowly missed his vital organs and his life was spared. He claimed that his life had been saved by the Madonna of Fatima (a previous apparition of the Virgin Mary). The Pope was probably psychotic, taking a seemingly unlikely event and awarding it a supernatural explanation. Interestingly, in November 1939 when Adolf Hitler was visiting Munich, he was caused to change his schedule and as a consequence narrowly avoided an assassination attempt. Just like the Pope, he claimed a divine hand had spared his life: \"The fact that I left the Bürgerbräukeller earlier than usual is a corroboration of Providence's [God's] intention to let me reach my goal.\"7 Both Pope John Paul II and Adolf Hitler were suffering from the same kind of psychotic mental illness. How many millions of other people have been given religious psychosis in a similar fashion?\n\n##  Religious Power Cliques\n\nI mentioned that many people are calling themselves Christian but not living the Christian ethos of giving to the poor. Similarly there are many other people who identify with their religion but who do not adopt all the moral codes of their particular faith. I have met Hindu's who eat meat, including beef, Buddhists who also eat animals, Christians who make death threats against their enemies instead of turning the other cheek and Muslims who drink alcohol. One man I met said he was a Muslim but confessed, \"I'm not very good at it.\" If these religions really worked, the adherents would follow them to the moral letter and in so doing might cause less suffering in the world. But often they don't. Why then do they still maintain that they are religious? If we look at them with the completely objective eyes of an alien psychiatrist, we have to conclude that those people are not Hindus, Christians, Muslims or Buddhists. If they won't adopt their own religious codes, why don't they just 'fess up and admit they are not religious? What they are doing is telling a lie. When we spot a lie, it gives us a strong nudge to look around for psychopathy. The explanation for this behaviour lies in the theory of the psychopathic power clique.\n\nHow do we become religious? Most of the time, we are born into it; ordinarily, children will adopt the faith of their parents. Children have relatively small mental maps. Consequently they are programmed to develop their maps as quickly as possible, so they can navigate the world and be more likely to survive. The obvious people they will learn from are their parents, and if the parents are religious, the child will soak up their religion like a sponge. But children are also naive. Their undeveloped mental maps are as yet unaware that other people may well be deluded, unscrupulous or manipulative. So they readily absorb the falsehoods along with the truths, and in short order a delusional belief system is passed down a generation. Anybody taking an outside view of religion  can see that they are probably all contradictory: either only one religion is the right one or they are all wrong, as they all differ. It is obvious that people adopt religions mostly as an accident of birth: if born in India, they will likely become a Hindu; if Saudi Arabia then a Muslim; if America then probably a Christian. It is an arbitrary process without much in the way of rational planning. And if it is so arbitrary, why do religious people not see that? It is because there are pressures on them to belong to their religious power clique.\n\nWithout being conscious of it, many religious parents raise their children into their own religion for selfish reasons. We saw previously how power cliques rise from small family units, growing into tribes and eventually up to the size of countries. Religious power cliques are no different. When the parent brings the child up into  their own religion it is in order to recruit an extra member into the parent's army, so they can better fight off enemies and so protect their all important genes. Parents make their children religious partly for selfish reasons. But there is selfishness in the child too. The child needs protection by an army just as the adults do, so it will willingly become a member of the parent's religious power clique, in order to preserve the child's own genes. The religious family bond becomes very strong as both parties want to be in the clique. The pressure on the child to stay within their family's religion is so great that only one in twelve of them ever manages to escape from the religion into which they were brought up.8\n\nThe religious power clique is made stronger for those children who are forced to attend faith schools. In reality, children have no faith;  their minds are too young to understand big concepts like religion and they lack the power to choose a spiritual path for themselves. Richard Dawkins in _The God Delusion_ , says that we should be appalled when we hear of a child being called Christian or Muslim or whatever as it is tantamount to child abuse. I agree.\n\nIt is worth comparing all this religious pressure for children to be in the power clique with the policy adopted by the Brights, a group of people who refute the supernatural realm in favour of a naturalistic world view. On their website they explicitly state, \"The decision to be a Bright must be the child's. Any youngster who is told she or he must, or should, be a Bright, can NOT be a Bright.\"9 If religions were to adopt this kind of freedom of thought for children they would probably soon dissolve away.\n\nInto adulthood, there are more mechanisms which reinforce the religious power clique. In many religions it is forbidden to 'marry out' with a person from a different faith. It is a rule which has no basis in reality, there being no actual differences between people of different faiths, but this dreamt up rule serves to bind tightly together the genetic army of the power clique. And of course, if a mixed faith marriage leads to children, there is often a vicious fight between the two factions to bring the children up into their own faith – a desperate attempt to add a few more recruits to the respective genetic army.\n\nThen there is the rule that apostates (those who try to leave the faith) are at best to be shunned but at worst murdered (as some Muslims would have it for those leaving Islam). There are many apostates from Islam who are living in hiding, terrified of violent reprisals from family or oppressive religious governments. Some Islamic governments, such as that of Saudi Arabia, have executed people for this 'crime'. The kind of fear which this punishment generates must be keeping a lot of people inside the religious power cliques. They may want to leave, but it is just too dangerous. People who do eventually escape are often psychologically damaged and may require therapy to help them recover. The psychiatrist and author, M Scott-Peck, summed this up when he wrote, \"It is indeed tempting for psychiatrists to view themselves as knights of modern science locked in noble contact with the destructive forces of ancient religious superstition and irrational but authoritarian dogma. And the fact of the matter is that psychotherapists must spend enormous amounts of time and effort in the struggle to liberate their patients' minds from outmoded religious ideas and concepts that are clearly destructive.\"10\n\nTo maintain the clique, people have to be discouraged from questioning the validity of the rules of the religion; if people can't be united in believing particular falsehoods, the clique will fall apart. So it was that heresy and blasphemy were made into crimes. Even today, in Pakistan, blasphemy is a crime punishable by death. The sole purpose of this 'crime' is not to take care of God (who, being omnipotent, could presumably punish people himself), it is to keep the power clique strong, to preserve the genes of those inside the clique. It was DNA which made the Pakistani law against blasphemy.\n\nThe famed Ten Commandments from Judaism also aim to preserve the power clique. The commandment which states that there should be no other gods but the Jewish God serves to hold the clique together. It is another lie, as there are no gods, be they Jewish or otherwise. The other commandment that \"Thou shalt not commit murder,\" sounds reasonable enough, but its original meaning has been shown to be that Jews should not murder Jews, but other people outside the clique were in some sense lesser mortals, and were fair game.11 It is another rule invented to hold the clique together.\n\nIn Islam, idolatry is punishable by beheading, again, a terrifying punishment which serves to stop people straying outside the power clique.\n\nBelieving religious rules which are often astonishingly irrational _has_ to be encouraged by the clique. People need to be made to believe falsehoods, and so it is that the concept of _faith_ has been hailed as a virtue by many religions. Faith is the systematic creation of delusion. Religious people need to be delusional for the clique to hold together. Occasionally for some adherent, common sense may creep in and they may question one or other of the supernatural lies of their religion. Doubting Thomas's like this are taking a natural step towards the truth – towards sanity. But if such a step towards sanity happens, the religious leaders must bring back the mental illness, and the individual is told they need 'faith' in order to believe the lies. If people become sane, the religious power clique will fall apart; people _have_ to be mentally ill for religious power cliques to hold together.\n\nPeople outside the group are deemed to be unholy, ignorant infidels, not worth saving. It is here where the religious war takes place, a war which generates peace within the power clique. If the infidels can be portrayed as the evil ones, the common enemy is created which serves to make stronger the bonds within the religious clique; the external war with the infidel creates internal peace within the clique. This is where the psychopathy resides, there being a fitness benefit for those within the clique, and a fitness cost for those outside. This demonising of those who don't share the faith is actively encouraged. Sometimes the common enemies used to hold the group together are gay people. If they can be persecuted by the religion for their harmless lifestyle, it can generate peace for those inside the clique. Again, it's a psychopathic effect, the fitness cost and suffering is for the gays, the fitness benefit by way of maintaining a large genetic army is for those inside the power clique.\n\nIt shouldn't be surprising then that religions often follow the same geographical borders as countries. People join the power clique where they live,  as they _have_ to live peacefully with their direct neighbours, so it makes sense to wage war only with distant peoples from other religions in other geographical areas.\n\nThe religious card is played by the warmongers. The German Nazi party, for example, made good use of the supposedly Christian German population. The belt buckles of the Nazi soldiers were famously inscribed with the words _Gott mit uns_ – God with us. The purpose there was to say loud and clear that 'if you are Christian, then we are your army, join us and help crush that common enemy, the Jew'. Hitler played the religion card often in strengthening the bonds of his psychopathic power clique. President George W. Bush played the same card when he invaded Iraq in 2003, claiming that God told him to do it.12 These are lies of course, but sadly many people will believe them and add their weight to the army of the growing religious clique.\n\nIn their thirst for genetic power, the religious leaders of the power cliques routinely lie to the masses in order to bring them into their own clique. For example, we now have the common idea that Christ was a divine spirit, sent by God, who miraculously rose from the dead to forgive our sins, in some weird inexplicable way. In fact, there is no good historical evidence that Jesus ever considered himself to be divine; the divine aspect to his story was tacked on afterwards to meet with the prophecies of the coming of the Messiah. Those religious leaders were telling lies, in order to control the population and presumably to bring them into the power clique. Similarly Jesus' mother Mary was not a virgin. This idea resulted from a mistranslation of the Bible from the Hebrew for young woman into the Greek for virgin.13 But the supernatural mystique of a virgin birth added to the wonder of Christ's story so it was adopted as part of the faith.\n\nIt seems that often the religious leaders don't fully believe the religion themselves. If God is all powerful, and if infidels need to be punished, then why not let God do the punishing himself? The answer is because there _is_ no God to punish people outside the power clique. The bottom line is, religious people are so intent on keeping their power clique going, that they will ignore their own supernatural claims so they can physically wage war on the out-groups themselves. If they let God maintain the clique, it would fall apart, because there is no God to hold it together.\n\nIn reality, there is nothing that changes when a person joins a religion. In order to make joining a religion appear more like a real event, faith groups invent rituals – physical procedures  which give the impression that something supernatural has happened. Baptism, for example, is nothing more than getting a little wet while someone else utters a few words –  that's in physical reality, where mental health resides. But people can be fooled by the ritual into thinking they are now in the religion. They are not, the ritual is a subtle form of lie designed to swell the ranks of the religious power clique.\n\nSo, the reason why people ascribe to a religion, but often don't follow all of their religion's moral code is because they are too selfish to honour the moral commitments, whilst at the same time they want the security and power that they gain from being inside their religious clique. They get the benefit of being in the clique without the work of responsibility; it is a selfish and psychopathic phenomenon.\n\n## Religions Kill\n\nBy the by; religion kills people. And that's not just the obvious millions who have died as a result of religious wars. People spend a lot of money on their religions, building places of worship, buying irrational literature and trinkets for rituals and paying to visit supposed holy places and people. Take cathedrals for instance. One cathedral, built at Coventry in the UK in 1962, cost around £23 million to construct (by 2011 values). The value of a life saved by easing poverty was put at around £195 in chapter 9.14 That means that the money spent on that one cathedral could have been used to save the lives of around 113,000 people. Not really very Christian. Multiply that up by all the religious buildings in the world and the lives which are going to be lost due to religion will be many times more, in the millions. A similar calculation can be done with the costs of Pope Benedict XVI's visit to the UK in 2010, estimated to total £12 million (at 2010 values and excluding police and security costs).15 That equates to around 60,000 people who are going to die because religion got the money, not the people in poverty. Was the Pope following Christ's teaching that we should take care of the poor? No, he wasn't.\n\nMental health, as always, resides in reality. And the reality is that the people supporting such religious buildings and papal visits are deluded, and are selfishly guarding their entrance to heaven. That is where the benefit is (though it isn't real): the cost is for the poor and needy of the world.\n\n## More Reasons Why Religions Keep Going\n\nThere are other hidden reasons which are holding religions together which have to do with social esteem. If a person has, for years, been extolling the virtues of a religious mental illness, for example supporting creationism which holds that the Earth is a few thousand years old, they will face a mighty climb-down if they eventually admit they were wrong. The fear of looking foolish and slipping down the ladder of social esteem is so great that many people will choose to maintain their religious delusion rather than risk looking silly by admitting the truth. Again it is the selfish gene at work. They want to look wise and sexy to pass on their genes, so will not publicly admit they have a religious mental illness.\n\nThe religious leaders gain social esteem from maintaining their religion. Being looked up to as a wise elder is a powerful drug, which I suspect many religious leaders absorb like heroin. With the position as religious leader comes the implicit right to be higher up on the ladder of social esteem. The leaders' desire to pass on their genes will make them revel in that position, and cultivate it. No doubt they have discovered that if they can come up with ever more bizarre supernatural stories, they can wow their naive, attentive audience who unsurprisingly can't see the supernatural forces for themselves. The supernatural aspect is a lie designed to control the group and the leaders are leading partly for their own selfish reasons.\n\nFinally, another reason why religion survives in the modern day is that people are naive. People who have not studied psychiatry are normally quite unaware of how delusional and selfish most of the world's population is. If people were educated in the ways of psychiatry, they might see through the religious illness more easily, see the selfishness in the cliques, the selfishness of the leaders and the insanity of the supernatural delusions. Then they might choose to leave religion behind and grow towards the truth.\n\n## A Way Forward\n\nIf religion is so harmful, are we to remove it from our planet in order to heal the mental illnesses of our world? What we have just looked at are only the bad, and often psychopathic aspects of religion, but we should remember that often people join or invite people to join a religion because they see it as a way of making the world a better place. Religious people are not all bad: the good and the bad coexist in the same person. Christianity has helped millions of people suffering from poverty, Buddhism has saved the lives of millions of animals, and Islam may have saved many people from the harmful effects of alcohol abuse. The solution is not a simple matter of removing religion totally, rather it needs adjusting a little. People want, and to some extent need, some kind of guidance, and to heal the world we might meet that need and introduce a surrogate religion which could help people to navigate life. Such a code of living which fits in with therapeutic practise is _humanism_ (in America _secular humanism._ ) Humanists endeavour to live lives which are mentally healthy in two important respects. Firstly, in rejecting supernatural forces, the humanist is free from the delusions which are so common in religions. Secondly, humanists have a strong moral code which is not dependent on any instruction from a supposed deity. Humanists can gauge whether an action is good or bad by considering whether that action will improve or damage the wellbeing of humanity (many humanists also consider the wellbeing of other sentient animals in their moral reasoning). Good actions will naturally improve human wellbeing and reduce misery. So for example, humanists will not need God to tell them that visiting a recently bereaved friend would reduce their misery and so it would be deemed to be a good act.\n\nIn thinking about religion from the perspective of a therapist, we are forced to ask: w _hat is the purpose of therapy?_ Is it to bring a person's mind as close to perfection as possible – free of all delusions, anxieties and psychopathy? Or is it to make the person feel good? The religious defence mechanism presents a useful delusion. It is a deviation from reality, but it may serve to make the individual feel more content. Should a rigorous therapist such as Doctor Zab try to heal their clients out of the religious defence mechanism or allow them to remain deluded and relatively content? From the humanistic perspective, we are looking at the principle of human wellbeing, and this presents an important stumbling point. If some people believe in a supernatural deity it may improve their wellbeing by reducing anxiety, but that contradicts the humanist belief that there are no supernatural gods. A psychiatrist such as Dr Zab might manage this contradiction by allowing a glimpse of agnosticism. The fact is that nobody knows if there is an other-worldly God looking down on us or an afterlife for us to go to when we die. Even the most ardent atheists sometimes reluctantly admit this. In a campaign against the concept of God, atheists funded a bus advertisement which stopped short of saying there is no God with the words: \"There's probably no God, now stop worrying and enjoy your life.\"16 A small ray of agnosticism may be all that is required to provide people with freedom from anxiety related to death or other dire circumstances.\n\nBut religions are usually forms of mental illness and, as with war, the complexity of them makes them syndromes. From the point of view of a rigorous therapist like Dr Zab, many people do indeed require therapy to be cured of religion. They may need therapy, but again they will be reluctant to receive therapy. Religious people will cling to their faith rather than be healed out of it. One reason is that people fear not having a good mental map to navigate and so will not let go of their religious map even if it is inaccurate, avoiding the fear of an unfamiliar and disturbing secular life. Many religious people will keep their faith for selfish reasons. The ladder of social esteem plays a role here: changing from religious to humanistic will imply that the person has been foolish and deluded (and often psychopathic) and that will send them down the ladder. Rather than look foolish, people will continue to hold to their unrealistic religious beliefs.\n\nReligious people will maintain their beliefs when their religion provides them with a loving father figure, something which may have been absent from their Earthly lives. But the therapeutic process following humanistic values can provide for this requirement, the therapist providing the loving parental figure which the client has sought from their religion.\n\nBut whether a person is religious or not, one fundamental thing remains the same, and that is how to live. If God rewards a good moral life by providing a place in heaven, the solution is to live a good moral life. But if there is no heaven or hell, the solution remains the same. For the secular humanist, living a good moral life will lead to a higher quality of life in the here and now. Either way, the solution to life is to live with compassion and joy.\n\nA new, humanistic belief system needs to be brought to humanity on a huge scale. Bringing this wisdom will require work from many thousands of people; it needs to be a global movement which will replace the traditional religions. This movement will be built on truth, on rational allegiance to reality, and on good moral behaviour. What we require then to safeguard the future of our planet is humanistic global psychotherapy. All of humanity requires therapy.\n\nDr Zab and Hugh had taken a couple of months to explore the issues in Earth's religions. In the consulting room, Hugh was watching Zab write in the little black notebook. He had a moment of realisation.\n\n\"So,\" said Zab, \"What we need is...\"\n\n\"We need the right belief system.\"\n\n\"Yes, I couldn't have put it better myself. Remember that all the religions we have looked at have good points and bad, we must always remember not to throw the baby out with the bath water.\"\n\n\"Okay, I can see that. But there is so much resistance. People who are already part of a religion won't want to face the fear and humiliation of changing.\" He paused before looking elated at something. \"Ahh...I see now!\"\n\n\"What is it Hugh?\" said Zab.\n\n\"On the cover of your little notebook – the picture of the gold chalice. That's what all this therapy is about isn't it –  receptiveness to truth! The therapist reveals the truth, and the client needs to receive it. Like I wouldn't receive the truth from you at the start. So you use the chalice on your stationery as a symbol of receptiveness to truth!\" Hugh smiled.\n\n\"Oh yes,\" said Zab. \"Yes, something like that.\"\n\n\"Can I see it now? The book. You said I would be able to one day.\"\n\n\"Urr, well, soon I think. I still have a few more notes to make. It isn't ready just yet,\" said Zab.\n\nHugh was disappointed, but he had learned to be patient when Zab said something.\n\n\"Right,\" said Hugh, \"well, anyway, people are entitled to believe what they like, aren't they?\" He was uncertain that this problem could be dealt with.\n\n\"Yes people have a right to believe what they like. They must have free will. But they don't have the right to recruit innocent people into their belief, when their belief contains destructive falsehoods. It's at that point we have a moral duty to intervene.\"\n\n\"It's unethical to lie...\" Hugh concluded.\n\n\"Well, it's unethical to lie when it leads to unnecessary suffering, to be more precise.\"\n\n\"Which is what a lot of the religions are doing.\"\n\n\"Exactly.\"\n\n\"It's another enormous problem isn't it? I mean, the genetic psychopathy was big enough, but this spiritual stuff adds to that... It's just _so_ complicated.\" Hugh was still phased out by the scale of the issues in the GCD.\n\n\"It _is_ complicated, but not impossible.\" Zab tried to encourage Hugh not to lose hope. \"And any way, we're making good progress. We've found a rational way of thinking and living which can help _Homo sapiens_ if we can pass it on - our belief system. We've gone through different stages together. We've looked at your planet and accepted there is a mental health problem which needs to be improved. We've thought about the kind of healthy planet we would like to make. We have come up with an idea for what kind of therapy the world needs to get from the poor situation to the good situation. Next we need to make a plan for how to put our therapy into practice. And finally...\"\n\n\"You put it into practice.\" Hugh completed Zab's sentence.\n\n\"Urr...no. I can't I'm afraid.\"\n\nHugh was aghast. \"WHAT?! After all this time, you're not going to give my planet the therapy it obviously needs?!\"\n\n\"I can't. There is only one of me. I told you our resources are limited. And anyway, as you know, your planet is very scared of aliens. It would generate too much resistance if I tried to do it.\"\n\n\"Well, we need more therapists then.\"\n\n\"That's true. How do we go about doing that?\" Zab fed Hugh an open question, hoping Hugh would devise a plan for himself.\n\n\"We need to pass on what we have been working on. We need to tell other people. Maybe train other people to become therapists as well. But for that I guess we need a leader.\"\n\n\"That's good...\"\n\n\"I can't do it, I'm the world's most ordinary man. No one listens to me. It's not like I run a country or own a newspaper or anything. How can someone like me make a difference?\"\n\n\"Okay. Well, think about how many billions of people Christ  reached. Not bad for a man who came from a time when there were no newspapers, radio, television or Internet. And he never actually suggested he was divine.\"\n\n\"Jesus!\" To Hugh, the solution now seemed obvious. He stayed calm, focusing hard on the problem and the solution, formulating a plan. \"Okay. That was a good session,\" he said finally. \"I need to go and think.\" And he left Zab's consulting room.\n\nWhen he reached his room Hugh went to his mirror. He looked into his own eyes and spoke: \"It's me. I'm... _the one._ \"\n\nThe links to share and discuss this book on Facebook and Twitter are at::\n\nwww.TheShrinkFromPlanetZob.com.\n\n# 17 The Second Coming\n\nZab was in his consulting room, writing notes in his notebook, when Hugh walked in.\n\nZab looked up, his eyes bulged, his jaw dropped and he failed to utter a word. Hugh entered wearing long white robes, bearing a distant calm expression and sporting a sharp beard which he had acquired from the synthesiser. He stepped small serene steps and, raising his right arm slowly towards Zab, said, \"Bless you.\"\n\nZab was stunned for a moment, but remained calm. \"...okay...\" he said slowly, and then carelessly added \"urrm... how are things today Hugh?\"\n\nHugh continued to stare into the far distance. \"Good. Very good Dr Zab. I have returned.\"\n\n\"Yeees... I can see you have returned. Do go on...\"\n\n\"I am come again. For my world. I am among you. My people need not fear, for I have returned.\"\n\n\"Returned from where, is that?\"\n\n\"From my father.\"\n\n\"...Okay... and why have you returned?\"\n\nHugh broke his distant gaze for a slight moment of confusion. \"I have come for my people. To heal.\"\n\n\"Ah, to heal! I see. You're going to heal _Homo sapiens_ then?\"\n\nHugh was still confused at Zab's obvious questions. \"Of course.\"\n\n\"And how exactly are you going to heal your people?\"\n\n\"I will be among them.\" To Hugh it seemed obvious.\n\n\"And what will you do when you are among them?\"\n\n\"I will bless them.\"\n\n\"Right... like you just blessed me?\" said Zab.\n\n\"Of course.\"\n\nZab sighed an awkward sigh. \"You care about your species don't you Hugh?\"\n\n\"I love my people. My love will heal them. They will be blessed and will find Heaven on Earth.\" Hugh remained distant.\n\n\"Hugh, I think there may be an issue here we need to look at.\"\n\nHugh was confused into silence for a moment.\n\nZab continued. \"You are right to love your people. But you know what love is don't you?\"\n\nHugh remained silent.\n\n\"Do _I_ love you Hugh?\" Zab gently coaxed Hugh. Inside, Hugh knew the truth that Zab did indeed love him, but for the moment the reality which Zab was calling Hugh towards was too painful. He opted for silence for a while.\n\n\"I think Hugh... I think you know I love you. As a good friend loves another friend. We have known each other for quite a while now, and our work together has shown you that. Do you remember?\"\n\nHugh stayed silent, but he took in Zab's words.\n\n\"I do love you Hugh. I think you know now what that means. How do you feel about that?\"\n\nHugh stayed silent. Zab was touching on something deep and painful. In Hugh's eyes there was moisture forming.\n\nZab risked confronting Hugh on the issue. \"I love you Hugh, as a friend.\"\n\nHugh's eyes watered some more, until a single tear rolled onto his cheek.\n\n\"It's okay  Hugh. You care about your world. That's really positive. You want to love them don't you?\"\n\nHugh looked to Zab and gave a small nod.\n\n\"We can do that together. Will you carry on working with me? Working on loving your world?\" Zab rested a tentacle on Hugh's shoulder.\n\nThrough the emotions which had overwhelmed him, Hugh forced out one quiet word. \"Yes.\"\n\n\"Good. I want to work with you,\" said Zab. He looked at Hugh's robes, and lifted a sleeve. \"Do we need this do you think?\"\n\nHugh looked down at his robes and reluctantly gave a slight shake of his head.\n\n\"Okay, that's good. Why don't you go and get changed, and come back here shortly?\"\n\nHugh stood looking into Zab's three eyes. After a small moment he stepped forward and gave Zab a gentle Hug. Zab hugged him back and patted Hugh's shoulder with his tentacle. Some of Hugh's tears fell onto Zab's green wrinkled skin.\n\nHugh's growth has moved in fits and starts. Here he has headed momentarily down a blind alley. He has stumbled upon a potential solution to the world: he wants to be the one to heal the world by bringing a spiritual revolution to the people; he wants to be the leader – the Messiah. But his plan is unrealistic. It is built on some faint notion that somehow 'being holy' is enough to get the job done. For a moment he has drifted into the realm of the supernatural, believing he can conjure up magical forces which will solve the world's problems. He is not alone in falling into this trap. From time to time Earth psychiatrists have to treat people who have come to think that they are the Messiah, or perhaps God. The illness in which people think they are God is called _theomania._\n\nHugh's plan has noble intentions. It is motivated by love and compassion for the world, but as yet, Hugh has not made a realistic plan. Being \"among them\" is not going to be of any use.\n\n## Being a Messiah\n\nTheomania has been one of the mental disorders which I have courted in my own time on Earth. I mentioned previously how I had experienced serendipity, both the practical kind which helped my life along and later the psychotic variety which caused me some problems. The useful serendipity happened when I was involved with a group of unusual people. By happy coincidence with those people I repeatedly discovered ever more nuggets of weird information. It kept coming, until eventually the things I learned became so big that my mind started breaking down and I suffered from information overload. I was left with information in my mind which seemed to make me somehow unique. That uniqueness was reinforced by comments from friends that I was \"so special.\" I am recovered from the psychotic serendipity and have become conditioned to overcome the information overload, but my mind is now left with the useful information. What should I do with it? Well it seemed clear to me that the information could be used to save the world. I have clarity now and I realise that the idea was simply a bit of irrational thinking resulting from a period of information overload.\n\nIt appeared, when I was gaining information, that the universe was somehow planning coincidences to guide me to become the person who could save all of humanity. From where I was sitting, it seemed that maybe God had made me the 'chosen one'. The coincidences suggested strongly that I was the one true Messiah.\n\nWhen I went to the psychiatrist to help navigate the information overload and serendipity, I was already aware that some people become mentally ill with theomania. So I was keen not to acquire that particular mental illness on top of the other issues I had at the time. In spite of the evidence, I continually reminded myself that I was _not_ the Messiah, but just an ordinary man. But at the same time, I kind of thought I _was_ a messiah. It was a difficult illness to navigate. I deliberately withheld this revelation, that I _was_ a messiah, from my psychiatrist, I was so afraid that she would place me in the box marked 'theomania', without hearing my ideas on it, and maybe section me, put me on drugs or even give me electro-convulsive therapy. But the thing is, now, years after all that turmoil, I know whether I am the messiah or not. Now, I know I _am_ a messiah.\n\nBut don't panic dear reader! This discourse is not going to take a turn for the crazy; there is a rational philosophy behind the fact that I am indeed a messiah. To see things clearly we need to know what the term means. The website www.dictionary.com provides several definitions for the word messiah. They are: \"1. The promised and expected deliverer of the Jewish people; 2. Jesus Christ, regarded by Christians as fulfilling this promise and expectation. John 4:25, 26; 3. Any expected deliverer; 4. A zealous leader of some cause or project.\" When it comes to saving the planet, the definition which is of most interest to us here is: _a_ _zealous leader of some cause or project_.\n\nWe have already arrived at the conclusion that the world needs therapy, and that it can only be done by some kind of movement of the people, wherein a large number of therapists bring therapy to the masses. Such a movement is going to have to start somewhere, and there is every likelihood that it may start with a single person. That person is going to be a leader, and is likely to be quite a zealous personality. So we have found the need for a true messiah, not a supernatural one sent to Earth by God, but a humanistic messiah who takes it upon him or herself to instigate a mammoth project to bring healing to our planet. Such a humanistic leader would, by one recognised definition, be a messiah.\n\nThere are parallels here between such a new humanistic messiah and the most renowned Messiah of times past: Jesus Christ. It can be argued that Christ himself was healing all of humanity by bringing a kind of therapy to the masses. Christ's idea of turning the other cheek is in fact a doctrine from humanistic therapy. If a dysfunctional family is referred to family therapy, each family member will be encouraged to be positive towards the other members who they may previously have viewed as their enemies. At the start of a conflict, each member is taught not to hit back, but instead to be compassionate towards their hitherto enemies. It is no different to Christ's teaching that to bring about peace we need to forgive our enemies. In this particular instance, Christ was not really bringing God to the world, but rather was bringing humanistic therapy. What the world needs now is individuals who can expand this humanistic philosophy and bring it to more people: we need humanistic messiahs.\n\nA sceptical Christian may doubt that Christ as a messiah really did bring humanistic ideals to the world, but there are more fundamental parallels between Christianity and humanism.\n\nChrist, we are told, wished to heal the world by offering us his love. Fair enough, but isn't that in stark contrast with the notion of humanistic therapy, which we have been advocating throughout  this book? Humanism, after all, is based on science not on some wishy-washy romantic notion of love. But actually, love is not a romantic notion. Love was Christ's answer for the world's woes, and love is also the scientific answer.\n\nLove is one of those concepts which most people feel is fundamental to a fulfilling and meaningful life, and yet many people are still confused about its true nature.\n\nPeople often think of love as 'falling in love', the dizzy, heart-skipping feeling which comes when we become emotionally attached to another person for whom we entertain romantic ideas and with whom we may desire to have sex. This is one meaning of the word love, but it is not the type of love which Christ offered to the world. Clearly, there is no falling in love or physical intimacy involved when we think of Christ's love, so this is not it.\n\nThen again, people may often use the word love to describe how they feel towards, say, their pet dog. They care for their dog, feed it, take it for walks, and may feel a bond with their pet -  a fondness in the heart which many people equate with love. But what we are doing when we care for such an animal, or even say for plants in our gardens is not love, it is _cathexis_. Cathexis is the process by which something becomes important to us. We cathect animals or plants by providing work which helps them to survive and grow physically, but there is something absent in this which prevents it from being genuine love. That something is that we cannot influence the mental processes in our animals or plants.\n\nLove can mean these several different things, but the love we are looking for in our humanistic messiah is that which is going to make changes to the mental processes of other humans. The psychiatrist and author M Scott-Peck made headway in the science of love in his bestselling book _The Road Less Travelled._ In the book he defined love as: \"the will to extend one's self for the purpose of nurturing one's own or another's spiritual growth.\"1 Scott-Peck made it clear that spiritual growth was the same as mental growth, and he came to his definition formed by observations made during his practice as a psychiatrist. Love, he said, demands an effort of work by the one providing the love. By using the term _will_ in the definition he was stating that love is the combination of desire and action. If we desire to love someone but don't act to do so then it is not love. Similarly if we act to help someone's growth but didn't desire to do so then it is not love either. Scott-Peck found that his patients were invariably confused as to the true nature of love.\n\nIt follows that since we are only able to influence the mental or spiritual development of humans (not of animals or plants) that love can only be given from one human to another.\n\nLove is highly relevant to the field of psychiatry. Scott-Peck identified that mental illnesses were most commonly caused by an absence of, or defect in, the love which a client had received from their parents. He saw psychotherapy as a process of re-parenting, providing that loving guidance which a client may have lacked from their parents. He was quite explicit about the nature of love in the psychiatric setting: \"psychotherapy should be...a process of genuine love, a somewhat heretical notion in traditional psychiatric circles.\"2 Perhaps psychiatry has moved on a little, as other more recent books by therapists have also identified the similarity between love and psychotherapy.3\n\nThis link between unloving parents and consequent mental illness is a similar observation to what clinical psychologist Martha Stout found, that mental illnesses were most commonly caused by the actions of psychopaths within the family.4 The concepts of love and psychopathy are, in fact, intimately linked.\n\nTo give love demands doing some work. When we give love we use up our own energy supplies to benefit another. There is therefore a fitness cost for the actor and a benefit for the recipient which makes true love an altruistic act by the biological definition of altruism. But people with degrees of psychopathy are in life for themselves and they will not want to use up their own energy to benefit someone else. People with psychopathy then, or genetic psychopathy, are less likely to give love to others. Psychopaths are not loving people. So the psychopaths, through their lack of love, generate mental illnesses and all kinds of suffering in the world. It is left to the healthy people to give love to heal the mental illnesses and suffering. Love is the antidote for psychopathy.\n\nThere is no doubt about it. The conclusion from the science-driven field of psychotherapy, is that love is the cure for the world. This makes our idea of a new messiah complete. The new messiah, will be a leading activist aiming to heal all the woes in the world that we have looked at: the wars, environmental destruction, poverty, animal suffering, false religions and more. This humanistic messiah will do that by influencing the minds of the world's human population. The messiah will bring therapy. And since psychotherapy is in fact love, our new messiah will heal the world with his, or her, love.\n\nLove and psychopathy are all about responsibility. Psychopaths shirk responsibility to feed their own selfish desires. Responsibilities such as helping the poor, caring for the environment or for animals \\- are ignored by genetic psychopaths.\n\nIn contrast, the new messiah is taking responsibility to its absolute limit: to care for the entirety of the world is as much responsibility as it is possible to take. Our new messiah is as far from a psychopath as it is possible to get. In this sense, becoming a messiah is in fact as healthy as you can be. Provided of course that the new messiah makes no claims as to being in some sense divine. This is in stark contrast to the Earth-bound psychiatrists' view that people who think they are the messiah are mentally ill.\n\nThis makes my own experiences with theomania look a little more sane. I was only ever trying to be such a global activist, based on rational responsibility. I was, and am, a messiah, there is no doubt about it, as I take responsibility for the entire world. But note I say I am _a_ messiah, not _the_ Messiah. To be realistic, the world can only be rescued from disaster if all people take some responsibility for fixing it. One new messiah cannot physically change the world. One messiah can only ever be the instigator of a movement to change the rest of the world's population. What the world needs is that everybody shoulders some responsibility. We need around 7 billion messiahs.\n\nIn my life, it has been other people who have sometimes jokingly called me a Messiah, I have only ever joked along with it on occasions, but the reality is very different. The whole idea of being a Messiah should be so obviously ludicrous as to be worthy of no serious consideration at all. It was a joke by other people, that's all. Unfortunately people don't always listen to common sense. For example, after I published my theory of the holy grail in my book and Youtube video _The Holy Grail's Lost Meaning: Symbol of Receptiveness to Truth and Love_ I discovered somebody had found my website on Google by searching the phrase \"is Jake Lyron the Holy Grail?\" Ridiculous! Even after explicitly explaining what the grail symbol means, somebody still twisted it into some insane nonsense.\n\nTo heal the world then, we need to bring therapy to all humans. But that is going to require a lot of therapists. Fortunately practising therapy is something that can be learned. What is required is a thorough dedication to love and truth. This was also identified by Scott-Peck: \"...laymen can practise successful psychotherapy without great training, as long as they are genuinely loving human beings...\"5\n\nWe have identified that the problems with the world are caused by mental illness in the general population, particularly genetic psychopathy. And now we have decided that a movement of humanistic therapy is required to heal those disorders. We need to establish a rational, healthy, compassionate belief system. That movement will most likely need to be headed by one or a few activists, who will instigate the therapy. They will do it with love, and we could if we liked, call them messiahs. But how exactly do we carry that out? What facilities exist in the real world which can help in bringing therapy to the masses? We need to be grounded, practical and realistic if we are really going to find a solution for the world.\n\nMeanwhile...\n\nProfessor Dayv was having time off, which he enjoyed spending in a nearby jungle, feeding the blart-beasts with synthesised grype. Zab came up on Dayv's wrist viewer.\n\n\"Good afternoon Zab, how are you getting along?\" said Dayv.\n\n\"Quite well, two steps forward one step back, as always. But there is a great deal of hope. We have established our belief system, and Hugh is willing to take part in giving the belief system to his planet. I think now we need to look at ways of putting this into practice.\"\n\n\"Okay, how does that work then?\"\n\n\"Well, they have good global information networks which may be useful. We may be able to use them to inject the memes.\"\n\n\"That's great news. Does Hugh know what he has to do?\"\n\n\"Not quite, we are going to look at methods for injecting the memes next. Hopefully, Hugh's active imagination will prove useful. He has come on a long way. In fact he has taught me quite a lot recently.\"\n\n\"It's beautiful isn't it Zab? The process...\" And the professor's eyes watered at the thought of all that hope.\n\n\"It _is_ beautiful sir. It always is. And Hugh takes the credit. He wanted to change... well, after a while.\"\n\n\"I know. We have been very lucky. It is a beautiful planet. Is that all? It's just that there is a blart-beast trying to eat my leg.\"\n\n\"I see. Well you had better get on Professor. I will keep you updated. Goodbye.\"\n\nAnd with that, Dr Zab headed for the research lab to get the updates on planet Earth's political landscape.\n\nThe links to share and discuss this book on Facebook and Twitter are at::\n\nwww.TheShrinkFromPlanetZob.com.\n\n# 18 The Lunatics Have Taken Over the Asylum\n\n\"Change the laws!\" said Hugh.\n\n\"Go on...\" Zab encouraged Hugh to explore the options.\n\n\"We can get the politicians to change the laws so everyone _has_ to be kind. If we tell them about our belief system, they can learn it and then make everyone else learn it,\" said Hugh, enthusiastically.\n\n\"Now... aah... hmm... well...\" Zab could see the idea, but his research had spotted a few problems; he didn't want to hurt Hugh for being naive. \"It's... well, it's just...\"\n\n\"I know... not as straightforward as that!\" Hugh finished Zab's sentence.\n\n\"That's right. You see, this global catastrophic disorder really is quite large.\" Zab was beating about the bush, as he could see Hugh still hadn't grasped the scale of the problem, even at this late stage in the therapy. \"You have to remember that the people running your world are ordinary _Homo sapiens_ just like you, and like you they have their mental health issues to deal with.\"\n\n\"Oh no, I've got a bad feeling about this...\"\n\n\"Yes, well, remember this is all positive. To find solutions we need to look at the problems as objectively as we can. Why don't we take a look at your planet and see what's going on?\"\n\nZab operated his console and the view-screen zoomed down into England, to London, to Westminster, and into the House of Commons. It was Prime Minister's Question Time, and the PM was locked in a battle of wits with the Leader of the Opposition debating the latest unemployment figures. The PM was defending his party's performance, declaring that they had inherited a failing economy from the previous government. The Leader of the Opposition immediately rose to her feet and countered with a joke about the government having two years to solve the problem since they came into power. The opposition roared with laughter and waved their papers in the air. The Speaker of the House took a full minute of shouting \"Order! Order!\" to bring calm to the debate.\n\n\"What's going on here Hugh?\" said Zab.\n\n\"Hmm... democracy in action?\" Hugh suggested tentatively, but he was expecting that it wasn't what it seemed to be.\n\n\"Not quite. These two sides are arguing completely opposite viewpoints. It isn't possible for them both to be right, so at least one side _has_ to be arguing with a falsehood, or it's possible that both of them are wrong. And promoting falsehoods is a symptom of...?\" Zab encouraged Hugh to piece it together.\n\n\"Well, lying is a symptom of genetic psychopathy. I know that now. God ! Not our leaders as well! Is there no end to it?!\" Hugh was incredulous, there seemed to be no limit to the scale of the problem.\n\n\"These two sides are in the battle for genetic supremacy. Did you notice how neither side stopped to listen and think? They just argue in a thoughtless knee-jerk manner. In fact these people have little interest in the real issue at hand; they only have an interest in passing on their genes.\"\n\n\"Okay, so each side is trying to climb up the ladder of social esteem by making their opponents look foolish, and to do that they sometimes need to make false statements.\" It was now becoming clear to Hugh.\n\n\"Very good!\"\n\n\"Okay, well there must be a party that's on the side of truth and altruism, surely that party will be receptive to all this new belief system stuff that we've worked out?\"\n\n\"Well...\"\n\n##  Politicians and Mental Illness\n\nPoliticians have psyches which are occupied by the same desires, fears, aspirations, worries and joys as the rest of the human species, and in our assessment of the mental state of the world we want to look for any mental health issues which may lurk behind the eyes of those in power.\n\nWe have seen some of the mental health problems of individual politicians in chapter 5, where we saw that former US president John Quincy Adams had clinical depression; former US president Abraham Lincoln had several breakdowns, suicidal thoughts and clinical depression; Sir Winston Churchill, former British prime minister, had bipolar affective disorder, and was prone to drinking; David Blunkett, British MP had depression; Boris Yeltsin, former Russian President had depression; Charles Kennedy, British MP had alcoholism; and John Prescott, British MP had bulimia. You can bet there have been more politicians than that who keep quiet about their mental illnesses lest the associated stigma should damage their political careers. But these few examples show that politicians are normal people.\n\nThese disorders listed above are associated with anxiety and are quite likely to be stress related. As we know, stress is the major cause of mental illness and, since the world of politics can be an extremely stressful place, we should expect to see plenty of stress related mental illness in our leaders.\n\nBut politicians will experience delusional illnesses as well. The former British Prime Minister Tony Blair was confirmed as a practising Catholic, a religion which claims there to be a supernatural entity watching over us, which encourages people to be healed by drinking wine and eating wafers and which claims that sins can be forgiven by uttering a few 'Hail Mary's'. The atheist Richard Dawkins would say that Tony Blair has 'the God delusion.' In Tony Blair's case, Catholicism may be benefitting him. The Iraq war of 2003 killed 654,965 people (many more suffered injury, trauma, displacement and grief), and it was instigated on the premise that Iraq had weapons of mass destruction.1 Those weapons were not discovered and that's a lot of people to suffer for a mistake. As the then leader of the British Government, Tony Blair would have shouldered much of the responsibility and subsequent guilt for the atrocity. But the Catholic way makes that okay, since Blair can absolve himself of the guilt by saying a few prayers here and there to an imaginary entity.  In his autobiography, _A Journey_ , he said he had no regrets over the war.2 Where did his guilt go? His religion may have helped him to overcome it, but probably he sought solace in those Freudian defence mechanisms, to live in denial, staving off the agonising pain of guilt for all those deaths. Some people who might experience the guilt of killing so many people could be driven to suicide.\n\nFormer US President George W. Bush shared the same God delusion as Blair when he claimed that God had given him special permission to invade Iraq (or perhaps he was lying about that, in which case it may not have been delusion but might have been a symptom of another mental disorder).\n\nOther politicians who are religious will be experiencing similar religious mental illness. And if they are religious, they will be bringing their illness to the masses by passing insane laws built on foundations of supernatural nonsense and ancient and outdated codes of ethics.\n\nThose are very briefly a few of the anxiety related and delusional mental illnesses which are present in politicians, but as we know, there are other kinds of mental disorder.\n\n## The Dark Side of Politics\n\nTo get more of an idea of the characters of some of our rulers, we can gain clues from the language used in the media to describe those people. We have heard plenty about scandals and corruption. The modern suffix '-gate', derived from the Watergate scandal, can convert any word imaginable into a scandalous new headline. In recent years, the media have often run with the word _sleaze_ , to describe the untoward goings on of people in power. The Collins English Dictionary defines sleaze as: \"dishonest, disreputable, or immoral behaviour, especially of public officials or employees. _\"_ 3 The definition of sleaze brings something important to our attention when it refers to \"immoral behaviour.\" For an act to be immoral, you can bet there is going to be a benefit for the actor and a cost to the recipient. Ring any bells?!\n\nYou may recall from chapter 5, where I mentioned a study which found six out of ten of the staff in a mental health unit had psychopathic character traits. In psychiatry it is important for those practising to have the highest mental health, especially on ethical matters, lest they should do damage to their patients. It illustrates how people in authority, who should be the most decent and healthy, are not always so. Those in the psychiatric profession are mostly normal people, like the rest of us. And this rule applies to politicians as well; politicians are often no more decent and upright than the average person in the street. As we know by now, the average person in the street is normally a genetic psychopath, and our politicians too are typically a group of genetic psychopaths.\n\nA brief glance through some of the scandals of the last century or so can highlight the psychopathic nature of the politicians involved. Wikipedia lists 59 British national government scandals and 147 US federal government scandals between 1900 and September 2010.4 These are a few of the highest profile scandals of course. To get a better idea of how much underhand behaviour is going on, multiply it up to allow for all the lower profile public officials in all the countries in the world, and for all the scandalous behaviour which is never discovered.\n\nMany scandals are of a sexual nature with people in high office, often claiming to have some kind of family-oriented moral high ground, embarking on sexual forays with forbidden new partners. The usual cost-benefit analysis reveals the acts to be psychopathic, there being a fitness benefit and gratification for the politician getting the sex, and there being suffering and possible fitness cost for the established partner who has been cheated on. As I said, politicians are normal people, and that means they have the usual sexual drives.\n\nMore scandals are motivated by avarice. Undercover journalists have successfully offered bribes to UK politicians to help influence government policy. Money may be taken for party funds, but often it is taken for personal gain. In 2009 the UK parliamentary expenses scandal revealed many members of parliament who were misusing the expenses system for their own gains, and much of this was psychopathically motivated.  The gains were for the recipients of the illegal funds, helping them towards gratification and a fitness benefit through the acquisition of resources. The costs were for the taxpayer who is going without the money and subsequent resources.\n\nDirty money is often taken by politicians in exchange for privileges for the donor. From time to time in the UK there are scandals concerning cash for honours. Donors gain the chance to receive a peerage. In this instance, the beneficiary is the party receiving the funds and the potential peer who will gain some status and social esteem. There may be financial gains for the new peer too, and these present the usual fitness benefits and gratification. The cost is for those deserved individuals who are passed over for promotion to the level of peer, and also for members of the electorate who fail to have their views represented in parliament as the parliamentarian is undemocratically elected.\n\nPoliticians have often lied (which, as the reader knows by now, is a common symptom of psychopathy). Sometimes the lies may go as far as perjury, gaining the individual a prison sentence for the offence. On occasion, people in authority have chosen days of major news events to hide lesser stories. For example, news about MP's illegal expenses claims were buried when news broke about 9/11.  This concealing of the truth is a form of lie.\n\nSo politicians are often genetic psychopaths. But we are in danger of drifting away from reality here. The examples of immoral behaviour by politicians which we have discussed is not representative of the whole truth, for the reason that often only the really bad deeds make the news headlines. The good things which politicians do are rarely discussed, so the politicians may appear worse than they are in reality. Politicians will be motivated partly by a genuine desire to do something good for the people and general wellbeing of their country, and this altruistic intention can coexist in the same politician's psyche as their psychopathic traits. Politicians are ordinary people and good and bad are found in each of them.\n\n##  Political Power Cliques\n\nThere are many instances where there is obvious rivalry between parties. We may see partisan smear campaigns. We may also discover illicit funds going into party coffers. In these instances, when there is no clear individual who is the perpetrator, what is going on? The answer is that we are still witnessing psychopathy, but here the psychopathy is attached to the political power cliques.\n\nThere is no good reason to have party politics other than that the parties are aiming to support their own group within the country's population. Typically these groups divide into the 'have's' and the 'have not's', the wealthy and the poor, and that divide generally splits politicians into right or left wing respectively.\n\nWealthy people are often greedy, as we saw in our chapter on poverty. They want more and more to provide them with the gratification and fitness benefits which are the goals of the psychopath. And these wealthy people naturally group together, enjoying the ease of mind which comes from mixing solely with people who share the same dubious values. They may end up living in close proximity, in areas of high property value, leaving the poor to live in areas of deprivation. But the wealthy people are organised. They know that their wealth could be threatened if power falls into the hands of the poor, so they coordinate to find representatives who will act to promote their wellbeing. They might push for lower taxation for high earners, say. And the place in most democratic countries to do this is in the political arena. What they are doing is extending their wealthy power clique to gain control in the government and from there to preserve their wealth. When they keep hold of the wealth, they get the gratification and fitness benefit which they seek. And the fitness cost and likely suffering will be for the poorer people who must go without because the wealthy have so much. So the right wing politicians which we have are often placed there by the psychopathic desires of their section of the electorate.\n\nThe party system is egotistical. There is no rational reason why there should be one particular group which will support one set of policies while another group supports alternative policies. The world is a big and diverse place with myriad issues to be debated, so there is no clear line in reality which says one set of policies should come together as a package. For example, right wing politicians may call for tax breaks for high earners, and then they may unite to promote blood sports (as the British Conservative Party has done). The two issues are unconnected, but the party still unites in favour of killing wild animals for sport. The reason for this is to bind the power clique together. Individuals within the party will prefer to all support a particular viewpoint, just so they can stand united, albeit often against rational thought. Similarly, in the US, right wing supporters grouped together to oppose Barack Obama's plans to bring better health care to the less well off. That is an ethical issue too. In opposing the healthcare, the wealthy right-wingers were benefitting themselves whilst letting the poor suffer and bear the fitness cost. Opposing the health-care was a psychopathic act. Interestingly, tax breaks for the wealthy, blood sports and the opposition to healthcare all demonstrate a lack of conscience. It appears that right wing politics attracts psychopaths on a variety of issues.\n\nSo if right wing politics attracts psychopaths, does that mean that left wing politics is where we might find more pure, altruistic individuals? Unfortunately not. The poorer parts of society have also grouped together to form their own power cliques in the form of left wing political parties. The motivation of many of the people who vote left of centre can still be self serving and psychopathic, they just have less money.\n\nBut there is a difference. People who are poor do need more money, the wealthy don't. Poor people who vote to get more money may be psychopaths, but they are still justified in trying to even up the distribution of wealth. Also, some of the people who vote left will be wealthy. They will be voting to reduce their own wealth to benefit others. Many left wing voters will be altruistically motivated, alongside those who vote left for psychopathic reasons.\n\nBoth sides of the political fence can foster psychopathy, but paradoxically both left and right wing politicians do attempt to cure psychopathy. Left wing politicians will attempt to disempower the psychopathic rich, the bankers on huge bonuses, the wealthy business leaders who gain peerages and so forth. And at the same time, right wing politicians will try to disempower poor psychopaths, for example people who claim benefits when really they could support themselves through working. So both political sides counter psychopathy in their rivals, but rarely do they counter psychopathy within their own clique.\n\nThe time when the two opposing power cliques decide to pull together is when there is a common enemy, notably at times of war. During the Second World War the British government formed a coalition to unite their efforts to defeat Nazi Germany. The parties united at the time of the Iraq War too, though they didn't make a formal coalition. It is text book power clique theory. When there is a genetic advantage to joining the group, people group together. If there is a genetic advantage to divide, they split into the usual left and right political factions. It's the selfish gene manifesting itself in the political arena.\n\n## Governing is Therapy\n\nSo if politicians are so mentally ill, what scope is there for influencing them and getting them to change the world for the better?\n\nWell, if they are psychopathic then you can be certain that they will be introducing laws which promote their psychopathic values. That is clear from those politicians who wish to bring back blood sports in the UK. But on the issue of animal rights, we can see more evidence of psychopathic governance. We know that anything less than a vegan diet is psychopathic and cruel, so why don't governments introduce bans on the sale of animal derived foodstuffs? Because the politicians have not yet made the moral step towards veganism, so they see no need to stop animal derived foods from being sold. The politicians, on this issue, are psychopaths, so they run the country in a psychopathic manner which leads to animal suffering.\n\nBut this raises an important issue in the use of politics to change the world. Let's say all the politicians _were_ vegan, and introduced a ban on meat, dairy and eggs. What would happen? Well, there would no doubt be riots by people who wanted to stop the government bringing in the radical new law. Those riots would be examples of psychological resistance. It is right to ban meat production, but the people of the land need to grow slowly towards that truth;  they can't take it on board too fast. This is exactly what happens in the therapeutic setting where, if the therapist moves too fast (particularly on a moral issue), the client will terminate the therapy and carry on with their old ways. A more easy to swallow example of this is in the eradication of smoking from Britain. A total smoking ban would meet with too much resistance, so the government has to do it slowly by steadily raising taxes, raising public awareness of the associated illnesses and banning smoking in public places. What the government is doing is providing therapy to people on the very prickly issue of smoking. Good governance is a form of therapy.\n\nSo to get good laws, we need good moral law makers, and that means either providing therapy to heal the politicians we have in power at present or replacing them with more moral individuals. And to replace them with more moral individuals means getting the electorate to elect politicians of strong moral fibre. But the electorate, for the most part, vote out of psychopathic self interest, so to get them to vote for moral leaders we need first to cure the electorate of psychopathy. Either way, we have to provide therapy, either to the politicians or to the electorate, but probably to both.\n\n\"So,\" said Hugh, \"there's no point lobbying politicians, because they all have their own mental health issues which make them resistant to the truth?\"\n\n\"Well, not quite. Don't forget we shouldn't throw the baby out with the bath water – they aren't all bad, and often they do make improvements to the world. But they are ordinary _Homo sapiens_ too; they also need to grow mentally, or spiritually; they need to receive therapy as well as the rest of the world's population. Remember that we need to address the issue of the global catastrophic disorder at all levels, and the political level is one that you still have to use . But it just happens that I am a psychiatrist, which is why I work solely at the therapeutic level.\"\n\n\"So we need to give therapy to the politicians before they can bring therapy to the masses?\"\n\n\"Yes. And since politicians often show signs of genetic psychopathy, we know that this could be a very difficult problem to solve. But supposing we managed to make the politicians healthy; what would then happen if they were to pass on the therapy to the masses?\" Zab offered another open question to Hugh.\n\n\"Well, I guess the masses would go through what I have been through.\"\n\n\"That's right.\"\n\n\"Okay, I'm getting it now, there would be massive resistance, denial, anger, bargaining, but on a much bigger scale.\" Hugh was feeling defeated again.\n\n\"I'm afraid so. In fact it would be such an enormous amount of resistance it could easily turn into civil disorder, riots, who knows? Maybe even wars would break out.\"\n\n\"Oh... dear...\"\n\n\"Oh dear indeed! The politicians are beholden to the populace. It is because the entire population is unhealthy, that the politicians couldn't bring about fast, radical changes, even if they wanted to. As I have shown you, changes in therapy have to happen slowly, and even then it can be traumatic. Truth has to be presented steadily.\"\n\n\"Okay...\" With Hugh's new way of thinking he was now constantly seeking out solutions. \"Well... then we need to educate the people. Education! If we use education to change the population, they won't be resistant to the politicians.\"\n\n\"Education... yes. We certainly need to look at that.\"\n\nThe links to share and discuss this book on Facebook and Twitter are at::\n\nwww.TheShrinkFromPlanetZob.com.\n\n# 19 Nature Versus Nurture\n\n\"Good morning Hugh, take a seat. Now then, you came up with the idea of using education to bring therapy to people.\" Zab smiled. The therapeutic work between Hugh and Zab had reached a new level. Hugh's resistance had all but vanished, and each session was becoming lighter, more constructive and for both Zab and Hugh the work was often enjoyable and fun.\n\n\"Hello Zab. Yes, I bet you have looked at this already.\"\n\n\"Well, yes we have. I think there may be some issues here. The thing is, the people who do the teaching, well they are fairly ordinary people, like you.\"\n\n\"Okay. Another mental health issue then...\"\n\n\"Sometimes. There is no them and us in the field of mental health. But there are certainly times when the educators could do with a little... well, education.\"\n\n\"Or therapy?\" Hugh prompted Zab.\n\n\"Yes, therapy. Let's have a look at a few schools in your world.\"\n\nZab operated the view-screen, and the two of them watched the world below.\n\n## Teaching Children to be Violent\n\nIn June 2004, two large killing machines rolled in to a field in Warwickshire in the UK. This wasn't the scene of a mass murder, or of the government trying to quell a riot, the killing machines were there to entertain some young children. A primary school, teaching children aged four to seven, had booked two Scorpion tanks to visit their summer fete. They arrived, complete with turrets, grenade launchers and other attachments designed for the purpose of making people die. The teachers were happy, the children were happy and they ran up to touch the tanks in wide-eyed fascination. I was there, as my child attended the school, but I wasn't happy. On that day, the teachers taught the children that war is a glamorous adventure, that war is fun. We know, as adults, that war is not really fun at all. It kills and mutilates people, traumatising many more and leaves people in painful grief and suffering psychological damage which can last a life time. There is a mental health issue here which we can see if we look objectively at these obvious truths. There is not just a slight misjudgement in bringing killing machines to children, the misjudgement is massive: death in war and children's fun are _in reality_ diametrically opposite things, yet the teachers perceived their judgement in inviting the weapons to be quite rational. This is the true nature of mental illness. It is often difficult to see mental ill health in one's self. The teachers were mentally ill in that their perception of the tanks, as a means of fun, was radically different from the reality: that tanks are a means of death.\n\nWhat happened that day was that the teachers' mental illness was passed on to the children. Having tanks at a school fete, where the whole purpose of the day was to have fun, was a clear lesson to the children that killing machines are great fun. And no doubt many of the children who saw the weapons at that fete left with their minds distorted away from reality. Recall from chapter 7 that we saw people go to war because their minds have a false, mythic reality of war, perceiving it as a noble and enjoyable pastime. Here was one example of how that mythic reality was perpetuated from one generation to the next.\n\nEducators shoulder a great responsibility for moulding the minds of future generations. They need to be the healthiest of people, otherwise their mental ill health will be passed on to the children, as in this instance. There is a parallel here with therapy. We know that therapists need to go through therapy first themselves in order that they do not pass on their own neuroses, delusions and personality flaws on to their clients. Education is little different. The purpose of both education and therapy is to guide minds as closely as possible towards rational and moral reality, helping another individual to grow towards their potential. Mental growth is the purpose of both therapy and education: educators need to be good at therapy.\n\nThe 'violence is fun' delusion is endemic in our generally insane society, not just in schools. It permeates children's television programmes and films, is rife in computer games and is there in the toys which are manufactured for making children happy. Think of all those toy guns made for toddlers. Take a look at this photo of a plastic Ninja 'play set', comprising a hatchet and mace, throwing star, dagger and knuckle duster with spikes - weapons designed to mutilate and kill. The recommended age was three and over. Toys like this will damage young minds, and they are manufactured by people who are ill. I bought the toys in my local shop, and the people who sold them to me were, on the face of it, completely ordinary people.\n\nThe cost-benefit analysis is that there is a benefit for the manufacturer who makes money, and a cost for the people who may be on the receiving end of the violence encouraged in the children.\n\nI recall the effect that violent toys had on me when I was young. I remember spending some pocket money on a World War II relic – a bayonet. I recall examining the cold steel to find traces of blood, wondering if it had ever killed any Germans. It gave me a feeling of excitement, rather than a feeling of disturbed nausea which it should have.\n\nAnother event where I saw violence being pedalled as fun to a young audience was at the Hay-on-Wye Literary Festival in 2010. To occupy the children attending, the organisers had provided workshops on how to wield a Samurai sword, how to kill zombies, how to defuse a bomb and a visit to a venison farm. All four activities, including the visit to the venison farm, were to do with killing. No doubt the motivation of the organisers of such deadly events is to make children happy (they are not motivated by evil as such), but it shows the level of ignorance and delusion which is commonplace in society.\n\nThe effect which violent games have on young minds was demonstrated by Jo Frost, the 'super-nanny' of the television programme _Jo Frost: Extreme Parental Guidance_. In one programme, Jo teamed up with Dr Doug Gentile to conduct an experiment on forty teenage boys.1 Half of them were allowed to play a football simulator computer game for twenty minutes, the other half played a 'first-person war game' (a 'shoot-'em-up'). Afterwards the boys were shown some violent news footage while their heart rates were monitored. It was found that the boys who played the violent game had slower heart rates during the violent footage. The experimenters concluded that the violent game had desensitised the boys towards violence. Later in the same programme, the boys were interviewed by Dr Gentile. During the interview the doctor knocked a jar full of pencils off his desk onto the floor. Half of the boys who had played the football game went to help the doctor pick up the pencils, but of the boys who played the violent game it was only 40 percent who assisted. The conclusion was that the violent computer game had reduced the empathic response in some of the boys. And if empathy goes down, then psychopathy goes up. Interestingly, in reviews of the programme on the Internet, gaming bloggers almost universally condemned the experiment as invalid . Perhaps testing a larger number of boys would have been more thorough, but the figures cannot be ignored. The response on the Internet struck me as typical of the denial we might expect from a psychopathic group being challenged on a moral issue.\n\nThe picture below was drawn by my son when he was 7 years old at a primary school class.\n\nThe object in the top right is a space ship with a tank style gun, and \"Bom\" was my son's misspelling of _bomb_. He picked up this idea that weapons are fun from the rest of society. To help restore some balance, I told his young mind that bombs and guns weren't nice things, that they often hurt people including mums and dads and sometimes children. After I told him he said, \"I think we should get all the weapons and smash them, and put them in a big crushing machine then no-one can get hurt.\" And now, aged 13, he is a very peaceable, well balanced child who has never played with violent toys, or been at all violent to any person or animal. It demonstrates that young minds can be highly receptive to good therapy.\n\nIf we can educate children to understand the nature of war and violence (which my son demonstrated is possible), perhaps then they will grow to become lovers of peace instead of violence and maybe in the future they will be less inclined to go to war. Then fewer people will suffer. As we saw earlier in the book, war is the symptom of mental disorders, and so the cure for war starts in providing the right education or therapy to all people, particularly to children.\n\n##  Teaching Children to Abuse Animals\n\nI mentioned that the visit to the venison farm at the Hay Festival encouraged children to take violence as fun. In this instance, the violence manifests as the cruelty to and killing of deer for the purpose of human consumption. This is another area where unhealthy perspectives are being passed on to children through education and society in general, in the violence we deal out to our animal friends.\n\nTeachers are ordinary people. As such, they are generally no more kind to animals than the rest of society; most of them eat animals and animal products. In chapter 14 we found that using animals in this way constitutes a mental health problem, and, as with the 'violence is fun' delusion, this mental health problem is readily passed on from adults to the children.\n\nIn 1999 a student was suspended from a Salt Lake City area high school for wearing a shirt that said 'vegan' on the back.2 The school administrators insisted that veganism was a gang related activity This demonstrates not just ignorance on the part of the teaching staff, but quite likely psychopathy-related persecution of a moral individual. We have seen how this kind of attack on vegetarians and vegans is a form of defence mechanism by the meat eaters who are trying to stave off the truth that they don't need to (and arguably shouldn't) eat animal products. The fact that it was a school which attacked a vegan student reveals the level to which the social norm of meat eating is entrenched.\n\nA vegetarian school girl I know experienced unpleasant persecution not from her meat eating peers (which you might expect), but from her own father. She made the courageous and noble decision to stop eating animals, but in exchange for her moral fortitude, her father viciously attacked her with spiteful 'humour', saying she had \"turned to the dark side.\" There was ill-health here; the attacks were typical of the psychopathy-fuelled resistance to truth which we have seen often. Watching this vegetarian girl receive the abuse was unpleasant;  I could see she was clearly unhappy, but I did my best to be supportive to her. From my observations, young people are often more altruistic towards animals than adults. I know of children who want to become vegetarian and have been prohibited from doing so by their ignorant and psychopathic parents. It is this kind of pressure which can make morally upright young people cave in, give up their moral stance, and ally themselves to the psychopathic social norm. This is one instance of how the psychopathic power clique (in this case, meat eaters), exert pressure on those with different moral standards (the vegetarians and vegans). The meat eaters want the vegetarians and vegans to start eating meat, recruiting them into the psychopathic clique, and so swelling the ranks of the psychopaths' army. The father who attacked his vegetarian daughter is a genetic psychopath. The fact that a father can persecute his own child demonstrates the prevalence and extreme nature of psychopathy. He had no conception of his own mental ill health and, by society's standards, would be deemed to be quite healthy. Dr Zab would see it differently. Meat-eating adults will not tell children that eating animals is wrong, as they cannot conceive that meat eating is a psychopathic act. They are unaware that they are ill, and as a result, their children usually grow up to be ill as well.\n\n## Green Education\n\nWhen it comes to the environment, teachers are no better or worse than any ordinary person for ignoring their conscience. In lessons they may be obligated to teach about recycling, say, but in their own lives they may lack environmental scruples. One head teacher I know lives in a house which has a curb-side collection of compostable waste. It would take her very little effort to put her food waste in the correct bin, but she doesn't bother; she puts it in with the non-recyclable waste. This is a matter of conscience, there being a fitness benefit for her by being lazy, and a cost for the rest of society who have to find ways to dispose of her waste. She is therefore another genetic psychopath. In her school there are often lights left on in empty rooms, adding to the problems of climate change. When I offered her the opportunity to explore solar heating for the school swimming pool (something which is highly beneficial for the environment and for the school coffers), she failed to respond.\n\nThis head teacher is an ordinary person, not a person who would usually be labelled as psychopathic. There will be plenty more teachers like her who are teaching children to be lazy and selfish with regards to the environment. If teachers tell the children to switch off lights, they will help cure them of genetic psychopathy. If they fail to tell the children, they will be training them to become psychopaths.\n\n## Religious Education\n\nAnother area where children are given mental illnesses by their educators is in regards to religion.\n\nIn 2009, my son's school gave him as a gift a copy of the New Testament Bible, handed out to each of the children attending. My permission was not sought and I was quite angry. In that act, the school may have passed on a number of mental illnesses to a lot of children. We saw in chapter 16 how religion is rife with mental illness. For one thing, the children were led to believe in a supernatural being, something for which there is no evidence. They were taught that prayer is a valuable method to gain a better life which, as we saw previously, is not based on reality.\n\nCuriously though, although the school endorsed a religion in this irresponsible manner, almost all of the teachers at the school are not religious. There is a great inertia in the religious social norms which carries the illness onward through the millennia, damaging each generation as it goes.\n\nMy son's school is inconsistent with its religious education. When I attended the same school some thirty years previously, we were forced to have prayers and hymns every morning, something which all of us students considered extremely dull and worthless. Nowadays the same school rarely has prayers, even though the current UK legislation dictates that every state school must have a daily \"collective act of worship\" which is \"wholly or mainly of a broadly Christian character.\"3 This goes against the current movement of the general population to becoming more secular, but the secular ethos _is_ prevalent in my son's school where there is usually an absence of religious worship. Most state schools in the UK are generally secular in their approach to religion, though they do, by law, have to pay lip service to the \"broadly Christian\" ethos.\n\nIn September 2007 Dr Paul Kelley, the head teacher at Monkseaton High School in Tyneside UK, pushed to allow his school to become the first recognised secular school in Britain. He proposed to eliminate the daily act of Christian worship, and sought \"a fundamental change in the relationship with the school and the established religion of the country.\"4 But the plan was blocked by Government officials who claimed it would be politically impossible. One senior figure at the then Department for Education and Skills, told Kelley that bishops in the House of Lords and ministers would block the plan.5 In other words, politicians with religious mental illness were so fearful of losing their power clique to secularists that they would use the law to make schools give children the politicians' mental illness. It illustrates the complexity of mental health problems linking religion to politics, to education, and to children.\n\nI should say that schooling in UK state schools has generally improved with regards to religion. In religious education lessons, children are usually not encouraged to ascribe to any particular faith, rather they are taught about different faiths and also about the possibility of having no faith. In an exercise in a religious education class, my son and his classmates were told to draw a picture of what God meant to them. Most boys drew meaningless abstract patterns as God meant nothing to them at all. One boy drew a tsunami in a noble attempt to highlight the absurdity of a loving God who destroyed so much with a natural disaster. My own son wrote out the question: \"If there is a God why is there so much suffering?\" Neither my son nor his friends show any evidence that they are suffering from having a lack of faith.\n\nWhen my son was seven years old, his granddad (my father) died, and consequently I was forced to explain to him something about the notion of death. I expected it to be a frightening concept for such a young mind. I was tempted to resort to the religious defence mechanism and tell him that his granddad had gone to heaven, that he was happy and with God and that he was waiting for us to be with him again when we go to heaven. I wanted my son not to be scared, so the defence mechanism seemed like an attractive option, but equally I wanted him to be free of delusions. I decided to take the agnostic/naturalistic stance which I proposed in the chapter on religion, and so I told him that nobody really knows what happens after we die. This seemed to satisfy him, and he has never since approached me fretfully on the issue of death, or of heaven or God. My son is now thirteen, and he is vaguely agnostic/atheistic in his outlook, as are most of his friends at school. Only the boys brought up by religious parents are religious. My son seems contented with his lack of faith, and he has a good conscience. He and his friends demonstrate that a child does not need religion to be happy, nor even to be a good person. In teaching him a little about death, I took the same approach as a humanistic therapist might, and it seemed to work.\n\nIf you were to physically assault a person, you would expect society to frown on you and maybe use the law to dispense punishment on you. In reality there is little difference between damaging a person's physical wellbeing or their mental wellbeing – both are forms of harm, and mental harm can very often be more destructive and painful than physical harm . Why then is mental assault not punishable by law in the same way that physical assault is punishable? When we look at the reality (where mental good health resides) it probably should be punishable. The world might be a different place if the law acted to protect individuals from mental assault.\n\nSome of the worst perpetrators of mental assault on children are the faith schools. We saw previously how religious adults pass on their own religious delusions to innocent children. We saw too, how this propagation of the illness is partly psychopathically fuelled –  the adults want to recruit the children into their own religious power clique. The children too require safety for their genetic survival, so they are also keen to join the power clique into which they are raised, in order that they can gain a strong defensive genetic army.\n\nFaith schools have been criticised for causing divisions in society, isolating students from people of other faiths, or of no faith, and encouraging a climate of intolerance. From the viewpoint of a therapist like Dr Zab, this is a very dangerous thing. We saw early on in this book how social exclusion can exacerbate or generate mental illness, and, conversely, social inclusion can promote good mental health. It is when a client becomes detached from the wider society that their mind may drift away from reality and into the realm of mental ill health. This isolating from society is exactly what the faith schools are encouraging. Little wonder then that many people who were brought up into religion as children require therapy in later life to undo the damage which was done.\n\nLabelling a child with a religion is a form of child abuse. In terms of humanistic therapy, the therapist is expected to allow the client to become all that they can be - to fulfil their potential - and the therapist is not allowed to influence a client's aspirations. In a very real sense the 'inner truth' of the client must be respected. If the client wants to be a carpenter, then let them, if a musician then let them; the therapist is not allowed to exert an ego on the client. But the religious indoctrination of children is in breach of this humanistic principle. A child may not naturally wish to become a Jew, say, and so religious schools are failing in their duty to let the child be what they would wish to be if they were only allowed. Since it is the purpose of love to nurture a person to become all that they naturally can be, faith schools do not strictly love their students.\n\n## Young Psychopaths\n\nSo if children are gaining degrees of psychopathy from adults, does this mean that they would normally, by nature, be kind, altruistic types all trying to do their very best for the world ? We can get an idea of the true nature of many children if we look at the stress levels of teachers. The British Health and Safety Executive found that \"secondary education teaching professional\" was the occupation gaining the highest rates of self reported stress and stress related illness in the UK.6 Why should that be? Surely the idea of engaging with a classroom full of young minds, all eager to learn should be a most rewarding and fun occupation. The answer is that children too have degrees of psychopathy. Psychopathy can exist in children of any age (we are, after all, asserting that psychopathy has a largely genetic origin). In the classroom, the teacher is there to make the children do something they don't want to do – work ! That immediately puts the teacher in the position of enemy. The dynamics of the group, with a large number of unwilling young psychopaths pitted against an isolated common enemy make a very likely mix for persecution. Baiting teachers is something of a sport for many school children, as I recall well from my often unruly school lessons. Sometimes it is the worst kind of psychopathy meted out on the teacher, drifting unashamedly towards sadistic. The stress-related illness in the teachers then, such as depression and anxiety, is often generated by the psychopathy in the children. As with most of the problems in the GCD, the main culprit is yet again psychopathy.\n\nAdded to the pressure from children, teachers are also on the receiving end of pressures from the children's parents. There are strong genetic drives which cause some parents to overprotect their children;  they are, after all, carriers for the parents' own genes. And parents may not want to know their children are psychopathic at school. I am reliably informed by a teacher friend of mine that parents often significantly add to the stress of the teachers.\n\nClinicians don't like to diagnose young children as psychopathic, but remember in this book we are not looking at psychopathy in the conventional clinical sense. Nonetheless, psychopathic cruelty is certainly evident in many children. Look at the prevalence of bullying in schools, something which can be so severe that it drives some children to suicide. Children, like parents, teachers, politicians and everyone else, are ordinary people, and they have their psychopathic traits just like the rest of us.\n\n## The Scope for Change\n\nChildren are key players in influencing the mental health of the world. They are designed to absorb insatiably the wisdom of their elders;  learning is a crucial survival skill. They are also genetically predisposed to join the power clique of the people who bring them up. Their naivety and their willingness to be inside the group make them very susceptible to taking on the same mental traits as their guardians. If their parents and teachers are ill, the children will copy their illnesses.\n\nMental illness can be influenced, even genetic psychopathy. And mental disorders are often learned traits. One way to heal the world then, is to get ahead of the mental illnesses before they are created, by providing good rational guidance (therapy) to children. Teachers and guardians need to be therapists for the children, but currently in the UK there is no formal training in the field of psychotherapy for either teachers or guardians. As such they will not be providing the best therapy to the children, therapy which they so urgently require.\n\nThe guidance children require needs to be along the secular humanist lines which we have been exploring in this book. To cure the world, children need to be taught about humanism from an early age, as a form of pre-emptive therapy. But to teach the children correctly, we need mentally healthy teachers and parents. But they also became ill when they were children. So we have something of a Catch 22.  We could intervene by changing the education system, but that means changing the laws - laws which are set by politicians who are often themselves unhealthy. So we need to change the election results by influencing the electorate and that means educating the electorate to have good mental health. So we are back at education, and round and round the circle goes. Somehow, we need to break into this cycle of mental ill health, and inject the antidote for mental illness.\n\nAt the level of education, the injection needs to be made in the curriculum. Given the overwhelming importance of psychology in all of the global issues we have looked at, the subject should be compulsory in secondary schools, yet it is only the small minority of school children who are taught psychology in class. If psychology, or even psychotherapy, were taught to children, it would provide the therapy which they need, as well as training for them to go on giving therapy to others for the rest of their lives.\n\nBut there is a ray of hope here. In the UK, schools are now teaching a few subjects which are introducing broadly humanistic values. These are Personal Social Health and Economic Education (PSHE), Citizenship, and Social and Emotional Aspects of Learning (SEAL).\n\nPSHE classes are currently available for the complete school age range from five to sixteen. The subject examines areas which relate closely to the kind of psychology we have been studying in this book.\n\nClasses encourage pupils to gain a positive sense of self, examining self esteem, relationships, feelings and emotions.\n\nFrom the early school years at age five to seven, children are invited to explore values. The government website curriculum.qcda.gov.uk states that children are taught \"to recognise what they like and dislike, what is fair and unfair, and what is right and wrong.\"7 It's an early opportunity being taken to reduce psychopathy in the children, before it becomes too hard-wired.\n\nChildren are shown about our inner psychological processes which fuel the dynamics of our world \"to recognise, name and deal with their feelings in a positive way \".\n\nResponsibility becomes a key concept and, as we know, taking responsibility is an antidote for psychopathy This is encouraged when children are taught \"to realise that people and other living things have needs, and that they have responsibilities to meet them.\" There's some hope there for encouraging empathy towards \"other living things\"; good news for the animals and ecosystems.\n\nThe consequences of our actions are explained to children when they are taught \"what improves and harms their local, natural and built environments and about some of the ways people look after them.\"\n\nWe saw early on in this book how psychopaths (clinical ones especially) can wreak devastating harm on their victims through hurtful behaviour, generating mental illnesses. The PSHE curriculum focuses on this, showing children \"that there are different types of teasing and bullying, that bullying is wrong, and how to get help to deal with bullying.\"\n\nTHE PSHE lessons grow in depth as the children grow. For ages seven to eleven, children are taught \"to reflect on spiritual, moral, social, and cultural issues, using imagination to understand other people's experiences.\" We are seeing here an encouraging attempt to foster empathy in the pupils. As we know, empathy is a cure for psychopathy. This looks promising, and the courses go deep into this, teaching children \"to realise the consequences of anti-social and aggressive behaviours, such as bullying and racism, on individuals and communities.\"\n\nThe theme of responsibility is continually reinforced in the young minds, teachers showing \"that there are different kinds of responsibilities, rights and duties at home, at school and in the community, and that these can sometimes conflict with each other.\" The curriculum demonstrates an openness to sources of morality, where children are encouraged \"to recognise the role of voluntary, community and pressure groups\". More good news there for the likes of Greenpeace or Oxfam.\n\nThe need for empathy is reinforced, the government guidelines stating that children are to be taught \"that their actions affect themselves and others, to care about other people's feelings and to try to see things from their points of view.\"\n\nAt age seven to eleven children are supposed to learn \"that pressure to behave in an unacceptable or risky way can come from a variety of sources, including people they know, and how to ask for help and use basic techniques for resisting pressure to do wrong.\" This looks very encouraging indeed, possibly providing a step towards undermining the destructive effects of the power cliques which we have seen so frequently throughout this book.\nThe subject of Citizenship leans more towards teaching children to become active and responsible members of the democratic process, but it still has valuable humanistic lessons to teach. The government guidelines encourage children to be:8\n\n\\- aware of their rights and responsibilities as citizens\n\n\\- informed about the social and political world\n\n\\- concerned about the welfare of others\n\n\\- articulate in their opinions and arguments\n\n\\- capable of having an influence on the world\n\n\\- active in their communities\n\n\\- responsible in how they act as citizens.\n\nAgain, the lessons of responsibility and caring may serve well to diminish the prevalence of psychopathy in our society. Not only that, but the subject is encouraging children to be pro-active in the world, hopefully playing an active role in bettering the lot of humanity.\n\nThere are a number of aspects to learning in the Citizenship coursework which include:\n\n**\\- Knowledge and understanding** **:** About topics such as laws and rules, the democratic process, the media, human rights, diversity, money and the economy, sustainable development and the world as a global community, and about concepts such as democracy, justice, equality, freedom, authority and the rule of law.\n\n**\\- Skills and aptitudes** **:** Critical thinking, analysing information, expressing opinions, taking part in discussions and debates, negotiating, conflict resolution and participating in community action.\n\n**\\- Values and dispositions** **:** Respect for justice, democracy and the rule of law, openness, tolerance, courage to defend a point of view and a willingness to listen to, work with and stand up for others.\n\nCritical thinking is a vital skill. It enables us to question things we are told, looking for the truth. If we can filter out the falsehoods, for example those told to us through religions, we may reduce the mental disorders and suffering which can result from those falsehoods.\n\nThe website www.citizenshipfoundation.org.uk states that the topics in Citizenship education are:\n\n**\\- Real** **:** actually affect people's lives\n\n**\\- Topical** **:** current today\n\n**\\- Sometimes sensitive** **:** can affect people at a personal level, especially when family or friends are involved\n\n**\\- Often controversial** **:** people disagree and hold strong opinions about them\n\n**\\- Ultimately moral** **:** relate to what people think is right or wrong, good or bad, important or unimportant in society\n\nIt isn't surprising that the subjects are controversial and moral at the same time. We have seen many instances where moral truths are rejected by psychopathic individuals. These Citizenship classes are becoming controversial because they are looking closely at psychopathy in our world. Hopefully the classes will encourage greater morality in the children in discussing this. We are seeing here a potential cure for genetic psychopathy.\n\nIn secondary school, part of Citizenship teaches \"actions that individuals, groups and organisations can take to influence decisions affecting communities and the environment.\" Given the importance of the environment for all our futures, this has to be a valuable teaching strategy.\n\nLike PSHE, the subject of Citizenship is tackling the issues which we have raised in this book so far, particularly issues of psychopathy.\n\nThe SEAL scheme complements the formal National Curriculum subjects. Again this scheme brings a focus on basic psychology, exploring self awareness and managing feelings. And again empathy and responsibility become key concepts, adding to the solution for psychopathy introduced through PSHE and Citizenship.\n\nSo these three subjects, PSHE, Citizenship and SEAL, are vital new approaches to promoting the mental health of our world.\n\nBut our story is about the most ordinary man in the world, and this educational programme may not be ordinary. The world is a big place, and educational standards vary widely around the globe. Not all countries will be teaching these humanistic subjects to their pupils. Hopefully the standards set in countries such as the UK will steadily influence education in other countries and the three subjects which we have looked at may ultimately become the norm, and perhaps may be developed further.\n\nThere are still gaps in the subjects. The true nature of mental illness (that is mental illness in people who think they are sane) is likely to be underplayed. I can't imagine that a teacher would be prepared to say that many religious people are deluded, or that climate change deniers are psychopaths. And breaking into unhealthy behaviour such as meat eating is unlikely to be effective as it is such as strong social norm and the educators themselves are infected with the disorder.\n\nSchool lessons need to be given a greater psychological slant. In short, the understanding put across in this book needs to be offered to children. Given the enormous power which genetic psychopathy holds over all life on Earth, it is imperative that it be made a compulsory subject in its own right. If we can make children aware at an early age of the psychological resistance to positive change, perhaps they will not so easily head down the path of psychopathy and delusion and will grow into a healthy future world population.\n\nTeaching children is a key part of healing the global catastrophic disorder. This is because they have such young minds. Being so young, their neural pathways are less strongly linked together, making them more flexible and receptive to new truths. When psychopathy and other mental disorders have existed inside a mind into adulthood, they are less easy to heal. So part of our solution for this mad world has to be to give mental good health to children.\n\nBut all of society needs to be changed: children, parents, educators, religious leaders and politicians. All people require therapy in order to heal the GCD. What other tools do we have at our disposal to dispense that therapy? And what could an ordinary person like Hugh Manitee do to effect change on the world? We need to look for more places where mental processes are influenced.\n\nHugh sat trying to get his head round the problem of his world. It was so complicated and he was struggling to find a way forward.\n\n\"So...\" he said after a few moments of hard contemplation, \"to give therapy to the world we need healthy rule makers who will only be elected to office by people who are healthy, which means we need to educate people, which means we need to change the education system, which means we need to give therapy to the teachers, but the teachers were children once themselves which means we need to educate them as children, which means changing the teachers... it just keeps going round in circles! How do we break into the circle? It's just impossibly complicated.\"\n\n\"It _is_ complicated,\" said Zab, \"but again we have to use all levels. You will have to lobby the educators like you lobby the politicians. In fact, you need to lobby everyone. How do you do that? What would _you_ do Hugh? How could you give therapy to the whole world?\"\n\nHugh sat, his imagination going down every avenue. \"Publish... the truth... I guess,\" he said quietly.\n\n\"Go on...\"\n\n\"Well, we could use... newspapers...\"\n\n\"And...?\"\n\n\"Well, television?\"\n\n\"Go on...\"\n\n\"Books, maybe radio... then there's the Internet.\"\n\n\"Brilliant Hugh! The media.\"\n\nThe links to share and discuss this book on Facebook and Twitter are at::\n\nwww.TheShrinkFromPlanetZob.com.\n\n# 20 Media Madness\n\nHugh and Zab sat at the view-screen watching Hugh's clone. In the kitchen the clone was having his breakfast. There was a noise at the door and the paper arrived. Hugh's clone collected it and went to read it at the kitchen table.\n\n\"Do you remember Hugh, your clone voting in the European election?\" said Zab.\n\n\"Yes, I do.\"\n\n\"Why do you think he (or you) voted the way he did?\"\n\n\"I thought it was the right thing to do at the time.\"\n\n\"Based on?\" said Zab.\n\n\"What I had learned about the issue.\"\n\n\"Learned from...?\"\n\n\"Well... okay, I see, from reading the paper.\" Hugh looked at Zab. \"Issues?\"\n\n\"Yes, there are issues here. Let's look over your clone's shoulder and see what he's reading.\"\n\n##  Political Bias, Power Cliques and Psychopathy\n\nIn the run up to the 1997 UK General Election, _The Daily Mail_ newspaper ran a story about how the then leader of the Labour Party, Tony Blair's, smile was losing votes for his party.1 The paper claimed that a survey had revealed that people found him \"two faced and insincere\" and \"smarmy and smug\". An interesting finding you might think, until we look at the actual statistics. It turns out that only Conservative supporters were polled, so naturally there was going to be a bias against the Labour Party. Not only that, but the actual figures revealed there was something untoward going on. The study found that only 15 percent of Tory voters found him \"two faced and insincere\", an irrelevant 8 percent found him \"smarmy and smug\" and only 7 percent didn't like his \"grin\". To put that another way, 85 percent of Tory voters did not find him two faced and insincere, 92 percent did not find him smarmy and smug and 93 percent were indifferent about his smile. For people who were not Conservative supporters, the figures may have been even more supportive of Labour. But that didn't stop the paper running with a headline that suggested Blair's grin was a vote loser. The paper had massaged the figures to show labour in a bad light. Note that the paper used the word \"grin\" in the story instead of \"smile\". The intention there was to get the reader to dislike Tony Blair – a person who grins may in some way be devious and wicked, whereas a person who smiles is friendly and kind. Papers may not always lie outright, but in the choice of language such as this they are manipulating the reader. Clearly, throughout the article, the paper was not accurately representing the whole truth. And since truth is the cure for mental illness, we need to be concerned.\n\nNewspapers routinely lie for political gain. Lying, as we know, is a major symptom of psychopathy, and politically biased papers are riddled with psychopathy. Why do they do that?\n\nWe are looking again at symptoms of the psychopathic power clique. We know that groups pull together into cliques which share common values, and we saw in our chapter on politics how, broadly speaking, people tend to divide into the 'have's' and the 'have not's'. Those two groups are in mortal genetic combat, competing for money, in order to obtain resources which will provide the gratification and fitness benefits which they seek. And we know that those two groups are organised enough to elect representatives into government. Newspaper proprietors are little different to the man on the street; they will still have inside them the same genetic drives which the rest of us are subject to. The genetic psychopathy inside the newspaper proprietors will steer them to promoting their own values. And, if they are wealthy and greedy, they will naturally act to defend their wealth by attacking the have not's. They do that by undermining the political opposition. And if they can't use truth to attack their opponents, they will happily resort to lying.\n\nGlancing over tabloid newspapers is enough to show that the lying which goes on for political gain is rife. In lying to the readership the papers are altering the perceptions of their audience. Readers of right wing papers will come to perceive left wing politicians as all bad and, in equal measure, readers of left wing papers will come to perceive right wing politicians as all bad. Since the perceptions of the readers are being taken away from reality, the readers are being given the mental illness of delusion. As I said previously, to actively damage the mental health of an individual is of no lesser consequence than meting out physical harm, and often psychological harm can be much worse. In damaging the mental health of millions of people, it is clear that the management of such papers should be prosecuted and given appropriate sentences.\n\nIf the papers are doing such deliberate harm to so many people, in true psychopathic fashion, does that mean that the readership are innocent victims, who we need to protect? No, that's not the case. In fact, the readership _want_ to be deluded in this fashion. People, as a general rule, tend to buy papers which support their own power clique, be that the have's or the have-not's. They like the copy in their chosen paper because it reinforces their own values, however questionable. A wealthy individual doesn't want to hear that the wealthy should be taxed more, because such a person is a selfish psychopath. Similarly, people in poverty are striving to obtain some of the wealth from the hands of the wealthy;  they also want more. People in poverty want to read a paper which promotes fairer distribution of wealth. (Remember that poorer people can still be psychopaths, even though fair wealth distribution is a morally justifiable goal.)\n\nThe newspapers are gaining plenty from spreading delusion. Not only do they protect themselves by trying to influence the democracy to obtain MP's who will give them a good financial deal, but they are also feeding, in a parasitic fashion, on their readers. They give the readers what they want to hear, not because it is true, but because then it guarantees that the readers will continue to buy their paper. Imagine a right wing paper saying that the Labour leader had a better idea than the Conservative leader? It is a preposterous thought. It could never happen, even if the Labour leader _did_ have a good idea. If the paper went against the opinions of their own power clique, readers would desert the paper like rats from a sinking ship. The paper gets rich by giving the readers what they want to hear. Truth, and what the readers _need_ to hear don't figure into the equation.\n\nA vicious, self reinforcing cycle is brought about by biased media. The readership has its values and aspirations and so buy a paper which matches them. The paper then is compelled to reinforce the values of its readers. It feeds the readers what they want to hear, vilifying the opposition. That deludes the readers, making their values more extreme and more unrealistic, and they return like heroin addicts back to their own paper for their fix of self-gratifying falsehoods.\n\nAside from the political bias which feeds the power clique, there is another way which newspapers strengthen their grip on their addicted readership, and that is by using the common enemy effect. In September 2010 _The Sun_ newspaper ran a front page story about a prostitute who allegedly lied about having paid sex with the footballer David Beckham.2 The language gives the game away. The woman could have been called a 'prostitute', or 'lady of the night but instead the paper used the terms \"tart\", \"harlot\", \"squirmer\" and \"hooker\", who leads a life of \"vice shame\" - all derogatory terms. And Beckham is portrayed as an innocent hero who would give away all of the £16 million he claimed in damages to a sick children's charity. It transpires that the prostitute in question is Bosnian and David Beckham, of course, is the hero who represented England in so many international football games. The reader is being encouraged to hate the prostitute in the same way that any group of bullies will pick on one individual. The reader will unconsciously feel they have risen slightly on the ladder of social esteem; if they can look down on the prostitute, the implication is that the reader is more worthy of social esteem, and that, as we know, is a powerful drug.\n\nThe use of the common enemy effect is rife in many papers. If it's not prostitutes being vilified, it's immigrants, or welfare scroungers, or merchant bankers, or dodgy celebrities, failed football coaches or corrupt politicians. We, the readers, are often little better in our personal morality, but that doesn't matter. We get a powerful drug injected into our veins every time a paper tells us how terrible somebody else is. And often it isn't the really bad people in our world who are attacked. If we can demonise somebody who is claiming some moral high ground then so much the better. This is why papers love to attack people such as fallen clergy, maybe priests who have sinned, or high flying celebrities who fall foul of prurient gossip. Environmentalists, as we know, receive plenty of this bullying when certain psychopathic and occasionally famous climate change deniers bring them down with tired clichés such as 'tree huggers'. Environmentalists, who may legitimately claim a degree of moral high ground, are a perfect target for psychopathic journalists. If the journalist can bring them down with nasty lies, then we can all steal the high ground and get the social esteem which we desperately crave.\n\nAfter a person has read a biased paper for a period of years, unhealthy neural pathways will be strongly reinforced and, before long, the reader doesn't know what is real and what is not. The readers will eventually exist in a bubble of delusion, which for them seems entirely real. They will come to believe strongly that their political opponents are thoroughly bad people, as that's what their paper said. When their opponent says something truthful, it may contradict what they read in their paper, and so the deluded reader will simply assume the opponent is lying: as they are bad, they are bound to lie! If the reader of a right wing paper sees a left wing paper which is publishing the truth, it may conflict with what they learned in the right wing paper. Instead of following reality and realising that the right wing paper had lied, the deluded reader will use it as evidence for bias in the left wing media.\n\n##  Reinforcing Unhealthy Social Norms\n\nMost media have to reinforce social norms, even when the norms are unhealthy. If they don't reinforce the mental illnesses of their audience, the audience goes somewhere else and the newspaper, TV program or website will have its life-blood taken away.\n\nFor example, cookery programmes on television have to promote the eating of meat. Most of the audience are meat eaters and they demand that the programmes reflect that. So again there is a vicious cycle: the mentally unhealthy audience demands an unhealthy programme which reinforces the ill health of the audience, and breaking into this cycle of mental illness is difficult indeed. When the pop star Lady Gaga wore a dress made from meat, the media didn't complain at all, In fact they rewarded her with a great deal of valuable coverage. Had it been made from human flesh they would, of course, have been up in arms, but the fact that they didn't question the morality of the clothing demonstrates the speciesism which predominates in the media. Similarly, the BBC was happy to air the programme _Lambing Live_ in the spring of 2011 which looked at lambing time in the British countryside.3 The show had an air of joy and wonder about it but there was no mention that all those baby lambs would eventually be murdered and their corpses eaten. A mythic reality about animal welfare was proliferated on the show. Even the supposedly balanced BBC are at times infected with mental disorders.\n\nThis cycle of delusion and ill health exists too in the book publishing industry. If you go to a high street bookstore, you will most likely find a great deal of shelf space taken up by New Age books selling delusions about astrology, Wicca magic, Tarot cards and so on. The publishers may not themselves ascribe to these superstitious and harmful beliefs, but they still sell the books. Why? Because they make money. Selling mental illness like this is a profitable occupation. And the more delusional books they sell, the more deluded become the audience, who seek out ever more crazy literature in a self-perpetuating cycle of mental illness. In fact, people like being deluded, and the publishers like people to be deluded. Deluded readers gain false hopes from irrational beliefs, and publishers make money by preying on people's naivety. Again, publishers such as these really ought to be prosecuted and closed down for deliberately harming the mental health of their readership. When it comes to superstitions promoted in books, there is a fitness benefit for the publishers who gain the money to control resources and a fitness cost for the superstitious readers, who will fail to properly navigate their lives and will suffer as a consequence. The publishers of such books then, are guilty of psychopathic behaviour.\n\nThe vicious cycle of media insanity exists on the Internet as well. The search engine Google, for example, uses a system whereby the largest websites with the most inward links are awarded the highest positions on the search results page. Google pays no heed as to whether the website is truthful or inaccurate, benevolent or malicious, mentally healthy or otherwise. Consequently, the most popular and well established sites will go to the top, where they gain more traffic and ultimately more links in a self-reinforcing cycle. We know by now that mental disorders are the norm rather than the exception, so some unhealthy sites will rise to the top purely because they represent the norms of popular thinking. For example, if you Google 'God', seventeen of the eighteen first page search results (including sponsored results) promote the concept of God, helping to generate the mental illness delusion. If you Google 'meat', then fourteen of the fifteen first page search results promote meat eating, encouraging psychopathy. Googling 'astrology' returns thirteen sites which promote this delusional superstition and only one, Wikipedia, which mentions that it may be a false belief. If you Google 'truth' you will get search results which include a good number of conspiracy sites which claim the truth but in fact spread harmful delusions. If you search for 'mental illness' you will not get any idea of the true nature of mental illness as described in this book. The Internet reinforces social norms regardless of whether those norms are healthy or not. In June 2011 I searched for 'genetic psychopathy' and found a mere 412 references to the phrase, demonstrating an alarming ignorance about what is (by a clear mile) the biggest problem to face the world.\n\nThe shocking truth about global mental illness then, is rarely to be found in the papers, on television, radio, on the Internet or in books.\n\n##  Scope for Improvement\n\nThere are moments where the media encourage people to lead healthier lives, for example by staging occasional events which praise people who have done something good in the world. _The Pride of Britain Awards_ are one such example. It sends out a strong message that social esteem can be acquired by acting on good conscience. Such things certainly need to be expanded on.\n\nI suspect given _The Sun_ newspaper's often jingoistic pieces which encourage national pride, the paper may once have offered a place of refuge to nationalist racists. Encouragingly, in July 2004, the newspaper did deny them a safe haven. After the BBC aired a television documentary exposing racist hatred within the British National Party, _The Sun_ brought the party down to size, running with the front page headline \"BNP – Bloody Nasty People.\"4 With a few instances such as this the media may chip away at the destructive social norms, and encourage decency.\n\nThere are other examples of healthy media, for example _The Guardian_ takes a responsible slant on the issue of climate change. But this book is about the mental problems of the world, and the media are significantly contributing to the global catastrophic disorder.\n\nThe cure for mental illness is truth, but the truth is often unpalatable (as the reader will have noticed whilst reading this book). People typically don't want moral truths, even though they certainly need them. Consequently, newspapers, TV programmes, books and websites which publish unsavoury but vital truths are likely to be quite unpopular.\n\nZab was wrapping up the latest session.\n\n\"So the media wield an enormous amount of power in your world. Sometimes that is for the good, sometimes for bad, depending on the state of mental health of the people doing the publishing. It is a place where the passing on of memes is most active.\"\n\n\"Memes? What are memes?\"\n\n\"Okay, well a meme is a sort of unit of cultural currency. It is an idea which can be passed on from mind to mind between _Homo sapiens._ For example, a method for making a clay pot can be a meme, which is passed on by people teaching other people. Or a new word can be a meme, which is passed on through copying speech, or in the media. A handshake is a meme which is passed on by imitation.\"\n\n\"Okay, go on.\"\n\n\"There are useful memes, like the ones I just mentioned, but there are also harmful memes. For example some of the memes passed on in religion are harmful. Like the men we saw who were trying to predict the future by killing a chicken,\" Zab clarified some more.\n\n\"Right, well what does all this have to do with my therapy and saving the planet?\" Hugh's map didn't have this information in it yet.\n\n\"Well, all that we have been doing in therapy is me giving you memes. All this stuff about being objective, building self awareness, listening to your conscience, embracing guilt, using anger constructively, these are all memes. Therapy is about passing on constructive memes. And at the same time we need to eliminate the harmful memes. The memes form part of your mental map which we need to make sure reflects reality as closely as possible.\"\n\n\"Okay, I can see that. Well, then don't we need to know what these memes are so we can pass them on, or stop them if they're bad?\" said Hugh.\n\n\"We do. Therapeutic memes are passed on in psychology text books, and  training courses, and also from the therapist to the client during therapy. So we can write them down or speak them.\"\n\n\"So, let's write some down then, let's get ourselves organised and create this text book on therapy so we can give it to the world!\" Hugh was eagerly creating new solutions in this session.\n\n\"That's really good Hugh. You have a good idea. And actually, I've been working a bit towards that since we first met, in my notebook.\"\n\n\"Oh. Well, can I see?\"\n\n\"Shortly, but why don't you do a little work yourself on this. Make a few notes and bring them to me in a week or two, and we will compare what we have figured out.\"\n\nZab brought the session to an end and made a note in his little black note book, the book with the chalice on the front.\n\nThe links to share and discuss this book on Facebook and Twitter are at::\n\nwww.TheShrinkFromPlanetZob.com.\n\n# 21 Dispensing Global Psychotherapy\n\nHugh came in to Zab's consulting room with a small pile of papers and placed them on Zab's desk.\n\n\"Excellent,\" said Zab. \"that's a good stack of notes, I'm sure there's plenty there we can use. I've been doing a little research too.\" Zab gestured over to a purple box on his desk which had images of people's faces flashing up on a screen. \"This is our Meme Acquisition Unit. I've been probing the minds of a few million _Homo sapiens_ and I've borrowed from them some of their memes. So if we use your memes, a few of mine and a few from your fellow _Homo sapiens_ we should have plenty to fill a book for you.\"\n\nThe two of them spent the next couple of days comparing notes and compiling a list of memes for Hugh to work with. When they were satisfied with the list, they brought their work together in one small book, bound as Zab's notebook was with black fabric, gold embossed lettering and a picture of a chalice. They gave the book the title _The Book of Memes._\n\nWhen the work was done, Zab handed the book to Hugh. Hugh held it for a moment and looked at the chalice and wondered where this innocent little book was going to take him. He flicked through the pages, stopped at a random meme and read it out loud:\n\n\"Change only takes place through action. Not through prayer, or meditation, but through action _.\"_ Hugh looked up at Zab, and Zab smiled.\n\n\"Ah yes, I borrowed that one from the brain of the Dalai Lama. Nice man. A good place to start I'd say,\" said Zab. \"Let's think about how we're going to introduce the memes. We need a plan of action...\"\n\nAnd action is what we need to think about as we draw to the end of this handbook on global psychotherapy. We have to make mental health a reality in the world. What are the actions which an ordinary person like Hugh Manitee can take to change the world?\n\nHugh is not a politician or famous, he doesn't run a huge corporation or charity but he can still make a difference. He has to: there is no other option. The GCD is so big Hugh has to solve it. Small actions can add up to make a big difference. As Gandhi said: \"What you do will be insignificant, but it is important that you do it.\" So here are a few guiding notes for the Hugh Manitee's out there who want to heal the GCD.\n\n## Get Some Therapy!\n\nAs we know, the world needs therapy. We have seen how it is often the ordinary people who require therapy, not just the ones who are normally deemed to be mentally ill. That means you, me, and everybody. Therapy can be in a formal setting with a therapist, and may help anybody wishing to grow and to clarify their lives or to find a greater sense of purpose. Therapy will enable you to see more clearly the truth of what is out there. It can teach you to cope with challenging people and it may make you a better person. If you go down this route, take time to find the right therapist for you. If you try one and things feel they are not going well, do not be afraid to find a different therapist. But equally, be aware that therapists often challenge their clients. On moral issues, particularly, clients may feel threatened and wish to terminate therapy in order to escape the painful moral truths which the therapist sometimes reveals.\n\nBut therapy doesn't have to be with an accredited therapist. Anything which helps us to grow is a form of therapy. That could come from interacting with healthy people. We saw how therapy is a kind of love which is guided by truth. Spending time with loving and rational people can bring about therapeutic results which are dramatically effective. Conversely, cruel and irrational people can damage our mental health, so choose carefully whose opinions you listen to, or even who you spend your time with. Be with decent, healthy people and your own mental health will prosper.\n\nThere is also plenty of useful information in the media which can help us through the therapeutic process. Self help books are readily available which address all kinds of issues such as depression, anxiety, drug abuse, bereavement and every other mental disorder. There are also websites which can be useful and a few magazines. Steer clear of material which is not grounded and rational: exploring superstitions like angel therapy or 'magick' is not going to help your mental health. There is little information available which covers mental health in the manner that this book has done, so the reader may find it beneficial to read through once again, to help clarify the issues raised.\n\nTherapy can be a challenging process. We can make it easier when we... _want to change._ This well-worn adage is worn because it is so fundamental to therapy. During therapy the client may feel foolish or ashamed, just as Hugh did in our story, and these feelings may drive the client to run away from the therapy. We can ease this by admitting that we don't know everything and that we may have been wrong. It's okay to have been wrong. Refusing to climb the ladder of social esteem helps us to be receptive to therapy. If we can put our wrong-doings into the past we may be able to overcome the shame. If we know we have changed and improved we can still hold on to our self esteem and so more willingly embrace change.\n\n_Take it easy!_ Growth often has to be a slow process. Don't become overwhelmed by pushing yourself too fast and don't get bogged down in information about mental illness. It can be a confusing and sometimes disturbing area to work in, so if researching mental health is disturbing to you, then maybe back off. Get the right information in the right degree.\n\nIt takes courage to go through therapy. Have courage, but don't be down on yourself if you find it difficult.\n\n##  Become a Psychotherapist\n\nOne of the reasons it is important to go through therapy is so that you can become a therapist yourself. That may be as an accredited therapist, or it may be in the sense of a lay person who offers informal therapeutic help to others. It is not the accreditation which is important: it is the reality of whether you are helping another person to grow. And consequently your client may be any person whose mental development you are benefitting.\n\nIt is, as we know, standard procedure for formally trained therapists to go through therapy before they start to practice. This is in order that they can heal their delusions, neuroses and personality disorders. If therapists do not heal themselves first, there is a risk they will pass on their disorders to their clients.\n\nThere are formal training courses available to learn about therapy or counselling and the reader may be encouraged to try one of these. Be warned that brief correspondence courses in counselling do not provide thorough training as would a lengthier formal course with one to one supervision.\n\nReading good literature can also help when learning how to give therapy. The book which helped me the most was _The Road Less Travelled: The New Psychology of Love, Traditional Values and Spiritual_ Growth by M. Scott-Peck, but feel bold enough to put aside the occasional supernatural ideas in the book.1 There are plenty of other such books on the market.\n\nIn giving therapy, act as a therapist would. A therapist must demonstrate impeccable personal behaviour, showing complete respect for all those around. Therapists will never resort to offensive language, sarcasm or other questionable actions. The method of _person centred counselling_ recognises this, and instructs counsellors to be guided by three main principles. They are:\n\n**\\- Unconditional positive regard:** Always be on the client's side, and accept the client in a non-judgemental manner. Never harm the client with either words or deeds and always be willing to allow the client to redeem themselves however questionable their previous behaviour may have been.\n\n**\\- Congruence.** Be true in word and deed. Let your words mirror precisely your thoughts. Never lie. Be as honest as you can with the client, bearing in mind that there will be times when the truth has to be withheld from the client for their own benefit.\n\n**\\- Empathy.** We know how fundamental empathy is to counteracting psychopathy. Demonstrate this to all clients, all of the time. Use imagination to feel their feelings and explain your sharing of the clients' feelings. The therapist's empathy may ultimately encourage the clients to become more empathetic themselves.\n\nThere are plenty of techniques which the therapist will learn to make therapy more effective and rapid. For example, saying \"you're wrong\" will elicit plenty of resistance in clients. It will touch on the shame and narcissism in the client, making them feel foolish and bossed around. Consequently they would be more inclined to argue with the therapist. It would be better for the therapist to say, \"Hmm, I found that...\" offering an alternative perspective. Re-framing is a common technique in therapy, whereby a similar situation is described to the client which mirrors the client's experience. Using this, the therapist can avoid bruising the client's ego and so may reduce resistance. For example, a third party could be praised in front of the client for some moral action, and the client may come to associate morality with praise and so want to change themselves.\n\nGently praising clients who change will help to reinforce the therapeutic process. Praising the client to a third party, in front of the client can be particularly effective.\n\nUse the word 'we' when talking about moral issues to avoiding initiating the shame and narcissistic responses. For example saying \"we often make mistakes\" is more effective than \"you often make mistakes.\" Using the word 'we' will utilise the similarity principle, which as we read previously helps to diminish narcissism.\n\nRemember that people are predisposed to have selfish, psychopathic traits. Forgive people for this and avoid the temptation to punish. They are, after all, human, just like us.\n\nThink about who your clients are. One perspective is that everyone should be a client. Giving therapy can become a natural part of many aspects of life. But equally avoid the temptation to ram therapy down people's throats. Often people don't want therapy, even if they may need it, and they can resent unwelcome therapeutic advances. Be loving and truthful with people and that may be enough to allow the therapy to flow naturally.\n\nKnow your limitations. Psychology and therapy are complicated subjects and not even the most highly trained therapists know everything there is to know. The wrong information at the wrong time can do more harm than good, so take it easy with people. Avoid the temptation to diagnose people you meet in life; diagnosis takes much training. And **do not tell people they are psychopaths!** The clinical definition of psychopath is, as I have already stated, different to the meaning of psychopath which I have used throughout this book. There are few clinical psychopaths: I have used the term psychopath to describe anybody who does anything immoral, which amounts to pretty much all of us.\n\nFinally, remember that the psychiatrist Scott-Peck said an untrained but loving and rational individual can achieve therapeutic results as good as any highly trained therapist. On becoming a therapist then, focus on love and truth. Be totally compassionate towards those to whom you give therapy. And equally, be totally objective. Keep to reality, even if it is unexpected.\n\n## Engage With Reality\n\nReality is what mental health is all about. We need to make sure everybody's minds closely mirror reality, and to do that we need to first discipline ourselves and make sure our own minds mirror reality.\n\nBe as objective as possible. See clearly what is in front of you and question the observations. Ask yourself: is there an illusion going on –  is my perception accurate? What delusional trap may I be heading towards? To be good therapists we need to be good scientists. We need to explore and apply truth as accurately as possible, just as any other scientist would do.\n\nQuestion people before believing them. Is the person a reliable and rational witness? Are they mentally ill in some way – deluded perhaps? Are they scrupulous or do they have an ulterior motive which is making them lie? We know how prevalent genetic psychopathy is, so is that influencing the person and causing them to deviate from truth and decency?\n\n## Lead by Example\n\nBeing perfect isn't easy! But leading a decent life can help solve the GCD in two ways. Firstly, in the physical world it will bring about the changes which will reduce suffering.\n\nIf we want to see an end to poverty, we need to act and give what we can to the poor, consuming less for ourselves.\n\nIt is important to care for the environment, for example by recycling and using public transport, turning the heating down, or fitting solar panels.\n\nWhen it comes to animal rights, most of us can take steps to reduce the suffering. Meat eaters could perhaps start by taking part in the Meat-Free Monday campaign.\n\nIn order to bring the world towards peace, we have to live it. That does not just mean an end to physical violence, but we have to eliminate verbal violence from our lives as well. If we are aggressive, inevitably people will copy our aggression, and that can lead to wars between individuals or ultimately even between countries.\n\nIt is crucial that we all take these actions, even if they seem too small to matter, they will add up if everyone takes action and these physical changes are the only way the world can be saved.\n\nLeading by example also benefits our world by helping to pass on memes. There are few things that people dislike more than a hypocrite. And if we, by giving therapy, teach morality but don't live it, then our clients will simply reject what we are saying. To change other people's behaviour it is essential to change our own first. People will then be encouraged to adopt healthy behaviour and the GCD may be tackled.\n\n## Change How You Work\n\nAside from personal changes, most of us have the opportunity to change our work environment. We might encourage our workplace to offer recycling bins, or maybe set up a lift sharing scheme to cut down on CO2 production. Perhaps if you work in a food outlet, you might encourage the business to offer more variety of vegetarian and vegan food.\n\nIf your business is eco-friendly it can be a good selling point, so be sure to advertise the fact.\n\n## Be Spiritual\n\nSpirituality is not about drifting into a supernatural realm; we have shown that to be of no use. Spirituality is all about connecting _with_ reality. Spiritual growth is mental growth, and so the therapeutic process, in promoting mental growth, is the ultimate spiritual experience. Do not underestimate the joy and wonder which can come from living this one true spirituality.\n\nMake truth your religion, perhaps seeing the universe as your God. When we follow the truth, concepts such as love, God and faith start to make sense: none of them are supernatural. When you have faith, have faith in the truth. Have faith in the therapeutic process.\n\nWe learned how to be a humanistic messiah, and that is what we all need to become. We need to give our love to heal the entire world by practising humanistic psychotherapy. Be a messiah, but remain grounded. We are all the same, none of us is more special than anyone else, so be careful not to tread over the line into theomania. Be one of nearly seven billion messiahs. You may not be the one to single-handedly save the planet, but that doesn't matter, we all still need to contribute.\n\nAnd remember, whether there's an afterlife or not, the solution to life is still to live with compassion, truth and love. If there is an afterlife then you will be rewarded there. If there is no afterlife, then you will have benefitted yourself and other life in the here and now.\n\n## Connect With Others\n\nIn order to save our planet, we need to influence others and encourage them to grow by offering them therapeutic guidance. That means at some point we will have to connect with them.\n\nWe can connect with the people in our everyday lives and influence them by leading through example and by passing on our useful information –  our memes – when we communicate with them.\n\nBut we can go further than this. If we can pass on the memes to millions of people instead of tens, then the cure for the GCD will come all the sooner. So we need to find ways to reach out to more people.\n\nOne way to reach a wider audience is to use the media.\n\nDon't underestimate how easy it is to access the newspapers. A letter to an editor can be in the paper the next day and will pass on memes to tens of thousands or maybe even millions of people. Longer articles, written in an engaging and objective manner, can easily find their way into papers or magazines. Learn what kinds of articles get published. Often local publications are looking for a local slant on a national or global issue. For example, I was concerned about climate change when I noticed a shop in my home town had its front door propped open in the middle of winter, wasting valuable heat. I stole the door-stop and headed straight to my local paper. The next day I was front page news, with a photo of me and the doorstop, promoting awareness on climate change. So think about quirky angles like that which can make people think. Be bold!\n\nNewspapers and magazines will often publish well informed articles and may even pay you for the privilege.\n\nYou might, if you have the aptitude or the inclination, feel inclined to put your work together in a book. Every healthy book out there is going to help the cure come sooner, so it is worth considering doing this. Think about what method of publishing will reach the largest audience.\n\nAnd of course, now we have the Internet, which offers plenty of opportunities to spread healthy memes. Articles which we make available online are visible to potentially millions of people who can find them by searching keywords. Blogging websites provide facilities to do this free of charge, and often blogs come high up on the rankings for search engine results. Think about how to get high positions on the rankings. You will need to use keywords which stand out and which people are looking for and longer pieces are more likely to be found than small articles. There is no excuse not to get writing, and if you do you may find it a highly rewarding and addictive hobby.\n\nYou may be inclined to set up your own website. This is easier than you think and there is plenty of software available off the shelf for people who want to build their own. Hosting fees and domain registration may cost around £40 per annum (around US $60) and there are even webhosting companies which offer free hosting for simple sites. Again large sites with colourful textual content gain more visitors. As you continue to write, your site may grow until it becomes an authority to millions of people.\n\nThere are opportunities to pass memes on with video through free websites such as Youtube. Successful videos may spread virally to reach a large audience.\n\nThe Internet is a great place to network with other like minded people. Your own website could be the place to gather email addresses for mail-shots, or where you can offer a social networking facility.\n\nSocial network sites such as Facebook and MySpace provide free facilities for running groups and fan pages. I run a number of these for different aspects to my campaign work. These groups are useful if you get a call to take part in an online petition. Then you can post the link to the petition site onto the group pages and also onto your personal profile, and one signature can be multiplied many times. 'Friending' like-minded people on Facebook can be a way to grow a network of sympathetic campaigners.\n\nSometimes it is advantageous to set up new groups, but be cautious. There are plenty of other groups out there which may be better to join. For example, Friends of the Earth provides excellent support and training for its campaigning members. If you represent an established group such as Friends of the Earth, you will find that the media pay more attention to you and accessing publications, radio and television becomes a lot easier.\n\nSet about lobbying key people to come on board with change. Politicians, of course, are important targets to influence. Write letters or emails to them, or meet them in person, whenever you feel the need. If they don't know what the public are thinking they may carry on with unhealthy behaviour.\n\nFamous people are a legitimate target for influence. You may find celebrities who are on board with a particular issue, and so they may be encouraged to speak out on the issue if you send them a letter.\n\nThere are other key players who need to be approached, sometimes from the business world. For example, directors of supermarkets can be approached to ask them to reduce packaging on their products.\n\nStay in touch with Dr Zab! The therapeutic approach to healing the world will need support. Come along and join the movement at the website www.TheShrinkFromPlanetZob.Com and follow the links from there to _The Shrink from Planet Zob_ Facebook fan page.\n\n## Look After Yourself\n\nIf you want to save the planet, you need to save yourself too! Bringing therapy to the world can be hard work, and it's certainly a massive task, so keep yourself in good condition, both in body and mind.\n\nIf your body is fit, you will feel better in yourself, and that may be important in meeting challenges in bringing therapy to the planet. Stay fit!\n\nIt is particularly important to maintain a healthy mind for people who become global psychotherapists. Not only do you need to be free from delusions and psychopathy, but you also need to keep your spirits up. Saving the planet is a demanding task and will inevitably bring you into conflict with genetic psychopathy. It is certain to happen, and as we know psychopathic people will cause us stress and anxiety. Stay on top of the stress and don't push yourself too far. People have different resilience to stress. You may be one of those who can endure a lot, which is sure to help. But if stress from the job gets to you, learn to manage it. Read up on stress management. Try approaches to global psychotherapy which do not attract so much persecution and avoid personal conflict where possible.\n\nThe planet's problems are big, but don't be overwhelmed. The surest way for the problems not to get fixed is if we give up on them before we've tried to solve them. Don't give up. Don't be daunted. Remember that futility thinking stops us from solving world poverty; don't fall into that trap. When things look too big to tackle, think small. If you know you have helped one person, or an animal, then that in itself can feel great.\n\nRemember psychologists have found that altruistic action stimulates the parts of the brain associated with pleasurable rewards. So campaigning for a better world can be very rewarding. Being one of the people who adds to the solution can bring with it a great sense of purpose and meaning to life. Think about how you would like to look back on your life when you are old. Do you want to think that you saw the problems and never did anything about them? Or would you like to look back knowing that you at least had a go at improving life on Earth? We only get one life, use it wisely.\n\nTake time off. Moderate your therapeutic work. If you become too obsessed with the problems of the world, you may try to do too much and that may not be sustainable. Don't become manic. Do avoid the risk of burning out. You are just as valuable as everyone else and you deserve to be happy. If you can spend time enjoying yourself, you will keep your spirits up and that will enable you to go on helping the world for another day. Don't underestimate how important it is for you to just have fun.\n\nWe have looked at lots of problems but, like Hugh in our story, we need to be balanced. Spend time enjoying the beauty in the world: a peacock's feather, an imposing mountain, an impressionist painting or a child's laughter. Enjoy our beautiful world, and that will help you stave off negative feelings, helping you to survive when times are tough and the problems look too big.\n\nCelebrate your successes. Whenever you make one step forward, love the experience. Smile, and give yourself a pat on the back. Take heart that you are one of the brave, compassionate and loving people in the world.\n\nFinally, as Winston Churchill once said, \"Never give in. Never, never, never, never.\" Take a break, sure, but never give in!\n\n\"Good!\" said Zab. This book should stand you in good stead for your return. Remember to keep adjusting the memes and use the blank sheets at the back to add to the book as you discover more. You must make sure that change is at the very heart of your work.\"\n\n\"I will,\" said Hugh. \"You know, I'm still uncertain about how I am actually going to pass on this meme therapy to the world.\"\n\n\"Remember we found the media was a place where the passing on of memes is very prolific. And remember the work needs to be done at all levels: media, political, educational, spiritual, personal and so on.\"\n\nAt that moment there was a knock at the door.\n\n\"Oh, come in Quark,\" said Zab.\n\nQuark entered the consulting room. \"It's ready sir. I finished it this morning and it's now ready to go live.\" She reached over to Zab's console, pressed a button, and the screen displayed some words in English and a picture of Hugh's book.\n\n\"What is it?\" said Hugh.\n\n\"Oh,\" said Zab. \"This was Quark's idea. And quite a good one, I think. She decided that a good place to inject our memes would be to use your Internet. This is Quark's present to you, she has made you a website.\"\n\nHugh leaned over and examined the front page. Hugh Manitee's book of memes was online. There were the memes he and Zab had acquired and new ones being created by other _Homo Sapiens._ There were discussions, books to download, including Hugh's own notes, and links to where people could find online therapy?. Hugh smiled a broad smile. \"It's brilliant! What's it called?\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Zab. \"We thought you might like to have the privilege of naming it. What do you think?\"\n\nHugh looked into his imagination. \"Well, something that sums up what I have to do next, I guess. Well, there's really only one thing it can be... _The Book of Memes_?\" he smiled towards Quark.\n\n\"Dot com?\" she said.\n\n\"Yes. The Book of Memes dot com,\" said Hugh, \"any good?\"\n\nQuark smiled. \"I like it. I'll set it up.\" She operated the console, and turned to Hugh. \"If you press this triangular button here, the site will go live.\"\n\nHugh looked at Zab and Quark, and pressed the button. The global psychotherapy had begun.\n\nZab wrote himself a reminder in his notebook: \"Remember to visit www.TheBookofMemes.com.\"\n\nThe links to share and discuss this book on Facebook and Twitter are at::\n\nwww.TheShrinkFromPlanetZob.com.\n\nAnd to see Hugh's website for meme therapy, visit:\n\nwww.TheBookOfMemes.com\n\n# 22 Back Down to Earth\n\nZab was in his consulting room when there was a knock at the door.\n\n\"That's strange,\" he thought, \"we don't have anything scheduled for today. Come in Hugh.\"\n\nHugh went in. \"Hello Zab.\" Hugh was quiet and looked a little down.\n\n\"Hello Hugh. You know we don't have a session don't you? We are about ready. Today is the day.\"\n\n\"Yes I know. I just wanted to... come and see you... have a little chat.\"\n\n\"That's okay. What would you like to chat about?\"\n\n\"Well...\" Hugh hesitated, \"I wanted to tell you what I think. About you I mean.\"\n\n\"Go on...\"\n\n\"Well, you're... I mean you've been... you've taught me things. A lot. I feel like I am a completely different person from when we first met. Things are the same, but somehow different, if you know what I mean.\"\n\n\"I know.\"\n\n\"And that's because of you.\" Hugh looked Zab in the eye.\n\n\"Don't be too modest Hugh. You have spent nearly a year doing a great deal of hard work. You looked at yourself, took criticism, you went through some very difficult changes. Remember you said therapy was the hardest thing you ever did. You have actually been very courageous and hard working. Give yourself some credit too.\"\n\nHugh let out a slight laugh. \"Anyway,\" he said. \"I just wanted to say thank you. I owe you a lot. I can't believe you travelled light years to help us out. And we're not even paying you! It's amazing. So... thank you.\"\n\n\"You're welcome.\"\n\nQuark came into the room.\n\n\"Hello Dr Zab, Hugh. We are ready to make the switch. The clone is at home with the family, if Hugh is ready?\" she said.\n\n\"Are you ready Hugh?\" said Zab. Hugh nodded and the three of them made their way to the transporter room.\n\nAs I sit at my desk writing this book, I look out of the window into my garden where a bird feeder is hanging from a tree. The other day there was a blue tit on the feeder, pecking away at the peanuts. A second blue tit arrived to feed. The first bird immediately lunged at the newcomer, flapping its wings and squawking, and the second bird was scared off. That aggressive blue tit was a genetic psychopath, selfishly trying to control a resource. This scenario precisely mirrors human behaviour. For the birds, the feeder was a huge resource which no single bird could ever need or even consume, but still they went to war over it. Just like the bird feeder, planet Earth has more than enough to provide for the needs of the world's human population, and just like the blue tits, most people are still stupidly fighting to consume more than they can ever justifiably need. It reminds me of Gandhi's words, \"The world has enough for everyone's need but not for everyone's greed.\"\n\nSo, there is a lot to do. This has been merely an introduction to global psychology, but we have seen how big and complicated the psychological processes are which dominate our world.\n\nWe started by reappraising what constitutes mental illness and we found that most conventional mental illnesses are caused by psychopathy in other people. We found that a sub-clinical form of psychopathy, which I called genetic psychopathy, is a global pandemic. It causes mental illnesses, crime, wars, poverty, environmental destruction, animal suffering and irrational religious beliefs. It damages our personal relationships, our cultures, our politics, education and media. The scale of the disorder is staggering: it is truly the biggest problem in the world, causing suffering on a vast scale. Just like a therapist, we have to cure ourselves of psychopathy first before we can see the disorder in others. We don't see psychopathy in others because most of us are ourselves infected; we think it is normal and acceptable.\n\nAdmittedly, this has been a rather damning appraisal of the mental health of humanity. Perhaps the reader is unconvinced. Perhaps I have seemed rather extreme in my view. But I am not the only one to see such ill health in humanity. The 'father of psychiatry' Sigmund Freud summed the situation up when he wrote to Oskar Pfister in 1918:1\n\nI have found little that is 'good' about human beings on the whole. In my experience most of them are trash, no matter whether they publicly subscribe to this or that ethical doctrine or to none at all... If we are to talk of ethics, I subscribe to a high ideal from which most of the human beings I have come across depart most lamentably.\n\nI'm not sure that I would go so far as saying people are \"trash\": I would rather say people are 'ordinary'. We need to be objective, as always, and recognise that there is usually good and bad in every person. Remember that when soldiers were not watched over by a commanding officer, one study found that only around twenty percent of them would shoot to kill. That doesn't sound like trash. There is a line from a well known song which applies well to the field of psychotherapy and that is, 'accentuate the positive: eliminate the negative.' We may be largely psychopathic, but the point is we are not totally psychopathic and we can do something about it.\n\nWe need to introduce therapy on a global scale. What is the scope for success? Hugh was healed, and he was the most ordinary _Homo sapien_ of course. So will that happen for ordinary _H_ _omo sapiens_ who read this book? Unfortunately, Hugh is merely a fictional character: most of us real _H_ _omo sapiens_ are overwhelmingly resistant to psychotherapy, particularly to attempts to heal our psychopathy.\n\nSo the truth is I don't know how or if we can solve the global catastrophic disorder. I have my doubts that we can: it is so big, and resistance is so strong. But there are occasional rays of hope.\n\nEurope is at peace after millennia of wars. Germany, which created so much suffering in war is now a peaceable nation, and gets on fine with countries such as France and Poland.\n\nWith the advent of political correctness, we have a new climate of respect and kindness towards people who we may previously have persecuted. For example, it wasn't long ago when anti-Irish jokes were prevalent in Britain, but now they are seldom, if ever heard.\n\nRacism still exists, but it is not as acceptable as it used to be. Even Abraham Lincoln, who helped to abolish slavery, was against black people having the vote, or marrying whites or being elected to office. He even said, \"I... am in favour of having the superior position assigned to the white race.\"2 In his day, those views were normal and accepted. Clearly we have moved on a long way from where Lincoln was.\n\nThere are advances regarding the environment. In the UK recycling has shifted in recent years from a fringe activity to a social norm. New wind farms keep being built, and climate change is an issue which is rarely out of the news.\n\nAnd we may be seeing the beginnings of the death of religion. Church attendances in the UK are waning and most British people do not ascribe to any particular faith. So there is hope.\n\nBut we are going to need far more radical changes in the future, and the fact of the matter is that the problem of genetic psychopathy looks bleak indeed.\n\nFor many people, this exposé of the nature of the human psyche will be radically different from their previous conceptions. Most of us are naive about the nature of psychopathy, and that is because most people are hiding the truth. Psychopaths hide the truth because they don't want the world to know how truly cruel and selfish they are. So they lie. They portray themselves as decent, upright people, they maintain their false selves and, in equal measure, they defame the people who are truly decent. But decent people also hide the truth. Decent people don't like to criticise the psychopaths, so they give the psychopaths the benefit of the doubt. Decent people are also modest about their own good values, downplaying their own sense of morality. So we have a situation where both the psychopaths and decent people are hiding the truth about psychopathy. Consequently most people are blissfully unaware of the scale of the problem. Indeed, we are _all_ the problem.\n\nIt may sound grim that we are all genetic psychopaths, but curiously we owe psychopathy a great debt of gratitude. Selfishness is a brilliant survival tool, and the bottom line is this: if evolution hadn't programmed us to be psychopaths, we wouldn't be here at all.\n\nThat said, psychopathy has served its use and we are no longer subject to the same survival challenges as the rest of life on Earth. Now, humanity is moving towards a new epoch: the epoch of cooperation. We have the intelligence and the technology to ensure that _all_ life on earth can prosper; we don't need to be genetic psychopaths any more. So we need to put psychopathy into our past and embrace change. As the world advances into new territory, with ever smarter technology, we need a new way of thinking. We need to create minds which can keep up with the world. And to change minds, global psychotherapy is the only solution.\n\nIn the transporter room Hugh stood with his little black book of memes ready to beam down to the planet surface. He shared a hug with Quark, said a thank you, and turned to Dr Zab. Hugh shook Zab's tentacle and they fell into a tight embrace.\n\n\"Thank you Zab.\" Hugh said through his tears. \"Thank you so much.\"\n\n\"That's all right. Good luck with the therapy.\"\n\nHugh's clone was in the kitchen making a cup of tea, Sheila and the children were in the lounge playing a game of cards. A droning hum came from the kitchen and the transporter room and the two Hugh's gently faded into each other's places.\n\nA few seconds later Hugh found himself home again, standing with a cup of tea in one hand and his book in the other. He heard his family laughing and he walked into the lounge.\n\nSheila got up and took the tea from Hugh. He looked at her eyes and a pang inside him made his heart jump. He gave her a gentle kiss on the lips, and she smiled.\n\n\"Are you all right Hugh?\" she asked. \"You seem a bit... pensive...\"\n\nHugh was broken from a momentary reverie.\n\n\"Oh,\" he said, \"I... well I suppose am.\"\n\n\"What's the book?\" said Sheila, taking the little black book from Hugh's hand.\n\n\"Oh... that. Well, it's just something I've been working on.\"\n\nShe read the title out loud. \" _The Book of Memes?_ What _have_ you been up to? What's this all about?\"\n\n\"Well, urrm, that could take a while.\"\n\n\"Hugh, are you okay? You seem a bit... different...\"\n\n\"I think I am,\" said Hugh.\n\nIn the ship, Dr Zab was ready to leave for planet Zob. He called Professor Dayv up to notify him of their departure.\n\n\"Good morning Dr Zab, how's things?\" said the professor.\n\n\"Quite good Professor. Hugh, our carrier, is back on his planet. He seems dedicated to the therapy.\"\n\n\"Very good. It always moves me Dr Zab. You know...\"\n\n\"What's that sir?\"\n\n\"The process... the client becomes the therapist.\"\n\n\"It _is_ moving sir. I felt... well, I felt a connection with Hugh Manitee,\" said Zab. \"He really is quite an extraordinary _Homo sapien.\"_\n\nThere we leave Hugh, Zab, Quark, Dayv, Sheila, the kids, the dog and the rest of planet Earth. I hope you enjoyed it. Below are the Notes I made, which some people will find useful. And below them are some great pages which MUST NOT BE MISSED!!! To go straight there click this: go to the interesting final pages...\n\nThe links to share and discuss this book on Facebook and Twitter are at::\n\nwww.TheShrinkFromPlanetZob.com.\n\n# Notes\n\n1 The Sectioning\n\n1 The outlines of symptoms of narcissism are derived from Sam Vakin, _Malignant Self Love - Narcissism Revisited_ , _4_ th _edition,_ Czech Republic: Narcissus Publications, 2003, and _Diagnostics and Statistics Manual 4_ th _Edition_ , American Psychiatric Association, 2000.\n\n2 The World's Most Ordinary Homo Sapien\n\n1  http://living.scotsman.com/music/A-darker-telling-of-the.2813443.jp.\n\n### 4 The Spectre of Resistance\n\n1 Kübler-Ross, E., On Death and Dying, Routledge, 1969.\n\n### 5 Nutters, Psychos and Lunatics\n\n1 www.nhs.uk.\n\n2  http://www.nhs.uk/Conditions/Schizophrenia/Pages/Introduction.aspx.\n\n_3 Mental Health and Social Exclusion,_ Social Exclusion Unit, Office of the Deputy Prime Minister, 2004.\n\n4 T.A. Fahy and J. Dunn, \" _Where Section 136 Fails\",_ Police Review, 95, 1987, pp. 1580-1.\n\n5  http://www.schizophrenia.com/prevention/streetdrugs.html.\n\n6  http://www.nhs.uk/Conditions/Stress/Pages/Causes.aspx.\n\n7 World Health Organisation, _The World Health Report 2001. Mental Health: New Understanding, New Hope_ , Geneva, World Health Organisation, 2001.\n\n8  http://www.independent.co.uk/sport/general/frank-bruno-it-could-happen-to-anyone-410442.html retrieved 9/5/2011.\n\n9  http://www.guardian.co.uk/media/2003/sep/23/pressandpublishing.mentalhealth.\n\n10 Ibid _._\n\n11 G. Ward, _Making Headlines_ : _Mental Health and the National Press,_ London: Health Education Authority, 1997.\n\n12 www.rethink.org.\n\n13 Unless otherwise stated all the quotes in this section are reproduced courtesy of _The Independent_ newspaper, from their webpage at  http://www.independent.co.uk/life-style/health-and-families/health-news/celebrity-on-the-couch-40-faces-of-depression-in-the-spotlight-419167.html.\n\n14 www.brianmay.com.\n\n15  http://news.softpedia.com/news/Depression-Lead-Dannii-Minogue-to-Botox-Addiction-122370.shtml.\n\n16 The originally quote is from www.thedailymail.co.uk, and was republished at  http://amy-winehouse.org/archive.php?subaction=showfull&id=1193337264&archive=1228558172&start_from=&ucat=1&.\n\n_17 The Collected Works of C.G. Jung_ , vol. 8, § 843, Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press.\n\n18 James Whitney Hick, _50 Signs of Mental Illness_ , Yale University Press, 2005.\n\n19  http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/02371a.htm retrieved 10/5/2011.\n\n_20 Mental Health and Social Exclusion,_ Social Exclusion Unit, Office of the Deputy Prime Minister, 2004.\n\n_21 Attitudes to Mental Illness,_ The Office for National Statistics, 2007.\n\n22 Ibid.\n\n23 Ibid.\n\n24 Ibid.\n\n25 Ibid.\n\n26 Ibid.\n\n_27 Mental Health and Social Exclusion,_ Social Exclusion Unit, Office of the Deputy Prime Minister, 2004.\n\n_28 Attitudes to Mental Illness_ , The Office for National Statistics, 2007.\n\n29 Ibid.\n\n30 Martha Stout, _The Sociopath Next Door: The Ruthless Versus the Rest of Us,_ Broadway Books, 2007, p. 8.\n\n### 6 An Ordinary Psychopath\n\n1 Robert D. Hare, _Without Conscience: The Disturbing World of the Psychopaths Among Us_ , The Guilford Press, 1999.\n\n2 Martha Stout in The Sociopath Next Door estimates the prevalence of psychopathy at 1 in 25 (p. 6); Paul Babiak and Robert D. Hare in Snakes in Suits (Collins Business, 2007), put it at around 1 in 100 (p. 177).\n\n3 Otto F. Kernberg, _Aggressivity, Narcissism, and Self-Destructiveness in the Psychotherapeutic Relationship: New Developments in the Psychopathology and Psychotherapy of Severe Personality Disorders_ , Yale University Press, 2004.\n\n4 See, for example, David K. Marcus, Siji L. John, John F. Edens, \"A Taxometric Analysis of Psychopathic Personality\", Journal of Abnormal Psychology, Vol. 113(4), Nov 2004, pp. 626-635.\n\n5 J.A. Kurland and S.J.C. Gaulin, Cooperation and Conflict Among Kin. In D. Buss (Ed.), The Handbook of Evolutionary Psychology, 2005, p. 448.\n\n6 I was unable to find a reference to this study. I suspect the findings weren't published as they were so alarming and, on a personal level, extremely sensitive for the staff and patients at the unit. I expect this particular mental health unit was little different to any other in respect to the findings.\n\n7 Robert D. Hare, _Without Conscience: The Disturbing World of the Psychopaths Among Us,_ The Guilford Press, 1999, p. 109.\n\n8 R. Hare, K. Strachan and A. Forth, \"Psychopathy and Crime: A Review,\" Clinical Approaches to Mentally Disordered Offenders, eds. K. Howells and C. Hollin, New York: Wiley, 1993; and S. Hart and R. Hare, \"Psychopathy: Assessment and Association with Criminal Conduct,\" Handbook of Antisocial Behavior, eds. D. Stoff, J. Breiling, and J. Maser, New York: Wiley, 1997. Also see Martha Stout, The Sociopath Among Us, p. 82.\n\n9 Robert D. Hare, _Without Conscience: The Disturbing World of the Psychopaths Among Us,_ The Guilford Press, 1999, p. 219.\n\n10Martha Stout, The Sociopath Next Door, p. 9.\n\n### 7 When Psychopaths Get Together\n\n1 Matthew White, Historical Atlas of the Twentieth Century, 2001.\n\n2 Gilbert Burnham, Riyadh Lafta, Shannon Doocy, and Les Roberts, The Lancet, October 11th, 2006.\n\n3  http://web.archive.org/web/20080604140842/http://www.vietnamwar.com/.\n\n4  The War's Costs,  http://www.digitalhistory.uh.edu/database/article_display.cfm?HHID=513.\n\n5 The World Bank, World Development Indicators, 2009.\n\n6 http://stats.oecd.org/qwids.\n\n_7 Ministry of Defence and Property Services Agency: Control and Management of the Trident Programme_.  National Audit Office. 29 June 1987.\n\n8  http://www.parliament.uk/documents/commons/lib/research/rp2006/rp06-053.pdf, p. 16.\n\n9 \"Legality of the Threat or Use of Nuclear Weapons\", Advisory Opinion of 8th July 1996, General List No. 95, 1995-1998.\n\n10 Adjusted to 2011 dollars from Paul Collier, The Bottom Billion, OUP Oxford, pp. 27, 32.\n\n11 Ibid.\n\n12 S.E. Asch, \"Effects of group pressure upon the modification and distortion of judgments\", in H. Guetzkow (ed.) Groups, leadership, and men, Pittsburgh, PA: Carnegie Press, 1951, pp. 177-190.\n\n13 S. Milgram, \"Behavioural Study of Obedience,\" Journal of Abnormal and Social Psychology 67 (1963), pp. 371-378. See also S. Milgram, Obedience to Authority: An Experimental View (New York: perennial, 1983), and T. Blass (ed.), Obedience to Authority; Current Perspectives on the Milgram Paradigm, Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates, 2000.\n\n14 Martha Stout, The Sociopath Next Door, p. 62.\n\n15 Bib Latané and John Darley, The Unresponsive Bystander, New York: Appleton-Century-Crofts, 1970, p. 58.\n\n16 Ibid., and Bib Latané and John Darley, The Unresponsive Bystander chapters 6 and 7.\n\n17 Brig. Gen. S.L.A. Marshall, \"Men Against Fire: The Problem of Battle Command in Future War,\" Gloucester, MA: Peter Smith, 1978, p.30.\n\n18 M. Sherif, O.J. Harvey, B.J. White, W.R. Hood, and C.W. Sherif, \"Intergroup Cooperation and Conflict: The Robber's Cave Experiment,\" Norman, OK: University of Oklahoma Book Exchange, 1961.\n\n19 H. Tajfel, M.G. Billig, R.P. Bundy, and C. Flament, \"Social Categorization and Intergroup Behaviour,\" European Journal of Social Psychology, 1(2), 1971, pp. 149-178.\n\n20 Lawrence LeShan, The Psychology of War: Comprehending its Mystique and its Madness, Helios Press, US, 2002, p. 7.\n\n21 P. Watson, War on the Mind: The Military Uses and Abuses of Psychology, New York, Basic Books, 1978, p. 250]\n\n22 Lawrence LeShan, The Psychology of War: Comprehending its Mystique and its Madness, Helios Press, US, 2002.\n\n23 Martha Stout, The Sociopath Next Door, p. 67.\n\n24  http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2003/feb/11/pressandpublishing.usa\n\n25 Gilbert Burnham, Riyadh Lafta, Shannon Doocy, and Les Roberts, The Lancet, October 11th, 2006.\n\n### 8 The Growth of Conscience\n\n1 Helen Block Lewis, _Shame and Guilt in Neurosis_ , New York: International Universities Press, 1971.\n\n2 J.P. Tangney, \"Shame and Guilt\", in C.G. Costello (ed.), _Symptoms of Depression_ , New York: Wiley, 1993, pp. 161-180.\n\n3 C.R. Rogers, _On Becoming a Person._ Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1961.\n\n4 June Price Tangney and Ronda L. Dearing, _Shame and Guilt_ , The Guilford Press, 2003, p. 79.\n\n5 J.P. Tangney \"Moral affect: The good, the bad and the ugly\", _Journal of Personality and Social Psychology,_ 61, 1991, pp. 598-607.\n\n6 June Price Tangney and Ronda L. Dearing, _Shame and Guilt_ , The Guilford Press, 2003, pp. 123-4.\n\n### 9 Poor Homo Sapiens\n\n1 Deppa Narayan, with Raj Patel, Kai Schafft, Anne Rademacher and Sarah Koch-Schulte. _Voices of the Poor. Can Anyone Hear Us?_ Published by the World Bank by Oxford University Press, New York, 2000.\n\n2 Peter Singer, _The Life You Can Save,_ p. 7.\n\n3 Ibid.\n\n4 Ibid., p. _x_.\n\n5 Ibid., p. _xiii._\n\n6 United Nations, Office of the High Representative for the Least Developed Countries, Landlocked Developing Countries and the Small Island Developing States, and World Bank, World Bank Development Data Group, \"Measuring Progress in Least Developed Countries: A Statistical Profile\" (2006), tables 2 and 3, pp. 14-15. Available at www.un.org/ohrlls/.\n\n7 United Nations Development Program, _Human Development Report 2000,_ New York: Oxford University Press, 2000, p. 30; _Human Development Report 2001,_ New York: Oxford University Press, pp. 9-12, p. 22; and World Bank, _World Development report 2000/2001,_ overview, p. 3,  www.worldbank.org/poverty/wdrpoverty/report/overview.pdf, for the other figures. The _Human Development reports_ are available at http://hdr.undp.org.\n\n8 WHO Weekly Epidemiology Record, 4th December 2009 http://www.who.int/wer/2009/wer8449/en/index.html.\n\n9 2007 Human Development Report (HDR), United Nations Development Program, November 27, 2007, p.25.\n\n10 http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/europe/8109698.stm.\n\n11 Food and Agriculture Organization Economic and Social Development Department. \"The State of Food Insecurity in the World, 2008 : High food prices and food security - threats and opportunities\". Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations, 2008, p. 2.\n\n12 Jean Ziegler, \"Promotion And Protection Of All Human Rights, Civil, Political, Economic, Social And Cultural Rights, Including The Right To Development: Report of the Special Rapporteur on The Right to Food\", Human Rights Council of the United Nations, January 10th, 2008.\n\n13 Jean Ziegler \"The Right to Food: Report by the Special Rapporteur on the Right to Food,\" Submitted in Accordance with Commission on Human Rights Resolution 2000/10\", United Nations, February 7, 2001, p. 5.\n\n14 Food and Agriculture Organization Staff, \"The State of Food Insecurity in the World, 2002: Food Insecurity : when People Live with Hunger and Fear Starvation\", Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations, 2002, p. 6.\n\n15  www.globalissues.org/article/26/poverty-facts-and-stats.\n\n16  http://www.rice.edu/energy/research/poverty&energy/index.html.\n\n17 Millennium Development Goals Report 2007.\n\n18 UNICEF, \"The State of the World's Children,\" 1999.\n\n19 \"State of the World,\" Issue 287, February 1997 _New Internationalist._\n\n20 The United Nations Human Development Report, 2006.\n\n21 James B. Davies, Susanna Sandstrom, Anthony Shorrocks and Edward N. Wolff, _The World Distribution of Household Wealth,_ Worldwide Institute for Development Economics Research of the United Nations University, Helsinki, December 2006.\n\n22 Paul Collier, _The Bottom Billion_ p. 9.\n\n23 See World Bank Key Development Data & Statistics, World Bank, 2008 and Luisa Kroll and Allison Fass, \"The World's Richest People,\" Forbes, March 3rd, 2007.\n\n24 Surjit Bhalla, \"Imagine There's No Country: Poverty, Inequality, and Growth in the Era of Globalization,\" Institute for International Economics, (USA), particularly Section I.1, 2002.\n\n25 Based on World Bank data as of March 3rd, 2008.\n\n26 \"Debt - The facts,\" _New Internationalist,_ Issue 312 - May 1999.\n\n27 \"The State of Human Development,\" United Nations Human Development Report 1998, chapter 1, p. 37.\n\n28 \"Obesity and overweight,\" World Health Organization,  http://www.who.int/mediacentre/factsheets/fs311/en/index.html.\n\n29 O.W. James, _Affluenza – How to be Successful and Stay Sane,_ London, Vermilion, 2008. John De Graaf, David Wann and Thomas H. Naylor, _Affluenza: The All Consuming Epidemic._ Berrett-Koehler, 2nd edition, 2005.\n\n30 T. Kasser et al., \"A Dark Side of the American Dream: Correlates of Financial Success as a Central Life Aspiration,\" _Journal of Personality and Social Psychology_ , 65, 1993, pp. 410-22.\n\n31 G.C. Williams et al., \"Extrinsic Life Goals and Health Risk in Adolescents, \" _Journal of Applied Social Psychology,_ 30, 2002, pp. 1756-71.\n\n32 P. Cohen et al., _Life Values and Adolescent Mental Health,_ New Jersey, Erlbaum, 1996.\n\n33 T. Kasser et al., \"Early Family Experiences and Adult Values: A 26 Year Prospective Longitudinal Study,\" _Personality and Social Psychology Bulletin_ , 28, 2002, pp. 18-21.\n\n34 Andrea Gerlin, \"A Simple Solution,\" _Time,_ October 8, 2006.\n\n35 UNICEF, \"Immunisation Plus: The Big Picture,\"  www.unicef.org/immunization/index_bigpicture.html.\n\n36 William Easterly, _The White Man's Burden,_ New York: The Penguin Press, 2006, p. 252.\n\n37 Based on the non-profit organisation GiveWell's assessment of the work done by the charity Population Services International.\n\n38 Peter Singer, _The Life You Can Save,_ p. 101. Converted originally from Australian dollars and adjusted for inflation to 2011 US dollars.\n\n39 William Easterly, _The White Man's Burden,_ London: Penguin, 2007, p.4.\n\n40 See _OECD Statistical Annex of the 2007 development Co-operation Report,_ www.oecd.org/dataoecd/52/9/1893143.xlsd, fig. 1e.\n\n_41 Giving USA 2008,_ pp. 9-14, 40; Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development, Statistical Annex of the 2007 Development Coordination Report Table 7e.\n\n42 Peter Singer, _The Life You Can Save_ , p. 142.\n\n43 See UN Millennium Project, _Investing in Development: A Practical Plan to Achieve the Millenium Development Goals,_ New York: Earthscan, 2005, chapter 17, www.unmillenniumproject.org/reports.\n\n44 Peter Singer, _The Life You Can Save,_ pp. 164-5.\n\n45 Adapted from a similar re-telling, reported in Peter Singer, _The Life You Can Save_ , p. 13.\n\n46 D.A. Small, G. Loewenstein and P. Slovic, \"Sympathy and Callousness: The Impact of Deliberative thought on Donations to Identifiable and Statistical Victims,\" _Organisational Behaviour and Human Decision Processes_ 102, 2007, pp. 143-53.\n\n47 See for example, T. Kogut and I.Ritov \"An Identified Group, or Just a Single Individual?\". _Journal of Behavioral Decision Making_ 18 (2005), pp. 157-67; and T. Kogut and I. Ritov \"The Singularity of Identified Victims in Separate and Joint Evaluations.\" _Organisational Behavior and Human Decision Processes_ 97 (2005), pp. 106-116.]\n\n48 Celia Dugger, \"US Jobs Shape Condoms' Role in Foreign Aid,\" _The New York Times,_ October 29th 2006.\n\n49 Peter Singer, _The Life You Can Save,_ p.113.\n\n50 \"Reform of US Cotton Subsidies Could Feed, Educate Millions in Poor West African Countries,\" Oxfam Press Release, June 22nd 2007, www.oxfam.org/node/173.\n\n51 D. Fetherstonhaugh, P. Slovic, S.M. Johnson and J. Friedrich, \"Insensitivity to the Value of Human Life: A Study of Psychological Numbing,\" _Journal of Risk and Uncertainty_ 14 (1997), pp. 283-300.\n\n52 Peter Singer, _The Life You Can Save,_ p. 55.\n\n53 Jen Shang and Rachel Croson, \"Field Experiments in Charitable Contributions: The Impact of Social Influence on the Voluntary Provision of Public Goods,\" _The Economic Journal._\n\n54 C. Daniel Batson and Elizabeth Thompson. \"Why Don't Moral People Act Morally? Motivational Considerations,\" _Current Directions in Psychological Science_ 10:2 (2001), pp 54-57.\n\n55 Paul Collier, _The Bottom Billion_ , Oxford University Press, 2008, p. 4.\n\n56 Arthur Books, \"Why Giving Makes You Happy,\" _New York Sun,_ December 28th 2007. First study: Social Capital Community Benchmark Survey; second study: Panel Study of Income Dynamics, University of Michigan.\n\n57 The University of Michigan's Panel Survey of Income Dynamics, cited in Peter Singer, _Practical Ethics_ , Cambridge University Press, 2011, p. 287.\n\n58 Available from http://www.norc.org/GSS+Website/.\n\n59 William T. Harbaugh, Ulrich Mayer and Daniel Burghart, \"Neural Responses to Taxation and Voluntary Giving Reveal Motives for Charitable Donations,\" _Science,_ vol. 316, no.5831 (June 15th, 2007), pp. 1622-25.\n\n### 10 An Inconvenient Truth\n\n1 Joanna Yarrow, _Eco-Logical,_ Duncan Baird Publishers, 2009, p. 12.\n\n2 Ibid. _,_ p.14.\n\n3 Ibid., p. 23.\n\n4 Ibid., p. 23.\n\n5 Ibid., p.22.\n\n6 Ibid., p. 36.\n\n7 Ibid., p. 37.\n\n8 Ibid., p. 38.\n\n9 Ibid., p. 32.\n\n10 Ibid., p. 40.\n\n11  http://populationmatters.org/wp-content/uploads/population_problem.pdf, and World Population Prospects: 2008 Revision, The United Nations.\n\n12  http://populationmatters.org/wp-content/uploads/journal_0411.pdf.\n\n13 Joanna Yarrow, _Eco-Logical,_ Duncan Baird Publishers, 2009, p. 26.\n\n14 Theodore Roszak (ed.), Mary E. Gomes (ed.), Allen D. Kanner (ed.), Lester R. Brown (foreword), James Hillman (foreword), _Ecopsychology: Restoring the Earth, Healing the Mind,_ Sierra Club Books, 1995, p. 60. I do NOT recommend this book, on the whole.\n\n15 Deborah Du Nann Winter and Susan M. Koger, _The Psychology of Environmental Problems_ , Psychology Press, 2nd edition, 2003, p. 45, and T. Roszak _et al_., _Ecopsychology: Restoring the Earth, Healing the Mind,_ p. 79 (again this book is NOT recommended).\n\n16 http://nymag.com/news/politics/Bush/26997/.\n\n_17 Highlights of Accomplishments and Results: The Administration of George W. Bush 2001-2009_ , Morgan James Publishing, 2009.\n\n18  http://www.monbiot.com/archives/2009/12/07/case-studies/, and James Hoggan and Richard Littlemore, _Climate Cover-Up_ , Greystone Books, Vancouver, 2009.\n\n19 http://www.corpwatch.org/article.php?id=14920.\n\n20  http://www.guardian.co.uk/environment/2010/apr/08/chevron-solar-panels-oilfield.\n\n21  http://populationmatters.org/wp-content/uploads/population_problem.pdf.\n\n### 11 Feeling Down\n\n1 World Health Organisation, _The World Health Report 2001. Mental Health: New Understanding, New Hope_ , Geneva, World Health Organisation, 2001.\n\n2 Department of Health, _National Service Framework for Mental Health_ , available from www.dh.gov.uk.\n\n3 Nicolette Heaton, _Understanding Depression_ , Emerald Guides, 2008.\n\n4 R.E. Lane, _The Loss of Happiness in Market Democracies,_ Yale University Press, 2000.\n\n5 See www.nhs.uk.\n\n6 Nicolette Heaton, _Understanding Depression,_ p. 14]\n\n7 Caroline Shreeve, _Dealing with Depression: Practical Steps to Understanding and Overcoming It_ , Piatkus, 2005.\n\n8 UNICEF, _The Progress of Nations_ , United Nations, 1993, p. 45.\n\n9 Caroline Shreeve _, Dealing with Depression: Practical Steps to Understanding and Overcoming it,_ Piatkus, 2005.\n\n10 Ibid., p. 43.\n\n11 C. Heim, D.J. Newport, T. Mietzko, A.H. Miller and C.B. Nereroff, \"The link between childhood trauma and depression: Insights from HPA axis studies in humans,\" _Psychoneuroendocrinology,_ 2008; 33(6), pp. 693-710.\n\n12 D. Kim, \"Blues from the neighborhood? Neighborhood characteristics and depression,\" _Epidemiol Rev,_ August 2008; 30: pp. 101-17.\n\n13 K.S. Kendler _et al_., \"Life event dimensions of loss, humiliation, entrapment, and danger in the prediction of onsets of major depression and generalized anxiety,\" _Archives of General Psychiatry_ , (2003); 60(8): 789-796. And G.M. Slavish, T. Thornton, L.D. Torres, S.M. Monroe and I.H. Gotlib, \"Targeted rejection predicts hastened onset of major depression,\" _Journal of Social and Clinical Psychology_ , (2009); 28: pp. 223-243.\n\n14 R. Vilkjalmsson, \"Life stress, social support and clinical depression: A reanalysis of the literature,\" _Social Science and Medicine,_ (1993); 37(3): pp. 331-42.\n\n### 12 Snakes In Suits\n\n1 Joel Bakan, _The Corporation: The Pathological Pursuit of Profit and Power_ , Constable, 2004, p.36.\n\n2 Gelderman, _Henry Ford,_ 84, as cited in Smith, \"The Shareholder Primacy Norm,\" _The Journal of Corporation Law_ 23, (1998): p. 277.\n\n3 Joel Bakan, _The Corporation_ , the whole book.\n\n4 Ibid., pp. 56-57.\n\n5 Ibid., p. 52.\n\n6 Ibid., p. 52.\n\n7 Ibid., p. 53.\n\n8 Ibid., p. 56.\n\n9 Ibid _._ , p. 49.\n\n10 Interview with Rachel Cohen, Joel Bakan, _The Corporation,_ p. 49.\n\n11 Joel Bakan, _The Corporation_ , pp. 61-65.\n\n12 Milo Geyelen, \"How a Memo Written 26 Years Ago Is Costing General Motors Dearly\", The Wall Street Journal September 29th 1999, 1.\n\n13 See \"GM Fuel tanks\", www.safetyforum.com; Public Citizen, \"Profits Over Lives – Long Hidden Documents reveal GM Cost Benefit Analyses Led to Severe Burn Injuries; Disregard For Safety Spurred Large Verdict,\" July 19, 1999, from www.citizen.org/congress/civjus/tort/.\n\n14 Chamber of Commerce Brief, 10. (\"Sanctity\" citing Gary T. Schwartz, Deterrence and Punishment in the common Law of Punitive Damages: A Comment (1982) 56 5.Cal L. Rev. 133, p. 152.)\n\n15 Interview with Edwin Black, Joel Bakan, _The Corporation_ , p. 88. See also Edwin Black, _IBM and the Holocaust: The Strategic Alliance Between Nazi Germany and America's Most Powerful Corporation_ , New York: Crown Publishers, 2001.\n\n16 Peter Drucker in Joel Bakan's _The Corporation_ , p. 88.\n\n17 Quotes from Michael Dobbs, \"Ford and GM Scrutinized for Alleged Nazi Collaboration\"  http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-srv/national/daily/nov98/nazicars30.htm.\n\n18 Ibid.\n\n_19 The Wall Street Journal,_ July 3rd 2002.\n\n20 Joel Bakan, _The Corporation_ , p. 102.\n\n21 Cited in David Shenk, \"Tomorrow's Classroom Today,\" _Spy Magazine_ , July-August, 1994, 22.\n\n22 Interview with Charles Kernaghan, in Joel Bakan's _The Corporation_ , p.66.\n\n23 See WTO Appellate Body Report: \"United States, Import Prohibition of Certain Shrimp and Shrimp Products: Recourse to Article 21.5 of the DSU by Malaysia,\" October 22nd 2001, available at www.wto.org (doc. No. 01-5166).\n\n24 See WTO Appellate Body Report: \"European Communities, Measures Affecting Meat and Meat Products,\" January 16th 1998, available at www.wto.org (doc. No. 98-0099)\n\n25 Examples discussed in Ralph Nader, \"Notes from Nader: The Chill factor: Consumer Safeguards Under Fire,\" _World Trade Observer,_ Seattle, Wash., 1999, available at  www.depts.washington.edu/wtohist/world_trade_obs/issue3/nader.htm.\n\n### 14 Earthlings\n\n1 British Union for the Abolition of Vivisection www.buav.org.\n\n_2 Proceedings of the National Academy of Science_ 54: 90 (1965).\n\n_3 Engineering and Science_ 33: 8 (1970).\n\n_4 Journal of Abnormal and Social Psychology_ 48 (2); 291 (April 1953).]\n\n5 Peter Singer, _Animal Liberation_ Updated Edition, Harper Perennial Modern Classics, 2009, pp. 53-56.\n\n6 Robert Sharpe, _The Cruel Deception,_ Thomas, 1988.\n\n7 US Congress Office of Technology Assessment, _Alternatives to Animal Use in Research, Testing and Education,_ Washington, D.C.: Government Printing Office, 1986, p. 64.\n\n8 Catharine Grant, _The No Nonsense Guide to Animal Rights,_ New Internationalist Publications Ltd, 2006, p. 57.\n\n_9 Ibid._ p.57.\n\n10 Robert Garner, _Animals Politics and Morality_ (Manchester University Press, 1993.\n\n11 Tom Regan, _Empty Cages._ Rowman and Littlefield, 2004.\n\n12 The League Against Cruel Sports www.league.uk.com; Animal Aid, www.animalaid.org.uk.\n\n13 Catharine Grant, _The No Nonsense Guide to Animal Rights,_ New Internationalist Publications Ltd, 2006, p.56.\n\n14 National Humane Education Society, www.nhes.org.\n\n15 The League Against Cruel Sports, www.league.uk.com.\n\n16 World Society for the Protection of Animals, www.wspa-international.org.\n\n17 Tom Regan, _All That Dwell Therein,_ University of California Press, 1982.\n\n18 www.peta.org.\n\n19 Tom Regan, _Empty Cages,_ Rowman and Littleton, 2004.\n\n20 The Coalition to Abolish the Fur Trade, www.caft.org.uk.\n\n21 The Coalition to Abolish the Fur Trade, www.caft.org.uk; Tom Regan, _Empty Cages,_ Rowman and Littleton, 2004.\n\n22 Catharine Grant, _The No Nonsense Guide to Animal Rights,_ New Internationalist Publications Ltd, 2006, p.28.\n\n23 Ibid., p. 31.\n\n24 Ibid., p. 31.\n\n25 Animal Aid, www.animalaid.org.uk.\n\n26 Tom Regan, _Empty Cages_ , Rowman and Littlefield, 2004.\n\n27Quoted in Annabelle Sabloff, _Reordering the Natural World_ , University of Toronto Press, 2001.\n\n28 Catharine Grant, _The No Nonsense Guide to Animal Rights,_ New Internationalist Publications Ltd, 2006.\n\n29 Ibid., p.31.\n\n30 Animal Aid www.animalaird.org.uk.\n\n31 Catharine Grant, _The No Nonsense Guide to Animal Rights,_ New Internationalist Publications Ltd, 2006, p. 34.\n\n32 Quoted in Annabelle Sabloff, _Reordering the Natural World,_ University of Toronto Press, 2001.\n\n33 G. Eisnitz, _Slaughterhouse: The Shocking Story of Greed, Neglect, and Inhumane Treatment Inside the US Meat Industry,_ Amherst, NY: Prometheus Books, 1997.\n\n34 Global Action Network, _Animal Transport_ (pamphlet).\n\n35 Tom Knudson, \"Waste on Grand Scale Loots Sea,\" Sacramento Bee, 1995, available from www.sacbee.com.\n\n36 \"Fishing – The Facts,\" New Internationalist No. 325, July 2000.\n\n37 Eric Markus, _Meat Market: Animals, Ethics and Money,_ Ithica, New York: Brio Press, 2005, pp. 255-56, citing W.O. Herring and J.K. Bertrand \"Multi-trait Prediction of Feed Conversion in Feed Lot Cattle,\" Proceedings of the 34th Annual Beef Improvement Federation Annual Meeting, Omaha, Nebraska, July 10-13, 2002,  www.bifconference.com/bif2002/BIFsymposium.pdfs/Herring_02BIF.pdf and \"Pork facts, 2001/2002,\" National Pork Board, Des Moines, Iowa.\n\n_38 Livestock's Long Shadow – Environmental Issues and Options_ ,  http://www.virtualcentre.org/en/library/key_pub/longshad/A0701E00.htm. Retrieved 2007-01-04.\n\n39 R. Sinha, A.J. Cross, B.I. Graubard, M.F. Leitzmann and A. Schatzkin, (Mar 2009). \"Meat intake and mortality: a prospective study of over half a million people\". _Archives of internal medicine_ 169 (6): 562–571; Fraser, Ge (1 September 1999). \"Associations between diet and cancer, ischemic heart disease, and all-cause mortality in non-Hispanic white California Seventh-day Adventists,\" _The American journal of clinical nutrition_ 70 (3 Suppl): pp. 532S–538S.\n\n40 A.J. McMichael, J.W. Powles, C.D. Butler and R. Uauy (October 2007).  \"Food, livestock production, energy, climate change, and health\" (PDF). _Lancet_ **370** (9594): 1253–63.  doi:10.1016/S0140-6736(07)61256-2. PMID .  http://www.eurekalert.org/images/release_graphics/pdf/EH5.pdf.]\n\n41 Charles Patterson, _Eternal Treblinka_ , Lantern Books, 2002, pp. 181–188.\n\n42 See for example  http://www.guardian.co.uk/media/2003/mar/03/advertising.marketingandpr\n\n43 Calculated from the annual figure of 25 billion deaths quoted in Catharine Grant, _The No Nonsense Guide to Animal Rights,_ New Internationalist Publications Ltd, 2006, p.28.\n\n44 Food Standards Agency, _Public Attitudes to Food Survey_ , 2009.\n\n45 Food Standards Agency, _Public Attitudes to Food Survey,_ 2007.\n\n46 S. Konrath, B.J. Bushman and W.K. Campbell, \"Attenuating the link between threatened egotism and aggression,\" _Psychological Science, 17_ , 2006, pp. 995-1001.\n\n47 Richard Dawkins, _The Selfish Gene: 30_ th _Anniversary Edition,_ OUP Oxford, 2006. _._\n\n48 E. Paul Ashley,, Amanda Kosloski and Scott A. Petrie \"Incidence of Intentional Vehicle-Reptile Collisions,\" _Human Dimensions of Wildlife: An International Journal,_  Volume 12, Issue 3, 2007, pp. 137 – 143.\n\n49 Melanie Joy, _Why We Love Dogs, Eat Pigs and Wear Cows,_ Conari Press, 2010, p. 144.\n\n50 M. Filippi, G. Riccitelli, A. Falini, F. Di Salle, P. Vuilleumier et al. (2010) \"The Brain Functional Networks Associated to Human and Animal Suffering Differ among Omnivores, Vegetarians and Vegans\". PLoS ONE 5(5): e10847. doi:10.1371/journal.pone.0010847.\n\n### 15 Looking Deeper\n\n1 A fuller description occurs in Richard Dawkins book _The Selfish Gene._\n\n2 I have a theory that the universe may be contracting, not expanding. But in either the contracting or expanding universe theory, matter is still moving away from other matter, so the analogy with the coin on the road holds in either case.\n\n### 16 Faith in Psychology\n\n1 Mentioned in Robert D. Hare, _Without Conscience: The Disturbing World of the Psychopaths Among Us,_ The Guilford Press, 1999.\n\n_2 The Bible: New Internationalist Version_ , 1984.\n\n3  http://christianity.about.com/od/denominations/p/christiantoday.htm\n\n4 Richard Dawkins, _The God Delusion,_ Black Swan, 2007, pp. 194-5.\n\n5 Social Exclusion Unit, Office of the Deputy Prime Minister, _Mental Health and Social Exclusion,_ 2004 _._\n\n6 H. Benson _et al_., \"Study of the therapeutic effects of intercessory prayer (STEP) in cardiac bypass patients,\" _American Heart Journal_ 151:4, 2006, pp. 934-42.\n\n7 From Anne Nicol Gaylor's article at http://www.ffrf.org/fttoday/back/hitler.html\n\n8 Richard Dawkins, _The God Delusion,_ p. 129.\n\n9 www.the-brights.net.\n\n10 M. Scott-Peck, _The Road Less Travelled: The New Psychology of Love, Traditional Values and Spiritual Growth,_ Arrow Books, 1990 _,_ p.222.\n\n11 John Hartung's paper appearing in _Skeptic_ 3: 4, 1995. It is also available at http://strugglesforexistence.com/=article_pid=13, and discussed in Richard Dawkins, _The God Delusion,_ p. 288.\n\n12 http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2005/oct/07/iraq.usa.\n\n13 The original error appears in the Septuagint text of Isaiah 7: 14-16.\n\n14 William Easterly, _The White Man's Burden,_ New York: The Penguin Press, 2006, p. 252.\n\n15  http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2010/jul/05/popes-uk-visit-cost-12m.\n\n16 www.atheistbus.org.uk.\n\n### 17 The Second Coming\n\n1 M. Scott-Peck, _The Road Less Travelled: The New Psychology of Love, Traditional Values and Spiritual Growth,_ Arrow Books, 1990, p. 85.\n\n2 Ibid., p. 190.\n\n3 Mentioned in David Mearns, _Developing Person-Centred Counselling,_ Sage Publications, 1994.\n\n4 Martha Stout, _The Sociopath Next Door_ , p. 8.\n\n5 M. Scott-Peck, _The Road Less Travelled: The New Psychology of Love, Traditional Values and Spiritual Growth,_ Arrow Books, 1990, p. 192.\n\n### 18 The Lunatics Have Taken Over the Asylum\n\n1 Gilbert Burnham, Riyadh Lafta, Shannon Doocy and Les Roberts, The Lancet, October 11th, 2006.\n\n2 Tony Blair, _A Journey_ , Arrow, 2011.\n\n_3 Collins English Dictionary - Complete & Unabridged 10th Edition_.\n\n4  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_political_scandals_in_the_United_Kingdom and  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Political_scandals_of_the_United_States Federal_government_scandals respectively.\n\n### 19 Nature Versus Nurture\n\n1  http://www.guardian.co.uk/technology/gamesblog/2010/feb/10/games-controversy.\n\n2  http://www.psychologytoday.com/articles/200404/vegan-vengeance.\n\n3 www.teachernet.gov.uk.\n\n4  http://education.guardian.co.uk/faithschools/story/0,,2175879,00.html.\n\n5  http://www.guardian.co.uk/uk/2007/sep/23/schools.faithschools.\n\n6  http://www.hse.gov.uk/statistics/lfs/0607/strocc2_3yr.htm.\n\n7 http://curriculum.qcda.gov.uk this and other copied notes were from this source.\n\n8  http://www.citizenshipfoundation.org.uk/main/page.php?286.\n\n### 20 Media Madness\n\n1 From _The Daily Mail_ on one of the days of December 1996. I couldn't ascertain which exact day.\n\n2 The story made news in _The Sun_ numerous times in September and October 2010, in their newspaper and website. See for example  http://www.thesun.co.uk/sol/homepage/news/3151098/Becks-slaps-slapper-with-5million-writ.html.\n\n3 http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b00yc131.\n\n_4 The Sun_ newspaper (UK), 15th July 2004, p.1.\n\n### 21 Dispensing Global Psychotherapy\n\n1 M. Scott-Peck, _The Road Less Travelled: The New Psychology of Love, Traditional Values and Spiritual Growth,_ Arrow Books, 1990.\n\n### 22 Back Down to Earth\n\n1 H. Meng, and E.L. Freud (eds.), _Psychoanalysis and Faith: The Letters of Sigmund Freud and Oskar Pfister_ , New York: Basic Books, 1963. Trans. E Mosbacher, pp. 61-62.\n\n2  http://www.classic-literature.co.uk/American-authors/19th-century/Abraham-lincoln/the-writings-of-abraham-lincoln-04/.\n\n# About the Author\n\nJake Lyron is an English philosopher, author and campaigner. In his life he has been an Earth scientist, a tractor driver, a Greenpeace climber, a school cook, a member of Mensa, an office 'gopher' and a carpenter.\n\n### Appeal\n\nThis ebook has been made free as part of the campaign to fix a mad world. Years of work went into making the book. To thank Jake and to help fund his campaign work a donation is much appreciated.\n\nIf you find the website is unavailable you can make a direct donation to the campaign from the www.Paypal.com secure website. Just visit Paypal's own website and make a payment to zarrablastcreative@gmail.com. This email is never checked so please do not use it for contacting the author but it does receive payments.\n\nThis campaign is not backed by any big charity like Greenpeace or Oxfam, it is merely one man and a computer. I am not wealthy and have no desire to become so, so please don't get the impression that I can survive on what other people are donating – I don't receive very much at all and your support is vital if I am to continue to help people with my work. Please consider making a donation, it can make a big difference. In the event of the book going viral and large monies coming in, I will put it to making a film of the book. Many people will not donate, but a generous few will. Thank you to those individuals. And if you can't afford to donate, please consider sharing the book with others. If those who can afford the price of a coffee make a donation, it means I can keep the book free for poorer people in developing countries who are unable to pay. Thanks. Jake.\n\n# Help Make the Film!\n\nDr Zab has not finished yet... hold on to your neurons, because the book _The Shrink from Planet Zob: Psychiatry for a Mad World_ is to be made into a film!\n\nTo raise funds to make the film, you can pledge to buy a copy of the DVD or streamed video. Investors are also being offered the chance to invest in the film, following the 'crowd funding' method.\n\nWhen the pledges reach the amount of the production budget, the money is called in, the film made, then distributed, and the investors paid according to the terms. Nobody pays anything until the pledges reach the production budget, so there is minimal risk.\n\nThe website also shows you progress on how much has been pledged so far!\n\n# Hugh Manitee's Book of Memes\n\nWrite a meme for the world to see, sharing your ideas for how we can make life on Earth better for all. Then watch your meme spread virally around the planet. Read memes from people around the world. Comment, share, make friends and be a part of Hugh's global meme therapy. Google: \"Hugh Manitee's Book of Memes: Change the World – Write a Meme for this Book!\"\n\nHave fun!\n\n#\n\n#  Join Us!\n\nNow you've read the book, you can join the movement for a sane world, by donating your skills!\n\nWe need:\n\n* Social networkers. This campaign depends entirely on people sharing the ebook. No need to register, costs nothing and anyone can do it – _sharing is caring!_\n\n* Activists\n\n* Media activists\n\n* Donations of products to sell in the campaign-funding shop\n\n* Publishers\n\n* Psychologists, psychiatrists, psychotherapists, counsellors and life coaches\n\n* Fundraisers\n\n* Philanthropists\n\n* Film producers and makers\n\n* Actors\n\n* Camera men/women\n\n* CGI animators\n\n* Creative thinkers\n\n* Website developers\n\n* Accountants\n\n* Lawyers\n\n* Translators\n\n* Editors for different languages\n\n* Proof readers for different languages\n\n* Anyone else who thinks they can help out!\n\nJoin us using the hashtag #theshrinkfromplanetzob.\n\n# More by Jake Lyron\n\nIf you enjoyed this book, you may enjoy other books and projects by Jake Lyron.\n\nHis book _The Holy Grail's Lost Meaning: Symbol of Receptiveness to Truth and Love_ links effortlessly to the psychology of global issues as described in _The Shrink from Planet Zob_. Again, Lyron takes a scientific approach, critically assessing previous theories of the grail before a compelling proposition of the grail as a symbol of receptiveness. A philosophical _tour de force_ covering the ancient spiritual themes of the grail, the chalice symbol in Taoism, Kabbalah, Quakerism and Zen Buddhism, receptiveness and the stories of Galileo, Darwin, Christ and speed cameras, links to the heart symbol and the Tarot deck, Greek mythology and the lost meaning of the Greek letter psi are covered and a new appraisal of the symbolism within Da Vinci's painting _The Last Supper_. Receptiveness is examined as it relates to the global issues of war, poverty, the environment and the unity of humanity and hope for a rational spirituality is offered to the world.\n\n\" _A Compelling Read! Lyron writes with depth and sincerity on a subject that angels fear to dwell on. Past fairy-tales, past suspense-thrillers, this magical book grips hold of you... one that'll keep you holding your breath until the very last minute. At last, here comes a worthy competitor to Dan Brown and_ The Da Vinci Code _.\"_\n\nDr Geraldine Jain, Medical Director, Punarnawah Medical & Research Centre\n\nJake's philosophical explorations started in 1999 which led Jake to write about his ideas and discoveries in his online blogs. These early investigations were adapted into his book _The Spirituality of Reality: The First Steps Along the Path_ , a collection of short essays mixing science and spirituality interspersed with comic moments. Jake shows how by surrendering the ego we can make a close connection with the reality of the universe, something he calls _the spirituality of reality._\n\n\" _For me, the book incited some of those magical 'Ahhhh...' moments when suddenly everything falls into place and everything seems clear. I also found myself nodding along at times and thinking, maybe aloud, 'Yeah, that's right', enjoying the fact that my eyes had been opened to a new and valuable perspective. Reflecting, I think this is the best element of the book. Those wonderful moments where something is brought to light, previously overlooked or all together unnoticed.\"  \n_\n\nDan – philosopher\n\n_An Armchair Exploration of the Universe: How a Contracting Universe Created Love from Chaos_ shows how Jake's philosophy takes a journey from the birth of the Universe through gravity, contraction, entropy and evolution to explain how love was the final result. In it he suggests explanations for the Taoist \"force\" which some mystics have explored with astonishing results. Google the title and you may find the ebook is free. Use hashtag #armchairuniverse to discuss.\n\nChristianity Killed Christ: Science will be the Resurrection\n\nJake writes in support of the true spirit of Christ which has been drowned in a plethora of nonsensical Christian denominations. As G.K. Chesterton commented: \"Christianity hasn't failed; it has simply not been put into practice yet.\" Jake returns to Jesus' own words \"I am the truth the light and the way\" to rebuild a theology which holds water from a scientific as well as a spiritual perspective. Thought provoking, controversial and illuminating; join the debate at this pivotal era in the history of Christianity. Use hashtag #scienceresurrection to discuss.\n\nHugh Manitee's Book of Memes: Change the World - Write a Meme for this Book!\n\nThis book is a spin off from _The Shrink from Planet Zob_ as it features in the storyline. It is a selection of thought provoking essays from celebrities, authors, philosophers, psychologists, anthropologists and others, part of the movement for a sane world. It is free to download so Google the title and get a copy today.\n\nEscape the Matrix: Breaking Free of Illusions for an Authentic and Meaningful Life\n\nIn this critique of civilisation in the early 21st century Jake questions where we are going with the ever increasing dominance of super-consumerism and unbridled technology. Humanity, it is argued is sleep walking into a method of information control similar to the computer control in the film series of _The Matrix_. Jake questions if this path we are stumbling down is truly creating happiness and shows how living a more simple life closer to nature and with traditional values is more likely to generate feelings of wellbeing and harmony.\n\nLiving the Spirituality of Reality: Experiencing Truth in the Universe\n\nThis book is a collection of short philosophical essays illustrating the concepts behind Jake's 'spirituality of reality' with everyday examples. Drawing from various established beliefs, science and psychology Jake makes sense of the world around us and maps out a way of living with authenticity, clarity and meaning. Use hashtag **#spiritualityofreality**.\n\nThat's it. Thank you for buying and reading this book, I hope you enjoyed it. I know that most people will not agree with everything that they have read, but most _will_ agree with me in supporting people with mental illness, trying to prevent war, putting an end to poverty, protecting the environment, taking care of animals, making corporations more responsible, and making politicians, educators and the media better able to improve our world. This book is part of a campaign to fix our mad world. If you also want to see a world of sanity and compassion, please feel free to share the website link with others.\n\nMany thanks.\n\n### Jake Lyron\n\n### The laptop is mightier than the nuclear warhead.\n\n(An aspiration, but with the fall of some oppressive regimes put down to online social networks, there is some truth to it.)\n\n", "meta": {"pile_set_name": "BookCorpus2"}}
{"text": " \nWhite Rock\n\nby\n\nMcKenzie Devlin\n\nCopyright © 2015 McKenzie Devlin\n\ne-Book Version 4.1\n\nPrint version also available.\n\nISBN: 9781311758118\n\nThis is the first book of the White Rock series.\n\nPlease look for A Dangerous Kind of Girl, the continuation of White Rock.\n\nUnauthorized reproductions prohibited.  \nThis book is a work of fiction. Any reference to events, people or places is purely coincidental.\n\n~ ~ ~\n\nFrom Chapter Nine...\n\nMichael cupped her chin with a steady hand. Kris could barely see in the dark shadows of the room, for which she was thankful.\n\n\" _If you really want me to go, say the word,\" he said in a low voice._\n\n\" _No. Stay, I guess.\"_\n\n\" _Don't guess. Be sure. Be absolutely sure Kris,\" Michael breathed out heavily, perplexed why so much anxiety was coming forth._\n\n\" _Old demons in my head.\" Kris forced an apologetic smile._\n\nMichael lay still trying his best to keep the raging fire inside his body to a low burn.\n\n\" _I'm not here to play games or hurt you.\" Unable to resist, he kissed her neck gently, deeply. Her inability to relax indicated it was too soon. Too much._\nChapter One\n\nThe Dining Hall\n\nKris Bay grabbed her hip with a cold, tired hand. The Rebellious One approached. There was no mistaking her high pitched humming and clackity-clack of non-uniform shoes.\n\nKris dragged herself to the waitress station and threw a stained rag into a barrel of other food soaked rags.\n\n\"Is it time to go home yet?\" Raina bounced up along side the podium.\n\n\"Not even close,\" Kris said and yawned. \"How many cups of coffee have you had today?\"\n\n\"None.\"\n\n\"I don't believe that.\"\n\n\"Dale needs you,\" Raina said.\n\nKris blinked several times. \"Why me, when he has you?\"\n\n\"'Cause,\" the black haired girl popped her gum loudly and smiled. \"Said I was annoying. 'Find something else to do.'\"\n\n\"Where the devil is Adam?\"\n\nRaina paused before bouncing her way down a dark hall leading to the ladies' room. \"Uhhh, oh – sick I guess. Something like that.\"\n\n\"Something my foot,\" Kris muttered under her breath.\n\nAdam wasn't sick, he was hung over. His only real illness was idiocy.\n\nThe lithesome female padded back to the main kitchen of the Willow Camp Dining Hall. Her hair had been piled high on her head early in the day but now half of it hung in limp strands. The last few hours were spent wiping down a sea of tables, straightening chairs, benches and picking cold spaghetti off the carpet. Lunch hour was brutal. Dinner promised to be worse. A few stragglers remained and Kris didn't possess the energy to boot them out.\n\nDale was the balding, tubby manager of the dining hall. Divorced from a Las Vegas showgirl and bitter about his crappy life, he kept his personal life mainly to himself. But he expected employees to do a hard day of work. If the effort wasn't shown, you wouldn't have a coveted job next season. Firing people in the beginning of the tourist season was painful, it meant other employees picking up the slack. Finding replacements that could be trained quickly was a challenge as well. Dale's patience with Adam Hoth was already on thin ice. If it were not for the connection between Kristjana and Adam, Adam would be sent packing his bags. But Dale had a soft spot in his heart for the tenuous Norweigen female, Kris.\n\n\"Kristjana.'' Dale leaned against the stainless steel counter. He spoke in a low, grumbling voice without making eye contact. He never called Kris by the shortened version of her name but by the name she gave on her original job application some four years ago.\n\n\"Sorry. I didn't realize Adam was gone. I'll stay.'' She wiped slender fingers on her apron, trying to peel off dried food.\n\n\"Now, we've discussed this. Many times,'' Dale said. Kris knew what came next. A thorny reminder of one of her biggest mistakes regarding her ex-boyfriend.\n\n\"Dale, I just want to say -\"\n\n\"Ms. Bay, I hired that slacker as a favor to you. Which I don't normally do. But I was willing to make that exception.\"\n\n\"Yes, I know.\"\n\n\"I'm sure you haven't forgotten. What I'm trying to say is that if he can't do his job, you're going to have to keep covering for him. Now, is that fair?\"\n\n\"No, sir.\"\n\n\"I suggest you have a talk with him. Otherwise I will. And it won't end well,\" Dale said.\n\n\"Yes. Of course. I will talk to Adam first chance I get. Sorry he's so unreliable.\"\n\n\"I don't want to hear you apologize, Kristjana.\" Having said his piece, Dale was now bent over, moving several boxes.\n\n\"I'll get those crates moved,\" Kris offered quickly.\n\nDale straightened himself, and wiped his forehead with a rag from his pocket.\n\n\"Joseph is coming in later, about 6 o'clock. If you can stay until then.'' Dale turned and started for the back offices.\n\n\"No damn problem,\" Kris uttered once he was out of ear shot.\n\nThe increased shift not only stung Kris, but tugged at a desperate desire for a scalding hot shower. The task of scrubbing and washing thickly greased pots, pans, and food caked dishes was unfathomable at the moment. That duty fell on her booze loving, ex-boyfriend, Adam. Three long months ago Adam approached Kris, desperate for work and unsuccessful at employment in the sluggish economy. With Adam's persistent nagging and emotional persuasion, Kris finally obliged his pathetic effort and went to Dale to ask a favor. Dale had been reluctant to give Adam a job in the park, mostly because he was not going through the usual application process.\n\nA dull ache in her stomach rumbled to life. It was going to be a long evening.\n\nA flash of light. Crashing and more thunder. Kris took a shallow breath of greasy, humid air and grabbed a pair of dish gloves off the counter.\n\nA brilliant light illuminated the dark lodge hall momentarily. Seconds following, the sky let out a deep thunderous crash. Trailing immediately behind the ruckus were several more clashes of thunder. Clinking dinnerware and low voices drifted around the historic Willow Camp Dining Hall.\n\nSpringtime was stubborn in its arrival. The cold, quietness of winter was a memory. Currently a series of unstable storms flirted with the region. Streams raged, swollen with icy water from high country snow melt. Vast meadows blanketed in a sea of pink and purple wildflowers gave way to thick grass swaying in the playful breezes of springtime.\n\nThe Camp sat in the middle valley of White Rock National Park. Sekonee Lodge and the lower valley camps were the other major developed sections of the park. The deep valley carved out by glaciers thousands of years ago was a popular destination. In the wake of the park's formation were thick meadows, pine forests, a cold, winding river and large granite spires, seemingly leading to the roof of the sky.\n\nWillow Camp was named after the striking thin, red- barked willow trees that gathered near abundant water sources in the area. Streams and creeks trickled through little developed villages and camps. Short rounded bridges spanned over the gushing Kwoluck River.\n\nImmense crowds flocked to White Rock National Park during the months of May through September. Willow Camp, being a favorite lodging destination was especially busy. Mobs of families trampled sensitive soil, prevented native plants and grasses from regrowth, left food and trash behind, providing a large attraction to black bears. Willow Camp also sat at the base of some sheer granite cliffs, jutting thousands of feet skyward. Occasionally these rock formations gave way and massive pieces would break off plummeting to the valley floor. On days such as this, one couldn't be sure if the clash and boom outside was just the thunder or rather some rocks falling, flattening everything in their path.\n\nConstructed in the 1940's, the Willow Camp dining hall maintained a rustic lodge atmosphere. Huge wood beams supported a high vaulted ceiling. Large windows let in soft beams of light from the forest outside. Heavy redwood doors opened into a campy, dark foyer. The hostess station greeted incoming patrons, inviting them to seat themselves. During breakfast and lunch, food was offered cafeteria style. Dinner was a bit more formal, and menus with a limited but delicious choice of dishes was available.\nChapter Two\n\nThe dinner hour was especially busy. With the continued thunderstorms and heavy downpours, visitors were seeking shelter inside. The Willow Creek lodge contained a floor-to-ceiling natural stone fireplace in the center. On this dark evening, the fire was crackling and popping eating away large pieces of wood.\n\nKristjana rinsed off a huge pot with worn black handles. Random thoughts danced sporadically in her mind. Walking back in the rain, the cold dampness of her cabin, and dealing with Adam later on. Dull pains grabbed her lower back. Her hair, once was piled on top of her head in a messy bun, started to break free and fall into her face. Mousy strands of stray hair stuck to the sides of her damp skin.\n\nThe lights flickered overhead. Gasps and sighs resonated from the main hall. Kris struggled to think hard, but couldn't recall if she'd placed a small flashlight in her day bag. It wasn't crucial, but a nice comfort to have the little luminary.\n\nMassive wrought iron chandeliers dropped from high above in the hall. Once used only with wax burning candles, they were modernized and wired for regular incandescent light bulbs. The original round holders for candles remained. It required a tall ladder and precarious positioning to reach up and light candles, yet was accomplished during times when power failed. Electricity to the park came in through the Mather canyon on huge lines. Outages were common during storms, but park staff was usually equipped to deal with any ordeal. Commonly, loss of power was a minor annoyance to staff and employees, but a great significance to visitors. Music players, cell phones, even hair irons were necessities, even on vacation.\n\n\"Kris! What's shakin' babeee?! Is this fun or what?!'' The energetic voice of Joseph, the head washer, abruptly entered the kitchen.\n\n\"My God Joseph.'' Kris dropped a big pan in the sink and shot him a slightly annoyed look. \"Aren't you the bearer of glad tidings.''\n\n\"How's my favorite little Norwegian?'' He smiled a toothy grin and grabbed Kristjana around the waist tightly for a fleeting moment before shedding his rain soaked jacket. \"Your knight in shining armor is here!''\n\n\"Thanks for getting me wet.'' Kris brushed back hair that had fallen into her face.\n\n\"Uh, if you haven't noticed,'' Joseph pretended to look astonished and held out his arms, displaying soaked clothing, \"It's still rainin'. Flooding is next,'' he happily smiled and disappeared around the back storage area.\n\nEarly spring flooding was common. The high country was emptying a vast amount of accumulated snow over the long winter months. And with increased precipitation from the spring storms, it was a recipe for over flowing river banks and feeder streams.\n\nJoseph reappeared, humming some familiar country song. A white apron was tightly wrapped around his body and he busied himself with straightening up boxes and other kitchen hazards. Kris glanced at the clock. It was past six and as far as she was concerned, lodge duty was over for the day. Residual steam brushed past her face from the deep stainless steel sink. She gave a last squeeze to several sponges and plopped them on the counter. With wrinkled fingers she wrestled with the apron ties around her backside.\n\n\"I'm out of here. Have a good night Joe,'' Kris said.\n\n\"Be careful. See ya tomorrow.'' He smiled then got to work on a stack of new dishes brought in by the servers.\n\nKris nodded and muttered something unintelligible. Grabbing her purple day pack, she fumbled aimlessly for her flashlight. Oh well. It would make for an interesting walk home.\nChapter Three\n\nRaindrops quietly fell. A few plops hit broad leaves, rolled off and made damp spots on the ground. Kristjana tread along a cracked asphalt trail, lined with large trees and occasional light poles illuminating the damp path. Her hands were shoved deep in her rain coat pockets, and water dripped off the large hood obstructing her view. Few people remained outdoors to brave the damp, unfriendly weather.\n\nFinally, Kristjana entered a section where the main path veered toward the big meadow and board walks. Without pausing, she steered to the right and on ahead, stepping into sticky mud and thick wet pine shoots. A low rush of water from a nearby feeder stream danced in a jagged, rock lined river bed. Over a short foot bridge, she trampled softly on. Thick mud was beginning to accumulate on her hiking shoes. Soon, she entered the edge of the staff camp. Old wood cabins were spaced in rows each with a set of steps and small porch. Some of the original cabins from the 1940's remained, others were reconstructed and a few were added on in past decades due to the increased need for employee housing.\n\nKris's cabin was number 17 the last on a long row, nestled up against some thick pines. She was lucky not to share a bunk and therefore enjoyed the dwelling to herself. Some workers preferred to share, some did not. The stone shower building was situated in the center of the camp and many employees left their bikes at the designated racks. In recent seasons, thefts had been slowly an unwelcome misfortune. With a deep recession, many people speculated that the burglaries and increased crime was just another bad sign of the times. Returning staff suspected an inside job. Newly hired employees were the first to be suspect, especially if they refrained from assimilating with others.\n\nA thick damp mist hung over the camp. Dimly glowing lamps on the cabins gave off a misty orange glow. Kristjana pushed back her rain hood to gain a clearer view. Approaching a sloping wood fence, she clicked off the buckle on the waist belt of her backpack. From an uncertain distance behind her shivering body crept the sudden white beams of headlights. Squinting, Kris pushed her hood all the way back and peered towards the oncoming car. Hoping it wasn't Adam, her pulse intensified. Suddenly Kris found it hard to slow her breathing. The deep rattling hum of a Dodge diesel engine broke the eerie silence of the forest. Heavy, wet tires crackling on the dirt came closer to the side of the walkway. Kris wiped her nose on her sleeve and paused to see who it was. Many of the park rangers patrolled the staff quarters during the night, but so did tourists, and people looking for trouble.\n\nKris remained still, heart still irregularly pounding inside her chest. It was one of the bigger Dodge trucks, white body paint with the White Rock National Park logo in green and yellow on the door. Large search lights jutted out from either side and the unmistakable rack of emergency vehicle lights adorned the top of the cab. Kris narrowed her eyes in the painful brightness. She moved to the passenger side window, figuring a familiar face would soon appear.\n\n\"How's it going this evening?'' a deep, curious voice resonated from the cab.\n\nKris stopped and did not approach the truck side any further.\n\n\"Hello?'' She did not recognize the male voice.\n\nThe growling engine came to a stop and headlamps dimmed. Kris could make out a strong male presence sitting in the driver's position with the typical dark green uniform attire of a park ranger.\n\n\"How are you doing tonight?'' He flicked on an overhead light.\n\nShe did not recognize this man at all. A tight knit community, it was common for park staff to be familiar with each other. Every week, meetings were required and very often rangers constructed the main gathering to inform the lower park staff of new developments, procedures, news or any new issues of concern. Kris assumed that because of the uprise in crime, additional law enforcement had been hired.\n\nShe took a step forward and lay her hand on the retracted passenger side window.\n\n\"Oh I'm fine.''\n\n\"Do you live here?'' He grabbed a large radio fastened to the front of the dashboard.\n\n\"Oh, yes. I work at Willow.'' Kris understood his question now. Typical investigatory protocol. \"Just trying to get home.''\n\nMichael Falkenrath vaguely smiled, nodding. The volume on his park radio was turned low, but part of his attention was keyed by bits of communication coming in. The girl appeared tired and cold and he meant not to keep her any longer.\n\n\"Okay, I just needed to check. As you probably know, there's been a rise in crime around here.''\n\nKris backed up, twisting a lock of her hair.\n\nThe ranger put the radio up to his mouth, speaking in a rather monotone voice. \"Southeast corner clear.''\n\n\"Nice to know we have real security now,'' Kris uttered under her breath. She was mildly interested in this new rugged male. Her unofficial duty would be delivering a detailed report to Raina in the morning.\n\nHe reached across the cab, extending his hand. As Kris met his polite but firm grasp, the intoxicating warmth of the truck cab rushed over her.\n\n\"Michael. Nice to meet you.\" The touch of her icy cold hand suddenly woke him to the realization he was painfully delaying her walk home. Temperatures were cooling and cold drizzle fell.\n\n\"Can I give you ride?'' It was the least he could do, fearing she would break apart from shivering.\n\n\"No. Thanks though. Nice to meet you. I need to get going.'' Kris yanked her hood over her soaked hair and slowly took some steps backward. He was definitively new. And quite handsome. The girls were going to go crazy over this one.\n\nThe Dodge engine roared to life as Kris walked away in the mud. Michael drove around the small soggy loop and accelerated back out to the main road. Kris glanced behind momentarily. He wasn't like the other rangers. Interesting. But not interesting enough to sustain her thoughts. Stepping up her sluggish pace, she quickly headed down a long row of cabins. Rainwater was now pouring off the roofs and creating huge puddles and makeshift streams. Kristjana reached number 17 and trudged up the worn steps. Fumbling for wet keys she jammed the correct one into the lock. Before entering, she managed to kick off her wet and muddy shoes leaving them on the porch.\n\n~ ~ ~\n\nThe spring storm wore on during the night. Kris woke the next morning, eyes swollen and late for work. Despite not getting the shower she yearned greatly for, she attempted to freshen up. Soaking a small rag with water from a bottle, she vigorously rubbed around her neck, and shoulders. The cabin was damp and cold. In a rush to walk back to the lodge hall, she avoided heating the small space. The time it would take to start a little fire in the wood stove wasn't worth the effort. Warmth was a luxury she didn't have that morning.\n\nKris grasped the back of her blond hair, gathering it up hastily. Twisting the matted hair, Kris managed a loose bun and clipped it into place. Her tresses were much too unruly to smooth into a nice, sleek pony tail. Irritation rose up. Annoyed that she woke late, resentful that she covered Adam's shift and embarrassed that she felt dirty and unkempt.\n\nAt the forefront of her mind were the painful memories and mistakes of her relationship with Adam Hoth. Such negative thoughts were giving her a stomach ache on top of hunger.\n\nMemories were faded but not forgotten of Adam and sun drenched hikes in the high Sierra. Backpacking trips to secluded lakes, late nights in front of roaring campfires. Passionate interludes when the moment seemed right, which was all the time with him. The red flags would pop up later. Now all Adam cared about was clenching onto any remaining feelings Kris still harbored. His driving force was keeping an evil eye out for other males entranced by the inexplicable raw beauty of her. Kristjana's pale features and sharp Norwegian genes were not ever overshadowed by her introverted mysterious nature. Her piercing large blue eyes were not forgotten by those caught in an unexpected encounter. While her striking features stood out, she did not wield them or consider herself extraordinary.\n\nAdam was a rare soul, once able to break down the cemented barriers of Kristjana's inhibitions and shyness. Underneath the layers of Kris's reservedness was a spirit of independence and curiosity. Even with Adam's persistence, Kris emotionally disconnected from him. She withdrew slowly at first and then rapidly as their relationship deteriorated. Over the course of the past year, Kris kept a careful distance, but subconsciously still understood, strangely, that Adam had a psychological grasp on her. He knew her in ways that nobody else did. The shared passionate times and emotionally sensitive connectivity with him lingered. Adam desperately did not want to let go of his prize. Kristjana failed as well letting go of their past.\n\nShoving cold feet into mud caked hiking boots on the top step of her entry way, Kris gingerly waved to a fellow employee at the cabin across from her. Four of them resided in unit 16 as happily crammed party goers. The camp was their playground. Most of them young, carefree and reckless. Loud music was commonplace. Kris attended a few gatherings, but usually opted for a quiet night alone with a used book and old quilt. She was the granny of the camp.\n\nPlodding down old wood steps, still damp with rainwater and mud, Kris flung the backpack over her left shoulder and started off. Rain was lightly falling, although breaks in the dark clouds lent to peaking blue sky. Perhaps the weather would clear later in the day.\n\nKristjana paused in her passage down the worn asphalt trail. It was customary to deviate at this point and knock on Adam's door at cabin 11. Many occasions he was laying in wait on the steps, smoking a cigarette. Smiling ever so cockily, he would escort her to the lodge hall to work most mornings. In recent weeks, Kristjana hopped over the low wood fence and cut across open dirt and destroyed meadows to reach Willow Camp. In light of her avoidance, Adam pretended not to notice her escapes through the woods. Instead, he would stake out the women's showers or the back entrance of the lodge to catch Kris when she would least expect him.\n\nThere was no sign of Adam this cold morning. Abrasive thoughts of Adam's work avoidance raced through Kris's mind. Against her better judgment she abruptly turned and tiptoed up the steps hoping irrationally he was already gone. The moment she reached the top step, the door swung open, banging against something hard inside. Adam stood on the interior, disheveled a bit, an unlit cigarette hanging in the crooked smile of his mouth. A worn leather boot was on one foot, while an unlaced boot adorned the other.\n\n\"Hey baby. Woo, you are a sight for my sore eyes.'' Adam quickly finished lacing his boot and grabbed a set of keys. He spoke out of one side of his mouth, a lit cigarette dangled from the other. Kris gingerly stepped back down the steps as the familiarity of regret washed over her.\n\nSlamming the wood door hard, Adam swung around, blowing out a large puff of smoke. He stared longingly down at Kris at the bottom of the steps.\n\n\"Adam. I need to talk to you.''\n\n\"What's up?'' Happily he trounced down the steps in boyish fashion. \"Bad morning, my love?''\n\n\"No. Why?\" Kris was so cross she couldn't look directly at him.\n\n\"Darling, look who you're talking to.\"\n\n\"Adam, Dale is really upset with you. I think he's getting quite close to firing you.\" Kris promised she would have yet another talk, and figured it better get done before work started.\n\n\"So? Let him.\"\n\n\"Let him? Adam would you get serious for a moment? Just a moment? If you lose your job, you can't live here. You'll be homeless.\"\n\nTaking a hard puff on his cigarette, Adam slid his arm around her side and pulled her close.\n\n\"Leibling, when will you get it? I can survive anywhere. If he fires me, then you can quit too and we can just take the van and head off on a trip for a few months. Go anywhere we like.\"\n\n\"No chance of that. Adam, unlike you, I actually enjoy living here. My job is in jeopardy because of you and your stupid drinking,\" Kris scoffed at him.\n\n\"Oh, here we go again.\"\n\n\"Yes, here we go again, Adam. You're not fooling a damn person in this park with your hang overs and calling in sick. We're not that dumb.\"\n\n\"Yeah right.\"\n\n\"Right. This is going nowhere. Big surprise.\"\n\n\"And just where do you think you're going?'' He squinted, flicking the ashes off the end of the cigarette.\n\n\"I'm going to my job, Adam. I'm not really in the mood to play and apparently you are.'' She jostled to get away from him, but his cold hand penetrated through her fleece top, as if a dull knife bore into her side.\n\n\"Don't start. Don't,'' Kris said.\n\nAdam took one last long draw on his cigarette, letting the smoke toil out through his clenched teeth. Tossing the butt to the dirt he slid his free hand around the back of Kristjana's head. Pulling her worried expression into his swollen facial gaze of foolish enjoyment, he brought his stale lips close to hers. Kris writhed with hot irritation and resentment. The familiar sparks of physical attachment produced a rush of confusion momentarily but his arctic touch quenched any old desire.\n\n\"Get the fuck off.'' Kris pushed at him.\n\n\"I'm sure Boss can wait.'' Forcibly grabbing the front of her attire, he yanked it up, touching the soft familiar skin beneath. Looking down at her exposed belly, Adam's tone became serious. \"Shit, babe, I want you.''\n\n\"Stop it. Everyone is going to see.'' Trying to break free, Kris jerked her head back and made a fist with her left hand. Reacting quickly she rammed her hand into the side of his rib cage.\n\n\"Ow! Ooo, babe, that hurt,'' Adam let out a moderate yelp, surprised.\n\nKris broke out of his serpent embrace and stumbled backward, barely retaining balance. Thick mud oozed up around the edges of her boots.\n\n\"You best stay far away from me today. '' Concerned about potential onlookers, she quickly veered down the trail. A well known fact was that the cabins literally had eyes. Gossip about the tiff between Adam and Kris would most certainly circulate instantaneously. Kris felt waves of anxiety.\n\nAdam smirked, secure in his delight of unbalancing Kristjana. \"Okay, see you later then!''\n\nWorried Adam would catch up, she broke into a light jog and did not look back. The frigid morning air was most welcomed against her flushed skin. Once she rounded the bend, and the round about, Kris deviated from the path and her feet met the soft forest floor. Uncontrollable tears welled up in her eyes. Blinking many times and taking a shallow breath, Kris slowed her pace. Glancing over her shoulder, heart racing, Adam was nowhere in sight.\n\nWatchful eyes nearby finished witnessing the strange transaction between the two park workers. The unnoticed onlooker deemed the event mostly harmless, although concerning. Half cloaked by tall brush and several trees on the north end of the camp, the shrouded male kept watch as Adam Hoth leered after the shaken female, and then after milling around minutes more, he made some foul gesture.\n\nAnnoyed, Adam attempted casual conversation with other workers leaving their cabins. Finding his way to the dirt parking lot, he spat on the ground with some amount of disgust while muttering nasty swear words. He climbed aboard an old green van and sped off, leaving a trail of tire marks and a cloud of dust.\nChapter Four\n\nMorning auspiciously came and went with Adam making a very tardy appearance to the Willow Camp dining hall. Kristjana constantly shuffled in and out of the kitchen. Work consisted of mundane tasks such as getting fresh rags to wipe down tables, napkins for the dispensers, mopping up spills from cranky children, and generally satisfying the needs of the breakfast and lunch crowds. Adam kept a sharp, bloodshot eye on Kristjana as she noticeably avoided interaction with him as much as possible. His mood was repressed and sour for the most part, cravings of booze clouded his thoughts. His deteriorating disposition and mental fog began to impair the speed at which he washed out large stainless steel pots and pans, caked with dried food. Adam was convinced Kris was tormenting him. Revenge for his affectionate outpouring earlier that morning. Let her toy. At some point she will realize how patient he has been.\n\nFinally 1:00 pm rolled around and the steady streams of hungry people started to thin out. Cooperating weather enticed visitors out of cabins, tents, trailers and vehicles. Trails and meadow boardwalks were slowly filled with bustling onlookers. The thunderous roar of nearby waterfalls sparked curiosity and excitement.\n\nKris briefly looked out an old window. Sunlight began to shed it's warmth through the heavy tree cover. A day like this was meant for hiking or exploring, not slaving away inside a musty food hall. The upper trails must surely be free of snow by now. Kris envisioned her favorite hike above the forest floor. A narrow path alongside slippery granite rock, eventually reaching high meadows and fast flowing streams. It was almost too intense to let her mind wander this way. Perhaps on her day off it would be time to explore. Kristjana tore her gaze away and grabbed a bunch of wadded napkins off a table. First thing's first, she told herself.\n\nRaina was making a particularly loud series of noises at the drink station.\n\n\"I need another bunch of straws! What the hell do people do to this flippin' thing?!\" Raina forced off the lid on a metal dispenser, causing a sharp snap.\n\nKris smiled and walked over.\n\n\"Did it break?\" Straws were scattered all over the counter.\n\n\"Well, if it weren't broke before, it is now.\"\n\n\"What did you do, beat it to death Raina?\"\n\n\"I put it out of its misery. Why does the boss hang onto old shit like this?\"\n\n\"It's not his fault. He's asked for new items from the park service for years. They just ignore his requests.\"\n\nSeveral long blond strands of scraggly hair fell down the side of Kris's face. In usual fashion, she pulled hair back tightly, securing it with several pins.\n\n\"I'll get a plastic container from the back.\"\n\n\"Thanks Kris. And some glue so I can permanently stick this thing down.\" Raina swore under her breath.\n\nBefore heading toward the kitchen and back stock area, Kristjana detoured past the hostess podium and benches where visitors waited to be seated during busy times. Plastic coated menus were scattered all over the benches and dark redwood floor. Honestly, people on vacation were complete slobs or so disillusioned in merriment they didn't care about tidiness whatsoever. Technically it was the hostess's job to keep the greeting area clean. Terri White was the part time hostess. She was slightly overweight, moderately complacent, and did the minimal amount of effort to keep her job. Obviously she left without caring about the state of things that afternoon.\n\nKris bent down on both knees, attempting to reach far underneath an old wooden bench to retrieving scattered menus. But before she could wiggle out of the odd predicament, the front hall door screeched open with great force. Startled, Kris jerked upward and banged her head on the underside of the bench. She let out a sharp, \"Ouch!\"\n\nPreparing to inform the intruder that the hall was closed until 4:30pm, Kris scooted out on her hands and knees. Quickly she noticed large black boots. The heavy door creaked shut. Kris blinked her eyes several times, and stood up, rubbing the top of her head.\n\nA few feet from her stood the vaguely familiar park ranger whom she met the previous night. Kris instantly observed that this green soldier was not the average bearded tree hugger. The ruggedly built specimen resembled something more along the lines of a forest warrior, perhaps ex-military or ditch digger for much of his adult life. And the typical hunter green and khaki official park uniform could not hide his muscular form, perhaps indicative of an individual who worked out purposefully. A tidal wave of shyness and unsteady nerves washed over Kris.\n\n\"I'm sorry miss, are you all right?''\n\n\"Oh, don't mind me. I'm fine. Hazards of this place.\" Kris felt her face grow hot.\n\n\"I didn't mean to startle you.\" Michael smiled, amused at the blond's sudden blushing.\n\nKris tried to shake off her awkward stance.\n\n\"You didn't startle me. Not really. Anyway, can I help you?\" She shoved the menus into a slot on the hostess podium. Returning her full attention towards the towering male, Kris put her hands on her hips. Filtered sun beans shot through the dusty air.\n\n\"I met you last night. The roundabout?\" Michael thought that she didn't seem like the typical ditsy blond, but she wasn't fully focused either.\n\nKristjana nodded, politely smiling.\n\n\"Yes, I remember. It was raining. More rain. Good, I suppose.\" How lame to talk about the weather! Kris became angry with herself.\n\nSensing the awkward moment was having difficulty passing, Michael reached out to shake her hand. Kris leaned forward slightly off balance to accept the handshake. Michael's grasp was strong and commanding. The warmth of his skin traveled instantly up her cold arm.\n\n\"Welcome to the park. I guess.\" Perhaps if she changed the subject, she could hide her inept social ability.\n\n\"Glad to see you aren't cold and wet.\" An air of amusement tugged at the side of his mouth. Slowly smiling, Michael reached into his back pocket and produced a folded piece of paper. \"You're probably aware of the camp fire meetings. But I'll give you this anyway.\" Unfolding the paper he handed it to Kris.\n\n\"Required attendance?\"\n\n\"Yeah. Apparently.\" Michael's voice dropped lower.\n\nGlancing down at the familiar notice of the staff campfire meeting, she nodded. An assortment of public campfire meetings could be found on any given night. But the staff meetings were held on Fridays at the back pit amphitheater. A small but worn dirt trail led from the south end of Willow Camp, through dense forest until opening up to a small clearing. Granite walls jutted auspiciously out of the the sloping forest floor. During spring, ribbons of water trickled down the rock in irregular pathways. In the middle of the clearing was a mammoth pit of rocks singed black from campfires, surrounded by crude log seats. A smaller trail led away from the clearing, into thick forest, leading back to the staff camp. Many people wound back towards the Willow Camp lodge and took the direct paved trail home. It was also a chance to grab some chips and beer at the Black Bear Market for some late night socializing on cabin decks.\n\nKristjana felt dazed scanning over the paper. A greater sense of urgency hovered over this meeting. No surprise what the main theme of this meeting would be - the increased attacks on staff workers. Swallowing hard, Kris straightened up. Her brow furrowed and she found herself distracted.\n\n\"If you could notify your co-workers?\" Michael raised an eyebrow in suspicion. Part of his attention was directed toward the kitchen. A piercing clatter of pots ripped open the passive silence of the hall.\n\n\"I will, but you won't see many of them at the meeting.\" Kris tucked the paper into the waist of her white apron.\n\n\"I'm sure you could convince them.\" Michael smiled warmly.\n\n\"I'll do my best. But it's sort of a tradition to apod these meetings around here. I'll post this anyway.\"\n\nMichael's dark eyes diverted negligently towards the thin waist of the apprehensive creature standing before him. Her white apron was pulled tightly around in front, a thick square knot around the back. Thin, pale fingers toyed with the edge of the stiff paper sticking out of her apron. In nervous fashion, Kris kept fidgeting with the fabric folds of her waitress uniform. Her hands were cold. Cool breezes seeping through cracks in the entry doors were not helping. Kris licked her dry lips, trying to figure out what else to say yet only mundane, unintelligent items were flashing to the forefront of her mind.\n\nMichael observed her lapse of self confidence and the tiny break down in her posture. Intrigue brought forth the warm burn of indecent thoughts, yet he was resistant to let his mind wander too far at such a juncture. It was commonplace for Michael to find a quick attraction with such an enticing lass, but he found himself instantly annoyed with the distraction. Weak attempts at squashing stray inappropriate images was uncharacteristically testing his will. The fine hairs on the back of his neck suddenly pricked his uniform collar.\n\nKristjana noticed a growing unfamiliar energy between the two of them, and she felt the urge to end the encounter. Wondering if her feet were cemented into the wooden floor boards, she glanced down at her shoes. Kris knew many park rangers, law enforcement, and even investigators that were regularly coming and going in the national park. Oddly, she'd never experienced loss of her usual unattached attitude. His handsome appearance was an understatement. But she needn't worry. Men like him chased after red lipped whores and big busted bimbos.\n\nKris fingered a long strand of blond hair, wrapping it behind her ear. A slow awful reminder surfaced. She skipped out on a shower the previous night. The sheer horror of her certain grotesque appearance surely must be overwhelming to this Roman god. What an obvious second rate peasant worker she portrayed. An unprofessional disheveled personal representation. Kris felt an odd prickly sensation coupled with rapid embarrassment. This handsome ranger was probably about to choke to death due to her transient exhibition.\n\nThe lanky female flushed a peculiar bright shade of pink. While it was pleasing to finally see color to her pale skin, Michael grew perplexed and uncharacteristically intrigued. Perhaps he made her nervous or she was shy with strangers. Surely there was something meant to stay shrouded.\n\n\"I'll let you get back to your work. Nice to meet you.\" A loud electronic tone from a radio attached to his hip followed. \"Excuse me.\" He turned, walking out the front doors. Kris peered out, watching him speak into the device. Then the doors heavily shut and she tried to snap out of her daze.\n\nIt had been a rather long time since the bombarding of butterflies and complete loss of rational thought had overtaken her composure.\n\nKristjana swallowed hard and wound a strand of hair around her index finger. Peering off toward the kitchen, she prayed Adam had not witnessed this interaction. Scrutiny from her ex-boyfriend was a constant complication. Thankfully she did not see his head poking over the metal counters in attempted surveillance. The double kitchen doors were propped open, but through them, she did not see Adam.\n\nKris pivoted staring blankly out at the disorderly dining hall. At least nobody was around. Covering part of her face with damp hands, Kris convinced herself she was smarter than this. That her total lapse into a bundle of nerves before a man was such a disgusting reaction. Lightheaded, she brushed her hair back and returned to work.\nChapter Five\n\nMichael's pace quickened with each heavy step of his boots on damp ground. Fleeting thoughts of the blond waitress clouded his mind. The way her full, pale lips pursed together. Her fidgety nature. The anticipation of the impending encounter with her again at tonight's meeting. Michael paused briefly from his hurried pace back to the truck to answer a few questions from disillusioned tourists.\n\nMichael Falkenrath was not the typical park ranger. Five individuals bearing park law enforcement badges were tasked with main duties of keeping the peace, traffic enforcement, and investigations. It was a never ending saga of theft, vandalism, forced entry, shoplifting, and more serious offenses such as lewd acts, rape or domestic abuse. His enforcement was not limited to tourists and park visitors. Many times he intervened when a charge or allegation was brought forth against a park employee.\n\nMichael climbed aboard his Dodge truck and nested the radio back into a holster on the dashboard. In a very odd way, thoughts of the unique female wouldn't leave his mind. Visions of her large blue eyes and long hair taunted him. She attempted to constrain her iridescent tresses in a bun, with a pen stuck through, yet half of it recklessly fell into her face. He found himself wanting to know more about her. Such a nervous approach to a stranger was curious. She was not the typical predatory or ditsy female he came across more often than not. This gal was striking but very ill at ease. He was turned on immensely by the encounter, although she had not flirted with him.\n\nJamming the key into the ignition, the engine gave a deep growl and then settled into an idle hum. Michael pushed aside his stray thoughts for now. Hopefully she would show at the meeting. Her safety as well as that of others was important and most likely nobody was aware of all the foul play taking place in the camps.\n\n~ ~ ~\n\n\"Miss! Miss!\"\n\nKris twisted around at the irritated voice. The dining hall was bursting at the seams filled with impatient guests.\n\n\"Can I help you?\" Kris raised an eyebrow in dismay. A round table before her was littered with half eaten food, big wadded piles of napkins, spilled juice, even a puffy wrapped dirty diaper.\n\nThe mother of screaming, hyperactive children angrily called out to Kris. The lady had loosely curled but mopish hair and an over abundance of gold jewelry. A nasty scowl was permanently etched on her face. Kris knew right away the woman wasn't used to being outside due to the bright red sunburn upon her cheeks and other exposed skin.\n\n\"Is someone going to take our plates away, or what?\" She motioned with her hand to the spectacle of dirty dishes with half eaten portions.\n\n\"Sorry ma'am. We are a bit busy tonight,\" Kris cleared her throat and scanned the serving station for Raina or the other girls on duty.\n\n\"Well, why don't you clean this up?\" In one arm the lady gingerly held onto a small child who'd plastered itself in ketchup and was now in the decline of a major tantrum. The father was busy shoveling meatloaf slathered with mashed potatoes into his exceptionally large mouth. Every so often he reached over and tugged at one of the kids next to him, forcing the lad back into a booster chair. Several more of the youngsters were finding entertainment under the table, letting out several shrill sounds.\n\nKris nodded, observing the scene, and failing to find any words that would sooth the disenchanted mother. Grabbing a nearby gray plastic basin, Kris began piling glass, silverware and plates into it. They had tried a bit of every dish offered, apparently finding most of it revolting. It would be good eating for the bears later on.\n\nKicking open the swinging kitchen door, Kris unloaded the heavy batch of plates glued together by discarded food. Swiftly she separated the silverware off the plates and one by one scraped food remnants into a big trash receptacle next to the stainless counter. Out of the very corner of her eye, she caught notice of Adam in a cloud of steam coming from the large sinks. Continual hot water poured from the over sized faucet. The hum from industrial sized dishwashers to the rear of the kitchen added to the chaos.\n\n\"Kris!\" Adam was motioning for her.\n\nStacking up a large pile of plates next to a free sink, Kris made her way over to Adam.\n\n\"What are you doing later?\"\n\nA typical attempt by Adam to ignore the obvious, and try and wear her down. Kris didn't satisfy him with a response and started out of the kitchen.\n\n\"Wait, I need to speak to you.\" Adam shut off the water.\n\n\"I have nothing to say.\" Kris grabbed a dish towel and wiped thick grease off her hands. Adam came over and intensified his gaze at her.\n\n\"I swear to god if you don't get the hell away from me and quit this -\"\n\n\"What? And do what? You know you like it.\"\n\nOnce accustomed to his pestering ways and unrelenting probing into her life, Kris had grown resentful. To the point of doing something out of character.\n\n\"I don't want to do this anymore.\"\n\n\"Well unfortunately we work together.\" Adam grinned.\n\n\"No we don't. Not together. My job is separate from yours. And maybe, just maybe I'll quit, take off and never see you again.\"\n\nKris tossed the towel on the counter, scowling at him before leaving the kitchen rather quick.\n\n7:35 PM.\n\nA cool breeze swept up a few leaves, scattering them into nearby bushes. Kris stood outside, apron in one hand, her backpack in another. The air was damp and smelled faintly of rain. Her eyes burned in the lateness of the day. Feet swollen and growing more numb by the minute, she cursed softly. Retreating to her small cabin and sleeping for eternity was an overwhelming desire. Kris needed a shower first in order to look presentable for the mandatory staff meeting. Perhaps a wheel chair was in order, for she did not think her legs were capable of steady travel.\n\n\"What was wrong with everyone today? Losers from hell.\" Raina bounced up alongside Kris. The short haired spitfire possessed more energy than average. She was snapping her gum and humming.\n\n\"What took so darn long?\" Slightly irritated, Kris lifted her day pack over one shoulder.\n\nRaina shook her head playfully side to side. She pulled out a colorful baseball cap and pulled it down on her tweaked brown hair. Closing her eyes for a moment, she turned her face to the late evening sky. Kris couldn't help but give a small chuckle.\n\n\"Praying?\" Kris knew full well Raina despised religion. \"Come on, can we get moving? Please?\"\n\nRaina gave a small boisterous hop.\n\n\"Yeah, yeah, okay. Hey, are you going to the meeting? I hear a new hot ranger is in town\" She was full of smiles, walking backward while snapping and popping away on some bubble gum.\n\n\"Honestly, I'd rather go to bed, but sounds like a meeting not to be missed,\" Kris yawned.\n\nRaina floated around and walked forward.\n\n\"Oh, don't be a poop, Kris. You need more of a social life.\"\n\n\"I get enough socializing with the bears.\"\n\n\"Boy, you're grumpy. Come on, let's get some food. Terri is making a wicked mocha lately.\"\n\n\"I just want a shower.\"\n\n\"Later. Come, on Kris.\"\n\n\"Oh fine. Whatever. You win. But I'm not drinking anything made by Terri White. That chick scares me.\"\n\n\"Okay!\" Raina grabbed Kris's arm, pulling her back down the trail toward the center of Willow Camp.\n\nBut, as usual, Raina spotted another friend and soon became distracted. Kris didn't wait and made her way over to the small store. The stone hut with a thatch roof was mobbed with tourists, but Kris pushed her way through, gathering some items to snack on.\n\nGiving the cashier a twenty dollar bill, she mouthed keep it and quickly tried to exit. Outside she plodded over a big grassy hill, and sat down near some boulders. With the sunlight quickly fading, Kris wondered if she had enough time to get to the camp fire meeting at all. She had to admit, secretly, that seeing the new ranger again would be intriguing. After eating her assortment of food, Kris brushed her hands off and started her way back up the steep trail to the staff camp. A low mist blanketed the forest and the air was thick with woodsy smoke.\n\n~ ~ ~\n\nAdam spat on the ground next to a tree. He'd been following the girls from a distance. Angry and fighting foul thoughts, he moved further out of sight in the dense foliage. Quickly relieving himself next to a set of trees, he growled a mixture of unintelligible words. He began to trod heavily through rough terrain. A insatiable heat rose within him. Discontent, and betrayal surged to the forefront of his thoughts. Adam made way through thick plants and uneven ground, his forceful gate cracking and snapping branches.\n\nAdam lay witness earlier in the day to the unfortunate encounter betwixt that ranger and Kristjana. Another person piquing her interest? Kris was his. There was no one else. They shared an exclusive connection and no amount of whoring herself to other men was going to break it. Her writhing, tenuous female form mated to his flesh and mind, would never be purged from his thoughts. Her current disillusionment would need to be corrected. Kristjana's stubborn ways would subside, he'd have to be patient.\n\nFinally out of the forest and connecting with the winding trail back to the staff camp, Adam slowed a bit. Pausing briefly to light a cigarette, he took several long drags then picked up the pace. Unable to fight old memories, his fiery mind wandered to the past. Her long blond hair draped over his face as she kissed his neck. Droplets of sweat across her brow. Suckling of her lips on his neck. His cock was always so hard for her. Entering her tight, fucking cunt, listening to those deep, little moans. Fucking for hours on end. Adam smiled devilishly . Afterward, she could hardly walk! No other male could provide what he could! Kris would remember. She was only confused for the time being.\n\nAdam was certain Kris's return to him would occur. In the meantime, his longing for pleasure could not be suppressed. Self gratification no longer appeased his lustful appetite. Reaching into the side compartment of his pack, Adam withdrew a half empty bottle of whiskey. Again he paused on the trail and took several long swigs of the golden drink. The night air was growing colder. Tucking the bottle back into the pack, he coughed and began walking with more determination. The meeting would be at least another hour. He had time.\n\n~ ~ ~\n\n8:12 PM\n\nShe isn't here. Michael scanned the meeting area, with subtle curiosity. Surveying the log benches and small groups of people, a small twinge of disappointment struck the stoic ranger. Michael arrived at ten minutes before eight. He chatted about inconsequential topics with the other park managers and law enforcement. Only a handful of staff showed up for the talk.\n\nCool breezes were descending off the steep granite cliffs above. In the center of the amphitheater was a big circular stone fireplace. An open pit actually, charred black from numerous fires from years past.\n\nA short pudgy female ranger was talking incessantly. A few of the head staff stood around drinking coffee, discussing events of the day. A few more park employees trickled into the clearing, visibly tired, speaking in elevated voices.\n\nKris trampled along the forest path slowly towards the amphitheater. Her vision a tad blurred, she strained to see in the dim light amidst thick tree cover. Up ahead she finally saw the large glow of the fire pit. Raina was most likely already there and deep into socialization. Closer to the break in trees leading to the clearing, Kristjana slowed. It was cold. Her face felt numb. Hands shoved deep into the pockets of her jacket, Kris felt the cruel knot of hunger in her stomach.\n\nFinally she reached the edge of the tree canopy and stepped precariously onto granite rocks scattered with loose debris. Her boots made a crunching sound like walking on broken dinner plates.\n\nMany stood around, catching up, telling stories, spreading gossip. A large easel bore the agenda for the meeting. Kris casually said hello to some familiar faces, passing around others sitting on the logs. She found a spot removed from most everyone else yet close enough to absorb the intense warmth of the raging flames. Digging through her small pack, she pulled out a sandwich. She'd grabbed a fast snack from the cafe before heading to the meeting. Quickly she unwrapped the plastic and sunk her teeth into the soft bread.\n\nChewing slowly, Kris watched several groups of familiar people sitting on long benches crudely carved from felled trees. Finding it hard to swallow, she took a jittery drink of chocolate milk. Her eyes watered as she managed to get the food and sweet liquid down.\n\n\"All right, we're going to get started!\" A short plump woman moved to the front of the gathering, holding a stack of papers. Several yards away, three other uniformed individuals turned and approached the fire pit.\n\n\"Ready for the ass chewing?\" a familiar voice spoke softly from behind.\n\n\"Randy. Quite a surprise to see you at one of these.\" Kris smiled up at an unshaven face. Randy Duncan smirked, and promptly sat down next to her. One of the first people Kris became friends with at White Rock. A well known loner, yet well spoken and a bit rebellious when it came to park rules and regulations. Randy led nature walks along the meadows and waterfalls, quietly narrating to curious visitors and boisterous families.\n\n\"Who's the new stud?\" Randy followed Kristjana's longing stare at a tall masculine figure standing near the head of the fire. Kris flushed a rosy pink glow. Raising an eye brow Randy grinned and remained silent.\n\nKris stared at the dirt and scattered pine needles on the ground. Her face grew hot. Pursing her lips together, ready to discount his tease, she flashed a crooked smile and crossed her arms. The start of the meeting quickly became disorganized and attendees chattered loudly at random intervals. Only a cackling hot fire in the large stone pit competed with the elevated volume of voices. Kris was fatigued and wished nothing more than to lay in her small bed in a warm cabin. The ranger she met earlier at the dining hall appeared to be ignoring her anyway. Perhaps she misinterpreted the earlier interaction with him. Well, men weren't to be trusted anyway. Nothing but heartache and trouble.\n\n\"Crap I wish they'd hurry up,\" Kris sighed, putting her feet up on the log in front of her. Raina's chirpy voice was clambering on with a several friends a few rows over. Randy nodded in response to the comment. He produced a small tattered notebook and sketched busily on a page filled with rough images of park wildflowers. Randy faintly smelled of musk and dirt, but in a very pleasant way. Kris found herself inhaling deeply, enjoying his personal fragrance. Not quite a Grizzly Adams, but perhaps a modern day John Steinbeck. Kris grew very sleepy. She turned her attention to Randy's sketch and they began discussing locally blooming flowers and plants of the area.\n\n\"What a couple of losers.\" Raina plopped down on a log next to Randy.\n\n\"Who, us?\" Randy frowned.\n\n\"Yeah, you guys. This thing is boring as hell. Kris, you see him?\" Raina leaned over, excited.\n\nKris straightened from her hunched position, of studying a page with blue and purple flower drawings.\n\n\"Yes. I'm not blind. Can you speak a little louder though, half the clan didn't hear you.\"\n\n\"I see you're still in a bad mood.\" Raina popped open a soda. She was out of breath and filled with energy. She tilted her head back slightly, taking a long drink.\n\n\"I'm tired and want to go home.\" Kris yawned heavily.\n\nRandy peered up from his drawing and set his eyes on the disorganized staff.\n\n\"Do you think there's something really going on? Or are we all about to get canned?\" Randy settled back to his sketch book page.\n\n\"No, they wouldn't get rid of anyone now, not near the peak of the season. No way. But I heard from Jake and that slut bitch Rhonda, that there's been a rape in camp. Already, this season! They think it's a staff member doing it. Can you fuckin' believe that?\" Raina blurted, speaking a mile a minute. She paused to take another gulp of soda. \"I personally think it's the new guy, Vince. He doesn't fit in. At the laundry the other day, he was like totally a loner, staring at everyone, but hardly uttering a word.\"\n\n\"The way you guys single people out, no wonder he keeps to himself.\" Kris stretched.\n\nRandy chuckled and then put his finger to his lips and shushed. \"Hey, quiet, maybe we'll find out.\" He gestured toward the female ranger speaking.\n\n\"Thank you all for coming. We will try cover everything as quickly as possible, we know you've all had a hard day, and want to go on about your business.\" A short, stout woman with hair that was pinned back in a tight bun on her head, spoke to the fragmented crowd.\n\n\"They wouldn't know a damn thing about a hard day's work,\" Raina smiled devilishly.\n\n\"Shhhh!\" someone in the audience blurted.\n\nKris toyed with a strand of hair, brow furrowed in confusion. Her best friend had been acting odd all day, like she contained some secret information. It would not be surprising if Raina had details that remained unpublished to the rest of the camp staff.\n\n\"I want to begin by thanking those of you who are here tonight, and to please tell your co-workers and friends,...\" The female's words trailed off as she thumbed through the stack of papers she held in her hands. \"Well, please encourage others to attend next time.\" She straightened herself and faced out at the gathering. \"I will turn this over to Beth Taylor, you all know her, please give her your undivided attention.\"\n\nA few muffled chuckles broke free in the audience. Beth was well known, yet for reasons not of regard or flattery. Ms. Taylor worked in the administration office of White Rock. Appointed to the position only three years prior. Beth had little grasp on exactly how to operate a National Park, never mind a wild and unpredictable conglomeration of people. She had been criticized for her beauty-queen appearance, failure to get her hands dirty with park issues and flirtatious behavior with male staff.\n\nKris smirked as Beth approached the small wooden platform. Whatever this whore had to say carried little importance. Thirty feet away from the platform stood Michael. His attention appeared to be focused on Beth, no surprise. Perhaps they were fucking, Kris suddenly thought. Beth certainly was a sight for sore eyes.\n\nSweeping back a long strand of curled red hair, Beth tilted her head slightly to one side, pausing briefly. When her eyes finally rose, she anxiously surveyed the quiet gathering. She hated dealing with these people, informing them was a total waste of time. The fire continued to crackle and hiss, sending streams of sparks skyward.\n\n\"Hello. Thank you for coming.\" Her voice was even toned and totally lacking enthusiasm.\n\nA crude joke resounded from the back seats. Kris raised an eyebrow. Beth was a specimen to behold, never taken seriously from those under her and a butt of constant jokes. Kris always envisioned Beth as a bubbling, big bosomed television news anchor. Yammering on stories of dismembered babies and drug addicts killing their parents. Thousands of pubescent boys masturbating behind locked bathroom doors to the very sight of the red lipped temptress on their television screens. The evening news would never be the same again.\n\n\"Many of you are aware, the park has hired several additional security personnel.\" She glanced sideways to her left, toward the group of rangers, \"Keri Brusk, Damon Jerr, and Michael Falkenrath.\" Beth motioned with one arm towards the fully uniformed officers.\n\n\"Uh, Keri gave up her position, in the coveted Blue Ridges National Park. Damon, uh,\" Beth motioned for him to step forward, \"transferred from Rocky Garrison National Park and,\" Beth seemed to swallow quite hard before orating the next name, \"Mr. Falkenrath joins us from Ametter Canyon Park, our sister park to the south.\" Beth turned and faced the fire pit.\n\n\"Perhaps a round of applause. These individuals gave up quite a bit to uproot and become a part of our family here in White Rock.\" Beth started clapping but several moments passed before the crowd meagerly joined the welcome clap.\n\n\"I'd say someone has the hots for the Falkenrath guy,\" Raina snorted, flashing Kris a look. Kris clamped her teeth together in resistance to her friend's assumption.\n\n\"Uh, this is our new investigating officer and deputy. He is taking charge of investigations as well as park enforcement,\" Beth said, glancing over to Michael.\n\n\"Why is that?\" Somebody stood up and yelled from the audience. \"What's with the hired meat?!\"\n\nRaina bent over Randy's lap laughing furiously. Once she recovered she spoke, trying to keep her voice hushed.\n\n\"You know Jake has a brother in the Marines. He's been saying the park is hauling big time security people in.\"\n\nKristjana turned to look at Jake. Notorious at organizing parties in camp, but rarely did she see him drink. He'd worked at White Rock for the past four seasons. Kris twirled her hair around her finger, wondering why the extra enforcement was needed. There were incidents every year, what made this season so special? Too many parties? Crazy tourists?\n\n\"Well, Mr. McAllister, please sit down, I am getting to that,\" Beth spoke directly at Jake. He was refusing to sit and defiantly standing with arms crossed.\n\nBeth recomposed herself and then tried again.\n\n\"I'm sure, as you have heard through the rumor mill there have been attacks on females in the park. Now, we do not tolerate this type of crime. It has been a bit difficult to solve, and right now the incidents are getting more violent.\" She frowned and glanced back at the rangers for help in elaboration, yet nobody said a thing.\n\n\"What, are you talking about? Why don't you give it to us straight, man?\" Jake stood up again, more irritated this time.\n\n\"Mr. McAllister. Please take your seat!\" Beth grew increasingly unhinged.\n\n\"Yeah, I'll take a seat!\" Jake grumbled loudly, pushing at someone yanking on his shirt, urging him to sit.\n\n\"Several females have been uh, violated. There is a violent component to the attacks, however.\" She stared down at her pretty fingernails.\n\n\"Are rapes not violent enough?\" Kris whispered to Raina.\n\nJake stood yet again, waving his hand in disgust.\n\n\"Then let the real police handle it!\"\n\nSilence eerily blanketed the clearing. Only the hissing and popping of the dwindling fire could be heard.\n\nKris watched and waited for Beth to respond. Her eyes narrowed, expecting further explanation. After a few moments, Beth licked her lips and spoke.\n\n\"This is an internal issue. White Rock is fully capable of handling the safety of the park. We have some good leads about the individual. I've asked Mr. Falkenrath to speak in regards to safety and protocol.\" She motioned to the stoic ranger, standing patiently in the shadows. \"If you would, please.\" Beth nodded to him, urging him to take the podium.\n\n\"God. This isn't good,\" Randy stated flatly. Folding his book shut, he quietly waited for Michael to speak.\n\n\"Thank you Ms. Taylor.\" Michael stepped onto the redwood stage, the old boards creaking softly. He placed both hands on the podium and directed his attention toward the group.\n\n\"Approximately two weeks ago, a young female worker was attacked at Willow Camp,\" Michael spoke firmly. \"There was another altercation last night near the staff quarters. These attacks involved a rape, but but also body mutilation. We are asking any of you, to report any and all suspicious activity or persons to us immediately. Hopefully most of you have cell phones.\"\n\nSuddenly a familiar voice interrupted him.\n\n\"What good is that! There's no fucking signal in this place!\" Jake popped up from his seat yet again.\n\nMichael looked directly at him and continued, \"I'm aware of that. I've made certain recommendations to Beth.\" Michael motioned to her, but did not make eye contact. \"And one of those recommendations is issuing radios to all of you.\"\n\n\"Like the ones you guys carry?\" a plump dark haired girl spoke.\n\n\"They will be similar, yes, but not the same units that we carry.\"\n\nMuffled chatter arose quickly.\n\n\"I have other things to cover. Please direct your attention up here for now, save the discussion for later.\" Michael's voice hardened up.\n\nShivers were overtook Kris. This was a lot worse than she'd been expecting. Every year the park was wrought with a crime wave, a pervert on the loose, even an aggressive bear, breaking into cars, stealing food. Common were rescues of a stray tourist falling into a rushing river, swollen with icy water, or the over zealous hiker stuck in a precarious position in the back country. Big city crime such as a serial rapist, was somewhat unusual at White Rock Park.\n\nDamp cold air was settling into the clearing at an increasing rate. Kris slumped with her arms wrapped against her midsection. Dismayed, Randy started drawing in his sketch book once more.\n\nSmall earphones attached to long thin white cords draped from underneath Raina's purple winter cap. She was mouthing words in silence and tapping her foot in the dirt.\n\nKris blinked a few times and tried to take a deep breath. Instead she sputtered and coughed. She unwound a thick purple scarf around her neck, and brought part of the material up to her nose and mouth.\n\n\"That's about it. Does anyone have any questions?\" Michael's stoic, unwavering voice cast silence over the gathering. Sharp, stinging pricks of pain plagued his lower back. Old injuries from long ago reminded him of his past. Michael found it rather troubling that he had spent a lot of years rebuilding his life finding solace in nature yet now he was back in a position of dealing with the evils of human life. He couldn't escape the dark side of society, even in the peacefulness of nature and a national park.\n\nKris blankly gazed out at the fire, occasionally her attention drew towards this newcomer. He stood before them all a mysterious informant, yet perhaps the protection that was truly needed. Blinking back sleepiness, Kris became cross. The ranger was finally done scaring everyone to death, her only thought was sulking back to a cold cabin and crawling under a pile of musty blankets. The meeting had dragged on long enough. A remaining thought bothered her. Exactly who was attacked? Where? Why weren't they giving out any specific details to this sorted situation?\n\nA few people stood up, asking more questions. Fear and concern laced in their voices. Many others stood saying quick goodbyes and disappearing into the forest. Raina popped up and bounced over a few logs towards several friends.\n\n\"Well, that just about does it for me. I look forward to weeks of harassment and phony militia following me wherever I go,\" Randy scoffed.\n\nKris spoke in a low voice, staring at pine needles on the ground, \"Why do you say that?\"\n\n\"All males in camp are guilty until proven innocent. We're going to be under the cloud of suspicion indefinitely until they come up with the pervert doing this.\"\n\n\"Maybe this new ranger will be different.\" Kris recalled the past failed attempts from park security to solve heinous crimes.\n\n\"One can only hope.\" Randy promptly removed a down jacket, wrapping it over Kris's shoulders. \"Trying to kill yourself with hypothermia? Jeez, Kris.\"\n\n\"Let's get the hell out of here,\" Kris announced, pulling at the sides of the jacket.\n\n\"Whoa, nelly. Why don't you warm up a bit, next to the fire?\" Randy urged. Kris reluctantly agreed. She wanted to leave, but maybe getting warm first was a better idea. It was a long walk back to camp.\n\nWhile Randy grabbed his notebook and pencils, stuffing them into his backpack, Kris became distracted in the scent of his jacket. It smelled of campfire smoke mixed with Randy's own sweet musky personality. Kris poked her face down further into the fabric, drawing in a deep breath. The warmth began to take hold. She moved past Randy and padded over to the dwindling fire in the stone circle. A few rangers remained, but after a quick glance around, Kris could not locate Mr. Falkenrath. Perhaps the night had wore him out and he fled to his presumably posh quarters on the other side of the park. Raina was missing as well, but that was common.\n\n\"Okay, better?\" Randy asked, smiling down at Kris, who was sitting huddled on a log in front of the fire.\n\n\"Much better. But probably time to head back. Everyone's left.\"\n\nRandy looked up and breathed heavily. White streams of night air drifted from his mouth, \"I'll walk you. There's danger out in them woods.\"\n\n\"Fine.\" Kris stood.\n\n\"Thank you guys for coming.\" Michael appeared from the darkness, carrying some papers.\n\n\"Wouldn't have missed it.\" Randy had a sarcastic edge to his voice.\n\n\"Nice to met you.\" Michael offered his hand in greeting.\n\nRandy, usually not big on formality, shook hands, nodding. \"Randy Duncan. Lowly park worker.\"\n\n\"Sorry to hear that. What do you do here at White Rock?\" Michael casually put a hand on his duty belt.\n\n\"I'm a guide. I lead screaming kids, families, couples on walks through the meadows and stuff. Generally nobody listens to me. Most don't even understand what I'm saying.\"\n\n\"He means the ones that don't understand English.\" Kris smiled at Randy, then took a quick glance at the ranger. Very often Randy didn't makes sense, or his own weird humor rubbed others the wrong way, creating quite an awkward situation. Kris noticed how Randy seemed to show a bit of apprehension in Michael's presence.\n\n\"We were just leaving,\" Randy broke the awkward silence. Michael hastened his gaze to Kristjana. She fidgeted awkwardly at the jacket, trying to trap fleeting warmth around her midsection.\n\nMichael surveyed Randy, who had taken a few steps backward in anticipation of departure.\n\n\"Thank you Randy. Why don't you get going? I can make sure she returns safely,\" Michael spoke in a deep voice.\n\n\"Ah. Of course. Yes, well, you would be better suited as body guard than I.\" Randy examined Kris for any signs of her discomfort, but she only appeared cold and tired.\n\n\"Randy, it's fine. See you tomorrow?\" Kris was getting annoyed with Randy's attempt to delay. Kris threaded an arm out of the jacket, ready to return it to him.\n\n\"No. I don't need it. Keep it. I'll get it from you another time.\" He continued to move back down the row of logs toward the trail.\n\n\"Thanks.\"\n\n\"See ya, kiddo.\" Randy winked and turned away. Kris watched blankly until Randy's lanky figure disappeared into the darkness.\n\nMichael stood silently as Randy strode off, not sure of what to make of their odd connection.\n\n\"I didn't mean to interrupt,\" Michael apologized, although he wasn't sorry at all for sending the scruffy kid away.\n\n\"No. It's okay.\" Lateness of the hour was fogging her senses.\n\n\"Is he your boyfriend?\"\n\nKris's eyes widened at the personal question.\n\n\"Oh, heck no. Randy? He's a good friend.\" Kris's cheeks turned bright pink.\n\nMichael narrowed his eyes, \"Seems like a tight knit community.\"\n\n\"It can be. At times. Not always though. You work here long enough, you get to know a lot of people. It's a strange microcosm.\"\n\n\"I see.\"\n\n\"Are we all really getting radios?\" Kris abruptly changed the subject. She wanted to touch her face to make sure it wasn't on fire. She blinked several more times, her eyes irritated from campfire smoke.\n\n\"Can I help you with this?\" Michael reached down and carefully took hold of her pack. Kris shook her head, leaning down to grasp it. But he was quicker.\n\n\"Oh, yeah, okay,\" Kris bounced back. His politeness was confusing. She hardly knew this guy, which made for a bundle of nerves in the pit of her stomach.\n\n\"Yes. Willow Camp will have short range radios. They will be on on a different frequency than park security.\" Michael explained and gestured toward the path. \"Shall we?\"\n\n\"Sure.\" Kris moved past him. The sleeve of Randy's jacket brushed against Michael's green uniform. Kris's heart jumped quickly, absorbing the intense energy of being so close to this ruggedly handsome person. Michael made no effort to move or back away as Kris slid past. The aisle between logs was narrow with knotty protrusions.\n\n\"But, um, if they aren't on the same frequency, what good is that? You guys won't be able to hear us low folk.\" It was slightly absurd. Why have a bunch of expensive radios to talk to each other instead of warning the proper authorities in case of an emergency?\n\nMichael smiled in amusement. \"The finer details have yet to be worked out.\"\n\n\"I'm surprised Beth Taylor approved the radios. Let alone anything.\" Kris was actually surprised. Beth had a long history of being difficult.\n\n\"Yes, quite surprising.\"\n\n\"You must be very convincing.\" Kris left it at that, he obviously was done with the issue.\n\nThey both walked slowly, entering the forest. The crackling of rocks underfoot dissipated and became muffled with dirt and pine needles.\n\n\"Just going to leave the fire burning? \" Kris turned back to catch a glimpse of billowing smoke.\n\n\"Damon was staying behind a bit longer. He'll make sure it goes out.\"\n\nKris glanced sideways at Michael.\n\n\"I didn't see him.\"\n\n\"Don't worry. He's there,\" Michael reassured her.\n\nKris got the distinct feeling this ranger was short on words unless commanding a platoon or constructing battle plans. As she walked along, some of her wits began to re-emerge. Tomorrow was Monday, her day off. The only comforting thought in the world was sleeping in late, grabbing some espresso and trail mix from the cafe, then heading off on a tough little hike up Takor's Pass.\n\n\"What are your thoughts?\" Michael unexpectedly asked, his tone noticeably subdued.\n\n\"On what?\" Kris tugged on her purple fleece hat.\n\nMichael glanced at her.\n\n\"Well, I forgot until an hour ago, tomorrow is my day off. I was thinking of taking a hike up a steep trail. Takor Pass is nice this time of year.\"\n\n\"I'm not familiar with it.\" Michael liked the sound of a trek into the high country. A reprieve from the politics of work would be most desirable. He was also quite pleased to hear that she apparently favored nature and solitude over other endeavors.\n\n\"Sorry. Keep forgetting you are new to this place.\"\n\n\"That's quite all right.\"\n\n\"There's a narrow trail that starts behind the cabins. I usually cut through the forest. Reaching the trail only takes a short time. The main trail head is near Black Creek. No reason for me to go over there.\" She wondered at that moment how much of park he was familiar with. Perhaps Michael had not explored White Rock, but then he must have some working knowledge of certain areas.\n\n\"I don't blame you. It's a rather congested region.\" Michael's voice giving the impression of some experience with the Black Creek area.\n\n\"But I suppose I need to rethink traveling through the forest alone, now. Shouldn't I?\"\n\n\"Well if you're referring to the attacks, I would officially need to advise you that, yes, it would be risky behavior to hike alone.\" He refrained from adding what a perfect target she was.\n\n\"Oh. Okay.\" How sad it had all come to this.\n\n\"However, you could take certain measures to protect yourself. Do you own a firearm?\"\n\n\"A gun? Oh heck no,\" Kris nervously laughed.\n\n\"How about bear spray?\"\n\n\"Yes. Well, I have several canisters. I think some need to be thrown out. I take them home from work. We get a lot of problems with the bears in the dumpsters in back of the kitchen. Our boss says once they are half empty, they aren't good anymore.\"\n\n\"The dumpsters?\"\n\n\"No, no, I meant the bear spray canisters.\" Kris was tripping over her words.\n\n\"I would just buy a new one, and keep it for your hikes.\"\n\n\"I think I will do that,\" Kris agreed, thinking about the clutter of canisters on her desk. It could be quite embarrassing for someone to see them all, not understanding why she hung onto them. She also realized the innocent outdoor playground which she adored, was also the hunting grounds for a sickened criminal. Bears were the lesser of two dangers now.\n\n\"All the incidents so far have happened around Willow Camp and out in the meadows. We don't know if the perpetrator is stalking trails, but you need to be extra careful, Kris.\"\n\nPerhaps there was real concern for safety, she thought, listening intently to his words. The meeting seemed like a bunch of hype at first, the usual fear mongering of the administration. Now, after hearing the affirmation from Michael, Kris decided it was quite serious.\n\n\"I wonder why those areas are hit? Why not the tourist camps?\" Kris spoke under her breath, disillusioned to her armed escort.\n\n\"Tourist areas are rather busy. Too risky for someone willing to do harm and not get caught.\" A sly smile reached a corner of his mouth. She was smart. Questioning the situation was a good sign.\n\n\"Yes, of course. I see. So that means I should be a desirable target.\"\n\n\"Why do you say that?\" Michael frowned.\n\nKris smiled politely over at him. \"Well, you'll see soon enough. My cabin is the last on the row. Some of the trees almost hide it.\"\n\nInstead of agreeing with her revelation, Michael thought she would be best served with advice instead of dire warnings.\n\n\"Like I said, get a new can of deterrent, or maybe a couple of them. Put one by the door and keep it there.\"\n\nKris nodded in acknowledgment.\n\nThey walked the remaining distance in silence. The eeriness of the nighttime forest engulfed the prior cordial conversation. Kris was sleepy, but enjoyed the peaceful journey back to camp. Stray thoughts nagged at her. Why her? Why had he arranged to escort her back to camp? Did the gesture mean something or was she about to make a big deal out of nothing?\n\nDim lights began to appear as the forest thinned out, leading into camp. Dim yellow porch lights dotted each cabin. As daylight dwindled, the lights came on each evening, connected by a simple automated timer located near the shower building. Each cabin was crafted from old lumber, harvested by the first workers to White Rock. They were simple dwellings, lacking plumbing, insulation or finished interior walls. But in spite of this, electricity was available. Heating was provided by a small, crude wood stove.\n\nA worker could decide to share a bunkhouse, or reside in a single cabin. Kris kept seniority at her job year after year, therefore able chose the single unit at the end of the row, nearest to the trees.\n\n\"This is me.\" She stopped in front of the warped steps of her cabin. She pivoted and faced the ranger.\n\nMichael eyed her cabin for several moments, quietly observing. It was fairly dark, and Kris was unable to study his expression.\n\nHe handed her backpack and Kris thanked him.\n\n\"Uh, I'd invite you in, but I'm all out of espresso and scones.\"\n\n\"Go open up,\" his voice was void of pleasantries. Kris twisted a strand of hair around two fingers. Oh, so he isn't just being nice. And he definitively didn't desire coffee or pastries, dummy. She swiftly ascended the steps and fumbled to shove the key into the lock. The deadbolt clicked back and she pushed the creaky door open slowly. She turned around to see if Ranger was coming in, yet he remained at the base of the steps. Kris said nothing and entered her unit. Damp air greeted her as she stepped into the blackness. Nearly tripping over a blanket laying on the floor, she cursed in a hushed voice.\n\nWith a sharp snap, she switched on a wrought iron lamp on her writing desk next to the far wall. Looking around, she squinted at the mess and untidiness of her space. Disheveled cot with purple sleeping bag and blankets; several books stacked on the floor beside the bead; a half eaten plain bagel next to a notebook full of useless information. And an empty cup of tea with nothing but the bag left. Breathing heavily, heart annoyingly chugging like a train, she stumbled toward the open doorway. Michael was patiently still waiting down below.\n\n\"Everything seems fine.\" Kris plodded down the steps.\n\n\"Do you have a cell phone?\"\n\nKris reached down into a warm pocket of her fleece pants and produced a small black phone.\n\n\"Yeah, it hardly works. No signal most of the time. I don't know why I carry it.\"\n\n\"You can't get any call through?\"\n\n\"I rarely try anymore. I don't have many people to call. It works better over near the showers.\" She gestured in the direction of the dimly lit stone structure in the distance.\n\n\"I see.\" Michael turned his attention down the row of cabins momentarily. \"What time do you figure on waking tomorrow?\" This willowy figure taunted his thoughts, his professionalism. Peculiar female, this blond wraith. She made little attempt at feigning attractions toward him, yet it was clear that she was anxious in his presence. Curiosity coursed through him. It mattered little, what time she would awaken. All that grazed his mind was finding a stray moment or excuse to see her again soon.\n\n_Waking?_ Kris thought. What business of it was his? But she was mildly curious.\n\n\"Maybe seven or eight.\" She sort of relished the thought of sleeping until noon, but Raina or Adam would surely interrupt that luxury.\n\n\"Perhaps you could show me this Takor Pass?\" Michael took a chance she was willing to have company on the hike.\n\nKris's eyes widened, his request caught her off guard.\n\n\"Sure. I'd love to. I mean, it's no Ametter Canyon, like you're used to, I hear.\"\n\n\"Great. I'll see you in the morning.\" The corner of Michael's mouth edged a partial smile. He stepped back into the shadows. The ground was soft and fresh with pine needles, crackling like tooth picks beneath his heavy boots.\n\n\"See you tomorrow, Michael.\"\n\n\"Get some rest,\"he ordered and then briskly started down the trail.\n\n\"Okay,\" she murmured to herself as he was out of ear shot. She stood on the porch a few more minutes taking deep breaths of night air. His dark figure disappeared along the trail. Echoing voices and occasional laughter emanated from other cabins. The night had come alive with frivolity and friends coming together. In a way, Kris was tempted to join them. Instead, she padded up the steps again, and went inside, making sure to lock the rickety door. She drifted down onto the cot. Several minutes passed, before further realization seeped into her mind.\n\nShe'd forgotten to thank Michael for his concern and for walking her all the way back to camp. Certainly he had a longer walk to retrieve his truck, parked below the amphitheater somewhere. Kris always struggled with guilt when it came to wasting other people's time. But soon it did not matter. She fell asleep in her clothes with the light on, unable to fight off the exhaustion of the day.\n\n~ ~ ~\n\nAdam Hoth withdrew deeper into the heavy foliage. Witnessing the park ranger swoon in awkward fashion over Kris, fueled his insatiable desire for her. Takor Pass. How lovely. What a betraying bitch! Who the hell was this ranger, anyway? A phony! Another man using Kris. What a fucking little tease she was. Fine. She'll get burnt again by another man and come running back.\n\nAnger settled over Adam like a swollen rain cloud. Kris was playing yet another game. She never learns. He was self confident that she would eventually get tired of soliciting other men like a street whore.\n\nGrasping the cigarette tucked behind his ear, Adam fished a lighter out of his worn jean pocket and swiftly ignited his smoke. A long drag and then equally long exhale. Fighting the urge to ascend her steps and take her into his arms, was nearly impossible. Adam wanted it to be like old times. Yet old times were hard to get a handle on. A long trail of emotional damage could not be easily repaired. Adam was fierce in his convictions that Kris belonged with him. They were better together than apart. She needed incentive.\n\nAdam began walking slowly, brushing past trees, heavy with recent rain. Visions of her silky, naked body laying next to him, taunted his mind. She acted such a convincing part; demure, shy, introverted. Yet by his guidance and command, she was a wild fiend in the bedroom. Adam closed his eyes hard and stopped moving. Streams of smoke drifted outward from the cigarette between his lips. Deep, secret thoughts filled him.\nChapter Six\n\nA loud rap pierced the morning stillness. Then another.\n\nThe figure stood impatiently. A pair of worn leather boots scattered caked pieces of dry mud around the porch. White streams of smoke wafted upward from a lit cigarette clinging to his thin lips.\n\n\"Goddammit, girl!\" Adam spat on the wood boards. Once more, he pounded a fist against the flimsy door.\n\nKris bolted upright. The heavy thud woke her out of a deep sleep. Shakily, she pushed the covers back. Heaving air in and out of her lungs, she wondered if it was a dream. What time was it? The alarm clock remained silent. Kris gazed, blurry-eyed around the cabin. Small beams of dusty sunlight penetrated the crude fabric curtain hanging on one of two windows.\n\nAgain, the pounding struck the door.\n\n\"What the bloody hell? Who the heck is this?\" Kris whispered in a scraggly voice. Adrenaline began coursing through her. Vague thoughts materialized into an image of the rapist beating down her door. Kris paused from quickly opening it. Instead, she reached into the book shelves above the cot, fumbling for her cell phone. She could not locate it. Slow and careful, Kris pushed the sleeping bag off her legs, and extricated herself from the warm cocoon.\n\nAnother boom on the door.\n\nKris swore, reacting to the chill from her bare feet on the cold floor. With shaking hands, she grabbed her hiking boots and scanned around for a weapon.\n\nIrrational thoughts drifted into the forefront of her paranoid state. She could sneak through the side window, hoping the attacker was not paying careful attention. But it was a small cabin, and far to the ground. Her thudding body landing in a heap would surely be noticed instantly.\n\nMore rapping on the door.\n\nKris swung around to examine a small digital travel clock on the desk. In little green lights it read 6:36AM. Now she was freaked out. Michael said he wouldn't show until 8:30. Did he change his mind, showing up two hours early?\n\nKris grabbed a fleece sweatshirt and pulled it over her head. Again, she quickly searched for a weapon. Off in a dark corner, where she stored winter skis and snowshoes, was a long slender metal stick. It was a marshmallow roasting stick, yet it had sharp points on the end, in the shape of a fork. Kris wrapped a shaking hand around the end of the wood handle and approached the door.\n\nShe listened closely for any sound that would lead to clues. Nothing. Nothing could be heard. The wind was tossing around a wooden chime hanging off the eaves of the porch.\n\nShe clicked the deadbolt back, and firmly grasped the doorknob. Her heart pounded with extreme force. Lightheaded she pulled the door open a slightly.\n\nExhaling in uneven breaths, Kris peeked out the small opening. Greeted by chilled morning air, she saw no one. Swallowing hard, she opened the door further.\n\n\"It is about darn time, Leibling. Oh, how I miss this look.\" Adam surveyed her body. Leaning back in a leisurely fashion against the porch railing, he smirked at Kris.\n\n\"Holy hell, Adam. What on god's green earth are you doing busting down my door at this hour? What's wrong with you?\"\n\n\"Shit baby, you look good.\"\n\n\"Exactly. And you look like crap.\"\n\nKris remained inside the cabin, with the door slightly ajar, her foot bracing it from being opened further.\n\n\"Is there something in particular I can help you with or are you just here to annoy the snot out of me?\"\n\n\"Aren't you going to invite me in?\" Adam looked the part of para-military freak. He wore black cargo pants with a ratty jacket adorning the name of a prominent outdoor equipment manufacturer. His large hunting knife was attached to a worn nylon belt, and he had a black knit hat covering his pointy head. Even for Adam, this motif was a little severe. Kris sighed heavily.\n\n\"No. Go away. You're not coming in.\" Kris nervously scanned beyond his menacing figure. The small village of houses and common areas looked pretty quiet. At this hour on a Monday morning things were usually chaotic and bustling. Oddly, not on this day.\n\n\"I have some of your stuff. Don't you want it back?\" Adam patted his backpack.\n\n\"This is not a good time.\" Kris began to shut the door.\n\n\"It's never a good time.\" Adam reacted hastily, jutting his boot between the door and frame. Stunned, Kris tripped backward, landing on her elbows. The cold hardness of the wood floor stung sharply. Feeling awkward and clumsy, Kris scrambled to her feet. Adam stepped in and pushed the door closed with a thrust of his hand.\n\n\"Oh darling, that's a very sexy look for you,\" Adam spoke in a pinched voice, hungrily gawking at Kris. Scowling, Kris yanked her sweater tight and crossed her arms. Peering down at the state of her appearance revealed bits of dirt, pine needles and other debris that had been tracked into the cabin from the forest floor. Keeping the cabin tidy on a regular basis was not a task Kris performed. Usually work at the lodge drained all her free time. Hiking was the next priority after work.\n\nWith her senses finally awake Kris focused on getting him out. Anxiety about the rendezvous with Ranger ignited the butterflies in her stomach.\n\n\"Get out,\" Kris shot at him.\n\nAdam seemed very pleased with himself, and strode around in the small space.\n\nKris toyed with playing along with Adam's strange behavior. She was annoyed but wondering what his ulterior motive was. Months had passed without him bantering and trying to heavily inject himself into her life. Why start up with this pestering again? Indeed, Adam had seen her talking to Michael at the hall yesterday. Kris was sure now.\n\n\"You're obviously going hiking. Get out of here and quit bothering me.\" Kris went to her desk and started gathering all the half empty canisters of bear spray.\n\n\"I work today. Boss needs me at 2 o'clock. I told him whoever cleaned those grease traps didn't do it right. I'm not working in a kitchen if the drains are gonna close up,\" Adam's voice oozed with self importance. Without removing his gaze from Kris, he sat on her bunk. Kris felt a pang of anger grip her. He smelled bad. And leaving his mark with foul odor on her bed was the last straw.\n\n\"I really wish you'd leave. Now.\" She dropped an armful of the deterrent bottles into a round metal trash can. Tightly closing her eyes, she desperately tried to remember where she left her cell phone.\n\n\"I love it when you don't wear underwear,\" Adam's voice sank into familiar offensive territory. Kris stopped moving and stood still. This was the very last thing she wanted to hear, yet it was to be grossly expected of Adam.\n\nKris did not take the bait, ignoring his comment. She was wearing tight fitting black leggings, and the sweater did not cover her backside far enough. Adam was surely boring his beady eyes at her rear end. An awkward moment passed. Kris couldn't think of how to get him out. She knew where it was all going. Blankly staring down at the desk, she searched her mind for some terrible comment to spew out that would persuade him to leave.\n\n\"Raina is expecting me. Stop wasting my time and go find something to do.\" With her hands defiantly on her hips she shot him a look of disgust. Instead of heeding her request, Adam pushed off his pack and leaned back into her pillows, placing his hands behind his head. Angry sensations of heat shot up Kris's neck.\n\n\"Right. Tell me another one. Raina never rises before noon. She was throwing back Tequila with several idiots last night. Fucking pricks kept me awake.\"\n\n\"Why didn't you go join them?\" Kris was almost sorry she had chosen not to join up with everyone last night.\n\n\"Liebling, you know me. I can't stand idiots.\" His face contorted into a smirk.\n\n\"Don't call me that.\"\n\nAdam suddenly hauled himself off the bed. Kris swung away from the foreboding advance. Adam was not deterred. Without hesitation, his hands found her waist and hastily pushed aside the fabric of her thin sweater and cotton undershirt. Kris felt his disgusting touch on her shivering skin. She twisted around to thwart the invasion, but it was too late. Adam was taller and much stronger. Like a snake, he coiled his arms around Kris, drawing her up firmly against him.\n\n\"Get off!\" Writhing in attempt to break free, Kris only succeeded in turning him on. Traces of pungent cigarette odor burned her nose. Vulgar sweetness from Adam's alcohol consumption was heavily laced his breath. Instead of releasing his arms from her, he pushed forward so that they were both pressed together against the desk. Kris protested the physical restraint.\n\n\"Adam, no,\" she stressed, \"get the fuck off!\"\n\n\"Look at me.\" Adam coaxed, his voice heavy with lust.\n\n\"Stop it. What makes you think you can do this?\" Defiant, she met his face with fiery eyes. Again, she wriggled to get free.\n\n\"Why don't you scream then? Scream for me baby. You always do. I want to hear you scream and moan.\" Adam thrust his groin into her.\n\nQuickly Kris rose her hand, attempting to slap him, but Adam was quicker, grasping her wrist before the assault.\n\n\"Adam. Adam. I'm not interested. Not anymore.\"\n\nHe loved it when she fought him. The thrill of the chase. The challenge of breaking down her resistance. Her submission and giving into his wants. All of it excited him. Her games turned him on in the past, as well as now.\n\nKris was seething with disgust. If she screamed, the entire camp would hear and she did not want the embarrassing position of making excuses. Moreover, Adam would lie through his yellow teeth, spinning the situation into something it was not. Kris assumed she wasn't in any real danger from Adam, but that this was all her fault in some way. But his stubborn ways would not let her break free. He would persist until she gave in.\n\n\"If you don't get the fuck off me I'm going to have you fired.\" Kris gritted her teeth. Perhaps a direct threat would work. Adam held tight onto her wrist, digging his fingers into her palm.\n\n\"It's been such a long time. Don't you want me inside you?\" The words dripping off his tongue, ignoring her plea.\n\n\"That's it. I'll have your ass arrested. I'm going straight to Dale and tell him you are a demented freak.\"\n\n\"You do that,\" he called her bluff. Kris opened her hand, and Adam forced it down against his crotch quickly.\n\nKris was no match against his physical strength, she knew to get him to stop this sick behavior, she had to outsmart him with wits.\n\n\"I remember the last time you licked my dick.\" Adam was having a heated time, savoring every minute of his dominance over her.\n\n\"I should of bitten it off. No – I should of taken your knife and cut it off completely.\" She writhed to get her other hand free, but he had it pinned with his arm. His sex organ was very erect. Adam was deliriously thrilled with the position he held over her.\n\nWaves of nausea gripped Kris. He'd never gone as far as to have sex forcibly with her. Although the thought of it had always remained in the back of her mind. He was angry and desperate now.\n\n\"Remember the time in my van. We were fucking in the back seat. Outside it was raining so hard.\" Adam continued, lost in some dark memory. Kris had worked long and hard to forget such ridiculous adventures with him.\n\nAdam pressed himself harder into her hand, now squarely backed into the low section of her belly. She couldn't speak. Rancid fluid was making it way up her throat.\n\nAdam made small grunting noises, perhaps revisiting impassioned memories stuck in his head. He was unable to let go of the past. Conversely, Kris was eager to forget all of it. The volatile mix needed to stop. Her confusion was an excuse now. She had to find a way to end this onslaught of sickening behavior from Adam.\n\nWithout warning, knocking on the door interrupted the tense situation. Adam jerked, returning quickly from his fantasy land and assault on Kris. Physically ill, Kris took advantage of his distraction and shoved hard. He did not move much, but it was enough for her to slip away.\n\nMore knocking at the door sounded.\n\nKris's stomach was lurching viciously. Intense pain brought her down to the dusty floor boards. Thrusting her head over a small waste basket, she wretched violently.\n\nAdam's jaw dropped, shocked at the unexpected response from Kris. His distorted thinking told him she was sick due to some other reason. That was why she had not responded to his passionate advances. Food poisoning was likely. Or had she taken medication that morning?\n\n\"Kris!\" It was Raina. Her knocking grew harder, \"Kris! What's wrong? Are you okay?\"\n\nKris vomited again, then shakily sat back on her heels, breathing heavily. She covered her mouth with the sleeve of her jacket. Adam bent down to help, yet Kris swung out at him with her free arm.\n\n\"What's going on in there?\"\n\nThis was the last thing Kris wanted, Raina's shrieking waking the entire camp. Wobbly, Kris rose to her feet. Pale and weakened, her eyes leveled an evil message to Adam. Adam stood dumbstruck in the middle of the room. Kris shakily opened the door.\n\n\"Adam? What are you doing here?\" Raina's face was wrought with concern. She eyed Adam, then Kris on the floor, and knew what had taken place. Kris straightened, but her stomach ached terribly.\n\n\"He was just leaving.\" Kris frowned at Adam.\n\nAdam grabbed his pack gingerly and shrugged arrogantly.\n\n\"What's up Raina? Hangover gone already?\" He moved past and out the door.\n\n\"Shut it,\" Kris commanded in a debilitated tone.\n\n~ ~ ~\n\nRaina strode around the small cabin holding a cup of coffee. Long irregular white ribbons of steam drifted slowly upward.\n\n\"Kris. Buy a gun. Kill the damn bastard. I'll help you. We can shove him off the crevasse above Willow Camp. I can't believe he still does this to you. Why don't you do something, get him fired or arrested.\" Raina paced around the cabin.\n\n\"I'm not buying a stupid gun. And if I retaliate against him, he will think he's smarter than me, and retaliate back. He can lie and tell them all sorts of things, getting me fired.\" Kris lay on her side, motionless on her bunk. With her eyes closed, she was concentrating less on Raina and more on feeling normal again. It was 7:30. One hour, or so, before Ranger would show up for the hike.\n\n\"You can't just sit around and do nothing,\" Raina lowered her voice, and took a gulp of her latte.\n\n\"I am hoping at some point reality will sink in with him. It has to.\"\n\nRaina scoffed hard gazing out the window, \"No it won't. Kris, he's obsessed. Or sick. What the hell was he wearing? It's like he was going out to stalk a moose or something.\"\n\n\"He gets a high from dressing that way.\"\n\n\"He is high if he thinks people aren't talking about what a weird redneck he is.\"\n\n\"Raina, just let me deal with him. Don't do anything, okay?\" Kris knew when Raina got upset enough she came up with deviant ideas about punishing certain people.\n\n\"Kris, maybe you don't know him as well as you think you do.\" Raina sat on the edge of the bed. \"I'm not trying to scare you. But, he's not normal. And most people around here, know that.\"\n\n\"I know. Believe me, you don't have to tell me that.\" Kris sat up, wrapping her arms tightly around her legs. \"I always knew he was a bit off. But now that we're clearly broken up, he doesn't get it. He still thinks I'm going to give in and either sleep with him or get back together.\"\n\n\"You know I have your back, right? I mean if you need my help, at all -\"\n\n\"I know. Okay, okay, I know that, Raina.\" Kris wanted to put this conversation to rest.\n\n\"So. What's happening today? Jake is supposed to have a party later.\" Raina stood up and spilling some coffee onto the floor. \"I heard Terri is bringing Tarot cards. But what does that whore know? Nothing, that's what. By the way, have you seen some of the newbies? Some very cute ass. This is going to be an interesting summer, that's for darn sure,\" Raina spoke fast, hardly thinking as words came shooting out of her mouth.\n\n\"Do I have to give you my speech now, about being safe?\" Fingering the elastic band holding her long ponytail, she gently pulled, freeing the flaxen locks. \"Has your mother given you the talk yet, Miss Raina?\"\n\n\"She gave it to me when I was in Kindergarten. And no speeches from you. I just get depressed.\" Raina opened the door.\n\nKris coughed. She crossed over to a big trunk and heaved it open. For a few moments she dug deeply into the contents which were mostly bunched up clothes. Towards the bottom the garments were neatly positioned. Stuff she never wore unless it was a special occasion. There hadn't been a special occasion in many moons. And even today's impending hike really didn't qualify as special. Maybe putting on some decent attire would help her feel better, physically and mentally. Stuff that didn't reek of campfire smoke, kitchen grease and mosquito repellent.\n\n\"What are you looking in there for?\" Raina knew Kris hardly bothered to open her trunk. It was just used for storage during the season.\n\n\"I, I – thought I lost something,\" Kris lied.\n\n\"And you hid it in there?\"\n\n\"Okay, enough of your snooping. I'm going on a hike today.\"\n\n\"Not by yourself I hope. Go ask Randy. He's awfully lonely lately. I think he might be gay.\" Randy was the only other human in the park that Kris would occasionally hike with.\n\n\"So what if he is?\"\n\n\"I'm not saying it's bad. He just needs to get laid.\"\n\n\"And how is hiking with him going to help with that? Raina your logic is crazy backwards.\"\n\n\"I'm saying you can alleviate his loneliness at least.\"\n\n\"Raina, honestly.\" Kris had enough.\n\n\"Well, okay. Come to the party later though, all right? I'm bringing a huge thing of whipped cream Vodka. I can't get enough hard booze lately.\"\n\n\"You need to slow down on that stuff.\" Raina could use a dry spell.\n\n\"What are you, my mother? Oh, wait, no, my mother would have me chained to the door of a church, so never mind.\" Raina moved further out the open doorway.\n\n\"Have fun. Tell Randy to come to the party. He needs to get his joint worked on.\"\n\nKris frowned harshly, \"Stop being so mean.\"\n\n\"I'm not mean. I'm just stating the obvious.\"\n\nThinking for a moment it was best not to keep Raina in the dark. It would get around camp that Kris was going hiking with the new hot Ranger at some point.\n\n\"I'm not hiking with Randy.\" Kris fidgeted with a buckle on the trunk.\n\nRaina cocked her head in confusion.\n\n\"So? You shouldn't go alone though. Take your baseball bat or something.\"\n\n\"I know. I'm going with the ranger.\"\n\n\"Holy damn! And you weren't going to tell me. Kris -\"\n\n\"I know. But I'm telling you now.\"\n\nRaina smiled. Then came the ear piercing screech that only Raina was known for. A banshee in the night could never produce such a shrill, brain deafening noise. If anyone in the camp remained asleep until that point, they were now wide awake for sure.\nChapter Seven\n\nSeeing the Ranger in plain clothes instead of his green and tan uniform humanized Mr. Ranger a bit more. Kris wondered if he would bring his weapon on the hike. He carried a small red and black backpack, with a water bottle in the mesh holder. He wore faded blue jeans with a thick nylon belt that had a large metal loop buckle. His shirt was a plain dark navy tee. Kris couldn't figure out if he hiked very often. Yet his swift pace and solid gait were strong and effortless. His heavy leather boots ascended rocks and boulders like they were mere pebbles.\n\nKris made little conversation. Instead she tried to hide how out of breath she was due to losing the contents of her stomach earlier and being over worked from the past week. Normally Kris jogged or ran along the valley trails for a distance of 30 or so miles per week. She had neglected regular exercise for quite some time now.\n\nThey hiked for over an hour before stopping at a granite outcropping. A space that jutted out from the heavy cover of the conifer forest.\n\n\"Seems as though the weather is on our side today,\" Michael said.\n\n\"It sure does,\" Kris tried to catch her breath.\n\n\"If you need, I can slow down,\" Michael observed Kris. Her attempt at hiding fatigue was not working.\n\n\"Well don't do that on my account. Just not at my best today.\"\n\n\"We can stay here for awhile,\" Michael said.\n\n\"No, no. My morning sucked. I'll be fine.\" Kris realized she was fooling nobody.\n\n\"As you wish.\"\n\nThey turned back onto the trail. One half mile more and the narrow pathway joined with the heavier traveled route up to Takor Pass and the granite shelf of the high country. It was a steep and rocky trail, rising significantly above the tree line. Kris attempted it many times, usually in the fall after crowds dwindled.\n\nMichael slowed his pace. He was acutely aware something was wrong with Kris that morning, but he decided not to pry.\n\nKris was secretly grateful Ranger slowed some. The elevation was rising with every step. Takor Pass reached 8300 feet, and was the turn around point for many souls. The granite shelf and entrance to high country sat at more than 10,000 feet. It was still a few miles off from their point on the trail.\n\nAttempting to prove she wasn't totally washed out and exempt from politeness, Kris searched her mind for conversational tidbits.\n\nMichael revealed very little during exchanges with Kris along the hike. His past was vague and his former life, mainly a mystery. Kris decided to respect his reluctance in opening up. Very curious, but she was not the type to pry and pursue details about somebody. Although, if she had uncovered, more information in the beginning about Adam, the path of a destructive relationship could have been avoided.\n\nWatching Michael effortlessly hike, was quite sexy. His uniform hid muscular features and assets that she was noticing now.\n\nKris needed to distract herself from drooling over this gorgeous man. She recalled the latest gossip regarding Beth and her non stop drive to find men to manipulate. Rumor had it Beth was quite a sex addict. True or not, she used sex in exchange for getting what she wanted. Kris couldn't imagine what she wanted from any man at White Rock.\n\nMichael seemed to have a fiery connection to Beth. She was his boss after all. Michael didn't seem the type to be manipulated, let alone controlled by a woman. And if Beth were actually attractive, Kris could assume he would look in Ms. Taylor's direction. Oh some thought Beth was a hot lady. Huge boobs, salon quality hair style, her eyes so done up with makeup she resembled a movie star. Many men were initially attracted to such a facade. Once the real personalities emerged, a long term relationship was doomed. Arguably these days a lot of men and women were only looking for a short term roll in the hay. All of it confused Kris on a regular basis.\n\nBeth's presence was never found amidst the spectacular natural wonders of the park. It was uncanny that she found herself squarely in front of the local media so often.\n\n\"So, you transferred from Ametter, right?\" Looking to distract herself from crazy thinking, Kris brought up the spectacular national park to the south.\n\nMichael half smiled, amused, \"Yes.\"\n\nKris licked her dry lips, \"I've been there once. A little different than White Rock. Which area did you work?\"\n\n\"I was a back country ranger for five years. Mainly on the eastern side.\"\n\n\"Below the Barrel Tooth Easement?\" Kris tried to recall specific areas of Ametter and the remote, tough terrain.\n\n\"Yes, that's correct. You're familiar with it?\"\n\n\"Only a little. I backpacked the James St. Claire trail many years ago.\"\n\n\"Which section?\" Michael glanced down at Kris.\n\n\"Ruby Aisle trail head to, uh, a lake I can't remember the name of.\"\n\n\"Devil's Horn.\"\n\n\"Yes, that's it. Devil's Horn Lake. Beautiful. The granite is so polished and surreal there. And the water so clear.\"\n\n\"It gets it's name from the emerald color, and the odd shape.\"\n\n\"Oh, that's right.\" Kris remembered some story about why that particular lake was different than all the rest along the St. Claire trail. Something about the lure to the still water, and people entering it and dying from rapid hypothermia.\n\n\"You went no further than the lake?\"\n\n\"No. My partner became ill. Altitude sickness.\" Getting to the lake several summers ago proved a test of patience and resolve. She felt uncomfortable offering the details of her trip with Adam, to Ranger. Too soon. It was Adam who convinced her of the James St. Claire trail. It was his bloated ego that fueled the jaunt. Adam placed both of them in jeopardy, largely by filling his gullet with whiskey each evening. During the day, tackling the trail was precarious. Adam was dehydrated and making illogical decisions about routes and how many miles to traverse.\n\n\"Sorry to hear that,\" Michael responded with such a smoky undertone that the small hairs on Kris's arm stood up and she was overcome with goosebumps.\n\n\"You must have dealt with a lot of high altitude sickness and hikers up there.\" Kris swallowed but the lump in her throat remained.\n\n\"My patrol area was very remote compared with busier sections. Yes, lots of search and rescue operations. But trail maintenance, and checking outposts took a lot of my time as well.\"\n\n\"I remember some of those little stone huts.\" Kris pulled her clear plastic water bottle off the side of her pack and took a quick drink. The chalky roughness in the back of her throat failed to ease.\n\nSoon they reached the hook in the Takor Pass trail. Several worn out individuals passed by, barely giving attention to the Ranger and Kris. Without words they turned southeast, entering the wider dirt path leading to the high country.\n\n\"You know, you scared the living crap out of us the other night.\" Kris became more relaxed as they hiked on. A few meters off the main trail now, they took a break to enjoy the spectacular view of White Rock valley.\n\nMichael finished taking a long slow drink of his water and recapped the lid.\n\n\"Did I?\"\n\nKris smiled brightly. Surely he knew what a stuffy briefing he gave during the meeting? Although, Kris did not know him well enough yet. Perhaps he was all business with the uniform on.\n\n\"I mean to say, it worked. To some degree.\"\n\n\"I was brought in, after the season started, as I'm sure you are aware.\"\n\nKris blinked and tried to follow his meaning, \"Yes, I knew that.\"\n\n\"I'm not used to addressing civilians.\"\n\n\"Oh?\" _He's ex-military then_ , Kris thought. \"Well you did fine. Can't win with our crowd.\"\n\n\"A motley bunch, for sure.\" He stared off at the horizon.\n\n\"Were you in the armed services?\" Kris asked.\n\n\"Once upon a time.\"\n\n\"I guess it's a good background to have in this line of work?\" Kris tried again to get him to elaborate.\n\n\"Some aspects.\"\n\n\"Well, let me give you a head's up. This place is gossip and rumor crazy. It's hard to say how things get started about people. Especially new people.\"\n\n\"Like me.\"\n\n\"Yeah. Like you. But you're not all that special. Or, well, I mean, doesn't matter who it is, it's like a right of passage to experience the garbage everyone comes up with.\"\n\n\"So what's being said about me?\" Michael looked over at her.\n\n\"Oh, I didn't mean -\" Kris walked head on into that one. No way was she about to explain the weird rumors being spread about him. \"My best friend, Raina, she's more in the middle of these things. I usually stay pretty removed. All I know is you worked in another park.\" Kris sheepishly smiled, hoping he'd by that explanation. She was a bit nervous. She did not wanting to piss him off, or portray herself in a bad way.\n\n\"Don't worry.\" Michael took a step closer and put his hand on her shoulder briefly.\n\nIntelligent conversation escaped her. Kris fought off the inclination to apologize for acting weird and insecure.\n\nShe wished at that moment her social skills were a bit more honed or at least floating above the level of a woodland mouse.\n\nHis strong touch was intoxicating. Whatever they had been discussing, was quickly forgotten about.\n\nA noisy conglomeration of hikers came upon the trail, oblivious to the spectacular views and scenery. Michael remained silent yet keenly alert as they passed.\n\nHe was used to the vast solitude of the James St. Claire trail. This little jaunt was not unlike a freeway at rush hour. However, it was pretty. Perhaps it would be even more visually grand if not for the haze that hung over the valley and the loud tourists. His arrival several weeks ago was quite shocking. Screaming kids, car engines, traffic and a general hum greeted him, tainting his first impression of White Rock.\n\nWatching Kris from the corner of his eye, Michael figured the annoyance of trail traffic, noise and pollution hardly mattered. Spending time with her brought about fresh feelings he'd not experienced in a great deal of years. This wasn't about a quick hook up or a torrid affair with a loose female.\n\nThis introverted blond lass wasn't going to drop her guard too easily, and because of it, Michael respected the situation. He wasn't in a hurry to engage in emotional dealings, especially with women. Kris wasn't naïve he suspected. But she had a purity and innocence that was driving his cautionary behavior. Michael realized his potential involvement with her needed handling with kid gloves due to the collateral damage of his past. The only question remained was whether he should be the one to make the decision on infecting this fair creature, or give her the option to bow out.\n\nKris sat on the edge of a small boulder. Fifteen feet further and the cliff dropped steeply into a sharp canyon littered with felled trees resembling toothpicks. Michael sensed she needed a moment to rest, and she made no attempt to rise and continue on the trail. He casually strolled further up, following the trail direction but remaining in tree cover. Not letting Kris out of his sight, he reached and shifted his pack. The cool of the forest was dissipating fast. Midday sun was bearing down.\n\nShe was consuming, he thought. Lissome, pliant physique. A body gained from some endeavor. Her long, iridescent blond hair begged to be set free, sadly she kept it partially swept up. Unruly strands played hide and seek with her eyes. At times her disheveled presentation seemed to indicate an unbridled spirit. Was it an attempted reign of control but lapse of willingness to hold on to it?\n\nMichael was intoxicated with distraction. Even a mere glance was likened to being drawn into a far away land. Her bold blue eyes forbade him like windows of a haunted house. He desired to draw near, to know what lurked in the unknown. Careful, he thought sternly. Perhaps primeval forces of lust were the drive behind this fascination.\n\nDirecting his misguided thoughts back to the hike, Michael noticed her patiently waiting on the trail. She was obviously ready to continue.\n\n~ ~ ~\n\nOne after another the miles ticked away. Kristjana and Ranger barely uttered a word. Crackling of loose rock and granite resonated with each step.\n\nAn ugly painfulness persistently crept to the forefront of her mind. The sharp, residual memories of hiking this pass with Adam flashed before her. Kris wrestled with the betrayal of being with one man and yet thinking of another. One of the few honest connections she and Adam shared was the love of hiking and exploring in the wilderness.\n\nTakor Pass trail greeted Kris like an old friend now. Perhaps an old, suspicious friend, however. The landmarks, rock and sparse trees were spying, scrutinizing her new accompaniment.\n\nThe requirement to produce small talk did not plague her as badly now. She decided if Ranger wasn't a conversationalist, then perhaps he was boring and had nothing to say. Coming from spectacular Ametter, this place probably resembled the ghetto to him.\n\nThey kept an even pace, Michael allowing her to take the lead through narrow switch backs.\n\nKris's mind continued to wander. Adam was a talker. Talk, talk, talk. Boasting about all his exclusive knowledge, expertise, abilities. It had become so intrusive to Kris that she found herself screaming at him to shut the fuck up on a regular basis. A large crack in her usual quiet behavior demonstrated the severity of problems and ultimately led to the break up months ago. Six months gone by. Adam wasn't giving up on the hope they'd be back together as a couple some day. Kris was aware, he'd been messing around with other females. Rumors pass quickly in a small community, and she'd received an ear full of his sexual promiscuity. Sex was highly important to him. His only way of mistakenly believing he had achieved the ultimate bond with a female.\n\nThe sun reached the high point in the sky casting an intense glare off the granite rock.\n\n\"What elevation do you think this is?\" Kris spoke out as they rounded another sharp bend in the steep trail.\n\nMichael pushed up a sleeve on his arm, revealing a thick watch. He inspected it closely for a moment.\n\n\"I'm reading nine thousand fourteen.\"\n\n\"Wow. It creeps up fast.\" Kris put her hand on her hip.\n\n\"Why don't we go up there. Have something to eat and take a break?\" Michael motioned slightly above the trail, toward some wind stricken trees and large sparkling granite.\n\n\"Sounds fine.\" Kris wasn't about to complain. She was also secretly glad he suggested the rest, instead of her.\n\n\"This is probably like being at sea level for you.\" Kris thought although the altitude was high to her, it was probably not a big deal for him. She sat down against a huge granite boulder. It provided a bit of shade on one side, but the glaring sun off the glacial rocks was intense. She quietly gasped deeply for air.\n\nRanger settled down right near her, gazing out into the rock bound valley. Running his fingers through the front of his dark hair, he settled back against the rock.\n\n\"Nine thousand feet and change, is nothing to sneeze at.\" Michael into his backpack for some food. \"Definitively less oxygen to deal with.\"\n\n\"The valley floor is only four thousand feet. A lot people can't even handle that.\"\n\n\"That's very true. This park has a very competent nurse, however. A better medical facility is lacking unfortunately.\"\n\n\"Oh you met Laura?\"\n\n\"Yes. The other day.\"\n\n\"She's real nice. But you're right. The little clinic or urgent care is kind of a joke. But they treat people with altitude sickness all the time. People that never leave the valley floor, I should add.\"\n\n\"Right.\" Michael gazed over at her, a bit vexed with growing attraction. Kris smiled, unsuspecting of his inner thoughts.\n\nCommonly, visitors not acclimatized to the elevation of the valley floor and experienced disgruntled digestive systems, head aches and loss of appetite. Various over the counter medications and aliments were available at the main store in White Rock. Nurse Laura saw quite a few suffering visitors that were desperate for relief. Most often she sent them back to camp, urging them to drink more water.\n\nKris drank a slow pour of her own water, squinting in the piercing sunlight.\n\nMichael watched her tip the bright blue bottle up to her lips. Trickles of water escaped her mouth and cascaded down the sides of her chin, dripping off onto her thin purple blouse. Oh for heaven's sake, Michael thought. He couldn't help gawk at her secretly, his eyes hidden behind the dark lenses of his sunglasses. A simple act of consuming water and suddenly a seductive switch flicked on in his concupiscent mind. Her shirt appeared to be thin, but even so, the water failed to permeate the fabric and dripped onto the dirt.\n\nThe intense warmth of the white granite created a discomfort. While Michael was accustomed to hiking with a shirt off, he decided it was not appropriate right then. He very much needed to stop thinking of clothing all together at that very minute. Ripping off attire was just feeding other salacious thoughts.\n\nTearing his gaze from Kris, he took a large bite of an energy bar. Hardly chewing, he swallowed the tasteless protein.\n\n\"Pretty up here,\" Michael broke the silence.\n\nKris brought her hand up to her lips to wipe away the water. Uh oh. Now they were reduced to finding polite things to talk about.\n\n\"I haven't been here in awhile. It can be a popular trail on a day like this. Nothing like the St. Claire though.\"\n\nMichael let her statement roll around in his mind for a few moments before responding.\n\n\"It's nice that you can come hike this whenever you feel like it. The James St. Claire is hard to reach, with only a few access points. Not a day hike or a spur of the moment trip.\" Pristine beauty was one thing. Loneliness and an almost complete lack of human contact was not always an easy thing to deal with on the remote St. Claire trail.\n\n\"Lame of me to compare both trails.\"\n\n\"It's okay, I know what you mean.\" Finishing his snack, Michael carefully twisted up the wrapper and stuffed it into his pack. He took a long drink of water.\n\n\"Would you go back?\" Kris asked.\n\n\"Would I go back? To working the trail?\"\n\n\"Yes.\" Kris was trying to get a better idea of why he left, and now was in a position of interacting with the public on a daily basis.\n\n\"I would go back for pleasure, but not to work the back country.\"\n\n\"What made you chose this crazy place?\"\n\n\"White Rock is a unique place. I was happy when they asked for my transference here.\" Michael refrained from further elaboration.\n\nKris pulled her legs up close to her body and wrapped her arms around her knees. She wanted to close her eyes for a moment. Half of her hair found its way free from the constraints she enacted earlier. The breeze played with her free locks, and she made no attempt to fool around with beautifying herself.\n\n\"You were saying something before, about your background?\" Kris said.\n\nA slow introspective smile spread across Michael's face. His eyes were fixated on some rocks. When and how much personal information to divulge was a balancing act. Surely wild rumors were viciously circling the camp at this point. Kris could either hear the true story from him now, or he could mop up the mess later.\n\nOld piercing details of his former life surged and he instinctively fought back mentally. The past was never just the past. Some parts of it resurface no matter what.\n\nKris glanced at him, patiently waiting. Why were men so mysterious? They placed too much emphasis on things that were really trivial. Perhaps it was an ego thing. Or primal thing. Kris breathed in the sweet scent of pine trees, enjoying a playful breeze swirling in and out of the large rocks.\n\n\"As you mentioned before, the rumors will come out, if they haven't already.\"\n\n\"Rumors are unkind. I was just curious, that's all.\" Kris decided she was pushing it.\n\n\"I'd be very surprised if you haven't heard at least one negative thing about me so far.\"\n\n\"I never put much weight behind what I hear at this place.\" Kris thought back to the campfire meeting.\n\nMichael bore a glance in her direction and then focused into the distance, as if scanning for something in particular.\n\n\"I seem to attract some attention for the wrong reasons.\" He knew he sounded like a confusing idiot.\n\n\"Because you're good looking?\" Kris felt the words leave her mouth before she thought too hard, \"I mean -\"\n\nMichael smiled to himself\n\n\"Dare I suggest as well that your beauty attracts attention that isn't always warranted?\"\n\nKris was highly perplexed. Was that just a compliment or something else? She sat patiently, wondering if going on this hike with him was a mistake.\n\n\"I'm a former U.S. Navy Seal,\" he said. It was now or never. Otherwise she could be festering with certain nasty rumors that he was a former mercenary or hit man.\n\n\"Oh. Well. So I guess that makes sense.\" Kris wanted to slap herself for such a bumbling response. She was well aware of ex-military joining the park service. Not a shocker. But this detail about Michael did explain his disciplined actions and behaviors.\n\n\"You'll hear some other things about me for sure.\"\n\nKris swallowed and then the idea popped into her head. \"What did you do in the service?\" Obviously there was something that connected in his background to being head of security and ranger at a national park.\n\n\"I was trained and then specialized in certain unit.\" The unsettling raw familiarity crept back.\n\nKris took note of the slight change in his demeanor.\n\n\"Sorry, you don't have to tell me.\"\n\n\"I think it's better you have some understanding.\"\n\n\"Okay.\" Why should she have some understanding?\n\n\"Unconventional warfare operations,\" he said refraining from eye contact. Kris was unsure what this meant. Typical guy she thought. Making a big deal out of nothing.\n\n\"So, you have some kind of training that's helpful to us?\" Kris tried to draw the reference to the park.\n\n\"Perhaps,\" his voice dropped, \"there's just a component that I'm not too proud of.\"\n\nKris frowned for a moment and then took a guess.\n\n\"Discharged?\"\n\n\"Well no, I essentially retired.\"\n\n\"Essentially?\" Kris asked.\n\n\"I suppose there are certain unspoken things in the military.\"\n\n\"You hurt someone?\"\n\n\"Let's just say I'm trained in certain tactics that can achieve a desired outcome, especially in a difficult situation.\"\n\n\"You didn't answer my question.\"\n\n\"You already know the answer.\" Michael's eyes dug deep into Kris's. She was a bit taken aback.\n\n\"I'm not trying to scare you,\" he said, \"I think my motive in bringing this up is to warn you.\"\n\nBefore, it was rumor control, but now it was a warning? She didn't know what to say.\n\nMichael tried to lesson the severity of his tone.\n\n\"I'm not so self inflated as to describe myself in a way that puts me on a level above regular people.\"\n\n\"Now you're sounding like my ex,\" Kris snorted.\n\n\"Do I? Perhaps we should meet.\"\n\n\"Oh you'll meet him.\"\n\nKris dug the toe of her shoe into the dirt. Maybe he had some post traumatic stressed disorder, causing a failure in the ability to hold a regular conversation. This was odd. A different oddity than Adam, but bizarre nonetheless.\n\n\"I'm sure a lot of false information will come out about me. A lot of stuff that may get confusing. I'm sorry to alarm you.\" The edginess of his voice let go and Michael touched the top of her knee with his index finger.\n\n\"I appreciate that,\" Kris exhaled unevenly. His touch sparked a thread of electricity. Her throat had run dry.\n\n\"I want to get to know you,\" he said.\n\nKris found her brain somewhere else, rapidly descending into a chasm where the English language didn't exist. She managed a polite smile in his direction.\n\nIf it weren't for a persistent breeze, she was positive her entire body would have been engulfed in flames. Pressing her back into the granite rock, she grappled with insecurity akin to a nervous school girl.\n\nMichael decided to stand and stretch.\n\n\"Think we ought to start back?\" It was more of a statement than a question, but he was enjoying how Kris attempted to hide her unsteadiness.\n\n\"I suppose so.\" A little overcome with nervous jitters, she began brushing off bits of dirt and scree stuck her to pants. Her heart pulsated in irregular beats. She need not glance up in his direction to know he watched, and watched closely.\n\nMichael grappled in the fluctuation of his thoughts. Averting his attention he scanned the network of trails below. More locks of Nordic blond hair fell into her face as a breeze picked up. The bright sunlight reflected off her iridescent hair in striking fashion. Before her nervous fidgeting could come to completion, he approached. Standing quite tall over her, his voice resonated deeply, hauntingly. Kris halted her nervous behavior and straightened.\n\n\"May I?\" he gazed down at her, offering a hand in effort to lead her off the rocks and onto the trail.\n\nKris cleared her throat, not saying yes but not denying his help either. Being so close to him magnified the strength and form of his rock solid body. Intimidated, Kris wasn't sure what to do.\n\n\"Everything all right?\" Michael asked.\n\nShe fought for something witty and smart to say. Instead, her mind was irritatingly blank.\n\nMichael was no stranger to recognizing a flight response and Kris was a classic example at that moment. Placing his fingertips on the upper side of her arm, he slowly ran his fingers over her skin and down her forearm until grasping her hand.\n\nBefore Kris could resist, he leaned down slightly, and softly placed his lips to hers. Kris could hardly breathe and felt her heart stop altogether. Intertwining his fingers into hers, his mouth was respectfully gentle in the caress. His warm breath softly brushed over her face.\n\nHis overpowering presence and male aroma brought goosebumps upon her arms. It was not enough to sample a single breath of his scent. Kris grew more and more addicted. Rich, woodsy smoke danced before her thoughts. Deep musky undertones hid beneath the surface of this mysterious man.\n\nAbsorbing her apprehension, Michael placed his other hand along her jawline. He slid his fingers behind her ear, into her hair. Furthering his touch, his hand came around the nape of her neck, slightly drawing her into him.\n\nKris instantly awoke to inflamed sensations throughout her body. His touch melted off her anxious thoughts about what was happening. She opened her mouth, kissing him harder.\n\nTasting her. Feeling her. It all tormented him. Michael hit an imaginary wall, not knowing whether to cross the boundary of restraint or obey curiosity. She did not merely accept his mouth, but furthered the intensity of kiss. The way she moved her lips against his, toying delicately with his tongue, seamlessly mating her mouth to his. Waves of energy poured through him. His midsection was on fire. He teetered on the edge of indecision. Michael greatly craved to deepen the kiss, to pull their bodies tightly close, letting her feel his searing heat and engorging situation. Though, it was too much, too early for such things. He resisted the ravenous inclination to seduce her. She needn't be apprised of his voracious hunger yet.\n\nRetracting from her proved harder than he imagined. But he managed. His fingers traced the side of her face until touching the side of her wet mouth. Letting his eyes graze over her impassioned expression filled him with the urge to take her once more. As she unsteadily withdrew, and licked her lips as if to encompass the taste of him, Michael surged with anticipation. Delightfully, she was not the innocent little creature he assessed her to be.\n\nMichael ached to kiss Kris again and again. However, now was not the time. It was unlike him to be wrestling with self control. Training dictated self restraint, retention of desire. It had been a long time since someone struck a match and lighted this fire within him. He needed to find out where this interlude with this girl was headed.\n\nMany times he observed Kris from a distance at camp. Her interactions with some sub-creature named Adam were odd, peculiar to figure out. At one point Michael was sure that this abrasive male and Kris were romantically involved. Now he was fairly sure this degenerate was the ex-boyfriend Kris had referred to. This Adam character lacked respect for women, that was dangerously clear. But Michael lost some objectivity with Kris. Thoughts of her were persistent, even amongst all the crappy bull shit that headquarters saddled him with.\n\n\"I thought we were going?\" Kris asked.\n\nMichael leaned down again and placed his lips to the side of her mouth, kissing her gently, drawing in her sweet smell.\n\nKris relished the smoothness of his skin and prayed for a kiss full on the mouth one more time. But it did not happen.\n\n\"Why don't you get going? I'll catch up,\" excusing himself, he swiftly picked up his pack. Michael needed a moment of composure alone. Quite the opposite of shy, yet not wanting to be shocking or rude in Kris's presence, Michael deemed it best to let things cool off for a few moments.\n\n\"Oh, sure,\" Kris smiled, reverting to her usual introverted self.\n\nMichael watched Kris walk lower and lower to the trail until disappearing.\n\nKris's mind was in a ferocious storm. She couldn't sort out what had just taken place. Instead of enjoying the unexpected kiss, her insecurity rose up and put conflicting ideas in her mind. On one had, he had kissed her. Passionately. And his kiss was amazing. On the other hand, why did it stop so abruptly? He was quick to end the contact.\nChapter Eight\n\nWhen Michael finally caught up with Kris, she was oddly silent and void of nonsensical conversation. Both were fatigued from the hike and silently trying to assess each other's reaction from the kiss earlier in the day. Kris was convinced that she did not meet his expectations. Now the awkward phase would commence.\n\nIt was seven in the evening by the time they reached camp. Michael walked Kris to her cabin and she politely thanked him for the hike. The departure was dry and abrupt.\n\nEarlier, before reaching the valley, Michael brought out the portable two way radio that practically never left his side. Checking in with headquarters he quickly learned there had been another attack. It was his day off but technically he was on-call 24 hours per day, 7 days a week.\n\nKris promised him she would be careful, and perhaps they would meet up later, the two parted ways.\n\nKris was in a hurry, gathering a change of clothes and toiletries for the shower. Determined to get a good stall before the evening shift got off, she quickly locked up her cabin and started down the path to the stone shower hut.\n\nBarely a glimmer of sunlight was left. A few workers were relaxing on the cabin porches, having drinks, laughing and enjoying the evening. Kris waved to a few, but kept a swift pace. Avoiding Adam was priority number one. He was a snake that kept turning up when least expected.\n\nThe evening was warm and surreal. The damp, dreary spring was giving way to a real summer at last. The air was stagnant. Smoke from campfires and cook-outs drifted through the valley and thick pockets of trees.\n\nA few passing co-workers commented on the new attack. Nobody knew actual details, only fragmented bits of information.\n\nKris couldn't distract her heightened state of awareness. With more than a day's worth of adrenaline almost gone, and new worries that the attacker was still on the loose, reality quickly sunk in. She decided that after the shower she would return to the cabin and look hard to find some sort of weapon. A mangy baseball bat used to reside under her bed.\n\nKris knew little about guns, and although many in camp talked about purchasing a firearm outside the park, it wasn't a priority in her mind. In fact it was downright uncomfortable to think of handling a gun. A popular sports store in Matherville, just outside White Rock, sold a variety of weapons. Kris wondered if she could work up the gumption to arm herself. She liked the idea of bear spray as a self defense tactic, but the large canister was cumbersome to carry. She hauled around enough junk from work to cabin and back again every day.\n\nReaching the stone steps of the staff shower building, she greeted by familiar faces. The females were understandably more disturbed than the guys.\n\nJoseph Donati, who worked in the kitchen at Willow Camp Lodge was yammering on about how he'd blow the son-of-a-bitch to kingdom come. He was sure it wasn't someone from staff committing the attacks, rather a rogue intruder disguised as a tourist. Jake McAllister and Simon Trader boasted in detail how they would be first in line to take down the perpetrator.\n\n\"What's going on Kris?\" Angela Bello sat on a small round stool at the entrance to the showers. She nervously fingered a cigarette in one hand and a small orange lighter in the other.\n\n\"Not too much, Angela.\"\n\n\"I take it you heard? Why can't they catch whoever is doing this?\" Angela's voice shook. It was unlike the stout female to unravel or show fear.\n\nKris wavered on the top step. Tired, she didn't know what to say to soothe the girl.\n\n\"They'll catch whoever it is.\" Kris thought back earlier to what Michael said, how he had been hired for a reason.\n\n\"What did you do today? Anything fun?\" Angela was looking up anxiously at Kris.\n\n\"Oh, nothing really. Went up Takor.\"\n\n\"Yeah? Busy?\" Angela flicked ashes from her cigarette onto the ground.\n\n\"Lots of people, yeah. Annoying.\" Kris brushed her hair back, not sure if word had gotten out that her hike involved the Ranger.\n\n\"I think Adam was looking for you earlier.\"\n\n\"Over here?\" Kris frowned.\n\n\"I think. Hey Jake!\" Angela yelled out to the dirty blond male goofing off and holding a beer in one hand.\n\n\"Jake!\" Angela raised her voice, impatient for him to respond. Jake seemed oblivious to Angela.\n\n\"That's okay, I don't care. I need to get going -\" Kris said, motioning toward the door.\n\n\"Wait just a darn second. Jake! Hey asshole!\"\n\n\"What?!\" Finally Jake quite ignoring the call for his attention and strode over to the girls.\n\n\"Kris wants to know where Adam is.\"\n\n\"No, no, I don't. You said he was looking for me. I just, wanted to -\"\n\n\"Yeah, he was over here like an hour ago or something. Being weird.\" Jake took a sip of his beer offering it to Kris.\n\n\"No thanks.\"\n\n\"Jake you haven't even been here an hour. It's been like ten minutes,\" Angela grew cross.\n\n\"Bitch, I've been here longer than you.\" Jake turned to go back to his other friends.\n\n\"Jerk,\" Angela hissed and tossed her cigarette to the ground.\n\n\"Well, I'm off to shower now. You, guys, uh, have a nice evening, okay?\" Kris was quite eager to depart. It was common for Angela and Jake to spar. She harbored a crush for him but he downplayed her feelings which caused a lot of friction.\n\nAngela was no longer listening to Kris and got up, shuffling over to Jake and his friends to further antagonize him. Kris pushed hard on the heavy wooden door and went inside just before the voices grew loud and raucous.\n\n~ ~ ~\n\nKris finished combing through her long wet hair. The front door to the shower building started creaking open and slamming shut as more people entered the small building. Noisy talk of the attack filled the air. Details were emerging, but not enough to piece together what actually happened, or who the victim was.\n\n\"I'll never understand why you keep that mane so darn long,\" a familiar voice rang out.\n\nKris shoved her comb into her little yellow canvas bag and started searching for a flashlight.\n\n\"Hi Terri. What's going on?\" Kris spoke with little enthusiasm.\n\n\"Party going on. Tonight. You gonna come?\" She crossed her arms and pressed her plump rear end up against the stainless steel sink.\n\n\"Probably not,\" Kris said.\n\n\"Come on girl. You never hang with us anymore.\" Terri waved to another person just entering the building.\n\n\"I was on a long hike today. I just want to go to bed,\" Kris said.\n\nA wicked smile erected upon Terri's face. \"Yeah. Heard about that.\"\n\n\"About my hike?\"\n\n\"Way I heard it, you weren't alone.\" Terri snapped her gum, staring at Kris.\n\nKris dropped her flashlight.\n\n\"So, what's he like?\" Terri lowered her voice. Terri was the park's biggest gossip hound. When it came to men in the park, especially new ones, she butted her nose right into everyone's private life.\n\n\"We just hiked. That's it.\" The less details, the better.\n\n\"Sure you did,\" Terri fluffed up her hair, \"and this is my natural color.\"\n\n\"Just leave it alone. Please?\" Kris grew irritated.\n\n\"Sheesh. I can't have a little fun? Well, okay. I'll drop it for now. But you need a man. In more ways than one.\"\n\n\"Whatever,\" Kris's voice was barely audible.\n\n\"Come to the party, though, okay?\" Terri drifted off, spotting other people to annoy. \"You need a drink.\"\n\nKris smiled politely. Not wanting to repeat her answer of decline, she quickly brushed her teeth. It was time to get the hell out of the shower building.\n\nThe red headed socialite never usually paid much attention to Kris. Terri lived a life of unrestrained activity. She was very proud of her racy tattoos and body piercings. Fond of skin tight clothes, heavy eye make up and strong perfume, Terri never seemed to worry about anything. She was pushing thirty years old and had no college education or career aspirations. Her winters were spent in southern California on the back seat of her boyfriend's motorcycle. Five years Terri's junior, Kris was highly reluctant to respond to a party invitation or strike up meaningless conversation with the fireball. However, on this night, who in their right mind was going to sleep anyway? Kris realized attending the party wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.\n\n~ ~ ~\n\nOutside, Kris greeted the warm night air cautiously. She hurriedly made her way down the stone steps and onto the rock path towards the cabins. Lots of people were out and about. It was going to be a long night. No Adam in sight, so there was hope.\n\nKris approached the roundabout. Thoughts of Michael cropped up quickly. Unsettled about the situation, she was trying not to think about the kiss, yet it was impossible to forget.\n\nShe approached and slowed her pace. Michael's truck was parked on the edge of the circular drive. Apprehension flooded her. No headlights were on, not even the exterior parking lights. Maybe it really wasn't his truck. It could be someone else's Dodge.\n\nKris forced herself to think of getting ready for the party. Assuming the part was at Jake's place, Kris had time to go back to her own cabin first. She needed to find some decent clothes. Something a little less shabby. Raina had borrowed just about every decent piece of attire from Kris. And Raina's definition of borrowing didn't involve returning.\n\n\"Must have been a long shower,\" a voice sounded in the dark.\n\nKris tripped. She swung around looking for the stalker. Dropping her bag she grasped her flashlight tightly.\n\n\"Sorry,\" Michael apologized, appearing out of the darkness.\n\nKris's breathing was shallow but her heart was racing.\n\nMichael instantly felt bad. \"I didn't mean to scare you.\"\n\n\"No problem. You did but that's okay,\" Kris lied. She blinked in the darkness and clicked off her light. Her rapidly beating heart was causing an ache in her chest.\n\nMichael gently settled his commanding eyes into her bewildered expression.\n\n\"Walking alone in the dark is a bit ambitious.\"\n\n\"Stupid you mean,\" Kris coughed. \"Shower wasn't long just crowded. Well, I mean, my shower wasn't crowded, but the building was.\"\n\n\"Ah. Odd place for everyone to hang out.\"\n\n\"Yes. Rather annoying.\" Kris swallowed hard. \"Anyway. Did you find the attacker?\"\n\n\"Unfortunately, no.\" Michael placed his hand on her shoulder, leading her off the trail and into the tree cover. Kris grew increasingly lightheaded. She assumed he didn't want to be seen talking to her.\n\n\"You really need to be more careful out here,\" he explained in a deepening voice.\n\nKris felt shivers run up her bare arms.\n\n\"Um, because of new attack?\"\n\n\"Yes. I just don't want to see you harmed.\"\n\nKris flushed with warmth. It would seem he was quite concerned for her best interests.\n\n\"I won't be.\"\n\n\"I'm glad you suggested the hike today,\" Michael said.\n\n\"We should go again sometime.\" Kris either needed to mentally squash a large seed of insecurity or seek therapy immediately. The way he spoke was different than most people. He could be so direct. It was unfamiliar.\n\nMichael grasped her hand unexpectedly and took several more steps away from the trail. Kris had no choice but to follow his lead.\n\n\"I need to get going. I'm on duty tonight.\" He stared down at her.\n\n\"Oh, of course. It was nice to see you. I'm on my way to a party anyway.\"\n\n\"I just wanted to tell you I enjoyed being with you today. I also needed to clear up something.\"\n\n\"Sure,\" Kris said. He would now tell her what she feared and already imagined. That he had a great time and was no longer interested.\n\n\"I didn't want it be be awkward,\" Michael said.\n\n_Here it comes_ , Kris thought.\n\n\"You are aware of the park rules surrounding workers of hierarchy involving themselves with -\"\n\n\"A lowly waitress?\" Kris interrupted.\n\n\"That's not what I meant.\" He grasped the front of his duty belt.\n\n\"I know what you mean. And don't worry, I won't be a problem for you.\" Kris moved away, but Michael caught her arm.\n\n\"Where are you going? Kris, can I say this please?\"\n\n\"If you're going to lecture me on the park rules, don't bother. People around here break them all the time so using them as an excuse for why you can't continue to see me is lame.\" Kris resisted his grasp.\n\n\"Hold on.\" He let go, and Kris stumbled back a little. Michael instantly recognized the defensive mechanism. It was a bit premature. Obviously Kris had been through perhaps similar entanglements and was quick to protect herself.\n\n\"My intent was not to put your position and my position in jeopardy,\" Michael said.\n\n\"Oh, I see. Thanks for thinking of my job. How thoughtful.\"\n\nShe was closing off emotionally. Michael grasped his ranger hat, throwing it to the ground and took a step toward her.\n\n\"You misunderstand.\" He threaded his fingers around the back of her head into damp hair.\n\n\"I'm willing to risk punishment of the harshest kind if it means being near you.\" He spoke, his lips almost grazing hers.\n\n\"Then I am totally confused.\" Kris responded in a harsh whisper.\n\n\"I'm trying to tell you that if we get involved it could be quite messy. Perhaps the better choice is to avoid me completely.\"\n\n\"And why would I want to do that?\" Kris said. Defiance crept up. \"If this is a choice, don't make it for me. That is unless you are having doubts.\"\n\nMichael pressed his lips into hers, moving over her soft flesh and deeply penetrating his tongue into her mouth. The scent of her freshly cleaned skin captivated his senses. Michael fought the urge to remove what little clothing she had on, running his hands over her naked skin. Forgetting entirely he was on duty and in uniform, he kissed her even harder.\n\nKris put her hands to his face and then wrapped her arms around his neck, enveloped in his intoxicating embrace. If it weren't for a voice crackling through his radio, both of them would have been oblivious to time and space, giving into ravenous urges.\n\nMichael reached between their bodies pushing the volume on the dial down.\n\n\"Aren't you going to answer that?\" Kris asked, breathing heavily.\n\nMichael nodded, clearly betwixt by their oral copulation.\n\n\"Might we take this up another time?\" Michael said.\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"You have a party to attend.\"\n\n\"Oh yeah.\" Kris had forgotten completely.\n\n\"At least we got that straightened out.\" Michael spoke with an edge of sarcasm. He really didn't want to see Kris get in trouble because of his ferocious curiosity and desire.\n\n\"Don't worry about my job. It's a love-hate kind of thing,\" Kris said.\n\nMichael assumed they had more in common than he first thought.\n\nThey stepped back onto the trail. Lights glowed in the distance.\n\n\"Why do I feel like a high school kid about to get caught for doing something bad?\" Kris picked up her canvas bag laying next to a tree.\n\nMichael only smiled and kissed her again. He whispered, \"Be careful,\" and started toward the roundabout. Kris was inclined to stroll lazily in the afterglow of his powerful embrace, but she pushed herself not to linger. After all, there was a dangerous criminal afoot in White Rock.\nChapter Nine\n\nA Party\n\nWarm air settled over the camp that evening. Kris was having difficulty in choosing appropriate attire for the party. Her real problem was that she didn't want to go at all. It was a certainty that Adam would show up. She didn't want to look like a nun but didn't want to ignite Adam's crude attention either. Taking a big gulp of sugary liquid, she felt her heart race a little. Placing the orange and blue can down on the desk, she held up a pair of low riding jeans and black sweatshirt with silver metallic writing on the back. The jeans had a bit of pine tree sap stuck eternally to the hem of the legs, but otherwise they would do.\n\nLicking the underside of her upper lip she tasted fruit flavored lip gloss. Kris was no stranger to cosmetics, however she was more inclined toward the natural approach to beauty. White Rock wasn't the city but it wasn't so far removed from everyday culture that people ran around like backwoods hicks. Also, it wasn't too common to go shopping for things in the nearby towns. The local store in the valley of the park did not carry a wide selection of beautification products either.\n\nWith her freshly washed hair half pulled up the rest cascaded down past her shoulders. Kris reached up and yanked the elastic band from her head, freeing her hair. She was no good at styling it. It was it's own entity, her hair. Iridescent white blond was the color she was born with. Teased about being a Norse goddess or Swed, Kris rarely answered to such idiotic references. However, staring at herself squarely in the mirror tonight, her Scandinavian ancestry was unmistakable. Kris began tracing the lower lid of her eye with dark liner. Her large blue eyes hardly needed accentuating against the stark contrast of her blond hair. After a little effort her eyes were transformed into rich, smoldering features. She threaded little metal earrings with purple crystals into her ear lobes.\n\nThe raucous commentary from co-workers would be obnoxious. She was prepared for the usual sexual remarks and tomboy jokes. Hopefully the badgering wouldn't sting too badly tonight.\n\n~ ~ ~\n\nShoving her hands into her pockets Kris stopped about twenty feet from Jake McAllister's cabin. Loud music was draining out into the night. A good variety of people hung out everywhere.\n\n\"Oh my fucking mama. Kristjana! Wholly shit!\"\n\n\"And I thought I could blend in.\" Kris stepped forth.\n\n\"Hells to the no! All that's missing is a nice stiff drink in your hand. Come with me.\" Jake was grinning from ear to ear.\n\n\"Nothing too exotic, you hear me? I'm not waking up in the lake.\"\n\nJake laughed out loud. \"You know, I should wise up and ask you out. Just one thing though -\"\n\n\"And that is?\"\n\n\"You're too good for me.\" Jake burst out in his usual deep booming laugh.\n\n\"Jake, get lost and quit molesting the guests.\" Terri White came up from behind. \"Don't listen to him,\" she said, taking Kris firmly by the hand. \"He's as horny as the devil. Come on, let's up go.\" Terri pulled Kris up the steps.\n\n\"You'd know all about the devil, Terri!\" Jake yelled after her and then rejoined some friends that were building a bonfire pit.\n\nKris tried to push away the insecurities that arose out of the dank night air. The quicker she could get buzzed, the better. Ascending narrow stairs she pushed and stepped over several people.\n\n\"Jake's place is fucking hot, and I don't mean in a good way. Drinks are on the end of the deck. Simon and Joseph are on their way. Had to drive all the way into Matherville to get booze. Fuck this park.\" Terri talked a mile a minute. She tipped a large glass filled with amber liquid to her fluorescent pink lips.\n\n\"I should of brought something.\" Kris surveyed the selection of drinking options. Mostly beer.\n\n\"Shit no! Guys are buyin'! No girls shelling out for this night.\"\n\n\"You haven't seen Raina, by chance?\" Kris asked. Her exuberant friend was nowhere in sight.\n\n\"She was here earlier. Ran off. Higher than a kite.\" On more than one occasion Raina rubbed Terri the wrong way and it stuck. Terri pretended to like her, but Kris saw through her transparent attitude.\n\n\"So miss, where is the fucking hot ranger? I thought you would bring him.\" Terri probed, fingering her bright red hair.\n\nKris coughed. She knew there was some reason Terri was so bothersome back at the showers.\n\n\"Working.\"\n\n\"Well we both know that means nothing. Should of brought him.\"\n\n\"Next time,\" Kris lied. Take Michael to one of these flesh fests? No darn way.\n\n\"Everyone says he and Beth are shacking up. What a total whore. And she's convincing nobody with that cheap hair color.\"\n\n\"I see.\" Kris winced. Not five minutes at the party and already the vicious rumors were flying around.\n\n\"Oh, but don't worry. I'm sure he stopped porking Beth the minute you hooked up with him,\" Terri blurted out so fast that Kris didn't have time to respond. With a fake smile across her bright lips, Terri took off pushing her way back through the crowd of people.\n\nKris grabbed a bottle and twisted off the top, dropping it into an orange bucket. Already the night was off and running with a round of gossip about Michael, and Raina being a no-show.\n\n\"Terri get you set up?\" Jake appeared at the top of the steps. His cheeks were flushed red and eyes glassy.\n\n\"Yes.\" Kris took a long drink of the beer.\n\n\"Great.\" Jake clapped his hands together.\n\n\"Come down to the fire. Can't fit no more people on this deck.\" He jammed his hand deep into the icy water of the open cooler. \"Gotta get one down here. The ones at the top are still warm.\" He popped off the top of a beer and fizzing liquid poured out.\n\n\"I had no idea you had normal clothing.\" Jake ignored the mess he was making.\n\n\"Quite shocking, isn't it?\" Kris said.\n\n\"Yes ma'am. Well. I'm gonna go back down.\" He smiled loosely and moved past.\n\nKris gazed down upon a mob of people. Joseph and Simon had arrived with a metal cart stacked with boxes of booze. Loud rock music pulsated through the air. She couldn't see Adam anywhere. He hated social events so it would crazy to expect him.\n\nA few minutes later out of the corner of her eye, Kris caught sight of a familiar buzz cut head. She cursed under her breath. Where in the heck was Raina?\n\nMore people pushed their way to the top steps and made useless but polite conversation with Kris. Careful to keep herself partially hidden in the crowd, Kris hoped Adam would drink his spongy liver into a prune and pass out in the forest.\n\nTwisting off the cap to her second beer a tall lanky male wielding a bottle of clear spirits suggested he pour some of it into hers. It turned out to be lemon rum and quite a good complement to the cheap, crappy beer she was nursing. Kris sucked it down quite readily.\n\n\"Kris!\" Raina's voice penetrated the chatter. \"What the hell are you doing?\" Breathless, she bounced up against Kris.\n\n\"Where the heck have you been?\" Kris asked.\n\n\"Adam's here.\"\n\n\"I know.\" Kris brought the glass to her lips and took a substantial drink.\n\n\"Good idea. Blur the sonuvabitch out. Let's go down, it's too crowded up here.\"\n\nKris bobbed her head in agreement.\n\nNo sooner had they reached the bonfire did Raina stumble off. Kris noticed her own balance and steadiness were already impaired. She was instantly reminded of a rafting trip last summer down the Kwoluck river. Stupidity led her to stand up after drinking too much in the hot summer sun. Almost losing an oar and jumping into the cold water after it, she vowed never to combine alcohol and outdoor activities again. Maybe nighttime parties should be included.\n\nRaina moved off to a group of people sitting in beach chairs. Kris sat down next to crude dirt pit constructed for the fire. Craggy logs hissed and popped, sending out large plumes of sparks.\n\n\"Still hate Vodka, babe?\"\n\nThe voice stabbed at her ears. Kris wobbly swung around and dug her nails into her hip.\n\n\"One for you.\" He lifted a drink toward her. Kris stood motionless.\n\n\"No thanks Adam.\" Kris stood up, ready to relocate herself from Adam.\n\n\"Try it. Too sweet for me. Just like you darling.\"\n\n\"What part of no don't you understand?\"\n\n\"I'll get you another beer if you hate it.\" A cocky smile spread across his thin lips. He held the liquor out to Kris.\n\nInstead of making a scene and loosing composure, Kris politely reached out and grabbed the thick glass with two hands. Inspecting the light purple booze, Kris moved off toward the fire. With her back turned to Adam, she brought the heavy glass to her lips and let the alcohol seep into her mouth. It was horrifically sweet. She took several more sips of it and then sank down onto the dirt.\n\nAdam stalked over and joined her soon enough. His glass was nearly empty. Kris struggled to remain aloof. Internally her thoughts were muddy and illogical. Adam plopped down and leaned backward onto his elbows.\n\n\"Glad I decided to come.\" His statement was inaudible on purpose. Adam was very happy in his decision to check out the party. And he was quite relieved to find Kris in attendance. It meant she was not off with the Ranger.\n\n~ ~ ~\n\nMichael went slightly out of his way to keep an eye on the party that evening. He stayed well out of view which was not hard given the oblivious attendees. Staff parties of this kind and size were against park regulations. Michael did not see the harm in letting it continue as long as nobody got out of control and guests of the park did not make their way over to the staff camp.\n\nMichael inspected Kris's behavior from the hidden shroud of thick pines at the far side of camp. She was consuming alcoholic beverages at a worrisome pace. He would not stop her in the process of getting drunk. Perhaps she did this often. By all indications Kris didn't seem like the party-type. It was feasible that she was just looking for a release or way to relax in the wake of increasing park stress. The attacks were still taking place and each one was changing in intensity.\n\nMichael leaned against a thick pine tree slowly crossing his arms and observing Kris and her ex-boyfriend. They seemed to be getting along.\n\nThe longer Michael stood and watched, the more restless he became. There was no ease in tearing his gaze from her. Tonight she'd taken extra effort in highlighting her natural beauty. Even from a distance he was mesmerized by her white blond mane cascading down past her shoulders. She appeared slightly nervous and out of place among the raucous bunch of young people.\n\nIn one hand she grasped a large glass to which she continually raised to her lips. That very act alone stirred loose a primal desire within him.\n\nAn electronic blip from the radio broke Michael from his pleasing distraction. He moved off to respond in a quieter location. Quickly he learned of a bear making an unwelcome presence in one of the meadow camps. While not an emergency it needed to be promptly dealt with. Bears were common nuisances during high tourist season. Park guests were notoriously messy and thoughtless with food and garbage. Michael rapidly strode back to his truck. Once more his thoughts veered back to Kris. Something about her was very magnetic and he reminded himself to proceed with caution.\n\n~ ~ ~\n\n\"Another?\" Adam's voice was heavy with disgust. His mood had soured considerably as midnight approached. A side effect of the alcohol but also his expectations of the night were quite reduced. Kris was not giving him the special attention he desired. Her affections were absent. Adam had counted on the booze to loosen her up and drop inhibitions.\n\nKris focused on his pathetic gaze and shook her head. Adam got up and stormed off.\n\n\"Sooner or later he'll get it. I swear. He's delusional.\" Raina re-emerged slurring her speech and barely hanging onto a beer.\n\nKris watched Adam disappear past a group of people.\n\n\"At least he left,\" Kris said. Her head was annoyingly spinning.\n\n\"Fuck.\" Raina dropped to the ground rather hard.\n\n\"Geez. Are you okay?\"\n\n\"Not really.\" Raina plopped upright.\n\n\"I don't know how much longer I'm staying,\" Kris said.\n\n\"Why don't you explore a better option and go find the Ranger.\" Raina smiled.\n\n\"Sure.\"\n\n\"I mean it girl. You gotta go after this one otherwise someone is going to grab him right up.\"\n\nKris eyed Raina with some irritation. Why was everyone so eager to stick their nose into her private business? Was this ruggedly handsome ranger really going to get assaulted by a hoard of slutty females if Kris didn't get down and dirty with him? Sex was the only topic this crowd had advice on. Where were her so-called friends when she was going through the volatile break up with Adam last year? Everyone stood off to the side and said nothing.\n\nBeing with Michael was exciting and new. But in many ways Kris found herself having anxious moments. It had been a long time since she let down her guard and trusted a stranger. People were unpredictable, selfish and usually possessed some type of secret agenda. It was much easier to be alone. Maybe all Michael wanted was sex? Even worse maybe all Kris wanted was sex. Sex without the attachment and confusing toil of a relationship. She was lost within a deep mire of thoughts.\n\n\"Well honestly I hope you're not feeling sorry for him.\" Raina sensed she had pricked Kris the wrong way.\n\n\"Who, Adam?\"\n\n\"Because you shouldn't.\"\n\n\"I fucking don't feel sorry for him.\" Kris insisted angrily. At that moment she snapped out of her daze and realized it was not sex she wanted from Michael. It was more than that. There was something indescribable, intangible every time they were together. Unlike the early days of being with Adam.\n\n\"Okay just making sure,\" Raina said.\n\nKris breathed out heavily.\n\n\"I shouldn't of come tonight. It sends the wrong message. He thinks I still don't want to let go.\"\n\n\"That's obvious.\" Raina shook the last drop of beer into her mouth and tossed the bottle to the ground.\n\nKris needed a change of subject.\n\n\"What do you think a man like Ranger is looking for?\" Kris asked. Raina had a long and harrowing history with males. Rarely did Kris seek out her advice or expertise but tonight seemed like a good time to prod her for an opinion.\n\nRaina only grinned. \"Darling he wants you. Pretty fucking clear.\"\n\n\"How is it clear?\"\n\n\"Oh jeez,\" Raina rolled her eyes, \"who the fuck knows. Maybe he's an asshole. Maybe he's prince charming. Just go with it and find out. Why else would he be showing you so much attention?\"\n\n\"Get serious would you? I really want to know. What should I do?\"\n\n\"Look, you've got a reference point with Adam. If Michael starts acting like him, run the fuck away,\" Raina said.\n\n\"What are you spewing bitch?\" Adam frowned hard, interrupting the girls.\n\n\"I was explaining how you were born in a leper colony.\" Raina stood.\n\n\"Bite me!\" Adam grabbed his crotch in a lewd gesture.\n\n\"Here.\" He offered a fresh drink to Kris.\n\n\"No. No more.\" Kris protested by waving her hand at the drink.\n\nRaina was done with the Kris and Adam situation. She wobbled off leaving them to sort things out on their own.\n\n\"Bye. I'm outta here.\"\n\nIt was 1:30AM. Colder air had descended to the forest floor. Still the intense heat of the fire and numbing effects of the alcohol gave a false sense of comfort and warmth. After Raina's departure Kris remained quiet. Another hour passed and Kris was further disconnected from reality. Instead of a nice pleasant buzz, she was wrestling with the urge to get sick. It had been a long day and drinking on top of slight dehydration was producing a very ill predicament.\n\nAdam persistently made obnoxious comments, digging harder at Kris. Each time he opened his mouth the more inappropriate and suggestive comments came oozing out. Kris ignored him at first but Adam's constant sexual orations and dredging up past memories began wearing her down. It was clearly time to leave. Even the music had shifted from punk rock to softer melodies.\n\n\"I have to go.\" Kris attempted to stand. Adam rushed up to help her.\n\n\"No, no. Leave me alone.\" Kris slapped his hands away.\n\n\"I'll walk you back.\"\n\nKris shook her head from side to side. A peculiar sensation of being underwater struck her.\n\n\"No, I'll head back with Raina.\" Kris caught sight of Raina. Unfortunately her sloshed friend was making out with some guy against the lower section of Jake's deck.\n\n\"Okay. Maybe not.\" Kris couldn't think straight, her mind was meandering in all sorts of directions.\n\n\"Ahh, I see the prostitutes have convened for the evening,\" Adam said. Quite a few people were huddled up together and others were passed out or drifting off toward their cabins.\n\n\"Shut up.\" Kris watched him eying Raina.\n\nToddling away carefully Kris began her return home.\n\n\"I'll check on you later babe.\" Adam followed after her for a minute or two and then let her go.\n\nKris ignored the comment. She was focused with getting home successfully.\n\n~ ~ ~\n\n\"What's his problem?\" The male that Raina engaged herself with looked up and frowned as Adam brushed past.\n\nDrunk and unconcerned, Raina barely turned her attention toward Adam. A few vulgar comments escaped from his mouth, but otherwise he went on his way into the forest.\n\nRaina settled on the idea that Kris could take care of herself. Raina returned to her new preoccupation and swung a leg over his midsection. Sloppily she sunk into him and started sucking on his neck.\n\nWith heavy footsteps Adam walked past the back of Jake's cabin and entered thick shrubs and tall pines. Angrily he lit a cigarette and snapped the lighter repeatedly. Fuck all of 'em. He didn't want to think anymore. At least he showed up. Nobody could accuse him of being a social outcast. He tolerated these stupid parties just to disprove rumors that he was odd and inept. Adam yanked out a small flask from a jacket pocket. He threw back a long drink of the pungent alcohol and then cleared his throat with a hard cough.\n\nA crackling noise brought his attention back to reality. The darkness prevented him from clearly identifying the grayish shape slowly moving away from thick brush. He shoved the flask back in his pocket and took out a small black flashlight. He swept the beam quickly into the darkness. Bears seldom came to this section of the park. Either Wildlife Control would effectively relocate them or scare them off using a variety of methods.\n\nBears smelled awful and Adam sniffed the air to detect a foul scent. He found nothing. So this mysterious thing could not be a bear. A few branches gently swayed from a drifting breeze. Adam drew a sharp puff on his smoke then tossed it to the ground and pushed it to extinction with his right boot.\n\n\"Hey who's there?\" Perhaps it was some floozies from the party. There was no movement except for the breeze brushing past evergreens and pines. Adam wasn't satisfied. He was certain something was only yards away.\n\nStepping further into the plants and over smooth boulders he heard another rustling of sticks and brush.\n\n\"Goddammit, show yourself!\" Prickly hairs on the back of his neck scraped the collar of his jacket. Sweeping the beam of light back and forth over the thick forested floor, he saw nothing. With hand shaking uncontrollably he reached around and pulled a small firearm out of hidden nylon holster. Quickly he chambered a round and yanked the slide back with a sharp metal click. He gripped the weapon and light tightly with both hands and inspected the terrain.\n\n\"Who the fuck's there?\" Adam swallowed hard and plowed forward half stumbling and tripping over thick ground cover. Adam's foot caught on a felled branch and he found himself face down in the earth. Cursing rampantly he rushed to his feet. Beaming the light and weapon straight out for several moments longer, Adam took aim but could not settle on a target.\n\nNow the forest stood quiet and all movement diminished. Running after it was less than desirable. Adam shivered as he clenched his gun. Adrenaline coursed through his veins.\n\nHe re-holstered the firearm finally. Maybe it was someone playing tricks. This camp was chock full of idiots always playing jokes and pranks on each other. Had someone followed him from Jake's place? Paranoia descended over Adam. He pivoted around looking for anything or anyone. An occasional breeze rustled pine cones loose from trees but otherwise the night was void of sound.\n\nHis brain fuzzy from constant consumption of alcohol for the past 5 hours, Adam spat on the plants in front of him. He didn't feel so good anymore. If someone was after him they'd meet a terrible fate.\n\n~ ~ ~\n\nKris finally approached her steps in a disoriented state of mind. The last portion of her walk was spent mentally criticizing herself for getting drunk and leading Adam on unintentionally. One by one she crept up the old steps. It was pitch dark thanks to her forgetfulness to change the broken light bulb on her porch. Kris was breathing hard and struggling with bouts of vertigo by the time she reached the top.\n\nA dark figure loomed near the door. Kris instantly backed into the railing. Quickly a sharp pain struck her lower back.\n\nKris let out a muffled scream and called out.\n\nMichael rushed from obscurity and took her arm.\n\n\"Oh god.\" Kris's heart slammed into gear beating furiously.\n\n\"Expecting someone else?\" Michael asked.\n\nKris was embarrassed and couldn't think fluidly, \"Is it a habit of yours to lurk around in the dark?\"\n\n\"Got any water in there?\" A jagged thread of amusement was attached to Michael's voice.\n\n\"I think so. Are you thirsty?\" Kris was swaying back and forth.\n\nMichael raised an eyebrow.\n\n\"I meant for you. Perhaps one too many this evening?\"\n\n\"Perhaps. What are you doing here?\"\n\n\"Making sure you get in safely.\" His tone of voice instantly cast a spell. Kris stared up at him with wide, glassy blue eyes.\n\n\"How very nice of you,\" Kris said.\n\n\"Where's the keys?\" He gazed down upon her.\n\n\"Good question.\" She felt like fainting. Her dulled senses were just starting to pick up how good Michael smelled. His male scent descended over her like the mist off a witch's brew. The alcohol alone wasn't the only thing intoxicating her mind. Michael put a strong hand to her hip to steady her wavering stance.\n\n\"Come on, where's the keys?\" He realized she was very inebriated.\n\nKris just smiled, drugged on his words. Michael wrapped a hand around her waist coaxing her to the front door.\n\n\"It's getting cold. Kris, open up.\"\n\nKris really wasn't listening very well. Finding herself very attracted to him at the moment, she wondered how long he'd been waiting on the porch for her return. With her guard temporarily non-existent thanks to the power of alcohol, Kris wondered how patient of a man he really was.\n\n\"Hmm.\" The corners of her mouth morphed into a playful little smile, \"Why don't you get them for me?\"\n\nMichael appeared unaffected by her inebriated teasing. His mind was on fire. This innocent temptress just ignited a dangerous engine within him. Get her inside. Get her inside. She doesn't know what the hell she's doing, she's drunk, Michael told himself.\n\n\"Kristjana, either you open this door or I will. Please get out your keys.\" His dark words reverberated right through her. Finally obeying him, Kris shoved her hand into her jean pocket and wiggled out a set of keys. Wobbling backward she grabbed the door handle for balance. She fumbled for several moments in finding the right key and then shoved it into the lock and stumbled inside.\n\nCold, stagnant air greeted her. Hands out in front of her, she reached in the darkness for the bed. Grasping a small blanket, she sank down onto the bunk.\n\nMichael stayed on the porch waging a terrible battle of wills. Dare he enter her home? His battle of maintaining good manners and appropriate behavior was quickly faltering. Part of his intentions were honorable in making sure she was okay for the night. Michael wanted to confirm that heat was available in this rustic little cabin and that she drank some water to head off a massive hang over.\n\nVisions of disrobing her contorted his agenda. Running his touch over soft, saccharine skin. Taking her in his mouth. He was treading down a path that could only result in satiation of these bewitching thoughts. Slipping further into a predatory, venereal hunger, Michael reached up and toyed with the brim of his hat.\n\nHe did not want to withhold his true nature and attraction towards Kris any longer. Dozens of little things beleaguered him. How her lips turned up at him, pouting when she wasn't getting her way. How her full, expressive mouth beckoned his desire to kiss her so deeply. Her lean, tenuous legs, firm little rear end, delicately deceptive hands and shy demeanor were laced with subtleties.\n\nKris was probably unaware of her charms he suspected. Perhaps this was due to naiveté or immaturity. Michael drew in a long breath of damp night air attempting reign in his lost composure.\n\nHe entered her cabin and softly clicked the the door shut. Feeling around for a light switch, he found nothing. This was Michael's first experience inside of an employee cabin. It smelled musty and damp. Down below in the valley, a variety of guest quarters were decidedly a step up compared this rickety shack. Teepees and yurts were available as cheap White Rock Park accommodation options. For high end guests or those with fat wallets, the Sekonee Lodge offered an upscale but authentic park experience. And then there were those who fought the steep, narrow roads with bloated recreational vehicles and fifth wheel camping trailers. Designed in the mid 1800's, White Rock struggled each season with the mass amount of these blights.\n\n\"Kris?\" He wondering if she was passed out.\n\nA muffled voice emanated from the right side of the room near a window draped with ratty fabric.\n\nImpatient, Michael grabbed a small metal flashlight from his duty belt. The high powered beam filled the room with searing white light. Kris moaned in discomfort.\n\nPromptly, Michael spotted the oil lamp on a small desk and lit it quickly. His eyes caught sight of a meager wood burning stove in the far corner of the cabin.\n\nMichael crouched down and opened the door of the old stove. Next to the wall was a small pile of thin logs and dry sticks. He put his field expertise to work in building a fire, but was irritated in the revelation of how primal the conditions for Willow Camp staff was. He felt almost ashamed at his own posh quarters in comparison.\n\nTen minutes later a small blaze hissed angrily, filling the cast iron stove and providing warmth to the room. Kris was wrapped like a burrito in a thick red blanket, pressed up against the wall and window. She was feeling sick from drinking too much.\n\n\"Here.\" Michael sat on the edge of the bed holding bottle of water. Kris shakily grasped it and took several sips.\n\nThe room remained cold even with the fire going. He strode over to her desk and pulled out the flimsy wooden chair.\n\nDeliriously sleepy, Kris lay down for a moment but was overcome with dizziness and nausea. She gazed at Michael with blurry eyes. After unlacing his boots and placing them by the door, he started removing items from his duty belt. Reaching to his right side he clicked a small switch and released a thick black handgun. Grasping the device, he placed it on the desk. Swiftly he unbuckled the thick leather kit belt from his waist and dropped it to the floor.\n\n\"I don't know how you manage to carry all that.\" Kris's voice was garbled as she spoke through the thick fabric of the blanket which covered her mouth.\n\n\"It becomes a part of you,\" Michael said.\n\nKris realized that Michael was indeed taking things off. Her mind switched on and rose out of the fog bank of her drunkenness.\n\n\"What are you doing?\" She blinked several times. His outer layer uniform shirt was unbuttoned revealing a white cotton tee shirt. He stopped undressing and approached her cot. Her eyes sank uncontrollably downward and straight at his midsection. Kris was quickly overcome with a rapid surge of shyness. Even in the dim light of the cabin she could see just how aroused he was. Either she never noticed before or never looked. Perhaps all that tucked fabric shrouded details of his pronounced endowment.\n\nMichael grabbed the bottle of water and sat down offering it to Kris again.\n\n\"You're going to drink this.\" He commanded in a low, abysmal voice. Kris produced a shaky hand out of the blanket and grasped the plastic bottle. Bringing it slowly to her lips, she took a sip.\n\nMichael waited patiently. Clearly she'd had way too much alcohol at the party and either wasn't used to it or had no tolerance.\n\nKris couldn't stop the shivers now. The room was getting warmer but the thin wooden construction of the dwelling was inept at retaining much heat.\n\nHe lay down on the bed knowing his good intentions would dissipate fast but he coaxed her to move next to him for warmth. Kris resisted at first not moving from her position and remained crumpled against the wall. An onslaught of nerves gripped her. Instinctively she wanted to make a little joke attempting to diffuse the situation.\n\n\"So were you thinking about jumping into bed with me earlier today? I guess your plan worked. Waiting until I was drunk off my ass.\"\n\nMichael half smiled watching her intently.\n\n\"I had no plan that involved that.\"\n\n\"Yeah right.\"\n\n\"I rather wish you were sober right now so I could make love to you.\" He spoke in a thick voice. Kris wasn't listening so well. She took a longer gulp of the water and then stubbornly tried to place it on the window sill.\n\n\"You're assuming too much.\" Kris re-tightened the blanket around herself and finally lay down.\n\nFishing for her jittery hand, Michael gently tugged for Kris to lay next to him.\n\n\"Why don't you tell me what I'm assuming?\" Michael slowly extricated part of her from the blanket. Kris was resistant and kept a firm hold on the edge of the covering.\n\n\"You're like all men. You assume a girl will just put out. And then after she does, you leave. Or if she doesn't want to put out, you turn to someone who will.\"\n\nA bit taken aback by the words that streamed from her mouth so honestly, Michael was positive in his former assessment that she had been burned. Perhaps more than once.\n\n\"And I'm one of those men?\" Michael asked, taking a finger and moving her hair from her face.\n\n\"Don't get me wrong. I'm not trying to be mean.\" Kris closed her eyes. \"You can't help it. It's the way things are these days.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry.\"\n\n\"Hmm.\" Kris sighed, her thoughts sluggish and defensive. \"Sorry for what?\"\n\nMichael detected that she was testing him. A well honed subconscious putting up a wall of defense. It wasn't hard to see she was subtly pushing at him. But he wasn't about to back away.\n\n\"Sorry you've been hurt.\"\n\n\"What makes you think that?\" Kris was softly defiant.\n\n\"A hunch.\"\n\n\"A hunch? What are you a psychic?\"\n\n\"I'm not psychic or a fortune teller. But I recognize pain when I see it.\"\n\nKris opened her eyes, surprised to hear him use the word pain. Michael unwound the red blanket from her and shook it, letting it float down over both of them. Kris carefully stretched out beside him. Sliding his hand over her hip to her lower back, Michael moved the fabric of her blouse out of the way. Gently he ran his touch over her silken skin.\n\nKris fought against irrational thoughts. She was comparing Michael's presence in her bed to unwelcome seductions from a demonic entity. Michael was not Adam. This was a different man. Old memories were out to sabotage what could be a deepening closeness with this person. It was possible Michael's intentions were purely physical. He was here conveniently, at a time when she was sloshed and open to suggestion. Or there was the vague and foreign possibility that he was here because of genuine concern.\n\n\"Relax.\" Micheal's breath cascaded over her.\n\n\"I can't.\"\n\n\"Why?\" His hand met hers under the warmth of the blanket.\n\n\"I don't know,\" Kris said.\n\n\"I think you do.\"\n\nKris gazed over at him and then stared up at the clapboard roof. The room would not stop spinning.\n\n\"What's going on in that mind of yours?\" Michael leaned close to whisper into her ear. He moved his leg between hers. His slow, deliberate movement was calming in a mysterious sort of way but also brought on a wave of provocation. Kris let her breath escape past clenched teeth. As his body melded closer with hers, heat began to rise within her.\n\n\"Oh god, I can't.\" Kris groaned at the thought of where it was all headed.\n\n\"Tell me to leave.\" Michael warned. If she truly wanted him to stop, he needed to hear it right then and there.\n\n\"Yeah right.\" Kris covered her eyes with her hand.\n\nMichael cupped her chin with a steady hand. Kris could barely see in the dark shadows of the room, for which she was thankful.\n\n\"If you really want me to go, say the word,\" he said in a low voice.\n\n\"No. Stay, I guess.\"\n\n\"Don't guess. Be sure. Be absolutely sure Kris,\" Michael breathed out heavily, perplexed why so much anxiety was coming forth.\n\n\"Old demons in my head.\" Kris forced an apologetic smile.\n\nMichael lay still trying his best to keep the raging fire inside his body to a low burn.\n\n\"I'm not here to play games or hurt you.\" Unable to resist, he kissed her neck gently, deeply. Her inability to relax indicated it was too soon. Too much.\n\n\"Just wondering where it's all going.\" Kris started to melt. He smelled like a mixture of the forest, woodsy smoke and sweet perspiration. It was heaven.\n\nA thought crossed his mind. \"You aren't a virgin, are you?\" He stared intently at her, propping himself up.\n\n\"Whoa. Where did that come from?\" Kris asked.\n\n\"Well?\"\n\n\"Heavens no.\"\n\n\"All right. Just making sure.\" Michael lay back down.\n\n\"And what if I was? That's a bad thing?\"\n\n\"No. It -\" Michael tried to find the right words, \"would just change things.\"\n\n\"Change how?\"\n\nWow she was persistent. Or skilled at delaying and torturing him. Enough was enough.\n\n\"I wouldn't tell you that I want to fuck you,\" Michael said.\n\nKris pressed the palm of her hand against her forehead. But Michael unglued it quickly, knowing she attempted to hide a bashful expression.\n\n\"I want to turn you over and thrust my huge cock into your sweet, wet pussy until you come. And then I would make slow, torturous love to you until you saw stars dance your very eyes and the heavens came crashing down around you.\" Michael's eyes bore into hers. \"If you were a virgin, however, I wouldn't tell you those things.\"\n\n\"That's what you've been thinking about?\" Kris was overcome with hot chills.\n\nHe was well aware it was one of those moments where his actions and words were questioned and untrusted. She was laced with hidden fears and insecurities. He doubted he could reverse this at the present moment. One thing was etched into the forefront of his curiosity.\n\n\"Yes, that's what I've been thinking about. And a lot more.\" He kissed her briefly and then said, \"So have you.\"\n\n\"Excuse me?\"\n\n\"Don't try and tell me different.\"\n\nInstinctively Kris was about to tell him his ego was quite inflated. How dare he assume she was having steamy thoughts about him?\n\n\"And how does that make me look? I'm secretly fantasizing about you?\"\n\n\"It makes you very appetizing.\" Sinking lower into her, Michael took sweet flesh into his mouth, deeply kissing her neck. His words thick with lust, Michael spoke into her ear as if he were a caged animal.\n\n\"Every time I see you, I want you. Every time you pass by, I can't forget you. Every time you tease me, you arouse me.\" Grasping her wrist he lead her hand down to his heated crotch. Kris let out a small, stifled sound almost in shock. His rugged hand slid on top of hers guiding her to apply pressure to his throbbing cock. Had it not been for layers of fabric preventing bare skin contact, Michael would of flipped her over and entered her right then and there. Maintaining composure and forgoing the impulse to salaciously mate his thickness into her was a demanding matter for Michael. He wasn't a savage idiot. Kris wasn't ready to engage in fornication. Well, too much of it anyway. And she was sobering up, but not enough.\n\nKris writhed beneath his achingly slow movements.\n\nThe small stove now provided the cabin with great warmth and Michael tore his attention from Kris abruptly. Kris thought for a fleeting moment he was changing his mind. But he stood up only to free himself of his shirt and pants.\n\nReally seeing him for the first time, bits of reservation and modesty dissipated from Kris. Never a complete secret as to how built his upper body was, Kris was still nearly open mouthed at the further reveal of his ruggedly constructed physique. The only remaining barrier to full disclosure was his underwear. She need not take any guesses. Michael gifted with some serious girth, or rather, a formidable faculty that was profoundly aroused at the moment. Inhibitions danced in and out of lustful thought. She could not tear her eyes off of him. Frozen, Kris rejoined his intense visual assault. Without breaking the gaze, she grabbed her own shirt and yanked it off. Michael pulled her down to the bed with him.\n\nKris responded by advancing her hips into his. Magnetized by his actions and increasing torridness, Kris wanted more. Her tight jean fabric against her female pleasures only caused increased throbbing beneath. She struggled to unbutton the front of the cumbersome pants.\n\nMichael unfastened her jeans and removed them in quick fashion. Kris ran her hand over his chest, touching what was once unavailable. Digressing past his steel abdominal muscles her little exploration was canceled. Michael did not let her continue. He sank his fiery, ravenous body on top of hers pausing only to rip off her bra and expose her supple breasts.\n\n\"I'll buy you a new one.\" He throatily promised. Cupping her breast in one hand he tasted the rigid tip of her nipple with the end of his tongue. Kris eyed his action with a growing appetite. Coiling her legs around him, demanded he sink his heated core into her. Kris heard a deep groan.\n\n\"I'm not going to have sex with you tonight.\" He growled unexpectedly. Sex not in the traditional sense, Michael thought. The revelation cast a cold, confused stare upon Kris's flushed face.\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Not tonight.\"\n\n\"After all that you said before?\"\n\nHe reached down between their two sweltering bodies until finding a slim resemblance of lace and silk fabric shrouding her private volume. He tore away the preventative undergarment, ripping the side forcibly. His fingers slowly encircled her swollen flesh. Arching her back in response, a raspy sound escaped from Kris.\n\n\"What the fuck are you doing then?\"\n\nHe didn't answer just yet. Instead he explored deeper with his fingers. Michael mated his touch back and forth inside her saturated pathway. Grazing his thumb over her swollen cloak of flesh only added a heightened dimension Kris could barely withstand.\n\nJust as her apex approached, Michael pressed his throbbing cock firmly against the exterior of her corridor, denying himself entrance, but enticing the intensity for her. Kris groaned uncontrollably her neck and back muscles arched. Mouthing his name she let go into a writhing bliss of convulsing pleasure. Breath escaped her. She grabbed a handful of blanket off to one side in an effort to regain control over the intense ecstasy. Aftershocks parsed through her.\n\nMichael took great satisfaction observing her until all threads of restraint were gone.\n\n\"Touch me.\" He took her shaking hand and wrapped it around his engorged cock. His hand firmly entwined with hers, he dragged their combined touch along his girth.\n\n\"Kris, I want to make love to you desperately. More than you can understand.\" He glanced down between their bodies, \"Another time. When you aren't -\" His voice shook with unbearable resonance.\n\n\"Drunk.\" Kris finished his thought. Although it wasn't something she wanted to hear, she knew he was making the right decision.\n\nHe wrapped his hand around her behind and pulled her body tight against his. Deep, guttural sounds increased from the back of his throat. Now it was Kris's turn to take the lead. She pushed him hard to stray from his position above. They managed with little pause to lay face to face. Kris directed her attention to his swollen shaft and to skimming her touch back and forth over the foremost tip of his cock. She varied the intensity and pressure contracting and releasing her hand in an almost cruel-like seductive conjuring.\n\nMichael let out a deep spasmodic groan and then finally let go in a forceful involuntary climatic spasm. Thick, creamy liquid jutted from his pulsating cock. Kris felt his hot abstraction on her hand and belly. The intensity of his his expulsion was surprising. Her heart beat fast with wild irregularity.\n\nMichael breathed out harshly but hardly said a word. Kris was accustomed to the feeling of relief after a sexual encounter, but relief of a different sort. Relief that it was over and done and the participating party, Adam, would fall asleep or go away. With Michael everything was different.\n\nAlmost too tired to think logically Kris curled up on the bed. Michael took her hand in unspoken reassurance.\n\nLost in restless waves of a climactic consummation, Kris closed her eyes savoring his thermally charged body. The savage waves of involuntary spasms began to release their grip on him. Kris cautiously touched his chest to make sure this was all real. That he was still there.\n\nMichael pulled her close, breathing raggedly. Kris drew in the sweet musky smell drifting about him. Her eyes burned with fatigue.\n\n\"Go to sleep.\" He touched the back her head gently. His words washed over her with great comfort. Michael's hand rested motionless on her bare hip and Kris complied with his order and fell into a deep sleep.\nChapter Ten\n\nBAM! BAM! BAM!\n\nViolent knocking shook the cabin door. Kris groggily woke. A red blanket covered her unclothed body. Trying to awake from heavy sleep was not easy. A moment passed and stillness filled the air.\n\nThe pounding started again. Her heart jumped into gear with a clunk so vicious Kris was sure it made a sound.\n\nVisions of the previous night began to trickle into reality. Taking in a sharp breath she surveyed the room. He was gone. Kris jerked back the blanket, glaring at the empty rumpled space. Infused with vacillating images of their time together, Kris became wide eyed and alert.\n\nSlam! Slam! BAM!\n\nAgain the door was rattled by an impatiently rude visitor. She wanted yell nasty warnings but thought the better of it. Quickly pulling on some clothes she gazed around the cabin. No evidence of Michael.\n\nAssuming the worst she swung her feet to the floor and groped under the bed. She yanked the trusty old baseball bat out from underneath the bed.\n\n\"Kris, fucking open the door! I'm not going away until you do.\" Adam's irate voice emanated through the rickety boards.\n\nHead throbbing and practically choking from a caustically dry throat, Kris released the lock. Adam wasted no time bursting into the cabin. He glanced around the room then faced her. His eyes appeared sunken in and bloodshot. The stench of booze and body odor was unmistakable.\n\n\"You look like hell.\" Kris could not hide her raspy voice. She dropped the baseball bat on the bed.\n\n\"What do you think you're doing?\" Adam fought to keep his voice under control. He was losing the battle against the envy and rage. He couldn't come to terms that he was losing Kris to a park ranger. Of all people, it had to be a park fucking ranger.\n\nKris took a long drink of water from a plastic bottle that had been placed on the floor by her bedside. Under the bottle was a small folded piece of paper. Kris gazed at the unknown artifact. Her mind wandered from Adam's gruff announcement and she stalled in her response. It was the morning routine for him to be bothering her at an early hour.\n\n\"What do you mean? I was sleeping. You woke me, idiot.\"\n\n\"Kris, you're making a huge mistake.\"\n\n\"Adam, get a life. There's plenty of young meat around this park, why don't you go find someone who'll willingly spread their legs for you?\" Kris's reached down pretending to scratch her foot. She grabbed the note and turned from Adam's icy stare. Inside was Michael's handwriting.\n\nWait by the roundabout after work.\n\n-Michael\n\nHer heart did a cliff dive. Kris folded the paper back into a little square and clenched it tight safely hidden from the scourge that was stinking up her cabin.\n\n\"Who was here last night?\" Adam strode around her small space looking for clues.\n\n\"None of you fucking business. Nobody was here.\" Kris wasn't prepared to answer questions about Michael just yet.\n\n\"You forget.\"\n\n\"I haven't forgotten anything.\" Kris was hardly alert enough to catch onto his phrases laced heavily with meaning she was just supposed to grasp out of thin air.\n\n\"I know what goes on with you.\"\n\n\"Oh?\" Kris had little energy for this inquisition. \"Adam, get the hell out. Get out or -\" She glanced around for something to threaten him with.\n\n\"Or what? You'll do what?\" Adam was furious but holding back. \"Never mind. Thanks a lot Kris.\"\n\n\"You're welcome.\" Kris moved toward the door, ready to slam it behind him but he stalled in the doorway.\n\n\"See you at work,\" Adam said.\n\nKnowing better than to take the bait, she was caught off guard with his statement.\n\n\"You're on the schedule today?\"\n\n\"That's right. Same as you. What a coincidence.\" He flashed a smirk and then was gone. Kris closed the door, and flipped the lock.\n\nAdam frowned harshly, heavily stepping down the stairs and strolling off down the dirt path. He was a bit raw from a nasty hang over and by the strange occurrence in the forest after leaving the party. Learning that Kris had a male visitor stay with her furthered his downward spiral in mood.\n\nKris sat on the bed and opened her hand. She read Micheal's short note again. Irregular heart palpitations instantly rattled her. Adam's thorny visit did not cast a shadow over her sultry memories of being with Michael last night. As far as she was concerned Adam didn't exist. He would soon realize this. He had to.\n\n~ ~ ~\n\n\"Kris, the new menus came in. Take the older ones and throw them out in the dumpster. I don't want them sitting in the kitchen trash.\" Dale stood in the doorway of the main entrance squinting amidst bright morning sunlight.\n\n\"I surely will.\" Kris paused from sweeping.\n\n\"I told Raina to take care of it two days ago.\" Dale frowned eying little piles of pine needles and debris cluttering the walkway.\n\n\"Sorry. I'll do the menus after I finish this.\" Kris pushed a big pile of litter towards an orange bucket. Raina's attention to detail and to her job were flaky. Dale remained in the doorway slowly taking gulps from a steaming styrofoam cup. He continued to hang out and watched Kris work at tidying up the front entry. She continued on even though his loitering meant other things were bothering him.\n\nKris scooped up the small piles into the bucket and stood to wipe the side of her brow with the back of her hand. It was only 9AM but scorching rays of sunlight bouncing off the pavement created a blinding glare and uncomfortable warmth.\n\n\"Something else, you needed?\" Kris asked, stretching her back.\n\nJutting the contents of the cup into the bushes, he swore under his breath and approached Kris.\n\n\"I don't involve myself with the personal matters of my staff.\"\n\nOh hell, here it comes. \"I know.\" Kris leaned on the broom.\n\nDale was surrounded by gossip, drama and the never ending personal issues of his workers on a daily basis. Rarely did he get in the middle. He purposefully lived on the other side of the park in a small trailer. Removed from the hustle and bustle of the busy summer season. Dale and Kris shared an unspoken bond. Her role was more of a misguided niece and he was the grumpy but protective uncle.\n\n\"You're not seeing Adam anymore?\"\n\n\"God, Dale -\" Instantly cross, Kris was nauseated at the mention of Adam's name.\n\n\"Hey, hear me out now.\" Dale obviously had something to get off his chest.\n\n\"Sorry. I'm just tired of the talk. You know? It never goes away.\"\n\n\"I'm confused Kris.\"\n\n\"Nobody said a darn thing when we were together. Nobody warned me he was messed up. And when we broke it off, or I should say, I broke up with him, everyone scattered to the wind. These people aren't my friends if they run away when I need them.\"\n\nDale seemed unprepared to hear Kris's rant.\n\n\"Well I just wanted to make sure you're okay now.\"\n\nKris put a hand on her hip, brushing her hair back.\n\n\"Okay. I mean, I'm okay.\"\n\n\"You're seeing someone new?\"\n\nKris took a deep breath.\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"The new hired gun?\"\n\n\"Yes. Got a problem with that?\" Kris pretended to glare at him.\n\n\"He's got a history. Or so I'm told.\" Dale chose his words carefully. Kris studied his torqued expression, the little gray whiskers on his chin glistened in the sun. Instinctively Kris felt the urge to defend her private life but she felt abnormally slow minded today.\n\n\"I have a history too,\" Kris said.\n\n\"Don't we all.\" Dale seemed satisfied with the chat. He motioned to another area of clutter for her to clean. Kris tried to silently empathize with Boss. He was only looking out for her. She didn't know what history or rumors he was talking about, and she didn't want spend one more second thinking about such garbage.\n\n\"Any news on the attacks?\" Kris changed the subject.\n\n\"No. But I'm the last to know anything.\"\n\n\"Right. Me too.\"\n\n\"They're making a bigger fuss about this than it needs to be.\"\n\n\"You be careful, though.\" Kris grinned at him. Dale snorted. Lifting the side of his shirt he revealed a small black firearm tucked neatly in a worn leather holster fastened to the side of his waist. Patting it with three fingers, he flashed a brief smile.\n\n\"Ah. I see. \" Kris didn't approve. Another gun. Were things that desperate? People going around ready for vigilante justice?\n\nWitnessing Kris's discomfort, Dale hunted for something polite to say but Kris staved off his attempt.\n\n\"Don't worry about it.\" She lugged the heavy bucket up the walkway. \"I'm gonna get to those menus.\"\n\n~ ~ ~\n\nAttending a round table cluttered with plates, uneaten food, and spilled beverages, Kris paused to wipe the side of her face with the back of her hand. She grasped a pile of dirty napkins and stuffed them into her apron.\n\nRaina's voice bellowed from the bustling entry of the dining hall. Intent on gaining Kris's attention, she yelled out. Kris abruptly ran over to the crowded waiting area. Children were screaming and misbehaving. A line of guests was beginning to spill through the outer door.\n\n\"Oh, whoops!\" A lady fashioned with gold jewelry, and bright red fingernails bumped into Kris spilling half a glass of wine.\n\n\"No problem.\" Kris forced a fake smiled. Turning back to Raina, she rolled her eyes in disgust. Acknowledging the situation Raina motioned to slit her own throat with her finger. She quipped at another guest that their wait would be another 30 minutes.\n\n\"So what's up?\" Kris approached\n\n\"Adam's looking for you. He's out back.\"\n\nKris stared blankly at Raina in disbelief.\n\n\"Don't look at me that way. He's been bothering everyone this morning looking for you,\" Raina said.\n\n\"Why doesn't he come out here? He knows I'm on the dining floor?\" Kris pushed back long unruly strands of hair.\n\n\"He's acting like he's going to die if he doesn't see you.\" Raina turned her attention back to the guests.\n\n\"Shit.\" Kris walked back to the table she had been working on and finished cleaning. Adam would have to wait. It was already 4:45 PM, fifteen minutes past the end of her shift. Kris pulled the elastic band from her ponytail. Scooping all her loose iridescent hair back into bun, she ignored the issue of Adam and started working on another dirty table.\n\nThirty minutes after scrubbing so hard her fingers ached, Kris was headed to the kitchen with a large tray. It was over loaded with dishes and silverware. Kris kicked open the swinging kitchen doors. Dumping the assortment onto the stainless counter, she grabbed a white terry cloth rag.\n\nSuspiciously eying Adam way off to her left, Kris felt pins stab her lower back.\n\n\"Where's Joseph?\" Kris hoped to stave off whatever twisted attention Adam was about to unleash. Large amounts of water was dripping onto the floor. She bent down trying to mop some of it.\n\n\"The fuck if I know!\" Adam said.\n\nKris paused, peering at him.\n\n\"Well then where's Dale?\"\n\n\"In back.\" Adam yelled.\n\n\"What did you say?\"\n\nAdam smirked, yanking on the large faucet handle. Wiping his hands on his stained apron, he approached Kris.\n\n\"I said, he's in back.\" Voice lower, Adam leaned against the counter and crossed his arms.\n\n\"Why are you bothering everyone today?\" Kris decided to get it over with. She wrung out the rag and tossed it on the steel shelf above.\n\n\"I don't know what you mean,\" Adam said.\n\n\"Raina is pretty annoyed with you. If you need me for something why don't you march your ass out onto the floor? Or is that too much work?\"\n\n\"Funny babe. And I don't care about your whore-friend.\"\n\nKris rubbed her brow. \"Let's pretend we aren't going to fight. What did you want?\"\n\n\"To have a nice relaxing dinner with you tonight,\" Adam said.\n\n\"Excuse me? Dinner?\" Kris shot him a look of burly annoyance and left without answering.\n\nAdam knew this game. He could wear her down eventually. She would get so crabby and emotional. Lashing out at the Ranger was the likely outcome if Adam could get her riled up enough. If he could just hold out a little while longer.\n\n~ ~ ~\n\nFinally around five o'clock the crew from the next shift arrived and the washer Joseph made an entrance, ranting about confusion with his schedule. Raina fled the moment the other hostess took over while Adam disappeared out the back of the kitchen before the boss could try and commit him to stay longer.\n\nKris gazed at her tired face in the mirror of the small employee bathroom. Joints aching and skin sticky from sweating all day, she rummaged through her backpack pulling out a hair brush and makeup. After splashing ice cold water on her face multiple times, Kris wriggled out of her soiled work attire and pulled on a long, light blue cotton dress. The garment much too long according to Raina's fashion assessment several days ago. Thin straps ran over her shoulders, exposing her upper back. Kris stood motionless with nerves beginning to surface.\n\nWas it this necessary to soften up her appearance just to further the unwavering attention from a man? Perhaps she could just suck it up and deal with it. Kris was used to practical attire living and working in White Rock. She hardly wore anything but running tights, long sweatshirts, fleece and the occasional ripped and faded jeans.\n\nKris plopped down on a small red stool with a ripped top and missing foam. She clasped her shaking hands together. Too bad Adam left in such a hurry. A quick drink of whiskey from his flask would of helped with her anxiety. Swearing softly under her breath, Kris pulled on some flimsy shoes and stood once more.\n\nShoving all her items back into her pack, she left the bathroom and exited the hall through the service entry in the kitchen. Avoiding attention from other co-workers was paramount. The probability of snide comments, whistling and wolf calls was high. Surely the secret was out in the open about her and Michael. Sudden images of the previous night flooded her.\n\nOnce outside she caught herself before tripping over some sticks. Kris warned herself to get it together. Unsure if this meeting was a date or commonly referred to as a hook up, Kris couldn't shake the anxiety welling up inside. Michael's note didn't mention dinner, or coming to his place, or going for a hike. It was short and open to interpretation; Wait by the roundabout after work. He could still be on shift and just wanting to say hello. Kris took a deep breath. If at the very least Michael saw her in some appealing attire, it would have a lasting effect in his mind. She was falling for him. The insecurities of it were exhausting.\n\nRelationships in the park started fast and ended fast. It was a microcosm of many things and White Rock employees didn't have the luxury of time when it came to getting to know someone. By the end of the season, the majority of workers were out of a job and left the park until the next year. A few would stay to work the long and cold winter season. There were fewer positions during those months. Kris didn't know if Michael was year-round, but she was not. Before meeting him she was pretty determined to end her long term job with the park and not return next season. Five long years seemed like an eternity. She couldn't do this forever. At some point having a regular place to live with running water and an attached bathroom and getting far away from Adam, overtook the desire to stay at White Rock.\n\nNow things were slightly different. A new man had entered her life. Whether it a brief affair or lasting relationship, what would transpire could affect her intention to leave.\n\nKris veered from the main path, traipsing over pine needles and thick ferns toward the roundabout. Her normally pale cheeks were flushed bright red. The stupidity and impracticality of wearing flimsy, inept shoes seemed vastly ridiculous. Kris swore softly under her breath. This wasn't a shopping mall or day at the beach, this was the outdoors. Wilderness. A national park. The gravel roundabout was a mile north of the dining hall, mainly uphill. Angling further away from the trail to avoid bumping into anyone familiar, Kris tightened the shoulder straps to her backpack and forced her feet to move faster over the uneven ground.\n\nFinally reaching the dense cover of the thick evergreen trees, Kris paused. Blinking and listening to the distance echoes of cars and people, she reached up, threaded a finger into elastic band holding her hair and gently tussled it free. Waves of fair blond hair tumbled down around her shoulders. Ahead she eyed the old wooden posts of the trail leading to staff showers. The circular roundabout was near.\n\nKris's pace slowed. She could see Michael's white truck through the trees before her. Heart picking up speed, Kris felt a long nylon strap of her shoulder harness tickling the side of her upper leg. She paused. A cool breeze laced with campfire smoke drifted past.\n\nAn unyielding thread of reservation cropped up once more. Thoughts of the their previous encounter flashed to the forefront of her mind yet again. If this were to be another encounter between them, if bodily flesh was exposed, savored, ravished, Kris was going to make damn sure she wouldn't be intoxicated. She was still fighting the ill effects of so much reckless alcohol consumption of last night. This Ranger need not assume her to be a drunkard or whimsical lush.\n\nWhatever, Kris. Stop thinking! She yanked on her pack and started walking. The dirt road crunching under her feet, she strode up to the side of his truck. Kris felt one of her knees start to jitter uncontrollably. Torquing a thin strand of hair, she peered through the open window.\n\nHe was speaking in deep commanding tones to someone on the other end of a radio. A scraggly female voice kept interrupting and reporting back. Whatever was going on, it didn't sound good. Kris fingered the strap of her backpack waiting for him to notice her.\n\n\"I understand.\" Michael spoke into a radio. He grasped a bunch of papers and tossed them onto the dashboard. He motioned for her to enter the truck. Kris quietly opened the door and pulled herself up onto the seat.\n\n\"Beth, I already stated my position on this. You wanted my input but aren't paying attention at all.\"\n\n\"And I appreciate your concern. I think at this point, it's overkill and unnecessary to bring more security into White Rock.\"\n\n\"Then what did you hire me for?\"\n\n\"Look, I can see this is getting a bit personal, and I'd appreciate if you just kept it on a professional level.\"\n\n\"I'm just clarifying I'm to do next to nothing and continue on with parking control and writing tickets for wildlife harassment.\"\n\n\"You have the report from the most recent meeting. Carry out the duties outlined within in and report any suspicious activity to the head office.\" Beth's voice crackled through the radio.\n\n\"Fine.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, what was that?\"\n\n\"Over and out.\" He then slammed the radio down hard into a holder on the dashboard. His mood was plainly obvious. Kris gritted her teeth smiling in unspoken support.\n\nMichael reached over, smoothing his strong hand over the top of her leg. Goosebumps immediately traveled up her back.\n\n\"It's nice to see you.\"\n\n\"That sounded painful.\" Kris nodded at the radio.\n\n\"It usually is.\"\n\n\"Sounds like a lot going on.\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\nKris grinned again. Apparently he was not about to discuss the details of the stiff interaction with Beth.\n\nThe intense heat radiating from him consumed her, hindering her mind. Michael adeptly kissed her neck, soft at first but quickly his desire escalated. Kris let go a little. His mouth drifted over her skin with exotic motion. She put a hand up to the side of his face, running a finger along side his hungry mouth. Painstakingly pulling back, Michel touched the thin fabric of her dress draped over her legs.\n\n\"You look nice.\" His deep raspy words poured over.\n\n\"Thanks.\"\n\n\"Not standard issue dining hall uniform I take it?\"\n\n\"Oh this? No. I brought a change of clothes today.\"\n\nSwiftly he turned the ignition and the truck roared to life. A warm breeze tousled her hair. Kris let out a long shaky breath as if she'd been holding it in for an eternity. With one hand on the steering wheel Michael brought the truck around the sharp circular drive and accelerated out of the staff camp.\n\nBits and pieces of conversations burst out of the radio intermittently. Kris was intrigued but thankful for some disruption. She let her head rest against the seat-back and soon fought off the heavy urge to close her eyes. In the absence of conversation between she and Michael, fatigue and weariness took over.\nChapter Eleven\n\n\"Fuck.\" Adam spat violently at the ground.\n\n\"Something wrong, Adam?\" A familiar voice spoke.\n\nAdam jerked and spun around. Randy Duncan approached holding a portable music player in one hand and a soda in the other. Adam, being a strange character the majority of the time, provided a certain level of amusement to Randy. Here was Kris's weird ex-boyfriend caught again in some strange behavior. Randy yanked a small speaker bud out of his ear.\n\n\"No,\" Adam shot Randy a look of disgust, \"nothing is wrong.\"\n\nRandy narrowed his eyes while his peaceful demeanor remained steadfast.\n\n\"What the fuck are you doing?\" Adam asked.\n\nRandy took a long drink of his soda.\n\n\"Going home. Maybe you should too.\" He put the little speaker back in his ear and continued his slow progression towards camp.\n\nAdam gruffly muttered an unintelligible comment and strode off in a different direction.\n\nThe moment before reaching Adam and the section of trail lined heavily with pine saplings and thick brush, Randy had caught a faint sight of Kris's blond head. Obviously she was meeting up with that Ranger. The one person that prickled Adam's jealousy. Randy was glad she was at least testing out the waters with someone else. Unfortunately Adam's foul mood and stalking behavior signaled ongoing problems for her. Randy made a mental note to bring forth this issue with Raina. Perhaps they both needed to have an intervention with Adam.\n\n~ ~ ~\n\nMichael braked quickly and turned into the Black Creek trail head parking lot. The area was jammed full of cars and tourists.\n\n\"Sorry. I need to take care of this.\" Michael quickly pulled up alongside a row of cars which were illegally jammed too close together. Grabbing his hat, he jumped out of the truck cab and slammed the door.\n\n\"No problem.\" Kris was a bit horrified at such a clogged scene. Familiar with the ongoing traffic control duties of park rangers, she found herself confirming why she usually stayed clear of these busier tourist regions.\n\nThe bustling scene instantly took on an attentive upswing as Michael's commanding presence became noticed. Kris couldn't hear the exchange of words over the sound of the idling diesel truck engine, but clearly Michael demanded respect from the obvious rule breakers. A balding, overweight gentleman was gesturing wildly with his arms in the direction of the packed parking lot. Kris could only assume his rant centered on the unavailability of spaces. Michael was having none of it, instructing the man to move his illegally parked car. The bald man only grew more and more red in the face about to explode. Kris could imagine that even the most arrogant of park visitors would be no match in the wake of Michael's intimidating demeanor. Having never seen him lose his temper or grow demonstratively angry, Kris assumed his persuasion lay in his calm but assertive nature. It didn't escape her either that he had a distinct habit of resting his right hand on the butt of his firearm fastened securely at his side.\n\nFinally, Michael climbed back into the idling truck. Throwing the gear shift into drive, he headed out of the busy lot slowly surveying for other infractions.\n\nSatisfied the scene was dealt with appropriately, he braked hard and caused Kris to grasp the door handle.\n\n\"451. Northeast. Vehicles blocking a restricted area.\" Michael spoke into the radio.\n\n\"Copy, Michael. 10-4.\" Damon Jerr's response crackled over the airway.\n\n\"I issued a warning. Damon you might want to see if they move in about 15 minutes. Unlikely to comply.\"\n\n\"Sending someone over there now.\" Damon confirmed, after a small chuckle.\n\n\"That earlier 10-57 get cleaned up?\" Michael accelerated the vehicle.\n\n\"505 affirmative, Michael. PRD clear.\"\n\nPause.\n\n\"Copy that. 10-10 PRD.\" Michael placed the radio back on the dashboard holster.\n\n\"What happened?\" Kris was highly curious. She understood some of the lingo commonly heard over the park radios. Michael had just told Damon he was now off duty for awhile. PRD stood for Park Radio Dispatch and Damon was usually on the other end. A '505' was something related to bad or reckless driving. Kris did not know the 10-57 was.\n\n\"Someone put a car in the river.\"\n\n\"Blacks?\" Kris frowned. The infamous Black Creek was anything but a creek. Running seasonally high with snow melt, it twisted its way through the middle of the park with deep eddies and strong undercurrents. Many tourists entering White Rock were met with its beckoning rapids cascading over sparkling white granite. The edges of the river were very soft and degraded from auto and foot traffic. The main bridge being so narrow over Black Creek, claimed several cars each season.\n\n\"Some jerk flew over the bridge and lost control. Lucky he didn't lose his life,\" Michael said.\n\n\"Great. I suppose nobody can read.\" Kris referred to the multitude of big bright yellow signs warning of narrow road travel.\n\n\"We had to bring in a big tow from Matherville,\" Michael said, veering down a dirt road. Posted signs warned Employees only. No public access. The truck growled forcefully along. The sides brushed against thick white fir branches from outstretched trees.\n\n\"Can I ask where we're going?\" Kris kept an eye out the window, but glanced at his stoic facial expression.\n\n\"You seemed a bit sleepy before,\" he said.\n\n\"Yeah?\" Kris brushed her hair back. Apparently nothing escaped notice with him.\n\nPassing over a small wood bridge they came upon the historical Sekonee Lodge. Michael parked around back and killed the engine. His mood lightened as he turned to face her.\n\n\"Hungry?\" he asked, grabbing a duffel bag from the rear seats. Kris nodded. Her painfully empty stomach stirred at the very mention of food. She couldn't deny the fact, she was a bit impressed. The Sekonee was reservation only for dinner. It was the only exclusive building in the park. World famous for its menu and lodging. Kris happily slid out of the truck and took Michael's outstretched hand wondering what else he had in mind that evening.\n\n~ ~ ~\n\nThe notorious Terri White stubbornly paused. Sparkling pink fingertips tapped impatiently on a weathered sign post.\n\n\"See this? We need to turn around now. I'm not walking up that!\"\n\n\"I have flashlights,\" said a male voice, \"we'll be fine.\"\n\n\"Yeah but I really don't want to be hiking in the freaking dark.\" Terri thrust her hands up. She was regretting her decision to go along with this idiot. Earlier he was game to hook up and kick back with a few drinks. Terri ended up on this blasted hike instead.\n\nHer partner stopped, body slumped to one side in the middle of the trail ahead of her.\n\n\"Hey!\" Terri called, \"Hey!\"\n\nAfter waiting several minutes for a response she called out once more.\n\n\"This is so lame. I'm going back. You go on ahead. I'm outta here.\"\n\nShe stumbled and flicked her fire engine red hair back over her shoulder.\n\n\"Besides, Jake is making Margaritas. I don't know about you but I'm down with that.\" Fucking weirdo, Terri thought, straining to see in the dim light.\n\nShe began talking to herself uttering complaints as mosquitoes annoyingly buzzed her ears and sharp pine branches poked at her bare shoulders.\n\n\"This is not what I expected.\" Terri said, gingerly stepping over rocks and branches.\n\n\"Really?\" A low response came from behind her.\n\n\"What the hell?\" she frowned, \"You're so creepy. Hasn't anyone told you that? I'm going back. I thought we were going to go fuck around. Not hike. I'm not walking my butt up that hill.\" Terri brushed some dirt off her cropped pants. Carefully she navigated several steps backward in the direction from which they had just come.\n\n\"Wanna give me a blow job then?\" he said.\n\nTerri glanced back, flashing him an evil smirk.\n\n\"You'd like that now, wouldn't you? I ain't drunk enough for that shit.\" She snorted and continued on.\n\nHe was not amused. Excitement warped into uncontrollable rage. Stupid whore, he thought. Should of known better that she wouldn't put out. He threw his day pack to the ground and launched at her from behind.\n\nSharp, forceful pain struck Terri's backside. She met the dirt in a ferocious thud, her chin absorbing the blow and gritty bits filling her mouth. In shock over what was taking place, she screamed out. A hiking boot landed firmly into her rib cage rendering her breathless. Another assault to the side of her face denied her ability to see. Spitting blood, she gasped for air and tried scooting backward away from the threat. Her first thought of a black bear attack seemed most likely. White Rock employees were trained to lay flat and play dead but she was in excruciating pain and disoriented. Someone, not some thing, had stepped upon her. How was that possible?\n\nLooming tall above his prize, the perpetrator gazed down in disgust. It was all a lack of respect he thought. This bitch had it coming to her.\n\nTerri held a hand to one side her of her face as blood dripped down through her fingers. Terror gripped her.\n\n\"No. No, no!\" she yelled out but her voice was uncooperative. Terri scrambled to get up.\n\n\"I won't say anything. Please – let me go.\" She pleaded.\n\n\"Shut up.\" Grasping a large hunting knife with a black handle, he bent down quickly. Her filthy blood was all over the trail. She had to be moved fast.\n\n\"Please. Please.\" She reached out desperately, \"You can't do this – don't do this!\"\n\nSurges of white hot delicious adrenaline led him forward, just like all the other times. It was easy to succumb. In moments it would all be over and his head would stop pounding. Justice would be done. Eradicating another worthless lying whore wasn't going to make one bit of difference in the world. Nobody would miss her. Nobody missed the other ones.\n\nMethodically he began the dismantling of her clothes, cutting through fabric with his sharp blade. If any stray pieces of fabric or material was left behind on the trail his identity would be compromised. Nothing could be left to chance.\n\nSmall noises emitting from Terri were increasing so swiftly he silenced her with a slash to her throat. His bloodshot eyes surveyed the naked body lying in the darkening forest.\n\nBreathing erratically, he whispered confidently, \"I don't think you're having any Margaritas tonight.\"\n\n~ ~ ~\n\nKris frowned at an impatient girl standing next to the table.\n\n\"Can I take this? Are you done?\" The yellow-haired waitress bore a cold stare at Kris.\n\nMichael had excused himself to the restroom. Kris glanced in the direction of the grand hallway then back down at her plate of half eaten food.\n\n\"No thanks,\" Kris said.\n\nA glitzy fake smile spread across the buxom girl's face. She didn't fit the part of restaurant service in a majestic setting. Kris imagined her more suited to a seedy all night diner or inner city cafe.\n\n\"And his?\" The waitress grasped the edge of Michael's empty plate.\n\n\"Go for it.\" Kris raised an eyebrow. Maybe giving this stacked beauty a task would get her the hell away from the table. Throughout the meal the eager waitress kept popping up, pouring water into glasses that were three quarters full and slowly placing French rolls into the bread basket.\n\nMichael's attitude was polite but also hard to read. Kris felt a growing knot of unease.\n\nMinutes later Michael rejoined Kris. They were seated next to large windows with sweeping views of the river and valley. Kris nervously brushed tiny wrinkles out of the white tablecloth.\n\n\"Sorry,\" he said.\n\n\"No problem.\" Kris took a sip of ice water.\n\n\"Technically I'm off duty finally. Unless some emergency comes up.\" His voice ended sharply.\n\nKris felt her cheeks grow warm. Uniform gone, Michael wore a white short sleeve tee shirt. So commonplace to see him in formal starched green attire, Kris was caught up in the humanized appearance of Michael. He leaned back against the chair assessing Kris's perplexed doe eyed expression.\n\n\"Does it bother you?\"\n\n\"Does what bother me?\" She feigned a normal vocal tone. Pushing her plate away, she fidgeted with the silverware.\n\n\"My weapon,\" Michael said and folded his arms.\n\nKris had not noticed before. But she did now. He was still carrying a gun. Her gaze quickly settled upon his right hip. She blushed instantly. The revelation of his firearm coupled with the placement of the darn thing was unsettling. Staring directly at his midsection became unavoidable and she was at a loss for words. Perhaps he was toying with her.\n\n\"Does it disturb you?\" he asked.\n\nKris swallowed hard immediately ashamed of internally torquing his words into a sexual connotation.\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"I thought guns bothered you. Guess I was picking up on something else.\"\n\nKris smiled as warmly as she could. If he only knew her actual thoughts. Kris didn't feel like herself. She was about to attempt a witty comment but the bimbo waitress was heading straight for the table.\n\n\"Michael can I get you anything else tonight?\" Her words dripped with a smug attitude.\n\n\"No, we're fine.\" Michael responded but didn't take his eyes off Kris's soured expression.\n\n\"Uh, I'm Sandi. With an i at the end.\"\n\n\"Thanks, Sandi,\" he said.\n\n\"Haven't I seen you before?\" Sandi was stubbornly reluctant to leave.\n\nKris recognized a foul game when she saw one. This waitress-louse had every intention of sucking Michael toward her bubbly little sex kitten personality.\n\n\"Probably. I'm a Park Ranger here.\" He glanced up at her brimming face momentarily.\n\nKris's lips were tightly drawn together. She was not confident enough in her knowledge of Michael to differentiate whether he was being polite or faking tolerance with this nymph.\n\n\"Oh.\" Sandi half giggled. Kris failed to find anything funny about this situation. Finally at a loss for intelligent things to spew past her pink lips, Sandi moved off but not far. She started gathering dishes from the empty adjacent table.\n\n\"I'm pretty tired,\" Kris said. Her mind was spinning and torn with conflicting emotions. Old thorny memories of Adam's rude flirtations with suggestive females surged to the forefront of her mind. He claimed he never cheated. She couldn't find much weight behind the rumors that he was at the time they were together. But trusting a man was not easy. The rational section of her brain was trying to sort out the differences between Michael and Adam. It was quite stupid to compare them both. Kris was struck with the urge to go home and bring the evening to an end.\n\n\"Coffee didn't do it's trick?\" Michael observed the empty white cup in front of her.\n\nKris stared heavily at the mug tracing he finger along the porcelain handle. She had to concede she was unfairly interlacing her past with the present. Michael deserved the benefit of the doubt. But Kris couldn't shake her irritation regarding Sandi the waitress. Coupled with the rumors he was fucking Beth Taylor, Kris wondered if she stood in a pile of quicksand.\n\n\"I need to work tomorrow. Early.\" Obviously a lame excuse. He would see right through.\n\n\"I thought you said you don't go in until noon.\" Michael refreshed her memory.\n\nKris gazed blankly at him. The truth would be the best route, but she felt caught.\n\nThe lodge hall radiated with warm candle light and soft conversation. It was getting late and guests were dwindling Quite the contrast from the bustling Willow Camp hall. Kris's attention drifted out past the huge windows. Filtered bands of fleeting sunlight trickled through pine branches. Kris imagined excusing herself right then. It would be a nice walk back to camp. Long enough to mull things over.\n\n\"Thank you for dinner.\" Kris gave a courteous smile, searching for the right words leading to her departure.\n\n\"Kris.\" Michael's tone sent instant shivers down her back.\n\nHell, don't make me look at you...please. Kris grappled for a quick and clean departure.\n\n\"You didn't put on that dress for just any reason,\" he said.\n\nKris fought to keep her eyes away from his piercing stare. He had a magnetic way of drawing her in. Kris couldn't deny she was curious to spend more time with him but perhaps another day.\n\n\"I hear Red Devil Cliffs are beautiful at sunset.\" If complimenting her appearance wasn't going to work, then sparking her interest with the outdoors was worth a shot. At any rate, he could tell she was very tense.\n\nSurprised at the mention of the cliffs, Kris rejoined eye contact with him and fiddled with the edge of her napkin.\n\n\"Yeah I guess.\"\n\n\"Have you been up there?\"\n\n\"Are you suggesting some type of night hike?\"\n\n\"No,\" Michael said, shifting in his chair.\n\n\"You do realize it's an 8 mile hike to the top?\"\n\n\"I didn't say anything about hiking.\" He toyed with some silverware as if they were chess pieces.\n\nKris grimaced and tried to think.\n\n\"You're talking about the forest service road? It's blocked by two gates. And very narrow.\"\n\nFinally a bit of spunk came from her. Michael knew by playing around a little bit especially with her knowledge of the park she would emerge from her shell.\n\n\"Yes. Gates. Funny thing.\" He leaned to the side and produced a large set of keys from his jeans pocket.\n\nKris folded her arms knowing what was coming next.\n\n\"You want to go drive up there? Tonight? Is that the reason for the gun?\" She glanced at his hip.\n\n\"Hmm.\" Michael half smiled secure in his earlier assessment but he wasn't going to pursue her fear of weaponry. Not tonight.\n\n\"What?\" Kris asked, a bit prickly over his smug expression.\n\n\"We can go stare at the full moon or something.\"\n\n\"Of course. The moon.\" Perhaps he was really just like all slimy men. A night crawler with a dirty agenda on his mind.\n\n\"I'll take you back to your cabin if that's what you want,\" Michael said. Perhaps it was all too much for her to handle. He wasn't about to twist her arm to stay out and about.\n\nKris breathed out heavily. Would he drive her back if she wished? Was she making a bigger deal out of nothing? Thoughts of returning to the damp little camp and her rotting cabin were not desirable. The possibility of running into Adam in a horny mood or drunk caused her to rethink going on a stupid night drive to the cliffs. She was a little curious to see what it was like at night.\n\n\"Okay, never mind. I'll go,\" Kris said.\n\n\"You'll be safe. Don't worry.\"\n\n\"That so?\"\n\n\"Well the Pentagon and FBI think so.\"\n\n\"Great.\" Kris snorted, figuring he was kidding.\n\n\"Hurry. Sandi with an \"i\" is coming back.\" He smiled.\n\n\"Shit.\" Kris swore under her breath.\n\nMichael got up and shoved his chair up to the table.\n\nClumsily, Kris back out of her chair and nearly fell. She wobbled about for a split second until a very powerful hand slid under her arm.\n\n\"I'm not crippled.\"\n\nMichael leaned down, his lips barely grazing her ear and whispered some choice words.\n\nKris's heart lurched. The brief but erotic conveyance from him provided an instantaneous rush of adrenaline.\n\nShe was quite sure he was some night crawler with a very dirty agenda.\n\n\"Shall we?\" He gently lead her across the grand hall of the Sekonee Lodge. Kris hoped nobody she knew was watching. Except maybe Sandi with the 'i'.\n\n~ ~ ~\n\nRaina breezed along the narrow path practically skipping. Word traveled fast around camp that Kris was off on a date with the sexy new Ranger.\n\nAdam was seething with disgust and partial embarrassment at learning how far the information had traveled in such a short period of time.\n\n\"Hey Adam. Where you been? Missed ya at dinner\"\n\nAdam muttered foul words under his breath meagerly acknowledging the short haired little freak.\n\n\"Where's Kris?!\" Enough time had passed and Kris should have returned by now.\n\nRaina twisted around briefly, throwing up her hands.\n\n\"I don't know!\"\n\n\"Wench.\" Adam hissed, but she was too far out of range. Annoyed he stopped at the shower hut, checking for any sign of Kris. No such luck. What could be taking so long? His mind didn't fully want to know.\n\nIt was a murky hot evening in the valley. Earlier thunderstorms left behind elevated humidity in the region and a proliferation of aggravating bugs. Adam continued on until reaching the cabins. He slowed his pace lighting a cigarette and clicked off a small head lamp. He preferred the cloak of darkness.\n\n\"Hi Adam.\" A familiar voice caught him off guard. Adam flinched, instantly bothered by the intrusion. At the top of some steps of a ratty cabin, Randy Duncan sat quietly. Heavy pine tree branches were drooping over the roof. The porch light was broken so instead Randy had a small lantern by his side.\n\nAdam scowled. He didn't like surprises and he really didn't care for Randy. This was the second time today of running into this freak. Randy's cabin was on the very edge of a long row at the opposite end of Kris's place. Adam desired the location because it was removed from the clatter of the camp and seclusion was highly desirable to him. After losing his job with the park's trash removal service he had no choice but to take the assigned quarters in the middle of camp.\n\nKris got him the job with the Willow Camp Lodge and he quickly learned that living centralized and close to her had great benefits. Those perks were dissipating rapidly now as a new male moved in on his territory. With her focus on a slimy affair, the bastard Ranger would be coming around a lot and poking his head where it didn't belong.\n\n\"Randy.\" Adam gave a stern nod and kept on walking.\n\nAmused, Randy watched the lanky jerk saunter off into the dark. He took a sip of red wine from a little titanium cup and turned his attention back to weaving brightly colored cords together. A project that would hopefully remedy growing problems with frustrating nature walks and misbehaved children. He hummed to himself while cutting more cord and thinking about a variety of things. Adam appeared quite run down and disheveled. Maybe he'd been on one of his little explorations. Kris used to talk about Adam's weird travels off trail into the woods. Randy was pretty knowledgeable about all the surrounding hikes and back country. Seldom had he encountered Adam over the years in any of the remote or popular areas. But that was another amusing aspect of Adam Hoth. His mysterious, petulant ways.\n\n~ ~ ~\n\n\"Ungrateful bitch\" Adam found himself perspiring heavily and anger growing. Kris was nowhere in camp, and he couldn't prevent his mind from visualizing the reasons why. That ranger! Adam longed to turn them both in to the park administration for breaking obvious rules. Kris, or any lowly park worker, was absolutely not allowed at the headquarter camps above Sekonee Lodge. Breaking the rules resulted in strict punishment. Since the head admin Beth seemed to be forgoing her own set of regulations it was doubtful that blowing the whistle on Kris's stupid Ranger would have any recourse. The very thought of Kris with that prick turned Adam's stomach. Reaching the end of an abandoned row of rotting cabins, Adam stepped down heavily on overgrown ferns and dead tree branches. He was now in the ghost camp.\n\nDeciding the best course of action caused him great strife. Two options weighed on his mind. Either wait at her cabin until she returned or show up very early in the morning. She had to return at some point tonight.\n\nPulling out a slim flask he took a swift drink and threw down his backpack on a porch with gaping holes in the boards. These cabins would never be used again. The park service was too cheap to tear them down let alone replace them with new ones. Adam threw some items from his pack into the gaping void of the porch. He liked his privacy and didn't need a bunch of bums rummaging through his personal stuff.\n\nAdam lit another cigarette and entered the forest. If he traversed a little creek and crossed a debris field of boulders he would arrive unannounced at the backside of Kris's cabin. She had a cot on the porch if memory served. And waiting was his specialty.\n\n~ ~ ~\n\nKris tightly grasped the interior door handle of the truck once again. It was a rough ride and Michael did not hesitate in accelerating up the steep dirt road.\n\nHe slammed down on the brake and the truck skidded to an abrupt halt. Aware of Kris's apprehension, he was mindful not to say or do anything that would send her into an emotional exodus.\n\nCarnal desires flooding every fiber of his being were increasingly hard to suppress. From the moment Kris timidly slipped into the cab of his truck back at Willow Camp Michael had wrestled with restraint. Caught in a sensory firestorm Michael craved to do things that weren't human. Maintaining his civility and proving he wasn't a sex craved monster was unbearably challenging. He knew Kris desired him as well but she was either really good at playing coy or she was held back by fear and perhaps inexperience.\n\nPhysically she was very alluring. A rapturous deviation from ordinary females. Emotionally and intellectually, Kristjana portrayed the type of girl he longed for yet rarely became involved with. On some level he'd convinced himself that a man like him with his tainted past did not deserve a nice girl. A girl unscathed by domineering, aggressive males. Untouched by the ugliness of the world and violence that few experience in a lifetime. She was by no means innocent but lacked the seasoned corruptness he was used to in many females. Whether or not Kris was flirting with him Michael was vexed by her subtleties. Sometimes it was the tone of her words or the way she toyed with her her hair or how she seemed to mentally blank out every so often.\n\nHer long glistening blond locks begged at him. Rarely did he observe her tresses to be tightly bound or restricted. She allowed her hair to cascade down her back or around her shoulders, unhampered. Feeble attempts at putting her hair up usually resulted in half of it falling back down.\n\nPassing through Willow Camp early in the season Michael often took pause when spotting Kris on a break from work or sitting in the sun. Sometimes she chose a quiet hill that overlooked the creek running through camp. Half her hair would be loosely piled on top her head and the rest blowing softly in the breeze. Quite a few times he entertained the thought of joining her out on those grassy slopes. Yet he never did.\n\nKris's resistance at this little excursion to Red Cliffs was assuredly out of the distrust she had for him. Perhaps the remote location away from the security of the valley was unsettling to her.\n\n\"Tell me something?\" Kris asked.\n\nMichael glanced over, intrigued. He slowly smoothed his touch over the back of her hand and slid his fingers underneath her warm palm.\n\n\"Sure,\" he said.\n\nKris blinked with heavy eyes. The weight and warmth of his hand on top of hers was distracting.\n\n\"You take many dates up here?\"\n\n\"I don't take dates anywhere.\"\n\n\"What does that mean?\"\n\n\"I really don't date.\"\n\n\"Hmm. As I suspected.\" Kris glanced out the window.\n\n\"I make you nervous.\" Michael stated with acute precision. He felt a slight tremble from her.\n\n\"At first you did.\" Even if she could find the words to enlighten him she really didn't want to put forth the energy in explanations.\n\n\"You always catch me off guard. And on a bad day,\" she said.\n\n\"Are you thinking it's a mistake to pursue this?\"\n\n\"I'm not sure what this is. And if it can be called a pursuit.\"\n\n\"Are you afraid of me?\" Micheal slipped his hand between her lower back and the seat gently coaxing her to scoot closer.\n\nKris shook her head at the question. \"I wouldn't say afraid is the right term.\"\n\n\"How about last night?\"\n\n\"Last night?\"\n\n\"Were you afraid then?\" He asked.\n\nKris rubbed her forehead.\n\n\"Because I was under the influence of alcohol I was many things.\"\n\n\"Would you like me to find something for you to drink now?\" Michael offered.\n\n\"Sure. There's gotta be a bar up here somewhere,\" Kris said, trying to lighten the mood. \"Maybe I've given the wrong impression though.\"\n\nMichael thought for a few moments. \"I think I've got a few things figured out.\"\n\n\"Oh, like what?\"\n\n\"Tell me that what I whispered into your ear, didn't turn you on. Perhaps I have labored under the wrong impression\" Michael challenged gently. His annoyingly strong instincts hinted at a different premise.\n\n\"It was very vivid,\" Kris evaded his question. She didn't want to truthfully answer him. In actuality Kris couldn't get the comment out of her mind. Back at the restaurant his little sexually devious whisper ignited her curiosity. But it produced anxious concerns as well.\n\n\"Makes me wonder what kind of women you're used to.\"\n\n\"You are wondering, or worried?\" He asked.\n\n\"Both.\"\n\n\"It's not something you need to worry about.\" Clearly she was fixated on this issue. Something obviously from her past produced warning signals in her mind.\n\n\"I can be a tease at times without realizing it.\" Tossing her hair back, she peered over at him, eager to gage his response.\n\n\"Sit here.\" He patted his legs.\n\n\"You want me to sit on you?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" he said.\n\n\"What if I said no?\n\n\"Then say it.\" Michael challenged.\n\nKris complied in an awkward move to straddle him. It should have been a rather cozy position. Instead the intense eye contact with him was a bit tense and uncomfortable.\n\n\"You're not a flirt or a tease.\" With a hand sliding up her arm he fingered the shoulder strap to her dress and coaxed it down. His other hand slipped behind her neck, pulling her lips to his for only a moment.\n\nEyes piercing hers, his voice morphed into a deeply fervid tone.\n\n\"You're a enchantress of sorts. Your little ways tempt me heavily to want to do things I would never normally think of with a girl like you.\" Then he forcibly mated his mouth to hers. Kris slowly collapsed into him grasping the sides of his shirt. This enchantress assessment was pure nonsense.\n\nKris pulled back abruptly. A thick object jutting from his side was painfully gouging her knee. Michael reacted to her discomfort immediately and yanked the harnessed firearm from the holster thrusting it on to the dashboard. Refocusing his attention, he grasped her hips and brought her firmly down against his thick male organ, pulsating in defiance beneath restrictive jean fabric. She knew this was about to get out of hand quickly but there was something she needed to make clear.\n\n\"Mr. Falkenrath you may think you have me all figured out either by your own arrogance or by an inflated ego.\" Kris swallowed hard, \"Don't try and sweet talk me with this enchantress shit. Slathering me with words to diffuse my reluctance is not how it works.\" She was onto his little game of seduction.\n\nMichael watched with a certain amusement.\n\nKris continued, \"Listen here. You've contributed a great deal to my reservations but you have not successfully frightened me off.\"\n\nHe would either get mad at her noncompliance or view it as a challenge. Didn't matter though, she was testing him.\n\nMichael grappled with maintaining his self control once again. Her little fiery streak generated ideas of abandoning the slow foreplay and ripping her darn clothes off.\n\n\"I'm quite at a loss for words.\" Michael teased the fabric of her dress. Then ran a finger along her brow and slowly down her cheek.\n\n\"The only thing I wish to slather you with is the product of torrid passion that may certainly occur between us.\" Taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger he spoke in a much deeper voice, \"Don't assume you know me so well. Perhaps I was testing the waters in seeking a reaction from you.\"\n\nKris bore into his sultry gaze. \"Then I have been mistaken.\"\n\nMichael knew he wasn't scoring any points in the trust department and tried to squelch strong desires taunting his mind.\n\n\"You may not want to hear this.\" He took her hand.\n\n\"Another attempt to warn, seduce and confuse me?\" Kris lightly expounded. She was under the impression he was still playing with her.\n\nMichael decided it was the right time. She needed to know he wasn't interested in just fooling around. And she had an important decision to make.\n\n\"I was hired by Park Service this season because I am a trained killer. My methods are based from many years of experience in the military.\" He paused searching for signs of fear in her large blue eyes.\n\n\"I'm skilled in unconventional methods of taking out a human being. I'm abrasive. Ruthless. I can find gray areas to legally take down a threat.\"\n\nKris was dumbfounded.\n\n\"If you think I haven't had grave reservations getting involved with you, you'd be very mistaken. I don't want to taint you with the darkness of my past,\" Michael said.\n\nKris's throat ran dry. She'd heard one or two long unbelievable tales from Adam detailing all his stupid knowledge of the 'unconventional'. Adam was a skilled liar and manipulator. When they were in a relationship, she brushed off all the inconsistencies and crap. Later on, his bull shit was relentless. Kris knew she was quite malleable back then and regretted believing his wild lies in the first place. At this juncture in her life she was cautious about what males told her. She didn't have one reason not to trust Michael. Kris felt ashamed equating him with such a slimy bottom feeder like Adam.\n\n\"Okay. I think I get it,\" Kris said.\n\n\"I have been reluctant to open up. We have spent very little time together. Perhaps it is better to warn you at this point and not go into detail.\" He smoothed the goosebumps along her arm.\n\n\"That's a guy thing, not to open up. Nothing new to me. I just pegged you as every other idiot man.\"\n\n\"And now?\"\n\n\"I don't know exactly. You were going on a minute ago about some temptress crap. Sweet talking. You know?\"\n\n\"I am only calling it like I see it. I will sweet talk you all day long if you want. I want things you cannot imagine. Yet your innocence brings everything back to reality,\" Michael said.\n\nKris slumped a bit in his lap. If he was trying to warn her off, it was only slightly working. She would trust in him based off his behavior for now. Overall he seemed to have a soft side. He cared about her safety when a monster currently lurked in White Rock. Otherwise, why would he have walked her home after the last campfire? And after the party when she was so drunk, he could of worked that situation into something mostly benefiting himself. Yet he didn't.\n\n\"Don't assume I'm that innocent.\" Kris saw a bit of substance to this self proclaimed malicious ranger. Perhaps he did not feel worthy of her which of course was ridiculous, mostly because she felt the same way.\n\n\"Okay I won't.\" He would let her have her position on that for now. Kris need not know that she was a damn angel in his eyes in comparison to others from his past.\n\n\"And I should tell you something,\" Kris clenched his hand, \"my father was in the military. Second Lieutenant in the US Army.\" She looked down quickly, \"He died overseas. I know he did crazy things, unspeakable things. So don't try and scare me about what you've done. And don't tell me you're scared of tainting me either.\" Kris stopped talking and peered at him.\n\nClouded in his own interest Michael had not considered Kris's past. He grasped both her hands and held them together between his own.\n\n\"Forgive me. I'm being selfish.\"\n\n\"I don't scare off easily.\" Kris leaned forward, nestling into his broad chest. Hearing his heart beating against her head soothed the tense moment.\n\n\"I didn't bring you up here to discuss these types of matters, Kris. It's a conversation for another time. I'm sorry about your father.\" He threaded his fingers into her hair.\nChapter Twelve\n\nAdam approached the darkened cabin. Carefully ascending the steps, so not to make noise, he unlatched his backpack and set it down on the porch. Grasping the door handle stiffly, he gave it a turn. Locked. Fumbling around in his pockets he produced several little brass colored keys and tried them in the lock.\n\nDamn! She changed it! Adam spat furiously off the porch. The fact that she wasn't home either furthered his hostility.\n\nBreathing heavily he lit a cigarette and sat down against the front wall of the cabin, banging his head in disgust against the wood boards. He would let her have fun tonight. Get it out of her system. Hiking over to the law enforcement quarters on the other side the valley was the last thing Adam wanted to do. Instead he puffed away on his smoke, alternating with several long drinks from his flask. Kris would come back to him. He was the most patient and forgiving person she would ever know. He would wait because this fling with the ranger wasn't going to last. She would come crying back and he would be there to pick up the pieces. He closed his eyes enjoyed the blissful effects of the alcohol.\n\n~ ~ ~\n\n\"Heya Randy what's up?\" Raina strode by filled with her usual radiant enthusiasm.\n\nRandy paused from a tattered book peering up at the familiar screechy voice and waved.\n\n\"Were you looking for Kris too?\" Randy asked.\n\nRaina pounced up the steps and plunked down next to him.\n\n\"Not really.\" Raina placed her chin on his shoulder and looking down at his book. Also at his side was a sketch pad filled with pencil drawings of various flowers, trees and grasses. Randy carefully lay down his pencil on the wooden step.\n\n\"Well, they want me to put together a new interpretive trail map. I was just putting some ideas on paper. Where you off to?\" Randy put his arm around Raina.\n\n\"I don't know really. Did you say you were looking for Kris?\"\n\n\"No. But Adam was, earlier. Seemed to be angered about something.\" Randy rubbed the whiskers on his unshaven chin.\n\n\"He's such a creeper. Lately he's been real pissed. I'm sure it's because Kris is spending lots of time with the Ranger.\"\n\n\"I think so too. Kris went off with him earlier this evening. I came upon Adam hiding near the trail next to the roundabout. Like he was stalking Kris or something.\"\n\n\"Oh yeah?\"\n\n\"He was all upset, you know how he gets,\" Randy said.\n\n\"He acts like he's on a sniper hunt.\"\n\n\"Yeah. He was real pissed I was there. I said hello and went on my way. Then this evening he sulks by here asking where Kris was. Doesn't make a whole lot of sense. Adam knew already.\"\n\n\"News travels fast around here.\" Raina yawned.\n\n\"You want a beer or something?\"\n\n\"No thanks. Randy, you don't think Adam would do something bad to her do you?\"\n\nRandy scratched his head and pushed back unruly wavy hair. \"You mean like Adam hurting her? Physically?\"\n\n\"I guess. I mean I can't imagine that, but how do we know for sure?\"\n\n\"We don't know anything for sure.\"\n\n\"That's what I was thinking.\"\n\n\"Kris still befriends him which doesn't help. She acts annoyed with him occasionally but kind of friendly, you know?\" Randy stated what everyone had observed since last season. Kris was a a nice person but Adam's distorted ways produced a lot of guilt and enabling from her.\n\n\"Adam took it so much harder than she did. I don't even know who first broke it off. But she ended up feeling bad for a long time after,\" Raina said.\n\n\"Yea.\" Randy remembered the debacle quite well.\n\n\"She's obviously moved on. But not him. He's fucked up in a hundred ways.\"\n\n\"He wants attention,\" Randy said.\n\n\"I guess.\" Raina snapped her gum. Tugging on a purple and black striped sweatshirt, she plodded slowly down the steps.\n\n\"Headed off?\" Randy closed his sketch book.\n\n\"I'm outta here. Catch you later.\" Raina plodded down the steps and landed in the dirt.\n\n\"Bye.\" Randy stood and stretched, then leaned against the porch railing, watching until he could no longer catch a glimpse of her. Entering his tiny cabin, he placed his notebook and pencil on a rickety shelf next to a jar of dried flowers. Kicking his shoes off and scooting them under the bed, he lay down slowly, pausing to flick on a radio. Casually reaching back, sliding one hand under the pillow, he felt for a long, sharp object. Satisfied it was still there, he closed his eyes, humming along with the tune on the radio.\n\n~ ~ ~\n\n\"It's surreal.\" Kris took in deep breaths of cool night air, exhaling each one like a precious entity. \"I have no idea why I've worked this long in the park and never been up here at night.\"\n\nMichael carefully kept his distance a few yards away. Kris resembled a goddess the way the moon light glimmered off her hair and a breeze tickled her dress. Peering cautiously over a mammoth piece of jagged, glaciated granite, Kris found herself unexpectedly in awe. She was overcome by the tranquility but also the eerie notion of being at such a remote location at night. Edges of the treacherous cliffs were visible in the strange blue light of the moon.\n\nThe stress of the day, politics of the park, mindless work, and even the horrid attacks, melted into a blurry non existence. For a few moments she forgot about her accompaniment and continued to to let her vision and senses adjust to the night. The daytime provided an abrasive vantage point, allowing a spectator with unparalleled vision of the popular Red Devil Cliffs. They dropped off to more than four thousand feet to the valley below. Metal handrails lined a rock path, but it wasn't clear to Kris where they lay in the darkness.\n\n\"How long have you known about this?\" Kris pivoted around but as she did several loose rocks caught her flimsy shoe. Letting out a small squeaking noise, Kris clumsily sunk to the ground.\n\n\"Dammit these rocks are fucking sharp.\"\n\n\"Granite tends to be that way. Come on. You're in a bunch of loose scree.\" Michael swiftly brought her upright.\n\n\"Shit. It hurts.\" Annoyed, Kris reached for her foot, nearly losing balance. Growing a bit impatient, he reached down and scooped her up with little effort.\n\n\"What are you doing?\" Kris asked.\n\n\"Moving you to a better location.\" He finally let her down underneath a small grove of pines. Her feet sunk into a soft bed of moss. Conveniently forgetting about her sore foot, she gazed up at Michael with large, glassy eyes.\n\n\"Is this where you take advantage of me now?\" Kris spoke in a quiet voice.\n\n\"Is that what you want?\" Michael smoothed his hands around her shoulders and down her back, bringing her up close to his body.\n\n\"I think so,\" Kris said.\n\n\"You, think so? Perhaps you'd better be sure.\" He warned softly.\n\n\"And why is that?\"\n\n\"I'm not in possession of the same restraint as last night.\"\n\n\"Oh, you mean when you said you weren't going to make love to me?\"\n\n\"Yes.\" Michael ground his teeth together, practically hissing.\n\n\"Well, weren't you just the tease?\" Kris gazed up, hardly able to see his expression through dark shadows.\n\n\"Then lay down.\" His command was soft, gently coercing.\n\n\"No.\" Kris moved back slightly remembering the previous night and how Michael held back with her. Perhaps he restrained from desire because according to him, she was some innocent lass. He didn't want to unleash some mysterious sexual beast on her? Kris wasn't buying into it fully and she hated being misinterpreted. Pigeonholing her as innocent meant she was also naïve and therefore she couldn't help but rebel against such assumption.\n\n\"Over here.\" Kris slightly limped backward into a lanky Lodgepole pine tree. Most of the limbs were higher up on the trunk leaving a nice straight base. Shaking, she bumped into it. Rough bark scraped her skin. Sticks and underbrush crackled under Michael's firm steps as he approached.\n\n\"What do you plan to do with the tree?\" He asked.\n\n\"Come here and find out.\" Kris patted the trunk with a quivering hand. Intensifying amusement enveloped Michael. He complied with her wish but wasn't about to make things easy.\n\n\"What am I supposed to do with this?\" He casually leaned against the tree. Thoughts of tying her to it plagued him. A damsel in distress in the forest.\n\nKris was one step ahead. She pushed him backward against the slender trunk.\n\n\"Stay.\" Kris grasped onto his tee shirt and pulled it free from his jeans.\n\n\"Uhm, Kris...\" Michael reached for her.\n\n\"No. You stay,\" she said.\n\nMichael remained silent on the surface. Deep within him raw excitement was brewing.\n\nTaking command was actually a nice change, Kris thought. Kissing his rock solid belly just above a steel belt buckle, she heard him orate a guttural sound. Ignoring him she pushed hard with the palm of her hand into his heated organ. The thick jean fabric poorly concealed his aroused state. Kris purposefully proceeded with her plot to turn the tables on him.\n\nUn-threading his leather belt, she pushed it aside. She grasped a corner of fabric and the button which held the fly of his jeans together. Pulling it apart with her mouth was tricky but it came unbuttoned with a firm tug. Instantly Michael interwove his fingers into her hair. Kris clenched her eyes shut for a split second trying to gather courage. Grasping his zipper with her jittery fingertips Kris released the tight fabric encasing him. Michael was unable to remain still any longer. Kris nudged and pushed at him to stay put. Quickly she yanked down the front of his pants and took the head of his penis in her mouth.\n\n\"Hell.\" Michael met with pleasure filled agony. He could not have predicted this action from Kris but it was not a total shock. He was not going to be able to hold back for long with her little dominatrix act. Intensifying visions of filling her luscious mouth full of his fiery fluid only aroused him further. He was reaching an unconscious state of intense pleasure. Thoughts of stopping her were slipping away.\n\nBack and forth, over the top of his swollen head her lips went. Each time a lightening rod of carnal pleasure swelled within him.\n\nKris suddenly squeezed him tightly at the base of his cock while sliding her tongue around the soft foreskin. She began constricting and releasing her hand faster and faster while still focusing on the tip of his rigid shaft. Uncontrollable muscle contractions slammed Michael. Managing one hand to her shoulder, he pushed, commanding that she cease this oral copulation.\n\n\"Kris. Stop.\" The words were illogical to him but he knew it was the right thing. Kris slowly retreated, vexed, and confused.\n\nGazing back up at Michael, a painful shroud of embarrassment and confusion descended upon her face. Blushing bright pink, Kris scooted backward and eventually landed awkwardly on her behind. Michael cautiously sank down next to her .\n\n\"Are you alright?\" He was horrified at himself for the boorish and abrupt handling of the situation.\n\nKris struggled to face him. Diverting her eyes down at her hands and then the forest ground. A familiar unease gripped her. Kris had not expected this reaction from Michael. She wanted to crawl away and run back down the road to camp.\n\nSensing her predicament Michael wrapped a hand around her waist. Hardly a shred of fabric from her dress remained where it was supposed to.\n\n\"Look at me,\" he asked softly. Kris was not keen on responding. Michael put a hand under her chin. \"Look at me, please. Sweetheart.\"\n\nClose to tears, Kris engaged for a fleeting moment.\n\n\"Oh hell you don't understand.\" He vigorously condemned himself at that moment for getting involved. Too late to dig out of the luscious entanglement, Michael cursed himself for being a inconsiderate asshole.\n\n\"Kris what you were doing is a pretty strong and powerful thing. I truly didn't want to blow my fucking load in your mouth.\" Unable to put it any other way he traced her lips with a finger he waited for sign she understood.\n\n\"I shouldn't of.\"\n\n\"Yes, you should have. I'm caught off guard and that isn't common.\"\n\n\"Whatever.\"\n\n\"Next time I won't be such a prick, I promise. Your touch is unreal and it turns me on quite a bit. I spend much of my time trying to restrain my urges with you. I don't want to drive you away.\" The warmth of his breath spread over her cold complexion.\n\n\"I can make that decision for myself. Why would I be messing around with you if I didn't want to.\" Shit that sounds stupid Kris thought.\n\n\"I'm sorry.\" Michael cleared a strand of hair from her face.\n\n\"It's fine. I'm the one who is sorry.\" It wasn't really fine. Nothing felt fine at the moment.\n\nA smile slowly advanced across his mouth. \"You have absolutely nothing to be sorry about.\"\n\nInternally he was condemning his stupid actions.\n\nKris felt limp. \"I won't do it again.\" She tried to turn away but he grasped her arm.\n\n\"Yes you will. Do anything you want. I fucking promise I won't stop you. Just,\" Michael paused, \"be prepared.\" He slid his hand down along her hip.\n\nKris was about to inquire what be prepared exactly meant but decided it would be some unnecessary explanation. She had a vivid imagination. This evening was going to be a total waste if they kept harping on this inconvenient deviation.\n\n\"Say something else.\" Kris grabbed the collar of his shirt, attempting to kiss him. Michael countered and gently rolled into her until they were both laying in a soft bed of pine needles.\n\n\"What do you want me to say? I'm having enough trouble trying to convince you there's a gentleman underneath this rough exterior.\"\n\n\"Tell me you want me.\" Kris kissed his neck. Michael moved on top of her, moving one leg between hers and nudging upward.\n\n\"Okay, but forget the fact that I just stopped you from sucking on my cock.\"\n\n\"I'm trying, but you're not making it very easy.\" Kris reached up, lightly slapping his cheek.\n\nMessage received, he thought.\n\n\"I want this,\" he fingered the side of her dress, \"gone.\" With one hand he tore off the rest of her mangled dress.\n\n\"And you're going to buy me a new one tomorrow, right?\" Kris winced at her clothing decimation.\n\n\"Whatever you want, darling,\" he said and delicately rubbed the palm of his hand over her nipple. Kris let out a melodic groan, giving in to his touch. Michael gently depressed his hips into her speaking thickly into her ear. His words were dripping with raw, agitating promises. Every nerve ending in Kris's body was alive and electric. Unifying her hips into his, searing carnal heat enveloped her. Ravenous desires, barely controllable, seized Michael. His muscles protested with taut, constrictive anticipation.\n\nEnveloped in a visual feast of moonlight dancing off her hair raggedly splayed on the ground beneath him, Michael was betwixt. She was a perfect mess, a delicacy that only intensified his instinct to harbor her from harm. He knew these unyielding thoughts to be irrational, clouding his assessment of this perfect apparition writhing under him. Someone who had been untouchable, perplexing, seemingly unavailable was now threaded permanently in his thoughts. She desired him just as much as he did her.\n\nWith the last few ounces of reserve, Michael advanced the aching head of his cock into her constricted volume. Knowing his throbbing girth would be a bit of a shock and whether that was good or bad, he suppressed primal urges to fully embed himself.\n\nWrapping her legs tightly around him, Kris tried drawing him in further. She assumed his hesitation was some ridiculous idea once again, circling back to his viewpoint on innocence. Kris grabbed the back of his head, forcing him to listen closely. Instead he mated his mouth hard onto hers, enforcing a deep erotic kiss. Kris reciprocated the intense embrace.\n\nRipping herself from their copulating mouths, she spoke his name, \"Michael.\" Her voice was ragged and strained.\n\n\"What? What is it?\" Heart racing, nearly out of his chest he wantonly hovered above her.\n\n\"I know what you're doing.\" A thread of irritation danced in her voice. Michael could only stare down, bewildered. But realization approached him pretty quickly.\n\n\"I don't want to hurt you.\"\n\nKris was having none of it and ground her hips straight into him.\n\nMichael breathed out heavily. She couldn't be reasoned with although he suspected he was being the unreasonable one at the moment.\n\nAgain he met her lips, kissing with raw passion. Salaciously he entered her tight passage, climaxing expeditiously.\n\nSoon Kris spiraled into her own fervid apex. Michael sought to prolong her torment by reaching between their perspiring bodies and caressing her. Kris grabbed a fistful of damp earth. Kissing the soft, damp skin beneath her chin, Michael enjoyed her writhing motions and waited patiently for her body to melt into his strong arms.\n\nHeart slamming inside her chest, Kris shoved at him, trying to take a deep breath. Instead she managed shallow attempts at gaining air into her lungs. Gazing skyward she was blissfully disoriented for a few moments but so relaxed time stood still.\n\n\"You're going to get cold.\" Michael encased her slender frame against his massively warmth. Safe, protected in Michael's enormous arms, the only thing still reminding her of what just transpired was his finger intertwining a long ragged lock of her hair.\n\nSmoothing his strong hand over the side of her pale face, his expression returned to the familiar, serious demeanor Kris had come to know.\n\n\"We need to go.\" He uttered softly, kissing her neck.\n\n\"I know.\" Wishing to remain in his arms all night long, Kris could not remember the last time she felt so exhausted and so safe. But he was right, it was getting cold. Crisp night air was descending fast upon them and her attire was basically destroyed.\n\nSecretly happy Michael made the first move, Kris was quickly pulled to her feet. Thankfully the truck was a short distance from the clearing of trees. The forest was eerily quiet. Only the crackle of rocks and crunch of pine needles under their feet kept the silence at bay.\nChapter Thirteen\n\n\"I'm not supposed to be here.\" Kris stood in the doorway to the little house. In one hand she tightly grasped a steaming cup of coffee, the other hand clenched a handful of fabric. Michael loaned her some sweat pants yet they were so big on her lithesome waist, she had no choice but to hold them up constantly.\n\n\"Then they can fire me.\" Michael spoke in his usual commanding tone. \"Are you cold?\" He watched Kris hovering in the open door.\n\n\"Kind of.\" Kris spoke in a hushed voice, her words trailing off while yawning.\n\n\"You're not going to get me in trouble.\" Michael coaxed her into the room and shut the door firmly.\n\nKris gazed around the small home. The windows were painted a green trim, starkly contrasting the white walls. Kris leisurely strolled around the space, politely observing. Michael kept everything rather plain. Sterile almost. No personal items like photographs or magazines. Everything had a place and was very tidy. A full size bed was positioned against short square windows at the far end of the room. A red and green plaid blanket sparked an immediate desire to lie down. The only thing keeping her awake besides the coffee was the afterglow of their forest encounter. She was losing the battle with fatigue and drifting towards a heavy urge to sleep.\n\n\"Lay down.\" Michael's hands slid over Kris's shoulders. An emptiness stole her mind, canceling the urge to produce small talk. Kris reached backward and touched the top of his hand.\n\n\"I insist.\" He guided her to the bed.\n\nShe carefully placed the coffee on a tiny table. Michael clearly displayed ingrained habits resulting from his time in the armed services. The level of cleanliness around his quarters dictated meticulous attention. Not even a stray pine needle was safe. In a strange way it all resonated familiarity with Kris stemming from her upbringing. Moving around the country meant living in sterile little homes on and off bases. Visions of her strict father was etched forever in her mind. His passing some years ago had left Kris with unpleasant reminders. In her mother's attempt to fill a void, control and a firm hand took over. Unfortunately her mother also became terminally withdrawn and emotionally unavailable.\n\n\"In about ten minutes I'm going to feel the effects of that.\" Kris motioned toward the coffee.\n\nSitting gingerly on the edge of the bed, a small wave of modesty coursed through her. She disrobed from the bulky clothes and grasping the heavy covers, she slid underneath. The stiff cotton sheets were cold against her skin so she curled up into a ball and closed her eyes and hoped warmth would come quickly.\n\nMichael's attention to her was brief. He unlaced his boots and placed them near the door.\n\n\"I'll be outside for a few minutes.\" He lifted a radio from one of three charging units on a long shelf.\n\n\"Lovely.\" Kris poked her head up from the blankets momentarily but sank back down and snuggled her face into the pillow. It was absolute heaven. The aroma of Michael's personal aroma and woodsy pine filled her with a sense of calmness. She clung to each breath and tugged the covers right up to her chin until sleep took over.\n\n~ ~ ~\n\nMorning announced itself all too rapidly. As the sun climbed over tall granite spires, rays of sunshine cascaded down into steep canyons and blanketed lush meadows. Filtered light finally filled the small house. Kris found difficulty in waking, disoriented at first but subdued by Michael's presence.\n\nShe'd barely noticed him all night even though he slept right next to her. Perhaps his soothing warmth or the depth of her tiredness provide the uninterrupted sleep.\n\nThankful but confused he didn't try anything during the night or that morning, Kris focused on getting ready for work.\n\n\"You are enormously lucky to have a shower.\" Kris grasped the door handle to the small bathroom.\n\n\"Think so?\" Michael was distracted over new events being reported on his laptop. For some ridiculous reason the was only finding out now.\n\n\"I know so.\" Kris muttered the words to herself. A private bathroom. What total bliss. It was hard to remember what it was like to shower alone and not have to worry about wearing ripped up shower shoes and whether or not the hot water would hold out.\n\nMichael held a tablet computer in one hand and grabbed several papers spewing out of a small fax machine. A new report indicated another missing female worker. Any second a loud obnoxious knock would bring the peaceful morning to a halt. He was sure of it. Michael had little privacy. Administrative personnel usually showed up unannounced at his living quarters. If Michael failed to promptly respond to radio communication, a panic ensued from staff.\n\nBut this morning nobody had tried to get a hold of him. The previous night he turned the radio off to provide Kris uninterrupted sleep. It wasn't so easy finding slumber himself. But he wasn't about to take advantage of this tempting creature. Emotional attachment was growing and complicating everything. Now he wrestled with very persuasive desires that gave new meaning to vivid imagination.\n\nInforming Kris of the bad news gave him great pause. There wasn't much to tell yet. The entire camp probably knew by this point although the story being passed along was going to be highly contorted.\n\nKris watched from the bathroom doorway. Something was strongly deferring his attention. She decided it was time to hurry. Surely Michael needed to be on duty. And the wonderful world of servicing messy impatient tourists beckoned her.\n\nMichael heard the hiss and sputtering of the faucet. He rubbed his tired eyes, then yanked out a neatly folded park ranger uniform from a small closet. A set of handcuffs immediately fell to the floor in a heavy thud. He often kept restraints tucked into the pockets for times when he was called to an incident in the middle of the night.\n\nSunlight caught the bright shiny metal laying at his feet. Instead of picking them up right away, his thoughts drifted off in a very peculiar direction.\n\nNo. Michael practically spoke the words out loud to himself. All that danced before him were dripping wet visions of Kris in his shower.\n\nDenying the urge to act on his fantasies, he quickly pulled on his work pants and threaded the belt. And then her voice called from the bathroom. His hands froze against his belt buckle. Voicing his name once more, Kris opened the door a crack. Her hair was piled loosely on top of her head and dripping water made small puddles on the floor. The rest of her body remained hidden behind the door. Steam escaped in large waves.\n\n\"Can I help you?\" Michael asked.\n\n\"You have shampoo but no soap.\"\n\n\"Right. Sorry about that.\" Michael was instantly relieved to have a task. The inclination to act on his lustful desire was distracting him ferociously. Soap, you fucking machine. Where's the soap?\n\nMichael surveyed his living quarters. Visions of lathering rich suds over Kris's lithe anatomy were vexing him. Kissing her candy-sweet, mouth and then running his tongue over those taut nipples with warm water cascading over them both. He was lost. Spellbound by fantasies. Grasping a cabinet door handle he yanked hard and the inner contents spilled out at his feet.\n\n\"Dammit!\" Reaching back into the deep cabinet he grasped a small box of soap. Standing too quickly rendered him a bit lightheaded. Not nearly a drop of blood remained in his brain, instead it settled in an engorged region between his legs.\n\nThe toe of his boot caught the forgotten metal shackles still laying on the floor. He pocketed them quickly and went into the bathroom.\n\n\"Michael?\" Through the frosted glass of the shower door she saw the dark blurry shape of Michael's figure.\n\n\"Oh, perfect.\" Kris poked her head out and caught sight of the box of soap clenched in his hand.\n\nGrabbing the open shower door, Michael stood like a statue. Kris frowned curiously at his odd appearance of no shirt and dark green khakis.\n\n\"What's wrong?\" She asked, water streaming down the side of her face.\n\nWithout warning, Michael stepped into the shower. The water instantly soaked the side of his pants.\n\nKris opened her mouth but no words came out.\n\n\"Michael, your shoes. What are you doing?\"\n\nHe latched the shower door and reached for her. Swiftly he kissed her hard, backing her against the warm tile. Water cascaded everywhere, drenching him as the embrace intensified.\n\nMichael put his hands on her waist, coaxing her to turn. He grasped one of her arms, flattening her hand to the tiled shower wall.\n\n\"You're under my arrest.\" He growled in a devilish voice and then raised her other arm slowly against the tile.\n\n\"What on earth?\" Kris laughed nervously.\n\nHe kissed the back of her neck and then slid his tongue down to the top of her shoulder, enveloping her silken skin.\n\n\"I'm completely insane. I want you.\" Reaching into his drenched pocket he fished out the handcuffs.\n\n\"Oh my god.\" Kris felt cold metal against her belly. \"What are you doing with those?\"\n\n\"I think they're going to help us.\"\n\n\"To do what? I just asked you for some soap.\"\n\nHe pressed both her palms flat against the wall again since she was making little fists. Gradually he dragged the flat side of handcuffs down between her legs. At first he teased the inside of her upper thigh, guiding the metal along her supple skin.\n\n\"How is this helping us?\" Kris asked.\n\n\"Tell me you're really a bad girl.\"\n\n\"I'm, what?\"\n\n\"Tell me.\" He practically hissed.\n\n\"I don't know how this goes. I've never done this before,\" Kris said.\n\n\"I want to see her. Feel her. Fuck her.\" Seductively, the words slithered out of his mouth.\n\n\"Michael. Please...\" Kris's heart was racing. His voice produced a tidal wave of emotion mixed with a small bit of fear. Kris felt chilled despite the heavy warmth of the water and Michael's body.\n\nShe just spent last night trying to convince this man that she wasn't as innocent as he pegged her to be.\n\n\"Does it scare you?\" Water dripping off his tongue like a hungry beast.\n\n\"Yes.\" Kris admitted under her breath. \"Sort of.\"\n\nMichael dragged the cold steel inside her thigh.\n\n\"Tell me you want me.\" He grazed her breast with his free hand.\n\nKris tried to wriggle free. She needed to look into his eyes. But he prevented her from twisting around. Drawing in a shallow, uneven breath, Kris cleared her throat. His gradual and deliberate badgering was beginning to arouse her.\n\n\"Yes,\" she said in a weak voice.\n\n\"What was that?\" He pretended not to hear her.\n\n\"I want you.\" Kris's voice shook uncontrollably. Anticipation of their sultry copulation vexed her.\n\n\"I'm sorry, but I can't hear what you're saying.\"\n\n\"I want you! Dammit, just fuck me.\" Kris screamed out, a bit annoyed but knowing it was all part of the game.\n\n\"That's better.\" His voice softened.\n\n\"We're going to be late to work you know.\" Kris reminded him.\n\n\"Put your feet against mine.\" He commanded in a voice Kris hadn't heard before. It was smooth, low and almost threatening. Breathing in harshly and forgetting to exhale, she complied. Kris scooted her bare feet against his soaked boots.\n\n\"How badly do you want this?\" Licking the side of her ear, Michael brought his thickness against her legs, bantering back and forth.\n\nKris stared at the shower floor, watching the water swirl down the drain. If only her inhibitions would disappear as well. His protuberance was massive. How on earth had she not notice before? Or had she put it out of her mind in the last five or six hours?\n\nHe moved the cuffs over her swollen clitoris, back and forth, making sure the smooth metal was deliberately stimulating her.\n\nKris let out a muffled moan.\n\n\"How bad? Tell me.\" Michael slid his hand around her neck and up her chin, dragging a finger over her lip.\n\nKris muttered something from the back of her throat.\n\nOne minute she could hardly bare the intense spell he held over her, the next minute she felt like retreating into a familiar shell. Michael pulled her tightly against his fervid body.\n\nHe twisted her around and kissed her long and hard. Kris was having trouble matching his intensity so she reached far into her mind.\n\n\"If I'm the bad girl, then you're the bad ranger I secretly fantasize about when I'm alone.\" She practically whispered, water draining off her mangled hair. Pushing at him in an act of playful resistance, she instructed, \"Just take me. Do whatever you want with me.\" Her pleading contained only a thin strand of certainty, although her reservation was disintegrating.\n\nMichael took her fast and tight, kissing her jawline, moving to her neck. Deliciously tasting her sweet flesh, overcome with unrestrained passion. Her permission was all he wanted.\n\nA hot, unhampered shroud descended on Kris. A loud clank sounded as the handcuffs dropped to the tile floor. Turning her around once more, Michael smoothed his strong hands over her hips. Tormenting her by rubbing his sex organ back and forth between her legs only lasted so long before his self control wore out. Finally he entered her taut chamber with a vicious thrust. Kris swore out unintelligible words.\n\nMichael ignited sensations unfamiliar to Kris. Plunging himself deep and forceful inside her, Michael tried to constantly remind himself not to take this too far. Gritting his teeth in raw delight at her slick, tight chasm, he snaked a finger around the front of her body to attend to her sensitive bud of flesh. Kris could hardly remain standing, teetering on a euphoric edge.\n\nAs if to pester him, she took his hands, laying them against her breasts. Michael's vocal chords produced deep primal groans, while he continued to embed his swollen sex organ into her.\n\nAnother excruciating thrust into her tightness yielded a wild and uncontrolled orgasm. Waves of contractions struck Kris all at once. Grabbing onto his arm to thwart loss of balance, Kris's head seized backward against his chest. Michael held onto her quickly.\n\nKris now knew that whatever generative thoughts were coursing through him, he finally abandoned his plan to remain a nice boy. She liked it. She liked it more than she had imagined.\n\nTwisting around to face him, Michael fornicated his lips to hers, forcing her mouth open wide, deeply mating his hot tongue with hers.\n\nWater streamed down his face and through his short black hair. Kris pushed back for a moment, licking her lips languidly, her eyes piercing deeply into his. She imagined the last of her fear floating down the drain.\n\nRaising a hand to her mouth, she slowly sucked a finger in and out. The signal did not go unnoticed. An uncharacteristic wicked smile grew steadily across Michael's face.\n\n\"Kneel down.\" He motioned in a tight, hurried voice. Kris sunk to her knees, confronting Michael's rigid beast.\n\nGrasping his aching cock with one hand, he introduced it to her wet lips. Kris took him immediately, deeply, encircling her tongue while drawing him in and out of her mouth.\n\nMichael called out her name as a little warning that his climax was imminent. Threading his stiffening fingers through her sopping hair, Michael swiftly abolished the strong reservations to which he clung. Kris pressed her lips and mouth tightly around the head of his cock producing a fiery spasm at last.\n\nMichael swore violently under the steamy shroud of the hot water. Kris accepted his hot, thick nectar to enter her mouth.\n\nDrawing her lips back slowly, licking the end of his thickly swollen shaft, Kris glanced upward. Water blinded her and Michael launched at the faucet, twisting it off with some force.\n\nChest heaving, water streaming off his hair onto Kris below, rational thoughts eluded his impassioned mind. Thudding backward into the shower wall, he reached for Kris, pulling her swiftly to her feet. Michael needed to gaze upon the creature that captivated him so.\n\nStrong, muscular arms wrapped around her slender body. With one ear to his chest, Kris closed her eyes, feeling unyielding contractions of Michael's heart.\n\n\"Kiss me.\" He whispered in a ragged breath.\n\nWrapping her arms tight around his fervid midsection, Kris complied with his request. Significantly more gentle than past kisses, Michael's lips caressed her mouth, tasting the effects of their passion. Her body sent out a random shiver.\n\nBy no easy feat he shed his soaked boots and attire, quickly exiting the shower and wrapping Kris in a thick green towel.\n\n\"You know what this means?\" He let out a raspy cough.\n\nKris shook her head.\n\nMichael tapped on his large military grade wristwatch.\n\n\"You were right, we are going to be late for work.\" Naked and still unsettled, he wrapped his arms around Kris, lifting her up. Unable to find satiation, he took her lips to his, intensely mating their mouths together. Kris let the towel drop, and wrapped her legs around his midsection, drawing him in like prey.\n\n\"Baby, don't you dare.\" Kissing her once more, he hastily let her slip down, out of his arms.\n\n\"You know I should be a lot more freaked out about what time it is. I'm sure reality will catch up later,\" Kris said.\n\n\"Not if I have anything to say about it,\" Michael said, his finger coiled in a lock of her hair. Duty calls, you idiot. Tearing his attention away, he exited the bathroom for a split second.\n\nWater droplets from her long tangled hair created a small puddle of water on the floor. She wasn't as adept at transitions like him and so she stood for several moments until his voice coaxed her back to reality.\n\n\"Kris? We should get going.\" Michael leaned on the bathroom door knob.\n\n\"Yes. You're right. I know.\" Kris forced a smile. Michael was back in the mode of park security officer and ranger. Kris shut the bathroom door and stood naked in front of a small round wall mirror. Now was not the time to wonder what the hell she was doing with this guy. Again these pestering self confidence issues were surfacing at the worst time. Kris angrily pushed doubt away and quickly got dressed.\nChapter Fourteen\n\nA strong hand on her arm broke the self induced trance. Gazing over at Michael, she politely smiled and then returned to surveying the edge of the roundabout for anyone familiar. Anyone who would recognize her. An evil force, ready to run around and spread crazy rumors regarding her affair with a park ranger.\n\nGrasping the door handle, she readied herself to say a hurried goodbye to Michael and head straight for the Willow Camp hall to perhaps blending in with the other arriving staff.\n\n\"Are you regretting this thing between us?\" Michael chose his words carefully knowing Kris was in panic mode to get to work. The hour was not as late as they feared allowing for plenty of time to get where they both needed to be.\n\nThis thing between us? Thing?! Kris stared down at his hand. At least he provided a definition. No more mystery on what was going on.\n\n\"I'm not regretting anything.\" Kris slid toward the door, yanking hard on the handle. Just as she escaped the uncomfortable atmosphere of the truck cab and shut the passenger side door, the loud idle of the truck stopped. Kris's heart skipped a beat and reset with a harsh thud. Michael was coming around toward her. Her grip tightened around the carrying strap of her pack. Clumsily taking a few steps backward, Kris avoided eye contact.\n\n\"I have to get going,\" she said.\n\nSensing her emotional anguish, Michael approached and softly grasped both her arms. Kris looked down at the ground and then her gaze stretched off into the distance.\n\n\"I'm sorry.\"\n\nKris brushed off his apology with a quick nod.\n\n\"How stupid am I? Can't handle a hot night with a hot guy?\" Kris snorted, reeling in an abrupt emotional decline. Of course it didn't help that Michael was so intimidating.\n\nHe embraced her in a strong hug and thread his fingers into damp hair. Kris gave in and pressed her face into his neck, closing her eyes. An electric transference of soothing energy overpowered her silly insecure thoughts. The safety of being in his arms, although foreign to Kris, was greatly needed.\n\nCupping the back of her head, Michael leaned down gently meeting her lips, but not in a kiss. His breath cascaded over her mouth and his words were low and soft.\n\n\"You're anything but stupid. I would do anything for you, Kris.\" He swept a long shiny strand of her hair over her ear.\n\n\"Don't mind me. I just have you chalked up to every other shitty man out there.\" Kris tried to diffuse the situation immediately.\n\nMichael ran a finger under her chin and up to her lip.\n\n\"Don't make light of it. I'm not easy to deal with. My own demons are trying hard to convince me I should not be involved with you.\" Michael pulled her tight against him. Kris had grown to crave his body close hers but she winced now, some of the items on his duty belt poking her uncomfortably.\n\n\"I don't deserve someone like you,\" he said.\n\nKris tried to interrupt but he was having none of it, placing his fingers over her lips.\n\nHe spoke gruffly, losing much of his empathetic tone from before. \"When you become a killing machine, even in the distortion and justification that you are wiping out the bad guys, there are significant parts of your humanity that you lose. Your view of the world changes. The gruesome actions of my past have a profound impact on who I am right now.\"\n\nKris lay a shaky hand to the side of his face, lost in his steel blue eyes.\n\n\"Why are you bringing this up again?\" Kris grabbed his wrist and kissed the inside of his hand.\n\nMichael realized he wasn't impressing enough severity on her.\n\n\"I'm a risk. Being with me is a bit of a gamble.\" Not an expert at giving this type of speech to a female, he was on unfamiliar ground.\n\nKris narrowed her eyes. Part of what she was hearing sounded a bit like the bull shit Adam used to come up with. Almost an arrogant type of admission.\n\nKris took in a deep breath, thinking hard. \"Wait. Okay, so what makes you so different from the idiot out there attacking everyone?\"\n\n\"Ah, well. I could tell you many psychological differences, but I'll spare you.\" Michael had to admit she was a lot smarter than the rest of the females from his past. \"Good point, though.\" He didn't want to treat her as if she was ignorant.\n\n\"You'll spare me?\" Kris wasn't about to get distracted on the compliment that she indeed had a good point.\n\nBack tracking a little, Michael shifted his posture. Kris felt slight relief from some of his duty belt contraptions poking at her.\n\n\"We both need to get going. I'll tell you this, whoever is attacking females did not start out by killing them. But this idiot finds a certain demented pleasure in ending someone's life. The problem is, the more and more harm they inflict, the more unsettled they become,\" Michael said.\n\n\"So that means, what? they are getting more unpredictable in order to achieve their satisfaction?\" Kris didn't like the sound of this.\n\n\"Exactly.\"\n\nKris clenched her teeth together producing an ache in her jaw. The added physical and emotional stress regarding this park killer wasn't going to clarify this burgeoning romantic relationship with Michael.\n\n\"Let's discuss it another time. You can tell me all the psychological crap you want.\" Kris brushed the hair from her face. She kissed him quickly on the cheek, and then leaned down to grab her bag once more.\n\nMicheal remained still, other than grasping the front of his duty belt, and studying Kris as she readied herself for departure.\n\n\"Explain to me quickly, though -\" Kris pursed her lips together, gazing off at another car driving slowly around the circular dead end. \"What makes you say being with you is a gamble? Are you going to suddenly morph into a terrible person?\"\n\nThe car in the roundabout apparently thought it was a good place to park. Several people piled out and started making a lot of disruptive noise. Michael was keenly aware but ignoring the ruckus.\n\n\"I say gamble because there are rules against us getting involved, because your safety is involved due to my investigation, and because generally I can be a bit aggressive sometimes and withdrawn other times.\"\n\nKris was walking backward carefully to avoid tripping on branches and rocks.\n\n\"Okay, I get it. I'll consider myself warned. I promise.\" She pointed to the people walking away from their car.\n\nMichael didn't need to see the idiots behind him to know what was going on. They were about to get a fat ticket for parking in the roundabout and obstructing the road. Park security was the only authorized entity to park in such a way.\n\nGiving a quick nod, he turned sideways, glancing back.\n\n\"Michael?\" Kris called out loudly, before she was too far gone. \"There's too many rules! Maybe you can do something about them.\"\n\n\"Understood,\" Michael said and then walked off toward the noisy tourists. Kris waved and then started quickly down the dirt trail, disappearing into thick trees.\n\nSeveral coworkers on mountain bikes zipped by Kris, yelling out abrupt greetings. Lost in thought, she gave little attention to them. After a moment or two, she realized she needed to start running if she were to make it down to the hall on time. Being late was not common for her.\n\nMichael dealt with the misguided tourists and then climbed in his truck. He impatiently waited until the perturbed bunch of people moved their dumpy vehicle.\n\nA remaining thought plagued him after attempting to warn Kris minutes ago. Adam's jealousy wasn't going to be pleasant. And the rest of the motley workers around Willow Camp would have a field day with the entire situation. A park ranger screwing a waitress. Michael was not blind to the rumors regarding his ongoing sexual involvement with Beth Taylor. Kris was bound to confront him on it sooner or later.\n\n~ ~ ~\n\nOut of breath and head pounding, Kris was extremely happy to find the main lodge doors unlocked. Quietly she entered and tiptoed to the staff locker room in back of the kitchen. Dropping her pack on the floor she carefully sat on a long wooden bench. Although she was flattered by Michael's insistence that she looked rather ravishing in his boxers and tee earlier, she begged for a detour over to the store to get a standard employee uniform.\n\nIf caught in Michael's starchy clean under garments, Kris could suffer an eternity of ridicule, not to mention a dark cloud over her reputation. Not that she cared a great deal about reputations, but there were enough girls labeled whores in the park already, some deservedly, some not. Raina once came to work every day for a month wearing a sheer top and no bra. That stint did not go unnoticed by a large swath of guys. Thriving on the attention, Raina failed to recognize the fact that she had attracted scum bag variety males. Jerks lusting after a quick hook up or blow job during her break at work. In Raina's view, there was nothing really wrong with all that. She had thicker skin than Kris and was adept at letting foul comments, mainly from other female workers, roll right off her back.\n\nKris made a mental note to start carrying a change of clothes in her backpack. Provided Michael invited her to stay more often. Although it was risky and jeopardizing her job to stay at his quarters, she felt entirely more relaxed further away from Willow Camp and Adam. The problem was getting over to the far side of the valley. Kris owned a car but since it wasn't really necessary during the season, and bear break-ins were common with vehicles, she kept it in storage. Kris never worried about transportation during the summer. Getting a ride back to town wouldn't be hard, enough workers also headed that direction come September.\n\nDisorganized thoughts of staying past the summer season were beginning to wear her out. One thing was for sure, with Adam sulking around, her private life wasn't going to be so private. Of course the developing interlude with Michael was going to be a factor. It was too early to figure things out.\n\nReaching into the dark green and gold plastic shop bag, she produced a pair of khaki work pants and a navy blue polo shirt with the park logo. They were standard issue work clothes for most positions, but not food service. Boss was adamant that the girls in the hall wore the short black skirts and white fitted tops. Kris kept several pairs in her cabin. For today, Boss would just have to put up with this outfit. Kris knew she would take a lot of shit on it though.\n\nA loud slam of the front doors echoed, breaking the stillness. Kris flinched. She yanked the tags off the clothes and put them on hurriedly. Stuffing everything into her locker, she carefully closed it and snapped off the light. Opening the door a crack, she saw no one.\n\nA moment later the familiar humming of Joseph, the kitchen washer, grew louder and louder. Kris pushed open the dressing room door and quickly slipped out. Joseph rounded the corner.\n\n\"Hell!\" He grabbed his chest faking a heart attack. \"You're here early Kris!\" Toning his exaggerated reaction, Joseph flashed his famous smile then continued humming even louder, taking a fresh apron off a long rack.\n\n\"Who opened? You?\" He asked, igniting the back fryers and stove. Kris nervously patted down the creases in her new clothes.\n\n\"Uhh, no. It was open when I got here.\" Grabbing a smaller smock she tied it around her waist, adding some pencils and a pad of paper. Then she took a stack of fresh towels off the commercial washer and started for the dining area.\n\nJoseph cranked up the volume on the radio and began singing along with a country tune.\n\nThe paranoia of being late and awkwardly facing questions was gone from her mind. She was the only waitress to show up so far. It was ten after nine, and already the day promised to be hopelessly long.\nChapter Fifteen\n\nAdam sat hunched over on the bottom step of Kris's cabin. He was irritated and hung over after spending the entire night on her porch. Reality was biting him in the ass. No question, she spent the entire night with the ranger. Adding to his foul disposition, Adam was over an hour late for work. Kris would either cover for him or she would behave like a total bitch princess and refuse to do the right thing.\n\nHe imagined her at the hall floating around fresh in the afterglow of her night of cheating. She was nothing more than a damaged charlatan. He was sweating profusely even though the morning was quite cool, Adam vomited violently several times on the side of Kris's cabin. Kicking dirt and forest material over his expulsion, Adam jerked his pack over one shoulder and started walking. The urge for a drink was intense, but he needed the job badly. Waltzing in hung over wasn't going to go unnoticed by their damn prying eyes. Taking a few swift shots of whiskey from his nearly empty flask, Adam started to feel better.\n\n\"Adam!\" A short pudgy girl spotted him and quickly rushed up.\n\n\"What the hell?\" Adam side stepped the stupid bitch, offended she would fling herself so close to him. Drawing a cigarette from a jacket pocket, he impatiently lit it, took some shallow puffs then blew a trail of smoke into the girl's reddened face.\n\n\"Crap, Adam!\" She seemed none to pleased at the plume of rancid smoke. \"Wait, come back here.\" She stood struggling to speak but choked by a cough. Adam ignored her and walked toward the main trail. Angela quickly caught up to him.\n\n\"Wait just darn minute. I'm trying to ask you if you've seen Terri?\"\n\nAdam drew a long puff on the cigarette, narrowing his eyes at what he viewed to be a nasty female specimen.\n\nSighing heavily he decided to be of some help and give this fat idiot some insight.\n\n\"Why don't you check the local bars?\" He spat on the ground.\n\nAngela tried to ignore his crass comment.\n\n\"Did you see her last night? Someone said you guys were seen together yesterday?\"\n\nAdam maintained his pace, increasing his stride. Angela struggled to keep up along side him.\n\n\"Who the fuck said that?\"\n\n\"I dunno. Lot of people. Were you with her?\"\n\n\"Why? Need to borrow a tampon?\"\n\nAngela's jaw dropped.\n\n\"You're crude Adam. What the hell is wrong with you? We're just trying to find Terri.\"\n\n\"And so you shall.\" Adam was tired of this conversation. He ditched his cigarette to the ground and made no attempt to snuff it out.\n\n\"You're fucking weird.\" Angela watched him depart in disbelief. She stepped on the smoldering butt and muttered several disgruntled remarks. Plodding off, her voice echoed throughout the small camp, calling Terri's name.\n\nBy the time Adam reached his own cabin, people were everywhere, frantically milling around, tears being shed. He was massively disgusted at these stupid humans.\n\n\"Hey Adam. We were looking for you.\" A familiar voice crackled.\n\nIt was Randy Duncan, disheveled like he'd been crawling around in the woods for days.\n\nAdam sternly faced him.\n\n\"Why the fuck are you looking for me?\" Adam bristled.\n\n\"Hey, man, chill. Terri is missing. Nobody's seen her since yesterday afternoon. I was knocking at your door earlier. Where were you dude?\" Randy brushed some leaves out of his unruly hair.\n\nAdam gazed upon the lowly creatures around camp. A foul haze hung in the air.\n\n\"Where's all the smoke coming from?\" Adam asked.\n\n\"Huh?\" Randy gazed out around the camp. \"I guess there's a fire.\" Scratching his head he tried again. \"Adam, man, have you seen Terri or not?\"\n\n\"I haven't seen the stupid whore.\" Adam pivoted, pounding up the stairs. He was highly bothered answering to this woodland rat.\n\n\"Well, where were you before? Where'd you just come from?\" Randy grasped the railing, staring up at him.\n\nAdam cocked his head, peering down at nature-boy. Perhaps he could work this foul situation to his benefit.\n\n\"At Kris's. All night. She's at work. Go ask her.\" Adam smiled devilishly.\n\n~ ~ ~\n\nNoon inconspicuously slipped by. The day grew increasingly busy with patrons coming and going.\n\nWiping dark red ketchup stains off her pants, Kris threw aside a soiled rag and crawled on her hands and knees underneath a table. Bright orange macaroni and cheese was smashed into the fibers of the carpet.\n\n\"Damn.\" Kris sat back on her heels and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand.\n\n\"Are we having fun?\" A nefarious voice resonated above.\n\nKris was in no mood, instantly recognizing the thorny individual. She slid backward and stood, bits of macaroni falling off her pants.\n\n\"What the hell do you want? You have some nerve showing up this late. Why'd you even bother?\" Kris put her hands to her hips.\n\nArrogantly poised in front of her, amidst the total chaos of the hall, Adam grinned feverishly.\n\nScowling, Kris left without waiting for him to answer. She desperately needed more rags from the kitchen. Like a stray dog, Adam followed, yet wary of onlookers. Slamming through the swinging kitchen doors, Kris maneuvered into the back, grabbing white towels out of a large bin. Not realizing Adam was right behind her, she flew right into him.\n\n\"Dammit. What the hell are are you doing?\" Very cross, Kris moved sideways trying to quickly get past him.\n\n\"We need to talk.\" He pointed to the back door.\n\n\"In case your stupid brain didn't notice, we're getting creamed out there, and you're fucking late. And because you weren't here this morning, everything is backed up.\"\n\n\"He give it to you good? Huh, Kris? Was he a good fuck for you?\" Adam moved closer, bits of saliva flying out of his mouth. Kris stumbled backward. Anger swelled within her, but she fought to keep a handle on it, not wanting a confrontation in public. Throwing the towels into an empty plastic crate on the floor, Kris clamped her mouth shut and managed to calmly weave through the busy kitchen until reaching the back door. Thrusting it open hard, she was greeted by warm, hazy air. Adam was right behind her.\n\n\"How the hell did you know?\" Kris grabbed her hips digging her nails in hard.\n\n\"I know everything, Kris. I know where you go, who you're with, what you're doing. I know what a fucking cheating bitch you are. How you're out to hurt me by using that asshole. It's not going to work.\" Adam lit a cigarette, eying her reaction.\n\nKris started pacing while rubbing her brow.\n\n\"Adam. What the hell do you want from me? I mean, it's over. It's been over. I'm not trying to hurt you. I'm not playing a game. You're just really crazy. You have an actual mental disorder.\"\n\n\"Come now babe. You're the crazy one. We both know that.\"\n\n\"You know shit, Adam. You think you have me all figured out. This is all a warped game to you.\"\n\n\"Nooo. This is life. And I'm trying to help you see the mistake you're making.\"\n\n\"Oh! And what the hell would that be? I'm making a mistake not being with you? Staying the night with someone I care about and who cares about me? You can't stand it, so you make up tons of lies and tell them over and over to yourself.\" Kris knew he was attempting to warp her thoughts. She was tired physically and mentally. It was increasingly hard to stay one step ahead of him.\n\n\"Babe -\"\n\n\"Don't call me that. Don't ever call me that.\"\n\n\"Fine.\" Adam had a smug smile on his face. He enjoyed getting her so rattled. It wasn't very hard to pull at Kris's strings. Fishing for another cigarette, he leaned back against the exterior kitchen wall.\n\n\"I'm not coming back next season,\" Kris said.\n\n\"And leave your new lover? I doubt that.\"\n\n\"Why don't you leave, Adam? You hate all the girls in this park, and let's face it, you hate your crappy job. You can't stand seeing me move on with someone else. Why don't you just go make a fresh start?\"\n\n\"You'd like that, wouldn't you?\"\n\nKris sensed a large headache coming on. She didn't have much longer before Dale noticed she was missing inside.\n\n\"I don't care what you do.\"\n\n\"Sure you do.\" Adam forced out a long trail of smoke. \"You're punishing me with this Ranger. But your little fling will fall apart just like always. Then you'll come running right back.\"\n\n\"Wow.\" Kris threw up her hands, aimlessly taking several steps past the dumpster.\n\n\"You don't get it my darling. I'm the most forgiving person you'll ever meet. I'm also the smartest person you'll ever meet.\"\n\n\"I'm tired of this.\" Kris turned around stomping past him and grabbing the door handle. She paused, trying to think of something really threatening, really awful to spit at him, to make him realize he was truly delusional.\n\n\"Stay away from me. Stay away from my cabin. Leave my friends alone and if I find you stalking me, or even hear about it, I'm going straight to headquarters and getting you fired.\"\n\nAdam slowly brought the lit cigarette to his pale lips, looking at her like prey.\n\n\"You do that babe.\"\n\nEnraged, Kris nearly hissed at him before yanking forcefully on the door.\n\nSeething, Kris could hardly see straight. This situation with Adam was impossible. It had grown out of control like a cancerous tumor. Grasping for a solution was creating desperation.\n\n\"Kris!\" A voice called out.\n\nShaking, Kris swung around, searching for a face. Moving through a line of people she saw the worried expression of Jake McAllister.\n\n\"I'm glad you're here.\" He reached for her arm.\n\n\"Jake, what? What's the matter?\" Kris rested a stack of towels on a nearby table.\n\n\"Over here.\" He pulled her off to the side near the front doors. \"Terri's missing.\"\n\nCold prickles instantly ran up Kris's arms and the back of her neck.\n\n\"What? What do you mean, missing?\" Her eyes grew wide.\n\nJake moved her further down a darkened hallway.\n\n\"She didn't show at work today. Nobody's seen her since yesterday afternoon. They got a big search going all over camp.\"\n\n\"Oh my god.\" Kris put a hand to her mouth.\n\n\"From what I understand, the new ranger, whatever his name is, he's putting together a search team.\" Jake coughed hard like he'd been running and couldn't catch his breath.\n\n\"That's good.\" Kris could hardly speak.\n\n\"There's a helicopter coming, I think. I dunno.\"\n\n\"What are they saying? Same attacker?\"\n\n\"I guess. Look, have you seen her? At all, anywhere today?\" Jake seemed to be losing it.\n\n\"No. Not at all. I've been at work.\"\n\n\"Okay.\" He nodded a bunch of times, gazing out at the crowd of unassuming people.\n\n\"They're saying to not go anywhere alone. Go straight home after work. Everyone wants to help with the search but it's all a mess right now.\" Jake hit the wall out of frustration.\n\n\"Jake, calm down. For heaven's sake. They'll find her. I know it. Michael is good, he'll put the right people on it.\" Kris grabbed his shoulder.\n\n\"You mean the Ranger?\"\n\n\"Yes.\" Kris bit the side of her mouth. \"I gotta finish here. It's crazy. So busy today.\" Kris was getting lightheaded and could see Raina signaling for her at a group of tables.\n\n\"Yeah.\" Jake started for the doors, but then turned around.\n\n\"Was Adam with you last night?\"\n\nKris's heart nearly stopped.\n\n\"Uh, what do you mean? No, he wasn't with me.\"\n\n\"No reason I guess. Randy thought he saw Adam stalking around the north camp, late. And he wasn't at his quarters this morning. Was he with you?\"\n\nThe tiny hairs on the back of Kris's neck prickled. An overwhelming pain gathered strength in her gut. Slowly she shook her head from side to side. Jake watched the color drain from her face.\n\n\"He wasn't with you?\" Jake confirmed, confused at her reaction.\n\n\"No. Hell no.\"\n\n\"Do you know where he is now?\" Jake surveyed people behind Kris.\n\n\"Adam was in back of the kitchen. Outside. I thought he was going to work his shift.\" Kris turned and looked through the open counters. Joseph was washing dishes and Boss was talking on the phone.\n\n\"We just had a fight.\"\n\n\"Just stay away from him. He was probably passed out drunk. Randy is the one who brought it all up.\"\n\n\"I have nothing to say to that asshole. Adam, I mean.\"\n\n\"Okay, okay.\" Jake was clearly perplexed. \"I'll see you later.\" Jake bolted out the main doors, brushing past several entering patrons. Kris struggled to get herself together. Jake, like most everyone in camp, associated Kris with Adam. And apparently nobody was of the understanding they were broken up for good. Why were people always assuming Kris was intricately involved in the details of Adam's sorted life? It was beginning to piss her off.\n\n~ ~ ~\n\nA long ragged lock of blond hair drifted down from her loose bun and swayed back and forth. Kris rubbed vigorously on a messy table. Dried chocolate ice cream and tomato sauce were cemented so hard onto the finish of the table, Kris was ready to find a putty knife. Secretly she was thankful for the distraction of work. It was four o'clock and the calm before the storm of dinner hour. Adam wound up staying and working his shift, yet nobody paid much attention.\n\nKris was obsessing over the notion that Adam could be a suspect. Her former boyfriend, hurting women? Killing them? He was a drunk, anti-social, narcissistic, rude and over-sexed, jerk, but killing and mutilating females? It just wasn't possible.\n\n\"Miss! 'Scuse me, miss!\"\n\nKris slapped a towel on the table she had been working on, giving up on the battle of sticky food.\n\n\"We want to be seated. There's six in our party. Do you have a table that will seat all of us? Can we put two tables together?\" A large man with a huge belly that practically stuck out of a brightly colored Hawaiian shirt was briskly pacing around the hostess podium.\n\nKris pulled her unruly hair back, briefly squinting at the bright orange sunlight coming through the main doors.\n\n\"Are you seating yet? Is dinner being served? Can we push those tables together? The ones over there, near the windows.\" He gestured with a big hairy arm.\n\n\"Yes, follow me please.\" Kris counted out six menus from underneath the podium and lead him to a big booth next to the windows. A variety of people from his party followed, remarking and talking in elevated voices.\n\n\"And do you have a drink menu? Where's the bar? We were hoping for cocktails before we eat.\" The man huffed and puffed, motioning for everyone to sit down.\n\n\"I'm sorry, sir, there is no bar in the lodge. You can purchase wine by the glass or beer up at the drink station, over there.\" Kris pointed.\n\n\"Well! Honey, you're not getting your Manhattan.\" The man laughed gruffly at his wife. Kris pushed an additional square table up to the booth table to accommodate the large party, then spread out the menus.\n\n\"I'll be back shortly to take your order. Can I get anyone started with something to drink?\"\n\n\"Yeah, miss, you can get water for all of us. Is it from the tap? Or is your water filtered here?\" A fancily dressed woman with a metallic blue shirt and clanking gold bracelets snapped impatiently at Kris.\n\n\"Where's the appetizers on this menu? Honey, they don't have hardly anything to eat here.\"\n\n\"Hey, Bob, you can have an Elk burger. Live a little and try some fucking Elk meat.\"\n\nKris smiled politely at another beastly male, slightly smaller than the Hawaiian shirt man, but Kris knew the type. All hot air to cover for lack of a decent personality.\n\n\"Our water is filtered, ma'am.\" The water actually came straight out of a faucet at the waitress station. Luckily the little spout was hidden by walls and shelves containing glass and silverware. Many visitors asked about the filtration. Kris used to suggest they buy bottled water, for a $1.50. But Dale got tired of ordering the water extra for the the lodge and specified to staff to just lie about the water being filtered. It came from a deep well within the park, so essentially the filtering tale wasn't a lie, at least that was Kris's rationale.\n\n\"What about salads? You don't have any salads on here?\" A rather pale girl with stringy black hair shrouding her face, blurted out.\n\n\"You can order a salad as a side. Our salad bar is just over there.\" Kris motioned to the brightly lit row of bins underneath some protective glass.\n\n\"They don't have a regular bar but they have one for salads!\" The large man burst out laughing at his own joke, while the male next to him playfully punched his arm.\n\n\"How about a round of beers?\"\n\n\"Domestic or imported?\" Kris scribbled down quickly before turning her attention to the prickly woman.\n\n\"Oh hell, hopefully imported.\" The big man grunted.\n\n\"If you have a nice, dry, white wine, I'll have a glass.\"\n\n\"Yes, ma'am,\" Kris said.\n\n\"Just bring the whole the bottle, otherwise you'll be brining glasses of wine all night.\" Once more the man boomed out in laughter.\n\n\"Yes sir.\" Kris waited for the rest of them to decide on drinks before leaving the table to start working on the orders. Absorbed by the distraction of work, her mind finally faded into a comfortably numb state.\n\n~ ~ ~\n\nMinutes blurred into hours as the lodge came alive with people coming and going, eating, and relaxing after a long day. The line at the front doors started to thin out, signaling the lateness of the hour.\n\nKris pushed through the double doors leading to the kitchen. Instantly a sharp pain stabbed her lower back. Pausing for a second next to some stacked crates of produce, Kris tried taking some deep breaths and waited for the pain to subside.\n\n\"Kristjana, you're off. Get out of here and go home.\" Dale rounded the corner, frowning.\n\n\"Yes, Boss.\"\n\n\"What's wrong with you?\"\n\n\"Nothing. It'll pass in a minute.\" Kris gingerly reached up gathering unruly hair and twisting it.\n\n\"Who the hell stacked all this here?\"\n\n\"I have no idea, I just came back.\"\n\n\"If I've told these idiots once, I've told them a thousand times, produce can't stay in this hot kitchen.\"\n\n\"Want me to put it in the cooler?\" Kris quickly offered to move the sloppily stacked food even though she doubted she possessed the ability to lift heavy crates at the moment.\n\n\"No. Go home.\" Dale waddled off and yelled for Joseph.\n\nKris untied her apron and hung it on a long rack of other dirty garments.\n\n\"And Kris?\"\n\n\"Yeah Boss?\"\n\n\"Don't wander around on the way up. And take that person with you.\" Dale disappeared just as a familiar short haired spitfire slammed through the swinging doors.\n\n\"I heard that!\" Raina yelled out after him, kicking her foot in the air. \"Asshole.\" She muttered harshly and pushed Kris into the locker room.\n\n\"Are you off?\" Raina snapped her gum, plopping down on a bench.\n\n\"Yeah. I guess you are too, now.\" Kris raised her eyebrows.\n\n\"I'm gonna blow. It's crazy today. We are so understaffed.\" Raina produced a huge bubble, quickly popped it, and sucked it back into her mouth.\n\n\"So, you know about Terri?\" Kris sat down.\n\n\"I know. I heard.\"\n\n\"Could of been one of us.\"\n\n\"Hell no. Terri's a fucking wench. Fucking park whore. She had it coming.\"\n\nKris slammed her locker abruptly, at a loss for words.\n\n\"Hey, I'm only stating the obvious. You weren't no friends with Terri.\" Raina kicked her feet up on an open locker door.\n\n\"She's not a whore. You know, some people say that about you.\"\n\n\"Ask me if I care what any shit head thinks in this place. All's I'm sayin' is Terri has fooled around with the wrong people. She's got a reputation, you know?\"\n\nKris leaned against the lockers, staring at the ceiling.\n\n\"And that justifies the attack?\" Kris felt disgusted. Terri was a party girl, flaunted herself often and could be shamelessly outspoken. But Kris couldn't tolerate the insensitive comments coming from her best friend.\n\n\"How do we even know it was an attack? It's a joke. Nobody can find her.\" Raina stood, yanking off her apron. \"She has that older boyfriend. The one she's always bragging about? He lives like, over in the valley. She's probably with him right now.\"\n\nSighing heavily, Kris wished she could speak to Michael. He would have better insight instead of this conjecture.\n\n\"I'm out of here.\" Kris grabbed her things.\n\n\"You been shopping?\" Raina eyed the bag.\n\n\"Sorta.\" Kris brushed her off.\n\nBefore the conversation became too personal, Kris ushered Raina out the back.\n\nThick haze greeted them once outside. A hot shroud of orange light and pungent smoke blanketed the valley.\n\n\"What's going on?\" Raina pinched her nose in disgust.\n\n\"No clue.\" Kris squinted, coughing harshly. Obviously a fire somewhere was pushing smoke into the region. It was a bit early in the season for wildfires. Spring had just released its grip on the high country and only a hand full of weeks posted high temperatures.\n\nRaina grabbed a handful of fabric from Kris's shirt while they stood, perplexed over the surreal landscape.\n\n\"I'm sorry. I'm being a bitch about Terri. I never liked her much, but I guess she doesn't deserve to be cut into pieces.\" Raina knew better than to leave things unsettled between her and Kris.\n\n\"You're not telling me anything new. I know she's not your favorite person. I haven't forgotten.\" Kris reminded Raina she wasn't brainless when it came to past events. Terri could be a devious skank. She created female enemies rather efficiently. Might have something to do with her knack for stealing men that were taken already. Her fondness for flocking to new guys that joined the staff was legendary.\n\nKris had resolved a thorny issue involving Terri last summer. Adam still denied screwing around with the red headed tramp while Kris and he were officially together. A lot of gossip coming out of the camp told a different story however. Whatever the truth was, Kris was positive that Adam hungrily accepted Terri's onslaught of sexual advances since their breakup. If there had been cheating, the entire blame did not rest on Terri alone. Adam was sexually charged constantly. Not in terms of conquest, but to satisfy an insatiable need for some release. Kris saw the inner demons he struggled with on a daily basis. If he turned to Terri and probably many others in the park, Kris could only take further comfort in her decision to exit the relationship.\n\n\"Terri may have stolen away that real hottie I was lusting after, remember? But she was fucking Adam too. At the same time,\" Raina said.\n\n\"I'm over that.\" Kris thought back to last summer when Raina was head over heels for a new worker. Terri snatched him up fast. He ended up transferring to another park.\n\n\"I don't know why you don't hate her guts.\"\n\n\"Raina, because. It's not worth it. Adam is just as slimy as she is and I don't know what the real story was back then. I don't care care anymore.\"\n\n\"Okay whatever. Let's not talk about Terri anymore.\"\n\n\"I wish they'd just find her. All this is amping my stress level. I had a big fight with Adam earlier. He's spreading more lies.\"\n\nBoth girls started walking toward the trail leading back to camp.\n\n\"Like what?\" Raina spit her gum into a bush.\n\n\"Apparently he's going around telling everyone we were together last night.\"\n\n\"What the fuck?\" Raina grabbed a branch and snapped it off.\n\n\"I think he said it to cover his ass. I'm pretty sure he spent the whole night passed out on my porch.\" Kris swallowed hard. \"Waiting for me to come home.\"\n\n\"But you never did, did ya?\" Raina smiled.\n\n\"Exactly.\" Kris half grimaced, her back intermittently aching as the path became steep.\n\n\"Stay away from Adam. Kris, please. Don't even talk to him. Pretend he doesn't exist. You're too nice. He eats up any attention you give him.\"\n\n\"I know. It's not exactly easy when we live in this place.\" Kris snorted a short laugh, turning her attention toward the camp grounds and slowly moving people.\n\n\"Hey, I'll see you later.\" Raina trotted off, kicking up dust and walking backward.\n\n\"Why?\" Kris called after.\n\n\"Campfire meeting!\" Raina yelled before bouncing around and skipping off.\n\nCampfire meeting again so soon? Things must be bad. Michael was surely caught up in the investigation. Kris tugged at her backpack and quickly started for her cabin.\nChapter Sixteen\n\nMichael tightly grasped a radio in one hand and a stack of papers containing new information on the missing girl in the other. Terri White wasn't well liked, and the spotty information gathered by amateur investigators didn't paint a cohesive picture. The other females attacked and killed were young, mostly naive, inexperienced park workers. Terri didn't fit that description. Since her body was yet to be found, Michael was leaning toward two possibilities. The perpetrator was taking greater care in covering his tracks, or Terri skipped out of the park, failing to notify anyone.\n\nWithout respectable friends, why would she bother to announce her departure? But, conversely, she had a stable job at White Rock running the Willow Camp supply shop. Leaving behind the employment didn't make sense. What was her motivation? People described her as a city girl, partier, dissatisfied growing up in a small town and then turning to nearby White Rock. A scum bag boyfriend seemed to hold her attention from time to time, but the jerk had been contacted by authorities. The boyfriend displayed little concern for her whereabouts, and Michael was finding an increase in the likelihood that foul play was involved.\n\nHe stared down blankly at the scribbled notes once more. None of the details were relevant to the growing suspicion that she was dead. One thing clung to Michael's mind, however. She was loose. Sexually promiscuous to the point of seeking out people for graphic sexual acts. She cared not whether the participant was male or female, although most of her friends agreed she preferred men. According to several males who were willing to spill vivid details about sexual encounters with Terri, it was evident she was the resident porn star. Could her disappearance be an act of revenge by a former lover?\n\nMichael lay the stack of papers on the hood of his truck and grabbed a large coffee. Taking a gulp of the warm drink, he imagined it was also possible Terri got high on drugs, went out for a walk and never came back. Experience nagged at him that the rational explanation didn't make sense in this case. He had to concede Terri was targeted by the same individual who was attacking and mutilating other women.\n\nVisions of Kris interrupted his thought process. As usual he knew the best avenue was to quickly suppress all thoughts of her. Instinctively he knew the distraction of someone he cared about would cloud his judgment and ability to do his job. But flashbacks from the morning were teasing him. Her internal struggle to let go and trust him was probably par for the course. But he couldn't shake growing concern.\n\nMichael wished at that moment he could whisk Kris away from the park. She was at risk just like any other female. Her distraction with him could be putting her own life in great jeopardy.\n\nMichael loathed his selfish actions of wanting this gentle creature all to himself and somehow absorbing the goodness that flowed from her. Could it erase the darkness from him? It was wishful thinking. He was undeserving of her affections. Perhaps putting a stop to the affair before it grew deeper was the responsible act. Future plans with a female was pointless. His history with the opposite sex ended with too much pain and turmoil. A future with Kris was unthinkable at this point. It did not matter what he desired, or what she wanted. Avoiding casualties was the more important factor.\n\nHearing footsteps, Michael turned his attention to the trail on the other side of his truck. It was a rarely used path above Black Creek. The forest was thick and shrouded by heavy underbrush. On a hunch, Michael had decided to check it out, especially since the majority of the search team was down by the meadows and river. Eerie smoke hung low in the fleeting afternoon light. Michael cleared up the papers and other items off the hood of his truck, thrusting them back into the cab of the vehicle. Less than two hours remained until the campfire meeting. Not able to present any new information on the missing girl was frustrating.\n\nA tall figure stiffly making its way up the trail approached. Michael came around to the front of the truck.\n\nExpecting to greet a park tourist, Michael tried to shake the cloud of darkness over him. But as the stranger grew near, Michael took a step back. It was Kris's infamous ex boyfriend.\n\nAt first Adam appeared startled, not expecting the head park ranger to be stationed in such a remote location. Adam tried to straighten his demeanor quickly, pretending to be aloof.\n\nThe front tires of the Dodge truck were parked right in the middle of the goddamn trail, Adam had little choice but to address the horrible man.\n\nSolicitously passing around Michael and the truck, Adam gave a quick nod. He'd much rather have skirted the idiot ranger and his bloated truck, but it was too late. Deviating into the woods would of raised too much suspicion.\n\n\"Sir.\" Adam gave a gruff greeting to the man who had stolen his girl.\n\n\"Adam, is it?\" Michael was intrigued. Watching the lanky peculiar individual scuttle past, provoked him to engage a bit more.\n\nAdam slowed in his pace but refrained from turning around. He wanted to get the fuck out of there immediately. Internally he cursed himself for being so lost in thought about Kris, that he failed to see the Ranger's truck before it was too late.\n\nTurning to face Kris's new toy, Adam smirked at the asshole, who obviously enjoyed playing a very dangerous game.\n\n\"Going for a hike?\" Michael leaned casually against the truck.\n\nAdam cocked his head in response. \"Looks that way.\"\n\nA few moments of awkward silence passed. Adam gave in, dishing out a little barb to the self important ranger.\n\n\"Must be nice to be able to break the rules.\"\n\n\"And how's that?\"\n\nAdam pointed to the truck. \"Ever hear of leave-no-trace?\"\n\n\"I have.\" Michael raised an eyebrow.\n\n\"Not supposed to drive vehicles this far up in the canyon.\" Adam smugly informed him, since the idiot didn't seem to get it.\n\n\"I have an exception.\" Michael studied the willowy man.\n\n\"Well where do I sign up?\" Adam snorted to himself, ready to keep walking.\n\n\"Kind of late in the day to head into back country, isn't it?\"\n\n\"No.\" Adam responded quickly. Shifting his pack he appeared slightly anxious.\n\nGetting a good look at Adam's feeble luggage, Michael assumed this strange character wasn't going to be spending the night in high country. He carried far too little, judging from the size and weight of the day pack. But it wasn't a crime to take an ambitious hike late in the day either.\n\n\"You might want to be careful. The smoke from the fires gets pretty thick over that ridge.\" Trying to diffuse the tension, Michael thought offering some helpful information was in order.\n\n\"Great.\" A thread of disgust laced Adam's response.\n\n\"Certainly is nice to find a quiet trail, this time of day.\" Michael acted as if the conversation had run its course.\n\nAdam remained, half torn about continuing on. He was highly curious about what the Ranger was doing at this particular location. It was too close.\n\n\"You just doing trail maintenance or something?\" Adam asked.\n\n\"No. But maybe you can help me out.\" Michael reached inside the cab of his truck, and grasped some papers.\n\n\"With what?\"\n\n\"We're looking for a missing girl.\" Michael approached, stepping heavily over loose rock.\n\n\"I thought everyone was all excited over somethin'.\"\n\nMichael stopped a few feet away, sorting through the papers, prolonging Adam's unease.\n\n\"Oh you know how it is. Tourist season. People getting lost.\" Michael held out a photocopy of Terri. Adam began to reach for the picture, but withdrew his grasp after eying the photo. Shakily, he shoved his hand into a jacket pocket.\n\n\"Do you know Terri White?\" Michael asked.\n\n\"Not really. She works somewhere here. I think. I've heard her name mentioned.\" Adam tried to brush off his apprehension.\n\n\"She works at the Willow Camp store.\" Micheal's voice slid down into a deeper tone.\n\n\"I never go in there. Too expensive.\"\n\n\"Have you seen her around lately?\"\n\n\"No. Well, I don't think so. You should ask my ex-girlfriend, she probably knows where she is.\"\n\n\"Ms. White lives a few doors down from you, is that right?\"\n\n\"She might. Every year there's a bunch of new girls down that row. So many people coming and going. You know how that is, don't you? In your line of work, I would think it's pretty hard to keep faces and names straight.\" Adam's speech was speeding up.\n\n\"Well it is a challenge, but I do my best.\"\n\nMichael offered the flyer once more. \"Why don't you take one of these? And if you think of anything that could be of help, there's a number at the bottom.\" Michael grew serious. Adam's deviation from the truth about knowing Terri was troublesome.\n\nAfter having interviewed most of the camp workers that lived along the same row as Adam and Terri, there was little doubt to the ongoing sexual fornications between the two. While the tryst remained secretive to Kris, others were well aware of Adam's fondness for Terri in a rather deviant, and lustful context.\n\nSome pretty raunchy times were had between the two. If Adam was as intent on getting back together with Kris, as many indicated, he would permanently damage his chances if Kris found out he was fucking Terri. Of course, Adam would not divulge his dealings with Terri at this point, for fear of becoming a suspect in her disappearance. Michael wasn't terribly convinced this spindly, depraved creature was capable of killing anyone. With an absence of solid evidence linking Adam to Terri's abrupt departure, Michael's hands were tied. Instinct nagged at him, however. Surely, Adam played a role in something sleazy. Michael knew to be patient and let the facts drizzle out. Or wait until the pressure broke Adam down, forcing him to make damning mistakes.\n\n\"Nice Walther. P99. Not standard police issue. What type of ammo?\" Adam's piercing eyes were fashioned to the large German firearm holstered on Michael's hip. Michael was caught a little off guard, but knew suspects in distress often chatted on about ridiculous things. It was also an attempt on Adam's behalf to bolster his self importance.\n\nThe inference to his gun was Adam's way of quickly side stepping the uncomfortable situation, so Michael played along.\n\n\".40 cal Federal Hydra-Shok JHP.\" Michael informed him.\n\n\"Ah. Didn't think the park service allowed it.\" Smirking, Adam continued, \"Hmm, expanding loads delivered with the 40. Recoil must be a bitch.\" Adam rubbed his chin.\n\nPlacing his hand on the butt of the black firearm, Michael was annoyed with the arrogance of Adam. If his purpose was to side step the Terri issue and prove he wasn't intimidated by authority, it was failing. Michael's patience grew thin.\n\n\"The recoil is no problem. I have no restrictions on choice of ammunition for this weapon.\" Michael practically shoved the flyer at Adam once more.\n\nAdam snatched the sheet from him and took several bumbling steps backward. \"I'll ask around.\" Folding the paper, he tucked it into a front jacket pocket.\n\nWith the pungent smell of smoke and heavy ash crippling ease of breathing, Michael had not caught a whiff of the alcohol until that moment. He realized Adam was very much a loner and probably hiked this far out to escape the confines of camp, finding solace to drink alone.\n\n\"One last thing.\" Michael called out, watching Adam traipse higher along the trail.\n\n\"What?\" Adam swiveled back a little, but kept walking.\n\n\"You and Terri.\" Michael spoke loudly, watching Adam wince as if a painful splinter shot up his fingernail.\n\n\"Excuse me?\"\n\n\"Did you guys ever go hiking?\" Michael moved around to the other side of his truck.\n\n\"No!\" Adam stopped for a minute, then added, \"I heard she didn't like hiking anyway, so I would have never asked.\"\n\nMichael opened the cab door and sat down. He doubted many females would accept a proposition of hiking from Adam.\n\nTerri may have been out in the woods. She may have been out with Adam, for whatever reason. Michael suspected she was still out here, somewhere.\n\nWith hands grasping the steering wheel, commanding the truck over steep terrain, Michael tried to focus on the campfire meeting, but he couldn't disengage from the interaction with Adam. Everyone in camp was eager to point out how obsessed Adam was with Kris. Why didn't Adam display his jealousy at Michael back there? It was his chance to vent some disgust, anger or even threaten Michael to stay away from his prized Kris. Something just wasn't right.\n\nPerhaps Kris could shed some more light on Adam. Michael sensed she contained a great deal of important details into Adam's foul character. But Michael would have to approach the topic carefully. His interrogation methods could bristle people the wrong way, and he sure as hell didn't want to chance screwing up the sensitive ground between he and Kris. Previous thoughts of cutting off relations with her seemed impossible.\n\n~ ~ ~\n\nSwearing violently under his breath, Adam kept pausing to take a good long look back to see if the authoritarian ranger was gone. Once he was sure of not being followed or watched, Adam stumbled back down the trail to where the truck had blocked a key point.\n\nAdam noted the old rotted pine tree stump, and turned sharply for a thicket of trees flanking a steep ravine. The trail split into a Y, but since it was hard to find, most people missed it.\n\nEying the ground, and moving dirt and debris around with his boot, Adam methodically searched for any trace of her blood.\n\nOnce he was satisfied, he set to work laying leaf and tree matter all over the ground. Even with fires in the high country, hikers were sure to traverse this trail. Taking a swift drink of whiskey from his flask, Adam shed his backpack and then started down the ravine. He had to make sure the body couldn't be easily spotted from the trail. Terri wasn't the skinniest bitch on the planet.\n\nSliding down the steep embankment, loose rocks constantly broke free and hit the body below. At several points, Adam nearly lost his foothold. Without rope to tie himself onto a tree or boulder, he tumbled along, a bit out of control until reaching the bottom. Pulling thorny branches from his clothing, Adam slid down a bit further. Terri's body lay on a small jut of granite, poking out from the scree field. Right below was a small stream, its banks heavily lined with Manzanita and scrub brush.\n\nDigging a large grave in the steep hillside next to thickly rooted trees wasn't an option. If that ridiculous search and rescue team made their way over here, the dogs would surely sniff out the body.\n\n\"Bitch.\" Adam stared down at Terri's grey, swollen flesh. Dried blood was caked around her face and limbs. Pulling a bandanna around his own nose and mouth, Adam began kicking and shoving at the side of her body. He kept shoving until it heavily rolled off the granite shelf into the stream. The water was fairly cold, and pooled up around her body. It was just deep enough for her to be submerged. Hopefully wild beasts would leave it alone. Wheezing heavily, Adam sat back on the narrow edge of the stream. He sucked down a long drink of whiskey. Recapping it, he coughed violently. The only real solution was to burn her. But not today. Tomorrow would be better. The risk of her putrid body smoking up the canyon was too great. Word of a campfire meeting was circulating before he left, and with the amphitheater down wind of this area, Adam knew he had little choice but to wait.\n\nTomorrow he would hike back to the creek, bringing some fuel like white gas or propane. Get her really burnt to a crisp, which wouldn't be easy now that she was in the water. Even the most diligent search team wouldn't find much left of her. And that clueless, self-deluded Ranger surely would not find Terri's body. Adam was positive Michael wouldn't find the next one either.\nChapter Seventeen\n\nWiping a trace of sweat from her brow, Kris dragged her feet up the path, past several large granite boulders, and finally reached the cool confines of the thick forest. Nature's air conditioning, or swift currents cascading off snow capped mountain peaks, was noticeably absent. Oppressive heat had settled into the region, as well as a thick haze of smoke. Breathing heavily, Kris pushed herself to get home in spite of the hazardous air.\n\nPractically tripping up her rickety steps, she fumbled for her keys, and let out a raspy cough. Impatient and tired, she rattled the lock and thrust the door open. Dank, musty air greeted her senses. She did not enter the cabin. Swearing a bit under her breath, she leaned down to untie her shoes. A small brown bag with the park logo sat aside the door. A small golden bow was fastened at the top. Kris stared at the gift in bewilderment, and kicked off her other shoe. Straightening up, she glanced around seeking a clue as to who had left this gift. Only a bluish haze choked the camp.\n\nKris carefully took the bag, and cautiously peered inside. A large smile emerged across her face. Quickly she went in and pushed the door shut. A few hours remained until the campfire meeting. She desperately needed a nap and something to eat. After yanking hard to open windows, she busied herself looking for food. Finding nothing but old granola bars, Kris settled on making coffee. Messily she dumped coffee grinds into a tiny filter basket, then filled a metal pot with a bottle of water laying on the floor. She lit her little camp stove, and waited for the water to boil. Impatient, she returned to the mysterious gift.\n\nCarefully untying the bow she reached in, touching thin, sheer fabric. Slowly withdrawing it, she knew instantly what it was and why it was given. A beautiful little red halter dress. Not found in any store within White Rock, that she knew of. And it was red. A color Kris seldom wore. The gesture was quite obvious. Michael was offering a replacement after tearing apart her attire the previous night. Smiling to herself, Kris scrambled to her feet and fished for a hanger in her foot locker. She hung the dress on a coat hook near the door and stood back to admire it.\n\nA red dress. Well, maybe more coral than red. Perhaps Michael intended for her to wear it that evening? To the campfire meeting? Such a nice piece of clothing seemed too far out of place to wear to the dirty bowels of the amphitheater. Or, did he mean for her to wear it another time? Why leave it on her door this evening?\n\nKris returned to the coffee and poured steaming water into a titanium mug. She set the tiny basket in the water to steep. A crude way of making crappy coffee, but it was all she had. Kris coughed and nervously sat on her bed while gazing at the dress. The hem was much too short in her estimation, nowhere near her level of modesty. Kris would certainly acquire the title of camp prostitute if she wore it tonight.\n\nForgetting the coffee, Kris slumped over on the bed, and soon fell fast asleep.\n\n~ ~ ~\n\nAdam spit at the ground, unsheathing his large tactical knife. Rubbing the flat side of the blade with the edge of his thumb, he strolled aimlessly back into the dense forest. His disgust with Kris was intolerable. And that damned Ranger! How dare the fool accost him with such probing questions. Kris's crazy personality was matched perfectly to that rogue wannabe. Two stubborn traitors. He was tired of waiting for impending disaster with this burdensome affair. Adam's thoughts gravitated toward punishment. The ranger had the law on his side. But Kris was easily manipulated. She was insecure within relationships. Adam needed to find the best way to remind her that she was a cruel and awful girlfriend. Advise her that the only option was returning to the one man who knew intricate details about her. Only Adam could endure her two faced personality and low self esteem. She just needed a taste of how things used to be.\n\nAdam found a small clearing in the brush, carefully stepping out, eying the surroundings. That bastard, Randy took far more notice than usual to Adam's whereabouts lately. Why didn't these stupid people keep to themselves? Privacy was a foreign concept to these ridiculous humans, Adam thought. Everyone at this forsaken camp was constantly in each others' business. Gladly one less whore walked the face of the earth. Terri White was done spewing her twisted merriment around. A loose bitch that shouldn't have trusted him. Adam had grown tired of fucking her. She was screwing everybody and deserved to be put out of her demented misery. And even if Kris discovered his sexual relations with Terri, at least the bimbo was no longer around to confirm or deny what had taken place.\n\nAdam strode out between two vacant cabins. He often took solace in the northeast side. The infamous ghost town section, with rotting cabins flapping in the breeze. Ancient dwellings from early on in the park's history, yet mired in political red tape due to fanatical historians who wanted to preserve the structures. Adam once sided with the crazy folks, but now every season, more people frequented the cabins. It was a desired location for having parties or doing drugs. Screams, noises, clatter went unnoticed. And even better, rangers and security never patrolled the area. You could smoke weed all night and crawl off to work in the morning and nobody would care.\n\nBut now, all sorts of idiots used the ghost camp. Newbie park workers, misguided tourists and it was even rumored Beth Taylor had fucked that ranger Falkenrath here. Talk from officials had restarted recently about unleashing the bulldozers on the dilapidated camp.\n\nAdam withdrew a cigarette from the band of his hat and dangled it between his thin lips. Lighting it quickly with a small plastic lighter, he inhaled the pungent smoke. Relaxing at his regular spot of cabin 606, he delayed his journey back to the main camp. Thinking hard, he tried to remember where he last stashed a can of fuel. Buying a new one wasn't an option at the moment. Too suspicious. There used to be an old rusty can of propane underneath some loose floor boards of his cabin.\n\nMemories instantly surfaced thinking about all the backpacking junk secretly lying under his abode. He told Kris he threw it out in a fit of rage after their last excursion. A trip that he and Kris took last summer. One of the best times of his life. And now she was ready and willing to throw all the memories, experiences and their love, into a deep abyss.\n\nThe sound of crunching footsteps cemented his thoughts to a halt. Fearing it was someone who would recognize him, Adam quickly disappeared in between the cabins. Ready for a quick departure into the forest, he paused, slightly curious to identify the visitor. Quietly he snuffed his smoke into the dirt. Peeking around the corner of one cabin, he waited impatiently.\n\nEmerging slowly was a young girl. He did not recognize her. In fact, she appeared much too juvenile to work at the park. His mood lightened some. She walked slowly, peering into each vacant cabin, touching the sides of the old canvas and ripped cloth.\n\nNarrowing his eyes, Adam entertained some radical thoughts, which quickly morphed into some strange excitement. The euphoria rose within him, to the point he desperately needed relieve himself. Sliding back out of sight, he fumbled with the front of his pants, hoping he wasn't making too much noise. Distracted, he did not hear the footsteps coming closer.\n\n\"Hi.\"\n\n\"Shit.\" Adam jerked, glancing sideways at her.\n\n\"Oh sorry.\" She put a hand to her mouth, gawking at him.\n\n\"Who the hell are you?\" Partially buzzed from the whiskey earlier, Adam wasn't quite sure if he was embarrassed to be caught relieving himself, or pleasantly disturbed.\n\n\"Don't mind me.\" The girl twirled a section of cherry red hair around a finger, keenly observing. Adam frowned harshly.\n\n\"What are you doing over here? It's off limits.\" Adam angrily spat, then grasped a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket.\n\n\"Can I bum one?\" The girl asked.\n\nScowling, Adam approached the spry adolescent, and held out a mangled box of smokes toward her. She produced a pink lighter, from a rather tight pocket. Watching her dig fingers into the fabric of skimpy little shorts was quite enthralling.\n\n\"How old are you?\"\n\nThe girl laughed as if she'd heard the question before.\n\n\"Eighteen.\"\n\n\"Your parents know where you are?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Why not?\"\n\n\"Why do you care?\"\n\nAdam strode over to the steps he sat before, and rested his foot.\n\n\"Because mommy and daddy are going to come looking for you and get my ass in trouble.\"\n\n\"My mom and step dad don't know where the fuck I am. They'll find me when I want them to. Do you work here?\"\n\nAdam took a long drag on his cigarette, staring over the girl.\n\n\"Nope.\"\n\n\"You have that logo on your sweatshirt. I seen it all over the place.\"\n\n\"So? I'm just vacationing here.\" Adam tried thinking of a convincing lie.\n\n\"Oh. This place sucks. It's so boring. There's nothing to do.\" The girl took several long puffs, blowing the smoke from her brightly painted lips. She resembled a cheap version of a 1950's pin-up model.\n\n\"Yeah. This place is cursed,\" Adam said.\n\n\"So why are you over here? If it's off limits and all.\"\n\n\"My girlfriend works here. She's off, fucking around on me.\"\n\n\"Right now?\"\n\n\"She's been cheating on me all summer.\" Adam loved the look of horror on this girl's pretty little face. Even if it was a just an act.\n\n\"What a bitch. What are you going to do?\"\n\n\"I don't know.\" Adam flicked his cigarette onto the ground. It landed a few yards away, a slight breeze teasing the residual smoke.\n\n\"You should totally cheat on her. To get back, ya know? Like screw somebody she's close to.\" The girl confidently blurted.\n\n\"Think so?\"\n\n\"I know so dude. You have to teach bitches like that a lesson. Otherwise, they keep doin' that shit.\"\n\n\"You seem pretty tough.\" Adam hoped a compliment would gain further trust.\n\n\"I am. I guess. I hafta be.\"\n\n\"Are you really 18?\"\n\nThe girl didn't like the question, it was plainly obvious.\n\n\"You look older for your age. Just wondering,\" Adam said.\n\n\"How old are you?\" The girl spat back.\n\n\"32.\" Adam fibbed a little.\n\n\"That's old.\"\n\n\"Perhaps.\"\n\n\"I'm really 15.\" She relented.\n\n\"You don't look it.\"\n\n\"So, why is your girlfriend cheating on you?\" The girl took her cigarette between two fingers, then let it drop onto the ground. She stretched downward, touching her toes. Adam couldn't help but stare, hungrily. It was the most provocative thing he'd seen all day.\n\n\"She can't handle me,\" Adam said.\n\nThe girl nodded, gazing up at the cabin before her.\n\n\"These are cool. So, like, nobody uses them?\"\n\n\"Nope. You can go inside. Supposed to be historical.\" Adam was positively giddy. This hot little number was playing a real intriguing game with him.\n\nAfter bouncing up the creaky steps, the girl spun around twice inside. She pinched her nose like a foolish teenager.\n\n\"They stink!\" She kicked some dried leaves on the floor.\n\n\"People do strange stuff in them,\" Adam said.\n\n\"So why can't your girlfriend handle you?\"\n\n\"You wouldn't understand.\" Adam played along, confident her continued badgering on the subject of cheating was just a ploy. Grabbing his crotch to give his male goods a bit of an adjustment, Adam sighed loudly to make the gesture didn't go unnoticed.\n\n\"Oh, a big boy, are ya?\" The girl licked the sides of her mouth.\n\n\"Hasn't anyone told you? It's not the size that matters.\"\n\n\"Uh-huh.\" She toyed, \"So, what, your stupid girlfriend isn't good in bed?\"\n\nAn amateur comment, but Adam was getting so turned on, he could hardly stand it.\n\n\"It's not about that.\" Adam approached. Awash in arrogance and so assured in where this game was going, he decided the time was perfect.\n\n\"Hey, what do you think you're doing?\" She smiled enthusiastically.\n\nAdam quickly tore down his fly, grabbed his appendage and displayed it proudly for her to see.\n\n\"You gonna fuck me, mister?\" She cocked her head, practically begging him.\n\n\"I was thinking about it.\" Adam grasped her shoulders. He forced off a flimsy little sweater, innocently covering her young, perky breasts. Thrusting his cock right up against her, Adam practically drooled over this pestering little whore. The girl wasted no time in grabbing him like a stick shift on a car.\n\n\"You're gonna wish you stayed with mommy and daddy,\" Adam said.\n\n\"Oh yeah? Promise?\" She teased.\n\n\"See that railing? Grab onto it.\" Adam swiveled her around, pushing them both toward the far wall of the tent.\n\n~ ~ ~\n\nGroggy, Kris opened her eyes with some distress. Her body and mind felt abnormally unresponsive. The only indication that she wasn't lost in some dream was the irregular slapping noise of the open window banging against the wall. A stiff, hot breeze tousled the curtains back and forth.\n\nKris wiped the perspiration off her brow with the back of a shaky hand.\n\nIt would make sense to wear a dress. Wouldn't it? The thick blanket of heat distorted her thoughts. Glancing blurry-eyed at her watch, she realized the hour had advanced quite a bit since laying down for a nap. Nervousness jolted her sluggish system. She'd have to really hurry to be at the meeting on time now.\n\nThirty minutes later, showered, and wide awake, Kris traveled down a narrow forest trail that lead to the amphitheater. Only a few streams of light remained from the day, casting eerie orange shadows on the ground. The meeting was due to start in fifteen minutes. It took an average of 20 minutes to reach the clearing, even at a brisk pace. Kris didn't want to make such a bold entrance. Hopefully the meeting would start late and she could sneak in.\n\nBut every time she thought of the reception she was about to receive at the bonfire, her stomach did a back flip. In her quickness and anxiety of getting ready, she'd barely noticed the increased thickened shroud of pungent smoke. It had grown much worse.\n\n~ ~ ~\n\nAdam felt the bile rising in the back of his throat.\n\n\"You should get going.\"\n\n\"Why? I don't have to be anywhere. My mom and step dad were going to dinner and are probably sitting around having drinks still. We can do that again, if you want. Like, you can do anything you want to me.\"\n\n\"You're on something.\"\n\n\"Maybe. Want some?\" The girl held out a small bag with small white pills.\n\n\"What are they?\"\n\n\"Ecstasy.\"\n\n\"Christ. Where'd you get them?\"\n\n\"My step brother's friend. Actually I took them from his drawer at home. Like, so, he's never there, and I can take whatever and he never even knows they're gone. And my mom is so stupid for, like, marrying my step dad. His kids are so messed. It's so fucking great.\"\n\nThe urge to shut this cunt up was ruling Adam's thoughts. The darkness encircled him. Every idea centered on watching bright red blood course from her, and her life end, justifiably. It would be doing this privileged brat a favor. Only then would the returning dark plague that arose from the far reaches of his mind, simmer down.\n\nFucking this tight bitch had pleased him for exactly five seconds. Her stupid noises and performance were so fake he wanted to vomit.\n\n\"I don't even know your name.\" Dressed now, the girl splayed herself on the steps of the cabin.\n\n\"And you won't,\" Adam said.\n\n\"Aww. How come? Don't you want to meet up later? I'm here for a week. You can come for a midnight visit to my cabin. Or I can sneak out and meet you here.\"\n\n\"You need to leave.\" Adam warned, hardly able to speak. Killing a tourist, even an ill behaved child, would bring an unprecedented amount of law enforcement to the area. It would overshadow his main goal.\n\n\"So. So, like, you have to get back to your girlfriend? You should so tell her you screwed me. I'd like to meet her. Will you introduce us?\"\n\n\"Get the hell outta here.\" Adam growled.\n\nLooking very dejected, the girl stood.\n\n\"Well maybe I'll come back tomorrow, okay? Will you be here?\" She started walking backwards slowly.\n\n\"No,\" Adam said.\n\n\"Well. Jeez, you're uptight. Come see me later, okay? We have a big black SUV. Well, my fake dad does. It's parked at our camp site. They won't know who you are. You can come say hi and we can go do fun things together.\"\n\n\"Don't come back here,\" Adam said, ignoring the rest of her dribble.\n\nThe girl smiled, not realizing how close she'd come to losing her life. Adam watched her turn and skip back up the row of cabins, her perky ass beckoning him to follow.\n\nCross about losing his self control to a 15 year old, Adam grabbed his backpack and started for the staff camp. It was getting late, and he still needed to find the fuel, and make an appearance at the campfire meeting. His head was pounding profusely.\n\n~ ~ ~\n\nThe clearing mysteriously crept up way too soon. Kris was not mentally prepared to face her peers while adorning a red, skimpy dress. Absent of the usual golden blaze from the campfire, a solemn atmosphere shrouded the amphitheater. Staff personnel milled around, and some stood together heavily engaged in conversation. Kris inhaled a nervous breath, but only sputtered and choked as smoke constricted her airways.\n\nPredictably, heavy gawking commenced the moment she emerged from the safe haven of thick pines. Raucous chatter emanated from bustling groups scattered around the clearing. Kris recognized a few people. She knew they didn't mean ill will in their reaction, but others most certainly likened her to a cheap attention-seeker. Eager to blend in, Kris found an empty log way in back, and dropped her bag to the ground. Her face flushed bright red.\n\n\"Oh my dear god.\" Raina flocked to Kris's side so hard and fast she practically toppled them both to the ground. \"Are you insane?\" Staring at Kris dead in the eye, speaking at a deafening level, Raina was horrified. \"There's a vicious attacker out here and you're signaling come and get me? Are you totally mad? Have you lost your scruples?\" Raina asked.\n\nKris felt the blood drain from her face and puddle into her empty stomach. Of course her mind had been focused on anything but the danger of the park attacks.\n\nFidgeting with the hem of the dress, Kris searched for a viable excuse.\n\n\"It's really hot. I woke up and just grabbed whatever. Give me a small damn break, Raina!\"\n\n\"Woke up? Well that explains why you're late. And you didn't just grab whatever.\" Raina jutted out her hands at the dress.\n\n\"Leave me alone. I'm self conscious enough. Obviously now I'm regretting the decision to wear this. I should of showed up in my usual black ninja outfit.\"\n\n\"Well ordinarily, I would tell you you look really nice and you should wear stuff like this more often. But with Adam pestering you and the park creeper on the loose, I think this is a poor wardrobe choice. It screams, come and get me.\"\n\n\"I get it. Lower your damn voice.\" Kris became overwrought with embarrassment. Everyone must think her to be an idiot of epic proportions. She tore open her backpack and yanked out a sweatshirt.\n\n\"It's not like you to go this far to get a man's attention. And by man, I mean Mr. Ranger. I doubt he has time for you now, with the search and all.\"\n\n\"That's just plain mean.\" Kris pulled the sweatshirt over her head, and threaded her arms into the soft fabric of the sleeves. Employee issued ware, it was black with a large green White Rock National Park logo on the back. Kris's full name was embroidered in small tan letters on the front.\n\n\"I'm only telling you the truth. If you're going to be this lame with a new boyfriend, someone has to slap you upside the head.\" Raina stood up. \"You've been acting like a bitch the past few days, Kris.\"\n\n\"Then blame me.\" A cavernous voice resonated from behind. Michael stepped into sight, instantly adding to Raina's disapproval.\n\n\"I gave it to her.\" He informed the short-haired spitfire.\n\nRaina's jaw dropped for a second.\n\n\"Well Kris didn't have to wear it tonight.\" Leveling a disapproving stare before stomping off, Raina hardly glanced at Michael.\n\nKris painfully watched her go, torn whether or not to traipse after her best friend. But she felt glued to the log, not wanting to bring forth anymore unwanted attention.\n\nMichael slowly sat down next to Kris.\n\n\"You have a feisty friend there.\" He placed a hand on her thigh.\n\n\"I would normally say Raina is just looking out for me, but right now I'm too pissed and really want to leave.\" Kris stared at the ground, avoiding eye contact.\n\nMichael reached around her lower back. \"You didn't have to wear the dress tonight. That wasn't my intention.\"\n\n\"Fine, have a nice meeting.\" Kris attempted to stand quickly, but pressure on her hip from Michael's hand brought her squarely back down.\n\n\"You're not going anywhere.\"\n\n\"I think you should leave me alone right now.\" Kris nervously glanced around, hoping no one was watching.\n\n\"What I meant to say is, it's going to be a rather difficult task concentrating on serious issues up there.\" He nodded toward the podium. \"I'd much rather take you back to my place.\"\n\n\"Maybe Raina is right.\" Kris ignored him.\n\n\"Actually I don't think I can wait to get you back to my place. Yours is closer.\"\n\n\"Don't you have a meeting to start?\"\n\n\"I'm waiting on Beth to get out here.\" Michael teased the fabric of her dress.\n\n\"I'm sorry, I haven't thanked you. I would thank you, but I'm pissed,\" Kris said.\n\nMichael moved his hand to the top of her leg.\n\n\"Well you can be pissed.\" Michael was heavily turned on at her staged discontent.\n\n\"You aren't taking me seriously.\"\n\n\"Perhaps.\" Michael smiled. \"Your friend is just looking out for you.\"\n\n\"What if I'm pissed at you?\"\n\n\"That's fine.\"\n\n\"Really?\"\n\n\"You have every right.\"\n\n\"Any news on Terri?\" Kris sighed, changing the subject. She didn't understand his amusement at her foul mood.\n\n\"No we haven't located her. The fire in the high country is getting worse. Search and rescue is scaling back. Damn idiots.\"\n\n\"Shit, what the hell else is going to happen? Bad things come in threes, right?\"\n\n\"I'm not a big believer in spooky stuff like that. Just try and relax. Don't go anywhere. Okay?\" Placing his finger under her chin, he slowly turned her to face him. \"Okay?\"\n\nKris reluctantly nodded. Testing the waters of disobedience with Michael probably wasn't the smartest idea.\n\n\"I'll find you after the meeting.\" Michael leaned in, gently kissing her. Frozen at the uncharacteristic act of affection in public view, Kris could barely return the embrace. Michael stood, gazing down at her with great concern, keen on the fact that she was mightily confused and very wary.\n\nKris slumped in her seat watching him walk away. Threading her fingers together in her lap, Kris fought to ignore the probing eyes of onlookers. Apparently keeping their connection concealed was no longer a priority for Michael.\n\n~ ~ ~\n\n\"I need to speak with you, after this is over.\" Beth Taylor mouthed sharply, brushing past Michael. A dry breeze tousled her fiery auburn hair. She paused, slapping a folder of papers against her leg, demanding he acknowledge her.\n\nMichael bore his eyes at the flagrant administrator. He was prepared for the fallout of kissing Kris moments ago. But knowing Beth, she would bide her time until they were alone. She swept her eyes over him dismissively, and then spit out another pronged directive.\n\n\"Get this damn thing started. I want it over now.\"\n\nMichael strode past, brushing off Beth's thorny attitude. What a betrayal it must be for the wench. A revelation and bitter taste of reality for her to witness his affection for someone else. The shameful behavior she had displayed earlier in the season in a concerted attempt to retain his attention, was now contorted into bursts of anger. Late hours of the night Beth would knock at his door, draped in tight fitting blouses or shorts that left nothing to the imagination. It was commonplace for her to call him out of the field with urgency, into her office, like a sad test of loyalty. Michael was void of respect for the whore, but unfortunately she was the boss. An inept and inexperienced choice for the head of White Rock. Her failure to lead and manage daily ongoings of the place was so painfully apparent, Michael was unwaveringly convinced she'd acquired the position by screwing her way to the top. Perhaps those who she consorted with became as disgruntled as Michael was now. Perhaps she was pushed off to other positions because others needed to untangle themselves from the needy witch.\n\nBut it wasn't the first time a female in a position of power over him behaved so unprofessionally and egregiously. If he didn't loose his job after tonight, he'd quit soon enough.\n\nThey weren't going to find this missing girl. Incompetence surrounded the search, which put Beth at the center of blame. Plus, he felt the perpetrator was getting better at covering his tracks.\n\n\"And Falkenrath?\"\n\nMichael turned from his approach onto the podium.\n\n\"I don't want to hear any deviation from what's on that sheet.\" She pointed to a rumpled piece of paper in his hand. \"These degenerates don't need a silly debriefing coming out of your mouth.\"\n\nMichael stalled. Well aware of the official statements he was supposed to make, which were vague and superfluous crap, Beth's little abrasive reminder was far from necessary. Defiance rose fast within him. He descended back towards her with an icy stare.\n\n\"I suggest you turn around and get this meeting started right now. That is if you still want a job tomorrow morning,\" she said.\n\n\"I am not the one that should be worried about my job.\" Michael spoke low and harsh, \"Still want to see me afterward?\"\n\nBeth brushed her wiry brown-red hair over a shoulder, eying the crowd of misfits, and checking to see if anyone noticed the tense relations taking place.\n\n\"Stop wasting time.\"\n\n\"That's a funny thing to say.\"\n\n\"Oh? And why is that?\" Beth said through tightly clenched teeth.\n\n\"You seem to have all the time in the world to come knocking on my door.\" Michael reminded her.\n\nBeth's mouth dropped open slightly. But she wasn't ready to retreat.\n\n\"Quite right. However it was mutual if I recall, and if you'd like to talk about wasting time, I suggest we take a look at your little escapades with the blond bimbo.\" Beth turned bright red in the face. \"That's against park policies and you're going to be fired for it.\"\n\nUnder any other circumstances, Michael would have throttled her for calling Kris a bimbo. He knew it was a ploy to provoke and rattle him, but he ignored the jab for the moment.\n\n\"You're not going to fire me. Not for breaking some vague park policy. Not when I have an exemplary record. So Beth, I'd like to apprise you of something a little more damning on your behalf.\" Fully off the podium now, and half hidden by dark shadows, Michael's disgust had reached a tipping point.\n\n\"Let's not air our dirty laundry right now. It can wait until later,\" Beth said.\n\n\"No. I'm not meeting with you later. I'm going to make a call to Darren Thorne in Washington. Then I'm going to file papers against you for sexual harassment. And before you open your fat lips again, I'm sure I don't have to remind you that I'm not the only staff you've been fucking for purposes of manipulation.\" Smiling with an evil force, Michael nodded and returned to the podium.\n\n\"And, one more thing. I so much as get a rumor that you've gone after Kris Bay, you'll wish you never met me.\"\n\n\"That's a threat. You can't threaten me. How dare you!\" Beth's eyes were about to pop from her head. \"This isn't over You are way out of line.\" Face burning red, she twisted around and stomped out of sight.\n\nBeth stormed past other rangers and staff hanging off to the side. Some were shocked but others pleasantly entertained by the showdown. Beth promptly removed herself from the spotlight and faded off into the dark shroud of pine saplings and thick foliage. Her thoughts were disjointed and emotionally charged. If Michael wanted to play around with the little Norwegian bitch, that was fine and dandy. But he could not get away with diminishing her authority and threatening her in front of employees.\n\n\"What's up boss lady?\"\n\nBeth let out a little screech as a short, stocky ranger paused to greet her in the dark.\n\n\"You should be at the meeting,\" she said.\n\n\"I know I'm a little late. But -\"\n\n\"Try to be on time. We set the example, remember that.\" Beth hurried off, not interested in the park dispatcher's excuse.\n\n\"Bitch.\" Damon muttered and continued on.\n\n~ ~ ~\n\n\"You have an admirer.\" Raina returned, plopping down firmly against Kris.\n\n\"I don't want to know,\" Kris said.\n\n\"Well he's over there.\" Raina pointed toward the far end of the amphitheater. At first Kris saw nothing except trees and dark forest. But then she realized Adam was leaning casually against a Lodgepole Pine, staring directly at her.\n\n\"Creeper. I wonder why he's here.\" Kris mouthed slowly. \"He never attends these things.\"\n\n\"He's spyin' on ya.\" Randy appeared out of thin air.\n\n\"Hey woodchuck, what's up?\" Raina slapped her hand against his in a high-five gesture.\n\n\"Nuthin' sweetheart. Sorry I'm super late. What's going on?\"\n\n\"Total crap. You missed a fight between the Ranger and Beth Taylor. It was a doosie. I was waiting to see who was gonna throw the first punch.\"\n\n\"Jeez Raina.\" Kris tried to shush her.\n\n\"I'm not surprised. It makes sense,\" Randy said.\n\n\"What makes sense?\" Raina asked.\n\n\"Lover's quarrel.\" Randy poured some trail mix into his mouth.\n\n\"Between them two? Well, there's rumors all over the park he's bopping her.\" Raina grabbed some of Randy's snack mix.\n\n\"You guys sound like you're still in high school. And it's just rumors.\" Kris grew cross.\n\n\"No, I know Beth goes over to Michael's place. Travis lives across from him. He's told me plenty. Sees her leaving at like 3 in the morning,\" Randy said.\n\n\"Figures.\" It was old news to Raina but she knew it would be tough for Kris to swallow.\n\n\"I don't believe any of it. Travis is too busy getting high at that hour. Or drunk.\" Kris gazed at Michael on the podium.\n\n\"Travis doesn't get high or drunk that late at night. And even if he was bombed, he would be so passed out nothing would disturb him. He has no reason to make this crap up. I think it's quite possible Beth has a thing going on with the Ranger.\" Randy lowered his voice, realizing this information was quite unnerving for Kris to hear.\n\n\"I told you Kris. This guy is no good,\" Raina said.\n\n\"I wish everyone would just shut up,\" Kris said dryly.\n\n\"Well has he mentioned it?\"\n\n\"Oh yeah, all the time.\" Kris flashed Raina a nasty look.\n\n\"Okay, wait, maybe not the best topic right now.\" Randy threw a peanut at Raina.\n\n\"Maybe he's using Kris to get back at Beth?\" Raina could not let the issue rest.\n\n\"Raina – please!\" Kris was getting highly agitated.\n\n\"Does he seem like that kind of person?\" Randy rubbed his chin.\n\n\"I'm not going to talk about this any further,\" Kris said.\n\n\"We just care about you. We don't want to you get hurt. Again.\" Raina hugged Kris from the side.\n\n\"I realize that. It's really bad timing right now.\" Kris knew there was nothing she could say to Raina or Randy that would end the suspicion of Michael sleeping around. This gossip came up way too often.\n\nBut was it possible? Kris had to assume it was without real evidence. And even if she approached Michael about it, he could just tell her what she wanted to hear. The truth was elusive.\n\n\"What are you going to do?\" Randy asked.\n\n\"You know, I don't care right now. Apparently I'm a target wearing a dress. Terri is still missing and this smoke has me feeling like shit. I don't know what I'm going to do, Randy,\" Kris said.\n\n\"We're just trying to help.\" Raina got up and wandered off.\n\nRandy put his arm around Kris and squeezed her momentarily before going back to his snack.\n\n\"Sorry to bring all that up. You know how it is here.\"\n\n\"I know. I fucking know.\" Kris rubbed her eyes and hoped this meeting would soon be over. \"The gossip never ends. I'm sure it's still being circulated that Adam and I are together.\"\n\n\"Oh, by the way I heard that. Yup. You and Adam.\" Randy cocked his head and smiled.\n\n~ ~ ~\n\n\"So try and travel in pairs, and carry something for self defense,\" Michael said.\n\n\"How come you can't find her?!\" A tall lanky kid stood up angrily waving his hands in the air.\n\nMichael knew he was expected to show restraint in answering but he was more inclined to tell the truth.\n\n\"As you know we have search and rescue checking every known location for Ms. White. All viable leads are checked out.\"\n\n\"A lot good they're doing. How come there's no helicopters or dogs?\"\n\n\"Simon, is it?\" Michael recognized the hot headed kid. \"We had a helicopter and several cadaver dogs. Unfortunately they have been called off.\"\n\nA sea of gasps and expletives resounded from the gathering.\n\nSeveral people stood, yelling and talking over each other. \"Cadaver dogs? Is she presumed dead then? Why do you need those?\"\n\nMichael hesitated, looking down at his notes. He was not authorized to give out any further details. Beth could fire him instantaneously and she would have good cause.\n\n\"The dogs are just standard procedure. The backcountry fires are preventing us from narrowing down where she went missing.\" Michael's voice grew loud.\n\n\"Who the hell called off the helicopter and dogs?\" Another voice boomed.\n\nThe person responsible for canceling out the dogs and helicopter felt they weren't necessary and too costly. Oh how he longed to blurt the whore's name, Beth, but it would fracture the integrity of the entire park. Everything was speeding out of control and the person at the helm had to retain some amount of measurable control. As much as he hated Beth as captain of the ship, there was too much at stake to reveal her incompetence now.\n\n\"You deserve to know, I agree. But this investigation is ongoing and it could become compromised if too much information is released at this time.\"\n\nAmidst the chatter and raised voices, Michael tried to answer more heated questions. Finally he smacked the microphone loudly, producing an ear piercing crash.\n\n\"Please. I need to wrap this up. It's late and we all need to work tomorrow. If anyone knows anything, even something you think is inconsequential, please come to me or any of my colleagues. We are placing a bulletin board near the roundabout tomorrow. Please check it for updates and notifications of new meetings.\" Michael gestured to the row of other rangers who had now united behind him at the podium.\n\nSlowly, people started to get quiet and shushed others to quit talking.\n\n\"This investigation is not my only duty here. Yes, we are short staffed. Everyone please work together and be careful so one of you doesn't become the next victim.\" Michael's voice grew raspy.\n\n\"Why isn't more security brought in?\" Simon Trader spoke once again.\n\nMichael stared down at his tattered notes and then back out at the worried faces.\n\n\"We're trying to pull some more officers in from other locations. Due to budget constraints, it's unlikely we will get extra personnel.\" He lied. Beth didn't want her reputation tarnished, especially when dealing with a crime ravaged park, so she wanted everything handled within. No outside security, no desperate calls for extra support from the head office in Washington, and definitely no reports leaked to the media, which would only stir the pot and keep tourists away.\n\n\"He's lying.\"\n\nKris cringed instantly at hearing Adam's voice. He finally came forward from his shrouded hiding spot within the trees. Stillness gripped the clearing. Many people twisted around to see who had blurted this accusation.\n\n\"Good of you to join us Mr. Hoth. I'm sorry you feel the need to accuse me of being a liar. I would encourage you to listen to the facts, they will most certainly lead you to what I just explained.\" Michael spoke out sternly.\n\n\"And what was that, again?\"Adam asked.\n\n\"That we are trying to pull in extra help, but it is costly and not available. That doesn't mean it won't happen, but it could take time.\" Michael motioned to the others behind him and then spoke quickly for the last time.\n\n\"This meeting is over. Any further questions or concerns, please look at the bulletin board tomorrow or you can visit headquarters during daylight hours. Thank you.\" He quickly flicked off the microphone and stepped away from the podium.\n\nPeople started dispersing immediately. Michael quickly briefed his lower command.\n\nThe lies were tearing at his stomach. The back of his neck was so hot, he had to reach back to touch it, making sure it wasn't on fire. His only thought now was to stop Kris from running off alone in that damn red dress.\n\n~ ~ ~\n\n\"Need an accompaniment?\"\n\n\"Go away Adam.\" Kris knew he'd come over to pester her soon or later.\n\n\"Are you off with him tonight?\" Adam made it a point to glare in Michael's direction who was still speaking to co-workers.\n\n\"What the hell have you been doing? You smell awful.\" Kris bit at him, her mood becoming further soured.\n\nAdam chuckled as if her remarks were just fun and games.\n\n\"I needed a long walk. Ask your boyfriend.\" Adam pulled a water bottle from his pack and slowly screwed off the top.\n\n\"Did you walk into a lake of gasoline? What does Michael have to do with it?\"\n\nAfter taking a drink from the bottle, Adam sighed heavily and offered the water to Kris. She immediately pushed it away.\n\n\"We had a nice long chat in the forest,\" Adam said.\n\n\"About what?\" Kris grew fiery.\n\n\"You of course.\"\n\n\"Right. Like I should believe that. You accuse Michael of lying, and then slither over here to spew a bunch of lies at me? Get lost. Get out of here. I want nothing to do with you.\"\n\n\"Kris, one of these days it will finally it hit you. I'm not going anywhere.\"\n\n\"Then I'm going to scream.\" Kris grabbed her things, looking around for Randy or Raina, who mysteriously disappeared the second Adam emerged.\n\n\"Go ahead and scream. Scream, honey, scream.\" Adam taunted. \"Tell me, Kris,\" he licked his lips, \"do you scream for him? When he fucks you, do you scream out? Maybe at the sight of his big ranger dick?\"\n\n\"You're the nastiest person I know.\" Kris backed up into a log. Nearly falling, she caught herself and climbed over.\n\n\"Yes, but you love that about me.\"\n\n\"I hope you die. I hope whoever is out there killing people, finds you next and slashes your throat.\" Quickly, anger turned into sad frustration. Tears welled up in her bloodshot eyes. Adam contained a look of smug satisfaction. He'd won this round with her. Clearly she was unraveling, and all his hard work was paying off.\n\n\"I'm not a female, sadly, so I have nothing to be worried about,\" Adam said.\n\nKris gazed heavily at him. Confused at such an odd statement, her brain grew fuzzy. It was time to leave and get the hell back to camp before she and Adam were the last ones remaining.\n\nKris hurriedly walked off toward the upper trail. It would be a much longer path home, but being a wider and more heavily used trail, Adam probably wouldn't follow.\n\n\"Adam you are a pig. Why'd you run her off like that?\" Raina strode up, watching a flash of red disappear into darkness. \"I don't know if I should be pissed with you or happy.\"\n\n\"Why happy?\" Adam snorted. He wondered if he could make it back to Kris's place before that idiot park rogue did.\n\n\"Apparently you and I agree on one thing.\"\n\n\"I doubt it,\" Adam said.\n\n\"That Ranger is a liar and no good for Kris. I don't trust him,\" Raina said.\n\n\"Yeah, so?\"\n\n\"I'm not saying you should get back together with her. Understand me? You guys aren't good for each other. But Adam, if any real part of you still honestly cares about her, then you must agree she has to get away from that dude. Right?\"\n\n\"I guess.\" Adam stared at her blankly.\n\nRaina blew a huge bubble, snapping it quickly.\n\n\"Shit you smell horrible. Why don't you take a damn shower or something.\" Raina pinched her nose. Adam grabbed onto her arm before she could run off.\n\n\"Hey!\"\n\n\"Why do you think I'm always following her? I'm concerned. I know we aren't getting back together.\" Adam gritted his rear teeth so hard he could practically taste the enamel.\n\n\"Let go of me.\" Narrowing her eyes, suspicion filled Raina's usual spunky demeanor. She took a few steps away from him.\n\n\"You're right, you're right, I need a shower. I was having a barbecue and got lighter fluid all over myself.\" Adam tried to lighten up.\n\n\"Whatever.\" Raina was poised to take off, having enough of Adam for one evening. She just hoped he would leave Kris alone and not trod off after her.\n\n\"Why don't we get a drink later?\"\n\n\"No thanks,\" Raina said.\n\n\"Come on.\"\n\n\"No!\"\n\n\"We can figure out how to keep Kris from the Ranger. I need your help Raina.\"\n\n\"Okay, fine.\" Raina ran her fingers through her short hair. \"I need to go. For now.\"\n\n\"I'll see you back at camp,\" he said.\n\n\"Whatever. Bye. I'm outta here.\" Raina hoped she could weasel out of her promise to have a drink later. Raina knew better than to accept Adam's request, but she figured at least it would occupy him from harassing Kris. Physically and mentally tired, Raina decided she could manage to throw back one drink and make an excuse to leave. She did not want to conspire at length with him.\n\nAdam grabbed a handful of fabric, bringing it to his nostrils. He only smelled smokiness. Perhaps a hint of gasoline. Both girls were just giving him a hard time, he decided.\n\nAdam had made a hasty return to the gulch before the meeting. He had dumped a small canister of propane on her, lit it on fire and then fled the area. Hopefully there wasn't much left of her by this point.\n\nWith the administration pulling people off the search, odds of Terri's remains being discovered were infinitesimal. Adam chucked to himself. He was smarter than all of those bastards. Not even that fraud commando Ranger would figure out what he'd done. Adam had fooled them all. Excited in his revelations, and prickled with excitement, he coughed loudly and grabbed a cigarette from the band of his hat. These saps can't even control a wildfire, which seemed much worse now than when he walked up this filthy path just an hour ago.\n\nAdam swore violently along his way, stopping only to light his cigarette.\n\nUsually the thought of spending time with Raina was revolting, but she was easy to inebriate. Raina was distinguished as the next biggest lush in camp, aside from Terri. People would believe anything and nobody would really miss her. Well, except Kris.\nChapter Eighteen\n\nConfrontation\n\nAfter fifteen minutes of stumbling the rocky high trail to camp, Kris hesitantly reversed her direction back toward the amphitheater. She assumed Michael was still there. Instead of running away from the problem and ignoring the possibility that Michael was deceiving her, she wanted to sort out the truth once and for all. It needed to happen tonight. Her nerves could not stay in limbo any longer. Kris quickened her pace in the dark, awake to the sharp possibility of an impending intrusion by the mysterious assailant.\n\nConfronting Michael meant the risk of severing the short term trust that had accumulated. His reaction to her inquiry could be rather harsh. She didn't care. Kris lacked confidence in him at this point. There had not been enough time passed in getting to know each other on a deeper level. At the very least he owed her an explanation regarding the strange exchange with Beth at the meeting.\n\nKris came to a lingering stop. Airways tightening, she sputtered and tried to cough in an effort to expel heavy matter irritating her lungs. Smooth boulders alongside the trail beckoned her to rest so she sat for a moment.\n\nPerhaps in the grand scheme of things the situation mattered very little. If Kris was serious about leaving the park she had to assume the little love affair between her and Michael would eventually come to an end anyway. Her relations with Raina, Adam, and many others at White Rock, had formed for many years unlike her connection with Michael. She knew her friends fairly well.\n\nA heavy haze settled upon her. Many troubling questions bounced around which just ignited further irrational thoughts. She was too malleable by hearsay and rumors. Kris was afraid of what was happening right under her nose. If Raina and Randy were misinformed about Michael, would they keep searching for another damning piece of information to dissuade her?\n\n\"They've never trusted outsiders.\" Kris grumbled out loud.\n\n\"And I'm the outsider.\" A deep voice responded.\n\nShrieking, Kris flew off the rock, backward into a small tree.\n\n\"What is it with you and trees?\" Michael quickly came to her aid.\n\nHardly able to speak, Kris's heart slammed fast and furious inside her chest.\n\n\"Whoa now,\" Michael said, pulling her in close.\n\n\"What are you doing here?\" Kris stared wide eyed up at him.\n\n\"I should ask you the same. In fact I should be quite mad. There's a dangerous predator roaming around these woods and you're strolling out here alone. Again.\"\n\nMichael seemed genuinely upset at her. Kris tried pushing back but he wouldn't let go.\n\n\"Yeah well most of it is your fault.\"\n\n\"Oh?\" Michael did not sound amused.\n\nTrying to catch her breath, Kris stalled in response. The smoke was so thick and foul.\n\n\"Just tell me something -\" Kris pushed against his chest one more time and Michael finally let go.\n\n\"Kris, I-\"\n\n\"No, don't interrupt me. I need to say this.\"\n\nMichael grabbed his radio and switched off the power.\n\n\"Okay you have my attention,\" Michael said.\n\n\"There's a lot of rumors. I really don't know what to believe. It's led me to think all sorts of things. We aren't committed to each other I suppose, so you're free to be with anyone. Maybe you have pursued me only for -\"\n\n\"Fucking?\" Michael interrupted off handedly. The second the awful word escaped him, he regretted it.\n\nKris felt like a hornet had just stung her. Fucking?!\n\n\"Okay. So I guess you just cleared that up. Thank you for enlightening me.\"\n\n\"That came out wrong.\"\n\n\"So my next question is, how long are you going to keep screwing around with me? Are we done?\" Kris felt hot anger gripping her.\n\n\"What are you talking about?\" Michael asked.\n\n\"Oh don't pretend. I know how this goes. Not like I haven't been through it before.\"\n\n\"Can you be specific? What rumors?\"\n\n\"Beth. You and Beth. I mean, from the information I have, it sounds like you aren't even trying to be careful. Or perhaps that's the whole point. You can play with anyone you want?\" Kris's throat began constricting. In a moment her eyes would shed tears and she was much too angry to let him see her reduced to weakness.\n\nMichael looked down at the ground for a moment then straightened himself. Removing his hat he rubbed the brim as if it was essential in collecting his thoughts. He did not speak right away.\n\n\"If you have nothing to say, I'll be going.\" Kris grabbed her pack.\n\n\"Let me know if you want to hear my side.\" Michael remained still.\n\n\"What the hell does that mean?\" Kris spun back.\n\n\"I don't suppose I get the chance to straighten out the rumors you are so quick to latch onto.\"\n\n\"These are my friends. They have my back. I hardly know you.\" Kris fought to keep her voice strong.\n\n\"Yes, they are your friends. But there is a great deal of distortion going around.\"\n\n\"Are you or aren't you screwing that red haired bitch?\"\n\n\"I am not. Not now.\"\n\n\"She goes to your place at three o'clock in the morning, dressed like a cheap hooker.\" Kris tried to remind him.\n\nMichael's eyes narrowed. \"Yes.\"\n\n\"Yes?\"\n\n\"Beth does everything she can to gain my affections. Never has she been invited to my place, she just shows up of her own accord. Three in the morning seems to be her favorite hour to come harass me. And she is never quiet about it.\"\n\n\"Oh.\" Kris felt ashamed to admit her information came from historically unreliable people. But, how could she know if he was telling the truth?\n\n\"I'm a bit surprised to hear all this from you,\" Michael said.\n\n\"Don't flip this around onto me,\" Kris said.\n\nMichael quickly put his thumb to her lips.\n\n\"Let me finish. You want an explanation and I'll give you one. But let's get the hell out of here.\" Micheal took her pack and threaded his strong hand into hers. \"Come.\"\n\nKris reluctantly cooperated. After walking in silence for some distance, they reached the bridge crossing over the Kwoluck River.\n\n\"Wait, Michael, if we go this way, through the southeast shelf, we can circle back to my cabin.\" Kris motioned off to the right.\n\n\"That's pretty close to the ravine, isn't it?\"\n\n\"Sorta. But I've done it many times. Don't you have a flashlight or something?\"\n\n\"Well I was going to see if the store was still open so we could discuss matters over coffee. You know, like civilized people? Instead of traipsing all over this park.\" Michael leaned against the wood railing of the bridge.\n\nNot far below, the river rushed over smooth granite boulders. Eerie moonlight cast an orange glow and highlighted the fast moving water. If they crossed the bridge and headed into the main part of Willow Camp, it would be a long walk back to the cabins. They could take a short cut by avoiding the bridge and hiking along the edge of the canyon. It was unlikely the small coffee shop would be open at this hour anyway. Kris grew more irritated with the situation.\n\n\"You knew about Terri missing the other night?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Why didn't you tell me?\" Kris grabbed the railing staring down at the water. \"I mean you could of interrogated me like everyone else.\"\n\n\"Yes, I could of.\"\n\n\"Why didn't you say anything?\"\n\n\"I only heard bits and pieces of her disappearance over the park radio system. I did not know your relationship to her. Very few details were coming out. What I should of anticipated, is how fast news travels around this park.\"\n\n\"Right.\" Kris rubbed her eyes.\n\n\"I regret not telling you right away. I am sorry. We didn't know if foul play was involved, so I suppose it wasn't my first priority. Apparently this girl takes off quite a bit.\"\n\n\"Yeah. Yeah she does.\"\n\n\"But you're not really angry at me because of Terri.\"\n\n\"Oh? I'm not huh?\" Kris straightened up.\n\n\"No. I did not fully address the rumors regarding my liaisons with Beth, now did I?\"\n\n\"You said before on the trail, you weren't screwing her.\" Kris grabbed her hips in defiance.\n\n\"Not anymore.\"\n\n\"Wait. Wait, wait. I get it. Oh I love this game.\" Kris paced down the rounded side of the bridge.\n\n\"It was before I met you.\" Michael knew his words sliced into her like a hot knife.\n\nKris closed her eyes for a moment. The darkness seemed to penetrate her mind, and oddly provided a nice stillness.\n\n\"Very stupid on my part,\" Michael said.\n\n\"Yeah, and now you'll say, it didn't mean anything. It was just sex. A mistake. Just a few slips. Except, when girls like me hear this sort of thing, we have a real hard time imagining why or how guys like you could go for someone so cheap and fake and then pursue someone who is the complete opposite. Like me.\" Kris swallowed hard. \"And don't say, men suck. Or that it's a guy thing. That's such a bunch of bull shit.\"\n\n\"I could tell you that she threw herself at me. And being weak, I indulged. Or I could say, she's using her position of power as my boss to seduce me. Or I could just state the fact that I didn't have a good reason for fucking her. I still know really know why. I guess it's hardwired in my thick skull that I don't deserve a nice girl like you.\"\n\n\"So, that justifies sticking your dick into whatever piece of trash that comes along?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Let me take a guess here. Beth wanted more than just a quick roll in the sheets? She got mad when you refused to keep indulging her, and now she's super jealous. Especially when you kiss your new girlfriend in front of everyone.\"\n\n\"Sheets were never involved,\" he said.\n\n\"No? Then maybe her office? Desk? Floor? That lovely seat near the window? I've been to Beth's office before. It's rather nice.\"\n\n\"Desk,\" Michael said.\n\n\"Remind me never to go to her office again.\" Kris heavily breathed out.\n\n\"Were you just using me then? To get back at her? Or to force her away or something?\" Kris met his patient gaze.\n\n\"Absolutely not.\"\n\n\"You sure?\"\n\n\"Positive.\" Michael came up behind, slowly sliding his arms around her.\n\n\"Yeah, I slept with her. And I've been with other women too. Just like you've been with other men. How important is all of it?\"\n\n\"I'm getting tired of talking about this.\" Kris touched his hand. Mostly she didn't want to hear that their situations were equal. It still stung that he had sex with Beth, even if it was before she and Michael ever met.\n\nHe kissed her ear and then spoke in a low voice.\n\n\"These rumors you come across. Next time please bring them to me a bit sooner. Instead of letting them marinate with you and your friends. At least hear my side. You can decide what to believe after that.\"\n\n\"I'll try. No promises,\" Kris said.\n\n\"Is that it, or is there more? Is there other stuff we need to talk about?\" Michael cinched his arms around tighter.\n\n\"What if I told you I'm thinking of leaving the park when the season ends?\" Kris hardly thought before the words came out of her mouth.\n\n\"Funny. I was entertaining the same idea.\"\n\n\"You were thinking of leaving?\" Kris didn't consider the like mindedness on this issue. But it made sense. Individually they both had reasons for vacating employment at the park.\n\n\"They hired me for show, no other reason. I can't sit by as a pretty boy while grave mistakes are being made.\"\n\n\"Where would you go?\" Kris asked.\n\n\"I have a few ideas. There's some options available to me. What about you?\"\n\n\"I dunno. I have a car and a storage locker in Matherville full of junk. I could find a job and apartment I guess. Live a normal life.\" Kris was waiting for a hint from him that indicated they might both still see each other.\n\nMichael released her from his embrace. He twisted the dial on the radio up, half listening to voices crackling.\n\n\"You know we do share something in common.\" He rested a hand on his firearm out of habit.\n\n\"Oh? Just one thing?\"\n\n\"You've involved yourself with people that are no good for you. I have done so as well.\" Michael was impatient now. The hour grew late and he longed to get Kris back to her cabin. \"I warned you.\"\n\nFrowning, Kris looked over at him. \"Of what?\"\n\n\"I'm an abrasive person.\" He smiled.\n\nKris tapped the wooden boards of the bridge with her toe.\n\n\"Well don't remind me anymore. If you haven't figured it out by now, I tend to spend a lot of time with dumb-ass men.\" Kris flatly pointed out.\n\n\"The thought of you out here alone, wearing that dress...\" His voice trailed off, hand touching her side.\n\n\"If I recall, you're the one who gave it to me.\"\n\n\"I did, didn't I? Perhaps I meant for you to wear it when we're both together.\"\n\n\"We're together now.\" She admitted softly.\n\n\"You have a point.\"\n\nMichael kissed the top of her head, somewhat distracted.\n\n\"Can I escort you home now? I'm still on duty. I need to appear to be doing my job.\"\n\n\"Sorry. Yes, let's go.\" Kris grabbed his wrist, pulling him over the bridge. The short cut along the river could wait until another day\nChapter Nineteen\n\nRaina splashed cold water to her face. Then, running her wet hands through her short black hair, she heard the familiar metal creek of the bathroom door. With the water still trickling from the faucet, she bent down and grabbed a flashlight from her bag.\n\n\"Who's there?\"\n\nRaina tried again. \"Hey!\" she called out switching on her light. She twisted off the faucet. It was late and probably past midnight. Being so bothered by smoke and heat, Raina had taken a detour after the meeting to freshen up before bed. She was hoping Adam forgot about having that drink.\n\nOn a typical summer night the staff shower building conformed to a weird type of hang out. People fussed around, showered, shaved, guys teased females, and everyone pretty much let off tension from a long day at work. Many would also sit leisurely on the steps outside drinking a beer or two.\n\nRaina was surprised tonight, finding the old building to be strangely desolate. Nervous now, she zipped up her bag and tried to keep the light beam down the corridor that led to the exterior doors. Perhaps the visitor entered but turned into the mens' side.\n\n\"Hello?\" Raina called out once more.\n\nSlowly the dark figure emerged from the shadows of the entranceway.\n\n\"Oh hell, it's you.\" Raina gasped, then clicked off her light, \"Jeez, you creeped me out for a second Adam.\" Relieved to see a familiar face, Raina gathered her things and headed for the doors. \"A bit late, ain't it?\"\n\n\"Maybe for some,\" Adam said.\n\nUncomfortable, Raina quickly went outside, but then realized she'd forgotten her shoes.\n\n\"Shit!\"\n\n\"What's wrong?\" Adam leaned against the entrance doorway.\n\n\"I think my shoes are inside.\" Typically she tossed her shoes right inside the front.\n\n\"I didn't see anything in there.\"\n\nRaina put a hand to her hip, standing two steps below him.\n\n\"Well, they are probably in the shower. 'Scuse me.\" Raina grew impatient.\n\nAdam moved slightly to the side barely letting her pass. He muttered something unintelligible, then let out a long sigh.\n\nRaina quickly tiptoed back around the sink area and then the shower stall. Puddles of water were everywhere but her sandals remained absent.\n\n\"What the hell?\" She harshly whispered. She looked in each of the other stalls. Nothing. Maybe she was mistaken and put them in her bag. Back outside, she breathed a sigh of relief in failing to catch sight of Adam. But soon she saw the tiny glow of a cigarette much further down the stone steps. He had perched himself near the path that lead back to camp. Frantically rummaging through her overstuffed pink canvas bag, her hands grew jittery.\n\n\"Can't find 'em?\" Adam blew out a long trail of smoke.\n\nRaina wiped her brow with the back of her hand. Being annoyed was an understatement. Walking back to the cabins in bare feet, over sharp rocks and debris, was going to be slow going and painful.\n\n\"No.\" She zipped her bag shut. \"You wouldn't have a spare pair of shoes or somethin'?\" Raina swung the bag over her shoulder, and carefully plodded down the steps. She grabbed the wood railing to steady herself in the dark.\n\nAdam only chuckled.\n\n\"Got another one of those?\" Raina eyed his smoke.\n\nAdam fished into his front pocket for a flattened pack of cigarettes. Sliding one out, he offered it to her.\n\n\"Thanks.\" Raina grabbed the smoke stick and leaned in while he lit it. Taking a long drag, she glanced ahead at the ground.\n\n\"Fuck it.\"\n\n\"Oh it's not that bad. You're tough, aren't you Raina?\"\n\n\"Sure. Whatever. Let's go.\"\n\nRaina gingerly started walking. Half her thoughts were centered on returning in the morning before work to look more thoroughly for her missing shoes. She recalled the odd stories from Kris about Adam stealing underwear and bras then wearing them to satisfy some demented fantasy. Kris said he would tug down the side of his pants, giving her a flash of some thong he'd taken from her cabin. Raina thought hard. Why would Adam take her shoes? And why tonight?\n\n\"I've been thinking about what you said, at the meeting.\"\n\n\"Yeah, what about?\" Raina asked. At least talking to him was a distraction from her missing shoes.\n\n\"We should work together to get Kris away from the Ranger.\"\n\n\"Uhm...\" Raina rubbed her temples. \"That wasn't exactly what I was meaning.\"\n\n\"Well, what were you implying then?\"\n\n\"I wasn't implying anything. I don't know, Adam. Why can't you get anything straight? I only said we both agree she shouldn't be seeing that guy.\"\n\n\"What can we do about it?\"\n\n\"Kris is stubborn as hell and that ranger is some sort of paratrooper. He probably has night vision cameras positioned all over the forest. Don't ask me what to do about it. I'm her best friend, and we're on shaky ground lately.\"\n\n\"I don't think they'll last much longer,\" Adam said, tossing his expired cigarette onto the trail.\n\n\"What are you, a fortune teller?\"\n\n\"No, but Kris isn't happy.\"\n\n\"Oh, and let me guess, you are the only person in the world that can make her happy?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"That's pretty fucking arrogant.\" Raina laughed hard, thinking he was joking in some weird way.\n\nStepping so carefully was taking forever along the uneven trail. Raina tried to speed up, but sharp little pricks into the bottom of her feet forced her to slow down.\n\n\"One day they should fucking pave this trail, I swear!\"\n\n\"Sweetheart, they don't have the money.\"\n\n\"I'll give them the money! And don't fucking call me that.\"\n\n\"Very well then.\"\n\n\"Jeez, Adam. You take everything so seriously,\" Raina said, glancing sideways at him. \"So, moving on. The shower must have worked? I can't smell that horrible odor on you from before.\"\n\n\"Huh?\"\n\n\"You said earlier, at the meeting, you got lighter fluid on yourself. I assumed you took a shower. I didn't hear you until the door slammed.\"\n\n\"Umhm.\"\n\n\"What did you barbecue?\" Raina asked.\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"Did you black out between now and then? Fuck, I swear Adam, you are so bizarre.\" Raina stopped, and looked harshly at him. \"You said you stunk so bad because you were barbecuing!\"\n\n\"Fish. Sorry. Didn't know what you were asking.\"\n\n\"You barbecued fish?\"\n\n\"Yes. I did.\"\n\n\"That explains the smell then.\" Raina started walking again and kept talking. \"Don't you worry about bears getting a whiff of that? Hey, so, do you barbecue the fish with garlic and butter? Funny, though, I didn't see any fresh fish for sale at the shop. Obviously you went to town. Gee Adam, I didn't know you had that much time on your hands.\"\n\nIrritated with Raina's incessant blabbering, Adam pulled a small rectangular glass bottle from his jacket pocket. Filled with his favorite amber colored whiskey, he quickly sucked down a drink. Jutting out his hand, he offered some to Raina.\n\n\"Normally I would pass since it's from you. But what the hell.\" Raina grasped it, taking a significant swig of the liquor. Coughing violently, she waited a moment for the burn to settle down then took another drink.\n\n\"It's not for everyone. Sorry you can't handle it,\" Adam said.\n\n\"Please don't patronize me. Yes it's true, I'd rather have something this nasty, diluted. How the hell do you drink this straight all the time? Wait, never mind, I don't want to know.\"\n\n\"Watering it down destroys the whole purpose of drinking whiskey.\" Adam grasped the bottle back from her. Raina was a bitter, stupid girl. Kris's insistence on befriending her, constantly throttled him. Adam took several long slugs of the booze, ditching the cap off into the bushes. He predicted they both would finish it before reaching the cabins.\n\n~ ~ ~\n\nClicking on a small but powerful flashlight, Kris moved the intense beam around her cabin while pushing the door open. Expecting something or somebody to screech out, Kris hesitated to enter. Everything seemed disheveled just as she left it earlier that afternoon.\n\nWindows were wide open. Michael's strict orders of diligence in locking up were ignored. Stagnant, warm air dominated the small space, practically choking her.\n\nShedding the red dress quickly, she threw it over a chair. Insufferably hot, she grabbed a tank top and dropped her keys to the floor. No conceivable way were the windows going to be shut tonight. Michael possessed sincere concern and a valid intensity. But she refused to barricade herself in this tinder box. Stressed, Kris couldn't imagine sleeping in such suffocating conditions. It was unusually warm weather for White Rock. Moreover, it was downright historic for the temperatures to remain strangely elevated in the middle of the night.\n\nKris finally lay down, giving way to the intense desire to sleep. Her final thought before drifting off rested on the conclusion that it was next to impossible for an intruder to scale the thin exterior walls of her cabin. And even if they could, a ton of noise would wake her in the process, at which point she would grab a weapon and beat the living daylights out of the invader. The main floor of the cabin was at least five or six feet from the ground. She didn't know exactly. It didn't really matter. The quietness of the forest took over, beckoning her to sleep.\n\n~ ~ ~\n\n\"Can you believe her though? I mean Adam, that Ranger is such a disappointment to society. Where'd they find such a menacing jerk?\" Raina slurred her words badly. Feeling the full effects of the booze now, she was quite delighted at the numbing properties it provided for the raw pain coming from the underside of her feet.\n\n\"I know.\" Adam handed her the bottle again. Only a slight buzz was teasing his mind. Raina's diarrhea of the mouth was beginning to make him physically sick. If it weren't for the adrenaline beginning to course through his body, Adam would of knocked her out.\n\n\"Hand it on over.\" She grasped the bottle with an outstretched hand.\n\n\"He seems like the type of guy you would go for, Raina.\"\n\n\"I know, right? Although I don't like the military types much. Too rigid and controlling.\"\n\n\"Shhh. People are trying to sleep. Lower your voice for fuck sake.\" Adam observed Raina to be so drunk, she failed to recognize they had reached the outer edge of camp. Waking everyone was something he wanted to avoid. Thoughts crashed down around him. It was too perfect, he thought.\n\n\"Oooops.\" Tripping and almost falling to the ground, Raina snickered carelessly.\n\n\"Come on. Can you walk?\" Adam steered her off the main path quickly, and cut through some overgrown shrubs leading them both along a deer trail.\n\n\"Gosh I don't remember it taking this long to get to camp. Why the hell don't someone prune these lame ass bushes?\" Raina waved her arms in the darkness, pushing away sharp branches and outstretched fronds.\n\nAdam didn't respond but tugged at her to keep moving. He feared she would pass out. Carrying her body over uneven terrain was less than desirable. Finally he found the old trail, a bit obscured, and covered with leaves, but he became quite happy in the discovery of the alternate route.\n\n\"Raina, come on. I want you to see this.\"\n\nRaina tripped once more landing face down in leaf and ground matter.\n\n\"Eww. Gross.\" She pushed herself up onto her knees. Things were spinning horrifically. Taking some deep breaths, she slowly became aware of the surroundings.\n\n\"Adam. Adam!\"\n\n\"What? Come on already. Get over here.\"\n\nGrumbling unintelligibly, Raina stumbled to her feet. She mistakenly identified the dark row of cabins as home.\n\n\"Wow. How late is it? Everyone's gone off to bed.\" Raina dragged her feet along next to him. \"I'm really wasted.\"\n\nDark rows of old cabins sat empty and deteriorating. Adam and Raina stood in the middle of what once was a busy dirt path, now carpeted with weeds and pine needles.\n\n\"Where's mine? Adam, all the lights are off. Where the freaking hell is my place?\"\n\n\"We just need some time for you to sober up. You're too loud, darling.\"\n\n\"Where are we? Adam -\" Raina stopped walking and took a hard look around. \"This is not our camp.\" Raina stumbled up to one of the dilapidated cabins. \"Shit.\" She wobbly pivoted.\n\n\"You prick. This is the ghost camp? You led me all the way over here?\"\n\n\"Very good.\"Adam dropped his backpack slowly onto the steps of cabin 606. Fond memories of earlier that day started his heart racing.\n\nRaina glanced behind herself and then at Adam.\n\n\"I want to go home. Please, Adam. No more games. I don't know the way back to camp from here.\" Raina felt a cold thread of fear pop up.\n\n\"I'm staying here tonight,\" Adam said.\n\n\"What?\" Raina took a few steps toward him in disbelief. Wrapping her arms around herself, a slight shiver coursed through her body.\n\n\"If you think we're hooking up -\"\n\n\"Don't flatter yourself.\"\n\n\"Why'd you bring me over here then? I'm not spending the night in this disgusting place.\"\n\n\"Oh that's fine. Just head back the way we came then.\" Adam leaned down and unzipped the main compartment of his backpack.\n\nRaina mumbled to herself, confused what to do. She'd heard stories of the old connecting trail back down to Willow and staff camp but it wasn't easy to find, even during the day.\n\n\"Can I borrow a flashlight then? How am I supposed to see in the dark?\"\n\n\"Don't you have one in your bag?\" Adam reminded her.\n\n\"Shit! My bag. Where is it? Oh God I dropped it. Help me find it, please. Please, Adam.\" Raina pleaded. She scrambled back toward the trees.\n\nSmiling, Adam took great pleasure in watching her panic. The daft bitch had dropped the thing at least half a mile back. Amidst the whining of her stupid feet, Adam had suggested a short rest. She did not remember to grab her bag once they restarted their ascent along the forest trail.\n\nHe had enough of loud complaining now. Flicking on a small flashlight, he walked over to inspect the frenzied search.\n\n\"Here. Will this do?\" Adam held out the little light.\n\nGlassy-eyed, Raina peered up at him.\n\n\"Yes. Thanks.\" Raina limped forward. Her eyes quickly caught sight of a long object dangling next to Adam's leg.\n\n\"What's that for?\"\n\n\"Oh this?\" Tightening his grip on the rubberized handle, he smiled wickedly.\n\n\"What the hell do you need that for?\" Raina stumbled backward. \"Adam?\" The color draining from her face, Raina twisted and attempted to run but clumsily met the bushes instead.\n\nAdam let the flashlight drop from his hand. He quickly raised the folding ice ax and swung it hard. The flat end of the ax made a forceful contact, striking her squarely in the back. Raina flew to the ground. She screamed out in agony.\n\nWiping spit from the corner of his mouth, Adam approached Raina's sprawled body and loomed over her. Adrenaline coursed through him so hard that he became lightheaded. Tasting earthen material in her mouth, Raina grasped at roots and branches, attempting to stand up. Partly disoriented from the alcohol, she couldn't gain mental clarity. But before she could raise herself onto her knees, a heavy force struck her again. This time the world went black. Raina's limp and lifeless body softly thudded to the dirt.\n\nAdam coughed deeply and set his folding ice ax next to the flashlight. He grabbed her ankles and started dragging her over to the cabins. She was a lot more attractive unconscious. This one would be fun. But first he needed to tend to certain details. He wiped his precious ax clean with some fabric of Raina's shirt. It was important to remove any evidence of her bodily bits. Adam wasn't set on killing Raina just yet. Perhaps she would do him a favor and expire from the trauma he had already inflicted. A lot of blood was pouring from her back.\n\nAggravatingly warm for such a late hour, he was uncomfortably hot and sweaty, and starting to feel the effects of sobriety creeping back. Perhaps a little more whiskey to celebrate a job well done. Sweat ran down the sides of his unshaven face. He pulled out his trusty stainless steel flask from his pack and pressed the mouth of the bottle to his lips. Taking several long gulps, Adam stared down at Raina, who remained motionless. Her puny tattooed arms and legs were stretched out, hugging the ground.\n\nAdam heavily sat on a rotting wood step, producing a sharp crack. He lit a cigarette and enjoyed the eerie stillness of the forest.\n\n~ ~ ~\n\nLost in a dream, Kris was standing knee deep in a creek wearing little except for a tee shirt and underwear. The water was icy cold and rushing all around her legs. She didn't move or make a sound. She stood still peering down into the clear water. Kris was unaware if it was night or day in the dream. Her shivering body was unresponsive and leaden. Instinct nagged at her to retreat from the cold water. But she remained frozen by an unseen force. The only sound heard was the trickling of the water.\n\nStrange bits of gray dust began falling from the sky. At first she likened them to snowflakes. Unable to look up, Kris strained to lift her right hand. Bits of the puffy substance landed into her outstretched fingers. She curiously watched a small pile gather and then let it fall. Kris frowned as the bits landed on the surface of the dark water, but only for for a fleeting moment, and then they melted into nothing. It was almost like ash.\n\nThe dream grew increasingly bizarre, with a constant noise that was growing louder and lower with each passing moment. She couldn't tell how long she had been standing in the water. It seemed very lengthy. The rapping noise grew worse. Almost likened to someone knocking on her own cabin door. But that was silly. She was outside now, wasn't she? Perhaps she had gone for a hike and forgot where she was going.\n\nBlurry images began to drift back and forth. A tiny apartment she rented one winter in the high desert town of Blanding Ditch.The long, cold season she spent alone and working at a local diner. She'd met Adam there. He was a daily customer, always sitting way in the back. Watching her. Reading. Drinking coffee and waiting for the perfect moment. Eventually he invited her out. They wound up walking through the quaint historic district of Blanding Ditch. It was a peculiar town seemingly in the middle of nowhere. Settlers found the rural location while looking for water, needed for nearby gold strikes.\n\nAdam and Kris had stopped for hot chocolate during one cold winter night. He had offered her a splash of Irish whiskey from a flask produced from an interior pocket of a tactical black jacket. The same jacket he later gave to Kris to keep warm during a snow shoeing excursion in the Blue Pine Mountains. Memories she long forgot. The good times had been pushed into the far reaches of her mind. They overtook the dream.\n\nKris saw an orange glow from a small lamp against the wall of her bedroom in the old apartment. The lamp was on the floor, since she couldn't afford night tables. She stood in the doorway looking about the room. The sheets were rumpled, slept in. Adam had been there. They had made love after coming back to her apartment from a date. He requested to stay the night, but she refused. She was uncomfortable. He was angry and left abruptly. Tears ran down Kris's cheeks.\n\nThe knocking continued.\n\nDeep in the dream, Kris turned from the doorway and walked to the front door. It must be Adam. Returning to apologize perhaps. Certainly no one else would call at this late hour.\n\nAs Kris reached to open the door, or so she visioned in the dream, her hearing intensified and a voice calling her name jolted her straight out of the sleep induced hallucination.\n\n\"Kris!\"\n\nIt sounded familiar.\n\n\"Kris!\" Loud knocking brought her fully awake. Pushing herself up from laying face down in her pillow, Kris sat back on her legs. Eyes heavy, she strained to open them.\n\nEverything grew silent. She sat confused for several moments until the knocking started once more.\n\nLong hair pressed against her face from heavy sleep, she swung her feet over the bunk and managed to grab the baseball bat off the floor.\n\nShakily she twisted back the lock and yanked the door open a crack.\n\n\"I was about to break it down.\" Michael stormed in.\n\nKris was greeted by an extremely painful burst of bright light as Michael forcefully entered. Squinting in visual pain, she reached out to steady herself.\n\n\"Here, sit.\" Michael shut the door, grabbed onto Kris and killed the flashlight.\n\n\"What time is it?\" Kris lay back down on the blankets.\n\n\"I see you listened to me.\" Michael observed the open windows.\n\n\"It's hot.\" Kris put a hand to her temples. \"I'm so tired I feel dead.\"\n\n\"Don't say that.\" Michael placed a large cup of coffee on the desk and sat on the edge of the bed. Without delay he began the tedious unlacing of his boots.\n\n\"Sorry.\" Kris scooted up to him, curling her body around. \"I had the weirdest dreams.\"\n\n\"Dreams? As in plural?\"\n\n\"Yeah, there were several. Almost like real life.\" Kris frowned.\n\n\"You sound very groggy. Was I in any of those dreams?\"\n\n\"No.\" Kris touched his lower back. \"It was awfully weird. I swear I could hear your knocking during one dream. Didn't make sense.\"\n\n\"Dreams usually don't make sense.\" Michael stood once his shoes were off and unbuckled his duty belt.\n\n\"I know. But it was like -\" Kris tried to think, distracted by how particularly good Michael smelled. \"Uh, it was like I was transported in time. Memories I guess.\"\n\n\"Good or bad?\"\n\nKris thought hard. She had a strange taste in her mouth.\n\n\"Just odd,\" she said.\n\nScooting Kris back a bit, he lay down beside her. Michael started smoothing her hair away from her face and kissed her softly.\n\n\"Why are you here?\" Kris asked.\n\n\"I'm on a break.\"\n\n\"Oh. A break from what?\" She closed her eyes as they felt scratchy and irritated.\n\n\"From working. I'm on patrol all night.\"\n\n\"Just come by to say hello to your girlfriend?\" Kris sleepily smiled.\n\n\"Sure.\" Michael drank in every moment. She was positively adorable in the sexiest way he could ever imagine.\n\n\"Because I didn't like how I left things earlier.\" His voice was deep and soft.\n\n\"I can't even remember now.\" Kris touched his arm.\n\n\"I am completely at fault. My affair with. . .\"\n\n\"Beth.\" Kris helped him out.\n\n\"Yes, her. It was stupid. I was stupid to think it wouldn't come into play later. I should of told you the minute we got involved.\"\n\n\"Hmm.\" Kris yawned. \"Then maybe we wouldn't have gotten involved.\" Her words were so weak they were barely audible.\n\n\"You would of shunned me?\"\n\nKris responded with a muffled acknowledgment.\n\n\"Are you listening to me baby?\" He whispered, coiling a lock of hair around a finger and then letting it unwind slowly. \"I'm sorry,\" he said, kissing the side of her mouth.\n\nKris opened her eyes to Michael's stressed expression. His eyes pierced deeply into hers.\n\n\"I am listening. The sound of your voice is making me want to go back to sleep. I'm not even sure if this is a dream or real.\" Kris spoke languidly, breathing quite heavily.\n\n\"All I could think of this evening was being with you.\"\n\n\"You smell like coffee,\" Kris said.\n\n\"Do I? You smell like the deep part of a thick forest.\" Michael kissed her neck. It occurred to him she was hardly wearing anything.\n\n\"Mmm.\" Kris made soft noises while he ran a hand along her silken skin. Her mind visualized a dark wooded forest. \"I know that smell.\" She arched her back, stretching.\n\n\"Kris, I would rather you stay at my place. It's safer. And perhaps a little more comfortable than this rickety shack.\"\n\n\"Are you asking me, or telling me?\"\n\n\"I'm heavily suggesting.\"\n\nKris sighed, pursing her lips together.\n\n\"Is that a no?\"\n\n\"Michael, I can't. It's not that I don't want to, but I can't. It would take twice as much time for me to get to work. Never mind that it's breaking the rules.\"\n\n\"I can drive you.\"\n\n\"Yeah you could. To the roundabout. I still have to walk down the trail into Willow. You're not about to take the service road with the truck. That will bring so much attention to -\"\n\n\"I don't care. I'll do it. I'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.\"\n\n\"You really think I'm in that much danger?\" Kris twisted to face him again and propped herself up on an elbow.\n\n\"My gut says you are in very real danger. You're the most beautiful girl at this park. My experience is telling me that you could be the next victim.\" Michael rubbed his eyes and lay on his back. He knew Kris was right. He couldn't give his girlfriend specialized treatment. And if he was reprimanded, most likely by Beth, or fired, he would be ineffective and unable to protect Kris or find the killer.\n\n\"You talked of leaving,\" Michael said.\n\n\"Yes. But not until the season is over. I really don't want to discuss it.\"\n\n\"I know.\" He put a hand on her bare leg. \"I won't try and force you to do anything. I have serious problems with staying, myself. You are hired seasonally. I am hired without a contract. Employed until fired, or I quit.\"\n\n\"I didn't realize that.\" Kris wondered where he was going with this speech.\n\n\"If I quit, when the season is over, would you come with me?\" He eyed her.\n\nKris let the words sink in for a moment, tracing imaginary lines over his chest which was covered by something thick and solid beneath his shirt. It was possible he was just having a bad night. Things could appear much less severe in the morning.\n\n\"You would just leave your job?\" She asked.\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Why on earth would you want to leave?\"\n\n\"Because, Kris, it's just a job. I can find another one. Beth is going to run this place into the ground. I don't have enough manpower to find a deviant criminal. Your safety is at stake. It's enough.\" He went through the items verbally as if mentally checking them off on a list.\n\nKris weighed her answer carefully, since perhaps the underlying meaning went much deeper than White Rock and their jobs.\n\n\"Michael, what about those times you were in the special forces? Or whatever it was. You must have been up against some pretty bad odds.\"\n\nMichael knew exactly what she was thinking.\n\n\"And I didn't quit then.\"\n\n\"Right.\"\n\n\"That's a different scenario,\" Michael said.\n\n\"Then make it this scenario. The management of this park sucks. You can't do a damn thing about Beth and so what if a freak is running around? It's White Rock. This place is awesome. It's my home.\"\n\nSlowly exhaling, Michael let her words drift over him. Kris had a history at the park. She was no dummy, and a lot tougher than he wanted to admit. Certainly there had been other sickos and other crime that she survived over the years. But he could not shake the uneasy feeling that her life was in grave danger.\n\n\"Plus. I need the money. I don't get a bonus at the end if I quit and leave early,\" Kris said, grazing her lips near the tip of his ear.\n\n\"I have money. I'll take care of you.\" Michael enlightened, turning to watch for her reaction, which wasn't always easy to read.\n\nKris took his hand and kissed his palm. He knew she would never consider such a proposition. The trust he was gaining was only beginning to sink in and deepen. By telling her to quit her job and depend solely on him, was unreasonable. He still wished it was possible.\n\n\"Thank you for offering.\" Kris brought the back of his hand against her cheek, \" I know you mean well.\"\n\n\"It's not an option for you. I know. I don't know why I said it.\"\n\n\"Thank you though.\" Kris whispered. \"I'll be okay. I really will.\" She tried to impress upon him, but wondered if it was a futile effort. He would worry, regardless.\n\n\"When is your break over?\" Kris sat up. Long mangled hair draped down into his midst. Threading his fingers into her locks, Michael gently coerced her into him. Hand slipping around the nape of her neck, he met her lips, kissing gently at first. As usual, his desire was ignited, and he craved her svelte body up against his. Deeply he enveloped her, tasting her sweet mouth and ramping up the heat between them. Tiredness from the lengthy day and graveyard shift, faded quickly. The appetite to take her grew strong and ever forceful.\n\n\"My break is over when I say it's over.\" Michael withdrew from the kiss, quickly laying her on her back.\n\n\"What the hell are you wearing?\" Kris watched as he unbuttoned his shirt. Beneath was some sort of black shield.\n\n\"Bullet proof vest. Here, feel.\" He grabbed her hand and placed it against the life saving body armor fabric. Kris's hand dropped, a bit surprised at the revelation that he found it necessary to wear such a device. With a large ripping sound, he pulled the straps apart, freeing his chest clad in a white tee shirt.\n\n\"I'd give you one to wear, but something tells me that you wouldn't.\"\n\n\"I'm not sure that it would fit under my clothes as well as it fits under yours. I imagine they are aren't comfortable either. Heck no I wouldn't wear it,\" Kris said.\n\n\"Then say you'll take me as your personal shield.\" Hovering above her on his hands and knees, Michael seemed half serious in his request.\n\n\"Okay. I will.\" Kris had other ideas in mind. She was tired of all this talk about danger and risk. Reaching up she unzipped the front of his black uniform pants, slipping past the constraint of fabric and clothing. Intolerable heat poured from his body. Scooting beneath him, and pushing herself up on both elbows, Kris licked the tip of his engorged appendage.\n\n\"Fuck.\" Michael swore between his clenched teeth. \"I'd never go to work again if you lived with me. Perhaps it's better we are apart occasionally.\"\n\nKris smiled, in spite of her oral provocations toward his cock. He not only possessed impressive girth, but just now she realized what a delicious specimen it really was. Running her tongue around the swollen head of his shaft she felt butterflies ramming themselves against the interior walls of her stomach. Knowing he would allow this fornication to continue only so long, Kris savored the beastly device that defined him as a man.\n\nShe dragged her wet lips over and around the entrance to his aching projection. The throbbing little portal that would erupt with pleasureful force, giving him a temporary satisfaction to his endured suffering. Kris grew quite warm just imaging his ejaculation. She needed a moment to take a deep breath.\n\n\"Just think, Michael -\" Kris licked her lips staring up at him. \"- you could wake up every morning, finding new ways to interrupt my shower. I suppose handcuffs are optional.\"\n\nMichael planted a deep, hard kiss upon her mouth.\n\n\"And what makes you think you would even reach the shower?\" Breathlessly, he growled in a low, raw tone.\n\n\"Why, would you tie me to the bed?\" Kris teased, beleaguering his torment. With one hand she forced away the rest of his undergarment, and took his throbbing mass with her other hand. Savoring his enlarged cock, she wrapped a leg around him, drawing him down hard.\n\n\"If you want me to tie you to the bed next time, I will.\" Michael let her have her way for the moment, but was delirious with visions of embedding himself into her beckoning vault.\n\nThe thought of Kris restrained to his bed pushed his thoughts off a cliff. Quickly he shed the rest of his clothes, and then wrapped his hands around her lithesome hips. His thumbs digging into sensitive pressure points. The penetrating act heightened unexplainable sensations within Kris quite rapidly. She grabbed hold of his wrists in weak defiance but it did little to counteract the generative hunger exploding within her. Sliding his fingers purposefully slow until stopping short of penetrating her, the goal became clear of beleaguering and tormenting.\n\nBeads of sweat covered her brow. Michael slowly kissed her, moving further and further down to her feminine channel. Languidly he kissed soft skin and guided his tongue, tasting her sweet essence. A salacious exploration, he continued to pleasure her, noting Kris's strained little murmurs and heightened breathing. Dragging his hot tongue along her moist corridor, Michael became lost, seduced by her flesh. Wrapping one hand around her savagely tight ass, he entered her constricting volume with two fingers. He fought off fervid uncontrollable waves of giving in and embedding his swollen cock deeply into her sumptuous chamber. The muscles in his jaw ached. Just watching her inhibitions melt away made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.\n\nShit. He couldn't think anymore. She was so wet and tight he wanted furiously to bury himself into such bliss. One more second and he was going expel his thick heavy serum all over her. It would matter little because he'd still be as fucking hard as a piece of granite after ejaculating. His damn cock never settled down very fast. And neither did his brain.\n\n\"Michael? What's wrong?\" Kris could barely speak, her voice dissipated into a discordant whisper.\n\nWith his expression slightly obscured, Kris was a bit oblivious to his precarious state. Michael took in a deep breath, and became rapidly overcome with vertigo.\n\n\"Just a minute.\" He softly warned. Perhaps working so much lately without decent sleep was catching up with him. Lightheaded, he endured a few moments of the room spinning while perfectly lost in a sea of arousal.\n\n\"Michael, what's wrong? We can stop.\" Sensing something was quite off with him, Kris became concerned.\n\n\"Absolutely not.\" Crawling up to deeply kiss her, Michael rolled onto his back, while the room seemed to roll with him.\n\n\"What can I do? Do you need water or something?\"\n\n\"No. Don't fuss over me. It'll pass.\"\n\nKris climbed on top of him and sat quite worried.\n\n\"You're not going to have a heart attack or something, are you? What should I do?\"\n\nMichael gave a laugh. \"You should kiss me.\"\n\nKris gingerly hunched over, expecting to deliver a soft kiss, but Michael had other ideas and met her with a ravenous embrace.\n\n\"You just did this to get me to sit on you, am I right?\" Kris toyed, but couldn't shake her concern.\n\n\"No. But now that you're in this position, I can think of a few things for you to do.\"\n\n\"Just a few?\" Kris grew impatient with his hard cock now between her straddled legs.\n\n\"When was the last time you ate?\"\n\n\"Not sure exactly. I doubt lack of food is my problem.\"\n\n\"Oh. What then? Let me guess, you're not going to tell me.\"\n\n\"On the contrary.\" Michael grasped her wrist and guided her hand to his throbbing girth.\n\n\"Oh I get it. Too much excitement?\" Kris snickered, watching a smile creep upon his face. One hand on top of hers, he directed the other hand around the base of him.\n\n\"Among other things. I'm just worn the hell out.\"\n\n\"Doesn't feel that way to me.\" Like kneading a sore muscle, Kris threaded her fingers together, exerting pressure with her encircled hands around his cock. Then she nudged herself forward a bit more so the tip of her female flesh met the base of his massive thickness. She continued to manipulate him with her hands, with the added benefit of experiencing powerful heat transference. With his cock writhing up against her clit, Kris realized they were both near a electrifying climax.\n\nMichael had little strength left and came brutally fast. Thick creamy liquid ejected from the head of his massive appendage. Kris smoothed her hands over the tip and down his shaft and up again, sending resounding spasms throughout his body.\n\nBarely a moment passed from his own surrender, and Michael commanded she mount him. Kris prayed that her legs would stop shaking.\n\n\"Hang onto me.\" Michael took her hands, placing them just above his own hips. She was half balanced on the forward section of her feet. A profoundly evil grin spread across him as his cock plunged deep within her.\n\nMichael grabbed her wrists, helping her steady, knowing the salacious encasement was quite powerful.\n\nPressing her hands flat on his belly she advanced upward, feeling the constriction of her own swollen corridor. Entrenched in rough desire, Michael slid his hand along the inside of her leg. As she sank back down he touched her swollen button of flesh with this thumb. Tingling sensations of hot and cold ran down her back. Kris cried out, vocalizing indistinguishable words.\n\n\"That's it baby.\" Michael thought she was so far gone in torrid pleasure, she would collapse at any moment. But then her orgasm slammed fast. Kris could hardly hang onto the position she was in, but the powerful force that rocked her muscles took over like a masterful spell. Finally she fell forward with his cock still inside. Slowly, Kris melted down on top of him, slightly kissing his chest.\n\n\"Straighten your legs out or they'll cramp up.\" Michael whispered into her ear.\n\n\"I could fall asleep this way.\" Kris mouthed, curled up on him. She did not want to let go. Her ear to his chest, she enjoyed the rapid thumping of his unsettled heart. Threading a shaky a hand between their wet bodies she intended to extricate him from her, but he did not permit it. Slowly, in short thrusting, gyrating motions, Michael continued to mate her. Fresh off her own exculpation, but muscles jittery and flesh raw with sensitivity, Kris uncontrollably moaned and writhed against him.\n\nPulling her upward just a bit, he breathed heavily into her ear. He spoke words of a very raw nature to her, disclosing his most tantalizingly vivid thoughts. Seconds later he poured his elixir into her once again. A warm rush filled Kris, and she lapsed into a jittery abyss.\n\nMichael encased his strong arms around her, smoothing his hands over the silken skin of her back. Ever so slightly he continued to move seductively beneath her body.\n\n\"You're out to kill me.\" Kris slumped her head into his shoulder, below his neck, and kissed sumptuous hot flesh.\n\n\"That's the general idea.\" Michael moved onto his side, bringing her tenuous body with him, kissing her deeply and slowly. Drowsy, Kris ravished every caress, enjoying his tongue dance in and out of her mouth. Michael's warm irregular breath cascaded over her. If it had not been for his strong, intoxicating kissing she would of recessed into a blissful slumber.\n\nMichael smoothed her hair over her ear so he could see her face in the dim light. Time dropped from his concern. He was where he needed to be. Kris's protector. Her lover. Guardian. The fullness of it was surreal.\n\nTemptation to let go and fall asleep next to her was overpowering. Michael forced himself to return to reality.\n\n\"I have to go.\" He mouthed.\n\n\"What?\" Kris tried to sit up.\n\n\"Work.\" Michael smiled.\n\n\"I forgot you are still on duty. What a damnable thing.\"\n\n\"Lay down,\" he instructed, \"One of us should sleep.\" He kissed her once more before starting the assembling of his clothes and duty belt. Kris groggily watched as he swiftly reattached all the necessary contraptions. Last to attend to was the radio. As he turned the volume back to high, a tail end of a report was scratchily coming through the speaker.\n\nEyes heavy, and blissfully happy, Kris heard the garbled words and bolted straight up in the bed.\n\n\"What are they saying?\"\n\nMichael shook his head, speaking into the device.\n\n\"Damon, this is Michael, please repeat, 10-1.\"\n\nRough, uneven static sounded for a few seconds before his request was acknowledged.\n\n\"Michael, all units respond. Suspected 240. Northwest quadrant. Repeat 240.\" Damon's raspy voice broke through. \"Where are you?\"\n\n\"I'll be en route in 30 seconds. Units there now?\" Michael responded, reaching up and slamming shut Kris's open windows.\n\n\"10-23.\" A loud electronic blip sounded and the radio went silent.\n\nThrowing the device on the bed, Michael shoved on his boots and laced them in great haste.\n\n\"Affirmative. Officer on scene. Code 20. Paramedics 30 minutes out. Possible suspect still in area,\" Damon Jerr said.\n\nMichael grabbed the radio off the bed. \"10-4. I'm headed there now.\"\n\n\"Copy Michael.\"\n\n\"What's happening? What's a code 20? Michael!\" Kris stood, wrapping her arms tight around her midsection.\n\nA swift kiss and then he yanked open the door, but stalled to gaze back at Kris. She was horrified and unjustly disconnected from what was taking place.\n\n\"531, Damon do they have an ID on the victim?\" Michael's voice cracked speaking into the radio. He maintained eye contact with Kris but torn at the pale expression on her face.\n\n\"Negative. Negative. Unknown victim, no positive ID.\" Damon shot back.\n\n\"Copy that.\" Michael spat .\n\n\"They don't know?\" Kris grabbed a pair of sweats from the chair. \"Where? Don't try and stop me, I'm going with you.\"\n\n\"No. No, I can't take you. You're staying here.\"\n\n\"Why? Please let me come, I'll stay in the truck.\"\n\n\"Kristjana. You need to stay here. Let me do my job. The perpetrator may still be in the area. I can't protect you and deal with the scene at the same time.\" He hugged her tight, grasping the back of her head with his hand.\n\n\"I need to go. Stay here. I mean it. Will you?\" Michael let go of her and backed out the door.\n\nKris reluctantly nodded.\n\n\"Lock this door. And keep those shut.\" He pointed the radio antenna toward the windows, and then disappeared.\n\nKris flew to the door. He was a terribly long way from his truck, which should have been parked at the roundabout or further out. But looking down the steps in the darkness she saw the dim outline of his vehicle. He had put the truck right in front of her cabin.\n\nMichael threw open the door, slid in, and shoved the key into the ignition. He glanced up at Kris on the steps.\n\n\"I'll find you later. I promise. Get some sleep.\"\n\nKris nodded hesitantly. Sleep? Yeah, right. Quickly the engine roared to life. He spun the vehicle around so fast the rear tires kicked up a huge cloud of dust and rocks.\n\nKris went inside and latched the door. Her heart was slamming wildly, and it was painfully difficult to swallow. Another attack. This couldn't be happening. The quiet cabin seemed foreign with Michael gone. She didn't want to be here.\n\nIt was 3AM. Daylight wasn't for another three hours. She was due at the dining hall by 7:30AM. Without decent sleep, the panic attacks she worked so hard to get rid of over the years and keep secret, had a fair chance of returning. It was painfully clear what she needed. Kneeling in front of her old leather trunk, she yanked the heavy lid open. Digging around in darkness for a few minutes, she finally found it. A small plastic bottle with a white label and black printing. A prescription for an anti-anxiety medication. Nearly three quarters of the season at White Rock and she had avoided taking them. The cap twisted off rather easily and Kris shook it until a little pill tumbled into her hand. Before she talked herself out of it, she gulped down the medication with a big drink of water.\n\nWith a loud slam, she shut the top of the trunk and stumbled over to the bed but did not lay down. It plagued her what Michael was involved in on the other side of the park. More than ever she felt horribly alone and helpless. Grabbing a blanket, she shook it to straighten it out. Intending to tidy up her little bunk, Kris found herself caught up in Michael's scent. Overwhelmed, she lay down and pulled the covers around her, leaving part of her body exposed. The heat of the night remained. Bit by bit she gave in to the relaxing effect of the drug.\n\nIf she resisted sleep now, no matter what was unfolding with the new attack and investigation, she would a total mess come morning.\n\nWhat if the suspect was outside the cabins right now? Damon said something about the incident occurring near the ghost camp. The old cabins. They weren't so far away from staff camp. Kris wrestled with paranoid thinking. Perhaps the attacker would sneak off. Get away. Would he ever be caught? She could feel her mind start to slip further into delusion. Reaching down under the bed she grasped the old wooden baseball bat and held it tightly against her body. A cold shiver crept up her spine. She knew the drug was working now. Soon after imagining scratching noises at her door, she fell into a fitful sleep.\nChapter Twenty\n\n\"Raina, can you hear me? How did you get here?\" A soft voice leaned over Raina's sprawled body on the ground. Raina did not acknowledge the stranger. Half conscious and bleeding heavily, she was still intoxicated.\n\n\"She's drunk. Smell it? That how the bastard does it? Get 'em wasted first?\" Travis Feldspar, the nighttime security officer stared down at the body.\n\n\"I don't believe alcohol showed up in lab results with the others.\" A woman spoke, shoving a hand into the pocket of a long white coat.\n\nAnd then a different voice called out, \"He's on his way!\" Keri Brusk came running up to the small gathering of personnel.\n\n\"Travis, how'd you find her?\" Keri asked, out of breath.\n\n\"Where's Falkenrath?\" Travis asked.\n\n\"Coming. He's on the way. So, why were you over here?\"\n\n\"Cool your heels.\" Travis didn't like the tone of Keri's voice.\n\n\"Who told you to check this quadrant? It's not part of the patrol.\"\n\n\"Michael asked me to.\"\n\n\"When?\" Keri put her hands on her hips, upset at the revelation Michael was apparently taking things into his own hands.\n\n\"You know Keri, if you weren't such a bitch, you might be in the loop. Michael played on a hunch and apparently it was right.\"\n\n\"Just tell me. You know Beth is going to be asking the same questions in about 15 minutes.\"\n\n\"Kiss-ass.\" Travis growled and stepped forward toward Keri. \"For your information, we got a report earlier in the day. Some parents of a stupid teenager were complaining their daughter was propositioned by a park worker over here.\"\n\n\"What? I didn't get that report.\"\n\n\"Well don't look at me. It was filed in the office. Michael told me to start checking out the ghost camp as of this evening. You have a fucking issue with that, take it up with him,\" Travis said.\n\n\"Did it occur to anyone that the park worker may have been Raina's attacker?\" Keri threw up her hands.\n\n\"Do you know how many of those degenerates come over here? Just look under the floor boards,\" Travis pointed to the cabins, \"there's nothing but used condoms and drug paraphernalia. The girl in the report apparently has a history of getting in trouble.\" Travis had enough of the interrogation, his voice was rough and edgy.\n\n\"Are you calling our staff, degenerates?\" Keri asked.\n\n\"Hey, both of you. Take it some where else. And someone call about that ambulance. It should have been here by now.\" The nurse, Laura Danes, harshly spoke out to both of the quarreling rangers.\n\nAs Travis moved away and grabbed his radio, the high intensity beams of Michael's truck filled the entire area. The tires skidded to a halt and he jumped out. Michael raced forth and crouched low to the ground next to Raina's body.\n\n\"Where's the paramedics?\" He handed off a large searchlight to Keri. First aid was finally being administered by the nurse.\n\n\"God you got here quick Laura.\" Michael spoke to the nurse but his attention cascaded over the bloodied body before them. \"What's her condition?\"\n\n\"I can't be sure. She's passed out though.\"\n\n\"What the hell was she hit with?\" Michael moved a bit of blood soaked fabric away.\n\n\"I couldn't tell you.\"\n\n\"She passed out from the wound or the booze?\" Michael asked.\n\nSmiling warmly, calm as ever in the face of tragedy, Laura pulled an emergency blanket over Raina.\n\n\"Unclear on what has caused her unconscious state. I would say both actually. But she needs to be transported to a hospital.\"\n\n\"She going to make it?\" Michael was concerned for Raina but her ability to give details of the attack was paramount.\n\n\"Yes but she's in shock and lost a lot of blood,\" Laura said.\n\n\"What the hell was she doing over here?\" Michael asked under his breath. He stood and rubbed his forehead. Was she dragged to this location, or did she arrive on her own?\n\n\"She's a partier. I've treated her before. Falls, head trauma, dehydration.\" Laura quipped.\n\n\"Doesn't surprise me.\"\n\n\"What are you thinking?\" Laura watched as Michael inspected the immediate surrounding area.\n\n\"What was she doing drinking way over here at this hour alone?\" Kris and Raina were good friends. The little he knew about the short haired spitfire didn't lend any insight into this attack.\n\nKris.\n\nHopefully she was fast asleep. Oblivious to cruel events. Safe, locked up in that stuffy cabin for now. He would need to be the one to inform Kris that her friend was the next victim. Things were about to change rapidly.\n\n\"Damon, this is Michael. I want a code 6. Cordon off this entire section of the park. Nobody in or out. 10-73.\" He spoke quickly into the radio.\n\n\"Affirmative Michael. North quad lock down. Medics should be on top of you soon.\"\n\nMichael bent down again, smoothing his hand along Raina's arm, trying to produce some wakefulness.\n\n\"Raina? Can you hear me?\" But there was no response.\n\n\"She's passed out cold.\" Laura held up an IV bag, the tubing attached to one of Raina's arms. \"If she weren't intoxicated...\"\n\n\"Yeah.\" Michael breathed out sternly.\n\n\"Hey! Travis!\" Michael strode over to the ex-cop.\n\n\"Yeah, Michael. What do you need?\"\n\n\"Wake up Beth. Tell her we need to shut this fucking park down now.\"\n\n\"Excuse me? That's a bit rash, don't you think?\" Overhearing Michael's statement, Keri came over to intervene.\n\n\"No I don't think it's rash. I think there is a major amount of incompetence and it's time it fucking stopped.\" Michael tried to keep his voice low.\n\n\"Okay,\" Keri held out her hands, \"what good is it going to do by getting everyone crazy? Hmm? Let's stop and think about this rationally.\"\n\nCoughing hard, Travis lost his patience.\n\n\"Open your goddam eyes, Keri, don't you see what's going on here?\"\n\n\"Travis, back up. You have no right -\"\n\nKeri went on speaking but a beam of light coming from the darkened trees caught everyone's attention. Angela Bello, another ranger, was doing her best to run, but she was huffing and puffing so hard her face was solid red. She was waving a piece of paper and had some difficulty speaking amidst a sea of coughing.\n\n\"Angela, what on earth is wrong with you?\" Travis went to her.\n\n\"It's official. Park. Evacuated. Fire jumped the lines. They can't hold it. Gonna reach the valley by morning.\"\n\n\"It is morning.\" Keri scoffed.\n\n\"Shut up.\" Travis grabbed the fax from Angela's hand. \"She's right. Here Michael.\"\n\n\"Can't any of you see? The smoke, it's already so thick down here.\" Angela sputtered and grabbed her chest trying to take in a deep breath.\n\n\"Who ordered the evac?\" Keri bristled.\n\nShoving the paper at her, he snarled, \"Your buddy Beth.\"\n\n\"Unit 13 is being air lifted out of the Black Creek trail system. Winds are pushing southwest down slope. Crown fire has prevented progress.\"\n\nMichael turned but listening to Keri read the paper, something snagged his thoughts. If the fire began east in the high country, and winds were pushing southwest.. how did it hit Black Creek? That area was north of the fire. Were there two fires?\n\nMichael thought hard. His strange meeting with Adam was right along the trail head above Black Creek. There was a reason Adam had been there. It had not been a coincidence.\n\nAngela regained her wits finally and spoke up. \"The south entrance is the only way out. Apparently a lot of people left yesterday when the smoke got thick.\"\n\n\"You won't be able to go after him. The perpetrator. Michael? We have to assist with the evacuation. If there is only one way out?\" Travis pointed out, his brow torqued up in discontent.\n\nMichael said nothing. If the fire was going to reach the valley in a matter of hours he had a limited amount of time to hunt this sick fuck down. His adrenaline was coursing at maximum intensity. Determination approached a critical level. He needed Raina to be lucid and able to communicate. Waiting for the intravenous fluids to work and paramedics to arrive was aggravating.\n\nThe desire to get to Kris was intense. Logic dictated that others would wake her. The motley band of her friends would keep her safe. He had to believe that.\n\nThe flash of bright red lights canceled his distraction. Two paramedics rushed out, but Michael grabbed a third by the arm.\n\n\"The victim may know who the attacker is. Can you wake her?\" He asked.\n\n\"We're under orders to evacuate. We just came through the main entrance, it's total chaos. I don't know how long we can wait.\" The EMT informed him.\n\nWhile they loaded Raina onto a stretcher and into the back of the emergency vehicle, Michael set off to look for clues. Any details whatsoever. Retracing what seemed to be human footsteps into thick brush, Michael bent down, touching the disturbed earth. There had been a struggle. Raina's body had been dragged.\n\n\"Michael!\" A voice echoed. \"Michael!\"\n\nThis was madness, he thought. Leaving the edge of what seemed to be an old trail, he ran back towards the clearing.\n\n\"What now?\"\n\nLaura was waving a flashlight, beckoning him to return. The medics were working on the damaged girl. Anger rose up, causing his chest to get tighter and tighter. This attack could have been prevented. The perpetrator was someone she knew. Perhaps trusted. Raina was not a random selection for the assailant. An ex-boyfriend? An enemy? Co-worker?\n\n\"Okay, so what do you need?\" He met the nurse near the conglomeration of vehicles.\n\n\"Beth wants you on the satellite phone. Is your radio turned off? Keri was complaining she couldn't get you a minute ago.\"\n\n\"To hell with them. How is she?\" Michael gestured toward the ambulance.\n\n\"She'll be okay. Maybe stay close, I think with the fluids she could regain consciousness soon,\" Laura said.\n\n\"You need to get out of here,\" Michael gazed over at the sweet faced woman, \"as daylight comes it's only going to get worse.\"\n\n\"Don't worry about me. I'll get out.\" Laura smiled. \"She'll be okay.\"\n\n\"Think so? Looked like a pretty bad gash on her back.\" Michael frowned.\n\n\"No,\" Laura turned, her arms wrapped around her midsection, looking directly at the worn ranger, \"I mean Kris. She's a smart thing. I know you must want to go to her.\"\n\nMichael felt his stomach lurch.\n\n\"Yes. Of course.\" Michael was a bit overcome for a split second, but he fought to regain his professionalism. \"Thanks for helping out with all this. I'm sure your quick response will better the outcome for that girl.\"\n\n\"Rumor has it you're leaving.\" Laura turned, about to make her way back to her car.\n\nMichael narrowed his eyes. \"Not until I get him.\"\n\n~ ~ ~\n\nDaylight broke with a thick orange glow.\n\nKris woke from a heavy, fitful trance. At first she figured she was hallucinating. Unsteady, she attempted to stand but crashed into the far wall near the door. So much noise emanated through the thin cabin clapboards, Kris thought perhaps everyone was having a wild party outside. She blinked over and over until regaining clear sight. Grasping the warm door knob, she tried to give it a twist, but weakness in her muscles stalled her attempt to open it. Kris breathed out heavily. Wondering if she was hung over, she tried to recall the previous night's events, but could not.\n\n\"Shhhit.\" Slumping down to the floor, she sat with her back against the door, head in her hands. Apparently everyone outside was having a grand old time. But then she noticed heavy smoke seeping in from underneath the door. Odd to be having such a party in the morning.\n\nKris grabbed whatever clothes she could and sloppily attempted to get dressed. Swearing under her breath, she combed out her tangled hair but had to pause and grab the edge of the desk several times due to dizziness.\n\n\"I don't remember this.\" Kris grabbed a half empty water bottle and took a long drink, thinking she was dehydrated. Anxiety pills never produced such a heavy, groggy state. She gulped down more water, although now, twinges of nausea was beginning to form.\n\n\"Where the hell is my jacket?\" Her eyes wouldn't cooperate and focus. \"Fuck it.\" A need for fresh air overtook the compulsion to find other clothing.\n\nKris stumbled out the door and tried pulling it shut but it only bounced against the door frame and stayed ajar. It went unnoticed and she grasped the step railing for dear life, plunking down each level until she was on the dirt.\n\nTotal mayhem was breaking loose. Cars were parked in the center of the camp and people were throwing belongings into vehicles. Kris decided she was either hallucinating or dreaming. Why was everyone acting like freaks?\n\n\"Kris!\" Jake ran up to her seemingly out of thin air.\n\n\"Huh?\" She gazed at him, observing at least four different versions of Jake McAllister floating before her.\n\n\"What's the matter with you?! We have to get out.\" Jake grabbed her upper arm trying to startle her.\n\n\"Kris, did you hear me? What's wrong with you?\"\n\n\"Are you guys having a party? Everyone is going to be late for work,\" Kris said.\n\n\"What? No, we're evacuating. Can't you see? Wake up. Are you high on something? The fire is going to reach the valley soon. Headquarters has ordered us to go.\"\n\n\"What fire?\" Kris strained to make sense out of the bedlam.\n\n\"The forest fire. Where do you think all this smoke is coming from? The back country fire made its way down here.\"\n\nKris nodded. She knew there was grave danger but in a such a drugged state of mind she was equating the evacuation to the park killer.\n\n\"Get out. Go find Falkenrath.\" Jake yelled before running off into the blue haze of the camp. Kris quickly lost sight of him in the mess of people and smoke.\n\nPerhaps Raina could straighten all this out, plus she kept a car in the dirt lot. At least she used to. Kris stumbled along until reaching Raina's cabin. Peering up at the rickety old steps, Kris grasped the railing. A fast moving wave of dizziness washed over her. She blinked several times and started the climb up.\n\nShe raised her hand to knock on the door but missed and only hit air. Sloppily stepping forward once more, she tried again. This time her knuckles made contact with the door.\n\nAfter several minutes of weak knocking at irregular intervals it was painfully apparent Raina was gone. Her door was locked as well, which was strange. But then Kris was dealing a world of strange. She slid down against the door, but the growing aches in her stomach only worsened. She wasn't quite sure if a dark figure was crossing the path, coming straight at Raina's cabin, or if it was a wild hallucination.\n\nWhoever it was, started pounding heavily up the steps. The vibration struck her nerves quickly and she leaned over to throw up violently on the porch. Several more times she became sick before managing to sit upright.\n\n\"Kris?\" The blurred figure was standing over her now. She didn't feel like moving her head to look up. Concentration on not blacking out was sucking away her energy.\n\n\"Kris....\" The figure bent down in front of her.\n\n\"Where's Raina?\" Assuming this individual could help find her friend, Kris was still unable to grasp the dire situation.\n\n\"Come on. Get up.\" A hand wrapped around her upper arm and she was yanked to a standing position.\n\nKris steadied herself, coughing. Her breath was labored.\n\n\"I'm here baby. I have the van all ready.\" This time the tone of the voice matched a face in her mind. Blinking, trying to clear her vision, she squinted hard at the person.\n\n\"What the hell are you doing Adam? Get away from me.\"\n\n\"I know where Raina is. She's safe. She's already gone out the south gate. Come on we have to go meet her.\" Adam lied. It couldn't be more perfect. The timing of Kris ingesting the drug was delightful. He had replaced the anti-anxiety pills with a strong narcotic called GHB over a month ago. Kris never locked her windows. The rear window faced the forest, which made for an easy, unnoticed entry. Watching the decline of Kris's behavior over the season and lusting after that Ranger, forced Adam to take deviant measures.\n\nKris always spoke of going off her stupid panic pills but Adam knew her. All her anxieties, sleep problems, family issues. She would pop a pill eventually. And he knew exactly where the little vile of medication was kept. Deep in her trunk. He knew she never bothered to inspect the color or shape of the damn little pills, so substituting them was perfect. Adam had waited day after day but she showed no signs of being on GHB. The date rate drug usually came in a crystalline powder. The tourists that sold the pills to him said it was a new type. The best thing about it was the enhanced sensuality, decreased inhibition, and lapse in memory. All desirable things in Adam's view. If he could just get Kris alone in a vulnerable state, she'd remember why they both were destined to remain together.\n\nBut it took until now for Kris to finally resort to her bottles of drugs. Momentarily he kicked himself for making the choice to play around with Raina last evening. But better late than never for his plan to come to fruition.\n\n\"Come on honey. Let's get going. Raina is waiting, she's really upset she couldn't wake you before.\" Adam spun the situation to his advantage.\n\nGlassy eyed and confused, Kris bore a look of disapproval directly at him. Was he telling the truth? Raina couldn't wake her? Why would Raina take off without her?\n\nClarity began to creep back in her mind. Perhaps the expulsion from her stomach had helped.\n\n\"I have to go find Michael.\" Kris tried pushing him out of the way.\n\nThe sting of that fucking Ranger's name.\n\nAdam swiftly tried persuasion again.\n\n\"I thought you wanted to go find Raina. Kris, come on, we don't have much time. Let's get out of here.\"\n\n\"I'm not coming with you. Fuck off.\" Tripping badly on the rickety steps, Kris winced in pain. Looking down at her knee quickly brought instant dizziness.\n\nSighing loudly, Adam rushed to her side, wrapping an arm around her midsection. Blood dripped from a cut just below her kneecap.\n\n\"Get off me.\" Kris pushed at him. \"Get away.\"\n\nAdam feared he was losing control over the situation. So an alternative plan formed.\n\n\"Okay. Okay, I get it. It's really over between us, you made that clear. I'm only trying to help you now.\"\n\nDid she she hear him correctly? He was admitting something she had worked hard trying to beat into his thick skull for more than a year?\n\n\"That just crossed your mind, now?\" She half grinned at him for a second but faded quickly as her attention turned to a wound on his forehead.\n\n\"What the hell did you do to yourself?\"\n\nAdam reached up, touching the sore bump. Instantaneously it all returned to him. The unpleasantnesses of dealing with uncooperative females. Apparently he had a casualty from his recent tussle with Raina. She was a bit of a hellcat last night. Regaining consciousness after being silenced was way too much for him to tolerate.\n\n\"And you're cut too. Adam, what happened?\" Kris stood but couldn't take her attention off the swollen gash above his right eye. It was swollen and red, almost purple.\n\n\"I was hiking. Above. Ran into some trees.\"\n\n\"That doesn't make any sense. Trees caused all that?\" Kris pointed to his abrasions.\n\nAdam didn't like the inquiry, it was wasting precious time and Kris was becoming more lucid with each passing second.\n\n\"I'll tell you about it later. We need to go.\"\n\n\"Whatever. Never mind, I don't want to hear some fancy tale later.\" Figuring he fell or ran into a building during an alcoholic black out, Kris decided she rather not feed into curiosity, knowing his story would be a big bunch of lies pasted together.\n\nExtra careful down the remaining steps, Adam unnecessarily helped her along the dirt and broken asphalt path. The camp was clearing out. Fewer people hurried around now. Perfect. Adam grasped her hand, leading her to a small deer trail that paralleled the path back down to the dining hall. If he met up with too many people he could lead her down into the ravine and wait out the fucking pandemonium until it was safe to leave with Kris. Whether or not the incompetent assholes were going to be able to link him to Raina, who was so drunk she probably didn't know her name, concerned him greatly.\n\n\"Adam, why the hell are we going off this way? Wouldn't it be faster to go through the roundabout? I thought you said your van was ready?\" Kris chugged along, skipping and stumbling over rocks and branches. She pointed backward as Adam pulled her in the opposite direction.\n\n\"No honey. You want your man, we have to go this way. I saw him. Before I came to get you.\" Adam hoped his intricate work of fiction was being absorbed by Kris. She wasn't resisting too much but he needed to work fast.\n\nKris tried to focus on the narrow trail. Adam gripped her tightly against his side to help speed up the slow progress they were making.\n\nKris thought it odd for Adam to be so agreeable now, when he'd spent the entire season moping around, and in denial about getting back together. Still fighting off waves of sickness and disorientation, it was hard to straighten out her thoughts. Several times Kris saw what appeared to be a big hairy animal standing at the edge of the trees. Or that many people were walking aimlessly through the forest, amongst the shadows and hazy beams of orange light. Surely they would reach Michael soon and get the hell out of the park.\n\n~ ~ ~\n\nMichael flew from one cabin to the next. Pin pointing the area where the actual attack occurred was not hard. Ground debris, leaves, pine needles were all disturbed and some traces of blood were easily spotted now. Daylight had come and still, no traces of the suspect. Loud suggestive thoughts of the perpetrator having escaped the park were clouding Michael's judgment. Although the south gate was the only way out, it would most certainly be clogged with people and exiting would be hindered. More importantly, how would he know if Kris got through?\n\nMichael looked up abruptly as the crunching of footsteps grew near. Laura, the nurse, was running toward him.\n\n\"What is it?\" He quickly met her and started walking in the direction of the ambulance.\n\n\"She's coming out of it. Raina. I think she can answer a few things but she's really confused. Keeps repeating how she has to warn someone.\"\n\n\"I thought they had gone. The ambulance is still here?\"\n\n\"Yes. The driver is apparently obeying your orders to stay until you can question her.\"\n\nHaving gripped the radio so tight his palm was indented, Michael expeditiously made it back to the ambulance. The rear doors were wide open, and one of the paramedics rushed up to him.\n\n\"We need to get her to the hospital as soon as possible. This delay could be costing her permanent damage from this wound. We are limited in what we can do out in the field like this.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I realize that.\" Michael pushed past the irate medic.\n\n\"You have two minutes, and then I'm ordering my driver on!\" The pudgy paramedic waddled up to the front of the idling vehicle then added, \"It's going to take us forever to get through that entrance, in case you haven't heard!\"\n\n\"Asshole.\" Michael mumbled under his raspy breath. He climbed into the back and stared in horror at the blood soaked rags and padding. Raina lay face down. A medic was addressing the large gash in her back.\n\n\"What was she assaulted with?\" Michael asked.\n\nReluctantly the worker responded but continued to attend to Raina.\n\n\"Some type of heavy device. This is a deep penetration. It's rather close to her spinal column.\"\n\n\"What does that mean? She has a spinal cord injury?\"\n\n\"Unclear until she gets an x-ray. Perhaps MRI.\"\n\n\"What about these other bruises?\" Michael inspected the side of Raina's face and neck.\n\n\"Couldn't tell ya. Obvious blunt force trauma.\"\n\n\"From a fall?\"\n\n\"I think we both know you can sustain these injuries from a fall, but I wouldn't speculate that as the cause in this female.\" The medic eyed Michael, suspiciously.\n\n\"Can she hear me?\" Michael moved sticky hair, coated with dried blood away from the side of her face.\n\n\"She's had sporadic consciousness.\"\n\nMichael leaned in close to her. \"Raina. Do you know who I am? Can you hear me?\"\n\nThere was no response. Fearing the driver would take off at any moment, Michael tried again.\n\n\"Raina? Can you hear my voice? I want to help you, but you need to help me first.\"\n\n\"You have to go. . .\" Finally Raina breathed out in a short, choked breath.\n\n\"Go? I will, but I need some information from you. Who did this? Who were you with last night?\"\n\n\"You have to go...get him.\"\n\n\"She's having trouble breathing, I need to get some of that fluid suctioned out.\"\n\n\"Wait, wait just a minute.\" Michael urged at the medic.\n\n\"Who are you talking about? Who should I go get? Raina, give me a name. Just say a name.\" Michael was sure she knew who did this. \"Please try.\"\n\nA tear rolled from the corner of her eye, down her swollen cheek. Her answer was weak and difficult to hear.\n\n\"Adam.\"\n\nMichael slowly sat straight up, grasping the metal bar of the stretcher.\n\n\"Adam? Adam Hoth?\" He took her shaking hand, attempting to calm her, yet he was fast becoming unhinged.\n\n\"You have to go find Kris. She's in great danger.\" The words crept from Raina's mouth, barely audible against the background noise. Her eyes grew blank and her breathing became further obstructed, then stopped.\n\n\"Move.\" The medic ordered, grabbing two paddles attached to retractable cords. \"Now!\" He blasted at Michael. Another paramedic jumped into the rear bay of the ambulance immediately assisting the first medic with turning Raina over so they could apply the defibrillator contacts.\n\nMichael practically fell out of the back of the vehicle, and the doors were pulled shut the moment his feet hit the ground. He could make out through two rear windows the intense effort to resuscitate Raina's unconscious body.\n\nWatching the vehicle pull out, lights flashing once more, but an absence of the siren, Michael took several steps backward.\n\n\"I don't know if it helps, but I was asking Raina how she got away, you know, after the initial attack.\" Laura drew up alongside Michael.\n\n\"What makes you think she got away?\"\n\n\"Oh, well, I guess I was wondering why she wasn't killed like the others?\" Laura frowned.\n\n\"Because -\" Michael's eyes glazed over, watching the emergency vehicle grow smaller in the distance. \"- he intended her to die a slow death.\"\n\n\"Why on earth?\" The color drained from Laura's face.\n\nDisengaged, Michael fled to his truck.\n\n\"Wait, wait, I -\" Laura rushed after him, pulling something from her pocket.\n\nMichael started the engine, but before he could pull the door shut, Laura raced up.\n\n\"I don't know if this means anything to you.\" She held out a large silver key ring that contained no keys, only a little plastic token with tiny inscribed letters, R.D. and a small bottle opener. Leaning over to grab them, he looked perplexed.\n\n\"What are these?\"\n\n\"I found them on her.\" Laura struggled to elevate her voice above the rattle of the diesel engine. Michael's eyes widened, realizing the significance.\n\n\"No keys.\" Laura stated the obvious, and shoved her hands in her pockets. Slowly she stepped backward, away from the truck.\n\n\"What's R.D.?\" Michael called out.\n\n\"Raina Davenport. Nobody else has those initials on staff at this park.\" Laura stretched her voice so he could hear, and then ended up in a fit of coughing.\n\nMichael slammed the gear shift into drive and stomped down on the accelerator.\n\n~ ~ ~\n\n\"Why would Michael be down this way? Tell me again. Adam? Are you hearing me?\"\n\n\"You need to trust me, darling.\"\n\n\"Hard to. I don't feel good.\" Kris rubbed her brow.\n\nThey reached the junction. Further down the trail was Willow Camp, the dining hall, and store. The main valley, meadows and guest camps would be reached by turning right at the junction. Adam yanked her toward a steep, rocky embankment lined with sparkling white granite and a few pine trees growing lopsided between the cracks of boulders.\n\nOld battered signs littered the cliff edge, warning of impending doom. Tourists routinely ignored the warnings, prompting a multitude of calls for search and rescue to come fish them out. Quite often the bodies were never recovered alive. Staffers knew a secret way of traversing precariously to the bottom. The motivation for putting one's life at risk was the secluded section of the Kwoluck River. A pristine stretch of crystal clear water, yet the danger of it's icy grasp and fluctuating rapids did not discriminate in its victims.\n\nIt was a perfect place to wait out the fucking idiots, Adam thought. Plus, the smoke was so thick now, it was getting hard to move, let alone breath. The sharp, narrow cliffs might offer a reprieve from the hazy conditions. If Kris needed to be compromised, he could circle back in a few hours for his van, pick her up, and then drive them both out of there. At the moment too many people made the situation risky. Adam could be identified, and worse, Kris's Ranger-man could throw a fit, destroying the plan which Adam had worked so hard and waited so long to achieve.\n\n\"What the hell are we doing? Willow Camp is down that way.\" Kris pointed to a small valley below. The smoke disoriented her, and she had not noticed the deviation from the main trail.\n\n\"We have to wait.\" Adam dropped his pack next to a trail sign. Crouching down he quickly unzipped a pocket producing a slender plastic device half wrapped in cloth. He shoved the item into his coat pocket. Just a back up plan in case Kris became very uncooperative.\n\n\"Bullocks. It's hot.\" Smug with arrogance and giddy with anticipation of reaching his goal to rid Kris of her stupid delusions, Adam fantasized about the future. In a short while they would be free of this cursed park forever. Kris's behavior would come around, and she would learn that he was the only man for her. Once they reached Matherville, and the apartment he rented, she would remember that fate dictated their future. Of course a heavy cocktail of sedatives to relax her panicky tendencies, would be a major help in his favor.\n\nGrasping his secret weapon, he switched it to a cargo pocket of his pants and shed the jacket onto the ground. While he busied himself un-lashing straps on his backpack, Kris paced back and forth.\n\n\"Where did you say Michael was? Exactly? He was going to meet us at Willow?\" She was coming out of the irritating daze that the medication had placed over her. This illogical trek back down to Willow Camp was wrong. She knew it was all wrong now. Some detail hanging in the back of her mind would not reveal itself. Straining mentally to recall the forgotten piece of information was augmenting her hostility toward Adam and this ridiculous march in the opposite direction. Why had she placed trust in anything that bubbled out of his mouth in the first place?\n\n\"Did you talk to him?\" She strolled over to Adam, hands on her hips.\n\n\"Yes. Sorta. He was in a hurry. Had a lot to do. You're not the only thing on his mind, dearie.\"\n\n\"Then what about Raina? Didn't you say something about her waiting for me at the gate? How long is she going to wait?\"\n\nAdam cockily shoved his hands deep into pockets of his paratrooper pants. Thinking about Raina was quite an aphrodisiac.\n\n\"What's that?\" Kris asked, listening to him jostle what sounded like loose change in his pocket. It had a funny metal clink to it.\n\n\"Just things. I grabbed stuff from the cabin in a hurry.\" Adam tried to sound nonchalant but wound up speaking in an oddly high pitched tone.\n\n\"Level with me, okay? Michael really didn't tell you to bring me to this area?\" Kris tried to ignore Adam's weird behavior.\n\n\"You never believe a word I say anyway.\"\n\n\"Why the hell should I? You act like I keep doing something horrific to you, but I have no solid reason to trust you,\" Kris said.\n\nAdam lugged the heavy pack over his shoulders again, fastening the waist belt.\n\n\"Fire is coming from that direction, Kris.\" He pointed back towards the cabins. \"It's moving southwest. We need to stay ahead of it as much as possible. If we continue down that trail,\" Adam now pointed with a jittery hand to the main trail to Willow Camp, \"we'll be taking in a lot of smoke. What's the first rule in a fire? Don't you remember from elementary school?\"\n\n\"No. I'm tired of your games.\"\n\n\"To get as low as possible.\"\n\n\"So what?\"\n\n\"We need to head into the crevasse.\"\n\n\"You must think I am a real idiot. That would take hours to get down to the bottom.\"\n\n\"No. Not hours.\"\n\n\"I'm not doing this. You go right on ahead Adam.\"\n\n\"Okay. Fine. Good luck finding your lover.\"\n\n\"Well he's surely not down there!\" Kris said.\n\n\"I didn't say he was. But you know this alternate way into Willow just as much as I do. We can breathe without the smoke and -\"\n\nKris rubbed her eyes in total disbelief at what she was hearing.\n\n\"Adam, for fuck sake. This time of year, with the river so high? There isn't going to be any shoreline or bank at all. The water is going to be coursing right against the sharp rock walls.\"\n\nAdam laughed at her dramatic display. But Kris continued.\n\n\"You're going to swim down to camp? I mean that's a nice plan if it were Autumn and the rapids were less.\" She stepped under a large branch from a pine tree for some shade. Even with the shroud of smoke, intense sunlight was bearing down on them. Kris twisted up her hair, wrapping it into a sloppy bun. Cracking a small stick off the tree, she threaded it into her hair.\n\n\"You need to trust me,\" Adam said, growing impatient. \"It's hot, and smoky, and we can get down in the river and cool off while we make our way to Willow. Then, by that time, Michael will be there.\"\n\n\"That's if we can get down to the water without falling to our death, Adam. Hell, the erosion on those cliffs? I'd rather take my chances and run down the main trail at this point. You do what you want. Bye.\" Kris turned and walked away, leaving Adam standing at the edge of the crevasse.\n\nAdam casually patted his pocket containing an item that would come in handy very soon. As he predicted, she was being wild and unpredictable.\n\n\"He won't be down that way.\" Adam called out after her. Kris stopped, arms down at her sides.\n\n\"I think you are just lying. Lying, lying, Adam! Where the hell is he? Tell me now or I'm just going any direction. I don't care. I'll find a way to the south gate on my own.\"\n\nAdam strode up, jostling items in his pocket again. They needed to start climbing down the rocks into the ravine. Time was wasting.\n\nKris watched his foul, cocky expression and tried to assess what was really taking place. She slapped a mosquito on her arm, wiping the remnants onto her pants. Dried blood from the fall on Raina's steps stained her sweats. At that moment she realized she wore the same ratted white tee shirt from the previous night.\n\nLast night.\n\nThat was the detail in the back of her mind that had kept bothering her.\n\nKris thought extra hard. It had been hot last evening. Someone had come over, unexpectedly. Who?\n\n\"What is it?\" Adam could see the torment on her face.\n\nKris only waved a hand at him, trying to shush him up.\n\nMichael had come by. It took several minutes of tracing back through her distorted memory. Her stomach jumped, recalling the activities between them. He had left rapidly afterward. Kris couldn't remember why.\n\n\"Come on Kris. You won't miss him. We'll just go down a little way, it's so much cooler in the rocks than this inferno.\" Adam urged.\n\n\"No. Wait. Okay, okay, I'll go. Just wait and give me a minute,\" Kris grasped at an excuse to bide some time, \"I, I need to go pee.\" She just wanted five minutes alone, out of his intense watch so she could think. For whatever deranged reason, he wanted her down in those rocks. Kris had to stall him without raising suspicion. Something really awful was taking place within Adam's mind.\n\n\"I'll go with you.\" Adam unfastened the pack waist belt.\n\n\"No!\" She yelled at first, but then laughed it off to downgrade her overreaction.\n\n\"Adam, geez. Wait here. I'll be right back. You're right. I agree now. We have to get out of this smoke. I'll go down there, but just give me a minute, okay?\"\n\nAdam stared as she turning around, and walked casually into some thick trees and heavy brush. Listening intently for his footsteps, she felt confident he wasn't following after a minute or so.\n\nOnce in the cooler concealment of the forest, Kris leaned against a tree, trying to recall more details of what took place after Michael left the previous night. Something missing seemed rather crucial. What was it? And why had she awoken in such a drugged state this morning? Eyes growing wide, Kris put a hand to her mouth. She'd taken the pill before going to bed. But before all that, Michael received the call on the radio about another attack.\n\nCold chills ran up her arms. Adam was lying. He had to be. Michael wouldn't of allowed her to leave with him. Not after another attack. And the gash on Adam's head? What did that mean?\n\nDeep in paranoia, Kris didn't hear the soft crunching of footsteps and snap of a branch.\n\n\"Is there some way I can be of assistance to you?\" Adam's voice instantly killed her concentration.\n\nKris realized in a split second she needed to run. Dense underbrush snagging at her feet prevented her escape. Adam reacted fast, grabbing tightly onto her arm.\n\n\"No, no, no. Adam, please!\" Kris begged him. Determined with angry force, Adam dragged her from the forest until they were back on the trail.\n\n\"Fucking tired of this Kris. Why can't you fucking trust me for one goddamn second? I only have your best interests in mind. I'm only here to help you.\" Thick beads of sweat glistened on his forehead.\n\n\"No, okay, Adam, you're right. I just needed a moment.\" Kris held out her hands in protest, trying to remain calm.\n\n\"Bull shit. No more moments. I offered an easy way out of this park, and even then you couldn't fucking trust me. Everything would be fine if you'd just quite trying to make me into the bad guy.\" Adam shoved her down hard and dug a hand into his cargo pocket.\n\nBut in his furry, he forgot which pocket he had the syringe of Ketamine. Damn girl deserved a heavy dose of cyanide for all he cared now. If she was going to be this difficult, then she was going to be sedated.\n\nHead pounding, Adam shoved a hand into his front pocket, grasping onto stray objects. Angrily, he threw them to the ground.\n\n\"What are those?\" Kris struggled to sit up, and then peered at a bunch of loose keys that he had scattered onto the ground.\n\n\"Nothing!\" Jamming his hands into other pockets, he was alarmed to be shaking so badly. Desperate need of alcohol was taking over. But he needed to get the syringe ready.\n\nKris squinted in the bright light. Horrified, she collected each key off the dirt to inspect them in the palm of her hand. Instantly she knew who they belonged to. They were Raina's keys.\n\nAdam spun around to find Kris holding her hand out with the keys.\n\n\"Why do you have all of these?\"\n\n\"I don't know. You tell me.\"\n\n\"They're Raina's. Why do you have them?\" Kris glanced down at the assortment of silver and brass colored keys. Raina had put brightly colored plastic protectors on each one, mostly because she never could remember which key went to her cabin, and which to the dining hall.\n\nAdam only shrugged, not interested in giving an answer that would satisfy Kris.\n\n\"What did you do to Raina?\" Kris shouted, trying to stand as he came nearer.\n\n\"Nothing she didn't deserve.\"\n\n\"You said she was on her way out. Out of the park. What did you do to her?\" Tears began to well up in Kris's eyes.\n\n\"I really don't know. Why don't you ask her the next time you see her.\" Adam inched closer.\n\n\"You're the one.\" She wanted to hear it. He was the deviant attacker. The one brutally killing females. Raping and cutting their bodies. Kris started shaking uncontrollably.\n\n\"Oh very good. Such a smart ass.\" He slid his foot forward in the dirt.\n\n\"You didn't kill her, did you? What did you do to her? Please. Tell me. I'll do whatever you want. I'll go down the ravine.\" Kris motioned to the cliff.\n\n\"I haven't done anything. There's nothing to tell. And your time, is up. I gave you every chance -\"\n\nKris threw the keys at him, bolting to her feet, attempting to run once more. But he grabbed onto her shirt before she could get away. Kris lurched to the ground in a rough landing. She turned over immediately to see Adam standing over her. An odd smile on his face, he grabbed his crotch with a free hand and perversely gave his male goods a gratifying jostle.\n\n\"I've been waiting for this,\" Adam said.\n\n\"No -\" Kris began scooting backward on her elbows, but Adam pounced on top. Breath knocked out of her, Kris gasped but couldn't produce any real sound. Adam worked fast, pinning her arms at her sides with his legs straddled over. He shakily grasped the hypodermic syringe and a small vile of liquid. Quickly breaking the seal and sucking the contents into the reservoir of the syringe, Adam promptly injected the contents into her neck.\n\nThe drug took effect fast enough, and he soon crouched onto his feet. Satisfied to see her cessation of squirming, he disposed of the keys and syringe by chucking them off the cliff. Only a faint clink could be heard as the evidence disappeared down the granite wall.\n\n~ ~ ~\n\nAll Kris could see was thick black sky above. She didn't know if she was awake or in a nightmare. Her muscles were useless, unresponsive.\n\nAdam leaned down onto the ground, peering into her face. Closing her eyes, she mouthed out to him. \"What did you give me?\"\n\nAdam lay down on his side, propping his head up with a hand so he could stare directly into her face.\n\n\"Veterinary anesthesia. Very potent too.\" He pulled a cigarette from his front pocket. \"I could perform surgery on you right now and you'd never know. Isn't that something? I went to great lengths to get this stuff, hoping maybe you'd just cooperate. But hell, this is okay. This will work. Plus, I get to have some fun before you wake up.\"\n\nKris blinked really slowly, hardly able to keep her eyes open. She heard his words, and was terrified beyond reason, but unable to express any movement or sound.\n\n\"You must be tired my love. Go to sleep. I'll be right here when you wake up. You might give some thought to cooperating with me.\" Adam blew a long trail of pungent smoke into her face.\n\nKris was internally screaming for help. For a moment she thought she was indeed able to reach out with her arm. But she could not. The last thing she saw was his depraved grin and unshaven face. And then everything went blank.\nChapter Twenty One\n\nThe Demon\n\nMichael had to assume Adam wasn't going kill her. The demon wanted to possess her, but not end her life. Two possibilities were tugging at Michael. Adam was either hiding with Kris somewhere, perhaps holding her prisoner, or Adam had managed to flee the park with or without Kris. On the presumption Adam was still within park boundaries, Michael headed for the south gate.\n\nThe last ten minutes of wasted time, proved futile. Threatening to expose Beth Taylor and her shady operations disintegrated quickly. She was still under a delusion that this evacuation was unnecessary, yet she had hastily ordered it. Michael wanted all security concentrated at the south gate to prevent Adam's escape. Once again it was a hindrance and too extreme in Beth's view. She wanted armed personnel to guard the administrative offices and the main visitor center.\n\nReaching the gate finally, Michael raced over to three park rangers who appeared to be having a difficult time managing the exodus.\n\n\"I need to prevent a person from leaving,\" Michael said, watching cars stream through the narrow entrance and ranger kiosk.\n\n\"Well how the hell are we supposed to do that?\" One of them yelled angrily at Michael. Low on patience, he grabbed the sorry piece of shit by the collar, yanking him off his feet.\n\n\"Hoth. Adam Hoth? He should be apprehended on sight. He may have a prisoner with him. A female.\"\n\n\"You can't order me to do anything. We're leaving and locking these gates once everyone gets through.\" The puny ranger spat at Michael.\n\n\"Is that so?\" Michael let him drop back to the ground. \"These gates?\" He quickly stormed over to one of the metal bars with a heavy chain dangling from it.\n\n\"We're under Beth's orders. Nothing you can do about it, you stupid tyrant.\" A lanky, pimply faced ranger spoke out. Without a word, Michael ran back to his truck and in less than thirty seconds he returned with a huge pair of bolt cutters. In one swift move he applied the tool to the thick chain, snapping it in half. He snipped apart several more links, and grabbed a large padlock off the ground. Coiling the chain up, he strode back toward the truck but not before pausing in front of the inept rangers.\n\n\"If I come back through here, and find that gate obstructed, I will hunt you down and make sure the next job you have is scrubbing septic tanks under my house. Is that clear?\"\n\nOne of them nodded at Michael, but the other only scoffed, calling him pompous and indignant.\n\n\"If you see Adam Hoth, consider him armed and dangerous.\" And then Michael left. Driving along the soft shoulder of the narrow road, he made way back toward the cabins.\n\nHe shouldn't of left Kris earlier. Why didn't he see that it was Adam all along? Blinded by his affections for Kris, it had lead to dire consequences now. Adam fit all the characteristics of a mentally unstable individual enacting revenge and harm out of a need for control and righteousness. All of it, passed right under Michael's eyes. He would not be able to live with himself if this situation wasn't stopped.\n\nStepping down harder on the gas, he swerved around the winding roads. Finally he slammed on the brakes, skidding into the roundabout. Everything was deserted. Commanding the truck over the embankment, he continued driving erratically until reaching the community area and then the front of Kris's cabin.\n\nBolting up the steps as fast as his legs would allow, he stopped short and fast. The door was ajar. Michael threw off his hat and un-holstered his firearm. Proceeding with caution and an extreme hope she wasn't inside, he creaked the door open with his foot. Aiming the weapon around the darkened room, it was a relief of sorts that she wasn't there. It was likely that the other staff woke her in the midst of the now dwindling evacuation.\n\nOkay. Calm down. Think. Think soldier! Michael couldn't get a grasp on what he was feeling. Never in his life had he faced a search for an individual he loved.\n\nI love her. The thought sank in with a heavy dose of reality. She was alive. Somewhere. She was out in this park. Kris was smart. She would find a way to do what needed to be done. Michael desperately wanted to believe that.\n\nScrambling back to the truck, he tore open a map and started assessing possible areas Adam could hold her prisoner. It wouldn't be far from camp. If Kris put up resistance, Adam would have dealt with quite a struggle. Michael clenched his eyes shut. He needed to make the best guess possible as to where to look. Time was running out and the air was so thick with smoke, he didn't have the luxury of methodical planning.\n\nAdam was smart, devious. He took great care in not attracting too much unwarranted attention. Very likely he would stay clear from others seeing him with Kris. Which ruled out going through the main entrance. There were limited areas Michael could take the truck. He needed to search on foot. The fire was dangerously close to the structures now. Glowing flames could be seen dancing along the tree tops in the distance.\n\n\"Dammit!\" he swore out. Yanking the gear shift into drive, he sped off back through the camps, around the parking circle, stopping and getting out quickly to check the staff showers. He had an itch, a gut instinct. Adam was going to hide and wait out the crowds. The bastard deemed himself smarter than everyone else, so why not lay low until the last minute and then run. The only question was would he panic and leave Kris behind?\n\n~ ~ ~\n\nEyes closed, Kris tried to determine if Adam was nearby. The eerie absence of normal sounds in the forest was alarming her. A thunderous roar in the distance could be detected, although she didn't know if it was the fire or perhaps the aircraft fighting the fire. Her mind was clearing from the drug that Adam injected her with but her body was not her own. Not yet. Unable to move, she tried wriggling her toes. The movement was challenging, but she could do it. Intense heat from the ground kept seeping into her body, creating enormous discomfort. Perhaps her skin was burning off and she couldn't detect it. Sluggishly she opened her eyes. Had it become night? How long had she lay on the ground? Everything seemed massively dark, yet it was hot. Shortly after laying amidst great confusion, she heard his voice.\n\n\"Have a nice sleep?\" Adam plunked himself down on the ground next to her again. Kris strained to keep her vision focused on him, but she groaned in pain, sure that pins and needles were being shoved into her orbital sockets. She tried rolling onto her back, but it was tedious and uncomfortable.\n\nFinally in a sitting position, her eyesight began to clear. Heavy smoke plumes were coming over the tops of the trees in the distance, orange flames dotted the crown of the forest.\n\n\"Adam. Enough. Let's just get out. We are going die here if we don't go,\" Kris said.\n\n\"Get up then.\" The tone of Adam's voice was proud, yet hid some privileged information that surely wasn't good. Gradually Kris wobbly stood. Her feet and legs were partially numb.\n\nAdam watched with great amusement. It was then to her horror she knew why he gloated so oddly. She stared down at her attire.\n\n\"You had your way with me. I guess you got what you finally wanted this season, Adam. Only, you had to coerce, drag and drug me to the edge of hell and then violate me.\" Her mouth and throat were so dry the words sounded scratchy and coarse.\n\n\"Who said anything about that? Hey, baby, I have needs too. I couldn't just let that prick ranger have all the fun. I'm just cashing in on what I'm owed.\" Adam came forth, constricting her in a hug. Being still very weak, she couldn't fight back. But she smelled the unmistakable stench of booze on his rotten breath.\n\n\"You've gotten what you wanted then. So, what the hell are we still doing here?\" Kris tried again to appeal to any remaining sensibilities. One last option was forming in her mind, and it wasn't making a run for it. She knew her legs were hardly able to walk very far, let alone run. If he agreed to leaving, she could possibly regain strength by the time they hit the meadow, at which point she would loose him in the tall grass. One last option crossed her mind, but she desperately hoped the situation wouldn't come to it.\n\nKris pulled the shoulder of her flimsy shirt down, exposing her skin. It wasn't enough. Yanking it down lower she exposed the upper part of her breast. Watching his expression change drastically, she pulled it down further rendering the front of herself naked. Praying her body would stave off the urge to vomit, she slowly licked her lips to add to the deception and fully grab his attention.\n\n\"Interesting. Especially since you were just saying you want to leave.\" Adam observed with growing sexual hunger, but wasn't buying her trickery.\n\n\"Maybe I'm offering things to come later. Once we get the hell out of here.\"\n\n\"Hmm. Nope, I don't think so. Kris, what do I have to do to get it into your head? I'm the smartest man you're ever going to meet.\"\n\nKris pulled the fabric of the tee shirt back around the front, and tied it just above her belly button. Her legs felt weak, unable to even support standing for much longer.\n\nShe hadn't noticed Adam fussing with his pack again. Quickly he produced a folding ax and fully clicked it open.\n\n\"What's that for? I'm cooperating. Just like you asked.\" Kris was so horrified she knew the last option that kept crossing her mind was the only way out. She took a unsteady step backward toward the ravine\n\n\"You're right. We need to get going. But in your shape, we aren't going to get very far. And I'm tired of you and your problems, Kris. The window of your opportunity has come and gone.\" His speech growing more and more slurred. Bouncing the head of the ax slightly against his leg, he crept forward.\n\nKris couldn't even bring herself to bargain for her life. Would he spare it if she collapsed to the ground in sorrow and pledged to worship him for the rest of days to come? Kris was entirely wretched sick of him. If this was the hour of her demise, she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of being the one to end it.\n\n\"Well let me enlighten you just a tad, Adam. I'll tell you why you have to drug, rape and kill women.\" Kris clenched her hands into tight fists against her legs. She was keenly aware of her dangerous position at the edge of the precipice.\n\n\"You have no idea what I'm capable of. What I can -\"\n\n\"I turned to a Ranger for affection because you drove me to it. You said it yourself, you weren't getting satisfaction from me. Maybe your limp dick was too meager for me to even put up with.\" Even if she fell now, there were some ledges and outcroppings that might catch her fall. Adam had the ax in both hands grasping it tightly.\n\n\"Why don't you take that ax and do us all a favor and end your own life? Your existence on this earth serves no purpose. At least castrate yourself so you can't spread any more of that demon seed.\" Kris blasted at him with every last fiber of her twitching body.\n\nAdam lurched forward at her, bringing the ax up high and swinging it as hard as he could. He missed.\n\nKris's foot slipped backward in reaction to the attack. The loose rock beneath her, broke free and she tumbled down. Desperately grasping a handful of roots jutting out of the scree, it prevented her from free falling down the granite shelf. Many of the dry and frail roots broke, unable to withstand the force of her decline.\n\nFinally she manged a rough landing on a few rocky footholds. Pressing her body flat against the granite rock she stuck her fingers into thin cracks and juts, trying to hang on for dear life. Blood poured from her fingers as the fine skin was ripped off from the sharp glacial stone.\n\nAdam approached the edge, his inebriation distorting any last ounce of good judgment. He was delighted to see Kris's feeble attempt to hang on. She was only several feet below the top of the precipice. Adam raised the ax once more and before he could accomplish a fatal blow, Kris closed her eyes and let go.\n\n~ ~ ~\n\nMichael had ruled out various locations. Kris was nowhere to be found. The fire certainly had engulfed the staff amphitheater. Visibility was not more than a few feet, and heavy ash was falling like snow. Overhead was the heavy thud of big helicopters. They concentrated on dropping water into the main camps of White Rock, but the effort was doing little to stop the forward march of such intense fire.\n\nBy the time he got back to the truck, thick black smoke had descended over everything. The girth of the vehicle was too wide to ram it down the trail. With all the thick brush and trees, it would be slow travel anyway. He put it back in gear and reversed direction toward the road.\n\nWillow Camp was his last hope. It was a small valley, untouched by the fire. That would change very soon. Without a direct road into Willow, he would have to locate the hidden service road protected by a barred gate.\n\nUsing the truck's four wheel drive capability he could make it across the boggy meadow and hit the camp straight on.\n\n~ ~ ~\n\nAdam disposed of his pack. It was too cumbersome to carry anymore. It would surely burn up once the fire reached it. After Kris fell down and out of view, Adam became acutely aware of the advancing flames atop the trees. Huge, angry flames over took the forest and the tall pines now resembled giant Roman candles. Time to save his own life. Kris deserved her fate. He was certain it was the right decision and a fitting end to a rather unsettled season at this hell hole of a national park. His focus now was making a run for it back to his van.\n\nCutting through a bunch of high grass and blustering willow trees, he arrive on the east side of the central amphitheater. It was the tourist campfire area. More of a pathetic circle of rotted logs and a crumbling pit in the center. Pulling his shirt over his mouth and coughing violently, Adam trampled over debris, waving off smoldering bits in the air.\n\nFinally he reached his green van. Laying down on his back, he fished for the hidden key under the front driver side fender. It was half stuck. Swearing and maneuvering himself further underneath the car, he heard the rattle of a large diesel engine.\n\nIn his frantic search, Michael thought he might be seeing things that didn't exist. Before careening at break neck speed around the corner, he caught sight of a person running across the amphitheater.\n\nMichael pulled into the diagonal parking strips and jumped out. He chambered his weapon and crept slowly along the passenger side of the van. He couldn't be sure, but Adam reportedly was sighted with a green vehicle such as this one. It was thickly covered with ash. Possibly left by a fleeing tourist.\n\nBy training and instinct he called out.\n\n\"Park official! Don't move! Show yourself now!\" Clearing one side of the car, he moved around the back.\n\n\"Park official! Come out now!\" Michael aimed the .45 caliber firearm at the base of the vehicle, slowly dropping down lower to get a look underneath. A scraping noise caught his attention. Michael quickly bolted to the driver side of the van. Crouching to the ground and aiming the gun, he sighted Adam trying to scoot away. Michael threw down his weapon and grabbed onto Adam's boots, yanking him back and out from underneath the car.\n\nRaining hot ash swirled around them. Michael grabbed hold of Adam's wrist and yanked him to a standing position. Using the backside of his forearm, Michael smashed the foul creature against the side body panel of the van.\n\nMichael picked up his firearm and hammered the barrel of the gun straight into Adam's forehead.\n\n\"Where is she? Tell me now or you're dead!\"\n\n\"That will end your cushy career as a park Ranger, will it not?\" Adam grinned.\n\nWith one hand Michael grabbed Adam's throat, yanking him forward and then slamming his head back against the window of the car. Adam made a feeble sound and slid sideways, in disorientation.\n\n\"I'll repeat myself for the last time. Where is she? Where is Kris and I'll spare your life.\" Michael knew threats would not work with an evil character like Adam, but he had to believe this criminal possessed a will to live.\n\nIf Adam had just come through the east side of the amphitheater, it was possible he was fleeing Willow Camp. What else lay in that direction? It cemented Michael's earlier thoughts about Kris's whereabouts.\n\n\"Is she still in Willow Camp?\" Michael coughed hard. The burning forest and encroaching flames created a deafening sound like a series of thunderstorms.\n\nAdam nodded but not because he wanted to comply with the Ranger, but because he wanted this schmuck to suffer just as he had. Adam lost the only girl he ever totally and completely desired. She was gone and nobody else could have her now. The Ranger wasn't going to make it in time to save Kris. Michael Falkenrath could burn in hell.\n\nAfter cuffing Adam to the handle of the van, Michael clamored back into the truck and maneuvered it over the stone traffic barriers and engaged the four wheel drive system. Veering around the circular arrangement of log benches, he turned sharply around the big fire pit and entered the meadow. Headlights on maximum brightness didn't help much against the deteriorating visibility. Eerie darkness made it nearly impossible to see.\n\n~ ~ ~\n\nSliding at least 100 feet down, Kris reached a mossy covered slope. She had landed on a craggy shelf of rock and plants. Unable to gage how far below until reaching the river, Kris assumed it couldn't be more than another thirty feet. If moss was growing it signaled the damp habitat of the river. But it was smoky in the ravine. Not as bad as above, but still, a thick gray fog prevented her from sighting the terrain below. Usually the river was all white water through this narrow snag. To get a better foothold, she had thrown off her useless shoes. Blood poured from an open cut on her head and a bad gash on her leg. Still faint and lacking muscle strength, she knew climbing back out of the ravine was impossible. She didn't know if Michael was searching for her or not. It difficult to stave off the urge to call out for him. The firestorm was getting closer. Heavy ash was covering rocks and outcroppings, causing them to be very slick.\n\nShe didn't want to give in to the impossibility of getting out of the park. What if the gate was compromised by the fire? And how would she make it over there if she could hardly walk? Kris wanted to believe she still had a chance but logic was causing her to lose hope. If the fire jumped over this ravine and it would because of the dry fuels on both sides, she would surely suffocate.\n\nHalf sliding and half creeping downward, Kris finally reached the water's edge. Following a very narrow margin of land along the river by holding onto drooping bushes and woody tree limbs, she slowly made way until running out of embankment.\n\nThe sharp granite walls plunged straight into the rushing water. Pools gathered along parts of the shore, but the current was very stiff. Kris delayed immersing herself into the water. She was exhausted and needed to rest. Faced with harrowing navigation of the swift river, Kris toyed with laying down, just for a little while. But time was not on her side. If she floated down to Willow Camp successfully, perhaps the phones would still be working in the dining hall. There had to be emergency personnel somewhere. If she could just get to them. Or Michael.\n\nGingerly, she waded her feet into the water, then losing her grasp on the tree roots to which she clutched, her body plunged into the icy river. Dropping below the surface, she hunted for the bottom with her toes, but found nothing. She swam to the surface, gulping for air. As the current carried her on, she peered up at the sky above. Kris was awestruck by thick plumes of white ash falling as if it were snow from the burning sky. Her former dream was perhaps not a dream at all. But a premonition now coming to life. Rocks and tree limbs scrape her legs as she continued down the river. Luckily the current wasn't too compelling. Kris bobbed up and down into the water, her chin skimming the surface. Instead of actually swimming or resisting the movement of water, she let it carry her along its path. The cold water was diminishing the last of her strength.\n\nSubmerged boulders and felled trees pricked and tore at her flesh. Several times her mind became numb and consciousness start to wane. Finally the river split into a fork, several branches trailing off in different directions. Kris kicked her legs and paddled as hard as she could to stay to the right. Successfully she was drawn into the stretch of river that would float her into camp. The marshy shores approached quickly. This was the section where water slowed and became shallow. She could not see the Willow Camp bridge arching over the river due to an absence of light, but trusting her memory that the tall strands of cattails and reeds meant that she was in the right spot and needed to exit the river. After the bridge it would be too difficult to get out, as the trickling section of the Kwoluck would merge with fast moving water and due to a drop in elevation, rapids ensued. Kris paddled weakly to the edge, her feet sank into soft mud making it hard move. Grasping thick grassy reeds, she pulled herself half way onto shore and then rolled her body out of the water.\n\nExhaustion was consuming her. Shivering, she crawled on her hands and knees onto soft, manicured grass. But it was a large sloping hill, and pretty soon the last bit of her strength wore out. Frustrated at knowing the dining hall was not far off, Kris thought perhaps a little rest would reinvigorate her ability to start walking.\n\nMany afternoons she had sat eating her lunch and enjoying a good book on the shore of this river. But she couldn't stand up now, and sitting seemed next to impossible as well. It was a curious thing, she discovered, laying on her back and staring blankly at the sky that didn't exist anymore. Against better judgment, Kris closed her eyes.\n\n~ ~ ~\n\nMichael tugged at the heavy wooden doors to the Willow Camp dining hall. As he shoved several keys into the locks of the heavy old door, it occurred to him, this was where he and Kris first met. It all started with a impromptu meeting and a lanky, wide eyed girl with hair so white it was practically iridescent. She portrayed an intriguing false innocence and soft spoken attitude that melted his stubborn heart of steel.\n\nThoughts visualized before him, as he tried frantically to get the doors open, until it occurred to him that if they were locked, Kris certainly wouldn't be inside. But he had to make sure. Adam could of locked her in for all he knew. Grasping his firearm from his hip, he stood back and put several rounds into the door. With the lock destroyed, he finally creaked open the heavy doors.\n\nCalling her name as loud as possible, Michael rapidly searched through the open hall, the dining area and then back around to the kitchen. Nothing. Nobody was here. Opening closets and restroom doors, a sinking desperation started to grab hold of Michael.\n\nKris, where are you? He knew the strong likelihood was that Adam hid his prize. If he couldn't have Kris, nobody would.\n\nBroken plates and serving trays littered the floor creating a crunching sound under his boots. Back outside a forceful downdraft sent him under the overhang for cover. It was so dark now structures and objects were unrecognizable. To his left was an ash coated trail leading to the river and a small foot bridge. Beyond that was a guest store.\n\nMaybe she was hold up in the little stone store. It was a shack with walls made of granite boulders from the park. It was a long shot, but he had to check. First, Michael ran back to the truck. He switched the headlamps on just in case he couldn't find his way back in the blackness. Then he pulled the bucket seat back, grabbing a high intensity flashlight and started off along the trail.\n\nAiming the light in a sweeping motion, he scanned the ground for any signs of footsteps or indications of someone who had recently passed through the area. But it was useless, everything was covered with heavy ash and it was building up fast. Michael stopped suddenly at a bench and tore off his brown shirt, quickly ripping the fabric and tying pieces across his nose and mouth.\n\nCrossing the bridge, he directed the light down below, checking underneath. It was a small bridge. The larger crossing was down river. He swore softly, reaching the darkened stone hut. Pressing the flashlight up to the window, he strained to get a good look inside. Again, the building was locked.\n\nHe coughed hard, doubling over trying to get clear air into his lungs. Righting himself, the intense glare of flames immediately captured his attention. The heat was insufferable. The thatch roof of the store was starting to smoke from hot cinders landing on the top.\n\nThere was one more camp, with tents and tee-pees below. But why would Adam bring her all the way over there? It would have been full of people when the evacuation order came.\n\nPerhaps the pond. There was a small holding pond back near the dining hall. Logically speaking, she wouldn't be there. But he was out of options. There was no place left to search.\n\nRetracing his steps carefully, Michael called out desperately for her.\n\n~ ~ ~\n\nKris opened her eyes but her face was strewn with ash. Heaviness in her limbs and disoriented, she forced herself up off the grass and began walking. Perhaps it was the drug, Adam administered, producing yet another hallucination, but moments prior, she saw a faint light in the distance, then it disappeared. Were people still in camp?\n\nKris's throat was so raw she couldn't swallow. Her mouth was full of a gritty substance. But just in case the light wasn't a hallucination, she called out as best as she could.\n\n\"Hello!\" Taking a breath, her airways irritated and clogged with abrasive dust, she yelled out again and again until her voice went silent. Now only a raspy sound came out. She collapsed to the ground.\n\nMichael stopped. Either his brain was playing tricks or someone had just yelled out. Spinning around, he aimed the light in the direction from which he just checked. Nothing. Scanning the light in a 360 degree motion yielded nothing. A bright orange glow was descending upon the the camp. The fire was here.\n\n\"Kris!\" Coughing radically, he called several more times, aiming the light into the ash and floating embers.\n\nKris gathered all her might and got to her feet, stumbling forward. She demanded her legs start working and carry her. It couldn't be a dream. The voice was real. It was close by, but where? Orange light and deafening noise prevented her from identifying anything.\n\n\"Kris!\" Michael called one last time, holding the flashlight between his knees, and cupping his hands around his mouth for maximum effect. He listened intently for a response, but only the loud crackling of pine trees being consumed by the fire answered. He grabbed the light, and swung it around one last time. He narrowed his eyes to sharpen what he caught as slow movement coming out of a plume of ash and smoke.\n\n\"Kris!\" He ran toward the willowy figure emerging down a small hill. And then the shadow collapsed.\n\nRacing forth, he skidded to the ground.\n\n\"Kris.\" He picked her up gently. She was unable to walk so he lifted her into his arms, cradling her. Spitting out heavy dust and ash from his mouth, he kept talking to her, trying to comfort her, not knowing if she could hear him or not.\n\nHer clothes were wet and she had bruises and abrasions all over. Finally reaching the truck, he lay her on the front seat and strapped a seat belt around her. Michael climbed into the driver side and shoved the key into the ignition and forcefully turned it. Nothing happened. He tried again. And then again.\n\nWas the battery drained from keeping the lights on this whole time? He glanced down at Kris's ravaged body and coagulated blood on the side of her head.\n\nSwearing at the top of his lungs, he attempted the ignition again. This time it stubbornly turned over, sputtering badly but cranking good enough. Michael revved it hard. Glancing in the rear view mirror, the fire was practically lapping at the tailgate of the truck.\n\nDriving across the meadow, puddles of water reflected the intense orange glow of the fire. It was engulfing almost everything. Safe for the moment in the soggy stretch of meadow, Michael wondered if they could even reach the gate at this point. Once at the amphitheater, the tires bounced back over the barriers and Michael slammed his foot down hard on the brake. The truck skidded sideways to a halt. With the engine running, he jumped out.\n\nOne last detail to wrap up before exiting this hell.\n\nGrasping his gun with both hands and a finger on the trigger, Michael came around the back side of Adam's van. It was appropriately entombed with charcoal ash and glowing embers. Adam was going to jail. Michael was going to drag him there, making him face the proper authorities to answer to his string of sick crimes. Justice would be better served by killing the worthless piece of scum, but Michael knew Adam's real pain would be a lifetime of imprisonment with other degenerates.\n\nBut apparently Adam had other ideas. A set of open handcuffs hung from the door handle. In disbelief, Michael grabbed them for closer inspection. The locks were jimmied on each cuff. Perhaps Adam had left the open cuff hanging so ominously on the door handle as if to send a message to Michael. That he had attained the upper hand on the situation, not authorities.\n\nClimbing back in the cab, Michael roared the truck out of the parking area and toward the abandoned south gate. He did not hesitate or stop, blowing past the fee booth. A huge cloud of ash and smoke trailed behind them as the truck rumbled down the road leading out of White Rock National Park.\n\nMichael picked up his cab radio and called in an all points bulletin for Adam Hoth. He warned local authorities about the last known location of Adam and that he was probably armed and dangerous. Clicking the little unit back onto the console, Michael smoothed Kris's bloodied hair back from her face. She had cuts and bruises on her cheeks and near her eyes. A small moan drifted from her.\n\n\"Don't worry now. It's over.\" He spoke softly and sped on.\nChapter Twenty Two\n\nA small television with the volume turned low, displayed horrific flames and a slurry of news crews positioned at the south gate entrance to the park. Dim fluorescent lights flickered above a small nursing station.\n\n\"Have you seen this?\" A busy medical receptionist reached up to shove a thick tan folder into an over stuffed shelf. She motioned to the TV as another nurse with squeaky shoes got closer.\n\n\"Somethin' ain't it?\" A plump brown haired nurse with a soft southern drawl came up to the counter. Placing several clipboards with patient charts attached, she lent her attention to the fiery scene on the screen above.\n\n\"Is that where the girl in 217 came from?\"\n\n\"Yeah, I think so.\" Tired from a long shift at the Ceder Valley Memorial Hospital, the receptionist leaned back against the inner counter, casually crossing her arms and letting out a long yawn.\n\n\"Oh, speaking of which, you can take her IV out. Dr. Searle came by an hour ago, said she can go home in the morning.\"\n\n\"Okay. Lucky for her.\" The plump one chuckled.\n\n\"I'll say. Have you seen that guy that she came in with?\"\n\n\"I surely did. A Ranger or something.\"\n\n\"Gorgeous.\"\n\n\"You don't need to tell me.\" The nurse laughed and then shuffled off, squeaking down the hallway.\n\n~ ~ ~\n\nKris winced slightly when a small tube was removed from the vein in her hand. The nurse was void of talk, but went about her job with ease and efficiency. Slowly peeling back strips of white medical tape, the woman instructed Kris to hold a piece of cotton to the intravenous site, then quickly she placed a bandage over.\n\n\"Doctor says you can go home in the morning. He'll come by shortly.\" She flashed a polite smile and dropped the deflated fluid bag into a garbage with a red top and yellow warning label.\n\n\"Is there anything you need?\"\n\nKris shook her head at first.\n\n\"Wait. Did you see a tall guy in a uniform out there by chance?\" Kris sat up.\n\n\"Well, there was someone like that earlier. But I think he left.\" She smiled a chubby grin.\n\nKris wearily lay back against the white sheet of the hospital bed. Michael was probably very busy with the investigation. For all she knew, he'd gone back into the park.\n\nSleepy and about to close her eyes, the ceiling lights flickered on and a doctor wearing a long coat streamed into the room. He was engrossed with several papers clipped to a blue board. Swiftly he slapped it down on a metal tray with wheels. Unwrapping a stethoscope from his neck, he wasted no time in attending to Kris.\n\n\"Good.\" He took her wrist between his fingers, feeling for a pulse. He applied brief pressure until satisfied, and flashed her a polite grin.\n\n\"Okay then. Can you swing your legs over the side? I need to get a look at your head.\"\n\nKris did as he asked. The neatly dressed doctor unraveled a long bandage from around her head. He took a few moments to examine the gash and then re-dressed the wound.\n\n\"Leave that on for a few days.\"\n\n\"Okay.\" Kris could see out the door and down the hall. Few people wandered about.\n\n\"I know it's tempting to wash your hair. Just give it several days. The sutures will dissolve by themselves. No need to come back unless you are having a lot of pain or something changes, okay?\"\n\n\"Okay.\" Kris replied in a shallow voice.\n\n\"I'm releasing you in the morning. Here's a prescription for some pain killers.\" He scribbled quickly on a pad produced from a large pocket of his white coat. Ripping off the square note, he laid it on the tray.\n\n\"Anything else?\" He glanced at her with tired a expression.\n\nKris thought a moment. Something had bothered her since waking several hours ago.\n\n\"Actually. There is.\" Kris gazed down at her hands in her lap. The doctor walked back into the room.\n\n\"What can I help you with?\"\n\n\"The drugs I was, uh, given. . .\"\n\n\"The ones that were in your system when you arrived?\"\n\n\"Yeah.\" Kris wrung her hands together, almost unsure she wanted to hear the truth.\n\n\"Yes, okay.\" The doctor flipped through some notes.\n\n\"I guess I wanted to know if they will have long term effects? Would they have damaged me in some way?\"\n\n\"I see. No, you should return to good health. Give it some time though. What we found in your system isn't anything that could of caused long term harm.\"\n\nKris nodded. Fear had morphed into an uncomfortable reoccurring anxiety. She needed the doctor to tell her that she'd be okay. At least medically. And perhaps this horrible nightmare would dissolve into oblivion.\n\nEvery time she imagined Adam's face lying on the ground and grinning at her while she was so helpless, just produced a ghastly knot in her stomach and a tightness in her throat.\n\n\"You might feel drowsy and weak for the next several days. Drink plenty of water and get some rest,\" the doctor said. \"Good luck to you.\"\n\nKris watched his long white coat slightly waft out from behind as he strode off.\n\nShe curled up on her side and faced the wall. Shutting her eyes tight, she tried to forget everything.\n\n~ ~ ~\n\nMichael brought the edge of a paper cup to his mouth, taking several long sips of hot coffee. It seemed like a crime to wake her. Her side barely rising and falling with each slow breath. He pulled up a chair with a worn fabric seat and sank into it. Unfortunately the chair had seen better days and made a hideous creaking sound. It was loud enough to rouse Kris from sleep. Groggily peering over her shoulder, her eyes grew wide and a large smile spread across her face.\n\n\"Michael.\" She mouthed and sat up.\n\n\"No, lay down.\" He gently coaxed her back to the reclining hospital bed. A small giggle escaped her as she stared at him.\n\n\"What's that for?\" He asked.\n\n\"You're wearing regular clothes.\"\n\n\"Ah. That I am,\" Michael said.\n\nA calm came over Kris as she gazed at him in jeans and a plain white tee shirt.\n\n\"You've seen me without my uniform before. How fast you forget.\"\n\n\"I haven't forgotten.\" Kris softly responded and then yawned. \"What time is it?\"\n\nMichael glanced at his watch. \"It's late. You need to sleep.\"\n\n\"You're going to leave?\"\n\n\"Not if you don't want me to.\" Concerned, he ran his fingers along her arm. Michael crossed the room and grasped the edge of a drape attached to the ceiling with little rollers. Giving it a quick tug, the curtain swished around, encasing the bedside area.\n\n\"Have you seen Raina?\" Kris asked.\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"She giving them all a hard time?\"\n\n\"Oh you could say that.\" Michael shut off the lights and sat on the edge of the bed.\n\n\"But she'll be okay?\"\n\n\"I would assume so. Don't worry about her.\"\n\nKris felt for his hand and he gently took it.\n\n\"You know what am going to ask next,\" Kris said.\n\nMichael took a deep breath, and reached for his coffee.\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Where is he?\" Kris barely mouthed the words, her puffy eyes gazing up at him.\n\nMichael knew it better to come right out with it. Knowing Kris, she wouldn't allow this question to go unanswered. And she deserved an answer.\n\n\"Please tell me.\" She touched the side of his leg.\n\nMichael motioned for her to scoot over. Kris turned onto her side, returning to face the drab wall. Michael joined her on the bed, spooning alongside.\n\n\"He was handcuffed to that damn car. I left him there at the amphitheater to go back to Willow Camp one more time.\" Michael slowly played with strands of her hair as he described what had happened. \"After I got you in the truck I came back to pick him up. He was gone.\"\n\n\"He's still gone? Not in custody?\" Kris needed to know.\n\n\"He's not in custody. I don't know where he is.\"\n\n\"That rat bastard always said he could pick a pair of handcuffs.\"\n\n\"We'll find him.\" Michael grew serious.\n\n\"What is this we business?\" Kris spouted.\n\nMichael kissed her neck. \"Absolutely right. I'll find him.\"\n\n\"Still wrong.\"\n\n\"They'll find him?\"\n\n\"You got it. Why on earth are you responsible?\" Kris closed her eyes, enjoying the warmth of Michael's body engulfing hers. The hospital was freezing and no amount of blankets had helped.\n\n\"So I'm out of a job I suppose,\" Kris said.\n\n\"That reminds me. There's something I need to ask.\" Michael wrapped a hand around the front of her waist.\n\n\"Oh yeah? Does it involve a ring or something foolish?\"\n\n\"Heck no.\"\n\n\"Okay, then ask away.\"\n\n\"How do you feel about Alaska?\" A thread of amusement ran through his voice. He cinched her closer.\n\n\"Boy. I don't know about that. There's a lot of bears there, I hear.\"\n\n\"And a lot of long cold winters.\" He kissed her shoulder.\n\n\"Hmm. What do you plan on doing there?\"\n\n\"I think they might need a Ranger.\" He fought to remain humorless.\n\n\"Then okay, let's go first thing tomorrow.\" Kris breathed out, starting to fall asleep.\n\n\"Why the hurry?\" He whispered.\n\n\"We need to get you back in a uniform. Don't know if I can live without that uniform.\"\n\nDrifting off into a delirious sleep, Kris's body finally let go and relaxed. Michael heard faint steps in the hallway, then a pause. Whoever it was graciously clicked the door shut. Soon after, Michael gave in to sleep as well.\n\nThe End.\n\nLaws Change; people die; the land remains.\n\n\\- Abraham Lincoln\nAbout The Author\n\nMcKenzie started writing short stories in elementary school, and grew to love reading and writing romance as a shy tomboy growing up in the Bay Area of California. She enjoys the outdoors with her two active Labrador Retrievers. McKenzie has spent a great deal of time hiking, exploring and developing a passion for the Sierra Nevada Mountains. After living in rural Nevada for many years she turned her attention toward the Rocky Mountains of Montana, where today she calls home. When she isn't writing or illustrating, McKenzie spends time woodworking and fishing.\n", "meta": {"pile_set_name": "BookCorpus2"}}
{"text": " \nThe Wings\n\nof a Broken Bird:\n\nBy Christine Wood\n\nCopyright © by C Wood 2020\n\nAny resemblance, to people, events, and places,\n\nWritten within the pages of this book, is purely coincidental.\n\nAs this is a work of total fiction, all characters depicted in this work of fiction.\n\nThis e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.\n\nThis eBook. May not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this, book and did not purchase it, or it wasn't purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.\n\nWarning: I am a hopeless dyslexic, and please bear that in mind when reading, I have had them Grammar checked. Please focus on the story and if there are major issues please let me know...\n\nAlso UK & US are minefields of miss matched grammar.\n\nTyre vs. Tire & my favourite Arse vs. Ass\n\nChapter 1:\n\nI am on my way to see my mother, a task I have rather successfully put off doing, until now. I am heading to see her with Jess, my daughter. Who thankfully has had enough in her life to distract her from talking about my mother much, though she did ask, and I say thankfully again, because it was no more than a handful of times that her name was mentioned too. Jess, she was smart and could see it pained me to talk about her grandmother not being around or even why that was, and because of my daughters very intelligent, caring and thoughtful mind, I was blessed with never having to explain the whys and wherefores of my mother never being a part of her life.\n\nAlas all good things come to an end eventually, things generally do, as I have found to my own personal cost many times in my life. I watch as my hyper and very deep thinking daughter is chewing her pen and doing her umpteenth list of questions to ask her grandmother. I guess as I have never spoken about her, she has a right to ask the source of my loathing the questions she did not want to ask me. Though it was my idea she wrote the damned list, I do dread those questions being asked by Jess, and there will be plenty when eventually they do meet. If they meet, Mother may not turn up, as she did many times when I was growing up. I will not have Jess hurt by my mother, as I was.\n\n\"Mom, when we get there, will Grandma like me?\" Now do I be honest with my girl, or do I dash her hopes and tell her I thinks she is up to no good, or do I lie to protect her? I play the good mother and lie and hope to God my mother has changed.\n\n\"She will love you Little Bird, after all what's not to like? You're smart, independent and very beautiful. You have all the qualities Grandma likes in people.\" I know my mother does love these qualities in a child, because she told me often enough that I lacked them. Jess, she's a bright young lady and she will see through my mother's games, and I will be there to catch her when my mother ruins Jess's dreams, and she will. This dream is about having her beloved great-grandmother back once more. Alas my mother, unlike her mother, isn't a nice old woman, she is nothing like my beloved grandmother, who is known or rather was known as Grandy to me and Duchess to Jess.\n\nYou can't really tell a fifteen year old about things she has never had or witnessed in her life before, especially things concerning me and that woman. There were good things about her, pre-me, that Jess could be proud of, many things actually, because my mother was a once great actress. So Jess had at least this to look forward to talking to her about. It's what came after her fall from grace that is not easy to talk about, I have never spoken about my mother's problems, because I didn't need to, it's out there on the super highway. Stories about how she became just another has been actress, a washed-up, drunken and drug taking prostitute, to name a few of my mother's demons. She could have changed, and I really have to hope she has. I don't relish having to dash my daughter's illusions before I have to. I'm sure Mother will do that with no help from me, she has past form for it, losing it in public and in great style too.\n\nShe went spectacularly mad before my birth, when news of her habitual drug taking, whilst pregnant, hit the newsstands, and she had a very public breakdown. One which had her locked away until after she gave birth to me, she was sectioned by Grandy, to ween her from those same said drugs, drugs, that thanks to her I was born addicted to. After she had me they passed me over to Grandy to raise, they had to, as she wanted to drown me as soon as she saw me, as all little bastards should be, and she kept the threats to drown me coming, and for many years too. Though these threats Grandy got, they were never in the flesh threats, no that would have meant her coming to see me.\n\nWe were however treated to the occasional strange telephone threats and those very wordy letter threats, when she was off her meds, or high. Grandy's determination to keep her out of both of our lives wasn't a task she had to do with great gusto either, as mother never bothered to come to see us when her life was perfect, but when it hit the flusher, boy did we know about it, and she did it rather successfully over the years too, hit the flusher? I think we met that mother about a dozen times as I was growing up, and it was during those visits that I was told I was nothing to her but a disappointment, and that was fine, the feelings were reciprocated by both Grandy and I, because to me, she was and still is nothing but a name on a birth certificate to me. Sad but true, disappointment does breed contempt. That bumper sticker was at least in my case, true.\n\nIt was such a shame too, because before my birth, she was the highest and most in demand Hollywood actress the studio had, and her films made money for everyone. With eight big films under her belt, good films too, ones that gave her a countless number of awards and accolades. Which now adorned her shelves, even Grandy said she was something spectacular to see, and I have to admit the movies I saw of Mommy Dearest, yes, she was good. What happened to change her nobody knew, a jilted lover, one sniff to much of the white powder or a breakdown? She, it seems, became bad overnight and just months before my birth. What happened to change her I can't imagine? I know the film she did in Ireland, the same film where she met my father, was her last good film and I know, because Grandy still has the awards she got for it.\n\nAfter filming wrapped, my mother stayed on in Ireland, because she was having a fling with the married lead actor, so they had stopped on in the house Grandy owned there. They were inseparable and stopped there whilst waiting for the film to be finished off in editing and production. They were apparently blissfully in love, but something changed her whilst she was stopping there, that was all Grandy said. She refused to talk to Grandy about it, but I was sure Grandy knew what it was, but never said and she took the secret to her grave. Whatever it was turned my mother into a bad person. She drank heavily, even whilst pregnant with me. So much so, she didn't know she was having me and it was too late to terminate.\n\nThe married actor wasn't fooled into thinking I was his and he dumped her pretty quickly after she told him she was having his child, that was not possible, because he'd had the chop. So she was left on her own and desperate and used harder drugs to rid herself of me, which was why Grandy had her locked away, and which was why I was to be brought up by my Grandy. Something I'm thankful for and as it was, she was no great loss in my life. She was an expert at throwing away a good thing in her life, preferring the demons she courted instead.\n\nMommy, she chose then to marry for money instead of working for it, and she picked up rich ex's, husbands, many rich fiancés and many rich married lovers. She got rich men in great quantity and in many various lands too, and most whilst holidaying on her yacht. There was it seems more than sightseeing done for her on holiday, she picked up a gullible rich man wherever she went. My mother was up to at least husband number seven in her ex-husband collecting, this hobby, job career, call it what you want, this alone had made her a very wealthy woman, which was good, I guess? It has given her a nice nest egg, supposedly a nest egg for her to enjoy in her golden years, all those thirty pieces of silver, from those gullible men, garnered her nothing but loneliness. All that money and yet it never seemed to bring her any happiness and as it turned out, Karma was indeed keeping an eye on my mother, because that easily got money was easily lost too.\n\nSome years later, she got a sudden life boost if you will, she was offered the role to bring her back her fading fame in a great way, with that great role came a great script, an amazing cast and crew, she had a way back to her much yearned for stardom. We were treated to a phone call telling us to expect people knocking on our door for stories, we were shocked that she was even up for the role, but happy for her to have her new moment. It would mean she left us alone. Alas that never happened, why we were surprised God only knows? Her much publicised come back role in that great new movie, backfired with drastic consequence to her personally, to her finances and to her health. Despite the much publicised re-launch of her once glittering career, it never came to fruition, despite her telling anyone who would listen the next Oscar was hers, though she got the film role that would, if she had not messed it all, it could lead her back to the once many red carpet appearances and allow her talent to shine once more.\n\nSo, when she was fired from the movie, she did something vengeful and something that, had I been her, I would not have started, she decided to sue them for dropping her from it. It was such a big mistake on her part, because they came prepared to take her on in court, rather than bankrupt the movie, they trashed her publicly. I never understood her bringing such a frivolous case, they were stupid in even trying, they should have just taken the film company offered her, which was nothing to sniff at, for less than a two weeks on the set. She should have grabbed the settlement and moved on, but no, she wanted the publicity the case would bring, or rather her son and my half-brother Declan did. Why they bothered even starting it I don't know, because everything about the film producer's reasons for firing her, were true? When she inevitably lost, the studio counter sued for their costs and they won, they won because of her failure to declare her on-going mental health and associated drug problems. She had not got a leg to stand on.\n\nShe'd only got the role because Declan had a medical report faked, one which Mother needed to pass, it needed to show she was free from drugs and clean, they both knew there would be no film without it. The studio, they took her on and regretted it almost instantly, she was as I said, two whole weeks into filming and started having problems and they had to replace her, they couldn't lose thousands upon thousands of dollars for each day she was laid up in her trailer feeling unwell. Was she so naive to think that they wouldn't check everything when she started to fall apart, they did and that's when Declan sued them for dropping her? I suspect it was madness and or greed on his part, who knows why they did it but those two idiots? The paperwork and medical documents that the studio produced, let's just say they were very good and they ruined her, embarrassed her and drove her into hiding, because not only did they show her to be a habitual drug user and drunk, but they revealed all of her past misdemeanours, and shock horror, all about her arrest for soliciting, which was a shock for Grandy too, she knew some things and not the others.\n\nYes, she lost the case, and after all her dirty washing was aired in public, not only did she lose her last chance to get some easy money, she not only lost that, but she also lost what little reputation she had left, but she also lost her credibility, that film and her son's actions cost her dearly. It all backfired so very horribly for her. Losing the case cost her millions in legal fees, both hers and theirs, but it also ruined her making money from simply being her, her money in the prior years before the film, was made from selling herself as a public figure, after all there weren't many millionaires courting her, so the money she made from her weddings and her glamorous life, that too stopped coming in, because her life then lacked credibility.\n\nSo then she became a recluse, pretty damn sharpish after that. That court case was her last big splash on the world too. She had all too often courted the mad, bad publicity machine of the press and television news, she had always been happy to sell her latest wedding to a magazine. She had ridden the publicity train most of her acting life. Then when it unceremoniously dumped her at station unknown, she disappeared into her other world and out of mine too! I'll give her, her dues, she knows when to quit, because she did the quitting so well and failed often: as a mother, a daughter, a film star and at being a loyal wife, though she succeeded in being a drunk and drugged up has been. I may be a little bitter towards my mother, for some strange reason... Jess is asking questions again and I have to wonder when will she ever stop? I laugh inside, not until she knows everything, that's when.\n\n\"She's taken her sweet time replying to my letters, why the change in heart Mom?\" I shook my head, I don't know my mother, nor her reasons for us demanding we come and see her. I had to wonder why the change had come about too. My mother had never asked to see Jess or me in the last fifteen years and she had hardly seen me in the nineteen years prior to Jess's birth either. I'd had the odd weekend at the castle in Scotland, or the occasional trip to her latest husbands place with Grandy, when she was happy, but I'd had nothing since having Jess, and I mean nothing, not even a card or a phone call to say congratulations.\n\nJess had never asked about my mother much, as it made me unhappy, nor did she ask much about her father either, well not in any detail anyway, she heard things but not from me, not from the horse's mouth, so I was shocked when she unexpectedly asked me about them and she said wanted to know, warts-n-all. I know why Jess had the sudden need to know all about her hidden family, a class project was the reason for the sudden interest in her roots. She said they were doing a family history tree in school and she asked for the 'warts-n-all version' not the muted one she got from those she had already asked. I always said, when she was old enough to understand, I would tell her everything, it wasn't a secret, she just never asked. It was the day I had dreaded forever and when she asked about them, that day it was finally here. I'd always told myself that when the day came, I would tell her everything, but when it did, I chickened out and I just told her the need to know things.\n\nI don't have any regrets of how my life has panned out and in the most, it's been fantastic apart from one major happening in my life, a happening that caused many horrific aftershocks for me and my family, which were far more devastating than the happening itself. My earthquake lead to a horrid tsunami of total devastation for me and it wiped me out and made the rebuilding of my life so much harder to do. My fresh start had to be done on sandy ground, unfortunately for me there were patches of quicksand there too and it swallowed me feet first and the more I struggled, the more bogged down I became, but thankfully I had many ropes thrown to me. They pulled me out of my bad place, kicking and screaming, my little girl, Jessica Jay Bird, was the best thing I clung on to.\n\nTelling my daughter about her father, added a little more regret to my life. I regretted that I had lied to my daughter for the first time ever, when we had the 'who she was' talk. Yes, I lied when it came time for telling her the warts-n-all about him, instead I told her he was just a drunken onetime thing I'd had with someone, someone I did not remember, there was no name, no photos nothing at all, it had happened because I was drunk. I had never done that to her before, lied.\n\nAs the words slipped from my mouth, my heart sank. I had told her I was drunk at a university party and had unprotected sex with someone, even possibly more than one person, and so I hadn't a clue her father was. That was one hell of a big regret, my need to lie to her about her father. I added that one to the biggest regret ever, not telling Ben who was her wonderful, loving, caring and beautiful father, who was also in the same breath, a cheating, lying waste of a man, a man who broke my heart and made it impossible for me to love again.\n\nLoving him was the quicksand that kept me bogged down. I couldn't move on from him, because he was my first love and my one true love. When you fall in love as we had done, quickly and deeply, and for it to end suddenly, without a chance for more, it was just too hard to move on from, because our love was all-consuming. Unfortunately for me, it did not diminish as I got older and as all those years passed me by, the pain I felt at his betrayal lessened slightly, but my love for him it was still there and as strong as it ever was.\n\nHow I wish I could just wake up and not remember him, one morning would be enough, but not a chance in hell, I had a constant reminder to feed every single one of those mornings, because his double was sat across from me at the breakfast table and her smiling face looked back at me, with his same beautiful eyes and his dark hair, she had his funny little leave me alone temper and his concentration, she was him in everything she did, my angel lived on through her.\n\nI should have told him he was going to be a father before he died. Should-a, could-a, would-a, oh how I wished I had. Yes... I knew who her father was because I'd only ever slept with him, and we had been together for only ten months. Ten wonderful months, when I found myself pregnant, and after learning about his betrayal, I was understandably a little confused when he died. Even now my feelings are a mess, love and hate are in the same breath as hurt and happiness, there was also my loyalty and his betrayal in my head too. I always asked Grandy do they always go together hand in hand, being sad yet happy? I will tell Jessica one day the whole truth, one day when I think she can handle it. Hahaha, who am I trying to kid, that's more likely to be when I think I can handle it, she's a smart kid. She's smarter than I was at her age.\n\nI wasn't spoken to for almost a week, after I told her that her mother was a slutty party girl, who never asked for her father's name. She didn't ignore me as such, but there were none of our usual Mom and Daughter chats in the evening because she was processing it all. She did exactly as her father did, she went away, thought about it and came back. She came back with more questions, and she expected answers, but not about her father, I think finding out I didn't know killed her respect for me a little that day, hell it killed mine too. She did come back with questions, but about her grandma.\n\nI'd always told her the bare minimum about my mother too, but she was easier to research thanks to the internet, thankfully not having her father's name hampered her efforts there. She wanted to know then about the great Daniella Gabriella Ware-Kullberg, the once great actress and now, she was a surprisingly much acclaimed author, who had written a farce of a book that she claimed to be her memoirs. Why did I ever buy the damn book again, because it had brought her back into my world, and along with it, the damned questions, about why was I not in it more? Being her daughter, yes, she had really skirted over the fact that she had me, a hard thing to ignore in your memoirs, but she managed quite well. I get a passage or two of a mention and there's the odd photograph, some of which I had taken, and she had used.\n\nI was referred to as the mistake offspring of her hour long tryst, with a Red Indian stunt rider, one she'd simply had drunken sex with, in her trailer and one who's name had escaped her. She waxed lyrical about its being just the once, during the film she was making, but once was enough to impregnated her with his spawn. She had with him, produced a now estranged half-blood Red Indian daughter, a daughter who preferred to live with her father, playing with the other raggedy arsed Indians on the reservation. Yes very lyrically and incorrect, because none of us were raggedy arsed anything. She also mentions she is a grandmother, through me and that she now has a granddaughter, so she must have known about Jess all along.\n\nShe doesn't go into detail about her son either. My half-brother Declan. He, for her, was a lot harder to escape from than I was. She had nobody to dump him on and forget about. He was her much publicized bad boy son party loving and spoilt, a son, who at fifteen was accused of rape. He was a major screw up, a head case and the son of a man who fixed his problems for him and her. Alas his father was just unable to fix his son. The girl dropped the charges before it went to court. She suddenly remembered she might have said yes, she had a flashback and remembered consenting to their union, another farce. I'd had a feeling his father stepped up to save his psycho son, again. After he had escaped that crime, he became an even nastier piece of work, than he was before, he was a true chip of the old block, he too was a drunk, pill popping idiot, a true psychotic bastard, and all before his sixteenth birthday.\n\nHe had always been bad for as long as I can remember, the first time I saw true evil, it was seeing him lose it, and he was just ten at the time. He was sent to stop with us for the summer, Mommy Dearest, she was on her fourth or fifth marriage, and Grandy was left with little choice to take him in, because he and his nanny turned up on the doorstep. I hadn't seen much of Declan growing up, both he and Mom stayed away, so it was a shock him there when I returned from school. Grandy cancelled our holiday and we stopped for a week with them, the nanny and the boy, and lord was I was glad we did. We, Declan and I were taking breakfast on Grandy's bedroom balcony, overlooking the Thames. It was a sunny morning and Percival, Lulu and the rest of the yapping pug family Grandy adored, were doing their happy yapping at my feet, in preparation for my giving them their plate of liver, kidneys and bacon, yes they were spoilt.\n\nI was feeding them it when Percy asked Declan for some of his, he pushed him away making him yelp, I cuddled Percy and gave him his treat, putting him down he went to ask Declan again. What happened next made me violently ill, he picked him up and threw him to his death, as he landed on the boatshed roof. I screamed as he went for Lulu and the rest. He then had Lulu in his arms and was throwing her too, but I smacked him in his nose so hard he dropped her into my arms. Putting her down, I continued hitting him, but the frenzied barking of the dogs combined with my screaming made Grandy come a running.\n\nShe saw poor Percy and boy did she thrash Declan's arse raw, he was dispatched with his sore bottom, bust nose and lip and his nanny, back to his stepfather's yacht within the hour. I already hated the boy and I knew that day I had seen true evil, he was deeply disturbed and mental, and I was right he would never change. He carried on being an arse, all his life. All of his wrong doings were out there on the super internet highway, his pictures appeared in various tabloids, and he found it hard to escape from the press because when you seek them out to court publicity, as both he and mother used to. They are a double bladed sword when you hope to rule their airways, you can't choose what they print when it suits you, unfortunately for him as they hated him, it was never anything good.\n\nMe? They never found, and if they did, I was just a boring American college professor and attorney, and I don't think I was newsworthy enough. I didn't exist in their world anymore and hadn't done for the past fifteen wonderful years. Thank the Lord... I have, according to the book, refused her all contact and in doing so kept her grandchild away from her. If they only knew the real reason why, her and that farcical book would be dead in the water. She wrote too that I was a wild hippy child, traits I'd inherited from both her crazy mother and my savage father, both free spirits. She also penned more lies stating, I'm currently finding myself in Arizona! There's a smidge of the truth hidden in that sentence, one sentence out of seven hundred pages of pure bull shit...\n\nChapter 2:\n\nI had no need to find myself. I knew who I was. I am Sara Nascha Bird and yes, I had lived the past wonderful fifteen years in Arizona, on my father's ranch there. The place where I had spent all my summers and holidays, from the very first visit when I was a month old. I had spent nineteen long and happy summers there, along with my crazy Grandy and my loving father and his wife Sara. She was my mother in all but birth. She, on all my long breaks there, cared for me and loved me. I think if she'd had her way I would have stopped there, but Dad said Grandy was my legal guardian, a deal they'd had to make with the devil who was my mother, and one he understood, but between them I was loved and cared for. Sara had succumbed to cancer when I was just twelve and I missed her and her wisdom.\n\nFifteen years ago, I came home for good to have my daughter, I was just nineteen and afraid. There would be no more visits back to London and there would be no more having to face danger. I had decided we were stopping in Arizona, and I never looked back. A place that had always been good to me, very good. It was there where I finally considered home, a place where I was happy, and it was a place where Jess thrived, because we were safe. The home we have here is just that home, a happy safe and wonderful sun filled home. Jess loves it and I feel at peace her, most days anyway.\n\nWe keep a small office in the small town of White River, to deal with things on the reservation were Jess was raised, though we have lived for the past five years, since my father's death, in Tucson to be near Jess's school and my work. We still spent every weekend at the horse ranch, because it's still the best place on the planet, with Mother Nature right on our back porch. I thank God it almost runs itself mid-week, with the help of the manager Cane and the hands, our wild Mustangs rule my land and the rest has cattle grazing on it.\n\nDad had always said when he retired that he would like to once again make contact with mother earth and enjoy the fruits of his labour. The ranch, it was Mother Sara's baby, her farm and horse ranch. She was the one who taught me to ride, whilst Grandy taught me to shoot, and the men on the ranch showed me how to hunt. I was not your typical little girl. I was a kick arse rebel, more boy than girl, my father used to call me his little renegade. However, I was also a straight-A-student, both here and at my other home, in Richmond, Surrey. So much so, I was in university at just seventeen years of age and learning the family business, because I wanted to be a lawyer just like my Daddy.\n\nUnfortunately for Dad, he never was able to retire, because he died before he could, of a stupid blood clot of all things. From an injury sustained when he crushed his leg and pelvis in a freak riding accident. He'd fallen off his horse, when it was spooked by a rattlesnake. He'd been out riding with poor Jess, who then had to ride hard to get help, after she tried unsuccessfully to move him and the dead horse on top of him, for hours, but it was far too heavy. He and the horse had rolled down a ravine and landed in a crushed heap at the bottom. Jess was a wreck for quite a while, thinking she could have done more. We nearly gave up the ranch that summer, and came back to live in England, such was our despair losing Dad. We stopped put, because Grandy said we had to continue to live the life my father wanted for Jess. To be free and happy. I agreed.\n\nWe continued getting visits from The Duchess in the following years, and it was decided by Grandy that she wanted to take Jess on one of her extremely big adventures, having promised her one for years. I finally, after a lot of persuasion on both their parts, decided she could do it in her final year at high school, and before she went to college. The Duchess though failed to deliver, because she too died, but she died peacefully in her sleep, before they could do the longed for trip last year.\n\nShe'd got a bad bout of influenza and couldn't shake it, she said it was the sharp winds of Tibet that had caused the chest pains and damn bad cold she couldn't get rid of! She felt so bad, she said she felt it would do her in and it did. Her death was far worse than losing the other people in my life, because she was my rock, my strength and my best friend. She was someone I wished I was just a little like, her with her wild carefree spirit and her sense of adventure and fun, she was eight-seven when she died and still trekking, damn she was adventurous, she was fearless and fantastic, so what happened to me?\n\nShe did however leave me with the dilemma of what to do about the trip. Her dying before she could take Jess on her big European adventure, was her only regret in her long and wonderful life, she made me promise to do the trip in her place, and as I had promised Grandy that I would do the trip with her if she could not, and I had agreed to it just to shut her up the night before she died, so I could hardly renege on a death bed promise, even though I didn't know it was one at the time. I ended up promising Jess I would do it as a tribute to Grandy.\n\nThen the farce that was my mother entered the picture. Jess had finally got a reply back from her grandma, after doing an internet search she wrote to her. Actually, she'd written many letters over the past six months, something she'd kept from me. When she showed me the reply to her last letter, I just knew on that fateful day, that my past would come back to haunt me. She wasn't the only one shocked to hear from her. I had long since put my mother and brother out of my mind. I often dreamed that they had never existed, such a wonderful dream. She'd never asked me questions about them until the dratted book and family tree thing came into our home.\n\nJess was just ten when Dad died and fourteen when the Duchess died, they told her things. I knew she had asked them the questions she thought she could not ask me. They then gave her their limited versions and knowledge of my past, and hers, how could they not? Jess was a persistent little thing when she had to be and had this way of getting what she wanted without you realising she had! Jess was the sunshine and the pleasure in all our lives. She had done so well in her last year that I couldn't renege on the deal I had made with Grandy, even if I wanted too. Besides, I thought it was time, time to try at least to be a little free spirited like Grandy. Ha, I wish. Jess yes, me? That's a big no. Smart I may be, but real world, real life smart? I am not.\n\nI had a detailed list of places that meant a lot to Grandy and they were places she spoke to Jess about all the time. When the Duchess died last year, we inherited a plethora of houses, chalets and cabins to choose to holiday in, in the places Grandy had promised to show her, where there to be seen and I decided what the hell, why the heck not? Then there was my once beautiful home in Surrey, my magical childhood home and my castle on the banks of the Thames, but it hasn't been lived in for the past year, not since her passing anyhow. I had worked so hard in the past year, we both had and yes, I decided we were taking two months off, almost three actually. We had ten weeks to see the world and do touristy things and educational things. We were both excited to start, and it started today, when we got on this darned plane... Money was no object to our doing this and I am educated enough to home school my daughter as we travel.\n\nWhen they died, they left me very well off, Dad left me the law firm, his horse ranch and his land, which had been in his family for generations. I was always told it was mine to care for, for Jess, just as he had cared for it for me, he didn't own it, he was just borrowing it from me. As the many generations before him had, as would the many who came after Jess would, each borrowing it from a future generation. He would tell me it was mine, but for just a short time as it had been for generations, but in that short time we had to make our natural mark and leave it healthy for the future. So now I too was borrowing it from Jess.\n\nI had always been wealthy, thankfully money had never been a problem, and so I could invest and care for the land we were borrowing and care for it I intended to do. It is thanks to my grandmother, the affectionately named Grandy, or The Duchess by Jess. The Duchess of Welling, the right honourable Jessica Ware, she had made sure I was provided for and she provided for Jess too, not that we needed it as I earned good money, because my practice thrived. I love my work, I love my daughter, and I love the land on which we live. I'm eager to see the things mapped out for us by Grandy. Some I had seen, others were a new and exciting mystery, one we are heading out to have.\n\nThough thanks to Jess, we were now adding in a visit to see my mother to the trip. Apart for that trip, we are doing it to the list, and just as Jess wanted it to happen and apparently so did Grandy! Though she would not be allowing Jess to see her grandmother. I though, I have little or no choice, because Jess is that strong willed, she would only sneak off and go it alone, so it's best we do it together. We would stop for a few days in a hotel and be a little spoilt and then go home to Richmond Surrey.\n\nI am having it looked at whilst we are in the hotel, getting it cleaned and getting the place aired. Jess had loved the Duchess's tales of our home there, and as she had never seen it, she naturally wanted to see her house, before we decided if we were selling it or not. It was a big thing to decide without her having ever seen it, but for me it would be like going back in time. I was taking the much dreaded emotional trip back to a place where I was happy and in love, once.\n\nWe would eventually be headed towards London, and we would be in Europe for two whole months and all were to be spent with my girl, she and I are finally running with the Bohemian genes we'd inherited from Grandy. Jesses are freer spirited than mine, because I have a little thing like personal history, work and responsibilities to deal with too.\n\n\"I don't know about you Little Bird but I'm tired, so get your head down, it's a long flight, and we have a stressful couple of days ahead of us.\" Jess wrapped her well-worn blankie around her and dozed off, as I ran my fingers through her jet black hair. She looked so much like her Daddy.\n\nWhen she was born, she was his double, so much so, that it hurt to see her and not have him by my side too. For the longest time I cried when I looked at her, and as my chubby little cherub played, he was staring back up at me. As she got older his traits were there too, my constant reminder of my first love, he was my one and only and no one would ever replace him. She was my reason for being, my world and through her, I still had him by my side. I will tell her how we met, how we fell in love, because I think the whole much put off story needs to be told. I need to tell her everything, but it's a story too sad for me to speak of and one I have kept hidden from all but a handful of people, but the times fast approaching, were I have to tell her, and she has to know.\n\nMy grief and anger are still there nearly sixteen years later. I will tell her of the day I knew I had fallen in love for the first time. Of how I met her father that day, that wonderful day spent at Kew Gardens that glorious raining day... I do love the rain and the beautiful memory's I have each time I see it pour from the sky, normally accompanied with tears, thankfully it doesn't rain a lot in Arizona... I was studying in the garden and fed up of the arguments at home. I packed my backpack and headed for Kew, I'd been day dreaming as usual, and I hadn't noticed it had started to rain, not until it was too late to head to the conservatory. It started raining even heavier as I ran for shelter, it was then I was hit by someone or something, and judging from the clobbering my shoulder took, a bloody bulldozer.\n\nThe person it turns out I hit, sent me flying, no blame was to be had, as unfortunately we both had our heads down, which meant we didn't see each other. We each just felt the collision, I ran into his chest, then I was thrown backwards into the tree's roots, roots my foot got tangled in and then as I fell, my head went towards the tree, boy was I sore and angry. Then I looked up to see who had nearly killed me, only to see the most beautiful man I had ever seen, he looked gorgeous.\n\nHe was dressed for a business meeting, but his jacket was thrown casually over his shoulder, he hadn't been sent flying on his bum, because he was the immovable object, I was not, and as he helped me up to my shaky feet. I noticed his tie, it must have fallen to the floor as he sent me flying, so I leant down for it, at the same time as he did, and our heads clashed, and I sent him sprawling to the ground, I helped him up this time. Wow, he had a thick skull and my head was swimming again, was it in pain or in lust for the man who had banged my noggin?\n\n\"Thank you, how about I go this way you go that way, that way we won't do each other anymore harm?\" He smiled and was rubbing his head too.\n\n\"Sorry, I was studying. I'm so sorry, but I didn't want to get my books wet, are you alright?\"\n\n\"Fine, I'm just here to de-stress. I've just had a fraught business meeting and as I was travelling back to London. I saw the sign for Kew Gardens, and I thought why not, what harm could it do? It seems it can damage one's suit and dirty one's backside.\"\n\n\"Gheeze I'm so sorry, will you please send me the bill? Here's my card, and don't worry it will all come out in the bloody wash.\" I passed him my card and he smiled.\n\n\"Sorry, I was being a little cranky, my father and I fell out at very important meeting, so I have come away to think, re-group my thoughts and get my head together before I go back and face him with a renewed fight, and hopefully better informed to reason with him. I just needed some peace and quiet.\"\n\n\"Sorry, I will go.\" I picked up my bags and walked towards the Palm house. I didn't look back but went to sit and hit the books and thought nothing more of it. I hit the books again. Then my shoulder started to throb, because it seems I'd hit that almost as hard as my head hit the tree. My shoulder was suddenly very sore and getting hot. I put down the books and took off my jumper and there it was, the mother of all bruises starting up, God it was very red and sore, ouch.\n\n\"Shit that will hurt in the morning, I'm sorry.\" He was coming to sit beside me. \"It's still raining and getting worse. It is nice in here and dry. Can I drop you off somewhere? I have a car at your disposal.\"\n\n\"No thanks Grandy said I hadn't got to get in cars with strange men, even if I did ruin his Armani suit.\"\n\n\"As you said, it will come out at the dry cleaners, here's my card, it only seems fair I have yours. What are you studying?\" He looked over my sore shoulder, gently assessing the damage, and told me that I needed a cold compress and some pain killers, derrr I'd worked that out for myself.\n\n\"I'm studying for my law degree at the University of Westminster. I'm in my second year and trying to get my head around, legal ethics, methods and skills, and it's doing my tree in, excuse the tree pun.\" He laughed and gave me back a book.\n\n\"You dropped this Miss Bird, by the same said tree. How come you're here studying, and not in the warmth of some dry student digs or the pub with all the other students I see every day from my office windows, sitting in the parks discussing their emotive speeches of how best they will change the world? In my opinion they need to contribute to it financially, before they can change it, don't you agree?\"\n\n\"I only live by the river, and the walk here is nice, Grandy has her friends at the house and there's only so much Mao Tse-tung I can take in a day, once they start, they don't stop. As to changing the world, we have made the mess, we have created the losses, so we should each be responsible to help in any way we can to try to fix it. I can't change all the world, but I do keep my land as green and as renewable as possible, where possible. I have to because other people are ruining it, they are eating away at it, more and more, decade by decade. Stealing from the land and the precious things Mother Nature has given us to care for.\n\nNow we are wasting our precious resources on frivolous things and stripping it. In the name of what, progress? No, they are stripping it just for pure greed in most cases. I help in my own way and when I can, I help others. I figure if we each do all we can now, maybe we can slow down the planet's eventual decimation, greed it seems makes this world turn. When is enough money enough? Why be the richest dead person in the cemetery? Leave your footprint on the earth in a more meaningful way. Leave a legacy behind for your children to build upon. We shouldn't be leaving them with more of a mess to sort out and with fewer resources to rely on. These messes we create now, our children will have to clear away and will need to find more resources to do it too, and there will be none left to do that with, so we best start sooner rather than later.\n\nThe time is fast approaching, when our children and their children will be unable to build new things, bigger shiny things. They won't have the natural resources to keep them powered or to clear away the smog, nor put back the ozone layer. Which has been and is slowly being killed by the overuse of all our modern creations. There is already an outcry to stop using the crap we invented, things that are destroying it. We will eventually have to improve on the things that are here already, and stop being a throwaway society, because that's all we are really turning into, a bunch of consumerism addicts. Fuelled in our constant need to beat the Jones and have the best of everything. When nine times out of ten there was nothing wrong with the old thing they already had.\"\n\n\"Communist, politics, philosophy and eco warrior, there are a few heavy topics of discussion there Sara, are you into politics and why are you here and not at home then?\"\n\n\"No politics, and I am not into communism either. Grandy and her friends are walking along the Great Wall in the summer, when I go to Arizona. It started up a debate on the little red book, and it got a little heated, so that's the reason I'm here and getting into a heated debate with you instead. Sorry, I have this thing for protecting the land, and the things on it, not eco at all, because I am told constantly by my people and my ancestors, to look after it, for my children's children. I have to be mindful that it has to be here and kept alive and thriving for use by the many generations that come along after us, or what are we working for? For the here and the now, and what? Bugger the future of your children and theirs? It's rather short sighted and selfish, don't you think?\"\n\n\"I think you could have a point and have given me an argument to use against my father. My father feels the need to shut down a factory we have recently bought, and sell the parts off, and then demolish it and put an entire estate of God awful ugly, grey breeze blocked, blue trimmed paint work, and an ugly estate of tinned roofed monstrosities on it and is intent on creating a sprawling industrial estate with neither charm, nor character. Killing off a wonderful old building and leaving those in its place. That's why when I drove by it, I decided to buy it because it is beautiful, but half of it is empty and the rest just needs investment. We need to keep it and repair it. It's not falling down, quite the contrary it's a solid old building, which will still be here and for a lot longer than the units he wants to throw up have fallen down.\n\nI have an idea that we could make the factory pay for itself, with a little investment, perhaps we could bring one of our current businesses here and use the larger of the buildings for that! The building, luckily for us, it has access to the River Thames too. Then the other smaller, yet empty buildings could be made good and then sublet to other connected industries and help keep down our transportation costs and theirs, thus using less fuel and doing our bit for the cause. Plus, the conservationists would be happy, and it may get them off our backs too. Sara, thank you. I knew I would find the answer here, but never did I think a girl and a tree root would help me? Now, why are you going to Arizona, sorry I'm being intrusive?\" I smiled as I take the book from him.\n\n\"My father lives there, and he has me for the holidays, they, Grandy and he, share custody of the Renegade Squaw.\"\n\n\"What, who is a Renegade squaw?\"\n\n\"Sorry, my father is an Apache Indian, as am I in turn. The blonde hair throws people, as I'm not your stereotypical Apache Indian, plus I have an English accent and there it is, that look on your face, instant confusion.\" He laughs, as he does, I notice how truly handsome he is, his smile is infectious.\n\n\"I am Italian, and I'm not stereotypical either. I can't make a pizza to save my life, nor am I a gigolo.\" I don't believe the next words out of my mouth.\n\n\"Pity that then... The Pizza thing... Shit, not the gigolo... I mean... Hell sorry...\" He laughed at me.\n\n\"Let me take you for pizza my way of apologising for not looking where I was going?\"\n\n\"That would be nice, thank you Leonardo, that's a mouth full. Do people shorten it to Leo?\"\n\n\"My friends call me Ben, as my second name is Benito, my father is Leonardo too, so it's less confusing at home.\" I oh-ed, as I continued to stare.\n\n\"I'm Sara Nascha Bird, the Nascha means owl, in Navajo. My family have a bird theme going on with their second name and though I like it better than Sara, I don't use it, because my mother was called Sara, well not my birth mother. My true mother, my father's wife, and lord you're going to be even more confused before your first slice of pizza.\" He smiled.\n\n\"Well we will discuss it over pizza then, my cars this way. Do you need me to take you home first?\"\n\n\"Would you mind? I need to look at my shoulder, and the noggin hurts too. It's just down the road and I can do you pizza at home, I in fact insist on it.\" He accepts my hand, and I pulled him up, as I do, he kisses me. I know I oh-ed when he did it too.\n\n\"I couldn't resist that, and I should say sorry, but I'm not.\" He did it again, and as he did, I drop my bags and return the kiss. Oh wow, I only came to study too.\n\n\"We are never going to get food at this rate. I don't usually pick up strangers in parks. Grandy will kill me.\"\n\n\"As long as she doesn't kill me, I still have a business meeting tonight.\"\n\n\"Well, I will get your lunch done quickly then. Come on.\" I pick my books up and he carries them to his car, a bright red Ferrari Spider, not at all flashy.\n\n\"Don't tell me the Porsche is in the garage?\" He laughed.\n\n\"No, it's at home in Italy, we boys like our toys, so where to then?\"\n\n\"Friars Gate by the Thames?\" He laughed.\n\n\"We're near neighbours. I live in the same area. I have a mews apartment there.\"\n\n\"Umm, it's a small world. Grandy's house is nice and is handy for my rowing on the river, as it backs on to it.\" He really is nice, and as we get to the house, he sighs.\n\n\"This is nice, really nice, do you really live here?\"\n\n\"Why, do I not look like I belong? Come on meet the Duchess, she doesn't bite.\"\n\n\"The Duchess, who is she?\"\n\n\"She is my grandmother, the right honourable, Duchess of Welling. She doesn't use the title, but it's hers. She prefers Jess or Jessica. Don't worry, it's not as if you're asking to marry me or anything? Come on I have pizza to make.\" We walk into the house and he is being dragged in behind me. \"Grandy I have a guest, are you all finished, is the red book away?\"\n\n\"Yes Darling, and they all went home, boring old Ludwig's got a bee in his bonnet, and poor Stein, he hit the red book quotes a tad hard, it gave me a damn headache Little Bird. Who is this darling man then? You are always bringing in strays.\"\n\n\"I picked him up at Kew, they were doing a deal on clumsy Italians. I may have ruined his Armani, Grandy?\"\n\n\"Falling again Sara? Hello young man, I'm Jess pleased to meet you. My granddaughter has lost her manners as well as her sense of gravity. Don't tell me, was your head in a book again? I always said they'd be the death of you.\"\n\n\"Sorry Grandy, this is Ben Vinci, the poor man I nearly killed, and I have offered him lunch in return, with any luck I won't give him food poisoning too, because he has a business meeting to go to later?\"\n\n\"Pleased to meet you too, I don't normally pick young ladies up in parks, but she hasn't a coat and the rain it wasn't for letting up, and I was a little hungry, that is until Sara mentioned food poisoning?\"\n\n\"Fine young man fine, Sara hasn't ever brought a man home. Don't worry she has yet to poison anyone, I am living proof of her most excellent cooking repertoire, you don't get this body eating salads dear heart, and with any luck she will do you her pizza, it's to die for young man, fan-bloody-tastic. I'm so happy to see you and if you were doing pizza, do one for my dinner, would you please Sara? I'm off Little Bird, the club is calling my name. I will see you again Ben. Yes... I think we will see you again.\" She winks and goes to her book group. Well, the afternoon session of gin rummy at her club, which is really more gin, and rummy, than card games.\n\nI made him sit down and I began the pizza, my speciality, and as he watched me create his lunch we talked, he was twenty-three, a whole five years my senior, an ex-model and the middle son of a diplomat, I know I oh-ed, I was mesmerised, and as the pizza cooked, he drank coffee and we talked. I was intrigued by him, what did he want with an eighteen year old? It didn't seem to bother him that I was only eighteen either, well I'm after all nearly nineteen. He ate his pizza and drank more coffee and we sat all afternoon talking, and when he had to go, I sighed, would I see him again? He smiled as I walked him to the door.\n\n\"Would you like to come to dinner tomorrow, on me, a thank you for a very pleasant afternoon?\"\n\n\"That would be nice thank you, and yes it was nice. Now I really have to get my backside into my ethics paper, or I will fail.\" He leant down and kissed me again. I ummed quite loudly as he pulled away from my lips.\n\n\"Until tomorrow, hopefully I will see you again, Sara Bird. Goodbye my little hummingbird.\" I laughed he did hear me then. \"I will pick you up at eight.\" I made a point of humming. He drove off in his little red car just as Grandy came back.\n\n\"Certain people catch your eye because they look good, but don't be fooled by their looks in your pursuit of perfection Little Bird. Make sure of his heart first. Don't fly too high, too quickly, walk slowly along the long path a while, before you fly off and give your heart to him completely? I think he may very well be the one that puts the wind beneath my Little Birds wings. I think he will be the one, yes he is the one?\" I agree and go to my room and hit the books, after I do an internet search of him, and yes, he was a model too, in his rebel years. He now works for his family business of hotels and casinos and an array of other enterprises. He's considered one of Italy's most eligible bachelors, a prized catch here too judging by the girls on his arms, bummer. I sigh as I switched to revision mode. That man made my heart stop.\n\nI'm suddenly snapped out of remembering him as the plane hits a spot or turbulence. I feel going back home, will mean there are going to be a hell of a lot more memory's hidden at there, plenty of tears will be shed and happiness to share too. I will have to tell our entire love story to Jess, I sighed. It's too hard remembering him, too hard. I decide on some comedy and I re-read that damn book again, my mother's story was a pure work of farcical fiction. I had read it first months ago, when it hit the bookstores. A very stupid title I thought, 'A life With Hidden Regrets' what possible regrets in her life, hidden or otherwise, could she possibly have?\n\nAll she had were people getting in her way, and those she stepped upon to get where she wanted, all those she left behind, without a care. So what regrets did she have? Did she finally regret being a bitch? A diva, for getting people sacked from their much needed positions at the drop of a hat. Being a drama queen, making a simple fall from a horse a reason to start using drugs and drinking? She'd spent her life before she had me, being a nice woman to be with and work with a good daughter and friend, was it my impending arrival, the thing that sparked the hidden and nasty Daniella Gabriella into being the wicked witch of the north, the cold and heartless bitch she had become?\n\nI study the title again, more importantly had she finally regretted the part she played in locking me away, in my own Scottish castle. It could have been a film plot, the way it all played out that fateful day, when she found out about all about me having Jess, now that would have made the book title a tad more truthful? I closed the book, there was no comedy in the horrors I had to endure at their hands, and no mention of her sorrow for her part of it? I think that's why I bought the book, to see if she was sorry for all of it, or in fact any of it. Having read it, I found there were no apologise at all.\n\nChapter 3:\n\nWe landed after just over eleven hours in the air, and Jess had slept for the majority of it, and me? I was restless and full of questions and had a feeling of impending doom. We collected our luggage and headed to our hotel The Savoy, as it was local to the areas Jess wanted to see, and she deserved the best. I was still very wary about my mother's sudden need to be in our lives. Eli, my head of security, could find out nothing more about her than I already knew. The wonders of the internet were great, I'd found out that in the past ten years she had been a virtual recluse and that Declan had been in and out of rehab more than Lindsey Lohan had.\n\nI was just wanted to show Jess my old home, places that meant something to us, her father and I, and the Duchess. We definitely needed a visit to Kew Gardens, and perhaps do some hunting in Scotland. I had to tie up the loose end with the castle anyway, it had sold at last and after that I may take her to Italy to see Ben's old home. As I hadn't seen it or them, it would be a first for me too, and if they granted us an audience, they would know who she was instantly, plus she may get to see her sibling. I hadn't wanted to know about his family or his other child, their betrayal too much for me to bear, their refusal to see or talk to me spoke volumes.\n\nI must admit the need to Google them when I was feeling a little down, it was a great temptation, but one I resisted. The last time I did an internet search it was to download a picture, but as saw his image I sobbed uncontrollably, it was still all too raw even years later. I'd fingered the screen, tracing his face and snapped the laptop shut. I closed the lid crying a river as I usually did when I thought of him. For my own sanity, I never did it again. Whilst we were here, I would try to tell her the truth and all about him, and my reasons for not telling her before, besides we had time. Time, I needed to get my head back in the game. The game? It was far from a game what Ben and I had, it was amazing and horrendous and full of dratted confusion, even years later.\n\nWe had a week here before our arranged meeting at my mother's home and I was still reluctant to meet her there, but she was bed bound and too weak to travel, so I had little or no choice. I put her out of my mind for a while and I set about showing Jess the sights. My fifteen year old stunning daughter was in awe of the place, the sights in London were truly great. The Tower of London, the London Eye, Madame Tussauds, Harry Potter World and Trafalgar Square, they were all on her list of places to go, and as she took photographs of our summer vacation, her face lit up with every new thing she saw.\n\n\"Mom this place is awesome. Will you tell me someday why you left this place, and not just that you needed to spend time with Shiitsooyee?\" Her need to keep her heritage within her meant that she would occasionally slip in Apachean words without thinking! The language is a mixture of Apache and Navajo and a splattering of all the Apache tribes over the past few hundred centuries, words with so many meanings and quite a beautiful language too.\n\n\"One day and soon Jess... I promise you but spending all my time with Grandpa was a luxury for me. Grandy was fine and I loved her to heaven and back again, but she wanted to start travelling again. She'd put it all on hold to raise me, and when I moved to Arizona to have you, I decided you needed to be brought up by him too, because Jess, he missed so much of my childhood. I figured sharing you with him was what we both needed. Plus, living with Dad, Grandy could do the things she put on hold, not that that worked she was still never away. I escaped from here and found my freedom with him, literally escaped Jess. I will tell you of that too, but when I'm ready Little Bird, alright? That's all I can tell you, well until I know what your Grandma wants. I can assure you Jess it will be for her benefit not ours, so please Little Bird, don't get your hopes up. Okay?\" I sighed as she shot more photographs. She had no clue as to what was waiting ahead of us, and neither did I.\n\n\"Okay, Mom when you're ready, you'll tell me and one day Mom, I will be as good as you at this too and have my work in exhibitions, in the big New York art galleries.\" Something else I was good at photography, the hours I spent on my father's ranch taking photographs of everything and anything. The mountains in the differing four seasons were the best, and the prints sold very well. The pictures of wildlife and life in general in White River and on the reservation, our life had been truly blessed since moving back home to be with Dad. What was Mother planning, was she trying to wreck it? Would my psycho brother be in residence? I broke out of my daydream to take Jess to the Hard Rock Café and have dinner, though what she considered dinner and what I considered dinner were and are two very different things, let the battle begin.\n\n\"Mom, can you order for me, please, I need the toilet.\" I was in shock... Was she testing me? Now, am I getting her something I know she will moan about, healthy and nutritious just for her not to eat it? Or do I get her favourite and know she will eat it? Teenagers, who'd have them? The waiter came.\n\n\"Can I please have the Southern Burger, a side salad, fries, onion rings, and a portion of slaw and can I have the pulled pork sandwich, please? A Coke Light and a Sprite Light please?\" He took my order just as Jess came back, she looked happy and carefree as I was at her age, as all kids should be.\n\n\"Mom this place is awesome, can we see a show tonight or do something you want to do, because you've put up with my whining all day.\" I am shocked.\n\n\"Alright what have you done to Jessica Jay, my arguing Little Bird?\"\n\n\"Awe gheeze Mom I'm not that bad, am I?\" She was far from bad, she was perfect and as she smiled, I saw her father's big eyes and his killer smile looking back at me.\n\n\"No Little Bird, your wonderful don't ever change, and whatever happens at Grandma's remember I love you so much.\"\n\n\"Mom, what could she possibly say to make me hate you? I have issues with her, not you. She has to explain why she thinks it's alright for her to suddenly want to be in our lives, after nothing in years. We don't have to explain anything to her.\" Again, she shocks me.\n\n\"Your dinner Madam, the burger is whose?\"\n\n\"That would be my daughters, along with the Sprite please.\" He places the food and the side orders, and we tuck in. This is nothing as near good as Millie's pulled pork and slaw, but it's reasonably good, I've had worse. As we eat, we chatter, and I watch my girl as she tucks in and smile as she finishes the lot, she's like her grandfather, she has hollow legs and is as skinny as a bean pole.\n\n\"Mom, when you said you didn't know who my father was? Why did you lie, you know about not knowing who he was? Why make yourself out to be a drunken lush, because we all know it is a load of bull, I didn't think that's right, it's not you? I cried when you so obviously lied to me. I did not believe you were like that, no way Jose, Mom. I asked Grandy, she told me you would tell me who my father was when you were ready, are you ready Mom, because I'd like to know about him?\" I choke on the last of my sandwich.\n\n\"I don't know Jess, I can't tell you why, not properly? Perhaps it was just that I loved him so much, and I think he lied to me about loving me? I loved him and was devastated at his betrayal. When he died, you were all I had left of him. I never got over him, and I don't think I ever will, but things had happened before you were born, things that took him from us, and I didn't want to be reminded of that awful time. At that horrid time, there were things that happened, that made me so unhappy and angry. I was so confused, I was fed up and angry, thinking that everything he had ever said to me was probably a lie, everything Jess, including that he loved me. He couldn't have loved me if he moved on so quickly Jess. Your sister or brother is only a couple of months older than you.\" I pick up the napkin and wipe my eyes.\n\n\"I have a brother or sister, did you not think that was important Mom, it was and is. I can't believe you kept that from me, that is so not cool Mom, not cool?\" She was getting up to leave, I grabbed at her arm. I was frightened I would lose her. She needs to know it has been long enough. I need to tell her everything, but will she be ready?\n\n\"Jess please, he had a baby with my best friend. Do you know how hard that was for me, they, his family, they refused you to accept you as Ben's, but her child they accepted, but not you, their child yes, you, no. Yes Jess, they did know about you. Those special photos we had done every year for your birthday. They were for them and they were sent to them and still I heard nothing. I didn't want you to feel as rejected as I felt. I begged them to see me before you were born, pleaded with them. Your father was my whole world for a short time before he was taken, and after that, you became my world, mine, not theirs. They had their chance and threw it in my face.\"\n\n\"Sorry Mom, I didn't mean to make you sad and make you cry, it's just, Shiitsooyee, said one day you would tell me of my father, and I would understand your sadness.\" I put my hand over hers.\n\n\"The minute I had you Jessica Jay Bird, I had him back in my life, and for that I will be truly thankful to him for, for giving you to me. I can never hate him, but yes, I was angry and I'm still sad. I always will be sad that he never even knew about you, and he died not seeing you. That's what is so very horrid about it, that and the fact his parents refused to acknowledge you as his, even after his death, so I gave up trying to convince them you were. So, Jess I figured the family who stopped with you, and loved you, were the ones you needed in your life. Have you missed out Jess? Have I failed you?\"\n\n\"Shit Mom no, my friends think I'm the luckiest girl alive. I have a fantastic Mom, and one most of the girls would kill for, none of their moms can down an Elk and can kill a mountain lion, or canoe, trek black bears or whip a criminal's butt in court. Having a father would have been cool too Mom, but I haven't missed anything not having one. Shiitsooyee, he taught me things and told me things, the elders give me advice. Eli helps me with man stuff and Asher guards me like a hawk. I think I have enough positive males in my life, as well as some stupid boys, why are boys such dorks?\"\n\n\"Jessica Jay, shit and whipping of butts is not language I want to be hearing from you over the dinner table, and when you find out about how to handle a boy or a man pass on your tips, your old mom is useless too.\" We laugh as she finished her second drink and I pay the bill. We wander along the banks of the Thames. I walk arm in arm with my daughter, as I did with Ben on our first date. This place is killing me with all the memories, after all they and Jess are all I have of him, but what a gift he gave me. She is my life, my whole life.\n\nWe headed back to the hotel, taking much the same path as Ben and I had on a couple of our date nights. We had a few very nice nights in the Savoy, actually more than a few and I smile. Why he does this to me I will never know? I should hate him, but despite the hurt I felt at his betrayal, I can't hate him! Our first date was amazing. It was a date like nothing I had been on before, he wined and dined me at the very hotel we were staying in, and I think that's why I booked the Savoy for our few days of luxury too, it was a place with more of our memories. He'd picked me up as he said he would and after giving Grandy her flowers, he had a car drop us at the Savoy. I'm glad I purchased the required little black dress, the simple pearls and heels made me look, and I hoped, good enough to ask for a second date. Grandy said I looked as beautiful as ever, she was biased though.\n\n\"Is this alright Sara? I wasn't sure if you, did this sort of thing?\"\n\n\"Umm, I'm house trained, and I do know what knife and fork to use Ben, sorry Leo?\"\n\n\"Call me Ben it's nice hearing it again, everyone calls me Leo these days, I suppose you have been researching me?\"\n\n\"Of course, I had to know if you were after my millions, I am forever being wooed for them.\" He choked on his beer. \"Ben I am joking, well about the wooed part of that, the money not so. I am thanks to Grandy independently wealthy, so I am not after yours, if that's what you're thinking?\"\n\n\"No, I wasn't. I couldn't find out a lot about you, other than your mother was an actress Daniella Kullberg, that you have a brother and you do a lot of charity work in Arizona for the Red Indians? Oh, and Jess could give Sherpa Tensing a run for his money. She is amazing, she is a big part of the much fabled, wind travellers club, I read. Now her I like a lot. She is windswept and interesting.\"\n\n\"We prefer Indigenous People, the first nation or simply Apache. I, unlike my little brother don't court publicity, and he's a freak with a capital F. He is in a boarding school, when he should be locked away in a school for the mentally insane. He was too much for Mother and her last husband, so he's been sent away again, this I think is his sixth or seventh school? The thing with him is he gets in with the older boys and that's where the trouble is, he's easily led. I am not his favourite sister, nor is he my favourite brother. We're a very dysfunctional family.\n\nGrandy is the most interesting person I know and yes, her travels are legendary. She's as you say, she is, she is a prime member of the W.T.C and has been since they started it after the war. She, Ludwig, Stein, Grandfather William, and a few other likeminded friends from Cambridge started it. I like to say she is Bohemian, but she is way cooler than that. I am just not as adventurous as her, would that I was, it may make my life more interesting. Do you have siblings?\"\n\n\"I have a brother like that he's called Giovanni. He's always in trouble, but something happened and inevitably he's found God, so he's doing the required thing for the family and is joining the church, he hopes to become a priest. I kid you, not from his running with thieves and sleeping with prostitutes, he has changed into a reformed boy. I have an older sister Donatella, his twin, and Mom and Dad dote on her. She is the only girl of four children. My younger brother he too is at boarding school and is due to join the family business later this year. He is a strange one, he's called Paulo, and he has even stranger friends. Not that I give them much of my time, I don't have a lot to waste on idiots.\"\n\n\"Oh... I will be going then?\" I jokingly get up.\n\n\"Sit down you're not an idiot, you are like a breath of fresh air. I don't think, no I can honestly say I have never met anyone like you?\"\n\n\"I don't know if that's a compliment or not? Is it?\"\n\n\"Defiantly a complement Sara, so drink your wine and behave. You look lovely by the way, I'm sorry I didn't mention it before, I was a little nervous with the Duchess. If she really is a Duchess, and if so, does that mean your royalty?\"\n\n\"No Ben, it means she just has a title, the family land went generations ago, but being bankers, they know about money. My grandfather, William was the Duke of Welling, he was quite wealthy, so being born into money they made sure he married into more money. Grandy had her own title before they married, she was a Lady, daughter of a Lord, it was an arranged marriage. After Grandy was presented at court, at her debutante ball. It worked very well for the time they were married. He was wonderful according to her. Alas, I never met him, he died when my mother was a baby. As a result, the riches came down the family ladder, so I have it too, but money and having it really gives me a huge headache and I hate it. Everyone at college is working to pay off student loans and stuff, and I feel I am missing part of the university life. I mean does that sound strange, me wanting to work?\"\n\n\"No far from it actually. I don't have to work but I do, you would go mad doing nothing all day, or I would. Have you a job?\"\n\n\"Yes, I do work when I go to the ranch, its part and parcel of living on the ranch too, you pull your weight, and I like being part of it. I will intern for my father for a while too, he has two offices one in Tucson and one on the reservation, and yes, I live on an Indian reservation with the rest of the tribe, and thank you, you can leave now, if you want to?\"\n\n\"Why would I want to? Sara, you are who you are and that's fine by me, you by the way are a beautiful girl called Sara, everything else is part of you and I am not that bothered by stupid crap like colour of skin, religious beliefs and or sexual orientation. I am a modern man, at least I hope I am?\"\n\n\"Other men, boys or whatever, they are not as open minded about things like that. The boys I meet anyway, I impart the same thing as I have to you, and they think they get to screw Pocahontas dating me. I'm so sorry, but that's so not happening by the way. Usually, they get rude after they have had a drink or two and when I impart that piece of my heritage, they smile and usually do the wowowowo thing with their hand over their mouth. I just give them the finger and say 'how' and walk off. Please don't tell me you are going to do that?\" He laughs loudly, and as he does, people look in our direction, and I go red.\n\n\"No, I think I'm little more mature than that. Have you had many boyfriends treat you like that?\"\n\n\"No, I have only had a couple anyway and the first one thought I was going to scalp him when I said in all honesty, that he could do with a haircut. He ran out leaving me with the bill, grabbing his damned beany hat and heading right out of Dodge, and there you have it, another Cowboy and Indian metaphor there for you to think about.\" He laughed at me again. \"The second was a little more forceful he wanted to... He tried to... He wanted more than I was comfortable giving him. He was strange and still is. I sometimes feel he is still watching me. It's a little difficult avoiding him, as we still attend the same University, though he has shifted some of his classes, and I have too, so we now we only have a couple of classes together. He is and was weird.\"\n\n\"So from what you're saying, he wanted sex, and you didn't want to give him your body?\"\n\n\"Correct on both counts, I didn't feel like anything for him in that way. We did an assignment together, just the once. I kissed him once, a thank you for walking me home and on the cheek too, he wanted to take it further that night, a swift kick to the nuts put him firmly in his place. He said I was his and would be his, one day I would be sorry for being a tease. I never felt like that towards him. We didn't even go past a passionate kiss before he wanted to bypass all bases, and just get to the home run in one night. Oh, get me, this is all too much information and is a tad too serious for a first date. Oh, I mean... I don't know if this is even a date, God talk about being forward?\"\n\n\"No, I like it very much how honest you are being, so what you're saying I have a chance at second base, seeing as the kiss yesterday was first base? I thought this was a date, our first date and yes and one of many more I hope?\" I know I hummed again and as I blushed, he smiled.\n\n\"If you play your cards right you could be in for a home run.\" I know I said it because he laughed again.\n\n\"I like your baseball metaphors, so a home run is on the cards? Why, because you think that's all I want? I can assure you it's not.\"\n\n\"Oh, so I'm not what you want?\" I was a little upset go figure? I practically threw myself at him too.\n\n\"I could take you upstairs now, but I'm trying hard to play it cool, because I really want to.\" I blushed as a beautiful woman is waving in our direction, and as I didn't know her, it must have been aimed at Ben.\n\n\"I think that woman over there is trying to catch your attention, in fact, she is coming over.\" I will not be jealous, but I am, she is stunning, really stunning.\n\n\"Charlie long time no see, how's the job? Sorry let me introduce my date Sara, this is an old colleague Charlotte Ginsburg, Charlie this is Sara Bird.\"\n\n\"Hiya, I haven't seen you on the circuit? When did you meet Benny then? She's prettier than the normal ones who throw themselves at you?\"\n\n\"Oh, I'm not a model? I scoped the place looking for trade and this one took my fancy. I decided to try for a little posh toff sex. I'm just discussing my prices, he was being nice when he said I was his date, he picked me up earlier in the park.\" She laughed as I said it, but Ben he looked mortified.\n\n\"Oh, Benny Baby, this one's a keeper, she has brains, and a sense of humour as well as the beauty. She will need humour to be with you, what do you do besides ply for posh trade in parks then?\"\n\n\"I'm studying to be a lawyer, I'm in my second year, thank you, and I'm sorry to say the trade in Kew's a tad bit of a let-down just lately, don't bother going this one only drives a Ferrari.\"\n\n\"Sara, you picked me up.\"\n\n\"I beg to differ I sent you flying on your Armani covered bottom, into the tree and then on the wet grass. I ruined, apparently, a perfectly good suit.\"\n\n\"Oh hell you two are too cute. I am off, see you soon here's my card, ring me. We definitely need to get to know each other. I like you, she's a keeper Benny.\" We exchanged cards that night, and she became my new best friend.\n\n\"Sorry, that was too easy. Ben are you mad?\" He laughed again.\n\n\"No Sara, far from it, I love how you went to green eyed monster to her best friend and all at my expense, and all in one conversation.\" He leant over and gave me a kiss.\n\nWe ate dinner, and as we ate, we talked about nothing and everything, including our dreams plans and hopes. After dinner we walked along the Thames hand in hand. Taking in the cool spring evening air, we didn't talk for an age, when he suddenly pulled me into his arms and kissed me, and by kiss, I mean he really kissed me. I went weak at the knees and at that moment, I knew he was the one. Oh, he was the only one, that I was sure off...\n\n\"My place, Grandy's away for the weekend, a retreat for fellow likeminded Bohemian old hippies, we're going back to my lair.\" After hailing a cab and spending the journey lip locked, we pulled up to the house, he paid the cab fare and as I climbed the steps, he smiled.\n\n\"Are you sure this is what you want, and tonight with me? Sara, we can wait and take things easy, do the dating thing! I'm not going anywhere?\"\n\n\"Umm I do yes, with you tonight, in my room on my big comfortable bed and all night too, be gentle with me. This I get to remember for a lifetime, who I lost it to and when.\" He held me as I opened the door, he picked me up and closed the door with his foot, carrying me into my room in his arms.\n\n\"Which room? Are you sure, this is really quick, it has to be what you want, remember what you want, not me?\"\n\n\"I want you, and this is my room. I'm covered too are you, you know safe? We should have discussed this more first, but I wanted you yesterday when you kissed me.\"\n\n\"Yes safe, clean bill of health and I have protection too, so both?\"\n\n\"Both, there's no need to add to the world's population.\" He kissed me again, shut the door and undressed me as I clambered to take off his things too, passionate kisses are grabbed, as we pulled off each other's clothes.\n\nFinally we both are naked, we fell on the bed and began exploring each other's bodies, this was all new to me, and if I said it was mind blowing, it would have been an understatement. I was awash with feelings of excitement and differing needs. My body sparked to life in places never touched by another soul, but me. Those places were now being played with, and wow was he playing. My body moved and as I did, he'd place a little kiss there, as I moved more fiercely, he would playfully bite. Even more kisses are to be had and given. Down they went to my now firm nipples, erect and waiting for him, and as he feasted on them. It sent shock waves to my sex, it throbbed as he suckled, it ached in a strangely nice way.\n\nAs the feeling drove me mad with need, he went lower, oh my God, what was he doing? He was making me act wildly, driving me into a near frenzy. I screamed as he gave me so much pleasure. I opened up my legs to allow him unfettered access to me, my virginity and lord was it good, his tongue probed that open part of me, and I mewed like a kitten and I swore like a hooker and screamed like a banshee. Yes, my emotions were riding me that harshly, but wow it was good. He then nuzzled at the apex of my thigh and worked his way back up my body the kisses at last were reaching my mouth, I devoured them, as we mumbled our needs for more wanting it and needing it, and now. He ripped open the condom, I watched as he slowly rolled it down his none too shabby dick.\n\n\"Are you ready? One, I hope, very happy memory for you to remember forever?\"\n\n\"Just one, I will be disappointed.\"\n\n\"Slow and easy or quickly, I have never done this before? It's kind of special for me too?\" I held his face to mine and kissed him as he returned the kisses and as he ascended into me, I let out an almighty moan, panting at the feelings of sweet dread and pure lust. This is what I'd been missing, all through college and University?\n\nAs he took me, the pain was nothing in comparison to the pleasure he gave, kissing me wildly as he moved within me. He began riding high on his arms and lowering his body into mine, moving into me gently, in and out repeatedly. I reached fever pitch as I came and hard, he cried out my name and never has Sara sounded so desperately sexy as it did when it came from his mouth. As I tensed around him, he cried for me to let go, I think in pain, so I released my hold on him. My head felt like it was soaring, and I swear I had an out of body experience as I came again. He too made wild noises, as our bodies were now joined in a heated exchange of thrusts and pulls, as we moved, he changed position, and as he moved faster and faster, the feelings were rising again.\n\n\"Yes, yes oh hell Sara you're so good to be with, are you alright?\" I ummed, as I held on to his back my fingers grasping at his skin, I couldn't do anything but moan my pleasure, and as he came to an amazing finish, I gripped tightly to him.\n\n\"Wow that was... Amazing, I could do that again, you Leonardo Vinci were amazing.\"\n\n\"Just amazing, I can live with that. Are you, are you alright? Was it a good enough memory?\"\n\n\"Why is there going to be no more?\"\n\n\"I think, no I know there will be plenty more! Drinks, we need drinks?\"\n\n\"In the fridge downstairs, bathroom through the grey door there. Robe behind door. No naked arses in Grandy's kitchen, even if it is cute and attached to that body. What would the Duchess say?\" He laughed as he washed and grabbed the robe.\n\n\"Pink, is so not my colour, stay where you are. I am coming straight back we need to make you some more memory's...\" My heart sings and my panties are more than a little moist, if I was wearing them, derr...\n\n\"Mom are you alright you just started laughing, they lock you up for that here, in a loony bin whatever that is?\" We headed back to the hotel, knowing I walked this way with him all the time, it made me both sad and happy at the same time. This was a trip we needed to do, and for me to exorcize some ghosts. It was bath and bed for us when we got back, Jess was finally getting used to the time differences with her friends, so went to chat on-line.\n\nChapter 4:\n\nI woke and felt like crap exhausted and emotionally drained. After a busy few days, I decide to take it easy today and go see Grandy's house. Jess has never seen it, so it will be nice for her, if it's clean and tidy we will stop there for the remainder of the holiday. Jess wants to see Stonehenge, see the castle at Edinburgh and do some fishing, she wants to do some shooting too, so we are booked in for a couple of days in a castle. Borrodale Castle to be precise. Clive the man who arranges all the trips for the hotel, was busy arranged a couple of days shooting at a large estate in Scotland and he was arranging their transport, when I rocked up to ask him about trips.\n\nHe laughed and said two had just had to pull out of a rather luxurious shooting weekend, so he would ask if we could join the party in their places to make up numbers. He was just arranging flight times for them, it was a really important meeting as they were in talks with a bigwig who owned the castle. I wasn't listening, well I was sort of, two people had pulled out and that we were lucky enough to get their places, that much I heard.\n\nAfter a quick phone call to okay it with the owner's secretary, we're approved, good old Clive says we will love it. It's a private estate, and the owner will be there too. It's his business party that are travelling up. I decline the use of his private jet as I have hired a car, a little old Porsche Cayenne, I wanted comfort, and this was the best the hire place had. The castle, I was told was excellent for photos too. I want to snag a Roe deer, it will look cool on the wall at the cabin at the ranch, next to my elk and my mountain lion.\n\nI didn't want to kill the mountain lion, but it sneaked up on us, or rather Jess, whilst we were hunting for deer to fill the freezer. I only hunt to eat, not for sport. That's why we're going here, as all the meat is eaten. I haven't been pheasant shooting in a while either. I've shot a few geese and ducks though, and hopefully Grandy still has her pair of Purdy's and her Holland's, she has a nice little collection of rifles and shotguns, well actually, I suppose I own those too? I'm thankful that my licences have been kept up to date and the guns I think may be in the shooting clubs gun locker, I will need to check. There is so much to sort out, and Grandy has lots of things I need to sort out, including the bank and the properties I now own, selling the ones we don't use is easy enough, as I'm selling all of them.\n\nI ring the cleaning company and the house is fit to live in, so we pack and head there. I really need to know what to do with the place, its massive, and it's a shame it being empty all the time, it's used as a house for photo shoots and it's been used in a film. Other than that, it has stood empty most of the time. I will never live here again. Not when so near her, and besides Jess would miss her old life, and it would miss her. I pay the bill and as we are leaving, I swear I see Ben. It was just a fleeting glimpse, but as I turn to see the man again, he's gone.\n\nDreaming again Sara, the dead don't walk, unless it's in those awful films my daughter insists on, we have a marathon of every few months. I swear, I think she thinks vampires are real. Her father has been dead over fifteen years, definitely wishful thinking on my part, that he was there. I think because I spent all night dreaming of him and the amazing sex, we had that last night, it and those wonderful memory's is what has me all so het up. Knowing that I'm never going there again, and the lack of sleep, is a killer too! It took me quite a while to settle after remembering him and being here hasn't helped much. Lord help me when we get to the house.\n\nThe rental car has been delivered. I have had no time to check out Grandy's car, but I do wonder does she even still have it? Or rather do I still have it? More to do... I have to sort out the cars and hopefully her wonderful little bright yellow VW bug is there. We are not using it, because I doubt would even make it to Scotland and I know there would be a distinct lack of comfort, because as best as I can remember about the dratted thing, it was cold and bloody noisy. Well it was when Ben and I last drove in it.\n\nI laugh, I learnt to drive in the banana wagon, had rude sex in the back of it too, it may even be where Jess was conceived, well in the car or my room on my massive comfortable bed. Now that was a wonderful place and full of wonderful memories. I laugh because Grandy, bless her, allowed Ben to live with us, whilst he had his apartment redecorated. I gave him his own room and she just embarrassed him by saying why move in if it wasn't to share my bed, she figured I was old enough to make my own choices, being as I was over eighteen.\n\n\"What are you laughing at Mom? This car is really nice. Please remember they drive on the wrong side of the road and a lot slower, and watch the bicycles, they are darting in and out, they are acting like rats.\" I laugh.\n\n\"Yes, I know Malady, would you like me to wear a chauffeur's hat?\" She tunes in the radio, to some awful boy band, as we head to Grandy's house.\n\nPulling up to the road, I drive past his old mews apartment and point it out to Jess, she smiles and says she will take some pictures later. We pull around the corner, oh my, oh my. I breathe a deep sigh of relief. It still looks the same, it's still my safe haven. Friars Lane was Grandy's home for her whole married life and mine for the nineteen wonderful years I lived here. I have to wonder if she kept the décor and maintenance up to date? I did have a woman who lived in until last month, and now I pay a firm of cleaners to look after it's up-keep. The cleaning company goes in twice a month to dust, and keep it spider free, etc. My housekeeper, she moved on because it was too boring for her.\n\nWith Grandy passing in Arizona, I had now no reason to come back here, or so I thought, though she did want her ashes returning and placing with Grandfather William. I have her with me and I will carry out her last request, she will be returned to William and her lovely dogs, in the garden at home. Another reason I cannot get rid of the place, my family are all in the garden. Oh Grandy, Grandy, Grandy what am I to do? I pull around the back to the four garages and open my door. Jess has finally shut her mouth and is looking at the mini palace in front of her.\n\n\"Tell me again why you left this place Mom? This if friggin awesome and look its right against the water, heck can we live here?\" I laugh, not unless we get a miracle and your grandma is living on the other side of the world sweetheart.\n\n\"It is nice, isn't it? I had forgotten just how nice Jessica. Here help me with the doors.\" She pulled, and I pushed, as they flew open easily, it seems the money I pay for maintenance, is well spent, even the hinges have been oiled. The bug is still there, as is my mini cooper, last seen left at the airport. I drive the Porsche carefully in and park up. \"This way Jess and lock the bolts on all the doors please.\" She slides the heavy bolts across, and I feel safer now.\n\n\"Mom how rich are you?\" I laugh she has never asked me that before.\n\n\"We are fine Little Bird. We have more than you can ever spend, and this house is worth close to fifteen million dollars, so I think were financially sound darling. Why did you ask, you have never asked before Jess?\"\n\n\"I just never realised, we never speak about it, I always have what I need, but when you paid the hotel bill, it was like mega expensive, and we were only there like three days, and we stopped at Magic Mountain for like a whole week and it wasn't as much as that.\" I laugh as she compares this to the best holiday she ever had, and all is done with not as much as a breath in between.\n\n\"Sorry Jess, I forget we have money. We have a few days here, so we will run through everything, Grandy has loads of photographs and I have a hell of a dark room here. Old school photos, do you fancy it? All my stuff should be in my room, so how do you fancy going up the river? My sculls in the boat shed, come garage. Do you fancy your old Mom taking you up the Thames?\" She squealed and came in for her monster hug.\n\n\"This has been the best holiday ever, and we still have over ten and a half weeks left, you're the best Mom in the world.\" I am in for one of her tight hugs.\n\n\"You're welcome Jessica Jay.\" I open the connecting door to the house and damn my keys still work after near on sixteen years. I cart the luggage up to the house, as we pass through the house the old feelings come rushing back. I'm home...\n\n\"Where's my room, Mom?\" Jess heads up the stairs like a bull in a china shop, as she opens all the doors and screams in delight. I think she's not going to want to leave, because I know I never wanted too.\n\n\"The big one at the end was Grandy's, mine is here. Just choose one, or sleep in a different one each night?\"\n\n\"Do you think Grandy would mind if I slept in her room? It sounds silly Mom, but it smells of her, or am I just being dumb?\" I go in and she's right it does, there is a faint smell of her is in the room? The reason is explained, as I see the cleaners have been squirting her perfume in the room. It's been placed back in the wrong place. I squirt a little on my sleeve and sob. She could be here with us. The smell reminds me so much of her. I find it funny how a smell can spark a memory into action, this smell has been in my life forever, and now it's gone. We both let out a sad sigh as Jess squirts it on the bed. \"I will smell nice later and feel like she's here with me. This is way cool Mom way cool.\" She throws herself on the massive four poster bed, the biggest I have ever seen, and the most comfortable one I have ever slept in.\n\n\"We need to spend a few days packing her stuff away, and no, she wouldn't mind it if you slept in here. The cleaners have changed all the beds and until last month Yvonne lived here. We need to decide what we want to do with it Jess?\" This has been an expensive house to maintain, but one I don't want to get rid of either. I go to my room, and I throw myself on my bed, I lost my virginity in this room, to Ben and I could have conceived Jess in this bed? As I think about him, I cry, really cry as my memories of him flood back, to those fateful weeks before we were parted...\n\n\"Grandy I have to go to Dads, and I don't want to leave Ben? He can only get so much time off work, and I don't think I can manage all that time without seeing him, he and I have hardly spent any time apart in the past eight months.\"\n\n\"I do know Little Bird, he was only meant to be here two weeks, whilst he spruced his place up. That was what four months ago?\"\n\n\"Grandy, do you want him to leave? I'm sorry, it's just his brother is staying there with a friend, and poor Ben says he's being weirder than usual. He thinks he can just finish university, and he can just take over the whole company, so Ben staying here has been calming for him, having to deal with him at work and home is too much.\"\n\n\"He can stay as long as you want, it's your home and he's your chap. I like having a man about the place. I wouldn't worry too much about Ben being upset at missing you, he too has things he has to do, he was just saying last night, he was thinking another trip to Italy and China is on the cards, their casino build is hitting a bad patch in construction, did he not tell you?\"\n\n\"Probably, but I've been studying so hard, I switch off and I um at the right places, but his work is so confusing, the legal stuff I understand. It's just they have their fingers in so many pies. When is enough money enough Grandy? I have enough for us to be comfortable, hell he has more than enough now?\"\n\n\"Well, each to one's own, I can't explain the money thing, it allows me to travel and not worry about finances, reminds me Little Bird, I'm away tomorrow, so whatever you decide is fine by me, your father will be fine too? I think the break will do you both good, and it's only two weeks this time, he managed the month you did at your fathers at the start of the romance, so this, this will be a walk in the park?\" I agreed. \"Besides absence makes the heart grow fonder.\"\n\nI go for a bath and as I lay soaking in the tub, he comes in from the office. We did just slip into this living together thing so casually, well it worked, and we worked. Did I really only just notice that that had happened? He walked into the bathroom and sat on the toilet lid watching me bathe.\n\n\"Baby, I don't feel well, I think I'm coming down with a cold? I feel like crap! Would you mind giving the meal with Paulo and his friend a miss? I want to get a bath, take some painkillers and get in our bed and snuggle in with you?\"\n\n\"No, that's fine, from what you have said about him, I don't think I like him already.\" Besides I had seen him already, he called me a gold digger, something I haven't told Ben about.\n\nHe was with his back to the car and was on his phone talking to his friend, about Leo's new bitch, who was keeping him occupied. I heard him say I was just another one of his whores, and they would have more money to shell out, his poor parents would have too when this fling turned sour. I was hurt, too hurt to say anything. Their relationship, that was worse since he had started working for the company full time. I didn't want to add to the stress, besides Ben knew I didn't need his money. Paulo didn't know that though, and Ben wasn't keen to introduce me to the family. He said they were complicated and not as nice as Grandy. He'd said that everyone he had taken to see them, was given the third degree and was made to feel horrid about themselves.\n\nHe didn't want them to spoil us. I didn't mind, I loved him not his family, besides I didn't have enough hours in the day for all I had already in my life, so throwing other people in the mix, no thanks. As it was Charlie and I now only snatched the odd lunch date in, here and there and the very odd night out, she too noticed the change in Ben, and made the joke it was time we considered making it legal. I laughed and said we were fine as we were, but I did like the idea and would snap his hand off, if he asked me. I loved him so completely. I woke from my daydreams, as he spoke again.\n\n\"I have some trips I have to do, and Grandy says you're worried about telling me you're off for another two weeks to Arizona? You have to go to see your dad, he will be expecting you. I have to see my parents all the time, but I manage to get away with short stays, combining business and seeing them is enough. Believe me they are tough cookies to crack. I can grab some time off when I finish in China?\"\n\n\"Is that alright, I was worried? Look at us like an old married couple sat here and at home on a Friday night, even if one of us is milking being ill, get undressed and get in here, share the germs husband.\"\n\n\"That sounds good, shift over wife.\" So, not for the first time we had a long relaxing soak in the tub, which always led to sex. Even with a cold, he was insatiable. He and I are so compatible in that department, and we work in other ways too, wonderfully so. He seems happy enough, and we make each other laugh. I can't imagine my life without him in it. As the water is on its third reheat, we get out wrinkly and clean, fluffy pyjamas on for me whilst he lounges in bed in his pyjama bottoms.\n\nI go to get him painkillers, vapour rub, and oils to burn in the vaporisers. He seems to have become worse since the bath. Oh hell, he's such a baby, and I was told not to forget his damn soup... He has a temperature when I get back with my nursing supplies. Umm, if we survive him having man flu, we will survive anything. We have an unsettled night because he really is poorly. I get up to see Grandy off, she is all packed and awaiting Ludwig, Stein and company for their much talked about trek. I laugh at the sight of Grandy she is going trekking in the Himalayas and she actually looks like the much fabled yeti, in her coat. I do hope nobody shoots her. I don't say anything though, and as the taxi comes for her, I wave her off as I do, she shouts she will be back when the wind changes, Grandy speak for when she's had enough...\n\n\"See you in about six weeks Little Bird, enjoy Arizona.\" I wave as she pulls away. Oh, to be as adventurous as her.\n\nI go to see to the invalid, and he really is ill. I feed him more soup and mop his brow, oh my poor baby. That was Saturday over and done with and by Sunday, I had joined him, but I got it worse because I was sick too and lord was I ill, our room looked like an explosion in a tissue factory. The steamers were working to capacity and the smell of the eucalyptus oil and the mint concoction stunk out the room, and what was with him? Even though we are dying, he still needed sex, I was exhausted. His excuse was very good actually, that we needed to sweat it out and no, it didn't work for me, but he seemed to get better.\n\nI gave up three more days to my bed and he got better and went back to work leaving me throwing my guts up. So not a good look and he's now seen me looking like an alcoholic old soak. What with my big red nose, it's snotty and sneezing too, and I'm feeling crap and crankier than usual. Yet still he said he loved me, as he brought me soup and mopped my brow when he got home from work. He laughed too, as I sneezed, shooting snot and soup, all over him, such a bloody good look, not. I slept so comfortably though wrapped in his arms.\n\nThen at the weekend we had to part for at least four weeks. I was panicking, thinking the worst that he would find someone else. He also said I should go and meet his parents and go with him, but I had to go to see my dad because I missed him too. We needed to sort out our lives, as they seem to be getting so complicated with pleasing other people now, instead of just ourselves. Those were the worst five weeks in my life, five whole weeks he was away. I was away just the two. He came back tired, a little more stressed than usual and yet strangely happy to see me, he threw himself at me as he walked back in. We'd had phone contact at all times and we sent each other lengthy emails. He rushed me straight to our room, saying never again, and that a month was excessively too long between kisses, he'd missed me too much to do it again, I ummed and oh-ed.\n\nWe made up for lost time when he got back, we spent a whole two days in bed living on food being delivered to the house. We didn't leave the bedroom for most of it, and then one more night of screaming and chasing each other around the house, I'm so thankful these walls couldn't talk. Grandy was back in the morning, so we made up for missing each other one last time. He would be really busy at work in the next month and me? I was trying to get my head into the exams, the course work and being part of a couple, it was harder to juggle than I first thought it would be, his world was mainly spent with clients, going for dinner meetings, meetings that went into the long hours. I was usually exhausted, sometimes bored, but always there on his arm when he needed me.\n\n\"How do you fancy going to the lakes at the weekend? Have sometime hiking in the mountains, do some exercise other than bedtime Olympics?\"\n\n\"Yes, as long as it includes bedtime Olympics there too?\"\n\n\"Of course it does when do we not do that?\"\n\n\"You do that so well Sara! Oh, Mom and Dad want to see you too, I said we could perhaps go after you finish university for the summer? I will come with you to see your dad and get his permission to date you?\"\n\n\"Date me? We have been living together for nearly six months Ben?\" He laughed.\n\n\"Well you know what I mean? I have a couple more big trips to do too, a week in Vegas, and another two in China, then a few days in Italy for a big board meeting. You could come to see them then and I could do the Vegas trip perhaps we could go and see your dad? We do seem to be like an old married couple, you're right. I hadn't thought about it, not until Delphia asked was I going home to the wife? Then I realised that yes, we have spent all our time together, like a married couple? I hadn't thought of us like that, but I must admit it made me smile knowing I had you to come home to, as it does all the time. Thank you for falling for me and ruining my favourite Armani Sara.\" I laughed, as he rewarded me for ruining his suit again.\n\nGrandy came home the morning after, with her bags full of treasures and tales. She regaled us about the wonderful time she'd had me I sat and watched as Ben smiled. He was up to something.\n\n\"Well you two what's the next few weeks got in store? We need to plan. Sara, you're in Arizona for the summer and for two months, yes?\" I sighed.\n\n\"I've a bucket full of exams to finish as you both know. I've also been asked to do a movie with my mother too. She needs me to ride for her as I can pass as her double. Grandy, don't look at me like that, I so wanted to say no, but I am assured we would have little or no contact, and if she is happy she leaves us alone, and she didn't do too well the last time she was on a horse. So why the hell she's agreed I will never know, it's her big come back and she was nearly begging me for my help. I've said I will do it, but for no more than two weeks, there's not that many scenes on horseback, so it should be fine. Besides I think Declan arranged this and I think she too had her arm twisted, she sort of hinted that he would be angry at her.\" Grandy smiled. \"But this will shoot her back up there, she thinks people will call here to, so be warned, her nuttier fans may call.\"\n\n\"She asked for your help, how very unlike my daughter, you are both blonde and that is as near to looking alike as it gets. Is she being accompanied by your brother?\"\n\n\"Yes, he'll be there it was Declan who brokered the deal, he has heard I am seeing a zillionaire and wants to see you too Ben. I told him to do one, but what I should have asked him was how he know? I want as little as possible to do with Brother Dumb. I have to go again to Arizona yes, but not for two months. I can't it's too long a time to be away from you and I did tell Dad I wouldn't be there as much because of you and I Ben? He was surprisingly fine with it.\" Ben laughed, as Grandy was busy taking notes.\n\n\"My turn, I should just give you Delphia's extension number and we could coordinate our diaries Grandy. I have to go to China again in four weeks, it can't be helped Sara. We are building the biggest casino in the group, and it's costing a small fortune. Paulo has been standing in for me, so I don't have to be there all the time and so whilst you're in Arizona, I will be there giving him a break. Where are you off too this time Grandy?\"\n\n\"Umm I may join Sara at the reservation or join Ludwig and Stein down or up the Amazon, I've not yet decided. I will go wherever the wind may carry me as always. So, we have four weeks left of 'Miss Cranky Knickers' her exams and then we part for the summer, right?\" We all nod.\n\nThe month had flown by and then the day before we were to part for the summer, I did the test, because I had missed another period. I'd done the test before Ben got back from work, I was nervous, excited and shitting it too and as the lines appeared, I was shocked. I had hoped it was just down to exam stress, but no, I'm going to be a mom.\n\nI told Grandy first, as I needed some reassurances, she is always my sounding block for great advice, she was ecstatic. She assured me whatever Ben said or did she would be there for me, and not to worry too much about Ben, the man was head over heels in love with me and my temper too. Giving me the warmest and longest of her Grandy hugs, she went to see her friend Ludwig for the week. I had to go and tell Mother the film was a no go, as I'd be too far along at six months, to either pass as her double, or to do the stunts she needed to do. She doesn't have a phone at the castle, or rather Grandy nor I will pay for one, it is after all empty the majority of the time. She's been stopping there to rehearse her new film role and the brother from hell is joining her. He's supposed to be at a friend's for the summer, but he's probably pissed them off, or worn out his welcome there too.\n\nBen is away in Italy for two or three days too, so it seemed the perfect chance to tell her. I need a break, so two days with them would not kill me. Besides, it's a nice place to get my head together. I would get back, and then I'd wait for him to come home and make him, either a romantic meal or the last supper? I wasn't sure either way, but he did say he wanted loads of children and I had to pray it was with me? So, I threw the stick in the bathroom drawer and cried.\n\nHe came in from work and I was still crying I told him it was because I wanted to go to China with him and we argued a little, he'd already said it was all work and he would be working long hours and not be able to see me much, I was convinced he had someone else. I couldn't tell him about the baby, he was so stressed with the China deal, plus I'd been off with him for a few days. I had an inkling I was pregnant and had been a little snappy, but given I'd had a stressful month of exams he'd been quite patient with me.\n\nI decided I would either tell him when he got back from his parent's place and possibly even when he returned from China. He didn't need the added stress of an unplanned pregnancy too and to be worrying about me whilst he was over there. I was sure he'd be fine with the news he was going to be a father, he sort of hinted he wanted to be a young parent as his were so much older, and he wanted to be nothing like them. Our last night together was wonderful, and as we cuddled after we'd made love he held me close to him and whispered he wanted me in his life forever and to grow old and grey together, I lay on his chest and fell asleep, so in love with him I very nearly told him, how I wish I had. The next day, I left for Scotland, and he for Italy, that last kiss lingered on my lips like a coating of sweet honey. He'd be back in a couple of days and said he would see me when he got back. He had something to ask of me, I'd hoped he was going to ask me to marry him.\n\nI wake and as I do, I feel his lips against mine and cry some more, it was only a dream. I look over at the door and Jess is there. I shrug the last pleasant memory of him away, and as I look over at her stood watching me, in the same place, where her father would lean against the doorframe, just as she is doing now, he'd watch me when he got home from work. I'd decide today is the day. This is the day she learns the truth and the reasons why I hate my mother and brother, and finally all about Ben. I am ready to tell Jess everything, warts and all. Being here makes me finally realise that she has a right to know because of them, her father is dead.\n\n\"Do you want to see your Dad?\" She smiles. \"Obviously, it's in photo's Jess. I'm sorry I can't raise the dead, even for you, would that I could.\" I'm joined on the bed as she hugs me.\n\n\"Please Mom, I have a small picture it's a little fuzzy and old. The Duchess gave me one, she figured I needed to know I had a dad but swore me to secrecy. She figured you'd tell me about him when you were ready. She always asked me if I had been told yet. Can I see my beautiful father then? Grandy did say he was gorgeous, and I looked so like him, and that's why you were sad. Show me my dad then Mom, hurry up before I die of excitement. Did I tell you this is the best trip ever?\" I smile, my father and Grandy told my daughter more that they all let on.\n\nI hand her the albums from under the bed, and as I do, I see a pair of his shoes and pick them up, and as I finger the leather, I cry some more. My room is like a time capsule of emotions. I go to the bathroom and wonder if it's still in the dresser drawer? I open it and it is. His aftershave is there, so too the pregnancy test. It's still in the drawer where I shoved it that last day. Jess is behind me.\n\n\"Are you alright Mom? Eww's, what's that? Please tell me it's not what I think it is?\" I laugh.\n\n\"Umm the pee stick that told me I was having you. Yes, I was keeping it to show your Dad. This was his favourite cologne, he always wore it.\" She squirted it and cried. \"What's the matter Jess? Please don't cry Little Bird.\" I hug my girl tightly.\n\n\"Mom, why did he die and leave me? He left you too. Do you know how or why?\" I joined her in the tears.\n\n\"He never left me Baby, he didn't know where I was, he thought I had left him. I hadn't and well I think you're ready to know the whole tale, and then I will answer any questions you have? You have waited long enough to ask Little Bird.\" She put the cologne back after squirting herself with it again.\n\n\"My Dad was the last one to touch this, and I have touched it now too.\"\n\n\"Oh Jess, I'm sorry that's the only memory I can give you of him, that the photos and his clothes which are still here.\" She and I went to get comfortable. It would be a long night. \"So Jess the story of why I didn't want to come back, and why he never knew anything about you, are you ready Little Bird?\" She nodded. Where do I begin? I told her to shush and just let me tell her my own way and to ask questions when I finished, and of course she agreed, she was desperate to know about him.\n\nChapter 5:\n\n\"I went to see my mother and brother at the castle I own in Scotland, to tell your Grandmother and Uncle that I would not be able to do the film with them, and why, because I was having you. I was only going to be away a couple of days and then I was going to tell your father I was pregnant. He was away in Italy for a couple of days and I had been a little crabby with him. I figured the time apart would do us good, anyhow I'd turned up at her door, well technically my door, as the castle was mine. It started off really badly the meeting, because all Daniella did was thank me for helping her and she kept telling me I was the answer to her troubles, and that I was her last chance. Great that wasn't what I wanted, to dash all her hopes. The telling her of my reasons why I couldn't do the riding for her, were soon over.\n\nShe took it quite well, that she was going to be a Grandma, but I thought it was too good to be true, because then she had a drink or two in her rooms and came back downstairs more relaxed. She wasn't as guarded with her words when she had a few gins in her, she said I was too young, I would have to have a termination. I was too young to be tied down, what if your father didn't want it, or me? She had dinner with the film producer and director to go to, but she would be back later to discuss things in more detail.\" Jess was biting her lip but was already fuming. \"Your Uncle Declan was up to something. He was on his phone and speaking in a muted voice as soon as he heard my news. Declan was up to no good, he'd hidden my car keys and my phone was no longer charging where I had left it. So I had no way of contacting anyone, it was too dark outside to be wandering the moors at night, so I decided to leave first thing, the following morning, when I'd found my missing keys or had the car recovery guys break in and start it, my spares were here in London.\"\n\n\"Did they have them?\" I nodded.\n\n\"Yes Jess, I had a niggling doubt they were up to no good, so I stashed my stuff in its hidey hole, when they left for the said important dinner. Mother said she wanted to talk more when she got back, about a termination or its possible adoption. To make sure I was there when they returned, Declan then told me he had taken my things, because he was making sure I stopped there. What planet was she on? My child, you Jess, were going nowhere, your father and I were in love, and we'd talked and planned to be together forever.\n\nThey had gone for dinner as they said they would and when they got back, the talk ended up in a shouting match of her telling me I had to have a termination. I refused, it was a heated debate and then she wanted a special hot chocolate to calm down before bed, sleeping pills, and rum in her chocolate. She had Uncle Declan make us drinks, she said we would wake up and talk more reasonably, when we had all slept on it? There was nothing to discuss I was out of there as soon as I woke in the morning, even if it meant walking.\"\n\n\"Something bad happened I can tell Mom...\" I hugged her tightly.\n\n\"Yes Jess, it did. I think they must have drugged my hot chocolate, because whilst I slept, they'd locked me away in the back tower, away from prying eyes. I hated them, and I swore I would kill someone for doing that. Declan was the one who locked me away, I found out by listening to his conversations of their plans. Oh and what plans they were, I was to be locked away to await your delivery and then you would subsequently be adopted into a good family, they already had one waiting in the wings, to whisk you away as soon as you arrived, they were selling my baby for cash.\" Jess was angry and swore quite a lot too. \"I'd cried for weeks whilst I was locked away, all the time hoping and praying your dad would come and look for me, but he never did. I think I'd been there for weeks possibly, months? I was unsure of the time or how many days I was there. I only knew that in my belly you grew, and you moved.\n\nThe first few weeks were horrendous, they melded into just more days spent without him. Locked in that prison tower and being kept from him, praying that they'd change their minds, and your dad would be waiting for me when I got out, or when I escaped. I had tried all ways of escaping, but it was impossible. There was just the one door leading into my room, bolted on the outside. One bay window, too high to jump from, but I tried the knotting together of the sheets, only to have them taken from the bed, as were the curtains and my clothes. I had just a pillow and the feather quilt. I couldn't reach the roof to climb up and go over either and yes, I tried Jess, I really tried.\"\n\n\"Mom shush, I bet you did. I hate them, and I fear there is worse to come.\" Again, I nodded.\n\n\"Then that that awful day came, the day I died inside even more than I already had. I was sat reading, when Uncle Declan came in laughing, he threw a newspaper at me, that was when I learned your father, he had been killed in a car accident. The story was there in black and white, Declan laughed and locked the door. I had read that paper over and over for two weeks and they were two rotten weeks, were I cried and cried. I remember every word of that article, it was all I read for weeks Jess.\n\n'Ben Vinci, model and playboy socialite was today killed in a presumed drunk driving accident, whilst driving his fiancée to meet his parents. She escaped with just a few cuts and minor abrasions. She is fellow socialite and model Charlotte Ginsburg, who is said to be resting comfortably, in their new Parisian home by the Seine, and is awaiting the delivery of their child who is due in six months. Their baby was unharmed, and she is being comforted by both their parents. Mr Vinci's parents who are ecstatic to learn she was carrying their grandchild, a first for both families.\n\nMiss Ginsburg wishes to be left alone to grieve and await the delivery. She can throw no further light on the cause of the crash. The accident was caused, it is believed, because he had swerved to miss an object in the road and hit a tree, killing him instantly. He had been drinking and they had been arguing in the restaurant before their crash and Vinci's untimely death, these allegations have been quashed by Ms Ginsberg as laughable, he never drank and then drove his car, and they never rowed. Whatever happened though, will remain a great mystery, as she does not remember arguing. Just swerving to miss, what she thought was an animal...\"\n\nI was now being comforted by Jess, and I comforted her too, we had a hot chocolate and I continued. She was doing that Dad thing she does, the processing and letting it all sink in. Lord will there be questions. I continued the epic tale.\n\n\"I cried, clutching at my stomach. I thought she was my best friend, he I thought, wanted to marry me and take me to see his parents? He promised me he loved me Jess, only me, yet he lied, you can't move on that quickly, you're nearly sixteen and I can't move on. I'd been in there for months, of course he'd moved on, because he never loved me like I did him. I reasoned that he must have thought I had dumped him, after all we had been arguing and a lot in the week leading up to our separate trips. I wasn't sure how to tell him about you our baby and was crankier with him than I needed to be. Oh Jess, I'm sorry.\"\n\n\"Mom carry on, I don't blame you for not telling me about my brother or sister now, I would have been kinda pissed off too, please stop crying and just tell me everything, even if you think it will hurt me, I need to know everything please?\" I continued.\n\n\"My only glimmer of hope was that he did love me and that he had waited and grieved, and that grief was his reason for moving on and with Charlie, because we had all been close friends. Perhaps she was his rebound girl, or the one he comforted and so soon after me, perhaps a one off, with no protection taken and his over-whelming need to do the right thing, meant he was marrying her, because of the baby and that he still loved me? It all made sense in my head and made it easier to think she was just a one-off mistake, rather than he had moved on so quickly and in doing so had forgotten me. It helped for a while to believe he had loved me, he didn't know I was there, he was heartbroken and had found comfort with my friend, who would be missing me too.\n\nMy life would have ended that day too, had you not needed me Jess, I could have quite easily ended it all. I would have jumped out of the window such was the grief, the loss and betrayal I felt. I stood by the window for quite a while contemplating it, but instead I cried for a few more days. I went mad with the grief, then yes, they were back the negative thoughts. My logic was all over the place, I was going mad with the loneliness and grief, not the best of bed buddies at the best of times. I had been dumped and he'd moved on with her I was so confused and in turmoil. Your dad was dead whatever had happened, and didn't know about you, our baby. I needed to get out, I had to save you from being sold. You were in danger and the other child of his was in a cosy Parisian apartment, its mother was being fussed over by his parents. I should be there not here, it should have been me, not her being fussed over and grieving his loss with them and then God did I hate Charlotte more, but it also gave me a renewed vigour to get out and get out I would, then God help Uncle Declan and your Grandma.\n\nThen as if heaven sent, my prayers were answered. I would have to grab at what I thought was possibly, my only chance to escape, before it was too late. They were off to start shooting that bloody picture in Morocco, they found a stunt double to take over the riding. Declan told the insurance people, well he insisted on it after her last fall caused her great injuries to her back. Did he have to remind them it cost the last studio an awful lot of money, he'd hate for her to have to fall and sue them again.\n\nShe wasn't as young as she was and may break more bones. I laughed hearing him say that. I wanted her to break her neck, followed by his. They hired a nurse, to care for me whilst they were away, telling her I was a paranoid schizophrenic and only calm on my medication. I wasn't Jess, I was just upset and confused. Given I was messed up about your father, grieving his death and the double betrayal, I would mumble at them, seeing them stood in the corner, kissing each other mocking me.\n\nI hallucinated all the time, I'd have long talks with them, I'd scream at them, throw things swear at them, you name it I did it. My imagination was playing tricks on me, it was all down to the loneliness at being locked away and for so long, with no one to talk to, so it all looked quite plausible on the face of things. Declan always thought I was asleep when he spoke to the nurse, guard or whoever she was? His friends called too, though they always stayed just outside the door. I never saw faces, just heard their voices, telling him they had a buyer for you, a good family, wealthy and the kid would easily pass as the wife's. He was told to make sure the merchandise was kept safe, and then they'd pass him his drugs, I presumed he was just that, his dealer?\n\nI learned an awful lot that summer, locked in the tower, about the money he needed from the film, and from selling my child to save him from kneecapping, as he'd borrowed heavily for his habits and couldn't pay it back. Both Grandy and his mother were refusing to bail him out. Declan's habit was getting worse. Mother never came to see me, I thought she must have truly hated me. Then the nurse took over my sole care. They had been gone for quite a while, the days were a hazy existence, reading, crying plotting and planning, days came, and they went.\n\nPossibly two weeks had passed since they'd left me with Nurse Tipsy. She answered phone calls telling them the baby was fine. She'd have a drink and sit and watch me as I watched her, I had to wonder had she been told not to speak to me? She was always so drunk when she fed me or handed me clean clothes. I'd started asking her for afternoon tea, and for her to join me, which she did, so after a while she trusted me. Unfortunately for her, and unbeknownst to the poor nurse, she was my way out. They'd hired her to look after me. Who was looking out for her, she was hopeless and a drunk?\" Jessica whooped, way to go Mom, I laughed at her reaction too.\n\n\"The nurse joined me for tea, as usual locking the door and sitting in her comfy chair, she was three sheets to the wind, sorry Jess that means drunk, before she even sat down, it must have been hard for her only having the nut job for company, that and the very good wine cellar? I decided to make a play for escaping, and it had to be that day too, as they were due back the following day. She'd asked me to be mother, so I poured her a really sweet tea as she'd asked for and as she sipped I talked calmly, the music playing in the back ground was so soothing, after not too long a wait, she fell asleep and I made my run for freedom. My crushed pills had knocked her spark out, as they were supposed to do to me. I grabbed her keys and then locked her in.\" We had a much needed pit stop, for the toilet, for pizza and for more sodas.\n\n\"Gheeze Mom no wonder you never told me. I think you were really brave. They are mother-fucking arseholes.\" I spluttered out my coke, as she told me to continue.\n\n\"They were back in the morning, and she wouldn't die in there, and so what if she did, the body and her were their problems, not mine. No, they couldn't say my sister did it, the one we locked away, win, win for me, I was out. They though had ripped my room apart searching for my papers, passports, and stuff. My things were all over the place, they had even taken apart the library, my place to retreat to on the rare occasions I stopped here in my youth, with Grandy. I don't know what made me hide it all in the nook that night, but I'm glad I did. I took my stash of money and passports from their hiding place in my mother's own room. The last place they would have ever looked. I packed the well-read newspaper and my treasures and made ready for my escape.\n\nSo ended my months of imprisonment. Uncle Declan was behind all this, my sixteen year old monster for a brother had kept me captive. I swore someday I would come back and make him pay for what he had done to me, to us, but I needed to get to safety. I would make him pay, after having had you. I would kill him, because of him, your dad was dead, and you Jess had no father. I had everything I needed, having found my car keys in my car and packed what few possessions I had, and I drove to Glasgow airport, putting it in the parking garage there and leaving Grandy's address and phone number, she would arrange a pick up when she was back in the country. She hadn't answered her bloody phone, so I flew to the safety of your grandad's waiting arms.\n\nHe, it seems, had been told by Declan I was with your father and his family in Italy, and I would be going travelling with Grandy for a while. They told Grandy I had gone to see my father and was having the baby there. So, because she didn't have to worry about me, she had gone on a world tour, reliving her youth before it was too late and before the sprog came, that's you by the way. Until you were ready to come, she was travelling, whilst she still could. She trusted their word that I had gone to the ranch. I did wonder why nobody ever questioned my lack of verbal communication over the months?\"\n\n\"Yeah, were they stupid did they not have phones? I remember The Duchess ringing every day when she was away, is that why Mom, in case they took you again?\"\n\n\"I think she liked hearing your voice, and besides she cut back after I had you, she missed playing with you. Let me continue Jess, this is taking forever where was I, yes, so when I got to dads I broke down as I arrived at the airport, I was safe there and I mean truly safe. The lack of questions on my whereabouts was soon explained too, there were postcards from all over the place. Grandy flew in days later, she too had letters and postcards from my travels. It seems Declan was very good at convincing them I was travelling.\n\nGrandy had a letter too from your father's family asking that all personal effects he'd had at the house be returned to them and there would be no further contact. Their son had died, and they blamed me. Why I never knew, it wasn't like I was in the bloody car with him? I think that's why the shunned you and hated me? I didn't know your father's parents, but according to Ben were a nightmare, and now one's I'm glad I never met Jess. Grandy ignored the subsequent letters and she too was mad at his family, as she said their loss our gain, we didn't now have to share you, and she was right. Though I suspect she did send letters, but hers too fell on stony ground. I was given a full work up on my arrival in Arizona and given a clean bill of health, so were you, my seven month old baby girl was fine and dandy and you were very health in there.\n\nGrandad sent his family and my mother and brother a very lengthy legal letter severing all ties, and told them all to keep their distance, or we would have them prosecuted. I never wanted to see them again, a court case would mean I would need to see them, and I would have had to return to England. I wasn't sure what the people he'd sold you to would have to say, you know, about there not being a baby for them to adopt. I did worry would they search you out and would take you. With Dad, we were safe, perhaps they would exact their revenge on Declan, I had to hope so.\n\nMy nightmares continued each night. Dad would hold me until I slept. He made me a new dream catcher, you've seen it, it's the big one I have over my bed back home? That's the same one, the one decorated with owl feathers and white hawk feathers with crystals woven in the intricate webbing. It was made to catch the new and horrid nightmares, and allow pleasant dreams through, and it worked too after a few nights, my sleep returned to normal, it helped that old Bonnie was sleeping on my bed. She helped, she let nobody near me except Dad and Grandy.\n\nYou my beautiful daughter, were born two months later, healthy and beautiful and lord you had your father in you, too much really. You were his double you were my new start and my whole life. I'd carried on with my law degree and graduated top of my class the following year, and with Dad's help, I had excelled in law school. My dad stood there looking so proud holding you so tightly his Granddaughter, Grandy was happy too when I graduated. Then I joined his firm. It all seems so long ago now Jess, but those actions they took, deprived you both of knowing each other, he would have loved you so much baby.\n\nHe left me with you, and for that, I will be forever grateful, and they got the other child he had fathered. Unfortunately, it was the only one they recognised and that was Charlotte's child. I hated them and her more, all my calls fell on deaf ears, so I stopped bothering after a couple of years. You were then just my little miracle and very much loved, their loss not mine. Each year on your birthday though, I would send them a photograph and each year you looked more like him. Now, we're back here where my memories of him are haunting me. He'd never been with me to Arizona, but here in London Jess, we have places to go that your dad and I had been to as a loving couple, and that's why I wasn't ready to come back. Even after so long, my heart still aches for him, but ready I had to be, because you Jessica needed answers to your questions, honest and truthful answers this time and now you finally know everything and why it is I truly hate my mom and brother. You and I, Jessica Jay Bird, we're heading into murky uncharted waters. What does Daniella want and why now?\"\n\nI had told her the whole tale and let me tell you that was so bloody cathartic, not having to keep those awful things to myself. As we sat, we'd eaten the pizza we'd had delivered. She was now sat open mouthed and shocked at what her uncle and her grandma had done, and what they had planned. I had to stop her swearing, quite a few times, the first time she said mother-fuckers, I was dying to laugh.\n\n\"Mom, they were awful. I'm sorry I wrote to her now, please forgive me, we aren't going, she can rot in hell. Fuck her Mom, fuck her, she doesn't deserve us.\" I cried at how mature my baby girl was and told her those were the last time she dropped the f-bomb ever again. \"Does that crap really happen here? They were going to sell me, to buy coke. Shit sorry, Mom the f-bomb is coming to town one last time the mother-fucking pair of bastards, let them go to hell for what they put you through. I never want to see her, and I hope she dies a painful death.\"\n\nShe carried on ranting but in Apache, so I couldn't understand her. I am not as good as my daughter at the language, but I do understand a lot. She would go to the reservation and learn her lessons. I learnt the little I did know, from handling the cases I got at our small practice in White River, and from my months spent at the ranch over the years. I preferred to be out riding, hunting or fishing when I was younger, Jess liked to learn all she could.\n\n\"Jessica Jay Bird, go and wash your mouth out that was nasty little girl, and when did they teach you that in class? I may not know as much as you, but even I know that's a very rude thing to say. Gouyen will be turning in her grave knowing you'd used the beautiful language she taught you, in such a potty mouthed way.\"\n\n\"That wise woman Mom would do as her ancestor did and sneak in and scalp the pair of them. So please don't tell me she would have taken this lying down she was named after a fierce and powerful warrior.\" I shouldn't mock her. She is sometimes more tribal than her grandfather was.\n\nShe certainly has his temper when wronged, it was only me being heavily pregnant that stopped him coming here and doing just what she is threatening to do now, and that makes me happy, knowing that she does take after him too, and yes, she could do it too, she can skin a deer, Elk or a bear if needed, they used their skins in the making of the traditional items they make and sell in the tourist shops mainly for the for the moccasins they buy, as all we Indians wear them.\n\nThe number of complaints we get because we don't now live in wigwams, really their ignorance is unbelievable. Please, they are called wickiups or tipis, if you must. Jess prefers to wear her Sketchers, so do most of the kids she hangs around with. So clichéd, but that's what the tourists thought, and they bought them by the bag full, the dream catchers and the cute teddies, in Indian traditional dress, big sellers too. Jess has a fabulous collection of teddies in all sort of dresses, Grandy has brought her one back from each of her many trips taken, and she has a fair few too.\n\n\"Right well that's decided, they rot in hell and we spend more time doing fun stuff, scalping the pair of them not to be included Little Bird?\" We spent the night going through my room.\n\nI imparted tales of each thing she found, the ticket stubs, the tee shirt she insisted in wearing of his to bed, spraying it with his cologne, to feel close to him. In the bathroom I found the necklace he gave me for my birthday, one he'd had made for me. A symbol for our love, a gift from him, and so many tears cried over that. A golden Humming Bird, because I hummed a lot and usually after sex, I laugh at the memory, it was the best thing he gave me, because he'd designed it himself, yet more tears are had. This bloody room is filled with him. I smiled, as I gave it to his daughter.\n\n\"Mom this is beautiful, it's really sweet, are you sure? This place is kinda cool, why did we not come here before?\" I smiled, now I'm here I did wonder why too? Perhaps it would have been too painful on my own. I am sharing it with the only other person who misses him as much as I do, and perhaps now was the right time.\n\n\"Come on bedtime, we have to sort things out here tomorrow, bedtime, and lights out.\"\n\n\"Night Mom love you to the top of the mountain and back.\" I gave her a smile as she went to sleep in her Grandy's rather cool four poster bed. I swear I heard her jumping up and down on it, and if Grandy is watching, she will have a chuckle, it's what I did when she wasn't around, but somehow, she would always catch me and chase me around the room with the great big pillows, and yes I still did it, even when I was all grown up.\n\nJess and I spent a few days packing away Grandys clothes, to be sent to charity. My things I just wasn't sure about, they were a little dated. After Jess had all but emptied all my drawers and put things in the charity boxes, there wasn't that much left, and it was a good excuse to shop for some better clothes. I needed to be glamorous again, apparently? Her father's stuff was in her suitcase, which was going nowhere. I did take her on the promised ride down the Thames, in my boat.\n\nGrandy had kept it looking as good as new. No wonder she spent so long with us she must have been bloody lonely hanging around here on her own, as all my things were everywhere. I sent my apologies to my mother, and told her all things considered my daughter, and I would not like to meet her after all, and to forget we even existed. We had a few days, sightseeing and spending a few days in the South West of England and seeing the sights Jess wanted to see, Stonehenge was a must.\n\nThen it was down the coast to see where the Mayflower set sail to America, bringing over their diseases, grabbing our lands and waging war on our people for our lands? I don't think that our poor American fellow traveller wanted to hear all this on his holiday, how his ancestors had killed her ancestors for our lands. Poor Bob Hardy from Portland, Maine and his wife Barbie went away with more than a flea in their ears, being as their ancestors were on it. Then we walked around the Barbican, another must. A hike over Dartmoor was had, with Jess hoping to see the hound of the Baskervilles. She needs to stop watching so much television.\n\nI swear she heard what she wanted and believed the crap she heard on television. We then spent a pleasant couple of days in Cornwall, where we didn't see any Piskies, they are Cornish Pixies, I was told. Then from Lands End, and we headed back to Richmond. We made a quick stop at the supermarket for groceries, and I could have sworn I said no to the boxed set of wolves and vampires, so why was it in the trolley then? Popcorn and chips, yeah, more crap films to watch again, deep joy.\n\nFull of beans, we arrived back to find him at my door. I wanted to smack the crap from his smug face. He was stood grinning. I wanted to kill him, I parked at the front of the house and studied the smarmy little bastard, he will pay for what he did, because his taking me prisoner, it meant Ben died. Yes, I'm very bitter, bitter enough to kill him. I'm well trained to do it too, my years of preparation, were all for this day, but I had Jess in the car.\n\n\"Stay in the car Jess, do not get out, I repeat do not get out. If anything, bad happens, please dial 999, and not 911, then ask for the police, if I signal you, do you hear? Do not get out of the car, no matter what Jess?\" I was shouting, something I never do in front of her ever and certainly not at her. She told me she would. I got out and locked the doors.\n\n\"Well, Sister Dearest, isn't this a nice surprise seeing you here, and looking so well, haven't you done well for yourself? Is that the bastard? Mother wants to see you, and don't piss me off, with you'd rather not. I don't want to be here either, but I was called back too. Apparently, the old bitch is dying, and she wants to make her peace.\"\n\n\"I don't care one tiny atom if she is dying. I just hope it's a lonely painful death and hope that you join her soon after. That is my daughter Jess, and she is no bastard, I think that title goes to you, she knows who her father is. Take your evil arse back and tell her it will be a cold day in hell before I ever, I repeat, ever go to her house again. The last time didn't go too well for me, do you not remember? It cost Ben a chance of seeing his daughter, and her from seeing her father. Leave before I signal to Jess to phone the police.\" He came down the steps and passed me.\n\n\"What if I told you a secret that will change your life, would you come then?\" I laughed.\n\n\"Right, and what could you possibly tell me to change my life? I know who my father is, I know my mother is a freak, and I know you brother, have more than a few slates missing off the roof.\"\n\n\"Now, now Pocahontas, this would benefit your daughter too, a chance to see where her father is? I don't suppose you know where he is, or do you?\" He was right, I hadn't been able to find out, but I was sure he'd been taken back to Italy and placed in the family crypt.\n\n\"So, how do I know I can trust you? You pair haven't got that great a track record of earning my trust, do you? As far as my daughter's health and safety are concerned, I don't want you anywhere near her?\" He smirked.\n\n\"I have more to lose this time, I get nothing if you don't turn up, and you get to know where lover boy is?\" I look at Jess and agree. \"Mothers flat tomorrow, we will be there all day. I have things to run over with her, money property and the things she's leaving me! It shouldn't take too long and then we never have to see you again?\"\n\n\"Right and who else will be there?\"\n\n\"You're safe, she has a nurse who is in attendance, and her secretary. Her book has made her a lot of money. It's the biggest pile of shit I have ever read, but her fans like it.\" I laugh, it's the first thing we have ever agreed on.\n\n\"Well, I will see you tomorrow, and any funny stuff and you will be sorry? I'm not the frightened girl I was back then.\"\n\n\"See you tomorrow and Mother wants to see her granddaughter. She has to be there too. Not an option and as soon as its over I give you the information, as promised.\" I cringe as I watch him walk away. \"Tomorrow, don't forget to bring the half-blood too.\" I get back in the car, and drive to the garage, pulling into the garage, I get out and lock the doors. Finally allowing Jess out of the car, and we take the groceries in, and the bags.\n\n\"Was that who I thought it was Mom?\" I nod as I unpack the food.\n\n\"We have to go see Grandma, she hasn't got long to live, and if we do that one thing, he will tell me where your father is laid to rest. I have never been able to find out. His family have refused all contact, they are like the Cosa Nostra. There are loads of them running interference. I call them the Italian Mafioso and I have never once been allowed to speak to your grandparents, nor his sister or either of his brothers. I had to learn Italian in the end, just so I knew if they were lying to me, I'd pretend I couldn't understand them, and they would speak.\"\n\n\"Is that why I had to take Italian? So, I could speak the same language as my father. How cool, I never knew why you had me learn. I'm just happy we were going to Italy, so I could speak to someone else other than the waiters at the pizza place down the block from the offices. Mom you're really sneaky.\" I laugh as she and I speak in Italian for a while, as we make dinner.\n\n\"We will be alright Mom, you can kick arse if they start on you, and I am coming on great in my Krav Maga classes, Mom. Poppa Eli says I'm nearly as good as you are. Tell me again why you have someone working with you from Mossad, and why is he my godfather Mom?\" I laugh.\n\n\"He was as dear to me as my father was, he swore to look after you if anything happened to me. He had married a good American girl, she got sick, and Dad brought them here to help him, they were old friends, so he brought her here for treatment and stopped. He was retired and so helped Dad in the practice. Nothing more sinister, Jessica Jay, he just happens to be a bloody good private detective. You really have to stop watching television Jess, and realise that not everything in life, is like an episode of N.C.I.S.\" She laughs as she chops the herbs.\n\n\"Really, you could have fooled me, with what you have told me over the past couple of weeks, I beg to differ? Mom your life, well, it's played out as if it was right off the pages of a film script.\"\n\n\"Chop or we won't be eating this side of midnight.\" I smile and agree.\n\n\"Right bossy boots. Mom, do you think we can go to the gym or something before we go around? We need to loosen up a bit and get a little more fitter. I miss working out in our gym, well your works gym.\" I agree I am feeling a little bit of a need to pound the bag a little. I went on Google as the pasta cooked.\n\n\"We're in luck Jess there's a gym that does martial arts and does the total fitness thing, they have a pool too and a masseuse. Should I book for a day pass check it out?\"\n\n\"Please Mom, I'm going to get a quick shower and get ready for bed.\" I ring and book us in for a day trail, at half past six in the morning. They take my credit card details, and we're to meet a fella called Jarrod there, who will walk us through. I laugh. Wait until Jess hears she has to be up at six. It's literally down the road though. We head to bed after our late supper, we have a busy day starting early, and ending who knows when?\n\nChapter 6:\n\n\"Wake up Jess, your kit is over by the dresser, come on Baby get up. Juice is waiting?\" I go downstairs and have my toast, as sleepy head comes down the stairs.\n\n\"Morning Mom, you weren't kidding then? Are we driving or jogging? I need to wake up.\" She has her toast with peanut butter and jam on it and takes a glug from her juice. I watch as she eats.\n\n\"This isn't jelly Mom? It's nice though, kinda chunkier?\" I laugh.\n\n\"It's called jam or more precisely conserve, it's an English thing Baby Bird, they don't do grape jelly here. We'll jog it's literally ten minutes' walk. It's one of the best in the area. I'm told everyone and their mother and anyone who's anyone goes to it.\" As I grab my phone and headphones, I put water and towels in the bag and we head off, getting there just as they are opening. Jess and I have barely broken a sweat.\n\n\"Mrs Bird? I'm Jarrod, I am sorry have I got the name, right?\" I laugh.\n\n\"Yes, this is my daughter Jess and I'm Miss, not Mrs. She would like to use the machines and I want to pound the fight bag, if you have one? We have missed three Krav Maga classes, and we're getting withdrawal symptoms. We work out every day in the gym at work, so that too has been allowed to slide.\" He laughs as he shows us around.\n\n\"You know what you're doing? We don't do Krav Maga here, it's considered too, well too rough. There is a very good mixed martial arts gym a mile down the road. Some of the men here go, it's very popular. Right, here's the gym Jess, if you need any help, give one of the lads a shout or come and get me? I will be holding the bag for your Mom. Will you be alright?\"\n\n\"Yeah, I'll be fine thanks, there's nothing here I haven't done before. See you later Mom. Give me an hour, and we'll meet up on the running machines and do a 10k warm down?\" I laugh because now she's showing off.\n\n\"Right Jess and don't speak to strange people.\" I go to their martial arts studio, and as I look around and I wave at Jess. The gym is filling with people doing their pre-work, workouts. \"Right Jarrod are you ready?\" He holds the bag still, as I start my gruelling kick boxing routine on the bag. The first couple of smacks catch poor Jarrod unawares. I don't think he was expecting the power behind the kick, and as I switch to the higher kicks, he holds the bag firmer. I switch it about and start on the elbow swipes, then punches and I have a fantastic work out. My sweat definitely broke, I watch as others are in now and they are watching as I take my frustrations out on the bag. I note the men watching too, I raise a smile from one or two, and as I finish, I breathe a deep sigh of relief. You can't miss the training for as long as I had, is the feeling my body gets, as I wrap the towel around my neck. I slip on my jacket and take a sip from my bottle.\n\n\"Thanks for that, much appreciated, I'd better join Jess and do her run, if she has the energy left?\"\n\n\"Will you be joining, do you think? I think you will like it.\" I smile.\n\n\"Yes definitely, we will be coming back a lot more now to London, Jess loves it here and I don't think I will be able to keep her away from the place now she's seen it.\" Thanking him, he goes to get the paperwork in order. It is an expensive treat for the couple of times a year we will be here. Jess has said we are coming back and what Jess wants she normally gets. People are leaving and more arriving, lord it is a popular gym.\n\n\"Hi, have you had a good time?\" She removes the headphones.\n\n\"Yeah, it was really good, though it's a little bit posher than your gym in the office Mom. Oh, and a man liked my necklace, he asked where I got it from, I told him my dad had it made for my mom, he said it was very pretty. He knew it was a Humming Bird too.\" I look around. \"You have just missed him, he was the tall guy with the hoody and the dark glasses on, he may have been hung over, I think? He kinda looked really sad too. Do you think he is drinking to forget Mom?\" She laughs, as she plugs herself in.\n\n\"What did I tell you about speaking to strangers Little Bird? Come on we have 10k to do and then we are going for a swim and a massage.\" We ended the morning fully relaxed and are now fully paid up members of a very expensive gym.\n\nI feel like we are being watched, but I think that's because of seeing my brother again. We go home and have breakfast, and as I grab the mail, I look through it, nothing of interest as such, though there looks to be a couple of letters addressed to the occupier from a solicitor. Who's after what now? I can't be bothered looking. I put them to one side and go for a bath then change into my jeans and tee shirt for the meeting later on. Jess too is ready and as we have a couple of hours to spare, we do what we girls do best, we shop. I pull the gates open and we head out, after locking them securely. Since Declan has been around, I don't trust him not to break in, the alarms are the best Grandy could find, being empty a lot it had to be. She had got to protect the family pile what, what.\n\nJessica and I shop for some pretty dresses and shorts, as well as a few tops for Italy. I have the strangest feeling we're being followed. I look in shop windows and turn around quickly, but I'm just being over cautious, but then Declan has me a little paranoid too. I push the thoughts to the back of my head, and we buy her the shoes to go with them. I am by no means a fashionista, but even I know I have to have the shoes I try on, and in two different colours too, how extravagant. They will go very nice with the dresses I bought or rather Jess made me buy, she has filled my bags with some cool clothes... Really, I think I stopped wearing cool when I had her, but I was told I needed to look hot in case the man of my dreams bumps into me and sweeps me off my feet. Right that has only ever happened the once and that ship she has long since sailed on, and without me on board.\n\n\"I think Jessica Jay we have just enough time for a coffee, fancy a milk shake?\"\n\n\"Umm please Mom, I'm a little bit nervous now the time is here. I don't think they are nice people Mom. Why was she like she was, when Grandy was such a really nice person?\"\n\n\"That Jess, is the million-dollar question? One I have always asked too. She was always a bit flighty Grandy said, and she was convinced the nanny had somehow mixed them up in the park.\" We finished the drinks and with bags in hand and we headed for the car and then to my mother's flat, we were not feeling the deep joy as we pulled up, deep dread yes, joy definitely not. \"Whatever you hear Jess, it is more than likely a lie? Remember how much I love you. I promise you if it gets too much we leave. All Declan said was I had to come. He didn't state how long we had to stay.\"\n\n\"It will be fine Mom, I will be fine, stop worrying Team Apache can kick paleface butt if he starts.\" I laugh and hope we don't have to find out. We get out and head for the door, it's answered by a woman, a woman I can only describe as a secretary? As she comes complete with twin set and pearls, with a pair of glasses on a chain hang around her neck, her smile is nice to see as she shakes my hand and Jess's too, she shows us through. A wisp of white musk ascends my nasal passage, and I now realise I am nearing her presence. The smell gets stronger as we approach her bedroom, and I have yet to see Declan. We are offered tea, which we decline.\n\n\"We are not stopping long enough to drink it, but thank you, are you alright, you look upset has she been shouting at you?\"\n\n\"No dear thing, she hasn't. She never shouts, but she is so un-well and this is the happiest I have seen her in months knowing you were coming has brightened her day, and there won't be many more.\" I gulped, I think, so she is dying then. She scuttles off as we enter the room. My father's room looked much like this as he passed, if I didn't know better, I would have guessed we were on a staged film set. The machines are bleeping, the chorus of sounds meld together, and it all sounds too much like my father's last few weeks, stood by his hospital bed whilst he recovered from the fall off the ravine.\n\nThe air she breathes is sucked on, I would have said as if her life was dependant on it, but then it probably is, and she probably does need it. The sickly smell of her perfume burns my nostrils, and as it is, it is mixing with the clinical disinfectant smells and I feel sick. She looks ill, and way too skinny and her eyes are heavy, she struggles for breath and as I watch her, I realise she is really dying. Should I be happy, remorseful? Should I regret shutting her out? I look across at Jess, and it hits me... No, they were trying to take her, she deserves all this and more, and it looks like she is getting my wished for, painful death? I should feel pity or remorse for thinking it, but I don't they did too much, and took too much from me for any type of forgiveness.\n\nThe air pump in the mattress kicks into gear, and as it does the bleeps reach fever pitch, it startles me slightly, it's because then Mom realises, we are stood in the room. The nurse alters the meds in her drip feed and she keeps her gaze on the equipment, doing her job and ignoring me completely, and then mother asks us to come closer, and as we step near, my smarmy brother is hanging around the back of her bedroom, the nurse goes to say something to him and he quickly steps forward.\n\n\"You deemed fit to call Sister, and good you brought the brat?\" I looked at him and then held on to Jess's arm.\n\n\"She brought me, her daughter yes. If there's no need for you to be here then leave, you're just an arse. We have come as requested, so there's no need for you to be here, because if you stay, we go. The choice is yours Grandma?\" She smiles and waves him out. Good for you Jess.\n\n\"She is beautiful Sara, and looks like her father, you must be very proud?\" When did she see Ben, I never introduced them? \"I know your father was, he wrote to me often and had the decency to enclose a photograph or two, which is much more than I deserved. Jessica, please come and let me see you, I don't bite. She has your grandmother's temper I see. He is an arse your uncle, you're quite correct.\" She walked to the bed and I heard my mother cry. \"Beautiful, so very beautiful, she is a credit to you and your father. How is White Eagle? I suspect he's still angry I gave you to mother and not to his squaw, so she could raise you as her own?\" I didn't know if this is a joke or not?\n\n\"My father died five years ago, and she was not his squaw, she was his wife, my mother and a full blood Apache, a daughter of a chief, and she was considered to be royalty amongst our people.\"\n\n\"Our people, you were born here, in this flat in this very bed. I bought the damned clinic they had me in, it was secure enough to keep me in, so it was secure enough to keep the world out. Now let me look at you, please\" Now she's back, the bitch is in the room. \"Why did you not come home when he died, you would have been welcome Sara?\"\n\n\"Mother this is all old news. I have always been a half-breed Apache, or have you forgotten whom you slept with to produce me? My Father was happy for Grandy to raise me, her he trusted. I spent most of my holidays with the other raggedy arsed Indians on the reservation. My home was a shared place between them. As you know, I had two loving homes, with both my father and Grandy, your house was never my home, perhaps that's why? Or perhaps because the last home we shared I did without agreeing to it? What do you want from me Mother? Forgiveness, because that will never come, I'd sooner be stabbed in the heart than forgive you. Did you forget you tried to sell your granddaughter to buy your drugs, or that you kept me prisoner for months, what part of that Mother do you find I should forgive you for?\"\n\n\"Still bitter, such hate in your eyes, your daughter too hates me I see it. I don't need your forgiveness. I don't deserve it, and so I'm not asking for it. No, I haven't very long left, these machines are what's keeping me alive and as soon as you're gone, they can be switched off as far as I'm concerned. No, I want to put right an injustice done to you. I have somethings for you, and then when you get them, I want you to go. I just wanted to see you both and to look upon true beauty before I die, you are the only good thing I ever did with my life.\"\n\nHer nurse messed around with the tubes and I watched what she was doing, and noticed that the medication was being fed in far too quickly? I spent months seeing this done for my father, watching as the nurse did his medication. As I watched her, she panicked, she excused herself and sent in the secretary. She was nice and as she smiled, she had a tear in her eye. Did she really like my mother, go figure someone had to, I suppose?\n\n\"Pass me the box please Ruth, there's a dear, then my Daughter and Granddaughter can leave, you too can then leave and thank you for everything you have done for me.\" She wiped a tear as she passed me the box and disappeared into the back room crying. Shit she really was dying. \"I am not leaving you anything, but those, those you will treasure more than anything of that I can promise you. The money you don't need, you should still have plenty from Mother?\" She heard what I did, Declan opening the door, she smiled and gave me a wink.\n\n\"Declan will get what's due him, he's in for his reward soon enough.\" Declan was hovering by the door as she passed me a large old walnut box with a smile. \"Don't open them here or now, I want you to read them in the morning, that's soon enough Sara, and please when you read them... Declan shut the door or leave.\" I smiled as the door shut. \"Please know I knew nothing, about the great wrong done to you. I didn't know you were in the tower. He and his 'wop friend' did it all without my knowledge. I was told you had gone back to Mothers, when I woke that morning, I was angry that I even suggested you got rid of the baby. The letter I sent to you, apologising for my foul mouth and rancid suggestions and intolerable behaviour that night, was sent straight back to the castle. That was when I got suspicious, that he was up to no good, but...\" She took a deep breath in it was hurting her! I did not want her to die in agony, despite me saying so.\n\n\"Still having my little problem to deal with, I'm sorry to say I will soon forget about it, I did however have all the mail sent to a PO box, both from here and the castle and when we got back from filming. They were all waiting in it, along with a summons from your father, not to contact you, so I didn't. I figured whatever he had done was bad and put the letters in a safety deposit box. In one of my more lucid moments for safety's sake. Ruth collected them for me and put them in the old box she had. Declan just said you were over-reacting again. I am sorry, truly sorry for what he did, but please don't worry he's getting everything he deserves later.\"\n\nI wanted to believe her I really did. I was asked for a kiss goodbye, which I gave her as did Jessica, who was also passed an envelope and told to open it, tomorrow. She had to promise too. She did, and Mother fused over Jess for a little while longer and fell asleep. We quietly left and feeling in my case, a very strange sense of loss, loss perhaps for her being left to die alone, but I couldn't fake feelings for someone who'd had none for me. Perhaps that was hard of me, but thirty-five years of having had very little contact with her, made me that way. We were about to leave when Declan stopped me in the hallway on our way out. He hovered around Jess, making me feel very uncomfortable and his threatening stance had me on pins, Jess stood close.\n\n\"What did she say?\"\n\n\"Just that I didn't need what you were getting, I can only presume because Grandy left me everything she is seeing to it, you get what you deserve. Now, where do I find him Declan?\" He laughed.\n\n\"I am not stupid Sara, I needed to make sure you came, so now you have been here.\" He handed me an envelope with a key in it.\n\n\"It Dear Sister, is the key to the safety deposit box at your bank, you're on the list to allow access. They have your signature, which you need to change, it's too easy to copy. I managed to send letters and postcards to your loved ones, keeping them away from the police, to report you as missing. I particularly loved the Dear John I sent lover boy. Apparently, he was devastated. Daddy dear Jessica then went on a shag fest after Mommy dearest dumped him. She fucked his head to bits, with the following postcards and letters too, fancy him being too ashamed to take Pocahontas home to meet his parents? He went on an almighty shag fest doing anything with a pulse, including your best friend, from what I hear?\n\nSorry yes, I wrote to him too ending it, telling him you'd found someone else, someone, who unlike him wasn't ashamed of taking you home, because you finally realised that's why he hadn't. You weren't good enough for him, you were sorry that a half breed Indian wasn't good enough for them, nor to be seen as his wife, then I sent him postcards signed wishing you were here, it drove him mad in the end. I hope you like what's in there, I will be long gone when you get the contents, so you won't be able to retaliate when you see what is in there, hence not giving you them now. Had you come earlier, and paid a quick visit to the bank, you could have come back and kicked my arse, it is your own fault that ship sailed. Now this has been so pleasant and I better for knowing I never have to see you again, that is unless I come to see you and have a powwow?\"\n\n\"Please do come and see us Uncle Declan, the reservation is under Indian Council Laws, I will see to it you get shot as soon as you step on our land. We can do that we Pocahontas look a like's and this squaw hates you too, my decedent Geronimo, was known for exacting revenge on pale face intruders. I too can scalp a man, I have yet to try it, but I could give it a go with you. Now move your arse, you idiot or I will forget the good manners my mom raised me with. So do come and try to get us on the reservation, I can promise you that if you come, you won't leave and not alive, am I clear? Mom was the best thing Grandma ever did, she was right, and that you you're the worst mistake she ever made.\" Oh, hell Jess spot on again when did my Little Bird learn to fly. He grabbed at Jess's arm, oh no you don't.\n\n\"I knew I couldn't trust you, you bastard.\" I lost it and hit him several times, I think I broke his nose hitting him so hard the last time, because he flew down the hall on his butt, alive, just, but blooded and battered. I put the envelope in my pocket and ran with Jess to the car.\n\n\"That was weird Mom, really weird. Your mom is strange, your brother is a moron with a capital M, and I'm wondering why we have to do as they say? Why shouldn't I open this? Why shouldn't I just rip it up and not bother?\" She placed the wooden box on the back seat.\n\n\"Jess you gave your word, as did I. Come on home, and we can go out for dinner and push the boat out, go somewhere really fancy, a nice swanky place and a show?\" I got a hell yeah. Once we were safely home, I was surprised to see another letter behind the door, hand delivered too. I put it with the rest, it seems I will be doing a lot of reading tomorrow.\n\nChapter 7:\n\nWe dressed to go see Jess's must-see show, The Phantom of the Opera and she was mesmerised as she watched it, but all I wanted to sleep. The interlude came, and we went for drinks. I waited for her at the door to the toilet and as I did, I swear the man I had seen watching me was here too, I definitely needed sleep. I went in to hurry my daughter up, finding her inspecting the cloakroom, strange girl.\n\n\"Mom the washrooms are great in here.\" I laughed. She was impressed with the toilets. My daughter was easily pleased. \"Can we please get a drink, Mom?\"\n\n\"Sure, Little Bird, a glass of Bordeaux, Champagne, or a Sprite?\"\n\n\"Sprite please Mom. Nice try, I had that once you know, Champagne? Wow, it tastes foul, it tastes like crap and I'm sorry that word offends, but it does Mom. Billy said we were drinking the good stuff too, so Lord help you on the cheap stuff?\" I laughed as we made our way to the bar.\n\n\"Glad to know you were sensible. I agree give me a good cup of tea and a glass of orange juice anytime. Billy, does he do it a lot?\"\n\n\"I'm not saying Mom, I'm not a squealer, but let's just say the last time he did it was his last time. His mom nearly took his head off, with the back of her hand, his punishment was really harsh too. He's got to do three more nights of hoop training, he wasn't very impressed either, they are with his Uncle Running Bear and he's really strict, not like those he has with his Cousin Tommy, and he won't be doing it again for a while. We will be making his hoops too, when we get back. I fancy giving it a try it looks really interesting Mom.\"\n\n\"Really, your grandfather was great at it. He tried to teach me, but I was just tempted to hula hoop with them, much frowned upon, so don't do it as a joke, Running Bear takes heritage seriously.\" She scowled, as if she did anything for a joke were her roots were concerned either. \"Come on let's get back the shows about to start, and I don't know about you, but I need food then my bed Jess and a lie in.\"\n\n\"Ditto Mom, I could eat raw beef steak I'm so hungry.\" Erg no... We watched the show and went for dinner. We'd grabbed a late booking at the Ivy, the meal was absolutely wonderful and hollow legs ate the lot. We walked towards the car park and I had that nagging feeling I was being, sorry, we were being watched. I turned and the man from the theatre was following us.\n\n\"Can I help you Sir?\" He looked embarrassed.\n\n\"I don't think so Madam? I'm going for my car it's in the car park here, my wife has sent me for it, as she cannot or will not walk, she's waiting by the Ivy. We have just had a meal, I did notice you in there however, I have to go back to pick her ladyship up. Did I frighten you? I didn't mean to. Please let me introduce myself Cary Underwood.\" He passed me his card. I shook his hand.\n\n\"Here please have my card, not that you need advice on legal issues or that you need advice on your blood rights as an Apache? We are over here on holiday, sorting out my Grandy's home, for possible sale and having a holiday. I am so sorry, I have been a little jumpy of late, seeing people who aren't there, jumping at my own shadow. My car is here, thanks for walking me to it. If I need a systems analyst, I will bear you in mind and thanks again.\" He nodded and walked up a level. I was so relieved. Declan had really pushed my panic buttons. I gathered my thoughts in the car and headed towards the exit, when I happened to look at the pedestrian's street exit from the car park, and he was walking towards a parked car, with someone in the front seat. I shook my head. My imagination is working overtime, again. Jess was nearly asleep when we got home. I pulled into the garage and locked up.\n\n\"Jess, come on Baby Bird, bedtime for sleepy head.\" I carried her to bed, she was just too tired to wake up. I lay her on her bed and went to shut the place up. There was yet another envelope on the mat. \"I am popular tonight.\" I put it with the rest and went to bed. I slept very strange, I had really bad dreams, as I tossed, and I turned. The digital alarm flicked slowly forward and the hours I thought I spent in there were actually just minutes.\n\nI couldn't take it any longer, I got out of bed and headed to the kitchen for a drink. It was one in the morning, when I went to sleep, I seemed to be up there all night and yet it was still only two thirty? This was no good, I needed something stronger than hot chocolate to knock me out. \"Wine Malady? Why I don't mind if I do Sara, and please make it a large one.\" I glugged the wine into a big glass, I grabbed the box and the letters and turned on the desk light and looked at the cache of letters from behind the door. The first three were bills, the second was from an estate agent with a damn good offer for the house. The second was from Grandy's solicitor asking to contact his office regarding Grandy's box at the bank.\n\nThe handwritten ones were intriguing, one was just a phone number, handwritten and a short message, please call me at your earliest convenience, please Miss Bird. I put it to one side and opened the other handwritten one, an address and phone number and I was asked to phone as soon as I could, we had things to discuss, the writing was strangely familiar? This day keeps on getting stranger and stranger. I sipped at the wine, and wondered what was in the walnut box, and would I like it? I moved to a comfortable couch and turned on the fire and I settled in to reveal the mysteries of the box.\n\nI opened it and flicking the hook over and opened it. It was filled with letters. I picked one up from the top of a pile of about thirty letters. I looked at them repeatedly because they were all from Ben, and all sent to Mother's PO box, she was right, some actually had been redirected to the castle from here. Shit Declan had, had my mail forwarded. I may have fallen asleep, because I woke with a stiff neck and I hadn't opened any of Ben's letters, it was just too hard a thing to do yet, so hard that I'd cried myself to sleep. Jess was coming down the stairs and was grumpy.\n\n\"Mom did you sleep down here, and you drank wine too. Is something worrying you?\"\n\n\"No, I want to go and get the letter from the bank, open yours baby.\" She gave it to me to open.\n\n\"Read it Mom, I don't want to.\" I ripped open the envelope.\n\n\"Dear Jessica, Thank you for coming today, by the time you get this I will be long gone, and with me I am taking your Uncle Declan. He will get everything he so richly deserves, with enough money to see him to the end of his days, and by my reckoning that should be today, it should be about an hour, after you leave me, actually.\n\nI cannot forgive him for what he did to your mother and what he thought to do to you, what kind of monster does that make me, your mother was the only good thing I did in my life and she in turn had you, you are a credit to her. I have pictures and reports done on you both, all the time, it gives me comfort knowing you are both safe and protected, after today you will have one less threat in your life, if I don't do it, he would only search you out for what I leave you Jessica.\n\nWhat I leave you, cannot remove from your heart the fact I abandoned my child, but I knew I would mess it all up. Declan is living proof of that. He was a bad seed from the get go, and one who never changed. I hope you both can forgive a mad old woman, her past stupidity and lack of understanding. Those were the two reasons I gave her away, all too painful to admit too, those secrets are written down, and when you read them you will understand why, I hope?\n\nI couldn't have done as good a job at raising you Sara as Mother did, you were her second chance to get it right too, having failed with me. There was a distinct lack of love for me from her, and it was all down to her losing her beloved William, she saying it was my fault, but I was just a baby and not to blame. We had a long chat, and she agreed to take you and do things differently with you. Enough of that read the book it explains everything Sara, do with the book what you will.\n\nWhen you open this, turn on the television and if all goes to plan, I should be on the news as you wake from your slumber. The contents of the safety deposit box are yours to do with as you wish Jessica, though I ask that you give your mother the book, it explains everything, and in detail, this is the one true copy. Declan will be getting a version he thinks is the truth, and he will blackmail the wrong person and they won't let him see the light of day. I needed a backup in place if my plans to have him killed failed. They will see to it he dies and won't be a problem to you. The publishers published the one I wrote as gospel. It was a pure work of fiction both ugly and pathetic.\n\nMy will is with the solicitor, as are the taped versions of the book, all written with dear Ruth, she was a true friend and has been paid well for keeping my secrets, treat her with kindness, she was kind to a mad old woman in her final days. Jessica do whatever you wish with the money I leave you... Give it to the dog's home for all I care, I can't take it with me, best the bitches there get something from this old bitch. Goodbye, and have a sweet life, fill it with love, Grandma.\"\n\n\"Mom does that mean what I think it means, quick turn on the television.\" I did and on screen they were outside Mom's flat, the reporter is speaking, as I try to take it all in.\n\n\"There has been a bizarre, suicide pact of a mother and her son at the house behind us, authorities and the television station received an anonymous tip off that this had occurred last night, around midnight. The police were also called when a person believed to be the woman's personal nurse, returned home and found their bodies. The bodies are thought to be those of Daniella Ware-Kullberg and her only son, Declan Kullberg, authorities are at present seeking nobody else in connection with this matter, as there were notes left by them both. It is believed they state that they couldn't live without each other. Daniella Ware-Kullberg was believed to be suffering from a degenerate heart problem and had recently been sent home after the failure to find a suitable heart replacement, and the police are at present looking for Miss Kullberg's daughter to inform her of their deaths. She is thought to be travelling around England, from her home in America.\" I am in shock.\n\n\"Holy hell, she killed him Mom, like she said she was going to, shit, Mom. I should have opened this, when I got in the car, we could have saved them.\" I was in shock and being hugged to death by Jess.\n\n\"Jess we need to get out of here and go home, straight home back to Tucson and never come back here again.\"\n\n\"No Mom, we are not running away from this, we have done nothing wrong. We need to go to the bank and get these damn boxes.\" I cry because it's then I remember the letters. Ben's letters, no, that's why I passed out, it's impossible?\n\n\"Right let me get a shower and change we can go out for breakfast go to the bank, and then call at the police station and sort this mess out. Declan was a nasty, nasty piece of work and deserved what he got, and Mom actually came through for me and did the world and me a favour. How about we fly to Italy after dinner, just pack light and go buy what we need over there, how about it, Milan and the shops?\"\n\n\"Sounds ace Mom, I need to shower, last one down's a rotten egg.\" We race to the stairs and into our rooms. I wash and change and as ever, she beats me to win the race. I come down the stairs to a knocking on the door.\n\n\"I'll get it Mom.\" I hear strange voices.\n\n\"Hello young lady is your mother at home? I'm Detective Peters and this is my colleague, Constable Bulmer, we'd like a moment of your mother's time?\"\n\n\"Sure, we were coming to see you after we dressed, we woke up to see the news on the television, and it was such a shame we only saw them yesterday, I said to Mom, it was strange her asking to see us for the first time in fifteen years, and all she said was I was pretty, she gave me a kiss, and a letter to tell me to go and see her solicitor. She wanted me to do what I wanted with what she left me, even giving it to the dog's home if I wished. I am sad that she was so ill and happy too that Uncle Declan went with her, he was so sad because she was dying.\" My daughter certainly should be the tribe storyteller.\n\n\"Good morning officers? I heard my daughter telling you of our visit to my mother's yesterday, it was as Jess said very strange. We come all this way for her to tell me my daughter was pretty, and I had done a good job. I was under the impression from what the nurse said Declan had given her the night off, and he would be dealing with the medication, she I think left when we got in the car, along with her secretary. I can't remember her name. Ruth or Ruby perhaps, the nurse wasn't introduced, is what the news crews are saying true, and they are both dead?\"\n\n\"I'm afraid it is yes, they left notes, and had come to a bizarre suicide pact. I believe he injected himself with a lethal injection of morphine and a heroine concoction after he injected your mothers into the drip, and she died peacefully in her sleep, he however had a massive fit, smashing his face quite badly against the bed, in doing so, he also bit off his tongue and it took him quite a while to die, he was a mess. The nurse, a woman called Wendy Price, had remembered something about your mother needing more of her medication, medication she had forgotten to tell your brother about, so she came back early and found them just after midnight. She called the press first and then us, believing they would pay her for the news, stupid woman. Then she tried I believe to call you?\" I looked at my phone.\n\n\"Yes sorry, I'd turned it off at the theatre, and I'd forgotten to turn it back on, we went to watch The Phantom and didn't leave there until well gone ten, then we stopped for a meal at the Ivy, where a very nice gentleman saw us to my car. I have a card somewhere.\" I reached into my bag, and he made a note of the name and number. \"Tell him I was the lady who though he was following her. Is there anything else I can help you with at all? As I said we hadn't seen my mother or brother since before my daughter was born, and I moved to America to live with my father, I wasn't even aware she was ill until yesterday, still they died together there's some comfort in that, he too was troubled with the misuse of drugs and drink?\"\n\n\"That's fine Miss Kullberg, we can contact you on the mobile number her nurse gave us, all we needed to know was when you and the two ladies left your brother alone with your mother, and you have confirmed the secretary's story, the nurse was distraught, but we have yet to interview her officially?\"\n\n\"My name is here on my card. My name is Sara Nascha Bird.\" He smiled and took the card from me. \"Will we have to do anything else? I mean obviously, I need to organise their funerals, but do I need to come and identify the body, or something?\"\n\n\"No, other than could you stay in the country, just until the coroner has finished. The Nurse did the identifications at the scene and on the nightstand, were their suicide letters, with a syringe he used, it had just your brother's prints on. From what we know, they really had planned it all so very well. I am sorry for your loss Miss Bird.\" I shook their hands and saw them out. Relived I think that they weren't in my life any longer.\n\n\"Well come on we need to see to these bloody boxes now Jess, when did you get so good at story telling my girl?\"\n\n\"I told them what they needed to hear, had they asked me did Grandma leave me anything, I would have given him a letter just not the letter, but he didn't so I didn't tell tales. Come on bank and breakfast. Guess this means we are going to have put Italy off for a while, hey Mom?\"\n\n\"Umm, yes I think so, we can I think still go shooting and hunting, the funeral can't be held until all the tests have been done, and I will just ask the funeral director to do the arrangements.\"\n\nWe got to the bank and were talked through security and shown to a room with both the boxes. Moms first and it was filled with her jewels and there were plenty of bonds and shares. It seems mother wasn't as broke as she had Declan believe. In her box the manuscript to the true story of her life and wow with an offer to send it to print, as the newest version of her book. I had to wonder why, perhaps because the dead can't be sued for slander? I would have to read it first.\n\nWe emptied the box, I opened the lid of my box and took out the envelope, in it a letter a letter with a newspaper in it, he said in his letter he had no idea where Ben was buried, and as far as he was aware, they didn't bury people who weren't yet dead? I slumped in the chair and wanted to pass out again, the newspaper was from the day he died, and so I put it in my bag unread, the sick bastard. What did this mean, why was he being so cruel, but now he was doing it from the grave too?\n\n\"Mom, is it bad news? You look like you're going to hurl again Mom, Mom are you alright?\"\n\n\"Umm, I'm fine, I have a bit of a headache, the joke was on me and it seems he was just telling me what I wanted to hear. Come on we need breakfast.\"\n\n\"You're pale Mom, let's just go home, and have a day staying in. I fancy catching some sunshine on Grandy's balcony.\"\n\n\"Sure Baby Bird, whatever you want.\" I needed to read those letters, they were from Ben, if they were from Ben that is, or had Declan wrote them to hurt me more.\n\nWe went home and after we ate breakfast, I made a few phone calls giving the undertaker their details, and I had to register their deaths, when that was done, we could plan the funeral. I phoned the coroner's office, and it would be at least a week until they released the bodies to the undertaker, so I packed and told Jess to pack for the Highlands, we were leaving in an hour. I need some good clean air in my muddled head, air to clear away the mess in there. I watched as Jess loaded the stuff in the car. I then went to the gun cupboard and it was empty. I would need to take a trip to the gun club too. We have a secure box there. Grandy never left a gun in the house, especially if she was away more than a few days.\n\n\"Right gun club, to get the guns and then Scotland here we come. When we get back, we will get the chemicals and paper and develop the films from when we first got here Jess, yes?\" She nodded in agreement. We drove to the club for the guns and the club put in a gun locker in the trunk. I watched as they loaded it all in for me, told too they had been serviced and cleaned regularly, another bill I pay. Shit this having too many places owned, is mind boggling expensive. We did have some nice guns to use though. We set off.\n\n\"Do you need something for the journey? I could do with food and a drink.\"\n\n\"Yeah, sounds like a plan, can we pull over and get supplies Mom?\"\n\n\"Yes, there's a supermarket there, I will stop in here with the guns. Will you be alright in there on your own? Take my card and get plenty of water, I am really thirsty.\"\n\n\"Sure. Mom are you in a stressed 'I need chocolate kinda mood'?\" I laughed she knew me too well.\n\n\"Yes, Jess really stressed, get chips too and sugary stuff, fill your basket with things.\" I watched as she skipped into the store. My phone rang, so I answered it.\n\n\"Hello Sara, can I help you? Hello... Is there somebody there?\" There was someone the other end, but nobody was answering. \"It's your dollar, speak... Fine... Don't talk then, so no speaking? Well then you have a very nice day.\" I put it on to charge and turned off the phone. I am not being stressed out about phone calls too. Jess was making her way back to the car.\n\n\"Mom, they have really different chocolate here, I didn't know what to get, so I got all this, we are going to get zits.\" Getting in she showed me her stash. \"I've got some sandwiches too, are you alright Mom?\"\n\n\"Yes, Baby Bird, it's been a crazy few days, and I think this trip is just what we need, but we're not going to get there if we don't start the journey.\"\n\n\"Argh, Lao-Tzu says a journey of a thousand miles starts with one step. Mom you look worried, we haven't done anything wrong. We didn't know that's what Grandma had planned, and we did as we were told, and didn't open the letters, should we tell the police that she gave them us? What will they do charge a dead woman with murder? You're an attorney?\" I smiled, should I tell her what her uncle said?\n\n\"Uncle Declan left a note in the box, he said he had no idea where your father was, or where he was buried and as far as he was aware, they didn't bury people who weren't yet dead? He is, I saw the newspaper and I have the newspaper it's in the bag.\"\n\n\"Mom he was messing with you, have you researched Dad? I have, and I can't find one who looks like my father, his brothers are on there and his father, the sister died in a traffic crash, but no Ben nor Benjamin Vinci, there are some hot pictures of a Benito Vinci though, a really hot model? I looked for him Mom. Do you not think it was the first thing I did when I found out his name?\" I smiled my clever Little Bird.\n\n\"The hot model was your father Baby girl. That's what I thought, he was messing with my head again. Come on as another ancient philosopher said if you don't put the key in the ignition the car she will not start.\"\n\n\"Who, what, whoa my Dad was really hot, err I pashed at my father. Who said that about cars, did ancients even have cars?\"\n\n\"No, but Grandy did. She was ancient enough for you?\" I started the car and headed north. \"Do you fancy breaking the journey up? By stopping in a nice place halfway there, or drive straight there? It won't take long. It's virtually a long road.\"\n\n\"Mom, the roads here are kinda not that long? Their highways are really a heck of a lot shorter than and not as hectic as those back home. Did you notice that? I suppose we can stop if you want. I wouldn't mind getting there and getting up early and starting the day fresh there?\" I headed up the motorway. Jess passes me some more amazing chocolates. I'd forgotten just how different chocolate tastes here.\n\nWe'd been on the road four hours when Jess fell asleep. All that sugar, it's a small wonder she even can sleep. I had a thought, a crazy thought, what if he was alive? I thought he was last night, the handwritten note, and the letters matched, had he been to the house. Oh my God, I'm having conspiracy theories or was it all just more parlour tricks from Declan perhaps? If he were alive, he would have looked me up. I had to hope so, even if it was just to ask why I left him?\n\nOh my headaches. I could find out... I would find Charlotte, swallow my pride and ask her? I may even get her to introduce Jessica to Ben's family, after all she had perhaps the clout to get Jessica in their home, and once they saw Jess they would know she was his, everyone else could see it. How did my mother know what Ben looked like, they never met, she could have had him checked out I suppose? I'd got a photo of him from the internet. Strange happenings in my past were now messing with my future, Jess's future. We need to sort things out.\n\n\"Grandy, why the hell did you promise your Little Bird a trip to Europe? Oh Grandy this is a tangled web the world has weaved for me to unravel.\" I change the channel and pull into a motorway service station, just as Jess wakes.\n\n\"Are we there yet Mom?\"\n\n\"No, we need warm drinks and food, more fuel too. I didn't fill up that's all.\" I park up and we head in. I grab some magazines and mints. After we drink the worst coffee and we eat the worst food I have had in a long time and I have tasted some crappy food in the past, including roadkill stew. Jess too is not impressed. \"Fuel and then off, we should be there in two hours Little Bird.\" She was looking at the motorway from the connecting bridges and snapping away with her camera. \"Here let me take a picture of you?\" I took it from her and aimed, and as I focused in on her, doing so I noticed that man again, the man from the theatre and the restaurant. Oh hell, this was now really freaky, what did he say he was called again, Cory, Gary? That was it, Cary Underwood. I had his card. I snapped away as she posed doing the stupid poses her and her friends do. \"Come on Jess lets hit the road.\" I needed to lose this man, once was freaky twice not so, three times was so something else, so why was he watching me? What was he driving? I will get his plates and have him checked out, Jess went to the toilets, and I made a call. I used the camera and watched as he got in his car, I snapped at the plates. I then phoned Eli.\n\n\"High handsome, how's work?\"\n\n\"Well hello Boss Lady, why are you ringing to check on us? The place is still standing, but only just.\"\n\n\"I know this is a strange question, but have you a contact that can get me the registered owner of a British car? I think I may be being followed?\"\n\n\"Yes, Boss Lady give me the number.\" I gave it to him, and he clicks away and ums and arghs. \"The car is registered to Vinci Securities, are you alright Sara? Do you need me to do anything else? Sara, do you need anything else?\"\n\n\"Umm, what, sorry? Need something, yes, sorry yes a full background check and whereabouts of Leonardo Benito Vinci, and a Charlotte Ginsberg, please will you send everything you find to my email, and try not to worry, he may be just looking out for Jess, that's her grandfather's company.\" He ummed and said he'd work on it. I flicked the phone off, and as Jess came out, I threw her the teddy bear I bought whilst snapping at the man.\n\n\"Awe thanks Mom so cute, a Scottish teddy wearing golfing stuff. It will go well with the teddy bear collection.\" I smiled. I'd just picked up the first thing I saw.\n\n\"Yes... I thought so it's very cute, now let's get this wagon rolling.\" Jess had done a check on Ben and Benjamin and not Leonardo, the hot model was known as Ben, Benito, and Benny too. I'd never told her his full name, nor did Grandy know it or Dad, they only knew him as Ben. The handwritten letters through the door looked familiar because they were his writing. Shit is he still alive?\n\nChapter 8:\n\nWe arrived just before dinner, and we were shown to our rooms. Jess was very impressed with all the dead animals on the walls. It was massive, I had to tell her she couldn't do her bull in a china shop thing, not here anyway. I was ignored. Our room was shared, so we fought over the bathroom and then the hair drier. I had forgotten just what hard work sharing was. We dressed for dinner, smart casual, I wore one of my pretty dresses Jess had me buy and she looked really grown up too, when did that happen?\n\n\"Mom you look pretty. Your daughter sure has good taste in clothes and those shoes are so perfect.\"\n\n\"Flattery Little Bird will get you everything. Dinner is served come on that's what the gongs for.\"\n\n\"Mom, why do you not date, I wouldn't mind?\" I laughed as I shut the door.\n\n\"I don't and didn't want to Little Bird, after your dad I never met anyone who filled his shoes so to speak. I think once you find that someone, anyone else is just a poor second choice. I am not saying no to dating, but I haven't found that one yet.\" She looked and smiled.\n\n\"I guess that makes sense, sort of. This place is super cool, have you seen the old stuff? The suits of armour are ace and check out the throwing hatchets. Mom, do you think they would let us buy it for Running Bear?\" I laugh.\n\n\"I highly doubt it Little Bird that was used at the Battle of Bannockburn in 1314, the Battle between Robert the Bruce of Scotland, and Edward the Second of England, the great battle for Scotland's freedom from the Sassenachs and is priceless, probably?\"\n\n\"Correct, that's been in the castle since the then Laird of the castle went to battle, returning injured. Dinner is being served in just a while, we are waiting on a late arrival of the current Laird, he is stuck in traffic, and being as this is his shooting party it would be rude not to wait don't you think?\"\n\n\"It sure would, wouldn't it, Mom?\" I smile.\n\n\"It would yes Little Bird.\"\n\n\"What an unusual name?\" I laugh.\n\n\"It's her Grandy's name for her, sorry let me introduce my daughter Jessica Jay Bird. I am Sara Nascha Bird.\"\n\n\"Yes, I looked at the register, you both have a bird as your middle name. That's sweet. Navajo for owl is it not. We have a chap from your region to train the guest on hawking, his daughter is called Nascha too, and a sweet thing she is too. They came and stopped once for a summer, and they moved here, he runs the hawking centre, very popular and worth a visit. He's a nice man as is his family, they are Sioux. I'm a steward and I run the place when his Lordship isn't here, anything you need let me know I'm Hamish Kellock, and anything you need, then I'm your man?\"\n\n\"My father's family always had a bird as their second name, in the older days they just had their Indian names, but in recent history we are better equipped to survive with a more acceptable first name, as too him being Sioux, and our being Apache, is a little like saying you Scottish, are the same as the Irish, or Welsh, there are similarities, in the Gaelic languages, but regions apart.\" He smiled and nodded his head.\n\n\"This is a really nice castle you have Sir.\"\n\n\"Thank you, but it's not mine, it is the gentleman we're waiting for! He brings clients down and shoots, and occasionally his family come to stay. Argh, if you would just excuse me our Laird has arrived, oh and on his own, now there's a surprise? I will speak to you again.\" I join Jess as she is looking through the display cases. I go to get a drink and she joins me.\n\n\"Mom, this is kinda cool, are you alright you look ill?\"\n\n\"I'm fine, when you said you looked up your dad Jess, you didn't look up his proper name, he's called...\"\n\n\"... I'm called Leonardo, hello Sara, long time no see?\" Thank fuck but shit he's not dead!\n\n\"Mom, Mom, oh Mom, please wake up... Oh, heck Mom, this is weird, please wake up.\" I came around, to Jess sat by my side rubbing my hands and face. That was a hell of an illusion, Declan is messing with me from the grave and my mind is all over the place, I could have sworn I heard Ben?\n\n\"Jess that was a hell of a dream I had. I need some water, please, what happened?\"\n\n\"I think my dead father turning up could have been a bit of a shock for you. He's getting you some ice for your head as you cracked it hard when you passed out. Mom, he's here and not dead, would you care to explain?\" I am helped to my feet and led to a quiet room, Jess joins me, and the others are told to go and eat by the now not dead Ben.\n\n\"All that was real, and he's here? I thought he was dead... Shit Ben is really here. I must be sick, this isn't happening, Declan's behind this, he's an actor, who just looks like Ben? The real one is dead. Shit sorry Jess, are you alright? Has he said anything, why is he doing this?\"\n\n\"No, well apart from oh crap, then he rushed to get you water and some ice for your head and he is coming back shush...\"\n\n\"Sorry, Sara but I saw your name in the register, Hamish said you were in there with your daughter, what the hell are you doing here? If you'd have answered the letters or phoned the numbers, we could have done this at home. How's the head? Hello Jessica, I believe you know who I am?\" She looked at him her mouth open and tears coming down her face.\n\n\"You're my dead Father, only you're here not dead, how? I mean how did that happen? Hell Mom, I feel an f-bomb coming on. He was right, Declan was right, a living man can't have a grave.\" She and I both sat looking at the man before us. I put my hand to his face, and he was warm, he looked like Ben and I looked at him again. I needed to be sick.\n\n\"Please, please just wait here both of you, just for two minutes. Please I need to get something, stop here.\" I left them and ran to my room, I looked through my bag and grabbed the newspaper and the well-worn old newspaper cutting, which I always had in my diary and went back downstairs. He was there and just as handsome, but even better now, because he was alive.\n\n\"Jessica Jay Bird, you will not swear, that's my next thing to do, young lady. Well, Ben it seems we need to talk, and we have a lot of things to talk about.\"\n\n\"I have arranged for us to have dinner in the small dining room, we need to talk you're right. Until I saw Jessica in the gym that day, I had thought you were dead... You were killed in a boating accident in Arizona. I even visited a grave near your place there. Your Dad wasn't there he was away shooting. Do you know how awful that was?\"\n\n\"Try being locked away for months, whilst your brother sells your unborn child, then whilst I'm kept prisoner, he shows me a newspaper saying you had been killed, driving off the road with your pregnant fiancée in the car, try that one on for size?\" I passed him the newspapers. Which he took from me and looked them both over.\n\n\"Mom err this is weird, Dad, both of you please stop it, stop shouting at each other please... I need to get my head around this, talk and sort it all out, please, it seems Dickhead Declan has been very busy. I need to think, because you're not dead?\" She ran off and Ben was going after her.\n\n\"No leave her Ben, she will come back, she needs time to adjust, she walks away thinks about thinks and comes back with her head cleared, and deals with it, like her father, I mean like you.\"\n\n\"She does what I do too? Sorry, I wasn't sure how this was going to go, I tried to phone you, but hearing your voice. It meant so much to me. Mainly that you weren't dead, you were there, and I couldn't speak. For sixteen long years, I have missed you, and I have grieved over you and I have tried miserably to get over you. You're here and alive, I wasn't sure how all this would turn out. That day I went to the gym and as I used the rowing machine, the girl opposite was singing as she worked out, she smiled as she saw me looking and asked if I was alright?\n\nI was a little hung over, I'd had you on my mind for a couple of days, because I thought I saw you in the Savoy of all places? Then she spoke in her deep American accent, and as I looked, she reminded me of someone and as I looked at her more, I saw my sister. Then I saw the necklace as she used the step machine, it danced with each step, and I knew who she was. I was so damn confused... How could you have had my child and been dead at the same time? I had you investigated that day, because I had no idea you were still alive?\" I'm just staring at him, he's here and I feel sick.\n\n\"You're alive, Ben, alive oh hell... My brother... He showed me that newspaper and it said you were dead, and I was heartbroken. He'd locked me away from the night I got to Mothers and for nearly five months too. I waited for you to come and rescue me from the tower, it was awful, it nearly drove me mad, the grief the loneliness, the baby and everything was such an effort. I hadn't told you about you baby, that's why I was so crabby days before you went back to Italy. I didn't know how you would take it, or if you would think I'd done it on purpose? I didn't, I was shocked I was on the pill and having a baby then was way ahead of my plans, but do you remember that bad bout of flu we both had, and I was sick? I must have thrown up the pills.\n\nBen, you left thinking I was being off with you, but I was just worried about telling you. Then I found you had died, weeks later and I felt like dying too, but I had to get out and save her, he was selling her to pay his drug dealer. You had moved on with Charlotte whilst I was locked away pining for you. I was so angry and confused, because you didn't wait very long, and had impregnated Charlie too. I escaped and ran to Dad in Arizona and never came back. You were dead, and I had no reason to doubt it, so I got on with living and having our daughter.\n\nI tried to tell your parents, before I had her and after I'd had her. I sent pictures and they just had to look at her because she looks so like you, but they were I thought, busy comforting Charlotte and by then she would have had your baby, they didn't need my child. They had you back with her child. I was angry that should have been me, they didn't believe me when I told them she was yours. So after a while I stopped trying, they didn't want your daughter when they had her child.\" I sobbed, oh my days he is here, and he is alive.\n\n\"If he weren't already dead, I would have him killed... This one is the correct version of the story, but this one is a good copy with the fake story, same paper, same date, with the same photo of the crashed car in both copies, but two very different stories.\" I took it from Ben it was then I read the newer of the two copies. \"I was in a car accident and with Charlotte yes, we were on our way back from Scotland. I wanted to find you I was shocked and surprised you hadn't come back, and I wondered what was going on? Grandy left a note, 'gone a travelling, see you when the wind turns' She wasn't specific on the time she would be back, and she didn't say where she was off to. So, I grabbed an equally angry Charlie, and we headed to the castle up there. Declan was very convincing. He said you'd had a re-think about us, it was all too much too intense. You'd decided on ending it with me because I was ashamed of you being a half breed. You didn't call yourself that, so I knew something was off. I should have realised, but I hadn't taken you to see my parents, you were right, but not because I was ashamed of you. I didn't want you to think I was like them.\n\nHe asked had I not had your letter or the postcards? You, he said had dumped me by post card, that's what pissed me off and made me come and look for you nothing seemed right, nothing was how you were with me? He was so snug. I wasn't admitting that to him that I had got the letters and was heartbroken. He talked on and on about how you were travelling with Grandy and putting me out of your mind. I was in a mess, some of the things he said rang true others didn't sit right, and then he said you were going to your dad's place. You'd been gone about three months and no spoken words were had. I just got bloody postcards, as if I meant nothing to you. I had gone looking for you, because I wanted bloody answers, not bits of cards saying, wish you were here?\n\nYes, Charlie she was pregnant, but not with my child? She had her boyfriend's baby, Carrington, the model she was seeing from Australia. She lives there now with their son, not mine. The newspaper ran a story about two models getting into a fender bender with a deer, and her being pregnant, but it wasn't a major news story just a thing in the local rag near the castle. Seeing your version of the paper you must have been devastated Sara. I would have loved to hear that news, being a dad, her dad.\" His tears fell. Then he got even weepier. He took a large intake of breath, and blew out the emotions, suppressing the sobs that were there.\n\n\"Two weeks after the, castle visit... I get a phone call from Declan, with the news you'd been killed, whilst white water rafting in Arizona? I flew out to see your grave and an elderly woman stood by it and tried to tell me who was lying in the earth, her English wasn't very good. As I stood there and listened, she said you were a beautiful young girl, you had the soul of a free bird now, a young and beautiful girl, whom the water had taken back, she showed me a plaque, and it clearly said Bird. I laid the flowers cried a lot and flew home the same day. I was desolate for months, you'd left me, and I didn't know why, then you died? I missed you and was damn angry with you, damn angry. I need to do something...\" He leaned over and kissed me, and yes, of course I kissed him back.\n\n\"Wow, fifteen years between kisses, is a little too long Sara, I missed those kisses. I need to ask about and see who refused to tell me about my daughter. I will have someone's head for this, had I known I would have come running back to Arizona and seen my baby girl and her mother. I loved you so much, so very much, when you died a part of me died, you took my heart with you Little Bird, God I have missed you.\"\n\n\"Ben, have you been watching me? There's a man watching me, if you are, why?\"\n\n\"Yes, but not me personally, two teams of my men, why? I've been getting background, information on you two. I tried to knock at Grandy's, but I just sat for an hour waiting for you to come back. I even thought of using my keys, but I haven't been back in since I saw the grave, it was too much sitting in an empty room, you were everywhere, Grandy was away again. I flew to Italy and was based there for a while, the mews flat was and is too near to where we were once so happy, we were happy weren't we?\" I nodded and smiled because he was here and not dead.\n\n\"I left a note and wondered if I should sign it? I decided you'd dumped me once, and that was enough. I just wanted answers, why had you kept her from me. My beautiful Daughter and I was angry again. I went home fully intending to come and see you the following morning, and then all the shit hit the fan about your family's suicide. I figured you'd still be there when I got back, and you didn't need me to add to your worries, and as clinical as this sounds, I had to keep this appointment its worth a lot of money, many people's livelihoods are at stake too, there's so much riding on it.\" Jess came walking back.\n\n\"So, what happens now, do you want to get to know me, or are you with your other child? Will I be an embarrassment for you?\"\n\n\"Jessica, you are the only child I have and no you could never embarrass me. I really want to get to know you, fifteen years is a lot of catching up to do.\"\n\n\"So... What do I call you? Do you want me to call you Ben, Leo or Dad?\"\n\n\"I would be upset if you called me anything but Dad, after all I am your father and proud to be your father too. Now, we are being called to dinner, join me ladies we still have many questions. You do don't you Jessica?\" She had a look of mischief about her. Oh, he's going to pay for that.\n\n\"Umm, I have loads, like what happens now? Do you marry my mom? Do I get to have your name? Do you know I'm sixteen soon, and it's customary for the dad to buy the spoilt only daughter a massive car and throw her a massive sweet sixteenth party? Then finally, where's my allowance you own me quite a bit? What do you think Mom?\" He laughed loudly.\n\n\"Well Jess, you get that attitude from your Grandy, straight for the obvious. Do you remember when I moved into the house with you at Richmond? When you showed me to my room, she laughed and asked, why were we not sharing, did her Granddaughter have smelly breath in the morning?\" We both laughed, as Jess blushed, he held my hand as Jess smiled.\n\n\"Jess what you have just been given is priceless, Little Bird don't be greedy.\"\n\n\"Why did you ask if I was following you Baby, are you being followed?\"\n\n\"Yes, a man who works for Vinci Securities, he has been in quite a few places I have been, the theatre, the Ivy, and the service station on the way up here. I took a photo and registration number, and it traces back to one of your companies.\"\n\n\"The securities branch is Paulo's division that and the casinos. I deal with the corporate takeovers and acquisitions. Eat, please your safe here. I will deal with everything when we have eaten, eat please. I still can't believe you're here. Is Jessica named after Grandy then? Stupid question, of course she is, what else would you call her. I was sorry to hear of her passing, the newspaper I read said she died visiting family in Arizona. I presumed she was there with your dad, how is he? Grandy's home, I have put several bids in for the house as I wanted to buy it, but the owners haven't got back to me.\" I sighed.\n\n\"Dad died five years ago, but Grandy was never away from the place, she loved our Little Bird too much to stop away. As to the house, I don't know its Jess's too, we haven't decided really what we want to do with it and all the others.\"\n\n\"Gheeze Dad, you're all outta luck, we aren't selling, Mom gave me the choice, so I decided to keep it. I do have a bag full of your clothes you left in Mom's room. Do you want them back? Sorry, bagged the big baggy tee shirt you left.\" He laughed.\n\n\"I walked into that room for the first time in fifteen years and it was like a time capsule, everything was where I'd left it, everything Ben. It was like you were coming back and would use your key and come running up the stairs from work and everything would carry on, then our daughter took over, she does that, she is a little bossy.\" He laughed, and Jess carried on looking at him.\n\n\"I do look like you too, they weren't wrong. Mom looks at me like she is looking at you now... I have more questions. Love life have you one, where do you live and why didn't you ask me anymore questions at the gym, what happens now? I wasn't joking about the name either.\" He held my hand tightly as he answered his daughter's questions.\n\n\"I am single, yes I have had girlfriends and dates. I have houses all over the place, this castle and a mews house in London, just around the corner from you. You were taking photos of it a few days ago, you were outside of it, God it was you then? I watched you and wondered what you were doing, but I didn't get a good look you because you had a camera in your face. Oh, hell where was I? Yes... One in New York, the family estate in Italy, a place on the Seine, oh and a hunting lodge in Canada, not used since I bought this place. You will with your mother's permission be registered as my daughter, because you are, and do want to add my name to yours, as to marrying your mother, in a heartbeat. I've had her ring for nearly sixteen years.\n\nI picked it up from Mom the week I went to Italy, it was my grandmothers, because I was going to ask you to marry me when I got back, there was it seems, a slight delay? You can have a car once you have passed your test, but you will not be spoilt, that Sara may be hard for me not to do. I have a lot of catching up to do, and lord help her when Mom sees her Dad too, because she looks just like Donatella.\n\nMy Mom is going to kill you Jessica, with kisses, she is always saying I'm getting too old to give her grandchildren, she's going to hug you to death. You will both come with me, won't you, to see them? I need to check into everything. Something's not right with all this, and that's without your fucking brother, oh Sorry I dropped the f-bomb, excuse me please Jess? The photographs you sent, the letters, the person who is watching you, who did you speak too, did you get any names Baby?\"\n\n\"No, they spoke in Italian, I wasn't sure who or what they were saying, they just said in broken English, send all requests in writing to Marco, a Marco De Rege? He sent a curt letter back saying the family does not recognise me or my child as an heir, and no appointment would be granted. Then the same letter every time I rang him.\"\n\n\"Argh, he died about fourteen years ago, he and my sister were killed in a tragic accident on their holiday in Jamaica. Their car had a fault, and they plunged to their deaths. So, I can't ask him. When did you stop asking to see my mother and father?\"\n\n\"When Jess reached her fourth birthday, but the photographs I still sent every year, but with the fourth lot of photographs I sent a last letter with them. I told your parents I wouldn't be contacting them again, we wanted nothing, needed nothing and I will send a picture every birthday, so they would know what they were missing, and I have done.\"\n\n\"His office came under the securities arm of the company. I will deal with it all. Sara, you really are here aren't you, both of you? Right, I want to know things about you two too. Jessica, Jess what do you like being called? What do you want to do in collage, what do you think of all this really? Sara are you seeing someone, what do you want, do you want anything or need anything?\" I laugh as Jess has that look again.\n\n\"Umm no Dad, Mom hasn't as much as looked at anyone else, never has, not even a date for the works functions, normally I go with her! Apparently, no one will ever be as good as you?\" Oh, hell she didn't just go there. \"I want to be an attorney, just like my mom. Do you know she is great at her job, and she is up for being a Judge? I love my home at White River, I love my heritage and it means a lot to me to keep it alive. I guess I have to learn about my Italian heritage too, more books to hit. Mom calls me Little Bird more now that The Duchess has gone, before that she called me Little Jay, I love all my names.\n\nI don't need anything, I get everything I need, we're not poor far from it. I am what was it the Duchess said Mom? That's right an independently wealthy young lady. I was joking about the car I have more than enough money to buy one, Mom told me I'm mega rich when I'm twenty-one. I can't wait to see your home in Italy, you will love the ranch, and do you ride Dad? We raise Mustangs, well they are mainly wild, but my horse, Socks is a bay gelding fifteen hands and beautiful, he is all mine. I trained him with Shiitsooyee, sorry Grandpa? Oh, and I'm still in high school, college next year.\"\n\n\"Jess, breathe. She's right we have more than enough money, I did tell your parents that, you knew that too. I love my practice in Tucson and I have a small office on the reservation, Jess wants to run that and she's always in there helping. We keep busy and I lecture at the university and I own my own firm, the ranch, the Richmond house, the castle here in Scotland, which is currently being sold, we don't need anything Ben, as Jess said. Ben I'm not sure we could pick up from where we left it, even if we both felt like that and we still cared about each other, we have different lives now, and I can't see you living on the reservation with Jess and me? Jess will never leave there.\" The steward Hamish, from earlier knocked and entered the room.\n\n\"Sorry Sir, the staff would like to know if you need anything, it's getting late?\"\n\n\"No, Hamish, please send them to their beds, my family and I will be going to bed soon too. Can you see to it that that they are moved to the family wing, please? In the morning whilst we are out shooting will be fine thank you Hamish. We will head up there now. Goodnight, and thank you.\"\n\n\"Good evening Sir, Madam, and Miss Jessica, cook will do you pancakes, and will get you in some maple syrup, goodnight sleep well. We will move their things tomorrow, Sir.\" He shut the doors and as Jess yawned, Ben showed us to our rooms.\n\n\"Sleep tight, both of you, I would invite you to my wing, but it's late and we are up in the morning early, see you both at breakfast?\" He leant in and gave Jess a hug, kissing her head and sighing, he seemed to hold on to her forever, she equally didn't want to let him go.\n\n\"Goodnight Ben, I'm sorry for all this, will we see you at breakfast? You have guests you have ignored all night. I wouldn't want you to lose out on your business deals.\" He watched as Jess went through the door. He then kissed me again holding me close, his hands wrapped tightly around me. I kissed him back too, after all if I bloody wake up in the morning and this is all a dream, I at least want to have had a kiss.\n\n\"More Baby, I need more I need all of you, you're mine. There's nobody here that is as important to me as you and our daughter are to me.\"\n\n\"Ben, please we can't do this, it's too hard. Our worlds are now so very different, we live in different places, you live in a world that's alien to me and not forgetting you have other people in your life. I would love the more, like you wouldn't believe, but I don't know Ben, I really don't know if this will work, so much has happened to change us?\"\n\n\"I will wait, and you will be in my bed again, you should never have left it! I never stopped loving you ever, now I will grab a kiss and see you in the morning, for breakfast. I need some quality time with my family.\" He kissed me again, and as he did, he smiled. \"You so do want me, night Sara. I'll see you in the morning sleep well, if you can? If you don't, my rooms are down the corridor, down the steps and through the double doors, my rooms the one at the end...\" I laughed and went to bed. That sounds like a plan, but I'm not going there, not yet, but lord I want to. Oh God do I want too. I spent a very restless night, tossing and turning, I am not at all tempted to get my old backside in his bed, well not much.\n\nChapter 9:\n\nI woke to find Jess was already out, her note was brief, 'gone for breakfast with Dad, now that I can... It is awesome.' I laugh, because it must seem so to her, to me it's bringing me a barrel full of problems. I fired up the laptop the report was there from Eli and I opened it. I read down the pages and all the things about Charlie were true. His though is a different story, he was now head of the firm answering to no one. He owns the company, and he stays the majority of the time in Italy.\n\nThere are hundreds of girls not a few. The rumours are rife in the articles I read, that he is about to get engaged to a model, Flavia De Portia, she too is Italian, good looking and twenty-three. So he likes them a lot younger than him, does he? I don't know why that should surprise me, he's single, good looking and loaded. What does surprise me is how angry I feel, I'm so jealous, that's what shocks me the most. I read too that there is hostility within the family, his brother has tried to take over the company twice and failed both times, resulting in Ben taking it over completely. He now has no board to answer to.\n\nHe is according to the articles I skim through is a ruthless businessman and some people call him heartless, Ben was never heartless, quite the opposite, what's going on there? Paulo is hard working, still with Ben's firm and unlike Ben, he doesn't seem to have a life other than his work? It's sad that the brothers seem to be fighting over a company that brings them each, more than enough money to enjoy, and yet enough to keep a small country supplied and running. Why the need for them to have more than they can ever spend?\n\nI also read that there was a suspicion of foul play over his sister's death and that of her husband. He was rumoured to have connections to some bad people, their death was thought to be to silence him, and there was suspicion too that the brake cables were cut, but there was very little left of them or their car. Hell, oh my oh my more drama I don't need. No wonder he's jumpy about our safety. Jess did look more like his sister, strangely even more like her, than she does her father, it's quite alarming. I fire off my thanks and tell him all is fine, that we are reunited with him and he has met his daughter. I wash and change and dress for the days shooting, lord I need a kiss, is that so wrong of me? I need to ask him about Flavia too, I don't want to step on anyone's toes or come between them. I head down to have breakfast with the two people I love most in the world.\n\n\"Morning you two, why were you up so early Jess. Good morning Ben.\" I leant in and kissed their cheeks.\n\n\"Morning Mom, you didn't sleep so well? Are you not feeling too well? Dad has been filling me on the things I need to know about the family.\"\n\n\"Did you not sleep well? I slept very well knowing you were here and safe under my roof. You should have woken me, I could have stopped up with you talked, perhaps reminisced, you know whatever it took to get your mind back in the game?\" I grab a plate and eat from the buffet breakfast and I look back at them, and they look adorable sat together. I pinch my arm, ouch, yep this is still not a dream. I opt for a plate full of kedgeree and toast, when I get back, he pulls out my chair and kisses my neck.\n\n\"Thank you, do you bring Flavia up her very often?\" I don't look up now that I have asked the question, I'm afraid now I've asked it, to hear the truth.\n\n\"Yes, she came a lot whilst we were dating, as did a few of the other women in my life. You have been looking into me too?\"\n\n\"Why would that surprise you? I needed to know what our daughter is getting into, as I said, the lives we lead are so very different, mine is Jess and my practice, yours is models and money, getting more of it and the models seem to be young pretty things?\"\n\n\"Had we been allowed to continue Baby it would have been your life too. I was single Sara, lonely and single. I have had a lot of friends in my life, some, well if I'm honest, most are just that, friends. Some wanted more than I could and would give, some were in it just for what they can get. Flavia was one of them. There has been no one who ever meant as much as you did, though Flavia's people set about a crazy story we were closer than we were. I can promise you rumours of my impending nuptials to her are wildly exaggerated.\" I look at Jess as she eats, she is plugged in and has missed the whole Flavia talk, I nudge her to take catch her attention and to take them out.\n\n\"Gheeze Mom, what do you want? When are we are going, I need to put my warm stuff on and my shoes, though I had fun sliding up and down the ballroom floor Mom, will you do it with me later? Go on you know you want to?\"\n\n\"Umm, shiny floor and fluffy socks, count me in Little Bird that sounds like fun. We could ask your Dad to you make the big staircase into a cardboard slide too?\" He looks shocked.\n\n\"Mom does a mighty fine dance routine like Tom Cruise to the dance from Risky Business, she's kinda hot too. The cardboard slide is something she did for sleepovers, my friends love coming to stop with us, I have one fantastic Mom, have you seen her ride?\" She made him blush, as I look up, he winks.\n\n\"I haven't seen her ride, but I bet she looks hot too. You have to show me the dance Sara. As to the staircase, we can go one better we had an American family hire it, the castle, for the summer. It was wet a lot, so the girls got a little fed up, and they had some sort of plastic slide pieces made to fit it, they're in the cellar. Apparently, it was pretty damn dangerous. Hamish went a hundred miles an hour down it, it's on You-Tube. I think it's called 'Crazy Scots Screaming Guy on a Slide'. It is quite popular apparently? He would relish the chance to get it out again, wouldn't you Hamish? The big slide thing Miss Trudy had you ride?\"\n\n\"Yes Sir, but if you remember, I had that written into my contract never again to slide down the staircase, but if Miss Jessica wants it putting in, we can see. They are telling me you need to be ready at the door in ten minutes Sir. Your guns Miss Bird are already in Sir's Range Rover. Sir yours have been cleaned and are ready, the beaters are already and hopefully you will have a good day. Strathmore is positive your guests will not be disappointed, does Miss Jessica wish to stop here?\"\n\n\"No thanks Hamish, I have my guns ready too, I feel the need to shoot.\"\n\n\"As you wish Miss Jessica, Sir, Madam...\" He went to organise or do whatever the steward does. He's more like a butler in a kilt.\n\n\"You shoot Baby, and you too Jess?\"\n\n\"I was raised with the knowledge that if we don't shoot, we don't eat. I have been hunting since I was really young. It's all a big part of who we are as a people and we are known as hunter gatherers and warriors. Mom shot a mountain lion, it nearly had me for lunch, it scared the crap out of me, and then bam, one shot and it was dead as a Dodo.\" He looks horrified.\n\n\"She was never in danger, she means too much to me for anything to happen to her, besides we weren't alone there were at least three others with it in their sights. I was just the one who happened to get it, she is never in any danger she is well loved our Daughter, her Grandfather was so proud of her, his little renegade mark two.\"\n\n\"So, I should have money on you bagging a few birds then? I still can't believe you're here. When Clive said he'd filled the two spots to a couple of women, never did I expect it to be you two? Apparently, the others dropped out minutes before you asked him about it. It was you that day, at the Savoy, I was there sorting it out with them? Sara, this is meant to be.\" I smile.\n\n\"I thought I saw you too, but I put it down to a lookalike, after all the dead don't walk the streets. Oh Jess, Dad can watch your films with you.\" I laugh, the full box set too he owes me. \"The grave you visited was of a young girl of fourteen, she was the one who died. She was called Tallulah Bird. She was a very distant cousin and died whilst I was locked in the tower. He planned his revenge well Ben, frighteningly so. Did you get the car checked after your accident? I know I'm paranoid, but did you?\" He studied me.\n\n\"I did yes, and it was my fault. I span in the rain, to avoid a deer. We, Charlie and I were arguing about where to go next, and she was convinced what Declan had told me was a lie. It turns out she was right. Did you read the report on Marco's and Donatella's death then? It was looked into, and we are more careful now. I am going to be more so now with you two to look after, you will have to have a minder too, that's not a request either. I need you both to be safe.\"\n\n\"Dad, we are being called to go.\"\n\n\"Right jump in ladies, we have dinner to kill. The cook here is great, and nothing is wasted, it feeds the staff and is distributed to the villagers, and the dogs get fed well too.\" We drive for about half an hour, and as I look across at him, he smiles. \"I am still here and I'm still alive Sara, stop smiling. Jess are you going to be warm enough? There's a scarf in the back there, sorry it's one of mine.\"\n\n\"Gheeze, I'm fine, you're going to have to stop fussing, and I'm sorry to break it to you Daddy. I'm all grown up.\" He sighs. I see the hurt in his eyes. It's not as if I did it on purpose. I put my hand on his leg and give it a squeeze. He looks at it and places his hand on it.\n\n\"Jess I'm sorry, it will take me a while to get used to this dad thing. Have you had any thought as to when you want to go to Italy, the jets ready as soon as we need it? Mom wanted to be on the next flight over, in fact, when we get back to London, I expect them to be there. I am giving you the heads up, she will cry an awful lot, and her English is not too good either.\" I smile as Jess speaks in fluent Italian.\n\n\"Dad, it's fine, Mom had me learn. She speaks it too, she had to because apparently, the arses she spoke to, all of them said they didn't understand her, so she learned Italian, just so she could understand what they were saying. I have a very clever Mom, haven't I?\"\n\n\"You have learnt Italian? You always said you would learn it. Your Mom was convinced when I spoke to her in Italian, I was actually telling her off, so she said she would take lessons. You had Jess learn too?\" It seems I did well.\n\n\"She represented an old man who needed some legal work done and he couldn't afford to pay, so she bartered Italian lessons for winning his case. He was a sweet old man.\" Pulling into the woods, we got out of the car and joined the rest of the party to go through safety talks.\n\n\"Are you alright Jess?\" She was looking at her gun and checking it over, grabbing the cartridge holder, she then filled her pockets and smiled.\n\n\"Fine, these are pretty guns Mom, have you seen the engraving on them, they are all little birds.\"\n\n\"They are Purdey's and a matched pair too, someone has great taste in guns? Are you going to be alright Jessica?\"\n\n\"Yes, Dad fine.\" I smiled this is going to be murder he is going to panic, his little girl can shoot and well too, he will be fine. I hope. I would hate for him to have a heart attack so soon.\n\n\"Stop worrying yourself, are you taking flank, or would you like me to? Can this lot shoot and walk or are we standing, or butt stick?\"\n\n\"Standing, or in most cases sitting on a shooting stick dear, butt is frowned upon.\" I umm, best he doesn't panic too much, he would panic more with Jess walking within their shot, so I made her stand. The line is established and as the beaters did their thing, the line suddenly started firing. I watched as he fired his gun and I smiled as I looked over at Jess, God this is a dream, they are both here... They are here and I am happy too.\n\n\"Right Little Bird lets show these English folks, how we do it in Arizona.\" I took aim watched the birds flight, I focused and putting my cheek to the stock fired and hit the birds, the dog ran as I fired again and again, the second fell and then the third and the fourth, I re-load, and as they fly I focus, fire and watch them fall, the dogs are kept busy. Jess is smiling as Ben stops and watches as she takes her shots, she fires and he watches as her birds fall and as she hits them, she laughs. Loading again and as she aims at next bird, the next shooter, the stupid bastard at the side of her, turns to shoot in her direction, she ducks as he narrowly misses her.\n\n\"Are you fucking serious man? Don't ever do that again, gun forward never to the side, never do that again, watch the bird, focus on it alone, see it and shoot to the front. Not the side, if it flies to the side, choose another and leave it. Never do what you have done again, are you alright? I'm fine, please don't panic.\" I watch as she shows him what to do. The whistles stop the shoot, after what seems an age as the dogs are in need of water, and we need a drink.\n\n\"You weren't joking you do know what to do Sara, Jess too, so I guess her now very grey haired Dad has nothing to panic about? Gerry, you nearly killed my daughter. Watch it, she's irreplaceable to me.\"\n\n\"I wondered if she was a relation, Leo, she's so like you. Sorry little lady, first time shooting the real thing. Clays don't move like these little buggers. Who taught you to shoot?\"\n\n\"My Mom, she's good and I'm sorry I swore at you.\" I had bagged myself a fair few birds. Jess was now busy helping the beaters with the dogs, she fed hers her pie. I laughed as she played with them, they are her Achilles Heel dogs, and she loves them.\n\n\"She is great Sara, really great. I was about to take Gerry's head off his shoulders.\"\n\n\"It's a good job we weren't walking and shooting. You would have turned even greyer.\" We had an enjoyable day, but things were still a little weird between Ben and I, with Jess it was easier. They just went with the flow, chatted, laughed, fooled around, he'd pick her up spin her around, he was enjoying doing Dad stuff I suppose? I was feeling even more confused, pent up lust was an understatement, it had been sixteen years since I'd last had sex and God my body was waking up from a bloody long hibernation, into what I can only describe as bordering on a case of bad nymphomania? If he offers it, I am taking it and giving him more, I need him and soon.\n\nArriving back at the castle Hamish told us our things were in our rooms, Jess went in search of her stuff, as she did she was like the usual bull in the same china shop, doors are flung open until she found hers. She was having a bath and excused herself, saying she was due some catch up time with her friends at home, and desperately wanted to show them her hot dad, blushes from Ben as she told him this. She shut her door telling us she'd see us at dinner.\n\n\"We have been dismissed by our daughter. So, do you fancy seeing your room? This way Sara, I think you will like it.\" I saw that look, he's had my stuff put in his room, and he led me by the hand to his rooms.\n\n\"You presume this is what I want Ben, just to jump back in? No asking, just doing it?\" He stopped me talking by kissing me, oh hell, don't stop please don't stop, and as the clothes came off, we continued to kiss.\n\n\"Tell me no and I stop Sara.\"\n\n\"Hell, if you do that, I will kill you.\" He picked my now naked body up and carried me to his bedroom, I didn't care what it looked like, I needed him, badly. He placed me in his bed, and as he leant down to kiss me, I pulled him towards me. I noticed he was a hell of a lot better built in the body department, much improved and even sexier without the clothes spoiling the view.\n\nHis kisses I devoured, as he touched my body with his. I sighed as his kisses moved down my body, he kissed my heaving breasts, as my heart began beating faster and as he moved down my body, he got to the scar and kissed it continuing downwards making me writhe under him. He then got to that place, and as he did, I cried out in sheer pleasure, oh hell was it always so good, yes of course it was... As he worked my body into a quivering wreck, he started to lap at my sex, as if he'd never been there before. I threw my hands over my face as I came and hard. I was a shaking wreck as I screamed his name over and over.\n\n\"Oh hell I missed this Sara, I'd forgotten how passionate you get, please can we?\"\n\n\"If you don't, I will kill you. Now, now please, now?\" He moved up my body and as he entered me. I cried, he was there, he was here with me, oh hell there were no words to describe the need I had. We were as one as he moved within me, I succumbed to him again and again, his body riding me like a wave, his firm dick giving me the pleasure my body had long since forgotten. His control was impressive as he spent down kisses to my lips. We rolled around on his bed grappling to control the game, he was beneath me as I rode him, and hard, circling on top of him, my hips moving in time with his as he began thrusting upwards.\n\n\"I'm coming oh hell Sara move it, please God move it now, harder, faster Baby now, now, now...\" I climaxed just as he screamed out my name, as he clung on for dear life. Crying real tears, he was sobbing and kissing me. He held me tightly and as I lay at his side, he covered us in the comforter. Wrapping me in his arms, for the after-sex-cuddle I'd always liked. He scooped me into those arms and held me tightly. \"That was more than overdue Sara, oh hell I missed you. I want you in my bed every night and forever. I know you said no, but please think about it. We complete each other and don't tell me you don't think that too?\" I snuggled into his chest and kissed it.\n\n\"I love you Ben, I never stopped, I can't stop loving you, and I never did stop. Now shush I'm not as young as I was.\"\n\n\"You could have fooled me, you were the same as you always were, oh so nice to be inside of, warm and God so good. You want to marry me don't kid yourself.\"\n\n\"Guilty as charged, I always did.\" I fell asleep in his arms as he kissed my head. I woke to the sound of running water, I grabbed the sheet around me and as I did there was a ring on my finger? When did I agree to this? I know he hypnotised me with his sexual prowess, but this I can't remember agreeing to. I went to find the reason for the ring being on my finger. It was the prettiest and yet most unusual ring I'd ever seen. Two square diamonds, separated by a row of square sapphires, they continued down the sides, the sides were a filigree of four diamonds on each side, with tiny diamonds seeming to hold the bigger ones in their place.\n\n\"When did we get engaged?\"\n\n\"As soon as I had you back in our bed. I asked, and you said yes. Our Daughter is instant on it too, I don't think she was too surprised to see you asleep in my bed? In fact, she saw the ring before you. I asked her this morning, if I could ask you. She, by the way, said yes, as did Grandy before I went to Italy the last time. She said it was about time, we'd lived sinfully long enough.\" I ummed and got in the bath.\n\n\"So, we discussed that for a long time? Where do we live, my businesses, the houses, your parents, America, Italy, England, there are plenty of questions and my headaches with them.\"\n\n\"We will sort it all out, I can retire, and I think sixteen years' worth of missing you is enough to give everything up for Sara. I love you, and I never stopped.\" I watch him as he shower's and I lower myself into the inviting bubbles.\n\n\"I accept, but what happened to the down on one knee thing?\" He laughed.\n\n\"You had me weak at the knees four hours ago, now if you want the whole romantic gestures? Leave it to me, but for now will you marry me Sara?\"\n\n\"I already said yes, besides would hate to let your daughter down, she sulks far worse than you do Ben.\" He came out of the shower dripping sex from every pore. Oh my. \"Ben, we need to talk, and I mean talk, this is bigger than just you me, we have Jess to think about, she's complicated and head strong.\"\n\n\"No, it's not, you me and Jess are all I care about, everything else is just background noise you two are the verses, and I'm the chorus and together we make a damn fine song.\" I smile. We do sing a harmonious song alright. Especially when having S.E.X!\n\nChapter 10:\n\nWe went down to dinner as the gong sounded, Jess was already down and was apparently in the kitchen, and as Ben walked with me to find her, he brought me into his arms and kissed me again.\n\n\"We are alright, aren't we? Is this, is this what you want, to have me back in your life? Don't just do it for Jessica, I will be there for her whatever you decide.\" Ben looked so happy, but there was worry there too.\n\n\"Yes, I do want to be with you, and I always have done. I have from the first time we made love, to screaming for you in the tower, to the moment I had Jess. You were all I had ever thought of, but as soon as I had her, my priorities changed. She became the focus of all my attention, she had to be. Now I get to share her with you and share the love I have between you both. I have never stopped loving you Ben ever, we just have so much going on in our lives for us to just start playing happy families, it is going to be very hard to do, you do understand that, don't you?\"\n\n\"We'll find a way of working things out Sara, I will make this work we will make this work together. I will give up everything, she, sorry you both mean everything to me. We'll get this funeral out of the way and go away, just we three. We will take the boat and sail away? Get to know each other again, not that getting to know you earlier wasn't nice, very nice in fact.\"\n\n\"I doubt Jess will like the boat idea, she's not a water person. She likes her feet firmly on the ground, but yes, we spend some time together and decide things slowly. It's not like we have to get married, we're a little too old to be told we have to, and Jess isn't a baby.\"\n\n\"Oh, but we have to get married Jess insists, as does Mom! Sorry, she insists and in fact she would like to do it at home when we go back. I think she's already planning it.\"\n\n\"Ben, what happened to slow and easy? You are railroading me into this, you and our daughter are going to be murder together. Come on dinner, I'm starving, and we are being watched.\"\n\n\"She just wants to know if you said yes or not, you did say yes and mean it, didn't you?\"\n\n\"It seems I did and yes, and I meant it, you got me in a good mood and for some strange reason, my resistance was at best minimum? Dinner, your guests need your company too.\" With that, Jess came bounding over.\n\n\"Well, are my parents getting married and making me legal? You did say yes Mom, I said you would say yes, please Mom tell me you said yes?\"\n\n\"I said yes, happy? You two had better not keep ganging up on me.\" They both laughed as I walked off, they really are birds of a feather and as we make our way to the dining room there's pandemonium happening in the hallway. I turn to see an entourage of people bags and commotion and in the centre Flavia De Portia. Oh my God, she's stunning.\n\n\"Darling have my bags taken to our room. Leo the staff say I was not expected, but you sent me an email asking me to join you, and I haven't been here in age's darling. Oh, I see you are seeing to the guests, I will wait. Do I get them to take my bags to our room?\" I smile as Jess gets the look. Oh hell...\n\n\"Dad who is she? I'm sorry you are? No matter, I'm Jessica his daughter and not a guest and my father, as you can clearly see, is here with my mom.\"\n\n\"She jokes, no? You never wanted children, you never said you had children? Who...? When did this happen, who is her mother? Did you forget we are getting married? Your email said we were to sort things out?\"\n\n\"Flavia, stop right there. I never promised you anything of the kind, you are welcome to stay, but as a guest and for the one night, it's too late to be going back to wherever you came from? My Daughter and Fiancée are in my wing, my family and I are having a few days relaxation. The staff are correct, your booking was cancelled months ago, and your office were made aware of it, as were you. I never sent you an email I haven't done for a while, it's been months since we last saw each other, and I made my feelings quite clear then, both in person and by email. There was no engagement and definitely no wedding of any sort planned or unplanned.\"\n\n\"Two months ago, no, try just over a week ago? Did you forget the session at the Savoy? Don't be foolish, you don't want her? You can't be serious?\" I'm mad, because that was when I saw him, or thought I saw him at the Savoy, was he there with her?\n\n\"I will leave you to it, it seems you have things to discuss. Jess leave your father to it. He will sort it all out.\" I grabbed Jess's hand and I walked her to the dining room, leaving them to it.\n\n\"Mom, are you mad leaving her to get her hooks into him? She will be all over him. Mom stop, we can't leave them together?\"\n\n\"Jess, he will be with us as soon as he sorts her out, all this has happened so quickly, and he still has loose ends to tie up, and if he wants her then he doesn't need me, but he will still be your father when push comes to shove Little Bird.\"\n\n\"I don't know Mom. She looked like she meant business. My Dad's quite a catch you know?\" I laughed. She was giving her father the look. Lord, help him because she's getting pissed off with the whole situation, and our daughter is on tenterhooks.\n\n\"Jess, please stop worrying he will be back, come on your mom's a little bit hungry.\" I was worried yes, because I'm not stupid. I know she's stunning, but I also saw the look in his eyes when he saw her, the sheer panic. He's not going anywhere... I hope? We take our places at the table, as Jess is looking towards the door, the food is delivered, the first course is wonderful, but Jess still hasn't eaten. I nudge her to eat and she reluctantly does.\n\n\"Mom are you not worried, he's been out there forever?\" I shake my head, no. I would be a fool if I weren't, but I had to trust Ben and try settle Jess down. I had to hope it was as he'd said that I am all he needed, well Jessica and me, and I pray I am not making a mistake. The second course is the pheasant, not ours because this has been hung for a while and is really good. Poor Jess again looks towards the doors. I am starting to get a little nervous now too. When the doors suddenly open, and he takes his seat apologising to everyone for being late.\n\n\"Sorry about that Sara, you too Jess, now eat please Jess. Please don't worry, she and her party have gone to their rooms. It seems she was correct. She was sent an email asking her to come to stay. I was checking to see if she was lying and it seems she wasn't, she was sent an email and it seems to have come from my office this morning. Sent whilst we were out shooting, so I know I didn't send it, which means if I didn't, who did? Jess eat your food, it will be getting cold, eat please? Are you alright Sara? Please eat.\" He is worried, so is Jess. I give his cheek a kiss, and he relaxes. Then he kisses me back, Jess at last relaxes too.\n\n\"I'm starving, all that fresh air has given me an appetite. How about you Jess, are you not hungry? Ben stop worrying, you will sort all the mess out. It may be someone having fun at her expense knowing I was here with you, who did she piss off at your office?\" He laughed.\n\n\"Everyone at some point, but how would they know you were here and were with me? Yesterday I was just spending the weekend with clients, you were down on the booking as last-minute replacements, it just said in the diary two female guests of the Savoy. No names were in the book and until yesterday we hadn't met, not until I walked in saw Jess and interrupted your weekend?\" He laughed as he said it too. I looked at Jess she was eating again. She thought the damn hot model was competition for his affections... I don't think she is willing to share him just yet.\n\n\"No, they knew who we were, because Clive rang the office Ben, and he gave our names. I heard him quite clearly, your secretary made a joke about our hippy names. Perhaps someone is messing with you, what about your secretary, do you trust her?\"\n\n\"Yes, she was with Dad for years, she has another assistant Bella, and she's a little strange? I catch her all the time mooning over at me. She doesn't know about you and our past, but Delphia did. She would have recognised the names and said something to me. So perhaps Bella wrote the entry in the diary. This is getting quite weird and wacky. It seems we have ourselves a conundrum Baby? Jess we are going to Edinburgh tomorrow and going to visit the castle. We're taking your mom's car back to the hire place too and spending the day together just we three, is that alright?\"\n\n\"We are? Great Dad, yes that will be fantastic. I need some more film and a warmer coat too, Mom, can I have a new coat, yes?\" I am looking at him and wondering was he always so in control?\n\n\"Why am I taking the car back?\"\n\n\"We can take mine back to London and having two cars mean we will be separated, and you can use one of mine for the rest of your trip. I intend to spend as much catch up time with you two as is possible.\"\n\n\"I have a car at Grandy's, in fact I have two. She still has the banana wagon and my little red mini.\" He laughs, as he does his eyebrows rise. I wonder if he remembers breaking down that night and keeping warm in the back seat. Then he laughs.\n\n\"Did it not breakdown the last time we were in it? Damn piece of junk, it was cold as hell and it took them hours to get to us. Remind me why were we in the middle of nowhere again?\"\n\n\"We were on a hike in the Lake District, because you were getting lazy, and as I recall we were warm enough snuggled in the back seat.\"\n\n\"Ewe Mom, Dad no sex talk, please, Daughter in the room, impressionable ears and all that? Besides, so not cool Mom talking about sex with your parents.\" Jess is as red as a post box and so too is Ben. I just laugh.\n\n\"That reminds me, boys. Do I have to have a talk with any?\"\n\n\"Ewe, no Dad, and you're not ever going there, I swear I thought you would be a cool Dad.\"\n\n\"Umm, I will be a damn protective Dad, because nobody is hurting my Little Bird. Now what did you think about the shoot?\"\n\n\"Fine, but I can't wait to go deer hunting, it was a little tame the standing and just shooting. Mom said you would have had a kitten if we did it whilst walking. You would be so nervous if we did it on horseback.\" He agrees, as he does the late guests join us, she really has pushed the boat out. The dress is very revealing. Jess scowls, Ben smiles and as he does, he winks at me.\n\n\"Now that's overkill, and I'm not turning the heating up. She will be throwing a jacket on soon enough. Right Jess, desserts what do you want? The cook made you a very sticky chocolate cake, apparently, you told her it was your favourite and she made you it. Unusual that, she never makes my favourite desserts?\" I watched as Jess and he settled down and their laughter was heard throughout the room. It is so real, he is here, and I am happy! Jess is in her element and Ben, Ben is back, and yup the pinch I gave myself again, it still hurts.\n\nI drank the wine and listened to Ben's guests. They were all part of a company he was hoping to acquire, they were only here because at the tenth hour they had heard he was breaking the company up and selling it off, something he's known for doing these days, which shocked me, he seemed to have turned into his father were business was concerned? He did a lot of soothing of nerves and I watched him as he spoke, and I feel a sense of pride in my man and his work as he soothes and calms them all. He knew what he was doing, he knew what he was saying, and as he rattled off facts and figures, they accepted the fact that certain things had to go.\n\nSome parts had to be made in the Far East, but the mainstay of the company would be the upgraded assembly shipyard here, for the outfitting and the customising of the yachts. All to the customers own requirements and it would still be here in England, in the old shipyard they already had, only upgrading everything for the custom yachts they built. My God he builds yachts now too? I need to know what his job involves, I knew he bought and sold land and buildings, but building yachts too? I just presumed he was a realtor. I yawned.\n\n\"Go to bed Sara your tired, please Baby? I will join you in a while. I will see to Gerry and his party, then come and join you later? Jess are you stopping here with your old Dad?\"\n\n\"Nah sorry I'm tired too, we have a lot to do tomorrow, is it alright if I go up too?\"\n\n\"Sure Jess, do you want me to tuck you in?\" She laughs as he says it in all honesty.\n\n\"If you want, you can stop by and say goodnight. I'm going to upload the photos I took today, and then chat to my friends and go to sleep. Mom stopped tucking me in years ago.\" He shrugged his shoulders.\n\n\"See you later then, sweet dreams Little Bird.\" We went to bed and as we passed Flavia, she smiled, dream on woman he's all mine. I had a red hot shower and waited for him in bed and I fell asleep reading. I woke who knows when, as the book clattered to the floor. I looked to my side, and there was no Ben, then at the clock, it was saying it was four in the morning. I went in search of him, and oh hell I wish I hadn't. I saw him alright coming out of my old room, his jacket in his hand and smiling. I rushed back to our bed and lay back down, pretending to be asleep. He came in undressed and got in the shower, obviously washing the sex from him, I was so angry at my stupidity, he wanted Jess not me.\n\nWhy had I been so naïve, why would he want a half-breed Indian, when he could have her, the ravishing young Italian model? He came in after a while, I pretended to be sleeping, obviously it's Jess he wants not me. He slipped between the sheets kissed my head and slept, his arms holding me to him, and I struggled to get sleep, knowing what I knew. He was still sleeping when I left him. I was confused, and I needed to get out of here and far away and as soon as possible, but leaving Ben would upset Jess, what was I going to do? As I got to the dining room, the guests, including the model and her friends are having breakfast. She smiled over at me, and as she did, she gave me a look.\n\n\"Leo has said we can stop for a few more days if we want. I think I would like to join the hunt, it looks like it could be fun. What do you think Jamie? Should we accept Leo's kind offer of a few days here?\" I smiled at Jess and I grabbed my breakfast as she watched, so I eat when stressed, shoot me bitch. The model was drinking black coffee and smoking. I looked at her and smiled.\n\n\"Jess would you be upset if I went back home, there's a problem on the ranch and the case they are working on has hit a major problem? You can stay for the summer with your father and I will get back as soon as I can?\"\n\n\"No Mom, I wouldn't like that, at all and I know Dad wouldn't either, he's so happy you are back in his life and he has me too. Why can't Uncle David do the work on the case and I'm sure the ranch hands and Cane can sort out the problems at the ranch, they did when Shiitsooyee was alive and to be honest Mom you have never had to deal with problems at the ranch. Why are you running away Mom, because of her? You don't have anything to worry about Mom, I came down for a drink because I couldn't sleep, you know, because it's so exciting getting a Dad? Dad and me, we talked and talked, sorry Mom, but we talked nearly all night too, in his study. She tried to come in and interrupt, but Dad sent her away with a flea in her ear and she went to drown her sorrows. When we finished talking, we saw her, you should have seen her Mom, she was so drunk it was hilarious. She'd passed out in a drunken heap, at the bar and she'd been sick everywhere Mom.\n\nDad had to carry her to bed, not a pleasant task for Dad, because she groped him, and I sort of slapped her hands away from him. He put her to bed and oh boy it was funny, well for me not Dad, 'cos he was kinda embarrassed, she was pulling him into her bed, so he just threw her down. I offered to clear up the mess, because he needed a shower, he stunk as she had thrown up again and all over him this time, as well as on her bedroom floor. We stopped and cleared her room, as she snored.\n\nDad laughed as I swore in Italian at her, she said I was to go away, I was the old whore's bastard. I said no she was so wrong, because I knew who my father was, and she wasn't having him. He belongs to my older than her, but nicer than her, Mom. We'd already cleaned the bar up, and then the sick in the bedroom he stank. I'm surprised the smell didn't wake you, he offered to wait for me and tuck me in. I said get a shower he needed it. I stripped the skinny Italian and made her comfortable, placing a sick bucket at the bed side and then I went to bed.\"\n\n\"You were with your dad all night? He didn't spend time with her?\"\n\n\"No, he doesn't like her like that I asked him. He just said they had sex nothing else and he had sex with her over a week ago, because he was hammered. Apparently, it was the day he thought he saw you. When he actually did see you that day? Well he, sorry, they had sex, he even remembered calling her Sara. Apparently, that got him a slap, he was still hung over when he saw me at the gym too, he's been drinking a lot since that day. He didn't want anything else with anyone else.\n\nHe wasn't over you, but he said he had certain needs. Yes Mom, we discussed everything. He didn't believe me when I said you had only ever been with him. He really was shocked too that you'd stayed faithful to him and was and is so sad he hadn't. I told him not to be stupid, no two people are the same. Also, that between your work, training, the ranch, me, Grandy and Grandpa, you didn't have much time for socialising. You two need to talk Mom.\" My heart was fit to burst.\n\n\"I will do Jess and they can deal with the problems, it's what we pay them for, and if we stop here...\" She squealed. \"...If, we stop here they will have to get used to it. I need to go and wake your father and I may be a while Jessica Jay?\"\n\n\"Ewe Mom, please remember the conversation about no sex talk, me, the Daughter, is at that impressionable age. Go make me a brother or sister, Dad wants more kids and I want more too?\"\n\n\"Oh my God, tell me you didn't discuss that too?\" She nodded, and I left the room. The Italian was at the bar...\n\n\"Oh Flavia, I didn't introduce myself yesterday, I'm Sara and you're welcome to stop as long as you want in our castle, but if you are sick again, you or one of your minions clear it up and I will be sending you the bill for cleaning Ben and our daughters clothes, and your more than welcome to come on the hunt. I'm a crack shot, I may enjoy teaching your skanky young arse a thing or two, we old whores can do that you know. Oh, Ben and I are engaged and sorry you're not invited to the wedding.\" I nearly ran up the stairs. As I opened the door, he was waking so I stripped off, and jumped in the bed. I was so relieved, why did I think so lowly of him? I snuggled into him and kissed his nose.\n\n\"Good morning Baby, this is a nice way to wake up, come here I know a better way a much better way.\" I giggled as he tickled me and laid on top of me, looking into my eyes. \"I love you Sara, so much I can't believe your still here, and this isn't a dream. I want to marry you and soon, we, Jess and I had a long, long talk last night and we have decided she wants more siblings, can we... Well can we start working on some, because I'm not getting any younger Baby, and I do want to give her everything she wants.\" I laugh as he kisses me again.\n\n\"Sounds like a plan, being as I'm not actually on birth control, I never had the need after you, and well, you were too carried away to ask, when we did it yesterday. Consider this the start of trying but beware I'm really cranky when I'm pregnant and believe it or not, bad tempered.\"\n\n\"Umm so what are we waiting for?\" We spent a very enjoyable few hours having really loud and frantic sex, it was fantastic and as we showered, he held me tightly. I nearly ran away from this, was I mad? He still loves me, and I can finally see it for myself.\n\n\"Ben, we, Jess and I are moving to Richmond, Jess wants it and I think I do too, but the holidays we spend in Arizona, at the ranch and Jess when she goes to university it will be there. I will make the other four guys partners of the firm and I will retire. It seems I may be concentrating on having a bigger family, are you alright with that?\"\n\n\"Yes, but I can give my position to Paulo, he has always wanted it. I don't need the money and I only worked as hard and as long as I did to fill the void you left.\"\n\n\"No, there's something funny about Paulo and I can't put my finger on it, I know I only met him the once, but there's something niggling me about him! Give me time and I will remember what it is, but for now you continue being the man that you are, and we will work around you. That is until we sort this mess we call our life out, but you and Jess are all I need to be happy. Come on we have a daughter, who's itching to go see another bloody castle.\" We dressed and went down, just in time to see Flavia and her entourage leaving, good riddance to bad rubbish, after an air kiss of Ben's cheeks she left and as we waved her off. I smiled, because he looked damn relieved too.\n\n\"Right, one cuckoo removed from our nest, and my family are off to see a castle in Edinburgh. Hamish has taken your car to the city Sara, and he has taken the gun safe out already, your guns are in the safe here, if that's alright? All your sickly, sweet mess is out of there too, and he had it cleaned, you two ate some crap coming up?\" I stare into his eyes and swoon. He said his family. We are doing this for real, it's no longer the dream I have had for years, but is happening. \"Sara, I asked you what sort of food, did you eat coming up here Baby?\"\n\n\"Sorry I was miles away Ben, I blame Jess she loves English chocolate.\"\n\n\"I don't know Baby there was an awful lot under the driver's seat?\"\n\n\"So, okay, I may be a little into chocolate again, so yup, I'm guilty as charged, your honour I am a chocolate junkie. Come on then let's go. Jessica Jay come on, we're ready.\" She came running out of the bar smiling, jumped in the car earphones in and the boy band playing loudly in her ears. She was eating yet more chocolate cake and was singing along, all at the same time, not a good look. She shouted her instructions at Ben to slow down and to watch the road. Unaware she was being loud.\n\n\"Don't worry she stops after a while, she's even worse in the front seat, she has to stop herself from grabbing the wheel, she is such a good driver already. She's going to be sorely upset to know she can't drive here until she's seventeen! I think you can tell her that Daddy?\" We were busy talking when Jess screamed to pull over.\n\n\"Dad there's been an accident look, there's a car and it's ran off the road. It's back down the road about two hundred meters just after the turn, please check it out Dad?\"\n\n\"I will sweetheart, stay in the car, Sara you too, please?\" I watched as he ran to the place Jess had said she saw the crashed car, he disappeared down the embankment and I followed, because he'd disappeared over the edge so had seen something. I got there and was more than a little shocked, at the horrific scene below me.\n\n\"Ben what's the matter, are they, are they alright? Ben that's my car. That's my hire car, for Christ's sake Ben is poor Hamish alright?\" He looked up and that face was not one telling me he was okay, Ben was really pale and his whole body is shaking, its bad.\n\n\"Stay there Sara, you don't need to see this, phone for the police and ambulance, he's in a mess, but alive. Pass me the first aid kit from the boot of the car. Please?\" I rang the emergency services and went back to the car, first I grabbed the first aid kit, telling Jess to sit tight. I scampered down the embankment, and after Ben had moved, I saw the mess before me. Poor Hamish was stuck behind the wheel, his head was bleeding, luckily the bag had worked and was now deflated, but he was still a mess. I looked him over as Ben watched from the passenger side. I covered the steering wheel with my jacket, as there was white powder everywhere, the bag had split and the powders within it are toxic, like Hamish needs to be poisoned too?\n\nI set about patching him up the best I could. The head wound looked worse than it was, after the blood was cleared away, I packed the wound and wrapped his head in a bandage. I ran my hand down his legs, his leg seemed to be pinned in under the crumpled front of the car, he was unconscious and barely breathing. I secured his head to the headrest, and Ben sat in the back of him holding it in place, whilst I wrapped the bandage around the seat and his head, then I cleared the blood from his mouth. This is bad, really bad.\n\n\"Ben, get a blanket from the car and see to Jess, get me some more water. I need to clear the blood and see what's what and hurry. Please don't worry I'm fine.\" He went returning with a spare jacket for me and a blanket. \"Ben, he may lose his leg or die, when they release the car from the tree. He will bleed to death, Christ almighty this isn't looking good. Was he a good driver? There were no skid marks on the road either I checked.\"\n\n\"He is, and he has never had an accident before. Sara, he drives me about all the time when I'm here. Jesus Christ Sara, this could have been you, you could have been driving this car!\" I'd already figured that much out myself.\n\nAfter what seemed an age Ben was showing the paramedics and the doctor down, I'd already phoned and asked for the fire brigade as he would need cutting out, whilst on phone to emergency services. I told them they would need to send an accident trauma surgeon. He was the doctor they had sent. I had unfortunately seen this type of accident once too often back home, visitors drove too fast down the mountains, misjudging the curve and the roads closeness to the edge and whammy, they would lose control and career off the edge of the road. I was forever helping with the crashes, in fact that had been my lot for more times than I cared to remember, so this wasn't new to me, but in a way, it was good for poor Hamish.\n\nWe waited in our car as they worked on releasing him, luckily for him he was out of it. We waited as they worked, and it was I suspected he would die and bleed out, so they were amputating his crushed leg by his knee. They pulled the car from the tree, and he was released and rushed away. We followed the ambulance to the hospital. The police were here in number too as we left. One constable was coming with us to the hospital in our car.\n\n\"You were very good Miss Bird, you possibly saved his life, according to the paramedic.\"\n\n\"We get those kinds of accidents all too often back home, people think a four wheel drive is invincible, but unfortunately for most they aren't, nature and mature trees are way stronger than any metal car. I should have been driving in that car. He was just taking it back for me, poor Hamish.\"\n\n\"Why was that Miss Bird?\" Ben held my hand tightly and answered the questions.\n\n\"My family are driving back in my car, I didn't think it was practical for two cars and as Sara's car was a rental, Hamish was taking it back to their place in Glasgow, whilst we went to Edinburgh for the day. He was then stopping a while with his mother. I have to let Massie know this had happened because she's housebound and will be expecting him.\"\n\n\"No worries Sir, we will send officers to her home and have her brought to the hospital. The car Miss Bird, was it in good working order? Were there any problems with it?\"\n\n\"No, no it was fine. He didn't break as he went around the corner, there were no skid marks, I checked. This is a highly suspicious crash and I don't think it was an accident. Ben says he's an excellent driver, could the car have been tampered with?\"\n\n\"We won't know until we get it back and forensics takes a look. Have you got enemy's Miss Bird, Mr Vinci?\"\n\n\"I do business with a lot of people, some don't like the outcome of my taking over their companies, so as to your question, yes I have a lot, hence the security. If you see, there's a car following us, I have it at all times. Miss Bird, she doesn't live here, she only arrived a little under two weeks ago from Arizona, so even she can't have pissed anyone off so soon, or have you?\" I smile because he's not telling them about me being followed, and I wonder why? He squeezes my hand, as we pull up to the hospital.\n\n\"I will send security for Hamish's mother, could a constable meet him there? She will only panic, and I'll have his sister picked up too?\" He agrees and gives him her address and tells his security to go bring Massie to the hospital. We go and await news, as Jess raids the vending machine, her father watching her closely.\n\n\"Ben has this got something to do with the people following me, and the reason Flavia was here? What's going on, I'm a little afraid for Jess? My brother could be behind this too Ben. I should have told them about his past, our past and his depravity and drug problems, he could have owed people money and they want it from me, now he is dead?\"\n\n\"I don't know that a dead man can tamper with a car Sara. I need to see the picture you have of the guy following you, oh and Dad is on his way with Mom. He needs my help. He says he thinks Paulo is mixed up with bad people. They haven't heard from him in a few days, and he normally rings home at least once a day.\" I shiver.\n\n\"Ben, I know this sounds farfetched, but did Paulo know Declan?\"\n\n\"No, they didn't run in the same circles Sara, not that I know of anyway. I will get our security team to check your suspicions out.\" I smile. I go to the toilet and make a phone call.\n\n\"Hi Boss Lady, what can I do for you today?\"\n\n\"Eli, you can get your butt on the next flight out here. I need you. I think someone's trying to kill me and Jess?\"\n\n\"I'm on the next flight to London, are you at your house in Richmond?\"\n\n\"No, charter a private jet and get it to bring you to Glasgow airport, we're at Ben's castle here.\" I gave him the address and tell him to him hurry and I will have Ben's people meet them at the airport.\n\n\"See you soon Boss Lady, keep close to Ben, be aware of your surroundings, avoid crowds and watch for strangers, oh and don't let Jessica out of your sight.\" He was now worried, he would be, poor Eli.\n\n\"See you when you get here and bring all you need with you, and whoever else you need too.\" I put the phone in my pocket.\n\nI went back, only to see Ben is thumping the machine, Jess's candy was stuck, and his temper and frustration is clear to see as he shakes the machine! He was worried, and I can't help thinking we are in for more chaos in our lives, and I don't know why? The only person I have pissed off here is dead. I approach Ben carefully as the damned machine is besting him, I feed the machine more coins, and Jess gets two candy bars and Ben sighs and places his head on the glass front of his nemesis, the vending machine. Jess, thanks him and then kisses her father's cheek, and he instantly relaxes.\n\n\"Don't shout, but I'm having Eli and my security team fly here, and I am having them look into all this, I have a feeling we will need him? He's bringing his team and I trust him Ben. Someone who works with you or for you, knows something and is passing on information to someone else, as you said who knew I was here? This is all too close to home for you to see anything wrong, and Eli is ex-Mossad, though apparently, you're never really an ex in their organisation? I dread to think of the consequences if these are true threats against us, because he will kill to keep Jess and I safe. He swore an oath to Dad on his death bed and believe me he has always looked out for me and is the best person I know for the job. He recruited the people to care for Jess.\"\n\n\"She has security?\"\n\n\"Yes, she has had them all her life, but to her they are family. The team he's bringing with him have worked for me for fifteen years, and before me they were there for Dad. Eli has always been in my life. Our beloved Uncle Eli is Jess's Godfather and her mentor, in fact he is her everything since Dad died. I need them Ben, because someone wants me out of the picture and I'm sorry, but I feel it has something to do with Paulo and security at your place, I feel it. I also think it's got something to do with Declan, there's something niggling away in my head. I can't put my finger on it, I just have this seventh sense thing going on up here,\" I tap the side of my head, \"that it's something to do with Declan and Paulo knowing each other?\"\n\n\"Alright, you have a point. We keep Jess with us, and I will increase security, Mike and the guys have been with me for years and work for me not the company, I will get him to watch Jess. Why is this happening Sara, why did Jess need security at home?\"\n\n\"You now have an heir and she is worth more than she was before, a hell of a lot more. I'm back in your life, so who ever wanted me out of it before, may be back to get me out of it again. I'm sure that's what it is? I had Jess watched Ben, because I had too, because of what Declan did, that's all. She was too precious to lose. I'd lost you Ben and she was all I had left of you.\"\n\n\"Sara, it seems we may very well have people out to get us. I get that, I do and the money thing. What can we do now?\"\n\n\"We can't do anything until Eli gets here, but make sure she's safe and we have to make sure Hamish is well looked after. I can't lose you again Ben, I can't, and neither can your daughter. Please be careful and you watch your back too, please do not do anything heroic, promise me?\"\n\n\"Oh Baby, you didn't lose me, and you'll never be without me again, do you hear me never. Hamish will be well cared for and get the best help he needs don't worry, and Massie too.\" The doctors came out to inform us of his condition, poor Hamish he was very weak because of the blood loss at the accident sight. The cut was clean, and he would heal well, however he was going to need to spend a lot of time in hospital and in rehabilitation too, but he would live. We were advised to go home, because there was very little else for us to do here.\n\nHe would be out of it for a couple of days, high on pain medication, but Massie was staying by his bed with his sister, they were to be put up in a hotel near the hospital and are given a member of Ben's own security, a man called Joe, who was to run them around and get them food or whatever they needed, no questions asked. Ben wanted them safe too. He thought highly about Hamish and his family, as they were all good to him when he stopped in the castle. We left for the castle a lot more worried than we were when we set off to visit Edinburgh Castle this morning.\n\nChapter 11:\n\nArriving at the Castle, we were informed Ben's parents would be arriving before dinner. Great, just what I needed to be doing right now, meeting the people who didn't want to know us before, and now they do? I can't wrap my head around it, their sudden need to want us after fifteen, nearly sixteen years of rejection. The atmosphere here could be a tad chilly, actually it could and would be as chilled as deep freeze. I may be nice, after I hear the explanations for their rejection. Jess, she however, is so excited and happy to be meeting them finally, just as Ben is, he is a proud father and excited at being able to show her off. I was still really worried that there had been too many coincidental happenings, to concentrate on playing happy families.\n\nI needed to get the niggling doubts from my brain, a very foolish doubt actually, that this is all a dead man's doing. I know Declan though and what's to say though, that he could have possibly put balls in motion before he died, sorry before Mommy Dearest killed him? That's another thing that has blighted this death pact thing they supposedly had, how did she kill him? Who helped her, because she could hardly move, and he wouldn't have sat still waiting for her to do it? Shit, was there someone else helping her, and if there was, who was it? I went for a bath to at least attempt to relax, but with more and more questions entering my head, it seemed like all the damn bath would do was clean me, would that the steam could unlock my brain, because there's something there, but I don't know what it is? I stepped into the bubbles as Ben came in the room, he sat on the toilet lid watching me as I bathed.\n\n\"Have you got any family photos or home movies here? I have this feeling I have seen Paulo somewhere else and it's bugging me. I know I saw him the once at your offices, as I waited in your car for you, but he had his back to me, and he hated me even without ever seeing me. He was talking on the phone about me to someone, telling them I was just another one out for your money. I hate that this could all be about bloody money again.\"\n\n\"Really Sara, you think it's got something to do with Paulo?\"\n\n\"No, I'm not sure of anything. I am less sure now Declan's dead, but I need that one spark to light the fire that needs to burn away the other crud in my head. Please don't laugh, I am serious, something in my head is hidden and I have a feeling it's about my time in the castle tower. Paulo, I just don't know, but there's just something about him, something minuscule, but important and that's really bugging me. I can't put my finger on it, but whatever it is, it's going to be the key to opening the door hiding some seriously crazy secrets.\"\n\n\"Like what, Sara?\"\n\n\"If I knew that I wouldn't need the spark, the fire or a lobotomy!\" He smiled. \"I think it's about something that Mom mentioned before she died, about his 'wop friend?' One of her many husbands was an Italian, a so called Count, and she used to call him the wop, so who ever his friend was, he could have been Italian? She said he was the one putting him up to it, he was the one pulling his strings, forcing him into locking me away, whoever he was, he's the one responsible for my kidnapping.\"\n\n\"Declan was the mastermind behind this? With an Italian friend helping him?\"\n\n\"Ben, Declan wasn't clever enough to do it, not on his own, evil enough yes, but not all the other stuff, the newspapers, the grave. I know it's something to do with your brother. I will know when I see him, or hear him? Do you have something, anything with him speaking on it, anything, I have a feeling it's his voice?\" He took out his phone. He had a family photo album here too, there were a few pictures of the summer holidays Paulo had at their Italian villa. He went for a look in his mom's room here. Coming back, he had the album and his phone in his hand.\n\n\"I was thinking about the voice thing, it's a little bit mumbled, but I do have this, he sent me a message congratulating me on Jess. I'd phoned Mom and she must have told him. Listen to it, he's sarcastic and an arse, but I don't think it's got anything to do with him Baby.\" He pressed the message.\n\n\"Hello Brother Dearest, I hear congratulations are in order, you have a daughter. Such a shock finding her after all these years, but are you sure she's even your child and not just someone else after your fortune? Do you know how many people my people have to deal with claiming they are having your bastard baby? This is getting ridiculous Leo, more tests done and more money for your latest mistake? What next she wants back child support?\" I asked, and he replayed it twice more and a cold shiver went through me.\n\n\"Turn it off, turn it off please, it was him, he was Declan's drug dealer. That was the voice that was outside the room. I heard his voice outside the door when they thought I was asleep, I never saw him, but I will remember that voice as long as I live, and I only saw your brother as he passed your car on the way into your office. I never saw his face and he didn't say much, other than I was just someone else after your money. It was his voice Ben, he'd arranged for Jess to be sold, he said the same thing at the tower, that he would get money for my mistake. Ben, why does he hate you and I so much?\" I sobbed as Ben came in for a hug, he emptied the water out of the tub as I sat and shook, it was his brother I am two hundred and ten percent sure of it. He wrapped me in a towel and he just held on to me tightly.\n\n\"I promise I will look into it. If he knew you were having Jess, and he kept you a prisoner, I will kill him myself. Sara, he could have had the claims all sent to him, he was the one keeping you from me. I don't know why he would do it, nobody could be that vindictive and nasty, could they? You had done nothing wrong. Hell, I will kill him, I am so sorry Baby, my own brother did this to you, and to us.\"\n\n\"Declan was on the phone as soon as I told Mom about Jess, he was acting weird. Then he took my phone, he took my car keys. I couldn't leave, he was up to something and then the morning after I woke in the tower. A few days later, I heard a voice in the other room. Declan said once I'd had the baby, his debts would be all squared off. There were plenty of people looking for babies no questions asked. Then the voice said even his sister couldn't have a kid, and they were looking at adopting. Is that right, could she have children or not?\"\n\n\"No, that was why their marriage was in trouble, she desperately wanted children to please Mom and she couldn't. The funny thing is they were really upset months after you left me, a deal they had made to adopt had fallen through, the mother changed her mind and kept the child. You don't think they were adopting Jess, or do you? That would be too cruel, even for him. He sounds as sick now as Declan was.\" I looked at his photo album and as I flipped through the book, I got to the summer before I met Ben and oh my God, my heart was beating so quickly, and I wanted to be sick...\n\n\"You never met Declan, did you?\"\n\n\"Yes, I went to the castle to look for you, and he told me you had left. Remember I died in the crash on the way back to London?\"\n\n\"Don't that was horrible Ben, never make light of that again, please?\"\n\n\"Sorry Sara, but yes I have met the weasel.\"\n\n\"There is a photograph here look, I took this one a couple of summers before I even met you, a picture of the happy family. She used it in her book, another wasted day spent with the two of them. Declan came to Richmond to smarm is way into getting my home for the summer, to show off with his new friends, but there was not a chance in hell he was having my home. I let him use the castle, seeing as I was going to play cowboys and Indians for the summer. I relinquished the castle to him, but only if he took Mother with him.\" I showed him the photo, his eyebrow rose.\n\n\"I came looking for you at the castle, but that's a photo of Tony, not Declan, he's one of Paulo's friends from boarding school, he and another lad, shit I can't remember his name. He I didn't see a lot of, he was on his computer all the time, he was some sort of systems whiz, they came to stop in Italy a couple of times, and he, Tony was your brother? This wasn't the boy we spoke to at the castle either. Shit Sara, this is serious whoever is doing this wants you and Jess dead, but why?\n\nI would give up everything to keep you two safe I would sell the company tomorrow or step down. I wanted to give it all up when you died, then again when Donatella died. Mom was a mess and Giovanni was in the seminary, had you said him I may have believed it, but he is now a priest. It's not him, Father Vinci isn't the one we have to worry about, no Paulo's the one we need to be focusing on. We need his laptop and computers looking at all his files everything? I will have Delphia bring his office up here, lock stock and barrel.\" He made a phone call and it was being done, within the space of a few minutes Delphia got the whole ball rolling, everything would be here in the morning and she would come up too. He still hadn't shown up at the office and he had been missing for a few days, possibly a week.\n\n\"Ben, I'm afraid to tell you this, but this has something to do with me, this photo here is Paulo yes? That is Declan or Tony, as you knew him, he used his middle name, but this one lad here, his one he is called Richard, now he does hate me enough.\" I had a headache. \"Ben, do you remember, before I met you, I told you I was having trouble with a boy who wanted more, and wouldn't take no for an answer?\"\n\n\"Yes, the boy at university, the idiot who hounded you, even after we started dating, what of him?\"\n\n\"Yes, one in the same. He always threatened to get even with you for romancing me away from him. Ben, in his delusional world, he and I were a couple and you had stolen me away from him, with your flash cars and money. He was Italian too, his name is Richard, he came from a fancy boarding school, to my university. He loved to boast it was a good one, which his father paid a lot of money for, because his father wanted him to get the best education money could buy. Ben, he seemed to think I liked money, but he didn't know me at all, if that's what he thought I needed? I didn't know he knew my brother before me, or that he knew Paulo, or that they went to the castle, or that they all went to the same boarding school, it seems? We didn't know our brothers at all Ben?\"\n\n\"How? I mean why? Or do I really mean how? I am confused by this, why the name changes and deceptions? Do you think they planned this even before we met Sara?\" I flipped through the album. I turned the pages and all three of their faces are staring back at me from their shiny plastic cover. What the flipping heck, did this trio of nutters want?\n\n\"I don't know, but I met Richard Marsh, that was his name, the first year in university. Damn, these photos are at the castle and here is the fabled tower I was kept in. Paulo, Declan and Richard are in my bedroom look, that's my bed. They were in my room, so he knew me even before he came to university. Grandy has pictures everywhere up there. I need to be sick, the three of them were in my room there and God knows what else they searched through? Perverted bastards. Ben don't leave me please, no matter what we find out, if it is an old plan of Declan's, or of your brother?\" He looked at the three faces sat on my bed and pulled a face and pointed at Richard.\n\n\"I'm never leaving you again ever. The middle one here, sat between this Tony and Paulo. He is the one who said he was Declan, that's who told me you were travelling with Grandy, this was the Declan I met. Him, I know. That damned face, it's not a young as that though, he was called Ricco, I think? Mom would know, she never forgets a name, but I would put money on it being Ricco. Oh hell, this goes deeper than we thought. He was passing himself off as Declan. Did he touch you as you slept Baby?\" He was shouting through from the other room and looking for clearer pictures. I didn't need them, I knew who Richard was, he was my stalker at university, and he became my bloody nightmare shadow.\n\n\"No, I would put a chair behind the door as I slept, and I only slept at night, all the other times I was just pretending, so I could listen to them talk. If they seemed to be coming in, I would wake and stretch, then go back to sleep. Nobody came in other than the nurse and Declan.\" I was shocked, tired, confused and angry.\n\nNow I needed answers. Ben came back with bigger pictures to show Eli when they arrived, he looked less worried now we had some sort of semblance of who we were dealing with, but neither of us could begin to hazard a guess as to the all-important one, why? Now we knew the players, perhaps the answers we were looking for, we thought would be an easy find. They were not great at keeping me captive, okay they did but their end game failed. This was so messed up, yet strangely intriguing, and if it hadn't already cost people their lives, I would have been enjoying the thrill of the chase, but it was serious, and I had to think of Jess.\n\n\"Mike has put guards on the doors here and yes Baby, we're going to be held captive for a while. We need to tell Jess, but I can look after you better here. The whole building is on a great security system, as are the grounds, and we have everything we need for a few weeks. We need Eli and Mike on it, and I need to see phone records, he must have called people, right? Come on your shivering, get dressed. Mom and Dad will be here soon and are eager to see you and Jess. Expect hugs and a lot, they will be upset with all this, so I will tell Dad first, before we tell Mom. Gaining a granddaughter won't make up for what her son has done.\"\n\n\"If we hadn't come back Ben, everyone would have been alright.\"\n\n\"No, we wouldn't Sara, we wouldn't be together, and I wouldn't know about our daughter. Never say that, these have been the best days of my life. I have you back and my daughter, I love you and our Little Bird so much.\" I dressed to meet the in-laws, yet still feeling suspicious about everything, and worried more about Jess's safety. We went to find Jess who was chilling in her room, we knocked and went in, she was dancing to her I-pod, unaware of anything that was going on, thankfully. She turned around to see us smiling at her.\n\n\"Little Bird, your Nonna and Nonno are on their way. Please get dressed and get ready to be hugged to death. Jess they are really looking forward to seeing you and may be a little over enthused, I apologise for the sore cheeks and broken ribs, before they get here.\"\n\n\"I can't wait Dad. Mom have you been crying?\"\n\n\"No Jess I got shower gel in my eyes and it's stinging a little. Dad and I need to talk to you and its really serious Jess. For the next couple of days, you can't leave the castle, sorry Jess but it's for your safety. Uncle Eli is coming to look after us, because someone, and no we don't know whom or why just yet, is trying to harm you, me and possibly your dad too. We need you in here, safe. You go nowhere without Mike or Asher, he's coming with Eli too.\"\n\n\"Asher who is he Sara, is he security?\"\n\n\"Dad, he's the biggest Samoan I have ever seen, he is a mixed martial arts specialist and along with Eli, he teaches Mom and me, Krav Maga. We do two classes a week and Thai boxing too. No one is getting past Asher. Great Mom we can train again, I've missed it.\"\n\n\"You do Krav Maga, that's lethal. Some of the guys do it at the gym and they are forever covered in bruises and ache when they have a session, it's like street fighting, yes?\"\n\n\"It is good exercise and great self-defence and we enjoy it. I will get Asher to teach you. The gym here's already set up and there's plenty of mats, and yes Ben it's street fighting to the untrained eye. It's the best self-defence I know of, it's actually hand to hand combat, the Israel army used it first and if it stops our daughter from being taken, beaten up or being attached. Her knowing it and how to use it correctly, then I'm not sorry.\"\n\n\"Alright, I will watch you two do it! I'm sorry, I just don't want either of you harmed.\"\n\n\"Ben, we won't be, we train to be perfect at it, sometimes a punch goes wrong, a move isn't executed correctly, but we take it in our stride. I wouldn't put her in harm's way. I have been doing it fifteen years, Jess for the past three. She started off slowly, it was more like practising dance moves in the beginning, well-choreographed and lifesaving dance moves. She does very well at it, and she can even get a sly drop on Asher, and when she does, she doesn't stop bragging for days.\"\n\n\"I still need to know more about the two street fighters in my life then. I'm glad to know I have my own bodyguards.\"\n\n\"Umm, I like guarding your body too, such a task.\" Jess heard cars pull up and ran to the window, then let out an ear-piercing scream, she turned to tell us and saw her Mommy and Daddy kissing, God forbid.\n\n\"Ewe, Mom, Dad stop with the sex stuff. I know your codes now, act your ages please, you're making your little girl blush.\" Too much information from our daughter. \"Ooh Nonna and Nonno are here. Cool...\" With that the security guys escorted his parents in, and he wasn't kidding, poor Jess wasn't even down the stairs before she was swept off her feet. Never have I seen anyone so excited. I thought the poor woman was going to explode, his father's face too was like nothing I have ever seen before, and my father was in the room as Jess made her appearance and wasn't half as overjoyed as these two seemed, but then he had just watched my C-section. He was making sure I was well relaxed, as breached Jessica Jay refused to move, stubborn even in the womb.\n\nThey looked at her and cried and as his mom jabbered away in Italian, they said over and over Donatella, thank you, she was a darling, so beautiful and so like her father. Then I was hugged and squeezed to near death too, the whole tale was told again. Of our both being told the other was dead, all as we sat down to eat dinner with them. The castle was now just filled with security, staff and family, the other guests had left in the morning, with their deals having been successfully done, as was a day hunting deer. The next through the doors were Eli and his team, six of them and enough equipment to sink a battleship, all to be set up in the ballroom. Introductions are done and Nonna had to share her granddaughter with her godfather Eli, and her minder Asher, the squeezing continued as Ben watched.\n\n\"This Ben is Elijah Prinz or Eli or Uncle Eli, my security chief and computer wizard. This is Andy Barrow, the best hacker this side of the Mason-Dixon line, this little fella is Asher Taupo, Jess's bodyguard and boy frightener. He likes to pop to school and pick her up, so the boys know if they are stupid to mess up, they have the man mountain to face.\" I laughed as Asher and I hugged and touched noses, he shook Ben's hand and he touched Ben's nose too with his. Ben just looked at the near seven foot giant.\n\n\"Dad, that was the Honi, it's a Polynesian greeting, and one were two people greet each other by pressing noses and foreheads and inhaling at the same time, that's an honour Dad. Asher is exchanging his Ha, the breath of life and he is sharing his Mana, his spiritual power with you. Asher doesn't do that to everyone Dad, he's kinda welcoming you to the family?\" Ben, oh-ed and kept a watchful eye on the new arrivals.\n\n\"Thank you, Asher thank you very much, my daughter speaks very highly of you indeed, she didn't say you were quite as large as you are?\"\n\n\"Everyone is large compared to my little Jay-Jay, she is my princess and my child too. I have missed her so much; the place is defiantly quite without our little thunderstorm.\" Everyone laughed as she stuck out her tongue and ran to her grandparents\n\n\"This lady is Andrea Lander, and you don't want to know what she does, just to say she can find anything and get in anywhere and not always in the legal way.\" I signed to Harry that this was Jess's Father. I continued to sign as I introduced him.\n\n\"This is cheeky chap is Harry Binder, he is reader, he can tell if people are lying, hiding something or are worried about things. He watches their expression's and he's an expert lip reader, when you talk to him, do it to his face, he's deaf not stupid, far from it his IQ is off the scale. Remember not louder, but perhaps a little slower? Finally, this is my father's best friend, the best tracker and shot I know, and is who taught Jess and I to shoot from horseback, both guns and bows. Yes, now you can go wowowowo, an Indian with a bow and arrow. This is Thomas Redwing, Jess's advice giver, he advises her on everything and anything, he and Asher oversee all her care and are the two who warn off the boys.\"\n\n\"Argh, my best friend already, I'm pleased to meet you all, my home is your home. The cook has laid on food, and we have rooms for you all, thank you for coming to help my family. The office that my brother Paulo used, is being shipped here and will arrive first thing in the morning. I have access to all the computers with a master code, because he once hired an expert of his own to lock me out of a few systems, he wasn't aware I had this code.\n\nI would ask you don't mention the name Paulo around my mother, she has no idea he's up to his neck in all this, she doesn't speak much English either. I would ask you please, to refer to him as simply P. Thank you, I am indebted to you all for looking after my daughter, she says you are her family too, so welcome to mine. Anything you need, Mike here is your run to guy, he can get anything you need. I will see to dinner, thank you again, and yes I will keep saying it, keeping our Daughter safe is top priority, as is keeping her mom just as safe.\"\n\nMike and his guys helped them to set up in the ballroom, where there were tables, phone lines, modems, and all the things needed. They started setting up, the lads had been working on it on the flight over too so had already amassed some information. Jess was now back with Ben's Mom or Nonna, and no one was getting between them, not tonight, not even Man-Mountain-Asher. He was cuddled too as Jess explained who he was and how he looked after her.\n\nI talked Eli through the things I knew, and as we talked, the well-oiled machine started doing what they did best, finding things out. They started with phone calls and there were lots, including texts, several were sent by Paulo, but nothing in the past four days, he had fallen off the grid. Then he checked Declan's and his phone had been used this morning, just a short call to a phone that was presently turned off. He called a number constantly the week before my mother's death. Eli traced it to the woman who was my mother's nurse, their texts were rude and explicit.\n\n\"Eli, is it possible they were killing my mother before her time? Is Declan the one on the slab, I need to see the body, the damn nurse did the identification of the body, not me?\"\n\n\"I have already sent Andrea down, she slipped out after the introductions! Sara did you not spot her leaving, Sara focus regroup and be more aware, you have let your training slip. Now, I was thinking that myself, if it is not him who is it and why did they swap the body. She will be online soon, Ben allowed her the use of his plane. She will be in touch as soon as she gets photographic conformation, she is being met by a Detective Peters and Constable Bulmer. Your men from the police force there?\" I nod my head. Yes! \"She has dental records from both Paulo and Declan, she also has an x-ray of Paulo's broken leg and cracked skull. All are being sent to the coroner, along with the x-rays we have of your brothers last run in with you, when you broke his nose, it was remodelled. Grandy paid their medical bills, he also broke his leg skiing when he was eighteen. Hopefully, they will get them as soon as they open their emails. We were very busy on the plane and Andy has already found the backdoors to get into his private files. Now Boss Lady, let us do what you pay us good money to do, guard your daughter, does he know you have always had her watched?\"\n\n\"Yes, but only half of it, I will tell him, but he's already worried about all this. Eli, thank you for coming, what would I do if I didn't have you? I do have another doubt that the dead body is that of Declan. Who helped Mother kill him, he wasn't going anywhere quietly and certainly not headfirst into death? My Mother was too weak to kill him unaided. I know the secretary left as we did, the night Mom died. Eli, she was too weak to subdue Declan, it took me a hell of a punch to get him from us, how did she manage it? I only said the nurse left too because I didn't actually see her leave and the thing is there was something familiar about her too? The secretary too, but I can't put my finger on it. As you say my focus has been way off the mark since coming here.\"\n\n\"I promised William I would look after you and keep you safe, he got Estelle and I back here safety, back in the country, and set us up in a nice home and with good jobs. I owe him everything, he paid for all her treatments and she lived happily for thirty happy years, twenty-eight more than she had been told she had. He gave us back our lives, and our children had their mom with them as they grew up, they both send you their love. Now we are giving back, we all got our second chances because of William, all five of us, Redwing was his brother, so it was only right to bring him here to look after you two, he insisted. William made us promise to protect you both to the death, not that we will need to die, but we would.\" I cried into his shoulder. \"Bed, your exhausted and we have a busy morning tomorrow! My Boss Lady needs her sleep.\"\n\n\"You too, the rooms are wonderful and there's loads of food in the kitchen including things for you, we had them deliver it from a kosher deli, it's in the two small top fridges, so no cross over is that alright? There's plenty of things in there for you, one of Mike's team, Joe, only eats Kosher and so they are always prepared. I'm going to rescue Jess from the Grandparent Mafia. I have a feeling they will be sleeping in her room. Goodnight Uncle Eli.\"\n\n\"Goodnight Sara sleep tight, and I like her father very much, he loves our Little Bird, and my Boss Lady. I see the ring too, we will get an invite, won't we?\"\n\n\"Yes, our family will be there, all of you. Night God bless.\" I went to the small family lounge and Nonna was holding Jess, as she was fast asleep on her lap. His mom too had fallen asleep holding her. Ben was watching, and his father smiled as I put a blanket over them, shut the curtains and we left them to their dreams. His father was making himself comfortable on the sofa, as I said they were going nowhere.\n\n\"Dad seems to think Paulo was in this with some bad people, he knew there was something wrong a month ago, the jet was used to go to Arizona. Mom wanted it to go see Donatella's crash site and it was in use, it was then Dad noticed it had been used three times in the past six months, he was watching you. The logs go back years, he has been going there as long as you have lived there. I will kill him. I swear I will.\"\n\n\"Ben, we need sleep, will your dad be alright? He looks so sad.\"\n\n\"He's happy to have Jess and you, and yet angry that Paulo has done this to his family, he's stopping in there with them. He just keeps thanking me for her, like I had much to do with it. I will be better the next time Baby, I swear.\"\n\n\"Well we need to go to bed, we need to keep trying! Boy, what a chore, it's so tiring this sex lark. I'd forgotten just how much it takes out of you.\"\n\n\"Sounds like a plan, we have had a stressful day, let's relieve some of yours.\" We went to bed...\n\nChapter 12:\n\nWaking in the morning, I did so alone and to the sound of organised chaos, there were three lorries emptying their cargo into the ballroom. I laughed at the sheer amount of stuff they were unloading. They had just brought everything filing cabinets desks and computers. Delphia was here too and as she spotted me, she ran into my arms, she remembered seeing me. Well she did nearly catch me naked on Ben's desk, so yeah, she probably remembers me, and I blush at the memory.\n\n\"Sara you're looking well for a corpse, welcome back to the land of the living and back into Leo's world. He couldn't have been happier when he found you. Your daughter is beautiful, she is his image, it must have been hard seeing her all the time and thinking he was dead. You poor girl, still you're here now and I have never seen this family as happy as they are right now. If you're wondering where she is, she's in the kitchen. Her, Marietta and Leonardo Senior, are running the cook ragged. She may be on her fourth or fifth lot of pancakes, Nonna is seeing to it her granddaughter gets what she wants. She's a credit to you. Go eat, Leo's in there too, trying to tell them she needs to breathe.\" I smiled. She certainly can make you think about things.\n\n\"Thanks, I will be back when I've been fed. The poor cook, we're killing her.\" I popped my head around the study door, I was sure I heard Ben's voice, and I did, he and his father they were deep in discussion about something, they waved me over.\n\n\"You've had a phone call Sara, and they are looking at your mother's case as murder, because she wasn't suffering from heart failure. She was being slowly poisoned by digoxin. The other body is Declan, and the nurse has disappeared, she is being looked for by the police. It seems they have various CCTV images of Paulo, in the area around your mother's apartment too. They have traced the phone calls to a now empty office, which was used as a Doctor's office. It seems this was your mothers new heart specialist. I'm sorry, but it looks like they killed your mother and your brother, I'm so sorry Sara.\" I shrugged my shoulders.\n\n\"Oh Jess, deleted the photo of the guy at the services. She thought it was taken by mistake, I didn't want to worry her, so I said it was fine. The body was Declan, good I was convinced it was Paulo on the slab, what happens now?\"\n\n\"It could be weeks before their funeral, this is turning into a farce. Good news though, they have found all of Jessica's pictures you sent. Paulo at least had the good grace to keep them and she was a beautiful baby, so cute and tiny. Your letters were heart-breaking to read, and I'm so sorry Baby. Mom is now feeding her granddaughter.\" Ben was looking disturbed, and he had good reason for the worry, after all his brother was still missing.\n\n\"There's not enough pancakes in the world for that. Can I have a word please, on our own?\" His father rose to leave the room with a big smile.\n\n\"Sorry, Sara I will try and rescue my little girl from her Nonna. We are going for a walk around the house and gardens, and yes, we are taking the fellas with us the big one is insistent.\" I agree as Ben has already said yes. We went to see Eli, we told him about Ricco, having forgotten to tell them last night. He was very interested in him.\n\n\"What does his name mean in Italian, would it be Marquis? We have on the radar, a Marquis of Neghelli, we knew he was a fraudster, the original served in the Second World War. Dying without heirs, but this man is claiming to be his son, and heir to his title? If you aim high when you're doing a con, it makes people more susceptible to believing it. Paulo has been paying him a lot of money, and for thirteen years, maybe even longer, we think possibly in blackmail pay-outs?\n\nYou put a hold on your brother's access to money, from the company a while ago, he has none of his own left and is in hock to money men. This Marquis, Sara has just bought Grandy's old Castle. He completed earlier in the week, and he now owns your place of imprisonment. I have sent two of Mikes security and Andy has gone with them to see if he can read their lips. They are going in posing as the agents to hand over spare keys, he picked some up from the estate agent the day the place became his. If he's keeping your brother hostage, it may well be there Ben?\"\n\n\"He will be in the tower Eli, get them to check that, the keys for it are in a nook, under Mother's bed. It is pink and garish. They won't be able to miss it.\"\n\n\"So it explains Paulo wanting my position too. I'm the only one who can release large amounts of money.\"\n\n\"That's not the only thing we found out Ben, we believe he may have been the one who killed your sister, or could have very well paid for their assassination, along with her husband. I found the files they thought they had deleted. Marco had found a discrepancy with the finance's way back then. There was more money coming into the company than it was making, and the difference was in fact a quite a large amount. Payments regularly going into several accounts that had nothing to do with any of your companies, it was being siphoned through your casinos in Vegas, Malawi, Atlantic City and Macao? He sent several emails to you and to Paulo and finally your father, but his emails were re-routed, and they deleted them. The last file was sent the day they died, and were sent to a Giovanni, who is that?\" Ben stumbled.\n\n\"He is my elder brother, the priest and reformed bad boy? God help us, please tell me he isn't part of this too. We always thought their deaths were suspicious, we knew their brake cables were damaged, but they weren't cut, however they could have been damaged when their car flew off the road, but we couldn't prove it. Dad, get Dad, please Sara...\"\n\n\"No, your brother never received the email, he until very recently wasn't using that email account, he only started using it about a month ago. Does he use the one as Father Vinci? I can't get into his files there are layers of encryption, even our best hacker, with my help is having trouble accessing them?\"\n\n\"He was the best computer analyst I have ever met, present company aside, he was always up to no good, he'd spend hours on them. He did the systems for the company until he joined the seminary. He put a good team in place before he left us though.\"\n\n\"We could do with him here.\"\n\n\"I will get him to come. He was last in Spain. I think he's on a retreat. Dad will know. Sara, please can you get him for me Baby. Mom is going to be hurt really hurt, please to God Giovanni isn't involved too.\"\n\n\"Sure Ben, anything to help. I will ask Jess to keep her occupied. We have hundreds of photos, well thousands for you all to see.\" I did as I was asked, and Leonardo joined them. I sat and listened, my head is thumping, and I am not getting the answers quickly enough. I may be a tad impatient?\n\n\"Right Dad, this is all stemming from the money laundering we were looking at through the casinos, the same accounts that the damned accounts department said were clean. We were clean, and nothing was wrong. Please can you check on the names of the accountants Eli, if poor Marco found it, why didn't they? We need to put a hold on the accounts for the casinos. They are going after their money and with me locking out Paulo, they are desperate.\n\nI was stupid, but I trusted my brother, he earned my trust with all the hard work he did, even after we locked horns over owning the company, he still gave me his full backing. How could I have got him all wrong? He did nothing but work, he never had a social life and was always at the office. I know why now; he was doing it without an audience and behind the firewalls at head office too. Dad, I will kill him I swear I will, he killed my sister and tried to take Jess and her mom from us too.\" Dad, he agreed.\n\n\"Right Son, phone the bank and the casinos, no authorisation of large payments or pay-outs. We need to get the authorities in to help. This is too big for us to handle alone. Paulo will pay dearly, if he is to blame for Donatella's death. I will kill him you need have no worries on that score.\"\n\n\"Ben, I can lock down all your accounts from here. I can also track all payments. It's automatically done over ten thousand pounds. They just need to pay themselves under, to fly below the securities radar, so we should set the minimum to a figure we can easily trace and then follow the money to see which accounts the payments go to?\" Eli said as he tapped the keys like a ninja.\n\n\"Do it, and we will phone the banks, allowing you legal access, just in case you get in trouble, and so it is all above board. I want nothing to stop them getting everything they deserve, or getting off on a technicality? Dad, I will kill him with my bare hands if he is behind this?\" The wheels began to turn, and as I watched Eli at work and the others. I saw the scale of the mess we were in and it was massive. The clear boards had pictures and markers connecting the dots, and it was being added to all the time.\n\n\"How had I allowed Paulo to run our casinos into such a mess, he had help, he had to have had help? Eli what else has he got his sticky mitts into, kidnapping, money laundering, ordering his sister's death, selling my child, is there anything else my brother could do to hurt us more?\"\n\n\"Possibly, we have yet to dig deeper Ben, but we are getting there. The many trips to Arizona are explained too, they wanted to open another casino on Indian land. Unfortunately, they don't like to share what's theirs with outsiders, their money and land only goes to tribe members. Apache or Navajo and their families, there have been over the past twenty years several attempts to buy the land first from Sara's mother, then her father and more recently Sara herself, but she has refused. It's a massive acreage of land, sitting on it its own water supply and a prime site for a casino. Half on reservation and half off, an ideal arrangement and uncommon, there's not a lot of lands like it.\n\nMother Sara expanded into non-reserve land for her beloved wild Mustang horses, her love of them shared with our Sara and Jess. Wow they are passionate about them, they are perfect for the land, which is no good for cattle. She is very good at land management and she will never sell. Her horses need their homes. Sorry, I'm waffling, but I'm very proud of what they have done, both my adopted daughter and granddaughter. Sorry again, I am wondering from the problem in hand. We're talking millions, Ben. She has turned down all offers made through this Marquis's company. He is in too deep to stop, he has spent millions on plans and buying the right things needed, permissions and such. He owns land just off the reservation too and he has bought as much non-Indian land as he can, which is worthless without Sara's plot. As I said, he's in too deep.\n\nYou should know Ben, that Sara has had Jess watched from a very early age. She always knew someone was watching her, she is very conscious about her, sorry your daughter's safety. She always has been, Asher he is her personal bodyguard and driver and he has been since before she was born. She is his child in his eyes, he's her other Godfather, a responsibility he takes very seriously. Sara having her here has had him so upset, the times we had to stop him flying here, and I wish I hadn't now. Her father had a heavily pregnant Sara watched too. He and Asher were there when she had their Princess. Poor Asher, Sara wouldn't let go of his hand, even when she drew blood, it was still offered to her. I still laugh as he cried when she came out. They have been inseparable since that day, and these past two weeks he's been like a bear with a sore head. As I said, they are normally inseparable.\n\nHer father defended Asher on a murder trial, and yes, he did do it. He killed a child rapist with his bare hands because the little girl was his sister, who killed herself later, unable to cope with it all. William got him off... Stupid as it sounds it was simply self-defence. The idiot came at him as he watched him, Asher never broke the law, but it spooked the guy and he just went at him with just a carving knife in a packed restaurant. Asher had no weapons, because he didn't need them. As Sara says Krav Mega is more than self-defence, it will one day, she is convinced save your daughter.\"\n\nI have so much to learn about my family. I take in a deep breath of relief, because thankfully they have been well protected and loved, pity it wasn't by me though. I then remember our conversation about moving to London to live, and the horse ranch's future.\n\n\"Both Sara and Jess have willed their share of their land and the horse sanctuary, back to the people of the tribe. They told me they were going to give it back anyway, and soon, as a gift to the tribe. It was something for the youngsters to do and keep them out of mischief and to learn all about the wild Mustangs. She does talk about them as her babies. Have they got a man on the inside of the reservation, one who would know this is what they were planning, and that it was happening soon? She made a phone call setting the wheels in motion two days ago, after I asked her to marry me.\"\n\n\"I'm looking into it, Ben its big thing to give away, with so many implications. It would still be impossible to put a casino on it with the clauses Sara has put into gifting it back to them, plus they have a big place there already and they don't need the competition, but there's nothing stopping another person building one though, as long as they were of the tribe? Her killer clauses are mainly about the re-use of the land, it's the only land that is part on reservation and part off reservation, apart from three other smaller plots there isn't any like it. I'm looking to see who owns them, perhaps Sara knows who owns them?\n\nI am waiting to see who's suddenly over the past few weeks has become a little richer. There is a family, also named Bird, who are regularly paid an amount of money. They farmed a small plot, which I was sure Mother Sara bought before her marriage to White Eagle, sorry William? Perhaps she had sold it to the family, or she could have given it to them, perhaps they had sold it already, and this was their monthly payout? It's quite a bit of money for scrub land, only fit for cattle and horses. If we find out where the payments are from, we could perhaps find out who is behind it? That perhaps will shed some light on the subject, that's the only connection I can see at the moment.\"\n\n\"The grave of the dead girl I saw thinking it was Sara's, she was called Bird, Tallulah I think Sara said? This has taken some planning and over many years, and Paulo was neck deep in it all?\"\n\n\"Sorry to confirm that for you, but yes it seems he was. Would you have stopped looking for Sara without the grave?\"\n\n\"No, I told Paulo I wanted all the teams looking for her because I had to know where she was, price was no object I needed answers. Oh God, please tell me, did I get that poor girl killed?\"\n\n\"No, it was an accident, a school trip which went tragically wrong, two others were killed too including one of the guides trying to rescue them, but I will look into it for you. It was just a mere coincidence, you knew what you needed, you had your closure and you then knew where she was. I need Sara now, we need the records from the reservation, someone's on their payroll, and if they have bought land for these people, they would have had to apply to make it an allotted trust land. She dealt with all that through the office at White River.\"\n\n\"Eli, please could you run that by me again, it sounds confusing?\"\n\n\"Ben, simply put, they own the rights to the income from it and they can build on it and keep the money they make on it and from it, so if they allow this Marquis in as a silent partner, he gets to build on it and they get an income, a large tax free income. I have a feeling this is going to hurt Sara very much as she considers them all her family.\" I went for Sara, to find she was already out with Thomas and Jess for some fresh air, Mom is fast asleep on the couch.\n\n\"Mom, come on bed you have been up all night, Mom, Mom? Asher get in here now and quickly Mom's out cold and Sara and Jess are gone, alert the security and fucking lock this place down.\" Dad with the help of my cook Maggie, were bringing Mom around with smelling salts, she is fine and remembers nothing. Dad takes her to her room, whilst we set about finding Sara and Jess. I think we have found our inside man, her trusted friend and her father's much loved friend, and brother.\n\n\"Redwing is definitely your man. He owns the two plots of land to the side of Sara's and one piece with an access road on it, one needed to get machinery in and out, why did he do it? Fuck, he did do it, he was in the office that day when she spoke to David about giving the land back. Oh hell, he knew, he already knew she was gifting it back when I brought him here, and he is going to kill her before it's gifted back. She will trust him. I brought him here Ben, I'm sorry so sorry. Why did he do it? The man was as close to her as her father was, he is Jess's Grandfather in all but name. I will kill him if he harms them. I brought him Ben, I brought him here because he said he wanted to help them. I had no reason not to trust him.\" Andy was coming into the room.\n\n\"Sir, the information you wanted on the drowning incident, the guide was Thomas Redwing's son, Tommy, he died trying to rescue Tallulah, who couldn't swim, and she dragged him under the water to his death. He perhaps blames the Birds for his death?\" Eli looks angry and I'm in major panic mode.\n\n\"We need to be quick they have half an hour head start on us.\" Asher was angry too, because he had been talked out of going by Thomas.\n\n\"We need a tracker and go figure he was the best fucking one we had.\" At last, I can help.\n\n\"I have the very man to help. The man I bought into the hawking centre with. He's a tracker, he was a detective in his hometown of Dakota, and is Sioux. He teaches classes here. He and his family live on the edge of the estate. I'll ring him and get him here to help. It seems we have a secret weapon. They won't realise they are in danger because they trust him totally. We need to find them and fast, he won't think we can track and knowing the girls they will leave clues too.\" I dialled his number. \"I only hired him because he reminded me so much of Sara, his enthusiasm for being Sioux and how proud he was to belong to a great First Nation, just like Sara was. Oh hell, he has to find them Eli, I can't lose her twice, she can't die again.\" I really want to cry, but men aren't supposed to cry. \"Kale, I need your help, my family are in danger. I need you to help me find them, please I need you?\"\n\n\"I will be with you in ten minutes, stay on the phone and talk to me until I get there.\" I explained everything and as I explained we got the rest of the party together, we left people here to guard the house and my distraught Mother and Father.\n\n\"Everyone this is Kale Smith, my friend and neighbour and one I hope has remembered how good he said he was, and how he persuaded me, I needed a tracker for the poachers.\" He smiles.\n\n\"I would remind you, that poaching is down on your land and apart from the three elders you allow to fill their bags and belly's, nobody else escapes me! Now, how long and how many?\"\n\n\"Three, Thomas Redwing an Apache Indian and a tracker, my daughter and her mother, my soon to be wife. They are well wrapped up and are unaware they are in danger, they trust him.\"\n\n\"Have you phoned the police? They will need to be informed, but for now what directions have the cameras got them going in?\"\n\n\"They went towards the woods, from there no cameras. He has a phone, but Sara's is here, Jess has hers and there is tracking on it as soon as it turns back on. I have sent her a text, but I'm not getting any indication her phone is on. She never has it off at home, so he could have turned it off or he has smashed it?\" Eli is worried, and he still is blaming himself for bringing him.\n\n\"Right, two of you drive to both of the estate exits and drive in each direction towards the old road, they could have been picked up on the old dirt road that leads off the wood.\" They do as he asks. \"Put an alert out to the small airport that barmy, ex-air-force-elder has for his model airplanes, which upset my birds. It's big enough to allow a small plane to take off and land.\" Two men do a check of that.\n\n\"Right, when I find their tracks stay behind me, then fan out, but stay behind me at all times and be vigilant.\" We follow as he leads us deep into the woods and picks up their track easily.\n\nRedwing wouldn't know we have our secret weapon, and as we near the road it is, as he fears, they were picked up in a four wheel drive, and it's heavy. There are four, perhaps five people and there was a big struggle. There is blood, and as he walks to the other side of the dirt path, he quickly picks up their trail again. Apparently, there are clues being left, there are broken twigs, leaving a clear path taken by the girls. We radio through to the security in cars to keep their eyes open, there is a car in the woods, and they may be armed. Kale dips down and presses the ground looking forward and around him.\n\n\"These two are the lighter of the party and they are running, the bigger of their shoes is limping and the other one, a much heavier male is injured, this one followed them a short while later and is bleeding. Follow me and keep behind me, the girls will be finding a hiding place, she won't be able to walk far on her ankle.\" I am now panicking and imagining all sorts, poor Asher is trying his best to keep me calm and is failing miserably. \"Shush they are near, the blood has pooled here and is fresh, the injured one has slowed down, he is hurt and badly. \"Stay here in case he comes back, you two take the sides, you two, behind me and spread out.\"\n\nWe have been out here an hour running around in the now cold wet wooded area. The rain is helping to track them and then we hear a scream and a thud of a car door. Kale sets off at a storming pace, and for a big chap Asher is keeping up. We near the opening to the old road, where a car has pulled in front of them. Sara is hurt, but the two of them are like a tag team and as they defend themselves. I wonder what my panicking was all for. They I don't think needed much help, they have floored two of them and Jess has just dropped the man going for her mother, and very easily. Asher grabs the one coming up on Sara, and I think he breaks a few ribs, my girls are indeed a pair of fighting machines. Thomas is in a heap against a tree. The last one is dropped by Kale.\n\n\"Baby are you alright? You had us worried for about a minute there, you came out without your brolly, and we were bringing you one. Fancy coming out for a quiet walk in this weather. Shit Sara you had me worried there. Are you alright?\"\n\n\"Umm, so you are still crap at the jokes Ben. I have a sore ankle, and I may have bruised my ego a little, he was manic. Redwing held Jess by the throat and was hurting her. I just leapt at him, I wasn't thinking and being a Mom kicked in, not the street fighter. He hit me once and boy he was going down. It kicked in big style, as I punched kicked and let him have it. I dropped him, and we ran, but the busted ankle was slowing us down and Jess wouldn't leave me. Damn that girl is stubborn. He put up quite a fight and I thought we'd escaped him, but as we ran, he picked himself up. He was awful, really awful, hurtful and not the man I have known all my life. Jess had to hit the man she considered her Grandfather.\"\n\nWe are taking them all back to the castle, an unconscious Thomas is thrown in the car and driven back to the estate, the other cars descend, and everyone piles in to get them home. My girls are in my arms and safe, Sara is shaking.\n\n\"Wow Dad that was awesome, Mom hurt her ankle on Thomas's face, and he was supposed to be our family Dad, why would he do it? You were quick off the mark did you get my text?\"\n\n\"No Jess, my phones in the bedroom at home charging. I'm sorry how did you realise?\" Sara had calmed down enough to speak again.\n\n\"When he said we were going to a safe place to keep us from harm, and you had authorised it. One, you said we were in the safest place, and two, Ben you wouldn't order me to do anything, not without running it by me first. As we fought, he said he was fed up of waiting to avenge Tommy's death, and us having all the money. The money that should have been his and the land we had would have been his had Sara married him and not Dad as she had promised. He hated Dad and had done all this time.\n\nHe was like a man possessed, and something was mentioned about building a casino and hotel complex on the land we owned, it's impossible, because the land is only good for livestock, wild animals and the land has water yes, but it not just mine, it runs under our property and feeds the villages wells. The water supply runs under our land, so it can't be built on ever. I would be cutting off the village's water supply, and it's not mine to do that with, I just hold it for them to use. Other than small holdings the land can't support large buildings, that's why we hadn't built on it, it's not cost effective or feasible. Now get me home my ankle is massive.\"\n\n\"Yes Baby, are you alright Jess? Thomas will be arrested and charged along with the others, what did they say?\"\n\n\"I'm fine and pumped up Dad, what are we doing tomorrow for excitement?\" Both Sara and I laugh at her.\n\n\"They were taking us to Canada, I heard one of them say you have a cabin there, perhaps Paulo's there?\"\n\n\"We will find out. I will have the police check it out. Hopefully they will have good news and he's there for me to go and kill.\" We pulled up the police were everywhere, and they took into custody the prisoners and followed us through to mission control, where we had a few new visitors. Andrea was back with Detective Peters and Constable Bulmer.\n\n\"Hello, it seems you have been busy, we were mistaken on the identification the body. I'm sorry to inform you, it is that of your brother Mr Vinci, it seems someone switched records over. The nurse, Wendy Price, is as you Americans say, singing like a canary. It seems Paulo was into some bad people for money he borrowed to pay off a blackmailer. He apparently killed or had your sister killed, and he had an Indian girl killed by a fellow Indian?\n\nHe thought he was there at your mothers flat, to get the evidence back and he had made the final payment of ten million and he thought it was all over. They drugged him, then killed him, dressed him in Declan's clothes, gave the body his wallet and personal effects, and she identified him as Declan. It was pretty easy to mistake them, they share the same build, colouring and hair type and his face was smashed in, she says Declan did it all, though we think she was the one poisoning your mother.\n\nDeclan is on the run with his accomplice, a Ricco Marchese, he may be Ricco Farggio or Rodolfo Cavalla? He thinks he's a big man in organised crime, our friends the F.B.I and Interpol have been looking for him for a while, as are the big money men he has been conning for years, those big men he worked for, his bosses? They are missing a little bit of their cash, cash that he's thought to have given himself.\n\nThey are missing millions of dollars of their money, which was easy to do because he's their accountant, or he was, up until the past week doing quite well, and the small amounts he took were never noticed. All monies stolen, were we are told by the canary, were stolen to support the dream of his to build a casino and get even with you Mr Vinci? Apparently, this has been a plan much thought out by him, so much so he has become obsessed with it, and the nurse says he extremely unstable, his personality disorder is way out of control. She seems to think he's off his medication causing him to be suffering a psychotic break. He wants you both dead, and to get his daughter back?\n\nThe nurse came in of her own free will, she was more afraid of him, choosing instead to take her chances with us. Your brother Declan and she have been intermate for years. She says since they were in school together. She also nursed Richard through several breakdowns at the castle you have. He is a delusional paranoid schizophrenic, worse when of his meds. She also knew he and your brother have pissed off some big money men. With what she knows there are arrests being made all over Europe and America and in China, the Chinese government are helping too.\" Eli interrupted them.\n\n\"Ben, they have the subjects in the castle and there are three of them, do you want them taking down?\"\n\n\"No, they need to pay for what they did, death will be too quick. Get them all out, but alive and bring them here to Detective Peters to sort, but only if it can be done with no harm to themselves, if they can't wait for backup.\"\n\n\"Sir, I would prefer you waited for back up, it's on its way as we speak?\"\n\n\"I would prefer them to just shoot the fuckers, but that's not going to happen anytime soon. Mike will be fine, and you say they stole money from the money men? They will be dead as soon as they hit a prison. It may be quicker for them to take them out.\" Too late apparently, they saw an opportunity and took it. Delphia is speaking to Mike on her phone. He's been ringing mine without success.\n\n\"Sir, they have them all, the captives are both dazed and stunned. They are saying they were there on holiday. They have found a priest in the tower too and he's been drugged but is alive. They are on their way back the prisoners are secure. The Priest is Giovanni... Leo, and he's safe but refusing to be taken to hospital, the police and paramedics are there. Detective Peters they want a word?\" He takes over the conversation and tells them to bring them to the castle for questioning, there is an incident room already set up. An officer is sent with the priest, as Mike is bringing him back. Everyone is coming back here, and this is turning into a circus. Ben looks kind of relieved, but it's not over yet, even if the canary is singing, but she doesn't know everything.\n\n\"Ben my foot is killing me. I am going to fucking kill my arse of a murdering, pond sucking, scumbag, arsehole, bastard brother, and then you can have him Detective Peters.\"\n\n\"So we have to tell Mom and Dad that Paulo is dead, are we sure it's him?\" Detective Peters gives Ben a ring and a photograph of two scars. Ben looks and sobs. It is Paulo, and I hug him. What his mother will do is anyone's guess?\n\n\"The nurse admits her part too in imprisoning you Miss Bird, she thought you recognised her at your mothers, and warned your brother as such.\"\n\n\"I didn't take much notice of her, other than noticing she was feeding the drips through too quickly, that's why I thought she was panicking.\"\n\n\"No, they had been killing her slowly for months, when the nurse listened into a conversation with her publicist, about printing her real memoirs. They panicked, stole the only copy of the book and then hastened her death. The nurse had conned your mother into thinking she would be helping her kill Declan the night she died, something you forgot to mention to me Miss Bird?\" I shake my head, after all we burnt the damming letter.\n\n\"Nope, there was no letters, sorry just the ones she had from Ben, for me.\" Liar, liar. I am a liar again!\n\n\"There was some damming stuff in it apparently? Mob bosses she had for want of a better word, been on dates with, politicians, film stars, and money men. She was paid to write the book she published, as a real account of her life and apparently, it's a big seller. But the real one would be worth millions and ruin countless people's lives, and possibly put some bad men away. Then they staged a fake suicide to hide Declan, they knew he knew too much and would be the next to be on their hit list, tying up loose ends.\n\nThey figured they wouldn't be looking for a dead man. Paulo, he's the same height, dark hair and could be easily mistaken for him. Until we got the records Miss Landers showed us, we were none the wiser, they are rechecking the x-rays again. They need the original doctor's reports, because the break isn't quite as old as it should be or something? There is a plate screwed to the bones, they are looking into, and it's from a foreign hospital too.\"\n\nWe await the arrival of the three men and the priest. I'm eager to see who they are they are. My ankle is strapped, and Jess is rerunning our fight with the bad men to Nonna and Nonno, who are just happy to have her back. Happy for the time being, laughing at her and smiling, grab the happiness folks you're in for some unhappy times. We are telling them about Paulo when Giovanni gets here, he can calm his mom as no one else can. We await their arrival as Eli keeps on checking into things, I am still going to kill Declan.\n\nThe cars pull up. None of the people they bring from the castle are known to us, they didn't even know the guy was in the tower, they didn't have a key for the tower, just the house. The men it seems were shocked, because they had rented out the place for three weeks. We await confirmation of their identification, and they are whom they say they are, realtors from America. They have no criminal records and can show proof of hire, which Eli looks into, and clarifies. They are there for hunting and fishing, they are the first of many people booked into it. It's being ran as the castle here is, almost identically in fact. Now cleared and their stories checked out, they were allowed to return to the castle. This thing is getting weirder by the minute.\n\n\"Eli, have you found anything else out?\"\n\n\"No, no nothing. I'm looking at Paulo's phone records again and he phoned this number several times before was killed. Do you recognise it Sara?\" I look and shake my head.\n\n\"No, should I?\"\n\n\"Whoever it was called the office three times before you came to England, and phoned your mobile twice whilst you have been here?\" I grab my phone and look through the logs and sure enough, the calls are there. I phone the number, and there is no reply it goes through to voicemail, the phone is switched off.\n\n\"We will have to wait for it to be turned on. How come you didn't notice the numbers before?\"\n\n\"I don't know, I am always putting my phone down, so perhaps someone else answered it? I don't know. Jess always picks it up. Get Jess in here Ben, she may be able to tell us something?\" He goes to get her. As more information comes through, Giovanni is brought in from the hospital, looking a little worse for wear, his father rushes to greet him and looks him over.\n\n\"Dad stop fussing I'm fine, now where's Mom? We have to tell her of Paulo's death?\" That throws me because we have only just been told it was Paulo, how did he know? Just then Jess comes in with Ben, the two brothers embrace. Jess comes to my side. As they take Giovanni to freshen up, to get a bath and some fresh clothes, he is too messy to hug us yet, he is embarrassed because he has soiled himself.\n\n\"Jess these phone calls, did you take them? It's just that I can't remember taking them?\"\n\n\"Yeah Mom, they were from some church, the man said he would speak to you later. He phoned again a couple of days later and asked where we were staying, whilst we were in England and would it be possible to come and see us?\" I looked at Eli, as Ben came into the room. \"I told him we were stopping at The Savoy for a few days, and seeing some sights, and to ring back later or contact you in your office. I phoned him back about ten minutes later, because I'd forgotten to give him your works number and a woman answered the phone and said it was a church, Saint Sebastian's I think?\" I um, as Ben looks shocked.\n\n\"That's Giovanni's church, why would he be calling you? What's going on?\" Eli does a check for the number Jess has on her phone, and it is for the church, so he does a check and there are plenty of calls to and from Paulo.\n\n\"Ben, how did Giovanni know Paulo was dead? We had only just found out, and he was on his way over here? I am worried now.\" Asher and a constable go for Giovanni. He needs to answer some question. He is brought down, as the madness in the ballroom is calming down, the police have left, and the guys are going to eat. At last, I get to thank Kale, and he's just glad he could be of help and as he leaves, he smiles.\n\n\"An Apache and the Sioux in Scotland, it's fast becoming a reservation. I am happy to help and if you need company we live on the edge of Leo's property, my wife Lenny runs a small bed and breakfast!\"\n\n\"How are we Indians ruling the world, and why are you here in Scotland?\" I ask.\n\n\"Lenny, she was born here, we fell in love when she came on holiday and persuade me, I'd like it here. Please, bring Jessica to the house she can hang out with the moody daughters I have. They miss America, we have only been here five years, so you'd think they would have settled by now?\" I laugh, he may be right, I don't think Jess will like it here, because it's very different. He shakes Ben's hand and heads home.\n\n\"He's nice, you were right we need to regroup our thoughts. Have the Canadian authorities been informed of the possibility your home there is being used?\" Eli interjects.\n\n\"They are sending their people out, let's not forget there's a time difference Sara?\" I forget we are dealing with quite a few time zones and are waking people up all over the place. Giovanni is brought down and in Ben's clothes, he looks so different and I have seen him before...\n\n\"Cary Underwood, it's nice to see you again, why the disguise? Why were you following me? Ben this is the man who has been following me.\"\n\n\"Why Giovanni, why were you following my family?\" He is staring lovingly at me as he did that night, as he walked me to the car.\n\n\"Sit please all of you, this is a story that started years ago. I only got involved about a month ago, when our idiot brother got in way above his stupid neck, when you locked him out of the bank accounts Leo. I thought I had escaped from all this crap years ago, but the stupid idiot dragged me back in. I wanted to come and see you with what I had found out Leo, but I needed to see how you would be implicated in it all.\n\nYou're the only one who has ever kept his hands clean and who has been hurt the most Leo, I had to protect you. He came and told me everything just four weeks ago. Please sit. Jessica go and sit with Nonna please, she will need to be relaxed later, and you do that for her. She's beautiful, Sara, Leo.\" I nod, and she goes. Ben sees them in and comes back. Detective Peters wants the conversation taped, which Giovanni readily agrees too. We all sit comfortably, and Eli is running through the records and is still finding things, as is Andy. Ben's man Joe has just phoned to say Massie is fine, and do we need him here? Ben asks that he stop where he is, they need to speak to Hamish as soon as possible.\n\n\"Paulo had screwed up, big time and he needed some help and wondered if my old connections could help, did I still have the codes for the company and a way to get to your money Leo. I refused and ordered him to tell me everything. He said your girls were in danger, that he couldn't look after them anymore, he couldn't afford it or to piss a certain person off. He never wanted them dead, just away from Leo and his money. He knew there was a mole in the office, but not who, he had nobody else to trust.\n\nHe panicked because Ricco phoned unexpectedly and asked did Leo know he had a kid, and was he having the girls followed? Ricco had two people in his office a woman called Bella, who heard Paulo on the phone to me. I told him not to worry I was now watching the girls and they were on their way to England, and that I was watching them, unfortunately Ricco had men watching her too.\n\nThere was also a boy called Louie, who works in accounts apparently, who told Ricco, that Paulo couldn't access the casino accounts as he could before. They were feeding all the information back to Ricco, go figure he didn't trust Paulo? I am good with computers too and was able to track the information that had been sent from the offices to Ricco. What Ricco forgets is who taught him the things he knows, and thankfully I had put in a backdoor into all he did, and I know all the names he uses officer.\" He passes Eli a stick drive with the information he has, including the entire list of known aliases. Bulmer sits with them and makes notes, and they send the information to the various people involved, including the FBI and Interpol.\n\n\"I always knew he was a little unhinged and I needed to cover myself in case he did what I knew he was more than capable of. I'm only surprised it's taken this long to come to a head. He was and is Declan's half-brother, Sara. He'd inducted himself into Declan's world to get to know him in boarding school. Declan's world included Paulo by this time, and they all three came to spend the summers at the villa for three years or so, before you and Leo met Sara. Ricco watched as I worked, and I was a little high one day, I was busy hacking into the various company bank accounts, just to get funds to travel a little, with friends.\n\nDad had said no, and that I had to earn the money. If I needed to travel, then I had to work for it. I though wanted to party, not bloody work. That was Leo's calling not mine, mine was computer hacking and the ever-growing new frontiers of the internet. He watched what I was doing, and I was too buzzed to care, and we talked. I showed him what to do, he was already good, but with me teaching him, he was better. I'm ashamed to say he and I had a liaison, for want of a better word.\n\nI'd say he used me, but he didn't, I enjoyed it too. Paolo knew nothing other than we hung out doing nerd stuff, which is what he thought we were doing. Until a month ago, I never thought, nor did I ever think my family were at risk with the things I had told him. Ricco told me he only wanted revenge on his father, not my family too. I promise I knew nothing about his hurting the family. I was convinced it was just his father he hated, and he it seemed liked his idiot brother Declan?\n\nI found out things on all Declan's family though, as they were indirectly involved in Declan's father's life, through Declan, information on the old Duchess, your information too Sara, all about your mother and through you, your father William White Eagle Bird, I revealed to him all I had found out. The strange thing about all this is, you hadn't even met Leo at this time Sara, nor had he met you, but I knew Ricco was a little strange. He was ill, and he had a massive hate thing going on for his father. He then told me who he was, and that he wanted revenge on his father, he'd never been accepted by him as his son.\n\nDeclan yes, but never him. He was brought up in care, not by nice people either from what I found out. He was desperate for revenge, but in a strange way, he wanted to belong to a family. He plays on your weak spots, and he's good at what he does. I was weak and helped him find a way in, with his father, I showed him ways of impressing him, showed him how the internet was the way to launder money for his bosses. Dummy accounts, what amounts to take and where and when was the best time to pay in sums of money, and how much, much of it they would already know, but I invented a backdoor security code. It could piggy back any debit or credit card and allow it to be used as a clean way of transferring smallish cent and penny amounts, and he went to see his father armed with the new information.\n\nThey met, and it seems the apple didn't fall too far from the tree, he is as bad as his father is. He had cast iron identification it seems you pick up legitimate names and birthdates in care. He still didn't tell him he was his son. He then told Declan who he was, and they came up with a plan to bring down their father. Silly boys, they then went to see your mother, she had things on her ex-lover and Declan knew where she kept the things hidden at the castle, the one she loaned from you Sara?\n\nIt was then he fell for the girl in the photos and his obsession with you started that was the summer before you met Leo. He didn't need me anymore, and I was now getting my head straight and as far as I was aware, they were all three, still best buddies and nothing more? The last summer you were involved with Leo, was when Paulo then realised Ricco's crush was his own brother's girlfriend and his best friend's sister, they laughed a lot at that, Paulo and Declan? You two knew nothing about them being friends for years. They relished rubbing his nose in your romance and he was not happy.\n\nRicco losing out to Leo was something he took to heart. I do remember they cut the holiday short too. After long talks with my priest, I found my true calling was at the hands of God, but I had a past and Ricco said if I helped him, he wouldn't tell the church about my fondness for male company. I hasten to add, Ricco was above the age of consent, he was just passing himself off as a much younger person. I like men, not boys or children, just in case you're wondering officer.\n\nHe asked me to find him a proper job, so I did with our company. I got him a legitimate job at head office, he needed to become more organized, a proper job, one with regular wages and a place to live. His father was insistent, or he said he would have nothing more to do with him, he had one idiot son, he didn't need another, he had told his father who he was, but his father knew already and was waiting for him to come clean. To be accepted by him as an heir and second son, he had to do it all legitimately, and as Richard March, which was his given name at birth.\n\nSo he worked in accounts. I thought he had become organized and official, naive of me I know, but he has this way of convincing you it is so. Unluckily for you Sara and Leo, it was where he spotted you together, one afternoon in your office being overly fond with each other? Sara had already knocked him back. I believe he had enrolled into your University to be near you and it was the best course available, also paid for by his father, to get him legitimate qualifications, his father wanted to go straight.\n\nHe tried with Declan too, but he hung off your mother's coat tails and Declan, he didn't need the money like Ricco did, Ricco didn't know Paulo was being blackmailed by Declan, his mother wasn't giving him a penny, she said she had none. Ricco wanted I think, to keep in sweet with his father, he still had plans concerning his fall from grace, but now those revenge plans included you and Sara, Leo. Ricco was still obsessed with her, Leo he hated you, I mean really hated you, and you Sara, well, he was angry.\n\nHe said all you were interested with was money, and power and he would have it too and you would love him not Leo. I wasn't involved with him again after I found him the job at head office and as that was my last summer with the company too, I didn't give it, or Ricco any more thought. I had found my true calling. I was accepted into the seminary. I had all my university degrees and I wasn't married, I had abstained from relationships, the last one was Ricco two years before, so I was away from the whole thing.\" Ben was looking at his brother in disbelief.\n\n\"So, at Donatella's funeral you knew what Paulo was involved in and said nothing? Giovanni what were you thinking of not saying anything? Did you not think he could have had something to do with it, Dad mentioned that Marco was friends with dodgy people, you could have said it was Paulo, not Marco, you do know they are buried apart because Dad was convinced because Donatella had died, and it was Marco who had as good as killed his beloved daughter?\"\n\n\"No Paulo wasn't involved, he told me he wasn't, and I believed him at the time, as far as I was aware, they were just boarding school friends. Paulo started working for the company at the same time you fell for each other, he was kept in the dark about Ricco working for us. He didn't know him as Richard Marsh, just Ricco Marquise. I was the one Ricco had used, not Paulo. I only found all this shit out when he, Paulo told me everything a month ago. It took him two days to tell me everything. I'm only giving you the condensed version. He has files too they are hidden somewhere. I haven't been able to find them either, and yes I have looked for them.\n\nHe said they were his insurance policy, they didn't do him much good, and he wasn't such a forward thinker or planner wasn't our little brother. I put all that behind me when I found God, and I thought it was all behind me too, until Paulo got me involved again. So, that's our past explained briefly, now to begin with the time from Paulo's first contact with me in years... The first thing I did was set about making sure Sara and your daughter were kept safe. I needed to see if she was your daughter, because Paulo was convinced she wasn't. Ricco told him she was his. Was he a fool, don't answer that, it was a rhetorical question, she's Donatella's double.\" I sobbed and said it wasn't even a possibility then fell backwards in my chair, to be calmed and shushed by both Ben and Giovanni.\n\n\"So, I had some people follow them to keep them safe all the way from Arizona to Richmond, down the coast for sightseeing, back here to London, and then you took over, it seems you found out about your daughter too and I pulled them off watching her. Unfortunately, one of my team, pulled from security at the firm, was on Ricco's payroll, he told them of their every move. I didn't know I had put them in more danger. I am sorry I thought I was looking out for them, my family.\n\nI knew your team were good, so I had no concerns leaving them. I had lost Paulo though; the little shit gave me the slip. My need to protect them was greater than watching his arse. I followed the girls thinking he would be following them, but no it was just me, two of your men Leo and two of Ricco's men, they were getting close inside the theatre, you'd let Jess go to the toilet on her own. I allowed you Sara, to see me. You were a little jumpy, but more on the ball. I made sure she saw me at the restaurant, and on her walk home to the car, once she was safely to her car, I met up with the chap I had helping me, who told me there was police activity at Sara's mothers flat.\n\nHe had asked about and the neighbours told him the woman had died along with her son. I jumped in as Father Vinci saying I was the family's priest, nobody argues with a priest in a dog collar, besides I have all the proper paperwork and your men let me in Detective Peters and all above board too. It was at that point, I saw the ring I realised it wasn't Declan, I looked at the face it was a mess swollen and not easy recognisable, but his scar was there the one he got from the time you Leo, threw him from the balcony at the villa and he hit his head and broke his leg.\n\nI wanted to scoop him in my arms, but I prayed for his soul and blessed him, anointed his body and went in search of his killers. I was livid, and still am. I forgot I was a priest. I wanted to find and kill my brother's killer, so I went back to the apartment and went looking for Ricco and Declan. The Marquis had recently bought your castle Sara, for a small fortune, and had allowed three men to stay there. They worked for the supposed Marquis as fake realtors and they each had sold it to quite a lot of gullible Americans, between them they have sold the castle between four and six times each already and taken very hefty deposits off them, and he's only had it a week.\n\nHe will claim ignorance saying the castle isn't up for sale and keep it, it's called a short con, a lot of money comes in quickly. The title is obviously a fake, but there is very little on the internet about this Marquis's personal life, so Richard stepped in as the new Marquis, so the making of the con is all the more believable with a title. Americans are too gullible where titles are concerned, especially the air heads the realtors targeted, rich bored housewives, they were buying a castle from a Marquis after all, so it had to be for real right?\n\nI set off to see if it was Ricco and Declan, I went to see if the girls were safe and as I did, I saw they were packing and then I tailed the girls up here. I saw that they were safely here, and you arrived a little later, so I knew they would be safe. I then went on to the see if they were in the castle. I spotted the three men and didn't recognise any of them, so hung around it was then I went to the tower having seen a flash of light in the room at the top, it was then I got clumsy.\n\nI was heading up the stairs and got whacked on the head from behind and locked in the damned tower with no way of getting out, they had duct taped me to a chair and drugged me. I have been there since God knows when, I would say about two days? The fellas didn't hear my bangs against the floor, it seems it was sound proofed my prison cell. Nobody had been to see me and as you saw I was rather filthy, so now you know. I need to help find him. I did find out a lot about Ricco's business dealings between the three of them, I can help with that?\" Detective Peters agrees the more people working on it the quicker we will find him. Giovanni talks to Eli.\n\n\"Paulo had told Ricco about Marco getting too close, he had found out about the money laundering and Ricco arranged for their accident. He had been blackmailing Paulo into laundering money, he knew of his addiction problems, and his part in the death our sister. Our brother Paulo had a problem with white powder and gambling, and he was in a mess. He was supplying your brother Declan for years, Declan was blackmailing him too, but for cash and drugs. His father gave him some information on Paulo that he had about the getting rid of Donatella and her husband? He used it well and all too often, and so over the years Declan has drained him dry, he was taking money from the 'clean money accounts. If we look at those account's he may still be using it?\" Eli taps away.\n\n\"No nothing in this account, there's another in the Grand Cayman, we need your expertise Andy. Detective Peters, you may want to go for a drink of tea or something, you too Bulmer.\"\n\n\"Consider us drinking tea right now, continue. How did they know they had been rumbled?\"\n\n\"Right, I will tell you how I found out, off the record, and I will not tell you or give you any other information I deem you do not to need to know?\" He agreed, and the recorders were stopped. \"I planted a bug in the flat, well several actually. I happened to be in the church around the corner from the flat of your mother Sara, it seems she found God in her last few months. I was actually calling on an old friend, as he was the new parish priest, when he got a call to see a Mrs Kullberg, from her secretary. She said she needed to confess her sins, and be given the last rites, but unfortunately, he was busy with another person, so I offered to go.\n\nI swear it was an act of God, I wasn't meant to be going, but it was too good an opportunity to miss. Yes, I just happened to have the stuff in my car, I stocked up when Paulo came to see me. We were going to bug the flat anyway. I cannot and will not be able to tell you of her confession, only that they were all written down and to be in her new revised book, the one I believe they think they stole, but that too was a dummy. There is a copy, but nobody knows where it is? She told nobody, not even the secretary.\n\nI think Declan is intending to blackmail people with the copy he has and if he does, he's a fool. It will get him killed, as your mother, she hoped he would. She was unsure of her nurse in the last few days and dropped into a telephone conversation, the existence of the second fake book and sure enough, after the conversation the nurse phoned Declan.\" I laugh this is becoming a bloody espionage tale of epic proportions and all this was going on, and nobody had a clue? I am for a better word flummoxed by it all.\n\n\"Ricco knew of course that Declan was still friends with Paulo, and they went to see Mother Kullberg, in doing so they were hoping to catch Declan, but he wasn't there. However, the nurse was, and imagine his surprise to find out it was an old friend from a way back in their past, so she told him what he asked, she was too afraid not to. She was to have given him your child Sara, he seemed to think it was his, delusions I know.\n\nShe didn't want to let him down again, he nearly killed her for letting you escape the last time. He told her she would pay her well for her silence and that when Declan returned, she was to give him a call. He left, but on his way out he made a call, he wanted them both out of the way, as they had been loose cannons for far too long, the nurse too was to be killed. She was in love with Declan, so told him all about the visit telling them they had to get out and that the ten million was enough. Declan was too greedy he wanted your mother's book too.\n\nOnce they drugged her, she told them where it was, in her living room bookshelf hidden in a photograph album. She also said to her nurse mistaking her for you perhaps Sara. To use it wisely, Declan would kill for that information, and minutes later he did he injected her as she slept, laughing as he did it.\" I cried as he told me, and Ben swept me into his arms. I really cried for my mother, she had been killed because of the life she led, and in the end her worst mistake killed her, for the knowledge of all her other mistakes. Karma really was a kick arsed bitch.\n\n\"Declan must have swept the flat too, he found my devices so after that I was in the dark. I tried to find Paulo, but the little idiot had, as I said, given me the slip. I can only assume from the dead body, they already had him drugged up in the other bedroom and killed him. When I went to do her last confession, it was the only room I couldn't get into the nurse's room. They must have finished him off after Ricco's visit, because when I went to the flat to see if he was there, the flat was awash with police by the time I got there. Then the neighbour as I said assumed it was the actress and her son Declan, and I only assumed it to be true, not that they had committed suicide, but that Ricco had had them killed and made it look like suicide, as he had said in the conversation, he was clearing away his loose ends.\n\nHe had to keep Paulo alive though, he was the man dealing with the casinos, and unfortunately Brother Dear, your locking Paulo out of the system, caused him the problems that made him come and see me, you closed down his access to big money. Then your Brother Sara, he did the stupid thing and killed Paulo. Ricco's men were following you too, you were I think going to be snatched and used to get to get his money back, but I don't think he would have stopped at just your fortune, I think he wanted you both dead. He had found a way into get the land he needed, and the casino money he needed, he was so mad for revenge he isn't thinking straight.\n\nLeo had enough money for him never to have needed another thing in his life, and he would not have had to work every again, there is enough to live out his life in sheer luxury, but he's mad. Really mad, there's a lot of information on his late mother, she was a paranoid schizophrenic, and I don't think the lad missed that apple either. They spotted me and were following me, I was too busy trying to sort this mess out to make sure I wasn't being followed, and well I was abducted and shut in the bloody tower. The thing is they said Paulo was dead and Declan was out there pretending to be dead. How the hell they knew, I don't know. I was the only one who spotted it was Paulo and told no one, they were waiting for Ricco to come and get the information from me, they had another brother to get it for them?\" Eli listened in.\n\n\"Perhaps Redwing tipped them off?\" I shouted to Eli.\n\n\"No, he was out kidnapping you. When Andrea came back with Detective Peters and Constable Bulmer and told you.\" He looked around putting his finger to his lips and then to his ears, he signed to me and to Andy, he told everyone to keep talking.\n\n\"Right enough for now we all need to eat and get something to drink the pair of them will still be out there, they don't know we know all this, so will be holed up somewhere. We are all tired and hungry and we need to regroup our thoughts and come back with fresh eyes and ears. Yes?\"\n\n\"You're right Miss Bird, we won't get anywhere unless we eat and drink, this will still be here in ten minutes.\"\n\n\"Good thinking besides Detective Peters, I think we have to rescue Jess from Mom, Giovanni you need to be introduced to Jessica too.\" Eli and the others swept the room and he was right we were being listened too, and the bugs were everywhere, in the dining room, the library and just everywhere. Eli cleared the games room and we all went in there, leaving Andrea and Asher in the ballroom moving around and making a noise.\n\n\"Right, I can block the signal that's not a problem, but whoever is listening will know we are on to them, we can find out from the bugs the distance they need to be to hear the conversation and circle out and find them. We can feed them misinformation too. We can even set a trap to catch them, what do you think?\"\n\n\"It will only be the lackeys we catch, the same as the ones in the car earlier. I can get Kale to round up some men and find them give them the coordinates they wouldn't think anything off it. If we were all still in here talking and keeping it real, and they will just look like a party out hunting. Bring them in, so their boss doesn't know we have whoever they are in our custody, and then we set a trap to catch the boss, either its Declan or its Ricco?\"\n\n\"Good idea are the men going to be safe?\" Giovanni asks and Ben laughs.\n\n\"Kale is the best man for the job, and he knows what he is doing, I need a secure phone. Eli are the phones bugged?\" I sigh again, technology has been allowed to advance too quickly, and into the realms of science fiction!\n\nNow anyone with the correct software can find whomever they want, they can clone a phone, they can hack into your computers. When all this is over, we are going to live on the ranch, with no phones, computers or anything, because this had been an eye-opening revelation for me. All I bloody wanted was to show Jess where I was born and where Ben and I fell in love. Gheeze, this is a nightmare and all because of Ricco and my bloody mother and brother... Good job I didn't tell anyone I had the true copy of the book in my case upstairs, there is definitely some bedtime reading to be done.\n\nEli finds the range of the listening devices, its five hundred meters, they are on the property, so the trackers will have to be looking for a car parked within the grounds. Two people have been out and checked the outbuildings, the bugs have a limited battery time on them too. I know we had until two days ago people coming and going. Now no one was getting in here Eli reckons at most, the devices have a day of listening time left. I go and help cook rustle up food, bless her she has been run ragged, she is tired and grumpy.\n\nI tell her to go to bed with a cup of tea and stay there until she feels like getting back up, I insist. She does and as I carry the things through, the rabble are helping themselves. We are now on misdirection's and I go to talk to Ben and his family in the now clean family lounge, this has Jess all excited and high, Mom is confused and me? I want to sleep for a week, it's been the craziest day of my life. Shit, I was in a tower for months, that was crazy, but this is something straight from a spy film.\n\n\"Mom, we are going to Italy for the summer you're getting married at Nonna and Nonna's villa and Uncle Giovanni is marrying you, isn't that cool?\" I smile as I look at her\n\n\"Way cool Little Bird, way cool. I think Jessica Jay it's time for bed, Nonna is stopping in your room and Nonno is in the room right next door, you all have had a busy day. Your dad and I, we will come up with Uncle Giovanni in a while. Do you want Dad to tuck you in, it seems he likes doing it, now that he can?\"\n\n\"Nah, I will be fine Dad, besides Nonna will beat you to it.\" They all disappear to their rooms, leaving Giovanni and I to talk.\n\n\"Did my mother suffer, when they killed her? Please be honest with me you listened as they did it.\"\n\n\"No, she was already asleep, they just pumped it in through the iv drip, she wouldn't have felt anything. Paulo though he would have really suffered, I am thankful I wasn't able to listen, I wish I hadn't gone back to the mews thinking he was still there. If I'd have stopped there, I would have been able to save him.\"\n\n\"It's pointless blaming yourself, you didn't make him do as he did, he and my brother were damaged, and all because of their years of drug use and you couldn't stop them from using. God knows Declan had enough tries to kick it, they were just unable to give it up. They had addictive personalities, I have one too for Rocky Road ice cream and English chocolate, it's less dangerous it seems. Can I ask you, when you first found out about me, why did you not just think to tell Ben, he found out about me by seeing Jess at his gym?\"\n\n\"I know, I was outside when he went in, I was following you did you forget? I was so sure he would see you. When he came out of the gym, he threw up, got in his car, and cried really cried. I so wanted to comfort him, but you were being watched, so I couldn't make my presence known. As soon as he got to his office, or even in his car I would imagine, he put his team straight on it, because Big Mike and the boys were watching you.\n\nAll within less than twenty minutes of him leaving the gym, so I knew you would be safe. He was so upset that summer and for months after you disappeared, he cried for weeks. He flew back from America though a much changed man, heartless and cold. He hasn't had anyone in his life who meant anything to him, Mom was so worried for him, he has always needed someone to love in his life and the months he spent with you were the happiest I have ever seen him, and I see it in him again, more so with Jessica. You are happy no?\"\n\n\"I can't tell you how happy I was seeing him again, I was angry at him for so long, for dying and leaving me, but not for too long because I had Jessica, and she brought him back to me, so he never really left me, he though had nobody and that makes me sad. To think we could have been happy and together, but for our brothers and Richard, he was the one settling their debts for my baby? That I can't believe. One cheek kiss ruined my life and he thought Jess was his?\" Giovanni held me tightly.\n\n\"Let it go Sara, there's no doubt she's a Vinci. She has my sister in her to keep her safe, she is beautiful and has made Leo a very happy man, especially as she comes attached with the only woman he has ever loved.\" I cry a little more.\n\n\"We will try to make it up to him. I promise Giovanni.\" Ben came back with news they had two men and a van in their custody. Kale had found them.\n\n\"He has earned my share of the Hawking Centre today, what do you think Sara?\"\n\n\"If you want, it's up to you, do you need the income?\" He laughed and agreed he didn't.\n\n\"Well come on let's see if you know them Giovanni?\" We went to the ballroom they were being man handled into the room when we got there.\n\nI didn't know them, neither did Ben and Giovanni said they were the ones who were following me. They refused to talk. Detective Peters even turned a blind eye whilst Asher tried to persuade them. It was useless, they were more afraid of their boss than Asher, it wasn't Declan then? They were taken away, the police cells in Glasgow were filling up nicely as the three con men realtors had now joined them. The bugs are all disabled and are in a plastic bag and in the outside freezer of all places.\n\n\"We have found something Sara. Your Grandmother had a property in Ireland, did you go there much?\"\n\n\"No, never she had a bad time there, that's where William died, so she never went back why?\"\n\n\"The powers been on for the past two months and the telephone line has been reactivated, any chance Declan knew about that?\"\n\n\"Yes, Mom did a film out there one time, before I was born. She always bragged about it too, it's in the damn farce of a book too. It's in Coachford, near Cork. I'd forgotten I owned it as I have never ever been. It's about ten kilometres from the airport, I think. Grandy had an offer on it, years ago, but refused to sell it. She wanted it to fall into disrepair and fall down. Apparently, it was what did her William in? I think it's were Mom may have been born too, she was Irish, but then again, she had four birth certificates that I know of, the ages were all different. She seemed to get younger on each one. I never asked about it either. I had too many places to see without adding that to the list, besides she hated the place and I mean hated it.\"\n\n\"It belonged to Williams's younger brother and sister. I see William inherited on their death, two weeks after your mother's birth. Then it passed to your grandmother, the title then passed to your brother five months ago?\"\n\n\"No, it's mine, as is the cottage in Wales, and the cottage in the woods near Paris, oh shit and the chalet in Switzerland, as I said I have houses everywhere, all being sold. I don't need the houses or the responsibility that comes with them. The bastard, he must have forged my signature and transferred the deeds to himself. The fucking little shit is that where he is then?\"\n\n\"Yes, I would think so, he will be unaware you know about it, considering you had forgotten about it. Would that be safe to say?\" I nod, how can you own property and forget you have it? Bugger, I need to streamline my properties, and fast.\n\n\"Do you have any sway in Cork, Detective Peters, or do we have to go through the process of arrest and await transfer to London? We can get him and fly him straight to London?\" Eli asks?\n\n\"Strictly speaking he's in an EU country we have extradition treaties within all EU countries, I could go ask for the Gardaí to help arrest him, take custody, and bring him back. Can you do it quickly and quietly?\" I laugh.\n\n\"Andrea is going with them, so hell yes.\" I smile as Andrea sees my face.\n\n\"Do it and straight back to London. Bulmer go with them just in case. Got your passport?\" He nods. He takes the micky, because he'd told Bulmer he needed it get into Scotland, he only needs to show his warrant card at the airport, poor man I'm sure the warrant card is valid in Ireland too?\n\n\"See you back to London and keep us informed.\"\n\n\"The jets waiting and good luck, do you need Mike?\"\n\n\"Yes please, I will just take Mike and Bulmer, I will get us in. I don't suppose you have a key?\"\n\n\"I doubt the bloody doors are even still on, it's been over thirty-five years since Mom did the film there, and nearly sixty years since Grandy went there. She must have been heavily pregnant with Mom back then?\" Ben hugs me tightly.\n\n\"Keep yourself safe and keep in touch. Right you lot, securities changed on the doors, get some sleep I have a feeling it's going to be a long night again.\" They do as they are asked and grab some sleep whilst they can. Me, I am nearly asleep on my feet, and my ankle is sore now too.\n\n\"Sleep, I need it Ben, and lots of it.\" He laughed.\n\n\"Just sleep? It seems a long time since we had some quality time together Baby.\"\n\n\"I swear you have one thing on your mind Leonardo Benito Vinci, do you ever stop?\"\n\n\"Sometimes, when you're asleep, even then I get the urge to wake you.\" We grab a not so quick shower and spend the night doing the usual bedroom Olympics, when I eventually fall asleep, it's soundly, and I don't hear him get up. I am awoken with a kiss and good news they have Declan in London. The Royal Canadian Mounties have had no luck at the hunting lodge, it hasn't been used in months. Oh my, the world didn't stop working whilst I slept.\n\n\"We will work on finding Ricco today. Baby you are safe and here with me. Jess is safe, oh hell I love you.\" I murmur my thanks into his kisses.\n\n\"I love you more, now I'm awake and in need of your body again, what say you get that cute arse in this bed?\"\n\n\"Oh hell, yes...\"\n\nChapter 13:\n\nWe went down to breakfast, the whole team had regrouped and slept well, Declan wouldn't tell them anything and he was keeping silent. I watched as the team got down to it again.\n\n\"This would all be easier if we knew what was in the book, Declan didn't have it on him, and Giovanni cannot divulge the secret of the confessional, he let us know more than he should have by telling us she had written it all down.\" I looked at Jess, who nodded, then I dashed to my room and I pulled out the manuscript and took it to Eli.\n\n\"I wanted to read it first, there's stuff in there that is personal to me, I don't care about the dirt she had on people, and I just wanted to read about the family stuff. Sorry for not giving it you yesterday, good job I didn't, they could have fed Richard, Ricco, or Ricco whatever name he's going by, the information.\"\n\n\"Never mind we have it now Sara, it will be fine. Detective Peters is heading back to London. The jet is waiting to take him back, what's in here stays between us, the book is yours to do as you will with.\" Defective Peters had his bag and was saying goodbye.\n\n\"I will keep Eli informed as to anything we find out you'll do the same. I really should take the book with me, but my superiors think Declan has the only copy, so I will keep quiet for now, thank you Mr Vinci, Miss Bird, it's been an interesting couple of days. I will see you soon and hopefully you will be able to bury your families soon.\" I look at Ben. My brother killed his brother, and he must hate me? I know his mother is being told today, so we will have to brace ourselves for the fallout from that.\n\n\"We would love it if you and your family came to stop here again, come and be the guest of the castle at any time, my home is your home.\"\n\n\"Thank you I will keep you to that, now I need to get to London and interview Mr Kullberg and let him know we have another copy of the book, it may loosen his tongue a little, especially when I share what I know, and that his copy is another fake! It may persuade him to talk?\" I go to see to Jess. She is eating in the kitchen and is helping herself to pancakes. The breakfast of champions, I am actually starving too. I graze the breakfast buffet and sit and eat with her and Nonna, I listen in as she talks and smiles, this will be different later when she knows her son is dead, and my brother did it. Ben came back into the dining room and grabs himself breakfast.\n\n\"I worked up an appetite Sara, we need to eat, it seems we forgot yesterday, how's the ankle Baby?\"\n\n\"Fine, my prides more dented. I trusted him like no other, he held all that hate inside for so long, he killed and stole for what? Money? Had he asked, I would have given him more. He was resentful to the girl who killed his son, why, when he was there to kill her anyway. She just grabbed him for safety and in doing so, he died too and what for, just to cover my disappearance?\n\nShe must have been so afraid, when she died Ben? She was as young as Jess when they did it.\" I was held, as I sobbed for the poor girl. \"I will give them their property back, as its mine anyway. Bloody Declan signs my name better than he signs his own. I know it's not going to bring her back, but hell I need to sort out my affairs and quickly. When is enough, enough Ben? I am giving most of mine away. The property sales can all go to the Mustang charity. I have enough to last a lifetime, as does Jess. You too need to trim down, and I want you in my life a lot longer and without all the stress too.\" Ben laughed.\n\n\"Dad said the same thing this morning, we are downsizing, and we have had a good offer in for the hotels and the casinos. Vinci Enterprises, however, we are keeping. I still need to work, but instead of buying companies, then splitting them up and selling them off for profit, I am going to help them get back on their feet and resurrect them instead, as you say we have enough money. We need to give back. Once, a very opinionated girl I fell in love, with told me that. I forgot all about her wise wisdom for a while, so I'm doing my best to give back from now on.\" Eli comes in for breakfast.\n\n\"Sara, can I speak in private?\" I smile.\n\n\"We have no secrets Uncle Eli. Ben needs to hear everything too.\"\n\n\"As you wish Boss Lady, this is hard and very personal, but the book starts from the day your Grandmother gave birth to her in Ireland... Well, Grandy was her aunt, not her mother. It seems her mother was William's sister and, her father his brother, your mother was born out of an incestuous relationship. William and Jessica were there at the insistence of his brother, Faulkner, her mother was called Bridey. She had apparently died during your mother's horrific childbirth, she too was apparently mad as a March Hare, and he didn't want the baby because it too would be like its mother, she was damaged. I might add Sara I would be mad as a hatter if I too was raped and by her own brother too, then kept locked in the house day after day, all whilst being raped and tortured daily.\n\nThe incestuous relationship, rape or imprisonment Sara, I find it horrendous which ever words are used, and I only used relationship, because she herself was told, that was what it was. The things Faulkner made his sister endure, it all started when Faulkner went a little mad with rage when he saw her cavorting with a doctor at a works function. She was dragged out kicking and screaming and was never allowed back to work. She was a very good junior doctor from the records I have found, but he put paid to her furthering her career by impregnating her, she had no mental issues Sara, not being a good Doctor she had test after test.\n\nHe locked her away until she gave birth and was as you were, when you came to us in Arizona, a mess and lonely, but far from mad. She was sane enough to write Grandy a long letter asking her to look after her baby and another letter asking them to send for William, she had hoped they would both come before the baby was born, but alas, they arrived too late, and were told the birth had killed her. The staff after her death, sent an urgent telegraph to London, telling William he needed to come and sort out his brother and quickly, he was mad. They were worried about his nieces' health and safety.\n\nThey went to sort it all out and were going to bring back their niece Daniella to be raised as their own, as Bridey had requested. Unfortunately, Faulkner was racked with guilt at forcing himself upon his own sister, he confessed all to William and well...\" Eli gulped as he watched me. \"Faulkner, he committed suicide, after he handed the child over in that house in Ireland, all watched by William, he was unable to stop him. The whole thing caused him to have a massive heart attack, and he too died minutes later, here are the news cuttings from the time.\" He handed them over. I cried again. I was in shock too.\n\n\"It seems Grandy had no other choice but to raise your mother as her own. Your mother Daniella was clueless about it all. She finally found out everything, when she stopped at the house. She'd stopped there for a film she made, just before your birth. The place she wrote was like a time capsule, locked up, as it was the day she left with Grandy. She explored and found all her father Faulkner's papers, as well as Bridey's diaries. She liked to write too and kept a well documented log of what he did and when, everything was documented in her diaries, which your mother found when she stopped there. She found out everything all about her dubious parentage and her subsequent adoption by your Grandy, and also that they had left her quite wealthy. She however, never forgave Grandy for lying to her.\" I know that I oh-ed because I had a strong arm around me.\n\n\"Grandy wasn't my grandmother? She was my great-aunt?\" He nodded.\n\n\"Your mother wasn't lying about giving her to your grandmother to be raised as her own, she knew she would only fail if she did. She was giving you to her mother, because she didn't want a damaged baby, she'd read up on it and thought you would be deformed, or brain damaged. She was convinced you would be a bad seed born from incest, she was also drunk and on drugs and continued using them until Grandy rescued you. Your mother was selling you, when Grandy stepped forward and said she wanted you, and the deal was done.\n\nWhen the papers were signed it was under the strict instructions, you were never to be told, that your grandmother had bought you and become your legal guardian, she also made it clear if your father tried to claim you, she would take you back, she wanted her mother to fail with you as she had with her, but Grandy proved she wasn't at fault, she raised you well and loved you more than she loved anyone, you were hers, and hers alone. Her free spirited, beautiful girl with beauty and brains. It annoyed your mother that Grandy wasn't to blame for her mental deficiency, that was all her own doing.\" I collapsed in a heap on the floor, crying.\n\n\"Baby please shush, Grandy loved you, imagine who your mother could have sold you to? I for one am very thankful she did step in. Jess and I thank her too, without her doing that we wouldn't have you.\" I oh-ed again and was awash with tears. God how and why was my life getting even more confusion thrown at it?\n\n\"Your mother was a very messed up young lady, the things in this book could ruin many, many people, some deserve it others don't, people she slept with to gain favours for her then boyfriend Alfredo Milinero, he used her to entertain men, to gain things to blackmail them with. He was when he was alive a much feared man.\" I sobbed again.\n\n\"Was he Declan and Richards's father?\"\n\n\"No, that was the head of a big family in Sicily. Stefano 'The Black Angel' Marcelo, he too was to be feared, she told The Angel, what Alfredo has planning, and he dealt with him. She goes into graphic detail about how he killed him with his bare hands and watched as they dismembered his body, she knows where all the bodies are hidden, literally. There is a two page list of things he will spend a lifetime in prison for doing, and authorising.\n\nAs will his right-hand man and his eldest son, Stefano Junior. He, Richard and Declan are the only boys he has left, two others were killed in hits, and one is brain damaged after racing his car off the road in Italy, the family is I believe, very like the actual Godfather films. Such a disappointment to him they are. He had hoped they would go straight, but they are both mentally disturbed, seems they both inherited those genes from their mothers.\"\n\nI can't believe the family I indirectly belong to. What must Ben think of me? I don't have to ask he is killing me with the death hugs. Jessica has escaped her Nonna's clutches and comes laughing into the room. I smile as she looks at me, her eyes bright and that smile, she is my family, she and Ben.\n\n\"Mom I'm so bored, I need to get out of this place Asher says he will take me shopping. Please can we go, please Mom, Dad pleaseeeeee?\"\n\n\"Jess, I will take you, your mom needs some rest, I'm sure Nonna will be up for some shopping too? Please don't worry Sara we will take security with us and Asher.\" I laugh as Asher gives me the eye. I know that look, he hates shopping with Jess.\n\n\"That would be nice, get something for Hamish and his family, and take a trip to the hospital too.\" My phone goes off and I answer it, and as I listen, I signal to Eli. I place it on speaker, so everyone can hear it.\n\n\"Hello Sara, it's been a long time. We really have to meet up some time and soon. I do hope you have enjoyed the fifteen years you had with our daughter, there won't be many more. I think this game has played out far too long now. Give my regards to the would be new father of my child. I will be seeing you soon Sara.\"\n\n\"Richard, is that you? What are you playing at, why have you done all this? Just because I said no, all those years ago. Jessica is Ben's child. I have yet to know of a cheek kiss, making a girl have an eighteen month pregnancy. Why are you being like this, you need help, come in and get it Richard, stop this now, people have been hurt and have died. What for because you didn't get what you wanted that night?\"\n\n\"No, because you chose him and not me, he will pay, he has lost you once, and he will lose you again. Enjoy your time together it's going to be over soon Sara, so very soon au revoir. I really miss our conversations. Your friends have all been too posh, too rich, and are brainless truffle munching, Champagne swilling morons. Now had you studied with me things would have been so very different. Were my gifts never good enough? Did they not cost enough? Was I not rich enough? Pity too because I am now rich beyond my wildest dreams, and I have the book too and Declan will not speak.\n\nFather says he will see to it, no matter what money lover boy has, I have the connections, my father was thankful for the book, so thankful he is making me he is heir. So now I have everything, wealth, power and I will have my revenge on you. Declan isn't safe not even in Scotland Yard, and neither are you. Bye Babes see you soon, you know where to find me, don't leave me in the wilderness too long, if you want to save the lovely Leo from dying too, you know where to meet me.\" He put the phone down.\n\n\"He wasn't on long enough. Sorry Sara.\" I needed clarity, my head was swimming and it ached. It was decided to let Jess go shopping with her father and Nonna. Security are going too, I just wanted to get my head around the madness of the last few days and now the phone call, this all can't be because I said no? Grabbing the book from Eli, I decided I needed to see what my mother had got Jess and I messed up with, who were the next crazy Italian's coming into our lives? Were we in more danger and who else had she pissed off? I needed information on the stranger I had for a mother.\n\nI watched as the convoy headed out. Was this going to be Jess's world from now on, being kept a virtual prisoner? I settled in with a cup of tea and wrapped in a blanket. My security on the prowl, why though? He couldn't swoop in and grab me, not from the roof anyway. I read the book and if I hadn't known it was about my mother, I would have sworn it was a film plot, literally. The things about Grandy were there in black and white and a shock. I knew Grandy had her reasons, I'm sure she loved me, there wasn't a day I didn't feel her love. She didn't fail me, she made me who I am, strong and independent, thank you Grandy.\n\nThen as I read, I read of the places where Sal, and she would meet, a house in Soho, their love pad? I read the book cover to cover, and as I read, I was more shocked at the things she did and her reasons. I was glad I had nothing to do with mother now, she was all sorts of messed up. I put the book down, as the light was fading, and just as the parade was returning. I made my tired way back down the castle steps, to be greeted by Jess with more bags and boxes than I had ever seen before.\n\n\"Did you leave them anything else to sell Jessica Jay?\"\n\n\"Mom it was great, we went in every shop in Edinburgh, we saw the castle. I have a load of cool photos and Asher has a kilt, but Dad said no. I have new clothes and a cool coat. I really had such a fun day thanks for letting me go Mom, did you have fun?\" I ummed...\n\n\"Sort of, I'm glad you had fun Little Bird, go and unpack I need to speak to your dad and Uncle Eli.\"\n\n\"Cool Mom see you at dinner.\" I went to find Ben, Eli, Leonardo and Giovanni.\n\n\"Hi, any leads?\"\n\n\"We have narrowed it down to Paris or London, Declan was surprised to hear there was another copy of the book and is now singing, as his little nurse did the other day. He is being watched because they took the threat seriously.\" I fill them in on the book.\n\n\"Declan's father and of course Richards too, had a home in Soho, it was where he took all his mistresses apparently, that's worth a look-see.\" I gave the address to Eli, who was sharing with Scotland Yard and Detective Peters, they all looked tired and they had found more aliases and one of them was booked on a flight to Mexico, another on a flight to Venezuela, another to Costa Rica and one to Russia.\n\n\"Chances are he isn't on any flight. I doubt he is in England either...\" I ummed as I tried to get my head around the book and then it hit me, he was in my home, in Paris. The conversation we had, and I remembered his cutting remarks as he said goodbye.\n\n\"I know where he is, I know he's in La Ville Du Bois. I have a smallish, cabin in the woods there, called 'La Petite, de région sauvage maison,' or in English, 'The little wilderness home.' I went to it the weekend after he made a pass at me, to get away from his constant need to be near me and to get a little space. I went with some others just to study. I said to the others we were being watched, but as we studied, we drank champagne and ate only the good food, which Graham and his girlfriend had brought from Harrods.\n\nBobbie and his boyfriend had food delivered from a really posh food store in Paris and more supplies, we all went there in Travis's Rolls Royce too. Shit, no wonder he thought I was money mad. What with the posh friends I was studying with? They were the only ones who didn't have jobs and were the only ones who could come. Hell, he really did follow me there and watched me? I was pursued relentlessly after that weekend. I'd have deliveries of flowers and I was sent Champagne, truffles, good food from Harrods, dresses from Dior, shoes from Prada. Oh my God, how could he have been so stupid? I thanked him for helping me with a project with one kiss to the cheek, and all this is because of that?\"\n\n\"Where is the cottage Sara?\"\n\n\"It's between the Route de Montlhéry and Rue Léon Chartier, Saulxles Chartreux, it's off the road to Orleans. Turn right after the big farm on the road, the one with the water tower and greenhouses, it was painted green way back then? Then take the first turning on the right, and its approximately half a kilometre down the dirt path, or you can come in off the shallow stream to the back of the property, there is a quieter track to the rear of the property, but slightly longer to walk down. It's used a lot by horses, I used to ride down it. It's set back in the woods and the cottage is hidden from the road. I think he wants me to go, I can lure him out?\" Eli looks just as shocked as Asher does, but not as mad as Ben and Leonardo.\n\n\"What no. No way am I putting you in danger. We will send in the best to get to him, I already have a team standing by Sara. I have called in a few favours and the least said the better.\" Uncle Eli was shouting at me.\n\n\"This could be our only chance, what if he isn't there what if he's watching us here? I think it's too convenient that he told me where he was, this could be a setup, to kill me?\"\n\n\"Sara, I have a woman who from a distance would easily pass as you, she's the same build and complexion, throw on a blonde wig and she could be you. She is Mossad and highly trained Boss Lady, they all are. They are just awaiting instructions, they are going to hit both the Soho house and the Paris cottage at the same time, along with Ben's place in Paris.\" I nod approval, as if I have any say in this soap opera, I call my life?\n\n\"It will take them an hour to get to their positions from Paris. So now we wait.\" I needed to eat, and I go to the kitchen closely followed by Ben.\n\n\"I have too many properties. Grandy liked to buy homes that were quirky and out of the way, the cottage was where she honeymooned with William, it's a hunting lodge, oh hell, it has cellars and a tunnel leading to a barn off the property. I should have told Eli. I am so fed up of all this. This has been almost the worst couple of days in my life. Ben, build be a house with a twenty-foot wall around it, with woods and a stream, land for my horses, and it needs to be safe for us to raise our daughter in?\"\n\n\"Your wish is my command, where do you want it here Arizona, Italy, where?\"\n\n\"Anywhere as long as were together and Jess is safe. I don't care.\"\n\n\"We won't have to build it if we move to Italy. You have just described our new home. They are finishing it off as we speak. Mom and Dad's place wasn't safe, it was far too open. We would have to share it with them though?\" I laugh as he comes in for a cuddle.\n\n\"We will have to look at it then, I know one little girl who will be happy, she misses her Grandfather so much and Grandy too, they were like two peas in a pod after all. Your place, it sounds perfect. Come on we need food, I have a good feeling about tonight, are you up for bedroom Olympics?\"\n\n\"I think that's a distinct possibility, seeing as I need the exercise. We are being watched.\" I snuggle into his neck.\n\n\"She's getting used to seeing us together now, I think she only mildly blushes when you kiss me now Ben.\" He leans in and takes me in his arms, lifting me to his lips as he does.\n\n\"Well, let's join her and my parents for dinner then, I believe Mom saw the perfect wedding dress for you today. Jess talked her out of buying it though, saying you knew the very dress you wanted?\" I know I'm blushing.\n\n\"I do yes, like all little girls I planned my perfect wedding a long time ago. But I think the Cinderella theme wouldn't suit me now. I am after all quite old and past it.\"\n\n\"Past it, old, who the hell are you and where's Sara? My fiancée is not old nor is she past it. She is however getting her dream wedding.\"\n\n\"I know your mom wants big and an all singing all dancing affair, I just want small family and intimate?\"\n\n\"Me too, you me Jess, is that too small?\"\n\n\"Yes, I think we would kill your poor Mom, Uncle Eli would kill me, and Jess wants a posh frock. Enough wedding talk we need food and our all-night Olympics, you need building up Mr Vinci.\"\n\n\"Mom, Dad... I still think that's so cool saying Dad. I don't suppose we can go hunting tomorrow, or can we?\" I looked at Ben and then at Asher, they both were shaking their heads.\n\n\"Correct we can't Little Bird, there is still a very bad man out there, and he has to be caught first. We will be going back to London in two or three days and hopefully, we will be able to come back when we have been to see our new house in Italy.\"\n\n\"Italy, we are living in Italy, yeah so awesome and all year? Do we get to go back to the ranch? Can we still keep Grandys house? This place too?\"\n\n\"I can't see why not, Dad and I are downsizing, and upsizing on the main house, because Nonna and Nonno will be living with us and Asher. Uncle Eli too if he wants to, but he likes it in Tucson, he may just come for holidays?\"\n\n\"Asher has agreed. Cool this day gets better.\" Asher is death hugged.\n\n\"Sorry, wherever we go Asher goes too, he lives with us in Tucson, and in White River. I should have said?\"\n\n\"He's Jess's shadow father, and why would I not agree? Jess says he's her best friend, next to you he is.\" We sit down to eat, and everyone is eating in silence. The past few days have been long and exhausting for everyone. Come to London see a few sights, not be in someone's sights. Do some hunting and not be the hunted. I then laugh. I know it's aloud because everyone is looking. I was going to Italy, now I'm doing an Italian. I'm going stir crazy stuck in here.\n\n\"Something make you laugh Baby?\" I ummm back at Ben.\n\n\"I wouldn't mind riding, even if it is only over the jumps in the back paddock. I haven't been out of the place in what seems like forever. Jess can join me and it's still in view of the stable block and Asher and Mike can watch us?\" Poor Mike smiles, he has been here there and everywhere and has just got back from London, having been in Ireland too.\n\n\"I think we can do that. Kale and his girls are due for their ride out, they can join you?\"\n\n\"You mean Kale can watch me and Jess from horse back?\"\n\n\"Am I that obvious? I'm sorry, we just need to see what happens in the house raids, hopefully it will be over and done with later.\" We continue eating and I am then asked by Marietta about the wedding. I listen as she tells me of her plans, smiling at her as she talks, and talks joined by Jess. There's a commotion in the ballroom and as we rush in Eli is smiling.\n\n\"They have him, but Kiara was shot on her approach to the house, he wasn't fooled into thinking it was you and tried to make his escape by the river and was captured, he was shot in the process and injured. His father and brother were in the house at Soho, and he too has been arrested. Declan is a much hated man at the moment. They are all on the way to Scotland yard.\"\n\n\"Kiara, is she alright please tell me she is? That would be too much if she isn't.\"\n\n\"Body armour, she has a bruised rib and is as mad as hell she allowed him to draw his weapon first, but no she is fine Sara.\" I know I am sobbing now as Jess is hugging the life out of me.\n\n\"Mom does all this mean that we can carry on as normal now?\" I shrug my shoulders.\n\n\"I guess so? I think we will still need security for a while, Declan's Father will not be happy, but I would think the recriminations will be against Declan not us, but you never can tell.\"\n\n\"We will pack up and head back to London, Detective Peters wants all this Intel down there. We will take it there and spend a few days with you then head back home Boss Lady?\"\n\n\"Well you are, but only after you attend a family function. We are getting married and as soon as we can, if these past few days have taught me anything it's that you have to grab whatever happiness you can, whilst you can.\"\n\n\"The quickest way is to fly to Vegas, but Baby, the nicest way will be at the villa at home, or if you want to, we could get married in White River and do the whole ceremony there? I may have been looking at places in my spare time.\"\n\n\"Italy sounds like the best place, romantic and personal, though the quickie in Vegas sounds like fun, but no Ben Italy at the villa, seeing as we're going there anyway.\"\n\n\"Right, we have to get this lot to London, Delphia will work her magic, and we now have to tell Mom about Paulo, Dad is insistent. You and Jess get some rest we will be up later?\"\n\n\"She is going to hate me, after this Ben. I don't want her to hate me, should I not be there with you?\"\n\n\"She won't hate you, none of this was your fault, none of it.\" I cried into his shoulder, yet again I'm doing that an awful lot lately.\n\n\"Dad, I'm going to sit with Nonna, she's not stupid, she asked where Paulo was the other day, and she knows something is wrong. She also knows more English than she lets on too, and I know she heard a phone conversation between Eli and that detective guy. She did the cross on her chest thing. She has been doing the prayers with her rosary beads for the past two days. She doesn't think I see her, but she has been crying too, so I think we should all be there, Mom included. Dad's right you did nothing wrong, besides she thinks your wonder woman for giving her me. She wants a grandson though, and please don't tell me you're working on it, too much information dear parents.\"\n\n\"It seems our wise Daughter has spoken, come on let's get this over with.\" We went to the family lounge and joined the three of them. Marietta held her arms open for Jess and smothered her with kisses, as the worst half an hour of my life began, she as Jess said, knew something was wrong, but she had no comprehension of the scale of Paulo's involvement, crying, screaming, hugging, shouting, but the hitting herself was too much for me. I leapt to her side and held her tightly.\n\n\"Never say it was you, it wasn't! You have four children and the other three are and were wonderful people, you didn't do this Mom. No, he did this, please Jessica is here, I am here, we are safe, Jessica loves her Nonna, and I need you too.\" After yet more tears she was carried to her room in need of sleep, we all needed sleep and less stress.\n\n\"Bed for my girl's, Dad and Giovanni have gone to their rooms, you two are tired too.\"\n\n\"Can you come and tuck me in Dad and tell me again what our new home is like?\" I laughed, gave her a kiss and went to our room, running a hot bath and pouring in a whole load of bubble mix. Ben came in looking stressed. He sat and watched me.\n\n\"Our Daughter has you wrapped around her little finger Ben and don't you know it.\"\n\n\"Umm she does, as does her Mom, the only thing is I get to do some wicked things with my fingers with her Mom. I need a bath too, move over.\" I watched as my man stripped, to join me in the tub.\n\n\"I wonder if it is really all over, this tangled web of intrigue and mystery?\"\n\n\"For tonight it is, and hopefully in a few days it will be over for good and behind us. Then we get to settle down to normal life. Do you remember when we thought our lives were confusing at Grandys? Arranging our schedules to fit in with everyone, a time when Grandy was all we had to worry about. Where Grandy was off travelling to this time and not forgetting, the age old question...\"\n\n\"...How long was she going for this time? Yes, they were the happiest time of my life, waiting for you to come in from work, with that killer smile and your insatiable appetite for sex. I remember it very well, we did make a lot of memories.\" I giggled as he washed me, kissing the back of my neck.\n\n\"I remember getting a cold and you being the best nurse you be, the cuddles, the back rubs, the soup you made me, the sex was good in sweating out the cold, which was one of your better ideas. I love you so much Sara so, so much and I have from the minute you sent me flying on my backside in Kew.\"\n\n\"We have to show Jess our tree, it's been a few years since I last saw it.\"\n\n\"I take my lunch in there a lot. When it rains, I sit in the palm house, I had happy memories in there.\"\n\n\"I did too, I was swept off my feet literally with a wonderful kiss. I knew then I'd lost my heart to the stranger kissing me.\" He kissed the back of my neck as he climbed in the tub.\n\n\"I remember it too, I followed you like a lapdog into the warmth, were you knocked me off my feet again.\"\n\n\"Umm, I remember it well, so too the night after. I remember that night very well...\"\n\nChapter 14:\n\nWe woke to far less boxes and very few of the office supplies, file cabinets and removal men were seen emptying the ballroom. Delphia was in full sergeant major mode and my team were packed and ready for the plane. Eli came in to give me my itinerary for the day and update me.\n\n\"Good morning Sara, we are ready and have been booked into the Savoy by Ben, apparently, it's the hotel to stop in. Redwing has been shipped back to Arizona, he has been charged with assisting his son in the murder of Tallulah Bird, and the land he illegally bought is being seized back on your behalf. Declan signed your name to fake papers giving him power to act on your behalf, he was desperate to kill you here. He knew you would know you hadn't signed the paperwork, with you dead it would all be his. What do you want to do?\"\n\n\"I don't know? As much as I love him, he did some unforgivable things, he will be dealt with and he has only himself to blame. I want the land gifting back as soon as possible, for use as a Mustang sanctuary. The funds will be in trust to keep the horses safe and add to their numbers. I will buy the land he stole at either side for more acreage for them. We will keep the ranch house and have another built as a school and office. Cane and his family need to be living on the ranch too, so they can move into the ranch house it's bigger than the one he has now, and we can stop in a hotel when we go, or perhaps in my favourite uncle's house? You though, have you made up your mind, about coming to live with Jess and I in Italy?\"\n\n\"Etan is coming home he wouldn't be happy because he's moved back to be near me, and Alia is due to have her first baby. Russ's posting in Germany is finished soon, they should be coming back if we can find them a house nearby. We can come for holidays Boss Lady. I knew this day would come, but I had always hoped it wouldn't, but your family is here now.\"\n\n\"Alia can have my house in Tucson, its four bedrooms has a backyard and near to her Daddy. Etan can take my place in the firm, he is after all my big brother, if that's alright?\"\n\n\"Sara, are you sure? She loves your house and Etan was going to ask to buy into the practice.\"\n\n\"No, he gets to be in it as the lead attorney, the others get a share too, their buy in will pay for Etan and you a bigger home? Consider it yours. I can't give my sister something and not my brother, can I? I will sign it over to her, so that's sorted. I can't thank you enough for all you have done for Jess and me...\" Ben came in looking so relaxed, more than he has done in a week.\n\n\"I can never thank you enough either, it's been wonderful getting to know you all, my daughter and her mother, have been well looked after, now the cars are waiting to take us to the airport. Mom and Dad have Jess and her bags and yours are in my car. We are having some alone time and driving back. Jess insists, and she says Asher is with her she just needs the keys to Grandys, we are all stopping there, and we have the room?\"\n\n\"Oh, we are, are we? Eli keep an eye on her, we will be back later, here are the keys and the rooms are all made up. Just run through the house before you let them in, check for bugs, cameras and stuff. I'm more paranoid than ever now.\"\n\n\"Will do Boss Lady, we still get to stop at the Savoy, right?\" I laugh.\n\n\"Yes, Asher and Mike will be at Grandy's, they will be looking after Jess and her grandparents. We will see you later.\" Waving them off, we watched as Jess was already giving Asher his orders poor man. \"We will see you later Little Bird.\"\n\n\"No, we will see you tomorrow. Dad and you are having some quality time together. I will be fine. I have lord knows how many minders and you need to chill a little Mom.\"\n\n\"Fine, I will see you sometime tomorrow and Asher, watch her.\" We waved them off and I watched as the car pulled away, I wanted to chase after the car, but was being held in place by Ben.\n\n\"Your car awaits you, your ladyship and for a surprise... We are camping in the Lake District. Well when I say camping, I really mean stopping in a nice hotel, I'm too old to camp in the wet.\"\n\n\"We could always keep warm in the back of the car. I think that's where Jess was conceived, in the back of the yellow banana wagon Ben.\" He laughed.\n\n\"I had sort of wondered we were overly careful except the once. I didn't have any more protection as I recall Baby, we had a really good weekend and we'd used it all. We were on our way home, and we didn't stock up. Thank the lord for small miracles, well for Jess anyway.\"\n\n\"I'm so glad we took the bug, and to think you said nothing good would come of going in it. Your Ferrari was a little too flash for there. Do you still have it?\"\n\n\"No, I ran it into a tree trying to avoid a bloody deer, it got a little bashed, along with the idiot driving it. Baby, we need to be going.\"\n\nOur bags are thrown in the back seat and as we drove to the quiet country hideaway, which Ben had booked, a journey that was spent in near silence, the touches and looks were more than enough, but as we got to the cottage, we changed our minds simultaneously. We both agreed that we needed to see Jess. I wanted to go home. After Ben agreed he missed Jess too, we stopped off for a drink and food in a pub by the banks of the river, before going back home. Ben wanted to be reacquainted with our old room too. We ordered our food and wine, then sat at a table.\n\n\"Ben you've been quiet what's the matter? Are you still worried?\"\n\n\"Yes, it all seems like too much to take in, all this havoc and chaos in our lives. These past few days have been really strange, and I can't help but think it's not all over for some strange reason?\" I drink my wine and look into his eyes.\n\n\"I know it's all surreal a nightmare and a dream all tangled together, Ben this isn't over, by a long way and I don't want Jess to live in a bubble of security, like you did when you did a simple shopping trip. She has had Asher follow her all her life, him she's used to, but all the others? Are they really necessary?\" Ben's phone rings as he is about to reply to my question.\n\n\"Hello Leo, how can I help you?\" He smiles shakes his finger over his mouth and signals he needs five minutes.\n\nI nod and watch as he walks along the quay, he turns and smiles waves and as he looks around, I hear a car backfire and as I turn to look back at Ben, he is slumped on the ground. There are a series of loud screams and people are running around, as I run towards Ben, I hear the sound of shots ringing past my ears. I feel a red hot piercing sensation in my shoulder, it feels like a bomb has gone off and it sends me backwards against the cold grass bank of the river. I hear the screams again, as I look at my hands, they are covered in my blood, and the screams I'm now hearing are my own.\n\nThe commotion is all around me, and it is sheer madness. I can still hear people screaming. I am now silent as I stare at my hands and I hear my name being called over and over again. The commotion becomes a dull hum of activity. I see a figure hovering over me, and I hear her telling me to be calm, and I hear her as she says to stay still, she says she is looking after her granddaughter. I am dying, because I see and hear Grandy. I hear sirens and car doors slamming too. I look to my side Ben is covered in blood, and as I reach for him, the pain is too much, and I black out, after seeing Ben lay motionlessly on the ground, and dead at my side.\n\n\"She's coming around, Doctor, she's coming around help her.\" My eyes open and I see Jess sat at my side, I see a nurse, I see people, my head aches and I have a sense of numbness about me.\n\n\"Jess... Jess is that you, where am I? Your Dad was shot, oh hell I was shot too, I feel sick...\" I know I throw up, as I hurt my shoulder as I turned to avoid hitting Jess with the mess. \"Mother-Fucker that hurts...\" The nurse clears around me.\n\n\"Oh, Mommy you had me so worried, you kept talking to Grandy, asking her to help. Are you in much pain?\"\n\n\"No Little Bird, I don't think so, I just feel really strange. What happened, the last thing I remember is drinking wine with your dad by the river and the shots and the blood, there was lots of blood?\" She cries, and I feel like throwing up again.\n\n\"You were shot by Richard Marsh, the man they captured in France, wasn't him, he was in a hotel down the road from Borrodale. He had been the whole time. He was shot by an armed response team. He had you and Dad pinned down at the river for ages, he was taken out by a marksman from the police. He is definitely dead now, or I would be killing him.\" I oh-ed, okay, I think, I mean I'm here, Jess is here, Ben, where is Ben...\n\n\"Your Dad is he... Is he... Dead, Jess please tell me is he dead?\"\n\n\"No Mom, he was hit pretty bad, he lost a lot of blood and hasn't come around yet, you have been out of it for three days too. Uncle Eli is here, as is Asher, Nonna and Nonno are with Dad, he's over there can you see him? He's in a coma because he was shot in the head Mom, he's lucky to be alive.\" I sob as I sit up, there are tubes and machines, and my arm is bloody sore, as I see Eli come in.\n\n\"Boss Lady, you really can't be let out on your own, how are you doing?\"\n\n\"Fine, just tell me how they fucked up? How did they think they had Richard? Who did they have, if not him?\"\n\n\"Hold on to your hat, they had Paulo. The dead man on the slab was just another body. It was quite a shock for Leonardo's father too, he went to identify the body he thought was Paulo, and though he had scars and the ring was his, it wasn't Paulo after all. This lad's arm had been broken at some point and was pinned, they dug out the plate and identified him, he was a lad that worked in accounts a lad called Louie, one on Ricco's payroll?\n\nHe was then asked to identify Richard too, as there were no photos of him, and because they had seen him at the villa for those few summers. He went with Giovanni and to say they were shocked was an understatement. Richard/Ricco was his son and their brother, Paulo. Richard had told Paulo that the house in France, it was a safe house, and one that nobody knew about. He also told Declan to stop in Ireland, Richard needed to make sure we were following false leads, which we did, he left the two of them to get caught, and take the blame for everything. When he saw us leaving the castle, he followed you two and took his opportunity when it came along, he heard you say you wanted to get back home to London that night Sara.\"\n\n\"How, when I only said that when we reached the cabin we were supposed to be stopping in, that I wanted to go for a drink, something to eat and head home because we were both worried for Jess's safety.\"\n\n\"He bugged the car and your luggage, at some point he has been that close to you, he must have changed his appearance as we have old photos of him, and it wasn't him. He was posing as a member of Mikes security team, he was Joe. I sat hours talking to him about you as we ate and prepared food, he prayed with me everything, and he was good. He had me fooled. He was glad to be assigned to the hospital. He knew they would discover Giovanni in the tower, he thought Giovanni would see the real Ricco. He had a room at a guest house, where he was listening to the feeds, when he finished his shifts at the castle and hospital.\n\nHe phoned you from the guest house, he was here all the time. He knew as we all pulled out you had no security. He followed the tracker on your car and listened into your talk as you drove, he has it all taped, it was in his car along with everything you had done and sorry to say everything, including one in your bedroom Boss Lady, sorry he'd swept the room because we trusted him. He knew where you were heading and planned to kill you in the cabin and burn it down, your changing the plans when you got there, meant he had to improvise, he lured Ben away from you with a phone call and shot him first.\n\nHe liked to hear his own voice too, he has hours upon hours of tapes detailing everything from the first time he saw you picture at the castle, and everything in between. Richard/Ricco and now the agent known as Joe, was dedicated to making you both pay. He knew you would be hard to get to at Richmond, because you said you didn't want a big security detail, just Mike and Asher, cutting him out of the security detail panicked him. He improvised, he didn't have a lot of time left, so he was sloppy. He was on the other side of the river taking shots at you from the bridge, he could have escaped with the damage that he had already caused, but you were still moving and because of the quick thinking actions of a stranger, a woman who was just passing by, she pulled the car up between you and him.\n\nAs he took the time to move, the armed response team were there, he shouted he wasn't being taken alive and you needed to be dead too, he thought Ben was, and then he fired shots at them. They were given the order shoot to kill. That woman saved both you and Ben, and then she simply disappeared. The car wasn't hers, she just broke the window, released the handbrake, and waited until the police got there, and in the commotion, she disappeared into the crowd. You have a guardian angel Boss Lady.\"\n\n\"Who was she, was she the woman stood over me? Oh hell, what's the matter with Ben? Is he going to be alright? Jess says he's in a coma?\"\n\n\"He lost a lot of blood and the head shot was lucky, it didn't go in too deep and though it looks bad, it isn't. Yes, he's in a coma and they say he could be in a while and there is a possibility he won't wake at all, not if the swelling does not start to go down soon, so be prepared Sara and be strong. He was also shot in the leg, the arm and the chest, Richard was a crap shot.\"\n\n\"I had the guns in the car, did he use ours?\"\n\n\"No, all yours are accounted for, as are Bens. Get some rest, and we will see you later. Little Bird needs a wash and change of clothes, she hasn't been away from your bedside.\"\n\n\"No, I wanna stop, I need to be here when Dad wakes?\"\n\n\"Jessica, that isn't happening anytime soon and Nonna won't go home if you stop, please Bambino, go home take your Nonna with you, for Nonno?\"\n\n\"Umm alright, but we come back when we have had dinner and changed, agreed?\" Asher comes for her, kissing my head as he does.\n\n\"I knew you should have had security with you, you listen to me in the future, I am not ready to lose another family member just yet and I am praying for Ben.\" Asher holds on to Mom, because neither she nor Jess wants to leave.\n\n\"See to it she's safe, that they both are please Asher, and thank you.\" They leave as Leonardo sits on my bed and pats the back of my hand. I just stare at Ben hooked up to machines and gadgets, he just looks asleep.\n\n\"Sara, you need to get your rest Leo will not be awake for days, not until the swelling goes down. The police will be in to question you later. You didn't stand much of a chance according to the witnesses, he just fired until you both fell. I hope he rots in hell. Do you need anything Delphia, is on the end of the phone, Jessica bought you both night garments and toiletries?\"\n\n\"No, I just want to spend time with Ben, thank you. You need to go and get some sleep, food, and a change of clothes too, come back tomorrow. All of you I'm not leaving him.\"\n\n\"I am rather tired. These past three days have been hectic, and I would say the last two weeks have me in sore need of a long relaxing holiday. I will go home with your permission to Grandy's, it is a beautiful home you have, and Jessica loves it so.\" I smile as he pats my hand again. \"Right Michael has an around the clock guard on your door, it's a private hospital, and we have men at all exits, we are not taking chances with your lives.\"\n\n\"Please go home, I will be fine. I will get them to ring if anything happens.\" He does so, and as the nurse removes the lines and the drips from me, I am able, all be it very slowly, to sit by Ben's bedside.\n\n\"Ben I'm so sorry this is all my doing, your hurt because of me.\" I held his hand and spoke to him, the Doctor said he could hear me, and he explained that he could awake from the coma on his own. Leonardo was right, he also told me if we were lucky, and he stressed the word if, he again stressed this was not going to be a quick fix. It could be days, weeks or months and in some cases, people did not awaken from their coma's, and I need to prepare the family for that eventuality. That although the majority of coma's, generally do not last for more than a few weeks. A patient whose state does not change, after a long period, is often reclassified as being in a persistent vegetative state.\n\nUnfortunately, those in a persistent vegetative state for over twelve months rarely wake up, they had explained everything to his parents, but they hadn't taken the news well. I wanted him to wake, though I was really glad he didn't die, even if he slept forever, he was here, selfish I know, but he was not dead. I will not let him die, we have just found him, and I will not have him die twice, I won't let him.\n\nI sat by his bedside and read him books and the newspaper, day after day, the rest come and go. I spend the odd hour or two with Jess and then we are back to dad watch, as Jess says. She's only just got to know him again and sits patiently at his bedside. He had another operation to close the hole left from them removing a piece of his skull, and his skull is replaced. The operation was a success, the bullet hadn't done any permanent damage as far as they were aware, it was just a matter of our waiting for him to wake. Apparently, the brain is a complex and individual thing and no two people are the same.\n\nI had weeks of recovery ahead of me and Jess went to Italy to finish her dads house off with Nonna and the rest of her entourage, everywhere she went, the pack did surely follow. I went to the bank to get the papers from Grandy's box, it was filled with letters from her beloved William, my letters to her including the ones from me forged by Declan, he was good. There was a gift for Jess every year until her twenty-first birthday, which was so sweet of her and a letter for me. I closed the box and handed in the keys, whilst I was there the manager came up to me.\n\n\"Miss Sara Bird? Can you come with me? I have a package for you.\"\n\n\"Really from whom?\"\n\n\"We were asked that once you opened your grandmother's box, to give you a package we have been holding a while, so can you please come to the security office?\" I oh-ed, and I went to his rooms and gave him everything he needed to prove who I was.\n\nI took the package to the hospital with me, I am confused and shocked yet again. My life is still full of surprises it seems... I got to the hospital room and smiled, he looked like he was just asleep, and after kissing his head, I settled in for the afternoon. The envelope from my mystery friend, was in fact all Paulo's missing files he must have forgotten he had stashed them, and who he had wanted to pick them up. He couldn't ring from the prison, as he was on lockdown and security was tight.\n\nHis solicitor worked for Dad, so divulged everything, against the rules it may be, but he knew who was paying his expensive bill. I glanced through, and everything was there in black and white. Giovanni came for his visit and I gave them to him, because I wanted nothing to do with it. He stopped for a while as he prayed for Leo at his bedside, he kissed my head and disappeared, he was still very mysterious my new brother, but every day he was there, morning, noon and night.\n\nNext my letter from Grandy, she told me everything, including her admitting she bought me. My mother had told Alfredo I was his, blood tests later confirmed I wasn't, and he laughed as Grandy approached him saying he highly doubted it, he'd had a vasectomy after his boys were born. I was the product of a fling with the lawyer the film company hired. So Grandy found out who my father was for me, by approaching the films lawyers and he flew in the day after and knew instantly I was his. I was tested, and he was tested, and we were related. I sighed Ben was right, imagine being brought up by Alfredo? I shiver and put the letter away. The new nurse is wonderful, and she sees I am crying and tenderly wipes away my tears. We sit and drink tea, her cure all medicine, everything is fine with a good cup of tea apparently?\n\n\"We are teaching you to change the patient's tubes and things are we, not Madam?\" I nod\n\n\"Yes Bridget, please call me Sara, Madam sounds so formal. I want to be able to do it when we take him home, I don't like others caring for him. Am I wrong wanting to do it all for him? He has died once on me he's not doing it again.\"\n\n\"No, it's very good that you do want to do it, besides it's the personal care he needs, which we can't give him.\" I laugh aloud. I know what she means his morning erections are quite hilarious, which is another reason to get him home, relieving that problem in private. The doctor said it couldn't do him any harm and may bring him around. It hadn't worked so far...\n\nWe are at long last, moving him to our new home, it was done, and the Doctors agreed. He needed a personal nurse, and I had to be trained in the feeding tubes and changing of the catheters and such, so that's what I did, I trained to do everything for him. Was that really only six months ago? The days had been melding into one long day after another, then they turned into weeks, and they finally turning into months. We needed a change of scene and now we are getting it. Jess and I, along with her grandparents and our slightly large, if odd entourage, are on the way to the villa. The machine beeps to the rear of the jet, and I dash to his side.\n\n\"It wasn't Leo, Sara it was just the turbulence, he is still sleeping. He is safe, go and sit down. You need the rest your ankles are swollen, legs up young lady. Here Jessica, place these pillows under your Mom's feet please?\" I kiss his cheek and sit by Jess, who does as Bridget, his nurse says and though she cares for him, she has been a God send for me too.\n\n\"Mom are you alright? Are my brother and sister giving you problems?\"\n\n\"No, we are fine, I am tired though. Dad have they delivered everything we need to the villa for Ben?\"\n\n\"They have and please, stop worrying between you and your mom, I am run ragged caring for you all. It will be easier at home. The smells of the sunshine and the summer here will make him feel better, and he will awaken refreshed. You too will be better, not spending all the time at his hospital bed.\"\n\n\"I will you are right. Jess the tutor is meeting us there, sorry you are to be home schooled for a while Jess. Asher, can you stop worrying, it's only a plane.\"\n\n\"Ummm, and a small plane with biddy seats, we are high up, with a big fall down.\"\n\n\"You, you big baby, it's fine besides we will be there in ten minutes, see the airports coming into view. Buckle in big man.\" Jess was fooling around with him and his insecurities about flying.\n\n\"Jess buckle up too, is Ben okay Delphia? Are you buckled in too?\"\n\n\"We are fine, Bridget has seen to it he is alright.\" I look over to see sleeping beauty, would that a kiss did wake him. He would have been awake a long time ago. The news that we could at last take him to the villa was much needed, the bullet had been removed months ago, but he still remained in a coma, and it was possible that one day he would just wake, and we lived for that one day, as the stress of hospital visits was slowly killing us all. Here at least we were all together. He would be in my bed again.\n\nWe landed in safety, and our bags and things were loaded into the cars and we followed the ambulance to the villa. I had yet to see it, but Giovanni says it's quite beautiful, he has been given the church in the village, were we will be living, he has been a big help to us all. We have had a punishing time these past six months. Paulo and Declan's trial will be looming soon, they are in solitary confinement, as the death threats are being taken seriously. Stefano has promised revenge. Stefano Junior had been killed inside his prison, evidently the hands of revenge do cross the miles. God help Declan and Paulo now, because it seems the Black Angel is blaming them for his death. We distanced ourselves from them too, it would seem that Leonardo has just two sons.\n\nI had a meeting with the Black Angel in prison. I assured him in return for our safety, the book would never be given to the authorities, and I told him too that the book Declan had, was a book of pure fiction. If he exacted any revenge on Jess, Ben's family or I, I would hand the book over. I told him were Alfredo Milinero was hidden and he believed me. I told him too that if I as much saw anyone following us, the book would find its way to the right people. His one requirement to his agreeing was that I didn't class Declan or Paulo as family. I shook his hand and wished him well. I walked out of the prison and straight to the doctors, were I found out I was pregnant and not just run down. I was happy and as I told Ben that night, I imagined him holding me loving me and kissing me. I settled for kissing then taking his hand and laying it on his unborn child.\n\n\"Don't forget you said, you would be better this time. I don't intend to do this alone, we need you, Jess needs you, so come back to me.\" I slept at his side holding him, but nothing. We had hoped the bullet and the swelling going down was good news, but still he sleeps. Tonight, he will be in our bed and be surrounded by family. The family that went potty when I told them I was pregnant again, when we found out the day it was twins, they were overjoyed twice fold. I was now never left alone. The very proud Grandparents and Jess worried over me, we videoed me every single day, so we could show Ben what he missed out on. Photos are done of the ever-increasing bulge, and snapshots are sent to his phone, you name it we documented it. We arrived at the fortress on the hillside, and if my mouth dropped anymore, my jaw would be on the floor.\n\n\"Oh wow, Jess this is beautiful, your Dad did well, it's beautiful.\"\n\n\"I know, we just need the ivy and the walls covered with greenery and flowers and it will look like the castles in all my fairy stories. We need to get sleeping beauty in and do the tour, everything on the mountain is ours, there's a stream, and a lake, everything Mom, it's everything he said it was. Wait until you see the bedroom's they are perfect too. I have a surprise for you too.\" I oh-ed as she grabbed my hand.\n\nIt was as she said, exactly like a castle, a modern new build castle, complete with grand staircases and chandeliers. Yes, I'm in my very own fairy tale, I wonder were the Ogre's and Trolls are? I would say Mom as she likes to be called, was the dragon, but she isn't. She's the sweetest thing alive. Forever fussing and pandering to our needs. We have to tell her to take it easy, she will kill herself before the bambinos arrive. It works for a day or so, and she starts up again. They wheel Ben to the lift, and I join them as the door pings open, and I am shown to our rooms, and wow they are lush. I watch as they place him on Grandy's four poster bed.\n\n\"Do you mind? I know you said it was the comfiest bed you had ever slept in, and well I want Daddy to have comfort, he seems to sleep an awful lot. I will leave you to settle in and then we explore Mom. This is so cool, it's frigging awesome. Did I tell you that already? Wake up Dad we're home.\" She kisses his cheek sighs and goes to her rooms.\n\n\"Thank you, but I think that I can manage Bridget. Do you think you will be happy here?\" She smiles.\n\n\"I think I will be it's such a pretty place, and with any luck you won't be requiring me for long, I was due to retire anyway.\"\n\n\"Bridget, you were and are a God send. Jess and I thank you for agreeing to give up your job at the hospital and come and work for us, and when I say work, I mean be part of the family, our ever growing family.\"\n\n\"The babies are they alright? The flight has made your legs puffy, please lie down and sleep too. Ben is fine, are you sure it's alright to call him Ben, it seems very informal?\"\n\n\"I hate being so formal its part of my inherited Bohemian genes, I am sure it's less to fuss over, it's Ben and Sara. I think you may still have to call his parents Mr and Mrs Vinci, unless they tell you differently, which they will, they are not at all stuffy, we have friends not staff.\" She smiles grabs some pillows and makes me raise my feet.\n\n\"Now sleep, you will feel better when you wake. Ben is alright, and I will call back in a couple of hours to check on you both, sorry you all.\"\n\n\"Thank you, you're mothering me too, but I seem to like it, goodnight.\"\n\n\"Goodnight Sara, it really is my honour.\" I smile as she says it. Her voice is quite calming, and she has the softest of touches. She often found me crying at his bedside and would sit and talk to me. She made me feel totally at ease, so when they said we needed a nurse, who better than the one who looked after us both so well.\n\nWe settled easily into our routine here. Jess's teacher was an old retired teacher, and they spent hours studying. I laughed as she said she actually enjoyed being taught by Rafi, he was she said, most excellent. Her new films were Keanu Reeves inspired, Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure, it ranks highly on the play list, if she says party on, one more time I swear I will bury it in the backyard. She still sits and makes her dad watch vampires with her every night, I do joke that's why he won't wake up.\n\nI had been walled up in my castle for over two months, I was bored, and I was nesting big time, and had decided it was time for the nursery to be done, it was the last room in fact. The cribs and things were all here, and Jess and the rest had gone into San Marino to pick up Eli from his flight. Whist they are there, they are picking up the drapes and the bedding, Nonna was insistent she was picking them. Jess had decided they need a fairy tale nursery in their castle. So it was what they got, the murals were so lifelike, and I enjoyed very much painting the dragons and the Princesses in all there finery, the Knights on their horses and the castle on a hill. I was up a ladder putting the final additions to their room, their photographs and pictures. When I misjudged the last step, and I fell from the ladder, I landed quite badly on my backside. The bulge went rock hard as I cried out in pain.\n\nI screamed for help, over and over again, because I was in pain, real pain... With Jess, I'd had an epidural and a C-section, so there was no pain, this was killing me, and nobody was about. I screamed again as I crawled to my room next door, damn it why did they all go and leave me? Oh, that's right because I told them to. My phone was on the bed. I pulled up to the bed, crying in pain, and cursing Ben to high hell.\n\n\"Be here for me next fucking time, oh no you're a fucking asleep, shit ouch... I swear you will pay for this Vinci, this is a God awful bad and painful shagfess.\" I screamed again and pressed Ben's bell, thank the lord Bridget hadn't gone with them. \"Ben, you promised me it would be different. I need you Ben and now.\" I thumped him hard. Crying and screaming as I did, and just as Bridget came running in.\n\n\"Sara, are you alright? The babies are they coming?\" I ummed as another contraction came, she stood me up and my waters broke, great. I was laid on towels on our bedroom floor screaming like there was no tomorrow. I cried screamed and swore. So unlike me, but this bloody hurt.\n\n\"Baby number one is here, push hard and we will see who the eldest is?\" I screamed at the top of my lungs as she came out. \"She is wonderful and a nice colour.\" Bridget cleared her mouth and rubbed her in the towel, as she screamed her first cry. \"She has a healthy pair of lungs, too she is beautiful, and she looks just like my Daniella Gabriella.\" I looked at her and screamed again. \"Oh little Leonardo doesn't want to wait, are you alright, I will put baby next to Daddy, so he can keep her warm?\"\n\n\"Yesss, you do it, do it now... He doesn't want to wait. How do you... Argh... Know... About my Mother, nobody knew she was called Gabrielle too... I heard you, who are you? You're here to steal my babies, aren't you? Helppppppp me please, someone help meeeee.\"\n\n\"Relax please, Sara, you're my granddaughter. Daniella Gabriella was my daughter, these two are my family too. I've known all about you, since I became your mother, my daughter's, secretary, I was horrified at the things I wrote for her. All I had ever wanted to do was find the sweet baby I had ripped from my arms and then when I finally found the courage many, many years later, what I found chilled me to the core, at first. She was a shameless pitiful wreck, ruined by greed and distinct lack of any moral compass.\n\nMy grandson was evil too. You, I did not meet until you came for the first time and saw her that day, but I read all your mothers reports on you, I looked at my granddaughter and then my great-granddaughter with such pride. You proved her wrong. She always blamed Jessica for being a bad mother, but in the end, she admitted had she given poor Jess time to explain her reasons for keeping her past a secret, instead of blaming her, things could have been so different. In her last few month's she was much changed. Her descriptions of you led me to believe she had done well not raising you.\" She was explaining and working on me.\n\n\"I ran straight after I had your mother. The nurse told him I had died having Daniella Gabriella, he didn't even come in the room and check on the damage he caused. He just said they were to bury me in the garden, the baby would be disposed of as she was damaged. The nurse was to leave her at a church. She helped me escape after she sent a telegram to William for him and Jess to come and get Daniella Gabriella. I was placed in a hospital, for my own protection, safely away from him. I was seriously ill from blood loss and complications after her birth. I desperately needed to get help and care. I had to be given a hysterectomy, such was the damage done to me, it took me months to recover and when I did, I sought out my child.\n\nI learned by this time, she had been given to Jessica to bring up as her own, by my brother, Faulkner. The nurse had kept her hidden and safe and followed my instructions to give the child to William and his wife to care for her until I could. I didn't know they had been told I had died in childbirth, the nurse was caught with Daniella, as she brought her back to the house to give her to my kindly brother and his wife, who could not have children. Mumps had left poor William barren. Faulkner took pity on his child as he gazed upon her, he must have had a tiny amount of love for her in his cold heart, helped I hope by God's guiding hand. With that same luck, William had turned up just in time to save her.\n\nThe nurse was dismissed, but she still kept a watch on the baby though, as Jessica cuddled the child and left knowing that she was safe for the time being, until I could claim her back. Faulkner could not deny her birth any longer, but within an hour of his meeting his daughter, and handing her over he had killed himself. I smiled and wished he was in the bowels of hell and praised the Lord for answering my prayers. He left a note telling them of all that he had done, who her mother was, everything. William walked in just as he pulled the trigger, he couldn't stop him, and it killed poor William too. Until I sought out the nurse who helped deliver my child and got me to safety, I knew nothing of all this.\" I screamed some more, but all this talking was calming me down too, in a strange, strange way.\n\nShe washed my face as I sweated and felt the bump, taking readings and examining me. I just wanted help, and she was doing that so well, I was strangely calmed by having Bridget by my side. She continued to talk and rubbing my back for me, as each contraction got worse. I listened to the story, I concentrated on her words and relaxed until the pains were tolerable.\n\n\"I was so afraid of Jessica rejecting me. She hated Faulkner so very much and blamed him for poor William's death, who could blame her for hating me too? They were so in love, her and her flighty travel and be damned attitude, live life to the fullest, not fill it with work and dreary things, money was not the be all and end all. She always said to William, when is enough money enough, when you're too dead to enjoy it? She made my brother so happy, he was so stressed at work before she breezed into his life. He was a much changed person, when he finally met her, his perfect partner. I thought she would hate me too, after all I had caused William to die, or rather my having a child by my brother, caused him to die.\n\nIt was not like I asked for the monster to force himself on me, or to impregnated me with his own child. That was the cruellest thing of all waiting all those months to see if she was damaged. She looked perfect in the few minutes I had her in my arms, but she cried aloud, and he knew she was alive. The nurse was hoping to say we had both died. Faulkner said he wanted the baby out of the way, and I was to be sent to the asylum, the nurse saved us both that day. Telling him I had died and then agreeing to drop the child off at the church. When I got better, I travelled to their home in Richmond and I watched her for a few days. I needed to see how she was, how Daniella was, and if they were happy.\n\nSo after I made sure Jessica was looking after Daniella, and she was, she was a very happy child. Her nurse was ever attentive, and Jessica smiled as she cuddled her daughter. How could I split them up? She had been her daughter for six happy months, and mine for but a few minutes. My faith had told me I needed to leave it be and do what I had always wanted to do and to be a missionary doctor, I wanted to become a nun and give my life to God and care for people. Both my vocations at last were to be fulfilled, as I met the last hurdle, I had no children who depended on me, Jess saw to it Daniella was safe.\n\nSo, I decided to remain dead to them, it would be much easier for them that way, don't you think? I entered the convent and it became my life's calling. I was so happy that day. The day my life with Christ started. I joined the novitiates and found a strange peace, something which was missing from my life before, and I was allowed to keep being a doctor, something else Faulkner had stopped, my dreams and hopes.\" She smiled as she mopped my brow, gave me a sip of water, and held my hand as she spoke softly. I screamed a little more as my stomach tightened, the pain was excruciating.\n\n\"You're doing very well Sara, very well. I was happy too, until a chance meeting with your mother many years later. I was back in London, attending to a priest who was ill, as his doctor. I happened upon her name in his diary, her details were there, along with her name at baptism. He was her priest, and she had made enquiries into renewing her faith. I happily went to see her at his behest, he was too ill, and his replacement was still on his way from Rome. So I went to see her, and was quite excited too... Oh, that's right Sara breathe through this one, pant, good, you're nearly there.\" I did I was asked as I looked at her. \"I went to see her, she presumed I had been sent to be her secretary, I didn't argue or tell her differently, and after an interview she hired me to write her life story, it was the perfect position for me. I didn't need to tell her who I was, and she would tell me her life story.\n\nI asked for immediate released from my vows, I told them why, and they were shocked and surprised, because I had never told them of my daughter, but now she was dying, she needed me. I was released, but in doing so, I was told I could not go back to my calling if I did. So, with a heavy heart, I became her secretary. Then her last visit to the specialist said a heart would not be found in time, and she was to make her peace whilst she could. She tried so hard to write to you but didn't. She said she didn't deserve your forgiveness. It was then we wrote the third and final book that one made me truly sick, at what she had done, what she allowed Declan to do. As luck had it, I happened across the postman one day.\n\nI received the letters from him before I entered the building, she was pleasantly surprised to see one from her granddaughter and had me reply, according to Jessica's letter, she had been writing for months, unfortunately, the nurse was intercepting the post for Declan. He was convinced there would be things of interest sent through the post regarding his inheritance. Anything like that was sent to her post office box, she wasn't stupid, and she knew I would pick it up and keep them from Declan.\n\nThat day I met you, Daniella had just told me she had not long to live, hours if she was lucky. Her breathing had become laboured, and as we had said our goodbyes, I had a feeling it would be for the last time, so I was quite sad. When she died, I decided to try to be there for you, instead. I had enough money Daniella left me plenty. So I watched you and followed you looking for a way in, then one day I spotted a man following you in Scotland. I watched, and I waited, I saw and heard about all the commotion at the big house, as I was stopping in the little guest house on the estate, run by the chap Kale and his wife, Lenny.\n\nHe would tell me the goings on, on his return. Finally, he then said your nightmares were over, they had caught all responsible, and you were returning to London. I thought you had security with you, so I followed. I watched as you pulled into the pub by the riverside and took my place in the beer garden. I was going to introduce myself, when I saw a man who had been following you. I realised he wasn't security and watched in horror as he set himself up. I wasn't as quick as I could have been, the damn door window wouldn't break.\n\nI rolled the car down, between his sights and you two, and I sat with you until the police were on the scene. I failed miserably at my last job of watch dog because you got shot.\" I screamed again, in disbelief and amazement. \"Baby number two is nearly here Sara, pant and breathe with me, deep breathes. You're doing so fantastically, one more push and we are there.\"\n\n\"You're my grandmother, you're here to help me, please help, this really hurts?\" I screamed again and wow, the pain was unbelievable, yet confusing and the feelings even stranger.\n\n\"Good yes, now shush darling, push one last time. Oh Sara, he is beautiful.\" She cleared his mouth, gave him a rub and wrapped him in a towel, handing him to me as he cried. I cried this baby cried as did my baby daughter. Bridget too cried as we were awash with so many strange feelings.\n\n\"Thank you, you really are who you say you are? You're my grandmother, it's all true and not a lie to get my babies?\"\n\n\"Everything I have told you is the truth, and I have just delivered a Great-Granddaughter and Great-Grandson, it was such a wonderful experience, thank you Sara. I actually thought my game was up. I thought Father Giovanni had recognised me at her flat, as he was best friends with Father Patrick's replacement. He was stopping with us at the rectory for a few weeks, as he had urgent family business that was making him quite poorly. He had called to give her the last rites sacrament, the new priest was his friend, and he, unfortunately, had been called to a rather more pressing appointment. I held my breath for quite a while I can tell you. He didn't recognise me. It had been a couple of weeks since last I saw him. I was always in my habit too, and we penguins all look the same to the priests.\" She laughed as she said it too.\n\n\"He was still a little distracted, he even went roaming from room to room looking for the toilet. Bless him he was a tormented man. I hadn't had a lot of contact with them to be honest. I was just the Sister who served the three priests their afternoon tea in the rectory, and he hadn't recognised me as the dowdy secretary, showing him into her room. Daniella had never seen me, well she had in old photos, but then again I was a lot older than I was in the photographs she did have for her book.\" That's why she looked familiar, I had seen the photos, in the book my mother wrote. \"Right, I have to clear up after these two, shall I put him with his sister? Just until we clear all this away, then we will get you in bed for some sleep?\"\n\n\"Ummm please, Ben can look after his children for a while.\" I heard deep and loud laughter and then a scream. I looked to the door, and Jess was stood there open mouthed and smiling.\"\n\n\"Dad, you're awake oh hell... You're awake... And you have my brother or is that my sister?\"\n\n\"I don't know Jess, I woke up when I heard an ear-piercing scream, and someone hit me, I think? Then swore at me, but I went to sleep again, and then when I woke up again because I had a crying baby in my arms. I looked down and your mom was busy having a baby. I think I may still be dreaming all this, because that story the nurse has just told is very much like the spy novel, I have been dreaming about lately. Where are we and why am I in Grandys bed and why are you having babies Sara? You didn't have them when I fell asleep, what sort of dream is this then or am I still dreaming?\"\n\n\"No Ben these are your two babies, we are at our new home in Italy, and you sleeping beauty have been in a coma for eight months, not sleeping, but recovering and for eight long and hectic months.\"\n\n\"Oh hell Mom you had the babies, wait a minute Nonna and Nonno are stopping in town for dinner. I will phone them and get them back shit Mom, Dad's awake. I will tell them to get their bums home or sorry, get Mike to get their bums home, you get yourself sorted first. What's betting she has a kitten?\"\n\n\"Sara, are you alright? You were shot the last thing I remember, and I thought you had died. Who is this then?\" His smiling face was looking down from the bed.\n\n\"That's your daughter, they are all still arguing over her name. This is your son Leonardo meet Daddy Leonardo.\" He laughed.\n\n\"Ummm it seems I have yet to see my woman pregnant. Have you finished with her nurse? My babies Mom needs to explain how I went to sleep with just Jess and woke up with another two children?\"\n\n\"This nurse is my dead grandmother, and no she really is, the story you heard was all true. Oh hell, I have loads to tell you, give me a minute please. She's busy sorting your children's mom out here.\" My heart was racing, beating ten thousand miles an hour and in desperate for a hug of him and our children.\n\n\"All done, right let's get you up on that bed, move over Sir.\" He laughed as he moved carefully with his daughter.\n\n\"Why do I have no feelings in my toes, my bum is numb too?\"\n\n\"You have been in bed over eight months. Sir was in a coma and it's good that you remember Sara was shot, many people can't even remember their names, as it is you were hurt far worse than Sara and have been sleeping. When Sara went into labour, she hit you and whilst having a contraction, she may have shouted and thumped you some more, and her doing that could have triggered your awakening. It's a good job too as she has run herself ragged caring for you.\n\nNow you will get stronger and be able to move, physiotherapy can only do so much, and though Sara spends all her time with you, exercising your legs and arms, even she isn't wonder woman. You can walk, it will just take you a while to rebuild the muscles Sir. You will be fine once you start eating, and rebuilding your strength, the Doctor will have to be called, he can check on you if you require it, though I have been dealing with your care since we arrived in Italy.\"\n\n\"Stop with the Sir thing, please? I think you can call me Ben or Leo, what have you been calling me? You said in the story I listened to you were a doctor, a nun who was a doctor is that right?\"\n\n\"Yes Ben, I was and am still a doctor, I retired to look after Sara's Mother, but yes I am a legal doctor. I called you Ben when we washed you and dressed you. If Sara let us get a look in that is, she bathed you and nursed you, learnt to change you, clean you, and feed you.\"\n\n\"Yes, I have been busy looking after the biggest baby I know again, this time for a tad more than a week and with something far worse than a cold.\" I blushed as I carefully got on the bed. The banging at the door made me jump, as Jess bounded in closely followed by everyone else.\n\nMom didn't know, whom to cuddle first or if she should just throw herself in the middle of the bed and cuddle everyone. She hugged Ben to death swearing at him for worrying her and being too lazy to wake up. Leonardo rescued his son with a hug, taking his granddaughter from him.\n\n\"Has our little girl got a name then?\"\n\n\"She is called Donatella Lark, I hope that's alright? Our son is called Leonardo Robin. I would like you all to meet my grandmother, and the person who saved our lives that awful day. Eli this is the woman who saved my life, this is Bridey, or as she is normally know as Sister Bridget, Giovanni do you not recognise her?\" He looked at her again and smiled.\n\n\"Of course, Father Patrick's doctor, how did I not see you? You were so good to him. I'm so sorry I didn't know you were Sara's relation.\"\n\n\"Don't worry about it, Father, it has been a hidden secret for far too long. I have only just been introduced officially, to her and as her grandmother, she didn't know I was until she had Donatella, such a beautiful name too.\"\n\n\"Rather explains the urgent and sudden need for you to give up your calling, a far greater calling indeed, the need to protect your grandchild and my family. Thank you.\"\n\n\"It really was my pleasure, I did it for purely selfish reasons, getting to know my daughter again, the Granddaughter and Great-Granddaughter were a pleasant bonus, and having delivered my other great-grandchildren is way more than I deserved. Now I think we all need to leave Mom and Dad and Big Sister Jessica Jay, to get some kisses in.\"\n\nThey left us alone. All be it very reluctantly on Moms part, the promises of her doing the nightshift was accepted.\n\n\"I will go in a minute too. I just need to hold Daddy for a while. He owes me more hugs, the things you do to get out of paying my allowance old man, oh and you owe me a car you slept through a birthday, we can have to have more cake now.\"\n\n\"Oh Jessica Jay, I'm so sorry. Anything you want you can have, I love you Little Bird, get up here, before I explode.\" He hugged her to near death, and as he did, he kissed her head. I watched as the twins slept in my arms, oh thank you thank you guardian angel. Jess gave me a kiss and then her siblings as she was busy hugging her Dad again, and as she did, she cried as she hugged him more.\n\n\"I have everything I wished for when I blew out my candles, you're alright again and my brother and sister are here safe. Promise me don't ever leave me again though?\" She cried herself to sleep in his arms.\n\n\"This is perfect, I think. So, what do we do now? I need to hug you too, but all our children are in the way. I went to sleep and woke up with a larger family. I'm getting too good at disappearing and walking into a bigger family. Next time can I be there right from the peeing on a stick? I saw my son being born, but missed both of my daughter's arrivals, we need to do that again.\" I laughed so loudly that Jess woke up.\n\n\"Please let me rest a while first?\" Jess nuzzled into my side and slept again.\n\n\"I will give you a few days, but I need to exercise Baby. I can't believe it I have three children can you believe it, three beautiful children, can you believe it? Yes of course you can, thank you I love you, my little Humming Bird.\" I smiled as he held the other two. I was now hugging Jessica, as she held on to me. I felt wonderful exhausted and relieved, Ben had woken from an awful nightmare. We must have looked a sight all five of us on Grandy's bed.\n\n\"Did we set a date for the wedding then? It seems I have to make three children legitimate now?\" I laughed as he kissed my head again.\n\n\"You're a romantic sod, we have to get you stronger first, and I have to lose a few pounds first. My dress won't fit.\" He kissed me again and I ummed into them.\n\nWe did marry six weeks later, in a wonderful ceremony at our home in Italy, sun shining birds singing and babies crying, seems as we were all in the one place, it was too good an opportunity to miss, so they were christened too. I had everything I wanted. My happy family in my castle in the sky, with a river and a wood's running around it, my horses in their paddocks, and Jess happy with her siblings, but better than that? I had the love of my life back in my life, living and breathing, he had died twice already, and for me that was two times too many times to die on me.\n\nThank you for reading my mystery romance novel, a first for me...\n", "meta": {"pile_set_name": "BookCorpus2"}}
{"text": " \n## How Putin and Assad Created the Islamic State\n\n## Iakovos Alhadeff\n\n### Smashwords Edition\n\n### Copyright © 2016, Iakovos Alhadeff\n\n## Table of Contents\n\nPutin and the Islamic State\n\nPutin and Hitler\n\nArticles\nPutin and the Islamic State\n\nA very good article from Reuters about al-Nusra, the Al-Qaeda affiliate in Syria. See \"Syria's Nusra Front may leave Qaeda to form new entity\", March 2015.\n\nAccording to Reuters in 2015 Qatar was trying to convince al-Nusra to quit Al-Qaeda in order to start cooperating with Qatar against Assad.\n\nQatar is trying to bring al Nusra closer to it, but the Americans have designated al-Nusra as a terrorist organization. Qatar wants to isolate al-Nusra from Al-Qaeda, because Iran has a lot of influence in Al-Qaeda, and Qatar and Iran are fighting each other in Syria. Qatar is with Turkey and Iran is with Assad.\n\nIran, Sudan and Hezbollah trained Osama bin Laden's men in Sudan in the early 90s. The Arabs of Al-Qaeda i.e Saudis, Egyptians, Libyans, Sudanese, Iraqis etc, were giving money to Hezbollah, and Hezbollah was giving them training and weapons. Al-Qaeda had plenty of money and Hezbollah had plenty of expertise and weapons from Iran. See \"The Al-Qaeda-Hezbollah Axis\".\n\nQatar would also like to convince al-Nusra not to target the Americans and the French, as al-Qaeda does, but instead focus on Assad and the Islamic State (ISIS). Note that the top people of the Islamic State are the ex-officers of Saddam Hussein, who were trained by the Soviets and KGB, who were selling oil to Turkey, and who were hunting the Kurds of Iraq and Turkey together with the Turks. Today the Islamic State is using the same trade routes that were used by Saddam in order to sell oil to Turkey in the black market.\n\nIn September 2015 the ex-director of CIA, General Petreaus, said that maybe the United States should cooperate with the moderate elements of al-Qaeda i.e. al-Nusra in Syria, in order to fight ISIS. See Guardian \"David Petraeus' bright idea: give terrorists weapons to beat terrorists\", September 2015.\n\nThe Americans still consider al-Nusra a terrorist organization, and they know that sooner or later they will have to fight al-Nusra too. But maybe they could have a limited cooperation with al-Nusra without providing it with sophisticated weapons. For example the Americans can provide air-coverage to al-Nusra when al-Nusra fights ISIS, or when al-Nusra fights Assad.\n\nOn the other hand the American Foreign Minister John Kerry said that the United States must cooperate with Russia against al-Nusra and ISIS, which means that the Russians and the Americans will jointly target al-Nusra, which is attacking Assad, and Russia will allow the Americans to attack ISIS, which is targeting the Europeans and the Americans. See CNN \"Kerry: US, Russia to cooperate against al Qaeda in Syria\", July 2016.\n\nThe Russians are making it very difficult for the Americans to target ISIS. Very often the Russians say they attack the Islamic State, but they don't. They rarely target the Islamic State, mostly when they want to put Assad's or Hezbollah's men in a post held by the Islamic State. But they are normally letting them know before they attack. Remember that the Russians and the ex-Saddam people know each other very well since the Soviet times, which is not the case with al-Nusra, which is an enemy of Russia and Assad, and that was more so from the time al-Nusra was bought by Qatar.\n\nPutin and Assad know very well that in the Sunni part of Syria they will have some opponents, and they do not want opponents who can cooperate with NATO. ISIS and al-Qaeda are ideal opponents for Assad and Putin from this point of view, because they both target NATO too, and therefore they can be supported by the Turks and the Arabs, but they cannot be supported by NATO.\n\nISIS is not attacking Assad, but even if it does at some point attack him, the Americans and the French will not be able to provide ISIS with any weapons, and that's the same for al-Qaeda, which is attacking Assad though.\n\nThat's the reason the Russian, the Iranian, Hezbollah, al-Nusra and ISIS, all target the Syrian soldiers who are trained by NATO. They make sure that when the Arabs and the Turks fight Assad they cannot have NATO on by their side. If there was a NATO friendly opposition in Syria NATO would provide tons of weapons in order to open the Qatar-Turkey pipeline.\n\nNote that the Qatar-Turkey Pipeline is the true pipeline. The Iran-Iraq-Syria pipeline is more of a propaganda from Russia and Iran, in order to say that they have something to put in the place of the Qatar-Turkey pipeline. Otherwise it would be very difficult for Assad to explain to his people why he does not want the Qatar-Turkey pipeline.\n\nThe Qatar-Turkey pipeline could go straight from Qatar to Europe, while the Iran-Iraq-Syria pipeline would have to liqyefy the gas in Syria, then ship it to Europe with the very expensive LNG carriers, and regasify it there. That does not make economic sense. Iran can simply liquefy the gas in Iran and ship it from Iran without construction a multi-billion dollar pipeline which will beconstanly sabotaged by the Arabs.\n\nMap Sunni VS Shia Pipelines\n\nMap Pipelines\n\nIt is not a secret that Assad and Putin helped the ex-people of Saddam Hussein to create the Islamic State. The predecessor of the Islamic State was Al-Qaeda of Iraq, which was created in 2003 by the Arabs and the Iranians to attack the Americans, when the Americans attacked Iraq without their approval. The ex-officers of Saddam were in al-Qaeda of Iraq and they were trained by the Soviet. See \"Turning to Kurdistan\".\n\n<https://iakal.wordpress.com/2016/07/26/turning-to-kurdistan/>\n\nWhen the Muslim Brotherhood attacked Assad in 2011, with the support of Turkey and Qatar, Putin and Assad supported the ex-people of Saddam Hussein, most of whom were already in Al-Qaeda Iraq, and they created the Islamic State of Iraq and Syria. Two great articles which explain how Russia, Syria and Iran created the Islamic State and al-Nusra in Syria are the following:\n\nSpiegel \"The Terror Strategist: Secret Files Reveal the Structure of Islamic State\", April 2015.\n\nand\n\nThe Atlantic \"The Short, Violent Life of Abu Musab al-Zarqawi\", August 2006\n\nThe Spiegle is the largest European magazine, and the Atlantic is an American magazine with almost two hundrend years in circulation.\n\nThe Arabs and the Iranians were supporting for years the Al-Qaeda of Iraq, because in Iraq Assad and the Arabs of the Persian Gulf were allies. But when the war in Syria broke out things got more complicated, and they found themselves in opposite sides, and there were problems with Al-Qaeda too.\n\nThe Russians, the Syrians, the Iranians and the Arabs of the Gulf had different priorities in Syria, and there was a civil war in the Jihadist who were fighting the Americnas in Iraq.\n\nIn the beginning the Americans were very enthousiastic about attacking Assad in Syria, but now they have improved their relations with Iran and they are open on the Assad question, because the Iranians want Assad to stay at any cost.\n\nIn Syria the Arabs and the Turks are trying to buy as many terrorist gasgs as possible, whether from ISIS or al-Nusra, in order to use them against Assad. The Turks and the Arabs were not happy with the Americans, because they expected more support from NATO in Syria, and the Americans let them down, so they started supporting tetrorists against Assad, even if that strained their relations with NATO.\n\nWhen I say that ISIS consists of the ex-officers of Saddam Hussein I am reffereing to the top people and not every little group that cooperates with ISIS. At the following picture you can see the terrorist groups of Syria. They are all for hire, and gourps are based on tribal or geographical connections.\n\nGangs of Syria\n\n https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_armed_groups_in_the_Syrian_Civil_War\n\nWhen the Americans conqured Iraq in 2003, they dissolved the army of Saddam Hussein, which was a Sunni army, in order for the Shia majority of Iraq (65%) to build a Shia army and run the country. The Saddam officers, who had been fighting the Americans for decades, and who were trained by the Soviets, were beated in the war and later they were fired too. They really hated the Americans. Many of them joined al-Qaeda Iraq, and later on Putin and Assad used them to create the Islamic State, in order to have an enemy that could not align with NATO. You really need to read the Spiegel article. It is a great article.\n\nBy creating ISIS Assad and Syria were not hopping to create a friend. They knew they were creating an enemy. Bus since they could not create a friend in Sunni Syria they created an enemy that NATO could not supply with arms.\n\nThe Iranians, for the same reasoning that Assad and Putin did, supported Al-Qaeda in Syria. The Iranians knew that eventually al-Qaeda would attack them in Syria, and it did it when al-Nusra was bought by Qatar, but they knew the Americans could not supply al-Qaeda in Syria with weaons that would be used against Assad.\n\nThe Turks, very disappointed by NATO, did not recognize al-Nusra as a terrorist organization, even though they knew how sensitive the Americans are with al-Qaeda. The Turks did that because al-Nusra was also killing Syrian Kurds, and because they wanted to pay the Americans back for not recognizing the Syrian Kurds (YPG) as a terrorist organization.\n\nIn 2014 the Turks recognized al-Nusra as a terrorist organization, but later it was mainly with al-Nusra that the Turks and the Qataris would attack Assad. Terrorism is always state funded, and it is a living organism. It changes whenever international relations change. People think that the Americans are funding the terrorists, but it is the Islamists, the Russians and the communist dictators of Latin America who are funding terrorists. The Americans have a very powerful army. They don't need terrorism. The weaker parties need terrorism.\n\nThe United States now have two choices. They will have to cooperate with Russia, in order for Russia to let them fight al-Nusra and ISIS in Syria, which has been Russia's back yard for the last decades, or they will have to send army in Syria, in order to attack Russia and Assad. The American political system is divided.\n\nBut what you should keep in mind is that the main enemy of Putin and Assad is not the Islamic State but al-Nusra. The Islamic State might become their enemiy at some point, but for the moment the Islamic State does not attack Assad, and therefore it does not support the Qatar-Turkey pipeline. Moreover the the Islamic State makes the Americans very reluctant in providing arms to the opposition, because these arms might end up in the hands of ISIS as many times has happened in the past few years.\n\nI must also say that the Arabs and the Turks were initially united against Assad, but at some point there was a divide between Turkey and Qatar on one hand, and Saudi Arabia and United Arab Emirates on the other, because the Turks and the Qataris were supporting the Muslim Brotherhood, which is a threat for Saudi Arabia. Therefore the Turkey and Saudi Arabia started fighting each other in Syria.\n\nIn Syria Saudi Arabia can communicate with Russia because Saudi Aabia does not care much about natural gas. At least not as much as Turkey and Qatar do. But in 2015, with the new Saudi King, the Turks and the Saudis reached an agreement, and the Saudi King accepted a role for the Muslim Brotherhood in the Syrian opposition.\n\nYou have to remember that Assad is very important for Turkey and Qatar. Qatar and Turkey do not care too much about ISIS. But ISIS is very important for the United States. The United States care a lot more about ISIS than they care about Assad, especially after they reached a deal with Iran about the Iranian nuclear program.\nPutin and Hitler\n\nI want to say one last thing. One of the articles that follow says that the alliance between Putin and ISIS is like the alliance between the Nazis and the Communists in 1939, and at some point they are going to stab each other in the same way the Nazis stabbed the Communists in 1941. See \"Bashar al-Assad and the Devil's Endgame\", September 2015.\n\nImage Hiter and Stalin – The Nazi-Communist Alliance of 1939\n\nI think what the article says is correct, because geography will not change. Syria will still be a corridor in the future. Putin and Assad spread ISIS on Syria and they did block NATO for now. But ISIS and the Turks might join their forces against Russia at some point. Erdogan is not very different from ISIS. He played it nice to bring Turkey in the European Union, in order to do demographic Jihad.\n\nBut look what he did once the Germans and the French did not let him in. He cooperates with the Greek Communists in order to flood Europe with Muslim illegal immigrants. He wants to do violent demographic Jihad. See \"Germany's Defeat by the Turkish Islamists and the Greek Communists\".\n\n https://iakal.wordpress.com/2015/12/08/germanys-defeat-by-the-turkish-islamists-and-the-greek-communists/\n\nErdogan and ISIS will always want to send the natural gas of the Persian Gulf to Europe. If at some point they feel strong enough they will bite Russia.\n\nMap The War for the Pipelines\n\nMaybe Putin plans to quickly destroy the European Union, maybe with the help of Donald Trump, in order to go ahead with the Nord Stream 2 pipeline, and one of the South Stream or the Turk Stream pipeline.\n\nNow the European Energy Union blocks the Russian pipelines because they violate the anti-monopolistic rules of the EU. If Russia builds these two pipelines maybe there will be no economic sense for the Qatar-Turkey and the Trans-Saharan pipelines, and then Putin might lethatly attack ISIS. Maybe that's how he is thinking about it. But if the European Union brakes the French and the Germans might go to a war.\n\nOn the other hand If Hilary is elected she is thinking about bringing the American army in Syria, which still might cause a war.\n\nThese are interesting times.\n\nArticles\n\n\" **Syria's Nusra Front may leave Qaeda to form new entity\", March 2015**\n\nLeaders of Syria's Nusra Front are considering cutting their links with al Qaeda to form a new entity backed by some Gulf states trying to topple President Bashar al-Assad, sources said.\n\nSources within and close to Nusra said that Qatar, which enjoys good relations with the group, is encouraging the group to go ahead with the move, which would give Nusra a boost in funding.\n\nThe exercise could transform Nusra from a weakened militia group into a force capable of taking on Islamic State at a time when it is under pressure from bombing raids and advances by Kurdish and Iraqi military forces.\n\nIt could also boost the influence of Qatar and its allies in the campaign to oust Assad, in line with the Gulf state's growing diplomatic ambitions in the region. Qatari officials were not available for comment.\n\nWhile it awaits the final word from its decision-making Shoura council, Nusra is not wasting time. It has turned on small non-jihadi groups, seizing their territory and forcing them to disarm so as to consolidate Nusra's power in northern Syria and pave the way for the new group.\n\nIntelligence officials from Gulf states including Qatar have met the leader of Nusra, Abu Mohamad al-Golani, several times in the past few months to encourage him to abandon al Qaeda and to discuss what support they could provide, the sources said.\n\nThey promised funding once it happens.\n\n\"A new entity will see the light soon, which will include Nusra and Jaysh al Muhajereen wel Ansar and other small brigades,\" said Muzamjer al-Sham, a prominent jihadi figure who is close to Nusra and other Islamist groups in Syria.\n\n\"The name of Nusra will be abandoned. It will disengage from al Qaeda. But not all the Nusra emirs agree and that is why the announcement has been delayed,\" said Sham.\n\nA source close to the foreign ministry confirmed that Qatar wanted Nusra to become a purely Syrian force not linked to al Qaeda.\n\n\"They are promising Nusra more support, i.e. money, supplies etc, once they let go of the Qaeda ties,\" the official said.\n\nThe Qatari-led bid to rebrand Nusra and to provide it with new support could further complicate the war in Syria as the United States prepares to arm and train non-jihadist rebels to fight Islamic State.\n\nThe Nusra Front is listed as a terrorist group by the United States and has been sanctioned by the United Nations Security Council. But for Qatar at least, rebranding Nusra would remove legal obstacles to supporting it.\n\nFIGHTING ISLAMIC STATE\n\nOne of the goals of the new entity would be to fight Islamic State, Nusra's main competitor in Syria. IS is led by Iraqi jihadi Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi, who helped create Nusra before falling out with Golani.\n\nOnce the most powerful group fighting Assad, Nusra was weakened when most of its commanders and fighters left with Baghdadi to form Islamic State. IS then killed many of Nusra's remaining leaders, confiscated its weapons, forced its commanders to go underground and seized its territory.\n\nBut recently Islamic State has come under pressure from air strikes by a U.S.-led coalition. It has also lost ground to Kurdish fighters in Syria and to the Iraqi armed forces. But the group is far from collapse.\n\nBut if Nusra splits from al Qaeda, some hope that with proper funding, arming and training, fighters from the new group will be able to tackle Islamic State.\n\nJihadi sources said that Golani suggested to the group's Shoura Council that it should merge with Jaysh al-Muhajereen wel Ansar, a smaller jihadi group composed of local and foreign fighters and led by a Chechen commander.\n\nThe announcement has been delayed due to objections from some of Nusra's leaders who reject the idea of leaving al Qaeda. But this was seen as unlikely to stop Golani.\n\n\"He is going to do it, he does not have a choice. Those who are not happy can leave,\" said a Nusra source who backs the move.\n\nIt seems Golani is already establishing the ground.\n\nNusra wants to use northern Syria as base for the new group. It launched offensives against Western-backed groups who have been vetted by the U.S. to receive military support.\n\nIn the northern province of Idlib it seized territory from the Syria Revolutionaries' Front led by Jamal Maarouf, forcing him to flee. Last week it went after another mainstream group, Harakat Hazzm in Aleppo province, forcing it to dissolve itself.\n\nThe U.S. State Department said the end of Harakat Hazzm would have an impact on the moderate opposition's capabilities in the north.\n\nBut if Nusra is dissolved and it abandons al Qaeda, the ideology of the new entity is not expected to change. Golani fought with al Qaeda in Iraq. Some other leaders fought in Afghanistan and are close al Qaeda chief Ayman Zawahri.\n\n\"Nusra had to pledge loyalty to Sheikh Zawahri to avoid being forced to be loyal to Baghdadi but that was not a good idea, it is time that this is abandoned,\" said a Nusra source in Aleppo. \"It did not help Nusra and now it is on the terrorist list,\" he said.\n\n http://uk.reuters.com/article/uk-mideast-crisis-nusra-insight-idUKKBN0M00G620150304\n\n\" **David Petraeus' bright idea: give terrorists weapons to beat terrorists\", 2015**\n\n https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2015/sep/02/david-petraeus-bright-idea-give-terrorists-weapons-to-beat-isis\n\n\" **Russia not planning to send troops to fight ISIS in Syria – Putin's spokesman\", 2015**\n\n1, 2 Paragraphs\n\n\"No, this isn't being discussed in any way. This issue isn't on the agenda,\"Peskov told reporters on Tuesday when asked about the possibility of Russian military involvement in Syria.\n\nThe press-secretary also told the media that Syrian President Bashar Assad, had never asked his Russian counterpart, Vladimir Putin, to send troops to battle IS (formerly ISIS/ISIL).\n\n<https://www.rt.com/news/311583-russia-troops-syria-isis/>\n\n\" **Nusra Front split from al-Qaeda 'imminent', sources claim\", May 2015**\n\n1st-8th Paragraphs\n\nThe Nusra Front will imminently announce an official split from al-Qaeda, several sources confirmed on Monday.\n\nOpposition activists in southern Syria have told Middle East Eye that they expect the news to be announced very soon, with Arabic media reports suggesting that the group's leader Abu Mohammad al-Jolani will now make a very rare appearance to signal his independence from the militant group.\n\nSources within Nusra, one of the most effective anti-government factions in Syria's civil war, said that the new group would change its name to Jabhat Fateh al-Sham. They also stressed the group would lose access to al-Qaeda funds, although analysts have disputed the claims.\n\nMohamed Okda, an expert on Syrian issues who has been involved in negotiating with Syrian groups, told MEE that the money would keep flowing because the bulk of the group's funding came from private Gulf donors who would not abandon the Syrian cause as Nusra was unlikely to renounce its ideological heritage.\n\n\"Nusra is doing this to force the other rebel groups like Ahrar [al-Sham] and others into a corner, and push them into joining the new Shami front that Nusra will announce,\" Okda told MEE.\n\n\"They might be severing relations with al-Qaeda as an organisation,\" he said, adding that he knows both foreign and Arab al-Nusra Front fighters.\n\n\"[But] they are not breaking up with the ideology of al-Qaeda. [They are] firm believer[s] of al-Qaeda ideology, and a firm believer of attacking the West. They have huge respect for [former leader Osama] Bin Laden. So the separation is not ideological, it's organisational.\"\n\nRumours of a split have been circulating since Saturday when Charles Lister, a Syrian analyst, tweeted that Nusra's Shura Council had voted to sever its ties with al-Qaeda, although Nusra's official media channels have yet to comment.\n\nThey come amid reports of a supposed pact between the US, which supports elements of the Syrian opposition, and Russia, which supports Syrian President Bashar al-Assad, to target Nusra alongside the Islamic State (IS) group. Nusra split from IS in 2014.\n\n11-14th Paragraphs\n\nIt has also clashed with other opposition rebel groups, especially those they view as having received American support.\n\nA noted researcher of Islamic militancy told MEE that he believed the reports of a split were credible and that the move had been approved by al-Qaeda leaders.\n\n\"Nothing definitively confirms it but the impression I am getting is that this is something being done with al-Qaeda's approval,\" said Aymenn al-Tamimi, research fellow at the Middle East Forum, a US think-tank.\n\nTamimi said the split was likely driven by the threat of the new US-Russia agreement to target the group inside Syria and had been orchestrated with a local audience in mind.\n\n http://www.middleeasteye.net/news/nusra-front-split-al-qaeda-imminent-sources-claim-411085001\n\n\" **Kerry: US, Russia to cooperate against al Qaeda in Syria\", July 2016**\n\n1-3 Paragraphs\n\nSecretary of State John Kerry said Friday that the U.S. and Russia had agreed to cooperate in Syria against the al Nusra Front, al Qaeda's Syrian branch, in an effort to \"restore the cessation of hostilities, significantly reduce the violence and help create the space for a genuine and credible political transition\" in Syria.\n\nBut Kerry, appearing alongside Russian Foreign Minister Sergey Lavrov in Moscow, declined to provide details of the cooperation, saying \"the concrete steps that we have agreed on are not going to be laid out in public in some long list because we want them to work.\"\n\nProposals to deepen military cooperation with Russia in Syria have sparked a rift at the highest levels of the Obama administration, with the Pentagon openly challenging the idea that Russia could be trusted to uphold its end of the bargain.\n\n7 Paragraph\n\nThe agreement does not necessarily pertain to ISIS, with the draft saying that each country would reserve the right to strike ISIS independently.\n\n http://edition.cnn.com/2016/07/15/politics/kerry-us-russia-syria-al-nusra/\n\n\" **New Russian Air Defenses in Syria Keep U.S. Grounded\", December 2015**\n\n2\n\nRussia's military operations inside Syria have been expanding in recent weeks, and the latest Russian deployments, made without any advance notice to the U.S., have disrupted the U.S.-led coalition's efforts to support Syrian rebel forces fighting against the Islamic State near the Turkey-Syria border, just west of the Euphrates River, several Obama administration and U.S. defense officials told us. This crucial part of the battlefield, known inside the military as Box 4, is where a number of groups have been fighting the Islamic State for control, until recently with overhead support from U.S. fighter jets.\n\n5\n\n\"The increasing number of Russian-supplied advanced air defense systems in Syria, including SA-17s, is another example that Russia and the regime seek to complicate the global counter-Daesh coalition's air campaign,\" said Major Tim Smith, using another term for the Islamic State.\n\nThe increasing number of Russian air defense systems further complicate an already difficult situation over the skies in Syria, and do nothing to advance the fight against the Islamic State, which has no air force, Smith said. He added that Russia could instead be using its influence with the regime to press President Bashar al-Assad to cease attacking civilians. \"Unhelpful actions by Russia and the Syrian regime will not stop coalition counter-Daesh operations in Syria, nor will such actions push the coalition away from specific regions in Syria where Daesh is operating,\" said Smith.\n\n8, 9\n\nIn Washington, top officials are debating how to respond to Russia's expanded air defenses, said another administration official who was not authorized to discuss internal deliberations. The administration could decide to resume flights in support of the rebels fight Islamic State, but that could risk a deadly incident with the Russian military. For now, the U.S. seems to be acquiescing to Russia's effort to keep American manned planes out of the sky there and \"agree to their rules of the game,\" the administration official said.\n\nWith U.S. planes out of the way, Russia has stepped up its own airstrikes along the Turkey-Syria border, and the Obama administration has accused it of targeting the rebel groups the U.S. was supporting, not the Islamic State. The Russian strikes are also targeting commercial vehicles passing from Turkey into Syria, the administration official told us. The Washington Post reported that the Russian strikes have resulted in a halt of humanitarian aid from Turkey as well.\n\n http://www.bloomberg.com/view/articles/2015-12-17/new-russian-air-defenses-in-syria-keep-u-s-grounded\n\n\" **Russia, Turkey and the rise of the Islamic State\", December 2015**\n\nTurkey concluded its biggest investigation to date into Islamic State (IS) operatives on its territory on Friday, and blacklisted 67 people. This provides a good moment to review what Turkey's role has been in the rise of IS, especially amid the escalating accusations from Russia that Turkey is significantly responsible for financing IS. The reality is that while Turkish policy has, by commission and omission, made IS stronger than it would otherwise have been, so has Russia's policy - and Russia's policy is far more cynical than Turkey's, deliberately intended to empower extremists to discredit the rebellion against Bashar al-Assad.\n\nTurkey's focus on bringing down Assad and Ankara's fear of Kurdish autonomy led it into these policies, and now, having seemingly found the will to act to uproot IS's infrastructure on Turkish territory, there is the problem of actually doing so, when IS can (and has) struck inside Turkey. The concerns about these external funding mechanisms for IS, while doubtless important, obscure the larger problem: IS's revenue is overwhelmingly drawn from the areas it controls and only removing those areas of control can deny IS its funds.\n\nTurkey shot down a Russian jet on 24 November, the first time since 1952 a NATO member had brought down a Russian military aircraft. Ankara claimed that its airspace had been violated and that numerous requests to withdraw were ignored. The Russian plane landed in northern Syria: one pilot, Oleg Peshkov, was killed in the descent by the Turkoman rebels of Alwiya al-Ashar (The Tenth Brigade) and one, Konstantin Murakhtin, was later rescued. In the wake of this, Moscow took retribution with economic sanctions against Turkey, including limiting tourism and banning charter flights to Turkey and also trade in certain foodstuffs.\n\nRussia's ruler, Vladimir Putin, then raised the stakes on 30 November by accusing Turkey of perpetrating the shoot-down in order to protect IS, with which the Turkish government has commercial interests, notably oil but also weapons. Moscow subsequently accused Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan of being a personal profiteer from the criminal trade in oil with IS. The reality is quite otherwise, of course. As David Butter of Chatham House put it, given Turkey's reliance on Russia for energy, \"if oil was a consideration for the Turkish authorities... it would have had good reason to hold fire.\"\n\nRussia attempted to buttress its claims of an IS-Ankara oil trade by having its Ministry of Defence publish a map, among other \"evidence,\" purporting to show the three border crossings through which this trade takes place.\n\nThe problem is that not a single one of the border crossings is controlled by IS. Bab al-Hawa in Idlib is controlled by rebels at war with IS; Hasaka is controlled by a mix of the Kurdish Democratic Union Party (PYD) that Turkey is bombing inside Syria and the Assad regime; and Zakho is in Iraqi Kurdistan, where IS has been unable to penetrate. After forces led by the PYD, the Syrian branch of the PKK, pushed IS out of Tal Abyad in June, the only border crossing left solely to IS is Jarabulus.\n\nWorse, from Russia's perspective, Moscow's accusations against Turkey were not only untrue but had the feel of projection. IS sells nearly half of its oil to Russia's client, the Assad regime, through Russian businessmen, and Russian weapons bound for the regime are a \"top source\" of IS weaponry.\n\nRussia has also helped the Assad regime in its efforts to strengthen extremist forces to overpower the nationalist rebels, including by sending IS fighters from the Caucasus to the Fertile Crescent and most recently by preventing US air strikes against IS in northern Aleppo while bombing the rebels fighting against IS, essentially providing IS with air cover.\n\nThat said, it is true that Turkey has pursued policies that have strengthened IS, driven primarily by the desire to see Assad overthrown - and finding that the United States was effectively on the other side, Turkey had to go it alone. From 2011 until shortly after IS stormed into Mosul in mid-2014, Turkey maintained effectively an open border with Syria. Anecdotal reports abounded of visiblly foreign jihadi-Salafists heading for IS-held areas of Syria via Turkey being waved through customs.\n\nThere was a Turkish crackdown against IS later in 2014, with border crossings closed and some vetting taking place of who was crossing between Syria and Turkey; some would-be IS holy warriors were even arrested. Turkey, however, still has not closed down a 60-mile stretch of its 565-mile border with Syria that is held by IS.\n\nAnd the accusation that IS is - or at least, was - trading oil in Turkey is undoubtedly true. In October 2014, David Cohen, the US undersecretary for terrorism and financial intelligence, gave a speech in which he said: \"According to our information, as of last month, ISIL [IS] was selling oil at substantially discounted prices to a variety of middlemen, including some from Turkey, who then transported the oil to be resold.\n\n\"It also appears that some of the oil emanating from territory where ISIL operates has been sold to Kurds in Iraq, and then resold into Turkey. And in a further indication of the Assad regime's depravity, it seems the Syrian government has made an arrangement to purchase oil from ISIL.... We estimate that beginning in mid-June, ISIL has earned approximately $1 million a day from oil sales.\"\n\nThe evidence is that by late 2014 and early 2015, under the pressure of the US-led coalition airstrikes, IS's oil income was severely diminished. But IS's oil revenue appears to have crept back up later in 2015. Treasury sanctions at the end of September 2015 disclosed that Sami al-Jabouri, an Iraqi who had been IS's shari'a council chief and deputy in southern Mosul, was IS's supervisor of oil and gas, antiquities, and mineral resources operations beginning in April 2015.\n\nAt that time al-Jabouri had, in collaboration with Fathi at-Tunisi (Abu Sayyaf), IS's \"oil minister,\" \"worked to establish a new funding stream for ISIL from increased production at oil fields held by the organisation\" (italics added). It might well be that IS's oil income is now decreasing again: US military officials said at the beginning of December that over the previous 30 days, more than 40 percent of IS's income from oil had been \"affected\".\n\nAs to official Turkish complicity in the IS oil trade, the first direct evidence that this had occurred came in May 2015 when at-Tunisi was struck down by a US Special Forces raid, and captured data provided some details:\n\n\"[At-Tunisi] was almost unheard of outside the upper echelons of the terror group, but he was well known to Turkey. From mid-2013, the Tunisian fighter had been responsible for smuggling oil from Syria's eastern fields... and Turkish buyers were its main clients.... One senior Western official familiar with the intelligence gathered at the slain leader's compound said that direct dealings between Turkish officials and ranking Isis members was now 'undeniable'.\"\n\n\"There are hundreds of flash drives and documents that were seized there,\" the official told the Observer. \"They are being analysed at the moment, but the links are already so clear that they could end up having profound policy implications for the relationship between us and Ankara.\"\n\nStill, whatever was previously the case, the current level of oil transactions between IS and people even in Turkey is believed to be minimal, not least because IS's ability to refine fuel has been reduced by the air strikes and there is little market for crude oil in Turkey. There is also the fact, though, that Turkey has \"clamped down on key supply routes\" to IS:\n\n\"Long before Islamic State took root in Iraq and Syria, local smugglers ferried oil, gas and other supplies in and out of Turkey.... For a small cut of the action... poorly paid border officials in the region sometimes looked the other way. But... Turkey started stepping up its campaign against oil smuggling from Syria in 2012... In 2014, according to Turkish government officials, efforts intensified... The operations 'suffocated the illegal fuel trade,' said one official in the Hatay provincial governor's office....\"\n\n\"Turkey has doubled the number of troops on the Syrian border to 20,000, erected hundreds of miles of razor-wire fencing, installed powerful floodlights and dedicated 90% of its drone flights to border surveillance, according to one Turkish government official.... \"It's like the US-Mexican border, where, despite America's war on drugs and all its preventative enforcement, narcotics from Mexico continue to enter the country,\" the Turkish government official said....\n\n\"US officials dismissed Mr Putin's allegations that Turkey was backing Islamic State... as unfounded.... One former US government official who worked with Turkey on efforts against Islamic State also challenged the Russian claims. 'We knew that there was illicit oil smuggling activity along the Turkish border, but Turkey was actively seeking to contain the smuggling,' the official said.\"\n\nThere had been and to an extent remains a question about Turkey's willingness to challenge IS's operations on its soil given IS's boasted-of capacity to inflict \"civil and economic chaos\" inside Turkey, something that need not be doubted given the precarious state of sectarian relations in Turkey for many years. With Turkey's need for tourist dollars and its government relying on economic growth for legitimacy as it imposes some ugly authoritarian strictures, this was a serious threat.\n\nNot all of this can be blamed on Turkey's recent policies - some of the networks IS is using to smuggle oil across borders date back to the Saddam Hussein regime's effort to evade the sanctions \\- but it is clear that Turkey has laid the foundations for what would be called, if it happened to Westerners, \"blowback\".\n\nWell-placed Western observers have worried about the \"level of... support\" for IS among the Syrian refugees in Turkey, and Syrian rebels at war with IS have noted that IS \"has many spies... in Turkey, and not just spies but killers\". The full force of that fact was brought home at the end of October when an IS spy who had infiltrated Raqqa Is Being Slaughtered Silently (RBSS), the activist group working in IS-held areas to expose the caliphate's crimes, murdered two RBSS journalists, Fares Hammadi and Ibrahim Abd al-Qader, in Turkey.\n\nThe IS terrorist strikes - the 6 January suicide bombing in Istanbul, which \"only\" killed one person; the 5 June bomb attack on the Kurdish rally in Diyarbakir that murdered four people; the bombing of the largely Kurdish peace rally in Suruc on 20 July in which 33 people perished; and finally the bombing at the Ankara railway station on 10 October that massacred 102 people, essentially Turkey's 9/11 - do seem to have stiffened Turkish resolve. When Turkey concluded its investigation two days ago, it is notable that of the three named major IS agents operating on Turkish soil, two had already been arrested.\n\nHalis Bayancuk (Abu Hanzala), a senior IS leader based in Istanbul, was rounded up in late July, and Asaad Khelifalkhadr (Abu Suhayf), a key provider of logistics and supplies to IS foreign fighters arriving in Turkey, had also been taken into custody (admittedly on charges related to his fake passport rather than terrorism, though this seems to be more an Anatolian Al Capone strategy than Turkey soft-peddling the criminal case against Khelifalkhadr.)\n\nThe man still at large, Ilyas Aydin, is undoubtedly more important than the other two - he is IS's leader in Turkey - but one has to assume he got the position on some kind of merit, so it is hardly surprising he should have proven more elusive. Dismantling the networks IS established inside Turkey while the government effectively turned a blind eye will be a massive undertaking, even with the will to do so.\n\nAs the conflict has worn on, another fact has become salient: Turkey fears the internal effects of a Kurdish State on its border more than the caliphate. The Turks joined the anti-IS coalition in August, but it quickly became apparent that Turkey's primary goal was constraining the PYD/PKK, against which the majority of its force was targeted.\n\nAnkara had been spooked by the PYD linking up their Jazira canton with Kobani in June by punching across northern Raqqa Province, and has made clear that any effort by the PYD to move west of the Euphrates River and connect with the Efrin canton will trigger a direct military response. One of IS's great survival skills has been to make itself an enemy of everybody and priority of nobody.\n\nSome of the most serious accusations against Turkey to date are of direct support, in the form of weaponry supplied by Turkish intelligence, to Jabhat al-Nusra (al-Qaeda in Syria). Turkey's support has helped make Ahrar a-Sham, the most extreme majority-Syrian insurgent group that has links to al-Qaeda, one of the most powerful forces in northern Syria. Turkey has not been coy about this.\n\nDuring an effort to construct a unified list of vetted insurgents, the US used a colour code: green (trusted allies), red (enemies), and yellow (those somewhere in the middle). America put Nusra and Ahrar in the red category; Ankara put Nusra and Ahrar in the yellow category, \"gambling that they could build a moderate rebel force by nudging groups in the middle toward the green, friendly category\".\n\nDespite American protestations, \"We ultimately had no choice but to agree to disagree,\" said Francis Ricciardone, the US ambassador to Turkey until August 2014. Moreover, since the formation earlier this year of Jaysh al-Fatah, an insurgent coalition that includes both Nusra and Ahrar, Turkey has openly provided it support. In short, Turkey's government has a deeply problematic view of the insurgent landscape in Syria, quite apart from its view of and policies toward IS.\n\nSo Turkey has played an unhelpful role in IS's rise. But the problem with saying that Turkey - or Saudi Arabia, or Qatar - is really behind IS is not just distortion; it's intellectual laziness. The wish is father to the thought; if IS is just being bankrolled by some nefarious foreign actor, then the solution is simply to shut down the funding and watch IS wither. Unfortunately, defeating IS will not be that simple.\n\nSmuggling to the outside world, including through Turkey, of oil and antiquities, has been important, as has been the importation of foreign fighters, who have no social connections to the local areas and thus no compunction in obeying orders to commit the most appalling atrocities that help to suppress any inkling the population might have to revolt. The foreigners are largely unskilled and get used as suicide bombers and cannon fodder, but as Stalin noted: quantity has a quality all its own.\n\nAnd there really are underexplored areas of IS's finances. Nibras Kazimi had a very interesting investigative report recently on the possible earnings IS was receiving from money laundering through Iraq's banking system - a revenue stream in amounts to dwarf anything being talked about from oil - and the unwillingness of the Iraqi political class to tackle this because unravelling IS's holdings would unravel everybody else's and potentially leave people vulnerable to charges of funding terrorism.\n\nThere is also the problem that Iran, the real power behind the throne in Baghdad, uses the same system to help finance its own operations, notably the war against the Syrian population.\n\nBut, helpful as all these revenue streams are, focus on them obscures the self-sustaining nature of IS's statelet.\n\nIn terms of weapons, IS has gained some weapons from careless shipments to the Syrian rebels and even confiscated some weapons from rebels, but these are negligible. IS's weapons are largely taken from the Iraqi military, as well as from the Assad regime directly and the above-mentioned Russian and Iranian weapons shipments to the regime.\n\nThere is no credible evidence that Saudi Arabia has ever funded IS - nor Qatar, come to that, despite the clear funding Doha provides to Hamas and Ahrar, and the deniable mechanisms Qatar at least has operated in letting supplies get to Nusra.\n\nForeign donors do contribute to IS, but the amount they contribute has never mattered: between 2005 and 2010 - which includes the period when IS was at its absolute nadir, driven from controlling any territory, forced underground, and its leadership shattered - documents show that IS never received more than five percent of its budget from abroad. IS has only gained in strength since then, gathering to itself the real source of its wealth: captive populations.\n\nThe population over which IS's 80,000-square-mile statelet rules is estimated at around 10 million. The extraction of zakat from the population and a sophisticated system of \"taxes\" \\- extortion - charges the population on everything from agricultural profits and livestock to the jizya (poll tax) against non-Muslims and the confiscation of property and assets of people marked as IS's enemies.\n\nDestroying the caliphate's finances, effectively and sustainably, means denying it control of territory. Any other conclusion is an attempt to circumvent the difficult task of finding a way to roll back IS's territorial control.\n\n http://www.middleeasteye.net/essays/russia-turkey-and-rise-1639783717\n\n\" **The Terror Strategist: Secret Files Reveal the Structure of Islamic State\",April 2015**\n\n1 , 2, 3\n\nSamir Abd Muhammad al-Khlifawi was the real name of the Iraqi, whose bony features were softened by a white beard. But no one knew him by that name. Even his best-known pseudonym, Haji Bakr, wasn't widely known. But that was precisely part of the plan. The former colonel in the intelligence service of Saddam Hussein's air defense force had been secretly pulling the strings at IS for years. Former members of the group had repeatedly mentioned him as one of its leading figures. Still, it was never clear what exactly his role was.\n\nBut when the architect of the Islamic State died, he left something behind that he had intended to keep strictly confidential: the blueprint for this state. It is a folder full of handwritten organizational charts, lists and schedules, which describe how a country can be gradually subjugated. SPIEGEL has gained exclusive access to the 31 pages, some consisting of several pages pasted together. They reveal a multilayered composition and directives for action, some already tested and others newly devised for the anarchical situation in Syria's rebel-held territories. In a sense, the documents are the source code of the most successful terrorist army in recent history.\n\n5\n\nFor the first time, the Haji Bakr documents now make it possible to reach conclusions on how the IS leadership is organized and what role former officials in the government of ex-dictator Saddam Hussein play in it. Above all, however, they show how the takeover in northern Syria was planned, making the group's later advances into Iraq possible in the first place. In addition, months of research undertaken by SPIEGEL in Syria, as well as other newly discovered records, exclusive to SPIEGEL, show that Haji Bakr's instructions were carried out meticulously.\n\n8\n\nThe story of this collection of documents begins at a time when few had yet heard of the \"Islamic State.\" When Iraqi national Haji Bakr traveled to Syria as part of a tiny advance party in late 2012, he had a seemingly absurd plan: IS would capture as much territory as possible in Syria. Then, using Syria as a beachhead, it would invade Iraq.\n\n21\n\nIt seemed as if George Orwell had been the model for this spawn of paranoid surveillance. But it was much simpler than that. Bakr was merely modifying what he had learned in the past: Saddam Hussein's omnipresent security apparatus, in which no one, not even generals in the intelligence service, could be certain they weren't being spied on.\n\n24 , 25 , 26\n\nIn 2010, Bakr and a small group of former Iraqi intelligence officers made Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi, the emir and later \"caliph,\" the official leader of the Islamic State. They reasoned that Baghdadi, an educated cleric, would give the group a religious face.\n\nBakr was \"a nationalist, not an Islamist,\" says Iraqi journalist Hisham al-Hashimi, as he recalls the former career officer, who was stationed with Hashimi's cousin at the Habbaniya Air Base. \"Colonel Samir,\" as Hashimi calls him, \"was highly intelligent, firm and an excellent logistician.\" But when Paul Bremer, then head of the US occupational authority in Baghdad, \"dissolved the army by decree in May 2003, he was bitter and unemployed.\"\n\nThousands of well-trained Sunni officers were robbed of their livelihood with the stroke of a pen. In doing so, America created its most bitter and intelligent enemies. Bakr went underground and met Abu Musab al-Zarqawi in Anbar Province in western Iraq. Zarqawi, a Jordanian by birth, had previously run a training camp for international terrorist pilgrims in Afghanistan. Starting in 2003, he gained global notoriety as the mastermind of attacks against the United Nations, US troops and Shiite Muslims. He was even too radical for former Al-Qaida leader Osama bin Laden. Zarqawi died in a US air strike in 2006.\n\n28 , 29 , 30\n\nBakr gradually became one of the military leaders in Iraq, and he was held from 2006 to 2008 in the US military's Camp Bucca and Abu Ghraib Prison. He survived the waves of arrests and killings by American and Iraqi special units, which threatened the very existence of the IS precursor organization in 2010, Islamic State in Iraq.\n\nFor Bakr and a number of former high-ranking officers, this presented an opportunity to seize power in a significantly smaller circle of jihadists. They utilized the time they shared in Camp Bucca to establish a large network of contacts. But the top leaders had already known each other for a long time. Haji Bakr and an additional officer were part of the tiny secret-service unit attached to the anti-aircraft division. Two other IS leaders were from a small community of Sunni Turkmen in the town of Tal Afar. One of them was a high-ranking intelligence officer as well.\n\nIn 2010, the idea of trying to defeat Iraqi government forces militarily seemed futile. But a powerful underground organization took shape through acts of terror and protection rackets. When the uprising against the dictatorship of the Assad clan erupted in neighboring Syria, the organization's leaders sensed an opportunity. By late 2012, particularly in the north, the formerly omnipotent government forces had largely been defeated and expelled. Instead, there were now hundreds of local councils and rebel brigades, part of an anarchic mix that no one could keep track of. It was a state of vulnerability that the tightly organized group of ex-officers sought to exploit.\n\n42, 43\n\nTrue to Haji Bakr's plan, the phase of infiltration was followed by the elimination of every person who might have been a potential leader or opponent. The first person hit was the head of the city council, who was kidnapped in mid-May 2013 by masked men. The next person to disappear was the brother of a prominent novelist. Two days later, the man who had led the group that painted a revolutionary flag on the city walls vanished.\n\n\"We had an idea who kidnapped him,\" one of his friends explains, \"but no one dared any longer to do anything.\" The system of fear began to take hold. Starting in July, first dozens and then hundreds of people disappeared. Sometimes their bodies were found, but they usually disappeared without a trace. In August, the IS military leadership dispatched several cars driven by suicide bombers to the headquarters of the FSA brigade, the \"Grandsons of the Prophet,\" killing dozens of fighters and leading the rest to flee. The other rebels merely looked on. IS leadership had spun a web of secret deals with the brigades so that each thought it was only the others who might be the targets of IS attacks.\n\n47, 48\n\nUntil the end of 2013, everything was going according to Islamic State's plan -- or at least according to the plan of Haji Bakr. The caliphate was expanding village by village without being confronted by unified resistance from Syrian rebels. Indeed, the rebels seemed paralyzed in the face of IS' sinister power.\n\nBut when IS henchmen brutally tortured a well-liked rebel leader and doctor to death in December 2013, something unexpected happened. Across the country, Syrian brigades \\-- both secular and parts of the radical Nusra Front -- joined together to do battle with Islamic State. By attacking IS everywhere at the same time, they were able to rob the Islamists of their tactical advantage -- that of being able to rapidly move units to where they were most urgently needed.\n\n52, 53, 54, 55, 56\n\nHaji Bakr stayed behind in the small city of Tal Rifaat, where IS had long had the upper hand. But when rebels attacked at the end of January 2014, the city became divided within just a few hours. One half remained under IS control while the other was wrested away by one of the local brigades. Haji Bakr was stuck in the wrong half. Furthermore, in order to remain incognito he had refrained from moving into one of the heavily guarded IS military quarters. And so, the godfather of snitching was snitched on by a neighbor. \"A Daish sheik lives next door!\" the man called. A local commander named Abdelmalik Hadbe and his men drove over to Bakr's house. A woman jerked open the door and said brusquely: \"My husband isn't here.\"\n\nBut his car is parked out front, the rebels countered.\n\nAt that moment, Haji Bakr appeared at the door in his pajamas. Hadbe ordered him to come with them, whereupon Bakr protested that he wanted to get dressed. No, Hadbe repeated: \"Come with us! Immediately!\"\n\nSurprisingly nimbly for his age, Bakr jumped back and kicked the door closed, according to two people who witnessed the scene. He then hid under the stairs and yelled: \"I have a suicide belt! I'll blow up all of us!\" He then came out with a Kalashnikov and began shooting. Hadbe then fired his weapon and killed Bakr.\n\nWhen the men later learned who they had killed, they searched the house, gathering up computers, passports, mobile phone SIM cards, a GPS device and, most importantly, papers. They didn't find a Koran anywhere.\n\n58\n\nHaji Bakr's state continued to work even without its creator. Just how precisely his plans were implemented \\-- point by point -- is confirmed by the discovery of another file. When IS was forced to rapidly abandon its headquarters in Aleppo in January 2014, they tried to burn their archive, but they ran into a problem similar to that confronted by the East German secret police 25 years earlier: They had too many files.\n\n63, 64 , 65 , 66, 67, 68, 69\n\nBut in the first months of 2014, yet another legacy from Haji Bakr began playing a decisive role: His decade of contacts to Assad's intelligence services.\n\nIn 2003, the Damascus regime was panicked that then-US President George W. Bush, after his victory over Saddam Hussein, would have his troops continue into Syria to topple Assad as well. Thus, in the ensuing years, Syrian intelligence officials organized the transfer of thousands of radicals from Libya, Saudi Arabia and Tunisia to al-Qaida in Iraq. Ninety percent of the suicide attackers entered Iraq via the Syrian route. A strange relationship developed between Syrian generals, international jihadists and former Iraqi officers who had been loyal to Saddam -- a joint venture of deadly enemies, who met repeatedly to the west of Damascus.\n\nAt the time, the primary aim was to make the lives of the Americans in Iraq hell. Ten years later, Bashar Assad had a different motive to breathe new life into the alliance: He wanted to sell himself to the world as the lesser of several evils. Islamist terror, the more gruesome the better, was too important to leave it up to the terrorists. The regime's relationship with Islamic State is -- just as it was to its predecessor a decade prior -- marked by a completely tactical pragmatism. Both sides are trying to use the other in the assumption that it will emerge as the stronger power, able to defeat the discrete collaborator of yesterday. Conversely, IS leaders had no problem receiving assistance from Assad's air force, despite all of the group's pledges to annihilate the apostate Shiites. Starting in January 2014, Syrian jets would regularly -- and exclusively -- bomb rebel positions and headquarters during battles between IS and rebel groups.\n\nIn battles between IS and rebels in January 2014, Assad's jets regularly bombed only rebel positions, while the Islamic State emir ordered his fighters to refrain from shooting at the army. It was an arrangement that left many of the foreign fighters deeply disillusioned; they had imaged jihad differently.\n\nIS threw its entire arsenal at the rebels, sending more suicide bombers into their ranks in just a few weeks than it deployed during the entire previous year against the Syrian army. Thanks in part to additional air strikes, IS was able to reconquer territory that it had briefly lost.\n\nNothing symbolizes the tactical shifting of alliances more than the fate of the Syrian army's Division 17. The isolated base near Raqqa had been under rebel siege for more than a year. But then, IS units defeated the rebels there and Assad's air force was once again able to use the base for supply flights without fear of attack.\n\nBut a half year later, after IS conquered Mosul and took control of a gigantic weapons depot there, the jihadists felt powerful enough to attack their erstwhile helpers. IS fighters overran Division 17 and slaughtered the soldiers, whom they had only recently protected.\n\n72, 73, 74\n\nAbu Bakr al-Baghdadi may be the officially named leader, but it remains unclear how much power he holds. In any case, when an emissary of al-Qaida head Ayman al-Zawahiri contacted the Islamic State, it was Haji Bakr and other intelligence officers, and not al-Baghdadi, whom he approached. Afterwards, the emissary bemoaned \"these phony snakes who are betraying the real jihad.\"\n\nWithin IS, there are state structures, bureaucracy and authorities. But there is also a parallel command structure: elite units next to normal troops; additional commanders alongside nominal military head Omar al-Shishani; power brokers who transfer or demote provincial and town emirs or even make them disappear at will. Furthermore, decisions are not, as a rule, made in Shura Councils, nominally the highest decision-making body. Instead, they are being made by the \"people who loosen and bind\" (ahl al-hall wa-l-aqd), a clandestine circle whose name is taken from the Islam of medieval times.\n\nIslamic State is able to recognize all manner of internal revolts and stifle them. At the same time, the hermitic surveillance structure is also useful for the financial exploitation of its subjects.\n\n http://www.spiegel.de/international/world/islamic-state-files-show-structure-of-islamist-terror-group-a-1029274.html\n\n\" **The Short, Violent Life of Abu Musab al-Zarqawi\", 2006**\n\n1,2,3,4\n\nOn a cold and blustery evening in December 1989, Huthaifa Azzam, the teenage son of the legendary Jordanian-Palestinian mujahideen leader Sheikh Abdullah Azzam, went to the airport in Peshawar, Pakistan, to welcome a group of young men. All were new recruits, largely from Jordan, and they had come to fight in a fratricidal civil war in neighboring Afghanistan—an outgrowth of the CIA-financed jihad of the 1980s against the Soviet occupation there.\n\nThe men were scruffy, Huthaifa mused as he greeted them, and seemed hardly in battle-ready form. Some had just been released from prison; others were professors and sheikhs. None of them would prove worth remembering—except for a relatively short, squat man named Ahmad Fadhil Nazzal al-Khalaylah.\n\nHe would later rename himself Abu Musab al-Zarqawi.\n\nOnce one of the most wanted men in the world, for whose arrest the United States offered a $25 million reward, al-Zarqawi was a notoriously enigmatic figure—a man who was everywhere yet nowhere. I went to Jordan earlier this year, three months before he was killed by a U.S. airstrike in early June, to find out who he really was, and to try to understand the role he was playing in the anti-American insurgency in Iraq. I also hoped to get a sense of how his generation—the foreign fighters now waging jihad in Iraq—compare with the foreign fighters who twenty years ago waged jihad in Afghanistan.\n\n9\n\nAbu Musab al-Zarqawi, barely forty and barely literate, a Bedouin from the Bani Hassan tribe, was until recently almost unknown outside his native Jordan. Then, on February 5, 2003, Secretary of State Colin Powell catapulted him onto the world stage. In his address to the United Nations making the case for war in Iraq, Powell identified al-Zarqawi—mistakenly, as it turned out—as the crucial link between al-Qaeda and Saddam Hussein's regime. Subsequently, al-Zarqawi became a leading figure in the insurgency in Iraq—and in November of last year, he also brought his jihadist revolution back home, as the architect of three lethal hotel bombings in Amman. His notoriety grew with every atrocity he perpetrated, yet Western and Middle Eastern intelligence officials remained bedeviled by a simple question: Who was he? Was he al-Qaeda's point man in Iraq, as the Bush administration argued repeatedly? Or was he, as a retired Israeli intelligence official told me not long ago, a staunch rival of bin Laden's, whose importance the United States exaggerated in order to validate a link between al-Qaeda and pre-war Iraq, and to put a non-Iraqi face on a complex insurgency?\n\n16\n\nEveryone I spoke with readily acknowledged that as a teenager al-Zarqawi had been a bully and a thug, a bootlegger and a heavy drinker, and even, allegedly, a pimp in Zarqa's underworld. He was disruptive, constantly involved in brawls. When he was fifteen (according to his police record, about which I had been briefed in Amman), he participated in a robbery of a relative's home, during which the relative was killed. Two years later, a year shy of graduation, he had dropped out of school. Then, in 1989, at the age of twenty-three, he traveled to Afghanistan.\n\n22, 23, 24\n\n\"He was an ordinary guy, an ordinary fighter, and didn't really distinguish himself,\" Huthaifa Azzam said of al-Zarqawi's first time in Afghanistan. \"He was a quiet guy who didn't talk much. But he was brave. Zarqawi doesn't know the meaning of fear. He's been wounded five or six times in Afghanistan and Iraq. He seems to intentionally place himself in the middle of the most dangerous situations. He fought in the battles of Khost and Kardez and, in April 1992, witnessed the liberation of Kabul by the mujahideen. A lot of Arabs were great commanders during those years. Zarqawi was not. He also wasn't very religious during that time. In fact, he'd only 'returned' to Islam three months before coming to Afghanistan. It was the Tablighi Jamaat [a proselytizing missionary group spread across the Muslim world] who convinced him—he had thirty-seven criminal cases against him by then—that it was time to cleanse himself.\"\n\nA Jordanian counterterrorism official expanded on al-Zarqawi's time in Afghanistan for me. \"His second time in Afghanistan was far more important than the first. But the first was significant in two ways. Zarqawi was young and impressionable; he'd never been out of Jordan before, and now, for the first time, he was interacting with doctrinaire Islamists from across the Muslim world, most of them brought to Afghanistan by the CIA. It was also his first exposure to al-Qaeda. He didn't meet bin Laden, of course, but he trained in one of his and Abdullah Azzam's camps: the Sada camp near the Afghan border inside Pakistan. He trained under Abu Hafs al-Masri.\" (The reference was to the nom de guerre of Mohammed Atef, an Egyptian who was bin Laden's military chief and, until he was killed in an American air strike in Afghanistan in November 2001, the No. 3 official in al-Qaeda.)\n\nAbu Muntassir Bilah Muhammad is another jihadist who spent time fighting in Afghanistan and who would later become one of the co-founders of al-Zarqawi's first militant Islamist group. \"Zarqawi arrived in Afghanistan as a zero,\" he told me, \"a man with no career, just floundering about. He trained and fought and he came back to Jordan with ambitions and dreams: to carry the ideology of jihad. His first ambition was to reform Jordan, to set up an Islamist state. And there was a cachet involved in fighting in the jihad. Zarqawi returned to Jordan with newfound respect. It's not so much what Zarqawi did in the jihad—it's what the jihad did for him.\"\n\n26\n\nBut perhaps as important as anything else, it was in Afghanistan that al-Zarqawi was introduced to Sheikh Abu Muhammad al-Maqdisi (whose real name is Isam Muhammad Tahir al-Barqawi), a revered and militant Salafist cleric who had moved to Zarqa following the mass expulsion of Palestinians from Kuwait in the aftermath of the Gulf War. The Salafiya movement originated in Egypt, at the end of the nineteenth century, as a modernist Sunni reform movement, the aim of which was to let the Muslim world rise to the challenges posed by Western science and political thought. But since the 1920s, it has evolved into a severely puritanical school of absolutist thought that is markedly anti-Western and based on a literal interpretation of the Koran. Today's most radical Salafists regard any departure from their own rigid principles of Islam to be heretical; their particular hatred of Shiites—who broke with the Sunnis in 632 A.D. over the question of succession to the Prophet Muhammad, and who now constitute the majority in Iran and Iraq—is visceral. Over the years, al-Maqdisi embraced the most extreme school of Salafism, closely akin to the puritanical Wahhabism of Saudi Arabia, and in the early 1980s he published The Creed of Abraham, the single most important source of teachings for Salafist movements around the world. Al-Maqdisi would become al-Zarqawi's ideological mentor and most profound influence.\n\n28, 29\n\nAl-Zarqawi and al-Maqdisi left Afghanistan in 1993 and returned to Jordan. They found it much changed. In their absence the Jordanians and the Israelis had begun negotiations that would lead to the signing of a peace treaty in 1994; the Palestinians had signed the Oslo Accords of 1993; and the Iraqis had lost the Gulf War. Unemployment was up sharply, the result of a privatization drive agreed to with the International Monetary Fund, and Jordanians were frustrated and angry. The Muslim Brotherhood—the kingdom's only viable opposition political force, which had agreed to support King Hussein in exchange for being allowed to participate in public and parliamentary life—appeared unable to cope with the rising disaffection. Small underground Islamist groups had therefore begun to appear, composed largely of men who had fought in the Afghan jihad, and who were guided by the increasingly loud voices of militant clerics who felt the Muslim Brotherhood had been co-opted by the state.\n\nAfter the two men returned home, al-Maqdisi toured the kingdom, preaching and recruiting, and al-Zarqawi sought out Abu Muntassir, who had already acquired a standing among Islamic militants in Jordan. \"We talked a lot, over a couple of days,\" Abu Muntassir told me. \"He was still pretty much a novice, but very willing, very able, and keen to learn about Islam. I was teaching geography at the time in a government school, so it was easy for me to teach Islam as well. After some time, Zarqawi asked me to work with him in an Islamic group; al-Maqdisi was already on board. The idea was there, but it had no leadership and no name. First we called it al-Tawhid, then changed the name to Bayat al-Imam [Allegiance to the Imam]. We were small but enthusiastic—a dozen or so men. Our primary objective, of course, was to overthrow the monarchy and establish an Islamic government.\"\n\n31, 32,33\n\nIn another botched operation, al-Maqdisi (according to court testimony that he denied) gave al-Zarqawi seven grenades he had smuggled into Jordan, and al-Zarqawi hid them in the cellar of his family's home. Al-Maqdisi was already under surveillance by Jordan's intelligence service by that time, because of his growing popularity. The grenades were quickly discovered, and the two men, along with a number of their followers, found themselves for the first time before a state security court. Al-Zarqawi told the court that he had found the grenades while walking down the street. The judges were not amused. They convicted him and al-Maqdisi of possessing illegal weapons and belonging to a banned organization. In 1994, al-Zarqawi was sentenced to fifteen years in prison. He would flourish there.\n\nSwaqa prison sits on the southern desert's edge, sixty miles south of Amman, and its political prisoners, both Islamist and secular, are housed in four wings. Al-Zarqawi embraced prison life in the extreme—as he appears to have embraced everything. According to fellow inmates of his with whom I spoke, his primary obsessions were recruiting other prisoners to his cause, building his body, and, under the tutelage of al-Maqdisi, memorizing the 6,236 verses of the Koran. He was stern, tough, and unrelenting on anything that he considered to be an infraction of his rules, yet he was often seen in the prison courtyard crying as he read the Koran.\n\nHe was fastidious about his appearance in prison—his beard and moustache were always cosmetically groomed—and he wore only Afghan dress: the shalwar kameez and a rolled-brim, woolen Pashtun cap. One former inmate who served time with him told me that al-Zarqawi sauntered through the prison ward like a \"peacock.\" Islamists flocked to him. He attracted recruits; some joined him out of fascination, others out of curiosity, and still others out of fear. In a short time, he had organized prison life at Swaqa like a gang leader.\n\n36\n\nWhen Abu Rumman entered Swaqa, al-Zarqawi was in isolation following a prison brawl. \"It was quite extraordinary,\" Abu Rumman said. \"My first glimpse of Zarqawi was when he was released. He returned to the ward as a hero surrounded by his own bodyguards. Everyone began to shout: Allahu Akhbar! By that time Zarqawi was already called the 'emir,' or 'prince.' He had an uncanny ability to control, almost to hypnotize; he could order his followers to do things just by moving his eyes.\"\n\n41, 42, 43\n\nIn 1998, three or four of al-Zarqawi's tracts were posted on the Internet, after heavy editing. Soon they came to the attention of Osama bin Laden, in Afghanistan. It was the first time he had ever heard of al-Zarqawi.\n\nIn May of the following year, Jordan's King Abdullah II—newly enthroned after the death of his father, King Hussein—declared a general amnesty, and al-Zarqawi was released from Swaqa. He had made effective use of his time there. As he had done nearly a decade before—when he befriended wealthy Saudi jihadists in Khost—he had expanded his reach and his appeal during his prison years. Among the fellow inmates he had converted to Salafism and brought into the Bayat al-Imam were a substantial number of prisoners from Iraq.\n\nAfter returning for a few months to Zarqa, al-Zarqawi left again and traveled to Pakistan. He may or may not have known that Jordan was about to declare him a suspect in a series of foiled terrorist attacks intended for New Year's Eve of 1999. The plan, which became known as the \"Millennium Plot,\" involved the bombing of Christian landmarks and other tourist sites, along with the Radisson Hotel in Amman. Had it succeeded, it would have been al-Zarqawi's first involvement in a major terrorist attack.\n\n45 , 46, 47,48,49\n\nIn December 1999, al-Zarqawi crossed the border into Afghanistan, and later that month he and bin Laden met at the Government Guest House in the southern city of Kandahar, the de facto capital of the ruling Taliban. As they sat facing each other across the receiving room, a former Israeli intelligence official told me, \"it was loathing at first sight.\"\n\nAccording to several different accounts of the meeting, bin Laden distrusted and disliked al-Zarqawi immediately. He suspected that the group of Jordanian prisoners with whom al-Zarqawi had been granted amnesty earlier in the year had been infiltrated by Jordanian intelligence; something similar had occurred not long before with a Jordanian jihadist cell that had come to Afghanistan. Bin Laden also disliked al-Zarqawi's swagger and the green tattoos on his left hand, which he reportedly considered un-Islamic. Al-Zarqawi came across to bin Laden as aggressively ambitious, abrasive, and overbearing. His hatred of Shiites also seemed to bin Laden to be potentially divisive—which, of course, it was. (Bin Laden's mother, to whom he remains close, is a Shiite, from the Alawites of Syria.)\n\nAl-Zarqawi would not recant, even in the presence of the legendary head of al-Qaeda. \"Shiites should be executed,\" he reportedly declared. He also took exception to bin Laden's providing Arab fighters to the Taliban, the fundamentalist student militia that, although now in power, was still battling the Northern Alliance, which controlled some 10 percent of Afghanistan. Muslim killing Muslim was un-Islamic, al-Zarqawi is reported to have said.\n\nUnaccustomed to such direct criticism, the leader of al-Qaeda was aghast.\n\nHad Saif al-Adel—now bin Laden's military chief—not intervened, history might be written very differently.\n\nA former Egyptian army colonel who had trained in special operations, al-Adel was then al-Qaeda's chief of security and a prominent voice in an emerging debate gripping the militant Islamist world. Who should the primary target be—the \"near enemy\" (the Muslim world's \"un-Islamic\" regimes) or the \"far enemy\" (primarily Israel and the United States)? Al-Zarqawi was a near-enemy advocate, and although his obsession remained the overthrow of the Jordanian monarchy, he had expanded his horizons slightly during his prison years and had now begun to focus on the area known as al-Sham, or the Levant, which includes Jordan, Syria, Lebanon, and historic Palestine. As an Egyptian who had attempted to overthrow his own country's army-backed regime, al-Adel saw merit in al-Zarqawi's views. Thus, after a good deal of debate within al-Qaeda, it was agreed that al-Zarqawi would be given $5,000 or so in \"seed money\" to set up his own training camp outside the western Afghan city of Herat, near the Iranian border. It was about as far away as he could be from bin Laden.\n\nSaif al-Adel was designated the middleman.\n\nIn early 2000, with a dozen or so followers who had arrived from Peshawar and Amman, al-Zarqawi set out for the western desert encircling Herat. His goal: to build an army that he could export to anywhere in the world. Al-Adel paid monthly visits to al-Zarqawi's training camp; later, on his Web site, he would write that he was amazed at what he saw there. The number of al-Zarqawi's fighters multiplied from dozens to hundreds during the following year, and by the time the forces evacuated their camp, prior to the U.S. air strikes of October 200l, the fighters and their families numbered some 2,000 to 3,000. According to al-Adel, the wives of al-Zarqawi's followers served lavish Levantine cuisine in the camp.\n\nIt was in Herat that al-Zarqawi formed the militant organization Jund al-Sham, or Soldiers of the Levant. His key operational lieutenants were mainly Syrians—most of whom had fought in the Afghan jihad, and many of whom belonged to their country's banned Muslim Brotherhood. The Brotherhood's exiled leadership, which is largely based in Europe, was immensely important in recruiting for the Herat camp, although whether it also supplied funds remains under debate. What is clear, however, is that al-Zarqawi's closest aide, a Syrian from the city of Hama named Sulayman Khalid Darwish—or Abu al-Ghadiyah—was considered to be, until his death last summer on the Iraqi-Syrian frontier, one of al-Zarqawi's most likely successors.\n\n53, 54 ,55 , 56, 57, 58 , 59\n\nAt least five times, in 2000 and 2001, bin Laden called al-Zarqawi to come to Kandahar and pay bayat—take an oath of allegiance—to him. Each time, al-Zarqawi refused. Under no circumstances did he want to become involved in the battle between the Northern Alliance and the Taliban. He also did not believe that either bin Laden or the Taliban was serious enough about jihad.\n\nWhen the United States launched its air war inside Afghanistan, on October 7, 2001, al-Zarqawi joined forces with al-Qaeda and the Taliban for the first time. He and his Jund al-Sham fought in and around Herat and Kandahar. Al-Zarqawi was wounded in an American air strike—not in the leg, as U.S. officials claimed for two years, but in the chest, when the ceiling of the building in which he was operating collapsed on him. Neither did he join Osama bin Laden in the eastern mountains of Tora Bora, as U.S. officials have also said. Bin Laden took only his most trusted fighters to Tora Bora, and al-Zarqawi was not one of them.\n\nIn December 2001, accompanied by some 300 fighters from Jund al-Sham, al-Zarqawi left Afghanistan once again, and entered Iran.\n\nDuring the next fourteen months, al-Zarqawi based himself primarily in Iran and in the autonomous area of Kurdistan, in northern Iraq, traveling from time to time to Syria and to the Ayn al-Hilwah Palestinian refugee camp in the south of Lebanon—a camp that, according to the former Jordanian intelligence official, became his main recruiting ground. More often, however, al-Zarqawi traveled to the Sunni Triangle of Iraq. He expanded his network, recruited and trained new fighters, and set up bases, safe houses, and military training camps. In Iran, he was reunited with Saif al-Adel—who encouraged him to go to Iraq and provided contacts there—and for a time, al-Zarqawi stayed at a farm belonging to the fiercely anti-American Afghan jihad leader Gulbaddin Hekmatyar. In Kurdistan he lived and worked with the separatist militant Islamist group Ansar al-Islam, ironically in an area protected as part of the \"no-fly\" zone imposed on Saddam Hussein by Washington.\n\nOne can only imagine how astonished al-Zarqawi must have been when Colin Powell named him as the crucial link between al-Qaeda and Saddam Hussein's regime. He was not even officially a part of al-Qaeda, and ever since he had left Afghanistan, his links had been not to Iraq but to Iran.\n\n\"We know Zarqawi better than he knows himself,\" the high-level Jordanian intelligence official said. \"And I can assure you that he never had any links to Saddam. Iran is quite a different matter. The Iranians have a policy: they want to control Iraq. And part of this policy has been to support Zarqawi, tactically but not strategically.\"\n\n\"In the beginning they gave him automatic weapons, uniforms, military equipment, when he was with the army of Ansar al-Islam. Now they essentially just turn a blind eye to his activities, and to those of al-Qaeda generally. The Iranians see Iraq as a fight against the Americans, and overall, they'll get rid of Zarqawi and all of his people once the Americans are out.\"\n\nIn the summer of 2003, three months after the American invasion, al-Zarqawi moved to the Sunni areas of Iraq. He became infamous almost at once. On August 7, he allegedly carried out a car-bomb attack at the Jordanian embassy in Baghdad. Twelve days later, he was linked to the bombing of the United Nations headquarters, in which twenty-two people died. And on August 29, in what was then the deadliest attack of the war, he engineered the killing of over a hundred people, including a revered cleric, the Ayatollah Muhammad Baqr al-Hakim, in a car bombing outside Shia Islam's holy shrine in Najaf. The suicide bomber in that attack was Yassin Jarad, from Zarqa. He was al-Zarqawi's father-in-law.\n\n63\n\nOf course, no one did more to cultivate that image than al-Zarqawi himself. He committed some of the deadliest attacks in Iraq, though they still represent only some 10 percent of the country's total number of attacks. In May 2004, he inaugurated his notorious wave of hostage beheadings; he also specialized in suicide and truck bombings of Shiite shrines and mosques, largely in Shiite neighborhoods. His primary aim was to provoke a civil war. \"If we succeed in dragging [the Shia] into a sectarian war,\" he purportedly wrote in a letter intercepted by U.S. forces and released in February 2004, \"this will awaken the sleepy Sunnis who are fearful of destruction and death at the hands of the Shia.\" (The authenticity of the letter came into question almost immediately.)\n\n65, 66, 67 , 68 69\n\nRegardless of his growing notoriety in Iraq, al-Zarqawi never lost sight of his ultimate goal: the overthrow of the Jordanian monarchy. His efforts to foment unrest in Jordan included the 2002 assassination of the U.S. diplomat Lawrence Foley, and, on a far larger scale, a disrupted plot in 2004 to bomb the headquarters of the Jordanian intelligence services—a scheme that, according to Jordanian officials, would have entailed the use of trucks packed with enough chemicals and explosives to kill some 80,000 people. Once it was uncovered, al-Zarqawi immediately accepted responsibility for the plot, although he denied that chemical weapons would have been involved.\n\nLater that year, in October 2004, after resisting for nearly five years, al-Zarqawi finally paid bayat to Osama bin Laden—but only after eight months of often stormy negotiations. After doing so he proclaimed himself to be the \"Emir of al-Qaeda's Operations in the Land of Mesopotamia,\" a title that subordinated him to bin Laden but at the same time placed him firmly on the global stage. One explanation for this coming together of these two former antagonists was simple: al-Zarqawi profited from the al-Qaeda franchise, and bin Laden needed a presence in Iraq. Another explanation is more complex: bin Laden laid claim to al-Zarqawi in the hopes of forestalling his emergence as the single most important terrorist figure in the world, and al-Zarqawi accepted bin Laden's endorsement to augment his credibility and to strengthen his grip on the Iraqi tribes. Both explanations are true.\n\n\"From the beginning, Zarqawi has wanted to be independent, and he will continue to be,\" Oraib Rantawi, the director of the Al-Quds Center for Political Studies in Amman, said to me. \"Yes, he's gained stature through this alliance, but he only swore bayat after all this time because of growing pressure from Iraqis who were members of al-Qaeda. And even then he signed with conditions—that he would maintain control over Jund al-Sham and al-Tawhid, and that he would exert operational autonomy. His suicide bombings of the hotels in Amman\"—in which some sixty civilians died, many of them while attending a wedding celebration—\"was a huge tactical mistake. My understanding is that bin Laden was furious about it.\"\n\nThe attacks, which represented an expansion of al- Zarqawi's sophistication and reach, also showed his growing independence from the al-Qaeda chief. They came only thirteen months after he had sworn bayat. The alliance had already begun to fray.\n\nThe signs were visible as early as the summer of 2005. In a letter purportedly sent to al-Zarqawi in July from Ayman al-Zawahiri, the Egyptian surgeon who is bin Laden's designated heir, al-Zarqawi was chided about his tactics in Iraq. And although some experts have cast doubt on the letter's authenticity (it was released by the office of the U.S. Director of National Intelligence), few would dispute its message: namely, that al-Zarqawi's hostage beheadings, his mass slaughter of Shiites, and his assaults on their mosques were all having a negative effect on Muslim opinion—both of him and, by extension, of al-Qaeda—around the world. In one admonition, al-Zawahiri allegedly advised al-Zarqawi that a captive can be killed as easily by a bullet as by a knife.\n\n76\n\n\"Not at all,\" he replied. \"Zarqawi had the ambition to become what he has, but whatever happens, even if he becomes the most popular figure in Iraq, he can never go against the symbolism that bin Laden represents. If Zarqawi is captured or killed tomorrow, the Iraqi insurgency will go on. There is no such thing as 'Zarqawism.' What Zarqawi is will die with him. Bin Laden, on the other hand, is an ideological thinker. He created the concept of al-Qaeda and all of its offshoots. He feels he's achieved his goal.\" He paused for a moment, then said, \"Osama bin Laden is like Karl Marx. Both created an ideology. Marxism still flourished well after Marx's death. And whether bin Laden is killed, or simply dies of natural causes, al-Qaedaism will survive him.\"\n\n http://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2006/07/the-short-violent-life-of-abu-musab-al-zarqawi/304983/\n\n\" **Al-Qaeda could be preparing to launch own 'Islamic State' in Syria after exploiting world's focus on Isis\", 2016**\n\n1, 2, 3\n\nAl-Qaeda could be preparing to declare its own sovereign state in Syria after quietly gathering strength in the shadow of the international campaign against Isis, an analyst has warned.\n\nCharles Lister, a senior fellow at the Middle East Institute, said that after five years building its power base in the midst of the civil war leaders are moving to create a new \"Islamic emirate\".\n\nWriting in Foreign Policy magazine he said Jabhat al-Nusra \\- the al-Qaeda affiliate that was linked with Isis until a bitter split in 2013 - had been building local support and influence in its territories.\n\n14\n\nResearchers concluded that it had also been more successful than Isis in attracting impoverished and unemployed youths with the promise of security, education, structure and, most importantly, victory.\n\n http://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/middle-east/al-qaeda-could-be-preparing-to-launch-own-islamic-state-in-syria-after-exploiting-worlds-focus-on-a7015461.html\n\n\" **Qatar and ISIS Funding: The U.S. Approach\", 2014**\n\n1 to 4\n\nAmerica views its close ally, Qatar, as a terrorist funding trouble spot. Washington has gone so far as to call the small Persian Gulf state a permissive environment for financing terrorist groups.\n\nThe United States says it does not have evidence that the government of Qatar is funding the terrorist group now known as the Islamic State (ISIS). But it does believe that private individuals in Qatar are helping to finance this group and others like it. And it thinks the Gulf state is not doing enough to stop this.\n\nTo influence Qatar's policies, the United States has employed a carrot-and-stick approach. It heaps praise on its ally for developing new anti-terrorist financing regulations, while privately discouraging and sometimes publicly admonishing its support for terrorist organizations.\n\nYet the fundamental problem is that America's counterterrorism agenda sometimes conflicts with what Qatar perceives to be its own political interests. Qatar's security strategy has been to provide support to a wide range of regional and international groups in order to bolster its position at home and abroad. This strategy has involved generously supporting Islamist organizations, including militant ones like Hamas and the Taliban. Allowing private local fundraising for Islamist groups abroad forms part of this approach. Closing channels of support to militant Islamists -- i.e., what Washington would like Doha to do \\-- would be inimical to Qatar's basic approach to its own security.\n\n http://www.washingtoninstitute.org/policy-analysis/view/qatar-and-isis-funding-the-u.s.-approach\n\n\" **Sorry, America: Iran Won't Defeat ISIS for You\", 2015**\n\n1, 2 , 3 , 4, 5, 6\n\nISIS's persistence has led some analysts to conclude—most recently Harvard's Stephen Walt—that ISIS's \"state\" will be a long-term reality in the region and one that Washington may soon have to come to terms with. From developing its own currency to managing a system of governance and terror wrapped in ideological fervidity, the Islamic State certainly has shown its resilience, despite its morphing geography since it captured Mosul in the summer of 2014.\n\nSince the finalizing of the Iranian nuclear agreement, Iran has been touted in Washington in some policy circles as the best partner in fighting ISIS. Potential common interests between Washington and Tehran—as well as Iran's military capabilities—could make Tehran an effective ally in rolling back ISIS at a time when the United States is wary to commit to another ground war in the Middle East. This assessment has three substantial blind spots:\n\nFirst, Tehran's strategy in Syria and Iraq has been focused more on containing and managing ISIS than defeating it. This strategy is driven by different considerations in both countries. In Syria, ISIS is seen as an effective tool in both weakening the U.S.- and GCC-backed opposition militias and buttressing the argument that President Assad is a most amenable alternative in Syria. Iraq, on the other hand, presents a difficult balancing act for Tehran that consists of both managing ISIS as a security threat to Iran's heartland and Iraq's Shi'a communities and avoiding empowering Sunni communities to such a degree that they could later pose a credible challenge to Iran's influence in the Iraqi state. Tehran will prefer to keep Iraq unstable until its dominant influence is assured. Iran has been less than effective in pursuing this strategy as evidenced by its recent poor performance in Al Anbar Province and its difficult recapture of Tikrit in the spring.\n\nSecond, the best partners in defeating ISIS are Sunni Arab states and communities. ISIS's resilience in the region has been sustained both by the effective use of military tactics and organizational strategy, but also, by a deepening ideological resonance amongst disenfranchised Sunnis in communities worldwide from Afghanistan to the banlieues of Paris. Without a sustained buy-in from leading Sunni states on both the governmental level and on the civil-society level to counter ISIS's ideology, the Islamic State will continue to be a feature in the region's body politic. As a senior Gulf official once noted, the responsibility of defeating ISIS isn't an American or Iranian responsibility, but the responsibility of the Muslim community worldwide to reject this violence.\n\nThird, Iran's endgames in Iraq and Syria are in complete contrast to the United States' objectives. While Washington and Tehran may share a few common interests in weakening ISIS, Tehran is seeking to both push the United States out of the region and to curtail the influence of Saudi Arabia and the Gulf States. A political solution in Syria or Iraq, which gives the United States and the GCC a further foothold in these states, would be an outcome that Iran would vigorously oppose.\n\nWashington policymakers should be wary, then, of embracing Iran as such a partner as it considers recalibrating U.S. strategy in countering ISIS.\n\n http://nationalinterest.org/blog/sorry-america-iran-wont-defeat-isis-you-13407\n\nWhat ISIS Owes Iran, and Vice-Versa\n\n http://www.camera.org/index.asp?x_print=1&x_context=7&x_issue=94&x_article=3080\n\n\" **Bashar al-Assad and the Devil's Endgame\", 2015**\n\n2 , 3 , 4 , 5\n\nAssad's plan, it seems, is to deliberately aid the rise of ISIS—what I call the devil's gambit. The logic is simple and ruthless: radicalize the opposition so that the Syrian dictator looks like a lesser evil to domestic and foreign audiences. Here, Assad benefits from the inherently polarizing nature of civil war, as a cycle of atrocities and revenge pushes all sides to the extreme. He has further spurred radicalization by focusing the regime's fire on moderate enemies, while reportedly releasing jihadists from jail and purchasing oil from ISIS. In recent months, the Syrian military allegedly used air strikes to help ISIS advance toward the city of Aleppo. Khaled Khoja, a Syrian opposition leader, claimed that Assad's fighter jets were acting as \"an air force for ISIS.\"\n\nIn the widening gyre, the center cannot hold. Back in 2011, the relatively moderate Free Syrian Army seemed a plausible candidate to lead the resistance against Assad. Now the leading rebel factions include ISIS, the Islamic Front, and the al-Nusra Front, which is affiliated with al-Qaeda. The U.S. effort to train a moderate Syrian force has proved to be a pitiful and quixotic quest. After 10 months and millions of dollars, the United States has created a rebel army that is five strong. Not 5,000 strong, or 5 percent of the opposition. But literally five guys—barely enough to run a burger joint.\n\nThe tyrant and the terrorists have a symbiotic relationship. While ISIS rails against the secular regime, its focus is on building the caliphate, not getting rid of Assad. Meanwhile, ISIS's advance in Iraq in 2014 was a godsend for the Syrian regime. The insurgents headed away from Damascus. And the group's capture of the city of Mosul and much of Anbar province terrified the West. A reluctant Barack Obama could not accept the fall of Baghdad, and authorized extensive air strikes against ISIS.\n\nThe tyrant and the terrorists have a symbiotic relationship. While ISIS rails against the secular regime, its focus is on building the caliphate, not getting rid of Assad. Meanwhile, ISIS's advance in Iraq in 2014 was a godsend for the Syrian regime. The insurgents headed away from Damascus. And the group's capture of the city of Mosul and much of Anbar province terrified the West. A reluctant Barack Obama could not accept the fall of Baghdad, and authorized extensive air strikes against ISIS.\n\nFor both Western countries and Assad's Alawite constituency at home, the choice is stark: the devil you know, or a pack of rapacious demons. If Assad were to fall, the chief beneficiary would be the very Islamist forces that the United States is bombing. To be reminded of the dangers of toppling a dictator, U.S. officials need only look to Libya, where the overthrow of Muammar al-Qaddafi in 2011 led to anarchy. Assad is the TINA candidate: There is no alternative.\n\nThe devil's gambit, then, appears to have succeeded. The Obama administration has recently backed away from insisting that Assad must relinquish power, and signaled instead that the dictator could stay in power for a transitional period as part of a peace settlement.\n\nBut the key word here is \"appears.\" As with the pact between the Nazis and the Soviets in 1939, the partners in Syria's dance of death will happily stab each other when the moment is opportune.\n\n http://www.theatlantic.com/international/archive/2015/09/assad-syria-devil-endgame-putin-obama/407635/\n\n\" **Bashar al-Assad and the Devil's Gambit\", 2014**\n\n10 , 11, 12\n\nFor Assad, ISIS is priceless. The Sunni extremist boogeyman holds the key to his political survival. As ISIS continues its assault in Iraq, employing tactics that include beheadings, crucifixions, and systematic torture, Assad has cemented his alliance with Baghdad, as well as with Iran, Hezbollah, and Russia.\n\nEven Assad's enemies are rethinking their strategy. European countries worry about the thousands of Europeans who have traveled to Syria to fight Assad—and their potential return as violent militants. Meanwhile, the United States has dispatched hundreds of advisors to join the battle against ISIS in Iraq. Members of the Obama administration are backing away from the goal of toppling Assad. \"Anyone calling for regime change in Syria,\" said one official, \"is frankly blind to the past decade; and the collapse of eastern Syria, and growth of Jihadistan, leading to 30 to 50 suicide attacks a month in Iraq.\"\n\nThe devil's gambit is a chancy maneuver, since the resulting radicals could grow too powerful to control. For a dictator, the sweet spot is an extremist force that's strong enough to inspire fear abroad, but not capable enough to topple the regime—which is roughly where ISIS is right now. If the militants become too potent, Assad will probably turn on them with a vengeance.\n\n http://www.theatlantic.com/international/archive/2014/07/assad-and-the-art-of-the-devils-gambit/374501/\n\n\"As long as there is an Assad, there will be an Isil - he'll make sure of it\", 2015\n\n2 , 3\n\nSo it is with Bashar al-Assad in Syria. From the very beginning of his country's insurrection, Assad has done his best to help Islamist zealots hijack the Syrian opposition; he worked particularly hard to create ideal laboratory conditions for the rise of the Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant (Isil). His supremely cynical aim was to convince the West to accept him as an essential bulwark against the very threat he helped to conjure into being. Put bluntly, Assad is an arsonist posing as a fireman.\n\nThis is an old trick. Every Arab dictator since Nasser has sought to confront his people and the world with a stark choice: either support me or watch the jihadists take over. The ruse is obvious, time-honoured – and remarkably effective.\n\n6, 7 , 8 , 9, 10\n\nSo for as long as there is an Assad, there will be an Isil. He will make sure of it. Why? Because for as long as there is an Isil, some in the West will argue that we need Assad to defeat it.\n\nThe conclusion should be obvious: the man who needs Isil more than anyone else is not best qualified to cause their demise. Assad's role in engineering Isil's ascendancy is well-documented. Back in 2011 and 2012, he emptied Sednaya prison outside Damascus of its most dangerous Islamist prisoners. He must have known that these outlaws would use their liberty to infect the rebels with the jihadist virus – and they duly did so. An excellent book, Isis: Inside the Army of Terror by Michael Weiss and Hassan Hassan, names three Isil commanders who were carefully released from Assad's jails.\n\nHelped by the talent that the dictator had set free, Isil captured the oilfields of eastern Syria in 2013. But there is no point possessing oil unless you can sell the stuff. Fortunately for Isil, Assad bought their oil and funded their advance.\n\nToday, Syria's regime remains the largest single buyer of Isil's oil and one of the biggest donors to the terrorists' coffers. These facts are not seriously disputed, indeed the businessman accused of negotiating the oil deals between Isil and Assad – one George Haswani, the owner of HESCO engineering – has been named and subjected to EU sanctions.\n\nMeanwhile, observers of the war have noticed a pattern. Assad strains every sinew to fight the non-Islamist rebels, but Isil has generally been immune from his barrel bombs and poison gas. Last year, only six per cent of Assad's military operations targeted Isil, according to a study by IHS Jane's, a defence consultancy. The other rebels felt the fury of 94 per cent of Assad's military effort.\n\n12\n\nThere is a bitter irony here. Without the threat posed by Assad's forces and Russian air power, many Sunni rebels in Syria would indeed take up arms against Isil. The way to turn them against Isil would be to stop the depredations of Assad. So the idea that the dictator is indispensable to the fight against Isil is the exact reverse of the truth. In fact, getting rid of Assad would be the key that unlocks a Sunni army to defeat the terrorists.\n\n http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/middleeast/syria/12038032/As-long-as-there-is-an-Assad-there-will-be-an-Isil-hell-make-sure-of-it.html\n\n\" **How Assad helped the rise of his 'foe' Isil\", 2014**\n\n2, 3, 4, 5 , 6 , 7\n\nLogic would suggest that Mr Assad and Isil are out to destroy one another. But logic works in curious ways in the Middle East. As he wages a ruthless struggle to hold power, the evidence suggests that Mr Assad has quietly cooperated with his supposed enemies and actively helped their rise.\n\nThe thinking behind this apparently perverse strategy is simple. Mr Assad wants to force his own people and the West to make an unpalatable choice: either he stays in place, or Syria falls into the hands of Isil's fanatics. When push comes to shove, Mr Assad thinks that most Syrians and the Western powers will back him over the fundamentalists.\n\nBut this plan will only work if Isil is the most powerful rebel force. The signs are that Mr Assad has done his best to make this come true.\n\nAs recently as 2012, Isil was a marginalised movement confined to a small area of Iraq. Then Mr Assad emptied Sednaya jail near Damascus of some of its most dangerous jihadist prisoners. If he hoped that these men would join Isil and strengthen its leadership, then that aspiration was certainly fulfilled. A number of figures in the movement's hierarchy are believed to be former inmates of Syrian prisons, carefully released by the regime.\n\nBy 2013, Isil had managed to capture oilfields in eastern Syria. But to profit from these assets, they needed to find a customer for the oil. Mr Assad's regime stepped in and began buying oilfrom Isil, thereby helping to fund the movement, according to Western and Middle Eastern governments.\n\nHaving provided Isil with talented commanders, courtesy of his prison amnesties, and filled its coffers with oil money, Mr Assad then chose to focus his military campaign on the non-Islamist rebels. Every town and suburb held by the Free Syrian Army was relentlessly pounded from the air and ground. A year ago, the regime even used poison gas against insurgent strongholds in Damascus.\n\n10\n\nThe signs are that Isil has returned the favour. Instead of trying to bring down Mr Assad, Isil has concentrated on fighting the non-Islamist rebels. When the movement reached what may prove to be the apex of its military strength earlier this year, Isil did not advance on Damascus and try to overthrow the regime. Instead, it chose to invade northern Iraq and trigger the current crisis.\n\n http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/middleeast/syria/11051566/How-Assad-helped-the-rise-of-his-foe-Isil.html\n\n\" **Why Bashar Assad Won't Fight ISIS\", 2015**\n\n2\n\nThe regime of Syrian President Bashar Assad has long had a pragmatic approach to the Islamic State of Iraq and Greater Syria (ISIS), says a Syrian businessman with close ties to the government. Even from the early days the regime purchased fuel from ISIS-controlled oil facilities, and it has maintained that relationship throughout the conflict. \"Honestly speaking, the regime has always had dealings with ISIS, out of necessity.\"\n\n7, 8 , 9 , 10\n\nAssad does not see ISIS as his primary problem, the businessman says. \"The regime fears the Free Syrian Army and the Nusra Front, not ISIS. They [the FSA and Nusra] state their goal is to remove the President. But ISIS doesn't say that. They have never directly threatened Damascus.\" As the businessman notes, the strikes on ISIS targets are minimal. \"If the regime were serious about getting rid of ISIS, they would have bombed Raqqa by now. Instead they bomb other cities, where the FSA is strong.\" That said, the businessman does not believe that the regime has a formal relationship with ISIS, just a pragmatic one. \"The more powerful ISIS grows, the more they are useful for the regime. They make America nervous, and the Americans in turn see the regime as a kind of bulwark against ISIS.\"\n\nA senior Western diplomat who specializes in the Syrian civil war agrees that ISIS is seen as an asset by Assad. \"They will do whatever it takes to devalue the opposition, even if it means strengthening ISIS. They know that if it comes to choosing between the black flag [of ISIS] and Damascus, the international community will choose Damascus.\" And the strategy has worked extremely well. \"The way it's going now, it's a matter of months, not even a year, that the moderate opposition is so weakened that it won't be a factor anymore. So in just a few months from now the regime will be able to achieve its strategic goal of forcing the world to choose between Damascus and the black flags.\"\n\nSo by ignoring the conflict between the Syrian opposition and the Assad regime to focus purely on ISIS may solve problems in the short term, says the diplomat, \"but there will be more problems to come. These are the ingredients for a further escalation of the conflict — alienating large parts of the Sunni population, so that they have no choice but to join ISIS. Not for ideological reasons, but because they will do whatever it takes to overthrow the regime in Damascus.\" Not only that, it will widen the geographical boundaries of the conflict by making this a fight of all Sunnis. \"It's a clear recipe for further escalation well beyond the geographical boundaries of the current conflict.\"\n\nHowever, Damascus believes that once it has neutralized most of the opposition, it can then defeat ISIS with ease. \"ISIS alone, the regime can deal with them. What Assad wants is international recognition of his legitimacy as Syria's President,\" says the businessman. \"When the war is over, he can easily handle ISIS with the help of Hizballah and the Iranian Revolutionary Guard.\"\n\n<http://time.com/3719129/assad-isis-asset/>\n\n\" **Turkey-ISIS Oil Trade\", 2015**\n\n1, 2, 3\n\nThe sale of oil products by ISIS garners about $500 million/year. The US led multinational coalition has pledged to destroy ISIS. Its strategy includes depriving ISIS of financial support. Allegations abound that Turks are engaged in oil trade with ISIS. Additionally, President Recep Tayyip Erdogan and his family are allegedly implicated. Erdogan takes these charges seriously. He promised \"to vacate his post of Turkey's presidency if the claims are substantiated by concrete evidence.\"\n\nThe Program on Peace-building and Rights at Columbia University's Institute for the Study of Human Rights appointed a team of researchers in the United States, Europe, and Turkey to investigate the allegations. Researchers focus on secondary media sources. This research paper cites relevant reports.\n\nSmugglers transport oil using a variety of means, generating significant revenues for ISIS. Smuggled oil finds its way into Turkey's export facilities and onto tankers in Ceyhan bound for international markets. There is no \"smoking gun\" linking the Government of Turkey or Erdogan directly to ISIS oil sales. It is apparent, however, that Turkey turned a blind eye to ISIS oil trade. Turkey failed to seal its border, facilitating ISIS oil exports. Turks have profited at stages of the supply chain.\n\n http://www.huffingtonpost.com/david-l-phillips/research-paper-turkey-isi_b_8808024.html\n\n\" **Islamic State oil is going to Assad, some to Turkey, U.S. official says\", 2015**\n\n1\n\nIslamic State militants have made more than $500 million trading oil with significant volumes sold to the government of Syrian President Bashar al-Assad and some finding its way to Turkey, a senior U.S. Treasury official said on Thursday.\n\n5, 6 , 7\n\n\"ISIL is selling a great deal of oil to the Assad regime,\" Szubin, acting under secretary for Terrorism and Financial Intelligence with the Treasury, told an audience at Chatham House in London.\n\n\"The two are trying to slaughter each other and they are still engaged in millions and millions of dollars of trade,\" Szubin said of Assad's government and Islamic State, also known as ISIS or ISIL.\n\nThe \"far greater amount\" of Islamic State oil ends up under Assad's control while some is consumed internally in Islamic State-controlled areas. Some ends up in Kurdish regions and some in Turkey, he said.\n\n11, 12\n\nAfter Turkey downed a Russian fighter jet last month, Russian President Vladimir Putin said he had intelligence that large amounts of oil and petroleum products were moving across the border from Islamic State territories to Turkey.\n\nThe son of Turkish President Tayyip Erdogan has denied Russian allegations that he and his family were profiting from the illegal smuggling of oil from Islamic State-held territory.\n\n http://www.reuters.com/article/us-mideast-crisis-syria-usa-oil-idUSKBN0TT2O120151210\n\n\" **An Energy Mogul Becomes Entangled With Islamic State\", 2016**\n\n1, 2\n\nIn Syria, George Haswani sees himself as a patriot. In the West, he is a wanted man.\n\nMr. Haswani acts as a middleman between Islamic State and the Syrian government, the terror group's largest customer, Western security officials allege. Islamic State controls much of Syria's energy infrastructure and sells stolen oil and natural gas at a discount—even to the regime it is ostensibly battling.\n\n7, 8\n\nButtressing Mr. Hawsani are his strong ties to Russia. He teamed up years ago with one of President Vladimir Putin's closest associates to build the sprawling gas-production facility in Syria's Tuweinan region that caught the attention of the Obama administration.\n\nAdministration officials said Moscow's military and economic alliance with Damascus makes it clear Russia knows of the dealings between the Assad regime and Islamic State.\n\n13\n\nMr. Haswani built the Tuweinan gas facility in partnership with a company owned by Gennady Timchenko, a Russian businessman and confidante of Mr. Putin's. Mr. Timchenko's firm, OAO Stroytransgaz, has provided Russian engineers for the project over the past decade, the company said.\n\n35\n\nThe U.S. has long accused Mr. Timchenko of serving as a front for the business interests of Mr. Putin, particularly in energy. Mr. Timchenko declined to comment. He has said in the past that he was a self-made businessman, independent of the Russian leader.\n\n37\n\n\"Timchenko's activities in the energy sector have been directly linked to Putin,\" the Treasury Department said at the time.\n\n http://www.wsj.com/articles/an-energy-mogul-becomes-entangled-with-islamic-state-1462734922\n\n\" **Kerry: Assad and ISIS Have 'Symbiotic' Relationship\", 2014**\n\n4\n\nThe Obama administration's strategy against the Islamic State initially focused on stopping the militants' advances in Iraq but recently the U.S. and its partners have realized that without degrading ISIL's stronghold inside Syria, the group can't be defeated inside Iraq. The anti-ISIL coalition is also seeing that moderate rebel groups fighting the Islamic State and who could potentially be an alternative to Assad are facing mounting attacks by both the Syrian regime and ISIL militants.\n\n6\n\nSyrian rebels being trained and equipped by the CIA were routed by al Qaeda-affiliated groups including Jabhat al-Nusra, the Washington Post reported. The Free Syrian Army was losing its stronghold in the northern Syrian province of Idlib and that may complicate U.S. efforts to ramp up a program to recruit and train thousands of rebels, the Post stated. As a result, the Obama administration is assessing whether it should step up covert aid to rebels while an overt Pentagon plan to train opposition groups gets underway, the Post reported.\n\n http://foreignpolicy.com/2014/11/17/kerry-assad-and-isis-have-symbiotic-relationship/\n\n\" **Turkey proposes cooperation with Russia in fighting ISIS\", 2016**\n\n1, 2 , 3\n\nTurkey has proposed cooperating with Moscow to combat ISIS in Syria, suggesting it could open its Incirlik Air Base to Russia - comments that highlight a revival in ties strained by Turkey's shooting down of a Russian warplane last year.\n\nMoscow pledged to rebuild relations after Turkish President Tayyip Erdogan last week expressed regret over the shooting down of the aircraft, with the loss of the pilot, near the Syrian frontier. Moscow had broken off virtually all economic ties and banned tourists from visiting Turkish resorts.\n\n\"We will cooperate with everyone who fights Daesh. We have been doing this for quite a while, and we opened Incirlik Air Base for those who want to join the active fight against Daesh,\" Foreign Minister Mevlut Cavusoglu said in an interview on state broadcaster TRT Haber on Sunday, using an Arabic acronym for ISIS.\n\n http://english.alarabiya.net/en/News/middle-east/2016/07/04/Turkey-proposes-cooperation-with-Russia-in-fighting-ISIS.html\n\n\" **How the Russian Fighters of ISIS Became a Terror Threat in Turkey\", 2016**\n\n2\n\nAt the time, thousands of other young men from across the former Soviet Union were flooding into Syria, mostly from the predominantly Muslim regions of southern Russia and the formerly communist states of Central Asia, such as Uzbekistan, Kyrgyzstan and Kazakhstan. In the last few years, volunteers from this part of the world have distinguished themselves as some of the fiercest fighters—and some of the top commanders—in the terrorist army known as ISIS. And according to Turkish authorities, these Russian-speaking militants may now have started going on missions outside of their self-proclaimed caliphate in Syria and Iraq.\n\n<http://time.com/4390090/istanbul-attack-russian-isis-militants/>\n\n\" **ISIS is the symptom. Assad is the disease\", 2015**\n\n2 , 3\n\nThe Syrian regime has avoided large-scale fights with the Islamic State. Assad wants the Islamic State to remain an imminent threat so the international community will see two options: Keep Assad or let terrorists take over Syria. Assad created the chaos that allowed the Islamic State to rise. His regime now has a strategy that bolsters the Islamic State's hold on northern Syria: The U.S.-backed Syrian rebels who are supposed to be fighting the Islamic State are being slaughtered by the Syrian Army and by Assad's Iranian and Russian allies. Assad's brutal campaign against Sunni communities drives thousands of young Syrians to join the jihadis.\n\nAnd now that the Islamic State has pulled off a series of devastating attacks in Paris, Western governments are promising a \"ruthless,\" \"merciless,\" \"pitiless\" war against the group. But none are mentioning Assad.\n\n9\n\nAssad himself tried to spin the Paris attacks into a justification for the international community to support his government. France has long been a supporter of the Syrian opposition, a policy Assad says has encouraged terrorism.\n\n13, 14\n\nFormer White House official Dennis Ross tweeted a response: \"Bashar Assad is not the answer to defeating ISIS; he helped produce them, buys their oil, is the cause that draws foreign fighters to them.\"\n\nAt Saturday night's Democratic debate, each candidate promised to fight the Islamic State but none mentioned Assad. Even Republican candidates who have been staunch advocates of arming the rebels fighting Assad, such as Sen. Marco Rubio, focused their reactions to the Paris attacks on the Islamic State instead.\n\n16\n\nSome experts warn that even if you completely destroy the Islamic State in Syria and Iraq, if Assad is allowed to continue his campaign of terror, another ruthless organization will just appear and take its place. That's why Kerry's drive to replace Assad, despite a low chance of success, is crucial.\n\n http://www.chicagotribune.com/news/nationworld/ct-paris-bashar-assad-syria-islamic-state-20151116-story.html\n\n\" **Russia Needs the Islamic State to Save Assad\", Ιούνιος 2016**\n\n2η, 3η, 4η, 5η Παράγραφος\n\nDespite Moscow's claims that its mission was fighting IS or \"terrorism,\" Russia's real goals can be summarized as three:\n\nRescue the Assad regime, which was assessed to be in mortal peril\n\nDamage the mainstream armed opposition, especially those elements supported by the West, in order that Russia can...\n\nRehabilitate the Assad regime internationally by inter alia leaving only extremists as its opponents, depriving the international community of credible interlocutors, and therefore strengthening the Russian hand to make peace talks an instrument for re-legitimizing Assad, rather than removing him\n\n https://kyleorton1991.wordpress.com/2016/06/21/russia-needs-the-islamic-state-to-save-assad/\n\n\" **Qatar bankrolls Syrian revolt with cash and arms\", 2013**\n\n1,2, 3, 4\n\nThe gas-rich state of Qatar has spent as much as $3bn over the past two years supporting the rebellion in Syria, far exceeding any other government, but is now being nudged aside by Saudi Arabia as the prime source of arms to rebels.\n\nThe cost of Qatar's intervention, its latest push to back an Arab revolt, amounts to a fraction of its international investment portfolio. But its financial support for the revolution that has turned into a vicious civil war dramatically overshadows western backing for the opposition.\n\nIn dozens of interviews with the Financial Times conducted in recent weeks, rebel leaders both abroad and within Syria as well as regional and western officials detailed Qatar's role in the Syrian conflict, a source of mounting controversy.\n\nThe small state with a gargantuan appetite is the biggest donor to the political opposition, providing generous refugee packages to defectors (one estimate puts it at $50,000 a year for a defector and his family) and has provided vast amounts of humanitarian support.\n\n7\n\nAccording to the Stockholm International Peace Research Institute, which tracks arms transfers, Qatar has sent the most weapons deliveries to Syria, with more than 70 military cargo flights into neighbouring Turkey between April 2012 and March this year.\n\n9\n\nQatar's support for Islamist groups in the Arab world, which puts it at odds with its peers in the Gulf states, has fuelled rivalry with Saudi Arabia. Hamad bin Khalifa al-Thani, Qatar's ruling emir, \"wants to be the Arab world's Islamist (Gamal) Abdelnasser\", said an Arab politician, referring to Egypt's fiery late president and devoted pan-Arab leader.\n\n15\n\nA supply route across Jordan's border to southern Syria has opened up in recent months. The Jordanian government, which is terrified of jihadis getting the upper hand in its neighbour, has been reluctantly allowing Saudi deliveries.\n\nThe west's reluctance to intervene more forcefully in Syria has all but left Bashar al-Assad's opponents reliant for support on Qatar, Saudi Arabia and Turkey though since late last year, the United Arab Emirates and Jordan have joined the rebels' backers as junior partners.\n\n http://www.ft.com/cms/s/0/86e3f28e-be3a-11e2-bb35-00144feab7de.html#axzz4FN2QV1yJ\n\n\" **The Islamic State\", 2016**\n\n12\n\nSyria's 2011 uprising gave the Islamic State new opportunities to expand. Some analysts have even described a tacit nonaggression pact between Islamic State militants and President Bashar al-Assad's regime, with each focused on fighting the main antigovernment opposition forces for territorial control. As extremists came to dominate territory in Syria's north and east and overran more moderate forces, Assad claimed it validated his argument that only his government could mount an effective opposition to \"terrorists\"—a term he has applied to opposition forces of all stripes.\n\n14 , 15 , 16 , 17\n\nAfter rapid expansion through Iraq in much of 2014, the Islamic State seemed to run up against its limits as it pushed up against majority Kurdish and Shia Arab regions, where it faced greater resistance from Iraqi forces and local populations, along with U.S.-led air strikes. Its militants have failed to advance on Baghdad or the Kurdish capital, Erbil.\n\nThe group became an al-Qaeda franchise by 2004, but has since broken with bin Laden's organization and become its rival. The split reflects strategic and ideological differences. Al-Qaeda focused on attacking the United States and its Western allies, whom it held responsible for bolstering Arab regimes it considered apostate, like those in Saudi Arabia and Egypt, rather than capturing territory and establishing a state. Bin Laden also envisaged the establishment of a caliphate—but for him, it was a goal for future generations.\n\nIn 2005, bin Laden deputy Ayman al-Zawahiri castigated AQI's Zarqawi for indiscriminately attacking civilians, particularly Shias. Zawahiri believed that such violence would alienate Sunnis from their project. That was indeed the case, as many Sunnis allied with the government during the Awakening movement.\n\nA more thorough rupture came after the start of Syria's uprising. Zawahiri, who succeeded bin Laden as al-Qaeda's chief, privately ruled that the emergent Syrian al-Qaeda affiliate, Jabhat al-Nusra, remain independent, and Baghdadi's organization restricted to Iraq, a move Baghdadi publicly rebuffed. Since then, the two groups have at times fought one another on the Syrian battlefield\n\n27 , 28 , 29\n\nU.S. President Barack Obama's administration has assembled a coalition of some sixty countries to \"degrade and ultimately defeat\" the Islamic State, but has privately expressed frustration that many of these countries, particularly Sunni Arab states distracted by a Saudi-led conflict against Houthi rebels in Yemen, have contributed little more than rhetorical support. As of late February 2016, the coalition has carried out more than ten thousand air strikes, three-quarters of them by U.S. forces, in Iraq and Syria, the Pentagon said..\n\nIn Iraq, the United States has deployed more than three thousand uniformed personnel and armed the Kurdistan Regional Government's paramilitary, the peshmerga. Meanwhile, Shia militias known as Popular Mobilization Forces have done much of the fighting on the ground, making up for the hollowed-out Iraqi army. Those backed by Iran's Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps played a critical role in Iraq's March 2015 push to oust Islamic State forces from Tikrit. Another militia involved in the fight against the Islamic State is loyal to the nationalist cleric Moqtada al-Sadr, whose Mahdi Army battled U.S.-led forces early in the occupation.\n\nThe Obama administration insisted that Maliki step down and be replaced by a less polarizing politician as a condition of military assistance. His successor, Haider al-Abadi, assumed office in September 2014, pledging to practice more inclusive politics and bring Shia militias aligned with Iraqi security forces under the state's control. But rights groups allege that these militias have evicted, disappeared, and killed residents of Sunni and mixed neighborhoods in the wake of operations to root out Islamic State militants. Acknowledging these abuses, Sadr temporarily froze his militia.\n\n<http://www.cfr.org/iraq/islamic-state/p14811>\n\n\" **Four-fifths of Russia's Syria strikes don't target Islamic State: Reuters analysis\", 2015**\n\n1, 2\n\nAlmost 80 percent of Russia's declared targets in Syria have been in areas not held by Islamic State, a Reuters analysis of Russian Defence Ministry data shows, undermining Moscow's assertions that its aim is to defeat the group.\n\nThe majority of strikes, according to the analysis, have instead been in areas held by other groups opposed to Syrian President Bashar al-Assad, which include al Qaeda offshoots but also fighters backed by Washington and its allies.\n\n5, 6\n\n\"If you look at the map, you can easily understand that they are not fighting Islamic State but other opposition groups,\" said Alexander Golts, a Moscow-based defense columnist and deputy editor of online newspaper Yezhednevny Zhurnal.\n\nThe data supports assertions from Washington and its NATO allies that Russia's intervention in Syria, its biggest military deployment abroad since the collapse of the Soviet Union, is designed to prop up Assad, who flew to Moscow on Tuesday to thank Putin for his support.\n\n8, 9, 10, 11\n\nRussian officials have rejected the accusations and repeatedly stressed that they are targeting Islamic State, alongside other groups they classify as Islamist terrorists. They say Moscow and the West are fighting a common enemy.\n\nHowever, the pattern of the strikes in Syria suggests a different picture.\n\nRussia's air force has flown over 780 sorties against almost 800 targets in Syria since Sept. 30. As recently as Monday, its jets hit targets in six named locations, none of which were in areas held by Islamic State, the Reuters analysis showed.\n\n\"The main goal of these air strikes is supporting ground offensives by the Syrian army,\" Golts said.\n\n http://www.reuters.com/article/us-mideast-crisis-syria-russia-strikes-idUSKCN0SF24L20151021\n\n\" **More than 90%' of Russian airstrikes in Syria have not targeted Isis, US says\"**\n\n1, 2\n\nA large majority of Russia's military strikes in Syria have not been aimed at the Islamic State group or jihadists tied to al-Qaida, and have instead targeted the moderate Syrian opposition, the US State Department said on Wednesday.\n\n\"Greater than 90% of the strikes that we've seen them take to date have not been against Isil or al-Qaida-affiliated terrorists,\" said spokesman John Kirby.\n\n https://www.theguardian.com/world/2015/oct/07/russia-airstrikes-syria-not-targetting-isis\n\n\" **Putin's Target Is Not Islamic State\", 2015**\n\n1, 2 , 3\n\nAnybody who hoped Russian President Vladimir Putin would have the key to defeating Islamic State or bringing peace to Syria just got their answer: The first airstrikes in Russia's air campaign in that benighted country didn't target the terrorist group at all.\n\nInstead, Putin followed President Bashar al-Assad's playbook. The Syrian leader's forces have rarely taken on Islamic State unless forced to do so. Indeed, Assad has seen the fanatical Islamist force as a useful ally in persuading the international community that Syria's war consists of a choice between him and barbarians, with nothing in between. As Putin put it in his speech to the United Nations General Assembly this week, Assad is \"valiantly fighting terrorism face-to-face.\"\n\nNo, he is not. To create the binary choice Assad seeks, and to eliminate any opposition that the U.S. and Europe might consider acceptable, Syria's president has directed his fire power against rebel groups other than Islamic State, making him an ally of opportunity for the terrorist organization. By contrast, the groups that Assad attacks, and which Russia struck on Wednesday, do routinely fight Islamic State.\n\n https://www.bloomberg.com/view/articles/2015-09-30/putin-s-goal-in-syria-helping-assad-not-stopping-islamic-state\n\n\" **Putin not likely to target Islamic State soon, says Obama\", 2015**\n\n1\n\nUS president Barack Obama told a press conference in Paris that he does not expect his Russian counterpart, Vladimir Putin, to begin targeting Islamic State (ISIS) soon, but hopes the Vienna negotiations led by secretary of state John Kerry and the Russian foreign minister Serguei Lavrov will transform the war in Syria.\n\n7\n\nRussia has \"invested for years now in keeping Assad in power. Their presence (in Syria) is predicated on propping him up,\" Mr Obama said. \"I don't think we should be under any illusions that somehow Russia starts hitting only ISIL targets. That's not happening now. It was never happening. It's not going to be happening in the next several weeks.\"\n\n http://www.irishtimes.com/news/world/us/putin-not-likely-to-target-islamic-state-soon-says-obama-1.2450687\n\n\" **Russia Launches Airstrikes Against Islamic State's Syrian Stronghold\", 2015**\n\n1 , 2 , 3\n\nU.S. defense officials said Tuesday that Russia had begun an aggressive air campaign against sites in Raqqa, the Islamic State's stronghold in Syria, following Moscow's acknowledgment of evidence confirming a bomb downed a Russian airliner over Egypt last month.\n\nThe Russians used sea-launched cruise missiles and long-range bombers to target Islamic State in Raqqa, according to a senior defense official.\n\nThe airstrikes represent the first significant effort by Russia to target Islamic State after announcing over the summer that it would fight the extremist group when it entered the fray in Syria.\n\n http://www.wsj.com/articles/russia-has-begun-airstrikes-against-islamic-states-syrian-stronghold-u-s-says-1447767698\n\n\" **Assad reportedly struck an ominous deal with ISIS to recapture Palmyra\",2016**\n\n1, 2, 3, 4 , 5 , 6\n\nForces loyal to Syria's President Bashar al-Assad flash victory signs and carry a Syrian national flag on the edge of the historic city of Palmyra in Homs.\n\nNew documents obtained by Sky News revealed that the Syrian government's recapture of the ancient city of Palmyra from Islamic State militants was apparently part of a pre-arranged deal that allowed ISIS to remove its heavy weaponry from the city before withdrawing.\n\nSky News reported that the documents came from a Free Syrian Army group comprised of ISIS defectors originally from Raqqa, ISIS' de facto capital in Syria.\n\n\"Withdraw all heavy artillery and anti-aircraft machine guns from in and around Palmyra to Raqqa province,\" read one document that was dated just before the Syrian Arab Army recaptured Palmyra at the end of March.\n\nStuart Ramsay, Sky News' chief correspondent, said he asked one of the defectors if ISIS was coordinating its movements directly with forces loyal to Assad — and even with Russia, which backed the assault on Palmyra with heavy airstrikes.\n\n\"Of course,\" the ISIS defector told Ramsay.\n\n8, 9, 10\n\nThe Wall Street Journal reported last month on files uncovered during a raid on the home of Abu Sayyaf, the Islamic State \"oil minister\" who was killed by US Special Forces at his compound in Syria's Deir Ezzour province last May. The files revealed deals the Assad regime supposedly made with Sayyaf that, at one point, contributed up to 72% of ISIS' profits from natural resources.\n\nAbu Sayyaf's division had successfully negotiated agreements with the Assad regime to allow Islamic State trucks and pipelines to move from regime-controlled fields through territory controlled by the group, which is also known as ISIS, ISIL, or Daesh. The division helped the jihadists bring in roughly $40 million a month in oil sales alone, according to documents seen by The Journal.\n\nThe natural-gas fields surrounding Palmyra were a particularly important source of revenue for the jihadists. They turned the gas into fuel which they then sold to Assad,according to Matthew Reed, the vice president of Foreign Reports Inc., a Washington, D.C.-based consulting firm focused on oil and politics in the Middle East.\n\n http://finance.yahoo.com/news/assad-regime-reportedly-struck-ominous-191347084.html\n\n\" **U.S. finds Russia focusing fight on Syrian rebels, not Islamic State**\n\nTop of Form\", 2016\n\n1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6\n\nRussian forces are not attacking the Islamic State in Syria unless its terrorist army is battling troops of President Bashar Assad, the U.S. military said Wednesday.\n\nThe assessment from Operation Inherent Resolve directly contradicts claims by the government of Russian President Vladimir Putin, which has repeatedly claimed its warplanes are unleashing strikes on the Islamic State, including its headquarters in Raqqa in central Syria, along with strikes on anti-Assad rebel groups backed by the West.\n\nArmy Col. Seven Warren, the top U.S. military spokesman in Baghdad, said 90 percent of Russian airstrikes are directed at rebel groups opposed to Mr. Assad, a longtime Russian ally. The Assad regime has been charged with indiscriminately killing civilians with chemical weapons and, more recently, with unguided \"barrel bombs.\"\n\nCol. Warren said the few strikes against the Islamic State, also known as ISIL and ISIS, occur when Russia needs to protect Mr. Assad.\n\nUnder criticism for its selective targeting practices, the Russians a month ago released a video of what it said was an airstrike on an Islamic State oil truck. But Col. Warren said there have been few if any such sorties since then.\n\n\"Ten percent, I think at the most, would be against ISIL targets,\" he said.\n\n http://www.washingtontimes.com/news/2016/feb/3/putins-forces-refuse-attack-islamic-state-syria/\n\n\" **Turk Compares U.S. to Hitler\", 2004**\n\n1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6\n\nThe head of Turkey's parliamentary human rights group has accused Washington of genocide in Iraq and behaving worse than Adolf Hitler, in remarks that underscore the depth of Turkish opposition to U.S. policy in the region.\n\nThe U.S. Embassy rejected the comments and said they were potentially damaging to Turkish-U.S. relations.\n\n\"The occupation has turned into barbarism,\" the Friday edition of newspaper Yeni Safak quoted Mehmet Elkatmis, head of parliament's human rights commission, as saying. \"The U.S. administration is committing genocide ... in Iraq.\n\n\"Never in human history have such genocide and cruelty been witnessed. Such a genocide was never seen in the time of the pharaohs nor of Hitler nor of [Benito] Mussolini,\" Italy's World War II-era fascist leader, Elkatmis said.\n\n\"This occupation has entirely imperialist aims,\" he was quoted as saying.\n\nElkatmis does not speak for Turkey's government but is a prominent member of the ruling Justice and Development Party, a center-right group with Islamist roots.\n\nForeign Minister Abdullah Gul played down Elkatmis' comments but defended Turks' right to speak freely.\n\n<http://articles.latimes.com/2004/nov/27/world/fg-turkey27>\n\n\" **Turkey after the Iraq War:Still a U.S. Ally?\", 2003**\n\n1\n\nA year ago, it would have been difficult to question Turkey's status as a staunch U.S. ally. Much has changed. The Iraq war was the biggest test for the U.S.-Turkey relationship since the end of the Cold War. It followed the election of a new Turkish government in November 2002, led by the Justice and Development Party (AKP), a party rooted in Turkey's Islamist Welfare Party. When the AKP came to power there were many questions about whether the victory marked a fundamental shift in Turkish politics. Today Turkey's political structure is changing. Significant new reforms have been implemented. Turkish citizens have gained a significant increase in rights and liberties, and the military's role in Turkish society has been reconfigured.\n\n3, 4 , 5\n\nWhen I look at the factors underlying Turkey's unwillingness to open up a northern front in March 2003, I come to a pessimistic conclusion, because some of those factors still loom large. There has first of all been a move to align Turkish foreign policy with that of the European Union (EU), including Turkey's Iraq policy. That would mean there must be UN authorization before Turkey can send any peacekeepers.\n\nFrom Ankara's perspective, another of Turkey's concerns -- that Iraq remain united -- was not adequately addressed before the war, and that partly undermined Turkey's ability to commit itself fully in prewar planning. The Kurdish issue remains a factor but with a new twist: the Kurdistan Workers Party (PKK). We have not heard much about the PKK for the last three years. It declared a ceasefire in 1999 after its leader, Abdullah Ocalan, was captured. With the ceasefire, Turkey entered a period of peace and quiet, and the PKK fell off the radar screen. Now it is back, with the September 2003 renunciation of its ceasefire. There has been a limited amount of PKK-led violence and terrorism since, though not on the previous scale. Still, now that the organization has renounced its ceasefire, it is a concern in the Turkish mind.\n\nThe PKK figures in the debate over Iraq because the organization's main base is in the northern part of that country, along the Turkish border. Northern Iraq has had weak central authority since the end of the 1991 Gulf War. The PKK uses its bases there to launch attacks into Turkey. When the organization was under ceasefire, its 4,000 to 5,000 militants in northern Iraq did not attract much attention. But now that the ceasefire has been renounced, many in Ankara believe that the PKK is Turkey's most pressing security concern.\n\n23\n\nThese sentiments reached a peak when U.S. forces, with the help of Kurdish peshmerga fighters, captured Turkey's special forces in Sulaymaniya on July 4, 2003, and covered their heads with hoods -- the kind of treatment usually reserved for members of al-Qaeda and the Taliban in Afghanistan. It was ironic that NATO Supreme Commander Gen. James Jones, who was sent to resolve this unfortunate predicament, used the occasion to make a sounding as to whether Turkey could contribute forces in Iraq.\n\n http://www.washingtoninstitute.org/policy-analysis/view/turkey-after-the-iraq-war-still-a-u.s.-ally\n\n\" **Why we shouldn't let Russia fight the Islamic State\", 2015**\n\n1, 2\n\nDonald Trump says: \"Let [Russia] get rid of ISIS. What the hell do we care?\" It is a fair question. What harm could come from letting Russian President Vladi¬mir Putin take on this fight for us in Syria?\n\nThe answer is: plenty.\n\nFirst, Russia is not fighting the Islamic State. According to the Institute for the Study of War, the Russian strikes have been mainly in areas controlled by other Sunni groups that Syrian President Bashar al-Assad sees as a threat, including rebel groups trained by and aligned with the United States. That is because Russia's strategic goal is not to destroy the Islamic State, but to prop up the Iran-backed Assad regime — and to force the West to back him as well. By destroying the moderate opposition, the world will be left with a choice between Assad and the Islamic State. President Obama does not seem to understand this. Last week, he naively declared that Russia should not be targeting the U.S.-backed rebels because we need a moderate opposition to have a transition from Assad's rule. That is precisely why Putin is targeting them.\n\nSecond, Russia's intervention will actually strengthen the Islamic State. By eliminating moderate opposition, Russia is driving all Sunni groups into the arms of the Islamic State and the al-Qaeda-backed Jabhat al-Nusra — making them the only game in town for the majority of the population opposed to Assad, even if they do not share the terrorists' radical ideology. This will radicalize the conflict and make Syria into an even greater magnet for jihadists. That helps Assad, who needs the Islamic State threat to justify his regime's continued existence as a bulwark against them.\n\n https://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/why-we-shouldnt-let-russia-fight-the-islamic-state/2015/10/05/ad77beda-6b6c-11e5-aa5b-f78a98956699_story.html\n\n\" **Why is Jabhat al-Nusra no longer useful to Turkey?\", 2014**\n\n1\n\nReluctantly perhaps, given the time it took it to do so, Turkey on June 3 finally designated al-Qaeda-affiliated Jabhat al-Nusra a terrorist organization. The decision was seen as further proof of Turkey's failed Syria policy, which has left the government of Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdogan little choice but to fall in line with the United States with regard to radical groups fighting in that country.\n\n5, 6 , 7, 8\n\nIt is no secret among diplomats in Ankara that this group was initially considered by Erdogan and Foreign Minster Ahmet Davutoglu as the most effective force against the Assad regime that they wanted to see toppled.\n\nAnkara was reportedly annoyed when the United States declared the group a terrorist organization in December 2012, arguing that this was a \"hasty\" decision, given the headway the group was making against the Syrian army.\n\nThere was also speculation that Ankara was using Jabhat al-Nusra against Kurdish groups in Syria aligned with the Kurdistan Workers Party (PKK), to prevent them from controlling regions adjoining the Turkish border abandoned by Assad's forces.\n\nJabhat al-Nusra's self-declared jihadist ambitions and the brutal tactics it employed against its enemies, however, moved the UN to also blacklist it in May 2013, increasing pressure on Ankara to distance itself from the group.\n\n11 to 23\n\nResponding to a parliamentary question by a deputy from the opposition Republican People's Party (CHP) in August 2013, Davutoglu was more direct. He referred to Jabhat al-Nusra as a group that supported extremism and which is on the US' and the UN's list of terrorist organizations.\n\nDespite such indirect acknowledgements of Jabhat al-Nusra's status as a terrorist group, it took nine months for Ankara to finally designate it as a terrorist organization by a government decree published in the Official Gazette.\n\nThe question arises as to why the Erdogan government decided to blacklist Jabhat al-Nusra now, after having resisted doing so for so long. The simple answer seems to be that its Syria policy is in tatters, after all the horses it bet on lost one by one.\n\nSyrian President Bashar al-Assad has proved to have staying power, and his latest election gambit shows that he will remain in place for the foreseeable future. In the meantime, it has become apparent that there will be no direct Western-led military intervention against the Syrian regime, which continues to get major backing from Russia and Iran.\n\nThe Erdogan government has no choice at this point but to also accept that as far as the United States and Europe are concerned, the emphasis in Syria has shifted from toppling Assad to combating the al-Qaeda-affiliated jihadist groups in that country.\n\nLooked at in retrospect, these groups have posed the most important obstacle to Ankara's policy of pushing for international military action against Assad. They have also prevented the Syrian opposition from being armed with the necessary weapons to fight the Syrian army.\n\nThe United States and some Western countries, like France, were not averse at first to arming the Syrian opposition with sophisticated weapons. These countries even appeared willing to start a bombing campaign against Assad's forces after chemical weapons were used in that country.\n\nThey pulled back, however, not only because it could not be established conclusively who used the chemical weapons, but also because of the fear that jihadist groups could fill the political vacuum left by the Assad regime if it were to be ousted by a military intervention.\n\nThe idea of providing the Syrian opposition with heavy and sophisticated weapons was also overridden by fears that these could fall into the hands of radicals and be turned against the West in the future.\n\nPut in a nutshell, the groups that the Erdogan government may have once seen as providing an advantage against Assad turned out in the end to be serious liabilities for Turkey's ill-fated, and in hindsight ill-considered, Syrian policy. This liability increased after Syria-related terrorist attacks started to take place in Turkey.\n\nThe main attack of this sort, which concentrated Turkish minds and turned the public even more against the government's Syria policy, was the Reyhanli twin car bombing on May 11, 2013, which left at least 50 dead. Although the government was quick to blame Assad loyalists, the opposition in Turkey still insists that it was jihadist groups that carried out the attack.\n\nMeanwhile, the so-called \"Sunni Axis\" against Syria, comprising Turkey, Egypt, Saudi Arabia and Qatar, fell apart without having influenced the course of events against Assad. Today, members of this \"axis\" not only bear grudges against each other, but are also deeply suspicious of each other's intentions, for a variety of reasons.\n\nThis has limited Ankara's options further, and forced it not only to coordinate its Syria policy more closely with Washington, but to also remain open to fresh regional overtures from Iran, which appears the winner today, given developments in Syria and the crumbling of the \"Sunni Axis.\"\n\n http://www.al-monitor.com/pulse/originals/2014/06/idiz-turkey-syria-opposition-nusra-terrorist-unsc-erdogan.html\n\n\" **Obama: I don't expect Putin to do a '180' to help fight Islamic State\", 2015**\n\n1, 2\n\nPresident Obama expressed fresh doubts Tuesday about Russia's willingness to turn away from a military campaign in Syria focused on \"propping up\" President Bashar Assad and instead joining efforts to battle Islamic State, saying that he doesn't expect a \"180 turn\" in the near future.\n\n\"I don't think we should be under any illusions that somehow Russia starts hitting only ISIL targets,\" Obama said, using his administration's preferred term for Islamic State. \"That's not happening now. It was never happening. It's not going to be happening in the next several weeks.\"\n\n http://www.latimes.com/world/middleeast/la-fg-obama-russia-turkey-isis-20151201-story.html\n\n\" **Syria's al-Nusra 'more dangerous' than ISIS\", 2016**\n\n1 , 2, 3 , 4\n\nAl Qaeda's Syrian affiliate, Jabhat al-Nusra, is a greater threat to the United States in the long term than is ISIS, making the United States' current single-minded focus on the latter group misguided, a new report is charging.\n\nAl-Nusra is \"much more dangerous to the U.S. than the ISIS model in the long run,\" according to the authors of a report labeling both groups \"existential\" threats. The report was released last week by the Institute for the Study of War and American Enterprise Institute.\n\nThe report criticizes the administration's ISIS-centric strategy, saying, \"Any strategy that leaves Jabhat al-Nusra in place will fail to secure the American homeland.\"\n\nHowever, the chief of staff of the U.S. Army, Gen. Mark Milley, in a speech Wednesday said that only Russia constituted a potential \"existential\" threat due to its possession of a large nuclear arsenal capable of striking the U.S.\n\n7, 8, 9\n\nThough for now al-Nusra hasn't undertaken attacks in the West like ISIS has, Kagan said it's just as potent.\n\n\"While ISIS is flashier ... both represent an existential threat, both wish to attack the homeland, both seek the mobilization of Muslim communities against the West,\" she said.\n\nIn fact, Kagan warned that al Qaeda's Syrian branch represented a longer-term and more intractable threat than ISIS and that targeting al-Nusra would be more difficult than targeting the other group, both of which take advantage of the chaos of the Syrian civil war to expand their reach.\n\n12\n\nAl-Nusra, like ISIS, won't be participating in the talks, but the report argues that al-Nusra is \"a spoiler that will almost certainly cause the current strategy in Syria to fail.\"\n\n14, 15, 16\n\nAl-Nusra emerged in late 2011 during the early days of the Syrian civil war and was initially largely made up of battle-hardened Syrians who had traveled to Iraq to fight U.S. troops during the American engagement there.\n\nIt has emerged as one of the most effective groups fighting the Syrian regime and currently controls swaths of northwestern Syria. The group holds \"coercive power\" over several opposition groups, serving as a sort of \"kingmaker,\" Heras said.\n\nAl-Nusra does \"not have the same capacity as ISIS, but its greatest usefulness is as a base of operations\" to other elements of al Qaeda that may seek to strike Western targets,\" Heras said.\n\n19, 20\n\nKagan said she believes al-Nusra has made a tactical decision not to attack the West for the time being.\n\n\"Right now, al-Nusra has decided not to overtly host attack cells because the al Qaeda leadership's priority is preserving success in Syria and avoiding being targeted by the U.S.,\" she said.\n\n http://edition.cnn.com/2016/01/25/politics/al-qaeda-al-nusra-isis-threat-experts/\n\n\" **What's the difference between ISIS, al-Nusra and the Khorasan Group?\", 2014**\n\n27, 28\n\nLike ISIS, al-Nusra Front is trying to establish an Islamic state -- though primarily in Syria.\n\nIt's been a formidable force against President Bashar al-Assad's regime. But even though it has helped the Syrian opposition by taking out regime fighters, it has also hurt the moderate opposition by making world leaders hesitant to help rebels.\n\n http://edition.cnn.com/2014/09/24/world/meast/isis-al-nusra-khorasan-difference/\n\n\" **Erdoğan to EU: Al-Nusra also fighting ISIS, why are you calling it terrorist?\", 2016**\n\n1η\n\nTurkish President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan criticized the European Union (EU) for not designating the Syrian Kurdish Democratic Union Party (PYD) as \"terrorist,\" and said \"So al-Nusra [Front] is also fighting Daesh [Islamic State of Iraq and Syria (ISIS)], then why do you call it a terrorist organization?\"\n\n https://www.turkishminute.com/2016/06/22/erdogan-al-nusra-also-fighting-isis-call-terrorist/\n\n\" **Behind the Syrian War, Al-Qaeda and ISIS Fight for Control of Jihadi Movement\", 2016**\n\n2 , 3 , 4\n\nThe Islamic State in Iraq and Syria (ISIS) started as a more extreme offshoot of al-Qaeda, but al-Qaeda's central command officially announced in March 2014 that ISIS has no relationship with the leadership of al-Qaeda. The two groups also began fighting around that time, with conflicts taking place both on the ground and ideologically.\n\nIn their fight for legitimacy over the jihadi movement, the groups will continue to fight each other, fight for control of Iraq and Syria—and experts warn that these rival extremists could soon turn their attention to launching attacks on the West in attempts to display their capabilities.\n\nThe two men behind this fight are Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi, the leader of ISIS; and Ayman al-Zawahiri, the leader of al-Qaeda, and according to author and terrorism researcher Jere Van Dyk, while ISIS is putting on an aggressive show, al-Qaeda still commands more influence.\n\n6, 7 , 8\n\nVan Dyk recently finished researching his upcoming books on the links of al-Qaeda and its affiliates throughout the Middle East and South Asia. While traveling through the region, he found \"al-Qaeda has a lot of influence in the rural areas and among the very poor,\" and \"among the deeply religious elements.\"\n\nThe perceptions of ISIS were much different, however. He said ISIS is seen as a \"flash in the pan.\" They view its leader as just a remnant of Saddam Hussein's Republican Guard—and when compared to al-Zawahiri, they see al-Baghdadi as having \"no intellectual standing\" and no moral authority.\n\nThis view is part of the reason why ISIS is having trouble spreading beyond the conflict zones in Iraq and Syria. Outside of that, it has only managed to find some influence in the destabilized environment in Libya, and in Afghanistan where it was able to lure some former members of the Taliban with money.\n\nElsewhere, the situation is much different. Whether it's the jihadi networks in Saudi Arabia, Yemen, Egypt, Qatar, Kuwait, the United Arab Emirates, or even Sudan—ISIS has had little luck shaking the foundations laid by al-Qaeda.\n\n12\n\nAl-Qaeda, on the other hand, brings in less cash, but its black market income is more stable. With al-Qaeda in the Arabian Peninsula, alone, Van Dyk said he was told by a high-level source in Yemen that the extremists had $35 million at their disposal, which they had gained mainly through kidnappings in North Africa.\n\n18\n\nAl-Qaeda also has a much different approach than ISIS. He said that while ISIS uses harsh violence for social control—something that has damaged its influence among many local populations—the approach al-Qaeda uses \"is more about working by, with, and through local populations.\"\n\n31\n\nIf Assad falls and free elections are held in Syria, Kan said, the Al-Nusra Front will likely be \"elevated to the political class.\" Since they actively fought against Assad, they will likely not be seen as \"bad guys\" in the broad society, and instead will be seen as \"patriots and heroes.\"\n\n http://www.theepochtimes.com/n3/2018524-behind-the-syrian-war-al-qaeda-and-isis-fight-for-control-of-jihadi-movement/\n\n\" **Qatar Is a U.S. Ally. They Also Knowingly Abet Terrorism. What's Going On?\", 2014**\n\n1\n\nIn a televised interview on September 25, CNN's Christiane Amanpour confronted the emir of Qatar about allegations that his country is not a true ally of the United States. Doha hosts America's largest military base in the Middle East, and at the same time allows private fundraising for American adversaries Al Qaeda and ISIS. Qatar has also been a big source of funding in recent years for U.S.-designated terrorist group Hamas, a spinoff of Egypt's Muslim Brotherhood. The 34-four-year-old emir replied to Amanpour: \"I'm not in a camp against another camp.... I have my own way of thinking.\"\n\n4 , 5 , 6, 7\n\nThe second objective has been to preserve the security of the ruling family and state. Qatar juts out into the Persian Gulf from Saudi Arabia, its much larger, more powerful, and sometimes hostile neighbor, with whom it shares its only land border. Iran, with whom Doha shares the world's largest gas field, is a short distance across Gulf waters. Another large and challenging state in the neighborhood, Iraq, is across the Gulf to the north. Hosting a major U.S. military base since 2003 has provided existential security for Qatar. Courting Islamists from the Muslim Brotherhood to Salafi groups has served as a power amplifier for the country, especially vis-à-vis Saudi Arabia.\n\nQatar supported Muslim Brotherhood organizations in countries across the region during the Arab uprisings in 2011, believing they represented the wave of the future. From Qatar's perspective, being at the front end of this trend would showcase the country's supposedly progressive leadership.\n\nBacking the Brotherhood represented a continuation of a strategy that was already in place. Doha had hosted Egyptian and, later, Syrian Brotherhood members for decades, including the maverick Egyptian cleric Yusuf al Qaradawi who has lived in Qatar since the 1960s. Qatar had also provided Brotherhood personalities an important means for disseminating their views via the state-funded media channel, Al Jazeera, since the mid-1990s.\n\nQatar's relationship with the Brotherhood has functioned as an important bulwark against Saudi Arabia. Riyadh has viewed the Brotherhood as a significant domestic irritant since the 1990s, and designated it as a terrorist group in March of this year. Qatar's patronage of and influence over some parts of the group have served as a stick to wield against its more powerful neighbor.\n\n11\n\nQatar is believed to have directly supported some of the most radical groups fighting in the Syrian war through much of 2013. This may have included Al Qaeda's affiliate in Syria, the Nusra Front. Doha would have adopted this approach in order to advance its foreign policy goal of defeating the Assad regime.\n\n14, 15, 16\n\nAccording to the U.S. Treasury, a number of terrorist financiers have been operating in Qatar. Qatari citizen Abd al Rahman al Nuaymi has served as an interlocutor between Qatari donors and leaders of Al Qaeda in Iraq (AQI, later renamed ISIS). Nuaymi reportedly oversaw the transfer of two million dollars per month to AQI for a period of time. Nuaymi is also one of several of Qatar-based, Al Qaeda financiers sanctioned by Treasury in recent years. According to some reporting, U.S. officials believe the largest share of private donations supporting ISIS and Al Qaeda–linked groups now comes from Qatar rather than Saudi Arabia.\n\nThere has been support among the royal family for radical Islamist groups, including ISIS's predecessor network and Al Qaeda. According to The New York Times, one royal family member, Abdul Karim al Thani, operated a safe house for Abu Musab al-Zarqawi, who eventually established and led AQI, when he was traveling between Iraq and Afghanistan in the early 2000s. Abdul Karim also provided Qatari passports and more than one million dollars to finance Zarqawi's network. Another royal family member, Shaykh Abdullah bin Khalid al-Thani, who held top ministerial posts over a period of two decades through mid-2013, sheltered on his farm other al-Qaeda members including Khalid Shaykh Mohammad, and welcomed Osama bin Laden there twice, according to a Congressional Research Service report. Khalid Shaykh Mohammad eventually became the mastermind behind September 11.\n\nThere has been support among the royal family for radical Islamist groups, including ISIS's predecessor network and Al Qaeda. According to The New York Times, one royal family member, Abdul Karim al Thani, operated a safe house for Abu Musab al-Zarqawi, who eventually established and led AQI, when he was traveling between Iraq and Afghanistan in the early 2000s. Abdul Karim also provided Qatari passports and more than one million dollars to finance Zarqawi's network. Another royal family member, Shaykh Abdullah bin Khalid al-Thani, who held top ministerial posts over a period of two decades through mid-2013, sheltered on his farm other al-Qaeda members including Khalid Shaykh Mohammad, and welcomed Osama bin Laden there twice, according to a Congressional Research Service report. Khalid Shaykh Mohammad eventually became the mastermind behind September 11.\n\n https://newrepublic.com/article/119705/why-does-qatar-support-known-terrorists\n\n\" **Intelligence Break Led U.S. to Tie Envoy Killing to Iraqi Qaeda Cell\", 2003**\n\n11 to 18\n\nMr. Powell said that after Mr. Zarqawi fought against the Soviets, he returned to Afghanistan at the peak of Mr. bin Laden's influence in 2000 and ran a training camp. His leg injury during the allied military campaign in 2001 may have been serious enough for amputation by the time he reached Baghdad.\n\nAn expert in poisons and chemical weapons, Mr. Zarqawi is believed to have been providing training to the extremist group Ansar al-Islam. The group is based in northeastern Iraq in territory that is neither under the control of the Baghdad regime nor the main Kurdish groups that have divided up most of northern Iraq.\n\nSoon after Mr. Zarqawi arrived, Mr. Powell said, \"nearly two dozen extremists converged on Baghdad and established a base of operations there.\"\n\nHe continued, \"These Al Qaeda affiliates, based in Baghdad, now coordinate the movement of people, money and supplies into and throughout Iraq for his network, and they are now operating freely in the capital for more than eight months.\"\n\nCoalition officials said that no group could operate in this manner without deep engagement with Iraq's ubiquitous intelligence services.\n\nMr. Powell withheld some critical details today, like the discovery by the intelligence agencies that a member of the royal family in Qatar, an important ally providing air bases and a command headquarters for the American military, operated a safe house for Mr. Zarqawi when he transited the country going in and out of Afghanistan.\n\nThe Qatari royal family member was Abdul Karim al-Thani, the coalition official said. The official added that Mr. al-Thani provided Qatari passports and more than $1 million in a special bank account to finance the network.\n\nMr. al-Thani, who has no government position, is, according to officials in the gulf, a deeply religious member of the royal family who has provided charitable support for militant causes for years and has denied knowing that his contributions went toward terrorist operations.\n\nPrivate support from prominent Qataris to Al Qaeda is a sensitive issue that is said to infuriate George J. Tenet, the director of central intelligence. After the Sept. 11 attacks, another senior Qaeda operative, Khalid Shaikh Mohammed, who may have been the principal planner of the assault on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon, was said by Saudi intelligence officials to have spent two weeks in late 2001 hiding in Qatar, with the help of prominent patrons, after he escaped from Kuwait.\n\nBut with Qatar providing the United States military with its most significant air operations center for action against Iraq, the Pentagon has cautioned against a strong diplomatic response from Washington, American and coalition officials say.\n\n http://www.nytimes.com/2003/02/06/international/middleeast/06QAED.html\n\n\" **Qatar and Terror\", 2014**\n\n7\n\nQatar is one of the world's smallest states with a miniscule population. A Saudi prince once said that it is made up of \"300 people and a TV Channel\" (referring to Al Jazeera, based in the capital, Doha). Qatar has only 278,000 citizens and 1.5 million expatriates who make up 94% of the workforce. Qatar, the world's wealthiest country per capita, also has an unsavory reputation for the mistreatment and effective slavery of much of its workforce.\n\n10\n\nIn other spheres, Qatar is the single largest donor to the Brookings Institution, a major U.S. think tank. Payments included $14.8 million after the former U.S. Ambassador to Israel, Martin Indyk, blamed Israel for the failure of the latest round of Israeli-Palestinian peace talks; and it has given money to many universities in the U.S. and Europe.[3] Qatar also hosts eight international university campuses near Doha (Virginia Commonwealth, Weill Cornell, Texas A&M, Carnegie Mellon, Georgetown, Northwestern, HEC Paris, University College London, Calgary), and finances the RAND Policy Trust. It owns expensive properties in London, the Barcelona Football Club, and dabbles in other areas worldwide.\n\n14\n\nNowhere is this tendency clearer than in Qatar's support for international networks of terrorist organizations. While U.S. planes bomb outposts of ISIS from their Qatar airbase, Qatar is reputed to be sending money to ISIS, Hamas, Libyan jihadists, and others. Of course, the Qataris deny this. Standing beside German Chancellor Angela Merkel on September 27, Qatar's Emir Tamim bin Hamad al-Thani declared that, \"What is happening in Iraq and Syria is extremism and such organizations are partly financed from abroad, but Qatar has never supported and will never support terrorist organizations\".\n\n16, 17, 18\n\nThe fundamentalist anti-Semitic Islamic preacher, Shaykh Yusuf 'Abd Allah al-Qaradawi, regarded by many as the leading scholar of the Muslim Brotherhood, has been living in Qatar on and off since the 1960s, while preaching a fundamentalist and often pro-terrorist message there through his website, Islam Online, and his Shari'a and Life television show on Al Jazeera. The Qatari government has never sought to rein him in.\n\nQatar's major international charity, the Qatar Charitable Society (now simply Qatar Charity) has acted as a financier and agency for terrorist outfits in several countries. It has funded al-Qaeda in Chechnya, Mali and elsewhere, was a key player in the 1998 bombings of U.S. embassies in Kenya and Tanzania, and funded Syria's Ahfad al-Rasul Brigade. Qatar has also financed terrorists in northern Mali operations, including Ansar Dine, alleged to be linked to al-Qaeda in the Islamic Maghreb [North Africa]; and it retains contacts with (and no doubt still funds) al-Qaeda.\n\nAccording to David Blair and Richard Spencer, writing for London's Daily Telegraph, four branches of the Qatari government handle relations with armed groups in Syria and Libya. These are the Foreign and Defense Ministries, the Intelligence Agency, and the personal office [al-Diwan al-Amiri], of the Emir, who, as we have seen, flatly denies financing terrorism. The Amiri Diwan, as in Kuwait, appears in the lists of government ministries and offices.[5] Of course, Qatar does nothing directly. It prefers to use middlemen and to permit private individuals to do the work for it. Large sums are passed to middlemen in Turkey (itself no stranger to support for terrorism), and this money is used for the purchase of weapons from other countries (notably Croatia). The weapons are then transferred to rebel groups in Syria. It has also been claimed that money owed to British companies operating in Qatar has been siphoned off to Islamic State. This may require some ingenious application of the dark arts of bookkeeping, but it does provide another means of evading condemnation of the state.\n\n21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26\n\nPrivate fundraisers who coordinate donations from individual or corporate donors in Qatar are never detained or subjected to restrictions in Qatar, a privilege that means the transfer of considerable sums to al-Qaeda, Islamic State, Hamas, Jabhat al-Nusra and other Syrian Islamist groups.\n\nThe U.S. Treasury has given details of terrorist financiers operating in Qatar. The best known is 'Abd al-Rahman al-Nu'aymi, an academic and businessman who is a key link between Qatari donors and al-Qaeda in Iraq, the predecessor of today's Islamic State. At one time, Nu'aymi transferred $2 million per month to the organization. He has also sent around $576,000 to Abu Khalid al-Suri, al-Qaeda's Syrian representative, and $250,000 to the Somali jihadist group, al-Shabaab.\n\nThe U.S. Treasury Department has sanctioned Nu'aymi and other Qatari financiers in recent years. U.S. officials reckon that Qatar has now replaced Saudi Arabia as the source of the largest private donations to Islamic State and other al-Qaeda affiliates. The Qatari government has taken no steps to detain or punish al-Nu'aymi or anyone else, even though Islamist politics are, in theory, illegal in Qatar.\n\nBritish Prime Minister David Cameron was warned by many people, before his meeting with the Emir of Qatar, that he had to tackle the issue of Qatar's funding of terrorism. The two men met on October 29. Here is part of the official government news briefing on the meeting:\n\nOn international affairs, they discussed the role both countries are playing in the coalition to tackle ISIL, and the importance of all countries working to tackle extremism and support to terrorist organisations. The Prime Minister welcomed the recent legislation passed in Qatar to prevent terrorist funding and looked forward to the swift implementation of these new measures. They also agreed that both countries should do more to share information on groups of concern.\n\nNeed one add that among the matters discussed by these world leaders was Qatar's recent £20 billion investment in the U.K., and Cameron's offer of British expertise in construction to assist the Emirate in building the 2022 World Cup events? Money talks, and in supine Western countries just coming out of a major recession, it talks very loudly. Al-Thani walked away from his meeting with Cameron covered in glory for his country's supposed work to defeat Islamist terrorism worldwide.\n\n<https://www.gatestoneinstitute.org/4898/qatar-terrorism>\n\n\" **Islamist uprising in Syria\"**\n\n4, 5\n\nFollowing the Syrian occupation of Lebanon in 1976, a number of prominent Syrian officers and government servants, as well as \"professional men, doctors, teachers,\" were assassinated. Most of the victims were Alawis, \"which suggested that the assassins had targeted the community\" but \"no one could be sure who was behind\" the killings.[9] The Muslim Brotherhood which had disdain for the Alawites and considered them non-Muslims was most likely responsible for the terror.\n\nIt was speculated that the government of Saddam Hussein in Iraq provided logistical and military support to the Brotherhood.[10]\n\n<https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Islamist_uprising_in_Syria>\n\n\" **Haji Bakr\"**\n\n1\n\nSamir Abd Muhammad al-Khlifawi, better known by the nom de guerre Haji Bakr, was a senior leader of the militant group Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant (ISIL), heading its Military Council and leading its operations in Syria, prior to his killing by Syrian rebels in January 2014.[2][4] Previously a Colonel in the Iraqi Intelligence Service, papers found after his death indicated that al-Khlifawi played a key role in devising the plans ISIL used to conquer and administer territory in Syria and Iraq.[2]\n\n<https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Haji_Bakr>\n\n\" **Most Turks Do Not Support Erdogan's Syria Policy\", 2013**\n\n13\n\nThe United States, as well as Britain and France — which have been keen to arm the secular opposition — also remain concerned that any sophisticated weaponry sent to Syria might fall into the hands of jihadists there and be turned against the West in the future. Much to Ankara's annoyance, its initial support for radical Islamist groups like Jabhat al-Nusra has thus, in effect, turned into a handicap for the Erdogan government, because the fear that sophisticated weapons might go to the jihadists is limiting Western support to the opposition. If Davutoglu had not been so keen in his support of these groups, and instead had concentrated on the secular and democratic elements in the opposition, he might have made more headway in convincing the West to help the opposition in a meaningful manner.\n\n17\n\nPresident Obama has, after all, to consider the opposition by the American public to getting involved militarily in Syria. NBC reported on June 17 that a \"whopping 70% of Americans\" said in a Pew Research Center poll that they opposed the United States and its allies sending arms to anti-government forces in Syria.\n\n http://www.al-monitor.com/pulse/originals/2013/06/turkey-erdogan-syria-policy-qusair.html\n\n\" **Senior Western official: Links between Turkey and ISIS are now 'undeniable\", 2015**\n\n4\n\nNATO member Turkey has long been accused by experts, Kurds, and even Joe Biden of enabling ISIS by turning a blind eye to the vast smuggling networks of weapons and fighters during the ongoing Syrian war.\n\n http://www.businessinsider.com/links-between-turkey-and-isis-are-now-undeniable-2015-7\n\n\" **Assad regime cooperating with Islamic State in Syria\", 2016**\n\n http://www.timesofisrael.com/report-assad-regime-cooperating-with-islamic-state-in-syria/\n\n\" **IS Files Reveal Assad's Deals With Militants\", 2016**\n\n1\n\nIslamic State and the Assad regime in Syria have been colluding with each other in deals on the battleground, Sky News can reveal.\n\n http://news.sky.com/story/is-files-reveal-assads-deals-with-militants-10267238\n\n\" **Why Assad may be helping Islamic State's offensive\", 2015**\n\n6, 7, 8, 9\n\nThere are two main reasons. The first is the region's importance to the rebel forces. Aleppo's northern countryside is considered to be one of the largest rebel strongholds with access to Turkey, as well as the rebels' only gateway to the city of Aleppo.\n\nOn Feb. 17, the regime tried hard to isolate the northern countryside from the rest of the areas that are under rebel control to blockade the city of Aleppo by attacking the towns of Hardatneen, Retyan and al-Mallah. But, regime forces were met with stiff resistance by the rebels, who considered the battle to be a matter of life and death. As a result, 300 regime troops were killed, according to statements made to Al-Monitor by the former military commander of al-Jabha al-Shamiya (Shamiya Front), Lt. Col. Abu Bakr.\n\nIS' advance in Aleppo's northern countryside is sure to weaken the rebels there; as a result, the regime will achieve, with minimal losses, its goal of besieging the rebels in Aleppo city, as the only supply route to it is the Castello road.\n\nThe second reason for the recent strikes against rebel areas is that the Assad regime faces two main foes in Syria: IS, against which the United States is leading an international coalition, and rebels backed by a variety of regional powers, most notably Turkey, Qatar and Saudi Arabia. In that context, it is only logical that the regime would prefer eliminating an enemy that receives backing, weapons and funds from regional sources, and leave the task of weakening its primary enemy, IS, to the international coalition. Consequently, the regime's presumed elimination of Syrian rebels would force the international community and the factions that back those rebels into allying themselves with Assad to finish off IS.\n\n http://www.al-monitor.com/pulse/originals/2015/06/syria-aleppo-regime-army-assad-support-isis-marea-tlalin.html\n\n\" **Syria's Muslim Brotherhood is gaining influence over anti-Assad revolt\", 2012**\n\n1, 2, 3 Παράγραφος\n\nAfter three decades of persecution that virtually eradicated its presence, the Syrian Muslim Brotherhood has resurrected itself to become the dominant group in the fragmented opposition movement pursuing a 14-month uprising against President Bashar al-Assad.\n\nExiled Brotherhood members and their supporters hold the biggest number of seats in the Syrian National Council, the main opposition umbrella group. They control its relief committee, which distributes aid and money to Syrians participating in the revolt. The Brotherhood is also moving on its own to send funding and weapons to the rebels, who continued to skirmish Saturday with Syrian troops despite a month-old U.N.-brokered cease-fire.\n\nThe revival marks an extraordinary comeback for an organization that was almost annihilated after the last revolt in Syria, which ended in the killing by government forces of as many as 25,000 people in the city of Hama in 1982. Only those who managed to flee abroad survived the purge.\n\n5\n\nBrotherhood leaders say they have been reaching out to Syria's neighbors, including Jordan, Iraq and Lebanon — as well as to U.S. and European diplomats — to reassure them that they have no intention of dominating a future Syrian political system or establishing any form of Islamist government.\n\n8, 9, 10, 11, 12 , 13 , 14\n\nOf far greater concern to the United States and other Western countries are recent indications that extremists are seeking to muscle their way into the revolt, said Andrew Tabler of the Washington Institute for Near East policy. The double suicide bombing in Damascus last week, in which 55 people died in circumstances reminiscent of the worst of the violence in Iraq, bore the hallmarks of an al-Qaeda attack, deepening suspicions that militants have been relocating from Iraq to Syria.\n\nOn Saturday, a group calling itself the al-Nusra Front asserted responsibility for the attack in a statement posted on a jihadist Web site.\n\nThe Brotherhood is eager to distance itself from the jihadists, whose radical vision of an Islamic caliphate spanning the globe bears no resemblance to its philosophy.\n\nAs the Brotherhood starts distributing weapons inside the country, using donations from individual members and from Persian Gulf states including Qatar and Saudi Arabia, it is going to great lengths to ensure that they don't fall into the hands of extremists, Drobi said.\n\n\"We have on the ground our networks, and we make sure they don't distribute arms to those who are not within the streamline of the revolution,\" Drobi said.\n\nOther leaders also stress the moderation of the group's policies, even by comparison with the original Brotherhood movement in Egypt, to which the Syrian branch is very loosely affiliated.\n\nSyria's Muslim Brotherhood would support NATO intervention to help the opposition topple Assad, and it has published a manifesto outlining its vision of a future democratic state that makes no mention of Islam and enshrines individual liberties, said Mohammed Farouk Tayfour, who is the movement's deputy leader, vice president of the Syrian National Council and head of the council's relief committee, making him perhaps the most powerful figure in the opposition.\n\n16, 17,18\n\nSyria's long history of secularism and its substantial minority population also make it unlikely the Brotherhood would ever achieve the kind of dominance it appears to have won in Egypt or Tunisia, analysts and activists say. Drobi predicted that the Brotherhood would win 25 percent of the vote if democratic elections were to be held.\n\nEven that could be optimistic, experts say. A third of Syria's population belongs to religious or ethnic minorities, among them Christians, Alawites, Shiites and Kurds, who share concerns about the potential rise of Sunni Islamism.\n\nIt is in large part a measure of the dysfunction of the rest of the opposition that the Brotherhood has managed to assert itself as the only group with a national reach, at a time when most of the uprising's internal leadership is atomized around local committees that don't coordinate, said Yezid Sayigh of the Carnegie Middle East Center in Beirut.\n\n26, 27\n\nThe Muslim Brothers have resources, and they get help from Saudi Arabia and the gulf states,\" said Mousab al-Hamadi, an activist in Hama with the secular Local Coordination Committees. \"They have a long history behind them, whereas other groups like us are newly born.\"\n\n\"From the point of view of religion, most Syrians don't accept political Islam,\" he added. \"But the people here are still Muslim, and they are still conservative, so I think the Muslim Brotherhood will become the biggest political power in Syria after the departure of the Assad regime. And I will be the biggest loser.\"\n\n https://www.washingtonpost.com/world/syrias-muslim-brotherhood-is-gaining-influence-over-anti-assad-revolt/2012/05/12/gIQAtIoJLU_story.html\n\n\" **Governmental positions on the Iraq War prior to the 2003 invasion of Iraq : Turkey\"**\n\nTurkey originally showed reservations, fearing that a power vacuum after Saddam's defeat might have given rise to a Kurdish state [14] On 1 March 2003 the Turkish parliament failed narrowly to approve a government motion to permit the deployment in Turkey for six months of 62,000 US troops, 255 jet aircraft, and 65 helicopters.[15]\n\nIn December 2002, Turkey moved approximately 15,000 soldiers to its border with Iraq.[16] The Turkish General Staff stated that this move was in light of recent developments and did not indicate an attack was imminent. In January 2003, the Turkish foreign minister, Yasar Yakis, said he was examining documents from the time of the Ottoman Empire in order to determine whether Turkey had a claim to the oil fields around the northern Iraqi cities of Mosul and Kirkuk.\n\nIn late January 2003, Turkey invited at least five other regional countries to a \"'last-chance' meeting to avert a US-led war against Iraq. The group urged neighboring Iraq to continue cooperating with the UN inspections, and publicly stated that \"military strikes on Iraq might further destabilize the Middle East region\".\n\nIn the end, Turkey did not grant access to its land and harbours as asked for by U.S. officials because the Grand National Assembly of Turkey voted against this proposal.[17] Nonetheless, Turkey was named by the Bush Administration as a part of the \"Coalition of the Willing.\"\n\n https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Governmental_positions_on_the_Iraq_War_prior_to_the_2003_invasion_of_Iraq#Turkey\n\n\" **How Isis came to be\", 2014**\n\n3, 4, 5, 6, 7\n\nPrincipally, Isis is the product of a genocide that continued unabated as the world stood back and watched. It is the illegitimate child born of pure hate and pure fear – the result of 200,000 murdered Syrians and of millions more displaced and divorced from their hopes and dreams. Isis's rise is also a reminder of how Bashar al-Assad's Machiavellian embrace of al-Qaida would come back to haunt him.\n\nFacing Assad's army and intelligence services, Lebanon's Hezbollah, Iraq's Shia Islamist militias and their grand patron, Iran's Revolutionary Guards, Syria's initially peaceful protesters quickly became disenchanted, disillusioned and disenfranchised – and then radicalised and violently militant.\n\nThe Shia Islamist axis used chemical weapons, artillery and barrel bombs to preserve its crescent of influence. Syria's Sunni Arab revolutionaries in turn sought international assistance, and when the world refused, they embraced a pact with the devil, al-Qaida.\n\nWith its fiercely loyal army of transnational jihadis, al-Qaida once again gained a foothold in the heart of the Middle East. Fuelled by the hate and fear engendered by images of dismembered children or women suffering from the effects of chemical weapons, disaffected youth from around the world rushed to Syria, fuelling an ever more violent race to the bottom.\n\nNext door in Iraq, an emboldened Nouri al-Maliki waged his own sectarian campaign to consolidate power, betraying promises to his political partners to share it around. Within days of being welcomed at the WhiteHouse and praised by Barack Obama for his leadership, Maliki returned to Baghdad to mastermind the arrest of his principal Sunni rival, vice-president Tariq al-Hashimi.\n\nSupported by Iran and armed with US-made Humvees, M-16s, and M1A1 tanks, Maliki's forces closed in on Hashimi, only to see him flee to Kurdistan. Dozens of his guards were imprisoned on terrorism charges. At least one of them died under interrogation.\n\n9\n\nFacing mass unrest, Iraq's Sunni Arab provincial councils voted for semi-autonomous rule like that of the neighbouring Kurdistan region. Maliki blocked the implementation of a referendum through bureaucratic ploys, in contravention of Iraq's constitution.\n\n12\n\nDespite pleas from the highest levels in Washington, Maliki's government did virtually nothing to halt the Iranian Revolutionary Guards' flights to resupply the Assad regime with thousands of tons of military hardware and ammunition. Meanwhile, a Shia Islamist ally of Maliki privately conceded to me last year that senior officials in the Iraqi government were turning a blind eye – or even actively supporting – the dispatch of thousands of Iraqi Shia fighters to participate in the spiralling Shia-Sunni holy war in Syria.\n\n14, 15, 16, 17\n\nIronically, al-Qaida's wholesale introduction into Iraq came at the hands of Assad's regime. From 2005 until the end of the American occupation of Iraq, Assad's military intelligence services and their Iranian backers sought to defeat the US forces by training, financing and arming al-Qaida operatives inside Syria and dispatching them across the border to foment chaos and destruction.\n\nGeneral David Petraeus and other senior American officials warned Assad that he was igniting a fire that would eventually burn his house down, but Damascus did nothing to stop the flow of fighters, culminating in a crippling blow to Maliki's government the day Iraq's foreign and finance ministries were bombed. Maliki publicly condemned his future ally in Damascus for the attack.\n\nAnd so, Syria's unravelling spilled into Iraq, and vice versa. Powerful regional tribes such as the Shammar and Anezah, faced with countless dead and persecuted members in both countries, banded together with former Iraqi and Syrian military officers, embracing Isis jihadis as their frontline shock troops. Cash poured in from sympathetic donors around the region.\n\nIraq's four Sunni Arab provinces fell within days, entire Iraqi army divisions evaporated, and hundreds of millions of dollars worth of advanced American military equipment was seized by Isis and its allies. Fuelled by what was increasingly a regional Sunni-Shia proxy war, Iraq and Syria had become incubators for transnational jihad and religious hate.\n\n https://www.theguardian.com/world/2014/aug/22/syria-iraq-incubators-isis-jihad\n\n\" **Russia's approach to ISIL: the hidden benefit of evil\"**\n\n1, 2\n\nMany Western observers relate ISIL (Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant) with the resurrection of medieval barbarians. But it could actually be more usefully compared with revolutionary movements of the past, notably the 1917 Bolshevik Revolution in Russia. ISIL shares with the Bolsheviks the peculiar \"internationalism\" that implies it could absorb people regardless of ethnicity, race or place of origin. Paradoxically, this aspect of ISIL has had positive implications for Russia.\n\nIt has served to stimulate the disintegration of Russia's homegrown Islamists' resistance with many members moving to the Middle East, reducing the internal threat. Moreover, it has provided Moscow with the opportunity to engage in the Middle East where – despite the Kremlin's proclamations – its interests are only indirectly related to the fight against ISIL.\n\n http://www.nato.int/docu/Review/2015/ISIL/Russia-Syria-Putin-ISIL-Chechnya-Middle-East/EN/index.htm\n\n\" **Syria: Russian PM warns of world war if troops sent in\", 2016**\n\n2, 3, 4, 5\n\nMedvedev was quoted as saying in an interview published late on Thursday by the German newspaper Handelsblatt that \"a ground operation draws everyone taking part in it into a war\".\n\nWhen asked about a recent proposal from Saudi Arabia to send ground troops into Syria, the Russian prime minister answered that \"the Americans and our Arab partners must consider whether or not they want a permanent war\".\n\nAl Jazeera's Rory Challands, reporting from Moscow, said Medvedev's comments were an explicit warning to the United States and its regional allies, including Saudi Arabia.\n\n\"He basically told them to back off on sending troops because if they did, this might result in some sort of interminable or even a world war,\" Challands said.\n\n7, 8\n\nUS defence chief Ashton Carter, meanwhile, welcomed a commitment from Saudi Arabia to expand its role with ground troops in Syria against the Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant (ISIL) group.\n\nAt a gathering of more than two dozen defence ministers at NATO headquarters, Carter said on Friday that the United Arab Emirates, a key ally, agreed to send special forces soldiers to Syria to assist in the development of local Sunni Arab fighters focused on recapturing Raqqa, ISIL's de facto capital.\n\n http://www.aljazeera.com/news/2016/02/syria-russian-pm-warns-world-war-troops-160212074839609.html\n\n\" **ISIS and the 'Loser Effect'\", 2016**\n\n5\n\nAnd then Islamic State's Icarus flight suddenly stalled. By one estimate, since January 2015, ISIS has lost 22 percent of its territory, including the cities of Tikrit and Ramadi in Iraq, as well as strategic areas of northern Syria, which has limited the group's capacity to sell oil across the Turkish border. In recent months, ISIS has largely been playing defense: It hasn't launched a major offensive since last summer. It has been hit by the death of key commanders and an uptick in defections. U.S. officials claim that ISIS's ranks are at their lowest level since 2014.\n\n http://www.theatlantic.com/international/archive/2016/04/is-isis-losing/480336/\n\n\" **BIRTH OF THE ISIS\"**\n\n4\n\nIn Saddam's days the Armed Forces, made up almost exclusively of Sunnis, counted roughly 500 thousand men in their ranks. Additionally, Baath party supporters in Ministries and other public structures were in the millions. Bremer's directives landed a few million Iraqi families on the sidewalk and – this is the dangerous part – forced many to join the ranks of the opposition while the ones with military know-how tried to find a military solution to the social conflict. These are the premises for the birth of the warfare against the new Shiite leadership in Baghdad.\n\n9, 10\n\nZarqawi's terrorist experience ended on June 7, 2006, when a US airplane targeted his refuge in Baquba, north of Baghdad. Together with him died his fourth wife and some of his lieutenants. The killing of Abu Musab al Zarqawi would not, however, remove the founding element of the Jihadist rebellion: the resentment of the Sunni, who were by then united under a Salafite flag against the Shiite administration in Baghdad. This is why in 2006 the ISI (Islamic State in Iraq) was born. Only later, in April 2013, will the final \"S\" be added; the \"S\" that stands for Syria or \"Sham\": Damascus.\n\nThe ISI was initially headed by Abu Omar al Baghdadi, aka Hamid Dawud Mohamed Khalil al Zawi. His vice was an Egyptian national, Abu Ayyub al Masri, who also went by a pseudonym, Abu Hamza al-Muhajir. The ISI was not made up of Zarqawi's group alone, it had absorbed several smaller factions, such as the \"Council of the Shura of the Mujaheddin\" and the \"Jund al Sahaba\" (The army of the companions of the Prophet). Abu Bakr al Baghdadi became a member of the ISI in virtue of his militancy in the Coordination Committee of the Council of the Shura of the Mujaheddin and thanks to the people he had met in Camp Bucca. Al Baghdadi's strengths were an in-depth knowledge of the Islamic doctrine, which he had studied in a doctorate at the Islamic University of Baghdad, and a strong background in Jihadist theory, which was the fruit of his mingling with the Muslim Brothers and of his reading the works of the \"bad teachers\" of the holy war: Abu Mohammed al Maqdisi, Sayyid Qubt, Abu Mohammed al Mufti al Aali.\n\n12\n\nOn April 18, 2010, a joint US-Iraqi operation in the region of Anbar put an end to the lives and times of the leaders of the ISI, Abu Omar and Abu Ayyub. It is then that Abu Bakr al Baghdadi, who went by the name of Abu Dua, took over. Not everyone was agreeable with his promotion, but then again, he did descend from the tribe of Quraish, just like the Prophet.\n\n<http://www.invisible-dog.com/isis_birth_eng.html>\n\n\" **DID GEORGE W. BUSH CREATE ISIS?\", 2015**\n\n1, 2\n\nThe exchange started like this: at the end of Jeb Bush's town-hall meeting in Reno, Nevada, on Wednesday, a college student named Ivy Ziedrich stood up and said that she had heard Bush blame the growth of isis on President Obama, in particular on his decision to withdraw American troops from Iraq in 2011. The origins of isis, Ziedrich said, lay in the decision by Bush's brother, in 2003, to disband the Iraqi Army following the toppling of Saddam Hussein's government.\n\n\"It was when thirty thousand individuals who were part of the Iraqi military were forced out—they had no employment, they had no income, and they were left with access to all of the same arms and weapons.... Your brother created isis,'' she said.\n\n4\n\nJeb replied by repeating his earlier criticism of President Obama: that Iraq had been stable until American troops had departed. \"When we left Iraq, security had been arranged,\" Bush said. The removal of American troops had created a security vacuum that isis exploited. \"The result was the opposite occurred. Immediately, that void was filled.\"\n\n6\n\nHere is what happened: In 2003, the U.S. military, on orders of President Bush, invaded Iraq, and nineteen days later threw out Saddam's government. A few days after that, President Bush or someone in his Administration decreed the dissolution of the Iraqi Army. This decision didn't throw \"thirty thousand individuals\" out of a job, as Ziedrich said—the number was closer to ten times that. Overnight, at least two hundred and fifty thousand Iraqi men—armed, angry, and with military training—were suddenly humiliated and out of work.\n\n7, 8 , 9\n\nThis was probably the single most catastrophic decision of the American venture in Iraq. In a stroke, the Administration helped enable the creation of the Iraqi insurgency. Bush Administration officials involved in the decision—like Paul Bremer and Walter Slocombe—argued that they were effectively ratifying the reality that the Iraqi Army had already disintegrated.\n\nThis was manifestly not true. I talked to American military commanders who told me that leaders of entire Iraqi divisions (a division has roughly ten thousand troops) had come to them for instructions and expressed a willingness to coöperate. In fact, many American commanders argued vehemently at the time that the Iraqi military should be kept intact—that disbanding it would turn too many angry young men against the United States. But the Bush White House went ahead.\n\nMany of those suddenly unemployed Iraqi soldiers took up arms against the United States. We'll never know for sure how many Iraqis would have stayed in the Iraqi Army—and stayed peaceful—had it remained intact. But the evidence is overwhelming that former Iraqi soldiers formed the foundation of the insurgency.\n\n11, 12, 13\n\nDuring the course of the war, Al Qaeda in Iraq grew to be the most powerful wing of the insurgency, as well as the most violent and the most psychotic. They drove truck bombs into mosques and weddings and beheaded their prisoners. But, by the time the last American soldiers had departed, in 2011, the Islamic State of Iraq, as it was then calling itself, was in a state of near-total defeat. The combination of the Iraqi-led \"awakening,\" along with persistent American pressure, had decimated the group and pushed them into a handful of enclaves.\n\nIndeed, by 2011 the situation in Iraq—as former Governor Bush said—was relatively stable. \"Relatively\" is the key word here. Iraq was still a violent place, but nowhere near as violent as it had been. The Iraqi government was being run by Prime Minister Nuri al-Maliki, a fervent Al Qaeda foe and ostensible American ally.\n\nBut, as the last Americans left Iraq, there came the great uprising in Syria that pitted the country's vast Sunni majority against the ruthless regime of Bashar al-Assad. Syria quickly dissolved into anarchy. Desperate and seeing an opportunity, Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi, the leader of the Islamic State of Iraq, dispatched a handful of soldiers to Syria, where, in a matter of months, they had gathered an army of followers and had begun attacking the Assad regime. Suddenly, Baghdadi's group—which had been staggering toward the grave only months before—was regaining strength. In 2013, the I.S.I. became the Islamic State of Iraq in Syria. isis was born.\n\n15, 16, 17, 18\n\nIn this sense, Ziedrich is right again, at least notionally: some of the men fighting in isis were put out of work by the American occupiers in 2003. Still, it's not clear—and it will never be clear—how many of these Iraqis might have remained peaceful had the Americans kept the Iraqi Army intact. One of the Iraqis closest to Baghdadi was Ibrahim Izzat al-Douri, a senior official in Saddam's government until 2003. (Douri was reported killed last month—it's still not clear if he was or not.) It's hard to imagine that Douri—or any other hardcore member of Saddam's Baath Party—would have ever willingly taken part in an American occupation, whether he had a job or not. So, in this sense, Ziedrich is overstating the case. While it's true that George W. Bush took actions that helped enable the creation of the Iraqi insurgency, and that some leaders of the insurgency formed isis, it's not true that he \"created\" isis. And there's a good argument to be made that an insurgency would have formed following the invasion of Iraq even if President Bush had kept the Iraqi Army together. He just helped to make the insurgency bigger.\n\nBut let's get to Governor Bush's assertion—that Iraq went down the tubes because of President Obama's decision to pull out all American forces, and that Obama could easily have left behind a residual force that would have kept the peace.\n\nI took up this issue last year in a Profile of Maliki, the Iraqi leader we left in place. Maliki didn't really want any Americans to stay in Iraq, and Obama didn't, either. But—and this is a crucial point—it seems possible that, if Obama had pushed Maliki harder, the United States could have retained a small force of soldiers there in noncombat roles. More than a few Americans and Iraqis told me this. They blame Obama for not trying harder. \"You just had this policy vacuum and this apathy,\" Michael Barbero, the commander of American forces in Iraq in 2011, told me, describing the Obama White House.\n\nSo, on this, Governor Bush isn't entirely accurate, but makes a good point: the Obama Administration might have been able to keep some forces in Iraq if it had really tried.\n\n20\n\nThis much is clear: after 2011, with no Americans on the ground, Maliki was free to indulge his worst sectarian impulses, and he rapidly and ruthlessly repressed Iraq's Sunni minority, imprisoning thousands of young men on no charges, thereby radicalizing the Sunnis who weren't in prison. When, in June, 2014, isis came rolling in, anything seemed better than Maliki to many of Iraq's Sunnis.\n\n http://www.newyorker.com/news/news-desk/did-george-w-bush-create-isis\n\n\" **Syria: The story of the conflict\", 2016**\n\n1, 2, 3\n\nPro-democracy protests erupted in March 2011 in the southern city of Deraa after the arrest and torture of some teenagers who painted revolutionary slogans on a school wall. After security forces opened fire on demonstrators, killing several, more took to the streets.\n\nThe unrest triggered nationwide protests demanding President Assad's resignation. The government's use of force to crush the dissent merely hardened the protesters' resolve. By July 2011, hundreds of thousands were taking to the streets across the country.\n\nOpposition supporters eventually began to take up arms, first to defend themselves and later to expel security forces from their local areas.\n\n<http://www.bbc.com/news/world-middle-east-26116868>\n\n\" **U.S.-backed Syria rebels routed by fighters linked to al-Qaeda\", 2014**\n\n2, 3\n\nModerate rebels who had been armed and trained by the United States either surrendered or defected to the extremists as the Jabhat al-Nusra group, affiliated with al-Qaeda, swept through the towns and villages the moderates controlled in the northern province of Idlib, in what appeared to be a concerted push to vanquish the moderate Free Syrian Army, according to rebel commanders, activists and analysts.\n\nOther moderate fighters were on the run, headed for the Turkish border as the extremists closed in, heralding a significant defeat for the rebel forces Washington had been counting on as a bulwark against the Islamic State.\n\n6, 7\n\nJabhat al-Nusra has long been regarded by Syrians as less radical than the breakaway Islamic State faction, and it had participated alongside moderate rebels in battles against the Islamic State earlier this year. But it is also on the U.S. list of terrorist organizations and is the only group in Syria that has formally declared its allegiance to the mainstream al-Qaeda leadership.\n\nA Jabhat al-Nusra base was one of the first targets hit when the United States launched its air war in Syria in September, and activists said the tensions fueled by that attack had contributed to the success of the group's push against the moderate rebels.\n\n11, 12\n\nAmong the groups whose bases were overrun in the assault was Harakat Hazm, the biggest recipient of U.S. assistance offered under a small-scale, covert CIA program launched this year, including the first deliveries of U.S.-made TOW antitank missiles. The group's headquarters outside the village of Khan Subbul was seized by Jabhat al-Nusra overnight Saturday, after rebel fighters there surrendered their weapons and fled without a fight, according to residents in the area.\n\nHussam Omar, a spokesman for Harakat Hazm, refused to confirm whether American weaponry had been captured by the al-Qaeda affiliate because, he said, negotiations with Jabhat al-Nusra are underway.\n\n https://www.washingtonpost.com/world/us-backed-syria-rebels-routed-by-fighters-linked-to-al-qaeda/2014/11/02/7a8b1351-8fb7-4f7e-a477-66ec0a0aaf34_story.html\n\n\" **Turkey and Saudi Arabia alarm the West by backing Islamist extremists the Americans had bombed in Syria\",2015**\n\n1, 2 , 3\n\nTurkey and Saudi Arabia are actively supporting a hardline coalition of Islamist rebels against Bashar al-Assad's regime that includes al-Qaeda's affiliate in Syria, in a move that has alarmed Western governments.\n\nThe two countries are focusing their backing for the Syrian rebels on the combined Jaish al-Fatah, or the Army of Conquest, a command structure for jihadist groups in Syria that includes Jabhat al-Nusra, an extremist rival to Isis which shares many of its aspirations for a fundamentalist caliphate.\n\nThe decision by the two leading allies of the West to back a group in which al-Nusra plays a leading rle has alarmed Western governments and is at odds with the US, which is firmly opposed to arming and funding jihadist extremists in Syria's long-running civil war.\n\n6, 7, 8, 9\n\nRelations had been fraught between the Turkish president and the late King Abdullah, primarily because of Turkey's support for the Muslim Brotherhood, which the Saudi monarchy considers a threat. But Mr Erdogan stressed to Saudi officials that the lack of Western action in Syria, especially the failure to impose a \"no-fly zone\", meant that regional powers now needed to come together and take the lead to help the opposition.\n\nThe Army of Conquest – which also numbers the extremist groups Ahrar al-Sham and Jund al-Aqsa among its seven members – has a command centre in Idlib, northern Syria. Turkish officials admit giving logistical and intelligence support to the command headquarters. Although they deny giving direct help to al-Nusra, they acknowledge that the group would be beneficiaries.\n\nThey also acknowledge links with Ahrar al-Sham, which is held to be extremist by the US, but has fought against Isis, as has al-Nusra in some parts of Syria. Turkish officials claim that bolstering Ahrar al-Sham will weaken the influence of al-Nusra.\n\nMaterial support – arms and money – have been coming from the Saudis, say rebels and officials, with the Turks facilitating its passage. The border villages of Guvecci, Kuyubasi, Hacipasa, Besaslan, Kusakli and Bukulmez are the favoured routes, according to rebel sources.\n\n11, 12\n\nThere have been complaints from the Saudis that the US, needing the support of Shia Iran against Isis in Iraq, and hopeful of an accord over Iran's nuclear programme, is becoming less interested in the removal of Tehran's client regime in Damascus.\n\nFurther evidence of dissatisfaction over the US approach among Sunni states came yesterday with the news that King Salman has withdrawn from a summit with Barack Obama at the White House on the Iran nuclear talks this week: he will be represented instead by Crown Prince Mohammed bin Nayef. Of the six heads of Gulf States invited, only the emirs of Qatar and Kuwait are now due to attend.\n\n17, 18, 19\n\nA key sign of rapprochement between Turkey and Saudi Arabia has been over the Muslim Brotherhood. The Saudis welcomed the coup against Mohamed Morsi's government in Egypt, but the group has been staunchly supported by Turkey since Mr Erdogan came to power. Now, say diplomats and officials, Saudi Arabia has accepted a continued role for the Brotherhood in the Syrian opposition.\n\nRebel fighters in Syria claim that after Western-sponsored groups lost ground to al-Nusra last year, Washington began to cut off funding for most of the supposedly moderate groups. Harakat al-Hazm, originally the most favoured of these, had its cash funding halved; the rebel Farouq Brigade had all funds cut off.\n\nAbdulatif al-Sabbagh, an officer with Ahrar al-Sham, said: \"The Americans backed people who said they were revolutionaries, but these people were corrupt and incompetent... Jaish al-Fatah is successful is because we all fight together. But we are all against Daesh [Isis] just as we are against Bashar. The Americans are bombing Daesh but doing nothing against the regime, that's why we have got together to fight them.\"\n\n http://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/middle-east/syria-crisis-turkey-and-saudi-arabia-shock-western-countries-by-supporting-anti-assad-jihadists-10242747.html\n\n\" **ISIS leaders remain in close contact with Ankara – Lavrov\", 2016**\n\n2 , 3\n\nThe leaders of Islamic State maintain a constant liaison with the Turkish government, working out a new approach to the war in Syria as the Russian Air Force cuts off traditional smuggling routes, says Russian Foreign Minister Sergey Lavrov.\n\nThe airstrikes of the Russian Air Force in Syria have severely disrupted \"traditional smuggling routes,\" so the Turks are discussing in all seriousness creation of \"IS-free zones\" in Syria.\n\n<https://www.rt.com/news/332026-turkey-talks-isis-lavrov/>\n\n\" **Turkey to propose cooperation with Russia on fighting ISIS\", 2016**\n\n1, 2, 3 , 4\n\nTurkey said on Monday it wanted to cooperate with Moscow in combating Islamic State in Syria but denied having suggested it might allow Russia to use its Incirlik Air Base, near the Syrian frontier.\n\nTurkish President Tayyip Erdogan last week expressed regret over last year's shooting down of a Russian warplane, with the loss of the pilot.\n\nMoscow, which had broken off virtually all economic ties and banned tourists from visiting Turkish resorts, pledged in return to help rebuild relations.\n\nIn an interview with Turkish state television on Sunday, Turkish Foreign Minister Mevlut Cavusoglu had appeared to suggest Ankara could open up Incirlik to Russia, a move that could raise concern among Turkey's NATO partners already using the base, including the United States.\n\n http://uk.businessinsider.com/turkey-to-propose-cooperation-with-russia-on-fighting-isis-2016-7\n\n\" **Into the Quagmire: Turkey's Frustrated Syria Policy\", 2012**\n\n https://www.chathamhouse.org/sites/files/chathamhouse/public/Research/Middle%20East/1212bp_phillips.pdf\n\n\" **Al-Nusra Front : Split with ISIL 2013\"**\n\nBy January 2013, Nusra was a formidable force with strong popular support in Syria,[91] and it continued to grow in strength during the following months.[102] On 8 April 2013, the leader of the then Islamic State of Iraq (ISI), Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi, released a recorded audio message on the Internet, in which he announced that Jabhat al-Nusra was part of his network,[103] and that he was merging Jabhat al-Nusra with ISI into one group, \"Islamic State of Iraq and al-Sham\" (ISIL ), under his command.[91][104] Al-Baghdadi also said that Abu Mohammad al-Julani had been dispatched by the ISI to Syria to meet with pre-existing cells in the country and that the ISI had provided Jabhat al-Nusra with the plans and strategy needed for the Syrian Civil War, and had been funding their activities.[104]\n\nThe next day al-Julani rejected the merger and affirmed the group's allegiance to al-Qaeda and its leader, Ayman al-Zawahiri.[91] Al-Julani was quoted as saying, \"We inform you that neither the al-Nusra command nor its consultative council, nor its general manager were aware of this announcement. It reached them via the media and if the speech is authentic, we were not consulted.\"[105] Nusra then split, with some members, particularly foreign fighters, followed Baghdadi's edict and joined ISIL, while others stayed loyal to Golani or left to join other Islamist brigades.[91][106][107]\n\nIn May 2013, Reuters reported that al-Baghdadi had travelled from Iraq to Syria's Aleppo Governorate province and begun recruiting members of al-Nusra.[108] Sometime in May 2013, al-Julani was reportedly injured by an airstrike conducted by the Syrian government.[109] In June 2013, Al Jazeera reported that it had obtained a letter written by al-Qaeda leader Ayman al-Zawahiri, addressed to both Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi and Abu Mohammad al-Julani, in which he ruled against the merger of the two organisations and appointed an emissary to oversee relations between them and put an end to tensions.[110] Later in the month, an audio message from al-Baghdadi was released in which he rejected al-Zawahiri's ruling and declared that the merger of the two organisations into the Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant was going ahead. This sequence of events caused much confusion and division amongst members of al-Nusra.[107]\n\nIn November 2013, Al-Zawahiri ordered the disbandment of ISIL and said al-Nusra should be considered the (only) al-Qaeda branch in Syria,[49]and bestowed the title \"Tanzim Qa'edat Al-Jihad fi Bilad Al-Sham\" (\"the Qae'dat Al-Jihad organization in the Levant\") on them, officially integrating Nusra into al-Qaeda's global network.[47]\n\nSome units of al-Nusra began taking part in clashes against the Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant in late 2013.[111]\n\nIn February 2014, after efforts to end the dispute between ISIL and Nusra had failed, al-Qaeda formally dissociated itself from its onetime affiliate ISIL, leaving Jabhat al-Nusra the sole representative of al-Qaeda in Syria.[112] In the same month, al-Julani threatened to go to war with ISIL over their suspected role in the killing of senior Ahrar ash-Sham commander Abu Khaled al-Souri. Al-Julani gave ISIL five days to submit evidence that they were innocent of the attack to three imprisoned Jihadist clerics, Abu Muhammad al-Maqdisi, Abu Qatada al-Falastini, and Suleiman al-Alwan.[113] On 16 April 2014, ISIL killed al-Nusra's Idlib chief Abu Mohammad al-Ansari together with his family, the Syrian Observatory for Human Rights reported.[114] In May 2014, open fighting broke out between ISIL and al-Nusra in Deir ez-Zor Governorate, leaving hundreds dead on both sides.[115]\n\nBy July 2014, al-Nusra had largely been expelled from Deir ez-Zor Governorate.[116] Also in July, an audio recording attributed to al-Julani appeared online, in which he said that al-Nusra planned to establish an Islamic emirate in the areas of Syria where they had a presence. A statement issued on 12 July 2014 by al-Nusra's media channel affirmed the authenticity of the recording, but stated that they had not yet declared the establishment of an emirate.[117][118][119][120]\n\nIn June 2015, al-Julani stated in regards to ISIL: \"There is no solution between us and them in the meantime, or in the foreseeable future [...] We hope they repent to God and return to their senses ... if not, then there is nothing but fighting between us.\"[64]\n\nOn 12 February 2015, SITE Intelligence Group cited rumours that Nusra leader al-Julani had plans to disassociate from al-Qaeda.[121]\n\nOn 4 March, \"sources within and close to al-Nusra\" reportedly had said to Reuters that in the past months Qatar and other Gulf states had talked with Nusra leader Abu Mohammad al-Julani and encouraged him to abandon al-Qaeda, promising funding to Nusra once that break-up was carried out. An official close to the Qatari government had confirmed to Reuters that Qatar wanted Nusra to become purely Syrian and disconnect from al-Qaeda, after which Qatar would start to support Nusra with money and supplies. Muzamjer al-Sham, reportedly a 'prominent jihadi close to Nusra' had said that Nusra would soon merge with Jaish al-Muhajireen wal-Ansar and other small jihadi brigades and disengage from al-Qaeda, but that not all Nusra emirs had yet agreed to that.[53]\n\nOn 9 March 2015, in a statement issued on Twitter, al-Nusra denied \"completely all reports of a meeting with Qatari\" and reports of a break-up with al-Qaeda. Expert Thomas Pierret at the University of Edinburgh assumed that Qatar was trying to force the hand of Al-Nusra with this \"leak\" about a split, and said a break with Al-Qaeda was very unlikely. French expert on jihadism Romain Caillet agreed: \"The overwhelming majority of Al-Nusra members want to stay in al-Qaeda, particularly foreign fighters who represent at least one-third of the organisation\".[54]\n\nBut Abu Maria al-Qahtani, the commander of al-Nusra in Deir ez-Zor province, still strongly advocated a split with al-Qaeda.[56] Muhamed Nabih Osman, leading a charitable organisation for former Assad prisoners, said to website The Daily Beast on 4 May 2015: \"I think it will happen soon. You have to understand that al-Nusra consists of two very different parts and that one part, mostly local fighters, are not interested in global jihad\".[56]\n\nOn 7 May 2015, a Turkish official said that Turkey and Saudi Arabia were bolstering Ahrar al-Sham at Nusra's expense, hoping that al-Sham's rise puts pressure on Nusra to renounce its ties to al-Qaeda and open itself to outside help.[122]\n\nA \"well-connected Syrian Islamist\" cited in May 2015 by The Huffington Post said: \"There are now two main currents... the conservatives are keen on keeping ties to Al-Qaeda and the others are more inclined towards the new Syria-focused approach\". Another \"Islamist official from Damascus\" is cited: \"Nusra's disengagement from al Qaeda would be good for the revolution, but Jabhat al-Nusra will always be in dire need of al Qaeda's name to keep its foreign fighters away from IS. Most Jabhat foreign fighters will never accept to fight and die for what looks like an Islamic national project.\"[55]\n\nIn late July 2016, through various sources, the Middle East Eye claimed that an organizational split from al-Qaeda is \"imminent\", with the proposal reportedly been approved by AQ leaders and proposed a new name called \"Jabhat Fatah al-Sham\", or the \"Conquest of the Levant Front\". However, the sources claim that the move will not affect al-Nusra al-Qaeda ideology and its plan to commit attacks on the West.[123]\n\nExternal Support\n\nAt least one Arab government[192] has accused Qatar of helping al-Nusra.[193]According to the Al-Ahram Weekly, \"The Saudis and Qataris are to provide funding for 40 per cent of the [Army of Conquest] coalition's needs\".[194] JaN has been cited as an example of groups in the Syrian Civil War that Saudi Arabia has supported that are \"most in line with Wahhabi beliefs\".[2] The US Government has been sending weapons to rebels in Syria since at least late 2013,[195] and perhaps as early as 2012,[196]during the beginning phases of the conflict. These weapons have been reportedly falling into hands of extremists, such as al-Nusra and ISIL.[197][198][199]\n\nal-Nusra has also been materially supported by multiple foreign fighters. Most of these fighters are from Europe and the Middle East, as pipelines to Syria from those locations are better established and navigable.[200] However, as of November 2013, there were also 6 publicly disclosed cases of American citizens and permanent residents who joined or attempted to join al-Nusrah in 2013 alone.[201]\n\nThe Independent reported that Saudi Arabia and Turkey \"are focusing their backing for the Syrian rebels on the combined Jaish al-Fatah, or the Army of Conquest, a command structure for jihadist groups in Syria that includes Jabhat al-Nusra.\"[202]\n\nThe Pentagon confirmed in September 2015 that a small group of US-trained New Syrian Forces rebels gave six pickup trucks and a portion of their ammunition to al-Nusra Front in exchange for safe passage.[203]\n\nQatari Support\n\nThe Emir of Qatar publicly admitted, in an interview with Christiane Amanpour, that he doesn't always see eye to eye with American terrorist designations: \"I know that in America and some countries they look at some movements as terrorist movements. ... But there are differences. There are differences that some countries and some people that any group which comes from Islamic background are terrorists. And we don't accept that.\"[204] It has been suggested that one of the designated groups that the Emir spoke of in this interview at CNN was the Al-Nusra Front.[205] According to the Consortium Against Terror Finance (CATF), Qatar has been able to get away with funding Al Nusra, despite their terrorist designation, through Kidnapping for Ransom.[205] Al Nusra has, thus far, kidnapped a diverse group of people from nationalities that span the globe. They have been involved in kidnapping people from Turkey, Fiji, Lebanon, Syria, and Italy among others. In each occasion, Qatar engages in a substantial financial agreement with Al Nusra in exchange for hostages. CATF suggests that the U.S. turns a blind eye to Qatar's funding of Al Nusra because Al Nusra is one of the only groups that poses a plausible threat to both ISIS and Assad.[205] According to the Institute for the Study of War, the reason why Al Nusra is the only plausible threat is because of Qatar's funding: \"Jabhat al-Nusra has become the best-armed force among the opposition groups. It has been at the tip of the spear in operations in Eastern Syria, Aleppo, and Damascus. Its combat proficiency and relatively greater access to materiel and funding have led other opposition groups to tolerate its participation in military operations across the country.\"[206]\n\nQatar even managed the negotiations with al-Nusra Front that ultimately led to American writer Peter Theo Curtis's release. Suggesting how happy the country is with its relationship to Al Nusra, Qatari Intelligence Chief Ghanim Khalifa al-Kubaisi was said to have sent a contact a text with the words \"Done,\"— and a thumbs up emoticon — after Curtis's release was completed.[207]\n\nAccording to The Fiscal Times, Qatar has great influence over the group that goes beyond ransom payments. In many cases, Qatar acts as a political mediator between Al Nusra and other countries like Lebanon:[208] \"A prisoner swap between the Lebanese government and al-Qaeda's branch in Syria, Al-Nusra Front in early December showed how powerful the group has become on the ground. The deal released 16 Lebanese soldiers and police officers who were captured during a joint ISIS-al-Nusra operation along with 29 civilians, some of whom are known terrorists.\"[208] Indeed, Qatar's mediation between Al Nusra and Lebanon ultimately guaranteed al-Nusra freedom of movement inside what was once a safe haven in Lebanon's Hamid valley, bordering Syria, giving Al Nusra access to the Lebanese town of Arsal.[208]\n\nBut one Diplomat goes so far as to suggest that, beyond the scope of mediation and paying ransom, \"They [Qatar] are partly responsible for Jabhat al-Nusra having money and weapons and everything they need.\" The diplomat even goes on to say that while Qatar hasn't directly funded ISIS, it is responsible for the fact that ISIS gained Al Nusra weapons as members of Al Nusra are known to defect to ISIS.[209]\n\nQatar's support of Al Nusra has been highly criticized in both U.S. and U.K media. Indeed, Foreign Policy goes so far as to suggest that Qatar's support for Al Nusra is just one more example of its hand in further destabilizing the entire region.[207] As a result, Qatar had to suppress some of the more overt Al Nusra fund-raising efforts launched publicly by its citizens. It has been suggested that while Qatar supports Al Nusra, it does so in a way to try and not alienate its Western allies.[210] Fellow Gulf countries Saudi Arabia, the United Arab Emirates, and Bahrain have publicly rebuked Qatar for its support of political Islamists like Al Nusra across the Middle East.[207]\n\n https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Al-Nusra_Front#Split_with_ISIL_.282013.29\n\n", "meta": {"pile_set_name": "BookCorpus2"}}
{"text": "\n\n### Visits From Beyond\n\n### True Stories of After Death Encounters\n\n### C.A. Starfire\n\n**Second Smashwords Edition July 2012**\n\n© 2012 C.A. Starfire\n\nThis eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this eBook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.\n\nAll rights reserved. This book may not be reproduced in any form, in whole or in part, without written permission from the author.\n\nhttp://www.starfire-studio.com\n\n<https://www.facebook.com/StarfireStudio>\n\n<https://www.facebook.com/C.A.Starfire>\n\n**Dedication**\n\nThis book is dedicated to my wonderful husband Paul, who loves and supports me no matter what and does his best to keep the cats quiet and entertained while I work; to my wonderful friends and family; to the fabulous folks at Literature and Latte who developed Scrivener; to everyone who's blessed me with their help every step of the way; and to everyone who so generously shared their stories with me.\n\nI'm grateful to you all.\n\nC.A. Starfire\n\nJune 2012\n\n**Table of Contents**\n\nTitle Page\n\nCopyright\n\nDedication\n\nTable of Contents\n\nIntroduction\n\nChapter 1\n\nChapter 2: What are After Death Encounters?\n\nChapter 3: My First Encounter\n\nChapter 4: My Second Encounter\n\nChapter 5: Physical Encounters\n\nChapter 6: Visual Encounters\n\nChapter 7: Tactile Encounters\n\nChapter 8: Olfactory Encounters\n\nChapter 9: Auditory Encounters\n\nChapter 10: Protective Encounters\n\nChapter 11: Encounters with Strangers\n\nChapter 12: Farewells\n\nChapter 13: Dream Encounters\n\nChapter 14: Encounters with Those Thought to Be Alive\n\nChapter 15: Meaningful Symbols\n\nChapter 16: Electronic Encounters\n\nChapter 17: Other Encounters\n\nThank Yous\n\nAbout the Author\n\nBonus: Preview from Angelic Encounters: True Stories of Angelic Protection, Intervention, and Comfort\n\n**Introduction**\n\nI've been interested in the spiritual and metaphysical since before I knew those words. I had an out of body experience during a near drowning when I was three years old and had at least two more before I was five years old. Each time I found myself outside my body, I felt safe and completely surrounded in love and the light of the Divine.\n\nWhen I was eleven years old, my great-grandmother appeared to me in a dream. I found out late the next day that she'd died. I've had several other encounters since, so I'm undeniably biased.\n\nIn my teens I started working with energy and doing readings for my friends; now in my 50s I enjoy doing readings for others, healing and energy work, and astral exploration. I know that physical reality isn't all there is.\n\nA few months ago when I was doing astral work, I felt called to collect stories of after death encounters and angelic encounters. I promptly asked the people I'd done readings for, fans of my page, and everyone else from friends to acquaintances if they'd like to contribute their own accounts. I'm grateful for and feel blessed by the generosity of everyone who responded. Thank you all!\n\nFor privacy's sake contributors are identified by their initials, their first name and last initial, or just their first name. There were two cases where someone had the same initials as a previous submitter, so they chose another set.\n\nEach person has assured me that their encounter happened just as related to either themselves or a family member.\n\nBeing called to write this book has been another fascinating step down the path I've been on all my life. My mother was a career RN with an interest in helping those faced with death. By the time I was in my early 20s, we had an entire bookshelf devoted to the topic, including the works of Elisabeth Kübler-Ross. My mother and I both enjoyed reading about reincarnation, out of body experiences, and visits from the dead; while I preferred collections of stories, my mother was most partial to research studies.\n\nBesides the works of Elisabeth Kübler-Ross, I've enjoyed the books of Raymond Moody, MD, Robert A. Monroe, Kenneth Ring, Bernie Siegel, Brian Weiss, MD, and Ian Wilson. I've also enjoyed articles in Omega: Journal of Death and Dying and several articles from different hospice organizations.\n\nI've edited most of the stories that have been entrusted to me very minimally; one story isn't edited at all but has been treated as a historical document to be transcribed. I've standardized spelling and edited for clarity where needed, but I've purposefully done my best to keep each person's narrative voice intact rather than standardizing their grammar or changing their speech to \"proper English.\" Not all the submissions were from people who speak American English, so you'll see some phrasing that reflects that.\n\nI've always enjoyed hearing other people's experiences and found it very meaningful and joyful; I hope this book will bring the same joy to those who read it.\n\n**Chapter 1**\n\nEncounters with the dead are nothing new; accounts of deceased people or animals appearing to the living seem universal across cultures.\n\nA 1971 survey in Wales by Dr. W.D. Rees showed 50% of widowers and 46% of widows reporting they'd had waking experiences where they perceived their deceased spouse. A national survey in Iceland in 1988 by E. Haraldsson showed 31% of survey respondents had perceived the presence of a deceased person. Andrew Greeley reported in 1989 that 42% of Americans had felt at least once in their life that they were in touch with someone who had died.\n\nSeveral studies have indicated that those who report encounters with the dead seem more at peace with their loss and happier in general than those who don't have comparable experiences. No studies that I've found have showed any correlation between after death encounters and increased grief or mental disorders.\n\nWhile there's still some tendency to dismiss such experiences as \"grief hallucinations\" or wishful thinking, it's changing. I'm grateful that as the subject is studied, there's increasing awareness among the public and within the health care community that these encounters can't and shouldn't be dismissed; that rather than being a sign of psychological stress or an unbalanced mind, they often provide comfort and may relay needed information. It's also increasingly apparent that while they do happen to people who are grieving, they also happen to those who aren't grieving, including those who didn't know the deceased or who don't know their loved one is dead.\n\n**Chapter 2: What Are After Death Encounters?**\n\nAfter death encounters are, simply put, any sort of interaction or experience with a person or animal who's dead. After death encounters are extremely varied in their presentation and can happen during waking, dreaming, and twilight states.\n\nThey can be physical: these include experiences involving the senses of sight, touch, smell, and hearing; encountering a deceased person or animal who is apparently solid and alive; and experiences with electrical appliances or electronics.\n\nVisual encounters include experiences like seeing a chair rocking or door or window opening or closing by themselves and finding meaningful items moved around with no physical explanation.\n\nTactile encounters include things like as feeling a hug, a kiss, a pat on the back, a hand clasp, or the cold nose of a pet or the weight of its body against yours.\n\nOlfactory encounters are the perception of a familiar odor or fragrance associated with the deceased, such as aftershave, perfume, cigarette smoke, flowers, or food smells.\n\nAuditory encounters include things like hearing the audible voice of the deceased, the familiar creak of a rocking chair, the jingle of keys, the purr of a cat, or the click of a dog's nails on the floor.\n\nPhysical encounters can also include interacting with an apparently solid, physical, living being that one may or may not know is dead, as T.B. did.\n\nAfter death encounters can also be non-physical. These include sensing or feeling the presence of a deceased person or animal; perceiving the deceased's voice in one's mind, experiencing a meaningful synchronicity about a person or animal; dreaming of the deceased; someone near death talking with those who've already died or stating that they're present.\n\nOther encounters are protective interventions to help the living, like the stories from T. B., J.S., and L.T.\n\nSome encounters are clearly farewells, like L.R., E.B., and J.F.'s. Sometimes the encounters pass on information that hadn't been passed on in life, as in the story from C.L.\n\nMany encounters blur the lines or fit into more than one category; while most auditory encounters are only heard by one person, some are heard by others, such as D.S.'s electronic encounter. Some farewell encounters also protect or help the living or pass on helpful information to the survivor.\n\nWhile the majority of after death encounters are between those who have a strong bond of love, after death encounters where there's no bond with the deceased aren't uncommon. The latter seem most common among first responders and those who work with the seriously ill or dying. Stories like these include those from Mike O., Ed R., and Rita W.\n\nA majority of after death encounters are experienced by someone who knows they're encountering a person or animal who's dead; a few encounters are with those believed to be living at the time of the encounter. The stories from T.B., Mary M., A.J., Emi T., S.T., Jim T., Shelly, and S.A. are the latter type. There are also some encounters where the knowledge of the death is temporarily blocked; it seems perfectly reasonable to see someone or hear someone during the encounter, but afterwards the awareness of \"wait... X is dead!\" returns, as in Mary M.'s story from her great-grandfather and Shelly's visits from Belly.\n\n**Chapter 3: My First Encounter**\n\nWhen I was 11 years old, my great-grandmother, Gimma, lived in a small apartment (or possibly a convalescent hospital or retirement home) on Shattuck Avenue in downtown Berkeley.\n\nGimma had always been very independent. Her husband had died during the great flu epidemic in 1918, leaving her with four children aged five months to ten years. She'd raised them to be smart, independent, and happy, first on a farm in Nebraska, then in the boarding house she ran for UC Berkeley students in California.\n\nLater in life she farmed chickens and turkeys in Santa Rosa before she retired to Ashland, Oregon, where she ran another boarding house, this time at the Ray Minkler House. She later moved into a tiny dwelling just opposite Our Lady of the Mountain Catholic Church in Ashland, where she lived alone until she moved back to Berkeley.\n\nMy grandparents helped raise me, and until my mid teens I spent every weekend, holiday, and vacation at their home in Berkeley. While Gimma lived in Berkeley, I often went with my grandmother to visit her.\n\nOne night I dreamed I was at Gimma's apartment, but my grandmother wasn't there. Gimma was smiling and looked very happy and much younger than I'd seen her. She hugged me, kissed me, and told me she loved me. She told me it was time for her to go, then she held my face, looked into my eyes, and said, \"Don't you forget me!\" I promised her I'd never forget.\n\nWhen I woke up the dream was very clear and I wrote it in my dream diary.\n\nAfter I got home from school that afternoon, my mother told me Gimma had died during the previous night. I blurted out, \"But I just dreamed about her last night!\" and ran to get my diary to show my mother the dream from the previous night.\n\nI remember how disconcerting it was going to the visitation and funeral, because I'd seen her, and she'd looked so happy and well. I realized that body wasn't really her, and I've never forgotten her.\n\n**Chapter 4: My Second Encounter**\n\nWhen I was seven years old, a stray black cat adopted my family. My mother agreed to take her in, and I was given the opportunity to name her. I named her \"Lucy\" after Lucille Ball; the \"I Love Lucy\" show was my favorite television program.\n\nMy mother took Lucy to the vet for shots and spaying and was shocked when they called to explain that they couldn't spay Lucy; she was a 3-5 year old, already neutered male.\n\nMy mother told me many years later that she'd always loved the black cats \"Lucifer\" and \"the Witch of Endor\" in L. M. Montgomery's novel \"Magic for Marigold.\" When we found out Lucy was a male, she told me that Lucifer was the closest male name. I cheerfully accepted it and it was two or three years later when a schoolmate asked if it wasn't scary to have a black cat named after the devil. I became very indignant—Lucille Ball was NOT the devil! (My mother had left the Catholic Church long before I was born and although I went to church on Sundays with my grandparents, there had evidently been some rather large gaps in my religious education!)\n\nLucifer he was and Lucifer he stayed: a sweet, placid, loving cat who slept with me almost every night.\n\nIn 1984 I was 23 and Lucifer was about 20 years old. He'd gone blind several years earlier but got around the house just fine. He also enjoyed spending time outside on a lead. We'd learned the hard way that he'd wander off if he was loose, climbing over the six foot plank fences to go exploring. I'd had to go to all the neighbors asking them to check their back yard one day when he'd vanished. By the time I found him, he'd made it three houses away and was happily eating grass in their back garden.\n\nLucifer was still gentle and good-natured. He loved to sleep on my bed or my mother's bed, where he'd cuddle with and share baths with Regis, Rafi, and Cali, our other cats. He also loved to burrow under the covers and snuggle up to me or my mother.\n\nOne morning I woke up as it was getting light and could feel him under the covers, cuddled up against my legs and purring. I snuggled against him and went back to sleep.\n\nI woke up a couple of hours later for work, and my mother had left me a note asking me to wake her up as soon as I got up. I was surprised since she worked nights and slept during the day, but I went in and woke her before I got ready for work. She took my hand and pulled me to sit on the bed and told me that the night before, while she was reading in bed, Lucifer had a seizure. She bundled him into his carrier and drove straight to the emergency vet. The vet told her that there was no hope; Lucifer was already close to death and anything they could do would only prolong his suffering. My mother held him as he was euthanized, then brought his body home so we could bury him in the garden. She'd gotten home at about 3:30 a.m., several hours before I'd woken up to feel him purring and snuggling against me. I saw him out of the corner of my eye for several years.\n\n**Chapter 5: Physical Encounters**\n\nT.B. served as a Catholic priest for many years before leaving the church in protest of the child abuse cover ups. His encounter happened when he was a teenager. He notes that, although this happened over 60 years ago, the memory is still crystal clear.\n\nI was 16 and working a summer job several hours from home. I'd decided on the spur of the moment to drive home for the weekend to surprise my parents. I got a late start Friday night and decided to drive through the mountains closer to home instead of taking the main road that detoured further south to an easier pass. I could usually shave about 2 hours off my trip that way.\n\nI've never been able to remember the actual accident. I was driving and it was a warm, stormy summer night and I was driving pretty slowly because it was hard to see. I'd started through the pass at about 10:30 and driven for a while, when suddenly I was waking up in my car with a big dog right outside my broken side window whining and barking at me. I felt very dizzy and confused and kept closing my eyes. As I regained consciousness and became more oriented I heard a woman's voice calling my name. Looking out of the window, I saw I was about 75 feet down a steep ravine. The woman was standing up at the roadside waving down to me. When she saw me awake she told me I needed to get out of the car right away and come up. I felt very disoriented and cold and the dog kept whining and barking at me. He had a very deep bark that seemed to wake me up and warm me up, and he kept licking my face through the broken window.\n\nI couldn't get the car door open, so I crawled out through the broken window. It seemed to take me hours to get out of the ravine. The woman told me her name was Kathy and reminded me that our mothers knew each other. She talked to me continually, encouraging me the whole time. Sometimes the dog braced me to keep me from slipping backwards. I couldn't put any weight on my left leg, so I was half pulling myself up with my arms. Luckily I could see very well in the bright moonlight to find places to hold onto.\n\nKathy told me her dog's name was Ned and that he went everywhere with her. He stayed right with me as I climbed up and Kathy remained in my sight the entire time. She kept telling me that I was fine, that I was doing great, and I wasn't alone. Every time it seemed like I couldn't go on, she encouraged me, cajoled me, and even scolded me until I started up again. All the while Ned stayed with me, leaning against me to keep me steady and warm me up.\n\nI finally got to the top. Kathy was sitting at the edge of the road with her arms wrapped around her knees. She looked sad, but she smiled at me and said, \"I'm so sorry, Tom. But you're going to be fine, you know. You have so much more to do! And I'm right here with you, you're not alone.\" Ned settled between us, and Kathy put an arm around him and rubbed his ears. I could tell how much they loved each other.\n\nIt was cold, rainy, and pitch black on that road. My head and leg hurt like the dickens. But Ned was warm and he kept me warm leaning against me. I felt very sleepy and sick to my stomach, but Kathy kept talking and scolded me when I wanted to lie down and rest. She said I had to stay awake and upright so I could watch for cars. It seemed like an eternity before I heard a car, and then Ned ran right into the middle of the road. I was scared he'd be hit if the driver didn't see him, so I struggled halfway up on one foot and waved my jacket and arms. The car stopped, and a Mr. and Mrs. Johnson helped me into the car to take me to the hospital. I could finally give in and close my eyes, but I don't know if I slept or passed out.\n\nWhen we got to the hospital a nurse woke me. It wasn't until then that I realized Kathy and Ned weren't with us. The Johnsons insisted I'd been alone on the road, but I kept insisting Kathy and Ned were still there. I refused to let anyone work on me until they promised they'd send the sheriff out to get Kathy and Ned and make sure they were safe. I don't know if they gave me something or I passed out, but the next thing I knew I was waking up in a hospital bed with my leg in a cast. I had a compound fracture and a great big knot on the side of my head from the accident.\n\nMy parents were there when I woke up that morning. I told them about Kathy and Ned helping me and asked how they were. They didn't answer, but my father went out and came back in with the sheriff, who told me he needed to ask me about the accident before he could tell me anything.\n\nI told him I couldn't remember the actual accident, but Ned had woken me up barking and whining and licking my face until I stayed awake, and how Ned and Kathy had helped me get out of that ravine. I told him I'd almost given up many times and how Kathy'd kept encouraging me.\n\nThe sheriff asked me to describe Kathy. I described her the best I could, including her brown hair, curly dark brown hair, sweater, and slacks. I also mentioned the reddish brown collar Ned was wearing and described the bangle bracelets and the little gold cross Kathy had been wearing. The sheriff asked if I was sure of my description, and I said I'd been sitting with them for what seemed like hours and was very sure. I suddenly remembered what Kathy had said about our mothers knowing each other, and I told them about that. My mother turned very pale and said it sounded like Kathy Miller, a daughter of one of her casual friends from church, and she told the sheriff he really needed to make sure she was safe.\n\nThe sheriff looked very shaken then. He told us the Johnsons had brought me to the hospital about 5 a.m., then Mr. Johnson had led him to where they'd found me on the road. The sheriff found my car where I'd described it down in the ravine and told me it was a miracle I'd made it up that ravine with my leg so badly broken. He'd gotten down to the car and had trouble getting back up with two good legs and a rope! He also told me that he didn't know how long it would have been until I'd been found if I hadn't been able to get up. From my car he spotted another car further down. He said it looked from the damage to both cars that the other car had come around the sharp curve and hit my car, knocking both cars off the road and down the ravine. The other car had gone much further down the ravine; he'd had to go back to town to get more people and ropes to get down to it safely. The occupants had both died in the crash. They'd retrieved the bodies, and he had the driver's wallet so he could notify the family. Then he asked me if I'd minding looking at a photo from the driver's wallet.\n\nIt was Kathy, sitting in the sun with one arm around her knees and the other around Ned, just the way she'd sat by me on the road. She and Ned had been the occupants of the other car and hadn't gotten out alive.\n\nI realized a little later that neither of them had been wet in the storm. I'd been soaking, but Ned had been warm and dry to the touch. I'd never touched Kathy, but she'd looked dry. I remember how I'd had no trouble seeing her or Ned and could see fine to get out of the ravine. I'd thought the moon was out, but it hadn't been; it had been pouring rain all night and black as pitch.\n\nI hadn't really known Kathy well before the accident, although my mother said we'd met several times. Kathy was about 10 years older than I was, and at my age that made a big difference. My mother and Kathy's had known each other all their lives, although they weren't close. After the accident they got much closer and our families often spent holidays together. Her mother became my Aunt Mary, with ties of love rather than blood.\n\nIt wasn't until many years later that my mother told me she'd gone to see Aunt Mary the day after the accident and told her Kathy had helped me. Long before that Aunt Mary had given me a framed copy of the photo of Kathy and Ned that I'd seen in Kathy's wallet. I still have it and treasure it, and I thank God, Kathy, and Ned every day for my life.\n\nT.B., New York\nWhile I've edited the other stories for grammar and clarity, Mary M. shared this with me with the condition that it be treated as a historical document and transcribed exactly as her great-grandfather wrote it down in 1965. I've honored that request so that I could share this story with you.\n\nMary M. writes, \"This didn't happen to me but to my great-grandfather when he was a boy. He wrote it down for my late mother in the 1960s. My mother told me many times he believed it all his life and if you suggested he was feverish at the time he'd just smile a patient smile and shake his head. I'm sending it to you in his own words, just as he wrote it down on January 7, 1965.\"\n\n\"When I was a boy we lived in a log cabin father had built. I was one of 8 children. Ned was 20 and was away working for the railroad, Edie was 17 and helped Mother with the house and children, I was almost 16, Jack was 11, Mary was 8, Katie was 6, Tom was 4, and Maggie was 2.\n\nThere wasn't what you could call a town yet but we had a good doctor in the township. That winter a terrible flu was going around and quite a few people had died. We'd been hit hard, but most of us were better or getting there. But Katie died during that Sunday night and father was very ill and not breathing right, so mother asked me if I'd mind going for the doctor just before dawn Monday.\n\nThere was a snow storm and it was several miles to the doctor's house. I must not have been as well as I'd thought, because I got lost in the woods trying to take a shortcut and was getting confused and sleepy from the cold. I stumbled several times but got up, and then finally I just sat there in the snow. I suddenly heard \"Billeeeeee!!! BILLEEE!!!\" and saw a light, and Father and Katie were standing a ways away. Katie was jumping up and down and calling me and Father was gesturing while he held up a lantern. I was so glad to see them that I was able to get up again and I stumbled over to them. Father was holding Katie's hand and holding up the lamp, but he let go and put an arm around me and Katie took my other hand. They walked me all the way to the doctor's house. I felt weak and dizzy and had trouble knocking, and finally Father stepped up to the door and banged on it for me, then squeezed my shoulder. I looked up at him and he smiled at me, and I saw Katie just behind him, smiling too. The doctor's wife opened the door and ushered me right in. She sat me down by the fire and in a minute I realized Father and Katie hadn't come in. And then I remembered that Katie had died during the night and Father was so sick mother had sent me for the doctor, and on that long cold walk Father and Katie weren't wearing coats!\n\nThe doctor's wife gave me a hot drink to take with us and the doctor drove us both to the farm. Edie and Jack came out to meet us. Jack took the doctor's horse into the barn. Edie ushered us in and took the doctor's coat and told us Father had died while I was gone.\n\nTo this day I still remember Katie jumping up and down and calling me and Father's lamp lighting the way through the woods to the road and all the way to the doctor's doorway. I remember his arm around me helping me walk and Katie's hand in mind. I remember watching his big hand banging on that thick wooden door and the feel of his hand on my shoulder, squeezing like he did when he was proud of me and didn't know how to say it. It was as real as the pen I'm using to write this.\n\nI believe I was close to death from freezing and that it wasn't my time, and that's why Father and Katie came to help me.\n\nMary M., Montana\n\n**Chapter 6: Visual Encounters**\n\nM.O. is a retired firefighter. He writes:\n\nThis happened many years ago. My crew and I had responded to a fire late at night. It was an older wooden farmhouse. The family had gotten safely out, but they had an old dog they couldn't find, and they were afraid she'd been trapped inside. The parents and children were clustered by their garage and clearly in shock as we worked on the house, while an older woman dressed in a plain blue dress was on the other side of the front garden. She was crouched down with another dog who she was hugging and petting as it wagged its tail so hard that its whole hind end wagged while it tried to lick her.\n\nWhen the fire was controlled enough that we could check the house, we found their older dog had succumbed to smoke inhalation and was dead. I carried her body outside for the family and looked around for the other woman but couldn't find her. I became concerned that she'd entered the home, which was unsafe. I asked the father where she was, but he told me the family was all accounted for. When I described the woman I'd seen, the gentleman became very upset. He called his wife over and asked me to repeat what I'd told him. She turned pale and said I'd described her grandmother, who'd died the previous month. She'd lived with them for the past few years and the old dog had been hers. The woman had been able to take her purse as they exited the house, and showed me a picture of her grandmother with her dog and her grandchildren, taken several years earlier. It looked very much like the woman and dog I'd seen.\n\nThe woman I saw looked completely real to me and so did the dog, but on reflection I realized that while everyone else was watching the house, the two of them were focused only on each other.\n\nM.O, Washington\n\nJan S. is retired. She writes:\n\nI was very close to my only living great-grandmother when I was a little girl and lived with her most of the time. I was also named for her. She taught me to cook, to make cookies, cakes, and pies, to can, to garden, to gather eggs, and to milk her goats. She lived outside town where she had half a dozen chickens, two goats, and an enormous garden.\n\nMy mother went back to work when I was a very little girl and my father worked as well. They both worked very long hours and neither set of my grandparents were near, so Gran took care of me. I lived with her except during my parents' vacations. Gran and I often prepared dinner together for all of us, and my mother would stop by to pick up some on her way home from work, which could be any time from 5 pm until 9 pm.\n\nI didn't really like my parents' vacations; I missed Gran, the goats, the chickens, and my room. I missed the country sounds.\n\nIt was during my parents' vacation when I was 16 that I woke up in my room at their house one night and Gran was there sitting on the bed and smiling at me. She didn't say anything, just sat on the bed nodding and smiling, and I felt how much she loved me. I went back to sleep feeling safe and cherished and loved.\n\nThe next day after school, I went over to visit and help her make dinner, but she didn't answer when I called out to her. I looked around and I found her in her bed. Her eyes were closed as if she was asleep, but she was cold and stiff, and I knew she was dead. I called the operator and she sent a doctor over. I called my mother and was calm until she got there, then started crying. We hugged harder than I think I'd ever hugged her before, and we cried together a long time. When we'd both calmed down, I asked her if Gran had looked okay when she'd been over the night before, and she told me Gran hadn't come over.\n\nBut I know Gran did, so she could say goodbye to me and let me know she was fine.\n\nTwo days later I felt her again. I was cleaning the house and packing up Gran's clothes. I'd given the chickens and goats to the neighbors, who I knew would take good care of them. I didn't know what was going to happen with the house because we didn't have Gran's will and couldn't find it. Suddenly I felt Gran directly behind me, but didn't see her when I turned around. Instead I saw her Bible on the table right where I was facing after turning. I picked up it and looked through it, and there was her will. She'd left me everything, and requested my parents keep the house and contents safe for me until I was an adult. We packed up the things and rented out the house for 5 years.\n\nAt last I was 21 and could move back home. I unpacked everything into the right places, and that night was the last time I felt Gran. I woke up again in the middle of the night and she was sitting in her chair, which I'd put in the corner of my room. She was nodding and smiling, just like the last time I'd seen her, and I knew she was happy that I was back in the house where I belonged. I've lived in the same house all my life, got married in the parlor, raised my children, and I'll stay here until I die. I know Gran watches over me and when it's my time to go I'm sure she'll be there nodding and smiling.\n\nJan S.\n\nMarilyn S. is 81. She and her husband raised four sons who are all happily married with children of her own. Her husband, Roger, died of cancer 6 years ago. She writes:\n\nRoger was my best friend. We grew up on the same street, went to the same schools, and fell in love in High School. He proposed on my 18th birthday and we were married the following June.\n\nEight years ago Roger starting having terrible pains in his stomach. He'd always been healthy and put off going to the doctor for some time. When he finally did go, he was diagnosed with end-stage cancer. He still chose to go through both chemotherapy and radiation, and he suffered terribly. He lost his hair, his skin turned yellow, and he lost so much weight he was skin and bones. He finally said enough was enough, stopped all cancer treatments, and went into hospice.\n\nRoger had been on high doses of morphine for pain, and it made him sleep most of the time. On the Tuesday he died, he woke up and sounded almost like his old self for several hours. He said he knew it would be soon, and we held hands while I sang to him. Towards evening he suddenly smiled at me and told me his mother liked my singing almost as much as he did, then added, \"Don't you, Momma?\"\n\nRoger fell into a deep sleep not long after that, and died just before midnight.\n\nI'd loved that man my whole life, and was both devastated that our life together was over and glad that he wasn't hurting. I didn't expect to sleep, but after his body had been picked up and the hospice workers left, I got very sleepy and went to bed.\n\nI slept until just before dawn and woke up with a start. Roger was standing next to the bed smiling at me, but he looked like he'd looked when we were young, strong, and healthy. He didn't say a word, just smiled at me for several minutes, and I felt a sense of peace and love, then he faded away. I was wide awake and sitting up in bed when he faded away, and I know it wasn't a dream. It was Roger showing me he was well and healthy again.\n\nMarilyn S., New York\n\n**Chapter 7: Tactile Encounters**\n\nA.T. is a nurse. She writes:\n\nI went into nursing because of my aunt who died when I was 10 years old. Auntie was going to nursing school and planned to become a nurse. She was only ten years older than me and lived with us. She was always there when I got home from school, and when my parents were at work she took care of me. She helped me with my homework before we started preparing dinner, and after my parents got home we all ate together.\n\nAuntie and I shared a room. Every night she'd tuck me in and kiss my forehead, and then she'd check my covers again when she came to bed. I loved her, looked up to her, and wanted to be just like her when I grew up.\n\nOne day she didn't feel very well, a few days later she was taken to hospital, and a few days after that she died.\n\nThe night after her funeral I was crying in bed when I felt my covers tucked around me and a gentle warm kiss on my forehead, but no one was there. I called for my mom and she hugged me and told me my aunt had visited me to say goodbye.\n\nA.T.\n\nWilliam S writes that he's 85, terminally ill with cancer, and has never shared this story with anyone since his mother died when he was 14 years old.\n\nMy mother was the youngest of nine kids, and I was the youngest of four by many years. My brothers were 18, 16, and 13 years older than me. My maternal grandmother was over 80 by the time I was born. She'd been widowed for many years and had sold most of the farm to my Uncle James. She kept her old house and had a big garden, and as a small boy I spent every summer there. We were very close.\n\nOne night when I was, I guess, seven or eight years old, I woke up to Gram calling my name. She was sitting on my bed. The room was surprisingly bright and she was smiling at me. I wanted to hug her but couldn't move.\n\nShe told me she had come to see me because she'd promised I could stay the summer with her again and she had to break that promise. She told me she loved me, held out her arms, and suddenly I was in her lap and hugging her as hard I could. I wanted to be sad, but she looked so happy that I started laughing with her as she hugged me.\n\nThen she looked past me and told me I needed to go back to bed. She was laughing, smiling, and crying all at once and said \"I'm coming, Eddie!\" as she helped me off her lap. She kissed my cheek and whispered she'd always be watching over me. I turned around to get in bed and there was someone there! Then I realized it was me and suddenly I was back in the bed without ever moving, the room was pitch black instead of bright, and I started crying and calling for Gram to come back.\n\nWell, Mother came in and told me it was just a dream. But then the next morning at breakfast she said Gram had died and must have come to tell me goodbye. She said I shouldn't tell anyone I'd seen her after she'd died, that it was something private and special for Gram and me. She also told me then that she believed me about the night before; her father's name had been Edward but Gram had always called him Eddie.\n\nMy brother Mike mentioned years later that Gram had died in the middle of the night when I was young. He said for some reason Mom had called Uncle James to check on her. He'd gone next door and found she'd died in bed. I don't think Mom ever told him my part of it.\n\nI went to stay with Uncle James the next summer, but it wasn't the same without Gram there, and I wasn't happy. After that I stayed home summers.\n\nI've never forgotten Gram's coming to say goodbye to me. When Mother was dying when I was 14 and told me she was scared, I told her again about Gram. Mother seemed much calmer after that. I spent a lot of time with her, and she said I was her favorite nurse. Just before she died she smiled and said \"Mother!\", and then she was gone.\n\nI've got cancer now and the doctors all seem mystified that I'm not willing to fight harder, which to them seems to mean having more chemo and feeling sick as a dog instead of putting my affairs in order. But I know Mother and Gram will be there for me, and I'm looking forward to seeing them again.\n\nWilliam S.\n\nKelly M. is a stay at home mother of two young children living and one who died at the age of three. She writes:\n\nMy daughter Katie was born with birth defects that the doctors told us made it unlikely she'd live more than a few months. She surprised us all by living three years and eight days. Although she was unable to speak and had learned only limited sign language, until her last few weeks, she was alert and almost always happy. She loved music, and we had several music boxes she loved to open and close. Her favorite one had a fairytale castle in it and played \"Que Sera Sera.\" She loved that music box, and so long as she was able she played it every day. She'd pat it to ask to have it wound up when it ran down.\n\nWe knew her death was coming and had excellent hospice care. Thanks be to God we were able to keep her at home where she could be with her father and me, her baby sister Emily, and her cat and dog. We'd put our king-sized mattress on the floor of the living room and kept her with us, so she always had me or her father near.\n\nThe last few weeks she sometimes smiled at things we couldn't see, and signed \"hello\" and \"goodbye\" when no one was there. When I asked her who she was waving to, she signed very insistently \"my friend!\" My husband and I decided whether or not we could see that friend or believed in that friend, if that friend of Katie's was making her happy, they were welcome in our home.\n\nShe started sleeping more about 2 weeks before she died, then one day she woke up and was very alert. She was excited about \"my friend\" and all day long she signed \"I love you\" over and over to her father, her sister, the cat, the dog, and me, as well as to her friend. In the late afternoon she fell back into a deep sleep, and a few hours later she died in my arms.\n\nThe day of the funeral I broke down crying just before it was time to leave, and suddenly Katie's castle music box began to play \"Que Sera Sera,\" and I felt a gentle \"pat-pat-pat\" on my hand. I know it was Katie.\n\nKelly M.\n\nJessie N. is a retired accountant, an artist, and loves to travel. She writes:\n\nMy mother was the youngest of a large family. Her mother died just after her birth, and Mother's oldest sister Nell was the only mother she knew. Nell was almost 20 when Mother was born and lived until mother was 64. I grew up knowing \"Auntie Nell\" almost as well as I knew Mother.\n\nMother developed Alzheimer's disease in her late 60s and it progressed much faster than the doctors expected. My siblings and I had to make the decision to place her in a care home for Alzheimer patients when it became clearly dangerous for her to be without around the clock care.\n\nTowards the end of Mother's life, she'd often call out \"Nellie! Nellie!\" in a frightened voice and plead to be taken home. She didn't know any of us anymore, and my siblings and I learned to not remind her she was our mother, because when we did she'd get more frightened and call for help.\n\nThe last time I saw Mother alive I was singing one of the songs Auntie Nell had sung to me when I was small. Mother said \"Nellie!\" but this time she sounded happy instead of distressed. I was holding her hand while I sang, and I noticed her other hand wasn't laying flat on the bed, but instead looked as though it was also being held. Mother smiled at me and then smiled towards her other side, and it felt like Auntie Nell was there, I just couldn't see her.\n\nI sang to Mother until she fell asleep, and after I kissed her, I felt something cool brush my cheek just like Auntie Nell had done when I was small; she always had cold hands.\n\nI'd arrived home and had just started to make dinner when the nurse called to tell me Mother had died. I went back directly, and she still had the smile on her face and her right hand was still curved as if she'd been holding hands with someone.\n\nI know in my heart that Auntie Nell was with Mother when she died.\n\nJessie N., USA\n\n**Chapter 8: Olfactory Encounters**\n\nL.T. collects vintage children's books and works as an aide. She writes:\n\nMy granddad always used Old Spice aftershave, never anything else.\n\nHe died when I was 23 and my grandmother lived many more years. She was busy, active, and happy until she had a stroke at the age of 72.\n\nI went to the hospital to see her as soon as I got word. My grandmother was unable to speak, sit up, feed herself, or do anything unassisted, but she was awake and alert and recognized me. I sat with her and could tell she was frustrated with her body's failure to do what she wanted it to do. I held her hand and talked to her. After I'd been there about an hour her eyes opened wider and she looked past me, trying to speak. I smelled Old Spice and turned around to see who was there, but no one else was in the room.\n\nI asked her if she smelled it and she squeezed my hand just a little, more than she'd been able to do earlier. I asked her if it was Granddad, and then her hand went limp and alarms went off.\n\nGrandmother was declared dead a short while later. I'm certain Granddad came to get her.\n\nL.T.\n\nE.M is a retired elementary school teacher. She writes:\n\nI'm the only child of parents who married late in life. They retired and moved out of the country when I was grown. When my father had a fatal heart attack in early 1983, my mother assured me she was fine. She told me I was welcome to come up to visit, but reminded me that Dad hadn't wanted a funeral, so his body was being cremated and his ashes scattered. She knew she knew it was almost the end of the school year and felt I should wait to visit when school was over for the summer so I wouldn't disrupt my young students unnecessarily.\n\nI reluctantly agreed, but I phoned her every evening until she told me I was \"hovering\" and reiterated that she was perfectly fine.\n\nFive weeks later I arrived for the promised visit, and my mother really was perfectly fine. I'd been worried despite her assurances, but she was as busy as ever with her volunteering and social life and her laugh was as deep and boisterous as ever. While there was an obvious gap where my dad should have been and she admitted she missed him terribly, she really was quite well. We had a lovely day together.\n\nThat evening we were sitting in the lounge when I smelled roses. I looked around but there were none to be seen, and I finally asked my mother if she smelled them.\n\nShe smiled and nodded. \"It's your father. He stops by every night to check on me and let me know he's fine.\"\n\nI looked at my mother in shock and she started laughing. \"I haven't gone whackadoodledoo, dear. John gave me roses on our first date and gave me roses every week of our life together, always the best ones that smelled wonderful. I've not brought a single rose into the house since he died, but every evening the lounge is filled with the smell of roses. I know it's your father, checking on me and reminding me he loves me.\"\n\nWe never really talked about it again, but I did smell roses every night in the lounge whenever I visited.\n\nWhen I got the call 13 years later that Mother had collapsed at church and died at the hospital, I flew up to take care of everything.\n\nI was there two weeks taking care of what I could and hiring people to take care of what I couldn't, and I didn't smell roses a single time. I admit I started to wonder if my mother had been playing a trick on me. However when I got home and opened my front door, I smelled roses—and I smelled Mother's perfume, too, and knew they were together and watching over me.\n\nE.M.\n\n**Chapter 9: Auditory Encounters**\n\nJim T. writes:\n\nI was 19 and my big brother was 22 when we were serving in Vietnam. We were stationed in the same area but were in different units.\n\nOne day I heard him right behind me yelling \"GET DOWN!\" and I dropped like a rock. That saved my life, although I was still injured; there was a sniper attack just after I dropped and three others in my unit were killed.\n\nI was pretty busted up and had a lot of surgery. I don't remember how long I was out of it. When I finally woke up and knew where I was, I asked for my brother and found out that he'd been killed by sniper fire about two hours before I was shot.\n\nAll my life he'd watched out for me, and I know Dad had told him to make sure I was okay while we served. I guess he took that just as seriously after he died as he'd taken it while he was alive.\n\nJim T., USA\n\nScott M. works in the Critical Care field. He writes:\n\nMy father and I were very close; he was my best friend and role model and was thrilled when I went into medical school to follow in his footsteps.\n\nWhen I was 24 I changed my mind and decided to go into nursing instead. Dad got very upset and we had the first fight I ever remember us having.\n\nThree days later he was crossing the street to his car after work when he was hit by a car and killed. My mother refused to have an open casket because of the head wounds he'd sustained, so I never saw his body again.\n\nAfter the funeral service I'd walked back to my car and sat in it in tears. I couldn't believe he was gone and I couldn't stop crying. Suddenly I felt warm, like I was being hugged with love instead of arms, and I heard my father's voice as clear as a bell say, \"I love you Scotty, and I'm proud of you. Never doubt that!\"\n\nScott M., USA\n\n**Chapter 10: Protective Encounters**\n\nA.W. wrote:\n\nOne night when I was 17, my dog Max woke me up. He was whining and barking right in my face. I felt sleepy and groggy, and all I wanted was to go back to sleep. Max kept whining, barking, and licking my face and suddenly I smelled smoke. I switched on the light and my wall heater was smoking. I yelled for my mom and brother to wake up and put my clothes on over my pajamas. I felt the doorknob and it wasn't warm so I went into the hall. The air was better there and my mom was coming out of her room with our other dog, Edison, and my brother had our cat, Pushkin.\n\nMom grabbed the phone from the living room as we went out the front door and she called the fire department while my brother turned off the electricity at the box.\n\nThen I noticed Max wasn't out with us and said I had to go get him. My mom grabbed my arm, sort of shook me, and told me to wake up. I told her I was awake, and then I remembered Max had died the week before. Except he'd just woken me up, and I saw him go out through the bedroom door ahead of me.\n\nA funny thing was I got Max when I was about 5 years old, and he'd died of old age. When I thought about it, when he was licking my face, his muzzle was solid black, not gray like it had been for a few years.\n\nA.W.\n\nMary E writes:\n\nThis has always been one of my favorite stories and my Nan swears it's absolutely true.\n\nIn 1940 my Nan lived in London in a small flat with her mother and her two year old brother Paul.\n\nNan's father was an officer who was out of town often and lived on base. His best friend all his life had a heart condition and couldn't serve, so he became a driver for officers, including Nan's father.\n\nIt was just getting light the morning Nan's mother woke her and told her they were evacuating and to dress herself and Paul and pack their things as quickly as she could. Nan did as she was told and then took Paul and their valise into the main room. Her father was there leaning against the door. She called out to him and ran over to hug him, but he held up a hand to stop her, and she saw he had blood on his face and hands as though he was hurt. He held one arm against his middle but he held out his other hand to her. She took it, and he pulled her close enough to kiss her cheek and then kissed Paul's cheek. She said his hand and lips were cold as ice.\n\nShe said her mother turned very pale then and finished packing very quickly. Her father just watched her mother and seemed very sad. They never said a word to each other.\n\nIt only took a minute or two more before her mother closed the big valise. They all went down the stairs, her father last.\n\nThere was a car in front, and the driver was Jim, her father's best friend. He also looked very pale. Nan's father kissed her and Paul again before they got in the car, then kissed her mother, who ignored him. Nan thought her mother was angry about being evacuated and that's why she didn't speak or kiss him back.\n\nNan saw her mother had tears running down her face as Jim drove them away. Nan looked back and saw her father standing in the road at attention and she said it looked like there was a big piece missing from his side that he'd been hiding. She saw Jim watching him in the mirror and return the salute, and then they turned a corner. Paul was fast asleep again and soon Nan fell asleep as well. She woke when they were slowing down.\n\nNan, her mother, and Paul stayed with her mother's family and Jim drove back to town. A few days later Nan's mother told her that her father had been killed during a bombing.\n\nAfter the war Nan's mother and Jim married. He was a wonderful father and always treated her and Paul like they were his own flesh and blood.\n\nIt wasn't until her mother was dying many years later that she asked Nan if she'd remembered the night they'd evacuated. Nan told her what she remembered and her mother cried and told her more, because she and Jim had talked about it many times. Jim had been woken up by her father's voice but didn't see anyone. Her father had begged Jim to help him one last time and go evacuate Nan's family right away. Jim couldn't convince himself it was a dream, so he went.\n\nWhen he got to the building, Jim saw Nan's father standing at attention in front, terribly injured. Nan's father asked Jim to take care of Nan, Paul, and their mother for him, and Jim gave his word. Nan's father said he'd go get them and faded away. In just a few minutes Nan, Paul, and their mother came down the steps alone and got into the car, then in the mirror Jim had seen her father salute them as he started the car.\n\nNan's mother had woken to her husband's voice as clear as anything, telling her she needed to pack quickly and evacuate because there was a car waiting. She looked out and saw Paul with the car, and she knew then something was very wrong. When she saw Nan call out to her father and hold hands with nothing, she knew her husband must be dead. She never saw her husband, even though Jim and Nan did, she only heard his voice the one time.\n\nThree nights later the building their flat was in was destroyed in the bombing.\n\nNan had never had any idea that her father was already dead that night. She knew he'd been injured and was cold, but he'd felt as solid as Paul did. She went to Jim to ask about it, thinking her mother might be confused, but he told her the same thing. When he described her father's injuries, they were the same ones she'd seen.\n\nMary E.\n\nL.T. is a counselor who works with at risk youth. Her encounter was protective as well as auditory. She writes:\n\nMy father died when I was young, and my mother raised me on her own. We were very close and she was my best friend. Mom was an elementary school teacher who loved reading, her garden, animals, and her friends and family, and she was loved by everyone she knew.\n\nThe minute I realized I might be pregnant, I called to tell her before running out to get a test kit. When it was positive I called her immediately after I called my husband. She was as delighted as we were, and couldn't wait to be a grandmother.\n\nSix months later my mother died unexpectedly. I found out later the autopsy showed that she'd had several silent heart attacks. I was devastated, but did my best to focus on the baby.\n\nOur daughter was perfect and beautiful, and we named her for my mother.\n\nA week after her birth, when I was still recovering, I woke up to my mother telling me very urgently, \"Lisa! Jenny needs you!\" As I woke up more, I realized it must have been a dream and went back to sleep, only to be woken again in that voice all children know and can't help obeying, \"LISA MARGARET! GO CHECK ON JENNY THIS INSTANT!\"\n\nI was on my feet and across the room to the crib before I was completely awake. I found Jenny gasping, and her color was wrong. I screamed for my husband, grabbed Jenny, and ran out the front door in my nightgown without ever thinking of shoes or slippers.\n\nWe lived directly across from the driveway only ambulances used at the local hospital. I ran up it with Jenny, screaming for help. And bless them, they let me right in, despite the sign that said \"Ambulance Entrance Only.\" One nurse took Jenny while another hugged me and urged me to breathe. I remember how kind she was and how terrified I was. I was shaking and couldn't stop crying.\n\nMy husband arrived just a minute behind me, dressed and carrying clothes and shoes for me. He was able to answer all their questions for the paperwork until the nurse asked what made me check on Jenny.\n\nI told her, \"My mother woke me up telling me Jenny needed me. I fell back asleep and she woke me up again, telling me to check on her right away.\" I repeated what she'd said with her intonation. \"By the time I was on my feet, I still wasn't awake, but as soon as I saw Jenny I picked her up and ran over here.\" The nurse asked, \"What did your mother do?\" and I repeated she'd woken me up. The nurse started to say something about my mother could have done more when David turned to the nurse and said, \"You don't understand; Lisa's mother died three months ago.\"\n\nJenny recovered completely and is a healthy and happy highschooler now. She attends the same school where my mother taught. Thanks, Mom! I love you!\n\nL.T., California\n\nElizabeth E. writes:\n\nWhen I was a young girl, my family lived outside town on a small home farm. I was home alone one Sunday. I'd been sick and was still weak, so I stayed home while my family went to church.\n\nI was reading in the parlor when I heard one of the dogs bark his \"stranger!\" bark. I looked out and there was a man I didn't know coming up the walk. I suddenly heard my Grandmother's voice very loudly and clearly. She told me to lock the doors as fast as I could, shut the windows, and hide in the cellar, and I did so. I ran down the cellar steps and hid behind the furnace. I could hear him rattling the doors and windows and using foul language. He finally left and I was still hiding when my family got home.\n\nI told them what happened and about hearing Grandmother's voice, and my mother reminded me Grandmother was dead. I told her I knew that, but she sounded alive and like she expected to be obeyed!\n\nThey didn't say anything more about it. Mother put me to bed and gave me bread and milk, then she sat with me until I went to sleep. When I still wasn't well the next Sunday, my oldest brother stayed home with me.\n\nMother didn't tell me the next part of the story until many years later. The next day they'd heard that a strange man had broken into another house up the road and attacked a girl who was home alone. She was several years older than me and had been able to escape outside, then she'd ran all the way to town. My parents thought he'd come to our house next and that he would've hurt me if he'd gotten in the house.\n\nI'm glad Grandmother told me what to do and kept me safe.\n\nElizabeth E.\n\n**Chapter 11: Encounters with Strangers**\n\nEd R. is an EMT. He writes:\n\nTwo times I've seen the dead as though they were still alive, both during work. The first time it happened, I swear I almost drove right off the side of the road. We'd been called out for a car crash, and it was a bad one. A teenage girl had driven off a sharp curve and died at the scene. It was terrible, with injuries that were incompatible with life. She was so young, younger than my youngest sister.\n\nAs we drove away from the scene with her remains, I thought I saw someone behind me reflected in the windshield. I let out a yell and almost went off the road, and my partner grabbed the wheel. Between the two of us we got the ambulance pulled over safely to the side of the road. My partner gave me a look, and I told her I'd seen a young girl's face and it looked like the dead girl. I remember how it felt like all my hair was standing on end.\n\nMy partner's response left me with my mouth hanging open because she was matter of fact about it. She turned around and said to the back of the ambulance, \"You're okay, but you died in that crash. It's okay to go on to what's next now; you don't need to stay with your body anymore.\" She said a short prayer and the hair on the back of my neck settled down.\n\nMy partner told me the same thing had happened to her a few times and that as far as she knew it was just a soul being confused because they'd died so suddenly. When it happened she told them out loud that they'd died and said a brief prayer for the one who'd died and their family.\n\nShe said she only got spooked once. She went to get in her own car at the end of a shift, and when she looked in the rear view mirror she saw the little girl who'd died earlier climb in the seat through the closed back door. The little girl was just watching her. My partner said she'd turned around to look directly in the back seat and didn't see the girl, but she tried to look where she'd seen her in the mirror. She told the little girl very gently that she was okay, but she'd died and it was time to look for a bright light to guide her home. Then she'd said a prayer and felt a sense of peace and gratitude.\n\nThe second time I saw the dead was after another crash. A car had crashed, trapping the driver and a large dog in the car. It took some time to get into the car, and I noticed a big dog waiting several feet away, whining and watching. When the firefighters got the door opened and were able to get the driver out, they discovered the young man had been impaled and was dead, while the dog had terrible head injuries and was dying.\n\nThe other dog whined again, then I heard a shrill whistle from the woods off the road. I looked OVER and saw the watching dog's ears perk up. He went running over to a young man who looked just like the one who was dead right in front of me, and they faded away.\n\nEd R.\n\nKathy G.'s mother met a young boy at the hospital who needed help. Kathy writes:\n\nMy late mother was a nurse. She told me this story and always maintained it happened exactly this way.\n\nShe'd arrived at the hospital about 30 minutes early for her shift. She worked nights, so it was a little before 10:30 pm. There was a bench outside the emergency room and a boy about 9 or 10 years old was sitting on it, swinging his legs. My mother was concerned that he was out alone so late and sat down with him, asking him his name and why he was alone.\n\nHe told her his name was Tom Johnson (I've changed his name for his family's privacy) and that his mother was inside and was crying. He said he felt bad that she was so sad. Mama asked him if his mother was hurt and he told her no, someone else got hurt. Mama took his hand and led him inside, reassuring him quietly that it was okay. He tugged her towards the bereavement room and the name on the chart matched, so she dropped his hand to knock, but the door wasn't latched properly and opened just a little. Tom slipped inside and the door closed again.\n\nMama went to sign in and at shift change a few minutes later she mentioned that Tom Johnson had been alone outside when she'd arrived for work, so she'd let him in with his mother. The room went completely silent and everyone stared at her, then one doctor ran for the door. The other staff members told her Tom Johnson had been hit by a car and had died at the hospital just after 10 pm; his mother was in the bereavement room alone.\n\nThe doctor who had run out came back in a few minutes later and was as white as a ghost. He'd gone to check on Mrs. Johnson, and she'd told him that about a half hour earlier she'd had the funniest feeling that Tom had suddenly been right there with her. She felt like he'd promised her that he was okay and that he was sorry he'd made her so sad, and it felt like he'd hugged her.\n\nLater Mama asked the doctor and nurses who'd worked on Tom what he'd looked like and what he'd been wearing, and it was exactly like the boy she'd seen, except her Tom was clean and unhurt.\n\nKathy G., California\n\n**Chapter 12: Farewells**\n\nJ.R. is a retired schoolteacher. She has four children, seven grandchildren, and three great-grandchildren, with at least one John in ever generation as well as a granddaughter Jacqueline and great-granddaughter Jackie. She writes:\n\nMy parents met when my mother was only 15. My father John was 22 and had been hired as an assistant at Grandfather's store. He had a deformity of his right arm, but Grandfather said he managed to work twice as hard as any other assistant. Grandfather quickly promoted him.\n\nMother and Father met when he was invited over for supper, and it was love at first sight. When Grandfather had a heart attack two years later, Father did such a fine job running the store that he was made a partner.\n\nThe June after Mother turned 18 they married, and the following summer my brother Jack was born.\n\nMother was pregnant with me when we entered WWII. Father was pleased that despite his arm he was eligible to enlist, and he was one of the first young men in town to do so.\n\nThey put their furnishings in storage and Mother and Jack moved home with her parents.\n\nOne night five months later they'd sat down to dinner when the lights suddenly went off and came back on. It happened twice more, so Grandfather went to check the circuits while Mother, Grandmother, and Jack stayed at the table. Suddenly Mother felt a hug from behind, just the way Father would come up and hug her. The lights flickered again, Jack stared over Mother's head and yelled, \"Dad!\", then Mother fainted. She said later she'd felt a hug from behind, just the way John did when she was sitting down.\n\nWhen the telegram came, Mother told her parents she already knew. When she'd felt the hug and Jack called out, she knew John was dead and had come to say goodbye.\n\nI was born two weeks later. Mother said just after I was born she felt Father there again and in her head she heard him saying how much he wished he could have seen me before he died. She was never sure if she was dozing and dreamed it or if it really happened, but she always took comfort in it.\n\nI've always like the story of my father coming back long enough to see me.\n\nJ.R., USA\n\nE.B. writes:\n\nMy youngest son was 17 when he didn't come home one night. He'd walked out on a beautiful Saturday morning and completely disappeared. We contacted his friends, contacted the police, and no trace of him was found for weeks.\n\nI was in despair; he was my baby. As the weeks went by with no answers I sunk into depression. My children's father had been gone 15 years, and my second husband and I had been married 3 years. He was fond of the children and worried about my son, but he was more worried about me.\n\nI was sitting in the garden late one afternoon when suddenly my son walked in through the gate. I jumped up to hug him, crying in relief, but he held his hand out and stepped back, and when I tried to touch him, I felt only coolness. He told me he'd died, but he was fine and sorry to cause me so much grief. I collapsed back into the chair and he squatted down beside me. He was glowing; it looked like golden light was shining through his skin. He looked so well and so happy, but I couldn't touch him.\n\nHe told me he'd caught the bus to the beach and spent the day there. He fell asleep and woke up when it was dark and the beach fairly deserted. He decided on one last swim before heading home, but he was caught in the undertow. Suddenly he was watching his body from above as it sank and became tangled in something underwater.\n\nHe said he came to tell me that the wait was almost over; his body would be found the next day. He urged me not to look at it myself, but to have his oldest brother identify his body instead. He told me what trunks he'd been wearing, that he had ID in an inside pocket of them, and reminded me of the small tattoo he'd gotten illegally the year before: a dolphin on his right ankle.\n\nHe told me again that he loved me and that he really was fine and happy. He smiled his widest smile and looked like he looked at his happiest. Then he dissolved into golden light so bright it dazzled my eyes.\n\nI went inside and told my husband about it, but he thought I'd fallen asleep and dreamed the entire thing. I wrote it all down anyway because it seemed so real, and part of me was convinced it had happened exactly as I remembered it.\n\nThe next day we received a visit from a police officer asking us to come in to identify a body that they thought was my son. I called and asked my oldest son to do it and told him the trunks his brother had been wearing, that there should be ID in the inside pocket, and reminded him about the tattoo of a dolphin on the outside of his brother's right ankle.\n\nIt was my son's body, and it was just as he'd told me. My oldest son told me the medical examiner had told him the body was in bad shape and suggested he not try looking at the face but only at the tattoo, which he did.\n\nI'd never really believed in life after death before, and it still hurts 20 years later than my son died so young. But I know I'll see him again. In the meantime I now believe everyone who dies is probably just as well and happy as my son was.\n\nE.B.\n\nS.A. is an estate-planning professional with two grown children. She writes:\n\nI don't remember this myself but my mother has told me the story many times.\n\nMy mother's mother had a stroke when I was four years old. They'd told me Nana was in the hospital, but I didn't understand what it meant.\n\nOne afternoon my mother heard me laughing and singing in the back garden. After a while I came running in and called to her that I was getting my tea set. Mother was sewing, and as long as she could hear me and knew I was in the house or fenced back yard and sounded happy, she often let me play on my own.\n\nShe looked outside a while later and I'd set up my tea set at my little table with three places set. I was at one place, my baby doll was at one place, and I was laughing and chattering a mile a minute to the third place where there was an empty chair. She watched me for a few minutes before the phone rang. She answered it and found out her mother had just died, so she sat down to have a little cry.\n\nShe heard me say, \"bye-bye Nana!\" a few minutes later, and I came dancing into the house, full of smiles. I told her Nana was all better and had come for tea, but then she had to go to heaven so she gave me an extra kiss for my mother. I kissed her on the cheek, and she could smell her mother's perfume on me.\n\nS.A., Santa Clara\n\nC.L. is a retired police office who rescues feral cats and fosters kittens. She writes:\n\nMy husband was also a police officer. After eight years of happy marriage together, he died on duty. We were working different shifts and I was asleep when it happened. I was dreaming about him, and he kept telling me to look in the back of the closet because he'd gotten me a birthday present. He said he wanted me to have it now and wear it for his funeral instead of waiting for my birthday.\n\nI woke up to the knock on the door that notified me of his death. I didn't remember the dream until that night when I was in bed and getting sleepy. I went to the closet and found there was a small box just where he'd told me to look. Inside was a beautiful turquoise pendant of a butterfly I'd seen in Albuquerque when we'd gone there for a short vacation the month before. I'd loved it, but it was expensive. I hadn't known he'd realized how much I wished I could get it.\n\nI wore it to his funeral, as he'd asked. I also wore it whenever I was out of uniform for five years, and I thought of him every time.\n\nC.L., WA\n\nJ.F. is a widower whose only son died young. He writes:\n\nMy only son died at the age of eight; his mother had died not long after he was born.\n\nJamie and I were very close and I raised him alone despite my in-laws and family's objections.\n\nJamie had asked for a kitten when he was five years old. I agreed, and he picked one out, named her Oodle, fed her, helped clean her litter pan, and was always very gentle with her.\n\nOodle loved Jamie, too. She slept on his bed, and every night she'd go lay on the bed for reading time. She'd purr and knead on his favorite blanket, nudging his hand with her head to get her favorite places rubbed for several minutes before settling in against him.\n\nJamie was hit by a car on his way home from school and died the same day. That night Oodle went to his bed like usual, purring and kneading the blanket. I sat beside her and cried. She slept in there all night and I curled up and slept beside her.\n\nThe next night she did the same thing, and I sat on the bed and rubbed her ears, telling her Jamie had died. Suddenly I felt like Jamie was in the room and I froze. Oodle began licking the air and purring, the way she did if someone rubbed the base of her back by her tail. I let my hand drop from her head and she kept kneading the bed, purring, and licking the air. The feeling of Jamie being there faded, and Oodle settled down against my thigh, curling up in a purring ball.\n\nI believe my son said goodbye to both of us.\n\nOodle had a long life with me. I kept Jamie's bed until she died at a grand old age. She slept on it every night for the rest of her life.\n\nJ.F., Minnesota\n\n**Chapter 13: Dream Encounters**\n\nDennis E. is a computer engineer. He's married and has three grown children. He writes:\n\nIn my family everyone grew up hearing my great-grandmother's story. I've always heard her called \"Grandma Edwards\", but I never met her. She died a few years before I was born.\n\nGrandma Edward's second daughter, Elizabeth, had died when she was only eight years old. Many years later Granddad Edwards had a stroke and was taken to the hospital. He wasn't able to walk or speak afterwards and couldn't eat on his own. My great-grandmother knew he hated being dependent. She went over every day to see him; she'd sit with him, hold his hand, and tell him all the news. My mother was staying with her to help out and drove her back and forth to the hospital.\n\nGrandma Edwards said she dreamed about Granddad Edwards almost every night, but always everyday sort of dreams. Then one day about four months after his stroke she had a very vivid dream that she and Granddad Edwards were both young and healthy again. They were walking arm in arm at the old farm they'd had years before. They'd sold it in the 20s to move to town so their daughter Emily could attend high school without a two hour walk each way.\n\nGranddad told her he'd come to say goodbye and that he loved her. Suddenly there was a familiar looking little girl with him, and he said, \"And look who's here to walk home with me! It's Lizzie!\" Grandma Edwards realized it was their daughter, Elizabeth.\n\nShe woke up with a start and her face was wet with tears. She got up and washed her face just before the phone rang. My mother answered it and came in to tell her it was the hospital calling to say that Granddad Edwards had just died.\n\nDennis E., BC\n\nC.R. has three children, 12 grandchildren, and 11 great-grandchildren. She's a very active volunteer in her church. Her encounter was both a dream encounter and an auditory encounter. She writes:\n\nMy husband and I met in church when I was 17. He had very dark brown wavy hair and bright blue eyes, and I fell for him the first time I saw him. We married a year later, when I was 18 and he was 27.\n\nWe had a very happy life together. After his retirement we took trips each year, but our life at home was pleasant, too. We both enjoyed gardening, volunteer work, and keeping busy during the day, then relaxing together in the evening.\n\nI'd serve dinner at 5:30, when we'd clean up together. In the summer we often spent time in the garden reading or catching up on any gardening if it had been too warm to do it during the day. But in the winter we settled into the family room after dinner. I'd have my crocheting and my husband loved working on rugs. Back in the 1970s our youngest daughter had giving him a rug hooking kit and he enjoyed it. By the mid 1980s he was making his own designs and giving them as gifts to family and friends.\n\nWe'd watch something pleasant on television while we worked together, and the soft clicking of the latch hook was very soothing for me.\n\nJust after our 60th anniversary, R. had a heart attack. He survived and did well for a time, and he continued to enjoy designing and making rugs. But then three years later he had a second heart attack, and this time he didn't do well. The doctors told us the odds of surgery helping were minimal due to his age, so he elected to do his best to enjoy his remaining time instead. His doctor put him in a home hospice program and was clear that it was just a matter of time. R. and I have always had a very strong faith, and while I was sad to think of him passing, I knew he'd be with the Lord.\n\nA nurse came over every morning to check on R., but we didn't need further help. He could still get up and down with some help from me. At first he was still able to work on his last rug, but after a while he was only able to do a few pieces of yarn before his hands trembled and he got too weak to enjoy the work. After that he'd watch television and doze while I crocheted.\n\nOne night we were watching a show about the history of Christianity on the History Channel. I was very sleepy and drifted off sitting up in my chair, something I never do. I was in the back garden with R., but he was young and strong, with that dark, wavy hair I'd fallen for. We walked through the garden holding hands, then as we walked back towards the house he spoke. He told me he loved me and he promised he'd always be with me, but he was glad to be out of that old wreck of a body, too! We walked inside and the television was on, and then suddenly I was back in my chair and the television was still on the same scene.\n\nI turned to R. to tell him about my dream, but as soon as I saw him I knew he'd passed. I called the hospice number and someone arrived 15 minutes later. She stayed with me until his body was picked up, when I told her I'd be fine and she could go. I called our children and the church, and I went to bed and cried for a while, both in sadness that he was gone and in relief that it had been the gentle passing we'd both prayed for.\n\nOur house was full of family the next week as they all came and stayed for the funeral, then my granddaughter S. stayed for another week. By the end, as much as I loved her, I was ready to get back to my routine.\n\nThat night I settled in with my crocheting, and put on the History Channel. Another show (or it may have been the same one) on Christianity was on, and I left it on quietly, muting it during the commercials.\n\nIt was muted and I was focusing on my pattern when I realized I'd been hearing a familiar soft clicking noise for some time. I looked over, but of course R. wasn't there. But all evening I heard that soft noise, and in my mind's eye I saw the younger R. look up at me and wink before going back to his rug.\n\nIt's been 5 years now, and I sometimes still hear the clicking noise of the rug hook in the evening. I know R. is with me, just as he promised.\n\nC.R.\n\nJ.S. is a consultant whose first husband died not long after they were married. She writes:\n\nMike and I grew up together, fell in love in high school, and got married after my graduation. Mike was two years older and already working as a travelling salesman. It was hard seeing so little of him, but he called home every day just to say he loved me. We lived near my family and friends in a tiny apartment, so I wasn't lonely.\n\nMike was on a business trip and I was expecting him back the next night when the phone woke me up about 5 a.m.. When I answered it there was only static. I went back to sleep for a few minutes and had a very vivid dream of Mike telling me he was sorry. He said he loved me and always would. I could smell his aftershave when he hugged me and kissed my nose. The phone woke me up again, and again there was just static. I tried to get back into the dream of Mike but couldn't, so I got up.\n\nAbout 30 minutes later there was a knock on the door. It was a policewoman who asked to come in, and I knew then the news was bad.\n\nShe told me Mike had been killed in an accident just after 5 a.m., the same time the phone rang the first time. He'd been only a short ways from home, so he must have driven through the night to get home early and surprise me. A semi hit his car and he was killed.\n\nI believe the phone calls were from him and that he came into my dream to tell me goodbye.\n\nJ.S., USA\n\nP.B. is a disability activist who writes:\n\nI'd known my friend S. all my life. When he got ill, he tried everything, but in the end the cancer killed him. The day after he died, I dreamed he rang me up. He said he was fine and asked me to tell his parents how much he loved them, then he asked me to pick up a book he'd ordered for them at the local bookshop, saying it was already paid for. He didn't tell me the title of the book.\n\nWhen I woke up I remembered the dream much more clearly than any other dream I'd ever had. I called the bookshop, feeling rather embarrassed, and asked if S. had ordered a book. It turned out he had, and it had just come in. I explained the circumstances of his death, and they told me he'd mentioned it was a gift for his parents, so they'd wrapped it for him. They let me pick up it and I took it over to his parents.\n\nI told his parents about the dream and then handed them the wrapped book. His mother opened it, and it was \"Questions & Answers on Death & Dying\" by Elisabeth Kübler-Ross.\n\nP.B.\n\n**Chapter 14: Encounters with Those Thought to Be Alive**\n\nBob R. is a retired mechanic. He writes:\n\nWhen I was a young man, my first wife and our two daughters were in a car accident. My wife was killed immediately, our baby daughter had a broken leg, and our four year old daughter Anna was very badly hurt. She went in and out of consciousness. When she was conscious she was confused and couldn't seem to track what anyone was saying. She just kept whispering \"Mama!\" the first day. The doctors advised not telling her the truth in case she might understand and get more upset, so instead I told her that her mother had been hurt in the accident and couldn't come to her.\n\nThe doctors warned me that Anna would probably not survive, so my mother and I both sat with her around the clock. The second day she didn't wake up until evening when she suddenly opened her eyes, smiled her happiest smile, and said, \"Mama's here and we're going! Mama's all better! I'm almost all better! She loves Lizzie and she loves you, Daddy! And Nanna! And Grandma and Poppy! And I love you all, too!\" Her voice was barely more than a whisper, but my mother and I both heard it. She lapsed back into unconsciousness and died a few hours later, with my mother and I holding her hands.\n\nMy mother and I often talked about what had happened, and we both found it very comforting. The doctor dismissed it as a hallucination, but if it was one, it was one that made Anna's passing comfortable for her as well as giving me and my mother the hope that she was with her mother and that they were both \"all better!\"\n\nBob R., USA\n\nA.J. is a retired nurse who volunteers at the local hospice and her church and fosters animals. She writes:\n\nMy only daughter died when she was five years old. My husband was stationed overseas when she had what started as a bad cold. Pamela died 10 days later.\n\nI wrote to my husband as soon as the doctor told me there was no hope and again when Pamela died. She was buried in her Sunday dress, with her beloved stuffed rabbit snuggled up next to her.\n\nA month later I got a long letter from my husband, who'd been wounded in action the day after Pamela died (and long before he'd gotten either letter).\n\nHe wrote to me that his unit had walked into a trap and he'd been badly hurt. He was lying in some underbrush and sure he was dying when suddenly Pamela was sitting on the ground next to him as clear as anything. She was wearing her Sunday dress and holding his hand. She said, \"Daddy! Don't be scared, you're going to be okay! I won't leave you!\" She told him she loved him and that he'd see me soon when he went home. She had her stuffed rabbit, Jack, and she set him on D.'s chest and reminded him that Jack was her \"most favoritest\" name. She sat with him until he heard voices speaking English. He passed out then and woke up later at the hospital.\n\nPamela was right. Her father was sent home rather the worse for wear, but he recovered fairly well. Three years later we had a beautiful son whom we named John and called Jack, in honor of Pamela's \"most favoritest name.\"\n\nJack's favorite toy was a stuffed bear. D. and I called his bear Teddy, like all bears, but when Jack started talking, he told us very emphatically that his bear's name was Pammy. Jack and Pammy were inseparable; even long after she got bedraggled and he felt too old for a stuffed animal, he kept her in his closet.\n\nWe always had pictures of D., me, and Pamela in the house, but we didn't really talk about them. One Sunday afternoon when Jack was about four, he stared at one of the pictures of Pamela for a long time then climbed into D.'s lap with the picture and announced that the girl in the picture was the \"other Pammy\" who picked out his bear, and that's why his bear was named Pammy. Then he told us that he'd picked out Pamela's bunny and that was why she'd named him Jack. He went to sleep in D.'s lap a short while later, and D. and I sat there for a long time together, cuddling Jack and feeling stunned.\n\nWe had supper late and when I put Jack to bed, he hugged me and told me I didn't need to miss my Pammy, because she was always around. I cried myself to sleep in D.'s arms that night.\n\nJack never talked like that again, and when I asked him when he was older, he didn't remember any of it.\n\nD. and I always remembered it although we didn't talk about it often. D. died a few years ago. Knowing that Pamela and Jack could be so close and love each other so much even though they didn't live at the same time is very comforting to me. It gives me hope that D. is with Pamela now, watching over Jack and me.\n\nA.J.\n\nEmi T. is describes herself as a SAHM (\"stay at home mom\") of three. She writes:\n\nI had a wonderful best friend when I was about five. We'd moved to a house from our apartment to be closer to the doctor because I needed special treatments. I was very sick for the first few months we lived there. Lia came into my room one day when I was home alone. She was just a little older than me. She seemed as surprised to see me as I was to see her, but we become best friends immediately. I was weak and had to stay in bed most of the time, so I'd be alone in my room when my mother and father were at work and my brother and sisters went to school. After Lia arrived, whenever I felt scared and lonesome, she always showed up and held my hand. When I was sick and miserable she'd sit with me, sing songs her mother sang to her, and tell me stories. She seemed very real to me, but my family made jokes about my \"imaginary friend.\" I remember getting very angry that they'd tease her by pretending they didn't see her, but Lia said they were just worried about me and not to worry about it.\n\nWhen I got better and stronger, I could go in the back garden to play. Lia and I loved to have tea parties with my dolls there. One day we were playing in the garden and my mother needed me. When I went back outside Lia was gone. I called and called for her but she never came back. My mother told me she must have moved and I was heartbroken. Later I made other friends, especially once I was well enough for school, but I never forgot Lia and how much she helped me when I was so sick. When my daughter was born three years ago, I named her Lia over my mother's objections, and I sing the songs Lia sang to me to my own children, who love them as much as I do.\n\nNot long after my daughter was born, my oldest boy started talking about an imaginary friend. When I told my mother about it, she got very upset and asked me to invite my Auntie Maymay for a visit. She refused to say why or tell me what had upset her. I invited Auntie and it was a pleasant visit. She spent a lot of time with the children, including playing with my oldest boy and his imaginary friend. I still didn't understand why my mother had gotten upset, so the last day of Auntie's visit, I finally pressed her to tell me.\n\nShe told me she'd come to visit when I was a little girl, about a year after we'd moved to that house, and she'd seen me playing with a little girl she could see right through. She went in and asked my mother if she knew the little girl I was playing with, and my mother told her about my imaginary friend Lia. She told my mother to keep me inside for a little, then Auntie came out and told me my mother needed my help. While I was inside she talked to Lia and told her she was dead. She said Lia seemed surprised that Auntie would talk to her and puzzled about what Auntie meant by being dead, but when Auntie told her to look for a bright light she suddenly started to glow brighter and brighter until she disappeared.\n\nLater Auntie talked to neighbors and found out the previous occupants of the house had a little girl named Lia who'd died only a few weeks before we moved in. The description of that Lia matched my Lia.\n\nMother was worried that I might have called my friend Lia's spirit back by naming my daughter Lia. Because Auntie had seen her before, she wanted Auntie to come check.\n\nEmi T.\n\nS.T. is 27 and works as a primary school teacher.\n\nWhen I was young we had a very, very shy little white cat named Fluff. I couldn't remember a time she hadn't been there, and I loved her as much as I loved my parents.\n\nFluff looked like her name, a little ball of fluff. She wouldn't let me touch her directly; she'd run away faster than I could see when I tried. Because I didn't want her to run away, I learned to not try to pet her. She'd only come out at night when I was in bed with the lights out, slipping into my room and jumping up on the bed. She'd stomp around for a minute making biscuits, then settle against me, a warm, purry little heater. If I stayed under the covers, I could stroke her gently through them. If my door was closed at night she'd cry and scratch at it, so I always left it open a crack.\n\nI still remember the night before my seventh birthday, the night she went away. I woke up and there was a familiar-looking lady in my room, but I didn't know who she was. Fluff was sitting on her lap and purring; I couldn't remember ever seeing anyone touch Fluff before. The lady told me it was time for Fluff to go, but she'd only go if I told her it was okay. I started crying and the lady hugged me and held me in her lap, too, and for the first time I could remember, I touched Fluff without her running away.\n\nI asked why she had to go, and the lady said Fluff should have left a long time ago, but she loved me too much. I didn't want Fluff to go, but the lady told me it was very important. After I'd had a good cry, I told Fluff it was okay to go. I got back in bed, and Fluff settled against me for a few minutes. She was purring, making biscuits, and letting me pet her. After a little while the lady picked her up and walked out the door, thanking me for loving Fluff so much. I cried myself to sleep.\n\nIn the morning I kept crying and begged my mother to have a funeral with me. She finally did, and I have a photo of Fluff's grave, with white stones in a circle around it.\n\nWhen I got married, my mother gave me the photo album she'd kept of me growing up. I was surprised to see pictures of Fluff in them—she'd even slept in my crib when I was small! Mom said she'd never seen a cat who was so gentle and affectionate with a baby, and she'd been that way with me her whole life.\n\nAfter a few more pages Fluff wasn't in any more photos. I asked my mother why and why Fluff stopped letting me pet her. I thought maybe I'd been too rough and hurt or scared her.\n\nMom asked me what I meant, and I said Fluff wasn't in any more pictures after I was three or so. I reminded her of how Fluff would only snuggle with me at night but wouldn't come out at all during the day or let me pet her. Mother said Fluff wasn't in any more pictures because she'd gotten out and been hit by a car when I was three. I said I was glad she'd been okay, even if she was scared of people, and my mother looked at me very strangely. She said, \"No, Sarah, Fluff _died_ when you were three.\"\n\nFluff might have died when I was three, but I know Fluff loved me so much she slept curled up with me every night for almost four more years.\n\nS.T.\n\nShelly is majoring in Computer Science. She writes:\n\nWe got my dog Tinkerbelle when I was eight years old. She was just a tiny baby, but she grew into a huge mixed breed who outweighed me within a year. She was my baby, and my mom and dad called us Shelly and Belly. She slept on my bed every night.\n\nMy mom and dad split up when I was 14, and because dad travelled a lot for work, I lived with mom. I'd go over irregularly to visit dad, but usually just for a day or two, and for his birthday and Father's day.\n\nThe year I was 16, I'd gone over to dad's for Father's day and was staying the night. I'd had a coke with dinner and was all wired up, so long after lights out I was having a hard time getting sleepy.\n\nI'd finally gotten sleepy when I heard Belly; she went click-click-click walking up the hall, nudged the door open, click-click-clicked across the floor, and her collar jangled as she jumped up on the bed and settled in next to me. I snuggled up to her and fell right asleep.\n\nIn the morning I felt her against me as I was starting to wake up (early, because dad had to go in to work), then she was gone. I didn't hear her get down so I figured I'd fallen back asleep. I got dressed and went downstairs. Dad was drinking his coffee in the kitchen, and I asked him where she was. He laughed and said he knew I was sleepy, but I was at his house, remember? I told him she'd just been there and she'd slept with me, but he insisted I must have dreamed it, while I insisted mom must have dropped her off. I was starting to freak out, so I called mom.\n\nMom sounded funny. She told me she'd just been going to come get me because she had some bad news. I felt a chill and asked her if it was about Belly. Mom told me yes, that Belly had been fine when she went to bed, but when she got up Belly had died. I started to cry and begged dad to not leave until mom got there.\n\nWhen mom arrived I told her about Belly coming to sleep with me, and dad told mom how sure I'd been that she'd brought Belly over without telling him.\n\nSince Belly's death there've been two more times I've heard and felt her. The first time was the night after my best friend Sue got badly hurt a crash. I felt Belly lying against me when I was mostly asleep. I didn't remember until morning that Belly was dead. (Sue got better, but it took a long time.) The other time was the night after my Nan died. Belly came in and lied down on the bed with me when I was crying myself to sleep. Just like the time before, I didn't remember until morning that she was dead.\n\nI'm glad she visits me. I always feel better.\n\nShelly, CA\n\nRita W. does volunteer work and enjoys time with her family. She writes:\n\nI was at loose ends when my younger daughter started school. The local convalescent hospital needed volunteers so I signed up and enjoyed it very much. I went in from 10 a.m. to 2 p.m. and would help patients by delivering their flowers and cards, visiting those who were lonely or scared, playing cards or board games with those who wanted the company, and running their errands, like picking up a book from the hospital library or purchasing stationery or cards.\n\nOne of my favorite patients was Mrs. M. I don't know what was wrong with her aside from old age, but she was there when I started volunteering. She got flowers or cards almost every day, but she told me her husband was gone and her children all lived far away. Most days she was very bright and alert, but some days she would just sort of stare into space.\n\nOn her bad days I often got the feeling she was lonesome, so I would sit with her and tell her about my day, what was in the news, or what was happening on the serials she used to watch. I'd often hold her hand, and even when she didn't talk, she'd squeeze my hand when it was time for me to go.\n\nSometimes on her good days she'd tell me how glad she was that I was there on her bad days, so I always tried to make time for her. She had a bad spell about six months after I started working there, and during that time there were more days where she didn't seem to recognize me and didn't talk to me. On those days where she didn't know me, I still sat and talked to her, and sometimes I sang the songs she'd told me she liked.\n\nOne day I heard her voice as I came down the hall, and she sound bright and very happy. I didn't have anything to deliver that day but poked my head in her room to say I'd stop in a little later to visit, and I saw she had a visitor. I came back about an hour later, and she introduced me to her sister Mamie, who was much younger. Her sister was quiet but smiled at me as she held Mrs. M's hand. I was so glad she had family visiting and didn't want to intrude, so I excused myself after a short time. When I was getting ready to leave for the day I heard them singing a lovely song about summer and stopped to listen. The next morning I met Mrs. M.'s son for the only time. He'd been called because she had taken a sudden turn for the worse and wasn't expected to live more than a short time. I was shocked because she'd been so happy and alert the day before and now she was unconscious.\n\nMr. M. seemed very lost sitting with his mother, and I asked if he'd like me to sit with her for a while. He told me she'd mentioned me often and he thought she'd like to hear my voice, so we chatted while sitting with her. I mentioned the lovely song his mother had been singing Friday and sang a bit of it. Mr. M. told me it was a song his grandmother had made up; he'd grown up hearing it.\n\nI told him how much I'd enjoyed it when his mother and aunt had been singing it together, and I mentioned how glad I was that his aunt had been able to visit while his mother was so alert.\n\nMr. M. told me his only aunt had died many years earlier, when he was a young man. He said he needed to go for a walk and think, so I sat with Mrs. M. and sang the song to her. I got the funniest feeling that her sister was singing to her, too, even though I couldn't hear another voice.\n\nMr. M. came back just before it was time for me to leave. He took a photo out of his billfold and showed it to me; it showed his mother and aunt when they were in their 30s. His aunt looked just like the Mamie that I'd met.\n\nRita W., USA\n\n**Chapter 15: Meaningful Symbols**\n\nTom E. is a retired doctor who's relishing his retirement. He enjoys spending time with his children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. He writes:\n\nMy wife loved to garden. Every year she'd organize her different garden spots: one for hummingbirds, one for butterflies, one for the kitchen, one for flowers for the house. The butterfly garden was her favorite, and she loved to spend time out there.\n\nMy wife was diagnosed with cancer when she was 64. She was a trouper, but the treatments left her very weak, and she became unable to garden. I hired someone to come over and maintain her gardens, and I'd carry her outside every day to sit in the shady nook she'd set up to watch her butterflies.\n\nOn a cool, breezy fall day in her garden, lying in my arms with all the family around her, she died.\n\nAt her funeral a butterfly made its way into the church and landed on her portrait. It sat there through the entire service before fluttering away when the service ended and people began moving.\n\nAt the cemetery three beautiful Monarchs landed on her coffin briefly before circling the family, then flying off.\n\nMy five year old great-grandson asked his mother, \"Were those Grandma's butterflies?\" and she told him yes. But I think it was my wife, sending me a message that she was well and happy again.\n\nTom E.\n\nCathy B. writes:\n\nMy grandmother loved cats and collected little cat figures, as well as things with cats on them, like teacups, coffee cups, pillows, and kitchenware.\n\nGranny had a set of low bookshelves where she kept the figure. Every time we visited I loved to spend hours moving around the figures and making up stories about them.\n\nGranny had a stroke while I was in Europe for an exchange year; she died two weeks later. My parents didn't think it was cost effective for me to fly home and then have to fly back again to finish school, so I missed getting to see her before she died and couldn't go to her funeral.\n\nGranny had wanted me to have her cat figures if anything ever happened to her; she'd always told me that. Unfortunately they were sold with her other things while I was away, which I didn't find out until later.\n\nTwo days after Granny died, I was having a terrible day. I'd dreamed about Granny and been weepy all day, the usual road home was blocked for some reason, and as I went down another street, it started to pour. Then my umbrella wouldn't open, so I ducked into a little shop I'd never seen before.\n\nIt was mostly housewares, linens, clothes, and toys, but there was one shelf of knickknacks. One was a little figure of an orange tabby that looked just like one Granny had that I'd always loved. I bought it; it felt like Granny had somehow sent me to that shop.\n\nLater that year when I was home again and looking through photos, I discovered that the figure I'd found wasn't just similar to Granny's but looked identical.\n\nI still have it. When I see it I remember how horrible that day started as things went wrong, pushing me down a road I didn't know and into a shop I'd never visited, all to find the figure Granny wanted me to have.\n\nCathy B\n\n**Chapter 16: Electronic Encounters**\n\nB.P. teaches primary school. She writes:\n\nMy mother and I were always close friends as well as mother and daughter. Every year on my birthday, she'd call me at 7 p.m. to wish me a happy birthday.\n\nWhen I was 24 I met K., and our first date was on my birthday. She may have been amused that I insisted on being home by 7 p.m., but she never showed it. She always insisted she was very happy to share our anniversary with my mother.\n\nWhen we moved in together the next year, I told my mother I was as close to married as I was likely to get. She promptly rang K. and asked how she'd feel about being referred to as \"my daughter in law\"; K. was delighted.\n\nMother died a week before my 40th birthday and I was devastated. K. was wonderful. She asked what I wanted to do on our anniversary, and when I said I wanted to stay home, she made a wonderful dinner and spent the day holding me every time I started to weep.\n\nWe were curled up together on the bed, both half asleep while watching a movie, when the phone rang. K. answered it without thinking and no-one was there. She hung up and then we both noticed it was 7 p.m. just as the phone rang again. This time I answered it, and all I heard was static. At the same time I felt like my mother was right there, even though I couldn't see her.\n\nFor the next three years the phone rang every year for my birthday, always at 7p.m., always with static.\n\nAbout that time K. and I had discussed getting rid of the land line and just using our cell phones. I dreaded the thought of missing what I always called \"my mother's yearly call\" and kept going back and forth.\n\nThat year at 7 p.m. the house phone didn't ring, but my cell phone did. We got rid of the land line.\n\nK and I have been married for almost seven years now. We married on my birthday, so it's our anniversary twice over. My mother still calls at 7 p.m. every year.\n\nB.P.\n\nJ.S. is a librarian with a young daughter. She writes:\n\nWhile I was pregnant in 2004, I went to see my best friend for a short visit. I was in a taxi to the train station to come home that Sunday afternoon when my phone rang. It was my grandmother, and she told me to have the taxi pull over immediately. I was embarrassed and told her I couldn't do that, but she insisted and said if I loved her, DO IT NOW, so I asked the driver to pull over. The driver told me he needed to keep the meter running, I agreed, and he pulled over. Grandma made me promise we were really stopped, then the phone went dead as soon as I gave her my word. Seconds later there was a squeal of tires up the road and the sound of a terrible crash. A truck had run a red light at the intersection and crashed into a utility pole. If we'd been in the intersection, I'm sure the taxi would have been hit.\n\nI tried calling Grandma back, but there was no answer. I went on to the station and caught my train. When I arrived at the local station that evening, my husband picked me up. He said my mom wanted me to call as soon as I got back, so I called while we were on the way home.\n\nMom told me she'd gone over to check on Grandma that afternoon because she wasn't answering her phone, and Grandma had passed away. Mom had found her about the same time Grandma called me.\n\nJ.S., USA\n\nD.S. writes:\n\nMy partner's widowed father was opinionated, brilliant, a professed atheist, and one of the most loving men I'd ever met. My father had died when I was young, and J. treated me like a daughter for the 17 years I knew him.\n\nJ. considered all religion \"hokey\" and wasn't shy about saying so, although he was usually careful of others' feelings and didn't mention the subject when he thought it might hurt or upset someone.\n\nWhen he was in his late 50s, he died very suddenly while on a trip. My partner and I were both devastated by the sudden loss.\n\nJ. had always said he didn't want a funeral or any of that \"hokey\" stuff, but if we wanted to host friends and family for a wake, well, that would be just fine with him. He even told us to feel free to raid his collection of imported whiskeys, brandies, and wines for the occasion.\n\nSo we had a wake, inviting his friends, co-workers, and family, serving all his favorite party foods, and toasting him with his own extensive collection of special wines and alcohols. Everyone shared their memories of J. and toasted him, and we all ended up laughing and crying many times during the evening.\n\nMy partner had made a mix tape of music her father had liked, and it was playing quietly in the background.\n\nTowards the end of the evening J.'s friend L. said, \"I wonder what old J. thinks now that he's dead. Was he right, or was I?\" and suddenly something M. swears she never put on that tape started playing, \"You do the hokey pokey and you turn yourself around, that's what it's all about!\"\n\nIt started in the middle of the song, played just that phrase, then the music M. had put on the tape continued.\n\nPeople were all looking at each other and laughing, none harder than his friend L., who'd had a lifetime of J.'s rants on religion being \"hokey.\"\n\nWe rewound that tape half a dozen times, none of us really believing it, but about 10 seconds of \"The Hokey Pokey\" were in the middle of the mix tape. L. commented that if J. had survived death after being so sure it was the end of existence, then he certainly must be turning himself around, and we all laughed.\n\nIt became a joke among our family and friends that when someone changed their mind, they were hokey pokeying, and we still use the term. We had that tape for 15 years before it disappeared during a move, but in my mind I can still hear L. asking his question and the song suddenly blaring out from the quiet mix tape.\n\nD.S.\n\nThis is another one of my own experiences. ~ C.A.S.\n\nOur beautiful, long-haired black cat Sunspot came to us in December 1994 after being abandoned by neighbors who'd left him behind when they moved. He was only about 8-10 weeks old at the time and my husband and I agreed right away to adopt him. Paul christened him \"Sunspot\" and we called him Sunny or Puppy; he was very much a puppy in a cat suit and loved to follow us around and sing in a chirpy little voice.\n\nWhen he was 14 he was diagnosed with metastasised adenocarcinoma; the metastases were on his toe pads and the prognosis was very poor: several weeks to several months at best.\n\nA few days later I stumbled across an article about turkey tail mushrooms and cancer, so I ordered some to add to his food. Within a few weeks the tumors started falling off and pretty soon he was bouncing around again.\n\nHe had two good years before he started failing in the summer of 2010, although we missed the signs at first. He'd forget where he was and pee where he was sleeping, curl up on my footstool out of sight, then one day he didn't want to go downstairs to eat. After that he stayed upstairs all the time. He ate well and was his usual loving self for several weeks, then one day he didn't want to eat anymore. He told me he wanted to die naturally at home. I did my best to honor that, although it was one of the hardest things I've ever done.\n\nHis last night I'd gotten ready for bed when I felt the need to get back up and cuddle him for a while. I took him downstairs to the glider and cuddled him against me for about 20 minutes. He purred softly for a few minutes, then had a seizure and went stiff. I brought him upstairs and woke Paul, and Sunspot passed over with the people who loved him petting him and telling him it was fine to go.\n\nAbout 10 minutes later, I heard his familiar chirp and jumped, then I heard it again and the lights flickered. I realized his chirp was actually the surge protector, but instead of beeping repeatedly the way it usually did, it was single chirps, just like Sunny's voice. The lights flickered again and the surge protector chirped again, and I started laughing through my tears. I told Sunny out loud that I was glad he'd transitioned and how much I loved him; I know it was him telling me goodbye.\n\nC.A. Starfire\n\n**Chapter 17: Other Encounters**\n\nE.C. is an administrative assistant with a partner and adult twin daughters. She writes:\n\nI grew up hearing my grandmother's story about her twin uncles, James and John. James had gone to Arizona to work, while John stayed in Washington with the family. One day John collapsed and said he'd had a terrible pain in his chest. His wife said he said \"James?\", although he always denied it. She called the doctor who could find nothing wrong. That night the phone rang, and it was James' wife, telling him James had died that afternoon of a heart attack, the same time John had collapsed.\n\nI'd always thought that was a romantic story but unlikely to be true. Then two years ago one of my daughters was badly hurt during a rafting accident. She struck her head and almost drowning. My other daughter was at home and we were in the garden. Suddenly Jaime sat down and said very loudly, \"No! Jen, come back!\" and fainted. We found out later it happened at the same time Jen was being resuscitated. Neither of them recalls anything about it. Jen only remembers waking at the hospital, and Jaime only remembers getting dizzy in the garden.\n\nJen's fine now, but sometimes I wonder if she'd still be with us if her twin sister hadn't called her back. (I've changed both their names for their privacy.)\n\nE.C., WA\n\nThank you very much for reading _Visits From Beyond: True Stories of After Death Encounters_! If you enjoyed it, I hope you'll consider doing me a tremendous favor and telling your friends and family about it. I'd also be grateful if you'd consider posting a review at Amazon, Smashwords, Goodreads, or any other online site. This is my first book, and I'd appreciate any and all encouragement!\n\nC.A. Starfire\n\n**Thank yous**\n\nI'd like to thank again all the people who so generously shared their stories for this book.\n\nMy thanks and gratitude to: T.B., Mary M., M.O., Jan S., Marilyn S., A.T., William S., Kelly M., Jessie N., L.T., E.M., Jim T., Scott M., A.W., Mary E., L.T., Elizabeth E., Ed R., Kathy G., L.R., E.B., S.A., C.L., J.F., Dennis E., C.R., J.S., P.B., Bob R., A.J., Emi T., S.T., Shelly, Rita W., Tom E., Cathy B., B.P., J.S., D.S., and E.C.\n\nA special thank you to Janet Lee Carpenter for her help in editing and polishing this manuscript as well as for her feedback on it. Her generosity and attention to detail have been invaluable.\n\nThank you to my loved ones both in and out of the body who encouraged me and cheered me on.\n\nAnd thank you to each of you who reads this book.\n\nC.A. Starfire\n\n**About the Author**\n\nC.A. Starfire has been exploring the metaphysical and spiritual all her life, beginning with several out of body experiences as a small child, then learning Transcendental Meditation as a pre-teen, alpha brainwave programming in her mid teens, and energy work and self-guided meditation and visualisation in her late teens. She began doing readings and guided visualisations for friends, family, and coworkers as a young adult.\n\nHaving been partially raised by her maternal grandmother who enjoyed saying, \"You can call me anything, just don't call me late for dinner!\", she cheerfully answers to Chris, Carys, Cats, Starfire, and quite a few nicknames.\n\nHousebound due to disabling chronic illness, she enjoys spending time with her husband and cats, \"seeing\" her friends and family online, and writing.\n\nIn 2009 she found was again able to do intuitive and psychic readings and opened Starfire Studio.\n\nHer hobbies include reading, organic gardening, herbalism, digital painting, knitting, felting, photography, cat-herding, and rainbow collecting.\n\nShe lives in a funny cattycorner-shaped cottage on 20 acres in the Lorane Wine Valley with her husband and nine house cats. They share the acreage with Luna, a Maine Coon cat who shuns houses, deer, wild turkeys, rabbits, hawks, owls, snakes, lizards, and many other sorts of wildlife. The land is covered in Douglas fir, Oregon white oak, apple trees, crab apple trees, grapes, medlars, blackberries, wild roses, and an abundance of herbs and wild plants.\n\nHer first book, _Visits From Beyond: True Stories of After Death Encounters_ , was published in June 2012, and her second, _Angelic Encounters: True Stories of Angelic Protection, Assistance, and Comfort_ , was published August 2012. Both are available online at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Smashwords, and other online ebook retailers.\n\nYou can reach her at her website http://www.starfire-studio.com, her Starfire Studio Facebook page, and her Facebook author page. She's also on Goodreads, LibraryThing, and Smashwords.\n\nDo you have a story of an after death encounter, angel encounter, out of body experience, or near death experience you'd like to share for a future volume? If so, please visit:\n\n<http://www.starfire-studio.com/submissions.html>\n\nC.A. Starfire\n\n**BONUS!**\n\nI hope you'll enjoy the following story from my new book, _Angelic Encounters: True Stories of Angelic Protection, Assistance, and Comfort_ , published August 2012.\n\nKate T. is a teacher at a satellite school. She has three adult children, two grandchildren, two cats, a dog, and four fish. She writes:\n\nI was seven, Lori was four, and Peggy was almost ten when this happened. We lived in a poor part of town where there were no sidewalks, only dirt and rocks. There were a few run down apartment houses, but there were mostly very small wooden houses.\n\nOur house was in a court of six houses built around a paved spot for parking. Looking back the houses were very tiny, but I didn't know anything different. We kids shared a bed in one bedroom, and Mama and Papa had a tiny bedroom. There was a small bathroom with a shower, sink, and toilet, and one side of the living room had a counter and a stove, refrigerator, and sink.\n\nMama and Papa had a little store about six blocks away. Peggy and I always picked up Lori from our aunt's apartment when we got out of school. The three of us were home alone until Mama came home to make supper at 6. Mama went back after supper to help Papa until the store closed at 9. We had good neighbors on both sides and we all knew to go to them if we needed anything or if we just got spooked or scared being home alone.\n\nOne night Peggy was still reading in bed, and Lori and I were asleep, when a strange lady came right in the front door. She told Peggy to wake us up and get us dressed because we had to go to the store right away. Peggy got us up and dressed, and the lady walked us to the store but didn't come in. Mama and Papa were surprised to see us and angry at us for staying up so late. Peggy kept telling them about the lady but they didn't believe her.\n\nIt was just after closing time by then, so they finished up and we all walked home together. There were sirens in the distance and they got louder the closer we got to home. Papa told us to stay with Mama and ran ahead to see what was happening, then came running back. He talked quietly to Mama for a minute, then he turned us around and took us all back to the store. Papa went out again and came back with some blankets and pillows. He told us we were going to camp out in the store for a few days. About a week later we moved into a new house that was on the other side of the store in a nicer neighborhood. We girls still shared a room, but we each had our own beds and the kitchen and living rooms were separate rooms. We even went to a different school.\n\nI didn't find out until I was eleven that there was a fire in the court that night. All the houses were destroyed, several people were hospitalized, and three children who were home alone and asleep died. When Papa came back it was because the firemen wouldn't let anyone close. He went back the next day and found only smoking rubble where our house had been. All the houses were so old and badly made they'd burned like paper. We lost everything. Papa told me once that picked a new neighborhood far away in the other direction so Lori and I wouldn't find out that some of our friends had died in the fire, although he and Mama went to the funeral. He asked Peggy to not tell us until we were older, and she never said a word to me about it until I asked her about it.\n\nI don't know why my sisters and I were spared while the other children died, and it still bothers me sometimes. I remember so clearly that walk in the dark night and holding hands with the lady we didn't know. She looked a little like Mama or Aunt Rosa, with dark, glossy hair, and she talked like them, too. But we never saw her again. Mama and Papa called her our guardian angel.\n\nKate T.\n\n###END###\n\n", "meta": {"pile_set_name": "BookCorpus2"}}
{"text": " \nAll glory to Śrī Śrī Guru-Gaurāṅga\n\nRevealed Truth\n\nA compilation of discourses  \nilluminating the essence of   \nŚrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu's teachings\n\nby  \nHis Divine Grace\n\nŚrīla Bhakti Sundar Govinda Dev-Goswāmī Mahārāj\n\n© 2012 Sri Chaitanya Saraswat Math\n\nAll rights reserved by\n\nThe Current Sevaite-President-Acharya of Sri Chaitanya Saraswat Math\n\nFounder Acharya:\n\nHis Divine Grace Srila Bhakti Raksak Sridhar Dev-Goswami Maharaj\n\nSuccessor Sevaite-President-Acharya:\n\nHis Divine Grace Srila Bhakti Sundar Govinda Dev-Goswami Maharaj\n\nCurrent Sevaite-President-Acharya:\n\nHis Divine Grace Srila Bhakti Nirmal Acharya Maharaj\n\nPublished by:\n\nSri Chaitanya Saraswat Math  \nKolerganj,  \nPost Office: Nabadwip,  \nDistrict: Nadia,  \nWest Bengal, Pin 741302,  \nIndia\n\nCompiler\n\nSri Bhakti Kamal Tyagi\n\nSenior Editor\n\nSripad Mahananda Das Bhakti Ranjan\n\nEditor\n\nVishakha Devi Dasi\n\nDesigner\n\nMahamantra Das Adhikari\n\nProofreaders\n\nJagadananda Das Adhikari  \nJay Govinda Das Adhikari  \nNrsimha Chaitanya Das Adhikari  \nSrilekha Devi Dasi  \nIndulekha Devi Dasi  \nAshapurna Devi Dasi  \nAnanda Moyi Devi Dasi\n\nAdditional assistance by\n\nSadhu Priya Das Adhikari  \nAnukrishna Devi Dasi  \nVaidehi Devi Dasi\n\nFunded by\n\nSudarshan Das Adhikari\n\nConsultant\n\nSrila Bhakti Sudhir Goswami Maharaj\n\nPrinted by\n\nCDC Printers  \nTangra Industrial Estate-II  \n45 Radhanath Chowdury Road  \nKolkata-700 015\n\nFirst Printing 2012:\n\n3,000 copies\nDedication\n\nOffered to the lotus hands   \nof Śrīla Bhakti Nirmal Āchārya Mahārāj  \non the occasion of   \nŚrīla Bhakti Sundar Govinda Dev-Goswāmī Mahārāj's   \ndivine appearance day,   \n30 December 2012.\nPreface\n\nI begin by offering my obeisance to the lotus feet of my Divine Master, Om Viṣṇupād Śrīla Bhakti Sundar Govinda Dev-Goswāmī Mahārāj, praying that this offering may satisfy his heart and that by his grace I may make this offering with all the chastity, sincerity, love, and affection that he desires from his aspiring servitors. Next I offer my obeisances to all the aspiring servitors of Śrīla Govinda Mahārāj's lotus feet, as it is by their mercy that I am so fortunate as to have a connection with His Divine Grace and the opportunity to make this offering. Finally, I offer my obeisances to all the readers who open their hearts to the divine teachings presented in this book.\n\nI would like to explain the origin of this compilation. Śrīla Bhakti Sundar Govinda Dev-Goswāmī Mahārāj has travelled the world twenty-four times over the last eighteen years preaching the teachings of Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu, Śrīla Rūpa Goswāmī Prabhu, Śrīla Bhakti Siddhānta Saraswatī Ṭhākur, and Śrīla Bhakti Rakṣak Śrīdhar Dev-Goswāmī Mahārāj. A relatively boundless mine of Śrīla Govinda Mahārāj's recorded discourses now exists. Revealed Truth is an attempt to excavate, prepare, and array a collection of gems from this mine.\n\nConsidering that both content and organisation are elements of revelation, in Revealed Truth content from Śrīla Govinda Mahārāj's lectures has been structured according to one of Śrīla Govinda Mahārāj's favoured models of presentation: the Daśa-mūla-tattva, Śrīla Bhakti Vinod Ṭhākur's consolidation of Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu's siddhānta into ten fundamental principles. Śrīman Mahāprabhu delineated the whole of revealed knowledge using three foundational concepts: sambandha, abhidheya, and prayojan. He summarised these as Kṛṣṇa, Kṛṣṇa-bhakti, and Kṛṣṇa-prema. More specifically, sambandha-jñān means understanding Kṛṣṇa, His energies, and their relationships; abhidheya means the practice of pure devotion to Kṛṣṇa; and prayojan means the ultimate necessity of every soul: love for Kṛṣṇa. Śrīla Bhakti Vinod Ṭhākur summarises Śrīman Mahāprabhu's teachings on sambandha, abhidheya, and prayojan in the introductory verse of his Daśa-mūla-tattva, in effect, encapsulating the whole of Gauḍīya Vaiṣṇava siddhānta in a single verse. Revealed Truth presents Śrīla Govinda Mahārāj's lectures as\n\nThe aim of Revealed Truth is not to publish particular discourses of Śrīla Govinda Mahārāj, as has been done in previous publications, but to expound prominent themes within the compass of Śrīla Govinda Mahārāj's preaching by weaving together content from numerous lectures with the hope of making the profundity of Śrīla Govinda Mahārāj's realisations and teachings clearly accessible. To further this end, Revealed Truth's typographic scheme arrays images, captions, verse translations, and scriptural references beside the text to augment its themes. All translation has been done with reference to commentaries by Śrīla Viśvanāth Chakravartī Ṭhākur, Śrīla Bhakti Vinod Ṭhākur, Śrīla Bhakti Siddhānta Saraswatī Ṭhākur, and other Āchāryas in the Rūpānuga sampradāya.\n\nI encourage readers to approach this book with a faithful heart and prayerful mood. As terminology, concepts, and moods are being presented in the text, I request readers to move through the text with confidence that any term or concept that is not immediately explained will be addressed later on. Furthermore, I enthusiastically entreat readers to seek out the association of Śrīla Govinda Mahārāj's disciples, wherein clarification regarding his teachings can be gained.\n\nAs I introduce Revealed Truth I feel compelled to honour the devotees who helped with this project. It is not possible to mention all the devotees who contributed in various ways, so I pray that everyone with whom I had the fortune to collaborate with on this project will consider that here and now I am expressing my heart's appreciation for their assistance. I must mention, however, the late Śrīpād Bhakti Premik Siddhāntī Mahārāj, who left the world just prior to the completion of this work. It was my hope to bring joy to his heart by completing Revealed Truth during his last days, as it was Śrīpād Siddhāntī Mahārāj who requested me to compile this book, enthusiastically supported its conceptual structure, and supplied me with a portion of its material.\n\nIn closing I wish to state my objective that this book serve as an enlightening source of inspiration for everyone to practice pure devotion.\n\nguru-mukha padma vākya chittete kariyā aikya  \nāra nā kariha mane āśā\n\n(Śrī Prema-bhakti-chandrikā: 1.2)\n\n\"Make the teachings from Śrī Gurudev's lotus mouth one with your heart. Do not desire anything else and all of your desires will be fulfilled (ye prasāde pūre sarva āśā).\"\n\nArjuna expresses such earnest attachment for the words of his Guru, Śrī Govinda Himself, in Śrīmad Bhāgavatam:\n\ndeśa-kālārtha-yuktāni hṛt-tāpopaśamāni cha  \nharanti smarataś chittaṁ govindābhihitāni me\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam: 1.15.27)\n\n\"Śrī Govinda's words are imbued with novel import throughout all of time and space, and extinguish the fire of worldly existence—the fire of separation—that burns in my heart. Remembering them captivates my soul.\"\n\nBy reading Revealed Truth with attachment for our beloved Śrīla Govinda Mahārāj like that of Arjuna for Śrī Govinda, sincere souls will be able to extract the maximum from the discourses compiled herein and feel the wave of revelation flowing from Śrīla Gurudev's heart into theirs.\n\nŚrī Gaura-jana-kiṅkar,\n\nKamal Kṛṣṇa Dās\n\n8 March 2010\n\nKolkata, India\n\nDaśa-Mūla-Tattva\n\nThe Ten Fundamental Principles\n\nāmnāyaḥ prāha tattvaṁ harim iha paramaṁ sarva-śaktim rasābdhiṁ  \ntad-bhinnāṁsāṁś cha jīvān prakṛti-kavalitān tad-vimuktāṁś cha bhāvāt  \nbhedābheda-prakāśaṁ sakalam api hareḥ sādhanaṁ śuddha-bhaktiṁ  \nsādhyaṁ tat-prītim evety upadiśati janān gaurachandraḥ svayaṁ saḥ\n\n(Daśa-mūla-tattva-niryāsa)\n\niha–In this world; āmnāyaḥ–knowledge revealed through Guru-paramparā; prāha–states; tattvam–the Truth; harim paramam–Śrī Hari is supreme; sarva-śaktim–He is possesses all potencies; rasābdhim–He is an ocean of rasa. jīvān cha–Also, the souls; tad bhinnāṁśān–are His separated parts. prakṛti-kavalitān–They are covered by māyā; tad vimuktān cha–or liberated from māyā; bhāvāt–by desire. sakalam api–Yet everything—the entire spiritual and material creation; bhedābheda-prakaśam–is a different and nondifferent manifestation; hareḥ–of Śrī Hari. śuddha-bhaktim–Pure devotion; sādhanam–is the means; tat prītim–love for Śrī Hari; eva sādhyam–is the only goal. iti–This; saḥ–He; gaurachandraḥ–Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu; svayam–Himself; upadiśati–teaches; janān–the souls.\n\n\"Śrī Gaurachandra personally teaches the souls that (1) revealed knowledge establishes the Truth: (2) Hari is supreme, (3) He is omnipotent, (4) He is an ocean of rasa, (5) the souls are His separated parts, (6) they are either covered by material energy, (7) or liberated from material energy by devotion, (8) everything is a manifestation distinct and non-distinct from Hari, (9) pure devotion is the way, and (10) love for Hari is the goal.\"\n\nŚrīla Bhakti Sundar Govinda Dev-Goswāmī Mahārāj:\n\n\"Within this one verse, which conveys the gist of the Daśa-mūla-tattva, Śrīla Bhakti Vinod Ṭhākur has given us everything. He has given us the whole conception of Mahāprabhu Śrī Chaitanyadev and Kṛṣṇa consciousness. If you can read and memorise this verse, then everything will be within you: the full conception of Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu, Śrīla Bhakti Siddhānta Saraswatī Ṭhākur, Śrīla Guru Mahārāj, Śrīla Bhakti Rakṣak Śrīdhar Dev-Goswāmī Mahārāj, and Śrī Chaitanya Sāraswat Maṭh. Everything, the gist of all revealed knowledge (āmnāya), is within this one verse.\n\n\"But don't try to understand this verse by yourself. Hear it from an expert. Everywhere throughout all the scriptures this advice is given: 'You must hear from an expert.' So hear this verse from an expert who knows its meaning. If you hear from him with full faith, you will understand properly what is what, and you will get everything.\"\nSection One   \nRevelation\n\nDaśa-mūla-tattva\n\nTruth One:\n\nāmnāyaḥ prāha tattvaṁ\n\nRevealed knowledge establishes the Truth.\nChapter One   \nĀmnāya\n\nĀmnāya means knowledge that has descended from the transcendental world into this material world for the benefit of all souls. You can call that knowledge 'spiritual' or 'transcendental' or 'divine'. The main idea is that it has descended from above; it has not been formed by anything of this world. We can understand everything about who we are (sambandha), what the goal of our life should be (prayojan), and how we can attain that (abhidheya) through āmnāya.\n\nHow āmnāya, revealed knowledge, exists in this world can be understood through the example of the Ganges River. Previously the civilisation of India was called the Gaṅgā-sabhyatā, \"The civilisation of the Ganges\". Everyone throughout India has respect for the Ganges and has faith that Mother Ganges comes down to this world from the lotus feet of the Lord in the transcendental world. As the Ganges comes down through the heavens, Lord Śiva takes her on his head, breaks her force, and then allows her to flow gently over the surface of the earth. Everyone understands that the Ganges descends from the Lord's abode in this way and then flows down from the Himalayas across India to the ocean in the Bay of Bengal, or the Ganga Sagar, as it is known in India. As the Ganges flows across India many dirty things can be found within her waters, but everyone understands that the Ganges never loses her transcendental nature even when she appears dirty materially. Ganges water is understood to come down from the Lord's lotus feet and to always be fully transcendental. People understand that no matter how dirty her water may appear, the Ganges' waters spiritual nature is never polluted or removed by anything material. So even though the Ganges appears to be polluted, everyone understands that Ganges water is always spiritually purifying and that even the auspicious breeze blowing off the Ganges brings a spiritual mood of devotion to the conditioned souls of this world.\n\nSubtle transmission\n\nThrough this example of the Ganges we can understand that when āmnāya descends into this realm it will never lose its transcendental nature, even though it may mix with our material minds, language, and experience. Still, our intelligence cannot conceive of how the Ganges descends from the transcendental realm or how revealed truth appears in this world. To adjust this we can consider that now in the scientific age so many things exist around us that no one could have conceived of in the past. Only now can we conceive that a signal can be broadcast through the ether, picked up by a receiver, and then played on a television or radio in a distant place. Now in the scientific age we understand that transmission can happen through subtle means. We can learn from the work of the scientists that it is not unreasonable to try to connect with the higher transcendental world just because the medium for our connection with the transcendental plane is not physical. The scientists have shown everyone that clear communication is possible through subtle means. So we only need to discover the proper channel of revelation and how we can make ourselves a proper receiver capable of receiving transmission from the transcendental realm. Then everything will be revealed to us.\n\nMaking ourselves proper receivers begins with faith and prayer. When a house is built it is wired so that electricity is available throughout the house. Without electricity a house is dark at night. But when electricity powers the lights within a house, everything can be seen—what is inside the house and what is outside the house. By ourselves, with only our mundane faculties, we are in darkness and cannot imagine the light of divine life. But if we open our hearts and desire that new light appear there, if we pray that our hearts may be clean enough to receive transcendental knowledge, then happily that knowledge will appear within us. As wires carry electricity, so our hearts have the capacity to receive transmissions from the transcendental realm. Faith and prayer from our heart can bring us new life and light from the transcendental world.\n\nRevelation of the Infinite\n\nOur Guru Mahārāj, Śrīla Bhakti Rakṣak Śrīdhar Dev-Goswāmī Mahārāj, once visited a group called the Arya Samaj in West India. A man from this group challenged him, \"You say that Kṛṣṇa is infinite, but you also say you can understand Kṛṣṇa and you have knowledge of Kṛṣṇa. You are finite. So how can Kṛṣṇa be infinite? If the finite can know the infinite, then how can it be infinite?\" Śrīla Guru Mahārāj quickly responded, \"You are right. It is not possible for the finite to know the infinite by its own power. But if Kṛṣṇa cannot make Himself known to the finite, then He is not infinite. The Infinite must also be able to reveal Himself to the finite, otherwise He is not infinite.\" That man could not argue with this and was very happily defeated by Śrīla Guru Mahārāj. There is no question whether Kṛṣṇa can reveal Himself to us.\n\nThe Lord is not powerless. He has the capacity to reveal Himself, and He is merciful. By His mercy Kṛṣṇa descends to this world to fulfil our prayers in so many different forms. Sometimes He Himself comes with His full transcendental paraphernalia, sometimes He sends His Avatārs, and sometimes He sends divinely empowered souls. In all these forms He descends to this world to bestow His affection and divine connection upon the fortunate jīva-souls.\n\nEnlightening power\n\nWhen transcendental knowledge appears in our hearts by the will of Lord Kṛṣṇa, we will develop the capacity to understand our eternal relationship with Him. Śrīla Bhakti Siddhānta Saraswatī Ṭhākur said, \"Seeing a light bulb shining indicates it is connected to a power source.\" When we will see and understand things clearly in our heart we will know we are connected with a source of divine power. It is only necessary for us to give that divine light clear entrance and a clean position in our heart. We are not in control of the flow of revelation, but if we are faithful, submissive, and surrendered, then we can attract revelation's flow and feel its presence in our hearts. And when the descending flow of transcendental knowledge wants to reveal itself in our hearts it must reveal itself; we will not be able to check it actually.\n\nStill, from our present position, we are not able to understand everything.\n\nnāyam ātmā pravachanena labhyo  \nna medhayā na bahunā śrutena  \nyam evaiṣa vṛṇute tena labhyas  \ntasyaiṣa ātmā vivṛṇute tanuṁ svām\n\n(Kaṭha-upaniṣad: 1.2.23)\n\nOur ordinary mental power, intelligence, and learning do not give us entrance into transcendental reality. Only when the Lord reveals Himself in our hearts can we understand Him. This means we can come to know Him only by surrendering to His enlightening power. And whenever we feel the presence of that type of perfect light-connection in our life we must be happy and think that we are proceeding rightly towards our transcendental destiny. As that happens we will begin to understand everything. But until that happens we can't really understand anything. So, once we have adjusted ourselves to be faithful receivers of the Lord's revelation, we need to connect with Him through the proper channel in which His enlightening power flows. Once we have prepared ourselves we must try to connect with the Lord and His āmnāya through the proper channel. Then everything will be revealed in our hearts. It is sure that through the proper connection with the proper channel, āmnāya will appear in our hearts. We only need to proceed in our spiritual life with faith, with chastity and sincerity, with love and affection, and try to receive transcendental knowledge through the proper channel.\n\nVedic culture\n\nThe proper channel means a connection with a Vedic source. It means Vedic culture, Vedic scriptures, and Vedic saints. Vedic culture means āmnāya-paramparā, the descending flow of transcendental knowledge through heart-to-heart transmission. Through the channel of āmnāya-paramparā transcendental knowledge descends from above and flows through this world like the Ganges River. Sometimes people think Vedic culture started when Vedic scriptures were written but this is not the truth. Actually, Vedic culture manifested during the creation of the universe.\n\nAt the beginning of creation, Brahmā, the first created being within the universe, awoke and found that everything was dark. He could not see anything. Eventually he heard a sound, \"Tapa!\" In this form of divya-saraswatī, transcendental sound vibration, the Supreme Personality of Godhead Kṛṣṇa initiated Brahmā. Kṛṣṇa Himself acted as the first Guru of everyone in this mundane world by giving consciousness of Himself to Brahmā, the creator. Tapa means 'meditate'. Brahmā meditated and Lord Kṛṣṇa appeared in his heart. After this Brahmā could see and also understand what his work was to be. Then he began creating everything within the universe. Later Brahmā gave the consciousness he received from Kṛṣṇa to Nārad Ṛṣi, and Nārad Ṛṣi gave it to Vedavyās. Vedavyās then distributed that transcendental knowledge to everyone. In this way transcendental knowledge came down into this world at the very beginning of creation and then began to spread from heart to heart.\n\nTranscendental research\n\nThis process of revelation is called Guru-paramparā, or āmnāya-paramparā, and it is the proper channel to approach the Lord. By hearing from a higher source, from a qualified Guru, serving him, and meditating on his instructions, transcendental knowledge is revealed to a sincere seeker. This is the meaning of 'proper channel' and this was the process in the previous ages of the Vedic culture.\n\nThere was no writing or scripture involved originally: only hearing, serving, and learning from Śrī Gurudev. Someone who could receive transcendental knowledge in this way and also reveal new light about the transcendental world to others was known as a ṛṣi. Śrīla Guru Mahārāj explained that ṛṣi means a 'research scholar'. This is a very nice expression. It means that someone will only become well-known as a ṛṣi if they have great research capacity, if they are able to reveal new light from the transcendental world that is essential for everyone's spiritual and material lives.\n\nVedic scripture\n\nThe discoveries of the great ṛṣis who received light from the transcendental world were later organised and compiled into scriptures by Vedavyās. Vyās, or Vedavyās, is a title which means Veda-vistāra-kārī, one who spreads Veda by putting it into suitable written form. Veda means the consciousness given by āmnāya, revealed knowledge that is essential in the lives of everyone. A Vedavyās is actually a Śaktyāveś-avatār, an incarnation of the Lord in the form of an empowered jīva-soul who has the capacity to spread āmnāya.\n\nHinduism, Vedic culture, and Indian culture come from the rulings of Vedavyās. All religious groups within India, mostly Hindu groups, still follow Vedavyās' teachings and the Manu-saṁhitā, the laws of mankind. Kṛṣṇa Dvaipāyan was the name of the ṛṣi who performed the service of compiling the scriptures in the recent age and became known as Vedavyās.\n\nThe discoveries of the ṛṣis were very broad. The ṛṣis understood everything about all aspects of life, both material and spiritual. Kṛṣṇa Dvaipāyan Vedavyās collected all of their research and mixed it with material examples so that the conditioned souls could understand it. Then he divided and presented their research in different scriptures to be taught to students within the schools of Vedic culture. In this way he composed the four Vedas—the Ṛg-veda, Sāma-veda, Yajur-veda, and Atharva-veda—the Āyurveda scripture, and the fifth Veda, the Mahābhārata.\n\nThese scriptures are so vast; they are huge books. The Mahābhārata alone has over one hundred thousand verses in it. We have heard that there is also another part of the Mahābhārata found only in heaven that has even more verses. But even within the one hundred thousand verses of our Mahābhārata here, there are so many stories; we cannot even conceive how many stories. They are all very sweet, hopeful stories, but sometimes they are mixed with some alloy, some themes which are not purely devotional. Still, they are all related to religion and always give us remembrance of the fundamental questions of life: \"Who are you? Why are you suffering in the illusory environment? What is the cause of everything?\" All the scriptures are always giving us this consciousness. Questions about who we are and what the goal of our life should be are the fundamental basis of all religious thought.\n\nScriptural gist\n\nThe Mahābhārata presents everything to us, but, along with the other Vedas, it is so vast. We could not finish reading all of the Vedic scriptures even within an entire lifetime. Also, the knowledge given in the Vedas is widely differentiated; there are sections that describe all the different aspects of life. If we try to learn everything just by reading the Vedas ourselves, we become lost in a jungle of knowledge. Considering that this would happen, Vedavyās felt his work was not sufficient. He then composed the one hundred and eight Upaniṣads.\n\nThe Vedas are very big. The Upaniṣads are much shorter. They present all the ideals found in the Vedas in a much shorter form. But the Upaniṣads are still so many, so Vedavyās finally composed the Vedānta-darśana.\n\nWithin the Vedānta-darśana is present the gist of all revealed knowledge and all the previous scriptures. When Vedavyās wanted to give the substance of the whole of Vedic literature in a very short way, he presented the Vedānta-darśana. Within the Vedānta-darśana there are only very short sūtras, codes, but there is so much light and so much knowledge within each and every one of them.\n\nClarifying the essence\n\nVedavyās wanted to present everything in the sūtras of his Vedānta-darśana. He did this, but the sūtras contain so much condensed knowledge that they are very difficult to properly understand. Only a very highly qualified person can properly understand the condensed knowledge of the Vedānta-darśana. General persons are not able to understand it. We have seen that now there are also many wrong interpretations of the Vedānta-darśana being presented that were not intended by Vedavyās. These wrong interpretations create confusion and many mistaken theories which lead towards māyāvād, illusionism, and nāstikavād, atheism.\n\nVedavyās wanted that everyone would understand the gist of the Vedas through his writings, especially the Vedānta-darśana, and when he saw that this was not happening, he felt unsatisfied. He thought, \"I have given so much knowledge to rescue the conditioned souls. I have given so many things for their benefit. Why am I not feeling peace in my heart? Why am I not fully satisfied? Why is my work unsatisfactory? I cannot understand.\"\n\nAs Vedavyās was thinking in this way his Gurudev, Nārad Goswāmī, came to visit him by the will of Lord Kṛṣṇa. Vedavyās was very happy to see Nārad Goswāmī. He received him and worshipped him. Then Vedavyās asked him, \"Prabhu, why am I unhappy? You know everything, and you can understand why I am unhappy. Please explain this to me.\" Nārad Goswāmī said, \"Yes, I can explain everything; it is for this purpose that I have come to visit you.\"\n\nThen Nārad Goswāmī chastised Vedavyās: \"What you have given the conditioned souls is actually not sufficient.\n\njugupsitaṁ dharma-kṛte 'nuśāsataḥ  \nsvabhāva-raktasya mahān vyatikramaḥ  \nyad-vākyato dharma itītaraḥ sthito  \nna manyate tasya nivāraṇaṁ janaḥ\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam: 1.5.15)\n\n\"Jugupsitaṁ dharma-kṛte 'nuśāsataḥ: you have explained religion in khichuri form; everything is mixed together. That is tasteful to the conditioned souls, and they will no doubt enjoy with that. But you have left a puzzle for anyone who wants to transcend this mundane world. They will be frustrated when they try to find the clear path to the spiritual world. The conditioned souls are always active, and they need to know which path is best for them to follow and what their destination should be. Should they follow the path of karma-yoga, the path of action? Jñāna-yoga, the path of knowledge? Aṣṭāṅga-yoga, the path of meditation? Karma-miśra-bhakti, the path of devotion mixed with action? Jñāna-miśrā-bhakti, the path of devotion mixed with knowledge? This has not been clearly explained.\n\n\"What should be their ideal conception? Brahma conception, the conception of the nondifferentiated Absolute? Paramātmā conception, the conception of the Supreme Soul? Bhāgavat conception, the conception of the Supreme Personality of Godhead? You have not explained these things clearly, and you have not explained what is Supreme. It is necessary for you to clarify this to complete your work and truly benefit the conditioned souls.\n\n\"The conditioned souls can't conceive that their greatest benefit will come to them through service and dedication to the Lord. They only understand exploitation. When they see the bad reactions they receive in the plane of exploitation they seek relief in the plane of renunciation. But there they lose everything; the jīva-souls cannot find the fulfilment of their existence in impersonal liberation. Only in the plane of dedication and service to the Lord is everything existing beautifully in harmony with the jīva-souls' true nature. You have not explained this to the conditioned souls.\"\n\nReligion for the enlightened\n\nNārad Goswāmī continued, \"You have already given medicine for rogīs, sick men, in the Vedas, Upaniṣads, and so on, but you have not explained what is nourishing to strong and healthy men. Your duty is to provide nourishment for everyone. You have given the medicine needed to release the conditioned souls from their suffering. You have given them the clue to find relief. But you have not given any nourishment to the healthy persons, liberated souls, who know they are transcendental, have goodwill, and want further nourishment. You are the supreme authority on religion; no one can change, or argue with, your conclusions. But what you have done is wrong and you must correct it.\n\n\"You have said, 'Raso vai Saḥ: the Supreme is rasa.' That is very good. But what is that rasa actually? There are so many forms of ecstasy. What is the supreme form of ecstasy? If a jīva-soul enters the emporium of ecstasy, how will he know what he wants and what is best for him? You have not clearly given that knowledge to the jīva-souls. So what have you actually distributed?\n\n\"You began the Vedānta-darśana with, 'Athāto Brahma jijñāsā: now search for the Supreme.' But who will understand that this actually means, 'Search for Śrī Kṛṣṇa—Reality the Beautiful'? Who will understand that Śrī Kṛṣṇa's divine form coupled with Rādhārāṇī is the emporium of all ecstasy (raso vai Saḥ)?\"\n\nThe divine play in seed form\n\nIn this way, according to the conception of Śrīla Guru Mahārāj, Nārad Goswāmī chastised Vedavyās. Then Vedavyās folded his palms and asked Nārad Goswāmī, \"Prabhu, what should I do now?\n\nNārad Goswāmī said, \"Try to give Kṛṣṇa consciousness to the jīva-souls by describing and distributing Kṛṣṇa-līlā, the divine Pastimes of Śrī Kṛṣṇa. Kṛṣṇa-līlā is not only the property of the mundane world; it is the property of Goloka Vṛndāvan, the highest realm of the spiritual world. I will give you in four short notes the seed form of that divine play, the gist form of that knowledge. You are qualified; you have the capacity to meditate. Plant these seeds in your heart and meditate, and they will reveal their full form to you. With proper vision you will see everything cleanly and clearly. Then you can express that through your writing and distribute it all over the world. You will be fully satisfied and happy with that.\"\n\nNārad Goswāmī properly and authentically gave the Bhāgavat-chatuḥ-ślokī mantram to Vedavyās, that is, transcendental light and knowledge of ananya-bhakti, exclusive devotion. Vedavyās meditated and saw Lord Kṛṣṇa Himself in his heart along with all of His potencies. Then, with inspiration from the chatuḥ-ślokī mantram, plus the twelve verses of chastisement from Nārad Goswāmī, and the idea to write a commentary on his Vedānta-darśana, Vedavyās composed his final work, his supreme scripture—Śrīmad Bhāgavatam.\n\nThe supreme conclusion\n\nWithin Śrīmad Bhāgavatam four sittings are described in which the Bhāgavat's message—the message which Nārad Goswāmī received from Brahmā and Brahmā received from Kṛṣṇa Himself at the beginning of creation—was transmitted. The first sitting was the meeting of Nārad Goswāmī and Vedavyās. The next sitting was the meeting of Vedavyās and his son Śukadev Goswāmī. The third sitting happened at Sukratala, where Śukadev Goswāmī spoke to Mahārāj Parīkṣit. The fourth sitting happened at Naimiṣāraṇya, where a disciple of Śukadev Goswāmī, Sūta Goswāmī, spoke to 60,000 ṛṣis who were assembled for a fire sacrifice. After these four sittings Vedavyās collected everything that was expressed, gradually composed Śrīmad Bhāgavatam, and then gave it to the world.\n\nIn this way Vedavyās wrote his own commentary on the Vedānta-darśana and clearly explained everything about revealed knowledge for everyone. With full satisfaction in his heart he presented his introduction to Śrīmad Bhāgavatam in a simple way: \"This Śrīmad Bhāgavatam is my last will and testament. It contains the highest knowledge—pure Kṛṣṇa consciousness—and any jīva-soul who can follow its directives will attain the supreme goal of life. They will attain a liberated position, get entrance into the transcendental service world, and happily play with the Supreme Personality of Godhead Kṛṣṇa in full love, affection, and ecstasy.\"\n\nVedavyās also concluded Śrīmad Bhāgavatam with full satisfaction:\n\nsarva-vedānta-sāraṁ hi śrīmad-bhāgavatam iṣyate  \ntad-rasāmṛta-tṛptasya nānyatra syād ratiḥ kvachit\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam: 12.13.15)\n\n\"Śrīmad Bhāgavatam contains the gist of all the Vedas, the Vedānta-darśana, and the Upaniṣads. Anyone who once reads Śrīmad Bhāgavatam will never become attracted to any other scripture; one will only continue without interruption to drink the transcendental nectar of Śrīmad Bhāgavatam.\"\n\nśrīmad-bhāgavataṁ purāṇam amalaṁ yad vaiṣṇavānāṁ priyaṁ\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam: 12.13.18)\n\n\"There was something wrong with what I presented previously, but here in Śrīmad Bhāgavatam there is nothing wrong; everything is clean and clear. Śrīmad Bhāgavatam is purāṇam amalam, the spotless Purāṇa, and, yad Vaiṣṇavānāṁ priyam, all the Vaiṣṇavas have accepted it very dearly within their hearts.\"\n\nIn this way we can understand,\n\nartho 'yaṁ brahma-sūtrāṇāṁ bhāratārtha-vinirṇayaḥ  \ngāyatrī-bhāṣya-rūpo 'sau vedārtha-paribṛṁhitaḥ\n\n(Garuḍa-purāṇa)\n\n\"Śrīmad Bhāgavatam presents full knowledge of the sūtras of the Vedānta-darśana. It is the natural commentary on the Vedānta-darśana, the Mahābhārata, and the gāyatrī-mantram; all knowledge, everything, is presented in Śrīmad Bhāgavatam.\"\n\nIf you can follow the conception of Śrīmad Bhāgavatam you will understand the gist of all revealed truth, all āmnāya.\nChapter Two   \nHeart-to-Heart Transmission\n\nQuestion: We hear that all truth is present in the scriptures, specifically Śrīmad Bhāgavatam, but how do we know when we are supposed to take the expressions in the scriptures literally or figuratively? How do we understand what the scriptures are really trying to say?\n\nŚrīla Govinda Mahārāj: How will we understand anything about the scriptures? We must first enter into a school. When we are admitted into a school we are given appropriate lessons for our level by our teacher. When I am studying in a school I pass through class one to class two, then to class three, and so on. In each class what I am taught is not exactly the same. Each higher class does not present everything in the same way as the previous classes do. But whatever I learn in each class is appropriate and beneficial for me at my level.\n\nThe Vedas, Vedānta, Upaniṣads, Śrīmad Bhāgavatam, and other scripture are an ocean, and they contain so many verses which have many different meanings. Ultimately, they are all guiding us towards the same goal—Kṛṣṇa-bhakti—but we are not always able to understand that. Sometimes it is very difficult to see that actually. Many different practising processes are explained in the various scriptures: karma-yoga, jñāna-yoga, aṣṭāṅga-yoga, bhakti-yoga, and others. If we want to understand the real advice of all the scriptures, if we want to understand where the scriptures' knowledge is trying to take our consciousness, then it is first necessary to faithfully study the scriptural lessons that are appropriate for us in a school, under the guidance of a proper teacher. That is the best process.\n\nWe must be very conscious about reading the scriptures. The scriptures are not the easiest thing to understand. Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā explains how a student should approach a teacher to learn spiritual knowledge:\n\ntad viddhi praṇipātena paripraśnena sevayā  \nupadekṣyanti te jñānaṁ jñāninas tattva-darśinaḥ\n\n(Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā: 4.34)\n\nHere it is explained that a student must be a little qualified to approach a teacher. Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā says, \"First be surrendered, then enquire and serve. Your Guru will want to hear your questions and bestow his mercy upon you if you are really surrendered to him, you are humble, and you have real hankering.\" First approach Gurudev through surrender; then serve him. Surrender alone is not sufficient. Surrendered service to Gurudev is the main thing that will give the sincere seeker the proper result in his search for transcendental knowledge. Someone may acquire general knowledge in other ways, but without praṇipāt, surrender; paripraśna, sincere enquiry; and sevā, service, transcendental knowledge will not reveal itself in the heart.\n\nWhen a student is a little qualified in this way and finds a Guru who is a qualified teacher, the student must surrender to him, ask him questions, and serve him. Everything will be revealed in the heart of the qualified sincere seeker by the qualified Guru when the disciple is enriched with these three qualities of surrender, enquiry and service—enriched with a mood of devotion. When that mood is present, everything will be set right: the Guru's heart will be melted by that student's sincere approach, and the Guru will be ready to teach the student. By this process the student will understand, through the melted heart of his Guru, the essence of all the scriptures—everything that is to be found within the Vedas, Vedānta, Upaniṣads, Śrīmad Bhāgavatam, and the other scriptures. This is how we should try to learn the scriptures.\n\nSpiritual experts\n\nWe can see that the scriptures themselves always advise us about the position and necessity of the proper teacher, the sādhu. In Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta, Śrīla Kṛṣṇadās Kavirāj Goswāmī advises us:\n\nyāha, bhāgavata paḍa vaiṣṇavera sthāne\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Antya-līlā, 5.131)\n\n\"Go to the Vaiṣṇava, the devotee, and hear from him the meaning of Śrīmad Bhāgavatam; only read Śrīmad Bhāgavatam in the association of the Vaiṣṇavas.\"\n\nWithout the Vaiṣṇava we cannot understand the meaning of Śrīmad Bhāgavatam, and we will undoubtedly proceed in the wrong direction. It is necessary to hear the explanation of Śrīmad Bhāgavatam, or any scripture, from some expert. Only when we hear from an expert can we understand the real meaning of Śrīmad Bhāgavatam. Our knowledge is very limited. Nobody can say, \"I am full with all knowledge.\" Even Śrīla Guru Mahārāj told us, \"I am a student. You consider yourselves masters? I consider myself to be a student, and all of you to be students. Nobody is a master.\"\n\nIt was Śrīla Guru Mahārāj's conception that we are all students. Therefore we must try to understand what our lessons are from a proper teacher. Through one who understands the essence of the lessons we are to learn, we can easily understand what our lessons are. It is very difficult to understand otherwise. We may make wrong interpretations, not understanding the real meaning of the scriptures, and we may be deceived. It is necessary to hear the meaning of Śrīmad Bhāgavatam from a proper interpreter and servitor of Kṛṣṇa like Śrīla Guru Mahārāj.\n\nŚrīmad Bhāgavatam itself has given two formulas for understanding Śrīmad Bhāgavatam. One prescribes reading Śrīmad Bhāgavatam, and the other prohibits reading Śrīmad Bhāgavatam. If someone suddenly opens Śrīmad Bhāgavatam and follows what comes in front of them, then they will proceed in the wrong way. It is necessary to harmonise the whole of Śrīmad Bhāgavatam's conception. And who can harmonise it? Only one who knows the fundamental basis and full meaning of Śrīmad Bhāgavatam.\n\nThere are so many things written in the scriptures, and they are no doubt very good things. But because we have limited knowledge we can also easily misunderstand the words of the scriptures. We must discuss the scriptures with a sādhu to clarify that we are understanding the scriptures properly.\n\nsatāṁ prasaṅgān mama vīrya-saṁvido  \nbhavanti hṛt-karṇa-rasāyanāḥ kathāḥ  \ntaj-joṣaṇād āśv apavarga-vartmani  \nśraddhā ratir bhaktir anukramiṣyati\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam: 3.25.25)\n\nThe Lord Himself explains in Śrīmad Bhāgavatam: \"Discussions about Me heard in the association of My pure devotees nourish your ears and hearts; they fill your souls with ecstasy. Only when someone proceeds in their spiritual life under the guidance of My devotees will they naturally develop proper faith, attachment, and devotion.\"\n\nWhat is written in books and what is heard directly from the sādhu are two completely different things! What we may read or hear outside the association of the sādhu is not hṛt-karṇa-rasāyanāḥ kathāḥ: nectarean words which nourish our hearts and fill us with ecstasy. Only when we hear from the sādhu are we receiving something in the proper channel, receiving something descending down from Goloka Vṛndāvan through the hearts of our paramparā's Gurus which is perfect and necessary for our spiritual life. Only when we hear in the proper channel from the sādhu is there a transmission of the power which reveals the essence of the scriptures' words in our hearts. We are given real entrance into what we hear in the scriptures by the sādhu.\n\nFollowing the great souls\n\nYudhiṣṭhir Mahārāj was a wise man. He was very qualified and had studied so many scriptures: the Vedas, Vedānta, Upaniṣads, and so on. He also received much advice from various ṛṣis and munis. But after studying so many things he was puzzled and could not find a settled position. \"Everything is good; everything is bad. It is good; it is bad. It is good; it is bad. It is good; it is bad.\" Yudhiṣṭhir Mahārāj could not conclude what was the proper way to get relief from the illusory environment and become established in a clean position. Lastly he could only conclude that anyone who tries to discover what religion is simply by reading the scriptures will become crazy.\n\ntarko 'pratiṣṭhaḥ śrutayo vibhinnā  \nnāsāv ṛṣir yasya mataṁ na bhinnam  \ndharmasya tattvaṁ nihitaṁ guhāyāṁ  \nmahājano yena gataḥ sa panthāḥ\n\n(Mahābhārata: Vana-parva, 313.117)\n\nYudhiṣṭhir Mahārāj said, \"We cannot take the advice of the Vedas directly. Our store of knowledge is very limited, and the knowledge given in the Vedas is very vast. The Vedas explain pratyakṣa-jñān [sensory knowledge], parokṣa-jñān [collective knowledge], aparokṣa-jñān [subtle knowledge], and adhokṣaja-jñān [transcendental knowledge]. Also, the ṛṣis who describe Vedic knowledge present many different interpretations of it and are not always perfect. Parāśar Ṛṣi presented one conception; Vaśiṣṭha Ṛṣi presented another; Chyavan Ṛṣi presented another; and so on. There are so many ṛṣis, and they presented many different conceptions. Thus the jīva-souls become confused; they do not find the truth with only the scriptures, the differing opinions of the ṛṣis, and their own minds. To find the proper conception we must follow the path of the Mahājans, the great souls, in whose hearts the truth is living.\"\n\nsvayambhūr nāradaḥ śambhuḥ kumāraḥ kapilo manuḥ  \nprahlādo janako bhīṣmo balir vaiyāsakir vayam\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam: 6.3.20)\n\nIn Śrīmad Bhāgavatam Vedavyās indicated that Brahmā, Nārad Ṛṣi, Śiva, the four kumāras—Sanaka, Sanātan, Sananda, and Sanat, Kapiladev, Manu, Prahlād Mahārāj, Janaka Rāja, Bhīṣmadev, Bali Mahārāj, Śukadev Goswāmī, and Yamarāj are all Mahājans. These particular twelve Mahājans are described throughout the scriptures and are so glorious. Their primary qualification is that they are devotees of the Lord. Actually, all great devotees of the Lord should be considered Mahājans.\n\nOnce many of these twelve Mahājans who are listed in Śrīmad Bhāgavatam were discussing a verse from Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā about the position of the Lord's devotees, but they could not come to a proper conclusion about it.\n\nIn the meantime they saw Śrīla Bhakti Vinod Ṭhākur going by, and they called him over: \"O Vaiṣṇava Ṭhākur! You know the proper meaning of this verse. Please come and join us.\" Then Bhakti Vinod Ṭhākur explained the verse to them, and they were very happy.\n\nDevotees like Śrīla Bhakti Vinod Ṭhākur are the greatest Mahājans, and anyone who follows their guidance will be supremely benefitted.\n\nlābhas teṣāṁ jayas teṣāṁ kutas teṣāṁ parābhavaḥ  \nyeṣām-īndīvara-śyāmo hṛdaya-stho janārdanaḥ\n\n(Pāṇḍava-gītā)\n\n\"Bhagavān Śrī Kṛṣṇa is living in an effulgent way within the hearts of His dear devotees, and His Pastimes are always going on there very gloriously. Such devotees are truly great souls, Mahājans, and are always happy and successful.\"\n\nAll directions should lead us toward Lord Kṛṣṇa and the real Mahājans, Lord Kṛṣṇa's pure devotees. We must follow a proper devotee whose activity is top to bottom dedicated to Lord Kṛṣṇa's service. His practice and lifestyle will be the perfect example of religious life for us, and his guidance will give us the proper understanding of the scriptures. Discussing the scriptures with qualified Vaiṣṇavas—pure devotees, sādhus—is always the best thing for practitioners. Practitioners know something, no doubt, but they do not know everything. When they discuss scriptural matters, with love and affection, with a qualified sādhu, then they must be benefitted by that—realisation of the proper meaning, feeling, and everything, will come to them.\n\nReligion of the heart\n\nWhen Kṛṣṇa wants to reveal transcendental knowledge in your heart through His devotee, it must be revealed. Even you won't be able to check it. So we need connection with Kṛṣṇa's devotees. Thus the actual question is: how can we recognise a genuine devotee, a true religious person? To whom does Kṛṣṇa reveal Himself?\n\nThe first verse to explain this, which explains the theme of our book Religion of the Heart, must be:\n\nvidvadbhiḥ sevitaḥ sadbhir nityam adveṣa-rāgibhiḥ  \nhṛdayenābhyanujñāto yo dharmas taṁ nibhodhata\n\n(Manu-saṁhitā: 2.1)\n\nŚrīla Guru Mahārāj once gave a lecture in the library of Dhanbad before a gathering of many highly qualified paṇḍits and wealthy persons. He started his lecture with this verse. He explained that people think religion is found in books and that those books are written in particular languages, but that religion does not actually come from books or languages: religion is communicated through the transcendental language of heart transaction.\n\nAll religion presented in scriptures is first revealed in the hearts of ṛṣis, munis, and sādhus. After it appears in their hearts it is transmitted forward from heart to heart, and it later may take the form of books. So what can we say about religion? How much can we understand it? It is a matter of the heart. How can we feel the beauty and understand the glory of religion if our hearts are presently as filthy as a dustbin? Because our hearts are impure we must try to understand religion from a clean-hearted sādhu.\n\nQualities of a sādhu\n\nWhat are the qualities of a sādhu? Vidvadbhiḥ sevitaḥ sadbhir: a perfect sādhu cleanly and clearly understands the Vedas, the Vedānta, and the essence of their directives (vidvadbhiḥ). He always serves their purpose (sevitaḥ). He has no deficiency in simplicity, cleanliness, or proper behaviour (sadbhir). He has control of his six senses, and he has regard for everyone. His only sadness is the suffering of others.\n\nVedavyās, the author of all the Vedic scriptures, was a true sādhu. He saw so many other sādhus and was also praised by so many sādhus. He knew everything about revealed knowledge. But more so than knowledge and even behaviour, what did he say was the best quality of a sādhu? Nirmatsarāṇāṁ satām (SB: 1.1.2): the sādhu's heart is completely clean and clear; there is not even a tiny dirty thing within it. This means that the sādhu is never envious of others (nityam adveṣa-rāgibhiḥ). He has no enviousness or anger and holds full love and affection within his heart for everyone. A sādhu with these qualities who is fully attached to Kṛṣṇa consciousness is a real Mahājan, a real leader of humanity, and is always rightly engaged in religious service.\n\nkṛṣṇa-bhakta—niṣkāma, ataeva 'śānta'  \nbhukti-mukti-siddhi-kāmī—sakali 'aśānta'\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Madhya-līlā, 19.149)\n\nOne who is interested in the mundane—selfish enjoyment, liberation, or supernatural power—is not a sādhu. One who has no desire for selfish enjoyment, who wants to give rather than take, who is always engaged twenty-four hours a day in serving the desires of the divine Lord, he is a sādhu. He alone is a truly peaceful, perfect gentleman. Real religion is the beauty that appears within the heart of such a sādhu, the transcendental feeling revealed in such a sādhu's heart through his life of service. Whatever advice and instruction such a sādhu expresses is true religious instruction and can never be harmful to anyone. If we will receive a heart transmission from that type of sādhu and follow his guidance, we must feel the benefit of a truly religious life and come to understand the universal religion of all souls (jaiva-dharma). If anyone will proceed according to the guidance of a pure sādhu, then from that launching pad they will happily fly into the sky of virtue and reach the peak of religion. There is no party spirit or sectarian interest in such pure religion.\n\nUniversal religion\n\nAfter Śrīla Guru Mahārāj's lecture, in which he made many of these points about true religion, one very well-to-do man in the audience spoke: \"In the past we have heard about Vaiṣṇava-dharma, and we considered that Vaiṣṇava-dharma was a branch of Hindu dharma. But I am so satisfied with what I have heard from Śrīla Śrīdhar Mahārāj that I now understand that all religious property is present within Vaiṣṇava-dharma. I now know that Vaiṣṇava-dharma is one; it is the true universal religion, and all other dharmas are subparts of Vaiṣṇava-dharma. I feel now that the universal Vaiṣṇava-dharma is the best thing for all jīva-souls.\"\n\nŚrīla Guru Mahārāj's style was always very broad and perfect. He was always conscious about what he was doing, and he always presented everything according to the scriptures politely with clear logic. Some sannyāsīs and brahmachārīs would present our Param Gurudev's conception, Śrīla Saraswatī Ṭhākur's conception, in a hammering way, but Śrīla Guru Mahārāj was completely different from them. I am fortunate that I have heard many things from Śrīla Guru Mahārāj. I have seen that so many people received divine light from him, and that this light became the light of their life.\n\nThe law of love and affection\n\nMy life in Śrī Chaitanya Sāraswat Maṭh with Śrīla Guru Mahārāj was always very restricted. I would not do anything without the permission of Śrīla Guru Mahārāj. At least I can say for myself that I never did anything that Śrīla Guru Mahārāj did not give me permission to do. When the property of Śrī Chaitanya Sāraswat Maṭh was in a critical position I had to go to Kalna every day for two months to defend the Maṭh in court. Each day I would travel from the Maṭh to the court in Kalna and return home, but I would not go anywhere else along the way.\n\nOne day Śrīla Guru Mahārāj asked me, \"Have you seen the temple of Gaurī Dās Paṇḍit in Kalna?\" I said that I had lived near the temple all my life, but that I had never once seen the temple. Śrīla Guru Mahārāj said, \"Next time you go to Kalna offer your daṇḍavat praṇām to Mahāprabhu and Nityānanda Prabhu there.\" It was only then that I ever visited that temple. Also, I never visited Mahāprabhu's sannyās place in Katwa for twenty-eight years until I received the service-order of Śrīla Guru Mahārāj.\n\nOur life was very restricted under Śrīla Guru Mahārāj, but we actually never felt any restriction. We always felt everything to be the natural love and affection of Śrīla Guru Mahārāj. We felt that our service life was guided by Śrīla Guru Mahārāj and we could simply, and happily follow his orders. That was the natural law of Śrī Chaitanya Sāraswat Maṭh: everyone would follow the rules automatically with love and affection.\n\nIt is always best when people will follow religious rules and regulations naturally with love and affection, with respect and honour. This was the standard we followed in Śrī Chaitanya Sāraswat Maṭh from the beginning, and we never felt the necessity for anything else. In that environment I heard from Śrīla Guru Mahārāj for many years and learned something about the essence of the scriptures, the essence of religion, through him.\nChapter Three   \nThe Lotus Feet of Śrī Gurudev\n\nŚrīla Narottam Dās Ṭhākur has explained perfectly the position of Śrī Gurudev [the spiritual master] in one of his songs.\n\nśrī-guru-charaṇa-padma, kevala bhakati-sadma,  \nvando muñi sāvadhāna mate\n\n(Śrī Prema-bhakti-chandrikā: 1.1)\n\n\"The lotus feet of Gurudev are the one and only abode of pure devotion.\"\n\nWe must always be serious in our practice of spiritual life and serious about the glorification of the lotus feet of Gurudev. We do not actually know properly the position and glory of our Gurudev's lotus feet, so we must always be careful in glorifying Gurudev (vando muñi sāvadhāna mate). We do not want to make any offence to Gurudev when we glorify him because offences to Gurudev are great obstacles in our spiritual life.\n\nLord Kṛṣṇa Himself has explained Gurudev's position to us for our benefit in Śrīmad Bhāgavatam:\n\nāchāryaṁ māṁ vijānīyān nāvamanyeta karhichit\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam: 11.17.27)\n\n\"Carefully remember and consider Gurudev to be Me. Never think he is an ordinary man with a mundane form. As Gurudev, I Myself take on a human form to rescue the conditioned souls and give them a connection with the transcendental abode. You must consider Gurudev to be a nondifferent form of Myself.\"\n\nŚrīla Viśvanāth Chakravartī Ṭhākur also explained in an even more clear way the position of Gurudev:\n\nsākṣād dharitvena samasta-śāstrair  \nuktas tathā bhāvyata eva sadbhiḥ  \nkintu prabhor yaḥ priya eva tasya  \nvande guroḥ śrī-charaṇāravindam\n\n(Śrī Gurvaṣṭakam: 7)\n\n\"It is written in all the scriptures that Bhagavān Himself manifests in a human form in front of me as Gurudev.\"\n\nWhen Gurudev gives initiation, Kṛṣṇa reveals Himself, that is, Gurudev is revealed to be Kṛṣṇa Himself. Kṛṣṇa reveals Himself through the heart of Gurudev in His transcendental sound vibration form, Śrī Hari-nām. Kṛṣṇa descends through the preceptorial line of Gurus (paramparā) into the heart of the disciple through the heart of Gurudev. In that way Gurudev acts as Kṛṣṇa Himself. Still, Gurudev also has his own personal identity as a servitor of the Lord. He never thinks, \"I am Kṛṣṇa\", but always thinks, \"I am the servitor of the servitor of the servitor of Kṛṣṇa\". In this way Gurudev is Kṛṣṇa's dearmost devotee (kintu Prabhor yaḥ priya eva tasya).\n\nGurudev is a servant of Kṛṣṇa, but a disciple must still always consider that Kṛṣṇa is revealing Himself in human form in front of him as Gurudev. The disciple sees Gurudev as a human but knows that Gurudev is not actually human. Gurudev's actual form is transcendental: he is nondifferent from Kṛṣṇa Himself. Because this conception of Gurudev is very important and we must be very careful to never lose faith in Gurudev, Narottam Ṭhākur sang: \"Vando muñi sāvadhāna mate: be careful to not improperly glorify Gurudev in any way.\"\n\nWhen Kṛṣṇa takes form as Gurudev, He is so merciful to the conditioned souls. There is no doubt about that.\n\nyāhāra prasāde bhāi, e bhava tariyā yāi,  \nkṛṣṇa-prāpti haya yāhā haite\n\n(Śrī Prema-bhakti-chandrikā: 1.1)\n\nWhen Gurudev is worshipped as Śrī Kṛṣṇa Himself, and sincere seekers try to understand the service of Kṛṣṇa through Gurudev, Kṛṣṇa is more happy than when He is approached directly. When He is approached through Gurudev, Kṛṣṇa gives much more help to the sincere seekers; He inspires them in their hearts: \"Yes, what you are doing is right. Proceed on.\"\n\nThe vital conception is that Kṛṣṇa distributes Himself and no one else can do that. Only when Kṛṣṇa Himself shows His greatly merciful nature and takes the form of Gurudev can transcendental knowledge be spread to someone's heart, and only then will someone understand Gurudev's position.\n\nThe chosen one\n\nguru-mukha-padma-vākya, chittete kariyā aikya,  \nāra nā kariha mane āśā\n\n(Śrī Prema-bhakti-chandrikā: 1.2)\n\nIf any sincere seeker can follow the advice of Gurudev he must receive Kṛṣṇa's mercy. Kṛṣṇa Himself has given us 200 per cent assurance of that. We must have full faith in the transcendental knowledge that is revealed through Gurudev. It is actually not necessary to follow any advice from any other quarter. It is only necessary to wholeheartedly follow with full faith the teachings, orders, and service responsibilities which come from Gurudev.\n\nśrī guru-charaṇe rati, sei se uttama-gati,  \nye prasāde pūre sarva āśā\n\n(Śrī Prema-bhakti-chandrikā: 1.2)\n\nIf you are determined to follow the order of Gurudev properly with chastity and sincerity, then you will get everything through his service (ye prasāde pūre sarva āśa).\n\nŚrīla Viśvanāth Chakravartī Ṭhākur gave us this most clear conception: \"Gurudev is a teacher and Gurudev is a servitor.\" Gurudev is actually Kṛṣṇa's supreme servitor (kintu Prabhor yaḥ priya eva tasya). He shows us his form in this way. You will receive full spiritual benefit when you see what Gurudev is doing and how he is satisfying the Lord. You will be most benefitted when you see that he is giving you service for the satisfaction of his divine Lord. When you see Gurudev in this way you will receive all hope and facility to satisfy the Lord.\n\nTranscendental vision\n\nchakṣu-dāna dilā yei, janme janme prabhu sei,  \ndivya-jñāna hṛde prokāśita\n\n(Śrī Prema-bhakti-chandrikā: 1.3)\n\nProper transcendental vision comes to us through Gurudev. Everything in this world is mundane, but the transcendental plane can be revealed anywhere and everywhere within this material world. That's what makes the transcendental plane transcendent. For example, when a flower falls from a tree we do not care so much for that flower. It may have fallen on the road, and we may smash it as we walk by without caring. But when a flower is offered to the lotus feet of the Deity, or offered to a respectable Vaiṣṇava or Gurudev, then we no longer ignore or disrespect that flower. We take it on our head and give it proper honour. Why? Not because we see anything different about the flower but because our knowledge tells us that it has been offered to the Lord, and whenever anything is offered to the Lord it takes on a transcendental form. This is transcendental vision. Śrīla Bhakti Vinod Ṭhākur said,\n\nye-dina gṛhe, bhajana dekhi,  \ngṛhete goloka bhāya\n\n(Śaraṇāgati: 31.6)\n\n\"When I see my whole family satisfying the Lord through their activities; when I see their practices like chanting the Holy Name, worshiping the Deity, and offering foods to the Deity; when I see all of the activity in my family is God-centric, then I feel: 'My family is not mundane and does not live in a mundane environment: it actually has a transcendental form.'\"\n\nThis sort of transcendental knowledge comes to us through Gurudev, and if we carefully try to observe the environment with that knowledge, then we will be able to see everything transcendentally. If we are a proper practitioner then transcendental feelings must come into our heart. When transcendental knowledge reveals itself in our heart, our vision of the environment automatically changes and we see that what appears to be mundane can actually expand into something spiritual. Our children become spiritual children, and the flowers in our garden become spiritual flowers; everything and everyone we see becomes transcendental when we see them related with the Lord.\n\nThrough transcendental vision we will see that Kṛṣṇa lives in the heart of everyone. We will see that He lives not only within the hearts of humans but within the hearts of all species, all 8,400,000 species in this world. Through our transcendental knowledge our vision changes. Then, whenever we meet anyone, we first courteously say, \"Namaskār Sir\". We offer honour in this way to everyone. And who are we honouring? We see that the Lord lives inside everyone's heart, so we are honouring the Lord: we offer our respect to Him and to the person in whose heart He resides. This type of transcendental knowledge and the mood it brings to our heart of giving honour to others is actually natural for everyone, even though we so often forget it.\n\nI have seen it in many Western countries also. Today when we let someone pass before us they happily said, \"Thank you. Happy Christmas.\" The person's heart was melted by our activity, and she expressed her happiness through her blessing. If it was only mundane courtesy that is also very good. When that courtesy will have transcendental feelings behind it, when that courtesy comes from the vision that, \"The Lord is living everywhere, and the Lord's mercy is spread everywhere\", then it will create even more happiness for her, for us, and for everyone.\n\nAnyone who can see the environment in this way must have transcendental knowledge, and that type of transcendental knowledge is revealed in our heart through Gurudev. Gurudev is not a man actually. He shows himself in that way, but as an instrument of the Lord, he has a transcendental form.\n\nTrue love\n\nGurudev distributes the full love, beauty, charm, and ecstasy that is existing within Kṛṣṇa.\n\nprema-bhakti yāhā haite, avidyā vināśa yāte,  \nvede gāya yāhāra charita\n\n(Śrī Prema-bhakti-chandrikā: 1.3)\n\nKṛṣṇa is very near and dear to us as the enjoyer of the universe. Kṛṣṇa happily enjoys everything we offer to Him, and He also Himself tries to satisfy us: He takes service from us and gives us more and more loving inspiration to continue serving Him. As our loving inspiration increases we feel more and more attachment, love, and ecstasy for Him. This comes to us through service. So our service, our love for Him, our satisfaction, and His satisfaction all continuously increase. This is called prema-bhakti, ecstatic loving devotion.\n\nIn the mundane world people use the word love very freely for many different purposes, but love really means 'satisfying our beloved'. Full attachment, with affection and the mood of trying to satisfy, is the real meaning of love.\n\nWe see in this mundane world that some people are very happy to feed others. If guests come to their home, with or without an invitation, they cook with great satisfaction, and give affectionate nourishment and enjoyable food to their guests. When they are feeding their guests they actually feel more satisfaction than their guests because of their mood of service and giving. That is the sparking light of transcendental love and affection, which will take full form when we use it to satisfy our divine Lord. When love for our Lord comes into our hearts in a very overflooded way and increases continuously it is called Kṛṣṇa-prema.\n\nDestroyer of illusion\n\nprema-bhakti yāhā haite, avidyā vināśa yāte,  \nvede gāya yāhāra charita\n\nWhen Kṛṣṇa-prema reveals itself in our heart, automatically our mundane knowledge, all mundanity actually, disappears, just as darkness disappears from a room when a bulb is lit. Avidyā vināśa yāte: automatically all of our mundane feelings disappear when Kṛṣṇa-prema is revealed in our heart. Vede gāya yāhāra charita: everywhere all the scriptures—the Vedas, Vedānta, Upaniṣads, and so on—glorify Gurudev as the giver of that type of transcendental knowledge.\n\ntasmād guruṁ prapadyeta jijñāsuḥ śreya uttamam  \nśābde pare cha niṣṇātaṁ brahmaṇy upaśamāśrayam\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam: 11.3.21)\n\nAll the scriptures advise us: \"A teacher is necessary. Without a teacher you cannot understand anything. When the proper teacher comes in front of you, you must surrender to him and honour him. Guru means a bearer and messenger of transcendental knowledge. Guru can be and must be honoured as your Lord Himself. This is because a genuine Guru is established with full knowledge on the spiritual platform and directly represents the Lord.\"\n\nBy 'knowledge' we do not mean knowledge gathered from books and scriptures. That type of knowledge is not sufficient. A genuine Guru has feelings in his heart that have been revealed by his Guru which come from the Lord Himself. A genuine Guru who has such real revealed knowledge in his heart can preach, and his students learn the proper thing.\n\ngu-śabdas tv andhakārasya ru-śabdas tan-nivārakaḥ  \nandhakāra-nirodhitvād gurur ity abhidhīyate\n\n(Skanda-purāṇa)\n\n\"Guru means 'gu'-'ru': one who can destroy, ru, the darkness of ignorance, gu, which is present in the mundane world and in our hearts, by giving us knowledge that has descended from the spiritual world.\"\n\noṁ ajñāna-timirāndhasya jñānāñjana-śalākayā  \nchakṣur unmilitaṁ yena tasmai śrī-gurave namaḥ\n\nWe pray to Gurudev with this praṇām mantram every day. Ajñāna means illusion, the illusory environment that covers our whole existence. Under the influence of illusion we think we are our body and become attached to our house and so many temporary things. Everything material is really a passing show, but in illusion we think it will remain with us forever. Gurudev removes the darkness of this mundane illusion by opening our transcendental eyes and giving us transcendental vision—transcendental knowledge.\n\nGurus: genuine and generic\n\nIt is necessary for a Guru to be genuine. Not everyone has that quality or qualification. Now in this world everyone can see that there are many self-made gurus, bogus gurus, and so on. I do not know who is bogus and who is not. It is not my business to criticise others, and I do not know who everyone is. I can only comment about the general character of a guru. The scriptures say:\n\nguravo bahavaḥ santi śiṣya-vittāpahārakāḥ  \ndurlabho sad-gurur devi śiṣya-santāpa-hārakaḥ\n\n(Purāṇa-vākya)\n\n\"There will always be many gurus who can expertly give their followers some mundane nourishment, take their wealth, and then leave them. But a real Guru destroys the dark mundane feelings of ignorance within everyone and makes everyone's hearts temples of the Lord. A true Guru who has this capacity, and who never tries to do anything other than this, is very rare in the mundane world.\" This is the character and activity of a genuine Guru, and that is the type of Guru glorified in the scriptures.\n\nOnce we saw a very poor man come to take initiation from Śrīla Guru Mahārāj. He apologised: \"O Mahārāj, I have no money. I can only give you a donation of a few rupees.\"\n\nŚrīla Guru Mahārāj said, \"What are you thinking? I do not want any money from you. It is only a courtesy that you give some money. If you do not have much money and cannot contribute enough money to equal the value of Hari-nām mālā [chanting beads] I am giving you, I still must give them to you if you are a sincere seeker. Don't worry about that. What I need is your faith, sincerity, and chastity. You must promise me that you will serve Kṛṣṇa and through your mood of service try to satisfy Kṛṣṇa. I want you to make this promise in front of me, and that is all I want from you.\"\n\nŚrīla Guru Mahārāj explained everything to the poor man in this way. That is the real mood of distributing Kṛṣṇa consciousness and the real behaviour of a genuine Guru.\n\nSaviour of the fallen\n\nWe are conditioned souls, and when we think about our conditioned position we may think we are hopeless. But we can pray to Gurudev, \"You have full power and you are kind to the fallen souls. Please give your merciful attention to me and make me a good servitor of yourself, Lord Śrī Kṛṣṇa, and Śrīmatī Rādhārāṇī.\"\n\nśrī-guru karuṇā-sindhu, adhama janāra bandhu,\n\n(Śrī Prema-bhakti-chandrikā: 1.4)\n\nGurudev is very merciful to the conditioned souls, and his attention specially goes to those who are most fallen. Gurudev is like an affectionate father. If a father has five sons but one of his sons feels some deficiency because he is unqualified or unhappy, then the father gives special attention and nourishment to that son so that he may be promoted.\n\nConnection with transcendence\n\nFinally Śrīla Narottam Ṭhākur mentions his Gurudev's name,\n\nlokanātha lokera jīvana\n\n(Śrī Prema-bhakti-chandrikā: 1.4)\n\n\"Lokanāth Prabhu is my Gurudev. He is my life and soul, my everything, and these are the glories of his mercy.\"\n\nhā hā prabhu kara dayā, deha more pada-chhāyā,  \ntuyā pade laila śaraṇa\n\n(Śrī Prema-bhakti-chandrikā: 1.4)\n\nThen Narottam Ṭhākur prays, \"O Gurudev, I want your full attention. Please be merciful to me. Again and again I am taking shelter at your lotus feet. I do not know if I am properly surrendering to you, but please give your full attention to me. Only through your divine grace will I be connected with Lord Kṛṣṇa, receive transcendental knowledge, and be engaged in Lord Kṛṣṇa's service. Please be merciful to me.\"\n\nTrue shelter\n\nOn the logo of our Śrī Chaitanya Sāraswat Maṭh you can see the sun, some water, and a lotus. These are symbolic. The lotus represents the jīva-soul, the servitor of Kṛṣṇa; the sun represents Kṛṣṇa; and the water represents Gurudev. When a lotus lives in the protection of water, it blooms and the sun's rays give life to the lotus, but when a lotus is taken out of water and kept in a dry place, the sun burns it. The logo of Śrī Chaitanya Sāraswat Maṭh means that when we live under the protection of Gurudev, Kṛṣṇa will always be merciful to us, but that without the shelter of Gurudev we have no hope.\n\nharau ruṣṭe gurus-trātā gurau ruṣṭe na kaśchana\n\n(Āditya-purāṇa)\n\nIf Kṛṣṇa becomes angry with us, our Gurudev can save us from Kṛṣṇa's anger; he can give us some nourishment and life. But if our Gurudev becomes angry with us, nothing can save us, not even Kṛṣṇa can help us. Gurudev's mercy is even more beneficial and essential than Kṛṣṇa's mercy. This is the essential point. Śrīla Viśvanāth Chakravartī Ṭhākur said,\n\nyasya prasādād bhagavat-prasādo  \nyasyāprasādān na gatiḥ kuto 'pi  \ndhyāyaṁ stuvaṁs tasya yaśas tri-sandhyaṁ  \nvande guroḥ śrī-charaṇāravindam\n\n(Śrī Gurvaṣṭakam: 8)\n\nWe must consider that Kṛṣṇa's mercy appears to us in the form of our Gurudev's mercy. This means that when our Gurudev is happy with us Kṛṣṇa must also be happy with us, and when Kṛṣṇa is happy with us our Gurudev will be happy with us. This is our Gurudev's position, and in this way we will always see that all auspicious and beneficial wealth comes to us through Gurudev. Gurudev is our true shelter.\n\nThe supreme servitor\n\nGuru-paramparā, the preceptorial lineage of Gurus, is like a telescopic system. Within a telescope there are many lenses, and when they are properly adjusted one by one we can see through them things we do not have the power to see with our own vision. The Gurus in our paramparā are like lenses in a telescope. There is power within each of the lenses which deepens our vision and shows us how to satisfy Śrīmatī Rādhārāṇī and Lord Kṛṣṇa.\n\nIn the line of the Śrī Rūpānuga sampradāya, our vision and devotion is going up through our Guru Mahārāj, Śrīla Bhakti Rakṣak Śrīdhar Dev-Goswāmī Mahārāj, and Prabhupād Śrīla Bhakti Siddhānta Saraswatī Goswāmī Ṭhākur, to Śrī Rūpa Mañjarī and from there to Rādhārāṇī. Śrīla Prabhupād Saraswatī Ṭhākur taught that we will think of our Gurudev at the highest level as Rādhārāṇī Herself; we will think that our Gurudev is a nondifferent form of Rādhārāṇī. Gurudev has different forms. Sometimes we will see that Gurudev is nondifferent from Kṛṣṇa, but more exclusively we see that he is the supreme servitor of Kṛṣṇa—Rādhārāṇī.\n\n\"I got everything!\"\n\nGurudev's full mercy and gift, which he bestows through his different forms, has been described by Śrīla Raghunāth Dās Goswāmī in his super praṇām mantram, which we always use to pray to our Gurudev:\n\nnāma-śreṣṭhaṁ manum api śachī-putram atra svarūpaṁ  \nrūpaṁ tasyāgrajam uru-purīṁ māthurīṁ goṣṭha-vāṭīm  \nrādha-kuṇḍaṁ giri-varam aho rādhikā-mādhavāśāṁ  \nprāpto yasya prathita-kṛpayā śrī-guruṁ taṁ nato 'smi\n\n(Śrī Mukta-charitam: 2)\n\nNāma-śreṣṭham: Dās Goswāmī expresses that Gurudev mercifully gave him the Hare Kṛṣṇa mahāmantra, the supreme mantram within the mundane and transcendental worlds. The mahāmantra can rescue anyone from any position. It can everyone within all the universes. Hare Kṛṣṇa actually means Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa. Gracefully Gurudev gives us the chance to call Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa into our heart and pray that They will mercifully appear there.\n\nManum api Śachī-putram: by the causeless mercy of Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu, who is the nondifferent form of Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa, the Hare Kṛṣṇa mahāmantra came down to the mundane world. Dās Goswāmī also received the mercy of the Lord Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu through Gurudev.\n\nAtra Svarūpam: then Śrīla Raghunāth Dās Goswāmī says that not only has he received the mercy of Mahāprabhu and the Holy Name, but that Mahāprabhu has mercifully handed him to His dearmost associate and nondifferent form, Śrīla Svarūp Dāmodar. Dās Goswāmī expresses here that he has also received Śrīla Svarūp Dāmodar's mercy through Gurudev.\n\nRūpaṁ tasyāgrajam: then by the grace of Gurudev, Dās Goswāmī received the mercy and association of Mahāprabhu's dearmost disciples, Śrīla Rūpa Goswāmī and Śrīla Sanātan Goswāmī.\n\nUru-purīṁ Māthurīṁ goṣṭha-vāṭīm: then by the mercy of Gurudev, Dās Goswāmī was given entrance into Mathurā–Vṛndāvan Dhām, where Kṛṣṇa is always engaged in His Pastimes with the gopas and gopīs.\n\nRādha-kuṇḍam: by the mercy of Gurudev, Dās Goswāmī was given shelter at Rādhā Kuṇḍa, where the supreme opportunity for service to Rādhā-Govinda exists.\n\nGiri-varam: by the mercy of Gurudev, Dās Goswāmī received from Mahāprabhu a Govardhan-śilā, a nondifferent form of Kṛṣṇa. to worship, as well as shelter at the lotus feet of Govardhan Hill near Rādhā Kuṇḍa in Vṛndāvan Dhām.\n\nAho Rādhikā-Mādhavāśām: and by the mercy of Gurudev, Dās Goswāmī received all hope for the service of Rādhā-Mādhava. This means Rādhārāṇī Herself in the form of Gurudev gave mercy to Dās Goswāmī, because without the special mercy of Rādhārāṇī no one can enter where the Divine Couple are playing.\n\nPrāpto yasya prathita-kṛpayā: lastly in his praṇām mantram to Gurudev Dās Goswāmī says that he has been given everything by Gurudev. Śrī Guruṁ Taṁ nato 'smi: so he bows down to Gurudev's lotus feet in full surrender.\n\nDās Goswāmī expressed his heart through this verse. Dās Goswāmī is very humble, but he is clearly confessing in his prayer, \"I have received this, this, this, this, and everything, by the grace of Gurudev. I have received the mercy of Kṛṣṇa, Rādhārāṇī, Mahāprabhu, Their associates, Their abode—everything.\"\n\n\"When will I receive your mercy?\"\n\nŚrīla Raghunāth Dās Goswāmī was a very dear associate of Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu, and he was also very dear to all the devotees of Chaitanya Mahāprabhu. Śrīla Svarūp Dāmodar, who was a nondifferent form of Chaitanya Mahāprabhu, was his personal guardian. So Dās Goswāmī had no deficiency; he was unlimitedly fortunate by the grace of Gurudev. But after living with Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu and Śrīla Svarūp Dāmodar, Raghunāth Dās Goswāmī came to Vṛndāvan to stay with Śrīla Rūpa Goswāmī Prabhu.\n\nDās Goswāmī thought he would leave his body after the disappearance of his Lord, Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu, and his master, Svarūp Dāmodar. But when he found Śrīla Rūpa Goswāmī in Vṛndāvan, he got new life. While living in Vṛndāvan, Dās Goswāmī followed many very extreme practising processes in his devotional life. Living under the shelter of Śrīla Rūpa Goswāmī Prabhu, he would pray to Rādhārāṇī as his Gurudev in a very exclusive way, in a mood of iṣṭa-lābha vine, unfulfilled desire.\n\nāśā-bharair amṛta-sindhu-mayaiḥ kathañchit  \nkālo mayāti-gamitaḥ kila sāmprataṁ hi  \ntvañ chet kṛpāṁ mayi vidhāsyasi naiva kiṁ me  \nprāṇair vrajena cha varoru bakāriṇāpi\n\n(Vilāpa-kusumāñjalī: 102)\n\n\"O Rādhārāṇī, I worship the Kṛṣṇa who lives with You, plays with You, is joyful with You, and tastes ecstasy with You. I worship that Kṛṣṇa, Your Kṛṣṇa. You are the nectarean ocean of Kṛṣṇa-līlā, and for that I have so much hope. I want to taste a little bit of that nectar, and with great hope I have passed such a long time here in Rādhā Kuṇḍa, praying for Your mercy and hoping I will receive Your connection. You are my Mistress. and I have been waiting on the bank of Your kuṇḍa, Rādhā Kuṇḍa, for such a long time, hoping that You will bestow Your mercy upon me. I have spent so long waiting, and now I am going to die. I have passed eighty years here in Vṛndāvan, and I am living only to receive Your mercy.\n\n\"O Rādhārāṇī! Please bestow Your mercy upon me. I need Your mercy, and my only hope is that one day You will bestow it upon me. I have passed year after year not receiving You mercy, but still I am hopeful I will receive it one day. I am living only for that, and that is my only desire. I will leave my body soon but I pray, 'O Rādhārāṇī, please bestow Your mercy upon me.'\n\n\"When will You be merciful to me? O Rādhārāṇī! Without Your mercy I do not want Kṛṣṇa's mercy. I do not want to meet or serve Kṛṣṇa without You. Only when Kṛṣṇa is with You is Kṛṣṇa so glorious to me. Without Your mercy Kṛṣṇa's mercy is useless to me. I only want to serve You and see that my service goes to Kṛṣṇa through You. That is my desire. Kṛṣṇa is not a factor for me; You are my life and goal. Your service is my only desire and expectation, nothing else. I have passed eighty years praying for Your service and still I am keeping my hope that I will receive Your mercy.\n\n\"If I do not receive Your mercy then I consider Kṛṣṇa's mercy useless and undesirable. I do not want Kṛṣṇa to bestow His mercy upon me in an independent way. What will I do with Him? I do not want anything directly from Kṛṣṇa. Your lotus feet are my only shelter. I only want Your service.\"\n\nrādhā-saṅge yadā bhāti tadā 'madana-mohanaḥ'  \nanyathā viśva-moho 'pi svayaṁ 'madana-mohitaḥ'\n\n(Śrī Govinda-līlāmṛta: 13.32)\n\n\"O Rādhārāṇī, when Kṛṣṇa lives with You, He is fully satisfied and His mood is greatly merciful. When Kṛṣṇa lives with You, He is Madan Mohan: He is liberated from any attraction by Cupid, and Cupid is stunned to see Kṛṣṇa's beauty. But Kṛṣṇa's beauty and attractive power come only from You. Without You, Kṛṣṇa's beauty cannot attract His exclusive devotees. And more than that, without You, Kṛṣṇa Himself is attracted by Cupid.\"\n\n\"O my Goddess, if You do not accept me, if You are not merciful to me, then what will Kṛṣṇa be for me? His position will not be Madan Mohan: He will be like Bakāri, the killer of Pūtanā and other demons. What will I do with Kṛṣṇa in His form of a demon-killer? I want to exclusively worship the Kṛṣṇa who is holding hands with You, and I want only to worship Him through You. So I need Your mercy. Without Your mercy everything is useless to me. When will You bestow Your mercy upon me, O Rādhārāṇī? Your mercy is my only hope.\"\n\nDevastated by love\n\nIn this attentive and exclusive mood of devotion Raghunāth Dās Goswāmī prayed to Rādhārāṇī, trying to draw Her grace to him. In this prayer Dās Goswāmī expresses our highest vision of Gurudev.\n\nDās Goswāmī lived on the banks of Rādhā Kuṇḍa for some time with this mood of extreme hope and hankering. But when Śrīla Rūpa Goswāmī Prabhu disappeared, Dās Goswāmī became deeply disturbed and felt he could not tolerate the environment of Vṛndāvan.\n\nśūnyāyate mahā-goṣṭhaṁ girīndro 'jagarāyate  \nvyāghra-tuṇḍāyate kuṇḍaṁ jīvātu-rahitasya me\n\n(Śrī Prārthanāśraya-chaturdaśaka: 11)\n\nDās Goswāmī felt, \"My life has left my body. Now Rādhā Kuṇḍa is not the joyful place of Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa. Vyāghra-tuṇḍāyate kuṇḍam: I now see Rādhā Kuṇḍa as the open mouth of a tiger coming to eat me. Girīndro 'jagarāyate: I now see Girirāj Govardhan like a python coming to attack me. Śūnyāyate mahā-goṣṭham: now the whole of Vraja Bhūmi, where the cows, gopas, and gopīs play, appears void and empty to me. I do not see anyone, and everything seems to have been demolished. Everything appears to me in this way because I have lost my heart, my jīvātu [my very life], Śrīla Rūpa Goswāmī Prabhu.\"\n\nŚrīla Raghunāth Dās Goswāmī expressed his feelings of hope to receive the mercy of Rādhārāṇī and his feelings of separation from his Gurudev Śrīla Rūpa Goswāmī through his verses āśā-bharair amṛta-sindhu-mayaiḥ kathañchit and śūnyāyate mahā-goṣṭham. Dās Goswāmī was an exclusive follower in the line of Śrīla Rūpa Goswāmī and Rādhārāṇī, and in this way his feelings went from deep to deeper. Śrīla Guru Mahārāj used the philosophical phrase, \"Dive deep into Reality\". It is necessary for us to touch that reality, at least from a distance. Then we can understand everything. All of it comes through Guru-śuśrūṣayā (SB: 10.80.34), the service of Gurudev. All property will gradually come to us in that way. That is our line, our process, our method.\n\nInfinite mercy\n\nŚrīla Raghunāth Dās Goswāmī is in one way saying, \"I have been given everything by my Gurudev.\" He openly said this in his beautiful verse Nāma-śreṣṭaṁ manum api Śachī-putram atra Svarūpam. But he also expressed his extreme hankering and hope to attain more mercy from Gurudev, that is, Rādhārāṇī and Śrīla Rūpa Goswāmī. This is the nature of Kṛṣṇa consciousness. These two types of feelings are always present in the devotees's hearts. In one way they are saying, \"I have been given everything\", and in another way they are saying, \"I have nothing; I am in need.\"\n\nIf anyone receives mercy from Gurudev, they will never feel it to be insufficient. Yet, they will also feel that Gurudev's mercy is unlimitedly attractive and infinite. So the more they taste it, the more they will desire to taste more of it. Because their hankering becomes greater and greater in that way, they feel, \"I am empty. I have not received anything.\" The feeling of the devotee is, \"Tad dūre tad v antike (Īu: 5): it is so far, and it is so near.\"\n\nBy hope we feel we are so near to Kṛṣṇa and Rādhārāṇī, but by action we may feel we live so far from Their abode and Pastimes. The harmonising conclusion about this situation has been given by Śrī Chaitanyadev: achintya-bhedābheda. Inconceivably, both moods are present in the hearts of the devotees: \"It is so near to us, and in another way it is so far.\"\n\nThrough the extreme example of Raghunāth Dās Goswāmī we can understand that if we open the door of our hearts to Gurudev, we will find his mercy is waiting for us right behind the door. If only we open our hearts, Gurudev's mercy will enter us. We will discover our fortune and find that our Guru-paramparā, beginning with Śrīla Rūpa Goswāmī Prabhu, has a spoonful of nectar ready for us. When we receive that, we will feel unable to ever fully glorify Gurudev. We will feel his infinite mercy.\nSection Two   \nThe Supreme Personality of Godhead\n\nDaśa-mūla-tattva\n\nTruths Two, Three, and Four:\n\nharim iha paramaṁ sarva-śaktiṁ rasābdhiṁ\n\nŚrī Kṛṣṇa is supreme.  \nHe is the possessor of all potencies.  \nHe is the ocean of all divine ecstasy.\nChapter Four   \nThe Supreme Controller\n\nQuestion (in a public gathering): I have heard that Swami Ramakrishna taught that people should first worship demigods like Mother Kālī and then worship Lord Kṛṣṇa. Is worshipping Kṛṣṇa and worshipping other demigods the same thing? Is there a difference between worshipping different Deities or forms of the Lord?\n\nŚrīla Govinda Mahārāj: Your questions are simple and their answers are also simple. In Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā it is said,\n\nyānti deva-vratā devān pitṝn yānti pitṛ-vratāḥ  \nbhūtāni yānti bhūtejyā yānti mad-yājino 'pi mām\n\n(Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā: 9.25)\n\n\"Those who worship the devatās, demigods, go to the domain of the demigods. Those who worship the pitṛs, forefathers, go to the place of the forefathers. Those who worship the bhūtas, ghosts, go to the plane of the ghosts. And those who worship Kṛṣṇa, the Supreme Personality of Godhead, go to Kṛṣṇaloka, the transcendental abode of Kṛṣṇa.\"\n\nThis is the advice of Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā. Ramakrishna told people that all of these forms of worship and all of these destinations are the same. This is not true, and they are not the same. All diseases are not the same; all happiness is not the same; all sadness is not the same; each of our fingers are not the same; all people are not the same. No two things are exactly the same. How can all forms of worship and all destinations be the same? They are never the same.\n\nThe teaching of Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā is that you have free choice and you decide what you want. You choose your destination. You have to properly realise what your needs are and then proceed in the appropriate direction. By worshipping demigods you can attain kanak, kāminī, and pratiṣṭhā: temporary wealth, enjoyment, and fame in this world. These are not the essential needs of our hearts. To always be searching in one direction or another in pursuit of material desires is not good, and it will not give anyone a fulfilling result. If you are willing to satisfy anyone, regardless of who they are, to fulfil your material desires, then your nature is like that of a prostitute. But if your mood is that exclusively you want to satisfy your Lord, then your nature is like that of a chaste servitor. The question about whether worshipping the Lord and the demigods is the same is actually a matter of chastity and prostitution.\n\nŚrīmad Bhāgavatam has advised us that by pleasing our Master we will automatically please everyone and attain everything we need.\n\nyathā taror mūla-niṣechanena  \ntṛpyanti tat-skandha-bhujopaśākhāḥ  \nprāṇopahārāch cha yathendriyāṇāṁ  \ntathaiva sarvārhaṇam achyutejyā\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam: 4.31.14)\n\n\"If you pour water on the root of a tree, the whole tree is nourished. If you offer your devotion and service to Kṛṣṇa, the Supreme Personality of Godhead, all demigods, all goddesses, and the whole world are satisfied. You can fulfil all your duties and desires by worshiping Lord Kṛṣṇa. This is what is truly necessary for everyone.\"\n\nRelative destiny\n\nWhen I was young I used to go out every day collecting money for the service of Śrīla Guru Mahārāj. During this time I was living with Śrīla Swāmī Mahārāj at Sitakanta Banerjee Lane in Kolkata. He was working on his translation of Bhagavad-gītā As It Is then, and every day he would teach me something from Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā, or give me some advice, and then I would go out. I would tell the people I met the things I heard from Śrīla Swāmī Mahārāj. Some days I would get a very good response and come home in a dancing mood. But some days I would not collect anything. And on some days people would even try to beat me. During that time I met many devotees of Mother Kālī and would often end up debating with them. The worshippers of Mother Kālī pray to her for selfish purposes: \"O Mother Kālī, dhanaṁ dehi janaṁ dehi rūpaṁ dehi yaśo dehi, and so on: give me wealth, give me manpower, give me beauty, give me fame, and so on. Dehi dehi dehi, give me, give me, give me....\"\n\nMother Kālī is actually a param Vaiṣṇavī, a perfect chaste servitor of her Master, the Lord. And she can also give Viṣṇu-bhakti to the conditioned souls. But the conditioned souls are foolish and cannot understand what is good for them. They do not understand that they must die someday and will be forced to leave everything they may gain in their life through their worship. Pursuing material desires, even through worship, is never in the actual interest of anyone.\n\nOne day I told some of the devotees of Mother Kālī who wanted to debate with me, \"Vivekānanda is a guṇḍā [dacoit] and Ramakrishna is a mūrkha pūjārī [ignorant priest].\" They became very angry with me and tried to beat me. Many of Mother Kālī's devotees especially would always want to fight with me.\n\nAfter this I asked Śrīla Swāmī Mahārāj, \"What should I say to worshippers of Mother Kālī?\"\n\nŚrīla Swāmī Mahārāj's preaching style was always very hard, and he told me jokingly, \"Ask them why they are worshipping Mother Kālī. If they are faithful devotees of Mother Kālī what will they ultimately attain? Tell them they should know that if they worship Mother Kālī, they will go to Mother Kālī's domain. That will be their destiny. What Mother Kālī eats, they will eat. What Mother Kālī does, they will do. Where Mother Kālī lives, they will live. Their final destiny will be to become an associate of Mother Kālī.\n\n\"So you should ask them, 'Where does Mother Kālī live? Mother Kālī lives in a cremation ground. Who are Mother Kālī's associates? Ḍākinīs and yogīnīs, that is, many varieties of witches and ghosts. What does Mother Kālī eat in her domain? The meat and blood of her dead sons. What is Mother Kālī's mood? Mother Kālī has no shyness; she stands naked showing her tongue to her sons. She attracts her sons to come to her and then she takes their heads, cuts their necks, and puts their skulls on her garland. Have you seen the garland of the skulls of the demons she kills around her neck? This is Mother Kālī's nature, and if you worship her you will go to her abode, Kālīloka. Ye yathā Māṁ prapadyante tāṁs tathaiva bhajāmy Aham (Bg: 4.11). If you feel you need to go to Mother Kālī's abode you can go there to stay with her, and lastly she will cut off your head and add it to her garland. If this is your desire then we have no objection.'\"\n\nŚrīla Swāmī Mahārāj joked in this way. Then he said, \"But just see our Kṛṣṇa! Kṛṣṇa lives in Vṛndāvan Dhām. There Kṛṣṇa has so many girlfriends and so much butter, ghee, cheese, milk, sandeś, rasagullas, fruits, sweets, luchis, purīs, laḍḍus, kachorīs, and so on. We can eat all of these things there with Lord Kṛṣṇa. There the forests and gardens are beautifully decorated and so many cows can be found everywhere. We will be associates of Lord Kṛṣṇa and play with Him and the cowherd boys near the Yamunā River. Kṛṣṇa is so beautiful: He attracts everyone with the beauty of His divine form.\n\n\"You can do as you like. You have free choice: the meat and witches of Mother Kālī or the sweetness of Kṛṣṇa. You decide for yourself.\" In this way Śrīla Swāmī Mahārāj jokingly explained to me what I could say to the devotees of Mother Kālī and gave me very good nourishment.\n\nThe Lord's supreme power\n\nIt is necessary to understand the positions of Kṛṣṇa, the Supreme Personality of Godhead, and the demigods. There is a story in the Upaniṣads which clearly explains the supreme position of the Lord as the master of the demigods.\n\nOnce the demigods were very proud of their universal powers and they thought, \"We do everything.\" The Lord was aware of this and wanted to give them some proper consciousness. He took the form of an old man and appeared before the demigods. He first asked Agnidev, \"Who are you, sir? Where are you going?\"\n\nAgnidev said, \"I am Agnidev, the master of fire.\"\n\nThe Lord asked him, \"What can you do?\"\n\nAgnidev said, \"I can burn whole universes.\"\n\nThen the Lord tested him, \"If you have such power, can you please show it to me by burning this grass here before us?\"\n\nAgnidev tried with his full energy but, by the Lord's will, he was unable to burn the grass. Finally he left.\n\nThen Vāyu came along and the Lord asked him, \"What is your power? What can you do?\"\n\nVāyu said, \"I can blow anything and everything away with my power.\"\n\nThe Lord asked him, \"Can you move this grass here before us?\" He tried but, by the will of the Lord, he was unable to move the grass.\n\nIn this way many demigods came before the Lord but were unable to demonstrate their power.\n\nFinally Devarāj Indra, the king of all the demigods, heard about what was happening and himself came to see the old man. The Lord then disappeared and sent Mahāmāyā to appear before Indra.\n\nIndra asked her, \"Who was that old man?\"\n\nMahāmāyā said, \"You demigods think you have so much power and can do anything, but without the power of the Supreme Personality of Godhead you cannot do anything. He is that Supreme Personality of Godhead.\"\n\nWhen Mahāmāyā revealed the identity of the old man to Indra, he and all the demigods understood their actual position and from far away they all bowed down to the Lord.\n\nThe pride of Lord Indra\n\nDevarāj Indra was often very proud. This is natural. \"The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power\", these things can easily make anyone proud. Once, Kṛṣṇa wanted to control Indra's mentality and demolish his pride. Kṛṣṇa wanted to do this because He liked Indra. He didn't want to punish Indra but rather give him proper knowledge. When the time came for the yearly worship of Indra, Kṛṣṇa inspired Nanda Mahārāj and the Vraja-vāsīs, \"Why you are worshipping Indra? It is really Girirāj Govardhan who provides us with our food. Girirāj Govardhan gives us everything we need the whole year round. We are all living together happily at the feet of Girirāj Govardhan. We should offer pūjā to Girirāj Govardhan. Why should we worship Indra?\"\n\nKṛṣṇa spoke to the Vraja-vāsīs in a very gentle and sober way, and they believed Him. Already Kṛṣṇa had performed so many miracles in Vṛndāvan and all the Vraja-vāsīs knew that Kṛṣṇa was not an ordinary boy, they knew He had extraordinary power. They were also proud of Kṛṣṇa's power and felt that whatever Kṛṣṇa told them must be truthful. So they followed His advice. Even though Kṛṣṇa was only a seven-year-old boy at the time, all the Vraja-vāsīs chose to follow Him. It was no problem for them. The Vraja-vāsīs said, \"We will follow Your advice.\"\n\nThen the Vraja-vāsīs left aside the worship of Indra, made a big festival, and began worshipping Girirāj Govardhan. Kṛṣṇa participated in the festival with the Vraja-vāsīs but also showed them that when they offered everything to Girirāj Govardhan, Girirāj Govardhan accepted their offerings. Kṛṣṇa took the form of Govardhan under His control and showed everyone that Govardhan was eating all of their offerings. In this way all the Vraja-vāsīs were very much obliged and happily offered everything to Girirāj Govardhan.\n\nWhen Indra heard of the big festival the Vraja-vāsīs held for Girirāj Govardhan, he could not tolerate being left aside and became very angry. He decided to demolish Vraja Dhām. He ordered all his subordinates, Chandra, Vāyu, Varuṇ, and so on to assist him and sent everything he had—his weapons, powerful clouds, and thunderbolts—to demolish Vraja Dhām. For seven days his clouds and thunderbolts struck down upon Vraja Dhām. The Vraja-vāsīs became very disturbed. They came to Kṛṣṇa and prayed, \"What shall we do, Kṛṣṇa? We are suffering a very bad reaction because we did not worship Devarāj Indra. You are our shelter. Give us Your protection.\"\n\nKṛṣṇa said, \"No problem. Girirāj Govardhan is very merciful. He accepted your offerings, your honour, your everything, so Girirāj Govardhan must save you. By accepting your offerings He has given you assurance He will provide for you. Pray to Girirāj Govardhan and He will save you. I will also pray to Govardhan.\"\n\nThen Kṛṣṇa said to Girirāj Govardhan, \"O Govardhan, please save them. I am taking You...\" Kṛṣṇa picked up Girirāj Govardhan with the small finger of His left hand just as a small child picks up a mushroom (utpāṭyaika-kareṇa śailam abalo līlochchhilīndhraṁ yathā).\n\nKṛṣṇa told all the Vraja-vāsīs, \"Come beneath Girirāj Govardhan.\" The Vraja-vāsīs entered beneath Govardhan Hill with all of their wealth, cows, and the various living entities of Vraja Dhām.\n\nIndra tried to punish the Vraja-vāsīs for seven days. He sent many clouds and completely flooded Vraja Dhām. After this, Indra thought all the Vraja-vāsīs had been driven out of Vraja Dhām by the flood and died somewhere. When he finally stopped the storms, Kṛṣṇa told the Vraja-vāsīs, \"Now you can go outside. The sky is clear and everything is over.\"\n\nWhen Indra saw the Vraja-vāsīs, their cows, and all the living entities of Vraja Dhām come out from beneath Girirāj Govardhan, he was surprised and understood who Kṛṣṇa really was. Indra understood that Kṛṣṇa was not an ordinary boy but the Lord Himself, who had come to perform His divine Pastimes in this world. Indra also understood that he had made a great offence to Kṛṣṇa. Indra came before Kṛṣṇa, paid his daṇḍavat praṇām, and surrendered. He apologised and praised Kṛṣṇa so much, \"O Lord, I am foolish. I could not understand Your glories or Your divine Pastimes. Please forgive my offences. Please be merciful to me.\"\n\nKṛṣṇa smiled and said, \"It is okay. It is no problem. I forgive your offences.\"\n\nIndra said, \"I want to worship You with Surabhi's milk. Surabhi has the power to give unlimited amounts of milk, and I want to perform an abhiṣek for You with her milk.\"\n\nThen Indra performed an abhiṣek pūjā for Kṛṣṇa with Surabhi's milk and said, \"You are so merciful to the cows, and to the whole world, so from today on we will worship You with the name 'Govinda'. He who gives joy to the hearts of the cows, calves, and cowherd boys must be known as 'Govinda'.\" In this way Indra gave Kṛṣṇa the name Govinda and Kṛṣṇa forgave Indra's offences.\n\nThe bewilderment of Lord Brahmā\n\nIt is Kṛṣṇa's nature to be merciful. Kṛṣṇa also forgave Lord Brahmā many times. Once Brahmā stole a group of cows and cowherd boys from the banks of the Yamunā in Vṛndāvan and hid them in a cave. Later Brahmā noticed that Vṛndāvan was still full of cows and cowherd boys. Brahmā went to check on the cows and cowherd boys he hid in the cave and saw that they were still there. Then again he saw in Vṛndāvan all the same cows and cowherd boys playing with Kṛṣṇa near the Yamunā. He was surprised, \"I stole these cows and cowherd boys. I just saw them all within the cave where I hid them, but here in Vṛndāvan everything is intact and they are still playing with Kṛṣṇa near the Yamunā. What is this?\" Brahmā was puzzled and finally surrendered to Kṛṣṇa. He folded his hands, offered prayers to Kṛṣṇa, and lastly said:\n\njānanta eva jānantu kiṁ bahūktyā na me prabho  \nmanaso vapuṣo vācho vaibhavaṁ tava gocharaḥ\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam: 10.14.38)\n\n\"O Kṛṣṇa, if anyone says, 'I know Your glories. I know You', he can say so, but I cannot say that. So many times I have seen Your glories, but I still have not come to their end. I cannot properly or fully understand You. I feel it is impossible for me or anyone to understand Your unlimited glories.\"\n\nIt is described in Śrī Brahma-saṁhitā that Brahmā was initiated by Kṛṣṇa. But Brahmā has a very difficult life, and many times he forgot Kṛṣṇa's position and glories. Kṛṣṇa taught Brahmā many times, but again and again disturbance would come to Brahmā and he would forget Kṛṣṇa's glories. Later he would regain his proper consciousness by Kṛṣṇa's grace. Thus Brahmā prays to Kṛṣṇa that he can never understand Kṛṣṇa without Kṛṣṇa's mercy.\n\nThe madness of Lord Śiva\n\nNot only are conditioned souls and the demigods, headed by Indra and Brahmā, bewildered by Kṛṣṇa's Pastimes, but also liberated souls are puzzled by them. Lord Śiva is not a conditioned soul; he is a liberated soul. Lord Śiva is Maheśvar Devādidev: the leader of all the demigods, who is worshipped by all the demigods. Whenever there is a great difficulty or obstacle creating trouble within the universe that no one can solve, it comes to Lord Śiva. Lord Śiva has the power to correct anything.\n\nWe can understand that this is Lord Śiva's position when we hear the story of the devas and asuras churning the ocean. After making a compromise with Lord Viṣṇu the devas and asuras came together to churn the ocean. They all worked together to churn the ocean, expecting to produce nectar, but many different things were produced. Airāvata, the king of the elephants, was produced. Uchchaiḥśravā, a horse as beautifully white as the moon, was produced. Surabhi, the heavenly cow, was produced. Even Lakṣmī Devī, the Goddess of fortune, was produced. So many things were produced and then distributed. Lakṣmī Devī went to Nārāyaṇ, Surabhi was taken by Indra, and so on.\n\nAs the devas and asuras continued churning the ocean, poison was produced, and everyone was disturbed. No one could destroy or control the poison. When the devas and asuras were confused about what to do with the poison, Viṣṇu said, \"Go to Lord Śiva. He is meditating on Mount Kailash.\"\n\nThen all the demigods went to Lord Śiva and prayed, \"Prabhu, save us! Poison has been produced from the ocean.\"\n\nLord Śiva said, \"No problem\". Then he came down from Mount Kailash and drank all the poison. This is Lord Śiva's nature: he can digest poison that can kill all the other devas. He has such power. Lord Śiva saved the devas in this way by drinking the poison and holding it in his throat. The poison was blue and appeared like a beautiful blue ornament on Lord Śiva's neck. For this, Lord Śiva became gloriously known as Nīlakaṇtha, \"He who has a bluish neck.\"\n\nThis is Lord Śiva's position and power. He has a very detached nature, and he is worshipped by all devas. But that Lord Śiva, who is a liberated soul beyond all material illusion, is also bewildered by Kṛṣṇa.\n\nWhen nectar was produced from the churning of the ocean, the asuras stole it. Lord Kṛṣṇa appeared in the form of Mohinī Mūrti, an attractive young woman, to trick the asuras into returning the nectar to the devas.\n\nLord Śiva had seen many of the Lord's forms, but when he heard that the Lord had appeared as Mohinī Mūrti before the asuras, he went to the Lord and requested, \"I was not present when You distributed ecstasy and appeared in the form of Mohinī Mūrti. Please show me this form of Yours.\"\n\nKṛṣṇa said, \"You want to see that form of Mine?\"\n\nParvatī Devī was with Lord Śiva at this time. She smiled, \"Oh? The Mohinī Mūrti?\" When Kṛṣṇa showed His Mohinī Mūrti form, Lord Śiva forgot his position, lost his senses, and ran madly after Mohinī Mūrti. He was completely attracted by Mohinī Mūrti's beauty.\n\nAfterwards, when Lord Śiva's mood finally finished, he came back to his senses and Mohinī Mūrti disappeared. Then he saw that he was again standing with Parvatī Devī next to him. When Lord Śiva saw Parvatī Devī he smiled, and Parvatī Devī also smiled. They both have no shyness actually. Lord Śiva told Parvatī Devī, \"Have you seen what just happened? I am a liberated soul. Not only that, I can make liberated souls. By my word I can liberate souls. If I say so, anyone can receive liberation; I have this type of power. So now you have seen Lord Kṛṣṇa's supreme power. I myself have become enchanted by His power and run madly after His attractive form.\"\n\nThere is a great difference between the worship of the demigods and the worship of Lord Kṛṣṇa. This must be so because all the demigods themselves worship Kṛṣṇa.\n\nThe all-powerful Lord Kṛṣṇa\n\nŚrī Kṛṣṇa alone is the Supreme Personality of Godhead. He is the Creator of all creation and the controller of all power (Harim iha paramaṁ sarva-śaktim). As the Creator of all creation, He cannot be powerless. He must be all-powerful. Especially now, in the age of the scientists, we can easily see examples of Kṛṣṇa's miraculous power and its manifestations everywhere throughout creation. When we are enlightened with transcendental knowledge by Kṛṣṇa's grace, we will see Kṛṣṇa's power existing everywhere in every direction within this mundane world. There will be no place where we will not see His power.\n\nThe invention of the atomic bomb shows us how much power is present inside every atom of Kṛṣṇa's creation. The scientists have shown that when the charged electrons and protons within an atom are separated, a tremendous explosion occurs. We heard that one of the scientists who helped invent the atomic bomb, Robert Oppenheimer, read Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā. When he saw the first test explosion of an atomic bomb he remembered this verse:\n\ndivi sūrya-sahasrasya bhaved yugapad utthitā  \nyadi bhāḥ sadṛśī sā syād bhāsas tasya mahātmanaḥ\n\n(Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā: 11.12)\n\nHe remarked, \"What I am seeing now before me appears like thousands of suns in full bloom. Seeing such light must be similar to seeing the effulgence of the viśvarūp, the universal form of Kṛṣṇa.\"\n\nThrough the example of the atomic bomb we can understand how much power is present within every atom of creation. All of that power is controlled by Kṛṣṇa.\n\nKṛṣṇa is so powerful. Even the smallest fragments of His creation contain so much power. But Kṛṣṇa is actually more powerful than we can conceive. We cannot even conceive of the full extent of His power. We cannot actually prove how powerful Kṛṣṇa is through our experience of the mundane world. If I say, \"His power is so great!\" How much can I actually understand? I may say, \"His power is as great as the sky!\" The sky may be the biggest thing I can see, but how big is the sky? Beyond what we can see to be the sky is the mahākāś, the outer space of this universe. That is far greater than the sky we can see. But the mahākāś includes only the space found within this particular universe. The scriptures teach us that there are millions of universes existing side by side within the Virajā, the river that divides the material and spiritual worlds. And the whole of the material nature existing within the Virajā is only one vibhūti, one part, of the majesty and creation of the infinite kingdom of Lord Kṛṣṇa. There is no end to how much more exists beyond the sky we see with our eyes. So we cannot understand how great Kṛṣṇa's power is with only our mundane experience. It is achintya, inconceivable.\n\nThe supreme controller\n\nWhen all of Kṛṣṇa's power is considered at once, we cannot conceive of it. We are finite, and His power is infinite. But everything about Kṛṣṇa's supreme position and power is expressed in the first verse of Śrī Brahma-saṁhitā:\n\nīśvaraḥ paramaḥ kṛṣṇaḥ sach-chid-ānanda-vigrahaḥ  \nanādir ādir govindaḥ sarva-kāraṇa-kāraṇam\n\n(Śrī Brahma-saṁhitā: 5.1)\n\n[\"The embodiment of spiritual energy, consciousness, and ecstasy, Śrī Kṛṣṇa, who is known as Govinda, is the Supreme Lord of all Lords. He has no origin, He is the origin of all, and He is the cause of all causes.\"]\n\nIn this verse Kṛṣṇa is called the Parameśvar [Supreme Lord]. If we do not know what an īśvar [lord] is, we will not be able to understand Kṛṣṇa's position as Parameśvar, the supreme īśvar. Śrīla Viśvanāth Chakravartī Ṭhākur explained the word īśvar: kartum akartum anyathā kartuṁ samarthaḥ: one who can do anything, can undo anything, and can change anything into anything else is an īśvar. All the different forms of the Lord are īśvaras: Nārāyaṇ, Viṣṇu, Matsya, Kūrma, Varāha, Vāman, Rāmachandra, and so on. Lord Śiva is also an īśvar. We can understand that Kṛṣṇa is above them all, because He is described not only as an īśvar, but as the parama-īśvar, the supreme īśvar. Kṛṣṇa is the Supreme Personality of Godhead and the Supreme Controller; everything is under His control, including all the īśvaras. Kṛṣṇa is most powerful. He is all-in-all, and He has all rights reserved over everything. He can do anything, everything, something, and nothing at any time. All power is within Him.\n\nKṛṣṇa is the one Reality, for Itself and by Itself. His position, activities, character, and all else exist exclusively for His satisfaction. Kṛṣṇa's qualification as Parameśvar, the Supreme Controller, is first. His position as sarva-kāraṇa-kāraṇam, the cause of all causes, is last. Everyone is always searching for the cause of everything, the central source of all activity. The answer is Kṛṣṇa: Kṛṣṇa is the origin of everything, everything transcendental and mundane. But Kṛṣṇa's position as the Supreme Controller is more important for us to understand. We will really begin to understand creation, existence, power, and eternity when we understand that Kṛṣṇa—Reality the Beautiful—is the Supreme Controller.\n\nBeauty is power\n\nna tasya kāryaṁ karaṇaṁ cha vidyate  \nna tat samaś chābhyadhikaś cha dṛśyate  \nparāsya śaktir vividhaiva śruyate  \nsvābhāvikī jñāna-bala-kriyā cha\n\n(Śvetāśvatara-upaniṣad: 6.8)\n\nThe Upaniṣads explain that Kṛṣṇa is the Parameśvar and that no one is equal to Him. As the Parameśvar, Kṛṣṇa can do anything and everything effortlessly through His divine power. This means that creation and everything else happen naturally through Kṛṣṇa's power and Kṛṣṇa is always in full control of everything, but that Kṛṣṇa Himself does not actually have to do anything.\n\nBhagavān Śrī Kṛṣṇa is known as Saśakti-śaktimān: the Supreme Powerful accompanied by His power. God means the Lord with His power. The Lord creates the universe with His power, and through His power everything everywhere takes place by His will. It is effortless for Him. But even more significant than creation, the Lord's divine beauty and divine play are manifest through His power. The most important expressions of Kṛṣṇa's power are His attractive beauty and sweet Pastimes, not His capacity to create the mundane world. Sarva-śaktiṁ rasābdhim: Kṛṣṇa's qualities of being all-attractive, beautiful, and loving (rasābdhiṁ) are greater than His qualification of being all-powerful (sarva-śaktiṁ). The highest form of power (sarva-śaktiṁ) is beauty (rasa). Kṛṣṇa's quality of being all-powerful actually means that He is all-attractive—infinitely beautiful.\n\nŚrīla Guru Mahārāj used to say, \"Beauty is the controlling principle. Beauty is controlling everything.\" Through Śrīla Guru Mahārāj we can understand that Kṛṣṇa's very nature as 'Kṛṣṇa', which means 'all-attractive', automatically shows us that He is most powerful. We can also understand that the great examples of Kṛṣṇa's power within His creation are clues about how intensely attractive and beautiful Kṛṣṇa Himself is. This is why it is most important to understand that Kṛṣṇa is the Parameśvar, the Supreme Controller. Such understanding gives us consciousness about the divine significance of beauty everywhere, about how, why, and in which way creation is existing and moving under the influence of beauty. Kṛṣṇa's nature as the all-powerful Supreme Controller is actually understood only by experiencing His beauty. Through His beauty one will best and most fully experience His infinite power. This is the Kṛṣṇa conception of divinity.\nChapter Five   \nThe Emporium of All Rasa\n\nŚrīla Rūpa Goswāmī Prabhu has explained scientifically the supreme position of Bhagavān Śrī Kṛṣṇa. He explains that the jīva-souls, who are finite parts and parcels of Kṛṣṇa, share fifty qualities (guṇas) with Kṛṣṇa. Kṛṣṇa is infinite and the jīva-souls are finite. The jīva-souls share fifty qualities with Kṛṣṇa in a finite way, that is, fifty of Kṛṣṇa's qualities can be found within them to the extent that Kṛṣṇa empowers them.\n\nThe demigods like Śiva, Indra, Chandra, Vāyu, Varuṇ, and so on share fifty-five qualities with Kṛṣṇa. Nārāyaṇ and Kṛṣṇa's various Avatārs share sixty qualities with Kṛṣṇa. But Kṛṣṇa has four special, extremely wonderful qualities that He alone possesses—qualities that Lord Nārāyaṇ, Lord Viṣṇu, Lord Rāma, and so on do not possess. Because of these exceptional qualities, Kṛṣṇa is the supreme worshippable Lord, the Supreme Personality of Godhead. Śrīmad Bhāgavatam says,\n\nete chāṁśa-kalāḥ puṁsaḥ kṛṣṇas tu bhagavān svayam\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam: 1.3.28)\n\n\"There are infinite forms and expansions of the Lord, but Kṛṣṇa is Svayam Bhagavān, the Supreme Personality of Godhead, the original and topmost form of the Lord. Everything comes from Him.\"\n\nŚrīla Jīva Goswāmī explained that the word Bhagavān means bhajanīya-guṇa-viśiṣṭa: He who has the most worshippable and attractive qualities. Because Kṛṣṇa has the most transcendental qualities, more than the demigods and all other forms of the Lord, He is supreme. Kṛṣṇa's Name, Form, Fame, and Pastimes are all supreme.\n\nThe Infinite\n\nKṛṣṇa is the supreme, original form of the Lord, but for Pastimes and creation Kṛṣṇa appears in a variety of forms.\n\noṁ pūrṇam adaḥ pūrṇam idaṁ pūrṇāt pūrṇam udachyate  \npūrṇasya pūrṇam ādāya pūrṇam evāvaśiṣyate\n\n(Bṛhad-āraṇyaka-upaniṣad: 5.1.1)\n\n\"Kṛṣṇa is infinite. He has infinite forms, and His infinite forms are all infinite. If you subtract anything from the infinite it is still infinite. Kṛṣṇa's infinite character is always naturally full, and all of Kṛṣṇa's expansions are also full. And still Kṛṣṇa is the Supreme Personality of Godhead, the most worshippable, original Lord.\"\n\nThe spiritual world where Kṛṣṇa lives eternally is called Vaikuṇṭhaloka or Paravyoma Dhām. There, infinite eternally manifest forms of Kṛṣṇa live within Their own abodes. We cannot conceive of this with our mundane intelligence. The Lord lives in the spiritual world in infinite different forms, each with His own paraphernalia, associates, and abode. All these forms of the Lord are known as Viṣṇu-tattva. Lord Nārāyaṇ is an expansion of Kṛṣṇa who lives with His consort Lakṣmī Devī in Vaikuṇṭhaloka and enjoys unlimited power and opulence as He is gloriously worshipped by His associates with great majesty eternally.\n\nVaikuṇṭha means vigata kuṇṭha yasmād: Vaikuṇṭhaloka has the power to appear anywhere; it is infinite and can immediately take a position within the finite realm by the Lord's will. Nārāyaṇ has many Avatārs. Mahāviṣṇu, the maintainer of the whole material creation, is an Avatār of Nārāyaṇ; Garbhodakaśāyī Viṣṇu, the maintainer of this universe, is an Avatār of Nārāyaṇ; and Kṣīrodakaśāyī Viṣṇu, the maintainer of every jīva-soul, is an Avatār of Nārāyaṇ. These Puruṣ-avatārs expand down from Nārāyaṇ to maintain the material creation.\n\nThe Lord's purpose\n\nThere are also other types of Avatārs that come down from Nārāyaṇ. There are the Līlā-avatārs: Matsya, Kūrma, Varāha, Vāman, Nṛsiṁha, and so on. These forms of the Lord appear within the material universe but also have eternal abodes in Vaikuṇṭhaloka. There are also Yuga-avatārs, forms of the Lord who distribute the dharma of an age; and Śaktyāveś-avatārs, empowered jīva-souls who fulfil the Lord's will. There are so many different types of Avatārs that come down to this material world from Lord Nārāyaṇ.\n\nyadā yadā hi dharmasya glānir bhavati bhārata  \nabhyutthānam adharmasya tadātmānaṁ sṛjāmy aham  \nparitrāṇāya sādhūnāṁ vināśāya cha duṣkṛtām  \ndharma-saṁsthāpanārthāya sambhavāmi yuge yuge\n\n(Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā: 4.7-8)\n\n\"Whenever irreligion takes the place of religion and religion becomes disturbed, suppressed, or polluted, different forms of the Lord appear to rescue the conditioned jīva-souls and give nourishment to the sādhus. The Lord's Avatārs come to make peace in the world, re-establish the religion of the soul, and perform Their play for Their own purpose.\"\n\nThe Lord does not only appear once in this world. He appears many, many times to fulfil His various purposes. Sometimes persons learn something about one form of the Lord and through that think they know everything about the Lord. The idea may come to them, \"I am a Kṛṣṇa-bhakta. I do not want to see the face of a Nṛsiṁhadev-bhakta. I do not want to see the face of a Rāma-bhakta.\" This is not the proper understanding. It is a lack of real knowledge actually.\n\nReally it is very good to praise other religions. By having respect for other religions we can make a proper comparative study of theism. That is very good. It is very good to know why we practise Kṛṣṇa consciousness. There are so many demigods and so many forms of the Lord. We respect the son of God, his Father in Heaven, and everything. But why do we worship Kṛṣṇa, the Supreme Personality of Godhead? It is necessary to understand this.\n\nThe Lord of the Vedic culture\n\nLord Rāmachandra is a very famous Avatār of the Lord who appeared in the Tretā-yuga to re-establish the Vedic religion within the mundane world. Everywhere, everyone knows of Lord Rāmachandra's great character. All over India everyone is very enthusiastic to chant, \"Jaya Rāma!\" His character is described in gist-form in Śrīmad Bhāgavatam by Vedavyās, and in the Rāmāyaṇa it is described in a grand way. There are so many stories about Lord Rāmachandra's great character, but the vital point of all of them is that He is Maryādā Puruṣottam: He appeared to establish the Vedic religion, and His Pastimes were guided by the regulations of Vedic religion. All of His actions and His character were perfectly organised and moral. He set the example of the perfect practice of vidhi, the rules and regulations of the Vedic religion. His speciality was that He accepted only one wife (eka-patnī-vrata-dharo). Through His character and example Lord Rāmachandra re-established the Vedic dharma.\n\nThe Lord of love and play\n\nLord Rāmachandra's character is so great, but it is completely different from Lord Kṛṣṇa's character. Lord Rāmachandra is known as Maryādā Puruṣottam, and Kṛṣṇa is known as Līlā Puruṣottam. Kṛṣṇa's Pastimes focus on love and play; for that reason Kṛṣṇa is known as Līlā Puruṣottam. When the Lord appears as Rāmachandra He follows the rules of the Vedas perfectly, to the extreme. That is the character of Maryādā Puruṣottam. But when Kṛṣṇa appears to taste the love of His devotees, He sometimes does not follow the restrictions of the Vedic religion at all. Still, both Rāmachandra and Kṛṣṇa are Puruṣottam, forms of the Supreme Lord.\n\nWe must understand that Kṛṣṇa is always the Supreme Personality of Godhead. He never loses His supreme position. Even if He does not follow the Vedic religion that He Himself establishes in the world in His other Avatārs, He is still the Supreme Lord. We can understand this through the example of Bhīṣmadev. Bhīṣmadev had perfect moral character. It is beyond even doubt that Bhīṣmadev could make any Vedic moral transgression. He was respected by everyone in the Vedic society as a Mahājan, a great, exemplary soul. Everyone everywhere knew of him and respected him. In large assemblies of kings, brāhmaṇs, and dignitaries, everyone would give first honour to Bhīṣmadev. Everyone considered Bhīṣmadev to have the highest dignity. But that Bhīṣmadev gives full honour and obeisance to Kṛṣṇa.\n\nOnce when Kṛṣṇa came to an assembly of many great persons in which Bhīṣmadev was the guest of honour, Bhīṣmadev stood and said, \"When Kṛṣṇa is present here, He must receive first honour from everyone. He is more worshippable than anyone.\" Then Bhīṣmadev offered a flower to Kṛṣṇa's lotus feet in front of everyone. At that time Kṛṣṇa had so many wives, so many girlfriends, and so many things. Through Bhīṣmadev's example everyone accepted that Kṛṣṇa is Lord Kṛṣṇa and He can do anything and everything.\n\nVidhi-mārg and rāga-mārg\n\nThere is a great difference between the worship of Nārāyaṇ and His Avatārs, and the worship of Kṛṣṇa. There are so many religious teachings in the world. It is very rare to get Kṛṣṇa consciousness.\n\nThe Vedic religion's main teaching is that you must be pious; you must follow the rules and regulations (vidhi) of the Vedas for proper social and religious life. The Vedic religion teaches that if your character and behaviour is very clean then you can worship and satisfy the Lord. Respect is ninety per cent of Vedic worship. Vedic religion enables you to respectfully worship the Lord in His form as Rāma, Nṛsiṁha, Nārāyaṇ, or otherwise. Through mantram and many instruments of worship you can offer your devotion from a distance to the Lord according to the proper rules and regulations.\n\nThe worship of Kṛṣṇa is very different from the formal worship of Vedic religion. To worship Kṛṣṇa you must offer pure love, affection, and the hankering of your transcendental soul. Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu taught this process and mood of worship, which is known as rāga-mārg. The speciality of Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu's religion is love and affection. That is the only property used for worship in the line of Kṛṣṇa consciousness. Through attachment to Kṛṣṇa, love and affection for Him develop. Love and affection are most attractive to Kṛṣṇa, and as one's love and affection for Him grow more and more, Kṛṣṇa becomes more and more satisfied. If someone has love and affection for Kṛṣṇa, then anything and everything they do will be satisfying to Him. Any soul with that type of transcendental property is most fortunate. Persons who prefer vidhi-mārg like to worship Lord Rāmachandra, or Lord Nārāyaṇ, or other Avatārs of the Lord, but persons who prefer the mood of love and affection for the Lord, rāga-mārg, must be attracted to Kṛṣṇa.\n\nIn this way we can understand Kṛṣṇa to be the Supreme Personality of Godhead—Reality the Beautiful. Everything we desire we can find fully within Kṛṣṇa. We want charm, beauty, love, affection, and ecstasy; we want success in our lives. All of these are fully present and alive within Kṛṣṇa consciousness. All ecstatic activity is found in full in the Kṛṣṇa conception. If we will try to search for a reason to serve and worship Kṛṣṇa, then the answer will come that everything we need is fully manifested in an effulgent way in Kṛṣṇa consciousness. In Kṛṣṇa consciousness we will find everything that we need, so we must worship Kṛṣṇa.\n\nWhat do we really need? We do not need awe or reverence; we need happiness. We need joy. We need beauty. We need love. We are searching for these qualities; birth after birth we are trying to search for these essential things. We need eternal existence, harmony, and the nectar of love, beauty, charm, and sweetness. If we search for these things, we will find that all of them are fully present in the Kṛṣṇa conception. In no other God consciousness and in no other God conception are they fully present. The Rāmachandra conception, the Nārāyaṇ conception, the Baladev conception, all the other Avatārs of Kṛṣṇa—none of Them can give us the same rasa, the same ecstatic relationship with the Lord.\n\nThe emporium of all ecstasy\n\nWhy do I say, \"No other\"? There is a reason. If you search within the Kṛṣṇa conception, you will find the sonhood of Godhead—the supreme worshippable Lord manifest in a lovingly playful, youthful form surrounded by all five possible relationships (rasas) with the jīva-souls: śānta [attachment], dāsya [servitorship], sakhya [friendship], vātsalya [affectionate guardianship], and madhura [intimate love]. In other conceptions you may find relationships with God like the fatherhood of Godhead or servitorship to Godhead. We see that there are many other types of relationships with God. But according to rasa-vichār, the science of divine relationships, the sonhood of Godhead is the best.\n\nThe Supreme Lord's position is that He is the supreme controller of everything. But if that Supreme Lord can also be controlled by love and affection, that is an even more glorious position. Why? A father bears the burden of maintaining his children. If a father has no guardian, he has to maintain himself and also bear the burden of maintaining his children. A master must maintain his servants. A friend must care for his friends. But a son can have everything; he can have all types of relationships. When a son has a guardian then he can even do wrong and still be protected. If the Absolute Lord performs His Pastimes in a youthful form, He can enjoy all possible relationships. He can have a father or guardian, and under their care He can simply play and enjoy. When the Lord assumes the form of a son, His Pastimes become the Sweet Absolute.\n\nKṛṣṇa is known as Vrajendra Nandan, the son of the king of Vṛndāvan. Kṛṣṇa has a father and guardian, so He Himself can play; He can be worry-free. That is the most worshippable Sweet Absolute Reality—where Kṛṣṇa, the Supreme Personality of Godhead, is always playfully situated in the centre of everything.\n\nWhen the Lord has the youthful form of a son, then all relationships are possible with Him. He can have a father, a mother, brothers, servants, friends, and girlfriends; He can have everything. As a son, Kṛṣṇa can be served from every corner in all different types of loving, affectionate relationships (rasas), and He can give ecstasy and joy to the heart of everyone. That is full-fledged theism, and only in such a conception is all beauty, charm, and ecstasy beautifully playing. Kṛṣṇa is the most beautiful and extremely merciful. So much charm, love, and harmony are existing within the ecstatic Lord of the Kṛṣṇa conception.\n\nSo many different ecstatic feelings all merge together within Kṛṣṇa consciousness. The jīva-souls feel unlimited happiness through that. It is inconceivable but still it comes to them, and the process is a very sweet process. Śānta, dāsya, sakhya, vātsalya, and madhura rasas are the five kinds of relationships with Kṛṣṇa. All are ecstatic; all are filled with loveliness, happiness, sweetness, beauty, and everything. To describe these Śrīla Rūpa Goswāmī and Śrīla Kṛṣṇadās Kavirāj Goswāmī use the word chamatkāra [astonishing]. Because all rasas are manifest in full with only the divine form of Kṛṣṇa, Kṛṣṇa is described as the Akhila-rasāmṛta-mūrti: emporium of all rasa.\n\nKṛṣṇa's super-excellent qualities\n\nŚrīla Rūpa Goswāmī has explained the four special, extremely wonderful qualities that Kṛṣṇa, the son of Nanda Mahārāj, alone possesses—the qualities that Lord Nārāyaṇ, Lord Viṣṇu, Lord Rāma, and so on do not possess. These are the qualities that distinguish Kṛṣṇa as Svayam Bhagavān, the most worshippable personality of Godhead.\n\nsarvādbhuta-chamatkāra-līlā-kallola-vāridhiḥ  \natulya-madhura-prema-maṇḍita-priya-maṇḍalaḥ  \ntri-jagan-mānasākarṣi-muralī-kala-kūjitaḥ  \nasamānordhva-rūpa-śrī-vismāpita-charācharaḥ\n\n(Śrī Bhakti-rasāmṛta-sindhu: Dakṣiṇa-vibhāga, 141–2)\n\nSarvādbhuta-chamatkāra-līlā-kallola-vāridhiḥ: the first quality is that the Pastimes of Bhagavān Śrī Kṛṣṇa are like an ocean filled with dancing waves that stun and astonish everyone.\n\nAtulya-madhura-prema-maṇḍita-priya-maṇḍalaḥ: the second quality is that in His Pastimes Kṛṣṇa is always surrounded by His associates, the super sweet, sweet gopīs, gopa-bālakas, and other residents of Vṛndāvan Dhām, whose hearts and souls have full, unequalled dedication to Him in five kinds of relationships led by madhura-rasa.\n\nTri-jagan-mānasākarṣi-muralī-kala-kūjitaḥ: the third quality is that Kṛṣṇa attracts the minds of everyone within the transcendental and mundane universes and enters the hearts of His devotees with the melodious vibration of His flute. Śrīla Guru Mahārāj explained that Om and gāyatrī come from Kṛṣṇa's flute song and that when He plays the flute, Kṛṣṇa sings the glories of Śrīmatī Rādhārāṇī (Rādhā-padaṁ dhīmahi).\n\nAsamānordhva-rūpa-śrī-vismāpita-charācharaḥ: the fourth quality is that the personal beauty (śrī, saundarya) of Kṛṣṇa's divine form is beyond compare. All moving and nonmoving living entities are astonished and faint to behold the beauty of Kṛṣṇa's divine form.\n\nŚrīla Rūpa Goswāmī Prabhu described Kṛṣṇa's four super-excellent qualities in this way. Among these four topmost qualities of Kṛṣṇa the final quality of His supremely attractive form is the highest. Śrīla Kṛṣṇadās Kavirāj Goswāmī said, bhūṣaṇera bhūṣaṇa aṅga. This means that nothing is more beautiful than Kṛṣṇa's transcendental form: Kṛṣṇa's form beautifies even the ornaments He wears—Kṛṣṇa's divine form is the ornament on His ornaments.\n\nWe hear definitively that even Kṛṣṇa Himself is maddened by the beauty of His form. When Kṛṣṇa stands in front of a mirror, He forgets Himself and attempts to embrace His image in the mirror. He becomes mugdha, melted and astonished, to see His divine form. Kṛṣṇa showed this to be true by His appearance as Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu. Kṛṣṇa is the reservoir of all beauty, and He Himself becomes mad to see His beauty. That is the incomparable quality and qualification of Kṛṣṇa. No one can compare with the beauty of Kṛṣṇa's divine form or the love and charm flowing throughout His Pastimes.\n\nIrreversible vision\n\nŚrīla Rūpa Goswāmī Prabhu also expressed His own vision of Kṛṣṇa's divine form:\n\nsmerāṁ bhaṅgī-traya-parichitāṁ sāchi-vistīrṇa-dṛṣṭiṁ  \nvaṁśī-nyastādhara-kiśalayām ujjvalāṁ chandrakeṇa  \ngovindākhyāṁ hari-tanum itaḥ keśi-tīrthopakaṇṭhe  \nmā prekṣiṣṭhās tava yadi sakhe bandhu-saṅge 'sti raṅgaḥ\n\n(Śrī Bhakti-rasāmṛta-sindhu: Pūrva-vibhāga, 2.239)\n\nŚrīla Bhakti Vinod Ṭhākur explained this verse: \"If you have any attachment to staying within your circle of friends and enjoying mundane life, do not go to Keshi Ghat to see Śrī Govinda's divine form, which is the reservoir of all beauty. If you see His divine form attractively bent in three places, His stunning eyes, and His face glowing in the moonshine as He plays His flute, you will become completely enchanted and you will not be able to leave. You will never be able to return to the so-called pleasures of material life. It may be better for you not to go there.\"\n\nŚrīla Rūpa Goswāmī Prabhu expressed his vision of Kṛṣṇa in this verse. It is his own vision. When we hear this verse we can feel something, maybe 0.1 per cent of Śrīla Rūpa Goswāmī's divine realisation. We cannot actually conceive of it. Śrīla Rūpa Goswāmī Prabhu can express it and we can simply try to harmonise with his feelings.\n\nThe divinity of the human form\n\nLord Brahmā also saw the divine form of Kṛṣṇa and expressed his vision with His verse:\n\nīśvaraḥ paramaḥ kṛṣṇaḥ sach-chid-ānanda-vigrahaḥ  \nanādir ādir govindaḥ sarva-kāraṇa-kāraṇam\n\n(Śrī Brahma-saṁhitā: 5.1)\n\nIn this first verse of Brahma-saṁhitā we see the real form of Lord Kṛṣṇa expressed. This verse describes Kṛṣṇa's aprākṛta form, His supramundane form, in which He plays with the cows, cowherd boys, and gopīs in His eternal abode of Vṛndāvan in five kinds of relationships. Śrīla Kṛṣṇadās Kavirāj Goswāmī also described this form:\n\nkṛṣṇera yateka khelā, sarvottama nara-līlā,  \nnara-vapu tāhāra svarūpa  \ngopa-veśa, veṇu-kara, nava-kiśora, naṭa-vara,  \nnara-līlāra haya anurūpa\n\nkṛṣṇera madhura rūpa, śuna, sanātana  \nye rūpera eka kaṇa, ḍubāya saba tribhuvana,  \nsarva prāṇī kare ākarṣaṇa\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Madhya-līlā, 21.101–102)\n\n[\"The best of all of Kṛṣṇa's Pastimes are His human-like Pastimes. His human-like form is His original form. His cowherd boy dress, flute-playing, adolescence, and superb dancing perfectly suit His human-like Pastimes. How beautiful is Kṛṣṇa's human-like form? One drop of its beauty floods the whole of the three worlds and attracts every living entity within them.\"]\n\nKṛṣṇa's original form is like that of a human, like that of our own relative. The human form is the Lord's original form and is the Sweet Absolute. When this is understood, then we can harmonise everything with that Reality. Without this realisation it is very difficult to harmonise so much of our worldly experience. The Pastimes of Kṛṣṇa can harmonise everything. Evaṁ sva-chitte svata eva siddha (SB: 2.2.6): when Kṛṣṇa's transcendental Pastimes reveal themselves in our hearts we will understand everything perfectly.\n\nThe rising of the divine sun\n\nKṛṣṇa appeared in His human-like form here in this mundane world like the other Avatārs, but Kṛṣṇa's divine human-like form, Reality the Beautiful, is eternally present in the spiritual realm of Goloka Vṛndāvan. In Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā Kṛṣṇa said to Arjuna:\n\njanma karma cha me divyam evaṁ yo vetti tattvataḥ  \ntyaktvā dehaṁ punar janma naiti mām eti so 'rjuna\n\n(Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā: 4.9)\n\n\"Arjuna, My birth and death in this world are not like the birth and death of ordinary human persons. I show Myself to be like them when I appear, but actually I existed before I appeared in this world and continue to exist after I disappear. My form and appearance are divyam [divine].\"\n\nDivyam means aprākṛtam. Aprākṛtam means that Lord Kṛṣṇa's divine form appears like an ordinary man's form, but it is actually not made of anything mundane. Kṛṣṇa's form is a transcendental form which is perfect, positive, and eternally existent in Goloka Vṛndāvan, the highest plane within Vaikuṇṭhaloka. Anyone who understands Lord Kṛṣṇa's divine form and appearance in this way will be liberated from birth and death. It is necessary to properly understand that His appearance and disappearance are not like the birth and death of mankind. They are like the rising and setting of the sun. The sun does not die when it crosses the horizon. It simply disappears from our vision temporarily and then reappears later. Anyone who understands Kṛṣṇa's divine appearance and disappearance in this way is liberated and attains the service of Lord Kṛṣṇa in the transcendental world.\n\nKṛṣṇa gave this knowledge to the world in Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā. We must honour and worship everything about Lord Kṛṣṇa as transcendental. There is nothing mundane about His Name, Form, Qualities, Pastimes, and Associates. The scriptures have cautioned us about this.\n\nviṣṇau sarveśvareśe tad-itara-sama-dhīr yasya vā nārakī saḥ\n\n(Padma-purāṇa)\n\n\"If we think Sarveśvar Viṣṇu, the Lord of everything, is an ordinary person, then our understanding will be imperfect and that will take us to a hellish condition.\"\n\nBy the grace of the scriptures, our Gurus, and the sādhus, we must think: \"The birth and death of Lord Kṛṣṇa are not like that of an ordinary human. They are transcendental. Kṛṣṇa's form is transcendental and eternal. Īśvaraḥ Paramaḥ Kṛṣṇaḥ Sach-chid-ānanda-vigrahaḥ. Kṛṣṇa is the Supreme Personality of Godhead, He is the Creator of all creation, and He has an eternal divine form.\"\n\nThe sonhood of Godhead\n\nŚrīla Rūpa Goswāmī Prabhu has explained step by step how the play of Śrī Kṛṣṇa the Sweet Absolute is supreme according to rasa-vichār, the science of spiritual relationships.\n\nvaikuṇṭhāj janito varā madhu-purī tatrāpi rāsotsavād  \nvṛndāraṇyam udāra-pāṇi-ramaṇāt tatrāpi govardhanaḥ  \nrādhā-kuṇḍam ihāpi gokula-pateḥ premāmṛtāplāvanāt  \nkuryād asya virājato giri-taṭe sevāṁ vivekī na kaḥ\n\n(Śrī Upadeśāmṛta: 9)\n\nThis verse is very famous. It is very small, but it fully describes the position and gist of all the Pastimes of Lord Kṛṣṇa. Vaikuṇṭha, the abode of Lord Nārāyaṇ, is infinite. In His opulent Pastimes in Vaikuṇṭhaloka, Lord Nārāyaṇ eternally exists as the worshippable Deity, and all His servitors serve Him there forever, from a respectful distance.\n\nŚrīla Rūpa Goswāmī Prabhu explains that in Vaikuṇṭha there is no janita, birth, of the Lord. This means that Lord Nārāyaṇ has no mother or father. Thus Madhupurī—Mathurā Vṛndāvan—is superior to Vaikuṇṭhaloka because there the Lord manifests His transcendental Pastimes of birth and childhood. When the Lord takes birth and plays as a boy, His Pastimes are more exalted and transcendentally glorious. Why? Because the full range of relationships are possible with Him.\n\nKṛṣṇa's Pastimes manifest the full range of relationships: śānta [attachment], dāsya [servitorship], sakhya [friendship], vātsalya [affectionate guardianship], and madhura [intimate love]. Lord Rāmachandra's Pastimes also include birth, so His Pastimes are more elevated than those of Lord Nārāyaṇ. But Kṛṣṇa's Pastimes have something more than Lord Rāmachandra's Pastimes. That is parakīya-rasa, paramour love. Paramour love is found only within Lord Kṛṣṇa's Pastimes.\n\nLord Rāmachandra's nature and character is to always follow the Vedic religion. In Lord Rāmachandra's Pastimes the full range of rasas are present, but their movement is controlled by the rulings of the Vedas. In Lord Rāmachandra's Pastimes the full freedom of rasa does not show itself in an effulgent way. Up to dāsya-rasa Lord Rāmachandra's Pastimes are so nice. Dāsya-rasa is firm and full in Lord Rāmachandra's Pastimes. Sakhya-rasa, vātsalya-rasa, and madhura-rasa are suppressed in His Pastimes. Sītā Devī is Rāmachandra's wife, but Her mood is, \"I am a servant of Rāmachandra.\" The tendency of all of Rāmachandra's associates—His wife Sītā Devī, His father Daśarath, His mother Kauśalyā, and so on—is to consider themselves servants of Rāmachandra.\n\nThis means that the madhura-rasa in Lord Rāmachandra's Pastimes moves only according to the respectful mood taught in the Vedas. Lord Rāmachandra set the example of Vedic dharma and accepted only one wife. His quality is that He has only one consort. Thus there is no opportunity for the jīva-souls to become consorts of Lord Rāmachandra. He will not accept anyone else but Sītā Devī as His wife. But the Lord is so beautiful and attractive that we hanker to see His beauty and naturally feel that we want to be His consort. As Rāmachandra, the Lord will not accept us in that way; but as Kṛṣṇa, the Lord will. Kṛṣṇa is the form in which the Lord will accept us not only as His wives but as His paramour lovers. Kṛṣṇa has 16,108 wives, and, more than that, He has millions of girlfriends.\n\nKṛṣṇa is the emporium of all rasa; the full range of relationships are possible with Him. In Vṛndāvan, Kṛṣṇa takes birth. He accepts service in vātsalya-rasa and tatrāpi rāsotsavād: He sports in the paramour love of madhura-rasa in the rāsa-līlā, His dancing Pastimes with His girlfriends. And when Kṛṣṇa performs the rāsa-līlā, He does not enjoy paramour love with only a small group: Kṛṣṇa plays with millions of gopīs in this way. Kṛṣṇa has that capacity.\n\nKṛṣṇa is Supreme and everything is under His control, but as Vrajendra Nandan, in the play of the sonhood of Godhead, Kṛṣṇa is worry-free and simply enjoys unlimitedly. That is the full-fledged theism found in Kṛṣṇa consciousness. In His supreme divine form of Kṛṣṇa the Lord shows His supreme nature through His capacity to enjoy.\n\nrāya kahe,—kṛṣṇa haya 'dhīra-lalita'  \nnirantara kāma-krīḍā—yā̐hāra charita\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Madhya-līlā, 8.187)\n\nThis is a wonderful expression found within the Rāmānanda-saṁvād of Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta. There Rāmānanda Rāy says that Kṛṣṇa's nature is dhīra-lalita, which means He is always in the beautiful ecstatic mood of śṛṅgāra-rasa [madhura-rasa], and He has no job other than enjoying with the gopīs. Nirantara, without ever stopping, Kṛṣṇa playfully enjoys, spreads His Pastimes, and accepts the service of His beloved devotees.\n\nInconceivable sweetness\n\nThis is the divine conception of Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu, and He taught that it is the gist of Śrīmad Bhāgavatam.\n\nārādhyo bhagavān vrajeśa-tanayas tad-dhāma vṛndāvanam  \nramyā kāchid upāsanā vraja-vadhū-vargeṇā va kalpitā  \nśrīmad-bhāgavataṁ pramāṇam amalaṁ premā pumartho mahān  \nśrī-chaitanya-mahāprabhor matam idaṁ tatrādaraḥ naḥ paraḥ\n\n(Śrīla Viśvanāth Chakravartī Ṭhākur)\n\n\"The worshippable, desirable goal of our life is the service of the Supreme Personality of Godhead in His divine form of Vrajendra Nandan Kṛṣṇa, who is manifest in His abode of Vṛndāvan. All beauty, all charm, everything opulent, tasteful, and ecstatic is present within Kṛṣṇa's Vṛndāvan-līlā. Everything is there in Vṛndāvan: Vrajeśa Tanay Kṛṣṇa and His full love-play. Service there, in the mood of the Vraja-vadhūs, Kṛṣṇa's beloved girlfriends, is the supreme service, and that is our life's goal, that type of ecstatic love for Lord Kṛṣṇa.\"\n\nAll beauty, ecstasy, and everything is present within the Kṛṣṇa conception. Only Kṛṣṇa can be our heart and soul. The full-fledged conception of Kṛṣṇa consciousness is found in that Vrajendra Nandan Kṛṣṇa conception, the sonhood of Godhead. A great devotee, Guṇarāj Khā̐n, wrote a book named Śrī Kṛṣṇa-vijay. It begins:\n\n\"nanda-nandana kṛṣṇa—mora prāṇa-nātha\"  \nei vākye vikāinu tā̐ra vaṁśera hāta\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Madhya-līlā, 15.100)\n\n\"Nanda Nandan Kṛṣṇa is my heart and soul.\" Mahāprabhu Śrī Chaitanyadev was deeply attracted to this conception, and after hearing Guṇarāj Khā̐n's expression, Mahāprabhu was so charmed that He said, \"I consider Myself a slave of a dog from the house of Guṇarāj Khā̐n.\"\n\nRaghupati Upādhyāya also described the sonhood of Godhead to Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu:\n\nśrutim apare smṛtim itare bhāratam  \nanye bhajantu bhava-bhītāḥ  \naham iha nandaṁ vande  \nyasyālinde paraṁ brahma\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Madhya-līlā, 19.96)\n\n\"Those who are very fearful of this mundane environment can be that way. They can worship the śruti, smṛti, Mahābhārata, Vedas, Vedānta, Upaniṣads, and so on. I do not want to go that way. I do not see that as my necessity. I feel that all I need is Kṛṣṇa's mercy. I know that Kṛṣṇa plays in the courtyard of His father Nanda Mahārāj, so I feel I will receive Kṛṣṇa's mercy through Nanda Mahārāj. I feel that I need only to take the dust of Nanda Mahārāj's lotus feet on my head. By doing that I will surely receive Lord Kṛṣṇa's mercy.\"\n\nIn his verse, Raghupati Upādhyāya describes Kṛṣṇa as Parambrahma, the Supreme Absolute. Everyone already knows Kṛṣṇa is Parambrahma: Brahma-saṁhitā said it; Śrīmad Bhāgavatam said it; and Kṛṣṇa Himself said it everywhere in Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā. But who can conceive that that Kṛṣṇa, who is Parambrahma, plays in the courtyard of His father Nanda Mahārāj? Who can conceive that Mother Yaśomatī chastises Kṛṣṇa with a stick? That is the inconceivable beauty of the Sweet Absolute Reality of the Kṛṣṇa conception—the sonhood of Godhead.\n\nThe ocean of rasa\n\nRaghupati Upādhyāya later charmed Mahāprabhu with another verse. Kṛṣṇa does not have only one kind of divine form; He has three, one for each of the environments where He engages in His Pastimes (Dvārakā, Mathurā, and Vṛndāvan). The quality and qualification of Vṛndāvan Kṛṣṇa, the youthful, playful Kṛṣṇa, is supreme. Raghupati Upādhyāya said:\n\nśyāmam eva paraṁ rūpaṁ purī madhu-purī varā  \nvayaḥ kaiśorakaṁ dhyeyam ādya eva paro rasaḥ\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Madhya-līlā, 19.106)\n\n\"The divine form of Śyāmasundar Kṛṣṇa is the Lord's supreme form; Mathurā Vṛndāvan is the Lord's supreme abode; Kṛṣṇa's youthful form is the supreme form of worship, and ādi-rasa, madhura-rasa, is the supreme rasa.\"\n\nThe divine youthful form of Kṛṣṇa is the source of all rasa. All rasa comes from Him like Mana Sarovar, the lake in which the Ganges and all other sacred rivers are present. Kṛṣṇa is known as rasābdhi, the ocean of rasa, the ocean of nectar. The jīva-souls are so fortunate because they are tiny and can swim in the nectarean ocean of Śrī Kṛṣṇa's Pastimes.\n\nRasa has five principle styles—śānta, dāsya, sakhya, vātsalya, madhura—and seven kinds of secondary styles—hāsya [laughter], adbhuta [wonder], vīra [valour], karuṇa [sorrow], raudra [anger], bībhatsa [disgust], and bhay [fear]. In Kṛṣṇa's Pastimes all of these rasas swim together like baby fish happily playing together and kissing.\n\nThe origin of paramour love\n\nWhen time and fortune favourably come to us, we can enquire about rasa and our research will lead us to madhura-rasa. There are so many rasas but all rasas are present inside madhura-rasa. Śrīla Kṛṣṇadās Kavirāj Goswāmī explained:\n\nākāśādi guṇa yena para para bhūte  \neka-dui-tina-chāri krame pañcha pṛthivīte\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Madhya-līlā 19.233)\n\n\"As sky, air, fire, and water are present within earth, so all rasas—śānta, dāsya, sakhya, and vātsalya—are present within madhura-rasa.\"\n\nMadhura-rasa is the supreme ecstasy. It is sarva-rasa-samāhāra: the combined form of all rasas. We have heard that Kṛṣṇa is the Akhila-rasāmṛta-mūrti—the emporium of all rasa—the concentrated form of all rasa, but, more than this general idea, we can understand that because all rasas are fully present within madhura-rasa, Kṛṣṇa being described as the Akhila-rasāmṛta-mūrti means that He is Śṛṅgāra-rasa mūrtimān: the concentrated form of madhura-rasa in paramour love.\n\nAll the scriptures have said this also, and that is a miracle! Vedavyās began the Vedānta-darśana with the sūtras, \"Athāto Brahma jijñāsā: search for Brahma\", and \"Janmādy asya Yataḥ: He—Pūrṇabrahma Kṛṣṇa—is the source of everything\". Then he wrote, \"Ānandamayo 'bhyāsāt: He, Kṛṣṇa, is ānandamaya, the Sach-chid-ānanda-vigrahaḥ: the embodiment of truth, consciousness, and ecstasy.\" So the Vedānta-darśana begins by telling us, \"Lord Kṛṣṇa is ānandamaya: He is the reservoir of all ecstasy, and we can find our full nourishment in Him.\" Then Vedavyās said, raso vai Saḥ: \"He is rasa; Kṛṣṇa is rasa\". So Kṛṣṇa is the Creator of all creation (janmādy asya Yataḥ), with rasa, with sweetness. In other words, it is Kṛṣṇa the emporium of all rasa who is the Creator of all creation. This means that it is His manifestation—Kṛṣṇa the Sweet Absolute's manifestation—that is everywhere! It is the play of the Divine Couple, Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa, that is the origin of everything; it is Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa's play that is overflooded all over the transcendental and material worlds. This is the real meaning of janmādy asya Yataḥ, \"That from which everything comes.\" It is necessary for us to realise this and connect with it.\n\nThe Divine Couple\n\nThe play of Kṛṣṇa, the supreme Powerful, with His supreme Power, Rādhārāṇī, is eternally going on in Goloka Vṛndāvan, the highest plane within Vaikuṇṭhaloka. Kṛṣṇa and His Power are nondifferent, Saśakti-śaktimān, but Kṛṣṇa divided Himself from His Power for the purpose of līlā, Pastimes. He divided His Power from Himself for His own satisfaction and play. So the phrase 'Supreme Personality of Godhead' means Kṛṣṇa the all-powerful with His Power (Rādhārāṇī).\n\nThe Powerful and His Power are nondifferent. We cannot differentiate Them just as we cannot differentiate the sun from its heat and light. Kṛṣṇa, the Powerful, is always depending upon His Power. Without His Power, the Powerful does not have His existence; He does not have His play. He is like a dry battery with no charge. We have heard Śuka and Śārī, the parrots of Vṛndāvan, debating:\n\nśuka bali āmāra kṛṣṇa giridhārī chhila  \nśārī bali āmāra rādhā śakti sañcharila\n\nŚuka said, \"My Kṛṣṇa lifted Govardhan Hill.\"\n\nŚārī replied, \"It is only because Rādhārāṇī gave Her power to Kṛṣṇa that Kṛṣṇa was powerful enough to lift Govardhan Hill.\"\n\nIn this way we understand the position of Kṛṣṇa, the Supreme Personality of Godhead, as Saśakti-śaktimān: Kṛṣṇa, the Powerful, who depends on His Power, Rādhārāṇī.\n\nThe Divine Couple has been described very concisely and conclusively by Śrīla Kṛṣṇadās Kavirāj Goswāmī in a full-fledged way in the eighth chapter of the Madhya-līlā of Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta. There the full-fledged theism of Kṛṣṇa consciousness is exposed. The position of Kṛṣṇa and the position of Rādhārāṇī has been fully described for us. There Mahāprabhu Śrī Chaitanyadev asked Rāmānanda Rāy many questions, and the supreme conclusion of worship of the Divine Couple Śrī Śrī Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa was revealed. Śrīla Svarūp Dāmodar has explained this concisely for us,\n\nrādhā kṛṣṇa-praṇaya-vikṛtir hlādinī śaktir asmād  \nekātmānāv api bhuvi purā deha-bhedaṁ gatau tau\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Ādi-līlā, 1.5)\n\n\"Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa are One, but They divided Themselves for Their divine play in madhura-rasa-līlā.\"\n\nThe clue to the whole of Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa's Pastimes is given here.\n\nrādhā-kṛṣṇa eka ātmā, dui deha dhari'  \nanyonye vilase rasa āsvādana kari'\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Ādi-līlā, 4.56)\n\nŚrīla Svarūp Dāmodar said, \"Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa ekātmā: Rādhā and Kṛṣṇa are One, that is, Saśakti-śaktimān, but They have divided into two forms for Their own divine play of paramour love.\"\n\nIf you say that Kṛṣṇa is śaktimān [powerful], then His śakti [power], Rādhārāṇī, is already with Him; otherwise He could not be śaktimān. Various forms of Kṛṣṇa sometimes appear in this mundane world, but if you will understand that the original Divine Form of Śrī Kṛṣṇa Himself is the cause of all causes, the Parameśvar, the Creator of all, who Himself has no creator, then you must see that it is Saśakti-śaktimān Kṛṣṇa—Śrī Kṛṣṇa with His śakti Rādhārāṇī—that is behind everything (janmādy asya Yataḥ).\n\nThe taste of nectar\n\nLike his Vedānta-darśana, Vedavyās began Śrīmad Bhāgavatam with the phrase janmādy asya Yataḥ. By doing this he showed that Śrīmad Bhāgavatam is a commentary on the Vedānta-darśana, though at the same time he also showed that Śrīmad Bhāgavatam starts from the platform of madhura-rasa.\n\nnigama-kalpa-taror galitaṁ phalaṁ  \nśuka-mukhād amṛta-drava-saṁyutam  \npibata bhāgavataṁ rasam ālayaṁ  \nmuhur aho rasikā bhuvi bhāvukāḥ\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam: 1.1.3)\n\nIf we think of the Vedas as a kalpa-taru, a wish-fulfilling tree, then Śrīmad Bhāgavatam is like their fruit. Galitaṁ phalam means Śrīmad Bhāgavatam is like a nicely ripened fruit without skin or seed. Its rasa, nectarean juice, is very sweet and palatable. It contains the gist of all transcendental ecstasy and all the Vedic scriptures. Pibata Bhāgavataṁ rasam ālayam: until death try to taste the Bhāgavat's rasa. Again and again it will be tasteful to you. You will always find new taste there—in the Divine Couple's eternal Pastimes.\nSection Three   \nThe Soul\n\nDaśa-mūla-tattva\n\nTruths Five, Six, and Seven:\n\ntad bhinnāṁsāṁś cha jīvān  \nprakṛti-kavalitān  \ntad-vimuktāṁś cha bhāvāt\n\nSouls are separated parts of Kṛṣṇa.  \nSome of them are captivated by māyā.  \nSome of them are liberated from māyā by devotion.\nChapter Six   \nThe Evolution of Consciousness\n\nLord Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu gave this consciousness to the world:\n\njīvera 'svarūpa' haya—kṛṣṇera 'nitya-dāsa'  \nkṛṣṇera 'taṭasthā-śakti' 'bhedābheda-prakāśa'  \nsūryāṁśa-kiraṇa, yaichhe agni-jvālā-chaya  \nsvābhāvika kṛṣṇera tina-prakāra 'śakti' haya\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Madhya-līlā, 20.108–9)\n\nKṛṣṇa is like a chit-sūrya, a great sun made of spiritual energy, and the jīva-souls are like rays of that spiritual sun. Just as the sun and the sun's rays are both different and nondifferent, Kṛṣṇa and the jīva-souls are simultaneously different and nondifferent. Śrīla Bhakti Vinod Ṭhākur said, \"Tad bhinnāṁsāṁś cha jīvān: the jīva-souls are distinct, finite parts of the infinite Lord.\" In this way the jīva-souls belong to the Lord. They come from the Lord's energy, His marginal potency (taṭasthā-śakti). The jīva-souls naturally have a subservient relationship with the Lord, that is, all jīva-souls are eternal servitors of their Lord, Śrī Kṛṣṇa. That is their natural identity. This is Mahāprabhu Śrī Chaitanyadev's primary teaching: the service of Kṛṣṇa is the true dharma of every jīva-soul.\n\nDivine energies\n\nThe jīva-souls are one of the Lord's three primary energies.\n\nviṣṇu-śaktiḥ parā proktā kṣetrajñākhyā tathā parā  \navidyā-karma-saṁjñānyā tṛtīyā śaktir iṣyate\n\n(Viṣṇu-purāṇa: 6.7.61)\n\nLord Kṛṣṇa's power has three divisions: His parā-śakti [internal spiritual energy]; His kṣetrajñā-śakti [marginal spiritual energy], which manifests the individual jīva-souls; and His aparā-śakti [material energy]. These three main potencies of Kṛṣṇa are also sometimes known by other names such as the antaraṅga-śakti, taṭasthā-śakti, and bahiraṅga-śakti. All of these energies are activated by Kṛṣṇa's will for His play and satisfaction.\n\nThe Divine Couple's transcendental play with Their paraphernalia, that is, all of Kṛṣṇa-līlā, is part of the chit-śakti [spiritual potency]. The jīva-souls come out from the taṭasthā-śakti for Kṛṣṇa's play and satisfaction, as well as the creation of the material world. The material environment and the bewilderment of the conditioned souls come from the māyā-śakti [material energy], which is like the Lord's shadow potency, a reflection of His spiritual energy (chit-śakti).\n\nThe jīva-souls are the Lord's marginal potency, taṭasthā-śakti. Taṭa means a shore, the area on the bank of a river between water and land. Taṭasthā-śakti means the Lord's energy that is situated on the margin between the spiritual and material energy, and can adapt to either environment.\n\nSearching for love\n\nQuestion: If \"not a blade of grass moves without the will of the Lord\", then do the jīva-souls have free will?\n\nŚrīla Govinda Mahārāj: Kṛṣṇa gives the jīva-souls some free will. Kṛṣṇa wants to see if the jīva-souls will willingly serve His divine lotus feet and dedicate themselves to Him. That is Kṛṣṇa's desire. He gives the jīva-souls free will and does not disturb it. This is because He wants to have a loving relationship with them, and love is not possible without free will. This is why Kṛṣṇa created His neutral śakti, the jīva-śakti: for the expansion of His loving Pastimes.\n\nThe jīva-soul's nature (dharma), given by Kṛṣṇa, is to have free will. Free will means consciousness. Consciousness means thinking, feeling, and willing. Every jīva-soul has these three capacities. And they are always active; the jīva-souls can never stop thinking, feeling, and willing. The jīva-souls are always pursuing something; by their nature they are always active and seeking.\n\nThe jīva-souls are part and parcel of the Supreme Personality of Godhead, Kṛṣṇa, who is the Sach-chid-ānanda-vigrahaḥ: the embodiment of eternity, consciousness, and ecstasy. This means the jīva-soul's nature is also sach-chid-ānanda, eternally existent, conscious, and ecstatic. The jīva-soul's existence is built by Kṛṣṇa's own existence, just as a sun-ray comes from the sun. The jīva-soul's thinking, feeling, and willing, the jīva-soul's conscious nature (chit), is always seeking the jīva-soul's positive nature—ānanda. This means that they are by nature searching for Kṛṣṇa, searching for the ecstasy, love, beauty, and charm that are present within Him.\n\nDivine magnetism\n\nThe jīva-souls feel whatever they do. Whenever the jīva-souls feel the presence of beauty they naturally want to dedicate themselves to that, to serve and worship the source of that beauty. This capacity and tendency for dedication is the actual function of the jīva-souls' conscious nature, of their thinking, feeling, and willing. We see that everywhere within all cultures people have a tendency to worship. Even jungle-men worship the sun, moon, and ocean, or the trees, mountains, caves, and so on. All jīva-souls' nature is to worship. It is existing within their consciousness. Pure devotional life, that is, pure attraction and service to beauty, is the actual nature, the actual dharma, of the jīva-souls.\n\nIt is within the nature of all jīva-souls to be attracted by the magnetic power of beauty. When a jīva-soul's whole existence is overcome by the attractive power of beauty, then the jīva-soul manifests its full nature as an eternal servant. The two syllables of the word Kṛṣ-ṇa mean ākarṣaṇa kare and ānanda dāna: Kṛṣṇa attracts the jīva-souls and gives ecstasy to them through His service. Kṛṣṇa is like a great attractive magnet and the jīva-souls, His parts and parcels, are like iron filings that are divinely attracted to Him. The jīva-souls are automatically attracted to Kṛṣṇa and His Pastimes in the transcendental world, and the jīva-souls feel naturally fulfilled in their relationship with Kṛṣṇa, that is, in Kṛṣṇa-bhakti. This is the sanātan-dharma, the jaiva-dharma, the eternal religion of all jīva-souls. Really religion is one, \"Dharmo yasyāṁ Mad-ātmakaḥ (SB: 11.14.3): all souls must be attracted to the divine sun, Śrī Kṛṣṇa, and serve Him with their full existence.\" This is the property of all jīva-souls. It is not anything mundane or made by humanity.\n\nEntering the illusory environment\n\nQuestion: How do the jīva-souls enter into the material nature?\n\nŚrīla Govinda Mahārāj: Whenever jīva-souls manifest within the marginal energy (taṭasthā-śakti), they mostly go to the side of the spiritual energy (chit-śakti). There they find the light of their positive spiritual existence in the company of their all-attractive Lord in the eternal world, Vaikuṇṭhaloka. Some unfortunate souls, however, come to the negative side, the māyā-śakti.\n\nkṛṣṇa bhuli' sei jīva anādi-bahirmukha  \nataeva māyā tāre deya saṁsāra-duḥkha\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Madhya-līlā, 20.117)\n\nSometimes jīva-souls, by their misfortune, jump into māyā [illusion] to attempt to enjoy material existence. When their vision, not seeing Kṛṣṇa, moves to the negative side, they see māyā, and immediately feel, \"Oh! There is great beauty! I can master and enjoy that energy.\" In this way unfortunate jīva-souls jump into the darkness of the illusory environment.\n\nMāyā means the illusory environment, the Lord's shadow potency, His dark power, which attracts the sparking light of the jīva-souls. Māyā Devī is one of the Lord's potencies, and by His will she has great attractive power.\n\nkṛṣṇa-bahirmukha hañā bhoga-vāñchhā kare  \nnikaṭa-stha māyā tāre jāpaṭiyā dhare\n\n(Śrī Prema-vivarta: 6.3)\n\nWhenever unfortunate souls want to enjoy separately from their Lord and come under the spell of Māyā's attraction, they jump towards her and she immediately embraces them. She weaves a web around them, binding them as her prisoners. These jīva-souls are immediately covered by the dark power of Māyā's illusory environment and thrown into the waves of birth and death.\n\nThe unfortunate group of jīva-souls who are bound by Māyā Devī is very small though. Actually, within the total transcendental reality, the māyik jagat, the illusory material universe, is like a very small skin spot. The souls in this world are a very small, insignificant minority, and they live in the material environment like prisoners. When people break the rules and regulations of society they are sent to prison. Prison is supposed to reform criminals, and this world is like a prison house for purifying the jīva-souls. But the number of people in prison is always a very small percentage of the total population. Today in India there are at least 90 crores [900 million] of people but only 25 lakhs [2.5 million] of prisoners. It is only a small portion of the jīva-souls who unfortunately want to enjoy māyā and are subjected to the bondage and suffering of material existence.\n\nmayādhyakṣeṇa prakṛtiḥ sūyate sa-charācharam  \nhetunānena kaunteya jagad viparivartate\n\n(Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā: 9.10)\n\nŚrīla Guru Mahārāj explained that the material universe functions in a cyclic way under the Lord's direction. By the Lord's will, the material energy manifests the matter of the mundane universe and then becomes filled with moving and non-moving life forms, that is, jīva-souls. In His form of Viṣṇu, Kṛṣṇa casts His glance upon māyā. Through His glance He throws His power, His liṅgam [male potency] into prakṛti, the material nature. Tal-liṅgaṁ Bhagavān Śambhur (Bs: 5.8): the personification of that reproductive potency thrown by Viṣṇu is Śambhu, Lord Śiva. When Viṣṇu casts His glance over māyā, the form of Śambhu appears, and it is Śambhu who directly touches māyā, the material energy. Through Śambhu, Viṣṇu's neutral power made up of the jīva-souls enters into the womb of material nature and comes out in a divided way in millions and millions of parts. In this way all the jīva-souls enter into the material world and activate the material energy.\n\nEvolution: material or spiritual?\n\nQuestion: As a university student, all of my science classes are based on Darwin's theory of evolution that humans evolved from previous species who evolved from inanimate matter. How can I integrate Darwin's theory of evolution with your teachings?\n\nŚrīla Govinda Mahārāj: If two ideas are completely different, like negative and positive charges, then it is not possible to harmonise them. If you try to combine negative and positive charges without the support of a neutral position, then a shock is inevitable. There is always a clash between materialistic and spiritual theories, so you will only find harmony when you try to discover what is actually negative and positive.\n\nMundane educational institutions teach Darwin's theory of evolution, although it has never been proven. Darwin's theory is not a complete explanation of existence because it does not actually explain where movement and consciousness come from. Its conclusions are speculations based upon observations of fossils. Because Darwin's theory is based only upon the observations of the senses, it cannot properly determine the true origin of consciousness—the senses are themselves instruments of consciousness.\n\nDarwin's theory of evolution is completely different from conclusive transcendental knowledge. Transcendental knowledge appears directly in the heart through revelation in the association of sādhus and scriptures. It does not rely on the senses or mind. Only transcendental knowledge is completely authoritative and free from illusion. Only through transcendental knowledge is there the possibility of having complete and satisfying knowledge of all existence—of both matter and spirit.\n\nOrganised creation\n\nThe scriptures explain that there are 400,000 types of human species, chatur-lakṣāṇi mānuṣāḥ (Pp). We can agree that it is possible for some of these types of human species to come about according to the ideas given in Darwin's theory, but we can never agree that all humans came about in that way. The Vedic scriptures explain that creation begins with the appearance of Brahmā, and Brahmā engineers the rest of the universal creation under the order of the Supreme Lord.\n\nOne name of Brahmā is Svayambhū, 'Self-born'. Brahmā is the first created being within the universe, and there is only one Brahmā. There is only one self-born being because Brahmā himself creates all other beings. In the past, and certainly within the five thousand years of modern history, there has never lived another being like Brahmā.\n\nThe scientists have now developed their gene theory. Through that they have changed the forms of some species. But if all the various life forms in this world were created by accidental changes in genes, then another being like Brahmā might have been created. Because this has never happened we can understand that creation is not random and species do not appear simply by accident. In other words, consciousness is controlling creation.\n\nExpressions of desire\n\nThe Vedas explain that creation happens by the will of the Lord. But they explain that creation does not actually come from the Lord Himself directly; it comes from and through His marginal potency, the taṭasthā-śakti. To understand this we can consider that everything we can recognise in this world—humans, trees, fish, animals, insects, rocks, clouds, and so on—is an expression of consciousness. All recognisable forms in this universe are manifestations of jīva-souls. The Vedic theory is that the spark of life, the jīva-soul, is spiritual and eternal. It is not a creation or formulation of matter. The spiritual jīva-souls enter anywhere and everywhere within the dull matter of the material energy and give rise to so many different forms and combinations of material energy, according to their desires. Even though they are covered by material energy in this way, the jīva-souls, as sparks of life, particles of spirit, are not themselves material. The jīva-souls are spiritual, and, as conscious beings with desires, they express themselves differently within the material energy. They give rise to all the different material forms and movement found within the universe. The creation of variegation within the material universe is actually produced by the presence, consciousness, and desires of the jīva-souls.\n\nInfinitesimal and infinite\n\nThe jīva-soul's existence is very, very tiny. You cannot see it with a microscope.\n\nbālāgra-śata-bhagasya śatadhā kalpitasya cha  \nbhago jīvaḥ sa vijñeyaḥ sa chānantyāya kalpate\n\n(Śvetāśvatara-upaniṣad: 5.9)\n\n\"The size of the jīva-soul's form is compared to the tip of a hair that has been divided one hundred times and then divided one hundred times again.\"\n\nIt is miraculous that the sparking light of only one jīva-soul has the power to illuminate the entire universe. All atoms within the universe are forms animated by jīva-souls, and we can understand through the scientists' electron-proton theory how much power is present within every atom of creation, that is, within every jīva-soul. Everyone has heard about the power of the atomic bomb; they have heard about how much power is released when the form of only one atom is broken. In that way one can easily understand something about the greatness of the power of every jīva-soul.\n\nTo understand how the jīva-souls have such great power we can consider that even a part and parcel of the Infinite is infinite. Anywhere a jīvātmā is present, the Paramātmā [Supersoul] is also present. The Paramātmā lives in the heart of every jīvātmā. In the Upaniṣads it is said:\n\ndvā suparṇā sayujā sakhāyā\n\nsamānaṁ vṛkṣaṁ pariṣasvajāte\n\n(Śvetāśvatara-upaniṣad: 4.6)\n\n\"Two birds, the Paramātmā and the jīvātmā, are perched together like friends on the same branch of a peepul tree.\"\n\nThe Paramātmā is always with the jīvātmā, and the jīvātmā receives its power and light from the Paramātmā. The jīvātmā's existence is very subtle, but it can wield infinite power because it is directly related with the Infinite reality, the Paramātmā. Whether a jīva-soul lives within an elephant body, a tiger's body, an insect body, or a human body, is not a factor. The jīvātmā can show its light and power anywhere and everywhere. Material space and size are insignificant.\n\nMatter and consciousness\n\nThere is another way we can understand the relationship between matter and consciousness. If someone asks, \"What came first, consciousness or fossils?\", we answer that we cannot discuss fossils if we are not first conscious. Consciousness is original. Fossils come into existence through the presence, and by the influence, of consciousness. Consciousness always comes first, before matter.\n\nThis is difficult to understand, and I even heard Śrīla Guru Mahārāj debating this point with other Āchāryas. Śrīla Guru Mahārāj would never accept fossils to be original. He would always say that behind fossils is consciousness; otherwise, it would not be possible for them to exist. The knower must exist before the known object. Śrīla Guru Mahārāj's conclusion was, \"Everything is existing within consciousness, and everything is built by consciousness. Nothing is jaḍa [matter].\"\n\nWhat is matter? Matter is our illusion. Matter is our misconception. One property of consciousness is that it is always moving, it is always active and dynamic. All movement in the universe is produced by the influence of consciousness upon matter. A stone may appear to you to be solid matter, but actually there is movement, and therefore consciousness, within stone. Within one day we cannot understand that it is moving, but after a thousand years or ten thousand years we will see that a stone has changed its form. In this way we can understand that at all times it is moving. How is it that stone is able to constantly move if there is not conscious existence within it? Our assertion is that everything we perceive is only a manifestation of the movement of consciousness, and that everything exists within consciousness.\n\nThe play of spiritual existence\n\nMatter and consciousness are never the same thing. They both exist here in this world and we must understand the difference between them. Movement and evolution are properties of consciousness. Dull matter is only a shadow form. It does not move or evolve on its own; it takes shape according to the influence of consciousness upon it. Evolution can only take place on the conscious level. The movement and evolution of consciousness is positive. Whatever happens within the shadow forms of matter is māyā and is negative. It is merely a passing show. The word for universe in Sanskrit is jagat, which means gachchhati iti jagat: that which is always moving. This means that the universe is always moving due to the presence of the jīva-souls within it. No form within the universe is permanent. Everything is always changing, and nothing remains in any particular form eternally.\n\nŚrīla Bhakti Vinod Ṭhākur has systematically explained in his book Śrī Chaitanya-śikṣāmṛta how the jīva-souls animate material nature. He explains that consciousness, which is called chetanā in the scriptures, animates all forms within the universe in five primary categories: āchchhādita-chetanā [covered consciousness], saṅkuchita-chetanā [suppressed consciousness], mukulita-chetanā [budding consciousness], vikaśita-chetanā [blooming consciousness], and pūrṇa-vikaśita-chetanā [fully blossomed consciousness]. I printed one book called Paramārtha-dharma-nirṇaya to broadcast this knowledge. If you read it you will clearly understand how the jīva-souls are situated within the material energy.\n\nStone and plant consciousness\n\nThere is consciousness within all forms found in the universe. Āchchhādita-chetanā means covered consciousness. All the beauty of this world made of 'immovable' objects, like rocks, stones, and metals like gold, are made of āchchhādita-chetanā.\n\nWhen I was purchasing materials for a building in Nabadwīp I was surprised to find that there were two kinds of stone for sale: dead stone and living stone. The living stone was a little more expensive than the dead stone. I was surprised that the quarrymen recognised a difference between dead stone and living stone. That sort of knowledge is found in the Vedas, but how did these villagers come to understand it? They had never studied the scriptures or seen any of the mountains moving, but that knowledge came to them simply from working with the stone.\n\nI asked them to show me how to recognise the difference between the two forms of stone. In that way I learned something from them. Through this example we can understand that consciousness is passing through stone forms of life.\n\nAll varieties of plant life are also considered āchchhādita-chetanā. Sir Jagadish Chandra Bose scientifically proved the theory that plants and trees have consciousness. This is true for all plant life. I personally saw a plant in Fiji that would noticeably contract when you touched it and return to its position when you moved your hand away. Consciousness must be present within plants; otherwise, this would be impossible. In this way the jīva-souls, the sparks of life, particles of spirit, exist within even the grossest material forms.\n\nAnimal consciousness\n\nSaṅkuchita-chetanā means consciousness showing a small fraction of its capacity and activity; consciousness minutely manifesting its natural thinking, feeling, and willing. Saṅkuchita-chetanā refers to insects, aquatics, animals, and similar creatures. All visibly moving forms, apart from humans, are considered saṅkuchita-chetanā.\n\njalajā nava-lakṣāṇi sthāvarā lakṣa-viṁśati  \nkṛmayo rudra-saṅkhyakāḥ pakṣiṇāṁ daśa-lakṣaṇam  \ntriṁśal-lakṣāṇi paśavaḥ chatur-lakṣāṇi mānuṣāḥ\n\n(Padma-purāṇa)\n\nIn the scriptures we hear that there are 8,400,000 different species in this world: 900,000 kinds of aquatics, 2,000,000 kinds of plants, 1,100,000 kinds of insects and reptiles, 1,000,000 kinds of birds, 3,000,000 kinds of four-legged beasts, and 400,000 kinds of humans. All these life forms, except the plants and humans, are considered saṅkuchita-chetanā.\n\nI have seen some very nice examples of animals showing their conscious nature. Once in a film about jungle lions I saw a lioness chase a group of deer. Within the group of deer were a mother and her baby. When the group of deer saw the lioness coming towards them, all the deer began to run away, but the mother deer could not run very fast because she was trying to bring her baby with her. The rest of the deer ran away from the lioness to safety, but the mother and her baby could not. When the lioness caught up to the mother deer and was about to jump and catch, the mother deer she suddenly stopped. I saw the eyes of the lioness then, and the feeling came to me that she was thinking, \"Oh, I am foolish. I did not know this deer had a baby with her.\" That lioness was hungry, but she did not kill that mother deer. After she saw the mother deer's baby she let them go and began to search for food elsewhere. When I saw this, I felt, \"Yes, even jungle animals have some consciousness and religion.\"\n\nHuman life\n\nMukulita-chetanā means budding consciousness, a sprout of consciousness which will soon blossom into its full form. This means human life. In human life, consciousness actively begins to expand. In human life, the jīva-souls have some control over their thinking, feeling, and willing. They can make conscious choices. Dogs, tigers, and other species have brains but no species' brain has as much power as the human brain. The human form is more capable than all other forms; it has the facilities of self-consciousness, intelligence, and discrimination. In human life the jīva-souls can consider what is good and what is bad, and then apply what they decide. Jīva-souls in the human form can consciously search for and discover what is spiritually beneficial for themselves.\n\nBut the natures and forms of humans are so variegated. Chatur-lakṣāṇi mānuṣāḥ: in the scriptures 400,000 species of humans are differentiated! This means there is great diversity within human life. Diversity means differences in mentality. Within human life there are many stages of realisation about the proper use of intelligence and consciousness. These are described by Śrīla Bhakti Vinod Ṭhākur as mukulita-chetanā [budding consciousness], vikaśita-chetanā [blooming consciousness], and pūrṇa-vikaśita-chetanā [fully blossomed consciousness].\n\nThe stage of mukulita-chetanā refers to humans who live as little more than animals (saṅkuchita-chetanā), humans who do not utilise their conscious nature properly for spiritual progress. Atheists, jungle-men, and persons from very low grade cultures with only hazy religious sentiments are described as mukulita-chetanā.\n\nReligious life\n\nāhāra-nidrā-bhaya-maithunaṁ cha  \nsāmānyam etat paśubhir narāṇām  \ndharmo hi teṣām adhiko viśeṣo  \ndharmeṇa hīnāḥ paśubhiḥ samānāḥ\n\n(Hitopadeśa)\n\nWe must understand the difference between animal life and human life. Human life can be almost the same as animal life. Humans may live in an organised way in cities and buildings, and animals may live in the jungle, but both humans and animals engage in eating, sleeping, fearing, and enjoying (āhāra-nidrā-bhaya-maithunaṁ cha). These are the natural activities of life for all species. So what is special about human life? What makes human life more than animal life? It is not actually brain power or intellectual capacity but dharma, religion. In human life jīva-souls can connect with their soul's natural religious mood and culture. If humans don't use their brain and consciousness to connect with their transcendental existence as jīva-souls through dharma, then there is no difference between their human life and the life of a beast.\n\nDharma has been explained in a very nice way by Śrīla Bhakti Vinod Ṭhākur. He explained that if we search everywhere throughout all the planes of existence in the universe, ā-brahma-bhuvanāl lokāḥ (Bg: 8.16), we will find that everywhere there is some form of religion, some form of dharma. He used the example of water. What is the religion of water? Water's nature, or religion, is liquidity. Fire's religion is producing heat and light. A stone's religion is to be hard. In this way he gave many examples. Every object and being within the universe functions according to its dharma because of the presence of consciousness, the presence of a jīva-soul, within it. The jīva-souls always exhibit their dharma, nature, but they do so through their forms of embodiment. The jīva-souls are sometimes covered by an animal form, sometimes by an insect form, and sometimes by a human form. All these forms are coverings, part of the illusory environment of māyā, which make the jīva-souls forget their spiritual dharma, their true nature as eternal servants of Kṛṣṇa.\n\nBlossoming consciousness\n\nDharma means religion, but dharma literally means 'to hold'. When jīva-souls have a human form and their thinking, feeling, and willing is manifest clearly to them, they must practise dharma consciously by holding their mind and mentality in a good position. This is the vital point of human life. If anyone consciously leads a religious life, actively practising the dharma of the soul, they will always be benefitted, and their practice of religious life will help establish them in their natural position, in their true spiritual dharma.\n\nsa vai puṁsāṁ paro dharmo yato bhaktir adhokṣaje\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam: 1.2.6)\n\nThe supreme form of all dharma is Kṛṣṇa-bhakti, and the practice of other dharmas gradually develops into Kṛṣṇa-bhakti. The practice of dharma, which is what makes human life more than animal life, ultimately establishes the jīva-souls in their natural position as servitors of Bhagavān Śrī Kṛṣṇa.\n\nIn the stage of mukulita-chetanā the jīva-soul's consciousness can open itself to revelation from the transcendental plane. When the consciousness of any jīva-soul is influenced by higher consciousness, then it gets sensible and clean knowledge. When revealed knowledge appears within the hearts of the jīva-souls, then they embrace their natural theistic life and ideal. This is when the jīva-souls begin to enter into their natural position and behave according to their true nature. This stage is called vikaśita-chetanā, blossoming consciousness.\n\nRevelation enters the hearts of the jīva-souls by the grace of the Lord and by the grace an expert devotee of the Lord. Kṛṣṇa consciousness exists within all jīva-souls but it is suppressed by the illusory environment. By the grace of a pure sādhu, Kṛṣṇa consciousness, which already exists inside the jīva-souls, is revealed to them. Through the practice of religious thought and culture (dharma) in the association of pure devotees, the jīva-souls' consciousness develops day by day more and more. In this way the Kṛṣṇa consciousness that is already within them marches into the open doors of their hearts from without, and through that the jīva-souls feel the joy of their own pure existence.\n\nConsciousness in full bloom\n\nIf, with consciousness, anyone will try to understand the Lord, then the Lord will reveal Himself to that soul, and then the soul won't have any further question about the Lord's existence. Until then one can try to believe and practise the soul's dharma in the association of pure devotees. The pure devotee is in the highest stage of conscious evolution, pūrṇa-vikaśita-chetanā [fully blossomed consciousness]. A jīva-soul in that stage is described as a siddha-mahāpuruṣ, someone who has genuine and direct experience of the Lord, someone whose pure feelings are enriched with full consciousness of the Lord's Name, Form, Fame, and Pastimes. Everything transcendental and mundane is seen and known by a siddha-mahāpuruṣ.\n\nThe play of the Sweet Absolute\n\nIn this way the jīva-souls animate the material energy and exist at different stages of spiritual evolution. One name of the transcendental world is the ātma-jagat. Through this name we can understand that the jīva-souls do not come from the material world: they are actually members of the eternal world and have an eternal form. Jīvān prakṛti-kavalitān Tad-vimuktāṁś cha bhāvāt. When the jīva-souls misuse their freedom, they enter the material nature and suffer in the bondage of karma. When they are re-established in their natural consciousness of eternal service to Kṛṣṇa, then they transcend Māyā's illusions and feel supramundane joy. Śrīla Guru Mahārāj described this play of the Sweet Absolute with the jīva-souls in his book Subjective Evolution of Consciousness.\nChapter Seven   \nThe Waves of Birth and Death\n\nThe mundane world is a plane of exploitation. No one can live there without exploiting others. It has been described in the scriptures as bhogamaya bhūmikā.\n\nahastāni sahastānām apadāni chatuṣ-padām  \nphalgūni tatra mahatāṁ jīvo jīvasya jīvanam\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam: 1.13.47)\n\n\"Those who have hands live on those who have no hands. Those who have four legs live on those who have no legs. The big live on the small. No living being can maintain its body without exploitation because every living being's food is another living being.\"\n\nIn the mundane world everyone is exploiting everyone. No one's life can continue without exploitation. The jīva-souls are by nature active; they must always do something, and in this world the jīva-souls cannot do anything without exploiting others. If someone eats something, he eats someone else's energy. If someone builds a house, or a stadium, or anything, he has to take the material to build that from somewhere. Even if someone wants to fill in a hole, he must dig up earth from elsewhere to do that. Every jīva-soul takes the energy it needs to act and maintain its body from other living beings in the form of the products produced by the sky, air, fire, water, and earth. In this way the embodied jīva-souls are forced to exploit each other to fulfil their needs and desires in this mundane world. This is always the situation in the mundane environment: exploiting to exist.\n\nAction and reaction\n\nWe have seen that sometimes scientists who study the mundane world come to understand something about scriptural thought. For example, I have heard from Śrīla Guru Mahārāj about Isaac Newton and his third law of motion: \"To every action there is an equal and opposite reaction\". Newton's third law is a perfect explanation of karma. The theory of karma is very clearly explained in Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā. What Newton recently 'discovered', the law of karma, was actually explained in Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā five thousand years earlier:\n\nte taṁ bhuktvā svarga-lokaṁ viśālaṁ  \nkṣīṇe puṇye martya-lokaṁ viśanti  \nevaṁ trayī-dharmam anuprapannā  \ngatāgataṁ kāma-kāmā labhante\n\n(Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā: 9.21)\n\n\"Within the mundane universe pious jīva-souls enjoy in the heavenly planets, and impious jīva-souls suffer in hellish planets after leaving their earthly bodies. When the jīva-souls' positive or negative karmic reactions are finished, they are born again in the earthly plane.\"\n\nŚrīmad Bhagavad-gītā explains in this way how creation and the wheel of karma revolve within the material environment.\n\nThe mundane universe is a passing show (gachchhati iti jagat). The jīva-souls are constantly revolving up and down through the different species and planes of life in this universe according to their karma. The jīva-souls try in many ways to find satisfaction, but none of their attempts are successful.\n\nkabhu svarge uṭhāya, kabhu narake ḍubāya  \ndaṇḍya-jane rājā yena nadīte chubāya\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Madhya-līlā, 20.118)\n\n\"In material life, the jīva-souls are sometimes raised to heaven or material prosperity, and sometimes drowned in a hellish situation by their karma. This experience of the jīva-soul is similar to a king's punishment of a criminal. When a king wants to punish a criminal, he orders his servitor, 'Take this criminal, drown him until he is nearly dead, raise him up, give him one breath, and then force him under water again.'\"\n\nThe jīva-soul's existence and passing enjoyment in this world is comparable to being forced above and below water again and again. The equal and opposite reactions of the jīva-souls' exploitative actions, done even for survival, force them into this condition.\n\nInescapable karma\n\nWe can also recognise Newton's third law in another verse of Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā:\n\nmātrā-sparśās tu kaunteya śītoṣṇa-sukha-duḥkha-dāḥ  \nāgamāpāyino 'nityās tāṁs titikṣasva bhārata\n\n(Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā 2.14)\n\n\"Heat, cold, happiness, sadness, and all the other phases of mundane life come and go. They are a passing show. Whenever happiness comes, sadness follows it, and whenever sadness comes, happiness follows it. This is the nature of the material environment.\"\n\nThe jīva-souls must tolerate these changes. Happiness and sadness are actually the reactions to the jīva-souls' own activities. All of the jīva-souls' experiences and actions register within the cyclic system of karma, and no jīva-soul can avoid the reactions produced by karma.\n\n'Miraculous news'\n\nIn the Mahābhārata, Dharmarāj asked Yudhiṣṭhir Mahārāj, \"What is the news in this world?\" Yudhiṣṭhir Mahārāj replied:\n\nmāsarttu-darvī parighaṭnena  \nsūryāgninā rātri-divendhanena  \nasmin mahā-moha maye kaṭāhe  \nbhūtāni kālaḥ pachatīti vārtā\n\n(Mahābhārata: Vana-parva, 313.118)\n\n\"The news of this world is that the conditioned jīva-souls are being cooked by Mahākāl [Universal Time] in the pot of worldly illusion, which is heated by the fire of the sun and burns on the firewood of the days and nights. The pot is stirred by the ladles of the months and seasons, and within the pot the jīva-souls are suffering so much, covered with the masala [flavouring] of kāma [lust], krodha [anger], lobha [greed], mada [pride], moha [illusion], mātsarya [envy], and the desires for kanak [wealth], kāminī [women], and pratiṣṭhā [fame]. This is the only news in this world.\"\n\nDharmarāj then asked Yudhiṣṭhir Mahārāj, \"What is miraculous in this world?\" Yudhiṣṭhir Mahārāj replied:\n\nahany ahani bhūtāni gachchhanti yama-mandiram  \nśeṣāḥ sthāvaram ichchhanti kim āścharyam ataḥ param\n\n(Mahābhārata: Vana-parva, 313.116)\n\n\"Day by day the embodied souls are suffering so much in their worldly lives and finally departing for the house of death. Day by day, before their eyes, death takes away their father, mother, sons, daughters, neighbours, and so on. But the jīva-souls who stay behind think, 'I will not go. I will never die. I will stay here and enjoy everything. So many others have gone, but I won't. I will stay here and enjoy. Everyone else has died, but death will never come for me. I will stay here forever.'\"\n\nThis is the foolishness of the conditioned souls, and Yudhiṣṭhir Mahārāj described it as the greatest wonder in the world. The conditioned souls think they will live this particular life eternally. It is simply not true. Śrīla Guru Mahārāj used to quote this English verse,\n\nThe boast of heraldry, the pomp of power,  \nAnd all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave  \nAwaits alike the inevitable hour:  \nThe paths of glory lead but to the grave.\n\n(Thomas Gray's 'Elegy in a Country Churchyard')\n\nHere the position of everything in this world is very simply explained: according to everyone's culture, qualities, karma, and so on, their position within material life goes up, then down, up again, down again, and finally to the grave. The conditioned souls, however, are not able to properly understand this. When any soul does realise their position in this world, they feel:\n\ndina yāminyau sāyam prataḥ  \nśiśira-vasantau punar āyātaḥ  \nkālaḥ krīḍati gachchhaty āyus  \ntad api na muñchaty āśā-vāyuḥ\n\n(Moha-mudgara-stotram: 12)\n\nAgain and again the sun rises, the sun sets, and days pass by, but the conditioned souls never really consider it. The conditioned souls always absorb themselves in eating, sleeping, fearing, and enjoying (āhāra-nidrā-bhaya-maithunaṁ cha). They only think about what they will have for dinner this evening, what they will have for breakfast tomorrow, and so on. While they are thus absorbed in material life, the days continue to pass, and beyond their control Time flows on.\n\nThe wheel of karma\n\nDeath and birth are very important questions for conditioned souls. The jīva-souls want to enjoy their existing lives forever. They make houses and families for this purpose. But at any time a car accident can happen and take anyone away from their house and family. The jīva-soul cannot actually control anything. The reactions to one's previous actions (karma-phal), can always forcibly oust one from any position in this world. Karmic reactions bring birth, death, old age, disease, happiness, and sadness to the jīva-souls within this material world. The jīva-souls never know when death will come to them and they will have to leave everything to take another birth.\n\nAccording to their karma, jīva-souls may receive a human birth again or may revolve through the 8,400,000 varieties of species in this world. No one can stay in their present body forever. Everyone must change bodies according to the laws of karma. No one knows where their karma will take them, where they will stay, what they will do, or what their future will be. They only know that the karma-chakra, the wheel of karma, must push them forward. \"To every action there is always an equal and opposite reaction.\" Within the material environment the karma-chakra is always cycling, and the reactions to everyone's previous actions are happening automatically.\n\nLeaving the body\n\nThe waves of birth and death are always flowing within this environment, carrying away the jīva-souls. Some people think that dying in a plane crash is very terrible, but actually it is not an unhappy way to die. Before a plane crashes, when it is falling towards the earth, people lose their senses. When they die they do not feel what happened. They only later realise, \"I am out of my body\", and wonder, \"Where is my body? Where is my leg?\" When their awareness returns to them after they die, they immediately recognise, \"I am detached from my body\". Then they begin to search for their body. When they see one body part over here and one body part over there, they think, \"How could I ever live in that body again? It is not possible.\"\n\nAfter jīva-souls depart from a body, they often try to enter back into it. But when a jīva-soul leaves a body there is no power for the body to run, and because of that the heart does not beat and the body stops functioning. When this happens, the body begins to degrade, and after it has degraded it cannot work again properly. In this way it becomes impossible for jīva-souls to re-enter their previous bodies. After trying to re-enter his former body and being unsuccessful, a departed jīva-soul becomes very sad and finally begins following his body around. Even though he can't enter back into his body, he cannot forget his body. Until his body is cremated a departed jīva-soul follows his body, and again and again tries to enter into his body. But once a jīva-soul has left his body, and the body degrades, the jīva-soul cannot enter into his body again. It is like Paradise Lost.\n\nDisembodied life\n\nWhen a jīva-soul follows his body to its cremation ground or grave, he thinks, \"What are my relatives doing? Why are they burning my body? They should keep my body for some more time so I can try again to enter back into it.\"\n\nWhen his body is finally burned or buried, the jīva-soul feels very helpless. He wonders, \"Where should I go now?\" After his body is cremated the jīva-soul visits his house, his old bedroom, and the homes of his relatives. He sees his son or mother or father crying, and he also feels very sad. He wants to show himself to his relatives, but he cannot. He tries to talk to his relatives, but they cannot hear him talking. Frustrated, he may go back to the cremation ground where his body was. Left without shelter the jīva-soul wanders around and around restlessly. He may stay at the cremation house thinking of his body, and other souls who were also cremated the same day may be there as well. He will see those souls and talk with them. They may be the souls of rickshaw wallahs, or kings, or anything else. In life a rickshaw wallah cannot speak with a king, but when they have left their bodies, they may live together in a tree near their cremation ground.\n\nIn this way the departed soul lives after his body is cremated, and he feels very hungry and thirsty, although he is unable to eat or drink. The departed soul still has his subtle body, his mental body, which contains all his feelings and desires. So he lives in a very helpless condition: full of desires with no way to satisfy them.\n\nVedic rites for the departed\n\nIt is a Vedic rule that three days after a jīva-soul departs his relatives on his daughter's side offer him some water and milk. This is done through mantram after his body's cremation.\n\nsasa naṣṭo nirālambho vāyu-bhūto nirāśrayam  \nidaṁ kṣīra idaṁ nīra śraddhayā diya te 'pi mām\n\nThis mantram means, \"You are living now in this cremation field. You have no place to rest and your soul has no formation (nirālambho). Your form is now like a vāyubhūta, an air form like a ghost, and you have no shelter (nirāśrayam). I am your daughter and I am offering you this water and milk. Through this mantram you will receive it and you will feel peaceful.\"\n\nMentally the departed jīva-soul then drinks that water and milk. Later his sons offer piṇḍa, traditional sacrificial articles. His sons will become the proprietors of his land, so they must do something good for their father. Ten days after his departure they shave their heads, take a bath in the Ganges or a body of water, put on new cloth, and make an offering to their father or whichever relative of theirs has departed. The departed soul accepts all the offerings through mantram. Through mantram there is communication on the mental plane. The departed soul then feels peaceful, \"I have no body or I have no existence among my relatives, but they are still remembering me and they are still doing something good for me. I am not so helpless. Help is coming to me from my relatives.\" In this way the departed soul feels some mental peace.\n\nAfter offering piṇḍa the departed soul's relatives perform a śrāddha ceremony. In remembrance of his necessities—maybe a pair of shoes, an umbrella, some cloth, or some food—they make an offering in his name to a group of brāhmaṇs. There are sixteen items used in this offering. When the departed soul's relatives supply brāhmaṇs in the ceremony with these necessities, the departed soul receives a year's supply of his necessities mentally.\n\nIn this way, on the mental level, the departed soul's subtle body receives ten or twelve years of food when a group of ten or twelve brāhmaṇs is fed. In his name his relatives feed a group of brāhmaṇs, and all the property they offer is enjoyed by him mentally. Each of his relatives bears witness, \"This śrāddha ceremony is the Vedic practice for departed jīva-souls, and I am offering these articles for the benefit of my father\", or mother, or other relative, according to their relationship. Then the śrāddha ceremony is finished. The brāhmaṇs from the ceremony take responsibility for the departed soul's spiritual advancement and bring some light to him. Within a few days he feels the darkness of his situation leave, and he feels detachment in his mind.\n\nThe ghost plane\n\nThis is the traditional Vedic process. If a departed soul is a Vaiṣṇava, then all of this is not necessary. The best thing that can be done for him is to offer some preparations to the Lord in His Deity form and then serve the Vaiṣṇavas with that prasādam. Serving the Vaiṣṇavas in the name of the departed soul is the best way to help him, and no problems will come to that Vaiṣṇava if a traditional śrāddha ceremony is not held.\n\nAnyhow, after his death a departed soul wants to speak with his relatives, but he cannot. At that time his experience is very bitter. Some days after the ceremony for his passing the grief of his relatives begins to fade and the departed soul thinks, \"What is this? Now they are forgetting me. I need to move on and choose my future path. Where shall I go?\"\n\nWhen a jīva-soul is not embodied he can move very quickly over the earth. The departed soul begins to search for his previous connections who still may be on the mental plane. He searches for his forefathers or persons from his past life that have already departed. He searches for his former associates and maybe he finds his grandfather seated under a tree meditating in the Himalayas. Even if he finds some of his previous connections, none of them say to him, \"Oh, there you are! Come here! Come here!\" No one responds to him like that. The other departed jīva-souls he meets in the mental plane look at him innocently. They advise him, \"It is natural, your feelings. Our feelings were the same as yours when we first left our previous bodies. Now you should try to understand our sober mood and try to proceed towards a higher destiny.\"\n\nQuestion: Mahārāj, there is an Indian lady here who lost her son a few months ago. She is still grieving very much as though it happened yesterday. Will the soul of her son suffer because of this?\n\nŚrīla Govinda Mahārāj: That soul may or may not suffer. That soul knows his mother is foolishly crying for him. He knows he cannot go back to her and she cannot see him. Sometimes in that situation a departed soul may avoid his mother. But if he has much affection for her, he may continue to live near her. Also, sometimes a departed soul may take on a shadow form through great concentration with his subtle body. That means he may become a bhūt [ghost]. Through concentration a soul may take the form of a ghost because of his attachment for his previous worldly life and relatives, but he cannot exist in that form for a long time.\n\nMental experience\n\nGenerally a departed soul will try to see how he can go towards a higher standard of life. According to his previous karma he gets an opportunity to stay in some place he desires, and he also gets the opportunity to do what he desires. This all happens on the mental level. On the mental level the vision of departed souls is clearer than the vision of humans. Actually, it is the opposite of human vision. Departed souls can see things very far away from them but they cannot see things near to them. If a departed soul thinks of the ocean, the ocean will come to him on the mental level. If a departed soul thinks of a garden, a garden will come before him. Whatever he thinks of will come before him according to his karma (previous experience).\n\nWhen things come before him, he thinks, \"What shall I do with this?\" Then he thinks, \"What shall I do with this?\" If his previous karma is good and he also had some association with sādhus, he will use his thoughts to try to satisfy the Lord. If someone has given him good association and advised him, \"O boy, while you are here (in this disembodied mental state) try to meditate\", then he will think, \"I am happy when I think of a flower garden so I will meditate on that to satisfy the Lord.\" Then he will think of a flower garden, the flower garden will come into his mind, and if he has a proper cultured mood, he will offer flowers from that garden to a Deity mentally. In this way he can offer the fruits of his karma, the qualities of his previous experience, to the Lord according to his cultured mood, and when he will offer that to the Lord he will receive double the satisfaction he would by enjoying it himself. In this way a departed soul is tested on the mental plane and must try to do something positive there.\n\nThe waves of birth and death\n\nAs he is living on the mental plane a departed soul's previous karma also pushes him forward. On the mental plane there are always waves moving, the waves of janma and mṛtyu, birth and death. These waves are always flowing throughout the mental plane. Generally the souls existing in the mental plane avoid the waves of birth and death. When those waves come to them they try to move out of the way. They do not want to be carried away by those waves to take birth again. The waves of birth and death come like thunder. When departed souls see the waves of birth and death, they think, \"These waves will knock me senseless.\" When souls on the mental plane see the thunderous wave of birth coming towards them they feel afraid. They know that that thunderous wave will knock them senseless and take them to an unknown destination. They avoid that wave and live in the mental plane according to their karma.\n\nFlying to heaven and hell\n\nMostly, departed souls try to move towards a higher standard of thinking while they are living in the mental plane. If they have a tendency to enjoy and some pious karma (puṇya), then they will feel some sort of air come and push them up to Svargaloka (heaven). In heaven there are many enjoyable things and departed souls enjoy them there according to their karma. The reactions to the actions they did in their previous lives come to them and they enjoy the heavenly environment.\n\nIf a departed soul has some bad karma, he is taken to an unpleasant environment. There he feels fearful and hungry. He feels burning sensations. He feels as though he is in the middle of a thunderstorm. He feels many varieties of miseries. In India you will see images of nārak [hell]: people being killed, burned, scalped, eaten by vultures, and so on. All these reactions happen to a departed soul in his subtle body on the mental level in hell, and he cries so much as he suffers. According to a soul's karma he will either suffer in Nārak or enjoy in Svargaloka.\n\nRebirth\n\nWhen a departed soul's karma is finished he must again take birth. This is the law. He will not be able to avoid it. It will happen suddenly as though in the meantime. The waves of janma and mṛtyu, birth and death, will come and take him forcibly to his birth. He will be knocked senseless and forced down to the ground of the earth. Unconsciously he will take on the form of a tree or plant and then a fruit. From the fruit he will move into the body of a human, animal, or insect according to the reactions of his karma. If his next body will be a human body, he will take the form of some rice or some food, and in this way move into the body of his future father. From his father's body he will move into the womb of his mother.\n\nSometimes when a soul is in the womb of his mother, his consciousness will suddenly come back to him. He will see his own form as an ātmā [soul], and he will see that the Paramātmā [Supreme Soul] is living with him. Śrīla Bhakti Vinod Ṭhākur has described this experience within the womb:\n\njananī-jaṭhare, chhilāma yakhana,  \nviṣama bandhana-pāśe  \neka-bāra prabhu! dekhā diyā more,  \nvañchile e dīna dāse\n\n(Śaraṇāgati: 1.2)\n\n[\"While I was bound in the terrible confines of my mother's womb, You once revealed Yourself to me, O Lord! Yet since then You have deprived this poor servant.\"]\n\nNot everyone receives this consciousness in the womb, but Śrīla Bhakti Vinod Ṭhākur has described it in one of his songs. When the jīva-soul is living in the womb of his mother he has some general consciousness and feelings. When the jīva-soul's body and senses form within the womb, his awareness begins to come back to him, though it is not so strong, after being knocked senseless by the waves of birth and death. But when he is born and comes out from his mother's womb, he forgets everything. His next life begins from that moment.\n\nSometimes some persons can see mental pictures of their previous lives even after they have taken on a new body. Sometimes when a child is sleeping or looks into the sky, his vision goes beyond this planet, and he sees into another plane of experience. This has been researched in the past.\n\nPicking up where you left off\n\nAfter birth the jīva-soul loses all memory of his previous experience, and his karma provides him with opportunities for his future.\n\npūrva janmārjitā vidyā pūrva janmārjitaṁ dhanaṁ  \npūrva janmārjitaṁ karma agre dhāvati dhāvati\n\nIf he performed some pious activities, or gathered some knowledge or wealth, in his previous life, that follows him into his future life. He cannot see how this happens but it happens. For example, I remember seeing a young girl who played harmonium like an expert the first time she touched a harmonium. She could immediately play and sing very difficult tunes after hearing them only once or twice. She could easily play music that many adults could not play. This quality came to her through her previous karma. According to one's karma one may have particular qualities that bring them quickly to an advanced stage of practice.\n\nIn this way the next birth of a soul begins. The atmosphere of his birth may sometimes help him, and may sometimes go against him, according to his karma. Finally that birth passes and his body goes to the grave again. In this way the waves of janma and mṛtyu, birth and death, always flow throughout this mundane world, and the jīva-souls revolve through the passing show of material existence.\nChapter Eight   \nThe Waves of Kāma and Prema\n\nAs humans we all know we have a human body. There is no doubt that we've taken human birth. But how has such fortune come to us? Somehow we came to our mother's womb, and from our mother's womb to where we are now. But we don't really know how we came into our mother's womb and where we were before that. Most persons in this world are not using their time to try to understand this and discover how they can make the best use of their life. The sādhus and scriptures come to give people proper consciousness about this.\n\nThe most important question of life\n\nIn Śrīmad Bhāgavatam it is described that when Mahārāj Parīkṣit was cursed to die within seven days, he asked all the great ṛṣis and munis of his time, \"How can I make the best possible use of this short time?\"\n\nMany ṛṣis and munis were present in a grand assembly and they gave their opinions according to their ability. But it was as though so many different bottles of medicine were brought to a sick man and he could not decide which one to take. All the ṛṣis and munis were very scholarly and qualified, but Mahārāj Parīkṣit felt confused after hearing all of their different opinions. He said, \"I cannot understand what to do. All of you together should decide what is best for me.\"\n\nAt that time Śukadev Goswāmī came into the assembly, and all the ṛṣis and munis gave full honour to him. They told Mahārāj Parīkṣit, \"This is the most qualified person to answer your question.\"\n\nŚukadev Goswāmī sat upon a throne in front of everyone. Mahārāj Parīkṣit worshipped him, and then asked, \"How can I derive the greatest benefit from life within the short period of time I have left to live?\"\n\nWhen Śukadev Goswāmī heard Parīkṣit Mahārāj's question he said, \"Oh! You are so fortunate! You have asked the supreme question. This is the only question there is actually.\"\n\nśrotavyādīni rājendra nṛṇāṁ santi sahasraśaḥ  \napaśyatām ātma-tattvaṁ gṛheṣu gṛha-medhinām\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam: 2.1.2)\n\n\"Other persons ask so many questions, 'How do we cook this? How do we clean that? How do we perform fire sacrifice? How do we offer worship?' When persons do not know the nature of the perfect question, then they ask so many questions that are unnecessary.\" The only real question is, \"How can we be supremely benefitted during our short lifetime?\"\n\nMahārāj Parīkṣit knew he had only seven days to live when he questioned Śukadev Goswāmī. Unlike Mahārāj Parīkṣit, we are not sure how long our lifetime will last. But if we receive some proper consciousness and realise that we may die at any moment, then we will immediately try to discover what is supremely beneficial for our lives and try to proceed in that way. Without proper consciousness we will consider that we have so many mundane duties that are all 'very important'.\n\nRare human birth\n\nlabdhvā su-durlabham idaṁ bahu-sambhavānte  \nmānuṣyam artha-dam anityam apīha dhīraḥ  \ntūrṇaṁ yateta na pated anu-mṛtyu yāvan  \nniḥśreyasāya viṣayaḥ khalu sarvataḥ syāt\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam: 11.9.29)\n\nWe have crossed over thousands of births to attain this human birth, which is sudurlabha, very rare and difficult to attain. It is only after crossing so many crises and critical positions that this rare human life is now in our hand. It requires so much pious activity to attain a human birth, and somehow we have reached it. We must not forget that it is very rare to attain, and can also be lost very easily.\n\nWithin the human form we can receive proper consciousness about the perfection of our life, the perfection of our existence as jīva-souls. In human life we can realise our spiritual potential, that is, that our only actual duty is to satisfy our Lord, Kṛṣṇa. Jīvera 'svarūpa' haya—Kṛṣṇera 'nitya-dāsa': as jīva-souls we are all eternal servants of Kṛṣṇa.\n\nkṛṣṇa bhuli' sei jīva anādi-bahirmukha  \nataeva māyā tāre deya saṁsāra-duḥkha\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Madhya-līlā, 20.117)\n\n\"Forgetting Kṛṣṇa we have abandoned His service, come to this material world, and experienced so many forms of suffering amidst the waves of birth and death.\"\n\nNow in our fortunate life as humans we have the opportunity to get liberation from our heavily conditioned position and find the proper help and strength we need to engage in Kṛṣṇa's service.\n\nFull dedication without hesitation\n\nThere is really only one question in our lives: \"How may we be supremely benefitted?\" And there is only one answer: \"Satisfy Kṛṣṇa and you will get the supreme benefit of life.\"\n\nHere in Śrīmad Bhāgavatam it is expressed, \"Tūrṇām! Immediately try to get that result! If you have any sobriety about your position do not wait one second. It is not necessary to wait one second to get that result; immediately start, and until death try for the supreme benefit of your life.\" Niḥśreyasāya means the super-benefit of your spiritual life and the super-benefit of your mundane life. Kṛṣṇa consciousness will give you everything.\n\nViṣayaḥ khalu sarvataḥ syāt: eating, sleeping, fearing, and enjoying are possible in every birth in every species. We will experience that sort of enjoyment in every birth. Only in human birth do we have the opportunity to get the supreme benefit of our lives—Kṛṣṇa consciousness.\n\nyāvat āchhaye prāṇa, dehe āchhe śakti  \ntāvat karaha kṛṣṇa-pāda-padme bhakti\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-bhāgavat: Madhya-khaṇḍa, 1.342)\n\n\"So long as there is life and strength in your body, try to dedicate yourself to the service of Kṛṣṇa's lotus feet.\"\n\nSleeping in illusion\n\nThe scriptures explain that our position as conditioned souls in the illusory environment is like that of a man dreaming. Because we are bewildered by Māyā and asleep to who we are and what is in our own best interest, we do not engage ourselves in Kṛṣṇa's service and foolishly suffer through so many forms of material difficulty. The scriptures compare the suffering of the conditioned soul to a man dreaming that a tiger is coming to attack him. Within his dream the sleeping man feels very fearful and suffers great pain. Within his dream he cries out, \"Tiger! Tiger! Ah! Save me! Save me!\" If any of his friends are awake nearby, what will they do? If they are intelligent they will see that their friend is only dreaming and try to wake him up. They won't search for a stick to scare away the tiger or anything like that. They will only try to wake him up, \"Wake up! Wake up! There is no tiger attacking you. You are simply dreaming in your bed.\" When the sleeping person awakens he will see, \"Oh. There is no tiger attacking me actually. I was only dreaming.\"\n\nAwakening to our real interest\n\nThe conditioned jīva-soul's position is like the dreaming man. All the conditioned souls are sleeping in their bodies under the influence of Māyā's illusory environment. The jīva-souls' suffering in this world, which is really only the suffering of their minds and bodies, is like the suffering felt by a sleeping person within a dream. To leave behind that suffering it is only necessary to wake up. If the conditioned jīva-souls can wake up to their real identity as souls they will automatically understand everything and see that all of their suffering is only part of Māyā's illusion.\n\ntasmād idaṁ jagad aśeṣam asat-svarūpaṁ  \nsvapnābham asta-dhiṣaṇaṁ puru-duḥkha-duḥkham\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam: 10.14.22)\n\nThe jīva-souls will see that the play of the material universe is simply a passing show put on by Māyā in which their consciousness is covered by illusion and they suffer so many varieties of sorrow as though within a dream. Under the influences of Māyā and karma the jīva-souls pass through so many challenges.\n\nyayā sammohito jīva ātmānaṁ tri-guṇātmakam  \nparo 'pi manute 'narthaṁ tat-kṛtaṁ chābhipadyate\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam: 1.7.5)\n\n\"When the jīva-souls are deluded by Māyā they foolishly believe they are products of material nature, even though their very nature is superior to matter. Bound by identification with matter they try to exploit the illusory energy and then suffer the reactions to their misconceived actions.\"\n\nMāyā's illusory environment\n\nQuestion: Is there anything wrong with the world today?\n\nŚrīla Govinda Mahārāj: Misconception. Misconception about our real identity and function is the only problem within this world. Misconception means māyā. Śrīla Guru Mahārāj explained that māyā means 'mā'-'yā'. Mā means 'not' and yā means 'this', so 'what is not truth' is māyā. When the conditioned souls forget their Lord, they are polluted by mahāmāyā, the illusory environment, and suffer so much. Māyā Devī's job is to create chaos and confusion in the lives of the jīva-souls so that they become bewildered and cannot see the proper path and purpose of their life. Māyā Devī's function is to hide the jīva-souls' wealth: their eternal loving relationship with Kṛṣṇa. She does anything and everything to disturb the conditioned souls.\n\nThe conditioned souls cannot avoid association with mahāmāyā. Suffering in the lives of the conditioned souls is natural and expected; it is the natural reaction to the jīva-souls' misguided activities. That suffering is also good because it inspires fortunate souls to want to clean themselves of the pollution of the illusion; it inspires them to want to steady themselves and avoid further entanglement within material existence.\n\nPositive and negative power\n\nI am habituated to not believe Māyā. We learned from Śrīla Guru Mahārāj and other great personalities that we should not believe Māyā Devī and the tricks of her illusory environment. Māyā may have so much power and be able to do anything and everything within her illusory environment, but we have learned not to be bewildered by that. We honour Māyā, but we never believe Māyā. No doubt we cannot fight with Māyā directly; we are tiny souls, and we must be defeated by her because the Lord's power is working behind her. But with the spiritual strength we receive from Guru–Vaiṣṇava we can cross over the ocean of māyā.\n\nMāyā's power is negative. It comes from the Lord, but it is a negative power. The power coming through Guru–Vaiṣṇava to rescue the conditioned souls is positive; it is the Lord's positive power descending from His purposeful and positive world. Whenever the conditioned souls are connected with the Lord's positive power, they must be carried beyond the influence of His negative power. We have no doubt about this as the Lord's natural desire for love, beauty, charm, and sweetness is fulfilled by the unalloyed service of the jīva-souls. If any jīva-soul sincerely wants to dedicate himself to the Lord then the Lord will certainly rescue him and give him that chance. That is the Lord's nature. The Lord gave the jīva-souls free will for this purpose, as well as for facilitating His play of rescuing the jīva-souls with the attractive power of His divine form and Pastimes.\n\nSons of nectar\n\nWithin all the scriptures of India—the Vedas, Vedānta, Upaniṣads, Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā, Śrīmad Bhāgavatam, and so on—the Lord invites all jīva-souls suffering in the illusory environment to return to His abode. He calls the jīva-souls,\n\nśṛṇvantu viśve amṛtasya putrā\n\n(Śvetāśvatara-upaniṣad: 2.5)\n\n\"You are all sons of nectar. Why are you avoiding Me? Come back to your home, back to Godhead. Here everything is ready to give you happiness, ecstasy, service, and joy. Come back to the nectarean ocean of positive spiritual existence. It is your property and real identity; you are actually a proprietor of ecstatic spiritual nectar. Your soul has been covered by the illusory environment, but you are really a son of nectar. Divine nectar is here waiting for you to taste it. Please come and accept it.\"\n\nThis is the main invitation of Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu, His associates, and all the scriptures. Amṛta means nectar, nectar that enables you to conquer death. Positive eternal existence is the jīva-soul's transcendental wealth and natural position. Śṛṇvantu viśve amṛtasya putrā. The Lord and His associates call out in this way in order to rescue the conditioned souls and give them real immortal nectar—consciousness about their spiritual destiny. They call out to the conditioned jīva-souls:\n\nuttiṣṭhata jāgrata prāpya varān nibodhata\n\n(Kaṭha-upaniṣad: 1.3.14)\n\n\"Awake! Arise! You are sleeping in the lap of Māyā. You do not know who you are or what you are doing. You are simply dreaming. Try to realise the value of your own existence and proceed to your life's goal.\"\n\nInspiring association\n\nThe general lifestyle of the conditioned souls does not lead them to sincerely consider spiritual life. But when the conditioned souls come into the association of the sādhus and the scriptures, they can be inspired to take spiritual life seriously. When souls are in the association of persons who can discriminate between matter and spirit, persons who are pursuing the supreme benefit of their spiritual lives, then they will be influenced and inspired. They will think about their own position more and they will begin to feel the existence of their spiritual wealth. Then the soul will begin to enquire about matter, spirit, transcendence, karma, jñān, bhakti, and so on. Through discussion of these topics in the association of the sādhus, and by engaging in the service of the sādhus who enlighten them, the jīva-souls will be benefitted and their spiritual fortune will be revealed to them.\n\nEssential questions\n\nIn Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta, Sanātan Goswāmī asked Mahāprabhu Śrī Chaitanyadev:\n\n'ke āmi', 'kene āmāya jāre tāpa-traya'  \nihā nāhi jāni—'kemane hita haya'  \n'sādhya'-'sādhana'-tattva puchhite nā jāni  \nkṛpā kari' saba tattva kaha ta' āpani\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Madhya-līlā, 20.102-103)\n\n\"Who am I? Why am I suffering within this material environment? If I do not know this, how will I be benefitted? What is the supreme benefit of my life? How can I attain that? I do not know how to enquire properly. Please be merciful to me and reveal these truths in my heart.\"\n\nSanātan Goswāmī was not foolish. He was the Prime Minister of Bengal under Nawab Hussain Shah, but he asked these questions. There are many examples of great persons in the scriptures, such as Mahārāj Parīkṣit and Mahārāj Nimi, who asked simple questions. Such questions are actually the best questions for the conditioned souls.\n\nThe inspiration to ask questions about the essence of life comes to fortunate conditioned souls through self-realisation. The Vedānta-darśana begins, \"Athāto Brahma jijñāsā: now let us search for the Absolute.\" Athāto means, \"Now, after experiencing so many things in the mundane world and gradually coming to properly realise their position, the jīva-souls come to enquire about the Absolute.\" The necessity for spiritual life can be felt by the conditioned souls only after a fundamental level of realisation.\n\nProper realisation begins by understanding consciousness and then the ātmā (self). The first lesson from the sādhu, the first lesson in spiritual life, is ātmānam viddhi: \"Know thyself; try to understand your own self.\"\n\nWhen a conditioned soul becomes a sincere seeker and he finds a real master, then both the master and student are fully satisfied. The sādhu teaches the sincere seeker how to discover his own self. Self-realisation is the best thing for the conditioned souls, and it is the real necessity of the conditioned souls. When, through their fortune, souls begin to search for their own self, they will begin to feel it, at first a little and then more and more. When their feelings come to them, then their searching spirit will increase, and they will come to understand who they are and the illusion they have fallen into. The jīva-soul will gradually realise, \"This body is not actually me. I am simply existing inside this body and mind. My mental position is playing under the influence of the illusory environment, and it is neither acting according to my soul's intelligence nor guiding me properly.\"\n\nThe transmigration of the soul\n\nThe conditioned souls under the influence of the illusory environment act foolishly, but they are not actually foolish. They need only to discover their ātmā (self). It is necessary for everyone to discover the ātmā so that they can act in their own best interest. As jīva-souls, we are not our mundane bodies. If we think about this we can feel that it is true. If my father dies and I look at his dead body, what is different? My whole life I have been seeing his body, but now it is useless. Within two or three days it will spoil and emit a bad smell. There must have been something inside his body that has now left, some spark of life. You can call it a spirit or whatever you like. Only when his spirit was present was his body active and conscious. The presence of his soul, the jīvātmā, gave life to his body. Now that his jīvātmā has left, his body is dead.\n\nIn Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā death is compared to the routine changing of clothing:\n\nvāsāṁsi jīrṇāni yathā vihāya navāni gṛhṇāti naro 'parāṇi  \ntathā śarīrāṇi vihāya jīrṇāny anyāni saṁyāti navāni dehī\n\n(Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā: 2.22)\n\nEvery day we change our clothes. We take off our dirty clothes and put on clean clothes. When our clothes become too old we take them off and never put them on again. The jīva-soul's position in the mundane world is like this. The soul changes bodies the way the body changes its clothes. When the soul's body becomes too old or diseased, the soul leaves that body and accepts a new one. In this way the soul moves along the waves of birth and death. Na hanyate hanyamāne śarīre (Bg: 2.20): the soul is never killed when the body dies. The soul is sanātan: eternal, indestructible, always fully conscious, and active.\n\nSelf-discovery\n\nIt is also very helpful to understand clearly not only the relationship between the soul and the body, but also the soul and the mind.\n\nindriyāṇi parāṇy āhur indriyebhyaḥ paraṁ manaḥ  \nmanasas tu parā buddhir yo buddheḥ paratas tu saḥ\n\n(Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā: 3.42)\n\nThe senses—the eyes, ears, nose, tongue, and skin—are the most prominent features of the body. Indriyebhyaḥ paraṁ manaḥ: the mind is superior to the senses. If the mind does not give its attention to the senses, then one does not experience anything. An elephant may walk right in front of someone, but he will not see it if he is not paying attention with his mind. In this way we can understand that the mind is superior to the senses. Manasas tu parā buddhir: the intelligence is superior to the mind. If someone does not have good intelligence, he will not get any good results from his mind. A madman has a mind, but because his mind is unsteady and not guided by his intelligence, he does not get a good result from his mind. Finally, yo buddheḥ paratas tu saḥ: the soul is superior to the intelligence.\n\nVedavyās has given us a very nice example to understand this:\n\nna rarājoḍupaś chhannaḥ sva-jyotsnā-rājitair ghanaiḥ  \nahaṁ-matyā bhāsitayā sva-bhāsā puruṣo yathā\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam: 10.20.19)\n\nIf we look for the moon in the night sky during the rainy season, we see only clouds floating across the sky. We are not able to see the moon. But how are we able to see the clouds? By the moon's light. Even though we cannot see the moon we know it is present in the sky because we are seeing the clouds with its light.\n\nLike the moon, our ātmā is covered by the clouds of our subtle body—the mind, intelligence, and false ego (ahaṅkār). The subtle body is called chidābhās, a hazy reflection of our consciousness. The conditioned souls live in the haze of their mundane mind, intelligence, and false ego, unable to directly see their true self (ātmā). But it is the light of the jīvātmā (soul) that illuminates their subtle body, and through their subtle body souls experience the mundane world. In this way we can understand that it is the jīva-soul's light that powers his intelligence, mind, senses, and body. The jīva-soul exists inside his mind and body but cannot be seen by them because it is the jīva-soul himself who is the seer.\n\nLiberation: self-determination\n\nWhen the jīva-soul begins to realise something about his position he considers, \"I am transcendental to mental and physical existence. I now have this human body and the opportunity to pursue the supreme benefit of my life.\" But when the Upaniṣads say, \"Śṛṇvantu viśve amṛtasya putrā: you are all sons of nectar\", how much can a conditioned soul feel this to be true? Only a liberated soul can feel the full form of this truth. And liberation does not mean demolition of the jīva-soul's individual existence; it means realising the jīva-soul's eternal form as Lord Kṛṣṇa's servitor.\n\nmuktir hitvānyathā rūpaṁ sva-rūpeṇa vyavasthitiḥ\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam: 2.10.6)\n\nIn the scriptures it is explained that mukti (liberation) means giving up the illusory forms we have adopted within māyā and becoming situated in our eternal conscious form (svarūp) as a jīva-soul, as an eternal servant of Kṛṣṇa—jīvera 'svarūpa' haya—Kṛṣṇera 'nitya-dāsa'.\n\nīhā yasya harer dāsye karmaṇā manasā girā  \nnikhilāsv apy avasthāsu jīvan-muktaḥ sa uchyate\n\n(Nāradīya-purāṇa)\n\n\"Anyone who gives up all other activities and wholeheartedly serves Kṛṣṇa with his body, mind, and words at all times under all circumstances is a liberated soul (jīvan-muktaḥ).\"\n\nNothing a soul engaged in Kṛṣṇa's service does binds him, even though he may exist within the material environment and his activity may look like that of an ordinary person. A liberated soul may remain engaged in Kṛṣṇa's service here in the material world or he may cross over into the Lord's eternal abode.\n\nThe transcendental service world\n\nKṛṣṇa explained the nature of His transcendental abode in Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā (15.6):\n\nna tad bhāsayate sūryo na śaśāṅko na pāvakaḥ  \nyad gatvā na nivartante tad dhāma paramaṁ mama\n\nThe transcendental world is illuminated by the light of Kṛṣṇa's divine form. Kṛṣṇa says, \"The sun, the moon, and the light sources of this material world cannot illuminate that world. They have no power to do so. Once you go to that abode you will never return to the illusory environment.\"\n\nWhy would we not want to remain within the material world? Why is the illusory environment bad? Our Guru Mahārāj, Om Viṣṇupād Śrīla Bhakti Rakṣak Śrīdhar Dev-Goswāmī Mahārāj, gave us a book named The Search for Śrī Kṛṣṇa—Reality the Beautiful. We can see this type of Kṛṣṇa conception present everywhere within this mundane world. Everyone everywhere is searching for pleasure, joy, happiness, wealth, beauty, love, and so on. They are searching in so many ways and spending so much of their energy. They are getting something of the essence of that from everything in this mundane world, but what they are experiencing in this world is only a shadow form of pleasure's essential existence.\n\nEveryone's heart is full of rasa (pleasure), but it is distorted and spoiled within this mundane environment. Everyone here is exploiting to exist. Their pleasure is always coming at the expense of others, and no one can really be happy with that. Also, because their pleasure comes through exploitation, it is temporary; it can only last for a short time before its reaction comes and takes it away. Even if the conditioned souls find a situation with good possibilities for enjoyment within the mundane environment, they cannot remain there forever. Beyond their control the karmic waves of birth and death always flow throughout the mundane environment and carry them away.\n\nThe conditioned soul may make a nice building and experience many joyful matters there, but if he is to die then suddenly he is bound to leave everything behind: his house, wife, children, relatives, property, and so on. In the mundane world anything—accidents, injuries, death—can happen within a second. There is very little hope for happiness in the mundane environment. It is not actually a suitable environment for the jīva-souls. When the jīva-souls have an opportunity to go to the Lord's transcendental abode, the eternal service world, why should they stay in the mundane world? They will not lose anything by going there.\n\nConditioned souls think, \"I have a very nice television set. If I die and leave this life, I will lose that television set.\" In the Lord's abode the jīva-souls will realise their transcendental form and live in the transcendental service plane where everything they need—joy, ecstasy, happiness—is fully present in an exalted way. There in the transcendental world the jīva-souls never lose anything and they have everything. They have full opportunity to fulfil their existence through Kṛṣṇa's service. If any soul once enters that world he will never feel the need to return to the mundane environment.\n\nMystic conscious worlds\n\nThe conditioned souls live in the mundane world, but liberated souls live in both the transcendental world and the material world. The material and transcendental worlds are completely different. Their only similarity is that they are both environments for the jīva-souls. Though they are separate, the transcendental world can appear within the material world. It is vigata kuṇṭha yasmād: it is infinite and can appear within the finite world. The material world is not material actually. It is an illusory conscious world, an illusory environment. Śrīla Guru Mahārāj said, \"Everything is existing within consciousness.\" If a jīva-soul's consciousness is covered by illusion and he is not consciously connected with Kṛṣṇa, then he exists within Māyā's illusory environment, the mundane material environment, and he is a conditioned soul. But a liberated soul fully established in Kṛṣṇa consciousness has clean and clear vision; he sees the presence of Kṛṣṇa everywhere.\n\nsarvatra kṛṣṇera mūrti kare jhalamala  \nse dekhite pāya yāra ā̐khi niramala\n\nIf any jīva-soul sees and feels the presence and influence of Kṛṣṇa everywhere, then he is not under Māyā's control and does not live in a mundane environment. Rather, he is liberated and lives in the transcendental world, even while present within the material world.\n\nConsciousness is necessary. The consciousness of the jīva-soul has two states: one under the control of Mahāmāyā, Kṛṣṇa's external potency, and the other under the control of Yogamāyā, Kṛṣṇa's internal potency. Beside the illusory environment Kṛṣṇa's divine play is going on everywhere. If any jīva-soul can understand Kṛṣṇa's play, then the illusory environment will leave him, he will get transcendental feelings of happiness in his heart, and he will enter the eternal service world.\n\nMysterious depth\n\nŚrīla Kṛṣṇadās Kavirāj Goswāmī has presented a very deep idea in Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta:\n\nkāma-gāyatrī-mantra-rūpa, haya kṛṣṇera svarūpa,  \nsārdha-chabbiśa akṣara tāra haya  \nse akṣara 'chandra' haya, kṛṣṇe kari' udaya,  \ntrijagat kailā kāmamaya\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Madhya-līlā, 21.125)\n\nHere Śrīla Kṛṣṇadās Kavirāj Goswāmī gives an explanation of the Kāma-gāyatrī mantram that we receive at the time of initiation (dīkṣā). Śrīla Kṛṣṇadās Kavirāj Goswāmī explains that there are twenty-four and a half syllables in the mantram. Generally it is peaceful and agreeable to consider that there are either twenty-four or twenty-five syllables in the mantram. Śrīla Viśvanāth Chakravartī Ṭhākur tried to understand why Śrīla Kṛṣṇadās Kavirāj Goswāmī said there were twenty-four and a half syllables. He meditated and searched for the half syllable. When he was unable to find the half syllable, he became disturbed and began fasting: \"If I cannot feel the meaning of this mantram it is unnecessary to continue living. If the meaning of this mantram will not come to me, I do not want to remain alive. I would rather die.\"\n\nHe passed one, then two, then three days without food. Finally, on the night of the third day, Rādhārāṇī Herself came to him and gave him the meaning of the mantram: \"In the scripture Varṇāgama-bhāsvadi you will find an explanation that the syllable ya, when followed by the syllable vi, is considered a half-syllable. Please be relieved and take prasādam. Do not give up your life in this way.\"\n\nThis was the experience of Śrīla Viśvanāth Chakravartī Ṭhākur with this verse of Śrīla Kṛṣṇadās Kavirāj Goswāmī. Śrīla Viśvanāth Chakravartī Ṭhākur was so learned, but he could not understand this point made by Śrīla Kṛṣṇadās Kavirāj Goswāmī. Śrīla Kṛṣṇadās Kavirāj Goswāmī tasted the deep, deeper, and deepest aspects of Kṛṣṇa consciousness.\n\nThe universe flooded with desire\n\nThis is not the matter that I feel is necessary to discuss about this verse. Śrīla Kṛṣṇadās Kavirāj Goswāmī explains here that the Kāma-gāyatrī-mantram is Kṛṣṇa-svarūp: it is a nondifferent form of Śrī Kṛṣṇa. He explains that the twenty-four and a half syllables in the mantram are like moons manifest within Śrī Kṛṣṇa's transcendental form. Kṛṣṇa's face, Kṛṣṇa's forehead, Kṛṣṇa's eyes, and so on are all described as moons. This also, however, is not the matter I feel it is necessary to discuss.\n\nMy matter is Kṛṣṇadās Kavirāj Goswāmī's expression, \"Trijagat kailā kāmamaya: the whole universe is overflooded with kāma.\" This is the fact. Kāma means desire, and kāma has two forms: selfish desire and service desire. Śrīla Kṛṣṇadās Kavirāj Goswāmī explains:\n\nātmendriya-prīti-vāñchhā—tāre bali 'kāma'  \nkṛṣṇendriya-prīti-ichchhā dhare 'prema' nāma\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Ādi-līlā, 4.165)\n\n\"The desire to gratify one's senses is called kāma (lust), and the desire to gratify Kṛṣṇa's senses is prema (love).\"\n\nIn English we translate the word prema as \"love for Kṛṣṇa\". Actually there is no word in English for prema. Prema means something like a mixture of love, attraction, attachment, affection, and sincere hankering. When Śrīla Kṛṣṇadās Kavirāj Goswāmī says trijagat kailā kāmamaya he means that the universe is overflooded with both kāma, the desire for mundane enjoyment, and prema, the desire to lovingly serve Kṛṣṇa. Kāma and prema are both manifestations of Kṛṣṇa's power, and like waves, they both constantly move throughout the universe.\n\nWhen Kṛṣṇa manifests His power externally within the mundane world as kāma, His power becomes the influence of Cupid, the desire for mundane enjoyment. Everyone everywhere in the mundane environment is influenced by that. Not only everyone here, everyone throughout the three worlds—Svarga, Martya, and Pātāla (heaven, earth, and hell)—is influenced by it. No one can avoid Kṛṣṇa's power, and His power is present everywhere within the mundane worlds of Māyā's illusory environment in its external manifestation as kāma (selfish desire).\n\nKṛṣṇa also manifests His internal power within the mundane world to distribute prema. Through His personal beauty and attractiveness He inspires the jīva-souls to engage in His service. Kṛṣṇa does this through the gāyatrī-mantram, which gives the jīva-souls a connection with Him and His abode of transcendental service.\n\nIt is explained in the scriptures that the gāyatrī-mantram comes from Kṛṣṇa's flute. Śrīla Guru Mahārāj explained the meaning of Kṛṣṇa's flute-song, that is, the meaning of the gāyatrī-mantram. He explained that the sound emanating from Kṛṣṇa's flute is fully fledged with love, ecstasy, beauty, and charm; it attracts everyone and fills their hearts with joy. It is always sweet and produces attachment, attraction, and affection. Śrīla Guru Mahārāj explained that Kṛṣṇa is always playing everywhere in that way; He is always communicating everywhere with everyone's heart. The sound of His flute, that wave, descends from the transcendental world with the power to capture the hearts of everyone in the three worlds and overfloods the external environment through the gāyatrī-mantram. That is the divine form of trijagat kailā kāmamaya (filling the universe with desire).\n\nThrough that gāyatrī-mantram the jīva-souls connect to Kṛṣṇa and are thrown into the wave of devotion, that is, filled with intense desire to satisfy Kṛṣṇa. Within a second that devotional wave can automatically lift us up to the transcendental plane like an elevator. That devotional wave can conquer our heart and give us good nourishment. Through that we will always feel the presence of Lord Kṛṣṇa in our heart, and through His service we will feel the full happiness of our existence.\n\nEverything is within us, within our own jurisdiction. It is not necessary for us to go anywhere. What we receive from our Guru Mahārāj, that is, the full form of the gāyatrī-mantram, is more than sufficient for us. If we can receive it properly we will taste it and feel its divine form.\n\nThe wave of kāma\n\nThe waves of kāma and prema are always flowing throughout the universe by the will of Lord Kṛṣṇa. One carries the jīva-souls to the illusory environment and one carries the jīva-souls to the transcendental environment. The illusory environment appears by the Lord's will as the material world, but within that the transcendental wave of prema also plays. The jīva-souls must join in the flow of these waves; they cannot avoid them. The jīva-souls are always moving under the influence of these waves. When the jīva-soul wants to enjoy māyā then he is carried away by the wave of kāma and suffers through great troubles in illusion; he forgets his abode, the service of his Lord, everything. The wave of kāma becomes the wave that rounds throughout the mundane world pushing the jīva-souls through repeated births and deaths. That wave takes the form of their karma and pushes the jīva-souls birth after birth all over the material universe, through the upper planetary systems—Bhū, Bhuva, Sva, Maha, Jana, Tapa, and Satya lokas—and the seven lower planetary systems.\n\nA departed soul once told me about that wave that surrounds souls when they leave their bodies and takes them to their next birth. After her death she was existing for some time in a neutral position on the mental plane as a pretayoni (ghost). She once quickly spoke to me and said that she could only speak for a short time because at any moment a great wave as thunderous as a storm was coming to knock her senseless and take her off to her next birth. She described this force as a wave and said she needed to leave quickly to hide from that wave.\n\nThat wave of kāma is always flowing through this mundane world by the will of Lord Kṛṣṇa. We can see its influence on society. Within the last ten or twenty years we have seen that the dress which was acceptable on television has changed. Before it was gentle and sober, but now everyone is nearly naked. This has changed in a very short period of time. Ten years ago it was not that way. This means that the world is being influenced by the wave of kāma. Day by day this is happening more and more in our society during the Age of Kali, and lastly human society will become no different than beastly animal life. But when this is happening by Māyā's influence, who can avoid it? By the influence of the wave of kāma, society is gradually moving towards a hellish position for the satisfaction of the general people. People are trying to enjoy materially, and for that they are breaking and changing the laws of society.\n\nThe wave of prema\n\nThis is related to the waves of kāma and prema, and their influence on the consciousness of people. Whenever there is disturbance in this mundane world, like we see in the world today, then the spiritual wave, the wave of prema, comes down to set everything right. Kṛṣṇa Himself says:\n\ndharma-saṁsthāpanārthāya sambhavāmi yuge yuge\n\n(Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā: 4.8)\n\nEverything is actually the Lord's play, and everyone is really the Lord's instrument. The Lord gave us freedom, expecting we would happily serve Him, but some unfortunate souls want to enjoy for themselves and thus become conditioned. To set those souls and the situation of society on the right path the Lord comes to the mundane world or sends His associates there.\n\nataeva kāma-preme bahuta antara  \nkāma—andha-tamaḥ, prema—nirmala bhāskara\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Ādi-līlā, 4.172)\n\n\"Kāma and prema are complete opposites. Kāma is like darkness and prema is like bright light.\"\n\nUnder the influence of kāma the jīva-souls cannot see anything; they live in great darkness. They can only feel the influence of that wave of kāma indirectly and are unable to avoid it. But prema is like very clean, happy light, not burning light, and it liberates the conditioned souls. Many people say, \"Mukti, mukti, mukti,\" but mukti actually means moving out of darkness into light. That is real liberation.\n\nThe jīva-souls have natural capacity for thinking, feeling, and willing, so they will automatically feel love and affection for their Lord, and be exalted with that, when they see Him through the light of the wave of prema. The solution to the suffering of the jīva-souls is dedication, love, and affection for Lord Kṛṣṇa. The Lord's service is transcendental, and through the Lord's service the kāma present in the jīva-souls' hearts is transformed into prema by the Lord's divine influence.\n\nWhen we are established in the plane of dedication we will get an undisturbed and peaceful life. Until that wave of prema transforms the desires within our hearts and carries us beyond the illusory environment, we will still be pulled by illusion's gravitational field. But when we cross the illusory environment's gravity by the Lord's positive power, we will realise our standard position. We will understand ourselves, and over and above that we will enter the transcendental plane where the eternally liberated souls are engaged in the Lord's service. We are connected with the Lord and His service before liberation no doubt, but real service begins after liberation, after we are wholeheartedly dedicated with our full energy to satisfying the Lord. When that pure mood of devotion, that wave of prema, enters our hearts, we will cross the gravitational field of Māyā's illusory environment and easily be carried by it to Goloka Vṛndāvan.\nSection Four   \nAchintya-Bhedābheda-Siddhānta\n\nDaśa-mūla-tattva\n\nTruth Eight:\n\nbhedābheda-prakāśaṁ sakalam api hareḥ\n\nEverything is a manifestation distinct yet non-distinct from Kṛṣṇa.\nChapter Nine   \nPerfect Harmony\n\nThe conception of Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu is called the achintya-bhedābheda-siddhānta: the conclusion of inconceivable difference and nondifference. Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu taught that the achintya-bhedābheda-siddhānta applies to everything, and that everything can be adjusted and harmonised by it. His teaching of achintya-bhedābheda-siddhānta is not a vād, an ism. Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu did not preach an ism. He preached siddhānta: perfect conclusions that make perfect harmony with everything, perfect conclusions that harmonise all isms.\n\nBefore the appearance of Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu there were great Āchāryas who preached different conceptions. There was Śaṅkar Āchārya and his conception of advaitavād [non-dualism], which is also known as māyāvād [illusionism]. There was Rāmānuja Āchārya and his conception of viśiṣṭādvaitavād [qualified non-dualism]. There was Madhva Āchārya and his conception of śuddha-dvaitavād [pure dualism]. There was Viṣṇu Swāmī and his conception of śuddhādvaitavād [pure non-dualism]. And there was Nimbārka Āchārya and his conception of dvaitādvaitavād [dualism–cum–non-dualism]. There were so many vāds, isms.\n\nŚrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu met with followers of all these conceptions, and everywhere He successfully established His conception of achintya-bhedābheda-siddhānta. He met many famous scholars like Sārvabhauma Bhaṭṭāchārya and Prakāśānanda Saraswatī. He discussed religion with them and gave them Kṛṣṇa consciousness through His achintya-bhedābheda-siddhānta.\n\nThe Supreme Lord: Viṣṇu\n\nOther than māyāvād, all of these conceptions are Vaiṣṇava conceptions, and following them should be considered Vaiṣṇavism. The definition of Vaiṣṇava is Viṣṇur asya Devatā iti Vaiṣṇava: one who is a devotee of Viṣṇu is a Vaiṣṇava. All the scriptures say, \"All creation comes from Viṣṇu.\" Viṣṇu means everyone's Lord. There may be many different conceptions of Viṣṇu, and many different conceptions of how to worship Him, but everyone who worships Him is a Vaiṣṇava.\n\nThe Supreme Lord has many different forms and all of them can be referred to generally as Viṣṇu. You will see a perfect example of this in Śrīmad Bhāgavatam. There it is described that Kṛṣṇa is the Lord's original and supreme form and that Viṣṇu is His expansion. There it is also described that Viṣṇu and Kṛṣṇa are a nondifferent tattva [truth]. Everyone knows that Kṛṣṇa performed the rāsa-līlā. Everyone knows that it was not Viṣṇu, and that only Kṛṣṇa can perform the divine Pastime of dancing with the gopīs all night in Vṛndāvan. But when Vedavyās described that Pastime, he wrote, \"Vikrīḍitaṁ Vraja-vadhūbhir idaṁ cha Viṣṇoḥ: Viṣṇu is playing with the Vraja-gopīs in the rāsa-līlā.\" Everyone knows it was really Kṛṣṇa who performed this Pastime, but Vedavyās used the name Viṣṇu to emphasise that Kṛṣṇa is nondifferent from Viṣṇu so that no one would conceive of Kṛṣṇa's rāsa-līlā in a mundane way.\n\nFrom general to specific\n\nIn this way we can understand that God is one, but, according to our capacity, we understand Him deeply, more deeply, and most deeply. Because of this, many different forms and conceptions of God consciousness are taught in this world for different persons. God consciousness is always one, but we see that within different conceptions there are different procedures for practising devotional life and that different forms of the Lord are worshipped. For example, Rāmānuja Āchārya worshipped Lakṣmī-Nārāyaṇ and Madhva Āchārya worshipped Bāla Kṛṣṇa.\n\nMahāprabhu Śrī Chaitanyadev knew everything, and He taught the procedure to worship Kṛṣṇa, the Supreme Personality of Godhead, who has the full range of relationships with the jīva-souls.\n\nārādhyo bhagavān vrajeśa-tanayas tad-dhāma vṛndāvanam  \nramyā kāchid upāsanā vraja-vadhū-vargeṇā va kalpitā  \nśrīmad-bhāgavataṁ pramāṇam amalaṁ premā pumartho mahān  \nśrī-chaitanya-mahāprabhor matam idaṁ tatrādaraḥ naḥ paraḥ\n\nŚrīla Viśvanāth Chakravartī Ṭhākur, who was a very exalted devotee in the school of Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu, presented Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu's conception in gist form in this verse. His expression is, \"Nanda Nandan Kṛṣṇa of Śrī Vṛndāvan Dhām is the Supreme Personality of Godhead and the most worshippable form of the Lord, the Vraja-gopīs' worship of Kṛṣṇa is the supreme form of worship, Śrīmad Bhāgavatam is the supreme scripture, and divine love for Kṛṣṇa is the supreme goal and wealth of life.\"\n\nThe sun and his rays\n\nWe can understand Mahāprabhu Śrī Chaitanyadev's conception, especially His achintya-bhedābheda-siddhānta, clearly through the writings of Śrīla Bhakti Vinod Ṭhākur.\n\ntad bhinnāṁsāṁś cha jīvān prakṛti-kavalitān tad-vimuktāṁś cha bhāvāt  \nbhedābedha-prakāśaṁ sakalam api hareḥ sādhanaṁ śuddha-bhaktiṁ\n\n(Daśa-mūla-tattva-niryāsa)\n\nŚrīla Bhakti Vinod Ṭhākur explains Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu's teaching: everything is a manifestation of the Lord and is inconceivably different and nondifferent from the Lord. The jīva-souls, for example, are different and nondifferent from the Lord. The jīva-souls' existence is compared to sun-rays which come from the sun, the Lord. The jīva-souls' existence has almost all the same qualities as the Lord, just as sun-rays have almost all the same qualities as the sun. But just as it is the qualities of the sun that exist within sun-rays, so it is the Lord's qualities that exist within the jīva-souls.\n\nThe Lord is supreme and exists with full power and quality, while the jīva-souls are very tiny and insignificant. In this way we can understand the jīva-souls and the Lord to be achintya-bhedābheda, inconceivably different and nondifferent. This is Mahāprabhu's conception.\n\nHarmonising the inconceivable\n\nThe Lord is all-powerful. He exists with all quality and qualification, and He is never subject to illusion. He is infinite and therefore able to reveal Himself to the finite jīva-souls. When the jīva-souls pray for His mercy, the Lord can reveal Himself to them and give them His ecstatic service. If He could not do this, then He would not be infinite.\n\nThe jīva-souls, though they are finite and subject to illusion, can know the Infinite (Kṛṣṇa), by His will. That is achintya, inconceivable, and that means that the relationship between Kṛṣṇa and Gurudev is achintya, the relationship between Gurudev and the jīva-soul is achintya, and the jīva-souls' service to Kṛṣṇa is also achintya. Yet they all happily exist, by the will of Kṛṣṇa, which is also achintya.\n\nThe jīva-soul is finite and Kṛṣṇa is infinite. But everyone has heard so many times that Kṛṣṇa exists within every soul's heart. This is a firm truth. But how can the Infinite live within the finite's heart? Only by the Infinite's will. That is achintya. How exactly it is possible that Kṛṣṇa exists within the heart of the jīva-soul is achintya. Where exactly He exists there is achintya. How the jīva-souls can do wrong and go off to the illusory environment when He is present in their heart is also achintya. If Kṛṣṇa exists in everyone's heart, and Kṛṣṇa's power can remove all inauspiciousness, then why are the jīva-souls conditioned in the mundane environment? Why are they attached to the mundane environment? This is also achintya. The jīva-souls are simultaneously very near the Lord and very far from the Lord. Their position is achintya. All of these examples of inconceivable relationships can be harmonised naturally through Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu's achintya-bhedābheda-siddhānta.\n\nLevels of knowledge\n\nThe jīva-souls are by nature chit, spiritually conscious and knowing. This means that the jīva-souls can by nature experience transcendental reality, that they have the capacity to experience what is achintya. To do so they only need to be free from the influence of illusion and receive the Lord's grace.\n\nThe scriptures describe the jīva-souls' knowledge in five stages: pratyakṣa, parokṣa, aparokṣa, adhokṣaja, and aprākṛta. Pratyakṣa-jñān means direct knowledge, knowledge based on what is seen and felt by the senses and mind. Parokṣa-jñān means indirect knowledge, knowledge that is learned from others based on their experiences with the senses (pratyakṣa-jñān). Mundane science, Darwin's theory of evolution, and so on, come from these two forms of knowledge. The scriptures explain that these are external forms of knowledge; they are like smokey coverings over the fire of the jīva-souls' pure conscious nature.\n\nUnder the influence of illusion the jīva-souls perceive the material environment through their mind and senses, and they also make so many misperceptions of that environment with their mind and senses. They easily mistake smoke for fog, ropes for snakes, and so on. If jīva-souls try to make conclusions about the inconceivable based on their sensory knowledge and mental experience of the mundane world, they will be confused and misled. The pratyakṣa and parokṣa forms of knowledge are ignorable for jīva-souls who want to experience the inconceivable.\n\nScientific research and transcendental existence\n\nWe can also see though that scientific knowledge has a relationship with transcendental knowledge. All jīva-souls are naturally theistic; they are made of chetanā, consciousness, and their thinking, feeling, and willing all lead them towards the theistic world. Now, in the scientific age, there is so much research going on. The subject of the scientists' research is mundane no doubt, but their research is also very successful. We now have radio, television, internet, space travel, and so on.\n\nSignificantly, we can see that the scientists have discovered how to communicate through the ether. This shows everyone that it is not unreasonable to try to connect to a transcendental source of knowledge and the transcendental world.\n\nAfter making so many discoveries Albert Einstein said, \"I am searching beyond this material world now.\" And Kṛṣṇa said, \"Bahūnāṁ janmanām ante jñānavān Māṁ prapadyate (Bg: 7.19): after a very long time someone who has actual knowledge will surrender to Me.\" Many scientists are now concluding that they have been studying so many things in the material world but that now they must expand their search. This means that the searching spirit and the nature of consciousness itself naturally leads scientists (souls) in a theistic direction. It is my hope and expectation that as scientific research progresses the scientists and everyone who follows them will proceed towards the transcendental world as they get clues about connecting with transcendental knowledge. I expect that gradually, by the mercy of Nityānanda Prabhu and Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu, the atheistic age will come to an end, and most scientists will become theistic and get Kṛṣṇa consciousness. I do not think everything will go into the line of atheism.\n\nIf someone can believe that transcendental knowledge can descend from the transcendental abode, then we cannot say he is an atheist. I have travelled all over the world, and I have not actually seen an atheist anywhere. In some way everyone respects higher knowledge and higher existence. It is just that their respect is not properly adjusted. This means that everyone has a theistic mentality and respect for theism. Whenever anyone has clean consciousness, faith, and real hankering in their heart, they can easily understand the divine form of existence that is present in the Lord's transcendental abode, full with love and affection.\n\nOverpowering revelation\n\nIn this way we can understand the position of pratyakṣa-jñān, direct sensory knowledge, and parokṣa-jñān, knowledge from others' discoveries. Above these types of knowledge is aparokṣa-jñān: indistinct knowledge of consciousness. We cannot clearly describe that type of knowledge though, we can connect with it through scriptural advice. Then, from beyond that plane of hazy consciousness comes transcendental knowledge: adhokṣaja-jñān. Śrīla Viśvanāth Chakravartī Ṭhākur has given a definition of adhokṣaja knowledge:\n\nadhaḥ-kṛtam atikrāntam akṣajam   \nindriyajam jñānaṁ yena saḥ adhokṣaja\n\n\"Knowledge that exists beyond the reach of our senses—our eyes, ears, nose, tongue, touch, and mind—that can forcibly knock down and cross over our worldly knowledge is adhokṣaja knowledge.\"\n\nWithin adhokṣaja knowledge there are stages of revelation, and the highest level is the fifth level of the jīva-souls' knowledge: aprākṛta-jñān. Aprākṛta means supramundane. Aprākṛta-jñān means divine knowledge that reveals the transcendental form of reality but may appear ordinary. Inspiration to seek this highest, fifth dimension of knowledge is most valuable. Light from that aprākṛta plane has been given to the world by Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu, who has shown aprākṛta-līlā—the divine Pastimes of the Supreme Lord's supramundane, human-like form—to be the subject and focus of all the scriptures, and the supreme goal of eternal life.\n\nSpiritual form\n\nThe Vedānta-darśana begins with the command to search for Brahma, \"Athāto Brahma jijñāsā: search for Brahma, search for the Absolute.\" This advice is actually for persons who are unqualified, who must be reminded to search within the transcendental plane. But anyone whose consciousness has entered religious ground and the religious platform can play there happily with the meanings of the next sūtra, \"Janmādy asya Yataḥ: Brahma is the source of everything.\" Brahma is adhokṣaja. We cannot understand Brahma, the source of everything, with only our mind and senses, but Brahma can be revealed to us, and that revelation can easily overpower our mundane experience.\n\nŚrīmad Bhāgavatam begins with an explanation of this second sūtram, an explanation of janmādy asya Yataḥ—Brahma. This means Śrīmad Bhāgavatam begins with an explanation of what descends from the adhokṣaja plane of knowledge; it begins from the all-powerful divine platform.\n\nŚaṅkar Āchārya's theory of māyāvād [illusionism] is summarily dismissed within the very beginning of Śrīmad Bhāgavatam's explanation of Brahma:\n\njanmādy asya yato 'nvayād itarataś chārtheṣv abhijñaḥ svarāṭ  \ntene brahma hṛdā ya ādi-kavaye muhyanti yat sūrayaḥ  \ntejo-vāri-mṛdāṁ yathā vinimayo yatra tri-sargo 'mṛṣā  \ndhāmnā svena sadā nirasta-kuhakaṁ satyaṁ paraṁ dhīmahi\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam: 1.1.1)\n\nMāyāvād is dismissed here because Vyāsadev concluded this introductory verse with the phrase Satyam Paraṁ dhīmahī: \"I meditate on Brahma, the Supreme Truth, the Supreme Reality.\" There cannot be meditation upon something that has no form, so there cannot be meditation on the Supreme if the Supreme has no form.\n\nŚaṅkar Āchārya taught that Brahma is nirākār [formless], nirviśeṣ [devoid of qualities], and niḥśakti [powerless]. He wrongly claims that the Supreme is formless and all forms are illusory. His philosophy, māyāvād, is a very bad thing. It is directly offensive to the Supreme Lord and His eternal spiritual form, and is contradictory to the teachings and intentions of Vedavyās. Inside Śaṅkar Āchārya's teachings are many miraculous expressions, but his conclusions lastly lead nearly to nāstikavād [atheism].\n\nConcealing the Lord\n\nŚaṅkar Āchārya's philosophy is no doubt very prominent in India. Still today forty per cent of the people in India follow Śaṅkar Āchārya. That is so, however, only because it is Kṛṣṇa's desire.\n\nmuktiṁ dadāti karhichit sma na bhakti-yogam\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam: 5.6.18)\n\nKṛṣṇa is always eager to give liberation to the jīva-souls. If anyone approaches Him through the proper channel He will easily grant them liberation. It is no problem for Him. But for Kṛṣṇa to give conditioned souls devotion is very heavy for Him. Through devotion Kṛṣṇa's heart can be captured, and He can be bound by love and affection to His devotee. Kṛṣṇa is not foolish, and He does not always want to give everyone devotion. When Kṛṣṇa wanted to hide the practice of bhakti-yoga from insincere souls, He ordered Lord Śiva, \"Go and preach māyāvād.\"\n\nmāyāvādam asach-chhāstraṁ prachchhannaṁ bauddham uchyate  \nmayaiva vihitaṁ devi kalau brāhmaṇa-mūrtinā\n\n(Padma-purāṇa: Uttara-khaṇḍa, 25.7)\n\nThen Lord Śiva told Durgā Devī, \"In the Age of Kali I will take the form of a brāhmaṇ, Śaṅkar Āchārya, and explain the Vedas in an atheistic way similar to Buddhism to cover and hide the Lord's position.\"\n\nSupernatural capacity\n\nIn this way Bhagavān Śrī Kṛṣṇa came to preach the theory of māyāvād in the Kali-yuga in the form of Śaṅkar Āchārya. Śaṅkar Āchārya was the only son of his mother, and he decided he wanted to take sannyās when he was an eight-year-old boy. It is a Vedic rule that no one can take sannyās without the permission of his mother. Śaṅkar Āchārya tried in several ways to get permission from his mother, but she would not give it to him.\n\nAs an incarnation of Lord Śiva, Śaṅkar Āchārya could perform miracles. One day he went with his mother to the river to bathe and performed a miracle so that he could receive her permission to take sannyās. While he was bathing in the river he arranged for a crocodile to suddenly grab him. Then he cried, \"Save my life!\" He called to his mother, \"O Mother! Give me permission to take sannyās. This crocodile is eating me and before I die I want to take sannyās. Please give me permission now.\"\n\nHis mother gave her permission at that time. What could she do? She said, \"I give you my permission to take sannyās.\" Then immediately the crocodile left Śaṅkar Āchārya alone. Śaṅkar Āchārya came out of the water, paid his daṇḍavat praṇām to his mother, and left to take sannyās. Śaṅkar Āchārya had this sort of miraculous character, and with this type of capacity he preached his philosophy of māyāvād.\n\nThe lotus eyes of Brahma\n\nWe can understand how Śaṅkar Āchārya preached his philosophy of māyāvād and how it was defeated by the devotees of the Lord through a story about Rāmānuja Āchārya. I am very much attracted to the philosophy of Rāmānuja Āchārya because Mahāprabhu has shown the glory of his teachings. There are many very sweet stories from the Śrī sampradāya. Anyhow, once when Rāmānuja was a twelve-year-old boy he defeated his Sanskrit guru, Yādava Prakāś. In the Chhāndogya-upaniṣad there is a beautiful explanation of Brahma which describes how Brahma's eyes are sweet, beautiful, and attractive:\n\nyathā kapyāsaṁ puṇḍarīkam evam akṣiṇī\n\n(Chhāndogya-upaniṣad: 1.6.7)\n\nŚaṅkar Āchārya said that this verse means that Brahma has no eyes, that Brahma is nirākār and nirviśeṣ, devoid of form and qualities. That is Śaṅkar Āchārya's description of Brahma. Rāmānuja Āchārya explained this verse of Chhāndogya-upaniṣad to mean that Brahma's eyes, meaning Bhagavān's eyes, the personal Lord's eyes, are like beautiful lotus petals. He explained that it means that Bhagavān's big eyes have a little light blue and reddish colour around them, and they are very palatable looking.\n\nIn his commentary, Śaṅkar Āchārya said, \"Kapi asam—kapyāsam.\" Kapi means monkey. Maybe you have seen at the Jagannāth Temple in Purī Dhām there are monkeys whose back part is a little reddish. This was Śaṅkar Āchārya's explanation: \"Bhagavān's eyes are like the reddish back part of a monkey's body.\" I have read this explanation in Śaṅkar Āchārya's commentary. Śaṅkar Āchārya is not foolish. It is only the divine will of Lord Kṛṣṇa that Śaṅkar Āchārya gave this explanation.\n\nWhen the twelve-year-old boy Rāmānuja heard this explanation from Yādava Prakāś he began to cry. His guru asked him, \"Why are you crying?\"\n\nRāmānuja replied, \"It is impossible! Bhagavān's eyes are not like a monkey's reddish back part! How could any gentleman make this sort of comparison? I cannot understand!\"\n\nYādava Prakāś asked him, \"Can you explain something more than Śaṅkar Āchārya?\"\n\nWe must not forget Rāmānuja was only a twelve-year-old boy at this time. He replied, \"Yes, I can. The word kapi means monkey, but kapi also means padma [lotus]. The definition of kapi is kam pibati kapi, that is, kapi means something that drinks. So kapi means the nāla [stem] of a lotus flower. Thus kapyāsam means that which lives on top (asam) of a drinking stem (kapi); it means a lotus flower. The whole verse yathā kapyāsaṁ puṇḍarīkam evam akṣiṇī means that Bhagavān's eyes are lotus eyes. Everyone knows this! Everyone knows Bhagavān's eyes are like lotuses. Why did Śaṅkar Āchārya miss this point?\"\n\nHearing young Rāmānuja's explanation, Yādava Prakāś was surprised, \"I cannot tolerate this boy, I shall kill him!\" He tried to also, but lastly Lakṣmī-Nārāyaṇ saved Rāmānuja, and Yādava Prakāś became his disciple. This type of story is found in Rāmānuja Āchārya's sampradāya. Of the four Vaiṣṇava sampradāyas—the Śrī, Brahmā, Rudra, and Sanaka sampradāyas—we see that the Śrī sampradāya has the most exemplary devotional activity.\n\nThe bright effulgence of the dark Lord\n\nIn this way we can understand that Brahma really means Bhagavān, the Supreme Personality of Godhead. But what is the actual definition of Brahma?\n\nyasya prabhā prabhavato jagad-aṇḍa-koṭi-  \nkoṭiṣv aśeṣa-vasudhādi vibhūti-bhinnam  \ntad brahma niṣkalam anantam aśeṣa-bhūtaṁ  \ngovindam ādi-puruṣaṁ tam ahaṁ bhajāmi\n\n(Śrī Brahma-saṁhitā: 5.40)\n\nBrahma, or Brahmaloka, is the plane of divine light beyond all the material universes which is described by the Upaniṣads. Many jñānīs and yogīs may study or meditate on this impersonal form of Brahma, considering it the highest destination, but that aspect of Brahma is actually an external form of Kṛṣṇa which emanates from His divine personal form.\n\nvadanti tat tattva-vidas tattvaṁ yaj jñānam advayam  \nbrahmeti paramātmeti bhagavān iti śabdyate\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam: 1.2.11)\n\nIn Śrīmad Bhāgavatam Vyāsadev explains that all the ṛṣis and munis have taught that the highest conception and destination in spiritual life is beyond Brahma, the nondifferentiated Absolute, and beyond Paramātmā, the Supreme Soul. They have taught that the highest conception is Bhagavān. Only in the Bhagavān conception—the Sweet Absolute, Śrī Kṛṣṇa—is there full-fledged theism. Kṛṣṇa is really Brahma's svarūp, Brahma's original form.\n\nŚrīla Kṛṣṇadās Kavirāj Goswāmī gave us a very clean and clear example to understand this:\n\nbrahma—aṅga-kānti tā̐ra, nirviśeṣa prakāśe  \nsūrya yena charma-chakṣe jyotirmaya bhāse\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Madhya-līlā, 20.159)\n\nWhen we look at the sun in the sky, we see it as a gloriously illumined ball though we know that inside the sun there is an environment and life and many things playing in different ways. Our vision of Brahma is like that. We see it from very far away, and we do not see directly what it is. It is actually beyond our capacity to understand directly. It is adhokṣaja [imperceptible]. We may be able to think of it at first by thinking of a light or energy not found in this world; but inside that, what we may think of as the light of Brahmaloka, is Vaikuṇṭhaloka, the variegated spiritual world.\n\njyotir-abhyantare rūpaṁ atulaṁ śyāma-sundaram\n\n(Nārada-pañcharātra)\n\nIf you enter into the glow of Brahmaloka, you will see it is actually the effulgence of Kṛṣṇaloka, and inside Kṛṣṇa's eternal abode you will find the beautiful, blackish form of Śyāmasundar, Reality the Beautiful, Kṛṣṇa, eternally engaged in His sweet play. That is full-fledged theism.\n\nIn Śaṅkar Āchārya's conception there is no Reality the Beautiful, no emporium of all rasa, no Supreme Personality of Godhead. In Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu's conception Śaṅkar's nirākār nirviṣeś Brahma is the divine effulgence of the playground of the Lord—Reality the Beautiful, Kṛṣṇa.\n\nThe Creator and His creation\n\nTo consider Brahma to be nothing more than nirviśeṣ and nirākār, impersonal and formless, is to be avoided because it is not possible. All of creation, both transcendental and mundane, has form, and all jīva-souls have form. But the Creator Himself cannot have a form? It is unthinkable. How can the Creator of everything, the Creator of all forms and qualities, have no form and qualities? The Creator cannot be less than His creation. He can never be zero. Whatever is present within us must be present in our source. We can never think that the divine source of all things is powerless and has no personality. After the Lord has created me I, will deny Him? He has given me a form, consciousness, realisation, and so on. He has given me so many things, and with them I will deny Him? It is nonsense thinking.\n\nWithin the material creation everything generally moves in a systematic way. The planets orbit around the sun and so on. How can the Creator be powerless or foolish? It sometimes may be difficult for some persons to see that everything is moving nicely under the Lord's control. Sometimes it may seem to some that everything is happening in a wrong way. But whether everything seems to be moving rightly or wrongly, the Creator cannot be considered powerless.\n\nDivine personality\n\nVedavyās said, \"Raso vai Saḥ.\" Saḥ means 'He'. Brahma is 'He', who is the Creator of all, the cause of all causes, who has His own existence, who is fully complete, who is Reality in its fullest form, and who is for Himself and by Himself as Reality the Beautiful. This expression of Vedavyās also summarily dismisses Śaṅkar Āchārya's nirviśeṣvād. If Brahma is 'He' then Brahma cannot be nirākār, nirviśeṣ, and niḥśakti. He must have form, qualities, and power.\n\nWe read everywhere that the Lord has eternal form, qualities, and power. He does not have a material form. He does not have a form like the forms we see in this world. He has a transcendental form. In Islam they do not explain this entirely, but they always pray, \"By your mercy Allah, by your mercy Allah.\" If the Lord does not have form and power, how can He bestow mercy? The Muslims also say that after death everyone will be judged by the Lord. If the Lord has no potency and personality, how can He judge everyone? In Christianity there are many descriptions of heaven. The Lord Himself, His form, His qualities, and so on are not directly described, but if He is said to be eternally playing in heaven, then He must have a transcendental form and qualities.\n\nInconceivable wonders\n\nThe transcendental, eternal form of the Lord is aprākrṭa, supramundane, and is supremely worshippable. But it is no doubt difficult to believe that the Lord's supreme form is that of a young boy named Kṛṣṇa, whom we can play with and feel joyful by serving.\n\nśrutim apare smṛtim itare bhāratam anye bhajantu bhava-bhītāḥ  \naham iha nandaṁ vande yasyālinde paraṁ brahma\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Madhya-līlā, 19.96)\n\nWho will actually believe that the Supreme Personality of Godhead Kṛṣṇa plays in the courtyard of His father Nanda Mahārāj? So many ṛṣis have done so much research and finally given us this knowledge. They have no intention to cheat us. Vyāsadev has given us this knowledge, this finest consciousness, and he has no intention to cheat us. Whether we believe it or not, it is true. It may be difficult for us to conceive, but still it is true, and when we become established in that truth we will feel complete joy and ecstasy.\n\nKṛṣṇa's eternal abode and His existence within that abode are no doubt inconceivable for the conditioned souls. How it is that the Lord has unlimited eternal forms—like Nṛsiṁhadev, Vāmandev, Rāmachandra, and Kṛṣṇa—is achintya [inconceivable]. How it is that They all exist in an eternal, fully conscious way, full with Their own spiritual property within Their own infinite abodes is also achintya. How They all exist at once within Paravyoma Dhām, the spiritual world, is also achintya. How Kṛṣṇa sometimes takes the form of Vāsudev, sometimes takes the form of Saṅkarṣaṇ, and sometimes takes the forms of Pradyumna and Aniruddha is achintya. How Kṛṣṇa sometimes shows His prābhava-vilās and vaibhava-vilās forms in His different abodes—Dvārakā, Mathurā, and Vṛndāvan—is achintya. How Kṛṣṇa can expand His power like a candle that lights thousands of other candles, and how all the candles can shine with His same supreme power, is achintya. Aṇor aṇīyān mahato mahīyān: how Kṛṣṇa can be smaller than the smallest and greater than the greatest at the same time is achintya. How Kṛṣṇa is always fully present within all of His infinite manifestations simultaneously—all of these things are achintya.\n\nAchintya means that which is beyond our capacity to think or understand.\n\nachintyāḥ khalu ye bhāvā na tāṁs tarkeṇa yojayet  \nprakṛtibhyaḥ paraṁ yach cha tad achintyasya lakṣaṇam\n\n(Mahābhārata: Bhīṣma-parva, 5.22)\n\nŚrīla Guru Mahārāj used to say that our mundane brains are like puppy brains: they cannot conceive of the transcendental reality. Prakṛtibhyaḥ param, everything we can think, see, and do is all powerless in trying to realise what is achintya, inconceivable. But when the scriptures describe something as inconceivable (achintya) and imperceptible (adhokṣaja) it does not mean that it does not exist; it means it is happily existing beyond this universe in the transcendental realm that can be revealed to us.\n\nchintāmaṇi-prakara-sadmasu kalpa-vṛkṣa-  \nlakṣāvṛteṣu surabhīr abhipālayantam  \nlakṣmī-sahasra-śata-sambhrama-sevyamānaṁ  \ngovindam ādi-puruṣaṁ tam ahaṁ bhajāmi\n\n(Śrī Brahma-saṁhitā: 5.29)\n\nHow can we conceive of Kṛṣṇa's divine abode? How can we conceive that every woman there is like Lakṣmī Devī and that all wealth is existing within each of them? How can we conceive that Kṛṣṇa is their only Enjoyer and everything there exists for Kṛṣṇa's enjoyment? How can we conceive that there we can ask a wish-fulfilling tree for a ripe mango that has no skin or seed? It is all achintya, but also, very happily existing.\n\nInternal feeling\n\nEverything that exists in the transcendental world exists within consciousness. The divine play of Kṛṣṇa's aprākṛta-līlā can be felt in the hearts of the jīva-souls through revelation. Śrīla Guru Mahārāj would say, \"Everything exists within consciousness; everything exists within bhāva.\"\n\nBhāva means mood and internal feeling. It is through bhāva that Kṛṣṇa's Pastimes happily flow. Kṛṣṇa's asura-nidān-līlās [Pastimes of killing demons] exist within bhāva, and the Pastimes of viraha [separation from Kṛṣṇa] also exist within bhāva. How can we conceive that time does not move in Kṛṣṇa's abode? That there is no past or future there, only the eternal present? How can we conceive that there every day is Kṛṣṇa's birthday, and every day is Kṛṣṇa's play day? It is all achintya.\n\nThere, whatever is present within a devotee's bhāva immediately happens in front of them. When Mother Yaśomatī thinks, \"Oh! Kṛṣṇa has gone to Mathurā!\", she faints and cries. But when she wakes up and sees Kṛṣṇa playing His flute and asking her, \"O Mother, give me some butter and sweets\", she makes these for Him, Kṛṣṇa eats them, and her mood changes. This is Kṛṣṇa's spiritual abode. That all jīva-souls have a service-place there, that all the conditioned souls can go to that plane and engage in service there, is achintya, and miraculous.\n\nTrue liberation\n\nIn the material world the jīva-souls suffer through death and birth, happiness and sadness, and so many things. They cannot cross the natural laws. But if they have a little sincere interest in the fifth dimension, in the aprākṛta plane of transcendental service, they can easily be rescued from the material world. They can attain liberation and become a member of the holiest place within Vaikuṇṭhaloka: Goloka Vṛndāvan,where fully auspicious happiness exists eternally.\n\nmuktir hitvānyathā rūpaṁ sva-rūpeṇa vyavasthitiḥ\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam: 2.10.6)\n\nReal liberation means not only becoming free from the illusory environment and the whole of mundanity, but living in the transcendental service plane as the Lord's eternal servitor.\n\nIn the scriptures five kinds of liberation are described: sārūpya, sālokya, sāmīpya, sārṣṭi, and sāyujya. When the jīva-souls practise bhakti-yoga, they can attain the first four forms of mukti for the Lord's service. Sārūpya-mukti means attaining a form like that of the Lord, sālokya-mukti means attaining a place in the Lord's abode, sāmīpya-mukti means attaining direct association with the Lord, and sārṣṭi-mukti means attaining opulence like that of the Lord. The last form of mukti, sāyujya-mukti, is bad. Sāyujya-mukti means merging into the fire of the Lord's effulgence. This type of liberation is the goal of the māyāvādīs who follow Śaṅkar Āchārya's theory.\n\nŚaṅkar Āchārya's theory of sāyujya-mukti is nothing more than the idea of a black hole. If anything enters a black hole it disappears and will never return. In his theory of mukti, Śaṅkar Āchārya said that jñān, jñeya, and jñātā—knowledge, the object of knowledge, and the knower—are all demolished and disappear.\n\nHis theory is called jñāna-mukti. Non-devotional scholars explain that jñāna-mukti is like the meeting point of three lines. They say that jñān, jñeya, and jñātā—knowledge, the object of knowledge, and the knower—are like three different lines that merge at one point and that point is liberation. Real mukti, however, is the extension of those lines into the transcendental service world.\n\nmuktir hitvānyathā rūpaṁ sva-rūpeṇa vyavasthitiḥ\n\nReal mukti is the extension of the jīva-souls' thinking, feeling, and willing—the extension of their knowledge, their environment, and themselves—into their transcendental forms for the service of the Lord. Anyathā rūpam means that the jīva-souls' thinking, feeling, and willing all merge in one point, mukti, and after that they are extended onto the spiritual platform.\n\nAll jīva-souls are naturally thinking, feeling, and willing, so love and affection automatically come to them for their Lord when they leave the darkness of māyā and enter the light of the transcendental world. Leaving the darkness of illusion and entering into the light of Kṛṣṇa consciousness is the actual meaning of mukti.\n\nInconceivable manifestations\n\nIn this way we can understand the conception of Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu and His teaching of the achintya-bhedābheda-siddhānta.\n\ntad bhinnāṁsāṁś cha jīvān prakṛti-kavalitān tad-vimuktāṁś cha bhāvāt  \nbhedābedha-prakāśaṁ sakalam api hareḥ sādhanaṁ śuddha-bhaktiṁ\n\n(Daśa-mūla-tattva-niryāsa)\n\nWhen the jīva-souls are prakṛti-kavalitān, covered by illusory matter, they live apart from the Lord. And when the jīva-souls are vimuktāṁś cha bhāvāt, liberated through their devotional mood—the improvement of their consciousness (bhāva)—they play within the Lord's divine abode. By the Lord's will the transcendental environment and the illusory environment exist side by side as His manifestations, and the jīva-souls live within these environments. Only a very few jīva-souls temporarily exist within the illusory environment, and gradually all jīva-souls come to exist within the transcendental environment of divine attraction to the Lord. In this way we can see everything in perfect harmony as an achintya-bhedābheda-prakāś, an inconceivably different and nondifferent manifestation of the Supreme Lord.\nSection Five   \nPure Devotion\n\nDaśa-mūla-tattva\n\nTruth Nine:\n\nsādhanaṁ śuddha-bhaktim\n\nPure devotion is the way.\nChapter Ten   \nSpiritual Evolution\n\nQuestion: Why are there different types of yoga if the primary aim of all of them is to get in touch with our true nature?\n\nŚrīla Govinda Mahārāj: Everything about yoga and spiritual life is concisely explained in Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā. In Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā Kṛṣṇa took the form of a Jagad Guru and gave transcendental knowledge to the world.\n\nIn the beginning of Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā Arjuna surrenders to Kṛṣṇa wholeheartedly. He prays, \"My Lord, I am fully surrendering to You now. I do not know and cannot understand what is good or what is bad for me. Please reveal transcendental knowledge in my heart.\" Kṛṣṇa took His chair as Arjuna's Guru and enlightened Arjuna with transcendental knowledge in a very clear and broad way. In the 700 verses of Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā everything is explained; all types of knowledge and yoga are explained by Kṛṣṇa Himself in His form as Jagad Guru.\n\nThe scripture Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā is Vedavyās' record of Kṛṣṇa's instructions to His dearmost friend Arjuna, but Arjuna was actually an instrument used by Kṛṣṇa to express the essence of yoga and transcendental knowledge to the whole world. Kṛṣṇa actually spoke Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā for the benefit of the conditioned souls of this world, and we see now how famous Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā is all over the world. If anyone will read Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā and try to follow Lord Śrī Kṛṣṇa's advice as though Kṛṣṇa is his own Guru, then he must be benefitted. If anyone fully surrenders to Kṛṣṇa in this way, Kṛṣṇa will never cheat him. Rather, Kṛṣṇa will always be merciful to him, and all obstacles will be removed from his spiritual life.\n\nThe basis of all yoga\n\nIn the early portion of Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā Kṛṣṇa explains that yoga means practices for progress in life, practices for sympathetic and harmonious dealings with nature. Kṛṣṇa begins His explanation of yoga by giving inspiration to everyone to avoid selfish action and instead take up yoga. Kṛṣṇa says:\n\ndūreṇa hy avaraṁ karma buddhi-yogād dhanañjaya  \nbuddhau śaraṇam anvichchha kṛpaṇāḥ phala-hetavaḥ\n\n(Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā: 2.49)\n\n\"You are an eternal jīva-soul. You have natural capacity for thinking, feeling, and willing. You cannot avoid those aspects of your existence. If you use your natural conscious property to exploit the material nature, you will not be fulfilled; you will be a miser destined to suffer helplessly. By your nature you are always active, so do something positive, otherwise you will always be the cause of harm to yourself and others.\"\n\nIn this verse Kṛṣṇa encourages everyone to take up buddhi-yoga [the yoga of wisdom]. Buddhi-yoga is the first form of yoga mentioned in Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā, and buddhi-yoga is the basis of all the forms of yoga Kṛṣṇa goes on to describe: karma-yoga, jñāna-yoga, haṭha-yoga, dhyāna-yoga, abhyāsa-yoga, bhakti-yoga, and so on. Kṛṣṇa explains:\n\nbuddhi-yukto jahātīha ubhe sukṛta-duṣkṛte  \ntasmād yogāya yujyasva yogaḥ karmasu kauśalam\n\n(Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā: 2.50)\n\n[\"A wise person engaged in buddhi-yoga abstains from both good and bad actions in this world and simply engages in yoga because yogaḥ karmasu kauśalam: yoga is the art of action.\"]\n\nBuddhi-yoga is a very wide idea. It is the basis of yoga itself, and all other forms of yoga are expressions of buddhi-yoga.\n\nSacrifice\n\nWhen Arjuna first asks Kṛṣṇa how to practise buddhi-yoga, Kṛṣṇa begins by giving Him advice about karma-yoga [pious activity].\n\nkarmaṇy evādhikāras te mā phaleṣu kadāchana  \nmā karma-phala-hetur bhūr mā te saṅgo 'stv akarmaṇi\n\n(Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā: 2.47)\n\nKṛṣṇa explains that the karma-yogī has the right to perform his prescribed duty but not to enjoy the fruits of his actions. The karma-yogī should not be motivated to do his duty because of the fruits it produces, and he should not be inclined to give up action. Rather he should be motivated by the desire to be in proper harmony with the environment and its Controller.\n\nyajñārthāt karmaṇo 'nyatra loko 'yaṁ karma-bandhanaḥ  \ntad-arthaṁ karma kaunteya mukta-saṅgaḥ samāchara\n\n(Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā: 3.9)\n\nKṛṣṇa advises that by performing actions as a sacrifice, rather than an attempt to exploit the environment, the karma-yogī will attain great piety and happiness. Action offered as a sacrifice to the Lord is called yajña. Yajño vai Viṣṇuḥ: sacrifice means Viṣṇu, the Lord. All sacrifice, and therefore all action (karma), is actually meant to satisfy Viṣṇu, and any action that is not offered to the Lord is the cause of bondage and suffering in this world.\n\nEnlightenment and meditation\n\nAfter explaining karma-yoga Kṛṣṇa says:\n\nsarvaṁ karmākhilaṁ pārtha jñāne parisamāpyate\n\n(Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā: 4.33)\n\n\"The perfection of pious activity (karma-yoga) is its culmination in transcendental knowledge (jñān).\"\n\nThrough karma-yoga one is enlightened and receives proper knowledge. Without practising karma-yoga, that is, engaging in sacrifice and service, transcendental knowledge will not actually appear in the heart. But when someone offers themselves properly and opens their heart then they are enlightened and can practise jñāna-yoga [the yoga of knowledge].\n\nThrough jñāna-yoga one understands the entangling nature of material existence and then pursues liberation from saṁsāra [the cycle of birth and death] and realisation of Brahma [the Absolute]. Kṛṣṇa advises persons who become firmly established in knowledge and the practice of jñāna-yoga to practise meditation through aṣṭāṅga-yoga (dhyāna-yoga). When one practises aṣṭāṅga-yoga one meditates, striving to remove one's consciousness from the outside world and attain to a vision of the Supreme Soul who is subtly present everywhere throughout existence.\n\nYoga's primary form\n\nIn this way Kṛṣṇa explains how selfless action (karma-yoga) leads to the yogas of knowledge, renunciation, and meditation (jñāna-yoga and dhyāna-yoga). After describing these processes Kṛṣṇa presents His final teaching about yoga practice.\n\ntapasvibhyo 'dhiko yogī jñānibhyo 'pi mato 'dhikaḥ  \nkarmibhyaś chādhiko yogī tasmād yogī bhavārjuna  \nyoginām api sarveṣāṁ mad-gatenāntar-ātmanā  \nśraddhāvān bhajate yo māṁ sa me yuktatamo mataḥ\n\n(Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā: 6.46-47)\n\n\"A yogī is superior to persons engaged in physical austerities and dry renunciation (tapasvīs), superior to persons of knowledge (jñānīs), and superior to persons of mundane action (karmīs). Therefore one should be a yogī. The best of all yogīs is the devotee, the bhakti-yogī, who holds Me within his heart with full faith, and always engages in My service. He is most intimately united with Me.\"\n\nHere Kṛṣṇa clearly expresses, through direct comparison, that the bhakti-yogī is the highest type of yogī. Within Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā gradual levels of development in spiritual practice and realisation are explained. Kṛṣṇa explains that yoga is one, but that there is a development within yoga. He explains that yoga, that is, buddhi-yoga, develops through different forms, beginning with karma-yoga, and goes up past jñāna-yoga and aṣṭāṅga-yoga to bhakti-yoga.\n\nBecause it is so accommodating and broad in its discussion, Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā explains not only its primary subject, bhakti-yoga, but also explains all the levels of realisation that lead to bhakti-yoga: karma-yoga, jñāna-yoga, and so on. This is done through the idea of buddhi-yoga. In this way Kṛṣṇa praises karma-yoga, jñāna-yoga, and aṣṭāṅga-yoga, but praises bhakti-yoga the most.\n\nBhakti-yoga is what is truly necessary for all jīva-souls eternally. The other yogas are only necessary for conditioned souls according to their relative stages of advancement. A primary school student will not understand the lessons taught in secondary school. A secondary school student will not understand the lessons taught in a Ph.D programme. Kṛṣṇa explained different stages of development in Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā, and in that way they are all important. But unless a yogī advances through the stages of yoga practice mentioned up to bhakti-yoga, he will not attain the ultimate goal of all yoga.\n\nThe ultimate path and destination\n\nEach form of yoga practice has a specific destination. The destination of karma-yoga is Svargaloka [heaven]. The destination of jñāna-yoga is Brahma, the nondifferentiated spiritual plane. The destination of haṭha-yoga is Paramātmā-tattva: vision of the Supreme Soul within all things.\n\nAll the forms of yoga practice do not lead to the same destination, and all the destinations are not the same. Heavenly enjoyment may be considered very desirable by materialistic persons, but not by spiritualists. Also, the spiritual destinations of Brahma and Paramātmā are Absolute, but there is gradation amongst them. They are not of equal value, and someone travelling east cannot expect to attain something that is found only in the west.\n\nvadanti tat tattva-vidas tattvaṁ yaj jñānam advayam  \nbrahmeti paramātmeti bhagavān iti śabdyate\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam: 1.2.11)\n\nBeyond the temporary enjoyment of the heavenly plane within the mundane universe there are three primary spiritual destinations: Brahma, Paramātmā, and Bhagavān. Through jñāna-yoga one can go to Brahmaloka, through haṭha-yoga one can realise the Paramātmā, and through bhakti-yoga one can go to Bhāgavatloka, the divine abode of the Supreme Lord, and serve there eternally. In Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā Kṛṣṇa says:\n\nyad gatvā na nivartante tad dhāma paramaṁ mama\n\n(Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā: 15.6)\n\n\"Through devotion (bhakti-yoga) you can come to My divine abode and play eternally with Me, the emporium of all rasa. From there the illusory environment will never attack you, and you will never have to return to the mundane world again.\"\n\nIn this way we can understand the position of the Lord's eternal abode as the supreme destination for all jīva-souls, and bhakti-yoga as the supreme form of yoga practice.\n\nSatisfying Kṛṣṇa\n\nWhen any of the different types of yogīs finally collect all of their energy and use it with concentration to serve and satisfy the Lord, they will truly receive their supreme benefit. They will enter the transcendental service world, become free of the influence of māyā, and feel the supramundane joy of engaging in Kṛṣṇa's service. One who serves Kṛṣṇa twenty-four hours a day is really the supreme yogī. Kṛṣṇa Himself says this in Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā. It is His conclusive opinion.\n\nWhat does a bhakti-yogī actually do? How does he engage in the Lord's service? The natural property of jīva-souls is the capacity for thinking, feeling, and willing. A bhakti-yogī engages these facilities in Kṛṣṇa's service.\n\nyat karoṣi yad aśnāsi yaj juhoṣi dadāsi yat  \nyat tapasyasi kaunteya tat kuruṣva mad-arpaṇam\n\n(Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā: 9.27)\n\nKṛṣṇa lovingly advises us how to practise bhakti-yoga: \"Whatever you do, whatever you eat, whatever you offer, whatever you give, whatever vow you keep—do it as an offering unto Me. That is your eternal duty and natural religion.\"\n\nThis sort of bhakti-yoga is the ideal practice for all jīva-souls. When our practising life will advance to this stage we will be completely satisfied. When we can engage all of our activities in Kṛṣṇa's service we will receive His mercy and feel complete fulfilment.\n\nThrough bhakti-yoga, we can merge our account with Kṛṣṇa's account. If everything we do is for the service and satisfaction of Kṛṣṇa then we will be established on the spiritual platform of existence. We will live in the transcendental service world and will not be further entangled in karma. This is the highest and best path, as well as the highest and best destination, for all jīva-souls.\n\nThe Lord's merciful appeal\n\nKṛṣṇa gave His guidance to the conditioned souls in different stages throughout Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā. He presented the knowledge of karma-yoga, jñāna-yoga, and aṣṭāṅga-yoga to bring all the jīva-souls whose minds and mentalities are attracted in different ways to the devotional platform. Finally He showed His greatest mercy in His very happy conclusion:\n\nsarva-guhyatamaṁ bhūyaḥ śṛṇu me paramaṁ vachaḥ  \niṣṭo 'si me dṛḍham iti tato vakṣyāmi te hitam\n\n(Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā: 18.64)\n\n\"Because you are so dear to Me I will now tell you the most hidden treasure that I have to share with you. Hear My advice with full faith and you must be super-benefitted.\"\n\nman-manā bhava mad-bhakto mad-yājī māṁ namaskuru  \nmām evaiṣyasi satyaṁ te pratijāne priyo 'si me\n\n(Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā: 18.65)\n\n\"I am the Supreme Personality of Godhead. Whatever you do, do it for Me. Think of Me always, devote yourself to Me, worship Me, and bow to Me, and surely you will come to Me. Your whole account will come to Me. I promise you this because you are dear to Me. Other practices will not be truly fruitful for you. The practice of bhakti-yoga must be fully fruitful for you and will give you supreme benefit.\"\n\nThe inner quality of all yoga\n\nWithin bhakti-yoga all the rules and regulations of the various forms of yoga merge together for the satisfaction of Kṛṣṇa. In bhakti-yoga all actions and their results go to Kṛṣṇa. Here we find the full meaning of buddhi-yoga and yogaḥ karmasu kauśalam: \"Yoga is the art of all activity.\" That is, through bhakti-yoga, everything is perfectly adjusted for the satisfaction of Kṛṣṇa.\n\nWhen I translated Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā under the guidance of Śrīla Guru Mahārāj I found that Śrīla Bhakti Vinod Ṭhākur, who was a very expert translator, put great emphasis on Kṛṣṇa's teaching of buddhi-yoga. He wrote that what is explained as buddhi-yoga in the beginning of Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā is actually a covered form of bhakti-yoga, and that Kṛṣṇa actually begins teaching bhakti-yoga from the very beginning of Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā under the covering of buddhi-yoga.\n\nThere are eighteen chapters in Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā, and externally they are named Karma-yoga, Jñāna-yoga, and so on. What is actually inside those chapters? We see that within all eighteen chapters of Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā the fully enlightened form of Kṛṣṇa consciousness, expressed as bhakti-yoga, is present. All the other forms of yoga—karma, jñān, and so on—are actually dependent on bhakti-yoga.\n\nei saba sādhanera ati tuchchha bala  \nkṛṣṇa-bhakti vinā tāhā dite nāre phala\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Madhya-līlā, 22.18)\n\n\"Without the presence of devotion, that is, Kṛṣṇa-bhakti, the practices of karma, jñān, and so on will not be fruitful. They have no power on their own.\"\n\nIn every chapter of Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā Kṛṣṇa connects the jīva-souls' activity within the different forms of yoga with bhakti. The results the jīva-souls may get from the various lower forms of yoga—karma-yoga, jñāna-yoga, and so on—are actually produced by the presence of bhakti within those practices. The practices of karma-yoga and jñāna-yoga are actually mixed with bhakti-yoga.\n\nThe main heart of all the jīva-souls' spiritual activity is always bhakti-yoga. Everything Kṛṣṇa explained in Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā from beginning to end, is actually about bhakti-yoga. This means that nothing within Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā can be ignored: every chapter is important for everyone, including those who practise bhakti-yoga.\n\nI have been reading Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā and practising bhakti-yoga all my life, and through that I have understood that everything within Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā is important for everyone. I have read Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā so many times, and every time I read it new meaning comes to me. But the general meanings of the verses do not become suppressed. Rather, more and more meanings continue to overflow. I am so satisfied with that. From deep to deeper to deepest, everything is presented in Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā. It is necessary for everyone to read Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā every day attentively. Day by day I am more and more enthusiastic to preach the conception taught in Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā because it is very essential for the primary religious education of all people.\n\nAbandon all religions\n\nQuestion: I read in Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā that Kṛṣṇa says, \"Abandon all religions and come to Me.\" Can you clarify the meaning of this?\n\nŚrīla Govinda Mahārāj: Yes. All religions are actually one: the jīva-souls must be attracted to their Lord, who is like an all-attractive magnet. The purpose of all the different kinds of religion practised within this material world is to give the jīva-souls consciousness about this, their main religion, their natural religion: divine attraction and service to their Lord.\n\nWe are not actually Hindu, Muslim, Christian, or anything. We are all actually jīva-souls who are covered by the illusory environment. As jīva-souls we have the capacity for thinking, feeling, and willing. And when our natural conscious capacity will come into its own clean, transcendental position, then we will automatically feel attracted by the Lord's divine form and be inspired to engage in His service. That is the main and real religion of all jīva-souls, and in remembrance of that eternal, spiritual religion Kṛṣṇa said to Arjuna:\n\nsarva-dharmān parityajya mām ekaṁ śaraṇaṁ vraja  \nahaṁ tvāṁ sarva-pāpebhyo mokṣayiṣyāmi mā śuchaḥ\n\n(Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā: 18.66)\n\n\"I shall give you the supreme in life if you take shelter at My lotus feet. Give up all other forms of religion and surrender exclusively to Me. I will liberate you from all sin. Have no fear.\"\n\nWhat Kṛṣṇa means is that the different kinds of religion practised in this material world are not perfect forms of religion's actual nature, and that actual religion is to surrender to the Lord's lotus feet and engage eternally in His service. Kṛṣṇa is teaching the conditioned souls: \"You are nonsense. You are tiny, insignificant souls. You cannot understand what is what, what is good, what is bad, and so on. You should always avoid irreligion—that is never worshippable. But not only that, you should also leave behind even your good knowledge, even your understanding of religion, even your idea of proper religious life for peace and harmony in this world.\n\n\"Just surrender to Me. I am the Supreme Personality of Godhead, and I control everything. I will take care of everything for you as well as everyone else. I will take care of the results of all your activities whether they are religious or irreligious, good or bad. You have nothing to fear. I give you this assurance. Do not be fearful. Just surrender to Me. Because you are very dear to Me I am advising you in this way. I am the only Person who can give everything to you. Surrender to Me and act according to My direction. By serving Me you will be fully satisfied.\"\n\nThe Lord's guardianship\n\nOnly the Lord, Kṛṣṇa, can say this, and it is a very serious matter. When Kṛṣṇa says, \"Ahaṁ tvāṁ sarva-pāpebhyo mokṣayiṣyāmi: I will liberate you from all sin\", He means that He will take full charge of a surrendered soul. It is actually the Lord's duty to mercifully accept the surrendered souls who fully realise their eternal spiritual position and offer themselves to Him. He must say to them, \"Yes, I am your Lord, and I am taking your whole charge.\" Kṛṣṇa promises the jīva-souls:\n\nsamo 'haṁ sarva-bhūteṣu na me dveṣyo 'sti na priyaḥ  \nye bhajanti tu māṁ bhaktyā mayi te teṣu chāpy aham\n\n(Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā: 9.29)\n\n\"I do not interfere with the freedom of any jīva-soul, but if any jīva-soul surrenders to Me and worships Me, then I will take special interest in him. I will take his charge. I will look after everything for him and satisfy him.\"\n\nananyāś chintayanto māṁ ye janāḥ paryupāsate\n\nteṣāṁ nityābhiyuktānāṁ yoga-kṣemaṁ vahāmy aham\n\n(Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā: 9.22)\n\n\"If any jīva-soul fully surrenders to Me and serves Me with all his energy, then I will give full satisfaction to him and I Myself will supply him with food, lodging, and all his necessities (yoga-kṣemam). It will not be necessary for him to think about his material life. He will only need to engage in My service.\"\n\nThe Lord knows how He will take the surrendered souls back to the transcendental world. He knows how He will promote them from the material world to the spiritual world, and the surrendered souls feel that; they feel the Lord's guardianship.\n\nThe ocean of sin\n\nWhen Kṛṣṇa tells the conditioned souls, \"Leave not only your irreligion but your religion also\", then a conditioned soul may ask, \"If I leave behind my pious activities, which are good for everyone in this world, then only my sinful activities will remain. So will I be left in a sinful position with nothing good to show for myself?\"\n\nThis question can be answered by understanding that the whole material world, where the conditioned souls live, is actually an ocean of sin. It is a world constructed for the sinful souls who are averse to the Lord (Kṛṣṇa bhuli' sei jīva anādi-bahirmukha). Generally we know what sin is. It is a very simple thing: a sin is something unlawful in this world. But here in Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā Kṛṣṇa teaches a deeper idea. Kṛṣṇa teaches that sin actually means anything not done for the Lord's satisfaction. He teaches that even pious activity is actually sinful if it is not done for the Lord's satisfaction.\n\nWhat the jīva-souls do in the material world is very simple: they eat, sleep, fear, and enjoy (āhāra-nidrā-bhaya-maithunaṁ cha). This is the simple summary of all the conditioned souls' activity. These activities may be done very piously by conditioned souls, but Kṛṣṇa's final teaching in Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā is that if these activities are not done with Kṛṣṇa consciousness, if they are not done for the satisfaction of Kṛṣṇa, then they are actually sin. Although they may be done in a way that is harmonious externally within the material world, they are actually the cause of bondage in the illusory environment if they are not dedicated to Kṛṣṇa.\n\nIt is written in the Vedas, Vedānta, Upaniṣads, and so on that Kṛṣṇa is the Supreme Personality of Godhead. In Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā Kṛṣṇa Himself says this. Many times in Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā Kṛṣṇa identifies Himself as the Lord. He declares:\n\nahaṁ hi sarva-yajñānāṁ bhoktā cha prabhur eva cha  \nna tu mām abhijānanti tattvenātaś chyavanti te\n\n(Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā: 9.24)\n\n\"I am the Lord, the Supreme Personality of Godhead, the rightful enjoyer of everything. The conditioned souls who do not recognise Me fall into the bondage of māyā.\"\n\nWhen Kṛṣṇa says, \"Ahaṁ tvāṁ sarva-pāpebhyo mokṣayiṣyāmi: I will liberate you from all sin\", He means that He will liberate you from the sinful world of māyā, from the world where it is a sin just to exist. In this way Kṛṣṇa shows the conditioned souls that all of their activity, even pious or general religious activity, is actually sinful if it is not done as surrendered service to His lotus feet. He also shows the conditioned souls that if they consciously enter the platform of transcendental service, then they can play there happily with no fear (mā śuchaḥ). Only when the jīva-souls surrender to Kṛṣṇa and serve Him with their full energy—Man-manā bhava Mad-bhakto, Mad-yājī Māṁ namaskuru—will they find proper adjustment in life, that is, true yoga.\n\nDive deep into śaraṇāgati\n\nŚrīla Guru Mahārāj also explained that after Kṛṣṇa declared, \"Sarva-dharmān parityajya Mām ekaṁ śaraṇaṁ vraja: abandon all varieties of religion and surrender unto Me\", His battlefield mentality was curtailed, and He needed to end His conversation with Arjuna.\n\nWhen the word vraja came from His mouth, His mood softened. The sound of the word vraja brought Kṛṣṇa's consciousness to Vraja Dhām, Śrī Vṛndāvan Dhām. If anyone says, \"Vraja, vraja, vraja\", their mind will think of Vraja Dhām. So why would Kṛṣṇa not also think of Vṛndāvan when He said, \"Mām ekaṁ śaraṇaṁ vraja\"? When Kṛṣṇa remembered Vraja Dhām at this time He thought, \"What is śaraṇāgati? What is surrender? That exists in its supreme form only in Vraja Dhām.\"\n\nThe word vraja actually means gaman korā, gachchha ['move', 'go']. Śrīla Guru Mahārāj explained that vraja means, \"Dive deep into Reality. Dive deep into the reality of śaraṇāgati.\" When Kṛṣṇa remembered Vraja Dhām and the surrendered devotees of Vraja Dhām in this way, His mood changed, and He ended His conversation with Arjuna. He forgot Arjuna actually.\n\nAfter His verse sarva-dharmān parityajya Mām ekaṁ śaraṇaṁ vraja He thought, \"Enough! What I have explained is sufficient, and it is not necessary for Me to explain anything more at this time.\" He concluded by telling Arjuna:\n\nidaṁ te nātapaskāya nābhaktāya kadāchana  \nna chāśuśrūṣave vāchyaṁ na cha māṁ yo 'bhyasūyati\n\n(Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā: 18.67)\n\n\"Do not give this consciousness I have given to somone who is devoid of self-sacrifice, to someone who is not My devotee, to someone who does not engage in My service, or to someone who is envious of Me.\"\n\nKṛṣṇa told Arjuna, \"Yathechchhasi tathā kuru: now you can do as you like. I have told you enough of what is necessary for you. It is not necessary for Me to say anything more. I am finishing our conversation. You can now do as you like.\"\n\nArjuna was Kṛṣṇa's intimate friend, and he understood that if he said anything more, it would give pain to Kṛṣṇa. So Arjuna immediately surrendered and said:\n\nnaṣṭo mohaḥ smṛtir labdhā tvat-prasādān mayāchyuta  \nsthito 'smi gata-sandehaḥ kariṣye vachanaṁ tava\n\n(Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā: 18.73)\n\n\"You have undoubtedly been so merciful to me, and my illusion is now gone. I am now firmly situated in my real consciousness, and all my doubts are gone. I shall follow Your instructions and do my duty.\"\n\nThen Kṛṣṇa said, \"Start the fighting!\" Arjuna said, \"Yes. This is my job, as You have given it to me, so I shall finish it as soon as possible. Then You will get some relief.\"\n\nThis is Kṛṣṇa consciousness: acting fearlessly for the satisfaction of Kṛṣṇa. Kṛṣṇa is so beautiful and so merciful. We can see that all charm, ecstasy, love, and harmony exist within the Kṛṣṇa conception. Kaṁ vā dayāluṁ śaraṇaṁ vrajema (SB: 3.2.23): who shall we surrender to other than Kṛṣṇa? Everything is present wherever Kṛṣṇa is. In the final verse of Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā Sañjaya said to Dhṛtarāṣṭra:\n\nyatra yogeśvaraḥ kṛṣṇo yatra pārtho dhanur-dharaḥ  \ntatra śrīr vijayo bhūtir dhruvā nītir matir mama\n\n(Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā: 18.78)\n\n\"O foolish King, you are asking me so many things. How can you again ask me who will be victorious in the battle of Kurukṣetra? You must understand that victory will always be wherever Kṛṣṇa is.\"\n\nWhat can I say more than, \"Take shelter of the lotus feet of Lord Śrī Kṛṣṇa!\"\nChapter Eleven   \nSpiritual Revolution\n\nIn Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā Kṛṣṇa explained the evolution of consciousness. Kṛṣṇa explained how the conditioned souls can advance from irreligious life into yoga and how their practice of buddhi-yoga can evolve from karma-yoga, jñāna-yoga, and dhyāna-yoga into bhakti-yoga. In this way we can understand that the gist of all the scriptures is present in Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā and that everything essential for the spiritual evolution of all conditioned souls is explained there.\n\nThe position of Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā has been explained in poetry form,\n\nsarvopaniṣado gāvo dogdhā gopāla-nandanaḥ  \npārtho vatsaḥ sudhīr bhoktā dugdhaṁ gītāmṛtaṁ mahat\n\n(Śrī Gītā-māhātyma: 6)\n\n\"The Gītopaniṣad, Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā, which contains the essence of all the Upaniṣads and Vedas, is just like a cow, and Lord Kṛṣṇa, who is most famous for His Pastimes as a cowherd boy, is milking this cow. Arjuna is just like a calf, asking question after question to draw out the cow's milk, and all those who are sudhīr, who have real inspiration for Kṛṣṇa consciousness, drink the cow's milk, which is the nectar of Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā.\"\n\nThis is our conception of Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā. Bhagavān Śrī Kṛṣṇa mercifully gave His divine glance to everyone through His lecture to Arjuna. He distributed the essence of the Vedas and all the scriptures for the spiritual evolution of everyone.\n\nWe have a very nice book made from the lectures of Śrīla Guru Mahārāj, Śrīla Bhakti Rakṣak Śrīdhar Dev-Goswāmī Mahārāj, named Subjective Evolution of Consciousness. Evolution means the gradual improvement of a substance. I consider that the idea of evolution is good; there is no problem with the idea of spiritual evolution. We can always see things moving up, step-by-step, towards the divine form of Reality. And we can see Reality's divine form also, step-by-step, effulgently evolving. Evolution is standard actually. It is always in front of everyone and it is the law of the spiritual world.\n\nThe line of progress for spiritual evolution coming to the conditioned souls from Kṛṣṇa is known as āmnāya. Āmnāya means divine knowledge coming down through the Vedic channel, it means the revealed scriptures, which are apauruṣeya, not made by any mundane man. Āmnāya is always fully divine. It descends down from Śrī Kṛṣṇa's flute-song through one channel, the Vedic channel. Vedavyās caught, organised, and distributed everything coming down through the āmnāya-paramparā for the spiritual benefit of everyone. Vedavyās divided that knowledge and presented it in the form of the Vedas: the Sama, Yajur, Ṛg, and Atharva Vedas, the Āyurveda, the Mahābhārata, and so on. Kṛṣṇa enlightens the conditioned souls about spiritual evolution and religious life through āmnāya.\n\nKṛṣṇa the revolutionary\n\nBut when Kṛṣṇa personally teaches the conditioned souls, He does not present only spiritual evolution. He presents spiritual revolution. Everything Kṛṣṇa Himself does is always revolutionary. Revolution is the actual subject and factor of Kṛṣṇa. Why? By Kṛṣṇa's will the Vedas, Vedānta, Upaniṣads, eighteen Purāṇas, and so on appeared in this world. All of their teachings gradually lead everyone towards worshipping Kṛṣṇa. Also, Kṛṣṇa descended in so many different forms—Matsya, Kūrma, Varāha, Vāman, Rāma, and so on—and taught proper Vedic religious behaviour. Kṛṣṇa Himself, however, always knocks the Vedic channel. He always minimises the teachings of the Vedas.\n\nThis is miraculous. I am surprised by this, and not only temporarily. I am permanently surprised by this. I have also read almost all the different kinds of śāstra, and I have read them under the guidance of Śrīla Guru Mahārāj. I know the subjects they teach and what subjective evolution is. But Kṛṣṇa's dismissal of the Vedic teachings must be surprising to almost everyone. It must be surprising to hear that the final advice of the Vedas is to ignore the general line of progress the Vedas teach!\n\nThe revolutionary knowledge that Kṛṣṇa Himself wants to distribute to the conditioned souls is Vedeṣu durlabham, \"very rare to get in the Vedas.\" Śrī Brahma-saṁhitā (5.56) says, \"Vidantas te santaḥ kṣiti-virala-chārāḥ katipaye: it is only known to very few sādhus in this world, so few that they can be counted on our fingers.\" It is very rare to get!\n\n\"I am all-in-all!\"\n\nWhat evidence can there be for the revolutionary idea that the final advice of the Vedas is to abandon them? The primary evidence for this is found in Kṛṣṇa's instructions to Uddhava in Śrīmad Bhāgavatam. Kṛṣṇa first gave a clue about His revolutionary teachings to Arjuna at the end of Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā with His verse sarva-dharmān parityajya Mām ekaṁ śaraṇaṁ vraja. But Śrīmad Bhāgavatam begins from that stage. Śrīmad Bhāgavatam begins from Kṛṣṇa's teaching not of a subjective evolution of consciousness but of a subjective revolution of consciousness. In Kṛṣṇa's instruction to Uddhava in Śrīmad Bhāgavatam we find Kṛṣṇa's revolutionary teaching from the conclusion of Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā expressed more clearly:\n\ntasmāt tvam uddhavotsṛjya chodanāṁ pratichodanām  \npravṛttiñ cha nivṛttiñ cha śrotavyaṁ śrutam eva cha  \nmām ekam eva śaraṇam ātmānaṁ sarva-dehinām  \nyāhi sarvātma-bhāvena mayā syā hy akuto-bhayaḥ\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam: 11.12.14–15)\n\nKṛṣṇa's first condition in His instruction to Uddhava was, \"Uddhavotsṛjya! Uddhava! Whatever rules and regulations were given by the Vedas, everything that was given in the Vedas for the spiritual evolution and upliftment of the conditioned souls to the transcendental abode, all of that you should avoid! Not only avoid: if it comes to you, throw it away!\"\n\nPrabhupād Śrīla Saraswatī Ṭhākur explained the word utsṛjya in this way. I heard from Śrīla Guru Mahārāj that Śrīla Saraswatī Ṭhākur used a word in the Oriyan language, phaphāḍībā, that meant, \"Throw it away!\"\n\nWhat is being avoided and thrown away? Kṛṣṇa says, \"Chodanāṁ pratichodanām: the inspiration given in the scriptures for following the perfect evolutionary Vedic line, both the śruti and the smṛti, is to be avoided. Pravṛttiñ cha nivṛttiñ cha: leave both your attachment and detachment. If you have attachment to some type of food, leave that type of food. If you have detachment from wealth, leave behind that mentality; don't care whether wealth comes to you or not. Śrotavyaṁ śrutam eva cha: leave aside all that you have heard before, śrutam, and all that you will hear in the future, śrotavyam; all the knowledge you have gathered before and all the knowledge you may collect in the future. Avoid all of it. Leave behind and avoid anything that you have heard or will hear other than the consciousness of eternal service to Me.\n\n\"What should you do? What should be your mood? Mām ekam eva śaraṇam Ātmānaṁ sarva-dehinām: surrender to Me! Who am I? I am the Supreme Personality of Godhead, the emporium of all rasa, the ecstatic ocean of rasa. All your necessities will be fulfilled when you come to Me, take shelter of Me, and surrender to Me. You will not lose anything by that because I am all-in-all. I live in the heart of everyone. Not one soul can exist without Me.\"\n\ndvā suparṇā sayujā sakhāyā  \nsamānaṁ vṛkṣaṁ pariṣasvajāte\n\n(Śvetāśvatara-upaniṣad: 4.6)\n\n\"I live with every jīva-soul like a bird next to them on a tree branch, and I watch all of their activities. Ātmānaṁ sarva-dehinām yāhi sarvātma-bhāvena: surrender to Me! You will be fully occupied by Me. I am so powerful. Sarva-kāraṇa-kāraṇam: I can do anything, everything, something, and nothing. All power is within Me. You have nothing to fear.\"\n\nIn this way Kṛṣṇa expressed His revolutionary advice: \"The laws, rules and regulations, the procedures beneficial in the lives of practitioners given in the Vedas, you can ignore all of them and come exclusively to My channel, that is, surrender to Me and serve.\"\n\nKṛṣṇa is always fully independent and detached from the general line of the Vedas. He is revolutionary and supreme. Kṛṣṇa Himself has deeply exposed the position of the exclusively surrendered soul, showing that it is not a factor whether he is externally good or externally bad according to the rules and regulations of the scriptures.\n\nIncorruptible purity\n\nIn his Upadeśāmṛta (6), Śrīla Rūpa Goswāmī gave a standard and sweet explanation of our vision of a surrendered soul:\n\ndṛṣṭaiḥ svabhāva-janitair vapuṣaś cha doṣair  \nna prākṛtatvam iha bhakta janasya paśyet  \ngaṅgāmbhasāṁ na khalu budbuda-phena-paṅkair  \nbrahma-dravatvam apagachchhati nīra-dharmaiḥ\n\nŚrīla Rūpa Goswāmī smilingly said, \"O boy! Though you are unqualified, don't be fickle-minded: never hesitate to give honour to the Vaiṣṇava. You must try to understand that the pure nature of the Vaiṣṇava is like the pure nature of the Ganges. Water is everywhere, but Ganges water is Ganges water. Ganges water comes down from Lord Viṣṇu's lotus feet and is fully transcendental. Ganges water is never polluted by dirty things. Many dirty things may appear in the Ganges but Ganges water is still Ganges water; it never loses its transcendental quality. You must give honour to the Ganges in this way, and you should give honour to the Vaiṣṇava in the same way.\n\n\"The Vaiṣṇava is to be considered pure in the way the Ganges is always considered pure. A devotee may fall down, or you may see him fall down, but where he may fall down to, and where he has gone up to, you do not know. You are only seeing him with your vision. Only up to that point are you able to see him. You do not know his actual position. If he has pure devotion, you must not dishonour him, and you must not make offence to him. You should always consider him pure, even if his body is filled with itching boils and diseases, or his behaviour appears improper.\"\n\nRadical spiritual ethics\n\nThis is Śrīla Rūpa Goswāmī Prabhu's explanation of how to view a devotee of the Lord. Kṛṣṇa's explanation is revolutionary and miraculous. Kṛṣṇa said,\n\napi chet sudurāchāro bhajate mām ananya-bhāk  \nsādhur eva sa mantavyaḥ samyag vyavasito hi saḥ\n\n(Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā: 9.30)\n\n\"Through your vision of Vedic knowledge and your understanding of good and bad, if you see an exclusively dedicated devotee of Mine, an ananya-bhāk-bhakta, doing something terribly wrong, or you see some very bad quality in him, you must never think that he is not My devotee. You must never think that he is not perfect and that what he does is also not perfect. It is My declaration that anyone who is My surrendered devotee is a sādhu, and what he does is always right because of his exclusive devotional mood.\"\n\nThis is very difficult to understand. Bad is bad and good is good. We have learned what is good and what is bad in all the scriptures. Durāchāra means someone whose actions are against the Vedic rules and regulations, and sudurāchāra means someone whose actions are extremely bad in this respect. How can we digest that someone who does something wrong in this way is actually right and perfect? What is this? Is Kṛṣṇa saying that, because His devotee has the proper resolve to serve Him, even if His devotee slapped someone, still he has done very well and made no offence? Is Kṛṣṇa saying that everything His devotee has done is very good? That even if His devotee is doing wrong, it is very good? Yes! Samyag vyavasito hi saḥ: Kṛṣṇa is saying that His devotees are ananya-bhāk, leading exclusive devotional lives, and that if any disturbance appears within their lives He does not care, and His devotee does not get any reaction for that. Naturally action and reaction are always happening in this world: \"To every action there is an equal and opposite reaction.\" But Kṛṣṇa does not care.\n\nThis is still very difficult to understand. Even the twelve Mahājans had trouble with this point and discussed it over and over. The twelve Mahājans could accept this declaration of Kṛṣṇa faithfully, but when they heard that this was Kṛṣṇa's final, conclusive declaration, and considered the meaning of His expression, they were confused about how to harmonise it with their relative vision. After they discussed the verse for some time they decided that if Kṛṣṇa said His exclusive devotee could do wrong externally but still be rightly situated, then they would have to believe it. But when they read Kṛṣṇa's next expression they became even more confused.\n\nkṣipraṁ bhavati dharmātmā śaśvach-chhāntiṁ nigachchhati  \nkaunteya pratijānīhi na me bhaktaḥ praṇaśyati\n\n(Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā: 9.31)\n\nHere Kṛṣṇa declares, \"My exclusively dedicated devotee may do great wrong externally, but what he does is also perfect because he is engaged in remembering and serving Me. Through his surrendered devotional mood he will be purified, and his defects will be dispelled. He will become dharmātmā, virtuous. He will become peaceful eternally, and he will not have any more trouble in the future. So declare to everyone that My devotees are never vanquished.\" Kṛṣṇa promises this to His unalloyed devotees and everyone.\n\nŚrīla Viśvanāth Chakravartī Ṭhākur also very nicely added in his Sanskrit commentary on Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā that Kṛṣṇa meant, \"O Arjuna, I sometimes have had to break My promises for the sake of My devotees, so even if I promise to everyone, 'Na Me bhaktaḥ praṇaśyati: My devotees are never destroyed', everyone may still have some doubt about it. So it is My order that you promise this, that you promise that My devotees are never destroyed. I cannot always keep My promises, and you cannot always keep your promises either. But I always keep the promises of My devotees, and everyone knows this. So you promise that My devotees will never be ruined, and I will make sure your promise is fulfilled.\" In this way Kṛṣṇa gave total assurance to everyone that His devotees are never vanquished.\n\nGolden property\n\nQuestion: I have heard many different explanations of this verse api chet sudurāchāro. I have heard one interpretation that the wrong behaviour, sudurāchāra, is only apparent in our vision, and I have heard another interpretation that the devotee's behaviour is actually wrong. But my question is, in whose estimation is someone an ananya-bhāk-bhakta, an exclusively surrendered devotee?\n\nŚrīla Govinda Mahārāj: In the verse api chet sudurāchāro bhajate Mām ananya-bhāk, Kṛṣṇa indicates that if you see anything bad in the character of His devotees then you should not judge them, insult them, or make any offence to them. You may choose not to associate with them, but you should also overlook their faults. You should never consider that they are actually wrongdoers, sudurāchāra. Rather, you should try with consciousness to see how their spiritual life is going on and honour them as devotees of the Lord. You must think, \"They have the golden property of surrender and devotion in their hearts (ananya-bhāk bhakti). They are devotees of Kṛṣṇa, and they would never do anything wrong willingly. Howsoever they happen to act is surely for the satisfaction of the Lord and must be positive.\"\n\nIf a piece of gold falls into a dirty place it is still respected as gold. It will not be ignored or dismissed. Similarly, you should never ignore the golden property in the hearts of devotees. You should always consider that the golden property of devotion is within them. Even if their activity does not appear proper you should never ignore the golden property within them. At any moment that gold may be taken out of that dirty place and shine cleanly. You should be very serious and cautious before commenting anything negative about them. For your own safety you should be very careful not to make any offence to them. This is the meaning of sādhur eva sa mantavyaḥ.\n\nKṛṣṇa's next verse, kṣipraṁ bhavati dharmātmā śaśvach-chhāntiṁ nigachchhati, also supports this idea. Śrīla Bhakti Vinod Ṭhākur relieved the confusion of the Mahājans by explaining that in this verse Kṛṣṇa means, \"If you consciously consider that their activity is not bad but really is good, that they are fully surrendered to Kṛṣṇa and what you thought was bad in their character was actually good, then you will become righteous and peaceful, then you will become a great devotee of Kṛṣṇa.\"\n\nIn our life we can see everything as our enemy, and we can also see everything as our friend. Our duty is to make friends, not enemies, and if we try heart and soul to do this through this revolutionary adjustment of our consciousness given by Kṛṣṇa, then we must get a good result, and what looks bad to us now we will see in the future is actually good for us.\n\nReal sin and piety\n\nIn this way we can understand the revolutionary teachings of Kṛṣṇa. He makes the rules. He reveals the Vedic scriptures and evolutionary spiritual teachings, and He also dismisses them. He makes the rules, and He also breaks the rules.\n\nIt is very difficult for general people to digest. Many persons are able to understand something about Vedic knowledge, Vedic culture, philosophy, and so on, but they struggle to understand this finest point. The main point of understanding needed to harmonise everything—to properly understand Kṛṣṇa's revolutionary teaching—is given by Kṛṣṇa in the Padma-purāṇa:\n\nman-nimittaṁ kṛtaṁ pāpaṁ api dharmāya kalpate  \nmām anādṛtya dharmo 'pi pāpaṁ syān mat-prabhāvataḥ\n\n(Padma-purāṇa)\n\nKṛṣṇa says, \"Anything you do for Me, even if it is sinful according to Vedic law, is actually a pious act (dharma), and anything you do that is not for Me, even if it is pious according to Vedic law, is actually a sinful act.\"\n\nKṛṣṇa's advice is revolutionary but also simple. It is actually a direct description of the jīva-soul's position as His eternal servant. Kṛṣṇa's teaching is actually an expression of the universal spirituality natural to all souls: anything not done in Kṛṣṇa consciousness is sinful, and everything done for Kṛṣṇa is pious. This is the key to harmonising everything and understanding Kṛṣṇa's revolutionary teaching at the conclusion of Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā and throughout Śrīmad Bhāgavatam—Kṛṣṇa's subjective revolution of consciousness.\n\nThe purifying force of devotion\n\nŚrīla Guru Mahārāj once questioned Śrīla Saraswatī Ṭhākur about what should be done when a gentle devotee does something wrong. Śrīla Guru Mahārāj was highly educated and an authority in material law. He was thinking that a devotee should be punished according to material rules when he breaks the rules or regulations, but Śrīla Saraswatī Ṭhākur did not agree. Śrīla Saraswatī Ṭhākur said, \"Your forehead, that is, your future, is born from your conception. Maṇi-maya-mandira-madhye paśyati pipīlikā chidram: if you focus on the faults of a devotee then your conception will be like that of an ant. An ant enters a temple decorated with golden jewels and looks only for the holes in the walls. Only when you look for the good qualities in the devotees will your future be exalted. Only then will you proceed properly towards service.\"\n\nŚrīla Saraswatī Ṭhākur answered Śrīla Guru Mahārāj in this way but did not fully answer his question. Then one day about six months later in Madras as Śrīla Saraswatī Ṭhākur was reading Śrīmad Bhāgavatam in his room, a verse came before him, and he called for Śrīla Guru Mahārāj, \"Here is the answer to your question.\" Śrīla Guru Mahārāj had asked Śrīla Saraswatī Ṭhākur his question about the misbehaviour of devotees six months before. When Śrīla Saraswatī Ṭhākur said, \"Here is your question's answer,\" Śrīla Guru Mahārāj was surprised and thought, \"What is my question?\" When Śrīla Saraswatī Ṭhākur handed him the book and Śrīla Guru Mahārāj saw the verse, he immediately remembered and understood which question Śrīla Saraswatī Ṭhākur was answering. That verse was,\n\nsva-pāda-mūlaṁ bhajataḥ priyasya  \ntyaktānya-bhāvasya hariḥ pareśaḥ  \nvikarma yach chotpatitaṁ kathañchid  \ndhunoti sarvaṁ hṛdi sanniviṣṭaḥ\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam: 11.5.42)\n\nThe meaning is that it is not necessary to apply material law to dedicated devotees of the Lord. It is possible that dedicated devotees may do something wrong; their mundane body and mental position are not always in a liberated state. It is possible that they may sometimes be polluted by the illusory environment. But because they are dedicated, because they are serving the Lord and chanting His Holy Name, the Lord is living within their heart, and the Lord will clean their heart. The Lord will remove their offences by His divine influence. If they are dedicated to Kṛṣṇa then He will take care of everything. It is not necessary for a dedicated devotee to do any prāyaśchitta, atonement.\n\nWe can also understand that a dedicated devotee will always feel anutāp, regret, when they understand that they have done something wrong. They will think, \"Why have I done this? It is very bad!\" They will scrutinise themselves very seriously in this way, and the fire of their repentance will purify their hearts of pollution. This verse (sva-pāda-mūlam) is necessary for everyone to discuss and understand. There are very powerful feelings within it, and when everyone will understand it they will be purified very quickly.\n\nService to the Lord is transcendental, no doubt, but we cannot say when liberation will come in the life of a dedicated soul. It is also necessary for everyone to follow the material and social laws, and maintain themselves in the material world without making any disturbance in society. People are always hating others when they see them improperly following the laws of society, but no solution to that comes through hate. The only solution is dedication and service to the Lord. The Lord and the power of devotion purify the hearts of everyone and remove any and all traces of mundane desire and ego. Nothing external can do that.\n\nPositive vision\n\nŚrīla Guru Mahārāj taught us that whenever we see a bad quality in someone it is a test given to us by Kṛṣṇa to purify us. Śrīla Guru Mahārāj gave us that vision, and we feel that if everyone will see with that type of vision, then Kṛṣṇa will be happy, and everyone will be spiritually benefitted. This is so important because we live in an ocean of faults, and we can find someone with faults everywhere. Many of the spiritual practitioners around us are not perfect. We will become hopeless if we do not try to see the good qualities in others and in our environment.\n\nA Western scholar, Katherine Mayo, once came to India to learn about Indian philosophy but after arriving she publicly criticised Indian culture. When this happened Mahatma Gandhi said, \"She has not come to appreciate the wealth of India. She has come to inspect India's drains. She is a drain inspector.\" We heard this story from Śrīla Guru Mahārāj.\n\nWe should not be drain inspectors. By Kṛṣṇa's mercy we should try to see beauty and charm everywhere. Śrīla Guru Mahārāj said, \"To err is human and to forgive is divine.\" Everyone has imperfections and will sometimes do something wrong. Why should we lose our own devotional mood because of that? Through his devotional mood Śrīla Guru Mahārāj could see goodness everywhere. He would give great respect to all devotees, and also give great respect even to persons who were against Vaiṣṇavism.\n\nDedicated devotees may do something wrong but we should not act like ants that see only the holes of a golden temple (maṇi-maya-mandira-madhye paśyati pipīlikā chidram). We should not be a drain inspector looking for devotees' faults. We have much more capacity than ants. We should see that all dedicated devotees have golden property within their hearts, and we should consciously try to recognise their good qualities.\n\nThe sole necessity of devotion\n\nPersons who have mundane qualifications and persons who have no mundane qualifications appear the same to Kṛṣṇa. Kṛṣṇa only wants our eagerness and hankering, our mood of devotion. If we have that, then Kṛṣṇa will be merciful to us. Kṛṣṇa is like an exalted sun: His rays can drive away all inauspiciousness from anyone. Someone's mundane qualifications are not notable for Kṛṣṇa, and someone's mundane disqualifications are also not a problem for Kṛṣṇa. In Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā Kṛṣṇa says,\n\npatraṁ puṣpaṁ phalaṁ toyaṁ yo me bhaktyā prayachchhati  \ntad ahaṁ bhakty-upahṛtam aśnāmi prayatātmanaḥ\n\n(Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā: 9.26)\n\n\"If anyone offers Me with love and devotion a leaf, flower, fruit, or water, I will affectionately accept that offering.\"\n\nmūrkho vadati viṣṇāya dhīro vadati viṣṇave  \nubhayos tu samaṁ puṇyaṁ bhāva-grāhī janārdanaḥ\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-bhāgavat: Ādi-khaṇḍa, 11.108)\n\nSomeone who does not know proper Sanskrit grammar may offer food to the Lord saying, \"Viṣṇāya namaḥ.\" This is a common grammatical mistake. Someone who is expert in grammar will offer food to the Lord saying, \"Viṣṇave namaḥ.\" This is correct grammar. But if both persons have devotion, then the Lord will accept both of their offerings.\n\nThe Lord does not consider grammar or external qualifications; He considers the heart. He sees only someone's mood of devotion. It is necessary to offer everything to the Lord with devotion, bhaktyā prayachchhati. Without devotion nothing is actually satisfying to the Lord because the Lord is bhāva-grāhī Janārdanaḥ, the enjoyer of the devotee's heart and devotional mood.\n\nOnce when I was in Purī Dhām during the time of Ratha Yātrā the Director General of Police of the state of Orissa came to visit me. He was very learned. His knowledge was like an ocean and he had defeated many sādhus who had come to Purī. He had read all different types of philosophy: the writings of Rāmānuja, Śaṅkar Āchārya, Buddha, Confucius, Christ, and so on. No one could defeat him in debate. When I spoke with him I was very surprised to hear a very nice verse from him that is dear to all devotees:\n\nvyādhasyācharaṇaṁ dhruvasya cha vayo vidyā gajendrasya kā  \nkubjāyāḥ kim u nāma rūpam adhikaṁ kiṁ tat sudāmno dhanam  \nvaṁsaḥ ko vidurasya yādava-pater ugrasya kim pauruṣaṁ  \nbhaktyā tuṣyati kevalaṁ na cha guṇair bhakti-priyo mādhavaḥ\n\n(Padyāvalī: 8)\n\nThis verse explains that Kṛṣṇa consciousness does not depend upon any external qualifications, and it presents many examples from Śrīmad Bhāgavatam to prove this. A hunter who killed deer in the jungle and did not follow Vedic culture got a chance to worship Nārāyaṇ, so proper behaviour cannot be the cause of pleasing the Lord. Dhruva received Viṣṇu's mercy when he was only five years old, so age cannot be the cause of receiving the Lord's mercy. Gajendra the elephant had no proper Vedic knowledge, but the Lord answered his prayer; so knowledge cannot be the cause of receiving the Lord's grace. Kubjā was not beautiful, but she satisfied the Lord with her devotion. Sudāma Vipra had no money, but he satisfied the Lord through his devotion. Through these examples and others, this verse shows that the Lord is satisfied by the mood of devotion within His devotees, not their external qualifications.\n\nWhen I heard this verse from the policeman I was surprised, \"This man is the head of the police department but he is quoting this verse which has a purely devotional theme.\" I spoke with him for about half an hour and he was very satisfied. Now by the will of Kṛṣṇa he is my very good friend and wants to become my disciple.\n\nSwinging on a meat-scale\n\nThere is also a story in the Mahābhārata I have told many times about a hunter who used a Śālagram-śilā as a weight for his scale when he sold meat in the market to make his living. Once a brāhmaṇ came by and saw the Śālagram-śilā on the meat scale. He chastised the hunter: \"O you sinful man! You are using a Śālagram-śilā as a weight to sell meat. That stone is Lord Nārāyaṇ Himself; you are making a great offence.\"\n\nThe hunter was very simple-hearted and believed the brāhmaṇ that the stone was Nārāyaṇ Himself. He became afraid and apologised to the brāhmaṇ: \"I did not know this stone was a Śālagram-śilā. What should I do now?\"\n\nThe brāhmaṇ said, \"Give me this Śālagram-śilā; I will make sure that it is properly worshipped.\" The hunter gave the brāhmaṇ the Śālagram-śilā, and the brāhmaṇ offered the Śālagram-śilā tulasī, abhiṣek, bhoga, ārati, and everything. The brāhmaṇ worshipped the Śālagram-śilā properly according to all the rules and regulations of the Vedas, but after two or three days the Śālagram-śilā appeared in a dream to the brāhmaṇ as Nārāyaṇ Himself and said, \"I was very happy swinging on the scale of that hunter. Every day he gave Me very nice nourishment in that way. You have now disturbed My mind. Please give Me back to that hunter.\"\n\nThe Lord was not happy to be with someone who was simply following the rules and regulations of the Vedas. What the brāhmaṇ did was not wrong; it was correct according to the Vedas. And it is the Lord Himself who gave the Vedic scriptures to society. But the Lord actually always wants to be with His exclusive devotees. The Lord considers faith, dedication, and devotion for Him to be supreme.\n\nKṛṣṇa's play and satisfaction\n\nUnalloyed devotional mood, straight devotional spirit, is the real basis of surrender and dedication, not rules and regulations. Unalloyed surrender is Kṛṣṇa's real desire for the conditioned souls. Śrīla Guru Mahārāj taught me this; I learned it from him, and I am following it one hundred per cent. I am trying to follow it one hundred per cent. My associates are also proceeding in that way, in the line of pure Kṛṣṇa consciousness—the search for Śrī Kṛṣṇa Reality the Beautiful. This is the true form of religion.\n\nKṛṣṇa is a revolutionary. Kṛṣṇa makes the rules, and Kṛṣṇa breaks the rules. Why? For Himself. \"Reality is by Itself and for Itself.\" Kṛṣṇa is the Absolute Reality by Himself and for Himself. Everything is really only for His play and satisfaction. The jīva-souls who realise this revolutionary ideal experience the supreme joy of Kṛṣṇa consciousness.\nChapter Twelve   \nSurrender\n\nDevotee: I have heard of two different analogies for surrender, mārjara-kiśora-nyāya, the surrender of the kitten who is carried by his mother, and markaṭa-kiśora-nyāya, the surrender of the baby monkey who holds on to his mother. Which example is the proper conclusion in the line of Kṛṣṇa consciousness?\n\nŚrīla Govinda Mahārāj: Neither of these examples of surrender is perfect. We have seen cats carrying their kittens, but we have also seen monkeys carrying their babies when they are sick. A baby kitten and a baby monkey are not actually surrendering to their mothers; they are simply continuing their lives in a natural way. A baby monkey naturally holds on to his mother, and a mother cat naturally protects her kitten. In these examples there is no consciousness: the baby and mother are simply living in a natural way.\n\nWe must surrender to the Lord with consciousness. A mood of surrender is what is actually necessary for us. We must always be consciously dependent on Kṛṣṇa and fully surrendered to Him. We must always try to satisfy Him with all of our energy. Prabhu's question actually is, \"Who is responsible, the Lord or the jīva-soul?\" The full responsibility is ours, but when we try to approach Kṛṣṇa He will also see us and help us.\n\nKṛṣṇa has given us freedom, and we have misused that. We have come into great difficulty and become bound by Māyā. It is now necessary for us to stop misusing our freedom and surrender wholeheartedly to Kṛṣṇa. When Kṛṣṇa sees that we are fully surrendered to Him He will be eager to take us out of our very low position, bring us to a high position, and give us His service. If we sacrifice our freedom and surrender at His lotus feet, then Kṛṣṇa will see that and help us.\n\nkṛṣṇa āmāya pāle rākhe jāna sarva-kāla  \nātma-nivedana-dainye ghuchāo jañjāla\n\n(Śrī Prema-vivarta: 7.7)\n\nŚrīla Bhakti Vinod Ṭhākur explained that if we humbly and fully surrender to Kṛṣṇa with the mood that, \"Kṛṣṇa will always protect me\", then all obstacles and other obligations will be ousted from us by Kṛṣṇa's grace. We need this mood of perfect surrender.\n\nThe jīva-soul's duty is to be active in Kṛṣṇa's service in a surrendered mood. Here is a perfect example of how Kṛṣṇa bestows His mercy upon a surrendered soul:\n\nsva-mātuḥ svinna-gātrāyā visrasta-kabara-srajaḥ  \ndṛṣṭvā pariśramaṁ kṛṣṇaḥ kṛpayāsīt sva-bandhane\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam: 10.9.18)\n\n\"When Kṛṣṇa saw His mother was trying so hard to bind Him and becoming exhausted, when He saw that the flowers in her hair were falling down and her whole body was covered with sweat, He became merciful to her and allowed her to bind Him.\"\n\nMother Yaśodā tried so hard to bind Kṛṣṇa with a rope. She tried many times and collected more, and more rope each time, but her rope always ended up two fingers too short and she failed to bind Kṛṣṇa. Only after she tried so hard and became very tired did Kṛṣṇa allow her to bind Him.\n\nThis is a perfect example. The jīva-souls will try as far as possible by them to satisfy the Lord, and when even with their full eagerness they are not successful, then Kṛṣṇa will come to help them. Kṛṣṇa wants to see how much you will give of yourself to Him. He wants to see that you start out with a pure desire to satisfy Him. Then He will respond to you. Depending upon how perfectly you start your approach to Kṛṣṇa with a pure mood of surrender, He will bestow His mercy upon you. In this way we can understand the process of surrender (śaraṇāgati) in the line of Kṛṣṇa consciousness.\n\nRocketing to the spiritual world\n\nDevotee: What is the starting point of śaraṇāgati?\n\nŚrīla Govinda Mahārāj: Śaraṇāgati starts from the point of śraddhā (faith). The mood of perfect surrender will come to us through śraddhā.\n\n'śraddhā'-śabde—viśvāsa kahe sudṛḍha niśchaya  \nkṛṣṇe bhakti kaile sarva-karma kṛta haya\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Madhya-līlā, 22.62)\n\n\"Śraddhā means confident, firm faith that everything will be fulfilled, and everything impossible will become possible, by serving Kṛṣṇa.\"\n\nWhat is what, who is who—everything—is determined by our faith. Faith is the basis of all religions, not only the Vaiṣṇava religion, because faith is the jīva-soul's true and best property. Faith is always the friend of everyone, and if we have faith in Kṛṣṇa consciousness, we will be able to adjust everything.\n\nsakala chhāḍiyā bhāi, śraddhā-devīra guṇa gāi,  \nyā̐ra kṛpā bhakti dite pāre\n\n(Śrīla Bhakti Vinod Ṭhākur)\n\n\"Giving up everything, sing the glories of Śraddhā Devī [the goddess of faith], by whose mercy we can feel the presence of devotion in our hearts.\"\n\nFaith is our main property. We should never lose our faith. Our faith must also grow. It must become stronger and stronger until it reaches an unshakable position. Our faith must be transcendental, sincere, and chaste. You cannot throw a rocket from anywhere; you must have a substantial foundation. When your faith becomes unshakable and you understand the fundamental position of surrender and devotion to Kṛṣṇa, then you will be worry-free, and śaraṇāgati, your mood of surrender, will protect you. You will have an unshakable launching pad, and from there you will be able throw your rocket across the illusory environment to Goloka Vṛndāvan. The spiritual world exists entirely within the plane of faith, and anyone whose faith is very strong will get that highest property when his faith takes on a transcendental form and is successfully activated in his heart. Everything will be revealed to him.\n\nDevotion is awakened by devotion\n\nTo have one hundred per cent faith in Lord Kṛṣṇa is not easy. We live in the mundane world and deal with many material things, so our faith is naturally influenced by our impressions of this world.\n\nprakṛtibhyaḥ paraṁ yach cha tad achintyasya lakṣaṇam\n\n(Mahābhārata: Bhīṣma-parva, 5.22)\n\n\"Kṛṣṇa is achintya. He is beyond our mundane experience.\" How can we develop faith in Him and His divine service? Kṛṣṇa's causeless mercy is always flowing throughout this mundane world, and if any conditioned soul is touched by that merciful wave, then he will receive some nitya-sukṛti [spiritual fortune], which will bring him faith.\n\nGeneral pious activities like feeding people can bring good fortune to people, but that is anitya-sukṛti [temporary merit]. Nitya-sukṛti, eternal fortune, is gained by being connected with the Lord's affairs, by rendering service to the Lord's devotees, the Lord's temples, or anything connected with the Lord.\n\nWhen a conditioned soul receives the opportunity to serve the Lord in some way and he collects sufficient nitya-sukṛti, then śraddhā develops in his heart automatically by the mercy of the Lord. As nitya-sukṛti develops into śraddhā within his heart the conditioned soul can begin to associate with sādhus. Before the conditioned soul can associate with sādhus properly he needs faith in them. This comes to him through nitya-sukṛti. Once the conditioned soul has a little faith in sādhus then his faith will become stronger and stronger through the sādhus' association.\n\nThe illusory environment will not be able to attack the conditioned soul in any way if he tries to proceed in his spiritual life faithfully under the guidance of sādhus. Sādhu does not only mean someone wearing saffron cloth. A sādhu may be a gṛhastha, a brahmachārī, or vānaprastha. If anyone is a sincere devotee of Lord Kṛṣṇa then he must be considered a sādhu.\n\nkṛṣṇa-bhakta—niṣkāma, ataeva 'śānta'  \nbhukti-mukti-siddhi-kāmī—sakali 'aśānta'\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Madhya-līlā, 19.149)\n\nAnyone who serves Rādhā-Govinda twenty-four hours a day without selfish interest under the guidance of his Guru is a real devotee and real sādhu. His association will always be good and give everyone good nourishment in their spiritual life. In the association of a real sādhu the conditioned soul's faith and service attitude will increase more and more. This is the path given by Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu, Śrīmad Bhāgavatam and all the scriptures: bhaktyā sañjātayā bhaktyā (SB: 11.3.31), devotion is awakened by devotion.\n\nIn exclusive devotional practising life only the process and the mercy of a real practitioner, a sādhu, will give the conditioned souls more and more faith, enthusiasm, and inspiration to serve their Lord. Under the guidance of a proper sādhu the conditioned souls will collect more and more devotional property in their heart, that is, faith and real hankering to serve the Lord, and their spiritual practising life will develop.\n\nWhen someone has full faith that, \"Kṛṣṇa is the supreme for me. He is my life and soul, and His service is my life's only goal\", then we can say he is a śaraṇāgata, a soul surrendered unto Lord Kṛṣṇa. This is the natural position and religion of all jīva-souls even though it may be very difficult for conditioned souls to follow.\n\nIndispensable surrender\n\nThe conditioned souls suffer so much in Māyā's illusory environment. Through their karma they experience so much sadness, confusion, and unsuccessfulness. But Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu has taught that when the conditioned souls become established in Kṛṣṇa consciousness, when they are established in the transcendental service world of dedication to Lord Kṛṣṇa through faith, chastity, and sincerity, then they can very quickly cross over the illusory environment. There is no other way to do this than through śaraṇāgati, surrender.\n\nThe conditioned souls need to change their hearts and dedicate themselves to Lord Kṛṣṇa. That will give them the super-benefit of their lives. But śaraṇāgati is first of all necessary. Without śaraṇāgati no one can enter the transcendental service world, no one can offer anything to Lord Kṛṣṇa or do anything devotional. Because of this Śrīla Bhakti Vinod Ṭhākur, Śrīla Bhakti Siddhānta Saraswatī Ṭhākur, and Śrīla Guru Mahārāj, Śrīla Bhakti Rakṣak Śrīdhar Dev-Goswāmī Mahārāj, have tried to give the conditioned souls inspiration to surrender. This is the primary purpose of their teachings.\n\nWhen Śrīla Guru Mahārāj left the Gauḍīya Mission his first target was to give the conditioned souls knowledge about the proper mood of surrender to the Lord. Śrīla Guru Mahārāj had full scriptural knowledge, and he gave so many supremely beneficial gifts to the conditioned souls, but he especially decided that śaraṇāgati is the first and best thing for everyone. He composed his Śrī Śrī Prapanna-jīvanāmṛtam—Nectar in the Lives of the Surrendered Souls with this in mind: to give the conditioned souls enlightening knowledge about the proper mood of surrender to the Lord.\n\nPure śaraṇāgati\n\nThe qualities of śaraṇāgati have been identified in the scriptures:\n\nānukūlyasya saṅkalpaḥ prātikūlya vivarjanam  \nrakṣiṣyatīti viśvāso goptṛtve varaṇaṁ tathā  \nātma-nikṣepa kārpaṇye ṣaḍ-vidhā śaraṇāgatiḥ\n\n(Śrī Sātvata-tantra: 73)\n\nŚrīla Guru Mahārāj composed his Prapanna-jīvanāmṛtam according to these procedures for surrender that are given in the scriptures. I have read so many things about these qualities of śaraṇāgati from so many places, but what Śrīla Guru Mahārāj has given is supreme. In a verse from his Prapanna-jīvanāmṛtam he has given us a very nice, clear explanation of śaraṇāgati that is a perfect jewel you cannot find anywhere else. It is the most essential prescription given anywhere for everyone to enter the transcendental service world. If you can memorise just this one verse and put it in your heart, then you will receive everything ever given in any scripture.\n\nbhagavad-bhaktitaḥ sarvam ity utsṛjya vidher api  \nkaiṅkaryaṁ kṛṣṇa-pādaikāśrayatvaṁ śaraṇāgatiḥ\n\n(Śrī Śrī Prapanna-jīvanāmṛtam: 1.35)\n\nHere Śrīla Guru Mahārāj expresses that śaraṇāgati means faith that Bhagavad-bhaktitaḥ sarvam, that through devotion to Bhagavān you will get everything. Bhagavān means the Supreme Personality of Godhead Kṛṣṇa, the Akhila-rasāmṛta-mūrti, the emporium of all rasa, who possesses all worshippable qualities. Everything you want and need—rasa, ecstasy, joy, nourishment, and so on—will automatically come to you through His service. Your life will be glorious, successful, and perfect through devotion to Lord Kṛṣṇa. Not only will you receive everything you need internally, but full facility to serve Kṛṣṇa will also come to you.\n\nvāsudeve bhagavati bhakti-yogaḥ prayojitaḥ  \njanayaty āśu vairāgyaṁ jñānaṁ cha yad ahaitukam\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam: 1.2.7)\n\nAutomatically renunciation from this material world will come to you and spiritual knowledge will be revealed in your heart.\n\nbhaktis tvayi sthiratarā bhagavan yadi syād  \ndaivena naḥ phalati divya-kiśora-mūrtiḥ  \nmuktiḥ svayaṁ mukulitāñjali sevate 'smān  \ndharmārtha-kāma-gatayaḥ samaya-pratīkṣāh\n\n(Śrī Kṛṣṇa-karṇāmṛta: 107)\n\nMokṣa, liberation, will come to you with folded palms and ask, \"What service shall I do for you?\" Dharma, artha, and kāma [piety, wealth, and enjoyment] will wait by her side to assist you in your service to the Lord. Through a mood of submissive surrender and devotion to Kṛṣṇa everything will come to you. The Lord's divine form and the prapanna-jīvanāmṛtam, the nectar of a life of surrendered service, will appear in your heart. We must understand that devotion to Kṛṣṇa is all-in-all (Bhagavad-bhaktitaḥ sarvam).\n\nThen Śrīla Guru Mahārāj said ity utsṛjya vidher api kaiṅkaryam: even if we cannot follow so many rules and regulations written in the scriptures for the guidance of conditioned souls, even if we cannot follow the standards of vidhi-mārg, but we are surrendered to the Lord, then our devotional mood will purchase the Lord and we will get a good result. This is one way of explaining Śrīla Guru Mahārāj's expression, and it gives us much hope. But ity utsṛjya vidher api kaiṅkaryam also means that we must leave everything for Kṛṣṇa. We must leave all of our mundane activity, no doubt, but to exclusively worship Lord Kṛṣṇa wholeheartedly we will also have to ignore the general rules and regulations given in the Vedas. We must fully surrender to Kṛṣṇa: \"I will utilise my full energy for Your service.\" We must leave the service of all gods, demigods, demigoddesses, and so on. Our service target must be Kṛṣṇa. When we can finally go beyond all types of formal religion and fully offer ourselves to Kṛṣṇa then He will give us entrance into exclusive devotional life by giving us inspiration in our hearts.\n\nyadā yasyānugṛhṇāti bhagavān ātma-bhāvitaḥ  \nsa jahāti matiṁ loke vede cha pariniṣṭhitām\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam: 4.29.46)\n\n\"When the Lord affectionately bestows His causeless mercy upon His surrendered devotees, they naturally give up all mundane activity and ignore Vedic religious practices to engage in His service.\"\n\nbhagavad-bhaktitaḥ sarvam ity utsṛjya vidher api  \nkaiṅkaryaṁ kṛṣṇa-pādaikāśrayatvaṁ śaraṇāgatiḥ\n\n(Śrī Śrī Prapanna-jīvanāmṛtam: 1.35)\n\nWhen a jīva-soul comes to the strong position of taking exclusive, unconditional shelter at the Supreme Personality of Godhead Kṛṣṇa's lotus feet with full chastity and sincerity, then he becomes a pure śaraṇāgata. This is Śrīla Guru Mahārāj's explanation. Kṛṣṇa-pādaikāśrayatvam: when a jīva-soul accepts Kṛṣṇa's lotus feet as his one and only shelter, having faith that everything will be successful and fulfilled by His grace, and abandons the shelter of Vedic religion, demigods, selfish activity, and so on, then he becomes firmly, purely surrendered. We must fully surrender to Lord Kṛṣṇa and believe it! With that we will get super-benefit in our lives.\n\n\"I am Yours\"\n\nWe can understand the seriousness of a genuine surrendered soul's mood through the story of Vibhīṣaṇ in the Rāmāyaṇa. During the battle between Lord Rāmachandra and Rāvaṇa, Vibhīṣaṇ, the brother of Rāvaṇa, came to take shelter at Lord Rāmachandra's lotus feet. He prayed to Rāmachandra, \"I am here to take shelter at Your lotus feet. Please accept me as Your own. I am Yours.\" Hanumān and other associates of Rāmachandra were very angry when they heard this and heavily chastised Vibhīṣaṇ. They thought that Vibhīṣaṇ was a spy coming to harm Lord Rāmachandra, and they told Rāmachandra, \"Don't give him shelter at Your lotus feet. He cannot be trusted.\" Then Rāmachandra took a vow in front of everyone. You will find His vow expressed in this verse from Prapanna-jīvanāmṛtam.\n\nsakṛd eva prapanno yas tavāsmīti cha yāchate  \nabhayam sarvadā tasmai dadāmy etad vrataṁ mama\n\n(Rāmāyaṇa: Yuddha-khaṇḍa, 18.33)\n\n\"If anyone comes to Me and once says, 'My dear Lord, I am Yours. I am taking shelter at Your lotus feet', I promise for all time to come that I will never leave him.\"\n\nHere Lord Rāmachandra removes all possible fear from the hearts of the surrendered souls. He gives them 100 per cent assurance that He will accept them as His own and never abandon them. He gives them the faith that He will forever take their charge. So we can have full faith that if anyone will sincerely take shelter of the Lord, the Lord will never abandon them. Any and all circumstances may come to them, but if they once sincerely surrendered to the Lord then they are permanently under the Lord's charge. This is a very heavy thing.\n\nDepending on Kṛṣṇa\n\nŚrīla Bhakti Vinod Ṭhākur has very cleverly explained the faithful confidence of a surrendered soul in one of his songs.\n\nātma-samarpaṇe gelā abhimāna  \nnāhi karabu̐ nija rakṣā-vidhāna\n\n[\"By fully offering myself unto You, my false ego has gone away. I will no longer make any arrangements to protect myself.\"\n\ntuyā dhana jāni' tuhu̐ rākhabi nātha!  \npālya go-dhana jāni kari' tuyā sātha\n\n\"O Lord! Knowing me to be Your property, You will maintain me and keep me with You as one of Your protected cows.\"\n\ncharāobi mādhava! yāmuna-tīre  \nvaṁśī bājāota ḍakabi dhīre\n\n\"O Mādhava! You will herd me along the bank of the Yamunā. You will play Your flute and call me gently.\"\n\nagha-baka mārata rakṣā vidhāna  \nkarabi sadā tuhu̐ gokula-kāna!\n\n\"By killing Aghāsura, Bakāsura, and so on, You will always make all arrangements for my protection, O Kān of Gokul!\n\nrakṣā karabi tuhu̐ niśchaya jāni  \npāna karabu̐ hāma yāmuna-pāni\n\n\"Knowing that You will certainly protect me, I will drink the poisoned water of the Yamunā.\"\n\nkālīya-dokha karabi vināśā  \nśodhabi nadī-jala bāḍāobi āśā\n\n\"You will absolve Kāliya's offences, purify the Yamunā's waters, and thus increase my faith.\"\n\npiyata dāvānala rakhabi moya  \n'gopāla' 'govinda' nāma tava hoya\n\n\"By swallowing the forest fire, You will protect me and thus become known as 'Gopāl' and 'Govinda'.\"\n\nsurapati durmati-nāśa vichāri'  \nrākhabi varṣaṇe giri-vara-dhāri!\n\n\"Deciding to level the pride of Devarāj Indra, You will protect me from his rains, O Lifter of Girirāj Govardhan!\"\n\nchaturānana karaba yava chori  \nrakṣā karabi moye gokula-hari!\n\n\"When Brahmā will abduct me, You will rescue me, O Lord of Gokul!\"\n\nbhakati-vinoda tuyā gokula-dhana  \nrākhabi keśava! karata yatana\n\n\"Bhakti Vinod is one of Your cows in Gokul. O Keśava! Surely you will carefully protect him.\"]\n\nThis is the mood of ātma-samarpaṇ, fully surrendering oneself to the Lord. This song is found in Śaraṇāgati; you must have read it. When I joined the Mission of Śrīla Guru Mahārāj, he gave me a copy of Śaraṇāgati and tick-marked thirty-two songs inside. He said, \"You must memorise these songs within seven days.\" I had some capacity as a kīrtan singer, and Śrīla Guru Mahārāj wanted to begin training me according to my qualifications. Somehow I memorised those songs on Śrīla Guru Mahārāj's order. I still have the book Śrīla Guru Mahārāj gave me in my room.\n\nIt is also my request to the devotees that they try to memorise the songs of Śaraṇāgati if it is possible for them. There are so many very sweet, sweet songs inside Śaraṇāgati which are very nice to chant daily. Śaraṇāgati is a small book but all wealth is present within it in a glorious way. Through the songs of Śrīla Bhakti Vinod Ṭhākur we get the gist of all the scriptures. If all the scriptures disappeared from this mundane world but Śrīla Bhakti Vinod Ṭhākur's songs remained, we would still have everything. We can get everything through his songs.\n\nThis song ātma-samarpaṇe gelā abhimāna is not in pure Bengali. It has some Vraja-bhūli in it to convey the mood of Kṛṣṇa's surrendered devotees in Vṛndāvan Dhām. Śrīla Bhakti Vinod Ṭhākur expresses that if we are fully surrendered to the lotus feet of Śrī Kṛṣṇa then we have nothing to fear from anywhere. And he said even more than this.\n\nrakṣā karabi tuhu̐ niśchaya jāni  \npāna karabu̐ hāma yāmuna-pāni\n\n(Śaraṇāgati: 23.5)\n\n\"Kṛṣṇa, I will even fearlessly drink the poisonous water of the Yamunā because I am sure that You will save my life.\"\n\nKṛṣṇa: our sole proprietor\n\nIt is Kṛṣṇa Himself who gives and takes our life. No one else can do so. We do not need to be so fearful of our environment and association. How much can we actually protect ourselves? We have seen that Indira Gandhi was shot by her own bodyguard. Mahatma Gandhi was assassinated although he was a very pious man and dear to nearly everyone. The only saviour of anyone's life is Kṛṣṇa. If Kṛṣṇa wants us to be saved, we will be saved, and if Kṛṣṇa wants us to die, then we will die. There is a saying in Bengali, \"Rākhe Kṛṣṇa māre ke, māre Kṛṣṇa rākhe ke: when Kṛṣṇa protects you no one can kill you, but when Kṛṣṇa wants to kill you no one can protect you.\" The mood of the surrendered soul is,\n\nmārabi rākhabi yo ichchhā tohārā  \nnitya-dāsa prati tuyā adhikārā\n\n(Śaraṇāgati: 11.3)\n\n\"Kṛṣṇa, You may kill me or protect me as You wish. You are my Master.\"\n\nThis kind of submission and dedication is very valuable. Our real safety is found only in surrender and devotion. What Śrīla Bhakti Vinod Ṭhākur has explained is very serious. It is not easy to quickly catch this conception of full dedication to the Lord and full dependence upon His mercy. So we consider some percentage in our devotion. Someone may be 10 per cent devoted, 20 per cent devoted, 50 per cent devoted, or 100 per cent devoted.\n\nThe power of ego\n\nThe only obstacle to surrender and dedication is ego. If someone has no mundane ego they can easily connect with the transcendental plane and leave behind their mundane attachments. Everything mundane—our body, our possessions, and so on—is part of Māyā's illusory environment. It is temporary and does not belong to us. When our ego is bewildered by the illusory environment, then our proper knowledge and consciousness of Kṛṣṇa's eternal service is covered by mundane attachment, and that egotistic attachment creates a great obstruction between us and the Lord.\n\nahaṅkāra-nivṛttānāṁ keśavo nahi dūragaḥ  \nahaṅkāra-yutānāṁ hi madhye parvata-rāśayaḥ\n\n(Brahma-vaivarta-purāṇa: 3.9.9)\n\nThe scriptures explain that mundane ego is like a great mountain that blocks our contact with Kṛṣṇa and His transcendental abode. But when our ego is disengaged from the mundane then it is very easy for us to contact the transcendental abode and feel the Lord's guardianship. Tad dūre tad v antike (Īu: 5), \"The Lord is very far from us if we are not surrendered and dedicated, but the Lord is very near to us if we are surrendered and dedicated.\"\n\nKṛṣṇa is always with us. He lives in our heart in the form of Paramātmā. From within our heart He observes everything we do and all the reactions we create for ourselves. Whenever we consciously surrender to Him and act according to our nature as His eternal servants, He removes all of our karmic reactions, fills our hearts with happiness, joy, and beauty, and gives us entrance into the ecstatic world of Goloka Vṛndāvan Dhām.\nChapter Thirteen   \nThe Transcendental Service World\n\nWe must engage all of our senses, our mind, and our full energy in Kṛṣṇa's service. But before we can engage in any devotional activity we must first surrender to the Lord; we must first offer ourselves over to the Lord internally. That is called ātma-nivedan, self-surrender. This is the first step in śaraṇāgati as well as our first necessity in devotional life.\n\nŚrīla Viśvanāth Chakravartī Ṭhākur wrote in one of his commentaries on Śrīmad Bhāgavatam: \"Ādau arpitā paśchād kriyeta: first surrender, then serve; first offer, then act.\" When we surrender to Kṛṣṇa and think that our whole account is being arranged by Kṛṣṇa then we can serve Him in all circumstances, and whatever we do will be Kṛṣṇa's service. That is the teaching of Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu and Prabhupād Śrīla Saraswatī Ṭhākur. Our Guru Mahārāj, Śrīla Bhakti Rakṣak Śrīdhar Dev-Goswāmī Mahārāj, gave us this conception.\n\nŚrīla Guru Mahārāj taught us that everything is made of chetanā, consciousness, so everything has a transcendental form.\n\noṁ ajñāna-timirāndhasya jñānāñjana-śalākayā  \nchakṣur unmilitaṁ yena tasmai śrī-gurave namaḥ\n\n\"Gurudev opens our transcendental eyes and gives us transcendental knowledge—transcendental vision—and through that we can see the transcendental form of the environment.\"\n\nIt is necessary to leave the illusory environment and live in the transcendental environment. When we are connected with transcendental knowledge by the grace of Gurudev then gradually the transcendental plane reveals itself to us and we feel everything to be transcendental. Everything around us in this mundane world is material, but everything material is also an expression of the spiritual plane—movement is a property of consciousness. Both matter and spirit are always in front of us, and we need to avoid material feeling and cultivate spiritual feeling. That is called paramahaṁsa-dharma.\n\nIf a pot has a mixture of milk and water inside it, a haṁsa (swan) can drink all the milk within the mixture and leave the water in the pot. Our practising life is like this. In our environment everything is good, and everything is bad; everything is spiritual, and everything is material. We must be conscious about seeing everything in a spiritual way and avoiding materialistic thinking. General people, conditioned by the illusory environment, ignore the presence of the jīva-soul within everything and do not know that the jīva-soul naturally has a service spirit.\n\nThe life of liberated souls\n\nIn the material world everything is a passing show. There is no eternity or purity within the material environment. The happiness conditioned souls feel in the material environment is not real happiness. Conditioned souls do not actually know what happiness is. What they consider to be happiness is actually only temporary relief from their material difficulties. Between the births and deaths of the conditioned souls so many varieties of suffering come to them. Sometimes conditioned souls become frustrated and want to become liberated from the material atmosphere. Thus they desire to merge into Brahma the way a raindrop merges into the ocean.\n\nmuktir hitvānyathā rūpaṁ sva-rūpeṇa vyavasthitiḥ\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam: 2.10.6)\n\nBut real liberation means leaving material life and living a spiritual service life. What does a liberated soul actually do? He engages his every action in the service of the Lord and feels full satisfaction through the Lord's service. Liberation means detachment from material thinking, and attachment to the transcendental world through dedicated service to the Lord in a surrendered mood. A liberated soul is directly attracted to Kṛṣṇa. He understands that his eternal necessity for happiness, love, charm, beauty, and ecstasy will be fulfilled by Kṛṣṇa's service.\n\nAll the scriptures—Śrīmad Bhāgavatam, Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā, the Purāṇas, the Vedas, and so on—have taught us that we can transform the mundane environment into the transcendental environment through the spirit of service and devotion. Kṛṣṇa Himself said,\n\nsarva-dharmān parityajya mām ekaṁ śaraṇaṁ vraja\n\n(Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā: 18.66)\n\n\"Only I can give you everything. Surrender to Me and serve Me according to My directions, and you will be fully satisfied by your service. Tat kuruṣva Mad-arpaṇam: before you do anything, first offer it to Me.\"\n\nThe Lord's service connects everything with the transcendental plane and gives us the realisation that, \"Everything is the property of Lord Kṛṣṇa. Everything here, there, and everywhere exists for His satisfaction. Even I myself belong to Him and exist to serve Him. Nothing exists for me.\" When we live within that consciousness, then we live within the transcendental service world; we live as a liberated soul in Kṛṣṇa's transcendental abode.\n\nPartial bodily consciousness\n\nŚrīla Guru Mahārāj always taught us to not take anything for ourselves. He taught us to first offer anything that came to us to Guru, Vaiṣṇava, and the Lord and in that way be free from all illusory matter. This is the life of a devotee. A devotee lives in the nirguṇa sevāmaya-bhumikā, the transcendental service world, where everything is for the satisfaction of the Lord and His devotees.\n\nThere are many examples of how everything within the material environment can be spiritually transformed when it is utilised for the Lord's service. The primary example is mahāprasādam, the Lord's divine remnants. If we first offer everything we need for our life to the Lord then all of our necessities become transcendental. If everything we take in our lives is the remnants of the Lord and His devotees then everything will be beneficial for us materially and spiritually. This type of lifestyle is very sweet and very suitable for our bodily maintenance. When we take the Lord's remnants we feel connected to the Lord and we feel a satisfaction in our hearts that brings us the mood of eternity and eternal service to the Lord. In our practising life we are somewhat bodily conscious, but not fully bodily conscious. We know that everyone must eat to maintain their body. We know so many people are suffering from diseases, and because of that they have restrictions on their diets, like not taking sweets or not taking fried foods. But if we offer everything we are going to eat to the Lord before we eat it then that foodstuff becomes transcendental.\n\nPeople must maintain their bodies according to the laws of nature, but as possible by them they will proceed in a spiritual way by considering and feeling that anything they put on their tongue must be mahāprasādam, the Lord's remnants. If they have that mood and consciousness then everything in their life will be spiritually beneficial for them.\n\nConquering the world\n\nTo honour prasādam, the proper sense, feeling, and consciousness are necessary. The prasādam of Lord Jagannāth in Purī Dhām is famous all over the world. Every day they cook so much for Lord Jagannāth and offer everything to Him in giant pots. If we look at that prasādam it looks just like rice, dal, and vegetables. It appears just like ordinary matter. But through faith and the spirit of devotion we know that when it is offered to Lord Jagannāth it becomes transcendental.\n\nOnce Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu brought some Jagannāth-prasād to Sārvabhauma Bhaṭṭāchārya to test him, to see if he had more faith in the formal religion of the Vedas than transcendental Kṛṣṇa consciousness and Kṛṣṇa-prasād.\n\nāji muñi anāyāse jininu tribhuvana  \nāji muñi karinu vaikuṇṭha ārohaṇa  \nāji mora pūrṇa haila sarva abhilāṣa  \nsārvabhaumera haila mahāprasāde viśvāsa\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Madhya-līlā, 6.230–231)\n\nWhen Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu brought him the mahāprasādam and Sārvabhauma Bhaṭṭāchārya accepted it without any mundane considerations, Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu said, \"Today I have conquered the three worlds! Today I have ascended to Vaikuṇṭha! Today all of My desires have been fulfilled! Sārvabhauma has developed faith in mahāprasādam!\"\n\nWhen we take prasādam we are not taking rice, vegetables, water, or anything mundane. We may see prasādam and see that it appears like an ordinary material thing, but within that mahāprasādam is the transcendental mercy of Lord Kṛṣṇa. If we think we are simply eating while we take prasādam, then we are not properly honouring the prasādam and we are not spiritually qualified. If we think that we are serving the Lord's divine remnants and that only externally it looks like we are eating, then we actually will be honouring prasādam. When we taste prasādam in this way with full faith, we can very easily control our senses and engage in the service of Guru, Vaiṣṇava, and Bhagavān.\n\nReal transcendence\n\nI once noticed the way a girl in St Petersburg was distributing prasādam. As she put rice, or dal, or sabji on everyone's plates she recited this verse,\n\nbrahmārpaṇaṁ brahma havir brahmāgnau brahmaṇā hutam  \nbrahmaiva tena gantavyaṁ brahma-karma-samādhinā\n\n(Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā: 4.24)\n\n\"The spoon is Brahma, the offering is Brahma, the fire is Brahma, and the person making the offering is Brahma. One whose consciousness is always absorbed in Brahma surely attains Brahma.\"\n\nI think she may have stayed in India for many years because this verse is used as part of the style of serving prasādam in other sampradāyas like the Śaṅkar sampradāya. Through realisation we will see that prasādam substantially exists in the very, very finest way on a higher platform of transcendental knowledge than is expressed in that verse. There are many other verses to explain this, but in Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā Kṛṣṇa simply says,\n\nyajña-śiṣṭāśinaḥ santo muchyante sarva-kilbiṣaiḥ  \nbhuñjate te tv aghaṁ pāpā ye pachanty ātma-kāraṇāt\n\n(Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā: 3.13)\n\n\"One who cooks for the Lord and offers one's cooking to the Lord is freed from all sin by honouring the remnants of that offering as the Lord's transcendental mercy (prasādam). One who cooks for oneself and does not honour anything as the Lord's prasādam eats only sin.\"\n\nThrough this verse we can understand the fundamental position of the Lord's prasādam, how it becomes transcendental through a connection with the Lord in the spirit of devotion. This is a higher conception and platform of spiritual life than the idea that everything is transcendental simply because it comes from Brahma or exists within Brahma.\n\nControlling the senses by Kṛṣṇa's mercy\n\nBecause it is not so easy to understand the transcendental position of the Lord's remnants and honour them properly we recite a verse spoken by Nārad Ṛṣi whenever we honour prasādam:\n\nmahāprasāde govinde nāma-brahmaṇi vaiṣṇave  \nsvalpa-puṇya-vatāṁ rājan viśvāso naiva jāyate\n\n(Mahābhārata)\n\n\"Those who do not have sufficient sukṛti [spiritual fortune] cannot faithfully honour mahāprasādam, Lord Govinda, the Holy Name, or the Vaiṣṇavas.\"\n\nAt the time when I joined the Mission of Śrīla Guru Mahārāj, this Śrī Chaitanya Sāraswat Maṭh, everyone would chant this verse as well as a poem of Śrīla Bhakti Vinod Ṭhākur before they took prasādam. Śrīla Bhakti Vinod Ṭhākur composed a very simple poem that explains the divine position of prasādam very perfectly. It is very short, but it is an extremely valuable composition for us. It is a Bengali poem, but everyone in the Maṭh would chant it before they took prasādam as though it was a Vedic mantram. Everyone would chant this poem, offer their daṇḍavat praṇāms to the mahāprasādam, and then eat with the remembrance that they were not actually eating but serving the Lord by honouring His remnants.\n\nśarīra avidyā jāla,  jaḍendriya tāhe kāla,  \njīve phele viṣaya-sāgare  \ntā'ra madhye jihvā ati, lobha-maya sudurmati,  \ntā'ke jetā kaṭhina saṁsāre  \nkṛṣṇa baḍa dayā-maya, karibāre jihvā jaya,  \nsva-prasāda-anna dila bhāi  \nsei annāmṛta pāo,  rādhā-kṛṣṇa guṇa gāo,  \npreme ḍāka chaitanya-nitāi\n\n(Gītāvalī: Prasād-sevāya, 1.1–2)\n\nŚrīla Bhakti Vinod Ṭhākur explains in his poem that everything you eat will be the cause of future bondage in this material world unless you use the energy and nourishment you receive from your food to serve liberated souls and the Lord. Furthermore, if you honour everything you eat as mahāprasādam—the remnants of the Lord, Gurudev, and Vaiṣṇavas—then eating it will not cause any further bondage in this world. Rather, it will increase your devotional mood and the devotional atmosphere of your life.\n\nŚrīla Bhakti Vinod Ṭhākur also mentions in his poem that the tongue is the most difficult sense to control. In Śrīmad Bhāgavatam (11.8.21) Śrī Kṛṣṇa says,\n\ntāvaj jitendriyo na syād vijitānyendriyaḥ pumān  \nna jayed rasanaṁ yāvaj jitaṁ sarvaṁ jite rase\n\n\"Someone may be able to control their senses temporarily, but unless one can control one's tongue one has not truly conquered one's senses.\"\n\nIn this verse from Śrīmad Bhāgavatam Kṛṣṇa certifies that someone who can control their tongue's activities, that is, eating and speaking, has truly controlled his senses. Śrīla Bhakti Vinod Ṭhākur wrote in his poem that Kṛṣṇa is supremely merciful because He gives us the opportunity to control our tongues and transcend the illusory environment through the joyful activity of honouring the Lord's divine remnants and chanting the Lord's Holy Names.\n\nDancing with joy\n\nIn Śrīmad Bhāgavatam Uddhava also describes the glorious position of the Lord's prasādam and how the conditioned souls are supremely benefitted by it:\n\ntvayopabhukta-srag-gandha-vāso 'laṅkāra-charchitāḥ  \nuchchhiṣṭa-bhojino dāsās tava māyāṁ jayema hi\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam: 11.6.46)\n\n\"Simply by maintaining ourselves with the garlands, fragrances, clothing, ornaments, and foods that have been offered to You [Kṛṣṇa], we, Your eternal servants, easily cross over Your illusory environment [māyā].\"\n\nThis is Uddhava's prescription for the conditioned souls to get relief from the illusory environment. Our vision needs to be that anything we use in our life must be the Lord's remnants. If we honour everything in that way and always remember the glories of the Lord's remnants then we will be enriched with a devotional mood and proceed happily in our spiritual life. Enjoyment in our spiritual life will always come to us through the Lord's remnants. Śrīla Bhakti Vinod Ṭhākur also said,\n\nkṛṣṇera prasāda-anna, tri-jagat kare dhanya,  \ntripurāri nāche yāhā pāi'\n\n(Gītāvalī: Prasād-sevāya, 3.3)\n\n\"The three worlds are made glorious by Kṛṣṇa-prasād. Even Lord Śiva dances with great joy when he receives Kṛṣṇa-prasād.\"\n\nWhat should be our mood when we receive prasādam? It is the great joy of our life.\n\nAttachment and detachment\n\nŚrīla Bhakti Siddhānta Saraswatī Ṭhākur collected many evidential verses from Śrī Bhakti-rasāmṛta-sindhu, Śrī Hari-bhakti-vilāsa, and other scriptures to establish the transcendental nature of the Lord's remnants. He also established this transcendental practising process, that is, paramahaṁsa-dharma, of seeing and relating with everything in a spiritual way through devotion to the Lord. This practising process is very sweet and also a very easy standard of life for practitioners. Śrīla Saraswatī Ṭhākur always published two verses from Śrī Bhakti-rasāmṛta-sindhu in his magazine the Gauḍīya to give everyone proper consciousness about this transcendental practising process:\n\nanāsaktasya viṣayān yathārham upayuñjataḥ  \nnirbandhaḥ kṛṣṇa-sambandhe yuktaṁ vairāgyam uchyate  \nprāpañchikatayā buddhyā hari-sambandhi-vastunaḥ  \nmumukṣubhiḥ parityāgo vairāgyaṁ phalgu kathyate\n\n(Śrī Bhakti-rasāmṛta-sindhu: Pūrva-vibhāga, 2.255–256)\n\nIn these verses Śrīla Rūpa Goswāmī Prabhu gives a point of very strong advice: anāsaktasya viṣayān, you must be detached from everything mundane. Material things come naturally in life. We cannot live without some level of material activity. But we must be very conscious about our material connections and not be involved with them. We must not be attached to them. This is Śrīla Rūpa Goswāmī Prabhu's advice, \"Anāsaktasya viṣayān: we must be detached from material things, and yathārham upayuñjataḥ nirbandhaḥ Kṛṣṇa-sambandhe: in that detached mood we must see everything in relationship to Kṛṣṇa and use everything for His service.\" Śrīla Rūpa Goswāmī Prabhu's advice means that we must live with everything, but not be attached to it. We must live within the material environment, but while there we must connect everything with Kṛṣṇa.\n\nThe flow of desire\n\nThere can be no compromise in this matter; without a detached nature we will not be qualified to properly honour the Lord's divine remnants and act always for His satisfaction. Sometimes practitioners feel very fearful and hopeless when they confront their material desires and struggle to leave their mundane attachments. But they should not be hopeless or fearful because, as the Lord Himself explains, He helps them with the challenges they face in their devotional life.\n\njāta-śraddho mat-kathāsu nirviṇṇaḥ sarva-karmasu  \nveda duḥkhātmakān kāmān parityāge 'py anīśvaraḥ  \ntato bhajeta māṁ prītaḥ śraddhālur dṛḍha-niśchayaḥ  \njuṣamāṇaś cha tān kāmān duḥkhodarkāṁś cha garhayan  \nproktena bhakti-yogena bhajato māsakṛn muneḥ  \nkāmā hṛdayyā naśyanti sarve mayi hṛdi sthite\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam: 11.20.27–29)\n\n\"If a devotee is conscious and firm in his faith, if he has no real interest in mundane activity though he may struggle to be detached from it, and if he knows that his material desires are the source of his suffering, then he will get strength from the Lord's mercy. The Lord will appear in his heart and remove all inauspiciousness from his heart.\"\n\nA devotee may feel that he lives within a family and has so many attachments he cannot leave, such as his attachment to his father, mother, brothers, sisters, uncles, and so on. He may ask, \"How can I do Hari-bhajan?\" The main point mentioned in these verses, which is necessary to understand, is desire—the desire to enjoy. Kāmā hṛdayyā naśyanti, the desire to enjoy, is present everywhere. It is within both the material and spiritual planes. Why does creation itself happen at all? Because of desire. Desire is the cause of all creations. But a devotee's life and desires are completely different from a life of ordinary mundane desires. How are they different? Duḥkhodarkāṁś cha garhayan, the devotee desires to satisfy the Lord and repents that he is entangled by mundane desires.\n\nThe internal battle\n\nWhenever our internal enemies, our material desires and attachments, show their face to us we hopelessly surrender to them. We are not liberated souls. We are conditioned souls, and we are always attacked by the six enemies living within us: kāma, krodha, lobha, mada, moha, and mātsarya [lust, anger, greed, madness, illusion, and envy].\n\nkāma eṣa krodha eṣa rajo-guṇa-samudbhavaḥ\n\n(Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā: 3.37)\n\nIn Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā Kṛṣṇa explains that these six enemies are produced by raja-guṇa: the mode of passion. We know that none of the three modes of material nature, which control everything within material existence, is good for us. Sattva-guṇa [goodness], raja-guṇa [passion], and tama-guṇa [ignorance] are all ropes that bind us within material existence and material consciousness. As sādhakas, practitioners, we must be conscious about this in our practice.\n\nWhen our enemies show themselves to us, our position as conditioned souls may become hopeless, and we may surrender to them. Unfortunately we may be their victim for some time. For some time we may be a servant of kāma, a servant of krodha, a servant of lobha, mada, moha, mātsarya, and so on. But after that we must set ourselves back within our proper position of engagement in the Lord's service. This is not easy. We will not get the qualification necessary to do that by attending school or college. Only through the association of pure devotees can we get that type of qualification. To be a pure devotee, as well as find a pure devotee, is not so easy. Difficulty is always around us, but we must tolerate that and try to correct ourselves. That is our situation in our practising life: first tolerating and then trying to correct.\n\nSometimes devotees fall from their principles. But again they must come back to them, wake up, and continue running. That is the life of a devotee, and that life is very good and hopeful for devotees. Without this everyone will become hopeless.\n\nIf we realise the nature of our conditioned position we will see that our weaknesses, that is, our material desires, are stronger than our spiritual desire. We sometimes surrender to our weaknesses. But only if we remain submissive to them forever will we be the loser. It is always necessary to take back our spiritual strength. These verses from Śrīmad Bhāgavatam very nicely explain the procedure for this: faith, humility, tolerance, repentance, and service.\n\nMercy + service = sense control\n\nEarlier in our life it was not within my realisation but now I am realising this very happy news for us: parityāge 'py anīśvaraḥ: we cannot leave our internal enemies forever. From time to time our internal enemies will disturb us. Sometimes we will be submerged in them. I can understand now that such immersion is for our purification, and that we will not remain immersed in them forever. This is our position, and all we can do is try to not allow ourselves to always be a servant of our mundane desires while we pray to the Lord for His mercy and try to engage in His service.\n\nYogīs try to control their senses and desires directly by restraining themselves through the process of yama, niyama, āsan, prāṇāyām, pratyāhāra, dhāraṇā, dhyān, and samādhi. But Śrīmad Bhāgavatam says,\n\nyamādibhir yoga-pathaiḥ kāma-lobha-hato muhuḥ  \nmukunda-sevayā yadvat tathātmāddhā na śāmyati\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam: 1.6.35)\n\n\"It may be possible to temporarily control the senses and the effects of kāma, lobha, and so on with the power of self-control and the practice of yoga (yama, niyama, and so on), but only the Lord's service can permanently control the senses and the flow of our desires.\"\n\nThe devotional path is different than the yoga path. In the devotional path desire, the senses, and their functions are controlled by engaging them in the Lord's service. In devotional life the senses are automatically controlled through service. It is not necessary to try to control them ourselves directly in a pushing way. Rather, we must try to use the senses and our desires for the Lord's service and satisfaction.\n\nOffering everything to the Lord\n\nŚrīla Narottam Ṭhākur has explained how we can properly practise this:\n\n'kāma' kṛṣṇa-karmārpaṇe, 'krodha' bhakta-dveṣi jane,  \n'lobha' sādhu-saṅge hari-kathā  \n'moha' iṣṭa-lābha vine, 'mada' kṛṣṇa-guṇa-gāne,  \nniyukta kariba yathā tathā\n\n(Prema-bhakti-chandrikā: 2.10)\n\n'Kāma' Kṛṣṇa-karmārpaṇe: if you have many desires in your mind, then you can offer the things you desire to Kṛṣṇa before you take them. 'Krodha' bhakta-dveṣi jane: if you feel angry, then you can use your anger to check persons who are inauspicious and envious of the devotees. 'Lobha' sādhu-saṅge Hari-kathā: you can engage your greed in hearing the glories and Pastimes of the Lord from the sādhus. 'Mada' Kṛṣṇa-guṇa-gāne: you can engage your desire for intoxication in madly glorifying the Lord and His devotees. 'Moha' iṣṭa-lābha vine: if you have not connected with your worshippable Master, then you can try to realise why that is and can express your hankering in a bewildered way like Raghunāth Dās Goswāmī.\n\nŚrīla Narottam Ṭhākur advises us how to engage our internal enemies in Kṛṣṇa's service. We all have desires that we are suffering from, but if we engage them in the service of Guru, Vaiṣṇava, and Bhagavān with our full energy, then they will be controlled automatically. Everything we struggle with in our life can be good if we use it properly for Kṛṣṇa's service. This is our hope. When our enemies—lust, anger, greed, and so on—come to us, we can invite them in: \"Come here and pay daṇḍavat praṇām to the Deity! You are already coming, so come, and offer yourself to the Deity.\" The practising procedure of bhakti-yoga is very sweet, and finally,\n\nbhidyate hṛdaya-granthiś chhidyante sarva-saṁśayāḥ  \nkṣīyante chāsya karmāṇi mayi dṛṣṭe 'khilātmani\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam: 11.20.30)\n\n\"All of the material desires in our hearts will be removed, all of our doubts will be finished, and we will engage ourselves exclusively in the Lord's service, seeing Him everywhere.\"\n\nSuch Bhāgavat-darśan, divine vision of the Lord, is both very easy and very rare to attain. Tad dūre tad v antike (Īu: 5): \"The Lord is very far from us if we are not surrendered or dedicated, but the Lord is very near to us if we are surrendered and dedicated.\"\n\nThe actual proprietor of everything\n\nŚrīla Saraswatī Ṭhākur understood everything about the position of the conditioned souls. He presented these teachings of Śrīmad Bhāgavatam and Śrīla Rūpa Goswāmī Prabhu in a very condensed form to make the essential nature of transcendental service very clear to us. He wrote,\n\nśrī hari-sevāya  yāhā anukūla,  \nviṣaya baliyā tyāge haya bhula  \n'āsakti-rahita',  'sambandha-sahita',  \nviṣaya-samūha sakali 'mādhava'\n\n\"If any apparently material thing or desire can be connected with the Lord through devotion, or is favourable to His service, then it is a mistaken illusion to think it is mundane or useless, and renounce it. We must live without attachment to anything and connect everything to the Lord, feeling that the Lord is the actual proprietor of everything and we are His servitors.\"\n\nThis is the consciousness needed to live in the transcendental service world. A genuine devotee has no existence where Kṛṣṇa is not present. A devotee will always be connected with transcendental matters through the Lord's service and will never be involved in anything material. A devotee may live in the mundane environment, but he will take each step forward in his life thinking, \"Just now I may not have full realisation of the transcendental world, but I am a natural member of that world; my real property exists there. I can proceed from a very low position within the illusory environment to a very high position in the transcendental environment by living in remembrance of that plane and my service there.\" Through Kṛṣṇa consciousness we can change material things into spiritual matters and feel the Lord's presence everywhere within the material world. With Kṛṣṇa consciousness and the Lord's divine remnants (prasādam) everyone can cross over the illusory environment.\n\nThe purity of our mood\n\nŚrīla Rūpa Goswāmī Prabhu's advice to be detached from the mundane is very important for us. We must always try to honour the transcendental form of everything—of the Deity, the devotees, the Lord's prasādam, and so on—in a detached mood. We may lead any lifestyle, we may have a family life, a student life, a master's life—any sort of life—but we must not be too attached to that. Even if we are a family man, we will have no difficulty with our family maintenance if we think that our family is a spiritual family. If we think in that way no difficulty will come to us. Even if we lose everything materially, still there is no real loss for us because we can always engage ourselves in Kṛṣṇa's service, no matter what our material condition is, through proper consciousness. We will think that our children are spiritual children and our flowers are spiritual flowers. Everything that we see we will consider to be Kṛṣṇa's mercy coming to us. Śrīla Guru Mahārāj taught us in this way.\n\nWe will change our vision and we will serve. Then anything we do will be Kṛṣṇa's service, so long as we do not forget that it is for His satisfaction and not our selfish enjoyment. If we proceed in that way then all benefit, and no loss, will come to us. Śrīla Bhakti Vinod Ṭhākur showed us this mood. He prayed to the Lord,\n\ntomāra saṁsāre,  kariba sevana,  \nnāhiba phalera bhāgī  \ntava sukha yāhe,  kariba yatana,  \nha'ye pade anurāgī\n\n(Śaraṇāgati: 16.3)\n\n\"I will live in Your house as a servitor of Your family, and everything I do will be solely for Your satisfaction.\"\n\nThis is the mood of transcendental service. We must be very careful about maintaining the purity of that mood in our practising life, otherwise we will cheat ourselves.\n\nIt is not good to have too much affection for children. When children come into a family, they must be honoured, and the parents must consider that it is the Lord's will and their good fortune that the children have come. But parents should not maintain their family with mundane attachment; they should not be overly involved in their family life. When we do something emotionally it may sometimes bring us a good result, but mostly it brings us bad results. We have to avoid emotional activity and continue our lives with fully devotional activities.\n\nWe must avoid cheating ourselves by carefully keeping our mood pure: \"I shall use whatever circumstances I find myself in for the service of Kṛṣṇa.\" If we can properly maintain this mood, then we can maintain our lives in any ashram—brahmachārī, gṛhastha, vānaprastha, or sannyās. If we have a sincere mood of service and dedication, then there is no question about how we maintain our lives. There are many nice examples of this.\n\nThe sweet life of a poor brahmachārī\n\nātma-nivedana,  tuyā pade kari',  \nhainu parama sukhī  \nduḥkha dūre gela,  chintā nā rahila,  \nchaudike ānanda dekhi\n\n(Śaraṇāgati: 16.1)\n\n\"By surrendering myself at Your lotus feet, I have become supremely joyful. All sadness has gone away and I have no anxiety. I see joy in all directions.\"\n\nThis song from Śaraṇāgati reminds me of my early life as a brahmachārī when I took shelter at Śrīla Guru Mahārāj's lotus feet. How much was I dedicated! I forgot all of my material happiness and sadness—everything. So many things came to me, but I was dedicated to the Lord's lotus feet and very happy. I didn't think about my material lifestyle at all. I simply lived happily and easily according to Śrīla Guru Mahārāj's orders. I did not have a bed. I slept on a straw mat with a straw pillow. Sometimes red ants would bite me. I lived a very simple life and I didn't think about it much. In the Maṭh we would not buy any vegetables. We would cultivate our own fruits and vegetables in our garden and happily offer the Lord what we grew in our Maṭh. We would not eat anything we did not grow except when we would sometimes buy some potatoes for Śrīla Guru Mahārāj from the market.\n\nWe had no heavy problems then. Our only disturbances would come from goats and cows coming inside our garden. Gradually our Maṭh has become prestigious, and more and more facilities have come to us. But my early time in the Maṭh was very tasteful. Now I am not getting that sweet taste of poor brahmachārī life. Now more disturbances have begun to come to our Maṭh from the outside, but those are also sweet problems because sacrifice is our lifestyle. One of Śrīla Bhakti Vinod Ṭhākur's songs in Śaraṇāgati explains everything for us very simply and sweetly:\n\ntomāra sevāya,  duḥkha haya yata,  \nseo ta' parama sukha  \nsevā-sukha-duḥkha,  parama sampada,  \nnāśaye avidyā-duḥkha\n\n(Śaraṇāgati: 16.4)\n\n\"The suffering I feel in my life of service to You is actually my greatest joy. Both the happiness and sadness I feel in Your service are my great fortune because they both remove the pollution of illusion from my heart.\"\n\npūrva itihāsa,  bhulinu sakala,  \nsevā-sukha pe'ye mane  \nāmi ta' tomāra, tumi ta' āmāra,  \nki kāja apara dhane\n\n(Śaraṇāgati: 16.5)\n\n\"I have forgotten everything in the past now that I feel the great joy of Your service in my heart. I am Yours, and You are mine. You are my Master, and I am Your servant. Nothing comes between us.\"\n\nKṛṣṇa is my life and soul\n\nThere is also a nice story about one of our devotees, a very rich householder devotee, who lost all his wealth, crores of rupees, because of his detached and surrendered mood of devotion to Kṛṣṇa. During the proceedings of a court case he was involved in he would go every day to worship the Deity of Lord Kṛṣṇa. Some government men and armed police had to accompany him, and because of this he had to spend thousands of rupees every day to maintain them. He lost maybe two to five thousand rupees every day due to the expenses of the guards. Still he would go daily to worship the Deity.\n\nOne day it was raining very heavily, and after travelling with him to the temple in the rain one of the senior policemen asked him, \"O Mr Sānnyāl, every day you come here to worship the Deity of Lord Kṛṣṇa, but what does Kṛṣṇa give you? You have lost everything. You have lost nearly all of the nice things in your home, like your very nice carpet worth lakhs of rupees. You have lost your house and nearly all of your wealth. You have lost everything, so why do you worship Kṛṣṇa? What has Kṛṣṇa given you?\"\n\nThen that man, Mr Sānnyāl, gave a very nice answer. I have never forgotten it. He said, \"I am worshipping Kṛṣṇa, but I do not ask Kṛṣṇa to give me anything. Whatever Kṛṣṇa decides to give me or not give me is His matter. I like Kṛṣṇa. I have love for Kṛṣṇa. Kṛṣṇa is my heart and soul. Because of that I come here every day to serve Kṛṣṇa. It is Kṛṣṇa's matter whether He will give me something or not. I do not ask Kṛṣṇa for anything.\" The policeman was stunned to hear Mr Sānnyāl's answer.\n\nI was also very impressed to hear this from him because this is the style of devotion in the line of Śrīla Rūpa Goswāmī Prabhu. The mood and mentality of the devotee is to relate everything with the Lord and His service: \"I smile because Kṛṣṇa likes my smiling face. I dress myself in nice garments because Kṛṣṇa likes to see them. I sleep so I can engage in Kṛṣṇa's service; I sleep because Kṛṣṇa likes my sleep. I cook because Kṛṣṇa likes to taste my cooking. Whatever I do, I do for Kṛṣṇa, not for any other purpose. I like things because Kṛṣṇa likes them, and if Kṛṣṇa does not like something, it is not necessary for me to do it. I do not do anything which is not for the satisfaction of Kṛṣṇa. Without Kṛṣṇa, I have no existence.\"\n\nTranscending the mundane\n\nSometimes great hope comes to us in our lives, and sometimes hopeless situations come to us, but we do not become frustrated in any way, and we do not leave Kṛṣṇa consciousness. We only try to engage ourselves in Kṛṣṇa's service.\n\nWe cannot continue our lives without a roof, some shade, some pure water, some fruits and vegetables, and so on. Prabhupād Śrīla Saraswatī Ṭhākur has taught us how to accept all of these necessities of life with a devotional spirit by first offering them to Lord Kṛṣṇa and then living on His remnants. Whenever we take anything we must first remember that it is the Lord's mercy coming to us. Then we can maintain our lives exclusively on His remnants. This is the advice and style of Śrīla Rūpa Goswāmī, Śrīla Saraswatī Ṭhākur, Śrīla Swāmī Mahārāj, and my Guru Mahārāj. We are all their followers, and through their teachings and this practice we can leave our mundane attachments behind and dedicate ourselves twenty-four hours a day to the Lord and His devotees in the transcendental service world.\nChapter Fourteen   \nThe Transcendental Vibration   \nForm of the Lord\n\nIn Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā Kṛṣṇa clearly said,\n\nyat karoṣi yad aśnāsi yaj juhoṣi dadāsi yat  \nyat tapasyasi kaunteya tat kuruṣva mad-arpaṇam\n\n(Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā: 9.27)\n\n\"Offer Me anything you do in your life.\"\n\nWhen someone lives in this consciousness, then they live in the transcendental service world. But to offer our actions to the Lord according to our own ideas and desires is not the highest standard of spiritual life. Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu dismissed this verse from Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā in His conversation with Rāmānanda Rāy in Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta because He wanted to establish the mood and ideal of exclusive, pure devotion to Kṛṣṇa.\n\nŚrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu's conception is that if Kṛṣṇa says to you, \"I want a samosa; if you bring Me a samosa, I will be very satisfied\", and you bring Kṛṣṇa a samosa, then your activity will surely be pleasing to Kṛṣṇa. This is real Bhāgavat-dharma and the standard of devotion established by Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu. Real Bhāgavat-dharma means surrendering to Kṛṣṇa and serving Him according to His will by understanding the desire of Kṛṣṇa and trying to satisfy Him in that way—making offerings to Kṛṣṇa according to His desires and not ours.\n\nWhen Kṛṣṇa Himself explains how you can satisfy Him and you follow that process, then you are following the best process to serve and satisfy Kṛṣṇa. It may be difficult for the ego to do this, but it is very simple, and it is certain that Kṛṣṇa will be satisfied by it.\n\nye vai bhagavatā proktā upāyā hy ātma-labdhaye  \nañjaḥ puṁsām aviduṣāṁ viddhi bhāgavatān hi tān\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam: 11.2.34)\n\nKṛṣṇa says, \"It doesn't matter if you do not have any knowledge or intelligence or so many qualities and qualifications. If you follow the process that I say will satisfy Me, then I will be very happy with you and I will become your property.\"\n\nWhen Kṛṣṇa wants to give Himself, He can give Himself to anyone, and what He says is the most satisfying to Him is the supreme way to serve Him. Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu established this as a higher, but also simple, standard of devotion for everyone. If we try to follow it in accordance with His desire, we will be supremely benefitted, and gradually all mundane desires will be ousted from our hearts.\n\nThe best form of bhakti-yoga\n\nThere are nine primary forms of bhakti-yoga. They give us the opportunity to engage our mind, senses, and body—everything—in Kṛṣṇa's service.\n\nśravaṇaṁ kīrtanaṁ viṣṇoḥ smaraṇaṁ pāda-sevanam  \narchanaṁ vandanaṁ dāsyaṁ sakhyam ātma-nivedanam\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam: 7.5.23)\n\nŚravaṇ means hearing Kṛṣṇa-kathā [glorification of Kṛṣṇa] from a Sādhu, Guru, or Vaiṣṇava. It means hearing about Kṛṣṇa consciousness and Kṛṣṇa's Holy Name. Kīrtan means glorifying Kṛṣṇa, His devotees, and Their divine Pastimes; preaching about Kṛṣṇa consciousness; and chanting Kṛṣṇa's Holy Name. Smaraṇ means remembering the Lord and our spiritual life of service. Pāda-sevana means serving the Lord's lotus feet. Archan means worshipping the Lord's Deity form. Vandana means praying to the Lord. Dāsya means becoming the Lord's servant. Sakhya means serving the Lord as our best friend. Ātma-nivedan means fully surrendering ourself to the Lord. These nine forms of bhakti-yoga are described in the Prahlād-charitra of Śrīmad Bhāgavatam, and through these practices the Lord's devotees engage in the Lord's service twenty-four hours a day.\n\nŚrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu commented that among the nine forms of bhakti-yoga, two are the best.\n\ntāra madhye sarva-śreṣṭha nāma-saṅkīrtana\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Antya-līlā, 4.71)\n\n\"Among all the devotional processes to satisfy the Lord, Nām-saṅkīrtan, that is, śravaṇ and kīrtan, hearing and chanting the Lord's glories and Holy Name, are supreme.\"\n\nŚrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu's conception is that śravaṇ and kīrtan are the vital activities of a spiritual practitioner's life. You can see the light of this conception everywhere within all religions. There are many different types of religious practices, but it is a practice in all religions to chant the Lord's Name. For example, in Islam they chant the name 'Allah'; in Christianity they chant the name 'God'; and in Buddhism they chant the name 'Buddha'. All religions have some spiritual connection with the Lord and want to take people to a higher level of consciousness through the Lord's Name.\n\nThe full form of the spiritual world and the jīva-souls' spiritual destiny have been manifested to some people in a covered way, to some in a slightly open way, and to some in a fully open way. Because of this there are different religions which have different opinions about the nature of our spiritual destination and the path we should follow to reach it. Still, all religions want to take everyone from a material position to a transcendental position. This is the common purpose of all religions. Anyone can see that and also see that all religions use the process of chanting the Lord's Name. It is not so important whether they connect with the Lord, who is everyone's eternal Master, by saying, 'Allah', or 'God', or 'Son of God', or 'Lord Jesus Christ', or 'Buddha', or 'Brahma', or 'Śiva', or any other Name. What is important is that everyone feels, \"There is power flowing within the wave of the Lord's Name.\"\n\nChanting the Lord's Name means connecting with the Lord's transcendental vibration form. Through śravaṇ-kīrtan, hearing and chanting the Lord's Name and glories, everyone can easily connect their mood of devotion with the transcendental wave of devotion, the flow of service to the Lord.\n\nIn the material world there are always two waves flowing: the waves of kāma and prema. They take us either up or down. Whenever we connect with the transcendental wave of prema, we are fully satisfied. Whenever we see people gathered together to hear and chant about the Lord according to the flow of that wave of the transcendental spirit of devotion, then we experience a manifestation of the atmosphere of Vaikuṇṭha, the Lord's transcendental abode. Bhagavān Śrī Kṛṣṇa Himself even says,\n\nnāhaṁ tiṣṭhāmi vaikuṇṭhe yogināṁ hṛdayena cha  \nmad-bhaktāḥ yatra gāyanti tatra tiṣṭhāmi nārada\n\n(Padma-purāṇa: Uttara-khaṇḍa, 92.21–22)\n\n\"I am not really present in Vaikuṇṭhaloka or in the hearts of meditative yogīs. I am present where My devotees sing My glories.\"\n\nIn this way we can understand that the Lord's desire is that we chant His Holy Name, and that we can serve Him in the way most pleasing to Him by chanting His Holy Names in Hari-nām-saṅkīrtan.\n\nThe essential ingredient\n\nWe can also understand the supreme position of Hari-nām-saṅkīrtan through Śrīmad Bhāgavatam. Vedavyās composed Śrīmad Bhāgavatam after presenting the Vedas, Vedānta, Upaniṣads, Purāṇas, and so on, and in Śrīmad Bhāgavatam he presented his ultimate conclusion. So many scriptures can be found within the Vedic school and culture, and within them so many ṛṣis, munis, and scholars present their research. Vedavyās collected and presented the gist of all of this in his Śrīmad Bhāgavatam. Lastly, he ended Śrīmad Bhāgavatam with his final advice:\n\nnāma-saṅkīrtanaṁ yasya sarva-pāpa-praṇāśanam  \npraṇāmo duḥkha-śamanas taṁ namāmi hariṁ param\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam's final verse: 12.13.23)\n\n\"Chant the Lord's Holy Name, trying to satisfy Him and His associates. Try to avoid all connection with material existence as you practise Hari-nām-saṅkīrtan. By doing so you will be freed from all sin and you will reach the supreme goal of your spiritual life: service to your Lord, Śrī Kṛṣṇa, in the transcendental world.\" In this way Vedavyās ended Śrīmad Bhāgavatam with his final prescription and conclusion: Hari-nām-saṅkīrtan is best for everyone.\n\nWhenever anyone participates in any religious function it is necessary for them to understand why they are participating in it. Indian religion has its own customs; Muslim religion has its own customs; other Western religions have their own customs. All religious people follow those customs and the rules and regulations they prescribe, and through that everyone gets some auspicious connection in their lives. But what is the fundamental basis of that auspicious connection? It is always connection with the Lord through His Holy Name.\n\nBefore any Vedic sacrifice is performed a particular mantram is always recited to invoke auspiciousness.\n\nmaṅgalaṁ bhagavān viṣṇur maṅgalaṁ madhusūdanaḥ  \nmaṅgalaṁ hṛṣikeśo 'yaṁ maṅgalāyatano hariḥ  \nviṣṇūchchāraṇa-mātrena kṛṣṇasya smaranād-dhareḥ  \nsarva vighnāni naśyanti maṅgalaṁ syān na saṁsayaḥ\n\n(Bṛhad-Viṣṇu-purāṇa)\n\n\"The Supreme Lord, who has many Names, like Viṣṇu, Madhusūdan, Hṛṣīkeś, and Hari, is the abode of all auspiciousness. Simply by remembering Him and chanting His Names all obstacles are destroyed and all auspiciousness manifests. There is no doubt about this.\"\n\nThis maṅgalācharaṇam, invocation of auspiciousness, reveals that everything will be auspicious if it is accompanied by chanting the Lord's Holy Name. Auspiciousness means connection with the Lord, and that connection, Kṛṣṇa consciousness, is what produces all actual auspiciousness. This is the fundamental basis of all religion. It is first of all necessary for everyone to understand that all religious functions will be supremely auspicious when they are based on chanting the Lord's Holy Names. In that way everyone can understand the fundamental basis and purpose of all religious activity: satisfying the Lord.\n\nThe Hari-bhakti-vilāsa, the topmost guide for all Vaiṣṇava religious functions, says that there is a mantram to invoke auspiciousness not only for beginning, but also for ending all religious sacrifices.\n\nyadāsaṅga kriyā karma jānatā vāpy ajānatā  \npūrṇaṁ bhavatu tat sarvaṁ śrī harer nāma kīrtanāt\n\n(Śrī Hari-bhakti-vilāsa)\n\nThis ending mantram says, \"Whatever offence I may have made during the performance of this religious sacrifice—knowingly or unknowingly, willingly or unwillingly—will be removed and everything will be fulfilled by performing Hari-nām-saṅkīrtan.\"\n\nWe know there are so many possible faults, both internal and external, in performing religious sacrifices, and we know it is not possible to perfectly perform any religious function. We know we must make some mistakes and get insufficient results according to our karma. But all deficiency and offence can be removed by Hari-nām-saṅkīrtan. Through humble apology and prayer to the Lord in Nām-saṅkīrtan everything can be set right. Thus Hari-nām-saṅkīrtan is our only actual hope to satisfy the Lord. We must include it in everything we do.\n\nThe power of Hari-nām-saṅkīrtan\n\nHari-nām-saṅkīrtan is so powerful that it can even overcome the extreme influence of the current Age of Kali, the Age of Quarrel. This age is filled with so many bad qualities. There is always a sinful wave blowing throughout the material world in the Age of Kali, and there is almost no real religious practice left in the world because of it. In the Age of Kali three of the four primary religious principles—austerity, cleanliness, and mercy—are broken. Only the principle of truthfulness remains, and the influence of Kali is also trying to break this principle constantly. The jīva-souls must be hopeless and frustrated in this age because they do not have a good opportunity for religious practice.\n\nTo give relief to the conditioned souls suffering in the Age of Kali's disturbing environment, Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu mercifully taught everyone how they can connect with the Lord and progress in their spiritual life through the Lord's Holy Name.\n\nharer nāma harer nāma harer nāmaiva kevalam  \nkalau nāsty eva nāsty eva nāsty eva gatir anyathā\n\n(Bṛhan-Nāradīya-purāṇa)\n\nMahāprabhu said, \"You need relief from the wave of exploitation in this world, and you need to get back your real consciousness of being an eternal servitor of the Lord. So you must chant your Lord's Holy Name as your primary duty.\" Harer Nāma Harer Nāma Harer Nāmaiva kevalam: thrice Mahāprabhu said that in this Age of Kali only by chanting the Lord's Name can you realise your spiritual position. And thrice Mahāprabhu said, \"Kalau nāsty eva nāsty eva nāsty eva gatir anyathā: you have no alternative. There is no other way to proceed.\"\n\nThe basis and significance of Mahāprabhu's teaching is expressed very clearly in Śrīmad Bhāgavatam:\n\nkaler doṣa-nidhe rājann asti hy eko mahān guṇaḥ  \nkīrtanād eva kṛṣṇasya mukta-bandhaḥ paraṁ vrajet\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam: 12.3.51)\n\nThe Age of Kali is filled with so many faults. Dyūtaṁ pānaṁ striyaḥ sūnā (SB: 1.17.38): in the Age of Kali gambling, intoxication, illicit sex, animal-killing, and money conquer the entire world. The Age of Kali is like an ocean of faults, an ocean of disturbances, an ocean of challenges to practising spiritual life. Everything in the Age of Kali is covered by Kali's influence, and no one can cross over that influence. Asti hy eko mahān guṇaḥ: yet there is one very good quality, one exception and opportunity found in the Age of Kali that will give everyone the facility to harmonise everything. There is one right within everything wrong there. There is one light that can remove all the darkness there. What is that? Kṛṣṇa-kīrtan.\n\nkīrtanād eva kṛṣṇasya mukta-bandhaḥ paraṁ vrajet\n\nThrough chanting Kṛṣṇa's Holy Name—connecting ourselves with the Lord's transcendental vibration form—we will be able to feel that Kṛṣṇa is living within our hearts. The Lord is present in everyone's heart, and by chanting His Holy Name that will naturally be revealed to us. When we have a connection with the Lord's transcendental form through His Holy Name, all inauspiciousness will leave us, and everything will be set right. The reactionary environment and the influence of Kali will leave us. We will get a positive connection with the transcendental world where love and affection, chastity and sincerity, everything beautiful and harmless exist within eternal life and eternal time. There, in the eternal realm where we will live with Kṛṣṇa, we will have no fear. Our life with Kṛṣṇa will always be enriched with all beauty, love, and affection. It will be enriched with all good qualities and qualifications. Kṛṣṇa-kīrtan will reveal that Kṛṣṇa is within our heart. Then mukta-bandha: we will be liberated into pure and perfect, very, very happy life. We will cross the gravitational field of the mortal world and find an undisturbed peaceful life in the plane of dedication. Finally, param vrajet: there, according to our attachment, our transcendental relationship with Kṛṣṇa, the Akhila-rasāmṛta-mūrti, the emporium of all rasa, will be revealed to us.\n\nThis is the simple method for spiritual realisation given in Śrīmad Bhāgavatam. It was spread by Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu, Śrīla Saraswatī Ṭhākur, and Śrīla Guru Mahārāj: \"Be surrendered to Kṛṣṇa and chant Kṛṣṇa's Name. You will be super-benefitted in your life. When you chant Kṛṣṇa's Name without offence, then Kṛṣṇa's Name, Form, Qualities, and Pastimes—everything—will be revealed to you.\"\n\nThis is our Guru-varga's only preaching to general people. They simply taught people about Kṛṣṇa's Name and the mood needed to chant Kṛṣṇa's Name properly. They taught that everyone must start their spiritual life by chanting the Hare Kṛṣṇa mahāmantra in a mood of full surrender to the Lord. If anyone can chant the Lord's Holy Name in pure śaraṇāgati then the higher stages of dāsya-rasa, sakhya-rasa, vātsalya-rasa, and madhura-rasa will automatically come to them. Before one can chant in a fully surrendered mood the higher stages of rasa wait for one to become qualified, and when one is qualified, one's divine relationship with the Lord is naturally revealed. That is the actual way souls can realise and pursue their fortune in pure Kṛṣṇa consciousness.\n\nThis one verse, Kaler-doṣa-nidhe Rājan, gives us sufficient knowledge to understand Kṛṣṇa consciousness, but it is necessary to learn it from a proper guardian. Then we will be worry-free and successful. We may live in the polluted atmosphere of Kali-yuga, but we will always be conscious about that environment of misconception and try to connect with the Lord through His Holy Name. The material world is mundane, but Kṛṣṇa consciousness and Kṛṣṇa's Name are chetanā, spiritual.\n\nnāma chintāmaṇiḥ kṛṣṇaś chaitanya-rasa-vigrahaḥ  \npūrṇaḥ śuddho nitya-mukto 'bhinnatvān nāma-nāminoḥ\n\n(Padma-purāṇa)\n\nThe Lord and His Holy Name are nondifferent. Our connection with Them is always a living matter, never a dead matter, and the result of that connection must come to us. By serving Kṛṣṇa's Name we will get direct service to Kṛṣṇa because Kṛṣṇa and His Name are nondifferent. Kṛṣṇa's Name is like a wish-fulfilling jewel; He can immediately give us anything we desire for His service if we are properly connected with Him. Kṛṣṇa's Name, Kṛṣṇa's fame, Kṛṣṇa's Pastimes—Kṛṣṇa's everything—are all transcendental. When we chant even once without offence, \"Śrī Kṛṣṇa\", Kṛṣṇa will reveal Himself to us within that sound; He will reveal His transcendental vibration form.\n\nīśvaraḥ paramaḥ kṛṣṇaḥ sach-chid-ānanda-vigrahaḥ  \nanādir ādir govindaḥ sarva-kāraṇa-kāraṇam\n\n(Śrī Brahma-saṁhitā: 5.1)\n\nKṛṣṇa is the Supreme Personality of Godhead, and He is eternally manifested as the cowherd boy Govinda. His form, His Name, His fame—everything about Him—are transcendental and can be revealed anywhere and everywhere. As Paramātmā, Kṛṣṇa lives within everyone, within every atom of creation. The conditioned jīva-souls cannot feel that, but when they are liberated they are given that feeling. They feel, \"Kṛṣṇa is with me.\" This feeling comes to them through Kṛṣṇa's transcendental vibration form, His Holy Name.\n\nŚabda-brahma\n\nŚrīla Rūpa Goswāmī Prabhu has explained that Kṛṣṇa, the Akhila-rasāmṛta-mūrti, the emporium of all rasa, mercifully appears in this world in two ecstatic divine forms to bestow His mercy upon the liberated and conditioned souls. One form is His vāchya form: His personal form which His Holy Name indicates. The other form is His vāchaka form: the transcendental vibration form of His personal form—His Holy Name.\n\nKṛṣṇa's Holy Name is called Śabda-brahma in the Vedas. Śabda means sound vibration, but here śabda means transcendental vibration, not the vibration we can hear with our ears. Brahma means the Lord's full, divine, conscious form, with His potency—the Supreme Autocrat who can manifest as He likes any way, anywhere, anytime. Thus Śabda-brahma means the divine vibration form of Bhagavān Śrī Kṛṣṇa, Brahma-svarūp, Parabrahma. It means the divine form of Brahma, whose Name, Form, Fame, Associates, Abode, Pastimes, and so on, are transcendental.\n\nŚabda-brahma descends from the Lord's transcendental abode through the proper channel of Guru-paramparā. Everyone in this age who gets a connection with the Lord's transcendental vibration form, Śabda-brahma, is so fortunate, and when that Name dances in their clean heart, they realise their eternal fortune, and everything mundane leaves them.\n\nIt is not actually possible for the conditioned souls to immediately receive the Lord's Name with a clean heart. When the Holy Name descends into their hearts through Guru-paramparā, He appears with His own power and personally cleans everything within their hearts. In that way the jīva-souls gradually become qualified to chant the Name purely. Then they realise the supreme benefit of their spiritual lives.\n\nEmpowered to rescue\n\nThe Lord's Holy Name is also described in the scriptures as Tāraka-brahma-nām: the divine vibration form of the Lord, full with His power and mercy, which can rescue the conditioned souls from the lowest level of material existence and reveal the transcendental service world in their hearts. Through His Tāraka-brahma-nām the Lord gives the conditioned souls entrance into His service in different loving relationships, which are always full of transcendental joy, beauty, and charm. The waves of kāma and prema are always flowing in this material world; the Lord's Tāraka-brahma-nām is the primary way the jīva-souls can connect with the wave of prema and leave the influence of the illusory environment.\n\nIn the mundane world there are four ages, which pass in a cyclic way like the seasons. They are known as the Ages of Satya, Tretā, Dvāpar, and Kali. Each age has particular qualities, and there is a special arrangement within each age to connect with the wave of prema through the Lord's Tāraka-brahma-nām. The Lord's Tāraka-brahma-nām is always complete with His potency, but there are different processes and formulations for chanting the Tāraka-brahma-nām in the different ages. The Vedas prescribe for each age a mahāmantra, a supreme mantram, of the Lord's Holy Names, that is best for that time and environment.\n\nnārāyaṇa-para vedā nārāyaṇa-parākṣarāḥ  \nnārāyaṇa-parā muktir nārāyaṇa-parā gatiḥ\n\n(Satya-yuga mahāmantra)\n\nrāma nārāyaṇānanta mukunda madhusūdana  \nkṛṣṇa keśava kaṁsāre hare vaikuṇṭha vāmana\n\n(Tretā-yuga mahāmantra)\n\nhare murāre madhu-kaiṭabhāre  \ngopāla govinda mukunda saure  \nyajñeśa nārāyaṇa kṛṣṇa viṣṇo  \nvirāśrayaṁ māṁ jagadīśa rakṣa\n\n(Dvāpar-yuga mahāmantra)\n\nhare kṛṣṇa hare kṛṣṇa kṛṣṇa kṛṣṇa hare hare  \nhare rāma hare rāma rāma rāma hare hare\n\n(Kali-yuga mahāmantra)\n\nDuring each age everyone chants and meditates on these mahāmantras. Through them souls are liberated and enter into the transcendental service world. Whenever fortunate souls properly chant a mahāmantra they can proceed happily to their spiritual destination.\n\nThe Hare Kṛṣṇa mahāmantra\n\nIn the Age of Kali the transcendental vibration form of the Lord, the Lord's Tāraka-brahma-nām, appears as the Hare Kṛṣṇa mahāmantra. Though the other mahāmantras are prescribed for the other ages, the Hare Kṛṣṇa mahāmantra is actually the supreme mantram for all the ages. Of all mantrams, the Hare Kṛṣṇa mahāmantra is the best, as it is both the highest and most powerful. Only in the Hare Kṛṣṇa mahāmantra do we find Lord Śrī Kṛṣṇa with Śrīmatī Rādhārāṇī, the Powerful with His ecstatic Power. So only through the Hare Kṛṣṇa mahāmantra are we directly connected with full-fledged theism: the sonhood of Godhead and paramour love for the Lord. In this way we can understand the supreme position of the Hare Kṛṣṇa mahāmantra. Also, the Hare Kṛṣṇa mahāmantra is most powerful because only in the Hare Kṛṣṇa mahāmantra is there the full expression of self-surrender and the mood of calling to Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa to appear within our hearts and fulfil our heart's necessity for Their service. One of Rādhārāṇī's Names is Harā, and when Harā is called, it is expressed as Hare. Kṛṣṇa within the mahāmantra is also a vocative expression of Kṛṣṇa's Name. So chanting Hare Kṛṣṇa actually means calling Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa and praying for Their mercy.\n\nIn this way we can understand that through the Hare Kṛṣṇa mahāmantra we can best fulfil our life's goal of connecting with the transcendental wave of prema. Thus we are so hopeful that our lives and all of our activities will be successful by chanting the Hare Kṛṣṇa mahāmantra.\n\nThe gift of Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu\n\nThe supreme gift of the Hare Kṛṣṇa mahāmantra has come to us by the grace of Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu, the divine form of Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa combined, who appeared in Nabadwīp Dhām to distribute this process of chanting His Holy Name. He is the worshippable Deity for the Age of Kali, and because He is the giver of the supreme gift—the Hare Kṛṣṇa mahāmantra—He is Parama-karuṇā, the most merciful Lord.\n\nsatyaṁ kali-yuga vipra śrī harer nāma maṅgalaṁ  \nparaṁ svastyayanaṁ nṛnāṁ nāsty eva gatir anyathā\n\n(Padma-purāṇa)\n\nharer nāma harer nāma harer nāmaiva kevalam  \nkalau nāsty eva nāsty eva nāsty eva gatir anyathā\n\n(Bṛhan-Nāradīya-purāṇa)\n\nMahāprabhu taught everyone: \"In the Age of Kali all auspiciousness can be found only in the chanting of the Lord's Holy Name. Hari-nām-saṅkīrtan is the only way to attain the highest auspiciousness.\"\n\nIn this age it is not necessary to read a Ganges full of scriptures. It is only necessary to chant the Lord's Divine Name. Chanting the Holy Name is most appropriate for the conditioned souls in the Age of Kali. Especially during this age the mundane world is full of sorrow, and happiness only comes to the conditioned souls through chanting the Lord's Holy Name. The Lord descends from Goloka Vṛndāvan—where His divine play is always flowing with all varieties of charming qualities—in the form of the Hare Kṛṣṇa mahāmantra in the Age of Kali to connect everyone with His beauty and ecstasy. There is no alternative actually to trying to chant the Hare Kṛṣṇa mahāmantra without offence, to happily trying to chant with faith, love, and affection. Harer Nāmaiva kevalam: it is necessary to always chant the Holy Name and to not do anything without chanting. Chanting the Lord's Holy Name is the goal of life, and the soul is supremely benefitted by it.\n\nFocus on the Name\n\nOur only necessity is to connect with the wave of devotion descending from the transcendental world through the Lord's Holy Name and offer ourselves for its purpose. By chanting the Lord's Holy Name His transcendental form will be revealed in our hearts. The Lord's Name will firmly connect us with the Lord's sach-chid-ānanda-vigraha: His eternal, fully conscious, ecstatic form, which is seen and served by great souls like Brahmā, Nārad, and Vedavyās. Śrīla Rūpa Goswāmī Prabhu has prayed,\n\nnikhila-śruti-mauli-ratna-mālā-  \ndyuti-nīrājita-pāda-paṅkajānta  \nayi mukta-kulair upāsyamānaṁ  \nparitas tvāṁ hari-nāma saṁśrayāmi\n\n(Śrī Nāmāṣṭakam: 1)\n\n\"O divine form of the Holy Name! Your lotus feet are worshipped by the Vedas, Vedānta, Upaniṣads, Purāṇas, Śrīmad Bhāgavatam, Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā, and all the other scriptures. All these scriptures, along with all the liberated souls, offer ārati to Your lotus feet. Please be merciful and give me Your divine service. I fully surrender at Your lotus feet.\"\n\nŚrīla Rūpa Goswāmī Prabhu glorified the Holy Name in this way, and there are so many more verses in the scriptures about the Lord's Name. Nothing, anywhere, compares with the position and power of the Holy Name. By chanting the Lord's Name our mood of devotion will increase, the illusory environment will leave us, and our feelings of transcendental ecstasy, charm, beauty, and love in our relationship with the Lord will increase in our heart. With those feelings we will be unable to leave the association of the Lord's Holy Name and service.\n\nAttracting the Absolute Autocrat\n\nQuestion: Mahārāj, why do many devotees recommend that we should concentrate on the sound vibration of the Holy Name when chanting? To me that seems to be like impersonal meditation. I feel that a mood of prayer must be present in our chanting. Why is focus on the Holy Name's sound vibration recommended?\n\nŚrīla Govinda Mahārāj: Mental concentration is one kind of yoga practice. Through such yoga practice we can acquire some supernatural power (siddhi), but we cannot force the Holy Name to appear from the transcendental world in our hearts. The practice of mental concentration alone will not be fruitful for us.\n\nThe Lord and His Holy Name are fully autocratic. In the first verse of Śrīmad Bhāgavatam it is expressed, \"Ārtheṣv Abhijñaḥ Svarāṭ tene Brahma hṛdā ya ādi-kavaye muhyanti yat sūrayaḥ: the Lord is an all-knowing Autocrat and everything depends entirely upon His will. He can appear in anyone's heart, and He can also bewilder anyone.\" Only a mood of surrendered devotion and dedication is truly helpful in chanting the Lord's Holy Name. We can only try to attract His grace. We cannot force the Lord to appear.\n\nPraying for a drop of mercy\n\nThere is a bird known as the chātak that drinks only water that falls from the clouds. The chātak bird does not drink water from any pond or river. It doesn't drink from anywhere on the earth. He depends only on rainwater that he catches as it falls from the clouds. When rain clouds appear in the sky the chātak bird loudly sings their praises, and when raindrops begin to fall, he runs this way and that way to catch them. The chātak bird is satisfied with the raindrops he catches, and he never accepts any water from anywhere else.\n\nWhen a rain cloud appears in the sky, rain is not the only possible outcome. A rain cloud may produce a thunderbolt that can easily destroy a small bird. Still the chātak bird runs around in the middle of a storm catching raindrops and does not care about the danger. His mood is that the clouds are his only shelter and source of life, and he will never consider anything otherwise.\n\nŚrīla Rūpa Goswāmī Prabhu used the chātak bird as an analogy for the way we should pray to the Lord as we chant His Holy Name. His expression is very beautiful,\n\nvirachaya mayi daṇḍaṁ dīna-bandho dayāṁ vā  \ngatir iha na bhavattaḥ kāchid anyā mamāsti  \nnipatatu śata-koṭir nirbharaṁ vā navāmbhas  \ntad api kila payodaḥ stūyate chātakena\n\n(Śrī Stava-mālā: 1.16.1)\n\n\"O my Lord Kṛṣṇa! I need a drop of mercy from You. Please bestow that upon me. I am waiting for Your mercy like a chātak bird who waits for drops of water to fall from the clouds. You can give me one drop of Your mercy or You can choose not to. That depends on Your desire, but I will not accept anything from anywhere else. If You want to punish me like a cloud which may cast thunderbolts at a chātak bird, I can tolerate that. Still I will not go anywhere else; I desire only Your mercy.\n\n\"Virachaya mayi daṇḍam Dīna-bandhu! dayāṁ vā: You may bestow Your mercy upon me or You may punish me. O Lord! I know that I am very poor and that I have no actual devotional property. You may send me a thunderbolt or a drop of water. It is Your decision. Regardless of Your choice, I will always chant Your glories and remain surrendered to Your lotus feet. I will never take anything from the ground: whatever grace I receive from You I will consider to be sufficient for me.\"\n\nThis type of exclusive devotional mood in chanting the Lord's Holy Name is necessary for everyone. It will super-benefit the conditioned souls, and liberated souls are always relishing that mood.\n\nFinalising our relationship\n\nIn this way Śrīla Rūpa Goswāmī Prabhu shows us how to pray with an attentive and exclusive mood of devotion. It is necessary to chant the Lord's Holy Name with this mood in order to draw the grace of the Lord to us. We must consider that whatever we need will come to us through our prayer and the Lord's grace, and that through this mood of prayer the Lord will be inspired to bestow His mercy upon us.\n\nWhen we chant the Lord's Holy Name it is not necessary to think or focus on anything. We only need to chant in a prayerful mood of surrender, considering, \"I am Yours, and You are mine.\" Through this mood our relationship with the Lord will be finalised. At first it will not become final, but by chanting, chanting, and chanting, slowly the Source of our chanting, the Lord, will fully acquire our mind. Then sarvāḥ sukhamayā diśaḥ (SB: 11.14.14), we will see joy in all directions. The Lord's Holy Name will enter our heart and give us full nourishment: supreme kalyāṇ, maṅgal, benefit, auspiciousness, and so on.\n\nAppealing in the court of mercy\n\nWhen devotees try to chant the Lord's Holy Names they may feel, \"I cannot attentively chant the Lord's Holy Name. I do not have a pure mood of surrender and devotion. So who am I? What qualification do I have? Kṛṣṇa is so great; why would Kṛṣṇa bestow His merciful glance upon me?\" Through this realisation and mood of self-examination the devotee will eventually conclude to pray: \"The only hope I have is that I may receive Kṛṣṇa's 'causeless' mercy. If His causeless mercy suddenly comes to me, I will consider that my greatest good fortune and I will get everything through that.\"\n\nIf we bring ourselves before the Lord in the court of justice, we have no hope. But if we bring ourselves before the Lord in the court of mercy, we have so much hope. Śrīla Rūpa Goswāmī and Śrīla Sanātan Goswāmī have expressed,\n\nāpane ayogya dekhi' mane pāṅ kṣobha  \ntathāpi tomāra guṇe upajaya lobha\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Madhya-līlā, 1.204)\n\n\"We are sure that we are unqualified and insignificant. There is no doubt about this. We are fallen souls with many disqualifications. But we are also sure that Kṛṣṇa is very merciful and highly qualified. There is also no doubt about that.\"\n\nWhen we hear these types of prayers and promises in the scriptures we become fully enthusiastic. Kṛṣṇa's mercy is infinite and can easily take us into the transcendental abode of His service. Kṛṣṇa's nature is to attract the jīva-souls and reveal His ecstasy—Kṛṣṇa-prema—in their hearts. Kṛṣṇa is so merciful and can do everything, so we can always be hopeful. Devotees who are very attached to Mahāprabhu's teachings will try to chant the Lord's Holy Name with this exclusive mood.\n\nWe have no other way but to chant the Lord's Holy Name in humble surrender. Devotees may sometimes count while they chant, and they may sometimes chant without counting. They may sometimes chant quietly and sometimes chant loudly. In all circumstances, they chant with a mood of prayer, \"Whether or not the Lord will see me or bestow His mercy upon me is His personal matter. I must simply chant His Holy Name and have faith that one day I may receive His causeless mercy.\"\n\nHope for the hopeless\n\nThere is another expression of the devotees' mood:\n\nparama-kāruṇiko na bhavat-paraḥ  \nparama-śochyatamo na cha mat-paraḥ  \niti vichintya hare mayi pāmare  \nyad uchitaṁ yadu-nātha tad āchara\n\n(Padyāvalī: Bhaktānām-māhātmyam, 66)\n\n\"O Kṛṣṇa, I do not know my position, but You know who I am. I am feeling I am in an insignificant, unqualified, ignorant, lamentable, and sad position. I have no quality or qualification, and I feel I cannot actually do anything. Your position is Supreme. You are the supremely merciful rescuer of the fallen souls. You have promised that You will give special attention to the ignorant fallen souls who are in need, and rescue those who take shelter at Your lotus feet. I do not know if I can take full shelter of You or not, but I am offering myself to You with my all and everything. You can see me present before You, so please give me Your merciful glance.\n\n\"You are the supreme rescuer of the fallen souls, Patita Pāvan, and I am a super-conditioned soul (patita), so please do the needful. I will not tell You what to do. You can see everything perfectly. I only pray that You do what is necessary for me. I do not see any soul who is more fallen than myself; You bestow Your mercy upon the most fallen souls first, so I am very hopeful You will do the needful and rescue me.\"\n\nThere are so many songs and expressions of prayer to the Lord which explain our position and the Lord's position. We can see that everywhere the jīva-souls are in both a hopeless position and a hopeful position. Alone they must be hopeless, but in connection with the Lord they must be hopeful. So lastly, through the Lord's grace, the jīva-souls can always be hopeful, and that is the mood of a devotee.\n\nArising from within the heart\n\nDevotee: In the scriptures it says that we need to chant the Holy Name constantly to remove our offences against the Holy Name. I have also heard that we should chant only a small number of times with full concentration. Can you explain something about the importance of quality and quantity in chanting?\n\nŚrīla Govinda Mahārāj: It is not hard to understand the difference between quality and quantity in chanting the Holy Name. We need to satisfy Kṛṣṇa and His nondifferent form of the Holy Name. Chanting in a way that is satisfying to the Holy Name is quality chanting. That will draw down the revelation of the pure Holy Name in our hearts. When the Lord's Name is pleased with us, He will appear in His transcendental vibration form on our tongue.\n\nWe cannot see Kṛṣṇa's divine form, and we cannot hear Kṛṣṇa's Holy Name. What comes from our tongue when we chant is not transcendental because our tongue is not transcendental. But our tongue can attain a transcendental form when the Lord's Divine Name appears there. Quality chanting means making our tongue transcendental by attracting the Divine Name, the Lord's transcendental vibration form, to appear there.\n\nThe Lord made the special sanction in the Age of Kali, \"I shall manifest in My transcendental vibration form in the heart of a surrendered soul who has purified consciousness.\" Śrīla Bhakti Vinod Ṭhākur explained,\n\nhṛdaya haite bale,  jihvāra agrete chale,  \nśabda-rūpe nāche anukṣana\n\n(Śaraṇāgati: Śrī Nāma-māhātmya, 2)\n\n\"Hari-nām Himself will forcibly move from within the clean heart of a devotee to the tip of his tongue and dance there in the form of sound vibration.\"\n\nThe Holy Name needs a proper place to reveal Himself. Without the atmosphere of a clean heart, a surrendered mood of prayer and devotion, the divine vibration of the Holy Name will not be attracted to manifest Himself. But someday, like lightning, the Name may appear in our heart and dance on our tongue. That will happen one day if we continue our meditation on the Holy Name. But it is not our meditation actually; it is our chanting service. Through our service mood the Holy Name will appear in our heart.\n\nSometimes the Name first comes to us in a mixed way. He may not first reveal His fully transcendental form. First He may come and go, come and go, come and go. But finally He will stay within us. Eventually that will happen if our mood is always directed towards the service of Kṛṣṇa and our Gurudev. With that mood both what is known to you and what is unknown to you will appear in your heart, and with that revelation you will understand what is light and what is darkness.\n\nEverything depends upon our mood of chanting and mood of service. It is very good if you will think, \"It is my service to chant. I know neither why I am chanting, nor what I should think, and it is not necessary for me to know.\"\n\nTransforming the mind's nature\n\nFor the transformation of the mind's nature (cheto-darpaṇa-mārjanam) it is necessary to remember the Lord constantly. Whoever is able to do this will experience a transformation. We have time, all twenty-four hours of the day, to chant the Lord's Holy Name. Chanting a minimum of four rounds or sixteen rounds in a day is for practice. Our Guru Mahārāj did not say we should chant for only four rounds once during the day. Rather, he taught us that we should chant all throughout the day. With beads or without beads, the feeling should always come to us, \"Now I shall chant the Lord's Holy Name.\"\n\nWe can even remember the Lord when we are sleeping. When a great difficulty comes before us in our life, we may have a dream about it at night. Similarly, if we are always trying to remember Kṛṣṇa, we will also see some form of Kṛṣṇa in our dreams. That is our mind's nature.\n\nIn the Age of Kali it is only necessary to chant the Lord's Holy Name without offence. The first directive is, \"Chant Hare Kṛṣṇa!\" Later, chanting without offence will come to us. If people think that chanting \"Hare Kṛṣṇa\" is for their own benefit, then they will accept the process. But later when they find that they are not getting the full result of chanting and they think about why they are not getting the full result, they will search for the fault in their chanting. They will search through the ten offences to the Holy Name to find their fault and then try to leave that offence. They will see they have to chant for Kṛṣṇa's satisfaction, not for their own satisfaction. They will see through personal reflection that they are chanting for themselves, and then they will try to correct their fault and chant for Kṛṣṇa's satisfaction.\n\nStill, no one should stop their chanting when they see there is some fault in it. Rather, they should continue to constantly remember the Lord and chant His Name. The Lord will reveal Himself to us when He is pleased with our service mood, which we can express by chanting constantly.\n\nWe can serve the Lord physically, verbally, and mentally. We should never stop our service mentally, but we should also serve the Lord with our body. Engaging the body in service does not only mean missionary service; we must change everything we do everywhere into service. That is service-life, and in that way we should try to chant Hare Kṛṣṇa constantly.\n\nMundane difficulties will come to us through our karma, but a devotee does not want to engage Kṛṣṇa in taking care of them. We will not ask Kṛṣṇa to clean our courtyard. It is the nature of a devotee to always want to do something for others, especially Kṛṣṇa. This mood of quality chanting, of service, is necessary first, but we should not leave quantity in our chanting either. What is actually important and necessary is quality, but as much as possible we should also try to chant in quantity. If we leave quantity in our chanting, quality will not come. Chanting in quantity in a regular way is good. Because our mind does not want to chant regularly, we need to practise.\n\nThe mood of a devotee is to constantly chant his Lord's Name. You will see an example of this in the cleaning of the Guṇḍichā Temple. In Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta it is described that everyone chants, \"Kṛṣṇa, Kṛṣṇa\" while they are working with their hands. If someone needs a water bucket, he asks for it by chanting, \"Kṛṣṇa, Kṛṣṇa, Kṛṣṇa, Kṛṣṇa\". Then another devotee gives him a bucket of water while chanting, \"Kṛṣṇa, Kṛṣṇa\", and the devotee then throws that bucket of water while chanting, \"Kṛṣṇa, Kṛṣṇa\".\n\nThe devotees will perform so many activities in their lives, but while they are doing their work they will always try to chant Kṛṣṇa's Name. Then, through their habit of chanting, their mood and mind will transform.\n\nWhen that habit of remembering the Lord comes to us, we will not be able to leave it. We have many habits that we cannot leave. Someone may have an intoxication habit. Someone may have an eating habit. Many persons have so many habits, but if we make our habit only to chant, then we will always chant \"Hare Kṛṣṇa\" within our mind. It is not necessary to show our remembrance and chanting to others though. It is only necessary to chant the Holy Name with quality, that is, a mood of trying to satisfy the Lord.\n\nThe essence of all advice\n\nyena tena prakāreṇa manaḥ kṛṣṇe niveśayet  \nsarve vidhi-niṣedhāḥ syur etayor eva kiṅkarāḥ\n\n(Śrī Bhakti-rasāmṛta-sindhu: Pūrva-vibhāga, 2.4)\n\n\"Somehow or other engage the mind in Kṛṣṇa's service. This is the only directive of all the scriptures.\"\n\nsmartavyaḥ satataṁ viṣṇur vismartavyo na jātuchit  \nsarve vidhi-niṣedhāḥ syur etayor eva kiṅkarāḥ\n\n(Padma-purāṇa)\n\n\"The only prohibition is to never forget Kṛṣṇa, and the only injunction is to always remember Kṛṣṇa. Only these two things are necessary. All the rules and regulations in all the scriptures are actually servants of that purpose: satisfying Kṛṣṇa by always remembering Him and never forgetting Him.\" This is the gist of all the Vedic scriptures' advice.\n\nYou can live anywhere in any position. It is not a question of your situation or lifestyle. It is only necessary that you remember Kṛṣṇa and try to serve Kṛṣṇa. Then the whole illusory environment will leave you, and you will immediately be promoted to life in the transcendental service world where you can satisfy Kṛṣṇa according to His desires. That transcendental service world is not existing in the sky or anywhere 'above us'; it is existing within us. Our own internal environment must change. When there are changes of office within a government, all the office work and general activities continue. It is only the government officers and maybe some of the government's rules that change. The soul's transformation towards Kṛṣṇa consciousness is like that.\nChapter Fifteen   \nŚrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu's   \nMood of Devotion\n\nŚrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu gave the process of chanting the Lord's Holy Names to everyone in the Age of Kali. Chanting the Lord's Name was started by many different religious experts long before Mahāprabhu's appearance. We can see that chanting the Lord's Holy Name is given in the Vedas and side by side in all religions. We can firmly say that the practice of chanting the Lord's Name is the religion of all jīva-souls. All holy books confirm this, though there are different Names of the Lord chanted within different religions. I am very satisfied to see that all the religious leaders and Avatārs of the Lord have given this one direction: \"Chant the Lord's Holy Name.\"\n\nŚrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu has clearly given the very gist of religious life to everyone through His teaching of the practice of chanting the Lord's Holy Names. Mahāprabhu has also shown everyone the proper mood necessary to perfect the practice. He has cautioned everyone that without the proper consciousness and mood the power flowing within the wave of the Lord's Holy Name will not be felt in the heart, and the full form of the Holy Name's transcendental existence will not be realised.\n\nCleaning the mirror of the mind\n\nIn His Śikṣāṣṭakam Mahāprabhu Śrī Chaitanyadev explained the conception and mood needed to purely chant the Lord's Holy Name. In His first verse He glorified Hari-nām-saṅkīrtan and explained the effects of its power:\n\ncheto-darpaṇa-mārjanaṁ bhava-mahā-dāvāgni-nirvāpaṇaṁ  \nśreyaḥ-kairava-chandrikā-vitaraṇaṁ vidyā-vadhū-jīvanam  \nānandāmbudhi-vardhanaṁ prati-padaṁ pūrṇāmṛtāsvādanaṁ  \nsarvātma-snapanaṁ paraṁ vijayate śrī-kṛṣṇa-saṅkīrtanam\n\nHere Mahāprabhu explains very cleanly and clearly that the first necessity for everyone is cheto-darpaṇa-mārjanam: cleaning the mirror of the mind. When we look into a dirty mirror we cannot see our figure, but when it is cleaned we can see ourselves clearly. When the jīva-soul is conditioned by the illusory environment, he forgets himself and his transcendental form as an eternal servitor of Lord Kṛṣṇa. The dust of illusion covers the mirror of the jīva-soul's mind and stops him from seeing clearly. Mahāprabhu teaches that the first step in spiritual life is to realise our true nature. When all the dust of illusion is removed through the practice of Hari-nām-saṅkīrtan and the mirror of our mind is clean, we can clearly see our self and our proper existence. That is called ātma-sākṣātkār: self-realisation. When that comes to us we will see that we are eternal jīva-souls and that Kṛṣṇa is always living with us. We will see that we are members of the transcendental service world. Mahāprabhu says that by chanting the Holy Name we will get relief from the illusory environment, everything will be revealed to us, and we will realise our self's natural property: full connection with the ocean of nectar that is the Lord's eternal service.\n\nThis is a very clean conception and the gist of religious advice: \"Paraṁ vijayate Śrī Kṛṣṇa-saṅkīrtanam: Hari-nām-saṅkīrtan is the supreme practice and will be glorious everywhere. If we can practise Hari-nām-saṅkīrtan under the guidance of a real Vaiṣṇava, it will be the best path and opportunity to reach our spiritual destiny. Through Kṛṣṇa-saṅkīrtan we will get everything, so chant the Lord's Holy Names and clean your heart.\"\n\nThe Lord's infinite Names\n\nIn His second verse Mahāprabhu said,\n\nnāmnām akāri bahudhā nija-sarva-śaktis  \ntatrārpitā niyamitaḥ smaraṇe na kālaḥ  \netādṛśī tava kṛpā bhagavan mamāpi  \ndurdaivam īdṛśam ihājani nānurāgaḥ\n\nHere Mahāprabhu taught us, \"All of the Lord's power is present in His Divine Name (nija-sarva-śaktis tatrārpitā). The Lord has manifested Himself for the benefit of the conditioned souls in the form of His Holy Name (Nāmnām akāri) and given the conditioned souls a connection with Himself through His Name. Bahudhā: the Lord has so many Names, and all of Them are empowered.\"\n\nWhen Mahāprabhu began His saṅkīrtan movement with His students, He did not use the Hare Kṛṣṇa mahāmantra. He first instructed His students to chant:\n\n'haraye namaḥ, kṛṣṇa yādavāya namaḥ  \ngopāla govinda rāma śrī-madhusūdana'\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Ādi-līlā, 17.122)\n\nFor primary practitioners He taught that anyone can chant any Name of the Lord if they have honour, respect, and good feelings for that Name. Mahāprabhu Himself used to chant many different mantrams of the Lord's Names.\n\nkṛṣṇa kṛṣṇa kṛṣṇa kṛṣṇa kṛṣṇa kṛṣṇa kṛṣṇa he!  \nrāma rāma rāma rāma rāma rāma rāma he!  \nkṛṣṇa keśava kṛṣṇa keśava kṛṣṇa keśava rakṣa mām!  \nrāma rāghava rāma rāghava rāma rāghava pāhi mām!\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Madhya-līlā, 7.96)\n\nThe Hare Kṛṣṇa mahāmantra is the supreme mantram, no doubt. It has the highest and most exclusive position, and is best for the Age of Kali. Mahāprabhu specially distributed the Hare Kṛṣṇa mahāmantra to the world and wanted everyone to chant in that way. But He also taught that the Lord bestows His grace through all of His Names, and that anyone can chant any Name of the Lord and purify themselves.\n\nThe Lord has so many different Names:\n\nviṣṇur nārāyaṇaḥ kṛṣṇo vaikuṇṭho viṣṭaraśravāḥ  \ndāmodaro hṛṣīkeśaḥ keśavo mādhavaḥ svabhūḥ  \ndaityāriḥ puṇḍarīkākṣo govindo garuḍadhvajaḥ  \npītāmbaro 'chyutaḥ śārṅgī viṣvakseno janārdanaḥ  \nupendra indrāvarajaś chakrapāṇiś chaturbhujaḥ  \npadmanābho madhuripur vāsudevas trivikramaḥ  \ndevakī-nandanaḥ śauriḥ śrī-patiḥ puruṣottamaḥ  \nvanamālī bali-dhvaṁsī kaṁsārātir adhokṣajaḥ\n\n(Amara-kośa: 1.1.37–44)\n\nMahāprabhu taught that the Lord has manifested unlimited different Names of Himself in this world and has empowered all of Them with the power to rescue the conditioned souls. He explained that the Lord and His Holy Names are nondifferent, and that if anyone chants Them without offence, they will be liberated. Niyamitaḥ smaraṇe na kālaḥ: Mahāprabhu did not give any restrictions regarding the time and place of chanting the Lord's Holy Name. His only rule was that we must remember and chant the Holy Name at all times.\n\nSpiritual misfortune\n\nThen Mahāprabhu prayed,\n\netādṛśī tava kṛpā bhagavan mamāpi  \ndurdaivam īdṛśam ihājani nānurāgaḥ\n\n(Śrī Śikṣāṣṭakam: 2)\n\n\"O Lord, You have bestowed Your great mercy by appearing in this material world in the form of Your Holy Names, but I am very unfortunate: I still do not feel eagerness to chant Your Holy Names.\"\n\nMahāprabhu had full attachment and attraction to Kṛṣṇa and His Holy Name. Mahāprabhu felt the full association of Kṛṣṇa through His Holy Name. So why does Mahāprabhu express that He does not have any attraction to Kṛṣṇa? Because He was so deeply connected with Kṛṣṇa through His Holy Name that He felt ever-increasing hankering for Kṛṣṇa; He felt He needed more and more attachment to Kṛṣṇa's Holy Name. In divine ecstasy Mahāprabhu felt unsatisfied with the Lord's revelation and His own position. He considered Himself unfortunate because He did not have a deeper connection with Kṛṣṇa's Holy Name. We can understand Mahāprabhu's mood in this way, and we can understand that His expression in this verse is also a very important lesson for us.\n\nWith this verse Mahāprabhu also teaches the conditioned souls that the Holy Name is all-powerful—that the Holy Name has full ability to reveal Himself in our hearts—and that we will immediately feel the result of our chanting if we chant the Holy Name purely. Therefore, if we are not experiencing such revelation, if we are not feeling joyful progress in our hearts and minds, if our faith is not becoming firm, if everything is not being fulfilled through our devotional mood, and if we are not getting the association of the Lord through His Divine Name, then we must consider that our durdaiva, our great misfortune.\n\nMelting our stone-like hearts\n\nŚrīla Bhakti Vinod Ṭhākur explained that durdaiva means aparādh, offensive mentality. He explained that Mahāprabhu's teaching for the conditioned souls in His second verse of the Śikṣāṣṭakam is that the Lord's all-powerful Holy Name will not reveal Himself in our hearts if we have an offensive mood. Śrīla Bhakti Vinod Ṭhākur gave this explanation of Mahāprabhu's expression with this verse from Śrīmad Bhāgavatam:\n\ntad aśma-sāraṁ hṛdayaṁ batedaṁ  \nyad gṛhyamāṇair hari-nāma-dheyaiḥ  \nna vikriyetātha yadā vikāro  \nnetre jalaṁ gātra-ruheṣu harṣaḥ\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam: 2.3.24)\n\nŚrīla Bhakti Vinod Ṭhākur put great emphasis on this verse. His explanation was, \"One who hears the glories of the Lord's Holy Name and chants the Lord's Holy Name, but does not develop love and affection for the Holy Name, is a great offender with a stone-like heart. There must be something offensive in their heart, otherwise they would automatically feel love for Kṛṣṇa and chant His Holy Name purely.\"\n\nŚrīla Bhakti Vinod Ṭhākur explained the phrase aśma-sāram, 'stone-like heart', by saying that the heart becomes stone-like when someone has a strong materialistic mentality: \"I am my mundane body and everything that belongs to me is mine.\" When someone has the materialistic mentality of \"I, me, mine\" their devotional practising life and chanting of the Lord's Holy Name is mixed with offence. As there are different varieties of stone, some of which are harder than others, so the hearts of people are not equally hard; some persons' hearts will melt sooner, and some persons' hearts will melt later, though gradually everyone's heart will melt, and everyone will feel love for the Lord's Holy Name.\n\nAvoiding offence\n\nnāmaikaṁ yasya vāchi smaraṇa-patha-gataṁ śrotra-mūlaṁ gataṁ vā  \nśuddhaṁ vāśuddha-varṇaṁ vyavahita-rahitaṁ tārayaty eva satyam  \ntach ched deha-draviṇa-janatā-lobha-pāṣaṇḍa-madhye  \nnikṣiptaṁ syān na phala-janakaṁ śīghram evātra vipra\n\n(Padma-purāṇa)\n\nThe scriptures explain: \"If anyone once hears, chants, or remembers the Lord's Divine Name without any offence, they will be delivered from material existence immediately. If someone maintains their material connections and pursues mundane ends while they chant the Lord's Holy Name, then the result of their chanting does not bear fruit quickly; it gradually comes to them.\"\n\nThis verse gives us necessary consciousness about our practising life by showing us that our offensive mentality is our only obstacle in our chanting of the Holy Name, and that until we can avoid all offences we will not get the proper result of chanting the Holy Name. No one should be hopeless after hearing this caution. In this verse it is indirectly expressed that even if we chant with offences we will eventually get a good result from our chanting.\n\nnāmāparādha-yuktānāṁ nāmāny eva haranty agham\n\n(Padma-purāṇa: Svarga-khaṇḍa, 48.49)\n\n\"If we are chanting Nām-aparādh, chanting the Holy Name with offence, we should never stop our chanting because the Holy Name Himself will remove our offences by His divine influence.\"\n\nIt is necessary to eagerly chant the Lord's Holy Name and always be hopeful. We can always be hopeful because the Lord's Holy Name is always joyful and merciful like Kṛṣṇa Himself. In this way we can understand Mahāprabhu's teaching that if you want to chant the Lord's Holy Name purely and fully satisfy the Lord through your chanting, then you will have to chant the Lord's Holy Name constantly without making offences. Kṛṣṇa will be happy with us when we practise Kṛṣṇa consciousness and chant His Holy Name without offence. If we have love for Kṛṣṇa, then we must try to satisfy Kṛṣṇa by practising and chanting without offence.\n\nIn the Padma-purāṇa the ten offences which must be avoided to chant the Lord's Holy Name purely are explained. We have already published these offences with the original verses and whenever anyone has taken initiation we have given them that book and requested them, \"Read these offences, memorise them, and avoid them.\" That is necessary for everyone.\n\nCuring our offensive mentality\n\nIn the third verse of His Śikṣāṣṭakam Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu has explained the qualifications needed to avoid the ten offences and attract the Lord's Divine Name to reveal Himself in our heart with His full power:\n\ntṛṇād api sunīchena taror iva sahiṣṇunā  \namāninā mānadena kīrtanīyaḥ sadā hariḥ\n\n\"Constantly chant the Lord's Divine Name with a mood of humility, tolerance, and giving honour to others, and without desiring honour for yourself. Then you will become qualified to chant the Lord's Holy Name without offence.\"\n\nHere Mahāprabhu expresses His conception that a real practitioner of Kṛṣṇa consciousness must be humble, be tolerant, give honour to others, and have no desire for honour for themself. These are the essential qualities of a Vaiṣṇava, and anyone who truly has these qualities is qualified to chant the Lord's Holy Name purely.\n\nMahāprabhu's advice is very simple, and by following it sincerely we will easily avoid all offensiveness; no offence will be able to touch us. Mahāprabhu's formula of humility, tolerance, and giving honour to others is the perfect remedy for our misfortune of offensiveness towards the Lord's Name, which He explains in His second verse (Nāmnām akāri bahudhā nija-sarva-śaktis).\n\nSmashing the ego\n\nMahāprabhu gave us this perfect formula because everyone has some ego, and all our offences to the Lord's Name come from ego. Mahāprabhu's teaching is that it is first of all necessary to oust the ego from our mind (cheto-darpaṇa-marjanam). We must try to completely remove all mundane egotism from ourselves, but Mahāprabhu also explains that we must keep our spiritual ego. \"Jīvera svarūpa haya Kṛṣṇera nitya-dāsa: we will always consider ourselves to be Kṛṣṇa's eternal servants and maintain our transcendental connection with Him.\"\n\nThrough this process of self-realisation, Mahāprabhu taught us that we all need to go back to our home in the transcendental world where we can serve Kṛṣṇa and feel the happiness, joy, ecstatic mood, and blessings of His service. In addition He showed us that through chanting the Lord's Holy Name without offence our transcendental form, which we cannot see when we are bound by the illusory environment, will gradually be revealed in our heart. So Mahāprabhu has given us the perfect process for smashing our mundane ego and discovering our real ego, our eternal form as a servitor of Kṛṣṇa.\n\nMy main advice\n\nŚrīmad Bhāgavatam explained the four directives for isolating ourselves from the influence of Kali.\n\ndyūtaṁ pānaṁ striyaḥ sūnā yatrādharmaś chatur-vidhaḥ\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam: 1.17.38)\n\n\"Gambling, intoxication, illicit sex, and meat-eating are sinful activities and must be avoided.\"\n\nŚrīmad Bhāgavatam gave this advice. It is necessary for our practising life, but it is not a service; it is a regulation. Mahāprabhu's directive to be humble, be tolerant, and give honour to others is our service; it explains how we should practise our spiritual life. Without humility, tolerance, and giving honour to others no one will be successful in chanting the Lord's Holy Name, even if they follow the scriptural rules and regulations. Only following Mahāprabhu's directives for our practising life—to be humble, be tolerant, and give honour to others—will ensure that we are successful.\n\nI have tested this thousands of times, and it is completely sure. Almost every day I advise my friends and everyone I meet to follow this directive of Mahāprabhu. What I say may sound like a memorised set of English words, but it is not only that. With my heart I am saying it every day, and I am feeling it also. I want to see that everyone's practising life—their śravaṇ, kīrtan, and so on—continues happily in good association.\n\nIf there is anything I want to distribute to the Western world it is this, which is my first and best advice: \"Avoid the ten offences to the Holy Name and Vaiṣṇava-aparādh by practising Mahāprabhu's formula of being humble, being tolerant, and giving honour to others.\" This is my preaching and my practising life. I have received this consciousness from Śrīla Guru Mahārāj and Śrīla Swāmī Mahārāj, and I can see that it is completely necessary for everyone everywhere. Without humility, tolerance, and giving honour to others no one can maintain their devotional mood, and with these qualities everyone can proceed very easily to their spiritual destiny.\n\nPure devotion and divine mercy\n\nIn the first verse of His Śikṣāṣṭakam, Mahāprabhu explained the relationship between Kṛṣṇa, His Holy Name, and the jīva-soul. In His second verse He explained how powerful Kṛṣṇa and His Holy Name are, and also how much of an offender we are. In His third verse He gave us the remedy for our offensive condition, which can reveal to us the Holy Name's power and our relationship with Kṛṣṇa. Then in His fourth verse Mahāprabhu prayed,\n\nna dhanaṁ na janaṁ na sundarīṁ  \nkavitāṁ vā jagad-īśa kāmaye  \nmama janmani janmanīśvare  \nbhavatād bhaktir ahaitukī tvayi\n\n[\"O Lord, I do not desire wealth, followers, beautiful women, or liberation. I pray only for unconditional devotion to You birth after birth.\"]\n\nOnce someone enters into practising life by following Mahāprabhu's formula of chanting the Lord's Holy Name with a mood of humility, tolerance, and giving honour to others, then the only target and desire of their life becomes ahaitukī-bhakti, eternal devotion free from material motivations. A practitioner does not want any of his energy to be taken by offensive activity, and he desires that his full energy be engaged in service that pleases the Lord.\n\nWhen a practitioner has entered into exclusive devotional life in this way, he can understand Kṛṣṇa's position and see that his own position in the mundane world is an ugly, impious platform from which to serve the Lord. To express this mood of a practitioner, Mahāprabhu prays in the next verse of His Śikṣāṣṭakam,\n\nayi nanda-tanuja kiṅkaraṁ  \npatitaṁ māṁ viṣame bhavāmbudhau  \nkṛpayā tava pāda-paṅkaja-  \nsthita-dhūlī-sadṛśaṁ vichintaya\n\n(Śrī Śikṣāṣṭakam: 5)\n\n\"O Lord, I am Your eternal servant, but because of my misfortune I have fallen into this terrible ocean of birth and death. I pray that by Your causeless mercy You will accept me as Your own and I will be connected with You like a particle of dust on Your lotus feet.\"\n\nMahāprabhu's prayer to Kṛṣṇa means, \"If You give me Your merciful glance, I and everything I possess will become purified and useful for Your service. Sthita-dhūlī-sadṛśaṁ vichintaya: my existence will enter the transcendental service world, and I will be able to serve You purely there for Your satisfaction.\"\n\nIf the Lord will give even a little bit of His attention to a devotee then the devotee will be completely purified. As the sparking light of a match can remove one hundred years of darkness from a closed room, so everything can be cleaned and cleared from anyone's heart by the Lord's divine influence.\n\nPraying to chant without offence\n\nIn the sixth verse of His Śikṣāṣṭakam Mahāprabhu prays,\n\nnayanaṁ galad-aśru-dhārayā  \nvadanaṁ gadgada-ruddhayā girā  \npulakair nichitaṁ vapuḥ kadā  \ntava nāma-grahaṇe bhaviṣyati\n\n[\"O Lord, when will tears stream from my eyes, my voice falter, and the hair of my body stand on end as I call Your Name?\"]\n\nThese are the symptoms of a servant who purely serves the Lord and chants His Holy Name without offence. Mahāprabhu prays in this way to express His hankering to chant the Lord's Holy Name without offence.\n\nIf we can purely chant the Lord's Holy Name we will get His direct service and feel ecstatic joy in our life. Śrīmad Bhāgavatam concluded,\n\nnāma-saṅkīrtanaṁ yasya sarva-pāpa-praṇāśanam  \npraṇāmo duḥkha-śamanas taṁ namāmi hariṁ param\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam's last verse: 12.13.23)\n\n\"Nām-saṅkīrtan is supreme.\"\n\nBut Mahāprabhu commented,\n\ntāra madhye sarva-śreṣṭha nāma-saṅkīrtana  \nniraparādhe nāma laile pāya prema-dhana\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Antya-līlā, 4.71)\n\n\"Nām-saṅkīrtan is the supreme form of bhakti-yoga, but only if we chant the Lord's Holy Name without offence will Kṛṣṇa-prema appear in our hearts.\"\n\nThe Holy Name's purifying power\n\nMahāprabhu wants everyone to chant the Holy Name purely, without offence. Offences are very difficult to avoid and dangerous, but we must avoid them because they are our obstacle in chanting the Lord's Holy Name. Mahāprabhu shows us His mood of prayer to the Holy Name to help us attract the Holy Name's grace, which is what will truly free us from offences. With the proper mood of prayer and regular chanting, we can be hopeful that we can receive the Holy Name's grace.\n\nnāmāparādha-yuktānāṁ nāmāny eva haranty agham  \naviśrānti-prayuktāni tāny evārtha-karāṇi cha\n\n(Padma-purāṇa: Svarga-khaṇḍa, 48.49)\n\n\"When the Holy Name sees our heartfelt desire to try to chant Him purely, then He will be merciful to us; we will get the qualifications we need to chant properly, and all of our difficulties will go away by His grace.\"\n\nThis is Śrīla Jīva Goswāmī Prabhu's realisation from the scriptures: \"We cannot avoid making offences, but the Holy Name Himself will give us good nourishment and relieve us from our offences if we have love, affection, and a little connection with Him.\" This is the main thing. If our desire is heartfelt, then we must always continuously try to chant the Lord's Name. Continuous, attentive chanting will attract the grace of the Holy Name to mercifully clean our hearts, remove all our obstacles, and excuse our offences. Through His Śikṣāṣṭakam we can see that Mahāprabhu's first expression and teaching, cheto-darpaṇa-mārjanam, cleaning the mirror of the mind, comes by the grace of the Holy Name to the practitioner in the last stage.\n\nMahāprabhu's next prayer in His Śikṣāṣṭakam is:\n\nyugāyitaṁ nimeṣeṇa chakṣuṣā prāvṛṣāyitam  \nśūnyāyitaṁ jagat sarvaṁ govinda-viraheṇa me\n\n(Śrī Śikṣāṣṭakam: 7)\n\n[\"O Govinda! In separation from You a moment seems like forever, tears pour from my eyes, and the whole world feels empty.\"]\n\nWhen one chants the Holy Name purely then one's consciousness is purified (cheto-darpaṇa-mārjanam), and all the effects of the Holy Name Mahāprabhu described in His glorification of Hari-nām-saṅkīrtan—bhava-mahā-dāvāgni-nirvāpaṇam, and so on—appear in one's heart. Then, in pure Kṛṣṇa consciousness, one feels viraha, separation from the Lord, and thinks, \"I am chanting the Lord's Name but still I am not chanting in the proper way.\" One then desires to chant the Holy Name more and more purely.\n\nThe Lord of our heart\n\nMahāprabhu ends His Śikṣāṣṭakam with this prayer:\n\nāśliṣya vā pāda-ratāṁ pinaṣṭu mām  \nadarśanān marma-hatāṁ karotu vā  \nyathā tathā vā vidadhātu lampaṭo  \nmat-prāṇa-nāthas tu sa eva nāparaḥ\n\n(Śrī Śikṣāṣṭakam: 8)\n\n\"Kṛṣṇa may embrace me or break my heart by denying me His darśan. Kṛṣṇa the Gopa-vadhū-lampaṭ [enjoyer of the cowherd men's wives] may do whatever He likes; He will always be the Lord of my heart.\"\n\nWhen a servitor will enter into his service life with this type of mood he will have the mood of full dedication to the Lord. Different kinds of examinations, sometimes painful examinations, will come to him in his spiritual life, but he will not be able to leave the Lord's lotus feet. He will not see anything except the Lord's service and will not be able to leave the Lord's connection in any way; his only target will be Kṛṣṇa and His service.\n\nThe mood of Mahāprabhu's final expression is, \"Kṛṣṇa can do anything and everything with Me. He has full right over me. I will always be His servitor's servitor's servitor. I have no other ego or ideal.\" This verse also has a deep, a deeper, and a deepest meaning, and all of them will automatically be revealed in our hearts through our service mood. We will naturally be able to see, feel, and embrace those ideals when they are revealed to us.\n\nŚrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu did not write many verses or give many instructions. He simply gave the gist of all instructions in His Śikṣāṣṭakam. There is no way to proceed in our spiritual life or in our chanting of the Lord's Holy Names without following the directives of Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu given in His Śikṣāṣṭakam. Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu's Śikṣāṣṭakam is our life and soul. We will try until death to proceed according to its instructions and we must be benefitted to the utmost by that.\nChapter Sixteen   \nServing Under Proper Guidance\n\nQuestion: Mahārāj, when chanting the Hare Kṛṣṇa mahāmantra, how should we consider the position of Gurudev? Should we chant to please Guru? Should we chant because it pleases Guru? Should we pray to Guru to help us chant?\n\nŚrīla Govinda Mahārāj: We can understand the proper ideal for practitioners through the example of Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu. His example shows us the importance of both following the order of Gurudev to chant and satisfying him through our practice of chanting.\n\nMahāprabhu's bright and exalted form\n\nWhen Mahāprabhu was in Kashi [Varanasi] He came to the assembly of the māyāvādī sannyāsīs headed by Prakāśānanda Saraswatī. When He arrived He sat in the place where all the sannyāsīs would wash their feet before entering the assembly room. When Mahāprabhu arrived He washed His hands and feet, and then sat down in the washing area. While He was sitting there He also revealed His glory by showing a great effulgence from His divine form.\n\nprabhāve ākarṣila saba sannyāsīra mana  \nuṭhila sannyāsī saba chhāḍiyā āsana\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Ādi-līlā, 7.61)\n\nWhen all the sannyāsīs saw this effulgence, which appeared like that of Brahma, they were very attracted and surprised: \"Oh! He is as bright as the sun!\"\n\nPrakāśānanda Saraswatī was also surprised. Prakāśānanda Saraswatī had heard that Śrī Chaitanyadev had come to Kashi and was turning all the Kashi-vāsīs, the residents of Kashi, into Vaiṣṇavas. Prakāśānanda was very angry about this and had told all his disciples, \"Don't associate with that Chaitanya!\"\n\nWithout Prakāśānanda's knowledge, a brāhmaṇ had invited Mahāprabhu to his assembly. Mahāprabhu did not actually want to go there and join the company of the māyāvādīs, but He felt He needed to distribute His mercy to Prakāśānanda Saraswatī for the satisfaction of His devotees. For that purpose He went there.\n\nWhen Prakāśānanda saw Mahāprabhu's divine effulgence and then His divine form sitting in a dirty place, he was stunned and thought, \"Oh! How beautiful and attractive is the form of this boy!\" He could not stay in his chair. He got up and said to Mahāprabhu, \"Why are You sitting there? You are very nice-looking and Your form is very exalted. Please come inside. We are all gathered here. You are a sannyāsī of our sampradāya. You are a little young but You are very bright. Why are You sitting outside? Please come in and take a seat.\"\n\nMahāprabhu said, \"No, no, no. I am very insignificant and inferior. You are the sampradāya's guru and everyone here is a very great paṇḍit. I am not qualified to join you.\"\n\nWhen Prakāśānanda saw Mahāprabhu's great humility his mind softened. He took Mahāprabhu's hand and said, \"O Śrīpād! Please come inside and take a seat.\"\n\nAfter they came inside Prakāśānanda began to very affectionately question Mahāprabhu, \"I have heard Your name. I know that You are a great paṇḍit and that You are a sannyāsī of our sampradāya. You have taken sannyās from the line of Bhāratī. That is not a high-class line of sannyās. It is a middle class, but You are certainly a member of our sampradāya. Why don't You come to visit us? You should practise jñāna-yoga, read the Vedānta-darśana, and discuss it with us. That is the duty of a sannyāsī. You should regularly hear the Vedānta-darśana and preach Śaṅkar Āchārya's teachings. You do not do that. Why? We cannot understand why You only chant the Hare Kṛṣṇa mahāmantra and dance. You are always chanting, dancing, crying, and laughing. Why do You always show Yourself in this way? Why are You always simply performing saṅkīrtan?\"\n\nChant 'Hare Kṛṣṇa' and be happy\n\nMahāprabhu very humbly replied to Prakāśānanda Saraswatī, \"O sir, what can I say? My mind was not good when I took sannyās. I needed relief from the mundane environment; My mind went in a very renounced way, and I could not stay in the gṛhastha-āśram. I came to My Guru and prayed, 'Give Me sannyās.' Also, when I was initiated I asked, 'What is My duty?' My Guru said,\n\nmūrkha tumi, tomāra nāhika vedāntādhikāra  \n'kṛṣṇa-mantra' japa sadā,—ei mantra-sāra\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Ādi-līlā, 7.72)\n\n\"'You are foolish and unqualified. It is not necessary for You to read anything. You have no qualification to hear or read the Vedānta-darśana. You will not be able to understand its meanings. But You are coming to me for some advice, so I must tell You something. What can You do? You can do simply what is necessary in this Age of Kali:\n\nharer nāma harer nāma harer nāmaiva kevalam  \nkalau nāsty eva nāsty eva nāsty eva gatir anyathā\n\n(Bṛhan-Nāradīya-purāṇa)\n\n\"'No one can achieve liberation in this Age of Kali without chanting the Hare Kṛṣṇa mahāmantra. Chanting the Hare Kṛṣṇa mahāmantra is the only way to discover Your true nature and serve Kṛṣṇa eternally. If You can chant the Hare Kṛṣṇa mahāmantra without offence You will get a very good result. You will feel Kṛṣṇa-prema and get everything. Purely chanting the Hare Kṛṣṇa mahāmantra is the goal of human life. You have a renounced nature, and You have fortunately taken a human birth. So chant 'Hare Kṛṣṇa' and be happy. That is sufficient for You. It is not necessary for You to read the Vedānta-darśana or anything else.'\"\n\nDancing, chanting, crying, and roaring\n\nMahāprabhu continued His explanation to Prakāśānanda Saraswatī, \"Then on the order of My Guru I began chanting the Hare Kṛṣṇa mahāmantra. I did not know what I was doing, and I did not feel that I was chanting, or dancing, or crying. I was simply following the order of My Guru to chant the Hare Kṛṣṇa mahāmantra. For his satisfaction I was chanting. As I chanted in this way power came to Me from My Guru, and the Hare Kṛṣṇa mahāmantra automatically appeared in My heart. I felt the presence of Kṛṣṇa within Me, and I felt many different things about Kṛṣṇa. Kṛṣṇa began to dance in My heart and then dance upon My tongue in the form of the Hare Kṛṣṇa mahāmantra.\n\n\"I do not dance actually, or chant, or cry. From within My heart, Kṛṣṇa dances, and then His Name takes control of Me. You may see Me dancing, chanting, crying, roaring and doing so many things, but they are all the movements of Hari-nām. It is not actually My desire to do all these things. I am very shy to act in that way. But what can I do? I am following the order of My Guru Mahārāj. By his power this type of result is coming to Me and giving Me this type of mood.\n\n\"When this began happening to Me I thought I had become mad. I went back to My Gurudev and asked,\n\nkibā mantra dilā, go̐sāñi, kibā tāra bala  \njapite japite mantra karila pāgala\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Ādi-līlā, 7.81)\n\n\"'What kind of mantram have you given Me? I did not know how powerful this mantram was. When I chant it I become like a madman.'\n\n\"My Gurudev replied, 'This is the actual result of chanting the Hare Kṛṣṇa mahāmantra. All mundanity stops if You chant this mantram properly. You are very fortunate that You have become filled with such transcendental knowledge and the full ecstasy of Kṛṣṇa.'\n\n\"My Gurudev encouraged Me in this way and also told Me to try to spread this consciousness to others. So what can I say?\n\nnāma nāche jīva nāche nāche prema dhana  \njagata nāchāya māyā kare palāyana\n\n(Hari-nāma-chintāmaṇi: 1.2.58)\n\n\"'When someone chants the Hare Kṛṣṇa mahāmantra without offence Kṛṣṇa will dance in their heart and then upon their tongue.'\"\n\n\"When I began to follow the order of My Gurudev the Divine Name of Kṛṣṇa began dancing within My heart. As I continue to chant and dance by the will of Hari-nām whoever hears that dance of Kṛṣṇa in the form of sound vibration from My tongue also begins to dance. Then Kṛṣṇa enters their hearts and begins dancing there. And not only this, the wealth of Kṛṣṇa-prema that appears in everyone's heart, that prema-dhana, also dances. I Myself do not know anything, but I am seeing that now the whole world has automatically begun dancing with Me by the will of Hari-nām and the wave of Kṛṣṇa-prema. Hari-nām has begun dancing and chanting from within My heart and automatically the attention of everyone's mind has been overcome by that dancing movement. I am simply following the order of My Gurudev and all of this is happening. I do not actually know what is what.\"\n\nThe power of Brahma\n\nMahāprabhu expressed Himself in the assembly of sannyāsīs to Prakāśānanda Saraswatī in this way. Then Prakāśānanda argued, \"Yes. This is good. But you must hear Vedānta-darśana.\"\n\nMahāprabhu humbly replied, \"Yes sir. You are master. You can read it, and I will hear from you.\"\n\nPrakāśānanda began to speak about the Vedānta-darśana, and while he spoke Mahāprabhu did not say anything. Finally Prakāśānanda asked, \"Can You understand anything I am saying?\"\n\nMahāprabhu replied, \"By the mercy of My Gurudev I can understand the meanings of the sūtras from the Vedānta-darśana that you are reading. But I cannot understand the commentary you are giving.\"\n\nPrakāśānanda said, \"What? You cannot understand my commentary?\"\n\nMahāprabhu said, \"No. I cannot understand, that is, I think what you are saying is wrong.\"\n\nPrakāśānanda began to debate, \"Why? Why do You think it is wrong?\"\n\nMahāprabhu said, \"You are saying that the final attainment given in the Vedānta-darśana is nirākār, nirviśeṣ Brahma—formless, impersonal Brahma. But this is not true. I feel in My heart that Brahma has power, form, and beauty. And not only do I feel this in My heart; everyone who mixes with Me also feels it. So I must conclude that Brahma has a divine form and divine qualities. I also think that if Kṛṣṇa is merciful to you, then you will feel it also.\"\n\nIn this way Mahāprabhu expressed His heart and through that explained to Prakāśānanda Saraswatī how Śaṅkar Āchārya's interpretation of the Vedānta-darśana is wrong. After this Prakāśānanda was defeated. He held his tongue and the debate was finished. Even though he was defeated by Mahāprabhu, after the debate was finished, Prakāśānanda thought, \"Oh! Mahāprabhu, how humble He is.\"\n\n\"Why am I sitting on this throne?\"\n\nThe meeting of Mahāprabhu and Prakāśānanda Saraswatī passed in this way. Another day Prakāśānanda saw Śrī Chaitanyadev going to take His bath in the Ganges. Mahāprabhu was dancing on His way, chanting Hare Kṛṣṇa with a crowd of people dancing along behind Him. Prakāśānanda was stunned to see Mahāprabhu's saṅkīrtan. From far away Prakāśānanda saw Mahāprabhu dancing in Kṛṣṇa-prema with so many pious souls in saṅkīrtan in the middle of the road. He was very attracted, and thought, \"Oh! I need this actually! What have I been doing my whole life? I have been a sampradāya guru for so long, but I see now that I need what this young man has. He is following His Guru's order and has become intoxicated with a mood of divine ecstasy. He dances and chants the Hare Kṛṣṇa mahāmantra as tears pour from His eyes. His whole body trembles and He perspires. All ecstatic symptoms appear in His body. He is so happy and joyful. What am I doing sitting in the chair of an āchārya?\"\n\nThe supreme wealth\n\nAfter seeing Mahāprabhu's divine form in saṅkīrtan Prakāśānanda was heavily convinced that he could not remain in his position. Prakāśānanda thought that he would talk to Chaitanyadev when he saw the Lord again. Later when he saw Mahāprabhu coming down the road again chanting in a dancing mood, Prakāśānanda fell at Mahāprabhu's lotus feet and took Mahāprabhu's foot dust on his head. He said, \"Oh! I am very foolish. You have everything and I have nothing. All ecstasy, joy, and happiness abide in Your body, and Your eyes show that. I have been practising jñāna-yoga for so long, but what have I got? Nothing. I have got nothing. I need Your mercy. You are the embodiment of Hari-nām-saṅkīrtan. You must be that, otherwise my mind could not have been attracted to You. And You must be Kṛṣṇa. You are distributing Kṛṣṇa consciousness to everyone, and it is not possible for anyone to do this except Kṛṣṇa Himself. Only Kṛṣṇa has the power to do that, so You must be nondifferent from Kṛṣṇa.\" In this way Prakāśānanda took shelter at the lotus feet of Mahāprabhu.\n\nMahāprabhu said, \"What are you doing? You are a sampradāya guru.\"\n\nPrakāśānanda prayed, \"Prabhu, please do not cheat me now. I feel it is necessary to surrender to You, and I feel You are distributing the supreme wealth to all jīva-souls. Please do not deceive me now.\"\n\nInconceivable conversion\n\nThere is a verse of Śrīla Bilvamaṅgal Ṭhākur which expresses the heart of Prakāśānanda Saraswatī at this time:\n\nadvaita-vīthī-pathikair upāsyāḥ  \nsvānanda-siṁhāsana-labdha-dīkṣāḥ  \nśaṭhena kenāpi vayaṁ haṭhena  \ndāsī-kṛtā gopa-vadhū-viṭena\n\n(Śrīla Bilvamaṅgal Ṭhākur)\n\n\"I was a Brahma-jñānī, and I was following the conception of so 'ham: 'I am Brahma.' No one could defeat me or convince me of anything otherwise. I was happily situated with full regard in the conception of advaita-mārg [monism]. I was the worshipped headmaster of advaita-mārg, the guru of the sampradāya. I held the highest chair, and I sat on my throne in great satisfaction. But then all of a sudden Kṛṣṇa, the Gopa-vadhū-lampaṭ (cunning playful cowherd boy) attracted my mind with His qualities, beauty, glory, and love. By attracting my mind (śaṭhena) He tricked me and made me His maidservant. Kṛṣṇa is so merciful that He forcibly took my heart and engaged it in the service of the gopīs. He has not only made me His maidservant; He has captured my heart with His divine Pastimes and made me fall flat on the ground.\"\n\nThis is Bilvamaṅgal Ṭhākur's heart expression, and Prakāśānanda Saraswatī's heart expression is very similar: \"Suddenly Chaitanya Mahāprabhu came to Kashi and attracted my mind. He smashed my advaita (monistic) conception and made me His servant.\"\n\nIt is greatly inconceivable to think that Prakāśānanda Saraswatī was transformed by Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu in this way, but already it has happened. Prakāśānanda Saraswatī clasped the lotus feet of Mahāprabhu and apologised: \"I have made a great offence to You. You are doing what is actually necessary for everyone. Please give Your Hari-nām to me.\" In this way Prakāśānanda Saraswatī re-took initiation (dīkṣā) from Chaitanya Mahāprabhu.\n\nThrough this example we can understand that it is not necessary to read the Vedānta or the Vedas or anything, and that it is not necessary to imagine or focus on anything external. In Kali-yuga it is only necessary to chant Hare Kṛṣṇa without offence under the guidance of our Gurudev. The proper and best ideal for everyone is to follow the order given by our Gurudev. We may not know how much we will be able to do that, but with our full energy—heart and soul—we must try. If we can proceed in that way without offence a good result will come to us. There is no doubt.\n\nService beyond surrender\n\nIn His conversation with Rāmānanda Rāy in Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu rejected the famous verse from Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā (18.66): sarva-dharmān parityajya Mām ekaṁ śaraṇaṁ vraja. In Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā Kṛṣṇa explained to Arjuna many things on the battlefield of Kurukṣetra. For our benefit He explained karma-yoga, jñāna-yoga, abhyāsa-yoga, bhakti-yoga, and so on. Then at the conclusion of Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā Kṛṣṇa said,\n\nsarva-dharmān parityajya mām ekaṁ śaraṇaṁ vraja  \nahaṁ tvāṁ sarva-pāpebhyo mokṣayiṣyāmi mā śuchaḥ\n\n(Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā: 18.66)\n\n\"You must avoid non-religion, and religion also. Exclusively take shelter at My lotus feet. If any sinful reactions come to you I will take care of them. Have no fear.\"\n\nThis is the first and main task of our spiritual life. If we can take shelter at Kṛṣṇa's lotus feet then Kṛṣṇa will fully take our charge. Everyone generally thinks that this is the supreme, conclusive verse of Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā. But when Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu summarily rejects this verse, we are confused. Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu asked Rāmānanda Rāy about the ultimate goal of life, and step by step Rāmānanda Rāy offered progressive conclusions: varṇāśram-dharma, karma-miśra-bhakti, jñāna-miśrā-bhakti, yoga-miśra-bhakti, and so on. Mahāprabhu summarily rejected them all, including this celebrated verse of Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā, sarva-dharmān parityajya. Who can explain the cause of this? Only an expert like Śrīla Guru Mahārāj. I once asked Śrīla Guru Mahārāj, \"Why did Mahāprabhu summarily reject this verse?\"\n\nŚrīla Guru Mahārāj explained, \"This verse advises one to take shelter at Kṛṣṇa's lotus feet. Up to this point it is very nice advice, but what will one do once one has surrendered at Kṛṣṇa's lotus feet? That is not explained in this verse. Mahāprabhu taught exclusive devotion—surrendered life with service—but in this verse of Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā there is no explanation of how to lead a life of service. For that reason Mahāprabhu rejected it.\"\n\nSurrendered and alive with mercy\n\nLater in their conversation Rāmānanda Rāy presented another verse to Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu which offered an explanation of how one can begin to actively lead a life of surrendered service to Kṛṣṇa:\n\njñāne prayāsam udapāsya namanta eva  \njīvanti san-mukharitāṁ bhavadīya-vārtām  \nsthāne sthitāḥ śruti-gatāṁ tanu-vāṅ-manobhir  \nye prāyaśo 'jita jito 'py asi tais tri-lokyām\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam: 10.14.3)\n\nThis verse explains, \"Throw away whatever knowledge you have acquired prior to surrendering! Jñāne prayāsam udapāsya! Your mundane knowledge has no place in the plane of transcendental devotion. A surrendered soul should throw out not only his previous knowledge but also all attempts for acquiring any further mundane knowledge. Then he can submit himself fully and live a life of real devotion. This is the vital point, 'Namanta eva jīvanti: be surrendered and alive with mercy. Fully surrender to Kṛṣṇa and chant His Holy Name.'\n\n\"Sthāne sthitāḥ śruti-gatāṁ tanu-vāṅ-manobhir: you can stay in the jungle, or a house, or an ashram or the ocean, or anywhere; that is not a problem. Anywhere at any moment you can engage yourself physically, mentally, and verbally in Lord Kṛṣṇa's service. This means chanting the Lord's Holy Name, and through that ye prāyaśo 'jita jito 'py asi tais tri-lokyām: the Lord Himself will be attracted and bestow His mercy upon you.\n\n\"But san-mukharitāṁ bhavadīya-vārtām: the source of your spiritual connection with Kṛṣṇa and your practice of service to Him is the satām (sādhu), and without the sādhu's connection you cannot connect with Kṛṣṇa, satisfy Kṛṣṇa, or fully attract His mercy. What you hear from the pure devotee, the sādhu, is the food with which you are alive in Kṛṣṇa consciousness; what you receive from the sādhu is your very spiritual existence.\"\n\nNectar spilling everywhere\n\nŚrīla Guru Mahārāj composed a verse that beautifully explains how we connect with the Lord and His service through the sādhu. This verse is the dearest and highest verse for me in life. Still so much light comes to me from this verse, and with that I am fully satisfied.\n\nśrī-śrīmad-bhagavat-padāmbuja-madhu-svādotsavaiḥ ṣaṭ-padair  \nnikṣiptā madhu-bindavaś cha parito bhraṣṭa mukhāt guñjitaiḥ  \nyatnaiḥ kiñchid ihāhṛtāṁ nija-para-śreyo 'rthinā tan mayā  \nbhūyo-bhūya ito rajaṁsi pada-saṁlagnāni teṣaṁ bhaje\n\n(Śrī Śrī Prapanna-jīvanāmṛtam: 10.14)\n\nWhen Śrīla Guru Mahārāj composed and finished his Prapanna-jīvanāmṛtam he wrote this verse confessing, \"What I have presented in Prapanna-jīvanāmṛtam is not my own property. I have actually only collected this ecstatic property from the devotees.\"\n\nHis expression is: \"The super devotees are like bees always tasting the ecstatic, honey-like nectar of the lotus feet of Bhagavān Śrī Kṛṣṇa, who is the cause of all causes (sarva-kāraṇa-kāraṇam), the Supreme Controller (Parameśvar), the origin who has no origin (anādi-ādiḥ). As a lotus is always full of nectar, so bee-like devotees are always collecting the nectar from the unlimited ocean of nectar that is the Lord's lotus feet and tasting that through their super mood of devotion. As they taste that nectar they sing the glories of that nectar and their Master, Lord Kṛṣṇa.\n\n\"If anyone tastes honey and sings at the same time, then naturally a few drops of honey must fall down from his mouth as remnants. Devotees who ecstatically glorify their Lord—who are always drinking, and drinking, and drinking, and intoxicatedly glorifying their Lord—always spill many drops of nectar from their mouths in all directions as they dance and sing.\n\n\"Here in this book, Prapanna-jīvanāmṛtam, I have collected those many drops of eternal, transcendental ecstasy that are falling from the mouths of the Lord's devotees as their mercy. For both myself and you all I have collected those falling drops of nectar and made a plate for everyone to taste that nectar and be supremely benefitted. I am so grateful and indebted to all the devotees who glorify their Lord and taste the nectar of His lotus feet that here at the conclusion of my work, Prapanna-jīvanāmṛtam, I now bow down to all of them again and again. Bhūyo-bhūya ito rajaṁsi pada-saṁlagnāni teṣaṁ bhaje: again and again I glorify the lotus feet of all of these devotees: the devotees who collect nectar directly from the Lord's lotus feet, the devotees who drink the nectar collected from the Lord's lotus feet, the devotees who catch and distribute the drops of nectar which fall from the mouths of the devotees drinking the nectar collected from the Lord's lotus feet, and the devotees who accept that nectar which is offered to them after it has been collected, tasted, dropped, caught, and distributed. I take upon my head the dust of the feet of all of these sincere devotees, whose hearts are filled with divine hankering.\"\n\nIn this way Śrīla Guru Mahārāj finished his composition Śrī Śrī Prapanna-jīvanāmṛtam. More explanation of this verse is possible, but shortly I have explained something. Through this you can understand the explanation of śaraṇāgati that Śrīla Guru Mahārāj has given in his book, as well as the conclusion of Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu in His conversation with Rāmānanda Rāy: jīvanti san-mukharitāṁ bhavadīya-vārtām (SB:10.14.3), surrendered devotional life means living on the remnants of the devotees who live on the Lord's remnants, living on the mercy of the devotees who live on the mercy they receive from the Lord.\n\nSatisfying Kṛṣṇa's devotees\n\nThe Lord's devotees are not only worshippable; they are most worthy of our service. Lord Śiva has explained the significance of serving the Lord's devotees.\n\nārādhanānāṁ sarveṣāṁ viṣṇor ārādhanaṁ param  \ntasmāt parataraṁ devi tadīyānāṁ samarchanam\n\n(Padma-purāṇa)\n\nOnce Parvatī Devī asked her Lord, \"Who is supremely worshippable?\"\n\nLord Śiva said, \"Viṣṇu is supremely worshippable. What question is there about that?\"\n\nParvatī Devī thought, \"I am not worshipping Lord Viṣṇu, I am serving my Lord, Śiva.\" A little doubt came to her, \"Is what I am doing right or wrong?\"\n\nLord Śiva saw her face and said, \"I am not saying I am a devotee of Viṣṇu, but that is actually who I am. So you have nothing to fear.\"\n\nParvatī Devī thought, \"My Lord, Śiva, is undoubtedly worshipping Viṣṇu. I am worshipping him. So that is the best for me.\"\n\nTasmāt parataraṁ Devi Tadīyānāṁ samarchanam: Lord Śiva's expression was, \"Satisfying Viṣṇu's devotees is even better than worshipping Viṣṇu Himself.\"\n\nKṛṣṇa personally explains that service to His devotees is the best way to serve Him:\n\nye me bhakta-janāḥ pārtha na me bhaktāś cha te janāḥ  \nmad-bhaktānāṁ cha ye bhaktās te me bhakta-tamā matāḥ\n\n(Ādi-purāṇa)\n\nKṛṣṇa says, \"I do not consider someone who thinks, 'I am Kṛṣṇa's devotee' to really be My devotee. He is My devotee, but I do not consider him so much. I consider someone who is a devotee of My devotee to be My real devotee.\"\n\nŚrīla Guru Mahārāj very nicely explained Kṛṣṇa's mood in this verse. Kṛṣṇa's feeling is, \"The flow of My mercy is always going everywhere to all of My devotees, but My devotees are constantly serving Me twenty-four hours a day and never giving Me a chance to worship or satisfy them. I always feel I am indebted to My devotees for their loving service, and when I do not get a chance to serve them I feel hopeless. When I see My devotees' devotee serving My devotees I specially bestow My mercy upon them, and in that way I am able to serve My devotees.\n\n\"I also consider the service of My devotees' devotee most valuable; the conditioned souls are suffering so much in the material world, and My devotees' devotees try to collect those suffering souls and engage them in My service through their Gurudev, My devotee. I am always sad to see the conditioned souls' sadness, and I am eager to serve My devotee. So I am especially interested in bestowing My mercy upon My devotees' devotees, to nourish them in their distribution of the service of My devotee. That dispels all the suffering of the conditioned souls and satisfies My own desire to satisfy My devotees.\"\n\nIn this way we can understand that serving Kṛṣṇa's devotees is the best way to serve, and that our service to Kṛṣṇa's devotees easily reaches Kṛṣṇa. If we are real worshippers of Kṛṣṇa, then we must try to satisfy Kṛṣṇa by serving His devotees.\n\nThe key to revelation\n\nDevotee: Gurudev, what do you expect from me as your disciple?\n\nŚrīla Govinda Mahārāj: As possible by you, always chant the Hare Kṛṣṇa mahāmantra without offence and try to serve Śrī Śrī Guru Gaurāṅga Gāndharvikā Giridhārī. If you have the opportunity to serve Them, do not waste that. Always remember your spiritual life by practising the nine forms of bhakti-yoga given in Śrīmad Bhāgavatam,\n\nśravaṇaṁ kīrtanaṁ viṣṇoḥ smaraṇaṁ pāda-sevanam  \narchanaṁ vandanaṁ dāsyaṁ sakhyam ātma-nivedanam\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam 7.5.23)\n\nAmong these, the process of śravaṇ-kīrtan is best: hear from Guru–Vaiṣṇava and chant the glories of Guru–Vaiṣṇava, the Lord, and the Hare Kṛṣṇa mahāmantra. Serve your Gurudev and your Śikṣā-gurus, the Vaiṣṇavas around you. If you proceed in that way you must be benefitted. Śravaṇa-kīrtana-jale karaye sechana (Cc: Madhya, 19.152): śravaṇ-kīrtan in the association of the devotees will best nourish us. If we hear and chant the Lord's glories in the association of the sādhus, the illusory environment will not be able to attack us. But we must hear from a proper Vaiṣṇava and chant without making Vaiṣṇava-aparādh. If we can proceed in that way with good association the result of our practice will increase ten times more, or maybe a hundred times more.\n\nOur practice in devotional life is always under the instruction of Śrīman Mahāprabhu and Śrīla Bhakti Siddhānta Saraswatī Ṭhākur. Sometimes there is a little difference between Śrīla Bhakti Vinod Ṭhākur and Śrīla Saraswatī Ṭhākur, but Śrīla Guru Mahārāj gave us our method according to Śrīla Saraswatī Ṭhākur's line. We follow that. What method others may follow I cannot say, but we follow the method given by our Guru Mahārāj.\n\nataḥ śrī-kṛṣṇa-nāmādi na bhaved grāhyam indriyaiḥ  \nsevonmukhe hi jihvādau svayam eva sphuraty adaḥ\n\n(Śrī Bhakti-rasāmṛta-sindhu: Pūrva-vibhāga, 2.234)\n\n\"Kṛṣṇa's Name, Form, Qualities, and Pastimes cannot be grasped by our mundane senses, but They can be revealed to us through our service attitude.\"\n\nIn this verse we find the key to Śrīla Saraswatī Ṭhākur's method, which Śrīla Guru Mahārāj followed and I am the example and witness to. Prabhupād Śrīla Saraswatī Ṭhākur gave us the line that a service attitude (sevonmukhe) means the service of Guru–Vaiṣṇava. His line is that Kṛṣṇa's Divine Name and so on will be revealed in your heart (svayam eva sphuraty adaḥ) through the service of Guru and Vaiṣṇava. Many Vaiṣṇavas may read many śāstras and follow many different religious processes in their life, but our line is that nothing is necessary except a life of service to Kṛṣṇa under the guidance of a proper Guru and Vaiṣṇava. We need only to try to practise Kṛṣṇa consciousness heart and soul under the guidance of a proper Guru or Vaiṣṇava. In that way we will proceed to our destiny in the plane of dedication, beyond the planes of exploitation and renunciation. Serving under the guidance of Guru–Vaiṣṇava brings us into that plane of dedication.\n\nsadyo hṛdy avarudhyate 'tra kṛtibhiḥ śuśrūṣubhis tat-kṣaṇāt\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam: 1.1.2)\n\nThrough surrender to Kṛṣṇa's devotee gradually all property will come to us. Very easily and very suddenly all spiritual quality and qualification, which is very rare to receive, will appear in your heart. The Śrīmad Bhāgavatam (10.80.34) says, \"Guru-śuśrūṣayā yathā: service to Guru–Vaiṣṇava is our line of progress.\" When we have the proper mood of surrender then we will engage in the practices of devotion under the guidance of a proper sādhu.\n\nConnecting with the pure flow\n\nAtaḥ Śrī-Kṛṣṇa-Nāmādi na bhaved grāhyam indriyaiḥ: we cannot see Kṛṣṇa's divine form or hear His Divine Name. If we try to go to Kṛṣṇa directly, overstepping the sādhu, we will never see Kṛṣṇa's real form. We will only go down into the garbage of illusion (sahajiyāism) again and again. It is necessary to understand what the Holy Name of Kṛṣṇa is, and what it is not, if we actually want to chant the Holy Name. From our mundane position we do not understand Kṛṣṇa, but He can reveal Himself in our heart if we try to connect with Him with love, affection, chastity, and sincerity through the proper channel of His devotee.\n\nThe Holy Name appears in this world as the transcendental vibration form of the Lord, and that transcendental vibration appears through the channel of Guru-paramparā, through the heart of the Sādhu–Vaiṣṇava. Only a pure mood of devotion can inspire the Holy Name to descend, so if we connect ourselves with a devoted servitor of the Lord who has the pure mood of chanting, we can also come into connection with the Lord's Holy Name.\n\nIf we can receive the Holy Name from our Gurudev and remember the mood and process in which our Gurudev and the great Vaiṣṇavas chanted the Holy Name, then the Holy Name will gradually reveal Himself in our hearts. On our own we are not qualified to chant the Hare Kṛṣṇa mahāmantra, but through the connection, inspiration, and guidance of the sādhu the mood and qualification to perfectly chant the Holy Name will come to us.\n\nProper conception\n\nŚrīla Gaura Kiśor Dās Bābājī Mahārāj was a very highly elevated sādhu with a very renounced mentality. He was always deeply connected with the Lord's eternal Pastimes in the transcendental world and feeling separation from Kṛṣṇa. He lived in isolation from society and sometimes would call out to the Lord spontaneously. He was a pure Vaiṣṇava who chanted the pure Holy Name.\n\nOnce someone heard the glories of Bābājī Mahārāj and began to imitate him. That person built a hut near Bābājī Mahārāj and began copying the practices and activities of Bābājī Mahārāj. When Bābājī Mahārāj heard of this he said that this man should not become an imitationist. He said to him, \"You are chanting the Lord's Name and living in a hut, but you are not really chanting to please the Lord. You are seeking name and fame (pratiṣṭhā) in this world. You are trying to become famous as a perfected saintly person (siddha-mahāpuruṣ), and for that purpose you are chanting and showing yourself in this way. Your activities will neither be successful nor give you proper devotional results.\n\n\"If an unmarried woman goes to a labour room to produce a child and shows so many symptoms of giving birth, will a child be born? Never! First a woman is married, then she mixes with her husband, then she becomes pregnant, then a baby begins to grow in her womb, and then, after two hundred and eighty days, she will produce a child. When the time comes for the woman to give birth it will not be necessary to tell her, 'Now you should go to the labour room.' Like an unmarried woman going to a labour room you have foolishly moved into a hut and begun to show to others that you are chanting, 'Hare Kṛṣṇa Hare Kṛṣṇa Hare Kṛṣṇa'. You may show many symptoms of ecstasy or renunciation, but your activities will not produce anything real. You don't have any real connection with Kṛṣṇa or Kṛṣṇa-nām: you have not served any of Kṛṣṇa's devotees or understood their devotional mood of chanting. You are only pursuing your mundane fame.\"\n\nThis is a very hard but also very clear example for us. If we are sincere and actually want to satisfy Kṛṣṇa through our devotional life, then we will always try to serve Him under the guidance of our Gurudev in the association of sādhus.\n\nFollowing versus imitating\n\nWe must approach Kṛṣṇa and chant His Holy Name in the proper channel. There is a systematic way for us to proceed in our spiritual life:\n\nādau śraddhā tataḥ sādhu-saṅgo 'tha bhajana-kriyā  \ntato 'nartha-nivṛttiḥ syāt tato niṣṭhā ruchis tataḥ\n\n(Śrī Bhakti-rasāmṛta-sindhu: Pūrva-vibhāga, 4.15)\n\nFirst firm faith in Kṛṣṇa consciousness (śraddhā) is necessary. Through our sincerity and śraddhā we will get the association of a proper sādhu, not an imitation sādhu. If we do not serve a real Guru or a real Vaiṣṇava we will be cheated sometimes. A real sādhu serves Kṛṣṇa twenty-four hours a day, and through a real sādhu's association our faith, service attitude, and devotional property will increase. We will be inspired by the sādhu to serve Kṛṣṇa twenty-four hours a day. But Śrīmad Bhāgavatam instructs us that we should not immediately serve the Lord in the same way that the sādhu does:\n\nīśvarāṇāṁ vachaḥ satyaṁ tathaivācharitaṁ kvachit  \nteṣāṁ yat sva-vacho-yuktaṁ buddhimāṁs tat samācharet\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam: 10.33.31)\n\n\"Do not imitate what the sādhu does. A sādhu may do something that is helpful for someone in a higher stage but not helpful for someone in a lower stage. Sādhu-saṅga means trying to practise our spiritual life under the guidance of a sādhu. Sādhu-saṅga means following the instructions given by the sādhu, not imitating the sādhu's behaviour.\"\n\nLove and affection\n\nIf someone can properly follow the sādhu's instructions and proceed under the sādhu's guidance, then they will be engaged in bhajana-kriyā, real spiritual practising life. Through proper bhajana-kriyā we will come to the stage of anartha-nivṛtti, the removal of our unwanted habits. In the stage of anartha-nivṛtti our hankering for mundane things will leave us, our senses will become controlled, and our conditioned nature will be removed. Anartha-nivṛtti will not happen, however, unless we proceed in our bhajana-kriyā with strong faith, love, and affection.\n\nFor anartha-nivṛtti to come to us, love and affection for other practitioners is necessary. Practising life is 'suffering life'—practising life is not an easy life. If we do not have love and affection for other practitioners it will be too painful and we will not be able to proceed successfully. Why should we suffer more than we already are in this mundane world? We should be humble, be tolerant, give honour to others, and make everyone our friend. In this way we can proceed happily in our practising life. Someone may come and abuse us, \"Oh! You are Vaiṣṇavas. You are very bad. You are doing this and that.\" But we will not be influenced by their comments if we have love and affection for our practising life and other practitioners. Someone may make comments, but we will proceed systematically through sincere and chaste service with love and affection.\n\nBeyond māyā's jurisdiction\n\nIf we engage in our spiritual practices of chanting the Holy Name, serving the sādhus, cleaning the temple, doing parikramā of the temple, and so on, with the desire to fulfil the instructions of our guardians—Sādhu, Guru, and Vaiṣṇava—with love, affection, and faith, then anartha-nivṛtti will automatically come to us. That is real exclusive devotional practice. Thereafter the stages of niṣṭhā (firm service), and ruchi (taste) will come to us.\n\nUntil the stage of ruchi no one is in a safe position; there is still possibility of falling down. During the stage of bhajana-kriyā we cannot say someone is really qualified. And even after the stage of anartha-nivṛtti, when material attachment has gone, we are still bound by the reactions to our previous sinful activities. Only when ruchi comes is everything cleared. Māyā thinks, \"Aho! I must run away. He is not under my jurisdiction.\" When ruchi, loving attachment for the Lord's service, comes into our heart, then we will be safe.\n\nraso 'py asya paraṁ dṛṣṭvā nivartate\n\n(Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā: 2.59)\n\nWhen we come to the stage of ruchi we will feel, \"Oh! This is very beautiful and without this I cannot live.\" When such taste will come to us we will be fully situated in devotion. Then all the auspicious symptoms of bhāva, prīti, prema, and so on will gradually appear in our heart.\n\nIn this way we understand the teachings of our Guru Mahārāj and Śrīla Saraswatī Ṭhākur: \"Serve Kṛṣṇa, serve Guru, serve the Vaiṣṇava, and serve the Mission of our Gurudev. Gurudev gives us service that is satisfying to Kṛṣṇa, and Kṛṣṇa is satisfied when we serve Guru–Vaiṣṇava.\"\n\nEmotion and devotion\n\nQuestion: Can you please explain how we can avoid confusing emotion with devotion?\n\nŚrīla Govinda Mahārāj: Sometimes we are practising and serving emotionally. That means we are blindly following our mind's idea of what is good and bad. Sometimes our mind tells us something is good and we follow that idea of our mind. Acting in that way we do many things emotionally, but those activities may only be śubha-karma (pious acts). They will not be actual devotion.\n\nŚrīla Guru Mahārāj gave an example: Gurudev may perform pūjā and order us, \"Bring some water.\" We will then bring some water to Gurudev, but Gurudev may suddenly change his order and say, \"Oh, water is not necessary now. Bring some flowers.\"\n\nIf we say to Gurudev, \"You ordered me to bring some water. I have followed your order to bring you water\" and we give Gurudev that water, then our action will be śubha-karma. It will not be devotion (bhakti).\n\nWith primary enthusiasm we may want to do more and more service to Guru–Vaiṣṇava. But in the primary stage we won't be attentive to see whether our service is appropriate, to see whether it is actually pleasing to Guru–Vaiṣṇava, to see whether it is what they actually want. In the primary stage we do not consider these things and only think that our own activity will take us to a higher position. We do not consider how and why the advice of Guru–Vaiṣṇava is coming to us.\n\nActual devotion means trying to satisfy Guru–Vaiṣṇava according to their instructions. A proper and attentive mood of devotion is to always keep our eyes open to see if what we are doing is really satisfying to our Master or not. Gurudev has told us, \"Chant Hare Kṛṣṇa.\" But if I am in a place where Gurudev is discussing something important with some Vaiṣṇavas, and I begin making noise, \"Hare Kṛṣṇa Hare Kṛṣṇa, Kṛṣṇa Kṛṣṇa Hare Hare, Hare Rāma Hare Rāma, Rāma Rāma Hare Hare\" then that is not chanting in a mood of devotion. Devotional mood means considering whether Gurudev is happy or not with our activity. It is true that Gurudev has ordered us, \"Chant Hare Kṛṣṇa loudly\", but it is always necessary to consider the place, time, and circumstances, and then wisely try to do service. This is devotion.\n\nHeart-melting association\n\nA proper Guru or Vaiṣṇava has no self-interest or self-satisfying tendency. Such a real devotee has no interest in being served. Rather he is always engaged in Kṛṣṇa's service. If we follow the service-order and guidance of a proper Vaiṣṇava to engage in service of Kṛṣṇa or His devotees, then our action will enter the category of devotion through that proper Vaiṣṇava's qualification. Devotion begins by offering ourselves to Kṛṣṇa by taking a vow that we will not do anything that is not in service to Kṛṣṇa. But Kṛṣṇa is transcendental, and we cannot offer anything to Him directly. We do not have that capacity or qualification. We must offer our service to Kṛṣṇa through Guru–Vaiṣṇava—through the devotees who have the capacity to directly serve Kṛṣṇa. When you serve Kṛṣṇa under their guidance all responsibility for Kṛṣṇa's service goes to them, and all the proper results of service come to you. Kṛṣṇa knows you are serving Guru–Vaiṣṇava for His satisfaction, not for their personal interest, so Kṛṣṇa must be satisfied with you.\n\nSometimes we may be going on in our practising life but feel that we are not progressing. We may be engaged in service and chanting the Lord's Holy Name but feel that our faith is not becoming stronger, joy is not coming into our heart, and our mind is not becoming fulfilled by our devotional mood. At that time we must try to get the association of a good Vaiṣṇava. We must search for a real practitioner who is practising Kṛṣṇa consciousness twenty-four hours a day and get his association.\n\ndadāti pratigṛhṇāti guhyam ākhyāti pṛchchhati  \nbhuṅkte bhojayate chaiva ṣaḍ-vidhaṁ prīti-lakṣaṇam\n\n(Śrī Upadeśāmṛta: 4)\n\nSādhu-saṅga means associating with the sādhu like he is our own relative, associating with him in an affectionate, regardful way. This means giving him gifts (materials for service), feeding him, asking him questions, taking his advice, and so on. Through this type of affectionate association with the sādhu we will be able to understand and feel why we are not inspired in our practising life. If there is any offensive mood within us, the good association of the sādhu will wash it away. The association of a great sādhu can melt our hard heart and inspire us with a mood of real dedication. When we see the sādhu engaged in the Lord's service twenty-four hours a day, our hearts will become joyful. We will feel much inspiration to follow him and connect with the devotional plane ourselves.\n\nsevonmukhe hi jihvādau svayam eva sphuraty adaḥ\n\n(Śrī Bhakti-rasāmṛta-sindhu: Pūrva-vibhāga, 2.234)\n\nDevotion is so sweet, and gradually in the finest, most affectionate, and lovely way it will reveal itself in our heart by the grace of the Lord's devotee. Through the service and grace of the Lord's devotees we will see the Lord's divine play expressed everywhere. Through our tendency to serve, and our service to Guru–Vaiṣṇava, we will be cleanly and clearly qualified. Nowhere will we not see the sweet, affectionate, and lovely movements of the Lord's transcendental service world.\nChapter Seventeen   \nRecognising Devotion\n\nQuestion: How can we recognise a Guru or Vaiṣṇava? How can we know who we should serve under and take guidance from?\n\nŚrīla Govinda Mahārāj: It is very difficult to recognise a Vaiṣṇava.\n\nvaiṣṇava chinite nāre devera śakati  \nmui kona chhāra śiśu alpa-mati\n\n\"Even the demigods cannot recognise a Vaiṣṇava. So how shall I ever recognise one?\"\n\nIt is very difficult to recognise a Vaiṣṇava, but we can have some idea about who Vaiṣṇavas are through the definitions of a Vaiṣṇava given in the scriptures. Viṣṇur asya Devatā iti Vaiṣṇava: someone whose worshippable Lord is Viṣṇu is a Vaiṣṇava. This is a standard definition. In Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu gave a variety of definitions of a Vaiṣṇava:\n\n\"ataeva yā̐ra mukhe eka kṛṣṇa-nāma  \nsei ta' vaiṣṇava, kariha tā̐hāra sammāna\"\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Madhya-līlā, 15.111)\n\n\"Someone who has once chanted Kṛṣṇa's Name is a Vaiṣṇava. He should be respected.\"\n\n\"kṛṣṇa-nāma nirantara yā̐hāra vadane  \nsei vaiṣṇava-śreṣṭha, bhaja tā̐hāra charaṇe\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Madhya-līlā, 16.72)\n\n\"Someone who constantly chants Kṛṣṇa's Name is a great Vaiṣṇava. He should be served.\"\n\nyā̐hāra darśane mukhe āise kṛṣṇa-nāma  \ntā̐hāre jāniha tumi 'vaiṣṇava-pradhāna'\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Madhya-līlā, 16.74)\n\n\"Someone whose association makes others chant Kṛṣṇa's Name is the greatest Vaiṣṇava.\"\n\nAfter Prabhupād Śrīla Saraswatī Ṭhākur travelled throughout all of Vṛndāvan on parikramā, he slapped his forehead and said, \"I am so unfortunate. I have come to Vṛndāvan to see the Vaiṣṇavas, but I have not seen even one Vaiṣṇava.\" How could he say this? Everyone in Vṛndāvan is a Vaiṣṇava; everyone there worships Kṛṣṇa and at least sometimes says, \"Kṛṣṇa, Kṛṣṇa\". There is some Vaiṣṇavism within everyone there. Through Śrīla Saraswatī Ṭhākur's expression we can understand that it is necessary to realise that there is a gradation among Vaiṣṇavas. Śrīla Saraswatī Ṭhākur meant that he did not see a pure Vaiṣṇava on his Vṛndāvan parikramā.\n\nIf we see that someone has any of the qualities of a Vaiṣṇava, then we must consider that he is a Vaiṣṇava and give proper honour to him. We can first consider that anyone who leaves the association of other persons and joins in the association or ashram of the Vaiṣṇavas practising Kṛṣṇa consciousness has some Vaiṣṇava quality. And if someone who comes is recognised by Gurudev or an authority as a Vaiṣṇava, then we must consider that he is a Vaiṣṇava. Whenever Gurudev says that someone is a qualified Vaiṣṇava, then we must believe that and surrender to that qualified Vaiṣṇava.\n\nŚrīla Guru Mahārāj also explained to us other ways of practically understanding who is a Vaiṣṇava. He gave many examples: someone whom the Vaiṣṇavas are happy to see is a Vaiṣṇava; someone who is happy to see the Vaiṣṇavas is a Vaiṣṇava; someone who is happy to serve Vaiṣṇavas is a Vaiṣṇava, and so on. There are many varieties of definitions of a Vaiṣṇava.\n\nRecognition and respect\n\nThere is a very nice story in the Mahābhārata about the difficulty of recognising a Vaiṣṇava and the practice of respecting someone who is recognised as a Vaiṣṇava by an authority. After the great Rājasūya sacrifice, Kṛṣṇa, as well as many munis and ṛṣis, took prasādam at the mansion of the Pāṇḍavas. Lastly, Kṛṣṇa told the assembly, \"When this Rājasūya sacrifice has been properly completed, a bell will ring.\"\n\nBhīmasen heard Kṛṣṇa's statement and took it seriously. When the sacrifice seemed to be finished and everyone had been satisfied with prasādam, the bell did not ring. Bhīmasen asked Kṛṣṇa, \"Why is the bell not ringing? You said it would ring automatically when the sacrifice was successfully completed. Have we done something wrong?\"\n\nKṛṣṇa said, \"You have served prasādam to so many people, but you have not served all the Vaiṣṇavas. There is a Vaiṣṇava who lives in the jungle under a tree not too far from your mansion. He was not invited to the sacrifice, and he has not taken prasādam. Because he has not been served, there is some fault in your sacrifice, and it cannot be considered fully complete.\"\n\nBhīmasen and Arjuna understood that they needed to serve this Vaiṣṇava, but they knew that on their own they could not recognise him. Arjuna asked Kṛṣṇa, \"We cannot recognise who this Vaiṣṇava is on our own. Please come with us and show us who he is.\"\n\nKṛṣṇa accompanied Bhīmasen and Arjuna to the jungle and showed them, \"A great Vaiṣṇava lives near that tree in that broken thatched hut. He lives near you, but he does not come to your festivals. He has no hankering for anything mundane, even food.\"\n\nArjuna and Bhīmasen went up to his hut and with folded palms said, \"O Prabhu, please come and take prasādam at our sacrifice.\"\n\nThe Vaiṣṇava said, \"Oh! You are Arjuna and Bhīmasen. You have come to invite me, and it would be very offensive for me to not accept your invitation.\"\n\nHe responded very humbly in this way. Bhīmasen and Arjuna said, \"Kṛṣṇa Himself has said that you are a Vaiṣṇava. Please come and accept something from us.\"\n\nThat Vaiṣṇava never went anywhere or took anything from anyone, but when he was invited by Arjuna, Bhīmasen, and Kṛṣṇa Himself, he accepted and came to take prasādam.\n\nDraupadī was a very expert cook, and she prepared many varieties of food. She offered the Vaiṣṇava very opulent prasādam. Others fanned him and gave him much nourishment. When he took the prasādam, he mixed all the different preparations together and took them all at once.\n\nAfter he left, the bell still did not ring. Bhīmasen again asked Kṛṣṇa, \"What happened? You said that if we fed that Vaiṣṇava, everything would be finished and fulfilled.\"\n\nKṛṣṇa said, \"You must have made some offence. You have called him and fed him, but you must have somehow made an offence to him.\"\n\nKṛṣṇa asked Arjuna, \"When you called him and fed him did you make any offence to him?\"\n\nArjuna said, \"No. I do not remember making any offence.\"\n\nBhīmasen also said, \"No. I do not remember making any offence.\"\n\nYudhiṣṭhir and everyone else present also said, \"I do not remember seeing any offence made to him. I don't know what offence has been made.\"\n\nFinally, Kṛṣṇa asked His dear friend Draupadī, \"Draupadī, have you done anything?\"\n\nDraupadī confessed, \"I cooked so many varieties of prasādam for him, and when I saw him mix all of them together, I thought that he did not know how to properly accept this opulent prasādam. My thinking in this way may have been an offence.\"\n\nKṛṣṇa said, \"Yes. You are right. This was the offence. He should be called and fed again.\"\n\nThe next day Kṛṣṇa and Arjuna went and called the Vaiṣṇava again. They brought him to the mansion and fed him again. When he took prasādam, the second time the bell began to ring, and the sacrifice was complete. This story shows us that it is very difficult to recognise a Vaiṣṇava, and that it also may be difficult to respect him even when we are told that he is a Vaiṣṇava.\n\nPraying to the Vaiṣṇavas\n\nIt is very essential to follow a pure Vaiṣṇava and happily try to practise Kṛṣṇa consciousness under his guidance. Through our mundane knowledge we cannot understand who is a Vaiṣṇava and who is not. So we must pray to Kṛṣṇa, to Nityānanda Prabhu: \"I do not know who my Guru is. I do not know who the Vaiṣṇavas are. Please reveal them to me. Please give me the association of a proper Guru and real Vaiṣṇavas.\"\n\nŚrīla Bhakti Vinod Ṭhākur gave us very important advice about the position of the Vaiṣṇava in one of his songs. He explained how to recognise the Vaiṣṇava and receive his mercy:\n\nāmi ta' durbhaga ati vaiṣṇava nā chini  \nmore kṛpā karibena vaiṣṇava āpani\n\n(Kalyāṇa-kalpa-taru: Maṅgalācharaṇa, 6)\n\n\"I am so unfortunate, unqualified, and insignificant: I do not have the qualification to understand who is a Vaiṣṇava or Guru. I do not have the capacity to discover who is a Vaiṣṇava and who is not. This is a very difficult situation for me. My only hope is that the Vaiṣṇavas are merciful; they are oceans of mercy (kṛpā-sindhubhya eva cha) and can give me proper consciousness of who is a Vaiṣṇava and who is not: they can reveal themselves to me. If the door of my good fortune will open, then the real Vaiṣṇava will be merciful to me, and I will be able to understand his position. If I am a good boy, a good man, and I am humble and tolerant, and I give honour to others, then I will automatically attract the real Vaiṣṇava and receive his mercy and blessings. If I proceed with humility and tolerance, and give honour to everyone, then I will automatically honour the real Vaiṣṇava, and he will choose me to be a servitor of the Vaiṣṇavas.\"\n\nIt is through the quality of our own practice that we can attract the vision of the real Vaiṣṇava and receive his mercy, affection, and service connection.\n\nSelf-knowledge\n\nThe question of how to recognise a Vaiṣṇava is a very important question, and it is actually everyone's question. Here we find the answer in Śrīla Bhakti Vinod Ṭhākur's song, and it shows us that self-realisation is the best for us. If I want to be a Vaiṣṇava and associate with real Vaiṣṇavas, then I must ask myself, \"Am I a Vaiṣṇava or not? Am I actually capable of associating with Vaiṣṇavas?\" This type of self-examination is best for us.\n\nĀtmānaṁ viddhi: it is necessary to know your own self, to understand whether what you are doing, eating, and giving are really for the satisfaction of Guru and Vaiṣṇava. Self-knowledge, self-realisation, is best for us, and through that we will be promoted. If we are fully dedicated to the Lord, then help will come to us from His side. We must examine our own level of dedication. There is an Urdu or Arabian word, sāltamāmi, which means a calculated account of a year's debit and credit transactions. We must make a sāltamāmi of our own life: \"Every day the sun rises and sets. What am I doing and giving each day during that time? Day by day is my practising life increasing or decreasing? Am I dedicated externally or internally?\"\n\nWe must scrutinise what we are doing from morning to evening every day and make an account of that. It is necessary for us to realise how much good and bad was present within us in our previous days, and also to realise that whatever others are doing or will do is not so important for us. The biggest question for us must be what we are doing and what we are giving. If we can analyse ourselves in this way with a sāltamāmi every day, then we will become more perfect.\n\nIt is necessary for us to realise that we will get proper results in our spiritual life if we perfectly try to do our practice. It is no doubt difficult, but there is no other way to get out of the illusory environment. We must try as much as possible by us. It is necessary to see what is happening in our own lives. If we are not careful about our own activity, then we will be cheated.\n\nuttiṣṭhata jāgrata prāpya varān nibodhata  \nkṣurasya dhārā niśitā duratyayā  \ndurgaṁ pathas tat kavayo vadanti\n\n(Kaṭha-upaniṣad: 1.3.14)\n\nWe must awaken, arise, and practise our own spiritual life, even if the path may seem like a razor's edge. Durgaṁ pathas means that our spiritual path may not be very easy to pass through and may even seem to be impassable. But we have no other alternative. So we must try and proceed.\n\nRevitalising association\n\nQuestion: Sometimes we get discouraged for one reason or another in our spiritual life. How can we best keep our enthusiasm strong?\n\nŚrīla Govinda Mahārāj: We must always follow the directions of Śrīman Mahāprabhu. Then we will be enriched with humility, tolerance, and giving honour to others, and more and more our searching spirit will increase. It is necessary to develop within ourselves the qualities and qualifications for association with sādhus. Without humility we will not receive anything from others, without tolerance we will not be benefitted by others, and without giving honour to others we will always be disturbed. If we will try to cultivate these three qualities within ourselves, then quickly proper results will come to us.\n\nWhatever spiritual wealth you have, that is your property. And whatever spiritual wealth I have, that is my property. If I want to increase my spiritual property then I will have to look to you and find what more you have than I. In this way the tendency to associate with and learn from others will grow within us through the quality of humility. This is the best process to get association.\n\nIf we can sincerely practise in this way we will get proper association with the Lord's servants. By the grace of Sādhu, Guru, and Vaiṣṇava our enthusiasm in spiritual life will increase more and more. They are always giving us hope; they are never making us hopeless. Any situation may come before us, or we may commit any offence, but they are always giving us some hope and some service to the Lord. Our enthusiasm will grow through their association. Association is the best thing for conditioned souls to get more enthusiasm in their practising life.\n\nWe should not be frustrated. The ego is very bad. Ego destroys so many things. But our ego will go down if we cultivate and increase within ourselves the qualities of humility, tolerance, and giving honour to others. I am seeing that ego destroys our enthusiasm. What can I do? I can only give advice. If anyone will follow it they must be benefitted. Ego is very dangerous for everyone, and to leave ego is very difficult.\n\nControlling ego\n\nQuestion: Mahārāj, how can we recognise when we are suffering from false ego? How can we see ourselves under that influence? How do we know when we are displaying our false ego?\n\nŚrīla Govinda Mahārāj: It is only possible to recognise it through realisation. Suppose someone says to you, \"This is your ego.\" Your ego will not want to give that chance to them. But at that time if you will try to realise what they said and why they said it, if you try to realise how much there is something positive and beneficial for you in their statement, and how much is perhaps negative opposition, then you will be able to control your ego.\n\nWe have established ourselves within an egoistic position, so there is no other way our ego can be controlled than by our own realisation. Since the time when we were growing up we have chosen our own path and established ourselves upon our egoistic mountain. Only our own realisation can solve our problem, and it is best when our own realisation will come to us. Otherwise, if you have some faith in a particular person whom you consider superior to you, you can go to him and take his advice. If you can take his advice wholeheartedly, then also your ego will go down. There is no other way. Good association is always beneficial for everyone. But our 'good association' must really be association that is good for us.\n\nRealisation, faith, and prayer\n\nQuestion: How do we know who we should associate with? How can we recognise good association?\n\nŚrīla Govinda Mahārāj: This is a very good question and a difficulty for everyone. We must consider that we have some realisation and that our realisation has some power. Through that we will try to understand what will be good for us and whose association will be beneficial for us.\n\nFirst we will try to know about someone, \"Does he have affection for me or not? Does he have love for me or not? Does he consider what will be good for me or not? Is he sober in his relations with others or not?\" In this way we will try to understand something about someone from our side. But at the same time we will pray to our Lord, \"Give me good association. I have no capacity to discover who will be very good association in my life.\" It is necessary to both pray to the Lord and have some realisation from within our own self. In this way, from both sides, we will try to recognise good association. Also, in another way, if you have full faith in someone, you can ask him directly, \"Is this person good association for me or not? Is that person good association for me or not?\" Then from him you will also get some help. These are the general guidelines.\n\nDevotee: Mahārāj, I read that Śrīla Guru Mahārāj said, \"My relationship with someone should be seen by that person's relationship with the Centre and the Centre's relationship with that person. That is, if my Gurudev has much affection for that person and that person has much affection for my Gurudev, then I will think that that person is good association for me.\"\n\nŚrīla Govinda Mahārāj: A little difficulty will come from that idea when someone wants not temporary but permanent association. Based on that idea someone's choice will not be perfect. Sometimes through illusion we are misguided, and we need to take advice from an affectionate and wise friend. He may be a Guru or a Vaiṣṇava, but he must have a neutral personality and pure Vaiṣṇava qualities. He must not be envious. He must always be trying to help others and not be trying to misguide others or pursue personal interests. A person of that type will be most helpful for us.\n\nIf we have full faith in Guru then we can ask Guru directly, \"Will this be good for me or not?\" If the Guru has a good idea about that, then that is very good. But we are not always in the association of Guru. So we also have to try to realise and understand what will be good and what will be bad for us. In this way, many are misguided, and in this way also, many are benefitted.\n\nNon-enviousness\n\nThe main obstacle on our spiritual path is enviousness. Envy is very bad. I always see this, feel this, and am disturbed by it also. What shall I do? In the second verse of Śrīmad Bhāgavatam there is a short expression that is very important, sweet, and suitable for conditioned souls: nirmatsarāṇāṁ satām. This expression gives light to everyone: \"Be pure and free from enviousness. Appreciate others.\" This advice does not mean we should become pure like alloyed steel, but that we should become pure like gold. If we can make ourselves into generous, non-envious persons, then we will become pure like gold.\n\nIn this material world everything is moving up and down; everything is always shifting its position. Someone is becoming rich, someone is becoming poor; someone is becoming wise, someone is becoming foolish. Everything everywhere continues to move up and down in this world, but we must try to isolate ourselves from that and avoid being envious of anyone. We may not be able to understand how it will be possible, but we still must try. There is no other way to proceed in our spiritual life.\n\nWe will be able to harmonise everything when we truly take shelter at Kṛṣṇa's lotus feet. Kṛṣṇa is Reality the Beautiful, and with His connection we have the chance to feel the full form of His qualities and beauty. When we have the opportunity to get everything through our connection with the Lord, then we do not need to be envious of anyone else.\n\nŚrīla Guru Mahārāj trained me from my childhood: \"Serve the Vaiṣṇavas without enviousness.\" If we see a devotee doing our job better than we are, then we must consider that he is doing good for us. We should not be envious of him. When a devotee is doing so much that I cannot do, I praise him for that. I do not criticise him.\n\nWe know that whenever anyone does something there must be something right and something wrong in their action. No one has full knowledge or is completely wise. Śrīla Guru Mahārāj used the phrase, \"To err is human\" in one of his articles. All the Vaiṣṇavas want to be right; they want to do things right, and they try heart and soul. We should always consider their service efforts and overlook their faults. This is necessary for our society.\n\nIf according to our knowledge it seems to us that someone is not serving perfectly, then we should not be angry with him, and we should not be envious of him. Rather, we should look at our own self. If we feel the desire to criticise others, then we should first try to criticise our own self and find our own faults.\n\nātmaiva hy ātmano bandhur ātmaiva ripur ātmanaḥ\n\nŚrīmad Bhagavad-gītā (6.5) explains that I can be my own worst enemy and I can be my own best friend. When I criticise others, then I act as my own worst enemy. When I criticise myself, then I act as my own best friend. If we can continue our practising life in that way, then we will get a good result. \"He may be bad, but why should I not be good? I see some bad quality in him, but I cannot correct him. So why should I not try to be good and correct myself? I shall be good; whether he is good or bad is another thing. First of all I shall be good, knowing that I will be benefitted if I proceed in that way.\" We should look after ourselves in this way. That is very good for the continuation of our practising lives.\n\nSee the positive\n\nWe must try to proceed in this way, otherwise we have no hope. There are so many practitioners around us who are not perfect. Everyone has some imperfections. If we act like a drain inspector, always looking for the faults of others, then we will be offenders, and we will not properly honour the devotees. Who is a perfect devotee? It is very difficult to find a devotee who is fully dedicated to the Lord's service. Still, we can think that every devotee has some devotion.\n\nOnce one of Śrīla Bhakti Siddhānta Saraswatī Ṭhākur's disciples, Śrīpād Siddhāntī Mahārāj, came to speak with Śrīla Guru Mahārāj. When they were speaking in a relaxed mood, Śrīpād Siddhāntī Mahārāj said to Śrīla Guru Mahārāj, \"Mahārāj, I consider that all of our godbrothers are Vaiṣṇavas. Because they were all servitors of Śrīla Saraswatī Ṭhākur they have some Vaiṣṇava quality. But, side by side, I have seen that all of our godbrothers have difficulties, faults, and bad qualities. I have decided to put our godbrothers into some categories. Someone is a foolish Vaiṣṇava, someone is a wise Vaiṣṇava, someone is an envious Vaiṣṇava, someone is a simple Vaiṣṇava, and so on.\" Śrīpād Siddhāntī Mahārāj explained many different categories of Vaiṣṇavas, and Śrīla Guru Mahārāj laughed so much to hear that.\n\nEveryone is a Vaiṣṇava. This is correct. But how much? It is very good to use the idea of percentage. Someone may be five per cent Vaiṣṇava, someone may be ten per cent Vaiṣṇava, someone may be twenty per cent Vaiṣṇava, and someone who is one hundred per cent dedicated to the Lord is a real Vaiṣṇava. If we consider all of the devotees in this way, that will be perfect.\n\nWe should not hate others. Everyone has some quality, and with that quality they are enjoying. I also have some quality, and I live in my own zone with that. Internally I may know something about someone's behaviour, but externally I will see the Vaiṣṇavas' qualities and proceed carefully. Otherwise I will be the loser, and I may become an offender. It is true that some persons may do wrong, and it is also true that it is not good to follow someone who is doing wrong. Still, when I see someone doing something wrong in front of me, I should not hold any grudge against him or be envious of him. I can ignore that wrong while I try to make myself a perfect servitor. This is the only way to live harmoniously in society. I have considered this many times, and in this way we must be careful about Vaiṣṇavas and non-Vaiṣṇavas. Otherwise we will be cheated and may become an offender.\n\nThe formula for harmony\n\nŚrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu has given us the supreme formula to collect the good qualities of others, properly relate to everyone, and harmonise everything:\n\ntṛṇād api sunīchena taror iva sahiṣṇunā  \namāninā mānadena kīrtanīyaḥ sadā hariḥ\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Ādi-līlā, 17.31)\n\nWithin His formula Mahāprabhu gave us three very nice rules. Tṛṇād api sunīchena: be humble and do not disturb anyone. If we are humble, then we will not be a cause of anger for others, and everyone will be merciful to us. Taror iva sahiṣṇunā: tolerate everything going on in this mundane world. We are insignificant souls; we should not demand so much for ourselves. If we are tolerant, then we will not make any unnecessary disturbances for ourselves or others; in that way we will avoid the sinful, reactionary environment. Amāninā mānadena: give honour to everyone without desiring honour for yourself. Everyone has some ego, and we do not want to disturb others' egos. We should humbly give honour to everyone, even to persons who are not honourable. Everyone has some good qualities, so why should you not give honour to them? What is the difficulty for us? If we give honour to everyone, then everyone will be happy with us, and not only will they not disturb us, but they will help us in our practising life.\n\nThe conditioned souls always think that they are already qualified. That is their misfortune. When someone sees himself as the biggest he cannot see anything beyond himself. He can only see tiny things like ants and insects. When someone sees himself clearly and feels himself to be small, then he can see the highest and biggest things around him. It is hopeful for us to see ourselves not as the best or greatest, but as the least and smallest: to see that we have a great need for improvement. Whatever good qualities we may have are already our property which no one can take away from us. If we see good qualities anywhere in others, we should try to collect them. We can always collect goodness from wherever we find it through our practice of humility, tolerance, and giving honour to others.\n\nSmooth progress\n\nMahāprabhu's formula states that anyone who is humble and tolerant, and gives honour to others without expecting honour for himself can properly practise Hari-nām-saṅkīrtan. This teaching of Mahāprabhu gives us the proper spirit of spiritual life. When we follow the practice of humility, tolerance, and giving honour to others, we will not do anything wrong to anyone, and we will not make offences to anyone. If we give honour to everyone, then we will never be in danger of making an offence to a Vaiṣṇava (Vaiṣṇava-aparādh). It is completely necessary to avoid making offences to Vaiṣṇavas because the Hare Kṛṣṇa mahāmantra descends to us from the upper level through the Vaiṣṇavas.\n\nMahāprabhu gave us His formula because we cannot recognise Vaiṣṇavas. What can we do when we cannot recognise a Vaiṣṇava? We can give honour to everyone, even to persons who do not appear honourable to us. If we do so, then we will always give honour to the Vaiṣṇava, even though we may not recognise him. Generally, we can understand that we should honour a Vaiṣṇava; there is no question about that. But because it is difficult to recognise a Vaiṣṇava we should give honour to everyone, even to someone who appears to have nothing. The Lord resides in the heart of everyone, and everyone is a Vaiṣṇava by nature. We must honour everyone; then we will always proceed clearly in our spiritual life. This is very important.\n\nI always say that this procedure given by Mahāprabhu is the best procedure for practising spiritual life. Why? Because we are always doing something wrong, and we must avoid that. All souls have a very high prospect and property—they are all actually eternal servants of the Lord. Someone may be a tiny, insignificant soul who has not realised his own wealth, but we must give honour to everyone, no matter who they are. That way everyone will be merciful to us. If we do not make any enemies and rather make everyone our friend, then our practising life will proceed smoothly. We must proceed to our destiny, and for that we need the blessings of everyone, especially all the Vaiṣṇavas, in our practising life.\n\nWe need everyone's help and goodwill, and if we proceed to our destiny according to Mahāprabhu's formula, then everything will be very beautiful, fair, and good. We should be merciful to ourselves by giving honour to others. Then the whole world will become our friend, and all of the Lord's servants will be merciful to us.\n\nOur hope and challenge\n\nEven when we understand the idea and mood given by Mahāprabhu in His formula tṛṇād api sunīchena, it is still very difficult for us to follow. I have spoken about Mahāprabhu's formula my whole life, and so many people have heard about it from me. It is very easy to hear about it. And it is very easy, and very good, to speak about it with others also, no doubt. The difficulty is focusing on it in our own lives and following it properly. What Mahāprabhu has given as the aim and objective of Vaiṣṇavism is actually very difficult to follow. Some persons have spent a long life in Kṛṣṇa consciousness—thirty, forty, fifty, sixty years—but not become enriched with the three qualities of humility, tolerance, and giving honour to others. There is an expression in Bengal,\n\nvaiṣṇava haba bali' chhila mora sāda  \ntṛṇād api śloke paḍi gela vāda\n\n\"I had a strong desire to become a Vaiṣṇava, but when I heard that I needed to follow Mahāprabhu's prescription of tṛṇād api sunīchena... then I felt very hopeless: 'How will I ever become a Vaiṣṇava?'\"\n\nEveryone struggles to remember Mahāprabhu's formula and practise it properly. Sometimes we easily forget it and do something wrong. But when we come back to our good sense, we can immediately begin practising it again. Every time we can start again anew, and there is no problem with that. We forget, our sense comes back to us, and then we can again do good with our life. In that way we must try to go on and make ourselves perfect.\n\nFaith is our first necessity in this practice, and under the guidance of faith we can proceed properly in the line of Kṛṣṇa consciousness. So many disturbances may come to us, but we can cross over them by faithfully trying to practise Mahāprabhu's simple formula: humility, tolerance, and giving honour to others. We are not always successful, but we are trying to do that. We should not be disappointed or frustrated. We must see that whatever situation comes to us has been given to us by Kṛṣṇa, and we will try to harmonise that situation through our practice of humility, tolerance, and giving honour to others. If we are not able to harmonise something and practise properly, then we can faithfully pray to our Master: \"You see everything, and You properly look after everyone; please do whatever is best for me.\" This type of faith in the Lord's protection over us is necessary to have behind our practice of Mahāprabhu's formula.\n\nThe quality of our existence\n\nIf we chant the Hare Kṛṣṇa mahāmantra with the qualities of humility, tolerance, and giving honour to others, we will certainly get a proper result. Mahāprabhu has promised us this, and even Kṛṣṇa will not be able to check our result because our result will come to us through His devotee's devotee. Humility, tolerance, and the offering of respect are the essential qualities of a devotee. Everyone must maintain those qualities in their devotional lives. If anyone is successful in practising Mahāprabhu's procedure, then they will be very, very close to liberation, and after liberation they will see and feel how everything is transcendental and all right, by the will of the Lord.\n\nHow humble we are, how tolerant we are, and how much we give honour to others is the quality of our existence in the line of Kṛṣṇa consciousness. This is the teaching of Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu, Śrīla Kṛṣṇadās Kavirāj Goswāmī, Śrīla Bhakti Vinod Ṭhākur, Prabhupād Śrīla Saraswatī Ṭhākur, and my Guru Mahārāj, Śrīla Bhakti Rakṣak Śrīdhar Dev-Goswāmī Mahārāj.\nSection Six   \nKṛṣṇa-prema\n\nDaśa-mūla-tattva\n\nTruth Ten:\n\nsādhyaṁ tat-prītiṁ\n\nLove for Śrī Kṛṣṇa is the goal.\nChapter Eighteen   \nInconceivable Glory\n\nEverywhere throughout the scriptures Kṛṣṇa is glorified beyond all other Gods and demigods as the Supreme Personality of Godhead, who lives eternally in His divine abode of Goloka Vṛndāvan.\n\nvirajāra pāre śuddha-paravyoma-dhāma  \ntad upari śrī-gokula-vṛndāraṇya nāma\n\n(Gītāvalī: Rādhāṣṭakam, 2.1)\n\n\"Beyond Virajā, the river that divides the material and spiritual worlds, is Paravyoma Dhām, the spiritual sky, and the supreme, original abode within the spiritual sky is Goloka Vṛndāvan, Lord Kṛṣṇa's eternal residence.\"\n\nIn Kṛṣṇa's transcendental abode everything moves according to Kṛṣṇa's will for Kṛṣṇa's satisfaction. We cannot conceive how much beauty, ecstasy, and love play in the Pastimes of the Sweet Absolute in Śrī Vṛndāvan Dhām. In Vṛndāvan, time, space, and everything within the environment move, expand, and contract according to Kṛṣṇa's will. But Kṛṣṇa Himself is not directly concerned with anything; He simply enjoys. Kṛṣṇa's immediate expansion Saṅkarṣaṇ Balarām is the actual manager of the transcendental world. He makes all the arrangements for Kṛṣṇa's play and satisfaction through His potency Yogamāyā. It is Yogamāyā, Kṛṣṇa's delegated power, who actually arranges all of Kṛṣṇa's Pastimes.\n\nThrough her power Yogamāyā can understand all the desires that appear in the hearts of Kṛṣṇa, Rādhārāṇī, the sakhīs, the mañjarīs, and all the servitors in that abode. She can understand in which way Kṛṣṇa wants to play with the gopīs, in which way Kṛṣṇa wants to play with Rādhārāṇī, where He wants to play, and so on. She can understand everything. Kṛṣṇa only wishes in His heart, \"I want this\", or \"I want that\", and Yogamāyā arranges everything. When Rādhārāṇī wants to worship Kṛṣṇa in Rādhā Kuṇḍa, Yogamāyā arranges everything there. So, under the guidance of Yogamāyā and Rādhārāṇī, Kṛṣṇa's supreme servitors who fulfil all of His desires to the extreme, everything and everyone within the transcendental abode is engaged in satisfying Kṛṣṇa.\n\nWish-fulfilling servitors\n\nThe glory of Kṛṣṇa's transcendental abode has been very beautifully described in Śrī Brahma-saṁhitā, the prayers of Lord Brahmā. Through meditation (dhyān) upon the gāyatrī-mantram, everything was revealed in Brahmā's heart. In Brahma-saṁhitā he expressed his divine vision of Kṛṣṇa and Kṛṣṇa's divine abode.\n\nśriyaḥ kāntāḥ kāntaḥ parama-puruṣaḥ kalpa-taravo  \ndrumā bhūmiś chintāmaṇi-gaṇa-mayi toyam amṛtam  \nkathā gānaṁ nāṭyaṁ gamanam api vaṁśī priya-sakhi  \nchid-ānandaṁ jyotiḥ param api tad āsvādyam api cha  \nsa yatra kṣīrābdhiḥ sravati surabhībhyaś cha sumahān  \nnimeṣārdhākhyo vā vrajati na hi yatrāpi samayaḥ  \nbhaje śvetadvīpaṁ tam aham iha golokam iti yaṁ  \nvidantas te santaḥ kṣiti-virala-chārāḥ katipaye\n\n(Śrī Brahma-saṁhitā: 5.56)\n\nŚriyaḥ kāntāḥ: all the ladies in Goloka Vṛndāvan are like Lakṣmī Devī. Their ankle bells are made of wish-fulfilling gems, and they are full with all wealth, beauty, love, charm, and so on. They play with their beloved Kṛṣṇa, who is their only enjoyer. Kāntaḥ Parama-Puruṣaḥ: the sole enjoyer in Goloka Vṛndāvan is Kṛṣṇa, and He enjoys all the different moods of devotion present in the hearts of all His associates in His divine abode.\n\nKalpa-taravo drumā: all the plants in Goloka Vṛndāvan are also wish-fulfilling. All living entities in Goloka Vṛndāvan, all of the trees, bees, deer, and so on, are fully conscious servitors of the Lord eager to be engaged in His service. No one in Kṛṣṇa's abode has any selfish desire for anything. Everyone there is a liberated soul who is permanently inspired to live in that transcendental service world, where everyone's happiness increases hundreds and hundreds of times by engaging in the Lord's service. Because all the living entities there have pure service inspiration, the Lord gives them infinite capacity to serve.\n\nThe plants of Goloka Vṛndāvan possess unlimited wealth and can produce anything for anyone, according to the necessity of service. Whatever anyone desires to prepare for the enjoyment of their Lord can be provided by any tree in Vṛndāvan. If you ask any tree there, \"Give me an apple\", then that tree will be able to give you an apple. If you ask a banana tree, \"Give me a ripe mango that has no skin or seed\", then the banana tree will give you that mango. When the Lord or His devotees eat that mango, they will be very satisfied, and when that mango is being eaten, that mango will also be very satisfied. This is achintya, inconceivable, but it is true. It is possible because everything in Goloka Vṛndāvan is transcendental.\n\nIf you ask a friend, \"Give me a glass of water\", your friend will bring you that glass of water from nearby or from far away. There, anything can be provided from anywhere. When you say, \"Water\", water will come before you. When you say, \"Fruit\", fruit will come before you. Anything you desire there is also a servitor eager to be engaged. Whatever you conceive of immediately comes to you. This is the meaning of chintāmaṇi [wish-fulfilling]. All of Goloka Vṛndāvan is chintāmaṇi. The land there is made of chintāmaṇi gems: bhūmiś chintāmaṇi gaṇa-mayi. Everything you will ever need will always be there for you in that abode. All the plants and trees, and even the land itself, can give you anything and everything you require for Kṛṣṇa's service.\n\nThe expansion and contraction of space\n\nOnce, when I was a young boy, I went on parikramā with Śrīla Guru Mahārāj in Vṛndāvan Dhām. After we visited many different places we came to Varshana, and there I asked Śrīla Guru Mahārāj: \"Rādhārāṇī's father's house is here in Varshana, but her husband Abhimanyu's house is located eight kilometres away in Yavat. Externally Rādhārāṇī goes to worship Sūrya every morning with Her associates and then comes back to Her house to cook and take care of Her household work. She also travels to Rādhā Kuṇḍa, which is thirty kilometres away, for Her play with the Sweet Absolute. How is this possible for an innocent fourteen-year-old girl? Where does She get the time and energy necessary for all this travelling? Even if She had a helicopter or a motorcycle, She would hardly have time to travel back and forth every day in this way.\"\n\nLater in my life I studied a variety of subjects and learned something about ghost theory. If we are sitting in Govardhan and I ask a ghost, \"What is going on right now in my room in Kolkata?\" The ghost can answer me from Govardhan very quickly, \"Your room is now locked, and someone is cleaning just outside your door.\" But if I ask a ghost, \"Can you see if Pavitra Sevan Prabhu is seated here before me?\", the ghost will say, \"Please wait.\" Then after some time the ghost will tell me, \"Yes, I can see Pavitra Sevan Prabhu, Śrīpād Āśram Mahārāj, and Kṛṣṇachandra Prabhu sitting with you.\" If you ask the ghost, \"Why can you immediately tell me what is going on in Kolkata but need to ask me to wait before you tell me who is sitting right in front of me?\", the ghost will say, \"I cannot see what is close to me, but I can see things that are very far away and can travel across the earth very quickly. I need to quickly go a little distance away and look before I can tell you who is next to you.\"\n\nThis is ghost theory, but ghost theory is not transcendental theory. The devotees in Goloka Vṛndāvan are not like ghosts.\n\nAfter I asked Śrīla Guru Mahārāj my question about Rādhārāṇī's service in Vṛndāvan he replied, \"Bhūmiś chintāmaṇi: the land is made of wish-fulfilling gems. When Rādhārāṇī thinks, 'I am going to Rādhā Kuṇḍa', the earth contracts, and within five minutes She immediately arrives in Rādhā Kuṇḍa. This is the transcendental quality of Kṛṣṇa's abode: it can expand and contract according to Kṛṣṇa's desire and the service of His devotees. If anyone there thinks, 'I shall go to Mathurā', then they will see, 'I am in Mathurā'. If anyone thinks, 'I shall go to Varshana', they will arrive there immediately even though it is thirty kilometres away.\"\n\nThe nature of Vṛndāvan is chintāmaṇi: whatever devotees think of comes to them. In the material world a ghost may be able to see great distances and travel great distances very quickly in pursuit of its desires. But in the transcendental world the environment itself expands, contracts, and adjusts according to the desires of the Lord and His devotees.\n\nIn this way we can understand that everything in Vṛndāvan is transcendental. In Vṛndāvan toyam amṛtam: the water is like nectar. Kathā gānam: the talking is like singing. Nāṭyaṁ gamanam api: the walking is like dancing. Vaṁśī priya-sakhi: Kṛṣṇa's flute-song is heard everywhere. Chid-ānandaṁ jyotiḥ: whenever it is necessary, inconceivable light appears everywhere coming from everything, and whenever it is not necessary, it is hidden.\n\nUnlimited cows with unlimited milk\n\nSa yatra kṣīrābdhiḥ sravati surabhībhyaś cha sumahān: in Kṛṣṇa's abode oceans of milk flow from millions of Surabhi cows for nourishing Kṛṣṇa and His devotees. Surabhi is a cow who can give you whatever you desire. There is a story in the Mahābhārata that shows the glory of the Surabhi cow. Once, when Viśvāmitra was a kṣatriya king, he was travelling with his army and came to the dwelling of Vaśiṣṭha Ṛṣi. Vaśiṣṭha Ṛṣi insisted on feeding Viśvāmitra's entire army, and within two hours he gave good nourishment to all Viśvāmitra's soldiers. Viśvāmitra was surprised, \"How have you supplied food to thousands of my soldiers and satisfied my whole army within only two hours?\"\n\nVaśiṣṭha Ṛṣi said, \"I have one cow, and she gave me everything I needed to nourish everyone. My cow, Nandinī, will give me anything I ask from her.\" Nandinī is the daughter of Surabhi, and she was mercifully staying in the house of Vaśiṣṭha Ṛṣi.\n\nViśvāmitra said, \"I want to take this cow with me. I am a king, and I want to enjoy with this cow.\"\n\nVaśiṣṭha said, \"No. It is impossible. This cow is a wish-fulfilling cow who has come down from heaven. Wherever she lives, heaven appears. She is mercifully staying in my home, but she is a heavenly cow and cannot stay in any mundane house.\"\n\nViśvāmitra objected, \"I want to take her with me. I will take her forcibly with the help of the thousands of soldiers I have with me.\"\n\nVaśiṣṭha Ṛṣi said to Nandinī, \"I cannot resist Viśvāmitra. I have no power. But you mother, you can resist yourself.\" Then Nandinī immediately produced thousands of soldiers for fighting, and Viśvāmitra was stunned as all of his soldiers were defeated.\n\nFinally Viśvāmitra said, \"Dhig balaṁ kṣatriya-balaṁ brahma-tejo-balaṁ balam: now I can see that the power of the brāhmaṇs is supreme in this world. I must become a brāhmaṇ.\" Viśvāmitra then left his kingdom and began performing austerities (tapasya) to become a brāhmaṇ. That is another history, but through this story we can understand how much abundance can be produced by millions of Surabhi cows and how opulent the environment of Vṛndāvan Dhām must be.\n\nThe service-flow of time\n\nNimeṣārdhākhyo vā vrajati na hi yatrāpi samayaḥ: in Vṛndāvan time follows Kṛṣṇa's sweet will. According to Kṛṣṇa's desire time passes or stands still. Vrajati na hi means na gachchhati: time, samayaḥ, does not pass but stands by waiting to follow Kṛṣṇa's order. This means that every day, night, and moment in Vṛndāvan expands and contracts according to Kṛṣṇa's desire. One second, one blink of an eye, does not pass without notice and without bringing happiness to Kṛṣṇa.\n\nWhen I first heard this expression, I was stunned. In the mundane world time is always passing. We are always saying, \"Everything in this world is a passing show.\" But in the transcendental environment time does not pass without being engaged in Kṛṣṇa's service. Time may become infinitely long or short according to Kṛṣṇa's desire.\n\nI once saw an advertisement, \"All time is teatime.\" This is true in one sense in Vṛndāvan: there every moment is the best time. In Vṛndāvan, time is eternally present; there is no past or future. In Śrīmad Bhāgavatam it is described that when Kṛṣṇa would perform rāsa-līlā with the gopīs, the night would last the length of a night of Brahmā. That means that the rāsa-līlā Pastimes of Kṛṣṇa with the gopīs went on for billions and billions of years within one night. In this way we can understand how and why time flows in Vṛndāvan.\n\nThe transcendental environment\n\nBhaje Śvetadvīpaṁ tam aham iha Golokam iti yam: Kṛṣṇa's divine abode is known as Śvetadwīp or Goloka Vṛndāvan. Vidantas te santaḥ kṣiti-virala-chārāḥ katipaye: in this world it is known only to a few saints who are clean-hearted, exclusive servitors of Kṛṣṇa. Only very clean-hearted persons can feel and understand Kṛṣṇa's transcendental world from within the material environment. If you give transcendental knowledge entrance and a clean position in your heart through prayer, then it will reveal itself in your heart. When transcendental knowledge wants to reveal itself in your heart, then it must be revealed; even you will not be able to check it. When Vṛndāvan Dhām is revealed in your heart, you will automatically feel everything.\n\nFrom our mundane position we cannot gauge or feel the nature of Vṛndāvan. If we try to feel that abode from here, what we feel will be mundane. It is not necessary for us to discuss the matters of the transcendental world so much. That abode is not revealed through lectures or reading actually. It is revealed through dedication, devotion, determination, and divine grace. When one is fully enriched with those qualities, one will get everything automatically. We should only try to keep our faith. We will simply try to believe in what Śrīmad Bhāgavatam, Śrī Brahma-saṁhitā, and the other scriptures have expressed about the Lord's Pastimes with His liberated devotees in His divine abode.\n\nWe use this word devotee often, but in the Lord's abode no one is actually a devotee in a way that we would recognise. Everyone there is an affectionate lover of Lord Kṛṣṇa. A 'devotee' means someone who always follows the instructions of Kṛṣṇa. But following orders only goes up to dāsya-rasa, a service relationship with the Lord. In Vṛndāvan, Kṛṣṇa's associates are in the relationships of sakhya-rasa [friendship], vātsalya-rasa [affectionate guardianship], and madhura-rasa [paramour love]. Sometimes they push Kṛṣṇa, \"Go and do this. Eat and enjoy that.\" Kṛṣṇa's lovers sometimes have a mood that is completely the opposite of Kṛṣṇa's.\n\nWe cannot gauge from the mundane plane anything about Kṛṣṇa's transcendental world. No one in the mundane environment can understand or feel Kṛṣṇa's transcendental abode without His mercy.\n\nKṛṣṇa's flute-song\n\nŚrīla Rūpa Goswāmī Prabhu has written a very nice verse describing the transcendental, attractive power of the sound of Kṛṣṇa's flute:\n\nrundhann ambu-bhṛtaś chamatkṛti-paraṁ kurvan muhus tumburuṁ  \ndhyānād antarayan sanandana-mukhān vismāpayan vedhasam  \nautsukyāvalibhir baliṁ chaṭulayan bhogīndram āghūrṇayan  \nbhindann aṇḍa-kaṭāha-bhittim abhito babhrāma vaṁśī-dhvaniḥ\n\n(Vidagdha-mādhava: 1.27)\n\nBhindann aṇḍa-kaṭāha-bhittim abhito babhrāma: when Kṛṣṇa plays His flute, the sound travels not only everywhere throughout His divine abode but throughout all universes. The sound of Kṛṣṇa's flute travels through sky after sky, across all times and spaces. Rundhann ambu-bhṛtaś: the clouds within all the skies scatter. Chamatkṛti-paraṁ kurvan muhus tumburum: the Gandharvas, the singers and musicians of the heavenly planets, as well as Indra, Chandra, Vāyu, and so on, are astonished to hear the sweet sound of Kṛṣṇa's flute and cannot understand where it is coming from. The four kumāras—Sananda, Sanaka, Sanātan, and Sanat—who are always in meditation, cannot believe they are hearing Kṛṣṇa's flute-song. They are never aware of anything in their external environment, and they wonder, \"Where has this sound come from? How has it captured our attention?\"\n\nVismāpayan vedhasam: Lord Brahmā, the creator of the universe, is very astonished to hear the flute's sound: \"This sound is not my creation. Where is it coming from?\"\n\nAutsukyāvalibhir baliṁ chaṭulayan: Bali Mahārāj, who lives in Pātālaloka [the underworld], hears the flute's sound and becomes chañchal [excited]: \"Where is this sound coming from?\"\n\nBhogīndram āghūrṇayan: Satyarāj Vāsuki, Lord Ananta Śeṣa, who holds the earth on His heads, is struck by that sound and His heads shake.\n\nIn this way the tune of Kṛṣṇa's flute makes the whole transcendental and material universe mad and attracts everyone everywhere.\n\nWithin Kṛṣṇa's divine abode of Goloka Vṛndāvan, His flute-song is the very life of everyone (vaṁśī priya-sakhi). Through the transcendental sound vibration of His flute, Kṛṣṇa communicates with the hearts of all His devotees. All of Kṛṣṇa's associates find their existence in the sound of His flute (vaṁśī-dhvani). By Kṛṣṇa's sweet will, everyone hears His flute-song and is inspired by it according to their relationship with Him. All the devotees—in their relationships of śānta, dāsya, sakhya, vātsalya, and madhura rasas—are filled with affection and given instruction by Kṛṣṇa's flute-song; they are inspired as to how they can next serve Kṛṣṇa.\n\nKṛṣṇa's mother Yaśomatī hears Kṛṣṇa's flute-song and begins preparing many opulent foods that Kṛṣṇa likes. Kṛṣṇa's friends become inspired to play with Kṛṣṇa. Kṛṣṇa's girlfriends become inspired to meet Him. Kṛṣṇa's flute-song simultaneously reveals Kṛṣṇa's desires to everyone, according to their relationship with Him.\n\nThe source of Kṛṣṇa's power\n\nKṛṣṇa is irresistibly attractive as He plays His flute. Kṛṣṇa's devotees become completely charmed by His attractive power as He plays His flute and cannot separate their existence from their desire for Kṛṣṇa.\n\nśrī-kṛṣṇa-rūpādi-niṣevaṇaṁ vinā  \nvyarthāni me 'hāny akhilendriyāṇy alam  \npāṣāṇa-śuṣkendhana-bhārakāṇy aho  \nbibharmi vā tāni kathaṁ hata-trapaḥ\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Madhya-līlā, 2.28)\n\nKṛṣṇa's devotees feel, \"If we cannot serve Kṛṣṇa's divine form, then all of our senses are useless. Why do we have eyes if we cannot see Kṛṣṇa?\"\n\nvaṁśī-gānāmṛta-dhāma, lāvaṇyāmṛta-janma-sthāna,  \nye nā dekhe se chā̐da vadana\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Madhya-līlā, 2.29)\n\nAs Kṛṣṇa plays His sweet song on His flute, His moon-like face blooms with unlimitedly attractive attachment and heartfelt affection.\n\nŚrīla Guru Mahārāj has explained why Kṛṣṇa's flute-song is so attractive. We know that the gāyatrī-mantram comes from the sound of Kṛṣṇa's flute. So through the gāyatrī-mantram we can understand the mood and intention of Kṛṣṇa as He plays His flute.\n\ngāyatrī muralīṣṭa-kīrtana-dhanaṁ rādhā-padaṁ dhīmahi\n\n(Śrīla Bhakti Rakṣak Śrīdhar Dev-Goswāmī Mahārāj)\n\nGāyatrī means muralī-dhvani, the sound of Kṛṣṇa's flute. Muralīṣṭa-kīrtana: muralī wants kīrtan; through His flute Kṛṣṇa performs His desired kīrtan. Muralī-iṣṭa: iṣṭa means Kṛṣṇa wants to perform kīrtan of His dearmost: Rādhārāṇī. Through His flute-song, gāyatrī, Kṛṣṇa calls the Name of Rādhārāṇī, \"Rādhā Rādhā Rādhā Rādhā\", and expresses His glorification of Rādhārāṇī. Dhanam, the real wealth of Kṛṣṇa, the real wealth of His play and the source of His attractive power, is Rādhārāṇī's lotus feet, and only Rādhārāṇī's lotus feet. Rādhā-padaṁ dhīmahi: Kṛṣṇa plays His flute-song in meditation upon Rādhārāṇī's lotus feet.\n\nRādhārāṇī's divine qualities\n\nŚrī Śrī Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa's Pastimes are not ordinary human activities. They are not found within the material environment. They are called līlā (divine Pastimes). They are not material in any way; they are transcendental. Rādhārāṇī is Kṛṣṇa's supreme Power, His Parā-śakti. She is also known as His Hlādinī-śakti. Hlādinī means 'She who always gives joy to Kṛṣṇa'. It measn that all of Her activities create great joy in Śrī Kṛṣṇa's heart. Śrīla Kṛṣṇadās Kavirāj Goswāmī explained,\n\nhlādinīra sāra 'prema', prema-sāra 'bhāva'  \nbhāvera parama-kāṣṭhā, nāma—'mahābhāva'  \nmahābhāva-svarūpā śrī-rādhā-ṭhākurāṇī  \nsarva-guṇa-khani kṛṣṇa-kāntā-śiromaṇi\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Ādi-līlā, 4.68–69)\n\n[\"The acme of pleasure is love; the acme of love is ecstasy; and the acme of ecstasy is Mahābhāva. The embodiment of Mahābhāva is Śrī Rādhā Ṭhākurāṇī, the mine of all good qualities, the crest jewel of Kṛṣṇa's lovers.\"]\n\nAll qualities and qualifications; all beauty, love, charm, and ecstasy; all the wealth of service—everything—is in the hand of Rādhārāṇī. With everything She satisfies Kṛṣṇa, and Kṛṣṇa is fully satisfied with Her.\n\nRādhārāṇī's names have special qualities and beauty. We know a very sweet and beautiful verse about Rādhārāṇī's names.\n\ndevī kṛṣṇa-mayī proktā rādhikā para-devatā  \nsarva-lakṣmī-mayī sarva-kāntiḥ sammohinī parā\n\n(Bṛhad-Gautamīya-tantra)\n\nThis is a Sanskrit verse, and Kṛṣṇadās Kavirāj Goswāmī has given an explanation of it in Bengali:\n\nkṛṣṇa-mayī—kṛṣṇa yā̐ra bhitare bāhire  \nyā̐hā yā̐hā netra paḍe tā̐hā kṛṣṇa sphure\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Ādi-līlā, 4.85)\n\n\"Rādhārāṇī's name is Kṛṣṇamayī because Her within and without are Lord Kṛṣṇa, and She sees Lord Kṛṣṇa wherever She casts Her glance.\"\n\nKṛṣṇa is always present within, and in front of, Rādhārāṇī. Kṛṣṇa is within Her, and She sees Him wherever She looks. She does not see anything apart from Kṛṣṇa, and Kṛṣṇa plays wherever Her eyes go. Rādhārāṇī's name Kṛṣṇamayī has been described in Vidyāpati's Padyāvalī in poetic form:\n\nyadi nayana muḍe thāki', antare govinda dekhi,  \nnayane khulile dekhi śyāme\n\n[Rādhārāṇī says:] \"If I close My eyes, I see Kṛṣṇa playing in My heart. If I open My eyes, I see Kṛṣṇa playing before Me.\"\n\nShe who cannot see anything apart from Kṛṣṇa is called Kṛṣṇamayī.\n\nKavirāj Goswāmī also explained that Her name is Rādhikā because She satisfies Kṛṣṇa's desires with all of Her senses, because She knows nothing other than constant worship of Kṛṣṇa.\n\nPara-devatā means She who serves as the proprietor of the best of all the Gods: Kṛṣṇa. All administration and property in the transcendental service world are in Her hand. Thus She is known as Para-devatā. Because She is the wholesale proprietor of everything for Kṛṣṇa's service, She is known as Sarva-lakṣmī-mayī. This name means 'She from whom all beauty and fortune flow', 'She who is the fountain of all wealth, beauty, and qualities, the fountain of Kṛṣṇa's Pastimes'.\n\nRādhārāṇī can enchant Kṛṣṇa with Her mood and divine form. Thus She is known as Sammohinī. Śuka and Śārī, the male and female parrots of Vṛndāvan, playfully quarrel:\n\nśuka bale, \"āmāra kṛṣṇa madana-mohana\"  \nśārī bale, \"āmāra rādhā vāme yata kṣaṇa\"\n\nŚuka says, \"My Kṛṣṇa attracts Cupid.\"\n\nŚārī replies, \"As long as my Rādhā is by His side.\"\n\nCupid is known as Bhuvana Mohan, 'he who attracts the whole world'. Kṛṣṇa is known as Bhuvana Mohan Mohan, 'He who attracts Cupid'. Rādhārāṇī is known as Bhuvana Mohan Mohan Mohinī, 'She who attracts Kṛṣṇa, who attracts everyone in the whole world away from Cupid'. If Kṛṣṇa is separated from Rādhārāṇī, He becomes attracted by Cupid (lust). In this way we can understand Rādhārāṇī's name Sammohinī, 'She who is supremely attractive'.\n\n'devī' kahi dyotamānā, paramā sundarī\n\nkimvā, kṛṣṇa-pūjā-krīḍāra vasati nagarī\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Ādi-līlā, 4.84)\n\nHere in his explanation of Rādhārāṇī's names Śrīla Kṛṣṇadās Kavirāj Goswāmī miraculously revealed the meaning of the Sanskrit word devī. Normally we think devī refers to a beautiful heavenly goddess, 'she from whom all beauty comes'. Śrīla Kavirāj Goswāmī explained that devī comes from the root div, which means play (div dhātu krīḍāyām). He explained that devī also means 'She in whom Kṛṣṇa plays in full', 'She in whose body there is noth­ing other than the wor­ship and play of Kṛṣṇa'. Kṛṣṇa is satisfied by the full existence of the full form of Rādhārāṇī. He is fully satisfied with His play in madhura-rasa-līlā with Rādhārāṇī. Because Rādhārāṇī's body is the supreme abode of Kṛṣṇa's service and play, She is called devī. No one could conceive of this meaning of the Sanskrit word devī, but Śrīla Kṛṣṇadās Kavirāj Goswāmī revealed it.\n\nRādhārāṇī's divine guidance\n\nThe divine play of Śrī Śrī Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa is eternally going on in Vṛndāvan Dhām. Everything in Vṛndāvan exists to give joy to Kṛṣṇa. There Rādhārāṇī distributes Her power to everyone, and Kṛṣṇa enjoys with everyone. There Kṛṣṇa tastes divine love through Rādhārāṇī. Bhakti Vinod Ṭhākur very simply expressed this in his song:\n\nrādhā-bhajane yadi mati nāhi bhelā  \nkṛṣṇa-bhajana tava akāraṇe gelā\n\n(Gītāvalī: Rādhāṣṭakam, 8.1)\n\n\"If you do not worship Kṛṣṇa under the guidance of Rādhārāṇī, everything you do will be lost. You will not get any ecstasy from the emporium of all ecstasy (Kṛṣṇa). You will not taste anything. Akāraṇe gelā: you can worship Kṛṣṇa, but no benefit will come to you if you do not worship Kṛṣṇa under the guidance of Rādhārāṇī.\"\n\nMirabai is an example of a famous devotee who did not approach Kṛṣṇa through Rādhārāṇī. We offer our daṇḍavat praṇām to all devotees of Kṛṣṇa, and we offer our daṇḍavat praṇām to Mirabai, but from a distance. We do not have a real connection with Mirabai, and we do not offer our affection or service to Mirabai. There are many devotees like Mirabai. We are not attached to them. If someone worships Kṛṣṇa without Rādhārāṇī, Kṛṣṇa gives them something, maybe He gives them five per cent. But if someone serves Kṛṣṇa under Rādhārāṇī's guidance, they get everything. Lord Kṛṣṇa Himself openly confessed,\n\nna pāraye 'haṁ niravadya-saṁyujāṁ  \nsva-sādhu-kṛtyaṁ vibudhāyuṣāpi vaḥ  \nyā mābhajan durjaya-geha-śṛṅkhalāḥ   \nsaṁvṛśchya tad vaḥ pratiyātu sādhunā4\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam: 10.32.22)\n\n\"I cannot reciprocate the love and affection that I have received from Rādhārāṇī.\"\n\nThus when Kṛṣṇa sees His devotees serving Rādhārāṇī, He enriches them with His full mercy.\n\nRādhārāṇī manages and distributes all service to Kṛṣṇa. All of Kṛṣṇa's Pastimes happen through Her power. Her hlādinī-śakti is the source of all of Kṛṣṇa's pleasure, and Her potency form of Yogamāyā manages the whole environment of the transcendental world.\n\nOnce when Śrīla Guru Mahārāj was explaining this point, someone said to him, \"You are actually tantrics. You are always saying, 'Under the guidance of Rādhārāṇī you are serving Kṛṣṇa', so you are following the conception of prakṛtivād (energy worship).\"\n\nŚrīla Guru Mahārāj replied, \"Yes. We are tantrics. But we are viśuddha-tantrics, pure unalloyed tantrics. 'Under the guidance of Rādhārāṇī' means that under the guidance of Her transcendental energy we are serving Kṛṣṇa. Our service goes directly to Rādhārāṇī, not to Kṛṣṇa, and Rādhārāṇī arranges everything for the satisfaction of Kṛṣṇa with our service energy. So our service is present as Rādhārāṇī gives full nourishment to Kṛṣṇa, and in that way we fulfil the most important necessity of our existence: purely satisfying Kṛṣṇa.\"\n\nAn enchanting breeze\n\nWe can understand how much love and attachment Kṛṣṇa has for Rādhārāṇī, how supremely She satisfies Him, and how extremely valuable the service of Rādhārāṇī is, through an expression of Prabodhānanda Saraswatī Ṭhākur:\n\nyasyaḥ kadāpi vasanañchala khelanottha-  \ndhanyātidhanya-pavenena kṛtārthamānī  \nyogīndra-durgama-gatir madhusūdano 'pi  \ntasyāḥ namo 'stu vṛṣabhānubhuvo diśe 'pi\n\n(Rādhā-rasa-sudhā-nidhi: 2)\n\nThis is Prabodhānanda Saraswatī's praṇām mantram for Rādhārāṇī. In this verse he expresses, \"When Kṛṣṇa feels the breeze of Rādhārāṇī's sari as She distributes food to Kṛṣṇa and His friends, Kṛṣṇa feels, 'I am fully satisfied'. Dhanyātidhanya-pavenena kṛtārthamānī: just by feeling the breeze of Rādhārāṇī's sari Kṛṣṇa feels, 'I am so fortunate. I am fully satisfied'. Yogīndra-durgama-gatir Madhusūdano 'pi: all the munis, ṛṣis, and yogīs—everyone—are trying to get the dust of Kṛṣṇa's lotus feet, but Kṛṣṇa thinks, 'The breeze from Rādhārāṇī's cloth gives Me full nourishment'.\"\n\nKṛṣṇa is Svayam Bhagavān, the Supreme Personality of Godhead:\n\nīśvaraḥ paramaḥ kṛṣṇaḥ sach-chid-ānanda-vigrahaḥ  \nanādir ādir govindaḥ sarva-kāraṇa-kāraṇam\n\n(Śrī Brahma-saṁhitā: 5.1)\n\nKṛṣṇa is not only an īśvar; He is the Parameśvar, who is the origin of everything, the Creator of all creation, and the universally worshippable, eternal Lord. Yet Kṛṣṇa thinks, \"Oh ho! I am very fortunate that I have felt the breeze from Rādhārāṇī's cloth.\"\n\nWhen we understand the identity of Kṛṣṇa and we hear that Kṛṣṇa is becoming maddened by feeling the breeze of Rādhārāṇī's sari, then we can understand something about Rādhārāṇī. We can understand that Kṛṣṇa gets full satisfaction from Her, and that no one can satisfy Kṛṣṇa the way She can. We can also understand that even Kṛṣṇa Himself wants to serve Rādhārāṇī. So Rādhārāṇī's position is supreme.\n\nPrabodhānanda Saraswatī has also given us a very helpful caution in his verse: \"We are not so expert. We are not qualified to take the Name of Rādhārāṇī. Actually we are not qualified to think about Her divine Pastimes with Kṛṣṇa. But what we can do is pay our daṇḍavat praṇām to the direction of Varshana, where Rādhārāṇī appeared and played in Her early age.\"\n\nThe queen of Kṛṣṇa's homeland\n\nWe can also understand how high and exalted the position and Name of Rādhārāṇī are through Śrīmad Bhāgavatam. Śukadev Goswāmī did not want to take the Name of Rādhārāṇī in the public meeting described in Śrīmad Bhāgavatam because he understood that the ṛṣis there were not qualified to hear Her Name. Śukadev Goswāmī heard Rādhārāṇī's glories from his Gurudev, Vedavyās, and through that he understood everything. But he did not want to give that knowledge to the ṛṣis in the public meeting. Ātreya Ṛṣi and many great, stalwart ṛṣis were there.\n\natrir vaśiṣṭhaś chyavanaḥ śaradvān  \nariṣṭanemir bhṛgur aṅgirāś cha  \nparāśaro gādhi-suto 'tha rāma  \ndvaipāyano bhagavān nāradaś cha\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam: 1.19.9–10)\n\nAll the dignitaries of the spiritual world were seated there: Śukadev Goswāmī's grandfather, Parāśar, Śukadev's father, Vedavyās, Nārad Ṛṣi, and so many others. Everyone was present for the meeting during Parīkṣit Mahārāj's final seven days. There Śukadev Goswāmī expressed everything, but He did not take the Name of Rādhārāṇī because He did not want to expose the harem of Kṛṣṇa in the middle of that meeting. Not everyone there could properly understand Kṛṣṇa's private life. To protect them from making any offences he did not take the Name of Rādhārāṇī.\n\nRādhārāṇī's position is supreme, but She is only known to those who have consciousness about Kṛṣṇa's private life. Kṛṣṇa is famous everywhere; everyone all over the world has heard of Kṛṣṇa. But only in Vṛndāvan will you hear the Name of Rādhārāṇī everywhere. If you go to Vṛndāvan even today, you will find that you will not hear the Name of Kṛṣṇa so much. There everyone only calls, \"Rādhe Rādhe! Rādhe Rādhe!\" Everywhere you go in Vṛndāvan you will hear, \"Rādhe Rādhe!\"\n\nVṛndāvan is Rādhārāṇī's zone, and there everyone always sings Her glories. Kṛṣṇa's position is secondary there. Kṛṣṇa is like a big administrator; He is known far and wide. But Rādhārāṇī is the Mistress of His private life, and She is supreme within Kṛṣṇa's homeland of Vṛndāvan.\n\nThe controller of Kṛṣṇa's heart\n\nRādhārāṇī and Kṛṣṇa's relationship is completely transcendental. We cannot understand Their intimate Pastimes from our mundane position. So we do not show our mood of devotion for Them as though we are residents of Vṛndāvan. Rather we respect Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa-līlā from the proper distance.\n\nbrahmā śiva nārada śruti nārāyaṇī  \nrādhikā-pada-raja pūjaye māni'\n\n(Gītāvalī: Rādhāṣṭakam, 8.6)\n\nŚukadev, Śiva, Brahmā, Nārad—all the great persons in Śrīmad Bhāgavatam—worship Rādhārāṇī, but we always feel from them some caution: \"You can worship Rādhārāṇī, but be careful.\"\n\nŚrīla Guru Mahārāj fully explained the glorious and worshippable position of Rādhārāṇī very carefully and cleverly through his verse about Śrīmad Bhāgavatam:\n\nyad amiya-mahimā-śrī-bhāgavatyāḥ kathāyāṁ  \npratipadam anubhūtaṁ chāpy alabdhābhidheyā  \ntad akhila-rasa-mūrteḥ śyāma-līlāvalambaṁ  \nmadhura-rasadhī-rādhā-pāda-padmaṁ prapadye\n\n(Śrīla Bhakti Rakṣak Śrīdhar Dev-Goswāmī Mahārāj)\n\n\"Every word in Śrīmad Bhāgavatam glorifies Rādhārāṇī, but Her Name is not specifically taken there. Kṛṣṇa is the Akhila-rasāmṛta-mūrti, the emporium of all rasa, and Rādhārāṇī is Śyāma-līlāvilamba, the reservoir in which Kṛṣṇa plays and tastes the full ecstasy of madhura-rasa. Rādhārāṇī is the controller of Kṛṣṇa's heart, the madhura-rasa adhikāriṇī. Her service is the source of all of Śrī Kṛṣṇa's madhura-rasa prema.\"\nChapter Nineteen   \nThe Next Edition of Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa's Pastimes\n\nDivine love for the Supreme Personality of Godhead is the supreme wealth and goal of our lives (premā pumartho mahān). Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu preached this conception all over India, and now it has spread all over the world. Through that divine love everyone will get entrance into the Lord's divine abode, Śvetadwīp, which has two divisions: the mādhurya-līlā of the Divine Couple Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa in Vṛndāvan and the audārya-līlā of Gaurāṅga Mahāprabhu in Nabadwīp. Mahāprabhu Śrī Chaitanya Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa nahe anya: Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu is nondifferent from Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa. He also has His own divine realm in the transcendental world, where He lives eternally with His associates and engages in inconceivable Pastimes of divine love.\n\nThe twofold appearance of Kṛṣṇa\n\nŚrīmad Bhāgavatam, Śrī Brahma-saṁhitā, and other scriptures have described for everyone in this world Kṛṣṇa's divine appearance and mādhurya-līlā in Vṛndāvan.\n\naṣṭāviṁśa chatur-yuge dvāparera śeṣe  \nvrajera sahite haya kṛṣṇera prakāśe\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Ādi-līlā, 3.10)\n\n\"At the end of the Dvāpar-yuga in the twenty-eighth millennium of Vaivasvata Manu, Svayam Bhagavān Śrī Kṛṣṇa appears in this world with His eternal abode, Vṛndāvan.\"\n\nīśvaraḥ paramaḥ kṛṣṇaḥ sach-chid-ānanda-vigrahaḥ  \nanādir ādir govindaḥ sarva-kāraṇa-kāraṇam\n\n(Śrī Brahma-saṁhitā: 5.1)\n\nSvayam Bhagavān Kṛṣṇa means 'He who is the origin of everything transcendental and mundane', 'the cause of all causes', the 'Supreme Personality of Godhead'. This Svayam Bhagavān Kṛṣṇa appeared five thousand years ago and showed His mādhurya-līlā to the world. Then He withdrew with His associates, abode, paraphernalia, and so on.\n\nWhen Kṛṣṇa appeared in this world, two forms actually appeared within Him.\n\nkṛṣṇo 'nyo yadu-sambhūto yaḥ pūrṇaḥ so 'sty ataḥ paraḥ  \nvṛndāvanaṁ parityajya sa kvachin naiva gachchhati\n\n(Śrī Laghu-bhāgavatāmṛta: Pūrva-khaṇḍa, 165)\n\nŚrīla Rūpa Goswāmī Prabhu explained that one form was the Yuga-avatār (the Avatār for the age), who came to demolish the demoniac activity going on and harmonise everything on the earth. The other form was Svayam Bhagavān Śrī Kṛṣṇa Himself, who lives eternally in Vṛndāvan Dhām as the ever-playful Reality the Beautiful. That Svayam Bhagavān Kṛṣṇa is actually Avatārī Kṛṣṇa, the original Kṛṣṇa, who is the source of all Avatārs (sarva-kāraṇa-kāraṇam). During His Pastimes on earth, the Yuga-avatār form of Kṛṣṇa came out of Vṛndāvan to fulfil His mission on the planet, but the original Kṛṣṇa, Svayam Bhagavān Kṛṣṇa—Īśvaraḥ Paramaḥ Kṛṣṇaḥ—never took one step out of Vṛndāvan. He stayed in Vṛndāvan through His Pastimes of union in separation with His devotees in Vraja Dhām. Then, when His Pastimes with the residents of Vṛndāvan and the Pastimes of the Dvāpar-yuga Avatār were completed, that original Kṛṣṇa, with His Yuga-avatār form, withdrew from the universe.\n\nLove and magnanimity\n\nAfter the appearance of Kṛṣṇa the time came on the earth for the Kali-yuga-avatār, the Avatār who distributes the dharma of the Age of Kali: Hari-nām-saṅkīrtan. At that time the Lord appeared as Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu.\n\nśrī kṛṣṇa chaitanya prabhu jīve dayā kari  \nsva-parṣada svīya dhāma saha avatari\n\n(Śaraṇāgati: 1.1)\n\nŚrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu descended from the transcendental world with His associates and divine abode. He revealed His audārya-līlā and bestowed His mercy upon all the fortunate souls of this world. But like Kṛṣṇa, inside Mahāprabhu there are two forms: one is the Yuga-avatār, who came to distribute Hari-nām-saṅkīrtan, and the other is Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa-milita-tanu: Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa combined—Avatārī Kṛṣṇa manifest with the heart and halo of His eternal consort, Rādhārāṇī.\n\nThe Lord's audārya-līlā (Pastimes of magnanimity), give the jīva-souls entrance into His mādhurya-līlā (Pastimes of sweetness). As Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu, the Lord could show His Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa-līlā like a jewel; He could reveal all of its facets and glory. During His appearance as Kṛṣṇa, the Lord enjoyed His mādhurya-līlā personally; He did not distribute entrance into His mādhurya-līlā to the jīva-souls. But in His audārya-līlā as Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu, the Lord actively distributes His mādhurya-līlā everywhere. Because of this Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu's audārya-līlā is honoured by the devotees as more than Kṛṣṇa's līlā.\n\nŚrīmad Bhāgavatam describes how Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu distributes Himself and His gift of Kṛṣṇa-prema, as well as how He gives the souls entrance into His mādhurya-līlā.\n\nkṛṣṇa-varṇaṁ tviṣākṛṣṇaṁ sāṅgopāṅgāstra-pārṣadam  \nyajñaiḥ saṅkīrtana-prāyair yajanti hi sumedhasaḥ\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam: 11.5.32)\n\n\"Kṛṣṇa will take form as Lord Gaurāṅga to distribute divine love and His divine form through His Divine Name. He will distribute everything through the saṅkīrtan mahāyajñā, the great sacrifice of chanting the Lord's Holy Names in congregation. He will be Kṛṣṇa-varṇaṁ tviṣākṛṣṇam: He will always chant the Holy Name 'Kṛṣṇa', and His form will have a golden effulgence. Sāṅgopāṅgāstra pārṣadam yajñaiḥ saṅkīrtana: with His associates—Nityānanda Prabhu, Advaita Āchārya, Gadādhar Paṇḍit, Śrīvās Ṭhākur, and so on—He will chant, dance, and engage everyone in the sacrifice of Hari-nām-saṅkīrtan. Yajanti hi sumedhasaḥ: all the fortunate souls will practise the procedure He distributes and feel Kṛṣṇa-prema in their hearts.\"\n\nMeeting with Rāmānanda Rāy\n\nDuring His Pastimes, Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu first revealed His true identity as Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa combined to His dear devotee Rāmānanda Rāy on the bank of the Godāvarī River. Mahāprabhu chose to bestow His divine mercy upon all conditioned souls through Rāmānanda Rāy. Within their conversation, which you can find in Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta, Madhya-līlā, Chapter 8, the full conception and gift that Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu came to give to the world is presented. Everything is explained there. If you read it, then you will understand how people will enter Kṛṣṇa consciousness, how they will proceed in their practising life, how they will offer themselves to Kṛṣṇa, amd how Kṛṣṇa will accept their service—you will understand everything.\n\nIn the final portion of their meeting, Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu revealed His internal identity and hidden Pastimes to Rāmānanda Rāy. Mahāprabhu began their conversation by asking Rāmānanda, \"Paḍa śloka sādhyera nirṇaya (Cc: Madhya, 8.57): please recite a verse that reveals the ultimate goal of our lives.\"\n\nRāmānanda replied with a verse, but Mahāprabhu said, \"Eho bāhya, āge kaha āra: this is external. Go deeper.\"\n\nRāmānanda recited another verse, but Mahāprabhu rejected it: \"Oh! You are cheating Me! Eho bāhya, āge kaha āra: this is not the answer. Tell Me more.\"\n\nMahāprabhu rejected one, two, three, four answers of Rāmānanda in this way: \"Eho bāhya, āge kaha āra: this is not appropriate. You know more, so tell Me more.\"\n\nBy rejecting his verses Mahāprabhu was teaching Rāmānanda, but Rāmānanda was also testing Mahāprabhu. Rāmānanda was suspicious about whether a sannyāsī would accept Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa-līlā as supreme, and did not want to mention it right away. He first glorified varṇāśram-dharma, and other elementary stages.\n\nIn this way Mahāprabhu examined Rāmānanda, and Rāmānanda examined Mahāprabhu. Finally, when they found very good relations between each other, they discussed the very essence of Kṛṣṇa consciousness. Rāmānanda described and supported rāga-mārg-sevā to Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa as supreme and Mahāprabhu was very, very happy. Rāmānanda said, \"I̐hāra madhye Rādhāra prema—'sādhya-śiromaṇi': real service to Kṛṣṇa is given by Rādhārāṇī, and Rādhārāṇī's prema, which is the greatest amongst all the gopīs, is the topmost perfection.\"\n\nMahāprabhu was so satisfied to hear this, and after Rāmānanda described many things about Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa's madhura-rasa-līlā, He said, \"Yes. What you are describing is supreme, but is there anything more?\"\n\nRāmānanda replied, \"I cannot conceive that anyone could ask about anything more than this. I cannot find any verses from the scriptures that go beyond this, but if You like, You can hear something from me that may be satisfying to You.\" Then Rāmānanda began to recite one of his own compositions:\n\npahilehi rāga nayana-bhaṅge bhela  \nanudina bāḍhala, avadhi nā gela  \nnā so ramaṇa, nā hāma ramaṇī  \ndu̐hu-mana manobhava peṣala jāni'\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Madhya-līlā, 8.193)\n\nThis is the most extreme expression of madhura-rasa, and Mahāprabhu finally covered Rāmānanda's mouth with His own hand when He heard this expression. In this way, lastly, Rāmānanda surrendered to Mahāprabhu, and Mahāprabhu surrendered to Rāmānanda.\n\nBewildered by love\n\nStudent: Can you explain a little bit about Rāmānanda Rāy's poem? Is it impossible for us to understand?\n\nŚrīla Govinda Mahārāj: It is not for public discussion actually. That poem is Rāmānanda Rāy's highest answer to Mahāprabhu's question about the goal of life. Chaṇḍī Dās also gave us one of Rādhārāṇī's songs:\n\nkebā sunāila śyāma-nāma  \nkānera bhitara diyā, marame paśila go,  \nākula karila mama prāṇa\n\nnā jāni kateka madhu, śyāma-nāme āchhe go,  \nparāṇa chhāḍite nāhi pāre  \njapite, japite nāma, avaśa karila go,   \nkemane pāiba sai, tāre\n\nnāma-paratape yāra, aichhana karila go,  \naṅgera paraśe kibā haya  \nyekhāne vasati tāra, nayane heriyā go  \nyuvatī dharama kaichhe raya\n\npāśarite kari mane, pāśarā na yāya go,  \nki kāribe ki habe upāya  \nkahe dvija chaṇḍī-dāse, kulavatī kula-nāśe,  \nāpanāra yauvana yāchāya\n\nAfter hearing Kṛṣṇa's Name Rādhārāṇī is moved. Inspiration to dedicate oneself comes through Kṛṣṇa's Name. That is the meaning of this song.\n\nIn Rāmānanda Rāy's song Rādhārāṇī says, \"When Kṛṣṇa and I first saw each other, We became attracted to each other.\" Kṛṣṇa is naturally attracted to Rādhārāṇī, and Rādhārāṇī is naturally attracted to Kṛṣṇa. The Power and Powerful cannot be differentiated, yet Kṛṣṇa is the Powerful, and Rādhārāṇī is the Power. They exist eternally in two forms, but They can become so attracted to one another that They cannot differentiate Themselves from one another. This song explains that this situation comes to Them. Rādhārāṇī wonders, \"How is it that Kṛṣṇa is in Mathurā and I am here?\" She tells a friend, \"Today this situation has come: I cannot differentiate Myself from Kṛṣṇa. So, I am sending you as an ambassador to Kṛṣṇa to ask Him, 'What is this? Is this real love? Real attachment?'\"\n\nMany things are inside this song of Rāmānanda Rāy. Rādhārāṇī wonders, \"I do not know if I am woman and Kṛṣṇa is man, or I am man and Kṛṣṇa is woman. What is the truth? I have forgotten everything because such strong love, beauty, and charm have taken possession of Me.\"\n\nStudent: Are you saying the conclusion is that Rādhā and Kṛṣṇa's identities merge?\n\nŚrīla Govinda Mahārāj: So many things are inside this song, but they are not for public discussion. Here māyāvādīs take the opportunity to say, \"That is our situation\", but it is not. Simply we can say that strong love and affection can make a person blind and unable to see anything except some positive light, just as very bright light blinds the eye.\n\nŚrīman Mahāprabhu's hidden identity\n\nAfter hearing from Rāmānanda Rāy, Mahāprabhu was so happy that He could not hide His internal form from Rāmānanda. When their discourses were almost finished, Rāmānanda became very surprised by how Mahāprabhu's divine form appeared to him. He knew what he was seeing, but he could not believe it. He asked Mahāprabhu:\n\npahile dekhilu̐ tomāra sannyāsi-svarūpa  \nebe tomā dekhi muñi śyāma-gopa-rūpa  \ntomāra sammukhe dekhi kāñchana-pañchālikā  \ntā̐ra gaura-kāntye tomāra sarva aṅga ḍhākā\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Madhya-līlā, 8.268–269)\n\n\"Prabhu, what is this? What am I seeing? It is Your form, but I cannot believe it. At first I saw You as a sannyāsī, a glorious sannyāsī no doubt. But now I am not seeing You as only a sannyāsī: inside You I am seeing Kṛṣṇa Himself, and He appears to have the heart of Rādhārāṇī and to be covered by Her halo. What is this?\"\n\nMahāprabhu first tried to hide Himself from Rāmānanda. Mahāprabhu said, \"Oh! You are a great Kṛṣṇa-bhakta! You have so much love for Kṛṣṇa that you see Kṛṣṇa's presence everywhere. Now you are looking at Me, and because you see Kṛṣṇa everywhere, you are seeing Me as Kṛṣṇa. Why would you not see Kṛṣṇa within Me?\"\n\nRāmānanda Rāy replied very strongly:\n\nrāya kahe,—prabhu tumi chhāḍa bhāri-bhūri  \nmora āge nija-rūpa nā kariha churi\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Madhya-līlā, 8.278)\n\n\"Prabhu, why are You trying to cheat me? I understand who You are; You cannot hide Your identity from Me. I can see that You are the divine form of Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa combined, and it is not an illusion. Please do not cheat me. Tell me the truth. You have come here to see me and show me Your divine form. Why are You now hiding Yourself?\"\n\nMahāprabhu said, \"Bhakti-bale pāra tumi brahmāṇḍa śodhite: you know everything; what can I say? The power of your devotion can purify the whole universe. You are My very exclusive devotee, and I cannot hide Myself in front of you. Really, I am what you are seeing.\"\n\ntabe hāsi' tā̐re prabhu dekhāila svarūpa  \n'rasa-rāja', 'mahābhāva'—dui eka rūpa\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Madhya-līlā, 8.282)\n\nMahāprabhu smiled and showed Rāmānanda His full divine form as Rasarāj-Mahābhāva—Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa—combined: as the emporium of all rasa combined with the reservoir of all divine ecstasy.\n\ndekhi' rāmānanda hailā ānande mūrchchhite  \ndharite nā pāre deha, paḍilā bhūmite\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Madhya-līlā, 8.283)\n\nWhen Rāmānanda saw Mahāprabhu's form as Kṛṣṇa fully manifested with Rādhārāṇī's heart and halo, he could not stand; he fainted to the ground unconscious. Mahāprabhu touched Rāmānanda's body, and Rāmānanda returned to his normal consciousness. Rāmānanda then saw Mahāprabhu as a sannyāsī again and became puzzled. Mahāprabhu said,\n\nāmi—eka bātula, tumi—dvitīya bātula  \nataeva tomāya āmāya ha-i sama-tula\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Madhya-līlā, 8.291)\n\n\"I am crazy, and you are also crazy. No one else has seen this divine form of Mine as Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa combined, but it is My own true form. Do not tell others that you have seen this form. Keep what you have seen hidden in your heart.\"\n\nThe most merciful Avatār\n\nThe hidden treasure of Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu's divine identity first came out in this way through the heart of Rāmānanda Rāy. Later Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu fully spread this consciousness to Śrīla Rūpa Goswāmī Prabhu. Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu wanted the flow of His mercy to continue in this world after His presence here, so when Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu met Śrīla Rūpa Goswāmī in Prayag, He personally taught Śrīla Rūpa Goswāmī everything He had revealed to Rāmānanda Rāy. Later, Mahāprabhu told all His devotees, \"I have given everything to Rūpa Goswāmī.\" In this way He identified Śrīla Rūpa Goswāmī Prabhu as His successor. So there is no question whether there is a continuation of the flow of Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu's mercy.\n\nLater, by Mahāprabhu's mercy, Śrīla Rūpa Goswāmī Prabhu composed some verses which gloriously and perfectly explain Mahāprabhu's appearance and gift to the world:\n\nnamo mahā-vadānyāya kṛṣṇa-prema-pradāya te  \nkṛṣṇāya kṛṣṇa-chaitanya-nāmne gaura-tviṣe namaḥ\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Madhya-līlā, 19.53)\n\nMahā is used as a superlative in this verse: \"No one is more merciful, or has ever given more, than Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu, who appeared to distribute Kṛṣṇa-prema to everyone.\"\n\nOnly Mahāprabhu can be known as the mahāvadānya Avatār because only He has fully distributed Kṛṣṇa-prema to the world. So many forms of the Lord have appeared in the world to bless the jīva-souls. Among them Kṛṣṇa and His Vṛndāvan-līlā are supreme, but Gaurāṅga Mahāprabhu is more merciful than Kṛṣṇa. Mahāprabhu is Kṛṣṇa Himself appearing in the form of His devotee. A devotee's nature is to distribute Kṛṣṇa, and when Kṛṣṇa Himself is a devotee, then He distributes mercy to the conditioned souls in the most merciful mood. And there is no question whether He can bestow His own mercy!\n\nSometimes we see that when the government of a country changes or some very respectable persons come to a country, prisoners are released. Sometimes thousands of prisoners are released. Similarly, when Kṛṣṇa appears as a devotee, everything changes, and He freely gives the souls His full mercy. He can give Himself, and there can be no opposition to that by any law. So Mahāprabhu Śrī Chaitanyadev is the supreme giver of His own self, and by His merciful appearance all souls can receive the supreme spiritual fortune: Kṛṣṇa-prema.\n\nDistributing pure love\n\nThe souls of this Kali-yuga are so fortunate because they are receiving the most special form of mercy in a very wide way. Without Mahāprabhu it is very rare to get a connection with Kṛṣṇa and His līlā in Vṛndāvan, where He plays with the gopīs. Kṛṣṇa has so many Avatārs: Yuga-avatārs, Līlā-avatārs, Manvantār-avatārs, Śaktyāveś-avatārs, and so on. To get a connection with Kṛṣṇa in His original form, the ever-playful Sweet Absolute, who He is enjoying with the gopīs in mādhurya-līlā, is very rare. Only when Kṛṣṇa Himself wants to distribute that is it possible to enter there; only through Śrīman Mahāprabhu's audārya-līlā can we enter Kṛṣṇa's mādhurya-līlā.\n\nIn a more exclusive way we can say that Kṛṣṇa does not have full right to distribute Himself or entrance into His Pastimes. Only Kṛṣṇa's chief potency, Śrīmatī Rādhārāṇī, who has 'all rights reserved' over Kṛṣṇa, can fully distribute Kṛṣṇa and Kṛṣṇa-prema. When Kṛṣṇa appears as Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu, with the heart and halo of His supreme devotee, Rādhārāṇī, He has the opportunity to distribute Himself, that is, Rādhārāṇī distributes Her own divine mood of ecstatic love for Kṛṣṇa.\n\nThe mood of a devotee is to always distribute, and Rādhārāṇī is always merciful. She does not want to taste the sweetness of Kṛṣṇa's Pastimes alone. Ānuṣaṅge prema-maya kaile tribhuvana (Cc: Madhya, 8.280): Mahāprabhu, as Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa combined, could not hide His mood; He distributed Kṛṣṇa-prema to everyone, and for that He is truly the supremely merciful form of the Lord (the mahāvadānya Avatār). The Lord proved that He is infinitely merciful and that He attracts all souls and fills their hearts with ecstasy (Kṛṣṇa-prema) by appearing as Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu.\n\nThe golden gift of the golden Lord\n\nMahāprabhu appeared as the Yuga-avatār to rescue the conditioned souls through Hari-nām-saṅkīrtan. This is the external cause of His appearance, but there is also some speciality within that. Mahāprabhu is the combined form of Rādhārāṇī and the Supreme Personality of Godhead, Kṛṣṇa. When He comes in that way, the power of His gift in saṅkīrtan is much more than that of a general Yuga-avatār, who comes in other Kali-yugas to spread the yuga-dharma. If normally someone would feel 10 per cent of the power of saṅkīrtan, then they will feel 50 per cent or 100 per cent of Hari-nām-saṅkīrtan's power when it is distributed by Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu.\n\nŚrīla Rūpa Goswāmī Prabhu described the gift which Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu distributed with His supreme power:\n\nanarpita-charīṁ chirāt karuṇayāvatīrṇaḥ kalau  \nsamarpayitum unnatojjvala-rasāṁ sva-bhakti-śriyam  \nhariḥ puraṭa-sundara-dyuti-kadamba-sandīpitaḥ  \nsadā hṛdaya-kandare sphuratu vaḥ śachī-nandanaḥ\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Ādi-līlā, 1.4)\n\nAnarpita-charīṁ chirāt karuṇayāvatīrṇaḥ kalau: so many forms of the Lord have appeared in this world—Matsya, Kūrma, Vāman, Balarām, Kṛṣṇa, and so on—and so many previous Yuga-avatārs have appeared to fulfil Their purposes. But in this Kali-yuga, Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu has given the world the most hidden treasure that has never been given before by anyone at any time anywhere.\n\nSamarpayitum unnatojjvala-rasāṁ sva-bhakti-śriyam: Mahāprabhu not only gave the greatest mercy to the souls, with the greatest power through saṅkīrtan, He also gave them the highest possible attainment: the supreme process of serving the Lord. Unnatojjvala-rasām means the most elevated rasa: madhura-rasa. Mahāprabhu gave souls entrance into that most elevated type of love, attachment, and service. The five rasas—śānta, dāsya, sakhya, vātsalya, and madhura—are compared to types of metals: copper, silver, gold, and so on. Gold holds the highest rank, and Mahāprabhu Śrī Gaurāṅgadev, the golden Avatār, who appeared in Rādhārāṇī's golden colour, gave the highest, golden rasa of madhura-rasa.\n\nHariḥ puraṭa-sundara-dyuti-kadamba-sandīpitaḥ: throughout His Pastimes the condensed brightness of Mahāprabhu's beautiful golden form appeared more exalted than freshly cut, glimmering gold.\n\nSadā hṛdaya-kandare sphuratu vaḥ Śachī-nandanaḥ: we pray that the golden Lord Śrī Gaurāṅgadev may reveal His full golden form and golden gift in our hearts.\n\nIt was only possible for the Lord to show the exclusive and supreme position of extreme paramour love in madhura-rasa, in His Pastimes as Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu. Only when the Lord appeared with Rādhārāṇī's heart and halo, with Her ati-gūḍha mahābhāva (most confidential ecstatic love) could the glory of madhura-rasa be fully revealed. The other Kali-yuga-avatārs do not appear with Rādhārāṇī's heart and halo; the other Kali-yuga-avatārs distribute Hari-nām-saṅkīrtan, but they do not taste Rādhārāṇī's love for Kṛṣṇa internally. Only in Svayam Bhagavān Kṛṣṇa's special appearance as Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu does the Lord engage in those Pastimes. He does that for Himself, for His own interest, but at the same time the souls in this Kali-yuga become most fortunate.\n\nRādhā-Kṛṣṇa's glory\n\nWe can truly understand the identity of Kṛṣṇa, the Supreme Personality of Godhead, who is ever-playful in Vṛndāvan with His flute and the gopas and gopīs, through the appearance of Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu.\n\nsarvādbhuta-chamatkāra-līlā-kallola-vāridhiḥ  \natulya-madhura-prema-maṇḍita-priya-maṇḍalaḥ  \ntri-jagan-mānasākarṣi-muralī-kala-kūjitaḥ  \nasamānordhva-rūpa-śrī-vismāpita-charācharaḥ\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Madhya-līlā, 23.82–83)\n\n\"Kṛṣṇa's divine Pastimes astonish everyone, His mādhurya-līlā is supreme, His flute melts everyone's heart, and His divine form's beauty is incomparable.\"\n\nThese are the most exalted glories of Kṛṣṇa's Vṛndāvan-līlā. Everyone is astonished by Kṛṣṇa: Nārāyaṇ, Baladev, and even Kṛṣṇa Himself. That is why Kṛṣṇa-līlā is supreme. Kṛṣṇa Himself is enchanted by His own Pastimes, and He proved this by appearing as Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu.\n\nŚrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu's appearance also shows Rādhārāṇī's supreme position. When Kṛṣṇa wanted to appear to taste Himself fully, He did so by taking Rādhārāṇī's heart. We can understand through Kṛṣṇa's choice that Rādhārāṇī must have the topmost devotion for Kṛṣṇa. Beyond this we can also understand that Her devotion makes Her position even higher than Kṛṣṇa's because He desired to taste Her mood.\n\nŚrīla Svarūp Dāmodar has described these confidential aspects of Mahāprabhu's appearance:\n\nśrī-rādhāyāḥ praṇaya-mahimā kīdṛśo vānayaivā-  \nsvādyo yenādbhuta-madhurimā kīdṛśo vā madīyaḥ  \nsaukhyaṁ chāsyā mad-anubhavataḥ kīdṛśaṁ veti lobhāt  \ntad-bhāvāḍhyaḥ samajani śachī-garbha-sindhau harīnduḥ\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Ādi-līlā, 1.6)\n\n\"When Kṛṣṇa wanted to know how deeply Kṛṣṇa-prema is present within Rādhārāṇī's heart, how much She tastes Him, how She serves Him, how She feels separation from Him—when Kṛṣṇa wanted to know everything in this way—He appeared from the ocean of Mother Śachī Devī's womb as Harīndu: the golden moon Śrī Gaurāṅga. With the stolen heart and halo of Rādhārāṇī Kṛṣṇa engaged in tasting Rādhārāṇī's ecstasy (mahābhāva).\"\n\nWhen the Sweet Absolute wanted to taste His own super-sweetness, His own loving mood, and the supreme love expanded from Goloka Vṛndāvan, He manifested in the form of Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu. This is the only way Kṛṣṇa could taste Himself fully. Rādhārāṇī has the highest mood of devotion, and without Her mood He could not taste Himself fully.\n\nLoving affairs\n\nIf we want to try to understand the supreme position of Rādhārāṇī's devotional mood, which Mahāprabhu appeared to taste, then we must understand something about the loving affairs of Rādhārāṇī and Kṛṣṇa. Rādhārāṇī and Kṛṣṇa lived together in Their youth in Vṛndāvan, enjoying the play of Their intimate love. Eventually Kṛṣṇa, externally, left to protect Vṛndāvan and fulfil His mission as the Yuga-avatār. For Rādhārāṇī, both Kṛṣṇa's Vṛndāvan-līlā and His Mathurā-līlā—His līlā outside of Vṛndāvan—are filled with mahābhāva, supreme ecstasy.\n\nAfter Kṛṣṇa left Vṛndāvan, Rādhārāṇī felt unlimited separation from Him. During Her separation from Kṛṣṇa the depths of Her ecstatic love were revealed. And Kṛṣṇa, wanting to know the depth of the love for Him which She felt in separation, appeared as Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu.\n\nRādhārāṇī felt many different types of separation from Kṛṣṇa, and those moods have been expressed by different Vaiṣṇava poets. Śrīla Bilvamaṅgal Ṭhākur wrote,\n\ntvach-chhaiśavaṁ tri-bhuvanādbhutam ity avehi  \nmach-chāpalaṁ cha tava vā mama vādhigamyam  \ntat kiṁ karomi viralaṁ muralī-vilāsi  \nmugdhaṁ mukhāmbujam udīkṣitum īkṣaṇābhyām\n\n(Śrī Kṛṣṇa-karṇāmṛta: 32)\n\nŚrīla Kṛṣṇadās Kavirāj Goswāmī translated into Bengali this verse from Kṛṣṇa-karṇāmṛta which expresses Rādhārāṇī's feelings of separation from Kṛṣṇa:\n\ntomāra mādhurī-bala, tāte mora chāpala,  \nei dui, tumi āmi jāni  \nkāhā̐ karo̐ kāhā̐ yāṅ, kāhā̐ gele tomā pāṅ,  \ntāhā more kaha ta' āpani\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Madhya-līlā, 2.62)\n\n\"The attractive power of Your sweetness, the wonder of Your Pastimes, and Your flute-playing in Your youth are impossible to imagine. How much My activity mixed with Your activity in Our youth is known only to You and somewhat to Me. Only You and I know how We played together during Our youth. No one else can understand this. What right or wrong We have done, what good or bad We have done in Our youth, that even We cannot understand. But it has happened. We did not know then how I became attracted to You and how You became attracted to Me. Now those days have passed, and with the property of Our relationship in My heart, I am feeling separation from You which is too painful for Me. What shall I do now?\"\n\nRādhārāṇī's deepest mood of separation from Kṛṣṇa is called vipralambha: union in separation. We cannot express this type of separation. We do not know how to express this type of separation, and our language will never be sufficient to express it. But we can express something that we have heard from Śrīla Guru Mahārāj.\n\nWithin the deepest friendship, the deepest relationship in madhura-rasa with Kṛṣṇa, Rādhārāṇī felt separation from Kṛṣṇa to be like a fire-bed. Vipralambha means the most extreme mood of separation. After Kṛṣṇa left Vṛndāvan Dhām, Rādhārāṇī tasted that most extreme sentiment: union in separation.\n\nsthāvara-jaṅgama dekhe, nā dekhe tāra mūrti  \nsarvatra haya tā̐ra iṣṭa-deva-sphūrti\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Madhya-līlā, 8.274)\n\nIn the mood of vipralambha, when Rādhārāṇī was separate from Kṛṣṇa, She would see Kṛṣṇa in front of Her, all around Her—everywhere—and try to embrace Him.\n\nkṛṣṇa-mayī—kṛṣṇa yā̐ra bhitare bāhire  \nyā̐hā yā̐hā netra paḍe tā̐hā kṛṣṇa sphure\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Ādi-līlā, 4.85)\n\nEverywhere Rādhārāṇī would see Kṛṣṇa with Her. When She would go for a walk She would see Kṛṣṇa all around Her, and everywhere She would try to embrace Him. She would be separate from Kṛṣṇa but feel filled with Kṛṣṇa's presence. From moment to moment She would feel Kṛṣṇa's presence and then feel separate from Him. Every day, all the time, union with Kṛṣṇa would come to Her and then leave Her. Lastly, She would think Kṛṣṇa was only a dream, feel hopeless, and show Herself in the most helpless way. Rādhārāṇī's love for Kṛṣṇa is most rare and exists only in Goloka Vṛndāvan. Her prema is known as ati-gūḍha mahābhāva, the most confidential form of ecstatic love.\n\nThe extremes of separation\n\nŚrīmatī Rādhārāṇī's most extreme mood of vipralambha is expressed in this verse,\n\nayi dīna-dayārdra-nātha he  \nmathurā-nātha kadāvalokyase  \nhṛdayaṁ tvad-aloka-kātaraṁ  \ndayita bhrāmyati kiṁ karomy aham\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Madhya-līlā, 4.197)\n\nHer mood here is like someone who was extremely wealthy but has lost all of Her wealth and now has no property at all. Ayi Dīna-dayārdra-nātha he: She cannot feel Her own property and calls out to Kṛṣṇa as though She is very, very poor.\n\ndevī kṛṣṇa-mayī proktā rādhikā para-devatā  \nsarva-lakṣmī-mayī sarva-kāntiḥ sammohinī parā\n\n(Bṛhad-Gautamīya-tantra)\n\nRādhārāṇī is the supreme proprietor of everything—love, beauty, charm, attachment, wealth, and so on—but in separation from Kṛṣṇa She feels She has nothing. She cannot feel Her own wealth because of the intensity of Her feelings of separation from Kṛṣṇa. She gives up everything and expresses Her feelings to Kṛṣṇa: \"You are My dearmost, and I cannot tolerate Your separation. But I cannot say that fully because I am not getting any hope from You. My dear friend, You have not given Me the wealth of any hope. Ayi Dīna-dayārdra-nātha: You are merciful to those who are very poor. Can't You see Me in front of You? I am very, very poor!\n\n\"O Mathurānāth, before You were Vṛndāvaneśvar [the Lord of Vṛndāvan]. You were Rāseśvar [the enjoyer of the rāsa dance]. You were Rādhā Ramaṇ [He who pleases Rādhā]. You filled My heart with joy in Our intimate relationship. You were fully present in Your Vṛndāvan-līlā with Myself and all the Vraja-gopīs. But now You have left and become the king of Mathurā Maṇḍal. Now You are Mathurānāth, the Lord of Mathurā. You are no longer Vṛndāvannāth, the Lord of Vṛndāvan. What can I say? Kadāvalokyase: I want to see You. At least I want to see You. Hṛdayaṁ Tvad-aloka-kātaram: not seeing You has given so much pain to Me, to My heart. Dayita bhrāmyati kiṁ karomy Aham: what shall I do now? I do not know. I feel there is nothing I can do, but I also cannot tolerate Your separation. Feeling such extreme separation from You, I cannot leave My body, but I also cannot stay within My body.\" This verse is the heart-expression of Rādhārāṇī.\n\nmahābhāva-svarūpā śrī-rādhā-ṭhākurāṇī  \nsarva-guṇa-khani kṛṣṇa-kāntā-śiromaṇi\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta, Ādi-līlā, 4.69)\n\n\"Rādhārāṇī is Mahābhāva Herself, the supreme servitor of Kṛṣṇa.\"\n\nWho can express what is in Her heart? Who can feel and express Rādhārāṇī's deepest, hopeless mood of separation?\n\nei śloka kahiyāchhena rādhā-ṭhākurāṇī  \ntā̐ra kṛpāya sphuriyāchhe mādhavendra-vāṇī\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Madhya-līlā, 4.194)\n\nOnly She Herself could reveal the full depth of Her separation from Kṛṣṇa. By Her grace only, Her feelings manifested in this world through the heart of Mādhavendra Purī. Mādhavendra Purī tasted Rādhārāṇī's ecstatic mood of separation through this verse, ayi Dīna-dayārdra-nātha he, as he departed from this world.\n\nśeṣa-kāle ei śloka paṭhite paṭhite  \nsiddhi-prāpti haila purīra ślokera sahite\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Madhya-līlā, 4.196)\n\nWhen Mādhavendra Purī was leaving his body he constantly recited this verse and expressed its meaning. Later, Mahāprabhu Śrī Chaitanyadev tasted Rādhārāṇī's mood of devotion through this verse of Mādhavendra Purī. In Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta it is described that when Mahāprabhu visited the Temple of Gopīnāth in Remuna He was overcome with the mood of vipralambha expressed in this verse. He recited this verse only once or twice and then was unable to speak any further.\n\n'ayi dīna, ayi dīna' bale bāra-bāra  \nkaṇṭhe nā niḥsare vāṇī, netre aśru-dhāra\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Madhya-līlā, 4.201)\n\nHe could only say, \"Ayi dina! Ayi dina! I am so poor! I have nothing!\" Over and over again this was all He could say. Crying in this mood of vipralambha, He fainted and fell to the floor of Gopīnāth's Temple.\n\nkibā gaurachandra ihā kare āsvādana  \nihā āsvādite āra nāhi chauṭha-jana\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Madhya-līlā, 4.195)\n\n\"Mahāprabhu tasted the meaning of this verse and in that way opened the door of Kṛṣṇa-prema. No fourth man in this mundane world has tasted this verse like that. Only Rādhārāṇī, Mādhavendra Purī, and Mahāprabhu Śrī Chaitanyadev have tasted the meaning.\"\n\nThis verse and the description of its manifestation in this world is explained by Śrīla Kṛṣṇadās Kavirāj Goswāmī in his Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta, so we can also say that Kṛṣṇadās Kavirāj Goswāmī has given us this verse. He tells us that no one else can understand this verse's meaning. He means that the deepest meanings of this verse cannot be opened by anyone. But Kavirāj Goswāmī himself opened a door to this verse for us through his Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta. He did not open every door; He opened one door. Through that he gave some nourishment to others. There are many other doors to this verse, and he said, \"Now I will not say anything more. What will be will be.\" So we can say that he knows the meaning of the verse perfectly and that he is the fourth man who can taste it because he knows and is telling us that no one else can taste its meaning.\n\nWe will also say though that by the grace of Rādhārāṇī, Mādhavendra Purī, Kavirāj Goswāmī, and our Guru Mahārāj, we can feel something of this verse's meaning. Śrīla Guru Mahārāj was very much intoxicated with this verse and many times we heard from him his heart's expression of this verse. By the grace of Śrīla Guru Mahārāj we know something of what is inside this verse. But what I have explained here about this verse is, no doubt, external. It only follows the language of the verse and is an explanation of this verse's external meaning.\n\nRādhārāṇī's love and Kṛṣṇa's desire\n\nWe can understand that Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu's Pastimes come as the next edition of Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa's eternal Pastimes. Kṛṣṇa wanted to taste the depth of Rādhārāṇī's love and feelings of separation from Him; He wanted to taste His own beauty and love through Rādhārāṇī's supreme devotional mood. He Himself took Rādhārāṇī's heart and halo to appear in the form of Mahāprabhu, merged into His Kali-yuga-avatār form, and descended to the material world with His associates, abode, and so on. Śrīla Svarūp Dāmodar has explained this clearly for us:\n\nrādhā kṛṣṇa-praṇaya-vikṛtir hlādinī śaktir asmād  \nekātmānāv api bhuvi purā deha-bhedaṁ gatau tau  \nchaitanyākhyaṁ prakaṭam adhunā tad-dvayaṁ chaikyam āptaṁ  \nrādhā-bhāva-dyuti-suvalitaṁ naumi kṛṣṇa-svarūpam\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Ādi-līlā, 1.5)\n\nŚrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu is Kṛṣṇa Himself, but He has now become the divine form of Rādhā and Kṛṣṇa combined to taste Rādhārāṇī's Kṛṣṇa-prema. Rādhārāṇī and Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu are actually nondifferent. Mahāprabhu appeared to taste the divine ecstasy of Kṛṣṇa-prema in the way that Rādhārāṇī tastes it and to see the way She gives Kṛṣṇa super joy and ecstasy through Her love, affection, charm, beauty, and so on. That is the hidden purpose of Kṛṣṇa's appearance as Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu.\nChapter Twenty   \nThe Finest Conception\n\nWhen you are conscious, you want to eat something, you want to feel something, you want to do something, you want to enjoy something. You want a life in which everything is palatable and beautiful. In your room you choose your lights, your windows, different kinds of decorations, and so on. You make everything the way you like it. Your very nature shows that you want a beautiful life.\n\nWhere does beauty exist? How can we find beauty? There is a nice story in the Purāṇas about Mother Lakṣmī Devī's owl-carrier which explains this. Once, Mother Lakṣmī Devī tested her owl by giving her a garland of pearls and saying, \"Give this garland to whomever you think is most beautiful. Go out and search. When you find someone who appears most beautiful to you, give them this garland.\"\n\nThe owl went out and searched all over the whole world for anyone, any animal, human or thing, who had completely attractive beauty. Everywhere she went, she could always find some deficiency. She saw so many persons who were beautiful but she could always find some deficiency in them. Finally she became thirsty and returned to her home. When she saw her child, she immediately felt, \"Oh! So beautiful!\" and gave the pearl garland to her child. Later Mother Lakṣmī Devī asked, \"What happened in your search?\" The owl replied, \"I went around the whole world but I did not see anyone who was perfectly beautiful. Finally I became thirsty and went to my house. There I saw that my own child was so beautiful! I gave the garland to her.\"\n\nVision of love\n\nSo, where is beauty? Beauty is in the heart. We see beauty through the love and affection in our heart. If someone wants to dissect everything then everything will appear ugly to them. Sometimes people say, \"That person has a beautiful face.\" Where is the beauty of that person's face? If you perform a dissection in a laboratory will you find the beauty of that person's face? No. You will find blood, tissue, DNA, and so on.\n\nYou will never find beauty if you search for it externally. Beauty exists within our consciousness. When we understand this then everything around us will become auspicious and beautiful to us through the love and affection we hold in our hearts.\n\npremāñjana-chchhurita-bhakti-vilochanena  \nsantaḥ sadaiva hṛdayeṣu vilokayanti\n\n(Śrī Brahma-saṁhitā: 5.38)\n\nNothing will feel beautiful to you if you do not have love and affection (prema) within your heart. When your heart's eyes are decorated with love and affection then everything in front of you appears very beautiful. The vision necessary to see universal beauty comes to us through devotion (bhakti).\n\nMany times Śrīla Guru Mahārāj explained, \"Beauty is controlling everything.\" His expression, \"Search for Śrī Kṛṣṇa—Reality the Beautiful\" means that beauty is controlling everything. How does beauty come to us? Through love and affection for our Lord. We actually want to play and stay with our Lord in a beautiful place filled with beautiful paraphernalia and surrounded by a beautiful atmosphere. The first condition for this is devotion, and devotion will come through dedication. So everything—love, affection, beauty, devotion, dedication—is related and exists within the one chamber of our hearts.\n\nsādhyaṁ tat-prītim evety upadiśati janān gaura-chandraḥ svayaṁ saḥ\n\n(Daśa-mūla-tattva-niryāsa)\n\nSādhya means what you want, your destination, your ultimate hankering. Mahāprabhu taught us, sādhyaṁ tat-prītim: our sādhya is love for the Lord, as well as love for ourselves. When you have love for the Lord, love automatically returns to you.\n\ntach chātmane prati-mukhasya yathā mukha-śrīḥ\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam: 7.9.11)\n\nIf you put on tilak, in the mirror you will see that your face is beautifully decorated with tilak. Everything you give to your Lord returns to you a thousand times more beautiful. That is prīti, Kṛṣṇa-prema, our supreme aspiration, and Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu has given that consciousness to us.\n\nFull nourishment\n\nThe practice of Kṛṣṇa consciousness is our life, and it is necessary to practise that in a fair and perfect way. In our practising life, faith is the basis and love is our food. If our love for Kṛṣṇa increases then everything increases. If we realise what we have received from our Gurudev—pure consciousness of Śrī Kṛṣṇa—then in everything—every song, every verse, every advice, every thought—we will feel, \"My existence is present there.\"\n\nAll Kṛṣṇa conscious expressions have a very sweet nature.\n\ntad eva ramyaṁ ruchiraṁ navaṁ navaṁ  \ntad eva śaśvan manaso mahotsavam  \ntad eva śokārṇava-śoṣaṇaṁ nṛṇāṁ  \nyad uttamaḥśloka-yaśo 'nugīyate\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam: 12.12.50)\n\nTad eva ramyam: Kṛṣṇa consciousness is very tasteful, beautiful, and ecstatic. Ruchiraṁ navaṁ navam: it can reveal new light and inspiration at every moment. As someone hears about Kṛṣṇa consciousness he will not be satisfied by hearing only a little bit of discussion; he will want to hear more and more. Tad eva śaśvan manaso mahotsavam: Kṛṣṇa consciousness always gives everyone's heart the transcendental feeling of a great festival, just as we always happily expect there will be many varieties of very palatable mahāprasādam on a festival day. Kṛṣṇa consciousness is like a generator: it may be a little difficult to start, but once it is going and giving power it will run happily and give more and more light to everyone's heart. When Kṛṣṇa consciousness once enters the heart and receives good nourishment there, it will sprout, grow happily, and become strong enough to bind an elephant. Parīkṣit Mahārāj said,\n\nyach-chhṛṇvatāṁ rasa-jñānāṁ svādu svādu pade pade\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam: 1.1.19)\n\n\"If you discuss Kṛṣṇa consciousness as much as possible at every moment, very tasteful nectar will come to you again and again and take on newer and newer forms.\"\n\nVedavyās also said,\n\nnigama-kalpa-taror galitaṁ phalaṁ  \nśuka-mukhād amṛta-drava-saṁyutam  \npibata bhāgavataṁ rasam ālayaṁ  \nmuhur aho rasikā bhuvi bhāvukāḥ\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam: 1.1.3)\n\nKṛṣṇa consciousness is like a very sweet ripened fruit that has neither skin nor a seed. As you taste it, at every moment it gives you more and more ecstatic feelings and strength.\n\nbhaktiḥ pareśānubhavo viraktir  \nanyatra chaiṣa trika eka-kālaḥ  \nprapadyamānasya yathāśnataḥ syus  \ntuṣṭiḥ puṣṭiḥ kṣud-apāyo 'nu-ghāsam\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam: 11.2.42)\n\nHow will you know whether you have Kṛṣṇa consciousness or not? You will feel it just as a hungry person feels the effects of taking prasādam: with every mouthful that prasādam gives good taste, good nourishment, and removes hunger. When Kṛṣṇa consciousness is revealed in our hearts, our devotional feelings and activity will increase, we will feel the joy and happiness of a connection with Kṛṣṇa in our hearts, and we will experience detachment from mundane attractions, the end of our hunger for material things.\n\nHankering for Kṛṣṇa-prema\n\nKṛṣṇa consciousness has no end. The Upaniṣads say,\n\noṁ pūrṇam adaḥ pūrṇam idaṁ pūrṇāt pūrṇam udachyate  \npūrṇasya pūrṇam ādāya pūrṇam evāvaśiṣyate\n\n(Bṛhad-āraṇyaka-upaniṣad: 5.1.1)\n\n\"Kṛṣṇa consciousness is infinite, and a sincere seeker will really get that type of ecstasy—infinite ecstasy—through Kṛṣṇa consciousness.\"\n\nAs Kṛṣṇa consciousness reveals itself more and more in our hearts we may even become mad. What did Mahāprabhu Himself say?\n\nna prema-gandho 'sti darāpi me harau  \nkrandāmi saubhāgya-bharaṁ prakāśitum  \nvaṁśī-vilāsy-ānana-lokanaṁ vinā  \nbibharmi yat prāṇa-pataṅgakān vṛthā\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Madhya-līlā, 2.45)\n\n\"Really, I have no love for Kṛṣṇa. If I did then how could I be alive? I am living without Kṛṣṇa, so how can I say I have love for Kṛṣṇa?\"\n\nMahāprabhu is full of Kṛṣṇa-prema, but His heart's expression is, \"Na prema-gandho 'sti darāpi Me Harau: I do not have even a little bit of hankering for Kṛṣṇa.\"\n\nActually, Mahāprabhu was hankering for Kṛṣṇa-prema so much, and He showed us the degree of hankering that is necessary for Kṛṣṇa consciousness. He showed us that if we clearly and perfectly, without any haziness, realise that we need Kṛṣṇa-prema, then even Kṛṣṇa will not be able to check us. We will get it. If I am very disturbed by the mundane environment and I sincerely pray to Kṛṣṇa, \"Please give me Kṛṣṇa-prema\", then Kṛṣṇa must give that to me.\n\nKṛṣṇa knows everything, and Kṛṣṇa understands everything. Kṛṣṇa is everywhere, and His divine play as the Sweet Absolute never stops. Even if Kṛṣṇa does not want to give Kṛṣṇa-prema to us, His devotees will (patitānāṁ pāvanebhyo). Sometimes Kṛṣṇa likes to hide, but His devotees are always merciful. If they see anyone drowning they will rescue him. The devotees will always give full support to a hankering soul.\n\nEven if Kṛṣṇa ousts me from His jurisdiction, I still have hope if I have hankering for the service of Kṛṣṇa under the affectionate guidance of His devotees. That is my life experience; it is not only a theory. I have seen many things in my life, and through that I am sure that even if Kṛṣṇa wants to oust me, He will not be able to if I have the affection of His devotees. So only self-realisation is necessary: \"Do I want Kṛṣṇa-prema or not?\"\n\nkṛṣṇa-bhakti-rasa-bhāvitā matiḥ  \nkrīyatāṁ yadi kuto 'pi labhyate  \ntatra laulyam api mūlyam ekalaṁ  \njanma-koṭi-sukṛtair na labhyate\n\n(Padyāvalī: 14)\n\nWe need transcendental ecstasy. We do not want sadness, sorrow, or inauspiciousness. We always need the opposite. We need something eternal, glorious, and beautiful. There is only one way to get that: hankering. Hankering gives us real property in our spiritual life.\n\nIf I have hankering for Kṛṣṇa-prema then I must search, \"Where is Kṛṣṇa-prema?\" It is very rare, but if I find anyone who has Kṛṣṇa-prema in their heart, then I must try to get his association. Through that person I can understand what Kṛṣṇa-prema is, how much I need it, how much I will be satisfied by it, and so on. I will be able to understand everything through the sādhu who has Kṛṣṇa-prema in his heart.\n\nAll the scriptures always praise the sādhus. A sādhu is chaste, honest, and dedicated to the Lord with extreme love and affection. If we have a connection with a sādhu, with our Guru, and we are conscious about that, then we can receive prema, love and affection, from him on the conscious level. Love and affection are transmitted from consciousness to consciousness, from heart to heart.\n\nThe presence of love within the sādhu's consciousness can be transmitted to you and transform your consciousness. Hankering is our first necessity. Without hankering we will not find that sādhu or Kṛṣṇa-prema. Many frustrated persons are searching in the wrong way. Our search should be filled with happiness, peace, and beauty. In that way we will seek, \"Is it here or there?\" If we are frustrated in one place then we must look in another place, and wherever we can find the devotional mood of Kṛṣṇa-prema we must immediately buy it with our hankering. Hankering can give us everything. But krīyatām does not mean, \"Try to buy it.\" Krīyatām means, \"Buy it!\" The price of Kṛṣṇa-prema is hankering. Without hankering, without intense desire, we will never get Kṛṣṇa-prema, even if we have an ocean of sukṛti. The only qualification and means is hankering, and without that we will not get anything.\n\nIntoxicated with mundane activity\n\nDuring the Ratha Yātrā Mahāprabhu prayed to Lord Jagannāth:\n\nnāhaṁ vipro na cha nara-patir nāpi vaiśyo na śūdro  \nnāhaṁ varṇī na cha gṛha-patir no vanastho yatir vā  \nkintu prodyan-nikhila-paramānanda-pūrnāmṛtābdher  \ngopī-bhartuḥ pada-kamalayor dāsa-dāsānudāsaḥ\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Madhya-līlā, 13.80)\n\n\"We are not brāhmaṇs, kṣatriyas, vaiśyas, or śūdras. We are not sannyāsīs, vānaprasthas, gṛhasthas, or brahmachārīs. Our identity is not mundane. We are eternal servants of the servants of the servants of Reality the Beautiful Śrī Kṛṣṇa. Gopī-bhartuḥ pada-kamalayor dāsa-dāsānudāsaḥ: we are the servants of the servants of the servant of the cowherd boy of Vṛndāvan who is the protector, prestige, and everything of the gopīs. That Kṛṣṇa is our enjoyer, and all our service is meant to supply enjoyment to Him.\"\n\nThis is the conception of Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu, and through His conception we are approaching Guru–Vaiṣṇava with strong faith and hankering to be engaged in service. How we can properly serve the servants of Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa according to Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu's conception in our lives has been revealed by Prabhupād Śrīla Saraswatī Ṭhākur.\n\nOur Param Gurudev, Śrīla Saraswatī Ṭhākur, composed a Bengali song during the inauguration festival of the Bag Bazaar Gauḍīya Maṭh in Kolkata. Before that ashram opened Śrīla Saraswatī Ṭhākur and his disciples stayed in a rented house in Ultadanga. One gentleman, Jagabandhu Prabhu, donated three lakhs of rupees to Prabhupād so that he could establish the Kolkata headquarters of his Mission. Today that would equal a donation of at least one crore of rupees. All of Prabhupād's disciples were very happy and enjoyed their new ashram very much. All the activities of an ashram externally look like material activities (viṣay). Internally they are the service of Guru and Gaurāṅga, but externally they look like material activities: eating, sleeping, singing, dancing, and so on (viṣaya-raṅga).\n\nWhen the festival was held for the inauguration of the new ashram a Ratha Yātrā style procession brought the Deities Śrī Śrī Guru Gaurāṅga Gāndharvikā Giridhārī from Ultadanga to Bag Bazaar. At that time Śrīla Saraswatī Ṭhākur composed this line explaining the activities of his Mission:\n\npūjala rāga-pātha gaurava-bhaṅge  \nmātala sādhu-jana viṣaya-raṅge\n\nHere Śrīla Saraswatī Ṭhākur explains that the sādhu-jana, the devotees, all appear very intoxicated with mundane activity, viṣaya-raṅge, but their activities are actually not mundane at all: they are regulated worship of the higher path of rāga-mārg, the path of loving service to the Divine Couple Śrī Śrī Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa.\n\nŚrīla Saraswatī Ṭhākur gave everyone the divine knowledge that we should not emotionally jump into the external activities of the residents of Vṛndāvan. Rather, we should respect and honour their service as above us and pray for their mercy. If we try to jump from our egoistic mountain to the highest plane of divine līlā we will fall down very close to where we started. It is not the proper procedure to try to enter the higher plane from our existing position. We need to transform ourselves and be empowered by the residents of that higher plane before we can enter there.\n\nHanumānjī can jump from mountain to mountain because He acts solely for service of His Lord, Rāmachandra. We need to have power like him, that is, a pure serving mood, before we can jump from our position into the divine Pastimes of Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa. Pūjala rāga-pātha gaurava-bhaṅge: until we are qualified with a pure serving mood we will honour the Divine Couple's Sweet Absolute Pastimes from a respectful distance.\n\nThe posture of Mahāprabhu's saṅkīrtan\n\nWhen I wanted to make a diorama expressing Śrīla Saraswatī Ṭhākur's siddhānta on the front of our Maṭh in Nabadwīp, I used this verse. However I changed one of the lines in the verse with the permission of Śrīla Guru Mahārāj. Through Śrīla Guru Mahārāj we can understand the desire of Śrīla Saraswatī Ṭhākur and for preaching purposes I changed this verse to make it more understandable to general people. I engraved these two lines on our naṭ mandir:\n\nmātala hari-jana kīrtana-raṅge  \npūjala rāga-pātha gaurava-bhaṅge\n\nLater, I also posted this expression on the wall of my veranda so I could see it every day. Śrīla Saraswatī Ṭhākur's phrase viṣaya-raṅge is very deep. To say that work and activity which may appear completely material are actually completely transcendental is not easy for the public to understand. I wanted to show in the diorama that it is through Mahāprabhu's saṅkīrtan that we must worship Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa in Kali-yuga. For that reason I used the phrase mātala Hari-jana kīrtana-raṅge instead. It means that devotees are intoxicated with the practice of Mahāprabhu's saṅkīrtan. They are hearing and chanting the Holy Name and the glories of Mahāprabhu, and through that they are serving and satisfying the Divine Couple Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa, whose nondifferent form is Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu. In the formal posture (gaurava-bhaṅge) of Mahāprabhu's saṅkīrtan the devotees are offering their worship to Rādhā-Govinda and Their intimate servitors.\n\nAt present we do not live in the domain of Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa, and we are not trying to forcefully enter that abode. Rather we are trying to honour that abode through our life in Kali-yuga under the proper shelter of the practice of saṅkīrtan at the lotus feet of Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu. So we are proceeding systematically towards the goal of our lives, the service of Rādhā-Govinda, under the guidance of Their intimate associates headed by Śrīla Rūpa Goswāmī Prabhu.\n\nService in Gupta Govardhan\n\nOnce when we were painting Śrīla Guru Mahārāj's building in Nabadwīp I decided to put a verse on the front of the building above his veranda.\n\nśrī-rādhāra bhāve yini suvarṇa varaṇa  \nsāṅgopāṅge navadvīpe yā̐ra saṅkīrtana  \nkalite upāsya sei kṛṣṇa gaurahari  \nnavadhā bhaktite tā̐ra upāsanā kari\n\n(Śrīla Bhakti Vinod Ṭhākur)\n\n\"Through the nine-fold practice of devotion I worship Kṛṣṇa's golden form in Kali-yuga, Gaurahari, who performs saṅkīrtan in the mood of Śrī Rādhā with His associates in Śrī Nabadwīp Dhām.\"\n\nWhen I had this verse written on the front of his building Śrīla Guru Mahārāj did not say anything. Years later when we were maintaining the building we white-washed all the walls and that verse was painted over. When Śrīla Guru Mahārāj came out onto the roof of the naṭ mandir and saw the wall where the verse had been written he asked me, \"Where is that verse? I do not see it.\" Then I understood that Śrīla Guru Mahārāj noticed everything and that he was very happy when I put this verse on the front of his building. I felt that Śrīla Guru Mahārāj knew everything I was doing and was always watching over me. Then I had that verse written there again, and still it is there today.\n\nOur Maṭh is located in Gupta Govardhan, Hidden Govardhan, in Śrī Nabadwīp Dhām. Govardhan is the primary place of rāga-mārg worship of Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa.\n\npramada-madana-līlāḥ kandare kandare te  \nrachayati nava-yūnor dvandvam asminn amandam  \niti kila kalanārthaṁ lagnakas tad-dvayor me  \nnija-nikaṭa-nivāsaṁ dehi govardhana tvam\n\n(Śrī Govardhana-vāsa-prārthanā-daśakam: 2)\n\nGirirāj Govardhan is the highest place in Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa's Pastimes. Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa's highest līlās happen in the groves around Govardhan Hill. Rādhā Kuṇḍa, Śyāma Kuṇḍa, Govinda Kuṇḍa, Kusum Sarovar, and many, many kuñjas surround Govardhan, and Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa's confidential līlās happen at different times and in these places around Govardhan.\n\nRādhā-Kṛṣṇa enjoy Their intimate Pastimes around Govardhan as all the sakhīs and mañjarīs busily serve Them day and night. Chiefly Lalitā Devī organises the service of Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa, and she gives the highest service to the group of Rūpa Mañjarī. Gokula-pateḥ premāmṛtāplāvanāt: in this way the nectar of Kṛṣṇa-prema overfloods all around Govardhan Hill.\n\nWe presented our diorama on the front of our Maṭh to show everyone that through the saṅkīrtan of Mahāprabhu we can properly honour the most worshippable plane of rāga-mārg service of Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa—Govardhan—and that we will automatically enter there when we become qualified through our sincere practice of saṅkīrtan. Śrīla Guru Mahārāj accepted all of my ideas. In that way we decorated the front of Śrī Chaitanya Sāraswat Maṭh and adjusted Śrīla Saraswatī Ṭhākur's expression.\n\nThe shelter of the sakhīs\n\nIf you want entrance into Kṛṣṇa-līlā's special chamber of paramour love then you must go to the sakhīs, Rādhārāṇī's associates. All rights are reserved by the sakhīs in those Pastimes. You must go to the sakhīs, surrender to them, and get a visa from them to enter those Pastimes. If the sakhīs do not give you a visa then no one—neither Kṛṣṇa, nor Lord Śiva, nor anyone—can give you entrance into the Pastimes of paramour love. Lakṣmī Devī Herself was denied a visa. All rights are reserved by the sakhīs. In Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta it is written,\n\nsakhī vinā ei līlā puṣṭa nāhi haya  \nsakhī līlā vistāriyā, sakhī āsvādaya\n\n(Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta: Madhya-līlā, 8.203)\n\n\"The sakhīs provide all the nourishment necessary for Śrī Śrī Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa's Pastimes of paramour love. The sakhīs personally taste these Pastimes, and only they have the power to distribute them. No one else has the right to taste them, and without the sakhīs' consent no one gets entrance into them.\"\n\nRādhārāṇī is the leader of all the groups of sakhīs. She has eight principle sakhīs: Lalitā, Viśākhā, Chitra, Champakalatikā, Tuṅga Vidyā, Indulekhā, Sudevī, and Raṅga Devikā. They are the group leaders of all the servitors of Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa. The mañjarīs, the younger sakhīs, serve under the eight primary sakhīs. The mañjarīs are led by Rūpa Mañjarī and her associates: Lavaṅga Mañjarī, Anaṅga Mañjarī, Rati Mañjarī, Guṇa Mañjarī, and so on. Rādhārāṇī serves Kṛṣṇa directly while all of Her associates assist Her under the guidance of Lalitā Devī and Rūpa Mañjarī. Rādhārāṇī also sometimes sends Kṛṣṇa to satisfy the sakhīs. The sakhīs do not expect they will associate with Kṛṣṇa alone, but Rādhārāṇī makes many tactful arrangements for them. Rādhārāṇī wants to satisfy Kṛṣṇa and side by side all of Kṛṣṇa's servitors.\n\nIn this way the Pastimes of Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa go on, and service-entrance into those Pastimes is only available by surrendering to the sakhīs. Without their mercy no one can expect to serve Rādhārāṇī or Kṛṣṇa. The service of Rādhārāṇī is very rare to get, and without the mercy of the sakhīs no one will get it. The sakhīs give power to the mañjarīs, so if anyone can receive the mercy of Rūpa Mañjarī, the leader of the mañjarīs, then they will get full entrance into the service world of Goloka Vṛndāvan.\n\nIf we proceed properly we must get the association and mercy of the Divine Couple's associates, the sakhīs, one day. That is our life's goal. But before that it is necessary for us to understand the identities of Kṛṣṇa, Rādhārāṇī, and Their associates, as well as our own identity and necessity. We need realisation of these things, and we need to approach that highest plane through the proper channel. If we can approach properly then we reach our life's goal.\n\nmātala hari-jana kīrtana-raṅge  \npūjala rāga-pātha gaurava-bhaṅge\n\nOur target is the service of Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa under the guidance of Rādhārāṇī's associates, but if we think we will get that very easily then we will be cheated. It is first necessary to practise Hari-nām-saṅkīrtan properly and try to attract Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa to appear in our heart by the grace of Their associates.\n\nMature taste and immature imitation\n\nAt present Rādhā-Govinda-līlā is so far from us because we are bound by our material senses and have no control over them. We have a materialistic conception, and through that we fall into the garbage of illusion again and again. A proper practitioner who is qualified to remember Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa-līlā under the guidance of his Guru has no attachment to this mundane world. He has no lust, anger, greed, or illusion—nothing. But we are conditioned souls who are polluted by māyā, and we will be cheated even more by māyā if we are not careful and prematurely try to enter into the higher plane of Kṛṣṇa's Vṛndāvan Pastimes.\n\nSo many so-called big personalities and sādhus may preach about Vraja-bhajan, but before the stage of ruchi we are not qualified for that. Ruchi means extreme attachment, affection, and love that is free from anything mundane. Those who have ruchi can think about the Pastimes of Rādhā-Govinda, their position in those Pastimes, the aṣṭa-kāliyā-līlā, and many other things. But if we still have any anarthas [mundane desires], then any practice of that will be imitation. And imitationism, sahajiyāism, takes us to hell.\n\nWe have seen many bābājīs singing Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa-līlā and crying so much: singing and crying, singing and crying, and finally foaming at the mouth. But simply showing many symptoms of ecstasy is not real Kṛṣṇa-prema. Śrīla Bhakti Vinod Ṭhākur clearly expressed in his song,\n\nki āra bolibo tore mana  \nmukhe bolo prema prema, vastutaḥ tyajiyā hema  \nśūnya-grantha añchale bandhana\n\n(Kalyāṇa-kalpa-taru: Upadeśa, 18.1)\n\n\"My dirty and naughty mind, what can I say to you? You are always saying, 'Kṛṣṇa-prema, Kṛṣṇa-prema', and making an exhibition of the symptoms of Kṛṣṇa-prema, but you actually do not have anything. Your activity is comparable to making a knot in the corner of your cloth to show others that you have a piece of gold there. Inside you have nothing. You think you are carrying a precious golden jewel within you, but actually you have nothing of value. You think your activities are giving you the wealth of Kṛṣṇa-prema but actually they are only deceiving you.\"\n\nThe ecstasy and nectar of the Pastimes of Kṛṣṇa in Vṛndāvan can only be tasted by liberated souls. We must wait for the stage of ruchi to come to us before trying to enter there. We should first make our heart and mind clean and engage in the service of Rādhā-Govinda under the guidance of a real sādhu, who is properly practising Kṛṣṇa consciousness in the line of exclusive service. Such a sādhu will guide us properly according to our stage of development. If we try to proceed in that way and engage in Hari-nām-saṅkīrtan as it was given by Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu for the Kali-yuga, it will be possible for us to receive the purifying mercy of Rādhā-Govinda. We will be fully satisfied with that.\n\nThe treasurer of our fortune\n\nŚrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu appeared to show us the path of our life and the glories of Rādhā-Govinda. Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu's greatest gift to the world and the way that He distributes it have been explained by Śrīla Guru Mahārāj.\n\nsarvāchintyamaye parātpara-pure goloka-vṛndāvane  \nchil-līlā-rasa-raṅginī parivṛtā sā rādhikā śrī-hareḥ  \nvātsalyādi-rasaiś cha sevita-tanor-mādhurya-sevā-sukhaṁ  \nnityaṁ yatra mudā tanoti hi bhavān tad dhāma-sevā-pradaḥ  \nśrī-gaurānumataṁ svarūpa-viditaṁ rūpāgrajenādṛtaṁ  \nrūpādyaiḥ pariveśitaṁ raghu-gaṇair āsvāditaṁ sevitam  \njīvādyair abhirakṣitaṁ śuka-śiva-brahmādi-sammānitaṁ  \nśrī-rādhā-pada-sevanāmṛtam aho tad dātum īśo bhavān\n\n(Śrīmad Bhakti Vinod Viraha Daśakam: 8–9)\n\nIn the highest plane of the inconceivable realm—Goloka Vṛndāvan Dhām—Rādhārāṇī and Her associates serve Kṛṣṇa in the supreme rasa of paramour love. Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu appeared to distribute the service of Rādhārāṇī under the guidance of Her associates. Svarūp Dāmodar understood this perfectly. Śrīla Rūpa Goswāmī, Śrīla Sanātan Goswāmī, Śrīla Raghunāth Dās Goswāmī, and Śrīla Jīva Goswāmī wholeheartedly practiced this throughout their lives and showed everyone the proper way to approach it. Śrīla Sanātan Goswāmī worshipped it, Śrīla Rūpa Goswāmī distributed it, Śrīla Raghunāth Goswāmī tasted and served it, and Śrīla Jīva Goswāmī protected it. Śukadev Goswāmī, Lord Śiva, Lord Brahmā, Devarṣi Nārad, Uddhava and others fold their hands and gave their full respect to it. Śrī-Rādhā-pada-sevanāmṛtam: the nectar of the service of Rādhārāṇī's lotus feet, the highest conception of Kṛṣṇa consciousness, aho tad dātum īśo bhavān: the treasurer of that wealth is Gurudev. Only Gurudev has the capacity to distribute that final destination and highest property to the conditioned souls.\n\nThe gist of Śrīla Guru Mahārāj's expression in these two verses is, \"The strength, quality, qualification—everything—necessary to worship Rādhārāṇī's lotus feet comes through Gurudev.\"\n\nEverything we want to know we can understand through our Gurudev. Gurudev's position is always supreme. Gurudev is the Lord's best servitor. In the scriptures it is said:\n\nharau ruṣṭe gurus-trātā gurau ruṣṭe na kaśchana\n\n(Āditya-purāṇa)\n\n\"If Kṛṣṇa is angry with you, Gurudev can save you, Rādhārāṇī can save you, but if Rādhārāṇī is angry with you, Kṛṣṇa cannot save you.\"\n\nOur protection, our environment, our everything, comes to us through Gurudev's mercy, and through that we will be gracious, fortunate, and exalted practitioners. In that way we will practise to serve Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa in the line of Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu. That is called Kṛṣṇānuśīlanam: serving Śrī Kṛṣṇa under the guidance of Śrīmatī Rādhārāṇī.\n\nWe know that Gurudev is nondifferent from Rādhārāṇī. It is written everywhere in the scriptures, but Śrīla Saraswatī Ṭhākur specially and sweetly mentioned, \"If I want to see my Gurudev, I shall see that he is the nondifferent form of Rādhārāṇī. I do not know and I do not want to know the position of another person's Guru. I only know that my Guru is my rescuer, my master, my everything, and if I want to see him more deeply then I see that he is a nondifferent form of Rādhārāṇī.\" Śrīla Saraswatī Ṭhākur expressed his vision in this way, and we honour that fully.\n\nŚrīla Bhakti Vinod Ṭhākur, Śrīla Bhakti Siddhānta Saraswatī Ṭhākur, and Śrīla Guru Mahārāj are all deeply attached to the service of Rādhārāṇī. We shall try heart and soul as possible by us to serve them, our Guru-paramparā, and through that telescopic system our service will go directly and perfectly to Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa. This is the finest and highest conception of Kṛṣṇa consciousness. We are so fortunate to be in the line of Kṛṣṇa consciousness under the guidance of Śrīla Guru Mahārāj and Śrīla Saraswatī Ṭhākur, who are the dearmost associates of Śrīla Rūpa Goswāmī and Rādhārāṇī.\nAppendix\n\nDaśa-Vidha Nāmāparādha\n\nThe Ten Offences to the Name\n\nŚrīla Bhakti Sundar Govinda Dev-Goswāmī Mahārāj\n\nA poetic Bengali translation of the verses listing the offences to the Name in the Padma-purāṇa.\n\nhari-nāma mahāmantra sarva-mantra-sāra  \nyā̐dera karuṇā-bale jagate prachāra  \nsei nāma-parāyaṇa sādhu, mahājana  \ntā̐hādera nindā nā kariha kadāchana [1]\n\nThe Hari-nām mahāmantra is the best of all mantras and is distributed throughout the world by the mercy of the sādhus devoted to the Name. Never criticise such great souls.\n\nvrajendra-nandana kṛṣṇa sarveśvareśvara  \nmaheśvara ādi tā̐ra sevana-tatpara  \nnāma chintāmaṇi kṛṣṇa-chaitanya-svarūpa  \nbheda-jñāna nā karibe līlā-guṇa-rūpa [2]\n\nVrajendra Nandan Kṛṣṇa is the Lord of all Lords. Śiva and all other gods are dedicated to His service. The Name is a wish-fulfilling jewel and a spiritual form of Kṛṣṇa Himself. Do not consider Kṛṣṇa's Name to be distinct from His Form, Qualities, or Pastimes.\n\n\"guru kṛṣṇa-rūpa hana śāstrera pramāṇe  \nguru-rūpe kṛṣṇa kṛpā kare bhāgyavāne\"  \nse gurute martya-buddhi avajñādi tyaji'  \niṣṭa-lābha kara, nirantara nāma bhaji' [3]\n\n\"The scriptures confirm that Guru is a form of Kṛṣṇa (SB: 11.17.27). In the form of Guru, Kṛṣṇa bestows His mercy upon the fortunate.\" Give up the conception that Guru is a mortal, and all other types of disrespect, and attain your cherished goal: serving the Name eternally.\n\nśruti, śruti-mātā-saha sātvata purāṇa  \nśrī-nāma-charaṇa-padma kare nīrājana  \nsei śruti-śāstra yebā karaye nindana  \nse aparadhīra saṅga karibe varjana [4]\n\nThe Vedas, their mother Gāyatrī, and Śrīmad Bhāgavatam worship the Holy Name's lotus feet. Reject the association of any offender who criticises these scriptures.\n\nnāmera mahimā sarva-śāstrete vākhāne  \natistuti, hena kabhu nā bhāviha mane  \nagastya, ananta, brahmā, śivādi satata  \nye nāma-mahimā-gāthā saṅkīrtana-rata  \nse nāma-mahimā-sindhu ke pāibe pāra?  \natistuti bale yei—sei durāchāra [5]\n\nThe Name's glories are proclaimed in all the scriptures. Never consider such glorification to be exaggerated praise. Agastya, Ananta, Brahmā, Śiva, and so on are always devoted to chanting the Name's glories. Who can cross the ocean of those glories? Anyone who considers them exaggerated praise is wicked.\n\nkṛṣṇa-nāmāvali nitya golokera dhana  \nkalpita, prākṛta, bhāve—aparādhi-jana [6]\n\nKṛṣṇa's Names are the eternal wealth of Goloka. Anyone who considers Them imaginary or mundane is an offender.\n\nnāme sarva-pāpa-kṣaya sarva-śāstre kaya  \nsārā-dina pāpa kari sei bharasāya—  \nemata durbuddhi yāra sei aparādhī  \nmāyā-pravañchita, duḥkha bhuñje niravadhi [7]\n\nAll the scriptures declare that the Name destroys all sin. The wicked who sin all day long in expectation of this are offenders. They are deluded by māyā and suffer perpetually.\n\natulya śrī-kṛṣṇa-nāma pūrṇa-rasa-nidhi  \ntā̐ra sama nā bhāviha śubha-karma ādi [8]\n\nŚrī Kṛṣṇa's incomparable Name is a brimming reservoir of rasa. Chanting the Name should never be considered equal to pious worldly action (such as adhering to vows, practising renunciation, performing austerities, making sacrificial offerings, and so on).\n\nnāme śraddhā-hina-jana—vidhātā vāñchita  \ntāre nāma dāne aparādha suniśchita [9]\n\nThose who have no faith in the Name have been deceived by Providence. To give the Name to them is certainly an offence.\n\nśuniyāo kṛṣṇa-nāma-māhātmya apāra  \nye prīti-rahita, sei narādhama chhāra  \nahaṁtā mamatā yāra antare bāhire  \nśuddha kṛṣṇa-nāma tāra kabhu nāhi sphure [10]\n\nThose who remain devoid of love for Kṛṣṇa's Name even after hearing His boundless glories are deplorable, fallen souls. The pure Name of Kṛṣṇa never reveals Himself to those who are internally and externally ridden with egotism and possessiveness.\n\nei daśa aparādha kariyā varjana  \nye sujana kare hari-nāma saṅkīrtana  \napūrva śrī-kṛṣṇa-prema labhya tāre haya  \nnāma-prabhu tāra hṛde nitya vilasaya [11]\n\nGreat souls who avoid these ten offences and engage in Hari-nām-saṅkīrtan attain unprecedented Śrī Kṛṣṇa-prema. The Name Himself plays within their hearts eternally.\nAbout the Author\n\ngurvābhīṣṭa-supūrakaṁ guru-gaṇair āśīṣa-saṁbhūṣitaṁ  \nchintyāchintya-samasta-veda-nipuṇaṁ śrī-rūpa-panthānugam  \ngovindābhidham ujjvalaṁ vara-tanuṁ bhakty anvitaṁ sundaraṁ  \nvande viśva-guruñ cha divya-bhagavat-premṇo hi bīja-pradam\n\n\"I offer my obeisance unto Śrīla Bhakti Sundar Govinda Dev- Goswāmī Mahārāj, who perfectly fulfils his Gurudev's most cherished desires; who is fully adorned with the blessings of his Gurudev's associates; who is expert in all aspects of Vedic knowledge, both conceivable and inconceivable; who is the pre-eminent follower of Śrīla Rūpa Goswāmī Prabhu's line; whose beautiful, exalted, effulgent form is filled with devotion; who is the Guru of the world; and who distributes the seed of divine love for the Supreme Lord.\"\n\nHis Divine Grace Śrīla Bhakti Sundar Govinda Dev-Goswāmī Mahārāj made his appearance in this world on 17 December 1929 in the holy land of Śrī Gaura Maṇḍal in a village known as Bamunpara within the Burdwan district of West Bengal, India.\n\nLike the sun rising and inspiring lotuses to bloom, Śrīla Govinda Mahārāj appeared in a brāhmaṇ family and filled the land of Śrīman Mahāprabhu with joy. His family's ancestors were followers of Śrī Nityānanda Prabhu, and from his boyhood he engaged in the service of his family's Deities, Śrī Śrī Rādhā-Gopīnāth, who were installed by Nityānanda Prabhu's son Vīrachandra Prabhu. At the age of seventeen he met his Divine Master, Śrīla Bhakti Rakṣak Śrīdhar Dev-Goswāmī Mahārāj.\n\nGurvābhīṣṭa-supūrakaṁ\n\nHe perfectly fulfils his Gurudev's most cherished desires.\n\nAlmost immediately after he arrived, Śrīla Śrīdhar Mahārāj recognised his divine qualities and publicly declared that he would prepare him to be the future Āchārya of Śrī Chaitanya Sāraswat Maṭh.\n\nAs a young brahmachārī, Śrīla Govinda Mahārāj surrendered to Śrīla Śrīdhar Mahārāj in thought, word, and deed, and received instruction from him in all aspects of the scriptures and their practical application. He quickly became adept in all fields of service.\n\nŚrīla Śrīdhar Mahārāj's mission was to propound the glory of Śrīman Mahāprabhu according to the teachings of Śrīla Rūpa Goswāmī Prabhu and his followers, led in modern times by Śrīla Bhakti Siddhānta Saraswatī Ṭhākur. Śrīla Govinda Mahārāj acted to fulfil this desire of his Gurudev in every possible way. He set up a printing press and published numerous books and magazines filled with the writings of the Rūpānuga sampradāya's Āchāryas. He led tours to the pilgrimage sites all over India that are associated with Sāraswat Gauḍīya Vaiṣṇavism. He established the annual Śrī Nabadwīp Dhām Parikramā festival at Śrī Chaitanya Sāraswat Maṭh, which has continued without interruption since 1948. He made the arrangements for the installation of the Maṭh's Deities Śrī Śrī Gāndharvā-Govindasundar and collected the funds needed to construct the domed Temple in which They reside. He travelled to towns and villages both near and far to spread Śrīman Mahāprabhu's Nām-saṅkīrtan-dharma and inspire souls to take shelter at the lotus feet of Śrī Guru. The countless endeavours he made in service to his Gurudev cannot be summarised.\n\nŚrīla Govinda Mahārāj also served Śrīla Śrīdhar Mahārāj intimately as his doctor and confidant. Their relationship was so developed that many have described them as a shining example of the perfect Guru and perfect disciple. Śrīla Govinda Mahārāj has described himself as being \"bound by affection\" to his Gurudev's feet, and Śrīla Śrīdhar Mahārāj felt such attachment to Śrīla Govinda Mahārāj that at times he could not tolerate his separation for even a few hours.\n\nGuru-gaṇair āśīṣa-saṁbhūṣitaṁ\n\nHe is fully adorned with the blessings of his Gurudev's associates.\n\nOver the course of the forty-two years that they lived together, Śrīla Govinda Mahārāj had the fortune of serving many of Śrīla Śrīdhar Mahārāj's godbrothers and observing their loving interactions with Śrīla Śrīdhar Mahārāj.\n\nLeading preachers like Śrīpād Bhakti Sāraṅga Goswāmī Mahārāj, Śrīpād Bhakti Prajñān Keśav Mahārāj, Śrīpād Bhakti Vichār Jājāvar Mahārāj, Śrīpād Bhakti Dayita Mādhav Mahārāj, and Śrīpād Bhakti Kamal Madhusūdan Mahārāj would come to Śrī Chaitanya Sāraswat Maṭh to honour Śrīla Śrīdhar Mahārāj, and while there would always affectionately encourage Śrīla Govinda Mahārāj. Śrīla Bhakti Siddhānta Saraswatī Ṭhākur's sister, Śrīla Bhaktivedānta Swāmī Prabhupād's sister Bhāvanī Didi, and Śrīla Śrīdhar Mahārāj's sister Ramā Didi, and other noble ladies, also blessed Śrīla Govinda Mahārāj during his youth.\n\nDuring the late '40s and early '50s Śrīla A. C. Bhaktivedānta Swāmī Prabhupād ran a preaching centre on behalf of Śrī Chaitanya Sāraswat Maṭh in Kolkata. As a young brahmachārī, Śrīla Govinda Mahārāj would stay with Śrīla Swāmī Mahārāj for a few months each year. Daily, Śrīla Swāmī Mahārāj would teach him verses from Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā, and he would cook for Śrīla Swāmī Mahārāj. During this time Śrīla Swāmī Mahārāj also trained him as a preacher by engaging him as the first distributor of Back to Godhead magazine. When Śrīla Govinda Mahārāj started Śrī Chaitanya Sāraswat Maṭh's Śrī Gauḍīya Darśan magazine, Śrīla Swāmī Mahārāj wrote a letter of appreciation for his service: \"[Your writing] is not only very amusing but instructive.... In time you can become a great transcendental humourist in the art of journalism. You have complete mercy from your Divine Master and you can depend on his blessings for your future improvement. I sincerely wish you all success. Undoubtedly you are now in the highest order of varṇāśram-dharma, but we cannot forget that you belong to the category of our affectionate sons. We cannot forget all such filial love for you, and when we see that you are improving in all respects it gladdens our heart.\"\n\nChintyāchintya-samasta-veda-nipuṇam\n\nHe is expert in all aspects of Vedic knowledge, both conceivable and inconceivable.\n\nŚrīla Govinda Mahārāj's command of the revealed scriptures amazed everyone who met him. From his childhood he had a remarkable memory, and when he came to the Maṭh he quickly memorised hundreds of songs and thousands of verses on his Gurudev's order. From that time until his final days he could readily recite Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā, Śrī Chaitanya-charitāmṛta, large portions of Śrīmad Bhāgavatam, and countless verses from other texts. Within two or three years of joining he could lecture with more authority than many of his Guru's godbrothers. Śrīla Govinda Mahārāj's capacity to recount and explain the scriptures pleased Śrīla Śrīdhar Mahārāj so much that when Śrīla Govinda Mahārāj was a brahmachārī of only two years, Śrīla Śrīdhar Mahārāj gave him the title 'Vidyā Rañjan' [one whose knowledge delights others].\n\nŚrīla Śrīdhar Mahārāj also later stated in his last will and testament: \"Above all, he [Śrīla Govinda Mahārāj] is well-known and unanimously acclaimed as being firmly established in the philosophy of the perfect axiomatic truth of bhakti as propounded by both myself as well as by my Divine Master.\"\n\nŚrīla Govinda Mahārāj wrote numerous poems and articles in Sanskrit and Bengali, which he published in the magazine he ran on behalf of Śrī Chaitanya Sāraswat Maṭh, Śrī Gauḍīya Darśan. His writings blend siddhānta with wit, sweetness, and humour to melt both the heart and mind. Śrīla Śrīdhar Mahārāj's godbrothers sometimes mistook his compositions for those of Śrīla Śrīdhar Mahārāj, which they revered as nondifferent from Śrīla Rūpa Goswāmī Prabhu's writings.\n\nŚrīla Govinda Mahārāj's expertise also went beyond scriptural theory; he was adept at leadership, organisation, fundraising, construction, cow care, gardening, and cooking. As the Maṭh's manager, he excelled at all services by virtue of his extraordinary intelligence and could expertly put the teachings of the scriptures in practice according to time, place, and circumstance.\n\nŚrī-Rūpa-panthānugam\n\nHe is the pre-eminent follower of Śrīla Rūpa Goswāmī Prabhu's line.\n\nŚrīla Bhakti Rakṣak Śrīdhar Dev-Goswāmī Mahārāj was empowered by Śrīla Bhakti Siddhānta Saraswatī Ṭhākur to be the self-effulgent Āchārya of the Rūpānuga sampradāya. At the time of his departure, Śrīla Saraswatī Ṭhākur requested Śrīla Śrīdhar Mahārāj to sing the sampradāya's anthem, Śrī Rūpa Mañjarī Pada. As Śrīla Śrīdhar Mahārāj's beloved disciple, Śrīla Govinda Mahārāj, and only Śrīla Govinda Mahārāj, sang this song for him on suitable occasions. Śrīla Govinda Mahārāj served Śrīla Śrīdhar Mahārāj as a servant, a friend, and an affectionate guardian. All the stages of the relationship between Guru and disciple described in the Rūpānuga sampradāya were present between Śrīla Govinda Mahārāj and Śrīla Śrīdhar Mahārāj. Śrīla Govinda Mahārāj's service to Śrīla Śrīdhar Mahārāj illustrates the meaning of Śrī Rūpa Mañjarī Pada, that the service of Śrī Rūpa (Śrī Guru) is one's life, wealth, joy, fulfilment—everything.\n\nGovindābhidham\n\nHe is known as Śrīla Govinda Mahārāj.\n\nIn 1985 Śrīla Śrīdhar Mahārāj conferred sannyās upon Śrīla Govinda Mahārāj, giving him the name 'Bhakti Sundar Govinda'. Śrīla Govinda Mahārāj once asked Śrīla Śrīdhar Mahārāj about his name, and Śrīla Śrīdhar Mahārāj replied, \"My Deity is Govinda and my kuṇḍa is Govinda, so your name must be Govinda.\"\n\nŚrīla Śrīdhar Mahārāj established his Maṭh on the bank of Śrī Govinda Kuṇḍa and Śrī Govindasundar as its central Deity. Holding both this place and this form of the Lord most dearly within His heart, he gave the name Govinda to his dearmost associate, Śrīla Govinda Mahārāj, who he treasured like his most precious jewel (Govindābhidham Indirāśrita-padaṁ hastastha-ratnādivat).\n\nGo in Govinda means 'world', 'cows', 'Vedas', and 'senses'. Govinda means 'He who pleases' all of these. As the Supreme Lord Govinda's dear devotee, all of Lord Govinda's qualities shine through Śrīla Govinda Mahārāj. Those who had the fortune of knowing him rejoice when they recall his charming divine presence.\n\nUjjvalaṁ vara-tanuṁ bhakty anvitaṁ sundaram\n\nHis beautiful, exalted, effulgent form is filled with devotion.\n\nŚrīla Śrīdhar Mahārāj has the deepest esteem for Śrīla Govinda Mahārāj. He remarked, \"Actually in many ways he is more qualified than I am.\" Also: \"He came [to me] with some previous wealth\"; \"He is a natural paramahaṁsa\"; \"His service never leaves the nirguṇa plane\"; and \"If you get to know him more intimately, you will come to understand what sort of transcendental character he has.\"\n\nŚrīla Govinda Mahārāj created the atmosphere of Vraja Dhām wherever he went. His seemingly simple, yet deeply loving and profound personality can only be understood as a manifestation of the aprākṛta realm. His seniors, peers, and followers all marvelled at the beauty of his form and the sweetness and strength he exhibited as he related naturally and intimately with all. His captivating affection awakened the dormant spirit of devotion from within the hearts of thousands and forcibly inspired them to dedicate their lives to the service of Śrī Guru and Śrī Gaurāṅga.\n\nViśva-gurum\n\nHe is the Guru of the world.\n\nŚrīla A. C. Bhaktivedānta Swāmī Prabhupād requested Śrīla Govinda Mahārāj to tour the world with him in the mid '70s to preach to his disciples. Because Śrīla Govinda Mahārāj was Śrīla Śrīdhar Mahārāj's personal doctor and Śrīla Śrīdhar Mahārāj's health was unstable at that time, Śrīla Govinda Mahārāj declined. At that time both Śrīla Śrīdhar Mahārāj and Śrīla Swāmī Mahārāj prophesied that in the future he would tour the world and inspire their followers on the path of pure devotion.\n\nIn the early '80s, when Śrīla Swāmī Mahārāj's disciples and admirers, who were mostly Westerners, started to frequent Śrī Chaitanya Sāraswat Maṭh, seeking guidance and shelter, Śrīla Śrīdhar Mahārāj did not readily accept them because of his advanced age and ill health. It was only when Śrīla Govinda Mahārāj promised to look after them following Śrīla Śrīdhar Mahārāj's passing that Śrīla Śrīdhar Mahārāj sheltered and initiated them.\n\nFollowing the disappearance of Śrīla Śrīdhar Mahārāj in 1988, Śrīla Govinda Mahārāj, as the President-Sevāite-Āchārya of Śrī Chaitanya Sāraswat Maṭh, toured the world twenty-four times over the course of eighteen years. He oversaw the opening of over 100 centres on six continents and the distribution of over 350 publications in twenty languages. He crossed linguistic and cultural boundaries and inspired thousands of people of all ages by communicating with them heart-to-heart. He would often recall with a beaming smile, \"The sun never sets on Śrī Chaitanya Sāraswat Maṭh.\"\n\nDivya-Bhagavat-premṇo hi bīja-pradam\n\nHe distributes the seed of divine love for the Supreme Lord.\n\nIn 1986 Śrīla Śrīdhar Mahārāj fulfilled the desire he had cherished for almost forty years and established Śrīla Govinda Mahārāj as the President-Sevāite-Āchārya of Śrī Chaitanya Sāraswat Maṭh and all of its centres worldwide. Thereafter Śrīla Govinda Mahārāj initiated the sincere seekers who approached Śrī Chaitanya Sāraswat Maṭh into the service of Śrī Guru and Śrī Gaurāṅga. Initiation is compared to the planting of a seed, the seed of divine love, within the heart. As seeds must be nourished and protected in order to bear fruit, so Śrīla Govinda Mahārāj affectionately guided the disciples of Śrīla Śrīdhar Mahārāj, Śrīla Swāmī Mahārāj, and himself in their practising lives. His wisdom, experience, character, and charm inspired deep faith within all, and his instructions dispelled all inauspiciousness. He encouraged everyone, regardless of the position they were in, and emphasised chastity, sincerity, love, and affection. He showed by example that serving Śrī Guru and Vaiṣṇava and practising Śrīman Mahāprabhu's saṅkīrtan-dharma is the real path towards the service of Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa in Vraja Dhām. His foremost advice was to adhere to Śrīman Mahāprabhu's formula for chanting the Holy Name: to be humble, be tolerant, and give honour to others without expecting it for oneself.\n\nBeyond\n\nHis Divine Grace Śrīla Bhakti Sundar Govinda Dev-Goswāmī Mahārāj departed from this world on 27 March 2010. Since then his Samādhi Mandir, the Temple of Love and Affection, has been erected in his honour at Śrī Chaitanya Sāraswat Maṭh Nabadwīp, and his faithful followers continue to serve Śrī Guru and Śrī Gaurāṅga according to his instructions.\n\nBefore his departure, Śrīla Govinda Mahārāj declared Śrīla Bhakti Nirmal Āchārya Mahārāj to be his Successor as the Sevāite-President-Āchārya of Śrī Chaitanya Sāraswat Maṭh, and appointed Āchāryas from Western countries to lead the development of Śrī Chaitanya Sāraswat Maṭh worldwide.\n\nŚrīla Govinda Mahārāj's divine grace continues to shine brightly in the hearts of his sincere followers and through his divine instructions.\n\nSummarising the glory of His Divine Grace is an impossible task, yet Śrīla Govinda Mahārāj himself has done so in a poem he wrote in his youth, in which he expressed his aim in life.\nSvarūpodbodhana\n\nAwakening the True Self\n\nŚrīla Bhakti Sundar Govinda Dev-Goswāmī Mahārāj\n\nOriginally published in Śrī Gauḍīya Darśan:  \nVolume 1, Issue 4, Tuesday, 15 November 1955\n\nāmi guru-dāsa—nahi anya\n\nI am a servant of Guru—nothing else.\n\nāmi kariba bhramana chaudda-bhuvana  \nsvarūpe sabāya kari' udbodhana  \nhāte la'ye yāba premera niśāna  \ndharāba svarūpa chihna [1]\n\nI will travel throughout the fourteen worlds awakening everyone to their true self. I will go with the banner of divine love in hand and cause everyone to recognise the sign of the true self.\n\nāmi chhāḍāba sakale sarva-dharma  \nkariba chūrṇa jñāna o karma  \nrachiba viśāla bhakati-harmya  \nguru-dāsa nahi anya [2]\n\nI will induce everyone to abandon all religions. I will demolish the pursuits of liberation and worldly enjoyment. I will construct a grand palace of devotion. I am a servant of Guru—nothing else.\n\nāmi bhāṅgiba chhanda lāgāba dhanda  \nvāchālera mukha kariba banda  \nmṛtyure dhari dāniba śanda  \nnāhi kapaṭatā dainya [3]\n\nI will break the customs, bemuse everyone, shut the mouths of the garrulous, hold back death, and distribute good fortune to all. I will do so humbly, without deceit.\n\nsei mahābhāratera mahān parva  \nyāhāra prakāśe hayechhe kharva  \ndekhāba tā̐hāra asīma garva  \nkaitave kari khinna [4]\n\nI will show the unlimited glory of He whose manifestation brought the great portion of the Mahābhārata to an end, and efface all duplicity.\n\nāmi bājāba jagate vijaya-ḍaṅkā  \nghuchāba sakala dvandva-śaṅkā  \nbahāba viśve bhakati-gaṅgā  \ntuṣi' hari labhi puṇya [5]\n\nI will sound the kettle-drums of victory throughout the world, dispel all quarrel and fear, and cause the Ganges of pure devotion to flow throughout the universe. Satisfying the Lord in this way, I will attain good fortune.\n\nāmi āryānārya mlechchha sabāya  \nlāgāiba ba'le kṛṣṇa-sevāya  \nchaḍāiba sabe golokera nā'ya  \npṛthvī kariba śūṇya [6]\n\nI will forcibly engage all—the noble, the ignoble, and the barbarous—in Kṛṣṇa's service. I will board them all in the boat to Goloka and empty the earth.\n\nāmi chālāba sakale guru-pada bale  \nvādāma tuliba hari-bola bale  \nmahāmāyā-vinī chhalanā chhalile  \nkariba chinna-bhinna [7]\n\nI will guide them all by the power of my Guru's feet. I will hoist the boat's sails by the power of chanting 'Hari'. If Mahāmāyā presents any illusion, I shall cut it asunder.\n\nāmi chinmaya-dhāme chālāiba tarī  \nchatur-bhuja habe yata nara-nārī  \nsthāvara jaṅgama sabe labhi hari  \nhabe deva deva mānya [8]\n\nI will drive the boat to the spiritual world, and all the men and women will become four-armed. All moving and inert beings will attain Hari and become worshippable to the demigods.\n\nsabe eka parichaye dibe parichaya  \nlabhibe svarūpa amṛta-maya  \npūjibe śrī-hari dibe jaya jaya  \nnehāri' ha-iba dhanya [9]\n\nEveryone will identify with the same identity, realise their immortal self, worship Śrī Hari, and call out, 'Jay! Jay!' Seeing this, I will be satisfied.\n\nāmi guru-dāsa nahi anya\n\nI am a servant of Guru—nothing else.\nBack cover\n\nनिगमकल्पतरोर्गलितं फलं  \nशुकमुखादमृतद्रवसंयुतम्पि  \nबत भागवतं रसमालयं  \nमुहुरहो रसिका भुवि भावुकाः\n\nnigama-kalpa-taror galitaṁ phalaṁ  \nśuka-mukhād amṛta-drava-saṁyutam  \npibata bhāgavataṁ rasam ālayaṁ  \nmuhur aho rasikā bhuvi bhāvukāḥ\n\n\"O devotees! O relishers of rasa! Until your death in this world, constantly drink the rasa of Śrīmad Bhāgavatam, the ripened fruit of the wish-fulfilling tree of the Vedas enriched with nectar from the mouth of Śukadev Goswāmī.\"\nEnd Notes\n\n(1) athāpi te deva padāmbuja-dvaya-  \nprasāda-leśānugṛhīta eva hi  \njānāti tattvaṁ bhagavan-mahimno  \nna chānya eko 'pi chiraṁ vichinvan\n\n(SB: 10.14.29)\n\n\"O Lord, one who receives even a trace of the grace of Your lotus feet can know Your glory. Without Your grace no one can know You, even after searching for a long time.\"\n\n(2) īśvarera kṛpā-leśa haya ta' yāhāre  \nsei ta' īśvara-tattva jānibāre pāre\n\n(Cc: Madhya, 6.83)\n\n\"One who receives even a trace of the Lord's grace can understand the Lord.\"\n\n(3) Garga Ṛṣi's praṇām mantra for Vedavyās:\n\nvadana-kamala-niryadyasya īyūṣam ādyaṁ  \npibati jana-varo 'yaṁ pātu so 'yaṁ giraṁ me  \nbadara-vana-vihāraḥ satyavatyāḥ kumāraḥ  \npraṇata-durita-hāraḥ sārṅga-dhanv-avatāraḥ\n\n(Gs: 1.1.2)\n\n\"May Satyavatī's son, Kṛṣṇa Dvaipāyan Vedavyās, the Avatār of Viṣṇu who removes the surrendered souls' sorrow and enjoys Pastimes in the forest of Badari, he from whose lotus mouth the sādhus drink the original nectar, guide my words.\"\n\n(4) An archetypal verse from the Upaniṣads:\n\ntad ejati tan naijati tad dūre tad v antike  \ntad antar asya sarvasya tad u sarvasyāsya bāhyatah\n\n(Īu: 5)\n\n\"The Lord moves, and He does not move. He is far, and He is near. He is within everything, and He is outside of everything.\"\n\n(5) yad vai tat sukṛtam raso vai saḥ\n\n\"He who is perfect (Brahma) is the embodiment of rasa (Kṛṣṇa).\"\n\n(6) The Bhāgavat-chatuḥ-ślokī mantram (SB: 2.9.33–36):\n\naham evāsam evāgre nānyad yat sad asat param  \npaśchād ahaṁ yad etach cha yo 'vaśiṣyeta so 'smy aham\n\n\"Prior to creation, only I existed. Nothing else—gross, subtle, or primordial—existed. After creation, only I exist, and after the annihilation only I remain.\"\n\nṛte 'rthaṁ yat pratīyeta na pratīyeta chātmani  \ntad vidyād ātmano māyāṁ yathābhāso yathā tamaḥ\n\n\"Know that which seems to exist without Me or doesnot seem to exist within Me to be My illusion, comparable to a reflection or darkness.\"\n\nyathā mahānti bhūtāni bhūteṣūchchāvacheṣv anu  \npraviṣṭāny apraviṣṭāni tathā teṣu na teṣv aham\n\n\"As the material elements exist within all beings, large and small, yet also exist outside of them, so I exist both inside and outside of all beings.\"\n\netāvad eva jijñāsyaṁ tattva-jijñāsunātmanaḥ  \nanvaya-vyatirekābhyāṁ yat syāt sarvatra sarvadā\n\n\"One who seeks the Absolute should directly and indirectly search for Me, who exist everywhere and always.\"\n\n(7) yāha, bhāgavata paḍa vaiṣṇavera sthāne  \nekānta āśraya kara chaitanya-charaṇe  \nchaitanyera bhakta-gaṇera nitya kara 'saṅga'  \ntabe ta' jānibā siddhānta-samudra-taraṅga\n\n(Cc: Antya, 5.131–2)\n\n\"Go and study Śrīmad Bhāgavatam with the Vaiṣṇavas. Sincerely take shelter of Śrī Chaitanya's feet and always associate with His devotees. Then you will understand the wavesin the ocean of Truth.\"\n\n(8) ohe prabhu dayāmaya, tomāra charaṇa-dvaya,  \nśruti-śiropari śobhā pāya  \nguru-jana-śire punaḥ, śobhā pāya śata guṇa,  \ndekhi āmāra parāṇa juḍāya\n\n(Gītā-mālā: 1.1.1)\n\n\"O merciful Lord! Seeing Your feet become more beautiful atop the heads of the scriptures and a hundred times more beautiful atop the head of my Guru soothes my heart.\"\n\n(9) \"Reasoning is inconclusive; the scriptures are variegated; one whose conception is not distinctive cannot become a ṛṣi. True dharma is thus secretly concealed. Therefore, the way of the great souls is the path.\"\n\n(10) sādhūnāṁ sama-chittānāṁ sutarāṁ mat-kṛtātmanām  \ndarśanān no bhaved bandhaḥ puṁso 'kṣṇoḥ savitur yathā\n\n(SB: 10.10.41)\n\n\"As there is no darkness when one's eyes see the sun, so there is no bondage when one sees the equipoised sādhus whose hearts are exclusively dedicated to Me.\"\n\n(11) tulayāma lavenāpi na svargaṁ nāpunar-bhavam  \nbhagavat-saṅgi-saṅgasya martyānāṁ kim utāśiṣaḥ\n\n(SB: 1.18.13)\n\n\"There is no comparison between even a moment of association with the Lord's associates, and heaven or liberation. So what is to be said of mortal benedictions?\"\n\n(12) \"By Śrī Guru's grace the soul crosses over this world and reaches Kṛṣṇa.\"\n\n(13) \"Make the teachings from the lotus mouth of Śrī Guru one with your heart; do not desire anything else.\"\n\n(14) \"Attachment to Śrī Guru's feet is the best path. By his mercy all desires are fulfilled.\"\n\n(15) \"He who gave me the gift of eyes, who revealed divine knowledge in my heart, is my lord birth after birth.\"\n\n(16) \"Śrī Guru gives pure devotion and destroys ignorance. The Vedas sing of his character.\"\n\n(17) \"(Having become indifferent to the material world), one in search of the ultimate good should surrender to a Guru who is equipoised and adept in both the scriptures and the divine.\"\n\ntatra bhāgavatān dharmān śikṣed gurv-ātma-daivataḥ  \namāyayānuvṛttyā yais tuṣyed ātmātma-do hariḥ\n\n(SB: 11.3.22)\n\n\"Considering Śrī Guru to be one's beloved Lord, one should sincerely and submissively learn from him Bhāgavat-dharma: that by which Śrī Hari, He who gives Himself (to His devotee), is satisfied.\"\n\n(18) \"I offer my obeisance unto Śrī Guru, who opened my eyes, which were blinded by the darkness of ignorance, with the salve of divine knowledge.\"\n\n(19) \"Śrī Guru is an ocean of mercy and the friend of the fallen.\"\n\n(20) \"I offer my obeisance unto the lotus feet of Śrī Guru, praising and meditating upon His glory at the three junctions of the day. By his grace, one gains the Lord's grace. Without his grace, one has no shelter anywhere.\"\n\n(21) vaikuṇṭhāj janito varā madhu-purī tatrāpi rāsotsavād  \nvṛndāraṇyam udāra-pāṇi-ramaṇāt tatrāpi govardhanaḥ  \nrādhā-kuṇḍam ihāpi gokula-pateḥ premāmṛtāplāvanāt  \nkuryād asya virājato giri-taṭe sevāṁ vivekī na kaḥ\n\n(Śrī Upadeśāmṛta: 9)\n\n\"Above Vaikuṇṭha is Mathurā, where Kṛṣṇa took birth. Above Mathurā is Vṛndāvan, where Kṛṣṇa enjoys the rāsa festival. Above Vṛndāvan is Govardhan, where Kṛṣṇa plays amorously. Above Govardhan is Rādhā Kuṇḍa, where the nectar of love overflows. What wise soul would not serve Rādhā Kuṇḍa beside Govardhan Hill?\"\n\n(22) nāham ijyā-prajātibhyāṁ tapasopaśamena vā  \ntuṣyeyaṁ sarva-bhūtātmā guru-śuśrūṣayā yathā\n\n(SB: 10.80.34)\n\n[Kṛṣṇa:] \"I, the Soul of all beings, am not satisfied by fire sacrifices, raising children, austerities, or self-control (by adherence to the duties of a brahmachārī, gṛhastha, vānaprastha, or sannyāsī) as much as I am by service to Śrī Guru.\"\n\n(23) ādadānas tṛṇaṁ dantair idaṁ yāche punaḥ punaḥ  \nśrīmad rūpa-padāmbhoja-dhūliḥ syāṁ janma-janmani\n\n(Śrīla Dās Goswāmī)\n\n\"Taking a blade of grass between my teeth, I pray again and again, \"May I be a particle of dust at Śrī Rūpa's lotus feet birth after birth.\"\n\n(24) \"The embodiment of spiritual energy, consciousness, and ecstasy, Śrī Kṛṣṇa, who is known as Govinda, is the Supreme Lord of all Lords. He has no origin, He is the origin of all, and He is the cause of all causes.\"\n\n(25) \"He has neither a material body nor material senses. There is nothing equal to or greater than Him. His divine energy is naturally divided into three aspects: knowledge, strength, and action.\"\n\n(26) eka-patnī-vrata-dharo rājarṣi-charitaḥ śuchiḥ  \nsva-dharmaṁ gṛha-medhīyaṁ śikṣayan svayam ācharat\n\n(SB: 9.10.54)\n\n\"Rāmachandra, who had the pure character of a saintly king and adhered to the vow of having only one wife,taught the dharma of a house-holder by practising it Himself.\"\n\n(27) yeṣāṁ śrīśa-prasādo 'pi mano hartuṁ na śaknuyāt  \nsiddhāntatas tv abhede 'pi śrīśa-kṛṣṇa-svarūpayoḥ  \nrasenotkṛṣyate kṛṣṇa-rūpam eṣā rasa-sthitiḥ\n\n(Brs: 1.2.59)\n\n\"Nārāyaṇ's grace cannot capture the hearts of Kṛṣṇa's devotees. Although Nārāyaṇ and Kṛṣṇa are theologically nondifferent, according to rasa, Kṛṣṇa is superior. Kṛṣṇa's supremacy is established by rasa.\"\n\n(28) dadhi-mathana-ninādais tyakta-nidraḥ prabhāte  \nnibhṛta-padam agāraṁ ballavīnāṁ praviṣṭaḥ  \nmukha-kamala-samīrair āśu nirvāpya dīpān  \nkavalita-navanītaḥ pātu māṁ bāla-kṛṣṇaḥ\n\n(Padyāvalī: 143)\n\n\"Awakened in the morning by the sound of butter being churned, Bāla Kṛṣṇa soundlessly enters the homes of the gopīs, quickly blows out their lamps with His lotus mouth, and devours their fresh butter. May He protect me.\"\n\n(29) yan martya-līlaupayikaṁ svayoga-  \nmāyā-balaṁ darśayatā gṛhītam  \nvismāpanaṁ svasya cha saubhagardheḥ  \nparaṁ padaṁ bhūṣaṇa-bhūṣaṇāṅgam\n\n(SB: 3.2.12)\n\n\"Śrī Kṛṣṇa showed the power of His divine energy and assumed His form suited for human-like Pastimes, which astonishes even Him, which is the ultimate abode of fortune (the ultimate expression of beauty, wealth, power, fame, knowledge, and detachment), and which is the ornament of His ornaments.\"\n\n(30) \"The best of all of Kṛṣṇa's Pastimes are His human-like Pastimes. His human-like form is His original form. His cowherd-boy dress, flute-playing, adolescence, and superb dancing perfectly suit His human-like Pastimes. Please hear of Kṛṣṇa's charming form. One drop of its beauty floods the whole of the three worlds and attracts every living entity within them.\"\n\n(31) evaṁ sva-chitte svata eva siddha  \nātmā priyo 'rtho bhagavān anantaḥ  \ntaṁ nirvṛto niyatārtho bhajeta  \nsaṁsāra-hetūparamaś cha yatra\n\n(SB: 2.2.6)\n\n\"Joyfully and resolutely serve the Soul who is self-manifest within the heart, the beloved, absolute, worshippable, all-pervading Lord. Doing so eradicates the cause of one's entanglement in worldly existence (ignorance).\"\n\n(32) kaṁ prati kathayitum īśe samprati ko vā pratītim āyātu  \ngo-pati-tanayā-kuñje gopa-vadhūṭī-viṭaṁ brahma\n\n(Cc: Madhya, 19.98)\n\n\"Who can I tell, and who will believe, that the Absolute hunts the wives of cowherd men in the groves along the banks of the Yamunā?\"\n\nHere Raghupati Upādhyāya suggests to Śrīman Mahāprabhu that by His appearance the gloryof madhura-rasa will be revealed to the world.\n\n(33) kālena naṣṭā pralaye vāṇīyaṁ veda-saṁjñitā  \nmayādau brahmaṇe proktā dharmo yasyāṁ mad-ātmakaḥ\n\n(SB: 11.14.3)\n\n[Kṛṣṇa:] \"During the creation I spoke to Brahmā the Vedic teachings, the dharma of devotion to Me, which was lost during the annihilation by the influence of time.\"\n\n(34) \"Under My direction My material energy produces this world of moving and stationary forms. Thus the world repeatedly manifests.\"\n\n(35) sa vai puṁsāṁ paro dharmo yato bhaktir adhokṣaje  \nahaituky apratihatā yayātmā suprasīdati\n\n(SB: 1.2.6)\n\n\"Humanity's supreme dharma is unconditional and unalloyed (self-manifestand irresistible) devotion to thetranscendental Lord, which completely satisfies the soul.\"\n\n(36) \"Day and night, dusk and dawn, winter and springtime come and go again and again. Time plays on, and life passes away, but the disease of desire never leaves me. (Everything in this world comes and goes in the course of time except the false hope of material happiness.)\"\n\nŚrīla Govinda Mahārāj wrote two poetic Bengali translations of this verse by Śaṅkar Āchārya:\n\ndivasa-rajanī sandhyā-sakāla  \nṣaḍ-ṛta-sane khele mahākāla  \nnāśe paramāyu; tabu āśā-vāyu  \nnā chhāḍe āmāya, e viṣama-dāya!\n\n\"Time plays with the days, nights, dusks, dawns, and six seasons, and takes away my life. Yet the disease of desire never releases me. This is my dire condition!\"\n\ndivasa-yāminī-sandhyā-prabhāta   \nvasanta-śarat kare yātāyāta   \nkāla sethā khele nāśe paramāyu   \ntabu nāhi chhāḍe duṣṭa āśā-vāyu\n\n\"Day and night, dusk and dawn, and fall and spring come and go. Time plays amongst them and takes away my life. Yet the disease of wicked desire never releases me.\"\n\n(37) Paradise Lost is an epic by John Milton in which the fate of the souls who turn away from God is examined. There death, sorrow, and emptiness are understood to be the consequences of accepting Satan's proposal, \"Better to reign in Hell than to serve in Heaven.\"\n\n(38) kṛṣṇa—sūrya-sama; māyā haya andhakāra  \nyā̐hā kṛṣṇa, tā̐hā nāhi māyāra adhikāra\n\n(Cc: Madhya, 22.31)\n\n\"Kṛṣṇa is like the sun; Māyā is like darkness. Wherever Kṛṣṇa is present, Māyā is absent.\"\n\n(39) \"Arise! Awake! Find a master and learn from him.\"\n\n(40) \"I appear age after age to properly establish dharma.\"\n\n(41) vikrīḍitaṁ vraja-vadhūbhir idaṁ cha viṣṇoḥ  \nśraddhānvito 'nuśṛṇuyād atha varṇayed yaḥ  \nbhaktiṁ parāṁ bhagavati pratilabhya kāmaṁ  \nhṛd-rogam āśv apahinoty achireṇa dhīraḥ\n\n(SB: 10.33.39)\n\n\"A sober soul who faithfully hears about and then describes Viṣṇu's play with the Vraja-gopīs quickly attains supreme devotion to the Lord and soon leaves behind his heart disease of material desire.\"\n\n(42) \"We meditate on the Supreme Truth, who is eternally self-existent beyond illusion, autonomous, and directly and indirectly aware of everything. He creates, maintains, and destroys this world. He revealed the Absolute to Brahmā through the heart and bewilders the demigods. In Him the three creations (the modes of goodness, passion, and ignorance) exist like transformations of light, water, and earth.\"\n\n(43) rājan patir gurur alaṁ bhavatāṁ yadūnāṁ  \ndaivaṁ priyaḥ kula-patiḥ kva cha kiṅkaro vaḥ  \nastv evam aṅga bhagavān bhajatāṁ mukundo  \nmuktiṁ dadāti karhichit sma na bhakti-yogam\n\n(SB: 5.6.18)\n\n[Śukadev Goswāmī says to Mahārāj Parīkṣit:] \"O King, Lord Mukunda is the maintainer, teacher, worshippable friend, and patriarch of you and the Yadus; sometimes He is even your servant. He gives liberation to those who serve Him, but He never gives them loving devotion (like He has given you, who do not desire liberation or enjoyment).\"\n\n(44) \"I serve Govinda, the original Lord, whose illustrious bodily effulgence is the origin of the indivisible, inconceivable, and unlimited Brahma, within which innumerable universes filled with unlimit-edly variegated creations and opulences exist.\n\n(45) asad vā idam agra āsīt tato vai sad   \najāyata tad ātmānaṁ svayam akuruta  \ntasmāt tat sukṛtam uchyate iti  \nyad vai tat sukṛtam raso vai saḥ  \nrasām hy evāyaṁ   \nlabdhvānandī bhavati  \nko hy evānyat kaḥ prāṇyāt   \nyad eṣa ākāśa ānando na   \nsyāt eṣa hy evānandayāti\n\n\"At first, this world was unmanifest. It manifested from Brahma, He who created Himself and is thus known as perfection ('self-made'). He who is perfect is rasa. Only by attaining rasa (Him) does the soul become joyful. If He, Joy, the Supreme, did not exist, who would live, who would breath? He alone gives joy to everyone.\"\n\n(46) \"That which is beyond material nature is inconceivable. Do not try to understand it intellectually.\"\n\n(47) \"I serve Govinda, the original Lord, who is lovingly served by hundreds of thousands of goddesses and tends His bountiful cows in His abodes made of spiritual gemstone, which are covered by millions of wish-fulfilling trees.\"\n\n(48) \"Karma is far inferior to buddhi-yoga. Take refuge in buddhi-yoga; those who seek the fruits of their actions are misers.\"\n\n(49) \"A yogī is superior to persons engaged in austerities (tapasvīs), superior to persons of knowledge (jñānīs), and superior to persons of action (karmīs). Therefore, one should be a yogī. A faithful soul who serves Me with his heart dedicated to Me is the best of all yogīs. He is most intimately united with Me.\"\n\n(50) \"Those who know the Absolute Truth say that it is non-dual knowledge and that it is known as Brahma, Paramātmā, and Bhagavān.\"\n\n(51) \"The Supreme Lord, who resides in the hearts of His dear devotees who give up all other concerns and serve His feet, absolves any sins they happen to commit.\"\n\n(52) śraddhāvān jana haya bhakti-adhikārī  \n'uttama', 'madhyama', 'kaniṣṭha'—śraddhā-anusārī\n\n(Cc: Madhya, 22.64)\n\n\"Faithful persons are qualified for devotion. According to the strength of their faith, they are either advanced devotees, intermediate devotees,or neophyte devotees.\"\n\n(53) smarantaḥ smārayantaś cha mitho 'ghaugha-haraṁ harim  \nbhaktyā sañjātayā bhaktyā bibhraty utpulakāṁ tanum\n\n(SB: 11.3.31)\n\n\"Remembering and reminding one another of the Lord, who absolves all sin, with devotion (prema) produced by devotion (sādhana), devotees become ecstatic.\"\n\n(54) \"Accepting everything that is favourable for devotion to Kṛṣṇa, rejecting everything unfavour­able for devotion to Kṛṣṇa, being confident that Kṛṣṇa will grant His protection, embracing Kṛṣṇa's guardianship, fully offering one's self to Kṛṣṇa, and feeling oneself to be lowly are the six aspects of śaraṇāgati.\"\n\n(55) \"Practising devotion to the Supreme Lord, Kṛṣṇa, quickly produces detachment and unconditional knowledge.\"\n\n(56) \"The body is a net of illusion, and the material senses are one's enemies; they throw the soul into the ocean of mundanity. Among the senses, the tongue is the most voracious and wicked; it is very difficult to conquer the tongue in this world. O brothers! Kṛṣṇa is very merciful: to conquer the tongue He has given us His remnants! Accept this nectarean food, sing the glories of Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa, and with love call out, 'Chaitanya! Nitāi!'\"\n\n(57) \"The earnestness of a detached devotee who uses objects appropriately in their relationship with Kṛṣṇa is known as yukta-vairāgya (proper detachment). The rejection of objects related to the Lord by liberation-seekers who consider them mundane is known as phalgu-vairāgya (false detachment).\"\n\n(58) \"Know lust and anger—which are produced by the mode of passion, extremely voracious, and malicious—to be the soul's enemies in this world (the cause of the soul's propensity to sin).\"\n\n(59) \"By surrendering myself at Your lotus feet, I have become supremely joyful. All sadness has gone away and I have no anxiety. I see joy in all directions.\"\n\n(60) \"Know Bhāgavat-dharma to be the means explained by the Lord for even the ignorant to easily attain Him.\"\n\n(61) madhura-madhuram etan maṅgalaṁ maṅgalānāṁ  \nsakala-nigama-vallī-sat-phalaṁ chit-svarūpam  \nsakṛd api parigītaṁ śraddhayā helayā vā  \nbhṛgu-vara nara-mātraṁ tārayet kṛṣṇa-nāma\n\n(Skanda-purāṇa)\n\n\"Kṛṣṇa's Name, the sweetest of the sweet, the most auspicious of the auspicious, the eternal spiritual fruit from the vine of the Vedas, delivers a man if He is chanted even once, faithfully or neglectfully.\"\n\n(62) vāchyaṁ vāchakam ity udeti bhavato nāma svarūpa-dvayaṁ  \npūrvasmāt param eva hanta karuṇaṁ tatrāpi jānīmahe  \nyas tasmin vihitāparādha-nivahaḥ prāṇī samantād bhaved  \nāsyenedam upāsya so 'pi hi sadānandāmbudhau majjati\n\n(Śrī Nāmāṣṭakam: 6)\n\n\"O Holy Name! You appear in two forms: the Named (Your divine human-like form) and the Name (Your divine sound form). We know that Your second form is even more merciful than Your first: even one who has committed offences to the Named is immersed in an ocean of constant joy by chanting the Name.\"\n\n(63) tuṇḍe tāṇḍavinī ratiṁ vitanute tuṇḍāvalī-labdhaye  \nkarṇa-kroḍha-kaḍamvinī ghaṭayate karṇārbudebhyaḥ spṛhām  \nchetaḥ prāṅgaṇa-saṅginī vijayate sarvendriyāṇāṁ kṛtiṁ  \nno jāne janitā-kiyadbhir amṛtaiḥ kṛṣṇeti varṇadvayi\n\n(Cc: Antya, 1.99)\n\n\"When they dance in my mouth, they produce the desire for countless mouths; when they enter my ears, they produce the desire for billions ofears; when they appear in the courtyard of my heart, they take control of all of my senses. I do not know how muchnectar is produced by the two syllables Kṛṣ-ṇa.\"\n\n(64) akiñchanasya dāntasya śāntasya sama-chetasaḥ  \nmayā santuṣṭa-manasaḥ sarvāḥ sukha-mayā diśaḥ\n\n(SB: 11.14.14)\n\n\"For a detached, controlled, peaceful, equipoised soul, whose heart is satisfied by Me, all directionsare filled with joy.\"\n\n(65) \"O Hari! O Kṛṣṇa! O Yādava!O Gopāl! O Govinda! O Rāma! O Madhusūdan! I offer myobeisance to You again and again.\"\n\n(66) \"It is certainly true that the Holy Name delivers anyone who once offencelessly calls, remembers, or hears Him, regardless of whether they pronounce the Name correctly or incorrectly, in separated parts, or as a single word. If, however, the Name is used for the body, wealth, prestige, greed, or evil, He does not produce any (spiritual) result quickly (though He does eventually).\"\n\n(67) Śrīla Govinda Mahārāj composed a poem Bengali, entitled Daśa-vidha Nāmāparādha, which summarises and explains the verses listing the offences to the Holy Name in the Padma-purāṇa.\n\nhari-nāma mahāmantra sarva-mantra-sāra  \nyā̐dera karuṇā-bale jagate prachāra  \nsei nāma-parāyaṇa sādhu, mahājana  \ntā̐hādera nindā nā kariha kadāchana [1]\n\nThe Hari-nām mahāmantra is the best of all mantras and is distributed throughout the world by the mercy of the sādhus devoted to the Name. Never criticise such great souls.\n\nvrajendra-nandana kṛṣṇa sarveśvareśvara  \nmaheśvara ādi tā̐ra sevana-tatpara  \nnāma chintāmaṇi kṛṣṇa-chaitanya-svarūpa  \nbheda-jñāna nā karibe līlā-guṇa-rūpa [2]\n\nVrajendra Nandan Kṛṣṇa is the Lord of all Lords. Śiva and all other gods are dedicated to His service. The Name is a wish-fulfilling jewel and a spiritual form of Kṛṣṇa Himself. Do not consider Kṛṣṇa's Name to be distinct from His Form, Qualities, or Pastimes.\n\n\"guru kṛṣṇa-rūpa hana śāstrera pramāṇe  \nguru-rūpe kṛṣṇa kṛpā kare bhāgyavāne\"  \nse gurute martya-buddhi avajñādi tyaji  \niṣṭa-lābha kara, nirantara nāma bhaji [3]\n\n\"The scriptures confirm that Guru is a form of Kṛṣṇa (SB: 11.17.27). In the form of Guru, Kṛṣṇa bestows His mercy upon the fortunate.\" Give up the conception that Guru is a mortal, and all other types of disrespect, and attain your cherished goal: serving the Name eternally.\n\nśruti, śruti-mātā-saha sātvata purāṇa  \nśrī-nāma-charaṇa-padma kare nīrājana  \nsei śruti-śāstra yebā karaye nindana  \nse aparadhīra saṅga karibe varjana [4]\n\nThe Vedas, their mother, Gāyatrī, and Śrīmad Bhāgavatam worship the Holy Name's lotus feet. Reject the association of any offender who criticises these scriptures.\n\nnāmera mahimā sarva-śāstrete vākhāne  \natistuti, hena kabhu nā bhāviha mane  \nagastya, ananta, brahmā, śivādi satata  \nye nāma-mahimā-gāthā saṅkīrtana-rata  \nse nāma-mahimā-sindhu ke pāibe pāra?  \natistuti bale yei—sei durāchāra [5]\n\nThe Name's glories are proclaimed in all the scriptures. Never consider such glorification to be exaggerated praise. Agastya, Ananta, Brahmā, Śiva, and so on are always devoted to chanting the Name's glories. Who can cross the ocean of those glories? Anyone who considers them exaggerated praise is wicked.\n\nkṛṣṇa-nāmāvali nitya golokera dhana  \nkalpita, prākṛta, bhāve—aparādhi-jana [6]\n\nKṛṣṇa's Names are the eternal wealth of Goloka. Anyone who considers Them imaginary or mundane is an offender.\n\nnāme sarva-pāpa-kṣaya sarva-śāstre kaya  \nsārā-dina pāpa kari sei bharasāya—  \nemata durbuddhi yāra sei aparādhī  \nmāyā-pravañchita, duḥkha bhuñje niravadhi [7]\n\nAll the scriptures declare that the Name destroys all sin. The wicked who sin all day long in expectation of this are offenders. They are deluded by māyā and suffer perpetually.\n\natulya śrī-kṛṣṇa-nāma pūrṇa-rasa-nidhi  \ntā̐ra sama nā bhāviha śubha-karma ādi [8]\n\nŚrī Kṛṣṇa's incomparable Name is a brimming reservoir of rasa. Chanting the Name should never be considered equal to pious worldly action (such as adhering to vows, practising renunciation, performing austerities, making sacrificial offerings, and so on).\n\nnāme śraddhā-hina-jana—vidhātā vāñchita  \ntāre nāma dāne aparādha suniśchita [9]\n\nThose who have no faith in the Name have been deceived by Providence. To give the Name to them is certainly an offence.\n\nśuniyāo kṛṣṇa-nāma-māhātmya apāra  \nye prīti-rahita, sei narādhama chhāra  \nahaṁtā mamatā yāra antare bāhire  \nśuddha kṛṣṇa-nāma tāra kabhu nāhi sphure [10]\n\nThose who remain devoid of love for Kṛṣṇa's Name even after hearing His boundless glories are deplorable, fallen souls. The pure Name of Kṛṣṇa never reveals Himself to those who are internally and externally ridden with egotism and possessiveness.\n\nei daśa aparādha kariyā varjjana  \nye sujana kare harināma saṅkīrtana  \napūrva śrī-kṛṣṇa-prema labhya tāre haya  \nnāma-prabhu tāra hṛde nitya vilasaya [11]\n\nGreat souls who avoid these ten offences and engage in Hari-nām-saṅkīrtan attain unprecedented Śrī Kṛṣṇa-prema. The Name Himself plays within their hearts eternally.\n\n(68) mad-guṇa-śruti-mātreṇa mayi sarva-guhāśaye   \nmano-gatir avichchhinnā yathā gaṅgāmbhaso 'mbudhau  \nlakṣaṇaṁ bhakti-yogasya nirguṇasya hy udāhṛtam   \nahaituky avyavahitā yā bhaktiḥ puruṣottame\n\n(SB: 3.29.11-12)\n\n\"The primary characteristic of supramundane devotion is that simply by hearing of My glory one's thoughts uninterruptedly flow towards Me, the Lord who resides within the hearts of all, just as the waters of the Ganges naturally flow towards the ocean. Such pure devotion to Me, the Supreme Lord, is unconditional and unobstructed (self-manifest and unalloyed).\"\n\n(69) \"I offer my obeisance unto the Supreme Lord, Hari. Chanting His Name absolves all sin, and offering obeisance to Him dispels all sorrow.\"\n\n(70) cheto-darpaṇa-mārjanaṁ bhava-mahā-dāvāgni-nirvāpaṇaṁ  \nśreyaḥ-kairava-chandrikā-vitaraṇaṁ vidyā-vadhū-jīvanam  \nānandāmbudhi-vardhanaṁ prati-padaṁ pūrṇāmṛtāsvādanaṁ  \nsarvātma-snapanaṁ paraṁ vijayate śrī-kṛṣṇa-saṅkīrtanam\n\n(Śrī Śikṣāṣṭakam: 1)\n\n\"Śrī Kṛṣṇa-saṅkīrtan cleanses the mirror of consciousness, extinguishes the raging forest fire of material existence, shines moonlight on the evening lotus of good fortune, is the life of the wife of divine knowledge, expands the ocean of ecstasy, is the taste of full nectar at every moment, and soothes the entire self. May Śrī Kṛṣṇa-saṇkīrtan be supremely victorious!\"\n\n(71) Śrīman Mahāprabhu's Guru, Śrī Īśvar Purī, quoted this verse:\n\nevaṁ-vrataḥ sva-priya-nāma-kīrtyā  \njātānurāgo druta-chitta uchchaiḥ   \nhasaty atho roditi rauti gāyaty   \nunmāda-van nṛtyati loka-bāhyaḥ\n\n(SB: 11.2.40)\n\n\"Chanting the Name of their beloved Lord, those who have dedicated their lives to Him develop deep loving attachment to Him. Their hearts melt and they loudly laugh, cry, shout, sing, and dance like madmen, unconcerned with the public.\"\n\n(72) vande nanda-vraja-strīṇāṁ pāda-reṇum abhīkṣṇaśaḥ  \nyāsāṁ hari-kathodgītaṁ punāti bhuvana-trayam\n\n(SB: 10.47.63)\n\n\"I constantly offer my obeisance to the Vraja-gopīs, whose singing of Kṛṣṇa's glory purifies the three worlds.\"\n\n(73) śravaṇaṁ kīrtanaṁ viṣṇoḥ smaraṇaṁ pāda-sevanam  \narchanaṁ vandanaṁ dāsyaṁ sakhyam ātma-nivedanam  \niti puṁsārpitā viṣṇau bhaktiś chen nava-lakṣaṇā  \nkriyeta bhagavaty addhā tan manye 'dhītam uttamam\n\n(SB: 7.5.23–24)\n\n\"Hearing, chanting, remembering, serving, worshipping, praying, considering oneself a servant, considering oneself a friend, and surrendering the self—if devotion consisting of these nine practices isfirst offered to the Supreme Lord and then directly performed I consider that the greatest learning.\"\n\n(74) \"The Supreme Lord is immediately bound within the heart by the fortunate souls who desire to hear Śrīmad Bhāgavatam (from the mouth of the Vaiṣṇava).\"\n\n(75) ādau śraddhā tataḥ sādhu-saṅgo 'tha bhajana-kriyā  \ntato 'nartha-nivṛttiḥ syāt tato niṣṭhā ruchis tataḥ  \nathāsaktis tato bhāvas tataḥ premābhyudañchati  \nsādhakānām ayaṁ premṇaḥ prādurbhāve bhavet kramaḥ\n\n(Brs: 1.4.15–16)\n\n\"First faith, then association with sādhus, then engagement in service, then the eradication of evils, then constancy, then taste, then attachment, then ecstasy, and then love. These are the stages in the awakening of a practitioner's love.\"\n\n(76) \"Seeing the Supreme, a wise soul's taste for the mundane disappears.\"\n\n(77) \"Although Kṛṣṇa's Name, Form, Qualities, and Pastimes cannot be grasped by the material senses, They manifest themselves on the tongue and to the other senses through one's service attitude.\"\n\n(78) \"Arise! Awake! Find a master and learn from him. The wise say the path is sharp as a razor's edge, difficult to traverse, and arduous (impossible to traverse without a Guru).\"\n\n(79) bhaktis tu bhagavad-bhakta-saṅgena parijāyate   \nsat-saṅgaḥ prāpyate pumbhiḥ sukṛtaiḥ pūrva-sañchitaiḥ\n\n(Bṛhan-Nāradīya-purana)\n\n\"Devotion arises through the association of the Lord's devotees. The soul attains the association of devotees through his previously acquired sukṛti.\"\n\n(80) dharmaḥ projjhita-kaitavo 'tra paramo nirmatsarāṇāṁ satāṁ\n\n(SB: 1.1.2)\n\n\"Śrīmad Bhāgavatam teaches the supreme dharma, which completely rejects all cheating and is for sādhus who are non-envious.\"\n\n(81) \"The Lord's Name is to be chanted constantly with more humility than a blade of grass, tolerance like that of a tree, respect for everyone, and without desire for respect from anyone.\"\n\n(82) \"What are the use of eyes that do not behold Kṛṣṇa's moon-like face, which is the origin of the nectar of all beauty and the songs of His flute?\"\n\n(83) \"The acme of pleasure is love; the acme of love is ecstasy; and the acme of ecstasy is Mahābhāva. The embodiment of Mahābhāva is Śrī Rādhā Ṭhākurāṇī, the mine of all good qualities, the crest jewel of Kṛṣṇa's lovers.\"\n\n(84) na pāraye 'haṁ niravadya-saṁyujāṁ  \nsva-sādhu-kṛtyaṁ vibudhāyuṣāpi vaḥ  \nyā mābhajan durjaya-geha-śṛṅkhalāḥ   \nsaṁvṛśchya tad vaḥ pratiyātu sādhunā\n\n(Śrīmad Bhāgavatam: 10.32.22)\n\n\"Your meeting with Me is irreproachable. You have served Me, completely severing yourselves from the difficult-to-overcome bondage of family life. I cannot compensate you for this even within the lifetime of a demigod. May your own virtuous acts be your compensation.\"\n\n(85) \"I surrender to the lotus feet of the fountain of madhura-rasa, Śrī Rādhā. Though their name is not found within the narrative of the glorious, nectarean Śrīmad Bhāgavatam, Śrī Rādhā's lotus feet are present within every word of it and are the basis of the Pastimes of the Akhila-rasāmṛta-mūrti, Śyām.\"\n\n(86) \"Svayam Bhagavān Kṛṣṇa is different from the Kṛṣṇa who appeared in the Yadu dynasty. He never leaves Vṛndāvan.\"\n\n(87) [Rādhārāṇī sings:] \"Our attach­ment first arose through eye contact. It has increased daily and reached no limit. He is not man, and I am not woman. Understanding this, Cupid pressed our hearts together.\"\n\n(88) \"Who caused Me to hear Śyām's Name? Entering through My ears into the core of My being, Śyām's Name overwhelmed My heart. I do not know how much nectar is present within Śyām's Name. My heart is unable to leave Him. As I chant His Name, I am overcome. O friend! How shall I meet Him? The power of His Name affects Me so. What will the touch of His body do? If I see where He lives, how shall I maintain my vow of chastity? I decided to forget Him, but it was impossible. What shall I do? What is the solution? Dvija Chaṇḍī Dās says, 'A chaste girl thus dishonours Her family and offers Her youth.'\"\n\n(89) \"O Flute Player, You know that Your youth astonishes the three worlds, and both You and I know of My anxiousness (because of it). What can I do, O Flute Player, to fully behold Your beautiful lotus face again in solitude?\"\n\n(90) \"O Lord whose heart is melted with mercy for the poor! O Lord of Mathurā! When shall I see You again? In separation from You, My broken heart trembles. O Beloved! What shall I do now?\"\n\n(91) kṛṣṇa-līlā amṛta-sāra, tāra śata śata dhāra,  \ndaśa-dike vahe yāhā haite  \nse chaitanya-līlā haya, sarovara akṣaya,  \nmano-haṁsa charāha tāhāte\n\n(Cc: Madhya, 25.271)\n\n\"May the swan of your heart play in the inexhaustible reservoir of Śrī Chaitanya's Pastimes, from which hundreds of streams of the ultimate nectar of Kṛṣṇa's Pastimes flow in all directions.\"\n\n(92) \"I serve the inconceivable, original Lord, Śyāmasundar Govinda, whom the sādhus always see within their hearts through eyes of devotion tinged with the salve of love.\"\n\n(93) \"Purchase ecstatic devotion to Kṛṣṇa wherever it is available! The only price is hankering.It is not attainable by acting piously (practising vidhi-bhakti) for ten million lifetimes.\"\n\n(94) \"Intoxicated with the joy of saṅkīrtan, the surrendered souls worship rāga-mārg from within the posture of vidhi-mārg.\"\n\n(95) \"O Govardhan, the Divine Couple liberally enact Their Pastimes of maddened love in your caves. Please grant me a dwelling beside you so I can see Their Pastimes.\"\n", "meta": {"pile_set_name": "BookCorpus2"}}
{"text": "\n\n### Casanova Killer\n\n### An SSCD Crime Thriller\n\n### By Tallulah Grace\n\nCopyright 2012 Tallulah Grace\n\nSmashwords Edition\n\nThe names, places and events contained within this book are fictional. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.\n\nAll rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including recording, photocopying or any other information storage and retrieval system without prior, written permission of the Author.\n\n**Visit** this page **to subscribe to my newsletter and be the first to learn of new releases, contests and giveaways.**\n\nCasanova Killer takes place a year before the Timeless Trilogy. So many readers wanted to read more about Dylan, that I created this book to offer a peek into his life as an FBI agent. This step back in time also showcases Jerry as his partner, showing us why she's a little in love with Dylan and gun shy about men in general.\n\nJerry (Jeri) takes center stage in the remaining novels of the SSCD Series.\n\n# Table of Contents\n\nPrologue 2\n\nChapter One 4\n\nChapter Two 6\n\nChapter Three 11\n\nChapter Four 13\n\nChapter Five 20\n\nChapter Six 21\n\nChapter Seven 26\n\nChapter Eight 28\n\nChapter Nine 33\n\nChapter Ten 40\n\nChapter Eleven 45\n\nChapter Twelve 54\n\nChapter Thirteen 71\n\nChapter Fourteen 78\n\nChapter Fifteen 84\n\nChapter Sixteen 90\n\nChapter Seventeen 97\n\nChapter Eighteen 103\n\nChapter Nineteen 107\n\nChapter Twenty 116\n\nEpilogue 119\n\nPrologue\n\nThe sapphire waters of the Pacific churned into frothy white spray against the rocky coastline of Muir Beach.\n\n\"It's like a painting,\" Jenna remarked as she removed her strappy sandals. The planked boardwalk, outlining the cliff ridge high above the shore, did not appear friendly to stiletto heels, especially ones that cost more than most monthly mortgage payments.\n\n\"Wait until you see the view from the point.\" The man she knew as Robert smiled and held out his hand. She took it.\n\nThe first coral streaks of sunrise complemented the ever-brightening blue water as they strolled along the snaking walkway. The majesty of the landscape was theirs alone, for the moment.\n\nJenna sighed. It had been a magical evening; dinner at a new bistro followed by dancing at the exclusive Portman Lounge. Robert knew how to treat a woman. His impeccable manners and attention to her every whim reaffirmed her decision to cheat on John, her lover of several years.\n\nLong used to the finer things in life, courtesy of her married lover, Jenna especially enjoyed being visible on a man's arm in the city that she loved. John gave her the lifestyle she craved, but hidden rendezvous and trysts tailored to his schedule soon grew tiresome. Meeting Robert changed all of that.\n\nThe timing couldn't have been better, she marveled once again. John had no sooner left on a weeklong business trip than Robert had appeared by her side. His natural charm, movie-star good looks and British accent drew her to him immediately. The Rolex shining from his wrist and the Maserati he left parked at the curb didn't hurt either. The past week had been a whirlwind of sightseeing adventures, prosaic phone calls and romantic evenings. Jenna was head over heels.\n\nAs the blunt end of the walkway came into view, Jenna's Robert congratulated himself on a flawless execution. The past few days had been perfect; the woman beside him practically oozed her adoration.\n\n\"Ooh, I wish I'd brought my camera,\" Jenna skipped the last few feet, pulling Robert along behind her. \"The view is stunning!\"\n\n\"It certainly is,\" Robert's voice warmed her even as his breath tickled her neck. Standing close to her back, he wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her against him. She wiggled against his erection, just enough to let him know that she noticed.\n\nThe sound of the waves, crashing against the rocks below and the ever-constant wind masked the snap of the stiletto blade opening.\n\n\"Till we meet again, my sweet,\" he murmured, quickly drawing the blade in a single line across her throat. With no more effort than tossing garbage into a pail, he flung Jenna's body over the wooden rail to the sea below.\nChapter One\n\n\"Get your size fifteens off my desk, Dawes.\" Nate Banks scowled at the man lounging in his office.\n\n\"Sorry, Boss,\" Dylan Dawes replied automatically as he passed a hand over his eyes and slowly straightened. \"Just catching a few winks.\"\n\n\"You can sleep on the plane.\" Nate tossed a file into Dylan's lap as he passed. \"We leave for California in an hour.\" The desk phone beeped loudly as he depressed a single digit. \"Jerry, my office,\" he barked into the speaker, not waiting for a reply.\n\n\"What's up?\" Dylan asked, opening the folder, his fatigue forgotten at the prospect of a new case. The team had just wrapped the nasty business of chasing one Michael Phillips across three states. The self-proclaimed Phantom had eluded them for two months, killing sixteen teenagers in the process.\n\nThey were due for a break, but as one of the few teams the FBI trained in profiling and tracking serial killers, the Special Serial Crimes Division rarely knew any downtime.\n\n\"What's up, Boss?\" The female voice echoing Dylan's question preceded the woman into the room by scant seconds. Jerry Forbes, Dylan's partner and friend, dropped into the second chair facing Nate's desk. Dylan, long accustomed to her striking beauty, shook his head at the bright sparkle in her eyes.\n\n\"How can you be so perky? We've been up for three nights straight!\" He grumbled, then grimaced when she poked him in the arm.\n\n\"One of the benefits of youth, old man,\" she teased, even though Dylan was only a few months older than her. Turning to Nate, she became serious. \"What've we got?\"\n\n\"Three women murdered, in and around San Francisco. Throats slashed, bodies left in remote areas. All of the victims were affluent brunettes, aged twenty-five to twenty-nine.\" Nate recited the facts. \"The last one was found yesterday, much quicker than the others. She'd only been dead for six to eight hours. The other two went undiscovered for seven and twelve days, respectively. No DNA evidence on any of the victims, thanks to the time lapse and the weather conditions in the area. Finding the latest victim so quickly gave us our best shot at DNA, but it rained most of the day, washing away whatever might have been present on the body.\"\n\n\"Was the discovery a lucky fluke, or do you think he's getting bored with waiting for notoriety?\" Jerry asked.\n\n\"Hard to say. He tossed her over a cliff leading down to the Pacific. The spot is a popular viewing point for tourists and locals alike, but theoretically, she could have lain there for weeks without being noticed.\"\n\n\"Who found her?\" Dylan asked.\n\n\"A local news team doing a touristy-type puff piece flew over the area in a helicopter. A flash from a crystal on the dead woman's shoes caught their attention. Before they realized it, they'd broadcast the woman's body live to three counties.\"\n\n\"Let me guess, now it's viral,\" Jerry spat out in disgust.\n\n\"You know it. Never underestimate the public's fascination with a gruesome murder. Anyway, it establishes the pattern, so we're on it.\" Nate sat back, templed his fingers and looked at Jerry. \"We need you undercover on this one.\"\n\n\"How so?\"\n\n\"You're his type: tall, beautiful, brunette. Now we just have to turn you into a socialite. Oh, and a mistress.\" He tried to hide his grin as he watched the meaning of his words sink into Jerry's consciousness.\n\n\"Socialite? Me?\" Jerry shook her head. \"Mistress I can handle, no biggy, but a socialite?\" She leveled an incredulous gaze at first Dylan and then Nate. \"I don't really have to go to parties and all that stuff, do I?\"\n\n\"You'll have to live your cover, you know this.\" Nate stood, bringing the meeting to an end. \"Don't worry, you'll be fine.\"\n\n\"Easy for you to say, you grew up fancy, I didn't,\" Jerry grumbled as she walked to the door.\n\nDylan laughed. \"I find it curious that you're more comfortable playing a mistress than you are in the role of a social butterfly. Anything you want to confess, Forbes?\"\n\n\"Bite me, Dawes. At least you don't have to get all dressed up and make small talk with highfalutin strangers, or does he?\" she asked Nate.\n\n\"As a matter of fact, yes, he does. Every mistress needs a keeper.\" Nate's eyes crinkled at the expression on Dylan's face.\n\n\"Come on, Boss, you know I hate that crap. With your background, you'd be perfect as Jerry's keeper.\" Dylan flashed a grin at Jerry, knowing that she'd hate the terminology. \"You grew up in that world, tossing Jerry and me into it is like serving hot dogs at the opera.\"\n\n\"My background is the problem. I know people in the circle you'll be infiltrating. They know me. The unsub is likely part of that group; we don't need to spook him before we get a handle on his identity.\" Nate stopped before entering the hallway and turned to face his agents. \"You'll both be fine. Don't let the cover get in the way of the mission. The unsub thinks he's untouchable; he's already stalking his next victim.\"\n\n\"You said the victims were affluent. Do you mean they're wealthy in their own right, or wealthy thanks to their benefactors?\" Jerry looked pointedly at Dylan.\n\n\"The latest victim was solidly middle class, but her married 'benefactor' kept her in style, complete with a six figure bank account. The first victim's expenses were covered by a corporation, one that her companion owned. He's not married, she came from old money, so their arrangement could have been a social tit for tat.\" Nate nodded at the folder Dylan held. \"Uncover the circumstances for the second victim's lifestyle. We should know if 'mistress' is truly part of the victimology or if it's a by-product. Good question, Jerry.\"\n\n\"Thanks, Boss.\"\n\nNate nodded. \"Get packed, guys. Wheels up in forty-five.\"\nChapter Two\n\n\"We appreciate the assist, thank you, sir.\" Nate raised the window shade on the Learjet as he disconnected the call. So much for sleeping their way across the country. His one-sided conversation with the FBI Director of International Relations had already awakened Jerry and Dylan. At least they had made it to Colorado before the call came in.\n\nNate tossed his cell onto the table separating the four captain's chairs. \"Change of plans, guys. Better get some coffee.\" He rubbed the sleep from his eyes as Dylan accommodated the three of them, bringing back three steaming mugs from the kitchenette in the rear of the cabin.\n\n\"Thanks,\" Nate told him and sipped the warm liquid. \"Seems like our unsub has been busy across the pond,\" he began.\n\n\"Europe?\" Jerry felt the cobwebs slowly melt from her brain.\n\n\"England, Central London specifically, and the Italian Riviera.\"\n\n\"Both are playgrounds for the rich and fabulous.\" Dylan said wryly. \"Our boy likes the finer things.\"\n\n\"Interpol is sending an agent to work the case with us. Ethan Barnes has been tracking the unsub across Europe, he'll meet us in San Francisco.\" Nate nodded to Jerry. \"He'll be your partner for this one. Dylan and I will work behind the scenes.\"\n\nJerry didn't care for the idea of pretending to be the mistress of an agent she'd never met before. Living in close quarters with a man she knew, respected, and yes, even had a small crush on, was enough of a challenge. Now she had to get cozy with a stranger. She knew better than to complain; Nate would not be putting her in this position if he had a choice.\n\n\"Whatever you say, Boss.\" Nodding in Dylan's direction, she grinned. \"He can't be any worse than this one.\"\n\nGrateful for her easy acceptance, Nate nodded. \"Barnes has already established a cover as a wealthy playboy. No point in duplicating efforts.\"\n\nDylan, thrilled with the turn of events, decided not to tease Jerry about being an international plaything. \"I take it the unsub's signature is the same?\"\n\n\"Identical, down to the right to left slice across the neck. His victims are all beautiful brunettes, loaded or wealth-accessible. They spend their time shopping, being pampered, or otherwise occupied with the man paying their bills. He killed three in Central London and four in Italy.\"\n\n\"What about the drop zones, Central London is not exactly filled with remote locations.\" Dylan questioned.\n\n\"He left the bodies in warehouses, south of the city. That's all I know, at the moment. Barnes can fill us in on the details, but the Director says he's confident that our unsub and the 'Casanova Killer' are one in the same.\"\n\n\"You're kidding, right? Casanova Killer? Jeez, sounds like a bad Gothic novel.\"\n\n\"Exactly, but that's how he's known in Europe. Courtesy of the press, I'm sure. Apparently Barnes was closing in when the unsub disappeared, two months ago.\"\n\n\"Lucky us, he surfaced in San Francisco.\" Dylan gathered their coffee cups for a refill.\n\n\"What's his timeline?\" Jerry flipped open her laptop and began making notes.\n\n\"Six months in London and two months on the Riviera.\"\n\n\"Three kills already in San Francisco in less than a month. He's escalating.\" Jerry's fingers flew over the keys.\n\n\"He may be compensating for the time he laid low, between Italy and here.\" Dylan offered his opinion along with the fresh coffee.\n\n\"It's not unusual for a serial's initial kills to be spaced farther apart, while they perfect their technique,\" Jerry added.\n\n\"True. It's also possible that San Francisco offers a more fertile hunting ground for his preferences.\" Nate opened the manila folder housing the bulk of the information they'd received from the San Francisco Police Department. \"Let's make a quick profile, based on what we know of his US kills.\"\n\n\"All three victims are white females, in their mid-to-late twenties, with similar socio-economic circumstances, though their backgrounds differ. All were brunettes, between five feet ten inches and six feet tall.\" Nate read from the police reports.\n\n\"Hopefully, the victimology of his European kills will clarify whether or not being a mistress is a crucial part of his signature.\" Dylan remarked.\n\n\"Any restraint marks?\" Jerry asked.\n\n\"No ligature marks present on any of the bodies. The toxicology report isn't back yet on the latest victim, but the first two revealed no signs of drug use. If he's restraining them, his methods leave no trace.\"\n\n\"Did he kill them at the disposal site?\" Jerry stopped typing as Nate flipped through the pages.\n\n\"Yes, and no. All three women had their throats slashed at the top of a steep incline. They were still bleeding out when he tossed them down the hill.\"\n\n\"He must be well over six feet and in good shape, or he wouldn't be able to maneuver them over the edge so easily.\"\n\nJerry added Dylan's observations to the list.\n\n\"Assuming they were not restrained, they must have gone with him voluntarily.\" Jerry mused.\n\n\"Gives credence to the term 'Casanova Killer.' Maybe he romances them before he kills them.\"\n\n\"Possibly, but let's focus on what we know about these murders, charming European moniker notwithstanding.\" Nate passed Dylan the coroner's reports. \"No defensive wounds on any of the women. Most likely, they didn't see it coming\"\n\n\"So he stands behind them, close enough to slice their throats, without them putting up a fight. No restraints and no defensive wounds suggest that the victims were comfortable with him, unless he surprised them somehow.\" Dylan reclined his seat, closing his eyes to aid his concentration. \"Did the victims have vehicles on site?\"\n\n\"Good question.\" Nate shuffled the papers again. \"The victim's cars were all found at their residences. So, he must have taken them to the kill site.\"\n\n\"What about interviews with friends and neighbors? Any man, other than their 'keeper,' on the scene?\" Jerry wrinkled her nose in distaste. \"We really need a better word than 'keeper.'\"\n\nDylan grinned, but his eyes remained closed. \"Take your pick: Sugar Daddy, Main Squeeze, Companion, John...\" his voice trailed off.\n\n\"'John is inaccurate, they're not prostitutes, not in the strictest sense of the word. These women were not doing anything illegal.\" Jerry protested.\n\n\"One of the men paying the bills was not married, so 'mistress' is also inaccurate across the board. Let's not get hung up on semantics. Call the boyfriends 'companions.'\" Nate looked up at Jerry. \"To answer your question, no, the first two victims did not have a new man in their life, at least according to the few interviews that the police conducted. No info on the latest victim.\"\n\n\"We should dig a little deeper. Chances are good that at least one of the women confided in her best friend, if she was seeing someone other than her companion.\" Jerry made a few notes.\n\n\"Good idea. We'll re-interview their closest friends.\" Nate nodded at Jerry. \"Though you'll probably have better luck getting close to them while you're undercover.\"\n\n\"What, you think there's some sort of club, or local hangout, for mistresses?\" Dylan laughed.\n\n\"No, smartass, but Jerry will be new in town. She'll need to join a yoga class, frequent the same spa, or whatever it is these women do all day.\"\n\n\"Yoga. Yuck.\" Jerry made a face. \"I could get behind spa visits, though. It's been awhile since I've been pampered. This assignment may not be so bad after all.\"\n\n\"You'd better hope that none of the besties are into dancing. I've seen your moves.\" Dylan nudged Jerry with his toe.\n\n\"Besties? What are you, thirteen? And, I'll have you know, I can cut a rug with the best of them. You're just jealous that I'll be spending my days with the ladies who lunch, while you'll be hitting the pavement, or twiddling your thumbs on surveillance.\" Jerry sneered at him, but he missed it.\n\n\"Cut a rug? What are you, sixty?\" Dylan chuckled, but still didn't open his eyes. He knew that keeping them closed would only make Jerry more aggravated. \"Besides, I'd much rather investigate Casanova than attend fancy-schmancy parties, or work on my tan.\" Dylan peeked at Jerry beneath his lashes, smiling at the thundercloud covering her face.\n\n\"At least I've got sense enough to fit into those fancy-schmancy parties. It's a good thing Interpol is sending their own agent, maybe now we won't blow the cover.\" Jerry sniped.\n\nNate was accustomed to Dylan and Jerry's back and forth. It was easy for him to ignore their banter as he scanned the remaining contents of the police files. There seemed to be a lot of information missing, either by a transmission mistake, or through shoddy police work. Surely the locals interviewed more than one neighbor, and one friend, of the first two victims. He made a mental note to request the complete files when they landed.\n\n\"Okay, if we assume the victims go with him willingly, and are comfortable being close to him, then he's either part of their social circle, or he meets them through their daily activities.\" Nate tapped his fingers on the armrest.\n\n\"He could be anything from a valet at a restaurant they frequent, to the guy installing their cable.\" Dylan sat up and reached for his laptop. \"We should check for any overlap during the last month of their lives.\"\n\n\"Sure, check, but I doubt that a woman who's living a life of luxury, courtesy of one man, would be willing to risk that falling apart for the cable guy.\" Jerry knew in her gut that she was right. \"However, she might be willing to trade up.\"\n\nDylan and Nate both looked at her.\n\n\"Trade up?\" Nate voiced their common question.\n\n\"Sure. Better looking, more money, maybe even marriage material, so she can get the whole enchilada, not just the peripheral pocket change.\" Jerry considered her theory before continuing. \"Maybe our guy is not only part of her circle, but the crème of the crop. Or at least he's making it appear so, to her.\"\n\n\"So, the unsub infiltrates her world, entices her to date him with a bigger bank account and his single, ready for marriage status, then goes in for the kill. Literally.\" Dylan nodded his head. \"I like it, it fits.\"\n\n\"It's definitely a possibility.\" Nate agreed. \"We'll know more when we get Interpol's profile.\" Nate stroked his chin absently, a sure tell that he was in deep thought. \"That scenario also fits the unsub's European moniker, Casanova Killer. You may be onto something, Jerry.\"\n\n\"Based on that theory, I think we should extend the age range of the standard profile, in a case like this, from a white male in his mid-to-late thirties, to one in his mid-to-late fifties.\" Dylan stretched his long legs into the aisle.\n\n\"Agreed.\" Nate nodded. Jerry typed as Nate continued. \"We know that his signature here is the same as for his kills in Europe. Selecting victims with similar physical characteristics, leaving them in plain sight in remote locations, killing them with a left to right slash across the throat, and his socio-economic preferences are the primary factors that led Barnes to believe he's relocated to San Francisco.\"\n\n\"He's either simulating wealth, or he is wealthy. If he's playing a role, the props for that lifestyle are not cheap. He'd need a lucrative source of income, just to buy the wardrobe and transportation to pull it off.\" Jerry stopped typing and considered the situation. \"His source of funds could be from other criminal activities. I mean if your passion is killing, then what's to stop you from robbery or dealing drugs?\"\n\n\"Barnes may shed more light on that, but it's a valid point. We've caught more than one serial by following the money trail.\" Nate nodded. \"But if he's dealing, it's high end. I doubt we'll find this one on the street corner.\"\n\n\"That brings up another point. How sure is Interpol that his first kills are the three in London? It's rare for a serial to start off without leaving a trace. He could have begun with prostitutes, or other high-risk victims, in order to perfect his craft.\" Dylan yawned and stretched.\n\n\"Surely they thought of that.\" Jerry commented. \"It's textbook profiling.\"\n\n\"I'm not so sure Interpol is big on psychological profiling. They're more into following concrete leads than insolating character traits and tracing patterns.\" Nate answered.\n\n\"No wonder they haven't caught him yet.\" Jerry mumbled. \"What do you know about Barnes?\"\n\n\"Not much. He's based in London and he's been with Interpol for eight years, primarily undercover. That's it, other than the fact that he's already established a cover we can use.\"\n\n\"Speaking of, what about my cover?\" Jerry asked.\n\n\"You have a bay front condo, very posh, I might add.\" Nate grinned at her raised eyebrows. \"A personal shopper is filling your closet as we speak. You're all set to be the perfect pampered princess.\"\n\n\"Sounds great, do I get to keep the clothes?\" Jerry looked hopeful.\n\n\"Not hardly. We're doing this on San Francisco's dime. They're very eager to put this to rest sooner, rather than later.\"\n\n\"Serial killers don't exactly inspire tourist traffic,\" Dylan scoffed, \"but this one is so specific, that the average person is exempt.\"\n\n\"His target victim pool is one of the reasons we have such a large budget on this assignment. Who do you think donates to the arts, and helps make the city what it is, in order to attract the tourists? The people he's targeting. Don't forget that two of the victims had married lovers. The killer's actions caused an investigation that put a serious kink in their extracurricular activities.\"\n\n\"So, our investigation is also funded, in part, by an element of the elite private sector.\" Jerry grinned. \"Somehow, that makes me happy.\"\n\n\"Hey, you play, you pay.\" Dylan quipped.\n\nNate ignored his remark. \"You'll also have a limo at your disposal. The driver is one of ours from the San Francisco office. That way, you'll have backup when Barnes isn't around.\"\n\n\"If our theory holds, the killer will likely make contact when I'm alone. Do we know the three victim's routines?\"\n\n\"Jimmy's working on it. Only two of the women had a driver, the third drove herself around. He's pulling the GPS info for the month before her death, to try and establish some sort of routine. He should have something for us by the time we land.\"\n\n\"I still can't believe the agency hired someone so young for tech support. What is he, twelve?\" Dylan had been waiting for the newbie to screw up, but so far his support had been invaluable.\n\n\"Age is just a number, old man.\" Jerry teased. \"Besides, Jimmy's legal, barely, and he's a helluva lot better than the last tech guy they gave us.\"\n\n\"True, but he still seems too young for the job.\"\n\n\"You're just jealous that you didn't graduate from MIT when you were eighteen.\" Jerry poked Dylan's outstretched leg with her toe.\n\nDylan rolled his eyes at her, then continued. \"Maybe it's not the women he's targeting, as much as the men. Jimmy should look for overlaps in their lives as well.\"\n\n\"He's doing it as we speak.\" Nate commented, pleased that Dylan made the connection. These two were the best of the best, in spite of their constant back-and-forth nonsense. He was proud to have them on his team.\n\n\"Doesn't seem like there's anything we can do until we land.\" Dylan moved to a seat at the back of the plane. \"Wake me when we get there.\"\nChapter Three\n\nEthan Barnes flashed the flight attendant his most charming smile as he exited the plane. It was habit, more than a conscious effort to captivate, even though the effect was decidedly beguiling.\n\nEthan's rakish good looks, and slightly dangerous swagger, were never wasted on any female who crossed his path. He looked a bit like he'd just stepped off the cover of a decadent romance novel, complete with longish black hair, and muscles rippling beneath his tailored shirt. Accustomed to the attention, Ethan had learned to take the unwanted admiration in stride.\n\nStepping into the early morning haze that hovered over the bay, he was suddenly grateful for the side benefits of his wealthy playboy cover, specifically the sleek black town car propping up the driver, holding a sign that read, \"Ethan Bennett,\" his cover for the assignment. Exhausted from the thirteen hour flight, he was in no mood to try and navigate an unfamiliar city during rush hour.\n\nHanding his bag to the driver, with a nod in lieu of a handshake, he slid into the backseat. Momentarily surprised to find it occupied by a lanky stranger, holding a steaming mug of something that smelled like heaven, he quickly regrouped and held out his hand.\n\n\"You must be Nate.\" The stranger took his hand, nearly crushing it, until Ethan gave back as good as he got.\n\n\"Dylan Dawes. Nate's busy coordinating with the locals. Nice to meet you, Barnes.\" Dylan had studied the man's profile, so he knew what to expect, but the agency photo did not capture the aloof, I'm-so-much-better-than-you attitude of the man who climbed into the car.\n\nThe expression on the stranger's face belied his words. His scowl told Ethan that he'd taken his measure, and he'd somehow come up lacking.\n\n\"Pleasure. Are you with the FBI?\"\n\n\"SSCD, Special Serial Crimes Division.\" Dylan took pity on the foreign pretty boy and handed him a coffee. \"It's black, cream and sugar are in the bag.\" He tossed a paper bag across the seat, silently amused when Ethan missed it.\n\n\"Thanks. Didn't get much sleep on the plane.\" Ethan read the other man's disapproval and accepted it. Men didn't immediately warm to him. Whether he inspired fear, jealousy, or something in between, he was used to a chilly reception from his male counterparts. He wondered briefly which part of his person the surly man sitting across from him objected to the most.\n\nIgnoring Dylan's continued assessment, Ethan prepared his coffee with three sugars and two creams. The man would come around eventually. Or not. At the moment, he couldn't care less about Dylan Dawes' opinion. He only wanted to solve this case, before another woman was killed.\n\nThe driver eased away from the curve before lowering the privacy glass between the front and back seats. Ethan, eyebrows raised, looked questioningly at Dylan.\n\n\"That's Rodney, he's one of us. He'll be one of your drivers, as well as part of your back-up team.\"\n\n\"Nice to meet you, Rodney.\" Ethan nodded at the man wearing the chauffer's cap. \"Any news on the case?\" He asked both men.\n\n\"No news on Casanova, and no new victims. Jerry's set up at the condo, she's your undercover partner. We have a video conference scheduled with Nate and the team in thirty minutes.\"\n\n\"Is Jerry local FBI, or is she SSCD?\"\n\n\"SSCD, one of the best.\" Dylan's scowl deepened as he leveled his eyes at Ethan.\n\nEthan read the warning shot from Dawes' expression. So, that was the problem, he thought. They were a couple and Dawes' didn't like the idea of Ethan barging in on his territory. It was jealousy that prompted his mistrust.\n\n\"Good to know. She'll have to be, to catch this guy. He's slick.\" Ethan sipped his coffee, glancing out the window at the majestic span of orange metal in the distance. He'd always planned to visit San Francisco, but for pleasure, not business. Still, the city made a good first impression.\n\n\"We're anxious to hear what you know about him, the file was pretty slim.\" Dylan studied the ease with which Barnes lounged on the plush leather as he surveyed the city. Slick was exactly the word he would use, and not just for Casanova.\n\n\"That's because there's not much to report. The guy's a ghost.\" Ethan preferred to give the details to everyone at once, no need to repeat himself, just to satisfy Dylan Dawes.\n\n\"And you're sure that we're after the same unsub.\" Dylan's statement was more of a question.\n\n\"Looks like. The signature is the same. His trail went cold in Italy two months ago.\" Ethan settled back into his seat. \"Tell me about Jerry. What does she look like?\"\n\nSon of a bitch, Dylan thought, we're chasing a serial and this one wants a little something on the side. Well, not if he had anything to say about it. The last thing Jerry needed was Pretty Boy Slick to mess with her head. Holding his tongue, but determined to warn Jerry, he responded simply.\n\n\"She fits the profile.\"\n\n\"Tall, brunette, gorgeous? Hard to imagine an FBI agent that looks like that. No offense, but all of the blokes I've met from your agency are more nondescript. By blokes, I mean female agents as well.\" Ethan enjoyed the anger that flitted across Dylan's face, but he couldn't say why.\n\n\"You won't have to imagine it for long. We're nearly there.\" Dylan did not rise to the other man's bait. Hiding a smirk, he thought that he probably wouldn't have to say anything to Jerry. She would see straight through this asshat.\nChapter Four\n\nJerry snapped the laptop closed after perusing Ethan Barnes's profile for the tenth time. The man's background gave her confidence in his abilities, but there was much more to being a partner than the blurbs and highlights captured in a personnel file. If he looked anything like his profile picture, Jerry knew she would have no trouble pretending to be enamored with him.\n\nPictures and recommendations aside, Jerry's biggest concern was that he would not respect her as an equal. Without fail, every male the agency had partnered her with, had assumed that her biggest asset was her looks. She invariably spent the first few weeks proving that her appearance took a backseat to her sharp mind and her skills in the field. Trouble was, she didn't have weeks to prove her abilities to Barnes. They needed to hit the ground working as a team, if they had a prayer of stopping Casanova before he killed another woman.\n\nJerry glanced at the oversized clock hanging above the onyx bar top. They should be here any minute. Her gaze touched on the opulent furnishings that filled the expansive living area, before landing on the incredible vista of the bay and the city. The fifteenth-floor, corner condo was wrapped in floor-to-ceiling glass. She could easily get lost in the views, as well as the luxuriously appointed, and slightly intimidating, living spaces. Her humble upbringing, and modest government salary, had not prepared her to live in such lavish elegance, in the heart of Nob Hill. Part of her was afraid she would get used to it.\n\nThe soft chime of the doorbell signaled her new partner's arrival. Jerry smoothed her hands over crisp linen pants, took a deep breath, and made her way to the door. Pasting on a smile that she hoped was welcoming and confident, she opened the door.\n\nInterpol's profile picture did not prepare her for the flesh-and-blood Adonis standing in the hall. Words of greeting lodged in her throat and her pulse rate soared, as she stood, and stared at, the most gorgeous man she'd ever met.\n\n\"What's the matter, Jer, cat got your tongue?\" Dylan smirked as he came up behind Ethan. \"You gonna let us in?\"\n\n\"Of course,\" Jerry found her composure and stepped aside, allowing the two men to enter.\n\n\"Jerry Forbes, Ethan Barnes.\" Dylan made the introduction on his way to the kitchen, leaving Jerry standing with her hand on the doorknob, and Ethan standing just inside the doorway, gripping a suitcase in each hand.\n\n\"Come in, please.\" Jerry swept her arm in an unconscious gesture of welcome, without removing her eyes from his piercing, green gaze. He seemed to look straight through her. Jerry felt a shiver run down her spine, but tried not to show it. \"It's a pleasure to meet you, Ethan.\"\n\n\"Likewise, I'm sure.\" Grateful that the speech portion of his brain managed to function on auto-pilot, Ethan couldn't seem to take his eyes off of the vision standing before him. In a split second, he clearly understood the meaning of the phrase \"struck by lightning.\" Tall and slender, with thick waves of caramel hair falling over both shoulders, Jerry Forbes stood nearly as tall as he, with sparkling blue eyes, shot with spears of green, set wide apart in a face that he could only think of as angelic. When her perfectly shaped eyebrows lifted in a silent question, Ethan realized that he'd been standing in the doorway, staring like a dumbstruck fool.\n\n\"Thank you,\" he murmured and stepped into the room, placing both cases on the shiny hardwoods. Stepping forward, he held out his hand.\n\nJerry still had not managed to look away from his intense gaze. From out of the blue, she imagined curling up against him on a rainy day, resting her head on his chest as his arms closed around her. She took his hand without hesitation, but as soon as their fingers touched, the comforting image morphed into one filled with white-hot passion that nearly took her breath away.\n\nEthan saw the flash of heat that deepened the blue, and brightened the green, in her eyes. He was having trouble masking his own reaction. Touching Jerry was like reaching his hand into a flame.\n\n\"You guys gonna stand there all day?\" Dylan came from the kitchen, coffee and muffin in hand. \"Nice digs, Jer. Damn site better than the Motel 6 we stayed in last week. What a dump.\"\n\nDylan's voice startled Jerry from her fantasy. She quickly retrieved her hand. \"So glad you approve. Ethan, would you like coffee?\"\n\n\"I would, thanks. What a spectacular view.\" Flashing a smile that sent Jerry's pulse into overdrive, Ethan moved to the windows.\n\n\"Stunning, isn't it? Wait until you see it at night.\" Jerry busied herself making coffee, and arranging a plate of pastries. \"Dylan, will Nate be joining us?\"\n\n\"Not in person. We'll video conference when Barnes is ready to share.\" Dylan propped his feet on the pewter and glass coffee table.\n\n\"I'm ready.\" Ethan ignored the barely disguised sneer in the other man's voice, and joined Jerry at the dinette table.\n\nDylan reached for the television remote, pressed a few buttons on his hand-held computer, and within seconds, Nate appeared on the oversized wall monitor.\n\n\"Nate Banks, meet Ethan Barnes.\" Dylan leaned back against the plush sofa, determined to take full advantage of the luxury while it was available.\n\nEthan raised his coffee cup to Nate. \"Pleasure. Thanks for letting me join your investigation.\"\n\nNate nodded, appreciating the fact that Barnes respected his position, even though both men knew that the decision to bring him in was out of Nate's hands.\n\n\"Glad you could join us. Morning Jerry. How's everything?\"\n\n\"Couldn't be better, Boss.\" She knew Nate was really asking if she was comfortable with Ethan.\n\n\"Good. Okay, Barnes, tell us what you know.\"\n\n\"You have the file, so you know the basics.\" Ethan began. \"As far as we know, Casanova began killing in Central London, ten months ago.\"\n\nJerry listened attentively as Ethan recapped the basics, adding his impressions of the killer, and outlining Interpol's efforts for identifying Casanova. She was captivated by his melodious tone and lilting accent, despite the horrendous crimes he was describing. As he spoke, she tried to place his home country without success. His speech contained hints of Australia, with an overtone of something exotic. As his file had not included background information, prior to his joining Interpol, she'd just have to find out on her own.\n\n\"So, you've been mingling with the rich and famous, hoping this guy will fall in your lap. Meanwhile, he jumped over here and started killing our women.\" Dylan knew he sounded surly, but he didn't care. Ethan Barnes rubbed him the wrong way.\n\n\"Not exactly, but I can understand why _you_ might take that approach.\" Ethan remained unruffled, smoothly turning Dylan's insult back on him. \"His last victim, Carolina Agave, was one of my informants. I approached her because she fit his profile to the letter, and I wanted her to be on guard.\" Ethan lowered his eyes and took a sip of cold coffee. \"The night before she was killed, she left me a message describing a new man, who had struck up a conversation with her, that evening, at a local nightclub. Her lover had not accompanied her, she was out with a few friends.\"\n\nEthan paused briefly and took a deep breath. No one interrupted him. \"I didn't get the message until the next day. As soon as I received it, I called round to her flat. According to a watchful neighbor, and a very hungry cat, she had not come home at all from the night before. We found her the next day, on the cliffs, just outside the city.\"\n\n\"What was the description?\" Nate asked.\n\n\"Tall, 6'3\" or 6'4\", she thought. Caucasian, blond hair and dark brown eyes. British accent, but he looked like a Nordic God. Her words, not mine.\"\n\n\"That's something to go on, at least, but he could easily change both his hair, and his eye color, if he thinks you're onto him.\" Jerry could tell that Ethan was disturbed by the story. Every instinct called for her to reach out to him, but she refrained.\n\n\"He knew we were onto him, all right.\" Ethan's eyes darkened in anger. \"Best we can figure, he overheard her leaving the message. She disappeared from the club, shortly after making the call, according to her friends, none of whom saw the man she met.\" Ethan took another deep breath and continued. \"From everything we know about his other kills, she was the only one he didn't romance, for at least a week, before the murder. She also had defensive wounds on her arms. She put up a fight.\"\n\n\"What about surveillance at the club?\" Dylan asked.\n\n\"It was ultra-private, no surveillance whatsoever.\"\n\n\"If he overheard her phone call, he could track it from her cell. How do you know you're not made?\" Nate leaned closer to the screen, his face filling the monitor.\n\n\"We used a disposable phone, I believe you call them burner phones. To answer your next question, I spoke with her, but she actually only ever met my partner. Any description she might have given him was of a petite, blond female she met at the gym.\"\n\n\"Where's your partner now?\" Dylan narrowed his eyes when he looked at Ethan.\n\n\"She's now a redhead on assignment in Ireland. We rarely work with the same team on consecutive cases.\" Ethan explained. \"She left the Riviera before we found Carolina's body. I stayed for another month, but he never resurfaced anywhere in Europe.\"\n\nJerry warmed Ethan's coffee, then passed him a muffin. \"We'd already concluded that he romances his victims, but we don't know if he exclusively selects mistresses. Is any wealthy brunette traveling in these elevated social circles fair game, or does he enjoy the power of taking another man's woman?\"\n\n\"Thanks.\" Ethan smiled. \"I can't say what he enjoys, but all of his victims have been in an exclusive relationship with a very wealthy, often married, man. I understand that the same holds true here.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" Jerry began. \"Two of the local victim's companions are married, the other is just filthy rich.\"\n\n\"If he knows that the authorities were onto him in Europe, wouldn't any new player with an accent, raise a red flag in San Francisco?\" Dylan directed his question to Nate.\n\n\"Possibly, but wealthy Europeans visit the city all the time. Casanova would need more information in order to make Ethan as an agent.\" Nate quickly scanned a file. \"Besides, his cover story is impeccable. What prompted you to spend the last few weeks in Greece? Did you have any leads at all?\" Nate asked Ethan.\n\n\"No leads, but I wanted to maintain my cover. I also spent time in Paris, prior to sailing the Mediterranean. I knew the bastard would resurface, I just didn't think it would be in the states.\"\n\n\"His coming here is probably your best chance to catch him. It's obvious that whatever you were doing in Europe wasn't working.\" Dylan stared at Ethan, practically daring him to argue.\n\nJerry shot Dylan a pointed look, designed to get him to back off. \"What Dylan means is that we work a little differently than Interpol. SSCD teams are trained to create a profile of the killer based on victimology, personality, and other identifying characteristics, such as their signature. Profiles help us reduce the number of available suspects, and sometimes, predict an unsub's next move.\"\n\n\"The psychology of the killer is just as important to your group as the who, what, when, where and how.\" Ethan nodded. \"I can see where that would be helpful. Have you profiled Casanova?\"\n\n\"Partially. The socio-economic patterns of his victims tell us that he's accustomed to wealth, either through his business relationships, or his own social network. My guess is that he visibly has all the trappings; flashy car, nice clothes, and so on, or these women would not risk their current relationships. He's educated, intelligent, and has the social skills necessary to fit in with the lifestyle.\"\n\n\"From everything we've learned so far, I'd say you were spot on. As adept as he is in infiltrating his victims' social circles, he's equally savvy about avoiding surveillance cameras or meeting friends of his targets.\"\n\n\"It's hard to believe that, in this age of candid camera, he could be invisible.\" Dylan stood, stretched, and headed for more coffee.\n\n\"Just another indicator that he has enough money at his disposal to change his appearance, his vehicles, and his home base, at will. Add to that the fact that we discovered the bodies of most of his victims, long after he killed them. Any surveillance vids available were either erased, or destroyed, in the meantime. The only two exceptions are Carolina, and the woman found on the cliffs, two days ago, Jenna.\" Ethan ran his hand through his hair. \"All of the victims here have been discovered more quickly than his other kills, except Carolina. If we've any chance at surveillance footage, I'd say we work backwards, starting with Jenna Pierce.\"\n\n\"We're already on it. For a socialite, Jenna led a relatively quiet life, from the bits and pieces we've unearthed so far. Her companion, John Meadows, had taken his family on two-week vacation in the South of France. He returns home tomorrow. I spoke with him earlier this morning, but he knew little of Jenna's daily routine. Our tech department is going over her credit card statements to try and form a pattern of her activities.\"\n\nJerry stood and began to pace, a sure sign that the wheels were turning. Ethan watched as she moved along the span of windows, openly admiring the unconscious grace with which she moved.\n\n\"Three kills in less than a month doesn't leave a lot of time for romancing his victims, even if he's working more than one at a time. He'd have to stalk them before hand, at least a little, to find the perfect intro into their lives.\" Jerry had no idea of the picture she made as she paced.\n\n\"He did disappear for two months. He could have been stalking them during that time, now he's picking them off, one by one.\" Dylan added as he surreptitiously watched Ethan watch Jerry. He didn't like the gleam in the other man's eye.\n\n\"You think he made a list, now he's working it? It's plausible, but that means that he could strike again, sooner than we initially calculated.\" Nate's phone buzzed as he spoke.\n\n\"I'd say the scenario is more than plausible, it's highly likely. Serials do not typically go dormant, unless they're dead or in prison. He had to be getting his kicks, even if he was only planning, and stalking.\" Jerry stopped and looked out the window, in the direction of the bridge. \"Stalking and creating a list could also be part of his process. How sure are you that he was in London for the entire six months when the bodies were found?\" She turned to face Ethan. \"Could he have already been on the Riviera, stalking his next group?\"\n\n\"Absolutely, even if he flew over for a few days at a time. It's only a little over one thousand kilometers between Portofino and London. The four bodies were strewn on the cliffs between Portofino and San Remo, but he met Carolina in a Portofino night club, so we think that was his base.\"\n\n\"If this holds true, he's already \"dating\" his next victim, maybe even the next two.\" Jerry started pacing again. \"We need to get me on that list.\"\n\n\"Jimmy should have a game plan for us by lunch today. Dylan, I need you to begin re-interviewing friends and neighbors. Check your email for the list.\" Nate looked straight at Ethan, but spoke to Jerry. \"Jerry, you and Ethan spend the morning getting to know each other. When you appear in public, you have to be convincing.\"\n\nEthan read between the lines of Nate's message. 'Hands Off, Keep it Professional' came through loud and clear. Jerry didn't seem to notice the innuendo, so Ethan nodded once at Nate to show he understood. What in the hell did these Americans think he was? Ethan thought. Between Dylan's barely disguised animosity, and Nate's private warning, the two men must think him as bad as Casanova.\n\n\"Will do, Boss. Thanks.\" Jerry smiled at Nate's face on the monitor as she turned.\n\nDylan switched off the television and searched his email for names and addresses. \"Looks like I'll be in the neighborhood most of the day. Call me if you need anything.\" He, too, addressed Jerry but stared at Ethan.\n\n\"Sure, sure. We'll be fine. Come back by for lunch, if you like. The fridge is stocked.\" Jerry stopped pacing long enough to say goodbye to Dylan.\n\n\"I may do that. Barnes.\" Dylan's unsmiling nod was a warning in itself.\n\nEthan was glad to see the man go. His attitude was beginning to get under his skin. After a long flight, and even longer few months, being scrutinized by Dylan Dawes was the last thing he needed. Turning his attention to Jerry, he leaned back, letting himself admire the focus and energy she was already devoting to this case. He could practically see her brain spinning as her long legs ate up the floor. Ethan's mind was moving almost as fast as Jerry's appeared to be, only his thoughts centered on her, not the case.\n\nDamn, had he ever seen such a beautifully enigmatic creature? Everything about her spoke of quality, but he'd sensed the fire inside of her. Hell, he'd almost been burned by it.\n\nRemembering the touch of her skin, he felt his own begin to tingle. What the hell was happening to him? No wonder Dawes and Nate were protective of her. If every man who met her had the same reaction he did, she had to be one special woman.\n\nAnd what about Dawes? He'd assumed that Dylan's attitude was due to him and Jerry being a couple, but they sure didn't act like it. He'd never touched her, hardly ever looked at her, the whole time he'd been here. Could it be that they were just friends and partners, not lovers?\n\n\"Tell me about the women in Europe.\" Jerry's demand broke through his musings, none too soon as far as he was concerned. He didn't like the direction his thoughts were traveling.\n\n\"What would you like to know?\" He focused on her eyes; they were back to a bright shade of blue with hints of green, totally clear as she stopped and looked into his.\n\n\"How did they dress, how did they wear their hair, how did they carry themselves?\" Jerry began pacing again. \"Were they classy, slutty or something in-between?\"\n\n\"Primarily classy, but not stuffy. Their wardrobes were the edgy side of couture; I guess you'd say they dressed appropriately for their age. Each of the women had long brown hair, similar to yours.\" But nowhere near as beautiful, he thought. \"Each woman was strikingly beautiful, as are you.\" Ethan stopped before he said too much. He wouldn't have her thinking he was already smitten, even if he did feel like a love-struck puppy.\n\nJerry blushed, but turned away from him to hide it. He thinks I'm beautiful, she thought, then swiftly brushed the thought away. She knew she was beautiful, hadn't her looks been a curse for as long as she could remember? No one took her seriously growing up, she'd been fending off unwanted male attraction for as long as she could remember. Shuddering slightly, she pushed those thoughts away as well.\n\n\"What did they do all day?\" She asked. \"When they weren't busy entertaining their companions?\"\n\n\"They were all incredibly fit, but none belonged to the same gym, or used the same personal trainer. Aside from keeping themselves beautiful, they shopped.\"\n\n\"That's it? No charity work, no hobbies, just shopping?\" Jerry's look of incredulity made him laugh.\n\n\"That's about it. Though they surely had other interests, but none that we've uncovered. One woman in England liked to paint, but for the most part they pampered themselves, when they weren't trying to maintain their beauty.\" Ethan stood, gathered the coffee cups, and went to the kitchen. \"What would you do if you were in their shoes?\"\n\n\"I am in their shoes, sort of. But to answer your question, I would have to find some other way to stay busy. Maybe I'd travel.\"\n\n\"Not possible. Part of her job description is 24-7 availability. When he calls, she's there.\" Ethan came back in the room and moved to stand at the window, near Jerry.\n\n\"You're right. Okay then, I would at least find a hobby. Not painting, I can't draw a straight line if my life depended on it. I love to read, so I could do that for part of the day. Maybe I'd take up needlepoint, or beading, or gardening. Who knows? I can't imagine _not_ being productive in some way.\" Jerry glanced at Ethan, noticing that he'd stepped closer to her.\n\n\"No idle hands for you, then?\" His voice was softer than before, probably because he was suddenly so close.\n\n\"No. What are you doing?\" Jerry turned to face him, but didn't step away. She believed in holding her ground, but she doubted she could move, even if she wanted to.\n\n\"You heard Nate. We have to get comfortable with each other before we go out in public.\" He stepped even closer, tilting her chin up with one long finger. \"I think I'll kiss you,\" he murmured, his eyes boring into hers.\n\n\"You think you'll...\" Jerry's words disappeared as his lips met hers, gently, sweetly, with barely an ounce of pressure. As quickly as he touched her, he pulled back. His eyes, softer now, were nearly covered with long black lashes. Instantly dizzy, Jerry braced her hands on his waist to keep from falling.\n\n\"Did you mind?\" His eyes were smiling now, almost as if he could see the erotic images racing through her mind.\n\n\"Only if you stop,\" she told him and raised her lips to his. It's just a kiss, she told herself, even as he folded her in his arms, taking them both deeper. Swirls of light filled her head, competing with the fireworks she swore she heard in the background.\nChapter Five\n\n\"What time is he picking you up?\" Kim's voice came through the speaker as Sonja placed the phone on her dressing table.\n\n\"He said one, so I have to hurry. He's always so punctual.\" She began smoothing moisturizer on her face.\n\n\"Must be a British thing. Charlie couldn't be on time if the house was on fire.\" Kim sighed. \"Where are you going today?\"\n\n\"He said to dress for an outdoor adventure, and to wear comfortable shoes, but he wouldn't tell me where we're going. There're so many hiking trails around here that it could be anything.\" Sonja inspected her nails as she waited for the moisturizer to soak into her face.\n\n\"When's Randall coming home? Aren't you worried that he'll find out about your English suitor, Mr. Wonderful?\" Kim giggled.\n\n\"He'll be back on Friday, so I'm not worried. Besides, he'll have to make nice with Charlotte before he sees me.\" Satisfied that she could get by without a touch-up, she dropped her hands, and began applying color to her eyelids.\n\n\"I know how that is. Charlie used to come straight to me, but now he always placates his wife first. Doesn't matter to me, as long as he pays the bills.\" Kim laughed.\n\n\"I hear that.\" Sonja's laugh was like a child's; high-pitched and free. \"If I play my cards right with Oscar, I'll be the one in the big house.\"\n\n\"Oscar. Who names their child Oscar?\" Kim asked.\n\n\"Old money, baby, that's who. It's a family name, handed down for generations to the first-born son. Along with all of that lovely green stuff. Or gold. Or whatever.\" Sonja applied her face like a pro. Within minutes she stared back at the improved version in the dressing mirror. \"He makes me feel like a princess. I really do like him, so much,\" she confided.\n\n\"You're so lucky. Finding a young, rich, gorgeous man who isn't already taken, or gay, is such a coup. When do I get to meet him, and does he have any friends?\"\n\n\"I know, right? It's such a pleasure to be with someone close to my own age, no little blue pills for Oscar!\" Sonja's laugh rang through the phone line, sounding more genuine than she felt. Truth was, Oscar had not made a move towards the bedroom, but she couldn't tell Kim that. His steamy kisses told her how attractive he found her, but that was the extent of their physical relationship. Perhaps today would be the day he took it to the next level. \"Sorry, babe, I've gotta bolt. He'll be here any minute, and I need to get dressed.\"\n\n\"Have a great time, call me tomorrow!\" Kim enthused.\n\n\"Thanks, I will. Say hi to Charlie for me. Remember, you can't say a word to him, or anyone, about Oscar. I can't risk Randall hearing about us before I'm ready to tell him.\"\n\n\"Don't worry, I won't spoil your fun. Just remember your friends when you land the whale.\"\n\nSonja giggled. \"From your lips.\"\nChapter Six\n\n\"I can't imagine why anyone would want to go out in public in this getup.\" Jerry grumbled walking into the great room of her Nob Hill condo. \"I look like a rainbow Popsicle.\" She pulled the colorful leotard higher on her shoulders.\n\nBoth men stared as she entered the room, Dylan's sandwich poised halfway to his mouth, and Ethan's coffee cup suspended in midair. Dylan found his voice first.\n\n\"I can tell you why, you look amazing. Make sure you wear a coat, or else you'll stop traffic.\" Dylan grinned at Jerry's blush.\n\n\"Yes, ummm, yes.\" Ethan's tongue wouldn't work, and his thoughts were all jumbled. Seeing Jerry dressed in a body sculpting leotard and matching tights nearly caused his heart to stop.\n\n\"Shouldn't there be more to it than this? I'm doing yoga, not ballet.\" Self-conscious, but determined not to show it, Jerry moved towards the kitchen. \"What's wrong with a decent pair of sweats? I can downward dog with the best of them, just fine, in my old clothes.\"\n\n\"Check the dresser, there should be coordinating pants.\" Dylan told her, then went back to his sandwich. \"Katherine took yoga.\" He answered Jerry's unspoken question.\n\n\"Thanks, I'll look after I eat. How is the ex, by the way? You haven't mentioned her lately.\" Jerry went about preparing her lunch.\n\n\"Things are good. We're finally on speaking terms again. How about bringing some chips to the table when you come.\"\n\nJerry grabbed a bag from the stocked pantry and joined the men. Ethan was looking everywhere but at her.\n\n\"That's good. What's it been, three years since the divorce?\" Jerry handed Dylan the chips.\n\n\"Something like that.\" Tearing open the bag, he chose to change the subject. \"So, yoga this afternoon, then an appointment at the salon. Sounds exhausting.\" He grinned.\n\n\"Bite me. So what did you find out this morning?\"\n\n\"Not much. The neighbors were useless. Apparently, people keep to themselves around here. The latest victim, Jenna, had a doorman. I'm meeting him this afternoon. He's been on vacation since she disappeared, the cops haven't even talked to him yet. Maybe he can shed some light.\"\n\n\"Doormen can be excellent sources. Bring cash.\" Ethan finally found his voice.\n\n\"Got it covered.\" Dylan nodded, then attacked his lunch.\n\n\"You're not eating?\" Jerry asked Ethan. Since their searing kiss earlier, they had both been careful not to touch the other. She wondered if it had affected him, as much as it had affected her. The kiss cemented their chemistry, no one would doubt they were a couple. They had spent most of their free time chatting, getting to know likes and dislikes that meant nothing to the case, but everything to their supposed romance. Jerry liked knowing that he loved dogs, enjoyed reading, and played rugby. She'd also found that opening up to him about her own life was effortless.\n\n\"Not yet, I'll get something later. My body thinks it's in Europe.\" His answering smile warmed her heart, and made her toes curl, just a little.\n\n\"Sorry, forgot. Nate asked me to tell you that you've got eight o'clock reservations for dinner tonight, at Quincette.\" Dylan noticed the energy change between Jerry and Ethan, and wondered if she was taken in by the slick bastard. He made a mental note to talk to her later.\n\n\"Thanks. Any particular reason for that restaurant?\" Jerry asked.\n\n\"Nope, just that it's high end, and popular among the beautiful people.\" Dylan grinned at her again. \"I'm sure you'll fit right in.\"\n\n\"The idea is for us to be seen, we'll be dining out a lot in the next few days. It's better if we have drinks at one location, then move on to another for dinner. We can cover more ground that way. We should also attend the opera one night, and obtain an invitation to any important events in the next week.\" Ethan snagged a chip from Jerry's plate.\n\n\"That shouldn't be too difficult, considering the city is rolling out the red carpet for our investigation. I'm sure Nate is already working on it.\" Jerry slid a sideways look at Ethan, imagining how he would look in a tux. She couldn't wait. \"Is there anyone in particular that I should make friends with in the yoga class? Nate's text was pretty generic.\"\n\n\"I'm not sure. Rodney may have more info. He's with the local office, and will be your driver this afternoon.\" Dylan picked up his empty plate and headed for the kitchen. Keep your phone handy, I'll let you know if the doorman knows anything.\" Turning to face Ethan, Dylan continued. \"Why don't you hang here, get some shut-eye. You look like you could use it.\"\n\n\"Thanks, I think I will.\" Ethan took Dylan's comment in stride and didn't rise to the bait. \"Let me know if you find out anything.\"\n\n~~~\n\nWithin minutes of Dylan and Jerry leaving the condo, Ethan crashed on top of the bed. Dreams of a certain caramel-haired beauty peppered his sleep, until the insistent buzzing of his phone broke through.\n\n\"Yeah.\" He muttered into the phone.\n\n\"Sorry to disturb your beauty sleep, Barnes, but I thought you'd want to hear this.\" Dylan's voice boomed through the phone, jarring Ethan awake. Glancing at the clock, he realized that he'd only been sleeping an hour.\n\n\"What've you got?\" He asked.\n\n\"The doorman remembers a man in a red Maserati Gran Turismo convertible picking Jenna up a few times last week. He never saw his face, but the car was unforgettable. Brand new, custom rims, with black interior.\"\n\n\"That should narrow down the suspect pool. How many red Maserati convertibles could there be in this city?\"\n\n\"You'd be surprised, but we're on it. Question is, is our guy stupid enough to keep driving that car, after Jenna's body was found? I doubt it.\"\n\n\"Casanova is definitely not stupid. Still, it's a good lead.\"\n\n\"It could be. Go back to sleep.\" Dylan disconnected.\n\n~~~\n\n\"That was intense.\" Jerry struck up a conversation with the twenty-something, buxom, blond, standing next to her at the athletic club's juice bar. The woman had managed the routine seamlessly, Jerry was a little envious of her flexibility.\n\n\"Always is, Sinjen really knows his stuff.\" The blonde smiled and struck a pose, one elbow on the bar.\n\n\"You were great. With your moves, you could be teaching the class.\" Jerry assumed that flattery would ingratiate her into the woman's world.\n\n\"Thanks. I'm here nearly every day, I should be good at it by now.\" The blonde's smile deepened, becoming more genuine. \"I haven't noticed you here before.\"\n\n\"It's my first time. I'm Jerry.\" Jerry briefly wondered about the protocol for meeting after a yoga class, should she extend her hand? She opted for a relaxed pose, as both hands were filled.\n\n\"I'm Kim, nice to meet you.\" Kim motioned to a nearby table. \"Care to sit? I'm always so relaxed after class, standing is a chore.\"\n\n\"Sure, thanks.\" Jerry followed her to the small table. \"I'm afraid I'll be paying for the class tomorrow. It's been awhile since I've stretched my body that way.\" She laughed.\n\n\"Yeah, you'll be paying for it.\" Kim laughed. \"Are you new in town, or just new to the club?\"\n\n\"New in town. My friend has business in the area, so we'll be here for at least six months. I couldn't just shop, or sit home all day, you know? So, I joined the club.\" Jerry slid easily into the role. \"I mean, a girl's gotta stay in shape, right?\" She winked and hoped it looked natural.\n\n\"Definitely. I see my body as one of my biggest assets.\" Kim sat up a little straighter. \"Charlie, my _friend_ , sees it that way too.\" Kim laughed as she emphasized the word 'friend.'\n\n\"I can see why. It definitely pays to stay in shape.\" Jerry laughed, tossing her hair back.\n\n\"I'll say. You seem to stay fit, what's your secret, if it's not yoga?\" Kim felt an instant kinship with Jerry. They were obviously cut from the same cloth.\n\n\"I box, at least, I used to.\" Jerry frowned slightly. \"No, really,\" she responded to Kim's raised eyebrows. \"It's a great way to maintain all this,\" she indicated her body with a sweep of her hand, \"and release frustration at the same time.\"\n\n\"That's something I've never considered. Boxing. Why did you stop?\" Kim was intrigued, she knew something about frustration.\n\n\"My sparring partner became too aggressive, and I got bruised. Ethan, my _friend_ , didn't like it. So I stopped.\" Jerry tossed her hair again. \"We moved here a week later. This is the first opportunity I've had to work out at all.\"\n\n\"We do have to keep our _friends_ happy.\" Kim smiled in sympathy. \"You have beautiful hair, it reminds me of my friend, Sonja's,\" she added.\n\n\"Thanks. It's a job keeping it long, but Ethan likes it. I'd have it short, like yours, if it were up to me.\" Jerry preened a little, as was expected. \"Does Sonja take classes here, too? I need to find a good stylist in the area, one who can deal with long hair.\"\n\n\"Yes, but she had other plans this afternoon. She'll probably be here tomorrow. You can meet her then, if you come back.\"\n\n\"If I can get out of bed, you mean.\" Jerry laughed.\n\nKim looked at her watch, a white gold Rolex Cellini Cellissima. \"Oops, I've gotta run. Charlie's dropping by after work today. It was nice talking with you, Jerry. I hope you make it back tomorrow.\" Kim's smile was as genuine as the diamonds encircling her watch.\n\n\"Thanks, Kim, I'll try. It was nice meeting you, too.\" Jerry raised her orange juice and nodded, grateful that she didn't wear her old, reliable Timex to class. As Kim left, Jerry found her phone and sent a text to Dylan, asking for an update. She hoped Ethan was sleeping; he'd looked dead on his feet when she'd left the condo.\n\nWhile waiting for Dylan's response, she sipped her juice and let her mind shift to the roller coaster ride of emotions she'd felt since meeting Ethan Barnes. To say that he was a surprise was a gross understatement. Up until that very morning, Jerry had secretly harbored a crush on Dylan. She was biding her time, until he seemed ready to move on, after his divorce. She knew how crazy it was to fall for a coworker, and she didn't sit idly by, waiting for the phone to ring. She enjoyed dating, but thoughts of Dylan were always in the back of her mind. He was the measuring stick she used to judge all other men. Until this morning.\n\nIt occurred to her that she hadn't compared Ethan to Dylan once. In fact, whatever romantic feelings she thought she had for Dylan, seemed to vanish, as soon as she opened the door to Ethan. Strange.\n\nAnd that kiss, she thought, feeling an involuntary shudder race through her. That kiss was like nothing she'd ever experienced, and she'd kissed her fair share of men. \"None who looked like that,\" she muttered aloud. Her physical reaction to him had been startling, but the attraction had only deepened as she'd gotten to know him.\n\nHe'd shared a little of his childhood, growing up on the Gold Coast of Australia. His father was a Diplomat, his mother was a pediatrician. Shades of loneliness had crept into his voice when he talked of being an only child, but they were soon overshadowed by the obvious love he felt for his family. \"They gave me everything,\" he'd said, \"a solid foundation, education, travel, and most of all, their time. As busy as they were, I always knew that I came first.\" Jerry envied him that, and had managed to quickly change the subject when he asked about her childhood. For some reason, she didn't want to lie to Ethan, but she was also not ready to tell him the ugly truth, especially in the face of his idyllic upbringing.\n\nDylan's detailed text came through, just as she rose to leave the club. A red Maserati, she read. Could Casanova be more conspicuous? Stepping outside into the damp day, she wished she could be investigating with Dylan, rather than going to a stupid nail appointment.\n\nRodney stood ready to open the back door of the shiny black town car. He looked as bored as she felt.\n\n\"Thanks,\" she said and slid onto the cool luxury of the beige leather seats.\n\n\"Home to change?\" Rodney asked as he started the car.\n\n\"Nope, no time. They'll have to take me as I am.\" Luckily, Dylan had been right about the matching pants to the ridiculously colorful leotard. She'd also found a jacket to complete the camouflage.\n\n\"Any luck?\" Rodney was a man of few words.\n\n\"Maybe, I made a new friend who may have a friend fitting Casanova's type. We'll see tomorrow.\" Jerry relaxed as Rodney maneuvered his way through the crowded streets. \"What about you, see anyone interesting hanging around?\"\n\n\"You mean did I see anyone driving a red Mas? No such luck. Nate thinks he's stashed the car, too smart to drive it around now.\"\n\n\"I agree with Nate. This guy's no dummy, but doesn't it seem odd to you that he would be so conspicuous in the first place? Most serials blend in; this guy is practically thumbing his nose at us. He's either too cocky, or he has more than one luxury vehicle at his disposal.\"\n\n\"Nate thinks he's got a private garage somewhere. It's the only way he could disappear in the city. Traffic cams are everywhere.\" Rodney brought the car to a smooth stop in front of a trendy-looking salon.\n\n\"Too trendy.\" Jerry wrinkled her nose in distaste as she waited for him to open the door. \"Back in an hour or so,\" she told him with an apologetic smile. She knew that one of the worst things a good agent could experience was downtime. She could tell that Rodney was not a fan of being a glorified bodyguard.\n\n\"I'll be here.\" He smiled back at her in understanding. \"At least I've got a scanner.\"\nChapter Seven\n\n\"Oh, Oscar, what a beautiful spot for a picnic. The sun will set directly in front of us. However did you find it? It's so far from civilization.\" Sonja walked to the edge of the deserted cliff, peeking over at the churning Pacific below.\n\n\"Anything for you, my dear. I wanted today to be special, just the two of us.\" The man calling himself Oscar spread a blanket near the edge of the cliff. He considered actually going along with the picnic, the sunset promised to be spectacular.\n\nIt had taken him days of hiking to find this spot. After the last debacle, he needed to be certain that this one's body would not be discovered too soon. He liked San Francisco, and would prefer to settle in for a bit.\n\n\"Come sit with me, Os.\" Sonja settled onto the blanket, holding out her hand.\n\nHe managed not to cringe at the insipid nickname she insisted on using. Instead, he took her hand and settled beside her. Her use of the nickname clarified his decision. He would enjoy the picnic, after he'd taken care of her.\n\nThis one reminded him the most of his fiancé, Elizabeth. There was something about the way she raised her eyebrows when she spoke that sent him rushing back to the most idyllic time of his life. Even now, as the one beside him prattled on about the scenery, his thoughts drifted to his one and only true love, his Beth.\n\nTheir time together had been much too brief, but it had been perfect. At least until the end. Beth was everything he'd ever imagined his wife to be; beautiful, statuesque, cultured and accomplished. She complemented him in every way.\n\nHad Sonja bothered to look at Oscar just then, she might have mistaken the light in his eyes as love for her. Instead, Sonja leaned back against him, continuing her tale of childhood adventures on the rocky beaches of Maine. The man she called Oscar continued to remember his Beth, with the slanted perspective that only one with his particular delusional disorder could conjure.\n\nBeth loved him, of that he was certain. He never understood why she tried to hide from him near the end, or how she could lay in another man's bed.\n\nThe man's eyes darkened as he remembered the rage he felt, walking in on his Beth, opening her legs for that nouveau riche peasant. He could still see the fear, and pain, in her lover's eyes, as he stripped him of his skin, and smell the scent of burning flesh, as he made the man pay for his sins. It surprised and pleased him that, even now, he could hear his Beth screaming as he forced her to watch her lover's punishment.\n\nIt was a point of honor for him that he'd been merciful when he killed Beth. Honorable though it was, her death had not been as satisfying as it should have been. Thus began his quest to duplicate the experience, in hopes that he would finally find true satisfaction.\n\nGlancing down at the woman who'd plastered herself against him, 'Oscar' took a deep breath. Maybe this one would give him what he needed.\n\n\"Let's take a walk,\" he invited, as soon as she stopped talking long enough to take a breath. \"The sun will be setting soon, and I'd like to find the perfect spot to watch.\" He gently pushed her away from his body, stood, then held out his hand to her.\n\n\"Sure, Os, but I don't know where we'll find a better spot than this one.\" Sonja smiled and let him pull her to her feet.\n\n\"Let's get closer to the edge,\" he suggested, leading the way. As docile as a kitten, she followed him.\n\nMinutes later, his task complete, the man settled back on the blanket and reached into the picnic basket. The sun was a large, orange, orb that deepened in color with every passing second. As it dipped below the watery horizon, he enjoyed a sip of champagne, and a taste of goose liver, while he considered his next move. Though he had enjoyed the kill, this one had not brought the peace he'd been searching for. Without a doubt, he knew that she was out there, the brunette beauty whose death would be enough.\n\nHe would simply have to keep looking.\nChapter Eight\n\nEthan struggled from sleep as a shaft of light fell across his face. Someone had opened the curtains.\n\n\"Ethan,\" Jerry prodded softly. \"Wake up. We have to get ready for dinner.\" She hated to wake him, but it couldn't be helped.\n\nGroaning, Ethan opened one eye to see Jerry standing in front of him, still wearing her yoga outfit. He felt his body respond automatically, partially from the dream he'd been having about her, and partially from the memory of the way she'd looked without the pants and jacket. In that second, he was grateful to be lying face down.\n\n\"I'm up. What time is it?\" His eyes were open, but he made no move to sit. Having her in his bedroom was disconcerting, and felt much too intimate. Jerry turned to leave.\n\n\"It's nearly six. I'm sorry to wake you, but I need the room.\" Jerry reached the door and glanced back to see him, still lying down, but watching her intently.\n\n\"Of course, I'll be in out in a sec.\"\n\n\"I'll put on some coffee.\"\n\n\"Thanks.\" He waited until she closed the door before daring to sit up. \"Damnation,\" he whispered. I'm acting like a teenager, raging hormones and all. She probably thinks I'm daft.\" Staring down at the evidence of his arousal, he growled. \"Stop thinking about her, or you'll never be able to move.\"\n\nJerry placed a coffee cup on the table, just as Ethan stepped into the great room.\n\n\"Thanks, that smells wonderful.\" She could swear she saw his color heighten as he spoke to her.\n\n\"You're welcome. I'm heading for the shower. There're plenty of snacks, if you're hungry.\"\n\n\"I'm famished, thanks. Sorry I slept so long, any news?\"\n\n\"No, nothing important since you spoke with Dylan. I won't be long.\" Jerry disappeared into the bedroom, closing the door behind her.\n\nThe cavernous bathroom was large enough for a family of four, but Jerry still hated sharing it with a stranger. Especially a stranger that made her pulse race, with his sleepy bedroom eyes, and hair that begged her to touch.\n\nThe powder room was also generous, with plenty of room for Ethan to get dressed. It didn't have a shower, so they had no choice but to share the one in the master bath.\n\nJerry surveyed the variety of pots, bottles, and colorful containers that lined the vanity section of the bath. She had no idea what to do with half of that stuff, couldn't imagine why anyone would need so many different powders and lotions. The stylist left them here for a reason; she would just have to suck it up, and learn what was what.\n\nThirty minutes later, Jerry left the bathroom covered in creams and lotions, and a slinky bathrobe designed to leave little to the imagination. Thankfully, she had a few of her own belongings in the go-bag she kept at the office. She rummaged through it now, searching for a pair of old sweats that would be more presentable than the silky bit of fabric, molding her every curve. No way was she facing Ethan dressed in next to nothing.\n\n\"You look nice, very shabby chic.\" He teased moments later, as she entered the great room. \"I especially like the turban. Is that new this season?\" He motioned at the fluffy towel covering Jerry's hair.\n\n\"Thanks, I'm starting a trend.\" She teased back. \"I thought you might appreciate the shower, before I begin getting dressed.\" Jerry poured a cup of coffee.\n\n\"Yes, I would. I've been in these clothes for over twenty-four hours.\" He ran his hand over his chin, feeling the stubble that made him look more rakish than usual.\n\n\"It's all yours.\" Jerry joined him at the table.\n\n\"I hope this isn't too awkward for you, living with a virtual stranger.\" Ethan met her gaze and felt another punch of attraction. What the hell was happening to him? How could a woman, dressed in ratty sweats, with no makeup, and her hair piled beneath a bulky towel, hold any appeal, much less make him want to taste every inch of her beautiful body? It was nuts and definitely a first.\n\nJerry thought she read desire in his eyes, and nearly shook her head. She had to be getting her signals mixed up. There was no way he could possibly think she was attractive at the moment.\n\n\"It's fine. You're not the worst roommate I've had. During my six years with the agency, I've learned to roll with the punches.\" She smiled. \"It's not exactly a hardship, living here. My apartment in Virginia would fit in these two rooms.\"\n\n\"If your job is anything like mine, I doubt that you spend much time there.\" Ethan stood and cleared his dishes.\n\n\"Not much, but it's nice to have a place to come home to.\" Jerry shrugged.\n\n\"I haven't seen my flat in London for months. I know what you mean, though. It's good to have a place to call home. My parents moved back to Australia last year; Dad retired and Mom set up a new practice. They'd tell you that my home is wherever they are, and it's true. But I do require my own space.\"\n\n\"Umm, it's nice that you're so close to them.\"\n\n\"Yes, but it's difficult to see them as often as I'd like. Are you close with your family?\" Ethan leaned against the kitchen doorway, still holding an empty plate and coffee mug.\n\n\"Not really.\" Jerry answered, then hastily changed the subject. \"Oooh, look at the time,\" she glanced up at the massive clock. \"You'd better claim the shower before I start to transform this mess.\" She indicated herself with a wave of her hand.\n\n\"You're beautiful, just as you are.\" The sincerity in Ethan's voice was unmistakable.\n\n\"And you need your eyes checked, in addition to a shower.\" Jerry laughed. \"But thanks.\"\n\nEthan winked, then disappeared into the kitchen.\n\n~~~\n\nJerry was pleasantly surprised to see that Ethan had left the bathroom as neatly as he'd found it; no wet towels lying on the floor, no hair in the sink, and, best of all, the toilet seat was down. He's either a neat freak, or he's trying to impress me, she thought with a smile. \"I'll take either one,\" she said aloud.\n\nLeaving half of the pots and potions lining her dressing table unopened, Jerry applied self-proclaimed miracle creams that made her skin feel like silk, and makeup that cost more than her monthly car payment. She couldn't remember the last time she had to primp this much for an assignment, including the time she worked undercover as a high-class call girl to help break up a drug ring.\n\nThe silk floral cocktail dress she'd already selected to wear that evening, hinted at a classic, fifties-era design, with its tight fitting bodice, sweetheart neckline, and full, fluffy skirt. She'd always loved the style, but dressing for dinner in her world usually meant slacks and a sweater, or, at best, a simple skirt and blouse. Living, eating, and breathing the SSCD left no room for exploring her secret passion for vintage clothing, and all things girly. She'd never admit it to Dylan or Nate, but this assignment spoke to her innermost desires on so many levels.\n\nLetting the dress fall over her head, she was pleased to see that it stopped, just above her knees, though she suspected that it was designed to land below the knee on a woman of average height. Still, it was acceptable, classic and more than a little flirty.\n\nShe left her hair long, as that was Casanova's preference, and attached a sapphire studded clip to one side as her only accessory. With one last glance at her reflection, she grabbed a matching pashmina and headed for the door.\n\nEthan's reaction as she entered the room told Jerry everything she needed to know. \"Wow, you look wonderful.\" She was made to satisfy every man's fantasy, he thought. The perfect combination of classic beauty, and sultry sensuality. He wondered how he'd gotten so lucky.\n\n\"Thanks. You clean up pretty good yourself.\" She smiled approvingly at his deep blue suit, paired with a crisp, white shirt.\n\nThe three-inch pumps she'd chosen brought her to within an inch of Ethan's six-foot-four stance. Together, they made a striking pair, and would surely turn more than one head tonight.\n\n\"Are you ready for our debut?\" Ethan's dimples deepened when he smiled at her.\n\n\"As I'll ever be.\" Jerry took his proffered arm, feeling a jolt race through her system. \"By the way, Dylan called to remind us that the society editor from the Chronicle will be there tonight. Plans are to plaster our photo and a brief \"look who's here\" article in the paper tomorrow.\"\n\n\"That should help get his attention.\" Ethan made a grand gesture of opening the door. \"Your kingdom awaits, m'lady.\"\n\nJerry couldn't help but smile. She really did feel a little like Cinderella. \"Why thank you, kind sir,\" she responded and swept out the door.\n\n~~~\n\nWord that a photographer from the Chronicle would be at Quincette that evening had spread to at least a dozen paparazzi, all of whom were waiting when Ethan escorted Jerry from the car. Doing her best to appear aloof and disinterested in the face of so many flashing cameras, Jerry held onto Ethan's hand, letting him lead her into the restaurant.\n\nThe beautifully appointed dining room was both modern and relaxed. Tables, set with candlelight and crystal, beckoned diners to sit and enjoy. As the hostess led them to a two-top in the middle of the room, Jerry tried not to look impressed with the ambiance. The woman she portrayed would be accustomed to such beautiful surroundings. She would also be used to the admiring glances she felt directed at both her, and Ethan.\n\nShe could hardly blame the women. Ethan looked like a walking dream. Some were watching him covertly, others openly stared. She sat up just a little straighter, knowing that he was hers, even if it was only for work.\n\n\"You're creating a sensation.\" His words surprised her, the only 'sensation' she could see was the women's reactions to him.\n\n\"I think you mean _you're_ stirring things up.\"\n\n\"Maybe a little, but every man in the room wishes he were me tonight.\" Ethan reached across the table and took her hand. She felt an instant tingle race along her spine.\n\n\"Isn't that a line from a movie?\" Jerry tried not to appear affected by his touch.\n\n\"Probably, but it fits. You're truly stunning.\" His fingers held hers lightly as he looked deep into her eyes.\n\nHe's just playing a role, Jerry reminded herself. It's all part of the game. \"Thank you. It's all for you, darling.\" The endearment rolled off of her tongue, even though she'd never remembered calling anyone 'darling' before tonight.\n\nEthan raised his eyebrows slightly, then relaxed. This had to be the best assignment he'd ever landed. At this moment in time, he was grateful that Casanova had led him to this place, to this woman. The wave of guilt that followed his thought was not enough to make him regret it.\n\n\"Tell me about your day, my sweet.\" Ethan waited until the waiter had left with their drink order before opening the conversation. \"Did you do anything amusing?\"\n\n\"Oh, yes. It was wonderful.\" Jerry launched into a description of the yoga class, and her participation in the same, that had Ethan genuinely laughing.\n\n\"I really don't think you should laugh at me until you can hook both ankles behind your head.\" Jerry tone dripped sweetness, but Ethan saw the daggers in her eyes. It made him laugh harder.\n\n\"I'm sorry, love, but you make it sound a treat. I really think I'd like to join you tomorrow, just to see it for myself.\"\n\n\"Don't you dare,\" Jerry's eyes flashed, even though her smile remained warm.\n\n\"We'll see,\" he teased. \"So, did you make any new friends?\"\n\n\"Yes. I met a lovely girl who attends the same class every day. She's as good as the instructor.\" Jerry accepted the menu from the waiter, noting that he only had eyes for Ethan.\n\n\"Thank you,\" Ethan told him, after hearing the specials. \"We'll let you know when we're ready.\"\n\n\"Yes, Sir.\" The waiter looked disappointed that he had been dismissed.\n\n\"Who knew that oysters on the half shell could sound so sexy?\" Jerry teased. \"I think he has a crush.\"\n\nEthan ignored her comment. \"I'd like to hear more about your day.\"\n\n\"Of course, I haven't even made it to the most exciting part.\" Jerry enthused, much as she imagined her character would. \"You know how I've been worried about finding someone who could deal with my hair? Well, Kim, that's the girl from yoga, has a friend with the same long, thick, mass that I do. Hers is brown, too, by the way, so I won't be introducing you. I know what a fondness you have for long, brown, hair.\" She tossed hers for emphasis.\n\n\"Makes me weak in the knees.\" He quipped with a grin.\n\n\"I know. Anyway, Sonja, that's Kim's friend, should be in class tomorrow, so she can tell me which salon she uses.\" Jerry finished with a flourish, glee shining in her eyes, along with a smile that would light up Texas. To those nearby who were watching, and listening, it appeared that the most important thing in the world to Jerry, was to find the right hairdresser.\n\n\"That's wonderful, my sweet. I know you've been very concerned about it.\" Ethan made his voice seem serious.\n\n\"I have, I really have.\" Jerry batted her eyelashes and it was all Ethan could do to keep from bursting with laughter.\n\n\"But that's enough about me, what did you do today?\" Jerry decided to let Ethan entertain her for a while.\n\n\"Oh, the usual. I had a few meetings, and spent some time at the track. I should take you, I think you'd enjoy it.\"\n\n\"I enjoy anything and everything I do with you.\" Jerry's smile made Ethan's heart do a flip-flop in his chest.\n\n\"Thank you, love, the feeling is mutual.\" Ethan's answering smile was equally devastating.\n\nSlow down, girl, Jerry told herself. It's a game, a role. Do not fall for his charming façade. Even as she mentally chastised her runaway emotions, her heart began to melt.\nChapter Nine\n\n\"Good morning, Princess. Nice of you to join us.\" Dylan's grin took the sting from his sarcasm.\n\n\"It's not even eight, what are you doing here?\" Jerry stifled a yawn and glanced over at the sofa. As Ethan was not at the table with Dylan, she fully expected to see him lounging on the makeshift bed.\n\nSurprisingly, the sofa bed they'd made up together last night was tucked neatly away. There was no sign of linens, or Ethan, in the room.\n\n\"The coffee's better here. Plus, I brought the paper. They caught your good side.\" He winked and tossed the paper onto the table.\n\n\"Not before coffee.\" Jerry turned towards the kitchen and almost ran into Ethan, carrying two steaming mugs.\n\n\"Good morning.\" The simple phrase, spoken in his hybrid Australian/English/Italian/French accent, got her senses moving better than a gallon of caffeine. He handed her a mug.\n\n\"Morning.\" Jerry tried not to blush at the direction of her thoughts, but it was like stopping the tide. \"Thanks.\" She accepted the mug, turning back towards the table.\n\nDylan watched the exchange with a little amusement, and a lot of trepidation. It looked like Jerry was smitten with Slick, and vice versa. Dammit, I thought she was smarter than that, he nearly growled aloud.\n\nEver since Jerry had become his partner, Dylan felt protective of her, sort of like a big brother. She'd more than proven her ability to handle the job, but he still looked out for her. At one point, about a year after his divorce, he'd felt the beginnings of attraction, but he quickly squelched it. For one thing, she was his partner. For another, he never intended to spend more than a few-night's with any one woman, ever again. Jerry deserved better than that. Just like she deserved better than Slick. Dylan knew his kind; love 'em and leave 'em. It was just like him to take advantage of the situation, and mix a little pleasure with business.\n\nNot if I can help it, he swore silently.\n\n\"Did you sleep well?\" Jerry asked, her gaze still on Ethan.\n\n\"Like a babe,\" he answered with a smile that made her heart trip.\n\n\"I slept great, too. Thanks for asking.\" Dylan interjected.\n\n\"That's nice, but you didn't sleep on a sofa bed.\" Jerry tossed at him.\n\n\"No, but have you heard Nate snore? The man sounds like a freight train.\" Dylan lied. The truth was that Nate had awakened him last night, thanks to a nightmare, not snoring. But that was Nate's business. \"Luckily, I still had earplugs from the last time you and I shared a room.\" He teased.\n\n\"Funny man.\" Jerry glanced at Ethan. \"I so do not snore.\" She told him, emphatically.\n\n\"How would you know? You sleep like the dead.\" Dylan teased.\n\nEthan observed the pair and felt more than ever that they were _not_ romantically involved. Jerry's reactions to him yesterday, and last night, had all but convinced him. Watching her interact with Dylan this morning reminded him more of siblings than lovers.\n\n\"Let's see the paper,\" Jerry reached for it, just as Ethan did. Their hands brushed, the touch sending shivery tingles, straight to her core. She'd be surprised to know that Ethan felt them, too.\n\n\"Mmmm, nice. How did they get it so big? None of the other pictures are this large.\" Jerry looked down at the image of her and Ethan, smiling at each other, as they left the restaurant. A few, smaller, images of them arriving, lined the bottom of the frame.\n\n\"Ask the Prince.\" Dylan left to refill his cup.\n\n\"Prince?\" Jerry looked puzzled.\n\n\"No, technically my title is Duke. It's part of my cover.\" Ethan was suddenly very interested in selecting a muffin. He had no intention of confessing that the royalty aspect of his cover was not far from the truth. \"Supposedly, I'm something like 1,676th in line for the English throne. On my father's side,\" he explained.\n\n\"And someone made sure to mention that to the press.\" Jerry nodded.\n\n\"Yes. You Americans are so enamored with anything royal, we thought it would garner more publicity.\" Ethan looked sheepish.\n\n\"And so it did.\" Jerry studied the image, noting how happy they both looked. Anyone would think they were a real couple.\n\n\"Not all Americans are royal-crazy,\" Dylan said as he returned. \"I couldn't give a rat's ass about titles. Titles don't mean diddly squat when it comes to character.\" He leveled a warning look at Ethan.\n\n\"Agreed.\" Ethan said smoothly, ignoring the daggers Dylan aimed his way.\n\n\"Ethan Bennett, Duke of Davenborrough, and his companion, Jerry Smythe, enjoyed a delightful dinner at Quincette, a local favorite. The Duke and Ms. Smythe are visiting San Francisco on an extended working holiday.\" Jerry read. \"At least they got our cover names right.\"\n\n\"It's good coverage. If our guy reads the society section, he can't help but be intrigued.\" Dylan added.\n\n\"Let's hope. What's on my agenda today? Besides yoga.\" Jerry snagged a muffin and bit in.\n\n\"Jimmy put together a list of places frequented by all three victims in the last month. Aside from your favorite yoga class, there's a café around the corner, a juice bar two blocks over, and a Pilates studio downtown that might be helpful. You can drop by the juice bar on your way to Pilates, then stop by the café on the way home.\"\n\n\"I'm taking Pilates _and_ yoga today?\" Jerry dropped her muffin. \"I thought the point was to keep me alive so Casanova can take his shot. If I keep this up, I'll be dead in a week.\" She complained.\n\n\"Suck it up, Forbes. You can do this in your sleep.\" Dylan wanted to laugh at Jerry's expression, but didn't risk it. \"Just think of how good your body will look, after a few days of torture.\"\n\n\"You really are annoying,\" she tossed back. \"What else is going on today? I assume that we're going out again tonight?\"\n\n\"Of course. See and be seen, doncha know.\" Dylan grinned in anticipation of dropping his next bomb. \"Tonight, you're going to the opera. You have tickets to La Traviata, the heart-wrenching tale of a fallen woman's sacrifice for the love of her life. Or so I'm told.\"\n\n\"Oh, man,\" Jerry dropped her head on her arms. \"This day just keeps getting better. Why don't you go spread sunshine somewhere else?\" She peeked up at Dylan.\n\nEthan and Dylan both laughed, but Ethan spoke. \"I take it the opera is not your cup of tea?\"\n\n\"No,\" Jerry replied instantly. \"I mean, I've never been, but I can't imagine that it would be anything but boring.\"\n\n\"You Americans and your preconceived notions.\" Ethan shook his head. \"La Traviata is arguably one of the best-loved operas of all time, and you imagine it to be boring. Opera allows emotions to transcend language. Whether or not you understand the words, if you pay attention to the characters, and the music, you _will_ feel the emotion.\" His passionate words surprised Jerry. \"I challenge you to give the stage your undivided attention tonight, and then tell me that you were bored.\"\n\nEthan's speech left Dylan silent and Jerry impressed.\n\n\"I accept your challenge.\"\n\nEthan nodded and changed the subject. \"Any luck on locating the Maserati?\" He asked Dylan.\n\n\"Nothing, yet. We're running down the registrations, but you'd be amazed at the number of red Maserati's registered in California. By and large, the owners all fit the broadest part of our unsub's profile; white male, in his thirties to fifties. We need more to go on.\" Dylan broke apart another muffin.\n\n\"Maybe I'll get lucky today with Kim's friend, Sonja. I know it's a longshot, but it could turn into something.\" Jerry wrinkled her nose at the muffin tray. \"I'm making a real breakfast. God knows, I'll work it off later today. Who wants pancakes?\"\n\n\"So, Slick, what are your plans today?\" Dylan asked Ethan, after placing a double order of pancakes with Jerry.\n\nEthan chose to ignore the jibe. It appeared that Dylan's opinion of him hadn't changed yet.\n\n\"I have appointments at two brokerage firms this morning, both of which are used by the three previous victim's paramours. This afternoon, I'm joining a gentlemen's club preferred by two of the men, and then I'm off to the track. See and be seen, right?\"\n\n\"Right. Nate and I will continue to interview neighbors and friends of the victims, and of their _paramours_. Jeez, who talks like that?\"\n\nEthan simply raised his eyebrows, not deigning to rise to the bait.\n\n\"Anyway, that's about all we have to go on, until something else happens.\"\n\n\"You mean until another woman is murdered.\" Ethan's voice was low and slightly menacing.\n\nDylan took offense. \"Hey buddy, if you have any better ideas, I'd like to hear 'em.\"\n\n\"Sorry, I know you all are doing what you can. It makes my blood boil, thinking of him getting by with these murders, right under our collective noses.\"\n\n\"I know what you mean.\" For the first time, Dylan felt a kinship with Ethan. He didn't want it to take root. Standing, he called to Jerry. \"Hey Princess, you need any help in there?\" He moved to join her, without waiting for a reply.\n\n~~~\n\nJerry plastered a smile on her face as she walked into the yoga class. The very last thing her body needed was to be bent like a pretzel for an hour. Spotting Kim standing alone, intent on her cell phone, Jerry made her way over to her.\n\n\"Hi, Kim,\" she greeted the other woman warmly. \"It's nice to see you again.\"\n\nKim appeared distracted as she glanced up at Jerry. \"Oh, hi, Jerry. It's nice to see you, too.\" She shut off her phone and placed it in her bag. \"Hey, I saw your picture in the paper this morning, va va va voom!\" She grinned. \"If you get tired of the Duke, let me know, and I'll take him off of your hands. He's gorgeous!\"\n\nJerry actually blushed. \"He's a keeper, but thanks for the offer.\"\n\n\"Anytime.\" Kim began stretching.\n\n\"Is your friend Sonja here? I really wanted to speak with her about a recommendation for a hair stylist.\" Jerry began stretching as well, ignoring her body's silent protests.\n\n\"She's not here, yet, but I hope she makes it. I'm a little worried. She was supposed to call me this morning, but I haven't heard from her. My calls to her go straight to voice mail.\" Kim shrugged. \"Maybe she got tied up with her new friend. If she doesn't show up for class, I'll stop by her place.\"\n\n\"I'm sure she's fine.\" Jerry lied. Every warning bell she had was going off in her head. \"Breaking in a new _friend_ can be time consuming.\" She winked.\n\n\"It's not really like that. I mean, she has a _friend,_ but she thinks this guy could be the real deal.\" Kim frowned. \"I'm sorry, she asked me not to talk about it.\"\n\n\"Sure, sure. No worries. My lips are sealed.\" Jerry smiled and unrolled her yoga mat.\n\n~~~\n\nClass was as excruciating as she'd thought it would be, but Jerry pushed through. She didn't want to jump the gun, but her instincts told her that Sonja would not show up in class that day, or any other day. She approached Kim again as they were leaving.\n\n\"Still no luck getting Sonja to answer?\" Jerry asked, as Kim frowned into her phone.\n\n\"No. She rarely misses yoga, especially not two days in a row. I'm going over there.\"\n\n\"If you're worried, I could join you. My driver's right outside.\" Jerry offered hopefully.\n\n\"I hate to put you out,\" Kim hedged. \"She's probably just holed up with him, and I'm being ridiculous.\"\n\n\"You're not putting me out at all. If she's really in trouble, you'll need someone there with you. If everything's fine, then I can drop you back here, or anywhere you'd like to go.\" Jerry smiled warmly. \"I have an hour before my dress fitting, so you'd be helping me fill the time.\"\n\n\"If you're sure,\" Kim suddenly looked eager for Jerry to join her.\n\n\"I'm sure. Let's grab a juice to go. I'll text Ronald to pull the car around.\" Jerry sent two texts, one to Ronald, and one to Dylan. By the time they were riding towards Sonja's home, Dylan was already en route as well, following the GPS signal on her phone. Jerry's text was brief, but the message was enough to make him drop everything and go. He'd worked with her long enough to have full faith in Jerry's instincts.\n\nSonja's apartment comprised the top floor of a restored Victorian, less than three miles from the yoga studio. With stop and start traffic, it took them fifteen minutes to arrive.\n\n\"What a lovely home,\" Jerry remarked, as they glided to a stop across the street from the painted lady. \"Do you see her car?\" Two cars were parked on the street, directly in front of the old home.\n\n\"Yes,\" Kim sighed with relief. That's it, there.\" She pointed to a late model BMW, parked in the narrow driveway. \"Sonya has the top floor apartment, _and_ assigned parking.\" Kim waited for traffic to pass before opening her door. \"I'll just be a moment.\"\n\n\"I'll come to the door with you, just in case.\" Jerry followed her out of the car.\n\nClimbing to the third floor of Sonja's home gave Jerry's legs a workout they didn't need. Her adrenaline was pumping so that she hardly noticed the pain.\n\nThe top floor landing was lit with the colors of an oversized stain glass window that appeared to be original to the house. A small table with a Tiffany lamp stood outside the apartment door.\n\nJerry stood to the side as Kim knocked repeatedly, calling Sonja's name.\n\n\"Do you have a key?\" Jerry asked.\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Call her again, maybe we can hear the phone ring if she's inside, and can't answer the door.\"\n\nKim dialed Sonja's number while Jerry looked over her shoulder, committing the number to memory. Both women listened intently for any sound inside the apartment.\n\n\"She must still be out with Oscar.\" Kim disconnected and turned back towards the stairs.\n\n\"I'm sure that's it.\" Jerry hurriedly agreed. \"Does she often disappear like this?\" She kept her voice casual. \"A friend of mine back in Maine disappears all the time. Says she needs her space.\"\n\n\"Not Sonja. I've known her for years, she's as dependable as the sunrise. She'll probably call later. She knows I'll worry if I don't hear from her.\" Kim glanced back at Jerry as they walked down the stairs. \"We sort of look out for each other.\"\n\n\"That's good. We all need someone.\"\n\nBy the time the two women exited the home, Dylan had found a parking spot, one block up. He waited as the town car disappeared from sight before making his way inside.\n\nHe already knew that Sonja Jenkins lived in an apartment owned by Rockstone Promotions, LLC. According to Jimmy, the resident geek in tech support, the BMW was leased by the same company. Following protocol, he took the stairs, two at a time, and knocked on Sonja's door. After a few minutes, he went to the second floor landing, intending to do an impromptu interview with her neighbors.\n\nThe twenty-something redhead who answered the door was dressed like a bohemian in a long, flowing dress. She gave him a once over, from head to toe, before speaking.\n\n\"Well hello there.\" Her southern drawl was unmistakable. \"Are you lost?\"\n\nThe distinctive aroma, pouring into the hall from her open door, reminded Dylan of his college days. Deciding to play it cool, he relaxed his stance.\n\n\"Why, no, sugar, I'm not lost. I'm looking for Sonja,\" he nodded towards the stairs, \"have you seen her this morning?\" He gave the girl his lopsided grin, the one that always worked for him.\n\n\"Where does she find you guys?\" The redhead tossed her head and leaned against the doorjamb. \"No, I haven't seen her since she left yesterday afternoon. He was a looker, too.\"\n\n\"Oh, really?\" Dylan leaned against the wall, closer to the girl. \"Should I be jealous?\"\n\n\"I don't know,\" she winked at him. \"He looked pretty good.\"\n\n\"Mmmm,\" Dylan appeared concerned. \"I bet my car's better than his.\" He winked back at her.\n\n\"I seriously doubt it. Do you have a red Italian sports car?\" She asked, warming to the stranger.\n\n\"No. Mine's black.\" He told her with a smug smile, even as his heart sank. \"So, did you ever meet my competition?\"\n\n\"No, he always waited in the car for Sonja to come down.\"\n\n\"Can you describe him for me, just so I know what I'm up against?\" Dylan looked appropriately hopeful.\n\n\"Sure, handsome. He looked tall, at least I think so. It's hard to tell from my window.\" She whispered conspiratorially. Dylan nodded. \"He had longish, black, hair, and a thick mustache, which I normally don't like, but on him, it looked good. Broad shoulders, sort of like yours, and high cheekbones. His face reminded me of Rock Hudson, you know, an actor from ancient movies.\"\n\n\"You saw a good bit from your window.\" Dylan smiled again. The girl moved closer.\n\n\"Would you like to come in?\" She invited. \"We could get to know each other while you wait on Sonja.\"\n\n\"Thanks, sugar, but I'll have to pass today. I'm sure I'll see you again, though.\" Dylan straightened and moved away from the door. He was beginning to feel like he had a contact high.\n\n\"Your loss.\" She breathed and slowly closed the door.\n\nDylan sent a text to Ethan and Nate with the description of the unsub. He also suggested that Nate order a helicopter to scour the surrounding cliffs. He knew in his gut that Sonja was dead.\n\n\"Where's my damn clairvoyance when I need it?\" He mumbled as he walked down to the first floor. Ever since Dylan was a small boy, he'd had visions of events as they happened. Most often, the visions only concerned those closest to him. His grandmother had explained that he had a gift, that he should be grateful that God considered him to be so special. Dylan considered it a curse, and evidence that God either had a sense of humor, or didn't like him very much. The worst vision to date was of his wife, cheating on him with his best friend. Former wife and former best friend, he clarified to himself.\n\n\"Just once, couldn't the damn _gift_ help me solve a case?\" He whispered as he knocked on the door. No one answered. Pressing his ear against the wood, he heard no evidence of noise, or movement, inside the apartment. Knowing he'd be back later, he dialed Nate as he left the building.\n\n\"Feels like we've got another one.\" He told him.\n\n\"It definitely does. Wait until you see her DMV photo; she's a dead ringer for the first victim in London, no pun intended.\" Nate's voice was grim. \"Sounds like the neighbor got a decent look at him. Any luck with the occupants on the first floor?\"\n\n\"They're not at home, I'll come back later. I'm not sure how reliable the girl's description is, she was pretty stoned when I talked to her, but at least it's something.\" Reaching his car, Dylan paused. \"Are you working on a warrant for her apartment? Should I hang here?\"\n\n\"Yes, it should be ready in a few. Working with the city government certainly expedites things. I'm on my way there now, so just sit tight.\"\n\n\"Will do. Do we have choppers in the air?\"\n\n\"Two, though the miles of coastline present a challenge. Would be nice to have a clue to help narrow down the location.\"\n\n\"Tell them to look for circling buzzards. I don't expect we'll find Sonja alive.\" Dylan kicked the tire on his car. It felt good to let off a little frustration.\n\n\"I don't expect so, either. Maybe we'll find something in her apartment. I'm almost there.\" Nate disconnected.\n\nDylan texted Jerry, asking her to call when she was free. His phone rang almost immediately.\n\n\"What did you find?\" she asked in greeting.\n\n\"The girl living on the second floor saw Sonja get into a red Italian sports car, yesterday afternoon. She gave us a description, but I'm not sure how accurate it is, she was pretty high when we spoke.\"\n\n\"What's the description?\"\n\n\"Tall, longish, black hair, mustache, reminded her of Rock Hudson.\"\n\n\"The actor?\"\n\n\"You know another Rock Hudson?\"\n\n\"Smartass. Ethan didn't say anything about a mustache, that's new. It could be fake, or he could have grown it in since Europe. If it's him, he's also changed his hair color.\"\n\n\"What do you mean, if? Are you having doubts?\"\n\n\"No. It's him. My gut's telling me that Sonja's dead.\"\n\n\"We agree. Nate's got two choppers searching the cliffs along the coast. Did Kim tell you anything else that would help us with the search?\"\n\n\"No, she never met the guy. All she knows is that he's young, rich, gorgeous, and calls himself Oscar. He told Sonja to dress for an adventure yesterday, but she didn't know where he was taking her. I couldn't really ask a lot of questions without making her suspicious of my cover.\"\n\n\"That fits in with everything we already know about him. I'm sure the name's an alias, but it could be helpful.\" Dylan raised is hand as Nate drove by. \"Nate's here with a warrant. We're going into Sonja's place. Maybe we'll get lucky.\"\n\n\"Let me know.\"\n\n\"Of course. I'll drop by later and brief you and Ethan.\"\n\n\"See you then.\"\nChapter Ten\n\n\"Her place was clean. No mention of Oscar, her date, or anything about him.\" Dylan placed a laptop on the dining table. \"Hopefully, I can get into this thing and find out something more.\"\n\n\"It makes sense that she wouldn't have anything about Oscar written down at her place. Mustn't let her current companion know about her side interests.\" Jerry dropped into the chair beside Dylan. \"Any news on the search?\"\n\n\"Nothing yet, and it'll soon be dark. If they don't locate her, they'll pick it up first light.\" Dylan began attacking the keys on Sonja's laptop. \"If I were a beautiful young woman, living the high life, what would my password be?\"\n\n\"Any pets?\" Ethan asked as he entered, his hair still wet from a shower.\n\n\"Nope, and it's not her birthday, either.\" Dylan kept working.\n\n\"Try Namaste, and other yoga terms. According to Kim, she loved that stuff.\" Jerry told him and watched as he tried several more times to open the program. \"You could overnight it to Jimmy, I'm sure he has ways of getting inside.\" Jerry hid her grin.\n\nDylan narrowed his eyes at her, as she knew he would. \"The day a snot-nosed kid can beat me into a laptop is the day I'll hang up my hat. Just back off and give me a minute, dammit.\"\n\nWhile getting under Dylan's skin was one of her favorite things, Jerry hoped he was right this time. She'd hate for his ego to cost them precious time. \"Alright, alright.\" She held up her hands. \"Shutting up now.\"\n\n\"Are you two related?\" Ethan asked with a straight face and nearly lost it when they both turned on him, eyes blaring.\n\n\"Of course we're not related. Why in the world would you ask something like that?\" Jerry asked.\n\n\"Because you bicker like siblings, that's why. Sorry.\" He gave her a sheepish grin. Jerry thought he looked good enough to eat.\n\n\"Hey, I'm in.\" Dylan exclaimed. \"Told ya.\" He raised his eyebrows at Jerry.\n\n\"Okay, okay, you're good. Now find us something.\"\n\n\"Quit looking over my shoulder,\" Dylan commanded. \"Shouldn't you be getting ready for your big night out?\" He waggled his eyebrows.\n\n\"I'm going. Ethan, have you finished in the bathroom?\"\n\n\"It's all yours, just let me get my tux from the closet.\"\n\n~~~\n\nBy the time Jerry came back into the living room, Dylan and Ethan had their heads together over the laptop, peering at the computer screen.\n\n\"Did you find something?\" She asked as she came through the door. Both men turned to look at her. Dylan's reaction tickled her, but it was the sudden gleam in Ethan's eyes that had her heart fluttering.\n\n\"Damn, Princess, you clean up good.\" Dylan nodded approvingly.\n\n\"Thanks.\" Jerry threw him a glance, then went to stand beside Ethan.\n\n\"You look wonderful.\" He told her and touched her arm. \"That shade of blue is perfect with your eyes.\" The sincerity of his compliment made her pause. She had fallen in love with the sapphire blue gown as soon as she'd seen it hanging in her closet. Secretly, she was nervous about tonight, and hoped that she'd at least chosen the right dress.\n\n\"Thank you, Ethan. You look nice, too.\" It was an understatement if there had ever been one. The man looked like sin on a stick. She was suddenly grateful for Dylan's presence. Otherwise, she might have given in to the urge to reach up and taste him. \"What did you find?\"\n\n\"An image, possibly, of Oscar. It's grainy, looks like it was taken at night from a distance. See the red Mas in the background?\" Dylan pointed to the screen.\n\n\"Yes, can you enhance it?\"\n\n\"I'm trying, but Jimmy's got the good toys, I sent it off to him. It's time stamped four days ago, taken with a Canon, but we didn't find one in the apartment.\"\n\n\"She would have taken it with her, in anticipation of the adventure he promised.\" Jerry's voice was sour. \"Son of a bitch couldn't know about this picture. No way would he let her keep it.\"\n\n\"That's probably why it's such a bad shot. Maybe by tomorrow, we'll have his face.\"\n\n\"From your lips.\" Jerry added.\n\n\"We should go.\" Ethan took Jerry's arm; she hoped he didn't feel the goose bumps that suddenly appeared.\n\n\"Text us if you find anything else.\" Jerry told Dylan. \"And lock up when you leave.\"\n\n\"Yes, Ma'am. Have fun.\" He told her with a wicked grin.\n\n\"We will.\" Ethan assured him, guiding Jerry through the door.\n\n~~~\n\n\"But why would Alfredo humiliate Violetta in front of everyone, even if it were true that she loved the Baron? He was an idiot to believe that, by the way.\" Jerry spoke in hushed tones, even though the curtain had fallen on the second Act.\n\n\"He was so devastated by her betrayal that he couldn't see past his ego. His need to crush her in front of their peers is not an uncommon knee-jerk reaction, I suppose, even in the eighteen hundreds.\" Ethan was pleased that Jerry had honored her word to give the performance a fair shake, and secretly thrilled that she was getting into the story.\n\n\"But how could he not see that she was lying? The love between them was palpable, how could he believe that she was in love with anyone else? Especially such a pompous ass. Alfredo had to know that his father was behind Violetta's sudden change of heart. If nothing else, the timing made it obvious.\" Jerry's anger at the storyline amused Ethan in that it echoed his own whenever he managed to catch a performance.\n\n\"Obvious to us, but not so much to a love-sick Alfredo. I believe that he'd never really gotten over the Baron's influence in Violetta's former lifestyle as a courtesan.\"\n\n\"Maybe so. At least the guests at the party turned on him for treating a woman so poorly. Another thing I don't understand is why Violetta begged him to see the love in her heart, after he'd treated her like crap.\"\n\n\"I take it you've never been in love?\" Ethan asked quietly.\n\nThe question surprised Jerry, but not as much as the way Ethan's eyes suddenly narrowed. They seemed to reach right into her soul, searching for the answer.\n\n\"No, I haven't,\" she said softly. \"I've had crushes and mini-relationships, but I've never experienced the all-consuming power of the kind of love that Violetta and Alfredo share.\"\n\n\"Neither have I. I'm not sure how many people have been lucky enough to find the real thing. I've seen enough operas, read enough Browning, and the like, to know that pride goes out the window when true love is involved. Even though Violetta used Alfredo's insecurities to try and do what his father insisted was right for the family, she really wanted him to see past the ruse, and rely on her love for him. But he failed.\"\n\n\"Men can be such idiots.\" Jerry's expression caused Ethan to laugh out loud, eliciting raised eyebrows from the patrons seated in the surrounding boxes.\n\n\"I suppose you're right, but can you really fault Alfredo for believing Violetta's lies?\"\n\n\"I don't know, I suppose not. There's one more Act, right? Maybe they'll come to their senses.\" Jerry relaxed back in her seat as the house lights flickered.\n\nEthan didn't want to spoil the ending, but he suddenly wished he'd taken her to a predictable romantic comedy, or anything with a feel-good ending. As invested as she was in the plot, she would surely feel the pain of the Third Act acutely. He wanted to spare her that. Resisting the urge to take her hand and lead her out of the theater, he settled back and felt inside his pocket for a handkerchief.\n\n~~~\n\nDylan clicked the link that Jimmy had just sent and waited for the image to come into focus. The graininess was gone, but the man's face was in shadow, giving them precious little more than they already had on him.\n\n\"Dammit,\" he shoved away from the table situated beneath the window in his hotel room. Throwing open the door, he walked a few feet and pounded on Nate's door.\n\n\"I thought we were going to meet downstairs,\" Nate greeted him.\n\n\"Have you seen the best your boy wonder, Jimmy, can do with the pic we found on Sonja's computer?\" Dylan ignored Nate's greeting, moving past him into the room.\n\n\"Not yet. I take it that it's less than satisfactory.\" Nate closed the door gently and followed Dylan into the space.\n\n\"That's an understatement.\" Dylan growled. \"We can't even see his face. Our first decent lead, and tech drops the ball. I thought the kid was supposed to be some kind of computer genius, but you can't prove it by me.\" Dylan waited as Nate found Jimmy's email and opened the picture.\n\n\"His face is in shadow,\" Nate commented after studying the image. \"I'm sure that if it's possible to enhance it, Jimmy's on it.\" Nate peered intently at the screen. \"He's a big bastard, must be six-four, if he's an inch. Look at his stance, and the width of his shoulders. Looks like a body builder.\"\n\nDylan joined Nate at the computer. \"If that's so, he'll need a place to work out. We should check the gyms in the area, check out any new members in the past two months. With a ride like that, he'll be remembered.\"\n\n\"He won't use the Mas for day-to-day crap; too conspicuous, especially since Jenna's body was found so soon. Nope, our boy has another ride, something luxurious, but not as flashy.\"\n\n\"Agreed, but in this city, a private residence with an attached two-car is pricey. No way he'd use street parking, or a public facility.\"\n\n\"We already know he has money. I'll have Jimmy narrow the search for rental homes with a minimum of a two-car attached. Should help some.\" Nate began sending a text.\n\n\"I hope he knows how to perform a search better than he knows how to fix a picture.\" Dylan grumbled. \"Are you ready to eat? I'm starved.\"\n\n~~~\n\nEthan sat patiently for Jerry to compose herself, after the house lights went up at the end of the performance. He could see tears sliding down Jerry's face, and he wondered if she was even aware of them. She was moved, of that he was certain. How could she not be? Alfredo discovering Violetta's sacrifice, returning to her just in time to witness her death, was heart wrenching for the most seasoned aficionado, even more so for a virgin opera-goer.\n\nJerry knew the lights were up, and that anyone could see, but she couldn't stop the flow of tears. She could barely understand her emotional reaction to Violetta's death, and Alberto's resulting heartbreak. She couldn't possibly explain it to Ethan.\n\nAs the theater cleared out, she felt his hand cover hers as it lay on her lap. Turning to face him, she was met with complete understanding, and a touch of moisture at the corner of his expressive eyes. No explanation was necessary.\n\nHe kept hold of her hand as they made their way to the door, tucking it through his arm, pulling her close amid the remaining patrons and pedestrians along the bustling street. Beautiful people, dressed to the nines, stepped into a line of waiting cars as couples, out for an evening stroll, wove their way between them. Cameras flashed as paparazzi captured personal moments and smiling faces, in hopes of a payoff. Three or four more industrious homeless held out tins and hands towards anyone who glanced their way. Ethan slid a folded bill into a woman's hand, just before helping Jerry into the car. Neither had spoken a word to each other since Act III began.\n\nA comfortable silence filled the back of the town car as it slowly pulled away from the curb. Ethan had not let go of Jerry's hand, neither did she try and remove it from his grip. He felt warm and familiar, an anchor in the storm of emotion that flooded her during the performance, especially the final act.\n\nFor the life of her, Jerry couldn't come to grips with her reaction to the sadness enacted on stage. It wasn't as if death was a stranger to her, she'd made it her business. A woman cut down in the prime of her youth, wasted potential, and love lost, were not uncommon elements of the life she had chosen. Why, then, did a centuries old skit, depicting a similar scenario, trigger such deep, soul-wrenching pain?\n\nEthan watched Jerry from the corner of his eye. The tiny lines between her brows told him she was struggling with something. He wished she would share her thoughts. Opera was known for dredging up powerful emotions, often jarring long forgotten memories, or touching places in the soul that hadn't seen the light of day for years. He wondered which parts of Jerry La Traviata had stirred.\n\nJerry closed her eyes and let her mind wander. As soon as she relaxed, a woman's face appeared in her memory, making her gasp with recollection. The woman was beautiful, young, and vibrant, with the same high cheekbones and long brown hair that framed Jerry's face. Her mother.\n\nTears came again, unbidden, and filled with the pain of losing her beloved mother when she was barely three years old. She had no real memories of the time they had together, only fleeting images of her mother's face, and the lilting sound of her laughter. She had laughed a lot with her mother, Jerry was certain of that much. Just as certain as she was that the laughter had stopped, on the day her mother died.\n\nJerry never dwelled on her childhood. Being raised in a series of foster homes, one worse than the last, had prompted her toward a career with the FBI. Witnessing first-hand the cruelty that people chose to inflict on each other, and on their children, fueled a burning desire for the power to make things better. She also liked carrying a gun and possessing the knowledge of just how to use it. More than once during the horrors of her youth, she wished for a gun, a knife, anything she could use for protection.\n\nRefusing to probe the wound, she focused on recalling her mother's face. She couldn't remember the last time she'd pictured her. Circumstances had taught her to block out most of her upbringing. The happy times with her mom fell victim to the mental blackout. Remembering her face tonight made the evening more special, even though her heart ached with the memory.\n\nEvery instinct Ethan possessed screamed at him to wrap his arms around Jerry and pull her close. Whatever she was thinking brought a sadness to her eyes that broke his heart. Throwing professionalism to the wind, he gently released her hand, draped his arm around her shoulders, and nudged her towards him. She came willingly.\nChapter Eleven\n\n\"You made the papers again.\" Dylan stated, slapping the thick roll of black and white against Ethan's chest when he opened the door.\n\n\"Good morning to you, too.\" Ethan was groggy from lack of sleep and in no mood for Dylan's attitude. He'd tossed and turned half the night, concern for Jerry, and whatever demons haunted her, warring with his ever-increasing emotional connection to the woman who should be no more than his partner.\n\n\"What, no coffee?\" Dylan ignored Ethan, but was secretly pleased to finally see the man ruffled. He set about making a pot that could double as motor oil.\n\n\"There's a Starbucks on the corner, help yourself.\" Ethan grumbled and headed for the bathroom.\n\nDylan chuckled, mostly to himself, and began whistling as he worked. The day had potential if he could start it off getting under Slick's skin.\n\n\"Have you seen the email I sent last night?\" Dylan asked when Ethan reappeared.\n\n\"No, did you find something?\" Ethan was instantly alert.\n\n\"Our tech department enhanced the image we found on Sonja's computer. Not a lot of help, but you may recognize something about him.\" Dylan set the pot to perk and joined Ethan at the table.\n\n\"Is that the best they could do with his face?\" Ethan asked as he enlarged the image on his tablet.\n\nDylan prickled at the perceived insult, even though it echoed his own feelings. It was okay for him to criticize Jimmy; it wasn't okay for Slick to do so.\n\n\"If it could be better, it would be. Does his body seem familiar? Nate and I think he may be a body builder, or at least someone who works out frequently. We're checking gyms in the area for new members.\"\n\n\"It doesn't ring any bells,\" Ethan stared at the image, studying the man's carriage. \"He's big, imposing. Seems to me I'd remember him if I'd ever met him.\"\n\n\"We also think he has a second car, not as flashy as the Mas. We're checking rental houses in the area with a two car garage minimum. At least it's something to go on.\"\n\n\"That's good, but it may not help. Also check suitable homes with owners away on an extended trip. When people in these circles travel, they often stay in friend's homes, rather than rely on public accommodations. Our boy would definitely prefer his privacy.\"\n\n\"Makes sense If you've already got money, why spend it when you can freeload off of your friends?\" Dylan barely disguised his disgust with the upper echelon.\n\n\"Exactly. Better lodgings, often with built-in servants, more privacy, and no expenses. It is what it is.\" Ethan shrugged.\n\n\"Morning, boys,\" Jerry breezed into the room looking refreshed and cheerful.\n\nEthan scowled briefly, wondering how she could look so good after the near emotional breakdown she suffered last night.\n\n\"Morning, sunshine,\" Dylan replied. \"You look chipper this morning. Did you get a little shut-eye at the opera?\"\n\nJerry's smile nearly faltered, but she held it in place. She was a pro at blocking out unpleasantness, and was determined to behave as if last night's emotional turmoil had never happened. At least in front of Ethan and Dylan.\n\n\"The opera was wonderful, thank you.\" Jerry told him as she moved into the kitchen, stopping short just inside the door. \"Who made that sludge?\" She leaned back to look at them accusingly. \"It's practically standing on the counter on its own.\"\n\n\"I made it. Slick here looked like he could use a jolt.\" Dylan tossed his thumb at Ethan.\n\n\"What a waste.\" Jerry grumbled and poured the thick coffee down the drain. \"What are you two looking at? Did you find something?\" She called as she prepared a fresh pot.\n\nDylan brought her up to speed, sharing the image of the unsub when she came back into the room.\n\n\"He's big.\" She echoed Ethan's comment. \"Fits the description that Sonja's neighbor gave you. His clothes look high end, maybe even tailored.\"\n\n\"You're right,\" Ethan finally spoke up. \"How did I miss that? There can't be too many tailors in town, and a man accustomed to the finer things will always go for the best.\"\n\n\"It's another avenue to explore,\" Dylan punched in a text to Nate. \"Can't have too many of those. Of course, who's to say that he'll need anything new? He could have brought a sufficient wardrobe with him.\"\n\n\"True, but it's worth checking out.\" Jerry hovered near the kitchen doorway, waiting for the coffee to brew. The makeup she'd applied this morning hid the evidence of her sleepless night, but she still felt the effects. She needed coffee, badly, and she needed it now. \"What's on the agenda today?\"\n\n\"You two made a splash again,\" Dylan nodded at the paper lying open on the table. \"Nate wants you to go out together, shopping, and to lunch. Give the paps something to do, following you around.\" He grinned up at her.\n\n\"I should also check in with Kim, see if she's heard from Sonja.\" Jerry moved into the kitchen, grateful that the coffee was finally ready.\n\n\"If she's heard from Sonja, it'll be a bloody miracle.\" Ethan growled.\n\n\"Still, I should keep in touch.\" Jerry agreed.\n\n\"If Sonja's dead, and we know she is, he's either already romancing another victim, or he's on the prowl.\" Dylan joined Jerry in the kitchen.\n\n\"We need to step it up, somehow make him notice me.\" Jerry prepared two cups, bringing one to Ethan.\n\n\"Agreed.\" Ethan gave her a smile of thanks, noticing the carefully hidden dark spots beneath her eyes. It made him feel slightly better, knowing that she'd had as difficult a time sleeping as he.\n\n\"That's pretty much what Nate thinks, so you two should prepare for a day of it. Sightseeing, shopping, hobnobbing wherever you can. I'm sure you know the drill.\" He looked pointedly at Ethan.\n\nEthan ignored the jibe. \"Our boy wouldn't be caught dead at typical tourist traps, but he may be trolling coffee shops, bistros, and the like, in the neighborhood.\"\n\n\"Do you have any idea how many bistros, cafés, bakeries, juice bars, and coffee shops are in Nob Hill? We could hit a different one every ten minutes and be busy into next week. We should start with Sonja's favorites, I assume Jimmy's already checked for overlaps with the other victims.\" Jerry questioned Dylan.\n\n\"Probably, but I haven't seen the report.\" He picked up his phone and began texting, this time to Jimmy, with a copy to Nate. \"I know he requested her credit card statements, but I don't know if he has them yet. Everything is in her companion's business name. She doesn't have even a single account in her name.\"\n\n\"What an idiot,\" Jerry spoke without thinking, then felt bad. \"Sorry, I mean what woman puts herself in that position? No bank account, no credit history, no property. She's totally dependent on the good graces of her companion.\"\n\n\"What about the companion? Has anyone spoken with him?\" Ethan asked.\n\n\"He's out of town, but we're on it. I seriously doubt he knows more about her daily activities than her credit card statements will give us.\" Dylan slid the newspaper over to Jerry. \"You two look good together.\" He teased.\n\nShe wrinkled her nose and then glanced down at the photo. The camera had caught her between crying jags. She was grateful that the angle was from the side, rather than straight on. She was standing close to Ethan, just before getting into the car. The homeless lady he'd helped was visible in the background.\n\n\"At least we're getting press.\" She threw back at Dylan. Feeling her face becoming flushed at the memory of riding home, snuggled against Ethan, she attempted to change the subject.\n\n\"You should speak to Kim, officially. If anyone knows more than the credit trail, it'll be her. She and Sonja were close.\"\n\n\"Good idea. I need a reason for the inquiry, so as not to blow your cover. Sonja didn't have any close family, so who else might report her missing?\" Dylan mused aloud.\n\n\"Say it was the neighbor.\" Ethan offered. \"Did you ever speak with the one on the first floor?\"\n\n\"Not yet. A Miss Abigail Collins lives there, alone, with her two cats. That's my first stop today, then I'll hunt down Kim. I spoke with the landlord last night. He was no help at all; lives in Los Angeles, never even met Sonja.\"\n\n\"I'll call her after you speak with her.\" Jerry added. \"She may tell me more than she'll tell you.\"\n\n\"It's possible. I'll call you after I find her. You two have fun today. Smile pretty for the cameras.\" He stood and headed for the door.\n\nWhen they were alone, Jerry struggled to find words for Ethan. She'd spent the night thinking of him as much more than a partner, but she didn't want it to show.\n\n\"I suppose I should get dressed,\" Ethan began, perplexed at Jerry's sudden shyness.\n\n\"Okay, I'm ready whenever you are. We can go to breakfast, and then meander around the area, I suppose.\"\n\n\"Sounds like a plan.\" Ethan disappeared, leaving Jerry alone with her thoughts.\n\nIf she allowed it to intrude, the night before was crystal clear in her mind. The memory of her mother's face, and the feel of Ethan holding her close, meshed into one warm feeling of being cared for, cherished, loved. The feeling was as foreign to her as the lavish luxury of her current situation.\n\nJerry avoided reliving the pieces of her childhood at all costs. She blocked out much of the horrors, most of the time, but found that she could recall any event at will. Groping hands reaching for her at night, days of terror when she waited, as quietly as possible, to be let out of the closet, moments so terrible that she prayed for death to take her away. She'd considered her beauty a curse then, attracting more attention than she ever wanted, in ways that no little girl should ever experience.\n\nBeing consigned to a group home at the age of sixteen was the best thing that ever happened to her. Meals were regular, school was a must, and the matrons in charge of her floor had no interest in her body at all. During the last two years of high school, her natural aptitude blossomed, earning her a scholarship to college, far away from her home state. She had no desire to ever return to Louisiana, nor did she claim it as her own. She fashioned her life as she wanted, during the four years it took her to graduate, suppressing memories best forgotten, and focusing on the life she had never dared dream of, as a child.\n\nYet here she was, years later, remembering the woman who gave her life, only to leave her to face it on her own. Logically, she knew her mother's death was not her mother's fault, but she'd spent so many years placing the blame for her miserable existence squarely on her mother's shoulders, that it felt odd to associate her memory with love. Even odder still was the fact that Ethan had become part of it; he was her partner, no matter how convincingly he played the role of lover and friend. She could not afford to blur the lines.\n\nJust then, Ethan appeared, dressed in slacks and a button down shirt tailored to fit his frame. Did the man ever look bad? Jerry wondered, as she admired the way he moved into the room with confidence. Casual elegance suited him to a tee.\n\n\"Shall we?\" He waited by the door with an inviting smile.\n\nLogic fled as Jerry rose to join him.\n\n~~~\n\n\"Why are you asking so many questions? Has something happened to that girl? Who's gonna take me and Percy to the vet?\" The crotchety octogenarian eyed Dylan as if he was the devil incarnate.\n\nPasting on a smile to hide his impatience, Dylan tried to reassure the woman. \"She's been reported as missing, but we don't know that anything has happened to her. Do you remember seeing the man she left with two days ago?\"\n\n\"Humph. The only man I ever seen her with was Mr. High and Mighty, Randall something or other. Drops by every other night, like clockwork, up until this past week. Must be out of town 'cause he sure wouldn't miss what that girl's giving him, if you know what I mean.\" The woman raised her chin and gave her best holier than thou impression.\n\n\"Did you see the man she left with, two days ago?\" Dylan asked again, his polite demeanor was beginning to wear thin.\n\n\"Oh, I saw him alright. Didn't even have the decency to come inside, waited for her out by the curb, like he was picking up an order at a drive-thru window or something. He's been coming around ever since the other one's been gone, but I never seen him come inside.\"\n\n\"Can you describe him for me?\"\n\n\"Big fella, black hair, fancy clothes, fancy car. Other than that I didn't pay much mind. What that girl chooses to do with her life is her business, no matter how wrong it is. Like my mother always told me; men won't buy the cow, if they get the milk for free.\" The woman's grey head bobbed up and down for emphasis.\n\n\"Yes, Ma'am. Did you see the man's car?\" Dylan asked, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.\n\n\"It was red, one of them convertibles. That's all I know.\" The woman turned away from the door. \"Percy, get down off that counter,\" she called to the unseen animal. Turning back to Dylan, she put her hands on her hips. \"Look, if that girl got herself in trouble, I'm not surprised. Nothing good comes from cavorting with men that way. Still, she was nice enough; always spoke to me, even ran errands for me on occasion, and promised to take us to the vet tomorrow. Now, I guess I'll have to call a cab. Anyway, I hope you find her.\" She began pushing the door closed, but Dylan slipped his card through in the nick of time.\n\n\"I'd appreciate it if you'd call me, if you think of anything else that might help.\" The card disappeared, just before the door clicked shut.\n\n~~~\n\n\"These scones remind me of my housekeeper's specialty as a child. I've never found any anywhere that could rival hers, but these come close.\" The delight in Ethan's eyes made Jerry want to buy out every scone in the place, just for him.\n\n\"I've never had scones before, but these are good.\" Jerry smiled at the expression of pure joy on Ethan's face.\n\n\"That's a crime, never having had scones.\" Ethan placed another one on her plate. The small bakery, just around the corner from the condo, enticed them inside with the delicious aroma of baked goods, but the quaint atmosphere kept them at a small café table in the corner. Even though the table was adjacent to the front window, a prime location to see and be seen. It felt intimate, as if they were alone in the city, immune to the constant stream of sightseers, and city dwellers.\n\n\"I'd have to agree, these things are a little taste of heaven.\" Jerry followed Ethan's lead, spreading strawberry jam onto the soft center of one steaming slice of bread. \"But you say your housekeeper makes better?\" Jerry's gave him an incredulous look.\n\n\"Hard to believe, but yes, just a bit. She adds something that takes the fluffiness to a whole new level.\" He took another bite and audibly sighed. \"I've tried to bribe the recipe from her, but she'll have none of it. Tells me that if she gives me the recipe, I'll never come back to see her.\" He grinned.\n\n\"So, she still works for you, or your family?\"\n\n\"Yes, where she'll likely stay, even after she can no longer perform her duties. She _is_ family.\" Ethan unabashedly licked the jam from his fingertips. \"My parents worked quite a bit when I was young. Ella practically raised me.\"\n\nJerry pushed down the twinge of jealousy before it could flourish. She would've been happy with one loving mother; Ethan had two. \"Sounds like you love her very much.\"\n\n\"I do. She's a second mum.\" He smiled at Jerry warmly. \"I've told you scads about my family. Tell me something about yours.\" He invited.\n\n\"Not much to tell. I have no living relatives.\" Through the years, Jerry had learned to smile when she made that statement, to avoid any unwanted sympathy.\n\n\"I'm sorry.\" Ethan covered her hand with his. \"That must be difficult.\" He felt Jerry stiffen, and decided to back off. \"There're all kinds of family, though. Take Dylan, for example. The way you two go at each other, it feels like you're brother and sister.\"\n\nJerry laughed, grateful for the new direction of conversation. \"It's a pleasure to give Dylan a hard time, I'm sure he feels the same. We've worked some pretty tough cases together, I guess the jibes became an alternative to tension, then they stuck.\" Jerry shrugged her shoulders. \"No matter how much I like to aggravate him, there's no one else I'd rather have on my side.\"\n\n\"Good to know.\" Ethan turned to watch the passersby. \"I suppose we should get out there, walk around the neighborhood.\"\n\n\"Good thing, too. I need to walk off these scones.\" Jerry began tidying the table.\n\n\"You're perfect, I doubt a hundred scones would change that.\" Ethan's eyes bore into hers for a brief second, before his expression became guarded.\n\n\"Why, thank you, kind sir.\" Jerry tried to lighten the tone as they stood to leave. \"But if I ate a hundred of those things, I wouldn't fit through the door, much less into all those fancy new clothes hanging in the closet.\"\n\n\"I'll get some to go, we'll test your theory.\" Ethan grinned as Jerry poked him in the ribs.\n\n~~~\n\n\"But who called you? Sonja's family lives on the east coast, and they're not at all close. What do you think happened to her?\" Kim peppered Dylan with questions as she stepped aside, allowing him entry to her apartment.\n\n\"A neighbor became concerned after seeing a news article about the woman found on the cliffs several days ago. She said that Sonja resembled the lady. I'm sure it's nothing, but it's best that we investigate.\" Dylan attempted to relax Kim with a smile. The young woman was pacing the floor and wringing her hands.\n\n\"What lady? I haven't watched the news lately. Show me.\" Kim demanded.\n\nDylan scrolled through several screens on his phone before presenting Kim with the image of Jenna, alive and well. The photo was taken from her apartment during the sweep.\n\n\"Oh, my God, she does look like Sonja. Her hair color is practically identical and her eyes have the same almond shape. What happened to her?\"\n\n\"This woman was found murdered on the cliffs above Muir woods. We believe she was killed by someone she knew, and trusted. Someone she was dating.\"\n\nKim sat down hard on the sofa, as if her feet had suddenly become jelly. \"Sonja was dating someone new. It was supposed to be a secret.\" Her voice was barely above a whisper.\n\n\"Have you ever met him?\" Dylan sat across from the obviously distraught woman.\n\n\"No. Sonja told me his name was Oscar; apparently he had money and an English accent. They'd only been seeing each other for about two weeks.\" She paused and looked up at Dylan. \"Sonja's boyfriend, Randall, is married. He wouldn't like knowing that Sonja was seeing someone else.\"\n\n\"I'm sure he wouldn't. What else can you tell me about Oscar?\" Dylan's voice was gentle, not at all judgmental.\n\n\"Nothing. Sonja was very closed-mouthed about their relationship. It's odd really, she tells me everything about Randall. I just thought it was new, you know? And good. That she didn't want to jinx it.\" Kim wrung her hands together repeatedly. \"Do you think Oscar hurt her? Is that why you're here?\"\n\n\"We just want to find her. I was hoping you could tell me more about her habits, where she liked to go, what she liked to do, other friends that she might have confided in.\"\n\n\"Sure, that's easy.\" Kim was relieved to be able to help. \"Most of the time, Sonja kept to a schedule. Randall liked to know how to find her on a moment's notice, if you know what I mean.\" Kim wrinkled her nose. \"Since he's been out of town, and she started seeing Oscar, her schedule went by the wayside.\"\n\n\"How did she meet Oscar?\"\n\n\"She met him at a juice bar, near her apartment. Kim would go there at least four times each week, after her power walk.\"\n\n\"When was this?\"\n\n\"Nearly two weeks ago, right around the time Randall left town. Don't get me wrong, Sonja was loyal to Randall. I've never known her to step out on him before, but Oscar just swept her off her feet.\"\n\n\"How so?\"\n\n\"He took her on the town, you know, fancy dinners, nightclubs, all the good stuff that Randall couldn't do with her. She told me he was very romantic.\"\n\n\"So, she thought they had a future?\"\n\n\"I think so. At least she hoped they did. Sonja was tired of the lifestyle. She wanted a family. Randall would never offer her anything more than a place to live, and a platinum card.\"\n\n\"I understand.\" Dylan flipped open a notebook. \"Why don't you tell me about Sonja's schedule, start with the name of the juice bar where she met Oscar.\"\n\n~~~\n\n\"If I drink another coffee, or eat another pastry, I'll explode.\" Jerry hooked her arm through Ethan's as they strolled past trendy shops selling overpriced must-haves.\n\n\"Too much of a good thing?\" Ethan smiled down at her, then turned his attention to a particularly fashionable window. \"That dress would look smashing on you.\" He nodded.\n\nJerry followed his gaze and nearly sighed with admiration. The emerald green, beaded. gown shimmered with sparkling crystals in the midday sun. The simple cut, a sweetheart neckline and long, straight, skirt would hug her in all the right places.\n\n\"It's beautiful, but I can't imagine where I'd wear it.\" They both stopped to admire the twinkling beauty.\n\n\"We'll find a place, trust me. Let's go in.\" Ethan was pulling her towards the boutique's door.\n\n\"Ethan, no.\" Jerry told him in hushed tones as she pulled back slightly. \"My closet is filled already.\" She doubted her checking account could handle the purchase, and she knew that Nate would never approve it as a business expense.\n\n\"Let's just see how it looks on you,\" he coaxed, giving her a killer smile.\n\nWhen Jerry emerged from the dressing room, Ethan nearly swallowed his tongue. She was a vision; the dress fit her like a glove, emphasizing her small waist, elongating her already slender neck, and creating an alluring décolletage that beckoned him to bury his face in her smooth skin.\n\n\"Amazing.\" Though standing was suddenly difficult, he couldn't help but go and touch her. Placing both hands on her shoulders, he turned her towards the three-way mirror. \"Just look at how lovely you are.\"\n\nHer shoulders tingled beneath his touch, and his hot breath brought goose bumps to her neck, but it was the hungry look in his eyes that had Jerry's knees wanting to buckle. She managed to stay upright, heeding his request to look at their reflection.\n\nThe couple in the mirror was sophisticated, polished, and gorgeous. Jerry very nearly did not recognize the woman as herself, when she finally pulled her eyes away from Ethan's.\n\n\"The dress is lovely,\" she breathed, still in awe of the perfection of their reflection.\n\n\"Yes, but it's you who brings it to life. Simply stunning.\" Ethan trailed his hands down her arms, pleased when he heard her breath hitch at his touch.\n\n\"I'm not buying it.\" Jerry tried to keep her cool, but the feel of his warm fingers, and the closeness of his body, made it difficult.\n\n\"Of course not.\" He inched closer until he could smell the light scent of strawberry that drifted up from her hair. They stood there for a long moment, staring into each other's eyes in the mirror.\n\n\"Aren't you two the ones in the paper?\" A nasally voice broke the spell of the moment.\n\nWith obvious effort, Ethan let go of Jerry, stepped back, and turned towards the intruder. \"Our picture was in the newspaper this morning.\" He said politely to the short woman holding a purse almost as wide as she was.\n\n\"It thought it was you. See Maude, I told you we'd see some celebrities on this street.\" She nodded to her friend, barely visible over the clothing display.\n\n\"Excuse me,\" Jerry made her escape back into the dressing room, leaving Ethan to handle the women's curiosity.\n\n\"So who are you?\" The woman continued, unconcerned with the rudeness of her question.\n\n\"We're nobody, just a couple who happen to enjoy the opera. If you ladies will excuse me,\" Ethan gave them both a smile, before heading over to the cash register, discreetly tucked into the corner of the boutique.\n\nArrangements to send the dress to their condo were completed before Jerry ever exited the dressing room.\n\n~~~\n\nDuring dessert at the third café they'd patronized, Jerry received a text from Nate. Her smile froze in place as she read the cryptic message. It took effort to make it genuine as she raised her face to Ethan and the crowded room.\n\n\"Ooh, look honey, the dealer can deliver our painting this afternoon. I'm so excited, can we leave now?\" She handed the phone to Ethan.\n\n\"Found her. Meet back at your place\" was the message that sent a shiver of dread along Ethan's skin. \"Sure, sweetie, let's go.\" Handing her the phone, he tossed several bills on the table and stood to take her hand.\n\nThe tall, black haired man in the corner watched them leave. He'd been watching them since they came in, from his perch behind an oversized palm tree. She was perfect; tall, stunning with the same luscious brown hair as his Beth.\n\nHe'd come out today in hopes of running into the new couple, having seen their image plastered on the society section of the newspaper for the past few days. He wondered if she was as lovely in person as the camera suggested. He was not disappointed.\n\nHis sweet Sonja had proven to be a disappointment. Watching the life drain from her eyes had not given him the satisfaction he'd anticipated. It was because her Randall left town too soon, he thought, forcing him to move up the seduction timetable before he'd had a chance to adequately get to know her. He'd only been following Sonja a week before Randall left, giving him the opening he needed. He'd rushed the whole thing, not even taking time to find a replacement.\n\nAs soon as he'd seen Jerry's image in the paper, he'd known she was the one. Now that he had found her in person, he was certain. The way she moved her head when she laughed at the supposed Duke, reminded him of Beth. When she walked away from the table, her hips swayed with natural provocation, just like Beth's.\n\nHe would take his time with this one, he thought, taking a last sip of coffee. No matter if he had to romance her from underneath Bennett's nose, he would make this one special. Keeping his eyes on the pair as they waited at the crosswalk, he casually stood and followed them down the street.\nChapter Twelve\n\n\"A chopper spotted her on a ledge, miles from nowhere. There are a few hiking trails in the area, but it's not a very populated spot. Forensics is searching for tire tracks, footprints, and anything else, on the landing above the cliffs. We could get lucky; it hasn't rained in a few days, so the freshest ones could be his.\" Nate's image on the monitor looked weary.\n\n\"There's no doubt that it's Sonja?\" Jerry asked.\n\n\"No, it's definitely her. Time of death is roughly forty-six hours ago. She's remarkably well-preserved for being left in the wild for two days.\"\n\n\"Same M.O.?\" Dylan's long gait was eating up the hardwoods in front of the wall of windows.\n\n\"Clean slice on her neck, right to left. Tossed her over the cliff like she was a ragdoll. Sucker's powerful; Sonja was not a petite girl.\"\n\n\"None of them have been petite. He likes his women tall.\" Ethan interjected.\n\n\"Did you guys spot anyone fitting his description this morning?\" Nate asked.\n\n\"Not really. Men with longish black hair are not exactly a phenomenon in this part of the country. San Francisco has its share of hippies. But no one matching the description, and also resembling a linebacker, wearing designer clothing, stood out. And he would.\" Jerry left the pacing to Dylan; she'd already done her share of walking for the day. Instead, she and Ethan sat together on the sofa.\n\n\"What about you, Dylan, did Kim, or the neighbor, know anything useful?\"\n\n\"Actually, yes. The neighbor confirmed the description of the red Mas, but she didn't offer much else. Kim gave us a list of places that Sonja frequented, said Sonja was a stickler for her schedule, up until Oscar came on the scene. She confirmed what she'd already told Jerry, the guy had money and a British accent. Other than that, she didn't have many details. Sonja was uncharacteristically private about their relationship.\"\n\n\"Matches what we already know.\" Nate began scribbling something on the pad in front of him. \"Dylan, go back to Kim and let her know that we found Sonja. Jerry, call Kim soon afterward, to check in. Try to get close to her, be a friend. She may know something more than what she's told Dylan, even if she doesn't remember it now. She's the closest link we've got to his latest victim.\"\n\n\"Will do, Boss.\" Dylan and Jerry spoke in unison.\n\n\"Ethan, meet me at the drop-kill zone. I'm sending the coordinates and a car. Maybe you'll notice something similar to his other drop zones.\"\n\n\"On my way.\" Ethan nodded.\n\n\"Jerry, watch your back. Just because you didn't see him this morning, doesn't mean that he didn't spot you.\" Nate's stern warning filled the room.\n\n\"Yes, sir.\" Jerry gave him a reassuring smile, just before the screen went black.\n\n\"He's right. We could have missed him, especially if he was behind us. Neither of us were very observant when we left the café.\" Ethan frowned.\n\n\"I'll be fine. I'll be here until Rodney takes me to Kim's, assuming I get an invitation.\"\n\n\"Get an invitation.\" Dylan growled and stopped pacing. Nate's right, she's the best link we have to Sonja, at the moment.\"\n\n\"I know.\" Jerry looked up at Dylan. \"Get out of here, would ya? The sooner you make notification, the sooner I can do my thing.\"\n\n\"I'm going.\" Dylan tweaked her head as he walked by the couch. \"Be careful, princess.\"\n\n\"Yeah, yeah.\" Jerry answered.\n\n\"Yes, please be careful.\" Ethan turned to her as Dylan closed the door. \"He could already be watching you.\"\n\n\"Jeez, you'd think that I was a shrinking violet. You do remember that I'm a trained agent, right?\"\n\n\"Yes, I remember. But I still want you to be careful.\" Ethan leaned over to squeeze her hand. Just then, his phone buzzed. \"Looks like the car's here. I'm off.\"\n\n\"You be careful, too.\" Jerry grinned up at him, surprised when she saw Ethan's face lean down to hers. The kiss he dropped on her forehead was both friendly, and filled with promise.\n\n~~~\n\n\"Call Kim now, Jerry. She's a mess.\" Dylan's voice was terse over the phone, but Jerry understood. Notifications were never easy. \"I'm sure she can use a friend.\"\n\n\"I'm sure she could.\" Jerry's voice was filled with sympathy. \"How about you?\"\n\n\"I'm not the one to worry about, but that was rough.\" Dylan conceded.\n\n\"I know. Those two were close. Are you coming back here?\"\n\n\"Not yet. I think I'll join Nate and Ethan at the crime scene. I'll see you later. Be careful.\"\n\n\"Will do.\" Jerry tried to hide her irritation at the men's constant warnings to be careful. She knew how to handle herself; Dylan and Nate damn well knew it.\n\nKim answered on the first ring, tears evident in her voice.\n\n\"Kim? It's Jerry. Are you okay, what's wrong?\" Jerry didn't have to pretend concern. Her heart broke for the young woman who'd just lost her best friend.\n\n\"It's Sonja. She's dead.\" Kim wailed through the receiver.\n\n\"Dead? Are you alone, can I come over? You shouldn't be alone.\" Jerry's innate sense of compassion overtook any agency training.\n\n\"Could you? The FBI agent just left, and I don't know what to do.\" Kim sounded so grateful, Jerry nearly winced at the deception. But it couldn't be helped.\n\n\"I'm on my way.\" Jerry disconnected, grabbed her purse, and bolted for the door.\n\nShe didn't notice the shiny, dark blue sedan, pull away from the curb as she and Rodney drove by. Rodney picked up the tail almost immediately.\n\n\"Looks like we've got company.\" He told her, glancing in the rearview mirror.\n\n\"Someone is following us?\" Surprised, Jerry nearly turned to look out the back window, but she stopped in the nick of time. \"Can you see the driver?\"\n\n\"No, he's staying too far behind. I'm gonna do an experiment. Sit tight.\" Rodney told her just before he swerved sharply to the left, making an unannounced turn. Jerry skidded halfway across the seat.\n\nIs he still there?\" she asked.\n\n\"Yep, still with us. What should I do, keep going to Kim's?\"\n\n\"No, pull over at the first coffee shop you see. I'll jump out and grab a few things to take to Kim's. If he stays with us, we'll know it's him.\"\n\n\"There's one up ahead, but I can't find a close park. I'm not letting you walk down the street by yourself.\"\n\n\"Don't be silly, Randall. Grabbing a woman off the street is not his M.O. He likes to wine and dine his victims, lull them into a relationship. Besides, I know how to protect myself.\" Jerry's tone was more exasperated than it would normally have been, but she was fed up with the males in her world thinking she needed their protection.\n\n\"Okay, okay. Don't get so snooty. I'm just following orders. It's a moot point, anyway, a space just opened up.\" He guided the large car into a parallel parking space.\n\nJerry didn't even look around as she exited the car, even though the desire to do so was palpable. She took her time walking to the coffee shop, stopping to admire the display in the adjacent boutique. The reflection of a shiny blue sedan passed smoothly beside her town car, driving slower than necessary. She strained to see the driver's reflection, but couldn't for the tinted windows.\n\nRodney was busy jotting down the license plate numbers as the blue sedan passed by. He called it in as he watched the car stop at the next stop sign, before making a left turn.\n\nJerry came back to the car laden with two large coffees and a box of pastries. The dark blue sedan was nowhere to be seen.\n\n\"Did you get the license?\" She asked Rodney as she slid into the backseat.\n\n\"They're running it now.\" He told her.\n\n\"Where did he go?\"\n\n\"Turned left at the next corner. If he's going around the block, he should be coming up on us again, soon.\"\n\n\"Let's sit a moment and find out.\"\n\nBefore Jerry had finished the sentence, the dark blue sedan turned left onto the street behind them. Rodney spotted it immediately. \"There he is. Time to go.\"\n\nManeuvering the town car back into traffic in front of the sedan was a challenge, but Rodney managed it. Soon, they were headed to Kim's, the sedan maintaining a discreet distance behind them.\n\n\"He's definitely following us. What do you want to do?\" Rodney looked at Jerry in the rearview mirror.\n\n\"Go to Kim's. For all he knows, I'm visiting a friend. How soon before we have the license plate information?\"\n\n\"Didn't say, but they know it's a priority. What's our next move?\"\n\n\"I visit Kim, as planned. Even if we have him, she's expecting me, and she needs a friend right now. You keep an eye on him, try to get a visual on his face. Oh, and contact Nate, bring him up to speed.\" Jerry gathered the pastry box and coffee cups, as Rodney pulled to the curb in front of Kim's building.\n\n\"We're not going to arrest him?\" Rodney was surprised.\n\n\"On what charge? Driving around in San Francisco? He's left no DNA evidence, of any kind, on any of the bodies. He's changed his appearance since Europe, so we can't legally tie him to those murders. The only evidence we have is the description from a stoned woman, who saw him drive away with Sonja on the day she was killed. That's not enough to get an arrest warrant, much less a conviction.\" Jerry paused with her hand on the door handle. \"At this point, we have to catch him in the act, in order to pin the other murders on him. So we play the game.\"\n\nRodney's eyes grew wide. \"So you really are bait, not just a lure. You're gonna let him try to kill you?\"\n\n\"That's the plan.\" Jerry nodded. \"Call Nate. He'll want to get a tail on him right away. See ya.\" She jumped out of the car before Rodney could ask any more questions. The thoughts of getting close to a killer made her skin crawl, but someone had to do it. The good news was that he was focused on her now, but it disturbed her that she wasn't aware of when she'd caught his eye. Had her attraction to Ethan interfered with her powers of observation?\n\nJerry's musings stopped when Kim opened the door. The woman was obviously distraught and still a little in shock. Jerry made herself at home, tending to her as if she were an old friend.\n\n\"I can't believe that she's gone.\" Kim placed her uneaten pastry on the plate in front of her. \"I saw her just the other day, we went to the new boutique opening in the mall. And I talked with her the next day, the day she died,\" a sob broke through her words.\n\n\"You said you spoke with her on the phone, just before she met Oscar?\" Jerry patted Kim's hand to comfort and encourage her to continue. She hated probing for answers, but Kim could help their case by providing details she may not be aware that she knew.\n\n\"Yes. She was so excited, she really believed that Oscar could be it, you know?\" Kim blew her nose loudly. \"She said he was so kind and attentive, he made her feel like a princess. What kind of man does that? Makes a woman fall for him, then kills her?\"\n\n\"A sicko, that's for sure.\" Jerry commiserated before prodding further. \"What else did she say about him? It might help you to talk about it, and it might help the cops catch him.\"\n\n\"I know, I've been trying to remember ever since that nice FBI agent, Dylan something or other, left. She said he was punctual, wealthy, and British. He was close to our age, I think, maybe in his early thirties. Sonja joked that he didn't need little blue pills.\" Kim turned to Jerry to explain. \"Randall is a good bit older than Sonja.\"\n\n\"Got it.\" Jerry smiled and nodded. \"Did Sonja mention the places they liked to go?\"\n\n\"That was one of the things she really liked about him, he wasn't afraid to be seen with her in public.\" Kim shook her head. \"One of the worst aspects of dating married men is the isolation. We can do whatever we like, on our own, or with friends. The majority of our time together is spent inside the condo, unless we go out of town.\" Kim didn't appear at all embarrassed to discuss her situation.\n\n\"I know what you mean. Before Ethan, I was seeing a married man. It can suck, at times.\" Jerry tried to guide Kim back to Sonja and Oscar's outings. \"It's nice that Sonja was able to enjoy herself these past few weeks.\" Jerry winced when she realized what she'd said. Sonja may have enjoyed herself, but she did so with her killer.\n\nKim didn't miss the connection. \"I know, at least she had fun, and fell in love. That's always such a nice feeling. Why couldn't it have been real? Sonja deserved better than that.\" Fresh tears began to flow.\n\n\"I agree, but let's focus on the good. Sonja had fun, she was excited about new possibilities. Where did they go?\"\n\n\"He took her to dinner, fancy ones, you know? Once to The Arbors, and once to Patron's, but she didn't mention the others. He also managed to get tickets to that new club, Diablo's. She loved that, getting all dressed up, and going on real dates.\" Kim sniffled.\n\n\"Did you ever meet him?\" Jerry asked softly.\n\n\"No. Sonja said he wanted to keep their relationship private, special. Just between the two of them. That suited her as well. If Randall found out about Oscar, Sonja would be looking for a new place to live, among other things. She wanted to make sure that she had a future with Oscar, before she told Randall anything.\"\n\n\"That's understandable.\" Jerry offered.\n\n\"Oh, my God, Randall. Does he know that Sonja's dead? Does he know that she was seeing someone else? I should have asked that nice FBI agent. Sonja wouldn't want Randall to know about Oscar. She really did care for him. She just wanted something of her own, you know? Marriage and a family.\" Kim began searching for Dylan's card. \"He said I could call him. Do you think I'm being silly?\"\n\n\"No, you're not. You're simply looking out for your friend's wishes. It won't hurt to call the agent.\" Jerry glanced down at the pastry Kim had left on the plate. \"Have you eaten anything today? I'm happy to order lunch, or fix something for you, before I leave.\"\n\n\"I can't think about food right now, but Charlie's coming over in a couple of hours. We're having dinner together. Maybe by then, I'll feel like eating.\"\n\n\"Is there anything else I can do for you? I can only imagine what you're going through, I wish I could be of more help.\"\n\n\"You've been great. We hardly know each other, yet you ran right over here when I needed someone. I really appreciate that.\" Kim looked at her gratefully. \"It's time I called a few friends who need to hear about Sonja from me, not on the news.\" Kim sighed audibly.\n\n\"Would you like me to stay while you make the calls?\"\n\n\"No, thanks. I really think I need to be alone for a while, you know?\"\n\n\"Sure. You've got my number, call me if you need anything.\"\n\n\"I will.\" Kim gave Jerry a quick hug, before walking her to the door.\n\n~~~\n\n\"What's the word on our friend?\" Jerry asked Rodney, as soon as she closed the car door. \"I see he's still parked down the street.\"\n\n\"The plates are registered to a Sarah Besher, but they don't match the car he's driving. He must have switched them, so no help there. Nate put a tail on him, even though I haven't been able to get a good look at his face.\" Rodney pulled away from the curve into traffic and watched as the blue sedan followed suit. \"It has to be him, though. Who else would be following us around?\"\n\n\"No one that I know of.\" Jerry sat back in the seat and closed her eyes, glad to be away from Kim's grief. \"If it is the son-of-a-bitch, I hope he makes his move soon.\" Rodney read the anger in her voice, loud and clear.\n\n\"Nate said to tell you that Casanova left no DNA, or fingerprints that they could find, but they did get a decent tire track near where the body went over the cliff.\"\n\n\"That's something, at least.\" Jerry sighed. \"Take me home, please, Rodney. And park in the garage. Let's see if our shadow can talk his way into a secured building.\"\n\n\"Sounds like a plan.\"\n\n~~~\n\nEthan's impatience nearly got the best of him in the bumper to bumper traffic on the way back to the condo. He'd left the crime scene as soon as Rodney had let them know that Casanova was following Jerry. The site was only thirty minutes out of the city, but at the pace they were traveling, it would take him nearly an hour and a half to get home. He didn't want Jerry there alone, no matter what she said about taking care of herself.\n\nThe ride gave him a chance to inspect his feelings, without the distraction of her presence. He still couldn't get over how attached he felt to her, after knowing her for such a short time. The attraction was elemental, primal, and something he couldn't explain if his life depended on it. The need to protect her grew stronger with every passing moment; he didn't know how to stop it, or if he even wanted to.\n\nHis mother always told him that one day he'd meet a woman who would bring him to his knees. Amused by his flippant attitude towards dating and marriage, she often used the old adage, 'the more stubborn they are, the harder they fall' when discussing his love life, or lack thereof. She was frustrated that his career meant more to him than settling down and starting a family, and she never missed an opportunity to remind him that he wasn't getting any younger.\n\nHe wondered briefly what she would think of Jerry, then decided that she'd probably love her. Being a strong, independent, woman, his mother would appreciate those same qualities in Jerry. The fact that she was drop-dead gorgeous, and would give her beautiful grandchildren, wouldn't hurt either. Ethan smiled at the thought of his mother's delight, if he told her he'd finally fallen in love.\n\nLove. Children. Where in hell had those thoughts come from? He'd known Jerry less than a week, and he was already thinking about marriage? Ethan's smile turned into a scowl. What in the name of sense was happening to him? Sure, he felt a connection with Jerry, more so than he'd ever felt with anyone. But couldn't the connection stem from the unusual circumstances? He was chasing a killer, one they hoped would target her, that alone could be the reason for his protective instincts. He was living with her after all, pretending to be in love. Maybe he was experiencing nothing more than transference. He'd had female partners before, but none had elicited such intense feelings. Jerry made him want to slay dragons, and tame lions, just in case they crossed her path.\n\nNow that the killer had noticed her, he wanted nothing more than to never leave her side. But that wasn't part of the plan. At some point, he had to let Jerry be alone with the monster. It was the only way they could hope to nail him. His gut rolled at the idea of deliberately placing her in danger.\n\nIt was simple, he thought. They'd have to come up with a better plan. No way could he allow Jerry to go off with Casanova on her own, no matter how many agents followed their every move. Feeling better about his decision, Ethan relaxed against the plush leather, letting his thoughts drift to images of caramel-haired children, with almond shaped eyes.\n\n~~~\n\nThe man Sonja called Oscar drove past the building that his new love called home. The driver entered the parking garage, which likely meant that she would be home for a while. It was just as well, the day had gone better than he'd hoped, surely a sign that she was meant for him. Running into the couple at the café was divine intervention, as far as he was concerned. Discovering her place of residence, and getting a description of her car, was another coup. Everything was falling into place.\n\nIt was time for him to make preparations, the first being to change his appearance. Hair color was so easy to alter; maybe he'd go red this time, or reddish brown. He'd have to give it some thought.\n\nHe also needed a new car. The Mas was a bit too conspicuous, but it had done the job in helping to attract his victims in the bay area. San Francisco; who knew that this old city would provide such a plethora of beauties for his pleasure?\n\nAs he made his way up the hills near the Presidio, he congratulated himself on his selection. It was a stroke of luck that the Forresters happened to be summering in Monte Carlo, and offered him their lovely home. Reminding himself to send them a bottle of champagne, he turned the blue sedan into the steep driveway of their ultra-modern home. The garage door was whisper quiet as it closed behind him.\n\n~~~\n\nEthan came through the door with a look of determination that Jerry had yet to see on his chiseled face. He further surprised her by marching directly towards her, as she stood by the wall of windows.\n\nTaking her by the arms, he searched her face. \"Are you okay?\" The earnestness in his voice would have been endearing, if the circumstances were different. As it was, his concern served to piss Jerry off.\n\n\"Oh. My. God. I am sick to death of you all treating me like I'm some incompetent female, who needs a big strong man to take care of her. May I remind you that I am a trained FBI agent, top of my survival class at Quantico, and perfectly capable of kicking your collective butts, all the way to that bridge.\" Jerry nodded towards the Golden Gate as she maneuvered her arms from Ethan's grip. \"Where do you guys get off reminding me to be careful with every other breath, or telling me to stay inside until one of you is with me?\" She tossed her phone towards the sofa, Dylan's text message telling her to stay put still visible on the screen.\n\nJerry dressed in formal finery for the opera was stunning. Jerry ready to tackle a yoga class made his blood boil. But Jerry in a full-blown snit was magnificent. Ethan lowered his arms, trying not to smile in appreciation as she continued her rant.\n\n\"First, Rodney doesn't think I can walk down the block alone. Then, Nate tells me to go straight home, Dylan texts me to \"stay put\" and now you come in all concerned for my welfare. Who are you people? Do I need to wear my badge around, just to remind you that I'm more than capable of taking care of myself?\" She began pacing the length of the wall, Ethan moved out of her way.\n\n\"So we caught his attention, that's a good thing. That was the plan, was it not? Now, we let him make contact.\"\n\n\"No!\" Ethan caught Jerry by the arm as she walked by. \"We find another way get him, one in which you are not the bait.\"\n\nSurprised by the vehemence of his response, Jerry allowed Ethan to hold onto her arm. \"What do you mean, we find another way? This was the plan all along, attract him, then catch him in the act. It's the only way we're sure of a conviction. It's the only way we can absolutely get him off the streets.\"\n\n\"There has to be another way. I will not let him get close to you.\" Ethan turned her around to face him. \"No matter how competent you are, no matter that you received top honors at Quantico, no plan is foolproof. I will not risk you.\" Ethan grabbed her by both arms and hauled her to him, his eyes sending sparks, straight into hers.\n\nJerry was taken off guard by the passion she saw reflected in his face, but the fire in his eyes kept her from pushing him away. She wanted his arms around her, longed to feel his lips on hers once again, this time with meaning. She got her wish.\n\nThe first time she'd tasted him was sweet, and caused butterflies to take flight from her center. Now, as he crushed her lips to his, she couldn't help but be possessed by an all-consuming passion that obliterated any thoughts, leaving room only for a rush of emotion that charged her senses, and melded her to him. Her first and last coherent thought was that 'you really do see stars.'\n\nEthan felt her surrender in the small part of his mind that still worked. She tasted like honey, and heat, and the first dew of springtime. As her body molded to his, he tilted her head and took the kiss deeper, blocking out all reason, giving himself to the pure pleasure that swirled around him.\n\nNeither knew how long they kissed, neither cared. It was difficult to say which one held up the other; both were balanced against each other, as they fell into an abyss filled with psychedelic colors, shooting stars, and the pounding of one heart.\n\nIt was no wonder they missed the front door opening.\n\n\"Ahem,\" Dylan cleared his throat loudly, taken aback though he was, by the scene he'd walked in on.\n\nEthan broke the kiss long enough to glance over his shoulder, but he never loosened his grip on Jerry. She didn't even try to move. \"Not now, Dawes,\" he growled, then tightened his hold, as Jerry came back to her senses, and began pulling away.\n\n\"Sorry Slick, but I have news about Casanova. You remember, the case we're working? The reason that you're here?\" Dylan tried to keep it light, but inside he was seething. He knew Slick would try to weasel his way into Jerry's heart, but he thought she was smart enough to block him. Apparently, he needed to rethink the situation. If what he'd walked in on was any indication, they were either already sleeping together, or soon would be. Jerry deserved better than a player like Barnes, but she was also stubborn enough to have to find out for herself. He'd just have to help pick up the pieces when the son-of-a-bitch walked away.\n\nJerry placed her hand on Ethan's heart, shaking her head slightly. He dropped his arms, and let her go. Stepping away from him was like throwing ice water onto a raging inferno, but she put as much distance between them as was possible. From the look on Dylan's face, he had pretty strong opinions on her getting involved with Ethan, but that was his problem. She'd had enough of men thinking they could tell her what to do.\n\nAs casually as possible, she walked past Dylan and into the kitchen. \"What's up?\" She asked as she surveyed the fridge.\n\n\"It's possible that our boy got careless with Sonja. The M.E. found a partial fingerprint on her arm. The bad news is that it could be Sonja's, he's checking to be sure. I thought you'd like to know, didn't mean to interrupt.\" If looks could kill, Ethan would be lying dead on the floor.\n\nEthan ignored the other man's scowl, he'd grown accustomed to Dylan's attitude. \"That's good, because we need a new plan. There's no way Jerry should be alone with him.\" He stated his opinion as if it were fact.\n\nJerry came back into the room with three bottled waters. She tossed one to each of the men, then settled on the sofa. \"I thought we discussed this already. Acting as bait is not only my job, but it's the only way to convict him. Up until now, and this possible fingerprint, every piece of evidence we have on him is circumstantial. If we arrest him and he walks, how many more women will he kill, before we find him again?\"\n\n\"Yes, but if the fingerprint is viable, and it's not Sonja's, we could arrest him right now.\" Ethan argued.\n\n\"Maybe in Europe, but here we play by the book, it's the only way charges will stick. We'll have to get his prints legally, like from a discarded drink, then match them up. Now that he's noticed Jerry, she's our best way to accomplish that without disturbing the chain of evidence.\" Dylan perched on the arm of the sofa.\n\n\"So, it's okay if Jerry gets killed, as long as you preserve your chain of evidence?\" Ethan's stance indicated that he was ready for a fight.\n\n\"Who said anything about Jerry getting killed? We'll be on her every minute. No way Casanova will get a chance to take her into the woods, if the print is good.\" Dylan crossed his legs and waited for the explosion. Ethan was playing the protective lover to the hilt, he had to hand it to him. If he didn't know what a scum the man was, even he would be impressed.\n\n\" _If_ the print is good?\" Ethan stalked towards Dylan. \"I don't care about the stupid print, she's not getting into a car with that maniac, much less going into the woods with him. We need a new plan.\" Ethan fumed, leveling his eyes at Dylan. \"One that doesn't include Jerry being alone with him.\"\n\n\"Hold on a damn minute!\" Jerry stood and glared at Ethan. \"I decide what's an acceptable risk, not you, or you,\" she shared the glare with Dylan, \"or anyone else. Me. The sooner you get that straight, the smoother this operation will be.\" Jerry paused to take a breath, then softened her tone. \"I appreciate your concern, Ethan, but I understand the dangers, and I'm confident that I can handle them.\" She held up a finger to stop Ethan from speaking. \"The only time he presents any danger to his victims is right at the end, when he kills them. If being part of an attempted murder is the only way to get this guy, then I'm game.\"\n\n\"No, you're insane.\" Ethan had heard enough. \"What are you going to do, let him come up behind you with a knife, then turn the tables on him, just in the nick of time? That's crazy. We know he keeps his victims in the dark about their final 'adventure', so we won't even be able to set up in the area to protect you. We can follow, but what if we get there too late? It only takes a second to sever the carotid artery, then you're dead.\"\n\n\"You're assuming he'll get close enough to me to use the knife.\" Jerry's eyes gleamed. \"Not gonna happen.\"\n\n\"I think he needs a demonstration.\" Dylan interjected, barely concealing his amusement.\n\n\"I don't want to hurt him.\" Jerry's tone was serious.\n\n\"He can take it, can't you Slick?\" Dylan all but wrung his hands in glee. \"There's lots of room, right there in front of the window. Go on, Ethan, try to sneak up on her.\" Dylan discreetly aimed the camera on his phone at the perplexed man.\n\n\"What, you want me to try and hurt her?\" Ethan glanced between Jerry and Dylan. \"You've both lost it.\"\n\n\"You could try,\" Jerry scoffed. \"As if.\" She rolled her eyes and began to pile cushions on the floor. \"May as well give you a soft place to land,\" she winked at Dylan, then smiled sweetly at Ethan.\n\n\"You seriously think you can take me?\" Ethan balked at even thinking of harming Jerry, but if he could prove his point with a gentle demonstration, he'd give it a try. Besides, he didn't like the competitive gleam in her eye. Maybe it was time for a lesson in humility.\n\n\"We'll never know unless we try.\" Jerry deliberately turned her back on him. \"Whenever you're ready.\" She spoke to the opposite wall. \"I'll even close my eyes.\"\n\nDylan hit record button on his phone.\n\nEthan slipped off his shoes in order to help silence his approach. Jerry shook her hands out to the sides, limbering up. She waited, alert for even the slightest movement. Dylan didn't bother to hide his grin any longer, as he checked to make sure the camera was positioned correctly to capture Slick's embarrassment.\n\nJerry was not the only one who had passed rigorous training with flying colors; Ethan knew how to be stealthy, and moved up behind her without making a whisper of a sound. His intention was to grab her arms, with the utmost care, of course, and hold them behind her back, effectively proving his point.\n\nJerry felt the air move as he came closer to her. She'd always had the senses of a cat, and she used every one of them now. Without outwardly moving, she braced herself as she felt him reach for her.\n\nEthan never saw her move. One second, he was reaching for her arms, the next he was lying flat on his back, looking up into her beautiful face.\n\n\"You were saying?\" Jerry's voice held the slightest hint of a taunt as she held her arm out towards him. The stunned look on his face was reward enough, so she did her level best not to laugh.\n\nDylan was not as circumspect. Lying sideways on the sofa, holding his sides from laughter, he still managed to keep the cell phone aimed at Ethan, sprawled on the floor.\n\nEthan took Jerry's hand, more from a desire not to be rude, than from necessity, and let her help him up. His breath was coming back, slowly. He couldn't remember the last time he got the wind knocked out of him.\n\n\"Impressive.\" He told her when he was upright. \"Thanks for thinking of the pillows.\"\n\n\"My pleasure.\" Jerry told him sweetly. \"I hope I didn't hurt you.\"\n\n\"Not at all; I'm just a little winded, that's all.\" Ethan felt more pride in Jerry than humiliation that she had bested him. \"How did you know I was there?\"\n\n\"Shut up, Dylan,\" Jerry admonished him, before answering Ethan. \"I just knew. My reflexes have always been pretty good.\" She didn't bother elaborating on the fact that, all too often, her survival as a child had depended on her quick instincts.\n\n\"I'd say that was more than reflexes; it's as if you have eyes in the back of your head.\" Ethan turned his back to Dylan, effectively ignoring him.\n\n\"Do you see, now, why I'm not worried about Oscar, or whatever he's calling himself? I really am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.\"\n\n\"I never doubted your capabilities, but things don't always go according to plan. What if he changes his M.O. and surprises you? You'll have to be on guard every second you're with him.\"\n\n\"Ethan, I've done this before, many times. I know how to operate undercover. Please stop worrying 'cause you're really starting to piss me off.\" Jerry's voice was kinder than her words.\n\n\"Maybe he needs another demonstration.\" Dylan looked, and sounded, hopeful.\n\n\"Shut up, Dylan.\"\n\n\"Shut up, Dawes.\"\n\nJerry and Ethan spoke as one. Ethan continued.\n\n\"Don't you have somewhere else to be?\" He growled.\n\n\"Nope, right here is just fine.\" Dylan wasn't about to admit that he didn't want to leave Jerry alone with Ethan. \"Besides, Nate should be calling with an update soon.\"\n\n\"Could we speak privately?\" Ethan asked Jerry.\n\n\"Of course, but it won't make a difference. I see no reason to alter the plan, unless the situation changes.\" Jerry answered Dylan's scowl with a look of exasperation, as she led Ethan to the bedroom. At the moment, she'd like to toss both men over her shoulder.\n\nEthan touched her arm as soon as they were alone, turning her to face him. \"I know you're insulted that I want to change the plan, and I'm sorry,\" he began. \"The truth is that I've never felt this way about a partner, or anyone, and I'm pretty much flying by the seat of my pants, as my housekeeper used to say.\"\n\nJerry's heart began to race, but she played it cool. Could he feel for her the way she felt for him? They barely knew each other. \"Sounds like your housekeeper was from the South.\" She smiled.\n\n\"As a matter of fact, she was.\" Ethan returned her smile, stepping closer. \"I have no idea what this is between us, but I know you feel it too. Bottom line, I would rather walk into a hungry lion's den than watch you ride off with a killer. Every instinct I have is screaming at me to protect you, whether you need it or not.\" He hastened to add.\n\nJerry held his gaze, then relaxed, and leaned closer. \"I do feel it, and I don't know what it is either. It's almost as if there's a thick cord connecting us. I know it sounds crazy, but I feel like I've known you forever.\"\n\n\"I feel the same. It's as if you're a part of me, even though I hardly know you. I'd like to rectify that.\" Ethan leaned towards her as Jerry pulled away, a look of surprise on her face. \"No, I'd like to get to know you, not change the way I feel,\" he explained and she relaxed again.\n\n\"I'd like that, too. But it won't change the fact that I _will_ do my job. You'll have to come to terms with that, one way or another.\" Jerry leaned towards Ethan, but this time he pulled away.\n\n\"I'm not sure that I can do that.\" He told her honestly. \"I picture you in danger, and my head nearly explodes.\"\n\nJerry tried an experiment, picturing Ethan in a life-threatening situation. Her gut clenched. \"Okay. I get it. But we have to work through this. I'm an agent, you're an agent. Danger comes with the territory.\"\n\n\"Of course, I know that. This could be one of the reasons that fraternization is frowned upon at Interpol.\"\n\n\"Could be.\" Jerry agreed. \"Fraternization,\" she grinned at him, \"sounds like fun.\"\n\n\"Could be.\" He agreed and drew her into his arms.\n\n~~~\n\nThe pair returned to the living room several minutes later, to find Dylan in a heated conversation.\n\n\"If that's the best you can do, maybe you should look for another job.\" His frustration was tangible as he disconnected the call, before throwing the phone across the sofa.\n\n\"Who licked the red off your candy?\" Jerry asked, trying to appear calmer than she felt. Ethan's kisses, and their mutual declaration, had her emotions in a tailspin.\n\n\"The damn fingerprint is apparently 'too smudged to be of use',\" Dylan quoted. \"They can't even tell if it's Sonja's or the unsub's.\"\n\n\"We knew it was a longshot. Whose head did you bite off?\" Jerry asked.\n\n\"Some techy guy in the local lab. Why Nate didn't send it off to Quantico, I'll never know.\"\n\n\"Are you finally ready to admit that Jimmy knows what he's doing?\"\n\n\"He's gotta be better than these yahoos.\" Dylan scowled. He knew that he'd overreacted, and he also knew why. It was obvious from the kiss he walked in on, and from the private confab in the bedroom, that Jerry and Ethan were more than partners, a situation that he despised. Jerry deserved better than Slick would ever give her, he knew it in his gut.\n\n\"Did Nate call? What's the word on Oscar?\" Ethan asked.\n\n\"They tailed him to a home near the Presidio. Very posh. They're running down the owners now.\" Dylan hated to give Ethan his due, but right was right. \"Looks like you were spot on about him staying in a friend's house; the owners of record are James and Ellen Forrester; an elderly couple with a penchant for travel.\"\n\nEthan acknowledged the compliment with a nod. \"What about the cars? Did the agents see the Mas?\"\n\n\"No. The home has a three car garage with separate openings for each bay. We do know that the Mas is not registered to the home, but the blue sedan is. There's also a Prius registered to the owners. We can only assume that it's parked in the third bay.\"\n\n\"Nate's arranging for tracking devices to be placed on all of the cars, I presume.\" Jerry dropped down in a chair across from Dylan.\n\n\"Of course. As soon as we get a court order for the security code, we can go in overnight.\"\n\nEthan busied himself with replacing the cushions that broke his fall, back on the furniture. \"I hope the agents tagging the cars are more competent than the fingerprint tech.\"\n\n\"I'll handle it myself. There's no room for error on this one.\" Dylan assured him, just as his phone rang. He retrieved it from the other end of the sofa by the second ring. \"It's Kim.\" He told them and placed the phone on speaker.\n\n\"Dylan Dawes.\" He sounded very professional.\n\n\"Agent Dawes? This is Kim, Sonja's friend.\" Kim choked up on the word 'Sonja.'\n\n\"Yes, Kim. What can I do for you?\"\n\n\"I was hoping you hadn't already told Randall about Oscar. Sonja wouldn't want him to know.\" Her voice caught on a sob.\n\n\"I understand, Kim, but I'm not sure how we can avoid telling him. Randall could shed some light on this Oscar, something that could help us catch him.\"\n\n\"I don't know how, Sonja only met Oscar after Randall left town. He couldn't possibly know anything about him.\"\n\n\"There's still the matter of exactly how Oscar knew that Randall was leaving town. Randall may know more than you realize.\" Dylan paused. \"I'm sorry, Kim, but catching this guy is more important than one person's feelings.\" He hated to tell her that Randall already knew about Sonja, and had done everything he could to wash his hands of the whole mess. The man had about as much concern for his dead girlfriend as he would a tree stump in Indiana.\n\n\"Oh, well when you put it that way, I suppose it's more important to catch the guy.\" Kim's voice trailed off.\n\n\"I'll be sure and let him down easy,\" Dylan assured her. \"If you think of anything else that might be helpful, don't hesitate to call.\"\n\n\"I will. Thank you.\" Kim disconnected the call.\n\n\"Poor girl, she actually believes that Randall gives two cents about her friend. The bastard was more concerned with getting her things out of the apartment than he was with how she died.\"\n\n\"Must have another one lined up to take her place.\" Jerry's voice was filled with disgust.\n\n\"That's quite likely.\" Ethan threw her a sympathetic look. \"You brought up a good point, Dawes. How did Casanova know when to target Sonja? Or the other three victims here? Maybe we should focus on finding that connection.\"\n\n\"So far, there doesn't seem to be one. The best we can deduce is that Oscar watches the apartment, follows the boyfriend to discover his identity, and somehow gets his schedule.\"\n\n\"We should show a composite drawing to the men's secretaries. They are the ones who likely make travel arrangements, maybe Oscar got to them somehow.\"\n\n\"Good point.\" Dylan punched a button, and soon Nate's voice came over the speaker.\n\n\"Dawes, what in hell did you say to piss off the lab? I've been putting out fires for the last thirty minutes.\" Nate said by way of a greeting.\n\n\"Sorry, Boss, I guess I lost my temper. But there's no excuse for incompetence.\"\n\n\"There's also no excuse for your behavior. I expect that you'll undo whatever you've done with a dynamite apology. Today.\" Nate's tone brooked no argument.\n\n\"Will do.\" Dylan sighed. \"Believe it or not, that's not the reason I called. Where do we stand on the composite drawing of Casanova? Jerry had the idea to show it to the victim's companion's secretaries. We've hit a dead end on discovering how he determined when the men would be away, maybe he charmed the info out of their assistants.\"\n\n\"Good point. We should have something in about an hour. You can take it with you and do an interview, after you square things with the local lab.\"\n\n\"Yes, sir. I'm on my way.\" Dylan clicked off. \"Well, looks like you two are on your own.\" He said as he stood. \"Don't do anything I wouldn't do.\" He looked pointedly at Jerry.\n\n\"Well, that leaves the field wide open.\" She teased.\n\n\"Very funny,\" Dylan responded, then tossed a sideways scowl at Ethan. \"I'll be in touch, after I speak to the assistants.\"\n\n\"Take your time.\" Ethan told him, then moved to stand next to Jerry.\n\nAs the door closed behind Dylan, Ethan took Jerry's hand and led her to the sofa. \"Now that we're alone, what do you say we get to know each other a little?\" He noticed her slight frown, but also noticed that she quickly covered it with a polite smile. So the lady was reticent to talk about her past, he thought, and felt his curiosity level rise.\n\n\"Sure, we can do that.\" Jerry tried not to sound as uncomfortable as she felt. Something told her that lying to Ethan about her childhood would be next to impossible. It was as if the man could see straight through her. Determined to direct the conversation away from the distant past, she chose to ask him about work. \"You start. Tell me what led you to Interpol.\"\n\nSettling beside her on the sofa, Ethan turned sideways to face her. \"It was a natural fit, really. We traveled so much when I was growing up, that I couldn't imagine settling down in one place, for very long. I've always had an innate sense of justice, starting with Alice McDougal's missing lunch in the second grade.\" He paused, noting how Jerry had relaxed into the story.\n\n\"I take it you solved the case of Alice McDougal's missing lunch?\" Jerry smiled as she pictured a young Ethan, stalwart and serious, as he searched for clues.\n\n\"Absolutely. Turns out that her brother preferred her sandwich over his own.\" Ethan grinned back at her. \"I got a black eye and my first kiss for my troubles. I've been hooked on righting wrongs ever since.\"\n\n\"Did Alice give you the black eye, the kiss, or both?\" Jerry asked, laughing.\n\n\"Young Alice gave me the sweetest kiss, right here,\" Ethan tapped his left cheek, \"after her brother had punched me in the eye. I'll never forget it.\"\n\n\"And look at you today, chasing serial killers around the globe, fighting the good fight.\"\n\n\"That's right. I still get the same rush when we put one away, as I did back in the second grade, only now it's much more satisfying. But I'm sure I don't have to tell you that.\"\n\n\"No, it's amazing, the feeling I get when we take one off the street. You'll probably think I'm crazy, but I always feel a little deflated after we've solved a case. Part of me loves the thrill of the hunt, trying to think like they do, and outsmart them at their own game.\"\n\n\"I get it,\" Ethan nodded. \"If you didn't enjoy that part of the job, you wouldn't be very good at it.\" He glanced at her before asking his next question. \"Seems like the SSCD is a good fit for you, too. How did you find your way there?\"\n\n\"Nothing as exciting as Alice MacDougal's lunch,\" Jerry lied and felt an instant pang of guilt. \"I took a criminal justice course in my first year of college, and loved it. I haven't looked back since.\"\n\n\"I bet your parents were proud.\" Ethan prodded gently. His instincts told him Jerry was avoiding any discussion of something painful in her past.\n\n\"I wouldn't know. I grew up in the foster system.\" She replied curtly.\n\nEthan knew by the way her shoulders tightened that he'd hit a nerve. \"I imagine that was difficult.\" He said softly.\n\nFor some reason, Jerry's pat answers wouldn't come. The sudden need to share everything with Ethan was overwhelming. But why? She'd never told anyone about the horrors she'd endured as a child. There was nothing anyone could do to change it, and she didn't want sympathy. So why did she want, so much, to open up to Ethan?\n\n\"It was,\" she closed her eyes as he took her hand. \"It really was.\"\n\n\"Would you like to talk about it?\" Ethan saw the debate rage across her face. He hoped the desire to share would win; somehow he knew that she needed to talk it through.\n\n\"No, I'd like nothing more than to forget about it.\" Jerry sighed. \"But it's always part of me, deep down.\"\n\n\"Just because something is a part of you, doesn't mean that it defines you.\" Ethan squeezed her hand in support.\n\n\"I know. What doesn't kill us, makes us stronger, and all that.\" Jerry replied, glancing over at the compassion on his face. \"You probably thought I was a crazy person, crying the way I did after the opera.\"\n\n\"You'd be surprised how often I've cried after the opera.\" Ethan told her in all seriousness. \"For some of us, the passion, and the story, and the music, touch a place where old emotions go to hide. It's like ripping a bandage from a bloody wound; first you cry out from the pain, and then the air, and light, help it begin to heal.\"\n\n\"That's exactly how it felt. When Violetta died so young, for some reason, it made me remember my mother, which I haven't done with kindness in a very long time. The tears helped, so did the memories.\" Jerry's smile was tremulous but genuine.\n\n\"Then, I'm glad we went.\" Ethan assured her. \"How old were you when she died?\"\n\n\"Three. As far as I know, I have no other family. At least none that the courts could find. For the first year or so, I waited for her to come and get me, but of course she never did. Then I blamed her for leaving me to those people. I know now that blaming her was a coping mechanism, it was one way I kept my sanity, and got through it.\"\n\nEthan wondered if she knew how much her voice changed when she mentioned 'those people.' His stomach clenched at the awful possibilities that could befall a child in the foster system. \"The point is that you did get through it. Whatever happened back then, you are a strong, amazing woman today.\" He brought her hand to his lips.\n\n\"Thank you.\" Jerry realized he was giving her an out, a way to not speak of the atrocities, unless she wanted to. She appreciated his discretion and was surprised to find that it made her more inclined to talk. \"I've never really told anyone about those years.\" She confessed. \"I've gotten pretty good at blocking out the ugly.\"\n\n\"There's no need to block anything out with me. There's also no need to discuss it. I'm here, and I'm a good listener, but I won't push you to tell me anything you'd prefer to keep to yourself.\"\n\n\"It's not a very pretty story,\" Jerry hedged. \"I couldn't blame you for not wanting to hear it.\"\n\n\"If you want to tell it, I want to hear it.\" Ethan's eyes met hers.\n\nJerry studied his face for a long moment before she began. Turning away from him, she stared out the window on an orange sunset, hovering over the city. She may be ready to talk about it, but she definitely couldn't watch his face as she told him her secrets.\n\n\"I remember very little about the family who took me in, just after my mother died. That time is pretty much a blur, but for the feeling of waiting for her to come get me.\" Jerry cleared her throat. \"The beatings began with the second foster family. Apparently, I was a handful, at least that's what he said, as he brought down the belt.\" She felt Ethan stiffen beside her, but continued on, her voice dropping to a monotone.\n\n\"Not long after the beatings became normal, my foster father began visiting my bedroom at night.\" She had a death grip on Ethan's hand, but she didn't even notice. Ethan did his level best to keep his breathing steady, and not show the vile reaction he felt well up inside of him at her words.\n\n\"I remember that it was the night before my fifth birthday, the first time he raped me. He told me that I was a woman now, and that he had the perfect present.\" Jerry shuddered at the memory, but her voice never wavered.\n\nSilent tears rolled down Ethan's face for the tragic ending of Jerry's innocence. His heart broke for the beautiful little girl, forced to endure such a horrific experience. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and soothe away the memories, but he waited, still and silent, as she continued.\n\n\"After that, he visited me almost every night until my foster mother caught him. I was nearly seven when she sent me back to the state, for placement with another family. By then, daily beatings and nightly rapes were part of my reality. I didn't know any different, I thought everyone lived like that.\" Jerry paused and took a deep breath. \"My next foster family had two teenage sons who also liked little girls. At least the beatings stopped for a while, when I lived there.\" Jerry closed her eyes for a long moment.\n\n\"That's about the gist of it. Different homes, same variation of the same two themes. If it wasn't the father raping me, it was the sons. The funny thing is that, more often than not, it was the women, the moms, who beat me. My looks have always been a curse.\" Jerry stopped and looked at Ethan, touched by the trail of tears that lined his face.\n\n\"You think that your beauty caused those people to treat you that way?\" Ethan's use of Jerry's description of 'those people' did not register. He was solidly on her side, united against any and all who would hurt her. \"You were just a child.\"\n\n\"Obviously, that didn't matter. The males told me I was beautiful, even while they were grunting on top of me, and the women said that I was too beautiful, as they brought down the belt, or the switch, or whatever they had handy.\" Jerry loosened her grip on Ethan's hand, using her free hand to rub her eyes. \"I can't believe I told you all that.\" She let out a deep breath in a long sigh. \"I've never told anyone.\"\n\n\"I'm glad you told me. I understand what drives you to go after the worst of the worst.\" Ethan paused, carefully considering his next words. \"Did you ever go back as an agent, and seek justice for the little girl?\"\n\n\"I haven't been back to Louisiana since I left for college. If I can help it, I'll never go back.\" Jerry shifted her eyes to his. \"There's no amount of justice that could ever equal the brutality I endured. I've already lived through it once, I have no desire to revisit it during a trial. And before you ask, I did contact Louisiana Children's Services, and report the incidents. I'm trusting that they do their job, and remove the families from the foster system.\"\n\nEthan didn't press the issue; Jerry had to live with her past the best way she knew how. If it was best for her to drop it, he'd let it go too.\n\n\"You did what you could.\"\n\n\"I did what I could.\" She agreed and continued. \"Things did get better when I was a teenager. I'd begun running away from every home they placed me in, so they stopped placing me. I lived my last two years as a ward of the state in a group home. School became my one solace; I excelled in all of my classes. College was possible, thanks to scholarships and awards. I applied to the FBI, straight out of college, and was lucky enough to be accepted.\" Jerry sat up straighter, feeling lighter than she had in years.\n\n\"I'd say the FBI are the lucky ones.\" Ethan felt the shadows fade away, and her confidence return.\n\n\"They are.\" Jerry smiled. \"It's a mutual love fest.\"\n\nEthan couldn't believe the radiance he saw on her face. Only moments ago her eyes were blank, and the contours of her profile had been bathed in hard shadows. Now, her eyes were clear and shining, and the air of tension that held her together seemed to melt away. Powerless to resist, he lightly gripped her chin and leaned towards her for a kiss.\n\nJerry didn't stop him, not that she wanted to. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so free. Sharing her story with Ethan had lifted a weight off of her shoulders that she didn't realize was there. Opening up to him allowed her to inch closer to acceptance of her past, and farther away from self-recrimination.\n\nSoft, sweet, and filled with wonder, this kiss held shades of mutual discovery, tender acceptance, and a hint of sorrow for the shattered child left broken in the past.\n\nShades of red-orange turned to midnight blue, as they sat quietly, watching the sunset. Their arms entwined, Jerry's head lay on Ethan's shoulder as they enjoyed the calm, after the emotional upheaval of intense revelation.\nChapter Thirteen\n\nDylan found them cuddled on the sofa staring at the lights of the city when he arrived thirty minutes later. Carrying a bag of Chinese food, a six-pack of beer and a long, white box, he walked in unannounced. The room was dark, but for the glow of a thousand points of light just beyond the window.\n\nInterrupting the air of serenity, he flipped on the first light switch he came to and announced that dinner was served.\n\n\"I thought you guys might appreciate something more down-to-earth tonight, rather than that fancy 5-star stuff you've been forced to eat lately.\" He ignored the still entwined couple and placed dinner on the table.\n\n\"How thoughtful of you,\" Jerry's voice was serene, without a trace of sarcasm.\n\n\"I thought so.\" Dylan glanced over to see that they hadn't yet separated. \"Come and get it while it's hot. I got a little bit of everything.\"\n\nGiving Jerry a quick squeeze, Ethan leaned down to whisper in her ear. \"I don't think he's going to leave until we eat.\"\n\n\"I don't think so either.\" Jerry whispered back, then paused. \"I am a little starved, come to think of it.\"\n\n\"Good, so am I.\" He kissed her lightly on the forehead and released his grip so she could stand.\n\n\"Did you get anything spicy?\" Ethan asked Dylan as he followed Jerry to the table.\n\n\"You tell me,\" Dylan offered up a container with something that made Ethan's eyes water.\n\n\"Smells good,\" Ethan tried not to choke on the fumes.\n\n\"What's that?\" Jerry nodded towards the large shiny box Dylan had dropped by the door.\n\n\"Dunno, the doorman gave it to me to bring up. Said it arrived for Mr. Bennett.\"\n\n\"It's nothing,\" Ethan blushed, not willing to share Jerry's surprise with Dylan. \"Just a little something I picked up today.\"\n\nJerry narrowed her eyes at Ethan suspiciously. She had a feeling that the contents of the box were for her, not Ethan. \"When?\"\n\n\"I'll tell you later.\" Ethan sent her his best 'please drop it' look. \"Did you have any luck with the secretaries?\" He looked at Dylan and tried to change the subject.\n\n\"Assistants. And yes, I did.\" Dylan looked between Jerry and Ethan, then shrugged. Whatever was in the box was not his business. Who cared if Slick bought her a trinket. \"All four remembered an unusual phone call within two weeks of their bosses leaving town. The caller identified himself as a travel coordinator, supposedly with the same major airline that each man was scheduled to fly. Said he was conducting a random security check to confirm the flight dates and flight numbers of the upcoming trips.\"\n\n\"That's not out of the realm of possibility.\" Jerry added as she filled her plate with fried rice.\n\n\"That's what the assistants thought, so they gave the man the information he requested. Being the competent women they are, they made notes as to the man's name and position with the airline; he used the same name for all, Oscar Worth.\" Dylan passed another carton to Ethan. \"Of course we checked with the airlines, none of which have an employee by that name.\"\n\nJerry spooned several pieces of sesame chicken on top of the rice. \"What are the odds that he used his real name?\"\n\n\"Slim to none, I'd say. Though he may have procured the Mas using the same alias. Jimmy's checking on it.\"\n\n\"At least we know how he knew that the men were out of town. Trouble is, I don't have an assistant for him to infiltrate.\"\n\n\"You do now. An agent from the Sacramento office will arrive tomorrow. We've also arranged for office space for your investment business, just around the corner. It's being furnished as we speak.\"\n\n\"Impressive.\" Ethan nodded at Dylan, then looked at Jerry. \"We'll check it out tomorrow.\"\n\n\"That's the plan.\" Dylan told him between bites. \"Chances are, Oscar will want to follow Jerry around a bit tomorrow. We can wait until he shows up, then lead him over.\"\n\n\"Based on his timeline with previous victims, he'll follow Jerry for about two weeks before he makes contact. Courtships take about a week before he moves in for the kill.\" Dylan reached for his second beer.\n\nThree weeks to spend with Ethan, Jerry thought, then felt a pang in her gut that was unrelated to the Chinese food. Such a short time, but she'd take what she could get.\n\nEthan's thoughts were running along the same line as Jerry's. Three weeks to spend with the woman who invaded his every thought before he let some maniac try to kill her. He frowned into his Szechuan shrimp.\n\nIgnorant of the direction of Jerry and Ethan's thoughts, Dylan stiffened as a sudden flash of insight scrolled before his eyes. He saw Jerry sitting on the sofa only a few feet away from the dining table, crying as if her heart would break. He saw himself, awkwardly trying to comfort her without any success. Ethan was nowhere in the picture.\n\nThe flash left him as quickly as it had come, as they always did. Typically, Dylan's clairvoyance referenced images of events as they happened. This one had to be a vision, rare for him, as he knew it had yet to be.\n\nWhat the hell did it mean? he thought. Why was Jerry crying and where was Ethan? Glancing up at the other man, he noticed a scowl on his face that wasn't there before. Jerry was also deep in thought, which left Dylan time to consider the meaning of his flash of insight. Did Ethan get hurt or killed on the mission? From what he'd walked in on earlier, both times, he knew that Jerry was already emotionally invested in Ethan, so his death could elicit a reaction like the one Dylan had just witnessed.\n\nNo, Dylan thought, he didn't die, Slick just left her high and dry after romancing her six ways from Sunday. Dammit, Dylan nearly pounded his fist on the table, I knew it. He glared at Ethan who was ignoring him completely. The son-of-a-bitch does exactly what I knew he would, from the very first time I saw him.\n\n\"Dammit,\" Dylan's tone was menacing.\n\n\"What?\" Jerry and Ethan asked together, both jolted from their reveries.\n\n\"Nothing.\" Dylan growled, not willing to tell Jerry about his gift, even if it meant saving her from herself. She was already head over heels for the man anyway, he reasoned, the damage was already done. Nothing he could say now would make a difference.\n\n\"It had to be something, you sounded madder than an old wet hen\" Jerry smiled at him.\n\nDylan rolled his eyes at the analogy. \"Thanks, but it's nothing. Just something I forgot to do. How's the sesame chicken?\" He tried to change the subject.\n\n\"It's delicious. How's the hot stuff?\" Jerry wrinkled her nose at the aroma coming from both Ethan and Dylan's plates.\n\n\"Good.\" Both men answered her at the same time.\n\nThey made small talk for the remainder of the meal. Dylan tried his best to be civil to Ethan, but it was challenging.\n\nEthan found no rest on the usually comfortable sofa bed, but he knew the fault lied with his thoughts, not the mattress. Jerry's revelations had thrown him for a major loop. He knew that his anger would not help her, so he squashed the instinct to find and throttle every man who had ever laid hands on the child she had once been.\n\nThe flip side of his gut reaction to her childhood pain was an overwhelming sense of wonder that she had shared such deep, personal trauma with him. That she trusted him enough to open up about such horrendous memories, to speak of secrets that she'd kept buried for so long with him, a man she barely knew.\n\nBut they did know each other, he reasoned. In ways that defied reason, their souls had connected on a level neither could have predicted. Admitting that he loved her was easier than he'd ever thought it would be. As irrational as it seemed, he felt as if she had always been a part of him. He knew without a doubt that he would do anything necessary to protect her, from now on.\n\nHe smiled at the memory of her delight when he finally gave her the green dress. He could tell by the reverent way she'd held the dress to her that she'd never owned anything so lovely or so dear. It took him nearly an hour to convince her that it was hers; that he'd bought it, not the agency and that he insisted she keep it. Stubborn as she was, the desire to own the fabric art won out over any argument she managed to find. He looked forward to spoiling her again and again.\n\nJerry found sleep came easier than she could ever remember. Thoughts of nestling close to Ethan as they watched the sunset over the city warmed her right down to her toes. She still had trouble believing that she'd told him about her past, but she couldn't deny the stillness that sharing her story had left in her soul. Finally, she felt a healing begin that was long overdue.\n\nSighing, she thought of the silky green work of art now hanging on the back of her closet door. Who did anything as thoughtful as to buy something that expensive just because he liked the way she looked in it? Ethan did and it amazed as much as it delighted her.\n\nAs she drifted off, she thought of Ethan lying in the next room, and wondered how wonderful it would feel to have his arms around her all night long. Soon, she promised, soon.\n\n\"Nice office,\" Ethan commented as Dylan opened the door to him and Jerry. \"It's an impressive setup.\" Trailing his fingers along the shiny mahogany desk, he turned to admire the view of the city.\n\n\"It'll do. Were you two followed?\" Dylan noted Jerry's serene expression and felt his anger towards Ethan rise up.\n\n\"Yes, we would have been here sooner, but Oscar only just arrived.\" Jerry answered. \"Did you place the tracking devices on his cars last night?\"\n\n\"Piece of cake. The Mas was in the garage, along with the blue sedan and the homeowner's Prius. We tagged all three.\"\n\n\"Well done.\" Ethan nodded. \"He won't get away from us again.\"\n\n\"And we'll know it if he's romancing anyone else.\" Jerry added.\n\n\"Absolutely,\" Dylan told her. \"We've also kept a tail on him, they change every three hours so he won't recognize the cars.\"\n\n\"Do we have a photo yet?\" Ethan asked.\n\n\"Working on it. The only way to get a clear shot is through the front window; all of the others are too heavily tinted. Two local agents dressed as tourists will be sightseeing around his vehicle shortly, they should be able to take pictures from several angles.\"\n\n\"Sounds good.\" Ethan told him. \"When is my assistant due to arrive?\"\n\n\"Any time now,\" Dylan offered, just as a short, pixie-like woman breezed through the door like a tiny whirlwind.\n\n\"Agent Dawes?\" She marched straight to Dylan and stuck out her hand. \"Agent Reed, pleased to meet you.\" She shook his hand briefly, then turned to Ethan. \"You must be my boss, Ethan Bennett. A pleasure.\" She pumped his outstretched hand with the grip of a bulldog.\n\n\"The pleasure's all mine, I'm sure.\" Ethan remarked, but she'd already moved on.\n\n\"And you must be Jerry. Delighted.\" She took Jerry's hand with the same grip. \"Is this my desk? Seems to be missing a few things.\" Moving away from Jerry, she plopped her bag on the desk. \"No worries, I'll have us set up in no time.\"\n\nDylan found his voice just as she took a breath. \"I'm glad you could join us, Agent Reed. We'll see to it that you have whatever you need.\"\n\n\"Call me Janice. I know my job is to channel information to the unsub when and if he makes contact, but I intend to be of more use in the meantime.\" Janice donned a pair of wire-rim glasses before looking up at Dylan. \"My skills of observation are excellent, deciphering coded reports is another strong suit and my powers of deduction are above reproach. Use me, Agent Dawes, in any way you see fit.\" Slowly, she slid the glasses down her nose, peering at him over the wire rims.\n\nDylan nearly choked on his tongue at her obvious double meaning. \"Um, call me Dylan. I appreciate your willingness to help, Janice. If anything comes up, I'll let you know.\"\n\nJerry guffawed loudly before she caught herself. Ethan hid his laughter more discreetly.\n\nRecovering, Jerry glanced at her watch. \"I should leave soon for yoga. Ethan, you're staying here?\"\n\n\"Yes. Ethan needs to cement his 'working' cover.\" Dylan answered for him. \"Go about your day, as planned. Yoga, lunch, shopping, whatever you girls do,\" Dylan winked at her, \"Ethan's driver will bring him home later.\"\n\n\"I guess that answers your question,\" Ethan moved to take Jerry's arm and walk her out. \"I'll be right back.\" He glanced briefly at Dylan and Janice.\n\n\"Janice, it was nice meeting you. Dylan, I'm sure I'll see you later.\" Jerry added before leaving the room.\n\n\"What's up with those two?\" Janice asked as soon as the office door closed.\n\n\"What do you mean?\" Dylan hedged.\n\n\"It's as plain as the nose on your face, they're involved. Do you know how many rules that breaks?\"\n\n\"They're just maintaining their covers. No rules have been broken.\" Dylan lied to her face.\n\n\"Humph. If you say so.\" Janice rolled her eyes. \"No skin off my back, but it could make things tricky down the road. This unsub is a crafty bastard, Jerry needs to keep her head in the game.\" Janice noted the thunderclouds cross Dylan's face and decided to back off. \"Just saying,\" she spread her arms and dropped the subject.\n\n\"Jerry's a professional, she'll be fine.\" Dylan assured her, even though he was also concerned. One tiny distraction could derail the mission and worse, leave Jerry open for trouble. Barnes was much more than a tiny distraction.\n\n\"Okay, love, have a wonderful day.\" Ethan made a show of kissing Jerry goodbye at the limo. Jerry didn't have to pretend to swoon.\n\n\"You too, darling. Don't work too hard.\" She pretend pouted, then stepped into the car.\n\nThe man called Oscar watched the interplay carefully. He was parked close enough to hear their exchange through his open window, even with the noise of the city blending around him.\n\n\"Okay, love\" he quietly mimicked Ethan's tone, his British accent only slightly different from the Australian influences he recognized in the other man.\n\nAs Ethan watched Jerry ride away, Oscar briefly contemplated following the man rather than his new love. He'd need to find out more about him sooner rather than later, but the pull to be near Jerry won out. He'd explore the man's office another day. Now that he knew the building, it would be child's play.\n\nHe completely ignored the two tourists snapping pictures near his car. They could bloody well get out of the way, or he wouldn't be responsible for running them down.\n\nHe followed Jerry to yoga, to a familiar café where she lunched alone and then back to her condo. He heard her tell the driver to wait, that she'd be back down shortly. Oscar reclined his seat back slightly and waited with the patience of Job, imagining the times they would soon share together.\n\nJerry felt the unsub's eyes on her each time she walked to and from the car. Maintaining a happy-go-lucky countenance when she felt like a thousand roaches were crawling over her skin was an Oscar-worthy performance. Pun intended, she thought.\n\nBy the time she returned from visiting several boutiques around Union Square, it was nearly four o'clock. She and Ethan had dinner reservations at some swanky hotel for seven, so she had time for a leisurely bath before he came home. She hoped.\n\nThe condo was empty and she wasted no time in filling the oversized tub with nearly hot water and lavender scented bubbles. For good measure, she lit the candles that lined the ledge and poured a generous amount of wine into a goblet designed for water. She really didn't care. She may as well enjoy as many perks as possible of the lifestyle afforded by this new assignment.\n\nPiling her hair on top of her head, she stepped into every woman's dream of a relaxing moment and sighed. Soon, her body was slick from the lavender suds and her eyes were heavy from the strain of the day. Leaning back against the tub pillow, she sipped wine and closed her eyes.\n\nEthan noticed Oscar's car as soon as his own turned the corner. He also spotted the surveillance vehicle easier than he should have. He made a note to tell Dylan to use something other than a black SUV to tail Oscar; it screamed FBI.\n\nHe'd spent the day in close quarters with Dylan and Janice, going over various details about the operation and how they could keep Janice occupied as she waited for Oscar's call.\n\nThe agents posing as tourists had taken several clear shots of Oscar's face. Eerily similar to the composite drawing, the man's face was currently being run through ViCAP as well as other U.S. and international criminal databases, passport databases and anything else the Homeland Security Division had up their sleeve. Dylan had been confident they would learn the man's true identity in a matter of hours.\n\nThinking of Dylan brought a scowl to Ethan's face. \"I'd sure like to know what put him in such a foul mood.\" Ethan mumbled. It was no secret that whatever had put the burr on his butt was directly related to Ethan. Aside from the scene Dylan walked in on yesterday when he and Jerry were kissing, Ethan could think of no good reason for the man's surly attitude.\n\nShrugging it off, he practically leapt from the car and walked briskly into the building.\n\nThe condo was quiet, too quiet, Ethan thought as he closed the door carefully. Maybe Jerry was taking a nap, though that seemed out of character. Silently, he walked to the bedroom door and peeked inside. No Jerry.\n\nThe bathroom door was open and scents of steamy lavender wafted towards him. \"Ahh,\" he whispered, \"she's having a bath.\" Much too tempted to join her, he backed out of the room and gave her the privacy she deserved.\n\n\"You're home,\" Jerry, relaxed and feeling pampered, entered the living area wrapped in a plush terry-cloth robe and little else. A thick towel piled high on her head concealed her long, caramel tresses.\n\n\"I'm home.\" Once again Ethan marveled at how beautiful she looked, wrapped up like a mummy with no make-up whatsoever.\n\n\"How did it go today?\" Jerry joined him at the table, cracking open a bottle of tepid water as she did so.\n\n\"Good, we've got Janice compiling background similarities on the cases in Europe and here, just in case we missed anything. The agents posing as tourists managed to get several good shots of the unsub; Dylan's running them through every database known to man as we speak.\"\n\n\"Great. With any luck, he'll have some sort of record. Profiling works, but give me good ole, undeniable facts any day.\"\n\n\"Agreed.\" Ethan had the strongest urge to reach over and remove the towel just for the pleasure of watching her hair cascade over her shoulders.\n\n\"I take it he's still outside?\" Jerry asked.\n\n\"Yes, just sitting there, oblivious to the agents in the SUV behind him. It still amazes me how you people think you're undercover in those tanks.\" Ethan shook his head.\n\n\"We don't always use the 'tanks', as you call them.\" Jerry wrinkled her nose. \"Sometimes we use crown vics or souped-up mustangs or non-descript sedans as surveillance vehicles.\"\n\n\"I'm sure they're equally effective,\" Ethan teased. \"As long as the unsub doesn't make the tail, it really doesn't matter what kind of car they use.\"\n\n\"Exactly. The last thing we need is for him to know that we're onto him, not when we're this close.\"\n\n\"If he stays true-to-form, we're on auto pilot for the next two weeks or so. As long as we stay visible so he can follow you around, we can treat this time like a vacation.\" Ethan reached over and covered her hand with his.\n\n\"I've never treated an assignment like a vacation before, but I suppose you're right. It's our job to go out and about. We're supposed to be a couple, so why not enjoy it?\" Jerry turned her palm up to meet his.\n\n\"I'm game if you are. Now that Dylan has Janice to keep him busy, maybe he'll stay away from here.\"\n\nJerry laughed. \"Don't count on it. As long as Dylan can get in here without being seen, he'll be here. For some reason, he's decided not to like you.\" Jerry's comment surprised Ethan; he didn't know she was aware of the issues between him and her sullen partner. \"He thinks you'll hurt me.\" Her eyes met his in a silent question.\n\n\"I've no intentions of hurting you.\" Ethan said somberly. \"That particular power lies in your hands.\"\n\n\"Then we're both safe.\" Jerry assured him with a gentle squeeze.\nChapter Fourteen\n\n\"Tell me that child is not going to eat the whole bucket of doughnuts.\" Jerry laughed, nodding discreetly towards a little boy carrying a bucket of pastries that looked half as large as his body.\n\n\"I wouldn't want to be on clean-up duty tonight, if he does.\" Ethan laughed as they strolled along Pier 39 with what seemed like every other tourist in San Francisco, as well as the greater bay area.\n\n\"There's another sign, this way to the sea lions.\" Jerry grabbed his hand and pulled him along behind her with the same enthusiasm she'd shown for every touristy thing they'd done together. Her excitement was both childlike and infectious; Ethan was completely charmed.\n\nThe past few days together felt as if they were truly a couple, on vacation in one of the most exciting cities in the world. They'd swum the streets of Chinatown, amid waves of other bodies seeking to experience an iconic bit of the old city. They visited Alcatraz, which held special interest for them both; climbed Coit Tower for a unique glimpse of a truly breathtaking landscape, and now they meandered past the clapboard storefronts lining Pier 39, on their way to visit the sea lions. Jerry's idea, not his. He'd had his share of people after the Chinatown visit, and would have much preferred spending private time with her.\n\nEach time they ventured out, be it for a romantic dinner or a crowded day trip with bodies jostling them on every side, Casanova, whose identity still remained a mystery, much to everyone's consternation, was not far behind. Keeping track of him in the swarming hordes proved to be challenging for the agents charged with watching his every move, but they hadn't lost him yet.\n\nThe crowds fell behind as they rounded the section of Pier 39 leading to the sea lion observation area. Simple, with less personality than the previous, tourist-geared sections of the Pier, the railings standing between the wood boards and the rocks below provided room to stand and watch the comical animals, as they sunned and swam and cavorted without a care for their enthralled audience.\n\nJerry skipped the final few feet to the rail, still pulling Ethan behind her.\n\n\"Oooh, look, there's a momma and a baby.\" She pointed to the sleeping pair, then ran the last few steps.\n\n\"Lovely\" Ethan answered, but his gaze had not left her shining face.\n\n~~~\n\n\"What in the name of all that's holy are they doing?\" The man known as Oscar pulled a silk handkerchief from his pocket and gently touched it to his brow. He'd had his fill of the unwashed masses during the last few days, and briefly considered looking for new prey.\n\nThe thought didn't last long, for the woman he followed looked more like his beloved Beth than any of the others before her. It wasn't simply the way she looked that triggered Beth's memory, it was the way her body flowed from stillness, and the slight tingle he felt in the air, whenever she was around.\n\nThe past few days had made him even more certain that she was the one for him. Watching her unwavering delight in every new experience made him eager to share time with her. He longed for those lovely blue eyes to gaze into his with the same look of love she gave Bennett. Perhaps this one would finally fulfill his quest for peace; her death would be the one to resolve Beth's betrayal and ultimate punishment.\n\nCareful to sidestep an upended ice cream cone, he glanced around him with disgust. What was Bennett thinking, bringing a woman of Jerry's caliber to such germ-infested places? She deserved to be coddled, treated like the princess she was, not thrown into a mix of God knows what.\n\nHis initial research on Bennett indicated that the man was a worthy adversary, unlike some of the other men whose women he'd previously enticed away. Their backgrounds were similar; Bennett had also grown up in a wealthy English family, old money, as it was often referred. As such, both men were accustomed to the finer things in life and enjoyed a level of taste that these Americans could only dream about.\n\nUnlike Bennett, the man called Oscar did not consider it necessary to expand his birthright; he was perfectly content to live off of the trust fund that his great-great grandfather had secured on his behalf. As far as he could see, the trust would supply a never-ending stream of capital that he would be pressed to spend in several lifetimes.\n\nYet, here he stood, on a wooden platform surrounded by people he considered so far beneath him that they were no more than specks of dirt on his custom Gucci loafers. He longed for a deep soak in the Forrester's spa, accompanied by a soothing cup of Earl Gray. Promising himself that he would satisfy his desires soon, he walked past the attractive couple, still admiring the obnoxious creatures that reeked of a fishy sea. Shuddering with disgust, he nevertheless found a spot at the railing, just a few feet from the beautiful Jerry.\n\n~~~\n\nEthan stiffened when he noted the unsub position himself only steps away from Jerry. Slipping his arm around her, he leaned down to whisper in her ear.\n\n\"Do you see him?\"\n\n\"Of course,\" she smiled up at him as if they shared a delicious secret.\n\n\"Stay close. I don't know what he's up to.\" Ethan's whisper was laced with concern.\n\n\"I'm not going anywhere.\" She assured him. \"But he's probably just admiring the sea lions.\"\n\n\"Yeah, right. I'm sure that's what he's doing.\" Ethan snarled in her ear.\n\nJerry gave him a quick jab in the ribs with her elbow.\n\n\"Hey, what was that for?\" He stood even closer to her, wrapping one arm around her waist.\n\n\"Just felt like it,\" she grinned at him. \"I know you're hyper-vigilant, but I'm having such a wonderful time that he can't spoil it for me. Neither can you.\" She tipped her sunglasses down and looked him in the eyes.\n\n\"I wouldn't dream of it.\" He grinned down at her, then looked over towards Casanova. The man was looking out to sea as if he hadn't a care in the world. \"He's a cheeky bastard,\" Ethan commented. \"I'll say that for him.\"\n\n\"Stop watching him. He'll get suspicious. Look at those adorable sea lions, playing in the surf.\"\n\n\"I'd rather watch you,\" He dropped a kiss on her upturned lips, something he was quite fond of doing lately.\n\n\"I have to say, you play the adoring companion to the hilt.\" Jerry leaned her head on his shoulder.\n\n\"Who's playing?\"\n\n\"Not me.\"\n\n\"Not me.\" Tilting her chin, he leaned in for a deeper kiss, one that she felt all the way to her toes. Clutching his shirt with her fists, she molded against him for a brief second before pulling away.\n\nThe kisses had become more frequent, and more arduous. Jerry couldn't tell if they were real or part of the game. The way she felt about Ethan had nothing to do with an assignment, and everything to do with a growing passion, and soul-deep emotion. She thought he felt the same. He often mentioned that he had true feelings for her and he certainly acted as if he did, but part of her couldn't believe that it was real. No matter how much her brain insisted otherwise, part of her heart would always belong to the shattered little girl, unworthy of love.\n\n\"Did you want to walk over to Fisherman's Wharf today?\" Ethan hoped she would decline, but he could tell by the light in her eyes that she was eager.\n\n\"Sure, I'd love to. I'm not very fond of the crowds either,\" she looked at him sympathetically, \"but it just seems wrong to get this close, and not visit such an iconic San Francisco landmark.\"\n\n\"I can handle the crowds, and at least we can say we've been.\" Ethan agreed.\n\n\"Definitely. And we can go to the Farmer's Market in the Ferry building tomorrow; I think it's only open on Saturdays.\" Jerry linked her arm through his as they walked back the way they'd come.\n\n\"You're taking being a tourist seriously,\" he smiled and placed one hand over hers.\n\n\"You bet I am. I've never had an assignment where I've been so pampered, _and_ with an opportunity to explore such an exciting place. I intend to take full advantage.\" She naturally moved a little closer to him as the crowd became denser. \"Usually, we're staying at cheap motels and eating at out of the way diners. The only exploring we do is to follow whatever clues the serial du jour leaves us.\"\n\n\"It seems strange, an entire FBI unit dedicated to tracking serial killers. The general public probably has no idea how many of them are operating in this country alone.\"\n\n\"I know. So many serials flew under the radar before interstate, and now international, agencies began working together.\" Jerry kept her voice low, just as Ethan had done. Without looking back, they knew that Casanova meandered along behind them. They both could feel his presence.\n\nEvery step they took towards Fisherman's Wharf took them deeper into the throng of tourists. Languages from every part of the world swirled around them, adding a special flavor to an already mixed bag of cultures.\n\n\"Are you hungry? I hear there's a bakery somewhere around here that's famous for its bread shapes. We could check them out.\" Ethan looked hopeful.\n\n\"Sure, I could always eat. I think you mean Bowden's.\" Jerry stopped talking, and tried not to react, as a street performer, dressed like a bush, jumped out at them from the left.\n\n\"That's supposed to be art?\" Ethan asked as they moved beyond the intrusion.\n\n\"To each his own, I suppose.\" Jerry stepped around another street performer, standing in the center of the walkway, impressing a group of children with magic tricks.\n\n\"This place is a zoo.\" She felt more than a little claustrophobic from the pressing crowd. \"There's the bakery, let's get off the street.\"\n\n\"Yes, please.\" Ethan maneuvered their way through the crowd to the bakery's entrance. The line outside the door told them it would be a long wait for a snack.\n\n\"How hungry are you?\" Jerry asked, hoping he would say 'not very.'\n\n\"Not hungry enough to wait in that line. I think I can live without funny shaped bread. What say we get out of here and find a nice, quiet café somewhere?\"\n\n\"You're speaking my language. This is ridiculous.\" Jerry stayed behind him as he made way through the hordes to the waiting car.\n\n~~~\n\n\"Now what are they doing?\" Oscar wondered aloud, as he tried not to lose them in the crowd.\n\nSoon, he watched as the black town car slid to a stop beside the couple. \"Bloody hell, they're leaving. It's about time.\" Sprinting towards his own car, he failed to notice the two tourists behind him who did the same.\n\n~~~\n\n\"Why can't we arrest him? Get him off the street, now? This operation is costing the city a fortune, let's wrap it up.\" The mayor's impatience read clearly through the phone line.\n\n\"We could do that,\" Nate said smoothly, \"but we'd have to let him go after the forty-eight hour hold is up. We have no proof, nothing that will stick in court anyway. At this point, we need to catch him in the act.\"\n\n\"But he's been following two agents around the city for days. He must be breaking some kind of law,\" the mayor grumbled.\n\n\"Do you want him for jaywalking, or multiple murders?\" Nate's patience was also wearing thin. \"He's working a timeline, one that will escalate as soon as Ethan leaves town. Or at least when the unsub thinks Ethan leaves.\"\n\n\"Of course I want him for murder. Can't we speed up his timeline?\"\n\n\"I'll see what we can do. Thank you, Mr. Mayor.\" Nate ended the call with a curse. \"Damn bureaucrat,\" he mumbled as he punched in Dylan's number.\n\n\"Dylan, where are Jerry and Ethan right now?\"\n\n\"They were going to the Farmer's Market at the Ferry building. What's up?\"\n\n\"The mayor thinks we're taking too long, he's ready to wrap it up. Is Casanova following them today?\"\n\n\"Hold on, I'll check.\" Dylan called the agent assigned to tail the killer.\n\n\"Yep, he's there. What are you thinking?\"\n\n\"Tell Ethan and Jerry to stage a fight, publicly, so Casanova can overhear. The gist of it is that Jerry is not happy that Ethan's leaving town without her.\"\n\n\"Got it. If our theory holds true, the killer will contact Ethan's office for information later today.\"\n\n\"Exactly. Be ready. Let's just hope that fast-forwarding the timeline won't throw him off his game.\"\n\n\"From the way he salivates when he looks at Jerry, I don't think we need to worry about that.\" Dylan glanced down at the surveillance photos lying on his desk. \"What's the word on his identity? Has Homeland Security made any progress? It's flippin' hard to believe that they can't make him, given the toys at their disposal.\"\n\n\"No word yet. We know he didn't fly into the states; they keep international passport entries on file indefinitely. Our best guess is that he drove down from Canada, maybe greased a palm or two to cross the border, or came in as a passenger on a friend's yacht. Getting into the country is not as easy as it used to be, but you know as well as I do that money can make it easier.\"\n\n\"Apparently, this cat's got money out the wazoo,\" Dylan remarked dryly. \"Shouldn't be a problem for him.\"\n\n\"No. And if he hasn't been arrested for anything before, his face won't be in the system.\"\n\n\"He must have a passport, and we know he's British. No luck there?\"\n\n\"None. Money also buys plastic surgery. A few alterations and the facial recognition software won't make a match. Everyone's cooperating, but this guy may as well be a ghost.\"\n\n\"A ghost whose time is running out.\" Dylan added. \"I'll start the ball rolling with Ethan and Jerry, call you when Casanova makes contact.\"\n\n\"Good deal.\"\n\n~~~\n\n\"You never take me anywhere.\" Jerry raised her voice as she stopped in the middle of the market. Placing both hands on her hips, she turned to face Ethan.\n\n\"I'm sorry, love, but this trip came up suddenly and you'd be bored stiff. I'll only be gone for about a week.\" Ethan tried to soothe her, but made sure that his voice was raised slightly as well. Pointed looks from the people passing them by, told him they were making a spectacle. Good.\n\n\"A whole week? What am I gonna do without you for a whole week? You do this to me all the time, Ethan Bennett. Once, just once, I'd like to go with you on one of these mysterious business trips.\"\n\n\"Now, honey, don't be upset. I'll take you with me next time, I promise.\"\n\n\"That's what you always say. Next time. Maybe there won't be a next time. Maybe I won't be here when you get back.\" Jerry flipped her hair and turned away from him, noting from the corner of her eye that they had Casanova's undivided attention.\n\n\"Oh, sweetness, don't be that way. You'll hardly know I'm gone.\" Ethan stood behind her, rubbing her shoulders. \"I'll bring you back something special,\" he offered.\n\n\"Like what?\" Jerry's pouty face lifted slightly.\n\n\"Ummm, something shiny with lots of diamonds.\" Ethan crooned in her ear.\n\n\"That would be nice, but I still don't like you leaving me all the time.\" Jerry turned back around to face Ethan, amused by the twinkle in his eyes.\n\n\"Baby, you know I hate being away from you, too, but it can't be helped.\" Ethan placed his arm around her and led her to another booth. \"Let's stay in tonight, make a special dinner just the two of us. What do you say?\"\n\n\"You want me to cook?\" Jerry sounded appalled.\n\n\"Of course not, sweetness. We'll select the menu and have a chef come in to prepare the meal.\"\n\n\"Okay, but I'm still mad at you.\"\n\n\"We'll work on that.\"\n\n~~~\n\nSo, Bennett was leaving town. The man known as Oscar abandoned his stalking pursuit of Jerry and Ethan, as soon as he overheard Ethan's plans. There was entirely too much to be done in such a short period of time, but his blood raced at the thoughts of making the lovely Jerry his, sooner rather than later.\n\n\"I have to call Bennett's office, confirm his itinerary.\" Finding an open seat on a small bench, he jotted down the thought on a note pad.\n\n\"Let's see,\" he began, flipping the pages backwards. \"She always goes to yoga class, then to one of three different cafés. I'll run into her there, offer to buy lunch. Or maybe I can ask for directions, outside of her building.\" He scribbled a few more notes, then looked at his watch. \"I'll have to hurry if I want to get a new car by tomorrow.\" Sighing at the thought of leaving the Mas behind, he brightened at the thoughts of a Lamborghini, or a Porsche. \"Maybe I'll even go American, buy a Corvette.\" He laughed at the thought.\nChapter Fifteen\n\nIt occurred to Jerry on the ride home that tonight would be her last night with Ethan, until the case was solved. Spending every moment together for the past week had been amazing. She was head over heels in love, but part of her still wondered if Ethan felt the same.\n\nLast night, they had talked until the wee hours of the morning, covering everything from the number of kids each one wanted, to the real effects of global warming. He was so easy to talk to, and so pleasant to be around, that she couldn't imagine him not being in her life.\n\nSo far, their physical relationship had not progressed farther than steamy kisses, filled with decadent promise. She couldn't quite put her finger on what was stopping her from taking the next step, but she felt Ethan's reservations as much as she felt her own. It was probably due to the job. Crossing the line to becoming lovers was special and private, not something to remember as part of an assignment.\n\n\"Screw that,\" she whispered aloud, grateful that Ethan was conversing with Rodney, and didn't overhear. What if this is the last opportunity I have to make love with him? She knew a rationalization when she heard one, but this time she didn't care. She loved Ethan and she wanted to show him just how much. Assignment or no assignment.\n\n~~~\n\nEthan's thoughts mirrored Jerry's. The entire time he discussed cricket scores with Rodney, he imagined joining Jerry in the king-size bed, making love with her all night.\n\nAdmitting to himself that he was in love with her had been easier than he expected, but he hadn't yet told her how he felt. Waiting until the case was over, when they could be alone together, with no interruptions from Dylan, Nate, or anyone else, seemed like the best way to handle discussing their future together. But now, a sense of urgency came over him, one that insisted that waiting was out of the question.\n\nGlancing sideways at Jerry, he could see that she was deep in thought. Did she feel the same about him? His heart screamed a resounding YES, but his mind was reticent to agree. Could he really declare his love for a woman he'd known for barely two weeks? Would she think he'd lost his mind?\n\n~~~\n\n\"Yes sir, Mr. Bennett is scheduled to return in two weeks. I'll be happy to make an appointment for you then.\" Janice's voice was clipped and professional.\n\n\"Thank you, but I prefer to call back later. I may not be in town that week. Goodbye.\"\n\nJanice replaced the receiver and smiled up at Dylan. \"Well that was short and sweet.\"\n\n\"He got what he needed, even if he did change his M.O.\" Dylan nodded. \"Did you arrange for Ethan's name to be listed as a passenger on a private flight to Toronto?\"\n\n\"Yes, he's all set to leave in the morning.\" Janice made a note to double check the flight. \"Where will he really be going?\"\n\n\"He'll fly around in circles for a while and then slum it with the rest of us at the motel. Can't take a chance that the doorman, or anyone else in the building, sees him. We don't know how thorough the unsub likes to be when it comes to making sure the companion is out of town.\"\n\n\"Makes sense. So Jerry will be all alone in the condo?\"\n\n\"That's the plan.\"\n\n~~~\n\nThe man called Oscar removed the towel from his hair and admired the deep shade of red he'd selected for his new persona. \"Dusky Auburn,\" he mumbled to his reflection, it fits. Perhaps I'll use it as my new moniker.\" Laughing, he moved into the spacious master bedroom to select his wardrobe and his new identity.\n\n\"Mmmm, who shall I become for sweet Jerry? Elliott, James, Carson...\" he mulled over the names, then smiled at his genius. \"I'll be Elliott Carson James, loyal British subject, man about town.\"\n\nWithin minutes, he was dressed and ready for photos. Shortly thereafter, he opened his encrypted email and sent the images for Elliot Carson James to his forger.\n\nThe phone call to the luxury car dealer went as smoothly as he expected. Purchasing a Lamborghini, with an immediate cash transfer, ensured a level of service few persons enjoyed. Fortunately, he was one of them.\n\nDeciding to enjoy a leisurely lunch as he awaited delivery of Elliott's driver's license and passport, he strolled onto the terrace with his Caesar salad and sparkling water. He never tired of the hilltop view, not that it compared with the views from his villas in Europe, but it would do.\n\nAll in all, he was well pleased with the turn of events. Although he preferred watching the women for more time before he actually made contact, everything was falling into place so well that he knew it must be right.\n\nThinking of Jerry, he felt a longing for her company deep within his soul. It was always this way, when he found someone new. The feelings of love and admiration he had for Beth always resurfaced when he entered a new relationship. As amused as he was by the nickname the European press had given him, 'Casanova Killer', he had to admit there was some truth to it. His feelings for his so called victims were genuine, right up to the time when he slit their throats.\n\nHad he listened to his old psychiatrist, he would have recognized the symptoms of his delusion, would have known that transferring his unrequited feelings for Beth to any other woman was futile, and would never result in the closure he craved.\n\nBut this moment, this special time just before he made contact with someone new, was like a honeymoon period. He could imagine the possibilities, plan the romance and look forward to the joys of a new love.\n\nThoughts of Jerry excited him in ways that he didn't experience with the last few women. They had all fallen at his feet, eager to impress and be impressed, by his obvious charms. No, he sensed that Jerry would be different, more of a challenge, more like his Beth.\n\nHe would let her play it safe, he decided, let her be as coy as she liked. He'd overheard the cad Bennett telling her that he would only be gone for a week, but his secretary clearly stated that the man would be away for two. It gave him more time to romance sweet Jerry, just as she deserved, whether she knew it or not.\n\n~~~\n\n\"I thought you mentioned something about a chef,\" Jerry teased, as she came into the kitchen to find Ethan prepping vegetables.\n\n\"Something wrong with your eyesight? He's here, Chef Barnes, at your service.\" Sticking the butcher knife upright into the cutting board, he took a bow.\n\n\"Ah, you've been keeping secrets. You never mentioned that you could cook.\" Jerry grabbed a slice of cucumber from the board.\n\n\"A man must retain a bit of mystery,\" Ethan grinned at her. \"You'd be amazed at the things I can do.\"\n\nA shiver ran along Jerry's spine; she intended to unearth a few of his hidden talents tonight. \"Promises, promises.\" She chanted, pouring them both a glass of white wine. \"So what's on the menu, Chef Barnes?\"\n\n\"So glad you asked,\" Ethan wiggled his eyebrows. \"Tonight's entre is a specialty of the house, Osso Buco.\"\n\n\"Whoso whatko?\" Jerry asked, perplexed.\n\nEthan laughed. \"It's an Italian dish made with fresh veal and vegetables. Thanks to our fruitful trip to the Farmer's Market this morning, this Osso Buco is also one hundred percent organic.\"\n\n\"Well, we are in Northern California. Anything else would be a sacrilege.\"\n\n\"So true. Care to pull up an apron? You can chop celery.\"\n\n\"Sure, I can probably handle that.\"\n\nThey worked side by side in comfortable silence for a time, each a little lost in their own thoughts. Jerry broke the rhythm of chopping and slicing first.\n\n\"How many people are you planning to feed? This looks like enough for an army.\"\n\n\"Just us, but you'll have leftovers for several days, if you like. I could always take them to Dylan and Nate, they could probably use a good meal.\"\n\n\"It does seem fair, they've been eating diner food for two weeks, while we've been dining in the best restaurants in town.\" Jerry became somber at the thoughts of Ethan leaving their nest in the morning.\n\nHe read her thoughts like a book. \"I don't want to leave, either.\" He said softly. \"The sooner I go, the sooner this can be over, and we can start our lives.\"\n\nIt was the first time either one of them had come out and said that they had a future together. Jerry's head began to spin.\n\n\"Our lives?\" her voice was slightly breathless.\n\nEthan placed the knife on the counter and turned to her.\n\n\"Yes, our lives. I think you know how I feel about you.\"\n\n\"I do?\" Jerry held her breath, hoping to hear the declaration that would make all the difference.\n\n\"I hope you do. I love you, Jerry Forbes. Don't ask me how, or why, or when, just know that I do.\" He took her chin in his hand and kissed her lightly on the lips. \"I hope I'm not alone in this.\"\n\n\"No, you're not alone. I love you, Ethan Barnes, more than I ever thought was possible.\" Throwing her arms around him, she pulled him closer for a soul-wrenching kiss.\n\nEthan crushed her to him, mindless of the knife she still held in one hand. Neither of them paid any attention when it clamored to the floor.\n\n\"How is this possible?\" Jerry asked when they came up for air. \"We've only known each other for such a short time.\"\n\n\"Ever heard of love at first sight?\" he tweaked her nose.\n\n\"Thought it was an old wives tale.\" She laid her head on his shoulder.\n\n\"Apparently not. I knew you were special when you opened the door to me.\"\n\n\"You definitely got my attention then. And every moment since.\"\n\n\"I can't tell you how many times I cursed that sofa bed, how often I very nearly came to you in the middle of the night.\"\n\nJerry squeezed him hard. \"No sofa bed for you tonight, maybe no sleep, either.\" Her throaty voice caused his blood to race.\n\n\"Promises, promises.\" He laughed softly and found her lips again.\n\n~~~\n\n\"That was amazing. What else can you cook?\" Jerry looked at Ethan in admiration.\n\n\"Lots of things. Both my mother and my housekeeper were determined that I should not starve, out on my own. My culinary education began at a young age.\"\n\nJerry dropped her eyes and tried not to remember the education she acquired at the same age.\n\nEthan followed the direction of her thoughts and kept talking. \"What's your kitchen specialty? Or do you cook at all?\"\n\n\"I make a mean chicken noodle soup.\" Jerry neglected to tell him that it was from a can. \"We don't have a lot of downtime, so my culinary expertise is pretty much nonexistent.\" She admitted.\n\n\"I'll teach you. It'll be fun.\" Ethan covered her hand with his.\n\n\"That might be difficult, with you in Europe and me in the states.\" One of them needed to bring up the obvious; Jerry decided that it may as well be her.\n\n\"I'm not sure I can live with that.\" Ethan's tone suddenly became serious. \"Have you ever thought of living abroad?\"\n\n\"No, but it sounds exciting, as long as I have a job.\"\n\n\"I can put a good word in for you with Interpol. They're always looking for talented agents.\"\n\n\"It's a thought, but what about the language barrier? I only speak English.\"\n\n\"That's no problem. Most civilized countries speak English.\" He teased.\n\n\"Have you ever thought about living over here? We have so many alphabet agencies that I'm sure you could land a job with one of them.\"\n\n\"I'm open to that, but I'd love to show you my country, or countries, as it were. First we'll go to Australia, meet the fam. Then I'll take you on an insider's tour of England, Italy, France, Spain and Greece. You'll love it.\" Ethan's eyes were shining.\n\n\"Sounds wonderful, but more than a little time consuming. I do have a few weeks of vacation coming, though.\" Jerry began to share his enthusiasm.\n\n\"See, we're already compromising. After our tour, we'll decide where we'd like to live. I can tell you now, that as long as I'm with you, I'll be happy.\"\n\n\"You always know the right things to say.\" Jerry turned her hand to link her fingers with his.\n\n\"I'm happy you think so. Let's have brandy by the fire.\" Ethan brought her with him as he stood, then led her to the cozy setup he'd arranged earlier.\n\n\"When did you do all this?\" Jerry was surprised by the pillows spread in front of the fire, along with a tray holding two snifters, and a glass decanter filled with warm amber liquid.\n\n\"While you were having a bath. One of the wonderful things about Northern California is the possibility of cool nights, even during the summer. Makes it easy to set the stage for romance.\"\n\n\"Is that what this is, romance?\" Jerry teased.\n\n\"Yes, Ma'am, and a prelude to seduction. How am I doing?\"\n\n\"Let's see, dinner was wonderful, your company was, and continues to be, delightful, and, though I've never had brandy, your thoughtfulness is noted, and appreciated.\" Jerry smiled and accepted the crystal snifter from Ethan. \"But if truth be told, 'you had me at hello,' to paraphrase an old movie.\"\n\nEthan flashed a devastating smile and settled in beside her. \"You've never had brandy? It's high time we change that. Like opera, most people either love it or hate it.\" He held up his glass in the glow of the firelight. \"Swirl your glass, like this. Watch the colors of the liquid flow together.\"\n\nJerry did as he advised, enchanted by the ritual.\n\n\"Now absorb the aroma,\" Ethan held the crystal to his nose and breathed deeply. Jerry followed suit. The heady flavors of the brandy warmed her from the inside out, before she'd even taken a sip.\n\n\"Now taste it.\" Ethan pressed his lips to the glass and tilted, closing his eyes as the amber liquid touched his lips.\n\nJerry felt an instant flush spread from her core to her fingertips. Watching Ethan sip brandy was one of the sexiest things she'd ever seen. Holding her own glass suspended, she gazed at his beautiful face, mesmerized by the moment.\n\nEthan opened his eyes to find Jerry staring at him, pure lust reflected in her eyes. His answering smolder said more than words, as he placed his glass on the table.\n\nWithout taking her first taste, Jerry lowered her snifter to the table, while keeping her eyes locked on his. The space between then was suddenly nonexistent as Ethan gathered her into his arms, and lowered her to the floor.\n\n~~~\n\nJerry woke to the feel of strong muscle beneath her cheek, and strong arms wrapped tightly around her. She'd never felt more relaxed, or cherished, in her life. Moments passed as she recalled the tenderness Ethan showed as he made love to her for the first time. Recalling how his body glowed in the light of the fire as he poised over her, made her tingle all over. She never knew that a man could delay his passion, just to prolong hers, but she'd forever be grateful that Ethan was just such a man. Grateful and determined that turn-about was fair play. He'd made her scream his name in mindless passion, repeatedly, before he gave her what she craved. She intended to return the favor.\n\nWith a sly smile, she remembered the quick fire that took them both off guard, moments after he lay spent inside her for the first time. One clutch, one twist of her body, and he sprang to life again, taking them both over an insatiable cliff with wild abandon.\n\nDesire bloomed fresh once more as Jerry felt every inch of his luscious body sprawled beneath her. Fluttering her lashes, she tickled his chest and slowly ran her hand from his waist to his hip.\n\nEthan moaned and tightened his grip as her fingers closed around him. \"Are you trying to kill me, woman?\" His voice was husky with sleep and desire.\n\n\"Not hardly,\" she whispered and trailed kisses down his torso. \"You don't even have to move, I just want to explore.\" Her lips found their target, already pulsing with need. Ethan shuddered and buried his hands in her hair as she closed her mouth around him.\n\n~~~\n\n\"I don't think I'll ever move again.\" Ethan lay on his back, sweat still glistening over his body. \"You are a heartless vixen, sent to make men powerless.\" His grip tightened around her, belying his words.\n\nJerry laughed, thoroughly satisfied with her revenge. \"That's not what you said a minute ago. As I recall it went something like 'oh.......my.......God....YES!' she raised her voice on the last word, mimicking Ethan's shriek of passion.\n\n\"That wasn't me. I think I blacked out when you started doing that thing with your tongue.\" He teased.\n\n\"Oh, yeah? Well, I guess we need a repeat performance, wouldn't want you to miss anything.\" She began to lower her head again, prompting Ethan to grab her shoulders.\n\n\"Oh, no, you don't, I'll never survive it again, not this soon.\" He drew her up to him for a prolonged kiss.\n\n\"Are you sure you can't move?\" Jerry asked when she could breathe again. \"I'd like to go to the bedroom. It's much softer in there.\"\n\n\"Will you let me sleep?\" Ethan grinned, but his eyes were closed.\n\n\"Probably not.\" She answered promptly.\n\n\"Then yes, I can move.\" Without warning, he rolled over, scooped her up, and carried her off to the bedroom, laughing at her expression of surprise.\nChapter Sixteen\n\n\"I _really_ don't want you to go.\" Jerry buried her face in Ethan's shoulder as they stood at the door.\n\n\"I _really_ don't want to go.\" He told her quietly, stroking a hand over her hair. \"I'm still not comfortable letting you be alone with him.\" His voice turned possessive. \"And I can't stand the thoughts of his hands on you.\"\n\n\"I know. I promise I'll do my best to keep that to a minimum. You know we have to let him think I'm falling for him, but I'll keep it strictly G-rated.\"\n\n\"See that you do.\" Ethan crushed her in a bear hug. \"They'll put me in prison for killing him, just for touching you. Then where will we be?\" He kissed her forehead, trying to lighten the mood.\n\n\"Just know that I'm doing my job. Not only does this creep deserve to pay for what he's already done, but by putting him away, we're saving countless women's lives.\"\n\n\"I'll keep that in mind. Just be careful, please. I can't lose you, now that I've finally found you.\"\n\nJerry felt warm all over at his words. \"I've no intention of losing you either.\"\n\n~~~\n\n\"You look like death warmed over,\" Dylan greeted Ethan, when he came into the local FBI office.\n\n\"Shut-up, Dawes.\" Ethan was in no mood to parry with the other man. As if leaving Jerry wasn't bad enough, the decoy flight he'd taken, just in case Casanova was watching the airstrip, was bumpy and turbulent. To top it off, the ride back to the office from the godforsaken field they'd finally landed in was stop and go. Ethan had had about enough already from this day, he didn't need Dylan making things worse.\n\n\"Rough trip?\" Dylan ignored the storm warnings crossing Ethan's face and rubbed it in.\n\n\"What's happening with Jerry and Casanova?\" Ethan ignored Dylan's taunt.\n\n\"So far, he's followed her to yoga, the café, and back home. He never made contact.\" Dylan frowned. \"He's driving a black Lamborghini, brand new. We haven't had a chance to tag it yet.\"\n\n\"Well, it's a damn good thing he hasn't made contact. What are you people thinking? We have to track him at all times. Jerry's life depends on it.\"\n\nThe vehemence behind Ethan's words surprised Dylan. \"He picked up the car this morning, we'll tag it as soon as he leaves it. You don't have to tell me anything about Jerry's life.\" Dylan got in Ethan's face.\n\n\"Apparently, I do.\" Ethan didn't back down. \"Under no circumstances is she to get into that car with him without tracking being enabled.\" The men were standing toe to toe, practically nose to nose. Dylan read fear, and something else, in the glare of Ethan's eyes.\n\nTaking a step back, Dylan perched on the corner of a desk. \"You really care about her.\" It was a statement, not a question.\n\n\"Hell yes, I care about her. I plan to ...\" He stopped talking before he could tell Dylan that he planned to marry Jerry. Jerry deserved to be the first to hear that.\n\n\"You plan to what?\" Dylan narrowed his eyes.\n\n\"None of your business. I care very much for Jerry, and I don't intend to let your imbecilic moves endanger her life.\"\n\n\"Jerry's been my partner since she joined the agency. Don't you worry about me endangering her life. I'll protect her with my own.\"\n\n\"As long as we're clear.\" Ethan resisted the urge to poke Dylan in the chest. \"Jerry is mine. I'll scrap this assignment before I let any harm come to her.\"\n\nDylan heard the truth in Ethan's words, clear as day. The man was staking his claim with a seriousness that Dylan hadn't believed he was capable of. \"You're in love with her.\" He mumbled, the heat leaving his tone.\n\n\"I'm not discussing that with you.\" Ethan backed off, returning to his chair.\n\nConfused, Dylan didn't pursue the subject. His own thoughts turned to the vision he'd had of Jerry crying her eyes out, and Ethan, nowhere to be seen. If Slick didn't leave her voluntarily, he thought, maybe something happens to him. Dylan began to pace, ignoring Ethan completely. It was possible; love skews a man's instincts, makes him react before he thinks. Dylan knew that all too well.\n\nHe briefly considered insisting that Ethan return to Interpol, but he knew the man wouldn't go. Besides, if he sent him away behind Jerry's back, there'd be hell to pay. It was as obvious as the nose on her face that Jerry was head over heels for Slick. Crap.\n\nThe sound of his cell phone ringing jerked Dylan out of his internal dilemma. \"Dawes,\" he barked, in answer to the ring.\n\n\"He made contact.\" Agent Rhodes, one of the local FBI force charged with monitoring Casanova's movements, barked back.\n\n\"Where?\" Dylan's voice was crisp and no-nonsense.\n\n\"He approached her as she left her building. Seems to be asking for directions.\"\n\nEthan joined Dylan by the window. He could tell by the Dylan's stance that something had happened.\n\n\"Where is Jerry right now?\" Dylan asked.\n\n\"She's standing by her car, talking to Casanova.\"\n\n\"Where is Rodney?\"\n\n\"He's in the car. He got out, but Jerry told him she was fine, to wait while she helped the nice man.\"\n\n\"Sounds like Jerry. Send a visual feed to my phone.\"\n\n\"Will do.\"\n\nWithin seconds, an image of Casanova, leaning casually against Jerry's car, and Jerry, standing comfortably in front of him, filled Dylan's phone screen.\n\n\"Dammit.\" Ethan cursed as he looked over Dylan's shoulder.\n\n\"They're just talking, Rodney's in the car.\"\n\n\"Does she know we haven't got a trace on his car yet?\"\n\n\"Yes, she knows. Chill out, Barnes, or I'll send you back to Europe.\" Dylan threatened.\n\n\"You can try.\" Ethan growled back. \"Why can't we hear anything?\"\n\n\"The agents are too far away. You don't want 'em to be made, do you?\"\n\n\"Why the hell is Rodney in the car? He should be closer.\"\n\n\"Jerry told him to stay put. Look, Barnes, I know how you feel about Jerry, but you're gonna have to accept that she knows what she's doing. You know they'll have to be alone together, behind closed doors, before this thing is through. The sooner you get a grip on that, the better.\"\n\nEthan didn't respond. His focus was totally, and completely, on the phone screen. Jerry looked beautiful, but then she always did. Her body language was relaxed, even a little flirty, exactly the way she should have been playing it.\n\nEthan's eyes shifted to Casanova, resting against the back bumper of the town car, like he hadn't a care in the world. His smile appeared genuine, his hands were in his pockets, and his legs were crossed at the ankles. To a casual observer, he was one hundred percent non-threatening, perhaps even a little charming. Ethan hissed.\n\nAs they watched, Jerry gave him her hand, which he slowly brought to his lips. She smiled and nodded agreement with something, then allowed him to open the car door and assist her inside.\n\n\"Bastard better not get in behind her.\" Ethan mumbled, then watched as Casanova closed the door with a smile, and a wave. His sigh of relief had just escaped when Dylan's phone rang.\n\n\"What's happening, Jerry?\" Dylan placed the call on speaker.\n\n\"We're meeting in an hour for coffee around the corner. He said his name is Elliott Carson James, just arrived from London.\" Dylan was already walking with the phone to his computer.\n\n\"I'll run it, but we already know it's an alias. What else?\"\n\n\"This guy is _smoooooth_ ,\" Jerry exaggerated the word. \"I can understand how so many women fell for him. If I didn't know better, I'd think I'd just met a prince.\"\n\n\"You did,\" Ethan chimed in. \"The prince of darkness.\"\n\nJerry laughed. \"Glad to hear you made it full circle, Ethan.\" Jerry felt a glow just hearing his voice. \"You're right, of course, but I've met a lot of serials, and I can tell you that this one is different. His eyes are bright and engaging, not blank, like the ones we've captured alive in the past.\"\n\n\"How did he approach you?\" Ethan asked.\n\n\"New in town, looking for directions. He also established his wealth right away, made sure I knew that the black Lamborghini was his.\" Jerry paused. \"You know, his need to overcompensate could mean that he's impotent.\"\n\n\"None of his victims showed signs of sexual assault, but we assumed that any sexual relationship he had with them was consensual.\" Dylan turned away from his computer. \"You may be onto something there, Jerry. The flashy cars, the wining and dining, the entire romantic build up to his kills, could indicate impotence.\"\n\n\"Do you think he kills them because he can't have sex?\" Ethan asked, cheered by the possibility that Jerry would not have to make excuses to Casanova for not sleeping with him.\n\n\"It could be frustration, but it could also be a replication.\" Dylan answered. \"The physical similarities between the victims indicate that he's killing the same woman, over and over. If we knew the identity of that woman, we'd know a lot more about our killer.\"\n\n\"Do you think the woman he's repetitively killing is dead, or alive?\" Ethan questioned, warming to their new theory.\n\n\"That depends. If she's his mother, or some other ideal that he's set up on a pedestal, she could still be alive. The repetitive killings indicate his desire to take her life, while emphasizing his inability to do so; i.e. another form of impotence.\" Jerry explained. \"If he's already killed her, something about the murder either did not satisfy him, and he's killing to achieve the gratification he was denied, or her murder was so satisfying that he's repeating it, strictly for the thrill.\"\n\n\"What do you know about the first woman he killed?\" Dylan asked Ethan. \"Something more than what is in the file.\"\n\n\"The first two bodies were discovered months after the actual murders. The rate of decomposition made it difficult to determine which one was killed first. According to the medical reports, both women were killed within days of each other.\"\n\n\"That's the only time that his kills are so close together.\" Jerry offered. \"That's significant, from a profile standpoint, but it fits either scenario of killing to find denied satisfaction, or killing to repeat the thrill.\"\n\n\"We need to take a closer look at those first two women. One of them may hold clues to his identity.\" Dylan looked to Ethan. \"I assume you checked if either woman reported having a stalker, or had been part of an abusive relationship of any kind.\"\n\n\"None of the victims in England, or in Italy, had reported anything of that nature.\" Ethan told him. \"We know how to look for red flags.\"\n\n\"Did you interview friends of the victims; sometimes women don't report stalkers or abuse, for various reasons.\" Jerry chimed in over the phone.\n\nEthan opened his briefcase. \"I came on the case after the third victim was discovered. By the time I interviewed friends and families of the first two victims, months had passed, and no one had anything significant to offer.\" He retrieved several files and began flipping through the pages. \"I do seem to recall an odd coincidence surrounding one of the first two victims. Elizabeth Rogers had a fiancé who was missing at the time her body was discovered. For a time, the police thought he might be responsible for the first two killings, but parts of his body were later discovered in a nearby cave. He was an avid hiker and his death was attributed to a fall, as evidenced by significant depressions to his skull. The fact that only a few body parts remained seemed to fit the scenario, thanks to the high concentration of wild animals in the secluded area where he was found.\" Ethan recapped the case.\n\n\"That's a convenient coincidence, the victim's fiancé being killed within the same time-frame. What if Casanova killed the fiancé, and disposed of the body where he knew animals would take care of the evidence?\" Dylan began to pace.\n\n\"But why? He's hasn't killed any of the other companions. I'll give you that it's a strange coincidence, but how does it fit in with the profile?\"\n\n\"If Elizabeth was his first victim, then she could hold special significance in his life. Killing her fiancé would have been personal, not a standard part of his M.O.\" Jerry answered. \"It was the exception to the rule, the trigger that created the monster, the reason for his need to kill again.\" She took a breath. \"We need to go deeper into Elizabeth Roger's life. Talk to her best friends, her family. Find out everything we can about her relationships, prior to the one with her fiancé, as well as if anyone, or anything, made her uncomfortable near the time of her death.\"\n\n\"I can do that.\" Ethan checked his watch for the time difference. \"It's almost eight p.m. there, not too late to make calls. Jerry, be careful at the café.\"\n\n\"Yes, sir.\" His concern touched her today, whereas it had previously been extremely annoying.\n\n\"We already have agents inside the café; another will add the tracking device to his car while you're inside. To be on the safe side, do not even think of getting into the car with him until we're positive the tracker is working. Make plans for later tonight, or tomorrow, but do not go away with him today.\" Dylan's orders irked her a little, but she didn't let it show.\n\n\"Of course not. Standard procedure.\" She reminded him. \"I'll handle Elliott, you two work on finding out more about Elizabeth. My gut is telling me we're onto something there.\"\n\n\"Mine too. Call us when the meeting's over.\" Dylan told her before disconnecting the call.\n\n~~~\n\n\"I've heard wonderful things about the local symphony, and just happen to have tickets for tomorrow night's performance.\" Elliott walked the perfect line between cool aloofness and smitten suitor. \"Would you care to accompany me?\" His mannerisms did not seem affected, but he'd rehearsed his approach for hours, not wanting to seem too eager, nor too distant, in order to intrigue the beguiling Jerry.\n\n\"The symphony? I've never been, but it could be fun.\" Jerry tossed her hair, not willing to seem too eager.\n\n\"Wonderful.\" Elliott's eyes sparkled with delight, but his demeanor did not change. \"Shall I call for you, around seven, tomorrow evening? We'll have drinks before and dinner afterward, if that suits you.\"\n\n\"I look forward to it,\" Jerry pushed her coffee cup away, indicating that she was ready to leave. \"Have the doorman ring me when you arrive and I'll come down.\"\n\n\"Perfect,\" Elliott rose and extended his hand. Standing, Jerry took it. He brought her fingertips to his lips. \"Until we meet again, sweet Jerry.\"\n\nJerry returned his smile, and even managed to blush, all the while fighting the urge to jerk her hand away.\n\n~~~\n\n\"Elizabeth's sister remembers a man hanging around the gallery, where Elizabeth had a showing of her paintings, in the weeks before she was killed. She said he gave Elizabeth the creeps, but he was a patron, so she tolerated him. There was nothing overt, nothing sinister, just a feeling that he gave her, so there was really nothing to report.\" Ethan told Dylan, just as Jerry phoned in to recap her meeting.\n\n\"Instincts are powerful things; more people should listen to them.\" Dylan remarked.\n\n\"Yeah, but how do you report an instinct?\" Jerry added. \"Did the sister say anything else about the man? If he was a patron, I assume he had money.\"\n\n\"He definitely appeared to be wealthy. The only other thing she said was that the man tried to give Elizabeth a ring, a rather large diamond, in fact, as a tip for helping him select several pieces to hang in his downtown flat. Elizabeth did not accept the diamond.\"\n\n\"I'd say that was significant. Who gives someone a diamond as a tip?\" Dylan scoffed.\n\n\"Someone trying to impress a woman, that's who.\" Jerry told him. \"Did the sister mention this to the cops, after Elizabeth was found murdered?\"\n\n\"No, she said she didn't put it together, until I asked if anyone made Elizabeth uncomfortable around the time of her death.\"\n\n\"I don't suppose the sister knew the man's name?\" Dylan was hopeful.\n\n\"Not his full name, but she said that Elizabeth referred to him as 'Prince Jonathan' in deference to his attitude, not the fact that he was truly a royal.\"\n\n\"If he hadn't killed before, then Jonathan may be his real name. No need for an alias if you haven't done anything wrong.\" Dylan remarked. \"If he made purchases, the gallery should have a record. I'll get Nate on it. Jerry, tell Ethan about your date.\" Dylan handed Ethan the phone. He promptly took it off speaker and pressed it to his ear.\n\n\"So, how are you?\" he asked. \"When are you seeing him again?\"\n\n\"I'm fine, really. He was a perfect gentleman. We're going to the symphony tomorrow night. Drinks first, dinner afterwards.\"\n\nEthan growled low in his throat. \"If he shows up in his car, insist that Rodney drive you.\"\n\nJerry tried to hide her chuckle. \"I know you're still concerned for my safety, but I'll have to be alone with him sometime. We may as well get it started.\"\n\n\"If Nate finds out his true identity, we may have other reasons to arrest him, and this whole exercise will be moot.\" Ethan was grasping at straws.\n\n\"Short of evidence of another murder, we'll still have to go through with it, so we can tie him to the women he killed. Please, let's not have this conversation again.\" Jerry pleaded.\n\n\"I miss you. Can we have that conversation?\" Ethan deftly changed the subject.\n\n\"I miss you, too. We're not still on speaker are we?\"\n\n\"No,\" Ethan chuckled. \"It's just you and me, for the moment. I wish I could see you tonight, wake up with you in the morning.\"\n\n\"I know.\" Jerry sighed. \"To think of all the nights we wasted...\" her voice trailed off.\n\n\"You were playing hard to get.\" Ethan teased.\n\n\"I most certainly was not. You were scared to make a move.\" She teased back.\n\n\"I know, you terrify me.\" Ethan's words held a small ring of truth.\n\n\"If it's any consolation, you terrify me too. But I wouldn't change a thing.\" Jerry assured him.\n\n\"The only thing I would change is this assignment. I want it over so we can start our lives.\" Ethan had his back to the room and didn't hear Dylan walk up behind him.\n\nDylan heard the sincerity in Ethan's words and wondered again about Jerry's tears in his vision of the future.\n\n\"Me, too.\" Jerry leaned against the soft leather and closed her eyes. \"Where are we going first, Australia?\"\n\n\"Definitely. I want you to meet Mum and Pop, though Ella, my housekeeper, will be your toughest sell.\" Ethan grinned into the phone. \"She doesn't think anyone will ever be good enough for me.\"\n\nJerry cringed slightly, his words echoing her deepest fears. \"I'll do my best to win her over.\"\n\nDylan cleared his voice loudly, not willing to hear any more of the lovebird's conversation. \"Nate wants us to meet at the diner for an early dinner. Said to tell you to bring your notes.\"\n\n\"Sure thing.\" Ethan answered him, then spoke to Jerry. \"You heard?\"\n\n\"I heard. I'll think of you boys eating burgers and fries, while I enjoy some of your awesome Osso Buco leftovers.\"\n\n\"You do that. I'll be sure to tell them what they missed. I'll call you later.\"\n\n\"Can't wait.\"\n\n~~~\n\n\"Are you sure you know what you're doing?\" Dylan asked Ethan, when he passed the phone back to him.\n\n\"What do you mean?\" Ethan narrowed his eyes, not willing to discuss his feelings for Jerry.\n\n\"Jerry's a good person, a fine agent, a catch by anyone's standards. What makes you think that you're worthy of her?\"\n\n\"What makes you think I'm not?\" Ethan worked to control his anger.\n\n\"I've known guys like you all my life. Had everything handed to you on a silver platter, didn't you? Women especially. With your money, looks, and attitude, you've probably left a trail of broken hearts all over Europe.\"\n\n\"And you think I'm playing Jerry, the same way I played countless others.\" Ethan was losing the battle to control his anger.\n\n\"Well, aren't you? You plan on sticking around, after we shut down this case? Or are you planning to hightail it back to wherever you came from, leaving Jerry crying in her beer?\"\n\n\"Are you jealous?\" Ethan wanted to make certain that Dylan was acting out of friendly concern, not unrequited feelings.\n\n\"Of course not, idiot. Jerry is my friend. I won't stand by and watch her get hurt, not by you, or anyone else.\"\n\n\"I told you before, I will not hurt Jerry. I love her, dammit, I want to spend the rest of my life proving it to her.\" Ethan stood toe to toe with Dylan, but he still raised his voice. \"Are you satisfied? Is that what you wanted to hear?\"\n\n\"No, it wasn't.\" Dylan stepped back and shook his head. \"I know you'll hurt her, I just don't know how.\" He lowered his voice. \"You say you love her, and God help me, I believe you. But my gut is telling me that you'll end up leaving her anyway.\"\n\n\"When I leave, Jerry is going with me. Tell that to your gut and back the hell off.\" Ethan glared at Dylan before turning away. He'd be damned if he shared anymore of his feelings about Jerry with that imbecile.\nChapter Seventeen\n\n\"The concert was wonderful, thank you for inviting me.\" Jerry spooned caviar onto a toast point.\n\n\"My pleasure, it really was surprisingly good.\" Elliott's voice held a distinct shade of snobbery. \"One doesn't expect such an elegant performance in the states.\"\n\n\"As I've nothing to compare it to, I can't argue. I'm sure you know best.\" Jerry acquiesced.\n\n\"Have you never been to Europe?\" Elliott brushed an imaginary crumb from his sleeve.\n\n\"No,\" Jerry's disgruntled tone did not pair well with her Dior gown. \"Not once.\"\n\nSecretly pleased with her obvious irritation, Elliott's smile was one of understanding. \"Well, that just will not do. Everyone should see the stars over an English country estate, or watch the sunset from a villa in the Oia village, on the island of Santorini in Greece. And Paris, you must walk the streets of Paris during April, smell the cherry blossoms, and feel the charge in the atmosphere.\"\n\n\"It all sounds divine,\" Jerry sighed. \"I've dreamed of traveling abroad, but so far it hasn't worked out.\" She looked appropriately disappointed.\n\n\"Such a shame, we'll have to fix that.\" Elliott took the opportunity to pat her hand and look meaningfully into her eyes. He saw the moment when her interest sparked, when she began thinking of him as someone more than a way to kill time, while her lover was out of town. His plan was progressing perfectly.\n\n\"Yes,\" she gushed, \"we really should.\"\n\nElliott spent the remainder of dinner impressing Jerry with his travels, describing his homes around the world, and dropping names of the rich and famous people, with whom he frequently shared cocktails, dinner and vacations.\n\nJerry's head was spinning with the amount of information Elliott imparted during dinner. If she didn't already know who he was, the picture he painted of his life would impress even the most jaded individual.\n\nThanks to Elizabeth's sister, they now knew that Elliott was actually Jonathan Gerrard, the heir to a British mining fortune, and the definition of a wealthy playboy, living a life of leisure as he flitted between continents, accomplishing nothing more productive than running astounding tabs at the various resorts which caught his fancy.\n\nAccording to Jonathan's estranged father, Jonathan would have been cut out of the family fortune long ago, had it not been for the terms of his grandfather's trust. As it stood, none of Jonathan's family associated with him, partially due to his frivolous lifestyle, and partially due to the mental illness, which he refused to treat.\n\nJonathan's delusional disorder could be managed with a combination of drug and psychiatric therapy, but Jonathan decided long ago that he would handle it on his own.\n\n\"Wouldn't you agree, my dear?\" Jonathan/Elliott's question brought Jerry out of her reverie. He'd been spewing on so long about this party and that event, that she couldn't help but zone out a bit.\n\n\"Of course, Elliott. I agree.\" She smiled as if whatever she'd just agreed with mattered.\n\n\"Wonderful. Then it's a date. We'll visit the art museum in the morning, and the aquarium in the afternoon. You can give your driver the day off; I'll take you wherever you need to go.\" Elliott looked very pleased with himself.\n\n\"That's very kind of you,\" Jerry smiled and hoped the agents, two tables over, had recorded the conversation, so she would know exactly what she'd agreed to.\n\n\"What a fortuitous moment, running into you yesterday. I don't think I've ever met a more delightful companion by merely asking directions.\"\n\n\"Thank you.\" Jerry smiled demurely. \"The feeling is mutual.\"\n\nElliott beamed.\n\n~~~\n\n\"I don't think I've ever had a killer bore me so completely.\" Jerry told Ethan on their nightly phone call.\n\n\"I'm sure a different type of woman would find him fascinating.\" Ethan laughed.\n\n\"Probably, one who decided he was the next meal ticket. The man does have a way of making you feel special, when he's not droning on about his fabulous life.\" Jerry stretched out on the bed, glad to be home and spending time with Ethan.\n\n\"By the way, Dylan asked me to tell you that the court order for Jonathan's psychiatric records came through. We should have copies tomorrow.\"\n\n\"Those should shed some light. Delusional disorders range from thinking the mailman is out to get you, to full blown psychotic events. It would be helpful to know just how crazy he is.\"\n\n\"You're not very politically correct, are you Agent Forbes?\" Ethan chuckled.\n\n\"I call 'em like I see 'em, Inspector Barnes.\"\n\n\"That's Chief Inspector Barnes to you.\"\n\n\"Pardon me, _Chief_ Inspector Barnes.\" Jerry mocked. \"Changing the subject, did you speak to your parents about bringing me over?\"\n\n\"As a matter of fact, I did. Mum is likely still in shock and Pop is already planning your sightseeing tour of Western Australia.\" Ethan grinned as he remembered how excited his parents had been to hear that he was bringing a woman home.\n\n\"Sounds great. I need to put in for my vacation time.\" Jerry said absently, reaching for her cell phone to text Nate. \"What are you thinking, a week or so after we wrap this case? Or longer?\"\n\n\"I have to return to England, complete the paperwork, but you could come with me. We could take a few days, see the sights, then head off to Australia. I really don't want to spend one more night away from you than is absolutely necessary, Agent Forbes.\" Ethan lowered his voice to a seductive whisper.\n\nJerry felt the shiver that always accompanied thoughts of Ethan in her bed. \"I'll put in for a month off, beginning immediately upon the completion of this assignment.\" She typed the same words into her phone, then hit send. \"Done.\"\n\n\"Gotta love technology.\" Ethan stretched out across the double bed that could not contain his length. He looked forward to these nightly chats with Jerry; the intimacy of their conversations allowed them to get to know each other in ways reminiscent of letter writing in decades past.\n\nThey talked of everything and nothing at all, and found that they shared views on religion, or spirituality, but held vastly diverse opinions regarding politics. Ethan still hadn't mentioned that he was technically a royal, nor had he mentioned that his inheritance made Jonathan/Elliott's look like chicken feed. It wasn't that he was intentionally keeping those facts from her, he honestly didn't think they mattered.\n\n\"We're not crazy, are we? Thinking we can have a life together, when we barely know each other.\" It was a question Jerry asked every night, in one form or another. Ethan understood her need for reassurances, and gave them to her freely.\n\n\"No, we're not crazy. We're both old enough to know how we feel, and smart enough to take a chance on a lifetime of happiness when it's staring us in the face. No matter how long since we've met, we know each other's hearts, at least I feel like I know yours, and I've tried to show you mine.\"\n\n\"You do and you have. I'm sorry I keep asking, but these feelings are just so new for me.\"\n\n\"You can ask as often as you like, love, the answers will be the same.\" Ethan said softly.\n\n\"I like it when you call me that.\" Jerry sounded like a little girl, sweet and slightly awestruck.\n\n\"Then I'll always call you love,\" Ethan told her, amazed that such a simple word could mean so much to her.\n\n\"Even when I'm old, and look like a prune?\" Jerry teased.\n\n\"Even then. Remember, I'll be a prune, too.\"\n\n\"Men always age better than women, when you're eighty, you'll still be devastatingly handsome.\"\n\n\"And you'll still be drop-dead gorgeous.\"\n\n\"Flatterer.\"\n\n\"Speak for yourself.\"\n\n\"I think it's time we stopped speaking, have you looked at the clock lately?\" Jerry smiled, knowing that Ethan would talk to her all night, if she wanted.\n\n\"Time doesn't matter.\"\n\n\"Tell that to the bags underneath my eyes tomorrow. I have to be an adoring companion, hanging on his every word, in six hours.\"\n\n\"Lucky bastard.\" Ethan grumbled. \"You know I'm not happy about you getting into the car alone with him.\" He reminded her.\n\nJerry rolled her eyes. \"You've made that quite clear. Do you need another demonstration of my martial arts abilities?\"\n\n\"Once was enough, thanks. I know you can take care of yourself, under normal circumstances, but what if he drugs you, or manages to restrain your hands? There are a million ways this mission could go wrong.\"\n\n\"Even if he does manage to get the upper hand, we have agents tracking, and following, our every move. It will be fine, Ethan. Stop worrying.\"\n\n\"I know I sound like a broken record, but I can't help it. Promise me you'll be extra careful.\"\n\n\"I promise.\" It was another variation of a conversation they had every night.\n\n\"Okay, I suppose that will have to do. Get some rest, love, I'll speak with you tomorrow.\"\n\n\"You too, sweet dreams.\"\n\n~~~\n\n\"You have anything to do with Jerry asking for a month's vacation?\" Dylan greeted Ethan the next morning.\n\n\"Good morning to you, too, Dawes. What if I did?\" Ethan continued to scroll through new text messages as he sipped coffee, effectively ignoring Dylan's foul mood.\n\n\"Jerry never takes a vacation, and you've convinced her to go away with you for a whole month? Where are you taking her?\" In spite of the fact that it was obvious how much Ethan cared for Jerry, Dylan still felt the need to protect her from him, or from herself, he wasn't quite sure which.\n\nEthan met the other man's scowl with a polite smile. \"If you must know, I'm taking her to Australia to meet my parents. Before that, we'll take a jaunt around Europe, hitting the high points.\"\n\n\"And then what?\"\n\n\"That's up to us, is it not?\" Ethan's polite tone became more than a little chilled.\n\nStill concerned with the vision of consoling Jerry, right here in San Francisco, Dylan began to think that maybe something did happen to Ethan, not that he was playing Jerry for a fool. He'd have to keep a close eye on Ethan's activities when this whole thing came to a head. Great, he thought, like I need to babysit Barnes when Jerry is in the most danger.\n\n\"Yeah, that's up to the two of you. But know this, no matter how far away you take her, I can still find you if you hurt her.\"\n\n\"Got it. This is really getting old, Dawes. When are you going to get that I only want the best for Jerry? Is it so hard for you to believe that I might actually be in love with her?\"\n\nDylan was silent for several moments, digesting Ethan's question.\n\n\"No, that's not so hard to believe.\" He finally said, but his thoughts took a different track; then what would make you leave her?\n\n\"Then stop questioning my motives and accept what is.\" Ethan glared at him a moment, then switched gears. \"What's the status of the psychiatric reports?\"\n\n\"We should have them anytime now. One of the bureau's psychiatrists will decipher them, then give us a report.\"\n\n\"\"How long will that take? Jerry will be alone with him in less than two hours.\"\n\n\"It's being fast-tracked, but I can't change FBI protocol. We should have it later today, tomorrow at the latest.\" Dylan didn't like the delay any more than Ethan. \"She won't exactly be alone with him, just for the car ride to the museum, and then to the aquarium.\"\n\n\"That's enough.\"\n\n\"Agreed.\"\n\n~~~\n\n\"Who knew that playing the role of a socialite could be so exhausting? My face is in permanent smile mode, which really hurts my cheeks.\" Jerry complained to Dylan, when she made her afternoon report.\n\n\"Buck up princess, it could be worse. Be grateful that you're not on this side of the fence, hearing Ethan swear every time Jonathan touches you.\" Dylan chuckled and ducked Ethan's attempt to punch him in the arm.\n\n\"Maybe they don't need to follow us around with cameras.\" Jerry offered, half-heartedly.\n\n\"You think he'd be any better if he _couldn't_ see what was happening?\" Dylan laughed again. \"Man's got it bad, Jer.\" This time Ethan's punch landed on the mark.\n\nJerry smiled, glad that Dylan was finally coming around where Ethan was concerned. \"He's not the only one,\" she admitted softly.\n\n\"You think that's news to me? I saw the writing on the wall from day one. Anyway,\" Dylan changed the subject, \"you're doing a great job with Jonathan. If I didn't know better, I'd believe you were falling for the guy.\"\n\n\"Thanks.\" Jerry added wryly. \"He's certainly moving things along. We're having dinner tonight in Sausalito, then he wants to take me to a Giant's game tomorrow. Said he always wanted to experience American baseball.\"\n\n\"Ethan and I may have to tail you on that one, it's time for a change of agents anyway. Thanks to a scheduling snafu, we've had to use the same female agent two times in a row.\"\n\n\"I noticed that, but they were discreet enough that I don't think it was a problem. Jonathan's attitude never changed, so I'm sure he didn't notice.\"\n\n\"Regardless, we'll have a new pair on you tonight.\"\n\n\"Good to know. If there's nothing else, I have to get ready for dinner.\" Jerry's grimace read clearly through the phone.\n\n\"Nope, that's it. I'll call you if we get the psychiatric report before you leave.\"\n\n\"Thanks.\"\n\n~~~\n\nJonathan/Elliott circled Jerry's block to make certain that the car he thought was following him, actually was. Sure enough, the dark blue Ford kept a discreet distance, but it stayed with him, just the same.\n\nHe'd noticed the woman trailing behind them in the aquarium, thought she'd looked familiar. Thinking back, he remembered seeing the same woman in the art museum that morning, but with a different companion.\n\nWhen had he picked up a tail? Who could be following him? He'd been so careful to change his appearance, change his vehicle, so that no one could connect him to any of his activities, since arriving in the states. He'd been careful not to leave evidence at the crime scenes, sure that the bodies' exposure to the elements would remove any trace of him over time. Why were they following him? If they could connect him to his first four conquests, then why didn't they just arrest him?\n\nPerhaps it's a trap, he thought. If they somehow connected him without enough evidence to arrest him, then it stands to reason that they would follow him to try and catch him in the act. Years of therapy taught him that being delusional wasn't necessarily a bad thing. What's the phrase, he thought, then said aloud, laughter edging his voice, \"just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they're not out to get you.\"\n\nRegardless of his mental health issues, someone was definitely following him, that much was clear. After circling the block again, he headed off in the direction of the Bay Bridge. Sure enough, the car stayed with him, even through rush hour traffic.\n\nCertain that he was on the right track, he nabbed the first open parking spot he came across. Street parking was like gold in the city, so he felt confident that this maneuver would complicate his shadow's ability to monitor him.\n\nHe needed time to think, to contemplate his next move. A busy coffee shop on a populated side street seemed the perfect place to formulate a plan. While waiting at the cross walk, he noted, with satisfaction, the dark blue Ford coming down the road again. They could circle the block for days, he thought, he could still elude them if he wanted.\n\nSettled at a corner table with a drink and a biscotti, Jonathan began to compartmentalize the days past, moment by moment. His first concern was if the entity following him knew where he lived. Thinking back to this morning, he tried to visualize the blue Ford on the street outside the house, or following him to collect Jerry. Nothing registered, but that didn't mean the car had not been there.\n\nThinking of Jerry, could she possibly be in on the plan to capture him? Or was she simply an unwitting pawn for some government agency? She was so lovely, so perfect for him, he had trouble imagining her working in some bland, bureaucratic office.\n\nNo, he thought, she had to be an unsuspecting participant in their little capture plan. She would never betray him that way. Still, he had to make a decision about whether or not to continue on his path, or to abandon the budding romance altogether.\n\nThoughts of leaving Jerry before their last adventure together made him physically ill. Just as she would not betray him, he would not betray her. They would have their special time together, he would simply be more careful.\n\nFirst and foremost, he could not let the shadow know that he was onto them. He would go home, get ready for dinner, and take Jerry out as planned. Tomorrow's baseball game would be the perfect place to make the necessary alterations to his own game plan. Smiling, he tipped the waitress and strolled back to his car.\nChapter Eighteen\n\nThe shrill ring of his cell phone brought Ethan out of a dreamless sleep. He'd only just drifted off, having spoken with Jerry for hours after her dinner with Jonathan.\n\n\"What?\" He growled without looking at the screen.\n\n\"Barnes? It's Jamison. You up?\" The gravelly voice of his superior officer brought Ethan fully awake. The man never made contact, unless there was trouble.\n\n\"I am now, sir. What's happening?\" Ethan flipped on the light switch, hoping to shatter the feeling of dread, blossoming in his gut.\n\n\"You alone?\" Jamison was a man of few words.\n\n\"Yes, sir.\"\n\n\"It's the Anson brothers. They've escaped.\"\n\n\"How the hell did that happen? They were locked up tight in the psychiatric ward at Portlaoise.\"\n\n\"Long story. Suffice it to say that they're out, and they're gunning for you.\" Ethan heard the flick of a lighter as Jamison lit a cigar. \"We need you back here, pronto.\"\n\n\"But sir, we're near the end of this case, I'd like to see it through.\" Ethan's mind reeled at the thought of leaving Jerry in the clutches of a madman.\n\n\"The Yanks can wrap that up, you're going deep underground, protective custody, while we figure out where these lunatics will strike next.\"\n\n\"All due respect, sir, do you really think they'll track me to California in the next few days?\"\n\n\"It's a distinct possibility. They've been monitoring your activity for the past year. They know which case you're working. We found pictures of you and that agent, Jerry Forbes, in their cell.\"\n\n\"Jerry? They had pictures of Jerry? How?\"\n\n\"We're working on it. The only people we know that they've been in contact with are the prison guards, and their psychiatric team. Obviously, there's a mole.\"\n\n\"Have they killed since the escape?\"\n\n\"Two prison guards and a taxi driver, so far.\"\n\n\"Dammit. If they left pictures, they want me to know I'm a target.\"\n\n\"The pictures are not all they left behind. Before I tell you the rest, know that we've already placed your family under protective custody.\"\n\n\"My family? How did they make the connection to my family?\" Ethan's voice boomed in the quiet hotel room.\n\n\"The tech department discovered a breach in security last week, but it appeared that no files were accessed. We now know that several personnel files were copied, including yours.\"\n\nEthan's mind raced. He knew he had to leave, but what could he tell Jerry that would keep her safe? The Ansons were the worst of the worst; he had to remove the target from Jerry _and_ keep her from following him to Europe. Stubborn as she was, she'd insist on helping him recapture the twins, especially if she knew how much danger he'd be facing.\n\n\"I've heard enough. I'll leave today.\" Ethan's voice was grim, knowing that the only way to keep Jerry safe was to break her heart, but he couldn't do it alone.\n\n~~~\n\nEthan sat in the nearly empty diner, waiting for Dylan to show up. The weight of what he was about to ask of the man, and the resulting destruction to his and Jerry's relationship, sat heavy on his shoulders.\n\n\"What in the hell is so important that it couldn't wait a few hours? The sun's not even up.\" Dylan straggled into the diner, ready for a fight. Ethan's phone call took him from a very nice dream, one of a blond-haired beauty, and a sultry southern beach.\n\n\"I need your help.\" Ethan slid a steaming cup of coffee towards him. \"It's for Jerry. Drink up.\" He nodded towards the mug.\n\nDylan read the quiet desperation, and something else, on Ethan's face; pain mixed with determination. Whatever had caused Slick to get him out of bed was serious. He sipped the coffee and waited.\n\n\"Two years ago, I was instrumental in capturing the Anson brothers, twins who thrived on torturing, maiming, and murdering, random men and women in England, Ireland and Scotland.\" Ethan began without preamble. \"Their killing spree lasted for more than six months, primarily because we weren't aware that they were twins. The only pattern we could detect was that there was no pattern. One day, a woman was raped and mutilated in the hills of Scotland, the same afternoon, a teenage boy suffered the same fate in the heart of London. We knew the murders were connected, the M.O.'s were the same, but the distance, and the time span for the torture of each victim, made it impossible for one person to commit both crimes.\" Ethan took a breath. \"Also, video surveillance showed the same person, or so we thought, in both locations around the times of the murders. Instead of searching for twins, we focused the investigation on means of transportation between the two locations, which cost us valuable time.\"\n\n\"During the course of their killing spree, two victims, each tortured and killed in the same way, always turned up on the same day, hundreds of miles apart. The only time the brothers varied their M.O was toward the end of the spree, when they came together to slaughter the family of the lead investigator on the case.\" Ethan ran his hands over his eyes. Images of the carnage would haunt him forever.\n\n\"Why are you telling me this? What does it have to do with Jerry?\" Dylan prompted, shaking Ethan from the nightmarish memories.\n\nEthan ignored the questions and continued his spiel. \"I took over the investigation at that point, the lead obviously could not continue. Long story short, we captured them not long afterward, and they vowed revenge on me as the head of the task force. As you know, a prisoner spouting off is nothing new, so I dismissed the threat, especially as they were sentenced to life in the psychiatric ward of Portlaoise.\"\n\n\"That's one of the most secure prisons in Europe.\" Dylan nodded. \"But why the psychiatric ward?\"\n\n\"If you'd seen the butchery they left behind, especially when they slaughtered the officer's family, you'd know that no sane person could do that to other humans, or animals, for that matter.\" Ethan shuddered. \"I'm giving you this background so you can understand why I need your help to keep Jerry safe. They've escaped. We don't know how yet, but they were always very clever. Pictures of Jerry and me were found in their cell. Apparently, they've been tracking my movements for the past year. They also have information on my family, thanks to a hack job at Interpol.\"\n\nDylan sat in silence, understanding of both Ethan's need for help, and the vision of a devastated Jerry, dawning clear.\n\n\"You're leaving.\" He said simply.\n\n\"Today. I can't tell Jerry why, or she'll want to go with me. She can't know the danger I'm in, and she can't follow me. She'll be safer if it appears that I've cut all ties with her, that this was just an assignment, and that she means nothing to me.\" Ethan's voice caught on his last words. Dylan pretended not to notice.\n\n\"So you want me to help you break her heart.\" He stated, knowing it was the only way to keep Jerry from finding out the truth.\n\n\"Yes. If you can think of another way to keep her away from me until I catch those bastards again, I'd like to hear it.\"\n\nDylan considered Ethan's dilemma. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Jerry would try to help him, if she knew the truth. He trusted Ethan's instincts, and knowledge of the killers, enough to trust that Jerry needed to stay far away, in order not to be a target. Like Ethan, he could see no other way to protect her, than to convince her that Ethan was a lying scumbag.\n\n\"What do you want me to do?\" Dylan asked quietly.\n\n\"I'm afraid that if I simply disappear, she'll suspect something is not right. I have to convince her that I'm a bastard. That's where you come in.\"\n\n\"I can get behind that.\" Dylan smiled wryly, not at all happy with being complicit in lying to Jerry, even if it was for her own good.\n\n\"I thought you might. One thing, before we start. No one else can know about the ruse, not Nate, not anyone at all. There's a leak somewhere, and until we know who and where, this has to be just between us.\"\n\n\"Agreed, but Nate is no leak.\"\n\n\"I'm not saying that he is, but the fewer people who know the truth, the better.\" Ethan waited for Dylan's nod of agreement. \"The first thing we have to do is get Jerry some proof that I'm a cheat.\" Ethan cringed when he said the word, then continued. \"Pictures of me with other women will work, I think, especially if they're time-stamped within the past week.\"\n\n\"Where do you propose we find these women? It's still not even sunrise.\"\n\n\"That works in our favor. We'll start with Allison, our lovely waitress.\" Ethan nodded in the direction of the bored-looking young woman, wiping down the counter. \"A few hundred dollars, a new dress, the right setting, and voila, we've got a romantic date.\"\n\n\"How many women are you thinking?\"\n\n\"Three should do it. We'll take photos with the other two this morning, at different places in the city. I'll call an escort service for the other women, should make it quick and easy.\"\n\n\"And I'm supposed to show her the pictures after you leave?\" Dylan knew the idea was solid.\n\n\"Yes, _after_ you wrap up Casanova. I do not want her distracted.\" Ethan grabbed Dylan's wrist in a vice-like grip. \"I'm trusting you to keep her safe for the remainder of this assignment.\"\n\nDylan read Ethan's desperation and nodded. \"I'll make sure she comes out of this alive. You have my word.\"\n\nEthan searched Dylan's eyes before releasing his grip. \"Thank you.\"\n\nDylan nodded. \"Are you walking away from her for good, or until you capture the Ansons?\"\n\n\"One thing I know for sure is that Jerry is my soul mate. I'll be back for her, if she'll have me.\" Ethan sat back, resigned to his immediate fate, while refusing to give up on a future with Jerry. \"You have to help convince her that I lied, that I was simply playing a role. I may also need your help in the future, when I try to get her back.\"\n\n\"The only reason I'm doing this is because I know Jerry. If she has one inkling that you're in danger, she'll be on the next plane to find you. I'll make sure she believes that you lied, but as for the future, I'm not making any promises. If, when you do return, I think that she's better off without you, I won't help you get near her.\"\n\n\"If I think she's better off without me, I won't come back.\" Ethan said quietly. \"Get your camera. I'll start working on the waitress.\"\nChapter Nineteen\n\nJerry glanced around, unobtrusively, as Elliott led her to the private elevator that would whisk them both to their exclusive box seats. She hadn't spoken with Dylan, or Ethan, all morning, which was more than a little unusual. Nate had assured her that the ball game was covered, but he couldn't say exactly who would be watching over her.\n\nJonathan saw Jerry glance around from the corner of his eye. He was not as sure today that she would not betray him. A long night of devising strategies, and making plans for their final adventure together, had left him surprisingly alert to every nuance of her body language, expressions and breathing patterns. He felt an underlying tension from her, which belied her relaxed demeanor. Totally confident that he was reading her correctly, he became even more certain that she was more like Beth than he initially thought. She would betray him at the first opportunity.\n\nSmiling down at her as they rode the elevator up, he mentally covered the exit strategy he'd devised, one that would take her away from under the noses of whoever was stalking them.\n\nJerry had felt a change in Jonathan/Elliott from the moment he ushered her into his car. A subtle difference in the way he carried himself, more confident, if that was possible, and more stealthy. The hairs on the back of her neck were standing straight up, but she could determine no obvious reason for her discomfort. It was too soon in the timeline for Jonathan to make his move. Also, they were attending a very public game, not on a trek through the woods.\n\nThe well-appointed box contained everything they could want, while observing a baseball game. An elegant table, laden with food, stood adjacent to a well-stocked bar. Plush seats, to accommodate twenty, lined the front glass enclosure. Four other small groups milled around the room, each group acknowledged the new arrivals with polite nods, when the elevator door slid open.\n\n\"Friends of yours?\" Jerry asked in a quiet aside.\n\n\"No. Friends of friends. I thought you'd be more comfortable here than in the bleachers with the masses.\" He neglected to mention that he wouldn't be caught dead in the folding seats reserved for common ticketholders.\n\n\"Thank you, this is wonderful.\" Jerry smiled warmly at Jonathan and placed her hand on his arm.\n\n\"Would you like a drink?\" He offered, guiding her to the seating area. \"How about champagne?\"\n\n\"That sounds lovely,\" Jerry perched on the edge of the seat.\n\n\"I'll be back shortly.\" Jonathan kissed her hand before releasing it.\n\nJerry took the opportunity to study the room while Jonathan was gone. The only exits were the elevator, and a door marked 'Stairs' at the end of a long hallway, just beyond the restrooms.\n\nBy the time Jonathan came back with their drinks, people were taking seats and preparing for the first pitch.\n\nJerry arranged the delicate pin she wore clipped to her Hermes scarf, so that the camera angle would take in the field. If Ethan and Dylan weren't here, she could at least let them see some of the game.\n\nJonathan watched her fidget with her scarf and became more convinced that she was nervous about her betrayal.\n\nThe drug hit Jerry within the first few sips of champagne. The room began to spin, and the only stable force she could find was Jonathan's embrace.\n\nJonathan held her close, murmuring platitudes, as he braced her body against his, and helped her from the room, all the while smiling apologetically at the nearby fans who noticed. As soon as they reached the hallway, Jonathan swept Jerry into his arms and carried her toward the exit.\n\nJerry's head lolled against the soft fabric of Jonathan's shoulder. It felt as if she were flying, suspended in forward movement along a long, empty hallway. Her body felt lifeless, she was completely unable to move, even her finger. The camera pin was pressed against his chest, offering a view of brown fibers to the watchful agents.\n\n~~~\n\n\"We've got a malfunction.\" Rodney, pulling double duty as a monitor as he sat in the agency car, parked outside of the ballpark, called Dylan as soon as the image from Jerry's pin camera became fuzzy.\n\n\"What do you mean a malfunction?\" Dylan, weary from the morning's extracurricular activities with Ethan, and heartsick about his role in the whole thing, didn't bother to hide his aggravation.\n\n\"I don't know. It looked like Jerry started for the hallway off of the main room, when the screen started wobbling. As soon as she reached the edge of the room, the screen turned brown and fibrous.\"\n\n\"What do you hear?\" Dylan became instantly alert.\n\n\"Nothing, not even background noise.\"\n\n\"Is the camera moving at all?\"\n\n\"Now it is. Looks like it's bobbing up and down, but we've still got nothing but a brown image.\"\n\n\"Hold on.\" Switching to a different phone, he called Moretti, one of the agents charged with following Jerry and Jonathan this morning. \"Do you have eyes on the target?\" He demanded without preamble.\n\n\"Negative. They went inside a private box. We're outside the elevator door.\"\n\n\"Dammit. What was the unsub wearing?\"\n\n\"Brown jacket, khaki slacks, and an open-collar shirt.\"\n\n\"Dammit all to hell. Get someone to the stairway leading from the box, and send someone in to question the witnesses. You stay by the elevator, in case they come out that way. They're on the move.\" Dylan clicked off and went back to Rodney.\n\n\"What do you see now?\"\n\n\"Still brown, still movement, jarring up and down. What do you think is happening?\"\n\n\"He's onto us.\" Dylan's voice was grim. \"He's carrying her out, the brown you see is his jacket. Dammit.\" Dylan began to pace. \"Do you still have eyes on his car?\"\n\n\"Yes, no activity since they disappeared inside the park.\"\n\n\"Good, that's good.\" Dylan ran his hand through his hair in agitation. \"But if he's onto us, he may have a different way out. That's what I would do, a Plan B,\" he murmured. \"You let me know the second that camera view changes, or if you see him heading for the car. I'm calling for back-up.\"\n\n\"Will do.\" Rodney's eyes remained glued to the screen.\n\n\"Nate,\" Dylan barely gave him time to answer. \"Casanova's taken Jerry, we need back-up at every exit of AT&T Park. Immediately.\"\n\n\"Hold on.\" Nate quickly gave orders to the young agent, assisting him with the red tape involved with the assignment. \"They're on the way. What in hell is happening?\" He demanded.\n\n\"He's onto us. I think he has an alternate escape vehicle. What do you want to bet that it's not one we've got tracking on? Tell the back-up to look for Casanova driving any kind of car. They may or may not see Jerry in the vehicle.\"\n\nNate relayed the message before insisting on more detail. \"Tell me exactly what happened.\"\n\n\"He took her to a private box at the stadium. Shortly after, Jerry's camera pin began to wobble, then the image became fuzzy brown. The brown screen was moving up and down, similar to what would occur if the unsub was carrying her. Oh, he's wearing a brown jacket.\"\n\n\"Jones, activate the GPS on Jerry Forbes' phone.\" Nate barked to his assistant. \"What's happening this instant?\" He demanded of Dylan.\n\n\"Hold on, I'll patch us in with Rodney.\" Ten seconds later, Dylan had them on a three-way. \"Rodney, what's the status?\"\n\n\"No activity at the car, the camera's still projecting brown fuzz.\" He began, then became excited. \"Wait, the image is changing, I see his face. It's like he's looming over her. I see the inside of a car trunk. He's searching Jerry for something, I see him moving above her. He's jostling her...wait...I see what looks like the inside of a parking garage. There's a noise, like ripping duct tape. Crap, he's sealing the trunk.\"\n\n\"What color is the car, can you tell?\" Dylan asked, his tension level escalating.\n\n\"Dark green or dark gray, hard to tell from this angle.\"\n\n\"Can you get the make?\"\n\n\"No, but the trunk is small, couldn't be bigger than a midsize car.\"\n\nNate relayed the information to his assistant.\n\n\"What else, Rodney, what's he doing now?\" Dylan tried to keep his cool, but a feeling of helplessness slowly began to descend over him.\n\n\"He just slammed the trunk closed. It's black now.\" Rodney sat back, feeling defeated.\n\n\"We know he's got another car. Dylan, check the tracking information on the Mas and the Prius, see if they're on the move. Rodney, get to the nearest exit of the parking garage, watch for him to leave.\" Nate turned to his assistant. \"What's the word on Jerry's GPS?\"\n\n\"It's active, but it's stable. The best I can give you is the address for the parking garage, adjacent to AT&T Park.\"\n\n\"Stay on it, let me know the moment the location changes. Redirect all available back-up to the parking garage exits.\" Nate turned his attention to Dylan. \"What's the word?\"\n\n\"No movement on any of his known vehicles. Bastard got smart and turned the tables on us.\"\n\n\"Where's Ethan? I want you both on the streets, just in case this turns into a manhunt.\"\n\n\"Ethan's gone. He left this morning. Said he knew we had it under control, and he had to get back.\" Dylan lied.\n\nStunned, Nate was silent for several heartbeats. \"I didn't see that coming. Does Jerry know?\"\n\n\"Not yet. I'll break it to her when this is done.\" The tension in Dylan's voice translated perfectly through the phone.\n\n\"Better you than me,\" Nate muttered, then changed directions. \"Head to the roof, I'll bring the chopper in ten.\"\n\n\"On my way.\"\n\n~~~\n\nThe rental car, waiting on the third level of the parking deck, was completely different from Jonathan's usual style. Compact and nondescript, the dark green Toyota fit in seamlessly with every other car on the freeway. Jonathan laughed delightedly as he left the crowded parking lot of AT&T Park, and merged into the throng of vehicles on the Bayshore Freeway, heading away from the bay. His laughter grew when he spotted the unmarked cars, with blue lights blazing through the windshields, rush past him on the opposite side of the road.\n\n\"Too little, too late,\" he sang, straightening the blond wig he'd had the foresight to bring. \"She's mine now, all mine.\" Rather than cheer him, the thoughts of Jerry's betrayal saddened him. He had so hoped that she was different from the others, so wanted her to be worthy of his love.\n\n\"They're all the same.\" Hitting the steering wheel, his facial expression changed instantly from gleeful exuberance at outsmarting the cops, to a menacing, maniacal scowl worthy of a madman.\n\nAt the first opportunity, he exited the freeway onto a thoroughfare that would lead him to the 101 and his desired destination, Carmel. The cliffs in the area were some of the most beautiful along the California coast. He'd always planned to visit, just not this soon.\n\n~~~\n\n\"No green, or gray, midsize cars have exited the parking garage since we arrived.\" The report was the same from every officer and agent assigned to the structure.\n\n\"How the hell did he get out so fast?\" Dylan asked Nate from the backseat of the chopper.\n\n\"Damned if I know. Let's fly along the expressway. He's likely heading for his comfort zone, the mountains.\" Nate's terse orders to the pilot told Dylan how concerned he was for Jerry's safety. If Casanova was going towards the cliffs, they both knew his agenda.\n\n\"Jerry can take care of herself, boss.\" Dylan reminded both of them.\n\n\"Sure she can, if she's not out cold, or restrained.\" Nate voiced what they both feared. \"Go lower,\" he barked at the pilot, \"I want to see inside every car on that highway.\"\n\n~~~\n\nJerry awoke to a screaming headache, and cramps in her legs. She knew right away that she was in the trunk of a car. In addition to the humps on both sides of the enclosure, the searing heat inside the space, and the drone of the motor, gave it away.\n\nHow long had she been out? Moving her arm to reach into her pocket for the phone was excruciating, and proved fruitless. Her phone was gone.\n\nFeeling for the lever that would open the trunk from the inside, she found duct tape covering the switch, a simple but effective way of disabling the escape route. He'd also covered the inside of the taillights with duct tape, keeping her from punching through for light and air. She couldn't reach the edge of the strips, he'd anticipated her efforts and blocked every move.\n\n\"Round one, psycho.\" Jerry muttered, as she felt every inch of space she could reach inside the trunk, searching for anything she could use to break through the tape. Nothing. The trunk was clean.\n\nThe car was moving at a steady clip, the wheels kept time with the drumming in her head. Rearranging her body to find as comfortable a position as possible, she was suddenly grateful for the hours spent folding herself in abnormal ways during yoga. The relaxation techniques she'd learned helped clear her mind in preparation for the battle to come.\n\nAs much as she'd like to believe that Ethan and Dylan were hot on her trail, she knew in her gut that she was on her own. If she was coming out of this one alive, she would do it alone.\n\nThe thought didn't frighten her, but she knew that Ethan would be frantic. For love of him as much as herself, she knew she had to escape whatever Jonathan had in store for her.\n\nHow the hell had he discovered they were onto him? Had she said or done something to make him suspicious? She'd felt that things were off this morning, but not enough to get her spidey senses tingling. If he'd veered this much from his M.O., then his next move was not at all predictable.\n\n\"I'd lay dollars to donuts that we're heading for the cliffs, but which ones?\" Jerry spoke aloud, as much to hear her own voice in the dark space, as to express her thought. \"It doesn't matter which ones,\" she reasoned. \"I'll need to outwit him, and overpower him, in order to get away.\"\n\nIt was then that she remembered the camera pin. Twisting her arm upward, she felt that it was still in place. More than visual, the camera also had audio capabilities. Whoever was watching may not be able to see inside the darkened space, but they may be able to hear her, as long as they were in range.\n\n\"Hello,\" she placed her lips near the pin, not willing to let Jonathan hear her speak. \"This is Jerry. I'm okay. I'm in a trunk. No phone.\" She racked her brain for something she could tell them that would help, but she had nothing. Without concern for the ribbing she would take from Dylan, and whomever else happened to be listening, she sent Ethan a message. \"Tell Ethan that I'm fine and not to worry. Tell him that I love him, and that I'll see him soon.\" It was the only comfort she could give, but thoughts of him strengthened her resolve to walk away from this nightmare.\n\n~~~\n\n\"It's Jerry, she's awake and talking.\" Rodney's phone was patched into Dylan's and Nate's headsets.\n\n\"What did she say?\" They asked in unison.\n\n\"She said she's okay, that she's in a trunk, and that she doesn't have a phone.\" Rodney blushed, then continued. \"She also sent a message for Ethan, but it's personal. Is he around?\" Rodney had seen the way those two looked at each other, and suspected that the romance was not a fake.\n\n\"No, but I'll see that he gets it.\" Dylan lied again. \"What was it?\"\n\n\"She said for him not to worry, that she'll see him soon. And that she loves him.\" Rodney's blush deepened. It felt awkward to be privy to such personal information.\n\n\"Thanks, Rodney.\" Dylan's tone was harsh. \"Let us know if she says anything else.\"\n\nNate waited for the vein in Dylan's neck to stop throbbing before he spoke.\n\n\"Ethan's not coming back, is he?\"\n\n\"Nope.\" Dylan shifted his eyes, not sure he could lie to Nate while looking at him dead on. \"It gets worse. He's been playing Jerry, seeing other women, while stringing her along. Son of a bitch thinks he's some kind of modern day Don Juan, and Jerry thinks he hung the moon.\" Dylan sighed.\n\n\"Jerry's tough, she'll be fine. We'll make sure of it.\" Nate felt fiercely protective of Jerry, he always had. \"She deserves better than that asshole anyway.\"\n\n\"Damn straight. We'll tell her so, just as soon as we get her back.\"\n\n~~~\n\nThey'd been riding for hours before the car turned off the road onto a rocky stretch. Jerry felt every rock and pothole that marked what felt like a steep incline. Finally, things were about to get interesting.\n\nShe'd spent the time planning how she'd react when he opened the trunk. He'd be expecting anger or fear, but she would give him neither. She knew enough about delusional disorders to understand that things could change on a dime, given the current perception of the person with the illness. She would simply change his perception of her, make him believe that she enjoyed whatever little game he was playing. It was a longshot, but it was all she had.\n\nThe car rolled to a stop, after climbing for about fifteen minutes. Jerry plastered a smile on her face, and prepared to play the part of her life.\n\n~~~\n\n\"Guys, it sounds like the car stopped.\" Rodney told them as soon as the motor died.\n\n\"Where the hell did he take her?\" Nate was as frustrated as he'd ever been. He had faith in Jerry, and knowing that she was awake, and unrestrained, gave him hope that she would be okay.\"\n\n\"It's a sure bet that they're not still on this highway,\" Dylan told him, motioning to the freeway below. \"The damn thing's practically at a standstill from rush hour traffic. How do people live like this?\"\n\n\"He's opening the trunk, I see trees.\" Rodney's voice was hushed, as if by speaking any louder, he would put Jerry in more danger.\n\n~~~\n\nJonathan opened the trunk carefully, fully prepared to knock Jerry out again, if need be. He was totally unprepared for the radiant smile, lighting her face with a beautiful glow.\n\n\"Why, Elliott, you bad, bad boy.\" She laughed and held out her hand to him, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. He took it out of habit.\n\n\"Why didn't you tell me you liked to play? I simply adore sexy games, especially kidnap and ransom.\" Jerry gushed as she unfolded herself from the trunk. Sitting on the edge of the trunk opening, her legs dangling so the blood could flow freely again, she transformed her face into a pout. \"Next time, you can blindfold me. It makes it more interesting.\" She placed both hands on his shoulders, noting the confused expression clouding his face. \"Be a doll and help me out, would you? My legs are a bit stiff.\"\n\n~~~\n\n\"You won't believe how she's playing it,\" Rodney's admiration was evident. \"She's pretending that it's a game, a sex game. Looks like he's buying it, his face is a mask of confusion.\" Rodney chuckled.\n\nDylan sighed in relief. \"She's working his delusion. Too bad we never got the report, that would have helped her know which buttons to push.\" He shot his eyes at Nate, who only shrugged.\n\n\"Don't start with me again about that damn report. I did everything but choke it out of the Doc myself.\" He focused on Rodney. \"What's happening, what else can you see?\"\n\n\"He's helping her out of the car, still looks confused. She's talking a mile a minute, about different games they could play, and oohing and aahing over the beauty of the forest. That's about all I can see, a bunch of trees, looks like redwoods. They're walking, I see a drop off.\"\n\n\"She'll have to make her move soon,\" Dylan hunched forward, willing Jerry strength.\n\n~~~\n\n\"Oh, Elliott, look at the gorgeous sunset!\" Jerry infused her voice with wonder. \"How did you ever find such a glorious spot for our first time together?\" She tugged on his arm, keeping him by her side, as they moved toward the edge. He still hadn't spoken since opening the trunk.\n\n\"I wanted it to be perfect for you, Beth.\" He covered her hand with his as she held onto him. \"I know how you love sunsets.\" Jonathan never felt reality slip completely away. He only knew that his beloved Beth was once again by his side.\n\n\"I do, I do, thank you, darling. You're so very thoughtful.\" Jerry rested her head on his shoulder in a loving gesture, all the while searching for anything nearby that she could use as a weapon.\n\n\"Anything for you, my love. Here, let's sit.\" He extricated his arm from hers and removed his jacket, gallantly spreading it on the forest floor. \"I seem to have forgotten the blanket and picnic.\" A look of confusion returned to his face.\n\n\"Oh, darling, it's perfect, just as it is.\" Jerry made herself comfortable and looked up at him adoringly. He settled beside her, half on the coat, and half on the ground. Jerry looped one arm through his, so they would both face the view. \"Where are we? It's stunning. The water is so blue, but it looks so far away.\"\n\n\"We're in Carmel, California, darling. Remember how we planned to come here together? I wanted it to be a surprise.\" The memory of that non-existent conversation was as clear as day to Jonathan.\n\n\"Carmel? How wonderful. You do spoil me so.\" Jerry felt around behind her for a rock.\n\n\"It's my pleasure, darling. Your wish is my command.\" Jonathan glanced down at her and saw the strained look in her eyes, just before she lowered her lashes. He was extremely sensitive to all of Beth's moods. \"What's wrong, love?\"\n\nCringing involuntarily at his use of Ethan's pet name for her, Jerry shifted slightly to hide the rock beneath the jacket sleeve. \"It's nothing, darling, I'm just a bit out of sorts from the trip.\" As in every muscle in my body aches, thanks to you, you bastard. She bit her lip to keep the words inside.\n\nJonathan looked confused again. \"It was a long car ride. Would you like to stretch your legs?\"\n\n\"I'm fine, thank you. Let's just sit here together, and enjoy nature's show. What part of Carmel did you say we're in?\"\n\nJonathan cut his eyes sharply at the innocent inquiry. Beth never questioned him so much before. Something was not right. \"We're on the cliffs, north of town.\" He explained with a frown. \"We followed the Pacific Coast Highway to get here, just as we discussed. Remember, you said you always wanted to make that drive?\"\n\n\"Of course, how silly of me. Perhaps on the way back, I can ride up front with you?\" Jerry couldn't help the sarcasm that crept into her voice.\n\nJonathan narrowed his eyes. This woman didn't sound like his Beth. What was happening? With a flash of insight, Jerry came into focus; he realized where he was and what he must do. The loving light shining in her eyes for him was a deception. He saw that clearly now. She had betrayed him, just like all the others. Just like his Beth.\n\n\"Certainly darling. Whatever you like.\"\n\nThe physical change was nearly nonexistent, but for the cold fury that suddenly came into his eyes. This was the killer Jerry had been waiting for; the one she knew lurked inside of this so-called Casanova. It was now or never, she may only have one chance to save herself.\n\nJonathan slid the switchblade from his left pocket, his eyes never leaving Jerry's. This one would be different, messy, not a clean slice and shove like the others. It couldn't be helped, he resigned, as he pressed the lever that released the blade from the sheath.\n\nJerry heard the distinct click as the knife opened. Without a second's hesitation, she brought the rock up and struck him on the temple, as hard as she possibly could.\n\nBlood sprayed her face and hands, but Jonathan did not fall. Stunned, he stabbed the air around her, prompting Jerry to jump to her feet to escape his reach, but she didn't move fast enough. Jonathan, blood streaming down his face, grabbed her ankle with his right hand, while swinging the knife wildly with his left.\n\nJerry brought the rock down on his head again, her force much more compelling as she stood. Her next blow landed on his shoulder in an effort to make him release the fierce grip he had on her ankle.\n\nJonathan howled in pain, sending birds and other woodland creatures scattering away from the commotion. Jerry wondered at how part of her brain took in the animals' movements, all the while she fought for her life.\n\nWith both legs free, Jerry kicked the knife from Jonathan's still flailing hand, before crashing the rock down, one last time, on his head. The final blow sent Jonathan slumping onto the ground, a fountain of blood, draining the life from his body.\n\nJerry dropped the rock, grabbed the knife, and stepped away from the body. He was dead, or soon would be, and she felt nothing but relief. Standing bent over with her hands on her knees, she caught her breath before straightening to her full height, and staring over the cliffs.\n\nThe sun was dipping just below the horizon, sending a kaleidoscope of oranges, yellows, and reds, into the sky above. Without a doubt, it was the most beautiful sight she had ever seen.\nChapter Twenty\n\n\"He's down, she did it.\" Rodney relayed the fight between Jerry and Jonathan, blow by blow, to Dylan and Nate. All three men breathed a collective sigh of relief at his last words.\n\n\"Now we just have to find her.\" Nate scoured the shoreline, looking for anything that would stand out in the quickly changing light. Just then, his phone rang.\n\n\"It's me, Boss.\" Jerry sounded weary, but strong. \"It's over.\"\n\n\"Are you okay?\" Nate motioned to Dylan that the call was from Jerry.\n\n\"Never better,\" Jerry joked. \"I found my phone in the car, he'd disabled it, but you should be able to track the GPS now. Come and get me, would you?\"\n\n\"We're on our way.\"\n\n~~~\n\nJerry heard the chopper land, only minutes before she saw two figures running up the hill towards her. Two flashlights swung from side to side in the growing dusk as they searched for her location. With keys she'd found in Jonathan's pocket, she started the car to let the headlights guide them.\n\nDylan reached her first, grabbing her in a big bear hug, before he pushed her away for a head to toe inspection. Satisfied, he passed her off to Nate without saying a word.\n\n\"I'm fine, really,\" she assured both of them, after Nate gave her a once over of his own. \"Too bad I can't say the same for Casanova over there.\" She nodded in the direction of Jonathan's body.\n\n\"Gotta love Karma,\" Dylan grinned. \"She's a bitch, but she's fair. Bastard got exactly what he deserved.\"\n\n\"Can't argue with that,\" Nate headed in the direction of the body, already punching numbers into his phone for the coroner.\n\n\"Where's Ethan?\" Jerry asked, confused that he was not with Dylan and Nate. In the darkening minutes that passed since she'd killed Jonathan, thoughts of Ethan had both warmed her, and kept her sane.\n\nThe shadow crossing Dylan's face before he turned away gave Jerry her first inkling that something was wrong. Grabbing Dylan's arms, she made him face her.\n\n\"Is he okay, what happened?\" The emotion she'd kept neatly in place, during the ride in the trunk, and during the ordeal with Jonathan, was now beginning to spiral out of control.\n\n\"He's fine, he's safe.\" Dylan assured her, dreading the moments ahead more than anything he'd ever done. \"He had to leave.\"\n\nJerry searched his face for answers and didn't like what she saw. \"What do you mean, leave? Where did he go?\"\n\n\"He went back to Europe.\" Dylan gingerly removed the camera pin from her scarf and disabled it. \"He said to say goodbye.\"\n\nJerry noticed Dylan's movements and heard the words he spoke, but she didn't understand what he was saying.\n\n\"He left, back to Europe? Today? But why?\" She felt Dylan lead her back to the car and help her into the passenger seat. Her eyes followed him as he slid into the driver's side before turning to face her.\n\n\"Are you sure you want to have this conversation, now? You've been through enough.\"\n\n\"What do you mean, _this conversation_? Tell me what the hell is going on.\" Her voice began to rise, the shock from the day's events threatening to become hysterics. Dylan sighed and took her hands in his.\n\n\"I know you love him, but the truth is that he is not worthy of you.\" He began, cursing himself silently when tears sprang into her eyes.\n\n\"What exactly are you saying, Dylan?\"\n\n\"Your relationship wasn't real, it was just a game to him. He was seeing at least three other women, that I know of, this past week. God knows how many he had during the entire time that he was here.\" He watched as horror replace confusion on her face. This was killing him. \"I'm sorry, Jerry, but he left this morning, said to tell you, and I quote, 'It was fun.'\"\n\n\"No. That's not possible. He loves me. He would never do that.\" Jerry felt her world shift. The always-present part of her that believed she was not worthy of love grew stronger in the aftermath of her denial.\n\n\"I have proof.\" Dylan said softly.\n\n\"Show me.\" Jerry whispered, calmly accepting that Dylan was not lying, and that she would never be good enough.\n\n\"Are you sure?\"\n\n\"Show me.\" She repeated, defeat nearly breaking her in two. It was best to get it all out now, rip the bandage off completely, so the wound would begin to heal. As if that will ever happen; the little girl's voice inside her spoke the truth.\n\nDylan pulled the pack of photos from his pocket and handed them over to her. \"You don't have to do this now,\" he said again. She looked so fragile, so completely unlike the Jerry he knew, and loved.\n\n\"Yes, I do.\" Removing the photos, her heart began to pound and sweat broke out over her brow. There was Ethan's beautiful, lying, face, smiling into the eyes of some blond bombshell, the Golden Gate Bridge in the background. The next image was taken at night. He and an attractive brunette lounged on the sand at the water's edge, the lights of Pier 39 shining in the distance. The third picture showed Ethan and a different blond, he must be partial to bottled color, hanging off the side of a street car, laughing.\n\nJerry placed the pictures back in the pouch and sat silently for a long moment.\n\n\"How is it that you have these?\" She finally asked.\n\n\"I suspected that he was a scumbag from the moment I laid eyes on him. I knew that you were falling for him, so I had him followed. I never wanted this, Jerry, no matter what I thought of him. You have to believe that.\"\n\n\"When were you going to tell me?\" She felt dead inside, drained as surely as Jonathan's corpse.\n\n\"As soon as I could prove it. I just got the pictures today, this morning in fact, after the scumbag left. I didn't even get a chance to punch him.\" Dylan growled, wishing he could do some serious damage to Ethan's face right now, no matter how good his reasons were for leaving.\n\n\"He's not worth it.\" Her voice was devoid of emotion. The heat, and the fury, Dylan knew would save her had not yet surfaced.\n\n\"He didn't deserve you, Jer.\" Dylan told her as he reached over to take her in his arms. \"You deserve so much better.\" He stroked her hair and felt the shudders run through her. She was too drained to cry, too hurt to speak. He knew the tears would come soon, he'd seen them in a vision.\n\n\"Let's get you home,\" he crooned, and rocked her like a child.\nEpilogue\n\n\"Tell me she's okay,\" Ethan's demand sounded more like a plea.\n\n\"Physically, she's fine.\" Dylan said tersely. He'd spent the better part of the night letting Jerry cry it out on his shoulder. Ethan Barnes was not his favorite person at the moment.\n\n\"And otherwise?\" Ethan asked, though he already knew the answer. Leaving Jerry had created a hole in his very soul, he could only imagine how much harder it was for her, believing that he'd lied to her, and played her for a fool.\n\n\"How do you think she's doing, Barnes? Spare me the stupid questions. Was there another reason for your call?\" Dylan still had the urge to bash in Slick's face.\n\n\"No. I just needed to know that she was safe.\" Ethan's voice dropped.\n\n\"Read the report, watch the video. It's all there.\" Dylan growled. \"Go do what you left her to do.\"\n\n\"I will. And I'll be back for her, Dawes. Count on it.\"\nDear Reader,\n\nThank you for making the books of my series, Timeless Trilogy, best sellers at Amazon U.S. and Amazon U.K.; I'm humbled by your loyalty and your kind words.\n\nI'm including a bonus excerpt from the next book in the SSCD series, _The Littles_. In it, we fast forward about two years, to when Jeri (she changes the spelling of her name, to avoid being thought a man) is in charge of her own team. Together, they hunt down the lowest of the low, a psychopath who focuses his rage on children, until a member of the team catches his eye.\n\nEthan and Jeri find each other again in the third novel of the SSCD series, Bayou Butcher. Discover how Jeri and Ethan meet again, after more than two years apart. Will she forgive him? Does he deserve it?\n\nBONUS EXCERPT: The Littles, An SSCD Crime Thriller:\n\n### Prologue\n\nThe woman's eyes shot daggers of pain-filled hatred into the black, soulless, eyes of her son. Naked and gagged, with arms and ankles bound behind her, the woman lay sideways on top of a cold, metal table.\n\n\"One more strip should do it.\" The man, grown weary from hours dedicated to his mother's torture, sliced another section of skin from her exposed arm, this one near her shoulder. \"We must give our furry friends incentive to feed.\"\n\nStepping back, he admired his handiwork. He'd been careful not to make any of the cuts too deep, he didn't want her bleeding out. No, exsanguination would be too good for this whore. Smiling, he imagined a long, slow, death, in the same darkness in which she'd happily trapped him as a child.\n\nWeeks of starvation, while she became rat food, seemed a more appropriate way for the bitch to go. He would visit, from time to time, maybe even remove the gag and let her beg for life. Or death.\n\n\"I suppose I should thank you, while your mind is still clear.\" He told the moaning woman. \"Without your example of maternal love, I might never have realized my true mission. It is my duty to save other Littles from she-devils like you. It will be my pleasure to punish them for a lifetime.\"\n\nAs if she weighed next to nothing, he picked up the woman who gave him life, and tossed her into the basement closet that would become her coffin.\n\n### One\n\n\"You're a snob, pure and simple.\" Jeri aimed her voice at the speaker atop her desk. \"Just because a movie has less than a four-star rating, doesn't mean that it's bad. Some very good movies have three stars, two stars even.\"\n\n\"Oh, yeah? Name three. Hell, name one.\" Dylan looked across the room at his wife, Roni, casually arranging recipe cards for her next show. His heart tripped as it always did when he looked at her. God, he loved that woman.\n\n\"I'll send you a list.\" Jeri grinned and continued. \"That's really not the point. The point is your misguided snobbery. You're basing your opinion on everyone else's. If your preferences are dictated by mass opinion, which, by the way, usually correlates with the studio's advertising budget, you're potentially missing out on ...\"\n\nYou're the one who's missing the point.\" Dylan interrupted, ready to hunker into a meaningful discussion on the merits of filtering and time management in regards to wasting 90 minutes on a movie that sucked. Jeri stopped him, mid thought.\n\n\"Come in,\" she called in response to a sharp knock on the door. Dylan frowned as he listened to the brief exchange.\n\n\"There's been another one in Georgia.\" Dylan recognized Adam Gold, Jeri's partner. His deep baritone was hard to miss. \"They just called us in. Briefing in ten.\"\n\nJeri nodded solemnly as Adam's head disappeared behind the door. \"Dammit, dammit, dammit.\" Jeri swore, forgetting for a moment that Dylan was on the phone.\n\n\"What's happening in Georgia?\" Dylan's tone changed from carefree to concerned.\n\nJeri jumped slightly at the sound, then sighed. \"Murder.\" Her voice was thick with anger. \"Particularly gruesome murders\" She swallowed hard. \"Children.\" Her voice nearly broke at the thoughts of those brutally killed at the hands of a monster.\n\nDylan lowered his own voice, reading the distress in hers. \"How many? Where in Georgia?\"\n\n\"Three, so far. In the mountains, northwest of Atlanta. He chooses his victims from small communities. More impact for his kills.\" She began packing her desk, preparing to leave for an extended stay in Georgia. If her gut was right, and it usually was, this bastard was just getting started.\n\nDylan felt an old tug, one that drew him towards danger and the satisfaction of stalk and capture. More than anything, he loved locking away the dregs of society. Well, more than almost anything. Since marrying his beguiling witch, he found it near impossible to be away from her for any length of time.\n\n\"Go get him. Be careful.\" His voice was low, but fierce.\n\n\"Always am.\" Jeri snapped her briefcase closed. \"I'll be in touch.\" She disconnected the phone, her mind already running over details of the first two murders. Both children were seven years old, both had been abducted in broad daylight from their homes. Both mothers were stay-at-homes and both were present, in another part of the house, when he took their only child. The method of both killings was also the same, Jeri made a conscious decision to skip those details. She and her team would dissect every bit of gory minutia as they worked to discover the unsub's identity. \"Unknown subject, my ass.\" She muttered on her way to the conference room. \"This one's a coward. It takes a big man to prey on little children.\" Her sarcasm was not lost as Adam joined her.\n\n\"Add sadist with mommy issues to that list.\" He held open the door, letting Jeri go in first. No matter how outdated the concept, chivalry was as much a part of his character as was his easy charm, and dedication to the job. With his movie star good looks and family connections, he could have had a career in politics, was groomed for it, in fact, but he chose to serve as a federal agent. Much to the disappointment of Adam Gold, Sr.\n\nJackson and Cara, partners and fellow field team members, were already seated, studying split screen images of the three victims on the wall monitor.\n\nJeri cringed and held back the bile that automatically rose to her throat. Some things you never got used to. \"Another little girl.\" she commented. \"I wonder if he's decided on a preference.\"\n\n\"Possibly, but it could just be that she met the rest of his needs. Only child, aged seven, work-at-home mom, rural town.\" Cara touched the fingertips of one hand with the index finger of the other as she reeled off the characteristics.\n\n\"What are the differences?\" Jeri asked as she took her seat.\n\n\"The biggest change is the time between the abductions, and the kills. The first two abductions were spaced over two months. He held Jeffrey for three days, and Angela for two, before killing them.\" Jackson switched the screen to a timeline. \"He took Lucy Carson yesterday, just two weeks from his last kill. And he only kept her for one day.\"\n\n\"That had to be a blessing,\" Adam murmured as he scrolled through the images on his tablet. \"Did he call the family this time?\"\n\n\"Only once, last night.\" Jackson read from his notes. \"The transcript is the same as the others. Initially, the child is crying, screaming for mommy. He lets that go on for up to ten seconds before he outlines, in gory detail, just what he plans to do to their child. Meanwhile, the child is still screaming, and begging for Mommy, in the background. Each phone call lasts about a minute, plenty of time to track it.\"\n\n\"But that would be too easy.\" Jeri nodded for Jackson to continue.\n\n\"Damn right, and this bastard's anything but easy. The burner phones trace back to grocery stores in the area. We're working on video footage, but that's tricky. The problem is that there's little, to no, digital imprint in the backwoods of Georgia. None of the stores where the phones were purchased have cameras. If the phone numbers were not tied to product codes, we'd have no idea where he made the purchases.\"\n\n\"What about tracking the phone?\" Adam asked.\n\n\"Sure, but it's no good. He calls on the edge of cell tower range, about a hundred miles from the town where he takes the victims. After each call, he disables the phone until he needs it again. He ditches the phone after each kill, always in a very visible spot.\"\n\n\"He's arrogant. He thinks he's smarter than law enforcement and he's taunting them. Taunting us.\" Jeri tapped her finger on the table, absently. \"Are the children recorded, or live, on the calls?\"\n\n\"Not sure,\" Cara made a note. \"Jimmy should have the originals by now, I'll ask.\"\n\n\"If it's recorded, tell him to isolate any background noise. Maybe we'll get a clue where he's taking them.\" Jeri's eyes narrowed. \"It has to be isolated, but that's not difficult in this terrain. Where was Lucy taken?\" She ran her fingers lightly over the little girl's name. Lucy Carson, a blond haired, blue eyed beauty with dimples and a thousand watt smile. The image on Jeri's tablet looked nothing like the image on the wall screen.\n\n\"Coker, near the North Carolina border. He dropped the phone at a ranger station in the National Forest, just over the North Carolina line.\" Cara changed the wall screen to an area map of western Georgia. \"The ranger came off patrol and found the phone on his desk, smeared with blood.\"\n\n\"Just like the other two.\" Adam commented. \"Is that why they finally called us in? He crossed state lines?\"\n\n\"No. The governor's office reached out before the phone was located. They know they're in over their heads.\"\n\n\"Show the hometowns on the map.\" Jeri asked. Instantly, three red dots appeared. \"Now, add in the locations where the bodies were found.\" Three blue dots appeared, each within the area created by the first three dots.\n\n\"Connect the dots.\" Adam stood, moving to the screen for a closer look. \"That's almost perfect.\" Two isosceles triangles lit the screen, one intersecting the other.\n\n\"Mark the locations where the phones were found.\" Jeri instructed. A third perfect triangle appeared, intersecting the first two.\n\n\"He dumped the phones in locations dead center of the distance between the abduction sites.\" Adam mused. \"He's made a star.\"\n\n\"Or, he's making a star. This pattern could overlap and increase exponentially.\" Jeri tossed her tablet on the table. \"It could also be a complete coincidence, but I doubt it. The pattern means something to him. Or he's sending a message. What's the relation between the time of death and the phone calls?\"\n\n\"The one, and only, call to Lucy's parents came nine hours after the abduction, same as the first two. Jeffrey's parents also received two more calls. One 27 hours after the abduction, and the last, 45 hours after the abduction. He called Angela's parents only once more, 36 hours after the abduction.\" Cara scrolled between pages on her tablet, reciting the information as she found it.\n\n\"The numbers form a pattern, just like the kill zone. There has to be something to it.\" Jeri began to pace. \"Cara, ask Jimmy to run the data for mathematical significance, as well as for similarities to other crimes. Don't stop with regional, go national. This guy is too precise for these to be his first victims.\"\n\n\"On it.\" Cara began typing a message.\n\n\"If the son of a bitch is leaving us a pattern, let's follow it,\" Jeri continued. \"He started in Dixon, with Jeffrey, took Angela from Eula, and then moved on to Coker. He left the bodies' halfway between each child's hometown and his next target area.\"\n\n\"Each body was posed for maximum effect in a central location. He left Jeffrey on a bench outside of a movie theatre. Clientele, mostly teenagers, left the late showing and found him.\" Adam saw Jeri cringe at his words, even though she knew the details as well as he did. It amazed him that such a sensitive soul would chose a career dealing with the worst of humanity. But she was also tough as nails, he reminded himself. The FBI is lucky to have her.\n\n\"And Angela?\" Jackson asked. He and Cara had not been following the cases as closely as Jeri and Adam.\n\n\"Angela was left on the steps of the county library that serves both Eula and Coker.\" Jeri told them.\n\n\"And Lucy was on top of a picnic table, in a park popular for after-school activities.\" Adam read from the report. \"He likes an audience.\"\n\n\"Look at the topography of his kill zone.\" Jeri interrupted. \"There's nothing larger than two lane roads connecting the towns, and most of the terrain is mountainous. No way could he move quickly from one place to the other.\"\n\n\"There're a lot of hiking trails and back roads in those mountains. Locals would know the best way to maneuver.\" Jackson added.\n\n\"He could be local, or recently local.\" Jeri was pensive. \"I've no doubt that he's done this before. We just have to make the connections.\" She glanced over at Adam. \"Is Lucy's cause of death consistent with Jeffrey and Angela? What about her time of death?\"\n\n\"COD is the same for all three victims. Multiple, excessive stab wounds resulting in exsanguination. He tortures them with shallow incisions for hours before he kills them, removing their eyes, digits and most of their hair. He removes hair from their scalp with what seems to be a dull razor. Multiple abrasions and extensive bruising indicate prolonged beatings. When he's through toying with them, he stabs them in, or near, every major organ.\" Adam took a breath. \"There's no sign of sexual activity on any of the victims. No word yet on Lucy's TOD from the Medical Examiner. The other ME reports state that Jeremy died less than an hour before he was found, and Angela died approximately two hours before she was found.\"\n\n\"So he's not a pedophile, at least not overtly. He's getting off on the pain he's inflicting on the children, their parents, and the community.\" Jeri moved from the window to the table and back again. \"A true thrill killer.\"\n\nThe phone on the center of the table beeped. \"The plane's ready, Ms. Forbes.\" The woman's crisp delivery broke into the room.\n\n\"Thanks, Janet. Alright everyone, let's move.\" Jeri stuffed her tablet into her briefcase, grabbed her jacket and led the way.\n\nThe Littles is available from your favorite ebook retailer.\n\n**If you enjoyed the story, please leave a review, no matter how brief. Thank you. For excerpts of my other works and for details of upcoming novels and purchase links visit my website,** http://www.TallulahGrace.com **. Take a look at the Flashy Shorts page to read short stories and flash fiction created just for my fans.**\n\n**Visit** this page **to subscribe to my newsletter and be the first to learn of new releases, contests and giveaways.**\n\nTitles by Tallulah Grace\n\n### Romantic Suspense with a Paranormal Twist\n\n### Timeless Trilogy, Book One, Fate\n\nIs precognition a prescription for happiness or disaster?\n\nThe good things in life are coming together for Kristina Collins. She's found her ideal home, her career is on track for mega success and the man of her dreams has finally come back into her life.\n\nIn Fate, the first installment of the Timeless Trilogy, Kris Collins discovers the benefits and risks of having precognitive visions while being stalked by a serial killer. Her friends can't help her, the FBI can't save her; she must save herself.\n\nThe Timeless Trilogy heroines, Kristina, Veronica and Cassandra, each deal with paranormal abilities as they discover and rediscover eternal love.\n\n### Timeless Trilogy, Book Two, Spellbound\n\nVeronica Myers is an herbalist with a potent talent that takes her by surprise. Follow Roni's perilous journey as she discovers her authentic self in spite of forces that seek to steal her power and manipulate her destiny. Along the way, true love offers protection if she can only recognize and accept its magic.\n\n### Timeless Trilogy, Book Three, Destiny\n\nCassandra Locke's dreams have the clarity of remembrances, the pain of love lost and the essence of future connections. Who is the man that haunts her, nearly every night? Could they truly have been lovers throughout centuries past? Where is he now? Will they have another chance?\n\n### Cliffs of Starsdale\n\n### Stories of Starsdale, Book One\n\nSeeking a fresh start after her mother's death, Chelsea Bates lands in the picturesque town of Starsdale, California. Nestled amid the peaks of the High Sierras, Starsdale defines the term 'small town' with its mish mash of well-meaning residents who always seem to know everyone else's business.\n\nThe one thing no one knew, could not have predicted, was the evil lurking beneath the surface of Chelsea's ex-fiancé. Preston Beecher follows her to Starsdale with the intentions of taking everything she owns, including her life. Will Preston destroy her dreams before they begin, or will bonds forged in a small mountain town be the pathway to her future?\n\nChelsea's attempts to put the past behind her leads to a new partnership with one of Starsdale's most respected citizens, John Mills, a man who harbors secrets and an agenda of his own. With the help of John and his talented son, Mac, Chelsea turns a dilapidated building into a bed and breakfast showcase.\n\nJoin Chelsea as she learns the ways of a small town in this, the first book in the Stories of Starsdale Series.\n\n### Precipice\n\n### Stories of Starsdale, Book Two\n\nStanding on the edge of insanity, one man's quest for vengeance threatens the love and lives of a couple torn apart by secrets.\n\nIn Precipice, Book Two of the Stories of Starsdale, Sharon and JB deal with old heartaches and fresh guilt as they find their way back to each other. Neither one realizes that the biggest danger they must face hides beneath the masque of friendship.\n\n### Cascade\n\n### Stories of Starsdale, Book Three\n\nJade Kingsley had run out of options. Surviving a disastrous marriage, and subsequent divorce, her life had dwindled to not much more than a shadow existence within the four walls of her tiny apartment. When her friends, Robert and Dana, invite her to move to Starsdale, she packs up and takes a chance on a new life.\n\nNothing could have prepared her for the spellbinding attraction she feels for Justin Devereaux, a friend of Robert's with plans to develop Starsdale. Jade and Justin discover that, sometimes, love is a free-fall; the only choice you have is to go along for the ride.\n\nRomance is not the only thing in store for Justin and Jade. Will an ordinary business trip turn deadly, ending their chance for happiness? Lives balance precariously as Mother Nature unleashes an unexpected storm, threatening to change relationships in Starsdale forever.\n\n## Psychological Thrillers\n\nCasanova Killer\n\nAn SSCD Crime Thriller\n\nCatching the eye of a delusional serial killer known as the Casanova Killer signals the end for certain beautiful young women of San Francisco. True to his name, Casanova offers the women a taste of romance and unparalleled adoration before sending them to a bloody death.\n\nThe FBI Special Serial Crimes Division, SSCD, sets a trap for the killer with one of their own as bait. Agent Jerry Forbes pairs with Interpol's Ethan Barnes to capture Casanova before another woman falls prey to his charms.\n\nJerry and Ethan soon discover that pretending to be lovers may be more dangerous than catching a killer. Follow their story from the moment they set up house to the abrupt end that Jerry does not see coming.\n\nIs it love or certain death?\n\nThe Littles\n\nAn SSCD Crime Thriller\n\nThe mountains of rural Georgia will never be the same after a series of vicious murders rock the area to its core. Not only does the killer target children, his gruesome murders are designed to inflict the ultimate agony upon their parents and to instill extreme terror within the small communities.\n\nAn SSCD team, part of the FBI's Special Serial Crimes Division, accepts the case and the conditional Governor's liaison, a prosecutor with more baggage than anyone realizes. Travel with them over the hills of the mystical Blue Ridge Mountains as they hunt the psychopath stalking the innocent. Can they capture him before he strikes again? Will he turn the tables and ensnare one of their own in his devious trap?\n\nThis psychological thriller delves into the mind of a deranged serial killer as it follows the twists and turns of an SSCD manhunt. Action packed and filled with suspense, The Littles takes readers on a thrill ride they will not soon forget.\n\nBayou Butcher\n\nAn SSCD Crime Thriller\n\nHaunting memories of an imperfect childhood shadow Agent Jeri Forbes, a unit leader in the FBI's prestigious Special Serial Crimes Division, as she stalks the man responsible for slaughtering families along a sleepy Louisiana bayou. Jeri soon learns that the man her team hunts is the puppet of a much more insidious serial killer intent on a personal quest to destroy Jeri's life and that of her lost love, Ethan Barnes.\n\nFollow this fast-paced thriller through the swamps of the Louisiana low-country as Jeri and her team match wits against a brilliant master of destruction and his all-too-willing protégé.\n\nAnson\n\nAn SSCD Crime Thriller\n\nThe twisted reign of a deranged serial killer threatens the low-country of South Carolina. Amid sweet magnolias, giant live oaks and ocean breezes, he stalks the heart of a close-knit family circle, seeking vengeance for his dead brother.\n\nFBI agent Jeri Forbes and Interpol's Ethan Barnes are all too familiar with the madman's mission of terror. Together, they tracked him through the bayous of Louisiana, barely escaping with their lives.\n\nAs Anson brings the game to Charleston, Jeri and Ethan team up with old friends in an effort to catch the killer. Old friends become new targets for Anson's revenge; no one is safe from retribution.\n\n### NOVELLA:\n\n### Trapped in Spaulding Manor\n\nA Haunting Tale of Love Never Lost\n\nElizabeth and Mortimer Spaulding never imagined spending such a short time in their dream home, Spaulding Manor. More than a century after losing her beloved husband, Elizabeth still searches for Mortie through the stately hallways of the antique Victorian.\n\nDelia Foster loves the old mansion, but has no inclination towards the level of commitment the house demands. She also knows that it will take a special person to embrace the home's peculiarities, including the very vocal ghost of the original owner. Devlin Foxe has little tolerance for ghost stories, even if the storyteller makes his blood run hot.\n\nOne fateful night in Spaulding Manor gives Devlin cause to reevaluate his beliefs and Delia reason to rethink her solitary life.\n\n", "meta": {"pile_set_name": "BookCorpus2"}}
{"text": " \n2084\n\nMason Engel\n2084\n\nPublished by Mason Engel at Amazon\n\nCopyright 2017 Mason Engel\nThis story was directly inspired by \"1984\" and \"Brave New World\" by George Orwell and Aldous Huxley respectively. So here's to them: for doing it first and infinitely better.\n\nPart I – The Seclusion\nChapter 1 – Lenses\n\nThe students stood from their seats with eyes bleached bone-white and pupils printed with tiny black timers. They waited for the morning simulation to fade, taunted by the downward tick of intermission, and then started for the hall.\n\nVincent Smith was the first and most frantic among them. His hands trembled and flexed into fists. His ears pounded from the throb of his heartbeat, from the vibrating shudders of his hoarse inhales.\n\nHe entered the restroom and locked the door. He crossed to the mirror with sweat beading hot on his upper lip, and as his whole body began to quiver, he leaned forward and slipped out his contacts. The things flickered with the usual trademark text: _Lenses, a Newsight product_ , and went white.\n\nHe felt the air open up around him, felt his breathing return to normal. The sensation would remain as long as he kept his gaze from the glass screens in his palm. The mere sight of the vile things brought bile to the back of his throat. Wearing them, had they not been required for the classroom sims, would have been unbearable.\n\nSomeone outside tried the restroom door, but Vincent didn't flinch. None of his classmates could need these precious moments of privacy more than he did. _They_ could retreat to their homes to detach their Lenses, unsurveilled and utterly alone. He, on the other hand, had no such luxury.\n\nThere was more impatient twisting of the knob.\n\nHe sighed. Even the school's lack of Lens-monitoring couldn't grant him time to himself. The packed classrooms and overlapping intermissions seemed contrived against isolation. A constant, nagging presence of prying eyes was the result, and it haunted him like an unshakable dark shadow.\n\nAfter reinserting his Lenses, he stepped out of the restroom and held the door for the next occupant: a prim, surly-looking boy whose frail frame appeared somewhat absurd under the baggy white uniform that clothed it. The boy's overalls, the legs of which would have fit snugly around Vincent's arms, were held up almost exclusively by the thin suspenders that hung from his shoulders.\n\n\"Of course the simulations say that,\" came a voice from behind them.\n\nBrian, a tall and articulate boy who seemed always to command his classmates' ears, stood down the hall preaching to his usual admirers.\n\n\"But the Senate recordings tell a different story. The government has no idea how to stop the bombings.\"\n\n\"And you think Newsight does?\" asked one of the listeners.\n\n\"My mom thinks so,\" said Brian. \"With the right data, at least. She says the new Lenses can...\"\n\nHe trailed off when he spotted Vincent walking by within earshot. He paused for a moment, the other boys still hanging on his final word, then resumed at a volume too soft to overhear.\n\nVincent passed by unfazed. His classmates knew his father's status as a Senator, and they knew the heightened Lens surveillance that entailed. Even in school, where his sights and sounds were solely his own, they never risked a conversation with him, much less a friendship.\n\nTurning from them, he quickened his pace until he was back in the classroom. Most of the class was already seated, tucked with obedient stillness in their wraparound white desks, their feet fixed like tree roots to the seamless white tile, and their Lenses and eyes behind glued to the undecorated white wall ahead.\n\nVincent took his seat near the back – though not quite as near as he would have liked – and felt himself sink into his chair as if pressed from above. The room's domed ceiling was far higher than necessary, but to Vincent it seemed to hang just a few inches too low.\n\nMrs. Farring, a terse, elderly woman whose age had cost her none of her straight-postured frame, entered the room through a door behind her desk. Almost simultaneously, the frail boy from the restroom entered through the door in the wall opposite. Brian and the others followed close behind him.\n\n\"This is an important afternoon,\" began Mrs. Farring in her sharp, shrill voice. \"Today, we begin an updated examination of the Order.\"\n\nVincent groaned under his breath. He had heard the story countless times before. His father and the rest of the Senate had been working against the Order for years. Every night, it seemed to Vincent, he received yet another lesson on the Order's history or its most recent attack.\n\nHe glanced around the class, hoping perhaps just once he would find someone to share in his boredom, but the only expression he could find that wasn't completely blank was the stern, scolding one worn by the girl to his left. When she saw he had noticed her, she huffed in disapproval, then turned from him so fast her dark ponytail swung around like a whip.\n\n\"Which is even more important...\"\n\nVincent straightened automatically when he felt Mrs. Farring's gaze.\n\n\"... today.\" She enunciated these last two syllables with her eyes still on Vincent. \"Now,\" she continued after a pause, turning to the rest of the class, \"I have already invited you to the simulation. Please engage.\"\n\nThere was movement around the room for the first time as heads changed orientation, tilting this way or that in time with the flitting of eyes under Lenses. Vincent followed suit, glancing down at the small message lain over the bottom part of his vision, and the classroom disappeared. For a brief moment he could see nothing but the emblem of Newsight – the white, rotating outline of an eye – as the simulation prepared to launch. When the eye disappeared, its dark backdrop was replaced by the typical white. Vincent spun around in his seat – they were in the usual classroom sim, one that depicted a room much like where their bodies resided, only in this room if he turned his head quickly enough, he could see the walls being rendered from minuscule black pixels.\n\nMrs. Farring stood by a massless screen entitled _A History of the Order_. \"Let us begin.\"\n\nVincent disengaged without hesitation, keeping his left Lens active to stay present in the sim, and he was back in the actual classroom. Mrs. Farring was too busy leading the lesson to pay him any mind, and his classmates, if they had ever noticed him at all, were even less aware of him now.\n\n\"Fifty years ago,\" began Mrs. Farring, \"shortly after the Newsight Corporation's invention of Lenses, the Order was founded as a Newsight protest group. Their hand in nuclear politics resulted in the closing of borders around the world, stunting Newsight's growth at the cost of national isolation. Ever since, their methods have...\"\n\nVincent let her voice fade. Ruthless air strikes on Newsight factories became air strikes on wearers of Lenses, became air strikes on anything that moved or breathed without protection. The story was always the same.\n\nVincent settled deeper into his seat. He was about to pull up a sim of his own to pass the time, when he paused. His eyes had been drawn to the girl sitting just in front of him. Her head wobbled at the neck, almost floating as it turned back and forth, now and then staring at a wall off to the side instead of at the front of the room. In the simulation, of course, she was undoubtedly facing forward, but the Lenses had a curious way of placing the wearer's body and mind out of sync. Vincent looked around at the rest of the room and saw evidence of much the same: heads were turned in odd directions; mouths hung slightly agape. Even those eyes he managed to catch didn't see him, but rather passed right over him, beholding some projected element of the sim.\n\nEntranced now, Vincent rotated in his seat to take in the rest of the room and started when he noticed the girl to his left. She was staring at him – though not really. Her bottom lip hung separate from its counterpart, and her eyes were completely relaxed and unseeing in their sockets. Her flat-featured face had a subtle, tapestry-like glow and stretched a bit broader than average, as if the artist's brush had wandered half a stroke too wide.\n\nThe girl turned from him, swiveling in the opposite direction until she faced the far wall. Vincent turned as well, already bored. Even the simulation's redundant facts about the Order would be more interesting than his blank-faced peers. But as he began engaging his Lenses, he caught another set of eyes, only these were definitely not vacant. Brian, too, had exited the simulation, and now, instead of on the video, his eyes were trained on Vincent. Vincent stared back, too shocked to look away, then – or perhaps not; it happened too quickly to be certain – Brian flashed a grin, and his eyes went blank.\n\nMrs. Farring's voice came back into focus from the sim. \"The Order has protested every Newsight attempt to collect consumer data, and they have done so with increasing violence.\"\n\nShaken for some reason, Vincent broke gaze from Brian and reengaged his Lenses, greeted by gruesome footage of hospitals overflowing with blood-drenched patients.\n\n\"The last remaining safe havens from the Order's attacks are the isolated communities called Seclusions.\"\n\nThe video changed to an aerial view of their Seclusion, showing its full target board shape. Boxy public buildings and the spider-like sprawl of the Newsight headquarters occupied the bullseye, and hundreds of igloo-shaped house domes lined the rings beyond. From above, however, these distinctions were difficult to discern. The domes, the curved streets along the rings, the straight streets that crossed them – it all gleamed a dead sterile white, blurring and almost disappearing into the paleness of the landscape.\n\n\"The Order's origins as a protest group have been lost in its transition to a full-scale terrorist organization. Its attacks on the cities have...\"\n\nVincent didn't bother stifling his yawn. Perhaps he should have settled for watching his empty-eyed classmates. He was only a few seconds away from letting Mrs. Farring's voice lull him to sleep when he felt something shudder beneath him. He disengaged the sim to check his desk, and the shudder happened a second time.\n\nHe heard a rumbling, distant but growing in volume. Some of the others were beginning to exit their sims as well.\n\nWithout warning, Vincent's desk lurched to the side, airborne for a split second as the entire room shook. The frail boy from the restroom flew from his seat, smacking his temple on the hard edge of the chairback beside him.\n\nVincent's knuckles were white from gripping the edge of his desk. He looked around, this time meeting eyes far more present than before.\n\nA series of words began to scroll across the bottom rim of his Lenses. Mrs. Farring, with her eyes drawn close together as if watching the bridge of her nose, seemed to have received the message as well.\n\n\"We are experiencing an earthquake,\" she recited, her voice monotone as she read. \"The students will take shelter until further notice.\"\n\nThe rumbling started again, louder this time, definitely louder. Mrs. Farring raised her voice only to be joined by a high, whistling shriek.\n\n\"The structural integrity of—\"\n\nThere was a resounding boom and the entire class lurched upward. Mrs. Farring was thrown from her feet, and Vincent from his chair – along with the rest of his classmates. Instinctively, Vincent pulled himself back to his desk, underneath it this time, not bothering to climb up into it. The others did the same, their soft features contorted with terror, their vacant interest in the sim forgotten.\n\nThe room shook once again, more violently this time. Vincent lost his hold on the closest leg of his desk. He scrambled back toward it—\n\nThe room went dark, and the shake of the floor went still. Vincent froze where he was, held immobile by the abruptness of the silence, eyes scouring lightless veils of pitch black. It was several seconds before Mrs. Farring called out to them. \"Everyone,\" she said – there was some rustling as she felt around in the darkness for her desk – \"the lights are on, but your Lenses are not. You will have to take them out.\"\n\nVincent didn't move. He didn't remember ever having taken out his Lenses in public.\n\n\"All of you,\" said Mrs. Farring, sharper than before. \"Now.\"\n\nCautiously, and unsure whether or not he was being tested, Vincent reached up to his right eye and removed the Lens covering it. He could see the classroom – cut in half now with the darkness of his left eye – and the eerily black eyes of his classmates. He took out his second Lens, and Mrs. Farring became visible in her usual spot.\n\n\"Would you rather walk around blind?\" she snapped at them.\n\nThe rest of the class hesitated for a moment, as if considering these options. Then, slowly, they began lifting their hands to their eyes.\n\n\"The network must have been compromised by the earthquake,\" continued Mrs. Farring. \"I will check with the neighboring classrooms to see if they are experiencing the same problem. Stay put.\"\n\nShe glared at them a moment longer before turning on her heel and disappearing through the far door. She need not have worried, though; no one budged. The class seemed incapable of movement without their Lenses. Even Vincent, who reveled in every second he could spend with naked eyes, remained still. For as he stared down at his contacts, at the complete black of their glass surface, he knew with a blood-chilling dread that someone was staring back.\n\n* * * * * *\n\n\"I'm glad you're safe, son.\"\n\nVincent could feel his father's stare from across the table, but he kept his attention on the tasteless soft food in front of him.\n\n\"Vincent?\"\n\nVincent humored him with the obliged glance of gratitude, then returned to his meal.\n\n\"Thank goodness no one was hurt,\" said Vincent's mother. Her voice carried even less emotion than her husband's had. The tone sounded off to Vincent – he was positive he had heard a more animated version of it. And before Newsight's initiative to record Senators at home as well as at work, perhaps he had, but that would have been prior to their move to the Seclusion. Those memories, some ten years old now, were faint and fading quickly. The only thing he remembered with any clarity was a lack of white. Not in the way of darkness, simply not in the stifling way it existed in the Seclusion. Even in their own dome, in the curved walls all the way to the ceiling, in the bare, perfectly uncluttered tile floor, it followed them. It was present in every room without exception, especially in the room they occupied now. A kind of hybrid between a small kitchen, a dining area, and an area where one might sit to engage one's Lenses, the Main was high-ceilinged and perfectly round but for two bedrooms linked to its perimeter. It played host to their nightly meal, at which Vincent now so painfully sat. Of course, even dinner was preferable to afterward when the table would sink back into the floor, the chairs would be spaced wider, and his parents would invite him to share a simulation.\n\n\"You should be grateful, Vincent,\" said his father. \"The cities had it much worse.\"\n\n\"They felt it?\" asked Vincent, surprised – the cities were said to be hundreds of miles away.\n\n\"They felt it the same as us. They were targeted as well.\"\n\nVincent's mother dropped her fork on her plate. \"Father.\"\n\nFather opened his mouth then closed it again. He cast Vincent a nervous look.\n\n\"Targeted?\" said Vincent. \"By the earthquake?\"\n\nFather hesitated, looking across the table at his wife. Her stare was reproachful but she said nothing. Father let out a breath and turned back to Vincent. \"It was an attack,\" he said. \"From the Order.\"\n\n\"The Order? But they've never even gotten close to a Seclusion.\"\n\n\"They've never had this kind of help.\"\n\n\" _What_ kind of help?\"\n\n\"We're not sure. Maybe foreign.\"\n\n\"Father.\" It was Mother again, though not as collected as before. Father, seeming not to hear her, continued with a musing quality to his voice, as if thinking aloud.\n\n\"That's improbable, of course. The national borders have shut off the rest of the world for decades. We don't even know if there still _is_ a rest of the world. It's more likely whatever help the Order received came from within.\"\n\n\"What do you mean from with—\"\n\n\"That,\" said Mother, glowering at them, \"is enough. Newsight would never let the Seclusion of their own headquarters be jeopardized. We are safe, and the Senate remains in command of the network.\" She gave Father a prompting look. He nodded in strained agreement, and as he did, Vincent could see the rim of a Lens on his right eye. The Senators had been given early access to the newest model. Their Lenses, it seemed, had been unaffected by the blackout.\n\n\"And anyway,\" continued Mother, \"things will be back to normal soon. The recall has already begun, according to Mrs. Tilly.\"\n\nFather perked up at the name. \"Your friend in Incubation?\"\n\n\"The one with the Newsight husband. She told me today the recall is already in process. Everyone will be shipped the newest model within the week, even the cities.\"\n\nFor a fraction of a second, Vincent saw something novel on his father's face. There was an upward twitch of his brow, a widening of his eyes, a slight parting of his lips, and then nothing.\n\n\"That is quite generous of them,\" he said.\n\n\"Mr. Fatrem has always been that way.\" Mother spoke with an exaggerated smile, as if afraid to mention the name of Newsight's CEO without it. \"Mrs. Tilly _did_ say something about an adjustment period, though, so not sleeping in the new model won't be an option.\" She shot Vincent a look, less admonishing, it seemed, than pleading. Vincent avoided her gaze, cheeks prickling with guilt.\n\n\"Speaking of Mrs. Tilly,\" said Father, \"you might tell her I'm a bit cross with the Newsight lobbyists at the moment.\"\n\n\"How so?\" said Mother, frowning.\n\n\"They've been pushing harder than ever for their bill. It comes to the floor tomorrow.\"\n\n\"They're appealing the regulations again?\"\n\nFather nodded. \"All of them this time. Many of the cities have already conceded. In return, Newsight uses the data to fight the Order. In those cities, the attacks _have_ decreased, but the tradeoff...\" He shook his head, in danger of exposing a real expression again. \"It's just—\"\n\n\"Worth it.\" Mother forced a grin, curling her grip around her fork with white knuckles. \"Is there any discussion?\"\n\n\"Some,\" said Father, speaking a bit slower now. \"But everyone is cooperating. The consensus, for the moment, is against.\"\n\nMother's grip softened. \"Well, whatever you decide, we trust you to make the right decision.\"\n\nFather gave her a weak smile, but his eyes were unassuring. Devoid of confidence or confirmation and emptied of all hint of expression, they showed nothing but the glass of his Lenses.\nChapter 2 – Upgrades\n\nThe next morning, Vincent, huddled into himself against the wind, stepped through the main doors of the school. Instantly, the cold in his muscles gave way to manufactured warmth, and the wintry howling in his ears to excited whispers and shuffling feet. Adjusting to the light of the school's bleached interior, his eyes searched for the source of the sound. In the far corner of the room, a group of his classmates clambered over one another toward a man passing out Lens cases, plastic round envelopes with flickering, screen-like surfaces.\n\nA voice came from somewhere behind him. \"They can't function without their Lenses.\"\n\nVincent turned around, following the words to the brawny, tall boy so used to being followed by the same crowd now gathered in the corner.\n\nBrian smirked. \"I'm surprised they survived the night without them.\"\n\nVincent glanced back at the group still fighting each other for – if Brian was right – their upgrades.\n\n\"They're already here?\"\n\n\"They've been here for a while now,\" said Brian. \"There's been a line ever since the doors opened.\"\n\nVincent continued to watch the crowd push and shove to get closer to the man with the cases. \"You got here early then?\"\n\nBrian shook his head. \"Just a few minutes before you. I didn't have to wait in line. I got the new model as soon as I went home last night.\"\n\nVincent nodded, unsurprised. Brian had a Newsight parent, after all. Then again, many of the students now clambering for their upgrades had such parents. Brian seemed to sense Vincent's confusion.\n\n\"Not all employee families got them early. We only did because of my mom. She's the Head of Product.\" He said this last part as something of a boast, but it seemed to carry genuine pride as well.\n\nVincent said nothing in response. He was about to join the crowd when the main doors opened a few yards off, dousing them with a sharp wave of cold. It was the girl with the dark ponytail. She cast the mob of students a quick glance before stalking past them and down the hall toward the classroom. Brian noticed Vincent looking.\n\n\"Our moms used to work together,\" he said. He sounded resentful anyone should have the privilege.\n\n\"Used to?\" repeated Vincent.\n\n\"Her mom was Head of Product before mine. She was good at it, but she died in a transport crash a year or so after getting the job. Her dad still works for Newsight. He's not nearly as high up as her mom was, but they still get taken care of. Everyone loved her mom.\"\n\nVincent fixed his gaze on the mouth of the hall where the girl had just disappeared. \"What's her name?\" he asked.\n\nBrian watched him, wearing a hint of a grin. \"Why don't you ask her yourself?\"\n\nVincent shot him a look, his cheeks growing hot, then crossed over to the crowd of his peers to pick up his new Lenses.\n\n* * * * * *\n\nVincent blinked several times in quick succession as he dropped the second Lens onto his free eye. He squinted at himself in the restroom mirror. The new Lenses felt a bit thicker than before. The distortion, though undetectable, felt heavier now, like he had traded a cotton blindfold for a leaden one.\n\nFor proper adjustment, please do not remove your new Lenses for the first three days.\n\nThe words scrolled across the Lens case twice before he could read them fully. Afterward, he tried to shift his left Lens with his index finger – he didn't like the idea of sleeping in the things – but it felt already fixed in place, held there as if by suction. He breathed out, heavily, and then yawned in the same breath. He had lain in bed last night with his mind spinning like a top, turning over and over again his father's troubled expression during dinner. Now, the Lenses would make sleep even more elusive.\n\nThree small white numbers at the bottom of his vision began to blink: 8:00. He was about to be late.\n\nMoments later, just as Mrs. Farring was stepping through the door at the front of the class, Vincent lowered himself into the nook of his desk.\n\n\"Good morning, everyone.\"\n\nThe class responded in kind. Vincent called out habitually with them.\n\n\"We were cut short yesterday, so we won't waste any time this morning. You should receive my invitation shortly.\"\n\nAs the words left her mouth, a message began scrolling across Vincent's Lenses. Another sim. A second yawn rose up in Vincent at the thought, but he caught it halfway through when he noticed Mrs. Farring's eyes on him. The rest of the class, however, seemed all too eager to test out their upgraded devices. Expressions went blank faster than usual, and heads began to drift. Still under the careful inspection of Mrs. Farring, Vincent glanced down twice, and the classroom rematerialized in almost the exact fashion as he had just seen it. Admittedly, far closer to exact than had been managed by the previous Lenses.\n\nThe video screen was already hanging in mid-air at the front of the room, its picture frozen at some long-winded title, the first words of which made Vincent slouch in his seat.\n\n\"We'll pick up the Order simulation where we left off,\" said Mrs. Farring. \"Today, we'll be covering the Order's presence in the cities.\"\n\nVincent straightened slightly at this. He had never seen the cities before. Perhaps he would stay in the sim today after all.\n\nBut when the video began, with footage of a politician giving a particularly dry speech in the Senate, Vincent knew he would see nothing of the cities. It had been a fanciful hope to begin with.\n\nSighing, he leaned back and disengaged his right Lens. His head had been left facing forward and, for a second, the room was split seamlessly in two between the simulation and the real thing. Though now, seeing the two side by side, Vincent could easily have forgotten which was which; so closely had the sim recreated its mark. He chanced a look at Brian, half expecting, half hoping to see the other boy disengaged as well, but Brian was looking in the opposite direction, his eyes glazed with the telltale vacancy of the sim. Vincent turned to the dark-haired girl to his left; she, too, was fully engaged.\n\nHe yawned once again, not bothering to hide it this time. Mrs. Farring always ended up watching the sim the same as everyone else. She wouldn't notice him. Taking care to position himself out of view, he settled his face into his hands and began to listen.\n\n\"... only when the Order began dropping their warnings did Newsight take action. Stating it as their civic duty to protect the threatened, Newsight now provides defense networks to several major cities. These cities have consequently seen a drastic decrease in Order attacks, leading to a great migration by those seeking refuge from the Order. However, the Order's insatiable appetite for destruction leads them again and again to the unprotected outskirts. Where once families and children lived, there now are only ruins.\"\n\nVincent's pre-Seclusion memories began to pry their way out of the dark again. He remembered short square buildings with pointed roofs and none of the gentle curves of the Seclusion domes. He remembered the pungent smell of air not quite clean, of a thick black fog that clung to the clouds like a sticky film. And he remembered the towers, slender and dark rising up from black streets, reflecting rays of light with story-height windows...\n\nHe was gone from the classroom, standing instead on a tar-repaired street, in front of a small brown house with a slanted roof. Behind the house were the towers, shadowed in gray light and fogged by clouds that clung jealously to their edges.\n\nHis feet carried him to the front door of the house, then through it. The entryway was floored not with tile but with wood. The air was warm but not stifling, cooled by a slight breeze through open windows.\n\nHe closed the door behind him and stepped deeper inside. The space opened up into a joint kitchen and dining room, then into a larger area with comfortable-looking chairs around a giant black screen.\n\n\"Vincent?\"\n\nTo his right, a woman with a sharply sloped nose and wide, bright eyes stood with her hands on her hips. It took him a moment to recognize the woman out of her usual, collared white uniform.\n\n\"Mother?\" he heard himself say.\n\n\"Will you set the table for us, please?\" she said. \"For four. Grandpa is coming.\"\n\nVincent felt his head nod up and down. Mother smiled at him.\n\nThe next moment, Vincent was laying the last of the silverware on the table, a napkin under each set. There was movement behind him in the hall.\n\n\"Is it ready?\"\n\nFather – more recognizable than his wife – walked up behind Vincent and clapped him on the back. He sat down in the chair closest to the kitchen.\n\n\"Coming,\" said Mother. She was pulling something from the oven. \"I'm trying to find more dishes for you to do.\"\n\nFather threw up his hands in mock despair. He rolled his eyes, and as they moved, Vincent could see no outline against their surface, no miniscule rim of glass to skirt the iris. Father wasn't wearing Lenses.\n\n\"Vincent?\"\n\nA third voice was calling for him from down the hall. It was kind, like his mother's, but male, and old.\n\n\"Vincent?\"\n\nVincent stood from his seat.\n\n\"Vincent!\"\n\nVincent's eyes snapped open and he was back in the classroom. Everyone was staring at him.\n\nHe turned self-consciously in his seat. He caught Brian's eyes and was met only with a vague, unreadable look of curiosity. He turned to the girl with the dark ponytail, and at once, from the intensity of her gaze, felt as transparent as glass.\n\n\"Vincent.\"\n\nVincent whipped around to face the front of the room where Mrs. Farring stood, simmering.\n\n\"You will stay after school to finish your simulation,\" she said. \"Is that understood?\"\n\nVincent blinked several times to clear the sleep from his eyes. He shrank into himself as the expression of his classmates turned to amusement. \"Yes, ma'am,\" he said.\n\n\"Good. Now, everyone else, we'll take our break a few minutes early.\" Without another word, she turned from them and disappeared through what seemed to be her own personal door. The rest of the class stood as well, starting for the door in the wall opposite. Vincent rose reluctantly with them.\n\n\"You should be more careful, you know.\"\n\nBrian had crossed over to him through the crowd. Vincent didn't meet his eyes.\n\n\"If you're going to fall asleep,\" said Brian, \"do it in the sim. That's what my brother always told me.\"\n\nVincent looked up at this. He glanced around the class.\n\n\"He doesn't go to school here anymore,\" said Brian. \"He's older, anyway.\" He glanced down at the desk where Vincent had just been sitting. \"You were talking, you know.\"\n\nVincent shifted uneasily where he stood. \"What was I saying?\"\n\n\"Nothing really. Just telling someone you were on your way.\" Brian glanced around them. He lowered his voice. \"You _should_ be careful, though,\" he repeated. \"Dreams are hard to hide.\"\n\nIn Brian's expression on these last words, Vincent could see the same shadow of a look he had seen during the sim the day prior, and something beyond it that seemed to leave words unsaid.\n\nBrian turned away, and as Vincent watched him go, his breaths began to grow shorter. His Lenses felt suddenly tighter against his pupils. He started for the restroom.\n\nThe door was locked when he tried it. He knocked impatiently, and kept knocking until the boy inside stepped out.\n\n\"Just wait your—\"\n\nVincent pushed past him and pulled the door shut as he went, eyes more constricted than usual, as if his Lenses' stranglehold had been pulled all the way taut.\n\nComposing himself, he crossed over to the sink and leaned forward so his right eye, with its lid pulled all the way up, was within inches of the mirror. He dragged his index finger across the surface of the Lens, as he had done so many times before, but nothing happened. He tried again, pressing a little harder so his eye throbbed from the force, and still the Lens remained. He paused with his gaze trained on his pale reflection, then blinked several times and tried his left eye – nothing. Frowning, and sweating now, he moved yet closer to the mirror. He opened his eyes wide and inspected the white area just beyond the grayish green of his irises. He saw the rims of his Lenses the same as usual, but, amidst the irritated, spindly lines of blood next to them, he saw something else. Another set of lines, ones not his own, and nearly undetectable, stretched out from the edge of the glass and curled back under his eyelids. He shifted closer for a better look, only for his vision to go white with the time – two minutes until the next session. He sank at the shoulders, half blinded by the intrusive digits, and let out a breath. His inspection would have to wait for the afternoon.\n\nHe pushed out into the hall, but before he could start for class, he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. At the end of the passage, Brian was walking rather quickly in the opposite direction, hunched over at the waist, perhaps feigning nausea to get out of the sim. Vincent, knowing Mrs. Farring would be watching him closer than usual, resisted the urge to follow and turned instead for the classroom, nearly running straight into the girl with the ponytail.\n\n\"Sorry,\" he mumbled. He expected her to twist around in her normal whipping motion, but she didn't. She stayed where she was, inspecting him with keen, wide eyes.\n\n\"I tried to take mine out, too,\" she said, her gaze trained on Vincent's irritated right eye. \"I couldn't get them out either.\"\n\nVincent started to raise a hand to his face, then caught himself. \"I guess we're not supposed to be able to. They said we're not supposed to take them out for a few days.\"\n\n\"We're also not supposed to tune out of our sims,\" she countered. \"But you do _that_ anyway.\"\n\nVincent felt a heat beginning to kindle under the skin of his cheeks. He glanced over the girl's shoulder at the open door of the classroom, longing, even, for the discomfort of his desk.\n\n\"How do you know that?\" he asked.\n\n\"I can tell. I tune out, too. When I do it, though, I try not to make it too obvious in case Mrs. Farring is watching. You, on the other hand, never hide it at all.\" She paused. Her inspection of him continued. \"You watch me sometimes. A lot of times, actually.\" She said the last part without much expression, as if stating the obvious. Lips parting in shock, Vincent tried to stammer some excuse, but nothing seemed to come. The girl grinned.\n\n\"Come on,\" she said, flicking her head toward the classroom. \"We've still got all afternoon.\" Without hesitation, and with far more confidence than Vincent could have mustered, she grabbed his hand and pulled him along behind her. His full attention now focused on the girl, Vincent almost failed to notice the whistling sound coming from above. Within seconds, though, the sound was undeniably loud. No rumbling to precede it this time, the whistle grew to a blood-curdling shriek. The girl looked up just as it crescendoed in a deep, ear-splitting boom. The ceiling above them cracked down the middle, leaking dust from above.\n\nThere was silence then. They were still, the girl's eyes fixed on the ceiling – Vincent's fixed on her.\n\nThen they were flying backward, propelled by a skin-searing heat, a vague sense of flames licking at their backs, a deafening blast, the smoke forced deep into their lungs.\n\nVincent hit the ground in sync with the girl and skidded a yard from the momentum. He pulled himself into a sitting position, coughing up dust, and stared down the hall. Or, at least, he tried to. It was thick with a brown cloud of smoke and debris. The usually spotless white walls had been coated with grime, and the paint that covered them dripped from the heat of the flames.\n\nA second whistle, shriller this time, sounded overhead. It seemed to snap the girl from her stupor.\n\n\"Come on!\" she said, and she was on her feet, pulling Vincent up with her. \"We need to get back!\"\n\nVincent had barely gotten up when there was another explosion and the ground lurched under them, sending them hurtling into the wall to their right. The heat was much closer behind them now. Getting back to the classroom would be impossible.\n\n\"This way!\" The girl dragged him in the opposite direction, her right hand still curled tightly around his, her face dipped low beneath the smoke.\n\nAs they ran, the ground shook from yet another explosion. This one was followed by screams.\n\nDoors up ahead flew open on either side of the hall. Teachers poked their heads out, their eyes wide with terror.\n\n\"You two!\" one of the teachers shouted from his room. \"Get in!\"\n\nThey started for him but were thrown back yet again when the ceiling caved in between them. Vincent tried to come to a stop, his free hand covering his mouth from the debris, but the girl continued to drag him forward. Just when he thought they would collide with the crumbled ceiling ahead, they dodged right. They had come to the high-ceilinged room that led to the main entrance.\n\nThe girl dropped Vincent's hand and drew her eyes close, as Mrs. Farring had when reading from her Lenses. \"We need to get out of the school.\"\n\nVincent looked through the main doors where the outside air was tinted red. \"Out? Are you sure we shouldn't stay here?\"\n\n\"My dad told me to get home as fast as possible.\"\n\nVincent turned around, staring at the ruined hall they had just been blocked from entering, then in the opposite direction where the blaze had grown even closer, and then once again through the main doors.\n\n\"Vincent,\" the girl said, firmly, but composed. Vincent turned to her, and his periphery seemed suddenly blurred, the smoke and dust and flames blissfully out of focus. The screams, too, sounded muffled and distant. When the girl held out her hand, Vincent hardly heard the explosion that sounded somewhere behind them. He looked down at the girl's fingers, steady, as they stretched out to him. \"Trust me,\" she said.\n\nAnd without thinking, he did.\nChapter 3 – Newsight\n\nThey came to a stop in front of a dome on the second ring. In normal circumstances, Vincent might have been impressed. The prices of domes this close to the Center were astronomical.\n\nThe girl pressed her right eye up close to a palm-sized screen on the door, and a second later she was pulling him inside. Vincent pulled back when he saw the horizon. A streak of gold split through the sky, this one brighter than the rest and with a thicker tail, and headed straight for the school's main dome. It moved with lethargic slowness as it fell, lighting up the whole sky with a blinding glow. The object at the helm of the thing seemed to cut through the sky like a giant blade, its tip pointed resolutely at the last remaining remnant of the school.\n\nIn one final flash, it pierced its mark.\n\nThe dome hesitated, as if unsure what to do, then shrank in at the sides and exploded outward with a giant pulse. The red haze above turned bright pink as the dome was engulfed from without in the same blinding white it had worn within.\n\n\"Vincent.\" The girl's voice was soft, but it had lost its usual calm. \"We need to get inside.\" She tugged on his arm again. \"Come on.\"\n\nWith his eyes still on the horizon, the pinnacle of which now seemed eerily empty, and with the image of the fire-tailed missile still seared into his mind, Vincent let himself be pulled inside.\n\n\"My dad said he'll be here soon.\"\n\nThey were cast into darkness as the girl closed the door behind them.\n\n\"He told us to go to the cellar.\"\n\n\"The what?\" Vincent answered in a trance. His eyes were still trained on the horizon, though all he could see now were the unlit walls of the dome.\n\n\"The cellar,\" repeated the girl, as if that explained things. \"This way.\" She tugged on his hand yet again, but he stayed where he was. The last hour seemed to register in his mind all at once.\n\n\"I need to get home. My mother works in Incubation in the school. She could have been—\"\n\nThe girl caught his wrist when he tried to turn away. \"Incubation is right next to the generators,\" she said. \"It's underground. She's safer than we are.\"\n\nVincent pulled free of her grip. \"I just need to – wait...\" He looked around them, noticing the darkness for the first time – the lights were automatic. \"The power is—\"\n\n\"We don't run off of the Center generators,\" said the girl, withdrawing, as if making a confession. \"We have our own. They probably just shut off from the blast. Besides, the domes in the first ring had lights. The ones in the second did, too. The generators haven't been hit.\"\n\n\"I should still go,\" said Vincent, and he turned away, starting for the exit. The girl didn't stop him this time.\n\n\"Where do you live?\" she called after him.\n\n\"Just a few streets over.\" He was almost to the door.\n\n\"Really,\" said the girl. It wasn't a question. \"I know for a fact you live on the other side of the Center.\"\n\nVincent stopped with his hand on the knob.\n\n\"You won't make it there for hours,\" pressed the girl. \"If you make it at all. They'll send in the Guard. The whole Seclusion will be blocked off.\"\n\nVincent stayed where he was. Everything she said was true – even the parts she shouldn't have known.\n\n\"Wait a second. How do you know where I live?\"\n\nThe girl opened her mouth to answer, then paused, rethinking. \"I... I've seen you leave school before. We always go in opposite directions.\"\n\nVincent lifted his brow. \"So, you've been watching me?\"\n\nEven in the lack of light, he saw the girl's face grow a shade darker.\n\n\"Walk home if you want,\" she said, turning from him. \"I'm going to the cellar.\" Her body was cast into shadow as she started deeper into the unlit dome, but Vincent didn't follow. Not yet.\n\n\"Wait.\"\n\nThe girl paused where she was, sighing as she looked back at him.\n\n\"What's your name?\"\n\n\"Jessica,\" she said. \"Now are you coming or not?\"\n\nWithout waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and started deeper into the dome. Vincent watched her for a moment, then followed.\n\n* * * * * *\n\nFor the next few hours, Vincent and Jessica sat together in a small, underground room hidden beneath the master bed. Vincent answered sporadic messages from his parents, but largely, as insisted upon by his father, he did nothing at all, contenting himself to sit in the strange room in silence. Lit only by old-looking candles, the space lacked any trace of white. Its walls and floor, both damp and soft to the touch, were colored instead a dark, natural brown. No other dome Vincent had been inside had contained anything like it. Though, admittedly, he had been in only a handful.\n\nThe clinking of metal drifted down to them from somewhere above. A second later, the trapdoor swung upward, exposing a shadowed man in its frame.\n\n\"It's safe. You can come up.\"\n\nJessica rose without question. Vincent got to his feet more cautiously.\n\n\"It's okay,\" said Jessica. \"It's my dad.\"\n\nVincent nodded in response, but he wasn't assuaged. A man with an underground room and a dome that ran off of private power didn't call to mind a particularly comforting image.\n\nVincent followed Jessica through the trapdoor and up into the bedroom.\n\n\"In here.\"\n\nThe voice called out again, out of sight this time. They traced its source to the Main, where a short, grubby-looking man with a rounded stomach entered from a door behind the kitchen. As he did, the room brightened from somewhere overhead.\n\n\"Generator's back,\" he said. Vincent looked around with the aid of the lights for the first time. The dome varied greatly from the Seclusion standard. It felt more natural. The dining table actually looked used: strewn with articles of the day and scattered with old books, the likes of which Vincent had seen only in the simulations. Even the walls had been decorated, pinned with framed pictures of the same three people: Jessica, her father, and a woman Vincent didn't recognize.\n\n\"You never said there was someone with you, Jessica.\" The round man who had entered from the kitchen stood next to the dining table, his eyes trained on Vincent with undisguised suspicion. He was short, only just taller than Jessica, with a face as round as his stomach and a nose so wide it must surely have haunted the lower edge of his vision.\n\n\"Vincent, this is my dad,\" said Jessica. \"He's a developer for Newsight. He works on the software that runs our Lenses. Dad, Vincent is a friend from school.\"\n\nLess tense now, but still not taking his dark, beady eyes off of Vincent, Jessica's father extended his hand. Vincent stepped forward to shake it.\n\n\"Simon,\" said the man. \"I trust my Jessica has been taking care of you.\"\n\nVincent nodded.\n\n\"And your parents,\" Simon continued, \"they're safe?\"\n\n\"Yes, sir.\"\n\n\"Do they have a transport?\"\n\n\"No, sir.\"\n\nSimon grunted his disapproval but said nothing back. Jessica broke the silence.\n\n\"Can you take him, Daddy?\" She was still standing next to Vincent, but as she spoke, she stepped closer to Simon.\n\n\"It's really fine,\" said Vincent. \"Jessica has done more than enough already.\"\n\nSimon seemed satisfied by the answer. He turned to Jessica. \"Well you heard the boy. He'll be all right.\"\n\n\"Dad.\" She said the word in a parental kind of tone, almost scolding. Simon sighed in response, then looked away, running a hand through what little hair he had left. After a pause, he turned back to face them.\n\n\"Where do you live?\" he asked.\n\nVincent didn't lie this time. \"Fourth ring on the opposite side of the Center. By Ocean Street.\"\n\n\"Dad, he's even on a cross street,\" said Jessica. Simon turned to her, then back to Vincent. He sighed again, heavier this time.\n\n\"Come on then,\" he said to Vincent, flicking his head. \"Out front.\" He turned and started for the front door.\n\n\"Uh...\" Vincent stayed where he was. \"I'm fine, really. I didn't see a transport out there, anyway.\"\n\n\"I called it around from the garage,\" Simon shot back over his shoulder. He was already at the exit.\n\n\"Go,\" said Jessica. \"It's no trouble. He's always excited to drive.\"\n\n\"Are you sure?\" Vincent watched, unconvinced, as Simon disappeared through the main door.\n\nJessica laughed. It was a pleasant sound, soft and sweet, and a pitch higher than Vincent would have expected.\n\n\"You're fine,\" said Jessica, still smiling. \"You better hurry though.\"\n\nPausing for a beat, Vincent cast her what he hoped to be a confident look, then started for the door. He emerged outside a moment later, where Simon was standing on the left side of a long, two-wheeled white vehicle with an egg-shaped pod set in the middle. It looked barely big enough for two people.\n\n\"Get in,\" said Simon.\n\nHesitant, Vincent stepped forward. He pressed a button on the thing's exterior to open the door and climbed inside. The interior was simple, just two plain seats made of a sleek, slippery kind of material, positioned side by side behind a narrow dash where, in front of Simon, was a series of buttons and controls Vincent had never seen before.\n\n\"Your parents don't drive?\" asked Simon.\n\nVincent shook his head. \"My father doesn't trust transports. He doesn't think Newsight should have them all on the same network.\"\n\n\"Neither do I. The network is what caused my wife's transport accident. This one will always stay off the grid.\"\n\nSimon's eyes gave a twitch under his Lenses, and the transport began rolling forward around the second ring. The ride was almost smooth, and the sounds of the outside were entirely mute, eerily peaceful given the events of the day.\n\n\"Your father,\" said Simon, breaking the silence. \"He's not a fan of Newsight?\"\n\n\"It's not that,\" said Vincent. \"He's just... cautious, I guess.\"\n\nSimon never shifted his eyes from the street ahead, but he didn't quite succeed in masking his interest. \"What does he do?\"\n\n\"He's a Senator.\"\n\nSimon grunted at this. \"Has his hands full at the moment then, I suppose.\"\n\n\"He does, but he'll figure it out. He figures out all the attacks. He'll make the Order pay for this one.\"\n\n\"He still thinks the attack came from the Order?\"\n\n\"He thinks they had help. Maybe even from outside the country.\"\n\n\"We haven't heard a squeak from beyond the borders in years. He and the rest of the Senate should be thinking domestic, not foreign. It's beyond me why they haven't investigated the new litigation.\"\n\nVincent thought back to dinner the night before, to his father's comments about the lobbyists. \"You mean Newsight's data regulations? What's there to investigate?\"\n\n\"What _isn't_ there?\" snapped Simon. \"The government partnership for the new tech, the recall, and now the attack? If they let the bill through after all of that, they're blinder than I thought.\"\n\n\"Blind to what?\"\n\nThey began to decelerate – they had come to a checkpoint of the Guard. A man in all white with his palm raised out in front of him stood in the center of the street, blocking their way. Behind him, a dozen or so more men of the same dress were huddled around the front door of a rather ornate-looking dome.\n\n\"It doesn't matter,\" said Simon, eyes forward. \"The bill will pass, and when it does, everything will be clear.\"\n\n\"Then it doesn't matter if you tell me now,\" said Vincent.\n\nSimon shook his head, wearing a half grin. \"You sound like Jessica.\"\n\nAfter a pause, the Guard in front of them stepped out of the street, and they began to accelerate once again. Vincent held his gaze on Simon. The man was silent, but he had the same look in his eyes Father got when talking about the Order. \"Did your Lenses go out today?\" he asked. \"During the attack?\"\n\nVincent shook his head.\n\n\"But they went out yesterday from a little vibration,\" continued Simon. \"Why do you think that is?\"\n\nVincent shrugged. \"The upgrades are just more resilient, I guess.\"\n\n\"You think Newsight would let their entire system go down from a little turbulence?\" He snorted at the thought. \"If you're as much like Jessica as I think you are, you've tried to take out your new Lenses. Well others have tried, too, and they've come up with the same result you have. No one can take them out. Newsight has released a statement saying it's because of the adjustment period, that the Lenses will be removable in a few days, but I'm not so sure. I don't think there was ever anything wrong with the old Lenses. Fatrem didn't send out a more resilient product; he sent out a more permanent one.\"\n\n\"But why would Newsight want to make the Lenses permanent?\"\n\n\"For the data, obviously. What they collect is most valuable if it's comprehensive. Otherwise, they only see what people want them to.\"\n\n\"And what does any of that have to do with the attack?\"\n\nSimon drove in silence past the next cluster of the Guard, as if to avoid being overheard. \"You can work this out for yourself. Look around. What do you notice?\"\n\nVincent stared out through the oval-shaped windows. \"The Guard. They're going into—\"\n\n\"Not the Guard,\" said Simon, impatient. \"The domes. Who lives in them?\"\n\nVincent hesitated at this, not sure if it was a trick question. \"In the inner rings, mostly people who work for Newsight. Some Senators, too.\"\n\nSimon nodded. \"That's right. But it's not just the inner rings; it's the whole Seclusion. Think about who goes to your school? Who do you have class with?\"\n\nVincent started fumbling for the few names he knew. \"Well there's Jessica and Brian... I think there's a Sam. Or maybe it's...\" He trailed off, painfully aware of how pitiful he sounded. Simon, on the other hand, didn't seem to notice.\n\n\"Right again,\" he said. \"Newsight kids. But more importantly, Senators' kids. Fatrem's Senate recording initiative ten years ago did more than put eyes and ears into Senator homes – it _moved_ their homes, all to a single Seclusion, the same Seclusion where Newsight is headquartered. Why do you think Fatrem would want all of these important people so close to him?\"\n\nVincent ventured a guess he was almost certain would be countered. \"To protect them?\"\n\nSimon snorted. \"Protection has nothing to do with it. It's all about leverage. Fatrem knew the Senate would never go for his bill. Whatever he's asking for in return for stopping the Order must not be worth it. After all, the Senators don't _really_ care about stopping the attacks. All they care about is—\"\n\n\"My father cares,\" Vincent cut in. He wouldn't have been so sure before saying it, but after the words left his lips, he knew them to be true.\n\n\"Maybe he does,\" said Simon. \"But don't be ignorant. The majority of others in the Senate are only there for their paychecks. Fatrem knew that if he wanted to get anything passed to 'fight the Order', the Senators would have to feel the Order for themselves.\"\n\nAs the transport began to turn, twisting along the street around the Center, Simon flicked his gaze toward the window. Confused, Vincent looked out after him. He saw the Capitol where his father worked, the Newsight campus, and the patch of ground where the school should have been – that's what Simon was looking at. Vincent thought back to the hallway when he had run into Jessica. He had seen Brian there, too. Just moments before the attack, the other boy, the son of a Newsight executive, had known to leave.\n\nWhat Simon was implying came to Vincent in a rush.\n\n\"You think Fatrem let the Order's attack through. You think he let the Senators' kids be killed just to get his bill passed.\" The words tasted filthy coming out of his mouth, but Simon seemed to revel in them, his lips sprawling into a satisfied grin.\n\n\"It's looking less like a theory than a fact. But I don't suppose your father shares the same opinion.\"\n\nThe transport rolled to a stop – they had reached Vincent's dome. Both of their gazes came to a rest on the front door, behind which, somewhere inside, was Vincent's father.\n\n\"He hasn't said anything about all that,\" said Vincent, \"but he _has_ said he doesn't think the bill will pass. The Senate is fighting against it. He says there's more cooperation than ever.\"\n\n\"Cooperation?\" Simon repeated the word with his eyebrows raised, his lips curled at the corners. \"There will be nothing of the sort. The bill _will_ pass, and what remains of the Senate will fall.\" He paused here, his tone no longer so gloating, his grin no longer so wide. \"Our only hope lies beyond the borders, in the world we've already condemned. Without them...\" he looked once again at the front door of Vincent's dome, \"... we'll all be just another set of eyes for Newsight.\"\nChapter 4 – The Gray\n\nThe palm-sized screen in front of Vincent's right eye blinked green, and the door slid open. He stepped inside without looking back. Everything Simon said had to be rubbish. It had to. Only now that he was outside of the man's transport did he realize how ludicrous it all sounded. Fatrem was well-respected by everyone. Loved, even, by some. That he would betray his own admirers was beyond the realm of reason.\n\nVincent collected himself and made sure the door had locked behind him. He was in the foyer, a small nook blocked from the rest of the Main and oftentimes the most private place in the dome. Now, though, he wanted privacy far less than he wanted sleep. He stepped through the second door and into the Main. The kitchen and dining area were empty, but there were voices coming from the master bedroom. Suddenly realizing he hadn't paged his parents ahead of time – they loathed surprises – he started composing his mother a message, but as he did, he began to hear the voices more clearly, as well as something in addition to them. It was difficult to distinguish, but it sounded like sobs.\n\nVincent stopped composing his message. Instead, he started with lightened footsteps for his parents' bedroom. He felt himself spied upon by the walls around him as he grew closer, disapproved by the dome itself for sneaking as he was. But something about the sobs told him the normal rules didn't apply.\n\nHe reached the bedroom door which, uncharacteristically, had been left ajar. With breaths as soft and shallow as his lungs would allow, Vincent leaned in close and placed his ear to the gap.\n\n\"It's okay, Father.\" Vincent's mother was almost whispering. \"It was in the moment. You didn't know if he had made it.\"\n\n\"I _did_ know.\" Father's voice was unrecognizable, shaking and weak and lacking its normal calm. \"And I wanted to vote against it, I just...\"\n\nThe sobs started again. They sounded like they came from Father, but Vincent could hardly believe it. He had never heard his father cry, nor, he was convinced, had anyone. It was a thing that didn't happen, that was never _meant_ to happen.\n\nHe peeked his head around the edge of the door and looked inside. Father was sitting on the foot of the bed, still in his collared, snow-colored uniform from the Senate, and Mother was sitting next to him, her right arm draped, a bit awkwardly, around his shoulders.\n\n\"You have nothing to worry about,\" said Mother. \"I'm sure it's for the best.\"\n\nFather shook his head, puckering his lips like a small boy pouting, and lifted his gaze so Vincent could see the red, puffy lumps under his eyes.\n\n\"It's not,\" he said. \"We gave them everything.\"\n\n\"It will be okay,\" said Mother. Father interspersed her words with a series of \"no\"s and head shakes, but she kept on.\n\n\"It's Newsight, after all,\" she said. \"Whatever you gave them, they won't misuse it. We're safe, Father. We can trust them.\"\n\n\"You're not getting it, Sarah.\"\n\nMother recoiled from him, her mouth agape, perhaps from hearing her own name. Vincent had no memory of it being spoken aloud. Nor, really, of the name at all.\n\n\"We can't trust them,\" Father continued. He had lifted his head from his hands, and now Vincent could see him clearly. His face was twisted into an expression Vincent was only slightly more familiar with than the sobs. It bore none of its usual composure, and it just failed to mask the fear underneath. Father's eyes, too, betrayed him, and not only that, they were too red to have been irritated just by the crying. Father had tried to take out his Lenses.\n\n\"I've been feeling different since the upgrade.\" He stared down at his hands, wearing a look of disgust. \"And when we learned of the attack, I was so angry I could barely see straight.\" He looked back up at Mother. \"It's the Lenses, Sarah. I should have realized.\"\n\nMother rubbed Father's back between the shoulder blades, no longer so stiff. \"We'll get through it. You can't be talking like this.\"\n\nFather began to speak again, but he stopped with his mouth still open. He wasn't looking at Mother any longer, but at the door, where Vincent had been just too slow to pull back his head.\n\n\"Vincent.\"\n\nThis was the voice of Father's that Vincent knew: stern and composed, without the wild, breaking fluctuations in pitch.\n\nVincent slid open the door and stepped inside. Father had stood up, seeming taller than usual. \"Come here.\"\n\nVincent stayed where he was, his feet rooted to the tile. He looked from his father to his mother and back again, still trying to decide whether what he had just seen could be real.\n\n\"Vincent,\" pressed Father.\n\nReluctantly, Vincent moved forward until they were only a foot apart. And then Father's arms were around him. It took him a moment to realize what was happening before circling his own arms around Father's back.\n\nWhen they broke apart, from their first embrace in as long as Vincent could remember, Father's jaw was flexed, his teeth clenched down on his tongue. He gave Vincent one last glance, then turned away. Vincent turned to Mother next. She nodded at him, looking somehow stronger than usual, then turned as well.\n\nVincent stepped back in a daze until the door slid shut after him. He was in the Main again, and though it was empty save for him, he no longer felt quite so alone.\n\n* * * * * *\n\nVincent sat straight up in his bed when he heard the crash. The pounding of feet on tile drummed against his skull, and he had barely jumped from his bed when his door burst inward. Two men in uniform rushed in. He scrambled toward his bathroom, but his legs were weak with sleep, and the nearest man was on him with ease. He flailed his arms to break free, only for the second man to pounce as well. In a flash, both of his arms were pinned behind his back, forcing him forward at the waist. The men dragged him with vice-like grips, undisturbed by even his most violent struggles as they hauled him to the Main. Father and Mother were already there, struggling against their own escorts of rough-looking men. And now, in the light, Vincent could see the men clearly. All six wore tight sleeves and collars up their necks like officers of the Guard, but they were clothed not in the normal bleach white, but in a dark, ashen gray. The only trace of white was stitched on their collars: the familiar outline of an eye, the Newsight emblem typically reserved for the simulations.\n\n\"Don't touch my son!\" Father shouted when he saw them. \"Don't you dare touch him!\"\n\nThere were two men holding him, but they could hardly keep control. Wordlessly, the man who had first subdued Vincent crossed over to lend a hand. As Father's escort turned from two to three, he grew still and the Main grew silent. But the calm seemed to have had little to do with the additional captor and more to do with the sounds coming from the foyer. The front door was out of Vincent's line of sight, but he could hear the footsteps crossing through it just the same: slow, deliberate, and ushering in with them a chill that slithered down his spine.\n\n\"Hello, Senator Smith.\" It was a man's voice, but it struck a pitch with each syllable that seemed to hover somewhere outside the normal masculine range.\n\n\"I have desired your audience for some time now. What a thrill it is to finally have it.\"\n\n\"Let my family go,\" said Father.\n\nMore footsteps. The man had stepped closer to Father, and Vincent caught a glance of him for the first time. He was just large enough not to be considered frail. The skin of his face was pulled tightly around narrow cheek-bones. And his features were sharp, his eyes calculating.\n\n\"I would love to,\" the man said. \"But after having their minds filled with your ludicrous theories, they would be as much a liability as you are.\"\n\nFather strained against his captors, spurred on by the man's taunting tone. His eyes were murderous, bloodshot, but the man merely turned away in response, his face contorted with a smug grin.\n\n\"No!\" Father shouted after him, veins protruding in his neck. One of his captors struck him across the jaw for silence. Vincent jerked against his own captor, only to receive a sharp blow to the stomach. He hunched at the waist, his breath stolen.\n\nFather saw the exchange, and something in him seemed to snap. \"Don't you touch him!\" he shouted through blood-speckled lips. \"Let him go!\"\n\nThe men dragged him to the door. He resisted wildly, his fists flying in all directions, mostly striking air but occasionally making contact with flesh. He freed an arm and ripped a club from his nearest captor's hand. He landed a blow on the man's skull with an echoing crack.\n\nOne of Mother's captors left her and joined the fray. Mother kicked the remaining man in the groin. He buckled, and Mother turned, lunging for the man holding Vincent. The man raised an arm to fend her off. Vincent writhed in his grip, wrenched downward with the arm still subdued, and he was free. He turned around to help.\n\n\"Go, Vincent!\" Mother shouted just before the man grabbed her wrists. \"Go!\"\n\nVincent stood frozen to the spot. The man pulled Mother's arms cruelly tight behind her back.\n\n\"Go, son!\" shouted Father, still struggling but barely visible in a mob of gray.\n\nOver the racket, Vincent heard the man Mother had kicked approaching in an uneven gait behind him. He twisted around just in time to dodge the man's arms. He started for the kitchen, his eyes trained on the back door. He sprinted toward it, driven faster by the sound of the man's footsteps close behind. He felt a rush of cold air on his face when he threw the door open, and he kept running. By the time he reached the next ring of domes, his heart pounded in his chest as fast as his feet on the pavement. He chanced a look over his shoulder, then began to slow – the man had given up the chase. Shrinking into the shadow cast by the dome at his back, he leaned up against the wall to catch his breath. His eyes were fixed on the back door of the dome he had just left, where his parents had surely been overwhelmed, and where he had left them to their fate.\n\nIf only to numb himself of the shame rising in his chest, he felt the urge to take off running again, but he stopped when his Lenses flashed white with a message.\n\nAre you awake?\n\nIt was from Jessica. Vincent's urge to run began to falter. He started composing a message back, eyes fumbling over the letters as he went, but he only got halfway through.\n\nThey took my dad.\n\nHe stood stock-still when he saw this second message. He read it twice, hoping in vain its letters would rearrange. If he had started running again, Jessica's dome would have been his destination. Now, that was out of the question.\n\nHe took a deep breath before composing a message back.\n\nMeet me in the second ring. Ocean.\n\nA feeling of dread planted itself low in his stomach as soon as he pressed send. After all, after everything he had learned, it was foolish to use the Lenses to communicate. It would have been decidedly more foolish, however, to let Jessica wander into a ransacked dome, the perimeter of which would surely be monitored.\n\nVincent took off at a jog through the relative darkness between the domes of the fourth and fifth rings, his eyes combing the depths of every shadow he passed. The gleaming white uniforms of the Guard would have been easy to spot. The smoke-colored ones of Newsight, however, would blend much more seamlessly into the night.\n\n* * * * * *\n\nVincent craned his neck around the edge of the dome he hid behind and stared down the cross street toward the Seclusion boundary, half-expecting an army of gray-clad men to emerge from the shadows.\n\n\"Vincent.\"\n\nHe spun around, his muscles tensed to run, but relaxed when he saw Jessica. She had approached around the dome next to him, opposite the street he had been watching.\n\n\"I thought you would come from the other direction.\"\n\nShe shook her head. \"I cut through the Center.\"\n\nVincent cast a nervous look behind her, where, over the nearest ring domes, the first ring and the center inside it were clearly visible, silent and still, but bright.\n\n\"I didn't want to be predictable,\" said Jessica, seeing his look. \"And I made it here, didn't I?\"\n\nVincent said nothing back. Making it, and making it without being detected, were two very different scenarios.\n\n\"Are you ok?\" he asked.\n\n\"I'm fine.\"\n\nVincent didn't contradict her, though he could see, even in the dark, the slight shaking of her hands.\n\n\"When did they come?\" he asked.\n\n\"A few hours after I went to bed. My dad must have been right before yours.\"\n\n\"Did he tell you what he thinks they did?\"\n\n\"He's _been_ telling me. But it's too late to do anything about it.\"\n\n\"It's not too late. People won't let this happen.\"\n\n\"The only thing anyone cares about right now is the school. They want blood, the Order's blood. And Fatrem can tell them exactly where to find it. He can implicate whoever he wants.\"\n\n\"But someone will try to stop him.\"\n\n\"Who?\"\n\nVincent frowned, confused at first, but as he let his eyes wander, scanning the unlit, peaceful domes that lined either side of the ring, he saw what she meant: nowhere was there even the slightest sign of movement.\n\nJessica lowered her voice. \"It's the whole reason for the bill, Vincent. If Fatrem had taken things by force, people would have resisted. This way, he's a hero. He'll take down the Order one by one. But the Order is whoever he says it is. Tomorrow there will be a press release saying our dads were part of it. And then leaders of the Guard will be found guilty. Then politicians. Then the whole Senate.\"\n\nVincent felt the reality sinking in. \"Then there's no one left to stand in the way.\"\n\nJessica looked down, silent. Vincent turned back to the empty street of the second ring. He found himself fixed with a mad desire to run from dome to dome, to pound on doors and tell people the truth, but he knew it wouldn't do any good.\n\nVincent turned his gaze a bit closer, on the first ring where the Newsight families lived, the inevitable heirs to the throne of a revolution, the unopposing. But, Vincent thought, perhaps there was opposition after all.\n\n\"I know where we need to go.\"\n\nJessica turned to him. She, too, had been looking at the Center. \"Where?\"\n\n\"I...\" Vincent trailed off. He didn't realize how ludicrous his theory would sound until it started to leave his mouth, but it was all they had to go on. \"I think I know someone who's fighting against Newsight.\"\n\n\"Really?\" said Jessica, suddenly with a spark of hope. \"Who?\"\n\nVincent paused again. He thought back to the first sim about the Order, the one from which he had completely tuned out. In his survey of the room, there had been only one who had not been engaged. Vincent remembered the way Brian had caught his eye with a grin, ever so faint a grin, before his face had gone blank.\n\n\"Brian,\" he said, and Jessica deflated.\n\n\"Vincent, his mom is a Department Head. Brian is the last person who would help.\"\n\n\"But your dad works for Newsight, doesn't he? And _he_ knew the truth. He wanted to fight. Why does Brian's mom have to be any different? His parents could be—\"\n\n\" _Parent_ ,\" said Jessica. \"It's just his mom.\" She took a breath to say something else, then hesitated, the pocket of air catching in her throat, held there by words she hadn't quite let go. \"She was there when they took my dad, Vincent.\" It came out in a rush, and she panted after she said it, sinking, seeming to think the argument had been decided. Vincent wasn't so sure.\n\n\"You've met her?\" he asked.\n\nJessica nodded. \"Before tonight, when my mom was her boss.\" She paused. After a few seconds, she shook her head. \"I just don't think it makes sense, Vincent. Brian's mom has almost as much to gain from this as Fatrem.\"\n\n\"But Fatrem will get rid of anyone who poses a threat! She'll know that.\" Vincent had to force himself to keep his voice near a whisper. His mind was racing back to the simulation, to the day of the attack when he had dreamed of the small brown house. \"Brian said something to me when I woke up in class. He said to be careful, that dreams are hard to hide. Maybe he was talking about hiding from Newsight. Maybe he knew what Fatrem was planning.\" He looked at Jessica, hating the thin film of glass that covered her dark brown eyes beneath. \"Maybe his mom told him about the attack. That could be why he was leaving – she must have figured out Fatrem's plan.\"\n\n\"Or maybe she helped come up with it.\"\n\nThe air went still between them. Jessica's expression was lined with doubt.\n\n\"Look,\" began Vincent, \"I don't know why, but I'm sure of this. Brian can help.\"\n\nJessica looked away, shaking her head. Vincent lowered his voice.\n\n\"I trusted you during the attack. Can you not trust me now?\"\n\nShe held his gaze for several seconds, then cast a glance behind the dome next to them. She breathed out, heavily. \"Okay,\" she said. \"It's worth a try.\"\n\nVincent released a breath of his own. In spite of everything, he allowed himself a small measure of relief.\n\n\"When should we go?\" asked Jessica.\n\n\"Tonight. We can't wait until the morning. Do you know where he lives?\"\n\nJessica nodded. \"I've seen him after school.\"\n\nShe turned to the Center as she said it, and Vincent knew, without following her gaze, she was facing the first ring.\nChapter 5 – The Dome off Ocean\n\nThe stacked, ornate domes of the first ring loomed closer. They stood a good deal higher than their counterparts of the outer rings, higher, even, than those of the second and third. They concealed the Center behind them almost completely. Their plots, on which Vincent's dome could have fit three or four times over, were occupied so completely with sprawling expansions that the entire ring blended together at the sides, forming a single, impenetrable unit. As Vincent and Jessica grew closer to it, Vincent found himself stricken with the impression of having reached the outer wall of some giant cage.\n\n\"That's it,\" said Jessica. They came to a stop in the narrow pass between the domes of the first and second rings, just a few plots off the main street.\n\n\"You're sure?\" asked Vincent. He followed Jessica's gaze up toward the dome just ahead, the one closest to Ocean Street. It was four or five times the size of Vincent's dome. The hemispheres that formed it were stacked three high, with almost a dozen smaller offshoots. The additions hung out over the main stack as if hovering, casting so great a number of shadows as to paint the whole thing black.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Jessica. \"It's his.\"\n\nVincent drew a deep breath – as deep as he could manage, at least. His lungs had grown tight.\n\n\"How do you think we should get in?\"\n\nJessica shrugged. \"How else? We'll have to go through the front.\"\n\nVincent raised a brow. \"Are you serious? Shouldn't we try to sneak in or something?\"\n\n\"Don't be ridiculous. We wouldn't be able to break into a dome in the sixth ring, let alone the first.\"\n\nVincent looked again to the intricately stacked dome ahead. There were no windows, of course. Except perhaps on the far side facing the Center, but windows there would be far too high to access. There would likely be a back door, too, but if it was like Vincent's, there would be no method of opening it from the outside.\n\n\"We're already here,\" said Jessica. \"We have to try.\"\n\nVincent turned toward the front door of Brian's dome. The greater portion of it was shaded by the overhang of the second story some ten feet above. The screen on its surface was visible even from across the street. Vincent forced himself to focus on the small light there.\n\n\"Okay,\" he said, breathing in. \"I'm ready when you are.\"\n\nJessica's posture grew straight. She nodded.\n\nNo longer shrinking from the lights overhead, they crossed the street together to the front door. They came to a stop at the front step.\n\n\"Look,\" said Jessica. Vincent followed her finger toward the palm-sized panel on the door's surface. The light there was bright orange. \"He must have been awake.\"\n\nVincent grew rigid, the way he did when he knew he was being watched. The orange light indicated surveillance activity. They were being watched. A voice, clear and ungarbled, spoke to them through the intercom.\n\n\"What are you doing here?\"\n\nIt was Brian, but he didn't sound as confident as usual. He wavered on certain syllables, and his words shook in a way Vincent hadn't heard before.\n\n\"We want to talk to you.\" It was Jessica who answered. \"Can you let us in?\"\n\nThere was silence on the other end for a few seconds.\n\n\"You shouldn't be here,\" said Brian. He had forced some of the old boldness back into his voice. \"The Seclusion is on lockdown. You need to go back to your domes.\"\n\n\"I think you know we can't do that,\" said Vincent.\n\n\"I don't know what you're talking about,\" fumbled Brian. \"But you need to go back. You should be asleep.\"\n\n\"So should you.\"\n\nThe intercom went silent again, for longer this time. Vincent was holding his breath. He had to resist the temptation to scan the shadows for gray uniforms. He kept his attention straight forward, his eyes locked on the blank screen of the intercom, his ears perked for the slightest rustle of movement.\n\nThe front door slid open.\n\nVincent turned to the opening, frowning. The lower section of his stomach started to churn. He was almost disappointed. His nerves would have been much calmer had Newsight's charcoal gray uniforms streamed from the shadows. At least then he would have known what to expect.\n\n\"Maybe you were right,\" whispered Jessica, a slight trembling in her lower lip.\n\nStill frowning, Vincent turned back to the screen. The orange light had gone dark.\n\n\"I guess we'll see,\" said Vincent. \"Come on.\" He took the lead and stepped inside. To his surprise, the lights flicked on overhead.\n\nIf Jessica's dome was on one end of the spectrum, Brian's was on the end opposite. The Main was the size of Vincent's entire dome, and dutifully barren but for two empty white chairs on either side of the kitchen table, the surface of which looked impossible to rest one's elbows on without slipping. Around the room's perimeter were a dozen sliding doors, all of them closed and still, each so eerily identical to the last that if not for the reference point of the kitchen, Vincent may have lost track of where they'd entered.\n\nThere was a soft thud from somewhere above. Vincent tensed, his mind once again filled with images of men in gray jumpsuits. Jessica shifted a touch closer to him as they looked up. The ceiling, instead of the dome's usual curve, was flat, and the pure white had been replaced by something not quite that, something almost see-through, a thick, frosted kind of glass.\n\nVincent could see a shadow; the thuds were footsteps of someone a story above. The steps grew progressively softer as the shadow drew farther away from them, deeper into the dome toward the far side, then went quiet altogether. Vincent cast Jessica a look, but she seemed as puzzled as he was. They spun around together when they heard Brian's voice.\n\n\"This isn't a good idea.\" The boy had just emerged through a door in the far wall of the dome. \"The raids on the Senators won't last much longer.\"\n\n\"We didn't have anywhere else to go,\" said Vincent.\n\n\"That doesn't mean you should have come here.\"\n\nVincent didn't make a move to leave. Nor did Jessica.\n\n\"We know what's going on with Newsight,\" said Jessica. \"We know everything.\"\n\nVincent let out a breath that had been caught somewhere in his throat. Any pretense they had entered with was now gone.\n\n\"All the more reason to have let yourselves be taken.\" Brian had yet to venture more than a few steps toward them.\n\n\"I don't think you believe that,\" said Vincent.\n\nEven from a distance, Vincent could see Brian's eyebrows twitch upward. \"And why is that?\"\n\n\"What you said after my dream. And the way you looked at me in the simulation.\" He scanned Brian's face for any betraying sign of recognition. The boy was unreadable. \"You know something. About Newsight. But we know things, too. We know about the bill and the new Lenses and—\"\n\n\"Stop.\"\n\nVincent caught his words mid-sentence and went quiet. Now was the time, he thought. It had been as good as a confession. The men in gray uniforms would appear at any second.\n\n\"Both of you?\" asked Brian. They nodded. Brian stayed still, his eyes unblinking, appraising them, then, slowly, he nodded as well. He left the safety of the door frame and started toward the kitchen table, his footsteps muffled now that they didn't fall on the glass floor above. \"I expected Vincent,\" he said, \"but you...\" He inspected Jessica. \"... I never would have thought, what with your father. My mother says he loves Newsight.\"\n\nJessica snorted under her breath. \"He's a good actor.\"\n\n\"Apparently not good enough.\"\n\nJessica tensed, but Brian didn't seem to notice. He walked through the dining room and into the kitchen, stopping to rummage around in one of the cabinets. \"Sit,\" he said, motioning to the dinner table.\n\nVincent stayed where he was, as did Jessica.\n\n\"The least you can do is show some manners if you expect me to risk this for you.\"\n\n\"Risk what?\" said Vincent. He didn't bother curbing the edge of suspicion in his voice.\n\n\"Everything,\" said Brian. He emerged from behind the cabinet, motioning to the room at large. His fingers were curled around the rims of three small cups. \"If my mom happens to bring someone back for a meeting after the raids, they'll turn you in.\"\n\n\"How do we know you haven't already done that?\" asked Jessica. \"Or your mom. My dad always says how under Fatrem's thumb she is.\"\n\nBrian grinned at this. It was an expression not so unlike the one of his Vincent had seen in the classroom, fleeting, and nearly undecipherable for someone not expecting it.\n\n\"Your dad isn't the only one who can act,\" said Brian.\n\nJessica shook her head. \"That isn't enough.\"\n\n\"Are you really in the position to ask for anything more?\"\n\nJessica opened her mouth to counter him, but she said nothing.\n\nVincent answered for her. \"Just tell us what you know or turn us in. We didn't come here to be toyed with.\"\n\nBrian let his lips curl upward in another grin. They stayed that way for a few seconds this time. \"Sit.\" He motioned to the table once again, then turned back toward the kitchen. Reluctantly, but knowing there was nothing else to do, Vincent started forward. Jessica followed at a slower pace behind him.\n\n\"You should be more careful,\" said Brian. He was back in the kitchen, filling the cups under the sink faucet. \"If you had walked in any other dome saying what you just said, you would have signed your own death warrants.\"\n\n\"Have we not already?\" Vincent lowered himself into the chair closest to the kitchen. Jessica followed suit in the chair closest to the door.\n\n\"Maybe you already have somewhere else,\" said Brian as he started filling the final cup. \"But not here. No Lenses in the first ring can be connected to the normal network. My mom lobbied for it herself, 'to protect sensitive management conversations'.\" He crossed over to them and distributed the cups. \"Lucky for you it protects more than just conversations about management. You're safe here, but only for a while. They'll have seen you come.\"\n\n\"So they already know,\" said Vincent. \"They _have_ been watching.\"\n\n\"Maybe, but the system still has bugs. They won't catch everything at first. Especially during the raids. And it's not like you have to worry about making things worse for yourselves. Running from them already did that.\" Brian lifted his cup to his lips and took a drink. Vincent and Jessica left theirs untouched.\n\n\"You mean there's a chance we can make it out of this?\" asked Vincent. \"That we can save our parents?\"\n\n\"Don't get ahead of yourself. If you've somehow gotten the idea in your head that the Order is some ultra-powerful—\"\n\n\"The Order?\" interrupted Jessica. \"What are you talking about?\"\n\nBrian stopped, looking confused for the first time. \"I'm talking about what you asked me to talk about.\"\n\n\"We didn't come to talk about the Order,\" said Vincent. \"We're here because we thought you might be a part of some sort of movement against Newsight.\"\n\nBrian's grin returned. It looked uglier now, for some reason. \"That's my fault,\" he said, sitting his water back on the counter behind him. \"I thought you had worked it all out. The Order is more than just the catalyst Fatrem needed to pass his bill. It's the reason he wanted it passed. Part of it, anyway.\"\n\n\"You're saying the old Order still exists?\" asked Jessica. \"They're still protesting?\"\n\n\"They're doing more than that,\" said Brian. \"They're resisting. The 'attacks' the Senate has been talking about have all been on Newsight factories. The attacks authorized by the true Order, at least. The ones on civilians, I'm guessing you already know about.\"\n\nVincent and Jessica said nothing.\n\n\"My mom started telling me about it all when I first started school. Around the time John left.\"\n\n\"John?\" said Vincent.\n\n\"My brother. He ran off years ago. My mom says he's helping her, but I'm not sure he's even alive.\"\n\nJessica squinted, as if concentrating. \"I remember John. Barely, from the Newsight retreats when we were little. But what would he be helping your mom with?\"\n\n\"Something with the Order. My mom needs all the help she can get.\"\n\n\"Your mom is in the Order?\" joined Vincent.\n\n\"She's been on the inside for years,\" said Brian. \"Without her, the Order would stand even less of a chance than we already do.\"\n\nJessica raised an eyebrow. \"We?\"\n\nBrian merely stared back. Jessica didn't lower her gaze.\n\n\"But the Order has to stand _some_ chance, right?\" said Vincent, breaking the silence. \"The attacks must be doing _something_.\"\n\nBrian held Jessica's gaze a second longer before turning to Vincent. \"I don't think you understand what Newsight is capable of. Your only sample is what you've seen in the Seclusion. You have no idea what's going on outside of it, or what _it_ even is.\"\n\n\"And you do?\" challenged Jessica.\n\nBrian shrugged in his indifferent, secretive way. \"I've seen it for myself,\" he said. \"In THE SIM.\"\n\n\"The sim?\" Jessica's words didn't have the same emphasis. \"I don't remember any of our simulations from class having—\"\n\n\"Not from class, from Goodwin.\"\n\nJessica started to say something back, then frowned instead. Vincent looked from her to Brian, confused. \"Who's Goodwin?\"\n\n\"George Goodwin, the founder of the Order,\" said Brian. \"The only Newsight protestor still alive from the beginning. He gouged out his eyes so they could never make him wear Lenses.\" There was a far-off, worshipful look in Brian's eyes as he spoke. \"Goodwin made THE SIM himself. One copy on a sim print so it wouldn't be on the Newsight network. It's the heart of the Order: maps, plans, passwords and every Newsight secret ever uncovered. Goodwin worked on it for years to...\" Brian trailed off. His eyes went out of focus; his head turned to the side. He was watching something, something in his Lenses. After a few seconds of silence, he looked up.\n\n\"My mom is outside.\" His voice had dropped to a whisper. \"There's someone with her.\"\nChapter 6 – The Office\n\n\"What do we do?\" asked Jessica. She seemed ready to sprint for the door.\n\nBrian stayed where he was, his eyes on the cup in his hand.\n\n\"Brian,\" said Vincent – he thought he could hear voices outside.\n\n\"I'm thinking.\"\n\nBrian didn't look at him as he said it. He was looking across the Main at the front door, sporadically drawing his eyes close together to focus on his Lenses.\n\nThere were definitely voices now.\n\n\"Brian,\" prompted Vincent. \"What do we do?\"\n\nBrian looked up at them, then at the door across the room. \"Hide.\" The word seemed to inject an urgency in him, pushing him from his seat and pulling his gaze from his Lenses. \"This way.\"\n\n\"The waters,\" said Jessica. \"What should we—\"\n\n\"Bring them!\"\n\nThey snatched their cups and started after Brian toward the stairs.\n\n\"In,\" said Brian, when they were at the door. \"They're almost—\"\n\nTo their right, there was a soft, familiar beep as the retinal scanner outside prepared to unlock.\n\n\"Upstairs!\" Brian slammed a palm against the wall next to the door, and the door slid to the side. \"Third story.\"\n\nBehind them, the locks of the main door clicked free. Brian grabbed Jessica by the wrist and pulled her toward the stairs. Vincent lunged after her as the main door slid open behind them—\n\nThe dome went black. Vincent froze, held immobile by the darkness. He felt a hand on his arm, then a whisper.\n\n\"Go.\"\n\nIt was Brian. Guided by the boy's touch, Vincent found his way through the opening. As soon as he did there was a sliding sound behind him – like the seal being closed on a jet of air – and the darkness lifted. Jessica was there with him, her eyes wide, her pupils dilated.\n\n\"Brian?\"\n\nThe voice was muffled – it was coming from the other side of the door.\n\n\"What did you just do?\"\n\n\"Sorry,\" said Brian. By the relative clarity of his voice, he must have been standing just outside. \"I just meant to close the door behind me. I didn't mean to get the lights as well.\"\n\nThe other speaker stayed silent for a beat. \"Clumsy of you,\" it said after a pause. Vincent could hear the voice better now. It sounded like a woman's.\n\n\"Sorry, Mother.\"\n\nVincent and Jessica exchanged a look. Neither of them started up the stairs.\n\n\"Don't be silly,\" said Brian's mother. \"I don't blame you for trying to hide from Marcus. Everyone hides from him.\"\n\nThe man named Marcus ignored the jibe, and in a voice Vincent found pointedly familiar, said: \"Good to see you again, Brian.\"\n\n\"But it's quite late,\" continued Brian's mother. \"Why aren't you in bed?\"\n\n\"I couldn't sleep. I... I was thinking about today.\"\n\nBrian's mother clicked her tongue sympathetically. Vincent imagined her head tilting to the side, affectionate. For some reason, though, the image seemed out of place.\n\n\"Of course you were,\" she said. \"Why don't you go upstairs and get back in bed. I'll be up there in a little while. Marcus and I have some important things to talk about.\"\n\nThere was a pause, perhaps just long enough for Brian to nod, then more footsteps – Brian was starting for the stairwell door.\n\nUp.\n\nThe word appeared on the bottom rim of Vincent's Lenses. And by the way Jessica's eyes darted toward the bridge of her nose, it had appeared on hers, too.\n\n\"We need to move,\" hissed Vincent. He grabbed Jessica by the hand and started to climb. They had to get out of sight before Brian opened the door.\n\n\"Mother?\"\n\nBrian's voice was right outside; his hand must have been hovering over the button.\n\n\"Goodnight,\" he said.\n\nThe soft but frantic thuds of Vincent and Jessica's footsteps muffled the reply. The door slid open behind them just as they reached the top of the flight. When Brian stepped through and the door closed after him, he was composed again.\n\n\"I knew you'd be eavesdropping,\" he whispered, seeing the quickened rise and fall of Vincent's shoulders. \"They almost saw you.\"\n\n\"Why would it matter?\" said Jessica. \"I thought you said your mother was part of the Order.\"\n\n\"I've already told you,\" said Brian. \"It wouldn't matter if my mom saw you, but she's not alone. You heard Marcus.\"\n\nJessica said nothing back, but Vincent could tell she was far from convinced.\n\n\"Marcus is Newsight's Head of Privacy,\" continued Brian, starting to climb. \"If he's here, the Privacy Officers will have finished the raids.\"\n\nWith a sinking feeling, Vincent realized why the man's voice had seemed familiar. He had heard it just earlier that night in conversation with his father. The frail man who had led the raid of men in gray jumpsuits – Privacy Officers, Brian had called them – was now standing only a story below.\n\n\"How long is a while?\" asked Jessica.\n\nBrian shrugged his shoulders, then pushed past them into the open room beyond the mouth of the staircase. It was predictably round, with a handful of doors to line its perimeter. The frosted glass they had seen from the Main served as the room's floor. Vincent took a cautious step onto it.\n\n\"Don't follow me,\" said Brian over his shoulder. He pointed at the glass beneath his feet. \"They'd see the shadow. Anyway, you're going to the next story.\" He flicked a lazy hand toward the bend at Vincent and Jessica's backs where, around the corner, was another flight of stairs.\n\n\"Aren't you going to show us where to go?\" asked Jessica.\n\n\"Then they _wouldn't_ see the shadow,\" said Brian. \"My shadow.\" He came to a stop in front of a door on the far side of the room. \"Go to the second room on the left. Mom takes other managers upstairs sometimes, but they never go to that room. Just wait, and after Marcus leaves, you might get to see THE SIM.\"\n\n\"THE SIM?\" said Vincent. \"But I thought you said there's only one copy.\"\n\n\"I did. Goodwin entrusted it to my mother.\" He puffed up importantly. \"If she thinks you're serious enough about all this, you could watch it tonight. Experience it, really. You talk to it, ask it any question about the Order and it gives you the answer.\"\n\n\"Then we shouldn't be wasting time,\" said Jessica. \"If it can help us get our parents back, we should watch it now.\"\n\nBrian shook his head. \"You'll have to be supervised while you watch it. It's too important to give it to you alone.\" He pressed a button next to his own door and the thing slid open. \"Besides, the room you're going to has plenty to watch.\" He gave them one last, indiscernible grin, then disappeared into his room.\n\n\"Vincent, I don't like this.\" Jessica stared at Brian's closed door, brow furrowed. \"I don't trust him.\"\n\nVincent joined her gaze. \"I don't think I do either, but we really don't have a choice.\"\n\n\"Maybe we do. We could always just—\"\n\nThe pressurized breath sounded a flight below, and Vincent dodged around the corner, pulling Jessica with him. Down the stairs behind them, he could hear two sets of footsteps.\n\n\"... yes, I understand that.\" It was Brian's mother. \"And I completely agree. However, the—\"\n\n_Let's go!_ mouthed Vincent. He pulled Jessica toward the second set of stairs.\n\n\"I see your point,\" said Marcus. \"But their effect has been negated. Fatrem foresaw that long ago.\"\n\nVincent stared straight down at the steps as he climbed, having to force himself not to stop and listen.\n\n\"Let's hope so,\" said Brian's mother. \"If not, none of this will have been worth the trouble.\"\n\nMarcus grunted in response, and the pair of them started to climb. Vincent was so intent on listening for the next thread of conversation he nearly ran into the door just ahead.\n\n\"Vincent!\" Jessica pulled him back just in time. She reached out and pressed the button.\n\n\"It will be worth it,\" said Marcus, his voice masking the sound of the door. \"There's no need to worry.\"\n\nJessica allowed herself a sigh of relief before climbing the final step. Vincent followed close behind into a curved hallway.\n\n\"I still think—\"\n\n\"You have to be careful,\" hissed Jessica, as the door closed, snapping Vincent's focus. \"We need to find the second room.\" She scanned both walls as they walked, but there was scarcely a seam in either. Vincent cast a glance behind them. They were still in view of the staircase.\n\n\"There's the first,\" said Jessica, pointing ahead to an arch-shaped door on their left. \"Come on.\" She tugged on Vincent's arm. Vincent glanced behind them at the door to the stairs. Marcus and Brian's mother had to be getting close.\n\n\"There!\"\n\nJessica spotted the second door and started for it. Still straining to hear the conversation behind them, Vincent started forward more slowly. When Jessica pressed the button and urged them inside, he kept his ear against the door without turning around. Jessica leaned back against the wall, shoulders vibrating from rapid, shallow breaths.\n\n\"Can you hear them?\" she whispered.\n\nVincent held a finger to his lips – the door down the hall had slid open.\n\n\"How many in total were raided?\" asked Brian's mother.\n\n\"Almost a dozen. Some of them were employees but most were Senators.\"\n\nHearing the voices, Jessica pressed her ear up against the door as well.\n\n\"And that's all of them? All you detected?\"\n\n\"There are certainly more. But none who can do any damage.\"\n\nThere was nothing but footsteps for a while, the soft thuds of which were growing far too near for Vincent's liking.\n\n\"Here?\" said Marcus.\n\nVincent and Jessica leaned away from the door in the same instant. They no longer had to strain to hear the man's voice – it was coming from right outside.\n\n\"No,\" said Brian's mother, and Vincent relaxed. \"Keep going.\"\n\nThe footsteps resumed, this time carrying their owners farther down the hall. When they had faded sufficiently, Vincent let out a breath.\n\n\"I thought he had set us up,\" said Jessica.\n\nVincent thought of Brian's unreadable expression outside the door of his bedroom. \"Maybe he still has.\"\n\nJessica bit down on the insides of her cheeks, frowning. \"Do you think he was telling the truth about THE SIM?\"\n\n\"We'll know soon enough. For now I guess we're stuck here.\"\n\nThe room was small and square with crimson walls and patterned wooden floors, devoid of furniture but for a large, ornate desk with elaborate carvings on the corners. Behind the desk, upholstered along the front with a rich red fabric, was an imposing wooden chair, and behind that was a wall of ceiling-height shelves, each lined with the same kind of leather-bound books Vincent had seen in Jessica's dome.\n\n\"They have books,\" said Jessica, in awe. She crossed over to the shelves and sat her water on the desk. She plucked a book from its perch.\n\n\"Jessica I don't think we should—\"\n\n\"Relax.\" She flipped the book open to the first page. \"I'm sure Brian doesn't expect us to just stare at the wall.\"\n\nVincent bit back a second protest and checked the time. Judging they had at least a few minutes, he sat down at the desk to wait. As soon as he did, an ice-cold prickling slithered from his tailbone to his neck, chilling his spine stiff and sucking the breath from his lungs. A moment later, as Jessica's turning of a page broke the silence, the feeling was gone. He suppressed a shudder and scooted forward, making contact with as little of the chair as possible.\n\nThe desk's surface was bare but for an unfamiliar contraption in the corner. The base of the thing was about book-size, with two eye-shaped spheres sitting on top and an old-fashioned camera lens protruding from the end. Casting a cautious glance at the door, Vincent ran a finger across one of the spheres. It was smooth and cold to the touch. He felt the base, ran his fingers along the side of it, over a small button...\n\nThere was a flash to the left, and the far wall was no longer crimson. The device had projected it with a checkerboard of what looked like miniature video feeds.\n\nJessica looked up from the book. \"What is that?\"\n\nVincent stood and took a step closer to the wall. He half-expected the video feeds to disappear, but they remained as clear as ever. \"It's the dome.\"\n\nThe very middle square showed a feed of the Main. The stripped-clean kitchen and frosted glass ceiling were exactly as he remembered.\n\nThe other squares contained feeds as well, all different. One near the upper right showed Brian's bedroom. He was under the covers of his bed, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. Another square showed a room much like the one they were in currently, only without the bookshelf and ornate brown desk. It was a more Seclusion-appropriate version of what an office was supposed to look like: undecorated, with a simple table and single chair, both rounded at the corners, both white. The people inside it, too, Brian's mother in her snow-colored jumpsuit and Marcus in his ashen gray one, matched their surroundings in a way Vincent couldn't quite pinpoint.\n\n\"They're talking,\" said Jessica. \"Look.\"\n\nVincent leaned closer, and he could see Marcus's mouth moving. There was no sound to accompany it.\n\n\"Is there volume?\"\n\n\"I don't think so,\" said Vincent. He had felt nothing on the projection device but the small button.\n\n\"Maybe if we...\" Jessica stepped closer and raised her hand toward the feed, tapping the surface of the wall where Brian's mother and Marcus were pictured. As soon as her fingers made contact, the feed expanded to the full size of the wall, crowding the others around it from view. As it grew, so too did the volume. Marcus was still speaking.\n\n\"... and before you say it, yes, they're just children. But I would prefer not to take any chances, no matter how small.\"\n\nBrian's mother nodded, slowly, as she lowered herself down into the chair behind the small round desk. Even sitting, she was quite tall. Her hands were interlocked under her pointed chin for support. Her eyes were steady and unrevealing. \"I understand. I just don't want you to lose sight of the larger picture.\"\n\n\"I'm not,\" said Marcus. \"But I'm not going to lose sight of the smaller ones, either.\"\n\nBrian's mother nodded once again, unreadable.\n\nJessica turned from the screen, her voice near a whisper, as if the people in the feed might overhear them. \"Do you think Brian wanted us to find this?\"\n\nVincent shrugged. \"Maybe.\"\n\nJessica turned back to the feed, still frowning. Brian's mother was about to speak.\n\n\"Did you encounter any trouble?\"\n\n\"There were some struggles,\" said Marcus. \"But nothing major. The Senator's and the developer's kids were the only ones to escape.\"\n\nVincent and Jessica gave one another a look.\n\n\"And _escape_ is far from the right word,\" continued Marcus. \"If you would have just let my men—\"\n\n\"Enough.\" Brian's mother remained sitting, but her voice had risen. Marcus seemed to shrink slightly. \"I've already told you: that order came from above, not from me.\" She paused here, ensuring Marcus wasn't going to interrupt. \"Besides, the order has since been rescinded. You're free to do as you wish.\"\n\nMarcus perked up at this. Brian's mother noticed.\n\n\"But that should not distract you from your other duties.\"\n\n\"Of course,\" said Marcus. His tone was flat, unconvincing. \"My other obligations are few, anyway.\"\n\n\"The detainees?\"\n\n\"I've delegated.\"\n\n\"Even the priority ones?\"\n\n\"They require little effort.\"\n\n\"Ah.\" Brian's mother paused here. A patronizing edge had begun to creep into her tone. \"The assignments mandated by Fatrem himself require little effort. I may have guessed.\"\n\nMarcus shifted where he stood. His discomfort was evident. \"I did not say they are not important. I simply mean there is little I can do at the moment.\"\n\n\"And there is no preparation to be done? The first announcement is due to be made in the morning.\"\n\n\"I am aware of the timeline, Lynn.\" Marcus didn't shrink away from her this time. \"Fatrem has trusted me with this matter, and I would expect you to do the same.\"\n\nIf possible, Brian's mother – Lynn, Marcus had called her – grew even straighter in her seat. \"I trust you, but there can be no mistakes. If Smith is to take the fall, you need to be convincing.\"\n\n\"I will be. But I'll need more leverage at some point. If not for Smith, then for the developer.\"\n\n\"Enough about the children. We have Smith's wife. She's enough leverage for now. And the developer we won't need for long.\"\n\nMarcus grunted in response. \"I had my men check for the children's whereabouts before coming here—\" Lynn seemed prepped to interrupt – \"not to pursue them,\" rushed Marcus. \"Just to monitor.\" He paused for a second, but Lynn remained quiet. \"They were off the grid. Do you know what that means?\"\n\nLynn raised her eyebrows, feigning interest. \"They're dead?\"\n\n\"They're in the first ring,\" said Marcus, ignoring the sarcasm. \"In the management sector. They must have been told of the dead zones.\"\n\nIf Vincent wasn't mistaken, he could see a glint of suspicion in Marcus's gaze. Lynn snorted.\n\n\"And whoever could have told them that? It couldn't have been the girl's father. The one who's been digging through the software for years. The one who knows nearly as much as management.\"\n\nMarcus tilted his chin upward with a cold, inspecting look. \"I'm sure that's who it was.\"\n\nThey stayed like that for a moment, locked in a silent, icy stare, before Marcus spoke again. \"Is there anything else?\"\n\n\"Not at the moment,\" said Lynn. She stood from her seat and motioned to the door. \"I'll walk you out.\"\n\nThey both started for the hall, and Jessica tapped on the feed once again to shrink it to its previous square. \"They have our parents.\"\n\nVincent opened his mouth to speak, then closed it when he saw her eyes – they had begun to well with tears.\n\n\"Your parents are important to them,\" she said. \"My dad isn't.\"\n\n\"Jessica, you don't know...\"\n\nVincent trailed off mid-sentence when he heard the footsteps outside. The sound grew louder as Marcus and Lynn approached the door but faded just as quickly, down the hall and toward the stairs, leaving them in silence once again.\n\n\"We can't think about that,\" said Vincent, his voice softer now. \"We won't be able to do anything. Not yet. We'll ask Brian's mom after Marcus leaves. She might know where Newsight is keeping them.\"\n\n\"You really trust that woman?\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" he said. \"I do.\" It wasn't true, of course. He trusted Lynn no more than he trusted Brian.\n\n\"I don't know, Vincent.\" Jessica turned to the portion of the wall where Lynn had just been pictured. \"It doesn't seem right. Marcus already knows we're somewhere in the first ring.\"\n\n\"But we know _exactly_ where he is.\" Vincent pointed to the checkerboard of video feeds. Marcus and Lynn had just walked into the square of the Main. \"We're ahead of them. We might not even need to talk to Lynn. Look—\" he pointed to the feed– \"they're talking again. They might be saying something about our parents.\"\n\nStill looking unconvinced, Jessica tapped the feed.\n\n\"It's a pleasure as always,\" Lynn was saying. They were just outside of the stairwell, about to start for the main door. \"Is there anything else I can do for you before you leave?\" Something about her tone seemed to push Marcus toward the door, but he stayed where he was, his eyes roaming the Main with deliberate care.\n\n\"I won't keep you. Brian seems to need your attention.\" He glanced at the cup, still half full, sitting on the kitchen counter. \"He was up awfully late.\"\n\nLynn sighed. Vincent couldn't tell if she was actually concerned. \"He had a traumatizing day.\"\n\nMarcus nodded in agreement. He still didn't start for the door. \"You're aware of the Lenses' new capabilities, I assume?\"\n\nLynn raised her eyebrows. \"I should think so. I helped design them.\"\n\nMarcus nodded, unfazed. \"Then you'll know they record everything they see. We can't hold the footage indefinitely, but we can go back several hours. Relive conversations.\"\n\nLynn crossed her arms. She rose to her full height, which was an inch or two taller than Marcus. \"I don't recall requesting a lecture on the work of my own department.\"\n\nMarcus smirked at her. \"When I checked on the whereabouts of the children, I rewound their Lenses. They had an interesting conversation about your son. And you.\"\n\n\"Is that so?\" said Lynn.\n\n\"It is. And before they entered the first ring, they kept looking at this dome.\" Marcus looked around them, surveying the empty-walled space, scrutinizing.\n\n\"What are you implying, Marcus?\"\n\nMarcus smirked again. \"Nothing at all. But you'll understand my hesitance to leave without giving your dome a more thorough search.\"\n\n\"A search?\" repeated Lynn. \"I think you're forgetting where you are.\"\n\n\"Oh no,\" said Marcus. \"My memory is quite good. And it stretches back far enough to know you have a history.\"\n\n\"By association,\" snapped Lynn. \"He ran off on his own accord. Brian and I have nothing to do with him.\" She glanced around them where Marcus's eyes had just been roaming. \"You don't have authority here.\"\n\nMarcus tilted his head and pressed his lips tighter together. \"I'm afraid I do. My job is to monitor privacy. And for some reason, you seem to have quite a lot of it.\"\n\n\"I'm a Department Head,\" said Lynn. She pulled her arms tighter around her stomach, as if to hold herself together. \"Fatrem trusts me. Why else would he have given me the privacy he has?\"\n\nMarcus grinned. \"Perhaps he does trust you. But trust is temporary.\" His eyes lost focus for a moment, flitting in toward his nose, then to the side. \"And so is privacy.\"\n\nBehind them, the main door of the dome exploded inward. A stream of gray-clad Privacy Officers came pouring through. Lynn didn't blink.\n\n\"As you wish.\" She turned to the men invading her dome. Her voice was steady. \"Search,\" she said. \"Everywhere.\"\nChapter 7 – Beyond the Rings\n\nThe swarm of men divided into pairs and spread like a virus through the Main. Lynn and Marcus disappeared among them.\n\n\"We need to get out of here,\" said Jessica.\n\nVincent tapped the wall's surface so the Main shrank into the checkerboard of feeds. The officers had begun to enter the other frames, some into the stairwell.\n\n\"We might be able to find another exit. If not we'll have to—\"\n\nHis Lenses went white with a message.\n\nI hear something downstairs. It was Brian. You can see what it is. Press the side button on the Lens Projector.\n\nJessica uncrossed her eyes, seeming to have received the message as well, and expanded the feed for Brian's room. He was standing, looking straight into the camera. With a blink, Vincent sent him an image of the surveillance footage in front of them, zooming in slightly on the officers bounding up the stairs.\n\nBrian continued to stare into the camera, speaking aloud now, no longer bothering with his Lenses. \"They'll find THE SIM.\"\n\nTwo men crossed the glass floor to his room.\n\n\"You have to get to it before they do. It's in a Lens case under the books.\"\n\nThey barged through the door. Brian backed away, voice frenetic, eyes on the camera.\n\n\"It'll hide for you. The shelf is—\"\n\nThe first officer threw him against the wall and pinned his arms behind his back, muttering something indiscernible into his ear.\n\n\"I don't know what you're talking about,\" said Brian. \"Get off me!\"\n\nJessica tapped the screen and Brian's feed shrank into the checkerboard of the rest. Two other pairs of men had climbed the stairs. They disappeared into the rooms on either side of Brian's. \"They'll be up here soon, Vincent. We need to get out.\"\n\n\"I'm not leaving without THE SIM.\"\n\n\"You don't know if he's telling the truth.\"\n\nVincent spun the chair around so it faced the bookshelf. \"Just tell me when they're close.\"\n\nJessica opened her mouth to protest but said nothing. She cast the office door a nervous look before turning back to the feeds.\n\nVincent climbed onto the chair and flung books from the top shelf with both hands. He cleared the surface in a matter of seconds and ran his fingers along the wood with no result.\n\n\"They're searching the other rooms,\" said Jessica.\n\nHe cleared another shelf, then the next, feeling nothing but bare wood. He forced himself not to look at the feeds as he moved to the final row.\n\n\"They're almost done,\" said Jessica. Panic was beginning to enter her voice.\n\nHe cleared the remaining shelf in a single sweep – no Lens case tucked under the books, no hidden compartments in the wood.\n\n\"They're leaving the rooms,\" said Jessica. The words spilled from her in a rush. \"Vincent we need to get out of here.\"\n\nHis heart pounded as he stared at the bare surface of the bottom shelf, at the equally empty ones of the shelves above it. Mind racing, he turned to face the door, on the verge of pulling Jessica from the room, and then he saw the desk. The bottom right cabinet had been knocked open, and inside was a single shelf.\n\n\"They're coming up the stairs,\" said Jessica, frantic now. \"Four of them, Vincent, they're in our hall.\"\n\nBreath frozen in his throat he dropped to his knees by the open cabinet. He threw the books from the shelf. He swept across the wood with his hands, felt something slick under his left.\n\n\"Two are in the first room,\" said Jessica. \"Two are coming this way.\"\n\nHe pulled back, and there was the Lens case. Small and circular and made of flexible plastic, it clung to his wrist as if by adhesive. With an electric flicker it sealed against his flesh, matching his skin to the last pigment.\n\n\"Vincent!\" Jessica turned from the feeds to the office door, and the officers were inside. They saw Jessica first and started for her. On instinct, Vincent lunged forward and shoved the foremost man in the chest. He started for the second only for his head to explode with a splitting pain. He fell to the ground, holding himself where he'd been struck. Through bleary eyes he saw the man wrap Jessica's arms behind her. He watched, blinking rapidly to chase the pain from his head, as the two officers from the room over joined the struggle. They dragged Jessica toward the door, eventually lifting her from her feet to avoid her wild kicks.\n\nVincent could manage little more than a muffled groan as they dragged him along behind. Every step they took was another excruciating jolt to the lump on his head, and by the time they reached the stairs, his vision had gone foggy with pain.\n\nAs they hauled him downstairs he saw Marcus and Lynn in the room's center, and Brian struggling against his own escort off to the side. He caught Brian's eye and gave him a nearly imperceptible nod. Brian, seeming to understand, calmed his struggles without question.\n\nWhen they came to a stop, Marcus clicked his tongue in disapproval and turned to Lynn. \"What a shame. You were the best Head of Product we've ever had. Fatrem will loath to replace you.\"\n\n\"He won't have to,\" said Lynn. Even through blurred vision, Vincent could see the lack of fear, of anything, really, in the woman's eyes. Judging from her crossed arms and impatient stance, she could have been in a particularly boring meeting.\n\n\"I doubt that,\" said Marcus. \"Even _you_ won't be able to recover from this. Or Brian.\"\n\n\"Brian and I had nothing to do with this. You can use lie detection if you'd like.\"\n\n\"I think I will,\" said Marcus. \"But later. As you were just lecturing, I have other matters to attend to.\" He turned to the men holding Vincent and Jessica. \"Where did you find them?\"\n\n\"Third story,\" the man holding Vincent said. \"In an office.\"\n\nLynn looked up at them, her posture, if possible, even more rigid than before.\n\n\"And did you find anything else?\" asked Marcus.\n\n\"No, sir. Nothing unusual.\"\n\nUnconsciously, Vincent flexed his left wrist where THE SIM had attached itself, and when he did, he saw a dawning look of realization pass across Lynn's face.\n\nMarcus didn't seem to notice. \"Very well. Take them.\" Then, with a relishing look at Lynn: \"All of them.\"\n\nLynn breathed out heavily, more annoyed than troubled. \"You'd do better to focus on your own job. Leave mine to me.\"\n\n\"I would if I felt safe doing so.\" Marcus gave her a disdainful, smirking look before turning to the men holding Vincent and Jessica. \"To the transports. Get these two out of the management sector.\"\n\nJessica stared up at the man with a glare that would have made Mrs. Farring cringe. Vincent knew beyond a doubt she was thinking of her father.\n\n\"I'll never understand the privacy privilege given to the first ring,\" continued Marcus, ignoring Jessica. \"There's absolutely no excuse for anyone being off the grid.\"\n\nJessica's expression changed, her eyes widened. She broke the man's gaze, glare forgotten, and flicked her pupils side to side under her Lenses. Vincent blinked as he watched her, still fighting the throb of the pain. She continued the movement even as the officers began dragging them across the tile.\n\n\"Would you like me to drive Brian and myself?\" asked Lynn. \"We have nothing to hide.\"\n\nMarcus laughed, callous and unpracticed. \"We'll be the judges of that. As for Brian, I had almost forgotten. He can ride with the children.\" He flicked his head at the officer holding Brian, and the man started forward.\n\n\"I didn't do anything wrong,\" said Brian, struggling against the man. He looked back at Lynn, imploring. \"Mother!\"\n\nLynn twitched at the lips, but she said nothing.\n\nVincent could watch the scene unfold only in his periphery. Jessica had gone still again, completely calm. He caught her attention with a questioning look. With a discreet glance up at the officers, her eyes began twitching in a more familiar pattern: the darting composition of a message. Marcus saw this in an instant.\n\n\"The girl is doing something,\" he snapped. \"Darken her.\"\n\nAn officer at Marcus's side stepped forward with a short club and placed the tip of it on Jessica's temple. He pressed a button on the bottom of the thing, and her eyes went white. They stayed like that for a few seconds – robbed of their normal, rich brown – before returning. She swayed where she stood, disoriented.\n\n\"And the boy.\"\n\nVincent tried to squirm from his captor's grip, but it was too late. His vision exploded with a blinding white light, and his Lenses grew cold, freezing against his eyes and spurring on the pain already present in his skull. And then he could see again. He sagged against the officer behind him, light-headed.\n\n\"You'll keep your darkeners away from Brian,\" said Lynn, her eyes on the white clubs. \"He's the son of a Department Head.\"\n\nMarcus glanced at her, then at Brian and the man with the club. \"Load them,\" he said, and Lynn relaxed.\n\nAs the officers took the three of them to the door, Vincent stole a glance back at Lynn, but her face was once again unreadable. A second later, she was gone altogether, and they were outside.\n\n\"Put them in here.\" Marcus pointed to a large transport parked in front of the dome. The thing had three wheels and a long, egg-shaped pod in the center. The pod looked large enough to accommodate half a dozen people.\n\n\"I'll follow in a few minutes with Lynn,\" said Marcus. \"Meet in the Center.\"\n\nTheir escort opened the pod door and forced them into the back row, climbing in after them. Brian and the man with the short club sat in the middle row. In the rearview mirror, Vincent saw the man's reflection, saw his eyes go out of focus, his lips curl downward. He stayed like that for a moment, then, when the driver's door slid open in the front row, he composed himself once again.\n\nNo one spoke. Vincent chanced a glimpse at Jessica. Her eyes were fixed out the window to the right. Before he could see what she was looking at, their escort shoved him against the seat, forcing his gaze forward once again.\n\nBrian looked back at them. He wore the same look Vincent had seen on him during the simulation – the subtle trace of a reassuring grin, the unspoken message perched on his lips.\n\nWhen the officer in the driver's seat propelled the transport forward, Brian turned his gaze straight ahead. The man next to him, however, was shifting in his seat. He had let his eyes slide out of focus again.\n\nBeside him, Vincent felt Jessica nudge his arm as she fastened her restraints. He made no move for his own. He was still watching the scene in front of him. The man was reaching down into his belt. He was removing his short club. He was raising it up. They were turning toward Ocean. The tip of the thing glowed white, pointed at the driver—\n\nVincent's head slammed against the window as the pod jerked to the side. They were upside down, weightless for a fraction of a second, rotating in mid-air. He rose from his seat, unrestrained, his hands searching in vain for a hold. The pod jerked as it bounced off the street, sending him hurtling back downward, then jerked again as it came to a stop on the right-side window.\n\nThere was silence but for the spinning sound of a wheel outside. Vincent tasted the salt of blood smeared across his lips, felt a damp heat on the back of his head. The splitting pain there had tripled, and his vision came in spurts. He was on the ground, where the right window had once been, with his back twisted and stiff, as if cemented down the spine. The officer was next to him, motionless, his lips parted, his forehead gashed all the way across where the side of the pod had caved in against him. Jessica remained in her restraints. Scratches lined her face in grim streaks, and blood matted down the right side of her hair above the ear, but she was stirring. In the seat just ahead, however, the middle right where the pod had borne the brunt of the impact, there was no such movement. Brian was still. His head hung limply from his shoulders, cocked at an angle so blood dripped from his brow. His eyes, still open, faced the ground.\n\nA knot rose in Vincent's windpipe. He looked away, shifting his body toward the front of the pod, and in a blinding wave, his back erupted in pain, white hot needles stabbing through bone, prying open his lips in a silent scream.\n\nHe fell still when the pain receded and caught his breath. Careful not to move his torso this time, he turned his eyes toward the busted windshield. Outside only feet away, dented in spots from the collision but otherwise unharmed, was Simon's unmanned transport.\n\nIn a flash, Marcus's words in the dome came back to Vincent, only this time in Simon's voice: _off the grid_. He thought of the way Jessica's eyes had gone out of focus, the same way Simon's had when summoning the transport the day before.\n\nJessica began to stir, opening her eyes in a daze. \"Is it here?\"\n\nVincent tried to nod but stopped when he felt the promise of pain. \"It wrecked us. You can use it to get out.\"\n\n\"So can you,\" said Jessica. She started to undo her restraints. \"We can help you.\" She glanced at the middle right seat. \"Brian?\"\n\nVincent bit down on his tongue. \"Jessica you don't have time for this. The officers will wake up soon.\"\n\n\"I'm waking Brian up now,\" she said. \"He can help pull you out.\" She freed herself of the restraints. \"Brian.\" Her eyes were on the boy by the window. He didn't move. \"Brian,\" she said again, louder this time.\n\n\"Jessica...\" Vincent trailed off. He was shaking his head. \"You have to go.\"\n\nJessica met his gaze, then turned back to Brian. She frowned, as if suspicious, as if the two of them were playing a joke on her, but when Brian didn't move, the suspicion faded. Her eyes grew wide, her bottom lip began to tremor.\n\n\"Jessica,\" Vincent repeated.\n\nShe blinked several times, then turned her head, a bit farther than necessary, from Brian. \"I can still get you out.\" Her words sounded strained, as if she formed them around a lump in her throat. \"We'll have to go through the front.\" She crawled over the man in between them. She reached out for Vincent's arm...\n\n\"No don't—\"\n\nJessica tugged on him, and the pain erupted yet again, more needles through bone, more gasping for breath.\n\n\"I can't. I'm sorry, I can't. Please just go.\"\n\nJessica paused for a moment, then glanced out at Simon's transport. \"Don't move. I'll open your door from the outside.\"\n\nBefore Vincent could protest, she started for the opening in the windshield. But as she clambered forward, the officer next to Brian began to move. The man was coming to, looking down at his hands, around at the pod... then back at them. He reached for his shoulder restraint. Jessica hurried into the middle row, past Brian, around to the unmoving driver and the open windshield.\n\nThe man grabbed her by the overalls and yanked backward.\n\n\"No!\" she shouted, struggling as he pushed her back into the middle row.\n\nHe crawled past her, then over his companion in the driver's seat, careful to keep his body between Jessica and the windshield.\n\n\"Let us go!\" she called after him, punching at his legs, desperate.\n\n\"Jessica you have to—\" Vincent stopped mid-sentence when his spine threatened to erupt yet again. He could only watch as she continued her ineffective blows against the officer's back.\n\n\"Please!\" she shouted at him as he crawled through the broken glass. The man only grunted in response. He held her at bay until he could get through the opening and climb to his feet. He started for the left-side door, the door above Vincent.\n\nJessica pulled herself through the windshield, hysterical now. \"Just leave us alone!\" she shouted at him again, still trying to pull him back.\n\nVincent felt a gust of cold. The officer had pulled the dented door open.\n\nJessica called out from somewhere outside, \"Vincent, you have to move!\"\n\nPainfully conscious of the man's groaning efforts overhead, Vincent bit down on his tongue and lifted himself up. The movement shot another wave of burning pain down his spine. He gritted his teeth, shifting another inch, but he was too slow. A set of arms wrapped around him from above. The officer was inside the pod with his arms dropped down into a cradle; he was going to pull Vincent out.\n\nVincent did his best to remain where he was – he had no intention of fighting through the wave once again – but the man lifted him easily, and the wave was back. He wasn't sure if he screamed this time, but when he felt the cool breeze of the morning wash over him, his mouth was open, and Jessica was wearing a look of horror.\n\nThey were outside. The officer had climbed from the pod with Vincent slung over his shoulders like a large, unimportant sack, and they were sitting in the door frame, both of them panting.\n\n\"What are you doing?\" asked Jessica. Her face was pale except where it was splattered with blood.\n\nThe officer ignored her. He climbed down the undercarriage of the transport, moving carefully now, bracing Vincent the best he could, almost gently.\n\n\"What are you doing with him?\"\n\nThe officer made no response. He finished their descent down the undercarriage in silence and began staggering toward Simon's pod. Vincent tried to tell Jessica to leave, but his tongue formed only a weak-sounding moan. He knew already what would happen: the officer would load them in and drive them back to Brian's dome. Or he would lock them inside and wait for help to arrive. Either way, Simon's off-the-grid vehicle would be their prison, not their escape.\n\nVincent pushed the thought from his mind. They had THE SIM. They hadn't come this far only to be locked in some smoking transport.\n\nCareful not to draw attention, he began peeling the Lens case from his wrist. It flickered in protest, clinging to his skin with the same tone-matching tint as before.\n\nHe would give it to Jessica. If he could convince her to leave, she could escape. THE SIM could escape.\n\nHe had the plastic almost fully removed when something down the street drew his attention. It was a light, bright and fluorescent, and it was getting closer.\n\n\"What is that?\" asked Jessica. She had seen the light too. \"Is that... is that a transport?\"\n\nVincent squinted into the light. When he did, he saw the split down the middle – headlights. His stomach sank. The officer wouldn't have to lock them in Simon's transport after all. And yet, the man hadn't slowed his pace. His eyes flitted back and forth between the street and the headlights, and his shuffling steps grew more urgent.\n\n\"Please just let us go.\" Jessica was pleading now, her voice cracking, her eyes darting between the officer and the lights. \"Tell them we escaped. Anything.\"\n\nThey were only a few yards from Simon's transport. The officer pointed to the driver's side door.\n\n\"What? What is it?\" said Jessica. The man only continued to point, starting for the opposite side with Vincent. Jessica didn't move.\n\n\"Get in,\" said Vincent. His voice was barely above a whisper. The lights were getting closer – they were moving quickly. \"You have to go.\"\n\nJessica hesitated, then, looking at the lights, she started for the driver's seat. Vincent clenched his jaw, bracing for the pain as they rounded the pod. In spite of the crash, the door slid open the same as usual when the man pressed the button. He bent at the waist so Vincent's back entered the pod first, and deposited him gingerly inside.\n\n\"Protect THE SIM.\" The man spoke for the first time. It was a low, deep rasp, and it sounded forced, as if each letter had to fight its way out between his lips. \"Leave west for the city. We've disabled the border fence.\" He glanced over his shoulder, down the street. The lights were still several domes away, but they were closing fast. \"Run,\" he said, and he closed the door.\n\n\"What's he doing?\" asked Jessica. She hadn't made a move for the controls. Her eyes were fixed on the officer as he staggered into the street.\n\n\"Go,\" said Vincent. \"He told us to go.\"\n\n\"But he's one of _them_. Maybe it's a trap.\"\n\nThe lights were approaching even faster now. The officer pulled the small club from his belt.\n\n\"We have to go,\" said Vincent. \"Now, Jessica. We need to move.\"\n\nJessica's hands shifted toward the controls, but her eyes stayed on the officer. He was pointing his club at the approaching transport. There was something bright shining from the end, though not nearly as bright as the beams racing toward him.\n\n\"Jessica, go!\"\n\nJessica tore her eyes from the scene and thrust the accelerator forward. The pod shuddered for a moment, then lurched into motion.\n\nThe other transport was only feet from the officer. The man widened his stance. He raised the club with the glowing tip. He plunged it toward the street just as the wheels met his legs. There was a flash of white, and the transport's rear axle went airborne in a kind of somersault. The thing turned on its head, windshield dragging the ground, dragging the crumpled officer under the glass, and skidded across a trail of blood and sparks. It slowed from the friction and came to a stop with a slight rock, surface surging with electric energy, undercarriage breathing smoke. The gray-clad occupants, now turned on their heads and blurred through the waves of heat, were motionless.\n\n\"What happened?\" asked Jessica. She glanced over her shoulder as she drove, apparently looking for the officer. \"He stopped them?\"\n\nVincent averted his eyes from the blood on the street, wincing as he turned forward. Jessica seemed to notice, and her concern for the officer was forgotten.\n\n\"I tried to warn you I'd summoned it, but the darkeners... I didn't mean for any of this to happen.\" Her voice shook on these last words, and her eyes darted back to the wreck. Vincent followed her gaze. He knew she was thinking of Brian, of his limp form in the middle right seat.\n\n\"It's not your fault,\" said Vincent.\n\nJessica shook her head, bottom lip quivering. \"If we had just waited. The officer would have helped us. Lynn or Brian must have told him. I should have trusted them.\"\n\n\"You didn't know. We did the only thing we could.\"\n\nJessica fixed her gaze forward along the curved street of the first ring. She was still for several seconds while her breathing returned to normal. \"So what now?\" It was her usual, calm tone, but it wasn't quite normal. He was getting better at detecting the difference.\n\n\"He said the fence is disabled. We can leave.\"\n\n\"And go where?\"\n\n\"To the nearest city. You heard him.\"\n\n\"But aren't the cities dangerous?\"\n\nVincent looked at her, and she turned away, blushing.\n\n\"I know here is dangerous, too,\" she said. \"I just... I've never left the Seclusion before.\" She turned from the road to look at him. \"And our parents are here.\"\n\nVincent had thought of that too. He had half a mind to charge headlong into the Center where the Newsight campus was, but he knew it would be pointless.\n\n\"We'll come back for them,\" he said. \"But we'll need help, the Order's help.\" He held out his left wrist where the outline of THE SIM was just visible. \"We can watch THE SIM and...\" He trailed off when he saw Jessica shaking her head.\n\n\"Vincent, our Lenses are dark.\"\n\nVincent deflated. Of course. Until their Lenses were reactivated, they wouldn't be able to watch THE SIM. Still, Jessica was staring at it, flitting her eyes between it and the road. \"Do you really think the Order exists?\"\n\n\"I don't know,\" said Vincent. \"But maybe someone in the city will.\"\n\nJessica turned back to the street in front of them. They were nearly around the Center. \"So we're really going then?\" she asked.\n\n\"I think we have to.\"\n\nJessica nodded without looking at him. She made the final turn back onto Ocean without lifting her eyes from the road. Behind them, a winding tower of smoke from the crash was still visible, and behind that, the gray line along the horizon had begun to soften into morning. Ahead of them, however, the night was still dark. The street was lit only by the cracked headlights of Simon's transport. The light was weak, but it raced onward, away from the domes, away from the Seclusion, and west.\nPart II – The City\nChapter 8 – The Stayers\n\nVincent blinked, slowly at first then more quickly as his vision returned. He reached his arms up automatically to stretch. Midway through the motion he froze, preparing himself for the wave of pain the movement would surely have triggered, but he felt nothing. Suspicious of his own body, he completed the stretch as a test, once again braced against the inevitable wave. Still, nothing. That was impossible. If he had tried the same motion in the transport, his eyes would have gone white with agony. In the bed on which he now lay, however, he felt nothing at all.\n\nThe room's only door swung inward. Vincent shrank back against the pillow behind him.\n\n\"Hello, Vincent.\"\n\nA woman stepped through the opening. She had a squat, sturdy frame and a hardened face, with eyelids that sagged farther than normal over her eyes.\n\nVincent shifted and felt something tug at his arm. Tracing the pressure down to his wrist, he saw a tube protruding from a small hole in his skin. \"Where am I?\" he asked. \"Where's Jessica?\"\n\n\"She's in the next room,\" the woman said back.\n\n\"How did we get here?\"\n\n\"In that odd-looking car. Jack spotted you when you came racing in. You nearly hit him.\"\n\n\"Jack?\"\n\n\"My husband.\"\n\nFrom the bag over her shoulder, the woman removed a thin notepad and began scrawling on it. Vincent turned to the room's only window, but he could see nothing but wisps of white vaporous clouds and the open sky behind them. He turned to the door, which had been left ajar. He could see a hallway beyond, but nothing further.\n\n\"Where's Jessica?\" he repeated.\n\n\"Jack is taking care of her,\" said the woman. \"She refused any treatment until she was convinced you would be okay.\" The woman made one final scribble, then plunged the book into her bag. She stood upright. \"Let me check a few things.\" She leaned closer to him, but Vincent recoiled.\n\n\"It's okay, Vincent. You're safe.\"\n\n\"How do you know my name?\"\n\n\"Jessica told us.\"\n\n\"And where are we?\"\n\n\"The city of Washing.\"\n\nVincent turned to the window, but as before, he could see nothing but open sky. \"Who are you?\"\n\n\"Abigail. Now stay still.\"\n\nWithout waiting for permission, the woman leaned closer to him and inserted a funneled device into his ear. She hunched over to peer through it.\n\n\"Other side.\"\n\nShe pulled his left arm so he rolled onto his side, and she repeated the procedure in his other ear.\n\n\"What are you doing?\" asked Vincent.\n\n\"On your back.\" Abigail prodded him, gently, to resume his previous position. When he did, she took hold of his wrist – the one without the tube protruding from it – and took his pulse. \"Good,\" she said, then released his wrist. \"Now for your eyes.\"\n\nShe leaned over him, and Vincent backed away once again. \"It's okay,\" she said. \"I just want to make sure I didn't miss anything.\"\n\nRelenting, but keeping his eyes on the open door opposite the window, Vincent stayed still. Abigail leaned forward so their faces were only inches apart, and she peered once again through the funneled device.\n\n\"They look different than I remember,\" she said. Vincent could feel the wind of her words against his cheeks.\n\n\"My eyes?\"\n\n\"Your Lenses. Is this how they all look now?\"\n\nVincent frowned as Abigail switched her inspection to his other eye. \"What do you mean? Mine are just the same as yours.\"\n\n\"I don't wear Lenses. No one in Washing does.\" She opened her eyes wide. Beyond the grayish blue of her irises, there was no trace of the usual thin line. Her eyes were bare.\n\n\"But...\" Vincent struggled to form words. \"How do you engage your simulations and—\" He held up his left hand on reflex and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the faint outline of THE SIM.\n\n\"Pardon?\"\n\n\"Sorry.\" Vincent formed his hand into a fist. \"I was asking how you engage your simulations. And send messages and access the network. Do you not do any of that?\"\n\nAbigail smiled once again. There was a far off, nostalgic quality to her tone. \"I've heard those questions before. You're from a Seclusion, aren't you?\"\n\nVincent nodded.\n\n\"We don't watch simulations,\" she said. \"Unlike the other cities. And we don't _send_ messages; we carry them ourselves.\" She glanced out the window, a haze over her gray-blue eyes. \"As for the network, I haven't been connected to that for years. The Lenses are the only devices capable of connecting. And other Newsight products, of course.\"\n\n\"But my mother said the cities were being shipped new Lenses,\" said Vincent. \"Why don't you use those?\"\n\nAbigail shook her head. \"Only the people who left Washing received the upgrade. Those who stayed, like my husband and I, did not.\"\n\n\"Why would you have to go somewhere else to wear Lenses?\" Vincent thought back to the management sector in the Seclusion. \"Is the whole city off network?\"\n\nAbigail squinted, tilting her head in thought. \"I suppose you could say that. It was our choice, one not many other cities shared.\"\n\n\"You mean you could choose?\" pressed Vincent. \"Whether or not to wear Lenses?\"\n\n\"Whether or not to make them standard,\" corrected Abigail, \"so that everyone would wear them. In the end, we voted against it. There were too many protests to do anything but. Those times are long past, though. Now the only thing we can do is stock up supplies for the Order attack.\"\n\n\"So you're not _from_ the Order?\"\n\nAbigail looked appalled. \"I most certainly am not. I'm no terrorist.\"\n\nVincent sighed. It had been a ludicrous hope.\n\n\"But enough of all this,\" she said, standing up straight. \"The attack will be soon. We need to hurry back.\"\n\n\"Back where?\"\n\n\"The Hole.\"\n\nVincent frowned. He looked at Abigail, then out the window. An entire city that didn't wear Lenses – it was a compelling thought. The place called the Hole, however, was less compelling.\n\n\"You don't have to come with us, of course,\" said Abigail. \"But you should. If you want any chance of surviving the attack.\"\n\n\"How do you know there's going to be an attack?\"\n\n\"We know.\" She seemed to think the answer was sufficient. \"How do you feel?\"\n\nAt first, Vincent made no response. He had no reason to mistrust the woman – more reason, conversely, to thank her – but he remained far from comfortable. Still, after a pause, and keeping his distance, he sat up in the bed and twisted his back as a test. The shooting pain that had consumed him inside the overturned transport was completely absent. \"A lot better,\" he said, surprised. \"What did you do to me?\"\n\n\"I didn't do much of anything. It was the injections that did most of it.\"\n\nVincent frowned. Newsight's medical injections were the saving grace of the Seclusion. Here, however, he hadn't expected them to be used.\n\n\"Now, let me take this out for you,\" said Abigail. Before Vincent could ask what she was talking about, she removed the needle from his wrist with a flourish. He winced. \"All set. Can you walk?\"\n\nVincent wasn't sure of the answer. He swung his legs over the edge of the mattress, then stood and took a step forward. His knees wobbled at first from weakness but grew steady after another step. \"I'm fine,\" he said.\n\nAbigail nodded, patting him again. \"Then come with me.\" She turned and started, rather slowly so he could keep up, for the door. \"Your friend is in the next room.\"\n\nAt the thought of seeing Jessica, Vincent forced some extra energy into his step. Moments later they were in the hallway, a long, dim stretch of empty floor. On either side of them every few yards, doors lined the walls – walls, Vincent noticed, that were completely straight, blocked at the corners with right angles unlike the usual curves of the Seclusion.\n\n\"Right here.\"\n\nAbigail came to a door on the other side of the hall and opened it without knocking. Jessica was lying on a bed much like Vincent's, in a room almost exactly like his. This room's window, however, had an altogether different view. Dark outlines of distant towers formed a single, castle-like unit on the horizon, obscured only by the vapory clouds that hung around their edges.\n\nA stout man with close-cropped hair knelt over Jessica's bed, talking to her as he checked the machine at her side. When he saw them, he nodded in their direction. Jessica followed his gaze.\n\n\"Vincent? You're walking!\"\n\n\"And well, too,\" said Abigail. She smiled at Vincent, then turned to her husband. \"Jack, I think we're ready.\"\n\nJack stood from his position next to the machine. \"Good. This one has been trying to get out of bed ever since she woke up.\"\n\n\"I told you, I feel fine,\" said Jessica. She held out her arm, the one still attached to the tube, expectant. Vincent smiled. Shaking his head, but grinning slightly, Jack unhooked her.\n\nJessica kept her gaze on Vincent. \"I think we should go with them,\" she said. Vincent was taken aback.\n\n\"Well, we should at least talk about it first,\" he said.\n\n\"What's there to talk about? It's a city without Lenses. If anyone knows who we're looking for—\" she glanced down at Vincent's left wrist – \"they'll be here.\"\n\nVincent opened his mouth to protest, but Abigail cut him off.\n\n\"If you're looking for help that's not medical, we won't be able to do much. You'll need Kendra.\"\n\nJack nodded in agreement. \"She's your best bet, whatever you need.\"\n\n\"And she's at this Hole place?\" said Jessica. \"We can talk to her?\"\n\n\"She knows us,\" said Jack. \"She'll talk to you if we ask her to.\"\n\nJessica got to her feet and looked to Vincent. Vincent held her gaze for a second before turning to their caretakers. He looked at their eyes – actual eyes, not Lenses – and in that moment, in spite of everything, he felt inexplicably safe. He turned back to Jessica. \"Okay,\" he said. \"Let's go.\"\n\n* * * * * *\n\nThe four of them pushed through a thick metal door at the bottom of the stairwell. They emerged outside into a stifling stillness, everything silent but the whispering sound of the breeze. They stood next to a pair of four-wheeled vehicles. The first was curved and enclosed all the way around, the second longer and open at the back.\n\n\"Abigail, you want to take the young lady in the van?\" asked Jack. \"Vincent and I can take the truck.\"\n\n\"Why can't we just follow you in our transport?\" asked Vincent.\n\n\"The transport died on the way here,\" said Jessica. \"They found us a few blocks over.\"\n\n\"But like Jack said,\" added Abigail, \"we can take you. Jessica and I will take the van and you and Jack can follow in the truck.\"\n\nJack nodded in agreement. \"We'll see you in a minute, then.\"\n\nWith a reassuring look at Vincent, Abigail put her arm around Jessica – who hesitated hardly at all – and ushered her to the van.\n\n\"Come on,\" said Jack. Turning, Vincent followed him to the other vehicle. He watched as Jack pulled open the driver's side door with a jerk, then mimicked the motion with the handle of his own door. When it opened, he had to hike his leg up to climb inside.\n\n\"I almost ran into your little Newsight bike when I found you,\" said Jack. \"You're lucky I saw you in time.\"\n\nVincent nodded absently as he looked around. The inside was far different from Simon's transport, darker for one, and more complicated. The street they were on, too, was different, not a smooth, dazzling white, but a grainy gray, and not with uniform domes along its edge but with sporadically spaced restaurants and short, vacant storefronts.\n\nJack pulled a key from his pocket and inserted it into the dash. Vincent jumped when the vehicle roared to life.\n\n\"The Hole isn't far, but it _is_ in the city.\"\n\n\"You mean toward the towers?\" said Vincent.\n\n\"The skyscrapers,\" said Jack. \"Yeah.\"\n\nVincent looked out the windshield. He could still see the tips of the skyline he had seen from Jessica's room.\n\nHis concentration was broken when the vehicle lurched forward. He grabbed onto the side of the door in spite of himself. Simon's transport had been one thing – that ride had been smooth and quiet – Jack's machine was quite another.\n\n\"Who were you running from?\" asked Jack.\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"Before your transport died.\" Jack was ignoring the road – his eyes were on Vincent. \"Your friend was driving like a bat out of hell. You had to have been running from _some_ one.\"\n\n\"We weren't running,\" said Vincent. He wasn't sure what made him lie. For some reason, though, it seemed the only option.\n\n\"Ah.\" Jack turned to the road. He pressed a button to his left and his window slid down into the door. Almost instantly, Vincent's nose was filled with a pungent, sticky scent.\n\n\"Does this not run on a power cell?\" he asked.\n\nJack snorted. \"Power cell?\" He removed his eyes from the road for several seconds at a time to look at Vincent. \"They don't teach you anything in the Seclusion, do they?\"\n\n\"Yeah they do,\" said Vincent, indignant. \"The simulations teach us all sorts of things.\"\n\nJack nodded, the same way he had when Vincent had told him he and Jessica weren't running from anyone.\n\n\"I know about injections,\" pressed Vincent. \"My mother works in Incubation back in the Seclusion. She was in charge of giving sick newborns their injections.\"\n\nJack breathed out, short and sharp. His mouth hung open. \"I think you might be talking about a different kind of injection.\"\n\nVincent frowned, but he didn't argue. \"Well, I know about the cities. I know about the Order attacks.\"\n\nJack lifted his eyebrows at this. \"Really? They told you about the warnings?\"\n\nVincent nodded, trying to hide his confusion. Jack wasn't fooled.\n\n\"Other cities have been attacked,\" he said, \"but not ours. Not majorly, at least. Our first large-scale contact with the Order was just a few days ago. In the outskirts, they dropped enough bombs to wipe a whole continent off the planet. The city itself wasn't hit with a single one. We just got the pamphlets.\"\n\n\"Pamphlets?\"\n\nJack nodded. \"The warning pamphlets.\"\n\n\"And what did they say?\"\n\nJack shrugged, as if it were obvious. \"The same thing as always: Leave. All the non-compliant cities have gotten them.\"\n\n\"When you say non-compliant, do you mean the cities without Lenses?\"\n\n\"That's right.\" Jack kept his gaze fixed forward as they drove. \"Washing was one of the few. No one here wanted anything to do with Lenses. Thought they were too much, too intrusive. But no one has a choice after the Order drops their pamphlets. They have to go to a standard for safety.\"\n\nVincent tilted his head.\n\n\"A standard city,\" said Jack in explanation. \"A city that requires Lenses and surveils its citizens for terrorism.\"\n\n\"But why is that where people have to go?\" He thought of Simon's ominous words the night before, of seeking help beyond the borders. \"They could leave the country or—\"\n\n\"Leave the country?\" Jack gave a hollow laugh. \"As if there were anywhere to leave _for_. And even if there were, no one would make it there. The Order would see to that.\"\n\n\"And what about people who stay after the warnings? People like you?\"\n\n\"People like us will be free. That doesn't mean any of us will survive, but that guarantee exists only in the standards.\"\n\n\"Well if the standards are always spying through your Lenses, that guarantee isn't worth it.\"\n\n\"It is to people with families. To survivors who watched their friends die in the attacks. For them the safety of constant surveillance outweighs the freedom they lose from it. Throw in the sims, and people are more than willing to make the trade.\"\n\n\"The sims? You mean in the schools?\"\n\nJack frowned for a second, then, seeming to realize something, he shook his head. \"You're thinking of the Seclusions. In the cities the sims are different. There's no learning, just recreation. Just fantasies.\"\n\nHe turned back to the road, eyes fogging over once again. Vincent waited for him to continue, but the only sounds that followed were the sputters and kicks of the engine. Sighing, and feeling more lost than before, Vincent turned to the window. He leaned against it so his forehead vibrated against the glass, and he watched the road.\n\nSeveral minutes later, the towers that had once been small silhouettes against the sky now blocked the horizon completely. As the vehicle – the truck, Jack called it – drew closer, Vincent felt like a mouse approaching the edge of some great jungle. The towers were in denser proximity than he had thought, clustered in blocked-off groves and flanked on all sides by gray-stone paths. Only a little way down the first of these paths, Abigail rolled the van to a stop in front of them. Jack followed suit close behind.\n\n\"Are we here?\" asked Vincent.\n\n\"Close as we can get in the vehicles.\" Jack opened his door and jumped out. \"We'll walk the rest of the way. The Hole is only a few blocks up.\"\n\nVincent climbed from the truck. The pungent smell that had hit him when Jack first rolled down his window struck him again, stronger this time. In front of them, Abigail and Jessica climbed from the van. Jack took the lead without a sound. There was an eerie silence on the street that didn't seem to want to be broken. It extended indefinitely ahead, no transports, no gray-suited men, no movement. The only noise was the echo of their own footsteps.\n\nThey continued like that until they had crossed two roads running perpendicular to theirs. Jack brought them to a stop in front of a wide, open-air structure with stone ramps lining the inside.\n\n\"This is it,\" he said, looking at the unimpressive five-story parking garage in front of them. \"Let me do the talking.\"\n\nVincent nodded, and Jessica followed suit. Satisfied, Jack turned around. He took the lead once again, this time heading for a vehicle-shaped opening in the building's side. The hair on Vincent's arms began to rise. He suddenly felt cold – something about the building's unlit interior and damp stone walls made him uneasy.\n\n\"You live here?\" he asked, his voice low, as they approached.\n\n\"It's where all the stayers live,\" said Jack. \"We've been working on it for years.\"\n\nVincent said nothing back. They had entered the opening, and the dark, soil-scented air of the place seemed to hold the words in his throat. The echo of their footsteps was even louder now, but it was distorted, too, altered by the vehicles scattered up and down the ramps at odd angles, parked and deserted.\n\n\"We're headed down,\" said Jack, pointing to a stairwell to their left. \"The Hole is on the two basement levels.\"\n\nJack had lowered his voice. The usual gruff tone there had been replaced by something more cautious.\n\nVincent kept his head on a swivel as they started for the stairs. It was all too easy to imagine a swarm of ashen-suited men rushing from the shadows. Jack seemed equally alert, though Vincent wasn't sure what the man was watching for.\n\nThey pushed through a solid metal door into the stairwell, then paused for a moment to let their eyes adjust to the darkness. As they started down the first flight, they stayed as close to Jack as possible without kicking his heels.\n\n\"Stand next to us,\" said Abigail, when they had reached the bottom platform. \"So they can see you.\"\n\nVincent and Jessica stepped forward between their escorts, staring at a door exactly like the one they had pushed through above.\n\nJack knocked on the door three times, with a slight gap between the second and third knocks. After a pause, the darkness gave way to a blinding light. Vincent brought his hands up on instinct, shielding his eyes. He thought the light was coming from above, but he wasn't sure.\n\nA woman's voice, stern and unyielding, called out to them. \"The newcomers?\"\n\n\"Our niece and nephew.\"\n\nThere was silence while the lights continued to shine. Vincent managed to open his eyes long enough to see the door. A slit had opened to expose a narrow, squinting set of eyes.\n\nThe lights above them dimmed, and the door swung inward, filling the stairwell with a mechanical racket.\n\n\"In,\" said Jack – he had to raise his voice to be heard over the sound – and led them inside. The space they stepped into was, in layout, exactly the same as the story above them, but in all other ways completely different. It was much better lit, illuminated in every corner by white, fluorescent bulbs strung to the reinforced ceiling. Cubed structures with rusted metal walls and tattered sheet doors lined the main ramp, and tables displaying shoes or food or some other necessity formed a miniature market to the left. It wasn't until Vincent turned to the right that he realized what was making the racket. A pointed, rotating machine was burrowing into the rock of the far wall. It filled the room with the grinding of metal on stone, and provided every other sound – those that could be heard, at least – with a constant backdrop.\n\n\"I've paged Kendra!\" The woman who had spoken to them through the stairwell door stood right in front of them, but she had to shout to be heard. \"She will have to approve the children!\" She waved at an idle group of dust-covered men next to the machine burrowing through the wall, and they started over. \"Stay here!\" She yelled once again. A plume of dust rose off her tattered brown shirt as she walked away.\n\nVincent turned to Jack, but the man wasn't looking at him. His eyes were locked on the half-dozen rough-looking men walking in their direction.\n\n\"Jack?\" shouted the man at the front of the group. He shook Jack's hand. \"Who are your friends?\"\n\nVincent felt the man's eyes roam over the scratches on his face, then the splatters of blood on his clothes.\n\n\"This is my nephew, Vincent,\" said Jack, curling his hand protectively around the back of Vincent's neck. \"And this is my niece, Jessica.\" Then, when he saw the man's gaze lingering on their bloodied clothes, added, \"They were in a car crash.\"\n\nThe man snorted. \"Lot of traffic out there.\" He brushed his dust-covered hands off on his equally dust-covered pants, and stepped forward, right hand extended. \"Name's Bill. Nice to meet you, Vincent.\"\n\nVincent hesitated for a moment, then took the man's outstretched hand. But they didn't shake. Bill had frozen. A look of horror had begun to spread across his face. His mouth pried open in disbelief; his free hand shot down to his belt.\n\nVincent watched, hardly realizing what was happening before finding his eyes drawn in close, not on his Lenses, but on the barrel of Bill's gun.\nChapter 9 – The Runaway\n\nJack raised his hands in front of his chest and spoke with a shaking voice. \"Put the gun down, Bill.\"\n\n\"He's wearing Lenses,\" said Bill. \"The girl too.\"\n\nAt these last words, two other men from the circle drew weapons from their jackets. They pointed them at Jessica.\n\n\"You led them right to us,\" said Bill. He slid his finger further down the trigger. \"They'll see everything.\"\n\n\"They're disabled,\" said Abigail, trying to calm the man down. \"I double-checked.\"\n\n\"You can't turn them off, Abby,\" said Bill. His eyes were still on Vincent. \"You know that.\"\n\n\"They were already off!\" said Jack. The words were rushing out now. \"They're from the Seclusion to the east. They must know how to turn them off there.\"\n\n\"I thought you said they were family.\"\n\n\"I didn't want to cause any trouble.\"\n\nBill laughed, a desperate, unrestrained sound. \"Too late for that. But maybe not too late to stop all this from getting back to them.\"\n\nBill breathed in deep as he took a step back, still with the gun pointed at Vincent's head. He curled his finger a hair tighter toward the crescent.\n\n\"Bill he's just a boy,\" pleaded Jack. \"The Lenses are off. Please. Please...\"\n\nThe rest of his words were drowned out by the deafening grind of the machine. Vincent could only watch, staring at the small hole at the end of the gun, at Bill's fingertip as it grew closer and closer to his palm, pulling the trigger along with it...\n\n\"Stop!\"\n\nA short, round-faced woman was scuttling down the main ramp as quickly as her legs would allow.\n\n\"Put that thing down, Bill,\" she said. \"And turn off that damn drill.\"\n\nAlmost instantly, the grinding came to a halt. The sound continued to echo in Vincent's skull for a few seconds before it faded completely.\n\n\"They're wearing Lenses, Kendra,\" said Bill.\n\nKendra turned to Jack. \"Is that true?\"\n\n\"Abigail says they're disabled.\"\n\n\"Then disabled they are.\" Kendra continued down the ramp with no further interrogation. She shot a sharp look at Bill, whose gun was still pointed at Vincent. \"What did I say?\"\n\nBill turned to her, then back to Vincent and Jessica. Scowling at them, he lowered his aim.\n\n\"Abigail knows better than most.\" Kendra came to a stop and took a second to catch her breath. She gave Vincent a scrutinizing glare before starting back the way she'd come. \"Jack, bring them up.\"\n\nJack and Abigail herded them along after her, with the occasional nervous glance back at Bill. As they walked, men and women emerged from their metal shack structures to watch. They wore the same dust-covered attire as the men by the drill, and their eyes showed similar traces of suspicion.\n\n\"Don't mind them,\" whispered Kendra. \"They won't try anything with me here.\"\n\nVincent looked away, but he continued to feel the heat of a dozen stares on his back. He couldn't breathe normally again until they reached the top of the ramp.\n\n\"You should have known better than to bring kids with Lenses here, Jack.\"\n\nThey had stopped in a little nook just out of sight of the ramp. There was a double set of what looked like home-made doors to their left.\n\n\"I didn't think the lights would be on during the day,\" said Jack. \"No one would have noticed without them.\" He glanced around the corner back down the ramp. \"I'm sorry for the trouble.\"\n\nKendra glowered at him for a moment, but she softened almost immediately and turned to Vincent and Jessica. \"And what of these two? Your niece and nephew, you said?\"\n\nVincent could tell by the woman's tone she could smell the lie.\n\n\"We needed to make sure they got past the door,\" said Abigail. She paused, glancing behind them. \"They're from a Seclusion, Kendra.\"\n\nKendra lifted her brow. \"The same one as before?\"\n\nAbigail hesitated, casting Vincent and Jessica a worried glance, then nodded.\n\n\"Well, have you told them about him?\" Kendra spoke with a gentle, prodding quality to her voice. \"I could if you'd rather not.\"\n\nAbigail held her gaze for a beat, her face unreadable, then turned with glassy eyes to Vincent and Jessica.\n\n\"It's okay, Abby,\" said Jack. \"We don't have to stay.\"\n\nAbigail stared at them for a second longer, then, with a breath, looked up at Kendra. \"Okay,\" she said.\n\nKendra placed an arm on her shoulder. \"I'll send them down when I'm done.\"\n\nAbigail cast Vincent and Jessica one last glance, then turned and started for the ramp. Nodding to them, Jack followed close behind.\n\n\"Come on,\" said Kendra, watching them go. \"This way.\" She started for the doors. With a confused look at one another, Vincent and Jessica did the same.\n\n\"Sorry for that,\" she said, when the doors had closed behind them. \"And sorry for the mess.\"\n\nHolding back the parade of questions in his mind, Vincent looked around. The floor was the same gray stone as everywhere else, only here it was littered with supplies, some Vincent recognized, some he didn't. A pile of books was strewn across what, somewhere underneath, must be the dining room table. Small, framed pictures dominated the rest of the space, hung with no real order from the sheet metal walls or scattered amidst the supplies on the floor.\n\n\"It's been hectic the last few days,\" said Kendra. \"With the drilling.\"\n\n\"I like it,\" said Jessica.\n\n\"Thank you, dear.\" Kendra motioned to the book-buried table. \"Why don't you two have a seat?\"\n\nCareful not to disturb the precarious-looking mound, they lowered themselves into two hard-backed chairs at the table's edge. Kendra took a seat next to them.\n\n\"You ran away from the Seclusion.\" She didn't pose it as a question, as Jack had. \"Why?\"\n\n\"It wasn't a choice,\" said Jessica. \"They took our parents. We _had_ to leave.\"\n\n\"Leave and go where?\"\n\n\"For help. For the nearest city.\"\n\n\"Or country,\" added Vincent.\n\nJessica shot him a questioning glance, but Kendra stayed expressionless, strumming her fingers on the table. She shrugged. \"Well you're doing better than he did, anyway. _He_ didn't even know what he was looking for.\"\n\n\"Who's _he_?\" asked Jessica. \"Who do you keep talking about?\"\n\n\"The only other Seclusion runaway we've gotten. His name was John. _Is_ John, I hope.\"\n\nVincent and Jessica exchanged a look. They had heard that name before, in Brian's dome: the older brother who was never in school, who Brian knew nothing about.\n\n\"He knew he was looking for the Order,\" continued Kendra. \"The original Order, I mean – the protestors. But he had no clue how to find them. He might still have been here looking had they not come for him.\"\n\n\"The Order came?\" asked Vincent. \"They found him?\"\n\nKendra shook her head. \"Not they. Just one man. He was very tall, just skin and bones, and his eyes... it looked like they had been gouged out and burnt on the insides.\" She shivered, as if to shake the memory from her mind. \"He was from the Order, said he _was_ the Order. If you're in such circles you'll already know his name.\"\n\nVincent thought back to their conversation with Brian, to the man without eyes said to be the Order's leader. \"George Goodwin.\"\n\nKendra gave a solemn nod. \"Abigail was distraught when he took John away. She can hardly stand to talk about the Order now.\"\n\n\"Do you know anything about them?\" asked Vincent. \"Do you know if they can rescue our parents?\"\n\n\"I couldn't tell you for sure,\" said Kendra, \"but if anyone can help, they can.\"\n\n\"When did John leave with them?\"\n\n\"Around five years ago.\"\n\n\"And what happened to him after that?\"\n\n\"I don't know. If he hadn't sent us a package last night, I would've have had no clue where he was.\"\n\nJessica scooted forward in her seat. \"Last night was the first time you've heard from him?\"\n\n\"First time since he left. He's in a city again, a standard called Hux in some place named Halo North. He must have struggled to send anything at all past Newsight's security, but for the life of me I can't see why he bothered. The package is supposed to go with Lenses, and you saw how kindly our people take to those.\"\n\nVincent and Jessica looked at one another again. \"What did he send?\" asked Vincent.\n\nKendra shook her head, pursing her lips as she thought. \"You're probably too young to remember, but when Lenses first came out, simulations came on tiny bits of film called sim prints.\"\n\n\"We've heard of them,\" said Jessica. The plastic Lens case adhered to Vincent's hand seemed to grow a bit stickier.\n\n\"Then you'll know they're meaningless without Lenses. We've had no way to test them.\" She squinted at Vincent, then at Jessica, sizing them up one last time. \"Do you think you could take a look?\"\n\n\"Definitely,\" they said at once.\n\nKendra nodded, grinning. \"Then wait here.\" She stood from the table and pushed through a curtain into the next room. Several seconds later, she returned with a round white container the size of her palm. \"They come in these,\" she said. \"Look.\"\n\nTaking the container, Vincent unsealed it and looked inside. There were two finger-sized discs, one labeled with a letter \"M\", the other with an \"F\", and both with the number \"17\".\n\nKendra produced a crumpled sheet of paper. \"It came with a message, too: 'For anyone with Lenses who wishes to enter the city.'\"\n\n\"That's it?\" asked Vincent.\n\n\"See for yourself.\"\n\nVincent took the note. The paper was brittle, and the writing on it barely legible. There were smudges on the edges, and the end of each word slurred into the beginning of the next, rushed.\n\n\"Look,\" said Jessica.\n\nShe had opened one of the discs and emptied the contents into her palm: two miniscule, hair-width slips of film in the shape of Lenses. They glinted with spider-like fibers in intricate patterns, but seen in anything but the exact right angle, they were as clear as glass.\n\n\"ID prints,\" said Vincent, in awe. He turned to Kendra to explain. \"They come on every pair of Lenses. It's where Newsight stores personal information. They started out with iris and facial recognition, but it wasn't accurate enough. They've been using prints for the past three or four models.\"\n\nKendra's expression dawned with understanding. \"You must need to wear them over your Lenses to make it through the city checkpoint. They're fake IDs.\"\n\n\"But they're not fake,\" said Jessica, frowning. \"My dad used to talk about ID prints. He says they're impossible to replicate. These must have come off of real Lenses.\" She found a small label on the inside of the disc. \"This one says 'Lena Carlson'. Even if you fooled the checkpoint, you wouldn't fool anyone who knew the real Lena.\"\n\nKendra peered at the things for a moment, brow scrunched, then shook her head. \"John would have thought of that. He would have chosen people without family, people who can fly under the radar. They must have some sort of cover story.\"\n\nJessica looked unconvinced but said nothing. Vincent inspected the thin slips of film in her hand, then the unopened disc in his own. He pried open the top – \"Ben Carlson\" was printed on the inside. \"When did you say these got here?\" he asked.\n\n\"Last night,\" said Kendra.\n\nVincent's mind started to race. John seemed to have known they would be coming, and the only way he could have known was through Lynn. It was an electrifying feeling – they weren't as alone as they thought.\n\n\"Is there any way we can get to the city?\" asked Vincent.\n\nKendra raised a brow, taken aback. \"Just because you _can_ get in doesn't mean you _should_. Have you not heard what I've been saying?\"\n\n\"I have, but if the city is where the Order is, that's where we need to be.\" He looked at Jessica, and she nodded in agreement.\n\n\"You're as stubborn as he was,\" said Kendra. A hint of a smile played across her lips, but it faded quickly. \"Jack is driving a bus to Hux tonight before the attack, for the people with cold feet about staying. If you're sure you want to go, there are still open seats.\"\n\n\"We'll go,\" said Jessica without hesitation. She looked down at the ID prints in her hand. \"Would you mind if we use these?\"\n\n\"Take them. The label with John's address, as well. If you plan to look for the Order, and I'm not saying you should, you'll need John. I'm sure he has a way of talking to you without being surveilled.\" She smiled, a bit unconvincingly, then stood. \"Jack and Abigail will be waiting for you. You'd best not mention this to them, though, especially not to Abby. She doesn't like talking about it.\"\n\nVincent and Jessica gathered their new identities and stood from their seats. \"Thank you,\" said Vincent. \"We won't tell them anything.\"\n\nKendra nodded and her expression became suddenly absent, as if they had already left. Taking their cue, they started for the door.\n\n\"Children?\"\n\nThey turned around.\n\n\"If the Order is real,\" said Kendra, expression still blank, \"and John is a part of it, can you give him a message for me?\"\n\n\"Of course,\" said Vincent. \"What is it?\"\n\nKendra took a breath, hesitating, as if deciding whether or not to speak. After a pause, she seemed unable to hold the words back any longer. \"Tell him to come back for us.\"\nChapter 10 – Hux\n\nVincent's eyelids fluttered open. He reached his arms up to stretch and knocked his fist against a window. Next to him, Jessica awoke from the noise. She raised her head from the glass and rubbed her eyes, blocking the morning light.\n\nThey were on the bus. They had spent the previous evening adhering the ID prints to their Lenses, and Jessica memorizing the nine or so digits that made up John's address. The rest of their plan, they had no choice but to leave to John.\n\nVincent looked outside to their right. The ground was exactly as it had been when he'd fallen asleep: barren for as far as he could see, no life, no color.\n\nJessica stifled a yawn and nodded toward the front of the bus. \"I think we're close.\"\n\nVincent leaned over and looked down the aisle. The view out the front window was far from barren – they were approaching the city. A perfect circle several miles wide, Hux stood as a vast expanse of skyscrapers, all huddled together in a dense, patternless cluster. But unlike those around the Hole, these towers had polished windows that sparkled in the sunlight and designs Vincent had never imagined. There appeared to be things flying between them, as well, tiny white dots soaring from one rooftop to the next, like urban houseflies. Below, the city was surrounded by six enormous white rings.\n\n\"The halos,\" said Jessica.\n\n\"Did Washing have them, too?\" asked Vincent. \"When you drove us in?\"\n\n\"No. The other city had no reason to keep people out.\"\n\n\"Or in,\" Vincent added. Jessica said nothing back, staring instead at the structures ahead. The bottommost halo was perfectly flat and low to the ground, but the others were tilted at slight angles, their edges rising halfway up the skyscrapers they encircled. They reminded Vincent of rings that had been dropped horizontally on a table and caught mid-wobble before they could stop.\n\n\"Ladies and gentlemen.\" It was Jack's voice, amplified through the bus's speaker system. \"We are approaching Hux.\"\n\n* * * * * *\n\nWhen the bus came to a stop, the flying dots Vincent had seen from afar were in much clearer focus. They were shaped suspiciously like the pods of transports. The halos, too, looked quite different. They were as wide across as the towers they protected, and their edges were dangerously sharp. On their outermost side, facing away from the city, was written a short phrase in thin, capital letters: THERE IS NO FEAR WITHOUT HOPE.\n\n\"This is as close as I can get you,\" Jack called back to the passengers. \"When you're ready, you're free to get in line outside of the halos.\"\n\nVincent and Jessica stood with the rest of the riders and pushed their way into the aisle.\n\nJack hurried people from the bus with hasty well-wishes. \"Good luck. Yes, ma'am, good luck.\" When they reached him, his tone became grave. \"And to you two the very best of luck.\"\n\nThey nodded to him, and as they climbed the few steps toward the outdoors, his tone returned to normal. \"Good luck to you, sir. Good luck...\"\n\nJessica stopped in her tracks once they were outside.\n\n\"I guess this is the line?\"\n\nVincent followed her gaze. From the row of kiosks below the giant halos ahead, a line of a few dozen people extended outward.\n\nJessica led the way to the back.\n\n\"... no, no we left yesterday morning but the traffic was terrible.\"\n\nVincent spotted the owner of the voice instantly as they approached: a tall, round man wearing clothes similar to the ones worn by people in the Hole.\n\n\"We ended up just pulling to the side of the road and waiting,\" the man continued. \"The kids are still asleep. It's been a long day for them.\"\n\nVincent and Jessica settled in behind the man. It wasn't clear who exactly he was talking to. The family in front of him wasn't paying him any mind.\n\n\"Hello there,\" the man said, turning around. \"Name's Jim.\"\n\nVincent looked up. \"I'm Ben.\" It took him a moment to form his lips around his new name. \"Nice to meet you.\"\n\nThe man grabbed onto Vincent's hand and shook it without invitation.\n\n\"Nice to meet you as well, Ben,\" he said. \"And the pretty young lady?\"\n\n\"Lena.\" Jessica smiled curtly and turned to Vincent. It was a clear signal the conversation was over, but Jim didn't appear to notice.\n\n\"Where are you two lovebirds coming from?\" he asked.\n\nVincent's cheeks went red. Jessica sighed and turned back around. \"Washing,\" she said. \"And we're twins, not—\"\n\n\"Washing!\" said Jim. \"That's not far at all. We're from way south. My wife and I had to alternate driving through the night.\" He turned to his right and craned his neck over the line. Vincent followed his gaze. Some ways off, the road to the south was packed with hundreds of vehicles bumper to bumper. \"She's with my daughter at the moment. They're both exhausted.\"\n\nJessica was still looking at the never-ending line of vehicles. \"What are you going to do with your transport?\"\n\n\"My what?\"\n\n\"Your car,\" she corrected. \"Is there not a separate entrance?\"\n\nJim shook his head. \"You can only enter with what you can carry.\" He leaned in close and whispered at a volume Vincent felt sure the front of the line could hear. \"I tried to convince the wife to let me carry the car,\" he said, grinning, \"but she wouldn't have it.\"\n\nVincent tried his best at a fake laugh. Jim seemed satisfied with it.\n\n\"So what are you supposed to do once you get inside?\" asked Jessica as they moved forward. \"Just start over?\"\n\n\"Pretty much,\" said Jim. \"But they help you. It's part of Newsight's defense initiative. After you get your Lenses, you get a little start-up package: a place to live, clothes, a job. Even a shiny new car.\"\n\nVincent perked up at this. \"All from Newsight?\"\n\nJim nodded, beaming. \"Exciting, isn't it? This is the first time we could afford the move. They gouge you for the shuttles, so we saved up for a car instead. Took us a few months, but we're finally here.\" He shot a prideful glance at the halos ahead, eyes seeming to widen with each forward movement of the line.\n\n\"So...\" Jessica started, but she seemed to be having trouble processing something. \"You actually _wanted_ to come here?\"\n\n\"Of course we did!\" said Jim, confused. \"Aren't you two excited?\"\n\n\"We are,\" rushed Vincent. \"Just nervous, that's all.\"\n\nJim nodded, knowingly. \"My wife's the same way. But she'll come around. And so will you. We're lucky to be here.\"\n\n\"Very lucky,\" said Jessica. Her tone was more cautious now, her voice softening as they moved closer to the kiosks. \"If you don't mind my asking, why were you so intent on moving?\"\n\n\"Same reason as everyone else,\" said Jim, \"for the protection. There were attacks a few times a week back home. Here, I've heard they only get one or two a month.\"\n\nJessica tried her best to look impressed. \"And that's because of Newsight?\"\n\n\"Yes, ma'am,\" said Jim. \"Fatrem deserves a medal for what he's doing. Tina doesn't think so, of course, no matter how many lives he's saved. She's not a fan of Lenses. Says she doesn't trust them. But you can't argue with the results, can you? Two attacks a month!\" He gave an impressed whistle, then pointed up at the giant halos, only a dozen yards off now. \"They do get past the halos every now and then. There was a cyberattack just yesterday, I heard – some message from the Order. But even Newsight isn't perfect.\"\n\n\"Those things are Newsight's?\" said Vincent.\n\n\"Of course they are. It's the air defense system. Every standard city has them to keep the Order out.\"\n\n\"And the people in.\"\n\n\"I guess so, but it's the best thing for us in the end. And it's only temporary. When the Order is finally stopped, things will go back to normal.\" Jim looked around them, as if he were about to tell some dark secret, then lowered his voice. \"When that _does_ happen, I for one hope they let us keep our Lenses.\" He glanced around them yet again. A gap widened between them and the family ahead. \"Have you heard of the simulations?\"\n\nVincent said they hadn't. He had a feeling Jim would be disappointed if they had.\n\n\"They're called Newsim,\" explained Jim. \"They're like customized dreams, virtual reality that doesn't look virtual. They're crazy expensive but you don't even have to—\"\n\n\"Daddy!\"\n\nJim spun around just in time to brace himself against the small girl hurtling toward him. She wrapped herself around his legs in a bear hug. He patted her on the back.\n\n\"Hi, sweetheart,\" he said. \"Where's Mommy?\" He looked up – a wiry woman with a heart-shaped face was a few paces off, approaching from the same direction as the girl. He grinned at her. \"Did you see me getting close?\"\n\nThe woman glanced at the family ahead of them, at the kiosks just beyond. She looked tired. \"Unfortunately,\" she said.\n\nJim sighed, but he didn't seem disheartened. Vincent doubted the emotion even existed for the man.\n\n\"Tina, this is Ben and Lena. They're from Washing.\"\n\nTina smiled politely at them, but she seemed as pleased as Jim did timid. She turned to face the kiosks – they were next in line.\n\n\"And now,\" said Jim, lifting his daughter with an exaggerated grunt, \"we're all from the same place!\" He hoisted the girl the rest of the way up onto his shoulders. She grabbed onto his ears with a gleeful giggle. Jim pulled his wife closer as well, kissing her on the cheek. \"Don't worry, love. If nothing else, at least we're safe.\"\n\nVincent looked away, needled, for some reason, by a nagging guilt.\n\n\"Next!\"\n\nJim turned around to face the speaker, a tall, stone-faced man in the white uniform of the Guard. He was standing inside the kiosk just in front of them.\n\n\"Come on,\" said Jim, turning to his family. \"It's our turn.\" He shook Vincent's hand. \"We'll see you on the other side!\"\n\nVincent watched as they started forward. Jim was already whispering excitedly to his wife.\n\n\"Next please.\"\n\nAnother man in white called out to them from several kiosks away. Vincent started forward with Jessica close behind.\n\n\"Good morning,\" said Vincent at the kiosk.\n\n\"Good morning. Where are you coming from?\"\n\n\"Washing.\"\n\n\"First time in...\" The man trailed off. He was peering at Vincent's eyes. \"You're in the wrong line. This line is for people without Lenses. You'll want to head over there.\" He pointed to a separate, empty kiosk to their left.\n\n\"Oh, sorry,\" said Vincent. The man nodded, already scanning the line behind them.\n\n\"Next!\"\n\nExchanging a nervous glance, Vincent and Jessica started over to the separate, unpopulated line.\n\n\"Good morning,\" said Vincent, when they reached the new kiosk.\n\nThe man behind the counter, reclining in his seat, looked up at them with an uninterested expression. \"Lenses?\"\n\nIn answer, Vincent leaned forward and opened his eyes wide. The man sat up in his seat for a closer look.\n\n\"Very good,\" he said, standing. \"Come through here.\" He pressed a button under his desk and a seam next to the kiosk grew into a door. He motioned them inside and led them through the small, plain white space toward a second door. \"The Guard will take care of you.\" He pressed a button on the door's side, then motioned them forward, this time giving them a little shove so they couldn't hesitate. When they were through, the door slid shut behind them.\n\nThe ceiling of the second room was several stories high, and the walls curved straight up, coming to a point at the top like an arrowhead. More men in white patrolled the halls, some carrying small white clubs, others corralling families still stepping through the other kiosks.\n\n\"You have Lenses?\" A bored-looking man in white stood from his seat when he saw them.\n\n\"Yes, sir,\" said Vincent.\n\nThe man picked up an arm-sized device from his chair. Its handle was straight like the white clubs, but its end flayed out into a spoon-shaped curve.\n\n\"I need to get your IDs. Step forward.\"\n\nVincent obeyed, his heart beating a little faster. The ID prints were about to be put to the test. And judging by the small squadron of Guard members straight ahead, it was a test they needed to pass.\n\n\"Open your eyes wide.\"\n\nVincent did as he was told. He found himself wishing he could silence the pounding in his chest – the man could surely hear it.\n\n\"Just a moment here.\"\n\nThe man held the curved end of the device to Vincent's right eye. It glowed white, shining directly into Vincent's unprotected pupil. He forced himself not to lower his gaze.\n\nAfter a few seconds, the guard pulled the device away. He looked at a screen on it Vincent couldn't see. \"Ben Carlson. From Hux.\" He scrolled down the screen as he spoke. \"Your record shows you left the city several months ago with temporary travel access. It also shows that your Lenses are dark.\" He looked up at Vincent, suspicious. \"Why is that?\"\n\nVincent glanced at the guard's device, then at the squadron of other Guards behind him, hands starting to sweat. \"Uh... well we... they were on until—\"\n\n\"We don't know,\" said Jessica, casting Vincent a look. \"It's... why we came back. We wanted to get them turned on.\"\n\nThe guard surveyed them with narrowed eyes. One of his companions stepped forward. \"Is there a problem here?\"\n\nThe guard glanced at the man before turning back to his device. Vincent expected a stream of security to come pouring in on them any second.\n\n\"Your record is spotless,\" said the guard. He looked puzzled. \"And you're listed as priority.\"\n\nVincent said nothing. He held his breath.\n\n\"Do you want us to take them?\" asked the other man.\n\nThe guard said nothing for a beat, then shook his head. \"That won't be necessary.\" Vincent felt a giant weight slide off his shoulders. \"But report this to Newsight.\"\n\nThe man straightened, then saluted and stalked off.\n\n\"Wait here,\" the guard said to Vincent. \"Miss.\" He motioned to Jessica, and Jessica stepped forward. Vincent held his breath once again as Jessica peered into the device. The end of it glowed white. Jessica's shoulders rose and fell a bit quicker than usual.\n\n\"Lena Carlson.\" The guard looked up from the screen. \"You're twins?\" Jessica nodded. The guard looked from her to Vincent, his expression still stony. \"Both of your Lenses will have to be reactivated. Your Newsight liaison will see that you comply.\"\n\n\"Yes, sir,\" they said in unison.\n\nThe man grunted in response. He held up the stick-shaped device and pressed a series of buttons on its side. He waved it across Jessica's body in a few passes, then started on Vincent. Vincent felt the thumping in his chest grow louder once again. He had to resist the urge to look down at his left wrist where THE SIM was still attached.\n\n\"You're good,\" said the guard.\n\nThe thumping began to soften.\n\n\"Through that door,\" he continued, pointing straight ahead. \"Your liaison will be waiting for you.\"\n\nVincent nodded obediently, then started forward with Jessica at his side. They were almost to the door when a familiar voice sounded behind them.\n\n\"Now wait a second.\"\n\nVincent's stomach turned to ice. He turned around, expecting the guard and his companions to be rushing forward, but they remained seated – and silent. The voice had come from Jim. He and his family were being scanned by a different set of Guards down the hall. Apparently, the process was not only for entrants with Lenses. \"Is something wrong?\" said Jim.\n\nThe guard servicing Jim's family held the same, white-glowing device Vincent and Jessica had been forced to stare into. Jim and his daughter had been cleared through the scan and stood next to a squadron of Guards. His wife had been shuffled off to the side.\n\n\"Just precautionary,\" said the guard. \"Our scan may have detected a virus.\"\n\n\"She's not sick!\" said Jim. \"She's been fine all morning!\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, sir,\" said the guard, trying to quiet Jim down. \"It's just protocol. I'm going to have to ask you to follow me.\" The guard motioned to one of his colleagues to come take his place, and he ushered Jim and his daughter the opposite direction down the hall.\n\n\"Are you ready?\"\n\nVincent turned around. Jessica was looking at him, expectant – they were standing in front of the tall, narrow door the guard had been talking about. Vincent took a deep breath. Jim slipped from his mind.\n\n\"Ready if you are,\" he said. With a nod, Jessica pressed the button on the door's side, and they started forward together into the city.\nChapter 11 – The Halo\n\nVincent had never seen so many people before in his life. Crowds of them jostled against one another as they walked, oblivious to everything around them but some unseen destination straight ahead. Some wore dark pants with matching dark coats that folded in the middle, but most wore the same white, high-collared jumpsuits Vincent was accustomed to. Others, mostly the crowd who were emerging from the kiosks, wore tattered, old-looking shirts like those worn in the Hole. These people – the new entrants – were escorted by men of the Guard, and carried with them an endless number of small white bags. Vincent thought of the start-up packages Jim had talked about. Entrants with Lenses, apparently, received no such gifts.\n\nThe buildings seemed even larger up close, and there was more space between them than Vincent had initially thought. At ground level, at least. The streets were wide enough to fit several transports going both directions at once (and there were several racing up and down the street, some with their drivers fast asleep), but above, the buildings seemed to morph into a single unit. Every few stories, hollow glass arches connected the sides of neighboring towers, like the clinging remnants of a giant spiderweb. And through this web, the flying transports Vincent had seen from outside zoomed with startling speed.\n\n\"The Carlsons?\"\n\nVincent followed the voice to a burly looking man a few yards off. He was starting in their direction.\n\n\"I'm your Newsight liaison,\" the man said. \"I'm told you need your Lenses reactivated.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Vincent.\n\n\"Then I'm your man.\" He motioned for them to come closer, his hulking frame clearing a path through the crowd. \"The transport is already here.\"\n\nVincent looked around for the transport but saw nothing. Jessica tapped his arm. He turned to her, then followed her finger upward. One of the flying vehicles had swooped down, with its glowing underside just a yard above them, and lowering.\n\n\"After you, miss.\" The man took Jessica by the hand as the transport lowered the rest of the way to the ground. He practically lifted her inside when the door slid down into a ramp. \"And for the gentleman.\"\n\nVincent felt his feet lift from the ground, and in a flash, he was in the pod as well. The burly man climbed in after him.\n\n\"All set.\" The man pushed the button that closed the door and leaned back. He took up one and a half of the pod's four white bucket seats. Vincent and Jessica were in the remaining two. There were no controls.\n\n\"My name is Derek,\" said the man. He shook both of their hands. \"Pleasure to meet you both. What happened with your Lenses?\"\n\n\"Just a malfunction,\" said Jessica. \"We don't really know.\"\n\nDerek frowned slightly but didn't press. \"That's quite rare, but it happens. Activation will fix you up.\"\n\n\"Is it a long procedure?\"\n\n\"Not at all. The Newsight operators will take care of you in a few minutes. It'll take more time to actually get there. We still have to cross the city.\"\n\nVincent looked out the window, surprised to see almost a hundred yards between them and the ground.\n\n\"Is the Newsight facility in the Center?\" asked Jessica.\n\n\"Heavens no. Besides a little HQ in the management sector, the only real estate they have here is the halos. We're going to the highest one on the far side of the city: Halo North.\"\n\nVincent's mouth fell open of its own accord. Jessica's eyes practically doubled in diameter. Derek seemed to notice. \"Oh don't worry,\" he said, chuckling, \"people give it a bad rap. They think just because it's the security halo that it's some sort of prison, but it's nothing special.\"\n\nVincent and Jessica exchanged a glance. Vincent felt a nauseous, floating feeling in his stomach that had nothing to do with their altitude. It was as if John were reeling them in on an invisible line, guiding them to his own address.\n\n\"Besides,\" continued Derek, \"it's the perfect excuse to fly above Newsight regulation.\" He lowered his voice, tone dramatic. \"Liaisons have special transport access from Newsight. Hardly anyone has seen Hux from as high as I have.\"\n\nVincent stared through the glass. They were level with the shorter of the skyscrapers now, and still rising. Below them, the buildings were a bit shorter than the others, and less decorative, sides made of an old, soot-darkened stone. From above they looked no more exciting than a collection of boxes arranged with perfect order on the cement.\n\n\"This is the working sector, of course,\" said Derek, \"the industrial part.\" He had shifted so his behind squeezed solely into the seat by the window, his nose pressed up close to the glass. \"Which part do your parents work in?\"\n\n\"Which part?\" repeated Vincent. He glanced at Jessica. Her posture had stiffened but she didn't turn around. \"Uh, this one, actually,\" he said. \"Industrial.\"\n\n\"Really?\" Derek raised a brow. \"Industrial families almost never get travel access.\" He kept his eyes on Vincent, apparently waiting for an explanation. Vincent felt his face go red. He opened his mouth to stutter out a reply—\n\n\"Are those Newsight factories?\" asked Jessica.\n\nDerek followed her gaze to the window, and Vincent let out a breath.\n\n\"No, ma'am. Like I said, the only Newsight building in Hux is their HQ. Now, look—\" he pointed just ahead \"–you can see the commercial part.\"\n\nBelow them, the buildings had begun to grow, taking on the look of the towers Vincent had seen from outside. Their windows were more polished than those of the plain boxes of the industrial part, and their sides were connected by dozens of the glass arches.\n\n\"It's not just right below us,\" said Derek, seeing Vincent's downward gaze. \"It's all along this half of the city, the working sector is.\"\n\nVincent turned to the right as they flew. Sure enough, the polished towers filled the entire line of sight allowed by the window. The difference between them and the short square buildings behind them was sizable.\n\n\"And now the management part,\" said Derek.\n\nThe towers grew taller the farther they flew, and the designs became more extravagant. Some were split down the middle and joined at the top like a giant, stretched-out \"n\"; others were twisted together so they resembled a double helix; others still took on the shape of a skinny, four-sided pyramid.\n\nJessica climbed out of her seat to get a better look.\n\n\"You'll recognize the Newsight headquarters,\" said Derek, smiling, \"there by the capital building.\"\n\nVincent scooted closer to the window, and instantly saw the buildings Derek was talking about. The first was actually two separate structures, extremely close to each other all the way up but not joining together until the last dozen stories. The second was a single, wider tower, the top of which was curved inward like an enormous glass bowl. Vincent knew without asking that this was the Newsight building.\n\n\"Both of them are right next to the recreation ring. To the high-end part, at least, where you can stay in the sims the whole weekend. They're the only folks who can afford it.\"\n\nThe buildings they passed began to lose their flashy designs. They were perfectly cylindrical now, polished to a sleek shine and supported, where there wasn't glass, by beams of solid white.\n\n\"Afford it?\" said Vincent. \"You mean people have to pay for simulations?\"\n\n\"Well, I don't because I'm a Newsight liaison,\" said Derek. \"And you don't because you're students, but everyone else has to empty their pockets for them. For the knock-offs they pay to customize the experience. For Newsims they just pay for access. The customization is automatic. Even if you don't know what experience you want, Newsim creates it for you.\"\n\nVincent looked again at the perfectly symmetric buildings, the ones closest to the management part. There were miniature versions of the towers as well, slightly shorter and not as well kept, spaced between their larger twins.\n\n\"And here's the main event,\" said Derek.\n\nBelow them, higher than any structure in the management part and higher, even, than the simulation towers, was what looked like the top of a giant, urbanized mushroom. Nearly a mile across, a glimmering all-glass disc was held at cloud height by dozens of symmetrical round towers. Between each neighboring set of these towers, the arches Vincent had seen along the city's outer edge were denser than ever, with two or three joining each tower to its twins every few stories. The thing was a commercially built hive, interconnected and intertwined in its supports below, and presided upon by the saucer-shaped glass disc above.\n\n\"The residences,\" said Derek. Vincent could hear a hint of pride in the man's voice. \"If you live in Hux, you have a home here. Most families live in one of the towers, but some, mostly the management workers, live in the disc.\"\n\nVincent continued to stare down at the intricate behemoth below. The disc, as Derek called it, wasn't as flat as it had first appeared. There was a slight curve to it, bowed up ever so slightly in the center.\n\nJessica peered at the thing as well, looking nervous. \"So we'll be staying here with our parents?\"\n\nVincent knew her concern perfectly well: they could fool the devices of the Guard with their prints, but Mr. and Mrs. Carlson would see through the farce in a single glance.\n\n\"No, no, you'll be staying in the dormitories,\" said Derek. \"You can come home to the residences on the weekends if you'd like, but most students stay on campus. And speaking of students...\"\n\nThey were beginning to pass over white, tower-sized domes stacked up from the ground in clusters, and spread across the pavement like the lumps of a rash.\n\n\"The schools,\" finished Derek. \"Newsight sponsored and all. They were built at the same time as the halos as part of Fatrem's initiative.\"\n\nVincent looked down at the domes. They reminded him all too clearly of the Seclusion.\n\nJessica scanned the domes for a moment as well, but she didn't focus there for long. Instead, she turned her gaze to the right, to the very edge of the window's line of sight. \"Is that all part of the schooling sector, too?\" she asked.\n\nIt was yet another field of towers, nearly a third of the city. Most of the towers were perfectly round and bleached white like those in the recreation ring.\n\n\"That's the retirement sector,\" said Derek. \"That's what everyone has to look forward to. Work long enough, behave well enough, and that's where you go. Free simulations, even Newsim. The government has a contract with Newsight.\"\n\nVincent looked over at the field of towers, stricken, without knowing why, by the stillness of them. There were no transports flying between them, nor even any arches to connect them. They merely stood there, stagnant, solitary.\n\n\"Why are there so many?\" asked Jessica. \"Are there that many elderly people in Hux?\"\n\n\"It's not just the elderly there,\" said Derek. As he said it, his eyes lingered over the nearest line of towers. \"But enough of that. Retirement is the most boring sector.\" He turned back to the front face of the window. \"This is much more exciting. The halos.\"\n\nVincent turned away from the stoic-looking towers, rather gladly, and followed Derek's gaze. They were passing over the last of the stacks of school domes below and approaching the tower-width halos around the city's perimeter.\n\n\"We're going to the activation office,\" continued Derek. \"It's not far from where we'll be entering.\"\n\nThe transport began to decelerate, and as they drew closer to the highest halo, Vincent could see the markings there. Words, again, only these formed a different phrase: THERE IS NO LOVE WITHOUT HATRED.\n\nBefore Vincent could inspect the words further, the pod had cut off his angle. Their rapid approach had come to a stop just a few yards from the halo's exterior. They stopped there, hovering for a few seconds, until a portion of the white surface slid to the side like a curtain. Vincent grabbed onto the side of the pod as they started forward, but they were through without a hitch.\n\n\"Here we are,\" said Derek. He knocked on the window they had just been looking out, and the door of the pod fell down from the top, forming a fragile-looking bridge.\n\nVincent looked around them as they followed Derek down the ramp. Halo North, like the halo they had walked through earlier that morning, looked suspiciously like a normal hallway. The doors nearest them had number labels, but these, unlike John's nine-digit address, were only a few digits in length.\n\n\"How long did you say you've been without Lenses?\" asked Derek.\n\n\"We didn't say,\" said Jessica. \"But it's only been a few days.\"\n\n\"A few days!\" Derek gave her a horrified look before taking the lead down the hall. \"I can't imagine. I can barely go without my sims for a few hours. Thank heavens I have priority access.\"\n\n\"From Newsight?\" said Jessica. \"How long have you been working for them?\"\n\n\"Oh, I don't work for them. I have priority access because I work for the Guard as a Newsight liaison. I usually deal with Order attacks but with how quiet it's been lately, I've been getting assignments like these.\"\n\n\"The Order hasn't been trying anything?\" asked Vincent.\n\n\"Well, there was a minor incident yesterday. They tapped into the network and played some sort of announcement on everyone's Lenses. But the halos stop all major attacks.\"\n\nVincent looked around them again, at the innocuous white walls and thin-looking doors. \"They don't seem like much.\"\n\n\"From the inside,\" said Derek. \"On the outside, they have sensors that can detect a missile from ten miles out. When they detect one, they form a shield over the city to stop anything from getting through.\"\n\n\"Like a dome,\" said Vincent.\n\n\"Exactly. A nearly impenetrable one, thanks to Halo North.\"\n\n\"And the halo employees,\" said Jessica, her tone a forced kind of casual, \"they live here, I assume?\"\n\n\"No, ma'am. Everyone commutes. None of the halos have apartments.\"\n\nJessica frowned. \"But while we were gone we got a package from someone who lives here. I even have the address. It's Halo North, Hux, 00529—\"\n\n\"Oh you're thinking of the postal signature,\" said Derek. \"Any package that leaves Hux is reviewed by security in Halo North and stamped for approval. The numbers are for the packages, not apartments.\"\n\nJessica turned to Vincent, lips still parted in a silent question. The empty feeling in Vincent's stomach returned. They had checked only John's most recent package. The numbers on the others could have been wildly different, randomized and meaningless. John's invisible line reeling them in had snapped in two.\n\n\"Here we are,\" said Derek. They came to a stop at a door with a line of white, stiff-backed chairs outside. \"They know you're coming, but let me make sure they're ready for you. Go ahead and have a seat.\"\n\nDerek disappeared through the door, leaving Vincent and Jessica alone in the hall.\n\n\"Do you think he was telling the truth?\" asked Jessica.\n\n\"He has no reason to lie.\"\n\n\"But Kendra said—\"\n\n\"Kendra's never been here. She probably just assumed all the labels were the same.\"\n\nJessica deflated. \"So what are we going to do? We don't have time to think of anything else.\"\n\n\"We will once we get to the dormitories,\" said Vincent. \"Or whatever he called them.\"\n\nJessica shook her head. \"We're about to be back on the grid, Vincent. As Ben and Lena Carlson. They'll be watching us.\"\n\nVincent realized what she was saying. Communicating, about anything important, at least, would be impossible after their Lenses were reactivated. Vincent glanced at the door.\n\n\"Well we know we need to find John. He's our only way to the Order.\"\n\n\"But it's been so long that I don't know if I'd recognize him. And you saw this place, it's massive.\"\n\nVincent thought for a moment. \"How much older than us is he?\"\n\n\"A few years at least.\"\n\n\"So he'll be out of school. We know that much.\"\n\n\"That means he'll be in the working sector?\"\n\nVincent shrugged. It wasn't much help. From the transport, the working sector had looked like half the city. \"What about the residences?\"\n\nJessica shook her head again. \"Derek said everyone in Hux has an apartment there. It would take ages to look through.\"\n\nVincent furrowed his brow in frustration. They were so close. The Order could be in any one of the buildings they had just flown over, or underneath any of them, and they had no way of knowing.\n\nVincent paused in his thoughts, suddenly conscious of the Lens case attached to his wrist. He was being stupid. Of course they had a way.\n\n\"THE SIM,\" he said. \"As soon as they activate our Lenses, we can watch it. It will tell us everything.\"\n\n\"It will tell _them_ everything, too. They see whatever we see. Watching THE SIM would be as good as turning ourselves in.\"\n\nShe was right, of course, Vincent knew. If Newsight saw them with THE SIM, they would be taken away before they could blink.\n\n\"What about Lynn?\" he asked. \"Can we send her a message?\"\n\n\"Not without Newsight suspecting something.\"\n\n\"So we have no way of knowing where he is. We're back where we started.\"\n\n\"That's what I've been saying, Vincent, I just don't know how to—\"\n\n\"Carlsons?\"\n\nDerek stepped through the door and held it open.\n\n\"They're ready for you.\"\n\nJessica's lips remained parted, as if held open by the words now trapped inside. Derek didn't appear to notice.\n\n\"I'll wait for you out here. Shouldn't be long.\" He moved out of their way and passed Vincent the door. With no other choice, Vincent and Jessica stepped through.\n\n\"Hello.\" A young woman wearing heels and a short, skintight dress greeted them from inside. The room was bare but for a single, reclined chair in the center and a one-sided mirror on the far wall.\n\n\"First,\" continued the woman, in her sweet but vaguely artificial voice, \"allow me to apologize for the inconvenience. Newsight values our customers a great deal, and we do everything we can to prevent malfunctions. Sometimes, however, even _we_ aren't perfect.\"\n\nShe said this last part with a smile, as if it were a surprise. She turned from them and crossed over to the reclined chair, her heels clicking against the tile as she went.\n\n\"We will diagnose the issue and have you on your way. Ladies first.\"\n\nJessica glanced at Vincent, then sat down, shuddering when the cold chair made contact with her skin.\n\n\"Good girl. Now, all you have to do is put these on over your Lenses.\"\n\nThe woman handed Jessica two dark gray, Lens-shaped devices. Vincent couldn't tell from a distance what the material was made of, but it looked like metal.\n\nWith a slight shake in her hands, Jessica dropped the things on top of her Lenses from above. Once they were both in, her eyes were no longer visible. She stared out of two sightless circles of dead gray.\n\n\"Try to relax, dear,\" said the woman. Jessica had been sitting stiff as a board. \"The diagnosis is already in progress.\"\n\nVincent watched, helpless, as Jessica attempted to steady her breathing from the seat. The eyes of the woman standing over her were out of focus.\n\n\"Your Lenses were manually disabled,\" the woman said. \"That will have to be reported.\" Her voice was still sweet, but less so than before. \"Now for the activation.\"\n\nThe tremor in Jessica's hands extended up through her arms, then her shoulders, then her neck until she shook all over. Her cheeks were sucked into her mouth so tightly her head looked more like a skull. The empty, ashen-colored coverings on her eyes only added to the image, forcing her eyelids open eerily wide. Her lips parted without a sound as she writhed in her chair. Her body contorted in odd, unnatural movements everywhere but the head. That remained, as if nailed through the eye sockets into the headrest, as if bolted there by the metallic gray Lenses.\n\nThen she was still. Her body sagged down into the seat, her head suddenly released. She panted, still shaking, as she caught her breath.\n\n\"Easy as that,\" said the woman. She removed the gray Lenses from Jessica's eyes. Beneath them, thick lines of blood spidered out from Jessica's pupils and leaked from her tear ducts.\n\nThe woman leaned forward, barely bending at the hips from the tightness of her dress, and grabbed Jessica by the hand. She pulled her up, and Jessica crossed over to Vincent, her eyes downcast, her arms crossed, wrapping herself tight.\n\n\"Now for the gentleman?\"\n\nVincent took a deep breath. He stepped forward, giving Jessica's arm a light squeeze as he passed. Without a word, he slid into the chair, his eyes on the one-sided mirror. He could see only his reflection, but he knew without a doubt he was being watched from the other side.\n\n* * * * * *\n\nVincent and Jessica walked out of the room and back into the main hall.\n\n\"All set?\" asked Derek.\n\nNeither of them spoke. Vincent was trying to keep the blood in the corners of his eyes from leaking onto his jacket, but his shaking made it impossible. Derek looked away from them.\n\n\"I've already called a transport. It should meet us at the gate.\"\n\nThe walk passed in silence. Vincent was bent a few degrees forward, careful to cradle the puddle of blood in his palms, and Jessica was looking down as well, bleeding hardly at all but shaking with visible, body-length tremors.\n\n\"Here we are,\" said Derek.\n\nThey had reached the opening in the halo they had first come through.\n\n\"I actually have some more work to do here,\" continued Derek, gaze still averted from them, \"so I'll catch the next one.\" He crossed over to the transport and pressed a button on the door. \"Whenever you're ready. It will take you to your dormitories, and a different transport will take you to school. You don't have to worry about a thing.\" He smiled at them, and he forced himself to make eye contact. When he did, his smile disappeared. He looked away again.\n\n\"On second thought, I'm sure I can arrange for you to skip the rest of the day's classes. You must be tired.\" He paused, glancing back down the hall the way they had just come. \"They gave you free access to a Newsim, didn't they?\"\n\nSlowly, as if hearing the words at a slight delay, Vincent nodded.\n\n\"Then I would enter that,\" said Derek. \"It will help you relax.\" He glanced down the hall again, then lowered his voice. \"Besides, it looks bad if you don't.\"\n\nVincent nodded once more, then started up the ramp to the pod. Jessica started up as well, but she swayed dangerously from the shaking as she went. Derek stepped forward, steadying her.\n\n\"You're all right,\" he said. \"It'll get better.\" He helped her up the ramp into the pod, not letting go until she was seated inside. After he'd returned to the hall, the ramp folded back up into the door.\n\nVincent ignored Derek's gaze as they departed. He looked straight down instead, so the blood from his tear ducts dripped between his shoes.\nChapter 12 – Simulations\n\nThe transport came to a stop on a balcony some ten stories up a cubed stack of dormitories. Vincent, glancing back at Jessica to make sure she was steady on her feet, started down the ramp. When they were safely on the balcony, the transport – as if bidding them farewell – waved its ramp upward, then zoomed off through the maze of neighboring dorms.\n\nVincent turned to face the balcony's three doors. \"I guess two of these are ours.\"\n\nJessica nodded. The shaking had started to wear off.\n\nAs a test, Vincent stepped forward and pressed his eye up against the scanner of the door on the right. The lock clicked free. \"This one must be mine. Try the middle one.\"\n\nJessica stepped forward. She had to brace herself against the door to stay steady for the scanner. A second later, the door slid open.\n\n\"Good,\" said Vincent. \"You should rest. How do you feel?\"\n\nJessica made no answer as she stepped forward. She paused in the frame just long enough to glance back at him, and then she was inside. Vincent stared at her closed door for a moment before entering through his own.\n\nHis dormitory was tiny, low-ceilinged and incredibly compact, with only two rooms: one just large enough to fit a twin-sized bed, and another for a toilet and shower. He suddenly found it difficult to breath. The room's size, as well as its stifling white, had made his Lenses feel tighter. Slipping off his shoes, he crossed the room – which amounted only to a few steps – and lay down on the bed.\n\nFor the most part the bleeding had stopped, but the throbbing pain had stayed with him. He knew sleep would be impossible. It wasn't so much the pain that kept him awake; it was the memory of the leaden Lenses being slipped over his eyes, of the hair-width wires extending back into his skull, of the raw, relentless intrusion.\n\nExhaling, Vincent rolled onto his side. He thought about getting up, going for a walk around the city to explore, but he knew that was out of the question. They were being watched now, and anything they did would be subject to review. They would look for John eventually, but to do that, they needed to remain undetected.\n\nVincent shifted his focus to his Lenses. If there was one thing in the city that everyone seemed to take for granted, that seemed sure not to raise suspicion, it was entering a sim.\n\nHe navigated to his stored simulations as the woman in the tight dress had instructed them, and was surprised to find an entire library. Well over a thousand thumbnail images scrolled across his vision. Some showed luxurious views of the city, others transports flying at high speeds, others unclothed human flesh. And at the bottom of the collection, just as the woman had promised, was an additional simulation quite unlike the rest. It had no thumbnail image, simply a label: _Newsim_. Something about it made Vincent hesitate. He debated again whether he shouldn't get up and walk around. Derek had said school was only halfway through; maybe he could try and find their building. Or maybe he could use the time to wander through the working sector and find the Newsight headquarters.\n\nNeither of these options moved beyond thought. Vincent stayed where he was. His eyes continued to hover over the black square labeled _Newsim_. It was still a Newsight product, but it seemed an exception to the Newsight Vincent had come to know. And besides, he thought, Derek had said it would look bad if they didn't enter the simulations. The things had been a gift, after all.\n\nClosing his eyes, Vincent focused on the black square, and his vision went dark.\n\n\"Welcome to Newsim.\"\n\nA female voice, soft and sweet – like the woman's from activation – rang out in his head, though it could very well have been coming from somewhere in the room – it sounded so real.\n\n\"Your simulation will begin shortly. We hope you enjoy.\"\n\nVincent's vision remained black a few seconds longer, then returned all at once. He was no longer in the dormitory. The white walls and low ceilings had been replaced by a more spacious room, cream-colored all the way around and sloped to a point at the top, and with a soft gray floor made of knit, hair-like threads. He was sitting at a table with three other people. The first two he recognized instantly: his parents, though both looked different. Their Seclusion-standard white jumpsuits with high collars had been replaced. Vincent's father wore a shirt with buttons down the front, and his mother wore a light, flowing yellow dress. The third person at the table was a man with wrinkles sewn deep into his face, and with hair as white as the room Vincent had just left.\n\n\"That was delicious,\" said Vincent's father. \"Thank you, Sarah.\"\n\nSarah – Vincent still hadn't gotten used to the name – nodded in thanks, glowing.\n\n\"Just like your mother used to make it,\" said the old man. \"Marvelous.\"\n\nSarah glowed brighter still. \"I'm glad you liked it,\" she said, then turned to Vincent. \"What did you think?\"\n\nVincent looked up at her, then at his father and the old man. When he turned his head, there was no curtain of black chased away by his gaze, no trace of the rendering pixels. This was real. He felt himself in the chair. He tasted the air from the room. He felt full from whatever meal they had just eaten.\n\n\"It was really good,\" he said automatically. \"Thank you.\"\n\nSarah's smile grew even broader; she seemed more thrilled than ever. \"I can't believe one of my experiments finally worked!\"\n\n\"Neither can we,\" said Vincent's father, grinning.\n\nSarah rolled her eyes and flung her napkin at him. \"Either way, you still have dishes.\"\n\nVincent's father groaned through a smile. \"You're a slave driver, woman,\" he said, standing.\n\n\"Gets it from her mother,\" said the old man. \"I've been there, Tom.\"\n\nSarah stood as well. \"I think I'll sit on the back porch while you're slaving away.\"\n\nTom shook his head. \"You better join her,\" he said to Vincent. \"She'll put you to work if you don't.\"\n\nThe white-haired man stood as well. \"I'm too old for that, but not for sitting with my favorite daughter.\"\n\nSarah smiled at him, then turned to Vincent. \"Care to join us? Are you done with your homework?\"\n\n\"I finished it at school.\" The answer seemed to have been preloaded in Vincent's mind. The words tasted foreign to him as they left his lips, but true.\n\n\"Well come on Vince, don't keep an old man waiting,\" said the white-haired man in mock impatience.\n\nConfused, but not really caring, Vincent stood from his seat. The old man draped an arm over his shoulders as they started for the sliding glass door with Sarah.\n\n\"Tom,\" said the old man, \"why don't you entertain us while we're out here?\"\n\n\"I can probably think of something.\"\n\n\"Oh my,\" said Sarah. She leaned in and lowered her voice. \"Maybe we'll close the door behind us.\"\n\n\"I heard that,\" said Tom. He was at the sink now, his hands wet with soap.\n\nSarah only grinned in response. She led them out the sliding glass door into a wave of warm, natural-smelling air. They were standing next to a small round table, on a wooden platform of boards pushed together at the edges and lifted from the rest of the lawn.\n\n\"Tom, we need to mow tomorrow,\" Sarah called back into the house. She was looking at the overgrown grass that covered the fenced-in area they had just walked into.\n\n\"If by _we_ you mean _Vincent_ ,\" returned Tom.\n\nSarah turned to Vincent. \"Can you take care of it?\"\n\nVincent looked at his mother, then at the lawn, the answer once again spilling from his lips. \"Sure.\"\n\nSarah squeezed his arm, still smiling, and pulled two chairs out from the table next to them. The old man and Vincent sat as Sarah took her seat by the table. From the kitchen, a hummed, light-hearted melody floated out to them, one Vincent knew for certain he had heard before. When the intro was finished, Tom began to sing.\n\n\"Here it comes,\" said Sarah. \"You just had to ask didn't you, Dad?\"\n\nThe old man leaned back and closed his eyes. \"Let him go. The man has to entertain himself somehow.\"\n\nSarah laughed and shook her head. She leaned back in her chair like her father had, but she kept her eyes open. She stared straight forward through the foliage of trees outside their fence, at the pink-shaded sky beyond.\n\nVincent mimicked her pose. He felt a warmth in him that had nothing to do with the heat of the air. It came from his mother and father and grandfather, from the short brown house with the angled roof, from the sounds of a song sung just out of tune.\n\n* * * * * *\n\nThe sharp pulse of a morning alarm pulled Vincent from his daze. When his eyes flashed open, he was back in the dormitory. He had fallen asleep. From the feeling of fatigue that lined his eyelids, however, he had fallen asleep only within the simulation. Outside of it, with Newsim on the same clock as the real world, his mind must have been turning as quickly as ever.\n\nVincent jumped a little when he saw movement near the bottom edge of his vision. He settled when he saw the message from Derek.\n\nI have arranged for a transport to take you to your new school. We tried to place you in your old classroom, but the spots had been filled by the Washing migration. I'm sure you'll fit in with your new classmates just fine... The transport comes at 7:50. It will meet you on the balcony.\n\nVincent checked the time, then groaned and leaned back against his pillow. Going to school was the last thing they needed to be doing. That was the one place John would definitely _not_ be.\n\nForcing himself up, Vincent stood and crossed over to the narrow door next to the restroom. When it slid open, he was greeted by a rack of the usual school uniforms, though these, instead of bleach white, were an ashen gray.\n\nAt 7:48, Vincent stepped out of his room and onto the balcony. Jessica was already there waiting for him, staring out at the expanse of white school domes deeper in the city.\n\n\"Good morning,\" said Vincent.\n\n\"Good morning.\" Jessica showed no trace of the incident from the day prior. She was steady, and her eyes were clear of blood. They were puffy, though, and the skin under them was tinted purple.\n\n\"Did you try the simulations?\" asked Vincent, already knowing the answer.\n\n\"I don't think I slept.\" Jessica stared out over the dormitory buildings with a look of consternation. \"This isn't what we need to be doing.\"\n\n\"I know. But we'll have time this weekend.\"\n\nJessica nodded but said nothing back. Vincent knew it wasn't much of a comfort. They would need more than a weekend to find a particular _building_ in Hux, let alone a particular person.\n\n\"Look,\" said Jessica, pointing upward. \"That's probably ours.\"\n\nThe round pod of a transport soared toward them, slowing down as it prepared to deploy its ramp.\n\nA lanky, black-haired girl stepped through the door on the far left of the balcony. \"Is this ours?\" she asked.\n\n\"It's _ours_ ,\" said Jessica, emphasizing the second word. \"You might have to—\"\n\n\"Perfect.\" The girl pushed past them and up the ramp just as it made contact with the balcony. Jessica turned to Vincent. He merely shrugged.\n\n\"I got a message saying you were moving in,\" said the girl when they followed her inside. \"You're the transfers?\"\n\nVincent and Jessica lowered themselves into the bucket seats. Behind them, the ramp folded upward and the transport began to rise.\n\n\"I guess so,\" said Jessica. \"Does that mean you can just jump in our transport?\"\n\n\"I don't see why not,\" said the girl. \"We're going to the same place. You're in your final year, aren't you?\"\n\nThey nodded, and the girl shrugged, as if that settled things. \"I'm Annie. We'll be in the same class.\"\n\nShe reached out her hand to Vincent first.\n\n\"I'm Vin—\"\n\n\"Lena,\" Jessica broke in, taking Annie's hand mid-shake. \"And this is Ben.\"\n\n\"Okay...\" said Annie, laughing a little. \"Nice to meet you.\"\n\nFeeling foolish, Vincent avoided Jessica's eyes. He changed the subject. \"So how's school? Will we be behind?\"\n\nAnnie shook her head. \"Not really. We mostly learn about the Order. The trades, too, but you'll know all about those.\"\n\nVincent and Jessica exchanged a look.\n\n\"I'm just excited for the weekend,\" continued Annie. \"Newsim is free.\"\n\n\"Really?\" said Vincent. \"I thought you had to pay for it.\"\n\n\"You do during the week,\" said Annie. \"A lot. But on the weekends, Newsight sponsors a discount at the school. If you stay here, you can have all the Newsim you want.\"\n\n\"If you stay where?\" asked Jessica. \"The dorms?\"\n\nAnnie nodded. \"Almost the whole school stays. We're here seven days a week.\"\n\n\"What about your family? When do you see them?\"\n\nAnnie shrugged, indifferent. \"I usually don't. Every few months maybe. They spend most of their weekends in the recreation ring, anyway. The money they don't spend there they give to me as sim allowance for the week.\" A misty, distant look crossed her eyes. \"But nothing compares to Newsim during the weekend.\"\n\nThe transport pulled to a stop over the side of the street, but Annie didn't seem to notice. Her eyes were on Vincent.\n\n\"It's especially fun when you share. Are you busy tomorrow?\"\n\nJessica pressed the door button a bit harder than necessary. \"Yes, he is,\" she snapped. \"We both are.\"\n\nThe door slid open and Jessica pulled herself out at a crouch. Annie flashed Vincent another smile – one he weakly returned – then stepped out of the pod as well.\n\nWhen they were all outside, Jessica pointed to a building up ahead. \"Is that it?\"\n\nAcross the street was a sprawling, boxy building some thirty stories high, the flat face of which showed only a handful of windows. It had a dreary, nondescript entrance with an inscription over the archway, the same phrase Vincent had read on the inside of the halo: THERE IS NO LOVE WITHOUT HATRED.\n\n\"That's the Birthschool,\" said Annie. \"Our school is this way.\" She started off in the opposite direction without checking to see if they were behind her.\n\n\"Is that like Incubation?\" asked Vincent, catching up. \"Like from the Seclusions?\"\n\n\"I guess so,\" said Annie. \"It's just like our school, only for newborns. Now hurry up. It's almost eight.\"\n\n* * * * * *\n\nThe three of them walked into the classroom just as their Lenses began blinking the time. Most of the other students were already at their desks.\n\n\"Be seated, children.\"\n\nThe voice had come from the narrow-eyed man at the front of the class.\n\n\"That's Mr. Watts,\" whispered Annie, sitting down. \"He's the strictest teacher I've had.\"\n\nVincent wasn't surprised; the man's posture was rigidly straight, as if someone had tied a pole to his back.\n\nAnnie tugged at Vincent's sleeve and flicked her head toward the seat directly behind her. Vincent sat down, and Jessica followed suit in an open seat to their right.\n\n\"We will begin with the morning sim.\" Mr. Watts scanned the classroom with bored-looking eyes. \"Please accept my invitation.\"\n\nA string of text appeared on the bottom of Vincent's Lenses. Straightening in his seat out of habit, he glanced down and engaged the sim.\n\nHe was standing next to a window as large as a wall, staring down at a maze of plain, rectangular skyscrapers.\n\nA streak of white split the sky. The window shattered and he went soaring back, knocking into something behind him, pushed there by the force of the explosion. He felt the heat in the air, on his chest...\n\nThe simulation changed. He was running on a street with cracked pavement and alongside men and women he didn't recognize. Above them loomed the same skyscrapers he had seen from the window, most of them aflame. The air around them was polluted with smoke. There were sirens coming from all directions, but the sirens couldn't quite mask the constant rumble coming from above.\n\nVincent looked up as he ran and saw the jets. They zoomed by far too close overhead, some dropping cylindrical loads as they flew, others launching them from their front ends, their rockets trained on every building they could reach. Vincent started to cough as the tidal wave of smoke behind him licked at his heels. He increased his pace, but only toward a similar wave of smoke just ahead. The rumbling was louder now. There was a whistle, an explosion...\n\nThe simulation changed again. For several seconds, Vincent watched from a bird's-eye view as dozens of jets dropped their loads over the city he had just been inside. He watched as a final, flashing white blaze split the clouds above...\n\nThe simulation changed once more. Vincent was on the street again, but he was standing now, and the sirens and jet engines had fallen silent. The smoke had cleared, and the street was still – what was left of it. Chunks of pavement were missing in giant craters, and the cars that had once lined its surface were overturned, their windows shattered, their hoods and side doors bent inward. Through it all, the stench of rotting meat hung in the air like a disease. It wafted up into Vincent's nose from the pavement, where, beside the overturned cars and jagged craters, the people he had been running alongside now lay. They lined the curbs twisted at odd angles, sometimes piled atop one another, other times completely alone, abandoned in the ash and debris and blood like hunted game too small to collect.\n\nSomewhere, a man began to speak.\n\n\"The Order is the enemy of the state, the enemy of freedom. Apart, we cannot survive. Together, we cannot fall.\"\n\nThe street disappeared, and the simulation ended. They were back in the classroom. The posture of the students around Vincent was no longer so straight, the eyes of them no longer so empty. A girl to Vincent's left was crying; a boy to his right was shaking all over; Annie seemed prepared to punch someone.\n\n\"Let us not forget who is to blame.\" Mr. Watts's hands trembled as he spoke – he no longer looked so bored. \"Who are we fighting?\"\n\nIn unison, as a monotone, obedient choir, the class answered, \"The Order.\"\n\nVincent looked around him. Everyone but he and Jessica had joined in.\n\nMr. Watts nodded in approval. \"Very good. Now let us begin our—\"\n\nVincent's vision went black. By the gasps and whimpers around the room, he knew the same had happened to everyone else. For a fraction of a second, he thought their Lenses had gone dark, just as they had in the Seclusion, but the darkness didn't last. A room appeared before them, small and cramped, and with a chair in its center lit only by a single lamp. They were in another simulation.\n\n\"Stay calm, children,\" Mr. Watts called out to them. \"The Order must have staged a second hack. It's just another message from their leader.\"\n\nThis didn't quiet the whimpering.\n\nVincent tried to turn to Jessica, but instead of seeing her, he saw only the room with the lamp, viewed as if from a camera set on a tripod.\n\nA man of slender figure and tattered garb sat down in the chair. Only the bottom half of his face was in frame, but the top portion, if Brian's and Kendra's claims about the Order's leader were correct, would have two empty sockets for eyes.\n\nVincent scooted forward in his seat. The man named George Goodwin was about to speak.\nChapter 13 – Maintenance\n\n\"Citizens of the standard cities.\"\n\nThe man left his lips parted at each pause. His words were as hollow as his malnourished cheeks.\n\n\"Yesterday we launched an attack on Washing. Those who did not heed our warning were destroyed.\"\n\nThe voice was inhuman in some way, forced and strange, but in fleeting moments it carried a familiar quality, as well, like a dream dancing in and out of memory.\n\n\"Our attacks will continue,\" the man said. \"And they will grow in number. We have penetrated Newsight's Identification Division. We can be anyone. We can be anywhere. Standard cities are no longer safe. The halos will not protect you.\" He paused, lips quivering mid-word. \"The Order will triumph.\"\n\nThe feed went dark, and the classroom returned. The boy to Vincent's right was shaking even more violently. Annie's knuckles were clenched and white.\n\n\"The halos _will_ protect the city,\" said Mr. Watts, \"whatever the Order claims. They simply wish to frighten us.\"\n\nVincent could tell the man was far from confident. The rest of the class – most of them completely quiet, the others on the verge of tears – seemed to sense the same thing.\n\n\"We will be safe here, children. The Identification Division will soon find the source of the hack.\"\n\nJessica frowned at these last words. She squinted at her desk with her brow furrowed, her head held at a pensive tilt. Vincent watched her, only half hearing the droning words of Mr. Watts.\n\n\"Now for trade-training. If you would all please rise.\"\n\nEven in their shaken state, the class rose together with the simultaneity of a single, mechanical unit. Vincent and Jessica followed suit, Jessica rising a bit slower, her gaze still on her desk.\n\n\"To your usual locations,\" said Mr. Watts, and the classroom unit moved once again, this time starting for the hall. Vincent made as if to follow but hesitated when Jessica didn't move. Out of his periphery, he saw Mr. Watts watching them.\n\n\"Lena,\" he whispered. \"Let's go.\"\n\nHe tugged at her sleeve as Mr. Watts started over. She stayed where she was, apparently still deep in thought, oblivious to everything else.\n\n\"Lena we need to—\"\n\n\"Carlsons?\" Mr. Watts came to a stop next to them. Jessica looked up, seeming only just now to remember she was in public, and glanced at the students filing into the hall.\n\n\"I received notice of your transfer yesterday evening,\" said Mr. Watts. \"You'll already know your trades, of course, but in this building the locations are different. For Security,\" he looked at Jessica, \"the modules are straight down the hall, third door on the left. For Newsight Management,\" he looked at Vincent, \"first door on the right.\"\n\n\"Newsight Management?\" repeated Vincent.\n\n\"Indeed.\" Mr. Watts gave a slight smirk, then flicked his head toward the hallway. \"Now get going. Your modules will be starting soon.\"\n\nJessica nodded, still distracted, and started for the exit. Mr. Watts returned to his desk. For a moment Vincent could only watch in confusion, feeling certain he must have missed something, then the time began to blink across his Lenses, and he took off after Jessica.\n\n\"What's wrong?\" he asked when they were in the hall.\n\n\"Nothing.\"\n\nJessica started for her module room, but Vincent caught her by the wrist.\n\n\"Are you sure?\"\n\nShe turned around to face him, eyes still glassed with the same concerted look as before. She seemed to be trying to channel him something, something she couldn't say aloud. \"I'm sure,\" she said, and she pulled away, starting once again for her room down the hall. Vincent stared after her, her expression playing over in his mind, as if memorizing it would reveal its meaning. Then his Lenses began to blink yet again, and he could see nothing but the white of the time.\n\n* * * * * *\n\nThe session lasted the rest of the school day, breaking only for lunch. The Management modules amounted to nothing more than interactive simulations, ones Vincent could have distilled into a single principle: Newsight managers never share sensitive (or nonsensitive) information with customers, employees, or family, and always do what their superiors command. He felt better equipped now to keep large quantities of secrets than ever before.\n\nWhen he emerged from his room into a crowd of his classmates, Jessica stood waiting for him, now looking in a much better mood. \"How were your modules?\" she asked.\n\n\"Good,\" lied Vincent. \"How were yours?\"\n\n\"Good. I learned about the different divisions of Security.\" She smiled, as if this were profoundly interesting, then started down the hall with the crowd. Vincent fell in stride beside her.\n\n\"So you're okay from earlier, I guess.\"\n\n\"I was always okay.\"\n\n\"Really?\"\n\nShe didn't answer him, only scanned the hall straight ahead.\n\n\"Well, should we try and get a transport?\" asked Vincent.\n\n\"Not yet. We need to – Mr. Watts!\"\n\nThe teacher was just a few doors off, locking up the classroom in a rush. He looked up at the sound of Jessica's voice. \"Miss. Carlson? I would love to chat but I'm—\"\n\n\"It will only take a second. Ben and I have a quick question.\"\n\nHe paused, glancing down the hall before turning back with a sigh. \"What about?\"\n\n\"We were wondering if we could take a field trip to the Newsight headquarters.\"\n\nVincent felt his pulse miss a beat. He turned to Jessica, trying to catch her eye, but she avoided his gaze.\n\n\"The headquarters?\" said Mr. Watts, raising a brow.\n\n\"Yes, sir,\" said Jessica. \"We were hoping since our trades are so related to the company that we could take a tour of it.\"\n\n\"Well you'll get to do just that, but you'll have to wait. The end-of-term excursions are still several months away.\"\n\n\"But isn't there something you can—\"\n\n\"No, I'm sorry. That's well beyond my influence. Now...\" he finished locking the classroom door and readjusted his coat, \"... you'll have to excuse me.\"\n\nJessica opened her mouth to protest yet again, but Mr. Watts had already turned. She watched him go for a beat, deflated, then started down the hall in the opposite direction, the bounce suddenly absent from her step.\n\n\"Hey,\" hissed Vincent. \"A field trip?\"\n\nShe glanced back at him but didn't stop. \"Yes, now come on.\" She continued down the hall toward one of the side exits. Annoyed, Vincent started after her, and by the time they were outside, he had caught up.\n\n\"Why did you just—\"\n\n\"Do you know how to call a transport?\"\n\n\"No. Now tell me—\"\n\n\"That one might be ours.\" Jessica pointed to a pod hovering several yards away, then moved closer to it, eyes sliding out of focus. \"It says Ben and Lena Carlson. Maybe Derek called it.\" She jumped in without waiting. More exasperated than ever, Vincent followed close behind and sat in the seat next to her, unsurprised to find her already facing the window, avoiding his gaze. He opened his mouth to prompt her once more but closed it when he saw her reflection. She was watching him, no longer detached or lost in thought but steady, staring at him in the glass with the same, desperate expression she'd worn that morning. Then she was normal again, and her stare was on the street. Vincent frowned but didn't break the silence. As the pod gained altitude in its typical, stomach-churning fashion, he turned to his own window. He was watching the last few students emerge from the front entrance when he felt Jessica's finger tracing along his spine. He turned around. Jessica was facing the window, but her left hand was closer to him than usual.\n\n\"What is it?\" he asked.\n\nJessica turned to him, trying and failing to look innocent. \"What's what?\"\n\nVincent cocked his head, brow furrowed in confusion. She nodded toward the window. \"Keep looking.\"\n\nFrowning deeper still, Vincent turned back to the glass. They continued to rise. Below them, he could see the behemoth, block-shaped building Annie had called the Birthschool.\n\nThe tracing started again, and Vincent jumped. He didn't turn around this time though. He kept his eyes fixed out the window, felt her finger run down the center of his spine, slow and soft. The hair on his arms rose with each stroke: a half curl facing upward, a straight line under his shoulder blades, a pause, a different pattern altogether.\n\nVincent narrowed his eyes, squinting in concentration as he looked out the window – Jessica was drawing letters.\n\nThey rode like that in silence for over a minute before Jessica lifted her finger from Vincent's back. Vincent had lost track of some of the symbols, but he could piece the words together well enough:\n\nJohn\n\nPrints\n\nNewsight\n\n\"What do you think of the hack?\" asked Jessica.\n\nVincent could hear the prompting in her voice – she was trying to tell him something. \"I don't know,\" he said. \"Scary, I guess.\"\n\n\"Newsight has never been hacked before. How do you think the Order did it?\"\n\nVincent's frown endured a moment longer, then began to fade.\n\nJohn. Prints. Newsight.\n\nThose three words tugged him toward an answer. The assumed method of the hack was a traditional assault on Newsight's firewalls, but the alternative, the one Jessica seemed to be implying, was much different. Penetrating Newsight may have been impossible for a virus of the Order, but what about for an agent of it? What better way to resist than to physically infiltrate the heart of the enemy? They would have direct access to authentic ID prints. They could send packages to people like Kendra, people aggregating what little resistance that remained, and Kendra could send in recruits with false identities. Newsight _had_ been hacked, but the virus hadn't been a line of code – it had been John.\n\nVincent felt the realization wash over him in an instant. Jessica's field trip idea had been brilliant. The Newsight headquarters was the perfect place to begin their search.\n\nJessica grinned, seeming to sense his understanding. \"I guess only the Order knows.\" With a theatrical sigh, she turned back to the window. Vincent did the same. He looked out over the dormitories and school domes and city beyond, but the place no longer seemed so large. For the first time in days, even if they had no way of getting there, they knew exactly where they needed to go.\n\n\"Who's that?\" asked Jessica.\n\nVincent turned from his window and followed her gaze. They were almost to their balcony where another pod had already landed. As they touched down next to it, Derek leaned out the side to wave in greeting.\n\n\"Hello there!\" he called out to them when their door slid open.\n\n\"Uh... hi, Derek,\" said Vincent.\n\n\"How are you, Ben?\" Derek climbed onto the balcony and brushed himself off. \"Lena?\"\n\n\"Hi,\" said Jessica. She glanced at Vincent before turning back to the other pod. \"Is something wrong?\"\n\n\"No, no, nothing at all,\" said Derek. \"Come on out.\"\n\nThey exited their pod onto the balcony, and as they did, Vincent noticed a bright-faced woman in a white dress at Derek's side. He was sure he had never seen her before, but her young features and tight, curve-hugging dress were oddly familiar. Derek motioned her forward.\n\n\"This is Cara. She'll be performing your maintenance.\"\n\n\"Maintenance?\" said Jessica.\n\n\"For your Lenses,\" said Derek. \"The school does check-ups every Wednesday morning, so yesterday should have been your first one. We wouldn't want you falling behind already, would we?\"\n\nThe woman in the dress didn't wait for their answer. \"Which one of you would like to go first?\"\n\nVincent hesitated for a moment, then stepped forward. Jessica, after all, had gone first last time.\n\n\"Good. Now let's get out of this wind.\" The woman motioned Vincent to the door. He scanned them in, and Jessica followed close behind. \"Maintenance is especially important given the recent hack.\"\n\n\"The hack!\" exclaimed Derek. He had stepped in after them, forcing his oversized frame through the small door. \"That's what I was going to ask you about on the way here, Cara. Surely Newsight is going to do something about it. It's terribly embarrassing.\"\n\nThe woman smiled sweetly. \"We've received similar feedback. It will be taken care of.\" She turned to Vincent and sat a small white case on the foot of the bed. \"Sit, please.\"\n\nVincent did as he was told. He watched the woman unzip the case and dig inside. She emerged with a silver, needle-tipped device that looked suspiciously like the gun they had seen in the Hole.\n\n\"Open wide,\" said the woman. She held her finger around the trigger of the device as she raised it up. Taking a deep breath, and bracing himself for the pain, Vincent opened his eyes as wide as they would go. The woman leaned closer to him – he could smell her overpowering, flowery perfume. She lowered the device's tip onto the surface of his right eye. It began to water. His reflexes told him to blink—\n\nShe pulled the trigger. With a flourish, she shifted to the left eye, then pulled the trigger again.\n\n\"Good as new.\" She turned to Jessica. \"Next?\"\n\nFrowning, Vincent stood up. The process hadn't hurt in the slightest. The worst of it had been no more than a tickle.\n\nJessica turned to him before sitting down. He nodded reassuringly. Moments later, the woman had pulled the trigger twice more.\n\n\"And we're done,\" she said, placing the device back in the case. \"Quick as that.\"\n\nDerek clapped his hands together. The noise sounded like an explosion in Vincent's box-sized dormitory. \"Perfect. Allow me to call you a transport, Cara.\"\n\nThe woman shot Vincent and Jessica one last winning smile, then turned to Derek. He helped her, quite unnecessarily, through the doorway and out onto the balcony. When they were out of earshot, Jessica breathed a sigh of relief.\n\n\"I didn't feel anything,\" she said. \"Did you?\"\n\n\"Nothing,\" said Vincent. He glanced out the door. A transport was already lowering onto the balcony. \"At least it wasn't like the activation.\"\n\nJessica shuddered at the thought. \"I don't think I could do that again.\"\n\nVincent started to say something in agreement then stopped – Derek had reentered the room.\n\n\"Well that wasn't so bad, was it?\"\n\nVincent and Jessica offered no response. Derek sighed, smile fading, and continued in a softer tone. \"I know your hopes for this couldn't have been high after last time. It was wrong of me not to warn you about the activation process, and I don't intend to make that mistake again.\" His eyes twitched downward, flitting in toward his nose with their focus drawn close. \"I came with Cara today because I wanted to emphasize the importance of maintenance in—\"\n\nVincent's Lenses went black, and the glass grew cold and rigid, as if frozen to his eyes. But the darkness lasted only a blink. It faded into the light of the room so quickly that, had the chill of the Lenses not remained, Vincent may have thought himself hallucinating.\n\nDerek let out a heavy breath and sank down onto the bed next to Jessica. \"We only have a few minutes. I came to warn you.\"\n\nJessica cast him a look of confusion, then focused on her Lenses at a squint. \"What just happened? What did you do?\"\n\n\"Newsight has been monitoring you closer than normal. And you've been flagged.\"\n\n\"Flagged?\" said Vincent. \"What does that mean? And what went wrong with our Lenses? They just—\"\n\n\"Shut off,\" said Derek. \"My doing. This conversation isn't one for the record.\"\n\n\"But how could they have shut off? How is that possible?\"\n\n\"Well they're not actually off, just unmonitored. Liaisons are allowed to divert surveillance resources from small regions of the network. Temporarily, at least. It's usually reserved for my meetings with the Guard, but sometimes I use it just because. Just to stay sane.\"\n\nVincent frowned, skeptical. Derek gave him a wry grin.\n\n\"You thought I was a Newsight fan?\" He glanced from Vincent to Jessica, his grin growing broad. \"Then I guess my acting is getting better.\"\n\n\"So...\" Jessica trailed off, her tone as unsure as her eyes. \"So you're resisting them.\"\n\n\"Heavens no. I'm just trying to survive.\"\n\nJessica deflated, sagging at the shoulders.\n\n\"Something _you_ apparently care nothing about. Neither of you have been guarding your emotions. It's why you've been flagged.\"\n\n\"What do you mean flagged?\" asked Vincent.\n\n\"I mean you're on constant watch. Not by software, by actual employees. Anything suspicious is taken very seriously.\"\n\n\"Then what about this? Is this not suspicious?\"\n\nDerek shrugged. \"It's worth the risk. Knowing you're flagged will force you to keep yourselves under control. And as long as we're acting normally when we go back on the grid, they won't bat an eye.\"\n\n\"You're sure about that?\" said Jessica.\n\n\"I've worked with them for years. I know them.\"\n\n\"You know actual employees.\"\n\n\"Of course.\"\n\n\"Any Identification workers?\"\n\nDerek paused, brow furrowed. \"I don't think so. Why do you ask?\"\n\nJessica ignored the question with a frown on her lips. Vincent cut in before Derek could press further.\n\n\"You really think he's there?\"\n\n\"It's just a hunch,\" she said. \"I thought of it after the Order hack, when Mr. Watts was talking about the Identification Division. I just didn't know if it was part of Newsight or the Guard until after my modules.\"\n\nDerek leaned forward, as if to remind them he was still there. \"Whatever you're talking about needs to stop. We'll be back under surveillance soon.\"\n\n\"You can help us,\" said Jessica, turning to him. \"We're looking for someone in the Newsight headquarters. One of your friends could let us in.\"\n\n\"No chance,\" said Derek. The Lenses started to flicker. \"I'm already risking enough just by talking to you.\"\n\n\"But all you have to do is ask. It could sound like a tour.\"\n\n\"Please,\" joined Vincent. The Lenses flickered again, light shining around their edges. \"You can get us inside.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry. You'll have to find another way.\"\n\n\"But we just need to talk to someone.\"\n\n\"Look I wish I could help.\"\n\n\"You don't have to risk anything.\"\n\n\"Ben, I told you—\"\n\n\"It's important just—\"\n\nThere was a flash of white, and the chill on Vincent's Lenses gave way to the normal, sticky heat. Derek corrected his posture automatically.\n\n\"Which is why you really can't do without maintenance,\" he said. \"Now, I have to be going.\" He gave them a broad, artificial grin, then got to his feet. Jessica looked from him to Vincent, crestfallen. Vincent stared straight down, mind turning at a desperate pace, to John, to the headquarters, to the chill of the Lenses, to the unconfirmed conversation—\n\nVincent broke gaze with the floor and looked up. \"Derek?\" Derek turned around. \"We just wanted to say thank you.\"\n\nA hint of unease flashed across Derek's face. \"Of course. It's the least I could do.\"\n\n\"We know it must be a hassle,\" continued Vincent, \"setting up the tour of the headquarters for us, but we can't wait to see Newsight from the inside.\"\n\nDerek's unease seemed to shift to realization. He started to say something back—\n\n\"We really appreciate it,\" cut in Jessica, catching Vincent's eye. \"Tomorrow will be great. Would you mind sending us a message when you have it worked out?\"\n\nDerek looked between them, head tilted back, mouth agape. \"I...\" His eyes flicked across his Lenses, as if confirming they had actually come back on. \"I'll let you know.\" He glowered at them for a moment before adopting his usual, enthusiastic façade. \"Have a terrific evening.\"\n\nHe turned and left the room through the balcony without waiting for answer. When the door closed behind him, Jessica got to her feet, unable to keep the smile from her lips.\n\n\"I think I'm going to get some sleep.\"\n\n\"Good idea,\" said Vincent.\n\n\"Yours was better.\" She smiled and glanced at the door where Derek had just disappeared. Vincent followed her gaze, but he didn't smile back. He had a feeling the tour would come at a cost, even if they wouldn't be the ones to pay it.\n\nJessica avoided the balcony and started for the door to the hall. She had taken only a few steps when she paused and looked back. \"Actually, I'm not too tired yet. I think I'll have a sim.\"\n\nVincent nodded. He knew what she was thinking. If they had indeed been flagged by Newsight, the simulations would only help them blend in. \"I think I will too,\" he said.\n\nJessica grinned at him – perhaps relieved – then continued the short distance to the door.\n\nWhen she had gone Vincent lay back on his bed with his feet still dangling off the end. He let his eyes slide out of focus. It wouldn't have taken Jessica's suggestion about the simulations for him to enter one. Thoughts of the small brown house and grassy backyard had plagued his mind ever since the first sim. If it helped rid them of Newsight's flags, terrific, but that wasn't why he let his eyes lead him to the simulation library; he _wanted_ to go back. His Lenses seemed to sense it, too, because he didn't have to scroll to the bottom this time – the black square labeled _Newsim_ was already at the top. Only now, there was a second label there as well: _1,200_. Vincent sighed, letting his head sink an inch deeper into the bed. Derek hadn't given them any spending money, let alone luxury money. Still, on a whim, Vincent selected the sim anyway. To his surprise, it opened the same as it had before, this time accompanied by a few lines of text:\n\nCredit balance: unlimited\n\nCredit deduction: 1,200\n\nNew credit balance: unlimited\n\nVincent squinted at the words to make sure he hadn't misread them. He had no point of reference for what a credit was worth, but _unlimited_ needed no explanation.\n\nThe words cleared before he could ponder them further, and the familiar sweet voice spoke its welcome. Moments later he was sitting in the same house as last time, not in the hard-backed chairs around the dining table, but on the soft, sinking couch in the room over. His parents shared a love seat next to him, and his grandfather, leaned all the way back but talking with great animation, occupied a recliner off to the side.\n\n\"It would have been a catastrophe, Tom,\" he said, speaking to Vincent's father. \"To give any one company that much is suicide.\"\n\n\"I'm with you,\" said Tom. \"I should have realized it as soon as they brought up the regulations.\"\n\n\"Maybe, but you couldn't have known for sure. No one could have known without THE SIM. Which,\" he added in a grave tone, \"we could use a reminder of.\"\n\nVincent's mother looked aghast. \"Why could we? We can forget all about that now.\"\n\n\"The hell we can. The second we forget is when it happens again. I think they should show that thing in schools twice a week.\"\n\nTom laughed but made no contradiction. \"We don't have to if you'd rather not, Sarah, but it _has_ been a while.\"\n\nSarah pondered for a moment, then relented. \"Well all right. Do you have it, Vincent?\"\n\nVincent looked down at his left wrist but saw nothing there. He felt for his front pocket next, but there was only a column of buttons and a striped fold of fabric.\n\n\"Try your pants, sweetheart,\" said his mother.\n\nGrowing hot at the cheeks, he reached inside both pant pockets. In his left, he felt the soft plastic Lens case of THE SIM. He pulled it out.\n\n\"Throw it here,\" said Tom, standing. \"I'll get it started.\"\n\nHesitating as he looked down at the precious case in his hands, Vincent tossed it over. Tom caught it easily and bent down in front of a large, flat screen at the front of the room. But just as he began to open the case, the air in the room went stiff and cold. Everything was still, even the curtains on either side of the back door had frozen in their flutter. It stayed like that for a full second before things returned to normal.\n\n\"Let's watch a movie instead,\" said Tom. His voice was cheery and warm, but something about it seemed out of place. He looked back at them. \"How does that sound?\"\n\n\"Great idea,\" said Sarah.\n\nHe looked at Vincent next. \"I'll pick your favorite.\" Smiling and without waiting for an answer, he turned back to the screen. Unsettled, Vincent grew tense in his chair. But when the screen began to play and his parents relaxed to watch, he forgot about THE SIM. His parents and grandfather were smiling, and the air was warm again.\nChapter 14 – The Headquarters\n\nThe next day, when Vincent and Jessica climbed into their transport on the balcony, Annie was not with them. The handful of students on the neighboring balconies seemed to be running late as well. It was, however, the end of the week. Newsim was on the horizon.\n\nAt school they walked into a near-empty classroom. Still, as soon as they stepped inside, Vincent could sense the difference in mood. It wasn't just lethargy that had taken hold. There was a nervous, excited kind of energy as well. The eyes of the boys strayed more often toward the girls. And the girls didn't shy away, as they may have throughout the week, but instead sat a little straighter in their seats.\n\n\"Good morning, Ben.\"\n\nAnnie had just walked into the room, in a rush, and stood rather close to Vincent's desk.\n\n\"Good morning,\" said Vincent. Annie flashed him a smile before starting for the seat directly in front of him. She sat down with exaggerated slowness, then leaned all the way back. The scent of her hair should have been overpowering, but this morning, Vincent didn't mind it.\n\nBy the time the digits at the bottom of their Lenses had ticked to 8:00, the classroom was full. Mr. Watts hurried in right on time, looking disheveled.\n\n\"Good morning, children,\" he said. They started to call out back to him, but he held up a hand. His eyes were out of focus, already navigating his Lenses. \"We have an announcement before our Order sim. Please accept.\"\n\nAs he said it, a familiar string of text scrolled across the bottom rim of Vincent's Lenses. Glancing down at it, he engaged.\n\nThe room disappeared. The simulation was black but for a large _Newsight_ printed in white down the middle, and the rotating, eye-shaped emblem just below.\n\n\"This is a Newsight public announcement.\"\n\nThe narrator's words rang out in Vincent's head in the same, sweet-sounding voice that followed the selection of a Newsim.\n\nThe black background and plain text changed to an aerial view of a Seclusion. If Vincent wasn't mistaken, he knew that particular Seclusion all too well.\n\n\"The suspect in the Seclusion bombing has been apprehended,\" the voice continued. \"The man responsible tapped into the defense system and disabled the network, thus enabling the Order's attack to strike its target.\"\n\nThe feed changed once again. They were in the Center in front of the Capitol. There was a group of Senators standing on the front steps, all dressed in their usual, high-collared uniforms. Below them, still climbing upward, was a small squadron of white-clad members of the Guard. They appeared to be escorting someone: an average-height, unassuming man with a protruding stomach. Vincent couldn't see the man's face.\n\n\"We regret to inform you,\" continued the voice, \"that the suspect is one of our own.\"\n\nThe feed changed angles, and next to him, Vincent heard Jessica take in a sharp breath. They could see the face of the man being escorted: the wide nose, the dark, beady eyes – it was Simon.\n\n\"A Newsight developer has been confirmed as the hacker involved,\" said the narrator. \"He is now also thought to have played a role in the Identification hack. Today he will face what we expect to be a swift trial.\"\n\nThe feed zoomed out once again so the whole Center was visible from above. The dome of the school, Vincent noticed, had been repaired.\n\n\"For our loyal Newsight customers,\" continued the voice, \"there is nothing to worry about. For the inconvenience we may have caused, please accept our gift of a free Newsim, and enjoy your weekend.\"\n\nThe feed disappeared, replaced by the simulation home screen where a thumbnail labeled _Newsim_ had been deposited in the lower right-hand corner. That lingered for a few seconds, then the classroom returned. Vincent turned immediately to Jessica. Her lips were parted, and her gaze was fixed on the back of the boy in front of her.\n\n\"That's great news,\" said Mr. Watts, though his tone didn't reflect much excitement. \"Now we can begin our day with peace of mind. All of you please hurry to our usual sim.\"\n\nVincent stole another look at Jessica. Her mouth was still slightly agape, and her eyes hadn't shifted from the boy's back. Vincent had a feeling she was thinking of the \"swift\" trial the narrator had mentioned. He had a feeling, also, what the result of that trial would be.\n\n\"We won't begin until everyone has accepted.\"\n\nVincent turned to the front of the room. Mr. Watts was staring at them. Casting Jessica one last look, Vincent entered the sim.\n\n* * * * * *\n\nVincent exited his modules at the end of the day feeling restless. As if infected by the day's contagious mood, he had an odd urge to run and jump, and at the same time to lie down and do nothing at all. The modules, he felt quite certain, did not provide the outlet for these urges he was looking for.\n\nHe left his room and joined the crowd of his classmates in the hall. Annie was there waiting for him. \"Hi, Ben,\" she said.\n\nVincent looked past her for Jessica but saw only the crowd. \"Hi, Annie.\"\n\n\"Have you thought any more about my invitation?\" Her voice sounded different. It wasn't as high-pitched and rapid. It had grown just a touch deeper and warmer, and the pace of it had slowed, much like the way she had sat down in front of him that morning.\n\n\"What invitation?\" said Vincent.\n\n\"About the sims.\" She stood a few inches closer to him than normal. \"I asked if you wanted to share one this weekend.\"\n\n\"Share?\"\n\nShe nodded her head, slowly.\n\n\"Uh...\" he glanced once again down the hall, \"... when?\"\n\n\"Tomorrow,\" she said. \"Night.\"\n\nA hot, prickly sensation lit the skin of Vincent's face. The restless feeling that had been increasing its hold on him since the morning had been amplified.\n\n\"Ok.\" It didn't feel like his voice that answered, but he let it keep talking. \"We can share.\"\n\nAnnie smiled at him. \"Good. I'll message you.\" She smiled again, then brushed past him, grazing her shoulder against his arm as she went.\n\n\"Ben?\"\n\nVincent turned around, taken aback by the sudden deepness of Annie's voice.\n\n\"Have you finished your modules?\"\n\nVincent sagged at the shoulders. It wasn't Annie at all – it was Mr. Watts.\n\n\"Yes, sir,\" he said.\n\n\"Then I have news for you. You have been arranged a tour of Newsight.\"\n\n\"Of the headquarters?\" said Vincent.\n\n\"Indeed.\" Mr. Watts curled his upper lip. \"It appears you have found someone more useful than me. Where is your sister?\"\n\nVincent turned back around toward Jessica's modules. He scanned the dwindling crowd for a moment before spotting her. She was several doors away, talking to a boy from class.\n\n\"She just finished her modules as well,\" said Vincent, turning back to Mr. Watts. \"I'll bring her here.\"\n\n\"No need. Your transport is waiting out front.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" said Vincent. \"All right.\"\n\nMr. Watts nodded to him, expression still sour, then turned away. Vincent started in the direction opposite.\n\n\"... but you could _make_ time.\" The boy was still talking when Vincent reached them. \" _I_ can make time.\"\n\n\"Thank you,\" said Jessica. \"But I can't.\" There was an edge of disappointment to her voice. \"I'm sorry.\"\n\nThe boy looked ready to press her further, then he saw Vincent. Casting Jessica one final look, he took off down the hall.\n\n\"What was that about?\"\n\nJessica twisted around at the sound of Vincent's voice. \"Nothing,\" she said, rather quickly.\n\nVincent frowned, then turned to watch the other boy walk away from them. He was quite tall, and sturdily built.\n\n\"Were you just talking to Mr. Watts?\" asked Jessica, changing the subject.\n\n\"Yeah,\" said Vincent, facing her again. Her pupils were as wide as Annie's had been. \"We got the tour.\"\n\nJessica's expression changed entirely. \"Really? When do we go?\"\n\n\"Right now.\"\n\nJessica looked down the hall where Mr. Watts had just disappeared. \"I didn't think it would actually work.\"\n\n\"I didn't either,\" said Vincent. \"But the transport is outside.\"\n\nJessica nodded as the last few stragglers passed them by. With the hallway now empty, they left the building through the side.\n\nOn the street Vincent spotted a transport with its ramp already lowered. \"I guess that's for us.\"\n\nNeither of them hesitated this time. They crossed over to it and climbed in.\n\n\"What do you think the employees will be like?\" asked Jessica.\n\nVincent didn't need fingers drawing on his back to know she was talking about John. \"No clue. But I'm guessing they won't have name tags.\"\n\nJessica snorted. \"Probably not. There'll be something though. We just have to be ready.\"\n\nVincent said nothing in response. That John would give them some sort of signal was pure speculation. It seemed far more likely that he had no idea they were coming, or, more disturbing still, that he wasn't in the building at all.\n\nThe topic remained unbroached for the rest of the ride, and minutes later they reached the Newsight tower. At the structure's base was a convoy of three-wheeled officer transports. A group of gray-clad men climbed out of the foremost one and started through the main doors. Further down the street, a thin, spectacled man in all white was looking up at their pod. They came to a stop just in front of him, and the ramp lowered.\n\n\"Hello,\" said the man. \"You are Ben and Lena?\"\n\n\"Yes, sir,\" they said in unison.\n\n\"Out you come, then.\" He made a beckoning motion as they climbed down the ramp. \"We can't take too long. I'm doing Derek a big enough favor as it is.\"\n\nWhen they were fully out, he shook their hands. \"Roger,\" he said. \"Pleased to meet you.\" His tone seemed more rushed than pleased.\n\n\"Nice to meet you as well,\" said Jessica. \"We're excited.\"\n\nRoger grunted noncommittally and waved a shooing hand at the transport. He led the way toward the main entrance. \"I appreciate the enthusiasm, but I should warn you that things may not be up to par. This last week has been hectic dealing with the hack. Terribly embarrassing. That man who claims to be the leader of the Order is public enemy number one. My department head arrived just this morning to lead the investigation.\"\n\nVincent scanned the sides of the three-wheeled transports, thinking of the gray-clad men who had climbed out of them. He knew the answer to his question before it left his lips. \"What department are you in?\"\n\nRoger puffed up importantly. \"Privacy.\"\n\nVincent swallowed a bit harder than normal. Marcus, the man with the piercing eyes they had spied on in Brian's dome, was undoubtedly still Head of Privacy. If he saw them, they were as good as finished.\n\nVincent chanced a look at Jessica. She was staring at the three-wheeled transports, biting her bottom lip.\n\n\"But Marcus is a whole stratosphere above me,\" said Roger, \"so don't even think about asking for an introduction.\"\n\n\"Wouldn't dream of it,\" said Vincent.\n\nThey left the convoy of transports behind them as they approached the entrance. When the door slid open, they crossed into an open space as wide and round as the Seclusion school. Perfectly white, the room was bare but for a receptionist's desk off to the side and an enclosed, cylinder-shaped structure in the very center.\n\n\"This is the main lobby,\" said Roger. He nodded to the structure ahead. \"And that's the transport tower. We'll work our way up from there.\" He led them in that direction, pausing to mutter a quick hello to the receptionist. As they walked, the ceiling of the lobby curled back and up, and when it had disappeared altogether, Vincent could see straight above them. Vertical glass chutes surrounded the transport tower's perimeter, and outside the chutes, in the dozen or so yards to the encasing tower, was empty space.\n\nOnce in the room Roger pressed a button on the nearest chute, and a pod door slid open to receive them. \"There are 186 stories,\" he said, leading them into the pod, \"but we'll be concerned only with the top six.\"\n\n\"What about all the others?\" said Jessica.\n\n\"The first 180 stories are reserved for the Department of Research.\"\n\nVincent waited for him to say something else, but nothing came.\n\n\"So what's on the levels we _can_ see?\" asked Jessica.\n\nRoger held his eye to a scanner, and a second later they began to rise. \"The three other departments besides Research: Privacy, Product, and Strategy. Each occupies two floors.\"\n\n\"What about Identification?\" said Vincent.\n\n\"That's a division of Privacy. But we'll cover that when we get there. Our first stop is Product.\"\n\nVincent nodded. Their ascent continued for several seconds before starting to slow.\n\n\"Might want to grab onto something,\" said Roger.\n\nJust as he said it, the pod jerked outward into open space. It hovered over thin air, just like the transports outdoors, before soaring across to the main, encasing tower. When they came to a stop, the pod door slid open.\n\n\"Here we are,\" said Roger. They had arrived in a small room with a single door. When they stepped forward, the door parted down the middle. \"Welcome to the Product level.\"\n\nThe next room was an enormous maze of rounded cubicles. In each cubicle was a student-sized desk, and in each desk was an employee in the standard white uniform, back rigid and eyes blank. The crowd of them appeared to share in a single simulation.\n\nRoger led the way onto a path just inside and motioned to the room at large, which seemed curved as part of a larger ring. \"All Product employees fall under one of two divisions: Lenses or Alternative Products, and within these divisions they specialize in either growth: coming up with new features, or maintenance: making sure the existing features function properly.\"\n\nVincent tried his best to look interested, but the longer he surveyed the sightless men and women in the cubicles, the more difficult the act became.\n\n\"Maintenance assesses customer issues,\" continued Roger. \"And Growth determines features most favorable to the consumer. The actual construction of these features, of course, is left to the developers.\"\n\nJessica perked up at this. \"Where do _they_ work?\"\n\n\"Research,\" said Roger. By his tone, the topic was closed.\n\nVincent turned to the people in the cubicles. None of them had moved. \"So if these employees aren't developers, what are they doing?\"\n\n\"They could be in a meeting,\" said Roger. \"Or on break.\"\n\nVincent was preparing to press further when Roger started once again.\n\n\"So that's the Product level. Let's keep moving.\"\n\n\"Already?\" said Jessica. \"We've been here for two minutes.\"\n\n\"And you've seen the whole department. It's just like this all the way around – this level and the one above. Might as well move on.\" He took off ahead of them down the path. Helpless, they followed, Vincent still watching the clouded eyes of the men and women at the desks.\n\nThe three of them walked for almost a minute before they reached another transport room. Roger's eyes went out of focus as he scanned them in. \"So what did you think?\" There was an eager glint in his eye as he said it. The small army of immobile men and women, from his perspective, must have been quite impressive.\n\n\"Interesting,\" said Jessica.\n\n\"Cool,\" said Vincent. Roger beamed with pride. Vincent felt sure he could have learned more from the modules back at school.\n\nA moment later, an empty pod appeared in the opening next to them. Roger ushered them inside, and almost instantly, they moved out over the empty space between towers. Instead of crossing all the way to the central tower, though, they rose straight up, skipping a floor and re-entering at the one after.\n\n\"Now for my level,\" said Roger as they came to a stop. \"I bet you didn't know Newsight has an entire department dedicated to privacy.\"\n\nVincent and Jessica exchanged a look. Roger continued without seeming to notice, leading them into an anteroom similar to before.\n\n\"Most people have no idea, but as you'll see, privacy is an enormous part of what we do.\"\n\nHe motioned forward, and the room's door opened down a center seam. The space beyond took the same shape as the Product level, only here, there were no cubicles. The empty-eyed workers sat elbow to elbow and front to back in an endless grid, their shoulders rising and falling down the line like a wave, each breath out becoming the next breath in.\n\n\"Welcome to the Department of Privacy,\" said Roger. He took point through the door and onto the path, producing a white, coin-shaped microphone and holding it to his lips. \"Tour arriving.\"\n\nThe entire grid of workers sat just a fraction straighter in their seats. Roger slipped the mic back into his pocket, and they continued to walk.\n\n\"The Department of Privacy is responsible for auditing the other departments. Marcus does his work with absolute discipline, and Fatrem prizes him for it.\"\n\n\"Where does Fatrem work?\" asked Vincent. \"Research?\"\n\nRoger seemed not to hear the edge of sarcasm in Vincent's tone. \"Fatrem travels too frequently to work in any one location. When he is here, though, he is on one of the top two levels.\"\n\n\"For Strategy,\" said Jessica. Roger nodded, then turned from her in his typical, topic-closing way.\n\n\"Within the Department of Privacy,\" he said, \"there are two divisions: Monitoring and Identification. Thanks to the Monitoring Division, every Newsight employee is carefully watched. This is vital to—\"\n\n\"Watched,\" said Vincent. \"You mean by software?\"\n\n\"I mean by people. Through their Lenses.\" Roger tapped the corner of his eye. \"It's the same with citizens, though we obviously can't watch everyone at once. _That's_ where the software comes in. It flags individuals of interest, and those individuals become the responsibility of Identification.\"\n\nVincent looked at the glazed-over eyes of the men and women in the desks, knowing, with a suffocating kind of dread, at least two of those eyes were watching through his own. Jessica scanned the employees as well, but she didn't seem bothered. Her eyes were narrowed in concentration, unblinking and flitting from one face to the next.\n\n\"And both kinds of employees,\" she said, \"they work here?\"\n\n\"Well Identification deals with extremely sensitive matters,\" said Roger, \"ID prints as well as flagged citizens, so their offices are kept confidential.\"\n\nVincent deflated. He turned to Jessica, expecting to see a similar expression of disappointment, but she wasn't looking at him. Her eyes continued to scan the men and women in the desks.\n\n\"Look,\" said Roger, motioning ahead of them. \"That's a management meeting. If we wait, you might get to meet Marcus after all.\"\n\nAround the bend, the doors of a conference room had just been thrown open. Vincent slowed his pace on instinct. No one had exited, but the conversation inside seemed to be winding down.\n\n\"I think he's here,\" whispered Jessica.\n\n\"I know he is, we have to—\"\n\n\"I'm not talking about Marcus.\"\n\nRoger turned back to them midstride, eyes crossing to focus on his Lenses. \"Actually I just received a memo. It might be about him.\"\n\nVincent looked down the path at the conference room entrance, then back at Jessica. She had resumed her inspection of the employees, breathing a bit faster than normal, feet shifting anxiously on the carpet. Slowly, as he followed her gaze, he began to realize.\n\n\"You think _he's_ here?\"\n\n\"I think so. We have to try and—\"\n\n\"Nothing,\" said Roger, eyes uncrossing. \"Nothing from him, at least. But come on, we'll wait outside anyway.\" He started walking again, heading for the conference room. Jessica didn't follow.\n\n\"How do you know?\" asked Vincent.\n\n\"I saw someone stand. It must have been the signal.\"\n\nVincent scanned the masses of white-clad workers – no one stirred. \"Are you sure? Maybe—\"\n\n\"I'm positive. It has to be him.\"\n\n\"But Identification doesn't work here.\"\n\n\"I know that, I just have a feeling.\"\n\n\"Your feeling will get us thrown out.\"\n\n\"If we find him it won't matter. I'm going to talk to him.\"\n\n\"But if Marcus sees us—\"\n\n\"He won't see us. Just stall for me.\"\n\n\"No, Lena!\"\n\nVincent tried to stop her, but she veered off the path and out of his reach, dodging into the desks.\n\n\"Would you two quit whispering and...\" Roger trailed off when he turned around, at first showing only annoyance, then, when he saw Vincent alone, something closer to fear. Vincent cast around for an explanation.\n\n\"She's... she's looking for a restroom. I told her to—\"\n\n\"Stop,\" hissed Roger. He was looking beyond Vincent, eyes scanning in search, settling in the direction Jessica had just taken off. \"What is she doing?\"\n\nAlready across the room, Jessica pushed through the seated employees, gaze focused somewhere straight ahead.\n\nRoger shot a look over his shoulder – the conference room had begun to clear. Cursing under his breath, he shoved Vincent to the side and started into the desks. \"Lena! Lena get back here!\"\n\nJessica slowed her pace but didn't turn. She stopped next to a young employee with fogged-over eyes. She shook him by the shoulders.\n\nVincent regained his balance and took off after them. He squeezed through the body-width lane between the desks, jostled past the workers on either side, strained to catch up with Roger.\n\nJessica roused the employee from his daze. She whispered frantically in his ear but to no response.\n\n\"Lena stop!\" Roger lunged for her and pulled her back by the suspenders. \"What are you doing?\"\n\nVincent arrived close behind with a clear view for the first time. The employee had bland eyes and a plain face, and was in all ways indistinguishable from his peers. He paid them a bored-looking glance before resuming his work.\n\n\"But...\" Jessica watched in disbelief as the employee's eyes glazed over, \"... but he was standing.\"\n\n\"He was stretching,\" snapped Roger. \"Look.\" He pointed further along the ring where another employee had risen from his desk. The man did a few bends to either side before sitting down again. Jessica blinked fiercely as she watched him, as if willing him back to his feet.\n\n\"You've made me look like a fool,\" said Roger. A man at a desk nearby looked up at them as they passed. \" _And_ you've disturbed my workers.\" He pulled the mic from his front pocket and grabbed Vincent with the same hand that held Jessica, dragging them back the way they'd come. \"I may not have any say over _your_ trade but your _brother's_ trade is a different story. I will personally _shred_ any Newsight application labeled 'Ben Carlson'.\"\n\nAt the sound of the name, another employee looked up, a woman this time. She met Vincent's eyes with a clouded, uninterested glance, then resumed her sim-induced stupor.\n\n\"Everyone,\" said Roger, speaking into the mic, \"please refocus on the...\"\n\n\"Ben,\" said Jessica.\n\nVincent continued to catch the fogged-over eyes of the workers, every empty look a drumbeat on his brain, a vibration of some lurking thought to the surface.\n\n\"Ben,\" she prompted him again. \"I'm sorry.\"\n\nThe last two words fell mute in his mind under the echo of his borrowed name.\n\n\"... I repeat,\" Roger continued into the mic, \"you will return to your work.\"\n\nVincent inspected the employees' eyes, their haze, their utter lack of recognition. They could all look up with the same expression of indifference, hear the names Ben and Lena Carlson as hollow syllables, and resume their toil. Except for John. He would recognize the names he had provided. He would know them.\n\n\"I apologize once again,\" said Roger. \"Thank you, and—\"\n\nVincent wrested the mic from his grip. \"Ben and Lena Carlson.\" He said the names into the receiver with one hand, fought off Roger with the other.\n\n\"What are you—\"\n\n\"Ben and Lena Carlson.\" He repeated the names, holding the mic out of Roger's reach. He scanned the employees around them for movement. John would stand – he would stand with some sort of signal.\n\n\"Ben and Lena—\"\n\n\"Give me that!\" Roger snatched the mic from his hands and thrust it back in his pocket. They had emerged onto the path, and the crowd of workers remained still. \"Absolutely inexcusable, beyond inconsiderate of...\"\n\nVincent's heart sank at the sight of their motionless frames, then sank further still when he saw the path ahead. Men and women in high-collared jumpsuits poured from the conference room, followed close behind by a handful of Privacy Officers.\n\n\"... not to mention disrespectful of Derek. He stuck his neck out for you, and this is how you repay him?\"\n\nVincent's eyes darted from face to face as they passed, certain every man in gray would be Marcus.\n\n\"This is all to say nothing of your school. Disciplinary action will be—\"\n\n\"Roger?\" a man called out behind them.\n\nRoger froze in his tracks. Vincent held his breath as they turned around, but the man who had spoken approached from the desks, not the conference room. He had a long, drooping face that was nearly as pale as his jumpsuit, and a general excess of skin that sagged from his doughy frame. His Lenses were afflicted with an even denser haze than his colleagues, rendering his eyes, but for the pupils, a smoky shade of gray.\n\nRoger sighed impatiently. \"What is it, William?\"\n\nThe man wringed his hands, avoiding eye contact, as if speaking more to himself than to Roger. \"It's... probably nothing. In fact I'm sure I misheard. But when you were talking just now, in the announcement I mean, I could have sworn I heard the names of my children.\"\n\nVincent's lungs stopped mid-breath. He felt a wild urge to turn and sprint down the path.\n\n\" _These_ two are your children?\" said Roger.\n\nMr. Carlson looked at Vincent and Jessica for the first time, beholding them with a faded, confused look, squinting as if through a thick mist.\n\n\"I wouldn't claim them either,\" Roger said with a smirk. \"They've caused me nothing but trouble. The girl even darted off halfway through the tour. She must have been looking for you.\"\n\nMr. Carlson perked up at this, eyes fluttering into focus. \"You were looking for me?\"\n\nJessica frowned and parted her lips but said nothing. Vincent stayed quiet as well, hoping silence would preserve whatever mirage the man was inside.\n\n\"It _has_ been a long time, hasn't it?\" Mr. Carlson tilted his head, studying them through fogged eyes. \"Years.\"\n\nJessica's frown started to fade, and Vincent began to breathe again, muscles no longer so tense.\n\n\"Well I can assure you you're not missing out,\" said Roger, businesslike once more. \"And we were actually just leaving so—\"\n\n\"Let's spend the weekend together.\" Mr. Carlson turned to Vincent as he spoke. The haze over his eyes, if just a layer of it, had begun to clear. \"In the residences, just the three of us.\"\n\nVincent opened his mouth to respond but found his tongue too dry to form words. Mr. Carlson winced at the hesitation.\n\n\"Of course if you'd rather not, I would understand.\"\n\nVincent hesitated a moment longer, saw the stillness of the man's shoulders, the flitting back and forth of his eyes while he waited, and, after a pause, the resigned nodding of his head.\n\n\"It was silly of me to ask. I'm sorry.\"\n\nVincent felt an inexplicable rush of guilt as the man turned away, then had a sudden thought. \"Sir?\"\n\nMr. Carlson looked back with his gaze a bit glassier than before. Roger let out an exasperated sigh.\n\n\"That's well past enough. We're leaving.\" He pulled on Vincent's overalls, but Vincent stayed where he was, still staring at Mr. Carlson.\n\n\"We'll stay with you,\" he said.\n\nJessica's eyes grew wide with alarm. \"Ben, what are you doing?\"\n\nVincent ignored her. If they were to come back to the headquarters to look for John, they would need a way in, and Mr. Carlson was their only option, whatever the risk. \"We'll stay with you,\" he repeated.\n\nMr. Carlson raised a brow in surprise. \"Really?\"\n\nVincent nodded, avoiding another of Jessica's questioning looks.\n\n\"That would be great. I won't be home until later this evening, but we'll have all day tomorrow.\"\n\nRoger rolled his eyes. \"Lovely. Now back to work, William.\" He yanked Vincent's suspenders, and the three of them started down the path. Mr. Carlson gave them one last nod before sitting down at his desk, smiling as he resumed his surveillance.\nChapter 15 – The Residences\n\nRoger didn't let go of them until they were outside on the street. \"I'll see to it that the school devises a punishment for both of you. And for you,\" he looked at Vincent, \"have fun starting over in a new trade.\" He smirked, then started back for the doors of the lobby.\n\nJessica waited until he was out of earshot. \"The residences? What were you thinking?\"\n\nVincent shrugged. \"We needed someone inside.\"\n\n\"But why _him_?\"\n\n\"Do you have another option?\"\n\n\"That's not the point.\"\n\nVincent exhaled and looked up at the top floors of the tower. He knew all too well what her point was. Even if Mr. Carlson hadn't seen his children for a decade, he wouldn't be fooled by borrowed ID prints indefinitely.\n\n\"It's just for the weekend,\" said Vincent. \"Really just tomorrow. We'll be all right.\"\n\nJessica watched the doors of the lobby, brow still creased with concern, as if expecting Mr. Carlson to come hurtling out after them. She took a deep breath. \"Okay.\"\n\nSeeming in silent agreement that a claustrophobic transport, after the densely packed desks of the Privacy level, carried little appeal, they started forward on foot. It took them just a quarter of an hour to get through the rest of the working sector, but once they passed into the recreation ring, progress slowed to a creep. Under flashy storefronts and blinking neon signs, hordes of citizens clogged the streets to book lodging for their free Newsim. They congregated around alluring booths at the bottoms of the towers – the circular ones they had seen from above with Derek – vying for attention from the women in tight white dresses. After well over an hour of pushing through the traffic, Vincent and Jessica arrived at the base of the flat-topped mushroom structure Derek had called the residences.\n\n\"It's bigger up close,\" said Jessica.\n\nThe towers were full skyscrapers, not just the narrow support beams for the disc they supported above.\n\n\"He didn't say where we're supposed to go, did he?\"\n\nVincent shook his head. He peered through the maze of towers toward the center. A larger tower – almost twice the size of the others – was open all along the bottom story, completely transparent as the Newsight lobby had been. \"Let's try there,\" he said.\n\nThey continued on, and as they entered the shade cast by the saucer above, they could see the towers clearly for the first time. The bases of them were surrounded by what looked like Seclusion domes, only these domes fluttered in the breeze.\n\n\"What are those?\" asked Jessica.\n\nVincent shrugged. He was less interested in the domes themselves than the people sitting outside them: the men and women with glazed-over eyes in plain, rigid chairs. Their stares were blank and their mouths slightly agape. If not for the occasional rise and fall of the people's stomachs, Vincent may have begun feeling for pulses.\n\nThey continued to walk in silence. The only sound came from the flapping of the domes' fabric-like material in the wind.\n\nWhen the doors of the lobby slid open to receive them, the eerie quiet of the outside was replaced by the soft, echoing cry of infants. The room, nearly double the size of the Newsight lobby, was filled with children, most of whom were accompanied by at least one parent. Some leaned back against the glass perimeter of the space; some simply stretched out in the middle of the tile floor. Judging by the style – and state – of their clothes, Vincent had a decent guess as to where the people were from.\n\n\"I guess these are the start-up packages everyone was looking forward to,\" he said. He looked at the small white bags at the children's feet, the ones the escorts had handed the new families when they first arrived in Hux. Most of the bags had already been torn open so only their wrappers remained, but a few still contained the product inside: stacks of cards, each with writing at the top and a long, complicated code below. The one nearest – at the feet of a man whose eyes had rolled back into his head, and whose small child lay next to him, sniffling – was close enough to read. At the top of the card, above the code, the thing was labeled _Newsim_.\n\n\"Ben,\" said Jessica.\n\nVincent had stopped; his eyes were locked on the child. It was exceptionally still.\n\nJessica pulled at his sleeve. \"Look.\"\n\nHe turned to her, then followed her finger. Just a few steps from them, sprawled out among the others with his daughter, was Jim, the man they'd met when entering the city. His eyes were glazed over, but they hadn't rolled back quite as far as those of the man with the infant – they were looking up at Vincent.\n\n\"I remember you,\" said Jim. His voice wasn't the loud, booming one from outside the halos. It was soft, unsure.\n\n\"Hi, Jim.\" Vincent spoke quietly, just above a whisper, afraid too loud a noise would shatter the blood-tinted Lenses in Jim's eyes.\n\n\"Have you tried these?\" asked Jim. He held up one of the empty wrappers from the Newsim access cards.\n\n\"I have.\" Vincent noticed for the first time how many of the wrappers there were – Jim's daughter was nearly covered with them. \"How many have you done?\"\n\nJim shrugged. The movement seemed to require a great deal of effort for him. \"I haven't kept track. But they pass the time while the residences find us a place to live.\"\n\n\"This is where they're keeping you?\" asked Jessica. \"In the lobby?\"\n\n\"For the families with children,\" said Jim. \"Everyone else stays in the tents outside.\"\n\nVincent thought of the cloth-made domes surrounding the towers. The only people he had seen there had been adults.\n\n\"What about Tina?\" asked Jessica. \"Is she in one of the tents?\"\n\nJim shook his head. He jostled his daughter next to him as he moved, but she didn't stir. \"She isn't with us. She's in quarantine with some sort of virus.\" He paused to catch his breath. \"She'll join us as soon as she's cured.\"\n\nVincent bit the inside of his cheek. Jim's wife had seemed perfectly healthy at the checkpoint – Jim had said it himself – and Newsight had diagnosed her anyway. About what the diagnosis was or what the treatment would be, Vincent did not have a good feeling.\n\n\"Now, you'll have to excuse me.\" Jim fumbled in a bag propped up against his daughter's head. \"I'm going to enter another sim.\" He paused, holding up the access code he had just retrieved. \"It was good to see you.\" His eyes went out of focus, hesitated there, then rolled back into his head. Jessica tugged at Vincent's sleeve, and he let himself be pulled away.\n\nThey wound through the other motionless families in the lobby until they reached the front desk. After identifying them with the same club-shaped stick the Guard had used, the receptionist told them their suite number and directed them to a room of transports. Neither of them spoke during the ride up. What words they may have said were, under surveillance, better to remain as thoughts.\n\nThe pod took them to a bright hallway where a door with their number on it was directly across from them. Stepping forward, Vincent held his right eye to the door's scanner, but just as the screen blinked in response, his vision went black, showing only the rotating eye of Newsight across either Lens. A sweet voice spoke from off-screen.\n\n\"This is a Newsight public announcement.\"\n\nAfter a pause, the sim shifted to the same cramped room they had seen in the classroom hack: the single chair, the mounted camera, the lamp. The man from the previous announcement was already seated, posture slumped and still, head tilted limply to the side. A trio of white-uniformed members of the Guard rifled through his clothes, obscuring the better part of his face.\n\n\"After apprehending the Seclusion bomber this morning,\" the voice continued, \"Newsight collaborated with the Guard to go after the Order's leader.\"\n\nThe feed changed. Marcus stood in front of the Newsight tower, attempting to climb into his convoy of transports, but being blocked by reporters. Relenting, he paused for a comment.\n\n\"The issue with the hack has been extremely embarrassing,\" he said. \"We made our resolution of the matter a priority, and we were rewarded for doing so. Let this serve as a message to the rest of the Order.\"\n\nHe broke through the crowd, and climbed into the transport. The image returned to the small room and the man in the chair.\n\n\"With the combined specialties of the Guard and Newsight,\" the woman continued, \"the raid of the Order's headquarters was successful. Their leader, though killed in the crossfire, was able to be identified.\"\n\nIn unison, as if cued, the members of the Guard stepped back from the man, exposing him fully for the first time. His face was pale and his hair was wiry and unkempt. The skin of his cheeks was flat against the bone, and the area above, the eyes alleged to have been gouged out by the man himself, were very much present. They were bloodshot, with perfect circles of red around where his Lenses ended, and with a dead, sightless stare directed straight at the camera. He looked different, but Vincent would recognize the man anywhere. It was not George Goodwin – it was Father.\n\n\"Senator Tom Smith has been directly implicated in the Order's recent attacks,\" said the narrator. \"Evidence is still forthcoming, but the Guard expects to find traces of Smith's involvement as far back as a decade.\"\n\nVincent could feel his heartbeat in a vein in his temple. It throbbed against his skull like a liquid drum, but he was numb to it. He had attention only for the sim, for the blank, vacant stare of his father.\n\n\"We apologize for any trauma these unwanted appearances have caused,\" said the woman, \"and we promise to do better in the future. Have a great evening.\"\n\nThe hollowed cheeks and pale skin of Tom Smith disappeared, and the hallway returned. The door had already opened, but Vincent stayed where he was. A lump began to swell in his throat as he processed the woman's words. Father was dead, and with him out of the way, Newsight would have no reason to keep Mother as leverage.\n\n\"Ben?\" said Jessica.\n\nVincent didn't look at her. \"It's not true what they're saying. You know that, right? They're using him.\"\n\n\"I... I don't think we should talk about—\"\n\n\"There you are!\" Mr. Carlson rounded the corner from inside, wearing a broad grin.\n\nIn the first second Vincent was too shocked to speak, and in the next, too disgusted and angered by the man's out of place smile even to look him in the face.\n\n\"Mr. Carlson,\" Jessica said in surprise. \"We thought you wouldn't be home until late.\"\n\n\"So did I, but I managed to get free. Now come in. It must be ages since you last saw the apartment.\"\n\nHe grabbed them both by the wrists and pulled them inside. The living room and kitchen beside it were both standard: the usual Newsight white and open-concept style. The ceiling, however, was far from typical. The entire thing served as an enormous window, no beams or supports, only glass, and beyond that only sky.\n\n\"It's in the very center of the disc, but the view is nearly as good as the edges.\"\n\n\"It's...\" Jessica trailed off, gaze lingering on Vincent, eyes glassy with tears. \"It's great.\"\n\nMr. Carlson had already pressed into the living room, expression glued into a grin. \"Very good, very good. Now are you two hungry? How about I take us to dinner?\"\n\nHe looked at Vincent as he spoke but received only a blank stare in return. Vincent could offer nothing else – he hadn't fully registered the man's presence. It seemed somehow impossible to him, somehow cruel.\n\n\"We're tired,\" said Jessica. \"We should really get some sleep.\"\n\n\"But it's not even 7:00 yet. Ben, you'll go with me at least?\"\n\nAt this direct appeal, Vincent could avoid a reply no longer. \"No, sir. I was planning on going to bed.\"\n\n\"Well surely you can postpone that an hour. We don't have to go far.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, sir, I can't.\"\n\n\"But there's this place in the recreation ring that—\"\n\n\"Sir I told you—\"\n\n\"—terrific service and—\"\n\n\"Mr. Carlson.\"\n\nThe man sighed. \"For heaven's sake, enough with the 'sirs' and 'Mr. Carlsons'. I know I've not been there for you, but you can still call me Father.\"\n\nThe word sucked the warmth from the room. Vincent felt his cheeks burning red. \"I will not,\" he strained to keep his voice level, \"call you Father.\"\n\n\"Ben this is hard for me too.\"\n\n\"I'm not going to call you that.\"\n\n\"But there are some things you can't change.\"\n\nVincent shook his head, repeating the same words as before, tears rising to his eyes.\n\n\"I'm your father, Ben.\"\n\n\"Stop!\" Vincent snapped what little composure he had left. His pitch strained and broke and his voice neared a shout. \"Please stop. I just want to go to bed. I don't care what you say, you're not my—\"\n\nHe caught himself before the last word, but it didn't seem to make a difference. Mr. Carlson's paternal smile fell into a frown, something closer to confusion than disappointment. \"But you came to the headquarters. You were looking for me.\"\n\n\"No we weren't,\" said Vincent. \"We didn't even know where you worked.\"\n\nJessica wore a worried look but said nothing. Mr. Carlson had eyes only for Vincent.\n\n\"I know I've wronged you,\" he said, \"both of you. And I know I don't deserve a second chance, but we're together now.\"\n\n\"We didn't _want_ to be together with you. You're not who we were looking for.\"\n\n\"Then I can be different, I can—\"\n\n\"Not...\" Vincent halted his voice from rising again, clenched his hands into fists. He had to concentrate to focus past the blood beating in his temple. \"We do not need different. We need someone else.\"\n\nMr. Carlson recoiled from Vincent's words, shrinking at the shoulders with his eyes low, though not low enough to hide the tears gathering there. He seemed on the verge of speech, mouth open and lips trembling, but never quite managed to form words, and with one last glance at Vincent he turned and left the room.\n\nVincent let out a breath when the man had gone, but he could feel only an odd sort of guilt, could see only the unending image of his real father, the sightless eyes, the pale skin...\n\n\"I'm sorry, Ben,\" said Jessica. She hesitated when Vincent didn't look at her, then wrapped her arms around him. \"Goodnight.\"\n\nShe released him a second later and disappeared through the living room.\n\nSomething swelled in Vincent's throat, but the tears didn't come. They remained dammed behind his Lenses, held there by faint thoughts of the small brown house, of his parents and seeing them again around their simulated dinner table.\n\nHis eyes navigated to the sim library. He scrolled to the bottom of the list and hovered over the thumbnail for Newsim. The white emblem of an eye stared back at him, seeming to lull him in, to urge him onward with each trance-like rotation. But he paused. Just moments ago that same eye had carried no promise of escape or pleasure as it did now. Moments ago it had carried only pain.\n\nHe thought of Jim and his daughter and all the others in the lobby far below, of their fogged-over eyes and limply parted lips, of their false dreams given by false simulations.\n\nHe thought once again of the small brown house, of his father and mother waiting for him inside, and the feeble dam holding his tears began to falter.\n\n* * * * * *\n\nVincent's eyes flashed open just in time to see the white stick being pressed against his temple. His Lenses fired with a sharp, icy chill then exploded with white light. He was completely blind as a rough pair of hands jerked him from his bed. Blind, still, as a different set of hands closed over his mouth.\n\n\"Your Newsims indicate the presence of a virus,\" said a voice above him. \"You are being quarantined.\"\n\nVincent tried to say something back, but the hand on his face held the words in his throat. He tried to lash out instead, but his limbs felt as if they had been detached from him, useless and completely immobile in the vice-like grips of his captors. Growing desperate, he was preparing to bite the hand over his mouth when the white light began to fade and his vision began to clear. Above him, he could start to make out the men dragging him. They were little more than silhouettes in the dark, but he could see the color of their uniforms clearly nonetheless. He could see the gray.\n\nVincent doubled his struggle, which amounted to little more than a slight inconvenience to the men holding him. By the time they reached the main room, Vincent's captors hadn't broken stride.\n\nThe door across the room slid open, and another huddle of men emerged with Jessica, whose eyes had only just begun to return from pure white.\n\n\"What are you doing?\" someone shouted.\n\nVincent couldn't see who spoke; his captors were standing in the way.\n\n\"Let my children go!\"\n\nMr. Carlson had emerged from the master bedroom, hauled by his own rough escort.\n\n\"Don't you touch them!\" he shouted again, struggling in vain as his captors towed him forward.\n\nThey were almost to the door. They would go to the transport pods, maybe even walk through the front lobby. It was the weekend – no one would wake up from their simulations.\n\nThe main door slid open. They started out into the hall—\n\nThe silence of the room split down the middle with an ear-splitting explosion.\n\nVincent struggled to look back, but his captors held fast. Some of them turned, raising their short white clubs, only to crumple where they stood. There was a chorus of muffled thuds as the officers fell, one by one, and their grips went limp. It took Vincent a moment to realize he was no longer being held. He turned around. The glass ceiling now lay in dagger-shaped shards on the floor, and where it had once been was a pair of military-dressed transports. Out the doors hung half a dozen gun-wielding men, while another, who looked suspiciously like Brian, had already started down the ramp.\n\n\"John,\" whispered Jessica.\n\nTaller and broader-shouldered than his brother, and wearing a roguish, reckless kind of grin, John crossed over to them.\n\n\"You have THE SIM?\" he asked.\n\nWithout a word, Vincent held out his left wrist. The Lens case flickered as if in anticipation, then fell into John's outstretched hand.\n\n\"How did you find us?\" asked Jessica.\n\nJohn pocketed THE SIM and turned to Mr. Carlson. \"I had help.\"\n\nMr. Carlson cast them a cautious, humble look as he got to his feet. \"You said you were looking for someone else, so I messaged all of my colleagues. Only one knew you by name.\"\n\n\"You messaged everyone in the headquarters?\" said Jessica.\n\n\"If I wasn't who you wanted,\" said Mr. Carlson, shrugging, \"I had to find who was.\" He looked at Vincent as he spoke, eyes leaking tears onto tremoring lips. \"I—\"\n\nThere was an explosion under his feet, and he plummeted through the floor, words and screams alike lost in the blast. Where he'd just disappeared, ladders rose through the smoke, then Privacy Officers.\n\nJohn dragged Vincent and Jessica into the kitchen, a pistol freshly pulled from his belt. \"Get to the transport!\" He had to shout to be heard over the racket. \"Go!\"\n\nHe joined his companions flocking to the scene with his weapon already drawn, already firing. Before Vincent and Jessica could follow, a large, square-jawed man took them by the wrists and towed them to the transport.\n\nVincent resisted and stared at the spot where Mr. Carlson had just been, and where now there were nothing but flames and gray jumpsuits.\n\n\"Your Lenses need darkened!\" shouted the man.\n\n\"They already have been!\" Vincent shouted back.\n\n\"Not by us.\" The man pulled a black version of the Officer clubs from his jacket. Vincent shouted a protest, but his words fell mute under a crescendo of gunshots. A second later the tip of the club was at his temple, and his vision went black. The same chill as before engulfed his Lenses, freezing them to his eyes. He sagged against the man guiding them, eyelids drooping with fatigue, the gunfire coming muffled and slowed, and by the time they stumbled up the ramp, he was gone.\nPart III – The Order\nChapter 16 – THE SIM\n\nThe place reminded Vincent of Simon's cellar – the walls were dark and damp, the floor was slick and streaked with mud, and the air clung to one's skin like a thick sweat. Here, however, the space was not so cramped. It was taller and longer and curved in the shape of a tunnel.\n\nJessica was next to him, propped, as he was, against a giant metal grate. Ahead of them a rusted table sat along the left wall, a tattered black curtain hung from the ceiling.\n\n\"Wake her.\"\n\nVincent whipped his head in the direction of the voice. Opposite the table, John stood in shadow. Vincent had looked right past him.\n\n\"Now,\" said John. \"We have work to do.\"\n\nFlustered, Vincent turned to Jessica, but she had already stirred from the voices, blinking a few times before opening her eyes all the way.\n\n\"Where are we?\" she asked.\n\n\"The base of the Order,\" said John, eyeing the curved and grime-stained walls. \"Sewers in a city 'we' bombed out of existence. We call them tunnels.\"\n\nJessica looked up at John, face fraught with confusion. \"How did we get here?\"\n\n\"Transports. We flew for over an hour.\"\n\n\"So we're close to the border,\" joined Vincent. \"Are we leaving? Are we going for help?\"\n\n\"There is no guarantee of help beyond the border. And besides, we would be spotted long before we got there.\"\n\n\"Then how did we get out of Hux? How did they not track us? How did we pass the—\"\n\n\"Easy,\" said John, grinning. He had a calm, confident way about him that reminded Vincent of Brian. \"Our transports can evade Newsight satellites. For short trips, at least.\"\n\n\"So we can go to the Seclusion,\" said Jessica hopefully. \"We can rescue my dad.\"\n\n\"In time. But first there are questions that need answering.\" John raised the plastic Lens case of THE SIM. \"How did you find this?\"\n\n\"Your brother,\" said Jessica. \"He told us where it was.\"\n\nJohn tilted his head back in a silent question. He looked at them both. \"Brian told you?\"\n\nVincent and Jessica both nodded. John looked away from them, his gaze locked on a puddle leaking from the grate.\n\n\"Were you with him in any of your Newsims? Or my mother?\"\n\nThey shook their heads. \"No,\" said Vincent. \"Why?\"\n\nJohn took a breath. \"You'll have been told how Newsims work – they detect what the user wants to experience – but you won't have been told why. This detection isn't for the user's benefit, it's for Newsight's. They monitor each Newsim closely, and any suspicious activity is reported and tracked.\"\n\n\"And flagged,\" said Jessica.\n\nJohn nodded. \"That's why I asked about Brian and my mother. If either of you were with them in your Newsims, and you spoke about the Order, they could be in danger.\"\n\nVincent cocked his head with his brow furrowed. \"They? But Brian... did Lynn not tell you—\"\n\n\"I never saw them,\" cut in Jessica. Vincent turned to her, confused, but she continued without looking at him. \"I was with my dad. My mom was still alive, too. We were working on our transport to take it off the grid.\"\n\nJohn nodded, relaxing a little. He turned to Vincent. \"And you?\" he prompted.\n\nVincent watched Jessica for a moment longer, frowning. \"I was with my parents, too,\" he said after a pause. \"We were just talking. Maybe about things we shouldn't have been.\"\n\n\"It's all right,\" said John. \"That doesn't matter now. My family is safe, and so are you.\"\n\nVincent turned once again to Jessica. She refused to look at him.\n\n\"You cut it close, though,\" continued John. \"I couldn't get to you in time when I heard your names in the HQ. Had Mr. Carlson not contacted me I may never have found you, and THE SIM and all our hope against Newsight may have been lost. As it is, Goodwin is very pleased.\"\n\n\"So he _is_ real,\" said Vincent, pulling his gaze from Jessica. \"Goodwin?\"\n\nJohn smiled and tossed Vincent THE SIM. \"It's all in there. Every question you have will be detected before you ask.\" He started for the curtain but paused when Vincent called out to him.\n\n\"But how can we watch it? They darkened our Lenses.\"\n\n\"We darkened them, too,\" said John. \"You're on _our_ network now. You can communicate with other members of the Order and watch whatever sim you like. Newsight is blind.\" He shot them one last smile, and he was gone.\n\nBefore the curtain had settled Jessica was reaching for THE SIM. Vincent closed his fist around it before she could take it.\n\n\"What are you doing?\" he asked.\n\n\"He said we could watch it. I'm just—\"\n\n\"Not that,\" said Vincent. He motioned to the curtain. \"With John. Why didn't you let me tell him?\"\n\nJessica looked up at him for the first time. \"I didn't want to ruin everything. What happened to Brian was my fault and John would—\"\n\n\"It wasn't your fault,\" said Vincent.\n\nJessica said nothing. She merely stared weakly back at him, her eyes wide and glistening at the corners. In the dim yellow glow of the bulbs above, Vincent could see the hurt hiding under her Lenses. The guilt.\n\n\"Jessica it wasn't your fault.\" His voice was softer now, his words fading as quickly as the dripping behind the grate. \"It wasn't. He'll understand that.\"\n\nJessica looked up at the curtain where John had just disappeared. She didn't seem convinced.\n\n\"I can be the one to tell him,\" said Vincent.\n\n\"No. I'll tell him.\" She turned away from the curtain, back to Vincent's closed fist. \"But after this.\"\n\nAs if by a switch she seemed composed again, but Vincent wasn't fooled. He could read the emotion in her face just as he had learned to detect the slight shake in her voice.\n\n\"There will be a better time,\" pressed Jessica. \"Just not now.\"\n\nVincent watched her for a second longer, then glanced at the curtain.\n\n\"Here.\" She placed her hands on his and gently pulled his fingers open. Before he had turned back to her, she had lifted the case from his palm and unsealed the top.\n\n\"Brian would want us to watch it,\" she said.\n\nVincent looked down at the thin, miniature Lenses in the container. \"And we'll tell John?\"\n\n\"We will. Soon.\"\n\nVincent watched her for a moment more, then took a breath. He nodded.\n\nA second later one of the prints was over his right eye. His vision was wiped of the tunnel and replaced with a loading screen different than normal: a pitch-black circle over a white background, no rotation, no movement. And then the circle was gone. He was in the small brown house with his elbows on the wooden dinner table, his eyes on the worry-worn face of his father.\n\n\"Hello, son.\"\n\nVincent glanced around the table, expecting to find Jessica there with him but finding no one but Father.\n\n\"She is experiencing THE SIM in her own way. We are alone.\"\n\nVincent stared open-mouthed at the man before him. He was no projection. He carried no hint of falseness or fabrication, only the real flesh Vincent had always known, only the temptation of life soon to be snatched away. \"You're not real.\"\n\nFather smiled sympathetically. \"I am part of the simulation. What you learn here will be foreign, so it is best to come from someone familiar.\"\n\nVincent's last meager amount of hope disappeared. His mind wandered back to the image of Father he last knew: the lifeless, blood-stained body in the chair, the sallow skin and sightless eyes.\n\n\"I know your questions,\" continued Father. \"Some cannot be answered. Some _must_ not be answered. But the rest, I endeavor to attempt.\" He smiled, warm and genuine in spite of his stilted language. \"Let us begin.\"\n\nThe table swam with movement at these last words. Its surface became dark and glossy, forming a liquidy black circle like that from the loading screen.\n\n\"Aldous Fatrem founded Newsight some fifty years ago with his invention of Lenses. He has since expanded the company's product line far beyond Lenses, and far beyond what is visible to the public.\"\n\nThe table's surface pulsed and glinted with life, no more seeming so solid. Vincent stared down into it, feeling for some reason that his stare was returned, but Father continued unfazed.\n\n\"Transports, we knew. Defense systems, we knew. But on the other side of defense, in the realm of arms, we had but dreamed. Our awakening came when our agents found enough Seclusion factories to arm a terrorist organization. Now we know Newsight has not just armed such an organization; it has become one.\"\n\nThe black surface of the table began to shrink inward, exposing beyond its borders a white perimeter, and beyond that a larger ellipse until the very shape of the wood had changed, and an image of the Newsight eye stared up at them.\n\n\"Thus, Newsight began acting in the name of its main resistance: the Order.\"\n\nThe table and eye vanished as one, and Vincent looked up. They were outside, but the sun was a puddle of black, the colors beneath it a shade darker than usual, the very air a thick, shadowy haze.\n\n\"Doing so was only a slight escalation from the true Order's actions. Beyond its peaceful protests, the true Order had released threats, even launched attacks of its own. It was this violent tendency that allowed Fatrem's plan a smooth execution.\n\n\"Newsight's first attacks came against its own factories.\" Father pointed across the gray, lifeless plain on which they stood, toward an enormous, hemisphere dome in the distance. As soon as he did, the sky split with a black streak, and the dome exploded.\n\n\"It didn't take much investigation for the public to suspect the Order, and when the attacks continued, some against more Newsight locations, others against areas high in Newsight support, the Order's guilt was undeniable.\n\n\"By undermining the name of the Order, Newsight solved its first problem: the presence of protestors.\"\n\nThe plain was gone, and they were at the doors of a capitol building. Men and women with white picket signs stood on the steps. Members of the Guard sprayed them with jet streams of black liquid, the drops of which sank without mark into the ground, the targets of which, the people with the signs, faded as apparitions into smoke.\n\n\"But there were more obstacles to overcome.\"\n\nThey were in a Senate hearing, strangely mobile as they soared from row to row, drifting from man to man so close as to see the rims of Lenses.\n\n\"With Lenses, Newsight could access everything about every user: where he goes, who he sees, what food he shoves down his throat. But the Senate and the city governments restricted the kind of information Newsight collected. Fatrem had built an empire of data, but his kingdom had been sealed from him.\"\n\nTheir movement came to a stop in the center of the gathering. A screen at the front of the room seemed to act out Father's words as he spoke, with ever more gruesome images, ever more unnatural explosions of black.\n\n\"And so Newsight's attacks became part of a larger campaign. Their targets expanded from Newsight-related to civilian, from civilian to political. Members of the Order, at first perceived only as protesters, were now considered terrorists. The Guard made every effort in retaliation but achieved only meager results. The public grew restless. They wanted justice; they wanted blood. And who else should offer their help?\"\n\nThe senate and screen disappeared, and the scent of fresh air entered Vincent's nostrils. They stood outside of Hux with their eyes trained upward on the tower-width halos.\n\n\"Newsight began approaching municipalities, insisting that, with the right data, and with total participation in the Lens standard, it could find the secret members of the Order and put a stop to the violence. The pressure on governments to mandate the wearing of Lenses increased with every attack, and eventually, at the urging of the public, it grew too great to resist.\"\n\nTheir focus panned to the would-be citizens in lines outside the kiosks, the men and women with eyes soon to be cloaked in glass.\n\n\"City after city gave in – they required their citizens to wear Lenses; they gave Newsight access to the data – and each was rewarded with relative peace. And thus was solved Newsight's problem of information. In exchange for catching the perpetrators of the violence it itself manufactures, Newsight receives more data than any one man could possibly conceive.\"\n\nStrings of white digits tore through the air until they formed whole walls of white. Vincent had to shield his eyes from the brightness as he surveyed their new surroundings. They were at the front of an empty Seclusion classroom.\n\n\"And still, Newsight's reign was not solidified, for even after vanquishing the true Order and reclaiming its data, there remained one final challenge: the people.\"\n\nStudents in white overalls appeared in the desks, eyes fixed forward with attention.\n\n\"These people, as supposed by Newsight, fall into one of two types, and must be controlled by one of two means. The first type, the majority –\" the students shifted at the word, expressions soft and bland – \"prioritizes happiness over freedom, and is by far the larger of the two types. The majority, with their systemic lack of motivation and craving of leisure, are most easily controlled if kept in a state of bliss.\"\n\nThe eyes of one of the students grew wide, his lips parted with joy. In the glass of his Lenses flashed black, ghost-like images too blurred to discern.\n\n\"Therefore, Newsight created Newsim: simulations to provide customizable, virtual experiences with no effort on the part of the user.\"\n\nThe student in the sim disappeared and his classmates followed suit, leaving in their wake a single girl in the back row.\n\n\"The second type, the minority, prioritizes freedom over happiness, and is significantly fewer than the majority. Controlling people of this type requires careful cultivation of two traits: intellect and desire for fulfillment. The minority are unsatisfied by meaningless leisure, and must therefore be crushed.\"\n\nA drip of black escaped from the girl's pupils. She shook at the shoulders as the color gushed out, going still only when every bit of her Lenses had been covered.\n\n\"Given the existence of these two distinct types, and assuming the ultimate aim is ultimate control, the most reasonable course of action for Newsight once again lies in the Order.\"\n\nThe classroom was gone, and dead-looking fields flew by beneath them, as if scrolling under their feet on a wheel. Lit in every square inch by the unnatural black flames, farms and open roads lay in ruin.\n\n\"Newsight focused its attacks on the outskirts of society, until all who remained resided in the cities.\"\n\nThe motion ceased, and they stood on an urban, tar-repaired sidewalk in the bustle of pedestrians. Down from a clear sky floated dozens of pamphlets of paper, bundled neatly at the edges and supported by small black parachutes.\n\n\"One by one, the cities received their warnings: join our fight against Newsight or die – there is, of course, no way of joining the fight – and one by one their inhabitants either fled to standard cities –\" the paper pamphlets caught fire, their floating descent became rapid and fierce, the crowd was engulfed in a black blaze – \"or they have perished. What results is a population concentrated in large, easily surveilled settlements. This provides the perfect opportunity for sorting.\"\n\nThe blaze cleared, exposing not the sidewalk but the inside of a halo where Vincent and Jessica had been scanned by the Guard, and where now crowds of families underwent the same process.\n\n\"When driven into a Newsight stronghold by the Order's warnings, every man, woman, and child is subjected to review. Those judged to be in the majority are allowed to stay in the city, while those judged to be in the minority are sent to a Seclusion.\"\n\nA young boy, after being scanned, was yanked from the line by a Guard and dragged down a side hall. His family marched forward without notice.\n\n\"After sorting, the majority are protected by Newsight, and so grow enamored in gratitude. This love is how Newsight maintains control in the cities, but that is only half of its effort. Its mantra requires a second part as well.\"\n\nThey followed the family through the doors, and above them on the inner rim of the halo were the words: THERE IS NO LOVE WITHOUT HATRED.\n\n\"Newsight believes that for any individual to offer love, he must also offer hate. For this reason, Newsight ensures citizens of the cities maintain a healthy hatred of the Order. If the residents for some reason begin to forget this hatred, they are reminded of it.\"\n\nAs the family walked, a dagger of black stabbed down through the sky and lit the ground ablaze. The air bubbled with tar-like flames in a tempest of color, like a painting gone liquid and shaken from the outside, and there was darkness.\n\n\"Thus, Newsight can continue to be loved, and the cities can continue to be controlled.\"\n\nThey were back in the halo, walking alongside the boy being dragged by the Guard.\n\n\"The minority, besides those inhabitants of Newsight's own Seclusion, are removed from their families.\"\n\nThey were with the boy in a factory. The air was thick with gray smog, the assembly line with grease and the skin of the workers with soot.\n\n\"They are underfed, mistreated, tortured, and filled with terror. This fear is how Newsight maintains control in the Seclusions, but, like in the cities, Newsight requires something else as well.\"\n\nTheir gaze fell upon the archway of the factory exit, where a single line was inscribed: THERE IS NO FEAR WITHOUT HOPE.\n\n\"Newsight believes no man can fear his captors without first having some small hope of freedom. For this reason, Newsight encourages the slim but ever-present promise of escape. If Seclusion residents begin to lose their hope for this escape, they are given hope anew.\"\n\nOne of the workers burst from the line, evaded the halfhearted capture of the Officers around him, and bolted from the factory. His peers brightened in their soot-stained faces and turned with determined zeal to the Officers. While they struggled, and while they were easily suppressed, the man who had escaped was clandestinely towed back inside, his eyes sightless and his forehead painted with a grim circle of black blood.\n\n\"Thus, Newsight can continue to be feared, and the Seclusions can continue to be controlled.\n\n\"Newsight's three main problems – the presence of protestors, the restriction of data, and the existence of the types – have been comprehensively solved by the conversion of the Order to a terrorist group. Newsight's Order, however, is a farce. The true Order –\" the mob of malnourished workers became a circle of black, and that circle the dinner table in the small brown house – \"is far different.\"\n\nThey were back in the kitchen. Vincent spun in his seat, clutching to the wood with white knuckles. Father continued.\n\n\"The Order _does_ exist, and it _is_ resolved against the aims of the enemy. However, this does not make the prospects of victory any less daunting. Though little is certain of the outside world, hints have been breathed of two ruling lens-producers besides Newsight. Foreign help, consequently, is out of the question. We must defeat our own giant, and we must do so alone.\"\n\nFather straightened in his seat as he finished, a finality creeping into his eyes that Vincent knew all too well.\n\n\"But how? What can we do?\"\n\n\"If you are watching this simulation, you are now of the Order.\" Father continued without looking at Vincent. His words grew hoarse and deep until the voice that spoke was no longer his own. \"You have joined the fight against the corporation called Newsight.\"\n\n\"Father,\" Vincent prompted him. \"I still—\"\n\n\"The Lenses will be removed and the world will see once more.\"\n\n\"Just wait.\" Vincent reached for him from across the table. \"Father!\"\n\nThe kitchen disappeared in a wave of darkness, and the tunnel returned.\n\n\"The Lenses will be removed, and the world will see once more.\"\n\nThe last line of THE SIM was recited again by the same, deep voice that had come from Father. Vincent blinked several times to make sure the simulation had ended. He blinked several times more when a tall, wrinkled man with hollowed-out pits for eyes walked through the curtain. He knew without question this was the owner of the deep voice.\n\n\"My name is George Goodwin,\" the man said. \"Welcome to the Order.\"\nChapter 17 – The Order\n\nGoodwin walked forward, the charred black craters in his head facing the floor at an angle, his long fingers grazing the tunnel wall for support. \"I must thank you for protecting THE SIMULATION. The data it contains is invaluable, and far vaster than what you have just experienced.\" He stopped several feet from them, making a rising motion with his hands. \"Now bring it with you. We are leaving.\"\n\nVincent plucked the print from his right Lens and dropped it back in the case. Jessica did the same and by the time they stood, Goodwin had already disappeared through the curtain. They followed him, having to glance in either direction before seeing him, on the left, continuing to trace the wall down the tunnel.\n\n\"You would do well to thank Johnathan,\" said Goodwin when he heard them approaching. \"His actions led you here.\"\n\nVincent looked around them. _Here_ was still an indefinite word in his mind. This tunnel was as nondescript as the last: dark but for the yellow bulbs above, and damp with a scent that could never quite be erased.\n\n\"You mean with the ID prints?\" asked Jessica.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Goodwin. \"It took him years to become a Newsight employee, but the reward was well worth it. With his knowledge, every convert we made could have their prints removed. They became ghosts to Newsight, unidentifiable. And their identities could be recycled.\"\n\n\"So, what about Ben and Lena Carlson?\" said Vincent. His voice sounded exceptionally small when preceded by the powerful, deep voice of Goodwin. \"Are they members of the Order?\"\n\n\"They were.\" Vincent waited for him to explain, but he changed the subject instead. \"Much of THE SIMULATION regarding the cities, hopefully, was redundant. You have experienced the halos and threats of attacks and Newsim first-hand. The existence of those things, as well as their purposes, are apparent.\"\n\nNeither Vincent nor Jessica dared to speak. Goodwin had paused, but the echo of his voice seemed to linger longer than usual. Any words spoken on top of it would have been an interruption.\n\n\"However, what has become clear to us only recently,\" he continued, \"is the mechanism by which these factors of control have grown so effective. We anticipated the majority to pose at least some measure of resistance, but in the past few years, there has been almost none at all.\"\n\nGoodwin let the last words reverberate off the stone walls of the tunnel. He seemed to need to catch his breath every few sentences.\n\n\"Hatred of the Order grew to an unprecedented magnitude. Love of Newsight grew by the same amount. Newsim became irresistible. Adults began spending more and more of their time in the recreation ring, and children in their dormitories.\"\n\nHis fingers ran off the end of the tunnel wall – they had come to an intersection. He stopped in the center, breathed in deeply through his nose, then continued forward, finding the wall of the next tunnel without seam.\n\n\"It all coincided, I determined, with the founding of Newsight's newest division: maintenance. For years, they offered no maintenance because Lenses required none. But a few models ago, the upkeep suddenly jumped. Newsight claimed that, from then on, Lenses would require weekly maintenance. Terrified of losing access to their simulations, the people complied. But the Lenses themselves needed no attending; they were made to be resilient. The 'maintenance' that occurs is shrouded in mystery, but is thought to have originated in the Department of Research. You are familiar with the department?\"\n\nVincent waited for the echo to soften before he spoke. \"Yes, sir.\"\n\nGoodwin turned his eyeless sockets directly at Vincent. Vincent looked away.\n\n\"Its true function is merely to house a warehouse of surveillance hardware, but a portion of the department is dedicated to actual research. In this portion lies the true nature of the maintenance. Here, Newsight develops, tests, and produces chemical serums of various effects. Some are designed to trigger fear, others anger or happiness, others lust. These drugs are cerebral puppet strings. Release one, so moves the arm. Release another, so moves the leg.\"\n\nGoodwin paused. The echo of his voice hung over them once again, following them as they walked.\n\n\"Our informant was taken away before she could learn anything else, but what she found is unfortunately clear. These serums I speak of are being injected into the Lenses during maintenance, and released in microdoses whenever Newsight deems fit. During the morning simulation against the Order, a drop of adrenaline; during a Newsim, a drop of dopamine; during a Friday afternoon in an adolescent, a mix of aphrodisiacs. In the Birthschool, these drops are even more abundant. It is easy to see how dramatically Newsight's control can be amplified.\"\n\nVincent thought back to that previous afternoon in the school, to his conversation with Annie. The feeling had hit him almost instantly: the warmth in his face, the restlessness in his legs. So too had the satisfaction with the Newsims. Part of it had been real, the bulk of it, even, but the remaining portion had been manufactured in the Newsight headquarters.\n\n\"That is the first development,\" said Goodwin, \"and a large reason we decided to mobilize as we have. The second development is somewhat of a formality, but it is an important one. The Senate has repealed all litigations that previously bound Newsight. Data management and transparency, trust and monopoly prevention, every last restriction has been lifted to aid Newsight's pursuit of what the public imagines to be the Order. The individual municipalities have been tending in this direction for years, but a mandate by the Senate has solidified the trajectory. The beast that is Newsight has been freed from its cage.\"\n\nThey came to a thick wooden door at the end of the tunnel. Jessica, seeming to sense only Goodwin would go on, mustered the courage to speak.\n\n\"Then we can't afford to wait. We have to go back to the Seclusion. My dad is...\" She trailed off when Goodwin held up a hand.\n\n\"Your father will be rescued, but first we need the data contained in THE SIMULATION.\" He turned his sightless gaze on Vincent, who gave him THE SIM without question. \"I will inform the Order of our plan in the congregation. Until then you will have to excuse me. Johnathan will see you are tended to.\"\n\nWith a final dip of his head, Goodwin spun the knob of the door with long, slender fingers, and he passed through it. John emerged through the same door a beat later, face grave, as if proximity to Goodwin had drained him of all expression. Jessica seemed hardly to notice him.\n\n\"He said we can rescue my dad.\" Her eyes remained fixed on the door where Goodwin had just disappeared. \"Is that true?\"\n\n\"It is if he says so,\" said John. \"He doesn't make promises he can't keep. If he did you wouldn't be here.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\" asked Vincent.\n\n\"He promised my mother you would be taken care of. He promised the prints would work. It was all his idea.\"\n\n\"But I thought the prints were from you.\"\n\n\"They were, in a way. We knew Kendra would—\"\n\n\"Kendra.\" Jessica spoke with the urgency of sudden remembrance. \"She gave us a message for you. She wants you to go back for them.\"\n\n\"Back for them?\" said John, eyes wide. \"To the Hole?\"\n\nJessica withdrew slightly from John's piercing stare but gave a hesitant nod.\n\nJohn turned to the puddle at their feet. He stood like that for a moment, frowning and lost in thought, before starting down the tunnel in the opposite direction.\n\n\"Where are you going?\" asked Vincent, following.\n\n\"The Hole. Kendra wouldn't say something like that if they didn't need help.\"\n\n\"Then we'll come with you.\"\n\n\"Newsight will be monitoring the area after the attack. You should stay here.\"\n\n\"But you haven't been there in years. Will you know where to go?\"\n\n\"I'll figure it out.\"\n\n\"Under Newsight surveillance?\"\n\nVincent had to dodge to the side to avoid a collision – John had stopped in the middle of the tunnel. He turned around, fixing them both with a stern, parental kind of glare. \"I suppose you don't plan on jogging my memory.\"\n\n\"Not from here,\" said Vincent.\n\nJohn turned to Jessica – she merely shrugged. Sighing, he cast a glance back the way they had come. He hesitated like that for a second, then, without another word, he took off once again down the tunnel. Vincent and Jessica followed close behind.\n\n* * * * * *\n\nThey had reached a narrow, cement-walled tube, the front of which was furnished with a rusted metal ladder.\n\n\"The transports are just outside,\" said John. \"I'll climb up first.\"\n\nWithout another word, he started up the ladder, scaling the thing with ease. Vincent and Jessica followed more slowly behind him. When they breached the tube and emerged into the sunlight, they were in the middle of a street. It reminded Vincent of the scene from Mr. Watts's morning sim – barren and dusted over with the remnants of crumbled buildings, vehicles overturned and deserted.\n\n\"Right over here,\" said John. He stared toward a pile of rubble at the curb. \"Washing isn't far, but we'll have to hurry if we want to get back for the congregation tonight.\"\n\nWhen they got to the rubble, John reached over the nearest boulder like he was trying to flip it. Instead, he stripped the thing of its fabric disguise and exposed one of the military-looking transports beneath. He pressed a button on the door and the ramp extended.\n\n\"After you,\" he said, and they climbed in.\n\nSeconds later they were flying far faster than Vincent had ever gone. The outside was a blur of gray and black as they passed over the city, then dull and brown as they reached the lifeless terrain beyond. It took them well over a minute to reach what seemed like their top speed, and only then did Vincent's back come unglued from his seat. He stared out the window in awe. John grinned.\n\n\"Newsight doesn't have _all_ the engineers,\" he said proudly. \"Just most.\"\n\nThey continued like that for a few seconds, the blur out the windows, the thundering of the wind on the pod.\n\n\"Your mother is an engineer,\" said Jessica. \"Isn't she?\"\n\nJohn propped his head up from the glass. \"She was the last time I talked to her.\"\n\n\"When was that?\" asked Vincent.\n\n\"Recently, but we only talk about the Order. She doesn't tell me anything else. Not even about Brian.\"\n\nVincent bit down on his tongue. Lynn, apparently, had been avoiding the news as well.\n\n\"So she _is_ in the Order?\" said Jessica, shifting the subject.\n\n\"Of course she is. She helped build it.\"\n\n\"And what about your father?\"\n\n\"I wouldn't know.\" John turned back to the window. \"He started travelling before I was born. He's a lobbyist. Or was – I don't know if he's still alive. But Newsight consumed him like they do everyone. I've always thought that's why my mom sought out the Order: to get back at him for leaving. But then _she_ started leaving more, too.\"\n\n\"How old were you?\" asked Jessica.\n\nJohn thought for a moment, eyes on the dreary landscape outside. \"Seven. She was hardly around after that. I was the one who got Brian ready for school in the mornings, made him dinner at night, everything.\"\n\nJessica watched him closely, posture so delicate, so careful she may have been floating an inch off her seat. \"So you left.\"\n\nJohn gave a hollow laugh. \"It must run in the family. I was only 11 when I stole our transport and found Jack and Abby.\" He smiled at the thought, in a way he never had when talking about his mother. \"That was before the Hole was even close to finished, but they still introduced me to Kendra and the rest of the protestors, and I became a part of the movement. I might have still been with them had Goodwin not found me.\"\n\n\"How did he find you?\" asked Vincent.\n\n\"I expect my mother told him. She knew where I was, somehow, and it would be just like her to send someone else after her own kid.\" He let out a puff of air, shaking his head. \"But it was better that way. Goodwin told me the truth about the world, and he let me do something about it. He told me about his idea to infiltrate Newsight and go after the prints. I felt guilty leaving Jack and Abby, but I knew I had to help. I think even then I knew the Lenses wouldn't always be temporary. I think I was still looking out for Brian, making sure he had a way out when the day came. Now it's finally time to go back for him.\"\n\nJessica fidgeted in her seat but said nothing. Seeing her silence would endure, Vincent considered prompting her only to fall silent himself, thinking, as she must be, that there could be no worse time to laden John with news of his brother than now, so soon before his reunion with Jack and Abigail. John, though far less tense, seemed equally averse to conversation, and they reached the outskirts of Washing before any of them spoke again.\n\n\"When were the pamphlets dropped?\" asked John.\n\n\"About a week ago,\" said Jessica. \"The attack happened the day we left.\"\n\nVincent felt a gnawing sense of dread when he saw the absolute flatness of the place. He had known it would be destroyed, but that didn't soften the blow. The city without Lenses now lay in ruins.\n\nThey flew another mile or so before the parking garage came into view. The upper stories had been completely torn off, but the base – the important part – appeared intact.\n\n\"That's it?\" said John. Vincent and Jessica both nodded.\n\nHe set them down on the street, grinning with apparent excitement, and led them from the pod. He pointed to the vehicle-sized opening in the garage's crumbling side. \"Through there?\"\n\n\"I think so,\" said Vincent.\n\nJohn started forward, a spring in his step Vincent hadn't seen in the tunnels.\n\n\"Do you think we'll be able to get in?\" whispered Jessica. \"The entrance may have collapsed.\"\n\nVincent glanced at the corner of the garage that housed the stairwell. The walls were rubble, but a skeleton of the place remained. \"It looks fine to me.\"\n\nStill looking skeptical, Jessica stayed silent as they crossed the debris-strewn street. They didn't speak again until they were inside.\n\n\"They had only just started to work on it before I left,\" said John, slowing his pace. \"But Kendra said they were building supports. I'm not surprised the thing is still standing.\"\n\nHe looked around them as they walked. The echoes of their footsteps followed him like a shadow, consuming his voice, muting it as soon as it left his lips.\n\n\"Which way?\" he asked.\n\nVincent pointed to the stairwell. Nodding, John started for it. Jessica drew a bit closer to Vincent as they followed. Vincent could hear her breathing: shallow, quiet, as if not wanting to disturb the fragile air around them. By the time they had gone down the first few steps, the breathing was all Vincent could hear. It was growing shallower.\n\nJohn reached the bottom landing a flight ahead of them, and when they rounded the final corner to catch up, the breathing stopped – the door to the Hole was ajar. There were no piercing bright lights to greet their entry this time. No warning voice calling out from inside.\n\n\"Is this it?\" pressed John.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Vincent.\n\nJohn hesitated there at the door, eyes locked on the sliding metal slit at eye level, and after a pause he pushed it open. The putrid stench that resulted brought bile to the back of Vincent's throat, a squirming discomfort to his stomach. He had half a mind to turn back, but John had already started forward, leaving them to follow at a distance. The breathing resumed with even longer pauses between inhales, longer pauses between drinks of the foul-tasting air.\n\nMost of the fluorescent lights from the ceiling lay shattered on the ground. The rest cast their feeble beams on utter stillness. John and Vincent and Jessica stood at the mouth of the stairwell, unmoving, gripped by the total silence of the place, transfixed by the half-shadowed mounds in the shapes of bodies, filled with the odd hope that some would rise up and greet them, shocked into numb observation by the crimson streaks on the pavement.\n\nThe breathing began to quicken once more, coming in short bursts as the stunned, realizing breaths that preceded tears. Vincent felt his shoulders shake in time with the ragged inhales – the breaths were coming from his own lips now.\n\nJessica turned away, face pulled into a look of sour disgust. John remained where he stood, not turning at the neck, but seeming to take in the entire scene all the same. After several seconds, he spoke.\n\n\"Let's go.\"\n\nHe turned around and started for the stairs, bumping Vincent's shoulder as he passed.\n\n* * * * * *\n\nThe transport descended to its disguised spot in the rubble, and John, Vincent, and Jessica exited to the street. The three of them crept without a word through the silken shadows of the night, slid down the rusted metal ladder of the sewer, and continued along in the dark.\n\n\"We can still make the second half of the meeting,\" said John. His voice sounded detached. His eyes were still glazed over, his posture slumped.\n\n\"John maybe you should rest,\" said Jessica. \"If you show us where to go, we can fill you in tomorrow.\"\n\nJohn shook his head and kept walking. \"I'm going.\"\n\nJessica sighed and started after him with Vincent.\n\nThe tunnel ended at a solid wooden door. They approached it in silence, hearing nothing but their own breath and the splash of their own steps, but when they entered, the silence gave way to thunderous cheering. A horde of several hundred people stood clapping and yelling inside a great cavern. Goodwin preached to them from a circular stone stage, his face alight with passion, his sockets as dead black as the gaping sewer pipes at the room's edge.\n\nThere were men around him on the stage, as well, three at his front and three at his back, staring out at the crowd with steely eyes.\n\n\"Who are they?!\" Vincent had to shout to be heard.\n\n\"Goodwin's Officers!\" John shouted back.\n\nVincent looked again at the circle of men surrounding Goodwin. The man had replaced his own eyes with a dozen others.\n\n\"Quiet! Quiet!\" Goodwin called out to them, motioning for silence. Vincent had to read the man's lips to discern the words – the cheers were deafening.\n\n\"Quiet!\" he called again, and his voice was actually audible this time. \"Please, quiet.\"\n\nHe waited for the remaining applause and whistles to die down before continuing.\n\n\"We have been waiting. But we will wait no more.\"\n\nMore applause, more whistles – the place seemed already prepared to burst again, and the feeling was contagious. The skin of Vincent's face had begun to itch with a needling heat.\n\nGoodwin raised his hands once more. \"You would charge headlong into every city and every Seclusion armed with only your bare fists. But I will not ask that of you.\"\n\nA moan of disappointment rose up from the crowd. Most of them looked frenzied, their muscles tensed, their eyes wild and bloodshot.\n\n\"We must be calculating,\" continued Goodwin. \"Our chance to strike will come only once. We cannot waste it on ill-timed acts of blind rage and carnage.\"\n\nThe words may have calmed a normal crowd, but this one had already been pushed to the brink of a mob. Goodwin's calm demeanor only seemed to inflame them.\n\n\"There is no giant switch,\" he continued. \"No trigger that kills the Newsight network. But there _are_ switches. There _are_ triggers that if pulled will fire fatal bullets at the Newsight beast.\"\n\nGoodwin paused. Even in the cavern, even over the constant seething shouts of the crowd, the echo of his words seemed to hang in the air.\n\n\"For each city,\" he continued, \"there is one such switch. One such trigger. And one by one, we will pull them all.\"\n\nThe crowd erupted once again. The young and old called out in chorus, shouting indiscernible words as a single, resounding roar. The needle pricks under Vincent's skin grew hotter.\n\nGoodwin held up his hands. Slowly, the crowd quieted.\n\n\"Before this, however, we must arm ourselves. We must strengthen our numbers with the oppressed. We must cripple the Newsight Seclusion to render a counterattack impossible.\"\n\nThe crowd cheered again, and Vincent found himself joining in this time.\n\n\"We begin with arms,\" called Goodwin. He made a flourish with his hand, a signal of sorts, and the wall at his back lit up with a giant projection. It was an aerial map with Hux was near the center, Washing to the northwest, a dome-shaped structure to the east, unfamiliar cities to the south, and the Newsight Seclusion to the north.\n\n\"Our first mark is the Newsight defense factory due east.\" Goodwin pointed to the domed structure on the map with surprising accuracy. \"We will overtake it, and we will increase our arsenal by tenfold.\"\n\nAnother roar. A man in front of Vincent yelled so fiercely his neck veins bulged from the effort.\n\n\"With these arms,\" continued Goodwin, \"we will launch a direct attack on the Seclusion.\" He pointed flawlessly once again. The cheering began to rise. \"We will rescue their prisoners, we will destroy their factories –\" he had to shout to be heard – \"we will bring Newsight to its knees!\"\n\nThe man ahead beat his breast as he howled. Spittle flew from his lips and speckled his animal-like teeth.\n\nJohn's yells grew crazed and growling. Jessica's screeched with a murderous shrill.\n\n\"We attack at first light!\" shouted Goodwin. His voice was barely intelligible over the roar. \"We attack at first light!\"\n\nThe man in front of Vincent shook his head so violently Vincent thought his neck would snap.\n\n\"Now!\" he called out. \"Do it now!\"\n\nThe rest of the crowd took up similar calls. They surged in on Goodwin and flung their fists in protest, not chanting, not having the presence of mind to chant nor any presence of mind at all, merely screaming a guttural, uncontained torrent of noise. Vincent screamed along with them, pressed deeper into the crowd by those around him, pressed into the mob as another suit of flesh, swaying and flailing his arms in time with his neighbors.\n\n\"Quiet! Quiet!\" Goodwin mouthed the words, though he may have shouted them – Vincent couldn't tell. \"Quiet!\"\n\nIt was several seconds before the noise lowered to a level over which Goodwin could speak. The crowd had collectively leaned forward, their jaws jutted out, primal, daring Goodwin to deny them. The man with no eyes merely grinned.\n\n\"If you cannot wait...\" There were shouts and curses of affirmation. Goodwin paused. \"Then we attack tonight.\"\n\nVincent's eardrums might have gone deaf for the explosion of sound that followed. More beating of chests, beating of one's neighbors' chests, clawing of skin in grim satisfaction. The man in front of Vincent staggered where he stood, leaning on those around him for support, near the brink of passing out from exertion. And still, he yelled.\n\n\"Captains gather your men!\" Goodwin called. \"We attack tonight!\"\n\nAnother eruption. Vincent joined in. He felt his head growing light and dazed from the effort. He saw the writhing bodies around him as if through a red haze.\n\nThen he was next to John again and they were starting for the door. The other boy cleaved their way through the crowd, the flesh of his face still inflamed and hot, and Vincent knew without a doubt he was thinking about the Hole.\nChapter 18 – The Dome\n\nThey flew in the usual six-seat transport. John sat at the window across from Vincent and Jessica, and three others – two men and one woman, none of whom Vincent had seen before – filled the remaining seats. It had been several minutes since Goodwin's fiery speech in the tunnels, but their faces remained red, their pulses rapid.\n\n\"Do we have a plan?\" asked Jessica. Out of them all, she seemed to have recovered the most fully.\n\n\"We do,\" said John. \"This isn't on impulse. Goodwin knew they would be worked up after his speech. He never planned to attack in the morning.\"\n\n\"So what are we supposed to do?\" asked Vincent. \"Are we bombing them?\"\n\nJohn shook his head. \"The factory is too valuable to damage. We'll go in on foot. Take the place by force.\"\n\nVincent glanced at the three others with them in the pod. None of them were armed. \"Will we be given weapons?\"\n\n\"Some will. But most won't need them. The factory isn't heavily armed once we get inside. It's getting in that required planning.\"\n\n\"Is that our job?\" asked Jessica. \"Getting in?\"\n\n\"Goodwin's,\" said John. \"His officers have been watching the patterns of the place for weeks. Every night, the dome receives a truckload of supplies. Goodwin will be on that truck with the rest of his officers, and once they're in, they can open the gate for the rest of us.\"\n\nVincent looked out the window at the fleet of transports flying close by, all tightly packed together, all very close to the ground. \"How will they do that?\"\n\n\"THE SIM has everything they need,\" said John. \"Leave that to them. Our job is to secure the facility once a path has been cleared for entry. Afterward, we can begin assembling our force for the Seclusion raid.\"\n\n\"So we aren't going back to the tunnels?\" asked Jessica, sounding hopeful.\n\n\"Not right away. We'll have to move quickly once we take the factory. Word will reach Newsight whether we want it to or not, and our window to attack the Seclusion will be slim. We can't afford a return trip.\"\n\nVincent nodded. He was sure he didn't understand the larger plan at play, but he _did_ understand the nearness of their return to the Seclusion. This return no longer seemed so important, though. After all, there was no one there waiting for him.\n\nJohn didn't explain any more of the plan, and Vincent and Jessica didn't ask any more questions. The three others seemed already to know, or simply not to care.\n\nThe transport began to slow in time with its twins alongside, ahead, and behind. In the distance, through the front window, Vincent could see an enormous lump rising out of the night, a blemish on an otherwise smooth, barren plain.\n\n\"The factory dome is straight ahead,\" said John. \"Goodwin and his team are already in place.\"\n\nVincent peered through the darkness at the dome's base. At the front gate was what looked like a large, box-shaped truck.\n\n\"I can't see,\" said Jessica.\n\nJohn handed her a slender set of binoculars. She held them to her eyes without breaking gaze from the dome.\n\n\"Men in uniform are talking to the driver,\" she said. \"They're... they're waving him in.\"\n\nJohn's eyes were out of focus. He was staring at a patch of ground between Vincent's feet.\n\n\"It looks like the gate is opening,\" said Jessica. \"The truck is driving through. But... it's closing. The gate is closing after it.\" She lowered the binoculars and turned to John. \"Is it supposed to do that?\"\n\n\"For now.\" John's eyes returned to normal. \"Goodwin is inside. All we have to do is wait for his signal.\"\n\nNodding, and this time without the aid of the magnifying tubes, Jessica turned back to the dome. Vincent followed suit. Even from a distance he could tell the thing was giant. The school dome from the Seclusion would have fit inside several times over.\n\n\"Get ready,\" said John. His eyes were absent again. \"They're on their way to the gate.\"\n\nVincent's fingers began to tremble. As if from a switch, the energy that had filled him during Goodwin's speech in the cavern began to fill him once again, just trickling now, but with a force of an entire current behind it, waiting.\n\n\"Almost,\" said John, his eyes still unfocused. \"Almost...\"\n\nThere was silence. The others had shifted to the front of their seats...\n\n\"Now.\"\n\nThe pod shot forward and threw Vincent against the wall. The men next to John caught themselves on the glass just before they went hurtling into the woman across from them. Not one of the three flinched – they seemed gripped with the same, grim concentration as Vincent.\n\n\"Give me the binoculars.\" John took the set of tubes from Jessica and twisted in his seat to see the dome. \"It's opening,\" he said, excitement beginning to enter his voice. \"We're going in.\"\n\nVincent could already see the entrance opening up to receive them. The transport careened toward it, still in perfect form with the rest of the fleet.\n\nJohn pulled a pistol from his jacket. \"Prepare to de-board.\"\n\nVincent remembered Hole: the stench, the sheet metal houses and bodies peppered with bullet holes, the blood and dust on the cement.\n\nHis face began to tingle with heat. He felt the trickle begin to grow, gushing now as it heated his skin and clenched his hands into fists.\n\n\"Slowing!\" John shouted even though the pod was mostly silent. He seemed ready to throw himself out the window just to get there faster.\n\nThe dome raced toward them less rapidly now, but it was larger than ever. Untarnished all the way around, it reflected in the fluorescent beams of the lights below, the perfect, detestable hue of Newsight.\n\n\"Go!\"\n\nJohn shouted as soon as the pod touched the ground. He sprang from his seat and dragged Vincent into the horde, more frenzied than ever as they sprinted for the entrance. They pushed and shoved their way inside, and on white tile, they ran. On open ground lined with wire-topped fences, along gray stone buildings with steel vents and black smokestacks, they ran. Vincent let himself be washed onward by the wave, feeling for a fraction of a second he was back in the working sector of Hux, in the industrial part swimming through smog. He was swept forward by the pounding legs around him to the first of the dome's fenced-in buildings. He was sprinting at gray-clad men on the shop floor, tearing at their clothes, dragging them across the tile. Somewhere behind him he heard a loud pop. Some of the red-faced men and women carried guns. Vincent needed only his hands. They were clubs now, and they swung at every patch of gray cloth they could find.\n\nThe men and women in gray began to flee before him. He narrowed his blurred gaze on the woman nearest. Her stride was laden with a slight limp, almost comical the way her left side drooped and dragged in a vain effort to keep up with her right. Vincent tore after her, spurred faster by the geyser of hot energy gushing inside him. He spun the woman around. He raised his fist. He flexed his chest with his knuckles pulled tight–\n\nHe stopped where he was. The blur in his vision had cleared just enough to see the woman up close. Her gray Privacy Officer jumpsuit was unmistakable, but so too was her wide, heart-shaped face. Vincent had seen that face before, had talked to it. It wasn't a gray blur like the rest. It was real, here and afraid.\n\nVincent dropped his hand to his side, and the woman took off running once again. He started back the way he had come, his fists still clenched, his vision fading in and out of focus. He staggered through the first door he found and bolted the lock.\n\nWith the screams outside now muffled, he could hear the rasp of his own breaths. He began to shake as he crossed over to the sink. His eyes were lined and red, his Lenses wet with a liquid not his own.\n\nHe leaned forward at the waist, bracing his weight on the sink and gripping its sides with white knuckles. He wanted to go back out. He wanted to swing madly at everything that moved, to hunt the gray-clad men with the rest, to find his revenge for the stayers who lived in the Hole. The desire was overpowering, irrational with the force it urged him out the door, almost irresistible. But then he thought of the woman, and with her image seared into his mind, with his face still ablaze and his blood still beating through him with fierce throbs, he stayed where he was, and he listened to the screams.\n\n* * * * * *\n\nVincent awoke under the sheets of a body-width mattress. His pulse had steadied. The screams had long since faded. There was silence, and the trickle in him that had risen to a torrent was now dry.\n\nHe sat up. On either side of him beds were stacked in bunks, filling the room from end to end. The men and women in them, in their freshly cleaned white jumpsuits, were beginning to stir. Vincent looked down at himself. His clothes had been changed and cleaned as well.\n\nHe rose from the bed and started for the exit, surprised to feel his legs rather steady beneath him. When he was outside, he found himself sandwiched in between two buildings, and nearly at the dome's edge. Deeper into the dome was his only option. He walked until the buildings on either side of him opened up into a space more familiar: the outer circle of dark, block-shaped factories. He turned around. Behind him was a series of long, rectangular buildings only one story high, none with windows and all with their shorter ends facing the center of the dome. For as far as Vincent could see, the buildings continued one after another around the dome's perimeter, each, presumably, housing the same sort of barracks he had awoken in.\n\nHe continued forward between the factories straight ahead. The air was cooler here, the buildings acting like a tunnel for the wind. As he walked, he shrank into the clothes that had been given to him, his head bent against the chill. He looked up only when the tunnel had opened and the barracks were barely visible at his back. He had walked into a courtyard, a wide circular region in the dome's very center, around which the factories – four others in addition to the two he was between – stood as sentries. The circle was oddly empty, no structure or markings to indicate it, only empty ground.\n\nVincent started around the edge of the space to the mouth of the factory next to him. It looked identical to all the others: several stories high, square and plain, and with only a handful of windows to let in the artificial light. It was too dim to make out, but atop the building's entrance, there seemed to be an inscription. Even in clear light Vincent doubted he could have read it – the words appeared to have been painted over.\n\n\"Good morning, Vincent.\"\n\nJohn and a group of Goodwin's officers came into view as Vincent rounded the corner. John excused himself and broke off, crossing over to him.\n\n\"Did you just wake up?\"\n\nVincent nodded. \"But I don't remember going to bed.\" He glanced up at the factory. \"What happened last night?\"\n\nJohn motioned to the dome at large, as if that explained things. \"We did it,\" he said. \"We overran them. The whole place is ours.\"\n\nHe said it proudly, but Vincent could hear a bit of confusion in his voice as well.\n\n\"What about this?\" asked Vincent, looking down at his jumpsuit. \"I don't remember changing.\"\n\nJohn shrugged, wearing a slight frown. \"I'm not really sure. Goodwin must have had one of the other captains organize a cleaning effort.\" He flicked his head in the direction of Goodwin's officers. \"We're preparing the plans for the Seclusion attack. Care to sit in?\"\n\nVincent looked over at the group. They had stopped their conversation – their gazes were trained on him. \"I'm all right.\" He turned back to John. \"Where's Jessica?\"\n\nJohn looked around, as if scanning for her. \"I just saw her. She slept in the factory with some of the others.\"\n\nVincent raised an eyebrow. \"She slept in the factory?\"\n\nJohn shrugged once again and glanced back at Goodwin's officers. \"I should get back. Try this factory first.\" He patted Vincent on the arm, then returned to the group. Pausing for a moment, Vincent started for the doors they had crammed through the night before and entered the factory. Immense, industrial-grade conveyers split the place in half, every few feet laden with man-sized missiles. The factory floor was as clean as Vincent's white jumpsuit. Not a trace remained of what had transpired the evening before.\n\n\"Vincent?\"\n\nHe turned around. Among several others, Jessica was seated against the wall some ways off. She looked like she had just woken up.\n\n\"I was about to come looking for you,\" she said.\n\nVincent walked over to her. She didn't stand to greet him. Instead, she laid her head back against the wall behind her.\n\n\"Are you ok?\" asked Vincent.\n\nJessica nodded, but as she looked around she wore the same troubled expression John had. A feeling of unease began to settle deep in Vincent's stomach. He scanned the others along the wall. Several of them were beginning to wake. \"Let's go somewhere.\" He reached down and took her by the hand. She felt like deadweight as he pulled her up.\n\n\"I'm tired,\" she said. \"Why can't we stay here?\"\n\n\"Just trust me.\"\n\nHe pulled her to a door several yards away and led them inside. At the latching of the bolt, her grogginess seemed to clear.\n\n\"Vincent what's wrong? Did something happen?\"\n\n\"I think so. I don't know.\" He stopped and glanced at the door to make sure it was closed. \"Do you remember any of last night?\"\n\n\"I remember the transport,\" said Jessica. \"I remember running in with everyone else. Other than that I just remember feeling angry.\" She paused, frowning. \"I don't remember going to sleep.\"\n\n\"Neither do I.\" Vincent looked around to make sure they were alone. \"I remember some things, though. I remember attacking the Privacy Officers.\" He hesitated, focusing on the memory, determined not to let it slip away. \"But some of the people from last night, some of the officers... they seemed different. They seemed afraid.\"\n\nJessica squinted at him. \"I don't remember that.\"\n\nVincent took a deep breath. He hadn't wanted to say anything about this – he knew what she would say back to him – but he didn't have a choice now.\n\n\"I recognized one of them,\" he said. \"A woman. She looked like Jim's wife, Jim from Hux. I can't remember her name.\"\n\n\"Tina?\"\n\nVincent nodded. The name hit him with the force of memory. Real, concrete memory.\n\n\"But why would she be in a Newsight factory?\" asked Jessica. \"Jim said she was in quarantine.\"\n\n\"I know. I don't know why she would be here, either, but she was. I'm sure of it.\" He said it firmly, as if to convince himself as well as Jessica.\n\nJessica frowned, looking unconvinced. \"If there were people here that weren't Privacy Officers, then why would we have attacked? Why would we not have rescued them?\"\n\nVincent started to speak, then breathed out instead. \"I don't know. I just think we should be careful. Something about this just...\"\n\nHe trailed off when the noise of hoarse, measured breath arose from his Lenses.\n\n\"Fellow brothers and sisters of the Order.\"\n\nIt was Goodwin's voice, and it was inside Vincent's head as if played through a simulation. By the look of confusion on Jessica's face, he could tell she heard it too.\n\n\"You will assemble in the center of the dome,\" said Goodwin. \"Now.\"\n\nWith that the voice went silent, and before either of them could speak again, the door slid open.\n\n\"Hello.\" A man – Vincent recognized him to be one of Goodwin's officers – stepped through. \"We are rounding people up,\" he said, in a hard, iron voice. \"Everyone is meeting in the courtyard.\"\n\nJessica nodded and started forward, but Vincent stayed where he was.\n\n\"Is there a problem?\" the man asked.\n\n\"How did you know we were here?\" asked Vincent.\n\n\"Vincent come on,\" said Jessica. \"He's just trying to help.\"\n\n\"How did you know?\" repeated Vincent.\n\n\"Someone saw you go this way.\" The man's tone was level, just shy of robotic. \"Is there something wrong?\"\n\nVincent held the man's gaze a moment longer. \"No, sir.\"\n\n\"Good.\" The man motioned them to the door, and when they exited, he peeled off in the opposite direction.\n\n\"What are you doing?\" hissed Jessica. \"Are you trying to get us in trouble?\"\n\nVincent glanced back at the man. \"He wasn't here when we went into the hall. And no one else saw us.\"\n\nJessica shook her head, exasperated. \"You're being ridiculous, Vincent. Come on.\"\n\nShe pulled him forward, and by the time they reached the eerily open space in the dome's center, most of the others were already there.\n\n\"Brothers and sisters!\"\n\nGoodwin's voice rang out from somewhere in the circle's center. Vincent craned his neck, and he saw the man climbing up on some sort of stool.\n\n\"Brothers and sisters,\" he repeated. \"We have claimed the Newsight factory.\"\n\nThere was a cheer of approval, but the fierceness of the night before was nowhere present.\n\n\"As we speak,\" Goodwin continued, \"our engineers are preparing the fighters for attack. We will fly on the Seclusion at dusk.\"\n\nAnother cheer. This one was a bit louder, but there was no beating of chests, no veins protruding from necks.\n\n\"However,\" said Goodwin, \"there is first the issue of last night's attack.\"\n\nVincent's ears perked up.\n\n\"It has been reported that many of you are suffering from a mild form of amnesia.\"\n\nAround them, various heads began to nod.\n\n\"This is no cause for alarm,\" said Goodwin. \"I have consulted our brothers and sisters who spent time in the enemy camp, in the Newsight Corporation, and it is their belief that this memory obstruction was caused by the Lenses.\"\n\nA murmur coursed through the crowd, an affirming one, as if they had already known. Vincent continued to stare forward, frowning.\n\n\"It was a reaction to our darkeners,\" said Goodwin. \"Trauma seems to be the triggering action. And last night, though victorious, was surely traumatic.\"\n\nGoodwin's tone was somber and his head was tilted downward, as if looking out at them through imaginary eyes, overtop imaginary spectacles.\n\n\"There will be more of this trauma at dusk in the Seclusion. It is imperative, however, that you remember this attack, for it is one you will tell your children about, and they their children.\"\n\nAnother murmur of approval – still no wild yells and applause.\n\n\"For this reason, our Newsight knowledgeable colleagues have been working without rest to determine a fix for this problem, and that is exactly what they have done. For those of you who experienced an impairment to your memory, please follow my officers to the facility we have erected in factory six. There, your Lenses can receive what little maintenance they require.\"\n\nHe nodded to them, then stepped down off his riser. The crowd began to funnel itself in the direction he had pointed. Vincent stayed where he was.\n\n\"Jessica.\"\n\nShe looked over her shoulder. She had already started forward with the crowd. \"Aren't you coming?\" she asked.\n\n\"No. And I don't think you should either.\"\n\nJessica stopped. People jostled by her to get around. \"Why not? You were just talking about this.\"\n\n\"I know, but didn't you hear him? He said they're going to do maintenance.\"\n\nJessica rolled her eyes, sighing. \"He obviously didn't mean that kind. Don't you want to remember tonight?\"\n\nVincent looked toward the center where Goodwin had just disappeared. \"I'm going to stay. I can't make you, but I really think you should do the same.\"\n\nJessica hesitated, her eyes scanning the crowd of men and women walking by them. \"I can't,\" she said after a pause. \"I want to remember seeing my dad again.\" She gave a weak, sympathizing look, then let herself be swept away by the mob.\n\nVincent watched her go, gripped, all of a sudden, with the sensation of being watched himself. Near the center, where Goodwin had just been, the man who had found them in the hallway was standing with the rest of Goodwin's officers, and his eyes were on Vincent. Vincent felt a chill shoot down his spine. He looked away from the man, then started, after the crowd, toward factory six.\n\n* * * * * *\n\nWhen he judged he had waited long enough, Vincent stepped out of his hiding place in the factory restroom. The factory floor, which earlier had been lined with tables set up for maintenance, was empty.\n\n\"You there.\"\n\nIt was the same iron voice they had heard in the hallway.\n\n\"Have your Lenses been fixed?\"\n\nVincent turned around. \"Yes, sir,\" he lied.\n\n\"Are you certain?\"\n\n\"If I'm remembering correctly.\"\n\nThe man scowled at him. He was about to speak when a second voice sounded behind them.\n\n\"Vincent!\"\n\nVincent turned around to see John.\n\n\"We've been looking for you,\" said John. \"Goodwin needs us. It's about the Seclusion attack.\"\n\n\"He needs to have his Lenses fixed first,\" said the man with the iron voice.\n\n\"I already have,\" said Vincent, firmer this time. He turned to John. \"Let's go.\"\n\nBefore the man could stop them, Vincent led them away.\n\n\"Everything all right?\" asked John, catching up.\n\nVincent began to answer but stopped before forming the words. They had reached the other side of the factory's enormous machine, and Goodwin was there waiting with Jessica.\n\n\"There you are,\" he said. \"John, can you find us a room?\"\n\nJohn turned his gaze from Vincent, and any hint of a frown was gone in an instant. \"Of course.\" He scanned the perimeter of the factory, and spotted a promising, large-windowed room not far off. He led them to it, then inside. They settled into rigid-backed chairs around a long, rectangular table.\n\n\"THE SIMULATION has given us all the data and knowledge we could expect,\" said Goodwin, \"but it has given nothing of the Newsight Seclusion. Of all our brothers and sisters in the Order, only you three have the necessary navigational knowledge. Are you willing to share it?\"\n\n\"Yes.\" John and Jessica spoke the word at the same time.\n\n\"Yes.\" Vincent said it a beat behind.\n\n\"Very good,\" said Goodwin. \"The Seclusion is protected by Newsight's most advanced air defense network. Our transports and fighter planes are incapable of penetrating it, and so it must be shut down. This will be your job.\"\n\nJohn and Jessica nodded in unison, unflinching. Vincent only watched.\n\n\"You will be smuggled into the Seclusion, and you will infiltrate the Newsight campus and disable the network.\"\n\nJessica leaned forward in her seat. \"Will my dad be in the Newsight campus?\"\n\n\"I believe all the prisoners will be,\" said Goodwin. \"And after the network is disabled, you will be able to save them. But you first have to trust the larger plan.\" His sightless gaze lingered on Vincent here. Vincent stared steadily back.\n\n\"When do we leave?\" asked John.\n\n\"This evening,\" said Goodwin, turning to him. \"You will arrive by ground transport to avoid being detected by the Newsight satellites.\"\n\nJohn nodded. He shifted slightly in his seat, seeming anxious.\n\n\"You will receive further instruction once inside,\" continued Goodwin. \"We will be with you. From above. From our few sources within the Seclusion.\" He turned the charred, cratered holes in his head once again to Vincent. \"We will be watching.\"\nChapter 19 – Holding\n\nFor the past several hours the three of them had been in a transport, concealed in a compartment under the backseat. In a separate vehicle ahead, Goodwin's officers towed them like cargo.\n\nVincent had uttered only a handful of words to Jessica since that morning, and she even fewer back to him. Now, nearly sundown as they neared the outer bounds of the Seclusion, talking was prohibited. Not until they were through the gate without detection, Goodwin said, would their plan be revealed.\n\nThe transport began to slow.\n\nApproaching.\n\nThe word scrolled across Vincent's Lenses, and he went still. Next to him, John and Jessica did the same.\n\nThere was silence for a beat as their convoy eased to a stop, then footsteps. Someone outside started to speak.\n\n\"Good evening, gentlemen. May I see your permit?\"\n\nVincent played the scene out in his mind. Goodwin's officers gave a curt nod. They handed over the fabricated paperwork.\n\n\"That looks in order,\" said the Guard. \"What is your delivery?\"\n\nVincent thought he could feel the man's gaze turning toward them through the window.\n\n\"A transport,\" said the driver. \"For Newsight.\"\n\nThere was another pause. Vincent's feeling of being watched intensified.\n\n\"Of course. Please allow me a few minutes to search your vehicle.\"\n\nNext to Vincent, Jessica drew in a sharp breath. Goodwin had said they wouldn't be searched.\n\n\"Yes, sir,\" said their driver. \"But would you mind waiting for my escort? That should be her just ahead.\"\n\nVincent turned to John. This wasn't part of the plan. They hadn't been told about an escort.\n\nVincent mouthed a question, but John only shrugged in response.\n\n\"I suppose so,\" said the Guard. \"Who is your—\"\n\n\"Excuse me?\"\n\nA sharp, familiar voice sounded from outside. It seemed to shoot through John like an electric current. His whole body tensed in a single movement.\n\n\"Is there a particular reason you are detaining my transport?\" asked Lynn.\n\n\"Just protocol, ma'am,\" said the Guard. Vincent could hear the tightness in every syllable. The man had snapped to attention.\n\n\"Well I don't have time for protocol. Do you have any idea how much I paid for this?\"\n\nThe Guard was silent.\n\n\"I didn't think so. Now, are you going to let them through or not?\"\n\nThere was another pause. Vincent felt the Guard's gaze on them through the window.\n\n\"Yes, ma'am. My apologies.\"\n\nThere was an indiscernible response from Lynn, then the retreating click of her heels on the path. Their own transport began to move once again.\n\n\"Did you know she was coming?\" hissed John.\n\nVincent shook his head. \"No idea,\" he said truthfully. Jessica said the same.\n\nJohn sighed, looking down. \"Goodwin didn't want me to back out. I should have known we would need someone on the inside to let us in.\"\n\nVincent hadn't given it any thought. The only other time he had come near the boundary of the Seclusion had been with Jessica on their way out. Then, the way had been prepared for them.\n\n\"Did you hear anyone else?\" asked John. \"Anyone with her?\"\n\nVincent knew he was thinking of Brian. Jessica seemed to sense the same. She took a deep breath. \"John there's something you should—\"\n\nJohn held up a hand for quiet. His eyes were out of focus. Vincent could see it, too. On the bottom of their Lenses, one of Goodwin's officers had sent them a message.\n\nStay quiet. We are being followed.\n\nJessica was persistent. \"John you need to hear what—\"\n\n\"You saw the message,\" said John. \"Not now.\"\n\n\"But it's important it's about—\"\n\n\"I said not now.\"\n\nJohn glowered at her for a few seconds, then perked his ears for any sign they had been heard. When he was satisfied, he turned back to the front. Jessica looked to Vincent but Vincent only shrugged back, helpless. John refused to look at either of them. No one budged until the transport came to a stop minutes later, and the man with the iron voice opened their hidden compartment.\n\n\"We are in the first ring,\" he said. \"Management sector.\"\n\nVincent had a feeling he knew exactly where they were.\n\n\"John?\"\n\nIt was Lynn. She was standing just outside in the driveway of her dome.\n\n\"You've grown.\" Her voice wavered slightly. It no longer seemed as detached as it had been with Brian. Although, Vincent reminded himself, that exchange had taken place under the careful watch of Marcus.\n\nJohn rose from his cramped position and climbed from the pod. His mother reached out to embrace him, but he made no move toward her. He looked around instead. \"Where's Brian?\"\n\nThe air around them grew suddenly tense. No one spoke. Even the officers grew still.\n\n\"Is he inside?\" asked John, turning to the dome. \"I want to see him.\" He started for the door, but Lynn caught his wrist. John looked back at her. His shoulders were rising and falling a bit quicker now.\n\n\"He's not here, John,\" said Lynn.\n\nJohn looked at the officers, then back at the door, as if expecting Brian to come bursting through at any second. \"Where is he?\"\n\nLynn started to speak, then stopped. She looked down.\n\n\"Where is he?\" repeated John. His voice was firmer this time. His eyes were on his mother.\n\n\"I thought you would know.\" She turned her gaze on Vincent and Jessica.\n\nJohn didn't seem to notice. He was growing restless, shifting on his feet. \"Know what?\"\n\nLynn turned back to him. Her head was tilted to the side, sympathetic, genuine. Her usual cold mask was nowhere present. \"There was an accident,\" she said. John grew still. \"When Marcus searched our dome, Brian was taken away in a transport with Vincent and Jessica, and there was a collision.\"\n\nJohn continued to stare at his mother. His gaze flitted between her eyes, searching.\n\n\"The other transport hit his side head on,\" continued Lynn. Her voice was tighter now. She had to squeeze the words out one by one. \"He didn't make it.\"\n\nJohn started to shake his head. He pulled his wrist from his mother's grip.\n\n\"I'm sorry,\" said Lynn. She turned to Vincent and Jessica. \"I would have told you, but I thought they already had.\"\n\nJohn turned to face them. His face had a childish look about it, vulnerable and confused. His mask had fallen away the same as his mother's.\n\n\"You knew?\" he asked.\n\nJessica looked down, biting her lip. Vincent forced himself to hold John's gaze.\n\n\"You knew?\" John repeated. He stepped forward as he said it this time, but the man with the iron voice moved in front of him.\n\n\"Enough of this,\" the man said. \"We are on a schedule.\" He turned to Lynn. \"We need to move.\"\n\nLynn kept her gaze on John for a moment before turning to the man. \"Of course. John, we can speak about this at another time.\"\n\nJohn said nothing back. His breathing had yet to ease. His eyes had yet to leave Vincent.\n\n\"There has been a change of plans,\" continued Lynn. \"I will disable the defense network myself. The three of you will handle the prisoners. You will be joining them shortly.\"\n\n\"Joining them?\" said John. He turned from Vincent to look at his mother. \"What does that mean?\"\n\n\"I have to take you in,\" said Lynn. She moved a step closer to him, cautiously. \"It's the only way you'll be able to free them. And it's the only way I'll be allowed into the defense portion of campus. Marcus has been keeping a close watch on me.\"\n\n\"So you're just going to hand us over?\" asked John.\n\n\"With protection.\" She motioned to Goodwin's men. \"The officers will be accompanying you, and when I give them the signal, they will help you escape.\"\n\nJohn continued to stare at his mother. He looked prepared to argue when the officer holding him interjected.\n\n\"We should leave, ma'am,\" he said. \"The attack cannot start until the system is down. Goodwin is waiting.\"\n\nLynn's posture straightened at the mention of the name. \"Very well.\" She turned to Vincent and Jessica. \"You two stay where you are. You'll be with me in the first transport.\" She started forward to their pod. \"John, you'll be in the second.\"\n\nJohn didn't move. As his mother and the officers started for the transports, he stayed where he was. He didn't seem to notice them. He had eyes only for his old dome, and for the stubbornly still surface of its front door.\n\n* * * * * *\n\nStraight ahead was the Newsight campus. In the usual dome shape, the building was completely circular but for the hallway-width offshoots around its perimeter. The offshoots snaked outward in enormous s-curves, sprawling from the body of the place like the arms of an octopus.\n\n\"We'll go through the front,\" said Lynn. She turned back to them. \"Remember your place.\"\n\nVincent knew exactly what she meant, though she couldn't say it aloud for fear of being watched: they were to act like prisoners.\n\n\"Now, let's go.\" She opened her door and climbed out of the pod. Seconds later Vincent was outside as well, the hands of two officers forcing his arms behind his back. He got the feeling there would be no need at all to _act_ like prisoners.\n\nThey started for the main entrance – an arched, open-aired space just ahead – at a pace that nearly forced Vincent into a jog. When he lagged, the men holding him wrenched up his arms higher still. They, apparently, had embraced their roles wholeheartedly.\n\nThey came to a stop in a high-ceilinged lobby, around which were well over a dozen hallway offshoots. Instead of any of these, they approached the front desk in the room's center and were greeted with the usual, dress-wearing receptionist.\n\n\"Ms. Department Head,\" said the woman, seeming surprised. \"I thought you had gone for the day.\"\n\n\"I had,\" said Lynn. \"I would have preferred to stay that way also.\" She glanced back at the group of them. The woman seemed to see the strange party for the first time. \"I need Marcus,\" said Lynn.\n\n\"Of course. I'll page him.\" The woman's eyes went out of focus for a beat. \"He has requested you meet him in holding,\" she said after a pause, eyes still out of focus. \"I've given you access.\"\n\nLynn nodded her thanks, then motioned them toward one of the halls. Vincent felt a twinge in his shoulder as his overzealous captors urged him into motion.\n\nAs they approached, they could see Marcus emerging from a door several yards ahead.\n\n\"You're not usually here so late,\" said Marcus.\n\n\"I'm not usually doing your job.\" Lynn motioned to Vincent and Jessica and John behind her. When Marcus followed her gaze, his eyes grew wide.\n\n\"How...\" He looked first at Vincent, then at Jessica. John didn't seem to peak his interest. \"Where were they?\"\n\n\"Outside of Hux,\" said Lynn. \"As I understand it, you were just there. Pity you couldn't have brought them in yourself.\"\n\nMarcus continued to stare at them for a second, as if suspicious they might disappear, before turning to Lynn. \"How did you find them?\"\n\n\"They were buying black market ID prints. The ones you lost in the hack.\"\n\n\"That was a fluke,\" snapped Marcus. \"Our security was flawless. They must have had someone with knowledge of the system.\"\n\n\"Well whoever it was, just be glad your mess was cleaned up for you. Consider these two a reward for poor performance.\"\n\nMarcus looked at them again, this time lingering on John. \"Correct me if I'm wrong, but it appears as if you've miscounted.\"\n\n\"The third is a print scalper,\" said Lynn. \"He might assist in your investigation of the hack, but he's a nobody.\"\n\nJohn shifted against his captors, scowling at his mother.\n\nMarcus gave him a doubtful look. \"I suppose you want me to hold them for you?\"\n\n\"I don't care what you do with them,\" said Lynn. \"Take them away. Ship them to a Seclusion. Whatever you want.\" She paused. \"Or if you'd rather I take them I'm sure I can—\"\n\n\"No,\" said Marcus. \"I can find a place for them. You won't be needed.\" He motioned for Goodwin's officers to follow him as he turned away.\n\n\"Actually,\" said Lynn, \"I'm here about the defense network as well. The Alternative Products Division notified me of an issue just today. And because the network is under your department, I was hoping to have a word.\"\n\nMarcus raised a brow, expectant.\n\n\"A _private_ word,\" said Lynn. \"Surely you of all people can arrange for that.\"\n\nMarcus smirked at her, then flicked his head at the men holding Vincent and Jessica. \"And them?\"\n\n\"Do you know where holding is?\" asked Lynn, looking at the officers. As one, they nodded. \"There. They can escort themselves.\"\n\nMarcus grunted in response, unconvinced. He took a step closer to survey the men more carefully.\n\n\"Of course, you can always summon others.\" Lynn stepped forward as well. She didn't seem keen on Marcus's having a closer look. \"Have someone hold their hands from here, if you must.\"\n\nMarcus cast the men another look. \"I think I will.\" His eyes flashed out of focus so quickly it looked like a kind of open-eyed blink. \"I've summoned a man. We can talk in my office.\"\n\n\"Perhaps in the network office would be better?\" suggested Lynn. Marcus seemed hesitant. Lynn rolled her eyes. \"I bring you gifts and you won't even show me my own products?\"\n\nMarcus snorted. \"Fine.\" He started off down the hall. Lynn followed without so much as a glance back. They were still in sight when the door Marcus had emerged through slid open once again. A crisply dressed, prim-looking man stepped out to meet them. His uniform was not as elaborate as the high-collared jumpsuits of Marcus and Lynn, and not as plain as the gray uniform of the officers.\n\n\"Step inside,\" he said. He backed away from the door frame and motioned them in. The man with the iron voice, still with John as his captive, led them inside. The room was plain and miniature, only just big enough for all of them at once, and bare but for two separate doors on the wall they were facing. The first looked no different than the one they had just passed through. The second was to a small pod, one made entirely of glass and curved outward like the side of a fishbowl.\n\n\"You will deposit your guests through this door on the right,\" the prim-looking man said. He pointed at the fishbowl door. \"The boys together, the girl separate.\"\n\nThe man with the iron voice inspected the door, skeptical. \"And we will accompany you to the observation deck?\"\n\n\"That hardly seems necessary. Watching the guests is a one-man job.\" The prim-looking man surveyed the officers with more than a hint of distaste. \"You can return to the quarters. Now, if you would. The girl first.\"\n\nVincent felt the air grow thick with tension. This was not part of the plan.\n\n\"Wait just a moment. We went through a great deal in order to secure these guests. We want to see they are properly detained.\"\n\nThe prim-looking man sighed in exasperation. \"Marcus designed this system himself. You have no need to worry. There's no room for all of you, anyway.\"\n\n\"Just me then. It would give us peace of mind, and I know Lynn would appreciate it.\"\n\nThe prim-looking man's brow was furrowed comically low as he considered them. \"Well if you're so insistent I'll let you accompany me, but the others will have to leave.\"\n\n\"Certainly.\"\n\nThe prim-looking man puffed up slightly. \"And now for the guests.\" He motioned forward to the officers holding Jessica, wearing his best impression of a commanding look, and the fishbowl door slid open. Without hesitation, the men hauled Jessica inside. She looked out at Vincent as the door slid shut and the pod receded back into the wall, then disappeared as it moved to the right and out of view. A moment later, a second, empty pod moved into place.\n\n\"The gentlemen now,\" said the prim-looking man. John and Vincent were shoved into the new pod simultaneously. \"Easy as that. Now your men can—\"\n\nThe glass door slid shut, and the prim-looking man went mute. The pod was filled with silence, and Vincent could feel the tension in it. He kept his focus on the scene outside: the prim-looking man finishing his rant, the man with the iron voice waiting with the others.\n\nThe pod began to recede into the wall, and the loading room disappeared. They were cast into shadow, then into complete darkness but for a faint light above.\n\n\"We should have told you,\" said Vincent.\n\nJohn continued to stare at the glass wall in front of them. His expression remained unrevealing, cold – his usual mask had been reaffixed.\n\n\"There never seemed to be a good time and...\" Vincent trailed off when he heard how insufficient his words sounded. He looked out into the pitch black of the tunnel, searching for something to say that would come close to making a difference, but he found nothing. Instead, his mind settled again and again on the same thoughts, the same images: Brian's limp body hanging from its restraints, the open, sightless eyes staring down at a puddle of blood...\n\nVincent turned his gaze back to the interior of the pod, back to John. \"I'm sorry.\" The words sounded tiny and weak, disappearing into the silence the second they sounded. Vincent forced them out again. \"I'm sorry.\"\n\nJohn turned from the wall this time. He met Vincent's eyes.\n\n\"For not telling you,\" said Vincent. \"And for forcing you to find out the way you did.\" He paused – the air between them seemed to tighten, as if anticipating the next few words. \"And for your brother. I know it doesn't matter now, but I'm sorry.\"\n\nJohn clenched his jaw at the mention of Brian. He said nothing in response. He only continued the same, accusing glare he had worn in the driveway. Vincent struggled to stare back, and just when he was about to look away, John turned to the glass. With his eyes unfocused, fixed out into the tunnel on nothing in particular, he opened his mouth to speak–\n\nThe pod jerked to a stop. Vincent turned to the pitch black beyond the glass. Below them, the darkness split down the middle with white light. The floor of the tunnel was spiraling outward, forming a hole just large enough to receive them. There was a lurch, a brief second of decreased gravity, and they began to sink. The pod was dropping through the opening, supported below by nothing but thin air. As they descended, Vincent had to hold up a hand to shield the light. He blinked so his eyes could adjust...\n\nSuddenly the floor of the pod slid out from under them, and they fell, landing only a fraction of a second later on the surface of thick glass. Brushing himself off, and still trying to blink away the light, Vincent got to his feet. They were in a much larger pod now, maybe ten times the size of their miniature one, and the walls were made entirely of mirrors. A dozen other prisoners, all men, were in the pod as well. Most kept their gazes on their own feet, but the rest were looking at the fishbowl-shape transport Vincent and John had just arrived in. They wore looks of utter indifference as they watched the thing rise. Only one of them spoke.\n\n\"No.\"\n\nVincent turned toward the voice, and when he did, he found himself facing a round man with dark, beady eyes and an unmistakably wide nose.\n\n\"No,\" Simon said again. His voice cracked as he spoke. He shook his head, lips quivering, eyes shining. \"No.\"\n\nHe repeated the word over and over again as he sank to the floor. He stared up at Vincent, accusation in his eyes, a tremor in his lower jaw.\n\n\"She was with you,\" he said. \"She's here, isn't she? They have her.\"\n\nVincent opened his mouth to speak, but the words seemed to be caught in his throat.\n\nIt was all the answer Simon needed. He began rocking silently where he sat, his hands shaped like a cage around his face.\n\n\"Simon...\" Vincent started, then stopped again. There was no way to communicate anything important. The walls of their bowl-shaped enclosure were mirrored, but he had a feeling the outside ones were perfectly transparent.\n\n\"She's ok,\" said Vincent. Simon looked up at this. \"She's safe.\"\n\n\"Safe?\" repeated Simon. \"Is that what you call this?\" He held up his hands, motioning to nothing in particular.\n\n\"No. But... but she's not hurt.\"\n\n\"That's just temporary. When they don't need her, they'll take her away. They always take you away.\" He pulled his knees into his chest as he scooted backward, pressing himself up against the mirror there, still rocking, still shaking his head.\n\nVincent looked over his shoulder for help. John remained in the center of the pod, looking confused and making no move forward.\n\nSighing, Vincent crossed over to Simon and sat down against the mirror next to him. The developer was wiping his tears with his shirt, which, Vincent noticed, seemed to have gone unchanged since their first meeting.\n\n\"I'm sorry,\" said Vincent. \"I tried to look after her.\"\n\nSimon sniffled, clearing his throat and trying to compose himself. \"She doesn't need looking after. Never has.\" He sniffled again but smiled this time and looked up at Vincent. \"You said she's not hurt?\"\n\n\"Nothing serious. Just some scratches.\"\n\nSimon nodded and regained control of his breathing. \"Where were you?\" he asked.\n\n\"Hux. We never made it to the border.\"\n\n\"You wouldn't have found help there, anyway. Hux is far enough.\" Simon paused with a hollow grimace, but he resumed before Vincent could press. \"I would have loved to see the city one last time. How was it?\"\n\n\"Worse,\" said Vincent. \"Different, but worse.\"\n\n\"Have the 'attacks' stopped?\"\n\n\"They've decreased.\"\n\n\"Everywhere or just in the standards?\"\n\n\"Just in the standards _is_ everywhere.\"\n\nSimon lifted his eyebrows, for a fraction of a second surprised, then lowered them again, deflating. \"It was just a matter of time. Sometimes I think Newsight is better at being the Order than they are at being themselves. I don't know why they bother with two names.\"\n\nJohn looked over at them. \"Newsight can call themselves whatever they want, but the true Order will always go by their rightful name.\"\n\nVincent went stiff. His eyes strayed to the mirrored surface over John's head.\n\n\"The true Order?\" Simon laughed. \"You mean a resistance?\"\n\nJohn seemed prepared to shoot something back, but Vincent caught his eye. He held the words in.\n\n\"Of course there's a resistance,\" said Simon. \"But that doesn't mean it's real.\"\n\n\"You're wrong,\" snapped John. Vincent cast the mirror another nervous look.\n\n\"Am I? So you've seen it?\"\n\n\"I'm part of it.\"\n\n\"John,\" said Vincent, \"we shouldn't be talking about—\"\n\n\"It doesn't matter,\" snapped John. He followed Vincent's gaze to the mirror. \"They know. It's why we're here.\"\n\nSimon turned to Vincent. \"What does he mean that's why you're here?\"\n\n\"He's just upset,\" said Vincent. \"We were caught with fake ID prints.\"\n\nSimon seemed to smell the lie. \"Vincent this is important. Tell me you and Jessica haven't gotten wrapped up in this.\"\n\n\"We haven't.\" Vincent looked at the mirror over Simon's shoulder. He could feel them watching – he just didn't know where from.\n\n\"Vincent,\" said Simon. \"Look at me when you say it.\"\n\nVincent turned to the man, to his beady eyes with the telltale curve of the Lenses. \"We shouldn't be talking about this here.\"\n\nSimon looked at the mirror behind him, then turned back to Vincent. \"Here is the same as anywhere else. In holding, in the middle of the Center, in whatever 'secret' base the Order has constructed. They still hear.\"\n\nVincent shook his head. \"Not everywhere. The Lenses can be turned off. Newsight has devices for it, and the Order could have them, too.\"\n\nSimon stared at him a moment longer. He seemed to sense the spark in Vincent's eyes, the hope. \"You believed them, didn't you? You joined them?\"\n\nVincent said nothing. He merely stared defiantly back.\n\n\"Vincent the Lenses can't be turned off,\" said Simon. \"They can't be taken out or disabled. They're permanent.\"\n\n\"But the darkeners can—\"\n\n\"The darkeners are a hoax. They shut the Lenses off for the user, not the producer. Dark Lenses are just like this glass.\" He looked up at the mirrored bowl that encased them. \"One-way. Just because we can't see doesn't mean Newsight can't.\"\n\n\"You're delirious,\" said John. Some of the other captives looked up, startled by his raised voice. \"You don't know what you're talking about.\"\n\n\"I programmed for Newsight my whole life, son,\" said Simon. \"I've seen the code.\"\n\n\"But that doesn't make sense,\" said Vincent. \"Those devices are the only reason Jessica and I were able to escape from the Seclusion.\" He thought back to the night of the crash, then to the officer carrying him to the transport. \"And there are people in Newsight who are part of the Order. One of the officers helped us escape.\"\n\n\"He may have,\" said Simon. \"But only because those were his orders.\"\n\nVincent opened his mouth to reply with some protest, but he was brought back to that night once again. He was in the transport, and the officer was right in front of him. The man's eyes were out of focus. He was receiving some sort of message...\n\n\"He could have been communicating with the Order.\" Vincent wasn't sure if he was talking to Simon or himself. \"They could have told him to help us.\"\n\n\"Then Newsight would have seen the message, and they would have stopped you. At any point they wanted, they could have stopped you.\"\n\n\"But they didn't. They couldn't. Our Lenses were dark.\"\n\n\"I already told you they're never dark. Not for Newsight. Whatever you were seeing was valuable to them, so they let you go. For a while, at least.\"\n\nVincent looked up to John for help, but John had gone quiet. He was looking at Simon.\n\n\"That still doesn't make sense,\" said Vincent. \"We weren't seeing anything important.\"\n\n\"Maybe you weren't,\" said Simon. \"Or maybe you didn't realize the importance of what you _were_ seeing.\"\n\nVincent frowned at this, confused. Simon looked back at him with something close to sympathy.\n\n\"You did see something,\" said John. He hadn't moved from his position in the center of the place. \"You saw some of the last people alive without Lenses. In the Hole.\" His gaze was fixed on Vincent. It was a fact, a simple statement, but there was an accusation there as well. Vincent thought back to their return to the parking garage just a day prior. The structure had remained mostly intact. The inside, however, had been far from that. It had been the aftermath of a raid, not a bombing. Newsight hadn't bothered with their usual methods – they had known the garage was reinforced. They had known there were people inside without Lenses. They had known the exact stairwell to send their men. Somehow, they had known it all.\n\nVincent turned back to Simon. He could feel the heat of John's gaze on the back of his neck. \"But how would they have known we would see anything? Why wouldn't they have just tracked us down and taken us back?\"\n\n\"Because that would have spoiled the charade.\" Simon spoke in a low tone, almost apologetic. \"If they had tracked you down, you would have known the darkeners didn't work, you would have _known_ there was no way to escape, and you would have _known_ there was no use trying.\" Simon paused, looking at John, then back at Vincent. \"But they don't want you to know that. The second you know is the second they lose you.\"\n\n\"Even if all that were true,\" said John, \"how do you explain the ID print hack? I did it myself. I unlocked everything we needed.\"\n\n\"You can't unlock doors that are already open,\" said Simon. \"There's been a hole in the print process for years. I tried to fix it myself once, but I was denied.\"\n\nJohn continued to stare at the man, defiant. He was still searching for a way out of the net cast by Simon's words, and he was squirming.\n\nA sharp thump sounded just outside the mirror. Vincent turned around. It had come from directly behind him. Simon didn't flinch.\n\n\"Whoever brought you here,\" said Simon, \"whether by force or by plan is playing you. You're on the wrong end of a set of puppet strings. The Order the terrorist organization and the Order the resistance are just two masks for the same face. No matter which one it wears, Newsight has the same eyes as always.\"\n\nVincent felt his breaths come a bit sharper. He could say nothing back. John, too, remained silent, merely staring at Simon, accusing, resentful, as if Simon had spoken the truth into existence, not merely reported it.\n\nThe developer was opening his mouth yet again when the mirror at his back disappeared. It slid to the side so quickly he fell backward into a brightly lit, sterile-looking room beyond. Before he could right himself, his arms were grabbed from behind, and he was dragged out. Vincent jumped to his feet. Out the opening he could see the prim-looking man, bloodied at the temple and hunched at the waist, his body slung over a railing just outside. Next to him, Goodwin's officers dragged Simon across the floor.\n\n\"Don't tell Jessica,\" he called back to Vincent. His expression was calm, his tone level. \"Don't tell Jessica.\"\n\nVincent stared after him, but his vision was blocked by a man who stepped into the doorway, the man with the iron voice. The iron eyes. They reminded Vincent of the slips of metal the sweet-voiced woman had used to activate their Lenses.\n\nIn that moment, what little doubt of Simon's theory that remained in Vincent's mind was extinguished. The man with the iron voice seemed to sense it, and in a flash he swung his club against Vincent's temple.\nChapter 20 – The Trinity\n\nThe pain pulled Vincent from his sleep, throbbing, beating against the inside of his skull. It sat behind his Lenses like an infection when he opened his eyes, but he could see the room's wood panel floor and pale crimson paint just the same. Even the square video feeds on the rightmost wall were sharp and in focus.\n\n\"Welcome back, Vincent.\"\n\nThe deep voice. The slight rasp. The echo that lingered longer than normal.\n\nGoodwin leaned forward in the chair of the ornate desk and interlocked his fingers. \"You've been here before.\" He may have posed it as a question, but he didn't. \"It was in disarray when I returned, the books especially.\"\n\nVincent looked up at the bookshelf, at the colorful spectrum of titles there. He thought of Jessica. \"Where is—\"\n\n\"Safe,\" said Goodwin. The craters in his head seemed to move when he spoke, flexing muscles to move eyes that weren't there. \"Much more so than you. _You_ have presented a problem, but not one that lacks a solution.\"\n\nFor a moment, Vincent expected the man with the iron voice to come bursting through the door. To apprehend him, to take him away. But the room was still and the hallway beyond was silent. The lack of security only deepened his unease, only cemented his feet more firmly to the floor.\n\n\"The developer has complicated things,\" continued Goodwin. \"He has always had an appetite for knowledge that does not belong to him, and for sharing that knowledge with others.\"\n\nVincent looked at the feeds. They no longer pictured different rooms of the dome; they showed the Seclusion, not from steady, tripod-like views, but from bouncing uneven ones, running ones, blinking ones. Goodwin seemed to sense his gaze.\n\n\"Even the Order needs monitoring,\" he said. \"For their own protection.\"\n\nVincent watched through the eyes of the Order as the domes around them were razed by bombs of fighter planes. There was no volume, but if there were, Vincent was certain he would be able to hear the screams.\n\n\"Do you know why you're here, Vincent?\" asked Goodwin.\n\nVincent turned from the feeds. \"To be taken away?\"\n\n\"If that were the case, I would never have requested you be brought to my home.\"\n\n\" _Your_ home?\"\n\nGoodwin grinned. \"You imagine John infiltrated the Newsight headquarters alone? Or that Brian solicited your support without detection? The sons, though neither would suspect it, were sheltered by hands of the father.\"\n\nVincent stared back in confusion, then, as Goodwin lifted his own gnarled hands, the confusion turned to horror.\n\n\"You... you can't be...\"\n\nGoodwin raised a brow, as if tempting further protest. Vincent strained his thoughts to find one, desperate for some argument or objection, but he could find nothing but the opposite. THE SIM in the office, Brian's intimate knowledge of the Order, John's smuggling of the ID prints – the pieces fit too well in place to be denied.\n\n\"What about Lynn?\" he asked, clinging to his final hold. \"She wouldn't have lied to us. Or to Brian. She can't have known what you're doing.\"\n\nGoodwin grinned again, and Vincent felt an urge to be sick. The loyalty of Lynn and her family, the bedrock on which he had built his faith, had turned to sand.\n\n\"Why are you here, Vincent?\"\n\nVincent looked again at the feeds, then at the books, filled more than ever with dread. \"I don't know.\"\n\nGoodwin breathed out, disappointed. \"You brought us THE SIM, did you not?\" Vincent nodded. \"And you watched it, did you not?\" He nodded again. \"Then you know control to be the nature of Newsight. How is someone of your type controlled, Vincent? Someone of the minority?\"\n\n_We_. Goodwin had said it himself. _We:_ the Order. _We:_ Newsight. _We:_ one and the same.\n\n\"Vincent?\" prompted Goodwin.\n\n\"With fear.\"\n\n\"With fear of oppression, very good. This fear is driven by your type's fixation with freedom, a thing you value well more than comfort and contentment. Is this correct?\"\n\nVincent didn't have to think. \"Yes.\"\n\n\"And do you feel you can ever be free?\"\n\n\"Of course I do.\"\n\n\"Then allow me to remind you.\" Goodwin turned in his seat toward the feeds, and they morphed into a single image. It was Annie back in Hux. She was in a hallway, staring directly at whatever was capturing the video.\n\n\"Have you thought any more about my invitation?\" she asked.\n\nThe feed went black for a fraction of a second as it fast-forwarded.\n\n\"Ok,\" said a second voice. It took Vincent a moment to recognize it as his own. \"We can share.\"\n\nGoodwin paused the feed. \"Did you want to share a simulation with this girl?\"\n\nVincent thought of Jessica. The answer was obvious. \"No.\"\n\n\"Would you have, anyway?\"\n\nHe hesitated, then thought of the restless feeling in his legs, the prickling heat under his skin. \"Yes,\" he admitted, hating the sound of the word.\n\n\"And here,\" said Goodwin. The feed had changed. They were in the Hole, looking once more through Vincent's eyes. John was standing just ahead. Bodies of the stayers littered the garage floor. \"Did you intend to inform Newsight of the resistance in Washing?\"\n\n\"No,\" said Vincent.\n\n\"Did you regardless?\"\n\nVincent forced himself to look at the image, at the bodies. John had known it in holding, and Vincent knew it now.\n\n\"Yes,\" he said.\n\nThe feed changed again. They were in the tunnels, in the cavernous room with the crowd and with Goodwin speaking in its center. This time they weren't looking through Vincent's Lenses but at them. His face was red, his eyes bloodshot. He was screaming with the rest of the crowd, his lips forming obscene words, his hands the same gestures.\n\n\"Did you mean to be moved to anger?\" asked Goodwin.\n\n\"No,\" said Vincent.\n\n\"Were you so moved regardless?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\nAgain, the feed changed. They were in the factory. Vincent was running with the crowd of the Order. Men and women in gray were fleeing from them, faces pulled into looks of terror.\n\n\"Did you intend to harm these people?\" asked Goodwin.\n\n\"No,\" said Vincent.\n\n\"And did you?\"\n\nVincent hesitated. An image of Jim's wife, of Tina, seemed to materialize over his Lenses. He hadn't touched her. He was sure of it.\n\n\"You hesitate,\" said Goodwin. \"Would you like me to play the footage? You gouged out a man's eyes. You punctured a woman's windpipe with your thumbs. And the individual you spared perished with the rest. You acted with inconceivable violence and enabled the deaths of dozens. Is that correct?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Vincent.\n\nThe feed changed yet again, but it remained in the factory. The same men and women that before had been wearing gray were now dressed in white. They stood as dead tree stumps along the conveyor belt down the center of the room, twisting a bolt onto a part here, rinsing the threads of a screw there. Vincent could see their fragile frames, their sallow, sunken skin. Around them walked dozens of officers, lean and brawny, eyes cold, and above them all, over the main entrance, the inscription that had been painted over was now clearly visible: THERE IS NO FEAR WITHOUT HOPE.\n\n\"Were you aware the dome we attacked was not a Newsight factory?\" asked Goodwin.\n\n\"No,\" said Vincent.\n\n\"Do you see now it was a labor Seclusion?\"\n\nVincent scrutinized the feed, willing its projection to change, to shift back to the gray-clad men and women of before, to show them beating _real_ officers, not the frail, white-suited captives.\n\n\"Do you see?\" repeated Goodwin.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Vincent.\n\nThe feed went dark.\n\n\"And do you wish to be with me, in this room, at this moment?\" asked Goodwin.\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Are you and will you remain here regardless?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\nGoodwin nodded his approval. \"You see now that our power is absolute. So tell me again: do you feel you can ever be free?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Vincent, still clinging to a stubborn hope. \"If not here, then somewhere else.\"\n\n\"Ah. You mean beyond the border.\" Goodwin flicked a finger and the feeds shifted. They showed more footage of people with Lenses, only now there were no Seclusion domes or fighter jets or gray factories. The small, moving images were of antiquated skyscrapers and lush green parks, of crowded sidewalks and houses with slanted roofs, of trains and cities and towns that swarmed with people. But what caught Vincent's eye was not the strange locales – it was the nature of the feeds. Occasionally, as if on the whim of the wearer, a pair of Lenses would be removed, and a feed would go dark.\n\nHis eyes flitted from one square to the next, his pulse pounding with sudden excitement, before settling on an image in the center of the wall. A Lens-wearer stared out the windshield of an old-fuel truck, at a deserted road lined by fields of wheat, at a searing red glow that rimmed the dusk horizon.\n\n\"There are others,\" said Vincent in awe. \"And they're free. They're...\"\n\nBut he trailed off when he saw the sun high overhead, nowhere near its descent. The red glow on the horizon wasn't the sunset. It was light of a different type entirely, and it was growing brighter with each passing second. Identical grim scenes skirted the edges of surrounding feeds. The packed plazas on cobblestone streets, the open, golden plains and exotic landscapes – all blended to a single mass of burning red. The sky exploded with a supernova-like light. The windshield of the truck became a bubbling blur. The very air seemed razed with flames until, in the space of a cruelly quick blink, the feeds and everything in them dissolved to a blinding white.\n\nGoodwin flicked a finger once again, and the feeds vanished. \"There _were_ others. They _were_ free.\"\n\nVincent stared at the spot where the truck driver had just disappeared, a sinking feeling deep in his stomach. He willed the projection back to life, but the wall remained black.\n\n\"Come now, Vincent,\" continued Goodwin, his tone impatient. \"There is no world but ours. You know this. However stubborn grew your denial, you have always known.\"\n\nVincent continued to stare at the wall, unable to look Goodwin in the face. The man's demeanor was so casual, so uncaring and dismissive that for a moment, Vincent questioned whether the horrific footage had ever played. But only for a moment. He remembered the crimson glow, the flames, the blinding white, and his dreams of escape came to a claustrophobic, inevitable end.\n\n\"Hear me one final time,\" said Goodwin. \"Do you feel you can ever be free?\"\n\nVincent attempted to hesitate, to doubt, but it was impossible. \"I don't.\"\n\nGoodwin breathed a sigh of relief. \"You are correct, Vincent. Do you see why this knowledge of yours poses a problem?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"The developer has already told you. We have won everything. You have nothing left.\"\n\n\"I have Jessica,\" he said. It was his last rock.\n\n\"Jessica knows nothing. She will remain in the Order.\"\n\n\"So she'll live? You won't hurt her?\"\n\n\"I will not. Whether she lives, however, is a separate question.\" Goodwin paused at this, seeming, somehow, to inspect Vincent. \"Do you believe there is any chance Jessica will ever be free?\"\n\nVincent started to speak, then stopped again. He turned to the wall where the feeds had just disappeared. He thought of Simon being dragged away, limp and unresisting.\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"And as the minority type,\" said Goodwin, \"do you feel there is any true life without freedom?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"So if Jessica's life is without meaning because she will never have freedom, is it true you have no reason to fear her loss?\"\n\nVincent felt as if a knot were being tied with his intestines and pulled tighter with every question. He had sealed his only way out.\n\n\"You have nothing,\" said Goodwin, not waiting for an answer. \"You will never fear us. This is important, Vincent, you must understand this. Understand everything.\"\n\n\"I understand,\" said Vincent.\n\n\"You understand the Order never existed, never will exist, and was, itself, created by Newsight?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"You understand Aldous Fatrem is whomever I declare? That he will forever exist and forever rule?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"You understand every fraction of every second of every thought, sight, and sound is monitored by the software and developers of Newsight, and that every member of the Order has been allowed to be so only because Newsight allowed it?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Vincent.\n\n\"You further understand every attack of the Order was orchestrated by Newsight Management for the advancement of our own ends?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"And you lastly understand,\" said Goodwin, \"the new Lenses are incapable of being removed, impaired, or otherwise harmed without the resultant death of their owner?\"\n\nVincent looked into the man's deep black craters, the never-ending Lenseless pits. Goodwin grinned.\n\n\"I have never worn Lenses. I am the only one.\"\n\nA wild, fanciful hope surged through Vincent. \"You could leave. You could escape.\"\n\nGoodwin grinned wider still. \"From my own kingdom?\"\n\nThe hope left Vincent like the flame of a candle snuffed by an ocean.\n\n\"Your understanding is complete, Vincent. So tell me: why are you here?\"\n\nVincent ventured the same guess as before, knowing, in advance he would be wrong. \"To be taken away.\"\n\n\"No!\" thundered Goodwin. \"You are not of the breed of stringless puppets we take away. You are not hopeless and hateless. You _feel_ , and you are not to be wasted.\" Goodwin's face had grown animated – his black-scarred sockets fixed Vincent with an unbreakable stare – but he paused, gaining his breath, returning to himself. \"Answer this first, Vincent, and you will be able to answer the other. Why should we want control? Why should we want power?\"\n\nThe man's mouth parted, an answer to his own question already perched on his tongue. Vincent knew what it would be. For the majority: a protector from evil and a source of senseless pleasure. For the minority: a fuel to be burned by the churning engines of freedom, a fight, a passion. \"You do it for the benefit of the people you rule over. For the greater good of—\"\n\n\"Incorrect,\" snapped Goodwin. \"Vastly incorrect. We are no more the messiah to the people than the butcher is to the pig. Power is its own end. It is taken because it is desired and kept because it satisfies. He who would be free, we oppress only to provide an escape. He who would be happy and secure, we terrorize only to provide protection. We are fear and hope and love and hatred all at once. We cling to power for this reason and this reason alone: to be everything is the only way to be anything at all, to be real.\"\n\nVincent was beginning to understand, as much as one could understand the man without eyes. \"Your purpose of power... the only way you can truly have it over someone is if they accept the truth you create, the contradiction.\"\n\nGoodwin nodded to him, encouraging, prompting like a father.\n\n\"And as the minority type,\" continued Vincent, \"my fear of Newsight is motivated by my hope of escape.\" Goodwin nodded again. \"But knowing everything I do, I have no such hope. And so I can have no fear to accompany it. You can't control me like the others.\"\n\n\"Close, Vincent,\" said Goodwin, \"very close. It is true you have broken the mold of your type, but that you cannot be controlled is entirely false. You retain your capacity to feel, and are therefore very valuable to us. We will go to any length to seize back power over you.\"\n\n\"But even if that were possible, why not just take me away? Why go through any trouble at all for just one person?\"\n\n\"Because you are far more than one person. You are every citizen in every city. Your condition is the plague of our people, for your resistance to our created truth exists in everyone. In spite of all we have accomplished, we have not secured that final fraction of control, that total spectrum of acceptance.\"\n\nVincent frowned, more confused than ever. \"Then I'm not unique at all. I'm no different than the others.\"\n\n\" _You_ are patient zero,\" said Goodwin. \"Of every man, woman and child capable of feeling, of every soul worth casting our dominion over, you alone know our true nature and are therefore the farthest from our reach. If we can overcome _your_ resistance, we hold a blueprint to total power. If we can cure you, we can cure all.\"\n\n\"But I'm not the only one who knows. Simon knows. And so does John. They were both there when—\"\n\n\"Simon is numb, his condition irreversible. He will be taken away. And Johnathan denied the truth. He could not bear to believe his efforts have been in vain. He will be renewed of his hope, and he will be cured.\"\n\n\"So that's what you'll do to me? You'll give me hope again.\"\n\n\"That is beyond reason. You have said so yourself.\" Goodwin considered him here, as if to reassure his own words, then interlaced his long fingers importantly. \"In the cities,\" he continued, changing his thought, \"the majority wish only to be happy. They wish to be entertained and to be safe. The Order threatens them, ravages their families and colleagues, and for the Order, they are filled with hatred. Newsight protects them, entertains them, and offers them joy, and for Newsight, they are filled with love. But Newsight and the Order are one, and we become to our subjects two opposites of the same whole. Power over the majority is just as valuable as it is over the minority, only of a different taste.\" He paused, his eyes – it was impossible not to see the craters as giant pupils – fixed on Vincent. \"It is for this reason we will not endeavor to renew your hope. It is for this reason we will convert you to the majority type, and instill in you the love for Newsight such a conversion requires.\"\n\nVincent leaned back, stunned. \"That's impossible.\"\n\nGoodwin continued undeterred. \"Our latest product will be your treatment, and by this treatment you will fall fully under our control. You are here, you our most difficult patient, because developing this product in you is the only way to ensure its success in all others. You are the key to the domination of all resistance.\"\n\n\"It won't work,\" said Vincent. \"I hate Newsight.\"\n\nGoodwin began to laugh, deep and hoarse. His sunken and unseeing pupils writhed mockingly inside their hollow cavities.\n\n\"I hate Newsight,\" repeated Vincent. The prickling heat rose under the skin of his face, the same as it had in the cavern and in the factory, only this time there was no maintenance to stir it in him, no serums. \"I hate it.\"\n\n\"I believe you, Vincent,\" said Goodwin. \"I do.\"\n\nVincent said nothing back. He let the heat continue to rise under his skin.\n\n\"But your hatred of Newsight only increases your capacity to love. It will only provide us more satisfaction from having power over you.\" Goodwin smiled – too broadly now to be just a grin – and leaned back in his chair. \"So cling to your hatred, Vincent. We will need it.\"\nChapter 21 – Newlife\n\nVincent was standing at the sink holding a plate that had been spotless for several minutes. He let the warm water continue to run over his hands, losing himself in the slow, circular rhythm of his cleansing strokes.\n\nHe was taller now, though not by much. He had gained weight, too, as the years had passed. His body had a man's brawn. His skin had lost some of its youthful glow, but the difference was barely perceptible. He bore no sign of wrinkles, except where the water from the faucet had been streaming onto his fingers.\n\n\"I'm home!\"\n\nA voice called out over the creaking of the front door. Vincent looked up. Jessica stepped into the living room and shed her coat on the nearest chair.\n\n\"Did you eat without me?\" she asked.\n\nShe had changed very little. Her eyes shone with the same, wide curiosity as they always had. Her hair, still dark, was pulled back. And her face, still somewhat flat, wore the same, constant hint of a smile.\n\n\"I have a group to get settled tonight,\" said Vincent. \"I tried to wait for you.\"\n\nJessica dropped her bag and lowered herself into the chair across the counter. It was a process – she had gained much more weight than Vincent. Of course most of it, especially in the large, rounded part of her stomach, was not her own. \"You're working late again?\" she asked.\n\nVincent raised his brow, then looked down at his watch. \" _I'm_ the one working late?\"\n\nJessica waved a dismissive hand. \"You know how crazy it is when we're in session. I have to be there.\"\n\n\"Not in your current state you don't.\"\n\nShe grinned. \"You do know you're the one who put me in this 'state', don't you?\"\n\nVincent smiled back at her. He shook his head and shut the water off. The plate – now sparkling – he set in the drying rack. \"Well you only have one more night,\" he said. He circled the counter and she spun around in her chair to receive him. He placed a hand on the upper part of her stomach. \"So I thought just maybe you would be home on time.\"\n\nJessica looked down at Vincent's hand, smiling, and placed her own hand there as well. \"She only makes me want to work later.\"\n\nVincent sighed, but he didn't argue. He didn't disagree. \"How is the legislation coming? Are the trade blocks finalized?\"\n\n\"Nearly. We're getting close.\"\n\nVincent nodded and gave her stomach one final, gentle pat before turning away. He pulled his coat from the rack.\n\n\"Who are you assigned to?\" asked Jessica.\n\n\"More refugees from the Lens-standard countries.\" Vincent threw his coat around his shoulders and bent down to retrieve his briefcase. \"Food's in the oven.\"\n\n\"Hurry back to us.\"\n\n\"I will,\" said Vincent, and he started for the door, smiling.\n\n* * * * * *\n\nVincent sat down in one of the leather chairs outside the usual door, still panting from his commute. The traffic in the city, though working hours had long since ended, never seemed to thin. With the activists protesting outside the Capitol and the foreign refugees coming through the halos, the streets were nearly overrun. Vincent wasn't bothered, though. The energy in the air was infectious. There was a shared, crusading kind of spirit, and it filled him to the brim. He didn't mind working after hours any more than Jessica did.\n\n\"Just through here.\"\n\nVincent stood when he heard the voice. The door across from him had opened.\n\n\"Allow me to introduce you to your guide.\"\n\nA hulking, red-haired man in a black suit stepped into the hall. He pointed to Vincent with his left hand and ushered a family of three through the door with his right.\n\n\"This is Vincent Smith,\" the man continued. \"Vincent, meet the Lees.\"\n\nVincent stepped forward with a bow. The father, a lean, small-framed man with narrow eyes and olive-colored skin, bowed back.\n\n\"You're in good hands,\" said the red-haired man, addressing the family. He smiled at them, then disappeared back through the door.\n\nThe father bowed to Vincent once again and spoke in broken English. \"It is nice to meet you. My name is Steven. This is my wife, Zoey, and my son, David.\"\n\nThe woman behind Steven bowed but said nothing. Vincent bowed in turn. The boy, not yet in his teens and almost identical to his father, did not bow but reached out his hand instead. Smiling, Vincent shook it.\n\n\"It's nice to meet all of you.\" He motioned down the hall, and they started to walk. \"I'll be showing you to your new home. You'll be living in the halos with the rest of the refugees.\"\n\n\"The halos,\" said Steven, \"that is what you call your air defense system?\"\n\nVincent nodded. \"We kept Newsight's original name for them, but they're completely under Senate control now.\"\n\nSteven looked around, seeming unimpressed. \"They are different than ours. Not as much security.\"\n\n\"We don't need much,\" said Vincent. \"The system hasn't been activated in years, and the identity checkpoints are no longer in use.\"\n\nSteven frowned. He glanced back at his family. \"So, we will not be identified? To be monitored?\"\n\n\"You'll be ID'ed, but only with paperwork for census purposes. For school, as well.\"\n\n\"How are the schools?\" joined David. \"Are there simulations?\" He said this last part a bit nervously. Vincent shook his head.\n\n\"No simulations. Just teachers.\"\n\nDavid nodded, but his nerves remained apparent.\n\n\"What information does the government request during the identification process?\" asked Steven, suspicious.\n\n\"Just standard things,\" said Vincent. \"Name, family ties, region of birth – details like those. You'll be assigned an ID number as well.\"\n\n\"And they track you with this number?\"\n\nVincent shook his head once again. \"No tracking. Your information will go into a database with your picture and your fingerprints. That's it.\"\n\nZoey, the man's wife, tugged at her husband's sleeve and spoke a different language into his ear, shooting Vincent several anxious glances. Vincent watched, patient.\n\n\"My wife is doubtful,\" relayed Steven. \"She does not trust the government. They did not collect much with the lenses at first, but that changed very quickly. How do we know that will not happen here?\"\n\nVincent could have predicted the question. He fielded the same one day in and day out.\n\n\"Public officials are vetted more closely than ever,\" he said. \"The government's and anyone else's collection of personal data is limited, and we've gone to great lengths to make sure it stays that way.\"\n\n\"With regulations?\" pressed Steven. \"That is what _our_ government tried. It did not last.\"\n\n\"Not with regulations. No one wants another Newsight. We're protected by memory now. We don't need litigation.\"\n\nSteven didn't look convinced but translated to his wife regardless. When he turned back to Vincent, he pressed no further, and they walked in silence.\n\n\"What about the attacks?\" David spoke up after a pause. He tried to keep the fear from his voice, but it came through with a slight shake. \"You said there haven't been any?\"\n\n\"Not recently,\" said Vincent. \"The last prominent terrorist organization we had to deal with was Newsight, and they're long gone now.\"\n\nVincent slowed them to a stop outside of a second door, the one that led to the refugee homes.\n\n\"Is there anyone else?\" asked David, when they had come to a stop. \"Does anyone else have missiles?\"\n\nVincent froze with his hand on the knob. The rawness of the question raised a lump in his throat. It was questions like those that drove him time and time again to the halos, to the refugees.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Vincent. \"There are people with missiles.\"\n\nDavid's face fell.\n\n\"But the halos have stopped every attack so far. You don't have to worry.\" Vincent smiled at him, then at his parents. \"All right,\" he said, turning back to the door, \"this is where all refugees begin their stay. The homes are...\" He trailed off when he saw David out of the corner of his eye. The boy kept casting nervous glances at the ceiling, as if he expected it to come crashing down any minute. Vincent felt the lump rise up in his throat once again. Taking a step back from the door, he crouched down so he and the boy were on the same level.\n\n\"I won't lie to you, David. You might not be completely safe here.\"\n\nDavid looked up at the ceiling again. His lower lip began to tremble.\n\n\"But even if you're not safe, you'll be something even better.\" Vincent smiled at him. \"You'll be free.\"\n\n* * * * * *\n\nIn the dark, Vincent eased the front door back into the closed position as quietly as he could. He hung his coat on the free hook in the closet and slipped off his shoes. The living room was exactly as he'd expected: television playing on mute, and Jessica fast asleep on the couch. Crossing over to her, he draped her with a blanket. The bulge of her stomach held up the fabric in the middle like a miniature tent. He smiled at the sight, then found his mouth opening in a long, deep yawn. He would need rest for tomorrow, real rest. Sleeping here was the recommended option, but he didn't want to take any chances. He had to be refreshed and completely present tomorrow morning. He would disengage, just for a little while.\n\nVincent kissed his hand and pressed it on Jessica's stomach over the blanket. Then, with a glance up and to the right, Jessica and the couch and the rest of the simulation disappeared. He was back in his room, already lying down. With another yawn he rolled over on his plain white mattress, in his plain white nightclothes, and he slept.\nChapter 22 – The Cure\n\nThe next morning Vincent stared through his window at the neighboring tower. It, like his and all the others in the sector, was circular and pure white.\n\nHe had not left the building, not even left his own small portion of it since he had first arrived. The windows were too thick to throw oneself through. The dinnerware was not sharp enough to cut oneself with. The sheets were not long enough to enable a sturdy knot to be tied in them. The food was pumped into one's body intravenously if one refused to eat it the normal way. And biting one's tongue or bludgeoning oneself against the wall was impossible to do to completion without being halted by the nurses. None of it ever worked. Couldn't work. Vincent had been deprived of the escape of death. He had been afforded no activity but the simulation they called Newlife.\n\nFor quite a long time – he prided himself on the length of it – he had abstained from Newlife altogether. He had begun by passing his days in silent compliance. That had gone on for as long as he could manage. He had no way of knowing how long exactly that was, of course. His Lenses no longer told time and his manual count of days had long since been abandoned. He had been given no point of reference, no news of the outside world, nothing of the Newsight Seclusion, of the other cities, not even of Hux itself or his neighboring towers in the retirement sector. He was stranded in time and place. His only semblance of escape was Newlife.\n\nVincent did not know what had befallen Jessica: whether she had been taken away or continued on with the Order as Goodwin had said. Either of the two would have been the same to Vincent. The results were equivalent. He understood now why Simon had lain so still as they dragged him from holding. Resistance was resignation. It was the one thing he knew for certain. To resist Newsight, you were in the Order. To be in the Order, you were part of Newsight. To flee from the bombing, you fled from the Order and into the cities. The cities were protected by Newsight, so in fleeing from the Order, you fled to Newsight, who was the Order.\n\nVincent turned from the window and walked the short distance back to his room. That was his space: the hall with his window, the room with his bed, and the bathroom with his shower and sink (the nurses always came long before the water reached a level into which one might lower one's face). He walked past the bathroom and went to his bed. With his eyes trained on the ceiling, he could have dozed off easily into a restless, dream-filled sleep. In the days when he did not engage his simulation, that had been his only option. He had felt like a captive then, riddled with thoughts of his parents, of Jessica, of Simon. When he had finally made the decision to give up, to allow himself to submit to Newlife, however, he had begun to feel less like a captive. The walls were just as claustrophobic and the windows just as impenetrable, but the experience was far different. He had stopped being a captive, and begun being a guest.\n\n\"Vincent?\"\n\nHis head nurse poked her head through the door. Vincent nurtured a stronger hatred for her than for any of the other nurses. She was always the first one to shut off the running water in the sink or staunch the bleeding of his tongue. But she was quite closely endeared to Vincent, as well – she always delivered the Newlife sims.\n\n\"I have more access cards for you,\" she said, stepping deeper into the room. \"But you know there's no need to keep exiting and resuming your simulation. I don't know how many times I have to tell you.\" She set a bowl of access cards on the table next to his bed. He smiled at her. He also felt a lurking desire to reach for her throat.\n\nWhen the nurse had left, Vincent reached over to the bowl and withdrew a card. Nearly shaking with excitement, he let his eyes slide out of focus and scanned the code. The usual, sweet-sounding voice rang out inside him. He oftentimes wondered if the woman whose voice played in his head was an actual woman. He would like very much to share a simulation with her. Although, her voice was also the one he heard when ramming his forehead into the wall above his bed, and the one that never quite seemed to be all the way silenced.\n\nThe Newlife began to load. It was a continuous simulation, one he had been living inside ever since beginning his treatment. He had grown up in the small brown house with his mother and father and grandfather. He had met a girl with a short black ponytail who sat next to him at school. They had gotten their own small house. Nothing in it had been painted white.\n\nThe eye on the loading screen came to a stop as it finished its final rotation, and the pitch black began to fade. Vincent began the sim where he had left off. He was pulling his coat from the hook in the closet. He was walking into a hospital room. He was holding the hand of the woman in the bed. He was listening to the thumping in his chest, to the woman screaming, to the doctor talking in a soothing tone. He was staggering backward and sitting in the chair at the foot of the bed. He was reaching out for a bundle of brown blankets. He was staring down at the tiny wet face of a baby girl, at her button nose, at her clear, unobstructed eyes.\n\nIn that moment, the two camps in Vincent's mind, the irreconcilable passions directly at war with one another, the resolutions both for and against the creators of the Lenses, were joined. There was no force needed to keep them intertwined. They were inseparable, had _been_ inseparable all along. He felt foolish now for having denied himself the peace of their union all this time, foolish for staving off the clarity with which he now saw.\n\nHe held the little girl tighter than before, but he frowned when he noticed her lack of movement. She seemed suddenly solid in his arms.\n\nJessica, too, was still as a statue, expression frozen in a red-faced grin, bedsheets as stiff as carved marble.\n\nVincent scanned the room for some rendering line of black, some unforgivable glitch in the sim, but his surroundings were as full and real as they had ever been. The only difference now was a slight weight lain over his eyes, an inescapable chill pressing on his pupils.\n\nHe jumped and spun around when he saw movement to his left. In the seat next to him sat a woman with sharp and keen features, a tall, thin frame, and an unreadable face that hadn't aged a day.\n\n\"Lynn?\" he said.\n\nLynn smiled a tight grin. Her body flickered like a projection, as if taxed in and out of existence by the effort of movement. \"It has taken you a long time, Vincent.\"\n\n\"Why are you here?\" he asked.\n\n\"More than fourteen years.\"\n\n\"I don't want to talk to you.\"\n\n\"All squandered in a false life.\"\n\nVincent stared at her with ice in his gaze, then turned back to the little girl in his arms. \"What have you done to her? To Jessica?\"\n\nLynn ignored the question, smiling down at the child instead. \"She's perfect, isn't she?\"\n\nVincent pulled the bundle of blankets closer to his chest.\n\n\"She's everything you could have dreamed,\" continued Lynn. \"Everything you _did_ dream.\"\n\n\"I want you to leave,\" said Vincent.\n\nThe voice of the nurse responded instead of Lynn. \"Vincent?\"\n\nLynn didn't take her eyes off him. \"You must see clearly.\"\n\n\"I want you to leave,\" he said again.\n\n\"You must see clearly, Vincent.\" Her words came out garbled and just a fraction behind her lips, her body flickered worse than before.\n\n\"Vincent?\" the nurse called to him again. He could hear her footsteps, could feel the warmth returning to his Lenses.\n\n\"You must see—\" Lynn disappeared and the room was once again filled with movement, but before Vincent could recover, he was back in his all-white bed and the heat was back in his eyes. The nurse stood over him beaming from ear to ear.\n\n\"Your treatment is complete,\" she said. \"You're free to go. Would you like me to call you a transport?\"\n\nVincent made no response. He could hear only the echo of Lynn's voice in his head. Not her words, just her voice, just her indiscernible drone like that of an annoying gnat. Whatever taunting news she carried of his treatment was a mere interruption. It was nothing compared to the fluttering thump in his chest while he gazed at Jessica, the joyful wetness of his eyes while he held the little girl...\n\n\"Vincent,\" the nurse prompted him again. \"Would you like a transport?\"\n\nVincent shook his head. There was no transport that could take him to the hospital he had just left. Only the slips of glass over his eyes could do that.\n\nThe nurse started for the hall with a smile, and by the time she had passed through the door, Vincent's mind had dissolved of all thoughts of Lynn, and his Lenses were again thick with mist.\n\n* * * * * *\n\nLynn emerged from the Newlife simulation feeling out of breath. She drank in the damp, soil-smelling air in ragged gulps, as if having just resurfaced from a long dive.\n\nShe sat in a dim office in a tunnel made of dirt. Where there weren't old-fashioned computer screens, wires hung from the walls in great bundles, and antiquated yellow lightbulbs from the ceiling on flimsy-looking wires.\n\nNext to her was a woman of similar age, but who looked much worse because of it. Her skin was bleached with a spectral pallor, her black hair streaked with strands of wilting gray, and her broad face fixed into a permanent, weathered frown.\n\n\"Did the gap in surveillance hold out?\" she asked Lynn.\n\n\"We're safe.\" Lynn stared at the black screen in front of her without standing. \"Newsight was blind.\"\n\n\"Then why didn't you tell him?\"\n\n\"You know it's not that simple. Newlife would read it in his thoughts.\"\n\nThe woman's expression soured. She glanced at the screen. \"We can't wait much longer.\"\n\n\"We've waited fifty years.\"\n\n\"But with the product perfected Newsight can—\"\n\nLynn held up a hand for silence. \"I, of all people do not need reminded of the timeline. It is of my department's creation.\"\n\nThe woman frowned, eyes still on the screen, cracked lips parted in a silent protest. Lynn softened.\n\n\"We'll be all right, Ruth. I'm doing everything I can. You know how great of a risk it was for me to come here.\"\n\nRuth looked ready to answer when the screen in front of them flickered to life. It showed the hospital room with Vincent and Jessica and the girl.\n\n\"Jessica really is beautiful,\" said Lynn. \"She has your eyes.\"\n\nRuth turned from the screen, blinking rapidly, and changed the subject. \"What do we do with Vincent?\"\n\n\"We'll have to clear another surveillance gap.\" Lynn watched the feed as she spoke, saw Vincent pass the child back to Jessica, saw the vibrant smile on his lips. \"But for now, let him be.\"\n\nLeaving Ruth to resume her station in front of the monitor, Lynn stood from her seat and started down the tunnel. She traversed the passage in silence until coming to a thick, sliding wooden door. Once past it, she heard nothing but the pecking of keyboards and prattle of voices.\n\nThe room was shaped like an enormous, underground cafeteria, with long, rusted tables running from wall to wall, and with well over a hundred men and women to line them. Only here, instead of lunch trays, the people bent over dirt-streaked laptops.\n\nA grubby man with a kind face spun around when he saw Lynn. He muttered his farewell, and as she passed, several others did the same. A smile rose to Lynn's lips as she walked, not so much at the workers' short words as at their eyes. Though all were worn at the edges with crow's feet and circled underneath by purple bags, and though bloodshot from staring at their screens and dilated from endless hours of effort, they were brilliantly bright. For in their stares there was no blur or distortion of color, no leech-like lines or flickering glass rims – there was only the Lens-less glow of hope.\nThanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed the story. If you did, I have good news: there's a whole world left to be explored. I have two more books in the works: the story of how John infiltrated the Newsight HQ, and the Newsight origin story. You can check out sample chapters of each at masonengel.com/next.\n\nThanks again!\n\nMason\nABOUT THE AUTHOR\n\nMason Engel is a 23-year-old science-fiction writer from Columbus, Indiana. Though he graduated from Purdue University with a degree in mathematics, Mason is obsessed with the power of words and the stories they tell.\n", "meta": {"pile_set_name": "BookCorpus2"}}
{"text": " \nI would quote John Bunyan as an instance of what I mean. Read anything of [John Bunyan's] and you will see that it is almost like reading the Bible itself. He had read it till his very soul was saturated with Scripture; and, though his writings are charmingly full of poetry, yet he cannot give us his Pilgrim's Progress — that sweetest of all prose poems — without continually making us feel and say, 'Why, this man is a living Bible!' Prick him anywhere; his blood is Bibline; the very essence of the Bible flows from him. He cannot speak without quoting a text, for his very soul is full of the Word of God. I commend his example to you, beloved.\n\nCharles Spurgeon\n\nIt was during this second detention that he wrote the work which has set him finally among the English immortals, The Pilgrim's Progress. Many controversies have raged as to whether he owed the allegorical type of narrative to anything before him, but all the allegories mentioned in this connection are almost as unlike The Pilgrim's Progress as they are unlike Vanity Fair. The Elstow tinker produced an original thing, if an original thing was ever produced. Nothing stronger can be said of it than that it dwarfs altogether into insignificance Grace Abounding published before it, and The Holy War published afterwards.\n\nG. K. Chesterton\n\nAnyone who is honestly trying to be a Christian will soon find his intelligence sharpened; one of the reasons why it needs no special education to be a Christian is that Christianity is an education itself. That is why an uneducated believer like Bunyan was able to write a book that has astonished the whole world.\n\nC. S. Lewis\n\nJohn Owen, probably the most prominent and respected academic leader of Bunyan's own era, once went to hear Bunyan preach. Charles II, hearing of it, asked the learned doctor of divinity why someone as thoroughly educated as he would want to hear a mere tinker preach. Owen replied, \"May it please your Majesty, if I could possess the tinker's abilities to grip men's hearts, I would gladly give in exchange all my learning.\"\n\nCharles II, king of Great Britain\n\nBattle Between the Mansoulians and Diabolonians\n\nThe Holy War\n\nMade by Shaddai upon Diabolus for the   \nRegaining of the Metropolis of the World\n\nJohn Bunyan\n\nContents\n\nPreface\n\nTo the Reader\n\nCh. 1: Mansoul: Its Origin\n\nCh. 2: The Fall of Mansoul\n\nCh. 3: The Enslavement of Mansoul\n\nCh. 4: The King's Message of Mercy\n\nCh. 5: Shaddai Sends His Army\n\nCh. 6: The King's Offer\n\nCh. 7: Winter in Mansoul\n\nCh. 8: Diabolus Offers Compromise\n\nCh. 9: The Coming of Emmanuel\n\nCh. 10: Emmanuel Remains Firm\n\nCh. 11: Emmanuel Confronts Diabolus\n\nCh. 12: Emmanuel's Victory\n\nCh. 13: Petitions from Prison\n\nCh. 14: Prisoners Set Free\n\nCh. 15: Emmanuel Enters Mansoul\n\nCh. 16: Mansoul Made New\n\nCh. 17: Trials of the Diabolians\n\nCh. 18: Mansoul Is Brought to Order\n\nCh. 19: Deceived by Carnal-Security\n\nCh. 20: Godly-Fear Speaks Out\n\nCh. 21: Diabolus's Plan\n\nCh. 22: Diabolians Prepare for War\n\nCh. 23: Mansoul Prepares\n\nCh. 24: Drummings and Deceit\n\nCh. 25: Attack on Mansoul\n\nCh. 26: Petition to the Prince\n\nCh. 27: Plans to Take the Castle\n\nCh. 28: Battle on the Plains\n\nCh. 29: Emmanuel Restored to Mansoul\n\nCh. 30: Final Attack\n\nCh. 31: Judgment Day\n\nCh. 32: Emmanuel's Message\n\nBonus Section: The Life of John Bunyan\n\nGlossary of Names Used in The Holy War\n\nAbout the Author\n\n\"I have used similitudes.\" I have also spoken by the prophets, and I have multiplied visions, and used similitudes, by the hand of the prophets. (Hosea 12:10)\n\nPreface\n\nIn the year 1682, Dorman Newman published a volume at the King's Arms in the Poultry, and Benjamin Alsop published the same manuscript at the Angel and Bible in the Poultry. This book was entitled The Holy War Made by King Shaddai Upon Diabolus, to Regain the Metropolis of the World, or The Losing and Taking Again of the Town of Mansoul. It was the work of John Bunyan, who had published the story of his own spiritual struggle sixteen years before, under the title of Grace Abounding to the Chief of Sinners, and had produced The Pilgrim's Progress (Part 1) four years before. Bunyan quickly followed The Pilgrim's Progress with the Life and Death of Mr. Badman, a grimly factual picture of English life and character as seen through his eyes.\n\nIn The Holy War, Bunyan returned to allegory, and as a piece of literature, the book is in no way inferior to The Pilgrim's Progress. If Bunyan had written nothing else, The Holy War would have established his place among the masters of English prose. In its appeal to the conscience, it is no less effective than The Pilgrim's Progress; however, it is not as successful at holding the reader's attention. Nevertheless, Macaulay suggests that if there had been no Pilgrim's Progress, then The Holy War would have been the first of religious allegories.\n\nIn working out the details of The Holy War, Bunyan seems to have kept in mind his own experience. The fortifications of the city, the movements of opposing forces, and the changes in the municipal offices of Mansoul were reproductions of scenes and events he had recently witnessed. He adapted these real-life experiences with extraordinary success and used them to present the doctrine of grace and the temptations present in the Christian life.\n\nThe characters and the incidents are, in effect, the characters and incidents of every age. This element gives the story of Mansoul an undying freshness, which suits the needs of men throughout the world. The Holy War has been translated into many languages, including some with very little literature. (As the 1907 edition was being prepared for the press, the Religious Tract Society helped with the printing of The Holy War in Kongo.)\n\n– A. R. Buckland\n\nTo the Reader\n\n'Tis strange to me, that they who love to tell\n\nThings done of old, yes, and who do excel\n\nTheir equals in the knowledge of history,\n\nDo not speak of Mansoul's wars, but let them lie\n\nDead, like old fables, like such worthless things,\n\nKnowledge of which no advantage brings.\n\nLet men make what they will their own,\n\nBut till they know this, to themselves are unknown.\n\nOf stories, I well know there are various sorts,\n\nSome foreign, some domestic, and some reports\n\nCreated and written as thought leads the writers:\n\n(By books a man may speculate about the composers)\n\nSome will repeat that which never was,\n\nNor will be, to tear it down (and that without a cause)\n\nSuch subjects raise mountains from things small, tell such things\n\nOf men, of laws, of countries, and kings.\n\nWhile their story seems to be quite sage,\n\nSuch gravity clothes every page,\n\nThough their front illustration says all is vain,\n\nYet, in this way, disciples they obtain.\n\nBut, readers, I have other important things to do,\n\nThan to write worthless stories to thus trouble you.\n\nWhat I say here, some men know so well,\n\nThey can with tears of joy the story tell.\n\nThe town of Mansoul is well known to many,\n\nHer troubles are not doubted by any\n\nBe familiar with those histories and reflect\n\nThat Mansoul and her wars dissect.\n\nThen lend your ear to hear what I relate,\n\nRegarding the town of Mansoul and her state.\n\nHow she was lost, took captive, made a slave,\n\nAnd set against Him who would her save;\n\nHow by hostile ways she did oppose\n\nHer Lord, and with his enemy arose.\n\nFor it is true: he that will them deny\n\nMust then the best of records vilify.\n\nFor my part, I myself was in the town,\n\nBoth when 'twas set up, and falling down.\n\nI saw Diabolus take Mansoul into his possession,\n\nAnd cause her to live under his oppression.\n\nYes, I was there when she avowed him as Lord,\n\nAnd to him did submit with one accord.\n\nWhen Mansoul trampled upon things divine,\n\nAnd wallowed in filth as does a swine;\n\nThen she actually resorted to arms,\n\nFought Emmanuel; abhorred His charms.\n\nI admit I was there, and rejoiced to see\n\nDiabolus and Mansoul so agree.\n\nLet no men, then, deem me a fable-maker,\n\nNor mark my name or credit me a partaker.\n\nOf their derision: what is here in view,\n\nFrom my own knowledge, I dare say is true.\n\nI saw the Prince's armed men come down\n\nBy troops, by thousands, to besiege the town;\n\nI saw the captains, heard the trumpets sound,\n\nAnd how his forces covered all the ground.\n\nYes, how they set themselves in battle array,\n\nI shall remember it to my dying day.\n\nI saw the colored flags waving in the wind,\n\nAnd the intent on harm from those within\n\nTo ruin Mansoul and to take away\n\nHer very soul without delay.\n\nI saw the mounts cast up against the town,\n\nAnd how the slings were placed to beat it down.\n\nI heard the stones whizz by my ears,\n\nA sound I won't forget; filled me with fears.\n\nI heard them fall, and saw what work they made\n\nAnd how old Mors did cover with his shade\n\nThe face of Mansoul; and I heard her cry,\n\n\"Woe be the day, in dying I shall die!\"\n\nI saw the battering rams in the great raid\n\nBeat open Ear-gate; and I was much afraid.\n\nNot only Ear-gate, but the very town\n\nWould by those battering rams be beaten down.\n\nI saw the fights, heard the captains shout,\n\nAnd in each battle saw who faced about.\n\nI saw those wounded and who were slain;\n\nAnd who, when dead, would come to life again.\n\nI heard the cries of those wounded call out,\n\nWhile others like men deprived of fear, fought about.\n\nAnd while the cry, 'Kill, kill,' was in my ears,\n\nThe gutters ran, not so much with blood as tears.\n\nIndeed, the captains did not always fight,\n\nBut then they still troubled us day and night;\n\nTheir cry, \"Up, fall on, let us take the town,\"\n\nKept us from sleeping or from lying down.\n\nI was there when the gates were broken ope,\n\nAnd saw how Mansoul was stripped of hope;\n\nI saw the captains march into the town,\n\nHow they fought and their foes cut down.\n\nI heard the Prince bid Boanerges go\n\nUp to the castle and there seize his foe;\n\nAnd saw him and his fellows bring him down,\n\nIn chains of great contempt through the town.\n\nI saw Emmanuel, when He possessed\n\nHis town of Mansoul; and how greatly blest.\n\nOh, how splendid His town of Mansoul was,\n\nWhen she received His pardon and loved His laws.\n\nWhen the Diabolians were caught,\n\nWhen tried, and when to execution brought,\n\nThen I was there; yes, I was standing by\n\nWhen Mansoul the rebels did crucify.\n\nI also saw Mansoul clad all in white,\n\nI heard her Prince call her His heart's delight.\n\nI saw Him put upon her chains of gold,\n\nRings, and bracelets, pleasant to behold.\n\nWhat shall I say? I heard the people's cries,\n\nSaw the Prince wipe tears from Mansoul's eyes.\n\nI heard the groans but saw the joy of many,\n\nTell you about it all, neither will nor can I.\n\nBut by what I say here, you well may see\n\nThat Mansoul's matchless wars no fables be.\n\nWith Mansoul, the desire of both princes was:\n\nOne would keep his gain, t'other gain his loss.\n\nDiabolus would cry, \"The town is mine!\"\n\nEmmanuel would plead a right divine\n\nUnto His Mansoul then to blows they go,\n\nAnd Mansoul cries, \"These wars will me undo.\"\n\nMansoul, her wars seemed endless in her eyes,\n\nShe's lost by one, becomes another's prize.\n\nAnd he again who lost her last would swear,\n\n\"Have her I will or into pieces I'll tear.\"\n\nMansoul, it was the very seat of war;\n\nTherefore, her troubles greater were by far\n\nThan only where the noise of war is heard,\n\nOr where the shaking of a sword is feared;\n\nOr only where small skirmishes are fought,\n\nOr where the false notion fights with a thought.\n\nShe saw the swords of fighting men made red,\n\nAnd heard cries of those wounded and bled.\n\nMust not her frights, then, be much more by far\n\nThan theirs who to such doings strangers are?\n\nOr theirs who hear the beating of a drum,\n\nBut, for fear, do not flee from house and home?\n\nMansoul not only heard the trumpet's sound,\n\nBut saw her brave gasping on the ground.\n\nTherefore, we must not think that she could rest,\n\nWith them, whose greatest longing is but jest.\n\nOr where the blustering threatening of great fights,\n\nEnd in discussions of mutual concern or debates.\n\nMansoul, her mighty wars, they did portend\n\nHer strength or grief and that world without end.\n\nTherefore, she must be more concerned than they\n\nWhose fears begin and end the selfsame day.\n\nOr where no other harm comes to him\n\nWho is engaged but loss of life or limb.\n\nAs all need to confess who now do dwell\n\nIn heaven and earth and can this story tell.\n\nDo not count me with them who to amaze\n\nSet the people's eyes on the stars to gaze,\n\nInsinuating with much confidence,\n\nThat each of them is now the residence\n\nOf some brave creatures as if for a world they will\n\nHave in each a star, though it be past their skill.\n\nTo make it clearly visible to man in any case,\n\nEither by reason or that his fingers can embrace.\n\nBut I have too long held you in the porch,\n\nAnd kept you from the sunshine with a torch.\n\nWell, go forward now; step within the door,\n\nAnd there behold five hundred times much more.\n\nOf all such rarities seated in the mind and soul\n\nThat will both please the mind and feed the eyes.\n\nWith those, which, if a Christian, you will see\n\nNot small but things of greatest value be.\n\nNor should you go to work without my key;\n\nFor in mysteries men soon lose their way;\n\nFor it can help turn it right if you would know\n\nMy riddle, and would with my heifer plough;\n\nIt lies there in the window. Fare thee well,\n\nMy next may be to ring thy passing bell.\n\n– John Bunyan\n\nChapter 1\n\nMansoul: Its Origin\n\nIn my travels, as I walked through many regions and countries, I happened upon that famous continent of Universe. This very large and spacious country lies between the two poles, amid the four points of the heavens, and is well watered, richly adorned with hills and valleys, and splendidly located. For the most part, at least where I was, this country was fruitful, well populated, and blessed with clean, sweet air.\n\nThe people are diverse with different skin colors, languages, customs, and ways of religion. They differ as much as the planets differ one from another. Some are right and some are wrong, even as it happens to be in lesser regions.\n\nI had the fortune to travel in this country, for my Master sent me there to do business for Him and oversee business done. I spent enough time there that I learned much of the people's mother tongue and their customs and manners. And, to tell the truth, it delighted me very much to see and hear many things among them. I even lived and died a native among them, for I was so enamored with them and their ways.\n\nNow in this fine and noble country of Universe, an honest town is regulated by the close observance of a proprietor, a united people called Mansoul. This town is known for its buildings, which are artfully crafted with care, and its location, which is convenient and easily adapted to meet the wants and needs of those who live there. Mansoul is also recognized for its privileges and profitable origin. Just like the continent on which it is placed, this town has no equal under the whole heaven.\n\nThe location of this town is between the two worlds and, according to the best and most authentic records, its founder and builder was one Shaddai. He built it for His own delight, and the pattern and splendor were beyond anything else He did in that country. (Thou art worthy, O Lord, to receive glory and honour and virtue; for thou hast created all things, and by thy will they have their being and were created. – Revelation 4:11) Mansoul was such a pleasant town that when He first built it, some said the gods came down to see it and sang for joy. As much as He made it enjoyable to look at, He also made it mighty – to have dominion over all the country around it. All were commanded to acknowledge Mansoul as their capital and were commanded to do homage to it. Yes, the town itself had a direct mandate and power from her King to demand service of all and subdue any who in any way denied the command.\n\nIn the midst of this town stood a most famous and stately palace. For its strength, it might be called a castle; for its pleasantness, a paradise; for largeness, a place so copious as to contain all the world. King Shaddai intended this place for Himself alone, partly because of His own delights and partly because He didn't want the terror of strangers to fall upon the town. Shaddai also made a stronghold of this place but gave charge of its keeping to the men of the town.\n\nThe walls of the town were well built, fixed and solid and compactly knit together. Had it not been for the townsmen themselves, these walls would have remained forever and could not have been shaken or broken. For He who built Mansoul, in His excellent wisdom, fashioned the walls so they could never be broken down or damaged by even the mightiest adversarial potentate, unless the townsmen gave consent. (Who shall separate us from the charity of Christ? shall tribulation or distress or persecution or famine or nakedness or peril or sword? Nevertheless, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us. Therefore I am certain that neither death nor life nor angels nor principalities nor powers nor things present nor things to come nor height nor depth nor any creature shall be able to separate us from the charity of God, which is in Christ, Jesus our Lord. – Romans 8:35, 37-39)\n\nThis famous town of Mansoul had five gates used to enter and exit. These were built in conformity with the walls; that is to say, they were impregnable. They could not be opened or forced by any outsider but only by the will and permission of those within. The names of the gates were Ear-gate, Eye-gate, Mouth-gate, Nose-gate, and Feel-gate.\n\nOther things found in the town of Mansoul will give you an even clearer picture of the glory and strength of the place. The town always had sufficient means of provision within its walls. It had the best, most wholesome, and excellent Law that existed in the whole world. Not a mean fellow, dishonest rogue, or faithless person could be found within its walls. All were honest, faithful men and tightly united; and this is an important matter. (Blessed are those who walk in the perfect way, who walk in the law of the LORD. – Psalm 119:1) As long as Mansoul had the goodness to keep true to Shaddai the King, these men enjoyed His favor, His protection, and they were His delight.\n\nAfter a time, a mighty giant by the name of Diabolus made an assault upon this famous town of Mansoul to overtake it and make it his own. This giant was king of the dark world and a raving, mad prince. Before we talk of his taking of this famous town of Mansoul, if you please, we will first discuss the origin of this Diabolus.\n\nWhile Diabolus was a great and mighty prince, he was also both poor and beggarly. As to his origin, he was once one of the servants of King Shaddai, created and placed by Him in a high and mighty position. Yes, Diabolus was granted superiority and power such as belonged to the best of Shaddai's territories and dominions. This Diabolus was made \"son of the morning,\" and granted a dignified place, which brought him much glory and gave him much brightness. (Thou hast been in Eden the garden of God; every precious stone was thy covering: the sardius, topaz, diamond, turquoise, onyx, and beryl, the sapphire, ruby, and emerald, and gold; the works of the tambourines and of thy pipes were prepared in thee in the day that thou wast created. – Ezekiel 28:13)\n\nHis position also presented him with an income that might have contented his Luciferian heart had it not been insatiable and as enlarged as hell itself. He saw himself exalted to this degree of greatness and honor, and he desired more.\n\nHis mind raged for a higher rank of honor and distinction. He began to think about how he might gain the position of lord over all and have sole power under Shaddai. (Thou who said in thine heart, I will ascend into heaven; upon high next to the stars of God I will exalt my throne: and I will sit upon the mount of the testimony and in the sides of the north; I will ascend above the heights of the clouds; I will be like the most High. – Isaiah 14:13-14)\n\nHowever, the King reserved that position for His Son and had already bestowed it upon Him. (Therefore, God also has highly exalted him [His Son] and given him a name which is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of things in heaven and things in earth and things under the earth, and that every tongue should confess that the Lord Jesus Christ is Lord in the glory of God the Father. – Philippians 2:9-11)\n\nBefore Diabolus made a move, he considered how best to accomplish his goal and then shared his thoughts with some of his companions. They agreed with him, and together they discussed this issue with cunning. They planned how they could attempt to destroy the King's Son, so the inheritance might become theirs. (But when the husbandmen saw the son, they said among themselves, This is the heir; come, let us kill him, and let us take his inheritance. – Matthew 21:38)\n\nTo keep it short, they determined to commit treason and decided on the appointed time. Then together they vowed to accomplish it. The rebels assembled in a predetermined place and attempted the assault.\n\nNow the King and His Son, being all-seeing, could not help but perceive every incident that occurred in their dominions. The King always loved His Son and was greatly provoked and offended by what He saw. Therefore, He took out the rebels at the very time they made their first trip to carry out their plan. He convicted them of the treason, horrid rebellion, and conspiracy they had devised and were attempting to put into practice. As a group, He cast them out of all places of trust, benefit, honor, and higher office. With this done, He banished them from the King's residence, turned them upside down, and dropped them into the horrible pit where He bound them firmly in chains, never again to expect the least favor from His hands. There they would abide the judgment He had appointed forever. (And the angels who did not keep their first estate but left their own habitation, he has reserved in eternal chains under darkness unto the judgment of the great day. – Jude 1:6)\n\nDiabolus Cast Out of Heaven\n\nAfter they had been cast out and banished from His residence and thrown into the horrible pit, they knew they had lost their Prince's favor forever, being removed from all places of trust, profit, and honor. You can rest assured they now added malice and rage against Shaddai and against His Son to their former pride. Therefore, they walked about in much fury from place to place, methodically looking for something belonging to the King and, to retaliate against Him, render it useless.\n\nAt last, without knowing where they were going, the rebels came into this spacious country of Universe and directed their course towards the town of Mansoul. They knew that town to be one of the significant works and delights of King Shaddai, so they devised a plan and made an assault against it.\n\nThe reason they knew Mansoul belonged to Shaddai was that they were there when He built it and adorned it for Himself. So when they found the place, they shouted horribly for joy and roared like a lion upon its prey: \"Now we have found the prize, the way to attain revenge on King Shaddai for what He has done to us!\" (Be temperate and vigilant because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walks about, seeking whom he may devour. – 1 Peter 5:8) They called a council of war and sat down to discuss what ways and methods were best to engage Mansoul in order to win this famous town for themselves. These four ideas were offered for consideration:\n\nFirst, they questioned whether all of them should show themselves in this scheme to take the town of Mansoul.\n\nSecondly, they talked about whether they should go and sit down before Mansoul, dressed in the ragged and beggarly guise they now wore.\n\nThirdly, they discussed whether it would be prudent to reveal their intentions to Mansoul and the plan they had designed or whether they should attack it with words and deceitful means.\n\nFourthly, they deliberated over whether it would be better if some among them were given secret orders to shoot the principal townsmen, if they saw them. For in this way, they decided their cause and plan would advance more effectively.\n\nThe first of these proposals they decided against, for they determined it would not be best if they all revealed themselves before the town, because the appearance of so many might alarm and frighten the town. They determined a few or perhaps only one of them should show themselves so as not to frighten or alarm Mansoul in this way. However, Diabolus said, \"It is impossible for us to take the town, for no one can enter it without its owner's consent. Therefore, let there be but a few – or only one – who assaults Mansoul.\" Diabolus gauged his companions' reactions and said, \"And in my opinion, it should be me.\" They all offered hearty nods and agreed to this plan.\n\nTo the second proposal, they discussed whether they should sit down before Mansoul in their ragged and beggarly appearance. \"Certainly not,\" the fierce Alecto said. For though Mansoul knew about them and had even dealt with things invisible, they had never been seen in such a sad and vile condition as theirs.\n\nThen Apollyon said, \"The advice is pertinent.\" He smeared his bony fingers across the chest of his beggarly rags. \"For even one of us appearing to them as we are now would generate and multiply anxious thoughts within them, which will make them worry and cause them to be cautious and watchful on all sides. And if that happens, then, as my Lord Diabolus said just now, there is no reason for us to think of taking the town.\"\n\nThe Advice of Apollyon\n\nThen the mighty giant Beelzebub ignored the flies attracted to his stench as they crawled along his neck and head. \"The advice already given is safe, for though the men of Mansoul have seen such things as we once were, until now they've never beheld such things as we have become. It is best, in my opinion, to come upon them in such a guise as is common and more familiar among them.\"\n\nWhen they had all consented to this, the next thing to be determined was what shape, color, or guise Diabolus should take to show himself when he went about to make Mansoul his own. One said one thing and another suggested something else. At last, Lucifer answered that he thought it was best that his lordship, Diabolus, assume the body of a creature that the town had dominion over. (For every nature of beasts and of birds and of serpents and of beings in the sea may be tamed and is tamed by mankind. – James 3:7)\n\n\"These aren't just familiar to people of the town of Mansoul, but being under their authority, they will never suspect an attempt upon the town would be made by such creatures. To dim their understanding, let him assume the body of one of those beasts Mansoul deems wiser than any of the rest.\"\n\nEvery one of the ghoulish rebels applauded this advice. So it was determined the giant Diabolus should assume the form of a dragon, for dragons in those days were as familiar to the town of Mansoul as a bird is to a boy now. (Behold now Behemoth, which I made with thee; he eats grass as an ox. Behold now, his strength is in his loins, and his force is in the navel of his belly. He is the beginning of the ways of God; he that made him shall make his sword draw near unto him. – Job 40:15-16, 19)\n\nWhen they came to the third proposal of whether they should make their intentions known or adhere to the method Diabolus intended to use, the rebels quickly decided to do neither. For the previous discussion reminded them that the inhabitants of Mansoul were a strong people in a strong town, whose wall and gates were impregnable (to say nothing of their castle). It also reminded them of the fact that these people could not be won by any means other than their own consent.\n\n\"Besides,\" Legion said, \"if they discover our intentions, they may send to their King for aid. If they do that, I know very well what it will mean for us. For this reason, let us assault them with the false appearance of fairness, covering our true intentions with all manner of lies, flatteries, and deceptive words; feigning things that never will be, and promising that which they shall never find. This is the way to win Mansoul and make them open their gates to us and even make them desire us to come in to them.\n\n\"The reason I think this approach will be best is that the people of Mansoul are all simple and innocent. Every one of them is honest and true, and they don't even know what it is to be assaulted with deception, cunning, and hypocrisy. They are strangers to lying and misleading lips. Therefore, we won't be detected by them at all, if disguised in this way. Our lies shall be accepted as true sayings, and our counterfeit transactions as upright dealings. What we promise them, they will believe, especially if we pretend to have great love for them and that our intention is only for their benefit and honor, as we deliver all our lies and contrived words.\" (For these false apostles are deceitful workers, transforming themselves into apostles of Christ. And it is no marvel, for Satan himself transforms himself into an angel of light. – 2 Corinthians 11:13-14)\n\nFor a moment, the rebels sat in silence. Not one offered a reply against this advice, and its acceptance moved things along like a current of water flowing down a steep descent. They went on to consider the last proposal, which was whether it was best to give orders to various members of their company to shoot some of the principal townsmen, if they judged that it would promote their cause.\n\nThis proposal carried with unanimous agreement, and the townsman designated to be destroyed by this stratagem was Captain Resistance. He was a great man in Mansoul and one whom the giant Diabolus and his band feared more than they feared the whole town.\n\nThat brought them to the next question: Who should perform the murder? They appointed one Tisiphone, a fury of the lake, to do the deed. Thus, they ended their council of war, rose up, and attempted to do as they had determined. They all marched towards Mansoul in an invisible form – except for one and only one. And that one did not approach the town in his own likeness but rather under the guise and in the body of the dragon.\n\nThey drew up and sat before Ear-gate, the place of hearing from all outside the town, as Eye-gate was the place for viewing objects outside the gate. So, as I said, he came up to the gate to trick the people of Mansoul and to put in place his secret attack on Captain Resistance. With all in place, the giant in dragon form ascended close to the gate and called to the town of Mansoul for an audience in order to lure Captain Resistance within bowshot of the town. The only one he took with him was one Ill-Pause, who was his orator in all difficult matters.\n\nDiabolus and His Companions Seek Mansoul\n\nChapter 2\n\nThe Fall of Mansoul\n\nNow, as I said, Diabolus, in dragon form, arrived at the gate in the manner of those times and sounded his trumpet for an audience. This brought the leaders of the town of Mansoul, including Lord Innocent, Lord Willbewill, Lord Mayor Understanding, Mr. Recorder, and Captain Resistance, down to the wall to see who was there and what they wanted. Lord Willbewill, when he looked and saw who stood at the gate, demanded to know what he was, for what reason he had come, and why he aroused the town of Mansoul with such an unusual sound.\n\nDiabolus, as if a lamb, began his speech and said, \"Gentlemen of the famous town of Mansoul, as you can see, I am not one who lives far from you but near. I am one who is bound by the King to do homage and what service I can for you. In order that I may be faithful to myself and to you, I have somewhat of a concern to report to you. I'm asking you to grant me the opportunity to appear before you and to hear me patiently. And before I say anything, let me assure you, it is not for myself but for you – not for my benefit but yours – that I seek to speak with you. This will be made very clear once I share what's on my mind. For, gentlemen, to tell you the truth, I have come to show you how you may obtain great deliverance from a bondage which holds you captive and which you are enslaved under, and yet you are unaware of.\"\n\nAt this, the town of Mansoul began to prick up their ears. And what is it? Pray what is it? they thought.\n\nAnd Diabolus said, \"I have something to say to you concerning your King, concerning His Law, and also relating to yourselves. Regarding your King, I know He is great and powerful; yet all He has said to you is neither true nor to your advantage.\n\n\"First of all, what He has said is not true. For He has struck you with fear, saying certain consequences shall happen if you do such a thing as He has forbidden, but in fact, it shall not come to pass nor be fulfilled. However, if there is a danger, it is the living in constant slavery of the fear of the greatest of punishments just for doing so small and trivial a thing as eating a little fruit. (And the LORD God commanded the man, saying, Of every tree of the garden thou may freely eat; but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, thou shalt not eat of it; for in the day that thou dost eat of it thou shalt surely die. – Genesis 2:16-17)\n\n\"Secondly, regarding His Laws, I say they are unreasonable, complicated, and intolerable. Unreasonable, as was hinted before, for the punishment does not fit the offense. A great difference and disproportion exists between life and a piece of fruit, yet an individual must apply oneself or face punishment by the Law of your Shaddai.\n\n\"Plus, it is also complicated. First, He says you may eat from all trees, and yet concludes by forbidding the eating from one.\n\n\"And finally, it must also be considered intolerable in view of the fact that the fruit which you are forbidden to eat, if you are truly forbidden, is just that – fruit and nothing else. When you eat it, it is able to supply a benefit to you, which until now is unknown by you. This is obvious by the very name of the tree, which is called the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. Ask yourself, do you have that knowledge as yet? No, you do not, nor can you even imagine how good, how pleasant, and how much it is desired to make one wise, as long as you adhere to your King's commandment. Why should you be bound in ignorance and blindness? Why shouldn't you expand your knowledge and understanding?\n\n\"And now, you inhabitants of the famous town of Mansoul, to speak in a manner principally to you – you are not a free people! You are kept in bondage and slavery by an oppressive threat with no reason connected to it other than, 'So I will have it; so it shall be.'\n\n\"And isn't it burdensome to think that the very thing you are forbidden to do, if you did do it, might yield both wisdom and honor to you? For then your eyes will be opened, and you shall be as gods. (For God knows that in the day ye eat of it then your eyes shall be opened, and ye shall be as gods, knowing good and evil. – Genesis 3:5)\n\n\"Now, since this is the case,\" he tilted his dragon head to the side and asked, \"is it possible for you to be enslaved more or to be in greater bondage by any prince than you are this day? As I have clearly shown you, He has made you nothing more than underlings who are wrapped up in inconveniences, which make things difficult and create disadvantages. For what bondage is greater than to be kept blind to the truth? Doesn't reason itself tell you it is better to have eyes than to be without them, and better to be free than to be shut up in a dark and stinking cave?\"\n\nWhile Diabolus spoke these words to Mansoul, Tisiphone shot at Captain Resistance who stood on the gate and mortally wounded him in the head. To the amazement of the townsmen and with the encouragement of Diabolus, the captain fell quite dead over the wall. Now, Captain Resistance had been the only man of war in the town, and once he was dead, poor Mansoul lacked courage. His death left her without the heart to resist, which was exactly what the Devil had planned all along.\n\nThen Mr. Ill-Pause, whom Diabolus brought along as his orator, stepped forth and addressed the town of Mansoul. The substance of his speech went like this:\n\n\"Gentlemen, my master is happy that today he has enjoyed a quiet and enlightening hearing with you. We hope we shall prevail and you won't cast off good advice. For my master has a very great love for you, and though he clearly knows he runs the hazard of King Shaddai's anger, because of his love for you, he is willing to do even more than that.\n\n\"Nothing else needs to be said to confirm the truth of what he has said, for there is no stronger evidence than the very name of the tree which can put an end to the controversy. At this time, under the authority and with the permission of my lord, I add only this advice to you.\" He bowed very low to Diabolus and said, \"Consider his words; look at the tree and the promising fruit hanging from its branches. Remember also that you only know a little, and the fruit of this tree is the way to know more. And if you still have doubts regarding such good counsel, then you are not the men I took you to be.\"\n\nDiabolus's trick worked. The townsfolk saw the tree was good for food and pleasant to look at, and they desired it. They wanted it to make them wise. And so they did what old Ill-Pause advised. They plucked the fruit from the tree and ate it. (And when the woman saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was desirable to the eyes, and a tree of covetousness to understand, she took of its fruit and ate and gave also unto her husband with her; and he ate. – Genesis 3:6)\n\nNow I should have mentioned this earlier, but when Ill-Pause was making his speech to the townsmen, Lord Innocency fell down dead right there in the place where he stood and could not be brought to life again. It's unknown whether he was shot from the camp of the giant, suffered from some sinking feeling that suddenly overtook him, or whether it was the stinking breath of that treacherous villain, old Ill-Pause; but I tend to think it was most likely the latter.\n\nThus, these two brave men died, Resistance and Innocency – brave men, I say, for they were the beauty and glory of Mansoul while they lived there. Now, there no longer remained a noble spirit in Mansoul, for all the townsmen fell down and yielded obedience to Diabolus, and just as you might expect, they became his slaves and vassals as you shall hear. (No one can serve two masters, for either he will hate the one and love the other or else he will hold to the one and despise the other. – Matthew 6:24)\n\nNow with these brave men dead, what did the rest of the townsfolk do? They acted like men who had found a fool's paradise. As I hinted at earlier, in a short time they fell because they failed to establish the truth of the giant's words. First, they did as Ill-Pause taught them and directed their eyes toward the forbidden fruit. It captivated their thoughts, until they plucked it from the tree and ate it. Once they ate from the tree, they immediately became drunk by it, and as a result, they opened the gates, both Ear-gate and Eye-gate. In this way, they let Diabolus with all his bands into Mansoul, and they quite forgot their good Shaddai, His Law, and the judgment and solemn threat He had connected to any who broke it. (I marvel that ye are so soon removed from him that called you into the grace of Christ unto another gospel, for there is not another; but there are some that trouble you and would pervert the gospel of the Christ. But even if we, or an angel from heaven, were to preach any other gospel unto you than that which we have preached unto you, let him be anathema. – Galatians 1:6-8)\n\nChapter 3\n\nThe Enslavement of Mansoul\n\nAfter Diabolus gained entry at the gates of the town, he marched up to the middle of Mansoul to make his conquest as certain as he could. As he did, he found the affections of the people warmly inclined toward him and figured it was best to take advantage of the situation, so he made another deceptive speech to them.\n\n\"Alas, my poor Mansoul,\" he said. \"I have done this service to raise you to a position of honor and increase your freedom, but now you'll want someone to defend you. For I'm sure when Shaddai hears what has happened, He will come. He will be sorry you have broken His bonds and have flung His cords away. So what will you do? After expanding your knowledge, will you allow your privileges to be infringed upon and taken away? If not, what will you resolve to do?\"\n\nThen all in one accord they said to him, \"Please, we want you to reign over us.\" (But the thing displeased Samuel when they said, Give us a king to judge us. ... And the LORD said unto Samuel, Hearken unto the voice of the people in all that they say unto thee, for they have not rejected thee, but they have rejected me that I should not reign over them. – 1 Samuel 8:6-7)\n\nSo he accepted the proposal and became the king of the town of Mansoul. After this was accomplished, the next thing was to give him possession of the castle and with it all of the town's strength. Therefore, he entered the castle which Shaddai had built in Mansoul for His own delight and pleasure, and it became a den and hold for the giant Diabolus.\n\nOnce he had possession of this grand palace, he turned it into a military base for himself, and made preparations to strengthen and fortify it with all sorts of provisions against the King Shaddai and any others who would endeavor to regain it for Him and restore obedience to His Law again.\n\nDiabolus still didn't think his position secure enough, however. He thought about how he might refashion the town by installing one influential person and deposing another as he pleased. Therefore, he stripped the Lord Mayor, whose name was Understanding, and Mr. Recorder, whose name was Mr. Conscience, of their positions and power.\n\nAs for the Lord Mayor, though he was an understanding man and had complied with the rest of the town of Mansoul in admitting the giant into the town, Diabolus didn't think it best for him to stay in his position of distinction and honor, because he was a seeing man. Therefore, he deprived the Lord Mayor of seeing what he was doing, not only by taking his office and power from him but also by building a high, strong tower. It stood between the sun's light and the windows of Understanding's palace and so darkened his entire house. It blocked the sun so thoroughly that his entire residence was made as black as darkness itself. And Diabolus confined him to his house like a prisoner. Even if he was allowed to leave with an agreed time to return, limitations restricted him from going any farther than the bounds of his property. Due to his alienation from the light, he became like one born blind. And now, even if he had the heart to do something for Mansoul, what could he do? How can I do anything profitable for her? he wondered. As long as Mansoul is under the power and government of Diabolus, the town remains obedient to him. As long as this is the case, it will be impossible for me to help. So Lord Mayor Understanding became a weakness rather than an advantage to the famous town of Mansoul, until the town could be rescued out of Diabolus's hand by a war.\n\nAs for Mr. Recorder, or Mr. Conscience, as he was known, before the town was taken, he was a man well versed in the Law of his King. He was courageous and faithful to speak truth at every opportunity, for he was equipped with a brave tongue and a head filled with sound judgment. Now, Diabolus could not allow such a man as this to continue as he had, for though he had given consent to his coming into the town, Diabolus knew Mr. Recorder would not agree to all the tricks, trials, schemes, and devices he had planned to make him wholly his own.\n\nSo even though Mr. Recorder had fallen from his original standing with his former King, and was pleased with many of the giant's laws and his service, this arrangement would not do, because Recorder was not wholly his. Diabolus knew he would think upon Shaddai now and then and experience dread of His Law; then he would speak against Diabolus with a voice as great as a roaring lion. He would also, at certain times, experience terrible fits that made the whole town of Mansoul shake with his voice. For these reasons the now king of Mansoul could not tolerate him; he feared the Recorder more than any others left alive in the town of Mansoul.\n\nAs I said, Recorder's words shook the whole town like rattling thunder mixed with thunderclaps. Since the giant could not make him wholly his own, what he did was look for any way to corrupt the old gentleman and seduce him from duty and allegiance, and blunt his mind and harden his heart to steer him in the ways of fruitless, empty labor that does no good. And he accomplished his plan. He corrupted the man's morals and purity of character, and little by little drew him into sin and wickedness. (Be not deceived: evil companions corrupt good character. – 1 Corinthians 15:33) Recorder became so defiled he was almost past all consciousness of sin, but this was as far as Diabolus could go. With this accomplished, he started to think of another project.\n\nHe focused on persuading the men of the town that Mr. Conscience was mad and could not be respected or paid attention to. He pointed to his fits and said, \"If he is himself and in his right mind, then why isn't he always this way? But, as all mad folks have fits filled with their raving language, so has this old and foolish gentleman.\"\n\nSo by one means or another, he influenced Mansoul to slight, neglect, and despise whatever Mr. Conscience said; for in addition to what you have already heard, Diabolus had a way to make the old gentleman, when he was merry with drink, contradict and deny what he had affirmed in his fits. This made him appear ridiculous, and it caused the people to disregard him.\n\nAfter all this, Mr. Conscience no longer spoke freely for King Shaddai but rather by force and constraint. At one time he would be hot against something that at another time he would say nothing about. He became so unbalanced in his actions that sometimes he acted as if he were fast asleep and other times like one dead, while the whole town of Mansoul raced after vain, empty endeavors and danced to the tune played by the giant's pipe. (That we no longer be children, tossed to and fro and carried about with every wind of doctrine, by the sleight of men and cunning craftiness, by which they lie in wait to deceive. – Ephesians 4:14)\n\nAs a result, sometimes the message delivered by the thundering voice of the Recorder frightened Mansoul, and people reported it to Diabolus. He told them that what the old gentleman said was not because of love or pity for them. He explained it as a \"foolish fondness he has for prattling about trivial matters\" and that the old man would eventually be quiet again. But in fact, every outcry Mr. Recorder made against the sin of Mansoul was the voice of God in him to them. But Diabolus, the liar and deceiver, twisted the people's perception and forced every argument he could think of to make his position in Mansoul secure.\n\nHe often said, \"Oh Mansoul! Consider that in spite of the old gentleman's rage and the rattle of his high and thundering words, you hear nothing from Shaddai Himself. You see, He doesn't value the loss or rebellion of the town of Mansoul. Neither will He trouble himself with calling His town to a reckoning for their giving themselves to me. He knows that though you were His, now you are lawfully mine. So He now has shaken His hands at us, leaving us one to another.\"\n\nThen he said, \"Consider how I have served you to the greatest extent of my power and with the best I have, could get, or obtain for you in the entire world. Likewise, the laws and customs you are under now and by which you show me reverence yield more comfort and peace for you than the paradise you first possessed. Your freedom, as you very well know, has been expanded by me. I found you a bridled people and freed you. I have laid no restraints on you. I have placed no law, statute, or judgment on you to frighten you. And I call none of you into account for your actions, except the madman – you know who I mean. I have granted each of you the opportunity to live like princes with as little control from me as I myself have from you.\"\n\nIn such a manner, Diabolus quieted the town of Mansoul at the times when the Recorder battered the people with his cursed speeches. For the old gentleman's lectures set the whole town in a rage against him. The crew of scoundrels of Mansoul often called for the Recorder's destruction and, in my hearing, often wished he lived a thousand miles away from them – he and his company, his words, and yes, even the sight of him – especially when they remembered how he threatened, condemned, and severely terrified and afflicted them. But now when they looked at him, all they saw was a man of corrupted character.\n\nHowever, all their ill wishes were fruitless. I don't know how his life was preserved among them, except that it was the power of Shaddai and His wisdom. Besides, his house was as strong as a castle and stood firm as a stronghold in the town. Furthermore, if any of the crew or mob attempted to make the Recorder go away, he could pull open the floodgates and let in such floods as would drown all those around him. (The LORD is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? the LORD is the strength of my life; of whom shall I be afraid? When the wicked, even my enemies and my foes, came upon me to eat up my flesh, they stumbled and fell. – Psalm 27:1-2)\n\nBut I want to leave the subject of Mr. Recorder for now and talk about Lord Willbewill, who had good breeding and was another of those educated elite of the famous town of Mansoul. This Willbewill was as highborn as any man in Mansoul and, if I remember right, owned more land than many of the others. In fact, he had privileges unique to himself in the famous town.\n\nHe was also a man of great strength, determination, and courage, and no one could ignore his influence. But whether he was proud of his estate, privileges, strength, or what, I cannot say, but it was through pride of something that he was as despised as a slave in Mansoul. As a result, he decided to acquire an office under Diabolus, even if it might be as an insignificant ruler or governor.\n\nBeing such a determined individual, he wasted no time. He placed himself to be considered for such a position. When Diabolus made his speech at Ear-gate, Willbewill stepped forward as one of the first to consent to and accept Diabolus's counsel as wholesome. He was also one of the first who was willing to open the gate to let the enemy of Shaddai into the town. As a result, Diabolus felt good will toward him and planned a place for him among his great ones to act in matters of the highest concern, for Diabolus perceived the valor and strength of the man.\n\nHe sent for Willbewill and talked with him about this secret matter in order to set it in his heart; but in this case, it took very little persuasion. For from the beginning, he was willing for Diabolus to be allowed into the town and now proved to be just as willing to serve him. When the tyrant recognized the willingness of Willbewill to serve him and that his mind was inclined to stand with him, Diabolus made him the captain of the castle, governor of the wall, and keeper of the gates of Mansoul.\n\nHis commission included a clause which said nothing could be done in all the town of Mansoul without him. He was second only to Diabolus himself, and nothing could be done except by his will and pleasure.\n\nLord Willbewill Receives His Commission\n\nDiabolus also had Mr. Mind for his clerk. This man spoke on every matter like his master, for he and his lord were unified in principle and not far apart in practice. As a result, Mansoul was brought under the influence of the plan and made to fulfill the lusts of the will and of the mind.\n\nBut I cannot stop thinking about what an eager one this Willbewill was when power was put into his hand. First, he flatly denied he owed any obedience or service to his former Prince and faithful Lord. Once he did this, he also took an oath and swore loyalty and faithfulness to his great master Diabolus. With this done, he was advanced and settled in to his new rank and higher position, and you wouldn't believe the strange work this workman accomplished in the town of Mansoul, unless you witnessed it with your own eyes.\n\nFirst, Willbewill slandered Mr. Recorder (Conscience) to death, and he wouldn't even look at him or listen to the words of his mouth. Willbewill would shut his eyes when he saw him and cover his ears when he heard him speak. He couldn't tolerate even a fragment of the Law of Shaddai to be seen anywhere in the town. For example, his clerk, Mr. Mind, had some old, torn parchments of the Law of Shaddai in his house, but when Willbewill saw them, Mr. Mind flung them behind his back. Mr. Recorder had some of the laws in his study, but Willbewill had no way to get at them.\n\nHe also said, \"The windows of old Lord Mayor's house are always too light for the benefit of the town of Mansoul.\" He couldn't endure the light of a candle at this time, and nothing pleased Willbewill at all except for what pleased Diabolus his lord. (For every one that does evil hates the light, and does not come to the light, lest his deeds should be reproved. – John 3:20)\n\nNo one else proclaimed the superior nature, shrewd conduct, and great pride of the king Diabolus like him. (Those that forsake the law praise the wicked, but such as keep the law contend with them. – Proverbs 28:4) Willbewill traveled throughout the streets of Mansoul and shouted out in a loud voice for all to hear about his illustrious lord. He even disguised himself to appear like one cast out as worthless among the immoral and disreputable crowd for an opportunity to speak out about his powerful prince. And I tell you that whenever he found these mindless wards, he made himself like one of them and participated in every evil way without needing an invitation or command. (When thou didst see a thief, then thou didst consent with him and hast been partaker with adulterers. Thou didst give thy mouth to evil, and thy tongue frames deceit. Thou didst sit and speak against thy brother; thou didst slander thine own mother's son. These things hast thou done, and I kept silence; ... but I will reprove thee and set them in order before thine eyes. – Psalm 50:18-21)\n\nLord Willbewill also had a deputy under him, and his name was Mr. Affection. He too was greatly corrupted in his principles and lived his life accordingly. He wholly gave himself over to the flesh, so they called him Vile-Affection.\n\nNow he and Carnal-Lust, the daughter of Mr. Mind, were the same sort. With the two so well matched, they fell in love and married. As I understand it, they had several children, including Impudent, Darkmouth, and Hate-Reproof. These three were atrociously wicked boys. And besides these, they had three daughters, Scorn-Truth and Slight-God, and the name of the youngest was Revenge. These grew up and were all married in the town and yielded vile offspring, too many to list here.\n\nWhen the giant had established and protected himself with the garrison in the town of Mansoul, and had removed some from office and set up others whom he thought had the qualities he desired, he took it upon himself to deface any representation of the blessed King Shaddai. For example, in the marketplace in Mansoul and upon the gates of the castle, an image of the blessed King was so accurately engraved in gold that it closely resembled Shaddai Himself more than anything else in the world. With despicable meanness, Diabolus commanded this image to be defaced, and No-Truth shamelessly accomplished the deed.\n\nIn the same manner in which Diabolus commanded the image of Shaddai be defaced by the hand of Mr. No-Truth, he likewise ordered him to set up in its place the horrid and dreadful image of Diabolus as a way to show great contempt for the former King and degrade His town of Mansoul.\n\nThe Image of Diabolus Is Set Up\n\nDiabolus also laid waste to all that remained of the Laws and statutes of Shaddai in the town of Mansoul. This included anything that contained the teaching of morals within all the civil documents, and even laws which governed events and natural things like feelings. He even sought to eliminate any punishments related to these. In brief, nothing good remained in Mansoul that he and Willbewill didn't seek to destroy, for their plan was to turn Mansoul into a brute savage at heart and to make it like a carnal swine by the hand of No-Truth.\n\nAfter Diabolus destroyed what he could of the Law and the good condition of the town, he pushed the influence of his plan even further. His goal was to alienate Mansoul from Shaddai, her King. To accomplish this, he commanded worthless edicts, statutes, and commandments be set in all places of active power or assembly in Mansoul. These changes provided freedom to practice the lusts of the flesh, including the lusts of the eyes and the pride of life, which are not of Shaddai but are of the world. (For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh and the lust of the eyes and the pride of life, is not of the Father, but is of the world. – 1 John 2:16) He encouraged, approved, and promoted all ungodliness and the abandonment of lustful restraint. (Now the works of the flesh are manifest, which are these: Adultery, fornication, uncleanness, lasciviousness, idolatry, witchcraft, hatred, variance, emulations, wrath, strife, seditions, heresies, envyings, murders, drunkenness, revellings, and such like. – Galatians 5:19-21)\n\nDiabolus did this and more to encourage wickedness in the town of Mansoul. He promised them peace, contentment, joy, and pleasure by following his commands. (And that which fell among thorns are those who when they have heard go forth and are choked with cares and riches and pleasures of this life and bring no fruit to perfection. – Luke 8:14) \"You will never have to answer to anyone for not doing the opposite,\" he promised. \"Instead, this will serve as a sample for those who love to hear about things done far off in other countries – things they know nothing about.\"\n\nNow Mansoul became entirely subservient to Diabolus, coming when he called with the nod of his head, bowing, and even kneeling before him. Nothing was heard or seen any longer within the town unless it exalted him. But Diabolus saw that the town was the most ancient of establishments in the world, and he feared if he didn't maintain its greatness, the people might oppose him because he'd done Mansoul harm. He needed to show the people he didn't intend to lessen their grandeur or take away any of their beneficial things. And since he had disabled Mayor Understanding and Mr. Conscience the Recorder by removing them from office in Mansoul, he decided to choose a Lord Mayor and a Recorder himself. Only this time, he made sure to select replacements who gladdened the hearts of the people and pleased him as well.\n\nDiabolus named the Lord Lustings as Mayor of Mansoul. He had neither eyes nor ears. All he did, whether as a man or as the Mayor, he did like a beast – by sheer natural impulse. And the thing that made him most shameful to those who saw and grieved for the ruin of Mansoul was that he never favored good but only chose evil.\n\nUnder Diabolus, the Recorder was known by the name Forget-Good, and he too was a very sorry fellow. He delighted in disobedience and remembered nothing of submission. He was naturally prone to do hurtful things to the town of Mansoul and all who lived there. (He shall die because he did not submit to chastening; and due to the greatness of his folly he shall go astray. – Proverbs 5:23)\n\nThese two, by their power and practice and examples and preferences toward evil, did much speaking and writing in order to establish the common people in ways hurtful to them. However, the people didn't perceive that when those who sit in positions of authority are evil and corrupt, they in turn corrupt the whole region and country. (And he did evil in the sight of the LORD and walked in the way of Jeroboam and in his sin with which he caused Israel to sin. – 1 Kings 15:34)\n\nAfter filling these two positions, Diabolus made several appointments of people over boroughs as aldermen in Mansoul. From these, the people of the town could choose officers, governors, and magistrates when needed. These are the names of the leading men among them: Mr. Incredulity, Mr. Haughty, Mr. Swearing, Mr. Whoring, Mr. Hard-Heart, Mr. Pitiless, Mr. Fury, Mr. No-Truth, Mr. Stand-to-Lies, Mr. False-Peace, Mr. Drunkenness, Mr. Cheating, and Mr. Atheism. They numbered thirteen in all. Among the group, Mr. Incredulity was the oldest and Mr. Atheism the youngest. An election of common councilmen and some like bailiffs, sergeants, constables, and others was also held, but all of them were related to those already mentioned, being either fathers, brothers, cousins, or nephews to them.\n\nAs the giant proceeded with his plan, he decided his next step would be to build some strongholds within the town. So he built three holds that seemed impregnable. The first he called the Hold of Defiance, because it was constructed as a command center to the whole town to keep it from the knowledge of its ancient King. The second he called Midnight Hold, because it was built purposely to keep Mansoul from the true knowledge of itself. The third was called Sweet-Sin Hold, because by it he protected Mansoul against all good desires.\n\nThe first of these holds stood strategically close enough to Eye-gate to darken the light there as much as possible. The second was built solidly by the old castle with the goal of making it more blind, if possible. And the third stood in the marketplace.\n\nDiabolus made Spite-God governor over the first of these, for he was a most blasphemous wretch. He came with the whole disorderly, vulgar crowd which came against Mansoul in the beginning, for he was one of them.\n\nThe one made governor of Midnight Hold was Love-no-Light. He too belonged to the mob that first came against the town. And the man who was made governor of the Sweet-Sin Hold was Love-Flesh, one given over to the unlawful indulgence of lust. He was addicted to fornication and had no limit to his desires. This fellow found more sweetness when he stood drinking of a lust than he did in all the paradise of God.\n\nWith all these safeguards in place, Diabolus thought himself safe. He had overtaken Mansoul, had it garrisoned with troops, removed the former officers and set up new ones. He'd also damaged the image of Shaddai and set up his own image in its place. In an effort to promote his own vain lies, he stripped the town of the old law books, put his own new judge in place, and set up new aldermen. Plus, he built new defenses and manned them. All this he did to make himself secure, in case the good Shaddai or His Son decided to intrude with hostile intentions toward him. (But if our gospel is hid, it is hid to those that are lost, In whom the god of this age has blinded the understanding of those who do not believe, that the light of the gospel of the glory of the Christ, who is the image of God, should not shine in them. – 2 Corinthians 4:3-4)\n\nChapter 4\n\nThe King's Message of Mercy\n\nWith all this going on, you might think someone would have carried word to the good King Shaddai long before this to report about the condition of His Mansoul in the continent of Universe. Someone could have told Him Mansoul was lost and the apostate giant Diabolus, who once served as one of His Majesty's servants, had turned against the King in rebellion and taken over the town for himself. Yes, messages were carried and delivered to the King, telling Him of Mansoul's state. They reported how Diabolus first came against the simple and innocent people of Mansoul with cunning, subtlety, lies, and deceit. How he treacherously slew the just, noble, and valiant Captain Resistance as he stood upon the gate with the rest of the townsmen.\n\nThey described how the brave Lord Innocent fell dead when he heard his Lord and rightful King, Shaddai, so verbally abused by the filthy Diabolian scoundrel Ill-Pause. Some said his death was due to grief, while others suggested it was caused by the poisoned stinking breath of Ill-Pause. The messenger further reported that Ill-Pause made a short speech to the townsmen on behalf of his master, Diabolus. The simple town believed what he said as true, and they all agreed to open Ear-gate, the chief gate of the famous town of Mansoul, and let him and his crew take possession.\n\nReports included information about how Diabolus treated the Lord Mayor and Mr. Recorder, and how they were no longer in a place of power and trust. The messenger pointed out how Lord Willbewill rebelled and became a traitor with Mr. Mind, his clerk; he told how the two of them traveled all over town, carousing with loose and noisy merriment, and how they taught the wicked ones their ways. The messenger went on to explain, \"Willbewill was placed in a position of trust by Diabolus. He stationed him over the fortified places in Mansoul, and Mr. Affection, whom some call Vile-Affection, serves as his deputy in his most rebellious affairs. This monster, Lord Willbewill, has openly rejected his King Shaddai and has put his faith in and pledged his fidelity to Diabolus.\n\n\"And the new king, or should I say the rebellious tyrant over the once-famous but now-perishing town of Mansoul, has set up a Lord Mayor and a Recorder of his own.\" The messenger's face grew serious. \"For Mayor, he has set up Mr. Lustings, and for Recorder, Mr. Forget-Good. These are two of the vilest men found in all the town of Mansoul.\"\n\nThis faithful messenger went on with his report, detailing the sort of magistrates Diabolus had chosen and that he had built several strong forts, towers, and strongholds in Mansoul. He also explained how Diabolus equipped the town with weapons and armor for his own benefit to resist Shaddai their King, in case He tried to bring them back to their former obedience.\n\nNow this harbinger did not deliver his message in private, but rather in open court before the King and His Son, high lords, chief captains, and nobles. Those who heard the whole story experienced great sorrow of spirit at the thought that the famous Mansoul had been taken, for they did not understand that the King and His Son had foreseen this would take place far in advance and had sufficiently planned a way of escape for Mansoul. (Knowing that ye have been ransomed from your vain conversation ... with the precious blood of the Christ, as of a lamb without blemish and without contamination, already ordained from before the foundation of the world, but was manifest in these last times for love of you. – 1 Peter 1:18-20)\n\nTidings Brought of the Loss of Mansoul\n\nThose who heard the message grieved for the loss and misery of Mansoul with loud wailing and moaning. The King admitted plainly that it grieved His heart also, and His Son joined Him in that sorrow, but because of their plan, they proved their love and compassion for the famous town of Mansoul to all around them.\n\nWhen the King and His Son retired into the private chamber, they discussed further what they had planned from the beginning, namely, that Mansoul would be permitted to be lost for a time, and that it would certainly be recovered again and recovered in such a way that both the King and His Son would gain eternal fame and glory. (For God enclosed everyone in disobedience, that he might have mercy upon everyone. O the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and of the knowledge of God! How incomprehensible are his judgments and his ways past finding out! – Romans 11:32-33)\n\nEmmanuel, the Son of Shaddai, was mild and righteous and one who always had great affection for those in affliction. His heart was set against Diabolus; Emmanuel was intended for this purpose, and He promised He would fulfill His mission to recover Mansoul. And so the Son stood firm in His purpose and wouldn't change His mind, all while the evil Diabolus sought Emmanuel's crown and dignity.\n\nTherefore, the King and His Son determined beforehand that at a certain time, Emmanuel would journey into the country of Universe and, once there, make amends for the sinful acts of Mansoul with justice and impartiality, by laying a foundation of perfect deliverance from Diabolus and from his tyranny. (For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through him might be saved. – John 3:16-17)\n\nEmmanuel determined to make war against the giant Diabolus at the proper time, while he was in possession of the town of Mansoul. So Emmanuel agreed that by the strength of His hand He would justly drive Diabolus out of his hold, and He would take Mansoul for Himself to be His dwelling place. (And I will establish my covenant between me and thee and thy seed after thee in their generations for an everlasting covenant, to be a God unto thee and to thy seed after thee. – Genesis 17:7)\n\nWith all this agreed upon, an order was given to the Lord Chief Secretary to draw up a trustworthy record of all that had been determined and to make it known in all the corners of the kingdom of Universe. This is a short summary of the contents:\n\n\"Let all who are concerned about the condition of Mansoul know that the Son of Shaddai, the great King, is appointed by covenant with His Father to return Mansoul to Him again. Through the power of His matchless love, He will put Mansoul in a far better and happier condition than she was in before being taken by Diabolus.\"\n\nThese papers were published in several places, which greatly annoyed the tyrant Diabolus. He thought, Now I shall be ill-treated and my dwelling taken from me.\n\nWhen the purpose of the King and His Son was first announced at court, the high lords, chief captains, and noble princes repeated it to one another in whispers. From there it began to ring out throughout the King's palace and everyone marveled at the glorious plan the King and His Son Emmanuel designed for the miserable town of Mansoul. Those who frequented the court could do little for the King or kingdom, but they joined in making known the love the King and His Son had for the town of Mansoul. For none of these lords, high captains, and princes could keep this good news to themselves. Before the records were even perfected, they journeyed and delivered the glad tidings in Universe. (But the angel said unto them, Fear not; for, behold, I bring you a gospel of great joy, which shall be to all the people. ... And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will in man. – Luke 2:10, 13-14)\n\nFinally, the news made it to Diabolus. You can imagine his dissatisfaction when he heard such a plan was conceived against him. But after he thought about it for a time, he concluded four things.\n\nFirst, he decided this good news should be kept from the ears of the town of Mansoul. He said, \"If Mansoul learns that Shaddai, their former King, and Emmanuel, His Son, are planning good for the town, all I can expect is that Mansoul will revolt from being under my control and the government will turn and follow Him again.\"\n\nSo Diabolus made a plan of his own. Again, he flattered Lord Willbewill, and with strict orders delegated the responsibility for him to keep watch day and night at all the gates of the town, especially Ear-gate and Eye-gate. (Hearing ye shall hear and shall not understand; and seeing ye shall see and not perceive; for the heart of this people is waxed gross, and their ears are dull of hearing, and their eyes have they closed. – Acts 28:26-27a) \"For I hear of a plan,\" he said to Willbewill, \"a plan that makes us all traitors and requires Mansoul to be brought back into bondage to Him. I hope they are only rumors. However, to be safe, don't let any such news into Mansoul because the people will become depressed if they hear it.\n\n\"I'm sure such news is no more welcome by you than it is to me. For this reason,\" Diabolus arched one ridged brow, \"I think it best if we use our wisdom to nip such rumors in the bud, before they trouble our people. I desire you to do as I say in this matter. Set up strong guards daily at every gate of the town. Stop and examine everyone entering the gates and learn where they are coming from so you know their true purpose for coming here to trade. Unless you see clearly that they favor our excellent government, by no means admit them into Mansoul.\n\n\"I also command spies be set in place to continually walk throughout the town of Mansoul. Give them the power to suppress and destroy anyone they perceive to be plotting against us or who prattle about what Shaddai and Emmanuel intend to do.\"\n\nLord Willbewill bowed and willingly did as his lord and master commanded with all the diligence he could muster. He kept anyone he could from going out beyond the walls of Mansoul and prevented any who sought to bring Shaddai's news into the town from entering.\n\nSecondly, once this was accomplished, Diabolus secured Mansoul further by composing and imposing a new oath and horrible covenant upon the townsfolk. In it, they agreed they would never desert him or his government. They said they would not betray him or seek in any way to alter his laws. Instead, they were expected to own, confess, stand by, and acknowledge him as their rightful king, in defiance of any who might by some trick, law, or title lay claim to the town of Mansoul. For he thought that perhaps Shaddai didn't have the power to absolve them from this covenant with death and agreement with hell. And silly Mansoul didn't stop or even hesitate to agree to this most monstrous obligation. They swallowed it without even chewing, as if it were nothing more than a small fish in the mouth of a whale.\n\nIn fact, not only were they not troubled at all by this, they also even bragged and boasted about their brave loyalty to the tyrant, their pretended king, swearing they would never change from following him or forsake him as their lord for someone new. (But now ye boast in your arrogance; all such glory is evil. – James 4:16) In this way, Diabolus bound poor Mansoul tightly.\n\nThirdly, his jealousy propelled him to another great act of wickedness, which would corrupt this town of Mansoul even more. He accomplished this by the hand of Mr. Filth, who drew up an odious, nasty, lustful piece of beastliness in writing and posted it on the castle gates. In it, he granted permission to all his true and trusted sons in Mansoul to do whatever their lustful appetites prompted them to do. No man was to let anything hinder or control them, or they would incur the displeasure of their prince. He had reasons for doing this.\n\nThe town of Mansoul might be made weaker and weaker and thus more unable to believe, hope, or consent to the truth of Shaddai's news of redemption, if it should happen to reach the town. Plus, it reinforced the reasoning which says, the bigger the sinner, the less hope of mercy.\n\nIf Emmanuel, the Son of Shaddai their King, saw the horrible and irreverent deeds of the town of Mansoul, He might change His mind regarding the covenant of their redemption, for Diabolus knew Shaddai was holy and His Son Emmanuel was holy. He knew this for certain, based on his own unhappy experience; for remember, Diabolus was cast from the highest orbs as the result of his iniquity and sin. (How art thou fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morning! How art thou cut down to the ground, who didst claim the Gentiles as an inheritance! – Isaiah 14:12)\n\nAs a result of his own fate, Diabolus concluded Mansoul might fare the same for sin. But fearing his bond with Mansoul could break, he thought of another way to thwart Shaddai's plan.\n\nFourthly, he decided to attempt to possess all hearts in the town of Mansoul in a very crafty way – by saying Shaddai was raising an army to come overthrow and utterly destroy this town of Mansoul. He did this to pre-empt any news they might hear of their deliverance. For, he thought, if I suggest this lie first, the news they hear later will all be swallowed up as if it is the lie. For what else will Mansoul say when they hear that they must be delivered, but that the true meaning is that Shaddai intends to destroy them?\n\nTherefore, he called the entire town into the marketplace and with a deceitful tongue addressed the town of Mansoul. \"My very good friends, you are all my legal subjects and men of the famous town of Mansoul. You know how from the first day of my arrival, until now, I have behaved myself among you. You are also aware of the freedom and great privileges you have enjoyed under my government – I hope to your good name and mine and to your satisfaction and delight. Now, my famous Mansoul, I am here to report the sound of trouble ringing from beyond your walls, and I am grieved for your sakes. For I just received a letter from Lord Lucifer, who is quite intelligent, that says your old King Shaddai is raising an army to come against you to destroy you totally. This is why I have called you together – to offer my opinion as to what I see is the best course of action at this time.\n\n\"For my part, I am just one person and could easily change where I live, if I were to seek my own interest and to leave my Mansoul in all the danger. But I could never do that! My heart is firmly united to you, and I am unwilling to leave you. In fact, I am willing to stand and fall with you, even if the greatest risk or danger were to befall me. What do you say, my Mansoul? Will you desert your old friend now or will you stand with me?\"\n\nThey cried out in one accord, \"Let him who does not stand with you die!\" (And it was given unto him to endue the image of the beast with spirit, so that the image of the beast should speak, and he shall cause those that do not worship the image of the beast to be killed. – Revelation 13:15)\n\nA smile of satisfaction tugged at the corner of Diabolus's thin lips for a brief moment. \"It is worthless for us to hope for sympathy, for this King doesn't know how to show it. True, when He first sits down to talk before us, He may talk of and pretend to show mercy, but only to put you at ease so you cause less trouble. He will only do this to make Himself the master of Mansoul again.\n\n\"Therefore, don't believe a single word of anything He says, for His words will be designed to overcome us and to make us the trophies of His merciless victory, while we wallow in our blood. In my mind, I have determined we should agree to resist Him to the last man and not to believe Him on any terms. For our danger will come through that door in the guise of merciful words, but shall we be flattered out of our lives? I hope you understand the basics of politics enough not to permit yourselves to be served so pitifully.\n\n\"Suppose He gets us to surrender or even saves some of our lives or the lives of some minions in Mansoul. What help will that be to you – you who are the most important people of the town? Especially you whom I have set up – you who have attained greatness by your faithful support to me? And suppose He should spare the life of every one of you; you can be sure He will bring you under that same bondage with which you were made a prisoner before or worse. Then what good will your lives do you?\n\nDiabolus Incites Mansoul to Arms\n\n\"Do you think you will live in pleasure with Him as you do now under me? The answer to that is no. With Him, you must be bound by laws that will oppress you with want, and you'll be made to do the very things you loathe now. I am ready to stand with you, if you are ready to stand with me, for it is better to die valiantly than to live like pitiful slaves. But, I say, the life of a slave will be counted a life too good for Mansoul now.\"\n\nDiabolus shook his head sadly. \"Blood, blood, nothing but blood is in every blast of Shaddai's trumpet against poor Mansoul. I entreat you! Be concerned! I hear He is coming! Stand up and grab your weapons now, so I can teach you some feats of war while we have time. I have armor fit for Mansoul to cover you from the top of your head to your toes. If you wear this, you cannot be hurt by what His forces do, as long as you keep it well secured and fastened about you. For this purpose, I welcome you to my castle. Come and equip yourselves for the war. There is a helmet, breastplate, sword, shield, and whatnot that will prepare you to fight like men.\n\n\"My helmet is worn in the hope of doing well for the rest of your lives. Those who have worn this reported having peace, even though they walked in the wickedness of their heart in order to add drunkenness to thirst. Whoever can keep possession of this piece of approved armor cannot be hurt by any arrow, dart, sword, or shield. For this reason, keep it on and you will thwart many a blow, my Mansoul.\n\n\"My breastplate is a breastplate of iron. I had it forged in my own country and all my soldiers there are armed with one. In plain language, it is a hard heart – a heart as hard as iron and as much past feeling as a stone. If you get it and keep it, mercy shall not win you, and judgment will not frighten you. For this reason, this is a most necessary piece of armor for all to put on who hate Shaddai and are willing to fight against Him under my banner. (And they had breastplates, as it were breastplates of iron; and the sound of their wings was as the sound of chariots of many horses running to battle. – Revelation 9:9)\n\n\"My sword is a tongue set on fire of hell that can bend itself to speak evil of Shaddai, His Son, His ways, and His people. Use this. It is well known that it has been tried a thousand times. Whoever possesses it keeps it, and makes use of it, as I desire him to do, and can never be conquered by my enemy. (Thy tongue devises wickedness like a sharp razor, working deceitfully. Thou dost love evil more than good; and lying rather than to speak righteousness. – Psalm 52:2-3)\n\n\"My shield is unbelief. It calls into question the truth of the Word and all the sayings, which speak of the judgment Shaddai has appointed for wicked men. Use this shield. He has made many attempts upon it. Sometimes it has been broken, but those who have written of the wars of Emmanuel against my servants have testified He could do no mighty work there because of their unbelief. (And he did not do many mighty works there because of their unbelief. – Matthew 13:58) To handle this weapon of mine correctly, you must not believe things because they are asserted to be true. If He speaks of judgment, care nothing about it. If He speaks of mercy, don't pay attention to Him, even when He promises to extend that mercy to Mansoul if she turns back to Him. If He promises no harm but only good, don't believe what is said. Instead, question the truth and wield the shield of unbelief correctly, as my servants ought. Anyone who does otherwise doesn't love me, and I count him as an enemy.\n\n\"Another piece or part of my excellent armor is a dumb and prayerless spirit – a spirit that distains the very thought of crying for mercy. Be sure you make use of this, my Mansoul. Never beg for mercy if you want to be mine. I know you are strong men, and I am confident I have clad you with proven armor. Therefore, don't even consider crying to Shaddai for mercy. Cast such thoughts far from yourself. Besides all this armor, I have useful hand weapons all ready to perform. These include a heavy wooden hammer, firebrands, arrows, and death.\"\n\nAfter he finished speaking to his men about armor and arms, he went on to say, \"Remember, I am your rightful king. You have taken an oath and entered into a covenant to be true to me and my cause. With this in mind, men of Mansoul, show yourselves strong and valiant. Don't forget the kindness I have always shown you without your asking. I have granted you things – external visible things. However, these privileges, grants, protections, profits, and honors I've bestowed on you call for returns of loyalty, my lion-like men of Mansoul, as when another seeks to take my dominion over you into His own hands.\n\n\"One word more and I am done. Can we stand together and overcome this one offense or violent blow? I don't doubt it. In a short time all the world will be ours, and when that day comes, I will make you kings, princes, and captains, and what grand days we shall have then!\" (And a valiant king shall stand up, that shall rule over a great dominion and do according to his will. – Daniel 11:3)\n\nOnce Diabolus prepared and armed his subjects and servants in Mansoul against their good and lawful King Shaddai, he doubled his guards at the gates of the town. Then he departed to his castle stronghold. To show their determination and supposed (but worthless) bravery, his subjects practiced with their weapons every day. They taught one another feats of war, defied their enemies, and sang the praises of their tyrant. They also talked about what type of men they would be if it ever came to war between Shaddai and their king.\n\nChapter 5\n\nShaddai Sends His Army\n\nNow all this time the good King, the King Shaddai, prepared to send an army to recover the town of Mansoul from under the tyranny of their false king Diabolus. He thought it best not to send them by the hand and leadership of brave Emmanuel, His Son. Instead, He placed His army in the control of some of His servants to see if He could reduce the violence and excess of Mansoul and determine whether Mansoul would be won to the obedience of their King. The army consisted of about forty thousand, all true men, for the King chose them from His own court by His own hand.\n\nThey came up to Mansoul under the command of four brave generals, each man being a captain of ten thousand men. The name of the first was Boanerges (And James the son of Zebedee and John the brother of James, whom he surnamed them Boanerges, which is The sons of thunder. – Mark 3:17); the name of the second was Captain Conviction (And those who heard it, being convicted by their own conscience, went out one by one. – John 8:9a); the third was Captain Judgment (And when he is come, he will reprove the world of sin and of righteousness and of judgment: of sin, because they do not believe in me. – John 16:8-9), and the fourth was Captain Execution (But if thou do that which is evil, be afraid; for he does not bear the sword in vain, for he is a minister of God, a revenger to execute wrath upon him that does evil. – Romans 13:4). These were the captains Shaddai sent to regain Mansoul.\n\nThe King thought these four were qualified to be sent to Mansoul first, because He generally sent them to the front line in all His wars, and they were very brave and often able to shape the course of the war. They were trained to initiate conversations in order to get something started, as well as to make their way by the power of the sword. Plus, their men were like them.\n\nKing Shaddai gave each of these captains a banner to display because of the goodness of His cause and the right He had to Mansoul. (Thou hast given a banner to those that fear thee that they raise up for the truth. – Psalm 60:4) Ten thousand men were given to Captain Boanerges, for he was the chief, and his banner's name was Mr. Thunder. He wore black colors, and the emblem on his shield was the three burning thunderbolts.\n\nThe second captain, Captain Conviction, also had charge of ten thousand men. On his banner was the name Mr. Sorrow. He wore the pale colors and on his shield was the book of the Law, wide open with a fiery flame issuing from it.\n\nThe third captain, Captain Judgment, also had ten thousand men in his charge; on his banner was written the name Mr. Terror. He wore red colors and his shield burned like a fiery furnace.\n\nThe fourth captain was Captain Execution, and he too was given ten thousand men. The name upon his banner was Mr. Justice. He also wore red colors and on his shield was a fruitless tree with an axe lying at the root. (And now the axe is also laid unto the root of the trees; therefore, every tree which does not bring forth good fruit is hewn down and cast into the fire. – Matthew 3:10)\n\nThe ten thousand men under the command of each of these four captains were all of good faith to the King and brave military men. Once the captains, their men, and under-officers had gathered to Shaddai and were in the field, they were called by name to come and put on armor needed for the level of service they were about to perform for their King.\n\nThe Captains of Emmanuel\n\nNow, when the King mustered His forces (for it was He who rallied the army to the battle), He gave several orders to the captains and entrusted them with their duties and issued commands in the presence of all the soldiers. He said they must listen to His commands faithfully, and courageously execute them in the same way. (Today the LORD thy God has commanded thee to comply with these statutes and rights; take care, therefore, to keep and do them with all thine heart and with all thy soul. – Deuteronomy 26:16) The essence of these orders was the same for each of the captains except for the name, title, place, and specific tasks with small variations. Here is a summary of what He sent them to accomplish:\n\nA Commission from the great Shaddai, King of Mansoul, to His trusted and noble captain, the Captain Boanerges, for his making war upon the town of Mansoul.\n\n\"Boanerges, one of My brave and thundering captains whom I have placed over ten thousand of My valiant and faithful servants, go forward in My name with this force to the miserable town of Mansoul. When you come to it, offer them conditions of peace and command them to cast off the yoke and tyranny of the wicked Diabolus and return to Me, their rightful Prince and Lord. Also, command them to cleanse themselves from all that is his in the town of Mansoul and pay attention to the satisfaction perceived from the truth of their obedience.\n\n\"So when you have commanded them, if they in truth submit to the commands, then do all within your power to set up for Me a garrison in Mansoul. Don't hurt the least of those who were born and live there, if they willingly submit themselves to Me. Instead, treat those who respond in this way as your friend or brother, for I love them and hold them dear. Tell them I will set a time to come to them and be sure to let them know I am merciful.\n\n\"But if they resist your summons and the show of your authority – if they oppose, stand up against you, and rebel – then I command you to make use of all your cunning, power, might, and force to bring them into subjection by the strength of your hand. Farewell.\"\n\nThis review of His commission offers insight into the sum of all their directives, for as I said, the substance of the commands issued for all the captains was the same.\n\nTherefore, each commander received his authority at the hand of their King. (Then he called his twelve disciples together and gave them power and authority over all the demons and to cure diseases. – Luke 9:1) The day was appointed and the place of their rendezvous determined beforehand. Each commander appeared in splendor appropriate to his cause and calling. After a commissioning from Shaddai, they set out with flying colors to march towards the famous town of Mansoul. Captain Boanerges led the army; Captain Conviction and Captain Judgment made up the main body, and Captain Execution brought up the rear. The town of Mansoul was far off from the court of Shaddai, so they marched through the regions and countries of many people, not hurting or abusing any, but rather blessing the people wherever they traveled. They also lived at the King's expense for the entire journey.\n\nHaving traveled in this manner for many days, they came within sight of Mansoul. When they saw it, the captains' hearts mourned over the condition of the town, for they quickly saw how it bowed to the will of Diabolus and to his ways and plans.\n\nThe captains marched up to Ear-gate and sat down there before the town, for it was the place of hearing. (So then faith comes by hearing, and the ear to hear by the word of God. – Romans 10:17) When they had pitched their tents and entrenched themselves, they discussed their assault strategy.\n\nNow when the townsfolk first laid eyes on such a magnificent company, so splendidly dressed and equipped, and so excellently disciplined, displaying flying colors and wearing glittering armor, they couldn't help but come out of their houses and gaze upon it all. But the cunning fox Diabolus, fearing the people might open the gates to the captains after this sight, hurried from the castle and made them withdraw into the center of the town. Once he corralled them there, he made this lying, deceitful speech to them:\n\n\"Gentlemen,\" he said, \"although you are my loyal and well-beloved friends, I cannot help but scold you a little for your recent careless action. I am talking about how you went out to gaze upon that great and mighty force, which sat down before our Ear-gate just yesterday. Do you not see they have entrenched themselves in order to sustain a siege against the famous town of Mansoul? Do you know who they are or where they come from? Do you know their purpose in sitting down before the town of Mansoul?\n\n\"They are the very ones whom I warned you about long ago. They come to destroy this town. In fact, I have gone to great expense to arm you from head to toe to protect your body against them and have made great fortifications for your mind. When you first caught sight of them, why didn't you cry out, 'Sound the alarm!' If you had warned the whole town concerning them, we might have been in a position to defend against them and meet them with the highest level of defiance. If you had acted in this way, you would have proved yourselves to be men to my liking. Now, with what you have done, you make me half-afraid that when we meet with them in hand-to-hand combat, I shall find you lack courage to stand against them.\n\n\"Didn't I command you to double your guards at the gates? Haven't I endeavored to make you as hard as iron and your hearts as inflexible as a piece of a lower millstone? What did you think? That you might show yourselves to be like women, untrained for war so you could go out like a band of innocents to gaze on your mortal foes? Aargh! Get ready! Put yourselves into a state of defensive readiness. Beat the drum! Gather together in a warlike manner so our foes know there are valiant men in the town of Mansoul, before they decide to conquer this town and its citizens.\n\n\"I will stop scolding now and will not reprimand you further. But it is your duty from now on to make certain that I see no more of such actions. From this point forward, don't allow a man of you to so much as show his head over the wall of the town of Mansoul without first obtaining the order from me. You have heard me; now do as I have commanded. You and I shall dwell securely with me as your superior, and I will take care to keep you safe and to protect your honor. Farewell.\"\n\nThe townsmen were strangely altered by this speech. They acted like panicked men stricken with fear. They ran to and fro through the streets of the town of Mansoul, and as they ran, they cried out, \"Help! Help! The men who turn the world upside down have come here also!\" (But the disobedient Jews, moved with envy, took unto them certain lewd fellows of the baser sort and gathered a company and set all the city on an uproar ... crying, These that have turned the world upside down have come here also. – Acts 17:5-6)\n\nNot one of them remained quiet but rather they acted like men deprived of any sense. They cried out again saying, \"The destroyers of our peace and our people have come!\"\n\nThis message rang through the air, and when Diabolus heard it, he said, \"Ah, this I like very much. Now you behave as I would have it, for now you show your obedience to your prince. Stay just like this and then let them take the town if they can.\" (In time past ye walked according to the course of this world, according to the will of the prince of the power of this air, the spirit that now works in the sons of disobedience. – Ephesians 2:2)\n\nChapter 6\n\nThe King's Offer\n\nThree days before the King's forces reached Mansoul, Captain Boanerges commanded his trumpeter to go down to Ear-gate. There, in the name of the great Shaddai, he was to summon Mansoul to listen to the message he was commanded to deliver to them in his Master's name. So the trumpeter, whose name was Take-Heed-What-You-Hear, went up to Ear-gate and sounded his trumpet for a hearing, but no one appeared or responded in any way. Remember, this is how Diabolus had commanded the people of Mansoul to behave. So the trumpeter hurried back to deliver the news to his captain. The report grieved the captain, and he told the trumpeter to go to his tent.\n\nThe next day Captain Boanerges sent his trumpeter to Ear-gate a second time to sound his trumpet again for a hearing, but again the gate remained closed. No one came. In fact, they didn't even give him an answer, because they obediently observed the command of Diabolus their king.\n\nThen the captains and other field officers called a council of war to consider what more could be done to gain the town of Mansoul. After they came together and debated the specifics thoroughly regarding their commissions, they decided to send another summons to the town by the hand of the same trumpeter. But this time, if the town of Mansoul decided to refuse to hear the message, the trumpeter was to tell them the captains, their officers, and the troops would endeavor by whatever means they could to compel them by force to obey their King.\n\nSo Captain Boanerges commanded his trumpeter to go up to Ear-gate again and in the name of the great King Shaddai, to deliver a very loud summons to come down without delay to Ear-gate to give a public reception to hear what the King's most noble captains had to say. So the trumpeter went and did as he was commanded.\n\nHe stepped up to Ear-gate, sounded his trumpet, and gave a third summons to Mansoul. (Blessed is the man that hears me, keeping vigil at my gates, waiting at the threshold of my doors. – Proverbs 8:34) This time he warned them that if they still refused to give audience to the captains of his Prince, they would come down upon them with might and endeavor to bring them to repentance by force.\n\nThen Lord Willbewill (the apostate I mentioned before), who was the governor of the town and the keeper of the gates of Mansoul, stood up. He responded with considerable and disturbing words, as he demanded to know who the trumpeter was, where he came from, and asked him, \"For what reason are you making such a dreadful noise at the gate by speaking such intolerable words against the town of Mansoul?\"\n\nThe trumpeter stood straight and called out with a loud voice. \"I am a servant to the most noble Captain Boanerges, general of the forces of the great King Shaddai, against whom you and the whole town of Mansoul have rebelled and whom you continue to oppose. My master, the captain, has a special message to deliver to this town and to you, if you will peaceably hear it. If not, you must suffer the consequences.\"\n\nWillbewill said, \"I will deliver your message to my lord, and we shall see what he will say.\"\n\nBut the trumpeter quickly replied, \"Our message is not to the giant Diabolus but to the miserable town of Mansoul. We shall not regard any answer from Diabolus at all or any who speak for him. We are sent to this town to recover it from under his cruel tyranny and persuade it to submit, as it did in former times to the most excellent King Shaddai.\" (Through the greatness of thy power shall thine enemies submit themselves unto thee. – Psalm 66:3)\n\nWillbewill said, \"I will deliver your message to the town.\"\n\nThe trumpeter replied, \"Sir, do not deceive us, for if you do, you'll only be deceiving yourself much more.\" He paused and then added, \"If you don't submit in a peaceable manner, we are determined to make war with you and bring you under His hand by force. And to show what I'm saying is the truth, this shall be a sign unto you – you shall see the black flag with its hot, burning thunderbolts set upon the mountain tomorrow as a token of defiance against your prince and our resolution to bring you back to your Lord and rightful King.\"\n\nSo Lord Willbewill left the wall and the trumpeter marched back into the camp. When he arrived, the captains and officers of the mighty King Shaddai met with him to find out if he had success in obtaining a hearing, and if so, how it went. So the trumpeter made his report: \"When I sounded my trumpet and called aloud to the town for a hearing, Lord Willbewill, the governor of the town who also has charge of the gates, responded to my trumpet sound. He looked over the wall and asked what I was doing there, where I had come from, and the reason I was making so much noise. I told him the purpose of my errand and by whose authority I brought the message. He said he would deliver the message to the governor and to Mansoul, and then I returned to my lords.\"\n\nThe brave Boanerges said, \"Let us wait a little longer here in our trenches and see what these rebels decide to do.\"\n\nWhen the time drew near for the public reception of the brave Boanerges and his companions to deliver the King's message to Mansoul, all the men of war throughout the whole camp of Shaddai were commanded to stand fully armed as one. They were to be prepared, if the town of Mansoul accepted the message of mercy, and if it did not, they were to bring it under the dominion of the King with force.\n\nWhen the day arrived, the trumpeters sounded the signal through the whole camp for the men of war to make themselves ready for the work of the day. Within the town of Mansoul, the inhabitants heard the sound of the trumpets within Shaddai's camp. All they could think when they heard the sound was that it must be a signal to storm the town. At first they were horrified at the thought and didn't know what to do, but after a little time they settled down and started to make what preparations they could for war. At the very least, they took steps to keep themselves safe in the event that the troops stormed the town of Mansoul.\n\nWhen the maximum amount of time allotted had come and gone, Boanerges sent out his trumpeter again to call upon Mansoul for a public reception to hear their response to the message they had brought from Shaddai.\n\nThe trumpeter went and announced his presence with the shrill call of his trumpet. The townsmen came up, but it wasn't to give an audience to the trumpeter. Instead, they made Ear-gate as safe and permanent as they could. When they came to the top of the wall, Captain Boanerges wished to obtain an audience with the Lord Mayor, but at that time, Lord Incredulity showed up as Lord Mayor in the place of Lord Lustings.\n\nIncredulity's Speech from the Walls\n\nSo Incredulity showed himself at the top of the wall and introduced himself as the Lord Mayor. However, as soon as Captain Boanerges set his eyes upon him, he cried out, \"This is not the Lord Mayor! Where is Lord Understanding, the ancient Lord Mayor of the town of Mansoul? It is to him I will deliver my message!\"\n\nThe giant Diabolus had also come down to the gate, and he was the one to answer the captain this time. \"Mr. Captain, you have boldly given Mansoul at least four summonses to subject herself to your King, whose authority I neither recognize nor dispute at this moment. However, I do ask for what reason all this commotion has been stirred up, or do you even know yourselves why you approach?\"\n\nCaptain Boanerges, whose colors were black and whose coat of arms upon his shield was the three burning thunderbolts, paid no attention to the giant or what he said. Instead, he addressed the town of Mansoul. \"I am here to make certain you know, O wretched and rebellious Mansoul, that the most gracious King, the great King Shaddai, my Master, has sent me to you with this authority.\" He showed them his broad seal, which indicated Shaddai's sovereignty. \"I am here to bring you back to obedience to Him. He has commanded me, in case you surrender to His will upon my summons, to carry His message to you as if you were my friends or brothers. However, He also has ordered that if you refuse to submit and choose rather to rebel, then we should endeavor to take you by force.\" (And the LORD hastened upon the chastisement and brought it upon us: for the LORD our God is just in all his works which he has done, for we did not listen to his voice. – Daniel 9:14)\n\nThen Captain Conviction stepped forward dressed in his pale colors. Upon his shield was the book of the Law standing wide open. He said, \"Hear, O Mansoul! You were once famous for your innocence, but now you have degenerated into telling lies and practicing deceit. You have heard what my brother Captain Boanerges has said. It would be wise to accept the conditions of peace and mercy offered, and especially when presented by One whom you have rebelled against, One powerful enough to tear you in pieces, for so is Shaddai, our King. When He is angry, nothing can stand before Him.\n\n\"Even if you say you have not sinned or acted in rebellion against our King, all of your actions since the day you cast aside His service (this was the beginning of your sin) sufficiently testify against you. (If we say that we have not sinned, we make him a liar, and his word is not in us. – 1 John 1:10)\n\n\"What else do you think it means when you listen to the tyrant and even accept him as your king? What else can it mean when you reject the Laws of Shaddai and obey Diabolus? For that matter, what else can it mean when you shut your gates and take up arms against us, the faithful servants of your King? (And the LORD God of their fathers sent to them by the hand of his messengers, rising up early, and sending because he had compassion on his people and on his dwelling place. But they mocked the messengers of God and despised his words and misused his prophets until the wrath of the LORD arose against his people, and there was no remedy. – 2 Chronicles 36:15-16)\n\n\"Be governed by the King then and accept my brother's invitation. Don't think the price too high. Accept His mercy and agree with your adversary quickly. Ah, Mansoul! Don't forbid or hinder yourself from accepting His mercy, for if you do, you will run into a thousand miseries by the flattering tricks of Diabolus. Perhaps he has even deceived you into thinking we seek our own reward in what we do here today. Let me tell you clearly, that is not the case. We are here in obedience to our King and His love for you. We desire your happiness. That is the reason for this undertaking.\n\n\"Again I say to you, Mansoul, think about it. Is it anything but amazing grace that Shaddai should humble Himself in this way now? That through us He attempts to earnestly petition and reason with you by agreeable persuasions, so you will subject yourselves to Him? Does He need anything from you? No. But we are sure you have need of Him. He is merciful, and it is His will that Mansoul turn to Him to live and not die.\" (The Lord is not late concerning his promise, as some count lateness, but is patient with us, not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance. – 2 Peter 3:9)\n\nCaptain Judgment stepped forth dressed in red. The symbol on his shield was the burning fiery furnace. He said, \"Inhabitants of the town of Mansoul, you who have lived so long in rebellion and committed acts of treason against King Shaddai. Know that we came here today, in this manner, not to carry our own message or to inflict pain or injury because of our own quarrel with you. It is the King, my Master, who has sent us to bring you back to obedience to Him. If you refuse to surrender in a peaceable way, we have authority to use force to urge you to do so.\n\n\"And never think to yourselves or allow the tyrant Diabolus to persuade you to think our King is not able, for by His power He is able to bring you down to lay you beneath His feet. For He is so powerful that if He even touches the mountains, they smoke. (Let the glory of the LORD endure for ever; let the LORD rejoice in his works. He looks on the earth, and it trembles: he touches the mountains, and they smoke. – Psalm 104:31-32)\n\n\"Know this too, that the King's disposition to forgive or spare will not always remain before you like an open gate, for the day is before Him that burns like an oven. It comes quickly and does not slumber. (Seek the LORD while he may be found; call upon him while he is near: Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts: and let him return unto the LORD, and he will have mercy upon him; and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon. – Isaiah 55:6-7)\n\n\"O Mansoul, is it trivial in your eyes that our King offers you mercy, even after so many provocations? He still holds out His golden scepter of grace to you and will not allow His gate to be shut against you yet. (For he saith, I have heard thee in an acceptable time, and in the day of saving health I have succoured thee; behold, now is the acceptable time; behold, now is the day of saving health. – 2 Corinthians 6:2) Will you then provoke Him to do it? If so, consider what I'm telling you now; the way will not be opened to you forever.\n\n\"Even if you say you will not see or stand before Him, judgment is still His. Therefore, trust in Him, for I tell you plainly, wrath is to come. (But after thy hardness and impenitent heart treasures up unto thyself wrath against the day of wrath and revelation of the righteous judgment of God, who will render to everyone according to his deeds. – Romans 2:5-6) Be aware of this and fear, for He may take you away with one blow, and once this happens, even a great ransom cannot deliver you.\n\n\"Will He judge the merit of your riches? No, not when it comes to things like gold or forces of strength. He has prepared His throne for judgment, for He will come with fire and with His chariots like a whirlwind to render His anger with fury and His rebukes with flames of fire. (For, behold, the LORD will come with fire and with his chariots like a whirlwind to render his anger with fury and his rebuke with flames of fire. – Isaiah 66:15) For this reason, Mansoul, pay attention to our message. After you have fulfilled the judgment of the wicked, justice and judgment will take hold of you.\"\n\nNow while Captain Judgment delivered his speech to the town of Mansoul, some noticed Diabolus trembling at the captain's words while he continued building his case. \"O you woeful town, Mansoul, do you still refuse to open your gate to receive us? We are the deputies of your King and would rejoice to see you live. Can your heart continue on in this condition without perishing? Or can you remain strong on the day He pronounces your judgment? I ask – can you bear to be forced to drink from the sea of wrath that our King has prepared for Diabolus and his angels? Think about this briefly and decide what you must do.\"\n\nThen the fourth captain, the noble Captain Execution, stepped forward. \"Town of Mansoul, you were once famous but now are like a fruitless branch. You were once delightful and praised for excellence, but now you are nothing but a den for Diabolus. Listen and pay attention to the words I speak in the name of the great Shaddai. Be aware that the axe is laid at the root of the trees. Every tree that doesn't bring forth good fruit is cut down and cast into the fire. (And now also the axe is laid unto the root of the trees; every tree therefore which does not bring forth good fruit is hewn down and cast into the fire. – Luke 3:9) O town of Mansoul, until this time, you have been this fruitless tree. You bear nothing but thorns and briars. Your evil fruit shows you are not a good tree; your grape clusters are extremely bitter. You have rebelled against your King, and look!\" Captain Execution made a wide, sweeping gesture toward the troops standing with him. \"The power and force of Shaddai stands before you. We are the axe laid to your root. What do you say? Will you change sides?\"\n\nNo one answered. After a pause, the captain said, \"I ask one more time. Tell me before the first blow is struck: Will you turn to follow your King? Our axe must first be laid to your root as a clear threat – one you should not disregard. If you do, it will be laid at your root, and judgment will be carried out. Between the positioning of the axe and judgment, your repentance is required.\" (But if the wicked will turn from all his sins that he has committed and keep all my statutes and live according to judgment and righteousness, he shall surely live, he shall not die. – Ezekiel 18:21)\n\n\"Your time is up. What will you do? Will you turn or shall I strike? If I bring my blow against you, Mansoul, down you'll go, for I have authority to lay my axe at and to your roots. Nothing but surrendering to our King will prevent the execution of His plan. If mercy does not prevent it, you are only fit to be hewn down and cast into the fire and burned.\n\n\"Be aware that the King's patience and restraint won't prevent the consequences of your actions forever. In His loving-kindness He may delay a year, or two, or three, but if you provoke Him by rebelling for three years, and you've already done this and more, then what can you expect but the order to 'Cut it down'? And after that, you shall be cut down. (Then he said unto the dresser of his vineyard, Behold, these three years I come seeking fruit on this fig tree and find none; cut it down; why does it cumber the ground? – Luke 13:7)\n\n\"Do you think what I'm telling you is nothing more than idle threats? Or that our King isn't powerful enough to bring what He has said to pass? Mansoul, you will find that when sinners make light of the words of our King, they soon learn the threats are real. His words are filled not only with impending wrath but also with burning coals of fire.\n\n\"You have been totally worthless for a long while already. Do you plan to continue to live this way? It is because of your sin that this army stands at your walls. We remain here ready to bring judgment and, with it, punishment to your town. Is this what you really want? You have heard what the captains have said, but still your gates are shut to us. Speak out, Mansoul, and give us your answer. Will you accept conditions of peace or do you plan to continue on in your sin?\"\n\nMansoul refused to hear these bold speeches from the four noble captains, and even though the sound of the words beat against Ear-gate, the force wasn't enough to break it open. (We are of God; he that knows God hears us; he that is not of God does not hear us. – 1 John 4:6) The town said, \"We desire time to prepare our answer to the demands laid down by the captains.\"\n\nThe captains, in turn, agreed to more time, but only if Mansoul was willing to turn over to them Ill-Pause, so they could repay him according to his works. If Mansoul refused to cast him out over the wall, however, the captains would not consider allotting more time. They said, \"We know that as long as Ill-Pause draws breath in Mansoul, all good, serious deliberation will be put to shame and silenced, and nothing but harm will result.\"\n\nNow remember, while all this was going on, Diabolus was present. Being unwilling to lose Ill-Pause because he was his orator, Diabolus decided rashly to answer them on his own at that very instant. However, before he opened his mouth, he changed his mind and commanded the current Mayor, the Lord Incredulity, to do it. He said, \"Give these vagabonds an answer and be sure to speak out loud enough that Mansoul can hear and understand you.\"\n\nSo at Diabolus's command, Incredulity spoke to the townsfolk of Mansoul and said, \"Gentlemen, you can see what we have here are interlopers trying to take from our prince the lawful and peaceable enjoyment of his right as our prince.\"\n\nThen he turned his attention to the captains and armies and said, \"You are disturbing the town of Mansoul. You have camped against it, but we don't know where you've come from, and we will never know where you come from or what you are. We will not believe! You come here delivering terrible threats in your speeches and claim you have authority from Shaddai to do so. (I say unto you, He that hears my word and believes him that sent me has eternal life and shall not come into judgment but has passed from death unto life. – John 5:24) But what right does He have to command you to do it? That is what we don't understand.\n\n\"By this same authority, you have also called this town to desert her lord and, for protection, to surrender to the great Shaddai your King. In the same breath, you tell her if she will do it, He will not charge her with her past sins. Further, you have terrorized the town of Mansoul and threatened her with great and violent destruction as punishment if she doesn't consent to do as you command.\n\n\"Now, captains, from wherever it is you come, and even if your plans and purpose are right, know this – neither my Lord Diabolus, nor I, his servant, Incredulity, nor our brave Mansoul have any regard for either you, your message, or the King you say sent you. We do not fear His power, His greatness, or His vengeance. Nor will we surrender at all to your commands.\n\n\"As for the war you threaten to make against us, when that happens, we will defend ourselves as well as we can. So know we are not without the ability to attempt to defy you. And I won't drag this out, so let me make it clear. We think you are nothing more than some vagabond rebel troop, which has shaken off obedience to your King. Now you have gathered in a riotous manner and are roving from place to place to see if you can convince some silly town, city, or country to desert their place and leave it to you, based on the flatteries you are so skilled at making on the one hand. Then on the other hand, you deliver threats in the hope of frightening us. I tell you now, Mansoul is not one of them.\n\n\"I conclude with this. We do not dread you. We do not fear you, nor will we obey your missive. Our gates will remain closed to you, for we intend to keep you out. (The wise man fears and departs from evil, but the fool rages and is confident. – Proverbs 14:16) Nor will we put up with you sitting before our gate for long, for our people must live in quiet. Your very appearance prevents that because the sight of you disturbs them. Therefore arise, gather your belongings, and be gone, or we will unleash an attack against you from the walls.\"\n\nThis proclamation made by old Incredulity was seconded by desperate Willbewill. \"Gentlemen,\" he said, \"we have heard your demands and the clamor of your threats. We've heard your summons, but we do not fear your force, nor do we regard your threats. We have no intention to change and will continue to live in the same manner in which you found us.\" (I have seen this people, and for certain it is a stiffnecked people. – Exodus 32:9) He raised his voice a bit more forcefully. \"Now we command you to leave these parts within three days' time, or you shall learn firsthand what it means to rouse the lion Diabolus when asleep in his town of Mansoul.\"\n\nThe Recorder, whose name was Forget-Good, also added his outlook. He said, \"As you can see, my lords have answered your rough and angry speeches with mild and gentle words. In my own hearing, they have asked you to depart quietly and to return to wherever it is you came from. Understand that we could come out against you with force and strike a blow with our swords, but we love to live free of any unrest or annoyance and so desire to love and not to hurt or trouble others. Therefore, accept their kind offering and be gone.\"\n\nIn response to this, the town of Mansoul rang the bells, celebrated, danced upon the walls, and shouted for joy as if Diabolus and his crew had gotten the upper hand over the captains.\n\nSatisfied with this response, Diabolus returned to the castle, and the Mayor and Recorder also went home. However, Willbewill stayed and took special care to be sure the gates were secured. He doubled the guards, put in place twice as many bolts, and doubled the locks and bars. He especially paid attention to securing the Ear-gate because the King's forces sought most to enter that gate.\n\nWillbewill promoted old Mr. Prejudice, an angry, ill-tempered fellow, to captain the area at that gate. Then he placed sixty deaf men under his authority, for they were strategically beneficial for that particular service, because anything the captains or soldiers had to say would not matter, because they could not hear it. (Yet he sent prophets to them to bring them again unto the LORD, and they testified against them, but they would not give ear. – 2 Chronicles 24:19)\n\nChapter 7\n\nWinter in Mansoul\n\nNow when the captains heard the answer of those over Mansoul and saw they couldn't get a hearing from the old natives of the town, it was clear Mansoul was determined to battle the King's army. They prepared to pursue them in battle and win them by the power and influence of the army.\n\nFirst, they fortified their troops against Ear-gate, because they knew that unless they could penetrate that gate, no good could be done for the town. After they finished positioning troops at Ear-gate, they put the rest of their men in strategic places. Then they passed this message on with a shout, \"You must be born again!\" (Jesus answered and said unto him, Verily, verily, I say unto thee, Except a person be born again from above, he cannot see the kingdom of God. – John 3:3) They followed this with the sounding of the trumpet. Those in the town answered them with shout for shout, order against order, and so the battle began. (And when ye go to war in your land against the enemy that oppresses you, then ye shall blow an alarm with the trumpets. – Numbers 10:9a)\n\nNow those in the town had installed two great guns upon the tower over Ear-gate. The one gun was called High-Mind and the other Heady. They put much trust in these two weapons, which were cast in the castle by Diabolus's founder, Puff-Up. He was one skilled in casting metals in various forms; he crafted these guns to do much harm, with which the townsfolk meant to annoy the camp of Shaddai and secure the gate. However, the captains' vigilant and watchful eyes spotted the guns straightaway, and they were prepared. As a result, the shots whizzed by their ears without doing them harm. The townsmen also had other small fragments which they made use of against the camp of Shaddai, but other than that, they didn't accomplish much to boast about.\n\nThe King's captains had brought with them several slings used to throw stones and two or three battering rams. With these instruments of war, those from the camp returned fire upon the town and targeted Ear-gate. They performed their duty with such strength of purpose that, in truth, it could only be described as valor. They battered the houses and people of the town, and with their rams they sought to break Ear-gate open, for they knew that unless they broke open Ear-gate, battering the wall would be futile.\n\nThe First Attack on Ear Gate\n\nThe camp and the town had several skirmishes and brisk encounters. The captains made numerous brave attempts to break open or beat down the tower over Ear-gate with their instruments of war. But Mansoul stood her ground, as they drew energy from the rage of Diabolus, the bravery of Willbewill, and the actions of old Incredulity. Plus, the Mayor and Mr. Forget-Good, the Recorder, encouraged them by saying Mansoul had \"regained the advantage\" and that the \"King's side seems to be losing this summer's wars.\"\n\nWhen the captains saw how it was going, they made a clean retreat and entrenched themselves in their winter quarters. While you might think there was much loss on both sides of the battle in this war, this is what happened.\n\nThe King's captains, when they marched from the court to come up against Mansoul, had crossed through the country. On the way, they happened upon three young fellows who desired to become soldiers. They were polite men, who looked to be men of courage and skill. Their names were Tradition (Full well ye reject the commandment of God, that ye may keep your own tradition. – Mark 7:9), Human-Wisdom (There is a way that seems right unto a man, but the end thereof are the ways of death. – Proverbs 16:25), and Man's-Invention (And now they sin more and more, and of their silver they have made molten images according to their own intelligence, idols, all of it the work of the craftsmen. – Hosea 13:2a). These three approached the captains and offered their services to Shaddai. The captains explained their plans and suggested the young men not be too hasty with their offers.\n\nBut the three said, \"We have considered our decision for some time, for we have heard about your plans. We purposely came to meet you with the hope that we might be enlisted under your charge.\"\n\nCaptain Boanerges studied them, as he considered their offer, and because they seemed to be men of courage, he enlisted them into his company, and away they went to the war. Now, when the war began, during one of the briskest skirmishes, a company of the Lord Willbewill's men rushed out from a back gate and attacked Captain Boanerges's men from the rear. These three fellows happened to be at the back of the ranks; during this heated skirmish, they were taken as prisoners and carried away into the town.\n\nThey hadn't been there long when talk of their capture spread through the streets with people saying, \"Lord Willbewill's men have taken three notable prisoners out of the camp of Shaddai.\" This news about the prisoners finally reached the ears of Diabolus in his castle, and Diabolus called for Willbewill to learn the details of this matter.\n\nWillbewill gave his account of the battle and the capture of the three men, and when he'd finished, the giant sent for the prisoners. When they appeared before him, Diabolus demanded, \"Who are you? Where did you come from? And what did you do in the camp of Shaddai?\"\n\nThe three prisoners didn't hesitate to answer. When they finished, he sent them back to prison under guard. Not many days later, he sent for them again. This time he asked if they would be willing to serve him against their former captains. The three looked at each other, shrugged, and nodded. This offer seemed agreeable to them. They said, \"We don't so much live by religion as by the fates of fortune. Since his lordship is willing to treat us with hospitality, we are willing to serve him.\" (And his sons did not walk in his ways but turned aside after greed, receiving bribes and perverting that which is right. – 1 Samuel 8:3)\n\nDiabolus then sent these men to one Captain Anything with a note to receive them into his company. This captain, known for performing whatever needed to be done in the town of Mansoul, read the note, which said:\n\nMy Dearest Anything,\n\nThe three men carrying this letter desire to serve me in the war. I know no better command to entrust them to than yours. Receive them in my name and make use of them against Shaddai and His men as needed.\n\nFarewell\n\nSo Anything received the young men and made two of them sergeants. However, the third, Man's-Invention, he made his flag bearer.\n\nWhile all this was going on, the camp of Shaddai continued their assault upon the town of Mansoul. They beat down the roof of the Lord Mayor's house, and with a sling they almost slew Willbewill, but he made a turn for the better and recovered. However, not everyone was so fortunate, for the captains had made a notable slaughter among the aldermen. With just one shot they cut off six of them, including Mr. Swearing, Mr. Whoring, Mr. Fury, Mr. Stand-to-Lies, Mr. Drunkenness, and Mr. Cheating. They also took out the two guns upon the tower over Ear-gate and laid them flat in the dirt.\n\nAs I mentioned earlier, the King's noble captains had pulled back to their winter quarters. They entrenched themselves with all their supplies and situated their troops to bring the best advantage to their King. The greatest annoyance to the enemy, while they were embedded in this way, was the captains' passionate outcries to the town of Mansoul about the impending wrath to come and the mercy offered by the King. (The king's wrath is as the roaring of a lion, but his favour is as dew upon the grass. – Proverbs 19:12) This plan hit the mark, as they did all they could to trouble the town.\n\nMansoul could no longer sleep without fear, and they were unable to enjoy excess pleasures of the table like gluttony and overindulgence. The war also prevented them from participating in habitual lewdness and the excessive pleasures of lust, as they had in the past.\n\nThe fervent messages from the camp of Shaddai came frequently with terrifying warnings upon warnings. First they were heard at one gate and then delivered at another and then again at all the gates at once. With such frequent threats of things to come when the nights were at their longest and the weather the coldest, the townsfolk no longer enjoyed peace as they once did. Consequently, that winter was most unseasonable for the town of Mansoul.\n\nSometimes the trumpets sounded, and from time to time, the slings whirled stones into the town. At times, ten thousand of the King's soldiers ran round the walls of Mansoul at midnight, shouting a battle cry. Occasionally, some in the town were wounded, and their mournful cries multiplied, to the great annoyance of the now-languishing town of Mansoul. Yes, those in Mansoul were very distressed with those who laid siege against them. I dare say even Diabolus, their king, lost much sleep.\n\nIn these days, new opinions began to run counter one to another in the minds of the men of the town of Mansoul. Some would say, \"There's no living like this.\"\n\nOthers would reply, \"This will be over shortly.\"\n\nThen a third would pipe up and say, \"Let us turn to King Shaddai and put an end to these troubles.\"\n\nBut a fourth came in with fear and said, \"I doubt He will receive us.\"\n\nThe old gentleman, Mr. Conscience, who served as the Recorder before Diabolus took Mansoul, also began to talk aloud. His words were like great claps of thunder to the town of Mansoul. No other outcry heard in the town was as dreadful as his, especially when combined with the noise of the soldiers and the shouting of the captains. (To whom shall I speak, and give warning that they may hear? behold, their ears are uncircumcised, and they cannot hearken, behold, the word of the LORD is unto them a reproach; they have no delight in it. – Jeremiah 6:10)\n\nWithin the town, things began to grow scarce. The things her soul lusted after were vanishing and pleasant things were being damaged and burned. Instead of beauty, wrinkles with signs of the shadow of death etched the faces of the inhabitants of Mansoul. How Mansoul longed to enjoy quietness and satisfaction of mind once again while joined with the most contemptible condition in the world!\n\nDuring the deep winter, the captains sent a message by the mouth of Boanerges's trumpeter. It was a missive to Mansoul to surrender to the great King Shaddai. They not only sent him once, but three times in hopes there might be some willingness to submit in Mansoul – that they might see things differently in response to the invitation. (And the LORD has sent unto you all his slaves the prophets, rising early and sending them; but ye have not hearkened, nor inclined your ear to hear. – Jeremiah 25:4)\n\nAs far as I could gather, the town would have surrendered before this time if it hadn't been for the resistance of old Incredulity and the fickle thoughts of Willbewill. Diabolus also began to talk in a manner contrary to reason, and therefore Mansoul didn't come together in agreement regarding surrender. They remained distressed under a host of perplexing fears.\n\nAs I told you, over the winter, the King's army sent three times to Mansoul to submit herself to Shaddai. The first time the trumpeter went, he carried words of peace, telling them the noble captains of Shaddai felt pity for the perishing town. He expressed deep sorrow at Mansoul's misery and was troubled to see them so strongly resist their own deliverance. The trumpeter told them, \"The captains told me to tell you that if poor Mansoul will humble herself and turn to Shaddai, her former rebellions and most notorious treasons will be forgiven and forgotten by your merciful King.\" (If my people, upon whom my name is invoked, shall humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from the heavens and will forgive their sin and will heal their land. – 2 Chronicles 7:14)\n\nHe went on to tell them not to act against their own best interest but to guard against standing in their own way, for it would only make them losers. Once the message was delivered, he returned to the camp.\n\nThe second time the trumpeter went to Mansoul, he treated them a little more harshly. After he sounded the trumpet, he told them their continuing rebellion provoked and inflamed the spirit of the captains who were committed to victoriously acquiring Mansoul or to give their lives in the effort. (Yet ye have not hearkened unto me, saith the LORD, that ye might provoke me to anger with the works of your hands to your own hurt. – Jeremiah 25:7)\n\nWhen he went the third time, he dealt with them even more directly, telling them that because they had been so entirely irreverent and impure, he didn't know whether the captains would be inclined to show mercy or judgment. \"They only commanded me to give you an order to open the gates to them.\" With his message delivered, he returned to the camp once again.\n\nThe Third Summons\n\nThese three summonses, especially the last two, distressed the town so much that they decided to gather to deliberate and share their opinions as to what to do. The result was this: Lord Willbewill would go up to Ear-gate and sound the trumpet to call the captains of the camp to come and engage in a mutual conversation.\n\nSo Willbewill sounded the trumpet from the wall, and the captains arrived, dressed in their armor with their ten thousands. Everything appeared favorable. The townsmen told the captains, \"We have heard and considered your summons and are willing to come to an agreement with you and your King Shaddai. However, we will only do so based on certain terms, articles, and propositions. By the order of our prince, we have been appointed to offer the following terms for consideration. We will agree to be one people with you upon these grounds:\n\n\"First, that Lord Mayor, Mr. Forget-Good, and the brave Willbewill might be the governors of the town, castle, and gates of Mansoul under Shaddai.\n\n\"Second, that no men who now serve under our great giant Diabolus will be thrown out of their homes or shelters by Shaddai, and that they be allowed to enjoy the freedom they have experienced until now in the famous town of Mansoul.\n\n\"Third, that the town of Mansoul will enjoy the same rights and privileges we've had formerly under the reign of King Diabolus, who is now and long has been our only lord and great defender.\n\n\"Fourth, that no new law, officer, or executioner of law or office will have any power over us, unless by our choice and with our consent.\n\n\"These are our propositions – our conditions of peace. Upon these terms, we will submit to your King.\" Willbewill finished with his head held high.\n\nWhen the captains heard this weak and feeble offer of the town of Mansoul with their abstruse and bold demands, once again the noble Captain Boanerges addressed them. \"O inhabitants of the town of Mansoul, when I heard your trumpet signaling us to come and discuss terms, I can truly say I was glad. And when you said you were willing to submit yourselves to our King and Lord, it pleased my heart even more. However, by your silly conditions and foolish, frivolous objections, you have laid the stumbling block of your iniquity before your own faces. (Son of man, these men have caused their uncleanness to come up over their heart and have established the stumblingblock of their iniquity before their face: should I be enquired of at all by them? – Ezekiel 14:3) My gladness turned to sorrow, and my rising hope of your return faded into a dreaded expectation of evil.\n\n\"I think old Ill-Pause, the ancient enemy of Mansoul, is the one who drew up such proposals, as you now present to us as terms of an agreement, but they don't deserve to be heard by any man who claims to serve Shaddai. Therefore, we jointly and with the highest disdain, refuse and reject such things as the greatest of iniquities. (For he flatters himself in his own eyes until his iniquity is found to be hateful. The words of his mouth are iniquity and deceit; he has left off to be wise and to do good. – Psalm 36:2-3)\n\n\"But, Mansoul, if you give yourselves into our hands, or rather into the hands of our King and trust Him and agree to His terms, I dare say you will find them to be most profitable for you. For when you come on His terms, we will receive you and be at peace with you. However, if you do not place yourselves in the arms of Shaddai our King and rely on Him, then nothing has changed. Things are as they were before, and as a result, we know what we must do.\"\n\nOld Incredulity, the Lord Mayor, grew red in the face and cried out to Mansoul, \"And who, being free of their enemies, as we are now, would be so foolish as to relinquish the staff of authority out of their own hands into the hands of they know not whom? I, for my part, will never surrender to such unlimited terms. After all, we don't know how their King executes law or justice, nor do we know the nature of His mind, particularly with regard to cravings and affections.\n\n\"It is said by some that He will be angry with His subjects if, by chance, they step away from His ways or plan for how to live regarding one's behavior in even the smallest way. Others say He requires much more from them than they can do. Therefore, it seems, Mansoul, it is wise for you to regard with care what you do in this matter, because once you surrender, you give up yourselves to another, and you are no longer your own. And to give yourselves up to an unlimited power goes against all reason. Think about it. You may indeed repent now, but once you do, you can never utter expressions of criticism or resentment. There can be no complaining or finding fault. Do you know that once you are His, which of you He will kill or which He will let live? You don't even know whether He might strike every one of us dead and send for new people to come and repopulate in order to establish His own country and have them come live in this town.\"\n\nThis speech of the Lord Mayor brought the people low and dashed their hopes of an agreement. Because of this, the captains returned to their trenches, to their tents, and to their men, and the Mayor went back to the castle and to his king.\n\nNow Diabolus had waited for his return, because he had heard that each side had reiterated their points. So when the Lord Mayor walked into the chamber of state, Diabolus greeted him. \"Welcome, my lord. How did matters go between you and them today?\"\n\nLord Incredulity presented himself to his king with a low, ceremonious bow and gave him an account of the whole matter, saying this is what the captains of Shaddai said, and this is what he said.\n\nUpon hearing what had transpired, Diabolus became very pleased. He commended Incredulity by saying, \"Lord Mayor, my faithful Incredulity, you have made your loyalty evident more than ten times already, and I have never found you untrue. I promise you, if we collide with Shaddai's army over this contention, I will place you in a position far better than Lord Mayor of Mansoul. I will make you my universal deputy, and next to me, you will have all nations under your supervision. You shall restrain them with chains so they cannot resist you. None of our subjects shall walk at liberty any longer, except for those who are content to walk in your shackles.\"\n\nNow the Lord Mayor left Diabolus's chamber with a smile on his face, for he had obtained the king's high regard. He returned to his house feeling dignified and exalted, and anticipated the time when his greatness would be expanded. (Pride comes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall. – Proverbs 16:18)\n\nNow it turned out that even though the Lord Mayor and Diabolus agreed on this plan, this rejection of the brave captains put Mansoul into an uprising. So while old Incredulity went into the castle to congratulate his lord regarding all that took place, something else they were quite unaware of was happening.\n\nChapter 8\n\nDiabolus Offers Compromise\n\nNews of all that occurred at Ear-gate had reached the ears of Lord Understanding, the old mayor who held that position before Diabolus came to the town, and the old Recorder, Mr. Conscience. They were not permitted to attend that debate, because Diabolus feared they would refuse to obey his orders in favor of the captains. But even though they were not there, they received word about all that was said and done. Understanding and Conscience were concerned about what had transpired. They gathered some of the town, helped them see the reasonableness of the noble captains' demands, and helped them grasp the bad consequences that would result from the speech old Incredulity had delivered. They pointed out how little reverence he showed to either the captains or their King in what he said and how he indirectly charged them with unfaithfulness and treachery.\n\n\"What else could they think He meant when He said He would not concede to their proposition?\" the two reasoned. \"Likewise, he concluded King Shaddai would destroy us when, in fact, He sent word He would show us mercy!\" (He shall have mercy on the poor and destitute and shall save the souls of the poor in spirit. – Psalm 72:13)\n\nThe multitude listened to the evidence presented by Understanding and Conscience and were convinced that what old Incredulity had done was evil. They began to meet in groups on every street corner and throughout Mansoul. First, they talked quietly among themselves, but then started to talk openly. Finally, they went back and forth throughout the town crying out, \"Oh, the brave captains of Shaddai! We wish we were under the authority of the captains and of Shaddai their King!\"\n\nWhen Lord Mayor Incredulity received news that Mansoul was in an uproar, he hurried down to calm the people. He thought he could pacify their enthusiasm by his importance and the look on his face, but when they saw him, they were not impressed by any such thing. They approached to attack him, and without a doubt they would have done him harm if he hadn't hurried to his house. The people followed him there and battered the house, trying to pull it down around him. However, their efforts failed because the house was solid and strong. So Incredulity took courage and spoke to the people from one of the windows. \"Gentlemen,\" he said, \"what is the reason for this violent uproar today?\"\n\nOld Incredulity Assailed by Understanding\n\nLord Understanding answered, \"It is because you and your master have not led according to truth and fact, as you should in regard to the captains of Shaddai. (No one calls for righteousness, nor do any judge by the truth; they trust in vanity, and speak vanities; they conceive trouble and bring forth iniquity. – Isaiah 59:4) You are guilty of three things.\n\n\"First, you did not allow Mr. Conscience or me to attend the hearing of your speech. Secondly, you offered terms of peace to the captains that by no means could be granted, unless they intended Shaddai should be a prince in title only, and that Mansoul should live on in the unlawful indulgence of lust, lewdness, and adultery, and in the empty pursuit of things to satisfy their desires. (The way of peace they did not know; nor is there anything straight about their ways; they have willfully made themselves crooked paths; whosoever goes therein shall not know peace. – Isaiah 59:8) It is easy to see that would result in Diabolus still being in power here while Shaddai would only be king in name. Thirdly, after the captains revealed the conditions by which they would mercifully receive us, you ruined it with your disgusting and ungodly speech which was not suited to the time or occasion.\"\n\nWhen old Incredulity heard this response, he cried out, \"Treason! Treason! To arms! To arms! O you who are trusted friends of Diabolus in Mansoul!\"\n\nUnderstanding said, \"Sir, you can try to twist my words to mean what you please, but I am sure the captains of such a high lord as theirs deserves better treatment than what you are giving.\"\n\nOld Incredulity frowned. \"That's a little better, sir.\" He held his chin a little higher and said, \"What I said, I said for my prince, for his government, and to quiet the people, whom you have caused to rebel against us by your unlawful actions.\"\n\nThe old Recorder, Mr. Conscience, said, \"Sir, you must not answer Lord Understanding in such a way. It is evident enough that he speaks the truth and you are an enemy to Mansoul. Be assured that your rude, disrespectful language is evil, and you have caused the captains grief. You have caused Mansoul harm because, if you had accepted the conditions they offered, the warning of the trumpet and the terror of war would have already ceased around Mansoul. But that dreadful sound continues because of the lack of wisdom in your speech.\" (My people were cut off because they lacked wisdom; because thou hast rejected wisdom, I will cast thee out of the priesthood. – Hosea 4:6a)\n\nOld Incredulity answered with a snarl. \"Sir, if I live through this, I will deliver your message to Diabolus, and then you shall have an answer. Until then, we will seek the good of the town and will not be asking advice from you.\" He jabbed his finger at the Lord Mayor.\n\nUnderstanding was not thwarted by Incredulity's response. He said, \"Sir, your prince and you are foreigners to Mansoul. By your actions you have brought us into greater difficulties. Be aware the only way you can be safe is to flee. Leave us and manage the best you can on your own or set us on fire and disappear in the smoke or leave by the light of our burning. Either way, just leave us in our ruins.\"\n\nUnderstanding's words soured the expression of Incredulity's face further. \"Sir, you forget you are under a governor. Me!\" He slapped his palm against his chest. \"You ought to behave like a subject. You can be sure when my lord the king hears about what you've done here today, he will be displeased.\"\n\nNow while these gentlemen engaged in scolding reprimands, Lord Willbewill, Mr. Prejudice, old Ill-Pause, and several of the newly appointed magistrates came down from the town's walls and gates. They asked, \"What is the reason for all this chaos and great uproar?\"\n\nEveryone began to answer at once. In the riotous confusion, nothing could be heard distinctly. After they ordered silence, sly old Incredulity spoke first. He said, \"My lord, here are a couple of irritable, cranky gentlemen, who by their bad dispositions and complaining, and I fear through the advice of one Mr. Discontent, have gathered this crowd against me. They have attempted to drive the town into acts of rebellion against our prince.\"\n\nAll the Diabolians who were present stood up and confirmed these things to be true.\n\nWhen it became apparent to those who supported Lord Understanding and Mr. Conscience that things were turning for the worse, they stepped forward to help them. The crowd split with a multitude gathered on each side.\n\nThose on Incredulity's side shouted for the two old gentlemen to be taken away to prison, while those who supported them bellowed that they should not. The two sides proclaimed loudly whom they favored. The Diabolians shouted out support for old Incredulity, Forget-Good, the new magistrates, and the great one Diabolus. The other side yelled, \"We support Shaddai, His Laws, the captains and their mercifulness, and commend their conditions and ways!\"\n\nThis bickering went on for a while until their heated words turned to blows with fists flying on both sides. Good old Mr. Conscience was knocked down twice by one of the Diabolians, whose name was Benumbing. And Lord Understanding had a close call with a handgun, but thankfully, the one who shot it was a poor aim.\n\nThe other side didn't escape unscathed, for Mr. Rashhead, a Diabolian, had his brains beaten out by Mr. Mind, Lord Willbewill's servant. And I laughed to see old Mr. Prejudice kicked and tumbled about in the dirt, because he had done nothing but hurt and damage to the town since he'd been made captain of a company of Diabolians. As they tumbled about, he fell beneath their feet, and some of Lord Understanding's party cracked the top of his head.\n\nMr. Anything proved lively in the noisy conflict, but both sides were against him because he never remained true to either side. For his bold friendship with both sides, he had one of his legs broken, and the one who did it wished it had been his neck.\n\nThe skirmish went on and more harm befell both sides. It was a wonder to see Lord Willbewill act so indifferently. He didn't seem to favor one side more than another, though one could see a smile play across his lips when old Prejudice took a tumble in the dirt. And when Captain Anything came limping up before him, he took little notice of him.\n\nThe uproar finally died down, and Diabolus sent for Lord Understanding and Mr. Conscience. He treated them harshly and threw them in prison, charging them as the ringleaders of this violent, unlawful riot in Mansoul. (And that which is right has departed, and righteousness withdrew afar off: for truth is fallen in the street, and equity could not enter. And the truth was taken captive; and he that departed from evil was imprisoned. – Isaiah 59:14-15a) With these two men out of the way, Diabolus hoped the town would settle down again, but this situation did not serve that purpose, for war was in all the gates.\n\nUnderstanding and Conscience Sent to Prison\n\nLet us return to the captains in our story. When they retreated from the gate and arrived back at the camp, they called a council of war to discuss what more they could do. Some said, \"Don't waste time. Let's rush upon the town.\" The majority of them, however, thought it better to go to the town again and ask them to surrender, because it appeared Mansoul was leaning more in that direction than before. They reasoned, \"If we offend them by acting rashly in a fit of temper, we may push even those who are inclined to follow us from agreeing with our call to follow the King.\"\n\nThey all agreed with this advice and called a trumpeter. They gave him the message to deliver, bid him Godspeed, and sent him on his way. Not many hours later, the trumpeter neared the wall of the town and headed to Ear-gate where he sounded his trumpet as he was commanded.\n\nThose within Mansoul came out to see what was the matter, and the trumpeter delivered his speech. \"O hard-hearted and wretched town of Mansoul, how long will you love the ease of your sinful, sinful life? And how long will you delight in your ignorance? (How long, ye simple ones, will ye love simplicity? and the scorners delight in their scorning, and the fools hate knowledge? – Proverbs 1:22) Do you still despise offers of peace and deliverance? Do you still refuse the precious offers of Shaddai and trust the lies of Diabolus? Do you think when Shaddai conquers you, and you remember the way you acted towards Him, that such memories will bring you peace and comfort? Or do you think by your disturbing language you can make Him bound away like a grasshopper? Why do you think He pleads to you? Do you think it is because of fear that you are stronger than He?\" (Their Redeemer is strong; the LORD of the hosts is his name: he shall thoroughly plead their cause that he may give rest to the land. – Jeremiah 50:34)\n\nHe gestured with an outstretched arm to the sky. \"Look to the heavens. See the stars and consider how high they are. Can you stop the sun from running its course, or hinder the moon from giving light? Can you count the number of the stars or stop the rains of heaven? Can you call for the waters of the sea to cover the face of the ground? Can you see every person who is proud and blindfold their faces in secret? (Where wast thou when I laid the foundations of the earth? Cause me to know, if thou hast understanding. Who ordered its dimensions, if thou knowest? Or who has stretched the line upon it? Upon what are its foundations founded? Or who laid its corner stone; when the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy? Or who shut up the sea with doors, when it broke forth, as if it had issued out of the womb? Hast thou entered into the springs of the sea? Or hast thou walked searching out the deep? – Job 38:4-8, 16)\n\n\"Yet these very things are just some of the works of our King, in whose name we call upon you this day, so you may be brought under His authority. In His name, therefore, I summon you again to surrender to His captains.\"\n\nWhen he finished delivering his speech, the Mansoulians seemed unsure of how to answer. Diabolus didn't want to give them time to think about it, so he took it upon himself to answer. First, he addressed his speech to the Mansoulians.\n\n\"Gentlemen,\" he offered them a toothy smile, \"and my faithful subjects, think about it. If what this summoner has said concerning the greatness of their King is true, by His awful majesty, which is calculated to strike fear in the hearts of man, you will always be kept in bondage. As a result, you will be forced to sneak about to do what you want to do. Even now, while He is at a distance, how can you bear to think of such a mighty One? And if you can't bear to think of Him while He is at a distance, how will you ever tolerate being in His presence?\" He rubbed his palms together eagerly. \"Instead, think about what is advantageous for you.\" He gestured toward them with an inclusive sweep of his hand. \"Remember the freedoms from obligations I have granted you – all of you.\n\n\"If all this man has said is true, how come the subjects of Shaddai are enslaved wherever they go? No one else in the universe is as unhappy or trampled upon as them.\n\n\"My dear Mansoul,\" he reached toward them with outstretched arms, \"wouldn't you hate to leave me as much as I would hate to leave you? Think about it, for the choice is now yours. It's your play. You have the freedom to do what you want. If you know how to use that wisdom, then you'll discover how to love and obey your king.\"\n\nWhen they heard this speech, the town of Mansoul hardened their hearts again even more against the captains of Shaddai, because thoughts of Shaddai's greatness overwhelmed them. Thinking about His holiness sunk them into despair. (And all the people saw the thunderings and the lightnings and the noise of the trumpet and the mountain smoking; and when the people saw it, they trembled and stood afar off. And they said unto Moses, Speak thou with us, and we will hear; but let not God speak with us lest we die. – Exodus 20:18-19)\n\nAfter consulting together, those of the Diabolian party sent the trumpeter back to the captains with this message: As far as they were concerned, they planned to stick with their king and never surrender to Shaddai. They went on to say that from their way of thinking, it was pointless for the captains to deliver any further summons, for they would rather die where they were than surrender. (O sinful nation, people laden with iniquity, generation of evildoers, corrupt sons! They have forsaken the Lord; they have provoked the Holy One of Israel unto anger; they have turned back. – Isaiah 1:4)\n\nNow, based on this report, Mansoul seemed out of reach once again, but the captains knew what their Lord could do and did not lose hope. They sent another summons to Mansoul, sterner than the last, but the more they tried to reconcile Mansoul to Shaddai, the more the people responded by going further from them, even though they called them to the Most High. (But now, having known God, or rather being known of God, how do ye turn again to the weak and beggarly elements, in which ye desire again to be in slavery? – Galatians 4:9)\n\nSo they ceased dealing with them in this manner, and going forward they searched for another way to reach Mansoul. The captains gathered and talked freely among themselves to determine what they could do to gain the town and deliver it from the tyranny of Diabolus. They tossed about possible plans with one saying one thing and another something else.\n\nThen the noble Captain Conviction stood up and said, \"My brothers, this is what I think we should do. First, we must continue to employ our slings against the town to generate a sense of urgent alarm – to trouble them day and night. In this way, we shall curb their enthusiastic spirit, for even a lion can be tamed by continual provocation.\n\n\"Secondly, I suggest we come together and draw up a petition to our Lord Shaddai to make clear to our King the matters taking place here and the condition of Mansoul. We should beg His pardon for our lack of success, implore His Majesty's help, and ask that He please send more forces and power. To be sure His Majesty doesn't lose the ground He has gained and may complete His conquest of the town of Mansoul, we should ask Him to send a courageous, well-spoken commander to head them.\"\n\nThe others agreed with everything the noble Captain Conviction said and arranged for a petition to be drawn up and sent by a runner to Shaddai with speed. This is what the petition said:\n\n\"Most gracious and glorious King, Lord of the world and builder of the town of Mansoul, we live in awe of You, our Sovereign King. At Your command, we willingly placed our lives in jeopardy. At Your bidding, we made war upon the famous town of Mansoul. When we went up against it, we followed our orders. First, we offered conditions of peace, but they did not accept our admonition. They shut their gates to keep us out of the town and chose to continue to live according to their own standards. They mounted guns, which they used to attack us and have done what they can to bring us harm. Even so, we warned them again and again and gave them notice that suitable retribution would fall upon them as a result. We have even executed some in the town.\n\n\"Diabolus, Incredulity, and Willbewill are, in large part, those who act against us. We are currently held up in our winter quarters, so at this time we can only badger and distress the town.\n\n\"As we think further about this situation, we realize if we'd had even one solid friend in the town, such a friend would have stepped up and supported the truth of our summons. Then the people might have surrendered themselves, but the town housed only enemies. No one spoke on behalf of our Lord. Even though we have done what we could, Mansoul still lives in a state of rebellion against You.\n\n\"Now, King of kings, please forgive us. For we, Your servants, have been unsuccessful and of no use to You in the desirable work of conquering Mansoul. For this reason, Lord, we ask that You send more forces and a man to lead them to Mansoul, so the town will both love and fear You and be subdued.\n\n\"We don't speak this way because we want to abandon our post, for we are willing to lay down our lives for this war. We say these things because we desire the town of Mansoul to be won for You. With this in mind, we pray forces will be dispatched quickly in this matter, and after their conquest, we may have the opportunity to take part in some of Your other merciful plans. Amen.\"\n\nOnce the petition was drawn up, they sent it away to the King by the hand of that good man, Mr. Love-to-Mansoul.\n\nWhen this petition arrived at the King's palace, it was delivered into the hand of the King's Son. He opened the message and read it and thought it proper to carry the petition to the King Himself. After He bowed before His Father and delivered the petition, He stepped into His position of authority and spoke about His support of the petition.\n\nNow when the King saw the petition, it gladdened His heart, and even more so when His Son supported it. It pleased Him to hear that His servants who camped against Mansoul were so zealous and sincere in the work He sent them to do, not to mention they were so unwavering in their determination and had already gained some ground near to the famous town. And when He finished reading the petition, the King called Emmanuel, His Son.\n\n\"I am here, My Father.\"\n\nThe King said, \"You know as well as I do the condition of Mansoul, what we have planned, and what You have done to purchase it back. (So also the Christ is offered once to take away the sins of many; and unto those that wait for him without sin he shall appear the second time unto saving health. – Hebrews 9:28) Come now, My Son, and prepare Yourself for the war, for I am sending You to My camp at Mansoul. You shall prosper and prevail and conquer the town of Mansoul.\"\n\nEmmanuel bowed His head in respect. \"Your Law is within My heart. I delight to do Your will. (And this is the Father's will who has sent me, that of all whom he has given me I should lose nothing but should raise it up again in the last day. And this is the will of him that sent me, That every one who sees the Son and believes in him may have eternal life, and I will raise him up in the last day. – John 6:39-40) This is the day I have waited for all this while. (For the Son of man shall come in the glory of his Father with his angels, and then he shall reward everyone according to their works. – Matthew 16:27) Please, grant me whatever force You in Your wisdom think proper, and I will go and deliver Your perishing Mansoul from Diabolus and from his power. (When the Son of man shall come in his glory and all the holy angels with him, then he shall sit upon the throne of his glory. – Matthew 25:31) My heart has often hurt for the miserable town of Mansoul, but now it rejoices and is glad.\" (The Spirit of the Lord GOD is upon me because the LORD has anointed me; he has sent me to preach good tidings unto those who are cast down; to bind up the wounds of the broken-hearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those that are bound. – Isaiah 61:1)\n\nChapter 9\n\nThe Coming of Emmanuel\n\nEmmanuel leaped over the mountains for joy and said, \"Until now, I have held Mansoul very dear in My heart, but this day the need for vengeance is also in My heart for Mansoul, and I am very glad, Father, that You have made Me the captain of their salvation. (And it shall be said in that day, Behold, this is our God, whom we have waited for, and he has saved us: this is the LORD, whom we have waited for, we will be glad and rejoice in his saving health. – Isaiah 25:9) I will begin to afflict all those who have afflicted My town of Mansoul and will deliver it from their hand.\"\n\nAfter the King's Son spoke to His Father in this way, news of what He said spread like lightning throughout the court. Soon, Emmanuel's plan to go to the famous town of Mansoul and what He was going to do there was the only thing anyone talked about. Even the companions and advisors to the King were taken with the Prince's plan and with the justness of the war. Everyone longed to serve under Emmanuel, even the highest lord and greatest noble of the kingdom. All wanted to go and help recover the miserable town of Mansoul again for Shaddai.\n\nIt was decided. News would be sent ahead to the camp to let the captains know Emmanuel was coming to claim Mansoul. (Behold, I send my messenger, and he shall prepare the way before me; and the Lord, whom ye seek, shall suddenly come to his temple, and the angel of the covenant, whom ye desire: behold, he comes, said the LORD of the hosts. – Malachi 3:1) Oh, you should have seen how eager the high ones at court were to run like a servile footboy to carry this news to the camp at Mansoul.\n\nWhen news arrived that the great King Shaddai was sending Emmanuel, His Son, and that Emmanuel was delighted at being sent on this errand, the captains showed their pleasure with a great shout loud enough to split the earth. The mountains echoed the sound, and even Diabolus tottered and shook. But as for the town of Mansoul, they were an unwise lot with minds bent on foolishness, dwelling chiefly on their pleasure and lust. For this reason, they weren't concerned with this development. (The foolishness of man perverts his way, and his heart is wroth against the LORD. – Proverbs 19:3)\n\nHowever, Diabolus, their governor, was disturbed. He had spies outside of Mansoul who brought him intelligence about everything. He had heard about the plans formulated against him and knew Emmanuel would arrive soon with power to invade him. Diabolus feared no other man – whether at court or a noble of the kingdom – the way he feared this Prince. For, if you remember, I showed you earlier that Diabolus had already felt the weight of His hand, and the memory of this made him even more afraid.\n\nThe time drew near for the King's Son to depart from the court and set out to save Mansoul. His Father had made Him the captain of the forces, and His preparations were complete. He focused on marching out with five noble captains and their forces, whom He planned to take with Him.\n\nThe first captain, the famous Captain Credence, wore red colors, and Mr. Promise carried his standard. (O LORD, according unto thy word, which teaches me discernment and knowledge, for I have believed thy commandments. – Psalm 119:65b-66) The holy lamb was the symbol on his golden shield, and under his command he had ten thousand men.\n\nThe second captain of renown was Captain Good-Hope. (My soul, rest thou only in God, for my hope is from him. – Psalm 62:5) He wore the blue colors and his standard-bearer was Mr. Expectation. The three golden anchors marked his shield, and he too had ten thousand men under his command.\n\nThe third was the valiant Captain Charity. (Charity works no evil to a neighbor; therefore, charity is the fulfillment of the law. – Romans 13:10) His standard-bearer was Mr. Pitiful and he wore the green colors. On his shield was the symbol of three naked orphans embraced against a bosom. He too brought with him ten thousand men.\n\nThe fourth was the gallant commander Captain Innocency. (Do all things without murmurings and doubts, that ye may be blameless and innocent. – Philippians 2:14-15a) His standard-bearer was Mr. Harmless. Captain Innocency wore white and on his shield were three golden doves.\n\nThe fifth was the truly loyal and well-loved Captain Patience. (For patience is necessary, so that after ye have done the will of God, ye might receive the promise. – Hebrews 10:36) He dressed in black and his standard-bearer was Suffer-Long. On his shield were three arrows run through the golden heart.\n\nCaptain Patience and His Standard-Bearer, Mr. Sufferlong\n\nThese were Emmanuel's captains and their standard-bearers, their colors, and the markings on their shields. With them were the thousands under their command. So the brave Prince marched to the town of Mansoul with Captain Credence leading the foremost division and Captain Patience bringing up the rear. The other three captains and their men made up the main body of the army.\n\nThey set out with much fanfare. Trumpets sounded, armor glittered in the sunshine, and the standards of various colors waved in the wind. The Prince wore armor crafted of gold, and it shone like the sun in the sky as He rode in His chariot at the head of the march. The captains' armor had been proven to withstand shots discharged from firearms or cannons, and looked like glittering stars as they advanced. Some from the court also rode along because of their love for King Shaddai and their desire for the successful deliverance of the town of Mansoul.\n\nAs Emmanuel set out to recover the town of Mansoul, His Father commanded Him to take along fifty-four battering rams and twelve slings to whirl stones all at once. Every one of these was made of pure gold, and they were carried at the heart of the army as they traveled to Mansoul.\n\nThey marched until they came to within three miles of the town. They waited there until the first four captains who had been entrenched at Mansoul met with them to become familiar with the plan. Then they headed toward the town. When they arrived at Mansoul, the old soldiers who'd been camped there for some time brightened when they saw the new forces arriving to join them in the battle. They shouted a mighty shout outside the walls of the town, and the powerful noise frightened Diabolus again.\n\nThe army accompanying the first four captains settled outside the town, while the other four captains focused their forces at the gates of Mansoul. Altogether, the army encompassed the town on every side and hemmed it in on all sides, so no matter which way the Mansoulians looked, they saw the force and power-laying siege against the town.\n\nBulwarks created by great mounds of earth protected the massive troops from cannon fire. Mount Gracious stood on the one side with Mount Justice on the other. Several small banks were then created to help the army advance, including Plain-Truth Hill and No-Sin Banks. This is where they set up many of the slings against the town, with four set on Mount Gracious and another four on Mount Justice. The rest were placed in several places around the town. Five of the best and biggest battering rams were placed upon Mount Hearken, a mount firmly situated against Ear-gate with intent to break it open.\n\nNow when the men of the town saw the great multitude of soldiers advancing in their glittering armor, the colorful standards waving in the breeze with the rams, slings, and bulwarks that provided additional offensive protection – all coming against Mansoul – they were forced to change position. The circumstances forced them to change their thinking. At first, they grew more obstinate, thinking they were sufficiently protected, but now with the large army approaching, they grew disheartened and said, \"No one can tell what might happen.\"\n\nWhen good Prince Emmanuel surrounded Mansoul in this way, He hung out the white flag among the golden slings on Mount Gracious. He did this for two reasons: first, to make it clear to Mansoul that He could and would still be gracious, if they turned to Him. (Unto him all prophets give witness, that whosoever believes in him shall receive remission of sins through his name. – Acts 10:43) And secondly, He wanted to leave them without excuse and to know if they continued in their rebellion, He would destroy them. (If I had not come and spoken unto them, they would not have sin; but now they have no excuse for their sin. – John 15:22)\n\nSo the white flag bearing three golden doves hung in plain sight for two days to give the Mansoulians time and space to consider His offer; but even though the whole town could see the Prince's favorable signal, they acted unconcerned and ignored it.\n\nThen He commanded, \"Set the red flag upon Mount Justice.\" This was the red flag of Captain Judgment, whose shield bore the emblem of the burning fiery furnace. It represented the Prince's right and power to pass sentence. (For we are sure that the judgment of God is according to the truth against those who do such things. – Romans 2:2) This red flag stood waving in the wind in the view of all for several days, but above it waved the white flag. Yet He didn't advance on them.\n\nWhen they did not respond, He sent out another command. \"Hang the black flag of defiance against them.\" This flag bore the emblem of three burning thunderbolts and represented a challenge to fight. But again, it didn't matter to Mansoul, for they remained as unconcerned as before.\n\nWhen the Prince witnessed Mansoul's lack of response to mercy, judgment, and even execution of judgment, His heart filled with sorrow. (Because of my strong sorrow, my heart is faint in me. – Jeremiah 8:18) When He considered the fact that none came close to touching the heart of Mansoul, He said, \"Surely Mansoul's strange behavior must come from ignorance of the traditions and exploits of war rather than from a hidden rebelliousness toward us and an abhorrence of their own lives. (Having the understanding darkened, being alienated from the life of God through the ignorance that is in them because of the blindness of their heart. – Ephesians 4:18) Or perhaps they only know their own customs and don't know the meaning of the practices used when I go to war against My enemy Diabolus.\"\n\nTherefore, He sent a messenger to the town of Mansoul to make clear to them the meaning of the flags and ask them which of the things they would choose: grace and mercy, or judgment and the execution of judgment.\n\nAll this time, Mansoul kept their gates shut, locked, bolted, and barred to make it as secure as they knew how, and increased their vigilance by doubling their guards and watchmen. Diabolus mustered what influence he could to encourage the town to resist with all their might.\n\nWhen Prince Emmanuel's messenger delivered His communication, the townsmen sent back this answer:\n\n\"Great sir, regarding the message sent to us in which You asked whether we will accept Your mercy or fall by Your justice, we cannot answer. We are bound by the law and custom of this place and aren't allowed to give You a favorable or any other answer. It is against the law of the government put in place by our king. It is his privileged royal power to make either peace or war. Without him we can do nothing in this regard. However, this is what we will do: we will petition our prince to come to the wall and treat You in whatever way he thinks best for us.\"\n\nWhen the good Prince Emmanuel heard this answer and witnessed the slavery and bondage of the people and how content they were to live in the chains of the tyrant Diabolus, it grieved His heart. (Forty years long I was grieved with this generation and said, It is a people that err from the heart, who have not known my ways. – Psalm 95:10) And when He realized without a doubt that they were content to live enslaved under the hand of the giant, it influenced His decision. But for now, let's get back to the story.\n\nThe town carried this news to Diabolus. They told him about the Prince, the forces He amassed outside the wall, and His petition regarding mercy or judgment. Then they waited for an answer.\n\nDiabolus refused the Prince's mercy and huffed about in an angry fit, but inwardly his heart filled with fear. He pounded his chest and said, \"I will go down to the gates myself and give Him my answer as I see fit.\" So Diabolus stomped down to Mouth-gate and directed his speech to Emmanuel, but he spoke in a language the town didn't understand and stayed out of the line of sight of the people.\n\n\"O the great Emmanuel, Lord of all the world, I know who You are.\" Diabolus cowered as he spoke. \"I know You are the Son of the great Shaddai! (Thou believest that God is one; thou doest well; the demons also believe and tremble. – James 2:19) Have You come to torment me and to cast me out of my possession?\" (And, behold, they cried out, saying, What have we to do with thee, Jesus, thou Son of God? Art thou come here to torment us before the time? – Matthew 8:29) He flinched as if expecting Emmanuel to strike. \"As You very well know, this town of Mansoul is mine, for my ownership rights are twofold.\n\nDiabolus's Appeal to Emmanuel\n\n\"First of all, it is mine by right of conquest. I won it. Shall the booty be taken from the mighty or the lawful captive be delivered?\" (Shall the prey be taken from the mighty, or the lawful captive delivered? – Isaiah 49:24) Again, he recoiled from the greatness of the Prince.\n\n\"Secondly, this town of Mansoul is mine because they have been brought under my dominion. They opened the gates of their town to me, swore loyalty to me, and openly chose me to be their king. They even placed their castle under my control.\" His top lip curled in a smile that stretched into a sneer, but he continued to cower, for he could not stand in His greatness. \"Yes, they have put all the strength of Mansoul under my authority.\n\n\"Not only that, but Mansoul has renounced You.\" Diabolus crouched, expecting the Prince to respond. \"They have thrown away everything related to You – Your Law, Your name, Your image – and in Your place they have accepted me. They have embraced my law, my name, my image, and all that is mine.\" He flinched and for a moment closed his eyes. When Emmanuel said nothing, Diabolus opened one eye and then the other. \"If You don't believe me, talk to Your captains. They will tell You how Mansoul has shown love and loyalty to me every time they answered Your captains' warnings.\" Again, he cowered in fear. When Emmanuel didn't respond, he pushed to finish his point. \"But they always showed disdain, violent hatred, contempt, and scorn for You,\" he jabbed his crooked finger toward the Prince, \"and anything to do with You.\" He pulled his finger back and looked at the ground and then back at the Prince. \"You are the Just One, the Holy One who should do no injustice or unrighteousness. (Who did no sin neither was guile found in his mouth, who, when he was cursed, did not return the curse; when he suffered, he did not threaten, but committed himself to him that judges righteously. – 1 Peter 2:22-23) So I ask You to leave, for this is my rightful inheritance.\"\n\nEven though he could speak to the men in their own language, Diabolus made this judicial plea to stay in Mansoul in his own language – the language of the lower regions from the black pit of hell. And because the town of Mansoul couldn't understand a word he said and couldn't see how he crouched and cringed while he stood before Emmanuel, their true Prince, they thought of Diabolus as a powerful force that couldn't be resisted.\n\nThe inhabitants boasted about his valor: \"Who is able to make war with him?\" while in reality they didn't realize Diabolus pleaded his case so Emmanuel wouldn't take Mansoul from him by force but would allow him to continue his residence there.\n\nWhen this counterfeit king finished speaking, Emmanuel, the golden Prince, stood up and spoke. \"You deceiving one,\" He began. \"In My Father's name, in My name, and for the good of this wretched town of Mansoul, I have something to say to you.\n\n\"You pretend to have a right, a lawful right, to the deplorable town of Mansoul, but it is clear to all My Father's court that you gained entrance at the gates of Mansoul through your lies and untrue assertions. (The getting of treasures by a lying tongue is a vanity tossed to and fro of those that seek death. – Proverbs 21:6) You falsely represented My Father and His Law and deceived the people of Mansoul. You pretend the people have accepted you for their king, their captain, and are bound to serve you as lord, but this too was brought about by deceit and cunning.\n\n\"Now, if lying, deviousness, sinful tricks, and all types of horrible hypocrisy are allowed in My Father's court where you must be tried to claim the right to Mansoul, then I agree you have made a lawful conquest. But oh, what a thief you are. What tyrant or Devil is there that can't conquer by following such tactics as these? You see I can make a case that shines light on you in all your false and hypocritical pretenses to a conquest of Mansoul, for you speak no truth.\n\n\"Do you think it was right that you made it look like My Father was the one lying and made Him appear to Mansoul like the greatest deluder in the world? And what do you have to say about the way you knowingly perverted the true purpose and intent of the Law? (Therefore the law was our schoolmaster to bring us unto Christ, that we might be justified by faith. – Galatians 3:24) Was it good that you plundered the innocence and simplicity of the now-miserable town of Mansoul?\n\n\"Yes, you overcame Mansoul by promising them happiness while they violated My Father's Law. If you had referred to anything but your own experience, you couldn't help but know that was the way to bring them to everlasting destruction and misery. (And I will send the sword, the famine, and the pestilence upon them until they be consumed from off the land that I gave unto them and to their fathers. – Jeremiah 24:10)\n\n\"O you master of malevolence and spite, you have defaced My Father's image in Mansoul and set up your own in its place to the great disrespect of My Father, thus exalting your own sin and doing intolerable damage to the perishing town of Mansoul.\n\n\"As if all these were but trivial matters to you, you've not only deluded and ruined this place, but by your lies and fraudulent acquisition of Mansoul, you have also turned them against their own deliverance. How is it that you have galvanized them against My Father's captains and made them fight against those who were sent to deliver them from bondage?\n\n\"You have done all these things and more in contempt of My Father and of His Law, and it will all be held against you, for you've done all this to stir My Father's anger against the miserable town of Mansoul forever.\n\n\"For this reason, I've come to avenge the wrong you have done to My Father and to deal with you for the contemptuous and irreverent words you have spoken against Him and which you have used to cause poor Mansoul to blaspheme His name. (And shall not God avenge his own elect who cry day and night unto him though he bears long regarding them? I tell you that he will avenge them speedily. – Luke 18:7-8a) You prince of the lower regions of hell, I will repay you for this.\n\n\"As for Myself, Diabolus, I have come against you to take this town of Mansoul by force out of your burning fingers, for it is Mine. That's an indisputable claim as all who search the most ancient and authentic records shall see. And to your shame, I argue this in defense of My right to it.\n\n\"First, my Father fashioned the town of Mansoul. With His hand He built every part of it, including the palace at the center of town. He built it for His delight. Therefore, this town of Mansoul is My Father's by rights of highest power, and he who denies the truth of this is a liar.\n\n\"Secondly, O you master of the lie, this town of Mansoul is Mine. I am My Father's heir, His firstborn, and the only delight of His heart. Therefore, I come against you in My own right to recover My inheritance from out of your hand.\n\n\"By being My Father's heir, I have a right and claim to Mansoul. I have My Father's contract, which wills it to Me as a gift. It was His, and He gave it to Me. I have never, at any time, offended My Father so that He would take it from Me and give it to you. Nor have I ever been forced to sell My beloved town of Mansoul to you or even put it up for sale. It is My heart's desire and joy to possess Mansoul.\n\n\"Mansoul is also Mine by right of purchase, for I have bought it for Myself, Diabolus. Now, since it was My Father's and Mine, as I was His heir, I have also made it Mine because I have purchased it. (Ye were sealed with that Holy Spirit of the promise, which is the earnest of our inheritance unto the redemption of the purchased possession, unto the praise of his glory. – Ephesians 1:13b-14) It follows that by all lawful claims, the town of Mansoul is Mine and you are a usurper, a tyrant, and a traitor who seized and occupied My property and are holding possession of it without any right.\n\n\"Now, the reason I purchased Mansoul was this: It voluntarily violated My Father's divine Law and commands. On the day they broke His Law, My Father said they would die. (For Adam was formed first, then Eve. And Adam was not deceived, but the woman was deceived in the rebellion. – 1 Timothy 2:13-14) And My Father's Word is true, for it is more possible for heaven and earth to pass away than for My Father to break His Word. (The grass withers, the open flower fades; but the word of our God shall stand for ever. – Isaiah 40:8)\n\n\"Therefore, when Mansoul sinned by listening to your lie, I became a surety to My Father on their behalf and put in body for body and soul for soul. (By so much better testament is Jesus made surety – Hebrews 7:22). In this way, I made amends for Mansoul's transgressions, and My Father accepted My sacrifice. When the appointed time came, I gave body for body, soul for soul, life for life, blood for blood, and so redeemed My beloved Mansoul. (For the Christ also has once suffered for sins, the just for the unjust, that he might bring us to God, being put to death in the flesh, but made alive in spirit. – 1 Peter 3:18)\n\n\"I didn't do this half-heartedly or incompletely but with all My heart. As far as My Father's Law and justice were concerned, regarding the impending consequences, both are now satisfied and agree Mansoul should be delivered.\n\n\"Nor have I come here today against you, but rather by the command of My Father who sent Me as He said, 'Go down and deliver Mansoul.'\n\n\"Therefore, know this, you fountain of deceit and you too, foolish town of Mansoul, that I haven't come against you this day without My Father.\"\n\nThe golden-haired Prince then addressed the town of Mansoul directly. \"I also want to speak to you, town of Mansoul.\" But as the words fell from His lips, the gates were double-guarded, and all men were commanded not to listen to a word He said. However, the Prince was not thwarted. He said, \"O unhappy town of Mansoul, I can't help but feel pity and compassion for you. You have accepted Diabolus as your king and have been nurtured and served as Diabolians against your sovereign Lord.\n\n\"You have opened your gates to him but have shut them fast against Me. You listen to him, but you have stopped your ears to anything I have to say. He brought to you your destruction, and you received both him and it.\n\n\"I come to you bringing salvation, but you won't listen or pay attention to Me. (For the grace of God that brings salvation has appeared to all men, teaching us that denying ungodliness and worldly lusts, we should live temperately, righteously, and godly in this present world. – Titus 2:11-12)\n\n\"With polluted hands that have violated and profaned sacred things, you've taken yourself and all that was Mine and given it to My enemy – the greatest enemy My Father has. You have bowed and subjected yourselves to him; you have vowed and sworn yourselves to be his. Poor Mansoul! What shall I do to you? Shall I save you? Shall I destroy you? What, oh what, shall I do to you? Should I fiercely attack you and grind you to powder or make you a monument and reminder of the richest grace? Listen to Me, Mansoul; pay attention to what I'm saying to you and you shall live. I am merciful and you shall find Me, so don't shut Me out of your gates. (I have sent also unto you all my slaves the prophets, rising up early and sending them, saying, Turn ye now every man from his evil way, and amend your doings, and do not go after other gods to serve them, and ye shall live in the land which I have given to you and to your fathers: but ye have not inclined your ear, nor hearkened unto me. – Jeremiah 35:15)\n\n\"Mansoul, I haven't been ordered, neither am I inclined, to harm you. Why do you flee from your friend and yet cling to your enemy? Don't feel all is hopeless,\" He encouraged. \"This great force assembled isn't here to hurt you. It is sent to deliver you from your bondage and to bring you back to obedience. It is to your advantage to be sorry for your sin and to receive Me within your gates. (Behold, I stand at the door and call; if anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come into him and will sup with him, and he with me. – Revelation 3:20)\n\n\"My assignment is to make war upon Diabolus, your king, and upon all Diabolians who stand with him. He is the armed strong man who possesses the house, and I will evict him. I must take his spoils and divide his weapons. I must take his castle from him and occupy the house myself. And when all this comes to pass, Diabolus shall be made to follow Me in chains, and Mansoul will rejoice to see it. (No man can enter into a strong man's house and spoil his goods except he will first bind the strong man, and then he will spoil his house. – Mark 3:27)\n\n\"If I wanted to, I could enforce My might right now and cause him to leave you and go away. But in My heart, I desire to deal with him, so the justice delivered through the war upon him may be seen and acknowledged by all. He has taken Mansoul by deception, and he keeps it by violence and duplicity. I will make him bare and naked in the eyes of every observer, so they may see him as he truly is.\n\n\"All my words are true. I am powerful and strong enough to save and will deliver My Mansoul out of his hand.\"\n\nThis speech was intended chiefly for Mansoul, but they wouldn't listen to a word of it. They shut Ear-gate tight and barricaded it. (But they refused to hearken and pulled away the shoulder and stopped their ears that they should not hear. – Zechariah 7:11) They kept it locked and bolted, set up a guard, and commanded that no Mansoulian should go out to Him. They forbade any from the camp to be admitted into the town. They acted like this because Diabolus had dreadfully bewitched them to do and seek what he desired and to go against their rightful Lord and Prince. (O foolish Galatians, who has bewitched you that ye should not trust in the truth, before whose eyes Jesus Christ has been evidently set forth, crucified among you? – Galatians 3:1) For this reason, no thing or person representing the Prince or what He had to say was allowed to come into the town.\n\nChapter 10\n\nDiabolus Offers Compromise\n\nWhen Emmanuel saw the extent of Mansoul's sin and that even His words were despised, He called His army together and ordered them to ready themselves for the appointed time. (Because he has despised the word of the LORD and has made void his commandment, that person shall utterly be cut off; his iniquity shall be upon him. – Numbers 15:31)\n\nNow Ear-gate was the gate with the most influence; so in view of this and the fact that there wasn't another lawful way to take the town of Mansoul except to enter by the gates, Emmanuel commanded His captains and commanders to position their battering rams, their slings, and their men at Eye-gate and Ear-gate to take the town.\n\nWith His troops in place and ready for battle against Diabolus, Emmanuel sent one more message to the town of Mansoul to ask if there had been any change of heart and a willingness to surrender in a peaceable manner, or if they were still determined to force Him to exert the power of His fury.\n\nIn response to His message, the townsfolk of Mansoul and Diabolus their king called a council of war. First, they voted on whether or not counterpropositions should be offered to Emmanuel. They agreed it was a good idea to bargain with the Prince, but they had to decide which Diabolian to send on this errand. They chose an old man, a Diabolian in the town of Mansoul by the name of Loth-to-Stoop. He was a stubborn man set in his ways and one who did much for Diabolus. So they told him exactly what to say to Emmanuel.\n\nMr. Loth-to-Stoop Sent to the Camp of Emmanuel\n\nLoth-to-Stoop traveled into Emmanuel's camp at the appointed time, and they gave him a public reception. After a Diabolian rite of politeness or two, he delivered his message. \"Great sir, in order that it may be known to everyone how good-natured a prince my master is, he has sent me to tell Your Lordship that he is willing to deliver into your hands one-half of the town of Mansoul rather than go to war. I am here to find out whether or not Your Mightiness will accept this proposition.\"\n\nEmmanuel studied the stubborn little man for a moment and said, \"The entire town of Mansoul belongs to Me. My Father gave it to Me as a gift, and it is also Mine because I purchased it; therefore, I will not agree to lose one-half.\" (My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me; and I give unto them eternal life; and they shall never perish, neither shall anyone pluck them out of my hand. My Father, who gave them to me, is greater than all; and no one is able to pluck them out of my Father's hand. – John 10:27-29)\n\nLoth-to-Stoop didn't allow Emmanuel's words to sway him from his task. He countered, \"Sir, my master has said he will be happy to give You the nominal title 'Lord of all,' if he may possess but a part of Mansoul.\"\n\nEmmanuel shook His head. \"In reality, the whole town is Mine, not just in name and word. Therefore, I will be the sole Lord and possessor of all or of none at all.\"\n\nThe muscles in Loth-to-Stoop's jaw twitched. \"Sir, consider my master's voluntary relinquishment of his rank! He says he will be content just to be assigned some place in Mansoul to live privately, and you shall be Lord of all the rest.\"\n\nThe golden Prince said, \"All the Father has given Me shall come to Me, and of all He has given Me I will lose nothing – not even a hair. (All that the Father gives me shall come to me, and he that comes to me I will in no wise cast out. – John 6:37) So I will not grant him even a little corner of Mansoul to live in, for I will have it all to myself.\"\n\nLoth-to-Stoop didn't give up. He persisted in his master's plan. \"But sir, suppose my lord should resign the whole town to you with just this provision – that sometimes, when he comes into this country for old acquaintance's sake, he might be allowed to be entertained as a traveler for two days, or ten days, or maybe a month or so. Would you grant this one small matter?\"\n\n\"No.\" Emmanuel answered with a tone of finality. \"He came as a traveling man to David and didn't stay long with him, and yet it almost cost David his soul. I will not consent for Diabolus to take up lodging in Mansoul anymore.\"\n\nLoth-to-Stoop's brow knit into a scowl. \"Sir, you've become very difficult. Suppose my master surrenders all your Lordship has said, provided his friends and family in Mansoul can still have the freedom to do business in the town and enjoy living in their current homes. Can't you at least grant that, sir?\"\n\nOnce again, the golden Prince Emmanuel did not agree to the man's terms. \"No, that cannot be allowed, for it goes against My Father's will. Any Diabolians who now inhabit or who are found at any time in Mansoul shall not only lose their lands and freedoms but also their lives.\"\n\nLoth-to-Stoop's eyes grew round with astonishment. \"But sir, won't you at least let my master and great lord communicate by letter through travelers by chance opportunities and things like that, so he doesn't lose his friendship with Mansoul, if he delivers up everything to you?\"\n\n\"By no means!\" Emmanuel said. \"If any such fellowship, friendship, intimacy, or relationship is maintained in any way whatsoever, it would tend to corrupt Mansoul. (Therefore come out from among them, and be ye separate, saith the Lord. – 2 Corinthians 6:17a) Instead of the love or friendship they once showed Me, it would cause them to grow indifferent or antagonistic – alienating them from Me. And it would endanger their peace with My Father.\"\n\nLoth-to-Stoop did his best not to take no for an answer. He addressed the issue with Emmanuel from another direction. \"But, great sir, if my master departs from them, since he has many friends and dear ones in Mansoul, would you permit him to give them tokens of his love from his bountifulness and good nature? I'm talking about keepsakes of kindness from their old friend. Things to remember him by as the one who was once their king and the happy times they sometimes enjoyed with one another while they lived in peace.\"\n\n\"No.\" Emmanuel shook His head. \"If Mansoul becomes Mine, I won't admit or consent to the least scrap, shred, or particle of dust left behind by Diabolus as tokens or gifts given to anyone in Mansoul. What purpose would they serve except to function as a reminder of the horrible relationship they had?\"\n\n\"Well, sir,\" Loth-to-Stoop paused and pursed his lips, \"I have one more thing to propose, and then I will have completed the task for which I was sent.\n\n\"Suppose, after my master has left Mansoul, someone still living in the town has important business to conduct, and if they neglect to handle this business, they will be ruined. And suppose that nobody else can help them as well as my master and lord. Could my master be sent for on such an urgent occasion? Or, if he isn't allowed admittance into the town, would he and the person concerned be allowed to meet in some of the villages near Mansoul, so they could put their heads together and discuss these matters?\"\n\nThis was the last proposition with which Loth-to-Stoop hoped to ensnare Emmanuel on behalf of his master Diabolus, but Emmanuel did not fall for it. He said, \"Once your master is gone, there will be no case, disagreement, or anything else in Mansoul that cannot be solved by My Father. Allowing anyone from Mansoul to go to Diabolus for advice would be a great disparagement to My Father's wisdom and skill, when they are all invited to make every one of their requests known to My Father by prayer and petition. (Be anxious for nothing, but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known unto God. And the peace of God, which passes all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus. – Philippians 4:6-7) If I were to grant such a request, it would open the door for Diabolus and the Diabolians in Mansoul to scheme, plot, and come up with seditious plans, which would bring grief to My Father and Myself, as well as the utter destruction of Mansoul.\"\n\nWhen Mr. Loth-to-Stoop heard this, he said, \"I will carry Your answer concerning this whole affair to my master.\" With that, he turned his back to Emmanuel and departed. When he came to Mansoul, he headed directly to Diabolus and told him everything that had transpired. \"Once you leave Mansoul, Emmanuel will not allow you to enter again by any means. You will never have anything more to do in Mansoul or with anyone from the town.\"\n\nWhen Mansoul and Diabolus heard this news, they, in one accord, decided it best to try to keep Emmanuel out of Mansoul, so they sent old Ill-Pause to tell the Prince and His captains that they were rejecting His offer.\n\nThe old gentleman walked to the top of Ear-gate and called out to Emmanuel's camp for an audience, and when they granted it, this is the message he delivered: \"I have been commanded by my high lord to deliver this answer to you for your Prince Emmanuel.\n\n\"Mansoul and their king have determined to stand and fall together. You and your Prince will be unsuccessful if you think Mansoul will ever be in His hand, unless He can take it by force.\"\n\nAt hearing this rejection, some from the camp went in haste to Emmanuel and told Him what the old Diabolian, Ill-Pause, had said. When the Prince heard the sad news, he said, \"I must try the power of My sword. For even though they have rebelled and rejected My message until now, I will not raise My siege and just walk away. I will most assuredly deliver Mansoul from the hand of her enemy and take it as My own.\" (The high praises of God shall be in their mouth and a two-edged sword in their hand, to execute vengeance upon the Gentiles and punishments upon the peoples. – Psalm 149:6-7)\n\nChapter 11\n\nEmmanuel Confronts Diabolus\n\nEmmanuel ordered Captain Boanerges, Captain Conviction, Captain Judgment, and Captain Execution to immediately march up to Ear-gate while sounding their trumpets and flying their colors. He then ordered Captain Credence to join them. And to emphasize this show of strength, He told them to approach with a battle shout.\n\nAfter adding Captain Credence to the attacking force, Emmanuel ordered Captain Good-Hope and Captain Charity to draw up their troops before Eye-gate. He strategically placed the remaining captains and their men around the town for the best advantage against the enemy. All those under His authority did everything they were commanded. Then He ordered that the Word should go before them, and the Word at that time was Emmanuel. (In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with the God, and the Word was God. – John 1:1) An alarm sounded and the battering rams were put into motion along with the slings, which whirled huge stones into the main part of town. And so this is how the battle began.\n\nDiabolus himself controlled and directed the townsmen who were positioned at every gate. Their resistance was stronger and more wicked and aggressive toward Emmanuel. Diabolus and Mansoul kept the good Prince busy by for several days, and it was a sight to behold how the captains of Shaddai handled themselves in this war.\n\nCaptain Boanerges started the fight by making three fierce assaults upon Ear-gate, one after another, causing the posts of the gate to shake. Captain Conviction caught up with Boanerges, and both men perceived the gate was beginning to yield. Armed with this knowledge, they commanded the battering rams to continue the surge against the gate.\n\nNow Captain Conviction rode up near the gate, but he was driven back with great force. He received three wounds in the mouth, but some of the military, who had been driven back in this fashion, still went about to encourage the captains.\n\nWhen the Prince heard about the valor shown by these two captains, He sent for them to come to His pavilion and commanded them to rest awhile to refresh themselves. Care was also shown for Captain Conviction to heal his wounds, and the Prince gave each of them a chain of gold and told them to take courage. (Wait for the LORD: be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart; wait, I say, for the LORD. – Psalm 27:14)\n\nCaptain Good-Hope and Captain Charity fought well in this desperate fight, as they came against Eye-gate and almost broke it open. These captains also received a reward from their Prince because they fought valiantly.\n\nThe Captains Rewarded\n\nIn this engagement, several of Diabolus's officers were slain and some of the townsmen wounded. Among the slain officers was Captain Boasting who thought nobody could shake the posts of Ear-gate or raise doubt in the heart of Diabolus. Captain Secure was killed. He was the captain who said even the blind and lame in Mansoul could protect against Emmanuel's army and keep the gates from falling. Captain Conviction cut off the head of this Captain Secure with a two-handed sword, but he received the three wounds in his mouth at that time.\n\nAt Eye-gate, Captain Good-Hope inflicted a mortal wound in the breast of Captain Bragman, a popular fellow who was captain over a company of soldiers that threw firebrands and arrows.\n\nBeyond that, Mr. Feeling, who wasn't a captain, was wounded in the eye by one of Boanerges's soldiers. Mr. Feeling was a great one for standing on the sidelines to encourage Mansoul to rebellion and would have been killed by the captain himself if he hadn't made a hasty retreat.\n\nAnd I'd never seen Willbewill so intimidated in all my life. He wasn't able to do as he customarily did, and some of the men in the Prince's army saw him limp after he'd walked upon the wall and said he had received a leg wound.\n\nI won't go on with all the details and names of the soldiers who were slain in the town, for many were maimed, wounded, and slain. Projectiles flung by the golden slings hit their mark, and the force of the strike knocked the Diabolians from their feet and sent them tumbling through the air into the midst of the town of Mansoul. They lay scattered on the ground watching as the posts of Ear-gate shook and Eye-gate splintered. With the gate close to being broken open and some of their captains slain, the courage of many of them melted away.\n\nLove-no-Good, who was a townsman but also a Diabolian, was mortally wounded, but his life lingered for a time. And remember Mr. Ill-Pause? He's the one who came with Diabolus when he first attempted to take Mansoul. He received a serious head wound. Some reported that he suffered from a cracked skull. One thing I can tell you for sure is that since this incident, he's never been able to harm Mansoul as he'd done in the past. Plus, old Prejudice and Mr. Anything fled.\n\nNow, when the battle was over, the Prince commanded the white flag be set upon Mount Gracious once more in sight of the town of Mansoul. He did this to show the wretched town of Mansoul that Emmanuel still offered the gift of grace. (For by grace are ye saved through faith and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God, Not of works, lest any man should boast. – Ephesians 2:8-9)\n\nDiabolus saw the white flag hung out again and knew it wasn't for him but for Mansoul. So he figured out another trick to play to see if he could get Emmanuel to remove His besieging army and relinquish His attempt to take Mansoul: Maybe if Diabolus promised reformation of Mansoul. With this plan in mind, he came down to the gate one evening a good while after the sun had set and called to speak with Emmanuel.\n\nEmmanuel responded and came down to the gate. Diabolus addressed Him: \"Seeing that Your white flag makes it appear You are devoted to peace and quiet, I thought it a good idea to let You know we are ready to accept this, if You permit these terms.\n\n\"I know You are dedicated to devotion and that holiness pleases You.\" The corner of Diabolus's mouth lifted in a half-smile. \"Yes, I understand Your purpose in making war upon Mansoul so it may be a holy habitation. (Now therefore ye are no longer strangers and foreigners, but fellowcitizens with the saints and of the household of God, and are built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ himself being the chief cornerstone, in whom all the building fitly framed together grows unto a holy temple in the Lord, in whom ye also are being built together for the habitation of God in the Spirit. – Ephesians 2:19-22) I am here to say that if You withdraw Your forces from the town, I will make Mansoul submissive and cause them to bow to You.\n\n\"First, I will put hostility against You to rest and shall willingly become Your deputy. Putting forth the same effort I formerly used to work against You, I will now serve You in the town of Mansoul. I will persuade Mansoul to receive You as their Lord. Once they see I am Your deputy, I know they will do it sooner.\n\n\"I will also show them where they have erred and how sin stands in the way to life. I'll share the Holy Law with them, show them how they have broken it, and explain they must conform to it.\n\n\"I will impress upon them the necessity of a life reformed according to Your Law. I can put things in place so none of these things fail. I will even pay for the cost of setting up and maintaining a competent ministry with lectures in Mansoul. And as a token of our coming under Your control, You will receive whatever You see fit to levy upon us.\"\n\nEmmanuel listened patiently but wasn't fooled by Diabolus's ploy. He said, \"O you who are full of deceit, your ways are ever changing! (His mouth is full of cursing and deceit and fraud: under his tongue is mischief and vanity – Psalm 10:7). How often you have changed what you say and do and then changed again – all to pretend you are mighty enough to keep possession of My Mansoul. The fact is, I have been declared the rightful heir of Mansoul!\n\n\"You often make proposals, and these you've most recently fabricated are no better than the ones that came before. The point is, you fail to deceive when you show your true colors, but now you transformed yourself into an angel of light and are trying to deceive Me into thinking you are now as a minister of righteousness. (And it is no marvel, for Satan himself transforms himself into an angel of light. Therefore it is no great thing if his ministers transform themselves as ministers of righteousness, whose end shall be according to their works. – 2 Corinthians 11:14-15)\n\n\"But Diabolus, you know nothing can be respected that you propose, for your only motive is to deceive. You have no conscience toward God, nor do you love the town of Mansoul. For this reason, is it not obvious that the things you have said arise from sinful purposes and deceit? And to that point, if righteousness is such a beautiful thing in your eyes now, how is it you have stuck so closely to wickedness in the past?\n\n\"He who proposes whatever he pleases with the intent to destroy those who believe him should be abandoned, and everything he has said should be discounted. You talk about reformation in Mansoul and even say you will head that reformation. You say this, knowing the best that man can accomplish through the righteousness of the Law will amount to nothing in regard to taking away the curse from Mansoul. For Mansoul cannot be delivered from a curse pronounced by God for breaking a law by obeying the law – to say nothing of a reformation set up in Mansoul in which the Devil is to become the corrector of evil.\n\n\"You know all you have said in this matter is nothing but craftily disguised deceit. It is the first and last card you have to play. For now, only a few see through the disguise you wear, and while you may be dressed in white light, soon many will discern what you really are when you show them your cloven feet. For you will not deceive My Mansoul in this way, Diabolus, for I still love My Mansoul.\n\n\"I didn't come to push Mansoul to live by works. If I did, I would be like you. I've come so that by Me – and by what I have done and will do for Mansoul – they may be reconciled to My Father even though they have provoked Him to anger by their sin and can't obtain mercy by the law. (And all this by God, who reconciled us to himself by Jesus Christ, and gave us the ministry of reconciliation; for certainly God was in Christ, reconciling the world unto himself, not imputing their trespasses unto them and having placed in us the word of reconciliation. – 2 Corinthians 5:18-19)\n\n\"You talk about placing Mansoul under the power of good, when no one desires it at your hands. My Father sent Me to possess the town and guide it to be pleasing in His sight by bringing it into conformity to His will. (And be not conformed to this age, but be ye transformed by the renewing of your soul that ye may experience what is that good and well pleasing and perfect will of God. – Romans 12:2)\n\n\"Consequently, I will possess Mansoul and will strip you of your position and cast you out. I will pull this town down and rebuild it. I'll set up sovereign power for Myself in the heart of them and will govern them by new laws, new officers, new motives, and in a new way. (Therefore if anyone is in Christ, they are a new creation: old things are passed away; behold, all things are made new. – 2 Corinthians 5:17) It will be as though the old never existed, for it will become the glory of the whole universe.\"\n\nWhen Diabolus heard this, it became clear to him that Prince Emmanuel had discovered his deceptions. He was put to shame and so embarrassed that at first he couldn't decide what to do, but then he tapped into the fountain of iniquity, rage, and malice which sprung up within him. In his heart churned all he held against Shaddai and His Son and the beloved town of Mansoul. Deliberating on this renewed his strength and readied him for a fresh battle against the noble Prince Emmanuel, and with his renewed determination, he demanded another fight take place before the town of Mansoul could be taken.\n\nFor those of you who love to see military action, come up to the mountains and watch both sides of the battle and you'll witness how the fatal blow is delivered. You'll see how one seeks to hold, while the other seeks to make Himself Master of the famous town of Mansoul.\n\nDiabolus withdrew from the wall and returned to his strength and power at the heart of the town of Mansoul. Emmanuel also returned to His camp. With their differences and intentions clear, both drew into a battle posture ready to fight.\n\nFilled with despair about losing control of the famous town of Mansoul, Diabolus decided to do what harm he could to the army of the Prince and to the famous town of Mansoul. Unfortunately for Mansoul, he wasn't concerned about the happiness of the silly town. His plan was to bring it to utter ruin and to destroy everything within sight. With this plan in mind, he commanded his officers to render what harm and damage they could by drawing men, women, and children apart. And when the time should come that they saw the town could no longer be held, he said, \"Be sure to demolish the place and leave it a ruinous heap. Better that, than to leave it for Emmanuel to move in and make it His home.\"\n\nChapter 12\n\nEmmanuel's Victory\n\nEmmanuel knew the outcome of the next battle would result in His being made master of the place. He issued a royal command to all His officers, high captains, and men of war: \"Against Diabolus and all Diabolians, be sure to show yourselves men of war; but to the old inhabitants of Mansoul – the natives – show yourselves favorable, merciful, and meek. With this in mind, direct the fury of the frontline of battle against Diabolus and his men.\"\n\nWhen the day of battle arrived, the command was given. The Prince's men bravely put on their armor and weapons and headed into battle. (Put on the whole armour of God that ye may be able to stand firm against the wiles of the devil. – Ephesians 6:11) They followed the Prince's command and focused most of their strength and energy against Ear-gate and Eye-gate. Word spread, \"Mansoul is won!\" and so they made their assault upon the town.\n\nDiabolus responded to the Prince's arm as quickly as possible, placing the main power of his high lords and chief captains to resist from within Mansoul. For a time, they fought cruelly against the Prince's army.\n\nBut after three or four remarkable charges by the Prince and His noble captains, Ear-gate was broken open. The bars and bolts, which had once worked to secure the town against the Prince, broke into a thousand pieces. The Prince's trumpets sounded, the captains shouted, and the town shook. Diabolus retreated to his hold.\n\nBut when the Prince's forces broke the gate open, He made His way to the castle and set His throne up in it. Then He set His standard on a nearby mountain where His men had set up the mighty slings. The mountain was close to Ear-gate and was called Mount Hear-Well. The Prince stayed there because it was close to the gate. The Prince commanded the golden slings be put in motion against the town, especially against the castle, because Diabolus had retreated there for shelter.\n\nNow, from Ear-gate, the street stretched straight to the house of Mr. Recorder who spoke out with the voice of God against the sin of Mansoul before Diabolus took the town. Near his house stood the castle, which Diabolus had turned into his troublesome den for a long time. For this reason, the captains used their slings to empty that street and clear the way to the heart of the town.\n\nWith this accomplished, the Prince commanded Captain Boanerges, Captain Conviction, and Captain Judgment to march into Mansoul and up that street to the old gentleman's gate. They marched forward into the town of Mansoul in a most warlike advancement with flying colors. They came to the Recorder's house, which was almost as strong as the castle, and they brought battering rams to plant against the castle gates.\n\nWhen they came to the house of Mr. Conscience, they knocked and demanded entrance. Now, the old gentleman didn't understand their plan at this point, so he kept his gates shut during the entire fight.\n\nBoanerges once again demanded to be let in at his gates, and when no one answered, he struck the gates with the head of a battering ram. It hit with such force that the house trembled and tottered and the old gentleman shook. All this commotion brought Mr. Recorder down to the gates, where he asked with quivering lips, \"Who's there?\"\n\nBoanerges answered, \"We are captains and commanders of the great Shaddai and of the blessed Emmanuel, His Son. We require possession of your house for the use of our noble Prince.\" With that, the battering ram struck the gate a second time, which made the old gentleman tremble even more. He didn't dare ignore the order but quickly opened the gate.\n\nThe King's three brave captains marched through the gates and into the Recorder's house. It turned out to be a suitable place for Emmanuel, not only because it was near to the castle and strong, but also because it was large and it faced the den where Diabolus hid, and he was too afraid to come out of his fortress.\n\nWith such a thunderous start, Mr. Recorder was unsure how all this would end, because he didn't know or understand enough to make a sound judgment. For this reason, the captains carefully explained Emmanuel's great plans. (For he is our peace, who of both has made one, breaking down the middle wall of separation, abolishing in his flesh the enmity, which was the law of commandments in the order of rites, to edify in himself the two in one new man, making peace, and to reconcile both with God by the cross in one body, having slain the enmity thereby. – Ephesians 2:14-16)\n\nWord spread throughout the town about how the Recorder's house had been taken over and his rooms seized. His house became the command post of the war, and as soon as it was spoken of openly, the Recorder shared the news with his friends. The frustration of these affairs was that the Recorder was afraid. He trembled with fear, even though the captains explained the plan to him. So, like a snowball rolling in the snow a little at a time, it didn't take long for his jitters to spread. Soon the whole town understood the Prince held Mansoul by lawful title, and they must expect nothing from the Prince but destruction.\n\nMany came to see for themselves what was going on. But when they saw the captains in the house with their own eyes, and the commotion caused by their battering rams pounding at the castle gates, they too were riveted with fear and stood amazed and perplexed by it all. Unfortunately, Mr. Recorder added to all this because whenever someone talked with him about what was happening, all he could talk about was the death and destruction ready to be served to Mansoul.\n\nThe old gentleman said, \"You're all sensible and discerning. It's clear that we all once despised the now-victorious and glorious Prince Emmanuel, and we betrayed Him. We're all traitors! But now, as you can see, He not only endeavors to gain possession of Mansoul but has also forced His way in at our gates. Diabolus flees before Him! The Prince has made my house a fortification against the castle where Diabolus hides.\"\n\nMr. Recorder wrung his hands. \"I, for my part, have transgressed greatly.\" (We have sinned, we have committed iniquity, we have done wickedly, and we have been rebels, and we have departed from thy commandments and from thy judgments. – Daniel 9:5) He let out a deep sigh. \"For the one who is innocent, it is fine for him. But I confess I have sinned greatly by keeping silent when I should have spoken, and by perverting justice when I should have put it into effect.\n\n\"True, I suffered somewhat at the hand of Diabolus for taking part in the laws of King Shaddai.\" He glanced at the ground and shook his head. \"Unfortunately, what good will that do now? Can that make up for my disloyalties and the rebellions I've committed and the way I've permitted the town of Mansoul to follow the ways of Diabolus without opposition?\"\n\nThe loud sound of the battering rams almost drowned out his voice. He placed his hands over his ears and said, \"With such a dreadful and angry beginning as this, I shudder to think how all this will end.\"\n\nNow, while these brave captains were busy in the house of the old Recorder, Captain Execution was just as busy elsewhere in the town. His task was to secure the back streets and walls surrounding the town. He also hunted the Lord Willbewill and didn't permit him a moment's rest. He pursued him hard and even killed three of his officers, slaughtered many who were brave and strong among his soldiers, and wounded numerous others who vigorously pursued business for Diabolus. This caused Willbewill's remaining followers to be driven from him. In fact, even Willbewill himself was ready to thrust his head into a hole to hide.\n\nThe three officers cut down by this mighty warrior included old Mr. Prejudice who had his head cracked during the mutiny. Lord Willbewill had placed him as keeper of Ear-gate, and this is where he fell by the hand of Captain Execution. The second officer to fall by the hand of the captain was one Mr. Backward-to-all-but-naught who was the captain of the two guns that once were mounted on the top of Ear-gate. Besides these two, a vile man by the name of Captain Treacherous was the third. Willbewill placed a great deal of confidence in this man, but Captain Execution cut him down just the same as the rest. All these who were slain were Diabolians, but among the natives of Mansoul, not a single soul was hurt.\n\nOther feats of war were performed by Captain Good-Hope and Captain Charity, as they executed the charge at the Eye-gate. With his own hands, Captain Good-Hope slew Captain Blindfold, the keeper of that gate. This Blindfold was captain of a thousand who fought with claws. Captain Good-Hope not only killed this Blindfold but also pursued and slew countless numbers of his men and wounded even more. The rest of them hid their heads blindly in corners.\n\nMr. Ill-Pause stood at that gate. I mentioned him before – an old man with a beard that reached to his belt. This is the same man who served as orator to Diabolus and bore much responsibility for a great amount of the trouble in the town of Mansoul. But after the charge on Eye-gate, he would no longer trouble Mansoul, for he fell by the hand of Captain Good-Hope.\n\nIt's hard to describe the scene. Diabolians lay dead everywhere at this time, but too many still remained alive in Mansoul.\n\nNow, the old Recorder, the Lord Understanding, and others who knew they must stand and fall with the famous town of Mansoul came together and deliberated as to how to proceed. They agreed to draw up a petition to send to Emmanuel, while He sat in the gate of Mansoul.\n\nConscience and Understanding Draw up a Petition\n\nSo they drew up their petition to Emmanuel, and in it, the old inhabitants of the now-deplorable town of Mansoul confessed their sin, expressed their sorrow for offending His princely Majesty, and prayed He would spare their lives. (For I am ready to halt, and my sorrow is continually before me. Therefore I will declare my iniquity; I will be sorry for my sin. – Psalm 38:17-18) Once finished, they sent it off to the Prince, but to their dismay He returned no answer, and that troubled them even more.\n\nAll the while, the captains in the Recorder's house were employing the battering rams at the gates of the castle to beat them down. After much time, hard work, and effort, the castle's gate Impregnable was beaten open. It splintered and broke into several pieces, making a way into the hold where Diabolus hid himself.\n\nNews of this accomplishment was sent to Emmanuel at Ear-gate to let Him know they'd made a way in at the gates of the castle of Mansoul. After receiving this news, trumpets sounded throughout the Prince's camp, because the war was near an end, and Mansoul itself was about to be set free.\n\nThe Prince arose and gathered some of His fittest men of war for this mission. He marched up the street of Mansoul, dressed in His armor of gold with His standard displayed before Him. As He marched to the old Recorder's house, the townsfolk came out at every door to see Him. While they couldn't help but be taken with the glory of His person, His countenance remained reserved as He went. By the look on His face, the people couldn't determine if it meant love or hatred, and they wondered at the reserved nature of His countenance, for up to this point He spoke more by His actions and deeds than by words or smiles.\n\nBut poor Mansoul interpreted the way Emmanuel carried Himself much the same way Joseph's brothers had interpreted his behavior toward them – in quite a contrary way (which is apt to happen in such cases). (And when Joseph's brethren saw that their father was dead, they said, Joseph will peradventure hate us and will certainly requite us all the evil which we did unto him. – Genesis 50:15) For they thought, If Emmanuel loved us, He would show it by what He says and how He behaves toward us, but He does none of these. As a result, they determined Emmanuel hated them. With this mistaken notion, they thought, If Emmanuel hates us, then Mansoul shall be slain and become nothing but a heap of rubbish.\n\nThey knew they had transgressed His Father's Law and had been against Him with Diabolus, His enemy. They also were aware that Prince Emmanuel knew all this, for they were convinced He was an angel of God who knew all things done on the earth. (But my lord is wise, according to the wisdom of an angel of God, to know that which is done in the earth. – 2 Samuel 14:20) And being aware of all this made them think their condition was miserable and that the good Prince would make them destitute and uninhabited. They thought, There isn't a more suitable time to do this than now, when He has the bridle of Mansoul in His hand.\n\nAnd as I watched this take place, the inhabitants cringed, bowed, bent, and were ready to lick the dust off His feet when they saw Him march through the town. They couldn't help themselves, for they wished a thousand times over that He would become their Prince and Captain – their protection.\n\nThey turned to one another, talking about how He looked and how His glory and valor was far above other great ones in the world. (God, ... has in these last times spoken unto us by his Son, whom he has appointed heir of all things, by whom also he made the ages; who being the brightness of his glory and the express image of his substance and upholding all things by the word of his power. – Hebrews 1:1a, 2-3) But even as the words fell from their lips, the thoughts of these poor hearts vacillated from one extreme to another until Mansoul became like a tossed ball rolling before the whirlwind. (For he that doubts is like the wave of the sea which is driven of the wind and is tossed from one side to another. – James 1:6)\n\nNow, when He arrived at the castle gates, He commanded Diabolus to appear and to surrender himself into His hands. But oh, how unwilling the beast was to appear! He fell and cringed! But he was forced to come out to the Prince. Emmanuel issued the command, and they grasped Diabolus and bound him in chains to hold him for the judgment He had predetermined for him. But Diabolus stood to make an earnest appeal for himself, asking Emmanuel not to send him into the deep but to allow him to depart out of Mansoul in peace.\n\nDiabolus Overthrown\n\nEmmanuel took him bound in chains and led him into the marketplace. There, before Mansoul, He stripped the giant of his armor in which he had boasted so much. This was one act of triumph of Emmanuel over His enemy. While Diabolus was being stripped of his armor, the trumpets of the golden Prince sounded, the captains shouted, and the soldiers sang for joy.\n\nMansoul was called to witness the beginning of Emmanuel's triumph over the one in whom they'd trusted so much – the very one in which they'd boasted in the days when he flattered them.\n\nAfter stripping Diabolus of his garments in sight of Mansoul and before the commanders of the Prince, Emmanuel commanded that he be bound with chains to his chariot; then He rode through the entire town of Mansoul in triumph and out the gate called Eye-gate to the plain where His camp was set up.\n\nEmmanuel left behind some of His forces, including Captain Boanerges and Captain Conviction, to guard the castle gates in case any resistance might be made on the giant's behalf, or in case any who had followed Diabolus should attempt to possess Mansoul again.\n\nUnless you had been there, you can't imagine the celebratory noise that sprang forth in Emmanuel's camp. For a great shout went out when they saw the tyrant bound by the hand of their noble Prince and tied to his chariot!\n\nThey said, \"He has led His captive into captivity and rendered his power useless. Diabolus is subjected to the power of His sword and made the object of all derision.\" (But thus saith the LORD, Even the captives of the mighty shall be taken away, and the prey of the terrible shall be delivered: for I will contend with him that contends with thee, and I will save thy sons. – Isaiah 49:25)\n\nAmong those gathered to see the battle stood those Diabolus had deprived of their command. When they saw the giant in chains, they shouted with a great voice and joined the others in song. They sang with such melodious notes that they caused those who lived in the celestial orbs to open their windows and look to see the cause of that glory.\n\nMany of the townsmen also saw this sight. For them, it felt surreal, like they were between earth and the heavens. They had no idea what the ultimate result would be for them, but all things were done in such an excellent manner, it seemed like a smile was cast towards the town. As a result, their eyes, heads, hearts, minds, and all they had were captivated while they observed Emmanuel's order. (O sing unto the LORD a new song; for he has done marvellous things; his right hand has gotten him the victory, even the arm of his holiness. The LORD has made known his saving health; he has openly showed his righteousness. – Psalm 98:1-2)\n\nSo the brave Prince finished this part of His triumph over His foe Diabolus, and in the midst of all those watching, He informed the giant of his contempt and shame and issued an order that he no longer be a possessor of Mansoul. Then Diabolus went out from Emmanuel and out of the midst of His camp to inherit the parched places in a salt land, seeking rest, but finding none. (When the unclean spirit is gone out of a man, he walks through dry places, seeking rest; and finding none, he says, I will return unto my house from which I came out. – Luke 11:24)\n\nNow, Captain Boanerges and Captain Conviction were men of great dignity. Their faces were like the faces of lions, their words like the roaring of the sea, and they continued to stay in Mr. Conscience's house.\n\nWhen the exalted, mighty Prince finished His triumph over Diabolus to this point, the townsmen had the freedom to pay attention to what these noble captains were doing. But in all they did, the captains conveyed an awful majesty calculated to impress with terror and dread, and you can be sure they received private instructions to carry out. As a result, they held the town under continual heartache, and with the Mansoulians' uneasiness of mind, this all worked to cause the future well-being of Mansoul to hang in doubt, for they didn't know what rest, ease, peace, or hope meant for a considerable time. (Let us therefore make hast to enter into that rest, lest anyone fall after the same example of disobedience. – Hebrews 4:11)\n\nThe Prince Himself didn't dwell in the town of Mansoul. He stayed in His royal pavilion within the camp in the midst of His Father's forces. At a suitable time, He sent orders to Captain Boanerges to call all of the townsmen of Mansoul into the castle yard. Then, right before their faces, He ordered Lord Understanding, Mr. Conscience, and the notable Lord Willbewill to be taken into custody and placed under strong guard, until His intentions concerning them were made known.\n\nWhen the captains acted upon these orders, the town of Mansoul grew more fearful, for to their way of thinking, all of this confirmed their former fears of the ruin of Mansoul. They thought about the three men placed under guard and wondered by what manner of death they would die and how much they would suffer in the process. What most bewildered their minds and hearts was the fear that Emmanuel would command them all into the deep, the place the prince Diabolus was afraid of. They knew they deserved it.\n\nIt troubled and grieved them to think they could die by the sword in the sight of the town and they could be disgraced by the hand of such a good and holy Prince. The town also worried for the men placed under guard, for they were their support and guides. They believed, if those men were put to death, their execution would be only the beginning of the ruin of the town of Mansoul.\n\nChapter 13\n\nPetitions from Prison\n\nTherefore, they met with the men in prison, drew up a petition to the Prince, and sent it to Emmanuel by the hand of Mr. Would-Live. This is the sum of what it said:\n\n\"Great and wonderful Prince, victor over Diabolus and conqueror of the town of Mansoul, we, the miserable inhabitants of that most wretched town, humbly beg compassion in Your sight and ask that You forget our former transgressions. Please don't hold them against us. We ask that You forget the sins of the leading men of our town. Spare us according to the greatness of Your mercy. (Have mercy upon us, O LORD, have mercy upon us, for we are exceedingly weary of being held in contempt. – Psalm 123:3) Don't let us die but rather let us live in Your sight, for we are willing to be Your servants, and if You think suitable, to gather our food under Your table. Amen.\"\n\nSo the petitioner carried this petition to the Prince, and the Prince took it from his hand but sent him away without an answer. This troubled Mansoul with further grief and distress as they considered what else they could do. It left them with two choices: They could either petition or die. They talked it over again and decided to send a second petition, which, when written, was similar in form and approach to the first. But when they finished drawing up this petition they asked, \"By whom should we send it?\"\n\nThey decided they wouldn't send it by the hand of Would-Live who carried the first petition, because they thought perhaps the Prince had taken some offense at the manner in which he had conducted himself. So they asked Captain Conviction to be their messenger, but to their dismay he declined.\n\n\"I wouldn't dare petition Emmanuel for traitors,\" he said, \"for I refuse to be an advocate for rebels to the Prince. Yet, our Prince is good, and you may venture to send it by the hand of one from your town, provided he goes humbly with a rope about his head and pleads nothing but mercy.\" (Then his slaves said unto him, Behold now, we have heard that the kings of the house of Israel are merciful kings; let us, I pray thee, put sackcloth on our loins and ropes upon our heads and go out to the king of Israel; peradventure he will give thee thy life. – 1 Kings 20:31)\n\nBecause the Mansoulians were afraid, they delayed sending the petition for as long as they could. They tried to convince themselves that longer delays were good. Finally, fearing the danger procrastination presented, many lost strength and courage and thought it best to send their petition by Mr. Desires-Awake. He lived in a humble cottage in Mansoul, and he came at his neighbor's request. They explained to him what they had done, what they planned to do about petitioning the Prince, and concluded by telling him they desired him to carry their petition to Emmanuel.\n\nDesires-Awake nodded. \"Why shouldn't I do the best I can to save so famous a town as Mansoul from deserved destruction?\"\n\nUpon hearing of his willingness, they eagerly handed him the petition and instructed him regarding how to deliver it, what to say to the Prince, and wished him safe journey and farewell.\n\nDesires-Awake carried the petition to Emmanuel, and upon his arrival, the Prince came out to the man. When Desires-Awake saw the Prince, he fell flat with his face to the ground and cried out, \"Oh, that Mansoul might live before You!\" He lay at His feet, crying, and stretched out his hand to present the petition. The Prince accepted it from his hand and read it. Then He turned away and wept. After He gathered Himself, He turned toward the man, who lay crying at His feet, and said to him, \"Go to your place, and I will consider your requests.\"\n\nWhile this transpired, the Mansoulians who sent him struggled with guilt mingled with fear that their petition would be rejected. (O God, thou knowest my foolishness, and my guiltiness is not hid from thee. – Psalm 69:5) They kept watching for Desires-Awake's return, and as they waited, unfamiliar workings of the heart took place within them; they wondered what would become of their petition. At last they saw their messenger returning. When he came into their midst, they gathered around and asked him how he fared. \"What did Emmanuel say?\" one asked, while another said, \"What became of the petition?\"\n\nHe raised his hands and said, \"I will not talk about it until I go to the prison to see Lord Mayor, Lord Willbewill, and Mr. Recorder.\" Then he headed straight towards the prison house where these men of Mansoul lay bound. But he didn't go alone! A multitude flocked after him to hear what he would say.\n\nWhen he showed himself at the gate of the prison, Lord Mayor Understanding turned as pale as a piece of white linen. The Recorder, Mr. Conscience, trembled, but they asked, \"Good sir, tell us what the great Prince said to you.\"\n\nDesires-Awake approached and said, \"When I came to my Lord's pavilion, I called and He came out to meet me. I fell prostrate at His feet and delivered the petition to Him. The greatness of His person and the glory of His countenance wouldn't allow me to stand. (And the priests could not stand to minister because of the cloud, for the glory of the LORD had filled the house of the LORD. – 1 Kings 8:11) As He received the petition from my hand, I cried out, 'Oh, that Mansoul might live before You!'\n\n\"He read the petition for a time and turned away from me. Finally, He said, 'Go to your place, and I will consider your requests.'\n\n\"Let me say, the Prince to whom you sent me is beautiful and glorious, and whoever sees Him must both love and fear Him. (And the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us (and we beheld his glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father), full of grace and truth. – John 1:14) For my part, I can do no less, but I don't know what the end of these things will be.\"\n\nWhen they heard this answer, all those in the prison and those who followed the messenger to the prison stood wondering how to interpret what the Prince had said.\n\nWhen most of the crowd cleared from the prison, the prisoners talked among themselves about Emmanuel's words. Lord Mayor Understanding said, \"The answer does not appear to be harsh.\"\n\nWillbewill shook his head slowly and said, \"It foreshadows evil.\"\n\nThe Recorder looked from one to the other and said, \"It is a messenger of death.\"\n\nNow, a remnant of those who lingered behind at the prison couldn't entirely hear what the prisoners said, but they caught a piece of a sentence here and there. They took hold of what they thought the messenger said and some of the prisoners' judgments regarding the message. No one had the right understanding of the message, and it caused quite a stir. You can't begin to imagine the agitated thinking it brought about or the confusion which arose in Mansoul. They didn't know what to think, as they were tossed from one side to another.\n\nThose who overheard what was said rushed about the town, repeating mixed messages regarding what they thought they'd heard. One announced one thing and another quite the opposite. Yet both were sure they spoke the truth. \"I heard it with my own ears,\" they all said and therefore thought they could not be mistaken. One said, \"We must all be killed,\" while another said, \"We must all be saved.\" A third said the Prince wasn't concerned with Mansoul in the least, and a fourth said that the prisoners must be put to death.\n\nEvery one of these stood firm, believing he declared the account of what was spoken in its truest form, and all others were in error. With such conflicting information being disseminated throughout the town, annoyances and disturbances grew more common within Mansoul. It reached the point that if someone heard his neighbor tell his tale as he was walking by, he'd stop and tell a conflicting view. To make it more confusing, both stood firm that what was said was the truth, so no man knew where to stand on the matter or what to think. Some said the Prince intended to put Mansoul to the sword. With poor Mansoul shrouded in confusion, daylight faded, and as it began to grow dark, it left the town bewildered all that night until the morning.\n\nAs far as I could gather from the best information I could get, all this hubbub came when the Recorder, Mr. Conscience, told them that in his judgment the Prince's answer was a messenger of death. It was this statement that fired up the town and instilled fear in Mansoul. In former times, Mansoul considered the Recorder a seer and thought his pronouncements equal to the best orators. It was for this reason Mansoul became a terror to itself. And at this time they began to feel the effects of stubborn rebellion and unlawful resistance against their Prince. (Woe to the sons that leave, saith the LORD, to make counsel, but not of me; to cover themselves with a covering, and not by my spirit, adding sin unto sin! – Isaiah 30:1)\n\nWhat I mean by this is they began to feel guilt and fear, so much that it swallowed them up. Some were more immersed in the guilt than the fear, but among those who were most fearful were the important heads of the town of Mansoul.\n\nIn brief, when a public report said sudden, violent fear was outside the town, the prisoners recovered a little and took heart. They decided to petition the Prince for life again and drew up a third petition. This is what it said:\n\n\"Prince Emmanuel the Great, Lord of all worlds and Master of mercy, we, Your poor, wretched, miserable, dying town of Mansoul confess to Your great and glorious Majesty that we have sinned against Your Father and You. We are not worthy to be called Your Mansoul but rather deserve to be cast into the pit. If You slay us, it is because we have deserved it. If You condemn us to the deep, we can only say, You are righteous. We cannot complain about whatever You do or however You choose to display Your judgment towards us. But oh, let mercy reign and let it be extended to us! Let mercy take hold of us and free us from our transgressions, and we will sing of Your mercy and of Your judgment. Amen.\" (For the LORD is good; his mercy is everlasting; and his truth endures to all generations. I will sing of mercy and judgment; unto thee, O LORD, will I sing. – Psalm 100:5; 101:1)\n\nThis petition was drawn up to be sent to the Prince just like the first, but once again they had to decide who should carry it. This question generated a good deal of discussion. Some said, \"Let Would-Live deliver it, because he carried the first petition.\" However, others didn't think him a good choice.\n\nNow, there was an old man in the town, and his name was Mr. Good-Deed. While he bore this name, it had nothing to do with the nature of who he was. While some were in favor of sending him, the Recorder was against the idea. He said, \"At this time we stand in need of and are pleading for mercy. To send our petition by a man of this name seems to stand in opposition to the petition itself. Do you really think we should make Good-Deed our messenger, when our petition cries for mercy?\"\n\nThe old gentleman paused to let his words sink in. \"If the Prince receives the petition and asks him, 'What is your name?' and he answers, 'Old Good-Deed,' what do you think Emmanuel would say but, 'Truly is old Good-Deed still alive in Mansoul? Then let old Good-Deed save you from your distresses.' And if that is what He says, I am sure we are lost, for not a thousand old Good-Deeds can save Mansoul.\" (Not by works of righteousness which we have done, but according to his mercy he saved us, by the washing of regeneration and renewing of the Holy Spirit. – Titus 3:5)\n\nAfter the Recorder presented his reasons for why old Good-Deed shouldn't carry this petition to Emmanuel, the rest of the prisoners and important heads of Mansoul opposed the idea as well. So old Good-Deed was removed from consideration, and they agreed to send Desires-Awake again. Therefore, they sent for him and asked if he would be willing to carry their petition to the Prince a second time, and he accepted the task. Once he did, they cautioned him to be careful not to offend the Prince in any manner by word or deed. \"Because for all we know, by doing so, you may bring Mansoul to total destruction.\"\n\nNow when Desires-Awake accepted this errand, he requested that his nearby neighbor Mr. Wet-Eyes might go with him. He was a poor man with a broken spirit but one who could speak well to a petition, so they granted that he could go with him. (The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit: a broken and a contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise. – Psalm 51:17) Therefore, as the two men tackled the business before them, Mr. Desires-Awake put a rope upon his head to show his life was at Emmanuel's disposal, and Mr. Wet-Eyes wrung his hands as he went. So in this way they arrived at the Prince's pavilion carrying a petition this third time. As they approached, they couldn't help but think they might be a burden to the Prince coming so often, so when they arrived at the door of His pavilion, the first thing they did was to make an apology for troubling Emmanuel so often.\n\n\"We come here today not to be troublesome or to hear ourselves talk, but necessity brings us before His Majesty, for we can find no rest day or night because of our transgressions against Shaddai and against Emmanuel, His Son.\"\n\nThey also thought perhaps some improper conduct on the part of Mr. Desires-Awake on his last visit might have displeased His Highness in some way that caused him to return empty-handed and without good will from so merciful a Prince. After they made their apology, Mr. Desires-Awake cast himself prostrate on the ground at the feet of the mighty Prince, just as he had on his first visit. He said, \"Oh, that Mansoul might live before You!\" Then he stretched out his hand and delivered his petition.\n\nThe Prince read the petition, and filled with emotion, turned aside for a time. When He collected Himself, He returned to the petitioner who lay upon the ground. \"What is your name?\" He asked. \"And why have you been chosen for this errand above all the multitude in Mansoul?\"\n\nThe man kept his face toward the ground as he pleaded with the Prince. \"Oh, my Lord, please don't be angry. Why do You ask my name? I am nothing but a dead one. I implore You to take no notice of me. You know there is a great disparity between me and You. Why the townsmen chose to send me on this errand to my Lord only they know, but it can't be because they thought I had favor in your sight.\n\n\"As for me, I cannot judge myself favorably, so who can love me then? Yet I wish to live and desire that my townsmen live, because we are all guilty of great transgressions. (For all have sinned and are made destitute of the glory of God. – Romans 3:23) Therefore, they have sent me, and I have come in their names to beg my Lord for mercy. May it please You to lean toward mercy but not to ask what Your servants are.\" (Remember not the sins of my youth, nor my rebellions; according to thy mercy remember me for thy goodness' sake, O LORD. – Psalm 25:7)\n\nThen the Prince asked, \"And who is this companion who has accompanied you in this important matter?\"\n\n\"He is a poor neighbor and one of my closest friends. His name, may it please Your most excellent Majesty, is Wet-Eyes of the town of Mansoul. I know many who bear that name who are of no use, but I hope it will not offend You, Lord, that I have brought my poor neighbor with me.\"\n\nAt this exchange, Wet-Eyes fell with his face to the ground and apologized for coming with his neighbor to his Lord. \"O my Lord,\" he said. \"What I am myself I don't know, nor whether my name is a pretense or true, especially when I begin to think what some have said, such as that this name was given to me because Mr. Repentance was my father.\n\n\"Good men can have bad children, and the sincere oftentimes produce hypocrites. My mother also called me by this name from the cradle, but whether because of the tears of my affections or because of the softness of my heart, I can't say. (Humble yourselves in the sight of the Lord, and he shall lift you up. – James 4:10)\n\n\"Even in my tears I see dirt,\" he sobbed, \"and filthiness in the foundation of my prayers.\" The old gentleman's voice shuddered as he wept and wept. \"But,\" he said, \"I pray You won't remember our transgressions and hold them against us nor take offense at our lack of qualifications. Rather, I pray You will mercifully pass by the sin of Mansoul and no longer hold back from the glorifying of Your grace.\" (Who is a God like unto thee that pardons iniquity, and passes over the rebellion with the remnant of his heritage? He did not retain his anger for ever because he delights in mercy. – Micah 7:18)\n\nThe Prince bid the two men to stand. As they did, their knees shook, and they trembled before Him. He said, \"The town of Mansoul has rebelled against My Father. They rejected Him from being their King and chose instead a liar, a murderer, and a rebel slave for their captain. This false prince Diabolus, though once esteemed by you, rebelled against My Father and Me, even in Our palace and highest court there. He thought to become a prince and king. But after being there for a sufficient time, he was discovered and apprehended. For his wickedness he was bound in chains and thrown into the pit with his companions.\" (And he laid hold on the dragon, the serpent of old, which is the Devil and Satan and bound him a thousand years and cast him into the bottomless pit and shut him up and set a seal upon it. – Revelation 20:2-3a)\n\nSadness filled the Prince's face. \"He offered himself to you, and you received him.\" Righteous anger flashed in His eyes. \"This openly defiant action against My Father has gone on for a long time. Therefore, My Father sent a powerful army to lead you to obedience. But you did not value these men, their captains, or their instructions. You know how you responded to them. You rebelled. You shut your gates to them. (For this people's heart is waxed gross, and their ears are dull of hearing, and their eyes they have closed lest at any time they should see with their eyes and hear with their ears and should understand with their heart and should be converted, and I should heal them. – Matthew 13:15) In fact, you challenged them in battle. You fought for Diabolus against those sent by My Father. So they sent a request to My Father asking for more power, and My men and I have come to subdue you. But as you treated the servants, so you have treated their Lord. (And the husbandmen took his slaves and beat one and killed another and stoned another. Again, he sent other slaves more than the first, and they did unto them likewise. But last of all he sent unto them his son, saying, They will reverence my son. – Matthew 21:35-37)\n\n\"You stood against Me with hostility, shut your gates against Me, and turned a deaf ear to Me. You resisted for as long as you could, but now I have made a conquest of you. As long as you had hope that you might prevail against Me, did you cry for mercy from Me? No. But now that I have taken the town, you cry out. Why didn't you ask for mercy when I flew the white flag of My mercy, the red flag of justice, and the black flag that threatened execution? They were set in place to officially call you to My mercy. Now I have conquered Diabolus, and you come to Me for favor, but why didn't you help Me against the mighty? Yet I will consider your petition and will answer it for My glory.\" (It is of the LORD's mercies that we are not consumed because his mercies never diminish. They are new every morning. – Lamentations 3:22-23a)\n\nChapter 14\n\nPrisoners Set Free\n\nGo, tell Captain Boanerges and Captain Conviction to bring the prisoners to Me tomorrow, and tell Captain Judgment and Captain Execution to stay in the castle and keep things quiet in Mansoul until they hear further from Me.\"\n\nAfter He said these things, He turned and walked into His royal pavilion. So the petitioners turned to go back to their companions in Mansoul with the answer they had received from the Prince. They hadn't gone far when they began to worry that the Prince wasn't ready to show mercy to Mansoul yet. When they finally arrived at the gates of the town, they were met by townsmen awaiting their return. Many surrounded them, asking, \"What news from the Prince? What did Emmanuel say regarding our petition?\"\n\nOnce again, they said, \"We must first go up to the prison to deliver our message.\" The crowd followed at their heels as they went to the prison, and on the way, their worrisome thoughts gained such strong power over them that by the time they arrived to where the prisoners lay bound, they were so concerned about what would become of Mansoul they were hardly able to deliver their message.\n\nAt the gates of the prison, they delivered the first part of Emmanuel's speech to the prisoners. They told how He reflected upon their disloyalty to His Father and Himself. \"He talked about how you chose to side with Diabolus and ended up fighting for him. He said you despised Him and His men, while you obeyed Diabolus and were ruled by him.\"\n\nUpon hearing this, the prisoners grew pale, but the messengers pressed on. \"The Prince said that in spite of all this, He will still consider your petition and give an answer in keeping with His glory.\" As these words were spoken, Wet-Eyes heaved a great sigh, and the spirits of all who were listening fell. Fear controlled them in an incredible way, and death seemed to stare them in the face. They all stood there mute, for not one of them knew what to say.\n\nNow, within the crowd was a notable, clever fellow who lived in impoverished circumstances. His name was old Inquisitive, and he asked the petitioners, \"Have you told us every bit of what Emmanuel said?\"\n\n\"Truthfully, no,\" they admitted.\n\nInquisitive nodded. \"I thought so. Please tell us what else He said unto you.\"\n\nDesires-Awake and Wet-eyes paused and considered how to answer. At last, they decided to share the entire message, which was, \"The Prince told us to request that Captain Boanerges and Captain Conviction bring the prisoners down to Him tomorrow. He also said Captain Judgment and Captain Execution should take charge of the castle and town until they hear further from Him.\"\n\nThe crowd listened while the two finished telling how once the Prince had commanded them what to do, He turned His back to them and went into His royal pavilion. The return of these two men and the last part of the message that the prisoners be brought to the Prince's camp shattered the people's vigor. They cried out with one voice that reached up to the heavens.\n\nAfter this, the Recorder said, \"This was the thing I feared,\" and each of the three prisoners prepared himself to die, for they thought by the time the sun went down the next day, they would be dead. The whole town looked on and felt much the same way, thinking that in due time they would all be forced to face the same fate.\n\nTherefore, the town of Mansoul spent that night in mourning, wearing sackcloth and ashes. (And I turned my face unto the Lord God, seeking him in prayer and supplication, in fasting and sackcloth, and ashes. – Daniel 9:3) When the time came for the prisoners to go before the Prince, they too dressed in mourning attire with ropes upon their heads to signify that they humbly placed themselves at the Prince's disposal. When the three prisoners exited the gates, the whole town of Mansoul, except for the busybodies, stood upon the wall, all dressed in mourning garments, thinking perhaps the Prince might see them and be moved with compassion.\n\nThe Repentance of Mansoul\n\nHowever, the busybodies in the town of Mansoul didn't concern themselves with any of this. They ran in a disorderly manner through the streets, scuttling here and there through the town in groups, crying out as they ran. Some would say one thing, while others blathered on about things quite contrary, and all this drivel nearly led Mansoul to complete distraction.\n\nThe time arrived for the prisoners to go down to the camp and appear before the Prince. Captain Boanerges accompanied them with a guard walking before them, while Captain Conviction walked behind them. The guard marched with colors flying in front of and behind the prisoners who walked bound in chains between them.\n\nThe prisoners strode down toward the camp in mourning and with drooping spirits. As they walked, they humbly struck their breasts, beating at the gates of their inner world and not daring to lift their eyes to heaven. (The fear of the LORD is the instruction of wisdom, and before honour is humility. – Proverbs 15:33) In this manner, they strode out the gate of Mansoul, until they reached the Prince's camp. They soon found themselves standing in the midst of the Prince's army, the sight and glory of which heightened their grief and distress. They could no longer hold back, but cried out for all to hear, \"O wretched men of Mansoul!\" The clinking and clanking of their chains mixed doleful notes with the cries of the prisoners and created an even more mournful cacophony.\n\nWhen the prisoners were delivered to the door of the Prince's pavilion, they fell prostrate upon the ground. One of the men went in and told his Lord the prisoners had arrived; when He heard it, the Prince ascended a throne of state and ordered the prisoners be brought in.\n\nThe three bound prisoners were escorted to stand before the Prince. Once before Him, they trembled and covered their faces with shame, as they drew near to the throne. They threw themselves down before Him. (My flesh trembles for fear of thee, and I am afraid of thy judgments. – Psalm 119:120)\n\nThe Prisoners Before Emmanuel\n\nThe Prince said to Captain Boanerges, \"Tell the prisoners to stand.\"\n\nAnd so they stood quivering before Him, and He said, \"Are you the men who were formerly the servants of Shaddai?\"\n\n\"Y-y-yes, Lord, yes,\" they said.\n\n\"Are you the men who permitted yourselves to be corrupted and defiled by that abominable one, Diabolus?\"\n\nThey nodded and stared at the ground. \"We did more than permit it, Lord. We chose it with our own free will.\"\n\nThe Prince asked, \"Could you have been content in your slavery if you continued under his tyranny for as long as you lived?\"\n\nThe prisoners cast sideward glances at each other and admitted they could have. \"Yes, Lord, for his ways were pleasing to our human nature, and we grew separated from the better condition.\"\n\n\"And when I came up against this town of Mansoul,\" the Prince asked, \"did you eagerly wish that I might not have the victory over you?\"\n\n\"Yes, Lord.\"\n\nThe Prince gave them a moment to consider the gravity of their actions and asked, \"What punishment do you think you deserve at My hand for these and other high and mighty sins of yours?\"\n\n\"We deserve both death and the grave, Lord.\"\n\nHe asked again if they had anything to say for themselves as to why the sentence they confessed they deserved shouldn't be passed upon them.\n\n\"We can say nothing, Lord. You are just, and we have sinned.\"\n\nThen the golden-haired Prince asked, \"What is the purpose of those ropes on your heads?\"\n\nThe prisoners answered, \"These ropes signify that we put ourselves at the Prince's disposal. If it does not please You to extend mercy to us in Your sight, these ropes bind us so we may face the place of execution together.\"\n\n\"Do all the men in the town of Mansoul join you in this confession?\" (For with the heart one believes unto righteousness, and with the mouth confession is made unto saving health. – Romans 10:10)\n\n\"All the native Mansoulians do, Lord, but as for the Diabolians who came into our town when the tyrant gained possession of us, we can say nothing for them.\"\n\nThe Prince commanded a herald be called and ordered him to sound the trumpet and proclaim throughout the camp of Emmanuel that the Prince, the Son of Shaddai, had acquired a perfect conquest and victory over Mansoul in His Father's name and for His Father's glory. Then He instructed the prisoners to follow Him and say \"amen.\"\n\nThey did as He commanded, and music flowed from the heights above, filling the camp with a melodious harmony. The captains who were in the camp shouted, and the soldiers sang songs of triumph to the Prince. The colorful standards waved in the wind, and great joy filled the camp. The only thing lacking at this point was that the hearts of the men of Mansoul still needed to be reached.\n\nThe Prince called for the prisoners to come into His presence once more. Again, they stood before Him trembling, and He said, \"The sins, trespasses, and iniquities that you and the whole town of Mansoul have committed against my Father and Me over time, I have power and authority from my Father to forgive. And I do forgive you accordingly.\" (And you, being dead in sins and the uncircumcision of your flesh, he has quickened together with him, having forgiven you all trespasses. – Colossians 2:13)\n\nAnd having said this, He gave them a written parchment sealed with seven seals. It contained a broad, general pardon which He commanded the Lord Mayor, Lord Willbewill, and Mr. Recorder to proclaim, so that by sun-up the following day, the whole town of Mansoul would have heard it.\n\nFurthermore, the Prince stripped the prisoners of their mourning garments and dressed them in beauty instead of ashes; the oil of joy replaced mourning, and the garment of praise displaced the spirit of heaviness. (Thou hast turned my mourning into dancing: thou hast put off my sackcloth and girded me with gladness; to the end that I may sing glory unto thee and not be silent. O LORD my God, I will give thanks unto thee for ever. – Psalm 30:11-12)\n\nHe gave each of the three men jewels of gold and precious stones and took away their ropes. In their place, He put chains of gold about their necks and earrings in their ears. When the prisoners heard the gracious words of Prince Emmanuel and saw all that was done to them, they grew quite faint. For the grace, the benefit, and the sudden and glorious pardon felt so enormous they couldn't take it all in without staggering.\n\nIn fact, Lord Willbewill immediately swooned, but the Prince stepped over to him and placed His everlasting arms under him. He embraced him, kissed him, and said, \"Take courage and be bold, for all shall be performed according to My Word.\" He also kissed and embraced Willbewill's other two companions with a smile and said, \"Accept these as further tokens of My love, favor, and compassion toward you. And Mr. Recorder, I charge you to tell the town of Mansoul what you have heard and seen here today.\" (That which we have seen and heard we declare unto you, that ye also may have communion with us; and truly our communion is with the Father and with his Son Jesus Christ. – 1 John 1:3)\n\nThen their shackles broke to pieces and were thrown into the air, and their steps were enlarged under them. (Thou shall enlarge my steps under me, and my knees shall not tremble. – Psalm 18:36)\n\nThey fell before the Prince, kissed His feet, and wet them with their tears. As they did, they cried out in a strong voice, \"Blessed be the glory of the Lord!\"\n\n\"Rise, go to the town,\" the Prince said. \"Tell Mansoul what I have done.\" He commanded a flute and small drum play before them all the way into the town. Then what they had never looked for was accomplished for them. They now possessed something greater than they ever dreamed of. (Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us with all spiritual blessings in heavenly things in Christ; according as he has chosen us in him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and without blemish before him in charity; having marked out beforehand the way for us to be adopted as sons by Jesus Christ in himself, according to the good pleasure of his will, to the praise of the glory of his grace, in which he has made us accepted in the beloved; in whom we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins according to the riches of his grace, which has over abounded in us in all wisdom and prudence. – Ephesians 1:3-8)\n\nThe Prince called for the noble Captain Credence and commanded that he and some of his officers should march before these noble men of Mansoul into the town with flying colors marking this victory. He charged Captain Credence to have the Recorder, Mr. Conscience, read the general pardon in the town of Mansoul at the very time he marched in at the Eye-gate with his ten thousands and flying colors.\n\nThe captain followed orders to continue through the town in this way, until he came to the high street of the town and reached the castle gates. Once there he was to take possession until his Lord arrived. He commanded Captain Judgment and Captain Execution to withdraw from Mansoul and return to the Prince in the camp, and leave the stronghold to him. In this way, the town of Mansoul was delivered from the terror of the first four captains and their men.\n\nRemember how I told you the prisoners enjoyed hospitality at the hand of the noble Prince Emmanuel and how they behaved before Him? And remember how He sent them home accompanied by flute and drum? After hearing all this, you might think those waiting in the town for news about the death of the prisoners would have been consumed by sad thoughts that pricked like thorns, but their thoughts actually became so distracted, they couldn't focus on any one thing. However, all this time great uncertainties buffeted them like a strong wind until their hearts became like a balance disturbed by a shaking hand.\n\nAfter many long looks over the wall of Mansoul, they thought they saw people returning to the town. They wondered who they could be, but as those approaching drew closer, the people of the town recognized the prisoners, but they looked changed. The sight surprised them and filled them with wonder – not just because the prisoners were being sent home, but even more because of the body of troops accompanying the prisoners with honor. They had gone down to the camp dressed in black but returned dressed in white. (He that overcomes shall likewise be clothed in white raiment, and I will not blot out his name out of the book of life, but I will confess his name before my Father and before his angels. – Revelation 3:5) They had worn ropes and came back wearing gold chains. When they left for the camp, their feet were shackled, but now they came back with their feet released and their steps unrestricted. They had gone to the camp, expecting death, but came back with the assurance of life. (Let us draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith, having our hearts purified from an evil conscience and our bodies washed with pure water. – Hebrews 10:22) And they had gone to the camp with heavy hearts, but came back with the flute and drum playing before them.\n\nAs soon as they arrived at the Eye-gate, the depressed, unsteady town of Mansoul ventured to give a shout. In fact, they shouted loud enough it made the captains in the Prince's army jump at the sound. And who could blame the town for such a reaction? Their dead friends had come to life again, for to them it was like life from the dead to see the ancients of the town of Mansoul shine in such splendor. (I am crucified with Christ; nevertheless I live; yet not I, but Christ lives in me, and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. – Galatians 2:20) They had gone to the camp, expecting nothing but the axe and chopping block, but returned with joy and gladness, comfort and consolation, and accompanied by music able to make a sick man well.\n\nChapter 15\n\nEmmanuel Enters Mansoul\n\nWhen they came to the gate, the people greeted them with \"Welcome, welcome! Blessed be He who spared you!\" They gathered around wanting to know more. \"We see it is well with you, but what is to become of the town of Mansoul?\" And with hope mingled with uncertainty, they asked, \"Will it go well with the town of Mansoul?\"\n\nThe Recorder and Lord Mayor answered. \"Oh! We have news! Happy news! Good news of great joy to deliver to poor Mansoul!\" (Sing with joy unto the LORD, all the earth; lift up thy voice and rejoice and sing praises. – Psalm 98:4)\n\nThe townsfolk gave another resounding shout and inquired more about how things went in the camp. \"What message do you have from Emmanuel to the town?\" they asked.\n\nSo they told them all that had occurred while at the camp and everything the Prince said. At hearing the good news, Mansoul marveled at the wisdom and grace of Prince Emmanuel. (And all bore him witness and marvelled at the words of grace which proceeded out of his mouth. – Luke 4:22) Then the Recorder, Mr. Conscience, delivered the message he was to carry from the Prince for the whole town of Mansoul. \"Pardon, pardon, pardon for Mansoul! All Mansoul shall know pardon tomorrow!\" He went on to command them to summon Mansoul to meet the following day in the marketplace to hear the reading of their general pardon.\n\nYou can imagine how this changed things. This hint of promising things encouraged the Mansoulians and made a difference in their attitude. They were so filled with joy that no one could even sleep that night. Music streamed from every house, accompanied by sounds of singing, feasting, and laughter. Mansoul's happiness was all everyone talked about, and this was repeated in all their songs. \"Oh! More of this at the rising of the sun! More of this tomorrow!\" (Cause me to hear thy mercy in the morning, for in thee do I trust; cause me to know the way in which I should walk, for I lift up my soul unto thee. – Psalm 143:8)\n\nConversations included statements like \"Yesterday, who thought this day would have turned out like this for us?\" and \"Who, after seeing our prisoners go down in irons to the camp, could have thought they would return wearing chains of gold?\" and \"They who reckoned themselves to be judged by their Judge were acquitted by His mouth, not because they were innocent but because of the Prince's mercy. He even sent them home, accompanied by flute and drum. Is this normally the custom of princes? No. They don't show such kind favor to traitors. Such actions are only attributed to Shaddai and Emmanuel, His Son!\"\n\nTime passed quickly and the sun dawned on the new day. The Lord Mayor Understanding, Willbewill, and Mr. Conscience the Recorder went to the marketplace at the time the Prince had appointed. They wore the robes the Prince had clothed them in the day before, and the street lit up with their glory. When they arrived at the marketplace, the townsfolk were waiting for them. The Mayor, Recorder, and Lord Willbewill moved to Mouth-gate at the lower end of the marketplace, because in times past, this was the place where public matters were read. So they came to that gate, dressed in their robes, with their drums beating before them. The people eagerly anticipated what they had to say, for they wanted to know the full sequence of things.\n\nThe Recorder stood up and motioned with his hand for silence. After the townsfolk quieted, Mr. Conscience read the pardon with a loud voice for all to hear. \"The Lord, the Lord God – Who is merciful and gracious, pardoning iniquity, transgressions, and sins – declares all manner of sin and blasphemy shall be forgiven.\" (Thou has forgiven the iniquity of thy people; thou hast covered all their sin. – Psalm 85:2)\n\nThe people couldn't hold back their gladness and jumped for joy. For you must know, every man's name in Mansoul was associated with the seals of the pardon, and it created a magnificent spectacle.\n\nWhen the Recorder finished reading the pardon, the townsmen ran upon the walls of the town and leaped and skipped for joy, before bowing seven times with their faces toward Emmanuel's pavilion. Then with one voice they shouted out, \"Let Emmanuel live forever!\" Following this, an order was given to the young men in Mansoul to ring the bells for joy, so the bells rang and the people sang. Music could be heard in every house in Mansoul.\n\nWhen the Prince had sent the three prisoners of Mansoul home with joy, accompanied by flute and drum, He had commanded His captains, field officers, and soldiers to be ready to promote His will after the Recorder read the pardon. (And I will cleanse them from all their iniquity, with which they have sinned against me; and I will pardon all their sins, with which they have sinned against me and with which they rebelled against me. – Jeremiah 33:8) So that morning, just as the Recorder finished reading the pardon, Emmanuel commanded all the trumpets in the camp to sound and the colors of victory to be flown. \"Display half of the flags upon Mount Gracious and the other half upon Mount Justice,\" He commanded.\n\nHe ordered all the captains to dress in their full armor and the soldiers to shout for joy. Even Captain Credence, who was in the castle, sounded the trumpet to Mansoul and the Prince's camp from the top of the fortified castle.\n\nIn this manner, Emmanuel recovered the town of Mansoul from the hand and power of the tyrant Diabolus. When He completed these outward ceremonies commemorating His joy, He commanded His captains and soldiers to exhibit to Mansoul feats of war. They directed their efforts to this task with great agility, nimbleness, dexterity, and bravery as these military men revealed their skill in feats of war before the gazing town of Mansoul.\n\nJoy in the Camp of Emmanuel\n\nThey marched, countermarched, performed maneuvers to the right and left, divided, subdivided, and closed ranks. Then they changed direction as they wheeled about and strengthened their front and rear positions with their right and left wings. They showcased many more tactics, and the hearts of Mansoul were overcome as they witnessed it. Plus, the skill with which they handled their arms and managed their weapons of war captivated Mansoul and me.\n\nWhen they finished performing these feats of war, the whole town of Mansoul came out as one man to the Prince in the camp. They thanked and praised Him for His abundant favor and begged Him to come into Mansoul with His men and take up residence forever. They did this in a most humble manner, bowing to the ground before Him seven times.\n\nThe Prince answered, \"All peace be to you.\" (Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you; not as the world gives, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid. – John 14:27)\n\nSo the town came near, touched the top of His golden sceptre, and said, \"Oh, that Prince Emmanuel and His captains and men of war would live within Mansoul forever, and His battering rams and slings might remain within her for the use and service of the Prince to strengthen Mansoul. For we have room for You, Your men, Your weapons of war, and a place to store arms for Your conquest of the enemy.\n\n\"Do this, Emmanuel, and You shall be King and Captain in Mansoul forever. Govern us according to the desires of Your soul. Make governors and princes of Your captains and men of war under You. We will become Your servants and Your laws shall guide us.\"\n\nThen they asked the Prince to consider this: \"Now that You have bestowed all this grace upon us, Your miserable town of Mansoul, if You and Your captains should happen to withdraw, the town will die. For if You depart from us now, blessed Emmanuel, after You have done so much good for us and showed so much mercy to us, what will happen to us? It will be as if this joy we have now never happened, and our enemies will come upon us a second time with more rage than the first time.\n\n\"Therefore, we urgently ask You to accept this request. Come and live within our midst, and let us be Your people. You are the desire of our eyes and the strength and life of our poor town. (Whom have I in heaven but thee? And apart from thee there is nothing upon the earth that I desire. My flesh and my heart fail; the strength of my heart is that God is my portion for ever. – Psalm 73:25-26) Lord, we cannot be certain many Diabolians aren't still lurking within the town of Mansoul to this day and that they won't betray us. When You leave us, we'll fall into the hand of Diabolus again, and who knows what plans, plots, or devices they have shared since these things came about. We would hate to fall into his horrible hands again. Please, please accept our palace for Your place of residence and the houses of the best men in our town to receive Your soldiers and their equipment.\"\n\nThe Prince said, \"If I come to your town, will you allow Me to continue further endeavors to complete that which is in My heart against My enemies and yours? Will you help Me in such undertakings?\"\n\nThey answered, \"We don't know what we shall do! We never thought we would have been such traitors to Shaddai as we proved to be. Knowing this, what shall we say to our Lord? Let Him put no trust in His saints, but let the Prince dwell in our castle and make our town a fortress manned with His troops. Let Him set His noble captains and His warlike soldiers over us. Let Him conquer us with His love and overcome us with His grace. Surely, He shall be with us and help us just as He did that morning our pardon was read to us. We shall comply with this our Lord and with His ways and agree with His word against the mighty.\n\n\"Let us say just one more thing, and Your servants will be done and will trouble our Lord no more. We cannot know the depth of Your wisdom. Who could have thought the pleasing satisfaction we now enjoy could have come out of those bitter trials we experienced! But Lord, let light go before us and let love follow us. Take us by the hand and lead us by Your instruction. (For thou art my rock and my fortress; therefore for thy name's sake thou shalt lead me and guide me. Thou shalt pull me out of the net that they have laid in secret for me; for thou art my strength. Into thy hand shall I commit my spirit. – Psalm 31:3-5a) Continue forever with us so all things shall be brought to their greatest perfection for Your servants. Come to our Mansoul and do what pleases You. Or, Lord, come to our Mansoul, do what You will to keep us from sinning and make us serviceable to Your Majesty.\"\n\nThe Prince responded to the town of Mansoul. \"Go, return to your houses in peace. I will comply with your desires. Tomorrow I will move My royal pavilion and draw up My forces before Eye-gate. From there I will march into the town of Mansoul and take possession of your castle. I will set My soldiers over you and do things in Mansoul that cannot be paralleled in any nation, country, or kingdom under heaven.\" (And I will set my dwelling among you, and my soul shall not abhor you. And I will walk among you and will be your God, and ye shall be my people. – Leviticus 26:11-12)\n\nThe men of Mansoul received the news with a great joyful shout and returned to their houses in peace. They told family and friends the good news that Emmanuel promised to Mansoul. \"And tomorrow He will march into our town and take up residence in Mansoul – He and His men.\"\n\nThen the inhabitants of the town of Mansoul hurried out and gathered boughs and flowers from the meadows and forests and spread them in the streets in preparation for receiving their Prince, the Son of Shaddai. They crafted garlands and other fine tokens to signify how joyful they were to receive Emmanuel into Mansoul.\n\nThey covered the street with flowers and boughs from Eye-gate to the castle gate where the Prince would enter. They prepared for His coming by practicing on their instruments, so they might play before Him on His way to the palace.\n\nThe appointed time finally arrived for the Prince to make His approach to Mansoul. The gates were opened to Him, and the ancients and elders of Mansoul greeted Him with a thousand welcomes. (Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf shall be unstopped. – Isaiah 35:5)\n\nEmmanuel arose and entered Mansoul with all His servants. The elders of Mansoul danced before Him until He came to the castle gates. He traveled up to the palace, riding in His royal chariot and dressed in His golden armor. Trumpets sounded all around Him, and the colors of victory flew in the breeze. His ten thousands went up at His feet, and the inhabitants of Mansoul lined the walls in order to view the approach of the blessed Prince and His royal army. They watched from large and small windows and crowded onto balconies and housetops, filling them with people of all sorts. Everyone gathered to see how their town was to be filled with good.\n\nThe Triumph of Emmanuel\n\nWhen the Prince came into the town, He rode as far as the Recorder's house. From there He sent a messenger to Captain Credence to learn whether the castle of Mansoul was ready to accommodate His royal presence. The messenger returned and reported the palace ready to receive the Prince, so Captain Credence was ordered to come meet the Prince.\n\nIn obedience, Captain Credence responded and conducted the Prince into the castle, and to the joy of Mansoul, the Prince stayed in the castle that night with His mighty captains and men of war.\n\nIn the meantime, the townsfolk concerned themselves with how the captains and soldiers of the Prince's army would be stationed among them. This nervousness wasn't related to denying them admission but rather how to accommodate them. Every man in Mansoul now held Emmanuel and His men in high esteem, and nothing grieved them more than the fact they weren't numerous enough to receive the whole army of the Prince. (Serve the LORD with gladness; come before his presence with joy. Know ye that the LORD he is God; it is he that has made us and not we ourselves; we are his people and the sheep of his pasture. – Psalm 100:2-3) They counted it an honor to wait upon them and in those days ran to do their bidding like servants.\n\nFinally, they came to this conclusion:\n\n  1. Captain Innocency would live at Mr. Reason's house.\n  2. Captain Patience would lodge at Mr. Mind's. This Mr. Mind was formerly Lord Willbewill's clerk at the time of the rebellion.\n  3. Captain Charity should be quartered at Mr. Affection's house.\n  4. Captain Good-Hope would stay at Lord Mayor's. Now, as for the house of the Recorder, because his house was next to the castle and he was ordered by the Prince to sound the alarm to Mansoul, if needed, he desired Captain Boanerges and Captain Conviction and all their men board with him.\n  5. As for Captain Judgment and Captain Execution, Lord Willbewill took them and their men in, because he was to rule under the Prince for the good of the town of Mansoul, as he had under the tyrant Diabolus, to the detriment of the town.\n  6. Emmanuel's forces were accommodated throughout the rest of the town, but Captain Credence and his men still lived in the castle. So the Prince, His captains, and His soldiers were all boarded within the town of Mansoul.\n\nChapter 16\n\nMansoul Made New\n\nThe ancients and elders of the town of Mansoul thought they couldn't have enough of Prince Emmanuel; His person, His actions, and His words were so pleasing and desirable to them. Even though the castle of Mansoul was His place of residence, they asked Him to reside there forever. As He visited the streets, houses, and people of Mansoul, they said, \"We look to You with fear united with respect, Sovereign. Your presence, looks, smiles, and Your words are the life, strength, and muscle of the town of Mansoul.\" (The words of the LORD are pure words: as silver tried in a furnace of earth, purified seven times. – Psalm 12:6)\n\nThey craved continual access to Him, so they might experience right of entry without difficulty or interruption. Therefore, He commanded the gates stand open, so they could see all He did, the fortifications of the place, and the royal mansion house of the Prince.\n\nWhen He spoke, everyone stopped talking and listened to His words, and when He walked, they delighted in imitating everything He did.\n\nOn one occasion, Emmanuel scheduled a feast for the town of Mansoul. The townsfolk came to the castle to partake of His banquet. He entertained them sumptuously with all kinds of foreign food – food not grown in the fields of Mansoul. In fact, it wasn't from anywhere within the whole kingdom of Universe. It was food from His Father's court, and they were commanded to freely eat dish after dish set before them.\n\nHowever, when each fresh dish was set before them, they would whisper to one another, \"What is it?\" for they didn't know what to call it. (And when the sons of Israel saw it, they said one to another, It is manna (What is it?): for they did not know what it was. Then Moses said unto them, This is the bread which the LORD has given you to eat. – Exodus 16:15) Music played all the while as they ate angels' food with honey given out of the rock. (And God would have fed them also the finest of the wheat, and with honey out of the rock I would have satisfied thee. – Psalm 81:16) They drank water turned to wine and were merry with Him. So Mansoul ate their full of this peculiar food.\n\nI must not forget to tell you that the musicians at this table were not from the town of Mansoul or even of the country either. Instead, they were masters of the songs sung at the court of Shaddai.\n\nAfter the feast was over, Emmanuel entertained the town of Mansoul with riddles dealing with secrets drawn up by His Father's skill and wisdom. These riddles were related to King Shaddai Himself, Emmanuel, His Son, and His wars and actions with Mansoul.\n\nEmmanuel explained some of those riddles to them, and oh, they were enlightened! With His help, they saw what they never saw before. They never imagined such finds could be couched in so few ordinary words. And as I told you, these riddles concerned Shaddai, Emmanuel, and His dealings with Mansoul. As the meanings of the riddles were unlocked, the people agreed they were true. As their eyes were opened to these truths, they understood the things they learned were an illustration of Emmanuel Himself. For when they read how the riddles were written and how things connected and looked in the face of the Prince, the two very much resembled one another.\n\nMansoul couldn't help but say, \"This is the Lamb! This is the sacrifice! This is the rock! This is the red heifer! This is the door! And this is the way!\" and a great many other similar statements. (The next day John saw Jesus coming unto him and said, Behold the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world – John 1:29; Jesus said unto him, I AM the way, the truth, and the life; no one comes unto the Father, but by me. – John 14:6)\n\nEmmanuel dismissed the town of Mansoul, and you can imagine how the people were captivated with what they learned from their discussion! They were carried away with joy and overwhelmed with wonder. They saw, understood, and considered all Emmanuel had talked about with them, and the mysteries He opened to their understanding. And when they were back home in their houses and in their most secluded places, they couldn't help but sing about Him and all He'd done. The townsmen were now so taken with their Prince that they even sang of Him in their sleep.\n\nNow within His heart, Prince Emmanuel desired to remodel the town of Mansoul, make it most pleasing to Himself, and protect the now-flourishing town, so it might best move forward. He had such love for Mansoul that He made it ready against insurrections at home and invasions from outside the walls.\n\nHe commanded the great slings brought from His Father's court to be mounted – some on the castle's battlements and some on the new towers Emmanuel had built since His arrival. Emmanuel also invented a machine designed to throw stones from the castle of Mansoul out toward Mouth-gate. This effective machine didn't miss its mark. Even though it was so impressive, it went without a name but was committed to the care and management of the brave Captain Credence – to be used in the event of war.\n\nEmmanuel then called Lord Willbewill and commanded him to take care of the gates, the wall, and the towers in Mansoul. The Prince gave him control of the militia and a special order to \"resist all rebellion, disorder, or disturbances that might brew within Mansoul against the peace of our Lord the King and the peace and tranquility of the town of Mansoul.\" He was told that if he found any Diabolian lurking in any corner of Mansoul, he should apprehend them. \"You are to restrain them or consign them to safe custody, so they can be dealt with according to Law.\"\n\nThen he called the Lord Understanding to come to Him. If you remember, Lord Understanding was the old Lord Mayor before he was removed from office when Diabolus took the town. The Prince returned him to his former office, and it became a lifetime position. He told him to build himself a palace near Eye-gate. \"It should be built in a manner similar to a tower for defense.\" He also told him he should read in the Revelation of mysteries all the days of his life, that he might know how to perform his office correctly. (Let us reckon men as ministers of Christ and stewards of the mysteries of God. – 1 Corinthians 4:1)\n\nEmmanuel then made Mr. Knowledge the Recorder, not due to contempt of old Mr. Conscience who had been Recorder, but because in His princely mind He planned to award another position to Mr. Conscience. He told the old gentleman, \"You shall learn more about your new position in the future.\"\n\nThen He issued this command: \"The image of Diabolus should be taken down. Destroy it, beat it into powder, and cast the remains into the wind outside the town wall.\" (And he [Moses] took the calf which they had made and burnt it in the fire and ground it to powder and scattered it upon the waters and made the sons of Israel drink it. – Exodus 32:20) He went on to say, \"The image of Shaddai, My Father, should be set up again with My own likeness upon the castle gates.\" As part of this commission, He said the images should be more beautifully drawn than ever, because with all things considered, both His Father and He had come to Mansoul with more grace and mercy than ever before. His name was to be engraved on the front of the town, using the best gold, for the honor of the town of Mansoul.\n\nThe Image of Diabolus Is Thrown Down\n\nChapter 17\n\nTrials of the Diabolians\n\nAfter this was done, Emmanuel commanded that three Diabolians, namely, the two former Lord Mayors, Incredulity and Lustings, and Mr. Forget-Good, the Recorder, be apprehended. In addition to these, the now-valiant, right, noble, and brave Lord Willbewill arrested more of Diabolus's representatives and aldermen. These included Alderman Atheism, Alderman Hard-Heart, and Alderman False-Peace, and representatives No-Truth, Pitiless, Haughty, and others like them. They were taken into custody by the jailer, Mr. True-Man. This True-Man was one of those whom Emmanuel brought from His Father's court when He first made war upon Diabolus in the town of Mansoul.\n\nAfter this, the Prince ordered the three strongholds Diabolus commanded be built by the Diabolians in Mansoul to be pulled down and demolished, and their captains and governors destroyed, which you read about earlier. However, this took a long time to accomplish, because the places were large, and the stones, timber, iron, and all the remaining rubbish had to be carried outside the town.\n\nWhen this was done, the Prince ordered the Lord Mayor and the aldermen of Mansoul to call a court of justice for the trial and execution of the Diabolians within the town who were now under the charge of Mr. True-Man, the jailer.\n\nWhen the time for court was set, the Prince sent a command to the jailer to bring the prisoners down to the bar of the court. This was done with the prisoners shackled and chained together, which was the custom of the town of Mansoul. When they were presented before the Lord Mayor, the Recorder, and the rest of the honorable judges seated on the bench, the names of the jurors were written down and the witnesses sworn in. The names of those on the jury included: Mr. Belief, Mr. True-Heart, Mr. Upright, Mr. Hate-Bad, Mr. Love-God, Mr. See-Truth, Mr. Heavenly-Mind, Mr. Moderate, Mr. Thankful, Mr. Good-Work, Mr. Zeal-for-God, and Mr. Humble.\n\nThe names of the witnesses were Mr. Know-All, Mr. Tell-True, Mr. Hate-Lies, with Lord Willbewill and his servant, if needed.\n\nSo the prisoners were led to the bar where the town clerk Do-Right said, \"Have Atheism stand up to the bar, jailer.\"\n\nOnce he was positioned at the bar, the clerk said, \"Atheism, raise your hand. You are here accused under the name of Atheism to be an intruder within the town of Mansoul. For you have destructively and stupidly taught and maintained that there is no God and therefore you have no need to believe in the reality and perfections of God. (The fool has said in his heart, There is no God. – Psalm 14:1a) You have done this against the existence, honor, and glory of the King and against the peace and safety of the town of Mansoul. What do you have to say? Are you guilty of this accusation or not?\"\n\nAtheism held his chin high and said, \"Not guilty.\"\n\nThe town crier called out, \"Call Mr. Know-All, Mr. Tell-True, and Mr. Hate-Lies into the courtroom.\" So the three were called to appear.\n\nThen the clerk said, \"You, the witnesses for the King, look at the prisoner standing at the bar. Do you know him?\"\n\nMr. Know-All nodded and said, \"Yes, my lord, we know him. His name is Atheism. He has been a noxious fellow for many years in the miserable town of Mansoul.\"\n\n\"You are sure you know him?\" the clerk asked.\n\n\"Know him! Yes, my lord. Absolutely! I have been in his company too often to not know who he is. He is a Diabolian, the son of a Diabolian. I knew his grandfather and his father.\"\n\n\"Well said,\" the clerk said. \"He stands here accused under the name of Atheism and is charged with maintaining and teaching there is no God and no need to be engaged in any religion. As the King's witnesses, what do you say? Is he guilty of this or not?\"\n\nKnow-All looked at the clerk and said, \"My lord, there was a time when the two of us hung out together in Villain's Lane. At that time, he vigorously talked of different opinions, and I heard him say, for his part, he believed there was no God. But he also said he could profess to be religious too, if the company and the circumstances he was in should put him up to it.\"\n\nThe clerk's eyes narrowed. \"You are sure you heard him say this?\"\n\nMr. Know-All bobbed his head once with determination. \"Upon my oath, I heard him say this.\"\n\nThen the clerk turned to Mr. Tell-True and asked, \"What do you say to the King's judges concerning the prisoner at the bar?\"\n\nMr. Tell-True looked at the prisoner and then back at the clerk. \"My lord, I was a companion of his for a great while, for which I have now repented. During that time, I often heard him say with perverse obstinacy that he believed there was neither God, angel, nor spirit.\"\n\n\"Where did you hear him say this?\"\n\n\"In Darkmouth Lane and in Blasphemer's Row and many other places.\"\n\n\"Do you know much about him?\"\n\nMr. Tell-True avoided looking at the prisoner. \"I know him to be a Diabolian, the son of a Diabolian, and a horrible man who denies the existence of a God. His father's name was Never-be-good, and he had more children in addition to this Atheism.\" He let out a deep breath. \"I have no more to say.\"\n\nThe clerk turned his attention to Mr. Hate-Lies. (The righteous man hates lying: but the wicked man makes himself loathsome, and abominable. – Proverbs 13:5) \"Look upon the prisoner at the bar. Do you know him?\"\n\nMr. Hate-Lies glanced at the prisoner with hooded eyes and turned his attention back to the clerk. \"My lord, this is Atheism – one of the vilest miserable wretches I ever came into contact with in all my life. I have heard him say there is no God. I have also heard him say there is no world to come, no sin, nor punishment hereafter, and I even heard him say it was as good to go to a whorehouse as to go hear a sermon.\"\n\n\"Where did you hear him say these things?\" the clerk asked.\n\nHate-Lies glanced toward the prisoner and said, \"In Drunkard's Row at the end of Rascal-Lane at a house in which Mr. Impiety lived.\"\n\nThe clerk ordered Atheism to sit beside the jailer and asked Mr. Lustings to step up to the bar. When he did, the clerk said, \"Mr. Lustings, you are indicted by the name Lustings as an intruder in the town of Mansoul, for you have diabolically and traitorously taught by practice and filthy words that it is lawful and profitable for a man to give in to his carnal desires. (Then when lust has conceived, it brings forth sin; and sin, when it is finished, brings forth death. – James 1:15) You never have and never will deny yourself of any sinful pleasure or satisfaction of mind as long as your name is Lustings. How do you plead? Are you guilty of this indictment or not?\"\n\nMr. Lustings stood straight and proud. He said, \"My lord, I am a man of high birth and have enjoyed a multitude of pleasures and pastimes. I am not accustomed to being reprimanded for my actions but have been left to follow my own will as if it were law. It seems strange to me that today I am being called into question for my behavior, because I am not alone in this. Almost all men, either secretly or openly, love and approve of living in this way.\"\n\nThe clerk was not thwarted by Mr. Lustings' airs. He said, \"Sir, we are not concerned with your greatness, although the higher your standing, the better your behavior should have been. (But he that knew not and did commit things worthy of stripes shall be beaten with few stripes. For unto whomsoever much is given, of him shall much be required; and to whom much was committed, more will be asked of him. – Luke 12:48) What we are concerned with is this indictment against you. Are you guilty of it or not? What do you say?\"\n\n\"Not guilty.\"\n\nThe clerk ordered the crier to call the witnesses to come forth and give their evidence.\n\nThe crier called out, \"Witnesses for the King come in and give your evidence for our Lord the King against the prisoner at the bar!\"\n\nOnce again, the clerk addressed Know-All as a witness for the King. He said, \"Look at the prisoner at the bar. Do you know him?\"\n\nMr. Know-All nodded. \"Yes, my lord, I know him.\"\n\n\"What is his name?\"\n\n\"His name is Lustings. He was the son of Beastly, and his mother left him naked on Flesh Street. She's the daughter of Evil-Concupiscence [evil desire or lust]. I knew all these generations of his family.\"\n\nThe clerk turned toward Mr. Lustings but spoke to Mr. Know-All. \"You have heard his indictment; what do you say? Is he guilty of the things charged against him or not?\"\n\n\"My lord, as he said, he's indeed been a distinguished man, but he is a thousandfold greater in wickedness than in pedigree.\"\n\nThe clerk folded his hands in front of himself and asked, \"What do you know of his particular actions, especially in reference to his indictment?\"\n\n\"I know him to be a swearer, a liar, and a Sabbath-breaker. I know him to be a lewd person, an idolater, and he fornicates with those he is not married to. He is an unclean person. I know him to be guilty of an abundance of evils. To my knowledge, he has been a very filthy man.\" (Mortify therefore your members which are upon the earth: fornication, uncleanness, inordinate affection, evil lust, and covetousness, which is idolatry; for which things' sake the wrath of God comes on the sons of disobedience. – Colossians 3:5-6)\n\nThe clerk raised his brows at such allegations. \"Where did he commit his wickedness? Did he do such things in private corners or more open and shamelessly?\"\n\n\"All over the town, my lord.\"\n\nThe clerk dismissed Know-All and called the next witness. \"Come, Mr. Tell-True, what do you have to say for our Lord the King against the prisoner at the bar?\"\n\nTell-True said, \"My lord, all the first witness has said I know to be true and a great deal more besides.\"\n\nThe clerk turned back to the prisoner. \"Mr. Lustings, do you hear what these gentlemen have said?\"\n\nThe prisoner said, \"I was always of the opinion that the happiest life a man could live on earth was to allow himself all he desired in the world. I've never expressed anything contrary to this opinion at any time but have lived by and loved such sentiments all my life. I was never so selfish or narrow-minded as to not recommend the same for others after having found such sweetness in them myself.\" (But evil men and seducers shall wax worse and worse, deceiving and being deceived. – 2 Timothy 3:13)\n\nThe court stopped him there and said, \"Enough evidence has proceeded from his own mouth to declare him guilty. Therefore, place him by the jailer and bring Mr. Incredulity to the bar.\"\n\nIncredulity stepped up to the bar, glanced over his shoulder at the other prisoners, and then focused on the clerk when he began to speak.\n\n\"Mr. Incredulity,\" the clerk began. \"You are here indicted by the name of Incredulity as an intruder in the town of Mansoul. You acted with deliberate and wicked intentions when you were an officer in the town of Mansoul and resisted the captains of the great King Shaddai, when they came and demanded possession of Mansoul. In fact, you attempted defiance to the name, forces, and cause of the King because you followed Diabolus as your captain and stirred up and encouraged the town of Mansoul to resist the King's forces. What do you say regarding this indictment? Are you guilty or not?\"\n\nIncredulity's lip curled in distain. \"I don't know Shaddai, and I love my old prince Diabolus. I thought it my duty to be true to the one in which I placed my confidence and to do what I could to possess the minds of the men of Mansoul to do all they could to resist strangers and foreigners and to fight against them with all their might. I have not and do not plan to change my opinion about this for fear of trouble, even though you hold the power now.\" (And chiefly those that walk after the flesh in the lust of uncleanness and despise dominion; presumptuous, arrogant, they are not afraid to speak evil of the higher powers. – 2 Peter 2:10)\n\nThe court had heard enough and the clerk said, \"It is clear this man is too depraved to be corrected. He upholds and defends his wickedness by bold, obstinate words and his rebellion with shameless confidence. Sit him by the jailer and have Mr. Forget-Good come to the bar.\"\n\nForget-Good walked up to the bar, rolled his eyes, and let out a sigh.\n\nThe clerk addressed the prisoner. \"Mr. Forget-Good, you are indicted by the name of Forget-Good as an intruder to the town of Mansoul. When the affairs of the town of Mansoul were under your control, you neglected to serve them in what was good. You fell in with the tyrant Diabolus and worked against Shaddai the King, against His captains, and against all who stood with Him. You broke His Law and endangered Mansoul with destruction. What do you say regarding these charges? Are you guilty or not guilty?\"\n\nForget-Good motioned with his hand as he spoke. \"My dear gentlemen and judges, in regard to the charges for which I stand here accused before you, please attribute my forgetfulness to my age and not to willfulness, craziness, or careless thinking. I hope by your benevolence you will excuse me from great punishment, even though I am guilty.\"\n\nThe court did not fall prey to his excuses, and the clerk responded, \"Forget-Good, your forgetfulness to do good wasn't due simply to frailty of mind. Rather, it was a purposeful choice. You hate to ponder or consider virtuous things, and for this reason you retained what was bad. But what was good you couldn't stand to think about. You are trying to use your age and your pretended craziness to blind the court like a cloak to cover your fraud. We shall see what the King's witnesses have to say against you.\"\n\nHe asked the witnesses, \"Is he guilty of this indictment or not?\"\n\nHate-Lies was the first witness to speak. \"My lord, I have heard this Forget-Good say he could never continue to think of goodness for even a quarter of an hour.\"\n\n\"Where did you hear him say this?\" the clerk asked.\n\n\"While in All-base Lane at a house next door to the sign of the Conscience-seared-with-a-hot-iron.\" (Now the Spirit speaks expressly, that in the latter times some shall depart from the faith, listening to spirits of error and doctrines of demons; that in hypocrisy shall speak lies; having their conscience seared as with a hot iron. – 1 Timothy 4:1-2)\n\nThe clerk asked Know-all for his testimony. \"Mr. Know-All, what can you say for our Lord the King against the prisoner standing at the bar?\"\n\n\"My lord, I know this man well,\" Know-All said. \"He is a Diabolian, the son of a Diabolian. His father's name was Love-Naught, and as for the prisoner, I have often heard him say he counted the very thoughts of goodness to be the most burdensome thing in the world.\"\n\n\"Where have you heard him say these things?\"\n\nKnow-All glanced at the prisoner. \"In Flesh Lane, right across from the church.\"\n\nThen the clerk called the third witness. \"Come, Mr. Tell-True, and give your evidence concerning the prisoner regarding the charges for which he stands here indicted by this honorable court.\"\n\n\"My lord, I have heard him often say he'd rather think of the vilest thing than the Holy Scriptures.\"\n\n\"Where did you hear him say such grievous words?\" the clerk asked.\n\nTell-True rubbed his chin as he considered his answer. \"Where? That is harder to answer than you would think, because I heard him say such things in a great many places, but particularly on Nauseous Street in the house of one by the name of Shameless, and in Filth Lane at the sign of the Reprobate next door to the Descent-into-the-Pit.\"\n\nBased on this testimony, the court said, \"Gentlemen, you have heard the indictment, his plea, and the testimony of the witnesses. Sit him by the jailer and bring Mr. Hard-Heart to the bar.\"\n\nHard-Heart stepped up to the bar with a disinterested air.\n\nThe clerk addressed him. \"Mr. Hard-Heart, you are indicted by the name of Hard-Heart as an intruder within the town of Mansoul. For you most desperately and wickedly possessed the town of Mansoul without showing even a hint of contrition or sorrow, but instead you displayed an inflexible persistence in sin. All that time while they departed from their faith and walked in rebellion against the blessed King Shaddai, your actions kept the town of Mansoul from showing any remorse or sorrow for their natural and moral evils. What do you say to this indictment? Are you guilty or not guilty?\"\n\nHard-Heart waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. \"My lord, I've never known what remorse or sorrow means. The admonitions of the gospel cannot reach me. (For unto us was the gospel preached, as well as unto them, but it did not profit those that heard the word without mixing it with faith. – Hebrews 4:2) I care about no one, and I can't be bothered with men's grief. When I harm or wrong someone, to me their mourning is music to my ears, for their groans won't enter into my heart.\"\n\nThe Trial of Hard-Heart\n\nThe court decided his case and the clerk said, \"You are surely a Diabolian and have convicted yourself. Have him sit by the jailer and bring Mr. False-Peace to the bar.\"\n\nFalse-Peace stepped up to the bar looking like a man without a care in the world.\n\n\"Mr. False-Peace,\" the clerk said, \"you are indicted by the name False-Peace as an intruder upon the town of Mansoul, for you acted most wickedly. You satanically brought, held, and kept the town of Mansoul in her apostasy and hellish rebellion, steeped in a false, groundless, and dangerous peace and damnable security. All of this was to the dishonor of the King and the transgression of His Law, and you brought great damage to the town of Mansoul. What do you say regarding these charges? Are you guilty or not?\"\n\nFalse-Peace answered quietly but firmly. \"Gentlemen, and those of you who are now appointed to be my judges, I acknowledge my name is Mr. Peace – but that my name is False-Peace I utterly deny.\" (They treat also the destruction of the daughter of my people lightly, saying, Peace, peace; when there is no peace. – Jeremiah 6:14) He looked directly at his judges. \"Your honors, if you will please send for any who intimately know me, the midwife who assisted in my birth or the gossips who attended my christening, they will all prove my name isn't False-Peace but Peace. For this reason, I can't plead to this indictment, because the charges are not filed against my true name and so are not properly attributed.\"\n\nFalse-Peace crossed his arms in front of his chest. \"I was always a man who loved to live quietly doing what I loved that others might enjoy doing the same. Therefore, when I saw any of my neighbors burdened with an uneasy or troubled mind, I endeavored to help them. I did what I could. In the case of this good disposition of mine, I tried to help many in a number of ways.\n\n\"First, in the beginning, when our town of Mansoul declined to follow the ways of Shaddai, some of the people were troubled afterwards. As they reflected on what they had done, they began to have distressing thoughts. Seeing them like this troubled me, and I sought to find a way to free them from their alarming thoughts again.\n\n\"Second, when the ways of the old world and Sodom were popular, if anything happened to disturb the customs of that lifestyle, I worked to quiet the trouble, so everyone could live doing as they pleased without being bothered in this way.\n\n\"Third, and even closer to home, when the wars broke out between Shaddai and Diabolus, if I saw anyone from the town of Mansoul feeling worried or afraid of destruction, I often found some way to help them stop worrying and to bring them a sense of peace again. (Therefore they shall eat of the fruit of their own way, and be filled with their own counsel. – Proverbs 1:31) Since I have always been a man of virtuous temperament, some have called me a peacemaker. As a peacemaker, gentlemen, should I be deemed by you who stand for justice and fairness in Mansoul as a man who deserves this inhuman treatment? No! Instead I deserve not only my freedom, but also that I should be granted the authority to seek damages from those accusing me in this way.\"\n\nThe clerk did not reply to the prisoner but announced, \"Officer of the court, make a proclamation.\"\n\nThe officer of the court called for silence. Then he said, \"At this point the prisoner claims to be free from guilt. Seeing the prisoner has denied his name to be the one mentioned in the indictment, if there is anyone here who can provide pertinent information regarding his correct name to the court, we ask that they come forward and give their evidence.\"\n\nThe two witnesses came into the court to tell what they knew concerning the prisoner. The name of the first was Search-Truth and the name of the other Vouch-Truth. (And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall set you free. – John 8:32) The court questioned these men, asking if they knew the prisoner. \"What can you say concerning him?\" they asked, \"for he denies the accusations.\"\n\nSearch-Truth began to answer first. He said, \"My lord, I...\"\n\nBut the court interrupted him. \"Stop. Refrain from answering. First you must take the oath.\"\n\nThey swore him in, and once he took the oath to tell the truth, Search-Truth began again. \"My lord, I know this man and have known him since he was a child. I can attest that his name is False-Peace. I know his father whose name was Mr. Flatter. His mother, before she was married, went by the name of Ms. Sooth-Up. The two of them didn't live together for very long before they had this son. When he was born, they called him False-Peace. I was his playmate, even though I was somewhat older than him. When the time came for his mother to call him home, she used to call out, 'False-Peace! False-Peace! Come home now or I shall come fetch you!'\n\n\"Yes, I knew him back when he suckled at his mother's breast, and even though I was little, I remember when his mother used to sit and play with him in her arms; she would coo and sweetly call him 'My little False-Peace! My pretty False-Peace!' and 'Oh! My sweet little rogue, False-Peace!' Again and again she used that name, saying things like, 'My little bird, False-Peace! How much I love my child!' And even though he has had the audacity to deny it in open court, the gossips also know this to be fact.\"\n\nOnce Search-Truth finished giving his testimony, the second witness, Vouch-Truth, was called upon to speak. They swore him in and asked him, \"What do you know of the prisoner standing at the bar?\"\n\nVouch-Truth said, \"My lord, all that the former witness said is true. His name is False-Peace, the son of Mr. Flatter and of Ms. Sooth-Up. In times past, I have seen him angry with those who have called him anything other than False-Peace. His anger was toward any who mocked or nicknamed him, but this was during the time when False-Peace was considered an important man and when the Diabolians were the noble men in Mansoul.\"\n\nBased on the testimony of these two witnesses, the clerk said, \"Gentlemen, you have heard what these two men have sworn against the prisoner at the bar.\" (At the mouth of two witnesses or three witnesses shall he that is worthy of death be put to death, but at the mouth of one witness he shall not be put to death. – Deuteronomy 17:6)\n\nHe turned and looked at the prisoner. \"Mr. False-Peace, you have denied your name is False-Peace, yet these honest men have sworn it is indeed your name. As to your plea, you aren't being charged for evildoing because you are a man of peace or a peacemaker among your neighbors. In fact, you are being charged because you acted wickedly. You satanically held the town of Mansoul in the bondage of apostasy and rebellion against its King. You lulled them into a false and damnable peace that was disobedient to the Law of Shaddai, and you put the miserable town of Mansoul at risk of destruction.\n\n\"Until now, all you have pleaded is the denial of your name and claim you are a peacemaker. But here we have witnesses who prove you are the man False-Peace, and the peace you boast about creating among your neighbors is not the peace that accompanies truth and holiness. Rather, it is built upon a lie and is both deceitful and worthy of eternal punishment. (Ye are of your father the devil, and the desires of your father ye desire to do. He was a murderer from the beginning and abode not in the truth because there is no truth in him. When he speaks a lie, he speaks of his own, for he is a liar and the father of it. – John 8:44) The great Shaddai has said as much.\"\n\nThen he turned from the prisoner and addressed the court. \"The prisoner's plea does not acquit him from the charges. The indictment against him remains. However, in fairness, we shall call the witnesses who are to testify to the facts of the matter and see what they have to say for our Lord the King against the prisoner.\"\n\nKnow-All was the first of the witnesses to be sworn in. The clerk asked him, \"What do you have to say for our Lord the King against the prisoner at the bar?\"\n\nKnow-All's lips thinned into a straight line. \"My lord,\" he said, \"to my knowledge this man has made it his business for a long time to keep the town of Mansoul in a sinful quietness. This he did in the midst of all her unlawful indulgence of lust, filthiness, and disorder. I heard him say, 'Come, let's flee from all trouble no matter the grounds or extent of it. Let's stand for a quiet and peaceable life even though it lacks a good foundation.'\"\n\nThe clerk dismissed Know-All and called the next witness. \"Come, Mr. Hate-Lies, and tell us what have you to say in this matter.\"\n\n\"My lord,\" Hate-Lies said, \"I have heard the prisoner say that peace reached by way of unrighteousness is better than trouble with truth.\"\n\nThe clerk's brow furrowed as he looked from the witness to the prisoner and back. \"Where did you hear him say this?\"\n\n\"I heard him say those exact words in Folly-yard at the house of Mr. Simple next door to the sign of the Self-Deceiver. In fact, to my knowledge he has said this at least twenty times in that very place.\"\n\nThe clerk looked to the judges and shrugged. \"We may spare further witnesses. This evidence is clear and expresses the guilt in the whole matter.\" He said to the officer, \"Have him sit by the jailer and bring Mr. No-Truth to the bar.\"\n\nWhen the next prisoner stepped up to the bar, the clerk read the charges. \"Mr. No-Truth, you are here indicted by the name of No-Truth as an intruder in the town of Mansoul. To the dishonor of Shaddai, you have always endangered the town of Mansoul with utter ruin. After Mansoul's total desertion from her King – when she turned to the envious tyrant Diabolus – you defaced and spoiled all that remained of the Law and the image of Shaddai found in the town. (Who leave the paths of uprightness to walk in the ways of darkness, who rejoice to do evil and delight in wicked perversion. – Proverbs 2:13-14) What do you say? Are you guilty of this indictment or not?\"\n\nNo-Truth shook his head. \"Not guilty, my lord.\"\n\nAgain, the witnesses were called, and Know-All was the first to present his evidence against the prisoner.\n\n\"My lord,\" Know-All said, \"this man pulled down the image of Shaddai with his own hands, and he did it at Diabolus's command. I saw him do that and more, for he set up the horned image of the beast Diabolus where Shaddai's image had been – again at the bidding of Diabolus. He also tore away every last shred he could find of the Law of the King in Mansoul and had it destroyed.\"\n\n\"Were there any others who saw him do this?\" the clerk asked.\n\nHate-Lies raised his hand. \"I did, my lord, and so did many others, for this wasn't done in secret or hidden in some corner. It took place in open view of all.\" Hate-Lies glanced toward the prisoner. The two locked eyes as Hate-Lies said, \"He chose to do it publicly, and he delighted in doing it.\"\n\nThe clerk stood before the prisoner and asked, \"Mr. No-Truth, how could you have the confidence and boldness to plead not guilty, when you were so clearly the perpetrator of all this wickedness?\"\n\nNo-Truth spoke matter-of-factly. \"Sir, I figured I must say something, and as my name is, so I speak. Until now, it has served as an advantage. I didn't realize that by speaking no truth, I would reap the same result as if I'd told the truth.\"\n\nThe clerk dismissed him with a wave. \"Have him sit by the jailer and bring Mr. Pitiless to the bar.\"\n\nMr. Pitiless was brought to the bar and the clerk addressed him with his charges. \"Mr. Pitiless, you are indicted by the name of Pitiless as an intruder within the town of Mansoul where you most traitorously and wickedly shut up all kindness, tenderness, and compassion. You wouldn't allow Mansoul to grieve or feel the pain of her own misery resulting from the abandonment of the faith and principles which she had professed from her rightful King. Instead, you eluded such consequences and turned her mind from the truth and any thoughts that would have led her to repentance. What do you say to this indictment? Are you guilty or not guilty?\"\n\n\"I am not guilty of being pitiless. In fact, I did all I could to cheer Mansoul up, according to my name, which is not Pitiless but Cheer-Up. I couldn't bear to see Mansoul in such a gloomy state of mind.\"\n\nThe clerk raised his brows in surprise. \"You deny your name? You mean to say your name is Cheer-Up rather than Pitiless?\" He turned to the officer of the court and told him to call for the witnesses. When they gathered before him, he asked, \"Witnesses, what do you have to say regarding this plea?\"\n\nKnow-All spoke first. \"My lord, his name is Pitiless. He himself has signed it as such on all the important papers he has filed or recorded. But these Diabolians love to counterfeit their names: Mr. Covetousness covers himself with the name of Good-Husbandry or some similar name. Mr. Pride can, when needed, call himself Mr. Neat, Mr. Handsome, and other such names. The Diabolians are known for this.\"\n\nThe clerk nodded his understanding and turned to Mr. Tell-True. \"And what do you say regarding the prisoner's claim?\"\n\nTell-True spoke without hesitation. \"His name is Pitiless, my lord. I have known him from a child, and he has done all the wickedness for which he stands charged in the indictment. But he isn't alone. A multitude of them aren't familiar with the danger of being doomed to eternal punishment. For this reason, they tell all those who are depressed or dejected that they should avoid such thoughts because they seriously think about the damning of their souls.\"\n\nAfter Pitiless took his seat, the clerk ordered Mr. Haughty to be brought to the bar by the jailer. When the prisoner stood at the rail, the clerk said, \"Mr. Haughty, you are indicted under the name of Haughty as an intruder within the town of Mansoul. You are accused of traitorously and devilishly teaching the town of Mansoul to move loftily and boldly against the summons delivered by the captains of King Shaddai. (Proud and haughty scorner is his name, who deals in proud wrath. – Proverbs 21:24)\n\n\"You also taught the town of Mansoul to speak contemptuously against the great King Shaddai and encouraged them to vilify their King by word and example. In fact, you urged Mansoul to take up arms against the King and His Son Emmanuel. So how do you plead? Are you guilty of this indictment or not?\"\n\nHaughty looked at the clerk and witnesses with an over-confident stare. \"Gentlemen, I have always been a man of courage and valor. I've never snuck about with my head hanging like the head of a bulrush. Nor has it ever pleased me to see men disguise permanent minor defenses outside of a principal fortification. For even though their adversaries seemed to have ten times the advantage, these outer defenses are designed to limit those who oppose them. I didn't consider who my enemy was or even the reason or motive behind my actions. It was enough to me if I bore it bravely, fought like a man, and came out as a victor.\"\n\nAfter hearing this, the court read the charges. \"Mr. Haughty, you aren't being indicted for being a valiant man, nor for your courage and bravery in times of distress. You are being charged because you made use of this pretended valor to draw the town of Mansoul into acts of rebellion against the great King and His Son Emmanuel. This is the crime you are charged with by this indictment.\"\n\nBut the prisoner didn't answer a word. (He that covers his sins shall not prosper, but whosoever confesses and forsakes them shall attain mercy. – Proverbs 28:13)\n\nOnce the court addressed all the charges against the prisoners, then they handed them over to the jury for the official verdict. They were given these instructions: \"Gentlemen of the jury, you have witnessed all that has happened here. You have heard the indictments, the prisoners' pleas, and what the witnesses have testified against them. Now it is up to you. Withdraw to the private chambers and consider a just verdict in the ways of truth and righteousness, and suitably include what the King has against them.\"\n\nThen the jury, which was made up of Mr. Belief, Mr. True-Heart, Mr. Upright, Mr. Hate-bad, Mr. Love-God, Mr. See-Truth, Mr. Heavenly-Mind, Mr. Moderate, Mr. Thankful, Mr. Humble, Mr. Good-Work, and Mr. Zeal-for-God, withdrew, and while sequestered, they fell into deliberation to decide on a verdict.\n\nMr. Belief, the foreman of the jury, spoke first to the others seated around the table. \"Gentlemen, as far as I am concerned, I believe they all deserve death.\"\n\n\"Spot on,\" True-Heart agreed. \"I am in complete agreement.\"\n\n\"Oh, what a blessing it is that such criminals as these have been apprehended!\" Hate-Bad added.\n\n\"Agreed!\" Love-God said. \"This is one of the most joy-filled days I've ever experienced.\"\n\nMr. See-Truth nodded. \"And I know if we judge them worthy of a sentence of death, our verdict shall be upheld by Shaddai Himself.\"\n\n\"Without question,\" said Heavenly-Mind. \"When all manner of beasts such as these are cast out of Mansoul, what a desirable town it will be!\"\n\nMr. Moderate leaned his elbows on the table and steepled his fingers. \"I don't usually pass judgment rashly, but these crimes are so notorious, and the witnesses so substantial, that a man who says the prisoners ought not to die must be willfully blind.\"\n\n\"Blessed be God,\" said Thankful, \"that the traitors are safely in custody.\"\n\nMr. Humble knelt on his bare knees and said, \"I agree with you in this.\"\n\n\"I am also glad of this,\" Good-Work added.\n\nThen the ardent, truehearted Mr. Zeal-for-God stood and loudly said, \"Cut them off! They have been like the plague and have sought the destruction of Mansoul!\"\n\nIn this manner, they were all in agreement regarding their verdict, so they entered into the court to deliver their decision.\n\nThe clerk checked to be sure all were present with a roll call. \"Gentlemen of the jury, answer all to your names: Mr. Belief, one; Mr. True-Heart, two; Mr. Upright, three; Mr. Hate-Bad, four; Mr. Love-God, five; Mr. See-Truth, six; Mr. Heavenly-Mind, seven; Mr. Moderate, eight; Mr. Thankful, nine; Mr. Humble, ten; Mr. Good-Work, eleven; and Mr. Zeal-for-God, twelve. Good men and true, do you stand together in your verdict? Are you all in agreement?\"\n\n\"Yes, my lord.\"\n\n\"Who shall speak for you?\" the clerk asked.\n\n\"Our foreman, Mr. Belief.\"\n\nThe clerk nodded. \"You, the gentlemen of the jury being listed as jurors for our Lord the King to serve here in a matter of life and death, have heard the trials of each of these prisoners at the bar. What do you say? Are they guilty of the crimes for which they stand here indicted or are they not guilty?\"\n\nThe foreman, Mr. Belief, answered, \"Guilty, my lord.\"\n\nThe court accepted the verdict and said to the jailer, \"Look after your prisoners until sentencing.\"\n\nThis all happened in the morning, and in the afternoon they received the sentence of death according to the Law. After receiving his orders, the jailer put all the prisoners in the most secure cell at the heart of the prison to hold them until the next morning when they were to be executed.\n\nAll seemed to be going as it should; however, in the interval between the sentencing and the time of execution, one of the prisoners by the name of Incredulity broke out of prison and escaped. He found his way out of the town of Mansoul, traveled quite a distance, and lay lurking in holes and crevices until he found an opportunity to go back to Mansoul to cause harm for the way they had treated him.\n\nOld Incredulity Escapes from Prison\n\nWhen Mr. True-Man, the jailer, realized he'd lost his prisoner, he took it very hard, because that prisoner was the worst of all the gang. First, the jailer went to the Lord Mayor Understanding, Mr. Recorder, and Lord Willbewill and told them about what had happened, in order to make a thorough search for the escapee throughout the town of Mansoul. He received an order to make the search for the prisoner, but he could not find him.\n\nFrom the evidence gathered, they determined he had lurked outside of the town for a while. Some had caught a glimpse of him here and there, as he made his escape out of Mansoul, and one or two also affirmed they saw him outside the town, scrambling over the plain. After he'd been gone for quite some time, it was affirmed by Mr. Did-See that the prisoner was spotted cutting across dry places until he met with Diabolus, his friend, upon Hell-gate Hill.\n\nIncredulity and Diabolus Meet at Hellgate-Hill\n\nAnd what a pitiful story the old gentleman delivered to Diabolus, concerning what he called \"depressing corrections\" Emmanuel had brought about in Mansoul. He said, \"First, after some delays, Mansoul received a general pardon at the hands of Emmanuel. (For thy name's sake, O LORD, pardon my iniquity; for it is great. – Psalm 25:11) And Mansoul invited Him into the town and gave Him possession of the castle.\" Incredulity then added, \"They called His soldiers into the town, and the townsfolk were eager for the opportunity to offer lodging to most of them. They entertained Him with the timbrel, song, and dance. However, the thing that bothers me most is that He has pulled down your image and set up His own. He also removed your officers and set up His own.\n\n\"On top of all this, Willbewill, that rebel whom I never thought would have turned from us, is now standing in great favor with Emmanuel, just as he once did with you! But Willbewill has received a special commission from his Master to search for, apprehend, and put to death all the Diabolians he finds in Mansoul.\" Incredulity motioned with his hands as his tone grew more severe. \"Willbewill has already captured and imprisoned eight of my lord's most trusted friends in Mansoul.\" Incredulity turned, unable to look at Diabolus. \"It is with grief I tell you this, my lord, for they have all been arraigned and condemned to death. In fact, they have probably already been executed.\" He glanced back at his lord. \"I told my lord of eight, but I myself was the ninth. I would have drunk of the same cup, if I hadn't made my escape as you can see.\"\n\nWhen Diabolus heard this rather ludicrous story, he yelled and drew in a deep breath like a dragon and let out a great roar, making the sky dark. He swore he would get revenge on Mansoul for this. So he and his old friend, Incredulity, put their heads together and consulted about how they might take possession of the town of Mansoul again.\n\nHowever, the day arrived when the prisoners in Mansoul were to be executed. They were brought to the cross in a most solemn manner by the town, for the Prince said this task should be accomplished by the town of Mansoul. He said, \"In this way I will see the cheerful readiness of my now-redeemed Mansoul to keep My Word and follow My commandments, that I may bless Mansoul in doing this deed. Proof of freedom of hypocrisy pleases Me very much. Therefore, let Mansoul lay their hands upon these Diabolians to destroy them.\"\n\nSo the town of Mansoul slew them, according to the word of their Prince, but when they were brought to the cross to die, the Diabolians made it troublesome work for the men. Every one of them harbored irreconcilable enmity and anger in their hearts toward Mansoul, and because they knew they must die, they grew bold at the cross and resisted the men of the town of Mansoul. (Because the prudence of the flesh is enmity against God; for it does not subject itself to the law of God, neither indeed can it. – Romans 8:7) In fact, they struggled so much that the men of Mansoul cried out for help to the captains and men of war.\n\nNow the great Shaddai had an officer who managed His affairs in the town. This officer loved the men of Mansoul and was present at the place of execution. When he heard the sounds of struggling and the unruliness of the prisoners against the men of Mansoul as they cried out for help, he joined the men of Mansoul to help them finish the job. Together they crucified the Diabolians who had been a plague, a grief, and an offense to the town of Mansoul.\n\nChapter 18\n\nMansoul Is Brought to Order\n\nWhen this good work was done, the Prince came down to visit the men of Mansoul, speak to them in a comforting manner, and strengthen their hands in such work. He said to them, \"By this act, I have tried you and found you love Me. For you observe and respect My Laws and in this way honor Me.\"\n\nThen to show them the town would not lose or be weakened in any way by the loss of the prisoners, He said, \"I will make another captain from among you, and this captain will be the ruler of a thousand for the good and benefit of the town of Mansoul, which is now flourishing.\" He called a man by the name of Waiting to come to Him and said, \"Go quickly up to the castle gate and inquire there for a young man by the name of Mr. Experience who waits upon Captain Credence. Ask him to come here to Me.\"\n\nThe good Prince Emmanuel's messenger hurried and delivered the message as commanded. He found the young gentleman, Mr. Experience, lingering in the castle yard as he watched the captain train and muster his men. Mr. Waiting said to him, \"Sir, the Prince asks that you come down to His Highness straightaway.\" So he brought the young man to Emmanuel, and when he arrived before the Prince, the young man bowed respectfully.\n\nNow the men of the town knew Mr. Experience well, for he was born and bred in Mansoul. He was known to be a man of admirable conduct and valor, and he was a person sensible and wise in matters. He was a handsome person, well-spoken, and very successful in his undertakings.\n\nWhen the people saw the Prince was so taken with Mr. Experience, they were filled with joy that He would make him a captain over a band of men. With one mind, they bowed the knee before Emmanuel and shouted, \"Let Emmanuel live forever!\"\n\nThen the Prince said to the young gentleman, \"Mr. Experience, I have deemed it good to bestow upon you a position of trust and honor within My town of Mansoul.\" (For the administration of this service not only supplies the needs of the saints, but also abounds in much thanksgiving unto God; that by the experience of this ministration, they glorify God for the obedience of your consent unto the gospel of the Christ and in your liberal distribution unto them and unto everyone. – 2 Corinthians 9:12-13)\n\nUpon hearing this, the young man bowed his head and worshipped.\n\nEmmanuel said, \"The position of which I speak is that of a captain over a thousand men in My beloved town of Mansoul.\"\n\nThen the newly appointed captain said, \"Let the King live!\"\n\nThe Prince gave orders to the King's officer over such matters to draw up a commission for Mr. Experience to make him a captain over a thousand men. \"And when you have written it, bring it to me, so I may set My seal to it.\"\n\nAll was accomplished as He commanded. The commission was drawn up, brought to Emmanuel, and He set His seal to it. Then He sent the commission to the captain by the hand of Mr. Waiting.\n\nAs soon as the captain received his commission, he sounded his trumpet calling for volunteers. Young men quickly answered the call and joined him where he stood. Among them were sons of the greatest and most important men in the town who sent their sons to be enlisted under his command. Therefore, Captain Experience came under Emmanuel's command for the good of the town of Mansoul. For his lieutenant, he selected Mr. Skillful, and for command of his company of cavalry, Mr. Memory. I don't need to name his under-officers, but I will say his colors were white and the symbol on his shield was the dead lion and dead bear.\n\nWhen the Prince returned to His royal palace, the elders of the town of Mansoul, namely, the Lord Mayor, the Recorder, and Lord Willbewill, went to congratulate Him. They wanted to thank Him in a special way for His love, care, and tender compassion which He showed to His ever-indebted town of Mansoul. After a time of sweet communion, the townsmen solemnly ended their celebration and returned to their residences.\n\nAt this time, Emmanuel appointed a day on which He would renew their charter. He planned to renew it but also enlarge it to fix several defects in it, so Mansoul's yoke might be made easier. (Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn of me, for I am meek and humble of heart, and ye shall find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light. – Matthew 11:28-30)\n\nHe did this on His own, freely, with open communication and honorable intentions, without any requests or petitions on the part of Mansoul. So when He sent for the old charter and saw it, He laid it aside.\n\nThe Prince said, \"Now that which decays and grows old is ready to vanish. And the town of Mansoul shall have another charter, a new and better one which is perpetual and by far more certain.\" (For this is the testament that I will ordain to the house of Israel after those days, saith the Lord: I will give my laws into their soul and write them upon their hearts, and I will be to them a God, and they shall be to me a people: and no one shall teach his neighbour nor anyone his brother, saying, Know the Lord, for all shall know me, from the least to the greatest. For I will reconcile their iniquities and their sins, and their iniquities I will remember no more. In that he says, New, he has made the first old. Now that which decays and waxes old is ready to vanish away. – Hebrews 8:10-13)\n\nThe essence of this new charter is as follows: \"I am Emmanuel, Prince of Peace, and a great lover of the town of Mansoul. In the name of My Father and in My own merciful disposition, I do treat My beloved town of Mansoul with tenderness and mercy; I forgive, spare, grant, and bestow the following:\n\n\"First: free, full, and everlasting forgiveness of all wrongs, injuries, and offenses done by them against My Father, Me, their neighbor, or themselves. (He will turn again, he will have mercy on us; he will subdue our iniquities; and will cast all our sins into the depths of the sea. – Micah 7:19)\n\n\"Second: I give them the Holy Law and My testament. All that is contained within it is for their everlasting comfort and consolation.\n\n\"Third: I give them a portion of the self-same grace and goodness that dwells in My Father's heart and Mine. (I thank my God always on your behalf for the grace of God which is given you in Christ Jesus, that in every thing ye are enriched in him in all word and in all knowledge. – 1 Corinthians 1:4-5)\n\n\"Fourth: I grant and bestow upon them freely the world and what is in it for their good. (Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above and comes down from the Father of lights, with whom is no variableness neither shadow of turning. – James 1:17) They shall have power over them and will stand with the honor of My Father, My glory, and their comfort. Yes, I grant them the benefits of life and death, things present, and things to come. No other city, town, or company shall have this privilege, but only my Mansoul.\n\n\"Fifth: I grant them permission and free access to come to Me in My palace at all times – to My palace above or below, so they can make known their wants to Me. I promise them I will hear and make right all their grievances. (Let us, therefore, come boldly unto the throne of his grace, that we may obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need. – Hebrews 4:16)\n\n\"Sixth: I grant the town of Mansoul full power and authority to seek out, take, enslave, and destroy all manner of Diabolians at any time from wherever they are found in or about the town of Mansoul.\n\n\"Seventh: I grant to my beloved town of Mansoul authority to not allow any foreigner or stranger or their offspring to be free within the blessed town of Mansoul. Nor shall they share in Mansoul's valuable privileges. All the grants, privileges, and immunities I bestow upon Mansoul shall be for those who are native born and thus true inhabitants. All I give is to them and to their offspring after them.\n\n\"But all Diabolians of every sort born in another country or kingdom shall be hindered from sharing in these privileges.\" (Be ye not unequally yoked together with unbelievers, for what fellowship does righteousness have with unrighteousness? and what communion does light have with darkness? And what concord does Christ have with Belial? or what part do the faithful have with the unfaithful? And what agreement does the temple of God have with idols? for ye are the temple of the living God; as God has said, I will dwell in them and walk in them and I will be their God, and they shall be my people. – 2 Corinthians 6:14-16)\n\nWhen the town of Mansoul received their gracious charter from the hand of Emmanuel, it embodied even more than I've explained to you here, but what I've offered provides the essence of it. They carried it to the public in the marketplace, and there Mr. Recorder read it in the presence of all the people. After this, they carried it to the castle gates and engraved it upon the doors in letters of gold, so the town of Mansoul might always view it and be reminded of what a blessed freedom their Prince had bestowed upon them. This was done so their joy might be increased and their love renewed for their great and good Emmanuel. (These things I have spoken unto you that my joy may abide in you and that your joy might be fulfilled. – John 15:11)\n\nThe Charter Is Read in the Market Place\n\nAt this point, you can't imagine what joy, comfort, and relief possessed the hearts of the men of Mansoul! A great celebration followed. The bells rang, the minstrels played, and people danced. The captains shouted with joy, the silk flags waved in the wind displaying the colors, and the silver trumpets sounded. While all this was going on, the Diabolians hid their heads like those long dead.\n\nAnd when it was over, the Prince sent for the elders of the town of Mansoul and talked with them about a ministry He intended to establish among them – a ministry that might open them to instruction in things that concerned both their present and future state. (Now then we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God did exhort you by us; we beseech you in Christ's name, be ye reconciled to God. – 2 Corinthians 5:20)\n\nWhen the elders of Mansoul brought this news to the people, the whole town came running, united in purpose, for whatever the Prince did pleased the people very much. With one accord, they implored His Majesty to establish such a ministry among them that might teach them both Law and judgment, statute and commandment, so they might be familiar in all things good and wholesome. (Study to show thyself approved unto God, a workman that has nothing to be ashamed of, rightly dividing the word of truth. – 2 Timothy 2:15) So He said, \"I will grant your requests and will establish two among you – one from My Father's court and one who is a native of Mansoul.\n\n\"He who is from the court is a person of the same quality and dignity as my Father and Me. He is the Lord Chief Secretary of My Father's house. For He is and always has been the chief dictator of all My Father's laws – a person altogether well skilled in all mysteries and knowledge of mysteries as is My Father or Myself. He is one with Us in nature and as loving and faithful in the eternal concerns of the town of Mansoul.\n\n\"And this is He,\" said the Prince, \"who must be your chief teacher; for it is He and He only who can teach you clearly in all exalted and supernatural things. (But the anointing which ye have received of him abides in you, and ye do not need that anyone teach you; but as the same anointing teaches you of all things and is truth, and is no lie; and even as it has taught you, abide ye in him. – 1 John 2:27) Only He knows the ways and methods of My Father at court. None other can show the inclination of My Father's heart at all times, in all things, upon all occasions towards Mansoul. For no man knows the things of a man but the spirit of a man in him, and in the same way, no man knows the things of my Father but His high and mighty Secretary. (For who among men knows the things of man, except the spirit of man which is in him? Even so no one has known the things of God, but the Spirit of God – 1 Corinthians 2:11) Nor can any other tell Mansoul how and what they shall do to keep themselves in the love of My Father like the Secretary.\n\n\"He is the One who can bring forgotten things to your remembrance, and who can tell you things to come. For this reason, this Teacher must have pre-eminence in your desires, inclinations, and judgment, before any other teacher. (But the Comforter, which is the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, he shall teach you all things and bring to your remembrance all the things that I have said unto you. – John 14:26)\n\n\"His personal dignity, the excellency of His teaching, and the great skill He has to help you make and draw up requests, supplications, and prayer to My Father to ask for help in a manner pleasing to Him requires that you love the Teacher, fear Him, and pay attention that you don't grieve Him. (And likewise also the Spirit helps our weakness; for we know not how to pray as we ought, but the Spirit itself makes entreaty for us with groanings which cannot be uttered. – Romans 8:26)\n\n\"This Person can put life, power, and strength into all He says, and He can put it into your heart. This Person can make a prophet of you and can make you tell about future events. Through this Person, you must compose all your petitions to my Father and Me, always obtaining His advice and counsel first, before you let anything enter the town or castle of Mansoul. If you don't do this, it may very well disgust and grieve this noble Person. (And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God with which ye are sealed for the day of redemption. – Ephesians 4:30)\n\n\"Listen to what I'm telling you – do not grieve this Minister, for if you do, He may fight against you. If He is once forced to set Himself against you in battle array because of your actions, it will distress you more than twelve legions sent from my Father's court to make war upon you.\n\n\"But, as I said, if you listen to Him and love Him; if you devote yourselves to His teaching and seek to be turned from your way and go His way to seek communion with Him, you shall find Him ten times better than anything in the whole world. For He will shed the love of My Father in your hearts and beyond the walls of Mansoul. And native Mansoulians will be the wisest, most blessed of all people.\"\n\nThen the Prince called the old gentleman to come to Him who had previously been the Recorder of Mansoul, Mr. Conscience. He said to him, \"In view of the fact you are well skilled in the Law and government of the town of Mansoul and because you are well-spoken, you are qualified to deliver My Master's will to people in all the earth and in domestic matters.\" He went on to say He would make him a minister for, in, and to the town of Mansoul, regarding all the laws, statutes, and judgments of the town.\n\n\"And,\" the Prince said, \"you must limit yourself to teaching moral virtues and how they apply to civil duties in the natural course of things. However, you must not attempt to presume to be a revealer of those high and supernatural mysteries kept close in the bosom of Shaddai, My Father. For those things no man knows, and they can only be revealed by My Father's Secretary. (Howbeit when he, the Spirit of truth, is come, he will guide you into all truth, for he shall not speak of himself; but whatsoever he shall hear, that shall he speak, and he will cause you to know the things which are to come. He shall clarify me, for he shall take of that which is mine and shall cause you to know it. – John 16:13-14)\n\n\"You are a native of the town of Mansoul, but the Lord Secretary is a native of My Father. Therefore, as you have knowledge of the laws and customs of the town, so He has knowledge of deep things and the will of My Father.\n\n\"Therefore, Mr. Conscience, although I have made you a minister and a preacher to the town of Mansoul, you and the rest of Mansoul shall be students taught by the Lord Secretary, as He teaches this people.\n\n\"For this reason, you must go to Him for information and knowledge about all exalted and supernatural things, for though there is a spirit in man, this Person's inspiration must give him understanding.\n\n\"Therefore, Mr. Recorder, keep yourself humble and remember that the Diabolians, who didn't hold true to their first responsibility but left their own assignment, are the same who are now prisoners in the pit. With this in mind, be content with your situation in life.\n\n\"I have made you my Father's proxy on earth in things which I mentioned to you earlier. Now use this power to teach Mansoul these things and, yes, even force them with whips and rebukes, if they don't listen to do your instruction.\n\n\"And, Mr. Recorder, because you are old and have become feeble due to many abuses, I'm giving you permission to go to My fountain whenever you wish. From here, you may drink freely of the blood of My grape, for My conduit always runs with wine. Doing so shall drive out foul, gross, and hurtful thoughts, moods, or fixed evil from your heart. It will brighten your eyes and strengthen your memory to help you retain and recall all that the King's most noble Secretary teaches you.\"\n\nEmmanuel's Fountain\n\nWhen the Prince returned Mr. Recorder into the place and office of a minister to Mansoul, the man thankfully accepted. Emmanuel then turned to address the townsmen.\n\n\"Fix your eyes and attention on My love and care towards you,\" He said. \"To all that is in the past, I have added this mercy with the most noble Secretary. He will teach you in all exalted and heavenly mysteries.\" He glanced at all those standing before Him. \"I now appoint you preachers.\"\n\nHe gestured toward the Recorder, Mr. Conscience, and said, \"This gentleman is to teach you all things human and domestic, for this is his work, and he is not prohibited from telling Mansoul anything he has heard and received from the mouth of the Lord High Secretary. However, he should not attempt to pretend to be one who makes known those exalted mysteries himself, for the revealing and the discovery of them to and by Mansoul lies only in the power, authority, and skill of the Lord High Secretary Himself.\n\n\"However, Mr. Conscience may talk of them and so may the rest of Mansoul, and you may impress these truths upon each other for the benefit of the whole body. Therefore, observe and do these things throughout your life, and you will enjoy a long life blessed with peace. (My son, forget not my law, but let thine heart keep my commandments: For they shall add length of days and long life and peace unto thee. – Proverbs 3:1-2)\n\n\"And now one more thing,\" Emmanuel said to His beloved Mr. Recorder and to all the town of Mansoul. \"Regarding things in which High Secretary has authority to teach, you must not dwell upon such things using your own reasoning. In regard to your trust and what you expect in the next world, which I intend to give to Mansoul when they and this world are worn out, you must hold to His doctrine. He is your Teacher after the first order.\n\n\"And Mr. Conscience mustn't look for direction on how to live based on that which he discovers himself. His dependence must be founded in the doctrine of the other Teacher. For even the Recorder must pay close attention, so he doesn't receive any doctrine based on the confines of his own formal knowledge. The only acceptable doctrine or point of doctrine is that communicated by his Superior Teacher.\"\n\nAfter the Prince settled things within the town of Mansoul, He proceeded to give the elders of the town a necessary caution about how they should carry this message to the high and noble captains whom He had brought with Him from His Father's court to the town of Mansoul. These captains loved the town of Mansoul. They were handpicked men chosen from an abundance of the best-suited men who would faithfully serve in the wars of Shaddai against the Diabolians for the salvation of the town of Mansoul.\n\nEmmanuel said, \"I now charge you, the inhabitants of the currently flourishing town of Mansoul, not to bring this message in a rough or reluctant manner to My captains or their men, since they are handpicked and choice men – men chosen from many of the best for the good of the town of Mansoul. I command you, therefore, to deliver it willingly to them. For though they have the hearts and faces of lions, a little discouragement flung in their direction from the town of Mansoul will depress their spirits and diminish their courage. This will affect their ability when called to engage and fight with the King's foes and the enemies of the town of Mansoul, which can happen at any time.\n\n\"For this reason, My beloved, do not bring My message in an unkind manner to My valiant captains and courageous men of war. Instead, love and nourish them, run to support them, and place them next to your heart. (Let every soul submit itself to the higher powers. For there is no power but of God, and the powers that be are ordained of God. – Romans 13:1) They will not only fight for you but will also cause all those Diabolians who seek your utter destruction to flee from you.\n\n\"If any of them should fall sick or weak at any time and not be able to perform that office of love which they are willing to carry out with all their hearts, don't slight them or despise them. Instead, strengthen and encourage them, because though they may feel weak and ready to die, they are your fence, your guard, your wall, your gates, your locks, and your bars of defense. When they are weak, they can do little. They need to be helped by you, and when you do help, you can expect great things from them. (For this cause ye also pay them tribute, for they are God's ministers, attending continually to this very thing. Render therefore to all their dues. – Romans 13:6-7a) And when they are well, you know what heroic acts and feats of war they are able to achieve and will perform for you.\n\n\"If they are weak, the town of Mansoul cannot be strong. If they are strong, Mansoul cannot be weak. For this reason, your safety depends on their health and in your encouraging them. Remember, if they are sick, they will catch that disease of the town of Mansoul itself.\n\n\"These things I have said to you because I care about your welfare and honor. Therefore, Mansoul, observe these principles. Be punctual in all things I charge you to do. I'm not only talking about what you do as a town corporately, in which you depend on your officers, guards, and guides. I'm also speaking to you as individuals whose well-being depends on following the orders and commandments of your Lord.\n\n\"Next, My dear Mansoul, in spite of the present reformation taking place among you, I warn you to listen to Me. I am now sure, and you will know for yourselves after this, that Diabolians are still within the town of Mansoul – Diabolians who are foolishly obstinate and harbor irreconcilable enmity and anger. While I am with you, and even more when I am no longer with you, the Diabolians will study, plot, contrive, invent, and attempt to bring you to ruin and to a state far worse than the Egyptian bondage.\n\n\"They are declared friends of Diabolus; therefore, be aware of who is around you. When Incredulity was the Lord Mayor of this town, they lived with their prince in the castle. Since My arrival here, they stay more to the outskirts and along the walls where they've made dens, caves, holes, and strongholds for themselves. Because of their presence, Mansoul, your work will be much more difficult. When you find them, take hold of them, subdue them, and put them to death according to the will of My Father. You will not be able to rid yourselves of them completely, unless you tear down the walls of your town, but I by no means want you to do this. Do you ask, 'What shall we do then?' I tell you: Be diligent and carry through to the end. (See that I command thee to be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed; for I, the LORD thy God, am with thee wherever thou goest. – Joshua 1:9) Observe their holes and search out any place where they hang about, lurk, or live. Overtake them and make no peace with them; and whatever terms of peace they try to offer you, detest and reject it. If you do this, all will be well between you and Me.\n\n\"To help you identify them from those who are natives of Mansoul, I will give you this brief list, which includes names of the topmost Diabolians: Lord Fornication, Lord Adultery, Lord Murder, Lord Anger, Lord Lasciviousness, Lord Deceit, Lord Evil-Eye, Mr. Drunkenness, Mr. Reveling, Mr. Idolatry, Mr. Witchcraft, Mr. Variance, Mr. Emulation, Mr. Wrath, Mr. Strife, Mr. Sedition, and Mr. Heresy. These are some of the primary Diabolians who will seek to overthrow you forever. They lurk within Mansoul. The solution is found within the Law of your King. Look into and study it. You'll learn about the character of their minds and other specific explanations regarding them by which you will be able to recognize them.\n\n\"These Diabolians, My dear Mansoul, if allowed to run free and roam about the town unhindered wherever they like, will eat out your bowels like vipers. Yes, they shall poison your captains, cut the sinews of your soldiers, break the bars and bolts of your gates, and turn your now-flourishing Mansoul into a barren and desolate wilderness and a ruinous heap.\n\n\"For this reason, I give to you Lord Mayor, Lord Willbewill, Mr. Recorder, and all the inhabitants of the town of Mansoul. They will have full power and command to seek out, take hold of all manner of Diabolians, and cause them to be put to death by the cross when and wherever you find them lurking inside or outside the town of Mansoul. So take courage and apprehend these villains wherever you find them. (For they intended evil against thee; they imagined a wicked device, but they did not prevail. Therefore shalt thou separate them; thou shalt make ready thine arrows upon thy strings against the face of them. – Psalm 21:11-12)\n\n\"I told you before that I had placed an established ministry among you. You don't only have these with you,\" as He motioned toward the captains and troops, \"but you also have My first four captains who came against the master and lord of the Diabolians when he was in Mansoul. If they are needed, they can carry the message and preach the good and wholesome doctrine to the entire town both privately and publicly. They will help lead you in the way you should go and will set up a weekly, and if need be, a daily lecture in Mansoul. They will instruct you in useful lessons that, if followed, will do you good in the end. Just be sure you don't release the men whom you have ordered to be crucified.\n\nA Daily Lecture Is Set up in Mansoul\n\n\"Now, I have listed the names of these vagrants and apostates to warn you. Some of them shall creep in among you to deceive you. They may even give the appearance of someone predominant and passionate for religion, but if you don't watch out, they will do you unthinkable harm.\n\n\"As I said, these Diabolians will show themselves in another light than what I have described. (For these false apostles are deceitful workers, transforming themselves into apostles of Christ. – 2 Corinthians 11:13) Therefore, Mansoul, watch and be sober minded. Don't permit yourself to be betrayed.\"\n\nWhen the Prince fashioned the town of Mansoul to this point and instructed them in these useful matters, He scheduled another day for the townsfolk to come together. He desired to bestow upon the town of Mansoul an additional badge of honor – a badge that would distinguish them from all people and languages that dwell in the kingdom of Universe.\n\nNot long before the appointed day arrived, the Prince and His people met in the King's palace where Emmanuel first made a short speech to them. Here He did for them as He had promised. \"My Mansoul,\" He said, \"I am about to let the world know you are Mine and grant you the ability to distinguish those who are Mine from all false traitors who may creep in among you.\"\n\nHe then commanded those who waited upon Him to go and bring white, glistening robes from out of His treasury. \"Bring the white garments I have provided and laid up in store for My Mansoul.\" The garments were carried from His treasury and laid out for all the people to see. He told them to put them on \"according to your size and stature.\" So the people dressed in fine white linen, which was bright and clean.\n\n\"This, My Mansoul, is My attire given to you as the badge by which those who belong to Me can be recognized from the servants of others. I grant this to all who are Mine. Without wearing it, no one is permitted to see My face. Therefore, wear them for My sake, for I am the One who gave them to you, so the world would know you are Mine.\"\n\nCan you imagine how Mansoul shone? She was as bright as the sun, as clear as the moon, and as impressive as an army flying banners. (And the city had no need of the sun neither of the moon to shine in her, for the clarity of God has illuminated it, and the Lamb is its lamp. – Revelation 21:23) The Prince said, \"No prince, monarch, or mighty one of Universe gives this form of dress except Me, and you shall be acknowledged as Mine by this attire.\n\n\"And now that I have dressed you in My fine linens, white and clean, let Me command you concerning them. First, wear them daily so you won't at times appear to others as if you are not Mine.\n\n\"Second, always keep them white; for if they become soiled, it dishonors Me.\n\n\"Third, gird them up and don't let them drag in the dust and dirt of the ground.\n\n\"Fourth, take care you don't misplace them, lest you walk about naked, and they see your shame.\n\n\"Fifth, if you soil or defile them, which I am unwilling for you to do because it will make the prince Diabolus glad, then follow what is written in My Law to restore your standing before Me and My throne. For I will never leave or forsake you but will dwell in this town of Mansoul forever.\" (If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. – 1 John 1:9)\n\nMansoul and its inhabitants became like the signet ring upon Emmanuel's right hand. Nowhere was there a town, city, or other establishment that could compare with Mansoul – a town redeemed from the hand and power of Diabolus! A town which King Shaddai loved and to which He sent Emmanuel to regain from the prince of the infernal cave. Yes, a town which Emmanuel loved to dwell in and which He chose for His royal residence – a town which He fortified for Himself and made strong by the force of His army.\n\nWhat shall I say except that Mansoul now has an excellent Prince, golden captains, men of war, proven weapons, and garments as white as snow. These benefits should not be considered insignificant but great, for the town of Mansoul can consider them valuable and work to improve them for the very purpose for which they are freely given to them.\n\nWhen the Prince completed fashioning the town to show He delighted in the work of His hands, and took pleasure in the good which He had stirred into action for the famous and flourishing Mansoul, He commanded that they set His flag upon the battlements of the castle. And they did so.\n\nTheir obedience garnered benefits – first of which was that He frequently visited. Not a day passed that the elders of Mansoul didn't come to Him in His palace or He to them. They walked and talked together about all the great things He had done and the things He promised to do in the future for the town of Mansoul. These talks were often held with the Lord Mayor, Lord Willbewill, and the honest secondary preacher Mr. Conscience, the Recorder.\n\nOh, how graciously, lovingly, courteously, and tenderly this blessed Prince conveyed His love towards the town of Mansoul! He visited all the streets, gardens, orchards, and other places to be sure the poor received His blessing and approval. He kissed them, and if they were ill, He laid hands on them and made them well. (And Jesus went about all the cities and villages, teaching in their synagogues and preaching the gospel of the kingdom and healing every sickness and every weakness among the people. – Matthew 9:35) He spent time with the captains daily, and sometimes hourly, to encourage them with His presence and graceful words. For you must know that a smile from Him filled them with more vigor, life, and bravery than anything else under heaven did.\n\nThe Prince also feasted with them. Hardly a week passed without a banquet shared between Him and them. If you remember, I mentioned some pages back that they had feasted together; but now it was a more common event. Every day with Mansoul was a feast day now. And the Prince didn't send them away empty, for when they returned to their residences, they had a ring, a gold chain, a bracelet, a white stone, or something else that He had given them. Mansoul was dear to Him now and lovely in His eyes.\n\nSecondly, if the elders and townsmen didn't come to Him, He sent plenty of provisions to them, including meat from Shaddai's court, wine and bread prepared for His Father's table, and such delicacies as to cover their table. Whoever saw this bounty confessed that nothing like it had ever been seen in any kingdom.\n\nThirdly, if Mansoul didn't visit Him as often as He desired, He walked out to them, knocked at their doors, and asked to come in so a friendship of goodwill could be maintained between them and Him. They commonly opened the door and invited Him in, if they were home, and with the time spent together, He renewed His love and confirmed it with new tokens and signs of continued favor.\n\nIt was truly an amazing sight to see; in the very place where Diabolus had once made his home and entertained his Diabolians, almost to the total destruction of Mansoul, the Prince of princes was now sitting, eating, and drinking with them. And while He did so, His mighty captains, men of war, trumpeters, and the singing men and singing women of His Father all stood round to wait upon them. Mansoul's cup was filled to overflowing with conduits of sweet wine. She ate the finest wheat and drank milk and honey out of the rock. (Thou shalt prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; thou hast anointed my head with oil; my cup is running over. – Psalm 23:5) And now Mansoul said, \"How great is His goodness, for since I found favor in His eyes, how honorable have I been!\"\n\nThe blessed Prince also ordained a new officer in the town, a pleasant person by the name of Mr. God's-Peace. He set this man over Lord Willbewill, Lord Mayor, Mr. Recorder, the secondary preacher, Mr. Mind, and over all the native Mansoulians. But Mr. God's-Peace wasn't a native of Mansoul, for he came with Prince Emmanuel from Shaddai's court and was a well-known acquaintance of Captain Credence and Captain Good-Hope. Some said they were related, and I admit I hold this opinion too.\n\nThis man was made governor of the town in general, especially over the castle, and Captain Credence was to help him. I couldn't help but notice that as long as all things in Mansoul went as this sweet-natured gentleman directed, the town remained most prosperous and had a secure possession of good. They had no quarrels, no angry scolding, no meddling, or unfaithful goings-on in all the town of Mansoul. Every man in Mansoul paid close attention to his own service. The nobility, officers, and soldiers all observed their order. And the women and children of the town followed their duties joyfully and sang as they worked from morning until night. Throughout the town of Mansoul, nothing was found but harmony, quietness, joy, and health. And this lasted all that summer.\n\nChapter 19\n\nDeceived by Carnal-Security\n\nBut after the Prince bestowed all this mercy, a man in the town of Mansoul by the name of Mr. Carnal-Security brought Mansoul into great and severe slavery and bondage. Let me offer you a brief account about him and his doings to give you a better understanding of what happened.\n\nWhen Diabolus first took possession of the town of Mansoul, he brought with him a great number of Diabolians. These men all shared in his sinful condition, and among them was a man by the name of Mr. Self-Conceit. (He that trusts in his own heart is a fool. – Proverbs 28:26a) He was a notable man with as bold an attitude as any who possessed the town of Mansoul in those days. Diabolus recognized that this man was active and bold and used him in many wretched plans, which he happened to manage better than most who came with him from the dens.\n\nThis pleased Diabolus, his lord, very much. Therefore, since he found him suited for his purposes, he preferred him over the others and ranked him next to the great Lord Willbewill. Now Lord Willbewill was pleased with him and his achievements in those days, so he gave him his daughter, the Lady Fear-Nothing, as his wife. (God shall hear and bring them down, even he that abides from of old. Because they do not change, nor do they fear God. – Psalm 55:19) Together, Lady Fear-Nothing and Mr. Self-Conceit conceived a child who grew to be this gentleman, Mr. Carnal-Security. (Behold, this is the man that did not make God his strength, but trusted in the abundance of his riches and strengthened himself in his wickedness. – Psalm 52:7)\n\nWith these kinds of relationships, it was hard in cases like this to determine who were natives of Mansoul and who were not. For Mr. Carnal-Security sprang from Lord Willbewill on his mother's side, but his father was a Diabolian by nature.\n\nWell, Carnal-Security tended to take after his father and mother. He proved to be conceited, feared nothing, and was a very busy man. No news or doctrine, no changes or even talk of changes circulated about in Mansoul unless Carnal-Security was at the beginning or end of it. To be sure he controlled things, he shunned those whom he deemed the weakest, and always stood with those moving in his direction whom he supposed to be the strongest.\n\nNow when the mighty Shaddai and Emmanuel, His Son, made war upon Mansoul to take it, this Carnal-Security was in town at that time. As a great doer among the people, he encouraged them in their rebellion. He took advantage of their good nature and encouraged them to harden themselves in resisting the King's forces. When he saw the town of Mansoul was taken and converted to the purposes of the glorious Prince Emmanuel, and then saw what became of Diabolus when he was uprooted and forced to leave the castle amid much contempt and scorn, he slyly made a turnabout. He pretended he would serve the Prince against His foes in the same way that he had served Diabolus.\n\nAfter acquiring a smattering of Emmanuel's things, being the bold sort, he ventured amid the townsmen and attempted to strike up a chat among them. He knew the power and strength of the town of Mansoul was great, and he knew it would please the people if he talked up their might and glory. Therefore, he began his tale by talking about the power and strength of Mansoul. He declared it to be impregnable and talked about the greatness of their captains, their slings, and their rams, and boasted about their fortifications and strongholds. Lastly, he mentioned the assurances they had from their Prince that Mansoul would be happy forever. (Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will rest in the house of the LORD for ever. – Psalm 23:6) When he saw that some of the men of the town were entertained and interested in his discourse, he made it his business to walk from street to street, house to house, and man to man to talk. Finally, he led Mansoul while playing the flute as they danced. It felt good and right, and as they danced, they grew almost as carnally secure as he was. And this was only the beginning, for they moved on from talking to feasting and from feasting to amusing themselves and making merry; so they followed their appetites in these and other matters.\n\nEmmanuel was still in the town of Mansoul, and He observed their behavior. Lord Mayor, Lord Willbewill, and Mr. Recorder were also captivated with the words of this idle-talking Diabolian gentleman. (For there are many insubordinate and vain talkers and deceivers of souls. – Titus 1:10) But they forgot their Prince had warned them to take care not to be misled or deluded with any Diabolian sly trick.\n\nHe had told them the security of the now-flourishing town of Mansoul didn't lie so much in her present fortifications and strength, but in how she used what she had, that might oblige her Emmanuel to abide within her castle. For the true doctrine of Emmanuel was that the town of Mansoul should take care not to forget His Father's love and His love and that they should humbly continue in that love.\n\nWhat they were doing now was not the way to do it. They had fallen in love with one of the Diabolians and were being led by the nose by such a one as Mr. Carnal-Security. They should have listened to their Prince and responded in fear and love. They should have stoned this naughty pack of Diabolian followers to death and taken care to walk in the ways of their Prince. For if they had done so, they would be enjoying peace like a river, and their righteousness would be like the waves of the sea. (O that thou would look unto my commandments! Then thy peace would be as a river and thy righteousness as the waves of the sea. – Isaiah 48:18)\n\nNow it was apparent to Emmanuel that the policy of Carnal-Security chilled the hearts of the men of Mansoul and diminished their practical love for Him. He mourned for them and grieved their condition with the Secretary, as He said, \"Oh, that My people had listened to me and Mansoul had walked in My ways! I would have sustained them with the finest of wheat and with honey out of the rock.\" With this done, He said in his heart, \"I will return to the court – to My place, until Mansoul considers what they have done and acknowledges their offense.\"\n\nAnd He returned to his Father's court, because Mansoul's relationship with Him reflected that it had waned in a number of ways:\n\n  1. They broke fellowship with Him and no longer visited Him or came to His royal palace.\n  2. They didn't regard or take notice that He no longer came to visit them.\n  3. Though He continued to hold love feasts between their Prince and them as was the custom, they neglected to come to them or be delighted with them.\n  4. They no longer waited for His guidance but became headstrong. They considered themselves strong and invincible and thought Mansoul secure. They thought Mansoul was beyond all reach of the enemy and her state would be unalterable forever.\n\nNow, as was said, Emmanuel noticed that through Mr. Carnal-Security's craftiness, the town of Mansoul no longer depended upon Him or His Father, and so He put in place what was bestowed upon it. First, He mourned their state, then He implemented measures to make them understand the way they were following was dangerous.\n\nHe sent the Lord High Secretary to forbid them to follow such ways, but twice when the Secretary came to them, He found them at dinner in Carnal-Security's parlor satiating their appetites with his delights. He recognized they weren't willing to reason about matters concerning their good. It grieved Him and He went His way. When He told Prince Emmanuel what had transpired, He took offense and was grieved too. So He made prearrangements to return to his Father's court. (And the LORD said, My spirit shall not always strive with man, for certainly he is flesh. – Genesis 6:3)\n\nEven while He was still with them in Mansoul, He stayed secluded and more withdrawn than before. Mansoul no longer perceived His speech to be as pleasant and familiar when He came into their company. Plus, He no longer sent dainty bits from His table, as He had been accustomed to doing in the past. If they came to His gate, they might knock once or twice, but He didn't seem to regard them, whereas in the past, He would run to meet them halfway at the sound of their approach, invite them in, and hold them close. Now when they came to visit Him, they found He wasn't so easily spoken with as in the past.\n\nFor now, Emmanuel tolerated it and sought to make them reflect on all that had transpired in hopes they would return to Him with their hearts. But, alas! They didn't consider or regard His ways, because the changes in their relationship with Him didn't bother them. They didn't really think about the Prince's former favors. As a result, He withdrew, first from His palace, then He moved to the gate of the town, and finally He moved away from Mansoul, waiting for them to acknowledge their offense and earnestly seek His face. Mr. God's-Peace also laid down his commission and for the time being no longer exerted His influence in the town of Mansoul.\n\nThus, Mansoul walked contrary to His ways and He, by way of reprisal, walked in an opposite direction from them. (Can two walk together except they be agreed? – Amos 3:3) But unfortunately, by this time they were hardened, obstinate, and set in their ways, because they had swallowed so much of Carnal-Security's doctrine. So when their Prince departed, it didn't bother them in the least. They didn't even think of Him once He was gone, so His absence didn't grieve them in even a little.\n\nEmmanuel Departs Mansoul\n\nPart 2\n\nChapter 20\n\nGodly-Fear Speaks Out\n\nNow, a day arrived when this old gentleman, Carnal-Security, prepared a feast for the town of Mansoul. At that time Mr. Godly-Fear was in the town. (The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom. – Psalm 111:10a) In times past, his presence was requested, but now he was asked to participate very little. Old Carnal-Security had a plan in mind. If possible, his idea was to mislead this man and deceive him as he had all the rest, so he invited Godly-Fear to the feast with his neighbors. When all the preparations had been made, Godly-Fear arrived with the rest of the guests. All were seated at the table and served food and drink. They feasted and made merry, all except for this one man. Godly-Fear sat like a stranger among the crowd. He didn't eat or make merry. When Carnal-Security saw this, he went over to talk with the man.\n\nHe said, \"Mr. Godly-Fear, are you not well? You seem to be mentally or physically ill, or perhaps both. I have a medicine crafted by Mr. Forget-Good, which gives life and cheerfulness to a person. It raises the spirits of one who is weak and depressed. Try a sip, for I hope it will make you merry and carefree and more fit as a feasting companion to us.\"\n\nGodly-Fear discreetly replied, \"Sir, I thank you for all things courteous and civil, but for your cordial I have no desire to imbibe. However, I do have a word for the natives of Mansoul: you, the elders and important citizens of Mansoul, it is strange to see you so lively and merry, when the town of Mansoul is in such a miserable situation.\"\n\nCarnal-Security tried to dismiss Godly-Fear's statement. \"I believe you need sleep. I offer you a comfortable room. Please, go lie down and take a nap, and in the meantime, we will be merry.\"\n\nGodly-Fear looked directly at Carnal-Security and said, \"Sir, if you had an honest heart, you couldn't do what you have done and continue to do.\"\n\n\"Why not?\" Carnal-Security shrugged.\n\n\"Don't interrupt me,\" Godly-Fear scolded. \"It's true the town of Mansoul was strong, and with a conditional stipulation that affects the agreement with Shaddai, it was impregnable. But you townsmen have weakened our famous town. Mansoul now lies accountable to its enemies. It's not the time to either flatter or be silent.\" Godly-Fear gestured toward Carnal-Security. \"You have stripped Mansoul and driven her glory from her. You've pulled down her towers, broken down her gates, and rendered the security of her locks and bars useless.\n\n\"To make it clear what I mean, from the time you, sir, and your lords of Mansoul have grown so great, the Strength of Mansoul has been offended. He has risen and is gone. If anyone wants to question the truth of my words, I ask this: Where is the Prince Emmanuel? When's the last time a man or woman in Mansoul saw Him? When did you last hear from Him or taste any of His dainty bits? You now feast with this Diabolian monster, but he is not your Prince. (But these, ... shall utterly perish in their own corruption, ... These are spots and blemishes, who eat together with you, while at the same time they revel in their deceit, ... who forsaking the right way have erred. – 2 Peter 2:12-15a)\n\n\"If you had paid attention to enemies outside your walls to make sure they did not breach our walls, they could not have made a prey of you. But since you have sinned against your Prince, your enemies are now within and have been too hard for you.\"\n\nCarnal-Security waved a dismissive hand toward Godly-Fear. \"Bah! Godly-Fear, will you never shake off your fearfulness and lack of courage? Are you afraid of being dumfounded? Who has hurt you?\" He tipped his head to the side, feigning sincerity. \"Look, I'm on your side, but you doubt, while I am confident.\" He shrugged with his palms toward the ceiling. \"Besides, is this a time to be sad? A feast is made for laughter. So why, to your shame and our trouble, do you break into such depressing language, when you should be eating, drinking, and being merry?\"\n\nGodly-Fear at Carnal Security's Feast\n\nGodly-Fear let out a long sigh. \"I am sad because Emmanuel has gone from Mansoul. Do you hear me? I said He is gone, and you, sir, are the man who drove Him away. He is gone without so much as giving notice to the nobles of Mansoul that He was leaving. If that's not a sign of His anger, then I'm not familiar with godly nature.\n\n\"And now, my lords and gentlemen, for I'm still speaking to you, your gradual dropping away from fellowship with Him provoked Him to slowly depart from you. He's been doing so for some time. Perhaps if you had noticed, had come to your senses, and had renewed your standing with Him by humbling yourselves ....\" Sadness glistened in Godly-Fear's eyes. \"When He saw no one noticed these dreadful early stages of His anger and judgment, nor took them to heart, He went away from this place. I saw this with my own eyes.\n\n\"Therefore, now, while you boast, your Strength is gone. You're like the man who lost his shoulder-length locks while he slept, and with them his strength. (And she caused him to sleep upon her knees; and she called for a man, and she caused him to shave off the seven locks of his head; and she began to afflict him, and his strength went from him. – Judges 16:19) You may, with this lord of your feast, shake yourselves awake and think you can do everything as you did before. However, He has departed from you, and without Him you can do nothing, so turn your feast into moaning and your laughter into weeping.\"\n\nThese words startled the secondary preacher, Mr. Conscience, who was the old Recorder of Mansoul. He said, \"My brothers, I'm afraid what Godly-Fear tells us is true. I, for my part, haven't seen my Prince for a long time. I can't even remember the last time. I can't answer Godly-Fear's question. I'm afraid all is dire with Mansoul.\"\n\nGodly-Fear agreed. \"I know you won't find Him in Mansoul, for He has gone because of the elders' inattention and lack of wisdom in their actions, for they rewarded His grace with intolerable unkindness.\"\n\nMr. Conscience grew pale and looked ready to fall down dead at the table – and he wasn't the only one. All those at the feast, except for Carnal-Security, began to turn an ashen hue. Now Carnal-Security disliked such depressing goings-on and withdrew into a room behind the feasting hall. Those who had heard Godly-Fear speak recovered a little and together agreed to believe what he had said. They consulted as to how best to act, both in regard to the man of the house for drawing them into evil and also to regain Emmanuel's love.\n\nAs they said this, they recalled what their Prince had told them to do when such false prophets arose among them to delude the town of Mansoul. Under the conviction of those words burning within them, they concluded Carnal-Security was a false prophet and thus burned his house down upon him with fire, for he was a Diabolian by nature. (But the prophet which shall presume to speak a word in my name which I have not commanded him to speak or that shall speak in the name of other gods, even that prophet shall die. – Deuteronomy 18:20)\n\nThen they decided to look for Emmanuel their Prince. They sought Him but did not find Him. This confirmed the truth of what Godly-Fear had said, and it caused them to judge themselves and reflect upon the vile and ungodly things they had done. They realized that it was because of them that their Prince had left.\n\nThey agreed to go see the Lord Secretary, whom they had refused to hear from and whom they had grieved with their actions. He was a seer, and they wanted to ask Him if He could tell them where Emmanuel was and how they might send a petition to Him. But the Lord Secretary wouldn't admit them to discuss this matter, nor would He allow them to enter His royal abode. He didn't even show His face to them, inform them, or instruct them.\n\nGloomy clouds hung like a thick blanket of darkness upon Mansoul, and they saw they had been foolish. For the first time, they perceived the wretched damage Carnal-Security's companionship, swaggering words, and continual idle chatter had brought upon poor Mansoul. They thought about what further cost they would have to pay. With these thoughts milling about in their minds, the men of the town once again looked at Godly-Fear as one of good reputation; they were ready to consider him a prophet.\n\nWhen the Sabbath day came, they went to hear their secondary preacher, Mr. Conscience. His sermon was fearsomely filled with thunder and lightning! His text was found in the book of the prophet Jonah: Those that observe lying vanities forsake his mercy (Jonah 2:8). He preached with such power and authority that the countenance of the people fell that day. The message was unlike what they usually heard or saw. By the time the sermon concluded, the people were scarcely able to go to their homes or to work the following week. The sermon made such an impact on them that they didn't know what to do.\n\nIn the sermon, Mr. Conscience didn't only show Mansoul their sin, but he also trembled before them because of the sense of his own sin. So he cried out for himself, as he preached to them, \"Unhappy man that I am, that I should do so wicked a thing! That I, a preacher whom the Prince set up to teach Mansoul His Law, should myself live senselessly and without reason and be one of the first found in transgression! This transgression occurred within my precincts. I should have cried out against the wickedness, but I let Mansoul wallow in it, until it drove Emmanuel from its borders!\" He also charged all the lords and nobility of Mansoul with these same things.\n\nAbout this time, a great sickness fell upon the town of Mansoul and most of the inhabitants were afflicted. This included the captains and men of war too. They languished in this condition for a long time. It was serious enough that if an invasion took place, nothing of consequence could be done by either the townsmen or the field officers. The faces of people everywhere were pale and their hands weak. With shaky knees, men staggered on the streets of Mansoul amid groans and pants. And in the distance, more were ready to faint. (Therefore I have also made thee weak in smiting thee, in making thee desolate because of thy sins. Thou shalt eat, but not be satisfied. – Micah 6:13-14a)\n\nThey still wore the garments Emmanuel had given them, but they were in a sorry state. Some had holes, and others were torn, but all were in a nasty condition. Some no longer fit and hung so loosely on them that if they got snagged upon a bush, they would be plucked from them and leave them naked.\n\nAfter they spent some time in this sad, bleak condition, the secondary preacher, Mr. Conscience, called for a day of fasting and prompted the people to humble themselves for being so wicked against the great Shaddai and His Son. And he desired that Captain Boanerges would preach, and he agreed to do it.\n\nWhen the day arrived, his message was based upon this text: \"Cut it down; why should it even waste the soil?\" (And He spoke this parable: A certain man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard, and he came and sought fruit upon it and found none. Then he said unto the dresser of his vineyard, Behold, these three years I come seeking fruit on this fig tree and find none; cut it down; why does it cumber the ground? – Luke 13:6-7)\n\nHe delivered a vivacious sermon, which first showed his reason for choosing this text, namely, that the fig tree was barren. Then he followed this by showing what else was contained in the text – specifically, a choice between repentance or utter desolation. He showed them it was by Shaddai's authority that this sentence was pronounced. Lastly, he presented reasons that supported his point, and then he concluded his sermon.\n\nWhat he had to say to Mansoul was relevant in the application so much that poor Mansoul trembled. For this sermon, as well as the former sermon, worked upon the hearts of the men of Mansoul. It helped to keep those awake who were roused by the prior preaching, and as a result, sorrow, mourning, and woe could be heard throughout the whole town.\n\nAfter the sermon, the town gathered to talk about the best thing they could do. Mr. Conscience spoke up and said, \"I will do nothing based on my own decisions without talking it over with my neighbor Godly-Fear. For he provided more understanding of the mind of our Prince than we did, and I don't know for sure, but I think he may have the same insight now, as we are turning again to moral goodness.\"\n\nSo they sent for Godly-Fear and he appeared immediately. Upon his arrival, they made known their desire for him to reveal his feelings about what was best for them to do.\n\nThe old gentleman answered directly. \"It is my opinion that this town of Mansoul should, in this day of her distress, draw up and send a humble petition to their offended Prince Emmanuel, so that He, in His favor and grace, will turn again to you and not stay angry forever.\" (For the humble shall not always be forgotten: the hope of the poor shall not perish for ever. – Psalm 9:18)\n\nWhen the townsmen heard this, they agreed as one to his advice and drew up their request. Then they had to decide who should carry it to the Prince; they agreed to send it by the hand of the Lord Mayor Understanding, and he accepted the opportunity to serve in this way. He committed himself to his journey, departed, and arrived at the gate of the court of Shaddai, where Emmanuel the Prince of Mansoul had gone. But the gate was shut, and a vigilant guard kept watch there, so the petitioner was forced to stand outside the gate for a great while. He made it known to some that he desired the Prince be told who stood at the gate and what his business was. Finally, someone agreed to do so and went in and told Shaddai and Emmanuel, His Son, that the Lord Mayor of the town of Mansoul stood outside the gate of the King's court, desiring to be admitted into the presence of the Prince, the King's Son.\n\nThe Lord Mayor Waiting at the Gate\n\nThe messenger explained the reason for the Lord Mayor's errand, both to the King and to His Son Emmanuel. However, the Prince would not come to the gate or agree that the gate should be opened to him. Instead, He sent this answer: \"They have turned their back to Me and not their face, and now in the time of their trouble, they say to Me, 'Arise and save us.' Why don't they go to Mr. Carnal-Security, as they did when they turned from Me, and make him their leader, their lord, and their protection now in their trouble? In their prosperity, they went astray. Why is it that in their trouble they visit Me?\"\n\nWith this answer the Lord Mayor's face turned a dark purple, for it not only troubled and perplexed him but also caused him to grieve. He saw again the consequences of being familiar with Diabolians, such as Mr. Carnal-Security.\n\nWhen he looked toward the court, he understood little help could be expected for himself or his friends in Mansoul. He humbly struck his breast and returned, weeping and grieving over the deplorable state of Mansoul the entire way.\n\nWhen he came within sight of the town, the elders and leading people of Mansoul went out at the gate to greet him and learn how he fared at court.\n\nWith a downcast countenance, he told them his tale, and they all cried out, mourned, and wept at the news. They responded with humility by throwing ashes and dust upon their heads and dressing their loins in sackcloth. In this manner, they went crying throughout the town of Mansoul. (For this, gird yourselves with sackcloth; lament and howl; for the fierce anger of the LORD is not turned back from us. – Jeremiah 4:8) When the rest of the townsfolk saw this, they too mourned and wept. And thus it was a day of rebuke, trouble, and anguish for the town of Mansoul, a day of great distress.\n\nAfter some time, when they had somewhat renounced their ways, they came together to consult again about the best thing for them to do. They asked advice, as they did before, from the reverend Godly-Fear, who told them, \"There is no way better than to do as you did before.\" He went on to tell them they should not be discouraged at all by the treatment they met with at court previously, even if several of their petitions should be answered with nothing but silence or a reprimand. \"For it is the way of the wise Shaddai to make men wait and exercise patience. And it should be the way of those who fall short to be willing to wait for His timing.\" (Behold, the eye of the LORD is upon those that fear him, upon those that wait for his mercy. – Psalm 33:18)\n\nThey took courage from his words and sent petitions again and again, and again, and again. Not a day or hour went by in Mansoul in which a man didn't meet another upon the road who was sounding the horn from Mansoul to the court of the King Shaddai and delivering letters petitioning the Prince's return to Mansoul. Yes, the road filled with messengers meeting in their comings and goings. Some traveled from the court and some from Mansoul. All this was the work of the miserable town of Mansoul during that long, harsh, cold, and tedious winter.\n\nMessengers Going to and from Mansoul\n\nChapter 21\n\nDiabolus's Plan\n\nNow, you may remember I told you that after Emmanuel had taken Mansoul and rebuilt the town, many of the old Diabolians remained lurking about in several places. Some of them had arrived with the tyrant when he invaded and took over the town; others were the result of illegal relationships resulting in unlawful breeding and births. And the holes and dens where they lurked were in, under, and around the wall of the town. Some of the names of these Diabolians are Lord Fornication, Lord Adultery, Lord Murder, Lord Anger, Lord Lasciviousness, Lord Deceit, Lord Evil-Eye, Lord Blasphemy, and that horrible villain, the old and dangerous Lord Covetousness. (Now the works of the flesh are manifest, which are these: Adultery, fornication, uncleanness, lasciviousness, idolatry, witchcraft, hatred, variance, emulations, wrath, strife, seditions, heresies, envyings, murders, drunkenness, revellings, and such like; which I denounce, as I have also told you in time past that those who do such things shall not inherit the kingdom of God. – Galatians 5:19-21) These, as I told you, still resided in the town of Mansoul, even after Emmanuel had driven their prince Diabolus out of the castle.\n\nThe good Prince had given Lord Willbewill and the whole town of Mansoul an order to seek, take, secure, and destroy these and all other Diabolians they could lay hands on, because by nature they were enemies of the Prince. In fact, they were among the very ones who sought to ruin the blessed town of Mansoul.\n\nHowever, the town didn't pursue this warrant. They neglected to follow the order and didn't work at apprehending, securing, or destroying these Diabolians. Therefore, these villains took courage and, little by little, poked their heads out from their hiding places. They gradually showed themselves to the inhabitants of the town. And as I was told, some of the men of Mansoul grew too familiar with some of them – to the detriment of the town.\n\nWhen these Diabolian lords who were left in the town realized Mansoul's sinning had offended Emmanuel their Prince, and He had withdrawn from them and was gone, they plotted the ruin of Mansoul. So at a set time, they met at the den of Mr. Mischief, who was also a Diabolian. (These are the men that devise mischief and give wicked counsel in this city. – Ezekiel 11:2b) They talked about how they might deliver Mansoul into the hands of Diabolus again.\n\nAs the discussion progressed, some advised one way and some another, with every man offering an opinion according to his own liking. Lord Lasciviousness proposed an idea suggesting it might be best for some of the Diabolians in Mansoul to offer themselves as servants to some of the natives of the town. He said, \"For if they do this and Mansoul accepts them, they may make the taking of the town easier than it would be otherwise for us and for Diabolus our lord.\"\n\nBut Lord Murder stood to present his own thoughts on the subject. \"This might not work at this time, because Mansoul is currently eager to reconcile herself to her Lord again, because of what happened with our friend, Carnal-Security. The town was seduced by deceit once already and made to offend her Prince. How shall she reconcile herself except by the heads of these men? We know they have an order to capture and slay us wherever they find us. Therefore, let's be wise as foxes. If we are dead, we can't hurt them, but while we live, we may bring them harm.\"\n\nSo once they had tossed the matter back and forth for a time, they agreed a letter should be sent to Diabolus in their name. They would explain the current state of the town of Mansoul and how it had fallen under the displeasure of their Prince. \"We can also let him know our intentions and ask his advice as to how we should proceed.\"\n\nSo a letter was drafted and this is what it said:\n\n\"To our great lord, the prince Diabolus, who dwells below in the infernal cave:\n\n\"O great father and mighty prince Diabolus, we, the true Diabolians who still remain in the rebellious town of Mansoul, having received our existence from you and our nourishment from your hands, cannot sit back and endure watching without doing anything as you are blamed, disgraced, and criticized by the inhabitants of this town, and your long absence is to our disadvantage.\n\n\"The reason we are writing to our lord is that we have hope this town may be inhabited by you once again. Mansoul has waned from its relationship with Prince Emmanuel so much that He has departed from them. And even though they have sent petitions over and over again, asking Him to return, until now their petitions have accomplished nothing. At this point, they haven't received a single good word from Him. (They cried out, but there was no one to save them: even unto the LORD, but he did not answer them. – Psalm 18:41)\n\n\"Recently, a great sickness and fainting has spread among them and continues even now. This sickness isn't limited to the poor of the town but has even befallen the lords, captains, and important nobility. We who are Diabolians by nature remain well, lively, and strong, so we are writing to let you know Mansoul lies vulnerable to your power as a result of their transgression against Shaddai's Law. We believe now is the time for you to act. Your cunning, combined with the sly craftiness of the rest of the princes with you, makes it the perfect opportunity to attempt to take Mansoul again. We await your word in this matter; in the meantime, we shall do all within our power to be ready to deliver it into your hand.\n\n\"If you don't think what we have said meets with what you believe is the best course of action, send us your thoughts in a few words. We are all ready to follow your counsel, even if it puts our lives in peril or costs us whatever else we possess.\n\n\"This petition is imparted by our hands on the day and date written above. It was drawn up after close consultation at the house of Mr. Mischief, who is still alive and keeps his residence in our desirable town of Mansoul.\"\n\nThe Diabolians chose Mr. Profane to carry their message. When he arrived with the letter at Hell-gate Hill, he knocked at the brass gates and awaited entrance. Cerberus, the monstrous hound of Hades that served as the porter and keeper of that gate, opened to him. Profane stepped through the gate with the letter from the Diabolians who lived in Mansoul and presented it to Diabolus his lord.\n\n\"Greetings, my lord, from Mansoul,\" Profane said as he delivered the letter into Diabolus's hand. \"This letter is from our trusted friends in Mansoul.\"\n\nProfane at the Gate of the Pit\n\nA rowdy crowd made up of scoundrels gathered from the dens of Beelzebub, Lucifer, and Apollyon to hear the news from Mansoul. The letter was opened and read while Cerberus stood by. When the letter had been read in the hearing of those present, news of what it said spread into all the corners of the den, and a command was given that the dead man's bell should be rung in celebration. So the bell rang out, and the princes rejoiced that Mansoul was likely to come to ruin. Now, the clapper of the bell rang this out: \"The town of Mansoul is coming to dwell with us! Make room for the town of Mansoul!\" This bell rang out this message nonstop, and they all hoped to have Mansoul again.\n\nWhen they completed this horrible celebration, they came together to figure out how to answer their friends in Mansoul. Some advised one thing and some another. Finally, because the business required a swift response and they judged Diabolus the lord most particularly suited for making this choice, they left the whole decision to their prince. So he drew up a letter as he thought fit and sent his response by the hand of the same Mr. Profane to the Diabolians who lived in Mansoul.\n\nThis is what it said:\n\n\"To our offspring, the high and mighty Diabolians who still live in the town of Mansoul, Diabolus, the great prince of Mansoul, wishes a prosperous outcome to the many brave enterprises, conspiracies, and plans you have in your hearts to perform against Mansoul because of your love and respect for our honor.\n\n\"Beloved children and disciples, my Lord Fornication, Lord Adultery, and the rest, we received and welcomed your letter delivered by the hand of our trusted Mr. Profane here in our desolate den. It is with utmost joy and satisfaction that we read your message and in response rang our bell with gladness. In fact, we rejoiced as much as we could, when we realized we still had friends in Mansoul who sought our honor and revenge in the ruin of the town of Mansoul. We rejoiced to hear Mansoul is in a fallen condition, and they have offended their Prince; He is gone. Their sickness pleases us, and we are delighted to hear of your health, might, and strength. We cannot put into words how glad we would be to get this town into our clutches again, and we shall not spare our cleverness, cunning, craft, or hellish ingenuity in order to bring about our desired conclusion.\n\n\"And consider these comforting words, dear offspring. We shall again surprise Mansoul and take it. We will attempt to put all your enemies to the sword and will promote you to be the great lords and captains of the place. If we take Mansoul again, you will no longer need to fear being cast out ever again, for this time we will come with more strength and hold fast and control more than we did the first time. It is the Law of that Prince Emmanuel to whom they claim to belong that if we conquer them a second time, then they shall be ours forever.\n\n\"We ask that you, our trusted Diabolians, attempt to weaken Mansoul more and more. Pry into their everyday dealings. Endeavour to spy out their weakness. Then send us word about what you find and how you think we have the best chance to recover the town – whether by persuasion to live a vain and loose life, by tempting them to doubt and despair, or by blowing up the town with the gunpowder of pride and self-conceit.\n\n\"My brave Diabolians and true sons of the pit, be ready to make a hideous assault from within Mansoul at the time when we are ready to storm Mansoul from outside the walls. Make haste in your preparations. In our interests to possess Mansoul, we will tap into the maximum power of the gates of Hades. Your great Diabolus, Mansoul's enemy, and he who trembles when he thinks of judgment to come closes this letter, wishing all the blessings of the pit be upon you.\n\n\"This letter is given by the mutual consent of all the princes of darkness at the pit's mouth to be sent by the hand of Mr. Profane to the remaining force and power still in Mansoul from me, Diabolus.\"\n\nThis letter was sent from the dark dungeon of Diabolus to the Diabolians who still lived in Mansoul and inhabited the wall. It was delivered by the hand of Profane, and when he returned to Mansoul, he went straight to the house of Mr. Mischief, as this was the place where the schemers met. It was here the conclave awaited his arrival.\n\nWhen they saw their messenger approach the house safe and sound, they were filled with gladness. Then he presented them with the letter he carried from Diabolus. They opened it eagerly and read it. The contents boosted their morale and filled them with delight. They asked about the welfare of their Lord Diabolus, Lucifer, and Beelzebub; they asked how the rest of their friends from the den fared.\n\nMr. Profane stood tall and proud, quite enjoying all the attention his role in the plan provided. He said, \"Well, my lords. They are well – at least as well as can be expected in that place.\" His thin lips stretched into a smile that looked more like a sneer. \"They rang the bell for joy after the reading of your letter,\" Profane pointed to the open letter in their hands, \"as you can see by this letter.\"\n\nAnd it was true. When they read their letter, it encouraged them in their work, and they plotted a Diabolian strategy for how they might complete their plan against Mansoul. \"Don't let it be known,\" one said.\n\nThe others agreed. \"Yes, we need to be sure Mansoul is not informed regarding the plans we have against it.\" So the first thing they agreed upon was to keep all their plans as hidden as possible from Mansoul.\n\nThen they discussed what tactics they should use to bring about the ruin and overthrow of Mansoul. Again, each had his own opinion, but Mr. Deceit stood up and said, \"My just Diabolian friends, if we look to the letter we have received, our lords and the high ones of the deep dungeon have proposed three ways by which we may accomplish this task.\n\n\"First we need to decide if it is best for us to seek its ruin by making Mansoul careless and vain. The second option they offered was to drive Mansoul to doubt and despair, and the third was to endeavor to blow it up by the gunpowder of pride and self-conceit.\"\n\nDeceit hooked his thumbs around the straps holding up his trousers and rocked back and forth from heel to toe. \"Now if we tempt them to pride, that may accomplish something.\" (Pride shall certainly give birth to contention. – Proverbs 13:10a) A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. \"And if we tempt them to excessive indulgence because of their freedom and instill contempt against the restraints of the Law regarding morality and good behavior, that may help. (But each one is tempted, when they are drawn away of their own lust and enticed. – James 1:14) But, in my mind,\" he stopped rocking and placed his long fingers flat on the table around which they sat. He look at each of the Diabolians and said, \"If we could drive them into desperation, that would hit the nail on the head. For that would cause them to question the truth of the love of the heart of their Prince towards them.\" His thin lips stretched into a toothy smile. \"And that will disgust Him. If it works as well as I think it will, it shall put a stop to those petitions they are sending to Him. Say good-bye to their earnest requests for help and supplies.\" Deceit straightened and hooked his thumbs about the straps again. \"The natural conclusion will be to do nothing, for in their eyes it shall serve no purpose.\" All the Diabolians nodded and gave their unanimous consent to Deceit's plan.\n\nAs excited as they were with this plan, it still raised the question of how they could bring it to pass. Deceit rubbed his hands together and said, \"This might be the best way to do it.\" He leaned in close and everyone drew near to listen carefully. \"Let all of our friends who are willing to risk their lives for promoting this cause, disguise themselves. Let them alter how they dress, change their names, and visit the market, pretending to be from a far-off country. While in the marketplace, let them offer themselves as servants to the famous town of Mansoul.\n\n\"Once they are accepted in this role, let them pretend to help and support their masters, but once Mansoul hires them, they can corrupt and defile the entire town a little at a time. And this will further offend her Prince and He shall spew them out of His mouth. (But I fear that as the serpent deceived Eve through his craftiness, so your senses should be corrupted in some way, and ye should fall from the simplicity that is in the Christ. – 2 Corinthians 11:3)\n\n\"And when this is done, they'll become easy prey for our prince Diabolus.\" Deceit nodded with glee and the others agreed. \"Yes, they shall fall into the mouth of the buyer.\" The specifics of this plan were no sooner proposed than they became accepted by all the Diabolians who were ready to engage in this subtle venture. However, they decided it wasn't a task fit for all to take part in. Therefore, they chose three: Lord Covetousness, Lord Lasciviousness, and Lord Anger. Lord Covetousness called himself by the name of Prudent-Thrifty. Lord Lasciviousness called himself Harmless-Mirth, and Lord Anger called himself Good-Zeal.\n\nOn market day, these three impudent fellows came into the marketplace, dressed in sheep's clothing, which was as white as the white robes of the men of Mansoul. (Keep yourselves also from the false prophets, who come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly they are ravening wolves. – Matthew 7:15) These men could speak the language of Mansoul well, and when they arrived in the marketplace, they offered to lease their services to the townsmen. In a short time, their offers were accepted, because they asked for low wages and promised to do their masters great service.\n\nMr. Mind hired Prudent-Thrifty (Covetousness), and Mr. Godly-Fear hired Good-Zeal (Anger), while Harmless-Mirth (Lasciviousness) had a little more trouble being hired, because the town of Mansoul was observing Lent. However, when Lent was almost over, the Lord Willbewill hired Harmless-Mirth to wait on him as his personal servant and lackey.\n\nSo all three villains now had masters. The plan progressed when they were invited into the houses of the men of Mansoul. They wasted no time to execute great harm within their homes, for they were morally impure, cunning, and artfully resourceful in performing things secretly. As a result, they quickly corrupted the families and their masters as well, especially Prudent-Thrifty and the one they called Harmless-Mirth. (Let no one deceive you with vain words, for because of these things the wrath of God comes upon the sons of disobedience. Be not ye, therefore, partakers with them. – Ephesians 5:6-7)\n\nHowever, the Lord Anger, who went under the mask of Good-Zeal, wasn't as well liked by his master, for Godly-Fear recognized he was nothing but a counterfeit rogue. When Lord Anger realized he was found out, he escaped from the house. If he hadn't, I don't doubt his master would have hanged him.\n\nUp to this point, these vagabonds carried on with their scheme and corrupted the town as much as they could on their own, and wondered when their prince Diabolus would attempt to seize Mansoul. They all agreed a market day would be best for that effort, because the townsfolk would be distracted with their business. You see, the rule of thumb says when people are most busy in the world, they least fear the unexpected.\n\nThey reasoned, \"If we take action on a market day such as this, we'll be able to meet to lay the groundwork for our friends and lords with less suspicion. And if they do happen to notice what we're doing, and we are forced to retreat, it will be easier to hide in the crowd and make our escape.\"\n\nOnce they agreed on these things, they wrote another letter to Diabolus and sent it by the hand of Mr. Profane. This is what it said:\n\n\"From the lords of Looseness to the great and high Diabolus from our dens, caves, holes, and strongholds in and about the wall of the town of Mansoul, greetings.\n\n\"Our great lord and the nourisher of our lives, Diabolus – how glad we were when we heard that you, our father, are ready to carry our plan forward with us in our attempt to ruin Mansoul. No one can tell, except those who set themselves against all appearances of good, as we do, when and wherever we find it.\n\n\"Concerning the encouragement your greatness was pleased to give us to devise, contrive, and fix our minds upon the complete desolation of Mansoul, let us say we are not anxious about it. We know it can be nothing but pleasing and advantageous for us to see our enemies and those who seek our lives die at our feet or flee before us. We continue to scheme and deceive our enemy to the best of our ability to make this work easy and accomplish it for your lordships and for us.\n\n\"First, we considered that hellishly cunning, threefold project you proposed to us in your last communication. We decided that blowing them up with the gunpowder of pride would do well, and tempting them to be loose and vain would work quite effectively. However, we think the best approach is to bring them into the gulf of hopelessness.\n\n\"Now we who wait for your direction have thought of two ways to do this. First, we will make these Mansoulians as vile as we can. Then when you join us at the appointed time, you'll be able to fall upon them with the greatest force. And of all the nations awaiting your call, we think an army of Doubters would most likely be able to attack and overcome the town of Mansoul with success.\n\n\"With this plan we shall overcome these enemies; otherwise the pit shall open and desperation shall thrust them into it. We've already embedded three of our trusted Diabolians among them. Covetousness, Lasciviousness, and Anger are wearing disguises and have changed their names, and they are now accepted by the Mansoulians.\n\n\"The name of Covetousness has been changed to Prudent-Thrifty, and he has been hired by Mr. Mind who has become almost as bad as our friend. Lasciviousness has changed his name to Harmless-Mirth, and he now serves as Lord Willbewill's lackey. He has made his master very self-indulgent. Anger changed his name to Good-Zeal and was invited to live with Godly-Fear, but that irritable old gentleman was suspicious and kicked our companion out of his house. Since that time, Anger informed us that if he hadn't run away from the old man, his master would have hanged him for what he had done.\n\n\"These three have helped move our work forward in Mansoul, for even with the spite and quarrelsome temper of the old gentleman, the other two Diabolians have applied their efforts and are likely to have their work bring results.\n\n\"As we see it, the next step in this project is for you to come against the town on a market day while the town is caught up in the heat of business. For when they are consumed with such affairs, they will feel most secure and least expect an assault will be made upon them. They will also be less able to defend themselves or to displease you as you put our plan into action.\n\n\"When you make your furious assault outside the gates, we, your trusted and beloved ones, shall be ready to help from within. So in all likelihood, we will be able to put Mansoul into total confusion and swallow them up before they realize what's going on. (For where there is envy and contention, there is confusion and every perverse work. – James 3:16) Our highly esteemed lords and most elusive dragons, if your serpentine heads can find a better way than this, let us know what is on your minds.\n\n\"We send this to the monsters of the infernal cave from the house of Mr. Mischief in Mansoul by the hand of Mr. Profane.\"\n\nWhile the raging rebels and hellish Diabolians planned the ruin of the town of Mansoul, the town fell into a sad and miserable state. This was partly because they had offended Shaddai and His Son and partly because their enemies had renewed their strength within. The many unanswered petitions sent to Prince Emmanuel and His Father Shaddai asking for their pardon and favor added to their despondency. Through the craft and slyness of the domestic Diabolians, the cloud hanging over Mansoul grew blacker and blacker, and their Emmanuel seemed to stand even farther away.\n\nThe sickness still raged in Mansoul, both among the captains and the inhabitants of the town, but their enemies remained lively and strong. If things continued in this way, the Diabolians were likely to become the head, while Mansoul became the tail.\n\nThe Sickness of Mansoul\n\nThe letter written by the Diabolians who still lurked in the town of Mansoul was on its way to be delivered to Diabolus by the hand of Mr. Profane. (He sits in the lurking places of the villages: in the secret places he murders the innocent: his eyes are secretly set against the poor. – Psalm 10:8) He planned to carry the letter past Hell-gate Hill and deliver it to Cerberus to place into the hand of his lord. But when Cerberus and Profane met, since both were about as distinguished as beggars, they fell into a conversation about Mansoul and the plans against her.\n\n\"Old friend!\" Cerberus said in greeting. \"You've come to Hell-gate Hill again! I'm glad to see you!\"\n\nThe wicked Profane, feeling important, returned the greeting and said, \"Yes, I've come again about the concerns of the town of Mansoul.\" He showed the letter to Cerberus who took it from his hand.\n\nThe two stood at the gate talking. \"Please, do tell me about that town of Mansoul and what condition it is in,\" Cerberus said.\n\n\"For us and the lords of this place, it is in magnificent condition,\" Profane began. \"As to godliness, I believe they have deteriorated. That's about the best we can wish for. And their Lord is out of sorts with them, and that pleases us as well. We have access to some of their homes, for our Diabolian friends have gained their acceptance. What more do we need to become masters of the place! Our trusted friends plot daily to betray the lords of this town. The sickness continues to rage bitterly among them. When you add it all up, we hope to prevail in the end.\"\n\nThe dog of Hell-gate agreed. He said, \"There's no better time than this to assault them. I wish the plan would be put into practice, and the desired success achieved soon. I wish it for the sake of the poor Diabolians who live in continual fear of their lives in that traitorous Mansoul.\"\n\n\"Devising of the plan is almost finished,\" Profane said. \"The lords in Mansoul who are Diabolians are working at it day and night, while the Mansoulians are like silly doves. (He lies in wait secretly as a lion in his den: he lies in wait to catch the poor: he catches the poor when he draws him into his net. He crouches and hides himself, and many are those who fall under his power. – Psalm 10:9-10) They cannot see what is going on around them. They'd need understanding to be concerned with their state and recognize ruin is at hand. You can't help but conclude Diabolus will prevail if he moves quickly.\"\n\nCerberus agreed. \"You can say that again. I am glad things are at this point.\" He gestured with his head toward the den beyond Hell-gate. \"I have sent your letter in already. Go in to my lords, my brave Profane; they will welcome you as a bearer of good news, which the whole kingdom will send forth.\"\n\nProfane walked into the den. His Lord Diabolus stepped from the shadows and greeted him. \"Welcome, my trusty servant. Your letter has made me very happy.\"\n\nThe rest of the lords of the pit greeted him in a similar manner, and after Profane bowed low and paid homage to them all, he said, \"Let Mansoul be given to my Lord Diabolus, and let him be her king forever.\" In response, the hollow belly and yawning gorge of hell issued a loud, hideous groan, for that was the music of that place. The mountains trembled as if they would crumble and fall into pieces.\n\nProfane's Interview with Diabolus\n\nAfter the monsters of the infernal cave read and reflected on what the letter said, they talked about how to reply. The first to speak his opinion was Lucifer. He said, \"The initial project of the Diabolians in Mansoul is likely to meet with good success, as they can make Mansoul even more vile and filthy. There is no better way to destroy a soul than this. Our old friend Balaam did this and prospered many years ago. (Who forsaking the right way have erred, having followed the way of Balaam the son of Beor, who loved the wages of unrighteousness. – 2 Peter 2:15)\n\n\"As a general rule for Diabolians in all ages, let this bolster our confidence to attain the greatest number of souls possible. For nothing can make this approach fail except grace, of which I hope this town has no share. (To the praise of the glory of his grace, in which he has made us accepted in the beloved; in whom we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins according to the riches of his grace. – Ephesians 1:6-7)\n\n\"However, whether or not to attack them on a market day because they would be hindered while doing business – that, I think, should be under debate. This approach should be debated because it is essential to the success of our plan. If we don't time it well, our whole plan may fail.\n\n\"Our friends, the Diabolians, say a market day is best because Mansoul will be busiest then and won't be thinking of a surprise attack. But what if they happen to double their guards on those days? Nature and reason would teach them such steps should be taken on market day. And what if they keep watch on those days as their current circumstances require? Think about it. What if their men are always armed on those days? If such is the case, you, my lords, may be disappointed in your attempts and may even place our friends in the town in danger of unavoidable ruin.\"\n\nThe great Beelzebub stood. Flickering firelight danced across his hideous reptilian features. \"My lord has made a good point, but his speculation may or may not come about. Nor has he explained what must not be surrendered again. I know he said what he did to provoke a heated debate about the topic. With that in mind, we must learn whether the town of Mansoul has a sense or knowledge of her decayed state or not. Does she know anything of the plan we have? Does she realize we already have admission to her? If she has such knowledge, it would rouse her to set a watchguard at her gates and to double this security on market days. But, if after we look into it we find they are asleep and unaware regarding our actions, then in my judgment any day will do, but a market day would be best.\"\n\nDiabolus tapped his clawed finger against his pointed chin as he pondered what had been said. \"How would we know this?\"\n\nA voice among the group called out, \"Ask Mr. Profane. He lives there and will know of such goings on.\" So Profane was called in and asked the question.\n\nProfane felt quite important as his lords looked to him for vital information. \"My lords,\" he said, \"so far as I can gather at this time, the condition of the town of Mansoul is that their faith and love has dwindled. (Nevertheless I have against thee that thou hast left thy first love. – Revelation 2:4) They haven't made much of an attempt to correct or amend their lives, and Emmanuel, their Prince, has turned His back on them. They send petitions asking Him to come to them again and again, but He has not responded to their requests in a timely manner.\"\n\nDiabolus smiled broadly, showing his nasty, jagged teeth. \"I am glad to hear they have backslidden in this way, but I'm still troubled by their petitioning of Emmanuel. However, their loose living is a sign that there isn't much heart in these efforts, and if the heart isn't involved, such things are of little value. But go on with what you have to say. I won't distract you further.\"\n\nBeelzebub closed his ideas in the matter. \"If Mansoul's condition is as Profane has described it to us, it won't matter what day we assault it, because their prayers and even their power will do them little good.\" (But your iniquities have separated between you and your God, and your sins have hid his face from you, that he will not hear. – Isaiah 59:2)\n\nWhen Beelzebub finished presenting his opinion, Apollyon followed with his insights. He said, \"My opinion concerning this matter is that we move forward, but without force, not doing things in a hurry. Let our friends in Mansoul go on with their work, polluting and defiling her by seeking to draw her further into sin. There is nothing like sin to devour Mansoul.\n\n\"If this is done and it takes effect, Mansoul will forget about sending further petitions. In fact, she won't do anything to increase her security and safety, for she will forget her Emmanuel and will not desire His company. If she can be drawn into living this way, her Prince won't hurry to her aid. Our trusted friend, Carnal-Security, drove Him out of the town with one of his tricks. Remembering this, I ask, why wouldn't Lord Covetousness and Lord Lasciviousness keep Him out of the town by what they do?\n\n\"I tell you this, not that you don't already know it, but two or three Diabolians working from the inside, if retained and supported by the town of Mansoul, will do more toward keeping Emmanuel from them and toward making the town of Mansoul your own than a legion sent out from us to oppose Him could accomplish.\n\n\"Therefore, let this first segment of the project our friends in Mansoul have begun be carried on. With all cunning and craft imaginable, let them send more of their men to practice deception among the people of Mansoul while living under one disguise or another. If we follow this method, we won't need to rush upon them to make war. If it does become a necessity, the more sinful they are, the more unable they will be to resist us, and the easier it will be for us to overcome them.\n\n\"If you look at it from the worst-case scenario – that Emmanuel actually comes to them again – wouldn't this same approach likely drive Him away from them once more? When He sees how they have slipped into sin again, why wouldn't their actions drive Him from them forever, for the same reason which He was driven from them in the first place? And if this happens, He'll go away with His battering rams, slings, and His captains and soldiers. This would leave Mansoul naked and bare. When the town sees she's utterly forsaken by her Prince, don't you think she'll open her gates to you again of her own accord? (For my enemies speak against me, and those that lay in wait for my soul take counsel together, saying, God has forsaken him; persecute and take him for there is no one to deliver him. – Psalm 71:10-11) Don't you think she will restore you to the place you held in the days of old? But this will be accomplished over time. It's going to take more than a few days to cause such a great work as this to take place.\"\n\nAs soon as Apollyon finished speaking, Diabolus spewed his own malice and pleaded his cause. He said, \"My lords and powers of the cave, my true and trusted friends, I have listened to your long and tedious orations with much impatience. Now I ask that you listen to me. My hunger and thirst are unquenchable, and I lust after a repossession of my famous town of Mansoul. Whatever the outcome, I can't wait any longer to see how things turn out as we drag out our plans. Without further delay, I must seek by all the means at my disposal to fill my insatiable chasm with the soul and body of the town of Mansoul. Therefore, I ask that you lend me your heads, hearts, and your help. For I am going to recover my town of Mansoul – now!\" He pounded his clenched claw to emphasize his point.\n\nWhen the lords and princes of the pit saw the flaming desire within Diabolus to devour the miserable town of Mansoul, they decided not to raise any more objections even though they knew that if they had followed Apollyon's advice, they would have distressed the town of Mansoul far more fearfully. Instead, they consented to lend him what strength they could, just in case they might need him in the future for one of their own schemes. So they moved on to the next subject to be discussed, namely, how many soldiers they had that could join with Diabolus when he went up against the town of Mansoul to take it.\n\nChapter 22\n\nDiabolians Prepare for War\n\nAfter some debate, the fiends who had assembled from the dens, caves, holes, and strongholds agreed to follow the suggestion put forth by the Diabolians in the letter. For this march against Mansoul, none would be better than an army of terrible Doubters, so they decided to send an army of hardy Doubters numbering between twenty and thirty thousand against Mansoul.\n\nThe great council of those high and mighty lords decided Diabolus should speak to the men in the land of Doubting, which lies near the borders of Hell-gate Hill. He was to persuade them to join his ranks against the miserable town of Mansoul.\n\nIt was decided these lords should help Diabolus in this war effort by serving as commanders who would manage his men. So they drew up a letter and sent it back to the Diabolians who lurked in Mansoul and were awaiting Profane's return. In the letter, they made known the method by which the plan was to move forward. This is what it said:\n\n\"From the dark and horrible dungeon of hell, Diabolus, with all the princes of darkness, send this to our trusted ones who dwell in and about the walls of the town of Mansoul. We know how impatiently you are waiting for our most devilish answer to your venomous and most poisonous plan against the town of Mansoul.\n\n\"You are our offspring in whom we boast every day and in whose actions we delight all year long. We received your valuable letter at the hand of our trusted and beloved Mr. Profane, and to your amazing credit, we want you to know when we opened and read the contents, our yawning, hollow-bellied abyss made a hideous, bellowing noise for joy. The great sound shook the mountains around Hell-gate Hill to pieces.\n\n\"We admire your faithfulness and the slyness of your plan and how it has shown us that you stand ready to serve us against the town of Mansoul. In fact, you have invented such an excellent approach for our proceeding against that rebellious people that we don't believe a more effectual approach could be thought of by all the wits of hell. Therefore, since we saw the proposals you have sent us, we have admired and approved them.\n\n\"We want to encourage you with insights regarding your cunning and let you know that at a full assembly and conclave of our princes and principalities, we discussed your proposal at length and agreed a better or more fit way to proceed could not be devised to surprise, take, and make the rebellious town of Mansoul our own.\n\n\"As the plan was discussed, anything which varied from what you laid out in your letter fell aside, and only your ideas stuck as the way to move forward for Diabolus, the prince. His heart burns hot to put your plan into action.\n\n\"We therefore wanted you to understand our brave, furious, and unmerciful Diabolus is raising more than twenty thousand Doubters to come against Mansoul, for your relief and the ruin of that rebellious town. These men are all valiant, strong, and accustomed to war. He is doing this work with all possible speed, for his heart and spirit are dominated by it. We desire you to join with us, as you have in the past, and we ask that you continue to give us both advice and encouragement. If you continue to pursue our plan, you will not lose out but shall be rewarded, for we intend to make you the lords of Mansoul.\n\n\"Those of us here desire every one of you who are in Mansoul to use all your power, cunning, and skill with deceptive persuasion to draw the town of Mansoul into more sin and wickedness with the goal of drawing them into that sin that brings forth death. (But exhort one another daily, while it is called Today, lest any of you be hardened through the deceitfulness of sin. – Hebrews 3:13)\n\n\"With this in mind, we've decided the more vile, sinful, and corrupt the town of Mansoul is, the more unwilling Emmanuel will be to come to her aid, either by His actual presence or in some other form of relief. The more sinful she becomes, the weaker and the more unable the Mansoulians will be to resist when we make our assault to overtake them. (When anyone hears the word of the kingdom and does not understand it, then the wicked one comes and catches away that which was sown in his heart. – Matthew 13:19) Their mighty Shaddai Himself will cast them out of His protection. If this were to happen, He would also send for His captains and soldiers to return home with His slings and rams and leave them vulnerable. Then the town of Mansoul would open to us and fall as a ripe fig into the mouth of the eater. Yes, this would make it a great deal easier to come against her and overcome her.\n\n\"As to the timing of our plan to come against Mansoul, we haven't resolved that point as yet. Some of us agree with your thinking that a market day or even the night of a market day would be best. However, be ready at all times. When you hear the loud, continual roar of our drum outside the wall, do your best to create the most horrible confusion within the walls of the town. In this way, Mansoul will be distressed inside and outside, and they won't know which way to turn for help.\n\n\"Lord Lucifer, Lord Beelzebub, Lord Apollyon, Lord Legion, and all the others greet you, as does the Lord Diabolus. We wish everything you do or possess to produce the very same fruit and success as we enjoy for our efforts.\n\n\"From our dreadful boarders in the most fearful pit, we greet you, and so do the many legions here with us. We all wish that you may be as hellishly prosperous as we desire to be ourselves. By the letter carrier, Mr. Profane.\"\n\nMr. Profane then concentrated on getting ready for his return to Mansoul and his errand to deliver the letter from the horrible pit to the Diabolians who lived in that town. When he walked up the stairs from the deep pit and reached the mouth of the cave, Cerberus saw him and asked, \"How did matters go below regarding the town of Mansoul?\"\n\nProfane shrugged. \"Things went as well as we can expect. The letter I carried here from Mansoul was well liked by all my lords and highly approved. I'm returning to tell our Diabolians this news, and I carry an answer to it here.\" He patted the pocket over his heart where he'd placed the letter for safekeeping. \"I'm sure it will make our masters who sent me glad, because the contents of the letter are written to encourage them to pursue their plan to the fullest. It instructs them to be ready at any time to attack from within, when they see Lord Diabolus surrounding the town of Mansoul.\"\n\nCerberus's canine brow wrinkled with surprise. \"You mean he intends to go against them himself?\"\n\nProfane's thin lips pulled into a half-smirk. \"Does he? Yes! And he plans to take more than twenty thousand men of war with him – all strong Doubters, handpicked men from the land of Doubting who will serve him in the mission.\"\n\nProfane Returns from the Pit\n\nCerberus was glad to hear this news. He said, \"Are such bold preparations being made to go against the miserable town of Mansoul? I hope I might be put in charge of a thousand of them in order to show my own valor.\"\n\n\"Your wish may come to pass,\" Profane said. \"You look like one who has courage enough, and my lord will bring with him those who are valiant and brave.\" He patted Cerberus on the back. \"I must be on my way. My business requires haste.\"\n\nCerberus nodded. \"So it does. Hurry and be on your way to Mansoul with all its troublemakers. And when you arrive at the house of Mr. Mischief, tell the Diabolians who meet there that Cerberus wishes to serve them. And tell them I hope to come with the army against the famous town of Mansoul.\" (They gather themselves together as an army against the life of the righteous and condemn the innocent blood. – Psalm 94:21)\n\n\"I will pass along your message,\" Profane said. \"And I know my lords will be glad to hear it and to see you also.\"\n\nAfter they passed a few more compliments back and forth like this, Mr. Profane said good-bye to his friend Cerberus who sent him off with a thousand pit-wishes and told him to hurry on his way to his masters. Profane bowed with respect one last time and turned on his heels to run to Mansoul.\n\nHe returned to Mansoul in this way and went straight to the house of Mr. Mischief, as he did following the delivery of the first letter. There he found the Diabolians assembled and waiting for his return. He delivered the letter to them with the compliments to go with it. He started reading the message to them. \"My lords, from the confines of the pit, the high and mighty principalities and powers of the den greet you, the true Diabolians of the town of Mansoul. (For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the lords of this age, rulers of this darkness, against spiritual wickedness in the heavens. – Ephesians 6:12) We are thankful for the great service, vigorous efforts, and valiant achievements you've taken upon yourselves for the restoring of this to our prince Diabolus.\"\n\nThis was the state of the miserable town of Mansoul: she had offended her Prince; He was gone; and she had encouraged the powers of hell to come against her to seek her complete destruction.\n\nTrue, the town of Mansoul could still perceive moral good from evil and was aware of her sin, but the Diabolians had affected her at the core, at the seat of her pity and kindness and, therefore, affected her tenderness, compassion, and scriptural sense.\n\nShe cried, but Emmanuel was gone, and her cries didn't bring Him back. She didn't know whether He would ever return to His Mansoul again. Plus they were ignorant of the power and diligence of the enemy – how they were moving forward with the scheme of hell they had devised against her.\n\nThey sent petition after petition to the Prince, but He answered all of them with silence. They still neglected to correct or amend their lives from transgressing the moral law. They continued in corrupt conduct, which is exactly how Diabolus wanted it. He knew if they regarded iniquity in their heart, their King would not hear their prayer. (If I regard iniquity in my heart, the Lord will not hear me. – Psalm 66:18) They therefore grew weaker and weaker, being driven like a tumbleweed in the whirlwind.\n\nThey cried to their King for help, while maintaining a friendship with the Diabolians. What could a King do? For now, a mixture of Diabolians and Mansoulians walked the streets together. The Diabolians began to seek peace with the Mansoulians, because the sickness had become so life threatening in Mansoul that fighting in such close quarters with them would be in vain. Mansoul's weakness had become her enemies' strength, and the sins of Mansoul were to the Diabolians' advantage. (For the ways of man are before the eyes of the LORD, and he weighs all his goings. His own iniquities shall take hold of the wicked, and he shall be imprisoned with the cords of his sins. He shall die because he did not submit to chastening; and due to the greatness of his folly he shall go astray. – Proverbs 5:21-23)\n\nThe foes of Mansoul began to promise themselves possession of the town, because there wasn't much difference now between Mansoulians and Diabolians. In fact, both seemed to be masters of Mansoul. It was a sad sight to see the Diabolians increase and grow while the town of Mansoul diminished, with more than eleven thousand men, women, and children dying from the sickness.\n\nChapter 23\n\nMansoul Prepares\n\nBut now, Shaddai provided one who loved the people of Mansoul. His name was Mr. Prywell. He walked the streets of Mansoul and paid close attention to everything, trying to see or hear any plans against it. He was vigilant and always feared some harm would befall Mansoul, either from the Diabolians within the town or from some power outside the walls.\n\nOne time as Prywell walked about with his ears perked to listen, he came to a place called Vile-hill in Mansoul. A house stood there, and Diabolians used it for meeting. One night Prywell heard some muttering from this house, and he tiptoed closer to hear. He stood at the corner of the house where he could listen for quite a long time. Someone inside affirmed, \"It won't be long before Diabolus possesses Mansoul again.\" This person also said that when this happened, the Diabolians intended to put all Mansoulians to the sword! They even planned to kill and destroy the King's captain and drive all His soldiers out of the town. Prywell stood still with a sinking heart. He forced himself to stay long enough to hear the one talking say, \"Diabolus has prepared more than twenty thousand fighting men to accomplish this plan, and it will be accomplished soon.\"\n\nWhen Prywell heard this, he didn't doubt it was true. He hurried to the Lord Mayor Understanding's house and recounted all he'd heard. Understanding sent for Mr. Conscience and broke the news to him. Mr. Conscience sounded the alarm to the town, for he was now the chief preacher in Mansoul, because the Lord Secretary was the secondary preacher. He alerted the town that same hour by ringing the lecture bell, so the people came together in one place. He offered them short but encouraging advice, telling them to be watchful. (Watch and pray, that ye enter not into temptation; the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak. – Matthew 26:41) Then he shared Mr. Prywell's news.\n\nHe said, \"A horrible plot has been contrived against Mansoul to massacre all of us in a day. This information cannot be ignored because Prywell is the source, and he loves Mansoul and always has. He's a serious man of sound judgment and is no idle talker or one to raise false reports. However, he is one who loves to get to the bottom of things and doesn't just talk about the latest news but bases what he tells on very solid arguments. I will call him, so you can hear what he has to say with your own ears.\"\n\nSo he called Mr. Prywell who came and told his tale. All he said was affirmed as truth with an abundance of facts, and as a result, Mansoul fell under conviction of the truth.\n\nThe preacher also backed him by saying, \"It isn't irrational for us to believe this, for we have provoked Shaddai to anger. We have sinned Emmanuel out of the town, and we've had too much communication and dealings with Diabolians. We have forsaken our former mercies. It's no surprise then that the enemy should have a scheme in place, both within and without, to plot our ruin. What better time to do it? The sickness of sin is now in the town, and we have been weakened by it. (I acknowledged my sin unto thee, and I have not hid my iniquity. I said, I will confess (against myself) my rebellions unto the LORD, and thou shalt forgive the iniquity of my sin. – Psalm 32:5) Many a good-meaning man is dead, and the Diabolians grow stronger and stronger.\"\n\nMr. Conscience continued, \"I've received from this good truth-teller, Mr. Prywell, even more insight as to the harm planned against us. He overheard that several letters have passed between the furies and the Diabolians to plan our destruction.\"\n\nWhen Mansoul heard all this, they were unable to deny it. They lifted their voices as one and wept. Prywell stepped forward in the presence of the townsmen and confirmed the truth of all their preacher had said. They again expressed deep sorrow for their depravity of mind and doubled the number of requests sent to Shaddai and His Son. They broke the news to the captains, high commanders, and men of war in the town of Mansoul and asked them to use the intervening time to be strong and to take courage. (Be of good courage and strengthen your hearts, all ye that wait in the LORD. – Psalm 31:24)\n\nThey told them to look after their armor and other equipment and make themselves ready to face Diabolus in battle night or day, so they'd be ready whenever he chose to beleaguer the town of Mansoul.\n\nNow the captains loved the town of Mansoul, and when they heard this, they gathered like many Samsons and shook themselves awake. They put their heads together and plotted how to defeat the bold and hellish plans put in place by Diabolus and his friends against the now sick, weak, and impoverished town of Mansoul. They agreed upon these steps:\n\nFirst, the gates of Mansoul were to be kept shut and made secure with bars and locks. Security measures were to be put in place that required everyone who went out or came in to be inspected by the captains of the guards, who said, \"In order that those who live deceptively among us and are leaders in this plot for our ruin may be taken into custody.\"\n\nSecond, a strict search was to be made for every Diabolian throughout the whole town of Mansoul. Every house was to be searched from top to bottom for these Diabolian leaders and others who might have a hand in these plans.\n\nThird, Mansoul decided that even those of the town of Mansoul, who had provided a house and lodging to the Diabolians, should repent in a public place as a warning to others.\n\nFourth, the town of Mansoul determined that the entire town should hold a public fast – a day to show they accepted their Prince as just and to humble themselves before Him for their violations against Him and against Shaddai, His Father. (But as for me, when they were sick, my clothing was sackcloth; I humbled my soul with fasting, and my prayer rose up in my bosom. – Psalm 35:13) It was decided that anyone in Mansoul who didn't keep the fast or humble themselves for their faults, but who continued to devote their minds to worldly works or wandering about doing as they pleased, should suffer as Diabolians for their wicked actions.\n\nFifth, they decided to waste no time in renewing their humiliation for their sin, and with enthusiasm and zeal they sent off petitions to Shaddai asking for help. They also decided to let the court know about what Mr. Prywell had told them.\n\nSixth, the town of Mansoul determined that thanks should be given to Prywell for his diligence in seeking after the welfare of their town and for his natural inclination to seek their good and undermine the intentions of their enemies. They commissioned him as Scoutmaster-General for the good of the town of Mansoul.\n\nThe Council of the Captains of Mansoul\n\nWhen the entire assembly and their captains had finished planning this course of action, they followed through with every item. First, they shut up their gates, then they began a strict search for all the Diabolians. Those with whom Diabolians were found were expected to repent in the open, and the town kept their fast and renewed their appeals to their Prince. Mr. Prywell managed the task Mansoul had put into his hands with great integrity and dependability. (Moreover, it is required in stewards that each one be found faithful. – 1 Corinthians 4:2) He devoted his attention and effort both in the town and outside the walls to pry, see, and hear.\n\nAfter a few days, he made provision for his journey and went towards Hell-gate Hill into the country where the Doubters lived. Here he heard about all that he had overheard in Mansoul, and he sensed that Diabolus was almost ready for his march against them. So he returned to Mansoul and called the captains and elders together. He told them where he had been and what he'd heard and seen. Particularly, he told them, \"Diabolus is almost ready for his march against Mansoul, and he has made old Mr. Incredulity – the very same man who once broke out of prison in Mansoul – the general of his army.\"\n\nPrywell spoke urgently about these matters. \"Diabolus's army consists of Doubters; every one of them is a Doubter. They number more than twenty thousand. With these forces, he intends to bring the chief princes of the infernal pit. He plans to make them his chief captains over his Doubters.\" He also told them it was true that several of those from the dark den who had been driven back with Diabolus planned to reduce the town of Mansoul in obedience to Diabolus, their prince.\n\nHe said, \"I understand the Doubters, for I was once one myself.\" He went on to explain that old Incredulity was made general over the whole army because \"there's no one truer to the tyrant. He is motivated by merciless spite against the well-being of Mansoul. He remembers the poor treatment Mansoul showed him, and he intends to spitefully punish them in return. So while the dark princes will be made high commanders, only Incredulity will be in charge, because he can easily and more adeptly surround the town with an army in a way to preclude escape better than any of the princes can.\"\n\nWhen the captains of Mansoul and the elders of the town heard this news delivered by Prywell, they thought it beneficial to enact the laws that were already in place against the Diabolians – the very laws their Prince had made for them in order to restrain the Diabolians. Now they enforced them without further delay. They were so diligent and impartial that a search was made in every house in Mansoul for all manner of Diabolian.\n\nIn the house of Mr. Mind and in the house of the great Lord Willbewill, two Diabolians were found. In Mr. Mind's house, they discovered Lord Covetousness, even though he had changed his name to Prudent-Thrifty. In Lord Willbewill's house, Lasciviousness was found, but he'd changed his name to Harmless-Mirth. The captains and elders of the town of Mansoul took these two Diabolians and committed them to the custody of Mr. True-Man, the jailer. He handled them quite harshly and placed them in irons, so after a short time they both wasted away and died in the prison house. In accordance with the agreement of the captains and elders, their masters were brought out to publicly do penance to their shame as a warning to the rest of the town of Mansoul. (And this is the condemnation, that the light is come into the world, and men loved darkness more than the light because their deeds were evil. – John 3:19)\n\nThe method of penance in those days was to make the offending persons aware of the evil they had done, so they were ordered to confess their faults and correct their lives going forward.\n\nAfter this, the captains and elders of Mansoul continued the search for more Diabolians. They sought them out in all the places where they lurked, whether it be in dens, caves, holes, vaults, or anywhere else in or about the wall or town of Mansoul. (For every one that does evil hates the light, and does not come to the light, lest his deeds should be reproved. – John 3:20) But even though they plainly followed the Diabolians' scents and tracked them to the mouths of their caves and dens, they were unable to take them into custody to bring them to justice, because their ways were so crooked and their holds so strong that they quickly took sanctuary there. (Therefore, judge nothing before the time, until the Lord comes, who both will bring to light the hidden things of darkness and will make manifest the counsels of the hearts. – 1 Corinthians 4:5)\n\nEven with the stiff rules in place, Mansoul wasn't able to eradicate the Diabolians. Any remaining Diabolians gladly shrank into corners and stayed out of sight rather than dare to walk out in the open during the day, as they had been doing. But now they were forced to live in seclusion, and at night, the Mansoulians, who were once their companions, now counted them as deadly enemies. This good change resulted from the intelligence Prywell delivered to the famous town of Mansoul.\n\nChapter 24\n\nDrummings and Deceit\n\nBy this time, Diabolus had finished building his army. He had his captains and other field officers in place, and all of them admired his intense anger. He considered himself lord supreme with Incredulity as the general of his army; I'll name the chief captains later. For now, the officers, colors, symbols, and standards had all been put in place to ruin Mansoul. These officers included:\n\nCaptain Rage, who was first captain, was placed over the Election-doubters. (Therefore, brethren, give all the more diligence to make your calling and election sure. – 2 Peter 1:10) His colors were red and his standard-bearer was Mr. Destructive; the coat of arms on his shield was the great red dragon.\n\nThe second captain was Captain Fury, who was placed over the Vocation-doubters. (There is one body and one Spirit, even as ye are called in one hope of your calling. – Ephesians 4:4) Mr. Darkness served as his standard-bearer, and the silk flags marking his unit were pale colors with the fiery flying serpent the symbol used for his coat of arms.\n\nThe third captain, Captain Damnation, was captain over the Grace-doubters. (But unto each one of us is given grace according to the measure of the gift of the Christ. – Ephesians 4:7) His red colors were carried by Mr. No-Life. The symbol on his shield was the black den.\n\nThe fourth captain, Captain Insatiable, served as captain over the Faith-doubters. (Faith, therefore, is the substance of things waited for, the evidence of things not seen. – Hebrews 11:1) His standard-bearer, Mr. Devourer, flew the red colors; the symbol for his coat of arms was the yawning jaws.\n\nThe fifth captain, Captain Brimstone, was captain over the Perseverance-doubters, and his standard-bearer, Mr. Burning, also carried the red colors with the symbol of the blue stinking flame. (Therefore, my beloved brothers, be ye steadfast, unmovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, forasmuch as ye know that your labour is not in vain in the Lord. – 1 Corinthians 15:58)\n\nThe sixth captain, Captain Torment, oversaw the Resurrection-doubters. (And with great power the apostles gave witness of the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, and great grace was upon them all. – Acts 4:33) He flew the pale colors and his shield bore the symbol of the black worm. Mr. Gnaw served as his standard-bearer.\n\nThe seventh captain, Captain No-Ease, was set as captain over the Salvation-doubters. (But the salvation of the righteous is the LORD; he is their strength in the time of trouble. – Psalm 37:39) Mr. Restless was his standard-bearer and also flew flags of red. His symbol was the ghastly picture of death.\n\nThe eighth captain, Captain Sepulcher, was placed over the Glory-doubters, and his standard-bearer carried the pale colors and bore the symbol of a skull and dead men's bones. (To whom God would make known what is the riches of the glory of this mystery in the Gentiles, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory. – Colossians 1:27)\n\nThe ninth captain, Captain Past-Hope, served as captain of those who are called the Felicity-doubters. (Happy is the man whose strength is in thee, in whose heart are thy ways. – Psalm 84:5) His standard-bearer was Mr. Despair, and his unit also flew the red colors. His coat of arms bore the symbol of a hot iron and the hard heart.\n\nThe great Diabolus also placed seven superior captains. The names of these chief captains were Lord Beelzebub, Lord Lucifer, Lord Legion, Lord Apollyon, Lord Python, Lord Cerberus, and Lord Belial, and Incredulity was lord-general. Over all of them, Diabolus was king. Others were made captains of hundreds, and some were made captains of more, and the army under Incredulity was completed as they rendezvoused at Hell-gate Hill.\n\nSo they set out in great numbers from Hell-gate Hill and marched straight toward the town of Mansoul. As I hinted earlier, the town wasn't taken by surprise, for as Shaddai planned, Mansoul received the warning of their coming from Mr. Prywell. Thanks to this warning, the town had set up a watchman at the gates and doubled the guards. They mounted their slings in strategic places from which they could cast great stones against their furious enemy.\n\nMansoul put in place measures to restrict and eliminate those Diabolians who had been designated to bring harm to Mansoul from within her walls, so they were unable to fulfill their role. Mansoul was now awake. But oh, the poor people were afraid when they caught sight of their enemies marching toward them. Once those troops sat outside the town, the thunder of their drums filled Mansoul with even more dread. It was an amazingly hideous sound to hear and sight to see with the streaming colors unfurled in the breeze. Such a presence frightened every man within seven miles and discouraged them even further. (Give ear to my prayer, O God, ... because of the voice of the enemy because of the oppression of the wicked; for they cast iniquity upon me, and in wrath they hate me. ... Fearfulness and trembling are come upon me, and horror has overwhelmed me. – Psalm 55:1a, 3, 5)\n\nWhen Diabolus came up against the town, he approached Ear-gate first and furiously assaulted it. He must have thought his friends in Mansoul were in place and ready to help him from within to overtake Mansoul. However, due to the vigilance of Shaddai's captains, those Diabolian troublemakers were taken out of commission. Because Diabolus lacked the help that he expected and the stones from the slingers pounded his army, he was forced to retreat from Mansoul. So he entrenched himself and his men in the field outside the reach of the slings.\n\nConsidering the lingering weakness of Shaddai's captains from the long sickness which had bothered the town of Mansoul, they performed gallantly.\n\nOnce Diabolus entrenched himself, he set up four bulwarks against the town. The first of these mounds he called Mount Diabolus, giving it his own name to frighten the town of Mansoul more. The other three he called Mount Alecto, Mount Megara, and Mount Tisiphone, after the dreadful furies of hell. He did this to toy with Mansoul like the lion does with its prey to make it drop with terror. But, as I said, Mansoulian captains and soldiers resisted, as they slung their stones against the enemy and forced them to retreat. Mansoul therefore took courage.\n\nNow, upon Mount Diabolus, which was raised on the north side of the town, the tyrant set up his standard. He fashioned it, using devilish art that looked like a coat of arms and included a picture of Mansoul burning – making it a fearful thing to look at.\n\nWith his standard raised, Diabolus said, \"I now have a mind to negotiate with the trembling town of Mansoul.\" So he commanded his drummer to approach the walls of the town of Mansoul every night and beat out the call for a parley – a signal for holding a conference with the enemy. He chose to do this at night, because during the day their slings inconvenienced him. He also thought that if the drums beat every night, he might wear them down. He reasoned that even if Mansoul was unwilling to consider meeting with him, they might become weary and be forced to do it.\n\nSo his drummer did as commanded. He arose and beat his drum, and it was a dreadful sound. If one looked toward the town of Mansoul, only darkness and sorrow could be seen. (And in that day they shall roar against them like the roaring of the sea; and if one looks unto the land, behold darkness and sorrow, and the light is darkened in the heavens thereof. – Isaiah 5:30) No noise ever heard on earth was more dreadful, except the voice of Shaddai when He spoke. But Diabolus's tactic worked, because Mansoul trembled and thought they'd be swallowed up instantly.\n\nAs this drummer beat his drum for a parley, he made a speech to Mansoul. \"My master has told me to tell you that if you submit, you will enjoy the good of the earth. But if you choose to be stubborn, he is determined to take you by force.\"\n\nWhen the drummer finished delivering his message and beating his drum, the people of Mansoul had already run to the captains who were in the castle, so no one considered what the drummer said or gave him an answer. So he said no more, but returned to the camp and his master.\n\nWhen Diabolus realized that drumming didn't work to make Mansoul bend to his will, he sent his drummer without his drum to again make known to the townsmen his hope to talk with them. But his parley turned into a summons for the town to deliver themselves up to Diabolus. They wouldn't listen or pay attention to anything he said, because they remembered how it cost them to hear just a few words from him.\n\nThe next night he sent his messenger again to Mansoul, but this time it was none other than the terrible Captain Sepulcher. So Captain Sepulcher approached the walls of Mansoul and made this speech to the town:\n\n\"Inhabitants of the rebellious town of Mansoul! I summon you in the name of the prince Diabolus. Without further fuss, throw open the gates of your town and admit the great lord. Be warned, if you still choose to rebel, we will swallow you up like the grave after we've taken the town by force. Let me know whether or not you accept my summons.\"\n\nBefore they said anything, he went on to present the reasons behind the summons. \"This summons is brought by my lord, who is undoubtedly your prince and lord as you yourselves formerly admitted. The prince plans to recover what belongs to him – to reinstate the right he lost at the hand of Emmanuel when He dealt so dishonorably with the prince and prevailed. Consider this, Mansoul, are you going to be peaceable in this regard or not? If you surrender yourself, then our old friendship shall be renewed as if nothing has ever changed; but if you refuse and rebel, then you can expect nothing but fire and sword in response.\"\n\nThe Terrible Captain Sepulchre with His Standard-Bearer Corruption\n\nWhen the languishing town of Mansoul heard this summons as it was delivered to the captain, they fell deeper into the doldrums, but gave the captain no answer at all. (Our soul is exceedingly weary of the scorning of those that are at ease and of the contempt of the proud. – Psalm 123:4) So the summoner went away the same way he had come.\n\nAfter discussing this among themselves and with some of their captains, Mansoul again joined themselves to the Lord Secretary, their chief preacher. They asked for His counsel and advice, but now He was ill at ease, so they begged His favor in these few things:\n\nThey wanted Him to look upon them in a comforting manner and not stay so withdrawn but to draw nearer to them. They hoped He would listen as they confessed their miserable condition to Him. But to this He said, \"I am ill at ease and as a result can't do the work I formerly did.\" (Quench not the Spirit. Despise not prophecies. Examine all things; retain that which is good. – 1 Thessalonians 5:19-21)\n\nThen they desired that He would give them His advice about their current situation, for Diabolus camped before the town with no less than twenty thousand Doubters. They said, \"Moreover, he and his captains are cruel men! We fear them!\"\n\nBut to this He said, \"You must look to the Law of the Prince. There you shall see what you should do.\" (But whosoever has looked attentively into the perfect law of liberty and has persevered in it, not being a forgetful hearer, but a doer of the work, the same shall be blessed in their deed. – James 1:25)\n\nThey also desired His help in putting together a petition to Shaddai and His Son Emmanuel with His own signature as a token sign that He was in agreement with them.\n\nThey went on to say, \"My Lord, we've sent many petitions, but get no answer of peace. But surely, if we send one with your signature on it, we will obtain good for Mansoul.\"\n\nBut He answered, \"You have offended your Emmanuel and have grieved Me. Therefore, you must admit your part in all this.\"\n\nThis answer from the Lord Secretary fell like a millstone upon them. Yes, it crushed them to the point that they didn't know what to do. The one thing they knew was that they dare not comply with the demands of Diabolus or the demands of his captain. (For godly sorrow works repentance to salvation. – 2 Corinthians 7:10a) So the town of Mansoul was in a difficult position. They knew that when the enemy came upon them, they would be swallowed up, but their friends refused to help.\n\nThen the Lord Mayor Understanding stood and began to pick and pick, until he handpicked bits of comfort from what the Lord Secretary had said. \"First,\" he said, \"it does not escape notice that this follows my Lord saying that we must yet suffer for our sins. Secondly,\" He counted off on his finger, \"what He has said sounds as if we will be saved from our enemies in the end, and after enduring the mental anguish of a few more frustrated hopes of good, Emmanuel will come and be our help.\"\n\nNow Understanding was more accurate in his dealing with the High Secretary's words, because He was more than a prophet. His words were important at all times and most precise according to principle, justice, and righteousness, and the townsmen were allowed to delve into and expound upon them to their best advantage.\n\nSo they left Understanding and returned to the captains and told them what Lord High Secretary had said. When the captains heard it, they all agreed with Lord Understanding. They drew courage from this and took steps to make some brave attempt upon the camp of the enemy and wipe out all Diabolians and the roving Doubters the tyrant brought with him to destroy Mansoul.\n\nThey all departed to their places – the captains to theirs, the Lord Mayor to his, the secondary preacher to his, and Lord Willbewill to his place. The captains were itching to do something for their Prince, for they delighted in warlike achievements, so the next day they came together and talked; they determined to answer the captain of Diabolus with slings.\n\nAs the sun brightened the sky the next morning, Diabolus ventured nearer to Mansoul again, but the slings hurled stones toward his troops and pestered him like a stirred hornet's nest. Diabolus's drum roared, but since there's nothing as formidable as the accurate aim of Emmanuel's slings, Diabolus was forced to make another retreat even farther from the famous town of Mansoul. (Submit yourselves, therefore, to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. – James 4:7)\n\nDiabolus Discomfited by the Slings of Emmanuel\n\nWhen the Lord Understanding saw this, he ordered the bells to be rung. He said, \"Thanks should be sent to the Lord High Secretary by the mouth of the secondary preacher, Mr. Conscience, for by his words the captains and elders of Mansoul were strengthened against Diabolus.\"\n\nWhen Diabolus saw his captains and soldiers, high lords and renowned men quaver with fear, beaten down by the stones flung from the golden slings of the Prince of the town of Mansoul, he came up with an idea to trick Mansoul. He said to himself, \"I will try to ensnare them by flattering them into my net.\"\n\nTherefore, after a while, he came down to the wall again – this time without his drum and without Captain Sepulcher. Instead, he came near with treacherous lips, feigning to be sweet as sugar. (He that hides hatred has lying lips. – Proverbs 10:18a) He acted like a very sweet-mouthed, peaceable prince, planning no revenge on Mansoul for the injuries done to him, but instead, he appeared interested in the welfare and good of Mansoul. He told the people his only plan was for the benefit of the town and people. So after he called for a hearing, he made it known that he desired the townsfolk to give Mansoul to him. He proceeded in his oration.\n\nWith lying lips he sugarcoated his words: \"Oh Mansoul, the desire of my heart! How many nights have I watched and how many weary steps have I taken, thinking that perhaps I might do you good! My desire isn't to wage war upon you. All you need to do is willingly and quietly deliver yourselves up to me.\" (The words of his mouth are iniquity and deceit. – Psalm 36:3a) He gestured toward them with an open hand. \"You know you were mine in days of old. Remember those days? As long as you enjoyed me as your lord, and I enjoyed you as my subjects, you lacked nothing of all the delights of the earth. I, your lord and prince, could get or invent anything you desired to make you happy.\n\n\"Think about it. You never had so many hard, dark, troublesome, and heart-afflicting times while you were mine, as you've had to suffer since you revolted against me. You won't ever have peace again, until you and I become united. Just embrace me again and I will grant and even expand your old freedoms with an abundance of privileges. You'll be free to take, hold, enjoy, and make everything that is pleasant your own from the east to the west.\n\n\"And none of those discourtesies with which you've offended me will ever be charged against you as long as the sun and the moon shine. Nor will any of those dear Diabolian friends of mine, who now live in fear as they lurk in dens and holes and caves, be hurtful toward you any longer. Instead, they'll be your servants and will minister to you, using their own property and whatever else becomes available. I don't need to say any more about them. You know them and at times have even been delighted with their company. Why should we live at such odds as we do now?\" His lipless reptilian mouth stretched into a wide smile as he extended his arms in a gesture of welcome. \"Let's renew our old familiarity and friendship again. (Whosoever therefore that desires to be a friend of the world, makes himself the enemy of God. – James 4:4b)\n\n\"Bear with your friend,\" he placed his claw-like fingers against his chest, \"as I take the liberty to speak freely to you. The love I have for you presses me to do this as does the passion of my heart for my friends.\" He laid his talons over his heart for a moment and offered a sad look, as he said, \"So don't cause me further trouble or more fear and anxiety for yourselves.\" His forced smile curled into more of a sneer. \"I will have you one way or another, whether by peace or war. Don't flatter yourselves thinking the power and force of your captains is enough or that your Emmanuel will come soon to help you, because such strength will do you no good.\" His face filled with arrogant pride.\n\n\"I've come against you with a brave and valiant army and all the chief princes of the den to lead. My captains are swifter than eagles, stronger than lions, and greedier for prey than wolves in the evening. What is Og of Bashan! (For only Og, king of Bashan, had remained of the remnant of giants. – Deuteronomy 3:11) What is Goliath of Gath! They and one hundred more like them are equal to one of the least of my captains! So how does Mansoul think they will escape my hand and power?\"\n\nAfter Diabolus delivered his flattering, ingratiating, deceitful, and lying speech to the famous town of Mansoul, the Lord Mayor Understanding replied, \"O Diabolus, prince of darkness and master of all deceit, we've already tried your lying flatteries and have tasted too deeply of that destructive cup. Should we listen to you again and break the commandments of our great Shaddai to join with you? If we did that, wouldn't our Prince reject us and cast us off forever? And, being cast off by Him, can the place which He has prepared for you be a place of rest for us? (And he laid hold on the dragon, the serpent of old, which is the Devil and Satan and bound him a thousand years and cast him into the bottomless pit and shut him up and set a seal upon it. – Revelation 20:2-3a) O you who are empty and void of all truth, we would rather die by your hand than fall in with your flattering and lying deceits.\"\n\nWhen the tyrant saw there was little to be gained by negotiating with Lord Understanding, he fell into a hellish rage and determined he and his army of Doubters would assault the town of Mansoul another time.\n\nChapter 25\n\nAttack on Mansoul\n\nSo Diabolus called for his drummer, who signaled for his men to make ready for battle with Mansoul. When Mansoul heard the beat of the drum, she shook as they watched Diabolus draw near with his army and position his men. Captain Cruel and Captain Torment drew up against Feel-gate and were stationed there for the war. Diabolus appointed Captain No-Ease as their relief if needed.\n\nAt Nose-gate he placed Captain Brimstone and Captain Sepulcher and ordered them to be vigilant and defend their position on that side of the town of Mansoul. At Eye-gate he placed the grim-faced Captain Past-Hope who set up his terrible standard.\n\nNow Captain Insatiable looked after the conquest and acquisitions of Diabolus. He was ordered to take into custody those people and things that should be taken from the enemy as plunder.\n\nAs for Mouth-gate, the inhabitants of Mansoul kept it primarily as a private, well-fortified gate, because it was by this gate that the townsfolk sent their petitions to Emmanuel, their Prince. At the top of this gate, the captains deployed their slings against the enemies, for this gate was situated uphill and was an ideal site for letting the stones fly against the tyrant's army. Therefore, Diabolus sought to take Mouth-gate.\n\nAs Diabolus prepared to make his assault upon the town of Mansoul from outside the walls, within the town the captains and soldiers mounted their slings, set up their banners, sounded their trumpets, and strategically placed themselves to upset and injure the enemy for the benefit of Mansoul. Then the captains ordered their soldiers to be ready to act when the trumpet of war sounded.\n\nLord Willbewill had his own orders. He was given the responsibility of watching for the rebels who still lived in Mansoul and to do his best to capture them when they came out of hiding or smother them within their caves, dens, and holes in the town wall. And for those who may wonder if Willbewill could be trusted, I must say that ever since he accepted the penance imposed on him for his wrongdoing, he showed as much honesty and bravery of spirit as any in Mansoul. His actions showed true repentance as he took Jolly and his brother Griggish, the two sons of his servant Harmless-Mirth who lived in his house, and with his own hands he put them to the cross. (Bring forth therefore fruits worthy of repentance. – Luke 3:8)\n\nThe reason he hanged them on the cross? Well, after their father was placed in the custody of True-Man, the jailer, his sons played the same mischief they had learned from their father and toyed with the daughters of their lord. When it was brought to his attention, he became fearful that these young men were too familiar with his daughters. However, Willbewill was one who felt unwilling to put any man to death, so he didn't kill them right then but decided to put spies in place to see if the thing was true. He chose two servants, Find-Out and Tell-All, to see if they could catch the sons of Harmless-Mirth in such an uncivil manner more than once or twice.\n\nThese two faithful servants, Find-Out and Tell-All, did as their lord told them, and when Lord Willbewill had sufficient proof that the charges he'd heard were true, he took the two young Diabolians and brought them to Eye-gate, where he raised a very high cross right in front of Diabolus and his army. Upon this cross, he hung the young villains in defiance of Captain Past-Hope and the horrible standard he displayed.\n\nNow this Christian act of the brave Lord Willbewill humiliated Captain Past-Hope and discouraged the army of Diabolus. It put fear into the Diabolian rebels hiding out in Mansoul, while it strengthened and encouraged Emmanuel's captains and fortified the resolve of Mansoul to fight the army gathered outside the walls as well as the Diabolians in town, so they couldn't help Diabolus. This brave act of Lord Willbewill wasn't the only proof of his honest heart toward the town or his loyalty to his Prince, as I will show you soon enough.\n\nThe children of Prudent-Thrifty, who lived with Mr. Mind, were also left behind when Prudent-Thrifty was taken into custody. Their names were Gripe and Rake-All and they were born to Mr. Mind's illegitimate daughter, Ms. Hold-Fast-Bad.\n\nWhen these Diabolian children saw how Willbewill treated those who lived with him, they made plans to escape to avoid the same consequences. But that night, as they attempted to make their getaway, Mr. Mind found out about it. He took them captive and held them in custody in his house until morning. Then he remembered that according to the Law of Mansoul, all Diabolians were to die. So what did he do? He placed them in chains and led them to the same place where Willbewill hanged his two Diabolians earlier. Here, in the same manner, Mr. Mind hung those Diabolians from his house too.\n\nMr. Mind's action encouraged the townsmen and spurred them on to take more of the Diabolian troublers of Mansoul captive. However, the rest of the Diabolians lay so low they couldn't be apprehended. In their efforts against them, the town set up a diligent watch and every man returned to his place. (Watch diligently, and sin not; for some do not know God. – 1 Corinthians 15:34a)\n\nI told you a little earlier that Diabolus and his army were somewhat confused with shame and discouraged when they saw what Willbewill did, when he hung those two young Diabolians on the cross. But the tyrant's discouragement turned into intense madness and rage against the town of Mansoul. This fueled his determination to fight.\n\nBut the hopes and expectations of townsmen and captains within Mansoul heightened. They finally believed that the victory would be theirs, so they feared the Diabolians less. Their secondary preacher, Mr. Conscience, even delivered a sermon about it. His theme was based on the prophecy to Gad – Gad, an army shall invade him, but he shall invade at the last (Genesis 49:19). From this source, he showed Mansoul they would be confronted with terrible difficulty at first, but in the end, the victory would be Mansoul's.\n\nSo Diabolus commanded his drummer to beat a charge against the town. Inside the town, Emmanuel's captains had no drum, but they sounded a charge on trumpets of silver.\n\nThe armies from the camp of Diabolus marched on the town to take it. When the captains in the castle saw them, they ordered the slingers at Mouth-gate to put the attack into motion. Within Diabolus's camp, all that could be heard was horrible rage and blasphemy, while within the town, good words, prayer, and singing of psalms could be heard. (Be filled with the Spirit, speaking among yourselves with psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and praising the Lord in your hearts. – Ephesians 5:18-19)\n\nThe Captains Continue the Defence\n\nThe enemy responded with horrible protests, accompanied by the discordant beat of their drum, but the town answered in their own way with the slapping of their slings and the melodious noise of their trumpets. The fight lasted for several days, only stopping for an occasional short intermission, during which the townsmen refreshed themselves and the captains made ready for another assault.\n\nEmmanuel's captains were clad in silver armor, and the soldiers dressed in proven armor, while Diabolus's soldiers wore iron, which yielded to Emmanuel's engine-shot. Casualties in town included some who were slightly hurt and others who were gravely wounded. The scarcity of services of a surgeon in Mansoul because of Emmanuel's absence made matters worse. Nevertheless, with natural remedies made from the leaves of a tree, the wounded were kept from dying; however, their wounds putrefied.\n\nThe wounded townsmen included Lord Reason with a wound to the head, the brave Lord Mayor Understanding with an eye wound, and Mr. Mind with a wound around his stomach. The honest secondary preacher, Mr. Conscience, also took a shot not far from his heart, but none of these were mortal wounds. Many soldiers of lower stations, however, weren't just wounded but were slain outright.\n\nIn the camp of Diabolus the wounded and slain amounted to a considerable number. Among the wounded were Captain Rage and Captain Cruel. Captain Damnation was forced to retreat and entrench farther away from Mansoul. And that horrible standard flown by Diabolus was beaten down and his standard-bearer, Captain Much-Hurt, had his brains beaten out with a sling stone. This last casualty brought prince Diabolus much grief and shame.\n\nMany of the other Doubters were also slain, but even with the loss of many Doubters, enough were left alive to make Mansoul shake and falter. However, the victory that day belonged to Mansoul, which filled the townsmen and captains with courage. (For whatsoever is born of God overcomes the world; and this is the victory that overcomes the world, even our faith. – 1 John 5:4) In Diabolus's camp, it had a different effect. Mansoul's victory not only covered the camp with a cloud but also made them far more furious. So the next day Mansoul rested and commanded the bells be rung and the trumpets be joyfully sounded, and the captains shouted all around the town.\n\nWillbewill wasn't idle but performed service worthy of notice against the Diabolians who remained in the town. He kept them living in fear and dread, for he seized Mr. Anything. If you remember, he is the one who brought the three fellows to Diabolus, whom the Diabolians took captive from Captain Boanerges's troops. He is the one who persuaded them to enlist under the tyrant to fight against the army of Shaddai.\n\nLord Willbewill also captured a notable Diabolian by the name of Loose-Foot. He was a scout and messenger to the vagabonds in Mansoul. In the past, he carried news out of Mansoul to the camp and out of the camp to the enemies in Mansoul. Willbewill placed them in the custody of Mr. True-Man, the jailer, telling him to \"keep them in irons.\" His intentions were to have them crucified at a time best for the town and for the discouragement of the enemy camp.\n\nLord Mayor Understanding, while he couldn't move about as much as formerly because of the recent wound he'd received, still issued orders to all the natives of Mansoul. He said, \"Look to your watch and stand guard. When the opportunity arises, prove yourselves men.\" (The destroyer is risen up against thee: keep the fortress, watch the way, make thy loins strong, fortify thy power mightily. – Nahum 2:1)\n\nMr. Conscience, the preacher, did his best to keep all his good moral instruction kindled within the hearts of the people of Mansoul.\n\nThe captains and brave townsfolk of Mansoul agreed on a time to make an attack against the besiegers within the camp of Diabolus. \"It must take place at night,\" they determined. But this turned out to reveal a profound lack of understanding on the part of Mansoul, for the night is always best for the enemy and the worst for Mansoul to fight. Yet they determined this is what they would do, since they were filled with courage from the memory of their last victory.\n\nSo when darkness fell, the Prince's brave captains cast lots to decide who should lead the foremost division in this new and desperate expedition against Diabolus and his army. The lot to lead the mission of uncommon peril and little hope fell to Captain Credence, followed by Captain Experience and Captain Good-Hope. (Captain Experience was made a captain by the Prince Himself during the time He resided in the town of Mansoul.)\n\nSo they rushed upon the Diabolian army, which lay in siege against them. As it happened, they fell into battle not against a flank, the frontline, or at the rear of the troops, but came up against the main body of enemy forces.\n\nNow Diabolus and his men were experts at night work, so at the sound of the alarm, they were as instantly ready for battle as if they'd been sent word of their coming. They entered the sortie with their full force and strength. Hard-hitting blows landed on every side, while in the background the hell drum beat furiously, almost drowning out the sweet sound of the trumpets of the Prince. The two sides fought and Captain Insatiable looked to the enemy's conquests and acquisitions and eagerly waited for the right opportunity to pounce on available prey.\n\nThe Prince's captains fought bravely, beyond what could be expected of them. They suffered many wounded but forced the whole army of Diabolus to retreat. I can't tell you how they did it, but the brave Captain Credence, Captain Good-Hope, and Captain Experience were in full pursuit, cutting down the enemy in their path and following hard after the enemy in the rear as they fled.\n\nCaptain Credence stumbled, fell, and was so severely injured that he couldn't get up until Captain Experience helped him to his feet. The men with him were thrown into confusion, and as the captain came to his feet, the pain was so severe he couldn't suppress a scream of anguish. When the other two captains heard this, they thought it meant Captain Credence had received a mortal wound, and the two of them fainted. This stirred even more confusion among their men, who lost their desire to engage in the fight.\n\nEven though Diabolus was caught up in the height of the battle, he stayed observant. He noticed a halt among the men pursuing him and took it for granted that the captains were either wounded or dead, so he pounced on the opportunity to turn around to make his stand. He stood face to face with the Prince's army and came against them with as much fury as hell could provide him. He entered the mix at the very place the three captains, Captain Credence, Captain Good-Hope, and Captain Experience, were fighting, and the tyrant cut, wounded, and pierced them so dreadfully they had to battle their own discouragement, the confusion of their forces, and the loss of blood from their wounds just to get back to Mansoul. They never would have made it into the hold again if they didn't have the power of the three best hands in Mansoul.\n\nWhen the Prince's army saw how these three captains fared the worst, they thought it wise to make a safe retreat, so they ended their attempt to thwart the enemy and returned to Mansoul by the back gate.\n\nFlushed from this night's work, Diabolus promised himself to make an easy and complete conquest of the town of Mansoul within a few days. With his ambition at a fever pitch, the next day he marched up to the walls of Mansoul and demanded entrance. \"Deliver yourselves over to me now!\" he shouted. Within the walls, the Diabolians who lived in hiding took courage when they heard their master's voice, and they became somewhat lively, as you will see.\n\nBut the valiant Lord Mayor answered the tyrant. \"What you get of Mansoul will only be by force, for as long as Emmanuel, our Prince, is alive [though He wasn't currently with them as they wished], we will never agree to yield Mansoul up to another.\" (Watch ye, stand fast in the faith, be brave, be strong. – 1 Corinthians 16:13)\n\nUpon hearing Understanding's response, Lord Willbewill stood up and shouted out a response of his own. \"Diabolus, you master of the den and enemy to all that is good, we poor inhabitants of the town of Mansoul are well acquainted with your rule and government. We know with certainty how things will end for those who submit to you. The first time you came to us we lacked knowledge and permitted you to gain possession of us. We were like a bird that doesn't see the snare and falls into the hands of the fowler. However, things have changed since that time. We have turned from darkness to light and have turned from the power of Satan to God.\" (To open their eyes and to turn them from darkness to light and from the power of Satan unto God, that they may receive remission of sins and inheritance among those who are sanctified by the faith that is in me. – Acts 26:18)\n\nWillbewill stood a little straighter and gained even more boldness in his words. He said, \"It is through your cunning and the trickery of the Diabolians within the town that we have sustained much loss. We plunged ourselves into much embarrassment of mind from doubt and uncertainty. As a result, we gave ourselves up and laid down our arms to yield to so horrid a tyrant as you.\" Willbewill pointed an accusing finger toward the tyrant and said, \"We will not do so again. We'd rather die where we stand.\" He emphasized his words by thrusting his finger toward the ground on which he stood and arched one brow confidently. \"We have hope that in due time, deliverance will come from Shaddai's court to us, and we will continue our war against you.\" (When I am poor and needy; the Lord will remember me; thou art my help and my deliverer; make no tarrying, O my God. – Psalm 40:17)\n\nWillbewill's brave speech and that of the Lord Mayor Understanding somewhat diminished Diabolus's boldness. However, while it kindled the fury of his rage, it reassured the townsmen and captains and worked like a medicinal balm applied to the brave Captain Credence's wound. For a brave speech, after the captains of the town and their men of war came home defeated, and the enemy gathered courage and boldness to demand entrance, was perfect timing to be advantageous to the townsmen.\n\nLord Willbewill had contended from within the walls, while the captains and soldiers were in the field. He armed himself with others in the town, and whenever he spotted a Diabolian, they met with his heavy hand and the penetrating edge of his sword. He'd wounded many Diabolians, including Lord Cavil, Lord Brisk, Lord Pragmatic, and Lord Murmur; plus, he maimed several of the meaner sort too.\n\nWillbewill was able to accomplish this because the captains had gone out to fight the enemy in the field. And the Diabolians within the town thought they had the advantage, thinking, Now is our time to stir up trouble and cause an uproar in the town. The captains no sooner left with their troops than the Diabolians gathered as one and surged throughout the town of Mansoul like a hurricane.\n\nLord Willbewill took this opportunity to fall in among them with his men, cutting and slashing with undaunted courage. (I had fainted unless I had believed to see the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living. – Psalm 27:13) As soon as the Diabolians realized what was happening around them, they dispersed and hastened back to their holds.\n\nThis brave act of Willbewill somewhat avenged the wrong done by Diabolus to the captains, and it let the enemy know they wouldn't be leaving Mansoul because of the loss of a victory or two. Plus, his actions clipped the wings of the tyrant when it came to boasting, because the Diabolians had hoped to damage the town as much as he had harmed the captains.\n\nDiabolus didn't let that deter his plans though, for he determined to have another bout with Mansoul. He reasoned, Since I beat them once, I may beat them twice. Therefore, he commanded his men to be ready to make a fresh assault upon the town the next night. He ordered his officers and soldiers to turn all their force against Feel-gate to break into the town. \"If we break in upon them, as I hope we do, either with some or all our forces, let those who break in see to it that they never forget the word Hell-fire. Let it be heard throughout the town of Mansoul. 'Hell-fire! Hell-fire! Hell-fire!'\"\n\nThe drummer was told to beat his drum without a pause, and the standard-bearers were to display their colorful flags. The soldiers too were to take what courage they could and execute their part manfully against the town.\n\nWhen the sun set and darkness fell across the town, the tyrant had everything in place to make his move. Without hesitation, he assaulted Feel-gate, and after a struggle he threw the gate wide open. The truth be told, those gates were weak and the easiest to give way. Once Diabolus made it this far with his attempt, he placed his captains Torment and No-Ease there and attempted to press forward, but the Prince's captains fought him and made his entrance into Mansoul more difficult than he had hoped.\n\nThey did their best to resist, but with three of their finest and most valiant captains wounded and incapable of joining the foray, they were overpowered and couldn't keep the Doubters and their captains out of the town. When the Prince's men saw the truth of the matter, they and their captains moved to the castle – the stronghold of the town – partly for their own security and partly for the security of the town, but the biggest reason was to preserve the authority and privilege belonging to the sovereign Shaddai alone, for the castle of Mansoul belonged to Him.\n\nWhile the captains fled into the castle, the enemy met with little resistance, and they possessed the rest of the town and spread into every corner of Mansoul. As they marched, they cried out, \"Hell-fire! Hell-fire! Hell-fire!\" This caused such a ruckus that nothing else could be heard throughout the town of Mansoul except the dreadful noise of \"Hell-fire!\" paired with the thunder of Diabolus's drum.\n\nMansoul Is Taken\n\nBlack clouds hung over Mansoul like a shroud, leaving the Mansoulians to think all was ruined. Diabolus put his soldiers up in the houses of the inhabitants of the town of Mansoul. Even Mr. Conscience's house was full of these foreign Doubters – as many as it could hold, and the same held true for the house of Lord Mayor Understanding and that of Lord Willbewill.\n\nThe fact is, there wasn't a corner, cottage, barn, or pigsty that wasn't full of these vermin. They threw the men of the town out of their houses and made themselves comfortable, lying in their beds and sitting at their tables. Poor Mansoul! Now she felt the fruits of sin, including the venom in the flattering words of Carnal-Security. (Do not deceive yourselves; God is not mocked: for whatever a man sows that shall he also reap. – Galatians 6:7)\n\nThe enemy wreaked great havoc throughout the town. They started several fires, dashed young children to pieces, and even destroyed countless unborn children in their mothers' wombs. Many women, both young and old, were ravished and abused in a beastlike manner, so many lay dead in every street. But what else could you expect? The hearts of the enemy had no pity, kindness, tenderness, or compassion. Can anyone expect alien Doubters to determine right from wrong?\n\nAfter this dreadful night, Mansoul seemed to be nothing more than a den of dragons (a symbol of hell) and a place of total darkness, filled with nettles, briars, thorns, weeds, and stinking things. The town looked like a barren wilderness.\n\nThese Diabolian Doubters turned the men of Mansoul out of their beds, and they wounded and beat them. In fact, they almost dashed out the brains of many of them. Did I say many? I probably should say most, if not all of them. They wounded Mr. Conscience so badly that his wounds festered, and he couldn't rest day or night, but lay in continual pain like one tormented upon a rack. If it wasn't for the fact that Shaddai rules all, they would have slain him outright.\n\nThey abused Lord Mayor Understanding and almost put out his eyes. Thankfully, Lord Willbewill escaped into the castle, for they intended to chop him into pieces; they detested him now that his heart stood against Diabolus and his crew in Mansoul, for he'd proven himself a man for Shaddai and His Son. I promise you'll hear more of his exploits.\n\nThe town seemed somewhat deserted by the Mansoulians. A man could walk for days on end in Mansoul and scarcely see anyone in the town who looked like a God-fearing sort. Oh, the appalling condition of Mansoul! Every corner swarmed with Doubter soldiers who walked the town in clusters. They filled the houses with hideous noises, worthless songs, stories thick with lies, and blasphemous language against Shaddai and His Son. (For there is no uprightness in their mouth; their inward part is very wickedness; their throat is an open sepulcher; they flatter with their tongue. – Psalm 5:9)\n\nEven the Diabolians who lurked within the walls, dens, and holes around the town came out of hiding and walked openly in the company of the Doubters who now occupied Mansoul. Yes, Diabolus's recent victory gave them the boldness to walk the streets, hang out within the houses, and show themselves beyond the walls, while the honest inhabitants of the town did their best to remain unseen.\n\nThe Desolation of Mansoul\n\nChapter 26\n\nPetition to the Prince\n\nEven with his recent conquest, Diabolus and his rude men were not at peace in Mansoul. They weren't amused or pleased with how the captains and forces of Emmanuel were held up in the castle. They didn't like the stern looks given to them by the townsmen; after all, they didn't destroy any of the necessities of Mansoul, except those they seized against the townsmen's will. Now, the townspeople hid what they could from them, and what they couldn't hide, they held with an ill will. These poor hearts longed to have their own room rather than the company of these Doubters, but they were forced to be captives in their own homes. However, I have to say they discouraged them as much as possible and showed them all the disapproval they could.\n\nThe captains in the castle did what they could too. They employed their slings, much to the worrying and fretting of the enemies.\n\nDiabolus made a great-many attempts to break open the gates of the castle, but Godly-Fear, the gatekeeper, was a man of great courage, conduct, and valor. As long as Godly-Fear lived, all attempts to break into the castle were in vain. So even though Diabolus desired to break open those gates, all his attempts were fruitless. I have sometimes wished Godly-Fear would have had rule over the whole town of Mansoul.\n\nThe town of Mansoul remained in this pitiful condition for about two and a half years. The main army of the town stayed within the castle – the seat of war, while the people of the town were driven into holes; all this time the glory of Mansoul lay in the dust. This left the inhabitants with little rest under these circumstances; what peace could Mansoul have and how could the sun shine upon it?\n\nWith the enemy entrenched against the town outside the walls, it was enough to starve them. With the enemy living within the walls and their forts and entrenchment against the castle in the midst of the town, an inner struggle of the town against the town grew. (The LORD is my light and my salvation; ... Though a host should encamp against me, my heart shall not fear; though war should rise against me, in this will I be confident. – Psalm 27:1a, 3) The enemy made use of the forts and town holds to secure themselves, until they could take the spoil and demolish the castle. It was a terrible situation! But this was now the state of the town of Mansoul.\n\nAfter the town of Mansoul had remained in this sad and lamentable condition for a long time, and none of the petitions they presented to their Prince were answered, the elders and important inhabitants of the town gathered. They consoled each other regarding their miserable state and the miserable judgment upon them, and agreed to draw up yet another petition to send to Emmanuel for relief.\n\nHowever, Godly-Fear stood up in their midst and said, \"I know my Lord the Prince never has received nor ever will receive a petition for these matters from the hand of anyone, unless the Lord Secretary's signature is on it. And this,\" he folded his hands behind his back and rocked back and forth heel to toe, \"is the reason you haven't prevailed all this while.\" (And likewise also the Spirit helps our weakness; for we know not how to pray as we ought, but the Spirit itself makes entreaty for us with groanings which cannot be uttered. But he that searches the hearts knows what is the desire of the Spirit, that according to the will of God, he makes entreaty for the saints. – Romans 8:26-27)\n\n\"That's what we shall do,\" they said. \"We will draw one up and get the Lord Secretary's signature on it.\"\n\nGodly-Fear shook his head. \"The Lord Secretary won't set His hand to any petition that He doesn't have a hand in composing. Besides, the Prince knows the Lord Secretary's handwriting; He can't be deceived by any pretense whatsoever. Therefore, my advice is that you go to my Lord and beg Him to lend you His aid.\"\n\nNow the Lord Secretary still lived in the castle, where all the captains and men-at-arms were held up. So they all thanked Godly-Fear and took his advice. They hurried to the castle and came before the Lord Secretary to explain the reason they wanted to see Him. \"Since Mansoul is in such a deplorable condition, would Your Highness please undertake the drawing up of a petition for us to Emmanuel, the Son of the mighty Shaddai and to our King His Father?\"\n\nThe Secretary studied them for a moment and said, \"What petition would you have Me draw up for you?\"\n\nThey looked at one another, wondering where to start. \"Our Lord knows best the state and condition of the town of Mansoul,\" they said. \"You know we are backslidden and have slipped in the wrong direction, away from the Prince. You also know that Diabolus has come against us to wage war, and Mansoul has become the seat of that war. Likewise, my Lord knows the cruelty our men, women, and children have suffered at their hands and how our homebred Diabolians walk boldly in the streets while the townsmen dare not show themselves.\n\n\"Therefore, we pray that our Lord draw up a petition for His poor servants to our Prince Emmanuel according to the wisdom of God in Him.\"\n\nThe Lord Secretary nodded thoughtfully. \"I will draw up a petition for you and will sign My name to it.\"\n\nThose standing before the Lord Secretary gained hope. \"When shall we call for the petition from the hands of our Lord?\"\n\nHe answered, \"For the writing of this petition, you must be present, for you must include your desires in it.\" The men glanced at one another. The Lord Secretary said, \"True, the pen shall be Mine, and the signature will be Mine, but the ink and paper must be yours. Otherwise, how can you say it is your petition? After all, I have no need to petition for Myself, because I have not offended.\" He finished by saying, \"No petition goes from Me in My name to the Prince and to His Father, but I put My name to those sent by the people who are concerned and have joined heart and soul in the matter. That element must be inserted within the petition.\"\n\nHis words didn't discourage them in any way. Instead, they agreed with the Lord Secretary's decree, and a petition was drawn up for them. Then they were faced with the decision of who should carry it. The Secretary advised, \"Captain Credence should carry it, for he is well-spoken.\"\n\nThey called Captain Credence and proposed the idea of him carrying the petition to Shaddai and to His Son Emmanuel. After hearing their business, the captain said, \"Even though I am lame, I gladly accept and will accomplish this business for you with as much speed as I am able.\"\n\nThe purpose of the contents of the petition is as written:\n\n\"Our Lord, and Sovereign Prince Emmanuel, the powerful, the longsuffering Prince! Grace pours from Your lips and to You belong mercy and forgiveness, though we have rebelled against You. (Thou art fairer than the sons of men, grace is poured into thy lips; therefore God has blessed thee for ever. – Psalm 45:2) We who are not worthy to be called Your Mansoul or fit to share in commonplace benefits bestowed from Your hand, implore You and Your Father through You to do away with our transgressions against Your Law and commands. We agree we deserve to be driven away for these offenses but ask that You do not do so for Your name's sake. Instead, let the Lord use this opportunity to show His compassion and mercy toward our miserable condition. For Lord, we are surrounded on every side. Our own backslidings accuse us, as the Diabolians within our town frighten us; the army of the angel of the bottomless pit distresses us. Your grace is our salvation, for there is no place else to turn. (Be merciful unto me, O God, be merciful unto me: for my soul trusts in thee; and in the shadow of thy wings I will make my refuge until these calamities are overpast. – Psalm 57:1)\n\n\"Furthermore, gracious Prince, we have weakened our captains. They are discouraged, sick, and some of them were beaten in battle and hammered from the field by the power and force of the tyrant Diabolus. We used to put our confidence in these captains and their valor, and now they are wounded men.\n\n\"While our captains are in such poor shape, Lord, our enemies are energetic and strong. They show off and boast, as they threaten to divide us among them as if we are booty. And they have not come alone, Lord, but have thousands of Doubters with them, and we don't know what to do about them! They all move about with a stern, unmerciful countenance and declare defiance against us and You.\n\n\"Our wisdom is gone. Our power is drained, because You have departed from us. We have nothing we can count on. What we do have is our sin, shame, and a confused look on our faces. We don't know what to do. Please, Lord, take pity upon us, Your miserable town of Mansoul. Save us out of the hands of our enemies. Amen.\" (For my enemies are alive, and they are strong, and those that hate me wrongfully are multiplied; ... Forsake me not, O LORD; O my God, be not far from me. Make haste to help me, O Lord my salvation. – Psalm 38:19, 21-22)\n\nAs mentioned before, the Lord Secretary crafted and signed this petition; it was then delivered to the court by the brave and most valiant Captain Credence. To accomplish this, he left by Mouth-gate – the back gate of the town. From there, he made his way to the court and handed the message to Emmanuel.\n\nNow, somehow news of this petition being carried to Emmanuel reached the ears of Diabolus. The tyrant charged Mansoul with what he considered treachery. He said, \"You rebellious and stubborn-hearted Mansoul, I will force you to stop petitioning.\" He raised an angry, clenched fist and shook it at them. \"I promise you – I will make you stop!\"\n\nI'm not sure how he received his information, but he knew the valiant Captain Credence was the messenger who carried the petition to the Prince. This knowledge made him fearful and filled him with rage. He commanded his drummer, \"Start beating the drum again!\" Mansoul couldn't bear the sound, but they had no choice. When Diabolus ordered his drum to beat, Mansoul was forced to put up with the noise. As a result, the drum pounded its wretched beat, and the Diabolians gathered together.\n\nDiabolus stood before his men and called out in a loud voice, \"O you brave Diabolians, let it be known that the rebellious town of Mansoul has hatched treachery against us. Although the town is in our possession, these miserable Mansoulians have dared to send to the court for Emmanuel's help.\" His chest heaved with each angry breath. \"This I tell you so you can understand what we are up against, and so you will know how to treat the wretched town of Mansoul.\n\n\"My trusted Diabolians, I command you to distress Mansoul more and more. Vex it with your deception and duplicity, ravish their women, take their virgins by force, slay their children, dash in the brains of their old men, burn their town, and cause whatever other harm you can think of.\" He raised his arms in a show of power as he clenched his fists. \"Let this be the reward of the Mansoulians from me, for their desperate rebellions against me.\" He pumped his fists into the air to make his point.\n\nThis, you see, is what he threatened, but something stepped in between the delivery of this warning and its execution. At this point, little more was done than for him to vent his rage. Then Diabolus went up to the castle gates and demanded that, upon pain of death, the gates be opened to him and entrance granted to him and his men.\n\nGodly-Fear, who had charge of that gate, replied, \"The gate will not be opened to you or the men who followed after you.\" Then he said, \"When Mansoul has suffered a while, she will be made perfect, strengthened, and settled.\" (And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee; for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly, therefore, I will rather glory in my weaknesses that the power of Christ may dwell in me. Therefore I am content in weaknesses, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ's sake, for when I am weak, then am I strong. – 2 Corinthians 12:9-10)\n\nDiabolus said, \"Then deliver the men to me who have petitioned against me, especially Captain Credence, who carried your most recent petition to your Prince. Deliver that rascal into my hands, and I will depart from the town.\"\n\nThen a Diabolian named Mr. Fooling started up. \"What my lord offers you is fair. It is better for you that one man perish, than your whole Mansoul be destroyed.\" (And one of them, named Caiaphas, being the high priest that same year, said unto them, Ye know nothing at all nor consider that it is expedient for us that one man should die for the people, and not that the whole nation be lost. – John 11:49-50)\n\nGodly-Fear replied, \"When Mansoul has given up her faith to Diabolus, how long will she be kept out of the dungeon? If we lose Captain Credence, it's as good as losing the town of Mansoul, because if one goes to Diabolus, the other must follow.\"\n\nAt this, Mr. Fooling said nothing.\n\nLord Mayor Understanding spoke up next. \"You devouring tyrant! Let this be clear. We won't listen to any of your words. We are determined to resist you as long as a captain, a man, a sling, or a stone can be found in the town of Mansoul.\"\n\nDiabolus glared at the Mayor with hooded eyes. \"Do you hope, do you wait, do you look for help and deliverance? You have sent to Emmanuel, but your wickedness clings to you. It is too close to let innocent prayers come out of your lips. Do you really think you will prevail and succeed in this plan? I'm telling you that you will fail in your wish and in your attempts, because I'm not the only one against you. Don't forget your Emmanuel is against you too. He is the one who sent me against you in the first place. Knowing this, what is it you hope for? Or by what means do you think you will you escape?\"\n\nThe Lord Understanding wasn't gullible enough to believe the tyrant's lies. He said, \"We have sinned, but that won't help you. In great faithfulness, our Emmanuel has said he that comes to me I will in no wise cast out (John 6:37). He has also told us that all manner of sin and blasphemy shall be forgiven unto men (Matthew 12:31). For this reason we dare not despair, but will look for, wait for, and hope for deliverance.\"\n\nBy this time, Captain Credence had returned from his errand to the court and had delivered the petition to Emmanuel; he returned to the castle of Mansoul with a packet. So when the Lord Mayor heard Captain Credence had arrived, he withdrew from the noise of the roaring tyrant and left him to yell at the wall or against the gates of the castle. He hurried to the captain's lodgings, greeted Captain Credence, and asked him, \"How did you fare? What news do you bring from the court?\"\n\nTears brimmed in Captain Credence's eyes. He said, \"Cheer up, my lord, for everything will be well in time.\" With that, he produced his packet of letters from Emmanuel and laid it down in front of them. The Lord Mayor and the rest of the captains took this as a sign of good news. They glanced at one another with hope that a season of grace had arrived. Understanding sent for all the captains and elders of the town who were scattered here and there in various rooms throughout the castle and for their guard. He wanted all of them to know Captain Credence had returned, and he had something special to tell them.\n\nThey gathered around Captain Credence, greeted him, and asked about his journey. \"What's the good news from the court?\"\n\nHe gave them the same answer he'd offered to Lord Understanding earlier. \"Everything will be well in the end.\" (Ye that love the LORD are to hate evil; he preserves the souls of his saints; he delivers them out of the hand of the wicked. – Psalm 97:10).\n\nOnce the captain greeted everyone who gathered around him, he opened his packet and drew out several letters. The first letter was for the Lord Mayor. Within this note, Emmanuel said He was well pleased that Lord Mayor Understanding had remained true and trustworthy in his office, even with the great concerns which lay upon him for the town and people of Mansoul. In the letter, He told Understanding that He was happy with the fact that he acted boldly for his Prince Emmanuel and had engaged faithfully in His cause against Diabolus. At the close of His letter, He mentioned the mayor would receive his reward shortly.\n\nThe second letter pulled from the packet was for the noble Lord Willbewill. This letter made it clear that Prince Emmanuel understood how valiant and courageous he had served for the honor of his Lord in His absence when His name was held in contempt by Diabolus. His Prince also expressed delight in his faithfulness to the town of Mansoul and how he kept strict watch over it. He said He appreciated Willbewill's firm restraint upon the necks of the Diabolians who lurked in several places around Mansoul. This letter indicated He considered Willbewill to be a good example to the whole town of Mansoul, because he had executed some of the chief Diabolian rebels by his own hand, which generated great discouragement among the enemy camp. He finished by stating Willbewill should have his reward shortly.\n\nThe third letter plucked from the packet was for the preacher, Mr. Conscience. It said his Prince was well pleased with him, for he had honestly and faithfully performed his responsibilities and fulfilled the trust committed to him by his Lord. He accomplished this when he exhorted, rebuked, and forewarned Mansoul according to the laws of the town. (Preach the word; be instant in season and out of season; reprove, rebuke, exhort with all longsuffering and doctrine. – 2 Timothy 4:2) He admitted it made him happy that Mr. Conscience had called for fasting, sackcloth, and ashes when Mansoul lived in her rebellion, and that had he called for the aid of Captain Boanerges to help in such important work. The letter closed by saying he would shortly receive his reward.\n\nIn the fourth letter, written to Mr. Godly-Fear, his Lord said that He had observed all he had accomplished. This included the fact that he was the first of all the men in Mansoul who detected the presence of Carnal-Security and his cunning, and identified a falling away and a decay of goodness in the blessed town of Mansoul because of Diabolus. His Lord let him know He still remembered his tears and mourning for the state of Mansoul. The letter mentioned how Godly-Fear took notice when Carnal-Security sat at his table among his guests. He had detected Carnal-Security in his own house in the midst of his jolliness, even while he sought to perfect his crimes against the town of Mansoul. Emmanuel took notice that Godly-Fear stood against all the threats and attempts of the tyrant at the gates of the castle. He had also recommended the townsmen make their petition to their Prince in a way that He might accept it and they might obtain an answer of peace. The letter closed with the Prince saying, \"Therefore, shortly you will receive your reward.\" (Rejoice ye in that day and leap for joy; for, behold, your reward is great in heaven, for their fathers treated the prophets in the same manner. – Luke 6:23)\n\nAfter this, a letter to the whole town of Mansoul was read. It said that their Lord noticed their repeated petitions to Him. He offered encouraging news. In the future, they would see more fruits for such efforts. In this letter, their Prince said, \"I am pleased your heart and mind are at last fixed upon Me and My ways even though Diabolus has made inroads upon the town.\" It pleased Him that neither flatteries nor hardships could make them concede to take part in his cruel schemes.\n\nAt the bottom of this letter, the Prince added that He had left the town of Mansoul in the hands of the Lord Secretary and under the guidance of Captain Credence. He said, \"Beware that you continue to yield yourselves to their authority and direction, and in due time you shall receive your reward.\"\n\nCaptain Credence Delivers the Letters\n\nAfter the brave Captain Credence delivered the letters to each recipient, he withdrew to the Lord Secretary's quarters where the two of them spent time talking. These two were well acquainted with one another and knew more how things would go with Mansoul than any of the townsmen. The Lord Secretary often showed His love for Captain Credence by sending him many good bits from my Lord's table as a show of good will, while the rest of Mansoul lay under the clouds.\n\nAfter the two of them conversed for some time, the captain said good-night and went to his chambers to rest. He had barely laid his head upon the pillow when the Lord Secretary sent for him again. He hurried through the castle halls and returned to the Lord Secretary's quarters. They greeted one another in the usual way, but the captain quickly asked, \"Why did you send for me? Tell me, has something happened?\"\n\nLord Secretary took him into his room away from the door and said, \"I've made you the Lord's lieutenant over all the forces in Mansoul.\" His countenance shined with joy as He shared the news. \"From this day forward, all men in Mansoul shall act upon your word, and you will be the one who leads in and out of Mansoul. Therefore, you shall manage the war for your Prince and for the town of Mansoul against the force and power of Diabolus. The rest of the captains will be at your command.\"\n\nCaptain Credence Made the Lord's Lieutenant\n\nNow the townsmen noticed the captain's part in both the court and with the Lord Secretary in Mansoul. No man had ever succeeded when sent on this task, nor was any other able to bring such good news from Emmanuel like him. After some weeping, they decided not to bother him with their distresses, but turned to Mr. Conscience to make known their concerns to the Lord Secretary, and let Him know they desired all they were and had to be under the control, care, custody, and authority of Captain Credence. (For the magistrates are not a terror unto those who do good, but to the doer of evil. Is thy desire therefore to not fear the power? do that which is good, and thou shalt have praise of the same; for he is a minister of God for thy good. – Romans 13:3-4a)\n\nSo their preacher, Mr. Conscience, did as they requested and received this answer from the mouth of the Lord Secretary: \"Captain Credence will be the great doer in all the King's army against the King's enemies and for the welfare of Mansoul.\"\n\nUpon receiving this message, Mr. Conscience bowed to the ground, thanked his Lordship, returned to the townsfolk, and delivered his news. This was accomplished with all imaginable secrecy, because the adversaries still had great strength within the town. But I have strayed somewhat from the story, so let's return to where I left off.\n\nChapter 27\n\nPlans to Take the Castle\n\nWhen the Lord Mayor Understanding boldly confronted Diabolus, and the tyrant observed the bravery of Godly-Fear, he fell into a rage. He called a council of war in order to get revenge on Mansoul. All the princes of the pit gathered with old Incredulity at the head of them and all the captains of his army. They consulted as to what to do. The council concluded they must determine how to take the castle, because they couldn't claim to be masters of the town as long as their enemies had possession of it.\n\nWith so many involved in the decision-making, one advised this way and another advised that, but they couldn't agree. Apollyon, as president of the council, stood up and addressed the others. \"My brotherhood,\" he said, \"I have two things to propose to you. First, let's withdraw our forces from the town into the plain again. Our presence here does us no good, because the castle is in our enemies' hands. Neither is it possible for us to take the castle as long as so many brave captains reside in it. And that bold fellow, Godly-Fear, has been made the keeper of the castle gates.\"\n\nApollyon dismissed the skeptical glances from his fellow fiends and pressed on with his idea. \"When we have withdrawn into the plain, they will be glad and be a little more at ease. It may be that once they let their guard down a little, they may become careless again and open the opportunity for us to deliver a bigger blow than we can possibly give them now. But if that plan should fail, our going forth out of the town might draw the captains out after us. Remember what it cost them the last time we fought them in the field? We can do more than just draw them into the field; we can lay an ambush behind the town. When they come out after us, we will rush in and take possession of the castle.\"\n\nBeelzebub stood up, and by the scowl on his face it was clear he did not agree. He said, \"It is impossible to draw them all from the castle. You can be sure some will stay behind to keep possession of the castle. Therefore, such an attempt will be in vain, unless we can be sure they will all come out to chase after us.\"\n\nThe Council of the Evil Ones\n\nApollyon gave him a cold stare, but Beelzebub ignored it. He said, \"Whatever we do will have to be accomplished by some other means. I say we invent a way to get the townsmen to sin again. You see, it's not our being in the town or in the field, and it isn't our fighting or our killing of their men that can make us the masters of Mansoul. For as long as there is even one person left in the town who is able to lift his finger against us, Emmanuel will take their side.\" He took a deep breath and let it out with a hiss. \"If He takes their side, we know what that means for us. That's why, as far as I'm concerned, there's no way to bring them into bondage to us like inventing a way to make them sin.\" (Watch ye and pray; enter not into temptation. The spirit truly is ready, but the flesh is sick. – Mark 14:38) He let that sink in as he idly picked something from one of his talons. \"If we had left all our Doubters at home, we would have done as well as we have done now, unless we could have made them the masters and governors of the castle. Doubters at a distance are like objections maintained by a fallacious argument.\n\n\"The question is, can we get them into the fortress and make them possessors of it? The day we accomplish that, the castle will be ours. Therefore, let us withdraw into the plain, but not because we expect the captains in Mansoul to follow us. Instead, before we do this, let us talk with our trusted Diabolians who hide away in their holds of Mansoul and put them to work to betray the town to us. We surely need their help to pull this off; otherwise, it will be left undone forever.\"\n\nBy the time Beelzebub finished talking, the whole conclave agreed that the way to take the castle was to get the town to sin. With the beginning of a plan in place, they put their heads together to devise the best strategy to accomplish this goal.\n\nLucifer stood and said, \"The advice of Beelzebub is sound. The way to bring this to pass, in my opinion, is for us to withdraw our forces from the town of Mansoul.\" He transformed his visage to appear as an angel of light and said, \"Let us do this and terrify them no longer, whether by summons, threats, or even the noise of our drum or any other rousing means. Let us lull them into thinking we are not a threat; only let us lie in wait in the field at a distance as though we do not care about them, for frightening them would only make them take up arms. I have also thought of another strategy to work in conjunction with this.\n\n\"You know Mansoul is a market town that delights in commerce. What if some of our Diabolians pretend to be from a faraway country and bring some of our wares to sell at the market of Mansoul? It doesn't matter how much they sell, even if it's for half the value. Let those who enter their market to trade be those who are clever and true to us. To fund this endeavor, I offer to take off my crown and to pawn it.\n\n\"I can think of two whom I think will be cunning, sly, and shrewd enough for this work. They are Mr. Penny-wise-pound-foolish and Mr. Get-i'the-hundred-and-lose-i'the-shire. This man with the long name is in no way inferior to the other. I'm also thinking we should add Mr. Sweet-World and Mr. Present-Good to the bunch. These men are civil and cunning, but they are our true friends and helpers. I say we let these men and many more engage in this marketplace business for us; Mansoul will be caught up in business and will grow to be full and rich. In this way we'll gain ground on them.\"\n\nA few of his cohorts cast dubious glances in his direction. He thwarted their concerns by saying, \"Don't you remember? This is how we prevailed upon Laodicea. (Because thou sayest, I am rich and increased with goods and have need of nothing and knowest not that thou art wretched and miserable and poor and blind and naked. – Revelation 3:17) And how many do we currently hold in this snare? I am telling you, when they begin to grow full and satisfied, they will forget their misery. And if we don't frighten them in any way, they may be lulled to sleep; they will let down their guard and neglect their close watch over the town, castle, and even their gates.\n\n\"If we load Mansoul with such abundance, it may force them to turn their castle into a warehouse instead of a garrison fortified against us. If the castle is filled with our goods and commodities and is no longer a depot for men of war, I predict that the castle will be more than half ours.\n\n\"Think of it this way. If we ordered the castle to be filled with all such manner of wares, then when we made an assault upon them, it would be hard for the captains to take shelter there. Remember the parable that says, 'The deceitfulness of riches choke the word'? (And the cares of this world and the deceitfulness of riches and the lusts of other things entering in choke the word, and it becomes unfruitful. – Mark 4:19) And again, 'When the heart is overcharged with gluttony and drunkenness and the cares of this life, all harm comes upon them unawares'?\" (And take heed to yourselves, lest at any time your hearts be overcharged with excess and drunkenness and cares of this life, and so that day come upon you unawares. – Luke 21:34)\n\nLucifer smiled smugly at his ingenious plan. \"Furthermore, my lords, you know very well it isn't easy for people to be filled with our things without having some of our Diabolians kept as attendants within their houses to provide services. Show me a Mansoulian who is full of this world that doesn't have servants and men to wait upon them like Mr. Profuse, Mr. Prodigality, or some of our other Diabolian gang, such as Mr. Voluptuous, Mr. Pragmatical, Mr. Ostentation, or the like.\n\n\"Any of these can take the castle of Mansoul, blow it up, or make it unfit for a garrison for Emmanuel, and any of these will do. For all I know, these Diabolians might accomplish it sooner than an army of twenty thousand men. So my advice is that we quietly withdraw, offer no further resistance, and make no forcible attempts upon the castle – at least at this time.\" He paused to make his point. \"I say we put our new project into action and see if that won't cause them to destroy themselves.\"\n\nAll the others highly applauded this advice to choke Mansoul with a fullness of this world and flood her heart with the good things in it. (Love not the world neither the things that are in the world. If anyone loves the world, the charity of the Father is not in him. – 1 John 2:15) They thought it such a good plan that they declared it the masterpiece of hell. But just as this Diabolian council broke up, Captain Credence received a letter from Emmanuel, and this is the message it contained: Upon the third day, He would meet him in the field in the plains around Mansoul.\n\nChapter 28\n\nBattle on the Plains\n\nCaptain Credence cupped his chin and asked, \"Meet him in the field? What does my Lord mean by this? I don't understand.\" He carried the note to the Lord Secretary, because He was a seer in all matters concerning the King and for the good and comfort of the town of Mansoul. Captain Credence showed the note to the Lord Secretary and said, \"I don't understand what this means, and I'd like Your opinion.\"\n\nSo the Lord High Secretary took the note and read it. Following a short pause, He said, \"The Diabolians have met together against Mansoul today. They held an important meeting, the purpose of which was to plot the utter ruin of the town. The result of their meeting is a plan to place Mansoul in such a predicament that it will surely destroy herself. First, they are preparing for their own departure out of the town. They intend to take to the field and lie there in wait until they see whether their plan will work or not.\n\n\"Make ready with the men of Your Lord to fall upon the Diabolians, for on the third day they will be in the plain. By daybreak or before, the Prince will be in that field with a mighty force. He shall be there before the Diabolians, and you will be behind them; between the two armies they shall be destroyed.\"\n\nWhen Captain Credence heard this, he hurried to inform the rest of the captains. He explained to them about the note he received from the hand of Emmanuel. \"And, while my understanding regarding the meaning of the note was darkened, the Lord Secretary explained it to me.\" (Which things also we speak, not in the words which man's wisdom teaches, but with doctrine of the Holy Spirit. – 1 Corinthians 2:13) He went on to clarify what each of them must do to accomplish the will of their Lord.\n\nThe captains were glad to receive direction from their Lord. To start, Captain Credence commanded all the King's trumpeters to climb to the battlements of the castle, and in the hearing of Diabolus and the whole town of Mansoul, to play the best music the heart could invent. The trumpeters did as they were commanded and climbed to the top of the castle. Once settled there, they began to play.\n\nThe sounds startled Diabolus who said, \"What can this mean? These sounds are not a summons for soldiers to mount their horses, to ride away, or to charge. What do these madmen mean by playing music so merry and glad?\"\n\nOne among them said, \"This music isn't an alarm but an expression of joy because their Prince Emmanuel is coming to free the town of Mansoul, and He is at the head of an army – and this relief is near.\"\n\nThe melodious charm of the trumpets also concerned the men of Mansoul. Among themselves they said, \"This can't hurt us, can it? Surely this won't cause us harm.\"\n\nWhile this was going on, the Diabolians also discussed how to proceed. \"What's best for us to do?\"\n\nThis question was answered with, \"It is best to leave the town.\"\n\nAnother nodded. \"This follows the advice offered at our last meeting. By leaving, we will be better able to fight the enemy in battle if an army should come against us from outside the walls.\"\n\nSo, on the second day, they withdrew from Mansoul and lived in the plains outside of the town. They settled before Eye-gate in a vile manner meant to create all the dread and terror they could. The reason they wouldn't stay in the town (besides the reasons debated in their latest conclave) was that they were not in possession of the stronghold and \"because it will be more suitable for us to fight and to flee, when we camp in the open plains.\" If they stayed in the town, it would make their role in the battle more offensive rather than defensive, if the Prince came and fenced them in within the walls. So they moved to the open field out of the reach of the slings, which frustrated them the entire time they were in the town.\n\nWhen the time arrived for the captains to attack the Diabolians, they prepared for action. The night before, Captain Credence told the captains, \"You shall see the Prince in the field tomorrow.\" This news made them all the more eager to engage the enemy, like adding oil to a flaming fire, and it stirred quite a fervor. They had waited at a distance for a long time, which made them all the more earnest and eager to get to work. (Our soul waited for the LORD; he is our help and our shield. Therefore our heart shall rejoice in him because we have trusted in the name of his holiness. Let thy mercy, O LORD, be upon us, according as we have waited upon thee. – Psalm 33:20-22)\n\nSo, as I said, the hour arrived. Captain Credence, with the rest of the men of war, drew out their forces before dawn by the back gate of the town. Being prepared to move forward with the attack, Captain Credence went up to the head of the army and gave the word to the rest of the captains. Each of them passed on the word to their under-officers and soldiers by saying, \"The sword of Prince Emmanuel and the shield of Captain Credence,\" which in the Mansoulian tongue means, \"The Word of God and faith.\" Then the captains plunged forward and began rounding to the front, flank, and rear of Diabolus's camp.\n\nNow, when they departed from the town, they left Captain Experience behind, because he was still recovering from his wounds, which the Diabolians had inflicted in the last fight. But when he realized the captains had moved out without him, what did he do? He called for his crutches, for he said to himself, \"Shall I lie here, when my brothers are in the fight, and when Emmanuel, the Prince, shows Himself to His servants in the field?\"\n\nHe got up and clambered toward the battle, crutches and all. The enemy spotted him hobbling along, and the site unsettled them even more, For, they thought, what spirit has possessed these Mansoulians, that they fight us upon their crutches?\n\nAs I said, the captains moved forward against the enemy and fell on them. They cried out and shouted as they landed their blows. \"The sword of Prince Emmanuel and the shield of Captain Credence!\"\n\nNow, when Diabolus saw the captains had come out and surrounded his men, he concluded that they could expect nothing from them but blows and marks caused by their two-edged swords. (For the word of God is alive and efficient and sharper than any twoedged sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, and of the joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart. – Hebrews 4:12) Therefore, he mustered his forces and fell upon the Prince's army with all his deadly strength; so the two sides clashed in battle.\n\nDiabolus met Captain Credence first in the fight on the one side and Lord Willbewill on the other. Willbewill's blows were like those of a giant. He had a strong arm, and he struck the Doubters who served as the guards who protected Diabolus. He engaged them in battle for a good while, cutting and battering shrewdly. Now when Captain Credence saw Willbewill engaged in this manner, he did the same to the company of Doubters on the other side of the fight. Between them, they created a great tumult.\n\nCaptain Good-Hope had engaged the career Doubters and found them to be strong and rugged men. But the captain showed himself to be a strong and courageous man, and Captain Experience even sent him some aid, so he forced the professional Doubters to retreat.\n\nThe rest of the armies were hotly engaged on every side. The Diabolians fought bravely, but then Lord Secretary commanded the slings from the castle to attack, because his men could throw stones at a hair's breadth. At first, this caused many of the Doubters and Diabolians to flee before the captains of the Prince, but they soon rallied and came up against the rear flank of the Prince's army. Though the Prince's army grew faint, they drew on the knowledge that they would see the face of their Prince soon, and took courage and fought a very fierce battle. (As for me, I will behold thy face in righteousness; I shall be satisfied when I awake with thy likeness. – Psalm 17:15)\n\nThe Sword of Lord Willbewill and the Shield of Captain Credence\n\nThe captains shouted, \"The sword of Prince Emmanuel and the shield of Captain Credence!\" and with that, Diabolus withdrew, thinking more aid had arrived. But Emmanuel still did not appear. Because the outcome of the battle hung in doubt, both sides made a little retreat.\n\nDuring this break, Captain Credence encouraged his men to stand firm and remain courageous and strong. (Be strong and of a good courage; fear not, nor be afraid of them, for the LORD thy God is he that doth go with thee; he will not fail thee nor forsake thee. – Deuteronomy 31:6) Diabolus did the same, but it was nothing like the bold speech Captain Credence made to his soldiers.\n\nHe said, \"Gentlemen soldiers, and my brothers in this plan, I rejoice to see such a brave and valiant army and such faithful lovers of Mansoul in the field for our Prince this day. You have shown yourselves to be men of truth and courage against the Diabolian forces. They don't have much cause to boast about their accomplishments. Now gather your usual courage and prove yourselves men one more time. After the next engagement, you will see your Prince in the field. First, we must make this second assault upon this tyrant Diabolus, and then Emmanuel comes.\"\n\nNo sooner had the captain finished this speech to his soldiers than Mr. Speedy came with a message to the captain from the Prince to tell him Emmanuel was near. When the captain received this news, he passed it on to the other field officers, and they to their soldiers and men of war. The effect of this news was as though men had been raised from the dead, for the captains and their men arose with renewed determination and made their way back to the enemy. Again, they cried out as before, \"The sword of Prince Emmanuel and the shield of Captain Credence!\" (Above all, taking the shield of faith, with which ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked. And take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. – Ephesians 6:16-17)\n\nThe Diabolians rallied and resisted as well as they could, but in this last engagement the Diabolians lost their courage. Many dead Doubters lay scattered across the ground. They had been in the heat of battle for about an hour or more, when Captain Credence lifted his eyes, and behold, he saw Emmanuel arrive. He came with flags flying and trumpets sounding. The feet of His men scarcely touched the ground, as they hurried with great speed toward the captains engaged in the fight.\n\nCredence moved with his men toward the town and gave the field to Diabolus, so the enemy found himself between Emmanuel on the one side and the captains and their forces on the other. The fighting began again. It didn't take long before Emmanuel and Captain Credence met, still trampling the slain as they came.\n\nBut when the captains saw that the Prince had come, and He fell upon the Diabolians, and Captain Credence and his Highness had trapped them between them, they shouted, \"The sword of Emmanuel and the shield of Captain Credence!\" and the ground split again.\n\nWhen Diabolus saw he and his forces were hard-pressed by the Prince and His princely army, what did he and the lords of the pit do? They made their escape and abandoned their army. They just left them to fall by the hand of Emmanuel and His noble Captain Credence. And that's exactly what happened. They all fell slain before the Prince and His royal army. Their bodies lay spread upon the ground, as one would spread dung upon the land. Not even one Doubter remained alive.\n\nChapter 29\n\nEmmanuel Restored to Mansoul\n\nWith the battle over, everything within the camp fell into order. The captains and elders of Mansoul gathered outside the community to greet Emmanuel. They hailed and welcomed Him with a thousand welcomes, because He had returned to the borders of Mansoul.\n\nHe said, \"Peace be to you.\" Then they turned, and the Prince and all the new forces He brought with Him went up to Mansoul. The gates of the town and the gates of the castle stood open to receive Him, and all the people rejoiced to see His blessed return.\n\nThe elders of the town of Mansoul stood at the gates of the town to welcome Him as He entered. One-half of the elders and the people sang out, \"Lift up your heads, O you gates, and be lifted up, you everlasting doors, and the King of glory shall come in!\" (Lift up your heads, O ye gates; and lift yourselves up, ye everlasting doors, and the King of glory shall come in. Who is this King of glory? The LORD strong and mighty, the LORD mighty in battle. – Psalm 24:7-8)\n\nThe other half of the people answered, \"Who is the King of glory?\"\n\nThe first side responded, \"The Lord, strong and mighty; the Lord mighty in battle. Lift up your heads, O you gates; even lift them up, you everlasting doors.\"\n\nThen those of Mansoul put forth an order that the way from the town gates to the castle gates should be filled with song to worship His blessed Majesty. The most skilled musicians in all the town of Mansoul were called to perform, while the elders and the rest of the men of Mansoul answered one another in song as Emmanuel entered the town. They continued with songs accompanied by the sound of trumpets. \"Your procession, God, has come into view, the procession of my God and King into the sanctuary,\" they sang. So the singers went before those playing instruments, followed by maidens playing on timbrels. They did this until He reached the castle gates. (The singers went before, the players on instruments followed after; in between them were the virgins playing with timbrels. Bless ye God in the congregations, even the Lord, ye of the lineage of Israel. – Psalm 68:25-26)\n\nThen the captains waited on the Prince as He entered into the gates of Mansoul. Captain Credence went first with Captain Good-Hope. Captain Charity followed behind with his companions, and Captain Patience followed after them all. The rest of the captains, some on the right hand and some on the left, accompanied Emmanuel into Mansoul.\n\nThey marched into town with flags displayed, trumpets sounding, and the soldiers shouting. Dressed in His armor made from beaten gold, the Prince rode into town in His chariot beneath a purple covering. The supports of His chariot were silver, with the bottom crafted from pure gold and the center overlaid with love for the daughters of the town of Mansoul.\n\nWhen the Prince arrived at the entrance of Mansoul, He found all the streets strewn with lilies and flowers, unusually decked with boughs and branches from the green trees that stood about the town. Every house stood adorned in the same way with a singular excellence and unity to show hospitality to the Prince. As He passed through the streets, the people stood in the doors of their homes and welcomed Him with shouts and acclamations of joy: \"Blessed be the Prince who comes in the name of His Father Shaddai!\" (And many spread their garments in the way, and others cut down leaves off the trees and spread them in the way. And those that went before and those that followed cried out, saying, Hosanna; Blessed is he that comes in the name of the Lord. – Mark 11:8-9)\n\nAt the castle gates, the elders of Mansoul, namely, the Lord Mayor, Lord Willbewill, the secondary preacher, Mr. Knowledge, and Mr. Mind, with others of the gentry greeted Emmanuel again. They bowed before Him, kissed the dust off His feet, and thanked, blessed, and praised His Highness for not holding their sins against them and for showing pity upon them in their misery. They thanked Him for returning to them with mercies to build Mansoul up forever. He headed straight to the castle, because that was the royal palace prepared for His Highness by the presence of the Lord Secretary and the work of Captain Credence. This was where His honor was to dwell. So He entered in.\n\nAll classes of people of the town of Mansoul came into the castle to Him to mourn, weep, and wail for their wickedness that had forced Him out of the town. When they came before Him, they bowed to the ground seven times and wept and wept aloud, asking forgiveness of the Prince. With their lament, they prayed He would once again confirm His love for Mansoul.\n\nThe eminent Prince looked upon them with great love and said, \"Don't weep, but go your way. Eat the best and drink that which is pleasing to taste and send portions to those who have nothing prepared, for the joy of your Lord is your strength. I have returned to Mansoul with mercies, and My name shall be set up, exalted, and magnified by it.\" (This day is holy unto the LORD your God; do not mourn nor weep. For all the people wept when they heard the words of the law. Then he said unto them, Go, eat the fat, and drink sweet wine, and send portions unto those who have nothing prepared; for this day is holy unto our Lord, and not sad; for the joy of the LORD is your strength. – Nehemiah 8:9b-10) He even kissed and embraced these inhabitants.\n\nThen He gave a chain of gold and a signet ring to the elders of Mansoul and to each town office. He sent earrings, jewels, bracelets, and other things to their wives and gave many precious things to the trueborn children of Mansoul.\n\nWhen Emmanuel the Prince finished doing all these things for the famous town of Mansoul, He said to them, \"Wash your garments, put on your ornaments, and then come into the castle of Mansoul to Me.\"\n\nSo they went to the fountain set up for Judah and Jerusalem to wash, and they cleansed themselves and made their garments white, and came again into the castle to the Prince and stood before Him. (Then come, shall the LORD say, and we shall be even; if your sins were as scarlet, they shall be made as white as snow; if they were red like crimson, they shall become as wool. – Isaiah 1:18)\n\nMusic and dancing filled the whole town of Mansoul. Bells rang and the sun shone upon them for a great while, because their Prince had once again granted His presence and the light of His countenance to shine upon them.\n\nThe town of Mansoul more thoroughly sought the destruction and ruin of all the remaining Diabolians who lurked in the walls and dens in the town of Mansoul, for some had escaped with life and limb from the hand of their suppressors. But Lord Willbewill was a greater terror to them now than ever, for his heart was fully bent to seek, strategize, and pursue them to the death. He tracked them night and day and caused them severe distress, as I will show you.\n\nAfter things were put in order in Mansoul, care was taken and an order given by the blessed Prince Emmanuel: \"Without further delay, the townsmen should appoint some to go forth into the plain to bury the dead there – the dead who fell by My sword and by the shield of Captain Credence, so the fumes and bad odors will not rise and taint the air and annoy the famous town of Mansoul.\"\n\nThis order was given so they might cut off the name, existence, and memory of those enemies from the minds of Mansoul.\n\nSo the Lord Mayor Understanding, that wise and trusted friend of the town of Mansoul, brought order to Mansoul and said people should be engaged in necessary business. Godly-Fear and Mr. Upright were to be overseers, and people were placed under their authority to work in the fields and bury the slain that lay dead in the plains.\n\nThe jobs included digging graves, burying the dead, and going back and forth in the plains; they also checked around the borders of Mansoul to look for skulls, bones, or any piece of Doubter bone near the town. If any were found, it was ordered that the searchers set up a marker to notify those appointed to bury them. (And they shall take men out of continual employment, who shall go through the land with the passengers to bury those that remain upon the face of the earth, to cleanse it. – Ezekiel 39:14) These bones were to be buried out of sight so the name and memory of any Diabolian Doubter might be blotted out from under heaven, and the children and those to be born in Mansoul might never know even a remnant of a Doubter.\n\nSo the buriers and those appointed for this task did as they were commanded. They buried every last bit of the Doubters wherever they found them, and in this manner they cleansed the plains. Meanwhile, God's-Peace took up his assignment and performed his duties as in former days.\n\nThey Bury the Bones of the Doubters\n\nThey buried the Election-doubters, Vocation-doubters, Grace-doubters, Perseverance-doubters, Resurrection-doubters, Salvation-doubters, and the Glory-doubters in the plains around Mansoul. The captains of these Doubters were Captain Rage, Captain Cruel, Captain Damnation, Captain Insatiable, Captain Brimstone, Captain Torment, Captain No-Ease, Captain Sepulcher, Captain Past-Hope, and old Incredulity, who was their general under Diabolus. The seven heads of their army were Lord Beelzebub, Lord Lucifer, Lord Legion, Lord Apollyon, Lord Python, Lord Cerberus, and Lord Belial.\n\nBut the princes and captains with old Incredulity made their escape when they knew the battle was lost. However, their men fell slain by the power of the Prince's forces and by the hands of the men of the town of Mansoul. All these were buried, as I already mentioned, much to the great joy of the now-famous town of Mansoul. Those who buried them also buried their weapons, including arrows, darts, mauls, firebrands, and all cruel instruments of death. They even buried their armor, flags, banners, the standard of Diabolus, and whatever else they found that smelled of a Diabolian Doubter.\n\nChapter 30\n\nFinal Attack\n\nNow when the tyrant arrived back at Hell-gate Hill with his old friend Incredulity, they rushed down into the den with their companions. They grieved over their misfortune and the great loss they sustained against the town of Mansoul. They talked at length, became violently agitated, and vowed revenge for the loss they suffered. They called a council to plot how they could once again come against the famous town of Mansoul. They were hungry to see the result of Lord Lucifer's and Lord Apollyon's counsel which they had given. Every day their raging gullets wondered if it would be a long or a short time until they filled themselves with the bodies, souls, flesh, bones, and all the other delicacies of Mansoul. With this growing hunger consuming them, they decided to make another attempt upon the town of Mansoul. They planned to employ a mixed army made up of Doubters and of blood-men. To understand this army, a closer look at both Doubters and blood-men is necessary.\n\nThe Doubters are called such because of their nature and the land and kingdom from where they originate. Their nature is to question every one of Emmanuel's truths, and their country is called the land of Doubting. That land lies far to the north between the land of Darkness and the valley of the shadow of death, which are sometimes talked about as if they were one and the same, but they are two places that lie a short distance from one another. The land of Doubting points in and lies between them. Those who came with Diabolus to ruin the town of Mansoul were natives of that country, the land of Doubting.\n\nBlood-men are people who derive their name from the destructive tendency of their nature and from the fury within them to execute carnage upon the town of Mansoul. Their land lies under the dog star, which exercises a murderous influence on the earth and governs their intellects. (They are among those that rebel against the light; they have never known its ways nor abided in its paths. The murderer rises with the light, kills the poor and the needy, and in the night is as a thief. – Job 24:13-14) The name of their country is the province of Loath-good. The remote parts of it are far from the land of Doubting, yet they both butt together at Hell-gate Hill. These people are always in alliance with the Doubters, for they question the faith and loyalty of the men of the town of Mansoul. They are both qualified for the service of their prince Diabolus.\n\nNow Diabolus beat his drum again and raised another army from these two countries to come against the town of Mansoul. This new army was twenty-five thousand strong, made up of ten thousand Doubters and fifteen thousand blood-men. These forces were placed under several captains, and old Incredulity was made general of the army again.\n\nAs for the Doubters, their captains were five of the seven who were heads of the last Diabolian army. These included Captain Beelzebub, Captain Lucifer, Captain Apollyon, Captain Legion, and Captain Cerberus, and from the army they made some lieutenants and some ensigns.\n\nBut for this expedition, Diabolus didn't count on these Doubters to be his principal men, for their virility had been tried and had failed. The Mansoulians had brought them to a most disastrous outcome. He only planned to bring them along to increase the number of troops he had to help if they found themselves in a pinch. But he put his trust in his blood-men, for they were all rugged villains, and he knew they had accomplished feats of bravery before.\n\nAs for the blood-men, they were placed under the command of eight captains with familiar names: Captain Cain, Captain Nimrod, Captain Ishmael, Captain Esau, Captain Saul, Captain Absalom, Captain Judas, and Captain Pope.\n\nCaptain Cain oversaw two bands – the zealous and the angry blood-men. (The angry man stirs up strife, and the furious man abounds in transgression. – Proverbs 29:22) His standard-bearer carried red colors, and the emblem on his shield was the murdering club.\n\nCaptain Nimrod was also placed in a position above two bands – the tyrannical and encroaching blood-men. (Woe unto those that establish unrighteous laws and that willfully prescribe tyranny. – Isaiah 10:1) His standard-bearer bore the red colors to show the blood he'd shed, and the great bloodhound was his emblem.\n\nCaptain Ishmael became captain over the mocking and scorning blood-men. (Whosoever mocks the poor reproaches his Maker, and he that is glad regarding the calamity of someone else shall not go unpunished. – Proverbs 17:5) His standard-bearer also wore the red colors, and his insignia showed a man mocking Abraham's Isaac.\n\nCaptain Esau had authority over two more bands – the blood-men who begrudged that another should have the blessing, and the blood-men who favored taking out their private revenge upon others. (And Esau hated Jacob because of the blessing with which his father blessed him, and Esau said in his heart, The days of mourning for my father are at hand; then I will slay my brother Jacob. – Genesis 27:41) His standard-bearer displayed the red colors, and his emblem showed a man privately lurking to murder Jacob.\n\nCaptain Saul stood captain above two more bands – the groundlessly jealous and the devilishly furious blood-men. (Wrath is cruel, and anger is impetuous, but who is able to stand before envy? – Proverbs 27:4) His standard-bearer carried the red colors, and his symbol was three bloody darts cast at harmless David.\n\nCaptain Absalom was placed over two bands – the blood-men who willingly kill a father or a friend for the glory of this world, and the blood-men who hold a just person with their words until they pierce him with their swords. (It is not good to eat much honey, so for men to search their own glory is not glory. – Proverbs 25:27) His standard-bearer also displays the red colors, and the emblem on his shield was the son pursuing the father's blood.\n\nCaptain Judas stood over the blood-men who will sell a man's life for money and the band of those who will betray their friend with a kiss. (For it was not an enemy that reproached me; then I could have borne it, neither was it he that hated me that did magnify himself against me; then I would have hid myself from him: But it was thou, who in my estimation was, my lord, and of my own family. – Psalm 55:12-13) His standard-bearer also carried the red colors, and his symbol was thirty pieces of silver and the rope used for hanging rebels.\n\nThe last captain was Captain Pope. He was placed over one band, which united all these spirits as one under him. (They gather themselves together, they hide themselves, they mark my steps when they wait for my soul. – Psalm 56:6) Like the rest, his standard-bearer displayed the red colors, and his coat of arms was the stake, the flame, and the good man in it.\n\nNow, Diabolus rallied this force quickly after his defeat in the field because he put a lot of confidence in this blood-men army. In fact, he placed a great deal more trust in them than he ever did in his army of Doubters, even though they had often served him in strengthening his kingdom.\n\nHe had tested these blood-men often, and their sword seldom returned empty. He knew how they seized any father, mother, brother, sister, prince, governor, and even the Prince of princes – like mastiffs. Believing they once forced Emmanuel out of the kingdom of Universe, Diabolus thought, Why couldn't they do the same and drive Him from the town of Mansoul? So this army, twenty-five thousand strong, led by their general, the great Lord Incredulity, was commanded to go up against the town of Mansoul.\n\nHowever, it so happened that Mansoul's Scoutmaster-General, Mr. Prywell, went out to spy upon the enemy, and he brought back news of their coming to Mansoul. With this warning, they had time to shut their gates and ready themselves to defend against these new Diabolians coming against the town.\n\nDiabolus brought his army and surrounded the town of Mansoul. The Doubters were placed around Feel-gate, while the blood-men were strategically set before Eye-gate and Ear-gate. Incredulity sent an urgent summons to Mansoul commanding that they yield to their demands. If they dared to stand against them, the Diabolians threatened to burn Mansoul down with fire. You must realize that the blood-men didn't really want Mansoul to surrender, but rather longed for it to be destroyed and cut off from the land of the living. True, they'd sent a command for them to surrender, but if they did, that wouldn't stop or quench the thirst of these men for blood. They needed blood, the blood of Mansoul, or else they would die. This is how they received their name. Therefore, Diabolus reserved these blood-men for when his instruments of war proved ineffectual; these blood-men could be played against the town of Mansoul as his trump card.\n\nWhen the townsmen received this fiery summons, they started to change their minds, but in less than half an hour, they agreed to carry the summons to the Prince. They wrote at the bottom of it, \"Lord, save Mansoul from bloody men!\" (I will call upon the LORD, who is worthy to be praised, so shall I be saved from my enemies. – Psalm 18:3)\n\nWhen the Prince received the summons, He looked it over and considered it. He took notice of the short petition at the bottom, which had been added by the men of Mansoul. He called the noble Captain Credence to come to report for duty. The Prince told him to go with Captain Patience and take care of that side of Mansoul being harassed by the blood-men. So the two of them did as they were commanded and secured that side of Mansoul.\n\nCaptain Credence and Captain Patience Strengthen the Town of Mansoul\n\nThen Prince Emmanuel commanded Captain Good-Hope, Captain Charity, and Lord Willbewill to take charge of the other side of the town. \"You three keep watch against the Doubters,\" He said. \"And I will set My banner upon the battlements of your castle.\"\n\nWith this accomplished, He commanded the brave Captain Experience to bring his men into the marketplace and have them practice their skills daily before the people of the town of Mansoul.\n\nThis siege dragged on into a lengthy attempt by the enemy to gain possession of Mansoul, and included many fierce endeavors upon the town, especially by the blood-men. The townsmen met with many clever skirmishes, particularly Captain Self-Denial who was commanded to defend Ear-gate and Eye-gate against the blood-men. Captain Self-Denial, like Captain Experience, was a brave young man and a townsman in Mansoul. On His second return to Mansoul, Emmanuel made him a captain over a thousand Mansoulians for the good of the community. This captain, being a hardy man of great courage and willing to risk danger for the good of the town of Mansoul, would rush out and besiege the blood-men. He gave them many significant scares and entered several brisk skirmishes with them. He even killed some of them. But don't think this was easily done, for he met with several close encounters and bore several scars on his face and body.\n\nAfter testing the faith, hope, and love of the town of Mansoul, Prince Emmanuel called His captains and men of war together and divided them into two companies. (And now abide faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity. – 1 Corinthians 13:13) He commanded them to rush out upon the enemy in the morning at an appointed time. He said, \"Half of you fall upon the Doubters, and the other half upon the blood-men. Those of you who go against the Doubters, kill and slay as many of them as you can lay hands on, but for you who go out against the blood-men, take them alive. Don't slay them.\"\n\nThe following morning the captains went out against the enemies at the appointed time. Captain Good-Hope, Captain Charity, and those joined with them like Captain Innocency and Captain Experience marched out against the Doubters. Captain Credence and Captain Patience with Captain Self-Denial and those united with them went out against the blood-men.\n\nThe troops that went out against the Doubters drew up into a body before the plain and marched to challenge them to battle. But the Doubters remembered how the Prince's army had defeated them in their last battle. They decided not to venture another upset and fled from the Prince's men who pursued them. The Prince's men chased and slew many, but they couldn't catch them all.\n\nOf those who escaped, some went home, but the rest strayed about the country by fives, nines, and seventeens. As they wandered, they showed off and practiced many of their Diabolian behaviors in the presence of the ignorant people who lived there. These people didn't take up arms against them but allowed themselves to be enslaved. These Doubters also gathered in groups before the town of Mansoul, but not to dwell in it, because if Captain Credence, Captain Good-Hope, or Captain Experience showed themselves, they fled.\n\nThose who went out against the blood-men also did as they were commanded. They refrained from slaying any of them, but tried to surround them. When the blood-men saw Emmanuel wasn't in the field, they concluded He wasn't in Mansoul. Therefore, they looked at what the captains did as their own wild and foolish desires and despised them more than feared them.\n\nBut the captains paid attention to the task at hand and finally encompassed them. The forces that had routed the Doubters came to their aid with power, and after a little struggling, the blood-men decided to make a run for it. However, it was too late, for though they are harmful and cruel in situations where they can overcome, blood-men are actually chicken-hearted men when they are matched equally. So the captains took them captive and brought them to the Prince. When the Prince examined them, He found them to be from three counties but all from one land.\n\nOne sort came out of Blind-man-shire, and they ignorantly did what they did. (For they, being ignorant of God's righteousness and going about to establish their own righteousness, have not submitted themselves unto the righteousness of God. – Romans 10:3) Another sort came out of Blind-zeal-shire, and they superstitiously did what they did. (Thus hath the LORD said, Do not learn the way of the Gentiles, and do not fear the signs of heaven. – Jeremiah 10:2) The third sort came out of the town of Malice in the county of Envy, and they did what they did out of spite and irreconcilable hostility or anger.\n\nWhen the first group from the Blind-man-shire saw where they were and Whom they fought against, they trembled and cried as they stood before Him. For all those who asked Him for mercy, He touched their lips with His golden scepter.\n\nThose from Blind-zeal-shire, however, didn't follow the example of their fellows from Blind-man-shire. Instead, they pleaded that they had a right to do what they did because Mansoul was a town whose laws and customs were different from all who lived around them. Very few of this group could be brought to see their evil, but those who did and asked for mercy also gained favor.\n\nAnd last, those who came from the town of Malice in the county of Envy didn't weep or dispute. Nor did they repent! Instead, they stood gnawing their tongues before Him in anguish and madness, because they couldn't force their will upon Mansoul.\n\nThose who sincerely asked pardon for their faults from this last group, with all those from the other two sorts, were bound and would be made to answer for what they had done against Mansoul and her King. This would be done at the great and general hearings to be held before our Lord the King. He Himself would decide for the country and kingdom of Universe. (For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ that each one may receive according to that which they have done in the body, good or evil. – 2 Corinthians 5:10) So they bound each man for the time when he would be called to answer for what he had done. This hearing included much about this second army sent by Diabolus to overthrow Mansoul.\n\nBut three of those rascals who came from the land of Doubting figured they had escaped, after they had wandered the country a while. With this sense of freedom and the knowledge that some Diabolians still lived in the town, they became so bold they drove themselves with force into Mansoul. Did I say three Diabolians? Actually, I think there were four.\n\nAfter they entered Mansoul, whose house did these Diabolian Doubters go to? They went straight to the house of an old Diabolian whose name was Evil-Questioning. He happened to be a great enemy to Mansoul, who proved himself a great doer among the Diabolians there.\n\nWhen these Doubters came to Evil-Questioning's house, he welcomed them, showed sympathy for their misfortune, and assisted them with the best he had in his house. After becoming acquainted, which didn't take long, old Evil-Questioning asked the Doubters a question. He knew they were from one kingdom but asked if they were all from the same town.\n\nThey answered, \"No, we don't come from the same shire either.\"\n\nOne said, \"I am an Election-doubter.\"\n\nAnother said, \"I am a Vocation-doubter.\"\n\nAnd the third said, \"I'm a Salvation-doubter,\" while the fourth admitted to being a Grace-doubter.\n\nThe old gentlemen smiled. \"Well, it doesn't matter to me whatever shire you come from. I am sure you've had more downs than ups, boys, but I want you to know you have my support. For I can see you are one with my heart and want to assure you that you are welcomed here.\" His arms cut a flamboyant sweep through the air, encompassing the room in which they gathered. So they thanked him and were glad to have found a place to stay in Mansoul.\n\nThen Evil-Questioning said, \"How many more of your company came with you to the siege of Mansoul?\"\n\nThey said, \"There were only ten thousand Doubters in all, for the rest of the army consisted of fifteen thousand blood-men. These blood-men border on our country, but we hear every one of them were taken by Emmanuel's forces.\"\n\n\"Ten thousand!\" The old gentleman raised his bushy brows. \"I promise you this, that's a full company. But what happened? How is it you were so mighty a number and fainted enough that you dared not fight your foes?\"\n\n\"Our general,\" they all said at the same time. \"He was the first man to run for it.\"\n\n\"Really? Tell me the name of your cowardly general.\"\n\n\"He was once the Lord Mayor of Mansoul,\" they said, \"but please don't call him a cowardly general. There hasn't been another from the east to the west who has done more service for our prince Diabolus than Lord Incredulity. If they caught him, they would have hanged him, and we can guarantee that hanging is a bad business.\"\n\nThe old man pursed his lips in thought. \"I wish all ten thousand Doubters were well armed now in Mansoul, with me at the head of them. I'd show you what I could do.\"\n\n\"Agreed,\" they said. \"We would like to see that, but wishes, what are they except wishes?\" They shrugged and shook their heads.\n\nOld Evil-Questioning said, \"Be careful you don't talk too loud. You must be quiet and keep things secret – must take care of yourselves while you are here, or I assure you, you will be seized.\" (Where shall I go from thy spirit? or where shall I flee from thy presence? – Psalm 139:7)\n\n\"Why?\" The Doubters looked at one another in confusion.\n\n\"Why?\" the old gentleman asked. \"Why? Because both the Prince and Lord Secretary and their captains and soldiers are all here in town. Yes! The town is as full of them as ever, and there is one whose name is Willbewill, a most cruel enemy of ours, and the Prince has made him keeper of the gates. He has been commanded to look for, search out, and destroy all manner of Diabolians with all the diligence he can muster. (But we desire that each one of you show the same diligence until the end for the fulfillment of your hope. – Hebrews 6:11) And if he comes upon you, down you go, as if your heads were made of gold.\"\n\nWhile this discussion took place, it so happened that one of the Lord Willbewill's faithful soldiers, whose name was Mr. Diligence, stood listening under the eaves of old Evil-Questioning's house. (Therefore, it is necessary that we with more diligence keep the things which we have heard, so that we do not fall. – Hebrews 2:1) He heard all the talk between him and the Doubters.\n\nThe soldier was a man Lord Willbewill had much confidence in and loved dearly, because he was a man of courage and he never grew weary in seeking after Diabolians to apprehend.\n\nNow this man, as I told you, heard all the talk between old Evil-Questioning and these Diabolians. Therefore, he hurried to his lord and told him what he had heard.\n\n\"Are you sure, my trusted one?\" Willbewill asked.\n\n\"Yes, I am,\" Diligence said. \"And if your lordship will be pleased to go with me, you will find it as I have said.\"\n\n\"Are they there now?\" Willbewill asked. \"I know Evil-Questioning well. He and I both played important roles during the time when we abandoned our faith, but I don't know where he lives now.\"\n\nThe Arrest of the Conspirators\n\nDiligence smiled. \"But I do, and if your lordship will come with me, I will lead you to his den.\"\n\n\"Let's go!\" Lord Willbewill said as he headed toward the door. \"Come, Diligence, let us go find them.\"\n\nSo Willbewill and his man went the direct way to the house. Now Diligence led the way, and they went along until they came under old Mr. Evil-Questioning's wall. Then Diligence whispered, \"Listen! My lord, do you know the old gentleman's voice when you hear it?\"\n\nHe nodded. \"Yes. I know it well, but I haven't seen him in a long time. But this I do know, he is cunning. I hope he doesn't give us the slip.\"\n\n\"Leave that to me,\" his servant Diligence said.\n\n\"But how will we find the door?\" Lord Willbewill asked.\n\n\"Let me take care of that too.\" So Diligence kept Lord Willbewill close and showed him the way to the door. Then Willbewill broke open the door, rushed into the house, and caught all five together, even as Diligence his man had told him. So Willbewill apprehended them, led them away, and committed them to the hand of Mr. True-Man, the jailer.\n\n\"Put them under guard,\" he commanded.\n\nIn the morning, the Lord Mayor Understanding heard about what Lord Willbewill had done overnight, and his lordship rejoiced at the news, not only because Doubters were apprehended, but also because old Evil-Questioning was taken into custody. This rascal had proven to be great trouble to Mansoul and caused much affliction to Lord Mayor Understanding himself. He'd been sought for a long time but had proven to be elusive until now.\n\nChapter 31\n\nJudgment Day\n\nThe next thing was to prepare to try these five individuals who had been apprehended and were held in the custody of True-Man, the jailer. The day for the trial was set, the court convened, and the prisoners brought to the bar. Lord Willbewill had the authority to slay them when he first captured them without any more bother, but he thought it best for the honor of the Prince, the comfort of Mansoul, and the discouragement of the enemy to bring them forth to public judgment.\n\nMr. True-Man brought them to the town hall and up to the bar in chains, for that was the place of judgment. The jury was selected, the witnesses sworn in, and the prisoners tried for their lives. The jury consisted of the same jurors who tried No-Truth, Pitiless, Haughty, and the rest of their companions.\n\nOld Questioning himself was brought to the bar first, because he had welcomed, entertained, and comforted these Doubters, who were foreign men. He was instructed to listen to the charges brought against him and told he had the liberty to object, if he had anything to say for himself. So his indictment was read.\n\n\"Mr. Questioning, you are here indicted by the name of Evil-Questioning, an intruder upon the town of Mansoul, for you are a Diabolian by nature, a hater of the Prince Emmanuel, and one who has studied the ruin of the town of Mansoul. You are here indicted for supporting the King's enemies, after wholesome laws made to the contrary:\n\n\"First, you questioned the truth of her doctrine and seat of dignity. (Deceit is in the heart of those whose thoughts are evil. – Proverbs 12:20a)\n\n\"Second, you wished that ten thousand Doubters were in her.\n\n\"Third, you received, entertained, and encouraged her enemies, who came from their army to you. What do you say to this indictment? Are you guilty or not guilty?\"\n\n\"My lord,\" he said, \"I don't know the meaning of this indictment, for I am not the man involved in it. The man accused of these things is called by the name of Evil-Questioning, which I deny to be my name, for my name is Honest-Inquiry. The one indeed sounds like the other, but your lordships know there is a big difference between these two. For I hope a man, even in the worst of times and among the worst of men, may make an honest inquiry about things without running the danger of death.\"\n\nThen Lord Willbewill stepped forward as one of the witnesses. \"My lord and you, the honorable bench and magistrates of the town of Mansoul, you all have heard with your ears that the prisoner at the bar has denied his name, and in so doing he thinks he can shift the charge of the indictment away from himself. But I know him to be the man concerned, and his proper name is Evil-Questioning. I have known him for more than thirty years, for he and I, to my shame, were once great acquaintances. This was when Diabolus, that tyrant, held the government of Mansoul.\n\n\"I confirm Evil-Questioning is a Diabolian by nature, an enemy to our Prince, and a hater of the blessed town of Mansoul. In times of rebellion, he visited and even lodged in my house for as many as twenty nights at a time. We used to talk then. The substance of conversations back then was much the same as his recent talks between him and his Doubters. I haven't seen him in a long time. I suppose Emmanuel's coming to Mansoul caused him to change his address, in the same way this indictment has driven him to change his name.\" Lord Willbewill pointed at the prisoner and said, \"But this is the man, my lord.\"\n\nThe clerk turned to the prisoner and asked, \"Do you have anything more to say?\"\n\nThe old man stood a little straighter and held his head high with an arrogant air. \"Yes,\" he said, \"I do. For everything said against me up to this point is by the mouth of only one witness. It isn't lawful for the famous town of Mansoul to put any man to death based on the testimony of one witness.\" (One witness shall not be valid against a man for any iniquity or for any sin, in any sin which he should commit. At the mouth of two witnesses or at the mouth of three witnesses, shall the matter be established. – Deuteronomy 19:15)\n\nMr. Diligence stood and came forward and addressed the court. \"My lord, upon my watch the other night at the head of Bad Street here in Mansoul, I happened to hear muttering within this gentleman's house.\" He motioned with his hand toward Evil-Questioning. \"I asked myself, 'What is going on here?' So I drew up softly to get close enough to the side of the house to listen, because it sounded like it might be a quarrel, and I thought perhaps I might come across some Diabolian meeting.\n\n\"As I said, I drew nearer and nearer. When I was close to the wall, it didn't take long to perceive foreign men were in the house. They talked loud enough that I understood most of what they were saying, because I've traveled a lot. Upon hearing their language in that kind of a tottering cottage where this old gentleman lives, I cupped my ear to a hole in the window and overheard every word. This old Mr. Questioning asked these Doubters what they were, where they came from, and what their business was in these parts. They told him they were Doubters and why they had come here, and he welcomed them into his home.\n\n\"He also asked how many of them there were, and they told him ten thousand men. He then asked why they hadn't made a braver assault upon Mansoul, and they told him. Evil-Questioning called their general a coward for marching off when he should have fought for his prince. I heard this old Evil-Questioning wish that all the ten thousand Doubters were now in Mansoul with himself leading them.\" He waggled his finger toward the prisoner and finished by saying, \"He also told them to be careful and to lie quietly, because if they were captured, they must die.\"\n\nThe clerk turned and addressed the prisoner. \"Mr. Evil-Questioning, it appears we now have another witness against you, and his testimony is replete with details that implicate you. He swears you received these men into your house, and you fed them, even though you knew they were Diabolians and the King's enemies. He swears you wished ten thousand of them were in Mansoul, and you gave them advice to be quiet and careful to avoid being taken by the King's servants. (They encourage themselves in an evil matter; they attempt to hide the snares; they say, Who shall see them? They search out iniquities; they perfect and put into effect that which they have invented in the inward thought of each one of them and that which they have devised in their heart. – Psalm 64:5-6) All of this makes it obvious that you're a Diabolian. If you had been a friend to the King, you would have apprehended them.\"\n\nEvil-Questioning's face flushed, but his voice remained calm. He said, \"To the first of these charges I say the men who came into my house were strangers. Yes, I took them in, but is it a crime now in Mansoul for a man to entertain strangers? I offered them something to eat.\" He shrugged. \"So why would I be faulted for my kindness? As for why I wished ten thousand of them to be in Mansoul, I never mentioned the reason to the witnesses nor to them. For all anyone knew, I might have just been wishing them to be captured, which would mean I wished Mansoul well. I also told them to be careful not to fall into the captains' hands, but that might be because I am unwilling any man should be slain – and not because I wish to have the King's enemies escape.\"\n\nLord Mayor Understanding replied, \"While it was a virtue to entertain strangers, it was treason to entertain the King's enemies. And by everything you've said, you labor by words to evade and postpone the execution of judgment. Even if nothing else was proved against you except that you are a Diabolian, by the law you must die. But to be hospitable, a nourisher, a supporter, and one who offers shelter to other Diabolians who come from far away purposely to cut off and destroy our Mansoul – this must not be tolerated.\"\n\nEvil-Questioning's nostrils flared. \"I see how the game will play out. I must die for my name and for my kindness.\" After that, he didn't say another word.\n\nThen they called the foreign-born Doubters to the bar one at a time. The first to be arraigned was the Election-doubter. As he stepped up to the bar, his indictment was read. Because he wasn't a natural-born Mansoulian and didn't speak the language, an interpreter translated for him. \"You have been charged with being an enemy of Emmanuel the Prince, a hater of the town of Mansoul, and an opposer of her most wholesome doctrine.\"\n\nThe judge asked the Doubter how he would plead. The Doubter replied, \"I confess I am an Election-doubter. It is the only religion I was brought up in.\" He finished by saying, \"If I must die for my religion, I shall die a martyr, so I couldn't care less.\"\n\nThe judge looked down at the Doubter over the rim of his glasses. He said, \"To question election is to overthrow a great doctrine of the gospel – specifically, it questions the omniscience, power, and will of God. It takes away the freedom of God with His creature, obstructs the faith of the town of Mansoul, and makes salvation dependent upon works and not upon grace. (Knowing that a man is not justified by the works of the law, but by the faith of Jesus Christ, even we have believed in Jesus Christ, that we might be justified by the faith of Christ, and not by the works of the law; for by the works of the law shall no flesh be justified. – Galatians 2:16) This Doubter contradicts the Word and worries the men of Mansoul. Therefore, by the best of laws, he must die.\"\n\nNext, the Vocation-doubter was called to the bar. The matter of his indictment was the same as the first Doubter, except he was charged with denying the calling of Mansoul.\n\nThe judge asked him, \"What do you have to say for yourself?\"\n\nThe Doubter said, \"I have never believed there is any such thing as a distinct and powerful call of God to Mansoul, not even by the general voice of the Word, except the appeal to cease evil and do that which is good and in so doing gain a promise of happiness in the end.\" (Who has saved us and called us with a holy calling, not according to our works, but according to his own purpose and grace, which was given us in Christ Jesus before the times of the ages. – 2 Timothy 1:9)\n\nThe judge shook his head and again looked upon the Doubter over the rim of his glasses. \"You are a Diabolian and have denied a great part of one of the Prince's truths taught by experience. He has called and Mansoul has heard a most distinct and powerful call of her Emmanuel by which she has been made alive – awakened and possessed with heavenly grace to desire fellowship with her Prince, to serve Him, do His will, and seek happiness merely from His good pleasure. (And he has made you alive, who were dead in trespasses and sins. – Ephesians 2:1) And for your aversion to this good doctrine, you must die the death.\"\n\nThen the Grace-doubter was called to the bar and his indictment read. He replied, \"Though I am from the land of Doubting, my father is an offspring of a Pharisee. Outwardly he lived in this fashion among his neighbors, and he taught me to believe; and I do believe it and will for the rest of my life, for Mansoul shall never be saved freely by grace.\"\n\nThe judge spoke with authority. \"The law of the Prince is plain. It is not of works but by grace you are saved. (Being justified freely by his grace through the redemption that is in Jesus, the Christ. – Romans 3:24) And your religion depends on the works of the flesh, for the works of the law are the works of the flesh.\n\n\"Besides, in saying what you have, you have robbed God of His glory and given it to a sinful man. You have robbed Christ of the necessity of what He did and the sufficiency of it. In its place you have trusted in the works of the flesh. You have despised the work of the Holy Spirit and magnified the will of the flesh and the legal mindset. You are a Diabolian, the son of a Diabolian, and for your Diabolian principles you must die.\"\n\nThe court sent the jury out to deliberate, but they immediately brought the guilty verdict and the sentence of death.\n\nThen the Recorder stood up and addressed the prisoners. \"You, the prisoners at the bar, have been indicted and proven guilty of high crimes against Emmanuel our Prince and against the welfare of the famous town of Mansoul – crimes for which you must be put to death.\" (For the wages of sin is death, but the grace of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord. – Romans 6:23)\n\nSo they were sentenced to death on the cross. The execution was assigned to take place at the spot where Diabolus drew up his last army against Mansoul, with the exception that old Evil-Questioning was hanged at upper Bad Street against the door of his house.\n\nWhen the town of Mansoul had rid themselves of these enemies and troublers of their peace, they issued a strict mandate to Lord Willbewill and his man, Diligence, to search for and apprehend any town Diabolians who were still alive in Mansoul. They received a list of several of their names, including Mr. Fooling, Mr. Let-Good-Slip, Mr. Slavish-Fear, Mr. No-Love, Mr. Mistrust, Mr. Flesh, and Mr. Sloth. They were also commanded to apprehend Evil-Questioning's children, who were left behind after he died. They were to be taken into custody and their house demolished.\n\nThe children he left behind were Mr. Doubt, his eldest son, next was Legal-Life, followed by Unbelief, Wrong-Thoughts-of-Christ, Clip-Promise, Carnal-Sense, Live-by-Feeling, and Self-Love. He had these offspring by one wife, and her name was No-Hope. She was the niece of old Incredulity. When her father, old Dark, died, he took her in as his own and brought her up until she grew to marriageable age. Incredulity gave her to Evil-Questioning to be his wife.\n\nNow the Lord Willbewill performed his commission with the help of Diligence, his man. He captured Fooling in the streets and hanged him in Want-wit Alley against his own house. This Fooling was the one who wanted the town of Mansoul to deliver Captain Credence into the hands of Diabolus. In return, Diabolus would have supposedly withdrawn his forces from the town. Willbewill also caught Let-Good-Slip one busy day in the market and executed him according to the Law.\n\nFooling Is Hung\n\nNow an honest, poor man in Mansoul by the name of Mr. Meditation was of no great importance in the days when Mansoul deserted their faith, but now he had the best reputation in the town. (But his delight is in the law of the LORD, and in his law he meditates day and night. – Psalm 1:2) Therefore, they were willing to raise this man to an office or dignity.\n\nLet-Good-Slip formerly had a great deal of wealth in Mansoul, but upon Emmanuel's arrival, it was confiscated for the Prince's use. This resource was given to Mr. Meditation to make improvements for the common good. After him, it was to be given to his son, Mr. Think-Well, with his wife, Piety, the daughter of Mr. Recorder.\n\nAfter this, Willbewill apprehended Clip-Promise, a notorious villain who abused much of the King's wealth by his doings. For this reason, he was made a public example. After his arraignment, he was sentenced to be first set in the pillory to secure his head and hands, then whipped by all the children and servants in Mansoul. Finally, he was to be hanged until he died.\n\nSome may wonder why this man's punishment was so severe, but honest traders in Mansoul are aware of the great abuse one clipper of promises can do to the town of Mansoul in just a little time. And my judgment is that all those of his name and life should be taken care of in the same way as he was.\n\nWillbewill also apprehended Carnal-Sense and put him in a prison cell. I can't tell you how, but somehow he broke out and made his escape. That's right! This bold villain still hadn't left the town. Instead, he lurked in Diabolian dens by day and haunted honest men's houses like a ghost at night. As a result, a proclamation was made in the marketplace in Mansoul, which said, \"Whoever discovers the whereabouts of Carnal-Sense and apprehends and slays him will be awarded daily admittance to the Prince's table and shall be made keeper of the treasure of Mansoul.\" Many responded and changed their focus to accomplish this task, but they were unsuccessful at capturing or slaying him, even though he was often discovered. But when Willbewill captured Mr. Wrong-Thoughts-of-Christ and put him in prison, he wasn't as fortunate, for he died there of a lingering consumption.\n\nSelf-Love was also taken captive and committed to custody, but many in Mansoul were allied to him so his judgment was deferred. But Mr. Self-Denial stood up and said, \"If such villains as these may be casually winked at in Mansoul, I will lay down my commission.\" (Then Jesus said unto his disciples, If anyone will come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. – Matthew 16:24) He grabbed the prisoner from the crowd and placed him among his soldiers who hit him in the head and killed him. While this was the right thing to do, some in Mansoul muttered about it under their breath; but no one dared to speak outright, because Emmanuel was in town.\n\nThe Death of Self Love\n\nThis brave act of Captain Self-Denial came to the Prince's attention, so He sent for him and made him a lord in Mansoul. Lord Willbewill also obtained grand commendations from Emmanuel for what he accomplished for Mansoul.\n\nLord Self-Denial gained courage from all this and pursued the Diabolians with the help of Lord Willbewill. They took captive Live-by-Feeling and Legal-Life and put them in prison until they died. But Mr. Unbelief was quite a nimble sort, and they never could lay hold of him, though they attempted to do so often. Therefore, he and a few more of the subtlest of the Diabolian tribe remain in Mansoul. It will stay this way until Mansoul leaves, no longer to dwell in the kingdom of Universe.\n\nBut they kept them to their dens and holes, and if one of them appeared or happened to be spotted in the streets of Mansoul, the whole town was up in arms and after them. Yes, even the children in Mansoul cried as if they'd seen a thief and wished they might be stoned to death.\n\nSo finally, Mansoul enjoyed a good degree of peace and quiet. Her Prince lived within her borders; her captains and her soldiers performed their duties, and Mansoul minded her way of life. She tended her businesses and traded with the far-off country.\n\nChapter 32\n\nEmmanuel's Message\n\nWhen the town of Mansoul rid themselves of so many of their enemies and the troublers of their peace, the Prince set up an appointed day when He would meet all the people at the marketplace, where He planned to communicate instructions about future matters. If they observed them, He would take care of their safety and comfort and the condemnation and destruction of their homebred Diabolians.\n\nThe appointed day arrived, and the townsmen met together in the marketplace. Emmanuel came down in His chariot with all His captains as one body attending Him on the right and left. A call for silence was made, and after some mutual conveyances of love, the Prince began to speak.\n\n\"You, My Mansoul and the beloved of My heart, I have bestowed many great privileges upon you. I have singled you out from others and have chosen you for Myself, not because of your worthiness but for My own sake. (For thou art a holy people unto the LORD thy God; the LORD thy God has chosen thee to be a special people unto himself, different from all the peoples that are upon the face of the earth. – Deuteronomy 7:6)\n\n\"I have also redeemed you – not only from the dread of My Father's Law but also from the hand of Diabolus. (Christ has redeemed us from the curse of the law, being made a curse for us, (for it is written, Cursed is every one that hangs on a tree). – Galatians 3:13)\n\n\"I have done this because I loved you and because I have set My heart upon you to do you good. (For I know the thoughts that I think concerning you, said the LORD, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you the end that you wait for. – Jeremiah 29:11) I have also laid down complete payment for your soul and have bought you for Myself with a price not of corruptible things like silver and gold but a price of blood, My own blood, which I freely spilled upon the ground to make you Mine. I did this so anything that might hinder your way to the pleasures of paradise might be removed. So I have settled your debt to My Father and My Mansoul, and have consigned mansion houses for you with My Father in the royal city, where things are unlike anything your eyes have seen – inconceivable things never even imagined by man. (In my Father's house are many dwelling places; if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and take you unto myself; that where I am, there ye may be also. – John 14:2-3)\n\n\"My Mansoul, you see what I have done and how I have delivered you from the hands of your enemies – the very enemies with whom you revolted against My Father and by whom you were content to be possessed and destroyed. I came to you first by My Law, then by My gospel, to awaken you and show you My glory. And you know what you were, what you said, what you did, and how many times you rebelled against My Father and Me. Yet, I didn't leave you, as you see this day, but I came to you, endured your conduct, waited for you, and after all that, through My grace and favor, I accepted you and would not permit you to be lost as you would have been. (The Lord is not late concerning his promise, as some count lateness, but is patient with us, not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance. – 2 Peter 3:9)\n\n\"I circled around you and afflicted you on every side, so I might make you weary of your sinful ways and bring your heart to the point of change that desires your good and happiness. When I acquired a complete victory over you, I turned it to your advantage.\n\n\"You see the gathering of My Father's host, which I have accommodated within your borders: captains and rulers, soldiers and men of war, engines of war and excellent devices to subdue and bring down your enemies. You know what I'm talking about, Mansoul. They are My servants and yours too. My plan for occupying Mansoul with them deals with the natural tendency of each of them to defend, purge, strengthen, and sweeten you for Me. O Mansoul, all of this is to make you ready to stand in My Father's presence, blessing, and glory. For you, My Mansoul, are created for these.\n\n\"You will see how I have passed by your backslidings, Mansoul, and have healed you. I was angry with you but have turned My anger away, because I still loved you. My anger and indignation have been forgotten with the destruction of your enemies. It wasn't your goodness which brought Me to you again, for I hid My face from you and withdrew My presence from you and your transgressions.\n\n\"Backsliding was your choice, but the way and means of your recovery was Mine. I invented the way of your return. I built a hedge and a wall, when you were beginning to turn to things in which I did not delight. I'm the One who made your sweet bitter, your day night, your smooth way thorny, and who confounded all who sought your destruction. I am the One who set Mr. Godly-Fear to work in Mansoul. I stirred your conscience and understanding, your will and your affections after your great and woeful decay. I am the One who placed life into you, Mansoul, to seek Me, so you might find Me, and when you found Me, that you would find your own health, happiness, and salvation. I drew the Diabolians out of Mansoul the second time, and I overcame them and destroyed them before your face.\n\n\"And now, My Mansoul, I have returned to you in peace, and your transgressions against Me are as if they never happened. (As far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our rebellions from us. – Psalm 103:12) It shall not be as in former days with you, for I will do better for you than at the beginning.\n\n\"For a little while yet, My Mansoul, after a few more seasons of time pass, I will take down this famous town of Mansoul to the ground – every stick and stone – and will carry the stones, the timber, the walls, the dust, and the inhabitants into My own country – the kingdom of My Father. Don't be troubled at what I say, for I will set Mansoul up in strength and glory, unlike anything it has ever known in the kingdom where it is now placed. I will set it up for My Father's habitation, for that was the original purpose of the kingdom of Universe; but there I will make it a spectacle of wonder, a monument of mercy, and the admirer of its own mercy. The natives of Mansoul will witness things they've never seen here. They shall have fellowship with Me, with My Father, and with your Lord Secretary – a sweet communion that isn't possible here. Fellowship on this level could never be achieved now, even if you lived in Universe for a thousand years.\n\n\"In the new Mansoul, you will no longer fear murderers or Diabolians and their threats. No longer will there be plots, devices, or plans against you. You shall not hear accounts of evil that have taken place or the noise of the Diabolian drum. You won't see the Diabolian standard-bearers or lay eyes on Diabolus's standard to make you afraid. No Diabolian bulwark for offense or defense will be set up against you there. (These things I have spoken unto you that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation; but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world. – John 16:33)\n\n\"You will no longer need captains, engines of war, soldiers, or men of war. And in the new Mansoul, you will have no sorrow or grief. (And ye now therefore have sorrow; but I will see you again, and your heart shall rejoice, and no one shall take your joy from you. – John 16:22) It will be impossible for any Diabolian to ever creep into your outskirts or burrow into your walls. They will never be seen again within your borders all the days of eternity. Life shall last longer there than you desire it to here, yet it will always be sweet and new without any hindrances.\n\n\"My Mansoul, you will meet with many who have partaken of sorrows. I have chosen, redeemed, and set them apart for My Father's court and royal city. You shall all be glad of heart to see each other.\n\n\"Mansoul, things never seen since the beginning of the world have been stored by My Father among His treasures and sealed up for you until you come to enjoy them. I told you before that I would remove My Mansoul and set it up elsewhere. Where I set it, will be with those who love you, who rejoice in you now, but who will rejoice much more when they see you exalted to honor!\n\n\"My Father will send them to fetch you. Their embraces will be like chariots to carry you away, and you shall ride upon the wings of the wind. They will come to carry, lead, and bring you to that new sanctuary. When your eyes see it, you shall have your desired haven. (And then shall he send his angels and shall gather together his elect from the four winds, from the uttermost part of the earth unto the uttermost part of the heaven. – Mark 13:27)\n\n\"And so, My Mansoul, I have shown you what will take place in the future. If you can hear and understand, I will tell you what your responsibilities and practice must be, until I come and take you to Myself according to the Scriptures of truth.\n\n\"First, I command that you keep yourself clean and the robes which I gave you unstained by the world; for while the garments are fine linen, you must keep them white and clean. This will be your wisdom and your honor and will be for My glory, because when your garments are white, the world will view you as Mine. (Remove the sin in me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow. – Psalm 51:7) When your garments are white, I will be delighted in your ways, for your actions will be like a flash of lightning, obvious to all those around you. Dress yourselves as I have said, and make your paths straight according to My Law; so your King will desire your beauty, for He is your Lord and you worship Him.\n\n\"I have provided an open fountain to wash your garments, so you may keep your robes white as I have asked you to do. (But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have communion with him in the midst of us, and the blood of Jesus Christ, his Son cleanses us from all sin. – 1 John 1:7) Therefore, pay attention that you wash often in My fountain, so you don't go about in defiled garments. Doing so brings Me dishonor and disgrace and will bring you discomfort when you walk around in filthy garments. Therefore, don't permit My garments, your covering, the garments I have clothed you in, to be defiled or spotted by the flesh. Always keep your garments white, and never let your head lack ointment. (Thy garments shall always be white, and thy head shall never lack ointment. – Ecclesiastes 9:8)\n\n\"My Mansoul, I have delivered you from the plans, plots, attempts, and conspiracies of Diabolus, and for all this I ask nothing from you except that you don't repay Me with evil for My good. I ask that you remember My love and My continued kindness to My beloved Mansoul to stimulate you to walk to the whole extent of the benefit bestowed on you. In times past, the sacrifices were bound with cords to the horns of the altar. Consider what is said to you, My blessed Mansoul.\n\n\"I have lived, I have died; I live and will die no more for you. I live, so you may not die. Because I live, you shall live also. I reconciled you to My Father by the blood of My cross, and being reconciled, you shall live through Me. I will pray for you. I will fight for you, and I will still do you good. (For if, when we were enemies, we were reconciled with God by the death of his Son, much more, now reconciled, we shall be saved by his life. – Romans 5:10)\n\n\"Nothing can hurt you but sin. Nothing can grieve Me but sin, and nothing can make you vile and worthless before your enemies but sin. So pay close attention to sin, My Mansoul.\n\n\"Do you know why I first allowed and still permit Diabolians to live within your walls? It is to keep you alert, to test your love, to make you watchful, and to cause you to value My noble captains, their soldiers, and My mercy. It is also to remind you of the deplorable condition you once lived in when some Diabolians lived not only in your walls but also in your castle and in your stronghold, Mansoul.\n\n\"My Mansoul, even if I slew all of them within your gates, many are still outside waiting to bring you into bondage. If all within your gates were cut off, those outside would still lie waiting to swallow you up, as is the case at this very moment. Therefore, I left them in you, not to do you harm, which they will if you listen to them or serve them, but to do you good, if you stay alert and fight against them. Know that in whatever way they tempt you, My plan isn't that they would drive you further off, but rather nearer to My Father – to learn war, to petition Him, and to make you less important in your own eyes. (But as for me, to draw near to God is good; I have put my hope in the Lord GOD, that I may declare all thy works. – Psalm 73:28) Listen diligently to this, My Mansoul.\n\nBecause I Live, You Shall Live Also\n\n\"Show Me your love, My Mansoul. Don't allow those within your walls to take your desires and inclinations away from Him who has redeemed your soul. Let the sight of a Diabolian heighten your love for Me. I came once, and twice, and thrice, to save you from the poison of those arrows that would have brought about your death. Therefore, stand for Me, your Friend, My Mansoul, against the Diabolians, and I will stand for you before My Father and all His court. Love Me, flee temptation, and I will love you despite your infirmities.\n\n\"Mansoul, remember what My captains, My soldiers, and My war engines have done for you. They have fought for you, suffered alongside you. They have tolerated much at your hands to do you good. If they hadn't helped you, My Mansoul, Diabolus would have made a partnership with you.\n\n\"Therefore, nourish them. When you do well, they will be well. When you suffer misfortune, they will become ill, sick, and weak. Don't make My captains sick, Mansoul. For if they become sick, you can't be well. If they become weak, you can't be strong, and if they grow faint, you can't be brave and valiant for your King. You must not think to live by your own sense. You must live in consideration of My Word. You must believe, My Mansoul. Know that when I am away from you, I still love you and carry you within My heart forever.\n\n\"Remember, therefore, My Mansoul, that you are beloved by Me. Since I have taught you to watch, to fight, to pray, and to make war against My enemies, I now command you to believe that My love for you is constant. My Mansoul, I have set My heart and My love on you! Watch! Behold, I lay no other burden upon you than what you have already received. Hold fast, till I come.\" (Behold, I come quickly; hold fast that which thou hast, that no one take thy crown. – Revelation 3:11)\n\nBonus Section\n\nThe Life of John Bunyan\n\nJohn Bunyan was born sometime in the year 1628. The birth place was Elstow, in Bedfordshire – a village without any pretensions to the romantic or the picturesque. Had the development of genius depended upon the influence of the grand or the beautiful in nature, the young stranger was, prospectively, in a poor case. There are no mountains round about Elstow, no cataracts nor cascades, and no gorges nor ravines. It is a land of wheat and barley – a land wherein the people may eat bread without scarceness; but it is not a land out of whose hills they may dig brass.\n\nOf Bunyan's forefathers, history makes no mention. Even of his parents, hardly anything is known. The parish register contains no entry prior to his birth. One marriage is recorded after he was born, in addition to two births, two baptisms, and six burials. The family was destitute and unexceptional. Not only by the sweat of the brow had the father to obtain the daily bread, but the occupation by which he did so was the lowest of the low. He was a tinker, repairing pots and pans and other metal items. He traveled from place to place about the region for employment, but lived in Elstow.\n\nIt occurred to him that some learning would be advantageous to his boy. Although John's parents were impoverished and undistinguished, there was no reason why he should grow up to be an impoverished and insignificant man. Education might improve his lot in life.\n\nAt Bedford, close by, there was a free school for the children of the poor. It pleased God to put it into his parents' hearts to send him there to learn to read and write. John attended the school, but did not excel. As he afterwards confessed, he learned but little, and he soon forgot the little that he had learned. He was soon taken from school that he might work with his father in the art and mystery of pots and pans.\n\nJohn's ungodliness was as advanced as it was offensive. Few could equal him in cursing, swearing, lying, and blaspheming. He was the ringleader of the village immoralities – a great sin-breeder, infecting all the youth of the neighborhood with all manner of youthful vanities. He cared nothing for Holy Scripture, preferring a ballad or the local news. With old fables and curious arts he was familiar. He was, in act and in inclination, a notorious violator of the whole law of God, except for the seventh commandment forbidding adultery, of which he declares he had been scrupulously mindful. The desire was strong to take his fill of sin. It was his study to see what there was yet to be committed, and then to make as much haste as he could, lest he should die before he had gratified his desire.\n\nIn 1644, when Bunyan was about sixteen years old, he entered the army, taking part in the conflict that was then raging between the Parliament and the King. The probability is that he was a Royalist, although the general impression has been that he fought on the other side. The evidence is not conclusive, but his loyalty is so demonstrative, that he would hardly have been in arms against his sovereign, while his references to the depravity of his comrades indicate association with the Cavaliers, or Royalists, rather than with the Roundheads, or followers of Cromwell and supporters of Parliament. Prince Rupert was his hero, not Oliver Cromwell.\n\nOnce in particular, he was in great danger. At the siege of Leicester he was chosen to be among the soldiers who were to undertake an assault. Another man, though, obtained permission to go instead of Bunyan. Early in the attack, his substitute was shot with a musket ball and died. This incident greatly affected Bunyan, seeming to him to be a summons from the Lord to turn from the error of his ways. Nor was this the only summons. Several times before, he had been rescued from an untimely end. More than once he had been saved from drowning, when he was all but dead and gone.\n\nThese deliverances worked upon his soul. The goodness of God was leading him to repentance, but he resisted God's Spirit and became unhappy night and day. Fearful dreams and visions scared him. When running riot on the village green, he found himself frequently at his wits' end. God was angry with him. He was a doomed man.\n\nThat he might put these thoughts out of his mind, he plunged headlong into his old sins. He grew more and more rebellious against God, even neglecting his work so that he might have more time for his ungodliness and vice. For days together, consequently, he was destitute of bread to eat.\n\nSome friends kindly pitied him and advised him, among other things, to marry. With a good wife he might do better and escape the ruin that was at hand. He took their advice, and it was his mercy to find a woman whose father was counted godly. Prudent persons would have pronounced the engagement reckless. Even partial friends must have thought it premature; for, to say nothing of other things that they lacked, they had neither dish nor spoon between them. It was a great venture, to be approved, perhaps, when looked at in its results, but certainly not to be recommended for imitation in the prospect of a marriage life.\n\nThe new Mrs. Bunyan was not altogether lacking in items of worth, however, for she brought her husband two books. One was The Practice of Piety, by Lewis Bayly, and the other was Arthur Dent's The Plain Man's Pathway to Heaven. So degraded, however, had John become, that he had lost the faculty of reading with any ease, and she had to help him to repair the loss. Pleased with her devotion to him in marriage, he yielded to her entreaties and took kindly to his book. They read together, she interspersing sagacious remarks as they proceeded, hoping to persuade John to become a religious man. Her childhood home had been such a happy one; how pleasant it would be if her married home could be happy, too! There was no difficulty. If her husband would imitate her father, their house, with all its poverty, would soon be the house of God and the gate of heaven.\n\nBunyan's Birthplace at Elstow\n\nTo some extent, Mrs. Bunyan's pleas prevailed. John fell in eagerly with the religion of the times and went with the best of them to church twice a day. He greatly respected and admired the ministers of God; their name, their garments, and work did so intoxicate him.\n\nSundays at Elstow were a strange mixture of levity and seriousness. There were two full services at the church, according to the Book of Common Prayer, and then there were May games, Whitsun ales, morris dances, and various other sports. In the services and sports, to which the parishioners were summoned by the same church bells, Bunyan was accustomed to take his part. He was himself a good hand at ringing the church bells, ready at any time to challenge the whole countryside to a trial of skill at the belfry ropes. One Sunday, having rung the parish into church, he took his place as usual at his wife's side joining with the congregation in the service, and then awaiting the delivery of the discourse. The preacher was intelligent and earnest in setting forth the evils of breaking the Sabbath. The sermon did its work. It was meant for him. No more violation of the fourth commandment for John Bunyan. He was determined to obey it henceforward with heart and soul. His mind was made up once for all.\n\nThis impression, though, proved only to be temporary. Before he had well dined, he had shaken the sermon out of his thoughts and was prepared to return to the old sports and gaming with great delight. No sooner said than done. That very afternoon he was on the village green, flinging himself with his usual enthusiasm into a game of \"cat.'' Suddenly, he heard a voice from heaven. He thought for a moment, threw his \"cat\" upon the ground, and left off playing. He stood like a statue, trembling at the demand of the superhuman voice that he heard ask, \"Will you leave your sins, and go to heaven, or have your sins, and go to hell?\" He thought Christ was standing with him face to face, and that He had come to inflict the punishment which he had so well deserved. Bunyan did not need much time to decide. He heard, he considered, and he decided. He concluded that there could be no other result than that he would be damned for his wicked life; and, if it must be so, he might as well be damned for many sins as for one. So back he went to play, not a soul among his companions at all aware of the astounding processes of thought and feeling which had been going on within.\n\nHis conscience, however, was ill at ease. Mrs. Bunyan was incessant in her prudent endeavors to win him to Christ, and incidents were frequently occurring by which he was rebuked. \"You ungodly wretch!\" said a woman to him one day, as after his typical manner he was cursing and swearing and playing the fool in the street. \"You ungodly wretch! I never heard such swearing in my life. You are enough to spoil all the youth in the whole town.\" He was put to shame, especially since the woman who had reproved him was herself known for her sinful lifestyle. He wished with all his heart that he could be a little child again, and that he might learn to speak without that wicked way of swearing. The rebuke of the woman took effect. He left off swearing and became a reader of Scripture and a reformed man, both in his words and in his life. His neighbors took notice of the change. They began to speak well of him to his face and behind his back. This gratified him, and he was puffed up. There was not a man in England who could please God better than he. He was all right now, he thought.\n\nSelf-denial was required from him, and he religiously took up his cross. He was passionately fond of dancing, and for a full year he still adhered to it, sometimes on the village green, and at other times in a building yet standing on the green. Now, though, he believed that dancing was unholy, and wishing to be as holy as possible, he gave it up. Old associates entreated him, and the well-known music tempted him; but he resolved that he never would dance again, and he never did.\n\nAnother favorite amusement of his was bell-ringing, which was thought by some to be improper in excess or when it deviated from its worthwhile purpose and became a means of amusement. This, he felt, must also be relinquished. The religiousness on which he was entering demanded that it should at once be given up. Still, he liked it, and yearned after it, and went on. At last he gave in to the arguments of his conscience, and though he frequented the belfry, he would not ring. Perhaps, however, it was wrong to be in the place at all. One of the bells might fall as a judgment from God. To escape this jeopardy, he placed himself always under one of the main beams in the tower. But there was danger there, for a bell might so swing and rebound that the beam would be no security after all. Thus afraid, he never went further than the belfry door. Was he sure he was safe there? The tower might fall, and what then? That settled him. To be killed by a divine judgment would be disastrous to his profession of faith and fatal to his admission into heaven. He would wash his hands, therefore, of the ringing altogether, and he resolutely kept his word.\n\nAs with many who profess mere outward religion, John Bunyan believed that his way was now perfect before the Lord. A notable alteration had come upon his life and manners. He was sure of paradise at last. The improvement was confessedly marvelous. His wife could not contain herself for joy. Her household was getting to be like her father's. The marriage portion of the two books was bearing fruit. The Practice of Piety was being embodied in her husband's practice. In The Plain Man's Pathway to Heaven, John was walking right alongside her.\n\nUnhappily, it was all a mistake. The reformed one himself being our witness, he had not passed from death unto life, so as to become a new creature in Christ Jesus. Notwithstanding the change in his behavior, there had been no change of heart. He was still in need of the regeneration of the Holy Ghost.\n\nThere are men who are at issue with Bunyan about his spiritual condition. Some of his biographers have ridiculed and others have resented his claim that he was yet unsaved. They deny that he was either hardened or depraved. They thought that Bunyan must have been having fits of religious fervor, and so thought himself to be near to God or far from Him based upon his emotional state, that his alienation from his Maker was imaginary and not real.\n\nBut the biographers are wrong, and the man of Elstow right. Amendment of the life is not renewal of the nature. However admirable in itself, it is insufficient for salvation. To man, at his best estate, the oracles of God declare, You must be born again (John 3:7). While Bunyan's understanding and explanation of his spiritual condition at that time might have been intense and impassioned, its truth should not be denied. He described his condition accurately. His was the case of the Israelites exactly, who being ignorant of God's righteousness, and going about to establish their own righteousness, had not submitted themselves to the righteousness of God (Romans 10:3). He had a name that he lived, but he was dead (Revelation 3:1).\n\nBunyan's fundamental sensibility was remarkable. His instincts and impulses were flourishing, if not somewhat domineering. Where his neighbors were unmoved, he was agitated. Where they saw nothing that was unusual, he was either in ecstasies or tears.\n\nThis peculiarity must be borne well in mind, lest Bunyan's words and actions at this time are thought to be characteristic of all spiritual conversions rather than exclusively to the temperament and characteristics of Bunyan himself. Some people do not seem to show much emotion, while the emotions and passions of others seem to rise and fall as unevenly as ocean waves during a great storm.\n\nConversion is essential to salvation, but conversion may come to pass without our being so humiliated as to loathe ourselves like toads, as Bunyan described, and without our being so excited as to want to speak of God's love to the very crows that are sitting on the ploughed lands. Our new birth may be as certain as was the pilgrim's, although we have never thought, with Bunyan, that the devil was pulling at our clothes, and have never been ready with him to swoon with satisfaction at the thought of Christ's pity for our souls. Every man is affected spiritually according to his temperament. Bunyan was thus affected, rather by the great and strong wind than by the still small voice.\n\nAnd yet, the act of his transition from death unto life was unobserved. There is no specific moment in Bunyan's life when it can be said that he was made a new creation. All his accounts and statements justify the opinion that it was a work of time. He went on, believing that he was pleasing God as well as any man in England, though having incessant regret and sorrow due to his failures in this area. The failures multiplied, and Bunyan regularly alternated between presumptuous self-righteousness and miserable despair.\n\nHis Conversion and Profession\n\nHis business took him into Bedford one day, and it was good for him that it was business which he could follow in the streets. A few poor women were sitting at a door as he passed by. It occurred to him to put his barrow down there and to listen to their discussion. They looked like religious women, and he thought that perhaps he might have a chance of joining in the religious talk – a practice, as he tells his wife, he liked to do now. As he listened, he was amazed. No sermon at Elstow Church had ever informed him of the necessity of the new birth, of the treachery of the human heart, of the temptations of the Wicked One, of the grace of the Holy Ghost, or of the sovereignty and compassion of God in Christ. The things thus spoken of by the women struck him with great force. If it was true, then he certainly was lacking in the genuine evidence of a godly man, and what they were saying seemed to be true. The women were so simple in their manner, and so happy; there was such appearance of grace in all they said, that their intelligence and sincerity were beyond doubt.\n\nAs they kept on their conversation, Bunyan's work at his barrow resumed and stopped more than once, momentous exercises of soul going on all the while. God was making the man willing to rejoice in Christ Jesus and to have no further confidence in the flesh.\n\nBunyan Listening to the Old Women at Bedford\n\nBunyan sought the acquaintance of these invaluable helpers. They were cheerfully at his service, and did their best to expound to him the way of God more perfectly. Two results ensued: the one, Bunyan's heart softly and tenderly received what the women brought from Holy Scripture; and the other, a great bending of the mind to a continual meditating on the good things of which he heard and read. The Scripture was about to be fulfilled, that he should know the truth, and that the truth should make him free (John 8:32). But the process went forward slowly. Certain men, who were turning the grace of God into lasciviousness, met with him, and labored hard to infect him with their delusions. The devil, too, brought him into great straits, leading him to think of the child who was thrown down and sorely vexed as his father was bringing him to Christ (Luke 9:42). What right had John Bunyan to say that he had the necessary faith? He had no evidence that he had been elected to salvation. He could not tell that the day of grace was not already past and gone.\n\nTo these temptations he answered as best he could. He wrestled manfully, but every now and then he would almost meet with defeat. \"Try a miracle,\" was the suggestion that entered his mind one morning as he was on his way to Bedford. \"Say to the puddles in the horse ponds, 'Be dry,' and to the dry places, 'Be puddles.'\" He was in the act of saying it, even in the divine name, when the thought came into his mind to go first under a nearby hedge and pray that God would make him able. This delay was his deliverance. He perceived his danger, and he escaped.\n\n\"Abandon your hope,\" was the suggestion another day. \"Unless the great God, of His infinite grace and bounty, has voluntarily chosen you to be a vessel of mercy, though you long and labor until your heart breaks, no good will come of it.\" He saw the difficulty which was thus craftily proposed to him, and was at a very great standstill. For weeks he was oppressed and cast down, when one day a passage came into mind about the blessedness of the man who simply made God his trust. The words greatly lightened and encouraged him; but, to his regret, he could not find them in his Bible. He searched, and got others to search; but it was more than a year before the words were found, and then it turned out that they were in the Apocrypha. As there was no authority whatever in the Apocrypha, Bunyan was about to lose hope in those words, when he remembered that there were just the same kind of words in Holy Scripture, and of them he might be sure (for example, Romans 4:6-8; Psalm 32:1-2). Thus he put the Wicked One to silence. He could trust in the Lord, and the generations of old were the witnesses that no man who trusted in the Lord would be confounded. He was doing it, not being able to express with what longings and breakings in his soul he cried unto Christ to save him, so that he might come into a converted state.\n\nUp to this time he had kept his spiritual turmoil to himself. An occasion at length arose when he was moved to disclose it to those poor women who had taken him so kindly by the hand. They gave heed to his conversation and replied to the best of their ability. Before long, however, they were baffled by his interrogations, not at all knowing how such mysteries could be explained. Perhaps their minister, Mr. Gifford, could explain them. They obtained an interview with him, and so far engaged his sympathies that Bunyan was invited to his house. Nothing better could have happened. Gifford's sensible judgment and larger knowledge brought his new friend's impetuous and prolific imagination under discipline and restraint. Private conversations with his people about the dealings of God with their souls was one way in which the pastor aimed to promote their edification; and to these conferences the Elstow artisan was introduced. Many of his mistakes were subtly corrected, and a sounder habit of apprehending the will of God was gradually found. He was recommended to accustom his mind to closer and more diligent thought upon what God had set down by his own Spirit in the Holy Word. Bunyan began to rely more upon the Word of God and less upon his emotion and imagination.\n\nThe immediate result was a renewal of his distress. It seemed to him that he was a most grievous transgressor. The more he meditated, the more he trembled. Through the influence of his active and imperious impulse, he was overwhelmed. He thought that he was like a child whom some Gypsy had taken up by force under her apron, and carried away from its friend and country. He heard a voice calling to him quite half a mile behind him. He counted the condition of the dog or the toad preferable to his own. He would have given a fortune to have been able to repent and mourn over his sin. He was sure that he was possessed with a devil.\n\nBunyan remained strenuous in prayer and steadfast in his study of the Scriptures, hoping against hope. It came to pass that he was sitting in a neighbor's house, very sad, when the word came to him suddenly, If God be for us, who can be against us? (Romans 8:31). Soon after, as he was going into the country, that other word came to him, He has made peace by the blood of His cross (Colossians 1:20). Just then, while sitting by the fire in his house, another word came to him, Forasmuch as the children are partakers of flesh and blood, Christ Himself likewise took part of the same (Hebrews 2:14). These \"hints,\" as he calls them – \"touches,\" \"short visits\" – did not last, but like Peter's sheet, were suddenly caught from him up into heaven (Acts 10:16).\n\nIt would have been better for Bunyan if he had remembered that the comforting words of God were not caught away, that they were still within his reach, to minister to his peace. God's Word remained certain and constant, even while Bunyan's emotions continued to rise and fall. The grounds for his consolation in Christ was not his feelings, but the divine assurance that Christ had put away his sins by the sacrifice of Himself.\n\nDuring a brief season of evangelical tranquility, Bunyan desired to read about some ancient godly man's experience who had lived some hundreds of years before he was born. He supposed that the modern religious writings were theoretic and superficial, their authors never having gone down themselves into the deeps of sorrow and despair. Bunyan came across a copy of Luther's commentary on the book of Galatians. It was so old that it was ready to fall to pieces as he turned it over; but, clumsy and hard-handed as he was through dealing with the barrow and the tools, he examined Luther's writings carefully and skillfully, and in due time he was master of the book. It was the most well-suited thing imaginable for Bunyan at this time, for Luther was a man who had similar passion and emotional contrasts. No other book was ever so precious to him, except for the Word of God.\n\nThe interval of peace was short, and the next encounter with temptation was the worst of all. For a whole year, and almost without any intermission, he was tempted to sell Christ – to stop seeking Him and return to the world. This monstrous idea was realized by him with a distinctness which it is difficult for us to realize. Lying one morning in his bed, the words were heard by him as fast as a man could speak, \"Sell him,\" \"Sell him,\" \"Sell him.\" He kept on answering, \"No; not for thousands, thousands, thousands.\" But at last, after much striving, the thought found a place in his heart, \"Let Him go if He will,\" and he felt that his heart freely consented thereto. Bunyan, now crushed in spirit, supposed that his heart had become hard, that he had rejected Christ for good, and that he had no more hope of salvation.\n\nThere was nothing for him now but the worm that never dieth (Mark 9:48). Down he fell, as a bird that was shot from the top of a tree, into great guilt and fearful despair, and for two years he suffered almost unmitigated woe. Now and then some words of Christ occasioned temporary hope; but the remembrance occurred, and he was overpowered: \"You have sold your Saviour, and you are damned.\"\n\nBunyan's case was a remarkable one throughout. Others ought not attempt to imitate it, yet we might perhaps do well to become much more familiar with the sin and the sinfulness of our own hearts, and the exceeding sinfulness of our sin in the sight of God. Bunyan's case ought to cause us to realize, too, how active and strong our adversary the devil is in attempting to keep sinners from the Savior.\n\nBunyan mentions an instance when he met with temporary relief. Being ready to sink with fear, it was as if there had rushed in at the window the noise of wind upon him, but very pleasant, and he heard a voice speaking to him, \"Did you ever refuse to be justified by the blood of Christ?\"\n\nHis heart answered groaningly, \"No.\" Then that word of God fell upon him with power, See that you refuse not Him who speaks (Hebrews 12:25). This took a strange hold upon his spirit, and for a time calmed those tumultuous thoughts which, like masterless hell­hounds, used to roar and bellow. The respite of this appreciable reprieve lasted three or four days, and then he began to mistrust and despond again.\n\nEventually, however, deliverance was effectually and permanently wrought. As he was passing through a field, this sentence fell upon his soul: \"Thy righteousness is in heaven.\" With the eye of his soul he saw Jesus Christ at the right hand of God, as his own personal righteousness, so that wherever he was, or whatever he was doing, God could not say of him, \"He lacks My righteousness,\" because there it was before his eye, inasmuch as Christ and His people were all one. The believer's good frame of heart did not make his righteousness the better, nor his bad frame make it worse, since his righteousness was Christ Himself, who is the same yesterday, today, and forever. None other than the gate of heaven was that field to Bunyan. Then and there he came out of the bondage of corruption and into the glorious liberty of the children of God.\n\nOf the memorable spiritual fluctuations through which he had been passing, he subsequently made a summary; and, having accounted for them on the grounds of the feebleness of his faith in prayer, of the indifference of his soul to his incessant eternal danger, and of his presumption in having, on one occasion, prescribed what God should do, he concluded that they had been overruled mightily to his advantage, and that, like Job after his great difficulties, he had twice as much blessedness as ever had been his lot before. One most characteristic sentence is found in his summary; having quoted the passage, Him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out (John 6:37), he says, \"Oh! many a pull hath my heart had with Satan for that blessed sixth [chapter] of John.\"\n\nIt had been evident to others for a long time that their friend belonged to Christ, and now he was of that mind himself. He could neither specify the moment nor define the act of his transition into life, but he really was alive unto God.\n\nThe next thing he realized, as he continued to learn from the divine Word, was the need to confess Christ before men. He accordingly explained his desire to the church of his choice to walk with it in the ordinances of Christ. He was cheerfully accepted, and having been baptized, was enrolled in the membership of that church. On his participation of the Lord's Supper, he felt as if he were plunged into the virtue of the death of Christ. Very precious were the words to him, Do this in remembrance of Me (Luke 22:19, 1 Corinthians 11:24-25).\n\nAbout this time he was seized by what seemed to be pulmonary consumption, or tuberculosis. He rallied and then fell ill again, but ultimately recovered and became robust. During his illness he passed through several notable fluctuations of religious feeling; but overall, he was enabled to rejoice in God.\n\n\"Wife,\" said he, as he was sitting by the fire on his recovery, \"is there ever such a Scripture as this: 'I must go to Jesus?'\" At the moment she did not recollect. They thought together for two or three minutes, when a passage in Hebrews was remembered. \"Wife, now I know, I know: We are come unto Jesus, the mediator of the New Covenant\" (Hebrews 12:22-24). He went to his bed overjoyed, but could scarce lie there for the triumph that he had in Christ.\n\nBunyan Studying Luther\n\nHis health having been restored, he diligently carried out the duties of his church membership, rendering effectual help to his pastor in meetings for devotion and in visiting the sick. His ability in these respects was so conspicuous, that his brethren by common consent made him a deacon of the church, committing to him the secular service of the sanctuary and the official attention to the poor. Having moved from Elstow to Bedford, he accepted the office of deacon and used it well, earning himself a good reputation throughout the neighborhood. At this time he was a widower, but of the circumstances of his bereavement we have no account.\n\nAn entry in the Bedford church book indicates Bunyan's advancement in the esteem of his brethren. \"At a meeting held on the 27th of the 6th month, 1657, the deacon's office was transferred from John Bunyan to John Pernie, because he could no longer discharge its duties aright, in consequence of his being so much employed in preaching.\" Some of his fellow members had desired him to speak a word of exhortation to them at their private meetings; and, although much humbled in spirit at their request, he had consented, and in two several assemblies had discovered his gifts to them. These exercises confirmed their opinion, and they then invited him to take his turn in their village preachings. His compliance from time to time was so satisfactory, that of his call to the ministry his companions had no doubt.\n\nThey reported their opinion to the pastor, who in due time communicated to the church his own belief that they were right. The result was that, after solemn prayer to the Lord, with fasting, Bunyan was called forth and appointed to the more ordinary and public preaching of the Word. With great fear and trembling at the sight of his own weakness, he applied himself to the work; not, however, without God's Spirit urging him on, and with great encouragement from the Scriptures. He had further encouragement besides, for the country all around came to hear the Word by hundreds. Many confessed and affirmed that they had been awakened by him, so that the Word of God came with much refreshment to his heart. He wrote, \"The blessing of him that was ready to perish came upon me, and I caused the widow's heart to sing for joy.\" Necessity was undoubtedly laid upon him, and it soon came to this: Yea, woe is unto me, if I preach not the gospel (1 Corinthians 9:16).\n\nHis Suffering for Conscience's Sake\n\nThe old inquiry was soon proposed to Bunyan, By what authority do you do these things, and who gave you this authority? (Matthew 21:23). The answer was at hand. His ability to preach was his authority; especially as of that ability a judgment had been pronounced by the church to which he belonged. With most anxious and prayerful care, his brethren had summoned him to the service, and in that summons he recognized the voice of God. All the ordination which he required he had thus obtained.\n\nIt happened, though, that the government of the day demanded another kind of ordination. Only ordained ministers were allowed to preach, and they had to have the official approval of the Commonwealth.\n\nBunyan, denying the right of the state to judge in such matters, paid no attention, but went on his way. Complaint was lodged against him, and he was indicted for preaching at Eaton. After special prayer on the 3rd of March, 1658, his brethren took measures for his defense. They were so far successful that the charges against Bunyan were dropped.\n\nWith the Restoration of the Stuarts came one of the fiercest assaults on religious freedom which ecclesiastical tyranny has ever made. Such ministry as Bunyan's was forbidden under the severest penalties. He could continue it only at the peril of his life. There was no safe alternative but to hold his peace.\n\nFor a time he adopted this alternative of silence, although he did occasionally wear disguises so that he might pass unmolested to various out-of-the-way places, where amidst the darkness of the night, he had agreed to preach. He greatly disliked the disguising, and at length made up his mind to preach at any risk. Having been asked to come to Samsell, where the villagers were anxious to hear the Word, he replied that he would come as they desired, if God willed. A congregation gathered from the places round about, and the preacher was at his post; but disappointment was at hand. The authorities, having heard that he was coming, were prepared to enforce the law. They had their officers on the watch, with a warrant already signed for his apprehension, in case he should dare to preach.\n\nBunyan was informed of the danger, and the question was raised whether the service should be postponed to some other time. As it was, he might be arrested, but there was a fair chance for his escape. John Bunyan would not even consider escaping, though. He thought that since God in His mercy had chosen him to go preach to those who were in despair and in need of the hope found only in Jesus Christ, it would be a discouragement to the whole body if he should run away. Further, he thought that the world would take occasion from his cowardliness to blaspheme the gospel. So the momentous Samsell meeting went on.\n\nBunyan had offered up the opening prayer, to which the brethren had responded by a full-hearted \"Amen.\" Then, with tones which told of struggle between the apprehensive and the brave, he read out his text, Do you believe on the Son of God? (John 9:35). He was proceeding, when in walked the constable, who arrested him on the spot. The warrant having been produced, there was no alternative but submission, and the prisoner went with the constable, as he required. But let the brethren be of good courage. Their preacher might have been apprehended as a thief or a murderer. Blessed be God that it was not so. Far better to be the persecuted than the persecutors in such a case as theirs.\n\n\"No more of that,\" said the constable. \"The justice won't wait; you must come along.\" They were too late, for Justice Wingate was gone away. As a great favor, the prisoner was released for the night on a sort of bail. In the morning, Bunyan met the constable, and they went their way to the courtroom. Wingate raised a discussion before he was aware, insisting that a tinker had no right to preach. That, it was replied, depended on the tinker's character and capability. The judge reminded Bunyan that the law commanded him not to preach, and that he had better give it up. Let him simply find people to give the judge assurance to that effect, and he should go free. His friends would, no doubt, give him that assurance. The document was already drawn up. All Bunyan had to do was agree to preach no more, and he could go free.\n\nArrest of Bunyan\n\nTo what were Bunyan's friends to agree? That he should desist from preaching. Bunyan assured Justice Wingate that his friends should decline the responsibility, for, as sure as truth was truth, he would go and preach immediately upon his release. The clerk was then ordered to prepare a written court order directing Bunyan to be taken to jail, for to jail he must go. As he was departing, an old acquaintance, Dr. Lidall, came into the courtroom. A curious conversation ensued. The doctor reviled Bunyan as a descendant of the notorious coppersmith who had resisted the apostles (2 Timothy 4:14-15). Bunyan retorted that the apostles were resisted by priests and Pharisees as well as by coppersmiths, and that, peradventure, there were descendants of those priests and Pharisees not far off. Lidall was exasperated and went on, deserving a severer response from Bunyan; but Bunyan refrained, sparing his speech as much as he could without prejudice to the truth.\n\nThe result was that on the 13th of November, 1660, Bunyan was committed to jail on the charge of going about to several illegal religious meetings in the country, to the great disparagement of the government of the Church of England.\n\nAnother effort was made to save him. A Mr. Forbes urged him to give up his unseemly ecclesiastical practices, assuring him, with as much kindness as earnestness, that he had no right to preach. Bunyan respectfully but firmly contradicted. He was then taken away to jail. As he was going forth out of the courtroom, he found it difficult to hold back from saying to them that he carried the peace of God along with him; but he was silent, and went away to prison with God's comfort in his poor soul.\n\nAt the ensuing sessions (the times of year when criminal cases were heard by the justices), a bill of indictment was brought against Bunyan, in which he was charged with having devilishly and wickedly abstained from going to church, and with being a common upholder of illegal religious meetings, contrary to the laws. He was required to plead guilty, but refused. In one sense of the word \"church\" he was a frequenter, and not an absentee. But did he go to his parish church? No; and, the court consenting, he mentioned the reasons why. This led to an altercation, in which, though cruelly taunted and maligned, Bunyan maintained his temper and persisted in his course. He was no enemy to the existing government. He avowed that he was one of the old-fashioned persons who coveted to fear God and honor the king, but he dared not disobey the King of kings; and, as God had commanded that every man should minister according to the gift which had been given him (I Peter 4:10), he, the prisoner, must needs minister in the preaching of the Word. He was as ready as any justice on the bench to render unto Caesar the things which were Caesar's; he could not, however render unto Caesar the things which were God's (Matthew 22:21). After Bunyan spoke, his punishment was inevitable, and thus the sentence was given: \"You must be had back again to prison, and there lie for three months following; and at three months' end, if you do not submit and go to church to hear divine service, and leave your preaching, you must be banished from the realm; and if, after such a day as shall be appointed you to be gone, you shall be found in this realm, you must stretch by the neck for it.\" And so the jailer led him away.\n\nThe prison was one of the worst in the kingdom, well designated by himself \"a Den.\" There were but two cells and one small court, all on a level with the river Ouse. Thirty persons would have filled the place, but sixty were frequently shut up there day and night. To a man of thirty-two years, accustomed to exercise and the free air, such confinement must have been dreadful. A single week of it would suffice to put his resolution to the test. Many thought that he would not be able to submit to humiliation and suffering like that for long. If he could get the opportunity, then he would certainly retract. The justices thought so, and sent the clerk of the peace, Mr. Cobb, to assure the prisoner of their goodwill, and to persuade him to accept his release by promising not to preach. The messenger pressed him. It was bad enough that Bunyan should be in jail, the companion of felons; but it would be far worse when the sessions came, for then the heavier sentence would be passed. \"It will go worse with you,\" said Cobb, \"even to being sent away out of the nation, or else worse than that.\"\n\nThe Old Prison of Bedford\n\nThe interview continued for hours, but it produced no effect. Paul acknowledged that the powers in his day were of God, and yet he was often in prison. Jesus Christ told Pilate that he had no power against Him but of God, yet He died under Pilate; and the prisoner hoped the clerk of the peace would not say that either Paul or Christ denied magistracy. The law provided two ways of obeying. In cases which approved themselves to a man's conscience, he was bound to obey actively; and Bunyan was ready so to do. In cases which offended a man's conscience, he was bound to obey passively, even to lie down and suffer what should be done to him. For this also he was ready, even unto the death.\n\nOn hearing that this was his determination, Cobb sat still and said no more. The prisoner thanked him for his civil and meek discoursing, and so they parted, with the prayer that they might meet in heaven. Noxious and nauseous as was the den, John Bunyan went back to abide the results.\n\nIt happened that a coronation came; and, according to the national custom, all prisoners except the very worst were pardoned. Bunyan received no pardon. His enemies resorted to legal quibbles to his disadvantage, so that his hopes and endeavors were unavailing, and he was detained. His wife (about a year before his imprisonment he had married again) went to London with a petition, but it came to nothing. The only chance now was with the judges who were coming to the court sessions. They might, on the strength of the coronation pardon, order him to be released. On their arrival, Bunyan wanted to go to them and ask for his release, but permission was refused. Nothing was left but for his wife to go. A brave-hearted and sagacious woman as she was, she gained access to the judges several times, and so far prevailed, that a long discussion was raised upon the merits of the case. Well and wisely and warmly did she plead; but although the Lord Chief Justice evinced singular sympathy with her distress, he would not interfere. There were two or three ways, he said, which she might try for getting the sentence cancelled; but she had not the means for trying them, and so imprisonment went on.\n\nThat he might employ himself and support his family, Bunyan worked away at the somewhat inglorious occupation of tagging with a tin point the common shoe and stay laces which were then in vogue, and he had as much work as he could do. At intervals, he read the few books within his reach, giving the most indefatigable and systematic attention to the Word of God.\n\nEfforts were made at the next sessions to secure his freedom. They were met invariably with the demand, \"Will he undertake to leave off preaching?\" If he would, there was no obstacle. Bunyan would not agree to stop preaching, though, and so the obstacle remained. For six years, he never left the den, enduring as best he could the foul compound of unwholesomeness which sent John Howard, the prison reformer, on his mission of self-sacrificing zeal a century later.\n\nThere were times when John Bunyan was well-nigh overwhelmed. The parting with his wife and poor children was often as painful as pulling the flesh from his bones; and that not only because he was somewhat too fond of these visits by his wife and children, but also because he often thought about the many hardships they were likely to meet with should he be taken from them. He especially thought of his oldest daughter, Mary, who had been born blind. \"Poor child!\" he thought. \"What sorrow you are likely to have for your portion in this world! You would likely be beaten, suffer hunger, cold, nakedness, and a thousand calamities, though I cannot now endure that the wind should blow upon you.\" But, recalling himself, he recovered strength and committed his helpless ones unto the Lord. He was pulling down his house upon the head of his wife and children, but he must do it.\n\nHe conceived for a while that he might be banished and die in a ditch, or that his imprisonment would end at the gallows, but he could not give up his right to preach. Deliverance from his sufferings would have overjoyed him, for he often groaned, being burdened; but he would not purchase his freedom by disloyalty to Christ.\n\nFor twelve years the imprisonment continued, some of his jailers being kindly affectioned, and others oppressively unkind. To the friendliness of kindly ones must be ascribed the occasional alleviations of prison life. Not only was the place made more tolerable, but permission was given to visit his brethren, even in the metropolis, upon his word of honor that he would return. The fact got reported, and one night a messenger from the authorities awoke the jailer with the demand to see Bunyan. As it happened, Bunyan was there. He had returned only an hour or two before, under the impression that his enemies were just then on the alert. Whatever kindliness their subordinates might show to him, the magistrates and authorities would show none.\n\nBunyan in Prison\n\nDeliverance at length drew nigh. In March, 1672, the king issued a declaration authorizing all Nonconformists, except the Papists, to meet for public worship and devotion, in such places and under such ministers as should be licensed from time to time. The spirit of this declaration involved the release of the Nonconformists, who were everywhere in jail. Attempts were accordingly made to obtain their release, especially by certain Quakers, whose brethren constituted the largest number of the sufferers for conscience's sake. Through the indefatigable and costly investigations of George Offor, Esq., facts have been discovered which correct several popular mistakes as to the way in which the sufferers were set free. The facts are given by Mr. Offor at length, in his elaborate and masterly memoir of Bunyan. The following is a specimen in brief:\n\n\"You have seen me before,\" said one who was representing the Quakers before King Charles.\n\n\"Where?\" asked the king.\n\n\"On board the ship that carried you safe to France after the Worcester fight.\"\n\n\"I remember.\"\n\n\"And don't you remember that a privateer was chasing us, and that some of us rowed you ashore, and that, getting into shallow water, one of us took you on his shoulders, and carried you high and dry up to a village close by?\"\n\n\"Well.\"\n\n\"The man who carried you ashore that day was I; and now I come to ask you to be kind to my brethren in their distress, as I was kind to you in yours.\"\n\nThe whole scene came up to the royal recollection. This man, Richard Carver, at an important crisis had been a friend in need. He certainly deserved remuneration, but these Nonconformists were so fanatical, that if they were let out of jail, they would repeat all their offences, and be sent back again. The old sailor pressed his application notwithstanding, and reminded His Majesty that the laws which would send them back were bad laws that ought to be repealed. In his good nature, Charles told the Quaker that he might renew his request another time. No time was lost, and other Quakers joining in the application, Carver carried his point for the liberation of the Nonconformists of every name.\n\nSome delay took place, but on the 13th of September, 1672, an order was signed which set Bunyan free. He found that his affairs were gone to wreck, and that he had to begin again as if he had newly come into the world. Before his liberation, a license had been sent to him from the king to preach, and Mr. Gifford being dead, it had been resolved by the church that he should become their pastor, in case he concurred with their desire.\n\nAfter the manner of the apostles, he had been the prisoner of the Lord. He had taken joyfully the spoiling of his goods, not reckoning his life dear to him, that he might assert and vindicate the prerogative of the Head of the Church. The prohibition which had been served upon him not to preach was a dishonor done to Christ. The suppression of free prayer was an offence against the Holy Ghost. He had, therefore, no alternative but to stand on his defense. His loyalty to heavenly authority necessitated disloyalty to earthly authority. He could not obey ecclesiastical law, because it was at variance with divine law. He went to prison, and there he would have remained until he died, not at the impulse of foolhardy fanaticism or desperate partisanship, but at the dictate of reverence and godly fear. As seeing Him who is invisible (Hebrews 11:27), he did not dare to forego the privilege of pouring out his heart before the Lord extemporaneously; neither did he dare to abandon the ministry which he had received of the Lord Jesus, to testify to the gospel of the grace of God.\n\nHis Ministry and Pastorate\n\nBunyan believed that he had received his ministry from the Lord. The belief was like the burden of the Lord upon his soul. The longing to proclaim the glad tidings was as a fire within his bones. Hence, throughout his long imprisonment, unless when prohibited, he was the servant of his fellow prisoners for Jesus' sake. His services were generally to edification; now and then they were pervaded with remarkable impressiveness and power. He mentions one occasion, when in the prison chamber, he felt unable to speak so much as five words. The congregation was waiting, and the text was from Revelation 21 about the holy Jerusalem descending out of heaven from God. Some dim glimmerings of the jasper fell upon his eye, and he began to think that he should see further. He carried his meditations with a few groans to the Lord. Help was forthwith granted, and the brethren did all eat and were filled. The distribution of the portion so increased that he gathered up a basketful of fragments after they had well dined. The Spirit of God moved among the prisoners that day as Bunyan spoke to them.\n\nExercises such as this were preparing him for his ministerial duties as the pastor of a church of Christ. Through the diligent study of his Bible and the careful cultivation of his spiritual gifts, Bunyan was becoming an eloquent man and mighty in the Scriptures. Upon his release, he found a large meetinghouse awaiting him, which had been duly registered; and there the people gathered in great numbers from the first. His sermons were prepared with deep and devout study. After the sermons were preached, depending on his opinion of them, they were sometimes written out for further use. His resources were scanty; he had little else at first but the Word of God and prayer. He found his help and his inspiration, as he was continually declaring, from a higher source. To draw water from his own cistern was his delight; daring to make bold only with what God had made his own by the evidence of the Word and Spirit. This great Bible habit of Bunyan's was obvious in every sermon he composed. The occurrence of Scripture was not only incessant, but appropriate and conclusive, exhibiting without any intention a remarkable phase of the unity of Scripture and the analogy of faith. The plainest phraseology and style were adopted. His idea was that words easy to be understood often hit the mark, whereas high and learned words only pierce the air. In no sense were his statements an uncertain sound. His ministry was comprehensible at once. The common people heard him gladly, while those who were more difficult to please found no occasion for complaint. He expressed himself clearly without being crude, and spoke directly without being rough.\n\nIn the delivery of his sermons he had the advantage of a sharp, quick eye, a fine voice, and an agreeable address. By nature and grace alike he was qualified to be a good minister of Jesus Christ. No wonder, therefore, that his meetinghouse was always crowded, many being constrained to stand without. There was power in the preacher that was felt throughout the neighborhood, all sorts of persons striving to partake of his instructions.\n\nAt stated times he visited the neighboring villages, and branch churches were formed which continue to this day. Now and then visits were paid to the metropolis, where his popularity was quite as great as it was at home. A day's notice was enough to secure a large congregation. We quote from a contemporary: \"I have seen, to hear him preach, by my computation, 1,200 people by seven o'clock on a working morning, in the dark winter time. I also computed about 3,000 that came to hear him one Lord's day at London, at a town's end meetinghouse, so that half were required to go back again for lack of room; and then Bunyan himself was required, at a back door, to be pulled almost over people to get up the stairs to his pulpit.\" It was the spectacle of his early ministry over again when, in strange out-of-the-way places in Bedfordshire and Herts, a thousand people would gather to a preaching at dead of night. His popularity affected him with awe. He humbled himself before the Lord. Unless grace were given to him from heaven, he should be exalted above measure, and the devil would lead him captive at his will.\n\nBunyan Preaching in the Open Air\n\nSomewhat severe discipline was permitted to follow. Rumors came into circulation grievously to his disadvantage. It was asserted that he had broken the seventh commandment (do not commit adultery), and it was insinuated that he had broken the ninth commandment (do not bear false witness against your neighbor), as well. A Mr. Beaumont died suddenly. His daughter, who had been previously turned out of her home for attending Bunyan's preaching, had just before been received back home, on promising that she would no longer go to hear John Bunyan preach. She regretted her promise, and implored her father to cancel his prohibition. One night, as he was retiring to rest, she pressed her entreaty with such earnestness that he was greatly moved. During the night, he died.\n\nThe report was raised that he had been poisoned, that his daughter had administered the poison, and that her minister had instructed her how she should proceed. The report aroused the neighborhood. The woman was a murderess and the Nonconformist preacher was her paramour. The rumor was spread that though Bunyan was a husband and father, he was also a scandalous adulterer, if not something worse. Judgment would overtake him now. An inquest was held, preliminary to other measures, which were already vigorously in hand; but with the inquest, the matter ended. The accusers, having been rebuked by the coroner for their audacity, were well-nigh driven out of court by the jeers and disgust of those in attendance. \"For a wind-up of the matter,\" said Bunyan, \"I call God for a record upon my soul that I am innocent. Not that I have been kept because of any goodness in myself; but God has been merciful to me, and kept me, to whom I pray that He will keep me still.\"\n\nThis vexatious trial wrought advantageously. The preaching increased in its efficiency, and the preacher was held in yet higher reputation as a good minister of Jesus Christ. Invitations were given him by other and larger churches. Inducements were offered to him of a more plentiful income to keep his station, but he was immovable. Bedford, with its neighborhood, was his sphere, provided always that he might go as opportunity offered, and preach and do good elsewhere. As \"Bishop Bunyan,\" which had come to be his designation, he spared no pains or labor in travelling to the remote counties where he thought the people stood in need of his assistance. He was permitted to preach and give counsel now, without any dread of molestation; and, therefore, although he habitually objected to the state of religion that made his preaching elsewhere necessary, he turned it to good account. From the vocation of a preacher he never swerved, whether through evil or through good report.\n\nThe following relation is given by his friend Charles Doe:\n\n\"As Mr. Bunyan was upon the road, near Cambridge, there overtook him a scholar who had observed him preaching, and said to him, 'How dare you preach, seeing you have not the original texts, and are no scholar!'\n\nThen said Mr. Bunyan, 'Have you, the original?'\n\n'Yes,' said the scholar.\n\n'Nay, but,' said Mr. Bunyan, 'have you the very selfsame original copies that were written by the penmen of the Scriptures, the prophets and apostles themselves?'\n\n'No,' said the scholar; 'but we have the true copies of those originals.'\n\n'How do you know that?' said Mr. Bunyan.\n\n'How?' said the scholar, 'How? Why, we believe that what we have is a true copy of the original.'\n\n'Exactly,' said Mr. Bunyan; 'and so do I believe that an English Bible is a true copy of the original.'\n\nThen away went the scholar.\"\n\nThe seed of the Word fell into good ground. Many were converted and added unto the Lord. The church under his care constantly increased, and as an under-shepherd, he labored diligently for its welfare. He carefully attended to the administration of the ordinances, and he strenuously insisted that they were to be regularly observed. Bunyan believed that they were not grace, but were a means of grace. The Lord's Supper did not supply the body and the blood of Christ, but it represented them. The pastor believed that the representation and the sign availed much for the dying indeed unto sin, and for the walking in newness of life. To neglect them was to lose a privilege and to commit a fault.\n\nHe visited the sick with conscientious and sympathizing care. In cases of differences amongst the brethren, he promptly intervened. For seekers after truth, with their manifold anxieties, he had helpful and congenial counsel. With the members who were gone to other places, he corresponded, consenting, when they had become residents elsewhere, to consult with the church as to a transference of their membership to some sister church. To the discipline due to offenders, he adhered at any cost. He admonished privately in the first instance; if he failed, he reported the case to the brethren; and if, on examination, they felt that punishment was deserved, he expounded the law relating to the offence, and the punishment ensued.\n\nThe readiness to punish was always accompanied by an equal readiness to forgive. Only let a man who had been put away demonstrate remorse, and the pastor delighted to facilitate his restoration and to build him up in his most holy faith.\n\nWith all this, Bunyan did not monopolize service to God. He was over the brotherhood in the Lord. He was the occupant of the pulpit and the pastor of the church, but he deemed every member of the body a fellow laborer, and introduced him to such service as he was best able to perform. The younger and the older ones were familiarized with their privileges and responsibilities, the effort being common to them all alike, both to strive together for the faith of the gospel and to bear one another's burdens, in fulfilment of the law of Christ (Philippians 1:27; Galatians 6:2).\n\nIn these several ways, care was taken of the church over which the Holy Ghost had made him an overseer. He fed it with the bread of life; he trained it for works of faith; he exercised it unto godliness; he inspired it with self-denying zeal; and he kept it from contention that would have been disreputable and disastrous, by committing it to a generous contention for the faith once delivered unto the saints (Jude 1:3).\n\nHis Authorship\n\nBunyan was familiar with the handling of the pen. It was a pleasure to him to write. Composition trickled from his heart to his head, and from there through his fingers to the page. It may, indeed, be conjectured that the act of writing was laborious and somewhat slow. Judging from the earlier specimens of his penmanship, it must have taken a good while to get his smallest books ready for the press. The mind evidently outstripped the hand.\n\nHe became an author in 1656, almost as soon as he became a preacher, and his first work was controversial. It was entitled Some Gospel Truths Opened, According to the Scriptures. The object of it was to counteract the errors which certain Quakers were disseminating, to the disparagement of Scripture, and of the vicarious sacrifice of the Lamb of God.\n\nIt was answered immediately, and to the answer he gave an unwarrantably severe reply. Other books followed, and then he was imprisoned. Composition, however, went on, necessity coming in to stimulate his pen. He wanted to support his family, and although he was a prisoner, he had to support himself. For these purposes, lace-tagging being insufficient, he wrote some smaller pieces, which his friends had printed for sale about the streets. They went off so well, that the ballad-singers about Newgate and London Bridge availed themselves of the writer's popularity by attaching his portrait and initials to some impudent forgeries of their own.\n\nIn token of his solicitude for those to whom his preaching had been a blessing, he wrote a brief relation of God's exceeding mercy to himself. The relation, which extends from his birth to his imprisonment, is one of the most affecting autobiographies in the world. It constitutes, of course, the staple of every account of his conversion and consecration to the work of God. The reader of the present sketch has been really listening to the man himself. It is substantially Bunyan's own.\n\nThe earnestness of tone throughout his relation comes out in one passage to admiration: \"God did not play when convincing me; the devil did not play when tempting me; neither did I play when the pangs of hell caught hold upon me; wherefore, I may not play in relating them, but be plain and simple, and lay the thing down as it was.\" His title, Grace Abounding to the Chief of Sinners, was the best he could have found for his autobiography.\n\nMore elaborate publications followed, the preparation of which, under Bunyan's circumstances, must always be a matter of surprise. They were profound treatises on such great matters as justification by faith and the resurrection of the dead; and, although modern treatises have superseded them in our theological schools, they have rarely been surpassed, either in their robust intellectual power, their sagacious insight, their reverential and tremulous anxiety to apprehend the truth, or in their precise and vigorous statement of the sentiment to be expressed. The only known addition to his few literary resources was a concordance and Foxe's Book of Martyrs; and his only place for writing was the common cell, in which the interruptions were incessant, and the conveniences none at all. The tone of these prison compositions was to a large extent controversial, and in some cases the controversialist was ungenerous and harsh. Towards a Rev. Mr. Fowler, who had written in virtual denial of the thirteenth article of his own church, Macaulay says he was \"ferocious.\" He was certainly rude, but Fowler was at least as rude, and both of them went far too near towards the malevolent and coarse.\n\nThe last work which went to press from prison was entitled A Confession of my Faith, and a Reason of my Practice. Its design was to defend the practice of admitting Christians, as Christians, to the Lord's Supper. It was enough in Bunyan's esteem that a man gave evidence of the faith that works by love. Bunyan would have preferred that a person was baptized upon the profession of faith before taking part in the Lord's Supper, but if the person's life gave proof of godliness, then Bunyan would allow the person to participate in the ordinance. Bunyan believed that such a person's right to the privileges of the church was unquestionable, and at Bedford, all the privileges could become his own.\n\nA great outcry was raised by the leading Baptists, and this open communion was denounced as daring disloyalty to the Lord. But Bunyan quietly persisted, determining, the Almighty God being his shield, to suffer for this principle, \"even until the moss should grow upon his eyebrows.\"\n\nThere was another book that might have seen the light before our author left the prison. It is the work that has so effectually immortalized his name. The Pilgrim's Progress was begun and finished in Bedford jail. It came to him almost without an effort, obtruding itself in its unrivalled and unnumbered excellences of sentiment and style, with all the gentleness of a dream. He was in the act of writing another work when he fell suddenly into writing this. Twenty ideas came to him, and before he had put them down, twenty more came. He set his pen to paper with delight. As he wrote, the matter came; and as he was still writing, still more came, until at its length, and breadth, and extent, he was both gratified and amazed. He had kept the subject entirely to himself; he had received no help from a human soul. He had gotten no material from the stores of other times. He had caught no inspiration, either from the glorious sound of many waters, or from the gorgeous spectacle of oriental heavens, or from the sublime solitudes and the sublimer silence of the everlasting hills. He was the occupant of a den, and he had always been a dweller amidst the flats of the sluggish and sleepy Ouse River. But, to his unspeakable enjoyment, he had brought his main character, Christian, through marvelous changes, by the Delectable Mountains, through the land of Beulah, and into the paradise of God. Manner and matter, too, was all his own; nor was it made known to any mortal till he had done it.\n\nIn the jail was a Mr. Marsom, through whose family it has been reported that, on the completion of the Pilgrim, Bunyan read it to his fellow prisoners, with a view to their opinion as to whether it should be published or suppressed.\n\nThere was nothing like unanimity. \"Some said, 'John, print it'; others said, 'Not so.' Some said 'It might do good'; others said, 'No.'\" Mr. Marsom went over the manuscript carefully by himself, and then recommended that it should be sent to press without delay.\n\nThe discouragements, however, prevailed, and it was not published until 1678. Its popularity was immediate and immense. Within ten years, twelve editions had been published, and in England alone 100,000 copies had been sold before Bunyan died. From that time to this it has been a foremost book. It has been quoted on the stage. The characters of romance novels have turned it to account. Essayists have pondered its several parts, in order to add to their profound treatises upon the whole. Critics have dissected and analyzed it that they might secure intelligent perception of its beauties and defects. Through translations it may be read by almost every nation under heaven. Artists have expended the utmost of their power in illustrating its surpassing scenes, never, perhaps, with more effect than in the edition presented to the public now.\n\nThe History of Mr. Badman, with one or two other books, followed the publication of the Pilgrim, and then, in 1682, came the Holy War. It may be gathered from the preface, that in describing Mansoul, first in its possession by Diabolus, and then in its conquest by Immanuel, the author is describing himself. The description throughout is military, the recollections of his soldier life at the siege of Leicester having supplied him with the graphic illustrations which he so effectually employs. The first assault of the devil, with its success in seducing man from his Maker, is wonderfully told, and so is the recovery of man by the incarnation of the Son of God. Perhaps more wonderfully still are the renewed endeavors of the Wicked One to bring man back again beneath his power. The profound philosophy of the performance is congenially akin to the genius with which it is embodied and adorned. The metaphysical, the poetical, and the evangelical are about equally combined.\n\nThis book passed through several editions in the author's life, and is in request still, though by no means to the extent which its unrivaled excellences deserve. It is the best human directory in existence for the man who would understand how the law of sin which is in his members is wrought upon by Satanic power, and how, through the concurring grace of the Holy Ghost, that power may be held in check.\n\nWithin a year or two was published the second part of the Pilgrim's Progress, in which Christian's wife and children, with their neighbor, Mercy, are seen going after him to heaven. Other companions, with names most profoundly significant of character, join them on their journey, and under the dauntless guardianship of Great-Heart, they ultimately reach their destination. It is glorious to see how the open region was filled with horses and chariots and trumpeters to welcome the pilgrims as they went up and followed one another into the beautiful city. The versatility of Bunyan's power is manifest in the entire tone of this second part in comparison with the first. The progress of the Christian man was, for the most part, a terrible struggle to obtain a victory; the progress of the Christian woman was, to a large degree, a pleasant journey towards a home.\n\nChristiana's boys were left behind as a blessing to the church militant, the dreamer intimating that he might have something to say of them at a future time. His intimation was apparently fulfilled, so far as the writing a third part was concerned; for, some years after his death, his publisher, Nathaniel Ponder, announced that the manuscript had been entrusted to him and that it would be issued before long. Nothing more was heard of Ponder's publication. There came, indeed, what purported to be a third part, but it was a forgery. The internal and circumstantial evidence proved that it had no sort of kinship with the two veritable dreams.\n\nOther books followed, until about sixty volumes, several of them of goodly dimensions, constituted Bunyan's works. Many of them were admonitions, but all had reference to the fundamental verities of the Christian faith. In several instances they were the enlargements of his sermons, the impression having come upon him strongly that they were likely to awaken ungodly readers from their deadness and to induce some deeper spirituality among the saints. He desired to serve not only his own generation, but the generations which were to come. It was indeed a painful task to go on mastering the objections of the scorner in order to their refutation, but he performed the task. It was arduous work to solve the various difficulties of undisciplined and hypercritical minds, but he did the work. It was a weighty responsibility to warn the Church of God throughout the land against the manifold temptations which were abounding to deny or adulterate the faith, but he discharged the responsibility, accomplishing, under God, as much good from the press as from the pulpit, and indoctrinating thousands of his countrymen whom he had never seen with his own comprehensive knowledge and intense admiration of the gospel of the grace of God.\n\nBy the simpler works, such as his Book for Boys and Girls, as well as by the deeper works, such as his Law and Grace Unfolded, the people were generally attracted, gratefully retained, and conclusively persuaded.\n\nNot one was there of all the sixty books of which it was not safely to be said that his object was apparent, his language intelligible, his reasoning lucid, his illustrations homely, his sincerity undeniable, his design benevolent, his tone that of Boanerges or of Barnabas, either the indignant or the pathetic, the alarming or the consolatory, whichever seemed the likeliest to bring his readers into the earlier or the maturer fellowship of the faith of Christ.\n\nAn instance may be given of his power in expostulating with the slothful: \"Sluggard, are you asleep still? Are you resolved to sleep the sleep of death? Will neither tidings from heaven or hell awake you? Will you say still, yet a little sleep, a little slumber, and a little folding of the hands to sleep (Proverbs 6:10; Proverbs 24:33)? Oh, that I was skillful in lamentation, and had but a yearning heart towards you! How I would pity you! How I would bemoan you! Poor soul, lost soul, dying soul! What a hard heart have I that I cannot mourn for you! If you should lose but a limb, or a child, or a friend, it would not be much; but, poor man, it is YOUR SOUL! If it was to be in hell but for a day, but for a year, nay, for ten thousand years, it would, in comparison, be nothing. But it is forever! Oh, this cutting EVER! What a soul-amazing word will that be which says, Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels (Matthew 25:41).\n\nIn his dealing with the despondent, he thus conveyed his wisdom: \"Nothing has been more common to many than to doubt of the grace of God: a thing most unbecoming a sinner of anything in the world. To break the law is a fact foul enough, but to question the sufficiency of the grace of God to save therefrom is worse than sin, if worse can be. Wherefore, despairing soul, for it is to you I speak, hold back from your mistrusts, cast off your slavish fears, hang your misgivings upon the hedge, and believe that you have an invitation sufficient thereto, for a river is before thy face. And as for your want of goodness and works, let that by no means dishearten you. This is a river of the water of life, streams of grace and mercy. And when you see how those who are reluctant to die make provision at Tunbridge, Epsom, and Bath, and other places, that they may have their dwellings by the waters which are there, then you will greatly desire to be always near this blessed water of life, for you have nothing to do, I mean as to the healing of thy soul from its doubts and fears, but to drink and live forever.\"\n\nFor the believer rejoicing in Christ he had a word in season: \"It is amiable and pleasant to God when Christians keep their rank, relation, and station, doing all as suits their quality and calling. Then they are like the flowers in the garden. Where the gardener has set them, there they stand; and from the hyssop on the wall to the cedar in Lebanon, their fruit is their glory. And, seeing the stock into which they are planted is the most fruitful stock, and the sap conveyed from it is the finest sap, and the dresser of our souls is the wisest husbandman, how contrary to nature, to example, and to expectation, if we be not rich in good works. Wherefore take heed of being painted fire wherein there is no warmth, and painted flowers which retain no smell, and painted trees whereon is no fruit.\"\n\nHis Latter End\n\nSuffering for conscience's sake threatened Bunyan to the end. His nonconformity and evangelical faithfulness rendered him most obnoxious to the authorities, and on different occasions they confiscated his goods. His meetinghouse was shut up, and for a while he and his congregation had to assemble in the fields.\n\nAmidst this uncertainty as to the future, he transferred to his well-beloved wife, by a document dated 23rd December, 1685, whatever property he had acquired. He, \"John Bunyan, brazier,\" moved by his natural affection, had put her in possession of all goods, possessions, and debts, wheresoever they might be found.\n\nThus prepared for the worst, he was instant in season and out of season in his Master's work. His reputation went on increasing. Opportunities for usefulness extended in all directions. With books he became better acquainted, and of his larger knowledge of society he took singular advantage. Everything was made subservient to his purpose, so that his congregations were often struck by the sagacious mention of matters that were familiar, and his readers by powerful allusions to the incidents and opinions of the times. As the chaplain of the Lord Mayor of London, to which office he once attained, or as the pleasant guest of the wayside cottagers, to whom after the frugal meal he was about to preach, he was alike bent upon doing good and getting good! He studied to show himself approved unto God (2 Timothy 2:15).\n\nEarly in the year 1688 he suffered severely from the sweating sickness, and it was feared that he must die. Partial recovery ensued, and to the full extent of his diminished strength his labours were resumed. But the end was drawing nigh, and before long it came; not, indeed, as either himself or his fondly-devoted wife would have desired, for he died where she could not come to him in time, two days' journey away from home.\n\nHe had been persuaded by a young man, whose father was about to disinherit him, to attempt a reconciliation. There was no hope of reconciliation unless Bunyan could speak with the father, and that involved a journey from Bedford to Reading, a distance of fifty miles. He undertook it, although on horseback, and so well explained his self-denying mission that the father consented to forgive and reinstate his son immediately. Overjoyed at his success, Bunyan generously determined to go to London, where the youth resided, on his way home, that he might be told of the result. The weather was unusually inclement, and the journey became exhausting. On reaching the residence of his friend, Mr. Shaddocks, on Snow Hill, the traveler fell ill of fever, and although hope had been entertained of his recovery, after ten days he died, on the 31st of August, 1688.\n\nJohn Bunyan on His Last Mission of Mercy\n\nBunyan's death was a befitting consummation of his life. His loins were girded, and his lamp trimmed. He endured unto the end. He expired, setting his seal to it triumphantly that God was true. \"Would you be better satisfied,\" said the dying man to his attendants, \"as to what the beatifical vision means, my request is that you will live holily, and then come and see. I go to the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who will no doubt through the mediation of his blessed Son, receive me, although a sinner. Weep not for me. We shall meet ere long to sing the new song, and remain everlastingly happy, world without end.\" He knew in himself that he had in heaven a better and an enduring substance (Hebrews 10:34).\n\nThe body was buried in Bunhill Fields, amidst the most grateful tokens of general respect and love. At Bedford the grief was intense, especially within the bereaved church, but also through the neighborhood without. It was only two weeks before that his fellow townsmen had seen him ride away on his errand of mercy into Berkshire, rather less robust they thought than formerly, but still a strong and healthy man of sixty: some of them respectfully bidding him farewell; others, more familiarly and congenially wishing him Godspeed.\n\nBunyan's Tomb in Bunhill Fields Burial Grounds\n\nAnd now he was dead and gone! By his considerate kindness to an outcast, he had brought about his latter end. In serving his own generation, by the will of God he had fallen asleep and was gathered to his fathers. Magnanimous, venerable Bunyan! You rest from your labors, and your works do follow you. Your course was full of disappointments and successes, but it was consistent. You were frowned upon and flattered, but you were faithful. Your progress from this world to that which is to come accorded with the similitude of your own inimitable Dream, from the slough of its commencement to the consolation and triumph of its close.\n\nWilliam Brock\n\n* * *\n\n Even as David also describes the blessedness of the man unto whom God doth attribute righteousness without works, saying, Blessed are those whose iniquities are forgiven and whose sins are covered. Blessed is the man to whom the Lord does not impute sin.\n\n Blessed is he whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered. Blessed is the man unto whom the LORD does not impute iniquity and in whose spirit there is no guile.\n\nGlossary of Names   \nUsed in The Holy War\n\nAffection: Desire; inclination; propensity, good or evil, such as virtuous or vile affections. This character is introduced as Mr. Affection but is corrupted in his principles. He lives his life accordingly, giving himself over to the flesh and thus becomes known as Vile-Affection. (Now the works of the flesh are manifest, which are these: Adultery, fornication, uncleanness, lasciviousness, idolatry, witchcraft, hatred, variance, emulations, wrath, strife, seditions, heresies, envyings, murders, drunkenness, revellings, and such like; – Galatians 5:19-21)\n\nAlecto: A Fury in Greek mythology that represents hard-hearted or unceasing anger.\n\nAnger: A Diabolian who took on the guise of someone from a far-off country and offered to help the natives of Mansoul. He presented himself as Good-Zeal. However, his real name, Anger, means a violent passion of the mind excited by a real or supposed injury, usually accompanied by a propensity to take vengeance or to obtain satisfaction from the offending party.\n\nAnything: One of Diabolus's captains who did whatever needed to be done, but he was never true to either side because he believed anything. For his bold friendship with both sides, he had one of his legs broken, and the one who did it wished it had been his neck.\n\nApollyon: The destroyer; a name used in Revelation 9:11 for the angel of the bottomless pit (the Hebrew Abaddon).\n\nBeelzebub: Another name for the Devil; also referred to as the prince of the devils (Mark 3:22).\n\nBenumbing: Benumbing is a Diabolian who knocks down Mr. Conscience a few times. His name means to confuse or render inactive.\n\nBlindfold: Captain Blindfold was keeper of Eye-gate under Diabolus. He was slain by Emmanuel's Captain Good-Hope. The thousand Doubters under his command fought with claws as he worked to keep the inhabitants of Mansoul in the dark regarding the truth.\n\nBoanerges: One of the four first captains sent by Shaddai against Mansoul. The name means loud, determined, and enthusiastic preacher or orator.\n\nBoasting: One of Diabolus's captains who was killed when Emmanuel's troops fought to take back Mansoul. He thought nobody could shake the posts of Ear-gate or raise doubt in the heart of Diabolus. Boasting (as his name suggests) was known for talking ostentatiously, showing off, and taking glory for himself.\n\nBragman: Captain Bragman was a popular captain in Diabolus's ranks. His company of soldiers threw firebrands and arrows at Emmanuel's army. (As a mad man who casts firebrands, arrows, and death, so is the man that destroys his friend and says, Am I not in sport? – Proverbs 26:18-19) Bragman was known to display his actions, merits, or advantages flauntingly and to tell boastful stories.\n\nBrimstone: Captain Brimstone served as Diabolus's captain over the Perseverance-doubters who refused to believe the continuance in a state of grace to a state of glory. His name is the equivalent of sulfur connected with eternal flame and torment of the unsaved.\n\nCarnal-Lust: Daughter of Mr. (fleshly) Mind. Carnal-Lust and Vile-Affection marry and have several children, including three wicked sons: Impudent, Darkmouth, and Hate-Reproof. They also have three daughters: Scorn-Truth, Slight-God, and the youngest is Revenge. These grew up, were married, and also yielded many vile offspring.\n\nCarnal-Security: A Diabolian who stayed in Mansoul after Emmanuel took possession. Carnal security is part of the Devil's strategy to tempt believers to rely on worldly wisdom and practice. In this way, Carnal-Security brought Mansoul into severe slavery and bondage.\n\nCharity: Shaddai's seventh captain. In a general sense, his name means love, benevolence, good will, and disposition of heart, which inclines men to think favorably of others and do them good. In a theological sense, it includes supreme love for God and universal good will to men.\n\nChief Secretary: The Chief Secretary represents the Holy Spirit and is loving and faithful in the eternal concerns of the town of Mansoul. One of His roles was to draw up a trustworthy record of all that had been determined and make it known in all the corners of the kingdom of Universe. He is the chief dictator of all Shaddai's Law and a person skilled in all mysteries and knowledge of mysteries, along with Shaddai and Emmanuel. The three of them are all one in nature. In this story, He was a seer in all matters concerning the King and for the good and comfort of the town of Mansoul. (Also called High Secretary and Lord Secretary.)\n\nConscience: The first and final Recorder of Mansoul. While he was courageous and faithful to speak truth at every opportunity, and equipped with a bold tongue and a head filled with sound judgment, his sin caused him to forget Shaddai's Law at times but at other times to grieve over the sin of Mansoul.\n\nConviction: Shaddai's second captain. Sent to Mansoul by Shaddai, his name refers to the act of compelling one to acknowledge his error or the truth of what is alleged.\n\nCovetousness: A strong or inordinate desire to obtain and possess some supposed good, usually applied to an inordinate desire for wealth or avarice. To fool the town of Mansoul, he called himself Prudent-Thrifty. With this name, and dressed in sheep's clothing, he offered to lease his services to the townsmen.\n\nCredence: Shaddai's fifth captain. One of the five captains who came with Emmanuel to join the siege of Mansoul. His name means reliance of the mind on evidence of facts derived from sources other than personal knowledge.\n\nDamnation: One of Diabolus's captains. His name means sentenced to a state of eternal torment and his role was to be captain over the Grace-doubters.\n\nDarkmouth: One of the wicked offspring of Carnal-Lust and Vile-Affection. His name refers to the dark condition of his heart. (The good man out of the good treasure of his heart brings forth that which is good, and the evil man out of the evil treasure of his heart brings forth that which is evil, for of the abundance of the heart his mouth speaks. – Luke 6:45)\n\nDeceit: One of the Diabolians who lived in Mansoul and helped plan the return of the tyrant Diabolus to Mansoul. His name literally means a catching or ensnaring. Results are obtained by guile, fraud, or oppression. He recommended using desperation to make Mansoul question the truth of the love of the heart of their Prince.\n\nDesires-Awake: A humble character that represents Mansoul's desire to awaken spiritually. He is the second messenger to be sent by Understanding, Conscience, Willbewill, and the people of Mansoul to the Prince, while they were held in jail after Emmanuel took over the town.\n\nDiabolian: Follower of the Devil.\n\nDiabolus: The Devil, foe of God, ruler of hell. The deceiver whose crafty lies prompted the fall of Mansoul and who held the city against the conquest of Emmanuel.\n\nDo-Right: Name of the court clerk in Mansoul to whom the captured Diabolians were brought to face trial. In issues of morals and religion, his name means he will do what is just, equitable, and in accordance with the standard of truth and justice or the will of God.\n\nEmmanuel: From the Hebrew name Immanu'el, meaning, \"God is with us,\" the foretold name of the Messiah in the Old Testament. In The Holy War story, He is the Son of Shaddai, who leads the campaign to reclaim Mansoul.\n\nEvil-Questioning: A cunning old Diabolian who lived in Mansoul and caused much affliction to the Lord Mayor Understanding. He was charged with questioning the truth of doctrine and entertaining and encouraging doubts.\n\nExecution: Shaddai's fourth captain. Sent by Shaddai to retake Mansoul; his name means carrying into effect a sentence or judgment of court. It also refers to the last act of the law in completing the process by which justice is to be carried out or by which judicial punishment is inflicted.\n\nExpectation: Standard-bearer for Good-Hope. His name means the act of expecting or looking forward to a future event with at least some reason to believe the event will happen.\n\nExperience: A native-born of Mansoul, Experience was named a captain over one thousand by Prince Emmanuel. His name refers to knowledge derived from trials, use, practice, or a series of observations.\n\nFalse-Peace: This name indicates a counterfeit peace. This character satanically brought, held, and kept the town of Mansoul in her apostasy and hellish rebellion, steeped in a false, groundless, and dangerous peace and damnable security.\n\nFeeling: Mr. Feeling stood on the sidelines to encourage Mansoul to rebellion by exciting their passions.\n\nFilth: Filth represents anything that corrupts, sullies, or defiles moral character. Diabolus used Mr. Filth to draw up an odious, nasty, lustful piece of beastliness in writing and posted it on the castle gates. It granted permission to all his true and trusted sons in Mansoul to do whatever their lustful appetites prompted them to do.\n\nFooling: The name of this Diabolian means defeating, disappointing, or deceiving. This character spoke up at the gate to Shaddai's castle, asking that Captain Credence be turned over to Diabolus to save Mansoul.\n\nForget-Good: The Recorder under Diabolus, who despised the Law of Shaddai. He forgot all that was good and delighted in disobedience. He remembered nothing of submission and was prone to do hurtful things to the town of Mansoul and all who lived there.\n\nFury: One of Diabolus's captains. He was placed over the Vocation-doubters (called by the will of God). His name means a storm of anger; madness; turbulence.\n\nGet-i'the-hundred-and-lose-i'the-shire: A hundred in the old county geography of England was a political subdivision of a shire in which one hundred freemen lived with their freeborn families. The total number of hundreds made up the political unity of the shire.\n\nGod's-Peace: God's-Peace surpasses all understanding and guards hearts and minds in Christ. (And the peace of God, which passes all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus. – Philippians 4:7) This character was set over Lord Willbewill, Lord Mayor, Mr. Recorder, the secondary preacher, Mr. Mind, and over all the native Mansoulians.\n\nGood-Hope: Shaddai's sixth captain. His name means valid hope that is sound and not weak, false, or fallacious. Opposite of false hope.\n\nHard-Heart: Hard-Heart is an inflexible persistence in sin. This Diabolian's actions kept the town of Mansoul from showing any remorse or sorrow for their natural and moral evils.\n\nHarmless: Mr. Harmless served as the standard-bearer for Commander Innocent. His name means to give bond to save another.\n\nHate-Lies: Mr. Hate-Lies served as a witness against the King's enemies when they were brought before the court. His name means just what it says; he hates lies, which include criminal falsehood, a falsehood uttered for the purpose of deception, or any other intentional violation of truth.\n\nHate-Reproof: One of the wicked offspring of Carnal-Lust and Vile-Affection who hates correction because he is carnal, unfeeling, ferocious, insensible, and even stupid as a brutish man. (He that hates reproof is carnal. – Proverbs 12:1b)\n\nHaughty: His name means proud and disdainful, having a high opinion of one's self with some contempt for others. Other traits include being lofty and arrogant. He taught Mansoul to move loftily and boldly against the summons delivered by the captains of King Shaddai and to speak contemptuously against the King.\n\nHeady: The name of one of the two guns installed upon the tower over Ear-gate. It infers a readiness to rush forward in a rash, hasty, and even violent way without thought or deliberation. These guns were crafted by Puff-Up and designed to bring harm to Shaddai's army.\n\nHigh-Mind: The second of two guns installed above Ear-gate. The term high has many possible meanings in this context, including boastful, ostentatious, arrogant, proud, loud, violent, severe, and oppressive, while the word mind means intention, purpose, or plan. This gun was installed to bring harm to Shaddai's army.\n\nHigh Secretary: One who is equal to Shaddai and Emmanuel, who resides in Mansoul after the victorious conquest of Emmanuel. Represents the Holy Spirit.\n\nHuman Wisdom: One of three young men Shaddai's captains met on the way to Mansoul. Captain Boanerges enlisted him into his company. This name refers to human reasoning rather than heavenly wisdom. When captured, he agreed to switch sides and serve under Diabolus.\n\nIll-Pause: Means temporary pause or hesitation, which brings about a lapse in good judgment.\n\nImpudent: One of the wicked offspring of Carnal-Lust and Vile-Affection. Means shameless, lacking modesty, or bold with contempt for others.\n\nIncredulity: A friend of Diabolus and one of the two mayors under his rule. He escapes execution after the recapture of Mansoul. Diabolus rewards him by giving him charge over the entire army of Doubters in the attack against Mansoul. His name means refusal or withholding of belief; unwillingness to believe.\n\nInsatiable: Captain Insatiable served Diabolus as captain over the Faith-doubters. His name means incapable of being satisfied or appeased; very greedy.\n\nInnocent: Lord Innocent's name represents freedom from crime, sin, or guilt; unimpaired integrity. He is a character with an untainted purity of heart and life, who falls dead when he hears his Lord and rightful Prince, Shaddai, so verbally abused by the filthy Diabolian Ill-Pause. After his death, Mansoul opened Ear-gate to Diabolus.\n\nInnocency: Shaddai's fourth captain. One of King Shaddai's captains, not to be confused with Lord Innocent who fell dead when Ill-Pause verbally abused his Prince Shaddai. Commander Innocency was one of the captains sent with Prince Emmanuel to redeem Mansoul. His name means free from guilt, having done no wrong, and not tainted with sin; pure, upright.\n\nInquisitive: A notable, clever fellow who lived in impoverished circumstances and who was inclined to seek to know more via discussion, investigation, or observation.\n\nJudgment: Shaddai's third captain. Sent by Shaddai against Mansoul when Diabolus ruled. His name means the right or power of passing sentence.\n\nKnow-All: Mr. Know-All is called as a witness against the enemies of the King. His name means he has a clear and certain perception of truth, fact, or anything that actually exists.\n\nKnowledge: Emmanuel made Mr. Knowledge the Recorder in place of Mr. Conscience, not because he hadn't performed his duty properly, but because He planned to award another position to Mr. Conscience. His name implies a clear and certain perception of truth and fact.\n\nLasciviousness: One of the Diabolians who was left behind in the town of Mansoul when Emmanuel departed. His name means tendency to excite lust, looseness; irregular indulgence of wantonness. However, as part of the deception, he called himself Harmless-Mirth.\n\nLegion: In the time of Christ, a regiment of the Roman army consisted of six thousand, exclusive of horsemen who numbered a tenth of the footmen. This word is used in Matthew 26:53 and Mark 5:9 to express a great multitude of angels/demons. Bunyan implies the same with this demonic character.\n\nLoth-to-Stoop: This character represents a stubborn unbeliever set in his ways who is prideful and unwilling to be humble before the Lord.\n\nLove-Flesh: Love-Flesh was given to unlawful indulgence of lust. He was placed as governor of Sweet-Sin Hold and was addicted to fornication. He had no limit to his desires and found more sweetness when drinking of a lust than he did in all the paradise of God.\n\nLove-no-Good: Love-no-Good was a townsman but also a Diabolian. He was mortally wounded as Emmanuel's army worked to break into Mansoul, but his life lingered for a time. He hated all that God's Law required and embraced evil behavior.\n\nLove-no-Light: Governor of Midnight Hold for Diabolus, which was built purposely to keep Mansoul from the true knowledge of itself. In other words, he kept Mansoul in the dark regarding its true condition.\n\nLove-to-Mansoul: The name of the runner used by Shaddai's captains to send a message to Shaddai, to inform Him of how the war for Mansoul was progressing. The \"love\" in his name is like that of patriotism or the attachment one has to his native land.\n\nLucifer: According to Strong's Concordance, Lucifer means \"shining one, light-bearer,\" which refers to his condition before he was cast out of heaven, and is the Latinization of the Hebrew name of the angel leading the forces opposing Yahweh.\n\nLustings: Having an eager desire; a carnal appetite. Lord Lustings was a Diabolian who had neither eyes nor ears and served as Mayor under Diabolus. He operated by sheer natural impulse like a beast and never favored good but rather chose evil.\n\nMan's-Invention: One of three young men Shaddai's captains met on the way to Mansoul, and the one Captain Boanerges enlisted into his company. This name is referring to discovery or the finding of one's own way in the world. When captured, he agreed to switch sides and serve under Diabolus.\n\nMr. Mind: Represents man's fleshly, unregenerate mind until he receives Prince Emmanuel into Mansoul. (And you, that were in another time alienated and enemies in your mind by wicked works, yet now he has reconciled you. – Colossians 1:21)\n\nMischief: A Diabolian who was consulted about how to deliver Mansoul into the hands of Diabolus again. The name means to bring harm, hurt, injury, damage, or evil, whether intended or not.\n\nMors: The Latin noun for death.\n\nMurder: Lord Murder, a Diabolian still living within Mansoul when Prince Emmanuel departed due to Mansoul's sin. (Whosoever hates his brother is a murderer and ye know that no murderer has eternal life abiding in him. – 1 John 3:15)\n\nNo-Ease: Set as captain over the Salvation-doubters unit in Diabolus's army. His name represents the absence of a state of quiet tranquility and replaces it with concerns and anxieties regarding assurance of salvation.\n\nNo-Truth: The character No-Truth works to wipe out the truth. He defaced the image of King Shaddai and in its place set up the horrid and dreadful image of Diabolus as a way to show contempt for the former King and degrade His town of Mansoul. His task was to turn Mansoul into a brute savage at heart.\n\nPast-Hope: Captain Past-Hope served as captain over the Felicity-doubters in Diabolus's army. His name represents the loss of hope. His symbol of a hot iron and the hard heart represents a seared conscience and a hardened heart.\n\nPatience: Shaddai's fifth captain. Another of the captains who joined Prince Emmanuel to redeem Mansoul. His name represents the act or quality of waiting long for justice or expected good without discontent.\n\nPenny-wise-pound-foolish: Stingy about small expenditures and extravagant with large ones.\n\nPitiless: A Diabolian who turned Mansoul's mind from the truth or any thoughts that would have led her to repentance. Pitiless shows no pity but traitorously and wickedly shuts up kindness, tenderness, and compassion, so Mansoul wasn't allowed to grieve the abandonment of the faith she had professed in her rightful King.\n\nPitiful: Mr. Pitiful served as the standard-bearer for Captain Charity, and his name means full of pity; tender, compassionate, having a heart to feel sorrow and sympathy for the distressed.\n\nPromise: Mr. Promise carried the standard for Captain Conviction. His name means a binding declaration of something to be done or given for another's benefit.\n\nPrejudice: One who holds an opinion or forms a decision without due examination of the facts or arguments, which are necessary to reach a just and impartial determination. This character, Mr. Prejudice, is an angry, ill-tempered fellow, who captains the area at Ear-gate.\n\nProfane: Mr. Profane was the messenger chosen by the Diabolians to carry messages to Diabolus, inviting him to come back and take over Mansoul. His name reflects opposition to all things holy.\n\nPrywell: Prywell loved the people of Mansoul and walked the streets vigilantly because he feared some harm would befall Mansoul, either from the Diabolians within the town or from some power outside the walls. He walked the streets and paid close attention to everything to see or hear whether a plan against it might be in the works or not. His name means to inspect closely; to attempt to discover something with scrutinizing curiosity.\n\nPuff-Up: Inflated with pride, vanity, or conceit. He was Diabolus's founder.\n\nRage: Captain over Diabolus's Election-doubter regiment of his army. His name means violent anger accompanied by furious words, gestures, or agitation.\n\nReason: When Emmanuel and His army took possession of Mansoul, Captain Innocency lived in Mr. Reason's home. His name reflects the faculty of the mind by which it distinguishes truth from falsehood and good from evil, and enables the possessor to deduce inferences from facts or from propositions.\n\nResistance: Mr. Resistance, also known as Captain Resistance, was a great man in Mansoul whom the giant Diabolus and his band feared more than they feared the whole town. Captain Resistance was the only man of war in the town when Diabolus came to the gate. Once they killed him, resistance was gone, and Mansoul lacked courage because his death left Mansoul without the heart to resist, which was what the Devil had planned all along.\n\nRevenge: One of the wicked daughters of Carnal-Lust and Vile-Affection. Her name means to inflict pain or injury in return for an injury (real or imagined) received.\n\nScorn-Truth: One of the wicked daughters of Carnal-Lust and Vile-Affection. She despises the truth.\n\nSearch-Truth: One of King Shaddai's witnesses in court. The name means pursuit or hunt for truth.\n\nSecure: One of Diabolus's captains, killed when Emmanuel's army started to reclaim Mansoul. He was the captain who said even the blind and lame in Mansoul could protect against Emmanuel's army and keep the gates from falling. His name means not alarmed, not disturbed by fear; confident of safety. Captain Conviction cut off the head of Captain Secure with a two-handed sword.\n\nSelf-Conceit: A Diabolian left in Mansoul after Emmanuel took possession. His name means false pride, having an exaggerated sense of self-importance.\n\nSelf-Denial: A brave young man and townsman in Mansoul whom Emmanuel made a captain over a thousand Mansoulians. He was placed at Eye-gate and Ear-gate to protect against the blood-men. His name means the denial of one's self, refraining from gratifying one's own appetites or desires.\n\nSepulcher: Captain Sepulcher was placed over the Glory-doubters in Diabolus's army. His name represents the thought that there is no life beyond the grave and implies the smell of death when he is placed at Nose-gate.\n\nShaddai: In this story, the King of the Universe. Also the builder and creator of Mansoul, whose image it bears. El Shaddai is one of the Judaic names for God.\n\nSlight-Good: One of the wicked daughters of Carnal-Lust and Vile-Affection. Her name means to disregard good as a thing of little value and unworthy of notice.\n\nSpite-God: Governor over the Hold of Defiance, which was constructed as a command center to keep Mansoul from the knowledge of its ancient King. This character was a blasphemous wretch who came against Mansoul in the beginning with the disorderly, vulgar crowd. His name means deep-seated and relentless malice; chronic hatred toward God.\n\nSuffer-Long: The standard-bearer for Captain Patient. His name means bearing injuries or provocation for a long time; patient, not easily provoked.\n\nSweet-World: Pleasing to the eye, ear, taste, or nose. One of the traders put into the marketplace to deceive Mansoul; they became caught up in business and grew to be full and rich in order for Diabolus to gain ground on them.\n\nTake-Heed-What-You-Hear: The name of the trumpeter who announced the arrival of Shaddai's forces at Mansoul and delivered His message of mercy. The name means to listen and pay attention to what you hear.\n\nTell-True: Tell-True served as a witness in court against the King's enemies. His name means that all he testified was in accordance with the actual state of things.\n\nTisiphone: Means avenging murder, in Greek. This was the name of one of the Furies in Greek mythology. She killed Cithaeron with the bite of one of the snakes on her head.\n\nTorment: Diabolus's captain in charge of the Resurrection-doubters. His name represents extreme pain or anguish of an eternal nature.\n\nTradition: One of three young men Shaddai's captains met on the way to Mansoul. Captain Boanerges enlisted him into his company because he seemed to be a man of courage. This name refers to the traditions of men, not the traditions of God. (Beware lest any man spoil you through philosophy and vain deceit, after the traditions of men, according to the elements of the world, and not after Christ. – Colossians 2:8) When captured, he agreed to switch sides and serve under Diabolus.\n\nTrue-Man: True-Man was one of those whom Emmanuel brought from His Father's court when He first made war upon Diabolus in the town of Mansoul. He made him jailer in the town of Mansoul. His name represents one who is faithful, steady in adhering to friends, promises, and the Prince. He is not false, fickle, or disloyal.\n\nUnderstanding: Having insight and good judgment. The first and final Mayor of Mansoul. Diabolus removed him from his position of distinction and honor, because he was a seeing man. Thus, he deprived Understanding of seeing what he was doing by building a high, strong tower that stood between the sun's light and the windows of Understanding's palace, and so darkened his entire house. This represents a darkened understanding. Later, when Understanding hears Diabolus has rejected Shaddai's offer of mercy and grace, he gets together with Mr. Conscience, gathers some of the town, and begins to help them see the reasonableness of the noble captains' demands.\n\nVouch-Truth: One of the King's witnesses in court. The name means guarantee the truth or facts.\n\nWet-Eyes: Wet-Eyes accompanied Desires-Awake when he carried a petition to Emmanuel a second time. He was a poor man with a broken spirit, but one who could speak well to a petition.\n\nWillbewill: Based on the phrase \"What will be will be\" – something said when stuck in a hopeless and unchangeable situation which one has come to accept. In this case, Willbewill starts out as a servant of Shaddai but then shifts his allegiance to Diabolus when the city is captured. His fickle thoughts under Shaddai prolonged the war because he didn't seem to favor one side more than the other. Then when he is brought to repentance and wrapped in Emmanuel's everlasting arms, he ruled under the Prince for the good of the town of Mansoul.\n\nWould-Live: The one chosen to carry the petition drawn up by Understanding, Mr. Conscience, Willbewill, and the people of Mansoul when Emmanuel jailed them after taking over the town. In his name the word would denotes a sense of wishing or praying, so his name means praying or wishing to live.\n\nAbout the Author\n\nJohn Bunyan was born in November 1628, in Elstow, England. A celebrated English minister and preacher, he wrote The Pilgrim's Progress (1678), the book that was the most characteristic expression of the Puritan religious outlook. His other works include doctrinal and controversial writings; a spiritual autobiography, Grace Abounding (1666); and the allegory, The Holy War (1682).\nThe Holy War – John Bunyan\n\nUpdated Edition Copyright © 2016\n\nFirst edition published 1682\n\nAll rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means – electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission from the publisher.\n\nScripture quotations are taken from the Jubilee Bible, copyright © 2000, 2001, 2010, 2013 by Life Sentence Publishing, Inc. Used by permission of Life Sentence Publishing, Inc., Abbotsford, Wisconsin. All rights reserved.\n\nCover Design: Natalia Hawthorne, BookCoverLabs.com\n\neBook Icon: Icons Vector/Shutterstock\n\nEditors: Donna Sundblad, Sheila Wilkinson, and Ruth Zetek\n\nEditor (The Life of John Bunyan): Paul Miller\n\nPrinted in the United States of America\n\nAneko Press – Our Readers MatterTM\n\nwww.anekopress.com\n\nAneko Press, Life Sentence Publishing, and our logos are trademarks of\n\nLife Sentence Publishing, Inc.  \n203 E. Birch Street  \nP.O. Box 652  \nAbbotsford, WI 54405\n\nFICTION / Christian / Classic & Allegory\n\nPaperback ISBN: 978-1-62245-300-9\n\neBook ISBN: 978-1-62245-301-6\n\n10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1\n", "meta": {"pile_set_name": "BookCorpus2"}}
{"text": "\n\n## Dear Mr. Putin – Jehovah's Witnesses Write Russia\n\nTom Harley\n\n_For as I see it, God has exhibited us apostles as the last of all, like people sentenced to death, since we have become a spectacle to the world, to angels and human beings alike_ – 1 Corinthians 4:9\n\nOther books by this author:\n\nTom Irregardless and Me\n\nNo Fake News but Plenty of Hogwash\n\nDear Mr. Putin – Jehovah's Witnesses Write Russia (Extremism-free Version)\n\n###\n\n# Dear Mr. Putin – Jehovah's Witnesses Write Russia\n\nby Tom Harley\n\nSmashwords edition\n\nCopyright © 2018 Tom Harley\n\n2nd edition - 2020\n\nAll rights reserved\n\nSmashwords Edition, License Notes\n\nThank you for downloading this ebook. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favorite authorized retailer. Thank you for your support.\n\nTable of Contents\n\nIntroduction\n\nPart I\n\nChapter 1 – The Soviets\n\nChapter 2 – Campaign and Trial\n\nChapter 3 – Appeal\n\nChapter 4 – Aftermath\n\nChapter 5 – Endurance\n\nPart II\n\nChapter 6 – Statecraft\n\nChapter 7 – Education\n\nChapter 8 – Brainwashing\n\nChapter 9 – Discipline\n\nChapter 10 – A Governing Body\n\nChapter 11 – Apostasy\n\nChapter 12 – Money\n\nPart III\n\nChapter 13 – Earth\n\nChapter 14 – Fake News\n\nChapter 15 – Life\n\nPart IV – Updates Post Publication\n\nChapter 16 – Prison Terms and a President with Questions\n\nChapter 17 – Mistreatment and Enemy Revealed\n\nChapter 18 – Sticking Up For the Unrighteous\n\nFinal Acknowledgements\n\nEndnotes\n\nOther Books by the Author\n\nContact the Author\n\n# Introduction\n\nIn March of 2017, Jehovah's Witnesses worldwide were invited just once by their coordinating organization to write Vladimir Putin. Within two months, up to 49 million letters had been sent. They weren't all to Putin—several other officials were identified—but his was the most recognizable name.\n\nOn the surface, the campaign was a failure. Opposition, which would ultimately lead to an April 20th Supreme Court ban of the religious organization, continued unabated. It has only intensified since. Still, Witnesses felt the heat on their Russian brothers and sisters as though it were on them. They longed to do something and here was something tangible that they could do. By taking part, they demonstrated to all that there is one nation on earth in which every citizen cares deeply for every other. They fortified their Russian counterparts who are now in the eye of the storm.\n\nThroughout Soviet times, from the eradication of the czar to 1991, Jehovah's Witnesses had been banned in Russia. Witnesses who survived the tribulation of Nazi Germany found, if they happened to live in the wrong part of the country, that they had simply swapped one set of persecutors for another. Perestroika and Glasnost set them free in Russia during 1991, but their time of freedom has lasted only until 2017, and the present laws are harsher than those of Soviet days.\n\nBooks about Jehovah's Witnesses authored by Jehovah's Witnesses are not plentiful. This is a shame, for no outsider, even with the best of intentions, can do justice to the faith as can a Witness—they miss the nuances, and in some cases, even the facts. Three reasons account for this drought. Jehovah's Witnesses are primarily drawn from the ranks of working people, who are not inclined to write books. Pathways of publicizing their faith are already well established and few think to go beyond them—why write a book when you can and do look people in the eye and tell them what you have to say? Even blogs of Jehovah's Witnesses are relatively few. There is also a sense of not wanting to compete with an official channel.\n\nWhat books Witnesses do author are usually of specialized subsets—say, of endurance under persecution, contributions to civil liberty through national supreme courts, or the topic of blood transfusion. What this writer attempts here he has seen no Witness do before. If they have, he is not aware of it. Non-Witnesses can write of the nuts and bolts of the movement to destroy the faith's infrastructure in Russia. But they will miss the subtleties of the motive for doing so. They will miss totally the atmosphere impelling every Witness in the world to write relevant Russian officials. They will miss what the rank and file felt as they followed the ups and downs of breaking events.\n\nEnough of \"this writer.\" Portions of this book are deeply personal statements which will resonate with all Witnesses, and I do not want to calcify them with references to \"this writer.\" Though there are accepted rules of style and format, ultimately the only rule that counts is what you can get away with. Accordingly, I'll flip back and forth with the self-references—sometimes \"this writer\" and sometimes just \"I.\"\n\nAs might be surmised, I am not impartial. This book will not be impartial. I am a 40-plus year member of the faith. While not ignoring other points of view, I will consistently present matters as Witnesses see them. Like most Witnesses, my year-long process of introduction to and eventual embrace of the faith I liken to assembling a jigsaw puzzle. Once you have put the pieces together and have reproduced the mountain vista on the box cover, you have a strong basis for faith not easily shaken.\n\nYou are not immune, however, to the discouragements of life that afflict everyone. Nor are you immune to your own shortcomings, or to trials your newfound faith brings you. Ultimately, you will lose the game, because the one of long ago that you strive to follow also lost the game—executed after preaching the gospel for just a few short years. But your loss is illusory. It will be transformed into a win, just as the master's loss was.\n\nThe life Jehovah's Witnesses have their eye upon they would call \"the true life\" of 1 Timothy 6:19. The true life is not the present reality of an earth carved up into endless squabbling factions, each demanding the allegiance of those within its jurisdiction. It is the life that commences after the end of that system. Contrary to popular view, the Bible does not present a world gradually transformed by Christian values. It presents a world increasingly opposed to them that is ultimately replaced by God for that reason. \"Your kingdom come, your will be done on earth as in heaven,\" says the familiar prayer. No one would say that God's will is not done in heaven—surely things must run smoothly up there. But neither would anyone say that his will is done on earth today. There are glimmers of it here and there, to be sure, but no one would ever say that it predominates. It is a present tragedy that is remedied when his \"kingdom comes.\"\n\nA pitfall I had to face early on involved taking care that whatever I wrote would not be banned in Russia as extremist. Of course, it is possible that the whole book might be—the present federal list of writings designated extremist includes, at present, over 4000 works,1 but why ensure the fate by quoting from works already on the list? Most Watchtower-published material the Russian government has declared extremist. Even the children's books are so labeled. Even the Bible translation they use is so labeled. Even their website is extremist and off limits. If you are in Russia, you cannot read it. If you are anywhere else, you are okay.\n\nI did not immediately realize the ramifications of this. In my early drafts I linked a few times to the website. Must I remove those links? Here and there I quoted some Watchtower publications. Must I rewrite those portions? It wasn't my only option. Early on, I imagined writing two versions: the first as I pleased and the second with offending passages redacted, highlighting the silliness of it all, for the passages are all innocuous. The cover of the public work would carry a caution at the bottom: \"Warning – Do Not Read in Russia\" and the cover of the redacted would be typewritten and without image, as one might expect of an underground work. In the end I settled upon a mix of both. There are two versions with identical covers, one warning in an orange circle to not read it in Russia, the other \"safe\" version with orange circle saying it is okay. Watch those orange circles. Make sure you are reading the right book. You do not want to be thrown into the hoosegow.2\n\nI did realize from the onset that the New World Translation would have to go. Even a quote from it is enough to designate a book as extremist. Even, in theory, is Jesus's words about how one must love one's enemy. Such quoting might not actually draw the wrath of officials, but it is difficult to know for sure. Russia is a land of Kafkaesque contradictions in matters of religion. Jehovah's Witnesses are declared extremists in Russia and shortly thereafter Putin inducts one into the Order of Parental Glory as a fine family example. The mischievous mind envisions him awarding an ISIS family the next week, with grenades hanging from belts—for both they and Jehovah's Witnesses are declared extremists under the same law. A town official honors a Witness for cleaning up the public park. Shortly thereafter that Witness is carted off to jail for conducting a Bible study meeting. One envisions that same official next week honoring ISIS for cleaning the park and then being blown to bits by a mine left behind while strolling the grounds—for they are extremists.\n\nThe only safe assumption is that there are, at present, four approved faiths in the land of the bear—just four—that's more than enough, the government decrees. For the religiously inclined who favor the Christian brand, there is the Russian Orthodox Church. Going anywhere else is dicey. Church protodeacon Andrey Kuraev is no friend of Jehovah's Witnesses; he verbally savages them, \"but blaming them for extremism is not even funny. This decision cannot be called anything other than glaringly idiotic: to accuse pacifists, uncompromisingly non-resisting Tolstoyans of extremism!\"3\n\n\"Prohibiting is irrational,\" he continues. \"And certainly not with the arguments that were given (or, on the contrary, not given). Especially since there haven't been any intelligible arguments quoted yet. By the way, there are a number of these forbidden books in my house, [uh oh] I did not notice anything extremist there. So, and now I have to arrest? Yes, they have harsh statements about other religions. It's true. But the same Supreme Court of the Russian Federation a few years ago decided that criticism of religions is not a crime.\" (brackets mine)\n\nDoes Kuraev really mean to suggest that prosecution presented no intelligible arguments at the Supreme Court trial? An observer of the trial might well think it. He might well wonder just what does the government have against Jehovah's Witnesses? There must be something, but it is not stated. At one point the judge asked the prosecution (the Ministry of Justice) whether it had prepared for the case. A decision had been plainly made somewhere from on high and it would fall upon the judge to rubber-stamp it. Of course, he did, perhaps because he wanted to remain a judge. The actual reasons behind anti-Witness hostility were never presented. So I have presented them in Part II, along with how they might be defended.\n\nSome Witnesses, truth be told, will be uncomfortable with Part II, and might best be advised to skip over it. They will love the idea of defending the faith but may be unaware of the scope of the attacks made against it, some of which are intensely malicious. Deciding to sit out this or that controversy will earn them taunts of \"sticking one's head in the sand\" from detractors, but it is exactly what Jesus recommends, as will be seen. Not everyone must immerse themselves in every \"fact,\" for many of them will turn out to be facts of Mark Twain's variety: facts that \"ain't so.\" You can't do everything, and most persons choose to focus on matters most directly relevant to their lives. Part II thereafter rolls into Part III, which suggests an offense—not a legal offense, but an overall moral one.\n\nKuraev goes on to observe that \"our Christian authors, including sacred, ancient, authoritative, have extremely negative statements [about other religions].\" And he points to Jesus' own words about the founders of other religions: \"All who [have] come before me are thieves and robbers.\"4 He continues: \"The Supreme Court of the Russian Federation seriously compromised this decision. The belief that you can trust the judicial system of Russia, even at the highest level, is shattered.\" He fears lest \"the ax once clamped against the Jehovah's Witnesses does not attack us with the same arguments.\" He worries the Court's decision \"shakes the boat, represents power in an evil and unpredictable manner and thereby creates unnecessary distrust and fear in society.\"5\n\nSince there are but four approved religious channels, Jehovah's Witnesses are plainly not the only minority faith to experience persecution in Russia. All of them do to some extent. Witnesses are in the vanguard; they are the first to have their organization outlawed, but many are shaking in their boots that they will be next. They watch things unfold. Had Witnesses prevailed in the Court, they would have claimed equal victory. They mostly held back, not challenging the government prosecutor's assertion that Jehovah's Witnesses are a cult. The definition of cult has changed greatly over the years. It once had a precise meaning. These days it has been expanded to include _people we don't like_ , just as news we don't like is _fake news_. Gone are the days when nefarious deeds and the withdrawal from life under the spell of a charismatic leader sufficed to be labeled a cult. Approaching are the days where simply standing against contemporary trends and mindsets is enough. The entire New Testament could be reinterpreted as the writings of a cult by this new definition, for it is not warm and fuzzy toward the popular culture of its day, and those who embraced the new faith it espoused withdrew from that culture.\n\nIf they withdrew from it then, they withdraw from it now. This is a point of much concern to Witness detractors, as will be seen. After a period of investigation into the Bible, seldom lasting under a year, Jehovah's Witnesses come to feel they have found something better, and most immerse themselves in it, sometimes to the point of losing touch almost completely with the day-to-day political concerns that preoccupy others.\n\nAfter the 911 terrorist attacks on New York City, which claimed the lives of 2,753 persons, teams of Jehovah's Witnesses, organized at the branch level, visited the scene. Branch member Gregory Bowman relates: \"When we were ultimately granted access to ground zero, and we started encountering the first responders, we let them know how much we appreciated their hard work, and that they had a skill-set that we didn't have, but yet our skill-set was trying to offer comfort to them. We shared a scripture with them. Immediately we could tell that that was something that caused emotion to rise up in them right away. And they expressed great appreciation for that. One of the beautiful things about the scriptures is they're calming, soothing, comforting, and the scriptures did not let down the workers that were there at ground zero either.\"6\n\nLikely, the representatives of many denominations took action to comfort people. But what could they say? \"Out of evil, comes good\"? \"God works in mysterious ways\"? \"He (she) is in a better place, now\"? Witnesses would never say any of these things. It is from such banal and insensitive remarks that atheists are born. I like the expression \"skill-set,\" both applied to the first responders and then to the Witness volunteers themselves. The \"skill-set\" of Jehovah's Witnesses is an accurate understanding of the Scriptures and a cultivated desire and ability to share it. An accurate understanding of the Bible makes unnecessary the trite sayings above. In fact, it eviscerates them, and offers something far better, as will be seen.\n\nThis writer, too, regards himself as having a skill-set, and finds, to his surprise, that it is a somewhat unusual one. Newsmakers have little insight into the world of Jehovah's Witnesses. In turn, Jehovah's Witnesses have little insight into the political doings of this world. In a spiritual sense, they would say that they do have insight, but that is not the sense that that world itself is most familiar with. I am passably familiar with both and can build a bridge between them—not be a literal bridge, but a bridge of joint understanding, which can hardly be a bad thing. Even in the current climate of distrust bordering on hostility between the United States and Russia, it is generally conceded that understanding the other's point of view is an asset, not a liability.\n\nChoice of a substitute Bible translation was not easy. Perhaps it should have been. Any of them will do. However, Jehovah's Witnesses are accustomed to the divine name appearing in the Bible. They are frustrated by its banishment. They think that if an author puts his name in his work 7,000 times, it implies strongly that he wants it there and may not be happy with any who would hide it. They choke when they watch \"The Ten Commandments\" movie, in which the Israelites are distraught early on because they do not even know their God's name but later they are as pleased as punch because they have finally learned it—it is \"the LORD.\"\n\nThere are some translations that render the divine name whenever called for as \"Jehovah\" or the more Hebrew-flavored \"Yahweh.\"7 But most of these translations are old and afflicted with archaic language. Many translations, even the Russian synodal one, employ \"Jehovah\" in a few token places. The newer ones, though, are apt to remove it completely, substituting LORD in all capitals to distinguish it from \"Lord.\" The first verse of the 110th Psalm contains both LORD and Lord, and this writer, in his own house-to-house ministry, will sometimes ask the householder if he knows why that is.\n\nThe house Bible for this work shall be the New American Bible – Revised Edition, a Catholic translation. I'll just have to get used to reading The LORD everywhere. \"Our father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name,\" Jesus begins. What is that name? The LORD. I'll just have to get used to it. The New American Bible came in second place in the Jason Beduhn book _Truth in Translation: Accuracy and Bias in English Translations of the New Testament_. He liked that it was free of what he called the \"Protestant's burden.\"8 The New World Translation is a relatively recent work, its first complete edition appearing in 1961. If it dictates something that is different from the Witnesses' current practice, the latter can simply change, as they did recently with the specifics of appointing elders.9 If the Catholics encounter the same problem, they don't have to change. They have long held that Scripture is not the final word; it can be superseded by saints or tradition. But the Protestants are in a tough spot. They insist that they follow the Bible in every detail, and yet it was written long ago. There is therefore always a powerful temptation to translate in a manner that accords with current practices, even if it means stretching it a bit to make that the case. Beduhn, for example, states such translators \"all approached the text [of John 1:1] already believing certain things about the Word...and made sure that the translations came out in accordance with their beliefs.\"10\n\nIf the New American Bible is Beduhn's second choice, why do I here employ the revised edition of it? That was largely an accident. I had written some time before I noticed it and decided to let it slide, on the theory that a revised version of anything is usually an improvement over the original. I also decided not to place scriptural citations of that, or any translation, within the paragraphs, as though in a Watchtower article, but in the endnotes instead. First, this book is not a Watchtower publication, and I wished to avoid any confusion. Second, many readers will be non-religious—why should they think they are being preached to? Third, in these days of search engines, it is an easy matter to enter any passage and find its source.\n\nI am a rank-and-file member of Jehovah's Witness and not an insider. I am a foot soldier. I am a good foot soldier, and loyal. I have been around for a while and have even served as a congregation elder, but otherwise I am nothing special. But I am a foot soldier who can write well, especially if one is not fussy. Foot soldiers can tell splendid history when they get around to it, but one must cut them some slack. This foot soldier looks at the established rules of scholarly writing and they seem burdensome to him, like Goliath's armor, so he sets them aside and hopes for the best with his sling. I will even accept the derisive title given the apostle Paul by the Epicurean and Stoic philosophers, who wanted to know: \"What is this scavenger trying to say?\" Literally the word means \"seed-picker\" and it denotes a bird that picks up a seed here and poops it out there.11 That is all I am doing. That is all most writers do.\n\nI am not even a thinker, really, at least, not a rigorous one. I am like Pastor Inqvist's substitute preacher, specifically selected for his dullness—because the pastor does not want to return from vacation and read the disappointment in the eyes of his flock.12 So he chooses a substitute that they will listen to and say: \"I'll bet he's good in the shepherding work.\" Then he will come to their house and they will note the lack of eye contact and say: \"Maybe he's a scholar.\" I am not a scholar either. Leave the deep thinking to others—I don't trust it anyway—but I do have a certain knack for refocusing and crafting words in ways not typically crafted. It will have to do. Only a foot soldier can relate the emotions prevailing as every Witness in the world wrote Russia.\n\nI know no \"higher ups\" and do not want to know any. As soon as you know some higher-ups you will know some who have erred because they are human. As soon as you know some who have erred because they are human, you have a media that wants to know what those errors are. As soon as the media knows what those errors are, they have but one solution: Fire them! Isn't that why nobody knows anything today? At the first misstep it is: \"Off with his head!\" Better not to know them and focus my writing as a foot soldier with 40 years of service. I'll present the facts as persuasively as I can and if readers don't believe me, they don't believe me. In matters of religion, as in most other matters, people decide up front anyway, and choose from the available facts afterwards that which will fit their viewpoint. It is a sign of the times we live in and is evident everywhere.\n\n\"There is nothing new under the sun,\" but perhaps it has not all been collected in one place. No non-Witness can write with the same passion as me on this topic. If they could they would become Jehovah's Witnesses themselves. The overall topic does not relegate itself to side dish status. It ever pushes to be the main course. \"The word of God is living and effective, sharper than any two-edged sword, penetrating even between soul and spirit, joints and marrow, and able to discern reflections and thoughts of the heart,\" says Hebrews. Furthermore, \"no creature is concealed from him, but everything is naked and exposed to the eyes of him to whom we must render an account.\"13 One either embraces such news or runs away; it is very hard to be a neutral bystander. Strangely, in today's atmosphere of critical thinking, the moment people embrace a cause, they are considered biased, and their testimony is looked at askance. In the case of Jehovah's Witnesses, this effectively means that their detractors get to write the greater portion of the story, since strictly neutral persons are uncommon.\n\nMy rank-and-file qualifications are high enough to know the Witness organization well. It is the most transparent organization in the world; if you are a member who knows one Witness, you know a thousand. Jehovah's Witnesses have no clergy. Anyone doing anything was once an ordinary congregation member as yourself and you will have kept in touch with many of them and met many more. They all talk. Watchtower literature is extensive and easily accessible, especially to anyone who has collected it, as most Witnesses have, or did, until electronic formats made bulky bound volumes collections less desirable; they were cumbersome, never discarded, but seldom resorted to (at least in my case—doubtless there were better students). Online resources and computer CD's are just so much more compact and convenient.\n\nAll of the preceding makes for great transparency. Individual Witnesses go directly to doors to present their faith. What could be more transparent than that? But it is not necessarily the transparency that the world's media would like to see. The latter likes to send reporters to cross-examine those \"at the top.\" The Watchtower declines such requests and contents itself with a \"Newsroom Tab\" on the web page. The way to find out about the Witnesses is to ask the next one who stops by. But news outlets often hesitate to do this for fear that those Witnesses may (gulp) witness to them. The lazier ones copy material about them off the Internet authored by those who don't like them. Even the expert witness that the Russian Supreme Court relied upon is known to have done this.\n\nJehovah's Witnesses are fundamentalists in some respects and quite liberal in others. They are not easy to pigeonhole. Zealous advocates for and dissenters against them serve to further confuse. Witnesses are Bible-believing, yet they acknowledge that the creative days of Genesis are \"epochs,\" the time preceding them \"aeons.\"14 They are socially conservative, yet they remain entirely apolitical—their standards are theirs alone and they do not attempt to force them through legislation upon others. Joel Engardio, a journalist and human rights advocate, who was raised a Witness, says that they provide an excellent example, perhaps our last hope, of how groups with strongly polarized ideas can yet coexist peacefully.15\n\nThey look to the Book for direction. If you grant that there is an interested God, there is no finer way for him to communicate with humans than through a widespread book, and no book is more widespread than the Bible. The more familiar you are with it, the better off you are. Is such-and-such in the Book or isn't it? The trouble with religion by revelation is that you invariably come across people who have also experienced revelation, but their revelation is different from yours, and then there is no way to ever get to the bottom of it. To be sure, endless people muddy the waters, offering this or that interpretation of verse. Some would paint the book as unreliable on that account, and others as outdated. But at least there is always something to go on with a book, and not just: \"God told me so.\"\n\nKnowledge of the Book may be quite surface with many of these ones, extending little beyond some formula texts to argue this or that doctrine. I once worked with an agnostic woman who knew that God's name was Jehovah because she had seen an Indiana Jones movie. She knew that God's original purpose was for the earth to be a paradise because she had seen the film _Dogma_. Though she had never been in a church, she knew more about God, from two movies, than do the majority of regular churchgoers.\n\nNonetheless, there will be little discussion of doctrine here—only so much as to set up the occasional punch line. Most of it must be read between the lines and may not reliably be found even there. Suffice it to say that Jehovah's Witnesses are generally credited with knowing their Bibles well and they think that most teachings of the traditional churches are wrong. Seeking to obscure the fact that President Eisenhower was raised a Witness, as though wistfully envisioning a standing tree without roots, a family member recalls that: \"Mother and Father knew the Bible from one end to the other. In fact, Mother was her own concordance. Without using one, she could turn to the particular scriptural passage she wanted,\" since they \"lived by the cardinal concepts of the Judaic-Christian religion.\"16 Yep. It is usually true of Jehovah's Witnesses. They usually know it \"from one end to the other.\"\n\nAlmost all brands of religion respect Jesus. He is also a common denominator for the religious and non-religious. Mark Twain savaged religion. He savaged the Bible. \"He was a preacher, too... and never charged nothing for his preaching, and it was worth it, too!\" says Huck Finn, one of his fictional characters. But Twain never had an unkind word for Jesus. To the contrary, the problem in his eyes was that nobody followed him.17 This is among the reasons that the book _The 100_ , by Michael Hart, rates Mohammed before Jesus in importance. Both are founders of religions, but Mohammed's followers, by and large, follow their founder and Jesus' followers, by and large, do not.18 \"There has been only one Christian. They caught and crucified him–early,\" writes Mark Twain.\n\nTherefore, start with the words of Jesus and you are usually on firm ground. Immerse yourself in the gospels long enough and you begin to speak as he does. You begin to think the heart is much more important than the head, even though leadership in the greater world today is invariably presumed to be a matter for the head, and only the most educated need apply. Jesus addresses the heart, spinning parables not readily grasped by head alone, and therefore dismissed by ones of little heart as unworthy of their time. In elevating heart over head, you may trigger the scorn of those who would reverse the order. They might feign pity over how you must be suffering massive cognitive dissonance to be so intransigent in the face of their mighty arguments.\n\nDon't let it bother you. If there was anything to cognitive dissonance, Americans would explode watching television pharmaceutical ads, with narrator insisting that you must have the stuff peddled and voiceover saying that it may kill you. One way to deal with cognitive dissonance is to acknowledge that you don't have to know everything. Another way is to acknowledge that you don't have to know it _now_. There will always be some cognitive dissonance in searching for the human/divine interface, as we will be doing. Some people derive energy from debating, like a hurricane gathering strength over warm water. Step aside and let them drown in it. Jesus relied upon heart and common sense. Sometimes common sense turns out to be wrong and should be rejected, but never for the sole reason that it is \"common.\"\n\nSome of my initial assumptions about Russia proved questionable. Others proved flat-out wrong. No matter. Jehovah's Witnesses are not political people—some of them barely know that politics exist. They are not experts on the issues that governments face, nor their underlying philosophies. They don't know much about the world of kings. If some initial assumptions prove inaccurate, they never said they knew about them in the first place. This book tells of our efforts to reach Russian officials as persons, not as government leaders. I like to think the best of people. Sometimes that turns out to be naïve. What I hope to do is capture the emotion, the hopes, and even the joys of those given an opportunity to identify with their \"brothers\" in a distant and uniue part of the world. This will be a human story, not a political one. It will be an account not only of what happened, but of what people thought was happening.\n\nWhat Witnesses know most about government is that they'd like for them to leave them be. \"First of all, then, I ask that supplications, prayers, petitions, and thanksgivings be offered for everyone, for kings and for all in authority, that we may lead a quiet and tranquil life in all devotion and dignity,\" writes the apostle Paul to Timothy. \"Do you wish to have no fear of authority? Then do what is good and you will receive approval from it, for it is a servant of God for your good. But if you do evil, be afraid, for it does not bear the sword without purpose.\" Okay. Got it. Jehovah's Witnesses will not make trouble as they lead their quiet, tranquil lives of devotion and dignity. But sometimes trouble searches them out.19\n\nSeveral have thought me too charitable in my assessment of Russian officials, to which I acknowledge that my assessment is to some extent built upon wishful thinking and a distaste for imputing motive. How can anyone know for sure? I am halfway around the world, immersed in a completely different culture. Modern life molds us to ignore fundamental principles of getting along that once were as common as dirt. Always impute good motives. If it turns out you are wrong, drop a notch and see if you can get your head around how the villain became a villain; sometimes that allows you to snatch a measure of victory from defeat. But if you accuse every foe from the outset of ill motive you have lost before you have begun.\n\nAs far as I am concerned, Trump v Hillary is a godsend for the preacher of the gospel because it brings into stark relief 2 Timothy 3:1-5, that run-on list of negative traits: \"There will be terrifying times in the last days. People will be self-centered and lovers of money, proud, haughty, abusive, disobedient to their parents, ungrateful, irreligious, callous, implacable, slanderous, licentious, brutal, hating what is good, traitors, reckless, conceited, lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God, as they make a pretense of religion but deny its power.\" It used to be that if you cited the passage and your listener didn't agree it is fulfilled now more than ever, there was not much you could do about it; manifestly, it is subjective. These days its fulfillment is evident. It used to be that people would scream at each other till the cows come home over God/no God, medicine/alternative medicine, science/metaphysics or various other sideshows that could be ignored by the average person. But with Trump/hate Trump, almost everybody is drawn in and \"Two Timothy 3\"20 becomes the defining year text for this entire system of things.\n\nEven \"truth\" and \"lies\" have become subjective. Everyone has their own. It is as the Bible Book of Isaiah says. People say: \"What is bad is good and what is good is bad.\" It is not just true in spiritual matters. It is true in every aspect of life today—in politics, in philosophy, and in the general discussion of all things, whether slight or serious. Charles Manson's greatest contribution to humanity, perhaps his only contribution, was to say: \"Once upon a time, being crazy meant something. Nowadays, everyone is crazy.\" This new normal adds a new relevance to Jesus words: \"And this gospel of the kingdom will be preached throughout the world as a witness to all nations, and then the end will come,\" an utterance always on the list of favorite Witness scriptures. \"As a witness\" is the best one can consistently hope for, a witness to another way of life in which people actually get along with one another.21\n\nLet us not be too maudlin in telling this tale. We could be forgiven for doing so. The 56-year-old Witness chatting with friends who suffered a liquor bottle smashed over her head by someone screaming: \"You Jehovists are banned!\" so that people nearby thought they had heard a shot—she may not laugh for a while.22 It may be some time before Dennis Christensen, the first modern Witness in Russia to be jailed for studying the Bible, will laugh. How funny can it be languishing in prison? though he actually did break into encouraging song at a video court appearance before the guards told him to shut up. But let us not sing the blues either, much less: _Nobody Knows the Trouble I've Seen_ \"23 In general, Jehovah's Witnesses are a happy people. Knock them down and they get back up. They laugh a lot. It should not be a great surprise since God himself is said to be happy. If he is, those who trust in him will also be.24\n\nChristians are described as providing a theatrical spectacle to the world.25 It is theater enacted on countless front porches—which must suffice for the stage. Sometimes Witnesses get rave reviews. Sometimes they are booed off the stage. There is an element of comedy to it. \"I can never get over a Christian's 'need' to save people,\" one atheist told me derisively. It _is_ a little funny, isn't it? I played along and told him that my psychiatrist had diagnosed in me just such a need, on the hunch that maybe he would play ball if he thought he was cooperating with science.\n\nThe verse that I was featuring that day, from Job, was one that can set the stage for many a discussion about suffering and why God permits it. \"You that have understanding, hear me: far be it from God to do wickedness; far from the Almighty to do wrong!\"26 I like that verse because some people think he _does_ do wickedness. Others look at all that is transpiring and say: \"I don't think there _is_ a God.\" An ensuing conversation can veer in so many directions. This particular stage featured a new twist—the householder was in a wheelchair. I had noted walking up the driveway two bumper stickers, \"Born Right the First Time,\" and \"There are Death Squads in America – They Are Called Insurance Companies.\" Now, I am not one to read too much into bumper stickers, but sometimes they tell it all. \" _You_ are here to tell _me_ about suffering?\" he hurled in my face. \"No,\" I answered. \"I am here so that you can tell me.\" You never know what will happen. The porches are stages. The door to door ministry is the show. Best not to be rigid in what you plan to say or do.\n\nLet us also avoid any \"clash of the titans\" tone. Leonid Bershidsky writes in Bloomberg about the turmoil in Russia. He is a fine writer. He gets everything right. He has read Emily Baran's book (more on that later), which everyone should read. He misses only the possible machinations of the rival church, which is not his specialty. But he cannot resist a dramatic flair at the end: \"Russia has no more patience with openness and tolerance. Putin's regime doesn't care whether it passes any tests on that score. In a way, it's as defiant as the Witnesses, and so far, it's just as resilient. But the Jehovah's Witnesses have been resilient for longer.\"27 Such dramatization makes for more gripping a read. I do it myself. But Witnesses don't carry on in this way. They _are_ resilient, but they would not characterize themselves as defiant. They stay low-key. They are not the Hollywood version of _The Bible_ in which Moses pops Pharaoh in the nose and gets the girl. They are the Bible's own version of itself in which Moses squirms to avoid his commission because he is clumsy of speech, and he acquiesces only when told Aaron will be there to hold his hand.28\n\nNeither will we demonize Russian President Putin. He is head of a different type of government—a different type of \"human rulership.\" I am a product of the West and I like it here. But if I were a product of the East I would no doubt like it there, too. Russian Witnesses (absent the persecution) are perfectly content within their country of origin and go out of their way to behave there. Often, as one surveys news reports, one reads statements to the effect that they love the people and culture and would prefer not to leave. They set themselves up as neither cheerleaders nor resisters of any form of government. \"Tell us your rules for maintaining public order,\" they say to the king, \"and we will follow them.\" The temptation to demonize officials is strong. Outright confiscation of the Watchtower branch facilities in St. Petersburg, which essentially means picking the pockets of modest and poor people the world over who donated toward it, provides such temptation. But let us not go there. All human governments are a mix of virtue and villainy. Let us not attempt to sort it out here.\n\nThough unapologetically a Witness, I promise, more or less, not to take any cheap shots at Witness detractors. Cheap shots are in the eye of the beholder and there are intransigent opponents of the faith to whom anything short of a complete renunciation of beliefs will be a cheap shot. There is little I can do about that and I won't try. But everyone else gets a fair shake. Even the opponents themselves are not deliberately antagonized. My audience will vary from non-Witness to current Witness to former Witness. Roll with it if you can. The task is all the more challenging because I have not renounced sarcasm, \"the language of the Devil,\" as Thomas Carlyle called it. If Bershidsky cannot swear off the dramatic flourish, I cannot swear off the sarcasm. It may be the language of the Devil, but it is also the more stimulating, and ye (that is, me) of little willpower falls for it every time. But I do not want to be like the American celebrity who blurts out something blatantly partisan and thus antagonizes half his or her audience. I have endeavored to keep it under tight control. Expect nothing but joy and love around here, with minor caveats.\n\n***~~~***\n\nAn earlier edition of this work included in Part II a chapter entitled \"Pedophiles.\" In this edition, I have removed this chapter—naturally, some explanation is in order. When I wrote this present book dealing with the woes of Jehovah's Witnesses in the East, I did not then anticipate that I would write one later of their woes in the West. That latter work, _TrueTom vs the Apostates!_ deals at length with that controversy. It is a topic that never arose in any Russian connection. Therefore, save for a brief discussion at the end of chapter 18, I have decided to let the latter work handle it. It fits there. It doesn't here. For the same reason, I have pruned some paragraphs from Chapter 11 – Apostasy. They fit the latter work, but not so much the present.\n\nIntroduction endnotes\n\nReturn to Table of Contents\n\n# PART I\n# Chapter 1 – The Soviets\n\nEmily Baran hatched a hagiography when she wrote _Dissent on the Margins_ , according to one reviewer. Perhaps I should not admit it, but I had to look up the word. Having done so, as with all new words, I afterwards spied it everywhere; it must have been there all along and I had till then relied upon context for sufficient definition. For less enlightened ones who are where I recently was, it essentially means that _these people are too good to be true,_ and therefore the critic does not believe that they _are_ true. He even heightened the \"hag\" to \"gag.\" The word he actually used was \"gagiography,\" perhaps revealing a personal distaste for the subject. Or was it just a typo? One mustn't give in to paranoia. Baran takes it as a typo1 but perhaps only to control her rage. She disagrees with either term due to their implication that she is not objective, the worst of all possible sins for a historian. She _is_ a historian of Witness persecution in Russia—the _only_ one that I am aware of. She covers exclusively the Russian government's campaign against the religion from Stalin times to her book's 2014 date of publication—and this writer picks up, more or less, where she left off.\n\nIn her forward, Baran thanks everyone under the sun who has helped her, as a writer should. Then she specifically thanks her university mentor for never asking: \"Why Jehovah's Witnesses?\" If he didn't do it, I won't do it. We don't have to know everything. She is probably glad she did choose the Witnesses, though, since the story for anyone else would be duller. All minority religion is bullied in Russia today, but only the Jehovah's Witnesses organization has been formally branded extremist. I will draw upon her book heavily for background. This particular chapter could not be written without it, and other chapters are spared many obtuse statements because of it.\n\nPerhaps the hagiography criticism stems from the palpable impression Baran conveys that Jehovah's Witnesses walk the talk, and not just talk the talk, and the reviewer, having not seen it before, supposes it not possible. Baran mentions the Soviets' dismay when there appeared no difference between a Witness's private person and his or her public person.2 They had just assumed that the two would be different, as they always are, and that they could appeal to the private person in pursuit of their goal to undermine the faith. But with the Witnesses they discovered essentially no difference between public and private. The description of Ezekiel's countrymen that so universally applies seemed not to apply to them: \"For them you are only a singer of love songs, with a pleasant voice and a clever touch. They listen to your words, but they do not obey them.\"3 Witnesses would agree with the words. They constitute a \"love song\" to many persons of religion. They are inspirational—the stuff of stirring song, moving poetry, rousing prose, but as to obeying them? No. Jehovah's Witnesses, however, to the best of their ability, obey them. Ham-fistedly they do it sometimes, for they are not diplomats, but they do strive to obey them.\n\n_Dissent on the Margins_ is not a hagiography at all—what was that critic smoking? _This_ account one might label a hagiography, if one must, and I would dispute it only half-heartedly, but not hers. Would Baran's unflattering critic also label the Book of Acts a hagiography? During trialsome decades of unrelenting Soviet opposition, Baran relates that many Witnesses stumbled, failed, or even betrayed their own—nothing hagiographic about that. She relates that the churn rate of Jehovah's Witnesses was very high in Russia, higher than in the Western world, where it is also high.4 Witnesses there lived with the prospect that they might, at any time, be arrested, fired from employment, and even have their children taken from them, all threats that are being revisited today. Censure from their neighbors was likely, and censure from the press a near certainty. Many left—though they were replaced by new persons—and their departure is more than offset by the fact that enthusiasm and participation among Witnesses is high. After all, in many religions, persons may not formally leave, but how would you know if they did?\n\nPerhaps the Witness history is called a hagiography because their core continued to grow overall despite concerted efforts to stamp it out, despite many who left—and that growth exploded after 1991. The Soviets had conveyed mixed messages through the years regarding Witnesses, never having figured out how to handle them. On the one hand, they were loyal Soviet citizens who had simply been misled by fanatics and needed patient rescue. On the other hand, with no clergy-laity division, it was difficult to know just who the fanatics were. Therefore, Soviet policy was that all should be considered potential fanatics until re-educated.5 The government maintained constant efforts to defame them, \"uttering every kind of evil,\" against them.6 Through it all, overall membership rose.\n\nFailing to eliminate the faith outright, communist officials continually sought to divide it, planting their own agents as \"false brothers,\" a ploy that caused much damage.7 Nonetheless, at Witness headquarters, they considered that they had the playbook on how to deal with such methods. It is the Book of Acts, in fact, the entire New Testament, which details the spread of first-century Christianity despite continual, even violent, opposition. Under Joseph Stalin, there were mass deportations of Witnesses to Siberia. The Witnesses, however, readjusted, to regard these deportations as opportunities to continue proselytizing, just as is related in the eighth chapter of Acts.\n\nTypically, Witnesses would meet secretly in private homes. They resisted the draft, withstood atheistic schooling, and avoided participation in government-sponsored activities. They believed all governments were controlled by Satan—that of the U.S, that of the U.S.S.R, and all the remaining ones. They saw the Cold War as a manifestation of the clash between the king of the north and the king of the south described in the Book of Daniel, a conflict which was to lead to Armageddon. Soviet authorities seem never to have fully understood the teachings of Jehovah's Witnesses. Despite their pacifism, they were accused of war-mongering due to their expectation of Armageddon. Despite their conflicts with the U.S. government, they were branded as agents of American imperialism. This author well remembers working in New York State with the tract _Jehovah's Witnesses – Christians or Communists_ , a tract designed to counter just the opposite impression among Americans—that they were communists!\n\nThe Witness organization didn't help its own cause by designating Russia the \"king of the north,\" who \"floods into many lands,\" and puts trust in the \"god of fortresses.\"8 It is an interpretation of the eleventh chapter of Daniel that others have shared—Witnesses are hardly the only ones to have put those verses under the magnifying glass. It does not necessarily sit well with persons not religious. Did Soviets export communism into other lands? The king of the south did no less with his brand of government. Even if the Soviets did parade around their weapons in public, did not the southern king also project military might, these days in countries more numerous than he? And what is to be made of a religion that opines about the United Nations, as the Witnesses have? For Russia, the United Nations has traditionally been an arena in which to get beaten up, since Western countries outnumber Eastern countries in the Security Council. Soviet officials perhaps checked in the Bible and didn't see the term: \"United Nations.\" What sort of a \"religion\" is this? the atheistic Soviet government said, which could hardly be expected to pick up on religious nuances.\n\nWith the fall of communism in 1991, Jehovah's Witnesses were among the last faiths to be legally registered. After 26 years of legally operating, they are the first to be banned. The move did not come overnight; it had been building. Most Russian Witnesses of Jehovah in Soviet times were shipped via boxcar to long Siberian exile in 1949, with follow-up in 1951.9 The Soviet government never acknowledged those exiles.10 The media since 1991 has only rarely done so, opting instead to reinforce derogatory cult perceptions. No Witness member was caught flat-footed with the present ban; the Russian Witnesses always thought that efforts to belay it would come to naught—though one can always hope. Opposition to the Witnesses was not universal. Powerful factions worked against them, but there were also friendly factions to defend them, usually comprised of those who actually knew some individually, as happens everywhere.\n\nDocuments smuggled from KGB archives were published in the 2000 book: _The Sword and the Shield_. According to the FBI, they represented the \"most complete and extensive intelligence ever received from any source.\" A tiny section of them reveals Soviet obsession over the \"Jehovists,\" an obsession far out of proportion to their numbers. The documents reveal dismay that, once exiled, Jehovah's Witnesses did not give up. They \"did not reject their hostile beliefs and in camp conditions continued to carry out their Jehovist work.\"11 Moreover, those not exiled persisted in aiding those that were, supplying them with money, food, and clothing. The KGB had thought it would be _out of sight, out of mind_. Jehovah's Witnesses proved that with them, it would be otherwise.\n\nOne Witness of the time stated: \"The more I suffered, the more I preached.\"12 His course was not unique. Witnesses' refusal to cease religious activity challenged labor camp order and undermined the purported goal of reforming criminals into honest Soviet citizens. When broken up, Witnesses preached to a new audience. When isolated, they formed a \"theological seminary\" and worked to spread their Bible literature. During Soviet times, the Watchtower organization, though based in the United States, made persistent efforts to instruct members that they had rights under Russian law.13 Those rights were invariably trampled. Nonetheless, they knew that they had them and that they were not criminals.\n\nRelatively few outside, or even inside, Russia, know of the intense persecution of Jehovah's Witnesses during Soviet times, though they will be familiar with religious persecution in general. Baran offers some reasons for this. Since Witnesses put no trust in human governments, whenever outside governments spotlighted religious persecution in the Soviet Union, they generally took no notice of Witnesses. The same characteristics that kept them on the KGB's watch list kept them off that of the outside media's—that of being \"no part of the world.\" Excepting the Witnesses, most buy into the notion that God rules by working through the existing arrangement of nations. The Witnesses differing viewpoint is a circumstance too puzzling for media to deal with, and so they at times resort to the response mentioned by the apostle Peter—they turn hostile toward the unfamiliar.14 Jehovah's Witnesses were simply too far out there. They were too far off the grid of contemporary thought. It didn't help that they were often rural and uneducated persons, who never rank highly on the world's watch list. They were self-isolated from ecumenical movements—so that when the outside world became aware of Christian persecution, it stayed unaware of that aimed at Jehovah's Witnesses.15 The religion was as obscure as could be to outsiders. In many ways it is still, despite members continually knocking on people's doors.\n\nNo religious group in the Soviet Union was persecuted with more determination than Jehovah's Witnesses. Baran relates an account from Soviet dissident writer Vladimir Bukovky, then in London. He relates how he chanced to come across a nondescript building with a simple sign out front that read \"Jehovah's Witnesses.\" The words inspired in him a sense of \"shock\" and \"almost fright.\" It was as though he had seen a sign: \"Cosa Nostra Limited: Mafia Headquarters.\" He thought, \"So these are the same Jehovists, the same sectarian fanatics that the Soviet authorities used to scare children? This is that same underground, that most secret of all the 'sects' in the USSR?\" The idea that this religion could operate in the open seemed almost inconceivable to him as a Soviet citizen. After all, he noted, \"One only sees real live Jehovists in prisons and even there they are underground.\" Soviet Witnesses were the stuff of \"legends.\" Folks used to say that even a Witness in a punishment cell in the strictest of camps could still manage to receive the latest Watchtower issues from Brooklyn. This sort of power inspired an \"almost mystical horror\" in the authorities, who hunted down every last Jehovist they could find and sentenced them to long terms in the camps.16\n\nOne Soviet official complained at his collective farm in 1957, \"We have people belonging to the Jehovist sect. Those of you who do not know this sect, God help you never to know.\"17 The sheer tenacity of Witnesses vaulted them head and shoulders above all other groups, though they numbered far fewer. A survey Baran cites of atheist literature directed toward religious sects between 1955 and 1966 revealed that 17 percent was dedicated to Witnesses, 12 percent to Baptists, 9 percent to Pentecostals, 7 percent to Seventh Day Adventists, and about 50 percent to \"sectarianism\" in general.18\n\nThe pattern has reestablished itself. No group in Russia today is persecuted more than Jehovah's Witnesses. It is not that they take delight in leading a race to the bottom—but in a way, they do. They have inherited the mantle of the true followers of Christ, who could depend upon persecution. As the Bible states: \"In fact, all who want to live religiously in Christ Jesus will be persecuted.\"19 It is a recognition of Jesus own words: \"No slave is greater than his master. If they persecuted me, they will also persecute you.\"20 Baran points out that the full expectation of persecution served to solidify Jehovah's Witnesses in Russia even as they suffered it.21\n\nTherefore, (let us admit it) Witnesses are gratified to take bottom prize, which they regard as top prize. If the world hates them, they reason that they must be doing something right. The United States Commission on International Religious Freedom awarded them just such a top prize among groups professing Christianity in its report on Russia in January of 2018. A chapter in the report is entitled: \"Muslims,\" another: \"Jehovah's Witnesses,\" and all that remains is: \"Others.\" Protestants receive \"honorable mention,\" but they do not get top prize. \"Christian Protestants, Baptists, Pentecostals, and Seventh Day Adventists also regularly face harassment in the press and pressure from the Russian bureaucratic machine. They have difficulties in obtaining land plots for their liturgical buildings; they are visited with inspections, and so on. However, up to the present, besides the Witnesses, only Pentecostals have faced prosecution under anti-extremist legislation,\" says the Commission.22 Of Scientologists, who do not profess Christianity, the report says: \"Adherents of the Church of Scientology have been less affected by anti-extremist measures than Jehovah's Witnesses, but the existence of their communities in Russia can hardly be called comfortable.\"23 Mormons also experience much resistance. Yet, when they sought to build a church in 2018 Moscow, the Supreme Court ruled in their favor, despite fierce local opposition—so fierce that local officials are prepared to defy the court. Possibly the Mormons' quest is aided by the circumstance that the current U.S. ambassador to Russia is a Mormon, from which a TV special concludes: \"The round-up of our souls is continuing.\"24 Nonetheless, they do get to build their church at a time when existing properties of Jehovah's Witnesses are being confiscated.\n\nSo heavy was the cost one might be required to pay during Soviet years, it is little wonder Baran found that so many Witnesses left the faith, even as others joined. But the cost of being a Witness is significant everywhere, for theirs is a religion which does not suffer being kept \"in its place.\" Or rather, it does suffer it, but insists that place is first place, not last place. Those who choose to become Witnesses do so for exactly that reason. They are like the biblical merchant who finds the pearl of great price and promptly sells all that he has to obtain it. Witnesses find answers in Bible verse that they find nowhere else, answers to questions generally deemed unanswerable. They think it proper to keep interests related to those answers in first place.25\n\nThe pearl that they find they regard as the true news, contrasting with what they find fake. _Yes, of course!_ they say: _The earth is to be our home, as it was originally intended to be. It is not merely a testing ground, to serve as a launching pad into heaven or a trap door into hell._ The sole sizable religion teaching this is surely not the one to eliminate. Baran relates that \"one former gulag prisoner recalled how Witness prisoners offered one another spiritual encouragement. Noting with some admiration that Witnesses even sang in the camps, he commented: 'Truly only someone who has internal freedom can become a Jehovah's Witness.'\"26\n\nChapter two of the Book of Acts covers a period with overtones more communist than democratic. The Catholic NABRE translators label the section: \"Communal life.\"27 The Bible verses read: \"They devoted themselves to the teaching of the apostles and to the communal life...all who believed were together and had all things in common; they would sell their property and possessions and divide them among all according to each one's need. Every day they devoted themselves to meeting together in the temple area and to breaking bread in their homes. They ate their meals with exultation and sincerity of heart, praising God and enjoying favor with all the people. And every day the Lord added to their number those who were being saved.\"28 It is not communism—it is but a temporary arrangement—but clearly it is not the \"rugged individualism\" of American thinking.\n\nAll clergy handling the Word of God mangle it to some extent, say Jehovah's Witnesses, but the American clergy gives it an additional peculiar twist. The Bible does not celebrate fierce independence. More often it celebrates submitting to authority. The Bible does not celebrate free speech. Sometimes it celebrates shutting people up. The Bible does not celebrate standing for one's rights. More often it celebrates yielding to the greater good. Jesus, the founder, the Christ, leads the way in yielding to the greater good. It wasn't for insisting upon his rights that he was put to death.\n\nDuring the 1970s, when Czechoslovakia was under communist rule, this writer studied the Bible with an elderly Czech woman, a refugee who fled to the U.S. with her son. In hindsight, she seemed to have adopted me as though a grandson. I used as a study guide the book _The Truth That Leads to Eternal Life_ in English, and she the same book in Czech. Several times she remarked that Jehovah's Witnesses in her country were the most crude and backward (she actually said \"ignorant\") of people. Several times she remarked that her book was a terrible translation. What is remarkable is that it was a translation at all. Witnesses at the time were denied education. The regime saw to it that they were fired from their jobs. They subsisted because they had picked up various work-a-day skills such as shoe repair.29 Others found it too inconvenient to be prohibited from buying or selling without the mark of the beast. Jehovah's Witnesses steadfastly refused the mark, but their refusal was not without cost.\n\nThough they were persons uneducated, they encountered in prison intellectuals and educated ones who had balked at the communist regime. These had been made outcasts, and as a result many embraced the Witness beliefs as they were searching for answers to the meaning of life. There are many stories of Witness members starting studies with such individuals behind bars. Former president and playwright Vaclav Havel, once imprisoned for dissident views, received a witness. He is known to have said something to the effect of: \"That all sounds very wonderful, but I don't think I can wait. I want change now.\" In later years, his library included several Witness publications.30\n\nJehovah's Witnesses were allowed to register with the Soviet authorities on February 28, 1991. Without direction from Bethel headquarters in the U.S, it would not have happened. Few Russian Witnesses could imagine it. Not all were keen on it. They and the authorities had been at loggerheads forever. How could they possibly register and maybe cede control to the government? Few could know that government officials had been rethinking their policy regarding Jehovah's Witnesses, a rethinking motivated in part by recognition that past policy had consumed massive reserves of energy to little avail.\n\nA changing government during the time of \"glasnost\" (openness) had begun to think that the time had come for Russia to join the world community in accommodation of the Witness religion. Visiting the U.S. for other reasons, certain Soviet officials dropped in at Brooklyn Bethel in a quest to clarify points strange to them. As though they were Jehovah's Witnesses themselves, they came calling unannounced, and those they wanted to speak with were \"not at home.\"31 Most likely it was during Regional Conventions time, when Governing Body members skirt around the globe to one stadium after another and their wives become \"convention widows.\" Nonetheless, those who did receive the visitors from Russia were gracious, showed them around, and arrangements were made for a subsequent meeting.\n\nOne can only admire the Soviet officials of that time, who were noble-minded enough to investigate and conclude that the Witness's unorthodox beliefs constituted no threat to them. They struggled valiantly to grasp \"some notions strange to our ears,\" just as the Athenians did long ago with the apostle Paul.32 They struggled to get their heads around biblical notions that flew in the face of their atheistic training, notions that even the mainline churches found strange. It was enough to crack open the door to \"church\" Christianity, but _this_! One can only admire these ones. Their course evokes the sentiments of a noble Gandhi counseling Lord Kelvin that if nations would actually apply Jesus' Sermon on the Mount, the world's problems would soon dissipate—an oft-repeated grapevine quote that the Watchtower has recently rejected, even though they love it, since there is no proof that the two ever met.33\n\nThe authors of _A Sword and A Shield_ note that \"the Jehovist obsession of senior KGB officers was, perhaps, the supreme example of their lack of any sense of proportion when dealing with the most insignificant forms of dissent.\" But Baran doesn't buy the suggestion that all churches are the same and it is merely a question of _why pick disproportionately on the most insignificant?_ She understands the difference between Jehovah's Witnesses and the traditional churches. She gets the nuances and avoids the red herrings. It was not easy for Soviet officials in 1991 to clear up these matters. \"Christians today can no more take sides in the cold war between the East and the West than Jesus and his disciples took sides in the political strife between the Romans and the Jews,\" stated a 1961 Awake article. Does that not clearly denote neutrality? Nonetheless, Witness publications originating from Brooklyn had at times used such expressions as \"totalitarian\" and \"iron curtain,\" especially in the days of previous Watchtower Society presidents Rutherford and Knorr—expressions the Soviets would not have applied to themselves. Neutrality, too, is in the eye of the beholder.34\n\nThe Witnesses looked to God's kingdom to bestow peace and plenty upon all. But that is what the Communist government of Russia had also promised. Did not persons embracing the kingdom hope imply that they were rejecting the secular version—the \"official\" one? It had been a major stumbling block for years. The Russian visitors worked at those strange notions—that the one-day destruction of earthly governments was based upon Bible prophesy, and was not an invitation to revolt, for example. In fact, it was just the opposite, for Jesus tells Peter to put down his weapon, since \"all who take the sword will perish by the sword.\" If Witnesses announce the coming end of human rulership, still they have no role in bringing it about. That is to be God's doing. Moreover, their God doesn't have a complaint with any present government in particular—it is human government itself that is the problem.35\n\nIf world media outlets ignored Jehovah's Witnesses back then, they would find it harder to do today, even were that their intent. Today, the Witness organization has become more visible. God has \"beautified\" it, as believers would say, taking a phrase from Isaiah. Doings of the Watchtower organization today are too big to ignore. Yearly it arranges well over a thousand annual summer gatherings, filling stadiums and arenas, to serve its entire membership. In some cases, facilities in ill-repair beforehand, are revitalized and left in spotless condition.\n\nWith any natural disaster, Jehovah's Witnesses are among the first upon the scene. Theirs is an organized response unequalled, quickly restoring the homes of their own, with spillover efforts benefiting the general community as time and volunteer efforts hold out. The website JW.org employs every advance of digital technology and releases content thoroughly professional. An experience related in the JW 2017 yearbook relates how an Italian information technology firm declared JW.org the best website in the world for general layout and recommended it as the premiere example for imitation.36 In these and other ways, the organizational visibility of Jehovah's Witnesses is much improved from what it was a few decades ago. Mark Sanderson, of the Witness's Governing Body, present during both the April 20th trial and its appeal, related how he was approached by diplomatic persons worldwide, all very aware of the true nature of the Witnesses' work, extending offers of assistance within their capabilities. They would hardly have been so aware absent the website and increased visibly.\n\nNo nation has succeeded in ridding itself of Jehovah's Witnesses once they appear, Baran observes in _Dissent on the Margins_. Soviets succeeded in removing Witness \"fanatics\" only to find that their non-fanatics rose to the occasion and became so themselves. Give them a good solid punch to the gut and they collapse like everyone else. But they regroup. They stumble seven times, as the Proverb says, but each time they get up. Some are like Peter, who caved under unexpected trial, and denied his Lord three times. Some of those are like Peter again, who beat himself up over it, and who, when extended the invitation to straighten up and fly right, did just that, in time serving more mightily than he had served while his Lord was walking about.\n\nTo be Russian Orthodox is part of what it means to be Russian. In a survey of the 1990s, 42 percent of self-identified atheists and 50 percent of self-identified nonbelievers identified themselves as Orthodox.37 It constitutes more than a religion. It is Russian culture and Russian national identity. Almost unanimously, Russians think it a positive institution. Even atheists do. A friend of this author who travels to Serbia, where there is also a national Orthodox church, reports that locals will say the most horrible things about clergy and proceedings38 – but that does not mean that you can do so. The Church preserved national unity through perilous times, and for that a multitude of sins are overlooked. It is likely the same in Russia. There are certain patterns that play out everywhere.\n\nThe Russian Church did not take well to the onslaught of competition from, not just the Witnesses, but many other groups unleashed in the aftermath of Soviet collapse. In time, Aleksandr Dvorkin, a one-time priest of the Church, coined the term \"totalitarian sect\" to designate any organization which \"violates the rights of [its] members and inflicts harm on them through the use of certain methods he termed 'mind control.'\"39 The definition of mind control is so loose that it is essentially triggered by persuading anyone that the Russian Church is not the only game in town. Many minority faiths are charged with this offense, not just Jehovah's Witnesses.\n\nThe latest tightening of Russian anti-extremism law comes in the form of the two \"Yarovaya laws\" enacted in 2016, so named after their sponsor. The Russia Program Director of the Huffington Post, Tanya Lokshina, writes in that outlet that the laws were \"rammed through\" the State Duma legislature.40 She writes that because they were published in their revised form only on the day they were to be voted upon, which was the last day before summer recess, and thereby were \"without any meaningful debate or scrutiny\"—worrisome given the \"draconian\" limits they place upon free expression. It was her opinion that the most onerous provisions (stripping the most serious miscreants of citizenship), generating outcry and subsequently dropped at the last moment, served to distract from provisions only somewhat less onerous.\n\nTo the extent that the law involves religion (most of it does not), Lokshina says it bans proselytizing, preaching, praying, or disseminating religious materials outside of \"specially designated places,\" the officially recognized religious institutions. In theory, if you discussed at home the sermon you just heard even at the Orthodox Church service, and it upset someone, that person might report you and you might find yourself in hot water. Let religion be dispensed only by the professionals, \"mercenary ministers,\" as Witness lawyer Victor Blackwell (whom we shall hear from later) called them decades ago. Discuss it, and even _pray_ , outside of the designated places, and you are potentially in trouble, should someone complain. Moreover, they are _obligated_ to complain, per another provision of the law, and \"failure to report\" anything deemed extremist makes them liable to a possible prison term. Even children as young as 14 are subject to arrest for this \"crime.\"\n\nShare your religion without the \"required paperwork?\"41 No. \"Virtually any religious practice, including rituals, sermons, reading of religious literature, and sharing religious views online\" becomes the proper subject of police and public prosecutor investigation, as they are called upon to \"clarify what is a worship service, a sermon, or a meeting of believers and what isn't.\"42\n\nThe terminology is new, but the pattern is old. Though there are new standards of regression, it has played out in most lands. The dominant church has a monopoly. Despite a captive audience, it has not seen fit to educate them with regard to the textbook most parishioners simply assume provides its underpinnings. Along comes Jehovah's Witnesses to do what they have declined to do, and they scream to high heaven. In her book, Baran states: \"In contrast, however, to many of the Western Christian organizations setting up shop in the region, the Russian Orthodox Church was not well prepared to handle competition.\"43 Well, whose fault is that? Had they not neglected their main charge, they would have been prepared. Jehovah's Witnesses do nothing more underhanded than to show up and point to what the Bible says. Church loyalists cry that a huckster can misrepresent scripture, but even that concern is remedied where persons have been taught to be fluent in the scriptures so that they can spot the hucksters themselves.\n\nIt played out this way in the United States even before the modern manifestation of Jehovah's Witnesses there. The dominant Catholic church kept people in the dark about the Bible, declaring that it was for the priests to teach it—and the priests declined to do so. With a certain amount of Bible knowledge, leaders of the strengthening Protestant communities made Bible reading a part of public school curriculum, to the displeasure of many priests. The book: _A Separate Identity_ tells of one such campaign in Pennsylvania during the mid-1800s: \"The Pittsburgh Catholics protested, saying that Bible reading and teaching caused 'irreverence.' They believed Bible reading undermined church authority. For many Catholics, public school Bible reading was their first exposure to the book, and some asked questions the priests found uncomfortable.\"44\n\nThe Protestant Reformation retained the main doctrines of the much-older Catholics, so much so that the movement could be called more a rebellion than a reformation. What it did dispense with were certain clerical abuses plainly seen by merely reading the Bible. Verses so simple as: \"Call no one on earth your father\"45 caused consternation for priests who insisted upon being called just that. Later, Catholics and Protestants alike closed ranks upon Jehovah's Witnesses who demonstrated with ease from the Bible that even their agreed-upon common doctrines were unsupported in Scripture. Nikolai Gordienko, of the Herzen Russian State University in St. Petersburg, has stated: \"When the experts accuse Jehovah's Witnesses for their teachings, they do not realize that they are actually making accusations against the Bible.\"46\n\nMost church teachings are not explicitly found in the Bible. It is the attempt to read them in that makes the book incomprehensible. One cannot assemble the puzzle with damaged pieces. Everyone knows the experience of giving up on a puzzle whose assembly has proven impossible, as it surely will if pieces are missing or damaged. Such frustration is where many atheists are born. It is where many agnostics are born. It is not _solely_ where they are born, but they would birth in numbers far fewer if they understood that the Bible is logically coherent. One doesn't have to believe to take in knowledge of it—but take in knowledge is what should be done. Only upon seeing that the book makes internal sense can one begin to assess whether it is to be believed or not.\n\nThe mainstay beliefs of immortality of the soul and the triune nature of God are part and parcel of church tradition, be it Protestant, Roman Catholic, or Orthodox. Jehovah's Witnesses will tweak minor things right down to this day; it is \"the light getting brighter,\" they say. Yet their rejection of those major doctrines has been firmly in place for over a century. The triune doctrine, to them, makes god incomprehensible, and thus, unknowable. The torment-in-hell doctrine makes him fearsome and cruel, someone whom you would not want to know. The doctrines Witnesses discarded 100 years ago were popular with various intellectuals and philosophers of Christ's time. Later church leaders, wanting to curry favor with such ones, and possibly secure their conversion, incorporated their ideas, even if they made God unknowable. Some people like God unknowable. Some people even like him cruel, so long as he reserves his cruelty for their enemies.\n\nBaran's book cites occasions of the Russian Church warning when Jehovah's Witnesses were active in an area.47 You cannot read them without being reminded of warnings from the first-century Jewish leaders who expressed alarm over rapidly spreading Christianity back then. In L'viv [Moldavia] flyers proclaimed: \"Warning!!! The totalitarian sect, the Jehovah's Witnesses is very active in your district!!\" From the Book of Acts: \"These people who have been creating a disturbance all over the world have now come here.\" From a Russian priest: \"Caution: Life Threatening Sect!\" From Acts: \"Fellow Israelites, help us. This is the man [Paul] who is teaching everyone everywhere against the people and the law.\"48 The same warnings have been raised in many countries.\n\nIn 2000, with just nine years of free operation under their belts, and with opposition already moving in for the repeat kill, Jehovah's Witnesses in Russia distributed twelve million tracts entitled: _Could it Happen Again?_ recalling the exiles of 1949 and 1951, defending against certain charges, and pointing out that the Russian Constitution guarantees religious freedom. It also pointed out that 40 human rights experts in Russia and Eastern Europe had appealed for an end to the harassment and repression that Witnesses were increasingly being subjected to. A Witness from the Russian branch said: \"Sixty years ago in the Soviet Union, Jehovah's Witnesses experienced an unprecedented wave of persecution and repression. Lately, a new wave, a systematic campaign of harassment is being carried out against Jehovah's Witnesses; this time, some want to classify our literature and activity as extremist. Our meetings for worship are raided; worshippers are illegally detained, questioned, and searched. Their personal possessions are confiscated. In view of the seriousness of this situation, we, Jehovah's Witnesses in Russia, consider it necessary to provide our fellow citizens, not excluding government officials, with accurate information about ourselves, as well as about cases of the religious intolerance that we have encountered.\"\n\nSimilar campaigns to expose persecution (perpetrators usually wish to avoid public scrutiny) have proven effective elsewhere. But Baran opines that the campaign fell flat in Russia, both for reasons unique to the country and for reasons not.49 Jehovah's Witnesses there triggered little public sympathy, she observes, but that is true almost anywhere; the crux of the matter lies elsewhere. Outrage over the prospect of religious repression didn't occur in Russia on any significant scale, as they were used to little else. Moreover, the sudden wave of religious openness in the 90s was associated with other Western ideas, such as sudden democracy, which has not worked well in the eyes of many. It has opened the country up to charlatans and manipulators. Notions of freedom that the West think as natural as breathing air, Russians view with less enthusiasm.50 Like the Israelites of old, they like the idea of a strong king, and most think restraining him is not a fine idea.51 Perceiving that the West woefully mishandles freedom, perceiving it has proven only a mixed bag at best for them, few cared when Western ideals of religious freedom were cast aside. Overall, they like the Orthodox Church, if not for religious doctrine, then for culture and national identity.\n\nRussia is repentant of past Stalinist repressions, but not necessarily those against Jehovah's Witnesses. \"Putin says nothing can justify political persecution as Russia commemorates Stalin victims,\" runs an RT.com headline on October 30, 2017.52 The accompanying photo is that of Putin, Patriarch Kirill, and a human rights spokesman standing before the newly unveiled Wall of Grief in Moscow. The wall includes stone fragments collected throughout Russia, from sites where prison camps of the infamous GULAG system once operated. The wall was co-funded by the government and the general public.\n\nDuring Stalin's reign, Putin remarked, \"any person could face made-up and absolutely absurd charges...Millions of people [an estimated 39 million] were branded as enemies of the people, were executed or crippled, underwent torture in prisons and forced deportations. This terrible past cannot be erased from the national memory [nor] justified by whatever imaginary greater good of the people.\" Some episodes of Russia's past were debatable but not this one, the president said. \"The persecution campaign was a tragedy for our people, our society, a ruthless blow to our culture, roots and identity. We can feel the consequences now and our duty is not to allow it to be forgotten.\"\n\nStalin's persecution of general transgressors continued throughout his rule, peaking in the so-called Great Purge of 1936-1938. His exiling of Russian Witnesses came toward the end of his tenure, and constitutes but a tiny part of the whole, just as Witness persecution in Nazi Germany constitutes but a tiny part of the whole Holocaust. Putin says that those days are over. However, for those bound by conscience toward God, those days are manifestly less \"over\" than he indicates.\n\nChapter 1 Endnotes\n\nReturn to Table of Contents\n\n# Chapter 2 – Campaign and Trial\n\nThis chapter alone is written for Jehovah's Witnesses. Or rather, it was. It is culled from various posts written in real time as events unfolded. It is the only entire chapter of its sort. The general reader is invited to follow along, but if he thinks he is not primarily being addressed, he is right. He can skip the chapter with but salvageable damage to the overall storyline.\n\nFrom this author's point of view, it is the first chapter. It is my first stab at the topic. Some of the posts, in hindsight, seem overdramatic or betray naiveite. No matter. The object is to convey the emotion of the time. Search elsewhere for a Joe Friday \"Just-the-facts-ma'am\" narrative.1 Jehovah's Witnesses are often naïve as to events with political overtones. \"For the children of this world are more prudent in dealing with their own generation than are the children of light,\" says Jesus.2 To entitle this chapter: \"A Novice Comes Up to Speed\" would not be far amiss.\n\nAt the present time (January 2017) a situation is unfolding in Russia that has unfolded many times in many parts of the world. The enemies of Jehovah's Witnesses seek to ban the faith in that country. It may remind one of General Bell's WWI threat to Joseph Rutherford regarding a bill specifically designed to eliminate Jehovah's Witnesses in the United States: \"That bill did not pass because [President] Wilson prevented it; but we know how to get you and we are going to do it!\"3 In general, the military will not do such a thing. A patriot will not do it. Certainly, a civil libertarian will not do it. Those who grouse that Jehovah's Witnesses have woken them up from a sound sleep will not do it. Even Richard Dawkins, the atheist advocate who thinks all religion is a cancer and would snuff them out in a heartbeat, will not do it to Jehovah's Witnesses _specifically_. It is almost always powerful ones with strong Church connections who will do it.\n\nNote who does not do it: Wilson. He \"prevented it.\" Thereafter, as the opponents stirred up major trouble for the Witnesses back then, was he even aware of it? It is not as though his mind was not occupied with other matters. Likely it is that way in Russia. It doesn't go to the top. Likely, the one at the top will \"prevent it\" to a degree. But the one at the top is also like Pilate, as are all national leaders—he has a country to run. \"Look, this is not my cause,\" Pilate thought. \"I'll give the scoundrels what they want. That way, I'll get them out of my hair.\"\n\nCountries like Russia favor the \"house\" church. They don't necessarily believe it, they likely don't—Russia was long a country officially atheist—but leaders have found that worship of God simply cannot be extinguished, so it is channeled into a single main church as a concession. The main church, they find, is a strong force for national unity. They like that. It is a win-win. \"What can we do for you?\" they ask the main church. \"Take out the competition,\" is the reply.\n\nIt is that way with the dominant Russian Orthodox church. One needn't believe in God to embrace it. One needn't believe in God to resent criticism of it. 42% of self-proclaimed atheists and 50% of self-proclaimed nonbelievers identify with the Church, says Baran from the previous chapter. Vladimir Putin, a former high-ranking Communist, is likely of the atheist or agnostic camp. Perhaps he finds himself in a similar bind as did Pilate, who knew very well that Jesus was innocent, and tried to free him, but in the end gave in to those demanding his death in order to keep the overall peace.\n\nAre the publications of Jehovah's Witnesses in Russia, or anywhere, truly extremist? Dr. Ekaterina Elbakyan says that charges of extremism are nonsense. \"I saw with my own eyes the video material on the basis of which Jehovah's Witnesses were charged with extremism. Twice I gave a detailed commentary in court explaining that this was a typical Christian religious service and had nothing to do with extremism, but the court did not take the expert opinion into consideration. It is impossible not to see this as a clear and systematic trend toward religious discrimination. As long as this trend continues, there are, of course, no guarantees that believers will cease to be classified as 'extremists' because of their beliefs.\"4\n\nEven the Bible translation used by Jehovah's Witnesses has been branded \"extremist,\" though Dr. Gerhard Besier, director of the Sigmund Neumann Institute for the Research on Freedom and Democracy, observes: \"The New World Translation has received high praise worldwide from Bible scholars representing diverse religious communities.\"5 As to the experts relied upon by the state to eliminate Jehovah's Witnesses, Dr. George D. Chryssides states: \"I have personally never heard of the Center for Sociocultural Expert Studies, and the fact that Internet search engines can find no information on it speaks for itself...Since the so-called experts whose opinion has been sought in Russia identify innocuous books such as _My Book of Bible Stories_ and _The Greatest Man Who Ever Lived_ as examples of subversive literature, this must call their expertise, as well as their motivation, into question.\"6\n\nIf _My Book of Bible Stories_ and _The Greatest Man Who Ever Lived_ , and even the _New World Translation of the Holy Scriptures_ are banned as extremist, that means you had better not have them in your house of worship. Therefore, Jehovah's Witnesses removed them; they're nice, but not essential. There are other Bible translations available—they all work. But determined enemies planted the banned literature and their cohorts promptly came along to \"discover\" it.7 They have been caught red-handed doing this several times. It is searchable on the Witness website and is entitled: \"Russian Authorities Fabricate Evidence to Charge Witnesses with Extremism.\"8\n\nHow could any Witness in Russia not think it a remarkable coincidence that their greatest trial in decades erupts just as the 37th chapter of Isaiah is being considered in congregations worldwide through the scheduled weekly Bible reading? That schedule was determined 100 years ago, as it is simply reading through the Bible a few chapters at a time—reach the end and start over. The enemies of Jehovah's Witnesses, as of January, are fully empowered to close Bethel, the Administrative Center at St. Petersburg. (All branch headquarters, as well as main facilities in New York, are called \"Bethel,\" a Hebrew word that means \"house of God.\") The final legal appeal has been lost. And because of the scheduled Isaiah 37, Witness meetings around the world discussed the one-hour video \"Oh Jehovah, I Trust in You.\" The video dramatizes the Assyrian siege of Jerusalem during King Hezekiah's reign, and relates how a single angel eliminated 185,000 of the enemy army in a single night. It was first shown at the hundreds of Regional Conventions of Jehovah's Witnesses, and is now found on their website.\n\n\" _Hey, remember that angel we dispatched to Jerusalem? I'm impressed with his portfolio. Check on his availability, won't you?\"_ Is there that sort of discussion somewhere? Probably not. Witnesses take in on the chin these days. That angel is the _hit man_ angel and he is reserved for extraordinary occasions. Even Hezekiah, the Israelite King, was not smug about his back-up. He didn't assume that God was going to send the hit man; maybe he would and maybe he would not. He just knew that his role was to trust fully in Jehovah and remain faithful. And that's what our Russian brothers must do right now. Look, it will all turn against them one day. When Jesus was hauled before Pilate, he didn't sweet-talk his way out of it, did he? Similar is the hostility of this world today toward those who would follow Christ.\n\nHow will it play out this time? Will world opinion prevail upon leaders there to carry on as every other nation does, Russia now being the only nation on earth to ban JW.org? Our brothers bear up under persecution when they must, and it often brings honest-hearted, to say nothing of courageous, people into the fold. People say: \"Why are they making trouble for the Jehovahs? They're nice people.\" Time will tell.\n\nCongregations worldwide have seen recorded interviews of ordinary Witnesses in Taganrog, Russia, whose lives have been turned upside down by years of legal trials. They have heard them speak of their hardships—emotional, physical, and financial—and how they have been drained of every resource they had simply for following Christ. They saw a child who thinks perhaps both parents will be sent to prison for worshipping God. They saw a grandparent who thinks he will be sent there yet again—\"at 59, it is too much,\" he says. They saw a young man who cannot hold a job, as his employer cannot accommodate his frequent absences for court. If they can endure as they have endured, they will completely pour themselves out, just as the early Christians did, just as the Apostle Paul did, and just as Jesus did. All Witnesses pray for them to be given strength. \"Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul,\" says Jesus.9\n\nWitnesses realize who is their real enemy. They know that not all in government oppose them—they have been targeted by a vociferous minority with special interests. They recognize that their persecution does not come from ordinary people unless these have been stirred up by agitators, or the media under the influence of agitators. There was a barn fire in Russia in the dead of winter and firefighters saved 150 pigs. Find it and watch the firefighters joyously tossing piglets to each other in a bucket pig brigade.10 See? They rescue piglets over there just like we would rescue them here. People are people. Focus on the people, not the kings, nor their officials.\n\nDo persons suffer in such countries as Russia? Without a doubt, they do. But people suffer here in the U.S, too. They are just _different_ people. \"Authoritarian\" countries are much concerned with maintaining order. Many here suffer due to the lack of such concern. Some persons hearing of the Russian persecution of Jehovah's Witnesses are sympathetic. But others are exuberant. \"Yeah! And not only there, but everywhere!\" they shout. Is it people making themselves readily identifiable for the separating of the sheep and the goats, a separation based upon how they have treated \"Christ's brothers?\"11\n\nJesus said to his followers: \"Behold, I am sending you like sheep in the midst of wolves; so be shrewd as serpents and simple as doves. But beware of people, for they will hand you over to courts and scourge you in their synagogues, you will be led before governors and kings for my sake.\" Why would that occur? So as to be commended for fine work? No. It would be so that accusations could be hurled, necessitating a defense. The more vile the accusation, the better it will play for those who would malign Christ's followers.12\n\n\"I was just a boy when Stalin exiled my family to Siberia merely because we were Jehovah's Witnesses. It is sad and reprehensible that my children and grandchildren should be facing a similar fate. Never did I expect that we would again face the threat of religious persecution in modern Russia,\" says Vasiliy Kalin, as Russia petitions the Supreme Court to ban Jehovah's Witnesses.13 Jesus said his followers would be hailed before courts. Was it so that they could receive \"Good Citizenship\" plaques? \"What are they saying about me, here?\" said the Christian Apostle Paul to the Jewish leaders in Rome. \"Are they digging up any dirt on me?\" \"They answered him [this time literally]: \"We have received no letters from Judea about you, nor has any of the brothers arrived with a damaging report or rumor about you. But we should like to hear you present your views, for we know that this sect is denounced everywhere.\"14\n\nMr. Kalin was to testify at the trial, where he showed the Court his certificate of rehabilitation awarded him during the 1990s. It was presumably of him that one of the Witness attorneys said: \"There is present a person who was born in prison. Because his mama, five months pregnant, was sentenced as an enemy of the people to eight years in prison merely because she was a Jehovah's Witness. She gave birth in prison, and for two years the baby lived in the prison's children's home. His father could not take him, because he had been exiled to Siberia. In 1991 the state acknowledged the mother as a victim of political repressions, apologized to her, and allocated a pension. And now here in the court, this man, born in prison, came up to me and asked: 'Does the Ministry of Justice really want to repeat this horrible history?' And I did not know what to answer.\" At any rate, Kalin himself said at the trial that he was experiencing \"memories of the future.\"15\n\nPersecution is a mark of true religion today. Depend upon it that those who truly follow Christ will be \"denounced everywhere\" and even called extremist. One would think that the terrorist attacks that have become a staple of life would have taught the Russians what extremism is. Instead, for them it is as their opponent states:16 \"In their literature, there are some very harsh statements and very insulting statements about other faiths,\" says Alexander Dvorkin, the former Russian Orthodox priest who now teaches the history of religion and cult studies at St. Tikhon University in Moscow, whom we will hear from again. \"Of course, every religion has the right to criticize other faiths, but that should be done in a non-insulting manner, especially if you are talking about [my faith] the faith of the majority.\" (brackets mine)\n\nThe reason you can and should criticize other faiths is that, as any non-religious person knows, religion has historically served as cheerleader for war and killing. Thus, a growing number of persons would like to ban them all, not just Jehovah's Witnesses. It is ironic that Russia should start with one of the few religions totally innocent in that regard, as Witnesses are universally known to refuse military service.\n\nTrying to seduce the guileless ones, which is not necessarily difficult, for they _are_ guileless, one opponent poses as a Governing Body member on social media. C'mon! You don't say: _\"Brother Jackson is on Facebook! I know it's him because he liked the Jumping Jehovah's Witnesses picture!\"_ There _is_ such a thing as discernment. If he has actually opened a social media account (what are the chances?) it is a major change in method of communication. He would give plenty of notice beforehand on trusted channels. Here is explained why the Governing Body is unenthusiastic about Witnesses taking to the Internet: it is the land of the liars. It is the land in which a truly insightful remark is followed by that of a complete moron, who nonetheless has equal weight. One's opening assumption online must always be: \"Everyone here is a liar.\" Sort them out later, but open with that assumption. How can anyone possibly know who's who? Anyone can pretend to be anyone. Anyone can use anyone's photo. You must be \"social network smart.\"\n\nSome in the faith carry on as though they can assemble their own congregation on the Internet. They can't. There is no way to gauge spirituality. There is no way to tell if you are speaking to a liar or a saint. There is no channel to dispense spiritual food. Nobody knows if I am a circuit overseer when I venture online or if I am disfellowshipped. It is an uncontrollable place, this land. Our people are inherently trusting—guileless, and sometimes that blows up in their faces.\n\nThe masquerading fellow said: \"Pray for our brothers in Russia.\" A noble sentiment, for they are going through difficult times. In time, though, it became clear that he didn't give a hoot in hell for \"our brothers in Russia\"—jail them all as far as he is concerned. It was all a ruse so as to gain the confidence of trusting ones and redirect their attention to unflattering reports elsewhere. There wouldn't _be_ any brothers in Russia were it not for the organization he maligns. They would be all captive to the dominant church, whose daily text every day is: \"Take out the competition.\" They would know little of the Bible. It appears that he would like it that way, for it is not as though _he_ represents anyone following the Christian commission to spread the kingdom message. Once his tweet had served its purpose, he deleted it, and it is preserved only in screenshots.\n\nA Governing Body member appears on social media? Be \"shrewd as serpents,\" if you please. \"We ask you...not to be shaken out of your minds suddenly, or to be alarmed either by a \"spirit,\" or by an oral statement, or by a letter allegedly from us,\" writes the apostle to the Thessalonian congregation. \"A thief comes only to steal and slaughter and destroy,\" says the gospel. Depend upon it. They are up to no good when they come under false pretenses.16\n\nI don't even say that I am a Witness regarding my own web presence. Obviously, it can be read between the lines, but it is not plainly stated. I do get emails asking if I am or not. I don't link to the JW.org website either, because I imagine it imputes my idiosyncrasies (we all have some) upon them. Generally speaking, the Internet is a terrible place to witness. Yet our people do it all the time. A brother will say online: \"Do you wonder about the origin of the cross?\" The answer is NO! Secular people do not care, and religious people do not wonder. The only people who come along, 99 times out of 100, are ideologues who live to argue.\n\nOnce before in my memory have all Witnesses been invited to write officials of a nation's government over persecution. This was during Malawi's period of intense persecution that saw thousands of Witness homes and places of business torched, members robbed, beaten, raped, and in some cases, killed. The period is best captured by Enelesi Mzanga, an active Witness throughout that time, the wife of a circuit overseer and a mother of nine, who experienced all of it. Her life account can be found in print and online.17 The ban on Jehovah's Witnesses in Malawi lasted for 26 years (1967–1993), the identical length of time that Witnesses operated legally in Russia (1991–2017).\n\nTime Magazine then wrote: \"By all accounts, a virtual pogrom is in progress against the 22,000 Jehovah's Witnesses in the African nation of Malawi.\" The article even supplied evidence that with the Witnesses' chief opponent, it was personal: Malawi President-for-Life Dr. H. Kamuzu Banda, an elder in that country's Presbyterian Church of Central Africa, \"has become increasingly angered by the 'devil's Witnesses,' their unwillingness to join his ruling Congress Party, their refusal to take loyalty oaths, and their exclusivist claims to religious truth.\"18\n\nDespite Time's report, three years later the World Council of Churches still wasn't sure that there was anything to it, and if there was, it was probably the Witnesses own fault. An African churchman of the Council, quoted in the New York Times,19 stated that \"there has been a problem regarding Jehovah's Witnesses in many African countries. There are accusations and counteraccusations of one kind or another that come out of unsettled situations.\" Matters were obscure, his peers opined, and they didn't appear to be in any hurry to figure it out. Why—\"according to some sources, they were accused of collaborating with antirevolutionary forces.\" Is not _any_ person is a source? The situation may have been \"obscure\" and \"confusing\" to the churchman, but it certainly wasn't to Enelesi Mzanga. Jehovah's Witnesses neither salute flags or pledge allegiance to any government on the ground, and from this circumstance are realized many opportunities to make trouble for them.\n\n## Video Vignettes Taylor-made for Current Persecution in Russia—February 24\n\nThe grandparents and great grandparents of many Witnesses in Russia will identify with the Apostle John, writer of the Book of Revelation, the book that concludes the Bible. He wrote it while exiled for his faith on the island of Patmos. It was an exile that serves to foreshadow that of the Russian Witnesses into Siberia, absent only the snow. It was for the same reason. The apostle's predicament came about \"because I proclaimed God's word and gave testimony to Jesus.\" One way to handle that problem is to pack the perpetrator off to Patmos or Siberia.20\n\nIn late-night raids, with only minutes to grab whatever they could carry, Witnesses were rounded up, herded into boxcars, and shipped into exiles that were meant to be long. Those who were missed in 1949 were rounded up two years later. For many, Siberia would become their permanent home, because when their sentences had been served many would choose to remain where they had set down roots.21\n\nVideo vignettes first shown at the 2016 worldwide Regional Conventions, and later on JW Broadcasting, seem tailor-made for the persecution that is building in Russia. The extreme situations depicted in the videos are not now reality, but they have been reality in prior Soviet times and they show signs of becoming so again. Russian Witnesses, and Witnesses everywhere, are being fortified with spiritual \"food at the proper time.\" If shaming does any good, the current authorities are being shamed before the world for backing or permitting what transpires. The clips have been nicknamed \"the bunker videos\" of the great tribulation,22 and they climax with police discovering the basement hideout into which a small Christian group has retreated. All that remains is to supply participants with Russian accents.\n\nThey actually do have Russian accents in another series of clips that deal specifically with persecution: 1) The friends jump when there is pounding at the door, only to find that, this time, it is not the police, 2) Sergei arrives home to find the police have beaten up his father, and he is threatened himself. 3) Sergei is sentenced to five years in prison, which he can avoid if he renounces his faith. These are all themes that have played out in various places at various times among Jehovah's people. Alone of those groups incarcerated during the Nazi Germany reign, Jehovah's Witnesses were given opportunity to write their ticket out if they would but abandon their worship.23 Only a handful complied. In faint echo, after the ban in Russia imposed by their Supreme Court, there were reports of Witnesses being exempted from military service only on condition that they discontinue their religion. When the Military Commissioner of Khabarovsk was asked how he would handle such a problem, he answered: \"There is no sect—there are no problems! If a conscript declares his desire to perform alternative service, citing his membership in this organization that is forbidden in Russia, we will not even consider such a request.\"24\n\nThese video vignettes are a new touch in Regional Convention programming, once restricted to talks supplemented by interviews or enacted demonstrations. Now it is talks supplemented by sequential videos. Presently it dawns upon one that the _videos_ are the main story and the _talks_ are supplemental. Let no one say that Jehovah's Witnesses are behind the curve in their use of technology.\n\n## An Invitation to Write\n\nThe United Nations doesn't buy the contention that Jehovah's Witnesses are extremist. Only a day before the April 5th hearing began, it declared: \"The use of counter-extremism legislation in this way to confine freedom of opinion, including religious belief, expression and association to that which is state-approved is unlawful and dangerous, and signals a dark future for all religious freedom in Russia,\" and thereby expressed hope Russia would drop its prosecution of the religious organization.25 \"The fate of the Jehovah's Witnesses is the fate of any religious group that does not pledge its allegiance to the Russian government,\" Kristina Arriaga de Bucholz, a U.S. commissioner for International Religious Freedom, says.26 \"April 5 will definitely mark a new chapter of religious persecution in post-Soviet Russia.\"27\n\nRoman Lunkin, a human rights fellow at the Wilson Center and an expert on church-state relations in Russia, doesn't buy the argument that Jehovah's Witnesses are extremist, either. The government is just cozying up to the Russian Orthodox Church, he says. Though many groups are feeling the heat, he identifies another reason that Jehovah's Witnesses are the actual target. Other minority Christian groups in Russia, such as the evangelicals, have not yet faced the same level of scrutiny. It is impossible to accuse evangelicals of extremist activity because their literature and Bible translation matches that of the Russian Orthodox Church...Evangelicals also have closer relationships with government officials, Lunkin says.28\n\n\"I cannot imagine that anyone really thinks they are a threat,\" said Alexander Verkhovsky, director of the SOVA Center for Information and Analysis, which monitors extremism in Russia. \"But they are seen as a good target. They are pacifists, so they cannot be radicalized, no matter what you do to them. They can be used to send a message.\" Andre Sivak, a Witness who lost his job as a teacher, tell what it feels like to be so targeted. Security officials secretly filmed his local meeting and accused him of \"inciting hatred and disparaging the human dignity of citizens.\" It's a Bible study meeting. Anyone who has ever attended a meeting of Jehovah's Witnesses knows that. \"They say I am a terrorist,\" he said. \"But all I ever wanted to do was to get people to pay attention to the Bible.\"29\n\n\"Anyone who would have our publications could be criminalized. It is of great concern,\" says David Semonian, Jehovah's Witness spokesperson. \"The constitution guarantees freedom of worship, and that is all we are asking, to have the same rights as other religious groups have so we can go about our ministry in a peaceful way.\" To that end, Jehovah's Witness leadership reached out to the U.S. State Department's Office of International Religious Freedom, the U.S. Commission on International Religious Freedom, and the U.S. Helsinki Commission for aid. \"We will do everything within our legal means to have the judgment reversed,\" Semonian says. \"Jehovah's Witnesses are known worldwide for our peaceful activities, and under no circumstances would we ever resort to violence or any other activity that could be misunderstood or considered extremist.\"30\n\nTime Magazine also confirmed: \"Jehovah's Witness leaders have also asked their eight million members worldwide to write letters to Russia officials, including President Vladimir Putin and Prime Minister Dmitry Medvedev, to ask them to intervene. Instructions tell writers to be candid but respectful, and to mention how the faith has benefited their families. Keep in mind that 'a mild answer turns away rage,' and 'a gentle tongue can break a bone,' the instructions say, quoting the Biblical Book of Proverbs.\"\n\nThat invitation came on March 21st via post on JW.org.31 \"Threatened with an imminent ban on their worship in Russia, Jehovah's Witnesses are responding with a direct appeal to Kremlin and Supreme Court officials for relief through a global letter-writing campaign. The Governing Body of Jehovah's Witnesses is inviting the over 8,000,000 Witnesses worldwide to participate,\" it read. More words of Mr. Semonian were included: \"Reading the Bible, singing, and praying with fellow worshippers is clearly not criminal,\" he adds. \"We hope that our global letter-writing campaign will motivate Russian officials to stop this unjustifiable action against our fellow worshippers.\"\n\nSix officials were listed to whom one might write, and their addresses were supplied. Additional instructions were included. It was okay to send more than one letter to the same official. It was okay to use a business letterhead, if you had one. Pay attention to grammar and spelling. Neatness counts. No need to have it translated into Russian. Sign it. Do not include literature. Don't email. Use sufficient postage. (In the U.S, that meant the Global Stamp. It cost a dollar, is round, and features a picture of the moon, perhaps symbolic of Jehovah's Witnesses shooting for the moon. Many Post Offices ran out of the stamp.) A page will do, no more. Don't send copies to the branch. Don't mention by name any Witnesses in Russia. Be candid but respectful. Pray about it.\n\n## Tell Them Something They Don't Know—March 23\n\nWhen you are writing to the Russians about their proposal to ban Jehovah's Witnesses, there may be a temptation to speak of legal and constitutional issues, since their recent conduct flies in the face of most of them. There may be temptation to observe that ISIS or the Taliban provides the template of what extremism is. Surely Russian leaders know what their own constitution says and for whatever reason, they are choosing to ignore it.\n\nTell them something they don't know. Tell them about eight million people, from every nation, who don't know their Russian brothers personally, but care about them anyway. Let them ponder the significance of what if the whole world was like that. When they look to the outside world of international relations, all they see is bickering, belligerence and bellyaching. Let them see another world.\n\nConvey that we are ordinary, decent people, the sort who appreciate government's role to preserve social order and improve the moral fabric of persons within its borders, and that we everywhere cooperate with governments as they pursue such goals. I like the suggestion at JW.org to relate some practical way in which Bible truth has helped us personally. Imagine! An invitation from Bethel to write to high Russian officials about the proposed ban on Jehovah's Witnesses. It is a fine way for individual Christians, most of whom feel quite helpless, to \"bring their gift to the altar.\"32\n\n\"I am speaking words of truth and reason\" said the apostle Paul before King Agrippa. \"The king knows about these matters and to him I speak boldly, for I cannot believe that [any] of this has escaped his notice; this was not done in a corner.\" Paul pressed: \"King Agrippa, do you believe the prophets? I know you believe.\" Then Agrippa said to Paul, \"You will soon persuade me to play the Christian.\" Paul replied, \"I would pray to God that sooner or later not only you but all who listen to me today might become as I am except for these chains.\"33 The chains were a downer. There is no nice way to spin that. Best to acknowledge it and move on, for such reversals of what should be are common in life.\n\nJust as Paul said to Agrippa, the persecution of Witnesses in Russia has also not been done in a corner. The Witness central organization has not allowed that to happen. Not only does it adroitly coordinate a letter-writing campaign, stimulating front page coverage from the New York Times and Time Magazine on \"Day of Delivery,\" but it has succeeded in strengthening an already unified people. All they had to do at Bethel is to invite once for individual Witnesses to write—they did nothing else—and the response is a deluge. Clearly, organization is not an impotent thing. It serves here as a magnifying lens for Christianity, and for this reason some attack it.\n\nIt makes the Russian government uncomfortable that Witnesses can be mobilized through an agency that lies outside national borders. They ought not be uncomfortable, for the Witness agency goes out of its way to make clear it poses no threat to it, nor any other government. Still, with a century of East/West distrust as a backdrop, it is very hard to convince them of that. If only world leaders would stop squabbling! Look, Jehovah's Witnesses in the United States rely upon the Bible. They do not rely upon Western media for their worldview.\n\nThe best letters I have seen are from children, who have a knack for going straight to the heart. Putin is tired of being lectured about human rights. That issue, like all others, comes laden with political overtones. Yet he is in danger of being made to look very foolish due to the machinations of the main religious body. Witnesses would spare him. They do not share the common Western sentiment of maligning him. Nor is he their buddy. He is the leader of another form of government, that is all. All human governments will drop the ball—this fact explains why many of Jehovah's Witnesses become Jehovah's Witnesses in the first place. Usually it is a bowling ball that they drop, and as people ponder the vulnerability of their right or left feet, thus is decided their politics. But Witnesses strive not to bring such matters into the congregation, thus disturbing its peace. They opt instead to focus on the fact that human governments of all stripes will drop the ball, unlike God's kingdom, which does not.\n\n## What sort of letters have emerged from the campaign?\n\nMarch 23, 2017\n\nDear Mr. Chairman:\n\nForgive this intrusion into your affairs. I am writing to ask you to reconsider facts in view of the upcoming Supreme Court consideration to ban Jehovah's Witnesses. I am an American JW and have been so for 35+ years.\n\nWe are a community of eight million who are deeply concerned about the welfare of our Russian brothers and sisters, though we have not met them. True Christians are united. If you know one, you know them all. I implore you to take a good look at their organization before acting. Do not let others decide for you, for they would have Russia look like fools on the world stage. Nobody can visit JW.org and think for one moment that it is extremist.\n\nJehovah's Witnesses are ordinary, decent people, the sort who appreciate government's role to preserve social order and improve the moral fabric of persons within its borders, and we everywhere cooperate with governments as they pursue such goals. We make it our aim to live quietly and to be a force for good in the communities in which we reside.\n\nThis is an opportunity for the leaders of Russia to stand up in behalf of the little people who comprise most of any country's citizens. We pray that you will rise to this occasion. If any of our people should appear tactless, kindly forgive them for that. We are not accustomed to addressing high officials.\n\nSincerely,\n\nJohn Q. Witness [actual name withheld]\n\n###\n\nMarch 23, 2017\n\nDear Mr. Minister:\n\nI am writing with regard to the future of Jehovah's Witnesses in Russia. I am a Witness in the United States, a member of an international community of 8 million persons who deeply care for each other.\n\nIn the Bible I have found answers to age-old questions such as: \"why do we grow old and die?\" and \"why does God permit suffering?\" We value the answers to those questions, for everyone has such questions. It accounts for our public ministry—if you know something valuable, you don't just sit on it. Sure, it's possible to travel through life without a clue to these answers, but why would anyone choose to do it? They add meaning to life.\n\nWe add only good to the Russian (or any) people, and not bad. We ask that when the time comes to render judgment upon lowly people whose only desire is to serve God, you strike a blow for fairness.\n\nSincerely,\n\nJames Q. Witness\n\n###\n\nMarch 23, 2017\n\nDear Mr. Prime Minister:\n\nI am writing with regard to the future of Jehovah's Witnesses in Russia. I am a Witness in the United States, a member of an international community of 8 million persons who deeply care for each other.\n\nIf need be, Russian Witnesses will follow the course of first-century Christians. They will, like those the apostle Paul wrote of at Hebrews 10:36, allow themselves to be tried by \"mockings,\" by \"beatings,\" by \"prisons,\" before a world [that] \"was not worthy of them.\" The practice of Christianity is that important to them.\n\nNot every last one of them will do this, of course. But the vast majority of them will. It has played out many times before in many parts of the world. \"If the world hates you, you know that it has hated me before it hated you,\" says the Bible at John 15:18. Christians worldwide don't like persecution one bit. But they expect it because Christ told them to. Sometimes it even adds members to the faith, as some will realize Christians are told to expect persecution.\n\nWhy should this be? I would plead for them. Jehovah's Witnesses everywhere are decent, law-abiding people. They are not ones who meddle in government affairs. Instead, they are of strong moral character and thereby assist any government in encouraging good qualities in its people.\n\nThe Bible says that true Christianity to be \"spoken against everywhere,\" as states Acts 28:22. However, also depend upon the supposed reasons to evaporate as frivolous upon inspection. I hope you will not be swayed by some giving you bad advice when the future of Russian Witnesses is decided.\n\nSincerely,\n\nPeter Q. Witness\n\n###\n\nMarch 23, 2017\n\nDear Mr. Prosecutor General:\n\nI have been told that Russia is thinking of placing a ban on my brothers and sisters. I hope this will not happen! Jehovah's Witnesses wish to worship freely as Russian law says it will allow their citizens to do.\n\nUnfortunately, there has been a false accusation made stating that Jehovah's witness are extremists. In no way could we be called revolutionists or rebels. For over 40 years I have associated with the Witnesses and have never heard any encouragement to act against any government. To the contrary, we are told to be respectful and obey the laws. We pay our taxes.\n\nMy personal experience speaks to the wonderful way Jehovah's witnesses are taught at their Christian meetings. Before I began to study the Bible, I was a drunkard and lived an immoral life. Now I can say I am a better mother, wife, and citizen. I know I am not alone in my experience.\n\n_On April 5_ th _, 2017, I request that you choose to see the truth about us and allow Jehovah's Witnesses to continue their peaceful meetings and worship. We are eagerly awaiting the time when the world will be united, and we will all be at peace as brothers and sisters._\n\nSincerely,\n\nMary Q. Witness\n\n###\n\nMarch 23, 2017\n\nDear Mr. President:\n\nPlease excuse this direct contact, but the situation is desperate for us and so we feel need to resort to unusual methods.\n\nNews reports here indicate that Russia has its hands full battling protestors. That is the reality in many lands. Please do not devote your energy to harassing the one people who do not protest.\n\nSincerely,\n\nAndrew Q. Witness\n\n## Fear the King do not treat him with disrespect—March 27\n\nIn most countries, if you taunt the king too much, you risk your neck. But if you make it your aim to live quietly, as Jehovah's Witnesses do, won't he leave you alone? Russia has a different form of government. It is nothing more threatening than that. \"What! You think we're so righteous here?\" Trump shot back at his critics.34 If they tolerate interference less than is done here, there is still no reason to think that they are not genuine in their desire to provide stability and good government. At the drop of a pin, Western media and politicians will describe Russian leaders in the most insulting of terms. We need not play that game. Our perception of the king there need not be formed by the king here.\n\nWe should not chuckle at the spectacle of these people not being able to move because we have flooded their mail. If anything, we should apologize for it, with the caveat that when you feel backed into a corner, you resort to unusual tactics. With our very existence under assault, we felt we had to get their attention somehow. Fear the king. Do not treat him with disrespect.\n\nTo the extent that anyone is indiscreet, making taunting comments like: \"You think you're powerful in Russia? Well, wait till you see what OUR God can do,\" it explains why not everyone at Bethel is enthused about social media. I haven't seen many of these remarks, but I have seen some. Hopefully they died on the cutting-room floor and were never sent. If there is one thing we know about Russian police, it is that they like to be respected. And our brothers in Russia _do_ respect them, to be sure. It is just that they respect and fear and love Jehovah more. Before we make any comment, it seems well to ask ourselves whether a Russian brother would say it.\n\nHere, Putin is routinely reviled by politicians and media. Respectful letters from ones who have every reason to gripe may make more impression than we realize. Sometimes a mild tongue can break a bone. Sometimes the heart of a king is like streams of water that God turns this way or that. Sometimes the king is prevailed upon to do things not of his own originality, just like Cyrus of history.35 Other times he just carries on the way he always does. We cannot foreknow. But as our brothers in Russia brace for their greatest trial, Mark Sanderson speaks to them on JW Broadcasting _in Russian_.36 Who knew that he spoke Russian?\n\nThere was a report that our brothers in Russia have withdrawn all appeals and have instead requested the largest possible courtroom for the April 5th hearing, the \"overflow\" courtroom. It is exactly what they would do—play this out before the largest possible audience. It is just how Jehovah is having it play out on the world stage today. The Governing Body invites us to write. Our people respond to such an enthusiastic degree that national Post Offices are being crushed. Of course, this leads to publicity everywhere as to just why that is. I'd be surprised if every Witness in the world does not write to Putin or one of his co-officials. Surely, the world takes notice of a faith in which each member takes such an interest in each other. Putin may just load the letters on supertankers and sink them at sea. Just how _do_ you cope with millions of unexpected letters anyhow? but he cannot fail to know that they exist. It has to register somewhere, somehow.\n\nThose who hate Jehovah's Witnesses join in the fray, writing letters _in support_ of the ban, like the Edomites of old who screamed: \"Lay it bare!\" when Jerusalem was under attack.37 This almost makes it better, for it adds to the tonnage. It is as the Apostle Paul wrote to the Philippians: \"Of course, some preach Christ from envy and rivalry, others from good will. The latter act out of love...the former proclaim Christ out of selfish ambition, not from pure motives, thinking that they will cause me trouble in my imprisonment. What difference does it make, as long as in every way, whether in pretense or in truth, Christ is being proclaimed? And in that I rejoice.\"38 Let everyone take their place on the world stage. Let the people firmly and publicly separate themselves into the sheep or goat column. Perhaps God is luring them all, as with hooks in their jaws.\n\nMeanwhile, note how our people conduct themselves. Note how extraordinarily respectful they are, as is evident on JW Broadcasting, toward government authorities. Note the September 2016 Study Edition Watchtower article, \"Defending the Good News\" before courts, which is being used today as a template. Note how the Witnesses' respect for authority is so contrary to what anyone would expect that it only adds to the witness. Let every person in the world become aware and take a stand on this issue. If it is to be, let Russian officials look themselves in the mirror and publicly declare: \"I believe, what with all the villains and scoundrels on the loose today in our country and world, that taking out Jehovah's Witnesses is the most important thing we can do.\"\n\nThe campaign may fail in its goal of swaying the minds of Russian officials. But it will not fall short in its goal of giving a massive witness. It will not fall short in stepping up the preaching work worldwide, as it presents fresh evidence that \"the time is running out.\" It will not fall short in giving our Russian brothers tremendous reinforcement. For the rest of their lives, persons will approach them and say: \"You crushed our Post Office. Just what kind of people are you, anyway?\"\n\nThe trick will be to generate such worldwide publicity—so as to make every person aware—that for Putin to snuff out Jehovah's Witnesses would be comparable to his strangling a cat on live TV. He may decide not to do it. He wants to be regarded as wise, as firm where necessary, but certainly not as an unhinged despot. To be sure, he plays hardball when he has to, but he may come to realize that here he does not have to. Due to a massive campaign of publicity, everyone except the most disconnected should become aware of the situation soon to be decided by him. Will he want to be an international pariah? All our letters will be respectful, except for some seeded in by religious enemies eager for the ban to proceed, in sharp contrast to how he is usually portrayed in the West.\n\nHe may get fed up, not with us, but with the national Church that is trying to feed him the line that JW.org is extremist, doing so for the purpose of taking out the competition. He may, on a night that he cannot sleep, become like King Ahasuerus of long ago,39 peruse JW.org (surely _he's_ allowed to see it), recognize that it plainly is benign, as every other nation in the world recognizes that it is, and come to resent the national Church that would have him look like a total donkey on the world stage. He may come to realize that, what with all the very real concerns facing his country, Jehovah's Witnesses are not one of them.\n\n## I apologize to Mr. Putin—April 3\n\nWhen Putin opens my letter, he will be disheartened. He will see several paragraphs. He will want with all his heart to read it, but he has several million other letters to get through. He will toss the letter.\n\nHe will then open the next letter and discover, as he suspected from the envelope, that it is from a child. It includes drawings, one of a sad little girl because Putin is being mean to her nice friends, and one from a happy little girl, because he has had a change of heart. Putin will smile faintly, for everyone loves children. He will put this letter aside. Possibly he will show it to his grandchildren someday.\n\nHe will open the next letter. It will also be from me—not the same letter, but one worded and reasoned anew. He will roll his eyes. \"Another letter from that windbag Harley,\" he will mutter, and toss it in the trash.\n\nHow many letters will he receive? Eight million, at a minimum, as every Witness in the world will write him. They were invited just once. They all thought it a good idea. Putin has never seen anything like it and he will not forget it. It will not necessarily melt his heart. It may make him mad.40 He has a country to run. He has a world infested with scoundrels he must stay abreast of, and one of them succeeded in taking out his favorite limousine driver, a no-doubt decent man who I would have hung out with, had I visited, before any government official. He may not like it that Jehovah's Witnesses try to paralyze him and his Kremlin with paper, like the Dr. Seuss king mired in oobleck.41 Perhaps he will ship all letters to the North Pole, like ones to Santa Claus.\n\nI apologize to him. I really do. Unfortunately, the well-being of my brothers is at stake, and we feel we must get his attention somehow. He is being given bad advice by religionists. If he takes it, he will look like an utter fool before the world, because nobody can read JW materials, online or in print, and think them extremist. Perhaps he should vent his anger at those who would maneuver him into such a ridiculous position.\n\nMost likely, the eight million is just for starters. Six addresses are listed at JW.org. Many Witnesses will send their same letter to all six, bringing the total to—say, 30 million. Yuri will not be jealous that Dmitry received the same letter as he. Some, comfortable in writing, will compose several letters and send each to all six. Make that 50 million. Then there will be non-Witness human rights people. These will write in numbers of far less percentage, but there are far more of them. There will also be some who don't like Jehovah's Witnesses and who will write to support the ban, not to mention some virulent opposers who will chide him for being so half-hearted. Will that bring the total to 60 million? More? Your guess is as good as mine.\n\nWill the letters from opposers fool him? I doubt it. He will say: \"Look, I can see why Harley would write me, he and all his 8 million chums, but what about this loser? Is he pretending he is somehow my friend who would warn me of a great danger? Is he not part of the general world who was last week (in the United States) called me a 'thug and a murderer?'\"42\n\nLet us now consider how Vladimir Putin will shake in his boots as he reads a letter on the business stationary of Bob's Cleaning Service. Witnesses were invited to use their business letterhead if they had such, and not all Witness-owned businesses will knock your socks off. There are elements of comedy in everything, and Christians are a spectacle to the world. The Christian drama is the one to watch. Who knows? Maybe Bob will remind Putin of his chauffer pal and thereby carry the day. Maybe an aide will tell him of some impending crisis that requires his immediate attention. \"Handle it, will you?\" Putin will respond, as he wonders what would the world be like if everyone behaved like Bob, transcending national, racial, and social divisions to show loving concern for their spiritual brothers.\n\n## Tell the House Church to Take a Hike—April 7\n\nThe American popular media, almost to a person, opposed the election of President Trump. Throughout 2017, they pushed the narrative that Russia had meddled in the American election and that Trump was a Russian stooge. But in early April, Trump became convinced that Russian ally Syria had used chemical weapons within its borders. He ordered a missile strike in retribution.43 American pundits recalibrated. Russian pundits were livid. Perhaps the country they regarded as the perennial aggressor was fomenting another war, as it had (in their eyes) 100 years ago _to the day_ with World War I.\n\nRussian media source RT.com recounted how Woodrow Wilson, the world's \"first globalist,\" propelled the U.S. into that war, reversing entirely his campaign promise to keep the country out of it. When enthusiasm for the nascent entry seemed less than he had anticipated, he came to favor mandatory conscription and laws that would penalize anyone speaking ill of the war effort. Thus was born the Espionage Act of June 1917 and the Sedition Act of May 1918.44\n\nThe Espionage Act was famously used against Jehovah's Witnesses in 1918, sending leaders to Federal prison. Their convictions were overturned nine months later. Today, Russia's own Extremism Law threatens to do the same for its counterparts on the other side of the world. Okay, I know it's naive, and the following is tongue-in-cheek, but could this possibly play out? Might Putin possibly say: \"Yesterday, it is St. Petersburg!45 Now it is Syria! Next it will be North Korea! What a crazy world! What do I care if the Jehovahs want to preach? Get this case out of my hair! I've got things to do! Tell the House Church to take a hike!\"\n\n***~~~***\n\nNow the priests, the prophets, and all the people heard Jeremiah speaking these words in the house of the LORD. When Jeremiah finished speaking all that the LORD commanded him to speak to all the people, then the priests, the prophets, and all the people laid hold of him, crying, \"You must die!\"\n\n... _The priests and prophets said to the princes and to all the people, \"Sentence this man to death! He has prophesied against this city! You heard it with your own ears.\"_\n\n... _Then the princes and all the people said to the priests and the prophets, \"This man does not deserve a death sentence; it is in the name of the LORD, our God, that he speaks to us.\"_ 46\n\nIt is always this way. The princes have no problem with it. It is the priests and the prophets that oppose religious truth. The very ones who you think would be in harmony with it are on the other side. Will it turn out that way in Russia today?\n\nIt is hard to imagine that traffic to the Witness website will not increase, perhaps even explode. In view of the publicity, people will want to see if it is truly extremist. This will be especially true with those we find difficult to reach: the newsworthy and well-connected. What will be the result when they discover that it is not extremist at all? Perhaps _that_ is the greatest contribution our Russian brothers make to Jehovah's service. The decision itself may not go in our favor. Russian Witnesses may once again become like the Christians of early times who walked about under duress, \"and the world was not worthy of them.\"47 It happens with good precedent in a world unfriendly to Christians. Jesus was not summoned before Pilate to receive a pat on the back, was he? It was _more_ than a pat on the back he received. Pilate saw through the scheme in a heartbeat. He tried to free Jesus. But he had a province to run. In the end, he proved unable to withstand the clamor of that day's religious leaders desperate to preserve their place and the status quo.48\n\nThe non-Orthodox religious world follows this case closely, for fear they will be next. Many of them are cozier with the politicians, as Lunkin noted,49 and their literature isn't necessarily that different from that of the Orthodox Church, so it may take a while, but they fear their time may yet come. After all, if you are going to the Baptist church, then you are necessarily not going to the Orthodox one. As is not infrequent, they are letting Jehovah's Witnesses do their heavy lifting for them. They hold back. What support they offer is tepid, because Jehovah's Witnesses are a cult that do not believe in the Trinity. If we win, they will latch on for the ride. Will they be grateful? It's unlikely. We will continue to be portrayed as a cult that fully deserves whatever bad comes upon it.\n\n***~~~***\n\n\" _But when Gallio was proconsul of Achaia, the Jews rose up together against Paul and brought him to the tribunal, saying, 'This man is inducing people to worship God contrary to the law.' When Paul was about to reply, Gallio spoke to the Jews, 'If it were a matter of some crime or malicious fraud, I should with reason hear the complaint of you Jews; but since it is a question of arguments over doctrine and titles and your own law, see to it yourselves. I do not wish to be a judge of such matters.' And he drove them away from the tribunal. They all seized Sosthenes, the synagogue official, and beat him in full view of the tribunal. But none of this was of concern to Gallio.\"_ 50\n\nGallio saw that what was before him was a religious dispute. Why should he care about it? He had an empire to run. He \"drove them away.\" Despairing of his waning attention, they beat the daylights out of someone right under his nose. But their fifteen minutes of fame had expired. The Roman official had moved on to other things, perhaps finishing his newspaper, rustling the pages to shoo the agitators away. What of Putin when the Church and its friends accuse Jehovah's Witnesses? Might he also be like Gallio?\n\n***~~~***\n\nEleven days after the trial, which Jehovah's Witnesses lost,51 a Russian language site posted a summary set to musical background. It should not be missed. What follows is an English translation of the subtitles displayed onscreen:52\n\nSupreme Court of the RF (Russian Federation)\n\nSix days of court hearings\n\nMinistry of Justice demands the banning of Jehovah's Witnesses\n\nYaroslav Sivulsky: member of the Governing Committee of the Administrative Center of Jehovah's Witnesses in Russia: \"When the court case began, the judge was denying our petitions one after the other, it seemed that, that was it, the issue had already been decided beforehand.\"\n\nJudge Yuri Ivanenko: \"The Court, having listened to the opinion of the persons taking part in the case, of the representatives, has decided to... reject, reject, reject... [the rest is not clear, maybe 'persons and evidence' [DM]\"\n\nBrother Sivulsky: \"On the whole, about 17 petitions were denied and only 1 granted by the Court. We did not see any evidence supporting the claim of the Ministry of Justice. To clarifying questions, often the representative of the Ministry of Justice said: 'I am not aware of... I don't know...'\"\n\nJudge Yuri Ivanenko: \"You prepared for this court case.\"\n\nJustice representative Svetlana Borisova: \"Yes.\"\n\nJudge: \"So certainly, you know what remaining danger we are talking about...\"\n\nBorisova: \"It is hard for me to answer now.\"\n\nLawyer Viktor Zhenkov: \"Tell me, have there been specified cases of disturbance of public order by Jehovah's Witnesses under the influence of the reading of Jehovah's Witness literature? Do you have such facts?\"\n\nBorisova: \"No I don't have such facts.\"\n\nLawyer Anton Omelchenko: \"Please tell me which local religious organization spent what sums of money and on what extremist activity.\"\n\nBorisova: \"We do not audit local religious organizations.\"\n\nOmelchenko: \"That is, you don't have any such information; have I understood you correctly?\"\n\nBorisova: \"No.\"\n\nOmelchenko: \"Thank you.\"\n\n_BANNERS_ _:_\n\n8 witnesses were called\n\nof whom 4 were on the side of the Ministry of Justice.\n\nBrother Sivulsky: \"Although the witnesses on the side of the Ministry of Justice tried to damage the reputation of Jehovah's Witnesses, they could not present one single fact supporting extremist activity on the part of Jehovah's Witnesses.\"\n\nJudge Ivanenko: \"In the Supreme Court of the Russian Federation it has been decided, in the matter of the claim of the member of the Ministry of Justice, to uphold it...\"\n\n_BANNER_ _:_\n\nThe very same day, unknown persons threw stones at a religious building [Assembly Hall in St-Petersburg].\n\nLegal expert Maksim Novakov: \"From this status of \"extremists\" will flow a general application of violence against Jehovah's Witnesses.\"\n\n_BANNER:_ _The activity of the Administrative Centre is BANNED._\n\nBrother Sivulsky: \"Never before have the press, social workers, people in general, been so interested in Jehovah's Witnesses to this extent.\"\n\n_BANNER:_ _The verdict of the Court will be appealed._\n\nJudge Ivanenko: The court session is closed.\n\n***~~~***\n\nIt was sealed on April 20th what Jesus had said at John 15:20: \"No slave is greater than his master. If they persecuted me, they will also persecute you.\" \"We know that this sect is denounced everywhere,\" said the Jewish leaders to the apostle Paul.53 _Including here_ , says Russia.\n\nEarly indications that the trial would be little more than a sham to rubberstamp a decision already made were recounted by Mark Sanderson, a Governing Body member, who was present throughout. Eighteen of the defense team's nineteen motions were promptly denied, among them one to admit videotaped evidence clearing showing police planting banned literature. That motion was denied. Every other interested party in the world had already seen it on JW.org; the only ones who refused to see were the ones who had a moral obligation to do so. Embassy officials of other nations saw it, too, and they were surely dismayed to see it barred as evidence. Their turn was to come, as the Court went on to refuse to hear their own testimony regarding the record of Jehovah's Witnesses in their respective countries.\n\nIt is just like Jehovah's Witnesses to look for the silver lining in the cloud. They observed on their web broadcast that six of their people had provided clear, cogent testimony reflecting the true nature of their faith's worship and work. They even declared a victory of sorts, based upon a passage in Luke, for events certainly had worked out in the following way: \"Before all this happens, however, they will seize and persecute you, they will hand you over to the synagogues and to prisons, and they will have you led before kings and governors because of my name. It will lead to your giving testimony.\"54\n\nToward the end of the trial, Witness attorneys were able to remind the Court that it was not really they before the Russian authorities. Rather, it was everyone, defense and prosecution alike, arguing before the Supreme Court of the universe. Also included in the broadcast were Russian brothers who gave assurance of their intentions to serve Jehovah steadfastly regardless of their new circumstances, and to do it with the Christian trademark of not returning evil for evil.55\n\n[Moved by this broadcast, ISIS World Headquarters rehearsed their own special broadcast to be made in the event that they, too, should ever get into hot water with the Russians. They, too, tried to line up interviewees to upbuild their adherents. They were thwarted in this, however, because any person that stepped forward was instantly blown full of holes by heavily armed ISIS members. This happened because ISIS is an extremist group.] (bracketed material concocted by author for purposes of comparison.)\n\nOn day two of the trial, the Russian Presiding Judge became surprisingly active, reported Sanderson. He questioned closely the Ministry of Justice on just what might happen if Russian Witnesses were to continue reading their extremist publications. Virtually everything Jehovah's Witnesses publishes is on the government's list of extremism literature. The Ministry of Justice assured him that there could be dire consequences. What of the rights of 175,000 Russian citizens? the judge wanted to know. It was not the only time he was to do his job. On Day 5, he questioned the Ministry of Justice as to the legal basis for shutting down Jehovah's Witnesses and confiscating their property. The Ministry of Justice declined to identify one. Other times, too, it was observed that he was \"surprisingly\" impartial. He peppered the prosecution with questions that they seemed totally unprepared for. Possibly, they had imagined an unchallenged cakewalk.\n\nRussian brothers were not surprised at the outcome. They had never expected to win. In the West, people are accustomed to judges acting independently of the executive branch. In Russia, it is not a foregone conclusion. Nor are the Witnesses there unaccustomed to dealing with police harassment, which they expect to intensify. Several said that the judge appeared sad as he granted the Ministry of Justice's petition to ban Jehovah's Witnesses, after reviewing 43 volumes of submitted evidence in a single hour. He knew what he had to do. But possibly he was a man with a conscience. Possibly he did not want to, even for a single hour, be chief spokesperson for the Devil.\n\nStill, he did a lot. He was very bold. Not many are prepared for their 15 minutes of fame. Even Peter caved, three times denying Christ. By asking pointed questions throughout the trial, which the Ministry of Justice seem totally blindsided by, he exposed them as not having a legal leg to stand on. In this, he aids future appeals as well as present worldwide review. He did a lot, even if he ultimately declined to throw himself under the bus. Not many persons would. This writer will chalk him up as a supportive figure, even if flawed—for who is not flawed?\n\nThroughout history, during the repressive days of countries ranging in government from authoritarian to liberal, Jehovah's Witnesses have blanketed areas with preaching campaigns that were thorough and quick, sometimes happening overnight. Suppose that the Russian Witnesses were suddenly to intensify their service to God? Either separately or on cue? There are 175,000 of them, after all, and for the time being, they have the sympathy of the world behind them, a circumstance that is not that common.\n\nIt is not for others to say what they will do. It is their neck on the line, not ours. But since they have been dealing with police harassment for some time, and the legal defeat does not surprise them, they fully expect opposition to intensify _._ \"We may as well supply a reason for it to intensify,\" perhaps they will say. In one way or the other, they will give an answer not unlike that given to the Jewish high court leaders of long ago: \"Whether it is right in the sight of God for us to obey you rather than God, you be the judges. It is impossible for us not to speak about what we have seen and heard.\" It is not that they would not. It is that they _could_ not; it was \" _impossible_.\" It would have been like lighting a lamp and putting it under a basket. Who would do such a thing? Will they be intimidated that they are just regular folk standing in the face of ones more \"awesome\"? If anything, they will draw power that they are in good company. They are like Peter and John, uneducated, ordinary men, who confounded the ones educated and extraordinary of their time.56\n\n\"The king knows about these matters and to him I speak boldly, for I cannot believe that [any] of this has escaped his notice; this was not done in a corner,\" said the apostle Paul before Festus and Agrippa. So it is with the Russian ban on religion. It has not been done in a corner. The Governing Body did not permit it to be done that way. Nobody with a finger on the pulse of events could have failed to have heard about this.57 The entire affair, which Russian Witnesses, if not the non-Russian ones, always thought was a long shot, was afforded maximum publicity. Let people declare themselves on one side or the other with Christianity. All know the identity of those who are truly following Christ's command to \"lay down the sword.\" All know the identity of those who are truly proclaiming \"this gospel [good news] of the kingdom\" and striving to live by its requirements even today.\n\nA Witness worried online that other nations, far from being outraged, might take Russian events as a template for banning Witnesses in their country, too. If it should happen, let it happen with maximum publicity, as does the Russian reality. How literally is the second Psalm to be fulfilled, that the \"kings on earth rise up and princes plot together against the LORD and against his anointed one?\"58 Let them all take their stand publicly if it is to be. Let it become clear before all who is loyal before God and who would fight against him. At some point the experiment of human self-rule must end. Has it not proven itself an obscene failure?\n\nThe Witness organization gives this campaign maximum exposure. Our Russian brothers will forever know that their courageous stand, which they are prepared to continue, spurs honest, hungry and humble persons to look into the faith now on display via Internet and literature in the streets, and heretofore uninterested persons check to see if it is truly extremist. When they see that it is not, how will they respond to that?\n\nWill Jehovah's Witnesses now fold in Russia, as some have predicted and as their enemies have hoped? Time will tell. It may turn out instead that they will be as a hurricane gathering strength over warm waters, for the words of Peter will not be lost upon them: \"For whenever anyone bears the pain of unjust suffering because of consciousness of God, that is a grace... for to this you have been called, because Christ also suffered.\"59 The invitation to imitate Jesus is impossible to turn down. They will also call to mind Jesus words: \"But the one who perseveres to the end will be saved.\"60\n\nChapter 2 endnotes\n\nReturn to Table of Contents\n\n# Chapter 3 – Aftermath\n\nThe day after the Supreme Court decision, Steve Inskeep of National Public Radio interviewed Andrew Roth, a Washington Post correspondent. He expressed bewilderment that Jehovah's Witnesses should be placed in the same category as ISIS.1 The latter related the inside joke that Witnesses are now the most pacifist extremists in Russia.\n\nProbing, Inskeep repeated that Jehovah's Witnesses are indeed known for pacifism. They are apolitical. They knock on doors, pass out pamphlets, and seek converts. \"You may dislike them, but they don't seem that threatening.\" He asks how many there are in Russia, and Roth answered that they grew very quickly after the fall of Communism. That growth has unnerved the Russian Orthodox Church and even the government itself, which is \"really trying to clamp down and to sort of recreate an idea of what official religion is in Russia...there's an important symbiosis between religion and the political power in the country. And so the Orthodox Church and the Kremlin have walked in lockstep. And I think it's fair to see that this crackdown is in some ways sort of influenced—growing influence of Orthodox Christianity and a view of Christianity that can support the Kremlin's aim.\"\n\n## A segment of an article considered at Witness meetings worldwide the week of May 15, 2017 follows\n\n\" _Like his father, Asa, Jehoshaphat maintained his devotion to God even when threatened by an overwhelming enemy force. (Read 2 Chronicles 20:2-4.) Jehoshaphat did become afraid! Yet, \"he resolved to search for Jehovah.\" In prayer, he humbly admitted that his people were \"powerless before this large crowd\" and that he and his people did not know what to do. He fully relied on Jehovah, saying: \"Our eyes are toward you.\"—2 Chron. 20:12. Sometimes we, like Jehoshaphat, may not know what to do, even being afraid. (2 Cor. 4:8, 9) But remember that Jehoshaphat acknowledged in a public prayer how weak he and his people felt. (2 Chron. 20:5) Those who take the spiritual lead in the family can imitate Jehoshaphat by turning to Jehovah for guidance and strength to cope with the problem they face. Do not feel ashamed to let your family hear such supplications. They will sense your trust in Jehovah. God helped Jehoshaphat, and he will also help you.\"_ 2\n\n***~~~***\n\n\"What Do the Witnesses of Jehovah Have in St. Petersburg?\" asked a May 5th post of MRKU (St. Petersburg).3 The article began: \"The Supreme Court in fact recognized that Jehovah's Witnesses were extremist. Now they are obliged to stop work immediately, which they already did. Further, apparently, for their property will come the new owners. And the property of these believers is good, especially in Petersburg.\" Yes, the property of these believers is very good. They made it so. A bit down in the article is the heading: \"Instead of a Dump they Built a Palace.\"\n\nBack in the 1990s, the article reports, Mayor Anatoly Sobchak presented the Witnesses a plot of land in both Solnechnoe and Komomyazh—a total of 11.5 hectares. It included the remains of a former Pioneer Camp consisting of residences, buildings, and a boiler house, from a construction company. There was also an unpleasant surprise—under the future building was found a hazardous waste dump. But the Witnesses paid for the complete remediation. They also agreed, as a condition, to pay a significant sum as their contribution to the development of the city.\n\nWitnesses rebuilt the ruined camp and turned it into a well-landscaped lot. Fellow believers came from Finland, Sweden, and Norway to aid with the effort. The architect was Finnish. The construction work spanned ten years, from 1992 to 2002. It all belongs to \"citizens of other countries, the Witnesses aver, and therefore it cannot be confiscated.\" \"What do the witnesses of Jehovah have in St. Petersburg?\" MRKU asks. They answer their own question: \"One of the most influential religious organizations in the world from now on in Russia was banned.\"\n\n***~~~***\n\nEight days after the ban, Lisa Mullins of WBUR interviewed a resident of the Witness's branch facilities in St. Petersburg.4 His name is withheld. He stated: \"For me and my wife we spent here for last 23 years. We live a happy and interesting life, now is everything changed. We have to stop our religious activity in St. Petersburg and our administrative center and we have to go somewhere else. Of course, it is very painful. Many cried. Some tried to be positive, but it's emotional moment for every one of us because we built this administrative center. I spent one year building here, buildings and offices and everything with my friends from other countries, they all came to help us build our beautiful center and now we have to leave.\"\n\nMullins asked about the evangelizing work—is it still taking place in Russia today? \"Any activity of Jehovah's Witnesses could be viewed as extremist activity,\" was the reply. \"You might be discussing the Bible with a neighbor and find that it is viewed as a criminal action subject to ten years imprisonment.\" He stated that reports were being received of people being beaten \"not by police but by aggressive people who saw so many bad news from the government channel and after all this propaganda some people got angry and started to scream or even to beat some of our—we call brothers and sisters.\" \"So is it still happening, then?\"—Mullins seeks to clarify with regard to the public ministry. \"Some continue, some may be hesitant to do it. It's difficult to say in whole Russia,\" is the answer.\n\nConversation then turns to the reason for the ban. Why is it happening? \"We have no answer for that question because we love our neighbors. We try to preach good news of the kingdom to all our citizens in Russia, our neighbors, and why government viewed as a threat—it is really difficult to understand. Some observers say that we are very fast growing or we are too active or that we are compete with the Orthodox church, but frankly say we are not competing with anybody but we are just doing what we have to do—what Jesus command us to do: go and preach in all nations, but as you know, our website JW.org is already banned in Russia, and from April 2015 no single copy of our literature came through the border because government decided to forbid any shipments of literature to Russia - even Bible was stopped at the border and sent to the Court for expert study on anti-extremism law basis. It means they want to pronounce our New World Translation Bible also extremist literature, which is—yeah, it is ridiculous.\"\n\nMullins closes by inquiring whether her interviewee fears that he is putting himself in danger merely by speaking to her. The answer: \"I don't know—to be frank, I have no fear. If something will happen—okay it will happen—what I can do? What I am telling only the truth—then why I should fear? If something happens, okay, we will face this problem. For me it is easier because my family was exiled to Siberia. My father spent seven years in prison. My mother spent four years in prison. And I also myself spent one and a half years in prison for military service objection. That's why I know what does it mean to be persecuted and I have no fear.\"\n\n***~~~***\n\n\"We were hoping the court would realize that we are not a threat,\" said Robert Warren, a spokesman for Jehovah's Witnesses from their New York world headquarters. \"But now the environment is worse than ever.\"5 Witnesses in Russia have been assaulted, fired from their jobs, and have suffered destruction of property. Witness children have been bullied by teachers. Repercussions have spilled over boundaries. In early May, a 61-year-old Jehovah's Witness from neighboring Kazakhstan, a retired bus driver battling cancer, was sentenced to five years in prison and banned from preaching for three years after he gets out. But in late May there came a completely unexpected announcement: President Putin presented to Valery and Tatiana Novik, Jehovah's Witnesses from Karelia, the Order of Parental Glory. Six of the eight Novikov children also attended the award ceremony.6\n\nThe Order is given to parents with many children who set an example in strengthening the institution of the family. An eligible awardee must head a socially responsible family that leads a healthy lifestyle. He must ensure the full and harmonious development of the children's personality. The family must display a high level of care for their health, education, physical, spiritual and moral development. In response, speaking about the spiritual and moral development of children, Valery Novik cited a text from the Bible, which serves as a guide for him, the parent. The words he uttered were from the New World Translation which can no longer be quoted because that Bible is extremist. So what he said, according to the NABRE was: \"Train the young in the way they should go; even when old, they will not swerve from it.\"8\n\nLook, I am probably all wet here, but it is just possible Putin is doing it to soften the blow against Jehovah's Witnesses and/or to send a signal to intolerant ones that he is not with them. Perhaps it is akin to Eleanor Roosevelt putting in a good word for Witnesses during the outbreak of violence against them in the U.S.8 We err when we vilify him, in my opinion. When we do that, we are simply following the lead of the American media, whose reasons are political. If you watch Putin through any eyes other than that of the Western media, he does not come off as bellicose, sinister, or unreasonable. He heads a system of government that restricts some freedoms, so he is loathed in the West, where people are accustomed to a relative lack of restrictions.\n\nOf course, national leaders all have departments of public relations—we mustn't be naïve—but he simply does not display a villain's appearance, given the authoritarian form of government he heads. The unbridled freedom of Western democracy has not worked well for Russians, and his actions display a pushback against some of it. I remain hopeful, perhaps naively so, that he is not at heart one of the instigators—that he has gone along for the ride but is troubled by the wave of violence against people that he, as a career person, doesn't care for, but as a man, has nothing against and perhaps even regards with some favor. Perhaps he is like the Persian king, suddenly taking interest in what he has paid scant attention to previously, pondering what good thing should be done for Mordecai.9\n\nHe is careful to keep ties close with the Orthodox Church, but he may, at some point, no longer want to rubber stamp everything they do. Russia is painted in a bad enough light internationally as it is; he does not want to supply proof positive that the negative reports against his country are true. He wants Russia to take its rightful respected place among nations. He does not want to play hardball when there clearly is no reason for it.\n\nDoes the Witness religion break up families, as some have charged? The president of Russia has perhaps declared where he stands on that issue. The appeal of Russian Witnesses to the Supreme Court is to be heard in July. Perhaps it will not be the rubber stamp most people anticipate. Perhaps it will follow the pattern of the U.S. Supreme Court in the days of West Virginia State Board of Education v Barnette, which reversed the unfavorable-for-Witnesses Gobitis decision made just three years earlier.10\n\nWas Valery Novik like Esther? Was his conscience like Mordecai? Many Witnesses drew the analogy. In the days of Queen Esther, a scheme was launched to exterminate the Jews within King Ahasuerus's realm. With other things on his mind, it appeared that the king had been maneuvered into endorsing it by enemies of the Jews. The queen, a Jew, at much personal risk, spoke up in behalf of her people and secured their deliverance. Her uncle Mordecai had exhorted her: \"Even if you now remain silent, relief and deliverance will come to the Jews from another source....Who knows—perhaps it was for a time like this that you became queen.\" Esther rose to the occasion and dangerously broke protocol with a volatile king, having resolved: \"If I perish, I perish.\" Her brave course won delivery for her people. Would the Novik family do the same for Witnesses in Russia?11\n\nLet us not become overdramatic here. No one is risking his life to pick up his Grand Prize. Still, perhaps it was for a time like this that the Noviks became one of Russia's families of good repute. We will know more when we see who President Putin gives the award to next. If it is to a family of the other extremists, an ISIS family, with bombs hanging from their belts, we will know that all of our speculations are for naught.\n\n***~~~***\n\nEight governing members of Jehovah's Witnesses were sentenced to American prison in 1918, on violation of the Espionage and Sedition Act, mentioned previously. The religious press rejoiced. Dr. Ray H Abrams, in his book _Preachers Present Arms_ , reports that \"I have been unable to discover any words of sympathy in any of the orthodox religious journals.\"12 By this measure, the Russian media's response was almost cheery. Most of them rejoiced, but not all. One that did not was Novaya Gazeta, which ran an article summing up Witness beliefs with reasonable accuracy, if not proper order, and was sympathetic to their plight—taking for granted that they must continue to perform their ministry. Included were vignettes telling why some had become Witnesses and how they felt they had benefited from the faith.13 One woman said that she regretted only one thing—that she learned about the Bible too late to save her first marriage. Applying Bible principles would have done it, she felt, if she only had known them.\n\nSaid a man identified as Eugene, \"In Russia, the image of Witnesses is being demonized. Previously, we also came up with many different names—the enemy of the people, sectarian, spy, now this is the fashion word: extremist.\" He added: \"Witnesses do not take up arms, do not participate in wars and rallies. We will fight by purely legal methods. I do not understand why we are banned. But it seems to me that those who prohibit do not know the answer either.\"\n\nIt had not been easy for them to start speaking to others of God, and they now felt unable to stop simply because it had been outlawed: \"When I read that Jesus said, 'Go and tell about me,' I was so upset,\" laughs Eugene. \"Well, I did not want to go to anyone and communicate with anyone. It was hard for me, and now it's given.\" They hoped they would not have to flee Russia: \"Even if the decision does not change, there is the European Court. We do not want to leave the country because of the ban. We love Russia. We love the Russian language. We love these people.\"\n\n***~~~***\n\nMaterial is slotted for consideration at congregation meetings up to a year in advance. The material itself may have been written a year prior to that. Therefore, it is remarkable how worldwide \"Christian Life and Ministry\" meeting content seemed to parallel Russian developments. After the adverse April 20th verdict, the attention of individual Witnesses soon shifted to the appeal. Soon it was announced that such an appeal would be heard in July.\n\nThe uninitiated thinks that an appeal is a new trial, a second chance. It is not. It is a review of the first trial with the purpose of spotting procedural or constitutional errors. The verdict is not looked at anew unless errors are discovered. There were many errors in the original April 20th trial, but they were so blatant that it appeared nobody cared about errors. If they happened the first time, they would happen the second. However, hope springs eternal. Jehovah's Witnesses advanced cause for optimism. They like optimism. By a single stroke of the pen all of their 396 registered organizations in Russia had been eliminated and their religious activity was prohibited. Just where does one start with that? They chose optimism.\n\nMeeting content looked at similar events and court cases from other countries during that interim period leading up to appeal. Many thought one or all might prove a template for July. Perhaps somehow the Russian justices, upon learning their situation was not unique, would allow themselves to be instructed. The book _God's Kingdom Rules_ , then under consideration, summarized High Court victories in such countries as Switzerland, Romania, Netherlands, Serbia, Turkey, Greece, and the United States.14 A few other countries were also spotlighted for additional detail.\n\nOf Nicaragua in 1953, the book stated: \"Nicaraguans were amazed that the Supreme Court had sided with the Witnesses. Until then, the influence of the clergy had been so strong that the Court avoided conflicts with them. Also, the power of government officials was so great that the Court seldom went against their decisions.\" Witnesses attributed their victory to their God and the fact they had continued preaching during difficult seasons.15\n\nIn Zaire, the association of Jehovah's Witnesses was dissolved by presidential order on March 12, 1986, and the next day national radio announced: \"We shall never hear of Jehovah's Witnesses in [Zaire].\" In short order, Kingdom Halls were destroyed, and Witnesses were accosted, robbed, and imprisoned. Seven trying years later, however, following the pattern of Gobitis, there was a reversal. The high \"Court ruled that the government's actions against the Witnesses had been unlawful, and the ban was lifted....Putting their own lives at risk, the justices had annulled a decision of the country's president!\"16\n\nPerhaps Canada would be the place to watch. \"Quebec's Premier Maurice Duplessis, working hand in glove with Roman Catholic Cardinal Villeneuve, reacted to the tract [Quebec's Burning Hate for God and Christ and Freedom Is the Shame of All Canada] by declaring a 'war without mercy' against the Witnesses....'The police arrested us so many times we lost count,' said a pioneer sister.\"\n\n\"The trial court judge, who hated Witnesses, refused to admit evidence that proved the [defendant's] innocence. Instead, he accepted the prosecution's position that the tract stirred up ill will and thus the [defendants] should be found guilty...the brothers appealed to the Supreme Court of Canada,\" which overturned the ruling. \"Why? Brother Glen How, a lawyer for the Witnesses, explained that the Court agreed with the argument presented by the defense that 'sedition' requires incitement to violence or insurrection against government. The tract, however, 'contained no such incitements and was therefore a lawful form of free speech.'...this victory broke the back of Quebec's Church-State attack on the liberties of Jehovah's Witnesses.\"17\n\nThe very week before the July 17th appeal of the Russian Supreme Court decision, added material involving Russia itself was considered at the weekly meeting. It was recounted how after decades of ban under the communists, Jehovah's Witnesses were registered in 1991, followed by formal legal recognition in 1992. The book _God's Kingdom Rules_ continued:\n\n\"Before long, however, some opposers—particularly those associated with the Russian Orthodox Church—were unnerved by the rapid growth in our numbers. Opposers filed a series of five criminal complaints against Jehovah's Witnesses between 1995 and 1998. Each time, the prosecutor found no evidence of wrongdoing. The determined opposers then filed a civil complaint in 1998. The Witnesses prevailed at first, but the opposers rejected the verdict and the Witnesses lost on the appeal in May 2001. A retrial began in October of that year, leading to a decision in 2004 to liquidate the registered legal entity that the Witnesses use in Moscow and ban its activities.\n\n\"A wave of persecution followed. Witnesses faced harassment and assault. Religious literature was confiscated, renting or building houses of worship was severely restricted. Imagine how our brothers and sisters felt as they faced those hardships! The Witnesses had applied to the European Court of Human Rights (ECHR) in 2001, and they submitted additional information to the Court in 2004. In 2010, the ECHR reached its decision. The Court saw clearly that religious intolerance was behind Russia's ban on the Witnesses and ruled that there was no reason to uphold the decisions of the lower courts since there had been no evidence of wrongdoing on the part of any Witnesses. The Court further noted that the ban was designed to strip the Witnesses of their legal rights. The Court's decision upheld the Witnesses' right of freedom of religion. Although various Russian authorities have failed to comply with the ECHR ruling, God's people in that land have drawn great courage from such victories.\"18\n\n***~~~***\n\nIn late June of 2017, a poll taken by the Levada Center revealed that 79% of Russian citizens approved of the ban. Was the poll timed to remind the judges that upholding the ban at the upcoming July 17th appeal date would be a fine thing, or is it but paranoia to think that? The figure means little in itself. The result depends upon how the question is asked, Chivchalov pointed out. If it is just a matter of stopping awkward unannounced calls about religion, then the figure would be replicated in many parts of the world; this author, too, takes cover when he spots persons unknown walking up his driveway. _Get rid of them!_ is his first instinct. However, if the question is framed that violators might go to jail, get beaten up, and have property and belongings confiscated, the approval rate would likely drop sharply. For Russians are pretty much like people everywhere. Most are okay. A few are horrid.\n\n\"80% of the negative attitude toward Witnesses is due to media and state propaganda,\" Boris Malyshev, of the Russian State Humanities University observed, \"and 20% due to the stereotyped mindset of citizens.\" Few in the U.S. would consider the media hostile to them. Occasionally they are, but not consistently. Mostly they just botch the details of a religion they cannot get their heads around. But the Russian government recognizes only the four mainstream faiths, and all \"the rest are considered an annoying misunderstanding,\"19 Malyshev said. Witnesses are darkly perceived as \"a purely American phenomenon.\" Aleksei Levinson, of the Levada Center, confirms that \"the state broadcasts the idea that there should be no religious minorities and the negative attitude toward Witnesses is intensified by reports about their links with 'subversive foreign forces.'\"\n\nAn organization must be based somewhere, but it is hard to paint Jehovah's Witnesses as American, even though headquartered in New York State. Less than 15% of Jehovah's Witnesses live in the United States. The rest are scattered throughout all countries, where they ever represent a tiny minority.20 Ironically, the other \"off-grid\" Christian faith with American headquarters is the Church of Latter Day Saints (Mormons). It has over twice the concentration of members in America as do the Witnesses, and they are the most political of all faiths. Pew Research Center, in 2014, published a chart of political leanings by religion (29 faiths) and Mormons topped it, with 70% identifying as Republican, 19% as Democrat, and 11% as having no leaning.21 Jehovah's Witnesses almost broke the chart, with a full 75% listed as having \"no leaning (the next highest listing of that choice was Hindu with 26%),\" 7% Republican and 18% Democrat. Yet the Mormons get their new church in Moscow, noted previously, while Jehovah's Witnesses are losing their buildings. Don't misunderstand. This writer does not begrudge the Mormons their new church. I am just vexed about ours.\n\nAbout Jehovah's Witnesses, Pew says that they \"are taught to remain politically neutral and abstain from voting, [and they] stand out for their overwhelming identification as independents who do not lean toward either party. Three-quarters of Jehovah's Witnesses put themselves in that category.\" One might wonder why all of them do not. This writer's take is that it is because persons self-identify for the Pew chart. The Watchtower organization, on the other hand, counts as members, not those who self-identify, but those who report some activity in the Christian ministry. I have little doubt that, of those, the figure would be in the 90th percentile.\n\n***~~~***\n\nSpeaking at an early May joint news conference with Putin, German Chancellor Angela Merkel said: \"We have heard some very negative reports about the treatment of homosexuals in Chechnya and I asked President Vladimir Putin to use his influence to guarantee minority rights here as well as with Jehovah's Witnesses.\" Though she had mentioned the two in the same sentence, the BBC reported the gay plight and did not mention Jehovah's Witnesses. The Associated Press also managed to edit Witnesses away, though most sources did not.22\n\nIt is seldom that the gay community and Jehovah's Witnesses find common cause so that Angela Merkel can mention them in the same breath. American Witnesses thought it well that they were mentioned along with others suffering repression, but one Russian Witness said it said was not well. \"Comparing JWs with gays is not a good thing in Russia,\" she wrote. \"Very few people will protect gays. I am afraid I can't explain it but, believe me, it doesn't sound good....Of course I don't know, but hope report about [the intense persecution of] gay men is false. It is really hard to believe that there are alive gay men in Chechnya. They wanted to have gay parade in our city. And people wanted to beat them. Fortunately, the parade was forbidden because any gay propaganda is forbidden. Those gay men in Chechnya must be really brave...Russia doesn't like minorities.\"\n\nThere are gay men in Chechnya, and they are not faring well. In April, Russian newspaper Novaya Gazeta wrote of 100 men, thought to be gay, who were rounded up and tortured by government officials, spurred by concerns to head off that planned gay pride parade. Russia downplayed the incident, with the observation that \"there were not gay men in Chechnya.\"23\n\n***~~~***\n\nFor the purposes of this narrative, religion reporter Joshua Gill picks up where Emily Baran leaves off. He uncovers a major piece of the puzzle. He connects the dots that few Witnesses knew existed, and fewer still knew of their interplay. One cannot thank him enough. Upon the lost appeal, Gill wrote in The Daily Caller:24\n\n\"The Russian Supreme Court's July 17 ban on the Jehovah's Witnesses was the result of a decades long conspiracy funded by the French government, blessed by the Russian Orthodox Church, and sanctioned by the Putin administration....The latest phase of that plan first garnered international attention with Russian authorities' arrest of a Danish citizen.\" That would be Dennis Christensen, arrested May 25 for conducting a congregation meeting after the ban had gone into effect. Why is a foreign citizen the first person arrested? Is it to underline in bold the \"No Tolerance\" policy toward Witnesses? Arrest of a foreigner will surely draw the world's attention more than arrest of a Russian, which is more easily written off as an internal affair and no concern of anyone else.\n\nGill spotlights the role of Alexander Dvorkin, the Russian Ministry's Expert Council for Conducting State Religious Studies. That Council exists so as \"to investigate religions that deviate from Russian Orthodox teaching and to recommend actions against those religions to the state.\" They have recommended taking strong action on non-majority faiths. Mr. Dvorkin is also vice president of the European Federation of Research and Information Centers on Sectarianism (FECRIS), a French NGO dedicated to identifying as a \"sect/cult or a guru the organization or the individual which misuses beliefs and behavioral techniques for his own benefit.\" It is an organization fully funded by the French government, and it may be remembered that that government tried to eliminate Jehovah's Witnesses by imposing a 60% tax on their activities in 1998. The tax was doggedly appealed by Jehovah's Witnesses until it was struck down by the European Court of Human Rights fourteen years later.\n\nThe Daily Caller article reveals the depth of Dvokin's misinformation and dislike of Jehovah's Witnesses. \"Their adepts recruit failed university enrollees, and people on vacation as well [as though the two groups have everything in common, rather than nothing]; they have a wide range of psychological influence, especially on the unstable minds of adolescents and youths,\" he says of both them and the Hare Krishnas. He has encouraged the public to \"take part in the fight against sects, file complaints and collect raw data so that the local authorities can react quickly.\" In a 2009 documentary called \"Emergency Investigation: Jehovah's Witnesses,\" he compared Witnesses to drug dealers. _The Journal for the Study of Beliefs and Worldviews_ attributes instances of public violence against Russian Witness members to that documentary. There is even a new app in Moscow with which to report sects, so that the \"person or his relatives who got into the sect, now do not have to write statements, he can quickly send us information. There are agreements with law enforcement agencies and experts of the Ministry of Justice, they will process it, if something serious—automatically the information will come to the police.\"25\n\nIt is impossible not to call to mind religious enemies of early times who instigated the violence against the original Christians, as related in Acts. Jehovah's Witnesses, as the foremost example, are more dangerous than Satanists, Dvorkin says, because they \"conceal evil under the guise of good.\" Counterintuitively, the Satanist Church of Moscow was not among the handful of groups he singled out. It has not been labeled extremist. It has also come out in enthusiastic support of the Witness ban.26\n\n***~~~***\n\n\"Jehovah's Witnesses Had Foes Before Putin\" announced the Bloomberg headline the day after the decision to ban, with the subtitle: \"Russia is reverting to Soviet-era restrictions on religion. But this denomination has survived worse.\" The previously-quoted writer, Leonid Bershidsky, expressed no doubt that the \"stubborn group\" would fight on, but \"the court has delivered another chilling reminder that President Vladimir Putin's Russia is even less free than the USSR was.\"27\n\nWitnesses in Russia will not intimidate easily because they have rarely known anything but persecution in Russia. Bershidsky recounts some history: \"When, after Stalin's death, the state stopped systematically imprisoning them and switched to an harassment tactic, the flock started growing. By January 1991, when President Mikhail Gorbachev's government officially permitted the organization, there were about 45,000 followers in the Soviet Union. They formed one of the most stubborn and resourceful resistance groups that ever existed in the Communist country.\" Bershidsky then quotes Emily Baran: \"They [under the Soviets] organized a highly complex underground organization, with its own finances, leadership structures, and internal reporting system that kept careful record of its members' archives. While intellectual dissidents exercised caution in sharing their views with others who could denounce them, Witnesses spoke about their beliefs to complete strangers in an effort to convert them.\"\n\nThe 1991 honeymoon between the government and Jehovah's Witnesses was over almost as soon as it began. Witness promptly acquired over 100,000 new members, and that was enough for their opponents. Old unfavorable memes reappeared and were enhanced by some new ones in the guise of anti-cult crusading. Writes Bershidsky, \"Russia has no more patience with openness and tolerance. Putin's regime doesn't care whether it passes any tests on that score. In a way, it's as defiant as the Witnesses, and so far, it's just as resilient. But the Jehovah's Witnesses have been resilient for longer.\"\n\nNotwithstanding a certain _clash of the titans_ air, mentioned previously, it is a fine article of support—well-informed. It is appreciated. But clashing is not what Witnesses want. All they desire is to exist. And to read the Bible. And to meet. And to spotlight Bible teachings. People do not \"light a lamp and then put it under a bushel basket; it is set on a lampstand, where it gives light to all in the house,\" says Jesus.28\n\nGrant Witnesses these few concessions and they will be as happy as pigs in mud. They won't make any trouble. They will find out what are the rules of the national king for maintaining public order, which vary from country to country, and follow them. When the king levies taxes, they will pay them; they are known not to cheat in this regard. If they draw upon social services, they will draw upon them less than most groups. When it comes to police resources, they will draw upon these barely at all, provided those resources are not employed to prevent them from existing. Governments will have no trouble from them. Through personal and family morality, they will be a good influence, aiding governments in their own efforts to promote laudable qualities among their citizenry. It will be a win-win.\n\n***~~~***\n\nWas the letter-writing campaign of Jehovah's Witnesses a waste of time and money? It dissuaded no one from imposing a ban on Witness activities. Other than earning a \"Postal Glory\" award from financially strapped postal systems, what exactly was accomplished?\n\nAgain, Witnesses like to put a good face on things theocratic. Mark Sanderson of the Governing Body gushed on about the \"wonderful witness\" that was given the world. And why not? What does the verse say? \"You are my witnesses—oracle of the LORD—my servant whom I have chosen. To know and believe in me and understand that I am he. Before me no god was formed, and after me there shall be none,\" says Isaiah.29 And a psalmist declares: \"Let them know that your name is LORD, you alone are the Most High over all the earth.\"30 (As observed before, the modern trend is to remove the divine name. Some translations, though not the NABRE, have yet let it remain at this Psalm, since the passage sounds odd without it. The Russian synodal translation includes the name ten times. At the trial to ban the New World Translation, partly due to the name, the Witness attorney pointed out that it was engraved on the Constitutional Court building of St. Petersburg. Had those proceedings been held there, one can almost picture the judge leading a delegation outside to check.)31 If one measures by these verses, the publicity campaign was a resounding success.\n\nMoreover, it is hard to imagine a campaign that could so captivate and bind the Witness worldwide brotherhood. The witness given the world over appears to be lasting. Alexa.com, measuring worldwide web traffic, records two distinct spikes in traffic to the Witness website from search engines—just before the trial and just after the appeal.32 In the span of three months, the worldwide ranking of JW.org rose from #1200 to #800. People hear the charge that the website is extremist. Some visit to investigate, where they find that it is not.\n\nSeen in this light, the Russian authorities are doing kingdom interests a great favor. It is a 21st century adaptation of Acts chapter 8: \"On that day, there broke out a severe persecution of the church in Jerusalem, and all were scattered throughout the countryside of Judea and Samaria...those who had been scattered went about preaching the word.\" Opponents succeed in shutting down the good news locally. But not without much publicity, which ultimately intensifies the witness. In time, the kingdom message spills right back into where it was banned in the first place, stronger than before.33\n\nChapter 3 endnotes\n\nReturn to Table of Contents\n\n# Chapter 4 – Appeal\n\nAnton Chivchalov covered the July 14th appeal with the following tweets:1\n\nBy human logic, we can't win this appeal since everything seems to be decided, but nobody knows what Jehovah wants to do\n\nMore than 100 people already gathered by Supreme Court building 2 hours before the beginning\n\nForeign diplomats, lots of journalists, police, and the biggest court hall—everything is the same as in April\n\nOur side has 4 representatives: Kalin, Zhenkov, Omelchenko, Novakov. MOJ [Ministry of Justice] side is the same: Svetlana Borisova\n\nToday there are 3 judges instead of 1\n\nJudges: Galina Manohina (chair), Vladimir Zaitsev, Vladimir Popov\n\nOur attorney asks to postpone the hearing until all claims from individual Witnesses are heard (which are hundreds)\n\nHe files motion to question those Witnesses who were rehabilitated as victims of political repressions which the court never did\n\nFile motion to question witnesses of literature planting and other cases of fabricating evidence by the FSB\n\nOur side has 5 representatives totally (plus Toporov)\n\nTotally, our attorneys want to question 57 witnesses\n\nThey file some other motions that the lower court rejected, like analysis of \"extremist\" literature\n\nRemind that the court must analyze all evidence related to the case, and this was not done properly in the lower court\n\n\" _According to new law, the Bible can't be declared extremist, but all JWs literature is based on the Bible\"_\n\nFile motion to questions experts (religious scholars, linguists, etc.) which was again rejected by the lower court\n\nFile motion to add new facts of vandalism and other aggressive acts towards JWs after April 20, ask to watch videos\n\nMOJ protests against all our motions\n\nCourt takes a break to discuss the new motions\n\nIf they reject all of them now, it would mean they want to finish in one day\n\n... _It took court just 10 minutes to consider many motions, dozens of witnesses, lots of new facts of aggression against citizens_\n\nCourt offers our attorneys to explain their arguments\n\nAttorneys: \"Lower court gave no proofs of extremist activities on part of JWs, even MOJ admitted they had none\"\n\n\" _Why 396 organizations are banned if only 10 of them declared extremist, and no evidence of extremist activity on part of AC? [Administrative Center]\"_\n\n\" _Even MOJ admitted the AC and more than 300 LROs [Local Religious Organizations] never committed extremist acts as they are defined by law\"_\n\n\" _Why then court ruled just the opposite: ban them for extremism, is it not surprising for you as judges?\"_\n\n\" _In Crimea 22 LROs were banned despite any wrongdoings ever recorded and after just 2 years after their registration\"_\n\n\" _Also errors in lower court verdict. It says extremist acts on part of AC were established, while MOJ admitted they were not\"_\n\n\" _Court ignored fact that almost all publications were declared extremist before Supreme Court explanation in 2011...\"_\n\n\"... _explanation that criticism of other religions and beliefs can't be considered extremism, hatred, or inciting to discord\"_\n\nWhat a curious case of a court ignoring its own rulings\n\n\" _All previous courts didn't allow the AC to take part in proceedings explaining that the AC had nothing to do with those cases...\"_\n\n\"... _And now the court suddenly takes the opposite stance and bans AC on the basis of exactly those cases!\"_\n\n\" _Dear court, you must be coherent. Isn't the Supreme Court an example to all other courts in Russia?\"_\n\n\" _The lower court verdict is also not adequate to stated danger. Court wanted to protect interests and safety of citizens...\"_\n\n\" _But lower court itself established that in 26 years of AC activity no harm was done to state, no vandalism, no moral harm\"_\n\n\" _And what threat to state or public are we talking about if even the President himself awarded JWs on May 31 in Kremlin?\"_\n\n\" _On the other hand, believers themselves face threats and violation of their rights, we have many examples\"_\n\n\" _The lower court erroneously prohibited 395 banned LROs from taking part in the hearings\"_\n\n\" _Lower court erroneously applied a number of laws and rulings that are inapplicable to religious organizations\"_\n\n\" _Lower court established that AC financed LROs, but MOJ failed to provide any financial documents—we believe deliberately\"_\n\n\" _The whole case is based on fabricated evidence such as planting of literature which is clearly seen on video\"_\n\nAttorney shows video screenshots to the court\n\n\" _The ruling has all attributes of political repressions as in a similar case 'Merabishvili vs. Georgia' in the ECHR\"_\n\nAttorney proves that application of anti-extremism laws to JWs is unpredictable and random which is against international law\n\nNow it's the turn of the Ministry of Justice (MOJ) Svetlana Borisova to give explanations\n\nBorisova: \"All religions have right to disseminate its ideas, but their formulations should not insult members of other religions\"\n\n\" _Close relationship between the AC and LROs [Local Religious Organizations] prove that they are one organization, not separate entities\"_\n\nAnd that's all she can say. Of course, if the verdict is already decided, why waste time?\n\nCourt has no questions to the MOJ\n\nOur attorneys ask to pronounce some case files, judge: \"We've been preparing it for long and already well know all documents\"\n\n20-minute break announced\n\nCourt pronounce the public declaration published by AC in February 2017 and religious scientific reference about JWs\n\nDebates begin. Attorney Zhenkov: JWs are well known in the world and never known as extremists, why Russia is different?\n\n\" _They love each other, their neighbors, and are far from everything mentioned in the anti-extremism law\"_\n\n\" _Though some Russians dislike their religion, even they don't associate JWs with extremists\"_\n\n\" _History of JWs has proved that extremism and their beliefs are two absolutely inconsistent things\"_\n\n\" _So why are all their 396 organizations being banned? Only one reason: erroneous application of anti-extremism laws\"_\n\n\" _Even MOJ representative today incorrectly quoted from the law: 'superiority of one religion over another'\"_\n\n\" _There is no such thing in the law, but a different statement: superiority of one person over another one based on religion\"_\n\n\" _Only once in history in Russia the state confiscated religious property: in 1918, why repeat it today?\"_\n\n\" _In the past, judicial mistakes costed a lot to millions of innocent people, why repeat the same mistakes again?\"_\n\n\" _Is it lawful to ban 395 LROs without giving them ability to defend themselves?\"_\n\n\" _Is it lawful to make rulings that result in violence and hatred against people that became targets just because of this ruling?\"_\n\n\" _Extremism of JWs remains extremism on paper, virtual, without any consequences and victims\"_\n\n\" _It's unlawful and unfair to judge anybody without their presence\"_\n\n\" _Jesus was judged unfairly, illegally, but even the Sanhedrin didn't dare to judge him without his presence\"_\n\n\" _Hitler vowed to destroy JWs for their refusal to become extremists, and MOJ today wants to label JWs as extremists\"_\n\n\" _Isn't it strange that FSB failed to provide any evidence or recordings of any Witness giving anybody any extremist literature\"?_\n\nReply to.....Sir William Blackstone was an English jurist, judge&Tory politician of the 18th C. He is most noted4writing Commentaries on the Laws of Eng.\n\n\" _There are law of nature dictated by God and law of revelation, they are higher than everything else\", quotes William Blackstone_\n\n\" _The natural law finds absurd to persecute someone for teaching to 'love neighbor as yourself' even if he thinks others are wrong\"_\n\n\" _And both court and MOJ agree that JWs are persecuted for teaching Russian citizens their Bible-based beliefs\"_\n\nNow it's the MOJ turn to speak\n\nMOJ: \"Their crimes are dangerous, systematic, deliberate, and gross\"\n\nQuotes from the state strategy of counteracting extremism\n\nThat's all, the judges left to consider verdict\n\nJudges came\n\nPredictably, we lost\n\nOur representative Sivulsky to journalists: \"Religious freedom in Russia is over\"\n\n\" _You as reporters can either promote hatred or soften it\"_\n\n\" _As you could see today, there were no real facts of any extremism on part of JWs, it's all about bad literature and intolerance\"_\n\n\" _It's a very sad situation for our country: now anyone who studies the Bible can be jailed\"_\n\n\" _Many reasonable people can't believe that it's happening in modern Russia: ban a whole religion\"_\n\n\" _We are very surprised: the whole pyramid the MOJ built is falling apart, but the court still rules this way\"_\n\nWe're appealing to ECHR, but in 2015 Russia adopted new law allowing to avoid its decisions if they're against our constitution.\n\nAnd of course, whether they are against Constitution or not, will be decided inside Russia\n\nReporters sensitive to such things knew that Sivulsky was right—Russian religious freedom was over. The government had spoken loud and clear: \"There are FOUR religions in Russia: Russian Orthodox, mainstream Buddhism, Judaism and Islam! Everyone else had better watch their backs lest what happened to Jehovah's Witnesses not happen to them—and it may anyhow.\" It is as though the order came down: \"You can drive a Chevy sedan, a Ford sedan, a Dodge sedan and if you absolutely must go exotic and foreign, a Hyundai sedan. That's more than enough! Never speak to us about this again!\"\n\nAfter the verdict, a Witness who follows world politics (relatively few do) grumbled: \"By shrewd selling of weapons and assistance [Putin's] influence is increasing in the world, especially the middle east [where she resides]. The Russians love him for it.\" Well—as stated, we won't go there. He is not my pal, but we are wrong if we demonize anyone personally. That is just buying into Western media hype. Who is there knowing whether with him it will one day be \"the one who once was persecuting us is now preaching the faith he once tried to destroy?\"2 No, I don't think it likely, either. But neither was it with Paul. Why poison the well? The grumbler feels the same way, most likely. It is just that with such an outrageous injustice, it is hard not to look for a human villain. _That_ is easy to understand.\n\nThe best reason for staying neutral in world affairs is the Witnesses' reason—they represent, as an ambassador, a separate nation—God's kingdom. Accordingly, they do not meddle with the affairs of their host country. A second reason that even many non-Witnesses will latch onto, is that it is impossible to know all the relevant facts.\n\nIt is a herculean task trying to decipher the latest through the conflicting array of this world's media. No matter. It is not, at root, any person we are dealing with, for they are but actors in the play. They are almost _literally_ actors, with Putin riding shirtless or covering Fats Domino's Blueberry Hill, and the American president revisiting his celebrity days from The Apprentice. One must not be distracted. It is the rulers of the invisible places that must be watched. \"For our struggle is not with flesh and blood but with the principalities, with the powers, with the world rulers of this present darkness, with the evil spirits in the heavens.\"3 Those outside the Witness world will understand the political causes of persecution better than do the Witnesses themselves, but the latter understand the spiritual causes.\n\nTwo days after the appeal decision, the Slavic Center for Law and Justice expressed concerned over the precedent set. Even the symbolism boded ill. The Center's Roman Lunkin wrote about the ban coming on Hitler's birthday and the appeal confirmation on the anniversary of the royal family's murder. Prosecutors chose an easy target, but it might come back to haunt others who at present imagine themselves safe. They knew that in the religious world \"nobody especially would support Jehovah's Witnesses, and official representatives of the Russian Orthodox Church will condemn them with joy.\" They observed sardonically that \"such Orthodox activists as Roman Silantiev or Alexander Dvorkin base discrimination...on myths about 'national security' and how spies exist everywhere, and poor citizens supposedly do not know who is preaching to them.\"\n\n\"Nobody considered the consequences of the decision that was adopted,\" Russian lawyer Vladimir Ryakhovsky said. \"After 17 July it is inevitable, not only that property will be confiscated, which is an unprecedented since Soviet times nationalization of church property, but also that there will be criminal cases against members of religious congregations. Believers may wind up in confinement or receive suspended sentences.\" Lunkin laments for his nation's reputation: \"The case of Jehovah's Witnesses for many years became the occasion for accusations against Russia in violation of freedom of conscience and just common sense....Believers prepared a complaint to the European Court of Human Rights and it is perfectly clear that the decision will not be in favor of Russia.\" In the West they paint this sort of thing as \"starting down the slippery slope.\" Lunkin paints it as more akin to jumping off a cliff. \"Hope that common sense will prevail has not been justified,\" he writes.4\n\n\"Baptists, Pentecostals, charismatics, Adventists immediately became prime targets for radical 'fighters against sects.'\" Lunkin describes how existing law might easily be used against the Orthodox Church itself, as there are factions both conservative and liberal therein who also want to preach. The prospect of jail time now has many of them more scared than Jehovah's Witnesses, who never doubted that such a thing might happen in the first place—the series of videos dramatizing police action against Christians, shown at the worldwide Regional Conventions of 2016 and referred to in chapter 2 of this book were plainly in a Russian setting.5\n\nThe political world is subdued over the actions taken by the Court. Some from that world have been supportive of the Witnesses. But even those who have not are not inclined to cheer. Do they look at the 2nd Psalm with discomfort? \"Why do the nations protest and the peoples conspire in vain? Kings on earth rise up and princes plot together against the LORD and against his anointed one: 'Let us break their shackles and cast off their chains from us!' The one enthroned in heaven laughs; the LORD derides them. Then he speaks to them in his anger, in his wrath he terrifies them.\"6\n\nNo, they do not believe the verse; they have moved beyond that. But, deep within themselves, is there not yet some reluctance to put themselves on the short end of that equation? Are they all so bold as to, when informed that something is in the Bible, tear out the page like Jehoiakim and say that it is not?7 Might some of them be like Pilate's wife who sought to extricate her husband from the hot spot? \"Have nothing to do with that righteous man. I suffered much in a dream today because of him,\" she cautioned.8\n\nNo one of Jehovah's Witnesses knew at first just how strictly the ban would be enforced. Perhaps it would be but an unambiguous policy statement of little practical consequence—just insurance to be held in someone's back pocket. Quickly it became apparent that the authorities were playing hardball. Within days of the appeal, a campground was raided. It was feared that Jehovah's Witnesses were teaching their religion to their children, thereby causing them harm.9\n\nIt didn't sit well with those who commented on the news article. \"Something is too much. Even I, being an inveterate and convinced atheist, against such interference in the personal life of citizens, even if they are any Witnesses (this is still to be proved). People are adults, they went out with their tents to rest, yes, and with their children.\" 54 comments were supportive. Most were sympathetic to Witnesses. One who was not—Witnesses would call him an \"apostate\"—out-wrote all of his peers, chiming in six times that they were objectionable by many standards and got only what they deserved.10\n\nThe first person to be arrested for conducting a congregation meeting was not a Russian at all, but a Danish citizen residing in the country with his Russian-born wife. It was as though Russia wished to signal the world that there would be no tolerance. At the time of this writing, Dennis Christensen has been imprisoned nearly a year and trial is just now (maybe) getting underway. Efforts to secure release on bail have been thwarted by prosecutors insisting he is a \"dangerous criminal.\" His wife has no resources or financial support and their bank accounts have been frozen. A carpenter, his last actions of public note were to build a playground for the children and to take part in the clean-up of a public park.\n\nHe was arrested on the evening of May 25, 2017. At least 15 masked and armed police together with Federal Security Service (FSB) officers disrupted a religious service of 70-80 people. Most were detained hours, with about 20 held until 9 the next morning. Christensen was charged with organizing an illegal religious activity. If convicted, he faces up to 10 years of imprisonment.11\n\nHe was interrogated throughout the first night of his arrest, reported his lawyer, and was not given any food until 36 hours had passed. Nor did he look good at his pre-trial hearing before judge Svetlana Naumova in Soviet District Court of Oryol. He had been kept awake for 40 hours. Only his lawyer and a Danish Embassy official had been allowed to visit him. His wife had not till then been allowed, though at present she can visit twice a month.\n\nAt a September 28th pre-trail hearing, he himself addressed the courtroom, which included many supporters.12 Danish supporters asked him questions and he answered in Danish, with his wife translating for everyone else. Reporter Denis Volin of the Orel News relates: \"At some point the Dane began singing some melodic song and tapping on the table, which evoked smiles and laughter from those gathered around. However he was quickly rebuked.\"\n\nHe later addressed all: \"I am an honest and peaceful person who tries to live according to the golden rule: Do unto others as you wish that they will do unto you. Therefore I respect the opinion of others, even if they do not agree with me...I have never done anything criminal. This contradicts everything that I believe and love, and on which I have built my life. In the gospel of Matthew it is said: 'Love the Lord as you love yourself and love your neighbor as yourself.' I have always acted in this way: I have loved God and neighbor.\n\n\"I have lived for many years in this splendid city with my wife, Irina. Every spring and every fall I have participated in volunteer work days [subotniki]. Here in Orel is my life and my work. I am an independent businessman. Since 2009 I have done much to build a good business and to develop relations with clients. They know me as a peace-loving and honest person on whom one can depend. In addition, I have many friends in Orel who are very dear to me. The FSB has tarnished my honor and good name by means of false and contradictory accusations. But these are false accusations and I intend to prove that.\"\n\nHe also described how in custody his health has deteriorated sharply. \"It is very cold and damp in the cell. All day I walk about the room in a winter overcoat and hat and at night I wear all available clothing. I became sick and developed a cold. But when I appeal to the medics that they would give me medicine for a sore throat, I find out that they do not have medicines and cannot help.\" He is allowed to shower but twice a week and washes other times out of a bottle with cold water. He confused the Danes by telling them he ate a lot of \"sechka\" (buckwheat gruel), a food of which they had not heard, and it required the locals to explain to them that is a fermented dish of common prison fare.\n\nAfter deliberation, the judge returned to the courtroom. He quickly announced that the decision of the district court remained in force and thus the Dane will remain in pre-trail detention at least until the end of November. [which has now extended into 2018]\n\nSeeking to justify the Witness ban before a critical British official, the Russian Embassy broadened the charges against them.13 Not only were 95 publications and materials of Jehovah's Witnesses extremist according to the Russian law—even the children's book and even \"5 Ways to Improve Your Health\"—but \"the management of Jehovah's Witnesses in Russia has also been involved in other crimes such as money laundering and seizure of its followers' property.\" Thus, it was not a religious crackdown at all, but a simple criminal proceeding. Hopefully, the British official would mind his own business, the Embassy suggested.\n\nThrow it on the stack! It is another \"insult.\" It is another \"evil.\" It's about time Witnesses start taking pleasure in insults and evils, for they certainly get their fill of them. They cannot possibly be as bad as their enemies say they are because the Devil is not that bad. Zero in on the first part of the verse this time: \"Blessed are you when they insult you and persecute you and utter every kind of evil against you [falsely] because of me.\" Why blessed? \"Rejoice and be glad, for your reward will be great in heaven.\"14 Fortify yourself like the apostle Paul, for in the end it makes you strong: \"Therefore, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and constraints, for the sake of Christ; for when I am weak, then I am strong.\"15 (brackets original to text)\n\nIt is just the government trying to defuse a firestorm of international condemnation. If there was anything to it, it would have been part of the court case—though probably not, because no reasons were actually given there. There has never been a financial scandal among Jehovah's Witnesses. However, do not level an accusation when they are legal and can represent themselves in court—level it after they have been declared illegal and are thereby impeded.\n\nTo do what Jehovah's Witnesses do is now criminal in Russia. It is the pat line: \"I never speak about religion or politics\" on steroids. It is those loath to admit that they really don't care about the deep spiritual matters they know in their hearts they should care about. It is those offended that uneducated street ministers would invade the realm of the professionals. It is those who disapprove of God having the temerity to declare: \"I will destroy the wisdom of the wise, and the learning of the learned I will set aside.\"16 It is those who dislike Jesus saying \"that the light came into the world, but people preferred darkness to light.\"17 It is me laying it on pretty thick, but not inaccurately. The Soviet government brought in the \"iron\" a hundred years ago, but it took the modern Russian government partnering with the Church to bring in the \"silver\"18 of judicial outrage.\n\nOne week after the Witness appeal was denied, legal proceedings began in Vyborg City Court to declare the New World Translation of the Bible extremist and thereby ban it. The government summoned many of their experts and they all agreed that it was extremist. One of them was concerned that the cover read: \"New World Translation of the _Sacred Scriptures_ \" and not \"New World Translation of the _Bible_.\" She further fretted that the Table of Contents divided books into the \"Hebrew-Aramaic Scriptures\" and the \"Greek Scriptures,\" instead of the Old and New Testaments. As evidence that it included extremist speech, much was made of Genesis 19:24: \"God rained fire and sulfur on Sodom and the nearby city of Gomorrah. All their wicked inhabitants perished.\" It was quoted over a dozen times at the trial. Surely that is hate speech, it was alleged, an allegation that carried the day even after it was pointed out that all Bible translations say the same thing.19\n\nChivchalov wrote for Porta-Credo on July 26th as follows: \"For the hearing of 28 July, the prosecutor's office has prepared a new, intensive expert analysis of the New World Translation which is simply shocking in its illiteracy and outright mockery of law of a secular state. In a sort of 'secular' and 'scientific' expert analysis, the provisions of the Orthodox faith are defended by the open text, for example the doctrine of the Trinity, while it cites a seminary student as an academic authority. It declares unacceptable the use of the name of God in the form of 'Jehovah,' despite the fact that this same name in the same form is used in the official Orthodox Synodal translation All of this shows that the prosecutor's office now does not hide the fact that it is fighting with the Jehovah's Witnesses from a purely doctrinal, theological position....The expert analysis is essentially plagiarism, since it copies various public sources about Jehovah's Witnesses from the Internet, which naturally have an anti-cult bias.\"20\n\nA member of the Council on Human Rights under the President of the Russian federation, Liudmila Alekseeva, comments on the trial of the Bible thus: \"If knowledgeable people do not stop them, it will be a disgrace before the whole world, because the Bible is a great book which is read not only by Christians of the whole world but by the whole world in general. They just have to be very ignorant people.\" Chivchalov adds: \"The trial will become a litmus test, which will show whether we really live in a secular state, where all religions are equal, or whether in our country once again some turn out to be more equal than others.\"21\n\nAlexander Verkhovsky, who runs the Moscow-based SOVA Center for Information and Analysis, sums up the experts that the Court relied upon: \"Within the community of experts who specialize in texts and extremist acts, [they] are already practically household names. Not only that, their education does not correspond to anything. They simply write any nonsense and for this they are famous. All translations differ. Why this [Bible translation] can be in any sense illegal is completely incomprehensible.\"22\n\nThe hearing to ban the New World Translation, the verdict since reaffirmed in higher courts, followed a by-now predictable pattern. Chivchalov offered tweet after tweet of remarks validating the New World Translation, followed by a final tweet of its banning.\n\nThe ban of the Book was too much even for Alexander Dvorkin, the one who got the ball rolling in the first place. It is a Bible—obviously it is—he complains. He doesn't like it, but it plainly is a Bible. Banning the Bible makes his country look like a nation of goons, something that was never his intent. To say it is not a translation of the Bible is \"unreasonable, erroneous, and extremely harmful,\" he writes for Pravoslavie.ru. Every intelligent person in the world knows it. The Court decision \"causes huge losses to the image of our country.\"23 From patriotic sentiments, smarting from such a huge loss needlessly inflicted upon a country he loves, Platon Prohorov of RelioPolis becomes very sharp: \"Alas, the carriers and disseminators of these negative factors, which cause our country and its people to be traumatized, are not rats or cockroaches, which can be combated with substances designed to do so, but are the people themselves\" who \"with foaming mouths defend [the ban's] 'advisability.'\"24 One wonders if he isn't including Dvorkin himself in his condemnation, as none of this would have happened without him.\n\n\"It is not the government's business, in the person of its officials who are not very competent in linguistics, theology, and religious studies, to issue a decision as to which translation is correct and which is not, or which faith is true and which is not,\" Dvorkin writes. He was happy when the same persons banned the Witness organization itself, but they went on the overstep their bounds. In tackling the matter of Bible translation, they look like fools, despite the help, or primarily _due_ to the help, of their \"experts.\" He laments that the Court \"amateurs\" were drawn into an \"extremely crude theological mistake.\" They thought that their job was to show that the New World Translation refuted the Trinity doctrine, and thereby demonstrate its extremist nature. However, the Synodal translation also refutes it, as the Witness lawyer made clear. 25\n\nJohn 8:18 was discussed. The Witness lawyer chose it specifically as something that would appeal to lawyers and the judge, since it referred to Israelite law and how there must be two witnesses for testimony to have force. Jesus says in that text: \"I myself bear witness about myself and the Father who glorifies me bears witness about me.\" The Trinity doctrine makes them both a single meaningless witness; only rejecting that doctrine allows the verse to make any sense. \"Christ says precisely that God and Christ are two witnesses, and that means their testimony had legal force,\" explains Mr. Dvorkin.26 It is in the Synodal translation, and it demonstrates exactly why the Church doesn't like Witnesses to preach from the Bible—any Bible, because they'll mess it up, reading what it says instead of what it is supposed to say. What it actually says Dvorkin deems an \"extremely crude theological mistake.\"\n\nThough he crafted his scheme to ban Witnesses, Mr. Dvorkin has not lost sight that \"the issue is about a [Russian] government whose constitution proclaims its religious neutrality.\" It is not a ban on people, just the organization behind it. The government cannot ban a religion constitutionally. But the clumsy Court apparently didn't understand that. They just reached the decision that they thought they were expected to reach, as they were among the general population under the impression that they _had_ banned the Witness religion.\n\nThe errors of the Vyberg court are so blatant, issuing decrees on things they know nothing about, that Dvorkin fears another court may come along later with some knowledge and overturn things. The European Court of Human rights will certainly do so, but they are Western, and can thus be dismissed. Prior rulings overturning restrictions of Jehovah's Witnesses in Moscow indicate that the European Court does not sufficiently appreciate Russia's point of view. However, the woeful translation decision may be too much even for another _Russian_ court, he fears.\n\nLook, he didn't want to outlaw the Witness _religion_ , he says, just the people directing it. He has no problem whatsoever with members of a family, provided that they can be separated from that family—all the better to be assimilated. This is a battle for hearts and minds—nothing less. The Watchtower study article stated: \"The world under Satan's influence is still searching for a way to settle national and international disputes. Jehovah alone has the wisdom to bring about world peace.\"27 \"No, he doesn't,\" Mr. Dvorkin says in effect. \"Besides, even if he does, it is at the expense of 'controlling people'—too great a cost to pay.\" A supporting verse for the Watchtower passage was Isaiah 2:4. \"One nation shall not raise the sword against another, nor shall they train for war again.\" They \"don't pick up the sword?\" How hard is that to understand? \"They'll pick it up when we tell them to,\" the State says, with Dvorkin's blessing. \"They certainly will not put it down at the behest of a faith whose headquarters is _outside_ the country!\"\n\nMr. Dvorkin is thrilled at what he's accomplished, but banning the Bible goes too far and makes he and his co-religionists look like thugs. He says of his victory: \"In July 2017 the Russian Supreme Court liquidated the religious organization of Jehovah's Witnesses in our country and confiscated its property. All of it! There is no such organization in Russia any more. The sect lost a substantial part of its possibilities of having influence upon its members. Now it has become much more difficult to assemble files on them and to control each aspect of their life. The possibility of passing financial streams along sectarian channels is also now reduced to a minimum. Representative functions through the use of real estate have been lost. The possibilities for recruiting have been reduced to a substantial degree. Now the flow of new members has come to naught and the departure of the old will be increased monthly.\"28\n\n_We broke both their legs! They'll die now_ , is his expressed conviction. There is no need to go further and ban a Bible, a move that can only backfire. \"Now the sect has been presented a unique possibility—to prove that all of its devotees really made their choice for themselves, without psychological influence and pressure of the organization. I am sure that it will not be able to prove this. Let them try to gather devotees in small groups in private apartments and explain the faith in their own words without the techniques and control of the Brooklyn center and to exist without financial inputs and influences from the U.S.A. and so forth.\"29\n\nHad Mr. Dvorkin had his way in the first century, the Christian \"devotees in small groups in private apartments\" would have been deprived of the letters from Paul, James, Peter, and John, because that represents outside \"psychological influence and pressure.\" The events related in Christian history would not have happened: \"As they traveled from city to city, they handed on to the people for observance the decisions reached by the apostles and presbyters in Jerusalem. Day after day the churches grew stronger in faith and increased in number.\"30 Dvorkin would have intercepted and squelched each decision from those interlopers. The entire New Testament, post-Acts, would collapse into nothing, and Dvorkin would not be around today to chide those who carried out his bidding but went too far. He is worried about it. \"Having ruled the New World Translation to be extremist material, the Vyberg court actually has devalued its own concept of extremism, depriving the specific term of any meaning. Thereby it has wittingly or not made meaningless all prior decisions of courts with similar wordings.\"31\n\nUnfortunately, when you release the hounds of hell, you find that you cannot control just how many they will maul. His confidence that Witnesses will wither in the face of curtailed organizational support calls to mind a similar taunt to God in Scripture: Take away Job's support system and see whether he will not curse God to his face.32 If it were not for the fact that real people are involved with real blood and real freedom to lose, this writer might almost say: \"Bring it on!\" Witnesses tend to rise to the occasion when they think they are proving God true and Satan a liar. \"Be wise, my son, and bring joy to my heart; then I can answer anyone who treats me with contempt.\"33 Though they may fall back, they historically regroup. Even though the enemy breaks both their legs, he finds that the Witnesses will still not betray their God. Dvorkin employs exactly the tactic that has failed since the introduction of Christianity—and he trashes his country's reputation in the process.\n\nThe most prominent Witness refugee to date is Russian punk rocker Fyodor Chistyakov. While on tour in the United States, Chistyakov told Novaya Gazeta in a July 31st telephone interview that he had no other choice but to remain where he was. \"I cannot openly follow my religion [in Russia] now. And that is a trauma itself even when I am not in jail, although incarcerations are taking place already,\" he said.34 In another interview: \"For example, they came to the home of one of my comrades and took away all his computers and a search was conducted in the house. Because he is a member of the organization. This is a nightmare for me. I have a studio in my home and I allowed them to begin during working hours to dig and look for signs of extremism.\"35\n\nHe is known as Dyadya Fyodor (Uncle Fyodor) and has led the groups Nol (Zero) and [of course] the Fyodor Chistyakov Band. The late 1980s and the 1990s was his heyday, but he still commands a following, and he's become nervous in recent years. The 2009 _Beware: Jehovah's Witnesses_ documentary specifically branded him \"a brainwashed sectarian.\"36\n\nJehovah's Witnesses have hitherto not been well represented among the punk rockers. Now that will change as Chistyakov brings his talents to bear. Is it strange that a Witness would be a punk rocker? It is explained if we but interject into the verse: \"To the Jews I became like a Jew to win over Jews; to those under the law I became like one under the law... to win over those under the law. To those outside the law I became like one outside the law... to win over those outside the law. To the weak I became weak, to win over the weak. _To the punk rockers I became a punk rocker, to win over the punk rockers_. I have become all things to all, to save at least some.\" (1 Corinthians 9:20-22)\n\nHe became one of Jehovah's Witnesses in 1995. He credits Bible knowledge with saving him,37 as did the American artist Prince.38 He turned his life around, and stopped drinking, smoking, swearing and singing his earlier raunchy songs, also as did Prince. This turnaround does nothing to mitigate his \"brainwashed sectarian\" label. So atypical is such a turnaround among entertainers, it may have even added to it. \"The only thing when I look in the mirror in the morning, every time I cannot believe that I, Fedor Chistyakov, [am] an extremist and a threat to Russia's national security.\"39\n\nTo be told that God works in mysterious ways simply does not satisfy everyone. For it to be reinforced with: \"It is God and country around here\" also doesn't fly, for some people know that there are other countries, and they are dubious of nationalistic claims that theirs alone is the one that God cheers for. A real hunger roils in ones like Chistyakov, motivating him to learn the Bible. They are not satisfied with: \"If we want to learn of the Bible, we'll go to the main Church. If they choose not to explain it, that's their business. If, when they do explain it, it makes no sense—well, that's probably why they didn't want to explain it in the first place. We're okay with that. Enough with the 'God' obsession—it's too much.\" That's frank, and can be admired at least for its frankness, but it does not satisfy everyone.\n\nChistyakov even took some heat online from some political anti-Putin types for not condemning the government. Far from condemning it, he stated he is supportive of it in all but the Witness ban that makes his life untenable. He is most sorry to leave. He is neutral on two counts; as a Jehovah's Witness and very likely as an artist. Artists consumed with their art do not have much space left in their heads for politics, and sometimes none at all. It is not easy to leave one's homeland. People are a product of what they are fed. If he has learned of malfeasance on the home front that activists want him to holler about, Russian media doubtless highlights plenty of malfeasance elsewhere to counterbalance it.\n\nNobody would stay anywhere if they tallied up all the evils of their home governments. A prime reason that ones becomes Witnesses in the first place is that they recognize malfeasance everywhere that no government can snuff out. To harp too much over this or that instance of it is to miss the point. The real drama is being played out in the spiritual realm above. \"For our struggle is not with flesh and blood but with the principalities, with the powers, with the world rulers of this present darkness, with the evil spirits in the heavens\"—we revisit Paul's words to the Ephesians.40 It is ever that way. Zealots become aware of an injustice, and assume that theirs should take preeminence, as though no other exists. People tend to forgive their own county and fixate only on the wrongs of the other country. Occasionally, it works in reverse.\n\nThe world loves celebrity and will even cut Witness celebrities a little slack, of whom there are precious few anyway. Witness detractors will not cut them slack; they will wait for the slightest misstep to launch the taunt that _a celebrity_ can get away with this or that, but just wait till the ordinary Joe Witness tries it. Still, the world in general likes them. Even Selina Williams, in the skimpiest of attire, beating the stuffing out of all comers, would praise Jehovah loudly in public, and people would dismiss it as a quirk, unsure as to whether she had taken to the faith she was raised in or not, and not particularly concerned either way. The punk rocker generated floods of rare positive publicity in the Russian press following his exile in the West.\n\nLawyers for Jehovah's Witnesses defended their cause well, and the world was witness to it. Whether it was the April 20th trial, the July 17th appeal, or the Vyborg ban of the New World Translation, Witnesses produced the facts to establish their innocence. Prosecutors admitted time and again that they had no evidence to back up their assertions. The judges then found the Witnesses guilty. They knew what they had to do.\n\nI am sorry to hear it, and not just for the right reason. I am sorry to hear it for Russia's sake, too—something which should be none of my concern. Nonetheless, I am saddened to see a great nation so clearly paint itself not-great and show itself contemptuous of universally recognized human rights. They have become like the boor who \"may not know art, but he knows what he likes.\" Indeed, they have surpassed him, for art is subjective, but plain facts are not. One is even reminded of dissidents speaking of the enforcers in harsh lands: \"What is important is that they can force you to acknowledge that they define reality. They really don't care whether you believe their lie or not.\"\n\nWould they deprive Russian Witnesses of their coordinating organization, under the guise of protecting them? It is as though an enemy king seeks to benefit Russian soldiers by depriving them of their army. He has no problem with the soldiers as disconnected individuals. Perhaps they can even be absorbed that way. It is no more than the Russian king playing his part in the grand scheme of the 2nd Psalm: \"Kings on earth rise up and princes plot together against the LORD and against his anointed one: Let us break their shackles and cast off their chains from us!\" The LORD and his anointed one work tirelessly to provide support for their people, though a channel they have established. \"Let us disrupt that channel,\" says the king, \"Let us break their shackles and cut off their chains, so that we can present our version of reality unopposed.\"\n\nJehovah's Witnesses, who feel that they must persevere, have reverted to pre-1991 techniques, when there was also never a question of their giving up. Some of these have been interviewed. As in the old days, they say they must watch for police, who not only would harass them but also turn a blind eye to civilian violence. As in the old days, they must brace to combat the perception, which had never disappeared, that they are instruments of the West. Some have related how their parents and grandparents had been sent to Siberian gulags, almost with the honored air that they may now carry on the family tradition.\n\nOthers have told of how they had become Witnesses during the period of freedom. After the fall of the Soviet Union, religion was finally no longer off limits, and people started asking questions about God. The notion that they might actually understand the Bible intrigued some. They related how they had been cautious at first, for fear they might be enmeshed in a cult, for they had heard the warnings and did not blow them off as nothing. But the idea of no ritual, only a discussion group of questions and answers, piqued their interest and ultimately drew them.41\n\nChivchalov, the one who covered proceedings with tweets, was among them. Baptized in 1996, he explains of his initial contact with the Witnesses: \"I was immediately attracted by the logic and reasonableness of the presentation. All this contrasted sharply with the perception of religion that I had before that: something gloomy, confused, mixed with strange rituals, 'for old ladies,' and so forth....I unexpectedly discovered for myself that the Bible gives absolutely reasonable answers to important questions and formulates an integral and logical picture of the world. For example, before that I did not find anywhere a more logical explanation for the nature of evil than in the Bible.\" He came to appreciate what he termed \"genuine Christian qualities\" among the Jehovah's Witnesses. \"These are brotherly love, mutual help, a serious attitude to the study of the Bible, treating it as a handbook and guide for all areas of life, and zeal in the work of evangelism. All of this is today in great deficit among other Christian churches.\"\n\n\"What do I feel?\" he continues in interview. \"I feel a great responsibility to do everything in my power to help my brothers and sisters in Russia, to consecrate the name of God and to establish His Kingdom. This is the main thing that we do, in whatever country we live, no matter what the circumstances. This is what always unites us as a world brotherhood.\"42 Of course! He is bringing his gift to the altar. He is in the right place at the right time, with the right prerequisite skills, but he is otherwise no different than the eight million persons, ordinary for the most part, who jumped at the chance to write President Putin and five others when given opportunity. He even hails back to the woman at Simon's house who anointed the Lord with costly oil. It aggravated some, but Jesus said: \"Why do you make trouble for the woman? She has done a good thing for me.\"43\n\n\"A lot of people started when the Soviet Union was destroyed, to find what is written in the Bible,\" another recalled. \"[Talking about religion] became open. After the Soviet Union fell, you could talk about God openly — no problem! That was very interesting [to me] — [I wondered] what was inside [the Bible]?\" Another said how his religion in Soviet times had been communism throughout those times, when he had served in the army. By degrees, after \"Russians firing on Russians\" during the Soviet collapse, he came to think of Jehovah as the \"great geopolitician.\" He related how he had always felt the stirrings of religious longing but had not yet become a true believer, though his wife was studying with Witnesses. Only when she started to preach did his new stirrings cement themselves into reality. Now the world is a chess board to him, with God the ultimate player.44\n\nRussians like chess. One is reminded of a certain Isaac Bashevis Singer story, in which during czarist times, a certain Polish Jew (Poland was then under czarist control) viewed all of life as a chess game against God. The latter would crush him with every move, but it wasn't all bad. Nobody wants to waste their time on an unworthy opponent, he pointed out, and it was a great honor playing against God. He felt especially honored when he, a handyman, was summoned to the apartment of a drop-dead gorgeous woman to fix a window casing. The woman was ill, and it was necessary for the man to mount a stepladder and reach over her while she was resting on the couch. He slipped and fell on top of her! Belt buckles locked, and they could not separate! At that moment the door flew open and the woman's insanely jealous brute of a husband appeared. His eyes widened. As he charged with fists clenched, our hero had time for but one final thought: \"Masterful move, God! Absolutely brilliant!\"\n\nWho can resist a people who can think like that? It is Russian as well as Jewish. And it is not so far from the truth. \"When life hands you lemons, make lemonade,\" is the Western saying. Treat it as discipline, regardless of whether it really is that way or not. You will never know, anyway. Allow it to make you a better person.\n\nThe Russian situation is the same play as has played out before. Only the actors are different, and the setting altered. The lead actor who was the Soviet state is replaced by the actor who is the modern establishment. But he has learned the same lines. \"The [state-run] TV and newspapers, they demonize Jehovah's Witnesses,\" says a Witness there. \"But we aren't stopping preaching — and we won't stop preaching,\" adds another. They are not political. \"It doesn't matter who is the president. Just don't touch us. We don't want to change the president. We have to pray for the [leaders] — that they can manage the country with wisdom,\" they say.45 Of course! Governments of this system are God's ministers for doing good—for maintaining public order. Pray that they may do a good job.46\n\nHaving said that, one of the interviewees alluded to the prophet Daniel, who long ago served an unbelieving king. \"Daniel, he had good days, he had bad days,\" he said. \"But he held to his faith. Every day, he served God. The biblical word he uses in Russian, 'spastayanstvom,' has the connotation of a donkey: day by day, turning in circles to mill the grain. The meaning? Daniel was stubborn....Now we have bad day in Russia,\" he says. \"But we will continue to worship God as Daniel did. Thanks to God, Daniel was saved. And he will save us. But who has to worry? The people who put Daniel in the lion's den. They had to worry. Because when Daniel was released from the lion's place, the bad people were killed by the king — you see what I mean?\" Another adds: \"So, the people who do the same things in Russia have to worry. Not us. Jehovah's Witnesses survived in Hitler's time. In Stalin's time. We survived gulags. Siberia. We have a God. The people who persecute us—they're the ones who have to worry.\"47\n\nA new normal is taking place throughout Russia that is really just the old normal reasserting itself after a brief respite. In September it was reported that two Jehovah's Witnesses were arrested while out for a walk. Police had been canvassing homes of local Witnesses to find out whether they had been visited by other Witnesses. A man recognized the two as Jehovah's Witnesses \"who are forbidden\" and reported them to police. They were questioned for hours and later detained on the charge of disobeying a policeman by refusing to get into the vehicle—although there was no vehicle.48\n\nIn Belgorod, on February 7, 2018, groups of police including even the SOBR (Special Rapid Response Unit, apparently similar to the SWAT teams of the United States) invaded several private residences. \"In some cases citizens were thrown on the floor, put to the wall, then all were forcibly taken to the police, in the homes they searched.\" 3300 kilometers to the east, it was the same. \"In Kemerovo... armed SOBR officers in masks opened their doors by force, bursting in, putting civilians face to the wall with their arms raised or falling to the floor.\" Those accosted were not allowed to make a phone call, nor invite a lawyer, and the senior police office told them: \"We are not in America.\" Women and the elderly were among those interrogated. Some \"experience[d] a state close to shock. Many have exacerbated chronic diseases. Telephones, tablets, computers, personal belongings, information carriers [were] confiscated.\"49\n\nA 1951 report of the U.S.S.R. Minister of State Security Viktor Abakumov to Joseph Stalin told of progress in combatting the Witnesses: \"During the years 1947-1950, the MGB bodies uncovered and liquidated several anti-Soviet organizations and groups of illegal Jehovist sect that conducted active hostile work....However, the remaining illegal sectarians continue conducting active anti-Soviet work and again take measures to strengthen the sect.\" A report in 2016, 65 years later, updates the same resumed struggle: \"Despite the preventive measures taken, the activity of structural subdivisions of the Administrative Center [of Jehovah's Witnesses in Russia] continues revealing signs of extremism....Appropriate measures to eliminate the causes and conditions conducive to their extremist activity are not taken for a long time.\" The warning is issued by the General Prosecutor's Office of the Russian Federation, March 2, 2016. All new news is but updated old.50\n\nIt is not everywhere. There are hot spots. Most Witnesses have merely tightened an already cautious deportment. They now must look over their shoulder more than in the past. They still laugh. It occurs to this writer, who is far away, that current raids hint at the Jewish pogroms of long ago, which were very bad when they happened, but they did not always happen. You never know, however, when the driver will step on the gas.\n\nThe Russian-speaking member of the Governing Body, Mark Sanderson, hosted a report on JW Broadcasting directly after the failed appeal. He related how, shortly after the April 20th ban, the Finnish branch committee arranged a convention for about 4000 of their brothers in Russia. Since it was on the spur of the moment, a call went out for hospitality. More than that many beds were offered, plus many who \"called the branch and said 'we'll pay for a hotel room. We don't care who it's for, put whoever you want there, but we want to pay the cost'—so everyone was able to be accommodated.\" Witnesses who had, in some cases traveled 6000 miles from Vladivostok arrived and asked: \"Where is the Russian section?\" They had had no idea that the entire convention was for them, that all of it was in Russian—and Sanderson reports that when they found out, tears broke out on some. 5137 attended and 33 were baptized. Sanderson added: \"And although it is perhaps not their culture, do you know that the Finnish brothers and sisters managed to hug every single brother and sister who came through....And although we all thought we would be crying to see them go back to Russia and the challenges there, you know we just couldn't cry because the brothers were too happy about the convention and there was no one saying 'poor me' they all went back with a joyful spirit, and it moved us.\"\n\nDuring that same program, he told some previously unknown details. He recounted how an international Witness delegation of 18 had been present in the courtroom at the appeal hearing. That much was already known by Witnesses worldwide who had kept abreast. What had not been known was that the delegation had been advised that, in the event of a negative court outcome, they would have to leave Russia that same night. \"Well of course, we didn't know if the hearing would be just that one day or if it would stretch on for other days, so our only choice was to take all of our things with us to the court and if the decision came we would have to make immediate plans to leave Russia. Since they didn't know how long the appeal would last, they brought their luggage with them to court. 'Well sure enough at 7 PM, the negative decision was announced. We had to leave Russia...can you imagine, the last flight out of Russia, and here we are, just after 1 AM when we arrived in Riga, Latvia,\" Sanderson recounted.51\n\nHe is not \"low-level.\" He is one of the Witnesses' Governing Body. And yet, as though he were a common criminal, he is advised that he cannot safely remain in Russia in the event of a negative outcome, lest he want to become Christensen's cellmate. Let no one say members of that body do not risk their very souls for the sake of those they serve. How many of their critics would be willing to put their own skin on the line, knowing they could get stuck in the newly repressive land if there was a hitch?\n\nChapter 4 endnotes\n\nReturn to Table of Contents\n\n# Chapter 5 – Endurance\n\nDuring the 1940s, after the U.S. Supreme Court held that American Witness children could be required to salute the flag, a wave of violent reprisals broke out from ordinary citizens suddenly turned thugs. Elanor Roosevelt, wife of the President, spoke out to stay the violence.1 So did the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU), declaring: \"It is high time we came to our senses regarding this matter of flag-saluting. Jehovah's Witnesses are not disloyal Americans....They are not given to law-breaking in general, but lead decent, orderly lives, contributing their share to the common good.\"2\n\nAlarmed over what they had unleashed, three years later the Court, with several new members, overturned their own decision. Foregleams of it had already appeared. \"Ordinarily we would feel constrained to follow an unreversed decision of the Supreme Court of the United States, whether we agreed with it or not....The developments with respect to the Gobitis case, however, are such that we do not feel it is incumbent upon us to accept it as binding authority,\" stated a lower court (United States District Court for the Southern District of West Virginia), as a similar case wended its way toward the top Court. There, the prior decision was reversed by a 6:3 majority, and the verdict was announced on Flag Day, June 14, 1943.3 Will there similarly emerge men of conscience in Russia, who cannot abide what they have unleashed?\n\nSchoolteachers and principals in Russia have turned upon Witness children; persecution is not confined to adults and the Devil is not tender-hearted. Children become the new pawns. One 8-year-old girl's parents were summoned to her school after she had sung a Witness song and talked about God to classmates. She was threatened with expulsion. In Ufa a policeman demanded a Witness mother explain why she \"involves minors in extremist activities\" as the eldest daughter recorded the conversation on her cell phone camera. In the Rostov region, a teacher sent a 14-year-old girl to the principal's office, having previously confiscated her phone. There a police officer began to tell the girl that her mother forces her to go to a \"terrorist organization\" in which \"they are robbed\" and \"are taught to kill people.\" The officials brought the child to tears, in asserting that Jehovah's Witnesses would \"take control of her and send her to blow up the school,\" and that she should \"show her mother her individuality and not go to meetings.\"\n\nAnother teacher told a child who had refused to sing a song heralding the military: \"You are now banned and we are already fed up with your religion.\" To her mother she reiterated \"You are now extremists and there will be no indulgence.\" At the family's request, she allowed a song about nature to substitute for a music lesson but lowered the child's grade on that account. A Witness once living at St. Petersburg Bethel (the Administrative Center) told of yet another 8-year-old girl who was forced by her school principal to sing a patriotic song at school in front of her classmates. Bullying children has become the new norm.4\n\nIt is the same scene in Russia that once played out in the United States. As brainwashing ever does, thought is replaced by rote. In the chain of events leading up to the United States Gobitis decision over the pledge to the flag, one Coronel Moss noted: \"Another form that false patriotism frequently takes is so-called Flag-worship—blind and excessive adulation of the Flag as an emblem or image—super-punctiliousness and meticulosity in displaying and saluting the Flag—without intelligent and sincere understanding and appreciation of the ideals and institutions it symbolizes. This of course is but a form of idolatry, a sort of 'glorified idolatry,' so to speak. When patriotism assumes this form, it is nonsensical and makes the 'patriot' ridiculous.\"5\n\nAnother court went on to observe that \"there are schools all over the United States in which the pupils have to go through the ceremony of pledging allegiance to the flag every school day. It would be hard to devise a means more effective for dulling patriotic sentiment than that. This routine repetition makes the flag-saluting ceremony perfunctory and so devoid of feeling; and once this feeling has been lost it is hard to recapture it for the 'high moments' of life.\"6\n\nWould the enemies of Jehovah's Witnesses accuse them of brainwashing? Just who are the real brainwashers? Is it truly a fine thing that children of each nation must sing their respective patriotic song and salute their respective flag? Is it truly a gift from God to divide people in such a way? Start when they are young, for is that not the most effective time to brainwash?\n\n\"Officials who were already inclined to take action against Jehovah's Witnesses are now emboldened, and ordinary people who have long disliked them are also emboldened,\" said Felix Corley, a Norway-based religious rights activist. Within a month of the ban, assaults on Witnesses became legion. One enraged man in Belgorod shouted \"You have been banned\" as he repeatedly punched a Witness in the head, face and upper body. In Lustino, the home of a Witness family was burned to the ground. Outside of Moscow, a plainclothes policeman told Witnesses gathered to worship in a private home that the Court decision meant that they could no longer do so.7\n\nAndrew Sorokowski, a columnist with the Religious Information Service of Ukraine posed the question: Why would a nation of some 144,000,000 risk its international reputation to persecute a religious sect numbering no more than 175,000 followers? The persecution is not illegal, according to its own laws, he points out. The federal law on Combating Extremist Activity punishes \"propaganda of exclusiveness, superiority or inferiority of an individual based on his/her religious identity.\" That law means no one but the Orthodox Church and an approved Jewish, Buddhist and Muslim selection can claim to be the one true path.8\n\nLegally, they can do it. But why would they? The U.S. Commission on International Religious Freedom promptly labeled Russia one of the \"countries of particular concern,\" along with Iran, North Korea, Nigeria, and Sudan.9 There is a reputational price to pay for any nation that would carry so on outrageously. Few are willing to pay it. They do not want to paint themselves before the whole wide world as a land of ruffians dictated to by house religions.\n\nThe most absurd accusations about Russia emanate from Western media these days. Surely a news report that Russia utilized the Pokemon Go game to undermine the American morale takes the cake.10 \"Is there no end?\" Russian outlets have, in effect, asked. \"Is there no accusation too preposterous?\" Unfairly, perhaps, but also predictably, Russia's bullying of all minority religion and the outright ban of one suggests that there is not—that all accusations must be carefully considered. All but the most repressive nations on earth have learned to accommodate the human urge to worship as each individual sees fit. Russia sides with the forces of repression in this regard, and even surpasses them when it bans the Jehovah's Witnesses website as extremist, the only country on earth to do so. Everyone else on the planet can visit and plainly see that it is not. How can Russia not lose face? Everyone know what extremism is and they know that Jehovah's Witnesses are not it.\n\nThe latest one to complain in this way is Sergey Lavrov.11 He grumbles at a press briefing that \"Russia is blamed for everything that goes wrong on this planet.\" Ought he not look in the mirror for the reason? He was among the six officials that Witnesses everywhere were invited to write. He received several million letters. Did they touch his heart? Addressing a question from the media in December of 2017, he said: \"As concerns Jehovah's Witnesses, Russia bans organizations that encourage their supporters to openly break Russian laws. This is exactly what this cult was doing. They were warned several times but they would not listen and continued to involve their members in anti-constitutional activity. There may be no question about this.\"12\n\nLavrov was one of those who received a letter from Bob's Cleaning Service. Say what you will about Bob, but you will never find a more decent, unassuming and honest man. Bob worked hard on his letter—he doesn't write too many of them. Lavrov could have read it, taken it to heart, spoke to his five other friends, and saved his country untold grief. Instead, he sided with the Court expert who scribbles \"any sort of nonsense\" and the anti-cult hero who \"disseminates hate speech\"—that description supplied by Human Rights Without Frontiers.13 If you do this and criminalize 175,000 peaceful citizens who are Jehovah's Witnesses, and then continue to make life miserable for the Pentecostals and the Baptists and the Evangelicals and the Mormons and the Salvation Army and the Adventists and the Roman Catholics and, in fact, any group professing Christianity that is not Russian Orthodox, not to mention non-Christian groups, you cannot say at the press conference \"Why do people think we do bad things?\"\n\nIn one of my individual blog posts that I cobbled together to make Chapter 2, reflecting a time before I was up to speed on so many things, I laid down the challenge: \"If it is to be, let Russian officials look themselves in the mirror and publicly declare: 'I believe, what with all the villains and scoundrels on the loose today in our country and throughout the world, that taking out Jehovah's Witnesses is the most important thing we can do.'\" Mr. Lavrov and his friends rose to the challenge! It is the theme of Fedor Chistyakov's new album, \"Unwanted Song.\" Dyadya Fyodor belts out: \"We'll seize the world later, for now...remove the witnesses!\"\n\nChistyakov, too, is bringing his gift to the altar. He has been busy since his exile, writing and recording music that he never foresaw himself writing and recording, music that for him is a first. \"So we lived to see emigrant music,\" the web source Sobesednik says from Russia. Yes, that's because they chased him away from his homeland. He's holed up in New York, right now, and not by choice. Sobesednik offers the best explanation for his plight that it can envision: \"Chistyakov is an extremist? And what did he do? Never mind.\" It makes no sense at all to them.\n\n\"To the punk rockers I became a punk rocker,\" Paul would have said had he thought of it. No one can say that the cat has got Fedor's tongue. \"The muzzle of a furious red-brown bear [emblazons the cover, along with] biting texts with a lot of allusions and direct analogies with the current Russian reality.\" But Fedor enters a world strange to him. Is this an album of \"defiance,\" as Bershidsky would say? No. It is a tactic of last resort, just as when Chistyakov's eight million brothers wrote to Putin. Who were they to write to Putin? Never in their lives would they have imagined it. They did it when the situation became desperate and an opportunity to do something opened up. It is the same with Chistyakov. \"I'm a believer, and I should not interfere in politics,\" the musician explained to Sobesednik. \"At the same time, I'm not blind, I see what's going on, and I'm terrified of this....Maybe the album will help someone. This album is not a protest. This is the essence of things.\" 14\n\nYes, why would a nation of some 144,000,000 risk its international reputation to persecute a religious sect numbering no more than 175,000 followers? It is a good question. Yet Russia has done so. Religious repression hardly accounts for American media accusations, which are driven more by its own internal concerns. But it suggests to the unpracticed eye that all such accusations just might be true and that there is no accusation too fantastic to be dismissed out-of-hand. On Twitter someone sarcastically writes: \"Don't forget to check under your bed before you go to sleep tonight. There may be a Russian under there ready to give bad dreams.\" \"Thanks for the tip!\" says anyone familiar with the plight of Dennis Christensen, jailed for nearly a full year without trial for merely leading a Bible study, and he peaks under the bed to check. How can people not imagine Russia capable of unlimited villainy? Perhaps whatever they hear is but the tip of the iceberg. It is sad to see the self-inflicted wound of a great nation.\n\nJesus' command is the one to follow, say the Witnesses: \"And this gospel of the kingdom will be preached throughout the world as a witness to all nations and then the end will come,\" he instructs his followers.15 \"Not here!\" this or that king says. \"We have our own religion here. We're good. Peddle it elsewhere!\" I can recall right now a certain local speaker with a dramatic flair, twirling a globe he had brought onstage with him, repeating Jesus words, and then interrupting himself with: \"This gospel of the kingdom _will not_ be preached in my part of the earth,\" and covering with a finger or two the human nation that would defy God. Should nations truly do that? Should they truly seek to neutralize faith? Should they let the house religion tell them that all bases are already covered more than adequately—particularly when it covers none of them with regard to Bible literacy?\n\nIt is not unlike how religious enemies treated Amos of the Old Testament after he uttered words they deemed not patriotic. Priest Amaziah, ever close to the king, \"sent word to Jeroboam, king of Israel: 'Amos has conspired against you within the house of Israel; the country cannot endure all his words.'\" It is the same with Jehovah's Witnesses in Russia. Prominent ones assure Putin that the country cannot endure all their words.\n\nThe answer Amaziah decides upon is to send Amos far away—outside the borders. It is the same answer once arrived at in Russia. \"Off with you, seer, flee to the land of Judah and there earn your bread by prophesying! But never again prophesy in Bethel for it is the king's sanctuary and a royal temple.\" It is not just the high-handed command that rankles; it is also the insult, for Amos does not \"earn his bread\" prophesying, just as Jehovah's Witnesses do not. He works to support himself, just as Jehovah's Witnesses do. His is a humble line of secular work, as is generally true of Jehovah's Witnesses. Amos knows the work that he must do. For some reason, the pre-eminent Amaziah and his bunch have not done it. No matter. Amos will. \"I am not a [paid] prophet, nor do I belong to a company of prophets. I am a herdsman and a dresser of sycamores, but the LORD took me from following the flock, and the LORD said to me, 'Go, prophesy to my people Israel,\" he replies to the lofty one.16 They are humble people, those who God selects; they are not the bombastic bigwigs who love to hog the stage. Is it an absurd play in which herdsmen are the central actors? Yes. But just because something is absurd does not mean that it is untrue.\n\nEnemies make trouble for Jehovah's Witnesses, and the Witnesses simply have to plow through it as best they can. Jesus' direction cannot be shunted aside, not even for the king. Ultimately, if he stops them, he stops them. They then become an example of Jesus' other words: \"If they have persecuted me, they will persecute you.\"17\n\nOn behalf of her country, Russian Parliament Council member Lyudmila Narusova submitted a paper (July 2017) to the Organization for Security and Co-operation in Europe Parliamentary Assembly calling for others to show religious tolerance. It is another Kafkaesque event: taking the tolerance lead publicly while running in just the opposite direction privately.\n\n\"Today political, religious and public figures should make efforts to prevent intolerance and discrimination on a religious basis. There is nothing worse than sectarian strife, and history has shown that many times,\" the head of Russian delegation told that body. The resolution pointed out each person's rights on the freedom of thought, religion and beliefs called for interreligious dialogue. It even added that terror attacks committed by followers of a particular religion cannot justify religious intolerance.18 It's unbelievable!\n\nThe 2017 Russian resolution dovetails with and even surpasses a statement of Vladimir Lenin made prior to the Bolshevik revolution of 1917, exactly 100 years ago: \"Everybody must be perfectly free, not only to profess whatever religion he pleases, but also to spread or change his religion. No official should have the right even to ask anyone about his religion: that is a matter for each person's conscience, and no one has any right to interfere.\"19\n\nIs it blatant hypocrisy? Is it one hand that doesn't know what the other is doing? Is it internal discord within the government? It is nothing that this writer can figure out. Adding a note of further irony, Ms. Narusova's now deceased husband was once considered a prime mentor of Vladimir Putin, in earlier post-glasnost days.20\n\nFurther indicating either that opposition to Witnesses is not monolithic or that the right hand does not know what the left is doing, or that it knows it very well but is content to send a signal—is the letter received by two Jehovah's Witness elders from the Sergiev Posad City Prosecutor's office, with apologies: \"On behalf of the state, I bring you an official apology for the moral damage caused to you, connected with unreasonable criminal prosecution under art. 282 part 2....You have the right to demand the sending of written statements about the decision that justifies you, at the place of work, study or place of residence. In the event that information about...the illegal actions you have been applied to have been published in the press, distributed by radio, television or other media, you have the right to require the relevant mass media to make a report on rehabilitation.\" Furthermore, their names and that of other believers have been removed from the list of \"persons for whom there is evidence of their involvement in extremist activities.\"21\n\nThis favorable decision toward the Witnesses was arrived at after years of investigation, trial, acquittal, and renewed trial. In 2010, two agents posing as persons interested in Bible study secretly recorded the program at the area Kingdom Hall. \"Overcome evil, restrain anger,\" and \"What reputation do you deserve before God,\" were the themes then discussed. The same expert—the mathematics teacher, who would later testify to the Vyborg court that the New World Translation was extremist—testified that these two meetings also contained content that was extremist. For three years, authorities in Moscow disagreed, but in 2013 they reversed themselves. The two men were arrested at their respective homes. The first court acquitted them and found the experts biased against Witnesses. This judgment was appealed to an appellate court which also acquitted them. From start to finish the ordeal lasted seven years, and the inclusion of one on the extremism list caused his loss of employment.22\n\nIt turns out that the Court expert is an \"expert\" on many things. Olga Nikitova, of the Agency of Political News, says that she \"undertakes any research in the field of linguistics, culture, social sciences and even sexology and heraldry.\" She and her colleagues are rather like hired guns, mercenaries; her expertise, which Nikitova calls \"malignant expertise,\" was rejected by the Sergiyev Posad court as \"inconsistent, biased, contradictory and unacceptable.\" Several months later a member of the St. Petersburg Chamber of Lawyers filed an application with the Investigative Committee to initiate criminal proceedings against her and her fellows. Vladimir Ryakhovsky, member of the Presidential Council for Human Rights, further complained of the \"abuse of this expert, the dishonesty of this expert.\"\n\nIt is \"nice work if you can get it,\" to quote the popular George Gershwin song. \"Examinations are a profitable business: each examination is paid by tens, or even hundreds of thousands of rubles from the state budget,\" says Nikitova. Alexander Verkhovsky, director of the information-analytical center _Owl_ , further writes that \"they are just legendary experts who are ready to write about anything, absolutely anything. For that, in fact, they are loved by customers. They write quickly their expertise and with the result that is always necessary.\" He is embarrassed for the entire Russian justice system that makes such ready use of them.23\n\nSomewhere I read (and cannot find it again) the Witness resolve: \"We will continue to declare the good news tactfully.\" Is it a concession—to do it tactfully? It has always been the goal—though perhaps not always. When Witnesses paraded around 80 years ago with placards emblazoned with: \"Religion is a Snare and a Racket!\" that was hardly tactful, was it? Still, all things must be considered in their context; the placards were displayed amidst the backdrop of the two World Wars, throughout which the major Christian faiths played major supporting roles on both sides.24\n\nWho is it among the Witnesses who said: \"You should strive for truth and tact. But if you have to sacrifice one, sacrifice tact,\"—who said that? Was it Nathan Knorr, the third Watchtower President? Or is the entire line apocryphal? There will be more emphasis on tact today, but not at the expense of truth. Let's face it, tactfulness doesn't come easily to some of our people. They are real people, coming from the real rough and tumble world. They are not from the airy world of etiquette, of people who have come to realize that they must behave, if only superficially, so as to advance in their careers. There is only so much tact you can muster when telling people that their goose is cooked if they remain where they are. But Witnesses try. The goose of human rulership is indeed cooked. The training to preach is in place, and members improve over time. \"Don't sacrifice truth, but let your words be winsome, and not wincing,\" they are coached.25 Set up literature carts, where persons can approach you instead of you them. Set up a website so that they can do the same.\n\nIt is not a piece of cake to perform such a ministry. It does not come naturally. The average Witness is an average person, not given to diplomacy, often conscious of inequality, much as Amos was, and much as Jeremiah was: \"Ah, Lord GOD!\" I said, \"I do not know how to speak. I am too young!\" But the LORD answered me, Do not say, \"I am too young.\" To whomever I send you, you shall go; whatever I command you, you shall speak. Do not be afraid of them, for I am with you to deliver you—oracle of the LORD. Then the LORD extended his hand and touched my mouth, saying to me, See, I place my words in your mouth! Today I appoint you over nations and over kingdoms, to uproot and to tear down, to destroy and to demolish, to build and to plant.\"26\n\nRussia is not a Western country and thus is not so enamored with human rights as are its Western counterparts. Some feel the prospects of Jehovah's Witnesses there are doomed on that account. Why go there? Plenty of people suffer harm in places where human rights supposedly carry the day; they are simply _different_ people. One should never forget the dictum that a \"king's heart is channeled water in the hand of the LORD; God directs in where he pleases.\" Vladimir Putin is a national leader, but he is also a man with a heart.27\n\nSometimes a powerful person will overturn an established opinion of Jehovah's Witnesses based upon personal contact with one of them. During the 1960s civil rights era of the United States, Alabama governor George Wallace was considered the epitome of racism. A black American Witness who regularly called upon him did not remember him that way. Concluding a conversation with Wallace, he heard upon returning to those in his car rumors that the Ku Klux Klan planned to disrupt an upcoming circuit assembly. He returned to Mr. Wallace, by then engaged in discussion with State Police authority. Upon hearing the man's concern, Wallace directed the lawman to see to it. The story could be apocryphal, but I doubt it. It was related by someone too guileless to lie.\n\nJust prior to a meeting with the circuit overseer, local pioneers were engaged in hubbub over the challenge of witnessing to certain ones considered opposed. John Wayne's name came up. An uber-patriotic American film star, everyone assumed he would be hostile. The circuit overseer corrected everyone with his observation of how, in a prior circuit, a Witness had called on Mr. Wayne, who could not have been more polite or respectful. He had the highest regard for Witnesses, he told his visitor, and expressed the frank regret that he felt unable to live up to their standards. It is likely due to his friendship with Mickey Spillane, to whom he gave a Jaguar automobile. Spillane, author of the most shockingly violent fiction of his time, became a Witness in 1952, and his work thereafter pivoted 180 degrees. He worked in entertainment venues for the duration of his life—sometimes with John Wayne.\n\nOkay, it's a bit of a stretch to say that Putin is on some Witness's return visit route. I won't say it. However, perhaps at the next Kremlin picnic he will run across his 3rd cousin twice removed who will tell him about the wonderful Jehovah's Witness who returned his ruble-stuffed wallet he had accidentally dropped on one particularly hectic day.\n\nThe point is, there can always be a human connection, just as there was when Median king Ahasuerus thwarted a decision to kill off the Jews in his realm. \"If you do not act,\" Mordecai had told his niece Esther, \"salvation for the Jews will arise from some other source. But how do you know that you have been placed where you are for the very purpose of your speaking out?\"—and she thereafter did speak out.28 In the same way, there was a human connection when Cyrus was shown the scripture foretelling the action he had just taken in overthrowing Babylon; Josephus relates the account. It was just that way when Saul, the former chief persecutor of Christians, did an about face, and became their foremost advocate. That one even went beyond a human connection, but who is to say that the other ones did not as well?29\n\nWill Putin become an Ahasuerus or a Cyrus? I'm not holding my breath. Still, stranger things have happened and you never know how things will turn out. \"The kings of the earth take their stand as one against Jehovah and his anointed one,\" says Psalm 2. You never know when a given king will read ahead and not want to play that game. Saul, holding high religious office, came to do a complete turn-around and wrote with regret of how he had once been a \"blasphemer, persecutor and an arrogant man.\"30\n\nWhen Charles T. Russell, widely traveled, visited the Russian field in the late 1800s, he saw little prospect for the kingdom hope to catch on there. \"In Russia the government holds an intolerably tight grip on every man in the empire. And the stranger within their gates is always to them a suspicious character. His passport must be produced at every hotel and railway station before entering or leaving a city or town. The hotel proprietor receives your passport and hands it over to the Chief of Police, he retains it until you are ready to leave, so that any stranger could be readily traced as to just when he entered or left the country. Officers and authorities are simply civil, indicating that your presence is only tolerated, and any books or papers in your possession are carefully scrutinized to make sure that nothing in them is calculated to interfere with their ideas.\"31 Yet look at what happened. By the time of 1991 legal registration, Witnesses numbered 45,000. They made hay while the sun was shining and grew to 175,000 in 26 years. Who is to say those days are finished?\n\nHaving declared the New World Translation of the Bible extremist, the next step was to make a grab for all Witness religious property. An unexpected glitch arose when reaching for the crown jewel in St. Petersburg, the administrative center complex of buildings that has been valued at $15 million (US).32 It was discovered that it was foreign-owned. The center had been specifically denied representation at the April 20th trial on that basis—that they were a foreign entity and thus the trial did not concern them. Now in order to seize the facilities, that rationale had to be reversed.\n\nIt was done without too much fuss. Since there was close cooperation between the Center and local witnesses, it was deemed that Russian interests owned it after all, and so it could be confiscated without creating an international incident. This was despite the fact that the foreign owners in New York had made regular tax payments for seventeen years, per the terms of the original agreement.\n\nDenis Korotkov, writing for fontanka.ru, summed matters up this way: \"In the resort area, the prosecutor's office and the court made a gift to Jehovah's Witnesses. The property is worth...about 2 billion rubles. As a result, the American church lost its burdensome property and received almost one hundred percent chance of a generous return. International scandal—a bonus.\" What Mr. Korotkov is saying is that Russia is giving the Watchtower Society a \"gift\" in the form of a sure international scandal now and a generous financial return on their seized assets once that scandal has forced the government's hand to undo the mischief they have just done. In the meantime, the 14-building complex that was a burdensome property for the Watchtower, since they could no longer use it but had to maintain it, no longer is. What appears to be a lose-lose for the Watchtower he reframes as a win-win. The article goes on to say that if Russian higher courts uphold the property grab, \"there will inevitably be an appeal in European and American jurisdictions, and Russia will have to pay. Given the legal costs and fines, the amount can significantly exceed the cost of the complex in Solnechny.\"33\n\nWill the court decision be appealed outside of Russia? \"Yaroslav Sivulsky, representative of the European Association of Christian Witnesses of Jehovah, one of those who defended in the courtroom, spoke about expropriation. 'Of course, we will appeal this decision. It is based on nothing, except the desire of the prosecutor's office to simply seize the property. We did not hear a single legal argument. This is expropriation. Russia encourages foreign business to invest in the country, but what investments can be made if the property is not protected and can be seized at any time?'\"34\n\nThis writer agrees with Korotkov and is of the unusual opinion that if you are going to ban the Jehovah's Witness organization in Russia, then it is a good thing, not a bad thing, to also ban the New World Translation and seize the Administrative Center buildings. Each action draws in people who might not otherwise care. Human rights people protest when Witness activity is banned, but it is partly offset by: \"Well, they _are_ a pain and they _do_ call unannounced at the most inconvenient times.\"\n\nBut when you ban the Bible—even ringleader Dvorkin thought that was going too far.35 It plainly is a Bible; he doesn't like it, but it plainly is one. He says, in effect: \"We cut them off from U.S. organizational and monetary support. That's enough. Break both their legs and they will die! You don't ban the Bible as well, which will only make us look like a country of backward rednecks.\" I say ban it for exactly that reason. Let the sensible people of Russia observe how the anti-cult ideologues have sullied their reputation.\n\nThe academic community couldn't believe it. The Russian expert witness, who \"copies any sort of nonsense\" off the Internet, which thereby becomes \"essentially plagiarism,\"36 had the court believing it wasn't a Bible because it said: \"Holy Scriptures\" on the cover and not \"Bible!\" In her voluminous expert analysis that she said took 287 days to complete, how could she have missed that the Forward of the Russian edition plainly states that it is a translation of the Bible? Witness attorneys asked her that. She attacked the use of God's name—nothing will get Jehovah's Witnesses going more than that—fretting that \"in the New World Translation, the dominant factor is the 'Jehovah concept.'\" Whereupon Witness attorneys had the judge reading from ten different Russian translations that also say \"Jehovah,\" creating the appearance of a \"well-prepared Bible study,\" said Moses Adjubage, who was present and later interviewed on JW Broadcasting.37\n\nFaithful Chivchalov, who tweets like Trump, also covered the hearings, and one gets the sense that it is not easy for him. Let us join the poor fellow, so that he does not lose his mind. With but a few superfluous tweets omitted, he says, all on a single December day:38\n\nAll experts who previously declared #NWT extremist came to testify to the court. Also representatives of US, UK, and Netherlands.\n\nThe experts will testify from Moscow on video conference call. #NWT\n\nSwitzerland embassy representatives also came. Europe wants to know what is wrong with Russia. #NWT\n\nThis time a larger court room is used, more people are able to attend. #NWT\n\nA real philology expert, Anatoli Baranov, who defended #NWT at the lower court, is allowed to testify from Moscow too.\n\n_Let's hope Internet won't go down as he will start speaking. #NWT_ [Chivchalov is not personally present but is monitoring the proceedings online.]\n\nJW attorney explains that previously 2 believers were criminally charged based on these false experts study (Kruykova, Batov, Kotelnikov). Later the study was found erroneous, and they were acquitted. #NWT\n\nSorry, the experts in that case were Kryukova, Tarasov, Kotelnikov. While the #NWT experts are Kryukova, Batov, Kotelnikov. They are essentially one team. They produced more than 50 studies against JWs in Russia in various cases.\n\nAttorney files motion for disqualification of these \"experts\" as incompetent based on 280-page brief. #NWT\n\nCourt rejects motion for disqualification of the experts. #NWT\n\nJudge asks questions to N. Kryukova: Why is the book you studied has different titles in the study, sometimes Russian, sometimes English? - This was an error. #NWT\n\nJudge: What does the English word \"Greek Scriptures\" mean? N.K. It means \"Gospels.\" #NWT #facepalm\n\nJudge: Is it a Bible? N.K. This is not a Bible from the viewpoint of traditional Christianity, but a sacred text of Jehovah's Witnesses only. #NWT\n\nJW attorney asks Kryukova why she thinks #NWT is not a Bible. She replies: the Bible is only a translation with the ROC Patriarch blessing or a book 100% consistent with such a translation.\n\nJudge: How can we know which translation is bad? Expert Tarasov: It can be determined on the basis of the activity it produces. If this activity is bad, the translation is bad as well. #NWT\n\nJudge asks expert Baranov to clarify. He replies there is a lot of criteria, but the one stated by Tarasov is unknown to him. This is the end of the experts' testimony. #NWT\n\nBut on hearing all this nonsense, judge rejects the motion to order a new study of the #NWT with new experts.\n\nCourt rejects the JW attorneys' motion to ask the Constitutional Court to clarify what the Bible is. #NWT\n\nBut court accepts the motion to file new proofs of the plagiarism of the study based on Wikipedia analysis (yep, the study has numerous quotes from Wikipedia). #NWT\n\nIt's paradoxical that Kryukova's study doesn't contain a single quote from the #NWT it studies! But the court doesn't seem to care about it.\n\nThe court also doesn't care that Kryukova and her team claim to have studied the Russian #NWT version but quoted Wikipedia about the English version which are technically two different books.\n\nJW attorney points out studies of #NWT by authoritative scholars and reviews of Kryukova's own study that show serious flaws of it.\n\nOne such study stated: \"[Kryukova's text] shows that it is not JWs who are hostile to other religions but Kryukova and her colleagues are hostile to JWs.\" #NWT\n\nProsecutor: \"#NWT defendants pursue only one goal - to engage the court in religious debates about what is God, Bible, and religion, which is inacceptable.\"\n\nThat's all, the judges leave to discuss the ruling. Almost 10 pm on the clock. #NWT\n\nOh and here is the ruling: leave the decision of the lower court in force, reject the appeal. #NWT\n\nSo friends, if you live in Russia and want to ban something, all you need is a math teacher who knows how to use Wikipedia. The ruling will be appealed in Supreme Court now. Stay tuned!\n\nIt is good that Chivchalov showed endurance. Let the record reflect that nobody in that courtroom knew anything of biblical scholarship and their expert witness used that fact to showcase them all as ignoramuses before the world. See if they will thank her for that the next time they are laughed off some academic stage. She stated: \"The only book that can be called a Bible is one approved by the Russian Orthodox Church and that is marked by the blessing of the Patriarch or that matches word for word that translation.\" Good. Let them explain before educated people how they went along with her on that one. \"Again and again we had the impression sitting there in the courtroom that the purpose of the hearing was not to establish the facts or evidence but to go through the legal formalities quickly since the decision had been already made and was to be announced today,\" said Adjubage. It took the judges four minutes to review seven hours of testimony before giving their decision.\n\nThe decision regarding the branch headquarters draws in the potentially much more influential business community. I say it is a good thing for them to seize the building. It cannot serve its intended function anyway. Let it serve its new function of calling attention to theft. Let the business community reflect upon how, should they upset the government, their assets might be seized. Within days a Finnish business delegation being courted by Russia for investment had declared it \"a very bad sign.\"38 Mr. Devine related that the hearing was in a small cramped room where \"our attorneys and prosecutors literally were two feet apart facing each other over a small table.\" Several congregation members who attended to offer support were relegated to the small barred holding area for criminals, where they might find themselves at any rate for a related reason on another day.\n\nIf you are going to go unjust, do it big time and make sure everyone knows. The Governing Body saw to it that the initial trial was videotaped in the largest venue possible. The sham nature of Russian justice toward kingdom interests has been exposed there. At one point the Russian judge asked the Ministry of Justice whether it had prepared for the trial, so unsupported by facts did the prosecution appear. In the end, he did what he knew he had to do if he wanted to keep his job, but his interaction with them clearly exposed a sham system, and that exposure was repeated at the appeal, repeated again at the hearing over the Bible, and again at the decision to confiscate the branch headquarters. And it was repeated in the case in the imprisonment without trial of Dennis Christensen, a dangerous criminal that everyone can plainly see is not.\n\nA lot of people don't like Jehovah's Witnesses. They are a hot-button topic in several ways. But they do know that rule by law and even common sense is a good thing, not a bad thing, and when they see it so blatantly violated, some get more worked up than they would over the Witnesses themselves.\n\nChapter 5 endnotes\n\nReturn to Table of Contents\n\n# PART II\n\n# Chapter 6 – Statecraft\n\nThe year 1962 nearly brought nuclear war to the world. America armed Turkey and Italy, but then discovered the Soviet Union doing the same in Cuba. The U.S. declared it would board approaching ships so as to stop that from actually happening.\n\nNikita Khrushchev is remembered in the West as the hothead who pounded his U.N. desktop with his removed shoe and, on another occasion, bellowed: \"We will bury you!\" He meant economically, but the media liked sound bites then no less than now. Was it his telegram that saved the day? At the John F Kennedy Presidential Library is the 2700-word telegram he sent to JFK, dated October 26, 1962.\n\nDear Mr. President:\n\nI have received your letter of October 25. From your letter, I got the feeling that you have some understanding of the situation which has developed and (some) sense of responsibility. I value this.\n\n... _Everyone needs peace: both capitalists, if they have not lost their reason, and, still more, Communists....War is our enemy and a calamity for all the peoples....I have participated in two wars and know that war ends when it has rolled through cities and villages, everywhere sowing death and destruction._\n\n... _Mr. President, do you really seriously think that Cuba can attack the United States and that even we together with Cuba can attack you from the territory of Cuba? Can you really think that way? How is it possible? We do not understand this....You can regard us with distrust, but, in any case, you can be calm in this regard, that we are of sound mind and understand perfectly well that if we attack you, you will respond the same way..._\n\nWe, however, want to live and do not at all want to destroy your country. We want something quite different: To compete with your country on a peaceful basis. We quarrel with you, we have differences on ideological questions. But our view of the world consists in this, that ideological questions, as well as economic problems, should be solved not by military means, they must be solved on the basis of peaceful competition,\n\nIf there is no intention to tighten that knot and thereby to doom the world to the catastrophe of thermonuclear war, then let us not only relax the forces pulling on the ends of the rope, let us take measures to untie that knot. We are ready for this....There, Mr. President, are my thoughts, which, if you agreed with them, could put an end to that tense situation which is disturbing all peoples. These thoughts are dictated by a sincere desire to relieve the situation, to remove the threat of war.\n\nThe superpowers came close. Perhaps it was Khrushchev's telegram that averted catastrophe. Both sides removed missiles and the U.S. promised not to invade Cuba again. We \"lucked out,\" wrote The Week magazine, commenting on the telegram. Pundits will squabble till the end of time as to who was the worst villain or the best hero. It is in the eye of the beholder.\n\nThe little people ever want to get along but the greater interests thwart it. The 1966 movie _The Russians are Coming, the Russians are Coming!_ featured for plotline a Russian submarine stranded off the New England coast. Before chieftains of the West could assume evil intent and retaliate, townspeople, who had taken a liking to the Russians, came to the rescue. They surrounded the sub with every yacht, sailboat, and dingy they could muster to escort the Russians out to sea and out of danger.\n\n_Marooned_ , a 1969 movie, strands American astronauts in space in a crippled spacecraft. All efforts to save them come to naught until Russian cosmonauts come along and haul them onboard their own craft. The air-starved Americans don't know what is going on and try to fend off their rescuers, but in the end, everything works out for the best.\n\nOn the other hand, when filmmaker Oliver Stone showed the satirical _Dr. Strangelove_ to Putin, apparently sneaking glances to see whether Putin would like it, it seemed pretty clear that he didn't. Russian leaders are portrayed as buffoonish in that movie, though not villains. They _were_ portrayed as villains when Students Wildly Indignant over Nearly Everything (S.W.I.N.E—from the comic strip Li'l Abner) effusively met the invading Russian General as he was striding ashore from his transport ship, and the first thing the general did was to kick all their behinds, seemingly for the sheer reason that he was mean. When the cartoonist had Russia send over their skilled negotiator Coldfinger during the 1970s period of detente, a period that cartoonist distrusted, he proved so skilled at negotiating that the Americans were soon stripped of their clothes and were reduced to wearing barrels.\n\nAt Brooklyn Bethel, they likely didn't see the movies—they don't do movies much there—but who could miss Li'l Abner, at one time in 900 daily newspapers? Even those who don't keep up with politics—and that is Bethel—find it hard to resist the funnies.\n\nNotwithstanding a few films, in dozens of tiny ways, and in some big ones, Russia is portrayed as the villain in the U.S. \"Wouldn't it be nice if we actually got along with Russia?\" Trump asked during the 2016 campaign, tacitly acknowledging that the U.S. doesn't. Despite his sentiments and despite his election, U.S.-Russian relations are worse than ever, more mistrustful than even during Cold War times. A 2017 Levada Center poll revealed 68% of Russians consider the United States a threat.1 Putin recently introduced the next generation of nuclear weapons and suggested his countrymen name them. One popular submission was: \"Goodbye America.\"2\n\nIt is hard not to absorb something of the culture in which you live, for it is the air you breathe. If anyone can do it, it is Watchtower headquarters, which is in most respects a world unto its own. They follow politics to an astonishingly small degree. Slate.com accurately gave the reason: \"They don't vote because they are 'representatives of God's heavenly kingdom,'\" it wrote in 2008. \"For the same reason, they don't run for public office, serve in the military, or even pledge allegiance the flag,\" though the pledge issue is more about avoiding idolatry, per the first of the Ten Commandments, than it is about neutrality.3\n\nNations are represented by their ambassadors, and the Bible presents believers that way. They represent _their_ nation, God's kingdom, before others. An ambassador is not to become involved in the politics of his host nation. His role is to represent his own nation. \"So we are ambassadors for Christ, as if God were appealing through us. We implore you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God,\" writes the apostle to the Corinthian congregation.4\n\nAn organization must be based somewhere, and, despite its best efforts, it can pick up the lingo of the host country. One slip-up—say, one reference to the \"iron curtain,\" in those ultra-suspicious Soviet times, was to fuel distrust.5 How can they be neutral? the Russian government grumbled—it's not an iron curtain at all. It's a protective border, was their position. Surely, the Witnesses were a political movement disguised as a religion, they concluded—a suspicion that ran deep in the Cold War period, and still remains. There's bad blood between the governments of the U.S. and Russia. It is long-standing, resulting in Soviet suspicion about any religion headquartered in America.\n\nA plain indication of the Witnesses' neutrality is found in the Watchtower article considered at meetings in early July of 2017. The topic under discussion was how to give aid of a spiritual and practical nature to refugees. \"Listen patiently to their concerns, but do not discuss politics,\" the magazine counseled.6 If ever it was understandable to talk politics, it would be with those who have so recently suffered at its hands, yet it is a topic Witnesses are to avoid as they pursue kingdom interests.\n\nWhen you set up shop in a new country, you find out what the king wants, and then you do it. Usually that suffices to keep both you and him happy. Usually, all he wants are things having to do with public order, which you also want. You go about your necessary business in the new country, modifying it where necessary to avoid misunderstandings. If the king there intrudes upon what are \"God's things,\" matters of worship, then you must take a stand, but in most cases, he does not. Even when he does, you don't take a stand in the form of confrontation. Political protest is just not something Witnesses do. Even Chistyakov releasing his fiery album sought to explain it was not that.\n\nAs already discussed, the book _God's Kingdom Rules_ was considered at Witness meetings throughout 2017, as the Russian ban first threatened and then was realized. Besides the high court cases related in chapter 3, it relates many bans that Jehovah's Witnesses have faced in many parts of the world. In Australia, during the years of World War II, \"Witnesses were unable to meet or preach openly. Bethel operations were closed down, and Kingdom Halls were seized. Merely possessing our Bible literature was prohibited. After operating in secret for several years, the Australian Witnesses found relief at last.\"7 \"You see?\" a local Witness commented at a meeting, \"nothing changed.\" The brothers continued to operate. They simply had to do it \"in secret,\" which was inconvenient, but the ban didn't negate God's command of exclusive devotion. They had to forge ahead at greater-than-normal human cost until the country's High Court reversed the ban. One Russian brother even said that a ban in his country might be a good thing in a spiritual sense, in that it would prod all into vigilance and bring into stark relief just who is on God's side and who isn't.\n\nThough it may seem a technicality, Jehovah's Witnesses are not banned in Russia. The Russian constitution guarantees freedom of worship and the government has not forgotten that. Misunderstanding the nature of Christian worship, or deliberately redefining it, what is liquidated are the legal instruments that Witnesses use—the instruments that, in the eyes of the government, constitute ties to a headquarters outside the Russian border. They are suspicious of that. It is as though to say: \"Nobody is saying you can't drive your Chevy, but why do you need to keep ties to General Motors in Detroit? Yuri's Auto Repair down the street will do just fine. If he doesn't have just the exact part, he can improvise. That way everything is safely and agreeably Russian.\"\n\nAn organization to ensure worldwide unity is an essential component of the Witnesses' spiritual life. Without it, they know they eventually devolve into a hodgepodge of loose cannons each with his own personal relationship with God, each a part of this world in various respects. They become divided along national lines, and the national king inevitably persuades them that he is the hero and his counterpart overseas is the scoundrel. Soon they are further divided along internal political lines. Soon to follow are social lines, racial lines, and economic lines. The way to prevent this is with a centralized overseeing organization. There should be no \"divisions among you,\" Paul wrote to the Corinthians, adding \"that you may be united in the same mind and in the same purpose.\"8\n\nHe goes on to liken the congregation to the organization of the human body. \"Now the body is not a single part, but many. If a foot should say 'Because I am not a hand I do not belong to the body,' it does not for this reason belong any less to the body. Or if an ear should say, 'Because I am not an eye I do not belong to the body,' it does not for this reason belong any less to the body. If the whole body were an eye, where would the hearing be? If the whole body were hearing, where would the sense of smell be? But as it is, God placed the parts, each one of them, in the body as he intended.\"9\n\nThe ruling of the Russian court would place those body parts differently. The ones happening to be in Russia would be divided from the rest of the body. But God wills \"that there may be no division in the body, but that the parts may have the same concern for one another. If [one] part suffers, all the parts suffer with it.\"10 This explains the letter-writing campaign, eagerly participated in by Witnesses the world over, started with but a single invitation from the Witness organization. The government today pursues policies so that Jehovah's Witnesses will not band together. It wants them as independent individuals, who can thereby never get out of hand. It wants to dictate terms to them and see those terms adhered to. God is a fine Person, they acknowledge, so long as He remembers He is Russian.\n\nMr. Putin knows what it is for people to be divided. He thereby will understand Jehovah's Witnesses' lamentation over ones who would divide them. Speaking with American interviewer Charlie Rose, Putin stated: \"I indeed said that I believe that the collapse of the USSR was a huge tragedy of the 20th century. You know why?\"\n\nCharlie Rose: \"Why?\"\n\n\"Because, first of all, in an instant 25 million Russian people found themselves beyond the borders of the Russian state, although they were living within the borders of the Soviet Union. Then, all of a sudden, the USSR collapsed—just overnight, in fact. And it's turned out that in the former Soviet Republics—25 million Russian people were living. They were living in a single country. And all of a sudden, they turned out to be outside the borders of the country. You see this is a huge problem. First of all, there were everyday problems, the separation of families, social problems, economic problems. You can't list them all. Do you think it's normal that 25 million Russian people were abroad all of a sudden? Russia was the biggest divided nation in the world. It's not a problem? Well, maybe not for you. But it's a problem for me.\"11\n\nPutin understands the tragedy of division. He will understand Russian Witnesses' tragedy. With regard to his nation's effort to divide Jehovah's Witnesses, the latter might mirror his words back to him: \"It's not a problem? Well, maybe not for you. But it's a problem for me.\" He is essentially saying: \"Religions don't count; political nations do.\" Jehovah's Witnesses, the religion, may seem to stretch the definition of nation, yet they are a nation more so than most physical nations. They are a nation of persons united in spiritual outlook, purpose and cooperation, a nation in which every member is concerned over the welfare of every other member. \"Open up the gates that a righteous nation may enter, one that keeps faith,\" says Isaiah.12 They regard themselves as that nation.\n\nPutin and Russian Witnesses are similar in that both love the land of their birth. Witnesses, to the same extent as most people, ever maintain a warm spot in their heart for where they originated. In this regard, individual patriotism is noble. Collectively, however, patriotism transforms into nationalism and is just one more tool of the Devil to divide people. God wants to unite his people. It is not his fine idea that the earth should be carved up into 200 squabbling sub-divisions. To forbid God from uniting his people is an attempt to thwart him. He doesn't like it. His people are not able to abide by it. They know that illustration of the congregation being like the human body and they also know that it is not to be borne to have an arm cut off.\n\nSecular persons can usually see that neutrality is no threat, especially once they realize that there are just as many neutral Jehovah's Witnesses on the other side as they are on theirs. If they fight here, they will fight there. Must everyone fight? Is there no room anywhere for anyone to take a pass? Khrushchev had \"participated in two wars and [knew] that war ends when it has rolled through cities and villages, everywhere sowing death and destruction.\" How can it be so terrible if ones decide to sit it out?\n\nA common bit of wisdom handed to me as a boy in America was that every generation has a war to fight. As a child, my classmates and I ducked under our school desks during air-raid drills, where we were told to clasp our hands behind our necks to guard against \"flying glass.\" With a child's imagination, I pictured glass flying, as though with wings, in search of children to slash. Generational war was then portrayed as a rite of passage, a part of growing into adulthood—only afterwards could your credentials as an adult be verified—once you had proven yourself. It was as much a constant of life as was the Junior Prom, then the Senior Ball, and might well follow just as quickly—several of my graduating class died the next year in Vietnam. Our grandfathers fought World War I, our fathers World War II, our older brothers the Korean War, and for us it was the war in Vietnam.\n\nIt wasn't clear for the latter wars why anyone should go. There was a boiler-plate line dispensed to all about how the communists invaded one country after another and would topple them like dominoes—it was actually called the domino theory. It remains an example of how the media of any nation spins stories to fit their own narrative. RT.com, gaining in popularity in the States, is lambasted by some as being a source of Russian propaganda. \"It is from Russia—people take that into account,\" the site says, shrugging off criticism. I like RT.com. I like the China People's Daily. I like U.S. news sources, both conservative and liberal. By following them all, and not just the home team, one can hope to approximate an overall sense of current events, because no one source tells it all.\n\nOnly through studying the Bible did I become aware of a greater cause: allegiance to God's kingdom, that was a morally consistent \"out\" for taking part in whatever war was going on at the moment, with no damage done to the country. If all of Jehovah's Witnesses were to fight, they would simply cancel each other out. Why don't they all sit it out instead and focus on that in which they excel? I have at times asked to hear stories of military service from old-timers I come across in my ministry. They are old, and no one wants to hear their old stories. So I do. I will listen with all earnestness. Who cannot respect a person who puts his life on the line for a cause he believes in? I can genuinely respect his loyalty to country. However, I also must note that were he anywhere else, he would be equally loyal to another country.\n\nMy father was but a farmboy when he went to fight in the second world war. When they found he could fix tractors, they stationed him in a motor pool in the Philippines and made him a sergeant. The closest he ever came to combat was when a lieutenant wanted to draft his whole crew to fight off a Japanese incursion somewhere on the island. Pop told him to forget it—where would the army be without jeeps? Decades later, killing time in a small New York town, he and I came upon its war memorial in the village square. All the town's war dead were carved into stone. Many small towns have such memorials. Pop was troubled. \"They shouldn't do this.\" he said. \"It just glorifies it.\"\n\nHe would have agreed with the historian Sir Max Hastings: \"Having spent most of my life studying wars, my respect is very great for all those who take part in them and for what some wars have achieved for the rest of us. By their nature, conflicts bring out the very best and the worst in human beings. Writing books about them [he was promoting his] means studying both how low mankind can fall and how high it can rise. 'The Glorious Dead'—it is the sort of phrase that all nations have to write on their memorials. Otherwise you'd never get anyone to go to war again,\" he says.13 Yes. Carve the names into memorials to ensure a steady stream of participants.\n\nThe last soldier of World War I from France, Lazare Ponticelli, was 110 years of age when he died. Some things he had never figured out, such as why he had been fighting in the first place. Or why his enemy had, for that matter. Of course, he knew the reasons supplied by leaders, but how did it ever get so _personal_ —a worldwide slaughter that took the lives of 14 million? \"One of the paradoxes of 1914 is that in every country huge numbers of people, of all parties, creeds and blood, seem, surprisingly, to have gone willingly and happily to war,\" states British historian John Roberts.14 Their latter reflections would be different. \"More than anything, [Ponticelli] was appalled that he had been made to fire on people he didn't know and to whom he, too, was a stranger. They were fathers of children. He had no quarrel with them.\"15\n\nHermann Goering, the German Air Force leader from the next World War understood these things quite well: \"Why of course the people don't want war. Why should some poor slob on a farm want to risk his life in a war when the best he can get out of it is to come back to his farm in one piece? Naturally the common people don't want war, neither in Russia, nor in England, nor for that matter in Germany. That is understood. But, after all, it is the leaders of the country who determine the policy and it is always a simple matter to drag the people along, whether it is a democracy, or a fascist dictatorship, or a parliament, or a communist dictatorship. Voice or no voice, the people can always be brought to the bidding of the leaders. That is easy. All you have to do is tell them they are being attacked and denounce the peacemakers for lack of patriotism and exposing the country to danger. It works the same in any country.\"16\n\nDo not think it is easy to resist the \"leaders of the country who determine the policy.\" It is these who form the backdrop of popular thinking, the unconscious elements from which everyone draws. The contemporary \"follow your inner voice\" philosophy is but sloganeering which works splendidly when times are easy and fails utterly when they are hard. Nationalism has proven more than equal to the task of molding inner voices. \"Wisdom from on high,\" on the other hand, _will_ enable one to withstand, perhaps wisdom that has been forged with Jesus words: \"Put your sword back into its sheath, for all who take the sword will perish by the sword.\"17 If ever there was a reason to unsheathe the sword, it was in order to deliver Jesus from death. Surely, if you don't do it there, you don't do it anywhere.\n\nDuring that second World War, there were only two major faiths in Nazi Germany: the Roman Catholic Church and a union of Protestant churches known as the German Evangelical Church.18 If even one of those faiths had stood up to Hitler as did Jehovah's Witnesses, might the war have never occurred, with its 60 million casualties? Is this what the Book of Revelation means when it blames Babylon the Great, that conglomeration of unfaithful religion, for not only the blood of the prophets and the holy ones, but for all who have been slain on the earth?19 The slain prophets and holy ones slain are acts of _commission_ , but the far more numerous third group represents a staggering act of _omission_ : the failure to train members in ways of peace. Only Jehovah's Witnesses and a handful of other tiny faiths observe those ways.\n\n60 million casualties! Even were we to multiply the supposed count of Witnesses who are alleged to have died refusing blood transfusion20 by a factor of hundreds, the product would be but small number compared to the lives saved, theirs and that of those they might target, by declining war participation. As much as this world carries on about the value of life, if the cause is right, it will mow them down by the millions. If it deems the cause not right, one is too many.\n\nCassius Clay (Muhammad Ali) was among the first to break ranks during my youth. \"No Viet Cong never called me nigger\"21 he declared and refused the draft into the Vietnam war. Exactly. What quarrel did he have with persons halfway around the globe? If the kings of the earth couldn't get along, how did that become his problem? His real enemy was elsewhere. Ali didn't go to jail—he won his case on appeal22—but he was stripped of his Heavyweight Title and lost several years boxing. There is a price to be paid to sit out the war that the world leaders would funnel you into. The price is especially steep when, like Jehovah's Witnesses, you not only sit out war but also the substitute civilian activity that is clearly designed to support the war. As for me, had I not become a Witness when I did, perhaps I would have been shipped out of Vietnam in a box for a cause history judges not especially noble—for I could not then, nor now, scrap like Mohammed Ali.\n\nMost wars are ambiguous in hindsight. Though the victors write history, a case can usually be made for the other side. World War II is an exception. To this day, those who would defend the defeated side can be fit, relatively speaking, into a thimble. Yet even in this theater the Christian consciences of Jehovah's Witnesses moved them to decline participation. Victor Blackwell defended many American Witness youths in the local courts of that time. Almost always the punishment for declining military service was prison, usually delivered with some heat, such as: \"I sentence you to five years in a federal prison to be approved by the Attorney General. My only regret, you yellow coward, is that I cannot give you twenty five years!\"23 Blackwell writes of an exception to this rule, in which he said:\n\n\"May it please the Court, even though my client is in truth a minister of Jehovah, yet he could not meet the strict criteria for the Act for the ministerial exemption, as the Act has been constructed by the Supreme Court. I shall therefore not impose upon the Court's time and patience by asserting a defense which my client and I both recognize as untenable before the law. However, I would like to make a brief statement in mitigation of the sentence of this Court.\n\n\"The defendant here was accorded the conscientious objector status, which he had claimed....The tender and delicate conscience of this youth, trained in the Holy Word of God, would not permit him to accept the civilian work. Much as he did not like to disobey the board order, he could not and would not disobey the more binding order of his conscience. It was not a matter of defying the law, but of responding to what he earnestly believed to be the Law of God.\"\n\nThe judge ordered the young man released. It almost never happened. Blackwell writes: \"The federal prosecutor was flabbergasted. He had told me before trial he had a foolproof case....Ironically, this prosecutor had told me in connection with previous cases tried with him: 'It is most distasteful for me to prosecute and send these fine, clean young men to prison. They are the finest specimens of youth I have ever seen. If it were left up to me, I'd throw every one of these files sent to me in the wastebasket.' Yet, through the years, for a quarter century, he continued such prosecution. In later years, he became bitter and hostile toward them.\"24\n\nWith regard to another young client sentenced, Blackwell writes: \"He served one year and was paroled. The final parole report said of him: 'as was anticipated [he has] made an excellent adjustment under supervision....He is a Jehovah's Witness and is active in church activities. His prognosis is excellent.' With perhaps negligible exceptions (though I am aware of none), this is the kind of final probation report filed in the cases of the many thousands of other American citizens who paid a dear price for keeping an unblemished conscience.\"25\n\nBlackwell also defended a young man in military court, who became a Witness while enlisted. He writes: \"The judge was more than fair-minded and impartial. He was gracious, both to the youngster and his counsel. He permitted the most extensive questioning of the accused by his own counsel and army counsel. The youth was allowed to explain in the most complete manner the causes and reasons which impelled him to sever his relations with the army. His skillful use and handling of the Word of God, the Sword of the Spirit, was most impressive to the judge and all others present at the hearing.\" Council for the army did not insist upon his being kept in the service, and the judge subsequently said: \"I have known many of Jehovah's Witnesses. Their sincerity, as with this young man here, is beyond all questioning. They earnestly believe that they have a higher mission than serving their country in the military, commendable as that is....Their scruples here should be respected. I do not have the authority to discharge you, young man. However, I direct the authorities here to put through a request to Washington for your early release.\" The release order came through within a reasonable time, the young fellow was discharged, and has since been devoting a large measure of his time to the ministry as one of Jehovah's Christian Witnesses.\"26\n\nThe foregoing is the same ancient pattern playing out in modern times. \"A careful review of all the information available goes to show that, until the time of Marcus Aurelius [121-180 C.E.], no Christian became a soldier; and no soldier, after becoming a Christian, remained in military service,\" states one source.27 \"It will be seen presently that the evidence for the existence of a single Christian soldier between 60 and about 165 A.D. is exceedingly slight....Up to the reign of Marcus Aurelius at least, no Christian would become a soldier after his baptism,\" states another.28 \"The behavior of the Christians was very different from that of the Romans... Since Christ had preached peace, they refused to become soldiers,\" states yet another.29 \"It was impossible that the Christians, without renouncing a more sacred duty, could assume the character of soldiers, of magistrates, or of princes,\" states a fourth.30 The legal price to pay is usually substantial, but there is no wiggle room in which to wiggle.\n\nIn modern times, some governments have proved progressive (and some haven't)—willing to substitute neutral civilian service for military service. Taiwan instituted such a program in 2000. Kou-Enn Lin, director general of the program, recommends it to other nations during an interview with a Witness representative. Approved applicants to the system are assigned to sites such as hospitals, government offices, nursing homes; there are sixteen possible venues. It's not \"very light work,\" Kou-Enn makes clear, because the purpose is to substitute for, not exempt from, military service. It is a win-win, he maintains, and he cites figures to indicate a satisfaction rate of 90-97% among the agencies to which applicants are assigned. The greater goals of religious people are to serve, he says. They fit right in and need no discipline; they attack their work with enthusiasm. \"At one time we had a situation where there were people with religious conscience in jail and people with little conscience outside of jail. Resolving this contradiction shows our respect for human rights.\"31\n\nHe concludes with: \"It's good to have a system in parallel with regular military service as an alternative. That's the solution. The results and benefits exceeded what we expected. Human rights, religious suppression; all of these things can be resolved. I really hope other counties will come and draw lessons from our experience.\"32\n\nThe general world of churches tends to accept the world's division of people into myriad nations as a God-given reality. They pray to God to bless it, particularly the section in which they live. Jehovah's Witnesses say it is all from the Devil—it is his idea, not God's. That's not to say that human leaders operating therein have evil intent. More often than not they are conscious of a responsibility to govern and provide for the public good. If the system allows for it, they stay as long as possible, for one cannot provide such governing from the outside looking in. As though students of Newtonian physics, they seek to remove friction so that the object in motion (themselves) will stay in motion. There is no need to bad-mouth anyone. Has Putin amassed money while in office? American politicians do no less. They come in poor and they leave wealthy. They come in wealthy and they leave wealthier.33 The current president is one of the few who go against the pattern. He comes in wealthy and has seen his financial interests suffer, as he takes no salary and sees opposers boycott the family business.\n\nThe worst problem leaders may inflict comes when they decide that they can't make an omelet without breaking a few eggs. It primarily then becomes a problem for the eggs, not the leaders themselves. Unfortunately for Witnesses, even though they strive to be \"good eggs\" as people, they are still eggs. Political leaders don't reliably look into spiritual matters and many take it ill that human government should be described as Satanic—never mind that all governments are described that way and not just theirs.\n\nWitnesses say what they say because the Bible says it. The Gospel of Luke relates how Satan shows Jesus all the kingdoms of the world and offers him headship for simply an act of worship. Jesus rejects the offer, but not the premise that the kingdoms are the Devil's to offer. It has been that way from the rebellion of Eden. That is not to say Christians disobey the governments, for until God's purpose is realized, they exist as a stopgap measure. They build the roads. The deliver the mail. Woe to the people where anarchy prevails. Even an repressive government is usually better than that.34\n\nIf you want a certain policy to take place, then you must side with the party promising it. One can hardly vote for one party and then complain that the policies of the other are not taking place. If you want righteous conditions realized earth-wide, reason the Witnesses, then you must 'vote' for the party that has such in its Bible platform. You cannot vote for the party that has never managed to bring it about. You must vote for the party that has given evidence that it can deliver. Of course, you also must wait until Inauguration Day.\n\nAlas, Witnesses are not diplomats who ever so gracefully sidestep subjects unpalatable. They crash into them head-on, worried not about being blunt. Accuse them of watering down the Word and they _double down_ just so that there should be no misunderstanding. Still, these days they are careful to point out that while the system is of the Devil, that is not to imply that the players therein have horns. They have not always stated matters so delicately. They ham-fistedly call a spade a spade. They decline to pussyfoot around, as do some who manage to convey the muddled impression that a spade is really just a misunderstood heart, a club with poor self-esteem, or a \"diamond in the rough.\"\n\nIf you try to \"expose\" the faults of the king, he gets upset. Keep out of his way, and usually you'll do fine. In all lands it is: \"Ask the king his ground rules for maintaining public order, and then do them.\" Witnesses' life is not about human rule. Do what he says and get on with life. Of course, if he turns against you, siding with the house Church, you are up the crick and our brothers have it very tough for a time. The only caveat is that they are used to it, as others might not be.\n\nVisiting Uzbekistan, Patriarch Kirill of Moscow and All Russia, asserted that \"insulting religious feelings is one of the forms of extremism, this is what shakes the foundations of social life, what provokes internal conflicts.\"35 If we do not confine our gaze to the real thing, many things can be described as \"forms of extremism.\" The Patriarch's concern for shaking the foundations of social life and the welfare of the state calls to mind the concerns of other religious leaders from long ago: \"These people who have been creating a disturbance all over the world have now come here!\"36\n\nAt the same time, traditional religions, according to the primate, \"are called upon to strengthen the foundations of national existence.\" Patriarch Kirill called on religious leaders \"to work with their flock, but to educate this flock in the spirit of respect for each other, in caring for the stability of public life, in caring for the welfare of the state.\" If only he had called upon them to strengthen their flock's foundations of Bible knowledge, as most of the flock will assume is his role. But, no. It is the foundations of national existence and welfare of the state that comes first. God is welcome in the soup of national sovereignties, so long as he knows that his place is to serve as a balm applied to the prevailing system in hopes it will run a bit smoother. Pour it on like a syrup. Perhaps it will seep into the foundation somehow and fortify it.\n\nThe World Youth Festival opened for 2017 in Sochi, Russia. President Putin addressed the delegates. He spoke of challenges of the future—the payoffs can be very real, but the threats are also very real. The young—Putin takes an interest in them—must pursue the future that science makes possible, but they must not abandon moral and ethical values in doing so, he warned, for that could cause a catastrophe larger than a nuclear war.\n\n\"In the nearest future, humanity may enter and will, most likely, enter a very difficult and important period in its development and existence,\" he said, referring to recent scientific breakthroughs. \"What I've said now may be more dangerous than a nuclear bomb. Therefore, no matter what we're doing, we must never forget about the moral and ethical basis of our business. Everything that we'll be doing must benefit the people and empower humanity, not destroy it.\"\n\nThe president used genetic engineering as an example to illustrate his words, saying that this discipline can bring both positive and negative results. \"It's great\" that it can provide the possibility to change the genetic code of people suffering from serious diseases, he said. \"But there's another component to this process. Humanity also receives an opportunity to meddle with the genetic code, which was created either by nature or, as people with religious views say, God.\"37\n\nYes, it is right around the corner, he said: the possibility of \"creating a human with predesigned characteristics.\" However, \"it may be a genius mathematician or musician, but also a soldier, who will fight without fear, compassion and regret, without pain,\" Putin warned. He gets into such things speaking to the young people, who are the prospects for the future. It is unfair for the West to accuse him of making himself a cult figure. Or, rather, if he does, it is with no evil intent, but for the good of those he leads. If being perceived a cult figure helps him better lead, so be it. It may well facilitate his greater object. Does he pump iron and ride bare-chested and slam hockey players half his age into the boards? Okay. It means he could best the American president in hand-to-hand combat any day, despite his smaller stature, and sometimes one wishes that world leaders would settle their disputes just that way. He calls to mind Jesse Ventura, former pro wrestler turned governor of Minnesota. The bumper stickers read: \"My Governor Can Beat Up Your Governor.\"38 Reporters asked whether he had seen them. He said that he had and that furthermore, they were true. He had been to those governors' conferences. He had looked those flabby guys over. There was not one of them he could not take.\n\nPutin makes clear his vision for the future speaking before those students. It is science. It is human efforts. It will be a challenge that human science does not outmaneuver human ethics, he says, for it is all human. Does religion play a part? It can, if that part is modest and does not rock the boat. \"Humanity also receives an opportunity to meddle with the genetic code, which was created either by nature or, as people with religious views say, God,\" he says. Gone are the days when the Soviet State insisted it could only be 'nature.' Now if one wants to say 'God,' that is okay. So long as he doesn't overdo it. So long as he acquiesces that God's place is to assist human efforts to save the planet through science. If people want to entertain some silly stories about afterlife, we all can live with that—they do no harm to the overall program. But to suggest human efforts are not up to the job in the _present_ life, as Jehovah's Witnesses do—to suggest that God disapproves, that he will one day replace the status quo—to get people all worked up over _that_? Surely only a pest would behave that way. It is the purely secular outlook of the future that sees religion as unnecessary, but so long as it does nothing but reinforce, its efforts are tolerated and sometimes even welcomed. But if it runs off with an agenda of its own, it must be stopped. Why can't it just line up with the Orthodox Church which has the God base adequately covered? Why does it have to go and be a pest? Why does it have to rock the boat? It is too much to bear.\n\n\"We found this man to be a pest; he creates dissension among Jews all over the world and is a ringleader of the sect of the Nazoreans,\" the religious leader said of Paul.39 What was Paul's problem—in their eyes? He was a pest. He created dissention in that religious world. If he stopped doing that, then he would not be a pest and all would be fine. Why can't he just go along with the way things already are—make a suggestion or two and leave it at that? Putin likes the Russian Orthodox Church because it helps build a strong Russia. But now they, too, report a pest. Why should he see them have to suffer a pest? So he signs off on the move to harass all minority religion and ban the most pernicious one in particular.\n\nIf one allows that it may be God, and not just nature, who made all things, might not some deductions be made? Is our origin truly a matter of no consequence? If God made all things, it stands to reason that he may have some purpose behind it all. He thus may not stand aside and see it all be wasted away or otherwise brought to ruin. However, if nature is responsible for all things—nature through evolution—then if there is any hope for humanity it lies entirely with what humans are able to do. And they are not doing so well. That is why Putin cautions them.\n\nThe president talks a good game—how scientists, in the person of those young delegates present—must rise to the occasion of making the world better, or at least ensuring that it _has_ a future. Does he believe it? Does he have misgivings? Who can tell? But the issue is: Will it be human efforts or God's efforts saving the future? The Russian government unreservedly looks to human efforts. Jehovah's Witnesses unreservedly look to God's efforts.\n\nIt is not unlike the post-World War I innovation of the League of Nations, the first organization of its kind to tackle governing the entire planet through human means. Its object was to prod the governments into talking to each other and defuse conflicts before they could trigger another war. That very year (1919) Jehovah's Witnesses held a convention in Cedar Point Ohio in which they embraced God's kingdom as the sole hope for governing the planet: a government by God, not men. The two are philosophically precise opposites. At this fork in the road, which stand did the Federal Council of the Churches of Christ in America take? It famously declared the new League of Nations to be the \"political expression of the kingdom of God on earth.\"40 Religion must be practical, in its eyes. It must support human aspirations of equitable government and not roil matters by suggesting God will one day replace it all. Does any religion maintain that the stone cut from divine sovereignty will one day strike the idol on the feet and crush it?41 Surely that is extremist.\n\nIf Putin carries on about morality and ethics, how can he go along with, if not order, Jehovah's Witnesses to be suppressed, even with violence? It is a reasonable question, and the answer may be found in how Jewish religious leaders described Paul to Roman governor Felix—he was that pestilent fellow not worthy of Rome's justice.\n\nIt is human efforts that must save the day, so they say. Nothing must get in the way. Nothing must distract or discourage. The stakes are too high. Those who cannot fathom God cannot understand why anyone would quibble over different perceptions of him. The more authoritarian ones among them do not want it even to happen on their watch. It does little good to carry on about the Russian constitution that guarantees freedom of religion. Freedom of religion is not a Russian concept. It is appended onto the constitution because it sounds good. But it does not resonate. It is boiler-plate language for many Russians, legalese inserted at document's end in the confidence that nobody will read it. The Levada Center recently reported that, whereas 79% of the Russian population in the early 1990s thought the repressions of Stalin constituted \"a crime that has no justification,\" the figure has now dropped below 40%.42 \"Enough of freedom,\" many say—\"it means nothing but trouble.\"\n\nJehovah's Witnesses steadfastly advocate in Russia the Bible viewpoint, and for that they suffer. It is the trials of the ancient people of God revisited. They \"endured mockery, scourging, even chains and imprisonment. They were stoned, sawed in two, put to death with the sword; they went about in skins of sheep or goats, needy, afflicted, tormented. The world was not worthy of them. They wandered about in deserts and on mountains, in caves and in crevices in the earth.\" Update it but slightly. Replace \"scourging\" with \"beating.\" Strike the \"chains,\" but keep the \"imprisonment.\" Cancel the detail about \"clad with skins of sheep and goats\" and settling in \"caves and crevices.\" Instead, just sack them from their employment, freeze their assets, and let them survive that way if they think they can.43 The only part of the verse to remain is: \"the world was not worthy of them.\"44\n\nJehovah's Witnesses in Russia will think Paul's preceding words prophetic: \"You even joined in the sufferings of those in prison and joyfully accepted the confiscation of your property, knowing that you had a better and lasting possession.\"45 \"You got that right,\" they will say to Paul, for they have seen a lot of property confiscated. Can one really accept such things joyfully? Not in and of itself, no—it is an atrocity—but in the greater picture, yes. People whose horizons are only those of this system of things can never appreciate the mentality of those who are not. It is but one more way that \"the natural person does not accept what pertains to the Spirit of God, for to him it is foolishness, and he cannot understand it, because it is judged spiritually.\" One hates the confiscation of one's things, but it is compensated for by being a \"spiritual person, [who] can judge everything but is not subject to judgment by anyone.\"46\n\n\"During the chaos of the early post-Soviet years,\" writes the Moscow Times, \"the average Russian was adrift, aghast at his sudden job insecurity and embarrassed about his country's poverty....Then came Vladimir Putin to restore his sense of dignity. Putin assured Russians that every country had skeletons in the closet, \"nothing to be ashamed of.\" More important, he returned the state to its role \"as a paternalistic caretaker. The modern Russian is very much like [the Soviet Russian] only with a car and nicer clothes\" and is not inclined to protest or make trouble.47\n\nThe Russian experiment with Western freedoms produced a mixed bag of results. Some things blew up in their faces. It was too much. So they beat a partial retreat. The administration's 2000 National Security Concept stresses \"protecting the cultural and spiritual-moral legacy and the historical traditions and standards of public life and preserving the cultural heritage of all Russia's peoples.\" Also, \"there must be a state policy to maintain the population's spiritual and moral welfare, prohibit the use of airtime to promote violence or base instincts, and counter the adverse impact of foreign religious organizations and missionaries.\"48\n\nThe average person cares not overmuch about government. He or she has a life to lead. A weakness of most media is that they are obsessed with government and are staffed with persons who imagine it the central hub of life. This writer recalls a personal friend who used to point out how Newsweek and Time would completely miss the thrust of this or that story, whereas Watchtower-published Awake! would capture it. Not if the subject was politics or business, of course, but if it had to do with the general populace, Awake! would win hands-down. Those two secular magazines would send their wildly overeducated reporters into this or that barrio, and the locals, thoroughly over-awed, not wishing to appear stupid, would tell them anything they wanted to hear. Awake! would send in their peers and get the true picture.\n\nNot too long ago, BBC interviewed a poverty-stricken man in an impoverished nation. \"Whom can you trust?\" the reporter wanted to know. \"I trust in God,\" the fellow replied. \"Yes, yes, you trust in God,\" repeated the newsman, eager to get this useless bit of trivia behind him, \"but what about politicians?\" \"Some politicians, but not all politicians,\" the man said. Ah—at last! Now we're talking—human efforts! Awake! would have zeroed in on his initial response, taking for granted the general irrelevance of politicians to most people. Ancient governments are likened in Scripture to the heavens. They would shine on you one moment, rain on you the next, and there was nothing you could do about it. For all the democratic notions prevalent in some lands, the situation is little different today. To get an ounce of result, you must apply a ton of pressure, and most people are simply not up to the job.\n\nThe human record of exercising authority is most discouraging. \"All these things I saw and I applied my heart to every work that is done under the sun, while one person tyrannizes over another for harm,\" says Ecclesiastes.49 Yet the Witness view is that God allows it as a stop-gap measure. Heaven help the people where there is anarchy.\n\nThe last chapter or two of each Gospel is of Jesus interacting with Pilate. If Christians were meant to change government, surely it would be revealed here. One sees not a trace of it. Pilate asked Jesus if he was a king. Jesus said he was. Pilate knew straight away that he was looking at some sort of religious thing, and not the literal sedition the Jewish leaders, hoping to cause Jesus trouble, made it out to be.\n\nJehovah's Witnesses appeal to this world's justice system when the occasions for it arise. They work until they don't. The course has precedent. A full quarter of the Book of Acts is the apostle Paul appealing to authorities following his arrest in Jerusalem. As he wends his way up to Caesar for a final trial, he does not criticize Roman government. Nowhere does he call them on their deeds, heavy-handed though some of them were.\n\nHis appeal was ultimately unsuccessful.50 He ended his days under house arrest in Rome. But it was successful from a witnessing point of view, and it is part of the Bible record that has stood for two millennia. Paul witnessed to each official he met. When his appearance sparked a riot in Ephesus, the Romans took him into protective custody. It was not too protective, however—the Roman officer in charge wanted to know why all the ruckus and he figured that he would beat it out of Paul. But Paul was a Roman citizen and, as such, had certain rights:\n\n\" _The cohort commander ordered him to be brought into the compound and gave instruction that he be interrogated under the lash to determine the reason why they were making such an outcry against him. But when they had stretched him out for the whips, Paul said to the centurion on duty, \"Is it lawful for you to scourge a man who is a Roman citizen and has not been tried?\" When the centurion heard this, he went to the cohort commander and reported it, saying, \"What are you going to do? This man is a Roman citizen.\" Then the commander came and said to him, \"Tell me, are you a Roman citizen?\" \"Yes,\" he answered. The commander replied, \"I acquired this citizenship for a large sum of money.\" Paul said, \"But I was born one.\" At once those who were going to interrogate him backed away from him, and the commander became alarmed when he realized that he was a Roman citizen and that he had had him bound.\"_ 51\n\nThis was not the first time Paul asserted his rights as a Roman citizen before government officials. When local authorities threw him and his companion into prison and magistrates sought to undo it quietly the next day, Paul would not permit it: _\"They have beaten us publicly, even though we are Roman citizens and have not been tried and have thrown us into prison. And now, are they going to release us secretly? By no means. Let them come themselves and lead us out.\" The lictors reported these words to the magistrates, and they became alarmed when they heard that they were Roman citizens. So they came and placated them, and led them out and asked that they leave the city.\"_\n\nSo it was that the Governing Body made sure that the Russian trial to ban Jehovah's Witnesses was held in the largest venue possible and received worldwide attention. If there was to be an injustice, let it not be done in secret. Let the world know. One is also reminded of the Watchtower's campaign of the 1950s and 1960s, related in Baran's book, to ensure that Russian Witnesses knew their rights under the Soviet constitution—those rights buttressed by pertinent U.N. resolutions and even select quotations of Lenin. If the rights were not to be respected by government authorities, that did not mean they were nonexistent.\n\nAfter Paul's conversion on the road to Damascus, he made himself a persistent menace to the religious powers that were then, peeling off their adherents willy-nilly. Picture their annoyance at watching this play out in town after town, and take note of their response: _\"Following his usual custom, Paul... entered into discussions with them from the scriptures, expounding and demonstrating that the Messiah had to suffer and rise from the dead, and that 'This is the Messiah, Jesus, whom I proclaim to you.' Some of them were convinced and joined Paul and Silas; so, too, a great number of Greeks who were worshipers, and not a few of the prominent women. But the Jews became jealous and recruited some worthless men_ [imagine—going down in history as 'worthless'] _loitering in the public square, formed a mob, and set the city in turmoil.\"_\n\nNor was it just Paul. All Christians were encouraged to do likewise, so as not to be a lamp placed under a basket. Paul wrote to Timothy: \"Be eager to present yourself as acceptable to God, a workman who causes no disgrace, imparting the word of truth without deviation.\"52 The word \"workman\" is telling. It would not be a separate, elite class that would \"impart the word of truth without deviation.\" It would be the \"workmen\" that the educated class scorned. Christians would be run-of-the-mill persons made powerful through coordinated study of the Word. It is little wonder their enemies felt they had no recourse but to silence them.\n\nAs stated, Paul never emerged from under that arrest in Jerusalem. He appealed his case to Caesar. The Book of Acts from that chapter on tells of his travels to Rome. Along the way he met a bevy of officials—some petty, some major—and he pitched Christianity to each one. They all ran for cover, the same as folks do today. They all had their reasons, the same as folks do today.\n\nFirst off was provincial governor Felix. _\"He had Paul summoned and listened to him speak about faith in Christ Jesus. But as he spoke about righteousness and self-restraint and the coming judgment, Felix became frightened and said, \"You may go for now; when I find an opportunity I shall summon you again.\"_ Felix does not comport well in history; many are the complaints of his 'cruelty and licentiousness.' It is hardly surprising that 'righteousness,' 'self-restraint,' and the 'coming judgment' made him sweat. The succeeding verse does nothing to put him in a better light: _\"At the same time he hoped that a bribe would be offered him by Paul, and so he sent for him very often and conversed with him.\"_ Paul had little control over who his audience would be, but he did have control over whether they would be an audience.\n\nNotwithstanding Felix's dubious record, when the high priest traveled from Jerusalem with a spokesman in order to make trouble for Paul, the spokesman gushed: _\"Since we have attained much peace through you, and reforms have been accomplished in this nation through your provident care, we acknowledge this in every way and everywhere, most excellent Felix, with all gratitude. But in order not to detain you further, I ask you to give us a brief hearing with your customary graciousness.\"_ When it was Paul's turn to reply, he said _\"I know that you have been a judge over this nation for many years and so I am pleased to make my defense before you.\"_ In so many words he says: \"Well, you've certainly been around for a while.\" Yet even so, he is nowhere disrespectful, nor does he tell Felix how to run his jurisdiction.\n\nFelix leaves Paul in prison so as to please the dominant religion. His successor is a man named Festus. The same representatives of that religious system come down to secure Paul's doom once again, having failed in their previous attempt to have him sent to Jerusalem, where they had hoped to assassinate him along the way.\n\nFestus eventually entertains a neighboring king and tells him the background: _\"There is a man here left in custody by Felix. When I was in Jerusalem the chief priests and the elders of the Jews brought charges against him and demanded his condemnation. I answered them that it was not Roman practice to hand over an accused person before he has faced his accusers and had the opportunity to defend himself against their charge. So when (they) came together here, I made no delay; the next day I took my seat on the tribunal and ordered the man to be brought in. His accusers stood around him but did not charge him with any of the crimes I suspected. Instead they had some issues with him about their own religion and about a certain Jesus who had died but who Paul claimed was alive. Since I was at a loss how to investigate this controversy, I asked if he were willing to go to Jerusalem and there stand trial on these charges. And when Paul appealed that he be held in custody for the Emperor's decision, I ordered him held until I could send him to Caesar.\" Agrippa said to Festus, \"I too should like to hear this man.\" He replied, \"Tomorrow you will hear him.\"_\n\nThe next day Agrippa and Bernice came with great ceremony and entered the audience hall in the company of cohort commanders and the prominent men of the city and, by command of Festus, Paul was brought in. And Festus said, \"King Agrippa and all you here present with us, look at this man about whom the whole Jewish populace petitioned me here and in Jerusalem, clamoring that he should live no longer. I found, however, that he had done nothing deserving death, and so when he appealed to the Emperor, I decided to send him. But I have nothing definite to write about him to our sovereign; therefore I have brought him before all of you, and particularly before you, King Agrippa, so that I may have something to write as a result of this investigation. For it seems senseless to me to send up a prisoner without indicating the charges against him.\"\n\nAgrippa said to Paul: \"You are permitted to speak in behalf of yourself.\" Then Paul stretched his hand out and proceeded to say in his defense: \"Concerning all the things of which I am accused by Jews, King Agrippa, I count myself happy that it is before you I am to make my defense this day, especially as you are expert on all the customs as well as the controversies among Jews. Therefore I beg you to hear me patiently.\"\n\nPaul gives an account of his past and how he came to be where he was. It is too much for Festus: _\"Now as he was saying these things in his defense, Festus said in a loud voice: 'You are going mad, Paul! Great learning is driving you into madness!'\"_ (Some Witnesses alive today recall various clergymen discouraging study of the Bible, claiming \"it would make one crazy.\")\n\nPaul wasn't put off by this remark. Instead, he countered: _\"I am not going mad, Your Excellency Festus, but I am uttering sayings of truth and of soundness of mind. In reality, the king to whom I am speaking with freeness of speech well knows about these things; for I am persuaded that not one of these things escapes his notice, for this thing has not been done in a corner. Do you, King Agrippa, believe the Prophets? I know you believe.\" But Agrippa said to Paul: \"In a short time you would persuade me to become a Christian.\" At this Paul said: \"I could wish to God that whether in a short time or in a long time not only you but also all those who hear me today would become men such as I also am, with the exception of these bonds.\"_ Some lemons are hard to make into lemonade—\"bonds,\" for example. Nobody can say Paul was timid speaking before the king, though, nor ashamed of the cause for which he was arrested.\n\n\" _And the king rose and so did the governor and Bernice and the men seated with them. But as they withdrew they began talking with one another, saying: \"This man practices nothing deserving death or bonds.\" Moreover, Agrippa said to Festus: 'This man could have been released if he had not appealed to Caesar.'\"_\n\nSo it was as Paul worked his way toward Caesar, establishing his innocence at every stop. Still, they decided to keep him restrained. Everywhere he is an ambassador for God's kingdom, and everywhere he avoids telling them how they should run theirs. It is the same way that Jehovah's Witnesses act toward the governments under which they live.\n\nThe Book of Acts ends with Paul under house arrest. The dominant religious system did not attain its goal of killing him, but it did attain its goal of restricting him. The restriction was less successful than they might have imagined, for Paul went on to complete the majority of letters in the New Testament. Higher critics maintain he essentially founded a different religion, putting his own spin on the words of both Moses and Jesus.53\n\nTradition has it that Paul was executed during the time of Nero. This is consistent with the fact that Nero pinned the burning of Rome on the growing Christian movement. That machination triggered many an atrocity. Over time, Christianity modified itself. It learned to accommodate its enemies and be molded by them. Paul had forewarned: \"I know that after I leave, savage wolves will come in among you and will not spare the flock. Even from your own number men will arise and distort the truth in order to draw away disciples after them.\" These men did not lose. They won. They would win today except that the timing is different.54\n\nJesus illustrated the change of timing with his parable of the wheat and weeds. The enemy sowed weeds among the fledgling wheat. \"Leave them be,\" the owner tells his slaves, and the weeds promptly overrun the wheat. During the harvest, however, it is a different story. \"Then at harvest time I will say to the harvesters, 'First collect the weeds and tie them in bundles for burning; but gather the wheat into my barn.'\"55 The weeds that were victorious soon after planting are not victorious at the harvest, despite the efforts of the dominant religious empire. Even though they maneuver the governments into fighting against God, they are not victorious.\n\nChapter 6 endnotes\n\nReturn to Table of Contents\n\n# Chapter 7 – Education\n\nTwo of the four Witnesses who testified at the April 20th Moscow trial were highly educated. Probably they were selected for just that reason. If the world understands nothing but education, give it to them in spades. But the 50/50 mix at the trial is atypical. For every college trained person among the Witnesses, there must be ten who are not. Some say it is that way by design—that the Witness organization wants people to remain uneducated and thereby easier to influence.\n\nThe accusation misses the point. If it is that way with education, it has always been that way with Christianity as portrayed in the Bible. It is even _deliberately_ that way on God's part, and it can be taken as a taunt at the world's collective wisdom that has so blatantly failed to provide peace, security, and well-being. \"For the wisdom of this world is foolishness in the eyes of God, for it is written 'He catches the wise in their own ruses,' and again 'The Lord knows the thoughts of the wise, that they are vain,'\" say the verses.1 Is there any place that wisdom is to be found more than in in its system of higher education? Surely that system must take ownership of the world it has collectively produced.\n\nCelsus, a philosopher of the second century, made great sport of ridiculing Christians. They were \"labourers, shoemakers, farmers, the most uninformed and clownish of men.\"2 The apostle Paul would not have been embarrassed by this. On the contrary, he agrees: \"Not many of you were wise by human standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth. Rather, God chose the foolish of the world to shame the wise, and God chose the weak of the world to shame the strong.\"3 Jesus passes it off as almost a grand trick to on those too full of themselves to notice: \"I give praise to you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, for although you have hidden these things from the wise and the learned you have revealed them to the childlike. Yes, Father, such has been your gracious will.\"4\n\nMany modern writers seemingly are embarrassed by these humble beginnings and will gloss over the unpleasantness, as though to say \"Okay, they may have _started_ lowly, but look how they pulled themselves up!\" They strive to qualify the uneducated roots. They are embarrassed about them. For example, Edward D. Andrews explains it away by writing: \"Celsus was an _enemy_ of Christianity... what Celsus observed is only within the sphere of his personal experiences. How many Christians could he have known out of almost a million at the times of his writing?\" [italics mine]5 Do not these remarks reflect a cultural bias that it is the educated people who most matter? You do not want to be portrayed as a religion of dumbbells. You must leave such humiliating circumstances behind if you are to rise in popular esteem.\n\nFirst-century Christianity primarily drew from the lower rungs of society. In time, it apostatized and thereby made itself more attractive to the more elevated rungs, but it has not been that way from the beginning. The \"uneducated\" and \"ordinary\" men who formed the very leadership of the new faith ever remain uneducated and ordinary.6 Christianity is a 'working-class' religion. It thrives on humility. The more education of this world a person has, the greater the assault on that quality, and the more likely such ones will accept only a modified version of the faith that will fit their terms. Jehovah's Witnesses are nothing if not ones who hold to the original model. Celsus's words should not be shied away from. They should be embraced as the template that would forever define true Christianity. If God had wanted to cater to the accomplished crowd back then, he would have arranged that his Son be born at the Jerusalem Hyatt instead of the Bethlehem Manger. The fact that he didn't demonstrates that he doesn't just 'put up' with the 'lower rungs'—he chooses them over the higher ones.\n\nCan the higher rungs really be that high? Would not the world they have collectively built be much more livable if they were? Pure academic muscle carries little weight with God, much less the credentials that the world defers to. The twelve were decidedly not intellectuals. They were \"workmen\" who had learned to handle the Word aright.7 Paul had intellectual credibility, with advanced education for his time, but he took direction from the workmen. His lasting stature is not that he was an in-house thinker. He was primarily a doer, whereas the \"superapostles\" who were always trying to upstage him, boasting of their own credentials, were not.8\n\nIt is unfair to say that the Christian congregation has contempt for contemporary education, a charge sometimes made. But it is fair to say that it doesn't allow itself to be shoved around by it. The offerings of human wisdom are ever inconstant, ever arguable, and occasionally downright stupid. The organization of Jehovah's Witnesses looks to Scripture for basic training in life. \"All scripture is inspired by God and is useful for teaching, for refutation, for correction, and for training in righteousness, so that one who belongs to God may be competent, equipped for every good work\" is their mission statement with regard to education.9\n\nSurely it is fair to demand proof that this world's educational system delivers the goods it advertises. If its end result is a planet tearing itself apart at the seams, with extinction an acknowledged possibility, must one not ask of its driving education model: 'What good is it?' Jehovah's Witnesses unify, dignify, pacify, and harness the activity of persons from every background of race, nationality, social and financial strata. Should this world's education not produce comparable results before it is hailed as the be-all and end-all? If the swirling mass of humanity should disappear down the giant flush of a washbasin, it will hardly matter how educated each individual imagines himself to be.\n\nJehovah's Witnesses do not neglect education. They redefine it. The general model of this world's education is to focus on training of the intellect, with the apparent assumption that moral qualities will take care of themselves. Of course, history testifies that they do not, and their absence results in the undoing or even the redirecting to harm much of what its education brings about. Frankly, unless people have proved themselves to be of good heart, you are frequently better off not educating them—they can do less damage that way. If janitors and car wash attendants had run the financial world back in 2007, they might have figured out a way to beat the taxpayers out of a day's wage. As it was, highly educated MBAs ran it and they found a way to sink all future generations into intractable debt.\n\nIt is surprising that so little attention is payed to moral training in the greater education models of the world. One can only suppose it is because those who mold it can agree on no common foundation upon which to base it. Jehovah's Witnesses take it as a given that the Bible fulfills that role. They focus on the moral training to be found in that textbook from the Creator. By doing so, they are not filling in the gaps of education. They are providing its underpinnings. The lessons of the heart are those that are essential. The lessons of the head can be added on an as-needed basis. Bible education alone will not teach you the practical skills required for specific tasks, of course. There, Jehovah's Witnesses look to offerings in the world's educational system, which they cherry-pick.\n\nBible curriculum forms the core of a Witness's moral training. The great ideas of this world are but footnotes for them—electives. Peruse them if you wish, but they are hardly requirements. After all, if the Greeks form the cradle of civilization for Western nations, they also form the cradle of pedophilia. The grooming of young boys for sexual purposes was an enshrined component of that society.10 One wonders how today's rationalists—adoring the ancient Greeks, but abhorring child sexual abuse—will ultimately resolve this bit of cognitive dissonance. Will they finally excuse the sexual abuse as just 'one of those things,' or will they haul the Greek perverts, the very heroes of critical thinking, off into infamy? Historian Robin Osborne has acknowledged that \"historical discussion of paiderastia is complicated by 21st-century moral standards.\"11 Indeed it is.\n\nWhen Jehovah's Witnesses look to Scripture for \"training in righteousness,\" they do no more than recognize that God made us, not we ourselves. If you want to best maintain your fine new vehicle, you read the new vehicle's owner's manual. The Witness organization does no more than disseminate the owner's manual for the vehicle that is us. Take too much to heart of the higher education owners' manual and you risk prematurely ruining the car. Four years or more of such education will reliably both plant and nurture thinking corrosive to Christianity. Students, over time, are conditioned to look to humans for the answers, as the only ones having it within their power to fix things. They learn of myriad government models to select from, and myriad philosophes. Also, they learn of myriad business, science, and cultural models. Surely something will work if we can just find the right blend. They are influenced to think of God as a human construct. Serious belief is unfashionable. Bland belief is permissible, the sort that repackages human thinking as religion, though even that is looked at askance. The concept of God evolved because the dregs of any clan must be kept in check, they say. However, the dregs fight back at any human check, creating societal disharmony, so a _superhuman_ check—a God with whom you cannot fight—is evolutionarily preferable.12\n\nStudents are conditioned that man is naturally good. If you can but isolate the cream of human wisdom you cannot go wrong. They are influenced to absorb the intoxicating air of independence along with its corollary that almost the most foolish thing people can do is to let someone else direct them; loyalty to any group of persons is suspect. Authority is problematic. Question it. Acquiesce to nothing until it can answer every question. Personal fulfillment will likely be lauded as the highest goal. Career will come first. Family will be what you choose to make it. Marriage will be a relic of the past. Should you choose to enter it, certainly do not be cowed into thinking it is permanent.\n\nThe prime teachings of the greater world's education are deleterious to Christianity, yet they constitute the air breathed at universities today. Details may vary from country to country, as does the local degree of air and water pollution, but they are the essence of the liberal arts woven into most curricula. Should Jehovah's Witnesses be eager to throw their offspring under the bus of such education? The world is a tortured mass of cognitive dissonance, ever struggling to reconcile its cherished teachings of life with the chaotic mess they have collectively produced. 'Why shovel our kids into the maw of that monster?' Witnesses reason. Direct them somewhere with happier outcome.\n\nOne might even turn the tables and call the higher education route a route of brainwashing, a charge that has been made against the Witnesses themselves. Does one really become a Witness through brainwashing? If so, there are far better examples, and college is foremost among them. Students are separated nearly 24/7 on campus from all that once stabilized them—a classic time-tested tool of brainwashing. The phrase says it all: a college student is \"in college\"—living in the dormitory, in the dining hall, in the social haunts, and in the classrooms on campus, in a setting atypical and unfamiliar.\n\nSuch brainwashing, if we should call it that, is all the more effective because its nature is veiled. Pursuing college education is no more controversial than pursuing regular health care. It is a thoroughly conventional course of action, portrayed almost as a rite of passage into adulthood. In contrast, persons who study the Bible with Jehovah's Witnesses know full well that they are straying off the beaten path. They do it because they perceive that the beaten path is leading nowhere, but they invariably know they are going atypical. Still, even as they do it, they are grounded 95% of the time in their familiar routine and surroundings, as opposed to college life, where everything is new and unfamiliar. If one must bandy about the 'brainwashing' label, the trick is not to deny that Jehovah's Witnesses do it. The trick is to point out that the world's education does it to a far greater degree and with some ideas that are far more deleterious.\n\nWhat persons who accuse Jehovah's Witnesses of brainwashing find most objectionable is something that has nothing to do with brainwashing. It is the _conclusions_ Witnesses come to that rankle, not their process of coming to them. The process is straightforward, plainly labeled, and more easily discontinued in the event of second thoughts than is college, since the latter has often taken great financial commitment and generated social expectations. However, those who would style themselves as thinkers today pride themselves on never shutting down ideas, for that would be to show themselves intolerant. They feel it better to cloak attacks of their ideas as attacks on the 'unfair' process of reaching them. If you dislike the kingdom message, you will dislike the organization that facilitates its spread. It is no more complicated than that.\n\nFew things in this world are _less_ tricky than choosing to become a Witness. One cannot do so without a lengthy period of voluntary study, seldom lasting less than a year in the U.S. It is not a religion where one can impulsively 'come down and be saved.' The one who studies the Bible with Jehovah's Witnesses remains always in familiar routine, save for a personal home Bible study, congregation meetings and a social gathering or two. One is always in control of one's destiny.\n\nAs an example of a deleterious idea that will be planted in most systems of higher education, consider the foundation upon which children have historically been raised—that of monogamous marriage. Surely the nurture of children is a foundation of humanity. The Bible zealously advertises and guards marriage as the institution to build life around. The higher education of this world is unafraid to experiment with it and is apt to recommend jettisoning it altogether. \"We struggle with monogamy—is it time to abandon it altogether?\" postulates New Scientist.13 \"Monogamy evolved to keep baby-killers away,\" pitches another article,14 and now it works against us. \"Women only stay with men for security, and men only stay with women for sex. It's a cynical view of human relationships, but researchers now say it is the driving force behind the evolution of monogamy—and women started it. By offering sex all the time, females in monogamous species disguise whether they are fertile and trick males into sticking around.\"15\n\nIs _this_ the reason people cannot hold together a marriage to save their lives? Is it evolution that, long ago, coerced the women to play a mean trick on the men? If so, it is time to move on, these writers for New Scientist seem to argue. There are no longer predators to eat our children—at least not in the literal sense. Why behave as though they were? Why feel guilty when it is time to 'move on'? That's just religion trying to guilt us with its evolutionary manmade gods. We do not want to feel bad about ourselves—it is bad for self-esteem. We want to feel good about ourselves, for man is 'naturally good' and should not be made to feel bad unnecessarily. Make no mistake: there is a strong emotional appeal to such new ideas, which lies entirely apart from their scientific merit. And how are the children to fare? They'll adjust, is the apparent afterthought. Seen in this light, Russia's Order of Family Glory is a quaint relic of the past and will eventually be phased out.\n\nThis new branch of science, called evolutionary psychology, purports to explain how men came to prefer physically attractive women in the first place. A low waist-hip ratio—say .70 or so—is associated with good health and thereby fertility.16 One can almost picture such favored creatures as having convenient shelves upon which to balance many babies, without which she is prone to drop and kill them all. It helps in the struggle for survival to have such a figure, and that it how preference for it came to be encoded in the very DNA of men. It is the very reason male eyes and heads snap about in the presence of a pretty woman. They wouldn't _be_ perceived as pretty were it not for the dictates of human survival.\n\nIs there really any proof for this or is it merely the biblical equivalent of \"fables fit for old women?\"17 Only an Internet search will convince the person of common sense that the above models are real and not mere joking on the part of this writer—for here is offered nary a hint of the scientific method that we all learned in school was the very hallmark of science. As pure speculation, the biblical equivalent of which the Witness organization advises members against getting too caught up in, it may be tolerable. But it is taken as cutting-edge science. Your children will learn the underpinnings, if not the specific teaching, amidst their diet of higher learning. They may even be subject to written exams, where they have to spit back the nonsense to the professor.\n\nFrom time to time in Watchtower literature one can read that the Bible does not disagree with \"true science.\" Plainly, Witnesses do not regard the above as \"true science.\" They regard it as the fraudulent kind, as indeed they do much of the framework of evolution. But that is not to say they reject every aspect of it. The typical Witness parent sees that evolution chart and wants to turn that parade of ascending ape-like creatures about and march them right back into the slime from whence they came. But he must take care. _We_ are not the religionists who put dinosaurs on the Kentucky ark.18\n\nWatchtower publications speak of the days of creation as epochs and the time preceding as aeons since Scripture does not insist upon \"day\" being the 24-hour variety.19 Witnesses refrain from instructing scientists on their own turf. A lot can happen in epochs and aeons. If God churned out living creatures as an assembly line churns out automobiles—well, _that_ he could easily do in a 24-hour day. So what is the point of the epochs and aeons? In 2006, Awake Magazine interviewed scientist and author Michael Behe, who accepts evolution in the main, but stipulates that it has limits.20 They would not have done that if the two hated each other's guts, would they?\n\nNo one is being dogmatic, here. Science is accommodated to the maximum extent without ignoring Scripture, which Jehovah's Witnesses consider the most reliable guide to life. The 2010 brochure _Was Life Created?_ states: Were these original \"kinds\" of plants and animals programmed with the ability to adapt to changing environmental conditions? What defines the boundary of a \"kind?\" The Bible does not say....This statement implies that there is a limit to the amount of variation that can occur within a \"kind.\"21 Thus the Witnesses' current view allows for what is described as micro-evolution (within a kind) but not macro-evolution (outside of a kind). But 'implies' is not an ironclad word, is it? The point is, for the Christian, if the time element for developing life is indeed epochs and aeons, you need not squabble much with scientists who describe them. Let scientists be scientists and Bible teachers be Bible teachers. Vast areas of conflict disappear, though certainly not all. Resolve your 'cognitive dissonance' by saying 'I don't have to know everything just now.'\n\nJehovah's Witnesses call theirs 'divine education.' Their Governing Body is ever dubious of the latest offerings from the intellectuals, since they know much of it will prove to be the \"every wind of teaching arising from human trickery\" of Bible verse. It will be \"profane babbling and the absurdities of so-called knowledge\" that \"by professing it, some people have deviated from the faith.\" It will be the waterless clouds and the cisterns that leak. It will be the pit that the blind lead the blind into—for ideas have repercussions. It will be things of atheism, of self-determination, of moral experimentation, and of amoral evolution.22 It will be the things furthering the cause of nationalism. It is not Jehovah's Witnesses who feed the war machine with millions of their young, thereby ensuring there will never be peace. Neither is it Jehovah's Witnesses whose values result in millions of lives lost to drug abuse, tobacco deaths, or overdrinking; their education safeguards against such things. For every quality-of-life 'glitch' that exists among Jehovah's Witnesses, the greater world has fifty.\n\n'We hold these truths to be self-evident,' begins the American Declaration of Independence, _'that all men are created equal.'_ But to those raised on a diet of evolutionist rationalist thinking, it is not at all self-evident. What _is_ self-evident is the chief ape of '2001 – A Space Odyssey' realizing that it can wield a club and wallop the daylights out of the other apes. What _is_ self-evident is the children's game King of the Mountain, in which the victor shoves rivals aside so as to take their place.\n\nIn contrast to current educational models, it is the Bible that makes equality self-evident. \"He made from one the whole human race to dwell on the entire surface of the earth,\" it says, \"and he fixed the ordered seasons and the boundaries of their regions, so that people might seek God, even perhaps grope for him and find him.\"23 If there is one thing that even the most ferocious opponents of Jehovah's Witnesses will agree upon, it is that the faith has proved successful in realizing equality among members. The non-Witness world enjoys little success in this regard. It ought not be surprising. The Witnesses' prime education model makes clear that all are equal. Outside the Witness world is an evolutionistic origin-of-life view that makes clear that they are not. Why should not Christians focus on the former rather than the latter?\n\nBible knowledge was long deemed indispensable to a well-rounded life. That has changed only in recent decades, as persons have redefined 'well-rounded' and have divorced themselves from their historical roots. The range of human knowledge today becomes exceptionally broad but correspondingly shallow. Typical, and a foremost example, of the past is Abraham Lincoln, who peppered his speeches and papers with biblical references. To his son questioning, as any reasonable child can be expected to do, why he needed go to Sunday School, he said: \"'Every educated person should know something about the Bible and the Bible stories, Tad.\"24\n\nHistorian Michael Nelson wrote: \"For all his mockery, Lincoln was consumed by religion as a subject, as well as by the Bible, a book that all of his biographers agree he had read and studied assiduously since his youth. Although disdainful of Christianity in its cruder, frontier forms, Lincoln seems to have been open to, even seeking, an account of the faith that rang true on grounds of reason and justice.\"25\n\nThe farmer does not begin hoeing out the weeds until the harvest-time. Even Abraham Lincoln was not able to make things out; he was ahead of the curve. He had great respect for the Word, but incomplete understanding. The time was not yet right. Persons were not yet roving about. To a friend, Lincoln gave the best advice he could: \"Take all of this book upon reason that you can and the balance on faith, and you will live and die a happier and better man.\"26 27\n\nThe theme of John 3:16 has ever reverberated through history: \"For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life.\" Even though persons could not explain just how that worked, they knew the verse nonetheless. Few did, and do, know 'just how that works'—church doctrine is so convoluted that most reasonable persons give up searching and acquiesce to a science-absorbed world that declares it all nonsense.\n\nOne of the benefits of Jehovah's Witnesses is that they do know 'just how that works' and they are ever ready to explain it—sometimes to people's dismay as they see them yet again traipsing up the driveway. There was once a saying among Witnesses that new ones ought to be locked up for six months until their zeal was tempered by common sense. It is not to their credit that they know what they know. They simply live in the right time period and have accepted the invitation to explore words \"kept secret and sealed until the end time.\"28\n\nIn a nutshell, Paul's letter to the Corinthians says it all: \"So, too, it is written, 'The first man, Adam has become a living being,' the last Adam a life-giving spirit...The first man was from the earth, the second man, from heaven.\" Per the Bible model, Adam pulled the plug on himself when he disobeyed God—and the blades of a fan disconnected slow down. He and all his offspring lost out on a life which could have been to time indefinite. No succeeding man can undo the damage, for none have the perfect status that Adam forfeited. Only if another perfect man comes upon the scene and acts as Adam did not does it become possible to repair the damage. That man is Jesus, the 'last Adam,' who exactly counterbalances the first. To ones putting faith in God's 'swap,' the hope of life indefinite can yet be attained, after all the other consequences of Adamic rebellion are undone.29\n\nThis makes sense only if one discards the Trinity doctrine. If Jesus is equated to God, and not a perfect man, it all becomes an incomprehensible muddle. Fortunately, discarding the Trinity doctrine is not hard to do scripturally—though politically, it is next to impossible. The doctrine lives only by taking certain phrases literally—phrases which in any other context would instantly be recognized as figure of speech.30 Among leaders of the Orthodox Church, the ban of Jehovah's Witnesses is greatly welcomed—though they seek to clarify that they did not instigate it—due to the Witness's rejection of the Trinity doctrine. For example, Church Metropolitan Hilarion said of the Witnesses that \"they deform Christ's teaching and falsely interpret the Gospel. Their doctrine contains many lies: they do not believe in Jesus Christ as God and Savior [he is correct on the first but incorrect on the second], they do not recognize the doctrine of the Holy Trinity, and therefore cannot be called Christians.\"31 (brackets mine) Most churches would reiterate his statement, though not necessarily with his venom—that is how central the Trinity doctrine is. Jehovah's Witnesses reject it with an understanding that it is impossible to draw close to God with that as a default belief to hamstring understanding.\n\nHampered by doctrines that made little sense, the Trinity being but one, when scientists began calling into question the existence of God—in contrast to Galileo, Kepler, and Newton, who thought their discoveries glorified God by uncovering his 'handiwork'32—churches had little to fight back with. They did not wish to miss this latest wind of intellectual thought, so the mainline churches acquiesced to whatever scientists said they must. Manifestly, the teaching of human evolution makes the explanation of a first and second Adam nonsense. What is gained by the embrace of such teaching is a certain esteem in the eyes of contemporary educated persons. What is lost is the key to the meaning of life.\n\nA certain Watchtower article considered for congregation study spotlights a 'flying scroll' that Zechariah saw in vision.33 It consists of a condemnation of theft on one side and of perjury on the other. Immediately beneath the Watchtower paragraph is a photo of a teen looking shifty at a boutique, as though she is about to pocket an item. One critic disdains this literal and mundane application of a vision sent all the way from heaven, and so quickly seeks to shift it to a 'higher' one that one suspects she steals from boutiques herself. In fact, it _does_ seem a trivial application; most would agree. However, it fits well with the context of the paragraph, which is a discussion of the \"spiritual paradise\" that Jehovah's Witnesses say they enjoy. To that end, it offers a practical example of theft that young people especially will identify with. It does not take much to destroy a paradise. One sicko inserted one razor blade in one apple and the celebration of Halloween changed forever.\n\nAt the Regional Convention I can drop my wallet and with near certainty know it will turn up at the lost and found. Can I do that outside of the spiritual paradise? There is a reasonable chance that the wallet will come back to me. But with the money intact? Unlikely. It may happen. But I will not hold my breath. My wallet _did_ come back when I dropped it during a visit to Canada. (It is no picnic getting back across the border without it.) Someone took the trouble to contact me upon my return in the States and arrange its return. I appreciated it. But when I asked about the money within, he said: \"What money?\"\n\nTeaching not to steal at a very mundane level is the very stuff of Christianity. It is what makes all the rest of it work. I both admire the Governing Body and suspect they are somewhat naive in that they teach what needs to be taught without regard for self-appointed experts who will invariably seize upon their material and beat them over the head with it. They need better public relations: PR. Or maybe they don't. Maybe it is just me who thinks they do. Jesus didn't seem too concerned about public relations, either. Maybe it should just be taken for granted that they will fare no better than did their counterparts in the first century, representing a \"sect\" which was \"denounced everywhere.\"\n\nBesides, they might not even know that detractors make mincemeat of their lessons. They take their own counsel, which is the Bible's counsel; they don't go there to check out what the detractors have to say. They are like Jesus, who observed one set of scoundrels slandering him one way and another set slandering him just the opposite way. 'Don't worry about it,' is his advice. \"Wisdom is vindicated by her works.\" He is like David. All day long they would mutter evil things about him, and he just kept his mouth shut, declining to answer.34\n\nOthers would be embarrassed to teach such a childlike lesson of theft at a meeting primarily attended by adults, for Jehovah's Witnesses do not separate their children into Sunday Schools. But the lesson is not beneath the grown-ups. Adults are ever inclined to dismiss the childish application so as to conduct sophisticated debate over a greater application—and then they pinch a scarf or tie clasp from the boutique on their way home.\n\nAt another congregation meeting is featured another lesson so basic that few would call it education. Yet for lack of application of it and a few dozen other spiritual themes, so much of the world's education results is short-circuited—allowing a glimpse into brilliant possibilities and then torpedoing it because its participants cannot get along.\n\nThe video shown was entitled: Remove the Rafter.35 It featured a disgruntled member who thought most of his congregation a bunch of unrealistic oddballs. Even if they were, he came to realize in the end that the only one he could change was himself. As the Bible verse he was considering, in order to give his assigned student talk, faded onscreen, two words remained a split second longer than the others: 'splinter' and 'beam.' This happened three times, and on the third, the word 'hypocrite' also remained. It is Jesus' words he considers: _\"Why do you notice the splinter in your brother's eye, but do not perceive the wooden beam in your own eye? How can you say to your brother, 'Let me remove that splinter from your eye,' while the wooden beam is in your eye? You hypocrite, remove the wooden beam from your eye first; then you will see clearly to remove the splinter from your brother's eye.\"_ 36\n\nAt first glance, it is a slick move from the Watchtower video directors. But it is meant to illustrate a slick move upon the heart. The reason those two words remained, and then three, is that his heart was yet soft enough for them to register—having benefited from previous divine education. A hardened person would not have responded that way. The brother allowed the scripture to mold him. This is how God trains in the congregation, but it would all have been lost upon one who's heart was molded primarily by this world's education. Imagine how differently history might read if this verse was a staple of education, and not just a dreamy footnote. With Jehovah's Witnesses, it is a staple.\n\n'That's _it_?' detractors will ask. ' _That's_ your education?' _That_ , and the flying Zechariah scroll? Yes. It is part of the foundation and it ensures that anything resting upon it will enjoy success. It is the reason Jehovah's Witnesses get along and thereby can accomplish things that the general world cannot. It is no credit to them. It is Miss Daisy telling her grown but illiterate chauffer that, as a teacher, she taught some of the dumbest children God ever put on his green earth, yet they could _all_ read by the time she was finished with them.37 It is purely a result of absorbing one's education. It is the same happenstance as \"they will beat their spears into plowshares,\" the Isaiah passage adorning the U.N. building. It translates into a way of life for Jehovah's Witnesses, rather than mere rousing words.\n\nDo opponents of Jehovah's Witnesses recognize the value of such Bible teachings as the splinter and the beam? No. They assume the organization is using it as 'mind control,' an encouragement to 'overlook whatever sinister things _we_ may be up to— _we'll_ party while you _slave!_ ' One wonders how adults can become so adolescent. When the Witness Governing Body presents Bible teachings, they expose themselves to it first. They not only recognize it as training from God; they also recognize that they themselves are the ones who need it most, since their actions affect the most people.\n\nThe selected articles in the study edition of the Watchtower Magazine used for weekly study of the Bible are more than an outline but less than a complete article. In a pinch, they can stand as one. In fact, they certainly will, for they will take their place in the accumulated volume. But they are not primarily intended that way. Their first use is to facilitate congregation discussion of whatever spiritual theme is under consideration. They could be likened to flour, which does not become a cake until you mix in the other ingredients—the individual comments of congregation members. Afterwards, their work done, the articles are absorbed into the archives, where they may seem curiously abridged. Their primary value was realized at the congregation meeting. There they served to train the hearts which ultimately drive the heads.\n\nScientists identify four fundamental forces of nature: the strong and weak nuclear force, gravity, and the electromagnetic force. For 99.9% of the earth's population, these are irrelevant and there is only a fifth that must be understood: the force of sexual attraction. God didn't want to revisit Adam and Eve after a few hundred years, discover them on a barren planet, and hear them say \"Oh, we were supposed to do _that_? I guess we plumb forgot. Sorry.\" Sexual attraction is the most crucial force to understand, even if it is not of the Four. Pursue the four if you like—and it is good for human knowledge that some do. However, the typical youngster will never approach a black hole of outer space to see the four forces interact. He or she _will_ approach the black hole of sexual attraction that his seemingly overcautious parents have probably told him about. Intrigued by an awakening of desire, he gingerly approaches. All seems inviting, tantalizing—what is this fuss that the old people have carried on about? He edges closer and closer until its sudden irresistible pull grabs and stretches him into a two-mile strand of spaghetti.\n\nA force so strong and capable of bringing so much joy must be understood and harnessed, for it can easily be misused and cause misery. It is underappreciated how sexual attraction has been a major driver of history. Understanding the interaction of the sexes should not be a footnote to education, as it usually is today, but should be among its centerpieces; let the four brainy forces be the footnotes for interested ones to pursue if they like. Jehovah's Witnesses are among the minority of religions holding that sexual relations should be reserved for married persons. For the sake of the general world, this writer will concede that it can be more-or-less managed where there are stable monogamous relationships. However, depend upon higher education to undermine even this stabilizing model. Wish 'good luck' to the world enforcing its new outrage over sexual harassment while overall continuing to hype sex at every opportunity via a hookup culture in which it is recreation absent commitment—it will need it.\n\nWhen the greater world finally wakes up to a moral problem, as it has with sexual harassment, it wildly overacts. Sexual liaisons, involving various degrees of coercion and sobriety, are reinterpreted as rape. Harassment and what was once called 'getting fresh' are equated with rape. Complementing a woman's appearance is even interpreted as harassment by some.38 How will it resolve? It is too soon to tell. Suffice it to say that the Witness environment is one of the few environments where men can be expected to behave. They will hear about it if they don't. It is a result of their education. The occasional miscreant can expect serious chastisement.\n\nLess than two years ago I wrote a book entitled _Tom Irregardless and Me_ , in which I speculated facetiously: \"AI robots and VR porn promise sex so steamy that it's feared people will lose interest in the real thing. Is the world to end with a fizzle, and not a bang, as its inhabitants neglect procreation?\" The 'prediction' becomes less facetious by the minute. Since then, the robotic sex doll industry has exploded. Robots of both male and female anatomy can easily 'outperform' their human counterparts. In a world that neglects to teach men and women how to relate with one another—its mainstream education simply doesn't go there—many can be expected to forget all about the real thing and take refuge in robots. No matter how whacky the Revelation scenarios become of humans threatening to destroy the planet, modern humanity can always manage to top them.\n\nIt is better to stick with the Bible teaching that marriage is a divine institution and listen to its counsel on how to hold it together through thick and thin. You don't follow your 'inner caveman' and move on periodically, even though evolution 'says' you can.39 The mainline sophisticated church, with occasional exception, is ready to accommodate the latest wind of thinking—sometimes eventually, sometimes immediately. Evolution they dare not defy, for they do not want to lose more credibility than they already have with this world's educated people. While not (in most cases) declaring marriage invalid, they adopt popular ways of thinking that make it all but untenable for the long haul. By dereliction of duty, the Church ensures the unhappiness of young people. It virtually ensures that they will not remain with a marriage partner. 'Let us see how we can incorporate this or that bold new enlightenment,' it frequently says, rather than toting it out straightaway to the curb where it often belongs.\n\nThe world does not make it easy for its education to be had a la carte, as Witnesses prefer. It does not want to give just the diamonds one needs. It wants to mix them with the turds of corrosive teachings that have collectively sunk the overall world. Jehovah's Witnesses do their best to cherry-pick. Sometimes they cherry-pick at the college and sometimes they do so elsewhere. Why not simply accept it all in a package of higher education? Why not just spit out the turds of corrosive teachings later? Alas, we are not built that way. We absorb the atmosphere in which we are immersed. Not so if we are in it for but a brief time. But if it becomes our environment for years at a stretch, then absorb it we do. At seventeen, one is still but a child, with values that are far from stabilized.\n\nUnless your grades are in the toilet, the school apparatus is unlikely to bless your plans not to roll over a 12th year of schooling into an automatic 13th, for they fear you may fall off the rails of career and never remount. Believe me, Witnesses know about this. Their organization, in contrast, unabashedly invites youngsters into full-time service to God as an activity right as rain, often directly out of high school. Youthful activity in the ministry can run concurrently with continued education and complement it. The general encouragement is to view the Christian ministry as one's vocation and the requisite skills to support oneself in it an avocation. Are you, as a youngster, averse to instructing ones two or three times your age? Share what you know in the ministry and let them share with you whatever they wish. You will know what is poisonous and what is not. If you are unsure, take it in sips.\n\nPeople and families differ. Not all take up the Watchtower's invitation for a full ministry straight from high school. Families with a tradition of college often continue in that model; some circumvent the 24/7 pitfalls of higher education by commuting from home. Furthermore, academic offerings, requirements, and environments vary from place to place. Nothing is cast in stone regarding Witnesses and overall education. Sometimes after an interval, Witness adults will return to college with a specific goal in mind. But seldom is it the goal of a Witness family of lesser means to send their first child ever to college so as to lay hold of a life that was closed to the parents. Frequently it is the goal to have that child pioneer. Telling and preparing persons for the 'true life'40 is the main goal of Jehovah's Witnesses. The secular education that they choose seldom disregards that overall purpose.\n\n'A la carte' can come in the mysterious ways that God is sometimes said (not by Witnesses) to work himself. This writer stumbled across a BBC list of the top 100 important books of all time. I discovered that I had read over half. No other commenter had read more. Is it boasting to slip this into the book? Hardly. Take it as an invitation to be a janitor, for it is while so employed that I 'read' most of them via the Books on Tape service. On Twitter, I came across a CEO who grumbled: \"Stupid janitor forgot to leave an extra roll of toilet paper – I'm screwed.\" I tweeted back: \"I read 54 of the BBC's top 100 books as a janitor via Books on Tape. Sorry about the toilet paper.\" There are even people who deliberately _choose_ menial work so as to not turn their minds over to 'The Man'—corporate or government interests. The Man may reward you materially, but he does not do so without demanding your soul. One can always read the great works, if one has a desire to, on one's own, free from the indoctrination of the world's educational system.\n\nThey wouldn't let my homeschooled son read when he briefly forayed into public schooling; it was ever workbooks for him. When he later entered community college, they declared his math skills age-appropriate and his reading skills \"off the charts.\" \"I had no idea that there were so many stupid people,\" he innocently remarked later. How can they not be stupid? The intellectual diet of this system of things is one of pop culture, transitory trends, and video games. He had never been denied those things; he had simply been directed to keep them in their place. And nobody on the homeschool front gave two hoots about workbooks. He could read all day if he wanted to and sometimes he did. \"He _reads_?\" exclaimed a local educator, an ally, to my wife who had asked what she should do. He then ventured: \"Don't do anything.\" Do not mess up that formula.\n\nThe notion of Witnesses 'redefining' education does not come unchallenged in a world long used to another model. The Bible describes life under God's kingdom rule as 'the life that is true life.' What does that say as to this life? Take the Bible too seriously and one will assuredly experience kickback from the model that holds that _this_ life is all there is. A 2017 National Public Radio report was entitled 'Lack of Education Leads To Lost Dreams And Low Income For Many Jehovah's Witnesses.'41 The writers had found former Witnesses who lamented that they had not gone to college while they were in the faith; their parents and most in the congregation had discouraged it. Some had attended after leaving the Witness religion, but they got a late start and were upset that they were behind the curve. I dutifully read the article, but I didn't need to; the headline says it all: Just where does one look for fulfillment of dreams? Witness orientation is to look to 'the true life.'\n\nThe NPR story is not inaccurate, but it is incomplete. Witness parents will often encourage their youngsters to train for work as high-paying as possible, then do as little of it as possible, so as to focus on the Christian ministry, for that they regard as the most important activity in this present world. This is likely to put you on the lower rungs of the income latter, though not for the reasons NPR stipulates.\n\nUniversity education represents to Witnesses an invitation to trash the faith of their child, for humans are not immune to their surroundings. Thus, some hideous new style appears and within ten years it is widely adopted by ones who wonder how they ever could have imagined those peculiar styles of yesteryear did anything for them. Peer pressure unfailingly works with such trivial matters. It also works with matters substantial. Witness parents wish for their children to avoid an anti-religious minefield that embraces the assumption that humans have the answers, that embraces throwing off restraints, that portrays obedience as bordering on the pathetic. They regard such education as intensely indoctrinate and ever harping on trendy issues. The foregoing is a generalization. Some subjects involve less traipsing through the minefield than do others—technology or engineering, for example. There are some times in life when a person _does_ choose to enter a minefield. But they don't go waltzing through it. They think long and hard before they do it at all.\n\n\"To be fair, one should compare the satisfaction statistics of ones who have chosen the college route,\" one commenter (me) appended to the article. In pursuit of dreams, if they are in this system of things, surely it must be factored in what is the cost of those dreams, for they are far from free in the United States. And what is the likelihood of achieving them? The job market in most places is hardly stellar. Chart wrongly in the U.S, and one can easily end up with a mundane job, or no job at all due to being 'overqualified,' but saddled with tens of thousands of dollars of debt that cannot be discharged under current law. Higher education (in the U.S.) offers an uncertain ticket into a high-priced unstable job market that it itself has created. A six or even eight-year degree is the minimum requirement for most high-flying careers of today. Mike Rowe, in testimony to Congress, stated that education in the trades offers by far the most secure route to a well-paying job.42 That sort of education can often be had free. Sometimes high schools offer it.\n\nJehovah's Witnesses are nothing if not eminently practical, and they do not salivate over an education model that has become dysfunctional. They seek practical skills that pay well, are easily transferable, and don't sap time and energy that is more profitably directed towards God and family. It does happen that a Witness youngster steered away from college may later come to regret it. Since the beginning of time parents have steered their children. Since the beginning of time some children, as adults, wish they had been steered differently. But surely it must factored into the overall equation the many more youngsters who were steered _into_ college by the school system, taking on enormous debt, and came to wish they had listened to someone like Mike Rowe instead.\n\nThe world does well to take ownership—'hold itself accountable,' to use the current buzzword—of all that its system of education has produced before insisting that every student drink his or her fill. If higher education was worth the price of admission it would have resulted in a far better world by now. Jehovah's Witnesses are willing to bypass it all as something superfluous. Should one touch upon it, do so as a hobby. Don't imagine it is the stuff of life. Beyond some gadgets made by Bill Gates and Steve Jobs, two men who _dropped out of college,_ (does _that_ account for their groundbreaking success?) where is the evidence that it is indispensable? To some extent, this parallels the prodding of the contemporary feminist _herstory_ movement; prove that your version actually works before you carry on too much about your _history_.\n\nSince Jehovah's Witnesses go light on college education, the Pew Foundation unsurprisingly reports them the least educated of all faiths.43 So be it. Their relative shunning of college is deliberate, as they redefine what it means to be educated. They focus on moral training so basic as 'getting along with each other,' which would enable the world to do something with its education were it able to embrace it. \"A day of divine education is worth a thousand years of college,\"44 one (me again) might say, who has seen both, and who admittedly likes hyperbole. Focus on the moral qualities. You can always run out and get secular education piecemeal when you need it. Don't let them tell you their education is a prerequisite to life. Embrace their lauded Greek heritage, and you embrace whatever is today's moral counterpart of pedophilia and misogyny.\n\nEmbrace Bible education instead and tell the Pew Foundation to take a hike. They don't care anyway. They just measure things. But opponents of Witnesses grab hold of their charts and cry to the heavens at how stupid Witnesses must be. Don't be intimidated by them. The most basic invention of the West is the toilet. It, combined with some other lifestyle and drug innovations, predictably contributes to constipation over time, for squatting best suits the anatomy, as any toddler knows and as the uneducated still do.45 Nobody's thinking is as constipated as that of the Western critical rationalists. See them demolish each other online as they argue topics to the death. Sometimes one wishes they could just learn to let go.\n\nWoe to those who pride themselves on their critical analysis, as though no other means of communication exists. Jesus has little use for it. He speaks at length in the gospels, yet very little of what he says would satisfy today's disciples of argument and reason. He spins involved parables which he rarely explains; let the heart figure it out. He diverts from hostile questions by asking counter-questions that reveal motive. He even resorts to ad hominem attacks of a sort: a major no-no to today's devotees of reason—though he always connects it with a reason, so that it is not really ad hominem but more like courtroom character cross-examination. Nowhere does he patiently reason on the 'facts' with his steadfast opponents because he knows their only relevant fact is that they want him dead.46 He says: \"Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him on the last day.\"47 He lost many disciples that day. What a stupid thing to say if his main concern is to persuade devotees of 'facts'! But if his prime concern is, not heads, but hearts, then it is flawless. Persons of heart hung around, waiting for elucidation. People without heart departed; their time was too valuable to waste unraveling riddles. If the heart is pure, one can work with whatever mind accompanies it. If it is not, the mind is a mixed blessing at best and at times a downright curse.\n\nTo translate the Bible into 200 languages, a website into 900 languages,48 and printed material into even more, using exclusively volunteer labor, is truly a colossal, one might say unbelievable, achievement—where is Baran's hagiography critic when you need to show him something? Yet it is typical of the organization of Jehovah's Witnesses. It is not done through 'college power.' Whenever intellectuals insist that insufficient university training hampers Witness volunteer translators, they miss the point that _they_ should come to _us_ , not the reverse, since Witnesses have done what they can only talk about. They are correct that there is little higher education to be found among the countless translators. Any specialized training has come a la carte, and most has been produced in-house, by persons who do not horde their knowledge or sell it but make it freely available as needed.\n\nIt is 'talking'—how hard can it be? A child brought up in a dual language household effortlessly picks up both. In a tri-lingual household, he picks up all three. The sticking point is not the intellectual work; it is assembling, motivating, and empowering qualified volunteers—volunteers, so that the end result is affordable. These factors are the strengths of Jehovah's Witnesses; their education has trained them to be that way. Granted, the translating of _ancient_ language adds a challenge, but this is a factor only for producing a master text. Master compilations of the Greek, Hebrew, and Aramaic scriptures are readily available, and the Witness organization has over eight million members, some of whom will be linguistic experts and who won't insist that their name appear in spotlights because they have dedicated their lives in service to God. One expert among the Witnesses is worth fifty in the greater world, because they don't fight. They don't engage in turf wars. They know how to share. They know how to cooperate and bring their \"gift to the altar.\" They display the wisdom of the ants, not that of the big dumb male animals that ram each other with antlers so as to prove 'who's the man.'\n\nOur people produce a straight-forward master text in English. All the volunteers worldwide are schooled in translation techniques. They are all encouraged to ask questions about specific problems or verses, and when they do, the answers become part of a database accessible to all. A significant number of translators are young people who know both English and their native tongue—their parents know only the native tongue. Could these plainly qualified persons ever be used on any sizable commercial project? Not on your life. Without a university degree, they would not be allowed within 100 yards of it. The final translation product of the Witnesses is affordable due to the volunteer workers. It is made affordable again by not having to rely upon this world's for-profit distribution channel.\n\nThe free transfer of intellectual knowledge is key to making this work. The greater world will not do this. Knowledge is passed along, but only for a significant fee. One must pay the significant, even exorbitant, cost of higher education in order to be entrusted with anything of significance. Even after that, knowledge transfers only on a for-pay basis. None of this blockage occurs in the Watchtower organization. Witnesses are also well known for freely sharing physical abilities in other venues; Watchtower is the largest construction outfit in the world and the Witnesses' mobilization for disaster relief is the envy of government. Freely sharing intellectual abilities is just as important, and it makes things like the '900 languages' a matter of routine.49\n\nA Nepalese man quoted in the Watchtower magazine expresses appreciation for the New World Translation in his language. In English, there are many readable translations—the New World Translation is far from the only one. But in Nepalese the choice is meager. Nobody cares about the Nepalese man because he does not have any money. He is stuck with some 200-year-old turkey of a translation that he cannot understand and likely cannot afford anyway, until the New World Translation comes along to meet his needs. It is a situation that is repeated in many lands.\n\nWhy has not the greater church world seen fit to equip him with an understandable and affordable Bible? It has far more resources to draw upon. Can it be for any other reason than that it does not consider his spiritual needs important? Even if it should, it is beholden to a profit-driven commercial channel of book distribution that does not consider his _monetary_ means important and therefore does not bother. Dare we say it? \"Those people\" do not count when it comes to spiritual things. Only those with money count. With Jehovah's organization, they _do_ count. In fact, they are often given priority, since it is the ones of lesser means who have ever responded to Bible truth more readily than those well-off. One sixth of the world's population today cannot read, a byproduct of an educational system skewed toward the privileged. How many even know that these people exist? Only Jehovah's organization produces simplified versions of materials already written simply so as to reach them.\n\nIf you are serious about proclaiming 'this gospel of the kingdom in all the inhabited earth,' then naturally, you will have such a website with 900 languages. In an ill-advised (in my opinion) suggested magazine presentation, a Witness calls attention to the website, and then asks the householder: \"Do you know why we do it?\" \"What—do you think I'm a trained chimp?\" one actual person found in the ministry responded, \"of _course_ I know why you do it! You want to reach people!\"\n\nWhen your car needs repair, do you take it to the shop that has equipped itself with every modern tool? Or do you take it to the shop content to operate with hammer, vice grips, WD-40, and duct tape? Shouldn't anyone serious about carrying out Christ's commission to preach be so well-equipped as Jehovah's Witnesses? Aren't they inept at best and frauds at worst if they have not equipped themselves in such a way? There is no excuse to be so negligent. They show either that they don't care about Christ's commission to proclaim his kingdom or that they are incapable of the cooperation needed to get the job done. Cooperation, love, humility, coupled with reasonable intelligence, will trump the results of this world's system of education every time.\n\nHuman institutions universally look to higher education for leadership. Successful entrepreneurs are even awarded honorary degrees after the fact, a tactic that serves to maintain the illusion that only college people can amount to anything. For the most part, respectable religions of this world have followed this model. Its clergy must also have advanced post-secondary degrees. It may be that Paul took direction from fishermen, but that will never repeat on their watch. The Watchtower organization is strikingly unique. It is true to the first-century pattern. It does not look to the greater world's repository of degrees for authorization to lead. Members of their Governing Body are yet fishermen at heart. They don't pretend to take the lead though brains. They take it though heart.\n\nThe Governing Body of Jehovah's Witnesses has no specialized knowledge of anything, generally speaking, but they know where to find it when they need it. They know how to coordinate it. They know how to put it to use for the benefit of others. How obscenely wasteful and discriminatory is the world's system for disseminating knowledge. Knowledge for them is a commodity monetized and sold amorally. It is a business. It prices its knowledge out of the reach of much of the population. It is not the fault of any individual within the system. It is the fault of the selfish model that they make their home.\n\nThe trick is to not copy Sam Gerard's 'The Fugitive' colleague and say \"Well, we're smart, too,\" thus trying to play catch-up with another education that even he considers superior. The trick is to say that you have an education model that leaves theirs in the dust. Without the prerequisite moral training imparted by Bible education, the world does not know what to do with the knowledge it accumulates and is as likely to turn it to harm as to good. Moreover, some of the knowledge it gathers and dispenses in its colleges will turn out to be of the variety Mark Twain derided: knowledge that \"ain't so.\"\n\nThey are smarter than us, for the most part—the university-trained crowd. It is no good pretending otherwise. But most of their plans will come to naught because they are not able to cooperate. A foremost example presents itself in the aftermath of a Florida school shooting in which 17 children died. Such shootings have become commonplace in the United States. Two arguably effective solutions have been proposed. Either ban rapid-fire assault guns or allow armed veterans, who would love the idea of protecting children, to roam the school corridors. Neither will be adopted soon because neither side will tolerate yielding to the other.\n\nThe Witness organization does not let the world bully it into its own mold of education. It has come up with something better. Jehovah's Witnesses with knowledge are generous with it. They don't hoard it. Free from petty competitiveness and jealousy, they give it away and thereby accomplish good that a hamstrung world cannot. The educated world is dismayed to find the persons they look down upon outstripping them in practical deed. Those who are noble strive to get their heads around it and examine a model unfamiliar. Those who are not noble stand on their favorite paradigm of university superiority and ridicule the accomplishments they did not produce. Those who are _really_ not noble try to run the competition off the road.\n\nChapter 7 endnotes\n\nReturn to Table of Contents\n\n# Chapter 8 – Brainwashing\n\n\"Jehovah's Witnesses members are dangerous because they approach people in the street and offer them their literature, introduce themselves as a Christian organization, while their activities are based on manipulating consciousness, and they erode the psyche of people and the family,\" Russian Orthodox Church Metropolitan Hilarion of Volokolamsk explained.1\n\nWitnesses wouldn't be dangerous to anyone had the dominant church not been asleep at the switch. Surely the solution for anyone dangerously offering Bible-based literature is to train people to spot what is wrong with it. If they did their jobs, they wouldn't have to worry about cults. People would see through cults in a heartbeat.\n\nWitnesses hold that \"All scripture is inspired by God and is useful for teaching, for refutation, for correction, and for training in righteousness, that one who belongs to God may be competent, equipped for every good work.\"2 All the Church must do to withstand unjust assault is to make its own people familiar with the book. Why have they not? They have had the time and resources. The Witness model could not be simpler: Acquaint persons with the Word so that they can be guided by it—God's wisdom as opposed to human wisdom. Many people like that model.\n\nFaith is not so important to most people in an overwhelmingly secular age. They keep religion in its place—typically last place. With Witnesses it is unapologetically in first place. That is apparently how Jesus 'the Extremist' would have it. \"Do not think I came to bring peace to the earth,\" he says. \"I came to bring, not peace, but a sword.\"3 Any faith incapable of evoking division is not the faith Jesus is describing. Though overall a godsend, there will be some component of it analogous to waving a red flag before a bull.\n\nPolitics is what is important to most people, even if not to Jehovah's Witnesses. It can and does provoke disruption in many a family. The capacity to provoke disruption is a measure of a object's importance. Jesus voluntarily pursued a course that led to his execution. Did he consider his faith important or something that should be kept in its place?\n\nEarly Christians knew that their gospel would not be welcomed. They knew they would be vehemently denounced, even by family. \"You will be betrayed even by parents, brothers, relatives and friends; some of you they will have put to death; and everyone will hate you because of me,\" said Jesus. They were not to become unduly concerned about this. \"So make up your minds not to worry, rehearsing your defense beforehand; for I myself will give you an eloquence and a wisdom that no adversary will be able to resist or refute,\" their Lord said. \"By standing firm you will save your lives.\"4\n\nJehovah's Witnesses are maligned in the Russian press. For example, a 2400-word article in the General Newspaper of Moscow salivates at the prospect of seizing Witness property throughout the country and mocks their appeal to international law in an effort to prevent that from happening. Witnesses are low beings who \"wet in the toilet,\" would \"clog your brains,\" do \"dark things through Jehovah,\" and as to your money, they would have you \"give the last.\" 5 A follow-up article from SOVA Center reported the Witnesses' consternation at this article, with the words: \"In the opinion of believers, this 'material is capable of arousing hostility on the basis of attitudes toward religion and lead to a stream of violations of the rights of innocent people.'\"6 Do you think?\n\nThose who know some Witnesses personally may think it odd that people who are so agreeable individually can be so dangerous collectively. The ones they know personally are fine people, but somehow, when you put them all together, they become evil. It doesn't quite make sense that it should be that way, but there are other things to think about. Doesn't the Orthodox Church say bad things about them? It is enough for most people, who like the Church because it typifies Russia.\n\nThe Huffington Post criticized the April 20th Court decision. But then it walked its criticism back. If a faith claims to be the one true faith it will sooner or later turn violent, the Post said. At first it may content itself with soft violence, that is, seeking by law to force its views upon others. Should that fail, it will look to hard violence. The writer then cites historical examples of that happening, in most cases skipping the soft violence altogether and going directly to the hard. He then proceeds to base his entire article on the one example, almost the only one he could have chosen, which disproves his point.\n\n\"In America, most of us think of Jehovah's Witnesses as that occasional Saturday nuisance,\" the article begins. \"They interrupt our morning breakfast or afternoon chores to tell us their version of the Christian faith. They cheerfully drag their families along for quiet strolls through the neighborhoods and pass out Watchtower Magazines for us to throw away later. Annoying? Yes. Disruptive? Usually. But extremist? That depends,\" the writer says.7\n\nShould we not agree that if a religion participates in violence, it is extremist, and if it does not, it is not? Is the Post not attempting to erase the distinction between virtual extremism and actual extremism? The article uses Jehovah's Witnesses, unfailingly non-violent, to launch into a discussion of religions that _are_ violent, yet somehow manages to insinuate that Jehovah's Witnesses are the worst of the lot. ISIS spills blood today, but it is hardly unique, says the Post. \"From the Spanish inquisition to the convert-or-die tactics used on Native American Indians, Christianity has been used to commit horrific acts of violence throughout the centuries. Judaism, from which Christianity arose, recorded shocking details in the Torah of the slaughter of entire populations, including women, children, and animals.\"\n\nIt is too stupid to be countenanced. Surely, Jehovah's Witnesses will one day turn violent, the writer hints, even though Witnesses have supplied a 140-year track record that they will not. Their non-participation in both hard violence and the softer political type of violence is common knowledge. With anyone else the writer might have a point. Few factions will not resort to violence when they deem the cause right. Yet, the first group to be branded extremist in Russia is the one group that categorically rejects violence in all circumstances and has proven it since its inception.\n\nActions are not the sticking point with the Huffington Post writer, despite professions to the contrary. It is _words_ that he has a problem with—the words that are Jehovah's Witnesses' only weapon. \"Sticks and stones will break my bones, and words are even worse\"—he doesn't say it, but the implication could not be more clear. His is an attempt to muzzle words that would violate his world view.\n\nNor is the Huffington Post writer worried about the future, issuing his dark warnings about coming violence from the one group that has never offered any. It is concerned with the here-and-now. The Huffington Post is a humanist champion with little use for religion. A religion that actually heeds Jesus' words to 'put down the sword' is not welcome news to the writers there, for it argues against their premise that the worship of God is a relic of the past that humanity does well to outgrow. Humans have the answers, it urges. We must all get on board and pull together. Do not rain on the parade by asserting, as Witnesses do, that human efforts are doomed to fail; surely it is extremist to say such a thing even if nobody picks up a gun. The 'good news' that the Witnesses tell is fake news to the writer, and he does not want it to be told.\n\nMost likely the Post writer realizes that associating Witnesses with physical violence is nonsense, for after he implies guilt by association, he moves on. He uses the complaint as a bridge to another complaint he hopes will find better reception—the supposed threat that Witnesses pose to the LGBT community. This is also nonsense, but it is an easier sell. Jehovah's Witnesses do not allow the homosexual lifestyle within their ranks, and these days that is enough to be considered hostile to those not within their ranks. They would disagree. Can it really be hostile to keep one's own standards within one's own house? The causes of homosexuality are by no means clear. \"Teen Hormones [are] Being Altered by Gender-Bending Chemicals,\" says the Sun and goes on to relate how an ingredient employed in the manufacture of plastic mimics estrogen, and has been found in the bodies of 80 to 90% of teenagers.8—yet another scenario arises to explain sexual fluidity. Who can say? Jehovah's Witnesses are constrained by Scripture from allowing homosexual acts within the congregation, but they do not stir up hostility toward them in the outside world, or lobby for laws to that effect—something many a church does do.\n\nThe Satanic Church of Moscow is also not concerned about deeds. They are concerned about words. They are less hypocritical than the Huffington Post in that they say it outright. \"The Jehovah's Witnesses had an extreme approach. We oppose indoctrination and religious propaganda,\" said the church spokesperson Oleg Sataninsky [his real name not given], as reported in Newsweek. His church is \"flourishing\" and it was pleased with the ban on Jehovah's Witnesses—even \"cheering\" it.9 That there should even _be_ a Satanist church is not thought extremist today in Russia or most other places in the world. However, a religion that categorically shuns violence is.\n\nHis own group is misunderstood, Sataninsky protests. They are not devil worshippers there, he says, nor do they go in for the dark rituals of movie lore. They have nothing to do with the red-suited figure with horns and pitchfork, or to the extent they do, it is merely to tweak the religionists. Instead, they elevate human reason as the foremost star and celebrate its accomplishments.\n\nThey thereby identify with the actual Devil more so than do the storybook depictions of him in the church. The veneration of human reason exactly reflects Satan. It has been the issue from the opening Genesis account: Satan urging the first human couple to disobey God and thus be \"like him, knowing good and bad.\"10 They are urged to set their own standards of right and wrong—who needs God, anyway? He is just a tyrant set on stifling human accomplishment, charged the Devil back them, as he charges today. In the elevation of human reason, the Satanic Church is not unlike the Huffington Post. Jehovah's Witnesses represent the polar opposite of both, as they recommend God's teaching as the highest source of wisdom. Most of the greater religious world straddles the fence, here stressing things spiritual, there bending to the latest innovation of human reason, and thereby incurring the wrath of the Post and the Satanists to a lesser degree than does the Watchtower organization.\n\nIt is not deeds opponents fear. It is words. \"This gospel of the kingdom will be preached in all the inhabited earth,\" says Jesus.11 It will not, says the Russian government, the Orthodox Church, the Huffington Post, the Satanic Church, and a host of other opposers. The specific words these various groups are concerned with may differ, but it is always words, and not deeds, that upset them. The problem with words is that they can be strung together in many different ways—and not just the ways these ones prefer. What will be the result of words when strung together as these opposers would string them? Jesus answers: \"In fact the hour is coming when everyone who kills you will think he is offering worship to God.\"12\n\nA month after the Court decision, Alexander Dvorkin, the anti-cult expert, crowed about the outcome he helped mastermind. At last the coordinating organization of Jehovah's Witnesses would be shut down so as \"to protect the civil rights of the members of this organization.\" He was \"absolutely convinced that after a few years, the number of members of the organization will decrease dramatically, two or three times, because, when one cuts off its financial foundation, its ability to freely, without hindrance, recruit other people, to rent large halls and so on, then, in fact, people will lose interest and will very quickly disperse and, in this sense, this decision is very correct and far-sighted.\"13 In other words, when you cut off someone's limbs, that person can be expected to die. He champions his role as protector of the _individual_ Witness by severing ties to their organization.\n\nTheir fate serves them right, he says, because \"Jehovah's Witnesses do not recognize the foundations of the constitutional system of the Russian Federation, forbidding its followers to bear arms and participate in elections.\" And \"by the way, as far as I know, [reports are] sent to the headquarters of the organization in the United States.\" In fact, Jehovah's Witness do report to their congregation the amount of time engaged in the ministry, and the aggregate number is sent to headquarters for worldwide compilation and the better coordination of ministry resources. Some grumblers allege that Witnesses thereby care more about hours than people. It is a cheap shot. The hours _are_ people, to whose spiritual needs Witnesses are devoted.\n\nIndividual Witnesses spread their message \"by deception,\" Dvorkin says, and thereby those they speak to are \"deprived of basic human rights.\" He spreads his version of the gospel outside the country, too: \"Many times I have faced and tried to speak with different so-called human rights organizations, which, again, are sponsored mostly from abroad, that there is a specific case of people who are affected by sects... there is actually a struggle for human rights [that] is replaced by the struggle for the rights of organizations that violate the human rights,\" he says. Note how he disparages various human-rights organizations which are \"abroad\" as \"so-called\" because they do not acquiesce to his point of view. The European Court of Human Rights does not agree with him? That is because it is a \"so-called\" human rights organization.\n\nWhat he is saying is that members of Jehovah's Witnesses are being manipulated by an overpowering organization. He dislikes organizations that coordinate and magnify words he opposes, but he cannot attack Witnesses individually without appearing intolerant, so he attacks their organization. He has no problem with other organizations, such as his Church, or even the government itself. But Witnesses should not be organized, especially from outside the country. He is saying that Witnesses are being brainwashed to do all they do. It is an old accusation, just worded a bit differently. Dvorkin is playing the role religionists have played before he was born, using state apparatus to squash enemies, doing so under a guise of People's Protector. Always religion pursues the same path: wrestle a majority and then kill off the competition. It happens everywhere—with politics, with science, with religion, and with philosophical outlook. Often the stated goal is to protect people, as it is with Dvorkin. Even the drug lord says his competition sells bad stuff.\n\nBy liquidating the Witnesses' branch organization, he thinks he puts an end to this threat to Witnesses' civil rights. What he is saying is that, when faced with persecution, Witnesses will fold. He is the actor taking the place of the Jewish leaders of early Christian times—so excited to have struck a lethal blow against the religious upstart, and so persuaded that will be the end of it.\n\nThe historical record reads: \"On that day, there broke out a severe persecution of the church in Jerusalem, and all were scattered throughout the countryside of Judea and Samaria, except the apostles...Saul, [the Apostle Paul pre-conversion] meanwhile, was trying to destroy the church; entering house after house and dragging out men and women, he handed them over for imprisonment...Now those who had been scattered went about preaching the word.\"14 Dispersion of Christians didn't work back then. Nonetheless, the sufferings of those in the first century were substantial, and there are reports of the same in 21st century Russia. \"What are you doing, weeping and breaking my heart? I am prepared not only to be bound but even to die in Jerusalem for the name of the Lord Jesus,\" said Paul regarding tests he knew he would face.15 One can find one's heart broken. Witnesses around the world all ask themselves whether they, should their turn come, will be as courageous as their Russian brothers are called upon to be in facing this latest machination of the Devil.\n\nOn June 10, 2010, the European Court of Human Rights, adjudicating legal mischief stirred up in Moscow several years prior, found no evidence to support the accusation that Jehovah's Witnesses use \"mind control.\" \"The Court finds it remarkable that the [Russian] courts did not cite the name of a single individual whose right to freedom of conscience had allegedly been violated by means of those techniques,\" it said.16 However, the Russian Supreme Court was not chastened by this rebuke and saw no need to cite a name for the April 20th trial, either. They did, however, find every need to not hear representatives of foreign embassies who might, for all they knew, have sided with the European Court.\n\nIt is the pearl of great value that Jehovah's Witnesses spotlight. They spot its worth immediately. Jesus states: \"The kingdom of heaven is like a merchant searching for fine pearls. When he finds a pearl of great price, he goes and sells all that he has and buys it.\" Most people today would consider this merchant a fanatic—by today's definition, even an extremist. Jesus indicated his was the example to follow. Will Russian Witnesses relinquish it because Dvorkin twists their arm? It is a battle for hearts that is waged, not a battle of might. The heart will recognize the pearl of high price and will do anything to lay and keep hold of it. Unless God puts his finger on the scale, hurtling anyone on the other side into oblivion, Witnesses will always lose the battle of might. But they will not lose the battle of hearts, any more than Christians lost it in the days of Acts.17\n\n\"And this gospel of the kingdom will be preached throughout the world as a witness to all nations, and then the end will come,\" Jesus says. 'It will not be preached!' says Mr. Dvorkin, in effect. \"We do not want you to be unaware, brothers, about those who have fallen asleep, so that you may not grieve like the rest, who have no hope,\"18 Paul writes. 'Let them be unaware!' Mr Dvorkin responds. 'Maybe the house Church will explain it someday.' \"Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God. For just as we share abundantly in the sufferings of Christ, so also our comfort abounds through Christ. If we are distressed, it is for your comfort and salvation; if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which produces in you patient endurance of the same sufferings we suffer. And our hope for you is firm, because we know that just as you share in our sufferings, so also you share in our comfort.,\" again writes Paul. (NIV)19 'If you kids don't stop whining about comfort back there, we'll give you something you'll wish you were comforted about!' yells Dvorkin. But, as anyone who has ever driven a car with kids in the back seat knows, they will not be so easily dissuaded. The mountain vista on their assembled puzzle is too persuasive for them to be dissuaded by the diatribes of any anti-sectarian.\n\nHaving inculpated the Russian Orthodox Church, let us walk back on it, as though we were the Huffington Post itself. The ban of the Witness organization is a gift for the Church, and some clergy squeal with delight as they open it, as though kids on Christmas morning. But they did not originate the gift. It does not come from the world of religion. It comes from the irreligious world of the anti-cultists of France, and it is imported into Russia via the emissary Dvorkin, as Joshua Gill points out in chapter 3. It is like another Russian import of 100 years ago: Marxism, exported to the country by outside powers in hopes of neutralizing the country's might in the face of World War I.20\n\nIs Russia to be forever abused by outside factions pursuing their outside concerns? Once it was Marxist ideology injected into the country from Germany. Later it was the anti-cult crusade from France. More recently it is denunciations from the United States for meddling in its election via social media. Ironically, had all Americans been Jehovah's Witnesses, the nefarious scheme would have come to naught, for Witnesses have been trained to be leery of social media on the basis that it teems with liars. An engaging whiteboard video entitled 'Be Social Network Smart' is directed to teens, the most vulnerable population, on JW Broadcasting, and recommends that they 'friend' online only those they personally know. Even adults who do not follow the same counsel are nonetheless put on notice that one does not believe everything read on social media, despite this author's annoyance in chapter 2 that some would appear to do so. And as to the charge of Russian meddling—has the U.S. ever meddled in a foreign election? 'Yeah, we do it all the time,' is the gist of the former C.I.A. chief's comments, and he feels it is not at all the same since it is done in the interests of _its_ brand of government: democracy. Essentially, it is ' _We_ are the good guys so it is okay.'21 Just once I would like to hear of a conflict in which one side or the other says \"We are the bad guys.\" But no. Always, both sides consist solely of the good guys.\n\nThe ban has its immediate root in the 'Yarovaya' law, discussed in the introduction of this book. It has its roots in Article 29 of the post-Soviet Russian constitution, that decrees freedom of religion, but also stipulates it is not permissible to promote the superiority of any one of them.22 It is all a product of irreligion, that begrudgingly allows religion to exist, but only in a watered-down state where it doesn't count. No wonder the Satanist church applauds it to high heaven.\n\nThe true thinkers of the Russian Orthodox Church do not welcome the ban. \"Even among Orthodox officials it's not easy to find supporters of the draconian verdict against the Jehovah's Witnesses,\" the Christian Science Monitor says. \"It is the first major post-Soviet instance in which Russia has moved to outlaw an entire religion, deploying \"extremism\" laws against a group that poses no threat whatsoever of violence, racism, or hate speech,\" it says, highlighting Jehovah's Witnesses' pacifism. Vsevolod Chaplin, a former spokesman for the Orthodox Church, notes that banning Witnesses did not work even in Stalinist times, and adds: \"We should be wiser in this case.\" He doesn't like Article 29. He does not approve of muzzling religious speech as do the Satanists. Chaplin feels that _his_ Church is the superior faith—it is not all Ladas versus Kias to him. \"If the state forbids us from saying that [our religion is superior], it will put itself at odds with the majority of its citizens,\" he says, since most Russians identify with the Church, even if relatively few are actively involved.23\n\nAndrei Kuraev, a professor at the Orthodox Church's Spiritual Academy in Moscow, mentioned in the Introduction, agrees. He picks up on the \"totalitarian\" label of the anti-cultists, but the term is not his: \"Sure, the Jehovah's Witnesses are far from blameless. They are a totalitarian sect who control their adherents and spread bad information about other faiths,\" he says. \"But sometimes our Orthodox preachers do the very same things. I have personally taken part in debates with the Jehovah's Witnesses, and I believe that's how things should be handled. We should have equal conditions. The state should stay out of it and not under any circumstances try to play the role of arbiter.\"24\n\nCan totalitarianism truly fit hand in glove with pacifism? Plainly, something doesn't fit. Since it is not pacifism—few things are as clear as Jehovah's Witnesses 'pacifism'—it must be totalitarianism. The description of 'totalitarian' comes from those who insist religion should be kept in its place as an accessory to a person's life, but not life itself. It comes from the world of irreligion. The Church may benefit being freed from the \"aggressive missionary activity\" of the competition, but it too is leery of being shunted aside as a non-factor. The more spiritual persons among them do not agree that choice of faith should be comparable to one's choice of automobile make, generating a mild debate as to which is better, perhaps, but in the end, who cares? since any car will get you into heaven.\n\nEmily Baran wrote the book on the persecution of Jehovah's Witnesses in Soviet Russia, as discussed in this book's first chapter. Unsurprisingly she has much to say about present developments. The \"idea of Jehovah's Witnesses posing any serious threat to national security [is] absurd,\" she writes in the Moscow Times.25 She is joined in that description by Rachel Denber, deputy director of the Europe and Central Asia division at Human Rights Watch. It is the 2002 anti-extremism law that is absurd in its scope, Denber asserts, more so than the Court decision that logically stems from it. The law effectively \"prohibits any group, except the Orthodox Church and a few other traditions, from claiming the true path to salvation. The Witnesses do claim it, she says, \"but not in a way that should land them on the same list of outlaws that includes al-Qaida and the Islamic State group.\"26\n\nAre Witnesses totalitarian? Do they control people? It is nonsense. College is more 'controlling' than anything Witnesses devise, as discussed in chapter 7. Unlike the Witness experience, college overwhelms and replaces former associates from Day One—gone completely is the stabilizing influence of family, community groups, and long-held friends. Enemies dislike the _conclusions_ that Jehovah's Witnesses have come to. They mask it with concern about their 'controlling methods'—methods that are significantly less controlling than that of the greater world's system of education. \"Indeed, the word of God is living and effective, sharper than any two-edged sword, penetrating even between soul and spirit, joints and marrow, and able to discern reflections and thoughts of the heart,\" says the Letter to the Hebrews.27 The Witness opponent's response amounts to: \"If it penetrates more than butter, it is too sharp.\"\n\n\"Old age and treachery will always beat youth and exuberance,\" says playwright David Mamet. The old were once young and they searched for answers. They found none on most meaningful things, and they gave up. American flower children of the 60s grew into adults more shallow than their parents, ever seeking and never finding, because they dared not search too far off the beaten path. Young people ever insist that they now see the light previously hidden. It is not that way. They have but identified some of the problems, especially the ones that afflict them personally. Identifying the answer is another thing entirely. Their parents eventually gave up. Some want their youngsters to give up, too, and settle for a life practical and comfortable. It is risky to so shunt aside spiritual things. For want of spiritual grounding, people are set adrift. Suicide even becomes faddish among the young. Friends and family express shock. Tragically, the vanilla values they hoped their young would embrace did nothing to prepare them for the assault of modern life.\n\nWitnesses have built up street credibility. They do the work. They log the time. The fair-minded person hears them out on that account alone. Don't spin stories about their pathetic \"need\" to \"save\" people. Their course is no more than putting the lamp on the lampstand by people who know light when they see it and know that one can function better with it than without it.28 Grumblers try to malign the work. It is only because someone is \"making Witnesses do it,\" they say. If they say it to me, I invite them to look around and identify that person.\n\nChalk it up to the Greek word most commonly used in Scripture to convey love: 'agape.' There are four words used in the New Testament that are translated 'love,' but far-and-away the most frequent is agape. It is a principled type of love that attaches itself to an object and does not let go until its purpose is realized. It explains how, with regard to some, love can precede like. Usually the best course is not to correct, but to concede. It _is_ a little absurd that a \"loving\" stranger should appear out of thin air and profess a desire to teach the Bible. Admit it and move on. It is part of the theatrical performance Christians provide for the world in a play that is alternately noble and ridiculous.\n\nNot only should speaking with Jehovah's Witnesses be permitted—one might say (though no one does) that it should be a requirement. Jehovah's Witnesses offer a safe setting in which one can talk about matters that are off the grid of daily life: matters not mundane, matters spiritual. Witnesses are not out to defraud anyone. They are not out for any sordid purpose. If you tell them 'no,' they go away. It is a parent's worst fear that his or her youngster may be drawn into something radical, something that purports to offer answers to questions that they, the parents, have not figured out and have come to expect no more, even supposing it dangerous to pursue such answers. Deep down, they have learned to give up on discerning deep matters of life such as 'Why is there suffering?' 'What is the overall purpose of life?' 'What happens at death?'—they have largely given up on discerning the nature of God, or even if there is a God, yet they are unsure that their offspring will also give up, as they must if they are to carve a traditional career in this system of things. The greater world distrusts those becoming too serious about the Bible, for fear the ones so affected may run a bit crazy, forgetting completely the goals that have been laid out for them. The fear is that they may develop other goals, goals leading off the charted path. What if they even carry on as did Jesus, getting himself killed over religion? Keep religion in its place. Ban those who do not.\n\nJehovah's Witnesses offer a safe setting to explore unconventional ideas with regular people. The worst you can do is to get stuck with somebody awkward or boorish. This _can_ happen despite training not to be that way, for Jehovah's Witnesses are just regular people. But even at their 'worst,' they want nothing from anyone. They are not recruiting. Sometimes, when I am speaking with someone hung up over such things, I will say: \"If it helps, let us both agree that there is no way on God's green earth that you are going to become a Witness. You know it. I know it. So you needn't worry about me maneuvering to that end.\" Yes, I would like to see it. But it is so extraordinarily improbable with any given person—it would take up to a year of discussion were one to join up—that no Witness seriously entertains that prospect in their ordinary contacts. One cannot participate in a Bible discussion without knowing something of the Bible, and usually Witness visits are made solely with that immediate goal.\n\nOne can get stuck with a pest. But one will never get stuck with a menace. At worst it will be someone overeager for a cause and imperceptive. The news is good news, not bad news, and so the temptation is to over-present. Even so, it will be good training for a child on how to deal with the tangle that is humanity today. It represents 'training wheels' for later in life when one will run across scoundrels who are up to no good and one may not know just how to deal with them. Having briefly conversed with an adolescent who turned out to be the only person at home, I took my leave and headed down the drive. The boy's mother pulled up in her car. I told her that I had asked a brief question to her child and he had answered intelligently. \"You should be proud of him,\" I said.\n\nA new stage of hardball was reached when the Russian Supreme Court added the involvement of children in sects or extremist organizations to the list off offenses for which parental rights might be terminated.29 Only two groups of children were identified for State-imposed resocializing: children of ISIS members and \"tens of thousands of children and adolescents\" in families of Jehovah's Witnesses.30 There have been no reports of it happening as of March 2018, but it is a new tool in the toolbox. The proposal does not cause public outrage, but rather enjoys wide popular support. A survey by the All-Russian Center for Study of Public Opinion showed a 79% approval rate.31\n\nIs it a bad thing for parents to teach their children? Should children take their parental training to heart, is it a bad thing to let them follow through on it? It is spun that way in an increasingly irreligious world. Yet, it is not true that if you withhold teaching your child, he will grow up free and unencumbered and, when of age, choose for himself values among life's rich cornucopia of ideas. No. All it means is that someone else will teach him. There are many who would claim the role. Surely the educational system will. Even the Boy Scouts, founded in 1908 in Great Britain by a lieutenant general of the British army, serves to acclimatize children to the notion of patriotic service in uniform and advancement through the ranks, as though in preparation for the military.32\n\nAmong the philosophical underpinnings of compulsory public education in the Western world is that it is well if children are separated early from the possible pernicious influence of the parents so as to be molded by greater society.33 Thus, schooling cannot wait until adolescence; it must start early. To this day, compulsory school advocates stress the imperative of socialization, which they maintain is only to be found in schools. Observing the actions of many youths today, it ought to be clear that socialization does not necessarily tip the balance favorably.\n\nWhen Witness parents are progressive, as all are exhorted to be, they will incorporate into their child's training the family resources found abundantly in Watchtower publications. They will thereby produce emotionally secure offspring. Ideally these will stand up to the current flood of propaganda that labels Christianity passé or even undesirable. It is no more than Parental Glory Award recipient Novik quoting the proverb that gives proof God authorizes and expects parents to provide such training: \"Teach the boy on the right path; he will not shy away from it, even when he grows old.\" Even should children reassess later in life and indeed shy away, they yet have a secure foundation to build upon. At the very least, with a Witness upbringing, they will be comfortable speaking before an audience, a prospect that terrifies many an adult, but which the majority of Witnesses can do without fuss.\n\nWe are, to a great degree, who we associate with. It is intellectually flattering to think otherwise. It is also nonsense. That is why we acquiesce so quickly to style changes and say of yesterday's cars: 'We used to be happy driving _those_ toasters?' We run with the herd not just on small things like styles, but on all things. Always there are those eager to insert themselves up front so as to direct the herd this way or that. In almost all cases, nobody cares more about the child than does the parent. That does not necessarily mean they are right on all things, but it does mean that their concerns should never be blown off as nothing.\n\nWitness children who embrace their moral training may decide to dedicate their lives to God and symbolize it in baptism even at an age as young as ten. Their parents and the Witness organization itself have been criticized for it. Is it a fine idea to allow Witness children to be baptized so young? It clearly is for those who will remain. Having made a commitment, they strive to live up to it, as would be the case for any cause anywhere. Some reassess later in life, however, and family rifts may thereby develop, for the Christian world and the overall world are like diametrically opposed political parties, and diametrically opposed political parties have been known to divide families.\n\nIf only one could tell in advance who was who. If only one could tell in advance who would stay and who would one day depart. You could then tell the latter to hold off from dedication without hamstringing the former. When someone invents such a predictor, please let me know. Meanwhile, if you find something good, it is never considered wrong to dedicate yourself to it at a young age. Successful businesspeople do that. Scientists do that. Entertainers do that. Athletes do that. I've never heard one of them criticized for it. Usually they are lauded for reaching out in quest of their dreams.\n\nDuring our family's homeschooling days, a local couple was fined for violation of the child labor laws. They owned a small deli. It was nothing for their children to take turns at the cash register when they returned from school, and one was doing so the day that Child Protective Services appeared. Sharing in the function of the family business is not exactly reaching for dreams, but it clearly is a part of growing up and learning to handle responsibility. Homeschool pioneer John Holt opined that (not regarding this case, but he had many others) this was the very reason children become delinquent. They are shut out of the adult world under the guise of protecting them.\n\nShould a baptized Witness child later leave the faith, he or she generally finds that most Witnesses lose interest in association. As in most things, people seek out common interests. Look at how many families have been divided over Trump/Hillary in the United States. Does one really think that when Kathy Griffin holds aloft the mock, bloodied head of the President,34 her Republican dad (if he is) says \"That's my lass! She speaks her mind! It won't affect Thanksgiving dinner, though.\"?\n\nSo ones who leaves the faith usually finds that they lose all their Witness friends, and even family, though not in so formal a way. It _becomes_ formal, however, when they leave with a splash—either a determination to practice what is wrong within the congregation or a public denouncement of it. Both courses are likely to trigger disassociation and distancing. One must concede that if someone was baptized young and later left on bad terms and finds himself or herself distanced by family because of it, that is not a good place to be. Who cannot empathize with that? Having said that, it is entirely possible for a person baptized young who later decides to leave to do so without triggering avoidance. Fade. Drift away. Or just tell a few that you don't want to do it anymore. There are some anti-Witness factions that encourage such ones to go out with a bang and tell them all off at the Kingdom Hall! By following their advice, one virtually assures the outcome that they will be avoided. Few governments will smilingly watch their citizens declare them illegitimate, and it is no different in Jehovah's nation. One wonders why any outfit—often \"apostates\" do this—would recommend such a confrontation, knowing the disruption it will bring on a family.\n\nTo serve God faithfully in treacherous times takes a toll. It did before. It does today. People are not stone. They are flesh and blood. Sometimes they complain. Baruch did. After taking flak from opponents, serving alongside Jeremiah for decades, he complained mightily. God readjusted him in the 45th chapter of the Book of Jeremiah: \"You said, 'Woe is me! the LORD has added grief to my pain. I have worn myself out with groaning; rest eludes me.' You must say this to him: Thus says the LORD: 'What I have built, I am tearing down; what I have planted, I am uprooting: all this land. And you, do you seek great things for yourself? Do not seek them! I am bringing evil on all flesh—oracle of the LORD —but I will grant you your life as spoils of war, wherever you may go.'\"35\n\nHis timing was off, that's all. He wanted 'great things?' Nothing wrong with that. Who doesn't want them? But he had forgotten where he was in the stream of time. God was to be \"bringing evil on all flesh.\" If he didn't bolt, he would be granted his \"life as spoils of war, wherever you may go.\" One is again reminded of the NPR story 'Lack Of Education Leads To Lost Dreams And Low Income For Many Jehovah's Witnesses.' Where does one look for fulfillment of dreams? Not all dreams occur at the most convenient time.\n\nDoes one believe it or not—that one is in the final days of this world, however long those days may continue? It is not a question without consequence. Witnesses are serious about their faith. They look beyond this system of things to the new one promised. They make changes in their present life on that account. But if anyone reverses this hope, and decides _this_ world is the one to watch, then their entire life as a Baruch at Jeremiah's side becomes pointless. Some have decided just that, and they have become disgruntled over the time lost. Some accuse former friends of brainwashing or manipulation: a course which is far easier than admitting that one made a decision that didn't work out.\n\nThat Baruch made the right decision for his time becomes apparent in the very next chapter of Jeremiah. The calamity that the prophet spoke of takes place. Of Babylon, God says: \"You are my hammer, a weapon for war; with you I shatter nations, with you I destroy kingdoms. With you I shatter horse and rider, with you I shatter chariot and driver. With you I shatter man and woman, with you I shatter old and young, with you I shatter the young man and young woman. With you I shatter shepherd and flock, with you I shatter farmer and team, with you I shatter governors and officers.\"36 Baruch was probably glad that he got on the right side of that one. Whatever inconveniences he had put himself to, which were considerable, they probably seemed worthwhile. There comes a time when God has had it up to here. Through Ezekiel, he says \"I have heard all the insults you spoke against the mountains of Israel...You boasted against me with your mouths and used insolent words against me. I heard everything!\"37 It is good to go back into your archives and strike out all your insolent words when he starts to carry on like that.\n\n\"Demas, enamored of the present world, deserted me,\" writes Paul to Timothy.38 It is a verse not meaningful to those whose religion differs little from the present world. They may think that they will go to heaven when they die, they may think that God is a Trinity, they may pursue one or two hot-button topics, such as abortion or opposition to, they may advocate for this or that political candidate, but in all major respects, their goals are that of the greater world. It is _this_ world that they hope to make their mark in, not some nebulous world to come. Jehovah's Witnesses look primarily to the world to come. Paul calls it \"the life that is true life.\" Witnesses take practical positions harmonizing with that atypical goal, and it results in many a mischaracterization, some of which are deliberate on the part of their detractors. Everywhere the first century sect that is Christianity is denounced, says Acts. Everywhere they \"insult you and persecute you and utter every kind of evil against you.\"39 You don't pick on groups that people like; you pick on groups that people don't like—just as people most assuredly did not like Christians in the apostle Paul's time.\n\nChapter 8 endnotes\n\nReturn to Table of Contents\n\n# Chapter 9 – Discipline\n\nAfter my father died at 94 years of age, family members emptied out his home. I had never before peeked into his office den desk. I came across a heavy leather belt and I thought of keeping it because it was heavy and it was leather, not the cheap junk they sell today that falls apart in no time at all. \"You know what that is, don't you?\" said my brother. \"It's THE BELT!\" Gasp!!\n\nIt didn't happen like clockwork, but neither was it an especially rare occurrence. \"Just wait until your father gets home!\" my outmaneuvered mother would say. She'd tell on me the moment he walked through the door and then it was one sore rear end for me!\n\nIt was reassuring to my sense of history to see that belt, for the revisionists try to rewrite the past to pretend that corporal punishment was phased out in the civilized world eons ago. In fact, it was an absolutely unremarkable aspect of child-rearing just a few decades ago. It was not necessarily a belt. Usually a sound spanking sufficed. Some had it worse than a mere belt. My older friend's dad had him cut his own switch from a tree, and if it wasn't big enough, dear old dad would cut one himself the size of a two by four.\n\nIt was days of long ago. Don't misunderstand. I make no argument for its return. Don't think that I do. Having said that, it is by no means clear that today's children are happier and better adjusted because of its disappearance.\n\nThe etymology of the word 'discipline' reveals that it has to do with primarily with training.1 It can incorporate punishment, but that is only a footnote. \"Train the young in the way they should go; even when old, they will not swerve from it,\" says Proverbs 22:6. This is the verse that Valery Novik cited in accepting the Order of Parental Glory Award from President Putin. Discipline, as presented in Scripture, is primarily instruction and repetition. \"Take to heart these words which I command you today. Keep repeating them to your children. Recite them when you are at home and when you are away, when you lie down and when you get up,\" says the Torah.2\n\nHow can one not commend Russia for simply _having_ an 'Order of Parental Glory' award? presented by the president himself, no less. Public policy caters much less to family in Western lands; it certainly stops far short of honoring fine examples publicly. There is much of contemporary policy that would undermine family life. It is too bad that President Putin does not read the marriage and family sections of JW.org and watch the cartoons for the children and whiteboards for the teenagers. He would confer the Parental Glory award upon the Governing Body of Jehovah's Witnesses, even though most of them are not parents.\n\nIt is a shame that the Novik family is now forbidden to speak about their faith, since they have credited that faith with making them the glorious family that they are in the first place. Indeed, one cannot even say with certainty that they still have custody of their children, since the Supreme Court has authorized the removal of children for involving them in activities of a sect or extremist organization.3 Everyone knows it is Jehovah's Witnesses they have in mind, unless they are thinking of the community-minded ISIS family down the street, the other designated extremist group. It is a satanic ruling that equals anything of Stalin's era. There can be little doubt that Russian Witnesses call to mind the loyal ones' retort to the ancient king's threat to hurl steadfast Jews into the flames: \"If our God, whom we serve, can save us from the white-hot furnace and from your hands, O king, may he save us! But even if he will not, you should know, O king, that we will not serve your god or worship the golden statue which you set up,\" the three brave lads told him.4 Imagine imposing such a trial on family heads today; even if they were those whom Putin did not give the prize to, it is unspeakable.\n\nFor some time after this writer became one of Jehovah's Witnesses in the 1970s, he would tell persons that marriages lasted among Jehovah's Witnesses and that divorce was unheard of. It was not true. But it wasn't that far from not true. 'One never heard of divorce?' No, it was I who never heard of divorce among the Witnesses and thus assumed it didn't happen. For a new person to think that in a population where everyone quickly comes to know everyone else, they had to be as scarce as hen's teeth, and they were. But they did happen. They even accelerated later amidst an overall explosion of divorce in the greater world that jettisoned away the very concept of permanent monogamous relationship as though something archaic—something to 'move on' from.\n\nWitnesses were then the ducks emerging into the raging current that were slowed down but did not give up. They continued on course. Actually, the literal ducks I witnessed on a recent visit to Canada _did_ give up; they emerged from the shelter of a bridge abutment into an unexpectedly raging current following heavy downpours, paddled valiantly for a few seconds and then thought better of it, turning about and going with the flow. Many church members did likewise regarding marriage when confronted with the flood of a new morality. Unsupported in meaningful ways by their own church, they soon yielded to the current. The Governing Body of Jehovah's Witnesses doubled down with supplying the right biblical education at the right time, and determination to abide by Bible standards in this regard was, and is ever, continually fortified among the congregations.\n\nIt is by not taking a firm stand that illicit conduct is entrenched. God singles out adultery as illicit conduct. It is not a passing phase with him, but it is among the Ten Commandments of Moses.5 Jesus even expands upon it to advise that lustful longing for another's wife is the same as adultery 'within one's heart.'6 It is not hard to see why man's Maker would dislike it. It breaks up families on a scale to make the most sinister cult look like a beneficent marriage counselor. Adultery is not something a marriage readily gets over. Unfailingly it corrodes families, the bedrock of any society. Not only do children in the household suffer, but married children out of the household suffer; their own marriages are imperiled as they wrestle with the question: 'If my own parents could not make a go of it, what chance have I?'7 You do not, in any way, want to normalize adultery. It is a malady like those Paul speaks of that spreads like gangrene.\n\nNonetheless, it is normalized today. When I worked on a job with mostly young people, I let slip that I had been married over twenty years. It was as though I told them I was from another planet. Products of broken homes, most of them, they had never heard of a marriage lasting so long. What chance is there that they will put trust in a model they have never seen work? Adultery is among the reasons God cast aside his ancient people of the Old Testament, summoning Babylon to scatter them. They were as lustful stallions back then, 'neighing' after another's wife.8 In words more mundane than Jeremiah, but dealing with the same time period, Ezekiel lambastes a disobedient nation: \"Each of you has defiled his neighbor's wife.\"9 One wonders how literal it can be? ' _Each_ of you?' Don't open the door to that sort of behavior, because the herd will stampede through. Others who never would have thought of such a thing will entertain the idea once they see it has become in vogue.\n\nAdultery is seriously dealt with in Witness congregations. It is not shrugged off as one of those things. It is the one recognized grounds for divorce that the Bible allows. Many an unrepentant person has been disfellowshipped for adultery. Almost always it involves some scheming so that immediate claims of repentance are taken with a substantial grain of salt. Some eventually make their way back into the congregation, for God is the ultimate judge. Others never do. This policy of no tolerance for adultery was used against the Witness organization at the April trial, presented as evidence of extremism. A summary of one day's testimony included: \"The essence of [one witness for the prosecution's] the statement came down to what she said was the existing 'complete and total control of life by the Administrative Center.' Responding to a request from the judge to cite instances of control, [she] reported that an example was her expulsion from the congregations after she 'began her close, but not officially registered, relations with a man,'\"10 The acceptance of such 'evidence' is but another way of declaring religion should exist so long as it does not do anything meaningful.\n\nOn the mild end of congregation discipline, which usually suffices, there are reminders, elucidation, and admonition. But discipline reserves the right to coerce, to rebuke, and to punish. \"Do not withhold discipline from youths; if you beat them with the rod, they will not die,\" says the proverb, and then even recommends that course as a means to save them from death, continuing: \"Beat them with a rod and you will save them from Sheol.\" [Hebrew, meaning the grave]11\n\nSo unpopular has corporal punishment become in the West that even Jehovah's Witnesses refrain from acting upon these verses. When the Western media covers spanking now, it tells of a fundamentalist church member who unrelentingly spanks his child until he dies, trying to elicit choice words of contrition from the lad that he refuses to say.12 In the face of uncontrollable conduct in the schools, a few administrators have gingerly allowed that corporal punishment might have a tiny place after all. In this new world, a child is occasionally spanked a single time or two with a paddle, and there are teachers, sometimes parents and principal, to witness it, to ensure it does not get out of hand. The American Civil Liberties Union regards it as a major affront to human dignity.13 What was once as routine as breathing air has now nearly gone extinct. Middle Eastern refugees, some of whom respond to the kingdom message, are dumbfounded that perfectly acceptable child-rearing practices from back home are absolutely taboo in their new home. We tell them that it is not just they, but old-time American parents feel similarly disempowered. What was once allowed and even encouraged can now land them in serious legal hot water.\n\nHistory rewritten does not mean the old did not exist. The constant refrain of my youth and the generation prior was of how persons hated physical discipline as youngsters but became glad of it later. Even those graduating from Catholic schools, where corporal punishment could be draconian, where ruler-wielding nuns whacked knuckles for the slightest infraction, would often reflect (rightly or wrongly) that they had benefited from it. But times have changed, and 'corporal punishment' today is a pejorative phrase.\n\nDiscipline in the Bible, which can include physical punishment but does not defer to it first, is portrayed as a good thing, even a necessary thing in raising children. \"Discipline your children, and they will bring you comfort, and give delight to your soul,\" says Proverbs 29:17. \"At the time, all discipline seems a cause not for joy but for pain, yet later it brings the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who are trained by it,\" adds Hebrews 12:11\n\nNeglecting discipline is painted as a bad thing. \"Whoever loves discipline loves knowledge, but whoever hates reproof is stupid.\" (Proverbs 12:1) \"Whoever spares the rod hates the child, but whoever loves will apply discipline.\" (Proverbs 13:24) \"If you are without discipline, in which all have shared, you are not sons but bastards.\" (Hebrews 12:8)\n\nThe model of family discipline can be extended to illustrate how Jehovah deals with his worshippers in general. \"So you must know in your heart that, even as a man disciplines his son, so the LORD, your God, disciplines you.\" (Deuteronomy 8:5) \"Besides this, we have had our earthly fathers to discipline us, and we respected them. Should we not [then] submit all the more to the Father of spirits and live?\" (Hebrews 12:9) \"Endure your trials as 'discipline'; God treats you as sons. For what 'son' is there whom his father does not discipline?\" (Hebrews 12:7)\n\nIt benefits them: \"Happy the one whom God reproves! The Almighty's discipline do not reject.\" (Job 5:17) Discipline is not to be rejected even though it can sometimes be severe, as follows: \"We cried out in anguish under your [God's] discipline.\" (Isaiah 26:16) Also: \"I will continue in my hostile rage toward you, and I myself will discipline you for your sins sevenfold.\" (Leviticus 26:28)\n\nOne can also extend the model of discipline to illustrate how God deals with those of the Christian congregation. Of Israel, we read: \"Then these city elders shall take the man and discipline him.\" (Deuteronomy 22:18) In the Christian congregation, discipline was mostly general: \"For the command is a lamp, and the teaching a light, and a way to life are the reproofs that discipline.\" (Proverbs 6:23) \"Fear of the LORD is the beginning of knowledge; fools despise wisdom and discipline.\" (Proverbs 1:7) Yet those who taught in the congregation would teach such discipline publicly and _privately—_ it could be individualized. \"Brothers, even if a person is caught in some transgression, you who are spiritual should correct that one in a gentle spirit, looking to yourself, so that you also may not be tempted,\" says Galatians 6:1. It could escalate in severity: \"Reprimand publicly those who do sin, so that the rest also will be afraid.\" (1 Timothy 5:20*) It could even become in severe cases: \"Purge the evil person from your midst.\" (1 Corinthians 5:13)\n\n*The \"extremist\" New World Translation is the more balanced here. It renders \"reprimand publicly\" as the more literal \"reprove before all onlookers.\" The Governing Body reasoned long ago that \"all onlookers\" will be those who know of a particular sin, which would seldom include everyone in the congregation. More often it would be just a handful of persons. Moreover, \"reproof\" indicates an appeal to the heart: a far cry from shaming a person before all as a \"practicer of sin.\" Reproof, when necessary within the Witness framework, is done privately between the elders and the individual before such \"onlookers.\"14\n\nDiscipline applied in the Christian congregation benefits individuals, but it is not administered solely for their sakes. Jehovah's Witnesses recognize an obligation to God to present to him a clean people. The Witness Governing Body dares not treat him shabbily, for this is no passing fancy with him. In the Bible Book of Acts can be found the record of a meeting to determine Christian policy: \"Symeon [Peter] has described how God first concerned himself with acquiring from among the Gentiles a people for his name,\" James tells the other congregation leaders. His _name_ is what must be honored. \"Hallowed (make sacred) be thy name,\" Jesus instructs in the 'Our Father' prayer.15\n\nThe people of the congregation become, in effect, an advertisement for God and for his name. If they maintain conduct separate and distinct from that of a morally decaying world, it reflects well upon him and draws other persons of good heart. If they do not, it becomes clear to others that Christian worship does nothing for a person and is but a social and sermonizing clique. To please God, the congregation knows that it must adhere to his standards. Discipline ranging from the very mild to quite severe is part of the package. The ones who rail at congregation discipline as harmful, such as the anti-cult people and the Satanists, are invariably those focused upon individual rights. Yet not everything can be about the individual. Uncorrected bad influences spread \"like gangrene.\" Humans are built that way.16\n\nSexuality in modern times has proven itself more fluid than anyone would have imagined. It does not constrain itself to a one-man/one-woman policy. It does not respect any underage cutoff barrier. It does not respect gender lines; it goes from hetero to bi-sexual to gay and back again. Homosexual relationships, which have always existed, are now beyond edgy and have entered the mainstream in the West. Who knows why it is, but it is. There is the suggestion, from chapter 8, that ubiquitous plastic contains chemicals that interact with living tissue much as does the hormone estrogen. Romans 1:26 is not generally regarded as prophetic, but it could be taken as the Bible's most striking prophesy: \"Their females exchanged natural relations for unnatural, and the males likewise gave up natural relations with females and burned with lust for one another.\" It is not the existence, but the widespread embrace that is staggering; nobody of my generation would have foreseen it. Recently a local couple had their gay pride flag stolen. It was a major news event. I do not condone stealing anyone's gay pride flag and I have never felt an urge to do it. But the _national_ flag can be worn as underwear and people barely raise an eyebrow.\n\nGod's name is not honored by presenting him with a motley assortment of unruly people. This is why many become Jehovah's Witnesses in the first place—they are not drafted against their will. They know that measuring up to God's higher standards will only benefit them. They know instinctively that discipline is not a bad thing. Congregation discipline is usually mere public instruction that the listener takes to heart, unbeknownst to anyone. Correction is usually quite mild, though it can escalate when lesser means have been exhausted to no effect and when a given provocation is serious enough.\n\nGod will ultimately judge those outside. But as for those inside, that is for congregation shepherds to apply Bible discipline.17 To ignore God's perceived standards is to be a false advertisement of him. It is to be \"fake news\" about him. Witnesses realize that God must not be thus shortchanged. 'My people are a reflection of my high standards,' he would say. 'They can't be too high, then,' people respond, looking around in many places, but not in the Witness congregation. If Witnesses carry on about high standards, the intent is not to be self-righteous. It is a manifestation of their being unwilling to displease God by ignoring his requirements.\n\nThis newfound concern, in the case of those becoming Witnesses, is not necessarily appreciated by former friends or even family. Peter says: \"For the time that has passed is sufficient for doing what the Gentiles like to do: living in debauchery, evil desires, drunkenness, orgies, carousing, and wanton idolatry. They are surprised that you do not plunge into the same swamp of profligacy, and they vilify you.\"18 They don't quite know what to make of those new concerns and 'high standards,' but they figure it out in a hurry, and they figure out that the proper response is to \"vilify\" those taking to it. Those truly living Christianity will automatically trigger some hostility from those who do not, for the latter read into it an inherent, even though unexpressed, judgment.\n\nThe Book of Romans counsels Christians: \"You who preach against stealing, do you steal? You who forbid adultery, do you commit adultery? You who detest idols, do you rob temples? You who boast of the law, do you dishonor God by breaking the law? For, as it is written, 'Because of you the name of God is reviled among the Gentiles.'\"19 The Governing Body does not want to see the Name reviled on its watch. That would be an abuse of its authority, if not from the standpoint of humans, certainly from that of God. It is not management of a bake sale they are dealing with. It is the Name. Of miscreants, we read: \"Furthermore, many will follow their brazen conduct, and because of them the way of the truth will be spoken of abusively.\"20 The Governing Body doesn't want that to happen and they counter it to the extent of their ability.\n\nIs it a crime for an organization to insist upon maintaining Bible-based morality among its members—particularly when members sign on exactly because they prefer that morality? Jehovah's Witnesses have chosen to maintain congregation discipline as a buttress to good intentions, which do not alone always suffice, for we are human and swayed by many influences. Those who would deprive them of that right are those who would neuter religion. They are those who would wish it to be a support club for the greater world, and nothing more. Many groups during the past century have chosen to discard discipline. They have that option of course. It is hardly clear that people are better adjusted for having taken that option, however.\n\nWitnesses keep 'shunning' in their tool chest of discipline as a 'Hail Mary play.' It is a last-ditch attempt to insist upon godly morality of voluntary members when all else has failed. At any time, ones who have joined the Witness faith are free to leave. So long as they remain, however, they must live the godly principles they have signed on for. Shunning has a place as a play of last resort. When employed it is tough on the individual, as tough discipline always is. But the individual cannot ever be the sole concern. When you hear people treating \"the greater good\" as a pejorative phrase, then you know the pendulum has overswung towards individual rights. Christianity is nothing if not about recognizing \"the greater good,\" and it starts with its founder. Did Jesus die because he wanted to assert his rights as an individual?\n\nThere was a time when most Christian denominations knew this. There was a time when most Christian denominations disciplined their own members as needed, for they dared not ignore God's insistence of a clean people. No one had to be a biblical Christian back then, but if they chose to become one, they were to abide by 'the rules'. While the rules make plenty of allowance for human imperfection, they cannot be blown off as nothing. \"We appeal to you not to receive the grace of God in vain [miss its purpose: NWT],\" says 2 Corinthians 6:1.\n\nThis is why the Witness organization takes an interest in the conduct of its members, which is now spun as a negative in a world that increasingly denigrates or seeks to redefine religion. It takes such interest, not in order to be intrusive or controlling, but in order to comply with the greater Christian requirements as laid out in the Bible. Even whatever pedophile records exist, which have blown up in the Witness organization's face, would not have existed but for the purpose of identifying this pernicious group so that they be could punished to the degree required and thereafter monitored so that they would not slip from one congregation into another, as they can anywhere else—something few other religions attempt to do.\n\nJust as Daniel apologized for his countrymen, though he had done nothing blameworthy himself, so Ronald J. Sider bemoans America's evangelicals, telling it all in his 2005 book, The Scandal of the Evangelical Conscience.21 Sure, they believe the Bible, as they are quick to tell you. But they don't practice the Bible. They don't apply it in their personal lives. Some do. Some are upright. But in no greater proportion than the world in general.\n\nIt wasn't supposed to be that way, a point which chapter two of his book makes abundantly clear. That chapter is as concise and comprehensive a discussion of the purposed application of the Bible to morality as you will see anywhere. Taking each New Testament book in succession, Mr. Sider highlights verse after verse to show that Christians were (and are) expected to live under Christ's law, and that doing so would produce a people who lived so decently that their _lives_ , not merely their words, would be a drawing card to the faith:\n\n\"Live such good lives among the pagans that, though they accuse you of doing wrong, they may see your good deeds and glorify God on the day he visits us.\" (1 Peter 2:12 NIV. Here we will employ the translation Sider employs, the New International Version, which is also safe and legal to read in Russia. They all are, except for the New World Translation.) \"The acts of the sinful nature are obvious: sexual immorality, impurity and debauchery; idolatry and witchcraft; hatred, discord, jealousy, fits of rage, selfish ambition, dissensions, factions and envy; drunkenness, orgies, and the like. I warn you, as I did before, that those who live like this will not inherit the kingdom of God.\" (Galatians 5:19-21) \"If Paul is even close to being right about what it means to be a Christian, one can only weep at the scandalous behavior of Christians today,\" Mr. Sider states. \"How many preachers today speak that clearly about the sins of greed, adultery, and slander?\"\n\nHe quotes again 1 Peter, just as we have above, but in a different translation: \"For you have spent enough time in the past doing what pagans choose to do—living in debauchery, lust, drunkenness, orgies, carousing and detestable idolatry. They think it strange that you do not plunge with them into the same flood of dissipation, and they heap abuse on you.\" (1 Peter 4:3-4) Apparently, the countercultural lifestyle of these early Christians was obvious to outsiders, he notes. Not so today among the evangelical community. \"Our disobedient lifestyles crucify our Lord anew,\" he writes. After reviewing the evidence, \"we have seen the stunning contrast between what Jesus and the early church said and did and what so many evangelicals do today. Hopefully that contrast will drive us to our knees, first to repent and then to ask God to help us understand the causes of this scandalous failure and the steps we can take to correct it.\"22\n\nMr. Sider then does just that, and then goes on to offer some remedies. _You cannot read these remedies without noting that they are the very building blocks of the Jehovah's Witness organization_. They are all matters of discipline and organization. And they do, to a great degree, solve the woes Mr. Sider describes. First, says Mr. Sider, the Western world's obsession with independence must end, to be replaced with recognition that Christians are a community belonging to, and having responsibility for, each other. Paul goes so far as to say Christians ought to be slaves to one another. Galatians 5:13 literally reads \"be slaves to each other,\" yet most popular translations, Mr. Sider notes, dilute the verse to a more independence-savoring \"serve one another in love.\"23 (but not so the New World Translation. It reads: \"through love slave for one another.\")\n\nMany churches today trumpet that they are \"independent Bible believing,\" yet the very notion is \"heretical,\" says Mr. Sider.24 To be part of the body of Christ, a church must align itself with a larger structure to give \"guidance, supervision, direction, and accountability.\" Jehovah's Witnesses have exactly such a structure in their Governing Body. Opponents rail against it as an agency employing \"mind control.\"\n\nSecondly, Mr. Sider suggests, any congregation with over fifty members ought to arrange its people into small groups, where oversight and encouragement can more effectively be offered.25 They're called \"service meeting groups.\" Since as long as anyone can remember, congregations of Jehovah's Witnesses have made use of such small groups.\n\n'Make it harder to join' is a third suggestion.26 Evangelical Conscience points to early Anabaptists and Wesleyans, as though no modern examples existed, Jehovah's Witnesses being a \"cult\" to many of them. These groups took their time admitting new members, ensuring that their _conduct_ as well as words lined up with Christ's teachings. They did not just settle for a quick \"accept the Lord and be saved.\" Jehovah's Witnesses are well known for requiring an extensive period of Bible study and application as a prerequisite to baptism.\n\nLastly, \"parachurch\" organizations, groups like Youth for Christ, that transcend the larger church structure, have, by definition, no accountability to anybody: \"Many of the worst, most disgraceful actions that embarrass and discredit the evangelical world come from this radical autonomy,\" says Evangelical Conscience. Somehow, such groups have to be brought into tow, though Mr. Sider admits that he has no clue as to how to accomplish this.27 The Governing Body does and implements it, despite howls of protests from the anti-cultists.\n\nSome variation of the internal discipline now practiced by Jehovah's Witnesses was practiced in most Protestant denominations until less than 100 years ago and was based on the same scriptures that Ronald Sider identifies. But when it became unpopular, they gave it up. As a result, the morals and lifestyle of today's evangelical church members are indistinguishable from that of the general populace. The ones who actually apply Christianity are left unreinforced, in some ways even challenged, by their own church. Long-time Witnesses will recall circuit overseers pointing out that 60 years ago the difference between Jehovah's Witnesses and churchgoers in general was doctrinal, not moral. Time was when there was little difference between the two groups with regard to conduct. Today the chasm is huge. Can internal discipline and the organization daring to implement it not be the deciding factor?\n\nAs a method of last resort, the Bible authorizes expulsion from the Christian community: \"I wrote you in my letter not to associate with immoral people, not at all referring to the immoral of this world or the greedy and robbers or idolaters; for you would then have to leave the world. But I now write to you not to associate with anyone named a brother, if he is immoral, greedy, an idolater, a slanderer, a drunkard, or a robber, not even to eat with such a person. For why should I be judging outsiders? Is it not your business to judge those within? God will judge those outside. 'Purge the evil person from your midst.'\"28\n\nJehovah's Witnesses live according to Bible morality; the fact is widely recognized. However, such living is not to be taken for granted. It does not happen without discipline to reinforce each members' resolve to live as Christ did. Expulsion from the congregation is never taken lightly. It always represents a last-ditch effort to reach the individual in addition to protecting the congregation from corrosive influence. Is it necessary? Suffice it to say no group has succeeded in adhering to Bible morality without it. Everyone else is carried along by the winds of popular opinion—some hanging on trees for a while as though in a hurricane, and some already caught in flight, hurtling along and loosening the grips, through collision, of those attempting to hang on.\n\nChurch discipline used to be a significant, accepted part of most evangelical traditions, Sider writes. \"In the second half of the twentieth century, however, it has largely disappeared.\" He then quotes Haddon Robinson on the current church climate, a climate he calls 'consumerism.' \"Too often now when people join a church,\" Robinson writes, \"they do so as consumers. If they like the product, they stay. If they do not, they leave. They can no more imagine a church disciplining them than they could a store that sells goods disciplining them. It is not the place of the seller to discipline the consumer. In our churches, we have a consumer mentality.\"29\n\nGet this undisciplined church mob away from here! Because of their misdeeds, those who must preach the good news in all the inhabited earth suffer. Unfortunately, this is the model that the anti-cult experts today favor, those who attempt to neuter serious religion so as not to pose a challenge for the bland religion they prefer—religion that mounts no threat to their world-view. 'Does God want a clean people? Tell him to take a hike. They'll be 'clean' if they want to, but there must be no outside influence,' say the anti-cult people. Sider's book aptly demonstrates that they will not be clean in that circumstance.\n\nWho would have thought that the greater world would pry into Christianity's internal discipline in an attempt to short-circuit it? Most of religion has complied with this new normal of \"hands off\" as to conduct. They have come to acquiesce that religion is not to be taken too seriously. It is not to get into morals. Morals in the abstract is okay, but insistence on individual morals is \"controlling people.\" \" _We'll_ handle that if we deem it objectionable—and little of it is,\" says the overall world. Discipline used to be \"an accepted and significant part of most evangelical traditions,\" Mr. Sider writes. \"You cannot do it anymore,\" declare the anti-cultists; \"We've moved on.\" With both hands tied behind its back, their Christianity cannot and does not deliver the moral goods, providing detractors ample reason to condemn it. The anti-cult movement is a movement to stamp out meaningful religion. One cannot state it more concisely.\n\nDisfellowshipping among Jehovah's Witnesses is a last-ditch application of discipline to be applied when all else has failed. Aspects of it may be arguable. The general idea is not. The Witness governing arrangement is ever conscious of the individual, for they know that people are fragile and that this system of things appears almost _designed_ to expose a person's individual fragility and then exploit it to the fullest degree. God is not blind to the individual, for 'not a sparrow falls to the ground unnoticed,' but he is intensely jealous over the moral cleanness and exclusive devotion of the group. He shows no sign of getting over it. The Christian congregation is not to be a mere typical slice of society modified by a smiling God logo. It should truly represent morals above and beyond. It should be an oasis for those tired of today's widespread moral decay. This result is not something that happens by chance, but it happens by members watching over themselves individually and as a group. It doesn't happen for Sider's people because they neglect those things, to his disappointment.\n\nIt has been a dozen years or so since the expression 'disfellowship' has been heard in a Kingdom Hall. On occasion the announcement is read that so-and-so is no longer one of Jehovah's Witnesses. Let me tell you that it goes over like a dirge—it is a very sad announcement. It is a lose-lose for both parties, and the light at the end of the tunnel seems not so bright at all—by no means a sure thing. When all provisions for correction and mercy have been exhausted, a person is no longer one of Jehovah's Witnesses if he or she persists in conduct or speech blatantly out of harmony with Bible standards. Has expulsion ever been 'the straw that broke the camel's back?' Judas was so distraught over being expelled that he committed suicide. Even so, nobody would ever think that was the fault of God, nor of his Son who declined to forget his Father's requirements. Almost always the focus today is on the rights of people as individuals. Almost never is it the rights of people as groups, as though what they are as member of groups has no bearing on what they will be as individuals.\n\nDetractors' relentless condemnation of disfellowshipping in the Witness community stems from the viewpoint that a person's immediate well-being is the issue of ultimate importance. It is the same approach of the churches who say it is all about us: all about our own personal salvation and personal relationship with Jesus. Does God want a clean people, since a soiled one, physically, morally, or spiritually, is a reflection on him and makes him 'fake news?' Fugedaboudit! as the expression goes. Opponents would have the world believe that it is primarily about religion not stepping on the toes—ever—of any individual. State can do it if it sees fit, but not religion, for the latter has been assigned the role of \"bringing us together.\"\n\nShould congregation authority be so hard for the Russian government to understand? What of their old proverb about government? \"Ask the children what they want for dinner, and they say: 'ice cream.' They get beetroot soup because they live under communist rule, and not a democracy.\" What is democracy, H.L. Mencken says, but \"the pathetic notion that individual ignorance adds up to collective wisdom?\" It is not so different in the Christian congregation, which is constructed biblically along something better than democratic lines.\n\nUpping the ante significantly is the Bible's authorization of control over some types of speech. It is not an entirely foreign concept to the greater world today. 'Everyone has the right to free speech, but no one has the right to yell 'fire' in a crowded theater,' is a phrase that learned ones will agree upon. Scriptures expand upon the list of things you can't yell in a crowded congregation. New Testament letters to Timothy and Titus tell of some, even some named individually, who \"must be silenced because they are disrupting whole households by teaching things they ought not to teach.\" Some unhealthy teachings \"spread like gangrene,\" and \"they destroy the faith of some.\" Two such \"teachers\" were \"handed over to Satan to be taught not to blaspheme.\" Some others were to be \"rebuked sharply.\" It is not exactly a mecca of free speech that is described.30\n\nSome, described in the Second Letter of John, \"pushed ahead\" and \"did not remain in the teaching of the Christ.\" Of such a person we read: \"Do not receive him into your homes or say a greeting to him\" so as not to be \"a sharer in his wicked works.\" Persons of Western background can scarcely believe it—discipline extends to reproving those who will not control the tongue. Here we run into problems with American-styled churches, for they are so enamored with the Bill of Rights and the Declaration of Independence that they simply _assume_ such ideas are enshrined in the Bible. When shown they are not, they assume it anyway, as though the Bible writers would have said it had they a better way with words. It is axiomatic to them that the church should reflect Western values, the most sacrosanct of which is free speech. However, as American civil–rights advocate Joel Engardio, who was raised a Witness, recalls telling his teachers as a child (to their non-enthusiasm), that God is not an American.31\n\nOne could almost argue that the discipline over misuse of speech is the discipline of paramount importance, for the tongue can do the most damage. \"The tongue is a small member and yet has great pretensions. Consider how small a fire can set a huge forest ablaze. The tongue is also a fire,\" says the Letter of James. Consistently, the governing arrangement of the growing first-century congregation sought to hose down all \"arguments\" and \"pretensions\" \"raising itself against the knowledge of God.\"32\n\n\"Are you so easily stumbled? Is anyone?\" says a proponent of unrestricted free speech, aghast that someone would discourage it. Is there a doctor who says the same to the patient's body cells about gangrene? The doctor of \"individual rights\" might dismiss gangrene as not a cause for concern, but the doctor who wishes to keep his license will not. He will not think that every cell should be able to take care of itself and not be so easily stumbled. He knows that they are not built that way.\n\nSome of what throws a wrench into this discipline for what is ultimately thought a good cause is that, in some cases, the departing one no longer troubles himself about living forever, on earth or anywhere else. He or she has gone atheistic and has come to think the remaining few decades a great bargain, with no sense of being cheated from all eternity. When the world embraces atheism many paradigms shift. One can hardly expect atheists to recognize God's interests that a separate people be kept as clean of this world's defilements as possible. Usually they will read that stated interest as 'judgmental.'\n\n\"Remove the unclean man from yourselves,\" the Bible says. If that one do it himself, however, no one pursues him. But it is the fury that anyone should think them \"unclean\" that motivates some vociferous opponents of the Witnesses; the world has moved on from the notion of moral absolutes. In the West, a rapidly emerging paradigm is that if one is not seen to embrace any new cause, it indicates one is a hater of that cause, notwithstanding whether that course stems from Bible scripture or not. That circumstance may even intensify the perception.\n\nJehovah's Witnesses still maintain, as many faiths once did, that _not_ \"all roads lead to heaven\"—they are not all the same—and that, if one would survive into the new world to come, one must serve God according to _his_ standards and his truths, not theirs. If one leaves to join another religion (for example, surely one who joins the Mormons is no longer one of Jehovah's Witnesses), they have apostatized from the faith. Far from being an extreme interpretation, it is what every denomination should do. Mormons do it themselves, I believe. However, few people take religion that seriously. Few can imagine making such a fuss over God, though they will go for the jugular when it comes to human politics.\n\nFrom their point of view, it has become: Why make trouble over such things? Surely God will roll with it, especially since he may not exist anyway. Denomination is a difference not meaningful to them. \"Why change horses midstream?\" they reason, \"but if you do anyway, who cares?\" When my father, years ago, declared his intention to marry the woman who would become my mother, the Catholic Church said she would have to convert to Catholicism first. \"Forget that!\" Pop said, and they never saw him again. Having little that is unique to offer in a world that is not too spiritual in the first place, most churches today throw away such obstacles to retain members.\n\nJehovah's Witnesses, on the other hand, are absolutely unique; their combination of certain biblical teachings is to be found nowhere else, and they employ Christian correction so as to keep those teachings untainted. Churches have forsaken discipline with regard to apostatizing because they have little to apostatize from. Many have fallen sound asleep spiritually and have acquiesced to the prevailing view that \"all roads lead to heaven.\" Seen from this perspective of the believer, disfellowshipping is not cutting off a family member—so the departing one merely moves up the hour of separation which will occur anyway at cut-off time for this world. Therefore, the ultimate goal in avoiding even a family member who departs for different actions or beliefs is to help him see that he must self-correct spiritually, thus re-uniting the family forever spiritually and otherwise.\n\nJesus pointedly says that, in some cases, choosing him will cause contention in a family, and that if one chooses him over family, it is a good thing, not a bad thing. This is not the world the anti-cultists want to see, so they attach the \"cult\" label to those observing Jesus' words. They reason: \"Surely, these cults use foul means wrestling converts from the mother Church.\" In so saying, they attempt to wrestle Scripture away from the ones who wrote it.\n\nIt is never a piece of cake to turn 180 degrees from previously held positions. It causes discord anywhere. \"Do not think that I have come to bring peace upon the earth,\" Jesus says. \"I came to bring, not peace, but a sword. For I have come to set a man against his father, a daughter against her mother, and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law; and one's enemies will be those of his household.\" And \"Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me, and whoever has greater affection for son or daughter than for me is not worthy of me. And whoever does not take up his cross and follow me is not worthy of me.\" Yes, religion can even tear at the family fabric. Is there anything thicker than blood ties? Jesus' plain answer is in the affirmative.33\n\n\"I have come to bring not peace but the sword\"—nearly everyone other than Jehovah's Witnesses act as though these Bible verses do not exist. Nearly everyone thinks that Christianity should be a subset of the status quo, if not the State itself. Nearly everyone thinks that the minute popular wisdom accepts a new norm, it should be accommodated in the congregation. Nearly everyone cherry-picks, goes for the feel-good verses, and ignores the ones they don't like. This is why their versions of Christianity do not work. This is why people become Jehovah's Witnesses in the first place. \"Finally,\" they say. \"A people who actually _live_ the scriptures and don't use them simply to soften a quest for success in this world.\"\n\nDisgruntled family members who have found themselves on the outside looking in and yet decline to change their chosen course so as to get back in, like the aforementioned witness for the prosecution in the April 20th trial, spread the view that Jehovah's Witnesses break up families. The European Court of Human Rights, when called upon to weigh in on this charge in 2010, didn't buy it, writing: \"It is the resistance and unwillingness of non-religious family members to accept and to respect their religious relative's freedom to manifest and practice his or her religion that is the source of conflict.\"34\n\nDiscipline is a tough sell today. It is decidedly unpopular. The need for it is a constant of life, however. Let us play with the notion as we consider the prophet Malachi. Did he have teenagers? How else can one explain his style of writing? The Book of Malachi is the last b+ook of the Old Testament, a short work of just four chapters. The entire book is read in less time than a quarter of this chapter:\n\nI love you, says the LORD; but you say, \"How do you love us?\"\n\nAnd if I am a master, where is the fear due to me? So says the LORD of hosts to you, O priests, who disdain my name. But you ask, \"How have we disdained your name?\"\n\n\"' _By presenting polluted food on my altar.' 'And you say: \"How have we polluted you?\"'_\n\nBy offering defiled food on my altar! You ask, \"How have we defiled it?\"\n\nYou have wearied the LORD with your words, yet you say, \"How have we wearied him?\"\n\nReturn to me, that I may return to you, says the LORD of hosts. But you say, \"Why should we return?\"\n\nCan anyone rob God? But you are robbing me! And you say, \"How have we robbed you?\"\n\nYour words are too much for me, says the LORD. You ask, \"What have we spoken against you?\"\n\nEnough already! Everything is challenged! Everything is hurled back in God's face. Just for kicks, turn the page. Find yourself in the gospels. What if Mary had answered the angel that way when he announced that she would carry the Child: _\"Hail, favored one! The Lord is with you?\"_ What if she had shot back: _\"In what way is he with me?\"_ Had she talked back like that to the angel it might not be Mary remembered as the mother of our Lord. It might be Olga or Tatiana.\n\nMary did not smart-mouth the angel. She almost seems an anomaly. Paul summarizes God's customary dealings with the Israel of that time at Romans 10:21: \"All day long I stretched out my hands to a disobedient and contentious people.\" In the world of Bible translation, most works list \"disobedient\" as the first adjective when rendering that verse. The second is up for grabs. The house Bible used here, NABRE, says \"contentious.\" Others say \"obstinate\", \"rebellious\", or \"stubborn.\" Some older translations say \"gainsaying.\" The banned New World Translation says \"obstinate.\" But the pre-revised NWT of 1981 hit the nail on the head, by saying that they \"talk back.\" Apparently when that version was revised in 2013, someone thought that \"talk back\" was too much of a departure, but I like it best. After all, in the olde English, \"gain\" means \"against\", so \"talk back\" seems not too bad an update of \"gainsay.\"\n\nJehovah's Witnesses conform to discipline without too much fuss. They are not the sort to engage in political protest over what the king is doing or is not doing. Within the congregation as well, they conform to discipline. They bring to life an observation of Nathaniel Hawthorne: \"People who think the most bold of thoughts have no difficulty conforming to outward norms of society.\"35 Nobody thinks thoughts more bold than Jehovah's Witnesses. By conforming to the usually minimal discipline of the king and the congregation, they enjoy a remarkable peace and unity unknown to the general world.\n\nThough Hawthorne doesn't say it, the reverse of his statement is also true: people who _cannot_ conform to the outward norms of society are apt to be the most inwardly conformist of all. Totally obsessed with the petty freedoms this world has to offer, they are blind to the significant freedoms: freedom from fear of death, for example, that a relationship with God enables. One is reminded of the pigs Jesus sent rushing over the precipice, pigs blinded by the 'demons' of their momentary thinking—too distracted by them to notice the drop ahead.36\n\nChapter 9 endnotes\n\nReturn to Table of Contents\n\n# Chapter 10 – A Governing Body\n\nThe first institution of higher learning in the Western World, the Academy of Athens, was founded by Plato in 387 B.C. Much of what is bedrock to Western civilization traces back to him. Plato recorded his concept of ideal government in which he advocated rule by \"philosopher-kings.\" He favored monarchy, but not hereditary monarchy. Instead, his rulers were to be selected, by already-existing rulers, on the basis of merit. This would follow a lengthy period of education designed to separate the wheat from the chaff, so lengthy that it seems nobody under age fifty would be eligible for consideration. Consider an excerpt from 'The 100,' an intriguing book by Michael Hart, which undertakes to rate the one hundred most influential persons throughout history (Plato is #40):1\n\n\" _Only those persons who show that they can apply their book learning to the real world should be admitted into the guardian class. Moreover, only those persons who clearly demonstrate that they are primarily interested in the public welfare are to become guardians. Membership in the guardian class would not appeal to all persons. The guardians are not to be wealthy. They should be permitted only a minimal amount of personal property, and no land or private homes. They are to receive a fixed (and not very large) salary and may not own either gold or silver. Members of the guardian class should not be permitted to have separate families, but are to eat together, and are to have mates in common. The compensation of these philosopher-kings should not be material wealth, but rather the satisfaction of public service.\"_\n\nAnyone familiar with Jehovah's Witnesses will recognize at once that these words almost exactly describe their Governing Body. Only the \"mates in common\" does not apply. It is too rich—the group that, without fuss, and no doubt unknowingly, actually _applies_ the words of the philosopher Plato, is a relatively uneducated group beneath the notice of many today—Jehovah's Witnesses. Imagine! The standard-bearer of modern intellectuals devises a system of government that they admire, but cannot reproduce, and then the Governing Body stumbles along and says 'Hey, we'll try some of that,' and implements it without sweat!\n\nOne may object that Plato's recommendation is for the government of nations, whereas Jehovah's Witnesses are a religion. But the similarities are more striking than the differences. Worldwide, Jehovah's Witnesses number over eight million, midway on the scale of nations, with about the same population as Switzerland. The Bible speaks of God's people as \"a great nation.\" It shouts: \"Open up the gates that a righteous nation may enter, one that keeps faith.\" It warns religious opponents that \"The kingdom of God will be taken away from you and given to a people [translations vary about 50/50, some opting for 'people,' others 'nation'] that will produce its fruit.\"2\n\nScripturally, Jehovah's Witnesses are a nation as real as any nation on the world's roster of nations today. In fact, they are more so, since their citizens are more united. Their universal reputation of being a moral, decent, and law-abiding people is no accident, nor is it explained solely by their belief in the Bible as the source of divine instruction. It is also the result of effective administration—governing. Many groups that claim to follow the Bible are populated by members whose lifestyles belie the claim, as Sider makes clear in the prior chapter. Jehovah's Witnesses are unified in a common goal and purpose. They practice what they preach. It is all a result of effective governing. They are Plato's dream come true.\n\nThe reason Jehovah's Witnesses can do it and the intellectuals cannot is that Plato's system depends upon persons who are neither ambitious, nor materialistic, nor overly proud. It is not that such persons cannot be found among the general population. It is that the values of this world are such that these persons cannot rise to the top. Once they are spotted, they are dismissed as impractical nuts and shunted off to the bottom, as in some great antitypical game of Chutes and Ladders. But in the world of Jehovah's Witnesses, these people do rise to the top, and part of their very qualifications is that they do not regard themselves as 'rising to the top,' but only as fellow Christians willing and able to serve.\n\nOne can almost entertain the fantasy of Plato himself appearing on the world stage today. As soon as they discover it, today's educated best would rush to welcome him into their homes and, of course, he would graciously accept. In time he would learn that, while he was honored with words, he was yet dismissed as an impractical dreamer with regard to his ideas of government. Eventually (it might take a while) he would discover that Jehovah's Witnesses had put his ideas into practice. He would rush over to Bethel to consult, where they, having no idea who he is, would make him take a number and wait his turn.\n\nIn the first century, the \"apostles and presbytrs\" in Jerusalem formed a governing body to set policy for the rapidly expanding Christian faith. That agency determined how scripture would apply to new developments, much as a Supreme Court might determine how a country's constitution might apply to new developments. Without such application, a constitution quickly becomes irrelevant. The fifteenth chapter of Acts provides a specific example of how Christians were governed then. The specific issue hardly matters; it is not a burning topic today. It is the template that matters. Today, the Governing Body of Jehovah's Witnesses uses that template in directing modern Christian activity. Read it and note the dispute and the agreed-upon channel of redress. Note how, prior to reaching a decision, scripture is considered, both historical and prophetic. Witnesses are heard who testify to the role holy spirit is manifestly playing among the congregations. The resulting decision is put into writing and sent to all the congregations: \"As they traveled from city to city, they handed on to the people for observance the decisions reached by the apostles and presbyters in Jerusalem. Day after day the churches grew stronger in faith and increased in number.\"3\n\nAlas for those who suppose God is an American. Alas for those who suppose Christianity ought to be based upon Western democracy. Churches in America typically paint God that way. He is enthralled with democracy, majority rule and freedom of speech. But it wasn't guidelines being delivered back then by the apostles and presbyters. It wasn't suggestions. It wasn't proposals to be put to popular vote. It was _decisions_ which were to be observed. Nearly all English translations use words as \"decisions\" or \"decrees.\" The New International Version calls them \"decisions for the people to obey.\" The Amplified Bible strays slightly with \"regulations,\" Moffatt's New Testament translation: \"resolutions,\" the Good News Bible: \"rules.\" Only the ridiculously paraphrased Message translation waters down the phrase to \"simple guidelines which turned out to be most helpful.\" Isn't this what one would expect? If God's ways are truly higher than our ways and people become Christians precisely for that reason, does anyone really think that God's ways would be determined by majority vote? If that is the case, what would be the need for God?4\n\nThe apostles and presbyters governed from Jerusalem in what came to be viewed as a God-ordained arrangement. They were not ambitious men seizing power. They were Christians with the most experience, men who had introduced the faith to others, and they saw to their own succession. Is this arrangement to be extended into the present? Jehovah's Witnesses say yes. It is what they glean from consideration of a passage in Matthew: \"Who, then, is the faithful and prudent servant, whom the master has put in charge of his household to distribute to them their food at the proper time? Blessed is that servant whom his master on his arrival finds doing so. Amen, I say to you, he will put him in charge of all his property.\"5\n\nAt first glance, one might wonder if these verses can refer to governing at all. Some hold that they are no more than a nice story with the moral to always do your best. But consider that the verses are embedded in Matthew 24 and 25, two Bible chapters devoted to prophesies and parables about Christ's return. Matthew 24:3 leads with the question posed by Jesus' disciples: \"Tell us, when will this happen, and what sign will there be of your coming, and of the end of the age?\" The next chapter consists of three parables in which the Master returns after a long absence and settles accounts with his slaves. 'What have they been doing while he has been gone?' he wants to know. Some have been diligent. Some have been negligent. Some have kept alert. Some have fallen asleep. Some have done well by his brothers. Some have ignored them.\n\nToday, among Jehovah's Witnesses, that \"faithful and prudent servant,\" found by the \"master on his arrival\" to be giving \"food at the proper time,\" has been appointed over all [the Master's] belongings. It defines a governing body which oversees kingdom interests on earth. As closely as possible, it models itself after the pattern set by that first century governing body. In this way, congregations of Jehovah's Witnesses are governed. They thereby maintain unity and stand for something separate. They do not merely reflect national or cultural norms of the day endorsed and slightly modified with a God \"smiley-face.\"\n\nMembers of the Witness Governing Body are not bluebloods born into privilege. They are ministers illustrating the root meaning of the word: 'through the dust.'6 They have not been _as_ lowly as their 'brothers.' They have been _more_ lowly than most of them, engaging in the full-time ministry throughout their lives—humble, door to door work, often humbled again through assignments to poverty-stricken locations. To cite author Hart, they have \"applied their book learning to the real world\" and have \"demonstrated that they are primarily interested in the public welfare.\"\n\nEven now, they essentially live in dormitories. They are _nice_ dormitories, to be sure, but they are dormitories, nonetheless. Their basic needs are covered, but they are not amassing pensions or retirement plans. They needn't hitchhike to get to where they want to go, but they generally relied on public transportation back in the day. Though heading an eight-million-member organization, when they fly, it is via commercial flight. They thus typify again Plato's ideal government: \"The guardians are not to be wealthy. They should be permitted only a minimal amount of personal property, and no land or private homes. They are to receive a fixed (and not very large) salary and may not own either gold or silver....The compensation of these philosopher-kings should not be material wealth, but rather the satisfaction of public service.\"7\n\nMembers of the Governing Body could be described as having been set on high, who have prepared for it by time spent in places low. They would say that they strive to be examples of trusting in God. They read the Bible regularly, a course they advise for everyone else, reflecting the kings of ancient Israel who were directed to read the Mosaic Law daily. When they devise some new Bible-based training school, they put themselves through it first, where they are ever reminded of what they aspire to be. Yet, even as they are aware of their own imperfections, they do their level best to shepherd the flock, to ward off sectarian influences, and to give direction in order to meet current circumstances. They issue \"decisions\" as their counterparts did in the first century.\n\nThey hold to the Bible as best they can and unabashedly refer to it as \"God's Word,\" a designation the more liberal churches abandoned decades ago, possibly so that they would not be looked down upon by intellectuals. They like God's pleading expressed by Isaiah: \"If only you would attend to my commandments, your peace would be like a river, your vindication like the waves of the sea.\"8 Peace is a good thing. They are ever vigilant to teach God's commandments so as to help ones attain it. They take God's side as the murmurers complain: \"The LORD's way is not fair!' Hear now, house of Israel: Is it my way that is unfair? Are not your ways unfair?\" If the brilliant thoughts of those who think them truly were worth the paper they were printed on, surely they would have resulted in a better world by now.9\n\nIn view of the modest means of the Governing Body members, Hart's further assessment is readily understood: \"Membership in the guardian class would not appeal to all persons.\" There were persons of the first century who wanted Paul's authority—but not his work. These were the \"superapostles\" referred to in 2 Corinthians, ambitious men coveting power. Some of them made a grab for power, mostly by disrespecting direction from the \"apostles and presbyters\" and teaching whatever they pleased within their sphere of influence.\n\nPaul became so fed up with them that he, at one point, seemed to take leave of his senses: \"Are they ministers of Christ? (I am talking like an insane person). I am still more, with far greater labors, far more imprisonments, far worse beatings, and numerous brushes with death. Five times at the hands of the Jews I received forty lashes minus one. Three times I was beaten with rods, once I was stoned, three times I was shipwrecked, I passed a night and a day on the deep; on frequent journeys, in dangers from rivers, dangers from robbers, dangers from my own race, dangers from Gentiles, dangers in the city, dangers in the wilderness, dangers at sea, dangers among false brothers; in toil and hardship, through many sleepless nights, through hunger and thirst, through frequent fastings, through cold and exposure. And apart from these things, there is the daily pressure upon me of my anxiety for all the churches. Who is weak, and I am not weak? Who is led to sin, and I am not indignant?\" One can almost picture caretakers hauling him off for a sedative at this point and a check of blood pressure! How much can a man take? _He_ does the work! _They_ grab the credit! Most of Paul's would-be usurpers were essentially established men comfortable in their home congregations, lacking the track record of Paul but confident that they had the wisdom to compensate for that lack.10\n\nOne of that number, Diotrephes, ruled his local roost. The apostle John says: \"I wrote to the church, but Diotrephes, who loves to dominate, does not acknowledge us. Therefore, if I come, I will draw attention to what he is doing, spreading evil nonsense about us. And not content with that, he will not receive the brothers, hindering those who wish to do so and expelling them from the church.\" The same drama plays out in the modern-day with some insistent that they should have greater input in \"decisions\" that are made through the governing arrangement and who are inclined to second-guess them all.11\n\nMembers of the Governing Body are selected by existing members from the tiny subset of Witnesses who profess to be anointed. Details of this anointing are doctrinal and dull to non-Witnesses and well-known to actual Witnesses. Suffice it to say that it is a group numbering just 144,000 (a number taken from Revelation) throughout all Christian history. Consequently, almost all of Jehovah's Witnesses today look forward to everlasting life on earth under God's kingdom rule, but this small number profess the hope of being part of that rule in heaven upon their death. There they will be a \"kingdom and priests for our God, and they will reign on earth.\"12 They 'profess' this hope but once a year—never verbally—by partaking of the wine and unleavened bread at the celebration of the Lord's Evening Meal, the only meeting of Jehovah's Witnesses of which a portion could ever be described as ceremonial.\n\nSince those with the heavenly hope self-identify, is it possible for a person to do so simply to one day assume leadership of the organization? Were mere education the criteria, such might be the case, but since decades of unpaid service is also a prerequisite to such leadership, it is inconceivable. Among the greatest sins one can commit is to partake unworthily, falsely partaking of emblems representing the Christ. Dishonest persons might blow past this stricture and do it anyway, but they are not going to supply proof of their qualifications with decades of lowly service. In the individual congregations, members professing the heavenly hope—there are only ten thousand or so worldwide—enjoy no special status and are not inclined to draw attention to themselves or their calling. The arrangement is one of the future, not the present, apart from the few who serve as a governing body. At present, that agency numbers eight. The number fluctuates.\n\nThe Governing Body's model is that of 'rising through the ranks.' As in the first century, they are \"men who have given up their lives for the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.\"13 It is a marked difference between leadership in the Witness organization versus leadership in the greater religious world. There, generally speaking, applicants attend a specialized college, earn a degree, find a church to hire them as pastor or assign them as priest. From that start, there may be a promotional ladder to be climbed. Thus, one may eventually become a church leader _having never truly followed_. With those who have served on the Governing Body of Jehovah's Witnesses it has been different. They have spent decades in full-time service performing a ministry more lowly than that of most persons they will one day lead. It is only after, not before, they have \"given up their lives\" that they receive specialized training to lead.\n\nThe Governing Body strives to promote peace with the national \"king\" in whatever nation in which it operates. No king will find more cooperative citizens than Witnesses so long as he does not insist upon invading God's turf. \"Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar's, and to God the things that are God's.\"14 If Caesar wants you to walk a mile, walk two. Don't sulk because he is doing something you don't like—thank him for building the roads you drive on. Don't test him and take up the side of those making him trouble. Honor him for his efforts to keep the unruly in check. Don't niggle him out of his taxes. Pay up. Fear his authority, for the verse cautions he \"does not bear the sword for nothing.\"15\n\nHelp him out where he tries to promote moral strength among his people. He sees some of them falling prey to alcoholism, sloth, drugs and petty crime. Be a bulwark against those things. Pick up the litter in the park that his more careless subjects strew about. In fact, even pray for the king, not for the success of his plans, for that is his business, but pray as Paul advised Timothy to pray: \"I urge that entreaties and prayers, petitions and thanksgivings, be made on behalf of all men, for kings and all who are in authority, so that we may lead a tranquil and quiet life in all godliness and dignity.\"16 Do what the king says. But if he tries to regulate worship or ministry, then there is no choice but to give God's things to God.\n\n'Exactly, your honor,' tell him. 'We'll be nothing but model citizens. Please leave us be in our efforts to declare the Bible's teachings. If we are wrong in our interpretation, we'll look like fools. We'll take that risk. But under no circumstances does it ever become a threat to you, for everyone knows we are the most peaceful people in the world. Do not deprive your citizens the right to decide for themselves about all-important spiritual things. Do not take anyone's word for it that our interpretation of Scripture is wrong, especially when they make little effort to teach it themselves. This advertising of the Bible's good news (gospel) is what we must do, for \"this is good and pleasing to God our savior who wills everyone to be saved and come to knowledge of the truth.\"17\n\nJehovah's Witnesses are often described as 'pacifist' but the description is not technically correct. They are neutral with regard to the conflicts of this world, which goes further than pacifism. They will not fight, but they will also not take a desk job for the war effort. They stay separate from it all. They feel that heroes and villains should be determined by the Bible's measure, and not by the dictates of the national king. There will typically be heroes and villains on both sides. Can the current military person really fit in with God's overall purpose? Since they have demonstrated in this world that they will blow my head off with a gun if some man tells them to, there is a problem. They will have to give up that allocation of loyalty before one could trust them in God's new system.\n\nStill, notwithstanding the seemingly opposite views of Jehovah's Witnesses and members of the military over how patriotism is best expressed, it is not uncommon for the two to have respect for one another. Both recognize the value of discipline. Both recognize the value of self-sacrifice. A professional soldier will often respect the professional soldier of the other side for serving the cause in which he believes. Once they see it is the same with Jehovah's Witnesses serving their cause, perceptions sometimes change.\n\nMany accept it as normal that perception should be determined by the local king and the immediate country, in line with the conventional goals of the overall world. Mark Smith writes that \"the strongest predictors of people's moral beliefs are not their religious commitments or lack thereof but rather when and where they were born.\"18 The Governing Body of Jehovah's Witnesses does not permit such factors to predominate. It is alarming to some non-Witnesses that religion might cause persons to stray so far from the familiar mindset.\n\n\"In the long run, religion is best understood as responding to changing political and cultural values rather than shaping them,\" Smith further states in his book _Secular Faith_.19 The Governing Body does not permit politics or culture to play that trump card among its members. They take a lot of criticism for it. When the herd turns, and they refuse to turn with it, some bruising is inevitable. Often, it will come as charges about \"controlling people,\" and can even escalate to charges of \"totalitarianism.\"\n\nSmith's book charts five contentious issues in America's history: slavery, divorce, homosexuality, abortion, and women's rights. In each instance he shows how religious leaders have allowed their churches to be molded by changing cultural perceptions, not necessarily immediately, but inevitably. Modern church members have more in common morally and politically with contemporary atheists than they do with their own church counterparts of long ago, he observes.\n\nThey reinterpret the Bible when they have to, so as to stay relevant, just as the Russian judge reinterpreted the constitution when he had to. A reviewer of the book declares it \"ultimately hopeful\" that churches so accommodate present trends. He has in mind secular considerations leading religious ones, not the other way around. It is a reassuring message that he brings to those who would mold politics/culture, and even the anti-cultists, that they need not worry overmuch. Religion may drag its feet a bit, but it will ultimately come around to follow prevailing opinion. However, the Governing Body quotes a line from the book: \"Christian leaders have regularly revised their teachings to match the beliefs and opinions gaining support among their members and in the larger society,\"20 and says: 'It doesn't happen here.' The heartened book reviewer is displeased about it, formers of politics/culture are displeased, and a worrisome new target presents itself for the anti-cultists.\n\nThe Governing Body doesn't \"reinterpret\" anything. Or rather, it does, but it is only in cases where former teachings are seen to stem from influences more cultural than biblical. As an example of the former: the scriptural arrangement of headship is now appreciated purely as a spiritual one and need not dictate matters practical. Should stereotypical roles be reversed with the husband at home with the children, and the wife at work, it raises no red flags. In the Witnesses' branch organizations, it is routine for women to exercise authority over men in various areas of workplace expertise.\n\nThere is one more circumstance in which the Governing Body actually reinterprets quite a bit, but not the matters that Mark Smith writes of. They do not reinterpret matters of morality clearly defined in Scripture. However, they lay no claim to being inspired or infallible, but only to taking the lead in the Christian work. \"The Governing Body is neither inspired nor infallible. Therefore, it can err in doctrinal matters or in organizational direction,\" they have written. Who is not disarmed by such frank statements?21\n\nThere is no finer way to get some grousers going than to say: \"Oh, we changed that.\" Hostile people scour past Watchtower publications and discover positions that have altered, and pounce over the 'flip-flop.' It is not a piece of cake looking into the future. Everyone knows that. So if you miss the mark, you back up and tackle the subject anew. The Witness organization does it all the time. For decades, Watchtower publications have spoken of \"tacking\" and the \"light getting brighter.\" What is that if not an admission that they have often been wrong? They are very open about it, so when detractors complain about teachings that have changed, they look pretty silly if they harp on it. It has never been said that they didn't.22\n\nThe present explanation is always a tentative explanation, considered the best out there. If it proves insufficient, members of the Governing Body will, in time, re-examine and present things afresh. They \"tack\" in \"ever brightening light\" routinely. They will no doubt continue to do it as the situation warrants. They make no secret about it. Nor is anyone required to shout from the rooftops any current interpretation. Witnesses trust headship as they would trust the airplane pilot and take for granted he is handling the turbulence as best as can be expected. They don't expect the cockpit door to swing open and the pilot shout: \"Hey, anybody here know how to fly this thing?\" Though the flight attendants may retreat with their refreshment carts of coffee and juice, passengers fasten their seatbelts as advised to ride out the rough patch without undue concern. They don't reach for the flotation seat cover. They know that if God is worth his salt, he can provide capable human leadership. They know they haven't signed on to a democracy.\n\nThat other point the Governing Body just clarified? You may have pondered that point some time ago in your own private study of the Bible. And if this was the greater church world, you would have run out and started up your own sect over it. Instead, Witnesses wait on the human authority they are convinced God has provided. Sometimes that authority has been wrong in expectations. When they are, it is like misreading a bus schedule and is not the basic fabric of the faith. It is a disappointment, but it does not change anticipation of the bus's arrival. This author goes way out on a limb with a flippancy unmatched to liken several missed date perceptions of the early 1900s to the time you missed the nail with the hammer, and in frustration, swung several times more, again missing each time. What can you do? It would be nice had it not happened, but it did. If one has to go back over a century to dig up dirt, there can't be that much dirt to dig up. Nor do they do anti-types anymore—\"this is an anti-type of that'—probably because too many have blown up in their faces. You get almost as much bang for the buck, with no downside, by saying \"This reminds us of such and such.\" Who is there that can come along later and say that it did not?\n\nThe things Jehovah's Witnesses have reinterpreted, or even flip-flopped on, are all superfluous things. They are all trimmings on the tree, and not the tree itself. The essential doctrines of Jehovah's Witnesses that distinguish them from any other religion have been solidly established for over 100 years—teachings that the Trinity is unscriptural, for example, and that the soul does not live on after death. These are the important points that one should focus on. No one else figured it out. Forerunners of today's Governing Body did, constituting powerful evidence that they are indeed led by God's spirit.\n\nAmong the basic tenets discerned 100 years ago is that human salvation is not the prime issue before all creation, but the vindication of God's name and purposes is.23 It is a huge distinction between Jehovah's Witnesses and the general world of churches. It is the approach of so many of the latter who say that it is all about us: all about our own personal salvation and relationship with Jesus. It invariably makes one self-centered. Invariably it leads to emphasis on rights outstripping responsibilities.\n\nIf the Governing Body has made some mistakes, they nonetheless man up and move on. They are not the cat that Mark Twain wrote about: \"A cat that sits on a hot stove will never sit on a hot stove again. Nor will it sit on a cold one, for they all look hot.\" They take heart that similar blunders occur repeatedly in Scripture. In the first century the word went out among the congregations that the apostle John would not die until the Lord's return. It took John himself to set the record straight. He didn't bother doing so until nearing the end of his life. Perhaps he had thought it himself.24\n\nThe apostle Peter declares that: \"The end of all things has drawn close.\" When the established Jewish world effectively ends with the Roman destruction of Jerusalem in 70 C.E, that is not the end he had in mind. Nevertheless, he probably drops to his knees and thanks God that he was not among those at the Jerusalem Hyatt for celebrations just then. He doesn't grumble about being misled by whomever that 70 C.E. was not the big one. It was big enough. When they tell him they were just tacking, he doesn't complain about it.25\n\nApparently, God is okay with it all, all of the 'tacking,' all of the 'light getting brighter.' If he was upset, he would short-circuit JW.org so that it would read in English and Pig Latin only and not the 900 languages in which it does read. If there was a substitute somewhere that did all that the Witness' organization does in furtherance of the good news, minus the missed hammer swings, the best course would be to go there. But there is not, and it becomes apparent that God puts up with people who miss the nail even as he is trying to overhaul them into people who do it less often. \"All humans are imperfect,\" he says in effect. \"they'll just have to sort through their own blunders.\"\n\nThere are many examples in the Bible of faithful ones doing or saying things that did not pan out. Take, for instance, King David, troubled that he was living in trappings more palatial than those allotted to God. He plans to remedy that disparity by constructing a huge temple. Nathan the prophet gives him the green light. \"Whatever is in your heart, go and do, for the LORD is with you,\" he says. But God tells the prophet to back off. He points out that he has wandered about with the Israelites for centuries, perfectly content with the tabernacle he himself directed be made. Did he ever say that he wanted a house more permanent? However, he does allow that one will be built in the future, only not by David—he is a warring king and the symbolism is not right. It will be built by his son, Solomon, who will preside over an unprecedented period of peace. David wasn't going to build any house! Solomon was!26 Nathan was wrong! Was he a false prophet? Did he carry on over being second-guessed by God? Did David complain about being misled? There is no record of it.\n\nThe closer to significant events, the more eager become the 'prophets.' \"Lord, are you restoring the kingdom to Israel at this time?\" the apostles asked the resurrected Jesus. \"No, I'm not. Mind you own business and carry on in the disciple-making work\" was, in essence, his answer.27\n\nWhen they had asked him about it previously, for \"they thought that the kingdom of God was going to appear instantly,\" he told them a parable designed to show that it would yet be a while and that they should keep busy in that preaching and disciple-making work while he is away: A certain man of noble birth was traveling to a distant land in order to secure kingly power and return. Before leaving, he gives his slaves funds and says they should put them to good use. Upon his return, he finds that the first two slaves have done business and have doubled his money. The third slave has sat idle. \"Lord, here is your gold coin that I kept hidden away in a cloth,\" the fellow explains. \"You see, I was in fear of you, because you are a harsh man; you take what you did not deposit and you reap what you did not sow.\"28\n\nWhat is he saying to the Lord but: \"You want disciples? Get off your rear end and make them yourself!\" The attitude of the 'wicked slave' finds a counterpart in some opponents in modern times who balked at the prospect of preaching to the general public, preferring the more comfortable model of preaching to the congregation—never mind if that is the biblical pattern or not. The 'winners' among them reintegrate back into the greater world and resume life. The 'losers' among them mask their reason with complaints about direction and governance in the congregation and attempt to undermine the work of those who have stayed the course.\n\nIn answering the 'wicked' slave, the master does not deny that he reaps where he does not sow. He even lets stand the slave's perception that he was thereby 'harsh.' Furthermore, he even indicates that he could have worked with such a flawed attitude. Had the slave deposited the money in the bank, a one-time trip, so as to start the ball rolling accruing interest, the master could have worked with it. He may not have jumped for joy, but he would not have delivered the rebuke he did. The parallel account in the 25th chapter of Matthew shows the 'wicked' slave digging in the ground, _working up a sweat_ , to bury the master's money and thus thwart any possibility of his interests benefiting. How can this not correspond to former adherents actively opposing what they once espoused?\n\nNot all members of the faith are zealous in the ministry, though zeal is ever encouraged. Those who refuse are not the same as those who decline to do it. The latter do not deny the ministry; they simply feel, for whatever reason, that they are not up to it. The former turn against it. The latter agree with Jesus that if you have good news, you do not just sit on it; you put your lamp on the lampstand. The public ministry grounds a person. Stray from it at your personal spiritual peril. To the extent possible, members of the Governing Body engage in the house to house work just like everyone else.\n\nThe other action of the 'wicked slave' is to beat his fellow slaves when the master is delaying. Says Matthew: \"But if that wicked servant says to himself, 'My master is long delayed,' and begins to beat his fellow servants, and eat and drink with drunkards, the servant's master will come on an unexpected day and at an unknown hour and will punish him severely and assign him a place with the hypocrites, where there will be wailing and grinding of teeth.\"29 Molasses hardly delays more than the Master, in the eyes of some grousers, the 'wicked slave' counterparts, and they take out their frustrations in attacking those taking the lead, with charges of totalitarianism and mind control.\n\nThe Governing Body has framed witnessing about the kingdom as natural an activity as the sunrise and sunset, to Witnesses and non-Witnesses alike. They have made it a third inevitability that must be acquiesced to. There is death, there is taxes, and there is Jehovah's Witnesses. The message is presented tactfully (ideally). It is augmented these days by methods less 'in-your-face' than house-to-house visits: via Internet and public displays of Bible literature staffed by Witnesses ready, but not insisting, to explain the contents.\n\nIt is no small feat to position kingdom preaching this way, for the message is not popular among humanists who would have us believe society ever moves onward and upward. It is not popular among religionists, for it overturns many a cherished teaching. It is not even popular always with the Witnesses themselves. They see the need for it, and have signed on to the program, but the desire to preach can be tempered by fear of man, leading one to yield to the implicit conviction of many that religion is just not something one speaks of openly—that it is a personal matter as delicate as explaining the facts of life to a child. The Governing Body at times experienced some pushback from those who wanted the faith but also a 'normal life.' 'How can one lead a normal life in an abnormal world?' was their answer. They have largely won that battle. They have held the course. They have furthered the course with ministry expansion worldwide. They are aided by daily news events clearly demonstrating that they are correct in describing the world as 'abnormal.'\n\nJust how God influences this small group is unlikely to ever be clear. The topic is not off limits, but one can only go so far in explaining how it works. Most likely they don't know themselves. They are the imperfect vessels molded by the perfect potter. We don't have to know everything. In fact, we _cannot_ , for here we are peering into the divine/human interface. \"The Spirit itself intercedes with inexpressible groanings,\" says Romans.30 Just try demanding that it enunciate properly. \"Just as you do not know how the life breath enters the human frame in the mother's womb, so you do not know the work of God,\" says Solomon.31 Just try setting him straight on that point. This will be one of those areas in which we can glimpse the fringes of God's ways and no more.32\n\nIt is better for one to focus on manifestations that it works, demonstrated by accomplishments replicated nowhere else. Only the rare passenger, or even driver, is called upon to explain the inner workings of his automobile. Few can. All they really have to know is how to ride in it, work a few controls, and suffer through the potholes it will occasionally hit. It is ever the fascination of persons to describe just how government works. Pundits pry and attempt to worm their way in, and usually get it wrong; at best they get an imprecise glimpse. If that is true with human things, how much more so with spiritual things? God has never signed a disclosure agreement.\n\nIn some respects, the closer one gets to the 'inside' of theocratic things, the more challenge it is perceiving God's direction. Rank and file Witnesses will marvel at how God has supplied just the right understanding at just the right time. \"Yeah, it's only because so-and-so is too stubborn to...\" the jaded insider will say. _This_ is how God 'works in mysterious ways'—the phrase is an escape clause reserved for when religionists must extract themselves from the corner their own doctrines have painted them into. In the case of how God directs humans, however, it is spot-on. We are not going to know it. The critical thinkers are checked. Some of them will overturn the entire chessboard on that account and stomp home.\n\nGod does use a human organization; this much is evident if only by its accomplishments and unity. He uses imperfect humans who have differences and opinions, and somehow hammers out leadership from them. To suggest otherwise is to suggest the Witnesses' critics are right: that Jehovah's Witnesses are brain-washed zombies. No, they are regular people, with differences even at the top and yet somehow God makes it all work. In some strange way that probably they themselves are not aware of, God works through this assembly as they read and meditate upon his written word and as they meet together to discuss it. Things gradually dawn upon them. They have a bevy of helpers, no doubt, to draw upon, but in the end, God works through them.\n\nCan those 'helpers' be identified, particularly if they are acknowledged experts in this matter or that—say, in ancient history upon which any explanation of prophesy must rest? Doubtless there are some who would love to be a fly on the wall at the weekly meetings of the Governing Body. It is unlikely they will be indulged. Likely those participants savor the feeling of letting God's spirit direct them wherever it will. But as soon as someone pins them down with this or that name of a recognized expert, that freedom is compromised. They know that expert will henceforth be monitored so as to get the inside scoop about how things that are spirit work in a human way. Anointed ones are unlikely to discuss it with John Q. Publisher, especially since the ability to keep a confidence is such a rare commodity these days.\n\nThis writer has chosen the role of an apologist. I'll defend what they do. I'll brace myself for the inevitable charges of being a 'lapdog.' My support doesn't mean I don't acknowledge some things might be done differently or that they cannot make mistakes—they have acknowledged that themselves. It simply is not my role to push for changes. If they decide to do things differently, I'll spin positively that new policy too. It's the part I have chosen.\n\nThe Western model of journalism is that of 'exposing' errors that it assumes no responsibility to fix, nor any responsibility to deal with the consequences of stirring up discontent among persons not previously disposed to be discontent. There is no biblical precedent for it and much biblical precedent that would argue against it. This ultimate issue is: What does one prefer—'leadership by the people' or being 'taught by the LORD?'33\n\nDoes the Governing Body arbitrarily decide things without input from 'the people?' That can hardly be said. Each week every circuit overseer in the world sends in a report from the congregation he has served. A cynic would say that they are 'yes men,' and admittedly, all are loyal to the cause, but it is hardly a given that an organization must send out its agitators to represent it. The circuit overseers, especially the more experienced ones, can be trusted to give input about whatever is affecting the congregations. In this manner, it is 'taught by the LORD' and not 'leadership of the people,' since the latter does not always lead to fine ends. It is largely an article of faith in today's world that it does, but a perusal of history reveals that it only occasionally does.\n\nThe Governing Body has its hands full coping, and they are overall doing well in catering to God and not just the individual. I won't tell them where they are going wrong. How would I know? For every line of intelligence I have, they have fifty. Unlimited free speech is a Western concept, not a biblical one. The Bible speaks of ones whose mouths it is necessary to silence, others who should be told not to teach what is false, and others who ought to be rejected after a warning or two for insisting upon having their own way. Many are those who want \"to be teachers of the law, but without understanding either what they are saying or what they assert with such assurance.\" I'll try not to be one of them.34\n\nThe Governing Body plunks along, deferring to what the Scriptures say, I am convinced. They go wherever the Bible indicates to them that they should go. If it gets them in a jam with some component of the present world, they are content that God will somehow get them out of it. They are like the leaders of the first century who were loath to abandon teaching of the word so as to wait on tables.35 That's what helpers are for. Here and there they shoot themselves in the foot. As low-key as possible, they extract the bullet with a grimace at their own mistake and carry on. They will refine and shift and ultimately something will come down through congregation channels and I will say: \"Yep, it must work, or there would not be the 900 languages.\"\n\nThe application of Bible principles is always a qualification of authorship for Watchtower paper or digital publications. Some recognized scholar of the greater world might submit a guest article on nearly any outlet, but it will not happen on JW.org. One must apply Christian principles in order to have a voice. They may or may not in the scholastic world, but in that of the Governing Body, they do. Doubtless they miss out on some scholarship through such insistence, but they also safeguard themselves from much error, as it is not uncommon for yesterday's scholarship to become today's trash.\n\nGranted that the ship may not always turn on a dime in secular waters. It takes a while to establish that something really is something and not just the tossing of flotsam on the waves and the trickery of men. On the Internet there are many who would tell the Governing Body what to do. It is the Internet and people can do what they want. But such correction by the people, though popular today, is not the Bible pattern. When David truly _was_ being a scoundrel, and really _did_ need correction, it was not the people who called him on it, but an already established prophetic channel.\n\nLeadership by apology is in vogue today. Should the Governing Body apologize for any wrong interpretations they ever offered up? Apostates demand it, though one gets the sense their motivation is primarily to make their former associates squirm. How much and how often leadership should apologize is a matter of style. Suffice it to say that among determined opponents anywhere, an apology only stimulates demands for more apologies, and the more apologies never lead to forgiveness, but only demands for resignation. The technique is employed everywhere, not just, or even primarily, in religion. But when it happens in religion, it plays into the greater goal of halting the preaching of the gospel worldwide.\n\nThe worldwide disrespect of authority of any kind is shocking to behold for someone raised just two generations prior. It is people in ecstasy to tear down with nary a care over the rebuild. 'The people flounder where there is no wise direction,' says the scripture, yet the anthem of today is the words of the second Psalm: 'Let us cast their chains from among us!' Witnesses don't go there. It is enough to occasionally admit to blunders, such as was done with overemphasis on a 1975 date, and cover the rest with tacking and lights getting brighter.36 Everyone knows that humans are imperfect and make mistakes. What is important is to conduct oneself with humility and to 'pour oneself out' in God's service. This the Governing Body has done.\n\nProminent ones in Bible times were wrong about many things, yet I cannot recall one of them apologizing, other than Paul for insulting the high priest who had slapped him. When he learned that it was not a common thug, but the high priest of God, he apologized. It is the only example that comes to mind.37 Honest-hearted persons do not demand apologies. Persons not honest-hearted are not satisfied with them. What! When Jesus says his followers would be hated by all the nations, it is because of missteps of the Governing Body? Jesus would be wrong, and the whole world would love Christians today were it not for the miscues of clumsy ones?38\n\nThe Governing Body has assumed an almost impossible task: that of representing Christianity before a hostile world. It is made impossible once more by representing authority in a world that despises authority. Governing Body members strive to be 'infants as to evil.' They distrust the greater world's higher education. They think of Paul who considers it 'so much rubbish.' Having little of it, they find it hard to separate the wheat from the chaff, and so are apt to say it is all chaff. That's what they have helpers for: to figure out the separation. Unfortunately, the helpers may not be up to speed either. Ah, well—their world works and the one based upon human wisdom does not. They don't lose too much sleep over their lack. \"The spiritual person can judge everything but is not subject to judgment by anyone,\" they cite the verse. One can worry too much.39\n\nIf a platform can be built upon, surely that argues in its favor. If it cannot be, surely that argues against it. Much of contemporary life is predicated upon lofty ideas that fail when implemented. Strangely, that failure does little to cool the ardor of true believers. The platform of the Governing Body does not fail, because it is based upon the Bible's pattern, not their own, which they maintain is of God. Bible teachings implemented have enabled diverse persons to cooperate and build a structure for advancement of the good news that is unparalleled. One is reminded of the scriptural admonition to 'taste and see.' One cannot _prove_ something tastes good. One has to taste and see in order to find out.40\n\nMuch Bible education laid out for Witness consumption is laid on with a trowel—the Governing Body is not subtle. Let the Witness be warned by Jesus words: \"Every scribe who has been instructed in the kingdom of heaven is like the head of a household who brings from his storeroom both the new and the old.\"41 It will not be just the new. It will also be significant repetition of the old. No matter. It is a battle for hearts and minds being waged. Does the Devil state his point once and then discreetly retire? No. He will be like the computer app that notices you checking out vacation cruise prices and thereafter drowns you relentlessly in ads until you crack open that wallet and book a few trips. It is not easy instructing a group, for one person will barely notice that which has pummeled his neighbor into the ground. Let them err on the side of clarity if they are to err. Pummel them all if they must. It is their role to coordinate the chorus of Ephesians 4:11-16:\n\n\" _And he gave some as apostles, others as prophets, others as evangelists, others as pastors and teachers, for building up the body of Christ, until we all attain to the unity of faith and knowledge of the Son of God, to mature manhood, to the extent of the full stature of Christ, so that we may no longer be infants, tossed by waves and swept along by every wind of teaching arising from human trickery, from their cunning in the interests of deceitful scheming. Rather, living the truth in love, we should grow in every way into him who is the head, from whom the whole body, joined and held together by every supporting ligament, with the proper functioning of each part, brings about the body's growth and builds itself up in love.\"_\n\nAre they 'authoritarian' as has been charged? They do no more than reflect the sentiments of Jesus, who said the road to life would be constricted and narrow. Do they emphasize obedience? They do no more than reaffirm Paul, who even added 'submissive' to the list. They do no more than advocate the wisdom from above that James speaks of, which is 'compliant.' They do not want to find themselves in Lot's shoes, giving direction at a crucial moment only to find that his sons-in-law think he is pulling their leg. Leave them be to operate. Everyone knows a back-seat driver is obnoxious, especially when he tries to grab the wheel. Critics groused about leadership all during Moses' time, too, even trying to redirect the bus back to Egypt.42\n\nAre they 'controlling?' From the world's point of view, that of 'anything goes,' they are. But if you weigh their policies against commentary of freedom of speech and independent thought found in the scriptures, they are easily within the ballpark. A person who represents them in some capacity, say as an elder or pioneer, will find it necessary to become 'an example' of the faith, and reign in some personal freedoms that the rank-and-file need not do. The former can lose privileges by flying in the face of counsel as to what is locally acceptable or has been published. It is that way in any organization. \"Much will be required of the person entrusted with much, and still more will be demanded of the person entrusted with more.\"43\n\nJehovah's people are not belligerent or headstrong and are not inclined to blow off counsel or a certain peer pressure as nothing. They are inclined to heed the \"wisdom from above,\" which is \"compliant.\" Elders are not control freaks or micro-managers. It is never a matter of petty rules enforced by people who just like to meddle. Anyone who carries on like that jeopardizes his reputation as a 'reasonable' person—one of the criteria for serving as an older man. Continual training serves to refine and improve elders, who are people, after all, with all of the baggage that people carry.44\n\nNobody has any problem with God. It is always with his human representatives. This was true with Moses, as has been seen. It was true even with Judas. He and God were tight. But Jesus looked pretty human to him, not at all qualified to do what the Messiah was supposed to do. And those yokels he was attracting! It was just too much. Judas wanted refined people.\n\nThere are those approved in Revelation who keep following the Lamb \"no matter where he goes,\"45 In whose eyes? If it is only in their own—well, _everybody_ does that. Everybody follows the Lamb per their own standards. The whole phrase becomes silly and should be replaced with: \"each one did what was right in his own eyes,\" because that is what it will inevitably default to. In the absence of human authority, if the counsel or method seems not attractive, you simply interpret it away. No harm done.\n\nThe very basis of the Governing Body's authority is challenged by some today with respect to their claims to represent Christ. Follow just _Christ_ , the critics say, not some human agency. Practically speaking, just how does a faith wishing to stay relevant do that? It is possible to set the bar so low that anything can be claimed as a victory. Thus, one churchman acknowledged that his faith had made a great impact upon _him_ but not the world. Was it a failure on that account? Not at all. Who is to say the world wouldn't have been worse without it? It is rather like the ne'er-do-well parent responding to the complaints of his jailbird kids. Without his parenting that they have found fault with, why—maybe they would be doing life in prison and not just ten years.\n\nContemporary grumbling over humans brings to mind those who groused at the marked difference in both direction and style from Charles T. Russell to Joseph Rutherford to Nathan Knorr, successive Watchtower presidents leading up to establishment of the present arrangement of a Governing Body. They are fixated on men. If they are going to harp on this, they ought to follow through. Tell them to ignore Paul and focus only on what Jesus said. The good news enjoyed tremendous growth under Paul? Big deal. It has done the same under the direction of the Governing Body today, yet that makes no difference to their critics.\n\nIf we step outside the world of Bible-believing people, we find this is exactly how those of critical thought regard Paul. They essentially treat him as a person who founded a separate religion, reinterpreting the words and teachings of Jesus, linking them to Old Testament events that Jesus himself never specifically linked them to. It cannot be that God works through a group of men today? Don't be so half-hearted. Extend the logic to Jesus and Paul. Take the Bible and rip out every book after John.\n\nRemarks from the disgruntled often assume an 'us versus them' mentality: the boss class dictating to the worker class. The Governing Body doesn't look at it that way. When they say: \"Some brothers in the past thought such-and-such,\" they mean themselves as much as any in the ranks. They do not draw a distinction between themselves and the rest of the brotherhood. Instead, it is the way of Matthew 23:8-10 with them: \"But you, do not you be called Rabbi, for one is your Teacher, and all of you are brothers... Neither be called leaders, for your Leader is one, the Christ.\" Members of the Governing Body do not view themselves as leaders, but as fellow brothers who are taking the lead. There is a difference. The leader is Christ.\n\nWhile pursuing the pathway to become a Witness, nothing about the way God uses a human agency to direct his people is ever hidden. It is manifest from the start. It seems disingenuous to grouse about being misled, should anyone do it. Instead, some simply reassess matters over time. They decide the cost is too high, and the reason for paying it too nebulous or too far off. They depart because they were \"not of our sort.\" They decide that they like this present world after all, or at least do not dislike it enough to keep such distance.46\n\nThe exception already touched upon would be those raised in the faith. They never did see both sides. Or, rather, to the extent most of them did, it was both sides presented through the eyes of the theocratic organization, which hardly represents the other side as that side would represent itself. How to solve this? I don't know. It may already be solved to the extent it can be. The reason Obi-wan does not want Luke to go over into the dark side is that he really thinks it is the dark side. He is not trying to control Luke. He is not trying to deprive him of anything. He is looking out for him. He truly believes the dark side is bad, and he doesn't say: \"Why don't you go over there and roam around for a while so that you can make an informed choice?\"\n\nSo it is with the Witnesses' Governing Body. Charges that they try to control people are so juvenile, so adolescent, that they are hard to countenance. How could anybody think that way? No. They truly believe the theocratic side is good and the other side is, well—the dark side. Though that viewpoint is objectionable to some, it is exactly how the Bible presents matters. I don't know how you get around it, or if you even want to, though it does result in the above dilemma.\n\nFurthermore, if the Governing Body ever 'misrepresents' the non-Witness world, it is not because they are sinister. It is because they do not know it themselves. They take their own counsel, which is that of the Bible, and they do not go there. They are lowly people who have poured themselves out and who now find themselves in places that are high for them. They are places not just 'high for them'—they are actually high. They do not puff themselves up over it. They trust in God and, like the kings of old were directed to do, and they actually read the scriptures daily. They keep away from what is 'falsely called knowledge' and from the 'empty philosophies that violate what is holy' that 'toss people about as though on the waves of the sea.' They have lived their own lives with the lesson of Haggai ever foremost: clean will be contaminated by unclean, not the reverse, and so they do not go there. Because they do not go there, they know it only through the lens of Scripture.47\n\nIf the Bible says, in effect, that the 'world will chew you up and spit you out,' they assume that it does. If they find someone who says it in exactly those words, they eat it right up and broadcast it. And who is to say the words are untrue? Some get chewed up and spit out so promptly and decisively that no one would ever deny it, but with others? Who is to say the scriptures are wrong on that point? It may just take a longer time to get chewed up and spit out. Many senior citizens have encountered calamity, even contrived calamity, and have seen everything they had worked for drained away. Even the powerful are not immune as their strength and faculties wane.\n\nThe true freedom Christians have is the hope of everlasting life on earth, which no government or religionist can take away. They can make your life most uncomfortable but generally the tribulation is 'momentary and light.' Even in the worst-case scenario that it is not, it ends with one's death, for they cannot touch one's 'soul,' the true life.48 In contrast, what do the presumably Russian guards portrayed at the Regional Convention video have? If they are atheist guards they have three or four decades, after which is a permanent death that may not be dignified. Even the head officer threatening Sergei will fare no better.\n\nIt is a challenge piloting Christianity in an increasingly irreligious world in which the very notion of ruling on morality is spun as a negative, as a scheme to manipulate people. The world pushes hard for the viewpoint that, if you must have religion, make it bland and let it not interfere with the \"serious\" things of life.\n\nI do not know any Governing Body members, past or present, but I did once receive a personal letter from one. By odd coincidence, a personal friend has the same first and last name as one of that group. He entered Bethel around 1980 and there married. My wife and I sent him a card on his first wedding anniversary, and it was the Governing Body member who replied. He thanked us for our kind wishes, he related how he and his wife had been traveling, how they'd been to Australia for the District Convention, and then Africa—boy, he sure gets around for being just a year at Bethel, we thought. Funny that the wives' names didn't match. Ah, well—maybe someone has a nickname. How could we have known? Here was a Governing Body member taking time to respond to a card, writing a few chatty paragraphs to people he did not know, for fear he might hurt someone's feelings. That says it all. These are not pretentious people.\n\nChapter 10 endnotes\n\nReturn to Table of Contents\n\n# Chapter 11 – Apostasy\n\nAnton Chivchalov has described himself as an \"observer of the persecution of Jehovah's Witnesses in Russia.\" As he covered trial, appeal, and events thereafter with a steady stream of tweets, he made many observations. Such as:\n\n\" _The active participation of apostates in the trial against Jehovah's Witnesses in the Russian Supreme Court is a vivid example of their unprincipled and indiscriminate cooperation with anyone, if only against us. And I'm not talking here about how incompetent and preposterous this participation was (none could testify anything about extremism). Only emotions, zero facts..._\n\n\" _But this activity is also utterly immoral, since they want to send innocent people to jail. They are not sincerely misled, like many others. No, apostates are well aware that Jehovah's Witnesses neither killed nor rob anyone, yet they are happy to prosecute us on criminal charges. Of course, they still consider themselves good Christians. And it is completely beyond my understanding that with all this hatred towards us they are offended that we don't want to communicate with them!\"_ 1\n\nThis is why I was not nice to them on an Internet thread that was taken down for that reason. This is why I did not patiently answer their arguments, as I seem to have been expected to do. This is why, should they intrude upon my posts, I do not address their arguments; I address their motives. Let them howl about ad hominem attacks—there are times when ad hominem is clearly the way to go. After all, the best safeguard against ad hominem attacks is to cultivate an 'adhominem' that does not draw them like a magnet.\n\nWhen I stumbled across three of them beating up on Job, I tried to be like Elihu and take them out. For my trouble, I found myself headlining a thread entitled 'Harley vs the Apostates.' I complained that I didn't want the job. I don't go out of my way to pick fights with these characters. My protests fell upon deaf ears. So I gradually warmed to the idea and went after them with such ferocity that the same administrator who put me on the thread yanked me off it and slapped me with an 'A' for abuse. I wore my 'A' as though an anti-typical Hester Prynne. In time, it became a plus for me, as it had for her.\n\nThere were some unusual characters on that thread, and some who were downright nasty. One person liked to dollar-sign the 'S' in Jehovah's Witnesses, and he accompanied all remarks with taunting graphics. Okay—got it. He thinks Witnesses should be like John the Baptist, living off honey and locusts. In time, whenever I referred to him, I dollar-signed every 'S' within a two-millimeter radius. When I told him that he should be nice to me because otherwise I might not stay, since I had an entire Assembly Hall full of people who liked me, he dismissed them all as 'backstabbers.' I conceded that they were, and even admitted that it was a great nuisance, but I had learned over time to whirl about and take them out like Chuck Norris with a kick to the head.\n\nI could design graphics, too, if I allowed myself. For example, I could draw the ten who jumped from the airplane during a choppy flight. Eight are far below, with chutes open, and when they land they will resume their prior life. One or two of them may even reassess and buy a ticket to re-board at the next airport. But two have grabbed hold of a wing, and, with tangled hair, sleet, fumes and dead birds slapping them in the face, they are desperately trying to unfurl a banner for the remaining passengers, who are largely too preoccupied to notice: \"Jump like us, before it's too late!\" Any mental health professional will say that the inability to move on in life is a source of much distress.\n\nNobody has better apostates than Jehovah's Witnesses. Ours are the best. There is no contest. Ours are the most prolific. Ours are the most vitriolic. It is almost as though I am proud of them. Do the mainstream religions produce quality apostates? You're joking! Just read the comments after a typical church post: \"How is the Right Reverend O'Malahan doing?\" one might say. \"I went to school with him back in the day. A fine fellow! Give him my best, won't you?\" Only Jehovah's Witnesses generate insurmountable froth. Scientologists and Mormons may merit an honorable mention, but nothing equates, for sheer physical and audible muscle, anti-Witness tirades.\n\nIt's ridiculous. A journalist will write something about the faith, and the comment section is deluged with scores, even hundreds, of harangues to the effect that Witnesses are a cult—though that has nothing whatsoever to do with the article. Sometimes the journalist feels obliged to post a disclaimer: 'Look, I'm not a Witness. I don't agree with Witnesses. I don't even like Witnesses. I'm just trying to do a story. Is that too much to ask?' Apparently, it is. Some take to disabling their comment sections. As far as I am concerned, it all validates the faith. Any faith too milquetoast to produce grade-A apostates is too milquetoast to be given the time of day.\n\nOne cannot read the New Testament without being struck by the continuous battle against apostates. Contending with them is a pervasive theme of the first-century Christian congregation writings. If it happened then, it should happen now. Any successor worth its salt will also have contentious apostates. And if you know why it happened then, you will know why it happens today.\n\n\"For the mystery of lawlessness is already at work,\" writes Paul. It is indeed a mystery, for the sheer viciousness of apostates exceeds anything one might reasonably anticipate. ISIS barely generates more opposition. Does anyone think that once the wheat is separated from the weeds, the dandelions do not appear again? Ask any homeowner. No matter. Jehovah's Witnesses are nothing if not adaptable to circumstances. \"A large door leading to activity has opened,\" says another verse, \"but there are many opposers.\" There are indeed. There will continue to be. The harvest is great, but the weeds are great, too. Eventually, it will all turn against us in this world—Christians know that. Jesus did not say, \"if they persecuted me, they will love you.\" He said the opposite.2\n\n\"For the mystery of lawlessness is already at work,\" to reiterate Paul. \"But the one who restrains is to do so only for the present, until he is removed from the scene.\" This would be a reference to the apostles, most of them eye-witnesses to Christ. The instant they are removed—the instant human leadership falls upon those who were not eye-witnesses to Christ, it is pedal-to-the-metal for the now-unrestrained apostates. It is no more complex than the unruly pupils creating havoc for the substitute teacher.\n\nIt is the first century playing out all over again. There is not a New Testament writer who does not deal with it. The apostate issue was fueled by the same thing then as it is today—a disrespect or outright rejection of authority from those who refuse to take instruction or suffer discipline. They bristle at any attempt to 'impose morality.'3 They take umbrage at any who would direct.\n\nIt is no good stipulating that you will deal only with the one on top, in this case God. He will counter that he has underlings who can handle your complaints; surely it should be enough that he will listen to you at any time night or day. If you point out that the underlings mess things up, he will observe that you are no great shakes yourself. He will direct your attention to the verse: \"Anyone claiming to love God who does not love his brother, he is a liar.\" Surely if you love them, you can cooperate with them, he will say, 'even if they do rub you the wrong way now and then. Do you have any idea what you do to me? Didn't my Son throw in a parable about the forgiven slave who would not forgive his fellow slaves?'4\n\nIt is most pronounced at the moment of passing the torch. It is the successor whose authority is challenged. Jesus couldn't even pass the torch to the generation beyond his eye-witnesses. At least he made it that far. Most often even the eye-witnesses are shouted down. As always, it is: 'When the cat's away the mice will play' dressed up in high-sounding language about rights so as to appeal to those of critical thought who want to do what they want to do.\n\nChristianity is among the greatest discussion themes of all time. Battling apostates is consequently among the greatest sub-themes of all time. Even Jesus warned of the imposters who would sneak into the sheepfold—not enter straightforwardly through the gate—so as to plunder the sheep. Two entire chapters of the Bible are devoted to apostasy. The New Testament is peppered with references to them. Jude would be unknown except for them. He was just minding his own business, starting a bland letter \"about our common salvation\" which probably would have wound up in the dustbin of Christian history, but then circumstances forced a changed of course: \"I now feel a need to write to encourage you to contend for the faith that was once for all handed down to the holy ones.\" With that, he penned a short letter that became part of the Bible canon.5\n\nThe first Bible chapter devoted solely to apostasy is found in Peter's second letter: _\"There were also false prophets among the people, just as there will be false teachers among you, who will introduce destructive heresies and even deny the Master who ransomed them,_ [by refusing to do what he says] _... Many will follow their licentious ways, and because of them the way of truth will be reviled. In their greed they will exploit you with fabrications...\"_\n\nThey _\"show contempt for lordship. Bold and arrogant, they are not afraid to revile glorious beings, whereas angels, despite their superior strength and power, do not bring a like judgment against them from the Lord. But these people, like irrational animals born by nature for capture and destruction, revile things that they do not understand...Thinking daytime revelry a delight, they are stains and defilements as they revel in their deceits while carousing with you. Their eyes are full of adultery and insatiable for sin. They seduce unstable people, and their hearts are trained in greed. Accursed children! Abandoning the straight road, they have gone astray..._\n\n\" _These people are waterless springs and mists driven by a gale; for them the gloom of darkness has been reserved. For, talking empty bombast, they seduce with licentious desires of the flesh those who have barely escaped from people who live in error. They promise them freedom, though they themselves are slaves of corruption, for a person is a slave of whatever overcomes him. For if they, having escaped the defilements of the world through the knowledge of [our] Lord and savior Jesus Christ, again become entangled and overcome by them, their last condition is worse than their first. For it would have been better for them not to have known the way of righteousness than after knowing it to turn back from the holy commandment handed down to them. What is expressed in the true proverb has happened to them, 'The dog returns to its own vomit,' and 'A bathed sow returns to wallowing in the mire.'\"_ 6\n\nPlainly there was authority in the first-century congregation and it was this authority that apostates sought to undermine, if not destroy. They \"revel in their deceits while carousing with you?\" They have \"eyes full of adultery?\" They \"are insatiable for sin?\" How does that become a problem unless there is someone who would tell them they cannot carry on that way? Otherwise, they can just do whatever they like and tell those who disapprove to mind their own business. They want to especially \"follow the flesh with its depraved desire and show contempt for lordship.\" The first could be easily done were it not for the authoritarian manner of the second. From therein arises the contempt.\n\n\"They promise them freedom, though they themselves are slaves of corruption?\" It is spot-on for today. Do apostates truly have freedom to offer? Witnesses sacrifice some petty freedoms for the sake of the large ones; no Witness would ever say otherwise. But cast aside obedience to God and one simply switches masters. By the time they pay their new master his dues, God's congregation and the Governing Body will look like doddering indulgent grandparents in comparison. If one loses faith in God's promises, those petty freedoms suddenly become the mainstay of life, and the sacrifices required to attain the large freedoms seem for naught. It is no more complicated than that.\n\nThe second Bible chapter devoted solely to apostasy is the letter of Jude, mentioned previously. It is only a single chapter in length: _\"For there have been some intruders, who long ago were designated for this condemnation, godless persons, who pervert the grace of our God into licentiousness and who deny our only Master and Lord, Jesus Christ.\"_\n\nThey denied him, for the most part, by simply ignoring anything inconvenient that he said—a course that becomes easy to take now that he and his eyewitnesses are dead, and they could start interpreting his teachings any way they liked. It is always easier once the author is dead. It recalls a scene from the book _Up the Down Staircase_ wherein a high school student is given a failing grade for wrongly interpreting a poem. He protests, but the grade stands. It stands even when he brings the poet to class and the poet says: 'Yes, that's exactly what I meant.' The only victory the student attains is to trigger a change in school policy—only dead poets are to be assigned from that time on.\n\nJude hits on similar themes as does Peter: Remember that God brought his people out of Egypt but then destroyed those rebelling. And the angels who didn't keep their place but came down to earth for carrying on with the gorgeous women—how did it turn out with them? And what about when Michael got into a squabble with the Devil over something and yet still refrained from denunciations? Yet the apostates today denounce as readily as they breathe. They are rocks beneath the water, ready to rip the bottom out of the boat. They are waterless clouds—what a letdown is in store when they show up on a parched day! Fruitless trees in late autumn—what good are they? Stars with no set course—just try plotting your journey by them! But they do know what they want, and they do know how they feel about ones who would restrain them.\n\nAlmost always, the emphasis is on less service to God, less strictness in following his ways, never more. Frequently it is framed a plea for more love and tolerance. Discipline, particularly firm discipline, they interpret as a lack of love, even though the Word states exactly the opposite: \"My son, do not disdain the discipline of the Lord or lose heart when reproved by him; for whom the Lord loves, he disciplines; he scourges every son he acknowledges.\"7\n\nWith those that oppose it is usually over expressed concern for individual rights. Usually congregational restrictions on individual rights are portrayed as evil. 'Yielding to the greater good' becomes a phrase triggering alarm, for haven't tyrants embarked upon their tyranny utilizing just those words? Yet it is exactly what the Bible advises Christians to do. Let new students see the drama unfold. It is Christianity 304 – 101 having to do with mastering the basics, and 201 having to do with applying them. Nowhere will one discover Jesus counseling the disciples: \"Don't take any flak from anyone.\" Instead it will be: \"Should anyone press you into service for one mile, go with him for two miles.\"8 Apostasy begins whenever one chooses the first dictum over the second.\n\nMany apostates are persons who came up on the losing end of discipline and are not happy about it. They eagerly spread the report that true Christianity breaks up families, ignoring Jesus' words that that is exactly what can happen with a serious faith. It takes the European Court of Human Rights to straighten them out, and Alexander Dvorkin thereafter regards that body as a \"so-called\" human rights organization, and sides with those of his countrymen who would ignore it.\n\nIt is hard not to view them as the children squabbling in the back seat of the car, resentful of everything, looking up only occasionally to cry: 'Are we there yet?' Little did I realize in my boyhood that when my father thundered from up front, it was with the wisdom of the ages: \"If you kids don't stop crying back there, I'll give you something to cry about!\"\n\nIt is chess grandmasters crying about the rules of the game. It is football players crying because the referee has proved human. It is 'freedom fighters' preoccupied with the mundane, and thus overlooking the freedoms that truly amount to something. It is patients bickering over health care and forgetting about health. If you do not piddle away all your time on the trivial, you may hope to attain to the monumental. How does living forever on a paradise earth sound? Does anyone think it is God's purpose to live a few erratic decades and die on an earth carved up into eternally bickering sovereign powers? We can aspire to nothing greater than that?\n\nIt was a universal concern of the first century—the struggle with apostates. It is a lesson for today. If you would be in contention as 'successors to original Christianity,' you must have high-caliber apostates. Luke-warm ones will not do. You must have your hands full battling these characters if you are to fulfill the first-century congregation pattern. Revisit the themes of the first century and see them play out in the modern day, particularly the tendency to 'despise authority.' Christian moral standards are high, and they can be spun as absurdly high in a permissive world—in fact, not merely _high_ , but _wrong_ : judgmental and far too narrow.\n\nAll denominations have governing arrangements, but these are generally concerned with administrative matters. Whatever recommendations they have for the faithful are just that: recommendations. There is little stigma to disregarding them. Plainly, religions in which the year text is 'Anything Goes' are not going to have apostate issues. When you don't suffer any censure for doing whatever, you don't complain. Others will suffer from your avant-garde course, but their complaints are less tangible and can be ignored.\n\nA world aware of the early Christian record of persecution somehow attributes it to a new idea that took some getting used to, and once this was done—why, the world embraced Christianity as one more item on its menu of offerings. It is an interpretation most naïve. Only when Christianity changed to fit the dominant world culture did it become acceptable, even a fine career path to pursue. Those who continue to observe it as its founder did continue to experience the rejection he did. \"In fact, all who want to live religiously in Christ Jesus will be persecuted,\" says Paul.9\n\nThe apostates of the first century eventually won the day. Christianity did spread through a gradually won-over world, but it was the apostatized version that prevailed. The world remained the world and 'Christianity' adapted so as to fit in. It was only by shedding what was bedrock and incorporating then-popular ideas that the faith was accepted into the mainstream. Revelation, the final Bible book, likens religion to a prostitute, forsaking loyalty to a Husband so as to snuggle up close with \"the kings of the earth,\" relishing the riches and power these ones bestow.10\n\nThe development is foretold in Jesus' parable of the wheat and the weeds. \"The kingdom of heaven may be likened to a man who sowed good seed in his field. While everyone was asleep his enemy came and sowed weeds all through the wheat, and then went off. When the crop grew and bore fruit, the weeds appeared as well. The slaves of the householder came to him and said, 'Master, did you not sow good seed in your field? Where have the weeds come from?' He answered, 'An enemy has done this.' His slaves said to him, 'Do you want us to go and pull them up?' He replied, 'No, if you pull up the weeds you might uproot the wheat along with them. Let them grow together until harvest; then at harvest time I will say to the harvesters, 'First collect the weeds and tie them in bundles for burning; but gather the wheat into my barn.'\"11\n\nThe apostates won back then. Their version became the dominant model of Christianity, but it is not to be that way in 'the harvest.' The Word is restored and presently the weeds appear once more, anticipating a repeat. This time, however, the scene has changed, and they are to lose. Collect them up and tie them in bundles for burning.\n\nA modern Witness might draw attention to the passage of 2 Timothy 4: \"For the time will come when people will not tolerate sound doctrine but, following their own desires and insatiable curiosity, will accumulate teachers and will stop listening to the truth and will be diverted to myths.\" Since \"the time will come\" and the passage was written long ago, might not the accumulated teachers, with their myths, have appeared long ago? If he does not use the passage from 2 Timothy 4, he may use one from 1 Timothy 4. \"Now the Spirit explicitly says that in the last times some will turn away from the faith by paying attention to deceitful spirits and demonic instructions through the hypocrisy of liars with branded consciences. They forbid marriage and require abstinence from foods that God created to be received with thanksgiving by those who believe and know the truth.\" Either passage works to convey the idea that apostasy happened long ago. A movement to restore matters was launched as men were roving about in the late 1800s, but there are now those who would countermand them.\n\nOf the most incalcitrant of them operating in the present day, the verse does not give reason for optimism: \"For it is impossible in the case of those who have once been enlightened and tasted the heavenly gift and shared in the holy Spirit and tasted the good word of God and the powers of the age to come, and then have fallen away, to bring them to repentance again, since they are recrucifying the Son of God for themselves and holding him up to contempt.\" Of course! They \"re-crucify\" the Lord. They have not fallen to discouragement or to mere inattention. They have \"once been enlightened\" with regard to Christ, but they have repudiated it. They repudiate what he stands for, even though some may claim to follow him still. Good luck trying to turn them around yet again. They will now be placated only by persuading others of their reestablished point of view.\n\nThey are actors playing a role written long ago. Sometimes in Hollywood, actors who have long played the villain sign on to play the hero. One cannot look into the heart; it is somewhere no human can go. Did those ones really go apostate, particularly those who were young? Or did they just become overwhelmed in the raging torrent, like the Canadian ducks of the previous chapter? The fat lady has not yet sung. One cannot really know who fits the words of Paul and who does not. Sometimes, however, you feel you can get pretty close, and expectations that 'apostates' will reassess have seldom panned out thus far.12\n\nCurrent Watchtower counsel regarding apostates is to avoid them—don't argue with them in public and don't engage with them online. Though apostates invariably represent this as the Witness organization's attempt to blindfold its own people, scripturally it is so sound that it could hardly do otherwise. If apostates are not the \"ones who went out from us because they were not of our sort,\" who are? If they are not the \"blind guides\" who Jesus instructs to \"leave them be,\" who are? Are they not like the men of the Gentiles, who after rejecting correction of the congregation, members are to have nothing to do with? Do they not fit the description of ones not to even take a meal with or say a greeting to, lest one be a sharer of their sins?13 Present counsel could not be different. Don't go there just to brawl.\n\nSigh—sometimes this writer, despite himself, savors a good brawl. He doesn't blow theocratic counsel away as though it were nothing; he is chastened by it and would be far worse without it. He persuades himself that he, at his most dastardly, is no worse than the Witness who nods appreciatively at the reminder that God hate violence before tuning in the football game where pugilists ram each other like big dumb animals with antlers on the nature shows. He even pretends to himself that he is within the spirit of the counsel, if not the letter, for he is not addressing the apostates, trying to convince them. He knows that is impossible. He is addressing the audience behind them and lending support to less experienced Witnesses who follows the first law of human nature and venture online because they have been advised they should not. Some of them become like kids playing in the street, oblivious to the dangers of apostates swerving wildly to take out as many as possible. But sometimes you can pull a wheel off their chariot. Sometimes you can jam a stick into their spokes, sending them hurtling head over handlebars. I like to do that sometimes.\n\nA writer can even relish online the challenge of framing things before people who he knows are going to savage it and he can take comfort in the words of Frank Sinatra: \"If I can make it here, I'll make it anywhere.\" You remind yourself that a writer needs more than a muse—he needs a villain, and there are villains innumerable online. You even imagine it a fine test of scriptural application; can you truly keep yourself 'restrained under evil?' Sometimes you find that you cannot and then it is back to Bible 101 for you!\n\nOne might almost call it Bible 304, an elective course, where the theme scripture text is Jesus' rebuke to his clerical enemies: \"Why do you put me to the test, hypocrites?\" He wasn't gentle with them. He knew their motive. Like snakes, they saddled up to him with their question: \"Teacher, we know that you are a truthful man and that you teach the way of God in accordance with the truth. And you are not concerned with anyone's opinion, for you do not regard a person's status. Tell us, then, what is your opinion: Is it lawful to pay the census tax to Caesar or not?\"14\n\nThey didn't give a hoot in hell about taxes. But they did know what would make it hot for Jesus. People didn't like taxes, they rarely do, and the tax collectors back then enjoyed much latitude in shaking people down. But speak against them and you had the Romans to worry about.\n\n\"Why are you testing me, you hypocrites?\" Jesus shot right back to them. \"Show me the coin that pays the census tax.\" Then they handed him the Roman coin. He said to them, \"Whose image is this and whose inscription?\" They replied, \"Caesar's.\" At that he said to them, \"Then repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God.\" A bunch of frauds they were, and Jesus played not too nice with them. Sometimes that must be done with modern-day frauds as they pose as champions of this cause or that so as to make trouble for a people they have come to despise. It worked with Jesus' enemies, for we read: \"When they heard this they were amazed, and leaving him, they went away.\" Of course, they later returned with more potent evil intent.15\n\nWhat does one learn in Bible 304? Ones sees advanced Bible themes as love for God, love for the brotherhood and Christian loyalty play out right under ones' nose. The curriculum is largely observing how some reevaluate their dedication after a time—and sometimes back out of it, and why. Some themes become most meaningful when you see live examples of them. Like the Soviet officials aghast that Witnesses thrived under the harshest imposed conditions, Witnesses today wonder at the mystery of their own apostates.\n\nUltimately, it is not complex and there is little mystery. The many reasons people reevaluate generally collapse into one: \"Demas, enamored of the present world, deserted me.\" There is no reason Demas cannot do this if he likes. Just don't spin it otherwise. John wrote that many had left because \"they were not of our sort.\" One may think their actions unwise, but they are not hypocritical if explained in those words. One should call a spade a spade.16\n\nWith the foes identified at Bible 304, individual rights invariably trump self-sacrifice. They insist upon extracting the straw from their brother's eye, oblivious to the log in their own. Some are upset that the cloud left the tabernacle just after they had finished unpacking. Some anticipated that it was about to leave and then muttered when it did not. Some tirelessly devote 90% of their time to squabble over 10% of the Scripture total. Let them squabble themselves into oblivion with their critical thinking. Jesus bypasses it all and speaks straight to the heart. One can read Obadiah, the shortest Hebrew Bible book of all, telling of God's nation under attack, and how their estranged Edomite relatives ardently joined in the attack, turning their brothers over to those who would kill them. Read how God felt about that.17\n\nOne finds those who fell even seven times and lost all desire to get up. The reward is further off than they once thought. The price to pay now seems higher than anticipated. Some emerged on the losing end of the villainous deeds of Revelation 2 and 3, and one can empathize to an extent, for who likes to be wronged? Alas, sooner or later in life, circumstances or individuals will do things that will chafe; one must muster up gumption and get up. Sometimes forgiveness is required in order to get on with life. In the end, the card that must be played is that of the psalmist: \"Lovers of your law have much peace; for them there is no stumbling block.\"18 One must love God's law.\n\nOne will encounter countless persons who spill dirt on the Witness organization. Often it is true dirt, or it is based upon something true. \"No human is able to exercise perfect self-control,\" says a recent Watchtower article. It is the same with other qualities. There will always be dirt. Opposers misrepresent, exaggerate and always impute wrong motive. Eventually, John Q Publisher comes across it, and because he has been exposed to not a hint of it, he is floored—and in some cases, he swallows it along with the negative spin added, to his spiritual detriment. Maybe exposure to a little bit of the illness, as with a vaccine by a physician, better prepares him should he later encounter it in the wild. All he will learn is that Witness headship involves people who are imperfect, and that he knew beforehand.\n\nOne cannot win online, really. \"We destroy arguments and every pretension raising itself against the knowledge of God,\" says Paul. But once you think you have done that and the villain keeps pumping them anyway, the irresistible temptation is to skirt past the caution tape and pound him into oblivion with a baseball bat of rhetoric. It is not for Christians to do. It must be God who is the judge. \"A slave of the Lord should not quarrel, but should be gentle with everyone,\" says Paul again, notwithstanding the appeal of slapping the malcontents.20\n\nBible 304 is an unadvised elective, because you cannot blow off as nothing the verses that say the unclean will rub off on the clean, and not the reverse. \"Leave them be,\" Jesus says, not: \"Let's rumble!\" To one who has chosen a course involving self-sacrifice, it is not necessarily a fine thing to spend time with those who savor unrestraint. It is the same as how one determined to diet is undermined by others of the household stuffing the refrigerator with ice cream and pie. The curriculum of 304 contains material that is not readily gleaned anywhere else, but in a dose so powerful it can knock one right out of the campus. Witnesses generally stay away from them.21\n\nAnyone who ever attended Sunday School or has seen a TV Easter Sunday movie knows that Moses led the Israelites out of Egypt and through the Red Sea, which parted for him. They had known nothing but harsh slavery in Egypt. Thereafter, they wandered 40 years in the wilderness before entering the promised land. What is not generally known is that, after just a few months out of Egypt, the surly Israelite refugees wanted to go back, slavery or no slavery. They had misunderstood. They had assumed the promised land would come immediately. They hadn't reckoned upon the uncertainty and trials they would face in the wilderness that would test their faith in God's promise. The same Moses who had been a deliverer now became an oppressor in the eyes of many—notwithstanding that Scripture calls him the most humble man ever to have lived—he is not the Moses of movie lore who pops Pharaoh in the nose and gets the girl.24\n\nChallenges to his authority were vehement: \"Holding an assembly against Moses and Aaron, they said, \"You go too far! The whole community, all of them, are holy; the LORD is in their midst. Why then should you set yourselves over the LORD's assembly?\" we read in Numbers. \"Are you not satisfied that you have brought us here from a land flowing with milk and honey to have us perish in the wilderness, that now you must also lord it over us? Far from bringing us to a land flowing with milk and honey, or giving us fields and vineyards for our inheritance, will you gouge out our eyes?\"25\n\nOne thing stands out loud and clear in all Bible references: Trash Moses and God counts it as done to him. He has no patience with those who would claim best-buddy status with him yet would rebel against whoever he places at the helm. Later, Jesus pushed back at religious leaders of his day who decried the rebelliousness of the past, declaring they would _never_ have been like that themselves. 'You would have been worse,' Jesus tells them.26 It is little different with those who would rebel against theocratic headship today and have mostly separated themselves to do just that. To satisfy these ones, must one wait for Governing Body members to part the oceans so that they may walk wherever they have to go? Moses _did_ part the Red Sea and it won him no lasting respect.\n\nThere is hardly a reasonable basis for such contending over human authority today. The scriptural backing is acceptable and the evidence that they have put the Master's coins to good use is irrefutable. The Witness of today does not disregard the theocratic accomplishments plainly taking place today. It is not nothing that a people are gathered internationally who are entirely undivided by nationalism, by racism, by social or educational class. It happens nowhere else on any scale. Witnesses do not take it for granted. They give credit where it is due.\n\nThey will not disregard that there is one organization that will put a modern Bible without charge into the hands of whoever desires it anywhere. They must completely circumvent the world's profit-driven distribution channel to do it, inventing their own channel. And in 900 languages, no less. Given time, the Bible translation itself will approach that figure; it is already sizable, over 200. The smooth functioning and meshing of diverse peoples to attain a common and undiluted spiritual goal: there has been no greater worldwide example of: 'You received free, so give free.' It doesn't just happen. Somehow God has enabled humans to accomplish it.\n\nHuman things are not perfect? Timing has been off? That should be a shocker? Jesus said: \"Keep on the watch, but don't overdo it?\" I don't think so. There is fierce opposition today? As though, with a capable leadership, Jesus words would be wrong and the world would love Christians? As though the worst 'wicked thing they would falsely say' about Jesus' followers is: \"They woke me up Saturday morning when I was sleeping?\" No.\n\nAre they squabbling in Bible 304 over a missed date like 1975? Witnesses got all excited over something that turned out to be a big nothingburger. Give them the short answer: 'Everyone is allowed one failed end-of-world date per lifetime—it is in the rules'—and be done with it. Let them all go away muttering, just like Jesus disposed of his enemies. Their minds were made up long before they materialized to destroy him. The tactic to blow detractors off with a quick answer is the same one Jesus used many times, both to opponents and to those who just wanted a quick fix. Later, with his faithful disciples he would explain matters in more detail.\n\nFocus instead upon how mistakes can happen. How the prophecies of Jesus will turn out is a subject even the angels have tried to look into. Who would order them to get back to work and mind their own business? Focus on how, if they shot themselves in the foot, they nonetheless proved they were 'keeping on the watch,' and not 'sleeping at the switch.' Even crazies that go out on a limb and announce this day or that will end it all must be given credit for that.27\n\nThe eight men of the Governing Body are but eight men. They made themselves known from day one. They are not the eight crime bosses. Let us not be silly. They are doting grandparents in comparison to the authorities of this world. They are not even leaders, really, for they look to Christ as the true leader. They are not masters of anyone's faith. They parallel the authority of Moses and Aaron of Old Testament times, and the apostles and presbyters of New Testament times. Authority is unpopular today. It is distrusted. But the Governing Body ask only that members don't plow through the guardrails or pass on the double line. One must not confuse true tyranny with the traffic cop's direction to stay within the crosswalk.\n\nThere is only one significant advantage from casting off the Christian congregation that this writer can picture: the delirious freedom of going where no one can tell you what to do. You can be free! It is intoxicating, like a drug. All other considerations, material and spiritual, vanish. And yet the notion that you go where no one can tell you what to do is illusory. It may be true in the 'pecking order' sense, where fellow humans offer counsel, but that is the petty sense. By giving up upon the sure resurrection hope, old age and death will surely tell you what to do. By giving up on the 'wisdom from above,' the 'schemes and trickery of men' will surely tell you what to do, for the air has authority. By giving up on the Bible's complete explanation of suffering, the vacuum that remains will surely tell you what to do. Write on their gravestones yet again the words of Frank Sinatra: \"I did it my way\" but take note that the words _are_ on a gravestone.\n\nChristianity 101 is learning the tenets. Christianity 201 is learning to apply them. Christianity 304 is the 50,000-mile checkup. It will be found that some wish to trade in the vehicle at that point. The interior comfort is not sufficient. The engine does not pack quite the punch hoped for. And the transmission—grinding spiritual gears with secular—is hopeless! Time to trade in Jehovah's chariot for that sleek new model with the gorgeous woman cooing over it, even if she is the Revelation woman. It will be no more than some variation of Demas enamored of this world, an ancient play enacted in modern times before a fresh audience. The alternative is to admit that one made a decision that did not work out personally, and people are loath to do that. Better to say that one was brainwashed or taken advantage of.\n\nIt is biblical themes displayed in real time. Sample kingdom rule for a time, then go back to human rule. Are the errors of prominent Christians exposed in Bible 304? It is no more than history repeating itself. The petty squabbling and foibles that characterize the first-century Christian record will also be seen in the modern record. However, the lack of guile and deceit of the first will be seen in the second as well. The trick is not to sanitize the present. It is to de-sanitize the past. There are places in the Bible record where it is stated that God's nation did _worse_ than its neighbors.29 It is well that such days are in the past. Still, one ought not hold one's breath and expect perfection from an organization of humans.\n\nChapter 11 endnotes\n\nReturn to Table of Contents\n\n# PART III\n\n# Chapter 12 – Money\n\nChivchalov reports: \"The vast majority of Russians are sure that [the] Jehovah's Witnesses [religion] is a huge money-pumping machine created for the enrichment of its leaders, and that religion and the Bible are only a disguise. They think that each JW should bring to the 'sect' all their money and re-register their flats, houses, and other property for the benefit of it. We are often called in the media a 'pseudo-religious commercial sect.'\"1 There are some things uniquely Russian in this statement, but similar charges have been made elsewhere by those who don't like Witnesses.\n\nThough sometimes mischaracterized, the donation practices of Jehovah's Witnesses are among the least obtrusive of any faith. At the Kingdom Hall, a person may give 50% of his income towards religious interests or nothing at all. Nobody knows. One must go to a contribution box at the rear of the auditorium to donate. Nobody knows if you do or do not. Nobody approaches you. No collections are taken, and unless someone chooses to use checks (or credit card at large gatherings), giving is completely anonymous. Just now in the U.S. there is introduced a service to donate online for those who prefer. In contrast, a church that I attended as a boy used 'pledge envelopes' through which donations could be tracked. Like charities everywhere, each pledge constituted a floor from which to make greater pledges. I remember my non-believing father telling the pastor who had come calling and had mentioned my homemaker mother's offerings that he should not forget who really was the source of those offerings. The church an older friend attended passed offering plates mounted at the end of poles. They shook to the beat of loud music; drop in some coins and the _chink-chink-chink_ reverberated through the building. It was quiet money they wanted—folding money.\n\nDetractors point (with glee) to Pew charts showing Jehovah's Witnesses are the poorest monetarily of all faiths2 and the 'least educated.'3 The plain intention is that those circumstances be perceived negatively, as in: 'Why should anyone listen to poor and stupid people?' So be it. It was also characteristic of the first-century Christians, the leaders of whom are specifically called 'uneducated and ordinary.'4 It also means that financial support for Jehovah's Witnesses will come from their lower rungs, since they have precious few upper rungs to draw from. Let us explore the topic of finances.\n\nA top-secret letter from the Witness organization to bodies of elders was intercepted and posted online. Actually, it wasn't top secret. It was merely confidential. It contained the instruction: \"This postscript should not be read to the congregation, and this letter should not be posted on the information board.\" Normally I would respect confidentiality and not reproduce the letter, but this is the age of the Internet. Why be like the Russian court that refused to look at video evidence that everyone else saw?\n\nNot everything not made public is the smoking gun. There was a time when writing only to those concerned was not perceived as pulling the wool over the eyes of everyone else. Even as to things that actually _were_ hidden in the first century, Jesus said: \"I have much more to tell you, but you cannot bear it now.\"5 His would be the words of the arch-deceiver today, and opponents (if they dared) would rummage through his files to unearth and publish everything he was withholding.\n\nThe confidential postscript in the public letter read to the congregation tells how, for a certain expense, the congregation secretary \"should use the number of active publishers to calculate the suggested amount to be contributed by the congregation\" and \"the elders may choose to raise or lower the amount based on the economic abilities of the congregation as a whole.\" The snitch is very excited to have posted this and gloats he has uncovered evidence to prove that they are obsessed with money at Witness headquarters.\n\nAny organization uses money. A child knows it. The need for money is no more than common sense. It made common sense to Bible writers and it makes common sense to people who have common sense and who want to eat and do things and pay the bills. Few seek it less obtrusively or stewards it more wisely than the Witness organization. The 'leaked' letter makes the Witness organization look good, not bad, as the poster had hoped. Many outfits would say in effect, 'Repeat as necessary and do not take no for an answer.' Watchtower says: \"The elders may choose to raise or lower the amount based on the economic abilities of the congregation.\" Should their goal come up short, they simply readjust that goal, confident that those of greater means will make up for the deficiency of those of lesser means.\n\nThe confidential note does no more than expand on the consideration already announced publicly. Witnesses are well used to hearing about how that this or that circuit expense will be met if everyone contributes such and such an amount. This is always followed by clarification that it is not thereby suggested that each member pony up that amount, but rather that the congregation in aggregate do so. The private instruction reveals that even that fair policy is not held fast to. Elders know their flock. A poor congregation can lessen their share. A well-off congregation can increase it.\n\nAnother letter was posted online, this one to bodies of elders in some congregations in Nigeria, among those \"lands of limited resources.\" The intent of this leak is to misrepresent the Watchtower organization as working to squeeze the last dime out of poor people. It does nothing of the sort. Ten minutes of an upcoming congregation meeting is to be allotted to discussing contributions. The elders are asked to \"please stress that regularity is very important when contributing.\" 1 Corinthians 16:1-3 forms the basis of discussion (here rendered in the NABRE, though the letter quotes NWT): \"Now in regard to the collection for the holy ones, you also should do as I ordered the churches of Galatia. On the first day of the week each of you should set aside and save whatever one can afford, so that collections will not be going on when I come. And when I arrive, I shall send those whom you have approved with letters of recommendation to take your gracious gift to Jerusalem,\" writes the apostle Paul.\n\nThe letter to congregation elders then observes: \"Paul's suggestion on the manner of contributing can be applied by congregation members today. How? Regularity is the key. If your congregation is to pay the monthly rent and maintenance expenses of your meeting place or Kingdom Hall, it will take 'contributing, not so much the amount, but the regularity of setting something aside each week or month for kingdom interests,' writes the branch office in Peru. Does this idea appeal to you? Even children can be taught to appreciate how regularity in contributing is part of their worship. We all regularly set aside money for school fees, food, rent and other necessities. How much more important it is to do so for kingdom interests. Taking advantage of whichever way is most convenient for us personally, whether electronically or by using the contribution box in our local Kingdom Hall, regularity in contribution will help us to put true worship first in our lives.\"\n\nIs it greedy? Or is it simply a reminder that the light bill must be paid? The one who posts the confidential letter excitedly states: \"Is this the head start to tithing? Seems so.\" It doesn't seem so at all to this writer. Tithing is a system of giving 10% of one's income to a religious entity. Jehovah's Witnesses don't do it. Many churches do. It was a requirement of the Old Testament. There is no basis upon which to carry it over into the New Testament, but many faiths, with an apparent eye on the cash flow, do so anyway. Ten percent is an easily manageable sum to persons well-off financially. To those who are poor it is a crushing load to bear, and Christ would not have his followers bear it. Note that contributions in the letter are likened to money for school fees, food, rent, and other necessities, not to a percentage of income.\n\nWhoever is the opponent leaking the letter, he is either too deceitful, too driven by agenda, or possibly too stupid to notice that the Watchtower's letter to the congregation is _exactly based on the scripture quoted in the same paragraph_. In fact, the two are intertwined in the letter, so that they are seemingly impossible to separate save for someone unusually determined to do so. Moreover, the Watchtower organization shows more consideration than even Paul does to the Corinthian congregation. Paul simply says, in effect: 'I'm coming for the money. Have it ready!' without any detail as to what he will use it for. He \"orders\" it. The Watchtower letter simply says that members can be instructed by Paul's letter—it doesn't demand anything—and it, unlike Paul, supplies the reason for funds needed. They are mundane: rent and maintenance.\n\nThe point already made is reaffirmed: few are less intrusive about money than are Jehovah's Witnesses. Other faiths make it a per person matter, not per congregation, by thrusting an offering plate right under their noses with the whole church looking on. What if our detractor turned his rage upon the Bible itself? Could he not be outraged that Paul tells them to have his money ready for pick-up? And what of Paul's promise to take it to Jerusalem? 'Sure! He's probably going to take it to Ephesus or Corinth for some high living!' they'd say. 'He calls it a 'gift.' It sounds more like extortion! Why does God need our money, anyway? It's ours! Tell him to keep his hands off!' Tell him to do what the [insert anyone you like] religious leader did. At the interfaith conference on how to distribute collected funds, whether for 'us' or for God, one denomination head suggested throwing the money in the air and what came down on one side of a drawn line was theirs, and the other side God's. Another clergyman reversed sides of the line. But the third advised that, upon throwing all money into the air, \"What God wants, he will keep.\"\n\nStill another letter was posted—this place leaks like a sieve! This one was regarding the then-upcoming 2017 Annual Meeting, to be streamed from Warwick NY to 600,000 in various locations. Set up an extra contribution box or two, it said. The one who posted the letter crowed about this positive proof that they thought only of money at Watchtower central.\n\nAgain, I ask forgiveness for a bit of sarcasm, the language of you-know-who. He's the one who makes me do it. It so happened that I was one of the 600,000. The program was eventually placed on the JW.org website, where it can be viewed by anyone. Four hours! That's how long the annual meeting lasted. Four hours of experiences and refinements and the history of building the new Warwick New York headquarters followed by a dedication of those facilities. After that dedication, there were four talks of adjusted views and exhortation that might be dull to some, but they were invigorating to Witnesses.6\n\nAnd then, spoiling it all, (I couldn't believe it—right in the midst of it) _30 seconds of shameless groveling for money!_ They actually (brace yourselves), they actually suggested that those present might donate if they wanted to! and (GASP!) they even specified where it might be done (at the contribution box)! Thirty seconds' mention of money in a four-hour period! Detractors are right! It's all about money with these people!\n\nOh, and that letter spirited out, that the poster was so excited about sharing—the one directing that extra contribution stations should be established? I looked and looked for ours (our meeting was at the Kingdom Hall) and I discovered it! That slot in the counter that used to be designated as the Kingdom Hall fund but was taped over when that fund was combined with the Worldwide Work? It was _uncovered_ again, and _also_ labeled Worldwide Work!\n\nWitnesses will hardly rejoice to see the above three confidential letters displayed online. They will more likely be irritated, for who likes their private correspondence posted for all to peruse? Still, the confidential portions only serve to strengthen general confidence in the organization that serves its members. Bethel wrote local elders to remind local publishers to donate in a timely manner. The letter is posted online in hopes that anyone reading will be outraged at the greedy Watchtower. Instead, I feigned outrage at the greedy Bible writers, for it was clear that everything the Watchtower organization did was based upon scripture. To what degree is one willing to be 'taught by Jehovah?' The Bible includes matters ranging from the strictly spiritual into the purely practical.\n\nIf anyone want to do \"blunt,\" let them consider instructions given to those attending the Jewish festivals. You \"shall not appear before the LORD empty-handed, but each with his own gift, in proportion to the blessing which the LORD, your God, has given to you.\"7 It is as though Jehovah says: \"There! Got it? Don't think you are going to crash the party and freeload! You can at least bring a bag of potato chips.\"\n\nAt a September 2017 congregation meeting, finances were atypically discussed at length. The book _God's Kingdom Rules_ , already quoted, is a history of the modern-day Witness organization. Under consideration at successive congregation meetings, the book had at last gotten around to discussing how the work is financed.8 Of long ago, it stated:\n\n\" _ON ONE occasion, Brother Charles T. Russell was approached by a minister of the Reformed Church who wanted to know how the activities of the Bible Students were managed. \"We never take up a collection,\" explained Brother Russell. \"How do you get the money?\" asked the minister._\n\n\" _If I tell you what is the simplest truth you will hardly be able to believe it,\" replied Russell. \"When people get interested in this way, they find no basket placed under their nose. But they see there are expenses. They say to themselves, 'This hall costs something....How can I get a little money into this thing?'\" The minister looked at Brother Russell in disbelief._\n\n\" _I am telling you the plain truth,\" continued Russell. \"They do ask me this very question, 'How can I get a little money into this cause?' When one gets a blessing and has any means, he wants to use it for the Lord. If he has no means, why should we prod him for it?\"_\n\nYes. Of course. \"If he has no means, why should we prod him for it?\" That is why no collections are ever taken at the Kingdom Hall and a contribution box suffices. What seems more trusting in God: a contribution box in the back where people may or may not give anonymously, or an offering plate passed through the rows so that everyone nearby knows just how much one puts in?\n\nActivities of Jehovah's Witnesses have greatly increased since that time, and the funds necessary have increased accordingly, but their relative place is the same. Bill Underwood compared the disaster relief efforts of several religious organizations in the aftermath of an earthquake that devastated Haiti. Most issued urgent appeals for money. Most provided only sketchy details as to what they would do with those monies. But when it came to the Watchtower:\n\n\"Well, that was refreshing. I went to watchtower.org and searched it for references to money, donations, charity. All I found were Watchtower articles such as 'Is money you master or your servant?' Try as I might, there was no way to donate any money to the organization, nor any request for donations. The only mention of money I found, in connection with Haiti, was in a public news release at jw-media.org entitled \"Witnesses' relief efforts well under way for victims of earthquake in Haiti.\" A single line at the bottom read, 'The Governing Body of Jehovah's Witnesses is caring for these expenses by utilizing funds donated to the Witnesses' worldwide work.'\" Not only was there no plea for money, but it was not possible to donate any at this most obvious appeal-spot.9\n\nFew persons would argue that the Watchtower organization does not use whatever funds are donated fully for the spread of the good news. People know from experience that when those of the Witness organization travel anywhere, they will stay at the lodgings of a fellow Witness. A hotel tab is unheard of. If they dine out at restaurants, they do so at the invitation of friends or at their own expense. When they travel, it via commercial flights. There has never been a financial scandal within the Witness organization, unless you count someone wearing cufflinks or traveling first class, which a Governing Body member will do in order not to arrive at a crucial meeting having just flown around the globe with his knees in his mouth.\n\nOh, and I am told (somewhat to my surprise) by someone who served in Bethel 35 years ago, that it was not expected that Governing Body members lodge at branch facilities or private homes when they traveled, though many preferred to do just that, and when they did not, he (not me) strongly suspected that it was because their wives insisted upon an expense account hotel as a break from an otherwise relentless Bethel dormitory routine. It is so human how can it not be true? But I know nothing of today, though I guess it would be easy enough to find out. No matter. Stay in a hotel if you must. Those of the Governing Body are my servants. They work hard, and I benefit. Have a second cup of coffee on me. Bizarrely, the greatest financial scandal one can point to is that of Judas stealing money from the disciples' fund back in the day.10 It wouldn't happen today. A simple accounting system that would have caught the ancient scoundrel is routine among Witnesses today for congregation and circuit expenses.\n\nAt Regional Conventions one finds a standard message on the printed program, not stated verbally: \"At considerable cost, arrangements have been made to provide adequate seating, a sound system, video equipment, and many other services that make attending the convention enjoyable and help us to draw closer to Jehovah. Your voluntary contributions help to cover these expenses and also support the worldwide work. For your convenience, clearly marked contribution boxes are located throughout the facility. All contributions are very much appreciated. The Governing Body wishes to thank you for your generous support of kingdom interests.\" There are a few electronic terminals about as well to accommodate persons more modern, but nobody could ever say it is in-your-face.\n\nThe line that invariably gets the largest applause at the Regional Convention is: \"Would you like to convey your greetings to Bethel?\" It is obvious why that is so. People look around them and see evidence everywhere that whatever donations they have made are being spent wisely. They see a huge infrastructure that is entirely dedicated to fulfilling the Christian mission of publicizing and representing kingdom interests. They do not feel the need to monitor Bethel for crooks and they are confident that, should crooks appear, the overall upright character of the organization will handle it.\n\nNo financial scandals may have ever occurred, but to ones who would like to halt the Witnesses' work, there is always a giant one just around the corner. Occasionally these ones demand regular public accounting of the overall organization: financial reports such as a public, but not private, business would provide. Congregation members do not demand such. The accounting that matters to them, and that negates any need of their scrutinizing the higher finances, are the Kingdom Halls and Assembly Halls sprouting up like mushrooms in areas that can ill-afford them. The accounting is the disaster relief mobilization—Witnesses are ever among the first upon the scene—that promptly undertakes the project while outsiders are yet mobilizing. In 2013, a newspaper in Arkansas reported on the rapid response of Witness volunteers, and stated: \"The organizational structure of the Jehovah's Witnesses has developed the disaster response volunteer service to a fine art.\"11\n\nThe accounting is the annual convention held hundreds of times around the globe, and televised content utilizing the latest means of video technology. The accounting is the website translated into 900 languages to facilitate a unified teaching of God's Word. Imagine the effort to accomplish such a feat of translation—Google and Apple and Wikipedia combined do not come close!12 The accounting is free Bible distribution, so that the poor family in an impoverished country can have one for free if they need one, rather than be stuck with an archaic and unaffordable 200-year-old translation that they could not understand anyway because nobody of the religious world dreams it possible to circumvent the commercial world's distribution system. Everyone else thinks it is natural that Big Business should control the distribution of God's message to humankind. Only Jehovah's Witnesses have the vision to challenge that model so completely on a worldwide scale and the determination to see that challenge through. The accounting is the lovable childlike cartoon characters Caleb and Sophia who, despite their tender years, still come off as more mature than some of those who would cry foul over this or that aspect of the Witness organization.\n\nIn the overall picture, any video or print material devoted to money represents but a tiny percent of Watchtower's output; one need only peruse the material to convince oneself. A yearly article in the Watchtower magazine covers various means in which one may give: through wills, deeds, conditional loans, and so forth. Even that yearly article is not asking for money. It is simply telling those inclined to donate the most effective ways of doing it.\n\nOne Witness says he has \"found contribution methods to nearly always be a topic of interest to new ones I bring to the meeting. Not only do they expect to contribute something to costs, but they are often puzzled as to why so little is said about money. This sometimes arouses suspicion on their part as to some sort of financial 'whammy' that might be waiting in the wings should they pursue their interest. So having information on contribution methods clearly available and transparent is indeed prudent.\"\n\nHe is \"regularly given funds by members of the public as a contribution to our work which, even if they do not belong to our movement, they see as genuine and above board. Most people I witness to quickly see that with Jehovah's Witnesses, they get much value for actually no money at all. I am happy to contribute to an organization that seeks to genuinely preach 'the good news of the kingdom,' and most of those who stick around are of the same mind.\"\n\nThis writer is reminded of a local man, an entrepreneur and scientist, who attended meetings for some time, but never did progress to the point of baptism. Still, he expressed a desire to leave substantial funds to the Watchtower Society upon his death. \"I don't agree with everything you say,\" he said, \"but I do know that none of my money will be wasted.\" It didn't happen. Members of his family raised powerful objection and he reconsidered.\n\nI learned of this long after the fact. His name had first come to my attention when I was a schoolboy. He had purchased the beach that the city had sold by mistake. In the 1960s, Durand Beach along Lake Ontario became so polluted that it was closed to public swimming. In time, it was forgotten about, and this curmudgeonly fellow purchased it at public auction. He had planned a system of filters to screen off a portion of it for a private club. Red-faced city fathers discovered their mistake only upon reading the newspapers and leaned upon him to get 'their' beach back. As an adolescent savors evidence that the grownups are inept, just like Tom Sawyer savored his teacher losing his toupee, I savored this faux pas and did not forget the man's name.\n\nA dozen years after I became a Witness, a letter signed by him appeared in the newspaper praising Witness youths visiting his door as unfailingly polite and well spoken. I had long forgotten about him, but with this letter my childhood memory was revived. Years after that, I gave the public talk at another Kingdom Hall and there he was in the audience! He was studying the Bible with a congregation member. My talk was on a science theme, and since he was a scientist, I asked him afterwards whether it was any good. He said it was not. It can be a fearsome thing when a Witness gets his hands on a public talk outline dealing with science, because few of them specialize. I thought I had brought myself up to speed. Silly me.\n\nFor decades, Witnesses have heard about their surpluses benefiting other lands with deficits. They know it is hopelessly out of the reach of many congregations in poor countries to afford their own Kingdom Hall, and they are thrilled to know that their funds are spent to that end. Only with organization can such equalization take place \"to test the genuineness of your love by your concern for others.\"13 Following that biblical statement is a reminder of how the Lord Jesus Christ \"for your sake... became poor although he was rich, so that by his poverty you might become rich.\" He thereby sets the pattern for counsel that follows: \"but that as a matter of equality your surplus at the present time should supply their needs, so that their surplus may also supply your needs, that there may be equality.\"14\n\nEqualizing is seen in construction of Kingdom Halls worldwide. 'Lands with Limited Resources' have been recipients of donations so as to build therein places of worship that would be beyond their means otherwise. During a fourteen-year period commencing in 1999, almost 27,000 Kingdom Halls were built that way, generally by local Witnesses working with global volunteers skilled in construction. Virtually all Kingdom Halls in Russia were built this way, says Chivchalov. After the trial, Dvorkin crowed that the Russian Supreme Court action had deprived Jehovah's Witnesses of outside funding. 'Let them exist on honey and locusts,' he said in effect. 'That ought to be a fair test of whether their version of Christianity can thrive.' To the extent the Russian complaint is correct that the Watchtower is a vast money-pumping machine, it has pumped money into, not out of, the country, which money the government has seen fit to take for itself.\n\nIn the U.S. and other Western lands, there is even a movement to consolidate congregations where underutilization of Kingdom Halls exists, selling off the surplus building so as to fund with it the construction of many Kingdom Halls in less affluent areas. Historically, Kingdom Halls were built as Witnesses living in different areas struck out from the main Hall to build ones of their own, in their own communities. Over time, some of these Halls became overcrowded and some dwindled into under-use.\n\nNot all Kingdom Halls have burst at the seams. They were all supposed to. The pattern of the first century repeats itself. The learned ones of that time looked down upon Christianity, and the educated ones of the modern day sometimes leave the faith should they become too educated for their pants, as they exchange it for something with spiritual overtones but no practical bite, something that will spiritualize them but by no means supplant their quest for the better life in this system. It is the same with money as with education. As soon as people accumulate enough of it, they are inclined to say 'Who needs God?' the essence of Proverbs 30:8. Accordingly, the Witness faith explodes in poorer lands and holds its own in wealthier educated lands. There are even occasional reverses. Of course, one never knows what the future will hold for any given area.\n\nConsolidation where advantageous is a responsible use of resources, even if it means a longer twice-a-week commute for some who acquiesce to this financially responsible direction. After all, shut down one dud of a Kingdom Hall in a U.S. area that has not filled it, and you can build one hundred or more in poorer nations that greatly need them, or even one in the same nation where land prices are astronomical. One of the reasons Jehovah's organization works and others do not, at least not on such a scale, is that Witnesses have come to identify with the _entire_ brotherhood, regardless of where in the world they may live, and do not obsess about their own immediate interests. They do not all figure they have to all go over to Benin or wherever and see for themselves and each ponder over the balance statement and have special sessions to discuss it and take a vote on it, thinking no one other than they themselves can be trusted—they just don't. They have decided the ones having oversight are trustworthy, as they have given no cause to think otherwise, as they adhere to the same healthful scriptural teachings, so they grin and bear it if some policy does not work to their immediate benefit.\n\nThe demand to render public accounting is but a nod to another form of human self-rule: democracy. It is faith that the people should scrutinize every nickel spent and that such a course is the only way to keep those running the show honest. By law public corporations must do it. Private corporations do not. Does that mean they keep no accounts? No. It just means they do not feel the obligation to report to the general world. With regard to the Watchtower organization, congregation members do not demand it. Their detractors will not be satisfied with it.\n\nWe will be able to smell fraud when Sam Herd upgrades to a bigger dorm room. Let there be some evidence of chicanery before ones assume that their democratic method is the be-all and end-all. It shouldn't be hard to understand. If some twist undeniably good deeds to make them seem vile, exaggerate any missteps, ignore any mitigating factors, and without exception impute bad motives, what will they do when they discover Bethel upgraded from plastic laminate to solid wood furnishings at the headquarters lobby? They are dealing with ones who simply want to take them down. If you hate the message, you will hate the messenger. That is a valid position: hating the message. Just be upfront about it. Perhaps they will one day open up their financial books in worldwide publication for all to scrutinize, but they have offered no sign of it yet.\n\nOne might consider how Paul's first letter to the Corinthians bears on the subject: \"Do you not know that the holy ones will judge the world? If the world is to be judged by you, are you unqualified for the lowest law courts? Do you not know that we will judge angels? Then why not everyday matters?\"15 If the 'holy ones' back then were to be entrusted with spiritual lives, were they incapable of handling 'worldly wealth?' Are they incapable of handling it today?\n\nThe Bible does not encourage of love of money. 'Give me enough of it,' says a psalmist, 'but not too much.' It has a way of corrupting. It has a way of engendering high self-esteem, which is as detrimental as low self-esteem. Money is incidental to a person's worth, not the very fabric of it. The rich young man who could not bear to part with his wealth would find it hard to gain entrance into the kingdom, Jesus said. Another who could only think of building bigger barns for his harvest failed to anticipate that he was to die that night with no spiritual wealth accumulated. \"For the love of money is the root of all evils, and some people in their desire for it have strayed from the faith and have pierced themselves with many pains.\" Not money in itself, but the love of money is the problem.16 Accordingly, when a Watchtower article ran the life experiences of a man known to me personally, it _did not even mention_ the fact that he was a self-made millionaire;17 many religious groups would fawn over the fact. He _must_ have been a millionaire, unless he gave it all away, which is not impossible, for he was a very generous man. Tracts of homes bearing his construction firm's name appear throughout the area.\n\nJesus tells a quirky parable to convey the proper view of money. It involves a steward about to be fired who acts in a dishonest way: \"A rich man had a steward who was reported to him for squandering his property. He summoned him and said, 'What is this I hear about you? Prepare a full account of your stewardship, because you can no longer be my steward.' The steward said to himself, 'What shall I do, now that my master is taking the position of steward away from me? I am not strong enough to dig and I am ashamed to beg. I know what I shall do so that, when I am removed from the stewardship, they may welcome me into their homes.' He called in his master's debtors one by one. To the first he said, 'How much do you owe my master?' He replied, 'One hundred measures of olive oil.' He said to him, 'Here is your promissory note. Sit down and quickly write one for fifty.' Then to another he said, 'And you, how much do you owe?' He replied, 'One hundred kors of wheat.' He said to him, 'Here is your promissory note; write one for eighty.'\n\n\"And the master commended that dishonest steward for acting prudently. For the children of this world are more prudent in dealing with their own generation than are the children of light. I tell you, make friends for yourselves with dishonest wealth, so that when it fails, you will be welcomed into eternal dwellings.\"18\n\nWould he really commend the dishonest steward for stealing him blind? These days, security guards escort you to the door of the company that you have been downsized out of so as to prevent that from happening. Jesus uses an illustration that doesn't exactly ring true to teach a greater point: the 'unrighteous riches' are the assets one has as a consequence of living in an unrighteous world. Use them in such a way to gain friends, primarily a certain Friend who runs the 'eternal dwellings.' Be generous with what assets you have, and if you are stingy in this you will be stingy in human qualities too.\n\nThe phrase 'dishonest wealth' is rendered in various translations as 'worldly wealth,' 'wealth of unrighteousness,' and 'mammon of iniquity.' The banned New World Translation calls it 'unrighteous riches.' Always there is a taint. It is good stuff, money is, but it is not completely above board. The financial system that awards it is absolutely amoral, and sometimes immoral. Don't let the worldly wealth go to your head, for it is wont to do that. Why _not_ feature a \"dishonest\" (or unrighteous) steward to drive home the point? It is not a virtue in itself that he is financially comfortable. It came about because of his master. He has learned to play the game, that's all. Others equally virtuous, or even more so, have not been so adept, or have played half-heartedly. The game is not the stuff of life. Though much of the American Protestant tradition marches financial prosperity and godliness practically in lockstep, there is little correlation between the two, and to the extent that there is, it is sometimes reverse.\n\nIt is hardly shocking that Christians today should contribute toward the spread of kingdom interests. Always, and unlike in many other religions, it is: \"Let each one give privately according to what is in one's own heart, for God loves a cheerful giver.\" Always it is: \"Each must do as already determined, without sadness or compulsion.\" Always it is: \"When you give alms, do not let your left hand know what your right is doing, so that your almsgiving may be secret. And your Father who sees in secret will repay you.\" Always it is: \"When you give alms, do not blow a trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets to win the praise of others.\"19 In the faith of Jehovah's Witnesses, one has not the slightest idea what anyone else is giving.\n\nCountless persons today will say that they believe in God but decline to align themselves with organized religion. Organized anything means nothing but abuse of power, they have sadly concluded, and they want no part of it. Surely they are selling God short to assume that he would be incapable of uniting people in Christian conduct so that the inherent advantages of organization can be realized. Or perhaps they are demanding too much, by insisting they will only deal with the Top Man. God has always dealt through a human agency. The Bible record of first-century Christians is replete with persons overcoming the frictions of life to work together—even with the fishermen (John and Peter) telling the scholars (Paul, and arguably, Luke20) what to do. Insist upon face time with God exclusively and one had better be able to deliver a record more spotless than anyone has delivered so far. After all, people individually are not exactly the creampuffs they ought be if they would demand to be served by a flawless human organization. They will have to take what they can get.\n\nTo carry on and on about the donations Witnesses give to the cause they believe in—can it be any more than mere jealousy? If Jehovah's Witnesses flood the coffers in response to very little prodding, as has been seen, why should their detractors care? Can it be anything more than an intense dislike for the message preached, and so a trumped-up charge that they are somehow doing it underhandedly, crying crocodile tears with a feigned concern for ones so 'deceived'? All the evidence indicates Witnesses are quite satisfied and do not feel deceived at all. It is every other commercial interest relentlessly trying to get its hands into my pocket that I must be on guard against.\n\nKaterina Chernova pushes back at 'money-pumping' allegations Witnesses are subjected to. Yes, they are heard all the time, she acknowledges, but \"when [people] are asked to name just one victim from whom money, apartments, or something else was taken by the Witnesses, NOBODY was able to remember A SINGLE case in fact! So we asked to show us or give the address of just one cottage of a Jehovah's Witness, built with money stolen from people. And again, nobody knows a single real instance.\" She goes on to relate a small fact that is actually huge and says it all: with Jehovah's Witnesses, baptisms and weddings and funerals are conducted \"on a cost-free basis.\" (It's true. I have buried many.) With the Orthodox Church? \"We have heard many complaints against it regarding the impossibility of performing any ritual in the event that a person does not have money. That is, you want to be 'baptized,\"—some 'donation;' you want to be 'married,'—it takes so much cash; a 'funeral,'—it is also not for free.\" An avaricious organization is not going to cut off these most dependable of all generators of cash.21\n\nMore than once jealousy is identified in Scripture as the true reason for underhanded means. \"When the Jews saw the crowds, they were filled with jealousy,\" and they resorted to \"violent abuse,\" says Acts. What could fit into the pattern more nicely than stealing that gift Paul was to deliver to Jerusalem before he could get it there? The only reason one might condemn any money-raising of the Watchtower organization is the desire to eliminate that organization. It enables a powerful magnification of the kingdom proclaiming work, and to kill that work is the object.22\n\nChapter 13 endnotes\n\nReturn to Table of Contents\n\n# Chapter 13 – Earth\n\nWhat's not to like about WALL-E, the 2008 American computer-animated movie? A trash compactor robot, WALL-E (Waste Allocation Load Lifter Earth-class) spends his days compacting trash with an eye on making the earth fit for rehabilitation. You see, centuries ago, humans polluted the earth to the point of ruin, and then evacuated in massive spaceships. There, they loll about in such ease that their limbs have atrophied, and they have become essentially helpless, though good-natured, blobs. Before they fled the planet they had ruined, they left robots to tidy up things, so they might eventually return. Only WALL-E remains on the job, for reasons I forget, and as one might imagine, he is lonely. All that changes when a pretty female robot (EVE) shows up. Sparks fly, as is to be expected with robots. The two save the planet, fight off the bad robots, and pave the way for the humans to return!\n\nThe film was an instant blockbuster. What menial job can garner more sympathy than that of saving the earth? \"You leave WALL-E with a feeling of the rarest kind,\" said film critic Peter Travers. It \"fills you with pure exhilaration.\" Saving the planet will do that. I liked the film. My wife liked it. Surely everyone must have liked it. But when she mentioned it to a co-worker, the latter lamented how sad the movie was. Sad? \"What we're doing to the earth, what we're leaving behind for our children, is an absolute tragedy,\" she said.\n\nWell—yes, the film would have that effect on some, wouldn't it? After all, WALL-E was a movie reminding viewers of a present that is not so rosy. \"If Wall-E has anything original to say, it takes place in the first 30 minutes on a planet heaped high with junk. But the parallels between fiction and reality are almost too painful to contemplate,\" writes another film critic, Dorothy Woodend.\n\nThe Bible frankly states that humans will, by their self-centered activity, threaten to \"destroy the earth.\" Believers can take comfort that the same verse says God will destroy them before they can complete their task, but if you didn't know that, it would be disheartening indeed.1\n\nIs it beneficial for the earth short-term for people to know that? Or does it make them complacent? Why worry about the earth since God will eventually clean it up? Witnesses have had people accuse them of holding just that attitude. \"This [JW belief that God's kingdom only can permanently solve earth's environmental woes] leads to the undeniable fact that Witnesses take almost no initiative towards making the world we live in a better place in any way,\" someone grumbled online.\n\nWell—not to oversimplify, but if the entire population were Witnesses, there would be no need for efforts to make the world we live in better in the first place. This is because of the traits which are instilled into each Witness. They are law-abiding to the core, honest, industrious, not abusing government services, nor contributing to the criminal element operating with little hindrance in many lands. They are promoting stable, monogamous families—all of this by virtue of making the Bible their guide to life.\n\nAnd to think that this writer was upbraided a few years ago, along with all his people, for not picking up the roadside trash. \"Enough Jehovah's Witness preaching, already!\" scolded an interlocutor, \"what good is that? Do something useful, instead,\" said he, and then carried on about how he and his entire family took part in a local park clean-up, picking up rubbish that other slobs had tossed here, there, and everywhere. Look, no one is against cleanup days—they are undeniably a good thing—but how silly to imagine that, by thus taking part, we're saving the planet, when, in one dastardly swoop, some industrial blunder will undo the efforts of countless picker-uppers.\n\nJust about the time of this exchange online, there was such a blunder. British Petrolium lost a rig in the Gulf of Mexico and 3-4 million gallons of oil poured out over 87 days: \"the worst environmental disaster in U.S. history,\" it was labeled. \"How to clean up the mess? And who's at blame!\" cried Time Magazine's cover of June 21, 2010, against a backdrop of oil-soaked pelicans. The magazine listed a \"dirty dozen,\" which included the prior president and his Secretary of State, a former oilman, but also the current president and some of his underlings. There were also a handful of other tycoons, needless to say, and one or two indulgent regulators. Even the ubiquitous American driver was on the list, since he fuels demand for oil in the first place. Got it? We're all to blame. There are no good guys in white hats, only bad guys in black, oily ones. President Obama declared that he was looking for \"asses to kick,\" even while hinting that his own posterior might be among them.\n\nReports had it that local picker-uppers were showing up on the coast—to be told to get lost, since this was a job for pros! BP and others floated salvage ships to corral surface oil and burn it. Dire predictions were of massive environmental collapse from the oil that escaped and lined the shore. It didn't happen. Not to say that there might not be long term consequences, but, by and large, the earth is pretty good at healing itself. It really is true that the U.S. media ignores even qualified good news, preferring to focus on overwhelming devastation itself, along with who is to blame, and delighting in the President's then-combative ass-kicking tone.\n\nNo, I won't stand for it: to be told preaching is valueless and community cleanup days are the path to salvation. And do not mistake that statement as unconcern for the environment. When our children were small and we hiked the trails at Allegheny State Park, we would take trash bags with us and make a treasure hunt out of it, collecting beer and pop cans along the way. Some had been there for years. There were even some of the ancient tin types, cans that had been opened, not with pop-tops, but with can openers such as I remember from when I was a boy—extra points were awarded for such finds! And heaven help you if you are the pig dumping fast food trash out the car window and Mrs. Harley is driving behind you! She all but rams your bumper and slaps you in handcuffs, hauling you off to the sheriff under citizens' arrest.\n\nOne fellow with an Internet connection gripes about Jehovah's Witnesses: \"They don't even need to recycle if they don't want to.\" What kind of an accusation is that? Are there groups that maintain their people _must_ recycle, whether they want to or not? Where recycling is the law of the community, Witness compliance is higher than most, no doubt, since they are well-known to be law-abiding. Where it is not the law of the land, likely Witness compliance is still higher than most, out of respect for the planet.\n\nSometimes financially secure, trendy neighborhoods take up recycling as their special cause. When that happens, they may outdo the average Witness. But Witnesses surely shine when compared to the population in general. When I attended a wine festival, each vendor offered samples of wine, cheese, candy, sauce, whatever, in single-use plastic cups, plates, or skewering toothpicks. Were they recycled? I don't think so; all trash was mixed together. In the medical field, everything is single-use only, disposable, in the interests of sanitation. Nothing is washed. Nothing is reused. When I once worked part-time for a retail inventory firm, reputed to be the country's largest consumer of AAA batteries, I asked whether they were recycled. They laughed at me. Into the trash those batteries went, each and every last one of them.\n\nWe are all for local clean-up-the-park days. Same with clean-up-the-roadside days. None of Jehovah's Witnesses will ever speak against such things, unless you count observations that such are, at best, a stop-gap measure, and that the lasting solution will come only when God carries out his promise to \"destroy those destroying the earth.\" Witnesses tend to use their free time to highlight this latter solution, the one that, in the end, is the one that counts. My experience is that it is only the tiniest sliver of the population who take part in such cleanups, anyway—it is not as though Jehovah's Witnesses are thwarting the entire effort. And surely it must count for something that Witnesses aren't among those who caused the mess in the first place.\n\nThere is a hazardous waste recycling center nearby, a joint effort by the county and Waste Management. It is regularly trafficked by environmentally conscious persons who are not too weighed down by the cares of life, but it serves a 30-mile radius. What percentage of the population actually travels 30 miles to use it? Into the common landfills most stuff goes, which is admittedly an improvement over simply dumping garbage out in the back woods back in the day.\n\nHaving said all this, in Russia Jehovah's Witnesses clean up the parks. If they were to do it here, it would prove the very opposite of the Russian government's claim, for the United States Witnesses would not have told Russian Witnesses what to do, but Russian Witnesses would have told the American ones what to do. \"In Russia, congregations do it all the time,\" Chivchalov says. \"Most congregations do it. It has become a custom for them. Parks are more or less okay, other people clean them too, but still there is garbage to clean, and sometimes the authorities just lack enough workers, so there may be tons of garbage at times. We clean not only parks, but any public areas. We usually ask the city administration to assign some areas for us to clean.\"\n\nIt's not a bad marriage, is it? The ones who hope to live forever on a paradise earth volunteer to clean it up now. The earth is not a cheap hotel room that is not up to your standards but since you are staying only a few days you can overlook it. No. It is our permanent home. Witnesses are not one of those religions that are 'just passing through'—a few decades on the planet, then off to heavenly realms. Clean up those parks!\n\nMight this even present opportunities to speak of God's future promises regarding the planet? I'd be surprised if it didn't. Whereas there are some denominations that teach God will one day destroy the earth with fire, what an ideal venue is a congregation park cleanup to explain that he won't. What a perfect setting in which to tell the illustration Witnesses love to tell: 'If you have built a house and rented it out to tenants who have destroyed it, you don't burn down the house. You evict the tenants and find better ones.\"\n\nExtrapolating from too little data, Chivchalov says, with regard to park cleanups, that 'other people clean them too.' If they ever do it here, they certainly do not do it so commonly that one could say 'other people clean them too.' Does Russia clean up the planet more than does America, while polluting it less? You could certainly make the case that Russia has _saved_ the planet a time or two. Or three. There are that many examples of when a Russian has _literally_ saved the planet from nuclear ruin. I can think of no such examples in the West.\n\nIn 1983, Lieutenant Colonel Stanislav Petrov, in charge of the command center for the Oko nuclear early-warning system, saw that five missiles had been launched by the United States. The eyes of all his subordinates were upon him. Had he passed the information along to his superiors, it would have triggered an immediate Soviet counterstrike. He judged it was a malfunction and told underlings to forget about it. Of course, investigation later confirmed that he had been correct. Stanislav died during 2017, to relatively scant notice.2 He is one of the Ecclesiastes \"princes who went on foot like slaves, while slaves rode on horseback.\"3\n\nAnother was Vasili Arkhipov. He was the sole one of three senior officers on the nuclear-missile equipped submarine B-59 who refused to authorize their use—authorization had to be unanimous—during the Cuban Missile Crisis of 1962. Thomas Blanton, then director of the U.S. National Security Archives, credited him with \"saving the world.\"4 Third was Nikita Khrushchev, mentioned in the Statecraft chapter, sending the telegram that arguably defused the Cuban tension and ended the crisis.\n\nNuclear attack was a very real fear in the years following World War II. I used to crouch under my school desk, as mentioned in chapter 6, with hands clasped behind neck, until my classmates and I grew too big for such \"protection,\" at which point we filed into the hallway and leaned against our lockers. Nor was it only the United States who had to be wary of the Russians. Russians had good reasons to be wary of the U.S. Intoxicated by the decisive end to the second world war brought about by the Hiroshima and Nagasaki bombings, American General Douglas MacArthur sought to use up to 50 of the new devices just five years later along the Chinese and Russian border, to close out the Korean War, in a strike that would have made doings in Japan look like a schoolyard brawl. President Truman wouldn't let him do it.5\n\nNuclear annihilation fired the popular imagination during the 1950s and 1960s. Remember how Ray Bradbury's character in The Martian Chronicles trains his telescope on earth just in time to see its final mushroom cloud? And who can forget Charlton Heston in Planet of the Apes encountering the half-buried Statue of Liberty, suddenly realizing just what planet he is on, and screaming: \"They blew it up! Damn them! Damn them to hell!\" Not to mention the Twilight Zone episode in which that hen-pecked fellow goes into the bank vault to read, only to have the world end while he is so occupied. Far from being put out, he is delighted, since he can now read free from the eternal nagging of his boss and wife. Unfortunately, he breaks his glasses. Thus far, none of those disasters have come about. Up till now, there is always someone to, just in the nick of time, hold the earth together, but it's one heck of a way to run a planet. Didn't they just reset the Doomsday Clock at two minutes before midnight? Many think that threat is now greater than ever, since there are more nuclear powers, and they are more unstable.\n\nWhen I became one of Jehovah's Witnesses in the 1970s and came across that scripture telling how God would \"destroy those destroying the earth,\" I read it in terms of nuclear destruction. It was really the only means of destroying the earth that anyone could envision back then. Yes, some areas were polluted then, but nobody saw such things as a threat to the entire earth. These days an endless list leaps to mind—most are some variant of man-made pollution. Taking first place has to be global warming, but through the years we've also learned to fret about global dimming, species eradication, air and water pollution, acid rain, deforestation, contamination of the food supply, and so forth. Wasn't there just some study detailing how pharmaceuticals have found their way into the water supply? In minute concentrations, of course, yet over time, and given the fact that such chemicals are specifically designed to interact with living tissue, isn't it another \"destroying the earth\" scenario?\n\nThe Bible uses the term 'earth' in yet another way. It doesn't always refer to the physical planet. It can refer to the society living upon it. If we broaden our definition of earth in this way, we as a consequence, add new social ways in which humans destroy the earth. In fact, when God spells out a reason for bringing the flood of Noah's time, he declares that the earth is corrupted, not by air pollution or global warming, but by human violence.6 Surely violence corrupts the earth today. Imagine hatred so intense that people delight to die if only they can take a dozen or so with them! Ever more graphic violence is a staple of television entertainment. In the wake of a school shooting, the president gathered video game makers to say that their products are too violent, and they should tone it down. The media promptly trotted out experts bristling with degrees to 'correct him.' Yes, it does make a certain intuitive sense, they conceded, but science shows that violent games provide a harmless substitute for the real thing and true violence actually decreases when people play all the games they want.7 Will they dare say it with regard to child porn?\n\nNew ways of destruction continue to surface, even as the older ones continue to simmer. Putin has declared that whoever controls artificial intelligence (AI) controls the world.8 Others say no one will control AI; in time it will control us, and will perhaps squash us one fine day, without malice, when it perceives we have somehow gotten in its way. Predictably, AI is instantly adapted to porn. Supplementing online porn and virtual-reality porn, AI-enhanced porn produces a product so enticing that it is feared people will neglect the real thing. Will God be thwarted? Will the irresistible force of sexual attraction, the key to preservation of the species, becomes a 'been there, done that' thing?\n\nSuch things are not unexpected to the student of the Bible and are just part of the accumulating 'sign' that human rulership is unfit, and that God is fully justified in bringing its end, to be replaced with his own kingdom rule. Only then will the earth ever be free of threats to its existence.\n\nStill, even with that knowledge, trialsome conditions are trialsome conditions. Jehovah's people may see light at the end of the tunnel, but it is a tunnel nonetheless. Sometimes people give up on the light and instead focus on the tunnel. Some simply worry about it, and some try to patch it up. It is easy to wobble in faith. If Paul could speak of those who had experienced \"shipwreck of their faith\" in his day, much more do his words apply in our day as the whole earth wobbles insanely and all feel its effects. Doubtless that is why the Witness organization lays so much stress on 'staples' such as meetings, public ministry, and Bible study: staples that Russia seeks to deprive them of. These are the avenues—really, the only avenues—through which Christians can focus on the big picture of God's deliverance.\n\nDanish citizen and Russian resident Dennis Christensen was picking up the public park, just like WALL-E, until the Ministry of Justice decided he was a dangerous criminal that should be jailed. Dennis is the same fellow who built a playground for the children. How extremist does that sound? His congregation has a nice certificate from the mayor. Maybe it is even mounted somewhere: \"In gratitude for a good deed—garbage collection for the benefit of people and nature.\" Christensen's role himself was to stand in foot-deep Orlik River water to fish out bags of trash. It's his last act before losing his freedom. Someone later snapped a picture of the 23-person delegation standing behind bags upon bags of the rubbish they had collected, as though fishermen holding aloft the big ones that did not get away.9 The congregation tells of a city representative sympathetic to Jehovah's Witnesses, in the midst of their persecution, who wished them not to lose the 'power of the spirit.'\n\nIs there anything less radical that cleaning up the park? Does ISIS do it? If they do, most would hesitate to stroll through the area afterwards for fear of booby traps. How better to expose the nonsense of an 'extremist' label than to continue cleanups of public places? Will policemen follow along and monitor Witnesses to make sure they don't witness to anyone? If they do, they may find themselves having to clean up the parks themselves—on the taxpayer's dime, no less, and not for free as the Witnesses do.\n\nAfter hurricane, flood, or earthquake, an entire city becomes a park to clean up. It is here that the Witness organization excels, having developed \"the disaster response volunteer service to a fine art.\" Their art is simple, yet unreachable for many. People's love for one another must be strong enough that it does not snap under adversity. There must be sufficient organization. It cannot be watered down by everyone wanting to be the chief. One weak link hampers all. Several weak links all but destroy it. Jehovah's Witnesses are well known to have that love for one another and, as a byproduct, they are able to effectively organize without fuss in times of natural disaster.\n\nEven the prompt Witness response to such disaster is spun as a negative by apostates. Why do the Witnesses just help themselves, they will say, with only the spillover benefiting the greater community? Why do not they help everyone without preference? The answer is that Witness workers are volunteers taking time off from work. A project can only be as large as there are volunteers available. The solution is for all other groups to organize themselves as Witnesses do for disaster relief. Helping one another promptly and effectively should not be unattainable rocket science. Others who rise to the occasion will thereby become so busy that they will have no time to complain that the doers are doing it wrong. People without Bible education tend not to get along. They supply unexpected friction at the very moment lubricant is needed. The Watchtower organization has no idea how to organize them. They will have to organize themselves.\n\nConsistent with cleaning up the parks is building facilities that 'understand' the earth: that sway when it sways, that breathes when it breathes, and that has the most minimal impact upon the environment possible. Watchtower branch headquarters, 70 kilometers outside of London, completed in 2017, was certified 'Outstanding' by a leading sustainability authority for green construction methods.10 This is similar to the 'Four Green Globes' rating given the new worldwide headquarters in Warwick NY by an American agency.11 The branch facility in Haiti sustained but minor damage in a 2010 earthquake that flattened Port-au-Prince; it had been built quake resistant.\n\nIn Gardiner, New York, Witnesses restored, repaired and painted that community's 143-year-old town hall. \"They did amazing work,\" the town supervisor exclaimed at the next town-board meeting. They even combed through the archive photographs to repaint the trim a more historically authentic forest green.12 In Warwick, New York, they provided labor to repair the dam whose failure would have destroyed 200 residences downstream.13 In Patterson, New York, they landscaped the town's firehouse and even bought them a new firetruck when told it lacked a vehicle that could service the five-story buildings Witnesses were constructing.14\n\nBefore realizing it was later to call anything Witness-related extremist, the editorial board of the journal World of Design in 2015 heaped praise upon the Witness' branch headquarters in St Petersburg and its purpose.15 \"The hall...is intended only for one main purpose—a thorough study of the Bible. Worship of God occurs both individually and with a large crowd of people, this is the basis of the tradition of thousands of biblical seminars.\"\n\nWorld of Design even noted its commitment to equality, a Russian ideal. \"The principles of equal opportunities are promulgated for all who came here—if something is given here, then equally and of the same quality, this refers to lighting, location, acoustic level and air ventilation. The center provides comfortable conditions for all visitors, without fail on equal terms.\"\n\nThe journal noted not a hint of catering to the luxurious; all was purely practical. \"In this strictly functional building there are no exquisite ornaments. Nowhere is there any sense of luxury—such are the principles universally accepted in places of worship of Jehovah's Witnesses as early as the beginning of the 20th century.\"\n\nAs to the building itself, it \"impressively combined with light, sometimes striped volumes, giving a harmonious look of the building. As the architects assumed, the building became an adornment of the city. Simultaneously attractive and elegant, it turned into some kind of architectural dominant of this area.\"\n\nRussian authorities liked it so much that they took it! Did the government recognize these unique attributes as they confiscated the center, built almost exclusively by Witness volunteers? A group of Finnish investors, fretting over an investment climate they judged negative in Russia, called the confiscation of private property \"a very bad signal for the market.\"16 At any rate, it certainly gives new meaning to a passage in Ezekiel:\n\n\"You will say, 'I will invade a land of open villages and attack a peaceful people who live in security—all of them living without city walls, bars, or gates' in order to plunder and pillage, turning your hand against resettled ruins, against a people gathered from the nations, a people whose concern is cattle and goods, dwelling at the center of the earth.\"17\n\nChapter 14 endnotes\n\nReturn to Table of Contents\n\n# Chapter 14 – Fake News\n\nFake news is everywhere. Some of it surfaced about the Russian ban: 'Church members of Russia have united! They have launched massive protests against the government in behalf of the Witnesses! President Trump rebuked Russia and invited its entire Witness population to the United States! He visited a Kingdom Hall to worship with them!' All of it is fake news. It didn't happen.1\n\nIs \"the news\" another one of those biblical hills that melt in the last days? Is it now a thing that people of bygone days could depend upon but now need to call in Sherlock Holmes to decipher whether or not it is genuine? Is 'reading the news' now the informational equivalent of playing Russian Roulette?\n\nGiven this apparent new normal, I will take the Trump story, fake news though it is. No, he did not speak out in favor of Jehovah's Witnesses. But the story plants the clear notion that he should have. Most fake news about Jehovah's Witnesses is derogatory. It is the 'every kind of evil' falsely said against them. It's about time something went our way. Now it is only a matter of time before some poor body of elders must deal with NBC or somebody attempting to set up shop in their foyer so that they can broadcast \"Live from the Kingdom Hall.\"\n\nThe derogatory fake news against Jehovah's Witnesses today calls to mind the derogatory fake news against early Christians. The skeptic Caecilius of the 2nd century C.E. hurls the charge that they were \"a people skulking and shunning the light, silent in public, but garrulous in corners,\" who \"despise honours and purple robes.\" They \"love one another almost before they know one another... and they call one another promiscuously brothers and sisters.\"2\n\n\"Assuredly, this confederation ought to be rooted out and execrated,\" Caecilius asserts. In the meantime, they were best advised to, if they had \"any wisdom or modesty, cease from prying into the regions of the sky, and the destinies and secrets of the world: it is sufficient to look before your feet, especially for untaught, uncultivated, boorish, rustic people: they who have no capacity for understanding civil matters, are much more denied the ability to discuss divine.\"3 Then, as now, explaining God was reserved for professionals. Amateurs had no business in the house of God.\n\nThe term was unheard of just two years ago. Now the expression \"fake news\" is as familiar as the Lord's prayer. Outlets pledge to search for and destroy fake news so that others are not misled. Unfortunately, fake news can be in the eye of the beholder. Real news is but another manifestation of _'History is written by the victors.'—_ it is written by the interests that have outmaneuvered the competition. There is often no way to tell if its real or not. A certain one online tweets: \"Right now, everyone believes news which doesn't fit their preconceived agenda is fake,\" a situation he describes as \"mental.\" Would anyone like to challenge him that it is, in reality, right as rain?\n\nFrom the advent of filmmaking, countless dramatic movies have ended with the whistleblower testifying before _important_ people, and the mighty press finally publishing _The Truth!_ The villains have been raising mayhem throughout the film trying to prevent that outcome, but at the movie's climactic end, they are thwarted! The people come to know! _All_ of the people come to know! It is one of the most predictable plotlines of entertainment. Yet, all those movies are ridiculously dated and must be rewritten to reflect current realities. It shouldn't be hard. It requires just an addendum that can be attached to all films. The morning after, whoever has been fingered says: \"It is Fake News! People, can we just move on?\" No harm done.\n\nIt will only get worse. The New York Times writes about an app that makes it \"relatively easy to create realistic face swaps and leave few traces of manipulation....It's not hard to imagine this technology's being used to smear politicians, create counterfeit revenge porn or frame people for crimes. Lawmakers have already begun to worry about how 'deepfakes' could be used for political sabotage and propaganda.\" The anonymous developer cheerfully helps the Times reporter try his own hand at it. \"I've given it a lot of thought,\" he [says], \"and ultimately I've decided I don't think it's right to condemn the technology itself.\"4 Of course not! They never do. It's on to the next advance of science! Let the ethicists figure out what he has just dumped in their laps, something \"which can of course be used for many purposes, good and bad.\" It's their problem, not his. Surely we can rely upon them to form and implement responsible policy. What's that? We can't? Oh, well.\n\nAlready, news sources show an eagerness to rely upon unidentified sources, who frequently turn out to be wrong. Will they handle this new advance responsibly? Not only can we expect 'proven by video' character assassination to become routine, but the more lasting consequence of this new technological advance will be that even _genuine_ video evidence will be readily dismissed as fake news. It is Isaiah envisioned: \"Ah! Those who call evil good, and good evil, who change darkness to light, and light into darkness, who change bitter to sweet, and sweet into bitter!\"5 The guileless one so slandered will explode in moral indignation, and thus look guilty as hell. The professional liar will shrug it off with the feigned saddened dismay that his enemies could sink so low. It may be that \"the wrath of the Lord blazes against [this] people,\" but not before they have enjoyed their substantial day in the sun.\n\nSometimes the news is so new and unanticipated that you are hard-pressed to know whether it is fake or not. From Moscow, RT.com reporter Robert Bridge lists 10 things you probably never heard of 10 years ago. They include public statues dedicated to Satan, the accepted notion that one might have been assigned the wrong gender, widespread opioid addiction, sex with robots, college campuses where students are protected from debate, legalized marijuana, taking a knee during the national anthem, pink vagina hats, Internet appliances that spy on people, and cryptocurrencies. Dastardly invaders from outer space will conclude there must be something in the air that they don't dare risk catching and will hightail it back to wherever planet they came from. One is reminded of the Dr. Seuss author's widow, lamenting another desecration that she never thought she would live to see (the commercialization of her husband's work): \"If Ted could see this, he'd say 'I'm glad I'm dead.'\"\n\nReally, is it not all fake news? Is it not an absurd drama? The Bible portrays it all as an act, an unreality, not the true life at all. Consistently, the Scriptures employ the imagery of a stage play. \"For the world in its present form is passing away,\" says NABRE, the 'house' translation for this work.6 Other translations read similarly: \"Because this world in its present form is passing away.\" (CEB) \"For the present form of this world is passing away.\" (ESV) \"For the mode of this world passes away.\" (HNV) \"For the fashion of this world passeth away.\" (KJV) \"For this world in its present form is passing away.\" (NIV)\n\n\"The image is drawn from a shifting scene in a play represented on the stage,\" says the reference work Commentary Critical and Explanatory on the Whole Bible. Thus, the New World Translation's rendering, \"the scene of this world is changing,\" is the best rendering of all, even if it is extremist.\n\nThe world is an act and the scenes are ever changing. Christians are the central actors of the play. Nearly all translations employ the word 'spectacle,' as in: \"we have become a spectacle to the world, to angels and human beings alike.\"7 (NABRE) The New International Reader's Version dispenses with \"spectacle\" but still manages to nail the point with \"We have been made a show for the whole creation to see.\" The New World Translation better defines 'spectacle' as 'theatrical spectacle.' Angels and people are watching Christians. They are to become a theatrical spectacle to the world? Very well. If that is to be their role, let them give the world some theater.\n\nThe world is stage to a play featuring heroes and villains. They are all actors. After 80 years, the curtain falls on the individual actor and it is off to the grave for him or her, to be succeeded by a fresh young face. This explains why Watchtower publications seldom name names. There is no reason to shame or honor the individual actors because it is not about them. It is about the play they are starring in. Take an actor out, and another one immediately steps into his shoes. Their names are not important. It can even be a distraction to know the names. Name a villain and you create the impression that removing that villain will solve matters. Instead, another villain assumes the role without fuss. It is the play we must follow, not the villains in it, or even the heroes.\n\nThe villains are even described in terms that make clear it is a play. The etymology of 'hypocrite' is that of an actor who wears a mask, just as they would do in the ancient plays. The technique served to amplify voice, hide true identity, and thereby facilitate a new role.8 Similarly, the villains in Jesus' time routinely hid what they were. When they delivered Jesus to Pilate, they feigned concern that the government might be defrauded: \"They brought charges against him, saying, 'We found this man misleading our people; he opposes the payment of taxes to Caesar and maintains that he is the Messiah, a king.'\" They knew Pilate didn't care about the first or the third charge, so they threw in the second to make him sit up and take notice. Opponents today of the Christian work employ similar methods.9\n\nIf the New World translators particularly identify with the image of actors on a stage, might it be because they have acted on many a stage? They are by no means Christians comfortably ensconced in academia. Every householder's front porch is a stage, and they have starred upon countless ones. They have seen rave reviews. They have seen dismal reviews. At times, the reviewers have been so unkind as to chase them right off the stage. So, yes, they know a thing or two about being a theatrical spectacle to the world. They have seen a thing or two.\n\nWhy strut around on the stage we will leave so soon, and perhaps without dignity? If people do strut nonetheless—for humans are proud actors—should they not be read the verse: \"Can you then fear mortals who die, human beings who are just grass?\"10 In his day, U.S. President Ronald Reagan was arguably the most important human alive. Ten years later, with Alzheimer's, he didn't know who he was.\n\nAs mentioned previously, the American newsman Charlie Rose interviewed Putin in 2015.11 \"You have a popularity rating in Russia that would make every politician in the world envious. Why are you so popular?\" Rose asked. \"There is something that I have in common with every citizen of Russia, the love for our motherland,\" Putin replied. Afterwards, Charlie and his team were invited to stay and have tea. \"And tea turned into dinner. And the food kept coming in,\" Rose said later. It was just like the state dinner of 200 years ago thrown by the czar for the fictional Horatio Hornblower and his British naval officers. It is a fine career, that of an interviewer. In an instant it was over, when Charlie was accused of sexual abuse, one of a long line of prominent men that went down in 2017. But even if it had it not ended that way, is there not an overall sad component to it? He once stated he had enjoyed a wonderful career by reason of knowing so many newsmakers. Are they really worth knowing? All they do is squabble with one another and collectively make the world a chaotic mess. I'll take the brothers and sisters in my circuit any day.\n\nIn 2015, the Irish comedian Stephen Fry abruptly became quite serious on TV. He charged: \"Why should I respect a mean-spirited, capricious, stupid God who creates a world that is so full of injustice and pain?\" His words did not sit well with a certain person who reported him to the police. Fry discovered that he had run afoul of a blasphemy law that he had not even known existed. It was as though he was an extremist himself, nabbed for embarrassing the church people. The Irish Defamation Act would penalize any person who publishes or utters blasphemous material, and Fry was therefore investigated.12\n\nWhat would Fry say to God face-to-face if he had the chance? a show host asked him on television. He answered: \"I'd say 'Bone cancer in children, what's that about?' How dare you create a world in which there is such misery that is not our fault. It's not right. It's utterly, utterly evil... Because the god who created this universe, if it was created by God, is quite clearly a maniac, an utter maniac, totally selfish.\"\n\nPerhaps the Russian Orthodox Church can answer his complaint. Jehovah's Witnesses can in a heartbeat. It is even a chapter of their basic study book, _What Can the Bible Teach Us_? entitled Why So Much Suffering? an exploration of verses that effectively reason upon and answer the question. Through their unparalleled public ministry, Jehovah's Witnesses make every effort to answer Fry's grievance using the Bible, for surely its pages contain that answer. Dominant churches jealous of their own turf try to run the Witnesses off the road so that they can answer it _their_ way—with defamation laws when \"God works in mysterious ways\" fails to satisfy. It is well that Russian tort lawyers, if they exist, do not understand scripture, for surely it is religious malpractice to interfere with the quest for answers as to why there is suffering.\n\nNonetheless, the \"learned\" ones have not figured it out, is the gist of 'Octavius', so what chance is there that an idiot will? 'You see,' Caecilius explains from the 2nd century, but he might just as well be speaking today, \"all things in human affairs are doubtful, uncertain, and unsettled.\" So it is to be understood that if \"some, from the weariness of thoroughly investigating truth, should rashly succumb to any sort of opinion rather than persevere in exploring it with persistent diligence.\" _He_ represents those who have done \"persistent diligence.\" His uneducated Christian opponents do not.13 He later speaks with admiration of a certain philosopher who, \"the longer his research continued, the obscurer the truth became to him.\" That being so, \"in my opinion also, things which are uncertain ought to be left as they are. Nor, while so many and so great men are deliberating, should we rashly and boldly give an opinion in another direction, lest either a childish superstition should be introduced.\"14\n\nThe reason the great men cannot figure it out is that their wisdom has led them to make a priori assumptions that serve to screen out the true answer when it is presented to them. The ones unindoctrinated need not grapple with these red herrings—frequently they are unaware of them. It really is true that the wisdom of this world is foolishness in God's eyes and that he therefore simply ignores it, giving very clear answers only to whomever is willing to extricate themselves from that quagmire.15\n\nThis explains why Witnesses of Jehovah can barely contain themselves. Fry cries out the question of the ages. There is scarcely a question more important. The great men have either argued in circles or given up. Yet his question should be answered. Jehovah's Witnesses have really put themselves out—they have fairly turned their lives upside down—to bring that answer to him, only to be blocked by 'respectable' religion. It is not a matter of snatching away church members; let them claim him if they can answer his question. Unfortunately, they cannot and they will not. They have boxed themselves in with pre-existing notions and unreasonable doctrines. So they don't try. They take cover instead behind defamation laws. Indeed, several of their doctrines would negate the answer to Fry's question, though biblically the answer be plain as day.\n\nFor example, it is common, upon the death of a young child, for a member of the clergy to explain it with the analogy of how God is picking flowers. It goes something like this: God has a garden; he grows pretty flowers, absolutely the best. But he needs one more. There's one spot that's just not right. Ah! The missing ingredient is your sole flower. He'll pick it. Surely, you'll be happy. What's that? You're not? Who would ever think such an analogy as 'picking flowers' would be comforting? It is monstrous. No wonder people go atheist. Take away the most precious thing a person has simply because you have an opening and expect him to be _comforted_ over that?\n\nThe 'picking flowers' illustration is nowhere found in the Bible. But, just once, the Bible uses an illustration parallel in all respects _except the moral_ , which is _exactly opposite_ from the flower illustration! It takes place after King David, captivated over Uriah's wife, takes her as his own, impregnates her, and silences her husband by having him killed. The passage reads:\n\n\" _The LORD sent Nathan to David, and when he came to him, he said: \"Tell me how you judge this case: In a certain town there were two men, one rich, the other poor. The rich man had flocks and herds in great numbers. But the poor man had nothing at all except one little ewe lamb that he had bought. He nourished her, and she grew up with him and his children. Of what little he had she ate; from his own cup she drank; in his bosom she slept; she was like a daughter to him. Now, a visitor came to the rich man, but he spared his own flocks and herds to prepare a meal for the traveler who had come to him: he took the poor man's ewe lamb and prepared it for the one who had come to him.\" David grew very angry with that man and said to Nathan: \"As the LORD lives, the man who has done this deserves death! He shall make fourfold restitution for the lamb because he has done this and was unsparing. Then Nathan said to David: 'You are the man!'\"_ 16\n\nNow, _this_ analogy is just! The man is not expected to be comforted that the king stole his lamb to impress his visitor. Anyone who's ever recoiled in disgust at the 'picking flowers' analogy is reacting exactly as the Bible says he should! It is the _clergyman_ who is advocating the obscene. The flower picker is not to be praised. He deserves death! Having followed the prophet Nathan's logic, the atheists take the moral high road in this instance and kill God! The condemnation of religion at Revelation 18:24: \"In her was found the blood of...all the ones who have been slaughtered on the earth,\" is not due to her war-stoking record alone. It is not just due to her acts of commission; it is also due to her acts of omission. Such teachers swap Bible truth for junk food, and spiritually starved people forage on evolution and atheism for nourishment.\n\nSince the illustration is slanderous toward God and not found in the Bible, why do so many clergy members use it? The answer is that they have bought into unscriptural and unreasonable doctrines that unfailingly paint them into moral corners. You make a god-awful mess trying to escape from these corners. The unscriptural doctrine here is: 'When we die we don't really die.' That is, there is some component of us, usually called the soul, that lives on. It is immortal. Have you been good? Then death is your friend. You get promoted to heaven, and how can anyone not be happy to see good people promoted? It's a win-win! The trouble is, people don't behave as though it's a win-win. People mourn at funerals, they don't rejoice. They take a long time to readjust. Some never readjust to the death of their child; children are not supposed to die before the parent. Death is not natural. It is not a friend, as most religions would have us believe. It is an enemy.17\n\nReturning to Fry's complaint, note who takes the hit for religious negligence. It is God! Fry rails against God, not clergy persons and not religion! He should rail against the latter, for it is they that fail in their job to explain God. It should not be God who takes the hit. Fry simply assumes—what reasonable person would not?—that if there is an answer to a spiritual question, the self-proclaimed experts will have it. That they do not must mean that an answer does not exist. It does not occur to him that the experts are themselves misled, or in some cases even frauds. God's reputation suffers. Even beyond addressing Fry's righteous gripe, Jehovah's Witnesses ardently want to defend God; after all, that is the function of a witness: to defend one who is accused.\n\nIt is a stretch, but perhaps Fry will one day come across Jehovah's Witnesses and be puzzled at finding that they are in Russia a 'totalitarian sect.' It is too bad for him that they are so maligned. So fundamental are his questions of God and suffering that even if the repugnant word 'totalitarian' was true, he might decide to rethink his objection to it, for it is not as though anyone else in the field of religion has offered anything to satisfy his spiritual thirst. Slandering good people with charges of totalitarianism does not always work. Sometimes the contrast between the accusations and what people can see right before their eyes is too great, and people are drawn to what they might not otherwise have noticed. For some the best motivation to do something is to be told that they cannot do it. Might Fry be one of those people?\n\nHis words were reported to the police by \"a member of the public, who asked not to be identified,\" and who later explained that he (this is too much—it really is) \"had not personally been offended by Fry's comments—I added that I simply believed that the comments made by Fry were criminal blasphemy and that I was doing my civic duty by reporting a crime.\" If the incident mirrors the incidents of many countries, the \"member of the public\" was an infuriated clergyman, maybe even Dvorkin himself, who _was_ personally offended and therefore tried to arrest the one who had insulted him and his profession. In the end, whoever it was did not succeed. Fry was not charged. It was decided to let the law slide because \"no one was hurt.\"\n\nSure, go ahead and slap down Fry, if you must. But also address his complaint. Had his complaint even once been addressed, he might not have launched his TV salvo to begin with. Few pay any attention to the Bible's explanation of suffering because it is Jehovah's Witnesses that offer it. As with most things, it is not what is said that is important. It is who says it. People look to a respectable source to answer such questions, for surely answers should come from someone trained in academia, they assume. \"Wisdom cries aloud in the street, in the open squares she raises her voice,\" says the proverb. 'Nonsense!' the world's movers and shakers respond. 'It cries aloud in the university campuses and quadrangles. Only ignoramuses are to be found on the street.'18\n\nHow a religion can be considered a respectable source while coming up empty-handed on the fundamental questions of life is a question for others to ponder. But popular religion will ever be a reflection of what people honor most, and such fundamental questions, while they may appear on the list of concerns, do not rank as highly as does fitting in with the world's overall aims and thereby enjoying respectability.\n\nJehovah's Witnesses, who, at significant expense and inconvenience, have put themselves out to answer questions like Fry's, should not be impeded. Let's face it—one builds up some 'street cred' through such an unpaid public ministry. There is nothing in it for them. Sure, it can be spun in a derisive manner by persons intent on that aim: that they have a 'need' to validate themselves or a 'need' to be right. But it is better to take it at face value: as doing a good deed. Witnesses understand kingdom preaching as a Christian duty dictated by love of God, for he is the one who gets slammed—and for neighbor, for they are the ones who suffer for it. If you have knowledge, you don't just sit on it. How loving would that be? You light the lamp and put it on a lampstand.\n\nAfter 45 years, I reconnected with an old friend. It was the friend who had ribbed me mercilessly about the United Nations when I had first become a Witness. Jehovah's Witnesses have a unique understanding of that world body—that it is the 'image of the wild beast' of Revelation. The wild beast is the worldwide political system and it has 'breathed life' into the image of the wild beast, which is thereby empowered to govern the entire earth as a single organization, something its individual components have proved unable to do. It represents worldwide government _by man_ instead of worldwide government _by God,_ and thus it finds itself in the crosshairs of biblical interpretation.19\n\nIt is also in its second life. Its first life was as the League of Nations, formed to maintain peace following World War I. The League failed twenty years after its inception, powerless to dissuade factions gearing up for a repeat war, but the concept was resurrected after World War II as the United Nations. Even this resurrection fits in with a Revelation verse: \"The beast that you saw existed once but now exists no longer. It will come up from the abyss...\"20 Watchtower President Nathan Knorr predicted the 'beast's' reappearance at a 1942 convention, while the entire world was for the second time at war.21\n\nThe two diverging views over just who should govern humankind—man or God—split decisively in 1919. The newly formed League was hailed by the National Council of the Churches of Christ in America as \"not a mere political expedient; it is rather the political expression of the kingdom of God on earth.\" Jehovah's Witnesses, their head ones just released from Atlanta prison for alleged violation of the 1918 Espionage and Sedition Act, promptly regrouped and announced at a landmark convention: \"Behold, the King reigns! You are his publicity agents. Therefore advertise, advertise, advertise, the King and his kingdom,\" government by God.22 The contrast could not have been more stark.\n\nNow, I knew the preceding only vaguely at the time, and my friend did not know it at all. His picture of the United Nations had been forged as a child, as had mine. It was the organization that collected money for the eradication of disease. As a child I had carried one of their milk cartons modified to collect coins for just that purpose—what on earth could be wrong with that? My friend harped and harped on it and I finally told him that it was just a footnote, not a big deal, and that he should give it a rest.\n\nThe circuit overseer was to visit our congregation and there was to be a special slide presentation. I invited my friend and gave him to understand that, in view of his giving me nothing but grief about my new faith, if he attended this one meeting I would consider that he had given it a fair shake and would thereafter shut up about it. He came and was shoehorned into a crowded Kingdom Hall. All was going well, and I was happy that he was receiving 'a witness,' but toward the end of the presentation a slide displayed the U.N. building rent in two by a lightning bolt from heaven! an image that I had never seen before and do not think I have seen since. I should have invited the Soviet leaders instead of my friend, for they would have cheered—Russia routinely got shellacked in the Security Council back then, ever outvoted by the pro-West majority. Putin himself (I am playing a bit here) might even have removed and pounded his shoe in appreciation at that Kingdom Hall meeting, just as Khrushchev had done years before at the U.N itself. But I hadn't invited the Soviet leaders. I had invited my friend, and I kept my end of the bargain to witness to him no more, with but occasional relapses—for after all, I am one of Jehovah's Witnesses. Meanwhile, the United Nations continues to function until the world ignores it to embark upon WWIII, but since that has not yet happened, perhaps it must be granted some credit. Every once in a while, I am told, it contacts the Watchtower Society to ask them if they would please drop this 'wild beast spiel.'\n\nAnyhow, I caught up with my friend again after 45 years. He had been a heavy smoker back in the day and he was now dependent upon an oxygen tank, which impeded his mobility. Who was it that said we spend the first third of our lives ensuring that the final third will be miserable? Once long ago I had commented on that delicious aroma of a newly lit cigarette. \"Every puff is like that when you are a smoker,\" he replied. Yet now he crusades to dissuade others from that course.\n\nThe zealots of New York State bombard me with graphic anti-smoking TV ads, as though intent on spoiling my dinner. Visiting with my old friend was more effective. I thanked Jehovah, for it easily could have been me. I easily could have been funneled into it, for it was all the rage once and it is not to my credit that I abstained. The year I was baptized smoking became an offense for which one could be expelled from the congregation. Some had the most difficult struggle quitting. Some didn't quit and ceased association with the religion. Yet seeing my old friend, who had lived a life of both joys and sorrows, knowing it will likely be cut short due to the tobacco—it made me grateful for that firmness. Though Witness detractors today complain about many a freedom-restricting policy, I have never known any to complain of this one, which must have saved countless thousands of lives. Should a safety-conscious world ever focus on Witnesses shunning tobacco, drugs, alcohol abuse and warfare, it might mandate that everyone sign on.\n\nMy friend will die younger than otherwise, most likely. Yet, is it not but fake news that 80 years and then death is all we should expect? Those of this world settle for so little. If Google and Facebook filter out the fake news of the present, why should not Jehovah's Witnesses filter out the fake news of the future? If only the Church would do it. Then Witnesses wouldn't have to. Everlasting life on earth under kingdom rule is the Bible hope. Death in the Adamic system of things is not permanent. \"We do not want you to be ignorant about those who are sleeping in death, so that you may not sorrow as the rest do who have no hope,\" Paul writes.23 'Yes, we do,' the Church says in effect. 'Stay ignorant.'\n\nThe overall church world will not explain about those 'sleeping in death.' They cannot. They have it all backwards and they present death as part of God's plan. They portray it as is a friend, whereas the Bible clearly says it is an enemy and not part of God's plan at all. Live a few decades on a trialsome earth, then (if you are good) get promoted to heaven, they say. It is all wrong. It is all unscriptural. Earth is our _intended_ home, the Bible says. While it is true some end up in heaven, it is a tiny group for a special purpose—to rule with Christ as 'kings over the earth.' How many nations consist of only kings?24 Religion finds the doctrine that all are heaven-bound hard to convey to young skeptics. It makes no sense to them. Why didn't God put them there in the first place if that's where he wanted them? Nor does that hope strike most of them as desirable. They like it here, they point out, or at least they would if humans would stop fouling the nest. What would they ever do with themselves in heaven?\n\nThe ban impedes Russian citizens from getting a straight answer to another one of the greatest mysteries of all time: what happens at death? Is this life all there is? Why does Genesis tell of people living 900 years back in that time? What does that portend? Is it really because they measured time differently, as the Presbyterian pastor told me? If so, why do later generations live just 500 years and later still, 200, eventually dropping to 30 or so during the Dark Ages before a reapplication of sanitation principles found in the Torah bounces lifespans back up to the present 80, like a correction in a plummeting stock market?25\n\nSocial media can induce depression. Regularly this is heard in the West. 'My online friends' lives are so exciting—always they are posting interesting things,' people say, 'but my life is so dull.' Facebook _itself_ is fake news, distorting reality! But even if it did not, even if it relayed the present life accurately, is not this entire world of human devising fake news: ever overpromising and underdelivering? Is not everything outside of spiritual matters fake news? Or at least besides-the-point news. If someone breaks through the fake news to discover the real stuff, as Jehovah's Witnesses think they have done, can anyone think that one will be satisfied with the fake news again?\n\nLiving forever on a paradise earth _sounds_ like a fairy tale. Why expect anyone to waste their time obsessing about that? But it also sounds very good. If the time involved to investigate is substantial or the cost prohibitive, one might expect people to dismiss the notion out of hand. But if the time involved is modest, and the cost is free, some will decide to look into it. They'll appreciate that someone has gone to a lot of trouble in order to bring that message to them; a free home Bible study to the general public is the signature offer of Jehovah's Witnesses.\n\nOnce a person has had the satisfaction of assembling the puzzle pieces that are the Bible, replicating the portrait of the puppy dog or mountain range on the box cover, he is immune to the critic who says he put it together wrong. He is _especially_ immune if that critic's own puzzle lies unassembled in the box on his closet shelf. Afterwards, with puzzle completed, he is even immune when he is cruising down the highway at full throttle, and the critical atheist on the radio tells him his car doesn't run.\n\nThe puzzle cannot be assembled in church. Too many pieces have been altered and they no longer fit together. It was the same in the first century. In an effort to stay popular and contemporary, the establishment tampered with the pieces, to the point where those pieces became fodder for theological rumination, but roadblocks to actual understanding. Though there were plenty of (Jewish) priests back then, it was for the nascent Christianity's Phillip to approach the traveling court official who was reading aloud Isaiah. \"Do you understand what you are reading?\" Philip asked him. \"How can I, unless someone instructs me?\" was the reply.26\n\nThe reconstructed box cover picture is the answer to everything of consequence. God wants us to have it. He wants us to seek and find him. He is \"not far from any one of us.\"27 If you destroy the puzzle pieces, it is hard to assemble anything that makes sense. Witnesses only want to clarify and preserve the pieces so that the puzzle can be put together. They are guardians of doctrine in that regard. It hardly makes them extremist. Rather, it makes them essential.\n\nMost church teachings are not plainly found in the Bible. The attempt to read them in causes people to throw up their hands in despair of ever understanding the book. The Trinity teaching makes God incomprehensible. The hellfire teaching makes him cruel; Isaac Asimov was not off-base when he likened the hellfire teaching to \"the drooling dream of a sadist.\" Both doctrines are components of the fake news of religion that was carted out to the curb 100 years ago by early Watchtower associates acting as 'the messenger preparing the way.' When you 'prepare the way' for any sort of building project, carting out the trash is the first thing you must do. Thereafter you don't obsess over it. You needn't tell Waste Management why the contents of the dumpster must go. Accordingly, Watchtower publications rarely mention the trash these days. They are content to provide a toolbox containing a few specialized brochures and magazines to reason with those outside who yet hold onto the old doctrines. But for congregation members they get on with the essence of Christian living.\n\nChrist went under the water in baptism and so did Christians. When they emerge, it is symbolically as with a new personality. He was nailed to the stake. That's what happened to the old personality of Christians as well. The symbolism helps them with their resolve to continue stripping off the old personality and donning the one that is Christ's. Squabbling over the trash will have a place so long as there are people who think it is really valuable stuff, but the true power of Christianity lies elsewhere. The verses that can be used to refute the Trinity doctrine were not written for that purpose. Reaching for maturity, the Christian explores the purposes for which they were written.28\n\nMany a person brave on the battlefield cowers at the prospect of discussing spiritual things with a visiting Witness. He worries that his choice weapon, \"I never speak of religion or politics,\" may not be enough to drive off the assailer. Deep down inside he may suspect that he probably should care more about spiritual things than he actually does, for he has heard, and it sounds laudable, that 'Man does not live on bread alone.' Perhaps it is even as Mathew 5:3 says: that the ones conscious of their spiritual needs are the ones who will ultimately be happy—for they will seek to fill those needs. All persons have spiritual needs, but they are not necessarily conscious of them, just as they are not necessarily conscious of the need for vitamins. Neglect them at your own peril. One gets sicker and sicker without ever quite knowing why. Strangely, few Bibles are so clear as the New World translation in rendering the expression 'conscious as to spiritual needs.' Most settle for an incomprehensible 'blessed are the poor in spirit,' or 'beggars of the spirit.' If you beg for something, surely you are aware that you need it. Except for the New World Translation, the passage is obscure. Russians will have to ask their relatives across the border to look that verse up for them.\n\nI like the Peter Sellers movie Being There, in which Chauncy very slowly explains to political leaders how one season follows another. They treat him with the greatest deference and assume that he is speaking so slowly so as to allow them to grasp the economic implications of allowing the business cycle to play out. In actuality, he is a mentally challenged man who has difficulty recalling the order of the seasons. The assumptions of the learned are often fake news. The emperor often parades around in invisible clothes and only the children spot it as fake.\n\nIs insistence upon critical thinking, all the rage today, and enjoying a resurgence from the time of Caecilius, among the greatest facilitators of fake news? Criticalthinking.org laments that \"much of our thinking, left to itself, is biased, distorted, partial, uninformed, or downright prejudiced....Excellence in thought, however, must be systematically cultivated.\" The web writer assumes that is possible. He continues: \"Critical thinking is that mode of thinking — about any subject, content, or problem — in which the thinker improves the quality of his or her thinking by skillfully analyzing, assessing, and reconstructing it. Critical thinking is self-directed, self-disciplined, self-monitored, and self-corrective thinking.\" Manifestly, this way of thought appeals to persons who are fond of 'self.' Critical thought \"presupposes assent to rigorous standards of excellence and mindful command of their use. It entails effective communication and problem-solving abilities, as well as a commitment to overcome our native egocentrism and sociocentrism.\"29 Is not the devil in what it \"presupposes?\"\n\nConsider the role critical thinking might have played in a 2009 diplomatic spat between Britain and China. The Chinese authorities had just executed a British citizen for drug trafficking in their country, the first such execution since the 1950s. The British had wanted him spared owing to his diagnosis of bipolar disorder. They'd lobbied hard for that outcome. When it didn't happen, British Prime Minister Brown cried: \"I condemn the execution of Akmal Shaikh in the strongest terms and am appalled and disappointed that our persistent requests for clemency have not been granted....I am particularly concerned that no mental health assessment was undertaken. But China would have none of it. \"Nobody has the right to speak ill of China's judicial sovereignty,\" Chinese Foreign Ministry spokeswoman Jiang Yu said. \"We express our strong dissatisfaction and resolute opposition over the groundless British accusations. We urge the British side to mend its errors and avoid damaging China-British relations.\"30\n\nWhat is dealt with here are differing cultural attitudes towards social policy, criminal conduct, mental illness, personal responsibility, individual rights, and drug use. These are values. Just how does 'critical thinking' sort out the interplay between them? For the most part, the two citizenries lined up with the viewpoints of their respective governments. Was critical thinking only to be found among one or the other population? If so, which one? It was China that played the 'critical thinking' card first. \"We hope that the British side can view this matter rationally,\" Jiang said. Why didn't the Brits think of enshrouding their plea in rationality? Too late now. China beat them to it, and now the British are, by default, irrational.\n\nFor all the brouhaha over critical thinking, pigs will fly before nations give up cherished norms forged over decades, even centuries. Critical thinking has its place. There are some areas where it alone delivers. But it is never the be-all and end-all. Don't let its staunch advocates tell you that they have uncovered the nirvana to establishing truth. They are too quick to presuppose that they are the guardians thereof. From their ranks comes the too-confident person who does not suffer fools gladly—and a fool is anyone with whom he disagrees. His fake news is the most pernicious of all because he takes it as a matter of faith that his method makes him impervious to fakery.\n\nThe experience of unity is a profound draw for Jehovah's Witnesses. It is a profound \"taste and see that God is good.\"31 There are ever so many Witness opponents online—and many of them once were Jehovah's Witnesses themselves. Judging from what they write, it is safe to say that they would not be able to tolerate one another outside of the Internet, where they have united for common cause. They can and doubtless do snipe at each other endlessly on other venues, perhaps over Trump/Hillary, or God/no God, or global warming/global denying, or medicine/alt medicine. They should embrace the world they have collectively chosen. When they see mayhem on TV—embrace it, it is theirs. They once had unity. There were once able to sacrifice some petty freedoms in order to grasp significant ones. But now it is the petty they cherish. It is the 'Dreamers' who dream only of where they can suffer the fewest people telling them what to do and where they can make the most money.\n\nWhen critical thinking is turned upon the Bible itself, the book promptly disintegrates. The reason Jehovah's Witnesses can look at the Bible as they do is because they have 'tasted and seen that the LORD is good.' It is the heart molded by experience and focused effort. But if you hail from the world of criticism, you cannot conceive of unity. You have never seen it. Leave these people to their own devices and there is no Bible book written as presented. Every one of them is a hash of conflicting writers with warring agendas. It is the only reality such scholars have ever experienced, and it colors all their scholarship. Assumptions matter. The course of justice is altered when \"innocent until proven guilty\" becomes \"guilty until proven innocent.\" One can demonstrate that the Bible is reasonable, but one cannot prove it. Nor can one prove the opposite. Primarily, it is 'taste and see.' In mile-high Denver, Colorado, people believe in floods. They believe in them in New Orleans, too, below sea level, but the quality of their belief differs, for _they_ have 'tasted and seen' floods.\n\nCritical thinkers who have not seen unity, save in tyrannical settings, assume it does not exist. Their world is one of critical argument. Their vehemence in argument is emblematic of why it does not work. No attempt is made to relate to the other side. The intent is only to demolish it. Sometimes I worry that their cherished evolution is true and that they are the final product of it. If so, kiss any prospects of getting along goodbye. The trouble with critical thinking is that its proponents invariably assume that they have a lock on the stuff and that, consequently, their role is to correct others.\n\nSome years back I conversed with one of these fellows at his door. He insisted that I define all my terms, interrupting me frequently to that end. If I said \"religion,\" for example, he said \"define religion.\" If I said \"God,\" he said \"define God.\" If I said \"system,\" he said \"define system.\" This happened four or five times and, in an effort to break the mood, find common ground, and simply be pleasant, I commented upon his steep driveway—that it must make for challenging driving in the winter. He corrected me! He had planned it at exactly the right pitch and composition and alignment toward the sun, so that, on days the sun appeared, ice would melt before he had to traverse it. \"He even argued about his driveway!\" my dumbfounded companion said, as we walked down it.\n\nJesus cares little about the head, and Jehovah's Witnesses are not especially 'heady.' For every appeal Jesus makes to the mind, he makes ten to the heart, spinning parables that he rarely explains. Even when he offers explanation, it is not such that it would satisfy the critical thinkers. Perhaps he does it so that the latter, too impressed with their own wisdom and demands for proof, will argue themselves right off the deck of the ship before it reaches its destination. Says the Lord: \"This is why I speak to them in parables, because \"they look but do not see and hear but do not listen or understand.\" Isaiah's prophecy is fulfilled in them, which says: \"You shall indeed hear but not understand, you shall indeed look but never see. Gross is the heart of this people, they will hardly hear with their ears, they have closed their eyes, lest they see with their eyes and hear with their ears and understand with their heart and be converted, and I heal them.\"32\n\nCherished methods of argumentation are not the Christian priority. Jesus freely utilizes hyperbole, a device which may so frustrate the critical thinker that he is apt to label it simply an untruth. So be it. In his own way, he is as rigid as is the fundamentalist who would take the expression 'crocodile tears' to mean that (I am exaggerating here just a bit) crocodiles are the topic of concern. Of course, one must strive to make sense, for \"Paul joined them, and for three Sabbaths he entered into discussions with them from the scriptures, expounding and demonstrating that the Messiah had to suffer and rise from the dead, and that 'This is the Messiah, Jesus, whom I proclaim to you.'\" One must be like the Beroeans and check that all things told really can be established.33 But one needn't feel constrained to follow the rules of a world that worships critical thinking, since it sometimes is their first rule that you can't move any of your pieces. If they shriek that you have raised a strawman, point out that Jesus wants men of all sorts to be saved—even straw men. There's nothing wrong with strawmen. They are used in the Bible frequently. They are a fine rhetorical means of telling an unreasonable person: 'Your point is too silly to merit a serious response,' just as in the Star Trek episode wherein Mr. Spock promises to give Dr. McCoy's suggestion all the attention it merits. He pauses a split second, then proceeds with his business.\n\nThe mind does not run the show. Judging from how seldom Jesus appeals to it as opposed to the heart, it never did. It is the heart that decides what it wants. It then employs the mind to cloak around its desire a veneer of respectable rationality, if such can be arranged. If it cannot, the heart just makes a grab for what it wants and charges the head to devise a rationale whenever it gets around to it.\n\nCritical thinking cannot save us. Many things today are, for all practical purposes, unknowable, with endless permutations that can be spun in endless ways, often deliberately, by ones of vested interests who wish to muddy the waters. One must look to the heart for guidance and even leadership. The head will catch up in time. Max Planck the physicist, surely one who appreciated critical thinking, observed: \"A new scientific truth does not triumph by convincing its opponents and making them see the light, but rather because its opponents eventually die, and a new generation grows up that is familiar with it.\" Even that statement presupposes that the new truths accepted after a generation truly are truths. It is not inevitable that they are. They are sometimes the mountains and hills that crumble just when you must lean upon them the most.\n\nThere is increasing concern that most current published research findings are false, says John P. A. Ioannidis in an abstract to a study examining the topic. \"Simulations show that for most study designs and settings, it is more likely for a research claim to be false than true. Moreover, for many current scientific fields, claimed research findings may often be simply accurate measures of the prevailing bias.\"34 Dr. Richard Horton, editor-in-chief of the Lancet, adds: \"The case against science is straightforward: much of the scientific literature, perhaps half, may simply be untrue. Afflicted by studies with small sample sizes, tiny effects, invalid exploratory analyses, and flagrant conflicts of interest, together with an obsession for pursuing fashionable trends of dubious importance, science has taken a turn towards darkness.\"35 Dr. Marcia Angell writes similarly: \"It is simply no longer possible to believe much of the clinical research that is published, or to rely on the judgment of trusted physicians or authoritative medical guidelines. I take no pleasure in this conclusion, which I reached slowly and reluctantly over my two decades as an editor of the New England Journal of Medicine.\"36\n\nThe devotees of reason toil away at their favorite model and do not notice when their tools are hijacked by sinister forces. Sometimes it is ego. Other times it is money. The majority team gets the ball, tilts the field against the minority team, and may even seek to obliterate them. Many things established have been established by decree. Many things proven have been proven by ignoring evidence to the contrary. \"It is difficult to get a man to understand something, when his salary depends on his not understanding it,\" stated Upton Sinclair. A foremost observation of critical thinking ought to be that we are not very good at it.\n\nCritical thinking is a tool only as good as those who would wield it. The typical person has much on his plate and cannot be expected to uncover the ruses. He is safeguarded only when he assumes that 'science,' like everything else in this world, is contaminated. It is frequently enough trumped by money or politics that it must be never be taken as an absolute. It's great stuff, science is. Pour me a double-shot of it. But it must not be relied upon as the primary means of establishing truth. One need not be overly concerned over the latest decree of contemporary science. Sometimes it changes. Even though it be a tsunami. it reverses course and goes right back into the hole from which it came.\n\nThe greater world recommends attaining wisdom. So, too, does the Bible. But the two brands are not the same. In some respects, they are polar opposites. \"The wisdom from above is first of all pure, then peaceable, gentle, compliant, full of mercy and good fruits,\" says the Bible.36 'Peaceful and gentle?' The world would say no. 'Compliant?' It is a quality inviting contempt. 'Full of mercy and good fruits?' No. It goes where it goes and takes umbrage should anyone impose upon it standards of good or bad. The two brands are not the same. Either the wisdom of the Bible is foolish, or the wisdom of this world is.\n\nIs this why those who accept the Bible as presented by Jehovah's Witnesses do so in the first place? They conclude that the Bible's wisdom is better. Upon investigation, they see the diverse pieces come together to reveal the vista on the box cover. They taste and see that Jehovah is good. The latter has nothing to do with critical thinking, the former only marginally so. The critical thinker would first analyze the pieces in close detail, find blemishes in each, and thereby throw them all away.\n\nAnyone reading through the Old Testament cannot but help pick up the refrain, the rundown of God's dealing with Israel: \"I let my people get beat up because they were too bad for too long. But then the nations said: 'Look! God cannot protect his own people!' So I beat them up too. And I brought my own people back just to show them.\" It is no more complicated than that with the great God of all creation? No. It is not. Sometimes we can overthink things. Though his wisdom surpasses all understanding and we can see only the fringe of his ways, when he chooses to relate to humans, he is breathtaking in his pedestrian common sense. He is not ashamed of it. He glorifies it.38\n\nChapter 15 endnotes\n\nReturn to Table of Contents\n\n# Chapter 15 – Life\n\nI came across a person through reading who spent all his time playing Second Life.1 It is a popular online game in which a player, represented by an avatar, interacts with other players who are represented by their avatars. There are hundreds of thousands of players of this game, and together they make up an online world, which they may occupy more than the real world. You can do everything in Second Life that you can in the real world, and a lot more, since you are unrestrained by inconveniences as family responsibilities, financial hardship, health or age infirmities, physical distance, or social inhibition. It is a dinosaur of a game in digital life—its heyday is past—but it is still played by many.\n\nThe man featured in the article I read was almost sixty years old. He discovered Second Life while recuperating from surgery. He plays it virtually every waking moment—as many as fourteen hours a day, said the article—pausing only for bathroom breaks. His avatar is a twenty-something muscular hunk, a vicarious representation of his actual sixty-year-old self. He develops shopping malls and creates designer clothes (in real life, the sixty-year-old works at a help desk). He is idolized by all his employees and when he logs on after a long absence, his workers all welcome him back and earnestly inquire as to his health. (I haven't yet figured out why anyone would play Second Life and be an employee rather than a boss.) He has an online wife, a pretty avatar he met some time ago. They set up house, they work together, shop together, and do everything a married couple might be expected to do. In real life, he's never met the woman and has no intention of doing so. In Second Life, they are inseparable.\n\nNow, this fellow has a wife in the real world, and she's not happy. \"Leave this loser,\" her kids urge her. It is the second marriage for both of them. But she sticks with her man, if he can really be called hers. He is a good man at heart, she maintains, who has been sucked into an online addiction. Someday he will wake to find he has squandered his whole life in a make-believe world. She brings him breakfast while he's tapping away at the keyboard. Hours later she returns. \"You didn't touch your breakfast,\" she says. \"Oh, sorry. I didn't notice it.\" (This writer's wife would dump his breakfast over his head at this point.)\n\nImagine—an online world so engrossing that some prefer it to the real world! Next to Second Life, Risk and Monopoly are mere—well, board games. Yet without too great a leap in creative thinking, one may view _this_ life as though it were a second life, which would relegate the online Second Life to Third Life. For the Bible makes clear that this life is not the \"true\" life. Sickness and death are not part of God's purpose for humankind. Rather, everlasting life is. An earth brought close to ruin by human activity is likewise not his purpose; a paradise earth, much like the Eden of Genesis, which literally means 'garden,' or 'paradise,' is. Neither is happiness marred by evil and suffering part of God's purpose, but instead unsullied life under Kingdom rule is. We limp along as best we can in this system of things. Some find success and overcome obstacles better than others, but in the end, there is little difference between us. A mere few decades pass and all of us are senile and in diapers, en route to the grave. That is why Paul encouraged Timothy to: \"Tell the rich in the present age not to be proud and not to rely on so uncertain a thing as wealth but rather on God, who richly provides us with all things for our enjoyment. Tell them to do good, to be rich in good works, to be generous, ready to share, thus accumulating as treasure a good foundation for the future, so as to win the life that is true life.\"2\n\nHow meaningful can life be in a system where ISIS, dementia, cancer, or simple human greed can snuff it out in a second? \"Sayonara!\" your longtime employer sings out, as he packs up for overseas. \"Dust off that resume, why don't you? And those family and financial obligations you have? Fugedaboudit!\" It is as Solomon says: He has seen footmen on horses and princes slogging through the mud. It is certainly possible to get satisfaction from life today, and most have to some degree. But many find it is like chomping down hard on cotton candy. Though it looked substantial, they ultimately find that there was never much there.\n\nHow short-sighted to throw off restraint and run to a place where no one can tell you what to do. There is nothing to stop one from doing so, but it's a poor trade-off over the 'restrictions' of a godly life, which amount to little more than guardrails on a treacherous highway. Manipulation through human scheming in the form of Big Government, Big Business or contemporary philosophy ultimately take a toll far greater than any restrictions of the Christian life.\n\nThere is some basis in viewing this life, uncertain in every aspect except its ultimate end, as a Second Life, and your real self as an avatar—and perhaps some advantage. The joys of this life one can experience fully, if the character of our article is any guide. But the hardships that this life throws at you, things not within your power to fix, you may be better able to handle with an \"aw hell, it's just an avatar\" attitude, which will be good for mental health. Like any board game or online game, this life comes to an end. You may have hotels on every square or you may go directly to jail—'Do not pass Go'—but the game does end decisively for all. The true life, however, does not. Jehovah's Witnesses live as happily as they can manage in this life. But it is the true life to which they look forward.\n\nThey asked popular author and futurist Robert Jastrow about living forever, and specifically, whether that would that be a blessing or a curse? He said that it all depends: \"It would be a blessing to those who have curious minds and an endless appetite for learning. The thought that they have forever to absorb knowledge would be very comforting for them. But for others who feel they have learned all there is to learn and whose minds are closed, it would be a dreadful curse. They'd have no way to fill their time.\"\n\nDr. Jastrow is a thinker, and so he focused on learning. There is an apocryphal story about a Witness chancing upon him in the ministry, observing that he is quoted in the book _Life - How did it Get Here? By Creation or Evolution_ , and placing a copy of it with him on that basis. But things besides knowledge are boundless, too, such as our capacity to create and our capacity to love.\n\nOver the last forty years or so, however, pop culture has been selling death as though it were a benefit. It is probably the atheists. They are increasing in number and buying into their thinking means settling for a final death sentence perhaps not too many years away. Pay attention and you will see the 'death is beautiful' notion a lot. For example, it surfaced in a Dr. Who episode entitled: The Lazarus Experiment.\n\nThe episode name itself is a giveaway, because Lazarus is a biblical character resurrected by Jesus, related in the eleventh chapter of John. The television Lazarus has invented a machine to make him youthful again; he steps in old and he walks out young, to the amazement of the high-brow folk invited to his gala bash. But Dr. Who, who must have crashed the party, smells something amiss. He follows the newly minted youngster, and sure enough, the machine has malfunctioned and doomed Lazarus to transforming back and forth from human to monster! (They like monsters on that show.) See, in setting back his DNA, the machine has selected ancient mutations long-ago rejected by evolution, and the result is instability. (Hmmm...yes...indeed, plausible, nod all the atheists watching the show, whereas if you mentioned anything about God, they'd throw up).\n\nDr. Who, a 'time lord,' lectures Lazarus before the show is done on what a curse everlasting life really is, and what a foolish, greedy thing it was for him to reach out for it. For when life drags on forever and ever and ever, you will get so tired of it. You will have been everywhere, done everything. Living will have become an endless, pointless trek to nowhere. You will long for it to end, but (fool that you were for choosing everlasting life) it will not end but will go on and on and on. Oh, the monotony! See, without death, it is impossible to savor life—and so forth.\n\nPlease. Spare me and Dr. Jastrow. This is atheist tripe. It all depends upon whether you see life as futile or not. If you do, then sure, you would want it to end. But as Dr. Jastrow stated, life is only futile if you have made it so. Of course, baked into this system of things are various ingredients to encourage that view—for example, old age and frailty, but if they could be vanquished, a much different longing would emerge.\n\nA prime attraction of Rochester, New York, where this writer has resided, is the George Eastman House. Mr. Eastman, who invented photography for the masses and who founded the Eastman Kodak Company, turned philanthropist once he had made his fortune, and built half the city; testimony to his generosity is everywhere. His mansion on East Avenue showcases his life, his inventions, his contributions to society, and serves as the nucleus for all things photographic right up to the present. When he decided the center lounge area of his domicile was too small, he had the house cut in two, rolled apart, and a fine new addition built to link them again. Does his determination emerge from this picture? He was unstoppable. But research thoroughly and you will discover that he shot himself in the head at age 78. In the throes of old age, his health failing, one by one he saw his friends going senile, bedridden or wheelchair-bound. He left behind a note: \"To my friends: My work is done. Why wait?\"3\n\nQ: Why did George Eastman take his life?\n\nA) His work was done. Why wait?\n\nB) He longed for the blessed release of death to finally end a futile life that had dragged on and on for far too long.\n\nC) His health was failing and he, a lifelong bachelor, dreaded the indignities of old age with its dependence upon others.\n\nDoes anybody honestly think that, with health and youth, George Eastman would not have found more work in which to engross himself? Surely, he would not have longed for life to end. In this, Mr. Eastman is much like Leonardo da Vinci, the man who painted one of the most enduring portraits of all time—the Mona Lisa. Leonardo made his mark not only as an artist. He also contributed hugely in areas as diverse as geometry, anatomy, astronomy, architecture, and flight. Some of his sketches have been used as blueprints for devices in use today. He was a 'Renaissance man'—his life embodies the term. Yet toward the end of his life, he reportedly sought God's forgiveness for not using all the resources of his spirit and art.\n\nEastman and da Vinci: two men that typify Dr. Jastrow's statement. And they would be joined by just about everyone else, were we not sucked into a morass of drudgery, duty, debt, injustice and hardship. Sure, you might well long for death if you can envision only more of that. The same goes for the frailness that comes with old age. When I attended a funeral of an older friend who had been happy, content, and productive throughout life, his widow nonetheless assured me that he was quite ready to die, since he'd grown \"so tired of being sick.\"\n\nFaced with the skyrocketing cost of a medical regimen, equal to her entire fixed income, one person reported on in the American Association of Retired Persons publication laments that: \"I'm faced with some hard decisions about whether to stay on the drug. I still have a lot of things I want to do with my life.\" One is tempted to ask: At one point will she say: \"Okay, I've done it all. Death can come any time, now.\" I think she will never say it unless and until she finally acknowledges that the scoundrels have outmaneuvered her. The hucksters are having a field day with her, gleefully seizing upon missteps to further subjugate her in some way. The doctors are sucking her dry of resources, yet she is not getting better. The young people who ought to thank her as a font of wisdom have been sold a bill of goods by self-serving interests and wonder when the old fogey will finally move on. The politicians have continually made her promises that have not panned out.\n\nIt is not always pricey drugs. The U.S. is unique in the hardship it imposes over healthcare, but there is always some problematic thing, and often it is more onerous than missing out on a drug. But if the villains of life did not, at some point, succeed in their relentless attack, the woman would never reach the point of saying 'that's enough.' She would always be up for more delicious life. That is why the Bible's promise of everlasting life on a paradise earth is so appealing. It is Robert Jastrow's dream come true: unlimited time to grow, minus the very real liabilities that eventually cause most of us to tire of life. Perfect health is promised, and an economic system will be in place so that people do not feel they are toiling for nothing. Isaiah describes life under God's kingdom rule, illustrating the prayer \"thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.\" \"They shall build houses and live in them, they shall plant vineyards and eat their fruit; They shall not build and others live there; they shall not plant and others eat. As the years of a tree, so the years of my people; and my chosen ones shall long enjoy the work of their hands. They shall not toil in vain, nor beget children for sudden destruction; For they shall be a people blessed by the LORD and their descendants with them.\"4\n\nMany things I would like to do. I have done a few of them. But for the most part, I have merely scratched the surface. I've spent a fair amount of time battling the iniquities of life while not accomplishing much at all. Everlasting life, should I find myself there, will not be a bad thing. Not at all. It will be a good thing.\n\nWhen the world embraces atheism, many paradigms shift. All concept of waiting for God to work out his will vanishes. What counts is the here and now. Tribulation that Revelation calls 'ten days' becomes 'forever.'5 Even the perception of congregation discipline changes. Expulsion from the congregation for unrequited unchristian conduct becomes a permanent 'breaking up of families.' To the Christian, expulsion is the ultimate trump card of discipline which may move the one so chastised thereby to mend his ways and return to the fold--for the door that was closed was never locked. The trek towards everlasting life can resume. In going atheist, however, the departing one no longer worries about living forever on earth or anywhere else. He or she has gone atheistic and has reconstrued the remaining few decades as a great bargain, with no sense of being cheated from all eternity. Sigh—if they believe it, they believe it. But it hardly seems something to celebrate. Is it not a little like the fellow who loses millions in the stock market? Undeterred, he celebrates the five thousand dollars he still has left and says: 'Well, they were only paper gains anyway.' If the fellow has come to view life that way after being expelled from the congregation, his exile has become in his eyes something from which he will not return. It has become permanent.\n\nThere are many swirls and back eddies. Certainly, one can find flaws in the visible Christian organization. Some persons have been heavy-handed. Some have blundered. But the overall flow of events is in accord with what Jehovah's Witnesses have long said. The visibility of the kingdom message expands. World conditions worsen. Not all the ducks are lined up. There are yet a few stragglers. The fat lady has not yet sung. But she is clearing her throat. It is time to mend fences for anyone who has left. Everyone knows a large project needs organization, which requires leadership, and with leadership a given policy or decision can go against you. It is good not to hold on to resentment.\n\nThe older generation of the West will sometimes paint the younger as spoiled brats—overprivileged babies who lack appreciation and do little but whine. The Witness organization does not feel that way about any who have left. You never blame the younger generation for problems encountered growing up in the soil you supplied. Had you not let outside scoundrels contaminate the soil or even tainted it yourself it might not have happened. Says a tweet from a self-described \"resident scholar\" at the American Institute and former philosophy teacher: \"Dear kids: I'm a Baby Boomer. We are getting old. But at least we had sex, drugs and rock & roll. Seems like millennials have moral panics, workshops, and grievance circles.\" Does not the first largely explain the second? One is supposed to pass on values that the young can build upon. What is her advice? \"Time to rebel!\"6 Witness parents sought to shield their kids from such influences. Some pulled too hard in the opposite direction. Some simply found the allure of those things to their offspring too great to countermand.\n\nThere is a public talk on the Watchtower's revolving list of talk outlines entitled: 'Acquiring a Heart of Wisdom.' It is a challenging talk to give and not all speakers handle it well, for it involves exposing the flaws of faithful persons, past and present, and not all speakers are comfortable doing that. Past is okay, but not so much the present. Back in the day, when I would give the talk myself, I used to lead off with the by-now-trite illustration of how treasure-seekers dig through the dirt to find the tiniest speck of diamonds and how foolish it would be to reverse the process—dig through the diamonds to find the tiniest speck of dirt. Nevertheless, I stated, we would be doing exactly that for the next 45 minutes. With any time in the faith, you are going to come across some dirt, and if you are not prepared, you will be floored, for it is the one place you did not expect to find any.\n\nHaving set those ground rules, I then reveled in tearing things apart for the talk's duration, dredging up wrongs from both the Hebrew and Greek scriptures. I hit my stride with the second and third chapters of Revelation, considering absolute basket cases of congregations, in which were found every sort of nasty deed (read the chapters yourself), and yet they were still congregations. The point is, if wrong things happened then, one needn't be shocked if they have happened today. The trick is not to sanitize the present. It is to de-sanitize the past. It is to say: \"Look at those outrageous characters back then! Yet somehow God managed to pull a rabbit out of the hat even with them carrying on as they did.\"\n\nRussia has been lately dealing with an avalanche of accusations—from meddling in Western democratic process, to invading foreign states, to cheating in the Olympics. It is a non-stop hate campaign of absurd charges, fumes Robert Bridge, the RT.com correspondent. He warns that the bear may only take it for so long before it responds with a bite, not just a growl.7 I know it when I see it—non-stop hate and absurd charges. We experience it ourselves. If only the kings could get along Jehovah's Witnesses might not get caught in the cross-fire between them. Actually, that was my response from the sole pedophile Russian mention, that tweet from the Embassy relaying a defamatory headline. I replied: \"One would think that a country that roundly condemns slander directed against it would not so immediately swallow it when it is directed at someone else.\"\n\nThree times in the modern age has Russia saved the day, averting nuclear war: Arkhipov, Petrov, and Khrushchev via letter to Kennedy. The bear growls that the U.S. bombs more countries than Russia, and yet the bear is painted as the aggressor. The bear growls that Western profit-driven corporations, not it, stir up major mayhem in an unending quest to expand markets. The bear growls and even yipes that its athletes alone are expelled from the Olympics. Who cannot feel for Russia?\n\nThen, just at reaching that moment of sympathy, it does something to suggest it is all true and then some, that perhaps what is visible is but the tip of the iceberg. You can't just confiscate foreign-owned property worth millions—just take it—without shooting yourself in the foot image-wise. You cannot just ban a Bible—a perfectly viable Bible and everyone knows it—without suggesting that you are a nation of goons. You can't rely upon a high school math teacher scribbling verbiage off the Internet as your expert witness without suggesting that you don't really have anyone who knows anything over there. You can't chase and harass and bully people known the world over as perfectly respectable without painting yourself a nation of thugs. Why shoot oneself in the foot that way? Jehovah's Witnesses may strike some as annoying—more people would say yes than no to that—but extremist? Everybody knows what extremism is and they know that Jehovah's Witnesses are not it. Come now. It is a pretty dull life you live if they fulfill your definition of extremism.\n\nGod lays \"Jerusalem a heavy stone for all peoples\" down and Russia picks it up. The prophetic reference is to the 'New Jerusalem' of Revelation 21 that descends from heaven to rule, the anti-type of another Jerusalem of long ago. It is a heavy stone. The nations and their advocates want human efforts to work. The want optimistic reassurance. They want to be told that success is at hand, or at least within reach. They don't want Bible people coming around to tell them it is all for naught and that only God's kingdom will deliver. What a tiresome heavy stone that is.\n\nNevertheless, \"all who attempt to lift it will injure themselves badly, though all the nations of the earth will gather against it.\" Russia is among those first to try, and it takes hits to its reputation. It makes no sense. A great country is shoved around by anti-cult zealots. It is maneuvered into harassing a perfectly harmless people. It is sad to behold. People are not always deterred by slanderous reports. Sometimes they are drawn. \"It makes no sense to slam the Witnesses,\" some will say, \"they're nice people.\"8\n\nRussia bans a Bible that everyone knows is a Bible. It confiscates a property, and everyone knows it is theft. Someone will be the new occupants of the Witness Administrative Center. Will they be smitten with hemorrhoids, as happened long ago when another treasure was taken from its rightful owners and given to strangers? It is what happened when the Philistines hijacked the ark. Well—I wouldn't hold my breath. The ark is hardly the same as the Branch building, but one can always imagine. The one conceivably valid reason for banning the New World Translation in Russia (I thought) is that it employs the word \"piles.\" What in the world are piles? It is in no other translation that I can see. It is hardly that the New World Translation avoids unpleasantries elsewhere—the translation favors the literal. It was not easy to fathom. The revised New American Bible, employed for this book, says God smote them with \"tumours.\" The King James Version says \"emerods.\" Darby says \"hemorrhoids.\" The old Wycliffe Bible removes all doubt: \"Forsooth the hand of the LORD was made grievous upon [the] men of Ashdod, and he destroyed them, and he smote Ashdod and the coasts thereof in the privier part of [the] buttocks/in the more privy part of their tail ends.\" Alas, the last laugh is on me, for it turns out that piles is a colloquial term for hemorrhoids and I was simply not aware of it.9\n\nWish Dennis Christensen well, the first Witness jailed post-ban, a Danish citizen in jail for close to a year and trial may just be finally getting underway, if nothing else intervenes. The Ministry of Justice insists he is a dangerous criminal. He is indignant to clear his name. Can the government truly pass him off as an extremist? He—the carpenter who built a playground for the children and cleaned up the park? Wasn't there another carpenter of long ago who also ran afoul of the government? His _profession_ is even the same. His _name_ is even similar! It's a good thing Witnesses no longer do types and anti-types because somebody would find latching on to this one irresistible. Pray that his God is with him as he squares off against Goliath. Pray that he downs the brute as David did his. He even must do it as did David, with limited armor. The court restricted the time his attorneys could spend reviewing the materials for his criminal case.10\n\nIt is common for politicians in the West to accuse their adversaries of launching fake news, even denouncing them as 'hit jobs.' They should view a certain video report on RT.com to see how it is done. Albeit that it has a point of view, RT.com seems to me an overall credible source, capable of fine journalism when it puts its mind to it. But it plainly did not put its mind to it on this occasion.\n\nThe three-minute 2009 video clip is entitled 'Jehovah and Out' and the host is interviewing Audrey Zolovov of Russia Profile Magazine.11 The host asks why Jehovah's Witnesses are targeted for possible ban because, after all, Russia is \"pretty tolerant toward religion, isn't it? I mean, the Hare Krisnas are operating on the streets of Moscow\" and his guest says that 'Well, he doesn't really know.' He agrees with the host that Witnesses are \"annoying,\" but also agrees that should hardly suffice as a reason. They do oppose blood transfusions, and that is very bad, but many fringe sects have similar disagreeable drawbacks. Maybe it is because they have a \"very good organization.\" After all, they are a \"worldwide phenomenon,\" he opines, as though expounding upon motive at a crime scene. He gives an example: several years ago, his wife went to a manicurist and he thinks that the manicurist must have been a \"very important asset for that group because she had this captive audience for 40 minutes or so, while she was telling them about their religion. Of course, my wife stopped going to that manicurist as soon as she found out that she is being preached.\" Of course! What loyal citizen would not?\n\nIs it possible that RT.com can celebrate grownups behaving as such babies? Even if the Witness woman was tactless, something which is not alleged, an adult learns over time that there are many of such people encountered in life, and that you can handle them by making polite banter and if they become overly insistent, by telling them to shut up. You don't send your husband to RT.com where he can relate how you escaped, only by the skin of your teeth, from an encounter with a scary monster like the one that would devour Caleb and Sophia. The Witnesses not only spoke to his wife while she was \"captive,\" but they also do \"lots of these things.\" As though conscious that his own complaint is silly, he further explains that the Witnesses have \"a very very bad image, both in the media and among the public in general.\"\n\nIn seeming determination to further that \"very very bad image\" and even add another \"very\" to it, the conversation takes place against a backdrop of crazies doing the most whacky things—bizarre cultish rites, pugilistic bare-chested fighting scenes, children in lock-step: very very weird scenes that have _nothing whatsoever to do with the interview_. Nor do they have anything to do with Jehovah's Witnesses, as their most virulent critics, indeed, anyone who knows anything about them, will instantly attest. Will RT.com really treat its audience with such contempt? Are they working to cultivate stupidity among ones they seem to regard as a herd for them to direct? Or did they give no pre-thought to it? Is it an anomaly, and the producer merely said to an underling: \"Hey, we're doing a story on the Jehovah's Witnesses. Run down to the lunatic bin in the storeroom and fetch some footage for me. Anything will do.\" And will the Russian government outlet really treat the _name of God_ with such contempt: \"Jehovah and Out,\" as in \"Over and out?\"\n\nThe temptation for the writer based in the West is to paint Putin as the villain behind the scenes: the instigator of the Witness persecution. To the extent one thinks of Harry Truman's utterance, \"The buck stops here,\" that should be understandable. But let us not go there. There is nothing to paint Putin the mastermind. It is always a challenge to get the attention of the one at the top, for he has much to occupy his time. The Persian King Ahasuerus was set up to preside over the Jews' annihilation, buying into the slander that they were a menace. It was for Queen Esther to show him the evil scheme that was underfoot.12\n\nMost likely Putin is like Pilate, who knew Jesus was innocent but also wanted to placate the religious powers-that-be, if for nothing else than to keep them out of his hair. It is a bad sign for Witnesses that Putin hails from a communist background that has no use for religion, let alone one that is unconventional. But it is a good sign that he is a man of unpretentious upbringing. As a young man, he knocked at the door of KBG Recruiting, an unlikely means of entrance, and thereafter worked his way up through the ranks. He spent his early years \"working in a gloomy office filled with aging staffers,\" where he was \"pushing papers at work and still living at home with his parents without a room of his own.\"13 Like a Governing Body member himself, he did not start at the top. He started at the bottom.\n\nThere may be a partial flattening of the anti-cult wave on which Mr. Dvorkin surfs. On the occasion of the 70th anniversary of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, France was questioned over its sponsorship of the NGO European Federation of Centers of Research and Information on Cults and Sects (FECRIS), as that NGO \"has benefitted from abusive grants that they have used to disseminate hate speech targeting some minority religious groups in the countries of the European Union and beyond.\" The occasion was a side event to the Universal Periodic Review of France in Geneva (January 15th, 2018) where several NGOs and an international law expert called upon President Emmanuel Macron and his Prime Minister to revise the financing of the NGO that sends a clear \"open hunting season\" on religious minorities.14 It is the same NGO whose role in the Witness ban was discussed in chapter 3. Alexander Dvorkin was cited by these human rights people as a prime instigator of abuse in Russia. In addition to \"the ban of Jehovah's Witnesses and peaceful apolitical Muslim movements as well as the imprisonment of several Scientologists [that are] part of this religious purification strategy,\" he \"enjoys disseminating inflammatory narratives and hate speech. Last year, in the capital city of India, Hindus held a demonstration outside the Russian embassy to protest against the persecution of their religion and burnt an effigy of Dvorkin.\"\n\nShould France, which Mr. Eric Roux of the European Interreligious Forum for Religious Freedom (EIFRF) called \"the cradle of human rights\" really be sponsoring NGOs that would so blatantly violate those rights with regard to religious minorities? Surely such hate sends a signal so that \"other countries in the world may think that it is therefore legitimate to follow suit and they usually do worse.\" FECRIS is simply a hate group itself, in that it targets \"any religious minority or spiritual movement not 'usually considered a religion' and view[s] the conversion to such beliefs as a psychological subjection, a 'capture of souls' and a violation of human dignity,\" says the law expert Patricia Duval. Its modus operandi is to \"view the conversion to such beliefs as a psychological subjection, a 'capture of souls' and a violation of human dignity, collect testimonies of families or parents of converts to new religious movements who disagree with their choice to accuse such groups of destroying families, [and] compile data based on rumors, prejudices and suspicion that they use to stigmatize the concerned groups.\"\n\nLook, it might be okay for Stalin to carry on in this way, but _2018 France?_ Mr. Thierry Valle, representing the French NGO Coordination des Associations et des Individus pour la Liberté de Conscience, urged France to stop sponsoring this sort of activit[y],\" noting \"the human consequences which are often dramatic for the members of these minorities.\" All these other groups mentioned: Evangelicals, Pentecostals, Baptists, Adventists, the Salvation Army, Mormons, Falun Gong practitioners, Scientologists, Muslums and Hindus—we disagree with them all, and they with us. But we would compete with them in the marketplace of ideas, not attempt to eliminate them with harassment or bans. If there is any eliminating to be done, let God do it, not any human organization. If the dominant religious status quo Dvorkin is so zealous to protect actually addressed the serious questions of life, none of these groups, Jehovah's Witnesses included, would succeed in gaining a foothold. Will this be another occasion in which the biblical 'earth' comes to the rescue of the biblical 'woman?'\n\nEnough of this 'cult' nonsense. We will wear out the word. The word once had actual meaning. If you have fallen under the spell of a charismatic leader and have withdrawn from normal life, you just might be part of a cult. These days simply thinking outside of the box suffices, and the definition expands to include \"people we don't like.\" When I actually gave that answer: \"people we don't like,\" in response to an anti-cult tweet, my comment was roundly condemned as being almost too stupid to acknowledge. I backed off and apologized, for they were right, and I had gone too far. I was thinking only about Witnesses and had lost sight of the very strange groups who used to be the sole designates of that word. Yet these days they would include Jehovah's Witnesses in their definition, retaining the original word, in hopes that the negative connotations will be applied to the new target.\n\nYou can overdo it with cults. The resident \"cult expert,\" as he bills himself, invites his audience to view an \"interview where I discuss how Trump exhibits characteristics of a cult leader.\"15 He thinks the current President is like a cult leader? Doesn't that pretty much blow his credibility? When you think half the country has fallen victim to cult manipulation, it is an indication that you have drunk too much of the Kool Aid yourself. When I made this observation on an associated tweet account, I was blocked, something that has never happened to me, and I cannot even get back in there to create a proper endnote. That says it all as to how the anti-cultists process other viewpoints. And no, I wasn't abusive. I did no more than say what I have said here. The reader who has followed up to this point is in position to testify. Haven't I behaved myself? I always do.\n\nRussian Witnesses engaging in the ministry these days will more accurately catch the flavor of Jesus' instructions from the first meeting for field service. From time to time, Watchtower publications have highlighted the 10th chapter of Matthew as being just that meeting. Note the overwhelming tone to the effect that the Christian message would not be well-received. It would be vigorously resisted. It would even cause contention within families. The NABRE online commentary, which is extensive, passes right over this bit of unpleasantness without remark, thus revealing that its translators are not overly sensitive to the preaching nature of the Christian ministry. They join and strengthen the predominate church opinion that Christ's message will find a welcome home in this world, and will, ever so gently, transform it over time. Nothing could be further from the truth. Let us consider a few segments of Jesus' instructions (in italics) at that meeting:16\n\n\" _As you enter a house, wish it peace. If the house is worthy, let your peace come upon it; if not, let your peace return to you. Whoever will not receive you or listen to your words—go outside that house or town and shake the dust from your feet.\"_ (vs 12-13, Be pleasant. Don't fight. If people insist upon arguing, simply take your leave without judging, for that is not your prerogative.)\n\n\" _Behold, I am sending you like sheep in the midst of wolves; so be shrewd as serpents and simple as doves. But beware of people, for they will hand you over to courts and scourge you in their synagogues, and you will be led before governors and kings for my sake as a witness before them and the pagans.\"_ (16-18, It is a very real possibility these days in Russia.)\n\n\" _Brother will hand over brother to death, and the father his child; children will rise up against parents and have them put to death. You will be hated by all because of my name, but whoever endures to the end will be saved_.\" (vs 21-22, It is another unpleasant fact that has, at times, played out in modern settings.)\n\n\" _When they persecute you in one town, flee to another. Amen, I say to you, you will not finish the towns of Israel before the Son of Man comes.\"_ (vs 23, You're not going to get it all done. Persecution may cause you to flee with work yet remaining. Don't worry about it. Will some Russian Witnesses seek asylum in other lands? Some have. The Witness whose house was burned to the ground shortly after the ban was imposed, did so.17)\n\n\" _No disciple is above his teacher, no slave above his master... If they have called the master of the house Beelzebub, how much more those of his household!\"_ (vs 24-25, They didn't like Jesus. They won't like you.)\n\n\" _Therefore do not be afraid of them. Nothing is concealed that will not be revealed, nor secret that will not be known. What I say to you in the darkness, speak in the light; what you hear whispered, proclaim on the housetops. And do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul; rather, be afraid of the one who can destroy both soul and body in Gehenna.\"_ (vs 26-28, Man up where you have to. Be courageous. Even should the enemy kill you, that is all they can do. They cannot interfere with the 'true life.')\n\n\" _Are not two sparrows sold for a small coin? Yet not one of them falls to the ground without your Father's knowledge. Even all the hairs of your head are counted. So do not be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows. Everyone who acknowledges me before others I will acknowledge before my heavenly Father.\"_ (vs 29-32, You will not be forgotten by your heavenly father, nor by those loyal to him.)\n\n\" _And whoever gives only a cup of cold water to one of these little ones to drink because he is a disciple—amen, I say to you, he will surely not lose his reward.\"_ (vs 42, You will enjoy some positive response. It will come predominantly by persons of modest means, since they are in position to offer only some water and do not wine and dine you.)\n\nDoes the next chapter of Matthew still describe that first meeting for field service? Such an interpretation is pushing it, since the first verse of chapter 11 explicitly states that the Lord sent them out. But let us imagine them hanging about in the parking lot for a while, as Jehovah's Witnesses are wont to do today, much to the Governing Body's chagrin:18\n\nJesus continues: _\"To what shall I compare this generation? It is like children who sit in marketplaces and call to one another, 'We played the flute for you, but you did not dance, we sang a dirge but you did not mourn.' For John came neither eating nor drinking, and they said, 'He is possessed by a demon.' The Son of Man came eating and drinking and they said, 'Look, he is a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners.'\"_ (vs 16-19, In other words, you can't please them all. They'll find fault no matter what you do. Don't worry about it.)\n\n\" _But wisdom is vindicated by her works.\"_ (vs 19, It comes right back to the Christian organization's reluctance to engage with those who would argue. Don't do it. Critical persons will argue until the cows come home. It might seem that some of them live to argue. Don't play that game. Demonstrate the works that will speak louder than games of the head.)19\n\nMinus any words, and through only music steadily rising to crescendo, the video starts out as in a dream. A barefoot man in casual tunic walks along the beach and his attention is caught by something afar off down the shore. Another group is picnicking on the sand. The scenes cut to vistas of the earth in all its splendor, and persons climbing, exploring, building, and savoring it. They are all people seen before, meeting various trials of faith, featured in separate videos at the 2016 Regional Conventions, hosted around the globe.20\n\n\"You won't understand all of this, but that's okay,\" I told one man on a return visit. \"Just give me your general impression.\" He was especially enthused when I suggested he try writing a screenplay for it. He was the young atheist man who'd agreed that Megan could return and discuss her Bible themes at length. She had invited me to come along. Surely, the man must have assumed she'd summoned one of the big guns from the church.\n\nHe invited the two of us in and parried cautiously, unsure as to what he'd gotten himself into. \"Now, just to be sure, if I should ask you to leave, you will go, right?\" he queried hesitantly. Somehow I felt I had a read on this fellow and I told him that he'd be lucky to be rid of us by midnight. It was enough to break the ice and an uneasy tension was no more. I asked him how much time he had had in mind. He said an hour—longer than we had planned to stay in the first place.\n\nI barely spoke during the first fifteen minutes. Megan said that the Bible was a scientific book and I winced inwardly because it isn't. What she _meant_ was that when the book happens to touch on matters of science it does so accurately, but Sean heard only what she had said, not what she had meant, and he seemed taken aback. Presently he brought up something about Nebuchadnezzar, and I knew he had prepped for how to speak with Witnesses, for—let us be honest—who cares about Nebuchadnezzar in this day and age? After we had jumped around into three topics, I suggested maybe we should go back to the first and discuss it thoroughly, before moving on. He agreed. After exploring that first topic, he lost all interest in Nebuchadnezzar and we both sent him off grazing to whatever pasture he had come from.21\n\n\"The greatest enemies of God are not to be found in the ranks of the atheists,\" I had mentioned to him. \"They're to be found in the ranks of those who claim to be his friends. In fact, that's why some atheists become atheists; they have grown so thoroughly disgusted at the conduct and teachings of religious people.\" He liked that remark. I have been back a few times since.\n\n\"It is a lot of family scenes,\" he puzzled out about the video, \"and they're wearing very simple, khaki-like clothing. And it's a great ending, the son runs into the arms of his dad—a big reunion. They apparently haven't seen each other in a while.\" No, they hadn't. The boy had died in an automobile accident, presented in a movie at that convention, and the reunion scene was one of resurrection from the dead. The entire video, shown the last hour at that convention, was of life on the other side of the great tribulation, and—wasn't that Sergey playing the violin or one like it that the Russian guard had smashed but now his wife had retrieved for him in the new system? Without mentioning the verse—for it contains no words—the video was Revelation 21:3-4 realized:\n\n\" _I also saw the holy city, a new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, 'Behold, God's dwelling is with the human race. He will dwell with them and they will be his people and God himself will always be with them [as their God]. He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there shall be no more death or mourning, wailing or pain, [for] the old order has passed away.'\"_\n\nAfter thousands of years have elapsed from humankinds' start, God removes the chaos of the Devil-inspired experiment of human self–rule, after all but the most obstinate can see that it has been an utter failure. He brings about what he was going to bring about in the first place but delayed for a time so that a moral challenge could be answered.22 Ones who have sought him out in this system of things are the first to realize the fruitage of his rule in the new one, as is portrayed in the video's title: Jehovah Will Treat his Loyal One in a Special Way.\n\nOne way of countering oppressors is to outlive them. There is only so much time they have to strut about on the world stage and then they must die. Of course, you must die too, perhaps even before they. But the Witness article of faith that I have never heard anyone among them doubt is that of a resurrection on the transformed paradise earth. Witnesses may dicker about this minor point or that, agitated like particles of Brownian motion, but I have never found one having trouble with the resurrection. It affords them major staying power, and it may be for that reason that it has historically come under virulent attack. It is not merely a human game that is being played. The chief priests bribed the guards to report Jesus' disciples had stolen his body and that he had not been resurrected at all.23 A relentless attempt to water down resurrection of the dead from 'actual' to 'virtual' was a major apostasy of the first century. Some had \"deviated from the truth by saying that [the] resurrection has already taken place and are upsetting the faith of some.\"24 And Caecilius of the 2nd century argues with ferocity against Octavius' simple faith in the resurrection, which seems to particularly get under his skin.25\n\nThe video is not intended as a tool for the ministry and it cannot be used that way—I have tried. A Witness knows the story-line and is apt to get choked up. The video portrays the culmination of every Witness's Bible-based hope. What! Does anyone think Russian Witnesses will trade it for some twaddle about breaking free of 'manipulation'—from persons who simply want to ensure that religion knows its place in today's world?\n\nIt does know its place, and that is first place. Some Russian brothers will give up, most likely, just as \"Demas, enamored of the present world, deserted me and went to Thessalonica,\" but for every Demas, there will be the \"ten people from nations of every language [who] will take hold, yes, will take hold of the cloak of every Judahite and say, 'Let us go with you, for we have heard that God is with you.'\"26 It is perhaps a process that the Russian authorities have speeded up, forcing the world to confront the question: What is there about the Christian message so objectionable that it must be condemned? Some will conclude: Nothing at all. It is this chaotic mess of a world that should be condemned. If history is any guide, the work may lull a bit in Russia, only to return with a vengeance at a later date.\n\nJehovah Will Treat his Loyal One in a Special Way is but the beginning of Revelation 22, the last Bible chapter, in which water sparkling as crystal flows out from the throne of God and of the Lamb; it works as medicine for the nations. As Jehovah's Witnesses announce now, it is: \"'Come.' Let the hearer say, 'Come.' Let the one who thirsts come forward, and the one who wants it receive the gift of life-giving water.\" Though the video has no words, it effectively ends with the words of the Bible: \"The one who gives this testimony says, 'Yes, I am coming soon.' Amen! Come, Lord Jesus!\"27\n\nIn the ministry one evening in upstate New York, I approached a man about to launch his hobbyist drone. I told him I had never seen one up close and he invited me to watch. It took off. He guided it up and over the street, over the rooftop of the neighbor's house, and I saw in his viewfinder what the drone saw. Yes! There it was! As he suspected, his first mini-drone had come down over the house and was stuck in the gutter. \"It's just a cheap little thing,\" he said finally of the lost drone. He decided to let it remain just where it was. How would he retrieve it anyway? Perhaps his neighbor would be peeved at his flying a drone overhead, as though spying. He guided his big drone back and it landed obediently at his feet. I hadn't said a word as to who I was, and he hadn't asked. With mother drone safe and sound, and only a chick lost in the neighbor's gutter, he said to me: \"You're a Jehovah's Witness, right? They're fine people. I never met one I didn't like.\" I thought I'd leave things just the way they were, like his baby drone left in the gutter. What could I have added? He had nailed it. We _are_ fine people. When searching the field of religion, look for those who are collectively maligned but individually praised.\n\nChapter 16 endnotes\n\nReturn to Table of Contents\n\n# PART IV – Updates Post Publication\n\nThe following chapters originally appeared as blog posts at www.tomsheepandgoats.com. They cover events developing after publication of this book. If portions seem repetitive, that's because they are. No attempt has been made to weed out redundancies or integrate them into the rest of the book. Maybe later.\n\n# Chapter 16 – Prison Terms and a President with Questions\n\nAt the Russian government press conference, journalists asked about the case of Dennis Christensen, who one day prior had been sentenced to over 6 years in prison for practicing his faith. Journalists asked whether Jehovah's Witnesses can really be considered an extremist organization from a common-sense point of view. The president's press secretary said: \"We cannot rely on concepts of common sense for governmental purposes.\"1 Of course!\n\nThe knee-jerk response of any jaded person in nearly any country on earth is to chuckle and say, \"Yeah, it is just like that here.\" But there is much more to be seen here.\n\nThe Russian government is plainly befuddled. The press secretary goes on to explain that the greater issue is not whether Jehovah's Witnesses are extremist. The greater issue is that Dennis Christensen was found guilty of violating the law that says they are.2 Surely this is kicking the can down the road. Two months ago, at another meeting, President Putin stated that he really didn't understand why Jehovah's Witnesses are persecuted, indicating that the law itself makes no sense to him as applied to Witnesses.3\n\nTo slightly misapply the words of Jesus, \"something greater than Capernaum is here.\" What? Two scenarios can be advanced—one for all persons, and one for persons of biblical bent.\n\nThe purely human one is that a powerful and cunning anti-cult movement takes the Russian government unawares. It takes them unawares because it is a Western import, not Russian at all, finding roots in a humanist French NGO dedicated to freeing people from ideas considered socially destructive, and nothing is more destructive to them than religion that includes the concept of authority among its members. The anti-cult movement finds its counterpart in all developed lands, though its methods will differ.4\n\nThere are even divisions among them. The anti-cultists in the West consider the anti-cultists in Russia to be doing it all wrong. One of them says: \"Jehovah's Witnesses need persecution for their beliefs to make sense. With their thuggish behavior that violates human rights, Russia is blowing a huge gust of wind into Watchtower's sails, fueling another generation's worth of propaganda.\"\n\nOf course! They have a \"persecution complex\" over there—often the charge is made by Witness opposers. Why would their fellow anti-cultists—brothers in spirit if not in technique—be so stupid as to validate it by persecuting them? It is as though he says: \"Look—we want what you want, the destruction of the Witness organization. But that is not the best way to do it.\"\n\n***~~~***\n\nThe second scenario, for those of biblical bent, and it may not be of interest to those not, so they have permission to skip this and two succeeding paragraphs, involves the fact that the Witness organization has identified Russia as the biblical \"king of the north,\" an entity found in the prophesy of Daniel (chapter 11). It is a complex prophesy which many students of the Bible have tackled, involving specific powers (kings) that pass their respective mantles to succeeding powers in often shifting geographical areas, commencing from Daniel's time down to the present. Does it complicate matters with the Russian government for someone to tell them that the Witness organization says that they are the northern king? Emily Baran, who wrote the book _Dissent on the Margins_ , about the persecution of Jehovah's Witnesses during Soviet times, said that it did. It genuinely confused the irreligious Soviets and enabled them in characterizing the Witnesses as a political movement masquerading as a religion.5\n\nThe Witness organization goes where it goes in furtherance of its mission to live by and advertise Bible principles, largely oblivious to ones who may think that their toes are stepped on—barely aware of it at all, because they 'don't do politics' at Witness HQ. There is a king of the south, too, these days associated with the United States, and neither king is overly friendly to the interests of Jehovah's Witnesses. However, because the concept of human rights finds soil more fertile in the West than in the East, Witnesses face few legal impediments to their work in such lands. In fact, the most frequent participant in U.S. Supreme Court proceedings has been the Witness organization itself—sometimes as plaintiff and sometimes as defendant. Of them, Justice Harlan Fiske Stone once said: \"I think the Jehovah's Witnesses ought to have an endowment in view of the aid which they give in solving the legal problems of civil liberties.\"6\n\nThe entire prophesy as seen through Jehovah's Witnesses' eyes is most recently discussed in their 1999 publication _Pay Attention to Daniel's Prophesy_ ,7 which is a discussion of the entire Bible book, not just the chapters involving the two opposing kings. Regardless of who interprets the prophesy, and of what time interval is covered, the kings of the north and south are continually at loggerheads. What is remarkable about the present—and this is only this writer's perception—is that even when the \"kings\" declare that they would like to get along, outside forces intervene to keep them \"on script.\"\n\n\"Wouldn't it be nice if we actually got along with Russia?\" the current American president said during his campaign. President Putin has spoken similarly. At which point, the American press intervenes to virtually ensure that they will not.8 Today, it is widely recognized that east-west relations are subsequently more strained than in even Soviet times. This dovetails so well with certain biblical passages (Ezekiel 38:4, Revelation 17:17) to the effect that world powers will do things not of their own devising that the similarity is impossible to let pass without mention. One must wonder if former Witnesses, upon seeing unexpected world developments that violate even \"common sense,\" yet are exactly in accord with long Witness expectations, do not think sometimes that they may have deboarded the train too soon and might look to re-board at the next station—for in the aftermath of the final contest between the kings of the north and south, a contest whose biblical role has been developing for 2500 years, the \"people of the covenant\" at last find deliverance.\n\nIt is to be noted that enemies of Jehovah's Witnesses present themselves, not as enemies of individual Witnesses, but of the organization that they have chosen, which they somehow portray as having \"enslaved\" them through various psychological techniques of \"control.\"9 In Russia, Jehovah's Witnesses as people are not banned. Only their organization is. However, most persons are not sophisticated enough to tell the difference, because essentially there is no difference. The Witness enemy is befuddled by it and assaults members with impunity. The police stand by and do nothing because they, too, are befuddled by it. The government is befuddled by it, as noted above. The Witness him or herself is befuddled by it. Everyone is befuddled by it because it makes no sense. It is like this writer saying that he loves the Russian people—it is only the Kremlin that he seeks to destroy. It is like him saying that the Russian people are free to drive the roads—it is only the roads that are banned. It takes a while to get one's head around such a notion. Guileless ones are particularly disadvantaged because the presentation itself is steeped in guile.\n\nIt doesn't even matter the reason for opposition to the Witnesses. The anti-cultists of the West latch on to different reasons to destroy the Witness organization than do the anti-cultists of the East. A common trigger for denunciation in the West is that Jehovah's Witnesses are unsupportive of gay rights, and within their community, do not allow for gay sex. This makes them absolute heroes in Russia, which avidly persecutes gays. Just after the Russian ban was instituted, Angela Merkel even mentioned the two populations in the same breath to Putin—questioning him of his harassment of gays and Jehovah's Witnesses. (Many Western sources, such as the BBC, edited out Jehovah's Witnesses so as to focus on gays.)10 So Russia must scramble to find different reasons for persecution, since a prime Western reason is not a problem in its eyes. Some Russian sources commenting on recent Witness events mention as a specific objection only that Jehovah's Witnesses refuse blood transfusions. Even the most staunch advocate of blood transfusion will concede that the group refusing them are not to be equated with ISIS terrorists. No, on so many levels, Witness persecution defies common sense. Whenever things do that, people can be forgiven for wondering if something supernatural isn't at work, as well.\n\n***~~~***\n\nDennis Christensen \"has spent the last 20 months in a cold cell with suspected drug dealers and only been allowed to meet his wife, separated by bars and a corridor, twice a month. If convicted, he could spend up to a decade in jail,\" writes Andrew Osborn for Reuters.11 How much do you want to bet that those drug dealers now know their Bibles quite well? Alas, that may make them more unwelcome in Russia than had they landed the area distribution franchise for Drugs-R-Us.\n\nHe must have his moments of despondency. He must. But you would never know it. He is serene in appearances, and sometimes even cheerful. Jehovah's Witnesses could not have wished for better examples to face the Russian bear than he and his wife Irene. See how he typifies the spirit of 1 Peter 2:23:\n\n\"Christ suffered...leaving you a model for you to follow his steps closely....When he was being reviled, he did not go reviling in return. When he was suffering, he did not go threatening, but kept on committing himself to the one who judges righteously.\"\n\nHas he wavered in his love for his adopted homeland? He \"does not regret that he moved to live in Russia. 'It is one of the best decisions that I have made in my life, and it brought me much happiness,'\" he tells the Reuters reporter. This despite his being anything but starry eyed. \"To call me or other peaceful Jehovah's Witnesses extremists is the greatest stupidity that I have ever heard!\" he says. \"Of course I hope that he (the judge) will be just,\" he said. \"But I also know which country I've been living in.\"12\n\nOnly a month ago, President Putin, when asked, stated that the equating of Jehovah's Witnesses with terrorists was \"of course...complete nonsense,\" something \"you need to carefully deal with,\" and later, \"so this should be looked into\" since \"Jehovah's Witnesses are Christians, too.\" We may soon learn just how carefully he means to deal with and look at it, as the time of Dennis's sentencing has arrived. As for Irena, \"I'm not afraid of anything and Dennis is not afraid either,\" she told Reuters.\n\nI have never seen a picture of him in which he is not mild, and even well dressed. He actually broke into song at one hearing via Internet, before the guard told him to shut up. Could one ask for a better example? The symbolism is complete. His surname points to the one he follows. Even his carpenter profession lines up. Even his last project as a free man spotlights the idiocy of branding him an \"extremist\"—building a playground for the community children. Would members of the only other group in Russia officially designated \"extremist,\" ISIS, also build a playground for the community children? Maybe, but it would be a long time gaining my trust to let my children play on it. On January 23, the prosecutor requested a sentence of 6 years and 6 months in prison. Why not add 6 days to the request to make it a nice, biblical 666?13\n\nIt's déjà vu for Jehovah's Witnesses in that country, whose period of freedom has lasted only 27 years. \"The only difference is that at that time [of the Soviet Union] they were called 'enemies of the people.' Now they are called 'extremists.'\" says Irena.\n\nJournalist Osborn does what all journalists must do. He probes for the actual reason that Jehovah's Witnesses are opposed. Usually all one must do in such cases is read the charges of the prosecution, but here in the Christensen case the charges are ridiculous, and the 'crimes' easily refuted. So Osborn hits on one spot of contention after another, but presently puts his finger on the real trigger: \"Russia has been the most outspoken in portraying it as an extremist cult.\" He refers, perhaps unknowingly, to a burgeoning anti-cult movement which finds conditions fertile in Russia for a perfect storm, but which is active everywhere. \"There have been many interviews with non-JW experts at court cases over the years, and these experts indicate that the source of claims against Jehovah's Witnesses most often comes from people with a personal agenda against Jehovah's Witnesses.\"14\n\nThe reason that Putin declares it complete nonsense to call Witnesses \"extremist\" is because it is. As such, he and his in government would never have dreamt of doing such a thing. However much any of them may dislike Jehovah's Witnesses, ISIS has taught them what extremism is. They are not so stupid as to confuse the two.\n\nLikewise, the dominant Russian Orthodox Church did not originate the ban against the Witnesses. That is not to say that some of them did not squeal with delight like kids on Christmas morning, but it was not their idea. The thinkers there are not particularly happy about it, for the same set of laws that declare it a crime to proclaim the superiority of one's religion in the case of Jehovah's Witnesses might easily be turned against them.15\n\nNo, problems with the Church and the suspicious government merely make for excellent tinder. The spark that sets it off, Osborn identifies as: \"Russia has been the most outspoken in portraying it as an extremist cult.\" It is a determined anti-cult movement that sets the match to the tinder. It is not even Russian-originated, but like Bolshevism itself, is a Western import. Religion writer Joshua Gill has outlined how a French NGO dedicated to protecting people from ideas considered socially destructive—the manifest goal of anti-cultism--sent a well-known emissary to Russia who spread that view with missionary zeal, maximizing his existing status with the Russian Orthodox Church.16\n\nThe anti-cult movement ever seeks to extend its reach. Only in Russia does it find conditions ripe for the perfect storm, but its influence is afoot everywhere. The match was even literal in 2018 Washington State, where six attacks resulted in two Kingdom Halls burnt to the ground.17 Of course, that is not the intent—to incite violence. Anti-cultists speak against it, for the most part. But when you yell \"CULT!\" in a crowded theater, who can say what will happen? The correct term, non-incendiary and chosen by scholars for just that reason, is \"new religious movement.\"\n\nAssembling material in preparation for this book, I became more and more convinced that the anti-cult movement was behind it all, and it is a conviction that has only strengthened since. In the book's introduction, I wrote:\n\n\"Does Kuraev really mean to suggest that prosecution presented no intelligible arguments at the Supreme Court trial? An observer of the trial might well think it. He might well wonder just what does the government have against Jehovah's Witnesses? There must be something, but it is not stated. At one point the judge asked the prosecution (the Ministry of Justice) whether it had prepared for the case. A decision had been plainly made somewhere from on high and it would fall upon the judge to rubber-stamp it. Of course, he did, perhaps because he wanted to remain a judge. The actual reasons behind anti-Witness hostility were never presented. So I have presented them in Part II, along with how they might be defended.\"\n\nI even went on to caution members of my own faith:\n\n\"Some Witnesses, truth be told, will be uncomfortable with Part II and might best be advised to skip over it. They will love the idea of defending the faith but may be unaware of the scope of the attacks made against it, some of which are truly malicious. Deciding to sit out this or that controversy will earn them taunts of 'sticking one's head in the sand' from detractors, but it is exactly what Jesus recommends, as will be seen. Not everyone must immerse themselves in every 'fact,' for many of them will turn out to be facts of Mark Twain's variety: facts that \"ain't so.\" You can't do everything, and most persons choose to focus on matters most directly relevant to their lives.\"\n\nThat caution is repeated, with even greater applicability, in the newer ebook ' _TrueTom vs the Apostates!_ ' The book is not recommended to all Witnesses. Read it if you want a specific reply to charges laid against the faith. For those able to focus upon forward motion only, the book is not recommended. For those not, it is. The line that invariably gets the largest applause at Regional Conventions of Jehovah's Witnesses is: \"Would you like to send your greetings to the brothers in Bethel [headquarters]?\" The hard work and integrity of these ones is appreciated by all. So not everyone will feel the need to check out every derogatory report.\n\nIn some respects, the Witness organization appears to this writer to be out of step with regard to the attacks it faces today. With a long history of persevering in the face of religious threats to stomp it out of existence, it seems slow to acknowledge that religions are mostly licking their wounds these days, and it is the irreligious world, with anti-cultists in the vanguard, that most vehemently presses for its downfall.\n\n***~~~***\n\nAt a December 11, 2018 meeting with the Council on Civil Society Development and Human Rights, one council member, Ekaterina Shulman, addressed President Putin: \"There is a list of organizations, for which there is information that they are involved in terrorism and extremism. There are 489 of them, and 404 of them are Jehovah's Witnesses.\"18\n\nPressing her luck, she continued: \"Here I will take a sinister pause. There could be an abundance of claims against Jehovah's Witnesses—they don't allow blood transfusion, don't send children to hospitals, [ed: not a charge that I have heard before] but they definitely are not calling for violence or committing it.\" Putin's response was: \"We should treat the representatives of all religions in the same way – this is true, but still, it is also necessary to take into account the country and the society in which we live. True, this does not mean at all that we should include representatives of religious communities in some destructive, or even in terrorist organizations. Of course, this is complete nonsense, you need to carefully deal with it. Here I agree with you.\"\n\nLater in the meeting, Putin returned to the topic and added: \"Jehovah's Witnesses are Christians, too. I don't quite understand why they are persecuted. So this should be looked into. This must be done.\" The Washington Post and Time picked up on the story the next day, the Post saying that he \"has pledged to look into the reported persecution of Jehovah's Witnesses.\"\n\nNow, what to make of this?\n\nYaroslav Sivulsky, the press secretary for JWs in Russia, stated: \"We have noted the president's reaction with surprise. If he knows about the whole situation, then probably his reaction could change something. We hope that he will give instructions to have the matter examined and something may happen. Though, knowing the realities of our country, there is not much optimism.\"19 Okay, so they're not breaking out the champagne just yet.\n\nThe online community of Jehovah's Witnesses was a cynical bunch, by and large, with many thinking Putin was just being slippery. In fact, since translating from Russian to English poses challenges, one Witness understood him to say: \"Jehovah's Witnesses are also Christians, for which I do not really understand how to persecute them,\" as though he was searching for more effective ways to do it. Hmm. Did he say: \"I really do not understand how to persecute them\" or \"I really do not understand how they are persecuted\"? It is the six-million-dollar question. It is a little like the Twilight Zone episode in which the earthlings were relieved to find the alien's handbook \"To Serve Man.\" 'Ahh, it means their intentions are good,' and they breathed easily, but at the show's end they discovered to their discomfort that it was a cookbook.\n\nI tend to take President Putin's remarks at face value. There is no reason that he has to say what he does, even expanding it to 'Jehovah's Witness are also Christians,' contradicting prominent religious people who say they are not. When his Foreign Minister, Sergey Lavrov, who was also among the officials that Witnesses contacted via a letter campaign launched in hopes of averting the 2017 ban, was asked a similar question last year, he could not have answered more harshly than he did. I think Putin is being genuine, at last waking up to something that he has barely paid attention to. Maybe it is like the hinge squeaking in the background somewhere that he has barely noticed but now it is driving him nuts. Perhaps he will even pick up his WD-40, go lubricate it himself, and subsequently vent his wrath upon whoever allowed such idiocy to take center stage in the first place, painting his country before all the world as a nation of goons—in the spirit of Ahasuerus avenging Haman.\n\nA president is a busy man. It is popularly believed that anything that goes down in a country will have his fingerprints all over it, but this is seldom so for matters of 'low priority.' Of course, this is not low priority for Witnesses, but it can hardly be otherwise for him. At a subsequent news conference, he spoke to the danger of nuclear war, which he hopes the West does not get too cavalier about: \"The danger of the situation escalating is being downplayed,\" he said, adding that the lowering of thresholds for nuclear capability \"could really lead us to catastrophe.\" If he loses sleep at night, it is not over the travails of a small religion. It is over the thought of the world going up in flames.\n\nWestern media excoriates him, but it cannot be wise to let the propaganda of one king mold our view of the other. I was very careful, in writing this book not to do that. In the event it was ever read by anyone that mattered, I did not want to sabotage it by being disrespectful or accusing.\n\nIt wasn't that hard to do—for example, by spotlighting the two, likely three, times that Russia, not the United States, saved the world from certain nuclear war. Lieutenant Colonel Petrov spotted an incoming missile from the U.S. on his screen, correctly judged it a malfunction, and against orders, did not relay the report to the excitable Kremlin.20 Second-in-command Vasili Arkhipov refused to sign-off with his two fellow officers to launch a nuclear attack during the Cuban missile crisis—thwarting an attack that had to have unanimous backing.21 Nikita Khrushchev arguably brought that crisis to a close with his last-minute telegram to President Kennedy.22\n\nHowever, in refraining from criticizing Putin personally, I was not just being expedient. I honestly came to feel it not likely that he was one of the instigators. I admit that feeling wavered in view of the abuses of the last few months, with Witnesses physically accosted by police, but now it intensifies. Promisingly, he is not cut from the same cloth as many in high government. He was not born to privilege in the ruling class. He started from the ground up, as a regular office worker, and lived with his parents during the early days of his working life.23 He thus probably retains a feel for the interests of the 'common man' that his co-rulers may not. In the end, it hardly matters, because 'the heart of a king is as streams of water' in Jehovah's hands. But it helps if it is neither ice cubes nor steam to begin with.\n\nHe didn't have to say it, is the point. He could have issued some boiler-plate beatitude of how 'the situation is serious and we continue to monitor it closely.' He certainly didn't have to say that Witnesses are Christian, too—thus showing that he will not be shoved around by ones who insist they are not. His statement makes it much harder for Russia to thumb its nose at any upcoming ECHR verdict, indicating that he has no intention of doing that. How can his words not ease the pressure on Jehovah's Witnesses in that country? After all, if you were a Russian cop, would YOU violently accost one after what he just said? [edit: Unfortunately, it turned out that they would.]\n\nStill, he is conscious of the majority. How much freedom of worship will be restored remains to be seen, since he observes that with 90% of the country being of a certain religious orientation, one cannot throw everything overboard so as to please the \"sects.\" It is enough not to persecute them, which he seems inclined not to do. Maybe the brothers will have to tip-toe around for a while, and it will not necessarily be a bad thing for our people to focus on being discreet. That has long been the direction of theocratic training, anyhow. If Putin truly had evil intent, however, he would not have returned to the topic to say that he doesn't really understand why Jehovah's Witnesses are persecuted. Now let's see how well he holds up as the more devious ones labor to 'educate' him on the topic. We will see whose resolve prevails.24 Probably, JW representative Sivulsky has it just right: he is surprised and cautiously optimistic.\n\nIn some respects, it may prove a replay, with hopefully different outcome, of the situation with Pilate judging Jesus. Pilate knew that he was being set up. He knew Jesus was innocent. He worked rather hard to free him—that much is clear by reading any one of the gospel accounts, and the conclusion is inescapable upon reviewing all of them. But the scoundrels were so insistent, even hinting that to release Jesus would be treasonous, that he eventually caved. After all, it wasn't his prime concern. He had a province to run. He tried to do the right thing. That's how it is with many today. They try to do the right thing, but they only try so hard. When the going gets rough, they opt for expediency.25\n\nThe Russian Orthodox Church has insisted that it did not instigate the ban, and I am inclined to believe them. That is not to say that prominent ones were not delighted at the outcome, or that some instigators did not have Church connections. But the villainy stems from an anti-cult movement, with French connections, that is active in many lands. Conditions in Russia were ripe, that's all, just like they were ripe for Communism 100 years ago, which was also imported from abroad.\n\nWriting this book took the better part of a year. There were few publicly available online sources that I did not read during this time, save only for those that were repetitive. The most telling report was one by Joshua Gill, a religion writer, revealing from where most of the trouble came.26\n\n\"The Russian Supreme Court's July 17 ban on the Jehovah's Witnesses was the result of a decades long conspiracy funded by the French government, blessed by the Russian Orthodox Church, and sanctioned by the Putin administration...The latest phase of that plan first garnered international attention with Russian authorities' arrest of a Danish citizen.\" That would be Dennis Christensen, arrested May 25, 2017 for conducting a congregation meeting after the ban had gone into effect, and still in prison at this time of writing, (December 2018) his case only recently coming to trial.\n\nGill spotlights the role of Alexander Dvorkin, the Russian Ministry's Expert Council for Conducting State Religious-Studies. That Council exists so as \"to investigate religions that deviate from Russian Orthodox teaching and to recommend actions against those religions to the state.\" They have recommended taking strong action on non-majority faiths. Mr. Dvorkin is also vice president of the European Federation of Research and Information Centers on Sectarianism (FECRIS), a French NGO dedicated to identifying as a \"sect/cult or a guru the organization or the individual which misuses beliefs and behavioral techniques for his own benefit.\" It is an organization fully funded by the French government, and it may be remembered that that government tried to eliminate Jehovah's Witnesses by imposing a 60% tax on their activities in 1998. The tax was steadfastly appealed by Jehovah's Witnesses until it was struck down by the European Court of Human Rights fourteen years later.\n\nThe Daily Caller article reveals the depth of Dvokin's misinformation and dislike of Jehovah's Witnesses. \"Their adepts recruit failed university enrollees, and people on vacation as well; they have a wide range of psychological influence, especially on the unstable minds of adolescents and youths,\" he says of them and the Hare Krishnas. He has encouraged the public to \"take part in the fight against sects, file complaints and collect raw data so that the local authorities can react quickly.\" In a 2009 documentary called 'Emergency Investigation: Jehovah's Witnesses,' he compared Witnesses to drug dealers. The Journal for the Study of Beliefs and Worldviews attributes instances of public violence against Russian Witness members to that documentary, just as the violence visiting Kingdom Halls in Washington State is similarly stoked by the inflammatory use of the C-word. Is the FECRIS mission of identifying as a \"sect/cult or a guru the organization or the individual which misuses beliefs and behavioral techniques for his own benefit\" not exactly the battle cry of the anti-cultists worldwide?\"\n\nMine was the minority view among the Witnesses I spoke with. \"You are a better Christian than I am,\" one said. \"You always expect the best from people. I don't believe a word a politician says.\" Note that his distrust is of \"a politician,\" not of Putin specifically, though he hardly sings his praises. One could even say that it is a sign of being \"insular\"—they are all the same to him. Having said that, they are all the same to many persons today—it is hardly an attribute of him alone. Why, long ago Mark Twain even said that politicians must be changed as frequently as a diaper—and for the same reason.\n\nIt is true that I try to think the best of people. Am I a \"better Christian\" in this instance? Or just a dumber one? Time will tell. [edit April 5, 2019: so far, a dumber one]\n\nEndnotes\n\n1. \"The Kremlin announced the complexity of the situation with Jehovah's Witnesses,\" Interfax-Religiia, February 7, 2019, accessed March 22, 2019, http://www.interfax-religion.ru/?act=news&div=71993\n\n2. Doug Bandow, \"Persecutors Pile on Jehovah's Witnesses, in Russia and Worldwide,\" nationalreview.com, March 1, 2019, assessed March 21, 2019, https://www.nationalreview.com/2019/03/jehovahs-witnesses-persecuted-russia-worldwide, accessed April 4, 2019\n\n3. Mark Bennetts, \"Putin disavows crackdown on Jehovah's witnesses, giving hope to the detained,\" religionnews.com, January 9, 2019, accessed April 4, 2019\n\n4. \"Russia vs Jehovah's Witnesses and the influence by FECRIS,\" May 9, 2017, https://freedomofbelief.net/activities/russia-vs-jehovahs-witnesses-and-the-influence-by-fecris, accessed: April 4, 2019 [tell me if the accompanying photo of Dvorkin does not remind one of Rasputin himself]\n\n5. Emily P. Baran, _Dissent on the Margins \\- How Jehovah's Witnesses Defied Communism and Lived to Preach About It_ (New York: Oxford University Press, 2014) 137\n\n6. Harlan Fiske Stone to Charles Evans Hughes, 24 March 1941, quoted by Peters, Judging Jehovah's Witnesses, 186.\n\n7. _Pay Attention to Daniel's Prophesy_ , (Brooklyn, Watchtower Bible and Tract Society of Pennsylvania, 1999)\n\n8. Paul Craig Roberts, Paul Craig, \"America Overrules Trump: No Peace with Russia,\" foreignpolicyjournal.com, July 19, 2018, accessed: April 4, 2019\n\n9. \"Russia vs Jehovah's Witnesses and the influence by FECRIS,\" May 9, 2017, https://freedomofbelief.net/activities/russia-vs-jehovahs-witnesses-and-the-influence-by-fecris, accessed: April 4, 2019\n\n10. Andreas Rinke and Denis Pinchuk, \"Putin, Merkel, Struggle to Move Past Differences in Tense Meeting,\" Reuters, May 2, 2017, accessed March 22, 2018, https://www.reuters.com/article/us-russia-germany-putin-syria/putin-merkel-struggle-to-move-past-differences-in-tense-meeting-idUSKBN17Y1JC\n\n11. Osborn, Andrew (Reuters), Jehovah's Witness on Trial for 'Extremism' Likens Authorities to Stalin, The Moscow Times, January 22, 2019, accessed April 4, 2019, https://www.themoscowtimes.com/2019/01/22/cast-in-russia-as-enemy-within-jehovahs-witnesses-see-soviet-history-replay-a64238\n\n12. Viktor Nekhezin, \"Jehovah's Witnesses in Russia: How Dennis Christensen Became an Extremist, Russian Service of the BBC, January 23, 2019, see https://credo.press/222376, English translation at: https://www2.stetson.edu/~psteeves/relnews/190123b.html\n\n13. Maksim Kliagin, \"A Very Convenient Victim\": Rights Advocates See Dangerous Attack on Human Rights in Christensen Case, Orlevskie Novosti, 28 January 2019, https://newsorel.ru/fn_430772.html, see English translation: https://www2.stetson.edu/~psteeves/relnews/190128e.html, accessed April 4: 2019\n\n14. Peter Coyer, \"(Un)Holy Alliance: Vladimir Putin, The Russian Orthodox Church And Russian Exceptionalism,\" Forbes.com, May 21, 2015, accessed April 4, 2019, https://christianity.stackexchange.com/questions/56240/is-the-russian-orthodox-church-pressing-the-government-of-russia-to-ban-jehovah, see link within article to https://www.jw.org/en/news/releases/by-region/russia/anti-extremism-law-interviews/\n\n15. Andrei Kuraev, \"Prohibition of Jehovah's Witnesses Undermines Trust in Court,\" _To Truth_ , a project of the Tomsk Information and Consulting Center on the problems of sects and occultism, April 25, 2017\n\n16. Joshua Gill, \"The French Conspiracy With The Russian Orthodox Church That Destroyed The Jehovah's Witnesses, DailyCaller.com, July 7, 2017, accessed April 4, 2019, https://dailycaller.com/2017/07/23/the-french-connection-how-the-russian-orthodox-church-and-the-putin-administration-colluded-with-a-french-ngo-to-destroy-the-jehovahs-witnesses/\n\n17. Tom Porter, \"Jehovah's Witness Halls in Washington State Have Been Targeted in a Series of Arson Attacks,\" Newsweek, April 4, 2019, accessed April 4, 2019, https://www.newsweek.com/jehovahs-witness-halls-washington-state-have-been-targeted-series-arson-1251731\n\n18. Moscow Kremlin minutes: Session of the Council for the Development of Civil Society and Human Rights, December 11, 2018, Tuesday, accessed April 5, 2019: http://kremlin.ru/events/president/news/59374, for English translation, see \"fact-checked\" version (with nothing corrected other than political interpretation) at: https://www.polygraph.info/a/putin-jehovahs-witnesses-in-russia-fact-check/29663600.html\n\n19. \"Putin Calls Ban of Jehovah's Witnesses Nonsense,\" BBC Russian Service, December 17, 2018, accessed April 5: 2019, https://www.bbc.com/russian/news-46598425\n\n20. Simon Shuster, \"Stanislav Petrov, the Russian Officer Who Averted a Nuclear War, Feared History Repeating Itself, Time, September 19, 2017, accessed March 28, 2018, http://time.com/4947879/stanislav-petrov-russia-nuclear-war-obituary/\n\n21. Nicola Davis, \"Soviet Submarine Officer Who Averted Nuclear War Honoured with Prize,\" October 27, 2017, accessed March 28, 2018, https://www.theguardian.com/science/2017/oct/27/vasili-arkhipov-soviet-submarine-captain-who-averted-nuclear-war-awarded-future-of-life-prize\n\n22. At the John F Kennedy Presidential Library is the 2700-word telegram Premiere Khrushchev sent to JFK, dated October 26, 1962.\n\n23. Steven Lee Myers, _The New Tsar: The Rise and Reign of Vladimir Putin_ (New York: Knoph, 2014) 24\n\n24. Pavel Skrylnikov, \"Will Jehovah's Witnesses be Exempt From the Yarovaya Package? Vladimir Putin speaks for the first time about persecution of religious minorities,\" Nezavisimaia Gazeta, January 15, 2019, accessed April 5, 2019, http://www.ng.ru/problems/2019-01-15/12_457_tend2.html\n\n25. See the final chapters, usually 2nd to the last, of each of the four gospels, Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John.\n\n26. Joshua Gill, \"The French Conspiracy\n\nReturn to Table of Contents\n\n# Chapter 17 – Mistreatment and Enemy Revealed\n\nAt 6:15 AM on February 15, 2019, Timofei Zhukov and his wife were awakened by furious pounding on the door, as though someone would break it down. They didn't answer and the pounding ceased. Half an hour later their balcony door _was_ broken down. Several riot police stormed into the room. Zhukov was kicked, cuffed, and his head slammed against the wall—'the blood is still on the wallpaper,' he later told Kommersant, the business magazine. His wife cried in alarm and was cursed in consequence.1\n\nIt was part of a sting operation that netted 40 of Jehovah's Witnesses in Surgut, Siberia—a major dark turn of events that nobody had anticipated. Twelve officers jumped from three vehicles pulled over to detain 2 Witnesses who were walking alongside the street.2\n\nMr. Zhukov was not tortured at the police station, but he did not escape hearing the screams of those seven Witnesses who were—music turned up loud in an attempt to mask the sounds, but there was no masking them. He is a lawyer, as it turns out, who once served as assistant prosecutor in the city, and now is legal advisor to a construction firm. \"Please register the exact time. Somebody is being beaten here,\" he shouted. An FSB agent entered the room and said, \"Don't worry, they do not beat anyone here\"—there was a drug addict within who was screaming his head off, he was told. And the former prosecutor believed it, only discovering the truth later from his brothers who had been on the other side of the door. He told the magazine that \"until recently, he could not believe that law enforcement officers could torture believers.\"\n\nThough cuffed for three hours while his home was searched, and beaten on his legs whenever they were judged to be insufficiently far apart, the handcuffs were removed for his escort to the waiting vehicle. \"We won't scare people,\" he was told. He answered back that he preferred to wear them, for the neighbors had known him his entire life and were in good position to know whether he was a criminal or not. But off they came, and he was placed into the van—not one that said 'Police' but one that bore the markings 'Northern Roadway,' as though off for a friendly commiseration with his former colleagues in law, though his smashed-in apartment balcony must have suggested otherwise.\n\nThey must have hoped to have kept it under wraps. They must have hoped to cast a pall upon the Witness community, but otherwise not suffer their deeds to see the light of day. How else can one account for such a hurried and stupid explanation, shortly thereafter, that the Witnesses had beaten themselves up (as only a sect member could do) to thwart the police investigation? \"After the arrest and searches, they, under the direction of the lawyers who arrived in Surgut, got together and during the meeting struck each other, which could then be presented as evidence of torture,\" one \"insider\" said, for ura.ru. \"Well-known lawyers who specialize in representing the interests of the Jehovists throughout the country are involved in the case. Services each cost 5 million rubles. The main task is to ruin the criminal case, to attract public attention.\"3 Of course! They must have figured that they had to say something, and quickly, for the accounts of the victims along with undeniable photo evidence4 were promptly showcased throughout the world, and the European Court of Human Rights demanded independent investigation.5\n\nLocal hospitals told the released victims that would they be treated for their injuries, but that those injuries would not be documented.6 Plainly, they had been leaned upon by someone. Surgut, as determined by a rough atlas survey, is the 67th most populous city in Russia. Perhaps authorities hoped there wouldn't be much of any support, legal or otherwise, for Witnesses way out there, instead of one of the victims actually being a lawyer. Another victim said one agent had told him: \"We had to specifically come from Moscow for this.\"7 Why couldn't he have just stayed in Moscow, where Jehovah's Witnesses surely are more numerous and are having just as great a challenge coping with the Orwellian law that says you can be a Jehovah's Witness just so long as you do not do any of the things Jehovah's Witnesses do, which apparently includes existing? No, to this writer, this episode has the earmarks of a deed meant to be done in a remote corner that unexpectedly turned out to be a world stage, necessitating a hasty (and clumsy) response.\n\nReported Znak.com: \"The believers think that all of this was done with just one goal—to beat out \"evidence necessary to the investigation\" from those who had decided to exercise their right granted by the Russian constitution not to provide evidence against themselves and their associates.\" A committee spokesman in the Khanty-Mansi region, Oleg Menshikh, told TASS news agency on February 20 that no law had been violated during the interrogations. \"Nobody tortured them,\" he said. \"There was no physical or psychological pressure on them.\"5 But two days later there was an about face, with the same official declaring that the government had decided to probe the claim \"given the agitation that has arisen after publication of this information in the media.\"8\n\nThat's not entirely promising, a cynic might reply, and many did. Was it not like saying: \"Look, if they want an official document saying that we didn't do it, we can comply with that\"? So be it. Whose version of truth will prevail? From within the Nazi death camps, Jehovah's Witnesses smuggled out detailed diagrams of their layout, and those were published in Watchtower magazines.9 They were disbelieved by other media outlets until post-liberation proved them all true. The Witnesses' veracity is well established, even by those who don't like them. On the other hand, stories of abuse, even torture, by Russian police are legion by groups of many different stripes.\n\nNot everything pointed to a quick whitewash. Following an early meeting of the investigative committee, **Vladimir Ermolaev,** a department chief, told Znak.com **:** **\"I admit to you that what these people described at the meeting, with these horrible details, all of this shocked me....I cannot describe for you in detail, since nobody has authorized me to do so. But what they said, I registered it all, documented it. I will send all of these materials to the Investigation Department of the S.K.R. for Yugra and to the prosecutor's office of the region.\"** **10** So time will tell.*\n\nWhen the young boy cries, \"The emperor has no clothes!\" and the latter in response just keeps on strutting his stuff, there's not much one can do about it other than thoroughly documenting his nakedness and broadcasting it far and wide. This, the organization of Jehovah's Witnesses have done, most notably through their website. No wonder the urgent need of those who oppose to deprive them of organization.\n\nJehovah's Witnesses are regarded by many as the canary in the coal mine. What happens to them may soon happen to others. Two American Mormon missionaries were deported in early March and there were reports that their faith might be next in line for wider persecution. However, Alexander Verkhovsky, one of the top Russian experts on extremism, xenophobia, nationalism, and human rights, wrote in March 2019, that Witnesses just might become a canary pointing in the other direction—maybe the plain excess will spark a reversal:\n\n\"The growing campaign against Jehovah's Witnesses inspires horror, but it also gives a chance that this time someone will finally catch on and think,\" Verkhovsky wrote. \"[The Witnesses] are too obviously not a threat to security and at the same time they are just as clearly impossible to 'eradicate,' since more than 100,000 people cannot be imprisoned or forced out of the country, and Jehovah's Witnesses have not given up on their faith during difficult times.\"11 The situation is too ludicrous, and too unambiguous. The popular mind confuses Muslim groups in a non-Muslim country, so that peaceful Muslim groups are mistaken for groups that have done very bad things. Even Mormons cannot be said to be apolitical—in the United States, they are the most politically polarized of all faiths.12 But Jehovah's Witnesses have claimed neutrality for their entire existence and their \"pacifist\" stance is attested to by all—just how dangerous can they be? Maybe the recent shocker of torture directed at a Christian group (Russians are used to it for Muslim activists suspected of \"excessive radicalism,\" Verkhovsky speculates) will cause the government to recalibrate.\n\nRussian Jehovah's Witnesses will hope for the best and ever be respectful of government, but they can be forgiven if they become jaded at the speculations of a quick turnaround. They have seen their country sail blithely past many buoys of ludicrousness. Did not Dennis Christensen say that he hoped the judge would be fair, \"but he also [knew] what country he lived in?\" Did not the country ban a Bible on the basis that it is not a Bible and the entire educated world knows that it is? Did not every interested person in the world see, via the Witness website, video evidence of Russian police in riot gear scaling fences to break down the door of a Kingdom Hall en route to arresting those inside, and the only ones refusing to see it were the ones that had a moral obligation to do so—the Russian Supreme Court? Maybe this buoy will be yet one more left in the wake of the unshamable ship.\n\nCan the Russian authorities be shamed? Possibly not. The ban itself shames them, and they could see it come from miles away, but they embraced it anyway. The present reality harkens back to what columnist Andrew Sorokowski wrote prior to the ban: \"Why would a nation of some 144,000,000 risk its international reputation to persecute a religious sect numbering no more than 175,000 followers?\" Nonetheless, trash it they did and it is not so clear when or even if that course will reverse.13\n\nMr. Verkhovsky takes for granted that Jehovah's Witnesses will not give up on their faith. How can they? They will recall the verse about paying Caesar's things to Caesar but God's things to God. They will think of the verse that says you do not fear the one who can kill the body and afterwards do no more. The one to fear is the one who can take away the soul.14\n\nThough ever a small minority, many have protested the treatment of Jehovah's Witnesses over the past two years. Atheists have held up banners in support of them. An activist from Kaliningradian scaled a lamppost to hang a sign proclaiming: \"Jehovah's Witnesses are banned, they will also ban God.\"15 Perhaps he is more accurate than he knows. Nikolai Gordienko, of the Herzen Russian State University in St. Petersburg, once stated \"When the experts accuse Jehovah's Witnesses for their teachings, they do not realize that they are actually making accusations against the Bible.\"16 \"Of course they are scared,\" Yaroslav Sivulskiy tells a source. \"But it does not mean that they will cease to be Jehovah's witnesses and do what is important to them...Jehovah's witnesses are good people, but they cannot abandon their faith when the state expects this refusal from them.\"17\n\nJust to keep things in perspective—for anyone can be too close to the forest to see the trees: Virtually all of Jehovah's Witnesses were exiled to Siberia during the late 1940s and early 1950s. Today, about 200 of them are detained out of a population of 170,000. It is outrageous, of course, and for many there is a sense of waiting for the other shoe to drop. Still, terrible though it may be for those affected individuals, life goes on and most of the Russian Witnesses are not suffering. They are cautious, yes, but they have always been cautious. They know their country. They know their government. They know their police. They have had the potential for trouble for many years and have adjusted. For the vast majority, life goes on as usual—they work, they go to school, they marry, some have children, they visit family both Witnesses and non-Witnesses, they buy groceries, they play in the park.\n\nThey know they must be careful, but they have always known it. They note with approval the heightened world and national attention to their faith, even if some individuals endure more than their share of injustice. They strengthen their weak ones. A few have actually stated that the last two years have been good for them because it has strengthened their relationships with each other and with their God.\n\nRussia is a huge country and not everyone plugs into the news. Many only vaguely know of the ban, many don't care about it, and some, as seen above, actively don't support it. Nor do they treat their JW acquaintances any differently because of it. This writer is told of one case where a school boss refused to dismiss a Witness employee, telling his superior that she is the best teacher he has, and he would hope for more like her. At a certain meeting location held in a private home, a Witnesses's unbelieving husbands says: \"Everybody knows that you are not extremists.\" That's good to hear, for another aftermath of the Surgut episode is that one father of three, a firefighter, was thereafter dismissed from his job despite triggering no complaints over 20 years, joining many others of similar experience. \"My three kids have been crying ever since the operatives barged down the door,\" he said. \"Now I have no job, but I am certain my God will show me a way through.\"18\n\nSays Sivulskiy: \"Law enforcement is making monstrous efforts to find clusters of Jehovah's Witnesses in their small gatherings\"—large assemblies are out of the question.19 But Russia is a monstrously-sized country, and efforts have been sporadic. Will they diminish, level off, or intensify? Witnesses recently reconsidered Revelation 2:10: \"Do not be afraid of anything that you are going to suffer. Indeed, the devil will throw some of you into prison, that you may be tested, and you will face an ordeal for ten days.\" \"Some\" does not mean \"all,\" it was observed, as the Witnesses continue to show resolve amidst adversity. They don't like what is happening, but they always knew that it might.\n\n***~~~***\n\nEvery religion has its apostates. The trend today is that the activism of those apostates is in direct proportion to the degree of firmness exercised within their former faith to encourage members to adhere to the path they have chosen. Apostates of the world have even united to wage common war against faiths they perceive as having such attributes. And nobody has apostates more voracious than those of Jehovah's Witnesses.\n\nSome members of this avid JW-opposer community gloated over this new development. By far, however, the tactics of torture were condemned by that group. Make no mistake, such condemnation is noted and appreciated—however it is also substantially watered down by the recognition that their goals are nearly identical to their more violent brethern—that Jehovah's Witnesses cease being Jehovah's Witnesses. It is only in methods that they differ.\n\nSpiritually speaking, is it not a situation of good cop/bad cop? They hope for the same outcome. The good cop is likely sincere that he does not want you to fall into the clutches of the bad cop, for he knows how bad that bad cop can be. But they both have the same goal. Physically, of course, Jehovah's Witnesses will far prefer the good cop. They are not superhuman and nobody wants to be mistreated. Spiritually, however, the good and the bad cop is the same. In fact, the good cop may even be worse. A thug is a thug is a thug. His malice is unmistakable and is on plain display. He doesn't masquerade as a friend whose only aim is to help you. He doesn't patronize you with a concocted \"us versus them\" scenario from which he is trying to free you.\n\nThe mutual goal is that Jehovah's Witnesses should no longer be Jehovah's Witnesses, and that their talk about the hope of God's kingdom should cease. It is that the grapes already on the vine should wither—to that end there is an effort to strangle the support organization. To be sure, their methods differ. It is as though one faction says to another, \"You're going about it all wrong!\" Yet the two factions are working in tandem, pressing for the same end.\n\nAs much as the saying goes that \"you can fool some of the people all of the time, and all of the people some of the time, but you can't fool all of the people all of the time,\" sometimes you can get pretty close. The majority can be fooled for the longest time. If it were not so, then the prophets of old would not have had the time that they did—a time which was revisited upon Christians of the first century, and a time which is being revisited on Christians in Russia today:\n\n\"What more shall I say?\" the Bible writer asks. \"I have not time to tell of Gideon, Barak, Samson, Jephthah, of David and Samuel and the prophets, who by faith conquered kingdoms, did what was righteous, obtained the promises; they closed the mouths of lions, put out raging fires, escaped the devouring sword; out of weakness they were made powerful, became strong in battle....Some were tortured and would not accept deliverance, in order to obtain a better resurrection. Others endured mockery, scourging, even chains and imprisonment. They were stoned, sawed in two, put to death at sword's point; they went about in skins of sheep or goats, needy, afflicted, tormented. The world was not worthy of them. They wandered about in deserts and on mountains, in caves and in crevices in the earth.\"20\n\nJehovah's Witnesses will put the experience off as long as they can, thank you very much, but they do not imagine themselves outsmarting the scripture. They do not suppose that Jesus' words about his followers being hated will not be fulfilled.\n\nAnton Chivchalov, the individual who covered court proceedings via tweet at five-minute intervals, per personal email to this writer, offers a gloomy assessment of how Russians view Jehovah's Witnesses, notwithstanding that there are some who see right through it. \"In Russia there are many myths about Jehovah's Witnesses that 99% people believe,\" he writes. \"They break up families, take people's property, kill their own children by refusing blood transfusion, American spies, want to overturn the government, etc. This is mostly the cause of the hate.\"\n\n\"Can the hate really be that high? what with Putin's recent statement of seeming support and at least a certain amount of favorable press? Are the human rights people, supportive journalists, and religious scholars all viewed as rabble-rousers?\" I asked.\n\n\"Yes,\" Chivchalov answered. \"They are too few. General public still hates Witnesses and approves of the repressions.21 And many people hate human rights movements too (thinking they work for the US).\" Jehovah's people are not wildly popular anywhere, but it appears that in Russia they face the most unhinged opposition, against which they are standing strong. They have this writer's undying respect.\n\nTimofei Zhukov the Jehovah's Witness hauled down to the police station where fellow congregation members were tortured, had this to say to Kommersant: \"I will tell you, not as a believer, but as a lawyer—these investigators and [F.S.B agents] esfesbeshniki simply do not know what they are doing. The did not understand anything—whom they are coming to search. what kind of people these are, what they are accused of. It seems that the authorities told them: \"There are bad people live there and they are corrupting the state system. Go and do what you want with them.\" Where did they get the idea that Jehovah's Witnesses were bad people?\n\nAfter the ordeal, Mr. Zhukov spoke with some of his former colleagues, who encouraged him to desist from \"such nonsense,\" as they termed his faith. He told them that Witnesses were doing their work for them to a great extent. \"You are investigating crime, but you have a problem with prevention. And I come to people and I say: 'It is bad to steal. It is bad to lie. It is bad to smoke.'\" Of course! Witnesses are not bad people. They are good people. Jerod Kushner, the U.S. President's son-in-law, well prior to his political days, said of the Jehovah's Witnesses from whom he would buy Brooklyn property that they were persons of \"high integrity\" with whom \"a handshake deal meant something.\" The journalists of Present Time comment to the director of the Sova Center Alexander Verkhovsky, upon hearing his description: \"Then they look like perfect citizens.\" \"You see, they would be ideal citizens in some other country,\" is the latter's reply.22\n\nThey are not bad people. They are good people. So from where comes the perception that they are bad people?\n\nIt is a question that might well have been asked in the first century. The historian Tacitus writes about the persecution of Christians in the first century—after Emperor Nero pinned the blame upon them for the conflagration in Rome: \"Therefore, to stop the rumor [that he himself had set Rome on fire], he [Emperor Nero] falsely charged with guilt, and punished with the most fearful tortures, the persons commonly called Christians, who were hated for their enormities. Christus, the founder of that name, was put to death as a criminal by Pontius Pilate, procurator of Judea, in the reign of Tiberius, but the pernicious superstition - repressed for a time, broke out yet again, not only through Judea, - where the mischief originated, but through the city of Rome also, whither all things horrible and disgraceful flow from all quarters, as to a common receptacle, and where they are encouraged. Accordingly, first those were arrested who confessed they were Christians; next on their information, a vast multitude were convicted, not so much on the charge of burning the city, as of 'hating the human race.' In their very deaths they were made the subjects of sport: for they were covered with the hides of wild beasts, and worried to death by dogs, or nailed to crosses, or set fire to, and when the day waned, burned to serve for the evening lights. Nero offered his own garden players for the spectacle, and exhibited a Circensian game, indiscriminately mingling with the common people in the dress of a charioteer, or else standing in his chariot. For this cause a feeling of compassion arose towards the sufferers, though guilty and deserving of exemplary capital punishment, because they seemed not to be cut off for the public good, but were victims of the ferocity of one man.\"23\n\nNote the dim view of Christians, fully shared by Tacitus. They were \"hated for their enormities.\" They were readily thought to be persons \"hating the human race.\" They were the deluded followers of a \"pernicious superstition.\" The cruel wrath of Nero unleashed genuine compassion, however they were regarded \"guilty and deserving of exemplary capital punishment.\" How could this have been perceived of Christ's followers only 35 years after his death?\n\nProfessor G. A. Wells, author of _The Jesus Myth_ , writes that \"the context of Tacitus's remarks itself suggests that he relied on Christian informants.\"24 Who could possibly have been their \"informants?\" They could not have been faithful members, for these would not \"inform.\" They could not have been non-members, for these would not have anything to \"inform\" about. There is little left to choose from other than former disgruntled members—today (and then) we would call them \"apostates.\" These came to wish their former faith ill. Perhaps some of them even posed as reformers of that faith, whistleblowers to whatever upset them—particularly if they had been ousted for conduct contrary to tenets of the faith.\n\nThe parallels are too blatant to ignore. If it was they in former times, how can it not be they in present times? How else can such a manifestly good people—in the first century and in the present—be so widely portrayed as bad? It is the \"apostates\" that present that picture of good portrayed as bad. It is the apostates that spark the conflagration, with unrelenting and incendiary charges. Any student of human nature knows that if you repeat a charge often enough, no matter how unlikely, it impresses itself on the general populace. Surely advertising teaches us that. The match doesn't catch everywhere, but in Russia if finds the kindling just right—a government hostile for 100 years to the land in which Witness headquarters is located, at the same time in close union with the dominant house church, hostile to even traditional Christian faiths. It doesn't happen everywhere. But the apostates ever light the match to encourage conflagration, and sometime the planets align.\n\nThe religious enemies of Jesus' day had to be careful: \"Then the chief priests and the elders of the people assembled...and they consulted together to arrest Jesus by treachery and put him to death. But they said: 'Not during the festival, that there may not be a riot among the people.'\"25 They could have _done_ it at the festival had the festival been held in Russia. There wouldn't have been a riot—there would have been widespread approval. They could have also done it at the festival had the festival been held in Rome. There was widespread approval back then—such is the change in popular perception wrought by the then and now apostates.\n\nKommersant asked Mr. Zhukov why the government persecutes his people, and he told them that he didn't really know—he could speculate, but he didn't really know.26 It was the same answer as President Putin himself offered just two months ago—he didn't really know why Jehovah's Witnesses are persecuted. Mr. Zhukov did note however, that early Christians, too, were called \"sectarians\" and that they, too, had been persecuted.\n\nEven the Russian president can't figure it out! Doug Bandow, senior fellow at the Cato Institute, writes that his \"comments are hard to explain other than as an expression of genuine puzzlement over so much effort being expended to eliminate an evidently nonexistent threat.\"27 How can it not be the machinations of someone devious operating behind the scenes? What arguments does that international community of apostates/opposers to the faith make? They are settling the score, largely, in the cases of those who were disfellowshipped, spinning for an irreligious world the myth that Jehovah's Witnesses break up families, a point of view that was not accepted by the European Court of Human Rights: \"It is the resistance and unwillingness of non-religious family members to accept and to respect their religious relative's freedom to manifest and practice his or her religion that is the source of conflict,\" that body wrote.28 Many, even most today, will look askance at any scenario in which spiritual considerations can trigger a family divide—no matter from which side it arises, but they will not think it an evil that compares with global terrorism. Families have divided since the beginning of time, often for matters far more fleeting than religion. In the West, it is not uncommon for the elderly to be abandoned in nursing homes, never to be contacted again, for no greater reason that they have become inconvenient. It is not something in which governments typically wish to meddle.\n\nNo, it makes no sense, the mass portrayal of Jehovah's Witnesses as \"bad people.\" If they refuse blood transfusions, surely it must be acknowledged somewhere along the line that progressive doctors have learned to accommodate their point of view, and in so doing, they have devised medicine that is both safer and more cost-effective.29 And, though it has played no part in Russia, a widespread war against child sexual abuse finds Jehovah's Witness \"clergy\" accused of covering up pedophilia. This is an unsavory thing, yet they come off almost as knights in shining armor when compared to religious denominations in general in which the leaders _themselves_ have been the pedophile abusers.30\n\nThe \"us versus them\" scenario avidly advanced by apostates has caught on. Roman Silantyev of Moscow State Linguistic University complains that \"this sect promotes external and inner extremism, inciting hatred to those who think and believe in a different way and bullying their own members,\" and even hopes that \"recognizing this sect as extremist [will give] a possibility to dozens of our citizens to leave this concentration camp.\" He has been conditioned to misunderstand everything. Jehovah's Witnesses will continue to carry out the tenets of their religious beliefs \"because they are operating out of faith rather than compulsion.\"31\n\nSilantyev is \"crazy\" and yet his craziness has spread to influence those whom you would think would not be crazy to act in crazy ways. Writes Bandow: \"Moscow denies that it is persecuting JWs for their beliefs. Rather, explained Vyacheslav Lebedev, chief justice of the Russian Supreme Court, 'the situation is actually being presented as if these people are being persecuted for their belief and religious activity. Yet the decision, which was made by the Supreme Court amongst others, is unrelated to religion. It is about a violation of the law, which religious organizations have no right to breach.' The law bans the faith, so punishing them for exercising their faith is merely punishing a violation of the law. This argument is perfectly Orwellian. Translating Lebedev: We declared your religious faith to be extremist, and you are not allowed to be extremists. So we are arresting you for being extremists. But feel free to practice your faith and have a good day.\"\n\nThis writer would be a wealthy individual indeed if he had a few dollars for every disgruntled ex-Witness who, upon failing to turn the JW ship in the direction of his choosing, went on scorch the JW earth with terminology from George Orwell's 1984. Witnesses practice \"doublethink\" and have \"thought police\" who sniff out ones committing \"thoughtcrime,\" or even ones who fail to do \"goodthink\" (thought approved by the party). It is an intensification of a trend seen everywhere: failing to sway the other side and consequently declaring them \"arrogant.\" Yet the first actual instance of 1984 comes, not from Jehovah's Witnesses, but from those who oppose them. If memory serves, was not Mr. O'Brien a pleasant and refined man on the surface, posing as Winston's friend, before revealing his true character—and thus combining both good cop and bad cop into a single entity?\n\n***~~~***\n\n*In fact, the Russian investigation into torture found, in a very short time, that there was nothing to it at all.32\n\n#  Chapter 18 – Sticking Up For the Unrighteous\n\nAn anti-cult advocacy prevails and has been allowed to define Russia's response to any religion not on the \"approved list\"—which in the Christian category includes only one: the Russian Orthodox Church. One would think that the idiocy of declaring Jehovah's Witnesses extremist would collapse eventually under its own weight, but it may not—again, because it fits in with the humanistic thinking of the day. It is not so much \"mind control\" that anti-cultists are concerned about; it is mind-control that is not theirs. Christians have left that life \"in which you once lived following the age of this world, following the ruler of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work in the disobedient,\" Paul says at Ephesians 2:2. Yes, the prevalent thinking of today surrounds us like air and has the same \"power.\" Buck it at your own social and reputational peril.\n\nHere is a Russian Orthodox priest33 who air-bombs a certain city with holy water as a strategy to combat the \"heavy drinking and fornication\" that, in his opinion, afflicts the population there. This action is not viewed as extremist. The peaceful preaching of Jehovah's Witnesses, who manage within their ranks to avoid both heavy drinking and fornication, is extremist, however. One wonders if the word will not shatter someday at the stresses placed upon it. One might easily conclude that it is this world that is extremist, and not the Witnesses at all. However, this world has the upper hand at the moment, so expect similar atrocities of reason to prevail. \"Christ said that they will persecute you for your faith,\" said Timofei Zhukov, the Witness who escaped torture at the police station, though he did suffer his head kicked \"as if [the officer] was kicking a football.\"34\n\nThe repressions of Jehovah's Witnesses do not even appear to be a coordinated attack, so observes Lev Ponomaryev.35 Rather, it \"appears to have emerged less by design than by the desire of the siloviki to find work for themselves that would gain them preferment and promotion. Many of them grew up in Soviet times. They remember how the sects were treated. They see beating up on Witnesses as \"a low risk operation that will bring those who carry it out only benefits.\" A joke making the rounds in Russia during 2019 goes: \"A man applies to work at the Moscow Patriarchate and says he wants to head the holy inquisition. He's told he's come several centuries too late—or perhaps three or four years too soon.\"36\n\nOnce in a while a bone is tossed the Witnesses's way. One Witness got out of pre-trail lockup when a judge ruled that the prior judge had shown prejudicial bias.37 She had rebuked the Witness with: \"You are not a prisoner of conscience and you have nothing to do with the first Christians. You should not speculate on this...\" He is and he does, and the second judge ruled the first out of line to muzzle the thought.\n\nIn the course of building a case against another one of Jehovah's Witnesses, Russian \"scholars\" even found extremism in an Old Testament passage.38 It was not merely a passage in the New World Translation—that entire work has been declared extremist and is therefore shelved. It is a passage found in any Bible, even the one used by the Russian Orthodox Church.\n\nThe offending verse is Psalm 37:29 [36:29 in Eastern Bibles]: \"The righteous will inherit the earth and will live in it forever.\" This verse is actually a threat toward \"unrighteous persons,\" the experts discerned. It is \"about dismissiveness (contempt, aggression) toward a group of persons on the basis of religious affiliation.\" It furthers the \"'propaganda of inferiority' on the basis of religious identity.\"\n\nIn other words, they are sticking up for the unrighteous in that land! \"Well—they're people, too,\" is their stroke of wisdom. If the \"righteous\" are to be favored with inheriting the earth and living there forever, then the unrighteous should be there, too.\n\nIt strikes one as breathtakingly foolish reasoning, and yet it is the reasoning that carries the day in Russia. But we should not laugh at it, because it is more evil than stupid, and it is the work of opposers who know what they are doing and will do it elsewhere when the time is right. The reasoning is the same—it is only more unmasked in Russia than elsewhere, but it may serve as a heads-up for other places.\n\nIn both places it is the reasoning of those who dislike God. They do not dislike him so long as he knows his place. If he allows societal trends and critical thinking to carry the day, he is welcome, but only then. If he tries impose upon people his own standards of \"righteousness,\" he is not. If he allows the will of the people to prevail, he is welcome. If he says, as in John 6:45: \"They shall all be taught by God,\" he is not—unless he means that the will of the people _is_ the will of God. He should know that his role is to sit in the back seat and keep his mouth shut.\n\nThe spectacle of opponents denouncing disfellowshipping is but a reflection of their frustration at having the window slammed shut on their fingers as they tried to break into the house with their new and improved morality—morality that is not God's. They are livid that they cannot do that, and so they rail against the tool that thwarts them, even trying to declare it illegal.\n\nIt is a God-ordained tool from the One who knows humankind better than they do themselves. Actually, humans know it well, too, but they forget it when it stands in their way. If they did not know it, there would be no such thing as advertising—the ultimate manipulative device founded on the premise that humans can be swayed any which way given sufficient propaganda. Corporate interests would not pour billions into advertising if they were not convinced human behavior could be so molded. \"We made Miller the number two selling brand in the country, and everybody said: 'Nobody will drink that stuff,'\" said author Mickey Spillane.\n\n\"Righteousness\" is an antiquated term for those peddling a new morality that would supplant the traditional one. The term is a threat to them. It is a term that is no longer allowed in Russia, but how far behind can the West be? The new paradigm is that acceptable human conduct should be determined by group norm, not imposed by some Bully from above. The war against disfellowshipping is at root a manifestation of those who would fight against God.\n\nSays the apostle Peter: \"For the time that has passed is sufficient for doing what the Gentiles like to do: living in debauchery, evil desires, drunkenness, orgies, carousing, and wanton idolatry. They are surprised that you do not plunge into the same swamp of profligacy, and they vilify you.\" (1 Peter 4:3-4) As the Gentile counterparts accumulate in the \"swamp of profligacy,\" they finally are emboldened to also say: \"Water's fine here in the swamp! Who are you to judge?\" The qualities Peter speaks of are simply not the anathema that they once were. Some are openly embraced.\n\nSo \"righteousness\" as defined by a God is an insult. To speak of a world where righteousness will prevail is extremist in Russia, and therefore illegal. For now, in the West, it is just gauche and small-minded. That is changing. If it truly is that God will allow only the righteous in the new world of his making, then anyone wanting to be found on His side does whatever he or she can to conform. Opponents today would make that illegal, or at least would make illegal the means through which it is facilitated.\n\nThe climate is not just right for Western opposers to declare that the righteous inheriting the earth is extremist, as they have in Russia, but that is what many want to do—and it will likely reach that point one day. Should it happen, it will be a development that is on script, and so thereby can be said to be okay. It will not be unexpected. The miscreants are angling for it now.\n\nNikolai Gordienko, of the Herzen Russian State University in St. Petersburg, once stated: \"When the experts accuse Jehovah's Witnesses for their teachings, they do not realize that they are actually making accusations against the Bible.\" Jehovah's Witnesses represent it. They practice it as best they can. The gloves have come off in Russia. Some would say that they came off long ago with regard to human rights, but now they also come off with regard to the root intent of Witness persecution. One might conclude that it is not Witnesses that are opposed, but God—the Witnesses are just the middlemen who represent him.\n\nGamaliel cautioned religious leaders in the first century regarding Christians: \"I tell you, have nothing to do with these men, and let them go. For if this endeavor or this activity is of human origin, it will destroy itself. It But if it comes from God, you will not be able to destroy them; you may even find yourselves fighting against God.\" (Acts 5:38-39) Accordingly, it is God who is in the crosshairs of opponents today—\"who is He to tell us what is righteous?\" they glower. Banning the Witness organization was not enough for those opponents in Russia. Banning the New World Translation was also not enough, for the same verses hateful to those demanding moral relevance are found in any translation of the Bible.\n\nHow far will opponents get in their quest to enlist the world's sympathy that they got kicked out of a religion for refusing to abide by the rules—in essence, for refusing to be \"righteous?\" Time will tell, but until the Lord intervenes, the playing field is tilted their way. The individual rights of those who would kick over the traces garners popular support. The individual rights of those who would impose upon themselves a force greater than they to safeguard against their own weaknesses means nothing.\n\nDuring Soviet times, dissidents stated that the underlying attitude of authorities was that they didn't really care if you believed their lie or not, so long as you knuckled under to their power to define reality. Declaring the Psalm extremist—\"The righteous ones will inherit the earth and they will live in it forever\"—is an example of the pattern reasserting itself: \"Yes, it is ridiculous, but who cares? It is what we say it is.\"\n\nIn the West it is still deemed necessary to believe the lie—that the \"offenses\" of the people who endeavor to represent God are the objection, and not God himself. That can be expected to change. The offenses are blown up and misrepresented, but they are not, in most cases, untrue. They are, however, not the issues to watch. The issues to watch are those relating to God's purpose to establish an earth in which righteousness prevails.\n\n***~~~***\n\nAt trial's end, in a Russian court, Konstantin Bazhenov's turn at last came to make his closing statement.39 He \"hardly talked about the legal aspects of the persecution and emphasized his spiritual side. 'It is better to suffer for good deeds than for evil ones,' he quoted the words of Jesus Christ. Then he briefly talked about what Jehovah's Witnesses believe in and how they live, and in the end he read a poem of his own composition.\"\n\nYes. This is exactly what you do. The law is so convoluted that nobody can get their heads around it. Jehovah's Witnesses are not banned, but only their organization is? People cannot get their heads around it. President Putin says words of support, yet it makes no difference? People cannot get their heads around it. Forget those things and just give a witness to all present, a witness that embodies Christian qualities of joy even under persecution, and a determination to serve God under any circumstances.\n\nKonstantin starts with wanting \"to recall one interesting aphorism, which is quite well-known: 'While the truth was on my shoes, the lie managed to get around half the world.' This aphorism emphasizes that sometimes some inaccurate data, false information spread very quickly, and the truth remains somewhere in the backyards,\" and he applies it to the misinformation spread about Jehovah's Witnesses. Mark Twain's version of this saying (or is this a version of his?) is: \"A lie can travel halfway around the world before the truth gets its pants on.\"\n\nBe that as it may, Konstantin is very glad that during court hearings \"the truth nevertheless sounded,\" albeit with \"delay.\". He thanks his God Jehovah \"that he trusts [him] to represent His interests in court, that He helped, gave strength, wisdom to understand the legal nuances.\"\n\nRepresent His interests he does, fully getting the sense of Jesus' words: People \"will seize and persecute you, they will hand you over to the synagogues and to prisons, and they will have you led before kings and governors because of my name. It will lead to your giving testimony.\" (Luke 21:12-13)\n\nHe has Revelation 2:10 down pat: \"Do not be afraid of anything that you are going to suffer. Indeed, the devil will throw some of you into prison, that you may be tested, and you will face an ordeal for ten days. Remain faithful until death, and I will give you the crown of life.\" He is a fanatic to those who have discarded God, and even to some of those who have not. But he is the very embodiment of Jesus' words to endure (with joy) under persecution, and he goes on to explain how that can be.\n\n\"Everyone who wants to live godly in Christ Jesus will be persecuted,\" (2 Timothy 3:12) he cites. \"This is like the law of physics, so I am not personally surprised that this is happening. Maybe a little upset. But the fact is that persecution is inevitable. They were in the 1st century, and they are now. It convinces me even more that I am on the right track and gives me confidence.\"\n\nHe uses that confidence to thank participants. He thanks his wife, first of all, but also the judge for \"carefully listening to us and trying to understand the essence of the issue.\" He thanks the investigator \"for permitting visits with his wife, as well as a request for our release from custody. It was a gift for my wife and I.\" He thanks his lawyers, co-defendants, friends who came for support, and even the prosecutor \"for listening carefully and outlining the main thoughts.\" Why throw stones? Be like the early Christians.\n\n\"If according to the verdict of the court, I have to go through the punishment of imprisonment, [he does, said the court] then I am sure that this will strengthen my faith.\" He has already been there almost a year in pre-trial detention, and has found that \"neither high walls, nor bars, nor barbed wire can prevent the Holy Spirit from penetrating and giving support. There are such words in the Bible: 'Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom.' It may seem at first glance: well, how, in prison is freedom? What kind of freedom is there? But in fact, for example, freedom from fear, freedom from sinful deeds, freedom from bad habits, freedom from foul language, from envy, greed, freedom from remorse, this freedom can be regardless of where we are.\"\n\n\"For, if you please the will of God, it is better to suffer for good deeds than for evil,\" he cites at 1 Peter 3:14-17. \"Indeed, I am happy that I do not suffer for crimes, that is, I did not steal, I was not a mortgagee, I did not rape anyone, I did not blackmail, I did not cheat, but they accuse me. I suffer for worshiping God.\"\n\n\"And it does not surprise me that such events occur, but sometimes it surprises others. For example, when I was in a pre-trial detention center, many prisoners said: 'We are here for crimes.' That is, scammers, hijackers, mortgages, counterfeiters - there are many articles with whom I sat. And they said: 'We really did something. But what are you doing here?' And they were surprised. Moreover, in my case there are no victims. Indeed, I have a clear conscience before God and before people.\"\n\n\"If I find myself in a colony, there also live people who need to learn the truth from the Bible about God, about his plan for the earth and people. This is a huge field for activity. If this happens, I will consider that Jehovah found there sincere people whom I should help to learn the biblical message. I see no other reasons. Psalm 50, verse 15 says: 'I will teach the wicked in your ways, and the wicked will turn to you.' The psalmist David wanted to help others so that they would not take the slippery slope. So, I also have a desire to help others turn from their lawless deeds, their criminal way of life, so that they turn to God. The fact is that the Word of God, the Bible, has tremendous power to influence people for the better. Thanks to the Bible, people get rid of bad habits and criminal lifestyle. And it benefits both themselves and the state, because, in fact, they become useful members of society. Of course, I do not want to lose my freedom, but if at least one criminal cleansed of the criminal past, it means that I was not in vain hurt.\"\n\nHe then launches into what can only be described as his \"Adam to Armageddon sermon\"—his talk touching on basic Witness beliefs regarding the:\n\ntheme of God\n\nauthority of the Bible\n\nrole of Jesus Christ\n\nKingdom of God\n\nChrist's ransom\n\nheaven\n\nearth\n\nreason for God's permission of evil and suffering\n\nwhat happens at death\n\nhow to find happiness as a family\n\nour worship of God\n\nChristian unity\n\nour behavior as Christians\n\nour relationships to others\n\nWell, why not? He does have a captive audience, after all, and they made themselves captive—specifically convening to pass judgment upon him. Trust me on this: nobody said on their drive home, \"That fellow doesn't know his Bible very well.\" Witnesses live by the Bible and make no apology for it. Should they experience reprisal, it is frequently due to a dislike of what the Bible itself says.\n\nCommendably, the Russian court participants did not stone him to death, as the Sanhedrin did with Stephen when he pulled such a stunt. They just put him on the prison bus and off to a new assignment. I love his flexibility. I pray that I can match it should my turn come. We can't necessarily choose what our new assignment will be or what hardships it may entail.\n\n***~~~***\n\nThe Associated Press today reports40 the torture of a member of Jehovah's Witnesses in the Russian campaign to eliminate the faith. It is the second such instance of torture coming to light. [edit—several more came within a few days] Arrests are commonplace. More commonplace are raids with the confiscation of personal property. 200 Jehovah's Witnesses were recently place of the federal list of extremists, which means that bank accounts are frozen, and they can no longer transact routine financial business.\n\nWith an active and prolific critical, at times hate, online campaign being waged against Jehovah's Witnesses, it is reasonable to think that it indirectly instigates persecution of them in Russia. It is reasonable to think that it indirectly instigates the torching of two Kingdom Halls in the United States during 2019, both of which burned to the ground.\n\nMany groups are harassed in Russia, but it is Jehovah's Witnesses who are head-and-shoulders the primary target. Why? It boils down to Jesus' words: \"If you belonged to the world, the world would love its own; but because you do not belong to the world, and I have chosen you out of the world, the world hates you.\" (John 15:19) It is no more complicated than that. Hatred against Witnesses may be cloaked as reports from a \"whistleblower\" or complaints of those who would advocate freedom from \"mind control,\" but at root the motivation is simply disturbance that ones should choose to be \"no part of the world.\" No villain on TV ever says, \"I am the villain.\" Instead, he paints himself the wronged one with a merited score to settle—and the program director strives so that we all see his point of view. We must not be obtuse.\n\nFrom the book _TrueTom vs the Apostates_!: \"The book ' _Secular Faith - How Culture Has Trumped Religion in American Politics_ ' attempts to reassure its secular audience through examining the changing moral stands of churches on five key issues. The book points out that today's church members have more in common with atheists than they do with members of their own denominations from decades past. Essentially, the reassurance to those who would mold societal views is: 'Don't worry about it. They will come around. They always do. It may take a bit longer, but it is inevitable.' Jehovah's Witnesses have thwarted this model by not coming around.\"\n\nWhat _Secular Faith_ is saying is that churches have in many respects ceased being \"no part of the world\"—and having done such, are not hated, since \"the world is fond of what is its own.\" Jehovah's Witnesses, and almost they alone, are yet remaining \"no part of the world\"—and that is why they are hated. That is why they have \"apostates\" who are off the charts in expressing vitriol. \"Apostates\" (within the Christian context) can be expected to proliferate in direct proportion to how the main body stays separate from the world. As such, Jehovah's Witnesses should almost be proud of theirs, for in them they are validated. A religion that has made its peace on the \"five key issues\" of Secular Faith—what's to apostatize from?\n\nAnti-Witnesses scream \"Cult!\" like patrons scream 'Fire!' in a crowded theater. Are Jehovah's Witnesses a cult? To the extent they are, it is because the Bible is a cult manual. The behavioral, informational, thought, and emotional \"control\" that anti-Witness activists complain about can be found in the urgings of the New Testament writers themselves. The words point to no more than people living by the Bible, living peaceably in this world while they look to the righteous new one to come with the arrival of the kingdom for which Jesus taught his followers to pray, the one the Bible describes as \"the true life.\" (1 Timothy 6:19) The agenda of the virulent Witness detractors is simply that no one should think in such an \"impractical\" way.\n\nA faith that remains \"no part of the world\" is thought socially backward, even socially harmful by some. But that hardly means it ought not be allowed to exist, particularly since it dovetails with Jesus' words. \"There has only been one Christian,\" Mark Twain too cynically remarked. \"They caught and killed him—early.\"\n\nThis writer is not even sure that Witnesses should run from the word. It may be well instead to highlight its origin. It is the same origin as 'cultivate'—which denotes 'caring for something'—and in a religious sense it refers to 'caring for the matters of the gods.' Okay. I'll take it. Jehovah's Witnesses 'care for the matters' of God. They trigger opposition from ones who don't want them to do that. They trigger opposition from those who have crossed over to embrace various aspects of the world—the world that Jesus says not to be part of.\n\nThis is clear in the testimony of the witness mentioned in a prior chapter, testifying for the prosecution in the Russian trial of April 2017—the trial to ban. She complained of \"complete and total control of life by the Administrative Center.\" Asked to give an example of this, she reported her expulsion from the congregations after she \"began her close, but not officially registered, relations with a man.\" In other words, she wants to violate, within the congregation, the Bible sanction of 'sex only within marriage.' The Witness organization does not allow it, and she spins it as \"complete and total control of life,\" hoping to get the Russian Justices riled up.\n\n'It is fine to adopt the standards of the world so long as one goes there to do it—don't bring it into the congregation,' the Witnesses would say. She signed on for such Bible-based standards, now she wants to change them—and when thwarted in that attempt, she seeks to get the organization that got in her way banned at the Russian Supreme Court! It is little more than revenge. It is little more than insisting the standards of the greater world be accommodated in the Christian congregation.\n\nDisfellowshipping itself is a last-ditch attempt at discipline, when all else has failed, to ensure that a member not bring standards of the world, no matter how commonly accepted, into the congregation. Is it harsh? It certainly can be spun that way, but as ought to be clear by considering _Secular Faith_ , no denomination has succeeded in obeying Jesus' direction to remain \"no part of the world\" without it.\n\nHistory testifies that among the reasons Christians were viciously persecuted in the first century was that their rituals were said to include cannibalism. Obviously, Jesus' followers did not do this, but from where might the charge originate? Might one look to the following passage in the sixth chapter of John, which begins by quoting Jesus?\n\n\" _I am the bread of life. Your ancestors ate the manna in the desert, but they died; this is the bread that comes down from heaven so that one may eat it and not die. I am the living bread that came down from heaven; whoever eats this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give is my flesh for the life of the world.\"_\n\n\" _The Jews quarreled among themselves, saying, \"How can this man give us [his] flesh to eat?\" Jesus said to them, \"Amen, amen, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you do not have life within you. Whoever eats[a] my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him on the last day._\n\n_Then many of his disciples who were listening said, \"This saying is hard; who can accept it?\"....As a result of this, many [of] his disciples returned to their former way of life and no longer accompanied him. Jesus then said to the Twelve, \"Do you also want to leave?\" Simon Peter answered him, \"Master, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and are convinced that you are the Holy One of God.\"_ (John 6:48-69)\n\nWhat of the ones who did not \"come to know\" that Jesus was the Holy One of God? What of the ones who \"went to the things behind and would no longer walk with him\"? Did they thereafter leave their former co-disciples to worship in peace? Or did some of them draw from these words proof that Jesus would recommend cannibalism to his followers? And if some advanced the notion, might there not have arisen ones in the congregation who pinned the blame on Jesus himself for saying the words that got the persecution ball rolling; 'What a blunder!'—I can imagine some saying (though not in his presence).\n\nIt makes this writer think of the uproar raised over child sexual abuse within Jehovah's Witnesses today. It is a controversy that played no part in Russia's efforts to ban the Witness organization—the topic never came up—but it is huge in the West. Jehovah's Witnesses are comparatively successful at preventing it—nobody, but nobody, has gathered every single member on earth (at their 2017 Regional Conventions) to consider detailed scenarios in which child sexual abuse might take place so that parents, obviously the first line of defense, can remain vigilant. But the world has little success at preventing child sexual abuse, so it focuses on punishing it after the fact, securing the barn door after the cows have fled. Routinely, we read of individuals arrested over pedophilia-related allegations. Unless the arrest is of a member of the clergy, the one detail that never accompanies such reports is that of the individual's religious affiliation or lack thereof. Yet with Jehovah's Witnesses, that detail is never lacking. Why?\n\nThe reason is that the Witness organization attempted to do something about child sexual abuse—they did not just close their eyes to it—and now detractors are trying to spin it as though they love the stuff. Jehovah's Witnesses are well-known as a religion that \"polices its own.\" It is an attribute once viewed favorably, but now in the eyes of critics it is spun as intolerable \"control.\" In the course of such self-policing those taking the lead in the Witness organization came to know of individuals accused of child sexual abuse. Their \"crime,\" if it be one, is in leaving it up to affected ones themselves to report rather than \"going beyond the law\" to do it themselves. Time will tell just how vile that sin is found to be, but it plainly falls far short of actually committing the abuse themselves, which is the pattern elsewhere, there being no mechanism for discovery for within the rank and file.\n\nAs with Jesus's remarks in the sixth chapter of John that can, in the scheming of dishonest ones, be spun into encouragement of cannibalism, so the Witness policy on child sexual abuse is spun by similarly dishonest ones to indicate that the organization is determined to nurture and protect it, whereas nothing could be further from the truth. Three times before the Australian Royal Commission, Geoffrey Jackson, of the Witnesses's Governing Body, pleaded for universal, mandatory reporting laws, with no exceptions—if that could only be done, it would make the job of the Witness organization in policing its own without raising the ire of those outside the congregation \"so much easier,\" he said.\n\nContinuing his cross-examination, Justice Angus Stewart said: \"Leaving aside the question of overriding mandatory law from the civil authorities...\" I almost wish that Brother Jackson would have interjected at this point, \"I wish you would not leave it aside, for it would solve the problem.\" The greater world cannot make a dent in preventing child sexual abuse, and so it puts the onus on those who are trying to do something about it. Alas, our best lines invariably occur to us too late—had Brother Jackson picked up my line, it probably just would have got their backs up—and then (gulp) he would have looked at me with displeasure.\n\nEndnotes:\n\n1. Alexander Chernykh, \"We are the same people as you, but now we are called criminals and extremists,\" Kommersant, March 1, 2019, accessed March 15, 2019, https://kommersant.ru/doc/3899000\n\n2. Oliver Carroll, \"Russia's Jehovah's Witnesses Allege '21'st Century Inquistion' Amid Claims of Torture,\" _Independent_ , February 21, 2019, accessed March 15, 2019, https://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/europe/russia-jehovahs-witness-crackdown-surgut-religion-discrimination-a8790761.html\n\n3. Dmity Zayayov, \"Source: Jehovah's Witnesses, Khanty-Mansiysk Autonomous Okrug, are trying to ruin a criminal case with accusations against security officials,\" _Ura_. _News_ , February 28, 2019, accessed March 15, 2019, https://ura.news/news/1052374340\n\n4. Lev Pomomarev, \"Read and Watch,\" blog post for echo.msk.ru, February 26, 2019, assessed March 15, 2019, https://echo.msk.ru/blog/lev_ponomarev/2378667-echo/\n\n5. \"ECHR Imposes Interim Measures in Response to Torture Complaint From Surgut,\" _jw-russia.org_ , February 27, 2019\n\n6. Matthew Luxmoore, \"'Time Becomes a Blur When You're Experiencing Great Pain': Russian Jehovah's Witness Alleges Police Torture,\" _RadioFreeEurope_ / _RadioLiberty_ , February 22, 2019\n\n7. Jason Lemon, \"Jehovah's Witnesses Tortured With Electric Shocks and Suffocation in Russia, Church Says\" _Newsweek_ , February 23, 2019\n\n8. \"Russia Says it Will Probe Jehovah's Witnesses Torture Claim,\" _apnews.com_ , February 23, 2019, accessed March 19, 2019, https://apnews.com/f43f396dac9c4159987493f92123a3f9\n\n9. Also, see Crusade Against Christianity, (Brooklyn: Watchtower Bible and Tract Society of Pennsylvania, 1938) . Regarding this book, the 1965 Watchtower volume, December 1, 1965 issue, recalls on page 733: \"Meantime in Germany, the Nazi fury rages and our brothers are exposed to frightful, inhuman persecution, which they withstand even at the cost of their lives. Documented material that reaches our office about such persecution is carefully preserved. Then Brother Rutherford approves publishing a book giving the evidence of the sufferings of Jehovah's Witnesses in Germany. It appears under the title \"Kreuzzug gegen das Christentum in the German language. It is also published in French and Polish.\" See some of diagrams at \"The Evils of Nazism Exposed,\" Awake!, August 22, 1995, 11.\n\n10. \"Stories of Surgut \"Jehovah's Witnesses\" about torture in the TFR shocked the Ugra Ombudsman,\" _Znak.com_ , February 25, 2019, accessed March 16, 2019, https://www.znak.com/2019-02-25/rasskazy_surgutskih_svideteley_iegovy_o_pytkah_v_skr_shokirovali_yugorskogo_ombudsmena\n\n11. Alexander Verkhovsky, \"The Fight Against Religious Extremism' all Widers, Need to be Narrowed Down,\" _ng.ru_ , March 5, 2019\n\n12. Michael Lipka, \"U.S. Religious Groups and Their Political Leanings,\" _Pew Research Center_ , February 23, 2016, accessed March 9, 2019\n\n13. Andrew Sorokowski, \"Witnesses to Persecution,\" Religious Information Service of Ukraine, May 5, 2017, accessed March 23, 2018, https://risu.org.ua/article_print.php?id=66964&name=asorokowski_column&_lang=en\n\n14. Matthew 10:28\n\n15. \"They Will Also Ban God,\" klops.ru, Mrch 9, 2019, accessed March 11, 2019, https://news.rambler.ru/other/41842016\n\n16. Emily P. Baran, Dissent on the Margins - How Jehovah's Witnesses Defied Communism and Lived to Preach About It (New York: Oxford University Press, 2014) 240\n\n17. Anna Ryzhova, \"Get Rid of Witnesses,\" Russian-reporter, February 25, 2019, accessed March 16, 2019, http://expert.ru/russian_reporter/2019/03/izbavitsya-ot-svidetelej/\n\n18. Oliver Carroll, \"Russia's Jehovah's Witnesses Allege '21'st Century Inquistion' Amid Claims of Torture,\" _Independent_ , February 21, 2019, accessed March 15, 2019, https://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/europe/russia-jehovahs-witness-crackdown-surgut-religion-discrimination-a8790761.html\n\n19. Anna Ryzhova, \"Get Rid of Witnesses,\" _Russian-reporter_ , February 25, 2019, accessed March 16, 2019, http://expert.ru/russian_reporter/2019/03/izbavitsya-ot-svidetelej/\n\n20. Hebrews 11:32-38\n\n21. Chivchalov's comment does not entirely square with remarks I made above (based upon the visits of a personal acquaintance who has traveled in Russia) but I believe it is a case of no one person seeing the entire picture. Plainly the '99%' is hyperbole. The title says it all in this Moscow Times article: \"Many Russians Don't Know the Jehovah's Witnesses, But They Still Want Them Banned\" (themoscowtimes.com, July 13, 2017). Chivchalov himself said at the time that it depends upon how the subject is breached. If it is just a matter of shooing away uninvited callers, most Russians will say yes. But if it is a matter of sending those ones to jail, they will not go that far.\n\n22. www.currenttime.tv/a/Jehovah-witnesses-Russia/29785245.html\n\n23. Tacitus, _Annals,_ 117 c.e.\n\n24. G. A. Wells, _The Historical Evidence for Jesus,_ (Buffalo: Prometheus Books, 1982) 17\n\n25. Mathew 26: 3-5\n\n26. Alexander Chernykh, \"We Are the Same\"\n\n27. Doug Bandow, \"Persecutors Pile on Jehovah's Witnesses, in Russia and Worldwide,\" _nationalreview.com_ , March 1, 2019, assessed March 21, 2019, https://www.nationalreview.com/2019/03/jehovahs-witnesses-persecuted-russia-worldwide\n\n28. Willie Fautre, \"Cults and Religious Freedom Around the World,\" address to the ICSA Annual International Conference, Montreal Canada, July 5-7, 2012, accessed March 21, 2019, https://www.academia.edu/5201173/Cult_Issues_and_Religous_Freedom\n\n29. \"An Act of Faith in the Operating Room,\" _New_ _Scientist_ , April 26, 2008\n\n30. See the category https://www.tomsheepandgoats.com/pedophiles (by this author)\n\n31. Doug Bandow, \"Persecutors Pile\"\n\n32. \"The Examination Found No Signs of Torture in the Follower of \"Jehovah's Witnesses,\" _RIA_ _Novosti_ , Moscow, March 21, 2019\n\n33. Emily Puckering, Priests Air Bomb Russian City with Holy Water to Stop 'Drinking' and 'Fornication.' https://twentytwowords.com\n\n34. Alec Luhn, \"'We Liked to Sing. Now We Can Only Whisper.' How Russia is Stepping Up Its Persecution of Jehovah's Witnesses,\" _Time_ , December 19, 2019\n\n35. Paul Goble, \"2019 Year of Defeats for Religious Life and Human Rights Movement in Russia, Ponomaryev Says,\" _windowoneurasia2.blogspot.com,_ December 28, 2019, for Russian test, see https://credo.press/228321\n\n36. Paul Goble, \"A baker's Dozen of Russian Political Anecdotes for 2019,\" _windowoneurasia2.blogspot.com,_ December 30, 2019\n\n37. \"In Kaluga, the appeals court found violations and discrimination in the case of Dmitry Kuzin. It will consider the new composition of the court,\" _Jehovah's Witness in Russia,_ September 19, 2019\n\n38. \"Linguists of Vyatka University qualified as 'extremist' 29th verse of the 36th psalm of the Old Testament, _https://credo.press/226135,_ August 14, 2019,\n\n39. \"You don't need to be ashamed of your faith, but, on the contrary, you need to rejoice.\" The last word of Konstantin Bazhenov at a trial in Saratov, _Jehovah's Witnesses in Russia,_ October 9, 2019\n\n40. Daria Litvinova, Associated Press, \"Jehovah's Witnesses report convictions, torture in Russia,\" _seattletimes.com,_ February. 14, 2020\n\nThe End\n\nThank you for reading \"Dear Mr. Putin – Jehovah's Witnesses Write Russia.\"\n\nIf you enjoyed it, won't you please take a moment to leave it a review at your favorite retailer? Seriously. In a reading world of endless choices, reviews help ensure that a good book survives.\n\n###\n\nReturn to Table of Contents\n\n# Final Acknowledgements\n\nThis book started as but the germ of an idea. I was posting snippets about what was unfolding with my fellow Witnesses in Russia when it occurred to me to assemble them into something more substantial. A short brochure-like release was all that I had in mind, headed by a somber melodramatic cover to bewail an irreligious iron curtain that was once again descending upon Russia. Each new report expanded the narrative as the project steadily grew. In time, I discarded the somber melodramatic cover because what is somber for us isn't equally somber for others and for some it is not somber at all. The simple fact of the matter is that there are thousands of atrocities to choose from today, and to insist that your cause is head and shoulders above all others is to invite audience fatigue.\n\nBut even for Jehovah's Witnesses the melodramatic iron curtain is not appropriate. In their minds and hearts the falling curtain does not prevail. It prevails at first, of course, as it crashes upon their toes. But Witnesses are, by and large, a happy people, reflecting the nature of the God they worship, and they tend to adjust quickly to the new normal. They never expected that their Christian message and worship would be unopposed in the first place. This is especially true in Russia where, except for the last 27 years, it has been continually outlawed. Non-Russian Witnesses were taken aback that their deluge of letters had so little effect on government officials. Russian Witnesses said: 'So what else is new?' They yet laugh a lot. They have set their sights on Jesus, who was not paraded around on the shoulders of Pilate and the Romans as Mr. Popular.\n\nThe original posts, in some cases in their entireties, are to be found in the second and third chapters of this book. The project expanded from brochure to book when I realized that the reasons for anti-Witness sentiment were for the most part absent from court proceedings. Plainly, decisions had been made in high places and it was for the courts to provide legal cover after the fact. Some of the reasons, specifically those of 'cult' perception, do not even originate in Russia. I decided to devote a chapter to each proffered reason, accompanied by a defense. Jehovah's Witnesses can hardly be as bad as some make them out to be because the Devil is not that bad. Moreover, they stand practically alone in that they refuse to pick up arms against their fellow humans for any reason. How bad can they be? A goal of being essentially an apologist for the modern Christian organization gradually took shape, not unlike the apologists of the early centuries after Christ.\n\nA few brief thanks are in order.\n\nWriters do not ever truly forget that of which they are writing. They are always turning it over in their heads, always weighing the advisability of this new phrasing or that redundant passage that ought to go. Their loved ones, assuming they have some, see them in their chair and it really appears that they are there. But they are not. They are miles away. The reason popular song writers suffer untimely deaths is that, as they are writing their latest love song, their significant other peers over their shoulder and asks: \"Are you writing about me, dear?\" It can even happen for more noble ideas that are nurtured day in and day out. I am blessed enough to have loved ones, and I begin to see why authors frequently thank, first of all, their spouses, for lovingly putting up with them. I do it too.\n\nSeveral besides my wife both made helpful suggestions to the text and assisted in its proofreading. I thank Veronica Coulston, the Witness of chapter one, who visits Czechoslovakia, for her assistance with several chapters. Melinda Mills came on board late in the game as proofreader, but soon out-proofed them all. Because she came on board late, there was not too much to do, but still she would capitalize a word here, reverse subject and predicate there, and every so often, like Amadeus reviewing the chunky composition of the house musician, say \"That doesn't quite work, does it?\" and would fix it on the fly, making suggestions that I accepted in almost every instance. Sometimes she would even help me out when I bolloxed quotes within quotes—nested quotes, like the matryoshka dolls. In her working days, she assisted in some technical publications of the Food and Agriculture Organization of the U.N, which leads me to wonder whether I owe a debt of gratitude to the organization I called the wild beast a few pages back.\n\nDaniel Metz has traveled in Russia as well as China, and he has served as my house translator. I must qualify that I only used his translation talents a handful of times; mostly his contribution was to keep me from saying something un-Russian and dumb. If I do not specify that he served only as occasional translator, the reader may look at my Russian quotes and surmise that _he_ must be dumb. No. That was AI doing the chunky translations, which I retained with a muddled Western sense that it 'sounds' more Russian. Of course, I risk the wrath of Russians themselves, who may say \"Why are you portraying us as Boris and Natasha from the Bullwinkle cartoons?\" My answer is that in some ways I never really grew up and I am still fond of those cartoons—no disrespect is intended. Besides, it is consistent with my overall subtheme that the world is play and few chapters are to be taken too seriously.\n\nHow much can Russians expect from a Westerner? These days media in the West foam with fury at Russia, and I have not gone there at all. I yet regard Ilya Kuryakin, of 'The Man from U.N.C.L.E.' (United Network of Criminal Law Enforcement) as my Russian template. He was a Scottish actor, but they gave him an odd haircut, told him to talk funny, and for my money as a child, he made a convincing Russian superspy, even though I recall reading in Pravda or somewhere that he was not very Russian at all and how could those stupid Americans think he was? He saved the day only slightly less than the American superspy he was doomed to play second fiddle to, and in real life, the actor who portrayed him came to settle in the tiny hamlet of Stanfordville N.Y, where some of my people originate, and the locals would say that he was just a regular guy.\n\nBill Underwood also lent me practical assistance, not with this book per se, but with ebook publishing in the first place and with periodic guidance thereafter. He is author of a pleasant tale called Resurrection Day, which plays with the notion of a character coming forth in the earthly resurrection and what he might encounter and in what order. Most Witnesses who have read the work like it, for it is a treasured theme, but a few have fretted that it \"goes beyond the things written.\" He admits it at the outset—it is just fun educated guesswork for those in the program—and he warns persons apt to be concerned over such things that they might want to stay away.\n\nReturn to Table of Contents\n\n# Endnotes\n\n## Introduction\n\n1. \"Inventing Extremists: The Impact of Russian Anti-Extremism Policies on Freedom of Religion or Belief,\" _United States Commission on International Religious Freedom_ , January 2018 _, 4_\n\n2. 'Hoosegow' is American slang for 'jail' that might not be known outside America. It brings up connotations of the lawless Old West, and that seems to me an appropriate connotation when dealing with the possible detainment of Jehovah's Witnesses on the grounds of extremism.\n\n3. Andrei Kuraev, \"Prohibition of Jehovah's Witnesses Undermines Trust in Court,\" To Truth, a project of the Tomsk Information and Consulting Center on the problems of sects and occultism, April 25, 2017\n\n4. John 10:18\n\n5. Kruaev, \"Prohibition of\"\n\n6. \"Refreshing Those Toiling and Loaded Down,\" JW Broadcasting, a seven-minute video presented at congregation meeting the week of January 28, 2018, accessed March 27, 2018, https://tv.jw.org/#en/mediaitems/pub-jwb_201705_4_VIDEO\n\n_7. \"Hebrew-flavored\" because the work of Nehemia Gordon suggests the name was pronounced \"Yehovah.\" One who has worked as a translator of the Dead Sea Scrolls, he and his research team have discovered hundreds of ancient_ documents with that complete pronunciation. See \"The Original Hebrew Name of God Re-Discovered in 1,000 Bible Manuscripts,\" _Religion News Service_ , January 25, 2018, accessed March 26, 2018, https://www.religionnews.com/2018/01/25/the-original-hebrew-name-of-god-re-discovered-in-1000-bible-manuscripts\n\n8. Jason Beduhn, _Truth in Translation: Accuracy and Bias in English Translations of the New Testament_ (Lanham, Maryland: University Press of America, 2003) 163\n\n9. Per a letter from the Governing Body read to all congregations during 2014, where it was noted that traveling ministers of the first century directly appointed congregation elders and did not defer the job to the apostles and presbyters in Jerusalem, citing verses as Acts 14:33 and the record of Titus and Timothy.\n\n10. Beduhn, _Truth in,_ 124-125\n\n11. Acts 17:18\n\n12. Thanks to American humorist Garrison Keillor here. Pastor Inqvist and his Catholic counterpart, Father Emil, were fixtures in Keillor's Tales from Lake Wobegon, his fictional Minnesota hometown, \"where all the men are strong, all the women are good-looking, and all the children are above average.\" The gentle humor of his two-hour weekly radio show landed him on the cover of Time magazine, which he spoofed with his song: \"Mr. Coverboy.\" He is a significant influence on my own writing.\n\n13. Hebrews 4:12\n\n14. See, for example, _The Watchtower_ , Feb 15, 2011, 8-9\n\n15. Joel Engardio, \"Filmmaker Statements\" to the 2006 documentary 'Knocking,' accessed March 26, 2018, http://www.pbs.org/independentlens/knocking/statement.html\n\n16. Melvin Eisenhower, as quoted in Modern Maturity Magazine. The quote also appears in Awake! Magazine, April 22, 1975. Additionally, the October 15, 1980 Watchtower tells of a World War II American soldier who became one of Jehovah's Witnesses while enlisted. Efforts to explain to his superiors his newfound neutrality went nowhere, so he resorted to writing a letter to the Supreme Commander of Allied Forces' (then the future President, Dwight D. Eisenhower) mother, Ida Eisenhower, which Awake! reprints.\n\n17. Gary Sloan, \"A Connecticut Yankee in God's Court: Mark Twain's Covert War with Religion,\" _Skeptic,_ vol. 8, no. 4, 2001. See also, for a moderating view on Twain's spiritual outlook: Tom Rapsis, \"It's Time to Take Mark Twain Back from the Atheists,\" _Wake-up Call_ , October 22, 2014, accessed March 26, 2018, http://www.patheos.com/blogs/wakeupcall/2014/10/its-time-to-take-mark-twain-back-from-the-atheists/\n\n18. Michael Hart, _The 100- A Ranking of the Most Influential Persons of History_ (New York: Citadel Press, 1992) 3-19, 17-21\n\n19. 1 Timothy: 21-2, Romans 13:3-4\n\n20. The 'Two Timothy' is deliberate. In seeking to rally the religious crowd, which politicians have done since the beginning of time, Trump cited 'Two Corinthians 3:17,' rather than 2 Corinthians 3:17. This employment of verse persuaded his audience that he was indeed one of them, though they conceded perhaps he was still growing as a Christian.\n\n21. Isaiah 5:20, Matthew 24:14\n\n22. \"A Brutal Attack on Believers in the Moscow Region on the Basis of Religious Hatred,\" _Jehovah's Witnesses in Russia_ , September 4, 2017, accessed March 26, 2018, Jehovah's Witnesses in Russia, https://jw-russia.org/news/17090416-211.html\n\n23. An African-American spiritual song, first published in 1867\n\n24. 1 Timothy 1:11\n\n25. 1 Corinthians 4:9\n\n26. Job 34:10\n\n27. Leonid Bershidsky, \"Jehovah's Witnesses Had Foes Before Putin,\" _Bloomberg.com_ , April 21, 2017, accessed March 26, 2018, https://www.bloomberg.com/view/articles/2017-04-21/jehovah-s-witnesses-had-foes-before-putin\n\n28. Exodus 4:10-16\n\nReturn to Table of Contents\n\n## Chapter 1 – The Soviets\n\n1. This was her expressed opinion, per personal email.\n\n2. Emily P. Baran, _Dissent on the Margins \\- How Jehovah's Witnesses Defied Communism and Lived to Preach About It_ (New York: Oxford University Press, 2014) 7\n\n3. Ezekiel 33:32\n\n4. Baran, _Dissent on_ , 131\n\n5. Ibid., 170\n\n6. Matthew 5:11\n\n7. Ibid., 91\n\n8. Ibid., 137\n\n9. Ibid., 60\n\n10. Ibid., 149\n\n11. Christopher M. Andrew, Vasili Mitrokhin, _The Sword and the Shield: The Mitrokhin Archive & the Secret History of the KGB_ (New York: Basic Books, 1999) as quoted in: Elizabeth A. Clark, \"Will Trump Confront Religious Repression in Russia?\" _Nationalreview.com_ , May 5, 2017\n\n12. Baran, _Dissent on_ , 87\n\n13. Ibid., 90\n\n14. 1 Peter 4:4\n\n15. Baran, _Dissent on_ , 67\n\n16. Ibid., 244\n\n17. Ibid., 151\n\n18. Ibid., 145\n\n19. 2 Timothy 3:16\n\n20. John 19:20\n\n21. Baron, _Dissent on_ , 246\n\n22. \"Inventing Extremists: The Impact of Russian Anti-Extremism Policies on Freedom of Religion or Belief,\" _United States Commission of International Religious Freedom_ , January 2018, 22\n\n23. Ibid., 19\n\n24. The film \"Espionage Under the Guise of Religion\" is included in the program \"Conspiracy Theory,\" _Television and Radio Broadcasting Company of the Armed Forces of the Russian Federation \"ZVEZDA\"_ _TV channel Star_ , October 17, 2017. See also \"TV Channel Zvezda Exposed Scientologists and Jehovah's Witnesses,\" _SOVA Center_ , October 23, 2017, accessed March 3, 2018 http://www.sova-center.ru/religion/news/harassment/theoretical-struggle/2017/10/d38118/ For English translation, see also, both accessed March 6, 2018, http://www2.stetson.edu/~psteeves/relnews/171023b.html and https://www2.stetson.edu/~psteeves/relnews/180202a.html\n\n25. Matthew 13:45\n\n26. Baran, _Dissent on_ , 88\n\n27. See YouVersion, _bible.com_ , NABRE Commentary at Acts 2:42, accessed March 6, 2018, https://www.bible.com/bible/463/ACT.2.nabre\n\n28. Acts 2:42-48\n\n29. Baran, _Dissent on_ , 131,172. Baran's examples are Russian, not Czech, but denial of education is a staple of totalitarian regimes. I am reminded of the film 'The Lives of Others,' incorporating in plotline the same threat of denial from the Stassi.\n\n30. Per conversation with Veronica Coelston, an American Witness who was born in Prague, emigrated from Czechoslovakia with her parents in 1968, and subsequently would return for summer vacations. She confirms the story through personal conversation with the one-time Coordinator of the Czech Bethel branch, who indicated it was a Br. Jiricka who witnessed to Havel.\n\n31. Baran, _Dissent on_ , 190\n\n32. Acts 17:20\n\n33.\n\n34. Baran, _Dissent on_ , 50, 140\n\n35. Matthew 26:52\n\n36.\n\n37. Baran, _Dissent_ on, 209\n\n38. For a Russian Orthodox example, Katerina Chernova writes in Suchan of those who \"murmur\" of \"priests in gold and jeeps, but candles in churches are only for contributions.\" Katerina Chernova, \"Jehovah's Witnesses: Are They Banned or Not?\" _Suchan_ , April 2017, as accessed March 26, 2018 at https://www2.stetson.edu/~psteeves/relnews/170426a.html\n\n39. Baran, _Dissent_ on, 210\n\n40. Tanya Lokshina, \"Draconian Law Rammed Through Russian Parliament,\" _Huffington Post_ , June 23, 2016, Accessed March 8, 2018, https://www.hrw.org/news/2016/06/23/draconian-law-rammed-through-russian-parliament\n\n41. Evgeny Berg, \"Russia's Controversial 'Yarovaya Package' Targets Missionaries, Threatens Privacy,\" _Legal Dialogue - Topics from Civil Society_ , November 2016. Accessed March 8, 2018, http://legal-dialogue.org/russias-controversial-yarovaya-package-targets-missionaries-threatens-privacy\n\n42. Roman Lunkin, \"Sacred Extremism. In the Theological Dispute About the Bible, the Court Supported Unscrupulous Experts,\" _Slavic Center for Law and Justice_ , December 2017. Accessed March 8, 2018, http://www.sclj.ru/news/detail.php?SECTION_ID=487&ELEMENT_ID=7732 For English translation: https://www2.stetson.edu/~psteeves/relnews/171221c.html\n\n43. Baran, _Dissent_ on, 209\n\n44. B. W. Shultz, Rachael de Vienne, _A Separate Identity: Organizational Identity Among Readers of Zion's Watch Tower: 1870-1887_ (Self-published, available widely: 2014) 19\n\n45: Matthew 23:9\n\n46.\n\n47. Baran, _Dissent_ on, 237-239\n\n48. Acts 17:6, Acts 21:28\n\n49. Baran, _Dissent on_ , 240\n\n50. Baran, _Dissent on_ , 222 Baran cites several surveys revealing mindsets far from Western minds: \"A 2003 survey of Russians found that 78 percent considered democracy \"a façade for a government controlled by rich and powerful cliques. Fifty-three percent stated that they disliked the idea of democracy.\" She cites another study of the same time period that found \"only 11 percent of respondents would not trade their basic freedoms for stability; 29 percent would forfeit these freedoms even without a promise of order.\"\n\n51. 1 Samuel chapter 8\n\n52. \"Putin says nothing can justify political persecution as Russia commemorates Stalin victims _,\" RT.com,_ October 30, 2017, Accessed 26, 2018, https://www.rt.com/news/408266-putin-stalin-persecution-memorial/\n\nReturn to Table of Contents\n\n## Chapter 2 – Campaign and Trial\n\n1. The lead character never actually implored witnesses with \"just the facts, ma'am,\" but variations of \"all we have are the facts, ma'am.\" I remember the former, a circumstance from which inferences may be drawn about memory (or Snopes).\n\n2. Luke 16:8\n\n3. \"They Broke Free from False Religion\" _The Watchtower – study edition_ , November 2016, 29\n\n4. \"International Experts Discredit Russia's \"Expert Analysis\" in Identifying \"Extremism\" _JW.org_ , November 28, 2016, https://www.jw.org/en/news/releases/by-region/russia/expert-analysis-identifying-extremism-discredited\n\n5. Nathan Glover, \"Russian Court Bans Jehovah's Witness Bible,\" _worldreligionnews.com_ , August 18, 2017, http://www.worldreligionnews.com/religion-news/russian-court-bans-jehovahs-witness-bible\n\n6. Willy Fautré, (Human Rights Without Frontiers), _hrwf.eu_ , Russian \"religious experts\" hired by a court against Jehovah's Witnesses have no academic credentials August 14, 2017, accessed March 26, 2018, http://hrwf.eu/wp-content/uploads/2017/11/Russian-%C2%AB-religious-experts-%C2%BB-hired-by-a-court-against-Jehovah%E2%80%99s-Witnesses-have-no-academic-credentials.pdf\n\n7. Press Release, \"Russia's Attack on Religious Freedom\" _Jehovah's Witnesses in Russia_ , March 5, 2017, accessed March 26, 2018, https://www.jw-russia.org/sites/default/files/russiareport_proof-3.pdf\n\n8. Video footage: \"Russian Authorities Fabricate Evidence to Charge Witnesses With Extremism,\" _JW Broadcasting_ , https://tv.jw.org/#en/mediaitems/docid-802016695_1_VIDEO\n\n9. Matthew 10:28\n\n10. Gemma Mullin, \"Saved Their Bacon: Touching Footage Shows Moment Brave Firefighters Rescue 150 Pigs and their Tiny Piglets from Huge Barn Fire in Russia,\" _thesun.co.uk,_ January 23, 2017, accessed March 26, 2018, https://www.thesun.co.uk/news/2679459/touching-footage-shows-moment-brave-firefighters-rescue-150-pigs-and-their-tiny-piglets-from-huge-barn-fire-in-russia/\n\n11. Matthew 25:31-46\n\n12. Matthew 10:17\n\n13. Chloe Farand, \"Russian Government Files Lawsuit Against Jehovah's Witnesses to Declare it an Extremist Group, _\" indedpendent.co.uk_ , March 17, 2017, accessed March 26, 2017, http://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/europe/russian-government-jehovahs-witnesses-extremist-group-lawsuit-supreme-court-a7634671.html. Separately, Vasiliy Kalin testified at the trial and said he was experiencing \"memories of the future.\"\n\n14. Acts 28:21-22\n\n15. Newsfeed: \"the Supreme Court of the Russian Federation is...\" _Portal Credo.ru_ , April 20, 2017, site accessed on March 21, 2018, http://www.portal-credo.ru/site/?act=news&id=125383. For English translation, see http://www2.stetson.edu/~psteeves/relnews/170420a.html\n\n15. Transcript: Corey Flintoff, Russia's Jehovah's Witnesses Fight 'Extremist' Label, Possible Ban, _All Things Considered_ , May 17, 2017, accessed March 26, 2018, https://www.npr.org/sections/parallels/2016/05/17/476898973/russias-jehovahs-witnesses-fight-extremist-label-possible-ban\n\n16. 2 Thessalonians 2:2, John 10:10\n\n17. Enelesi Mzanga, \"Life Story: Jehovah Always Cares for Us,\" _The_ _Watchtower_ , September 1, 2003, 23\n\n18. _Time Magazine_ , December 18, 1972, 98\n\n19. Special to the New York Times: \"Jehovah's Witnesses Complain They're Persecuted in Malawi,\" New York Times, December 6, 1975, accessed March 26, 2018, http://www.nytimes.com/1975/12/06/archives/jehovahs-witnesses-complain-theyre-persecuted-in-malawi.html\n\n20. Revelation 1:8\n\n21. Emily P. Baran, _Dissent on the Margins \\- How Jehovah's Witnesses Defied Communism and Lived to Preach About It_ (New York: Oxford University Press, 2014) 111\n\n22. Video Presentation: \"Be Loyal, as Jesus Was,\" _JW Broadcasting_ , accessed March 26, 2018, https://tv.jw.org/#en/mediaitems/2016Convention/pub-jwbcov_201605_2_VIDEO\n\n23. Study Guide of the Holocaust Teacher Resource Center, originally a pamphlet of the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum: \"Jehovah's Witnesses,\" _United States Holocaust Memorial Museum_ , Washington D.C. 20024-2150, accessed March 26, 2018, http://www.holocaust-trc.org/jehovahs-witnesses/\n\n24. News Feed, _Porto-credo.ru_ , December 28, 2017, Accessed March 8, 2017, http://www.portal-credo.ru/site/?act=news&id=129229 For English translation see http://www2.stetson.edu/~psteeves/relnews/171228a.html\n\n25. Press release: \"UN rights experts urge Russia to drop Jehovah's Witness lawsuit which threatens religious freedom,\" _United Nations Human Rights – Office of the High Commissioner_ , Geneva, April 4, 2017, accessed March 26, 2018, http://www.ohchr.org/EN/NewsEvents/Pages/DisplayNews.aspx?NewsID=21479&LangID=E\n\n26. Elizabeth Dias, \"Russian Supreme Court Considers Outlawing Jehovah's Witness Worship,\" Time Magazine, April 4, 2017, accessed March 26, 2018, http://time.com/4723456/jehovahs-witness-russia-supreme-court/\n\n27. The Supreme Court Hearing commenced April 5th and concluded with a decision to liquidate the Witness organization on April 20th. It represents less 'court time' than meets the eye, as many days were adjourned. The Memorial of Christ's Death fell upon one of those days (April 10th) and Russian Witnesses were grateful to celebrate it without incident. The Memorial, observed annually, is the only meeting of Jehovah's Witnesses that might conceivably be called ceremonial.\n\n28. Elizabeth Dias, \"Russian Supreme Court\"\n\n29. Amanda Erickson, \"Russia Labels 'Jehovah's Witnesses' as Extremists and Tries to Ban Them from the Country,\" _Washington Post_ , April 14, 2017, accessed March 26, 2018, https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/worldviews/wp/2017/04/14/russia-labels-jehovahs-witnesses-as-extremists-and-tries-to-ban-them-from-the-country/?utm_term=.506e99076f23\n\n30. Elizabeth Dias, \"Russian Supreme Court\"\n\n31. Press release: \"Jehovah's Witnesses Mobilize Global Response to Threat of Ban in Russia,\" _Jehovah's Witnesses World Headquarters_ , March 21, 2017, search: JW.org\n\n32. Matthew 5:23\n\n33. Acts 26:25-29\n\n34. He caught a lot of heat for it, too. The home team ever assumes it alone is the most virtuous: Sophie Tatum, \"Trump Defends Putin: 'You Think Our Country's so Innocent?'\" _CNN_ , February 6, 2017, accessed March 26, 2018, https://www.cnn.com/2017/02/04/politics/donald-trump-vladimir-putin/index.html\n\n35. The Jewish historian Josephus relates that Cyrus of the Persians was shown a portion of Scripture highlighting what he was foretold to do and was apparently much influenced by it.\n\n36. \"Pure Worship Under Attack in Russia,\" JW Broadcasting, Accessed March 8, 2018, https://tv.jw.org/#en/categories/VODOurOrganization\n\n37. Psalm 137:7\n\n38. Philippians 1:15-18\n\n39. Esther 6:1-3\n\n40. One on the list whose heart decidedly did not melt was Russian Minister Sergey Lavrov, as evidenced at a later press conference. Press Service – The Minister's Meetings, \"The Ministry of Foreign Affairs of the Russian Federation,\" July 12, 2017, accessed March 8, 2018, http://www.mid.ru/en/vizity-ministra/-/asset_publisher/ICoYBGcCUgTR/content/id/2981131\n\n41. Oobleck was bad stuff, a new type of weather sent to a bellyaching king who was sick of the existing seasons and wanted something new to fall from the sky. It was green and stuck to everything, paralyzing his entire kingdom. He came to regret his rashness. It is from the 1949 Dr. Seuss (Theodor Geisel) book, _Bartholomew and the Oobleck,_ a childhood favorite.\n\n42. An accusation made by prominent U.S. Senator John McCain. It proved to have durability for reasons having more to do with American politics than with Putin himself.\n\n43. Andrew Buncombe, \"Trump Order Missile Strike on Syria After Chemical Weapon Attack on Civilians,\" _Independent_ , Friday April 7, accessed March 26, 2018, http://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/americas/us-tomahawk-missiles-syria-reports-latest-donald-trump-homs-bashar-al-assad-russia-a7671411.html\n\n44. \"War With Germany: US Enters WW1 on this Day in 1917,\" _RT.com_ , accessed March 26, 2018, April 6, 2017, https://www.RT.com/usa/383775-usa-enters-ww1-wilson-debs/\n\n45. On April 3rd, a terrorist attack on the St. Petersburg metro killed 15 and injured 45. There was the Syrian missile strike related in narrative. And on almost a daily basis during that time, Kim Jung Un and Donald Trump were exchanging taunts about nuclear weapons.\n\n46. Jeremiah 26:7-16\n\n47. Hebrews 11: 33-38\n\n48. Luke 23:4-5\n\n49. Elizabeth Dias, \"Russian Supreme Court Considers Outlawing Jehovah's Witness Worship,\" _Time Magazine_ , April 4, 2017, accessed March 26, 2018, http://time.com/4723456/jehovahs-witness-russia-supreme-court/\n\n50. Acts 18:12-16\n\n51. A detailed description of that first trial, proceedings updated approximately every 5 minutes, can be found in the tweets Anton Chivchalov starting April 5, 2017, and also _Jehovah's Witnesses in Russia_ , accessed March 27, 2018, https://www.jw-russia.org/pages/17040614-132.html. The latter is a news only site run by Jehovah's Witnesses in Russian and it appears to have been overlooked by authorities until it was banned in March of 2018.\n\n52. _Jehovah's Witnesses in Russia_ , accessed March 8, 2018, https://www.jw-russia.org/news/17050117-152.html\n\n53. Acts 28:22\n\n54. Luke 21:12-13\n\n55. \"Pure Worship Under Attack in Russia\" _tv.jw.org_ , April 20, 2017, accessed March 26, 2018, https://tv.jw.org/#en/mediaitems/OrganizationFeatured/pub-jwb_201801_12_VIDEO\n\n56. Acts 4:13-20\n\n57. Acts 26:26\n\n58. Psalm 2:2\n\n59. 1 Peter 2:19\n\n60. Matthew 14:13\n\nReturn to Table of Contents\n\n## Chapter 3 – Appeal\n\n1. Transcript: Steve Inskeep - Host, \"Russia Labels Jehovah's Witnesses An Extremist Group,\" _Morning Edition_ , April 21, 2017, accessed March 17, 2018, http://www.npr.org/2017/04/21/525010796/russia-labels-jehovahs-witnesses-an-extremist-group\n\n2. \"Serve Jehovah With a Complete Heart,\" _The Watchtower – study edition,_ March 2017, 21\n\n3. \"What Do the witnesses of Jehovah Have in St. Petersburg?\" _MK in Peter_ , May 5, 2017, accessed March 8, 2018, http://spb.mk.ru/print/article/1655820/ For English translation, see https://www2.stetson.edu/~psteeves/relnews/170505b.html\n\n4. Lisa Mullins, Interview: \"Russian Government Cracking Down On Jehovah's Witnesses,\" _NPR_ , April 28, 2017, accessed March 22, 2018, http://www.wbur.org/hereandnow/2017/04/28/russia-jehovahs-witnesses\n\n5. Lauren Markoe and Fred Weir, \"Persecution in Russia and Kazakhstan worsens for Jehovah's Witnesses,\" _The Christian Century_ , May 23, 2017, accessed March 22, 2018, https://www.christiancentury.org/article/persecution-russia-and-kazakhstan-worsens-jehovah%E2%80%99s-witnesses\n\n6. \"The Family of Jehovah's Witnesses Took the Order From the Hands of the Head of State,\" _Jehovah's Witnesses in Russia_ , June 6, 2017, accessed March 8, 2018, https://jw-russia.org/news/17060606-176.html\n\n7. Proverbs 22:6\n\n8. Joel Engardio, \"Russia's Bans on Jehovah's Witnesses,\" _American Civil Liberties Union_ , December 10, 2009, https://www.aclu.org/blog/russias-bans-jehovahs-witnesses\n\n9. Esther 6:1-3\n\n10. Hana M. Ryman and J. Mark Alcorn: \"Pledge of Allegiance,\" _The First Amendment Encyclopedia_ , accessed March 22, 2018, https://mtsu.edu/first-amendment/article/1137/pledge-of-allegiance\n\n11. Esther 4:14\n\n12. Ray Hamilton Abrams, _Preachers Present Arms_ (Round Table Press, Incorporated, 1933) 184\n\n13. Victoria Odissonova, \"God Just has not Finished - 4 Days Before the Ban of 'Jehovah's Witnesses' in Russia,\" _Novaya Gazeta_ , No. 75, July 14, 2017, accessed March 22, 2018, https://www.novayagazeta.ru/articles/2017/07/13/73105-bog-prosto-esche-ne-doigral\n\n14. _God's Kingdom Rules_ (Brooklyn: Watchtower Bible and Tract Society of Pennsylvania, 2014) 146-147\n\n15. Ibid., 143\n\n16. Ibid., 143-144\n\n17. Ibid., 138-139\n\n18. Ibid., 158-159\n\n19. Vladimir Dergachev, Anna Kovalenko, \"Majority of Russians Support Ban of Jehovah's Witnesses,\" _RBC News Agency_ , July 13, 2017, accessed March 8, 2018, https://www.rbc.ru/politics/13/07/2017/596650c09a79477e58e67e98?from=newsfeed. For English translation, see http://www2.stetson.edu/~psteeves/relnews/170713d.html\n\n20. _2017 Yearbook of Jehovah's Witnesses_ , (Brooklyn, Watchtower Bible and Tract Society of Pennsylvania, 2017) 143\n\n21. Michael Lipka, \"U.S. Religious Groups and Their Political Leanings,\" _Pew Research Center_ , February 23, 2016, accessed March 9, 2018, http://www.pewresearch.org/fact-tank/2016/02/23/u-s-religious-groups-and-their-political-leanings\n\n22. Andreas Rinke and Denis Pinchuk, \"Putin, Merkel, Struggle to Move Past Differences in Tense Meeting,\" _Reuters_ , May 2, 2017, accessed March 22, 2018, https://www.reuters.com/article/us-russia-germany-putin-syria/putin-merkel-struggle-to-move-past-differences-in-tense-meeting-idUSKBN17Y1JC\n\n23. Shaun Walker, Russia Investigates 'Gay Purge' in Chechnya, _theguardian.com_ , May 26, 2017, accessed March 22, 2018, https://www.theguardian.com/world/2017/may/26/russia-investigates-gay-purge-in-chechnya\n\n24. Joshua Gill, \"The French Conspiracy With The Russian Orthodox Church That Destroyed The Jehovah's Witnesses,\" _The Daily Caller_ , July 23, 2017, accessed March 22, 2018, http://dailycaller.com/2017/07/23/the-french-connection-how-the-russian-orthodox-church-and-the-putin-administration-colluded-with-a-french-ngo-to-destroy-the-jehovahs-witnesses/\n\n25. \"In Moscow, Will Launch a Mobile Application With a Map of Religious Objects Before the End of the Year,\" _TASS News Agency_ , November 27, 2017, accessed March 9, 2018, http://tass.ru/obschestvo/4762790\n\n26. Jason Le Miere, \"Russia's Jehovah's Witnesses Ban Backed by Flourishing Satanic Church in Moscow,\" _Newsweek_ , May 12, 2017, accessed March 22, 2018, http://www.newsweek.com/jehovahs-witnesses-russia-ban-satanic-church-608334\n\n27. Leonid Bershidsky, \"Jehovah's Witnesses Had Foes Before Putin,\" _Bloomberg.com_ , April 21, 2017, https://www.bloomberg.com/view/articles/2017-04-21/jehovah-s-witnesses-had-foes-before-putin\n\n28. Mathew 5:15\n\n29. Isaiah 43:10\n\n30. Psalm 83;18\n\n31. Anton Chivchalov, a tweet, December 6, 2017, accessed March 9, 2018, https://twitter.com/Chivchalov/status/938343479016554496\n\n32. https://www.alexa.com/siteinfo/jw.org One must not read too much into this, for there are constant fluctuations. Nonetheless, each spike (see the insert at web page bottom) reaches a new plateau that holds.\n\n33. Acts 8:1-4\n\nReturn to Table of Contents\n\n## Chapter 4 - Aftermath\n\n1. A detailed description of the appeal, proceedings updated approximately every 5 minutes, can be found in the tweets Anton Chivchalov starting July 17, 2017, and also _Jehovah's Witnesses in Russia_ , accessed March 27, 2018, https://jw-russia.org/news/17071710-194.html. The latter is a news only site run by Jehovah's Witnesses in Russian and it appears to have been overlooked by authorities until it was banned in March of 2018. [edit: and then unbanned 3 months later]\n\n2. Galatians 1:23\n\n3. Ephesians 6:12\n\n4. Roman Lunkin, \"'Do Not Dig a Hole to Another' ... The Ban on Jehovah's Witnesses in Russia Became a Symbol of Senseless Discrimination Against Believers,\" _Slavic Center for Law and Justice,_ July 19, 2017, accessed March 22, 2018, http://www.sclj.ru/news/detail.php?SECTION_ID=478&ELEMENT_ID=7649\n\n5. Video Presentation: \"Be Loyal, as Jesus Was,\" _JW Broadcasting_ , https://tv.jw.org/#en/mediaitems/2016Convention/pub-jwbcov_201605_2_VIDEO\n\n6. Psalm 2:1-5\n\n7. Jeremiah 36:23\n\n8. Matthew 27:19\n\n9. Anna Bogdanova, \"The Police Raided the Tent Camp on the Ob Sea - They Suspect that They are Jehovah's Witnesses,\" _NGS News_ , July 19, 2017, accessed March 9, 2017, http://news.ngs.ru/more/50646921/For English translation, see http://www2.stetson.edu/~psteeves/relnews/170719e.html\n\n10. Bogdanova, \"The Police,\" comment section of article, assessed March 9, 2018, http://news.ngs.ru/comments/50646921/. Jason Le Miere, \"Jehovah's Witnesses in Russia: Danish Citizen Faces up to 10 Years in Prison After Bible Reading,\" _Newsweek_ , May 30, 2017, http://www.newsweek.com/jehovahs-witnesses-russia-ban-prison-617747\n\n11. Denis Volin, \"'I Eat a Piece of Bread and Wash from a Bottle' The Regional Court Left Christensen in Custody Until the End of November,\" _Orel News_ , September 29, 2017, accessed March 22, 2018, http://newsorel.ru/fn_293469.html\n\n13. Press Release, The Embassy of the Russian Federation to the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland: \"Embassy Press Officer on Lord Ahmad's comments regarding the judicial ban of Jehova's Witnesses in Russia,\" July 19, 2017, accessed March 22, 2018, https://www.rusemb.org.uk/fnapr/6172\n\n14. Matthew 5:11-12, brackets that of NABRE\n\n15. 2 Corinthians 12:10\n\n16. 1 Corinthians 1:19\n\n14. John 3:19,\n\n18. Isaiah 60:17\n\n19. \"The trial of the Bible is resumed in Vyborg on July 28,\" July 27, 2017, _Jehovah's Witnesses in Russia_ , accessed March 22, 2018, https://www.jw-russia.org/news/17072718-198.html\n\n20. Anton Chivchalov, \"The trial of the Bible is resumed in Vyborg,\" _Porta-Credo_ , July 26, 2017, accessed March 9, 2018, http://credo.press/site/?act=news&id=126993\n\n21. Ibid.\n\n22. Eduard Burmistrov, Extremism in the Bible: How Does the Prosecutor's Office Prohibit the Jehovah's Writ of Scripture,\" _openrussia.org_ , August 10, 2017, https://openrussia.org/notes/712533\n\n23. Alexander Dvorkin, \"The Decision of the Vyborg Court to Recognize the New World Translation as a Extremist Material is a Huge Mistake,\" _Pravoslavie.ru_ , August 22, 2017, accessed March 22, 2018, http://pravoslavie.ru/105915.html\n\n24. Platon Prohorov, \"Moving for AntiChrist,\" _RelioPolis_ , August 9, 2017, accessed March 9, 2018, http://religiopolis.org/publications/11821-kovrik-dlya-antikhrista-09082017.html, For English translation, see https://www2.stetson.edu/~psteeves/relnews/170809a.html\n\n25. Dvorkin, Alexander, \"The Decision,\"\n\n26. Ibid.\n\n27. \"Uphold Jehovah's Sovereignty,\" _The Watchtower – study edition_ , June 1, 2017, 28\n\n28. Dvorkin, \"The Decision\"\n\n29. Ibid.\n\n30. Acts 16:4-5\n\n31. Dvorkin, \"The Decision\"\n\n32. Job 2:4-5\n\n33. Proverbs 27:11\n\n34. \"Prominent Russian Punk Rocker Defects To U.S. Over Jehovah's Witnesses Ban,\" _RadioFreeEuropeRadioLiberty_ , July 31, 2017, accessed March 9, 2017, https://www.rferl.org/a/russia-punk-chistyakov-defects-u-s-jehovah-witnesses/28650645.html\n\n35. Fedor Chistyakov: \"Russia is the Freest Country - You Can Adopt the Constitution and Throw it Away,\" _Petersburg Internet Newspaper_ , July 31, 2017, accessed March 9, 2018, http://www.fontanka.ru/2017/07/31/127/, For English translation, see https://www2.stetson.edu/~psteeves/relnews/170731b.html\n\n36. \"Prominent Russian,\" _RadioFreeEuropeRadioLiberty_\n\n37. Leader of the Group Zero Decided Not to Return to Russia Because of the Ban on Jehovah's Witnesses, _portal-credo.ru_ , July 31, 2017, accessed March 9, 2018, http://www.portal-credo.ru/site/?act=news&id=127042, For English translation, see https://www2.stetson.edu/~psteeves/relnews/170731b.html\n\n38. The most complete account of Prince's JW life, to my knowledge, is found in my own book, _Tom Irregardless and Me_ (Smashwords.com Search: Tom Harley), chapter 1.\n\n39. Jan Shenkman, \"Why Fedor Chistyakov left Russia,\" _Novaya Gazeta_ , July 31, 2017, accessed March 23, 2018, https://www.novayagazeta.ru/articles/2017/07/31/73296-pochemu-fedor-chistyakov-pokinul-rossiyu\n\n40. Ephesians 6:12\n\n41. Tara Isabella Burton, \"Jehovah's Witnesses are Banned in Russia. That Doesn't Stop Them From Worshipping,\" _Vox_ , August 24, 2017, accessed March 23, 2018, https://www.vox.com/identities/2017/8/24/16095496/jehovahs-witnesses-banned-russia-still-worshipping\n\n42. Dmitry Matveyev, \"Without Witnesses. How Will the Jehovah's Witnesses Live After the Ban in Russia,\" _The Telegraf_ , April 28, 2017, accessed March 10, 2018, https://rustelegraph.ru/news/2017-04-28/Bez-svidetelei-kak-budut-zhit-iegovisty-posle-zapreta-v-Rossii-73659, for English translation, see http://www2.stetson.edu/~psteeves/relnews/170428d.html\n\n43. Mathew 26:10\n\n44. Burton, \"Jehovah's Witnesses\"\n\n45. Burton, \"Jehovah's Witnesses are\"\n\n46. Romans 13:1-7\n\n47. Burton, \"Jehovah's Witnesses are\"\n\n48. Crestnaija, \"JW: Jehovah's Witnesses Arrested for Taking a Walk,\" _Crest Global Media_ , September 9, 2017, accessed March 23, 2018, https://crest9ja.blogspot.com/2017/09/jw-jehovahs-witnesses-arrested-for.html\n\n49. \"Mass Searches and Criminal cases against Believers in Kemerovo and Belgorod - with Reference to the Decision of the Supreme Court of the Russian Federation,\" _Jehovah's Witnesses in Russia,_ February 9, 2018, accessed March 23, 2018, https://jw-russia.org/news/18020917-286.html\n\n50. Blog Post: Anton Chivchalov Blog, September 7, 2017, Accessed March 10, 2018, https://www.facebook.com/ScandicJHWH/posts/1090342934433433\n\n51. Mark Sanderson: Russian Convention Travel Report, _JW Broadcasting_ , accessed March 23, 2018, https://tv.jw.org/#en/mediaitems/LatestVideos/pub-jwb_201709_12_VIDEO\n\nReturn to Table of Contents\n\n## Chapter 5 – Endurance\n\n1. Joel Engardio, \"Russia's Bans on Jehovah's Witnesses,\" _ACLU_ , December 10, 2009, accessed March 23, 2018, https://www.aclu.org/blog/russias-bans-jehovahs-witnesses\n\n2. Haig Bosmajian, _The Freedom Not to Speak_ (New York, NYU Press, 1999) 112\n\n3. Ibid., 114\n\n4. \"After the Decision of the Supreme Court, the Pressure on Children of Jehovah's Witnesses Increased in Schools,\" _Jehovah's Witnesses in Russia,_ May 15, 2017, accessed March 12, 2018, https://www.jw-russia.org/news/17051512-161.html\n\n5. James Alfred Moss, _Patriotism of the Flag, Moss, The Flag of the United States, Its History and Symbolism_ (Washington: The United States Flag Association, 1941) 85-86\n\n6. W. C. Ruediger, The George Washington University, 49 Schools and Society, February 25, 1939, p. 249, as located the post: Minersville School District v Gobitis, accessed March 23,2018, https://www.leagle.com/decision/1939791108f2d6831582\n\n7. Lauren Markoe, \"Persecution of Jehovah's Witnesses in Russia Intensifies and Targets Children,\" _Salt Lake City Tribune, Religion News Service_ , accessed March 23, 2018, June 2, 2017, http://archive.sltrib.com/article.php?id=5358906&itype=CMSID\n\n8. Andrew Sorokowski, \"Witnesses to Persecution,\" _Religious Information Service of Ukraine,_ May 5, 2017, accessed March 23, 2018, https://risu.org.ua/article_print.php?id=66964&name=asorokowski_column&_lang=en&\n\n9. Ibid.\n\n10. Joseph Curl, \"A New Low: CNN Says Russian Meddling Extended To Pokemon Go,\" _Daily Wire_ , October 13, 2017, accessed March 23, 2018, https://www.dailywire.com/news/22235/new-low-cnn-says-russian-meddling-extended-pokemon-joseph-curl#\n\n11. \"Coverage of Double Agent's Alleged Poisoning is Hysterical Propaganda – Lavrov,\" _RT.com_ , March 9, 2018, accessed March 12, 2018, https://www.RT.com/news/420842-double-agent-poisoning-skripal/\n\n12. Press Service – The Minister's Meetings, \"The Ministry of Foreign Affairs of the Russian Federation,\" July 12, 2017, accessed March 8, 2018, http://www.mid.ru/en/vizity-ministra/-/asset_publisher/ICoYBGcCUgTR/content/id/2981131\n\n13. \"Laicite And Religious Freedom: A Coalition of NGOs Questions France at the United Nations,\" Human Rights Without Frontiers, January 16, 2018, accessed March 12, 2018, http://hrwf.eu/laicite-and-religious-freedom-a-coalition-of-ngos-questions-france-at-the-united-nations/\n\n14. Bakanov Konstantin, \"Cult Icon of Russian Rock Fedor Chistyakov Settling in the US, Recorded the Album 'Unwanted Song',\" _sobesednik.ru_ , March 6, 2018, accessed March 10, 2018, https://sobesednik.ru/kultura-i-tv/20180306-okolo-nolya\n\n15. Mathew 24:14\n\n16. Amos 7:12-15\n\n17. John 15:20\n\n18. Viktor Tolochko , \"OSCE PA Supports Russia's Proposed Resolution Against Religious Discrimination,\" _Sputnik News_ , August 8, 2017, 15. accessed March 23, 2018, https://sputniknews.com/world/201707081055363864-osce-russia-resolution/\n\n19. Lu Daji and Gong Xuezeng, Marxism and Religion (Leiden, Kininklijke Brill N V, Ethnic Publishing House, 2014) 284\n\n20. Viktor Rezunkov and Tatyana Voltskaya, \"15 Years Later, Questions Remain About Death Of The Man Who Made Putin,\" _RadioFreeEurope RadioLiberty_ , February 24, 2015, accessed March 23, 2018, https://www.rferl.org/a/questions-remain-about-death-of-man-who-made-putin/26867539.html\n\n21. \"The Prosecutor's Office brought official apologies to the Sergiev Posad Elders,\" _Jehovah's Witnesses in Russia_ , November 7, 2017, accessed March 23, 2018, https://jw-russia.org/news/17110712-228.html\n\n22. \"The Court of Appeal confirmed the acquittal of the Sergiev Posad Elders,\" _Jehovah's Witnesses in Russia,_ August 24, 2017, accessed March 23, 2018, https://jw-russia.org/news/17082417-208.html\n\n23. Olga Nikitova, \"Malignant Expertise,\" _The Agency of Political News_ , September 20, 2017, accessed March 12, 2018, http://www.apn.ru/index.php?newsid=36670\n\n24. _Jehovah's Witnesses – Proclaimers of God's Kingdom_ (Brooklyn: Watchtower Bible and Tract Society of Pennsylvania) 447\n\n25. Luke 4:22 The verse states those in the synagogue were amazed at Jesus 'gracious' words. The 2013 NWT also says gracious. But the 1981 edition says 'winsome' and it is from this choice that someone devised the winsome/wincing witticism.\n\n26. Jeremiah 1:6-10\n\n27. Proverbs 21:1\n\n28. Esther 4:12-14\n\n29. Galatians 1:23\n\n30. 1 Timothy 1:13\n\n31. _2008 Yearbook of Jehovah's Witnesses_ , 70\n\n32. Video Report: \"Pure Worship Under Attack in Russia,\" _JW Broadcasting_ , accessed March 23, 2018, https://tv.jw.org/#en/mediaitems/pub-jwb_201801_12_VIDEO\n\n33. Denis Korotkov, \"The Paradox of the Exile of Jehovah,\" _Fontanka.ru_ , December 8, 2017, accessed March 23, 2018, http://www.fontanka.ru/2017/12/08/047/\n\n34. Korotkov, \"The Paradox\"\n\n35. Alexander Dvorkin, The Decision of the Vyborg Court to Recognize the New World Translation as a Extremist Material is a Huge Mistake,\" _Pravoslavie.ru_ , August 22, 2017, accessed March 23, 2018, http://pravoslavie.ru/105915.html\n\n36. Anton Chivchalov, \"The trial of the Bible is resumed in Vyborg,\" Porta-Credo, July 26, 2017, accessed March 9, 2018, http://credo.press/site/?act=news&id=126993...\n\n37. \"Pure Worship Under Attack,\" _JW Broadcasting,_ accessed March 27, 2018, https://tv.jw.org/#en/mediaitems/pub-jwb_201801_12_VIDEO\n\n38. A detailed description of the proceedings, updated approximately every 5 minutes, can be found in the tweets Anton Chivchalov, starting https://twitter.com/Chivchalov/status/943447491768410114, and also _Jehovah's Witnesses in Russia_ , accessed March 27, 2018, https://jw-russia.org/pages/17081610-203.html. The latter is a news only site run by Jehovah's Witnesses in Russian and it appears to have been overlooked by authorities until it was banned in March of 2018.\n\nReturn to Table of Contents\n\n## Chapter 6 – Statecraft\n\n1. \"Russia's Biggest Enemy Is U.S. — Poll,\" _The Moscow Times_ , January 10, 2018, accessed March 24, 2018, https://themoscowtimes.com/news/russias-biggest-enemy-is-us-poll-60146\n\n2. \"Goodbye America — Russians Suggest Names for New Nukes in Online Vote,\" _The Moscow Times_ , March 2, 2018, accessed March 12, 2018, https://themoscowtimes.com/news/goodbye-america-russians-suggest-names-for-new-nukes-in-online-vote-60690\n\n3. Jacob Leibenluft, \"Why Don't Jehovah's Witnesses Vote? _Slate.com_ , June 26, 2008, accessed March 24, 2018, http://www.slate.com/articles/news_and_politics/explainer/2008/06/why_dont_jehovahs_witnesses_vote.html\n\n4. 2 Corinthians 5:20\n\n5. Emily P. Baran, _Dissent on the Margins - How Jehovah's Witnesses Defied Communism and Lived to Preach About It_ (New York: Oxford University Press, 2014) 134\n\n6. \"Helping 'Foreign Residents' to \"Serve Jehovah With Rejoicing\" _The Watchtower – study edition_ , May 1, 2017, 7\n\n7. _God's Kingdom Rules_ (Brooklyn, Watchtower Bible and Tract Society of Pennsylvania, 2014) 158\n\n8. 1 Corinthians 1:10\n\n9. 1 Corinthians 12:14-18\n\n10. 1 Corinthians 12:25-26\n\n11. Announcement of the American Embassy of the Russian Federation Washington DC: \"Vladimir Putin Gave an Interview to American Journalist Charlie Rose,\" _Embassy of the Russian Federation Washington DC_ , September 28, 2015, accessed March 24, 2018, Shttp://www.russianembassy.org/article/vladimir-putin-gave-an-interview-to-american-journalist-charlie-rose\n\n12. Isaiah 26:2\n\n13. Tobin Harshaw, \"Trump, Brexit and Echoes of World War I,\" _Bloomberg.com_ , November 11, 2017, accessed March 24, 2018, https://www.bloomberg.com/view/articles/2017-11-11/trump-brexit-and-echoes-of-world-war-i\n\n14. \"The Nations Are Still Not Learning,\" _Awake!_ August 8, 2002, 6\n\n15. \"Lazare Ponticelli, the Last French Foot-Soldier of the First World War, Died on March 12th, Aged 110,\" _The Economist_ , March 19, 2008, Obituaries, accessed March 24, 2018, http://www.economist.com/node/10875719\n\n16. Gustave M. Gilbert, _Nuremberg Diary_ (New York: New American Library, 1961) 278 See: https://www.snopes.com/quotes/goering.asp\n\n17. Matthew 26:52\n\n18. \"The German Churches and the Nazi State,\" _Holocaust Encyclopedia_ , United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, https://www.ushmm.org/wlc/en/article.php?ModuleId=10005206\n\n19. Revelation 18:24\n\n20. The issue of Jehovah's Witnesses refusing blood transfusion has been downgraded in the West (though by no means eliminated as a concern) and for that reason, I do not go into it in this book. Facilities practicing 'bloodless medicine,' either stand-alone or as departments of existing medical facilities, have become common-place. Long gone are the days when my wife, as a young girl, was administered a blood transfusion for a nosebleed – one might view it as 'topping off the tank.' Studies detailing inherent transfusion risks have become well-known. New Scientist Magazine summarized several such studies in its April 26, 2008 article entitled \"An Act of Faith in the Operating Room,\" in which the act of faith referred to was not withholding a transfusion but administering one. See also the Watchtower-produced video: 'Transfusion Alternatives - Simple, Safe and Effective.'\n\n21. Ali's exact words: \"My conscience won't let me go shoot... some poor, hungry people in the mud, for big, powerful America, and shoot them. For what? They never called me nigger, they never lynched me, they didn't put no dogs on me,\" recorded on a 1980 documentary by the black public affairs television program 'Like It Is.' Stefan Fatsis, \"No Viet Cong Ever Called Me Nigger, slate.com, June 8, 2006, accessed March 27, 2018, http://www.slate.com/articles/sports/sports_nut/2016/06/did_muhammad_ali_ever_say_no_viet_cong_ever_called_me_nigger.html\n\n22. Muhammad Ali's chief attorney in 1967 was Hayden Covington, who argued many successful Supreme Court cases on behalf of Jehovah's Witnesses two decades earlier. See: Robert Lipsyte, \"Politics Wins in the Ring,\" _New York Times_ , April 28, 1967, accessed March 25, 2018, http://www.nytimes.com/packages/html/sports/year_in_sports/04.28.html\n\n23. Victor V. Blackwell, _O'er the Ramparts They Watched_ (New York: Carlton Press, 1976) 213\n\n24. Ibid., 236-237\n\n25. Ibid., 239\n\n26. Ibid., 246\n\n27. Earnest W Barnes, _The Rise of Christianity_ (London: Longmans Green and Co, 1947) 333\n\n28. C. J. Cadoux, _The Early Church and the World_ (T & T Clark, LTD, 1955) 275-276\n\n29. N. Platt and M. J. Drummond _Our World Through the Ages_ (Englewood Cliffs, N.J., Prentice-Hall, 1961) 125\n\n30. Edward Gibbon, _The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire_ (London, 1776) Vol. I, p. 416\n\n31. \"A Successful Program of Alternative Civilian Service in Taiwan\" _JW Broadcasting_ , August, 11, 2017, accessed March 25, 2018,\n\n32. \"There is No Sect, There are No Problems,\" _portal-credo.ru_ , December 28, 2017, accessed March 28, 2017, http://www.portal-credo.ru/site/?act=news&id=129229. For English Translation, see http://www2.stetson.edu/~psteeves/relnews/171228a.html\n\n33. Andrew Katz, \"Congress Is Now Mostly A Millionaires' Club,\" _New York Times_ , January 9, 2014, accessed March 25, 2018, http://time.com/373/congress-is-now-mostly-a-millionaires-club/\n\n34. Luke 4:5-6\n\n35. \"Uzbekistan: Patriarch Kirill Equates Insulting Believers' Feelings to Extremism,\" _Ruptly TV_ , September 29, 2017, accessed March 25, 2018, https://www.newstube.ru/media/uzbekistan-patriarch-kirill-equates-insulting-believers-feelings-to-extremism\n\n36. Acts 17:6\n\n37. \"Giving Up on Moral & Ethical Values 'More Dangerous Than Nuclear Bomb' – Putin,\" _RT.com_ , October 21, 2017, accessed March 25, 2018, https://www.RT.com/news/407414-moral-ethical-values-putin-sochi/\n\n38. The colorful slogan is preserved only on Wikipedia and a humor page or two, which might not remain. One can sometimes find memorabilia online, such as a coffee mug bearing the same words I recently saw advertised on eBay for $12. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jesse_Ventura\n\n39. Acts 24:5.\n\n40. _Jehovah's Witnesses – Proclaimers of God's Kingdom_ (Brooklyn: Watchtower Bible and Tract Society of Pennsylvania, 1992) 192\n\n41. Daniel 2:44\n\n42. \"Russian Condemnation of Stalin's Repressions Plunges,\" RadioFreeEuropeRadioLibery, November 30, 2017, accessed March 28, 2018, https://www.rferl.org/a/russian-condemnation-of-stalins-repressions-plunges/28724392.html\n\n43. Forum 18 cites examples of Jehovah's Witnesses fired from their jobs or forced to resign, solely on the basis of religion. Victoria Arnold, \"Russia: Jehovah's Witnesses Now Banned,\" _Forum 18 News Service_ , July 18, 2017, accessed March 12, 2018, http://www.forum18.org/archive.php?article_id=2297\n\n44. Hebrews 11:36-38\n\n45. Hebrews 10:34\n\n46. 1 Corinthians 2:14-15\n\n47. Eva Hartzog and Led Gudkov, _The Week_ , October 27, 2017\n\n48. Daniel P. Payne, \"Spiritual Security, the Russian Orthodox Church, and the Russian Foreign Ministry: Collaboration or Cooptation?\" _Рубрика: Статьи современников_ , February 10, 2012, accessed March 25, 2018, http://rpczmoskva.org.ru/stati/daniel-p-paynespiritual-security-the-russian-orthodox-church-and-the-russian-foreign-ministry-collaboration-or-cooptation.html\n\n49. Ecclesiastes 8:9\n\n50. It appears that Paul was released for a time, and was hoping to preach in Spain, and he was later rearrested and condemned to death. Since Acts makes no mention of this, I have taken it all as a needless complication and have edited it away as, in the spirit of the times, as though it were fake news\n\n51. Acts 22:24-29 begins a narrative that continues through Acts 26 and is the source of the remaining portion of this chapter.\n\n52. 2 Timothy 2:15\n\n53. This is another reason The 100 from 'Introduction' rates Muhammad as a more significant figure than Jesus. The former founded a complete religion. The latter did only in tandem with Paul.\n\n54. Acts 20:29-30\n\n55. Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43\n\nReturn to Table of Contents\n\n## Chapter 7 – Education\n\n1. 1 Corinthians 3:19-20\n\n2. August Neander, _The History of the Christian Religion and Church: During the First Three Centuries_ (London: Rivington. Collection Robarts; Toronto. Digitizing sponsor MSN. Contributor Robarts - University of Toronto, 1843) 41\n\n3. Matthew 11:25.\n\n4. 1 Corinthians 1:26\n\n5. Edward D. Andrews, _Your Guide for Defending the Bible: Self-Education of the Bible Make Easy_ (Christian Publishing House 2016) 242-243\n\n6. Acts 4:13\n\n7. 2 Timothy 2:15\n\n8. 2 Corinthians 11:23\n\n9. 1 Timothy 3:16\n\n10. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pederasty_in_ancient_Greece\n\n11. Robin Osborne, _Greek History_ (Routledge, 2004), 12 online and 21.\n\n12. Alix Spiegel, \"Is Believing in God Evolutionarily Advantageous?\" _All Things Considered_ , August 30, 2010, accessed March 25, 2018, https://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=129528196\n\n13. Jessica Bond, \"We Struggle With Monogamy – Is It Time to Abandon it Altogether?\" _New Scientist_ , November 29, 2017, accessed March 25, 2018, https://www.newscientist.com/article-topic/monogamy/\n\n14. Mairi Macleod, \"Monogamy Evolved to Keep Baby-killers Away,\" _New Scientist_ , July 30, 2013, accessed March 25, 2018, https://www.newscientist.com/article/dn23959-monogamy-evolved-to-keep-baby-killers-away/\n\n15. Joanna Marchant, \"Sex, Lies and Monogamy,\" _New Scientist_ , April 28, 2001, accessed March 25, 2018, https://www.newscientist.com/article/mg17022880-300-sex-lies-and-monogamy/\n\n16. Nathan H. Lents, \"Beastly Behavior - The Relationship Between Waist-Hip Ratio and Fertility, _Psychology Today_ , June 19, 2007, accessed March 25, 2018, https://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/beastly-behavior/201706/the-relationship-between-waist-hip-ratio-and-fertility\n\n17. 1 Timothy 4:7. NABRE here reads \"silly myths\" but most translations connect it with \"old women,\" often reading \"old wives' tales.\" NWT says \"false stories, like those told by old women.\" Expect \"silly myths\" to catch on more and more, as translators imitate NABRE and endeavor to avoid being gender specific.\n\n18. Laurie Goodstein, \"A Noah's Ark in Kentucky, Dinosaurs Included,\" _New York Times_ , June 26, 2016, accessed March 26, 2018, https://www.nytimes.com/2016/06/26/us/noahs-ark-creationism-ken-ham.html\n\n19. \"Holy Spirit – at Work in Creation,\" _The Watchtower – study edition_ , February 15, 2011, 8\n\n20. \"How Did We Get Here,\" _Awake!_ May 8, 1997\n\n21. _Was Life Created?_ (Brooklyn: Watchtower Bible and Tract Society of Pennsylvania, 2010), 27\n\n22. See: Ephesians 4:14, 1 Timothy 6:20, Jude 1:12, Jeremiah 2:13, and Matthew 15:14\n\n23. Acts 17:26-27\n\n24. \"Abraham Lincoln and the Bible,\" Lehman Institute Presents: Abraham Lincoln's Classroom, http://www.abrahamlincolnsclassroom.org/abraham-lincoln-in-depth/abraham-lincoln-and-the-bible/\n\n25. Ibid.\n\n26. Ibid\n\n27. Matthew 13:30, Daniel 12:4\n\n28. Daniel 12:9\n\n29. 1 Corinthians 15:45\n\n30. For example, see _Should You Believe in the Trinity?_ (Brooklyn: Watchtower Bible and Tract Society of Pennsylvania, 1989)\n\n31. \"Russian Orthodox Against Jehovah's Witnesses,\" _AsiaNews_ , May 4, 2017, accessed March 13, 2018, http://www.asianews.it/news-en/Russian-Orthodox-against-Jehovahs-Witnesses-40640.html\n\n32. Morris Kline, _Mathematics and the Search for Knowledge_ (New York: Oxford University Press, 1985) 213\n\n33. \"Visions of Zechariah - How They Affect You,\" _The Watchtower_ \\- _study edition_ , October 2017, 23\n\n34. Matthew 11:19, Psalm 38:13\n\n35. \"Remove the Rafter,\" _JW Broadcasting_ , accessed March 26, 2018, https://tv.jw.org/#en/mediaitems/VODBiblePrinciples/pub-jwbai_201603_1_VIDEO\n\n36. Matthew 7:3-5\n\n37. from the 1989 movie: Driving Miss Daisy\n\n38. 'Data Team': \"Over-friendly, or Sexual Harassment? It Depends Partly on Whom You Ask, _The Economist_ , November 17, 2017, March 26, 2018, https://www.economist.com/blogs/graphicdetail/2017/11/daily-chart-14?fsrc=scn/tw/te/bl/ed/\n\n39. Robert Wright, \"Infidelity—It may be in our genes. Our Cheating Hearts,\" _Time Magazine_ , August 15, 1994, accessed March 26, 2018, https://canadiancrc.com/Newspaper_Articles/Time_Magazine_infidelity_in_genes_15AUG94.aspx\n\n40. 1 Timothy 6:19\n\n41. Luke Vander Ploeg, \"Lack Of Education Leads To Lost Dreams And Low Income For Many Jehovah's Witnesses,\" _All Things Considered_ , February 19, 2017, accessed March 26, 2018, https://www.npr.org/2017/02/19/510585965/poor-education-leads-to-lost-dreams-and-low-income-for-many-jehovahs-witnesses\n\n42. Dylan Love, \"Instant MBA: America Needs Plumbers More Than It Needs You, _businessinsider_ , May 17, 2011, accessed March 26, 2018, http://www.businessinsider.com/instant-mba-america-needs-plumbers-more-than-it-needs-you-2011-5\n\n43. Caryle Murphy, \"The Most and Least Educated U.S. Religious Groups,\" _Pew Research_ , November 4, 2016, accessed March 26, 2018, http://www.pewresearch.org/fact-tank/2016/11/04/the-most-and-least-educated-u-s-religious-groups/\n\n44. a reference to Psalm 84:10\n\n45. Eliza Barclay, \"For Best Toilet Health: Squat Or Sit?\" _NPR – Health_ , September 28, 2012, accessed March 26, 2018, https://www.npr.org/sections/health-shots/2012/09/20/161501413/for-best-toilet-health-squat-or-sit\n\n46. For example, see Matthew 15:1-20 in which Jesus answers a question from opposers only in his own time and to his own disciples – after those opposers have taken offense, stormed off, and are no longer around to hear the answer they demanded.\n\n47. John 6:54-66\n\n48. See the drop-down language menu at upper right corner of JW.org.\n\n49. \"Remote Translation Offices Help Spread the Kingdom News,\" _JW Broadcasting_ – Video on Demand, accessed March 26, 2018, https://tv.jw.org/#en/mediaitems/VODActivitiesTranslation/pub-jwbrd_201505_6_VIDEO\n\nReturn to Table of Contents\n\n## Chapter 8 – Brainwashing\n\n1. \"Russian Orthodox Church Supports Ban on Jehovah's Witnesses in Russia,\" _Religious Information Service of Ukraine_ , May 6, 2017, accessed March 27, 2018, https://risu.org.ua/en/index/all_news/state/church_state_relations/66866/\n\n2. 2 Timothy 3:16\n\n3. Matthew 10:34\n\n4. Luke 21: 14-19\n\n5. Pavel Yuryev, \"From Heaven to Earth,\" _General Newspaper_ , October 23, 2017, Accessed March 13, 2018, https://og.ru/society/2017/10/23/92255\n\n6. \"Jehovah's Witnesses are Outraged by the Content of the Anti-Sectarian Article Published in the General Gazette\" _SOVA Center,_ November 11, 2017, accessed March 13, 2018, http://www.sova-center.ru/religion/news/community-media/media-conflicts/2017/11/d38182, For English translation, see https://www2.stetson.edu/~psteeves/relnews/171101a.html\n\n7. Tim Rymel, \"When Is A Religion 'Extremist'?\" _Huffington Post_ , May 11, 2017, accessed March 27, 2018, https://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/when-is-a-religion-extremist_us_590de8e3e4b046ea176aeb98\n\n8. Neil Syson, \"Teen Hormones Being Altered by Gender-bending Chemicals,\" _The Sun_ , February 5, 2018, accessed March 27, 2018, https://nypost.com/2018/02/05/teen-hormones-being-altered-by-gender-bending-chemicals/\n\n9. Jason Le Miere, \"Russia's Jehovah's Witnesses Ban Backed by Flourishing Satanic Church in Moscow,\" _Newsweek_ , May 12, 2017, accessed March 27, 2018, http://www.newsweek.com/jehovahs-witnesses-russia-ban-satanic-church-608334\n\n10. Genesis 3:5\n\n11. Matthew 24:14\n\n12. John 16:2\n\n13. \"Expert: The Ban of 'Jehovah's Witnesses' in Russia Will Reduce the Number of Their Adherents,\" _RIA News Russia Today_ , May 17, 2017, accessed March 27, 2018, https://ria.ru/religion/20170517/1494511149.html\n\n14. Acts 8:1-4\n\n15. Acts 21:13\n\n16. \"A Lengthy Legal Struggle Ends in Victory!\" _The Watchtower – study edition_ , July 15, 2011, 8 https://wol.jw.org/en/wol/d/r1/lp-e/402011522#h=27\n\n17. Matthew 13:45\n\n18. 1 Thessalonians 4:13\n\n19. 2 Corinthians 1:3-7\n\n20. \"Lenin Returns to Russia From Exile,\" This Day in History, _History.com_ , accessed March 28, 2018, https://www.history.com/this-day-in-history/lenin-returns-to-russia-from-exile\n\n21. Scott Shane, \"Russia Isn't the Only One Meddling in Elections. We Do It, Too,\" _New York Times_ , February 17, 2018, accessed March 27, 2018, https://www.nytimes.com/2018/02/17/sunday-review/russia-isnt-the-only-one-meddling-in-elections-we-do-it-too.html\n\n22. http://www.departments.bucknell.edu/russian/const/ch2.html\n\n23. Fred Weir, \"Jehovah's Witnesses as 'Extremists': Court Sharpens Edges of Russia's Religious Space,\" _Christian Science Monitor_ , May 1, 2017, accessed March 27, 2018, https://www.csmonitor.com/World/Europe/2017/0501/Jehovah-s-Witnesses-as-extremists-Court-sharpens-edges-of-Russia-s-religious-space\n\n24. Ibid.\n\n25. Emily B. Baran, \"Jehovah's Witnesses Ban Spells End for Russia's Religious Diversity,\" _The Moscow Times_ , April 24, 2017, accessed March 27, 2018, https://themoscowtimes.com/articles/jehovahs-witnesses-ban-spells-end-of-russias-religious-diversity-op-ed-57793\n\n26. Lauren Markoe, \"Since Ban, Persecution of Jehovah's Witnesses is 'Worse Than Ever,\" _Religion News Service_ , May 18, 2017, https://religionnews.com/2017/05/18/since-ban-persecution-of-jehovahs-witnesses-is-worse-than-ever/\n\n27. Hebrews 4:12\n\n28. Luke 11:33\n\n29. \"Supreme Court Recommends Depriving Parents Who Involve Children in Sects of Their Rights,\" _Human Rights Without Frontiers_ , November 14, 2017, accessed March 13, 2018, http://hrwf.eu/russia-supreme-court-threatens-parental-rights-of-for-example-jehovahs-witnesses/\n\n30. \"Russia's Attack on Jehovah's Witnesses - Interim Report\" _Jehovah's Witnesses in Russia_ , January 15, 2018, 7, accessed March 29, 2018, https://jw-russia.org/sites/default/files/docs/russia_report.pdf\n\n31. \"The Survey Showed the Attitude of Russians Towards the Idea of Depriving Parental Rights of Sectarians,\" _RIA Novosti,_ December 4, 2017, accessed March 13, 2018, https://news.rambler.ru/sociology/38580039-rossiyane-podderzhali-ideyu-lishat-roditelskih-prav-sektantov/?updated, for English translation, see http://www2.stetson.edu/~psteeves/relnews/171204d.html\n\n32. \"Boy Scout Movement Begins,\" This Day in History, _History_ , accessed March 27, 2018, https://www.history.com/this-day-in-history/boy-scouts-movement-begins\n\n33. Abe Fortas, Under Secretary of the Interior, \"Enduring Peace and Social Progress,\" _Journal of the Biology and the Pathology of Interpersonal Relations_ , Vol 9, Number 1, February 1946\n\n34. Libby Hill, \"Kathy Griffin Shocks in Gory Photo Shoot with Donald Trump's (Fake) Head,\" _The Los Angeles Times_ , May 18, 2017, accessed March 27, 2018, http://www.latimes.com/entertainment/la-et-entertainment-news-updates-may-kathy-griffin-shocks-in-gory-photo-1496183372-htmlstory.html\n\n35. Jeremiah 45: 1-5\n\n36. Jeremiah 51:20-23\n\n37. Ezekiel 35: 11-13\n\n38. 2 Timothy 4:10\n\n39. Matthew 5:11\n\nReturn to Table of Contents\n\n## Chapter 9 – Discipline\n\n1. _Insight on the Scriptures_ (Brooklyn: Watchtower Bible and Tract Society of Pennsylvania, 1988) Vol 1, 629\n\n2. Deuteronomy 6:6-7\n\n3. \"The Survey Showed the Attitude of Russians Towards the Idea of Depriving Parental Rights of Sectarians,\" _RIA Novosti_ , December 4, 2017, accessed March 28, 2018, https://news.rambler.ru/sociology/38580039-rossiyane-podderzhali-ideyu-lishat-roditelskih-prav-sektantov/?updated. For English translation, see http://www2.stetson.edu/~psteeves/relnews/171204d.html\n\n4. Daniel 3:17-18\n\n5. Exodus 20:1-17\n\n6. Matthew 5:28\n\n7. Kenney, C. \"Bad News for Kids of Divorce\" _Boston Globe_ , April 6, 1993, 64 as accessed March 28, 2018 at CYS Infopedia, Culture and Youth Studies, http://cultureandyouth.org/divorce/articles-divorce/bad-news-for-kids-of-divorce/\n\n8. Jeremiah 5:8\n\n9. Ezekiel 33:26\n\n10. \"The Supreme Court Spent Nine Hours in Search of Extremism Among Jehovah's Witnesses,\" _Caucasion Knot_ , April 13, 2017, accessed March 14, 2018, https://www.kavkaz-uzel.eu/articles/300950, for English translation, see https://www2.stetson.edu/~psteeves/relnews/170413c.html\n\n11. Proverbs 23:13\n\n12. Jeff Hodson, \"Did Hana's Parents 'Train' Her to Death?\" _The Seattle Times_ , November 27, 2011, accessed March 27, 2018, https://www.seattletimes.com/seattle-news/did-hanas-parents-train-her-to-death/\n\n13. \"A Violent Education - Corporal Punishment of Children in U.S. Public Schools,\" _Human Rights Watch and American Civil Liberties Union_ , February 2009, accessed March 27, 2018, https://www.aclu.org/files/pdfs/humanrights/aviolenteducation_execsumm.pdf\n\n14. \"Giving Reproof 'Before all Onlookers',\" _The Watchtower_ , December 1, 1976, 14\n\n15. Acts 15:14\n\n16. 2 Timothy 2:17\n\n17. 1 Corinthians 5:12-13\n\n18. 1 Peter 4:3\n\n19. Romans 2:21-24\n\n20. 2 Peter 2:1-2\n\n21. Ronald J. Sider, _The Scandal of the Evangelical Conscience_ (Grand Rapids: Baker Books, 2005)\n\n22. Sider, _The Scandal_ , 53\n\n23. Ibid., 108\n\n24. Ibid., 111\n\n25. Ibid., 112-113\n\n26. Ibid., 116\n\n27. Ibid., 111\n\n28. Corinthians 5:9-13\n\n29. Sider, _The Scandal_ , 114-11\n\n30. Titus 1:11, 2 Timothy 2:17-18, 1 Timothy 1:20, Titus 1:13\n\n31. Transcript: Joel Engardio, \"Learning True Tolerance,\" _NPR – Weekend Edition Sunday_ , November 25, 2007, accessed March 27, 2018, https://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=16505529\n\n32. 2 John 2:10-11, James 3:5-8, 2 Corinthians 10:5\n\n33. Mark 10:28-30\n\n33. Matthew 10:34-36.\n\n34. \"A Lengthy Legal Struggle Ends in Victory!\" _The Watchtower – study edition_ , July 15, 2011, 8, accessed March 27, 2018, https://wol.jw.org/en/wol/d/r1/lp-e/402011522#h=27\n\n35. It is a description of Hester Prynne in 'The Scarlet Letter.'\n\n36. Matthew 8:30-32\n\nReturn to Table of Contents\n\n## Chapter 10 – Governing Body\n\n1. Michael Hart, _The 100- A Ranking of the Most Influential Persons of History_ (New York: Citadel Press, 1992) 213-216\n\n2. Genesis 12:2, Isaiah 26:2, Mathew 21:43\n\n3. Acts 15: 6-21, Acts 16:4-5\n\n4. Isaiah 55:9\n\n5. Matthew 24:45-47:\n\n6. The NAS New Testament Greek Lexicon - Diakonos, Strong's Number: 1249, accessed March 28, 2018, http://biblehub.com/greek/1249.htm\n\n7. Hart, _The 100_ , 215\n\n8. Isaiah 48:18\n\n9. Ezekiel 18:25\n\n10. 1 Corinthians 1:23-29\n\n11. 3 John 9-10\n\n12. Revelation 5:10\n\n13. Acts 15:26\n\n14. Mark 12:17\n\n15. Romans 13:4\n\n16. 1 Timothy 2:1-2\n\n17. 1 Timothy 2:3-4\n\n18. Mark A. Smith, _Secular Faith: How Culture Has Trumped Religion in American Politics_ (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2015) see jacket dust cover\n\n19. Ibid.\n\n20. \"Who is Leading God's People Today?\" _The Watchtower – study edition_ , February 1, 2017, 28\n\n21. Ibid., 26\n\n22. Proverbs 4:18\n\n23. _God's Kingdom Rules_ (Brooklyn, Watchtower Bible and Tract Society of Pennsylvania, 2014) 45\n\n24. John 21:21\n\n25. 1 Peter 4:7\n\n26. 2 Samuel 7:2-13\n\n27. Acts 1:7\n\n28. Luke 19:11-21\n\n29. Matthew 24:49-51\n\n30. Romans 8:26\n\n31. Ecclesiastes 11:5\n\n32. Job 26:14\n\n33. Isaiah 54:13\n\n34. Titus 1:10, 1 Timothy 1:3-8, Titus 3:10\n\n35. Acts 6:2\n\n36. _1980 Yearbook of Jehovah's Witnesses_ (Brooklyn: Watchtower Bible and Tract Society of New York, 1979) 30-31\n\n37. Acts 23:4\n\n38. Matthew 24:9\n\n39. 1 Corinthians 14:20, Philippians 3:8, 1 Corinthians 2:15\n\n38. Psalm 34:9\n\n40. Matthew 13:52\n\n41. Matthew 7:14, Hebrews 3:17, James 3:17, Genesis 19:14, Numbers 14:4\n\n43. Luke 12:48\n\n44. James 3:17\n\n45. Revelation 14:4\n\n46. 1 John 2:19\n\n47. 1 Timothy 6:20, Ephesians 4:14, Haggai 2:12\n\n48. Luke 12:4\n\nReturn to Table of Contents\n\n## Chapter 11 – Apostasy\n\n1. Anton Chivchalov, blog entry, see April 21, 2017 post, accessed Feb 23, 2018, https://www.facebook.com/achivchalov\n\n2. 2 Thessalonians 2:7, 1 Corinthians 16:9, John 15:20\n\n3. Jude 1:8\n\n4. 1 John 4:20, Matthew 18:23-35\n\n5. Jude 1:8\n\n6. 2 Peter 2:1-22\n\n7. Hebrews 12:6\n\n8. Matthew 5:41\n\n9. 2 Timothy 3:12\n\n10. Revelation 17: 1-18\n\n11. Matthew 13:24-29\n\n12. Hebrews 6:4-6\n\n13. 1 John 2:19, Matthew 15:14, Matthew 18:17\n\n14. Matthew 22:16-17\n\n15. Matthew 22:18-22\n\n16. 2 Timothy 4:10, 1 John 2:19\n\n17. Obadiah 1:1-14\n\n18. Proverbs 24:6, Psalm 119:165\n\n19. Exodus 8:15\n\n20. 2 Corinthians 10:4-5, 2 Timothy 2: 24\n\n21. Romans 16:17-19.\n\n22. Alice G. Walton, \"6 Ways Social Media Affects Our Mental Health, _Forbes_ , June 30, 2017, accessed March 27, 2018, https://www.forbes.com/sites/alicegwalton/2017/06/30/a-run-down-of-social-medias-effects-on-our-mental-health/#69014c582e5a\n\n23. 1 Samuel 17:34-35\n\n24. Numbers 12:3\n\n25. Numbers 16:3, 13-14\n\n26. Matthew 23:30-32\n\n27. Mark 13:37 1 Peter 1:12\n\n28. Matthew 22:15-22\n\n29. 2 Chronicles 33:9\n\nReturn to Table of Contents\n\n## Chapter 13 – Money\n\n1. via private email\n\n2. David Masci, \"How Income Varies Among U.S. Religious Groups,\" _Pew Research Center_ , October 11, 2016, accessed March 27, 2018, http://www.pewresearch.org/fact-tank/2016/10/11/how-income-varies-among-u-s-religious-groups/\n\n3. Caryle Murphy, \"The Most and Least Educated U.S. Religious Groups,\" _Pew Research_ , November 4, 2016, accessed March 27, 2018, http://www.pewresearch.org/fact-tank/2016/11/04/the-most-and-least-educated-u-s-religious-groups/\n\n4. Acts 4:13\n\n5. John 16:12\n\n6. The program has been packaged into three segments and is viewable at https://tv.jw.org/#en/categories/VODProgramsEvents\n\n7. Deuteronomy 16: 16-17\n\n8. _God's Kingdom Rules_ (Brooklyn, Watchtower Bible and Tract Society of Pennsylvania, 2014) 194\n\n9. Bill Underwood, \"Helping Haiti - Give Generously But Wisely,\" _Bible Friendly Books_ , August 17, 2016, http://www.biblefriendlybooks.com/2016/08/helping-haiti-give-generously-but-wisely.html\n\n10. John 12:6\n\n11. Wanda Gray, \"Good Samaritans Provide Relief,\" this article, probably from the Southwest Times Record, includes the short quote used. The quote is reproduced for the _God's Kingdom Rules_ book, page 213, and is from the year 2013. A phone call to the Fort Smith, Arkansas public library reveals that records are not yet digitalized, making an Internet search unfeasible. The article clipping itself is in my personal possession.\n\n12. Ofer Tirosh, \"What is the World's Most Translated Website?\" _tomedes.com_ , July 7, 2015, accessed March 27, 2018, https://www.tomedes.com/translator-hub/most-translated-website.php\n\n13. 2 Corinthians 8:8\n\n14. 2 Corinthians 8:14\n\n15. 1 Corinthians 6:2\n\n16. Matthew 19:22, Luke 12:18, 1 Timothy 6:10\n\n17. \"Never Forget the Door-to-Door Ministry,\" _The Watchtower_ , September 1, 2008, 19\n\n18. Luke 16:1-9\n\n19. 2 Corinthians 9:7, Matthew 6:2-4\n\n20. It is \"arguable\" that Luke was a scholar, in that the Watchtower has ceased appending the almost automatic \"respected physician\" preceding his name, the basis being that physicians of that time were not respected. David Splane explained that doctors of the first century were often freed Greek slaves with correspondingly low social standing, not to mention low recovery rates. He quoted a description from one ancient work: \"Until recently [so-and-so] was a doctor. Now he is an undertaker. He is still doing as an undertaker what he used to do as a doctor.\" November Monthly Broadcast, _JW Broadcasting_ , November 2017. Still, Luke is the writer of the Book of Acts, besides the gospel book bearing his name, and can hopefully survive this debacle.\n\n21. Katerina Chernova, \"Jehovah's Witnesses: Are They Banned or Not?\" _Suchan_ , April 2017, as captured at accessed March 27, 2018, https://www2.stetson.edu/~psteeves/relnews/170426a.html\n\n22. Acts 13:45.\n\nReturn to Table of Contents\n\n## Chapter 14 – Earth\n\n1. Revelation 11:18\n\n2. Simon Shuster, \"Stanislav Petrov, the Russian Officer Who Averted a Nuclear War, Feared History Repeating Itself, _Time_ , September 19, 2017, accessed March 28, 2018, http://time.com/4947879/stanislav-petrov-russia-nuclear-war-obituary/\n\n3. Ecclesiastes 10:7\n\n4. Nicola Davis, \"Soviet Submarine Officer Who Averted Nuclear War Honoured with Prize,\" October 27, 2017, accessed March 28, 2018, https://www.theguardian.com/science/2017/oct/27/vasili-arkhipov-soviet-submarine-captain-who-averted-nuclear-war-awarded-future-of-life-prize\n\n5. \"Texts of Accounts by Lucas and Considine on Interviews With MacArthur in 1954,\" _New York Times_ , April 9, 1964, accessed March 28, 2018, https://www.nytimes.com/1964/04/09/texts-of-accounts-by-lucas-and-considine-on-interviews-with-macarthur-in-1954.html\n\n6. Genesis 6:11\n\n7. Seth Schiesel, \"The Real Problem With Video Games,\" _The New York Times_ , March 13, 2018, accessed March 28, 2018, https://www.nytimes.com/2018/03/13/opinion/video-games-toxic-violence.html\n\n8. David Meyer, \"Vladimir Putin Says Whoever Leads in Artificial Intelligence Will Rule the World\" _Fortune_ , September 4, 2017, accessed March 28, 2018, http://fortune.com/2017/09/04/ai-artificial-intelligence-putin-rule-world\n\n9. \"Dennis Kristensen, Who Languished in Jail, and His Co-Religionists Received Gratitude From Local Authorities,\" _Jehovah's Witnesses in Russia_ , June 14, 2017, accessed March 24, 2018, https://jw-russia.org/news/17061415-180.html\n\n10. Media release: \"Witnesses' New Branch Office in Britain Receives Top BREEAM Rating for Sustainable Design,\" _JW.org_ , September 5, 2017, accessed March 28, 2018, https://www.jw.org/en/news/releases/by-region/united-kingdom/branch-office-breeam-rating-sustainable-design/\n\n11. Media release: \"Witnesses Receive Highest Rating by GBI for Sustainable Design of New World Headquarters,\" _JW.org,_ February 14, 2017, accessed March 28, 2018, https://www.jw.org/en/news/releases/by-region/united-states/gbi-awards-four-green-globes-sustainable-design/\n\n12. Frances Marion Platt, \"Gardiner Town Hall Spruced Up by Watchtower Volunteers,\" _hudsonvalleyone.com_ , August 19, 2017, accessed March 28, 2018, https://hudsonvalleyone.com/2017/08/19/gardiner-town-hall-spruced-up-by-watchtower-volunteers\n\n13. Media release: \"Witnesses Repair 60-Year-Old Dam in Warwick,\" _JW.org_ , November 1, 2016, accessed March 28, 2018, https://www.jw.org/en/news/releases/by-region/united-states/witnesses-repair-60-year-old-dam-warwick/\n\n14. Mary McAleer Vizard, \"In the Region: Putnam County; Watchtower Project Grows in Patterson,\" _New York Times_ , April 18, 1993, accessed March 28, 2018, http://www.nytimes.com/1993/04/18/realestate/in-the-region-putnam-county-watchtower-project-grows-in-patterson.html\n\n15. \"The Congress Hall of Jehovah's Witnesses in St. Petersburg. Overview,\" _Jehovah's Witnesses in Russia_ , July 15, 2015, accessed March 28, 2018, https://jw-russia.org/news/15071514-77.html\n\n16. Svetlana Mihaylova, \"Do You Want to Attract Finnish Business, Improve Investment Climate,\" _fontanka.ru_ , November 1, 2016, accessed March 28, 2018, https://www.fontanka.ru/2017/12/16/038/\n\n17. Ezekiel 38:11-12\n\nReturn to Table of Contents\n\n## Chapter 15 – Fake News\n\n1. Fact Check: \"Did Trump Warn Russia Over Jehovah's Witnesses Ban and Urge Members to Seek Asylum in the U.S.?\" _snopes.com_ , May 2, 2017, accessed March 28, 2018, https://www.snopes.com/jehovahs-witness-russia-trump-asylum/\n\n2. _The Octavius of Minucius Felix_ , Roberts-Donaldson English [from Greek] Translation, c160-250 A.D, chapters VIII, IX, compiled by Peter Kirby, http://www.earlychristianwritings.com/octavius.html. The debate between an early Christian (Octavius) and a Roman skeptic (Caecilius) is among the oldest, possibly the oldest, of extant Christian Latin literature.\n\n3. _The Octavius_ , XII\n\n4. Kevin Roose, \"Here Come the Fake Videos, Too,\" _New York Times_ , March 4, 2018\n\n5. Isaiah 5:20-25\n\n6. 1 Corinthians 7:31\n\n7. 1 Corinthians 4:9\n\n8. Word History: \"The Origin of 'Hypocrite'- This Common Word Has a Dramatic Origin Story,\" _Merriam-Webster_ , accessed March 28, 2018, https://www.merriam-webster.com/words-at-play/hypocrite-meaning-origin\n\n9. Luke 23:2\n\n10. Isaiah 51:12\n\n11. Harrison Koehli, \"Sott Exclusive: Full Unedited Text of Vladimir Putin's Interview with Charlie Rose: What CBS Left Out,\" sott.net, September 29, 2015, accessed March 28, 2018, https://www.sott.net/article/302911-Sott-Exclusive-Full-unedited-text-of-Vladimir-Putins-interview-with-Charlie-Rose-What-CBS-left-out. It doesn't hurt to see what was left out. It reinforces perception that the media of any country pursue primarily the memes popular in that country.\n\n12. Padraig Collins, \"Stephen Fry Investigated by Irish police for Alleged Blasphemy,\" _The Guardian_ , May 6, 2017, accessed March 28, 2018, https://www.theguardian.com/culture/2017/may/07/stephen-fry-investigated-by-irish-police-for-alleged-blasphemy\n\n13. _The Octavius_ , V\n\n14. _The Octavius_ , XIII\n\n15. 1 Corinthians 3:19\n\n16. 2 Samuel 12:1-7\n\n17. 1 Corinthians 15:26.\n\n18. Proverbs 1:20\n\n19. Revelation 13:14-15\n\n20. Revelation 17:8\n\n21. _Jehovah's Witnesses – Proclaimers of God's Kingdom_ (Brooklyn: Watchtower Bible and Tract Society of Pennsylvania, 1992) 262\n\n22. Ibid., 192\n\n23. 1 Thessalonians 4:13\n\n24. 1 Corinthians 15:26, Revelation 5:10\n\n25. Genesis chapters 5 and 11, Psalm 90:10\n\n26. Acts 8:30-31\n\n27. Acts 17:27\n\n28. Romans 6:4-6, Colossians 3:9\n\n29. \"Our Concept and Definition of Critical Thinking,\" _The Foundation for Critical Thinking_ , accessed March 28, 2018, http://www.criticalthinking.org/pages/our-concept-and-definition-of-critical-thinking/411\n\n30. Associated Press, \"China Confirms the Execution of British Citizen Akmal Shaikh, Despite UK Plea,\" _New York Daily News_ , December 29, 2009, accessed March 28, 2018, http://www.nydailynews.com/news/world/china-confirms-execution-british-citizen-akmal-shaikh-uk-plea-article-1.432326\n\n31. Psalm 34:8\n\n32. Matthew 13:13-15\n\n33. Acts 17:2, 11\n\n34. John P. A. Ioannidis, \"Why Most Published Research Findings Are False,\" _PLoS_ , August 30, 2005, accessed March 28, 2018, http://journals.plos.org/plosmedicine/article?id=10.1371/journal.pmed.0020124\n\n35. Richard Horton, \"Offline: What is Medicine's 5 Sigma?\" _thelancet.com_ , Vol 385, April 11, 2015, accessed March 28, 2018, http://www.thelancet.com/pdfs/journals/lancet/PIIS0140-6736%2815%2960696-1.pdf\n\n36. Marcia Angell, \"Drug Companies & Doctors: A Story of Corruption,\" _The New York Review of Books_ , January 15, 2009, accessed March 28, 2018, http://www.nybooks.com/articles/2009/01/15/drug-companies-doctorsa-story-of-corruption/\n\n37. James 3:17\n\n38. Job 26:14\n\nReturn to Table of Contents\n\n## Chapter 16 – Life\n\n1. Alexandra Alter, \"Is This Man Cheating on His Wife?\" _Wall Street Journal_ , August 10, 2007, accessed March 28, 2018, https://www.wsj.com/articles/SB118670164592393622\n\n2. 1 Timothy 6:17-19\n\n3. The note is on display at the George Eastman House in Rochester N.Y. The account of separating the house by rollers to insert a midsection is related by any tour guide.\n\n4. Isaiah 65:21-23\n\n5. Revelation 2:10\n\n6. Christina Sommers, Twitter feed, February 14, 2018, accessed March 28, 2018, https://twitter.com/chsommers/status/963975848540954625?lang=en\n\n7. This is not the exact quote, which I have misplaced, but it is just as apropo. He writes the complaint frequently. See, for example, https://www.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=10213630677134011&id=1016253912. Contact him via Twitter and ask. Take note of his banner, which inspired a certain plebian (me) to say \"it really puts the 'ass' into astronaut. He told me they were not astronauts, but female fighter ACES. Yeah...whatever.\n\n8. Zechariah 12:3\n\n9. 1 Samuel 5:6\n\n10. \"The Court Restricted Dennis Christensen's Right to Become Acquainted With the Case Materials,\" _Jehovah's Witnesses in Russia_ , December 19, 2017 accessed March 28, 2018, https://www.jw-russia.org/news/17121911-277.html The Court relented on this restriction two months later: http://www2.stetson.edu/~psteeves/relnews/180228a.html\n\n11. The interview survives only as a YouTube submission, uploaded April 26, 2012, by JW Brothers, accessed March 21, 2018, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ldybL1foBE0. I would prefer the source be more precise, but it dovetails well with contemporary print RT.com articles, such as \"Will Jehovah's Witnesses be Banned in Russia?\" _RT.com_ , August 11, 2010, accessed March 19, 2018, https://www.rt.com/news/will-jehovah-s-witnesses-be-banned-in-russia/\n\n12. Esther 7:1-6\n\n13. Steven Lee Myers, _The New Tsar: The Rise and Reign of Vladimir Putin_ (New York: Knoph, 2014) 24\n\n14. \"LAÏCITÉ and Religious Freedom: A Coalition of NGOs Questions France at the United Nations,\" Human Rights Without Frontiers, January 16, 2018, accessed March 28, 2018, http://hrwf.eu/laicite-and-religious-freedom-a-coalition-of-ngos-questions-france-at-the-united-nations\n\n15. See tweet of March 7, 2018, by Stephen Hassan, accessed March 21, 2018, https://twitter.com/CultExpert/status/971553486080040960\n\n16. Matthew 10:5-42\n\n17. Platon Prohorov, \"When God is Ridnessed,\" _Religiopolis_ , May 10, 2017, accessed March 27, 2018, http://www.religiopolis.org/news/11474-togda-bog-otvorachivaetsya.html. For English translation, see https://www2.stetson.edu/~psteeves/relnews/170510e.html\n\n18. A parody of such is portrayed in an ebook by this author: _Tom Irregardless and Me_ (smashwords.com Search: Tom Harley, 2016) Chapter 12\n\n19. Matthew 11:16-19\n\n20. \"Jehovah Will Treat His Loyal One in a Special Way,\" _Jehovah's Witnesses Broadcasting_ , 2016, accessed March 28, 2018, https://tv.jw.org/#en/mediaitems/pub-jwbcov_201605_11_VIDEO\n\n21. Daniel 4:33 This chapter of Daniel figures prominently in Bible chronology and Witness detractors sometimes seek to undermine it on that account. There is debate among secular sources as to the date of fulfillment of this verse.\n\n22. _What Does the Bible Really Teach?_ (Wallkill: Watchtower Bible and Tract Society of Pennsylvania, 2014) 106\n\n23. Matthew 28:13\n\n24. 2 Timothy 2:18\n\n25. _The Octavius of Minucius Felix_ , Roberts-Donaldson English [from Greek] Translation, c160-250 A.D, chapters VIII, XI, XII, compiled by Peter Kirby, accessed March 28, 2018, http://www.earlychristianwritings.com/octavius.html.\n\n26. Zechariah 8:23\n\n27. Revelation 22:20-21\n\nReturn to Table of Contents\n\n## Other Works by the Author\n\n**TrueTom vs the Apostates!**\n\nTom Irregardless and Me\n\nNo Fake News but Plenty of Hogwash\n\nMetaData of TrueTom vs The Apostates!\n\nFire leveled Rome in 64 CE. Suspicion fell upon Nero. He shifted blame to the new religion of Christianity, it's members \"hated for their enormities,\" says Tacitus. They were hunted and killed in heinous ways, History is not now repeating itself—but under the guise of a modern \"anti-cult\" movement that extends the age-old derogatory C-word to new targets, it is beginning to rhyme a little.\n\nChristians were rounded up and killed in ways most cruel, says the historian, \"convicted, not so much on the charge of burning the city, as of hating the human race.\" How can that be? Jesus' followers—\"hating the human race?\"\n\nProfessor G. A. Wells, author of The Jesus Myth, writes that \"the context of Tacitus' remarks itself suggests that he relied on Christian informants.\" No Christian is going to say: \"We hate the human race,\" but they will say exactly the opposite. It was their \"informants\"—their apostates, that spread the ill report!\n\nNo New Testament writer fails to deal with then-rampant apostasy—a movement which finds its counterpart today. Two Bible chapters are entirely dedicated to it. Apostates of that time would \"despise authority.\" How could that become a problem unless there was authority? They loved \"lawlessness.\" How could that become a problem unless there was law? They favored acts of \"brazen conduct,\" had \"eyes full of adultery,\" and were \"unable to desist from sin.\" How could that become a problem unless there was someone to tell them that they could not carry on in that way? Not only is the nature of apostates revealed in the above Bible verses, but also the nature of the Christian organization.\n\nA faith that is \"anything goes\" will produce few apostates. What would they apostatize from? And a faith too bland to produce 'quality' apostates, like those of the first century, is too bland to be given the time of day.\n\nHistory is not now repeating—but it is beginning to rhyme a little. A modern \"anti-cult\" movement takes aim at historically recent religion that veers off the mainstream and dares to heed Jesus's words to remain \"no part of the world\"—from that position to extend a helping hand to individuals therein.\n\nIncensed at the \"authoritarian\" nature of such a faith—anti-cultists take aim, and the \"haters of the human race\" charge seems not too far from revival. Time was when, if you fell under the spell of a charismatic leader, withdrew from regular human society, and did strange things, you just might be part of a cult. These days simply thinking outside of the box is enough, and the C-word is expanded to include what scholars call new religions, in hopes that its vilifying connotations will extend to its new target. Acts of violence result in countries such as Russia, home of a radical anti-cult movement, but also in the West, where two Kingdom Halls of Jehovah's Witnesses were burned to the ground in 2018.\n\n\"If you were part of the world, the world would be fond of what is its own,\" Jesus told his followers. \"Now because you are no part of the world...on this account the world hates you.\" Can his words reveal anything other than the \"insularity\" of those who would follow him?\n\nToday, that \"insularity\" is deliberately mis-portrayed by anti-cultists as socially destructive. The efforts of apostates to malign their former faith should not be mischaracterized as a noble struggle for human rights. Those refusing marching orders from the mainstream should not be misrepresented as a \"cult.\" Tragedies, both real and concocted, should not be utilized to mask what is really an attack on thinking outside-of-the-box. All of these things happen. None of them should. This book attempts to level the playing field and answer the many charges of the anti-cultists.\n\nWhat Others Have Said About **Tom Irregardless and Me:**\n\nTo the outsider, Jehovah's Witnesses may seem deadly serious and preoccupied exclusively with their religion and the Society's own publications. Harley dispels this stereotype. The book is about real people and issues, although the author has changed the names of rank-and-file members to preserve name anonymity. Tom Irregardless is an elder who uses the spurious word \"irregardless\" liberally in his Bible talks. Other characters include John Wheatnweeds, who hinders members from their house-to-house ministry by spending inordinate amounts of time expounding the text of the day before they set out. Then there is posh brandy-sipping Bernard Strawman, who receives frequent visits from the publishers, but continues to raise facile objections to their faith. Vic Vomidog, an apostate, repeatedly seeks to hamper their work. Other chapters are about real JW celebrities such as Prince, who is the subject of an entire chapter.\n\nDespite being light-hearted throughout, Tom Harley raises serious issues such as flag salutes, Darwinism and creationism, theocratic government, the paedophile scandals and the dangers of online grooming of minors, and the accuracy of the New World Translation of the Bible. Tom shows a remarkable breadth of knowledge and reading too – he has by no means exclusively studied Watch Tower publications.\n\n_My favourite part of the book was the parody of Mickey Spillane near the end, where Tom Harley envisages a house-to-house publisher acting like one of Spillane's macho characters. For those who don't know, Spillane was a novelist whose books were renowned for their sex and violence, until Spillane converted to become a Jehovah's Witness in 1951 – a decision that drastically changed his writing style. -_ I.T.\n\n_Thought provoking and very well written. Tom has a firm grasp on the written word and how to weave a narrative in a way that makes you think, laugh, and meditate on the big picture in a thoroughly entertaining fashion. Which is something we all need to do. –_ S.B.\n\n_Had me laughing out loud one minute and thinking deeply the next. Tom Harley has a great sense of humour and says a lot of things that many JW's think but don't often say. Despite writing a number of things that only witnesses would 'get', those who malign without knowing the facts would benefit by reading this light-hearted, yet serious, book.-_ G.G.\n\n_Tom Harley has a fantastic sense of humor, he says a lot of things that need to be said and a lot of things that only witnesses would truly appreciate. I haven't met any of the people in the book, yet I feel that I have. –_ R.K.\n\nChapter 1 - Prince\n\nChapter 2 – Sam Herd\n\nChapter 3 – Tom Irregardless\n\nChapter 4 – The Regional Convention\n\nChapter 5 – Enemies\n\nChapter 6 – Suffering\n\nChapter 7 – The God of Football\n\nChapter 8 – Plato\n\nChapter 9 – Pipe Dreams\n\nChapter 10 – Blogging\n\nChapter 11 – The Pew Report\n\nChapter 12 – John Wheatnweeds\nChapter 13 – Joel Engardio\nChapter 14 - Joe Paterno\n\nChapter 15 – Dr. Mike 'Ace' Inhibitor\n\nChapter 16 – The New World Translation\n\nChapter 17 – Me\n\nChapter 18 – Sam Herd\n\nAfterword – Black Mack, Slow Joe and Davey the Kid\n\n***~~~***\n\nNo Fake News but Plenty of Hogwash:\n\nIf one has been an active Witness of Jehovah long enough, there are no end of people-watching stories to tell, and herein are many of them. Alternately zany and gentle - and deeply moving. Some themes timely. Others timeless. Essays, snippets, short stories and shorter stories clustered around central themes. A few delicious rants but not a single harangue. From screamingly funny to heart-wrenchingly poignant, and sometimes both at once. Like the weather of most towns – 'don't like the narrative just now? Stick around; it will change.\n\nAlso containing an unanticipated tribute to dear old Dad, who dominates at end-of-book. It is as the apocryphal quote of Mark Twain realized: 'When I was a boy of fourteen, my father was so ignorant I could hardly stand to have the old man around. But when I got to be twenty-one, I was astonished at how much he had learned in seven years.'\n\nSure to delight the preacher of the good news and the non-preacher alike. Sure to delight the scientist that can pull off the self-deprecatory humor of the author. Scientist-philosopher-atheist-cheerleaders may not like it, though. Critiques within of today's evangelistic atheists, who are not the ones of yesteryear. Sigh - if they believe it, they believe it. But it is hardly something to celebrate. Is it not a little like the fellow who loses millions in the stock market? Undeterred, he celebrates the thousand dollars he still has left and says 'Well, they were only paper gains anyway.'\n\nThe book was originally written hastily – too hastily - as an on-ramp leading into my first book, Tom Irregardless and Me. Revised, it now stands on its own. In some ways it is the better of the two, as it breaks bolder ground and it is more personal. Released at the halftime show of the 2017 Super Bowl, by Lady Gaga, while you were up getting pretzels. We worked on it for months – her people and mine. She put everything on the line, catching the football at concert's end. Had she dropped it, her career would have been toast.\n\nIntroduction\n\nChapter 1 – Tales of the Holiday\n\nChapter 2 – Tales of the Supermarket\n\nChapter 3 – Tales of Music\n\nChapter 4 – Tales of Technology\n\nChapter 5 – Tales of Media\n\nChapter 6 – Tales of Medicine\n\nChapter 7 – Tales of Authors\n\nChapter 8 – Tales of Lowlifes\n\nChapter 9 – Tales of Science\n\nChapter 10 – More Tales of Science\n\nChapter 11 – Tales of Family\nChapter 12 – Tales from the Group Home\nChapter 13 – Tales of Loyalty\n\nChapter 14 – Tales of Love\n\nChapter 15 – Tales from the Funeral Home\n\nChapter 16 – Final Tales\n\n***~~~***\n\n## Contact the Author\n\nFollow Tom Harley at Twitter: http://twitter.com/truetomharley\n\nFriend him on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100011735529077\n\nFavorite him at Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/Tomsheepandgoats\n\nKeep an eye on the rascal at Tomsheepandgoats.com\n\nContact Tom at truetomharley@gmail.com\n\nHe'll try to get back but can't guarantee. He's not a debater. Sometimes people disagree. He can live with that.\n\nReturn to Table of Contents\n\n", "meta": {"pile_set_name": "BookCorpus2"}}
{"text": " \n### Martial Arts – The Mind / Body Link\n\nBy Lor Mun Mak\n\nSmashwords Edition\n\nCopyright 2018 Lor Mun Mak\n\nSmashwords Edition, License Notes\n\nThank you for downloading this free e-book. You are welcome to share it with your friends. This book may be reproduced, copied and distributed for non-commercial purposes, provided the book remains in its complete original form.\n\nWarning: It is strongly recommended that children and adults who are not experienced in martial arts should not attempt application of the principles of this book unless under the supervision of a currently certified instructor/coach in the fighting arts.\n\n****\n\n### Table of Contents\n\nIntroduction\n\nThe Mind / Body Link\n\nAffecting the Opponent\n\nForward Pressure\n\nAccelerated behaviour\n\nOutcomes\n\nThe System\n\nMindset for Battle\n\nFreedom\n\nMultiple Attackers\n\nSharpening Your Weapons\n\nEnergy\n\nDefences are built into what you are doing\n\nIntent\n\nDesign, Build, and Test your Art\n\nTraining the Body\n\nLongarm Footwork\n\nSingle opponent verses group battle\n\nLearning / Training model\n\n****\n\nIntroduction\n\nOne of the key aspects of the martial arts is the link between the mind and body.\n\nIt works in both directions; the mind affects the body and the body affects the mind.\n\nThe implications for battle are two-fold:\n\nYou can stop an opponent's attack by wrecking their mental focus on you, which dismantles their physical actions.\n\nThe other part is not allowing your own mind to be trapped by the situation and decreasing your physical ability.\n\nYour chances of safely exiting a situation are dramatically improved when both parts are working in your favour.\n\n****\n\nThe Mind / Body Link\n\nThe link between the mind and body is at the core of every martial art. There is a compelling reason for this; if you can disrupt the mind, then you can disrupt the body.\n\nThe opponent's physical system is powered and driven by their mind. If you can affect their mind sufficiently, then you can reduce their physical effectiveness. This is a double-edged sword as the same applies to you.\n\nIf you base everything on the logic that an opponent is generally only dangerous if they can focus their intentions on you, then you have a clear path forward to develop your art.\n\nYour goal is simplified i.e. to dismantle the opponent's intentions towards you. This will open up your thinking to a whole range of self-defence strategies, as well as an approach to fighting that will have a similar foundation for both single and multiple opponents.\n\nIf you break the opponent's intentions towards you and send their mind internal, then it is likely they will start to turn away from you, as this is a natural defensive action i.e. we turn to protect our sensory equipment such as our eyes, and to see if the way is clear to get away from the danger.\n\nIf you don't break them and they retreat or back away from you, then you have two options. You can stop and leave, or you can go in again. Part of your mind being free is you are not worried about having to damage or destroy your opponent. You only need to break their mind until they give up, at which point you leave, as it may only be temporary or they may have friends in the vicinity. If they are too resilient and don't break down, then getting out is a good option.\n\n****\n\nAffecting the Opponent\n\nAffecting the opponent is about affecting their intentions towards you. The more rapidly you can achieve this, the less potential for you to be injured by their weaponry, be it strikes, kicks, knees, elbows, head butts, takedowns, etc.\n\nYou ultimately don't want to be hit or grabbed. Remember that for self-defence, you only have to create the conditions where you can exit the situation safely.\n\nShock and Pressure\n\nHow can you affect your opponent's mind such that their physical ability is momentarily affected?\n\nThe right combination of shock and pressure is one such method and it can send the opponent's mind internal very quickly. This switches them from their calculating brain that is planning and reacting with an attack / defence mindset, into their primitive brain where the survival response lies.\n\nUltimately, you want to trigger the flight response for a moment so that the opponent will turn. The objective then is to ramp up the pressure on them so that they turn and present their back to you.\n\nTurning (to run or bunker down) is the first step in a survival response to get away from a threat, or to present the back as the least worst target.\n\nYou can switch people into this response with the right amount of shock and it's not something that people can easily train to stop from happening. Note however that everyone has a different threshold of pressure that they can withstand, and people with fighting experience can recover very quickly.\n\nA heavy combination of shock and pressure will get you the desired results even in a group of opponents. Multiple attackers are at their most dangerous when they act as a concerted group. Break the 'group mind' into a bunch of disarrayed individuals and your odds of safely exiting the situation will improve dramatically.\n\nHow to create shock\n\nTo create shock, your actions have to temporarily overwhelm the person and send their mind internal, where their focus is on saving themselves rather than on attacking you.\n\nThis should inform you that even if your actions are not actually doing much physical damage to your opponent, they need to think that you are.\n\nFor shock to be effective, it has to be cumulative i.e. you need a series of shocks that sends their cognitive mind into a downward spiral so that their primitive mind takes over. You are after a defensive reaction and the best result is to get them to turn away from you. This is a natural defensive reaction i.e. the first step to get out of a situation.\n\nOf course, people will return to the battle if their cognitive mind can recover. This is why you also need pressure, to stop the person returning on you.\n\nCreating shock is not an easy task. Everyone has a different mental resilience depending on their training, their exposure to violence, etc. In order to give yourself the best chance of creating both shock and pressure you need to work with the biggest weapon at your disposal. This is your accelerated mass.\n\nThe Body is the Weapon\n\nVery few exponents use their whole body / system to its full potential in battle. The body becomes the weapon when you use your accelerated mass to create effective strategies regardless of whether you are facing a single opponent or multiple attackers.\n\nHow do you create an effect on your opponent using your accelerated mass?\n\nYou have to shock the person if you are to break their mind for a moment. You need to throw your mass (explosively and violently) at the person if you are to do this. It is the explosion of your whole system onto the opponent that creates the moment of shock. To give yourself the best chance of having an effect on your opponent, you have to give everything of yourself. It's all or nothing when your strategy is full energisation.\n\nYou have to use your body to create a series of shocks for the opponent that sends their focus inwards, while maintaining a pressure that doesn't allow their mind to recover. It is the combination of pressure and shock that affects their mind and sends them internal for a few moments so that they give a defensive reaction i.e. turn or bunker.\n\nIt's only once they turn that you can put more emphasis into delivering strikes to increase their desire to get away. You then have a good opportunity to break from the situation and exit the situation safely.\n\nThere is a balance between shock and forward pressure. Too much forward pressure and you will be caught up in resistance, which stops you enacting a series of explosive accelerations of your mass. Body bumps have to have this balance as for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction and your balance will be affected by the force being transmitted back into you from the contact with the opponent.\n\nAccelerating your mass at an opponent is not a technique. You have to work out how to load your system and then explode it onto the opponent, with the minimum gap possible to the next explosive action.\n\nNeutralisation\n\nWhen two people come together in battle, they both have this moment of shock and the result is a moment of neutralisation. Think of this moment of time as a gap. The first person to recover or transition can get an advantage and the opportunity to create an effect.\n\nIf you can transition immediately and create gap after gap that the opponent cannot handle then you will effectively create a series of cascading effects that doesn't allow the opponent to recover. This will mean they are always 'behind time' where their thoughts and actions are behind compared to your actions. If they panic and lose focus then they cannot apply their power and strength.\n\nYou want the opponent's mind to be lagging behind the timing of your actions. Transitions are meant to disrupt their flow of sensory information and put them further behind time in a cascading process of disorientation with their mind hopefully 'going under'. If you mess up, then you will allow their mind to catch up to the timing of your actions and they recover.\n\nNote that if you try to throw a strike after the initial neutralisation, you will recover at the same time as the opponent. It's then mostly luck as to whether your strike has a greater effect on them, than their strike has on you. But you don't want to have to rely on this; you want to create a large advantage, rather than an equal chance. Neutralisation gives you a moment of safety i.e. strikes are effectively neutralised and you want to continue that safety by creating another effect for their mind to deal with. This is where transitioning with minimal gaps becomes important.\n\nTwo people will not always neutralise. For instance, two boxers will not neutralise if they stay at the distance where they use jabs. You only get neutralisation where two people come together with reasonable speed and get up close. Accelerate your mass at someone and you can experience this moment of neutralisation. As discussed above, the issue you then have to solve is, 'how you can take advantage of the situation of neutralisation?'\n\nTransitions\n\nIn order for your body to be the weapon, you need to 'give' your accelerated mass to your opponent, with minimal gaps in time between each acceleration of your system. This means the reloading and transitioning of your actions has to enable you to somehow keep accelerating at the opponent. One way of achieving this is with 'flight', which is discussed later.\n\nYou can save time by reloading your system as you land, which then enables the triggering of the next acceleration of your mass at the opponent.\n\nYou don't wind up your body to strike the person as that takes too much time and increases the time of the gap. The body needs to land loaded at the end of the flight. A loaded system is one where you have torque and spring energy available to immediately transition and accelerate you mass again at the opponent. Landing in a lowered position helps in the goal of landing loaded, as it lands the body with potential spring energy.\n\nThe whole system moves as a unit to the new positioning. Everything moves at the same time i.e. the feet, torso, arms all get to the new positioning in one explosive movement in order to create a moment of shock. It's important that the feet move explosively when you transition to the new position. You cannot just turn your feet or only move them a fraction.\n\nThe accelerated mass then provides the energy for delivering a short strike to the opponent as part of the momentum of the whole system. As you transition, no part of your body gets left behind or stops being 'live'. For example, the non-striking hand generally follows the torque of the body and becomes an important part of the loading process.\n\nYou cannot get caught up on the resistance or you won't be able to explode again to a new positioning a fraction of a second later. In essence, you go where the resistance isn't when you transition. The opponent is likely to be mentally stuck on the previous bridge if you are transitioning quickly enough; their mind starts to go 'behind time' in respect to your actions. This is part of why their mind begins to go internal.\n\nBridge Replacement\n\nA bridge is essentially a contact point with your opponent. You cannot get locked onto resistance if you are to create a series of shocks on your opponent, which means that you have to continually make and break bridges.\n\nThere is a gap every time you break a bridge and remake a new one. This gap is important because it is a break in the communication via touch with the opponent, and it acts to disrupt their measurement of your actions.\n\nEvery bridge is an opportunity to affect the opponent but it is also a point of resistance that can prevent you from fully energising if you lock onto it.\n\nOne of the barriers to full energisation is that we naturally fight resistance, which will likely be at the bridge point i.e. the point of contact. That is where our mind will go. We lock our minds and our physical selves to the point of contact of the bridge. People fight at the point where their mind's focus is at, and that is important, as with the right strategy you can take advantage of this fact in the opponent.\n\nWhen you contact the person you form a bridge i.e. even the lightest contact means a bridge is formed. If your bridge is too solid then it is more difficult to transition as you physically lock onto that bridge point and mentally lock onto that point. Throw yourself at the person and give them your accelerated mass but work out how to quickly make the bridge point light so that you can transition. Transitioning ensures that the opponent doesn't have a stable contact point to measure you through the sense of touch. You don't have a strong bridge because you don't want to over-commit and get stuck on resistance.\n\nWe use the fact that people fight resistance. When we suddenly release the bridge point, the resistance disappears and the opponent has nothing to fight until the next bridge/resistance point is made. The opponent's mind gets stuck on the bridge point, but you immediately transition to the next bridge. That is how you get ahead of their time and this creates a cumulative mental effect. You get them further and further behind in time relative to your actions, and it turns their attack / defence mindset into a defence mindset.\n\nGetting in fast in the first instance of the battle creates a looming effect and this helps lock the opponent onto the bridge point for a moment. You cannot be technical with the first 'give' of your accelerated system or you will lose your balance and you won't be loaded and able to transition immediately.\n\nYou have to land loaded and balanced and ready to transition. You cannot start to transition by winding up your body and that includes taking time to sink down. You have to be ready to 'go' from where you land and that is why you don't have two contact points using both arms i.e. two bridges. You don't intentionally disengage the bridge; the transition breaks the bridge. _You have to break a bridge using your whole system._\n\nYou should also try to keep your hands free, as they register too much information and can get stuck on a bridge i.e. on the opponent's resistance. Our instinct is to grab onto something when we are under stress, which is why a lot of battles end in wrestling.\n\nEvery bridge is an opportunity to affect the opponent but it is also a point of resistance potentially preventing you from fully energising if you lock onto it.\n\nGaps are important\n\nYou need a gap between your actions/transitions i.e. the reloading, but it cannot be too large or you will become involved in the opponent's resistance and lose the energy and pressure build-up on the opponent. If you get too involved in their resistance then your body will be locked down to an extent. This stops you from being able to transition in an explosive manner to the next positioning.\n\nThe goal is to break the opponent's intentions towards you and keep it broken so they cannot easily recover. This means you can only have minimal gaps to your actions. It is a series of explosive transitions that create a series of moments of shock, and the shorter the gap between the moments of shock, the greater the cumulative effect on the opponent's mind.\n\nThe gaps also have another purpose. As you accelerate your mass at the opponent, you create a blank moment in your mind and in the opponent's mind. The gap that occurs just after this action is a moment where the opponent's mind starts to recover. The next acceleration of your mass cuts this mental recovery short and this accelerates the internalisation of their mind.\n\nCompression\n\nThe compression of your body as you load and unload through transitioning is required to ensure the effective transmission of energy. Your body has to hold together strongly as one unit and compression allows your accelerated mass to drive energy into the target through a small impact zone, generally from using a 'short arm strike'.\n\nConsider again the medieval knight with a lance / spear, on a horse. At full gallop the knight and his horse has lots of momentum, and he will line up the lance and transmit the energy of the accelerated mass through the tip of the lance. Without stirrups and using their knees, they could not lock themselves onto the horse and a lot of the energy would likely be dissipated. Not having compression is a bit like the knight not having stirrups or not being able to grip the horse with his knees i.e. the impact is as likely to affect him just as much as it affects the opponent.\n\nThe lance is not an example of a 'short arm strike' but consider what happens to the force if the spear bends in the above example? In Kung Fu demonstrations where someone places the point of a spear on their neck and then proceeds to bend the spear, they use a trick. They put a bend in the spear to start with, so that the force is then directed downwards at the middle of the spear, rather than into the tip of the spear which is against their neck or chest. You never see them attempting the demonstration with a spear that has no bend in it. See figure 3.\n\n_Tip: you need to maintain energy in both hands (double power lines) to avoid_ _one side of the body dominating, and therefore_ _losing compression and with it the ability to transition and energise._\n\nDon't try to strike the opponent\n\nWhen you try to hit the opponent, the conscious thought process required will hinder your ability to effectively use your accelerated mass. Your actions cannot be limited by the speed of your mental attack / defence calculations if you are to use your body as a weapon and create enough shock to dismantle your opponent's actions.\n\nIf you try to strike the opponent you will be too slow and you will lose the effect of the forward pressure you were creating through giving your accelerated system. This leaves a gap in the pressure and lets the opponent recover. Remember that the body is the principal weapon. 'Giving yourself' to the opponent has no particular target in mind. This saves time as your mind has less processing to do and this allows you to transition faster, accelerating the whole mass at the opponent again and again.\n\nIf you create pressure and the opponent starts to turn away and appear vulnerable for a moment then don't be tempted to strike them. You should throw your body harder at them and transition even faster. You give everything of yourself with minimal gaps, so that you can attack their mind. Their mind is the weak point, and if it breaks then their body is disrupted for a moment. If you attempt a big strike and it misses or they block it then you have just ruined the cascading effect you were creating and have allowed them to recover mentally and therefore physically.\n\nYou have to go away from the technical solutions and allow yourself to operate in the moment, free of preconceived plans and techniques.\n\nSo, if you are not trying to strike your opponent, then what can you do? One strategy is to transfer the energy of your accelerated mass through a smaller surface area that goes straight into the opponent. An example of this is a 'short arm' strike. The short arm stops the problem of the spear bending as in Figure 1 above.\n\nIf the energy from your accelerated mass is transmitted via a short strike through your palm for instance, then your arm cannot be moving all over the place; the force line has to be stable and direct so that energy can be transmitted effectively.\n\nTip: One of the mistakes you can make is to not consider your own structure and how short-arm palm strikes on entry into the battle can result in your arms getting caught on the opponent's defensive posture and getting your hands bent back. When this happens you will lose compression as your arms get separated.\n\nExplosive Violence\n\nShock breaks the mind / body link. There is a certain level of violence to the use of your accelerated mass that creates the shock on the opponent.\n\nThe body is only a weapon if it can affect the opponent, particularly their mind. It is principally the violence of the energisation through giving your accelerated mass that puts the opponent behind your timing.\n\nYou have to dismantle the opponent/s intentions towards you so that you keep your freedom. That can mean many things. It doesn't mean you have to take out everyone in a group of attackers for instance. The very act of attempting that is likely to result in the group taking you down because you will end up spending too much time on one person.\n\nYou need to affect the opponent/s. They need to experience a level of shock and awe in that moment that you spend with them that makes them hesitate to chase you, so that the group mind is broken and their intentions are dismantled to an extent. They are not so keen to go after a target that is potentially dangerous to the group and the individuals that comprise it.\n\nGiving has violence to it that you wouldn't expect. The strange part is that you are not entering the battle with the intention to knock the person out, as that takes away your freedom. Yet the seriousness, the sharpness, the explosiveness, and the violence have to be a part of the giving of your accelerated mass to your opponent/s.\n\n'Let go' and let the violence out. Violence can only flow when you let go your desires to damage the opponent. Anger or a desire to strike them impedes your ability to fully energise and make your accelerated mass the weapon. Without freedom of the mind you cannot let go. Transitions are a continuous flow and you need to understand the violence aspect of letting go.\n\nMinimising the gaps in your actions is important for the violence to flow. For the next transition to be ripped out quickly, you need to land loaded in a downwards and a sideways dimension i.e. torque is loaded in order to save time for the next transition. There is not time to land from the flight and then try to load the body. Landing in a lowered position helps in the goal of landing loaded as it lands the body with potential spring energy\n\nNote that there is a tendency to fight at a taller level when your transitioning is rapid and this can reduce the energy you are able to generate as well as the effect on the opponent's mind.\n\nThe more we can move our whole compressed system with explosive violence, the more energy we can transmit without being taken off balance by the impact (for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction). The better we can do this the greater the probability we can stand where the opponent wants to stand.\n\nFlight\n\nWhen you fight a single opponent, the best way you can keep accelerating your whole system is if you use flight. You can define flight as both feet leaving the ground. If you don't use flight then you will start either pushing and grappling, or attempt to stabilise your base as much as possible in order to focus on striking, or a combination of both.\n\nHow do you accelerate using flight, and then accelerate again, all without getting stuck on the opponent's resistance? Any answer we attempt to give for this question will result in a dojo, technical shape. Suffice to say, people have to work it out themselves and the answer comes from 'giving' your accelerated mass to your opponent.\n\nTip: a very simple version of flight is to put your feet at the corners of a square (diagonal from each other) and then swap the front foot to the back and the back foot to the front (i.e. to the opposite diagonal).\n\nInternalising the Opponent/s Mind\n\nIn order to stop your opponent in a fight you have to affect them. The best way to achieve this is to attack their mind. Break the opponent's mind and their body ceases to have a driver.\n\nA bigger person has a strength and power advantage over a smaller opponent. If you break their mind / focus / determination / spirit, even for a few moments, then they will not be able to apply their strength and power advantage. You need to create a moment of advantage and then build on it. Think of it as making the opponent cope with a cascading series of effects that overloads their mind.\n\nThe opponent has an intention towards you otherwise there would be no battle. You have to internalise their mind to dismantle that intention. You have to break their focus on you. The opponent can only have intentions if they can focus.\n\nTip: Don't allow the opponent's focus to crystallize, especially in a group situation. Act early and exit the situation before the group can properly lock their focus on you. Use distraction where possible, without sacrificing time.\n\nWe focus better on an object when we maintain our vision on it and can predict its movement i.e. measure what its actions are and predict what it will do next. If you can affect the opponent's vision, then you can affect their focus and their intentions.\n\nYou disrupt the opponent's measurement of you by disrupting their focus on you. In order for their mind to go internal and lose focus, they need to experience shock. Break their mind and you break their focus off you.\n\nYou want the opponent's mind to be lagging behind your actions, so you cannot hesitate and allow their mind to get in sync with your actions. Put them 'behind time' and keep them there. They can recover if you slow down and get locked onto resistance.\n\nYour physical actions need to be applied such that they attack the opponent's mind to create an effect. There are six main ways of attacking the mind:\n\n1. affect their senses e.g. vision\n\n2. internalise their thought process\n\n3. affect their emotions\n\n4. deny them time\n\n5. deny them the ability to measure you\n\n6. access their primitive defence response\n\nAffecting the senses\n\nYou attack the opponent's mind, more specifically their thoughts, through their senses. The senses are sight, touch, taste, hearing, and smell. The first two senses are probably the ones we want to concentrate on affecting i.e. sight and touch.\n\nSight can be affected in a number of ways. For instance, if you can get the opponent to turn away, they will lose vision of you and won't know what to expect next. This can be the start of creating panic in their mind.\n\nBreaking their vision downwards, by fighting at a lowered position, is one way to start the process of breaking their focus on you. As they turn away from you, they lose more sight of you and correspondingly more focus. There is a higher probability the opponent will go defensive, if they lose focus on you and also experience pressure at the same time.\n\nYou can affect the opponent's thoughts using touch e.g. you can cause them pain. You can also not allow the opponent to orientate on you using touch i.e. you don't grab them or allow yourself to be grabbed by them.\n\nHearing, smell, and taste are not as easy to use to affect someone in battle. Yes, Karate has their concept of the kiai, but it probably has as much potential to lock up their own body as it does in distracting an opponent. Interestingly there is a part of the brain that kicks into gear when it hears either the human scream or the crying of babies – probably a survival trait.\n\nInternalise their thought process\n\nWe live our lives switching rapidly between the internal and external minds focus. In typical battle we switch between assessing how our body, breathing etc. is going and our opponents actions, where we want to go, counter them etc.\n\nWhen our mind goes internal, we lose our focus on the external world. When people 'bunker' from too much pressure on their mind, they panic and go internal with their minds focus. They will however build towards going external again, as our survival instincts tell us we need to assess the danger.\n\nThere are multiple ways to internalise an opponent' mind, for instance: pain, distraction, pressure, panic and questioning are all ways of internalising their mind.\n\nOur minds have a range of internalisation ranging from slight to full internalisation. The effect you have on an opponent is in direct proportion to their state of internalisation. The following diagram (figure 2) illustrates the progress of internalisation.\n\nAffect their emotions\n\nFear is an emotion that has a range of effects. Low level fear can cause anxiety whereas high level fear causes panic. The general rule of thumb is – the greater the effect on the opponent, the greater the potential advantage that you can create.\n\nDeny the opponent time\n\nYou can effectively dismantle the opponent's intentions by denying them the time to recover from your actions, or the time to implement their plans and desires. This is important for attacking the opponent's mind. You cannot give them time to recover, or breathing space to enable them to implement a new attack.\n\nYou can avoid the usual issue of timing by denying the opponent time to implement their plans, favourite weapons, responses, etc. They can have no time to come up with solutions.\n\nIf the opponent cannot keep up with the changing attack stimuli; they cannot predict what will happen next, which is an attack on the mind. If they cannot time your actions, then they cannot measure you adequately. That is the start of the internalisation of their thinking.\n\nDisrupt their the ability to measure your actions\n\nKeeping yourself safe is simple in theory. Don't let yourself be hit, and don't let yourself be grabbed. Unfortunately when people hear this, they immediately start making up technical answers on how to stop or deflect strikes, etc.\n\nA better way to state the concept is, do not be measured such that the opponent can strike or grab you. This is best achieved by internalising the opponent's mind and not letting them recover. Do this and the probability is high that you will dismantle your opponent's intentions.\n\nYour attack stimuli should not be easily measured by the opponent. You don't want a constant or consistency of movement that they can start to recognise and allow their mind to recover. If you allow the person to measure you then they can return their focus on you. If you are constant in your approach then they can measure what is happening and return their focus on you. If they cannot measure and predict your actions then it adds to the attack on their mind.\n\nYou actually need a gap (minimal) to your actions if you are to keep the stimuli changing e.g. if you try to push the opponent around the floor then they can quickly measure what you are doing and recover.\n\nThe opponent will find it much more difficult to keep up with the changing action of a rapidly transitioning accelerating mass, which is why you need a combination of rapid transitions plus a change in position, or height, or preferably both at the same time.\n\nWith every transition of giving your accelerated mass to your opponent, you need to rob the opponent of time i.e. put their mental measurement of your actions further behind the actual timing of your actions.\n\nWhen you first go in on the opponent, they are at their most ready for you as they have the best measurement of you. As you break their mind (get them to give up mentally) their measurement of you gets worse.\n\nYou can also affect measurement in the first instance through distraction or through behaviour that is not what the opponent expected in the plan they had when they approached you.\n\nOffenders have a plan in their head, a script of how they think the assault / attack will go. If you use a distraction strategy then you internalise them. They will have to make adjustments to their plan i.e. you affect their measurement of you as your expected actions differ from their prediction. Offenders pick the victim based on their assessment of people and they are practiced at this and expect the scenario to play out as it usually does. You give a response that doesn't track with their script / expectations and they will be affected.\n\nTip: from the first hint of a possible altercation, you need to disrupt the opponent's measurement of you.\n\nPrimitive defence response\n\nThe primitive defence responses are freeze and then fight or flight. We always freeze even if for a split second to decide how we will best survive the threat. Obviously you would prefer to provoke the freeze or flight response in the opponent rather than the fight response. Overwhelming pressure can cause people to assume a purely defensive posture. In a sense this happens once their conscious mind has been broken by the pressure you give them.\n\nWhen you internalise the opponent's mind i.e. you send their thought processes inward, then you begin the processing of degrading their fight capability. Create enough pressure and you can trigger an emotional response such as fear, and create the conditions for flipping their mind into flight or freeze.\n\nIn summary\n\nA simplified model which summarises this chapter can be seen below.\n\n****\n\nForward Pressure\n\nForward pressure is about always being there, denying the opponent space and time, so that you are attacking the opponent's mind first and foremost. By giving your accelerated mass to your opponent/s as explosively as you can, you end up 'standing where they want to stand' which creates forward pressure.\n\nThe greater the forward pressure and the greater the impact of any short-arm strikes, the greater the impact of your actions, and the more the opponent has to deal with, which hopefully reduces their options of attack. Enough pressure and they will start to turn away from the attack.\n\nIf you try to strike the opponent then you leave too big a gap in time and lose forward pressure, which allows their mind and their body to recover.\n\nWithout a minimal gap to the transitioning of the continual giving of your accelerated mass to your opponent, you will not be able to generate continuous forward pressure. If you were to push someone around the room then they would be able to resist you and you would lose the forward pressure.\n\nBy throwing your body and having a minimal gap the opponent has a much harder time locking onto you with their resistance - they cannot adapt fast enough to your changing position.\n\nA lot of exponents, who are focused on the idea of bridging, get stuck on pushing forward against their opponent when it comes to forward pressure. I suspect they will need lots of luck against someone with a grappling system.\n\nTip: you will need the ability to create forward pressure when you are close to the person in battle, or if they are backing away from the pressure. If you chase after them throwing strikes then you will be too slow and probably not catch them. If you leave too much of a gap in pressure then you will reduce the effect you are having on them.\n\nAffecting the opponent's balance\n\nIf you attempt to affect an opponent's balance under battle conditions by trying to either push them or pull them off balance then you are unlikely to achieve much of an effect on them. The dojo techniques of this nature work best on unresisting students.\n\nIt is through giving your accelerated mass that the opponent is affected. The more you try to give your mass through the opponent, the more they have to deal with all of your momentum and energy.\n\nStand where they want to stand\n\nYou end up standing where they want to stand because of the transitioning of your accelerated mass at the opponent. They move in response to the overwhelming pressure you give them.\n\nStanding where they want to stand stops you from always attempting to stay on the outside of the battle, but don't force it. Just as the opponent has to turn away themselves, they need to move from the space we want to occupy i.e. we affect them and they move defensively away.\n\nOnce the opponent gets within striking range, you have to be there where they are, wrecking their plans and measurement of you, and putting their mind under pressure. The faster your entry, the more they only have time for a defensive reaction.\n\nGetting in close has a disruptive effect on the opponent and it helps you in getting the person to turn away from you. It creates an effect, whereas being further out from the person doesn't influence their vision and reactions to the same extent. Remember that we are aiming to attack the opponent's mind.\n\nYou will notice however that it is harder to make your body stay together and not get out of shape when you are up close to the opponent. The solution to this is to train the body to work in compression and make the body solid and able to act as one unit.\n\nVision of the opponent\n\nYou need the transitions to have an element of violence and that requires you to have at least some peripheral vision on the opponent. You need some vitality; when you look at the person they should see how alive and electric you are. When you look at them you should have an overwhelming need to be there, where they are, giving all of yourself.\n\nYour peripheral vision has to be on the opponent as you need something that is alive to spark you. If you are looking at the floor then you are looking at something dead and your mental driver is going to be heavily affected.\n\n_Tip: try maintaining peripheral vision on the person's head in order to spark the violence in your actions when you are using your accelerated mass as the weapon_.\n\n****\n\nAccelerated behaviour\n\nAccelerated behaviour is about the acceleration of your whole system, not just one part of it.\n\nIt turns off the thinking / analytical brain which frees the mind because accelerated action doesn't give the analytical mind time to assess, plan, worry, feel anxiety etc. It doesn't allow the mind to go internal. Accelerated action forces your mind into the 'now' where you won't react as the opponent wants you to.\n\nEvery aspect of your self-defence strategy should be built around the mind being free and accelerated behaviour is the best tool to achieve this.\n\nIn a group encounter you accelerate to an exit or safety zone. Against a single opponent you use 'giving' and transitioning to achieve an accelerated behaviour that switches off the analytical mind. If you concern yourself with trying to put a shape to your giving, then you are stuck in a thinking mind.\n\nIf your mind is free then your body can switch on much more easily. A trapped mind locks your body up. Just take the example of what fear does to your body – it creates a freeze response.\n\nEach transition, in a single opponent battle, is in effect a 'switching on' of the body. If your mind is free then you will switch more effectively. You don't focus on striking the opponent as the mind has to be in 'thinking mode' if you are trying to do such things.\n\nAs simple as it sounds, you just need to accelerate your whole system at the opponent and see what comes out. You still train the elements of compression, transitioning, short-arm strikes driven by the accelerated system, etc. but when you bring it to the battle field it just comes out as part of giving yourself. The body is just trained so that it will come out as it needs to.\n\nYou build your art around accelerated behaviour to make it more effective e.g. in a group encounter you go through the mid-region of the opponent if possible. Going through the mid-region bends their vision downward and the force from your accelerated mass goes through their mid-region. This disrupts their system for a few moments i.e. it breaks the join between their torso and their legs, reducing their ability to resist you, or chase you.\n\n****\n\nOutcomes\n\nWhat outcomes should you be aiming to achieve with your strategies for battle? An obvious answer is that you want your opponent to give up, to submit or surrender even if only for a few moments.\n\nDuring battle, most people continually switch between a defensive mindset and an attacking mindset. You need their mindset to be switched into defence for long enough such that they stop attacking you and just cover up, bunker down, try to get away, or go to a foetal position.\n\nUltimately you need to exit the situation safely. That is the primary goal.\n\nGetting the opponent to turn away from you\n\nTurning away from something that you find overwhelming (too much for your brain to handle) is a natural reaction. In battle, you have a few seconds to get the opponent's eyes off you and turning away. People give up and turn away when their mind says 'no' because they don't want to face the pressure.\n\nThey turn because of the shock from your violent actions combined with forward pressure affecting their mind and overwhelming it for a few moments. They turn due to a defensive reaction and once you see their back you don't let them turn back towards you; keep the pressure on.\n\nWe want the opponent's back because it sends people further along the scale of internalisation. If they cannot see you then they cannot measure you and they don't know what is coming. The unknown is scary. People need to think (have the perception) they are being hurt in order to be affected by your actions. The strange part is that you may not be hurting or damaging them to any great degree in reality. It all comes down to what their mind believes is happening.\n\nNote that you cannot wrench people around (except in dojo situations where you have compliant students); they have to turn away themselves because of the intensity of your actions.\n\nUltimately you want to put the opponent under pressure and see their vision / focus go off you. If it doesn't then you are not affecting them and you need to get out fast. You don't want to see their face; you want to see their back.\n\nForward pressure is one part of the equation. You need to pressure the opponent, to be in their space and give them the feeling that you are continually coming at them, giving them no room to operate and no chance to rest. It is a part of attacking their brain, and it is their brain that you have to overwhelm, if only for a moment.\n\nYou need to create a large cascading effect on the opponent. If you don't, then they are not going to be overly bothered by what you are doing, which means they won't react / behave as you want them to. They need to be affected by your physical actions.\n\nNot every transition of giving the opponent your accelerated mass is about impacting energy through a short-arm strike. Some of the transitions may be more about stopping them from turning back towards you, and allowing you to load more fully for the following transition so that it can have a greater effect.\n\nAs they start to turn from you, then you can use larger impacts from your forearm to help keep their balance affected and stop them turning back easily. You can eventually use closed fist strikes on their back.\n\nKeep your peripheral vision on the person so you can see the effect and take advantage of when they turn. This helps you to keep going through the person.\n\nFlinch response\n\nIf the opponent doesn't have a lot of mental toughness, then it's possible that you can use a flinch response to get them to start turning away.\n\nA flinch response helps people turn because they are protecting their face i.e. their vision. It's a defensive reaction, but you only get flinch effect if you make them deal with something.\n\nTip: experiment in your training to see what affect you can have on an opponent.\n\nControl\n\nThe objective is to send the opponent out of control rather than trying to control them. You should not be trying to control people, as that is a trap which will ensnare you in their resistance.\n\nEnergy is better used to send people out of control, to create instability and disruption. You have to learn to thrive in the chaos. Everyone else is trying to lock everything down so that they can establish order and dominance. You have to aim for freedom, especially where there are multiple attackers.\n\nCreating constants in behaviour\n\nIt is normally an opponent's unpredictability that causes your plans to fail – particularly techniques. Plans fail because the opponents are not dummies like the ones you practiced on in the dojo. You need to make the opponent somewhat predictable again as if they were a dummy.\n\nYou have to put them under so much stress that you make their actions more predictable e.g. their physical actions are reduced to defensive actions when their brain is heavily stressed.\n\nAffecting the opponent quickly\n\nYou need to affect the opponent quickly or get out. You don't want to spend time in a battle getting injured if you don't have to. Don't let your ego rule your thinking. If, after a few seconds, the opponent is not affected, it may be a good time to leave.\n\n****\n\nThe System\n\nThe system described in this book gives you the opportunity to develop a universal approach to single and multiple attackers. The following model (Figure 5) is a basic summary of this.\n\nThe goal is to get the right outcome and you should be developing your art to produce the right outcome, which is to affect the opponent mentally such that you keep yourself safe. Note that you want outcomes, not outputs like a technique that will rarely create an effect.\n\nRegardless of whether you face a single opponent or multiple opponents, the outcomes you want are:\n\n  * Don't allow your opponent/s to measure you\n\n  * Send the opponent/s mind internal and don't let them recover\n\n  * Never be grabbed\n\n  * Never go to ground\n\n  * Get to the exit (particularly for multiple attackers)\n\nThe effect you create on your opponent is a product of giving them your fully energised system, without being measured by them.\n\nFully Energise\n\nMartial arts exponents are always talking about energy in many different forms. Here we are primarily interested in the four energies generated by the acceleration of your whole system moving as ONE unit. These are energies generated from: gravity, torque, spring energy, and linear acceleration. A useful mnemonic in understanding how these work in unison is UDINOS, which stands for up/down, in/out, and side/side.\n\nUp/down movement allows gravity to accelerate your body mass down on the opponent as well as enabling spring energy. Side/side gives you torque energy, and in combination with linear acceleration, they create enough energy to affect the opponent. If you only have one energy source then the effect you create will be vastly reduced, as will the pressure on the opponent.\n\nWhat do we mean by fully energise? This is not an easy term to define such that a student of the arts could envision it. In a way it is the ability to give everything you have to your opponent, but martial artists rarely know how to do that. The traditional arts prevent you from fully energising because you get locked onto your opponent's resistance. In order to fully energise you need to continually give your accelerated mass to your opponent with minimal gaps.\n\nGive all of yourself to the opponent\n\nOne of the realities in martial arts is that the faster you move your hands, the slower you move your feet. The reasons for this revolve around stability and balance.\n\nYou can also think about this in another way i.e. you cannot do two complex activities at the same time. People talk about multi-tasking as if they can do two complex things at once, but they are merely rapidly switching from one task to another and back again.\n\nIn practical terms you cannot do complex movements with your arms and complex movements with your feet at the same time. One is dominant at any one time and energy generation is limited by this. It's another reason why complex techniques fail to work in battle. To overcome this problem you need a system of battle where you move your body as a whole, as ONE unit.\n\nOne of the main benefits of using the whole of your accelerated mass, is your body becomes the weapon and your energy can be transmitted into your opponent through a point. An example of this type of the energy transmission is a knight on their horse charging at a target while holding a lance / spear. The tip of the spear transmits the energy generated by the accelerated mass of the horse and rider.\n\nDo not get stuck on resistance\n\nThis system depends on your freedom from the opponent's resistance. If you get stuck on your opponent's resistance then you will not be able to use your accelerated mass to affect your opponent and your energy will decrease dramatically.\n\nDo not get stuck on resistance, either mentally or physically. This cannot be emphasised strongly enough!\n\n****\n\nMindset for Battle\n\nIn battle your mindset is typically focused on attack and defence, between weapons and targets. You have to train out this natural focus on attack and defence, and replace it with another mindset.\n\nGroup encounters give us an indication that another mindset is not only possible but desirable. The biggest difference in a group encounter, as compared to a single opponent, is that time is denied to you when there are many opponents. You can think of this as being a natural condition of group encounters.\n\nThis lack of time does not allow your mind to focus on attack and defence and therefore become trapped by the resistance being offered by the opponent's.\n\nThe problem with taking this idea of the mind not being trapped, back into a single person encounter, is that you now have a lot of time again and the natural instincts of protection (defence) and attack can occur again. You need to train your mind to remain free of the trap of attack and defence in a single opponent situation.\n\nNote that weapons lock your focus into the attack / defence mindset unlike anything else.\n\nGiving as a mental driver\n\nGiving is the most effective mental driver when using an accelerated mass strategy. Under pressure, a mental driver will fail if it's too complex, as there is no time to adjust to the opponent's actions. Pressure is the great destroyer of the technical solutions created in the dojo.\n\nOne of the main advantages of giving is that it cuts out hesitation, which is a fighter's main weakness. Hesitation comes from trying to implement a plan, or to intercept and counteract your opponent's actions – the attack/defence mindset.\n\nGiving creates blank moments (of conscious thought) and this reduces your ability to get caught up in the opponent's resistance.\n\nGiving also has the added bonus of affecting the opponent's balance. You affect their balance through impacting because of a body bump, or of a more focused impact (e.g. short-arm strike), or your leg impacting their knee because you are now standing where they want to stand. You don't try to do any of this deliberately; it is a product of giving.\n\nOne of the challenges to this system is that as a mindset, 'giving' is not natural. You have to make it that way. You reprogram your mind, which then allows your body to act as it needs to. Once you have your mind programmed then it becomes easy to switch into the giving mindset when the pressure is on.\n\nIt becomes a simple matter then of switching into battle and giving yourself. You don't consider winning or losing and therefore your anxiety is less and your mind remains free.\n\nAttack / defence mindset\n\nWhen you aim to strike a particular target e.g. the opponent's head, then your mind has to do a continuing set of calculations to get your fist onto their head. Their head is somewhat of a moving target making the job much harder. During this time your mind also has to deal with defensive issues such as strikes from your opponent. This all slows you down. The attack / defence mindset makes your body slower and your transitions slower as you need a relatively stable base in order to generate power for your strikes. If you lock your focus onto attempting to strike the opponent then your mind is no longer free.\n\nWith freedom you are not subject to anxiety that your plan has not worked. You don't go internal. You give your accelerated mass to the opponent (the body is a weapon) with minimal gaps until they give up or you get away.\n\nEveryone has their chink in the armour i.e. the point of weakness in the mind where their focus / determination / spirit will break. Pressure levels delivered by giving yourself to the opponent with minimal gaps can bring this about, and everyone has a different breaking point. Bigger people sometimes have not experienced their breaking point and the shock of reaching it can disrupt them greatly.\n\nYou just have to dismantle the opponent's intentions for a short period of the battle. You are not really breaking their spirit because if you leave a big enough gap then people can recover. So you are not breaking their spirit but merely opening up a few temporary cracks.\n\nIn the traditional arts your mind is continually switching between an attack mindset and a defence mindset.\n\nIn the attack mindset you are continually looking for opportunities to get a strike on the opponent, or take them to the ground, etc.\n\nWhen the opponent is looking to do the same, then your mind switches into defence and you protect yourself, waiting for the opportunity to attack again.\n\nThe timing of your actions and that of your opponent are generally in sync. No one is really behind time more than a moment and then they catch up again. This affects the amount of pressure that you can subject your opponent to, and limits the amount of energy your system can generate.\n\nThere is no doubt that fighters can balance these mindsets and produce good results against a single opponent. The problem arises however when you have more than one opponent. This is where these mindsets get you into trouble. If you want a universal art then an attack / defence mindset won't enable you to handle all situations.\n\nGiving yourself to your opponent, i.e. giving them your accelerated mass to deal with, has one distinct advantage over the mind-set that comes with an attack / defence strategy. This advantage relates to hesitation.\n\nAn attack / defence mindset has lots of hesitation built into it. You are always assessing targets and threats. In contrast, giving yourself to the opponent is much easier on your mind. It allows you to 'do' without too much thinking.\n\nThe mind and body as one\n\nA survival situation where you are running away from the danger as quickly as possible is commonly described as flight (not the flight we refer to in order to make your body the weapon). Your whole body is engaged but your legwork dominates the situation and the mind is focused on such things as keeping your balance, staying on your feet, maintaining the ability to move as quickly as possible, looking for safe exits, etc. You get a sense of it when you run down a steep hill.\n\nThe 'mind and body as one' indicates a single purpose and mental and physical actions that are consistent with that purpose. It indicates a constant. How then does this fit in with the typical approach to battle?\n\nIn a typical fight your mind generally switches between attack and defence. When you are in attack mode, your mind is on your weapons e.g. your hands, feet, elbows, knees etc. as well as the targets on your opponent e.g. their head, legs, etc. When you are in defence mode, your mind is focused on your opponent's weapons and on protecting the obvious targets on your own body.\n\nThe problem with the typical fight is that the mind is always switching back and forth. Can the mind and body truly work as one when this is happening? Our survival response doesn't indicate that this is the case.\n\nWhat lesson can we draw from this? We can experience the mind and body working as one when our mind is focused on our freedom and our actions are dominated by our whole system. This is a constant that can be developed, modified, and applied to battle.\n\nTo do this you need to approach your training differently for battle. If your mind is focused on weapons then they will dominate your actions, splitting your mind, body and energy in the process. Unfortunately most fights are social encounters which lend themselves to a focus on weapons and typical training regimes reinforce these habits.\n\nTo access the possibilities that flow from the mind and body acting as one, you have to use your whole body in battle, and ensure your mind and coordination does not revert to a focus on your strikes, kicks, etc. when you encounter resistance from an opponent.\n\nBlank moments\n\nAs the pressure increases, the mind experiences blank moments i.e. moments where the conscious recognition of the processing of sensory information is reduced.\n\nYour vision is a prime example. You experience blank moments in your vision if you accelerate yourself towards any object e.g. a person or a wall. As you get closer you begin to enter a blank moment. Possibly the brain cannot handle it and that is why the mind blanks.\n\nNot only does your mind experience a blank moment but your opponent's mind does as well. You however are prepared for that blank moment and they are not. Typically a fighter wants to see the fight at all times, especially as their mindset is one of attack / defence.\n\nWhen you close rapidly with an opponent, there is usually a level of panic, people grapple i.e. grab and hang on for safety, and the fight ends up on the ground.\n\nBy transitioning however you avoid the grappling scenario and can take advantage of the opponent's blank moment so that it is a useful attack on their mind. Cascading blank moments can lead to rising panic in the opponent.\n\nGiving yourself to the opponent is not affected by blank moments and is in fact enhanced by them as you have fewer distractions to deal with and therefore you experience less hesitation to your actions. You should aim to increase the pressure, wreck the opponent's mindset, and create the conditions where your own strategy / actions will thrive and get an advantage.\n\nThe harder you transition, the more violent and explosive your giving is, then the more blank moments you and your opponent will have. What you want to happen is that you have a series of blank moments inter-dispersed with a vision / snapshot of what is happening so that you can see where you have to go.\n\nYour mindset will be important if you are to avoid trying to turn everything into a technique. Focus on freedom and giving your accelerated system to your opponent.\n\nThe right mental driver\n\nThe following diagram (figure 7) is a representation of two different ways of thinking about battle.\n\nSurvival thinking is a much safer approach in terms of dealing with the risk of a situation, but not everyone is looking for that. People talk about self-defence but when you look at the language being used, there is a lot of risk being ignored.\n\nA lot of the thinking around fighting in the traditional arts is actually dominated by the idea of winning. Our ego drives us to win and this promotes an attack / defence mindset.\n\nSurvival includes, freeze, and fight or flight. It is too broad and open-ended a concept to be the right mental driver for your action in battle. Freedom is the ultimate goal that sits in the background, but in itself it will not drive you to fully energise. Anger will lock your body up and burn you out mentally.\n\nYou want your opponents to experience a level of violence that will affect their mind, but it is not the violence that comes from anger as that affects you too much. You want their mind to \"go under\" as that is what dismantles their intentions. The transitions have to have a cumulative effect, but if you break the chain of effective transitions then they have a chance to recover their focus on you. The opponent's mind has to lag behind your actions further and further.\n\nSo what is the one thing to mentally drive the body to fully energise as well as keep all the other rules? The only solution we have come up with is \"giving\". You have to give all of yourself as explosively as you can, so that it has an element of violence to it. You empty yourself of all other plans, any desire to hit the opponent or do something to them, any anger, etc. and you GO!\n\nThat first GO is the entry into the battle to the first bridge. The subsequent transitions are basically an explosion of giving each time of your whole system. When you do this, you then start going through people and standing where they stand. Of course you still need to sort out the issues such as not getting too close and crunched up against the opponent such that you cannot transition, but this is something you sort out with practice.\n\nYou will generally fail when you try to attain the outcome i.e. you plan to try and stand where they want the stand.\n\nThe correct mental driver is the most important thing for you as that is how you will progress. You have to train yourself to switch on and energise up. It is giving yourself that drives each transition and that is how you follow the person if they back away.\n\nIt is hard to definitively say what the thinking is after the first transition, because if you energise fully, then the mind will experience blank moments. Perhaps the mind recognises when the opponent is in trouble and goes in 'for the kill' to keep the pressure up. It doesn't matter how you do it – as long as you maintain full energisation and ensure the opponent does not recover their focus.\n\nTime and Timing\n\nIn terms of time, you want to minimise any hesitation, otherwise you will get behind the opponent's timing. Certainly, if you hesitate, you won't be able to put their actions behind the timing of your actions.\n\nYou want the opponent's mind to be lagging behind the timing of your actions. Transitions are meant to disrupt their flow of sensory information and put them further behind time in a cascading process of disorientation with their mind hopefully 'going under'. If you mess up then you allow their mind to catch up to the timing of your actions and they recover.\n\nIt is the violence of the energisation through giving yourself that puts them behind the timing of your actions. There is an emptiness of the mind except for the violence of giving i.e. no anger, no desire to hit the person, etc. This means you cannot lock onto resistance. You have to keep the body together and accelerate the mass for energy, and keep moving.\n\nBefore the battle\n\nThe first part of any encounter tends to be the social interaction. You need to avoid this in order to keep your freedom, both physical and mental. Using a 'busy mind' strategy can help you avoid getting trapped by the opponent's attempts to lock your mind, which then locks your body. Speed your thinking up; you just need to go get something or you need to see someone and you will be back in a minute. Start moving!\n\nOur natural instinct is to freeze when initially confronted with a threat, and strategies like the busy mind are aimed at avoiding this mental lockdown. In a group situation you can take advantage of people expecting this reaction and move towards an exit immediately instead of freezing and assessing. That puts you ahead of time relative to the group i.e. they expected you to hesitate and be vulnerable to further hesitation once they engage you in verbal threats etc. Instead, because you moved, they are now a few seconds behind your actions.\n\nThe first rule is to try to always be at the right distance. If you aren't sure of the situation then stay at a safe distance i.e. just outside of kicking / striking range but not so far away that the opponent feels the need to move closer. You can feel your mind start to worry about weapons and scenarios as soon as they close the distance into weapon range, at which point you have lost some of your freedom.\n\nAccelerated movement of your whole system will free your mind instantly. You are either going to an exit, or you are giving them your accelerated mass. You only want the second option to occur if you have exhausted all other options, or it is actually the safest option, which is never going to be an easy call.\n\nMaintaining your freedom is at the heart of your strategies. It is safest to develop a range of strategies for ensuring the fight never has to go physical.\n\nFreedom on the mental side of the equation enables you to switch faster into the physical, if it becomes necessary. You cannot be hyper-alert all the time or you will become paranoid. Unless you live in a war zone or gang territory, you can live and think normally with reasonable safety. Being friendly in the face of adversity and antagonism as you make your exit will let you avoid most situations and leaving quickly will get you out of almost all the rest. Make your decision early before what many people would consider to be a socially acceptable time frame. Walk fast in another direction and most people will not bother to chase you. Acting crazy won't hurt either, we tend to avoid crazy people as we don't like unpredictability.\n\nYour awareness\n\nIf you are using your accelerated mass for battle then you experience moments of awareness as your system is loading, in-between the blank moments created by accelerating at the opponent. In a group attack you use these moments to make decisions about moving towards the exit, or the next person on the path of progression to safety.\n\nFor a single opponent you have to round them up, look for effect, and exit the situation if there is no effect being created, or if you can disengage and exit safely.\n\nShutting off the conscious mind\n\nWhen you give yourself with enough seriousness / violence / purpose then you shut the conscious mind down for a moment every time you accelerate at the opponent i.e. transition. It is the conscious mind that gets people trapped in what they are doing, or what their opponent is doing. People want to see what is happening, they want to watch themselves execute a fancy manoeuvre, or see the effect on the opponent, etc.\n\nAs a consequence they start reacting to the opponent and this leads to hesitation. They are never 'in the moment' but instead are always in past time as their mind takes time to process what they are seeing. The problem you face is that this is perfectly natural. The whole point of Buddhism is for your awareness to exist in the present moment and it takes people decades to achieve the state of mind that allows this – they have to free their mind of all the desires, needs, fears, delusions, etc.\n\nOf course we want to shut down our conscious mind for most of the encounter whereas the Buddhists are interested in a heightened awareness all the time. The similarity lies in removing the mental garbage that holds you back.\n\nGiving, while simple, is not natural but it might be easier to get to it in a survival situation, where you have no time and no choice, and you just have to 'go'. You ultimately have to trick your brain into allowing you to achieve it. The good part is that it is simple. Once you get it then you never lose it.\n\nBarriers to achieving giving are almost always likely to be mental. Give up your expectations of battle, your fears of losing, your dreams of winning and being a hero, your desire to please a teacher, and your anxiety about whether you are doing it 'right'. These are all mental blocks to giving. You have to let go!\n\nWe use the acceleration of our body to help shut down our conscious mind. Being your own teacher means that you don't constantly seek approval that you are doing it right, which means your mind has more freedom.\n\nNever allow your mind to be locked into the battle or into an attack / defence mindset. Giving yourself should be your only commitment otherwise your mind should be free.\n\nNever split your focus\n\nThe mind and body have to work as ONE if you are to fully energise. Your body and mind need to have the same focus and work together in order to maintain the giving of your accelerated mass to your opponent.\n\nSplitting your focus will prevent you from fully energising. A split of focus can take multiple forms e.g. thinking about striking your opponent while you are attempting to give your whole system, or focusing on another opponent while you are physically dealing with someone else.\n\nA simple rule to physically help you avoid splitting your focus is your head, hands, torso and legs should all move as one unit in one direction i.e. giving your accelerated mass.\n\nGetting rid of the mental blocks to giving\n\nGiving forces us into a quasi-survival response. It shuts down the thinking brain and launches us into battle with no thought of techniques or solutions. Giving allows us to not see the opponent's weapons, size, style etc. What you don't see, you don't have to solve or worry about.\n\nWhen you attempt to move through a group of attackers, it is much easier to shut down the conscious mind once you start accelerating. When your confidence builds then you cease to worry about the group taking you down. You plough through them with scant regard for their size and weapons.\n\nThe biggest problem comes from when you first see the group in front of you and your fear levels rise rapidly. To get rid of that mental block, you just have to go, and give everything you have. The acceleration through the group dissolves the mental blocks.\n\nWhen you face a single opponent the mental blocks to giving are a much bigger problem because you are choosing to stick around and do battle.\n\nWhat are these mental blocks? The biggest components are our desires, our fears / anxieties, and our delusions.\n\nWhen we face our opponent, what are our potential desires? Some are probably: to win, to strike them, to create an effect on them, to be a hero in front of our peers (ego), to not be hit i.e. stop them from hitting you, to execute a technique to prove it works, etc.\n\nWhat are our potential fears / anxieties? There is a long list: the fear of being attacked. fear of losing in front of others – injured pride, fear of being hurt / physically injured, fear of being hit, fear of being bullied, fear of our technique not working, fear of how big the opponent is, fear of their tough appearance e.g. tattoos and the assumption of added danger, and fear of potential weapons, etc.\n\nAll these things add to the mental blocks that will stop you from giving. Kids that leap off objects and make adults catch them demonstrate a level of giving that most adults cannot emulate. You have to rethink what giving means. You cannot stand in front of the opponent and think about the technique / strike you will use, or focus on what they may do.\n\nYou have to let go of your fears, desires etc. What drives you then? This is not an easy one to answer. Giving has a determination about it that comes from convincing your brain that you have no other option but to give everything you have to the opponent. There is a 'shock and awe' or explosive violence to it that helps in a large part to create the effect. You look at the opponent and you don't care who they are or what they can do.\n\nOf course your defences have to be built into your giving, however you cannot for instance plan to come in low when you are facing the opponent, as that is a plan. You don't think about standing where they stand but that is how you will end up. Think about the kid launching themselves at the adult; they have no plan other than to fly and make the adult catch them.\n\nThe mind is not in the hands\n\nIf your mind is in your hands i.e. your focus is striking the opponent, and you will unload your system as you deliver the strike. This means you have to reload your system, which takes time, and you will lose a degree of energy in your accelerated mass. It gives the opponent the opportunity to get back in sync with your timing.\n\nYou want the opponent to be behind time so that their defensive reactions are more pronounced because their mind is under attack, forcing their body to react naturally to the stressors by giving a defensive reaction. When you are in time sync with the opponent then they can see what is coming and it therefore has less effect on their mind.\n\nA fundamental change is required to take the mind out of your hands and put it into a different focus e.g. positional, exits, etc.\n\nIf you try to strike your opponent you have to lock up your arm to a degree which locks up your feet, and the rotation of your torso. For instance, when you throw your mass at the opponent, you can rotate your torso 120 degrees in the flight. Try to punch someone and you can rotate your torso 45 degrees at most. If you don't move your whole system then you split your senses.\n\nThe accelerated mass must keep moving. All striking arts require the feet to be grounded in order to strike. If you try and strike the opponent, you will stop and ground yourself. This goes against the principle of giving and using your system under acceleration.\n\nA high percentage of strikes either miss the target, graze the target, or only partially impact the target because it is not easy to hit a moving target e.g. getting a fist onto someone's head when they are ducking and weaving.\n\nWhen you explode your whole system at a target, which is effectively the whole of the opponent, you are not concerned where the 'tip of the spear' strikes, so you are unlikely to miss.\n\nWhen you 'give', you cannot decide what they will get e.g. an impact via a short-arm strike, or a body bump where the energy is transferred through a larger impact area such as your forearm. What the opponent receives just comes out as part of the action of giving and there is no time to plan. You are transitioning your system to the next bridge too quickly for your mind to plan what you are going to give the opponent. When you compress as you land, you will load your system automatically because you build the potential for spring and torque energy.\n\nIf you don't give yourself effectively then you won't move the opponent, which means that you won't have enough room for the next transition and you end up getting stuck to their resistance.\n\nThere is no set shape to giving, but a few things will tell you if you are on the right track. Your feet will never feel like they are locked down and cannot move, and you will transition naturally i.e. it will happen before you could think of doing it.\n\nGetting the mind in the right place generally fixes all the other problems. People tend to try to fix all the problems e.g. transitioning, footwork, etc. as if they are mere technical issues and it doesn't work because their mind is still the problem.\n\n****\n\nFreedom\n\nIf you are good at self-defence then things should rarely get to the battle stage. In fact you could start thinking of battle as a failure of your Martial Art.\n\nYou only give yourself if there is no choice but battle i.e. all of your self-defence strategies such as using distractions, tricks, busy mind, keeping moving and not getting locked down, etc. haven't worked and you are forced by a protagonist into a physical encounter.\n\nHow do you know that point has been reached? Essentially you decide that there has been an unacceptable loss of freedom. When they are involved in a fight, students go back to their club and their instructor tells them to train harder but they rarely get coached in improving the skills that allow them to maintain their freedom. If you don't practice those then you cannot access them when you are under pressure and experiencing panic.\n\nIf you want a character to switch into, when you are getting pressure from someone, then aim for a busy character who has to do something or be somewhere e.g. late for meeting the wife. Slightly crazy is always a good vibe to give off as we are socially programmed to avoid such people - they are too unpredictable.\n\nBusy mind is a strategy for stopping the person from measuring you. As soon as you come back they will start measuring you again so you go off to do something else. It is used to stops persons being able to distract you through fear when they posture or make threats and it acts to dismantle their intentions.\n\nYou want your behaviour to be difficult for a potential attacker to assess and measure – sound familiar!\n\nSo you use all your strategies e.g. busy mind, etc. to help maintain your freedom to the point where you decide there has been an unacceptable loss of freedom and you then switch on and give yourself. Note that you could cut the battle short by giving yourself and using the initial neutralisation and hesitation you create in the opponent, to make your exit.\n\nThe big mistake people make is they allow themselves to get locked down. They get trapped by the social norms of how people should interact.\n\nTake the example of someone who approaches you. They may want to ask you the time. If they stop at an acceptable distance and make no threatening movements then your assessment of your freedom is that everything is okay. If they were to close the distance to where you are uncomfortable and feeling threatened then don't wait for them, instead get busy and get moving. It doesn't matter if they only wanted to ask for directions. They can just learn how to approach people properly in future if they want something.\n\nIf you stop and assume a defensive posture, even if it is only putting your arm out, then you will be forced into a physical encounter if their intentions are hostile. Your mistake was to get locked down and lose your freedom.\n\nWhen people are dominated by their ego (sense of self), which is pretty well everyone, then they actually give up their freedom voluntarily so that they get the event to happen and therefore have the opportunity to win.\n\nWhen they do a martial art, they are unfortunately being programmed into giving up their freedom at the earliest opportunity e.g. I'm being threatened in this fashion and the answer is to do this technique to the attacker.\n\nThe idea of 'freedom' is useful to stop you getting mentally trapped between being sensible and being a hero\n\nRespect verses Value\n\nBeing respectful is about being polite. You don't have to value what people are saying or doing i.e. you don't have to believe in it, but being polite will generally keep you out of battle.\n\nStop being mentally grabbed. If you aren't forming counter-arguments in your mind or taking offense to what is being said to you, then your mind is not getting locked into the situation. If you don't value what they say then why should you care; if you don't care, then why get upset and mentally trapped by it.\n\nPressure\n\nWhen you are under pressure e.g. in serious battle with an opponent or multiple opponents, then anything complicated is not going to be of use to you; there simply isn't time for an intricate series of movements. This is why most techniques only operate in the dojo environment.\n\nBoxing for example works great up to a medium pressure level because of its relative simplicity and economy of movement. The brain doesn't have to over think for the body to perform, and can manage to compensate for changes in the opponent. When the pressure is increased, or grappling occurs, then the brain cannot compensate anymore and the boxing breaks down.\n\nThe fancier the technique, the less the brain is able to compensate for changes from the opponent and it fails. The body has to be able to perform the action under stress.\n\nTake the example of a technique that takes two seconds to perform. Your focus is locked into trying to get that movement to occur and affect the opponent and you fall behind time as they react and wreck your movements.\n\nThis tells you that you cannot get stuck on shape. The more free you keep the brain, the better your body can compensate for changes in the opponent. Conversely if you increase the pressure to high levels on the opponent, then their brain cannot compensate for your actions and their fighting strategy breaks down.\n\nGiving allows you to increase the pressure levels but not get locked down yourself, as long as you are transitioning from one bridge to another using flight.\n\nFear verses danger\n\nFear is something we create in our mind. It stems from our imagination of a future event and outcomes that may never happen. Danger can exist but we generate fear ourselves. It is important to recognise this as fear internalises our mind and when that happens we lose our freedom. You still respond to the perceived danger by acting to keep the level of freedom you are comfortable with, but you don't start focusing on 'what if' scenarios.\n\nCourage is something we generate to overcome the fear we shouldn't have in the first place. It can lead us to ego based decisions whereas freedom leads us to danger minimisation decisions.\n\nShock creates internalisation because it creates a fear response which shuts down the reasoning brain and the emotional brain is then dominant.\n\nManipulation\n\nThe purpose of manipulation is to distract and dismantle the opponents mind's focus such that you can gain an advantage over them.\n\nSome people use bullying tactics such as 'personal' attacks in order to achieve this. Yelling at a person, making claims that they are in the wrong or acting irrationally are all examples of this. The idea of this type of attack is to get the victim to internalise their thinking so that their mental resolve is weakened. This enables the adversary to gain an advantage such as an increased chance of (temporarily) winning an argument because the other person gave up due to their emotional response from the personal attack. In order to not be caught by this 'low level' manipulation you need to be aware of what they are trying to do.\n\nYou process things in either: the logical/reasoning/thinking part of your brain, the emotional part of your brain, or the primitive/survival response part of the brain.\n\nWhen you recognise a manipulative statement, you need to reject it out of hand on the surface of your logical brain, as an attempt at manipulation. You don't process it more deeply and you don't consider if it is true or not, as that leads to further processing in the emotional part of the brain.\n\nYou can only use one part of the brain at a time and this is important as they operate in a priority.\n\nThe logical part of your brain is dismantled when you come under pressure and that is why you don't process manipulative statements or actions. To win, the opponent has to dismantle your ability to fight effectively. He does this by attempting to get you bogged down in the rational part of your brain and to then switch you into the emotional part. You then lose focus and resort/degenerate to emotional responses.\n\nYou need to keep your mind's focus on freedom. Recognise any personal attacks / bullying as an attempt at manipulation in order to shut you down and reduce your effectiveness.\n\nYou reject immediately any attempts to distract, disrupt, or dismantle your mind's focus. Think of it as a game and eventually their attempts becomes humorous because they are so blatantly obvious.\n\nIn battle, you have to use acceleration to create blank moments which will minimise the use of your conscious brain. Fear needs the conscious brain as we need to imagine the possible consequence stemming from the danger, which then switches us into the emotional brain.\n\nIt's your choice\n\nFreedom is about choice – your choice. You don't have to help people get what they want; you don't have to oblige them. You don't have to play people's games. Think however about your strategies before such a possible event occurs.\n\nAvoiding the Battle\n\nThere are a whole range of tricks and tactics that enable you to stop the battle from developing. Distraction is one such tool.\n\nRunning away is just another tactic to avoid battle. People usually end up running because they were too slow to recognise the danger and react. If you see the danger early then you can usually remove yourself from the potential danger at walking pace.\n\nRemember that your martial art has to keep you safe. If you think of it in terms of defending yourself then you will tend to battle far more often than is wise.\n\nIf you cannot avoid the battle then you need to give everything you have to the battle to give yourself the best chance of staying safe.\n\nIn addition, you don't wait for your mind to be internalised. We call this a mental grab. In a defence or challenge situation, you not only break the contract (social expectation surrounding the fight), you try not to enter into it to begin with. It takes two people to make a fight. The goal is to either leave, or get the aggressor to leave, without a battle taking place. Who says you have to oblige people – it is merely a social expectation.\n\nDon't respond to people's challenges as they would expect. Be random, change the topic. Try saying 'sorry, can't help you' and walk away. You really only ever have to worry about the situation where someone is not going to take 'no' for an answer.\n\n****\n\nMultiple Attackers\n\nIf you want a more comprehensive read of how to deal with Multiple Attackers then I suggest you read my free e-book on the subject.\n\nThe basics of dealing with multiple opponents are: don't allow an opponent to measure you, and don't let people grab you from the side or from behind.\n\nWhether you can avoid the battle or are forced into it, you have to dismantle the opponent's intentions. If you face multiple attackers then you have to dismantle the group's intentions.\n\nMoving through people\n\nYou need to realise that people are not solid. A brick wall may be solid, but people are not. The problem is that if you treat people like they are a brick wall then you will create a self-fulfilling prophecy and not get past them.\n\nIn a group encounter you run at people. If you try to run around them then they will move to stop you. Run at them and they have no need to move (other than backwards to absorb you). Look at the centre of their chest and move through one side of their torso.\n\nIf your body can compress at the right time such that you can impact and drive your momentum through a person with minimal loss of energy and if you have enough acceleration to begin with, then you can essentially cut through people.\n\nYour body has to be able to compress properly if you are going to be able to move through people. If you wedge your feet then you will be trying to push your way through their resistance.\n\nIdeas to experiment with\n\nGo through people at a lower height (through their waist level if possible). Think about the lines of force being generated. A taller person will have to apply their force at an angle downwards to try and stop you. They will be losing some of their force downwards so being smaller can have an advantage that makes up for the difference in size and strength.\n\nAccelerate your system at the opponent and transmit your momentum into them and through them with minimum dissipation of that energy. We know that the triangle bridge, where you transfer energy through a contact point on you forearm just above the elbow, is a strong bridge that enables you to transfer the energy you need to affect the opponent. It also allows you to compress and do all the other things your body needs to while you are accelerating.\n\nBring your hands up at the last moment before impacting the opponent because you can accelerate faster that way. Bringing your hands up late also means they don't have time to measure your actions.\n\nThis is also why you run at their centre and only deviate through one side of their torso at the last moment. You make them set up to stop you and then you change at the last moment, not allowing them time to recover.\n\nAs you feel them breaking to one side, then the simple act of thrusting your arms forward and out will shift them off to the side faster, without slowing your momentum.\n\nIf you see them start to take a step backward to try and absorb you, then you have to get there as fast as you can.\n\nIf you see them begin to crouch in order to tackle you, then you just accelerate through in a lower position i.e. you still do essentially the same thing but your defences are built into your actions.\n\nDon't get stuck on being technical as the above are just examples of how to get the body working more efficiently. In simple terms you have to smash through the opponent using your momentum (with minimum dissipation of energy and momentum) and maintain your path to safety. You can only spend one moment on any single person in the group.\n\nHopefully when you have built up enough momentum, you start to find that people will get out of your way. If people get out of the way you can choose to still accelerate through that path to the exit.\n\nMindset for dealing with groups\n\nA group is only a functioning group while they collectively believe they are more powerful than the individual. Break this belief and the group dynamics will begin to unravel. A great group will act like a wolf pack. They will help each other to bring down the victim / individual. To break the group mindset you have to make them act as individuals again. That is how you dismantle the group. Most groups aren't great however.\n\nWhen you run through a group, you aim at the group members. Your brain is then prepared for the one second encounter with them. You give all of yourself (your accelerated mass) to them as you proceed along your path. You really don't care about them one way or another; if you did then you would be mentally grabbed. They get one second of your consideration – no more.\n\nIf you try to go through the gap between people, then as the opponent goes to cut you off they 'loom' into your vision and your brain snaps into the attack/defence mindset. You then get caught on their resistance, giving the rest of the group a better chance of taking you down.\n\nIf you start trying to pick targets such as their head then you are mentally grabbed and it will slow your progress. You are then almost certain to then become uncompressed and lose the benefit of your accelerated mass. Once that happens it all comes back to your striking ability and in a group situation that is not a good fall-back position.\n\nA universal art\n\nWhat is the real purpose of group encounters? Does it somehow make you a better fighter with skills that translate back into a single opponent battle?\n\nIf you accept the notion that you are better off having a single set of tooling, which should suffice for any self-defence situation, then group encounters must have the same tooling as a single opponent battle. People fail to recognise this universal set of tooling because they get focused on shape and technique.\n\nCompression, penetrating energy, acceleration of your mass, minimal gaps, etc. is the set of tooling, all coming under the umbrella of giving. These same qualities are just applied slightly differently depending on a single opponent or multiple opponents.\n\nRemember that it is all about 'giving'. In training you can hang around in the group and experiment and develop other skills, as long as you continue to use the right set of tooling. It relies however on coming to grips with the skill of giving, without getting caught up in the opponent's resistance.\n\n****\n\nSharpening Your Weapons\n\nYou need to sharpen your weapons, particularly the impact of the mass-driven short-arm strike. The more it affects people the better the result you will get.\n\nYou need to be able to generate sufficient energy to create a reasonable impact. It must be generated by your accelerated mass, which is why you need to be explosive. Your body is the weapon.\n\nIt is important to distinguish between training and battle. Traditionally exponents have focused on the loss of power experienced when under pressure. In battle, your strikes have approximately 50% or less of the power they have in training. Traditionally you compensate for this by training your strikes to be as powerful and effective as possible, however it is generally not enough.\n\nBattle needs are best served by the accelerated body providing the energy for any strikes on the opponent.\n\nClosed fist strikes should be used once the opponent is displaying overt signs of being overwhelmed e.g. turning away from you. These strikes then need to be able to do enough damage to convince the opponent not to return on you, so train at least one strike so that it works when you are under the pressure of battle conditions.\n\nOpen hands verses closed hands\n\nThe open hand helps to accelerate the compression of the body.\n\nA closed fist prevents your torso and core compressing properly. Closing the hand and making a fist either slows the compression of the body or it offers no assistance. Closing your fist also locks your arm which can separate it from your system. This is why you use closed fist after you have created enough effect on the opponent.\n\nElimination Strategies\n\nCould a good Judo or Jiu Jitsu exponent take out any modern Kung Fu or Karate exponent? If they were willingly to close the distance, grapple and take the person to ground then the answer is probably yes.\n\nThe answer that some Kung Fu exponents have for the above scenario is the power of their strikes, attacking a vulnerable point such as the neck, knee or groin, or some sort of elimination strategy such as a finger in the opponent's eye or striking a nerve point, etc. If you think you can rely on this sort of stuff in battle then disappointment is likely to be the least of your problems.\n\nElimination strategies have been around for a long time and their proponents don't do Kung Fu any favours in terms of brand. Where this stuff is concerned, movies and reality seem to get mixed up badly for more than a few exponents of Kung Fu.\n\nDoing the job\n\nWho hasn't had an instructor tell them that you have to 'get the job done', but what does that even mean? In some ways it is a statement that sends people off on the wrong track. The obvious interpretation is that you have to take your opponent/s out. However this sort of thinking takes away your mental freedom as you will approach the battle with this intention.\n\nWhat you need to determine is: what does getting the job done really mean in the context of giving and freedom?\n\nGetting the job done will mean different things to different people but it implies a seriousness to what you are doing. It implies a level of sharpness, of violence that might be needed in dangerous environments. Do you have to take the opponent/s out (which is wishful thinking anyway for most people). The answer is no! Not if you want to maintain the strategy of giving and freedom.\n\nWhen you are not fighting, then you are really not fighting i.e. you aren't doing anything to bring the battle on. In fact you are implementing strategies to ensure it doesn't happen or happens as a last resort i.e. no choice. When that point is reached, and it is different for everyone and even for different encounters, then your approach to battle is as serious as your approach was to not getting into the battle i.e. no half-hearted attempt. \"Do or do not\" might make more sense to you in this context.\n\nYou actually don't aim to hurt the opponent but you need the level of violence to create the effect on them or it is just technical tiddlywinks. Think about a large training partner that you know – what level of violence would they need to experience from you in order to affect them? You might think you are not capable of it but it is possible.\n\nYou have to give everything you have got, but it is not about trying to strike the opponent into the ground.\n\nIn a survival situation you might fight for your life with everything you have, but you are not aiming in that moment to kill or destroy the thing attacking you. You are just trying to survive. The violence you are outputting however is considerable. In a way you have to tap into this.\n\n*****\n\nEnergy\n\nOne of the reputational problems that Martial Arts has is that there is a gulf between what exponents can produce in a static situation as opposed to what they can do in battle.\n\nInstructors can demonstrate a technique that looks good in the air, or when hitting a pad, or when they demonstrate on an unresisting student. When the opponent is resisting and moving and trying to strike them in return, then the techniques fall apart. Look at video of martial artists in battle, including some masters of particular styles, and you cannot help thinking that it is somewhat embarrassing. They can barely affect their opponents in battle.\n\nHow do you make your martial arts more effective in battle? The first step is to affect your opponent by delivering lots of energy for your opponent to deal with. To achieve this you have to generate enough energy for the whole of the battle.\n\nWhy do exponents rarely generate sufficient energy? The main reason for the lack is because they are always splitting their energy, always fracturing it. Exponents will split their energy just about every time they attempt to use a technique in the manner it was traditionally taught.\n\nAvoiding resistance\n\nIn order to maintain the maximum energy possible of your system, you need to keep an accelerated state. This means you cannot get caught up fighting your opponent's resistance. You cannot grapple with your opponent or otherwise slow your accelerated system. If you do that then you cause a break in the series of accelerations and the chain of energy is lost.\n\nYou have to impart the energy of your accelerated system onto the opponent without locking onto their resistance. This means you can never grab your opponent or allow yourself to be grabbed by them – physical or mental.\n\nYou cannot get involved in their resistance at any level. It's why you cannot get stuck on the opponent.\n\nGiving and energy\n\nGiving is the key to vitality where you feel fully energised. This is because the physical body usually gets locked by the mind and the attachment to the opponent's resistance. Free your mind and the rest will follow.\n\nGiving also gives you better access to heavy energy for your whole body rather than say an arm that you are striking with. In battle, people can rarely use heavy energy in their strikes because there is too much pressure from the battle and they cannot relax their system enough.\n\nYour accelerated mass can make use of three energies i.e. torque combined with flight, linear / accelerated energy of your mass, and gravity.\n\n****\n\nDefences are built into what you are doing\n\nYou have to give your accelerated mass in a way that can account for anything the opponent might do. Look at the opponent's body and determine where you need to be in order to be safe for a moment.\n\nTheir hands and elbows can strike best when your head is at a certain height and distance so obviously you will try to avoid putting your head in that space. Their knees and kicks need to extend to a certain distance in order to be effective.\n\nThe rule is – you are either outside the range of their weapons or you are continually accelerating your whole system when you are up close and inside the range of their weapons.\n\nYou have to get in safely to the danger zone (where you are in range of their strikes) and be able to transition. Long arm footwork (described in a later chapter) has much to teach you about doing this effectively.\n\nTip: by going low to their waist for entry into to battle, you force their vision down and their hands will follow their head. You have to be able to move fast however.\n\nYou want their back! Defence is built into this concept i.e. as a product of this strategy your head is kept out of the way of the striking ability of the opponent. The impact power of your strikes will come in time, so focus on making the body the weapon.\n\nThe ground is not your friend\n\nYou cannot ever go to the ground. Even people with little skill are copying the 'ground and pound' strategy from MMA. Those with any sort of decent ground game e.g. wrestling, BJJ, etc. will likely submit you quickly. This means you cannot give them your legs, and you cannot grapple with them or allow yourself to be grabbed, and you cannot give them time. Your strategy has to account for everything and this includes multiple attackers.\n\nIn a way you have three options. You can keep to your art and pretend the problem doesn't exist, or you can join MMA and learn ground fighting skills, or you can learn to give them nothing and affect them at the same time.\n\n****\n\nIntent\n\nFocus your training on achieving the outcomes you need to make your martial art work. 'Do or do not'. There is no prize for getting halfway to an outcome. You either achieve it or you end up either trading blows with the opponent or grappling.\n\nThe opponent's intention is to do you some physical harm and you need to dismantle this intention. Ultimately you don't want to be physically damaged. The old saying \"treat your body like bean curd and the opponent like a superman\", was trying to tell you something about the outcome you needed and the time you had to achieve it.\n\nTwo students can get the same information but one person will make it work and give them skills that others won't get. For instance, one person will learn how to get there to the opponent before they can react. Others will travel too slowly and be measured. One student trained with the intent to get the outcome they needed and they ended up with a flat, fast, low trajectory that got them into the battle safely.\n\nYou have to train with the right intent in order to develop the skills that need to be developed. It is not about harder, faster. It is about achieving the outcome that needs to be achieved by that particular concept, footwork, etc. The 'hobby martial arts exponents' never get the skill set they need even though they get given the same information.\n\nSometimes we take the impressions we are told by our teachers and we try to adjust the shape of our actions to incorporate this. This impression however was just that, a memory of a snapshot in battle. These impressions can be gold but the information needs to be applied with the intent to get to our outcome.\n\nWhere we tend to go wrong is we formularise things and then apply intent. That is same as learning a shape and then going harder, faster.\n\nThe system described in this book was essentially created because it was driven by three intents i.e. you have to get there, you have to give the opponent everything and not let them recover, and you have to do the job.\n\nIntent shaped the creation of this martial art, rather than technique. There was no shape to teach, intent gave rise to a shape of sorts. There was an outcome and impact to achieve and shape was a by-product of that, and everything that was trained was done with the intent needed to make it work.\n\nLong-arm footwork (described in a later chapter) is a good example of this. When you train it with the right intent i.e. you have to get there before the opponent can measure you, then it begins to function very differently. Getting in you have to beat their timing. You cannot be slow and travel in an arc like everyone else does. You need a flat trajectory and for that you have to start in a lower position so your legs have spring energy. You then land in a lowered position creating a 'small target' which further affects their measurement of your actions.\n\nLongarm can be made to function as your best defence when you come in on someone. It can be trained to the degree where it will take care of their strikes, kicks, running into their knees, the person being able to back off, etc. It is your backup when you cannot use trickery to get in close.\n\nHaving a reason to do the art and make the system work, helps maintain the right level of intent. Without that environment you will probably just be a dabbler in the arts. That is the also the problem we face in trying to get people to duplicate the system. People can train hard but without that intent, they will still be a dabbler – just a much fitter one.\n\nThe traditional way\n\nThe traditional way of teaching martial arts is to teach a shape e.g. a technique, and then tell the student to apply it to battle with lots of intent. The equation is:\n\nShape + Intent = Result\n\nWe all have a tendency in everyday life to formularise things and then apply intent. That is same as learning a shape and then going harder, faster.\n\nWhat if this traditional approach is wrong and at odds with the old sayings? Students in the traditional martial arts have been making the serious error of focusing on the structure put before them and ignoring the sayings that are the actual guideposts that should be shaping your martial arts journey.\n\nWhat if shape is a by-product of your intent combined with guiding concepts i.e. shape is an outcome of the system you build and the equation is:\n\nIntent + system of concepts = result (with associated shape seen in the battle)\n\nHow intent is defined is important. Your intent is about doing whatever it takes to get the outcome you want to achieve. Everything you train has to be done with the intent needed to make it work. This is however about the bigger goals. It is not about a particular strike or technique as those are shapes.\n\nThe following, for example, are statements of intent:\n\n  * You have to get to the opponent before they can measure you\n\n  * You have to make the opponent's mind go internal and not let them recover\n\nIt helps you maintain the right level of intent in your training if you have a reason to do the art and make the system work. You have to train with the right intent in order to develop the skills that need to be developed. It is not about harder, faster. It is about achieving the outcome that needs to be achieved.\n\nTake the example where the opponent measures you on entry and hits you with a strike. Your instructor tells you how to avoid that particular strike, but this leaves you vulnerable to something else. You will not solve the multiple problems that arise through this approach. The real problem is that you are being measured. You have to get in and affect the opponent so they cannot measure you properly or set themselves up in time for a strike. To do this you need to train with the right intent to get the outcome you need to achieve.\n\nWhen you are teaching, you have no intent, so your mind is in a very different space. This is where instructors make the mistake of creating what they think the shape is, because they have to give the student something. The student expects the instructor to have the answers and the instructor feels obliged to provide them with something. What is created here usually fails in battle.\n\nYou are your own Teacher\n\nIf you make everything work to your purpose e.g. keep yourself safe by not getting hit or grabbed then if you get given something like Longarm footwork you will turn it into something other than a kick defence. If you coach someone and think you can give it to them, you actually hinder their progress because they are no longer self-driven. You do the arts for yourself. You are your own teacher. You need to be driven with single minded purpose to develop the system so that it does the job no matter what.\n\nInstruction is ultimately a trap as people don't take responsibility for their art.\n\nYou have to experiment using the framework of concepts and teach your body how to act as one unit. You are the only one who can reprogram your coordination.\n\nDon't get caught in the trap of being a follower; you are your own teacher. Ultimately, your art has to be your own.\n\nYou have to balance respect for an instructor against blind acceptance of everything they tell you, as a percentage of what they say won't be accurate.\n\nYou have to take responsibility for developing your art and this means analysing everything against your framework. If it doesn't fit then put it to one side and you may come back to it later on and modify it as you develop your framework.\n\nIf an instructor tries to be too prescriptive with the answers, then the student will end up copying the shape instead of trying to work out what their body is doing and the effect they should be having.\n\nWhen you are teaching someone, you never have a 'live' body, so odds are you will be making stuff up that doesn't represent reality. Students have to discover more and copy less.\n\n****\n\nDesign, Build, and Test your Art\n\nThe martial arts world is focused on the single opponent battle, and MMA is at the forefront of this focus. The focus on the single opponent takes every martial art on a similar path, some just do it better. Various martial arts talk about multiple attackers but when you look at what they propose, it's obvious that any half decent group will take them down.\n\nMMA exponents are, in their own way, following a time honoured approach that has been used to improve just about anything your care to name. You design a system, build it, and then test it to see if it works. You then keep repeating the process to improve the outcome. If you don't test the system, then you never really know how it works under different conditions.\n\nStudents in some of the traditional martial arts are trapped; instead of design/build it has become copy. The testing phase is non-existent. The system has already been designed and built by the style or school, and the student simply has to copy. The stories of past conquests and a strong loyalty culture work to ensure the student believes in the capability of the art.\n\nThe hardest part for the students of the traditional martial arts is that you need to be responsible for your own design / build / test process. When you merely copy something, you don't take responsibility for the design and build elements. Ultimately you need to reach the stage in the journey where 'you are your own teacher and create your own art'.\n\nThe Hidden Path\n\nYou can think of the martial arts as having two paths in the arts. One is a technical path where you focus on perfecting the movements and shapes of your art.\n\nThe other is a hidden path where you every piece of information is developed and tested for the purpose of achieving the outcome of keeping yourself safe.\n\nThe same information is received by the students in the training hall, regardless of the path they are following. The difference is in what they do with that information.\n\nThe mistake most students make in their approach to the arts is that they think they can get to the answer by copying what they see. When they do this, they arrive at the same answer as everyone else. Exponents sometimes struggle with techniques and technical answers for decades and in reality get no closer to making their art practical for battle. You can be hypnotised in the technical path; you are primed for believing just about anything you are told by your instructor.\n\nThe arts were meant to be discovered by the student. Nowadays the arts are scripted for students, right up into their higher grades, with yet another technique or another drill. If you want to create a universal system and discover how to deal effectively with either single or multiple opponents then you will need to take responsibility for that journey yourself.\n\nIn pursuing the hidden path you are driven by outcomes and you take a holistic view of how to keep yourself safe. Design, build and test will develop systems unique to the individual. One of the key factors in developing a useful system will be the intent with which you approach the task.\n\nTesting - why practical work is important\n\nIn order to forge a sword, the steel has to go into the fire. You also don't want any weaknesses in the metal, which is why we train the whole body to act as one unit.\n\nIn reality you are operating in the dark when you are not testing your assumptions. It is a weakness in any system if you are not occasionally jumping into the fire to see what effect you can actually have on an opponent. You could be training at a level that is not actually progressing your art. This has become a major weakness in traditional systems.\n\nPractical experience will show you where your weaknesses are. It will highlight if you are too slow on entry and are getting punched or kicked etc. It will show you if you are going internal, or if you are leaving yourself open to a particular type of attack or defence. When you work out that you have a weakness then you adapt your training program to fix it.\n\nPractical work will also help you to start putting the pieces together or it will show up any delusions you have. You are your own teacher and your failures can teach you a lot if you approach it right. Your successes can also teach you how to put the pieces together better so that you can again adapt and improve your training program.\n\nThere is a feedback loop required to develop any martial art, and practical work is an important part of that feedback loop.\n\nDon't have the attitude of \"I need to train first until I am good enough to succeed\". You are on a journey and you need the practical experience to test that you are on the right path. You have to put it together from all of the pieces. The insights when pieces click together during practical work can be invaluable.\n\nYou need practical experience in order to properly join the mind to the body. This makes a lot of sense. Your mind is under a lot of stress when in battle. Just as you want resilience with your body so that it remains solid, together and doesn't break under pressure, the same applies to your mind. People talk about 'spirit' but in reality it is just a facet of the mind.\n\nYou need a range of training partners from those having weaker mental resilience to those with strong mental resilience. You essentially work your way up through the 'food chain' from weakest to strongest, trying to create a sufficient mental effect on each as your skill level improves.\n\nYou can test yourself in battle but you cannot gain technical skills in that environment. Technical skills are developed in your training (design / build parts) and without the right intent you will not develop the right skills. The 'test' part of the design / build / test model is designed to help you judge the effect you can have on various opponents and gives you an indication of whether your intent is sufficient. You also get impressions of what may have happened when you have a success.\n\nWe get it wrong when we take the impressions we are told by the instructor and we then try to adjust the shape to incorporate this. Impressions are things that an exponent felt they did in battle. They are likely distorted due to real time effects on the mind. Think of them more as signposts that you are likely to be on the right path if you are also experiencing them.\n\nMental resilience\n\nDesign, build, test is about being your own teacher and working towards developing the pillars as an integrated and cohesive system. Trying to define the movements and then teaching them to students will take people down a path that leads nowhere. The movements of this system and their shape will be a product of giving, transitioning, energisation, etc.\n\nA shape will be a product of this. If you try to describe a shape then the student will spend their time trying to work that shape out. This is what stymies students for years in their development. The goal should be to get a desired effect consistently. You should be looking to produce the right outcome, which is to affect the opponent mentally. Outputs like a technique will rarely create an effect. The effect you create is a product of giving your fully energised system.\n\nThe Dojo Trap\n\nIf you see the Buddha on the road, kill him. This means that if you have an idealised vision of what the battle should be, then it is a false image that you need to 'kill'. You then need to move on and keep training and working on the solutions. Everyone however wants solutions that are all nicely presented and most instructors are happy to oblige as they are also caught in the trap. Hence the plethora of technical answers, which by the way will ultimately not work.\n\nStudents are easily hypnotised because they really want to believe in the art they are doing and will ignore any evidence that doesn't comply with their image of the art and themselves. They are open to suggestion and being mesmerised. It is a trap that you need to avoid.\n\nThe more you try to define something the greater the dojo risk. Theory of battle is not immune to this.\n\nDon't try to turn things into a technique!\n\nA technique requires a perfect sequence of events to occur i.e. a perfect timeline where every action of the opponent fits in with the right distance, timing and measurement of your action / technique. If they don't follow the script then the technique will fail. That is why the student dummy is so necessary in the training hall.\n\nGiving on the other hand doesn't care about changes to the script as you weren't working to one in the first place. You are just giving them a problem to deal with i.e. your accelerated mass and robbing them of time at every transition.\n\nIt is so easy to turn a concept into a technique and lose the essence of what was being conveyed. To avoid this, you should try to always think about whether you are achieving the following in your actions:\n\n  * your accelerated mass being projected at the opponent and the different ways this can occur.\n\n  * transferring energy into the target through a small surface area.\n\n  * minimising the loss or dissipation of energy\n\n  * minimising the gap in time as you transition\n\n  * always creating an effect on the opponent (physically and mentally)\n\nBreathing\n\nBreathing is another thing that is usually made technical but in battle it is whatever occurs – don't force it. Under pressure it will be natural anyway. Forcing it will likely interfere with the transitioning of your accelerated mass.\n\n****\n\nTraining the Body\n\nYou need to train and connect three key areas of the body i.e. the legs, the core, and the major muscle groups in the torso. They all need to work together.\n\nAll your training should be focused on joining and incorporating these three areas. Each exercise will not train all areas equally; however, the focus should be on incorporating the three areas as best as possible.\n\nA live body is always able to transition quickly and effectively i.e. it cannot get locked down such as when you over-balance forward. You only want minimal gaps in your energy (and no splitting or dissipating of energy).\n\nThe body is a weapon and you have to pressure the opponent. However, until you have a live body you will not be able to attempt to develop tools for battle that meet these requirements. You won't understand what they really are until you can maintain a live body when you encounter resistance.\n\nLegs\n\nFor most exponents, their legwork is not really part of their battle. The result is that their body mass is not effectively utilised in the battle. Most people have no idea of what they are potentially missing out on. Their vision of the arts is centred on their strikes, kicks, grappling, and this dominates their thinking.\n\nYour legwork can potentially give you a large advantage. When you and your opponent would typically be neutralising each other at the beginning of the battle, an effective legwork can mean that you can keep the pressure high. This will help you neutralise the opponent and then use your body as a weapon to dismantle their intentions.\n\nIn order to use your whole body, you have to reprogram your system so that your legwork works in unison with your core, and torso, to drive your actions.\n\nMost people interpret this concept of legwork driving their actions incorrectly; they think in terms that are too static, such as 'I move my feet towards the target and this generates the power for the strike', hence the focus on techniques.\n\nThere are two main types of footwork to focus on. These relate to the distance from the opponent. When you are outside striking range then you need a footwork that enables you to pressure the opponent, to round them up, and also deny them the ability to easily measure and therefore predict your actions, especially your entry. The other footwork relates to how you can continually accelerate your system at the opponent when you are in close.\n\nCore and Torso\n\nIn order for the body work as a solid single unit you have to train compression of your core. A working core is the compression of the whole core (think of it as a band running around your mid-section).\n\nWhile your legwork dominates and drives your actions, your core provides the link between your legwork and the major muscle groups in your torso. You need this link to be solid to ensure the lower half and top half of the body can keep working effectively together when you encounter an opponent's resistance.\n\nIf you are going to be able to focus the energy generated by your legwork, then you have to be able to keep the body together and acting as one unit. When you are in contact with an opponent you cannot split your energy, which typically occurs when you attempt to fight their resistance.\n\nWe need to make the body 'solid' by ensuring the large muscles groups i.e. the back, the lats and the pectorals, work in conjunction with the core and the legs. That solidness means that energy doesn't disperse and split when it meets the opposing forces from an opponent.\n\nIt's simple; the ability to use your whole body in battle will give you a better outcome. The problem is that people don't have the tools to make the tools they need for battle, i.e. their body cannot operate as it needs to in order to create strategies for using their whole body in battle.\n\nYou can see this in the first part of every battle where two people come together and effectively neutralise due to the pressure created. It is typically only when they break apart again that their strikes become useful. If you watch their footwork at this point of coming together, you will notice that it almost always contributes very little to their battle. You see a lot of shuffling and wedging.\n\nThe result is that people are using probably less than fifty per cent of their total capability because their feet are not really part of their battle. They are however locked into that loss of capability by their strategy for battle.\n\nThe problem to be overcome is the natural reaction to meeting resistance forces from an opponent. The typical reaction is to meet resistance with resistance, to fight an opposing resistance. Typically when the battle is serious, people end up grappling and going to ground or they blindly strike out at each other.\n\nThe ability to use your whole body should enable you to dismantle your opponent's intentions at the crucial period in the beginning of the battle and a minimal gaps strategy of transitions and pressure will drastically reduce their chance to recover.\n\nBridging Exercises\n\nThe contact between two opponents is the point of transfer of forces from one person to the next, which is a bridge between your feet and the opponent's feet. This creates a human energy bridge referred to as a _bridge force_ where energy travels from one person through to another utilizing the ground. Even the slightest touch creates resistance and the sense of a _bridge force_.\n\nTraining bridging forces is a significant part of some traditional systems and heavily intertwined with a lot of techniques and drills.\n\nKeep in mind however that these static exercises never translate directly to battle, so do not be trapped by them. It is useful training if you focus on building the coordination in your body to keep it acting as a whole and functioning automatically as needed when your whole system is under acceleration and meeting resistance.\n\n****\n\nLongarm Footwork\n\nOne of the reasons longarm footwork is so important is that it teaches you about the effective delivery of your mass. If you are too slow then you are an easy target on entry into the zone where the opponent's strikes are most effective.\n\nAs an exercise, this footwork is designed to keep you outside of your opponent's striking range until you decide to get to the centre of their torso, which is the slowest moving part of their body and is therefore the easiest for you to track.\n\nThe lowered position of this footwork allows you to scan the opponent's weapons in one visual field, covering both legs and hands at the same time. This means you don't have to split your attention to cover both the upper and lower body of the opponent. If you split your attention then you split your energy.\n\nLongarm has to be able to do three things. These are:\n\n  1. Disrupt the opponents measuring ability so you have moments where you are being measured poorly by the opponent. You create moments where their measurement and balance is disrupted.\n\n  2. Split the opponent's vision between your head and your worrying arm\n\n  3. Make them worried that you can come in at any time e.g. if they lift their foot (and you have to be able to do just that).\n\nThere is an angular form of this footwork and also a linear form and you have to be able to constantly switch between the two. This footwork enables you to 'work' the opponent, to round them up, which acts as an attack on their mind.\n\nThe back leg acts like a tail that throws your mass around quickly. It acts like a counter balance that can be thrown around to gain distance and speed. The back leg can also swing forward quickly and cover a lot of ground to reach your opponent in a blink of an eye using flight.\n\nThe back leg can act as a whip to propel you quickly forwards or whip you around to the side. It is another reason to always be balanced properly on that front leg and not be overbalanced forward. When you are overbalanced forward you are looking at their feet and the part of your core at the back of the mid region is now stretched. When that happens, you lose compression. If you were to rush a person, then you have to decelerate as you get to them. Flight solves that problem\n\nLongarm and Intent\n\nThe tooling / skills, that have to be properly developed through the right intent, are used for both single and multiple opponents e.g. non grab, busy mind, acceleration, flight, compression, etc. The tooling is just applied differently for a group.\n\nLongarm develops the tooling in a particular way when you train it with the correct intent and the right focus on outcomes e.g. to get to the opponent before they can measure you. Treat it like a technical answer to handle kicks and you don't get the tooling advantage.\n\nThe person training Longarm with the right intent will learn how to get to the opponent before they can be properly measured and cut short the opponent's reaction. When you go in, you have to beat the opponent's timing. The person with the right intent will get the outcome they needed and almost certainly they will use a flat, fast, low trajectory. For a flat trajectory you have to start in a lower position so that your legs have spring energy. You then are likely to land in a lowered position creating a 'small target' which further affects the opponent's measurement of your actions. Your shape has been created by the intent you gave to your training.\n\nWith the right intent you can make longarm function as your defence when you come in on an opponent. You train it to the degree where it inherently takes care of the risks from opponent's strikes, kicks, the person being able to back off, etc.\n\nThe student who treats Longarm as a technique and dabbles with the shape, will come in too slowly and be measured by the opponent. They will travel in a nice easily measured arc. They will then go to their instructor with the problem and the instructor will make the classic mistake of trying to fix the shape rather than the intent.\n\nThings to experiment with\n\nLike everything in this system, you cannot copy the shape and get a result. There is no technical answer that you can copy, which is why people fail to realise the benefits of this footwork. You need to discover how to transition direction and momentum smoothly and rapidly.\n\nYou need to put a lot of time and effort into training this footwork in order to see the benefits and they are substantial. We thought we should include some helpful hints for you to experiment with. A description of how to do something is always technical and prone to error, so don't expect the following to be exact. You have to build and test everything yourself.\n\nThe rest of this section describes elements for you to experiment with. None of it is a technical description that can be relied upon. You have to try it, modify it and make it your own, such that it works.\n\nIn order to come forward effectively you have to transform your backwards momentum. You can do this by sinking into a lowered position, which spring loads your energy as you load the back leg. If your back foot is perpendicular to front foot once you sink, then you can push forward more effectively. Your weight at the transition point is more on back leg. The positioning of your arms e.g. elbows inside the knees, or perhaps having your elbow resting on front knee when you are lowered ready to transition, can assist with loading and keeping the body together.\n\nThe Tai Chi 'heel to toe' footwork position should be taken note of as it aligns the body like an arrow to come in. If your feet are spread apart then you lose the loading that can otherwise be achieved and you will be slower to get in. It is not unlike fencing but they do not go low enough on transition and they also over-stretch when they go forward as they are trying to extend the weapon to its maximum reach.\n\nSinking in order to transition gets the person's vision to bend down to you. With this footwork you are not maintaining a really low position all the time, and you get the added benefit of the looming effect when you come in with an upward trajectory (like a plane taking off).\n\nTry having your palms facing up to help keep your elbows in, which helps keep you compact as you come in. This provides extra protection against front kicks.\n\nYou have to get in quickly in order to beat the kicks and punches i.e. shut them down before they get going. That's why you have to get to the person with your body. You don't have to run the person over when you come in; you can stop once you get to them and start accelerating at them using a switching footwork.\n\nHaving your hands in front of your face as you land (when you go in) allows you to be balanced while you are lower. Your structure will be more compressed and loaded on landing and you will also be better protected as your head will not be straight up the centre of their body. You will be lower, and your forearm and hand will be providing more protection from their strikes. Experiment with landing in a squat position to avoid the front foot being locked down by the resistance of the opponent.\n\nThe angular form of longarm footwork helps you to avoid getting trapped in corners. You go low when a strike e.g. a kick is coming into range so that you bend their vision and mess up their targeting, and then you keep going around and past the opponent.\n\nYou don't worry about getting cornered or rounded up as there is always a gap (people are the gap). If you get cornered you just go in and past them if you want – you don't have to engage them.\n\nThis means you need to focus on being able to move anywhere at any time. You need to be smoother, faster, and more seamless with your changes of direction. Going lower helps you to change direction, as does using half steps to change the direction of your momentum. Use the balls of the feet, and work out how to whip the back leg around (dragon tail). Bring the front foot to the back foot so that it can drive the tail.\n\nGoing in becomes easier as your footwork improves. A gap is created every time their measuring has to catch up and you can go in on that moment. Eventually your mind will know the gaps before you can consciously recognise them e.g. if the person lifts their foot to step, there will be a gap that enables you to safely go in (at high speed).\n\nThe mindset will be important. You have to think of putting the pressure on them and affecting them rather than the other way around. You round them up and put their brain into the attack / defence mindset as you know that when you come in they will have a moment of shock that gives you a gap.\n\nTo wreck their measuring ability, you have to create an effect on them and this is always about messing with their mind. This whole art is about how to mess with their mind like nothing they have experienced before.\n\nIf you create a technical approach to getting in or past an opponent then it will fail under battle conditions when the opponent does something random to thwart it. You will then be left with a gap as you try to recover.\n\nWorry the opponent\n\nWhen a boxer is dancing around, ready for you and waiting to use their jab or their big punch, they are constantly measuring you. It allows them to create an effect on you and it is perhaps part of the reason why people from other styles imitate boxers when they come up against them.\n\nYou can still \"give yourself\" and get in to the danger zone where their weapons are most dangerous regardless of being measured if you can change the height and move fast enough. You can however add an extra element of safety by wrecking their measurement of you before you go in, and longarm (dragontail) footwork is a great tool for doing this.\n\nThe arm is a balancing arm out in front. It is the worrying arm as it is measuring distance from the opponent but it is also distracting them. It is a live hand that somehow communicates intent to the opponent. They have to keep switching their vision down to your lowered arm and back to your face and this in itself starts to wreck their measuring ability.\n\nYour body moving from side to side with the angular footwork and the sweeping tail of the back leg, along with the sinking and rising of the body and the in and out as you move closer to them and back out again as you sweep around, all affects their ability to measure you. It starts creating moments where they haven't got you measured and this starts the worrying of their brain.\n\nThe arm is lowered because that is how you can best balance yourself and move around the floor more quickly. It also means that you can keep your body compressed, which allows you to go forward faster as you have expansion as well as forward acceleration, almost like a spring. It also means they have to keep switching their vision back and forth from your lowered arm to you face.\n\nYou have to worry the person and to practice this footwork you need to start to get a feel of the gaps in their ability to respond to when you go in. There is a gap every other moment, e.g. if they lift a foot even a tiny amount off the ground. If you miss one gap then don't worry as in another moment there will be another one.\n\nIf you get good at the footwork then the opponent's measurement focus has to chase your movement and there is a gap every time it has to catch up to you i.e. you are putting their measurement of you behind the timing of your actions. The better you can move, the bigger and better the gaps to go in on.\n\nThe more rapidly and more fluidly that you can move, the more you increase the gap in time from where they have you currently measured at, and where you actually are. You rob them of time in a sense. The faster you move, the more they have to predict where you are going to be. If you can change direction and come in rapidly then their prediction will be totally wrong and their measurement of you completely disrupted for a moment. This creates a significant effect on their mind and gives you a moment of advantage.\n\nYou need to get used to moving quickly around the floor, and working on the opponent, rounding them up, messing with their brain. You look at the person to see the effect you are creating so you can learn what strategies are working and this gives you the information you need to train those elements and make the effect larger. Don't go technical as you will miss the whole point i.e. it is the worrying footwork and you have to work out how best to worry them. Once you can do that then you cut down heavily on the danger as you go in.\n\nIt is the intent that makes Longarm meaningful. Without it you are just dancing around, copying the shape of the footwork. Once you have intent the hand becomes live and that is what disrupts their measuring of you, because they start to split their focus between your face and the worrying hand. If you close your fist then you cannot have a live hand.\n\nDisrupting the opponents measurement however also relies on the sweeping movement of longarm from side to side and the up down and the transition between the angular and the linear footwork. You have to round the person up in order to affect them. If you just move backwards with little sideways movement then it is easier for the opponent to pressure you instead.\n\nYou need to train this with a person in order to get the feedback loop needed to develop the lure and to practice projecting intent and to start seeing the gaps. By yourself you can only really train the muscle memory of the footwork and also start to think about how you might be able to more easily go in i.e. look for moments where you have the ability to give.\n\nMost important of all, you are still using the same theory i.e. how to affect their measurement and create a moment of advantage that you can use to your benefit.\n\nYou don't want to ever feel that you are being rounded up by the opponent as you are then mentally grabbed.\n\nIt's not about defending the kick\n\nLongarm is not a kick reduction footwork but that is an outcome of learning it. If you train it as a kick defence strategy then you are training a very bad habit i.e. to split your attention between your opponent's face and dealing with their kick. You are training yourself to focus on their weapons, which keep your thinking mind working. We want to shut the thinking mind down, not keep it going.\n\nYou need to get rid of doubt because it leads to hesitation. Getting rid of doubt is about shutting the thinking brain down. Giving helps you do this because you are not forming plans and intentions towards the opponent e.g. not planning on how to strike them. 'I see their weapons but I don't care'.\n\nLongarm helps to get rid of doubt if you approach it with the right mind set.\n\nYour mind set can either be tuned to giving or to receiving. If you are not giving then you are receiving. The brain being split between attack and defence happens when the mind is tuned to receiving. Your intent in Longarm is outward focused rather than inward focused as for kick defence.\n\nHow does Longarm help to shut the thinking mind down? In a way it acts as a 'busy mind' strategy. As you are moving around efficiently you will eventually notice a gap that you could potentially take advantage of in just about every moment. This recognition of gaps can only occur if you are projecting your mind outward along with your intent that at any point you will initiate giving. It is the recognition of these gaps that occupies your thinking mind and acts as a busy mind strategy.\n\nYou cannot think about the gap and then act on it as you will be too slow. Through training you need to be able to switch and go without thinking i.e. recognise the gap is coming, anticipate it, and go. There is probably a subconscious element to this where you lure people into following you and can anticipate their reaction and act in future time to take advantage of it. Certainly it is not a thinking process at the time of the event as you would be too slow. The skill takes a lot of practice and experience to develop it properly.\n\nThe intent associated with Longarm is not to hit the opponent. The intent is to worry them, to make them believe that you can get in past their defences at any point and they cannot stop you. You need to put them under mental pressure so that gaps are created and recognised and giving can begin.\n\nWhy is Longarm generally a lower footwork? There are several reasons. Being lower helps to affect their measurement and it gives you a particular balance that enables you to come in faster. It lets you move around the floor more rapidly i.e. the dragon tail can sweep faster and further in a lowered position. The worrying hand only really worries them when it is part of a rapid sweeping footwork. How else do you expect you will disrupt their measurement?\n\n****\n\nSingle opponent verses group battle\n\n****\n\nLearning / Training model\n\n", "meta": {"pile_set_name": "BookCorpus2"}}
{"text": " \n### THE WAR OF CIVLAR\n\nBy Isuru Abeysinghe\n\nSmashwords Edition\n\nCopyright 2009 Isuru Abeysinghe\n\nThis free ebook may be copied, distributed, reposted, reprinted and shared, provided it appears in its entirety without alteration, and the reader is not charged to access it.\n\nISBN: 9781476262529 REV: 2\n\n*****\nINTRODUCTION\n\nThe year is 2250.\n\nPost holocaust.\n\nHumanity's once expansive civilizations have been laid to waste, a victim of their own innovations, desires and foolhardy concepts of progress. The first cataclysm was an ideological war between factions that, although adhered to largely the same principals and structure, were separated by a rift in mythology and scripture. This was syntax, not semantics. However, those at the top knew that this rift was simply a front, since the real situation concerning mankind then was that of overpopulation and the dwindling of resources. As it was and ever will be politically incorrect to fight wars based on the simple principal of supply and demand, increasing extremism on both sides and the polarizations of the so-called ideologies were pumped to the masses as the sole reason for their respective struggles.\n\nDespite this lack, technology continued to advance on both sides, spurred on by the real and present danger of being subjugated and persecuted should the other side win. Atrocities piled on top of atrocities and a complete ban on communication meant that the separate civilizations eventually no longer considered the other side as human.\n\nHowever, as to the subject of downfall, the war was not the cause.\n\nTo sustain an ever increasing need for resources, scientists had pulled out the safeguards and checkpoints that regulated the progress of technology. Thus, a combination of genetic mutations, caused by medical advances that cured diseases through altering DNA coupled with rouge nano-machines that had also evolved, mechanically as opposed to biologically, wreaked havoc on the balance of nature and toppled human beings from the top of the predatory pyramid on Earth.\n\nToday, the expanses of the globe have been rendered largely uninhabitable. To venture outside of a protected zone, sealed off by the massive infrastructure projects that isolated humans with their own air, food and water (known as the 'Domes') would mean certain death.\n\nBut there is still war.\nCHAPTER 1: THE INTERROGATION\n\nEva sat in her prison cell contemplating her outcome. Dressed in plain white overalls, imbued with the latest Civlarian advances in self-cleaning clothes, she had prepared herself for a belligerent onslaught from her captors. To her surprise, her hair had not been cut, nor her personal possessions removed. To this point she felt a glimmer of hope that she would be processed in some fashion akin to humanity – but she didn't really know anything about this place and the people.\n\nLooking around her she noticed her small room was fitted with a television, food dispensers and other facilities. None of that seemed strange, apart from the television. She hadn't turned it on since the time she had been in the room, largely due to a concern against the most powerful tactic that her enemy would now use against her – persuasion. The priests had warned her about the corrupting influences of Civlar, the bribery of human morals, and their eventual implications.\n\nThe door opens and a middle aged man appears. Like the guards at the prison itself, he is dressed in outlandish and extravagant attire. At first she thought this would be just another guard but she knew full well that there is no discernible way of determining the rank of Civlarian officials. With a green Mohawk and a leather jacket promoting bizarre symbolized concepts, she could be forgiven for thinking that he was indeed just a guard. However, as he began to speak, it became clear to her that there was more underfoot.\n\n\"Well, I suppose you think you are in for an arduous process. I would like to allay your concerns right now regarding this matter,\" the man states in an official voice. \"I only have a few statements to make to you. A few simple statements. You will then make a decision regarding how you want to proceed with the information I shall impart on you,\" he begins.\n\nEva sat silently, apparently the program of persuasion was about to begin.\n\n\"Firstly, let me say that you will not be harmed physically and will not be interfered with sexually. This is a standard statement,\" he continues, taking a small swig from a glass of water he had brought with him.\n\n\"What's in that, drugs?\" Eva asks defiantly. If she was going to be interfered with mentally, she might as well put up the indication that she would start fighting now.\n\n\"I assure you that I am at this present time not encumbered by any mind altering substance...\" states the man, cut short by Eva's sarcastic laughter. The man is unphased by this, but realized that he will need to change his tactic. For the first time in his career as a military negotiator – time was of the essence.\n\n\"Since you have made a gesture that you do not believe that statement that I have made, I will now proceed to empirically prove my point. In you training, you should be aware that the longest lasting of our available recreational substances has a lifespan of three days. I will sit here for three days or until such a time as you are satisfied that I am telling the truth.\"\n\nThree days pass with only, sitting, staring, eating and taking toilet breaks.\n\nThe man and woman are still in the room. Neither has said a word. Their respectively advanced training allows them to control their minds, their boredoms and desires.\n\n\"Fine\" Eva remarks with disgust.\n\n\"Shall I continue?\" the man implores, satisfied that Eva will now be more likely to cooperate. He takes a long, protracted breath and begins his speech:\n\n\"Our intelligence has confirmed that you are in possession of some information that could greatly assist our efforts in removing the threat to our sovereignty. I refer obviously to the XYZ-21 prototype encryption algorithm. To put it bluntly, we require you to divulge the coordinates of the laboratory that houses the development team. Naturally, we understand that you are not inclined, providing you profession, and\" - he paused to smile wryly - \"philosophy, to co-operate with our demands.\"\n\n\"So you're going to torture me?\" Eva says with a hint of fear, feigned to a certain extent based on her desire to draw out the process. She knows that her people were soon going to make use of what she had discovered. After the words escaped her mouth she has realized her supposed mistake. The man had revealed now that the enemy has known of the algorithm, but she also knew that there would be scant evidence linking her with her own discovery. She would need to somehow conceal her reactionary question and play the role of a simple technician which she had professed on capture.\n\n\"No\", the man replies succinctly.\n\n\"Rape me then?\" she snaps. She was half serious; although her knowledge of Civlarian society was rudimentary she knew that it was a place where there were no rules and no morals. While the outburst was again instigated by emotion, she also felt relieved that she had responded in a manner more befitting of a lower ranking individual.\n\n\"Although I have the equipment lady, I am not that way inclined,\" retorts the man, aiming to be equally provocative but now beginning to show the first signs of frustration.\n\nA short silence falls on the two as the man shuffles papers from briefcase and appears to read from the materials within.\n\n\"Here is your choice. Our civil society forbids the application of coercion and torture. We know that it will take at least three additional days to roll out the algorithm and corresponding hardware to your servers. As you might understand, the strategic advantage of having complete information confidentiality from our enemy, while at the same time having our most advanced cyphers capable of being cracked within 72 hours would burden us with a strategic disadvantage that would certainly lose us the war.\"\n\n\"You are an idiot. You are telling me this?\" she laughs. \"We knew it was good, but I never thought it was that good... now why in the name of our holy Aesuth would I proceed to divulge this information? And what would make you believe that I am indeed in possession of it?\"\n\nAt this point, she breaks out into almost uncontrollable laughter, echoing through the room. During this process, the man waits patiently and expressionlessly for her to stop, which, as with all sane people eventually happens.\n\n\"Your fabricated concept of Aesuth is of no relevance to this discussion.\"\n\n\"Then what do you have as leverage? You really must be drug fucked!\"\n\nAs she swears, her smile dissipated, sorry for the use of foul language.\n\n\"I am fully cognizant of the fact that in your warped perception of reality death to you is like some kind of fantasy holiday. Never ending. Therefor to threaten you with death would be the height of futility, and thus illogical. But I assure you, that despite your delusions, the universe does not bend itself to your will, nor to your imaginary friend. Just like me, prisoner, you are a biological machine. Fashioned out of the forces of random permutation and evolution. Life is inevitable, not a miracle, for the universe is infinite and any event, no matter how unlikely, must come to pass against infinite opportunity. This is basic mathematics and I laugh at the premise that a trained mathematician could fail to see this simple fact.\"\n\n\"Our Aesuth does not observe the rules of your limited and superficial understanding of the universe. He can change whatever he likes,\" she responds.\n\nFor the first time a different emotion begins to appear of the woman's face, anger as opposed to contempt. Now she was ready to unleash against the onslaught she had prepared for during her capture and imprisonment.\n\n\"Aesuth is a construction of your administration. This fictional entity serves only the purposes of your belligerent and corrupt religion. No, allow me to correct myself. Not your religion but the perverted monsters at the head of it. Men. Endowed with no supernatural powers or abilities apart from that of seducing weak minded idiots into believing fantasies in order to subjugate their will the their sick own bidding!\" spurts the man, reciprocating Eva's anger.\n\nAnger, instead of neutrality is not considered good form during negotiations – but once again he is reminded of the time constraints pertaining to this particular problem.\n\n\"It is the desire of the criminally insane to exercise control over other human beings - to deprive them of their free will, the only aspect of humanity that is ... in your perverse terminology... \"Holy\" - and what, may I ask, becomes of such controls? Pain. Pain is the antithesis of all that is right. The pain of dissidents being brutally suppressed. The inequity of your civilization which classifies its inhabitants based on their readiness to suck the cocks of those more powerful than them, deeming subhuman all those that chose to think differently – despite the fact that these poor people do not interfere with your own perception of life but simply want to think on an individual basis. All forms of intelligence are sacred and can't be caged in order to perpetuate your supposed notion of utopia.\"\n\n\"May I ask a question?\" chides Eva sarcastically – now clearly confident that her diversionary tactics would be easily applied to this individual. He seemed to be doing most of the talking and wasting most of the time himself.\n\n\"It's a free universe.\" the man replies.\n\n\"When you give an order to your soldiers, do they not obey? Do they not risk their lives to sustain your own, sick will - And this is the perverted will of a Man – in your own admission. What moral derelict would consider the selfish will of a man to be superior to that of the all mighty and benevolent Aesuth?\"\n\nShe continues -\n\n\"You society relishes in the selfish, the sick pursuit of pleasure. It is the greater part of us to relinquish this urge and serve the greater good. And yet, despite your perceived notions of individual freedoms you will send your men and women to die so that you may sustain your own power. For that you will burn in Hell. Where is your logic now in the face of this glaring contradiction?\"\n\nHe considers his response for a moment. Her rhetoric was starting to become as he suspected: more advanced than a mere technician. However, this thought also filled him with dread – since if his notion was right then he would have to bring himself to perform an act so contrary to his own beliefs that it made him sick. He certainly hoped that it would not come to that.\n\n\"There is no contradiction. While we in our civilization fully appreciate that life is meaningless without pleasure, it is also highly un-pragmatic to act as individuals in every instance. This is especially true when regimented monsters like you are around trying to subjugate all forms of individuality! The men and women who serve for me know that they face death, and therefore a premature termination of their ability to perceive life. But they are faced with a choice; to militarize, follow orders and fight as a group or be enslaved by your own sick kind! They have wives and children who they would prefer not to be raised to perform the automaton like sequences of your theocratic philosophy. They would prefer them not to be tortured into submission. They would prefer them not to be blown up by your suicide bombers, the most sick and deluded of your entire bunch!\" he bursts, slamming the table with frustration.\n\n\"And we have wives and children that we would prefer not to go to Hell,\" came the retort.\n\nTo this the man produces a long and protracted sigh, considered defeated by Eva but known to be ominous by the man. Her only psychological hook was Hell – quite standard of the enemy.\n\n\"So, you fear Hell? I am actually counting on this....\" trails the man, now staring blankly into space.\n\nPuzzled, the woman shoots a glance. This was the first surprising thing she had heard through the process.\n\n\"Although it sickens me, your concept of Hell, where a person will suffer perpetually, for a finite amount of crime... and, let's face it, you people use the term very loosely, is something that is not completely devoid of fact. You see, everything you experience is a result of chemical and electrical structures in the biological machine that is your brain and body. While you mythological concept of Hell is a pure fantasy, the idea of invoking it artificially is actually achievable and within the technology that we have today.\"\n\n\"You said you were not going to torture me,\" she replies with a grin – not aware of the gravity of her situation.\n\n\"You, unfortunately, are an exceptional case. It's just bad luck, but partly you are to blame for taking the paths that have allowed you, through your complicity of evil and willingness to serve those that propagate it, to become a very regrettable exception to the rule. We have developed the technology to create, well for lack of a better term – ultimate pain. Normally, our previous simulations on bio-synth processors have yielded the same result. The receptors that feel the pain themselves get eaten out, rendering our system unworkable within a couple of days. Our simulations also show that given a maximum resistance quotient, a human being is capable of resisting protected information for about that long and naturally the system becomes less and less effective the longer that it is applied...\"\n\nColonel Thraetium had overseen this project himself. It involved two components – the first was a chemical and electrical stimulation of the brain with a powerful drug – coupled with another potent drug which was a neuroprotector. Although never tested on an actual human being or for that matter an animal, he knew that the science behind it would work. The neuroprotector was a more advanced version of another drug that was used in medicine, mainly to reconstruct the pleasure centers of those citizens that had overindulged... and the bio-synth computers were capable of completely simulating a human brain and its reactions with chemicals. In theory it would work – but he secretly hoped that it didn't.\n\n\"So, in effect you plan to deprive me of me free will?\" the smile had faded from her face half way through the Colonel's speech. She waited with stony-faced anticipation for reply.\n\n\"It is an exception to the rule but although we are benevolent, we must be pragmatic first. Your choice is simple – provide the information willingly, or undergo the procedure. I think I have already established a reputation that I do not lie.\"\n\n\"And your civil society accepts this action?\" Eva spurts with disgust.\n\n\"Our civil society does not know.\"\n\nCHAPTER 2 - THE CITADEL\n\nWhile Civlarian society was not aware of the new mechanism, neither were the Aesuthites.\n\nThe scene opens in a garden oasis. Uniform buildings litter the skyline and symmetry can be observed in all aspects of the architecture. Calm music permeates the atmosphere, dispensed by discreetly hidden loudspeakers in a network capable of covering the entire Realm. While the land is mostly flat, there is a small area of high ground from which emerges an intricate and magnificent spire. This is the capital city of the Realm; dubbed the Citadel by Aesuthites and Civlarians alike.\n\n\"Her tracking signal ends here. May Aesuth protect her!\"\n\nThe man settles a piece of paper on an ornate desk, encrusted with precious stones arranged into religious symbols of ascending significance. The man sitting behind the desk is dressed piously, nodding his thanks.\n\nAs the lieutenant leaves, he hesitates. Although protocol discourages further communications with such a high ranking priest, he is on this occasion overcome by some concern.\n\n\"She's going to be alright, isn't she?\" the lieutenant asks softly.\n\nThe priest is taken aback, but after studying for some small time the sincerity in the lieutenant's countenance he utters his doctrine approved answer: \"Yes\".\n\nThe lieutenant leaves satisfied.\n\nHigh Priest Phillips is highly cognizant of that the fact that XYZ-21 is of grave significance to the plight of his civilization. Under normal circumstances, the Citadel and indeed the Realm would have been a peaceful and tranquil place – and indeed perfect. Today however, tranquility was extremely hard to come by – he was faced with an extremely dangerous situation. His daughter's discovery had elevated him above his caste, an honor that is rarely endowed upon an Aesuthite citizen. In reality, the encryption algorithm would much likely dictate the fate of the war. The unfortunate fact was that after 100 years of conflict, Blaspemoth (which was the commonly used derogatory term for Civlar) and his beloved Realm were still at loggerheads. While the population of the Realm swelled, devoid of the inhuman robotic workers that propped up the Civlarian economy, they were only able to match the capacity of the Civlarian air force and while a land army would certainly overwhelm their feeble population, there was no way for such an army to penetrate the respective Domes of their civilizations.\n\nNormally not a deceitful man, the Priest (being of military role) began to mull over in his mind the outcomes and scenarios pertinent to his problem.\n\nTo rescue his daughter would require Special Forces involvement. While it was well established that smuggling suicide bombers into the Blaspemoth was possible, he was fully aware also, that should such forces be detected and captured, the importance of her status and understandings would become known to the enemy. Additionally, the idea of suicide bombers is that they are expendable. While ten get captured, one gets through. The very concept that highly skilled Special Forces personnel would be used such a way would immediately provoke the attention of the highest ranks in the Blaspemoth.\n\nThe satellite implant trace had been deactivated on the 7th sector, known traditionally as the location of the prisons. A simple technical engineer would certainly be kept there without any special considerations so he considered that the Special Forces option was not futile.\n\nHe recoiled at his selfishness! He knew also the other option, one which has an absolute chance of success – but rendered his daughter to an equally absolute fate: death.\n\nIf he were to try and rescue his daughter, a backup plan was necessary. If the Special Forces were detected, the prison sector would need to be nuked immediately – at a minimum it would take three and at a maximum seven. This was half the nuclear arsenal. Indeed, the prison sector would be loosely guarded against such an attack, since they would not consider that their enemy would regretfully mass murder their own prisoners of war.\n\nThe third option was to destroy the ground target with laser bombing, but this would need to divert so many of their aircraft to that prospective goal the ongoing air war would suffer immensely, leaving his blessed homeland open to an attack that could also destroy the very seat that he was now sitting upon, should the opportunistic heathens see that chance.\n\nAesuth had provided him, through XYZ-21, dubbed \"the Divine Algorithm\", with the very means of ending the war for good and yet had now, through the capture of his daughter, seemingly undermined that very blessing.\n\n\"He tests us...\" he thought, \"or perhaps, me.\"\n\nPhillips knew that the High Order would not accept the Special Forces option. It was a risk, whereas Vengeance (the nuclear option) was a certainty. After all, devotion was most holy, yet without pragmatism they would perish.\n\nOverwhelmed by the love of his own daughter, he had now conspired to lie to the High Order about this situation he was aware of.\n\nHe would give them a fictitious reason for entering the Blaspemoth, and once inside he would order them to rescue his daughter. If they were detected however, he would simply confess to the situation. He would be executed for treason, but Vengeance would be mobilized.\n\nCHAPTER 3 - THE BAR\n\n\"Fuck, I needed that!\" drones Colonel Thraetium slowly. He sits back and listens to the background music of the bar, now become predominant over the chatting of the people around him. The music is laden with a heavy deep synthetic guitar which ascends over a subtle yet penetrating melody and thumping baseline.\n\nYOU FUCKING THINK YOU OWN ME!  \nI OWN MYSELF!  \nI AM THE GOD OF ME!  \nJURISTICTION – ME!\n\nSTEP TO THIS AND EAT MY SHIT!  \nSCATTER YOUR BRAIN WITH MY AJ-12!  \n...............IF ONLY YOU HAD SOME ANYWAY!\"\n\nSpots of color and fractaline images danced against his eyelids as he closed them.\n\nThe smokeless inhalation device had been set to strong, and Colonel Thraetium had felt it almost immediately. His mind finally drifted away into a personal space. However, being a veteran of Pleasurin-12 he was solidified in his belief that he could handle it.\n\nHis drifting mind was interrupted by the seemingly echoing voice of his mate and bartender, Peter. As he opens his eyes he sees the bartender smiling at his old friend:\n\n\"Go easy, buddy, two people carked it last season!\"\n\nSome short silence passed.\n\n\"I'm just kidding!\" the bartender beamed, \"you know we always do it by the stats! This Pleasurin-12 is much better than the Pleasurin-11 too. They identified an allergy that some people suffered from and modified the molecule to make it safe.\"\n\nThe Colonel was still working his way to the peak.\n\n\"Safer.\" the bartender corrected after some consideration.\n\n\"It's all relative,\" the Colonel smirked, now overcome by an incredible rush.\n\n\"So what's got you in a party mood, Colonel?\" Peter inquires.\n\nColonel Thraetium appears now to snap from his experience, but not completely. He composes himself for a long sentence. \"No party friend, in fact quite the opposite. Let's just say I took one for the team. Well, there was something I didn't need to see....\"\n\n\"She just wouldn't listen. The psych tests said she was sane too.\" he thought secretly to himself.\n\nMEANWHILE:\n\nThe president sat at his desk, reclined on his seat and with his feet on the table.\n\nHis mind was filled with grandeur of a massive victory; soon he would be remembered forever as the greatest president that had ever served the citizens of Civlar.\n\nHis thoughts were interrupted by an abrupt knock on the door as his secretary entered the room.\n\n\"Sir, the report on the economy is in.\"\n\nThe president chuckled -\n\n\"The economy!? Don't waste my time with such an issue at a time like this! Next you'll be telling me that the toilet is broken.\"\n\n\"Well, one of our mainframes broke down and...\" continued the secretary before he is abruptly cut short.\n\n\"So? We are at 98% efficiency instead of 100% efficiency,\" stated the president, proceeding next to point out of his window to a man walking in a slow exaggerated stride down the street. A young lady was skipping behind, topless.\n\n\"Do you think he cares?\"\n\n\"Well, no...\"\n\n\"Then why, in the name of logic – would I care? The computers control the economy and the robots do all the work - nobody is concerned! Tell me something to be excited about – how about the Ministry of Music? Don't they have any news?\"\n\n\"Ah... yes. That new song we subsidized is doing great!\" replied the secretary.\n\n\"Yeah!\" bellowed the president. The president then jumped up from his desk, pointing his finger in excitement. \"Also a forgone conclusion, dear friend, but much more relevant. You have a lot to learn about politics!\"\n\n\"I AM THE GOD OF ME!\" He started singing badly, and playing an air guitar.\n\n\"JURISTICTION – ME!\" joined in the secretary, relieved that the economic report was not going to put the president in a bad mood today.\n\n\"Now that is money well spent! A robot can't produce art! We'll win the next election for sure!\"\n\n\"Definitely about the election, our simulations show that that song gives the highest pleasure rating for 93% of surveyed individuals,\" reminded the secretary, \"You truly are a man of firsts!\"\n\nThe phone rings to interrupt the revelry - It was the leader of the Opposition.\n\n\"G'day mate. I heard what you were doing. If you ask me its lunacy!\" came the shrill voice of the opposition leader.\n\n\"Nobody is asking you. Check the polls!\" laughed the president.\n\n\"You are backwards. You want to increase the subsidy on drugs and decrease the subsidy on sex! Our studies have shown that the opposite needs to be done!\"\n\n\"Drugs distribute pleasure more consistently than sex,\" reminded the president, confident in this private yet rhetorical victory against his adversary.\n\n\"True - but drugs are costing us a lot in research and development! Sex, on the other hand, well the women figure out the research and development for that themselves... it's a distributed process, not a centralized one!\"\n\n\"You would say that!\" bellowed the president, placing his palms against the desk and cocking his head to further taunt his opponent, \"Being from the Distributed party, you are the party of inefficiency! How much funding did you get from the Prostitutes' Union last year? Remind me again?\"\n\nThe secretary walks out of the room. This will be a long one.\n\nCHAPTER 4 - WORKERS OF THE REALM\n\n3 years before in the Realm...\n\nPrecinct 7 was about as remote a backwater as you could find in the Realm. It was mainly an agricultural region but also scattered with several mineral mines and factories. Indeed, the entire zone was considered remote by standards of the Realm and the populations of precinct 7 were generally of the lower classes, known as the serfs. Whereas the high priests were not inclined to visit such an area, their influence and stronghold over the population was even more repressive here, since the lack of material wealth and education was long established by the higher officials to be a source of rebellion. While rebel groups were known to the administration, the ongoing war with Civlar meant that such groups were largely allowed to exist, provided that they do not cause any real headaches.\n\nAndrew Petersburg was not a rebel. A small farmer with a meager income, he spent most of his time those days tending the fields, since he was keen to make the bonus on his quota for the wheat he grew. His existence was simple and unencumbered with the problems of administration and planning. That day however his mind was active with the promise of marriage to his girlfriend Joanna. He had already procured the necessary permission from her parents, and although his parents were then dead, he knew that they would be proud of what he was about to embark upon. He also loved Joanna deeply and knew that this love was mutual.\n\nOnly two things had stood in the way: making his quota bonus and getting permission from the priests. Of both these requirements he was confident. It was that day that they would visit the office and procure the marriage certificate allowing them to wed.\n\nEventually, he heard the knock on the door that he had been awaiting – it was Joanna. They greeted each other with an embrace and a kiss. The taxi was waiting across the road and it would be a short journey to the registration office.\n\nDuring the trip neither Andrew of Joanna said a word. Both their thoughts were transfixed on upcoming events. As the driver pulled into the registration office, they paid him quickly and made their way inside. The line today was not very long and soon they were at the front of the queues. After a small moment of administrative talk with the registrar they were both asked to wait in a private room.\n\nA priest emerges from the door.\n\n\" _I understand it that you are looking to get married?\" he asked cordially._\n\n\" _Yes, sir.\" they both replied simultaneously._\n\n\" _It says here that you already have the blessing of your respective parents, and I can see that you both have a clean record. However, the State requires only one more thing of you before we can process your application. Have you heard of the 'Divine Nature Analysis' test?\" asked the priest._\n\n\" _I heard of it but I'm not...\" replied Joanna, cut short by the priest's continuation._\n\n\" _That's alright. What we will need to do for the Divine Nature Analysis is take a sample of each of your blood, for imbued within is the records of your deeds – good and evil,\" he said producing a small syringe._\n\nThey both gave a blood sample and waited patiently for the result.\n\nAt the laboratory section of the office, the priest sat waiting for the technician to produce the result. As she burst into slight laughter the priest interjected: \"What is the source of your amusement?\"\n\nThe technician snapped back into sensible countenance.\n\n\" _Well, the woman is normal, 50% chance of triplets. But the man...well he's almost infertile.\" said the technician. \"In fact it shows here that there is only a 1/1000 chance of pregnancy, even with such a fertile female.\"_\n\n\" _I see,\" stated the priest._\n\nAs the priest entered the waiting room Andrew and Joanna notice the stern look on his face.\n\n\" _I am afraid that the Realm is unable to accept your application,\" he stated, \"It appears that there has been some evil on the Andrew's side – the evil is clearly visible. At this point I am required to issue the following warning – do not attempt to marry or engage in any extramarital activities. Any such conduct, apart from being an affront to the State and Aesuth himself can also result in severe and tangible repercussions to your own respective health. I warn you now that premarital sex will cause AIDS, which is the highest incitement of Aesuth's disgust. It is a disease of the soul that will cause painful death.\"_\n\nThe pair sat sobbing in their seats. Andrew's mind raced as he tried to make sense of this. What possible evil could he have committed to have the most important thing in his life ripped away from him?\n\nThey both left the registration office trembling. They would have to walk back home now, since the taxi was only a luxury necessitated to keep their clothes clean for the office. It was a long walk and as with the taxi ride there they did not say a word to each other but for an obviously different set of circumstances.\n\nBecause they felt thirsty and tired from their walk, and also their ordeal, Andrew and Joanna headed into a local shop. After purchasing some juice they both sit down and finally start to talk about their situation.\n\n\" _I didn't do anything, Joanna,\" Andrew stated in a hushed whisper. Joanna couldn't look him in the eye, but manages to show a sign of empathy on her face. \"The test can't be wrong; we better not see each other anymore.\"_\n\nWithout words, they both implicitly agree to one last kiss. They didn't notice the shopkeeper's sideways glance and hasty retraction.\n\nAndrew sat alone in his living room defeated beyond belief. He needed to talk to somebody about the events, but to admit to failing the Divine Nature Analysis test would certainly have destroyed his reputation amongst the men. Of all his friends, David seemed like the best option to relieve himself of this burden, since it was almost commonly agreed that David himself was slightly on the erratic side. He heads onto the street and dispatches a local child to retrieve David.\n\nDavid arrived within moments, aware of the fact that it would have been a big day for Andrew and something might have gone wrong that required his help. As he entered and saw the sullen expression on Andrew's face, David knew that this was more than a simple administrative bungle or the need to borrow some item. While the events of the day were slowly explained to David, he showed a remarkable tolerance and understanding – quite unlike the smart-arse attitudes that he was normally infamous for.\n\n\" _They are full of shit,\" David states bluntly, \"You've done nothing wrong.\"_\n\nCrude as it were, this came as some consolation to Andrew. At least one of his friends now understood his situation. As David excused himself to use to toilet, Andrew heard another knock on the door. He walked slowly and opened it. With some shock and surprise he found the priest standing officially at the entrance.\n\n\" _It was a mistake\" - the first thing that came to Andrew's mind. Unfortunately, it was no mistake, there was worse to come as the priest stepped into the hallway._\n\n\" _We know you have been having pre-marital sex, Andrew,\" the priest announced bluntly. As Andrew readied himself for a rigorous defense of this claim, the priest continued abruptly, \"it's a forgone conclusion; you can't undo the damage you have caused. However, there is still one option available to you, although it is not guaranteed to be effective.\"_\n\nThe priest produced a small syringe. \"This is your only chance, young man. To avoid AIDS and the languishing death it causes, I will need to administer this.\"\n\nAndrew held out his arm.\n\n\" _It is not guaranteed to be effective, but it's your only choice...\"_\n\nWith a crash the priest was sent hurtling to the ground, rendered unconscious by David's thrust chair.\n\nDavid was a dissident, and he was one of the few serfs who were aware of the needle's implication. A furious yet brief explanation was quickly rendered to Andrew, who although in a state of shock, acknowledges that the implications contained therein were consistent with what had transpired.\n\nWhat followed was a hasty sprint to Joanna's house.\n\nAs the heaving, sweating men appeared to her doorstep, Joanna was less than delighted. After a hasty explanation, Joanna was still resisting the concept.\n\n\" _It's the AIDS Joanna; you must not let the priests get you!\" Andrew implored._\n\n\" _No, Andrew, it's you. I didn't believe it before but now I see why the test went bad!\" she cried._\n\nDavid interjected with a cunning plan. He would hide in the house, and should the priest arrive and render the same deception upon Joanna, she would know that they had been telling the truth and then he would intervene to stop the injection. Andrew was ordered to hide in a nearby field and not let his self be seen until the situation was determined. Although disgusted by the deception, Joanna agreed that logically the plan made sense. She had always been a virgin and there would be no way that the priests could make such a mistake.\n\nThe priest did arrive, this time accompanied by a single police officer with a small firearm. The gash across his face was clearly evident but now cleaned up and bandaged. Joanna's distraught state was no surprise to the priest, considering the test result and his suspicions of vice. As he started his speech, Joanna instantly realized that her fiancée was telling the truth. She continued acting, admitting guilt to the sex claim. As the priest put his hand in his pocket to produce the syringe, David's quick response caught the police officer by surprise. The officer only managed to raise his weapon half-way before David's swift hand caught a hold of it. His other hand, armed with knife, was thrust immediately at the jugular vein. The officer continued to struggle and spurt and gargle, but the wound was draining him of his energy quickly and he was soon dead. Joanna meanwhile kicks the table over and sends the priest crashing to the floor, pinned down by the table and destined for the same fate as the officer.\n\nCHAPTER 5 - REST AND RELAXATION\n\nFlight official Pliss had only finished the academy a month ago. As customary, he had been partying ever since, knowing full well that the statistical odds of being killed in first combat were a staggering ten percent.\n\nPliss, a single man, was only twenty-one and is currently without a partner. Although he wanted children and a family, not only for the fulfillment of having a child to love and bring up, but also for the standard, though less charitable, reasons in Civlar: from a social perspective he did not want to be seen as an evolutionary failure. Pliss can't be said to be too unattractive, but his intensive studies and habits have always conflicted with his search for a girlfriend, although he did have a couple to his record.\n\nToday, he decided to try something different.\n\nAfter having a shower and putting on some fine garments, he heads out to the public transport hub to take a ride to the red light area. As he has only just graduated from the academy and not yet earned any real money from actual combat missions, he currently relies on the public system to get around.\n\nWhile he is making his way out, he runs into one of his close friends, Amy. He thinks this might be the perfect time to boast about the night of debauchery he has planned.\n\n\"Do you have private sex insurance?\" asks Amy.\n\n\"No, I didn't think I'd need it,\" confessed Pliss anxious to hide his feelings of failure.\n\nGiggling, Amy reminds Pliss that the government rebate from the Department of Fun is about to be downgraded soon, so he picked the right time to do what he was doing. \"Cheap as chips! But – the drugs are at full rates...now if you had private, you could really afford to kick on!\"\n\n\"Maybe I should get my own!\" he joked, knowing full well that only the government was allowed to run the brothels. A few corruption scandals a dozen or so year back had solidified that arrangement, although it was not normally in the philosophy of the government to stifle free enterprise.\n\nAs the shuttle stops at the red light zone, Pliss begins to make his way through the maze of partygoers and buildings. It is hard work, since many now had taken copious quantities of Pleasurin, Cruise or Love and was inclined to hug him at random, or stop him to ask meaningless questions. He is almost exhausted when he gets to the brothel, which he had considered to be the classiest based on its outward appearance and reputation.\n\nHe enters through the door from the rowdy atmosphere of the street into a calm and relaxed surrounding, air conditioned and scented with mellow music playing in the background. He had already spent the day preparing his conversational technique and topics with the prostitute, since the sex would only be a small portion of the allotted time. He doesn't really have anything much to discuss however, since his life was rather dull as a student and he didn't really know about much else. The only real question that came to mind was something he thought rather rude – particularly, why would this woman, whom like all men, being trained to a minimum of Class-15a level - chose to become a prostitute as opposed to a doctor or technician. \"I doubt she would take offense if I asked,\" he thought. After all, simple insult is not a persecution crime and he was truly curious.\n\nAfter some small distracted absence, the receptionist sees him and smiles.\n\n\"How are you today?\" she asks.\n\n\"Good\" he replies succinctly.\n\n\"How long are you planning to stay tonight? 3 or 5 hours? And how many women would you like? Or would you prefer men?\" asks the receptionist, standard questions as they were.\n\n\"No\" he laughed, \"just one woman will suffice!\" exclaims Pliss.\n\n\"Well, you're easy to please! Since your order is so small, you won't have to wait long. May I ask if you are privately insured?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"In that case, would you prefer a government prostitute or a contractor? Although, they can be a bit pricey.\"\n\nThe receptionist stands up, leaned over the desk and whispers in his ear: \"If you ask me, they are all equally hot, it's just, you know, those 'status types' that always go for the contractors. What do you do for a living? I bet it's with the government, or still studying? At your age you must be advanced!\"\n\n\"Air force\", he replies proudly. She looks impressed. \"In that case, let me make some adjustments. We usually don't let Veronica with anybody new to our brothel, but she really has a thing for military men.\"\n\n\"Great! While you are waiting, what drugs are you after? Unfortunately, without private insurance...\"\n\n\"Full rate, I know. How about some Pleasurin-12!\" requests Pliss, being the standard drug of choice in Civlar.\n\n\"Sir, studies indicate that Pleasurin-12 increases sexual stimulation and enjoyment by only 200%. You really should try the new Luxlar; it has a minimum increase of 500%. Trust me, you can handle it! Actually, forget the payment, I'll shout you one! I just want you to enjoy yourself!\"\n\n\"That's very kind of you!\" he exclaims, wondering whether he would prefer the receptionist instead, but quickly corrected his thoughts. That's not her job.\n\n\"I'll put you in for 3 hours\", she grins. \"When you go into combat, ice some fundies for me!\" said the receptionist, handing over some small triangle shaped pills.\n\nSitting in the room, the effects of the Luxlar slowly started to envelop. At even the slightest thought of what was about to happen to him, his erection would start to rise, almost too fast to be comfortable. \"I hope I'm not too fast....\" he murmured nervously.\n\n\"You can be as fast or slow as you want to be,\" chimes a gentle voice from across the room. \"Luxlar is like that.\"\n\nShe strode over and sat by the bed. \"Talk or sex first?\" she asked.\n\nDespite the effects of the Luxlar, Pliss was still curious about his previous question that had come to mind. \"Err... not much talk, but I'm just wondering...\" he starts.\n\n\"Freedom of Information is a law, right and duty.\" she beamed comically.\n\n\"Uh... well, I suppose you would be, like...Class-15?\" Pliss continues.\n\n\"No, I am Class-17 actually,\" Veronica responds.\n\nEmbarrassed, Pliss makes a hasty apology, \"Wow, that's a whole class above me!\"\n\n\"You are wondering why I do this, don't you?\" she smiled, \"I think that question is rhetorical, since we Class-17 are highly perceptive. There's no intricate philosophy to it, friend. I like sex.\" she said with a fixed gaze. She wasn't really angry; she was just playing with him. Veronica found it was always entertaining to get her client slightly nervous.\n\n\"But so many men?\" Pliss asks softly. \"Yes\", she whispered, her eyes glazing over with affection, \"so many men.\" Pliss began to consider this perspective, but was interrupted by the commencement of a blow job. They were right, she was good.\n\nPliss woke up in a haze of satisfaction. Veronica was already awake and sipping on a coffee. \"Did you like my uniform?\" she asks.\n\n\"Well, it's a bit strange, but I'm certain it was effective...\" is Pliss' drowsy reply.\n\nThen waking himself further, he thinks now that this was not just a rhetorical question.\n\n\"It's a lot more, conservative, than I would have imagined. You look like...\" he stopped short.\n\n\"A Zealot?\" Veronica inquired with excitement.\n\n\"Apart from the high heels and stockings!\" he laughs.\n\n\"I thought you'd like it, being a military man,\" said Veronica.\n\nThis was a confusing concept to Pliss and he knew that she intended it to be.\n\nFeeling bold, possibly by the experience, he jokes - \"I'm not a rapist!\"\n\n\"I didn't imply that you were! Perhaps you had managed to 'reform' me – did you ever consider that?\"\n\n\"Hence the heels!\" he says with complete understanding,\n\nCHAPTER 6 - FLIGHT QF-204\n\n\"Airbus QF-204 if ready for departure,\" the loudspeakers announce cheerily.\n\nNancy looks around at her fellow passengers that now made their way casually towards the aircraft. Unlike the regular crowd, this particular flight was full of lawyers, psychiatrists, various specialists and technicians. Very apt, considering that this was not a 'regular' destination.\n\nTheir aircraft, the UI-9, was considered small by conventional standards. This added further to the feelings of trepidation now welling up inside her. However, she knew that she needed to visit her grandson and this was the only way in which to accomplish that goal.\n\nAs with all airports in Civlar, there were no immigration or customs and Nancy thankfully found herself seated in the comfort of the cabin within moments. She heard the doors closing and compressing, the engines firing up and then the slight shudder of the fuselage as the craft began to hover its way to the top of the Dome. They proceed slowly towards the airlock. As the great gates crash behind them, the external gates open, and the craft accelerates out into the polluted Earth. She looks back at the 10 turrets towering above the dome as they slowly disappear into the distance.\n\nShe clasps her hands and produces a long sigh. This is noticed by a flight attendant who promptly walks over to attend to the comfort of her passenger. She's seen this kind of thing before, and she knows exactly what to say.\n\n\"You need not worry, madam, our aircraft is made out of the same materials as the Dome itself – and you don't seen and viruses of Nanos in there do you?\" she smiles.\n\n\"I know my fear is illogical,\" Nancy chuckled, \"but I'm still scared.\"\n\nThe rest of the 2 hour flight to the outskirts of Civlar would be quite enjoyable. Although she had passed her prime with respects to enjoying the in-flight benefits and partying she did manage to have a few conversations with the fellow passengers and watch half of a movie.\n\nTowards the latter part of the flight, something strange started to happen. She had noticed the worried expressions on the faces of several flight attendants and some hasty scampering by the crew. Immediately her previous paranoia returned to her and she called upon an attendant to explain what is happening.\n\n\"What's going on?\" Nancy whispers.\n\n\"There is a lady who had fallen asleep and ... she isn't waking up.\"\n\n\"That's bizarre, will she be alright.\"\n\n\"Of course – our medics are looking into it as we speak.\"\n\nAfter some minutes, the commotion appears to end. Curious to discover the conclusion, Nancy steps up and walks towards the front of the aircraft and begins to make inquiries. Being slightly nosy was one of the benefits of being elderly.\n\n\"Heroin overdose, would you believe?\" laughs the attendant.\n\nHeroin?\n\n\"Yes, it struck us by surprise too. The medics thought their equipment was defective – but the auxiliary tests confirmed it. She's awake now; we gave her some revival drugs.\" She pointed at a drowsy looking woman sitting near the front row.\n\nAlthough heroin was not illegal, it is considered to be crude beyond belief. Nobody uses it. It seemed extremely odd – no doubt the TV crews would be waiting upon landing to put it on the \"Darwin Files\". Perhaps she'd get some prize money, if people thought it was the funniest of the season.\n\n\"What happened?\" Nancy asks quietly to the female passenger.\n\n\"Ahhh... I'm not sure, I fell asleep. But, I didn't take any heroin! I think there might be a rapist on board....\"\n\n\"Terrible!\"\n\n\"Yes, the police have been notified at our destination, but just keep it between ourselves. The best chance of capture is to let him think he's not been detected,\" informed the flight attendant overhearing the conversation.\n\n\"Well, he's chosen the right destination, hasn't he?\" exclaimed another flight attendant.\n\nThey reached their destination.\n\nThe procedure for entering the other Dome would be quite different from leaving the previous one. Again, a set of airlocks were involved, but this time two turrets were poised directly at the aircraft. The decontamination process had started. While the air outside started to glow hot, the windows closed to save the passengers from the blinding light. The process took three minutes and the air started to return to normal. The viewing windows opened again, now that the blinding light of the decontamination mechanism had been removed.\n\n\"Scanning for contaminants,\" announced the pilot.\n\nEverybody groaned. It took longer to scan for contaminants than the flight had taken. Every atom inside the aircraft was analyzed by the remote scanners at the airport. All the time, the turrets remain fixed on the aircraft.\n\nBack at her own seat, Nancy sees that the woman in front of her now looked nervous. She was wearing horns on her head and was quite young and fit. She is glad that it was not just the elderly that was afraid of flying.\n\nCHAPTER 7 - WORKERS OF THE REALM PART II\n\n3 years ago in the Realm...\n\nSitting in the basement together, they were both shocked at their position. David had managed to find them accommodation in a basement, one that had been built without the approval of the planning committees and was owned by a dissident friend. The heavy built man, Gregory Smite was on the surface a regular miner, complete with scruffy beard and hair, but like their newly discovered awareness of David, he was in fact somewhat of a leader amongst the small group, yet unnamed, of theological separatists operating in Precinct 7. The house was empty then, as Gregory had already gone to work for the midnight shift, however both Joanna and Andrew were not inclined to investigate above since they knew of the dire consequences of being discovered, particularly at this sensitive time.\n\nIndeed they were prisoners of their own circumstances and although the basement was fitted with basic amenities, they knew that the boredom and desire for freedom would soon overcome them. How long should they wait? A week? Two? Could they go outside if they were disguised appropriately?\n\nAndrew looked around. In this area was a small bookshelf full of books, a toilet room, a small pantry for food, various items which had been stored haphazardly as well as strange vats and bottles aside one of the walls. Of these, the vats were certainly the cause for most curiosity since neither of them could read. Their minds ran with speculation about their contents. Perhaps they were explosives of some kind or a makeshift setup to store fresh water in the event of an extended period of civil unrest?\n\nJoanna was first in inspecting the vats. She picked up the bottles and inspected them by sight and smell – it was definitely some kind of chemical. The other vat she proclaimed was full of air since there was no discernible smells being emitted. Soon they were both deliberating about the contents of the first vat.\n\n\" _It smells...like some kind of solvent,\" commented Andrew._\n\n\" _Then why put them in bottles? Who needs to dissolve anything so much?\" queried Joanna._\n\nThen they discovered something that put light on the whole subject. A small glass nearby was also laced with the same strange odor, a clear implication that the substance was for drinking. They both concluded that it must be alcohol now. Alcohol was a known poison which was almost certain to cause death upon consumption. A suicide pact was silently brewing in both their minds, after all they were not going to fit in with their new landlords and even if they did their lives would certainly be boring beyond the extreme. They both looked at each other with an expression of guilt and anxiousness and they knew that their thoughts were aligned.\n\n\" _Look,\" said Joanna, \"There's nothing for us anymore, and we should take this and end it now.\"_\n\nAndrew nodded his consent. He picked up a bottle, opened it, and began to swallow the contents. He felt the sharp sting slide down his throat and the bitterness well upon his tongue.\n\n\" _I feel warm,\" he announced._\n\nJoanna now started to join in, taking swig after swig against her friction point of nausea. Within moments they were both perilously drunk. Their moods had indeed changed and it wasn't long until another forbidden concept started to emerge as a satisfactory alternative to suicide. After all, the house was empty above them.\n\nWhat followed was a frenzy of hasty yet clumsy removal of clothes, kissing, fondling and then sex.\n\nAs the morning dawned, they were both slightly intoxicated. Andrew had managed to put his shirt on backwards which was a cause for much amusement for Joanna. With a rapt on the trapdoor, George entered with some breakfast and was equally amused by the state of his guests.\n\n\" _I see you have made avail of my refreshments, I won't begrudge you that!\" he chuckled while placing the meals upon the pantry._\n\n\" _What's the other vat?\" slur's Joanna._\n\n\" _Nitrous Oxide!\" boasts George, complete with a grin and a stroke of his beard._\n\n\" _What exactly is nitrous oxide?\" Andrew asked - his crackled words forced out through a haze of hangover and headache._\n\n\" _It's better than the alcohol, that's what it is!\"_\n\n\" _By Aesuth! You work in a mine, don't you? How do you pass the weekly drug tests?\"_\n\n\" _You will find, my dear, that it is quite undetectable.\"_\n\nGeorge explains that he works in a zinc mine and while stealing would be punishable by death under normal circumstances, he \"accidentally\" brings home enough zinc filings on his work clothes to make the nitrous, coupled with nitric acid from the batteries that his mine throws away. All this he had learnt from a rudimentary book about ancient medicine.\n\nWhile they eat their breakfast, Joanna eagerly, and Andrew with extreme care, their belated host commences to pump some N2O from the vat into a couple of party balloons. Soon they all had balloons in their hand and were inhaling the sweet contents.\n\n\" _You're right...\" drifts Joanna, \"that's better than\" - she is cut short by a lapse into unconsciousness._\n\nAndrew on the other hand finds not only the extreme rush of the oxide but also relief from the hangover symptoms, a technicality he deliberates upon which he is most thankful for.\n\nGeorge, on the other hand, continues to clean up around himself, the only indicator a massive grim appearing intermittently as he works.\n\nAfter eating breakfast, Andrew makes some further inquiries about the books.\n\nKarl Marx, The Holy Bible, My First ABC, Goldilocks, A Clockwork Orange, The Satanic Verses, The History of Medicine Edition 2, The Theory of Relativity Explained, Mechanical Engineering Unit 1...\n\n\" _I found them in a locked case underground while I was building this basement. For what reason I am not sure, somebody had felt the need to preserve them underground – not deep enough to have been detected by the subterranean layer of the Dome. They are from the 20th Century as far as I can tell. At first, my friend, I had the same problems as you, but you will find that one of the books is actually some kind of explanation of the system of symbols they used to write with. Perhaps it was intended for children – in any case after many successive nights of examination I had managed to learn how to read and I am quite happy to teach you everything I know.\"_\n\nThey both agree that this would be very nice of him.\n\n2 months had then passed.\n\nThe scene opens again at the basement. Seven people crowd around, sharing alcohol and nitrous. This was a meeting of the Precinct 7 Dissidents. At that moment the group officially includes George, Paul, Sam, David and Tom.\n\nThe night was devoted to rambling conversations concerning what they had learnt – electricity, addition, new words, philosophical concepts.\n\nAndrew placed the 'Holy Bible' upon the makeshift table and points to a page.\n\n\" _You see that,\" he stated with amusement, \"it must be a mistake – there are three zeros. Surely they mean a hundred?\"_\n\n\" _No my friend,\" interjected Sam, a slim and slightly nervous looking man, \"That's a thousand. I have seen enough quota registers to have figured out that system of numbering...to an extent.\"_\n\nAndrew looked puzzled.\n\n\" _It's ten lots of a hundred, that's the simplest way I can explain it.\"_\n\n\" _So what is the greatest number?\" Joanna asked boldly._\n\n\" _I've been looking for that one everywhere,\" George stated, pointing at the bookshelf. \"Perhaps there is no greatest... maybe it just goes on forever.\"_\n\n\" _Like the Sun.\"_\n\n\" _On another topic,\" Andrew queried, \"is there any chance of getting out of here? It's been 8 weeks now; perhaps the priests have stopped looking?\"_\n\n\" _It's not just you that you should be concerned about, friend, if you ever get captured they will extract the information about our group upon torture, then we are all doomed,\" George expressed in a hushed tone of empathy._\n\n\" _Just wait a moment,\" interjects Tom, \"How do you feel about joining us on a mission? You see, being fugitives does not preclude you from covert activities, since it is all our collective ambitions to go undetected.\"_\n\nAlthough he talked in a sophisticate's style, this new man's meaning was quite clear to both.\n\n\" _Yes!\" they both burst together in a kind of hushed shout, \"What are we going to do?\"_\n\n\" _There is a train that we are planning to derail. It is a military supply train.\"_\n\n\" _That sounds futile,\" Andrew stated bluntly, \"The military have plenty of supplies.\"_\n\n\" _Yes, but we don't.\" Paul explained._\n\nWithout access to explosives, derailing the trail would be a hit and miss affair. They had already found the right spot however, a section of track that intersects the two Precincts that was uninhabited grassland, with some small section of forest for cover. With some luck, there would be a boulder or some kind of obstruction they could use for the derailment. Under cover of darkness, the group needed to make their way there but were not inclined to take one of their own vehicles, firstly because it was too small and secondly due to the risk of detection.\n\nDavid and George were assigned to commandeer an appropriate vehicle. After walking a few blocks away from their respective houses, they waited patiently for an ambush opportunity. David had his trusty knife and George was armed with a crowbar. They watched taxis buzz past intermittently but after several hours they heard the distinctive sound of what could only be a truck.\n\nGeorge hastily rushed from their position towards the road and began to lie down, feigning unconsciousness. As the truck emerged from the crest of the hill it hit the brakes, screeching to a halt. The driver emerged from the cabin and started stepping towards the stricken man he could see on the road, his outline a blurry contrast against the headlights and the mist.\n\nAs he bent over to inspect he received a swift blow to the head with a small rock, rendered by David, and with a small gasp he then passed out. The body of the unfortunate truck driver was then dragged and placed on the side of the road. They made their way back to the house to retrieve the others. Their first objective had been accomplished.\n\nMoments later they were all making their way to the paddock. As they arrived at the location, George quickly gets out and David is given the wheel – he would be in charge of hiding the truck somehow, ensuring that the robbery and the action they were about to embark upon couldn't be linked by the authorities. Later he should arrive to retrieve his friends and whatever bounty they had managed to procure.\n\nSix figures rushed through the pitch darkness across the field and towards the forest which due to some immense luck was then adjacent to the railroad tracks. They had needed to wait for hours for the train. George had spent the previous night studying the position of the moon and was sure he could now approximate the 4am by which the trail was anticipated to be passing by. Meanwhile Andrew and Joanna were sent to scout for an appropriate boulder to carry onto the track – large enough for a derailment but small enough that 6 men could carry it without too much difficulty.\n\nThey waited in the silence. After a few moments, Joanna returns and motions towards a direction.\n\n\" _There's a good one there.\" she whispers._\n\nThey all scurried towards Andrew and proceeded to pick up the boulder with some difficulty. With muffled grunts they carried it slowly towards the edge of the forest section, about 5 meters from the track.\n\n\" _Let's put it on now,\" Andrew implored._\n\n\" _How fast do you think you can carry this thing? The train will stop if it sees the boulder,\" reminds George, \"we've got to put it on just in time.\"_\n\n\" _And alert all the guards on the train? Its suicide!\" snaps Tom._\n\nTo this, Joanna proceeds to take off her coat. It is navy blue and specifically chosen to blend in with the night. \"Look, this will cover the front section of that boulder since it's longer than it is high...hopefully it might just look like an abandoned coat.\"\n\nClearly this was the best plan on offer. After moving the boulder to its appropriate position on the track, dressed in a navy blue overcoat they scurried back to their hiding place. Andrew cuddled Joanna who was now shivering against the night air.\n\nMore hours passed.\n\nFinally, the train's approach could be heard. All members of the group waited with anticipation as the single glaring beam got closer. It rushed past and with a massive clap and a spray of sparks the boulder was decimated - but not before causing the engine to tilt and wobble dramatically, emitting the sound of flexing metal all across the paddock. A wheel came loose and the carriage jack-knifed across the tracks, the drag of which caused the engine to finally come free from the tracks several dozen meters later and begin to slide down the embankment.\n\nThe dust cleared to depict the train engine now stranded on an embankment. While most of the carriages remained largely intact there was one carriage that had split open – enough to facilitate entry without opening the locked doors. It was clear then that this carriage would be their only viable target for theft. It was almost certain that there would be guards on the train and although they were likely to be injured by the collision it would not be long until some armed opponent would be inspecting the scene.\n\nThey rush for the cabin and hurl themselves inside.\n\nMachine Guns! Grenades!\n\n\" _Everybody take a machine gun!\" George instructed._\n\nAndrew was about to grab his gun when he noticed something else. It was a large rectangular case which had caught his eye due to its shiny metallic color that gleamed in the moonlight. He picked up the case.\n\n\" _What are you doing? Take a fucking gun!\" George snapped – but they then hear some noises coming from the front of the train. \"Let's get out of here!\"_\n\nThey sprint back to a hiding place in the forest and take a defensive position barricaded behind a fallen log. The next stage would be to pass undetected back to the road and wait for David to return.\n\n\" _I'm in trouble!\" gasped Sam after the sprint, \"I've done my ankle in.\"_\n\n\" _Shit! We've got to get out of here; David should be at the road doing laps by now!\" George growled._\n\n\" _Look, I can crawl but I can't run. I know we can't wait that long, just leave me with my gun and we'll see what happens.\"_\n\nThey all agree they need to make a run for it immediately. After a hug and a slap on the back, Sam is left behind to crawl slowly towards the road while the rest of the group bounded through the grasslands, weapons in hand.\n\nThey collapse at the edge of the grasslands exhausted. The familiar grumble of David's stolen truck could then be heard in the distance.\n\nThey had made it.\n\nBack in George's basement the group, minus David who was now disposing of the truck, inspects their loot. 5 machine guns, 2 grenades – and that 'stupid' case. Andrew had not been able to overcome his fascination with it and the group all looked at him in disgust over this lack of discipline.\n\nAndrew was ashamed.\n\n\" _Let's at least see what's inside it!\" Joanna chirped cheerfully to break the mood._\n\nGeorge produced his crowbar and began to pry open the case. As they opened it they were presented with two spherical metallic balls.\n\n\" _What the hell is that?\"_\n\n\" _Look there's a manual.\"_\n\nSuicide Bomber Kit SBK-801.\n\n\" _We need to look at this later. We should check the news on the radio to see what the authorities have discovered,\" George stated somberly, \"Sorry Andrew and Joanna, we'll be going upstairs now. Maybe we will find out what happened to poor Sam.\"_\n\nIn the study room the remaining men listen to the radio.\n\n\" _...The news reports that in Precinct 6, a man in a stolen taxi car with a machine gun has been going on a rampage. Several officials have been killed during the spree until the offender was eventually killed early this morning. This action seems to be related to a terrorist action against a military supply train which also happened last night and believed to be the source of the weapon.\"_\n\nThe husky voice of the chief of police followed:\n\n\" _This is indeed the work of our great enemy – Blaspemoth! We all knew it would only be a matter of time, until their warped ideas started seducing our own people and bringing forth actions such as this one. In response to this outrage we are conducting a complete audit on Precinct 6! All citizens will be rounded up and interrogated, their premises searched... \"_\n\n\" _Ha!\" boomed Tom, \"Did you hear that – Precinct 6, we are in Precinct 7! That Sam was a clever bugger!\"_\n\n\" _True,\" replies George grimly, \"but we have signed the death warrant of any alcohol maker in Precinct 6. We're going to have to lay low for a long time after this one.\"_\n\nCHAPTER 8 – COMBAT\n\n\"Welcome!\" booms the instructor. \"I am flight lieutenant Yaver. I see that many of you here today are new, which is not surprising since that party season has ended!\"\n\nYaver continues -\n\n\"It has been designated that you will all be serving on fighter squadron G14. Now, I don't know how much money you'd all have left after the party season, but if you are indeed capable of producing the funds, I remind all the new members that the engineering department will be open from 9am to12am and taking orders for any modification you wish to make on your stock standard X-11 fighters. If, however, you are unable to avail yourselves of this, don't be too sad – the X11 fighters have actually been designed to maximum efficiency in their standard form the government. Obviously, these base models are provided free of charge – otherwise we would not have an air force to fight with!\"\n\n\"Why would we want to modify a design that is already perfect?\" asks Pliss.\n\n\"An excellent question, recruit! There are only three sane reasons to modify the standard X11 – Deception, Intimidation and because it's Cool! Deception is a great theme in Evolution. From the Plant and Animal kingdom, deception can be seen all around us. From a military perceptive, I will give an example from my own record. My X11, dear fellow is equipped with the RJ-46 assault cannon as opposed to an RJ-45. It is lighter but has a tad more range than the 45...\"\n\n\"That sounds like an advantage!\" exclaims Pliss, wondering if he should install his own 46.\n\n\"That is not the advantage young friend. Like I stated if you were listening, the fighters are already designed for peak effectiveness and the RJ-46 does not do as much damage as a 45.\"\n\nLoving to trumpet his own innovation, Yaver pauses to construct a grin.\n\n\"What I often do, is fly 2% slower than I could possibly fly intentionally when approaching the enemy. You see, this matches the top speed of a fighter equipped with an RJ-45. Many enemy pilots are not keen to do a lengthy ordnance scan on every approaching fighter, simply because it is much faster to scan the first fighter in a formation – or scan one at random if they are slightly more clever. This gives me a 100m range advantage, which is approximately 5 seconds, in which to damage or destroy an approaching fighter, then quickly accelerate back to full throttle once the dogfight starts. Some pilots chose to take the alternative approach: intimidation. They will pack as many heavy guns as they can, within reason, onto their vehicles. Some install arbitrary devices that protrude a guttural sound, which, although giving away the position slightly, has been formulated to stimulate primal intimidation in the enemy fighters. You see, friends, the military is an art as well as a science!\"\n\nEverybody nodded that this was impressive. Pliss decided that he needed the guttural sound but preferred the normal weapons. He had also decided on some colors, and a large logo saying \"Alcohol is great!\" across the front section of his vehicle.\n\nDuring an intermission, the crew hastily compares notes on what they reasoned would be the best designs for their respective aircraft, knowing obviously that deviating too much was suicidal, since the government had already determined peak efficiency.\n\n\"Alcohol is great!\" blurts Pliss, during a lull in the conversation.\n\nEveryone laughs. \"That's going to be written on my front section,\" he explains.\n\n\"Do you like alcohol?\" asks a bewildered female recruit next to him. She knew there should be a good answer, but the curiosity was killing her. Also, there was a possibility that he was a reformed prisoner. She had heard from his sister in the prison precinct that they would assist the captured soldiers by offering them wine and champagne – since the grape had been extinct from the Realm for hundreds of years - just to show them the diversity of nature and the beauty of their civilization in preserving it.\n\n\"What do I look like, a cave man?\" he quipped. \"Alcohol is illegal in those fascist places we are attacking, but some people still make it. It is one of the few drugs that their rudimentary society is capable of producing!\"\n\n\"Now that's fucking with their heads!!\" she said devilishly.\n\n\"It makes sense...\" interrupted another recruit, \"their sermons make me nauseous so it follows to reason that they should consume a drug that produces that same effect!\"\n\n\"Speaking of retro,\" continued the young lady, \"do you like my tongue piercing?\"\n\nShe extended her tongue as far as it could go and danced it around provocatively.\n\n\"Yeah, I don't mind a bit of retro...\" Pliss replies slyly.\n\nPliss is distracted about the piercing intermittently for the most of the briefing. He likes this girl. Maybe, he thinks, he should pierce his ears! Hell no, how conformist, that would surely turn her off! There's nothing worse than a \"follower\" for making friends or even worse, lovers.\n\nDesperate for some creativity, he decides for a quick one at the bar. Upon arriving there, he is shocked to see that Pleasurin-12 is at full price. Immediately his thoughts turned to hatred for the incumbent government. \"Reducing the subsidy perhaps, but removing it entirely!\" he thinks.\n\nSeeing his mortified expression, the bartender smiles. Pliss knows that he is now mistaken somehow, since a bartender would never smile at such a concept. Now, like the girl, he is overcome by suspense.\n\n\"You sick bastard!\" he says, doing his best impression of being serious.\n\n\"Don't take it then. You're going on a mission tonight, what do you need to feel love for? Your enemy?\" he chuckles.\n\nHe points to a different dispenser. \"That's free.\"\n\nSharp. Supply and demand has made it expensive on the outside, since it is not subsidized. He immediately knew the implication. \"Strong,\" he says.\n\n\"Certainly not my dear friend. Our records indicate that you have an unfortunate sensitivity to the stuff.\"\n\nPliss feels ashamed. Now, if that was a joke... well, he'd have to think of some kind of insult in return.\n\n\"He's serious\" says the recruit behind him. \"We've all seen your medical files. We wanted to know if you really did like alcohol.\" It was the other recruit that was making a pass at the tongue piercing girl.\n\n\"Your heart will explode on strong. I mean that literally.\"\n\nThe bartender set it for weak and Pliss inhaled... the bitter substance burning as it made its way down his esophagus. \"Just remember to stay calm!\" taunted the other recruit.\n\nHe managed to resist the shakes while at the base, but now that he was in the air in the privacy of the cabin he decided to release himself. His hand were sweating and trembling. The on-board clock seemed to be malfunctioning - ticking over way too fast, however as soon as he put his attention on it the clock started to slow to a crawl. He now understood the advantage. But counterproductive to this was his racing and erratic mind. Additionally, he thinks - \"This is not pleasant!\" He starts mentally revising calculus, then the karma sutra. He realizes that he can not keep his mind on one thing. He starts obsessing about his weapons configuration. Single fire. Dual fire. Single fire. Which is better?\n\nImpulsively, he turns on his guttural emitters, although he is immediately snapped back by the thought of why he had done this arbitrarily.\n\nThe voice in his head started to chant, trailing off in waves:\n\n\" _FUNN FUNN FUNNNNNNN......\"_\n\nYou are here to work, idiot! Or die!\n\nHis inner voice is soon interrupted by a wonderful sight. Out of the corner of his eye, he catches the three distinctive dots indicating enemy fighters nearby. Three of them. It was a clear dry day and on further inspection they were indeed there.\n\n\" _FUNN FUNN FUNNNNNNN......\"_\n\nHis head voice changed to a higher pitch, instigated by the acceleration of his heart. Now he was glad that the gutturals had been activated.\n\nThe enemies must now know he was there too. They are now probably laughing at him for turning on his gutturals in defiance of their superior numbers. This was to be a routine reconnaissance mission but is now turning out to be far greater. What if he dies after stacking his chips so high?\n\n\" _SSSSHHHHAAAAAAAAAAMMMEE!\"_ screams his internal voice.\n\n\"No\" he thinks - \"No shame. Concentrate. Use what you have learnt, slow down the clock.\"\n\nHe now stared at the clock and as anticipated it started to slow. \"Now, just secretly: What is the best thing to do?\"\n\n\"The enemy fighters are approaching fast. Or is it slowly? But in reality, they are fast, only your perceptions are distorted. Three to one. Three to one. My odds of survival are... bastard, co-operate, what an irrelevant thing to think!\"\n\nLuckily there was still time to formulate a plan and it came to him in a snap. Now, to simply execute it.\n\nHe armed his missiles on single fire, multiple targets. His enemies would know this. Obviously, they would be concentrating all their weaponry on him. They approached head on...90kms, then 80. As the indicator came close to the missile range he willed time to slow down once more. At the first hint of the on-board computers indication of a missile lock, he suddenly changes this configuration: Dual fire, Single target!\n\nHis own missile lock had already been achieved and since multiple target mode changed to single target mode without any time delay he already had his target in scope. He let out barrage after barrage and watched the enemy missiles come in slowly while his own missiles were zooming ahead at breakneck speed.\n\n\"Bollocks! Their missiles are traveling at the same speed respectively – it's just my subjective perceptions was making me the master of time. Master of time?\"\n\nHe pulled up and into a spiral before the first of the enemy missiles could reach him. The single enemy he had targeted proceeding to do the same, but in the downward direction. Now it was two to one, for the time being, as the dogfight would commence. Provided he manages to evade the three missiles sent against him, and his single target managed not to evade the four he just sent his or her way. As predicted, his enemy had been conservative with their ordinance, most likely saving them for some potential future encounter; by liberty of their greater numbers.\n\nHe danced around the sky with extreme randomness.\n\n\"How can optimal randomness be achieved?\" he thought, \"Too late to think about that!\" – Although he already knew the answer – that thinking about it would achieve the diametrically opposite result.\n\nCannon blasts are now being heard behind him, and more potential missile locks from his enemy were a distinct possibility.\n\nDance, just keep dancing.\n\n\"They think I'll get tired! I'll NEVER get tired! You'll run out of fuel first, you cunts!\"\n\nThe cabin shuddered as he took a direct hit with a cannon. A missile whizzed past at this same moment but thankfully missed. Only some slight damage, but nothing structural, nothing that would affect performance.\n\n\"Target two destroyed!\" advises his computer. His original barrage of missiles had done its job. Two against one - and now only thirty seconds before those enemy missile run out of steam.\n\nWith ten seconds left the first of his missile pursuers drop from the sky. The duration of a missile run could in no way be accurately predicted, due to the chaotic nature of their maneuvers in pursuit. Soon the other one dropped. The final missile was out wide making and arc to re-attempt a hit, and he knew that it was too far away to destroy him before it ran out of fuel.\n\nWith a jolt of inspiration, he hit the 'brakes'. Full reverse acceleration. The fighters on his tail instinctively moved out of the way and zoomed past, anxious to avoid a dual suicide and collision under these circumstances.\n\nNow slightly ahead of him two enemy fighters are banking around. Full reverse throttle started to kick in. He again considered his situation.\n\nThe X-11 fighters, just like the enemies, could go just as quickly in reverse as it could forward (without obviously the advantage of afterburners.) His enemies were now facing him, attempting to make missile locks. It was an eventuality, since they were at a standstill relative to each other. Could he try the same trick again? No, he only had two missiles left – and the enemy as noted had conserved its ordinance. But his enemies, although facing forward were not using the afterburners since they were too close for comfort, almost within auto cannon range, and wouldn't want to overshoot their target as such.\n\nNow Pliss sent forth his final missiles, dual fire – multiple targets. Subsequently, both enemy fighters would need to evade.\n\nThe enemies, learning from his previous barrage proceeded to send forth a barrage of their own. Pliss pulled up and twisted – flying in reverse. He thought that only by virtue of them being so close did the enemy fail to empty their tanks. In fact, both enemies respectively managed to get only one salvo in although it was both dual fire, so there were 4 missiles pursuing in total.\n\nPliss is still in full reverse, but despite this awkward situation it produced one strange advantage.\n\n  1. The X-11 cannons were mounted towards the front.\n\n  2. The missiles were approaching from the front, and due to his reverse orientation relative to their speed, they were coming in slowly relative to his position.\n\nBy contrast, his own missiles had been going towards their targets with their targets heading towards them (the regular situation).\n\nWhile his enemy danced, he decides upon yet another ploy. Taking liberty of the time advantage before impact he eased off evasive maneuvers and begins flying straight, though still in reverse and at an angle, towards the Sun. The missiles behaved predictably, following the most efficient trajectory toward their target – now a straight line. With a burst of cannons, he destroys two of the missiles, the closer set of the group as they converged near his craft. It was in fact the resulting explosion from the first that managed to destroy the secondary missile of that set.\n\nNow, with 2 missiles still on his tail, or rather \"head\" as the case may be, he now commenced evasive maneuvers. The two remaining missiles were better odds than what he had faced previously and he played until he evaded them.\n\nAs they ran out of fuel - and to his shock - he saw that both enemies had left the scene, obviously having used their afterburners to fly out of the range of detection.\n\nHe had killed one of them. He was still alive. Furthermore, he had done half the job flying backwards, a task that would disorientate most pilots. He picks up the communicator and advises command that he was heading back for resupply, and that the enemy was present in in the sector.\n\nOn the flight back he laughed at the cowardice of the enemy fighters. They still had missiles left and were seemingly undamaged and yet they ran away...\n\n\"No, not cowardice. They were needed somewhere,\" he concludes in a moment of clarity.\n\nCHAPTER 9 - STIKE FORCE CHASTITY\n\nSeveral hours before the flight of QF-204...\n\n\" _Our hackers were successful. They said the passenger manifest system of QF-204's airline company was remarkably easy to crack into. That's what you get for an automated inventory systems and lax airport security.\"_\n\nHigh priest Phillips brimmed with pride. \"Thank you!\"\n\nHe could now ready Chastity for the intercept mission. To add to his good mood, the new rocket packs were ready – that meant that Chastity could be deployed from an even greater altitude, making their entry into the airbus much less likely to be suspected.\n\nChastity has already been briefed about the schematics of the airbus. The key to it all was the fact that the rear doors were always out of view. Neither the pilot nor the passengers would be able to see the entry of Chastity.\n\nThe hackers had been of extreme usefulness for a second reason – to allow QF-204's external doors to be opened stealthily whilst in the air. The time delayed stealth virus had already made its way through into QF-204's computer systems and would erase itself completely once the doors had been resealed with Chastity inside. Once inside, they would not be questioned. While the suicide bombers posed more of a detection risk – not trained in the correct behaviors of Civlarian society and quite easily noticed if they were foolish enough to open their mouths in the wrong way, this should not be true of the Special Forces team known as Chastity.\n\nCHAPTER 10 - DUE PROCESS\n\nJudy had come off QF-204 with a healthy sense of indignation and curiosity. This was indeed one of the strangest scenarios she had heard of in a long time and perhaps her career. It was so sensitive as it were that she had taken the extraordinary measure of taking this particular job away from one of her subordinate officers when she had realized the gravity of it. For a human rights lawyer there was little more disturbing than the set of circumstances received by their computer systems a couple of days ago.\n\nPrison 1.\n\nShe entered the establishment by the usual channels and proceeded straight to the administration area. She had not been in Prison 1 before, but since the schematics for all the prison buildings were fairly identical she is overwhelmed by a _deja-vu_ as she enters. Often, she thinks, this feeling was a harbinger of events; either good or bad.\n\n\"I am here to see PF-903, the captured technician,\" Judy said sternly at the receptionist and guard.\n\n\"I believe she is being questioned,\" is the casual reply from the guard.\n\n\"Look, I'll be blunt. This situation seems slightly unusual to me,\" Judy presses, emphasizing the un-usu-al with a long drawl, \"Firstly, she was the only survivor of a military transport vessel. What happened to the pilots and crew?\"\n\n\"Contamination,\" 'confirms' the guard looking fictitiously at his screen.\n\nThe lawyer smiles. As if the situation as it were was not contradictory enough. She waits for a while to see if the guard is cogent enough to infer the fairly obvious question that she is now about to render, but upon a stunned silence, she continues the interrogation.\n\n\"And why was she not also contaminated?\" Judy sighs.\n\n\"The vessel in question had dual cabins – it is a new prototype. Unfortunately, our salvage crews were unable to recover the vessel since it was so deep in enemy territory. But we have the schematics from our scans...\"\n\nThey both knew that schematics could be fabricated but there is no way to prove it conclusively.\n\nShe decides to \"accept\" this notion of a new prototype since it was far, in her opinion, from the only thing curious about this case.\n\n\"My second problem, guard, is the manner in which her classification had been changed from civilian, standard technician if I am not mistaken, to a secret services agent. Our records show that the change in classification had not occurred until she was placed in this facility. Under what pretext was this change made?\"\n\n\"She had a tracking implant in her brain. We would not have known about it apart from the fact that she had sustained a concussion during impact and our doctors decided to give her a complete scan. This was enough ground to suspect her involvement in a deeper conspiracy.\"\n\nThis guard was doing fairly well under adverse conditions and Judy suspected that he had already been groomed to provide these answers.\n\n\"That might be acceptable, but her vessel is described as having ambiguously 'gone down' well into enemy territory – it was in fact within the path of known civilian routes used by the enemy's airliners. Yet, it was our rescue crews that performed the supposed rescue – not theirs? Doesn't that strike you as slightly odd?\"\n\nJudy braced herself for another formulated answer.\n\n\"The vessel, being a prototype, suffered an engine malfunction. Our rescue crews were actually there to retrieve a fallen bomber pilot that had crashed nearby, but found this stricken vessel along the way and decided to rescue the survivors - additionally to the bomber pilot - for humanitarian reasons. It was not considered an option to leave the vessel to be rescued by the enemy due to an engine leak that could have caused an explosion. The rescue team has been recommended for a humanitarian award.\"\n\n\"Granted – the tracking implant is grounds to suspect she was involved in some kind of covert operations – but clearly no such operations were being performed at the time. The glaring contradiction here is that she been taken to the prison district for processing – despite being a civilian that was \"rescued\" for humanitarian reasons. They could not have known about the implant until after she had been admitted to prison,\" Judy presses.\n\nThe guard smiles. He knew that this \"glaring contradiction\" had already been taken care of.\n\n\"The reason she has been sent here, is because she has been charged with assault. She attacked a member of the rescue crew with a knife. The medical reports are available, along with a full statement from the crew member.\"\n\n\"And the video?\"\n\n\"It happened on the enemy vessel, there is no video.\"\n\nJudy knew that all this was a house of cards – but as yet there is no way to prove it. Such a scenario seems exceedingly unlikely but this, from a legal standpoint, was certainly not enough. In any case she was sure that some face to face communication with the prisoner herself would clear up some of this situation. She also realized that this was now very much in legally ambiguous territory - whereas the guidelines for assault are well known, the alleged incident happened outside of Civlarian territory – it was a rare case, purportedly, of a civilian attacking another civilian in enemy territory. Further from rare: this would be a precedent.\n\nWas she subject to the laws of the enemy, their laws or no laws at all?\n\nIn fact, there were only two laws common to both civilizations by accord:\n\n  1. It was forbidden to develop DNA altering virii and,\n\n  2. It was forbidden to develop nano-machines.\n\nThis accord was largely symbolic in nature – since there was no way of enforcing it against an segregated enemy respectively. Also, it was considered that it would only be the respective enemies that would suffer from such an act of lunacy, since obviously it would be developed inside one of their own territories and they would be the first to get impacted by a break out.\n\nJudy considers her position.\n\nIf it wasn't for the tracking implant, she could and would be tried immediately for the assault – with a 100% chance of acquittal due to ambiguity and jurisdiction issues - but that \"accidental discovery\" might be enough to begin processing her as a POW. Not just a POW – but one designated as an enemy agent.\n\nAnd, they would be allowed to use a negotiator.\n\nAdditionally, since questioning without duress was a time consuming exercise, the military now had a lot of room to move.\n\n\"I want to see her, as is my right and role,\" Judy states.\n\nThe guard handed her the dreaded piece of paper which Judy examines for some short time.\n\n\"This is a completely frivolous application of an Exclusive Interaction Order. The opposition will be notified about this along with the media!\" she bursts in outrage.\n\n\"That is your right.\" advises the guard calmly.\n\nCHAPTER 11 - STRIKE FORCE CHASTITY PART II\n\n\"No contaminants detected\" announces the pilot. The turrets respectfully lower and the internal doors begin to open.\n\nPeta and her crew knew that the worst was yet to come. They had entered the aircraft undetected with their high altitude intrusion into QF-204, successfully bypassing any contamination. She fumbled with her horned helmet that felt extremely out of place against her usual style and hoped now that she could blend in to this strange culture.\n\nPeta was a new recruit and this was her first operation. Indeed her processing through the Secret Services Bureau seemed to have been streamlined somehow from above – even to the point of being hasty at points. Although it was true that she had a high aptitude in her field, she didn't quite grasp the ramifications of the previous week's efforts.\n\nThe group of five officers casually made their way through the airport, making note of any potential trouble. There was a small assembly of police officers or military men talking with a receptionist – apparent only by virtue of the fact that they carried firearms.\n\nThey pass by without any interference.\n\nWithout notice an unidentified man starts to walk towards them, waving an arm and smiling.\n\n\"Peta?\" asks a man running toward her.\n\n\"Yes,\" she answers.\n\n\"I'm you're driver, I've been assigned to take you to your hotel.\"\n\n\"Driver?\" she asks. She had been trained to expect robot drivers since it was well known that decedent Civlarians were loath to perform any manual task.\n\n\"You didn't know? Your company has paid for deluxe service. That means no robot driver – I'll show you around personally,\" the man grins, \"My name is Plymothe.\"\n\n\"Awesome!\" replies Peta. \"Thank Aesuth!\" she thought. The driver would indeed be of assistance to get their bearings.\n\nSoon they are on the road. The business district was not what the group had expected, but they all knew not to attract attention by asking foolish questions. Yet, the disgusting opulence and excesses of Civlarian society is still quite apparent although seemingly exaggerated.\n\n\"You don't talk much,\" laughs the driver, trailing off from some long winded anecdote about the various places of historical significance they were passing by. He was mainly on about historical courthouses, legal precedents and the evolution of the legal system.\n\n\"What about business?\"\n\n\"Not much business here, it's mainly run by the government. I'm afraid if you're after shopping we can't provide you with much!\" Plymothe apologizes.\n\nSomething was not right.\n\nAs they approach a large building, they saw the sign at the entrance.\n\nPrison six.\n\nIt was immediately followed by prisons five and four. For a commercial capital of Civlar it appeared that there were indeed a lot of prisons. Had they been detected?\n\n\"Do you have the heroin?\" Michel whispers to Peta. Michael was a veteran agent and knew when a situation seemed too strange to deal with. Indeed it was only Michael that outranked Peta on this particular mission – despite most of the others having 10 years of experience additional to hers.\n\n\"No,\" Peta said in a hushed voice, \"I had to use it on a passenger. She asked me something I didn't know how to answer.\"\n\nMomentarily however, they pull up at their hotel. The sign at the front proclaimed \"Actual Hotel\".\n\nNoting that the driver had an interest in the history of buildings, one of the group asks - \"Why is it called 'Actual Hotel'?\"\n\n\"Well, it's a play on words obviously!\" the driver gleams.\n\nHe presumes that his customers were quite tired after their flight.\n\n\"Ah, I get it!\" Michael booms as the group breaks out into labored laughter. So far, this mission had become far stranger than any of them had anticipated.\n\nThe group now sits in uneasy silence inside their hotel suite. They now feel that something did not add up about the situation but were not keen to speculate with each other at this point.\n\nMichael turns on the television. They knew that the Civlarian government monitored the viewing habits of all the citizens. Or at least they had been told. Despite the risk, they are keen to glean more information about their new location – provided there was any channel in Civlar that was not dedicated solely to hardcore pornography.\n\nMichael flips through the channels: 1, 2, 3...\n\n\"Stop!\" cries Peta, \"It will seem indecisive!\"\n\n\"No, Civlarians are fickle – they only have a very short attention span,\" Michael reminds.\n\nThey proceed through the channels, initially committing to memory the supposed content of each channel - but soon found this as a futile activity since there are too many channels to process in this manner. Soon they are switching changing channels 10 at a time...\n\nAs they hit channel 120 and they are stunned indeed by what they see: It is a Sermon from the Grand High Priest of the Realm.\n\n\"...you may wonder, and rightfully so, why it is that the Civlarians do not acquire the AIDS affliction as readily as the people here in the Holy Realm. They are indeed imbued with the very essence of Sin. Premarital sex is not only allowed in Civlar, but often forced, on the children especially. While their population does indeed dwindle with a range of diseases, the answer to this vexing question is clear in the scriptures:\"\n\n\"A child can only be punished so much until he is thrown out of his home!\"\n\n\"Yes, dear faithful, it is indeed true that Aesuth has turned his back on Civlar. So much disdain does He have for this Blaspemoth that he renders them neither punishment nor grace – they are left alone to their own devices like a wayward child that falls into the hands of a pimp....\"\n\n\"Consider another question. Why is it that a dog does not get AIDS? Any 5 year old child will know that answer – because they are animals.\"\n\nSuddenly, the television screen changes, prompting a jolted reaction for the team. The computerized prompt advises them that their company has sent them an urgent communiqué. Also that their program has been automatically time-shifted and will not be missed.\n\n\"Store or play now?\"\n\n\"Play now!\" snaps Michael.\n\n\"Heeeeeeeeey! How's it going! I am the CEO of Mainframes Unlimited – NO SHIT! - And I've got an urgent message for you. Check out that freaky religious channel, 120 at 5:30pm. You have gotta see the quote man, you'll piss yourself!!! See-ya!\"\n\nIt's was almost 5:30pm now. The message has been clear and although they did not know how to turn off the time-shifting on the television they should be safe considering the brevity of the message from their \"CEO\".\n\nPeta takes out from her bag a small camera and fixed it at the television. Then she uses the earphones socket and applied the headphones so that it will not make any noise. As expected a new program came on. It was another sermon, on the importance of Chastity.\n\nAs expected, here was that line – a single glitch in the high definition transmissions across the bottom section of the screen. It was so thin that they needed to squint their eyes to see it – but it was there. The camera started decoding the encoded message that it was now viewing.\n\nThe group continues to laugh randomly at the program, unsure about which parts were actually funny and still yet suspicious that they are being watched.\n\n\"What do you make of it? Funny right?\" asks Michael of Peta in fabricated amusement.\n\n\"Relax, we're not being watched. I just heard our real mission. Aesuth has truly blessed us, for tonight we shall be performing an act of mercy. This is a prison colony not the business district. We have been sent to rescue a prisoner. Not just any prisoner either – she is the Chosen One. Through her Enlightenment, she has become a weapon of unimaginable power....\"\n\nShe lays out the instructions to her crew members:\n\n  1. Enter prison 1 in the guise of mainframe technicians.\n\n  2. Scan the prison manifest and liberate Eva.\n\n  3. Smuggle her out of the prison and back to the airport.\n\n  4. Board QF-205 to the Holiday Zone. Once in the air, there will be three holy fighters waiting in ambush. QF-205 will be forced to comply and will make its way back to the Realm.\n\n\"How will we smuggle Eva back?\" Michael inquires.\n\n\"I am her doppelganger,\" replies Peta proudly, \"We are almost exactly identical in appearance. I will stay behind as a POW.\"\n\n\"I am sorry...\" Michael begins.\n\n\"Not really. Previously to rescuing Eva you will have access to the prison computers. Just make sure you get me the override code for the prison doors – I will make use of them at the most opportunistic time,\" Peta grins.\n\nThis is a small deviation from the plan but one which she was sure would not hurt the objectives of the mission.\n\nCHAPTER 12 - STIKE FORCE CHASTITY PART III\n\nAs day breaks the Strike Force prepares for the assault on prison 1.\n\nTaking the hotel's automated limousine service they soon find themselves at the gates of their destination. Apart from a few formalities at the gate they are in within minutes and make their way to the reception desk. They announce their purpose and are given instructions about how to reach the server room.\n\nThe server room was located at the top floor of the complex in the restricted area – for which they are supplied a temporary pass-code. Since they have arrived so early it is almost deserted apart from a single technician ambitiously hammering away at some assignment.\n\nNow they started to perform the 'work' on the servers; presumably a simple case of replacing a modularized component and reconfiguring the systems to accept the new hardware. Under normal circumstances this job would take approximately half an hour but they are keen to draw it out for as long as possible.\n\nPeta decides to take the initiative and approaches the lone technician which is not in their group.\n\n\"Hi, how's it going?\" she asks casually.\n\n\"Not bad, just really busy,\" replies the technician, \"since the servers have been down I am unable to work remotely as per normal so here I am.\"\n\nThey exchange some small talk for a few minutes.\n\n\"I've only been here a day. Where's the nearest bar around here, I'd really like to get some Pleasurin-12!\" Peta smiles.\n\n\"There's one down the road – let's go!\"\n\nIn the meantime the four other crew members were slowly doing their jobs and also speaking of generic pleasantries to pass the time between themselves.\n\n\"Hmm, we should definitely do that after work I think. At the moment I'm kind of sleepy – could you get us some coffee?\" Peta asks.\n\nThe technician obliges.\n\nWithin moments of leaving the room, Michael is already inside the prisons manifest systems and trying to locate Eva. It wasn't long until he found the location: Sub Level 3, Cell 35. Without hesitation he penetrates the security system and manages to ascertain the security codes for that level which he scrawls down quickly and hands to Peta.\n\nThey were all gone before the lone technician could return with the coffee.\n\nThe first port of call was to be a supply depot which offered no complications thanks to Michael's quickly memorized access codes. In there they found themselves a cache of machine guns. Taking the guns they make their way swiftly to the elevator and then engage the lift to SL-3. They are quite thankful that there are no real uniforms in Civlar – since their guns alone designated them as guards now in the eyes of others. Still, they are all ready for combat at any time and they knew they must be fast about it – although the guards should not generally be trained to a high level of combat proficiency, they are certainly highly outnumbered and a coordinated attack would certainly destroy their ambitious plans.\n\nAs they emerged into SL-3 they see a sight that would confirm their deepest fears about Civlar.\n\nThey pass through rows of closed doors – all locked as indicated by the red light above the handle. They hear muffled shouting and screaming and various words of abuse.\n\nAs the reach Eva's cell they used their access codes once again but to no avail – as the cell is found now empty.\n\n\"She's not here. What are we going to do?\" Peta asks.\n\n\"Let's go back to the computers....\" another suggests respectfully.\n\n\"Why? If the data was inaccurate the first time, why would anything change? We're running out of time!\" Michael snaps.\n\nThey knew that they needed to act while surprise was on their side. Momentarily, they hear the steps of a single guard walking down the hall. As this guard walks past Eva's supposed cell he finds himself quickly accosted and dragged in.\n\nIn a barrage of kicking and punching the guard is rendered harmless and lying bloodied in the corner.\n\n\"Where is Eva?\" demands Michael with his machine gun rammed down the guards throat. He pulles out the nozzle and awaits the reply.\n\nThe guard coughs and spurts that he does not know. They realize that they would need to ambush a higher ranking officer – but how would they determine who here had rank? With swift martial arts kick to the face from Peta the guard is quickly killed.\n\nAfter some deliberation they realize that the computer systems are indeed be their only hope.\n\nThey made their way to the SL3 control station. As they arrive they release a barrage of machine gun fire that catches the snoozing guards within by surprise. Only one guard survives long enough to set off the alarms. The atmosphere was now transformed into a tinged red and the wailing sirens pierced through the air.\n\nMichael again utilizes his skills with the computer systems, first turning off the alarm and then skim-reading through the personal notes and correspondences of the high ranking prison officials. They knew that even while the alarms were now off they had still now been most likely detected. It was only a matter of minutes before the guards would arrange an attack from the higher levels.\n\n\"Neural regeneration!?\" gasps Michael. He had found the item they were looking for. He orders the remaining team members to barricade themselves inside the guard room while Peta and himself go to investigate.\n\n\"Her transmitter was registering full health at the time of capture,\" Michael confides in Peta as they burst through the corridors towards the infirmary, \"something is definitely wrong here.\"\n\n\"Civlarian hypocrisy at its finest,\" Peta snorts...\n\nThe remaining team members now piled the corpses and chairs into a makeshift barricade and awaited the onslaught.\n\nPeta and Michael smash through the door using their machine guns against the locking mechanism. They had finally found Eva. She is strapped to a bed, sensory equipment and wires running chaotically towards a monitoring station. There had been an incision made in her head from which a small tube protruded. Her eyes are closed and she is motionless apart from shallow breathing.\n\nThey try to rouse her, the Chosen One, but to no avail. Peta has already started to take off her clothes for the swap over but then stopped when she realizes Eva's condition.\n\n\"We can't remove her like this.\" Michael asserts, \"That tube must be some kind of sedative.\"\n\nPeta was going to ask why it was being injected directly into the brain but decided not to because of the time constraints. As Michael removed the tube the grim situation suddenly began to reveal itself further.\n\nEva screamed into consciousness.\n\nAs she tries to free herself from the restraints, Michael and Peta try aimlessly to calm her down and explain the situation. Eventually, they move to remove the restraints, thinking that this was the cause of Eva's discomfort.\n\nWith superhuman strength Eva lunges for Michael weapon and despite a huge size disparity he finds himself almost unable to control her but finally manages to wrestle it out of her hand.\n\nHe then realizes that it was not them but herself that she was trying to kill since there had been several opportunities to shoot him while the item was in contention.\n\nEva continued to claw and grasp at Michael while Peta tries desperately to restrain her seemingly superhuman strength. After several minutes of this Eva collapses due to exhaustion, she being now fixed in the fetal position and murmuring incoherently.\n\nIt is now quite apparent to both of them that Eva has completely lost her mind.\n\nAs they heard the blaze of gunfire echoing from the control room, they knew there was no escape.\n\nThe only thing they could do now was report the situation to their government – if they were lucky.\n\nPeta calls the her fellow team member in the control room announcing the situation. They can only guess whether or not the control room had the facility to transmit a message somehow to the Realm or if indeed their team would remain alive long enough to perform this action.\n\nSoon the gunfire stopped.\n\nAs the guards entered the neural regeneration room the pair surrendered quickly.\n\nCHAPTER 13 - UPRISING IN THE REALM\n\nIn the present day, in the Realm, three years after the daring attack on the supply train...\n\n\"I'm back from the shops,\" Joanna announces as she walks through the living area to find George and Andrew sitting to a meal. Andrew stands up to kiss Joanna as she glides past. It had been like this for some time now – almost normal.\n\nThanks to some further chemical engineering on George's behalf, the two of them had both managed to change their appearance considerably.\n\nFirst and foremost was their new hair color, a dark brunette to match that of George. Andrew now donned his own mighty beard fashioned in the familiar miner's style. Small artificial freckles adorned Joanna's face. Her hair was made curly through another clever improvisation involving an iron. They were still quite an unconventional household by Precinct 7 standards, being three adult siblings living in the same house, but certainly not illegal. As long as they avoided trouble and stayed away from their old neighborhood they could now pass normally through society.\n\nThis arrangement had lasted for two and a half years. Joanna was described to less trusted friends as the \"homemaker\" of the family, and Andrew's apparent lack of employment was hidden on the pretext that he had sustained an injury which required him to hobble artificially when dealing with the public.\n\nGeorge had been careful to introduce the two gradually back into the real world – first announcing to his friends (that were outside of his own dissident subset, obviously) – that his supposed relatives were going to be arriving weeks before their actual \"appearance\".\n\nThey still had three main problems.\n\nFirstly was a lack of any supporting documentation, but this should not be an issue as long as they kept out of the attention of the authorities. Secondly was suppressing their natural affectionate instincts in public – as they were not in actuality and far from siblings. Joanna had the additional issue of having to bat away prospective suitors amongst George's male friends.\n\nRegardless, they were both extremely pleased that their lives were no longer that of virtual captivity.\n\nToday, Joanna was preparing the fish she had acquired for her consumption, since she was not fond of the lamb the men had prepared earlier. While she grated against the scales her hand suddenly slipped: the house was now vibrating against the deathly sound of the air-raid sirens.\n\nAndrew and George stopped eating and looked at each other with confusion.\n\n\"This must be a test,\" snorts Andrew starting again to resume his meal.\n\n\"You're right – the Civlarians are not interested in Precinct 7!\" George chuckles.\n\n\"Wait!\" Joanna cries - She could hear from the distance the faint sound of cannon fire and then an explosion which was most likely the demise of a fighter or bomber in midair.\n\nWith a clash of hastily discarded cutlery the three of them race to the front door.\n\nCivlar was indeed attacking – the swarm of aircraft in the distance now clearly visible as though there were birds fighting with each other. Fairly obvious too as there could never be any birds outside of the Dome.\n\nThe three of them are panting with excitement, their minds almost transmitting to each other the unspoken speculations that frantically processed within. If Civlar was attacking here then perhaps they had already won the war? If so, would their new occupiers have a greater regard for them than their current rulers? If not – then why would they select such a backwater target for what seemed quite obviously to be a fairly major attack.\n\nThe flurry of aircraft drifted closer.\n\n\"How many are there?\" Joanna gasped.\n\n\"I'd say there are 30 small ones – they could be fighters or bombers and five big ones.\" George exclaims with squinted eyes. Nobody around there has ever seen a \"big one\". Obviously something major was happening.\n\nThe people on the street were busy scampering into their houses, generally small brick structures that provided little protection from the powerful charges of the laser bombers. Indeed, it would surely be a quicker death the take a hit from a charge directly and be instantly incinerated than to be crushed by the burning rubble of such an abode. The group however had absolutely no intention of sitting this one out in the basement. They wanted to find out what this was about.\n\n\"We need to get the gang!\" George said. \"You two wait here while I bring them in – if I can find them.\"\n\nAlthough the Realm had a complete telecommunications system it was restricted only to calling the authorities. George ambitiously started his engine and set about trying to assemble his group.\n\nHe did the rounds and picks up David and Tom after driving hastily through the deserted streets.\n\nHe passes army vehicles but is not interrupted since it would seem normal to drive quickly under the pretext of getting back to one's own premises during an air raid. The entire trip takes only 15 minutes, especially assisted by the fact that both Tom and David are to be found directly on their respective front lawns gawking at the very same spectacle.\n\nAt the time he pulled into his driveway the air war was at their doorstep – the single turret built to protect Precinct 7 picking off Civlarian fighters as they engaged in frantic battle against the Realm's own. The larger ships could now be made out more clearly – they were some kind of mobile rearming station.\n\nBack in the basement the five of them, each with a machine gun strapped around their waist, frantically contemplate what actions they needed to take. They realize that they didn't really know what was happening and that the best thing they could do for the time being was to try and find out.\n\nAfter checking to see that the street was deserted from on looking neighbors they quickly pile into George's car, criss-crossing their guns across their laps to keep them under the view of other vehicles. They headed for where it seemed that most of the bombers appeared to be directed for – a vague inducement to drive towards the North.\n\nFive minutes into the journey the group felt the car begin to tremble underneath them. George erupts with a loud growl of terror and frustration. It is certainly not an auspicious time for his trusted vehicle to have some kind of mechanical failure. They learn quickly that it was no failure of the machine as the true source of the shaking reveals itself – three massive turrets to the West starting to slowly emerge from the mountain range.\n\nUnderground turrets?\n\nSuch a thing had never been heard of. The construction must have occurred in secret through the Dome's subterranean layer. With a thud they finished their extension and then proceeded to thrust burst after burst of heavy laser rounds at an oncoming Civlarian re-supply platform in the distance.\n\nThe resulting explosion filled the sky with fiery debris that floated like a morbid ticker tape parade promoting the Aesuthites now fairly obvious tactical advantage. The turrets were going for the supply vessels first – Civlar would need to finish the job quickly and retreat or be decimated.\n\nThe battle raged. In within a few kilometers ahead of them beams of laser burst were seen descending from the dome as though they were lightening on the outside. The turrets momentarily swivel towards them and send forth another barrage, terminating the beams at their origin. They know now where they need to head to.\n\nAs they approached their target George swerves the car off the road at full speed careening it across a bumpy section of shrubs. As the smoking vehicle grinds to a halt, bogged down in thick mud, the shaken passengers disembark and start running towards an overhanging ridge to for a better view.\n\nTowards them stands the partially destroyed structure of a small military outpost.\n\n\"What is it?\" Joanna cries in between gasps for air.\n\nThe small building showed no signs of it apparent significance. Lightly guarded by two guard towers it could have been a simple training base or supply depot. Yet, the ferocity and apparently suicidal nature of the bombers attack seemed to indicate otherwise.\n\n\"We've got to destroy it!\" George instructs.\n\n\"We should wait. Perhaps Civlar can do the job for us,\" David interjects.\n\n\"No way. They are being decimated!\" George reminds the group as he clutches the two spherical balls close to his chest. Previously, he had taken the initiative to weld them together with the cut-off crowbar placed between them for convenience. They knew that such a device would be suitable for this purpose – but how would they get in there? Although it was indeed lightly defended, the five machine guns they had at their disposal are certainly no match for the guard towers.\n\nThey wait there for several more minutes as the Civlarian air force is being systematically destroyed above them. During that time they notice several military trucks speeding across the nearby road and piling up at the gate of the facility.\n\n\"You two come with me, we're going to wait near that piece of bush land!\" George commands, \"David and Tom – you wait back here and see what you can do.\"\n\nThe group scampers down the embankment and run once again toward the road where they take cover behind a large tree. The trucks were still flowing down the road, far too close for comfort but obviously too preoccupied with the situation to notice the three hidden dissidents crouching nearby.\n\nSoon, the wail of an ambulance could be heard in the distance. This was the chance they were looking for. \"We need to cut down that tree!\" George snaps, handing over a grenade to Andrew.\n\nWithout hesitation he runs towards the stump and places it in a small ridge in the trunk. With a boom and a creak the tree is felled, smashing against the road with a spray of leaves and twigs.\n\nAs expected, the ambulance screeches to a halt and the three of them make their move - spraying the driver and passenger with close range machine gun fire. Inside the cabin, Joanna finishes the job by sending a spray of bullets into two surprised ambulance officers and setting off a shower of sparks from the sensitive machinery within.\n\nOf the four uniforms only three were of a satisfactory condition to engage their ruse – slight blood speckling could be explained by previous jobs. The forth however was completely drenched in blood and intestines. The fallen tree was pushed aside where it provided some cover for the four unfortunate corpses, three of which were now naked. As they drive off slowly, the group waiting at the ridge see them discard their clothes out of the window and know that the infiltration is proceeding.\n\nWithin moments they arrive at the checkpoint and queue up with the other vehicles. For some tense seconds they wait silently as a guard strides hastily towards them. He makes a wild gesture to go through as the secondary boom gates open. From these actions George infers that there must be a fairly significant emergency inside.\n\nAs they pull up to the curb outside the damaged building they are immediately approached by what appears to be a high ranking General, a Priest and several soldiers. They disembark the vehicle swiftly, taking with them a random assortment of medical equipment from the ambulance. Andrew hastily tucks in his shirt behind the doorframe before he jumps out. They line up to greet the entourage.\n\n\"You are a medic?\" says the General to the miner while staring suspiciously. George remains unphased and stands in stunned and defiant silence. \"He looks like a serf!\" the General eventually continues, \"Look at his hardened hands and wrinkled face!\"\n\nAlthough disconcerting as the situation now appeared everybody knew that they needed to be inside the building in order for their plan to work. In a moment of panicked inspiration, George quickly reacts to the general's insinuation.\n\n\"I heard that there were some important people who need medical attention,\" he snaps while constructing his best official voice, \"If you want to keep your testicles I suggest you let us through!\"\n\nEnraged, the General pulls out his side arm and aims it at George's head – an action to which he does not flinch.\n\nThe Priest extends his hand and places it above the general's wrist -\"General, I am trained in reproductive morality... What this man said, in some vulgar way, was not incoherent. I certainly don't know any serfs that know of the word 'testicles'!\" he states slowly, all the while scanning the groups faces and eyes for any signs of deviancy.\n\nThe General begrudgingly lowers his weapon but it is clear that he is not fully satisfied with their credentials.\n\n\"Who do we need to look at first?\" George asks.\n\n\"Come with me, medic. There has been an incident in the computer labs,\" the priest reports, moving his hand in a gesture towards the front entrance.\n\nThe group walks swiftly through corridors filled with debris, wounded personnel, and buzzing with mid-level military officials. The General follows behind, one hand on his gun and watching them intently. His stride is interrupted by an approaching Lieutenant waving some papers in excitement.\n\n\"Sir!\" the Lieutenant shouts, accosting the General from his vigil.\n\nAs they leave him behind the dissidents catch the last a few words of the Lieutenant's report: \"victory has been achieved\".\n\nIt is then that they the notice through the tension of the preceding events that the air has indeed gone quiet.\n\nAs they burst through into the main computer room they see a circle of people crowded around an area on the ground.\n\n\"Move aside!\" yells the Priest.\n\nAs the men and women quickly dissipate the mangled body of a high ranking General appears on the floor.\n\n\"His injuries are severe,\" the priest advises, \"A server has fallen on him.\"\n\n\"Sir\", Joanna interjects quickly, \"I think it would be efficient if we left our Primary Officer to help the General while we attend to the other injured soldiers that we saw on the way.\"\n\n\"Yes, very good.\" the priest replies. They walk hastily towards the previous corridors and in the milieu they overhear a heated exchange:\n\n\"Deploy the systems now!\"\n\n\"Only General Alteris has the deployment codes.\"\n\n\"Call the head command and retrieve the auxiliary codes.\"\n\n\"Our communications systems are dead....\"\n\nMeanwhile, George hovers over the mangled body of General Alteris. Although he is alive it is quite true that his injuries are fatal – the impact to the head had left a pool of thick black blood around him and he sat there heaving with a fixed gaze towards the ceiling.\n\n\"He's dead – isn't he?\" the Priest asks somberly.\n\n\"No Sir he is not. But I will need to talk privately with you for a moment.\" George replies.\n\n\"What?\" the Priest snaps, disgusted that the medic is now wasting time at such an occasion.\n\nGeorge leans over and whispers into his ear - \"I have some extremely classified medical equipment in this bag. Absolutely new technology. If you could just remove the infantry from this room...\"\n\nThe Priest signals his consent and shouts stern orders for everybody to leave.\n\nGeorge and the Priest are now bent over General Alteris. He pulls out two shiny metallic balls, welded together with half a crowbar. Upon seeing this, the countenance on the face of the General rapidly changes as he struggles to emit words - \"Bo....Bo...\"\n\n\"Yes General, these balls will stop the bleeding,\" George hastily blurts as he presses down on the switch. The balls begin to emit a green light.\n\nHe turns to the priest and announces proudly - \"Well priest, this Serf may now know about Testicles, but he sure has some Big Balls!\"\n\nThe Priest turns pale as the switch is released emitting a red beam of light and an understated beep. That should be the end of this facility.\n\nWith a screech of tyres and a roar of the engine, Andrew and Joanna erupt towards the lowered boom gates. As the guards draw their weapons they are thrown back by a thunderous explosion.\n\nThe ambulance twists and careens through the boom gate as debris whistle past them. They are surprised now by a secondary explosion but soon realize that David and Tom has now made their way to the entrance, after utilizing their final grenade to destroy a truck full of infantry waiting at the back of the main queue\n\nAndrew slows down to assist their friends but again hits the accelerator as he sees them being mowed down by the oncoming bullets from the guard tower. At top speed the pair careen and bounce through the winding road – sirens still blaring.\n\nEventually they reach a straight section of road. Joanna now turns to Andrew and makes a startling confession: \"I'm pregnant.\"\n\nAndrew heads for the precinct border.\n\nCHAPTER 14 - THE EXECUTIONS\n\nThe bar is lively on a Saturday night when abruptly the television system suddenly switches to the news. Disgusted, the bartender proceeds to flick through the channels – but finds the same news on every channel. Momentarily, expectations started to mount amongst the crowd that they had won the war. The bar falls silent and people now waited with baited breath for the imminent announcement.\n\n\"The Human Rights Law Society and the Prisons Association have both confirmed that two Realm Secret Service agents, captured while performing a daring raid against a prison in the Prison District, are due to be executed at dawn. Although this action is completely illegal, it seems now that the President himself has called in the army and declared martial law in the Prison District. Army shuttles are making their way to the prison district as we speak to restore law and order....\"\n\n\"The agents, whose names have been confirmed as Peta and Michael, supposedly infiltrated the prison disguised as engineers and subsequently engaged in a gunfight that left 30 guards and 3 fellow agents dead.\"\n\n\"Although it is still not known the exact reason for the attack, it is believed that they had surrendered while performing the strange act of disconnecting another existing POW, and also suspected to be a secret service agent, from a life support system.\"\n\n\"Human rights lawyers, however, are quick to point out that the POW in question was never meant to be on life support in the first place, citing the government's assertion that she had been involved in a near-fatal altercation with a follow inmate as absurd. The government's counter-position is that the attempt by Secret Services to kill their own agent is proof indicative that her life was already in danger by fellow inmates at the prison.\"\n\nThe news switches to the head of the Law Society.\n\n\"Martial law is illegal. Executions are illegal. Furthermore, Peta and Michael have not had access to any legal representation, member of the media or the Corruption Commission – which, we believe, in this instance is completely unjustified considering the circumstances.\"\n\nThe news switches to the President.\n\n\"Citizens, we take these regrettable actions due to a situation that is not of our making. The terrorists in question have voluntarily confessed a great revelation – that our enemy has been designing nano-machines that are capable of eating through the very materials that are used to construct our Domes. Under most special and unprecedented circumstances, your government has been forced to send a strong signal to enemy. If should be apparent in the extreme now that violence is the only language they understand!\"\n\nThe stunned audience is speechless.\n\n\"Our government has gone insane!\" yells a man at the center of the room.\n\n\"Don't worry – the Distributed Party will get in,\" interjected another.\n\n\"Bollocks! There will be a civil war!\"\n\nLater, at the Presidential Offices, the President receives a call from the opposition.\n\n\"Hey Buddy!!\" chimes the President, \"Did you see the proposal I sent to you?\"\n\n\"Yes, I did see it,\" the opposition leader replies sternly.\n\n\"With your support we can pass it through parliament. Obviously, this will imbue a great deal of gratitude on behalf....\"\n\n\"We are not passing your Retrospective Laws Amendment Bill, president. I will see you at the election.\"\n\nThe president already knew that he was doomed to an election loss. He could only hope that he still had enough credibility to pass the corruption hearings and already there was a great deal of buzz about a civil war.\n\nThe mood on the streets had changed.\n\nNobody was talking to each other anymore.\n\nCHAPTER 15 - PRISONERS OF CIRCUMSTANCE\n\nIn Civlar's prison sector prisoners are processed according to their level of reform.\n\nWhile the most dangerous of the prisoners are kept together, those that show promise during their treatment are eventually given the opportunity of release into Civlar, where they become full citizens imbued with every right that any other citizen would have. Jane is due for release in two weeks. It is almost a forgone conclusion.\n\nTo add to the celebration, her friend Susan should be released today.\n\nThey had talked at length about how they will meet up when they are released and start a new life in Civlar's capital administrative zone. Intent on leaving her former lives as Realm Air Force pilots behind, they had both committed never to take the path of violence and aspired to jobs in the civil services.\n\nJane lives on the top floor of Complex A, which is a luxury apartment equipped to the same level as middle class facilities in Civlar. She has full access to all communications equipment: lawyers, police, and politicians. She needed none of those – her physiological reports had been excellent for a long time, and she has a friendly relationship with the prison guards and personnel.\n\nAdmittedly, being a bomber pilot meant that she started off in the middle of Civlar's criminal code – not at the bottom level which was mainly reserved for suicide bombers and secret services. Their amenities were extremely basic and they would be locked in their cells for the majority of the time. Apart from walking out of the gate, or entering a restricted area, Jane was allowed to do almost anything. She could even visit the criminally insane at the lower levels – but to do so would itself be insane.\n\nWhy? It was psychiatrists' jobs to reform them, not hers.\n\nAfter sitting in a bubble bath thinking about it for a while, she decided to head down for a stroll around the gardens. As she walks down the familiar corridor, she is greeted by Warden Smith. Today however, the customary \"hello\" was tainted somehow with an expression of concern. Jane was too preoccupied with her impending release and the release of her friend to inquire further and also consigned not to impede on the privacy of whatever personal matter was troubling the warden.\n\n\"Hi,\" she said cordially, \"Is Susan around?\"\n\n\"She has left the facility,\" replied Warden Smith in voice of labored neutrality.\n\n\"Already? I thought she had a few more hours left....\"\n\n\"We let her out early because it was more efficient for her to catch the previous shuttle bus today....\"\n\n\"Well, that's good for her!\" said Jane – she would be phoning her tonight to see how she was doing. The only unfortunate thing is that she had left without saying goodbye.\n\nWarden Smith walks around Jane and steps forward, but retracts almost immediately to tap Jane on the shoulder. To Jane's amazement he is extending his left arm with a small firearm, on an open hand. Jane's following exclamation of \"What?\" was both an instinctive response and a slight sense of amusement at what would or should clearly be some kind of joke.\n\n\"Look, just hold on to this, okay...\" utters the warden, the grim expression now returning to his face.\n\nJane stands there considering the proposition. Was this some kind of test? Surely the warden would not be trying to seduce her with a contraband item so close to her release? The issue of trust was now placed foremost in her mind – but eventually she gave in to the concept that she had a friendly relationship with the warden. Although she did not know for what reason this was being offered to her, she eventually took the weapon from Smith and placed it slowly under her belt, lifting up her holster top so that the gun was partially hidden, only perceptible by the bulge.\n\n\"I've got to go now;\" he said, walking away with a slightly nervous \"take care\".\n\nAlthough the warden's unusual behavior was perplexing, Jane consigned to continue her plan of walking through the gardens. She walked down the hall to the elevator and as she stepped in she noticed another guard going inside the lift. This was not a guard that Jane had associated with often, so apart from a casual nod of recognition they both proceeded downward to the lower levels.\n\nWith a jolt the elevator stopped intermittently, the lights flashing off for at least half a second. As the lights came back on, Jane realizes that the bulge in her pants was gone and looks down to see the gun tippling around on the floor. The unfamiliar guard instinctively placed one hand on her own firearm but soon retracts it.\n\n\"Aren't you going to pick it up?\" asks the guard after a short silence. Although the time was merely a few seconds, Jane's mind had expanded it further, to contemplate her, now seemingly irrelevant, situation. She pulled back from the verge of crying, in fact, considering the possibility that possessing such contraband could count against her impending release. Trembling, she picked up the firearm and put in back under her belt. Now she knew that something was not normal. It was either something very bad or very good.\n\nIf this is some kind of test, she concluded, she had surely passed. She had proven that her terrorist instincts had well and truly dissolved during the Civlarian reform process and that, even in a situation whereby she was fearful of her life and liberty, she would chose the path of pacifism over the animalistic desire to defend herself.\n\nAs the elevator doors opened, the guard began to offer a treat:\n\n\"Look, you should go to the cafeteria. A major official was having a birthday last night and there's a whole lobster left. And champagne.\"\n\n\"Cool!\" exclaims Jane with relief, confusion and excitement.\n\nIn Civlar, a lobster would cost a quarter of the average income of a regular citizen. Only the highest classes of official could afford them. She is dazzled by the offer and she decides against the walk and headed to the cafeteria instead.\n\nTo her surprise, the usual breakfast crowd is not there. Neither the inmates nor the guards. In fact, it was deserted.\n\nShe acquires the lobster and proceeds to eat slowly. She sat eating for several minutes, her mind no longer occupied with the strange happenings of the morning and not at all concerned about the eerie silence that permeated the empty cafeteria.\n\nHowever, this silence would not prevail. The sliding door opened to reveal a single man dressed in white overalls. She knew immediately that this should have been a prisoner that had been transferred up from a lower level. Perhaps he had not yet been to the retail area (which was quite deceptively named, since all the items were provided free of charge.) Happy for some company, she started to smile. The man smiled back, to which Jane extended a courteous \"Hello.\"\n\n\"Hi\"\n\n\"Have a seat\" she said, preparing to offer and invitation to consume part of the lobster that was left untouched.\n\n\"You are dressed immodestly,\" said the man.\n\n\"What a smart-arse! – just been moved up and already with the black comedy,\" she thought, laughing out loud.\n\nThen, five other men emerge from the door.\n\nHad they all been moved up?\n\nThe men started advancing and Jane knew that something was wrong.\n\n\"You're just fucking around, right?\" she said.\n\n\"We're fucking you,\" one of them said with a tone of detached sentiment.\n\n\"I will have you charged for that comment.\" retorted Jane, still unsure whether to take it seriously.\n\nThen, one man produced a crowbar.\n\n\"Hey, that's too far!\" said Jane - now serious - \"Put it down!\"\n\nThey advanced.\n\nShe pulled out her weapon and the men stopped. \"She can't kill us all!\" one man states defiantly.\n\nShe knew now that they were quite serious...\n\nAs they lunged forward, her training as a marksman returned to her in an instant, and with two swift shots she decapitated two of the men, while simultaneously standing up from the chair and causing it to crash to the ground. This action caused the younger of the men to hesitate and then start running away, leaving three now in pursuit.\n\nJane runs for the secondary door through the corridor behind her. Through the corner of her eye she could see that the remaining men were giving chase.\n\nShe turned the corner and went through the door.\n\nThen, she sees a sight that almost makes her stop.\n\nAll the inmates are out of their cells. Not the just free ones – all of them. Men and women are laughing hysterically, crying and whimpering in fear. Now she realizes that it would be the worse option of her previous tautology: this is very bad.\n\nProminently displaying her firearm as a deterrent, she runs through the crowd. But most of the inmates are not paying much attention – only a few of them gasped with awe. They were all preoccupied now, as was she, with...whatever the hell this was.\n\nLooking back, she saw that her pursuers had now abandoned her, obviously to find an easier target. She went back to her room and locked the door.\n\nShe needed to think.\n\nAbout the only thing she did not see was a guard. She walked through the possibilities in her mind.\n\nHad they all left the prison precinct and left the prisoners to their own devices?\n\n\"That's sick...\" she thought. They wouldn't do that, it's not like them.\n\nMaybe it was a new form of government and the prisoners were now allowed to run their own facilities without intervention. \"But a single fucking firearm, how can I control 300 inmates with this?!\" she thought in panicked internal monologue.\n\nThat's sick!!!\n\nShe knew that she had no time to figure this out. She needs to act quickly. Once the prisoners started organizing properly, the rape gangs would begin. Seven men could be dealt with – but not thirty.\n\nNow all she could think of were the restricted areas.\n\nShe makes her way there as quickly as possible.\n\nAs she approaches the door, she hesitates at the knowledge that she does not know the security code. However, to her astonishment, the door just opened by itself. This stroke of luck fills her again with hope, since the machine guns contained therein would be of great benefit in protecting herself and connecting with any like-minded prisoners that could restore order to the facility.\n\nAs the room was about to entered, the recurring thought that the door was unlocked suddenly put an end to her enthusiasm.\n\n\"Fucking hell, I thought Civlarians would be more organized about this?\"\n\nHer horror is confirmed when she opened the machine gun repository to find it empty.\n\nIt made sense too – it would have been just as likely that a hardened suicide bomber would make their way to this restricted area as it would her.\n\nThis is sick.\n\nAfter a small moment of stunned silence, she notices the control room. As she enters, the panic and sense of dread are compounded by the flashing red screens, pronouncing one word - \"EVACUATE\".\n\n\"We're being ... liberated,\" she thinks, but corrects herself - not liberated, re-subjugated!\n\nThe air force of her former masters was surely going to attack the dock and infiltrate the Dome. If that was the case, she knew that the gun was now an option for her own suicide.\n\nHer panic is now at a fever pitch. Stumbling, she engages the computer systems while formulating vague ideas about calling politicians. The lines are dead. She needs to see what was happening outside.\n\n\"View skyline!\" she half-screams.\n\nThe computer responds with a panorama view of the Dome and surrounding areas.\n\n\"Are the turrets armed?\" she asks the machine.\n\n\"There is only one turret, commander, it is not armed.\" comes the computer's synthetic and emotionless reply.\n\n\"WHAT?!\" she exclaims, \"Arm turret!\"\n\n\"Engaged.\"\n\nAs she slumps back into the control chair she has only one thing on her mind. If there was going to be an enemy attack she would at least take a few of the bastards out before the eventual conclusion.\n\n\"Lock restricted areas!\" Jane snaps, suddenly aware of the fact that a breach of the control tower was now not in her best interests. She hears the locking mechanism snap into place and the computer's confirmation.\n\nFor agonizing minutes she watches the sky.\n\nThen a single gleaming light appears on the horizon. This must be the armada. But as the light grew nearer, she realized that it was no armada. It was a nuclear missile.\n\nShe could only watch helplessly as the nuke now advanced on the Dome.\n\nClosing her eyes on impact, she feels the entire area shaking.\n\nThen, she dared herself to open her eyes, and she was overcome by an overwhelming relief – she was still alive.\n\n\"It didn't get through the dome!\"\n\n\"What luck, the guards will be back!\"\n\nThen she hears a noise that was seldom heard in Civlar or the Realm alike. A sickening noise that instilled fear in all human beings: the cracking of the Dome.\n\nThis was no luck, there would now be contamination. Nanos and virii were seeping through. This could only mean a slow painful death.\n\nShe held the gun to her head, prepared to take the better of her options now. Then she notices out of the corner of her eye, more glowing objects approaching. They were all nukes. Seven of them.\n\nIt was now clear that her former government was going to destroy the POW facility housing their own soldiers.\n\n\"But, isn't seven overkill?\"\n\n\"And what a choice of target!\"\n\nShe lowers the gun onto her lap. Even the Nanos would take more time to infiltrate than the approaching nukes.\n\n\"I'll just watch the fireworks,\" she thinks.\n\n###\n\n", "meta": {"pile_set_name": "BookCorpus2"}}
{"text": "\n\nKurtain Motel\n\nWritten by A. I. Nasser\n\nEdited by Emma Salam and Lance Piao\n\nCopyright © 2016 by ScareStreet.com\n\nAll rights reserved.\n\nThank You and Bonus Novel!\n\nTo really show you my appreciation for downloading this book, I'd love to send you the full length novel: Sherman's Library Trilogy by Ron Ripley in 3 formats (MOBI, EPUB and PDF) absolutely free! This will surely make chills run down your spine!\n\nDownload Sherman's Library Trilogy in 3 formats, get FREE short stories, and receive future discounts by visiting www.ScareStreet.com/AINasser\n\nWelcome,\n\nA.I. Nasser\n\n# Table of Contents\n\nPrologue\n\nChapter 1\n\nChapter 2\n\nChapter 3\n\nChapter 4\n\nChapter 5\n\nChapter 6\n\nChapter 7\n\nChapter 8\n\nChapter 9\n\nChapter 10\n\nChapter 11\n\nChapter 12\n\nChapter 13\n\nChapter 14\n\nChapter 15\n\nChapter 16\n\nChapter 17\n\nFREE Bonus Novel!\n\n# Prologue\n\nAlexander Pike burst through the doors of the small diner just as the rain began to pick up. The storm had caught up with him. The warnings on the radio were a bleak memory of the beginning of his journey when he had ignored the meteorologists. After all, he was Alexander Pike, and no storm would stop him from getting where he needed to be.\n\nAlex shook the rain off his suit jacket and brushed his fingers through his hair. He had misjudged the weather, but it didn't matter. He would wait in the diner until the worst of it was past and then be on his way again. He was on a tight deadline, and he doubted the storm would keep him here for very long.\n\nHe walked over to the bar and pushed up onto an empty stool, barely taking in his surroundings as he pulled out his cellphone. He had no coverage, and he cursed his luck. He would have to find another way to call San Francisco. Slipping out of his jacket, he folded it neatly and draped it over the back of his stool. He sniffed as his sinuses filled with the smell of bacon and eggs coming from the kitchen beyond.\n\nThere were very little people in the diner this time of the night, which wasn't much of a surprise. The weather forecast had been bleak for a few days now, and people had been advised to stay indoors and wait out the storm. Alex barely registered the petite blonde waitress napping in one of the stalls or the old gentleman at the other end of the bar cradling his coffee in both hands. Although Alex was known to be reckless, a trait that had proven valuable at times and tiresome at others, he doubted many people would venture out in this weather.\n\n\"What can I get you?\"\n\nAlex turned to face the middle-aged woman, her green eyes boring into him as she wiped her hands on a towel hanging from her waist. She was pretty in a back-country sort of way, her hair tied back in a tight ponytail that allowed her high cheekbones to stand out. She was smiling at him, but the gesture seemed more strained than genuine, and Alex could immediately tell that the woman would rather be somewhere else other than here.\n\nAlex grabbed at the small menu laid out before him and quickly scanned it, his eyes flying over the specials before he found his poison.\n\n\"Coffee. Black.\"\n\nThe woman nodded and turned away, leaving Alex to brood over his phone as he turned it off and restarted it, hoping for a signal. His eyes caught a movement to his left and he looked up to see an old man watching him closely, eyes intent as he sipped slowly at his drink. The lights in the diner flickered with the resonant sounds of thunder outside, and the rain increased in fury.\n\nThere would be no calling out tonight. The storm wasn't letting up, and it would be hours before he could jump back into his Beamer and be back on his way. Deciding on a more comfortable seat, Alex stood up and settled into one of the booths near the window, looking out at the falling rain in dismay. His car was the only vehicle in the lot, which struck him as strange given that he was not the only guest in the diner.\n\nThe woman at the bar called out to the waitress and Alex watched in amusement as the girl trudged to pick up his drink and bring it to him. She set it down slowly, hands shaking, and Alex could tell from the black rings under her eyes that she was in dire need of a good night's sleep. He remembered his earlier days working the night shift in a call center downtown, how the highlight of his day would be the moment his head settled onto his pillow and his eyes shut out the world around him.\n\n\"Thank you,\" Alex said softly, eyeing the waitress as she grunted and walked back to her booth, immediately settling down again. He watched her, and his eyes moved back to the old man who was still staring intently at him. It was starting to make Alex eerily uncomfortable, and he toyed with the idea of calling the man out and embarrassing him in front of everyone.\n\nForget it.\n\nAlex shook his head and stared back out the window. He wrapped both hands around the coffee mug, letting the heat seep into his skin and warm him up. He hadn't noticed how cold he was until this moment, and he gently raised the cup to his mouth to take a sip.\n\nThe old man slid into the booth, startling Alex.\n\n\"Jesus, what's the matter with you?\" Alex gasped, frowning irritably.\n\nThe old man gave him a toothless smile and pointed a shaky finger at Alex.\n\n\"I know you,\" he said, his voice raspy from one too many cigarettes, his tongue licking his lips as he spoke.\n\n\"I highly doubt that,\" Alex replied, glancing at the bar and hoping to get the waitress's attention. The woman had disappeared into the kitchen, though, and all Alex could hear was her soft humming as food sizzled on the grill inside.\n\n\"Sure I do,\" the old man said. \"I saw your face on one of 'em magazines o'er there.\"\n\nAlex turned to where the man was pointing and saw the front cover of TIME magazine. A large portrait of him filled the cover, hiding the magazine's title behind his sleek hair. Alex remembered the interview clearly, and the woman he had seduced into his bed after she was done asking him questions. It had been a fruitful day.\n\n\"That's you, ain't it?\" the old man asked.\n\nAlex looked back at the man, taking in the thin, long greying hair and the stubble that was interrupted by patches of skin. The man smiled at him, what remained of his teeth yellow and rotten against his pale skin. The only thing worse than his attire, was the pungent smell coming out of his mouth.\n\n\"Maybe,\" Alex said, trying to breathe through his mouth.\n\nThe old man shook his finger at him. \"Ah, ah, Mr. Time Magazine,\" he chuckled. \"Don't be so modest.\"\n\nAlex sighed. \"Do you want an autograph?\"\n\nThe man laughed hard and smacked his hand on the table. \"That would be somethin', now won't it?\"\n\nAlex patted his shirt for a pen and began reaching for his coat when the old man stopped him.\n\n\"No, Mr. Pike,\" the man said, his tone more serious. \"What I want you to do is confess.\"\n\nAlex frowned. \"Confess?\"\n\nThe old man leaned in and gestured for Alex to come closer. Alex hesitated, then obliged.\n\n\"You see, I know where your millions came from, Mr. Pike,\" the old man whispered. \"Between you and me, I really don't care much for the thousands y' scammed into trustin' you with their hard-earned savings. If you want to throw your money away, no one's stoppin' ya, is what I always say.\"\n\nAlex pulled back in anger. \"Listen, I don't know who you think you are, but you've got your facts all wrong.\"\n\nThe old man held up a hand and stopped Alex from continuing. \"Don't care. I know what I know. All you need to do is confess, and we can all be on our merry way.\"\n\n\"Confess what?\"\n\n\"That you're a thief, Mr. Pike,\" the old man grinned. \"That you're a thief and a coward, and that all this publicity 'round's ya is nothin' but show. You ain't got a dime of all dat money left, do ya? That gamblin' problem of yours, a real bitch if y'ask me.\"\n\nAlex opened his mouth to say something, but the words failed him. He had no idea who this man was, or how he had come to know all that he knew. All Alex did know was that he didn't have to sit around and listen to the old man rant.\n\nLooking out the window, Alex could see the rain letting up. He pulled out a hundred dollar bill from his wallet, threw it on the table and began to stand up. The old man reached out a gnarled hand to stop him, which Alex quickly slapped away.\n\n\"Don't,\" Alex hissed. \"I don't know who you are, but what you're doing is called harassment, and I could have you arrested right here, right now.\" Alex grabbed his coat and pulled it on, keeping his eyes on the old man and the ridiculous grin on his face.\n\n\"No one leaves until they've confessed,\" the old man said, his voice barely audible even in the silence of the diner. \"Ask 'round. They'll all tell ya.\"\n\nSuddenly the diner was full of people, crammed together, shoulder to shoulder as they stood limp and motionless. Men and women varying in age and size, eyes downcast and shoulders slumped with their lips moving as if in silent prayer. Alex felt something cold touch his hand, and his head snapped back to the old man.\n\nOnly, he wasn't old anymore, and the hollow eyes staring up at Alex made his blood curl.\n\n\"They want their money back, Alex.\"\n\nAlex pulled away from the man, quickly barging through the crowd of people, pushing past them towards the diner door. The rain outside was falling in torrents again, but Alex didn't care. He needed to get out, now. The sudden urgency was overwhelming as he felt hands grab at the nape of his neck and the collar of his shirt.\n\nAlex pushed through the diner door, hands stretched out to break his fall as he anticipated the rough texture of asphalt and water. He hit the ground hard, his knees slamming against the floor sending bolts of pain up his spine, and when he looked up, he found that he was still in the diner.\n\nDozens of eyes stared at him, and as the mob of people moved forward in unison, hands stretched out, voices rising, Alex began to scream.\n\n#  Chapter 1\n\nPatrick Lahm knew he was in trouble the minute the gas light began flashing. He glanced in frustration at the marker poised dangerously under the E, and slammed his fist against the steering wheel. His mind raced as he tried to remember how many more miles he had left before his car would shut down on him. When he couldn't retrieve the information, he slowed down and stopped by the curb.\n\n'Route 25' was empty.\n\nPatrick turned off the ignition, hoping to save what little gas he had left, and stepped out of the car. He glanced up and down the highway, hoping to see twin beacons of headlights from either side, but was rewarded with nothing but emptiness. He slammed his palm against the driver's door, wondering what the hell he had been thinking when he had driven past the last gas station several miles back.\n\n\"Smart, hot shot, really smart,\" he mumbled to himself.\n\nPatrick made his way to the trunk and opened it, rummaging through its contents as he searched for the spare gas canister he usually left aside for instances like these. When he couldn't find it, he slammed the trunk closed.\n\n\"Perfect,\" he sighed. \"Just perfect!\"\n\nPatrick opened the back door and pulled a map out of his laptop bag. He laid it out on the hood of the car and angled it enough for the light to help him make out where he was. The next town was at least twenty miles north, and there was no way he was going to be able to walk that. He traced a finger along the highway's blue line, squinting as he tried to find a gas station nearby. He remembered how the woman at his last stop had assured him the map would be a life saver, but right now it was telling him to just call it a day and sleep in the car. Maybe the morning traffic would send him a savior.\n\nPatrick glanced at his watch. It was just past midnight, and he had to be in Hartford by noon. Even if he could wait it out until the morning, there was no way he would make it to the book signing in time. Patrick folded the map and replaced it, slinging the laptop bag over his shoulder and locking the car.\n\nHe would just have to risk the walk and hope someone would pick him up on the way.\n\n***\n\nIt was only two miles and three pairs of headlights later when a car finally stopped for Patrick. He didn't try to get its attention, the frustration of having had failed three times reminded him how little people trusted hitchhikers. So, it was a surprise when the driver of the Chevrolet pulled up to the curb in front of Patrick and turned on the emergency lights.\n\nPatrick picked up the pace and leaned in through the passenger door window, instantly relieved when the smiling face of a priest gazed back at him. The man was still wearing his parish clothes, the white band around his collar clear beneath the large brown overcoat around his shoulders. He looked barely over fifty, a day-old stubble framing his jaw and only adding to the man's handsome features. The cold had already begun setting in, and hot air was blasting out of the air conditioner.\n\n\"Where ya headed?\" the priest asked, his voice soft as if he were taking confession.\n\n\"Anywhere that has a phone,\" Patrick replied. He could already feel the beginnings of a drizzle. \"My car broke down a few miles back, and I need to reach Triple A.\"\n\nThe priest's smile widened as he nodded. \"Cell reception is not what it seems out here.\"\n\nPatrick shrugged. \"I wouldn't know. My phone died hours ago.\"\n\nA wind picked up and started blowing the rain into Patrick's face, forcing him to squint.\n\n\"Well, get on in,\" the priest waved at him. \"You don't want to be caught out in the open in this weather.\"\n\nPatrick thanked him and quickly slid into the passenger seat, rolling up the window as the priest idled out into the highway and picked up speed.\n\nPatrick warmed his hands against the hot gusts coming out from between the slits in the dashboard, letting the warm air soothe him. \"I didn't know it was going to rain,\" he said nonchalantly, looking up at the priest.\n\nThe man smiled, yet kept his eyes on the road. \"Connecticut weather can fool ya if ya let it.\" He looked at Patrick and winked.\n\n\"Thanks for this, by the way,\" Patrick said, rubbing his hands together for more warmth.\n\n\"Don't mention it,\" the priest replied. \"What kind of man of God would I be if I had let you walk in this rain?\" He looked at Patrick seriously. \"You're not crazy, are you?\"\n\nPatrick coughed laughter as the priest eased into his own bemused smile.\n\n\"So, where?\"\n\n\"Hartford,\" Patrick said. \"I have a book signing tomorrow. Though from the look of things, I might just miss it.\"\n\n\"An author, eh?\" the priest smiled. \"Anything I might have read?\"\n\n\"Doubtful,\" Patrick replied. \"They're not the holiest of works.\"\n\nThe priest chuckled. \"We all have our guilty pleasures.\"\n\nPatrick looked at the man and smiled, wondering what a priest was doing driving down Route 25 at two in the morning. It was one of those questions that he usually kept to himself, the timeless what-if's of any author. What if the priest was actually in disguise and was going to kill him? What if the man was on a calling to save the damned?\n\nDaydreams, Patrick thought to himself. Daydreams that eventually turned into stories.\n\nIf he could write them.\n\nEver since his last bestseller, he had hit a speed bump in the road of creativity. At least, that's what he liked to call it. His editor liked to call it a wall. Either way, the block was costing him money and time, and although the publishers had hinted at using a ghostwriter to help him churn out another book, Patrick had fought hard against the idea.\n\nThe priest glanced at Patrick and smiled. \"Troubled?\"\n\n\"No,\" Patrick said. \"I'm hoping I'm not messing up your schedule.\"\n\n\"Not at all,\" the priest said, shaking his head. \"I'm on my way to see an old friend. Got the call last night that he was dying and wanted to see me.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry.\"\n\n\"No need,\" the priest waved. \"He's a man who has lived a full life and has the scars to prove it. Some things you just can't fight and win.\"\n\nPatrick frowned, remembering how his father had always said the exact same thing when he was younger. Every time luck turned on him, old man Lahm would shrug it off and recite the same phrase as if it were some kind of prayer. It was odd to hear it coming from the priest's lips.\n\n\"There's a motel a few miles down,\" the priest was saying. \"I'm going to turn in there and wait until morning before going on my way. I'm sure you'll find what you need there.\"\n\nPatrick nodded, trying to remember if he had seen the motel on his map earlier. They would definitely have a phone, and if there was no way to get moving before the morning, then at least he would have a bed to sleep in instead of the backseat of his car. Either way, it was a win.\n\n\"Lahm.\"\n\nPatrick turned at the mention of his name.\n\nThe priest turned to Patrick and smiled. \"See, I knew I recognized ya,\" he said. \"Patrick Lahm. 'Faraway Places', I loved that book!\"\n\nPatrick smiled widely and sighed in relief, only now realizing that his heart had kicked into overdrive. He could feel a residual chill from hearing his name called out like that. It had sounded ominous in the otherwise quiet car.\n\n\"See, I told ya I might have read your work,\" the priest chuckled.\n\n\"I'm glad you liked it enough to remember who I was,\" Patrick replied.\n\n\"One of your best,\" the priest nodded. \"I'm not much of a romance reader myself, but that definitely drew me in. You're one helluva writer!\"\n\n\"Thank you,\" Patrick replied, easing into his seat as he pushed his laptop bag into the floorboard.\n\n\"Working on anything new?\"\n\nPatrick hated questions like that, and when he confronted eager fans who wanted any information on upcoming works, he usually handled things with a large dose of sarcasm. Answers varied from, 'Depends on what my editor forces me to do', to, 'Believe me, you'll be the first to know'. However, given the situation he was in and how much he currently depended on the man behind the wheel, he believed it best not to offend the priest.\n\n\"In and out of projects,\" Patrick lied. \"The book signing has been taking most of my time.\"\n\nThe priest nodded. \"It's always the little things that divert us from our true talents.\"\n\n\"Well, you could hardly call a book signing 'little things',\" Patrick said. \"It's important to meet the fans, shake hands, be an all-round nice guy. It's what gets the books off the shelves and the money into my pockets.\"\n\nThe priest glanced at Patrick, his smile barely moving, yet his eyes seemed to change. Patrick could almost sense a look of disapproval there, and wondered if the priest was judging him.\n\n\"Well, I'm just glad it's all working out okay.\"\n\nPatrick watched the man for a few seconds before thanking him and gazing back out the window at the falling rain.\n\n***\n\nBy the time they had reached the motel, the skies had opened up completely and the rain was coming down in torrents. Thunder boomed in the distance between flashes of lightning that illuminated the skies for the briefest of moments before giving way to the darkness.\n\nPatrick raced from the car and past the neon sign that welcomed its guests to the Kurtain Motel, followed closely by the priest as both men pushed into the front office. A woman and her son sat huddled on one of the couches in the corner, their bags damp with rain and their hair matted against their heads as Patrick quickly nodded a hello to them.\n\nNeither returned the greeting.\n\nPatrick took off his coat, folding it over one arm as the priest lightly tapped the bell on the front desk. They waited in silence, Patrick glancing back only once at the other two guests, until a burly man walked out from a back room. A cigarette hung loosely from his lips and his hair was combed back against his scalp, revealing bald spots. He looked at Patrick and the priest with little interest before pulling out a ledger and opening it to the date of the day.\n\n\"One room?\" the man asked.\n\n\"Actually,\" Patrick said, interrupting before the priest could reply. \"I only want to use the phone. My car broke down.\"\n\nThe man took a long drag from his cigarette before blowing smoke in Patrick's face. \"Phones aren't working. The rain's ruined everything.\"\n\n\"Then do you have a cell phone I can use?\"\n\nThe man shook his head and licked his lips, the pen in his hand poised over an empty space in the ledger as he waited to write Patrick's name in. Patrick sighed in frustration and looked at the priest in dismay. The priest shrugged and shook his head.\n\n\"Fine,\" Patrick gave in. \"One night. Two rooms.\"\n\n\"Name?\" the man asked, balancing his cigarette in the corner of his mouth.\n\n\"Patrick Lahm.\"\n\n\"And you?\"\n\nThe priest was about to reply when Patrick stopped him. \"I'm covering it. It's the least I can do.\"\n\nThe priest smiled at him and nodded.\n\nPatrick looked back at the man behind the desk and pulled out his wallet. The man only grunted, taking another drag from his cigarette, and said, \"Either way, I need his name.\"\n\n\"Harold Bell,\" the priest offered.\n\nThe man bent over the ledger, and Patrick looked back at the woman and her son. The boy was staring at Patrick, the look on his face deeply serious, and only smiled when Patrick waved at him. The mother, who seemed lost in her own thoughts, came to when she saw Patrick's gesture, and instinctively pulled her son closer. Patrick shrugged it off and turned back just as the man behind the desk set two keys in front of him.\n\n\"212 and 213,\" the man said between puffs of smoke. \"Try not to break anything while you're in there.\"\n\nPatrick gave him a half-smile. \"Sure, we'll keep the partying to a minimal.\"\n\nThe man was not amused. \"Cash or credit?\"\n\nPatrick took out his credit card.\n\n***\n\nOwen Little watched as the two men walked out of the front office and skirted through the rain to the shelter of the motel canopy. He grunted and put out his cigarette, checking his log book as he counted down the names.\n\nSeven guests tonight.\n\nOwen smiled to himself. After weeks with only one guest propped up in room 215, things were slowly starting to look more promising. He reminded himself to pray to whichever god was responsible for tonight's downpour, and put the log book away as he glanced at the woman and her son.\n\n\"Lady, I don't think your cab is coming,\" Owen said. \"You might as well just take a room and sleep the storm out.\"\n\nThe woman stared at him for a few seconds, not blinking, her brown hair falling in wet strands over her shoulders. She had come in less than an hour ago, claiming that a cab was on its way to pick her and her son up, and that she didn't want to wait in the rain. Owen had jumped at the opportunity to be in the company of a pretty face, but after a few attempts at flirting, it was apparent that she was not going to be much for conversation.\n\n\"Well?\" Owen asked.\n\nThe poker face made him shudder. She was beautiful, he couldn't deny that, but there was something about her that just didn't sit well with him. He couldn't put his finger on it, but Owen knew trouble when he saw it, and this woman had trouble written all over her. If his wife were still alive, she would have probably set the woman up in a nice room free of charge and made her dinner as well. Owen was not his wife, though, and his instincts were telling him to send the woman packing.\n\n\"Lady, if you're not going to take a room, then you gotta get going,\" Owen said. \"This isn't a shelter.\"\n\nThe woman blinked several times, as if waking up from a dream, and focused on Owen for the first time since she had walked in. She looked down at her son, patted him on the back and walked to Owen's desk, purse in her hand. She pulled out a credit card and handed it to him.\n\n\"In the morning, we can call you another cab,\" Owen said, turning his charm back on.\n\n\"That won't be necessary,\" the woman replied. \"We can find our own way home.\"\n\nOwen nodded and ran the card through his machine, noting the name Tara Frey at the bottom. \"One night?\" he asked, opening the log book again and writing in her name.\n\nTara nodded. \"For now,\" she added in afterthought.\n\nOwen reached for a key and handed it to her. \"Room 214. Enjoy the night.\"\n\nTara looked at the key in her hands, rotating it between her fingers, then handed it back. \"I would like a different room, please.\"\n\nOwen frowned. \"Is something wrong?\"\n\n\"I'm a very private person, and I would like to stay away from the other guests.\"\n\nOwen suddenly felt incredibly annoyed. \"Listen, it's the only room we have. Take it or leave it.\"\n\nTara stared at him for a moment before saying, \"You have seven guests here, and forty rooms. The one hundred's are closed off, I understand for renovation, but the others are all working. Rooms 219 and 220 are furthest from anyone.\"\n\nOwen's eyes widened and his mouth opened and closed as he gazed at the woman with her outstretched hand, dangling the keys in front of him. \"How do you know that?\" he asked.\n\nTara gestured at the log book. \"Guests and room numbers. All there.\"\n\nThat doesn't explain how you know about the closed off rooms.\n\nOwen shrugged the thought aside and penned in Tara's name, handing over the key to room 219. She stared long and hard at it before tucking it away into her purse and gesturing for her son. The boy rushed to her, rolling the bags behind him with the ease of someone who was used to moving around with a suitcase.\n\n\"Thank you,\" Tara said, giving Owen a weak smile.\n\nOwen watched the woman lead her son out into the rain as they trudged towards their room. He felt a chill race through him, and made up his mind that even if she asked, he would not extend her stay another night. In the morning, he would make sure both she and her son were gone.\n\n#  Chapter 2\n\nJason Collick stood motionless in his motel room.\n\nHis mouth was curled in a disapproving frown, and his eyes twitched as they darted back and forth between various corners of the room. He rubbed his hands together, feeling the uncomfortable sweat in his palms as he tried to control the shudders racing through his body. He had stood in the same position for almost an hour, bag resting gently against his leg, the suit he was wearing forcing beads of sweat down his nape and back.\n\nIt's filthy.\n\nThe single light above his head did little to hide what his eyes were quickly picking out. There, in a corner, a discarded napkin just below the left leg of the bed. Above it, a light stain that had not been properly washed out of the sheets, strategically tucked under the pillow to mask its presence. The small bathroom reeked of a mix of bleach and something a little more pungent, just below the surface, but enough to make his nose twitch.\n\nHe quickly reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a small bottle of hand sanitizer. He continued his scrutiny of the room as he squeezed the cold liquid into one hand and returned the bottle back into its designated place. He rubbed his hands together, squeezing the liquid in between his fingers as if this would somehow also clean the room around him.\n\nI can't sleep here.\n\nJason took a step towards the bathroom and immediately recoiled when he saw the specks of dust bursting into the air around his foot, small particles that threatened to invade his lungs and clog his breathing. His frown deepened into a disapproving scowl. He took off his suit jacket and folded it carefully, placing it on top of his carry-on as he slowly undid the buttons of his cuffs and rolled up his sleeves.\n\nHe forced himself to cross the room and into the bathroom, quickly turning on the water. The faucet coughed sprouts of brown water, forcing Jason to gag, before a stream of clear liquid rushed out and into the porcelain sink. Jason covered his mouth with the back of his hand, closed his eyes and tried to stop himself from heaving. He took a few quick breaths before feeling his muscles relax a bit, and hurried back to his bag. In the outside pocket, he pulled out a small towel and returned to the bathroom, rinsing it out before using it to clean the faucet and sink.\n\nBeads of sweat collected on his brow as he worked, his teeth clenched as he wiped off every surface of the bathroom, eyes watering at the strain caused by the fluorescents above his head. When he was finally done, he switched the lights off and sat down heavily on the edge of the small bathtub, breathing deeply, letting the surrounding darkness soothe him.\n\nYou can't sleep in the bathroom. Get to work!\n\nJason walked out of the bathroom and methodically began wiping down the small table and chair pushed up against the large motel room window. He had pulled down the drapes the minute he had walked in. He had wanted a room on the second floor, away from the prying eyes of the other guests. The man at the front desk – the disgusting man that smelt like cigarettes and alcohol – had told him that this was the only one available, and although Jason had accepted it, he wasn't happy.\n\nJust one night. You're only here for one night.\n\nJason heaved his bag on top of the table, unzipped it and pulled out the spare sheets he kept for emergencies like these. In a side pocket, he grabbed a pair of surgical gloves. Within seconds, he had stripped the bed of the filth that had been covering it, and replaced it with his own sheets. He continued to work, wiping down the small commode and bedside table, and hesitating before deciding to clean the mirror as well.\n\nA loud thump sounded from above, and Jason hissed at a cloud of dust that freed itself from the ceiling lamp as it began to sway gently. His eyes watched the small particles diffuse through the air, cursing as they slowly fell on top of the furniture he had just wiped clean. A second thump followed, and more dust blew out.\n\nJason fought the urge to race up to the second floor, kick down the door to the room above and throttle whoever was up there. His fists curled and he quickly closed his eyes and began counting to ten. He tried to control his breathing, and clenched his teeth tight when a third thump sounded.\n\nHappy place. Find the happy place.\n\nSuddenly, the darkness behind his lids gave way to a clear blue sky, cloudless and calm. Jason could feel the sand beneath his feet and hear the sound of crashing waves in the distance. A child was laughing somewhere in the background, and although Jason wanted to turn and see where the sound was coming from, he couldn't tear his eyes away from the clear blue above him. He instantly felt his muscles relax, and his breathing slowed to a gentle inhale and exhale that made him smile.\n\nHis therapist had walked him through this, taught him how to find the beach and clear skies whenever he felt that the world around him was too much to handle. Before that, he had taken his rage out on anyone or anything he could get a hold of; a lawsuit quickly waking him up to the fact that he did, indeed, need help. It had taken months to master the technique, to learn how to shut out each and every stimulus from the outside world. It had come in handy more times than none.\n\nJason opened his eyes. The thumping had stopped, and it didn't seem like there would be anymore. He sighed, allowing himself a quick smile before he remembered the dust and its deliberate dance through the air before settling on the surfaces around him. Jason clenched his fist, frowned and marched back to the bathroom to rinse his towel.\n\nHe was going to have to clean everything all over again.\n\n***\n\nPatrick Lahm felt a lot better as he stepped out from under the shower. Wiping the fog off the mirror, he quickly ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to comb it into place. He immediately resented not going back for his bag when Harold had picked him up, right now wishing he had access to a clean towel and his brush. However, it was just for tonight, and the hot shower had done him some good anyway.\n\nHe walked out of the bathroom and frowned as he watched the rain falling outside. The storm was relentless, and he hated being stranded with no connection to the outside world. Still, he doubted there would be anyone out and about in this weather, and he felt a little safer about having had left his car behind.\n\nHe reached into his laptop bag and pulled out a charger, hooking it up to his cellphone and waiting a few minutes before switching it on. He lay back on the bed as the sing-song tone of the phone starting up filled the small room, and he sighed heavily when he noticed the absence of signal bars.\n\nStill no coverage.\n\nPatrick placed the phone on the bedside table and tried to forget about it, frustrated that he couldn't even reach his agent and let him know he would be late. A part of him had hoped there would be some way to postpone tomorrow's event, but apparently that was out of the question. He had been looking forward to this signing for months, his first tour since the trials. He would have laughed at the irony if his mood hadn't been so foul.\n\nHe sat up and reached for his laptop. Logging in, he clicked open a new document and gazed at the virtual white page in front of him. It was almost midnight, and despite the fact that he had wanted to wake up early the next morning and be on his way, he couldn't fight the urge to try and write. He silently hoped that maybe the weather could spark a little inspiration, that some good might come out of the situation he was in.\n\nThe cursor blinked in front of him, waiting, teasing, as if secretly knowing no matter how hard he tried, Patrick would not be able to write worth a damn tonight. Just like every other night. He bit his lower lip, calling on his mind to throw up anything he could use, some random idea he could just go with for a few pages to assure him he had not lost it completely. He was drawing blanks, though, and after a few more minutes of nothing, he was forced to admit failure and frustratingly slam the laptop shut.\n\nHe lay back down on the bed, noting the time on his cellphone and briskly looking at the empty bars before sighing and switching off the bedside lamp.\n\n***\n\n\"It's good.\"\n\nPatrick looked up at his editor and smiled. \"Really?\"\n\n\"Really,\" his editor nodded. \"It's been a while, man, but looks like you finally came through.\"\n\nPatrick's smile widened as he stood up and let out a long breath. He chuckled as his editor laughed along with him, tapping the manuscript sitting on the desk between them.\n\n\"Not sure about the title, though,\" his editor said. \"A little too macabre for your readers.\"\n\nPatrick waved. \"Change it,\" he said quickly. \"Do whatever you want with it.\"\n\nHis editor laughed and reached for his cigarettes. \"Well done, buddy.\"\n\nPatrick nodded and ran a hand through his hair. Seven months. It had taken him seven months to finally get the manuscript ready, his newest work after a four-year hiatus that left him dry and threatened to end his contract. He had sent it in with a heavy heart, unsure if it would be a good enough follow-up to his last bestseller, and had waited patiently for his editor to get back to him.\n\n\"This is very good news,\" Patrick said. He felt lighter, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. \"Real good news, man.\"\n\nHis editor nodded between puffs of smoke as he lazily flipped through the manuscript's pages. \"Your style's changed a lot, though.\"\n\nPatrick felt his muscles tighten. \"Is that a good or bad thing?\"\n\n\"It's definitely better,\" his editor smiled. \"I just hope the fans appreciate it.\" He closed the manuscript and gazed up at Patrick. \"Then again, I guess they'll just be happy you've released anything at all.\"\n\nPatrick laughed and paced around the small office, shaking his legs and trying to work the knots out of his muscles. He hadn't known how stressed out he was until this very moment.\n\n\"When do we go into print?\" Patrick asked, eager to get the process started.\n\n\"Well, there are a few edits that need to be tackled first, nothing too serious, and then we're good for business,\" his editor replied. \"I'm thinking two weeks, depending on how fast you get the revisions done.\"\n\n\"Tonight,\" Patrick cut in. \"You'll have all the revisions done tonight.\"\n\nHis editor laughed. \"In a hurry, are we?\"\n\nPatrick smiled weakly. \"I'm just happy it's done.\"\n\n\"Took a lot of effort, this one?\"\n\nPatrick puffed. \"A whole lot of effort,\" he said. \"Put my heart and soul into it.\"\n\nHis editor frowned. \"Really?\"\n\nPatrick nodded.\n\n\"Funny,\" his editor said as he put out his cigarette and flipped through the manuscript again. \"Seeing as you haven't written a single word of it, I find that hard to believe.\"\n\n\"Excuse me?\" Patrick asked, his editor's words like a cold hand around his neck.\n\n\"You didn't write this, Patrick,\" his editor looked up at him. \"You don't expect me to believe this is you, do you?\"\n\n\"What are you talking about?\"\n\n\"Oh, come on,\" his editor laughed and sat back in his chair. \"You can fool the world, buddy, but not me!\"\n\nPatrick was about to say something when his editor stopped him. He watched the man reach out and rip off the cover page of the manuscript, then quickly circle Patrick's name below the title. He raised the sheet up for Patrick to see.\n\n\"Does this name deserve to be here?\"\n\nPatrick frowned in anger, unsure of how he was supposed to respond. His editor laughed and reached for the rest of the manuscript. Grabbing it in one hand, he bent over the small metal bin next to his desk, took out his lighter, and set the pages to flame.\n\n\"Hey!\" Patrick shouted.\n\nHis editor dropped the manuscript into the bin and laughed again. \"You're a fraud, Patrick,\" he said between chuckles, \"and one day, you're going to have to confess to your sins.\"\n\n\"What?\" Patrick asked, shaking his head in dismay as he reached for the metal bin.\n\nThe fires had died out, and just as he was about to reach inside to grab what was left of his story, the editor kicked the bin over. Patrick jumped back as millions of spiders crawled out of the bin, racing across the bright blue carpet of his editor's office, randomly scurrying in various directions. They were huge, the size of Patrick's palm, and of a dark black color that he was sure would have made them invisible if in a darker setting. Some made their way towards him, and he quickly stepped back and away, stepping on one that had been a bit faster than the others and had tried to crawl up his leg.\n\nPatrick looked up at his editor in horror. \"What is this?!\" he screamed at him.\n\nHis editor was laughing. \"Confess, Patrick,\" he cried out. \"Confess and all will be forgiven!\"\n\nPatrick watched as the man threw his head back in merriment, his laugh almost manic as it echoed through the office. He was rocking right and left in his chair, his hands white as they gripped the sides while he swiveled.\n\nSuddenly, the laughing stopped, and from the editor's open mouth, more spiders began to crawl out. Dozens of legs and bodies, one after the other, scurrying down the man's face and body as they raced to join their comrades.\n\n\"Confess,\" his editor gurgled.\n\nPatrick raced for the door, wrestling with the knob as he tried to open it. It wouldn't open. Patrick looked over his shoulder as the arachnids grouped together and purposely moved towards him, a black carpet of moving legs that seemed to bulge and grow before him. Patrick stomped on a few more, but he was quickly overwhelmed by the sheer number of them as they raced into his pants and up his legs.\n\nPatrick smacked at them, kicking out as he tried to rid himself of the millions of legs racing across his skin. But, there were too many, and in his panic, he toppled over and onto the floor. He screamed out in a mix of rage and terror, and through his open mouth, the first of many spiders crawled in.\n\n#  Chapter 3\n\nPatrick sat up in bed, screaming out at the empty motel room.\n\nThe darkness was overbearing, and he quickly reached out and turned on the lamp beside him. In an instant, he was out of bed, smacking at his naked body, unable to shake off the feeling of tiny legs scurrying all over him.\n\nHe raced into the bathroom, quickly turning on the shower head and jumping under the water. He didn't bother with adjusting the temperatures, and immediately felt better once the cold water raced over him. He stood under the shower for a few more minutes, letting the aftereffects of the dream wash away as he tried to steady his breathing.\n\nIt felt so real, the meeting with his editor, the laughter still echoing in his head. It was as if he had actually been there, living it all. He felt a shudder race through him and he ran his hands across his body, trying to wash off the memory.\n\nWhen he felt calmer, Patrick stepped out from under the water and gazed at himself in the mirror. His eyes grew wide as he noticed dozens of red spots across his torso, stretching from his neck down to his crotch and thighs. He ran a finger across one of the spots and winced in pain. He quickly made his way out of the bathroom and to the bed, squinting in the weak light as he checked for insects in the sheets.\n\nThe bed was clean.\n\nPatrick reached for his clothes, scrutinizing the bite marks on his skin once more before pulling on his jeans and shirt. He grabbed his cell phone, noting the time and realizing that it hadn't changed since he had fallen asleep. The rain outside was still coming down strong, the night starless through the open window, and Patrick frowned in annoyance that he hadn't been able to sleep through it all.\n\nA drink. I need a drink.\n\nPulling on his coat, he pocketed his cell phone and made for the door, looking over his shoulder once more at the bed and shaking off the residual feeling of spiders crawling across his skin. Once outside, the steady hammering of the rain calmed him down, and he smiled despite himself at the figure of Harold Bell leaning against the railing and smoking a cigarette.\n\n\"Couldn't sleep?\" Harold asked between puffs.\n\nPatrick shook his head and gestured to the cigarette, an eyebrow raised.\n\n\"A guilty pleasure,\" Harold smiled back. \"I couldn't sleep either. Hoped the rain and a stick of cancer might do the trick.\"\n\n\"How about a drink?\" Patrick asked.\n\nHarold put out his cigarette, wiped his hand together and smiled widely. \"You read my mind.\"\n\nPatrick chuckled and threw an arm over the man's shoulder. \"Just make sure you include me in your prayers, Father.\"\n\n***\n\nJimmy Frey watched the two men across the landing laugh and walk towards the stairwell. He didn't know them, but already made up his mind about how he felt towards each. He liked the taller one, the one with brown curls and the plaid shirt. He seemed like a reasonable man, one who would be able to see through the darkness and make sense of the confusion that was to come. He seemed like someone who could break free of the shackles that would imprison the rest of the guests here.\n\nThe priest, though. Well, that was a different story. Jimmy was immediately suspicious of the man, even in his holy attire, black hair combed back carefully and meticulously. When Jimmy had first stepped out of the room to enjoy the rain, the priest's figure had been shrouded in darkness, as if the holy man were a part of the night itself. Jimmy had shuddered just looking at the silhouette of the man, lighting his cigarette and leaning into the rain.\n\n\"You shouldn't be outside.\"\n\nJimmy turned to look at his mother standing in the open doorway to their room. Her eyes were sunken, and even in the scant light coming from behind her, she looked exhausted. He felt instantly sorry for her, wishing he could do anything to ease her pain, but knew that was beyond him. There was only so much he could do.\n\n\"Give me a minute,\" Jimmy replied, smiling at her.\n\nTara smiled back weakly and nodded, walking back inside but leaving the door open for him to follow.\n\nJimmy leaned over the railing and watched as the two men hurried through the rain, disappearing around the corner. He sighed heavily, gazing up at the sky as the rain splattered his face, and trudged back after his mother.\n\n***\n\nThe Kurtain Motel was not known for being a homey place. People usually passed by the establishment without a second thought, quickly ignoring the welcome sign and opting to continue on their way rather than risk stopping. Almost in the middle of nowhere, at least ten miles away from the closest town. It sat eerily at the side of the highway, a beacon of dismay rather than hope.\n\nWhat it had to offer was even less appealing.\n\nThe bar was a flimsy looking structure, nestled too close to the pool, its neon lights flickering on and off. It reminded Patrick of the old diner his mother used to work in, where he had been dragged to as a child almost every night to sit and color in one corner while she attended to a handful of guests. He immediately hated the damn thing, before even stepping in.\n\n\"As alluring as the motel itself,\" Harold said, voicing Patrick's thoughts.\n\nPatrick nodded as they pushed through the door, immediately welcomed by a strong aroma of dampness and fried food. Patrick wrinkled his nose, making an effort not to gag. The bar was small, a few rickety tables strewn here and there coupled with stained, plastic chairs. Patrick noted an overweight woman sitting to one corner, three plates in front of her and a full mouth chewing slowly as she watched them enter. Patrick smiled at her, hoping he didn't look too uncomfortable and made his way to the bar with Harold close behind him.\n\n\"Didn't expect anyone out in this weather,\" the bartender grinned at them, placing two napkins in front of Patrick and Harold before going for one of the few bottles behind him. His hair fell in curls to his shoulders, and his goatee was as unkempt as the rest of him. To Patrick, it seemed like the man must have spent the night sleeping behind the bar.\n\n\"Get a lot of guests on normal days?\" Patrick smirked, taking note of the name 'Connor' printed on the back of the bartender's shirt just below the Kurtain Motel logo.\n\n\"Depends on what you call normal,\" Connor chuckled. \"The Kurtain isn't a popular stop anyway.\"\n\nThe man placed two glasses of whiskey in front of them and waited for their approval. Patrick raised his glass, took a sip and relaxed against the liquor's initial hit. \"Good choice,\" he commented and glanced at Harold who was still eyeing the drink in front of him suspiciously.\n\n\"Want me to get you something else?\" Connor asked Harold, who quickly looked up, smiled and shook his head.\n\n\"I'm quite fine,\" Harold chimed. \"It's just funny how you guessed I would order this.\"\n\n\"Not a guess at all,\" Connor smiled. \"It's all we have right now. That and water. We haven't restocked in a while.\"\n\nPatrick laughed and downed the drink, pushing his glass forward and pointing at it for a refill as he winced. \"Fill her up, buddy.\"\n\nAs he waited, Patrick glanced past Harold at the only other guest sitting at the bar beside them. With a baseball cap pulled down over his eyes, Patrick could barely make out the man's features, other than the athletic form of his upper body and arms as he cradled his own glass of whiskey. The man seemed almost embarrassed to be here, and Patrick wondered how many other guests in the motel had been stranded in this shithole because of the weather.\n\nNot that Patrick could blame the man. From behind him, he could hear the mix of shuffling paper and chewing coming from the woman in the corner. The bar's foul aroma was slowly dissipating; either that or Patrick's nose was getting used to the stench. The lights were dimmed down in an attempt to make the atmosphere seem cozy, but all it did was add to the distaste Patrick felt towards it.\n\n\"So where were you off to before the storm hit?\" Connor asked, placing the refill in front of Patrick.\n\n\"A book signing in Hartford,\" Patrick answered. \"The good Father here picked me up when my car broke down.\"\n\nHarold raised his own glass and smiled sheepishly.\n\n\"A night of celebrities,\" Connor whistled.\n\n\"Really?\"\n\nConnor nodded and leaned in closer. \"Guy at the end of the bar, one with the cap?\"\n\nPatrick had half the mind to remark that the man was hard to miss, seeing as no one else was in the bar, but held it in. His ex-wife had always told him that his worst enemy was his own tongue, and Patrick was learning the hard way that she had had a point.\n\n\"What about him?\" Harold asked.\n\n\"That's Cameron Turk,\" Connor whispered, his eyes wide as if he had just shared the most important secret in the world.\n\nHarold frowned and shook his head, and Patrick was forced to smile. \"Baseball, Father,\" he said. \"The boy's a rising star in the Connecticut Tigers. They say he throws one hell of a curveball.\"\n\nConnor nodded excitedly. \"He's got talent, that one. Might even see him play for the Red Sox or Yankees one day.\"\n\n\"He's been absent for a few games, though,\" Patrick frowned, suddenly understanding the need for the pulled down cap and secrecy. \"Some scandal about drugs?\"\n\nConnor scoffed. \"Don't believe everything you hear on the news.\"\n\nPatrick shrugged and took a sip from his drink, briefly looking over his shoulder at the woman busy licking the meat of her drumsticks. She looked up at him for the briefest of seconds before returning to her meal, obviously deciding her food was worth more attention than he was.\n\nPatrick turned back and gestured to the woman with his head. \"Is that our other celebrity?\" he asked. \"Pie-eating champion of the world?\"\n\nConnor gave him a disapproving loom before shaking his head. \"Nah,\" he clicked his tongue. \"The room across from here. Diana Bren.\"\n\n\"The actress?\"\n\n\"Yup,\" Connor eased back into his child-like smile.\n\n\"What the hell's she doing out here?\" Patrick shook his head incredulously. \"She's a long way from LA.\"\n\n\"Heard she's shooting a new film up in Canada,\" Connor said. \"Manager was telling me that she's booked herself the room for a week. Guess she isn't in much of a hurry.\"\n\nPatrick had always enjoyed the romantic comedy flops that recently littered the young actress's career, an important part of his ritualistic mind-numbing routine at the end of slow writing days. And although he wasn't much of a baseball fan, he had been slightly interested in Cameron Turk's career, especially with the recent, drug-related rumors. Suddenly, the Kurtain Motel was starting to become a lot more interesting.\n\n\"You wouldn't happen to have a working cellphone, would you?\" Harold suddenly asked, apparently bored with the celebrity chatter.\n\nConnor shook his head. \"Everything's down because of the rain,\" he said. \"Television isn't working. Even my damn watch stopped ticking since midnight.\"\n\nHarold nodded. \"Mine, too,\" he mumbled.\n\nPatrick took out his cellphone and noticed that it too had stopped at twelve am on the dot, and wondered if maybe he had actually slept a lot longer than he had initially assumed. The thought brought back images of his nightmare, and he quickly downed his drink in an attempt to wash the memories away.\n\nConnor filled the glass up again.\n\n***\n\nGina Andrews finished her last drumstick and looked up at the men at the bar just as they broke out into laughter. She felt her cheeks flush, the taste of hot sauce in her mouth mixed with a bitter taste of self-pity and paranoia.\n\nThey're not laughing at you.\n\nShe knew that. Of course she did. Still, it didn't help ease the tightness in her chest as she caught the man on the left quickly look at her before turning back to his friend and laugh. It felt like high school all over again, and she instantly dropped the drumstick in her hand onto her plate and wiped her mouth with the cuff of her sleeve.\n\nShe fought the urge to just get up and race back to her room, hide behind the closed door where she was safe and away from the scrutinizing eyes of strangers. She didn't have to escape anymore, she knew that. She had faced the laughs and jeers throughout her entire life, and she didn't have to do that anymore.\n\nGina had learned to focus her anger and push her bottled up emotions into her work, desperate to show the world that they were wrong about her. After she had made her first million, no one was laughing anymore. No, they were all polite and uneasy smiles, crawling around her and groveling for whatever scraps she would throw to them.\n\nYet, old habits die hard, and she sometimes felt like that seventeen year-old girl who had to hide behind the bleachers just so she could enjoy recess without being harassed. It didn't help that her small-town personality made her seem like a push-over, her girlish locks forcing people to treat her like a doormat until they realized who she was. She couldn't help being nice even in the face of sneers and ridiculous innuendos about her weight.\n\nWatching the men at the bar laugh that way, so very similar to the laughs she had had to endure all her life, made her want to order another plate of drumsticks. Gina resisted, though; a small voice in the back of her head telling her that ordering more food would only make this feeling worse. She didn't want to have to look into the bartender's eyes as he brought her the food, his gaze reflecting what every man thought whenever they looked at her.\n\nCute. If only she were thinner.\n\nHer cellphone suddenly rang, a shrill sound that echoed loud in the otherwise quiet bar. The men at the bar turned to look at her, and she felt her stomach clench with insecurity. She quickly reached for her phone and silenced it just as she noted her mother's number flashing on the screen. She swiped at the red decline button, unwilling to face another torrent of berating, and slid her phone back into her over-sized purse.\n\nShe looked up just as the taller man from the bar walked up to her table.\n\n\"Excuse the intrusion,\" Patrick said, flashing Gina a smile, \"but is your phone working?\"\n\nThey always want something.\n\nGina felt her fists clench and heat rise into her cheeks. She returned Patrick's smile as best she could and nodded.\n\n\"It's just that none of us have coverage,\" Patrick continued, gesturing towards his friend at the bar, \"and I need to make an urgent call. Is it okay if I use your phone? I'm willing to reimburse you for the call.\"\n\nGina wanted to snap at him and tell him that she didn't need his money, but her instincts took over and her smile widened. \"Of course,\" she said, handing him her cellphone.\n\nPatrick thanked her and quickly dialed his agent's number, briefly noticing the logo on the phone's wallpaper. It looked oddly familiar, something he had seen on multiple occasions before, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He was about to ask Gina about it when he heard the monotonous beeping of a busy signal.\n\nPatrick frowned in frustration and cursed when he saw the empty bars. He tried again, and when he got the same response, handed the phone politely back to Gina and smiled.\n\n\"I guess it's just my luck,\" Patrick said. \"No bars.\"\n\nGina looked at her phone, confused when she saw that all four bars were full and that she had full coverage, and pocketed her phone. She was starting to feel very uncomfortable and wanted this small encounter to end as soon as possible.\n\n\"Sorry,\" Gina said. \"Must be the weather.\"\n\n\"I guess so,\" Patrick said, smiling at Gina once more before returning to the bar.\n\nGina watched him walk away and let out a long sigh, her heart thumping in her chest. She quickly gestured to the bartender and reached for the menu.\n\nShe was suddenly very interested in dessert.\n\n#  Chapter 4\n\nDiana Bren was furious.\n\nThe fact that filming had been postponed for a few weeks was one thing, but the fact that she was held up in this motel made her even angrier. She had immediately wanted to drive back home, give the producers the finger and tell them to find someone else as their leading lady. Yet, she knew she couldn't do that.\n\nIn the past three months, she had given up a lot of roles, taking her manager's advice and holding it for the big game. She was sick of her previous movies, films she knew meant nothing to the general public other than fluff. She didn't want to be the girl-next-door forever, and this particular opportunity promised to be a change from the usual. She would finally be able to show her true talents, prove to the world that she was more than just a pretty face.\n\nInitially, she had been reluctant to film in Canada, her Arizona roots mixing well with California's weather. She had made a name for herself, albeit a small one, in Hollywood, and she knew that maintaining a lavish lifestyle in the midst of all the other stars was the only way to move up. Canada for six months meant missing out on some of the most important events of her career. Still, the movie was worth it, 'Oscar material' her manager had promised, and she had pushed her worries aside.\n\nNow she was stuck in the middle of nowhere, stranded for a week in a shabby motel where no one would recognize her and she could wait for the call that they were ready for her. She had half a mind to sue them for her discomfort.\n\nDiana looked out the motel room window at the rain outside and frowned. She hated the New England weather, a precursor of what to expect when she finally reached Canada. Not only was she immobile, she couldn't even enjoy the scant amenities the place provided. She eyed the pool longingly, raindrops forming dozens of ripples across the water's surface and blocking out the already dim lights.\n\nShe reached for her phone, looking to distract herself from her predicament and uneasiness, and tossed it angrily aside when she noticed the empty bars. She couldn't even escape online, and for a few seconds, the muscles in her body tensed in anger. She looked out at the pool again, weighing her options, and stood up in determination.\n\nScrew this.\n\nDiana opened her bag and pulled out her bikini. She vaguely remembered the man at the desk warning her about swimming in the pool at night, and decided that she didn't care. Besides, she rarely took advice from men who spent more time staring at her chest rather than her face. If she was going to be staying here for a week, she was damn well going to make the best out of it.\n\nShe stripped out of her clothes and pulled on the bikini, puffing as she tied the straps and adjusted the bra. If the little pervert was going to say anything to her about swimming at night, she was ready to give him a piece of her mind. Grabbing the room keys, she slipped into her flip-flops and stepped out into the night.\n\nThe rain seemed to pick up, and a short gust of wind sent shivers through her body. Diana hugged herself, as she looked out from the cover of the canopy into the night sky. For a split second, she wondered if maybe she was being a little too rash, that she would probably get pneumonia pulling off a stunt like this, but quickly pushed the thought away. If she hadn't taken risks, she probably would have still been in Arizona.\n\nDiana stepped out into the rain, the cold drops making her flinch as she marched towards the pool. She glanced at the adjacent bar, secretly hoping no one would come out and try to stop her before she reached her destination. She rushed past the small gate, careful not to slip on the wet surface, kicked her flip-flops off and dove into the water.\n\nThe cold was refreshing, instantly hitting her and pushing away all her anger and frustration. She stayed under the surface, kicking her feet and propelling herself deeper into the center of the pool before finally surfacing. Smiling as she closed her eyes, she turned her face upwards into the falling rain and shifted her weight so she was floating lazily on the surface. Diana immediately felt a lot better.\n\n***\n\n\"What do you mean you have to go? You don't have to do anything!\"\n\nDiana stared at her boyfriend angrily. Three years and it was still as if he knew nothing about her. She crossed her arms and gazed at him impatiently, her open bag still half-packed with her plane ticket strewn on the bed beside it.\n\n\"This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, Jack,\" Diana said, her tone measured. \"How do you not see that?\"\n\nJack shook his head angrily and threw his hands in the air. \"What the hell are you talking about?\" he yelled.\n\nDiana couldn't reply. She knew what she wanted to say, but it was clear anything that came out of her mouth would just go over his head. She hated Jack when he was like this, face all red, eyes popping out and the vein in the middle of his forehead pulsating. She could try to reason with him all she wanted, but in the end, he would only hear what he wanted to hear.\n\n\"You're throwing all of this away,\" he continued to yell, \"over some role in a B-movie that nobody will ever hear of!\"\n\n\"All of this?\" Diana scoffed. \"What exactly is this? What am I throwing away, in your opinion?\"\n\n\"Our life!\"\n\n\"What life?\" Diana yelled. \"You sell tires, I wait tables, and we can't even afford rent. Are you kidding me? What life?\"\n\nJack stared at her in shock, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.\n\n\"I've had it with this life, dammit!\" Diana yelled, suddenly feeling a lot better now that her true feelings were out in the open. It felt relieving to finally let it all out. \"I'm tired of waiting for someone to throw scraps at me just so I could get by. I have a chance to make something better of myself, and I'm not sitting back and watching it slip from my fingers.\"\n\nJack took a step back, shaking his head as he tried to register what he was hearing. Diana had never been open about how she truly felt about their living situation, a mutual agreement that had quickly spiraled out of control and had both of them staring into the abyss of life-long debt. He was clueless as to how bad things really were, oblivious to the bills and finances that he had quickly thrown into her lap to handle.\n\nAnd now that she was pregnant, things would only get worse. Diana knew that for a fact, and was certain he would not see it that way. Which was why she hadn't told him about the baby yet, and had decided early on that she wouldn't.\n\n\"I'm going to LA, Jack,\" she finally said, her voice dropping to a reasonable level. \"You're welcome to join me, but this isn't a negotiation.\"\n\nShe gazed back into his eyes, staring him down and waiting for a reply, unwilling to give in. When it was clear to him that she had made up her mind, he slammed his fist against the nearest wall and stormed out of the room.\n\nDiana waited until she heard the front door slam before letting out a loud sigh and relaxing. She looked at her bag and ticket, shuffled her hair and continued to pack.\n\n\"You shouldn't be here.\"\n\nDiana's head shot up at the sound of the strange voice cutting through the silent room. She looked around, clearly alone, and frowned in confusion.\n\n\"Lady, you shouldn't be here!\"\n\n***\n\nDiana's eyes flew open. She had drifted off in the water, and the hoarse sound of someone calling out to her had startled her. She kicked out instinctively, briefly swallowing cold pool water as she desperately tried to steady herself and stay afloat. She swam quickly to the edge of the pool, leaning out as she coughed and spat, gasping for breath.\n\nThe rain had stopped, and Diana shuddered at the crisp wind blowing against her wet skin. She looked over her shoulder, squinting at the silhouette of a man standing at the gate of the pool gazing at her intently.\n\n\"Can't you read?\" the man sneered, pointing at a washed-out sign hanging to one side of the gate. Diana didn't have to make out the words to know what it probably said. She had, after all, been warned.\n\n\"Just wanted to take a swim,\" Diana called out, feeling a little uneasy at how she couldn't make out the man's features. She wondered if he was another guest at the motel.\n\n\"And that couldn't wait til the mornin'?\" the man shot back. \"I ain't gonna drag your ass outta that pool if you're found lying face down in the water. Get y'self outta there!\"\n\nDiana clenched her teeth, feeling the anger inside her well up. \"How about you mind your own damn business and go find someone else to harass,\" she spat. \"I'll use the pool whenever I frigging feel like it.\"\n\n\"Whenever I friggin–\" the man mumbled under his breath, frantically opening the gate as he angrily stomped towards her. \"I don't know who the hell you think y'are, lady, but this 'ere place got rules, and you'll follow 'em or find some other motel to haul up in where they don't care about corpses in their water!\"\n\nDiana didn't recognize the man. He stood tall, his long hair matted against his face and neck, looking ridiculous in his oversized pants and shirt. Against the pool lights, he shared an uncanny resemblance with the scarecrow at her father's farm, and Diana almost laughed at the comical scowl on his face. She was far too angry to be amused, though, and the fact that the man was challenging her only added fuel to the fire.\n\nDiana pushed herself out of the pool and quickly stood up, staring into the man's wrinkled face and bracing herself against the strong stench of alcohol in his breath.\n\n\"I can buy this motel if I wanted to!\" Diana hissed.\n\n\"And you can make the rules then,\" the man scowled, pointing a long, gnarled finger at her. \"Until then, you's better follow the rules!\"\n\nDiana slapped the finger out of her face. \"I can have your job over this.\"\n\n\"You go right ahead, lady,\" the man replied. \"Tell Mr. Little that ol' Sal didn't let you swim in the pool after hours and we'll see what he'll say 'bout that.\" He smirked, and Diana fought the urge to slap the smile off his face.\n\n\"Fine,\" Diana pushed past the man, scrunching her nose against the smell emanating from his entirety and stormed away. \"We'll see who'll be smiling once I'm done with you.\"\n\n***\n\n\"Confess!\"\n\nJason Collick woke up with a start and he quickly pushed himself to a sitting position on the bed.\n\nThe room was dark, although he clearly remembered having had left a light on in the bathroom. He threw his legs over the side of the bed and felt around the cold floor for his slippers as he fumbled to turn on the lamp by his side. He found the knob, turned it and squinted against the sudden bright light.\n\n\"Confess!\"\n\nJason's head turned to where he believed the voice was coming from, but he was alone in his room. He stood up slowly, a sudden throbbing in his temples forcing him to flinch and shut his eyes against the pain. There was a soft ringing in his ears that was slowly rising in intensity, as if someone were controlling a knob and turning up the volume.\n\n\"Confess!\"\n\nThe voice was clear, even over the monotonous, ear-piercing sound inside his head. Jason raced for the bathroom, hands pressed against the sides of his head as his mind tried to determine what to deal with first, the pain or the inexplicable voice he was hearing in his empty room. The headache and ringing coupled together made it impossible for him to think straight, and he stabbed out against the medications he had lined up over the sink earlier on.\n\nHis eyes began to water as he desperately fumbled for the right bottle. When he found it, Jason quickly poured a pill out into one shaky hand and tossed it into his mouth. He didn't bother finding a cup, trained to swallow the pills without washing them down in case there was no clean water at hand. He staggered back against the bathroom wall and slid down to a sitting position as he waited for the effects of the pill to kick in.\n\nWhen the ringing finally stopped, when the throbbing disappeared, he finally opened his eyes and took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he was instructed to do. Within minutes, he was calm again, and he pushed himself to his feet and walked out of the bathroom. He went straight for the door and stepped out into the cold night, taking in deep breaths, inhaling and exhaling slowly, allowing his senses to relax.\n\nHe looked out across the motel parking lot, bending his head from side to side as he massaged the nape of his neck. He heard shouting and turned to watch two people arguing at the pool, one of them breaking away angrily and storming off. He closed his eyes, letting the cool wind soothe him, still unable to shake off the feeling of dread that came with the voice he had heard inside his room.\n\nConfess. Jason felt a shudder race through him.\n\n\"Quite a night.\"\n\nJason looked up. The old man leaning against the second floor railing was smiling down at him, a rolled-up cigarette in one hand as the other gave Jason a small wave.\n\n\"The rain brought a nice little breeze with it,\" the old man continued. \"Cleaned the skies, too. You could see the stars all clear and bright up there.\"\n\nJason frowned. \"Sure,\" he said.\n\n\"Name's Kurt,\" the old man said. \"Nice to meet you. Didn't catch your name.\"\n\n\"Are you in the room above mine?\" Jason asked.\n\nKurt Layton looked over his shoulder, then back down at Jason. \"I guess so.\"\n\n\"I want you to stop whatever it is you're doing up there that's making all that noise,\" Jason said, his tone rising. \"I can't sleep with all that crashing around.\"\n\nKurt shrugged and shook his head. \"No crashing around up here,\" he said. \"The arthritis keeps me pretty docile.\"\n\n\"Well, whatever it is you're doing, stop it,\" Jason said, \"or I'll report you to the front desk.\"\n\nJason didn't wait for a reply and hurried back into his room.\n\n#  Chapter 5\n\nCameron Turk almost slammed into Diana just as he was rounding the corner on his way to his room.\n\nHe had spent most of the night drinking, already buzzed beyond what he considered acceptable, and had his cap drawn down low over his eyes. He wasn't looking up, careful to keep his eyes on the pavement as he tried to steady his gait.\n\nThe petite actress would have instantly caught his eye had he been paying better attention. Cameron had no idea who she was, but a dripping wet, bikini clad blonde was definitely on the top of his list when it came to flirt conquests. Tonight, though, he was in no shape or mood to turn on the Cameron charm and whisk the pretty lady away to his room.\n\nBesides, it was important he keep a low profile.\n\nCameron had no idea whose idea it was that he stay hidden in this run-down motel, let alone how anyone had found it in the first place. All he knew was that, at the moment, it was best for him to stay away from the public eye until things at home had settled down. His manager had driven him out here personally, paid for two weeks in advance, and left with little more than a few warnings. He was to stay at the Kurtain Motel until they came for him.\n\nIt was probably one of the reasons his manager had taken his phone and left him without a car.\n\nThe first few days had been amiable enough. A working television kept him entertained for as long as he could stand reruns, and the front desk provided him with enough reading material to kill the long hours in between. When he was tired of both, there were always the pool and bar. Still, the days were getting to him, and all Cameron wanted to do was find someone to talk to.\n\nHe knew the bartender had recognized him, which really couldn't be helped. Cameron wasn't a celebrity, at least not yet, but the locals knew him well enough that the cap over his eyes would do little to mask his identity. Besides, how much of a threat could the bartender be? As long as Cameron made sure he didn't share too much information, then he was in the clear.\n\n\"Watch it!\" Diana hissed, pushing Cameron to a side as she stormed past him.\n\nCameron watched the woman make for her room and smiled to himself. A part of him was already imagining himself with her as he eyed her slim profile, her long legs ending just before one of the most attractive behinds he had ever seen. He imagined pulling the strings of her bikini top and undressing her, his hands racing up and down her slender back.\n\nSnap out of it!\n\nCameron shook his head and quickly pushed his fantasies to the back of his mind. He didn't need this right now. One of the main reasons he was here was to avoid temptation, the motel so far away from anything of interest that he would remain numb. He could already imagine his manager's disapproving look, scolding him and reminding him that this was not just a hideaway, but a form of rehab as well.\n\nCameron looked back at the blonde as she slammed her room door closed. He sniffed, pulling up the collar of his coat against the slight breeze and made his way to his own room. He would have to find some way to avoid her, although he doubted his capabilities in that. The light wasn't enough for him to get a good look at her, but what he had seen was enough to spark his interests, and that was never a good thing.\n\nCameron fumbled for his key and pushed into his room, carefully closing the door behind him in an attempt to prove to himself that he was more sober than drunk. He tossed his coat onto the chair by the window, stripped out of his pants and threw himself onto the bed. His head immediately began to spin and he felt his stomach turn. He quickly got up, steadying himself as his body began to sway dangerously, and took careful steps towards the bathroom.\n\nThe lights failed, Cameron's finger flicking the switch up and down to no avail. Deciding to rely on the light coming in from the room, he leaned against the sink's counter and turned the faucet.\n\nThe water that came out was thick, a dark brown color that looked uninviting in the dark. He bent lower, trying to take a closer look as he ran his hand under the liquid. It felt warm against his skin, and when he lifted his hand closer to the light, he realized that what he had mistaken for brown was a deep red.\n\n\"You killed me.\"\n\nCameron's head snapped up to his reflection in the mirror and his heart almost stopped.\n\nOver his left shoulder was the reflection of a woman, her hair matted against her head, her eyes hollow and dead. She opened her mouth and the same dark liquid poured out of the dark abyss between her lips in torrents.\n\nCameron instinctively jumped out of the bathroom, hurling himself across the threshold into the light of the rest of the room, crawling away quickly as he turned to look over his shoulder.\n\nThe woman followed, slowly, her naked body stained with the blood oozing out of her mouth, her bare feet leaving maroon footprints on the carpet.\n\n\"You killed me,\" she said, her voice barely audible, a gurgle of words that he should not have understood. Yet, he heard her well, and he stared in horror as her eyes bore into his, dark and menacing, her fingers twitching by her side as she moved closer.\n\n\"Confess!\" the woman hissed as she neared him, and Cameron quickly jumped to his feet. He was fully alert now, his stupor gone, and he raced for the door just as a hand grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.\n\n\"Confess!\"\n\nCameron could feel her breath against his ear and he punched out blindly, throwing his elbows behind him as he tried to shake her off him. His swings connected with nothing but air, and Cameron suddenly found himself stumbling backwards onto the floor. He looked up hurriedly, trying to make out where his attacker was, his eyes darting back and forth across the room.\n\nThe woman was gone.\n\n***\n\n\"That's me for the night,\" Patrick said, slamming a hand down on the bar. He stood up and stretched, quickly noticing that only he and Harold remained in the bar. \"Call it a night, Father?\"\n\nHarold smiled and raised his glass, only his second drink of the night in comparison to Patrick's five. \"If my biological clock is right, it's almost dawn,\" he said. \"I'll just wait it out. There's no sleeping for me now, anyway.\"\n\nPatrick took a few bills out of his wallet and pushed them to Connor. \"This should cover us both, buddy. Keep the change.\"\n\nConnor smiled at him and nodded.\n\nPatrick trudged out of the bar, tipsy and tired, already imagining himself lying face down in bed and sleeping like a log. He almost tripped on the two steps in front of the door and quickly steadied himself. The rain had stopped, and there was a slight chill in the air. He pulled on his jacket, dug his hands into the pockets and made his way to his room.\n\nHe turned the corner, watching his steps carefully, and began to climb the stairs when a shadow caught his eye and he looked up.\n\nJimmy Frey was sitting on the last step, arms around his knees and staring directly at him.\n\nPatrick felt his weight shift, and he quickly grabbed onto the banister to stop his fall. He chuckled as he shook his head, his heart pounding in his chest.\n\n\"You scared the hell out of me, kid,\" Patrick said, looking up at the boy and wondering what he was doing sitting at the top of the stairs like that anyway.\n\nJimmy didn't reply. Patrick suddenly felt very uneasy; the way the boy stared at him was unnerving.\n\n\"Where's your mom?\" Patrick asked.\n\nJimmy looked to his right, staring down the long hallway to the room he shared with his mother, then turned back to Patrick.\n\nPatrick couldn't tell what was worse, how the boy was staring at him or the fact that he was sitting alone in the middle of the night. He looked barely over ten, and sitting there, completely still, reminded Patrick of one of those Japanese horror movies. He took a tentative step back.\n\n\"If you want, I can walk you back to your room,\" Patrick suggested.\n\nJimmy shook his head slowly. \"You're needed down there,\" he said softly, his words barely audible.\n\nPatrick frowned. \"What do you mean?\"\n\nJimmy cocked his head to a side, a gesture that scared Patrick even more than when he was sitting still. \"He needs you,\" the boy said.\n\nThe door beside Patrick suddenly slammed open and Cameron Turk raced out into the night. Patrick jumped back, eyes wide as he watched Cameron stumble and fall. The baseball player scurried to his feet, racing forward only to stumble and fall again, this time rolling away.\n\n\"She's in there!\" Cameron was screaming, looking over his shoulders as he tried to run away from whatever was inside his room. His eyes caught Patrick and he frantically waved at him. \"Get away from there, man!\"\n\nPatrick shot a look back up at Jimmy, but the boy was gone.\n\nPatrick staggered away from the stairs, his eyes set on the open door. He tried to make out what it was that was scaring Cameron, but he couldn't see a thing from where he stood. He ventured a few tentative steps towards the room, and stopped immediately when Cameron yelled at him.\n\n\"What the hell are you doing, man? Get away from there!\"\n\nPatrick looked at Cameron, then back at the room. His instincts were telling him to listen to the man, to get as far away from the room as possible, but his body had a mind of its own. He continued forward, stepping closer to the room and slowly stepping in.\n\nThe room was empty. The lights were a lot dimmer than in his room, but there was still enough light to assure him that there was no one inside. Patrick took another step forward, and his eyes immediately fell on the bloody footprints near the bathroom. He wondered if they belonged to Cameron; maybe the man had cut himself on a shard of glass inside, but the prints looked far too small. Patrick felt the same chill race through him, and he slowly backed out of the room, unwilling to investigate anymore.\n\nA movement from the right caught his eye, and as he turned to see what it was, he froze.\n\nFrom under the bed, a dozen black spiders scurried out. Patrick watched in horror as they came, spreading out across the room like a black rug, hundreds of them, thousands, a non-stop torrent escaping from the darkness beneath the bed. They moved around haphazardly, crawling over each other, racing across the furniture and covering everything in their wake. It was as if they were swallowing the entirety of the room as they moved, and still they came.\n\nPatrick suddenly moved back, tripping over the threshold and falling down, arms flailing. He hit his head hard against the concrete, but the adrenaline kept him going, and he jumped up quickly. The spiders were racing towards the door, and Patrick raced forward, slamming the door shut and locking the arachnids inside.\n\nHe staggered back, putting as much distance between him and the room as possible, and only stopped when he bumped into Cameron.\n\n\"Did you see her?\" Cameron stammered, hysterical. \"She was right there, man. In the bathroom!\"\n\nPatrick shook his head, unable to make sense of what he had just witnessed. He had no idea what Cameron was talking about, but the spiders! It had been a nightmare. They weren't supposed to be in there. Nothing made sense, and Patrick quickly realized that he was losing his mind.\n\n\"She's in there, isn't she?\" Cameron asked, holding onto Patrick's arm like a child grasping onto their parent. \"She could come out, man. That door won't stop her.\"\n\n\"I didn't see anything,\" Patrick said, more to himself than to Cameron. His mind refused to believe what he had just seen.\n\n\"Man, are you blind?\" Cameron yelled. \"She was right there!\"\n\n\"No one's there!\" Patrick yelled, grabbing the man and shaking him. \"The room's empty!\"\n\n\"Then what the hell did you see?\" Cameron spat. \"What scared you so much?\"\n\nPatrick froze. He had no idea how to answer that. He glanced back at the bar, wondering if the commotion would have brought Harold and Connor out, but no one was running to their aid. Patrick's eyes darted across the other rooms, wondering why none of the other guests had come out to see what was happening.\n\nHe caught sight of a figure standing on the second floor, at the far end of the motel.\n\nJimmy Frey was leaning against the railing, watching them intently. If he had been affected by what was happening, it didn't show; he stood stoic and still in his place, arms crossed in front of him, and Patrick instantly heard his voice echo in his mind.\n\nHe needs you.\n\nPatrick stared back at the boy, the uneasiness he had felt before instantly returning. It was as if Jimmy had known what would happen, as if he were waiting to see how things would transpire, a spectator to some freak show.\n\nA few drops of rain startled Patrick, and suddenly the sky opened up and began to pour. The water instantly found its way into his coat, soaking the clothes beneath it, but his eyes never lost sight of the boy.\n\nThrough the torrents of rain, Patrick saw Jimmy nod at him and smile before pushing away from the railing and disappearing.\n\n#  Chapter 6\n\nOwen Little hated athletes. And if there was one thing he hated more, it was being woken up by an athlete.\n\n\"I'm not staying in that room one more night,\" Cameron was shouting, pointing a finger at Owen and sneering at him.\n\nOwen gazed at the man's finger and contemplated breaking it, clenching his teeth. He hadn't had a good night's sleep ever since his wife passed, tossing and turning in bed for hours until finally forced to give up completely and return to his post at the front desk. He hated the insomnia, and it made him edgy, all the time.\n\nTonight, though, he had fallen asleep almost immediately, and it agitated him that the much-needed rest had been interrupted by this raving lunatic.\n\nOwen smacked his lips, reaching for his smokes and patting down an empty pocket. He cursed to himself, looking at Patrick angrily.\n\n\"What was wrong with it?\" Owen asked, feeling like Lahm had a more sensible head on his shoulders.\n\n\"The room's haunted, man!\" Cameron yelled. \"Aren't you listening?\"\n\nOwen was listening, but nothing the jock said made any sense to him. Naked woman coughing up blood. It was ridiculous. He hadn't had a single incident in the motel since he and his wife had opened it up for business. If anything, it was more docile than the surrounding countryside let on.\n\nSometimes, Owen wished it were haunted. Sometimes, he hoped that someone would find a way to hang themselves in one of the rooms, or murder a prostitute, or maybe even an overdose of sorts. God knew the place needed a little spark. His wife had been against bad publicity, but Owen couldn't care less. Anything that brought crazy tourists and their money was fine by him.\n\nHowever, Owen was far too tired to put his thinking cap on and try to find some way to benefit from what was happening right now. To have Cameron Turk say that the Kurtain Motel was haunted would have been a great opportunity to jump on any other night. Tonight, though, Owen was close to slamming his fist in the man's face just to shut him up.\n\n\"I heard you the first time, Mr. Turk,\" Owen seethed. \"I'm asking your friend here to shed some more light on the situation.\"\n\nPatrick sighed, unable to fully comprehend what had happened, and unwilling to go into any details. All he wanted right now was for the night to be over so he could return to his car and get going. To him, this was all just a temporary hiccup, not a bit worth the trouble.\n\n\"Listen, you've got double rooms here, right?\" Patrick asked.\n\nOwen nodded.\n\n\"Great, just give me one of those and I could bunk with Cameron until the morning. Then you can change his room, or do whatever the hell you want.\"\n\nOwen gazed at Patrick for a moment, then at Cameron. The jock was visibly shaken, his eyes darting back and forth as he constantly looked over his shoulder.\n\n\"It's more expensive than a single,\" he said, reluctantly pulling the log ledger out and setting it in front of him.\n\n\"I'm not asking for an upgrade,\" Patrick said. \"Two singles for one double. If anything, you should owe me money.\"\n\nOwen shook his head and gestured at Cameron. \"His room's already paid for,\" he said. \"We don't do refunds.\"\n\n\"Fine.\" Patrick took out his credit card and handed it to Owen.\n\n\"Is your room haunted, too,\" Owen smirked, jotting down Patrick's name in the ledger.\n\n\"Hey, man, this isn't a joke, okay?\" Cameron shot.\n\n\"My room's fine,\" Patrick cut in, placing a hand on Cameron's shoulder to calm him down.\n\nOwen glanced up at Cameron and his smile widened, clearly amused. \"You're going to have to empty your rooms out.\"\n\n\"Little man, you need to listen,\" Cameron said through gritted teeth. \"I'm not going anywhere near that room, not tonight, not ever.\"\n\nOwen winked at Patrick, as if they were both in on the jest. \"Was the woman a blonde or a brunette?\" Owen asked. \"That might help me understand better.\"\n\n\"You son of a–\" Cameron launched himself at Owen, and Patrick hurriedly grabbed the man and pulled him away. Owen quickly staggered back, lifting his arms up and ready for a fight.\n\n\"Let go of me!\" Owen forcefully pulled away and pushed Patrick aside. \"Don't touch me!\"\n\nPatrick stepped up to Cameron, their faces so close he could smell the alcohol on the other man's breath. \"Calm down,\" Patrick hissed. \"I'm not exactly thrilled by this situation, but right now, I'm doing you a favor. I don't owe you anything. So, touch me again, and you're on your own.\"\n\nCameron stared back at Patrick, seething. \"Whatever, man,\" he said, pushing past Patrick. \"Just get the frigging keys.\"\n\nCameron stormed out of the small office, kicking at the small bench to one side before pacing back and forth angrily.\n\n\"Why are you putting up with him?\" Owen asked, returning to the ledger. \"You said it yourself, you don't owe him anything.\"\n\nPatrick shook his head and waved a hand. He had already made up his mind about Owen, writing the man off as a bastard if ever he had met one, and he didn't feel the urge to let him in on anything. Besides, how was he going to explain that he was doing this because a little boy had told him to?\n\nHe needs you.\n\nPatrick had no idea what that meant, but he was going to play along. He hadn't seen a dead woman in Cameron's room, but the spiders did not sit well with him. He tried to push the memory away, thinking that maybe he had just been hallucinating; a mix of alcohol and sleep deprivation. Yet, it didn't help him shake off the feeling of legs crawling all over him.\n\nTonight. Just tonight, and then I'm gone.\n\n\"Room 217,\" Owen said, handing over the key. \"I'm serious about clearing out your rooms.\"\n\n\"I'll get my stuff,\" Patrick took the keys and turned to leave. \"Cameron's room could wait until the morning.\"\n\n\"What the hell's really gotten the two of you so spooked?\"\n\nPatrick didn't answer, letting the door slam shut behind him.\n\n***\n\nGina Andrews ignored her phone.\n\nThe ringing was getting to her, and every time she silenced it, the call would stop and start all over again. She stared in dismay at the caller ID before silencing the phone another time, and sliding it under the pillow.\n\nThe ringing started again.\n\nGina quickly got out of bed and paced her room. She had tried getting some work done to help her sleep, but for some reason, she just wasn't tired. Even the endless sheets of numbers, documents she regularly found a complete bore, couldn't do the trick. On the contrary, she seemed more alert than not.\n\nShe glanced at her watch and frowned when she realized the hands hadn't moved since the last time she had taken a look. She shook her hand, bringing the watch close to her ear, and let out an agitated sigh when she couldn't hear any ticking. She sat down heavily on the only chair in the room and gazed out the window.\n\nWhy wasn't she sleeping? On any regular day, she would be curled up in a fetus position, covers wrapped around her, sleeping soundly until the first rays of light woke her up. It made no sense.\n\nThe phone began to ring again.\n\nGina pressed her hands against her ears to stop the sound of the incessant ringing. She was in no mood to answer her mother now, nor was she in any state to listen to another lecture about her running away from her responsibilities.\n\nShe toyed with the idea of calling her lawyer and having him write up the paperwork her mother had been begging her to do for years. Gina could just hand over the entire company, and give the old woman what she wanted so she could finally leave her alone. It wasn't like Gina was emotionally involved anymore. She couldn't care less whether the company succeeded or failed.\n\nWhat she really wanted was a break. A break from the responsibilities, the endless board meetings, the numbers, and most of all, a break from her mother. She had had it.\n\nThat's not why you're running.\n\nNo, it wasn't. Gina had to admit that to herself sooner or later, but right now was neither the time nor place for it. She needed to think, to get away and be with herself, and the Kurtain Motel was hardly the place for it. If it hadn't been for the storm, she would have driven through the night all the way to Providence. Maybe even Cape Cod. It didn't matter. As long as it was far away from Long Island.\n\nThe phone rang again, and Gina jumped to her feet and stormed to it. She grabbed it and swiped the 'decline' button. Staring at the phone, she waited to see what her mother would do now, hoping she would get the message.\n\nWhen the phone didn't ring, Gina placed it down on the bed and sat back in her chair. If she couldn't sleep, then at least the rain would keep her company.\n\n***\n\nJason Collick swallowed another pill.\n\nThe buzzing had started again, this time in the back of his head until it became a low drone. The headache was unbearable, ricocheting across his scalp as if trying to find one spot where it could hurt him the most.\n\nJason turned on the water in the shower, fell to his knees, and aimed the nozzle on his head. He grasped onto the side of the bathtub until his hands turned white, eyes squeezed shut as he waited for any change in the agony he was feeling. The pain wouldn't let up, and Jason found himself falling to one side on the bathroom floor, clutching his head as the pain soared through.\n\n\"Confess!\"\n\nJason whimpered. He heard the voice, clear as day through the whirring and the pain, and he gently rocked on the tiled floor. There would be no rest tonight, he knew that. Although he needed the sleep, his meeting in the morning vital to the future of his company, it was obvious he would be spending the remainder of the night in his current position.\n\n\"Confess!\"\n\n\"What do you want?\" Jason screamed out, his voice echoing off the bathroom walls. He felt tears of pain build up behind his closed eyes.\n\nThe pain slowly started to subside, and he groped for the edge of the bathtub to pull himself to his knees. The buzzing continued, and although the sound irritated him greatly, he was grateful that it wouldn't be coupled with the headache any longer.\n\nThe thumping from upstairs started again, and Jason cursed out loud. He staggered out of the bathroom, reaching for his suit jacket as he considered making his way upstairs and giving the old man a piece of his mind.\n\nJason shook his head as the last remnant of the headache disappeared, and all he was left with was the drone of sound in his ears. He decided he would soldier through it, and with even more determination to pay the old man upstairs a visit, he reached for the doorknob.\n\n\"Pay your dues!\"\n\nJason froze.\n\n\"Confess, Jason!\"\n\nJason turned and gazed at the empty room. He was alone, yet the voice in his head was so clear, he could have sworn someone was standing right behind him.\n\n\"That was my daughter's college fund!\"\n\nJason frowned, suddenly realizing that the buzzing in his ears was something else entirely. It was voices, hundreds of them, talking at once, whispering in his ear and echoing through his head. He couldn't make out what they were saying, but every now and then, one of them would be clear enough for him to understand.\n\n\"You took everything from me!\"\n\nJason frowned, his hand frozen on the doorknob, his body suddenly very stiff. He strained to make out what the rest of the voices were saying, some of them almost familiar to him, yet he couldn't quite put a face to them. They were angry, threatening voices, and Jason could feel the chills race up and down his spine.\n\n\"I trusted you, you bastard!\"\n\nJason flinched. The voices were obviously just in his head. He was being paranoid, the lack of sleep obviously getting the best of him. Yet, the words stung, and with every accusation he could make out, he felt as if he were being stabbed. He pushed away from the door and trudged into the center of the room, the voices inside his head suddenly increasing in intensity and volume.\n\n\"My entire pension!\"\n\nThe headache suddenly returned, and Jason fell to his knees screaming. His hands immediately flew up and grasped his temples where he feared the pulsing blood would eventually force his veins to explode. The voices continued to come, some now more hysterical than others, and Jason could almost feel their hatred seep through him. He was engulfed by so much rage, his entire body seemed to be numb to anything else.\n\n\"Confess!\"\n\nJason suddenly fell forward, the world around him darkening as he blacked out.\n\n#  Chapter 7\n\n\"This is typical!\"\n\nPatrick tossed his jacket on the couch and folded his arms across his chest. He had been dreading this since the moment he realized just how far past his deadline he really was. Although his editor was a flexible guy, he knew the publishers weren't. And it wasn't as if he hadn't been warned, several times.\n\nStill, he had hoped he'd be done with his writing by now. Somewhere along the line, he had convinced himself that a few days of extra hours would help him achieve the desired word count. He was wrong, and the letter that his wife was waving around in the air was proof of that.\n\n\"I slave away, day in and day out, and all you have to do is sit at your desk and write!\" Janine shouted. \"A year, Patrick! A goddamn year!\"\n\nPatrick didn't need to read what was in the letter. He knew that the publishers had penalized his breech in deadline. He was a bit shaky on just how much the penalty was, but he was sure it was high enough to make Janine this angry. He couldn't bear to tell her that he wasn't even close to the required word count.\n\nActually, he hadn't written a word since his last book.\n\n\"For heaven's sake, Patrick, I could write a book in a year!\"\n\n\"Then maybe they should have given you the contract,\" Patrick replied, a small smile escaping him.\n\nJanine quickly crumbled up the letter and threw it at him. Their marriage was already on the rocks, one character flaw after the other suddenly getting on each other's nerves. After fifteen years and a son, they had just now realized that the small stuff did actually matter, and that the compromises each of them had made were too much to handle.\n\n\"Jokes! That's all I ever get from you!\" Janine yelled.\n\nPatrick was about to reply, but held back. He hated it when she got worked up like this, completely inconsolable and impossible to get through to. He had a hundred different excuses, things to say that would have gotten him out of this situation in the past, but he knew none of them would work. Not anymore. They were well past all that.\n\nBesides, in hindsight, he couldn't lie to himself anymore. He knew that his reasoning would only shut her up temporarily and push the fight to another day. The truth was, he didn't have the energy to feed her lies and make up stories.\n\n\"Is Jack asleep?\" he asked suddenly, his way of letting her know that he was not going to go through another night of yelling.\n\n\"We're not done here,\" Janine said through clenched teeth.\n\n\"Yes,\" Patrick said, walking away. \"We are.\"\n\nJanine stormed after him. \"Patrick Lahm, I'm talking to you!\"\n\nPatrick turned around angrily, his eyes shooting daggers at his wife, a gaze that made her stop in her tracks and her eyes open wide. \"Let it go,\" Patrick hissed.\n\nJanine's eyes stared back at him in shock for only a second before her frown reappeared and she returned his threatening gaze with one of her own. \"I'm not going to keep supporting this family while you sit at your desk and stare at your computer,\" she spat. \"I'm not going to do it.\"\n\nPatrick stared hard at her. \"I said, let it go,\" he warned.\n\nHe didn't wait for her to reply, leaving her behind as he took the stairs by twos and made his way to his son's bedroom. He knew this wasn't going to end well, that in the morning they would definitely pick up where they left off, but for now, he just wanted to reassure himself that not everything in his life had gone to hell.\n\nJack was awake, covers drawn to his neck and eyes open, staring at the ceiling. He barely looked at his father as he walked in, and Patrick could see tears in the boy's eyes. He had obviously heard everything, but only today did Patrick see just how much the constant bickering was affecting his son.\n\n\"Hey, buddy,\" Patrick greeted softly, sitting down on the edge of the boy's bed.\n\n\"Hey, dad.\"\n\n\"You doing okay?\"\n\nJack hesitated, his eyes staring at the ceiling. \"I'm alright.\"\n\nPatrick nodded solemnly, gazing about his son's room in an attempt to find something comforting to say.\n\n\"Are you getting fired?\"\n\nPatrick smiled. \"No, kiddo, I'm not getting fired. Your mother just likes to make a scene out of the little stuff.\"\n\n\"It didn't sound little,\" Jack said, now looking straight at his father.\n\nPatrick nodded and scratched the back of his head. \"Yeah, well, we all have our ups and downs, buddy.\"\n\n\"Is it because you can't write anymore?\"\n\nPatrick shook his head and squeezed his son's hand. \"I can write just fine. Hit a little speed bump, that's all.\"\n\n\"But doesn't that mean you'll lose your contract?\"\n\nPatrick hesitated. The thought had crossed his mind on more than one occasion, and he had desperately tried to push himself to write. The only problem was that nothing was coming out. The penalty was just the tip of the iceberg. Losing his contract meant starting from scratch, and it would be impossible to find another publisher once word got out that Patrick Lahm was all dried up.\n\n\"Don't worry about it. Your dad's always got a plan B.\"\n\n\"Why didn't you tell mom?\"\n\nPatrick frowned. \"Tell her what?\"\n\n\"About your plan B.\"\n\nPatrick chuckled. He struggled to find a way to explain to his son just how complicated these things were. \"It's not that simple, kiddo.\"\n\n\"Sure it is,\" Jack replied. \"Just tell her about the guy who sent you his manuscript to read.\"\n\nPatrick froze, his mind throwing up red flags as he fought to make sense of what his son was saying. He hadn't told anyone about that, and the only way Jack could have known was if he had been going through his computer.\n\n\"What manuscript?\" Patrick asked, playing the fool, knowing that the only way to get any information out of Jack was to tread carefully, lest the boy realize he had done something wrong and bite his tongue.\n\n\"Your fan,\" Jack replied. \"The guy you met at the bookstore, the one you gave your contact to when he told you about his book.\"\n\n\"How do you know about that?\"\n\n\"Why didn't you tell mom that you read his book and you're going to steal it?\"\n\nPatrick felt the room suddenly go very cold. \"What did you say?\"\n\n\"The book,\" Jack replied. \"The guy's book. Why didn't you tell mom you were going to send it to the publishers and say you wrote it?\"\n\nPatrick stood up quickly. \"Jack, that's absurd. I would never do such a thing.\"\n\n\"Sure you would,\" Jack said, pushing himself up to a sitting position. \"You're desperate. It's the only way.\"\n\nPatrick looked back to see if his wife was nearby to hear this, then gazed back at his son in shock. Was the boy reading his mind?\n\n\"Buddy, that's stealing,\" Patrick said.\n\nJack nodded. \"I know. It doesn't mean you won't do it.\"\n\n\"Of course I won't do it,\" Patrick almost yelled. \"How do you even know about that? Have you been going through my computer?\"\n\nJack smiled. \"You can lie to yourself, if you want, but you can't lie to me.\"\n\nPatrick took a step back from his son, his hands shaking slightly, his heart pounding in his chest.\n\n\"Confess, dad,\" Jack said, his voice changing, a much deeper, guttural sound. \"Confess!\"\n\nPatrick watched in horror as the boy's mouth opened and dozens of black spiders began to crawl out.\n\n***\n\nPatrick sat up in bed, sweaty and gasping for breath.\n\nThe television was still on, the program he had been watching long over and replaced by static. It was the only light in the room, and as Patrick tried to control his breathing, he looked around and noticed Cameron's empty bed.\n\nHe was alone.\n\nPatrick threw off the covers and set his feet down on the cold floor. He could hear the rain outside, falling heavily, a brief burst of thunder in the distance and a flash of lightening close behind. His mouth was extremely dry, burning as if he had been screaming in his sleep. He quickly made his way into the bathroom, turned on the water and drank.\n\nPatrick walked back into the room, switched on the small bedside lamp and turned off the television. He gazed out the large window at the night sky beyond and felt a shudder race through him. He glanced about the room quickly, half expecting the spiders of his dreams to come crawling out after him, but he saw nothing.\n\nHe couldn't shake off the dream. It felt too real, as if he had actually been living it, not just a spectator from afar. He remembered that night clearly, the fight with Janine that had finally led to the end of their marriage. Jack wasn't home that night. Janine had been careful to send him over to his friend's house so he wouldn't witness the argument. Patrick had to hand it to his ex-wife; she was good at keeping Jack away from their arguments.\n\nSo why did it feel so real?\n\nPatrick felt the temperature in the room drop, and before he could dwell on the question for too long, he grabbed his coat and stepped out.\n\nThe cold hit him hard, and the wind forced the rain to slap against his face. He was alone on the second floor landing, not that it surprised him much. Only a fool would be out of his room in this weather, and he began to wonder what the hell Cameron Turk was thinking. He contemplated where the man could be, the only logical conclusion being the bar, but Patrick doubted it would be open at this hour.\n\nWhatever this hour actually was.\n\nStill no coverage or time orientation, and Patrick was beginning to feel that something was seriously off. He glanced to his right at the only room with a light on, two doors down, and guessed that it probably belonged to the boy from earlier. He considered knocking on his door, then decided not to. If there was one freak show cliché, it was a knocking at your door during a storm. Besides, the boy's mother would probably not take too lightly to a complete stranger drenched in rain asking to speak to her son.\n\nPatrick pulled up his coat collar, braced himself and turned left, walking down the landing to his previous room and Harold's. If the priest was awake, it would provide some relief from how Patrick was feeling right now. The emotions he had felt in his dream still lingered, and try as he would, he just couldn't rid himself of the feelings of shock and terror that were coursing through him.\n\nHe rarely thought about his family these days. After their divorce, he and Janine had gone their separate ways. The custody battle had been horrendous, but Patrick had admitted to himself early on that his son was probably better off with his mother than with him. There wasn't much he could offer the boy anyway, and without Janine's support, Patrick had been forced to sell almost everything he owned until his last book came through.\n\nBut eventually, it had come through. And it hit number one within weeks.\n\nPatrick remembered a time when he had wanted to call Janine up and throw it all in her face, a childish perversion to prove he was still better than her. The feeling had passed pretty quickly, though, especially when his editor had called and told him that he was being sued by an angry fan.\n\nPatrick shook his head in anger as he recalled the four month trial and the endless inquiries he had had to endure. At that time, he had been happy that Jack wasn't around to witness it all, although the ordeal had quickly become a national interest. At one point, Patrick couldn't walk around downtown without someone stopping and harassing him.\n\nRoom 213 was hidden by the canopy's shadows, but the rain still found a way to break through the cover. It made a continuous tapping sound, as if someone were impatiently drumming their fingers against the window and door. Patrick couldn't see any light on, and despite the immediate reluctance to wake the priest, he knocked on the door.\n\nPatrick waited, glancing at his previous room while he buried his hands in his pockets. He had emptied it out as promised, looking over his shoulder at the bathroom every few seconds, hoping that Cameron's ghost was confined to the room downstairs. He had felt foolish, but after what he had seen, he wasn't going to leave anything to chance or logic. He was on an emotional cruise control as his brain sat on the sideline with hotdogs and chips, watching the events of the night unfold.\n\nPatrick knocked again, and when there was still no answer, he cupped his hands over his eyes and peered into the room through the window. The rainwater made things far too blurry, but Patrick could tell that the room was empty. Thunder burst behind him and made him jump, the following flash of lightning momentarily illuminating the motel and confirming its emptiness.\n\nPatrick frowned and walked towards the stairs, grasping the banister tight as he descended, careful not to slip on the water that raced down ahead of him. At the bottom, he glanced around the corner and saw that the bar's neon lights were off and the windows dark. He turned to his right, quickening his step as he passed Room 203, Cameron's room, hoping to God that the man had not changed his mind and decided to return to it in the middle of the night. A television was on in the next room, the soft white light of static flickering through the window. From the corner of his eye, Patrick could see a figure sitting beside the window, and he briefly wondered how anyone could fall asleep on that uncomfortable chair.\n\nPatrick dug his hands deeper into his pockets and hunched his shoulders, the rain seeping in through the collar of his coat down his nape. He continued to the front office where a light was on inside, and hoped that Harold had decided to have another cigarette in the comfort of the fluorescents with a magazine to kill the time. He doubted that the priest had found a way to fall asleep, either, and right now, Patrick needed the company.\n\nThe office was empty.\n\nPatrick stomped his feet on the welcome rug just inside the door and glanced about the small space in dismay. He walked up to the front desk, rang the bell and waited, looking out longingly at the highway beyond. He remembered his car and hoped that, come the morning, he would find it waiting for him by the side of the road where he had left it. Right now, he would have done anything to be on the open road, driving towards Hartford, even in the storm. Anything was better than this.\n\nWhen no one came out, Patrick rang the bell again and glanced into the small backroom. When he had come in earlier with Cameron, Owen had been sleeping on a chair inside, but the room was empty now. Patrick sighed and ran a hand across his face, yawning. He was exhausted, yet unwilling to venture back into the world of dreams. He needed something to get his mind off of his recent nightmares. Maybe he could find where Connor was staying and convince the big man to open the bar for another hour.\n\nThe world doesn't revolve around you, asshole.\n\nThe voice in his head sounded too much like Janine for comfort.\n\nPatrick glanced back out at the rain, contemplating returning to his room and trying to sleep, but couldn't bring himself to move. He was reluctant to return to the cold and rain, but there was nothing in here that spiked his interest, and the couches looked too uncomfortable to lay back on should he decide to sleep.\n\nMovement from across the motel caught his eye, and he squinted to get a better look at the figure racing under the canopy and around the corner. It looked like a woman, but Patrick couldn't tell for sure. She seemed to be heading towards the bar.\n\nPatrick stepped out into the rain and made his way in her direction. She was bound to turn back once she noticed the bar was empty, and he hoped to run into her on her return. Right now, he would settle for anyone to talk to, provided he didn't scare her half to death.\n\n\"Where are you going?\"\n\nPatrick jumped, feeling his heart leap into his throat. He glanced to his left at the small figure of Jimmy Frey standing completely still in the rain, hair soaked and almost covering his eyes, water streaming down his face. He was dressed in a Simpsons shirt and shorts, both fabrics looking far too flimsy for this weather, yet he seemed unaffected by neither the cold nor the rain.\n\n\"Kid, what the hell are you doing out here?\" Patrick asked, his brain screaming at him to pull the boy out of the rain, yet his instincts telling him otherwise. Patrick couldn't explain it, but he had a feeling that being too close to Jimmy would not be in his best interest.\n\n\"I saw you from my room,\" Jimmy replied. \"I thought you might be looking for something and needed help.\"\n\nPatrick smiled despite himself. \"That's sweet, kid, but you really shouldn't be out here in the rain like this. Your mother's going to have a fit.\"\n\nJimmy shrugged and smiled, and for the first time, Patrick could sense there was a human being inside the little boy's body. \"Mom's busy.\"\n\nPatrick gestured towards the end of the motel. \"Was that her running off that way?\"\n\nJimmy kept his gaze set on Patrick and nodded.\n\n\"What's she doing over there?\" Patrick asked, venturing a few steps towards the boy. \"The bar's closed.\"\n\n\"She doesn't drink,\" Jimmy said.\n\n\"What then?\"\n\n\"She didn't say.\"\n\nPatrick stared at the boy for a moment, only then realizing that they were still standing out in the open.\n\nThe kid's going to get pneumonia, he thought to himself.\n\nStill, he hesitated. He would have expected Jimmy's small frame to be shaking in this weather, yet there was no sign that the boy was in any way uncomfortable. On the contrary; he seemed extremely content standing just where he was.\n\n\"You sure you're okay out here?\" Patrick asked, hoping to remind the boy that there was nothing ordinary about him being out in a storm dressed the way he was.\n\nJimmy only nodded, and Patrick was forced to smile. He remembered how his own son always tried to feign being okay even when he wasn't.\n\n\"What's your name, kid?\" Patrick asked.\n\n\"Jimmy.\"\n\n\"Well, it's nice to meet you, Jimmy,\" Patrick smiled. \"I'm Patrick.\"\n\nJimmy nodded, and Patrick could sense that it was more of a confirmation nod than anything else, as if the boy had already known.\n\n\"What do you say we step out of this rain?\" Patrick asked. \"I'll walk you to your room and you can change into something less wet.\"\n\n\"That's okay,\" Jimmy said. \"Most of this isn't real anyway. I'm not really wet.\"\n\nPatrick frowned. \"What? What do you mean?\"\n\nJimmy shrugged and smiled again. \"It's complicated.\"\n\nPatrick was a little amused at the game Jimmy was playing, impressed by how the imagination of the young mind could make anything seem 'complicated'. He walked towards the boy and reached out a hand.\n\n\"Humor me, then,\" Patrick said with a smile.\n\nJimmy grasped his hand, and for a brief second, Patrick felt a shock of electricity race through him. It was short and strong, and it almost threw him back. He looked down at the boy and smiled through the numbness, trying to feign easiness as they walked back under the safety of the canopy.\n\n\"Hey, Jimmy, can I ask you something?\"\n\nJimmy nodded as they began their ascent to the second floor.\n\n\"It's about what you said earlier,\" Patrick said. \"Remember when we first talked? You were on the stairs over there.\"\n\nJimmy nodded again, looking up at Patrick patiently.\n\n\"How did you know about Cameron?\" Patrick asked. \"You said I was needed.\"\n\nJimmy shrugged. \"You were, weren't you?\"\n\nPatrick gave the boy a half-smile. \"In a way, I guess I was.\" They stopped at Jimmy's room and looked at each other. \"But how did you know?\"\n\n\"I guess I just knew.\"\n\n\"Are you psychic, kid?\"\n\nJimmy frowned. \"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"Never mind,\" Patrick said, waving it off as the boy opened the door to his room and stepped inside.\n\nJimmy stopped and turned back to Patrick. \"The bar isn't closed,\" he said.\n\n\"Sure it is,\" Patrick said. \"I just checked.\"\n\n\"You were checking somewhere else,\" Jimmy said, pointing past Patrick. \"Now everything's different.\"\n\nPatrick turned around to see what the boy was pointing at, and noticed that it had stopped raining. Not only that, but as he bent over the inexplicably dry railing and looked down, it was as if it hadn't been raining at all. The entire parking lot was dry, his clothes were dry, and even the wind had let down tremendously, making Patrick feel a little too warm in his coat.\n\n\"Long night, eh?\"\n\nPatrick turned to see Kurt Layton leaning against the railing with a cigarette in his hand, a wide smile on his face. He was clad in just his boxers with an open robe thrown over his shoulders.\n\nPatrick turned to Jimmy, but the boy had gone into his room and closed the door.\n\n\"Quiet, that one,\" Kurt said. \"His mother's quite a looker.\"\n\nPatrick looked at the old man and shook his head in bewilderment. Now he really needed a drink.\n\n#  Chapter 8\n\n\"How much?\"\n\nKurt Layton finished rolling his cigarette, slowly, taking his time as he pretended to run the numbers through his head.\n\nHe already knew what he was going to charge, but when it came to Ivy League medical students, he found that it was important to look like he was putting in more effort than he really was. He had quickly learned that in his profession, and any other profession he had ever worked in, the more it seemed like a hassle to finish a job, the more people were willing to pay. And Kurt loved money.\n\n\"A grand,\" he finally said, sticking the cigarette in his mouth and lighting it.\n\nThe undergrad's eyes flew open. \"That's a little steep.\"\n\n\"You think?\" Kurt asked. \"Well, if you feel that strongly about it.\" Kurt stood up and adjusted his coat. \"Thanks for the coffee.\"\n\n\"Wait, wait, just sit down,\" the undergrad said.\n\nKurt smiled to himself. He could smell desperation from a mile away, and the kid in front of him reeked of it. He immediately knew there would be no need for negotiations.\n\n\"How long?\" the undergrad asked.\n\nKurt shrugged and sat back, locking his palms together behind his head as he stared at the ceiling. The truth was, he already had the bones at home. He never left things to chance, digging up whatever he could whenever the opportunity presented itself. It was a risky business, and he never left things to chance.\n\n\"A week, maybe two,\" Kurt replied, looking back at the young man. \"You in a hurry?\"\n\n\"Of course I am,\" the undergrad replied. \"I've got finals in a month.\"\n\nKurt leaned forward and blew smoke out of his mouth in rings. \"I could push the schedule, but that will cost you an extra three grand.\"\n\n\"Forget it!\"\n\nKurt shrugged and made to get up again before the young man grasped his arm. Kurt raised an eyebrow at him and settled back into his seat.\n\nThe undergrad sighed and shifted in his seat, looking about the small diner restlessly. It was more money than he had anticipated, and Kurt believed that the kid would go through hell trying to explain it to his father. He couldn't care less, though. All Kurt cared about was getting paid, and he rarely lost sleep over how anyone he did business with went through to fulfill that.\n\n\"Make up your mind, son,\" Kurt said. \"I have appointments to keep.\"\n\nThe undergrad looked at Kurt angrily, then sighed and nodded. \"How do I pay you?\"\n\nKurt smiled. Now they were getting somewhere.\n\n***\n\nThe baby was crying again.\n\nDiana opened her eyes and let out an agitated sigh. She had first heard the screaming when she returned from the pool, angry and frustrated. She had been ready to raise hell, changing quickly as she ran the words she had wanted to say through her head. She had made up her mind. Diana would get the old man fired, wait until the morning, then take her deposit and find another motel. She didn't need to put up with this crap.\n\nThat was when the crying had started. It startled Diana, forcing her to pause in mid-dress while she tried to make out where the sound was coming from. At first, it had sounded like it was in her room, but she knew better and assumed it was either the woman in the room around the corner, or some new guest stupid enough to take their baby out in the rain.\n\nIt had quieted down soon enough, but not before it took the fight out of Diana and had her give up on the idea of complaining. She had undressed grudgingly and crawled under the covers, resolving to wait until the morning and decide then whether or not to continue with her plan. A part of her knew that it wasn't worth the trouble, but a bigger part wished for nothing else than to see Ol' Sal squirm at her feet and beg her not to get him fired. That grin on his face had been the worst of it, the smug look of someone who truly believed she wouldn't be able to do anything to him.\n\nShe'd show that arrogant prick who Diana Bren really was. She had fallen asleep with a slight smile on her face as she imagined all the things she would do to make the man suffer.\n\nThat's why she was less than happy when the crying started again.\n\nDiana sat up in bed, reaching for her bra and snapping it on as she rolled to her feet. She pulled on her shirt and grabbed her phone to check the time. It was still midnight, and she frowned, thinking that maybe there was something wrong with her phone. She remembered it had been twelve when she had gone to bed. She caught sight of the empty signal bars and quickly tossed the phone aside, useless.\n\nWhen the crying grew louder, Diana grabbed her jeans and started to pull them on. This time it felt a lot more like the baby was actually in her room, and Diana frowned in confusion. She didn't believe the walls could be so thin. She had deliberately chosen her room because there were no rooms above her, and the one next to hers was being renovated.\n\nThe crying shouldn't be this loud!\n\nShe glanced around the room again, trying to reassure herself that she was alone, and that there was no way a baby could be hiding in some corner without her knowing about it. Still, the wailing was much too loud for comfort, and Diana cringed at the sound.\n\nSomebody shut it up!\n\nShe had to get out of here. Pulling the door open, she froze in horror when her eyes fell on the baby sitting right outside her room. It looked up at her, naked, eyes strung with tears, mouth wide open as it screamed. There was blood streaming down the side of its face from a large scar on its head, and Diana's first thought was how it was alive to start with. She staggered back, her hand on her mouth as she stared at it.\n\nThe baby continued to cry, its eyes on Diana as she backed away. As if sensing it would be left alone, it rolled onto its hands and knees and crawled towards her, wailing as blood splattered around it. It quickened its pace, blind to anything except Diana as it made its way straight for her.\n\nThe bed threatened to stop Diana's retreat, but she quickly climbed on top of it and kicked her way to the far wall. The baby stopped its advance a few feet away from her. It had stopped crying, and Diana couldn't pull her eyes away from the pulsating scar on its head.\n\nIt looked up at her, sniffing, eyes watery.\n\n\"Confess!\"\n\nDiana couldn't tell whether the voice came from the baby itself or from somewhere else, but it chilled her to the bones. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the baby, watching as the blood slowly began to fall down into its eyes and mouth.\n\n\"Confess!\"\n\nThis time Diana was sure where the voice had come from, the baby's mouth moving. She stared in horror as its lips curled into a smile, blood dripping down its chin and onto the carpet.\n\nWhen it began to crawl towards the bed again, Diana screamed.\n\n***\n\n\"It's a long night, that's for sure,\" Kurt Layton said.\n\nPatrick walked beside the old man quietly as they made their way to the bar, declining a rolled up cigarette and only stopping once as Kurt cupped his hands to light his own.\n\n\"I usually sleep through the night,\" Kurt was saying. \"Never really noticed how it lingered. Not like the day, mind you. During the day, there's a lot to do, you never really take notice of the time. But at night, it's just you and the dark.\"\n\nPatrick nodded, not really paying much attention to the old man's words. He was still a little shaken, unsure as to how he should feel about the past few hours. Nothing about tonight made any sense, and it was hard to keep pinning things on the drinking and sleep deprivation.\n\n\"You okay there, son?\"\n\nPatrick looked up at Kurt and smiled. \"Sure,\" he lied. \"Like you said, long night. A drink could do me well.\"\n\n\"Amen to that!\" Kurt chuckled as they continued on their way.\n\nThe screaming startled them, and it only took a few seconds for the two men to look at each other before racing towards the sound. The screams grew louder as they rounded the corner, and from the corner of his eyes, Patrick could see that the bar actually was still open, its neon sign flickering in welcome.\n\nKurt wrestled with the knob to room 202-B, pushing against the frame as he tried to wrestle the door open. The screaming inside continued, shrill and piercing, and Patrick could have sworn he heard the sound of a crying baby beneath it. He glanced back at the bar just as Cameron and Harold came running out, followed closely by Connor.\n\n\"Kick it open!\" Patrick yelled, the woman's screams like knives in his head. He could almost feel her fear like a cold hand squeezing on his heart. From around the corner came the sound of another room's door opening, and in seconds, the overweight redhead from the bar earlier came rushing to them.\n\n\"What's going on?\" she yelled over the screaming.\n\nKurt threw his weight against the door and stepped back, wincing in pain as he grabbed his shoulder. Patrick pushed him aside, took a few steps back and then charged at the door. He slammed his foot down on the knob, jolts of pain bursting up his leg as he heard the satisfactory breaking of wood. The door swung open forcefully and slammed against the wall. Patrick staggered and almost fell if not for Harold grabbing him by the arm and steadying him. Kurt and Gina raced into the room.\n\n***\n\n\"Drinks on the house for the knights in shining armor.\"\n\nConnor sat two glasses of whiskey in front of Patrick and Kurt, smiling uncomfortably.\n\n\"Thanks, Connor,\" Kurt said, getting up and walking over to a table nearby.\n\nPatrick downed his entire glass without a word. He looked over at where the blonde actress sat, visibly shaken as Gina Andrews tried to comfort her. He couldn't get the screaming out of his head, Diana's shrill cries resonating in his mind and scraping at the inside of his skull. If she had been screaming right in his ear, it wouldn't have affected him the same way. No, it was almost like he had been in her head, experiencing her fear, going through the same hell she had gone through.\n\nPatrick felt a hand rest on his shoulder and squeeze. He turned to look into the tired eyes of Harold Bell.\n\n\"You seem to be tonight's protagonist,\" Harold said.\n\nPatrick sniffed and shrugged. \"It's a strange night.\"\n\n\"Doesn't take away from the fact that whatever had scared that poor girl, she was lucky you and Kurt were there to help.\"\n\nPatrick didn't reply, tapping his glass for a refill, his eyes fixated on Diana. The woman was pale as a sheet, and her eyes kept darting back and forth in search of some inexplicable wraith. He couldn't tell for sure what she had seen, the image of her cowering on her bed still fresh in his mind, but he had a pretty good idea what it might be.\n\nHe couldn't deny it anymore. He began to believe that maybe there was some truth to what Cameron had said earlier, that maybe the motel really was haunted. How else could he explain what was happening to the guests, or to him for that matter? There was something strange going on, and the more Patrick dwelled on it, the more it hurt his head.\n\nThen, of course, there was his last encounter with Jimmy. The rain that never was, the conversation that had probably never happened. There were too many questions rolling about in his head, and he was nowhere close to answering any of them. He gazed about the bar, at the guests who had made their way inside and were scattered all around. He saw the way Cameron was looking at the actress, an understanding in his eyes as if knowing how she felt. He saw Kurt's faraway stare and could almost hear his mind at work. He saw Connor wiping down the bar, the circular motion set in the same spot as if he were working on cruise control.\n\nEveryone could sense it, in one way or another. And Patrick hated that no one had a clear explanation.\n\n\"Is your watch working?\" he asked Harold.\n\nHarold shook his head. \"Still at twelve.\"\n\n\"Does it feel like time isn't passing?\" Patrick frowned. \"It's been dark for far too long. Shouldn't we be seeing dawn by now?\"\n\nHarold shrugged and pulled himself up onto a stool. \"It's a little strange, but then again, the night has a way of dragging out.\"\n\nPatrick clicked his tongue. \"Seems like it's taking its sweet time.\"\n\n\"Are you scared of the dark?\" Harold chuckled, taking a sip from his drink.\n\n\"I'm scared of the lack of sleep,\" Patrick answered, shrugging off his worries for the time being. \"I'm not going to be in any form to drive tomorrow morning if I don't get some proper rest.\"\n\n\"I feel the same way,\" Harold said, \"although a while ago, I was sure I could make it to dawn alright.\"\n\nPatrick nodded. He had half expected to see the first signs of sunrise by now, an indicator that the wait was over and he could finally get back on the road. Plus, he'd had enough excitement for one night, and the only thing stopping him from going back to his room and trying to sleep was the fear that he would be plagued with more nightmares.\n\n\"Did she say anything to anyone?\" Patrick asked.\n\nHarold shook his head. \"I'll be honest, though, I haven't asked.\"\n\nPatrick frowned. \"God, her screams, father,\" he said. \"It was like she was screaming in my head.\"\n\n\"I can imagine,\" Harold replied. \"We heard them all the way in here. I could have sworn the glass shook.\"\n\n\"What could scare someone like that?\"\n\n\"Ghosts, man,\" Cameron said as he idled towards them, setting his drink on the bar next to Patrick's and leaning over it. \"After what I saw, I'm not surprised.\"\n\nHarold leaned over and gazed at Cameron with a childish look of curiosity. \"What did you see?\"\n\n\"A woman,\" Cameron said. \"Someone I once knew. Dead. She came at me in the bathroom, man, and I swear, it was like she had crawled out of her grave. Scared the bejesus out of me.\" Cameron glanced at Patrick. \"This guy says he saw nothing, but I don't believe it one bit. He was shitting coins when he went into my room.\"\n\nHarold raised an eyebrow and looked at Patrick in amusement. \"You saw her?\"\n\nPatrick shook his head. \"I didn't see a woman,\" he said.\n\n\"Bullshit!\" Cameron scoffed.\n\nPatrick gave him a disapproving look, then turned his attention back to the women at the table. Gina put a hand on Diana's shoulder and the actress flinched.\n\n\"I saw something, but not a woman,\" Patrick finally said, taking a sip from his drink.\n\nCameron was suddenly interested, standing up and gazing at Patrick as he waited for him to continue. Patrick gave him a quick look and shook his head.\n\n\"Doesn't matter,\" Patrick said. \"I was tipsy. Probably imagined it all.\"\n\n\"What was it?\" Cameron asked.\n\nPatrick hesitated before finally saying, \"Spiders.\"\n\n\"You saw a spider?\" Harold asked, the tone of his voice a little skeptical.\n\n\"Not one spider, father,\" Patrick said. \"Hundreds of them. Crawling out from under the bed. They were coming for me.\"\n\nHarold shook his head in bewilderment. \"That is quite strange.\"\n\n\"Why would you see spiders?\" Cameron asked. \"Are you scared of them or something?\"\n\n\"Why did you see a dead woman?\" Patrick asked.\n\nCameron stared at Patrick a moment longer before grabbing his drink. \"Whatever, man,\" he said and walked away.\n\nPatrick watched him leave and turned back to Diana. She was looking at him now, her eyes boring into his. He couldn't read minds, but he knew exactly what she was thinking. Whatever was happening at the Kurtain Motel, it wasn't going to leave anyone out.\n\n#  Chapter 9\n\nJimmy Frey sat silently in the chair next to the window. He gazed out into the night, sighing heavily when he began to notice the few droplets of rain falling on the railing outside. It was starting again, and he was too tired to keep up.\n\nHe glanced over his shoulder at his mother as she sat motionless on her bed, eyes closed, meditating. He wondered if she would have the energy to go through another round, especially after the last one had almost drained her completely. She wouldn't complain, he knew that. She was strong, and he admired that about her. Still, he worried.\n\nJimmy gazed back out the window. The rain quickly picked up intensity, and within seconds was falling in torrents. He could almost sense its rage, the fury with which it fell, the water like knives tearing through the skies. He could feel his muscles clenching, and he knew that he would have to sit this one out if he wanted to maintain his strength.\n\n\"I can handle it,\" Tara Frey said, eyes closed as her voice came in a soft whisper. \"You've done enough for one night.\"\n\n\"So have you,\" Jimmy replied. \"I don't believe this one will be easy to overcome.\"\n\nTara opened her eyes and smiled at her son, her face calm. \"It has never been easy.\"\n\nJimmy didn't reply, only stared out into the rain.\n\n\"Have you chosen?\" Tara asked, slowly getting up and reaching for her shoes.\n\nJimmy watched her intently, his admiration for her growing as he felt her fight through her exhaustion and ready herself. \"Yes,\" he finally said, \"although I'm not so sure.\"\n\nTara turned and smiled at her son. \"You'll figure it out,\" she said.\n\nJimmy smiled back as his mother crossed to where he sat, bent down and kissed his forehead.\n\n\"I love you, Jimmy Frey,\" she said, running her hand across his cheek. \"No matter what.\"\n\nJimmy nodded and watched as his mother opened the door to their room and stepped out into the storm.\n\n***\n\nJason Collick was going mad.\n\nThe voices were clearer now, angrier, hissing in his ear and echoing in his mind. He fought to clear his head, to rid himself of their incessant accusations and attacks, but his efforts were useless. The blood in his temples was throbbing dangerously, making his eyes water as he staggered back and forth through the room, trying to fight off the hammering in his head.\n\nJason leaned against the wall, exhausted and in pain. He knocked his head against the hard surface, hoping that the shock would send the voices away. His hand reached out for the door knob, twisted it angrily, praying for an escape. The door was locked and Jason cried out in frustration.\n\n\"You won't escape again!\"\n\nA loud thud came from his right, and Jason's eyes grew wide when he stared into the dead eyes of a man in a business suit, standing just outside the window. He was smiling, his face pressed against the window, his mouth open in a silent cry of anger. His fingernails scratched at the window, wanting to get in, and Jason quickly staggered away from him.\n\nA hand grabbed the collar of Jason's shirt and pulled him to the floor, a heavy body quickly straddling him. On any other day, Jason would have found the woman beautiful, if not for the black eyes and tears of blood streaming down her cheeks. She bent close, her hands holding him down by the shoulders, her strength inconsistent with her form. Jason could smell the rot on her breath as she locked her lips onto his, then bit hard enough to draw blood.\n\n\"We missed you, Jason,\" she sneered. \"Did you miss us? Do you remember us?\"\n\nJason panicked and kicked out, pushing the woman off him and rolling away, putting distance between them. When he looked back, she was gone.\n\nAnd still, the voices came.\n\nJason cried out, drawing his knees to his chest and burying his face in his hands. The pain was incredible, pouring through him as if a hundred knives were cutting across his skin. He didn't know how much of this he could take.\n\nThe walls around him suddenly began to pulsate, matching his heartbeats as they bulged and retracted. Hands broke through them, followed by decaying arms and flapping skin. One by one, Jason watched as the room filled with the dead, tens of them, climbing out of the wall and smiling wickedly as they advanced on him.\n\nJason quickly crawled to his suitcase, frantically digging his hand inside and searching.\n\n\"Confess!\"\n\nJason found his gun, pulled it out and aimed it at the empty room with shaky hands. The dead were gone, but the voices in his head were not.\n\n\"Do it!\"\n\nJason forced his eyes shut, slamming the butt of his gun against his temple in an attempt to rid himself of the hissing whispers.\n\n\"Pull the trigger, Jason! End it now!\"\n\nJason screamed and raised his gun, firing two shots into the ceiling, bits of plaster raining down on his head.\n\nThe voices disappeared.\n\nJason opened his eyes, feeling the strain in his head disappear. His vision cleared, but his breathing was still coming in gasps and his heart pounded hard in his chest. He stood up slowly, the gun at his head rattling as his hand shook uncontrollably. He took a few tentative steps forward, eyes searching for any signs of more attacks to come.\n\nWhen he was sure he was alone, he relaxed. He took in deep breaths, letting them out in long, strenuous exhales as he massaged the tightness in his chest. He could still smell rot in the air, and his shoulders were throbbing with pain where the woman had grabbed him and pinned him down. Yet all that didn't matter; all that was bearable. At least they were gone.\n\n\"Confess, Jason.\"\n\nThe voice came from behind him, and Jason quickly turned, his gun raised threateningly. A figure was standing in the bathroom, half hidden in the dark. It chuckled lightly.\n\n\"Guns won't work here.\"\n\nThe figure moved into the light, slowly. The man stood tall, almost as tall as Jason, clad in a suit drenched in water, the right side of his face hanging down in flaps of skin. One bloody eye stared at Jason angrily, the empty socket beside it just as terrorizing. The man was smiling, a toothless smile as water trickled out of his mouth.\n\n\"Confess, my friend.\"\n\nJason recognized his old partner immediately. \"Chuck?\" he stammered.\n\nChuck threw his head back and laughed hysterically, the water in his mouth gurgling and forcing him to cough. He ran a hand through the few strands of hair left on his head as he took a few more steps towards Jason.\n\n\"Confess!\" Chuck hissed. \"Look at me. Look at what you did to me, and confess!\"\n\nJason shook his head, closing his eyes and opening them again, hoping that this was just another vision. Chuck didn't disappear, the man's smile only widening.\n\n\"Go!\" Jason yelled at him. \"I'll shoot, I swear!\"\n\nChuck laughed again. \"I believe you,\" he said, his tone suddenly serious. \"You've done it before.\"\n\nJason took a few steps back, his hand finding the door and turning the knob. To his relief, it opened.\n\n\"Confess!\" Chuck screeched and immediately lunged at Jason.\n\nJason pulled the trigger twice.\n\n***\n\nOwen Little made his way towards the maintenance room.\n\nThe rain was coming down hard, and he was barely halfway to his destination before he could feel the water soak into his socks and underwear.\n\nDamn this night!\n\nHe had been awakened earlier by the screaming actress, pulled out of another deep slumber and cursing the gods for his misfortune. He had raced out of his room just as the actress was being escorted out of her room, everyone crowded around her and comforting her, as if she needed more attention. It disgusted Owen, and when he saw the broken door, his repulsion had spiked even more.\n\nNow he was forced to repair the damn thing before the rain ruined the furniture inside. Normally, he would have called Sal to do the job, but there was still no coverage, and he didn't want to be face to face with the man when he told him what to do. Owen knew Sal wouldn't be happy about it, especially since he already had a deep distaste for the young actress after their run-in at the pool.\n\nOwen looked up at the renovated rooms as he walked past them. He had hoped they'd be done by now, but business was slow. The entire wing looked forlorn and uninviting, especially during a night like this, and he toyed with the idea of cutting down costs by finishing some of the repairs himself. He could probably drag Sal along with him. The man would give him hell, but Sal was a loyal dog, and Owen had no doubt he'd probably do a better job than anyone else.\n\nThe door to the maintenance room stood open and a dim light burned inside. Owen made his way in, walking around the large shelves and smiling to himself when he saw Sal bent over the workstation.\n\n\"I was looking for you,\" Owen lied.\n\nSal looked over his shoulder and scoffed. \"You coulda tried my phone.\"\n\n\"No coverage,\" Owen said as he walked up to the man and looked down at what he was working on.\n\nSal had his watch open, the wheels, barrel and ratchet all lined up neatly to one side as he worked. \"The clocks ain't working, either,\" Sal said. \"Digital or any o'the others. Damn storm's sent us back to the stone ages.\"\n\n\"The televisions still work, and we have electricity,\" Owen pointed out.\n\n\"Yippidy friggin' doo-da!\" Sal spat.\n\nOwen walked over to one of the shelves and sifted through the boxes there, looking for a new doorknob.\n\n\"That actress you ran into earlier,\" Owen said. \"Diana something-something.\"\n\nSal scoffed. \"Little daddy's girl.\"\n\n\"Yeah, well, her door just lost a knob,\" Owen said. \"Another guest kicked it in when they heard screaming.\"\n\nSal dropped his tools and stood up straight, looking at Owen angrily. \"An' I'm supposed to stand in that damn weather and fix it?\"\n\n\"That is your job, Sal,\" Owen said, finding what he wanted and tossing it to the man.\n\nSal let the knob hit him and drop to the floor. \"I ain't doin' shit for that bitch.\"\n\n\"It's not a request,\" Owen said, gesturing to the knob on the floor. \"Get it done when you're finished here.\"\n\nOwen made to leave when Sal stopped him. \"I'm gonna need the keys to the truck.\"\n\n\"Why?\" Owen asked, a little agitated that he was spending more time here than he needed to.\n\n\"Need to drive into town,\" Sal said. \"We need batteries and parts to fix the clocks. An' we lost two generators. We ain't gonna have electricity in the morning if we lose the third.\"\n\nOwen cursed. It was just his luck. More costs just kept piling up on him. He made a mental note to charge Diana for the broken door.\n\n\"I'll drive into town,\" Owen said. \"You see to that door, and let Connor know he's in charge until I get back.\"\n\nSal sniffed and spat as Owen walked back out into the rain.\n\n***\n\nGina Andrews felt like she was in high school again.\n\nIt wasn't the pretty actress sitting next to her and being ogled at by everyone in the bar, with herself completely invisible. Gina was used to getting little to no attention from men, other than those who wanted her money, and she had gotten used to the rejection over the years. She couldn't say that it didn't bother her, but she wasn't prone to locking herself up in her room and crying about it anymore.\n\nNo, it had more to do with how she felt around Diana. Suddenly, she was transported back to her school cafeteria, sitting alone with her food, looking longingly at the cliques of girls sitting around her. She remembered the feeling of wanting to walk up and ask to be their friend. She remembered her need for acceptance, and that if somehow she could get their approval, she would immediately be regarded as cool.\n\nShe felt the same way now, sitting next to Diana, trying to comfort her while at the same time hoping that her efforts would be appreciated and the two of them would somehow hit it off. She scolded herself, wondering how, after all these years, after all this success, she still needed recognition.\n\nBesides, it wasn't like she was ever going to meet any of these people again. As far as she was concerned, she would be long gone the minute the sun came up. She didn't need any of the other guests' approval, let alone Diana's. Yet Gina couldn't help herself, and she whispered and cooed as much as she could to make the woman feel as comfortable as possible.\n\n\"Can you stop touching me?\" Diana suddenly said, her first words since they had helped her out of her room.\n\nGina felt the words like a slap to the face. \"I'm sorry,\" she muttered, immediately regretting her apology and wincing at how pathetic she sounded. Her mother would have had a ball if she were here. \"I was just trying to help.\"\n\n\"Yeah, well, you're kind of suffocating me,\" Diana said, shifting her chair a few inches away from Gina. She was obviously feeling much better, the initial shock of what had happened gone and replaced with a sense of self-importance.\n\nGina's cheeks flushed in embarrassment. \"Are you sure you're okay?\" she asked nevertheless, hating herself for it.\n\nDiana gave her a disgusted look. \"Don't you have a sandwich to eat or something?\"\n\nGina stood up angrily, tears stinging her eyes, and raced out of the bar.\n\n***\n\n\"I'm tellin' you, you don't want him in charge during this storm.\"\n\nOwen shook his head in frustration. He fought the urge to turn around and blow up in Sal's face. Not tonight. Especially not tonight, when he couldn't afford to anger Sal. He needed the man's full support to keep the entire motel from breaking down. The storm didn't seem like it was going to let up, and Owen had to admit that without Sal, he'd be lost.\n\n\"He ain't got any idea about anythin',\" Sal was saying.\n\n\"It's for an hour, Sal,\" Owen yelled over his shoulder. \"Take it easy.\"\n\n\"He's gonna get ideas, that one,\" Sal said. \"Leavin' him in charge all the time is gonna get to his head, and soon he'll want the motel to himself.\"\n\nOwen stopped and turned to face the man. \"Ease up, alright?\" he hissed. \"I gave you a job to do, so instead of harassing me with this nonsense, get it done.\"\n\n\"I knew a man once,\" Sal said. \"Things got to his head, too, that one. Did some terrible things to get what he wanted.\" Sal leaned in close. \"Dragged others along with 'im.\"\n\nOwen felt the anger boil up inside him. He closed the gap between him and Sal, looking up into the man's eyes. \"Get to work,\" he said through clenched teeth, then turned and walked towards the truck.\n\nOwen knew what Sal was thinking, always jealous of how much more Owen trusted Connor over him. He couldn't deny Sal's worth to the motel and knew he would do everything he could to keep the man happy, but sometimes Sal pushed it. Besides, how could he trust him? After everything that had happened, he would be a fool to give his back to the man.\n\nOwen climbed into the truck and slammed the door behind him. Pulling out his keys, he squinted through the rain at Sal standing several feet away, completely still, watching him. Owen would never hear the end of this, but for now, they all had work to do, and apparently the storm would not let them rest until the morning.\n\nHis eye caught movement, and he frowned at the figure of a woman running across the second floor landing. Owen knew it couldn't be the actress, or the other woman with the red hair. It could only be the woman from earlier, the mother who had been waiting for a cab with her son. What the hell was she doing out in this weather?\n\nOwen shook his head. If anything else happened, it wasn't his responsibility anymore. Connor would handle it.\n\nHe turned the ignition, shifted into drive and pulled out of his parking space. He barely looked at Sal as he turned to the left and maneuvered his vehicle towards the exit. The rain fell hard against the windshield, and Owen switched on the wipers, wincing at the sound of rubber against glass. The neon sign of the Kurtain Motel flickered as he drove past it.\n\n\"Darling, really, you should wear your seatbelt.\"\n\nOwen's eyes shot up to the rearview mirror and the reflection of his dead wife smiling back at him. Her hair had fallen out completely, and her skin had turned grey with decay. She gave him a wide smile, and from behind her lips, a torrent of black beetles crawled out.\n\n\"Confess!\" she giggled, reaching for him.\n\nOwen swerved.\n\n***\n\nSal watched the truck head towards the exit, almost disappearing in the sheets of rain falling around him.\n\nHe hated Owen. After all he had done for that man, after getting his hands dirty, he was still being treated like trash. Without him, Owen would have still been his wife's slave. Mrs. Little had been gentler, albeit naïve and a little too generous. She had been driving the motel into the ground, and when Owen approached him with a plan, Sal had instantly jumped at the opportunity to prove he was more than just the 'super'.\n\nNow, though, he felt more and more like he had been used. Nothing had changed since he helped Owen get rid of the missus. On the contrary, things had only gotten worse for him. And now, Connor was slowly becoming Owen's right hand man instead of him.\n\nSal's mind raced with ideas of what he wanted to do to Owen, of how he would get what he deserved.\n\nSudden gunshots startled him, and Sal turned in alarm as one of the guests raced out of his room and into the rain. The man was hysterical, the gun in his hand raised and aimed at the room as if waiting for someone to follow him out.\n\n\"You're dead!\" the man screamed, letting off another two shots. The sound was deafening as it echoed across the motel.\n\n\"Hey!\" Sal shouted, flinching at the sound of the gunshot, waving his arms to get the man's attention. \"Hey, are you insane?\"\n\nThe man looked at him, startled, then quickly raised his gun.\n\nSal was about to duck when a sudden blinding light came from his left.\n\n***\n\nJason Collick shook in fear as the rain fell around him, his arm raised as he aimed his gun at the advancing figure of Chuck.\n\n\"Confess!\" Chuck yelled through the storm.\n\n\"You're dead!\" Jason screamed, pulling the trigger twice as he staggered backwards.\n\n\"Hey!\"\n\nJason turned instinctively, and his heart almost stopped.\n\n\"Hey, are you insane!\"\n\nA man was waving his arms at him, and all around him, hundreds of dead stood stoically in the rain. Men, women and children, like marble statues poised in his direction, each and every one staring at him in fury. One of them stepped forward, and Jason quickly shifted his aim, ready to shoot.\n\nThen they were gone, and Jason was left standing alone, staring in horror as a truck slammed into the waving man.\n\n***\n\nOwen Little had no idea what happened.\n\nOne second he was driving out of the motel, and the next, his entire world was turned upside down. The hissing sounds of his wife coming for him from the truck's backseat lingered in his head, and the image of the beetles crawling out of her mouth was still fresh in his mind. He remembered swerving, aiming for the field just outside the motel.\n\nBut, for some strange reason, he was driving back into the Kurtain Motel. Sal had appeared out of nowhere, and Owen was too slow to react. There was a loud thump as he slammed into the man and sent him flying forward, the sound of breaking bones loud in the falling rain.\n\nOwen screeched to a stop and jumped out of the truck, racing toward Sal frantically. Someone was screaming, a woman, and Owen barely took notice of the man staring at him in shock with a gun in his hand, shaking uncontrollably.\n\nOwen fell to his knees next to Sal's limp body, the man's eyes wide as he stared out into space, his breath coming in gasps. His left leg was bent at an impossible angle, and Owen could see the bone sticking out from the man's thigh.\n\n\"You hit me!\" Sal stammered.\n\nOwen shook his head, trying to clear his mind. He looked up at the man with the gun, still shaking and probably completely useless right now. Owen looked past him and waved frantically at Gina.\n\n\"Get help!\" Owen yelled at her.\n\nGina hesitated, and Owen cursed out at her. \"Now!\"\n\nGina turned and ran towards the bar.\n\nOwen looked down at Sal, holding the man's hand tight as they gazed into each other's eyes.\n\n\"You son of a bitch!\" Sal coughed. \"You tried to kill me!\"\n\n\"Sal, I–\"\n\n\"I'm gonna see you in cuffs for this!\" Sal hissed.\n\nOwen stared at the man in shock, unable to make any sense of what had just happened. He glanced up at the truck, headlights shining bright in his eyes.\n\nHis wife was sitting in the passenger seat, smiling at him.\n\n#  Chapter 10\n\n\"I'm telling you, I wasn't even supposed to be in the motel!\"\n\nPatrick Lahm tried to make sense of what Owen was saying. The man was sweating profusely, rubbing his hands together as he sat fidgeting in his seat. All eyes were on him, and Patrick could see that he didn't like being the center of attention; right now, he would probably have been more comfortable under a rock.\n\nGina's screams echoed in Patrick's head. They had practically slammed into her on their way out of the bar, and it had taken Harold a good while to try and calm her down while the rest of them ran to see what had happened. Patrick knew it would be a long time before he could forget the image of Sal on the ground, bleeding with his thigh bone sticking out like a flag post.\n\n\"I was driving out of the motel,\" Owen was saying. \"I have no idea what happened!\"\n\nPatrick glanced at Harold, an eyebrow raised, hoping that the priest could make better sense of what they were hearing.\n\n\"Connor!\" Owen cried out. \"Connor, you believe me, don't you? You have to believe me!\"\n\nConnor shrugged, equally uneasy as the rest of the guests in the bar gazed at him. It had taken the combined strength of both him and Patrick to get Owen off of Sal, and even then Owen was kicking out and screaming that it was an accident, that he had not seen Sal in the rain.\n\n\"Sorry, boss, but you aren't making a lot of sense,\" Connor muttered.\n\nOwen gazed at him angrily, ready to jump the man if not for Cameron standing between the two of them.\n\nCameron clicked his tongue and moved closer to Patrick, leaning in as he whispered, \"I told you, man, this place is messed up.\"\n\nPatrick ignored the comment. Right now, he was more worried about Sal than anything else. The telephones weren't working, and nobody at the Kurtain Motel had cell phone coverage. They had carried Sal into his room where Gina had offered to stay and watch him until they could find a way to get him to a hospital. No one was willing to take the risk of moving the man any more than needed; there was no telling what other injuries he had sustained from the collision. All they could do was try and stop the bleeding until a solution could be found.\n\n\"How far is the next town?\" Patrick asked Owen, snapping his fingers to get the man's attention.\n\nOwen frowned in concentration. \"Ten miles, a little more.\"\n\nPatrick looked up at the others and shrugged. \"Anyone willing to drive?\"\n\n\"We can take my car,\" Harold said. \"I suggest you join me, though. Two pairs of eyes guiding us through this storm are better than one.\"\n\nPatrick nodded and looked back at Owen. The man was staring out into space. No doubt what he had done was just starting to sink in, the realization that he was probably the reason for another man's death. An employee, for that matter. Patrick could only imagine what was going on inside his head.\n\n\"What do we do about him?\" Cameron asked, gesturing towards Jason Collick sitting at another table, arms wrapped around his shoulders as he rocked back and forth.\n\nPatrick almost forgot about him. He remembered Kurt telling them that the man had a stick up his ass the size of an obelisk, and the fact that he had been standing in the rain with a gun in his hand made everyone uneasy. Even though Kurt had unarmed him without any incident, they had all agreed that the gun was to stay with Connor at all times.\n\nPatrick frowned at Jason, watching him intently. Although he was rocking in his seat, his eyes were staring at them lifelessly. Gina's cries for help must have brought him out, but Patrick had a hard time believing that someone willing to wield a gun would be affected this much by the accident.\n\nUnless there was something else.\n\nThings were starting to escalate at the Kurtain Motel, and more and more of it made very little sense. Patrick began to wonder if maybe there were some truth to Cameron's theory; maybe the motel really was haunted. He didn't want to put too much thought into it yet, but there was no denying that he would have to keep the possibility in mind. So much couldn't be explained otherwise.\n\n\"We'll wait here,\" Connor said, eyeing Jason. \"I'll keep an eye on that one.\"\n\nPatrick nodded and led Harold out of the bar. The rain was still coming down hard, and after recent events, it was giving the motel a much more ominous mood than before. He hadn't minded the weather as much when they had first arrived, but it was really starting to get to him now.\n\nThey sprinted across the parking lot with Patrick only giving the truck a brief glance before shuddering and pressing on. He didn't want to think of the accident now, or of Owen's strange explanation. All he wanted to do was find help, and quick.\n\nBesides, an hour or two away from this place would be good, he thought to himself.\n\n\"I hope you're sober enough,\" Harold joked as he unlocked the car doors.\n\nPatrick gave him a thumbs-up as he jumped into the passenger seat beside him. Harold closed his door, stuck the key in the ignition and turned. The car sputtered and coughed, but wouldn't start. Harold frowned and tried again, pumping the gas. Still, nothing happened.\n\n\"Battery dead?\" Patrick asked, silently cursing their luck.\n\nHarold shook his head in confusion. \"I don't know. Seems like it.\" He tried again, the lights on the dashboard flickering with the effort, then dying. \"This makes no sense.\"\n\n\"I guess we're both going to need help in the morning,\" Patrick said, forcing a weak smile.\n\nHarold looked out at the other parked cars. \"Do you think we can borrow someone else's car?\"\n\n\"I'm not sure,\" Patrick replied. \"Won't hurt to ask.\"\n\nHarold nodded. \"I'll be right back,\" he said, stepping out and racing towards the bar.\n\nPatrick blew into his cupped hands and rubbed them together. The temperature had dropped significantly, although it was still early fall, and the combination of cold and rain was not doing his body any good. If he did make it to the book signing in time, he was probably going to spend it blowing his nose and sneezing into the crook of his elbow.\n\nA light tapping startled him. It came from inside the car, quite distinct from the rain tapping against the vehicle's frame. It was soon joined by a second set of tapping, and then a third, and in seconds, dozens more. Patrick looked about anxiously, wondering what was causing the sound, when he felt something crawling up his left arm.\n\nPatrick jumped at the sight of the spider, its legs sending goose bumps up and down the length of his arm as he quickly brushed it off him. It disappeared under the driver's seat, scurrying away as the tapping sounds intensified. Patrick's eyes grew wide when another spider crawled out of the air conditioning vents, quickly followed by more.\n\n\"Confess!\"\n\nThe voice was in his ear, the whisper a strong hiss that pierced through his head. Patrick knew he couldn't be dreaming this. He fumbled with the door handle, trying to get out of the car as the spiders kept coming. Some found their way up his pants and he frantically swatted at them. The door flew open and Patrick fell in a heap onto the wet ground, pushing himself away from the car. He watched in horror as the spiders crawled out after him, and without thinking twice, he kicked the door shut.\n\n\"What are you doing?\"\n\nPatrick turned to look at the woman watching him from under the shelter of the canopy. Her hair was tied back, and her eyes were a light grey that appeared to shimmer in the dim light around her. He remembered the last time he had seen her, at the front desk with her son, that same look on her face.\n\nPatrick looked back at Harold's car, but the spiders were gone. \"Nothing,\" he said, glancing at the woman and smiling. \"I thought I saw something.\"\n\nThe woman's eyes moved between the car and Patrick.\n\n\"You're Jimmy's mother, right?\" Patrick asked, pushing himself to his feet and hurrying out of the rain.\n\n\"Tara,\" she replied, nodding as she watched him closely.\n\nKurt was right; she really was a striking woman. Patrick noted the high cheekbones and the curved lips, a strand of brown hair escaping her ponytail and falling lazily across the side of her face. He could see where Jimmy got his looks and wondered if the boy was out in the rain as well.\n\n\"Quite a kid you have,\" Patrick said. \"Ran into him a couple of times.\"\n\nTara didn't reply. She stared out at Harold's car, then back at Patrick. \"You should go back inside,\" she said. \"The night isn't very friendly.\"\n\n\"Yeah, my thoughts exactly,\" Patrick said, \"but we have to get help. I don't know if you heard, but there was an accident earlier.\"\n\n\"I saw it,\" Tara said. \"The man's beyond help.\"\n\nPatrick was surprised by how cold her tone was. \"He's not exactly in the best possible state,\" he said. \"Doesn't mean we should just sit around and wait for him to die.\"\n\nTara shook her head. \"You misunderstand me,\" she said. \"I meant you won't be able to find help for him.\"\n\nPatrick hadn't wanted to consider it before, but now that Tara said it out loud, he had to admit that it was a possibility. There was no telling what they would find once they reached the next town.\n\n\"The weather's definitely a hurdle,\" he said, more to himself than to her.\n\n\"So is the motel,\" Tara added.\n\nPatrick looked at her in confusion. \"Excuse me?\"\n\nTara gave him a small smile, and Patrick felt a shudder rush through him. \"I can see why he chose you,\" she said. \"Good luck, Patrick Lahm. You'll need it.\"\n\n\"Patrick!\"\n\nPatrick turned to the sound of Harold calling, the priest rushing towards him through the rain with his coat pulled up over his head, followed closely by Kurt.\n\n\"Confess!\"\n\nPatrick turned back to Tara, but the woman was gone.\n\n***\n\n\"This is how we're doing it, period!\"\n\nJason Collick slammed his hand down hard, and the conference room fell into a vacuum-like silence. Eyes stared at him in shock. He gazed out at the men and women sitting around him, his brows furrowed, his teeth clenched. He shot daggers at them, challenging anyone to speak up, and only relaxed when he realized his anger had the desired effect.\n\nJason was known for having a level head, for being incredibly cold in the face of all matters concerning the million-dollar company. It was a character trait that annoyed many. He was a difficult man to anger, everyone knew that, which made his sudden outburst even more surprising.\n\nBut Jason knew this would be the first of many. He was losing his temper quicker these days, sleeping less, obsessing about the little stuff and, in general, spiraling completely out of control. He started seeing a therapist, the early signs of uncontrolled anger forcing him to seek out professional help, but he was just two sessions in and only getting worse.\n\nHe was feeling a lot more paranoid as well, as if someone were always out to get him. Recently, he had caught himself looking over his shoulder during his morning jogs and double-checking the locks on his door before going to sleep. Last week, he had even bought a gun.\n\n\"I've made up my mind, and I don't want any more discussions on the issue,\" Jason said, lowering his voice as he settled back down into his chair.\n\n\"Sir, we're talking fraud here,\" his CFO said, visibly uncomfortable. \"If we don't find a solution, a lot of people will lose their money.\"\n\nJason didn't reply. He knew what was at stake. It was moments like these he wished Chuck were still alive to handle things. Jason wasn't a man of the people, and he wasn't delusional either. When push came to shove, he would probably falter. His last hope was next month's meeting. They needed new investors.\n\n\"How do we look with SratTech?\" Jason asked.\n\nThe men and women at the table looked at each other anxiously, no one willing to speak their mind about the failing venture. It was a take-over that had cost the company millions and was bringing in close to nothing. Chuck had been right; it was a stupid idea, even though Jason still had hopes that he could prove everyone wrong.\n\n\"Somebody say something,\" Jason said through clenched teeth, fighting back the rage threatening to explode again.\n\n\"The numbers don't look good,\" the CFO replied, taking on the mantle of spokesperson for what everyone else was too scared to say. \"If we don't sell it off soon, we're only going to see more loss in the next quarter.\"\n\n\"The new software that they're working on should bring the numbers up,\" Jason said.\n\n\"If they had stuck to deadlines,\" the CFO replied. \"Plans leaked, and the competition's already got a prototype out. At the current pace, we'll be playing catch-up forever.\"\n\nJason sighed. He could see it on their faces, all of them looking to him for a solution deep down they knew he didn't have. None of them had faith that he could pull them out of eventual bankruptcy, and their thoughts on the matter might as well have been written across their foreheads. Still, they held their tongues.\n\n\"Light a fire under them,\" Jason said. \"Double shifts if they have to.\"\n\n\"We can't afford to pay people for overtime,\" the CFO replied. \"We're already losing a lot of money as is.\"\n\n\"Just do it!\" Jason shouted.\n\nEveryone seemed to flinch at the same time, and Jason could easily see the sudden look of fear on their faces.\n\nThat's it, he thought. I've lost them completely.\n\nJason stood up, adjusted his suit jacket and collected the files in front of him, storming out of the conference room without another word.\n\n#  Chapter 11\n\nKurt Layton turned the key in the ignition and pressed down several times on the gas. For a second, it seemed like his car would start, the engine giving a quick kick before dying. He looked out at Harold and Patrick and shrugged.\n\n\"What are the odds?\" Harold clicked his tongue.\n\nPatrick glanced towards Tara Frey's room, the light soft behind the drawn curtains. A part of him wanted to believe that she had nothing to do with their current predicament, but the coincidence was a little too much to ignore. Diana's car had a flat and no spare, and Gina's gas light had flashed on the minute they had tried to take hers.\n\n\"Connor?\" Patrick asked.\n\n\"No one's going to drive the truck after what happened,\" Harold shook his head.\n\n\"And I assume gun-toting Joe is out of the question?\"\n\n\"You assume correctly.\"\n\nPatrick sighed and scratched the back of his head. \"How many miles did Owen say it was to the next town?\"\n\n\"Ten,\" Harold replied. He turned to look at Patrick. \"I highly advise not doing what you're thinking of doing.\"\n\n\"We don't have any other option.\"\n\n\"Yes, we do,\" Harold said. \"We wait until the morning. Walking in this weather is a fool's journey.\"\n\n\"Sal could be dead by the morning,\" Patrick argued.\n\n\"And you think you can walk ten miles and get back before that?\" Harold asked, a deep scowl on his face. \"Don't be ridiculous. You'd only be putting yourself in harm's way.\"\n\n\"It's worth a shot,\" Patrick said, already making up his mind.\n\nHe didn't want to tell Harold how he really felt, that he didn't believe it would be morning any time soon. After what Tara had said to him, he was starting to feel more and more like they were in some kind of twilight zone. He knew that walking to town was stupid, but right now he just wanted to prove to himself that he could leave, that the motel wasn't actually trying to keep them in.\n\nKurt got out of his car and quickly joined them under the canopy. \"Sorry, fellas, I really thought I could get it to work that time,\" he said.\n\n\"Don't worry about it,\" Patrick said. \"You wouldn't happen to have a flashlight in there, would you?\"\n\nKurt eyed him. \"Matter of fact, I do,\" he said. \"You ain't thinking of walking, are you?\"\n\nHarold scoffed before Patrick could reply.\n\nKurt shook his head and smiled. \"You're out of your mind.\"\n\n\"Only solution we've got,\" Patrick said. \"I can't sit around here and do nothing.\"\n\nKurt licked his lips and nodded. He rushed back to his car, opened the trunk and rummaged around a bit before returning with the flashlight. He handed it to Patrick.\n\n\"You're actually condoning this?\" Harold asked.\n\nKurt shrugged. \"A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do,\" he said. \"He's already made up his mind, Father.\" He looked at Patrick and winked. \"If the storm gets any worse, you find shelter and settle down until we come get you, you hear?\"\n\n\"Sure,\" Patrick said.\n\n\"Good luck,\" Harold said. \"You'll need it.\"\n\nPatrick hesitated, remembering that Tara had said the same thing to him just moments before. He raised the torch in a mock salute, smiled at the two men, and walked away.\n\n***\n\nThey were everywhere.\n\nJason Collick rocked in his seat, his eyes darting back and forth as he fought the inner urge to scream. The dead sat at the tables, stood in various corners, some even propped up on the bar stools. They were all staring at him, their eyes dark and menacing, their scowls enough to drive him mad.\n\nHe needed to get out. Before Chuck arrived.\n\n\"Hey, man, you alright? You're looking kind of pale.\"\n\nJason froze, his eyes flying open as Chuck's face materialized from in between the rest of the dead. He instantly felt his entire body go numb, and his eyes darted for the door. The dead around him smiled.\n\n\"Confess now, Jason. Confess and all will be forgiven.\"\n\nJason stared at his dead partner as the man approached, water dripping off his suit onto the bar floor, his eyes hollow sockets. It was like looking into the pits of hell. Jason wanted to scream, but he knew that was what they wanted. They wanted him to squirm. They wanted him to beg for forgiveness. But, he wouldn't do that. He wouldn't give them the satisfaction.\n\n\"Dude, you okay?\"\n\nJason needed his gun. He looked over at the bartender who had taken it from him, the big man watching intently as Chuck approached Jason, unmoving. They were in on it. Everyone was in on it. The rest of the guests knew his secret and were tormenting him along with the ghosts around him. Jason felt his anger well up, promising himself that he would not falter. He would not give into these games. He was going to come out on top. He always did.\n\n\"Confess!\" Chuck hissed, water bursting out from his mouth. Jason's eyes fell to his partner's chest where two red spots had suddenly appeared, spreading out until they fused together and covered the entire front of his shirt.\n\n\"Confess!\"\n\n\"Leave me alone!\" Jason screamed.\n\n***\n\nCameron staggered, jolted by the man's sudden outburst. He looked at Connor who waved at him to step away. Cameron looked back at Jason, frowning.\n\n\"I was just worried about you, man,\" he said. \"No need to get angry.\"\n\n\"Get away from me,\" Jason hissed, baring his teeth. \"You're dead, you hear me? You're dead!\"\n\nCameron threw his hands up in frustration and walked back to the bar. He pulled himself up on the stool, briefly looking over his shoulder at Jason before shaking his head in disbelief.\n\n\"Can you believe this guy?\" he asked Connor.\n\nConnor shrugged and continued cleaning the glass in his hand. \"Still in shock, I guess.\"\n\n\"Good thing he doesn't have the gun,\" Cameron said. \"Who knows what he'd do with that thing.\"\n\n\"He looks harmless,\" Connor said. \"Besides, if he was going to use it, he would have already.\"\n\n\"Yeah, well I feel a lot more comfortable now that it's with you.\"\n\nConnor said nothing and just stared at Jason from across the bar.\n\n***\n\nPatrick couldn't see through the rain. He knew it was impossible, and for a few seconds, he had actually believed the storm picked up the closer he got to the motel exit. A cold wind blew against him, forcing the rain painfully against his face, and he was forced to close his eyes as he made his way forward.\n\nThe lights were still on in the office, and it acted as his lighthouse in this storm. He felt like he had been walking forever, although he knew that if he were to look back, he would find that he was no more than twenty yards away from where he had started. Yet, the feeling was there.\n\nThe neon sign of the Kurtain Motel loomed in front of him, lights flickering on and off as the sign swayed in the wind. He quickly ducked under the front office canopy, hoping for some shelter from the weather's onslaught during the last few yards, but the storm followed. The wind rushed at him from every direction, the rain hitting him like rubber bullets against his cheeks and neck.\n\nThis is absurd.\n\nPatrick pulled the collar of his coat up higher and pressed on, determined now more than ever to leave. If the motel really was keeping them here, he needed to see it for himself. He hardly believed Owen's story, and he didn't care how cryptic Tara and her son were being. The truth of the matter was that a man was dying and needed help.\n\nPatrick wasn't going to let bad weather slow him down. He braced himself and dashed out of the canopy's cover. He raced passed the flickering neon sign, his eyes looking past the curtain of rain and at the highway beyond, when everything suddenly went dark.\n\nPatrick couldn't explain it, but for a split second, it was as if he were suspended in a dark void, his legs touching nothing beneath him, his movements slow and heavy. He gasped for air, the darkness around him a deep vacuum that threatened to suffocate him. He felt his chest burn, his mind completely numb, and that was when the hand grabbed him.\n\nHe couldn't see it, but he definitely felt it. Fingers wrapped around the front collar of his shirt, grasping tight, and pulled him forward. There was a loud popping sound in his ears, and he was suddenly propelled forward, landing hard on his hands and knees.\n\nThe rain had stopped, but the wind still hit at him, the cold reaching into his coat and seeping down his back. Patrick gasped for breath, feeling like he had spent an eternity in the void, the murkiness of it still heavy on his skin. He coughed and spat, his chest still burning as he slowly pushed himself up to his feet.\n\n\"Patrick?\"\n\nPatrick looked up, and even though he was surrounded by darkness, the moonlight was enough for him to make out the shocked look on Harold Bell and Kurt Layton's faces.\n\n***\n\nConnor was wiping down the bar when the lights went out.\n\nCameron had been dragging on and on about his baseball career, but Connor was barely listening. He was more amused by how quickly the kid had given up all attempts at keeping his identity a secret, chatting away excitedly as if he had been locked away and finally found people to talk to. Connor wasn't interested, though, his concentration more on the man in the corner and Owen.\n\n\"What the hell?\" Cameron called out, annoyed that he had been so abruptly interrupted.\n\nConnor sighed. He had a feeling this would happen, especially since nothing had been done to fix the roof of the generator room since the last storm had brought their attention to the leaks. Connor knew it was only a matter of time before the rain would get in, but had hoped that they could at least make it through the night without having to worry about feeling their way around in the dark.\n\n\"I thought you said this place had back-up generators,\" Cameron said.\n\n\"We were working on those,\" Owen replied as Connor turned instinctively towards the drawer behind him and took out the candles stocked up inside. \"We lost power hours ago when the storm first hit.\"\n\n\"And now the generators are a bust?\"\n\nConnor took out his lighter and lit the first candle, setting it near the small sink. \"Sal's responsible for making sure this doesn't happen,\" he said, lighting a second. \"I guess we're on our own now.\"\n\nCameron shook his head in disbelief and leaned over the bar, grabbing one of the glasses and a bottle of whiskey. He poured himself a drink and downed it before refilling his glass.\n\n\"Just when I needed the bathroom, too,\" he said, reaching out a hand and beckoning Connor for a candle.\n\nConnor handed one to him and pointed to the left. \"Just watch your step, alright? We don't need any more accidents.\"\n\nCameron scoffed and slid off his seat, holding the candle in front of him as he walked away. Connor watched him disappear before turning back to light another stick.\n\n\"I hope he trips and breaks his neck in there,\" Owen muttered in the darkness. \"I'm going to shoot myself if I have to listen to another one of his stories.\"\n\nConnor made his way around the bar and set a candle in front of his boss, looking at him disapprovingly.\n\n\"Not really the best time to be saying things like that,\" Connor remarked.\n\n\"Sal was an accident,\" Owen said, his head lowered and his eyes sunken in the dim glow of the candlelight.\n\n\"I know that,\" Connor replied, \"but the rest of these folks don't. If I were you, boss, I'd keep my thoughts to myself right now.\"\n\nOwen looked up angrily, about to reply, when his eyes suddenly grew wide. Connor registered the expression a second too late, the blow against his head blacking him out immediately as he fell forward and collapsed onto the table.\n\n***\n\nJimmy Frey stood silently in the dark, leaning against the railing as he watched the three men below. He had witnessed Patrick's attempt to leave the motel, how one second the man was walking out, and in the next, falling back in. He could sense the confusion, disbelief, and the utter frustration, but he kept his mouth shut. There was no need to draw attention to himself right now. It would only complicate what had to be done.\n\nTara walked up behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder.\n\n\"You pulled him out,\" Jimmy said, glancing back.\n\nTara nodded. \"It wasn't easy,\" she said. \"You were right about him.\"\n\nJimmy looked back at Patrick and smiled before pushing away from the railing and hugging his mother. The motel seemed a lot more eerie now that the power was out, but he felt safe in Tara's arms.\n\n\"You're putting too much pressure on yourself,\" he said. \"You need to rest.\"\n\nTara smiled at her son and kissed his head. \"When we're done here,\" she said. \"I'll rest when it's all over.\"\n\nJimmy hugged her tighter and followed her into the room, closing the door behind them. He felt tingles run up and down his spine, excited about Patrick Lahm and what was to come. He had never met anyone like him before, and that just made it all the more interesting. He was curious to see what the man would do next.\n\n\"Don't turn on the lights,\" Tara said as Jimmy reached for the lamp by his side. \"The power's out, remember?\"\n\nJimmy nodded. Sometimes he forgot that he had to play along.\n\nTara smiled and turned to the bathroom when a sudden gasp escaped from her.\n\n\"What is it?\" Jimmy asked, but he already knew the answer to his question. He felt it race through him as an image flashed before his eyes.\n\nJason Collick had his gun.\n\n#  Chapter 12\n\n\"So what's your deal?\"\n\nGina glanced up at the actress. Diana was sitting on a chair by the window, having had moved it as close to the door as possible. The curtains were drawn, and the only light in the room came from the bedside lamp. Diana hadn't said a word since they brought Sal into the room, and she was useless when it came to taking care of him. Gina was left to carry the burden on her own, not that she minded much. It took her mind off of what she had seen.\n\n\"What do you mean?\" Gina asked.\n\n\"I'm pretty good at reading people,\" Diana replied. \"Every single one of the guests here seems to be hiding something, but you, you're different.\"\n\nGina took the towel off Sal's head, soaked it in the bucket by the bed, and replaced it. He had spiked a fever, which wasn't surprising, but definitely made things a lot more complicated. She was hoping help would arrive in time, because the way things looked now, Sal wasn't going to survive the night.\n\n\"I'm just a regular city girl,\" Gina said, giving Diana a weak smile.\n\n\"Bullshit,\" Diana replied. \"You've got a baker's daughter look, and you're definitely a few pounds away from a heart attack, but you aren't regular.\"\n\nGina felt the woman's words cut at her, and she bit her lower lip in an attempt to stop herself from tearing up. It surprised her how much some things still hurt her.\n\n\"Take your car, for instance,\" Diana continued. \"I'm not a fan of Bentleys, but it's an impressive car. And your shoes? Louis Vuitton, right?\"\n\nGina glanced at her shoes and said nothing, instinctively hiding her heels under her chair. She had meant to change into sneakers earlier, but had apparently forgotten in the midst of all that was going on.\n\n\"Oh, come on, don't be coy,\" Diana said. \"Flaunt your money for all I care. It definitely takes the edge off of everything else.\"\n\nGina felt she had had enough. \"What is everything else?\" she snapped, frowning at Diana.\n\nDiana held up her hands in mock surrender. \"Whatever,\" she said. \"The world's a funny place, I guess.\"\n\nGina shook her head in disbelief. She was used to this kind of talk, petty jealousy from those who didn't have as much money as she did, people who obviously thought that just because she was overweight, she had to be down on her luck in every other department of her life as well. It angered her sometimes, but usually she just felt sorry for them.\n\nDiana didn't deserve her pity, though, and Gina didn't intend to let her off so easily.\n\n\"So you're saying it isn't fair, is that it?\" Gina pressed, eyeing the actress scornfully.\n\nDiana looked at her for a beat before leaning forward, willing to take on the challenge. \"No, it isn't,\" she said. \"You have no idea what I had to go through to get where I am. I didn't have a silver spoon in my mouth the minute I was born.\"\n\nGina's eyes went wide. \"Do you think I inherited this?\" she asked in disbelief. \"That's fresh. You say you worked hard? I bet you didn't have to do more than bat your pretty little eyelashes to get what you wanted. You're on every single billboard, flashing that smile of yours, posing all sexy for the camera. Even with your god-awful movies, you're still an American sweetheart. I might not know what you had to go through to become the fantasy of every teenage boy in the country, but don't presume to know what I've been through.\"\n\nGina stood up and marched to Diana, a finger pointed in the woman's face. \"I know women like you, ex-cheerleaders who thought the world would bow to them once they left high school, but ended up in some trailer park doing some drunk man's laundry. I've had to deal with your kind all my life, and the one thing I won't put up with is your bigotry!\"\n\nDiana looked up at her angrily. \"Get your finger out of my face before I break it,\" she hissed.\n\nGina smiled, feeling a rush of satisfaction race through her, knowing that she had gotten under the actress's skin. It was refreshing to see the pretty ones squirm. It didn't happen often, it was usually her mother who did the talking, but on the rare occasions she did stand up for herself, she loved every second of it. She could see the pain behind Diana's eyes, and she knew she had probably hit close to home.\n\n\"You want to stay in this room, then keep your opinions to yourself,\" Gina said, stepping back. \"You're absolutely useless anyway.\"\n\nDiana stared at the woman as she walked back to Sal's bedside and sat down, checking the dying man's bandages and soaking the towel on his head again. Diana felt the anger inside her well up, her hands clenched into fists that shook with rage. She had never thought she could hate someone this much, and for reasons beyond her, couldn't understand how she didn't have the upper hand over the woman.\n\nFeeling like she couldn't let this slide, Diana stood up angrily, ready to tell Gina off, when the lights suddenly went out.\n\n***\n\n\"What are we going to do, man?\"\n\nCameron paced back and forth in a frantic frenzy, the hotel suite feeling much smaller as he imagined the walls closing in on him. His manager was on one knee next to the dead girl's body, checking for a pulse.\n\n\"She's dead, isn't she?\" Cameron stammered. \"Oh, man, she's dead, right?\"\n\n\"Would you shut the hell up?\" his manager snapped. Cameron watched him grab a towel and wipe his hands, tossing the stained cloth aside. \"This is a whole different level of crap, Cameron.\"\n\n\"Man, we were just having fun,\" Cameron said. \"How was I supposed to know she was overdosing?\"\n\n\"Oh, I don't know,\" his manager looked at him angrily. \"The vomiting of blood should have been a pretty sure sign!\"\n\n\"Hey, man, don't talk to me like that!\"\n\nCameron's eyes widened, surprised by how fast his manager got to his feet and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.\n\n\"I suggest you shut the hell up so I can find a way to get you out of another one of your many messes,\" the man spat. He pushed Cameron onto the couch and pointed at him angrily. \"Don't move!\"\n\nThe manager took out his cellphone, looked at Cameron in disgust and made his way into another room.\n\nCameron shook in his place, feeling a sudden drop in the room's temperature. He glanced at the dead brunette lying on the floor a few feet away, her eyes staring lifelessly at the ceiling, her mouth caked in dried blood. She was one of the pretty ones, and wild enough to excite him into upping his dose tonight. Obviously, that had been a mistake.\n\nHe felt his pulse racing and his body began to shiver uncontrollably when his manager walked back in.\n\n\"Jesus, don't go into shock on me now,\" he said, grabbing a blanket off the couch and throwing it to Cameron. \"I called for help. Try not to die on me before we're done cleaning this mess up.\"\n\nCameron wrapped himself in the blanket and tried to control his shaking. His manager cursed and took out his cellphone.\n\n\"Stay with me, kid!\"\n\nBefore he could answer, Cameron's eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped down onto the floor beside the dead girl.\n\n***\n\nCameron was washing his hands when he smelled the smoke.\n\nAt first, he thought it was from the candle, the light coming from it only enough to throw dark shadows across the walls of the bathroom. It had been a hurdle trying to piss with it in his hand, but he had quickly found a way to keep it balanced between the wall and a bar of soap. He looked at it, the black smoke rising from the flame, and realized that the scent couldn't have been this strong.\n\nSomething's burning.\n\nCameron quickly turned off the water and wiped his hands on his jeans. He ran a hand through his hair, gazing at his reflection in the mirror as he tried to comb loose strains into place with his fingers. The smell was getting heavier, and Cameron coughed as invisible fingers of smoke reached into his open mouth and down his throat, stinging him.\n\nWhat the hell's going on out there?\n\n\"Confess.\"\n\nThe voice was barely a whisper, but in the empty bathroom, it echoed off the walls and sent shivers down his spine. He froze in his place, staring into the mirror as a form materialized behind him, stepping out from the shadows. Cameron felt his heart beat quicken as he gazed into the reflection of the smiling brunette, blood caked to her lips, white as a sheet even in the warm glow of the candlelight.\n\n\"Confess, Cameron,\" she whispered, seductively, dangerously.\n\nCameron jerked when her cold hand touched the nape of his neck, and he watched in horror as the candle dropped into the sink and went out, engulfing the bathroom in complete darkness.\n\n\"Confess.\"\n\nHer lips were by his ear, her breath rotten, her whispers like nails against a blackboard. Cameron pushed away from the sink, blindly rushing to where he thought the door was. A hand ripped at his shirt, nails digging deep into his flesh as he pulled away while crying out in pain. He could feel the sting down his back as he was suddenly propelled forward, crashing hard against the wall as the woman's weight pushed against him.\n\nShe giggled behind him, a hand reaching forward and grabbing him where he didn't want to be grabbed, squeezing until he screamed and writhed against her.\n\n\"Confess,\" her haunting voice slithered into his ear. \"Confess what you did to me. How you threw me out like a dog!\"\n\nCameron placed both hands against the wall and pushed, throwing his weight back as he fell over and onto the bathroom floor. The woman's hand was gone, but her giggles only intensified until he was deafened by manic screams of delight. Cameron rolled onto his hands and knees, kicking as he jumped forward, slamming against the door and flinging himself outside.\n\nThe smoke instantly filled his lungs, and Cameron recoiled against the heat of the fire that was spreading through the bar. He caught sight of Owen pulling an unconscious Connor towards the exit, waving frantically for Cameron's help.\n\nCameron looked back over his shoulder, the light from the fire barely illuminating the bathroom. The woman stood in the doorway, her smile wide, twirling her fingers at him as she bit her lower lip.\n\n\"You're mine, Cameron,\" she giggled. \"Tonight, you're all mine.\"\n\nCameron ran.\n\n***\n\n\"This is all beyond me, Patrick.\"\n\nHarold stared out past the Kurtain Motel's entrance at the highway beyond. Patrick had tried to explain what had happened as best he could, hoping that his recalling of the few seconds in the void would make more sense to the priest than it did to him. Harold just shook his head in bewilderment, frowning as they both tried to fathom how Patrick was still inside the motel parking lot.\n\n\"Kurt?\" Patrick looked at the older man, hoping for some help.\n\nKurt shrugged. \"I've never seen anything like it,\" he said. \"Makes me wonder if that Owen fella wasn't mad after all.\"\n\n\"You think the same thing happened to him?\" Harold asked.\n\n\"It would explain what he was saying about not seeing Sal,\" Kurt replied, pulling out a rolled up cigarette and lighting it. The tip burned a bright orange in the otherwise dark motel.\n\nHarold glanced at Patrick and shrugged, unable to find a better explanation.\n\n\"First things first,\" Kurt said. \"We gotta do something about the power.\"\n\nPatrick nodded as he looked about the dark motel. He had no idea when the lights had gone out, but it must have happened while he was in limbo. He remembered the neon sign flickering next to him when he was trying to leave.\n\n\"So, this void,\" Harold turned to look at Patrick. \"You say someone pulled you out?\"\n\nPatrick was about to reply when Kurt tapped his shoulder urgently. \"Fellas, I think the bar's on fire.\"\n\nPatrick turned to look at where the old man was pointing and stared in shock at the flames. He caught sight of a figure rushing away from the bar, and he squinted, trying to make out who it was.\n\n\"There are people in there!\" Harold yelled, pushing Patrick forward and breaking into a run towards the fire.\n\nPatrick followed instantly, dazed from his shock, barely keeping up with the priest.\n\n***\n\nJason Collick hurried away from the burning bar. He held his gun tight in his hand, almost tripping as he constantly looked over his shoulder. Black smoke escaped through the open door of the bar, rushing out in a large cloud and disappearing amidst the darkness. He could see the flames licking at the wooden interior, the fire inside raging out of control.\n\nIt had taken him a few seconds to respond to the fallen candle, the sawdust on the bar floor igniting almost immediately in a frenzy of flames. Jason had ignored the little man's wails, taking his gun from the bartender's belt and rushing out into the night where he thought he would be safe.\n\nLet them burn! Let them all burn!\n\nBut he wasn't safe. The dead raced out, following him, their eyes set on Jason as he made his escape. He had hoped they couldn't leave the bar, that the flames would engulf them and rid him of their hollow stares and hissing voices. He would have no peace, though, and as he quickened his pace, the dead began to run towards him.\n\n\"Hey!\"\n\nJason looked over his shoulder and almost screamed out as he saw Chuck rushing forward. The man was quick, neither affected by his wet suit nor the bullets in his chest. The side of his face that wasn't attached to the rest of his skull flapped in the wind as he raced forward, his smile crazed.\n\n\"Confess, Jason!\" Chuck screamed into the night. \"Confess!\"\n\nTerror-stricken, Jason tripped and fell hard onto the asphalt, watching in horror as Chuck advanced on him.\n\n\"Hey, man, stop!\" Chuck yelled.\n\nJason raised his gun and fired.\n\n***\n\n\"The bar's on fire!\"\n\nGina jumped up from the bed and raced to where Diana stood, holding the drapes aside as the flames danced across their reflections in the window.\n\nGina had tried her best to ignore the actress as she bitched and moaned about the power, happy that at least for the moment, the woman's attention was elsewhere. She only spoke up when Diana used her cellphone as a flashlight, reminding her that it would only kill her battery and there would be no way to recharge.\n\nShe hated how Diana had sneered at her, spitting more distasteful insults, but the fight was all out of Gina. She had her five minutes of glory. It was all she could muster for one night. She would let the actress win a few rounds for now.\n\nSal had finally woken up when Diana mentioned the fire, whispering something inaudible, but Gina's attention was elsewhere. She stood next to Diana in shock as they watched the flames burst through the bar windows, black smoke bellowing out. She could make out Owen and Connor lying on the ground in front of the flames, too close for comfort.\n\n\"Come on,\" Gina said, rushing towards the door.\n\n\"Where are you going?\" Diana asked. \"Are you out of your mind?\"\n\nGina opened the door and stared at Diana in disbelief. \"They need our help,\" she said, finding it hard to believe that she had to state the obvious.\n\n\"I'm not going anywhere,\" Diana replied.\n\nGina stared at her for a brief moment before they both flinched at the sudden sound of gunfire.\n\n***\n\nCameron heaved, his hands grasped tightly around Connor's arm as Owen pulled from the other. He could feel the strain of the bartender's weight against his back, and he only let go when they had dragged the man as far away from the fire as possible.\n\nCameron bent over, gasping for breath, coughing out the smoke that had infiltrated his lungs. Owen dropped onto the ground beside him and pointed frantically towards the pool.\n\n\"That bastard has his gun!\" Owen stammered. \"He has a gun, dammit!\"\n\nCameron looked up and saw Jason Collick rushing away, halfway past the pool, towards the motel's second wing. He didn't think twice and immediately gave chase, pushing past the stinging pain in his chest.\n\n\"Hey!\" he called out after Jason.\n\nThe man turned around, and seeing Cameron racing towards him, quickened his pace.\n\nOh, no you don't!\n\nCameron picked up speed, rushing forward through the wind that pushed back against him. From the corner of his eye, he imagined seeing a boy sitting on one of the lounge chairs beside the pool, watching him intently. Cameron shook the feeling away, his focus set on catching up with Jason.\n\n\"Hey, man, stop!\"\n\nJason turned back again, and Cameron smiled when he watched him trip and fall.\n\nNow I got you.\n\nHe saw the gun a few seconds too late.\n\n***\n\nPatrick raced forward as soon as he saw the sparks erupt from the gun, followed by the deafening sounds of the gunshots. He could see Jason Collick clearly now, and Patrick yelled out in rage as Cameron Turk's body swirled and fell to the ground.\n\nHe shot Cameron! The bastard actually shot him!\n\nJason turned to Patrick and Harold, shifting his aim and firing again. Patrick felt a body slam against him just as a bullet grazed his shoulder, pain immediately bursting up and down his arm. He fell hard, Harold holding him down as they watched Jason jump to his feet and run towards the motel's second wing, the one Owen had told them was being renovated.\n\nPatrick pushed Harold off him forcefully, fully intent on chasing the man to the far ends of hell if he had to, but Harold's old grasp was strong.\n\n\"Don't be stupid, Patrick!\" Harold yelled. \"Use your head! The man has a gun!\"\n\nPatrick struggled against Harold's grip, but the priest was stronger than he had imagined, pinning him down and keeping him as immobile as possible. Gina raced out from behind the corner, kicking off her heels as she fell to her knees beside Cameron's still body. He watched as she shook at him, calling out his name over and over again, more frantically each time. There was no response from Cameron.\n\nPatrick cried out in rage. Looking past Gina, he caught sight of a young boy sitting cross-legged on a pool lounge, staring out at them from within the shadows.\n\nJimmy Frey stood up slowly, walked in the opposite direction of the pool and disappeared.\n\n#  Chapter 13\n\n\"You can't just leave!\"\n\nGina Andrews lowered her eyes and sighed, grabbing a few more clothes from her closet and folding them softly into her small suitcase. Her mother watched her angrily, her eyes blazing and her hands on her hips, infuriated by Gina's lack of response.\n\n\"You have responsibilities!\" she said. \"You leave no one in charge, and everything collapses.\"\n\n\"Mother, that's not true,\" Gina said, avoiding the older woman's gaze. \"I'm leaving you in charge.\"\n\n\"And who says I want this?\"\n\nGina almost broke out laughing. Ever since the company had made its first million, her mother had wanted to push her to the sidelines and take over. Gina made it a point not to give the woman too much power, making sure she was responsible for enough to keep her content, but not to make any serious changes. For years, she could see it in the older woman's eyes; she wanted the company. She actually believed that she deserved it.\n\n\"I'm sorry, mother,\" Gina said. \"I'm going to have to burden you with it all for just a few days. I'll be back by Monday.\"\n\nHer mother sighed and looked up, faking her frustration. \"Fine, I'll do what I can. It's not like I have the ability to be of any real use.\"\n\nGina glanced at her mother and then turned away, unable to meet the woman's eyes for too long. She couldn't help it; her mother intimidated her.\n\n\"It's procedural stuff,\" Gina said. \"The new launch isn't for another four weeks, so don't worry, you won't be hassled by it all.\"\n\n\"Actually,\" her mother cut in. \"I had a few ideas for that.\"\n\n\"I'm sure you do,\" Gina muttered.\n\n\"Excuse me?\"\n\nGina looked up at her mother and smiled, her face turning a bright red. \"Nothing, mother,\" she said quickly. \"We can talk about it when I get back.\"\n\n\"Or I can get it done while you're away and save us some time.\"\n\n\"I thought you didn't want the burdens of running the company,\" Gina said.\n\n\"Well, if I'm going to have to do it anyway.\"\n\n\"It's okay,\" Gina said, giving her mother the best reassuring smile she could muster. \"I'll be back before you know it and we'll have enough time to discuss whatever you need.\"\n\nHer mother's frown deepened, and Gina quickly turned away, knowing that she would never hear the end of this. It didn't matter, though. She needed to get as far away from all this as possible, particularly her mother. Any more push, and she might just give in to her mother's wishes, and she knew that would only end in a disaster.\n\n\"At least tell me where you're going,\" her mother cut through her thoughts.\n\n\"I'm not sure, yet,\" Gina said. \"You can reach me on my cellphone.\"\n\nHer mother puffed. \"Typical,\" she said. \"Your father did the same thing all the time. It's disgusting how alike the two of you are.\"\n\nGina froze, the mention of her father always a sore point in their conversation. For ten years now, her mother still wasn't tired of bringing it up whenever she thought it would hurt Gina the most. It was one of the things she hated about the woman.\n\n\"Then again, you are daddy's little girl, aren't you?\" her mother sneered.\n\nGina felt tears well up in her eyes and quickly brushed them away. She looked at her mother angrily and pointed to the door.\n\n\"Get out,\" Gina whispered.\n\n\"What did you say to me?\" her mother frowned.\n\n\"Get out!\" Gina screamed. \"Get out, get out, get out!\"\n\nThe older woman's eyes widened in shock at her daughter's sudden outburst, and without another word, she hurried out of the room.\n\nGina slammed her suitcase shut, sat down heavily on the side of her bed, and burst into tears.\n\n***\n\nPatrick pounded his fist against the door to room 219.\n\nHe was enraged. So many things were happening at the same time, so much inexplicable incidents one after the other, that he feared he was going completely insane. He felt like he could handle the consistent night and rain, and maybe even come to some kind of terms with the fact that no one could actually leave the motel. But now a man was dead, and a second dying, and the entirety of the world around him that just yesterday had made complete sense was slowly falling apart.\n\nPatrick wanted answers, and he knew exactly where to find them.\n\nHe pounded on the door again, catching the sound of a quick shuffling of feet as someone moved inside. He tried to look through the window by the door, but the drapes were drawn. Frustrated, he kicked at the door several times before it finally opened.\n\nTara Frey stared out at him from the darkness of the room, her hair perfectly framing her face, her gaze serious. She did not look like a woman who took kindly to intrusions, her eyes fixed sternly on him, but Patrick couldn't care less.\n\n\"Where's your son?\" Patrick asked, teeth clenched in rage, his fists shaking.\n\nTara was just an inch or two shorter than him, and with the door only slightly open, she blocked any chance of looking past her and into the room. He stared her down threateningly, almost as if he could move her out of the way with just his gaze.\n\nTara didn't reply.\n\n\"Where is your son?\" Patrick asked again, slower, stressing on each word that came out of his mouth.\n\nTara cocked her head to one side. \"What do you want from him?\"\n\nPatrick took deep breaths, knowing that if the woman stalled any longer, he might just hit her. Right now, he was on autopilot, driven entirely by emotion, logic thrown out the window completely.\n\n\"Answers,\" Patrick hissed. \"He knows what's going on in this damned motel, and he is going to tell me everything, or I swear to you, I'll have everyone crashing into this room and pulling the both of you out by your hair.\"\n\nTara smiled, amused by Patrick's misplaced confidence. \"Mr. Lahm, I don't believe you'll find what you're looking for here.\"\n\nPatrick lost all control and rushed forward, pushing past her into the darkness. He found Jimmy sitting next to the window, watching him intently, in much the same way he had seen him sitting at the pool. Patrick made for the boy, but before he could get within a few feet, he felt a strong hand grab him by the arm and twist painfully.\n\nPatrick cried out as he dropped to one knee, looking up at his attacker, slightly confused as to how comfortable she looked while pinning him down. He tried to break free of her hold, but that only made things worse as something clicked in his elbow and fire shot up his arm.\n\n\"You're hurting him,\" Jimmy said softly, his eyes fixated on Patrick as the man squirmed under Tara's grip.\n\n\"Believe me, I'd do the same to her if I had the chance,\" Patrick said, trying to remain completely still, unwilling to endure any more pain.\n\n\"She's a little protective,\" Jimmy smiled. The boy got up, walked past Patrick and closed the door. He switched on a lamp on his way back, and Patrick closed his eyes against the sudden brightness.\n\n\"We should remain in the dark,\" Tara said to her son.\n\nJimmy shrugged. \"No one can see us. They're all in the manager's apartment.\"\n\n\"How do you have power?\" Patrick asked, looking from Jimmy to Tara and back again.\n\n\"This place is untainted,\" Tara replied, slightly loosening her grip and raising an eyebrow questioningly.\n\nPatrick nodded, assuring her he would behave, and she let go of his arm.\n\n\"Rules bend here,\" Jimmy said with a smile, returning to his seat.\n\nPatrick flexed and extended his arm, loosening the knots in his muscles and shaking the pain away.\n\n\"You were at the pool,\" he said to Jimmy.\n\nJimmy nodded. \"I was.\"\n\n\"You saw what happened,\" Patrick continued. \"Did you know?\"\n\nJimmy nodded again.\n\n\"Why didn't you warn us?\" Patrick's voice rose. \"You didn't even try to stop it!\"\n\n\"He's thirteen,\" Tara said, crossing the room and sitting on the bed. \"What was he supposed to do?\" She crossed her legs, closed her eyes and lowered her head.\n\n\"He could have said something to any of us,\" Patrick said. He turned back to Jimmy. \"How did you know? How could you possibly know?\"\n\nJimmy glanced at his mother, checking for any kind of reaction, and when it seemed like she would not protest, he sighed and unfolded his legs. He slid off his seat and sat down in front of Patrick, staring directly in his eyes.\n\n\"I know things,\" Jimmy said. \"Things people shouldn't know. Things that I wish I never knew.\"\n\nPatrick frowned. \"Like the rain?\"\n\nJimmy nodded. \"And the spiders.\"\n\nPatrick felt his heart jump. \"How do you know about the spiders?\"\n\n\"I know you hear voices, that your dreams are disturbed, that you're plagued by your sins,\" Jimmy replied. \"It's the same with everyone else here. It's the reason why all this is happening.\"\n\nPatrick sat frozen in place, gazing at the boy in disbelief. He felt like he was in a dream again, and in a few seconds he would see spiders crawl out of Jimmy's orifices and make their way towards him, promising to swallow him whole. He would wake up, screaming, and all would be as it was. Harold would be at the bar, Cameron would be alive, and the rain would still be falling.\n\nJimmy gave him a sad smile and shook his head. \"You're not dreaming.\"\n\nPatrick opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out. He was at a loss for words, helpless to make any sense of his situation. He felt like he was back in the void, lost in its murky nothingness, unable to breathe. The world was closing in around him, suffocating him, a strong sense of claustrophobia engulfed him.\n\n\"You're losing him,\" Tara said from the bed. \"Maybe he's not as strong as you thought he was.\"\n\nPatrick blinked and shook his head. He turned to find the woman staring directly at him, watching him as a scientist would observe a test subject, waiting for the desired results. All she needed was a lab coat and clipboard, and Patrick could safely say he had gone completely mad. That all this, the motel, the book signing, the spiders, everything, was just in his head. It was the only logical explanation. He had gone crazy and was hallucinating.\n\nJimmy snapped his fingers. \"Stay with me, Mr. Lahm,\" the boy said.\n\n\"I'm sorry,\" Patrick frowned, feeling the beginnings of a migraine manifest itself. \"I'm a little confused.\"\n\n\"I know,\" Jimmy said. \"This was quite a shock for me, too. Luckily, my mother was around to help me through it.\"\n\n\"Through what?\"\n\nJimmy sighed and looked at his mother for assurance, and the woman nodded at him.\n\n\"The sins,\" Jimmy said. \"Everyone has them, and they hang about a person like an ugly black cloud. You don't see them, nobody does, but you can feel them. The guilt, the fear, the what-if's. They rule you, push you in directions you would have otherwise never thought of taking. They dig their way deep into your soul until they become a part of you that you can never rid yourself of.\"\n\n\"You can see that?\"\n\nJimmy nodded. \"And a lot more. I can see how black it turns a person's soul, and when that darkness becomes heavy, when you can lose yourself in it, they come for you.\"\n\n\"Who are they?\"\n\n\"Soul collectors,\" Tara spoke up. \"They find the darkest of us, the ones with the greatest sins, and they come for us. They bring your sins to life, manifest them in ways that could drive a person insane, or worse.\"\n\nPatrick shook his head quickly, knowing that there was no sensible explanation to anything he was hearing. \"I've never heard of anything like that before.\"\n\nJimmy smiled. \"There are a lot of things out there people have never heard of before,\" he said. \"It doesn't mean they aren't there.\"\n\n\"And you think the man who killed Cameron is one of these, what do you call them?\"\n\n\"Soul collectors,\" Jimmy replied. \"We're not sure. It's why I couldn't say anything.\"\n\nPatrick looked at Tara for confirmation, but the woman's eyes were closed again. She looked like she was meditating, but her mouth was moving, soft whispers filling the room. Patrick tried to make out what she was saying, but the language was foreign to him.\n\n\"The truth is, soul collectors possess their victims, so it's not always easy to spot them. Jason Collick might just be haunted by his sins. I'm not sure if he's confessed yet.\"\n\nPatrick's head turned quickly to the boy. \"What did you say?\"\n\n\"Confession,\" Jimmy replied. \"It's how they possess your body. When you confess.\"\n\nA loud clap of thunder startled Patrick, and he looked out the window as rain fell in sheets, sudden and without warning.\n\nTara's eyes opened. \"It's starting again.\"\n\n***\n\nGina's cellphone rang.\n\n\"You have a working phone?\" Diana asked, startled by the sound.\n\nGina looked at her, then to the others. Heat rose to her cheeks. She was very uncomfortable with being the center of attention. The night was taking a toll on her, and she was extremely exhausted. She didn't need the extra burden of having to explain why her phone only seemed to work when her mother wanted to call her. She quickly pulled her cellphone out, cancelled, and set it to airplane mode.\n\n\"It's an alarm,\" she lied, holding up her phone to show her audience the empty bars.\n\nHer comment had the desired effect, with most of the guests returning to what they had been doing before the shrill sound of the ringing broke the uncomfortable silence. Diana, however, was squinting at her in disbelief. Gina avoided the other woman's gaze and quickly left the small apartment, stepping out into the cold night and walking as far away from earshot as possible.\n\nGina looked back to make sure no one was following her, and took her cellphone out again. Before she could do anything, it began to ring again, and she cried out and dropped it. Her mother's name flashed on the screen, a menacing reminder that no matter what Gina did, the older woman would continue to harass her until she answered.\n\nGina bent down and retrieved her phone, noticing that it was still on airplane mode, and looked over her shoulder again at the apartment. Diana was watching her through the window, and Gina quickly pocketed the phone and walked further away towards the pool. She passed through the gates and sat down heavily on a lounge chair, staring dumbfounded at her screen as it flashed, urging her to act.\n\n\"Hello?\" Gina finally answered.\n\n\"Where the hell have you been?\" her mother screamed from the other line. \"I've been trying to reach you for days!\"\n\nGina winced at the shrill sound of the other woman, a rude reminder of why she had been ignoring the calls and how answering her phone was a big mistake.\n\n\"Mother, it's barely been a day,\" Gina said.\n\n\"A day!\" her mother yelled. \"Are you high again? Where are you?\"\n\nGina looked about the dark motel and towards the burnt-down bar. \"Just outside Hartford, at a motel.\"\n\n\"Good,\" her mother said. \"Get in your car and drive back here immediately. You should be back by dusk,\"\n\nGina frowned and looked at the time on her phone, the digital numbers telling her it was still midnight. What was her mother talking about?\n\n\"Are you listening to me?\"\n\nGina replaced her phone on her ear. \"What time is it?\" she asked.\n\nHer mother sighed, clearly irritated by her daughter's question. \"What have you been smoking, Gina?\"\n\n\"Nothing!\" Gina's voice rose, echoing through the dark. She could almost sense her mother flinch on the other line. Gina quickly calmed herself down. \"Nothing, mother, I haven't been smoking. Just tell me what time it is.\"\n\n\"It's ten in the morning,\" her mother answered, clearly unhappy that she had been yelled out, her tone ringing promises of reprisal. \"We have a lot of problems here, and I expect you back today.\"\n\n\"Ten in the morning?\" Gina asked.\n\n\"Listen to me, you spoilt cow,\" her mother suddenly hissed. \"I don't care if you're on another one of your pitiful bouts of depression, or if you're going cross-country and sleeping with every homeless idiot willing to disregard your ugly mounds and stick it to you anyway. For all I care, you can whore yourself to an entire biker gang until they screw the fat off you! But you will do as I say, Gina Dolores Andrews, or I will find you and bring you back in pieces.\"\n\nGina felt her mother's words hit her like a punch to the gut, her eyes wide, her hands shaking as she took it all in. Only, it didn't sound like her mother. The woman's voice changed, became much deeper, angrier, spitting her horrid words in pure disgust. She had never talked to Gina in that way before, although her eyes had usually portrayed what she was thinking. Gina knew her mother had no love for her, not since high school anyway, and she was finally voicing her true feelings.\n\n\"What? Surprised?\" her mother sneered. \"I know what you really are. You don't deserve your success or your money, or the fancy clothes you wear to hide the ugliness inside you. Do you think I don't know? Do you think he never told me?\"\n\nGina's body shook uncontrollably, her mind urging her to hang up now before the conversation grew any uglier, but she couldn't do it. A part of her believed that even if she did hang up, she would still be able to hear her mother.\n\n\"I know everything, Gina, and one day I'm going to make you pay for what you did. I'm going to make you squirm at my feet when I take everything away from you.\"\n\n\"Mother, I...\"\n\n\"Don't you 'mother' me!\" the older woman screamed, and Gina dropped her phone.\n\nShe hugged herself and began to rock back and forth, crying freely now, her mind spinning with what she had heard, her mother's voice still screaming from the cellphone on the ground.\n\n\"Confess!\" Gina heard her mother screaming. \"Confess your sins, you little bitch!\"\n\nGina kicked her phone into the pool.\n\n***\n\n\"Confess!\"\n\nSal opened his eyes, his lids heavy. He hurt everywhere, the pain cutting at every part of his body. He could feel the heat coursing through him, numbing him, yet not enough to mask the agony he was going through. He turned his head slightly to one side and looked out at his room.\n\n\"Confess!\"\n\nThe voice was close, but even with his eyes open, his vision was blurry and Sal couldn't make out where the sound was coming from. The room was dark except for the moonlight coming through the large window, creating shadows everywhere. Sal knew he was probably imagining the voice, a byproduct of his fever, but it was far too clear for comfort.\n\n\"Oh, Sal, look at what he's done to you.\"\n\nSal recognized the voice and felt a sudden pain in his chest, his heartbeat quickening. He pushed himself up, feeling about until he found the side of the bed and rolled into a sitting position.\n\n\"Mrs. Little?\" Sal stammered.\n\nA woman sat on the chair opposite him, half-hidden in the shadows, her figure only a silhouette in the dark. But he would have recognized those shoes anywhere, black flats with pink flowers drawn on the sides, the shoes they had buried her in. He remembered commenting to Connor about them, that it was a shame to throw away good shoes like that. He could still feel Connor's eyes boring into him disapprovingly.\n\n\"How are you, Sal?\"\n\nSal closed his eyes and opened them again.\n\nThis isn't right.\n\nConvinced that he was hallucinating, Sal tried to stand up, his legs weak and shaking, holding the edge of the bed to keep his balance. He felt a burst of blood rush out of his leg where the bone was still extruded, and for some strange reason, the pain had disappeared completely.\n\nHe looked at the woman and shuddered. It was definitely Mrs. Little, although her voice did seem a little raspier, as if she were talking with sand in her mouth.\n\nOr dirt. Did you ever think of that, Sal? She probably ate her way out of her grave.\n\n\"So he got to you, too, did he?\" Mrs. Little giggled. \"I thought he would. He wouldn't let you live very long with a secret like that.\"\n\nSal froze as the woman stood up and stepped out of the shadow, slowly, legs shuffling against the carpet as if she were dragging her weight forward. What was left of the woman who once ran this motel gave him a toothless smile, her skin grey and peeling, her head littered with stray strands of what was left of her hair. From her left ear hung a single diamond earring, her other earlobe ripped where Sal had stolen the second one just before tossing the first shovels of dirt on her coffin.\n\nAll that didn't bother him as much as her eyes. Her pale blue eyes, ice cold, gazing at him with a look that promised pain and suffering for all eternity. Sal could see past the icy stare to the pits of hell through those eyes, and he suddenly felt the temperature in the room drop dangerously.\n\n\"Confess!\" Mrs. Little smiled. \"Confess, Sal!\"\n\nSal shook his head in a daze, praying for the hallucinations to disappear. He moved slowly to one side as Mrs. Little approached him, the shuffling of her feet loud in the dark room.\n\n\"Confess!\"\n\nSal felt himself swoon and he quickly grabbed onto the commode to stop his fall. He looked towards the door, now too far away and blocked by the monster that was once his boss. Mrs. Little laughed, and Sal felt the sound cut through his mind like razors.\n\n\"Why did you do it, Sal?\" Mrs. Little asked. \"Did you think he'd take you in? Did you think my husband would be so grateful for your loyalty, that he would let you run things around here?\"\n\nMrs. Little shuffled forward, forcing Sal to limp further away. He was losing a lot of blood despite the make-shift tourniquet around his thigh. The fact that there was no pain worried him, and he wondered if maybe he was going into shock.\n\nSal looked at his bloody leg, then back up, and cried out when Mrs. Little grabbed him by the back of his neck and propelled him into the bathroom. Sal felt light, as if he were being carried off his feet, until he was standing directly in front of the mirror above the sink, staring at his reflection and the dead face of Mrs. Little behind him.\n\n\"Look at yourself, Sal,\" she hissed in his ear. \"Look at what's become of you.\"\n\nSal stared into his haggard face, his eyes sunken, his cheekbones prominent against his sickly visage. He was sweating profusely, and he tasted blood as it trickled out of his mouth and down his chin.\n\n\"Confess,\" Mrs. Little whispered. \"Confess, and it will all be over.\"\n\nSal whimpered, shaking his head slowly, the nape of his neck like ice under her grip. \"It's not my fault,\" he coughed, his voice hoarse and his tongue heavy.\n\nMrs. Little smiled, a terrifying curl of the lips that left little to the imagination of what her intentions were. \"That's where you're wrong, Sal,\" she said. \"That's where you're terribly wrong.\"\n\nSal's head was thrust forward, and he screamed as his face slammed into the mirror again and again.\n\n#  Chapter 14\n\nPatrick raced down the stairs at the sound of Sal's screaming, Tara close behind him. He took the steps by twos, heart pounding, the man's screams a terrifying sound in the otherwise quiet motel. He had no idea what to expect, but with Tara following him and keeping up, he could assume the worst.\n\nPatrick burst into Sal's room, throwing his weight against the door when it wouldn't open at first, and tried the lights. Whatever was giving the Freys their power was obviously not at work here, but Patrick didn't need light to see what was happening.\n\nSal was standing in front of the bathroom mirror, his hands clenching the sink tight, his injured leg bent awkwardly as blood poured out in dark streaks that formed a large puddle beneath him. Sal was slamming his face against the broken mirror, the shards that were still in place tearing at his face as he screamed.\n\nPatrick raced towards him, but was stopped abruptly by Tara.\n\n\"No!\" she yelled over the other man's screams.\n\nPatrick pulled away from her, rushing towards Sal just as the other man stopped moving and fell in a heap to the floor. Patrick fell down next to him, grimacing at the sheer amount of blood around him, trying to decide what to do first.\n\n\"Sal!\" Patrick yelled. \"Jesus, man, what were you thinking?\"\n\nSal's eyes stared out into nothing, parts of his cheek and forehead hanging loose, the bones beneath clearly visible. Patrick felt for a pulse, and when he found none, pushed himself away from the dead body and against the bathroom wall. His body shook uncontrollably, and try as he could, he couldn't take his eyes off Sal.\n\nTara walked into the bathroom and bent down to one knee next to the body, mimicking Patrick as she made sure Sal was dead.\n\n\"What was that?\" Patrick stammered. \"What would drive a man to do that?\"\n\nTara looked at him, the expression on her face one of exhaustion and sadness. \"It will only get worse from here on out,\" she said. \"We need to find the others.\"\n\n***\n\nJason Collick sat in the dark, knees drawn up to his chest, surrounded by the dead.\n\nThey were never going to let him go. He knew that now. They were everywhere, taunting him, screaming at him, tearing at him until he could no longer differentiate what was real and what wasn't. Their voices echoed in his head, even when they weren't speaking to him, and there was nothing he could do about it.\n\nHe couldn't kill them, and he couldn't run away from them. That much was obvious. He had seen Chuck fall. He had shot the man and had seen him crumble to the pavement. Yet, his ex-partner now stood across the empty room, staring at Jason angrily, waiting. Jason had no idea what the man was waiting for, but it didn't matter. There was nothing he could do to stop what was coming.\n\n\"Confess,\" Chuck whispered from across the room.\n\nJason looked up at him, and quickly took in the gazes of the rest of the dead around him. They had grown silent, their pale faces emotionless now as they stared at him, patiently waiting for his response. Chuck coughed violently, bent over and vomited a stream of blood and water.\n\nJason watched him wipe his mouth and stand up straight again, smiling. \"Confess, Jason,\" the man managed to sputter.\n\nJason sniffed and dropped his eyes to the gun in his hands. He raised it lazily and fired, watching the drywall behind Chuck burst into pieces of plaster.\n\nYou can't kill him.\n\nJason's arm dropped and his head rolled back. He was tired, exhausted to the point that he couldn't make sense of anything that was happening. There was barely any light seeping through the bare window. The room he sat in, one of the many waiting to be refurbished for business, was desolate, and Jason contemplated lying down and trying to sleep.\n\n\"There will be no rest for the wicked,\" a voice rang in his ears, and Jason gazed lazily at a little girl sitting to one side on the frame of a broken chair, her dark eyes fixated on him as she swung her legs back and forth.\n\n\"I'm not wicked,\" Jason protested, his voice barely audible, his tongue rolling.\n\nChuck moved away from the wall and trudged forward, Jason watching him come. He would not fight anymore. He was too tired. He didn't care what Chuck or the other dead would do to him; he just wanted it to be over.\n\nChuck hunched down in front of him and grabbed his jaw, his fingers cold. \"Confess, Jason,\" he said. \"Confess and it will end now.\"\n\nJason gazed into the dead man's eyes and remembered the hatred he had always felt towards him. He remembered how Chuck had always stolen the limelight, had become the center of attention and the figure everyone sought out for leadership. The man had always stood in Jason's way, shutting down all his ideas, making him look like a fool in front of his employees. Chuck had wanted it all, had wanted to keep pushing Jason to one side until he was obsolete, just a founder's name people would quickly forget.\n\nJason hated him. He leaned forward, forcefully pushing against Chuck's grip, and looked the dead man in the eye. \"I killed you,\" Jason spat.\n\nChuck smiled and let go of Jason.\n\n\"I wanted you dead the minute you'd grown too big for the both of us,\" Jason continued. \"I waited for the right moment and I pulled the trigger. I dropped your body in the river. I lied to the faces of every living soul, pinned the murder on your drunk brother, and laughed through it all. I did it. Is that what you want to hear? I did it!\"\n\nChuck stood up and nodded, smiling as he stepped back and raised his arms to the dead sitting around them.\n\n\"I faked numbers, ruined lives, fired the dead weight to increase my profits, and tore apart the lives of those who dared to sue!\" Jason yelled out to the rest of the room. \"I'm responsible for your bankruptcy, for your suicides, for your spiral into alcoholism and drugs. I ruined the future of your children, broke apart your marriages, and screwed you all.\"\n\nThe dead all stood up, one by one, their faces suddenly relaxed as they watched Jason confess.\n\n\"And you want to know something?\" Jason hissed. \"I'd do it all again!\"\n\nChuck began to laugh. Jason watched as the soft chuckle slowly grew into a manic shriek that rang through the room and across the motel. Suddenly, everything seemed much clearer, the curtain in front of his eyes lifting as the world around him made perfect sense. Jason knew what was expected of him, and his grip tightened around his gun.\n\nChuck continued to laugh, and Jason laughed along with him.\n\n***\n\nPatrick was in Owen's apartment with the other guests when the gunshot startled them all.\n\n\"We have to find him,\" Harold said, voicing what everyone else was thinking. \"There's no telling what he will do.\"\n\nPatrick was about to reply when Connor interrupted him.\n\n\"I'm sorry, but what do you mean you couldn't leave?\"\n\nThe burly man sat on the couch furthest away from the others, Harold having had suggested to give him enough space to come to. They had filled him in on everything that had happened, and Connor was not in the least bit happy. The bar was his home, and seeing it black with soot and crumbling from the fire angered him tremendously.\n\nNow he was listening to Patrick tell them that Sal was dead, and a part of him wanted to rush across the motel, find Jason Collick, and smash his head in with a flat iron.\n\n\"That doesn't matter right now,\" Patrick said, \"and it's going to take a while to explain.\" He ventured a glance at Tara standing near one wall, watching them closely. He wondered if leaving Jimmy alone in the room was a good idea.\n\n\"What matters is stopping Jason before anything else happens,\" Patrick said. \"I think he's behind what's going on here.\"\n\n\"What is going on here?\" Diana asked.\n\n\"I'm not exactly sure,\" Patrick said.\n\n\"Then why do you think that maniac out there is the reason for anything?\" the actress asked. \"I mean, it's terrible what happened to Sal, but from what you said, it sounds more like the man was a complete psycho.\"\n\n\"Hey, watch it,\" Owen spat. \"That man was my friend.\"\n\nConnor scoffed and looked away when Owen gazed at him.\n\n\"Whatever,\" Diana said. \"Listen, I don't know what you guys are getting at, but I'm going to stay here and wait until the sun comes up, then I'm walking the hell out of this place.\"\n\n\"The sun isn't coming up any time soon,\" Tara said.\n\nDiana turned to her angrily. \"Listen, miss dark-and-brooding, I don't know you, and I really don't care, but you're kind of ruining the little bit of positive energy I still have, okay?\"\n\n\"Shut up, Diana,\" Gina mumbled.\n\nPatrick looked at the woman sitting in front of the window, staring out at into the rainy night. She had been quiet ever since he and Tara had walked in and told them about Sal.\n\n\"What did you say to me?\" Diana hissed.\n\n\"You heard me,\" Gina replied, unmoving.\n\nDiana got up quickly. \"I have half the mind to–\"\n\nKurt immediately grabbed her and sat her back down, his hands on her shoulders pinning her in her seat. Diana tried to shake herself free, but Kurt's hold was strong, and she looked up at him angrily.\n\n\"Let go of me,\" she threatened.\n\n\"We have bigger things to worry about, missy,\" he said, looking at her calmly. \"Why don't you postpone your squabbles for later?\"\n\nDiana huffed and tried to break free again, with less enthusiasm this time, before finally sitting still.\n\nKurt returned his attention to Patrick. \"I have a shotgun in the car,\" he said matter-of-factly. \"There's another gun in the glove compartment that you can use.\"\n\n\"I've never used a gun before,\" Patrick admitted, pushing past his initial desire to shoot down Kurt's obvious suggestion and look for a more amiable solution. He couldn't deny that Jason was dangerous, and they already had a dead body to prove it. Kurt was obviously not going to wait for someone else to join Cameron and Sal.\n\n\"Are the two of you out of your minds?\" Owen cut in. \"This isn't the wild west. You can't go around shooting up the place!\"\n\n\"I have a rifle in my room,\" Connor said, standing up. He ignored Owen's gaze. \"I'll get it and meet you guys by the pool.\"\n\n\"Are you sure this is a good idea?\" Harold asked. \"Surely there must be another way.\"\n\nPatrick placed a hand on the priest's shoulder and squeezed. \"We're just going to bring him in,\" Patrick said. \"We're not going to kill him.\"\n\n\"Speak for yourself,\" Connor said.\n\n\"Are you sure you're rested enough for this?\" Patrick asked, ignoring the man's previous comment and hoping he wouldn't have to subdue two gun-toting maniacs.\n\nConnor waved at him. \"Don't worry about me,\" he said, making his way to the door. \"It's going to take more than a blow to the head to slow me down. Besides, the other wing of the motel is bigger. You're going to need the extra hands.\"\n\nConnor stepped out into the rain and closed the door behind him.\n\nHarold gave Patrick a worried look. \"I don't see this ending very well,\" he said.\n\nPatrick couldn't reply.\n\n#  Chapter 15\n\nJimmy watched the rain from under the protection of the second floor landing. The storm had picked up tremendously, the winds swirling the rain about, the temperature low and chilling. It worried Jimmy greatly, and despite his promise to stay put, he knew that his mother alone would not be able to handle the soul collector if they came face to face with it.\n\nNot if. When.\n\nJimmy knew it to be true. He could sense it in ever part of his body; Jason Collick had confessed, and was now nothing more than a puppet for the real monster. He could see Patrick and Kurt standing near the pool with their guns, and could hear Connor's footsteps below as the big man made his way back to them. They believed they were ready, although Jimmy knew that each one of them was as vulnerable as Jason had been.\n\nThe soul collector would fight back. It had its first victim. There would be no more games; the monster was going to go for the kill. Jimmy only hoped that Patrick and the others would be able to bring it down before it turned everyone in the motel on each other.\n\nJimmy looked past the men and to the trees behind the pool. He caught sight of his mother rushing between the foliage, slipping past Patrick and the others on her way towards the other side of the motel. Jimmy's heart dropped, knowing what she intended to do. He contemplated calling out to Patrick, but knew that would only make things worse. They needed to focus on the task at hand, not rushing in after his mother.\n\nJimmy made up his mind quickly, abandoning the shelter of the second floor landing and racing downstairs and into the rain. In the dark, he rushed across the motel to the second wing.\n\n***\n\n\"They're coming for you.\"\n\nJason no longer saw the dead, alone in the dark room with his gun pressed to his forehead. His eyes were closed, Chuck's voice only whispered echoes in his head. He could see them, though. He could see the three men standing outside, talking amongst each, stealing glance at the second wing as they made their plans.\n\nThey would not find him easily, and when they did, he would be ready. He would have the upper hand. Jason opened his eyes, ejected his gun's magazine and counted four bullets. He smiled to himself.\n\nFour would be enough.\n\n***\n\n\"So we're good here?\"\n\nConnor checked his rifle before slapping it and nodding, the scowl on his face deep. Patrick knew the man was angry, and could only imagine what he would do to Jason Collick once they found him. There was a silent agreement between them all that they would try to unarm Jason and bring him in, but Patrick doubted Connor would wait very long before firing a round or two into the maniac.\n\n\"You okay?\" he asked Connor.\n\n\"The second wing has an extra twenty rooms,\" Connor explained, ignoring the question as rain seeped into his eyes. \"Basically, what you see from here are the rooms looking out at the parking lot. There's a second set behind them, and a corridor in between both rows.\"\n\n\"But we can rule out those ten,\" Kurt said, pointing with his gun.\n\nConnor shook his head. \"The rooms on the outside have a second door to the corridor,\" he said. \"We might not have seen him go into any of them from here, but there's no saying he didn't go in from the back.\"\n\n\"Why would you have two doors into one room?\" Kurt asked. \"Whose idea was that?\"\n\n\"Mrs. Little,\" Connor said. \"Before she died, she really wanted to spice this place up. Spent a fortune on that second wing, making the rooms bigger and all. The idea was turning the second landing into a balcony.\" Connor looked back over his shoulder at Owen's apartment. \"Her husband never followed through.\"\n\n\"So what's the plan?\" Kurt looked to Patrick.\n\nPatrick had no idea. He had never done anything like this before, his only experience stemming from movies he watched and strategy games on his son's computer. This was way over his head, and he would have traded in his leadership of the situation to anyone else if he could. The two men looked at him questioningly, and he could see in their eyes that they trusted him fully, relying on him to guide them through what they had to do.\n\nPatrick felt the burden heavy on his shoulders.\n\n\"Go in from the side,\" Patrick finally suggested. \"Do the back rooms have a landing as well?\"\n\nConnor shook his head. \"Just the corridor and that one there.\"\n\n\"How good are you with that thing?\" Patrick gestured to the rifle.\n\n\"Good enough.\"\n\n\"Ok, so you keep your eyes on the landing outside while Kurt and I take the corridor,\" Patrick said. \"That way, if he tries to get out from there, you'll spot him.\"\n\n\"And if he runs?\" Kurt asked.\n\n\"There's nowhere to run to,\" Connor replied, the look in his eyes portraying exactly what he intended to do if Jason did decide to flee.\n\nPatrick didn't like the look at all.\n\n\"Pretty straightforward,\" Kurt muttered, hunching his shoulders. \"After you, boss.\"\n\nPatrick nodded and led the way.\n\n***\n\nGina heard singing.\n\nIt was low, barely audible in the frantic chatter going on around her, but Gina heard it clearly. She recognized the song, too. It was an old tune her father used to sing to her when she was a child, the same one he had sung in the shower while she lay curled up naked in her bed, guilty over what she had just done.\n\nThe singing made her shudder.\n\nGina looked around at the others. Harold was arguing with Diana about something, and Owen had excused himself minutes before and disappeared into his bedroom. There was no sign that anyone heard the singing besides her, and she turned her gaze back to the window.\n\nSomeone was outside, walking in the rain to a small structure Owen had told them was where the generators were stored. Gina could tell it was a woman, and only then noticed that Tara was not in the room either.\n\nWhat is she doing? She shouldn't be outside.\n\nGina stood up quickly, grabbed her coat, and exited the room unnoticed, rushing after Tara.\n\n***\n\nThey made their way up the flight of stairs slowly, guns lowered, eyes searching for any movement inside the rooms. The windows were bare, one of the many things Patrick would eventually be grateful for, and a few of the doors hung limply on their hinges. He glanced at Connor who nodded to him and immediately broke away from the group.\n\nKurt and Patrick moved to the left, checking the first room facing the pool quickly before cautiously making their way into the corridor.\n\n\"Looks like a bad dream,\" Kurt said, and Patrick couldn't agree more.\n\nThe corridor was dark, extending narrowly down the entire length of the wing. Patrick immediately felt claustrophobic, unwilling to step any further, his eyes suddenly watering as he imagined the walls shutting closed on him once he was between them.\n\nWire hung loose from the ceiling, the floors littered with broken plaster and buckets of paint. Something moved under a few cardboard boxes a few yards in front of them, and Patrick felt dread race through him as he imagined black little spiders crawling out. A rat bolted from its hiding place and raced into one of the open doors, and Patrick let out a long sigh of relief.\n\nThey moved forward, Kurt a few feet ahead, peeking into the rooms to his left as Patrick searched the ones on the right. He could see Connor through the windows, the man briefly giving him a wave before continuing forward, and Patrick felt his tense muscles ease. Between the three of them, he didn't see how Jason would be able to slip by unnoticed.\n\n***\n\n\"Confess!\"\n\nOwen Little sat up in a start.\n\nHe had excused himself from the rest of the group, hoping to get a little shut eye before any more unwanted excitement, and had been halfway into a dreamless slumber when the voice pulled him back. He was alone, the room dark except for the small light from his cellphone. He could hear muffled shouting coming from behind the closed door, the angry sounds of Harold Bell against Diana's annoying whining.\n\n\"You think too much,\" a voice whispered from the shadows. \"That was always your problem.\"\n\nA figure stepped out from the darkness, skin loose, eyes hollow and only half a head of hair. Owen stared at his dead wife in horror, having had convinced himself that he had only imagined her in the truck before. Now she stood tall in front of him, smiling from across the room, her eyes blazing. Blood dripped onto the carpet from her hands, and he could make out strands of grey hair clutched in her fists; hair that looked vaguely like Sal's.\n\n\"Oh yes, Sal and I had a nice conversation,\" his wife said, coughing a raspy chuckle. \"He adored you, worshipped you even, and now look what happened to him.\"\n\nOwen scrambled from the bed, rolling onto the floor and rushing for the door. His wife grabbed him by the arm, ridiculously faster than he was and much stronger, pulling him back and hurtling him against the bed.\n\n\"In a way,\" she hissed, \"his death is on your hands. Poor man couldn't take the pressure.\"\n\n\"Stay away from me!\" Owen shouted, pushing away from his wife, raising his voice loud enough for the others outside to hear him. He called out to them, but that only made his wife laugh, and she lunged forward.\n\nOwen felt her cold hands wrap around his neck just as she slammed his head against the wall, her thumbs suddenly pressing down on his windpipe as he tried to scream out for help. He gazed into her eyes in horror, her smile a toothless void of rotten flesh, the stench coming from her unbearable. Owen punched out at her, trying to breathe against her vice-like grip, but she was too strong.\n\nOwen's vision began to blur, and he slowly fell into a perpetual darkness with only the sound of his dead wife's laughter ringing in his ears.\n\n***\n\nThe singing was louder.\n\nGina could hear it clearly as she made her way into the generator room, slowly and carefully, pushing the door all the way open and wincing as its hinges creaked. A single bulb hung from the ceiling, swaying slightly against the wind that blew in through the door, casting shadows of different shapes and sizes in its wake. Gina frowned as she gazed upwards, unable to comprehend how there was power here when the rest of the motel was in complete darkness.\n\nWhy are you so surprised? Nobody's phone works except for yours, right?\n\nAt least it did before she had kicked it into the pool. Gina shook her head and continued forward. She made her way between two large shelving units that created a makeshift corridor, boxes framing her in and making it impossible to see who was singing on the other side of the barricade.\n\nGina caught herself mouthing the words along with the tune, an instinct of hers since she was a little girl. She had loved that song, and had always looked forward to the nights her father would come home early and sing it to her. Now the tune made her skin crawl and her stomach turn, its sentimental memory ruined by one dreadful mistake.\n\nThere was no sign of Tara anywhere, and Gina slowly rounded the line of shelves and stepped into the small vestibule where three large generators sat idly side by side. Gina's eyes quickly found the source of the singing, a woman standing in front of a table to one side with her back to her. Gina instantly recognized her, and although she wanted to turn and run for the door, escape back into the rain and cold night, she found herself inexplicably frozen in place.\n\nHer mother turned around and winked at her. \"There you are,\" she said, her voice hard and angry despite the smile on her face. \"I knew you'd find me.\"\n\nGina shuddered as she met her mother's gaze, her mind racing as it tried to make sense of what she was seeing. Her mother raised a finger and shook it slowly, side to side, pouting as she eyed her daughter.\n\n\"Now, it's about time we had that little talk,\" the older woman said, her face cracking and shifting. \"Isn't that right, dear?\"\n\nGina finally found her voice and screamed.\n\n***\n\nPatrick froze, his hand reaching out and grabbing Kurt instinctively.\n\nThe sound of screaming pierced through the night, loud despite the thunderous noise of the storm. His hand clenched tight on his gun, and he looked through the room to his right at Connor.\n\n\"That can't be good,\" Kurt said.\n\nPatrick cursed out loud. A part of him was sure that Jason was still in the second wing, that there was some other explanation for the screaming they were hearing. Then again, he could have been wrong, and maybe the lunatic had found some way to circle around them and get to the others. Patrick glanced back down the length of the corridor.\n\nNo. He's here. I can feel it.\n\nPatrick glanced at the other two men staring at him, waiting for him to tell them what to do. Patrick could sense the urgency in their eyes, and knew he had to make a decision now. He wanted to keep moving forward, but there was no ignoring the screaming coming from across the motel.\n\nPatrick turned to Connor. \"Go,\" he said. \"We can handle things here.\"\n\nConnor nodded and disappeared, the sound of his footsteps receding as he raced back across the landing. Patrick turned to Kurt, nodded, and they continued forward.\n\nHe could only hope Connor would reach whoever was screaming in time.\n\n***\n\n\"They're clo-o-o-se.\"\n\nJason didn't need Chuck to tell him that. He could hear them coming, confident in their mission to find him, not bothering to keep quiet. He smiled at their stupidity, assuring himself that he could not be stopped, that dealing with them would be child's play even though he was outnumbered. He had an advantage over them. He had Chuck.\n\n\"Don't get too cocky,\" the voice in his head said.\n\nJason nodded in agreement, closed his eyes, and listened. He could hear them, closer now, whispering to each other. They were only two rooms away. He knew that, just as knew that the old man with the shotgun could shoot a hole right through him from a mile away.\n\n\"Take the older man out first,\" Chuck ordered. \"The writer can't shoot his own foot even if he tried.\"\n\nThey were close.\n\nJason opened his eyes and stepped out of the room he was hiding in, immediately raising his gun as he stared into the surprised faces of his pursuers.\n\nChild's play.\n\n#  Chapter 16\n\nKurt Layton barely had enough time to react. The deafening sound of the gunshot was quickly followed by a strong blow to his chest, as if someone had taken a swing at him with a giant hammer and had found his mark perfectly. His shoulder screamed as pain raced down his arm and back, the force throwing him off his feet as he spun and fell to the ground.\n\nHe could feel blood gushing out from the wound, his heart pounding in his chest as he cried out in pain. The part of him that wasn't trying to understand what had just happened was silently rejoicing to the fact that the bullet hadn't hit him somewhere more fatal. He heard another gunshot, this one closer, and he briefly looked up to see Patrick firing away.\n\nSo much for trying to catch him alive.\n\nKurt's lids grew heavy, and the last thing on his mind before he blacked out was how much he had hoped to be the one to kill the crazy bastard.\n\n***\n\nPatrick was screaming in fury.\n\nHis first shot missed Jason completely, only startling the man and forcing him to return fire blindly as he raced away. Patrick felt something graze his cheek and swish loudly past his ear, a hot burning sensation spreading quickly across the side of his face. He immediately gave chase, firing another two shots at the man in front of him, wincing at the recoil that numbed his arm.\n\nJason dashed down the corridor, racing past the first flight of steps and turning swiftly out towards the landing. Patrick tried to keep up, ignoring all sense of caution as he rounded the corner after the man, oblivious to the fact that he was an easy target. Yet he knew that Jason would not stop.\n\nThe man was scared. Patrick could feel it, the fear heavy in the air around him as he gave chase. He could sense the man's heartbeats, the gasping breaths, the desire to kill and destroy and conquer. It was like he was in Jason's head, the maniac's thoughts mixed with his own in a psychotic mesh.\n\nJason jumped over the stair banister, almost falling in his attempt to scale it, and hurried down to the ground floor. Patrick followed close behind, already giving up on trying to fire his gun. He was a lousy shot, and he didn't need to waste any more bullets to prove it.\n\nThe rain hit him like an iron fist as he dashed out from the cover of canopy and after Jason. He could barely make out the man's figure through the curtains of water falling from the sky, but he didn't intend to let up. He would follow Jason Collick to the gates of hell if it were the only way to stop him.\n\nThe pool gates materialized in front of him, and he watched as Jason slammed against the closed door and stumbled through, pushing to his feet and racing forward. Patrick felt his breaths come in short gasps, the cold air like knives against his throat, but he kept going.\n\nA gunshot echoed through the night, and then another, but Patrick ignored both and kept his eyes on Jason. The man reached the far end of the pool and jumped onto the fence, attempting to climb over it. Patrick was on him in seconds, slamming his body against him, both men bouncing off the fence and falling back onto the ground.\n\nPatrick scrambled onto his hands and knees, frantically looking for the gun he dropped, when a foot connected with his face and sent him rolling. He felt Jason's weight on top of him almost immediately, hands around his neck and squeezing hard. Patrick fought back blindly, rain falling into his eyes and blurring his vision, Jason's weight pinning him down as he slowly suffocated him.\n\nPatrick felt the world around him spin out of focus, the blood in his head pounding as he tried to break free of his attacker's grip. Mustering what little strength he still had, he rolled to the left, and suddenly felt a shock race through him as he was engulfed in the pool's cold waters.\n\nHe was in the void again. The darkness, the emptiness, the nothingness. He was suspended in its murkiness, moving in slow motion, kicking out forcefully only to find that he was stuck in his place. He didn't dare breathe, scared that if he did, he would be drawn in and become one with the void. His mind raced, the claustrophobia kicking in once more, and he immediately began to panic. He kicked out, more forcefully this time, and felt the power push him up.\n\nPatrick broke through the surface of the water and gasped for air. His arms flailed as he desperately tried to stay afloat, petrified of sinking back into the darkness he knew he would not be able to escape again. He slapped at the water, kicking out as he looked around frantically, searching for the edge of the pool where he could pull himself out.\n\nA hand grabbed him by the back of his head and pushed him down. The cold water rushed into Patrick's open mouth, forcing him to swallow just so he would drown. He reached up slowly, pushing against the water, and grabbed the hand holding his head down. He pushed it away and kicked back up, gasping as he turned to face his attacker.\n\nJason Collick had gone completely mad, his eyes wide with rage as he scratched and punched. For a moment, Patrick could have sworn he saw something crawl out of the man's mouth and fall into the water, closely followed by a second and a third. It took him only a second to realize they were little black spiders, more escaping through the man's open mouth, some falling into the water, others crawling up his face and onto his head.\n\nPatrick lashed out, a mix of fear and rage driving him as he grasped Jason by the shoulders, pushed him down and wrapped his arm around the man's neck. Patrick could feel him struggling under the water, writhing about and trying to break free. Dozens of spiders floated on the water's surface, surrounding him as more bubbled out of the drowning man's mouth.\n\nTime passed in slow motion, the storm raging around him as wind and rain increased in intensity, as if the elements themselves wanted to free Jason Collick from his imminent death. Patrick tightened his hold, throwing his weight on top of his captive, cringing at the feel of the spiders on his skin. He cried out into the night, challenging the storm and every other supernatural force that would try to stop him from ending the hell he had had to endure so far.\n\nJason's efforts to break free weakened, bit by bit, until finally he stopped completely. Patrick unhinged his arm from around the man's neck, and immediately swam towards the edge of the pool and away from the arachnids that lay afloat on the water's surface. He pulled himself out of the water and rolled onto his side, coughing and wheezing, slapping his hand against the ground as he tried to control the pain that enveloped him. From the corner of his eye, he could see Jason's dead body floating in the center of the pool, face down and unmoving.\n\nPatrick rolled onto his back, gazing up at the falling rain as it splattered across his face and into his eyes. The side of his face began to pulse in sync with his heartbeats, and he felt the quick onset of cramps all over his body from the unaccustomed strain he had put his muscles through.\n\nPatrick Lahm closed his eyes and drifted away.\n\n***\n\nJimmy Frey stood silently in the shadows of the motel's second wing, leaning against the railing as he watched the events at the pool unfold. Tara walked up beside him, her face ashen and blood staining the front of her shirt.\n\nJimmy glanced at her, then turned away again. \"You're hurt.\"\n\nTara placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. \"It's not mine. The old man, Kurt.\"\n\n\"Is he okay?\"\n\nTara didn't answer. Jimmy shifted his concentration back to Patrick.\n\n\"I was mistaken about him,\" Jimmy said. \"This is not how I expected it to happen.\"\n\nTara squeezed his shoulder again. \"Nothing ever is,\" she reassured him. \"I still believe you made the right choice. Only time will tell.\"\n\nJimmy nodded, but deep down, he was worried. \"It wasn't inside Jason Collick.\"\n\n\"No,\" Tara whispered. \"It wasn't. He was merely a puppet.\"\n\n\"Which makes things that much more complicated.\"\n\n\"It wants Patrick,\" Tara said. \"It won't stop until it has him. For now, we should consider ourselves lucky.\"\n\nJimmy pushed away from the railing and followed his mother across the landing to the staircase. They made their way down and crossed through the rain towards the front office.\n\n\"How long do I have to stay here?\" Jimmy asked.\n\nHis mother turned to him and smiled. \"If you're right about him, then not for very long,\" she said.\n\n\"You're not coming?\"\n\nTara looked towards the far end of the motel where Patrick lay still by the pool. Another gunshot echoed in the darkness.\n\n\"No,\" she finally said. She bent down to one knee and held her son's face in her hands. \"Just remember what's real and what isn't, and soon enough, so will he.\"\n\nJimmy felt tears sting his eyes and he quickly brushed them away. He tried his best to smile and hugged his mother tight.\n\n***\n\n\"Patrick, get up!\"\n\nPatrick felt a strong hand shake him, and he slowly opened his eyes. Connor was on one knee beside him, his rifle gripped tight and his frown deep. He was looking in the direction of Owen's apartment, his face a mix of worry and dread.\n\n\"Connor?\"\n\nConnor looked at him and quickly bent lower, sliding an arm under Patrick and lifting him up.\n\n\"Get up,\" he said frantically. \"We need to get out of here! Now!\"\n\nPatrick threw an arm around the man's neck and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet, leaning heavily against Connor's large frame.\n\n\"What's going on?\"\n\n\"Everyone's gone completely insane, that's what,\" Connor said, already moving and dragging Patrick along with him. \"We need to leave before things get worse.\"\n\nPatrick felt weak, his feet sliding across the ground as Connor half-carried him forward.\n\n\"Jason's dead,\" Patrick coughed.\n\n\"I can see that,\" Connor replied, pushing through the pool gates and rushing across the motel parking lot. \"So are Owen and Gina, and if we stay any longer, we might just join them.\"\n\nPatrick looked up at the man in horror, the news almost shocking him to a stop if not for Connor's strength pulling them both along.\n\n\"What happened?\"\n\nConnor looked over his shoulder, then back as he guided them through the rain. \"I have no idea. Owen hung himself in his room, and I shot Gina when she came at me with a knife. I almost shot Harold, too, if Diana hadn't jumped him first. They've all gone frickin' insane!\"\n\nConnor guided them to the passenger's side of the truck and stopped, resting the rifle by the door as he opened it for Patrick. \"We can't stay here,\" he said.\n\nPatrick grabbed him by the collar to stop him. \"We can't leave,\" he said. \"You know that. You saw what happened when I tried.\"\n\n\"I'm willing to take the risk,\" Connor said, grabbing Patrick by the waist and heaving him into the passenger seat. \"I'm all out of ammunition, and from what I've seen, we're going to need some if we want to survive the night.\"\n\nPatrick frowned in confusion, unable to come to terms with what he was hearing. It didn't make any sense. He killed Jason. It was supposed to be over. They were supposed to be safe. At least that was what Jimmy had made him believe. He suddenly remembered the boy and his mother, and waited as Connor climbed into the driver's seat to ask him about them.\n\n\"I have no clue,\" Connor said, \"and I'm not waiting around to see what happened to them.\"\n\nA shrill scream cut through the sound of the storm, and both men stared out in horror as they watched a woman race through the rain, chased by a man Patrick knew could only be Harold Bell.\n\n\"Is that Diana?\" Connor asked.\n\nPatrick had no idea, frozen in his seat as he watched Harold catch up to the woman and grab her by the hair, pulling her down with him as he fell to the ground. The priest was on the woman in an instant, his arms rising and falling as Patrick watched him beat at her relentlessly. The woman kicked and screamed for the briefest of moments before her body went completely still, yet Harold kept going at her.\n\n\"Go,\" Patrick whispered, his voice barely a murmur. \"Go, go, go!\"\n\nConnor gunned the engine, shifted into drive and pushed down on the gas pedal. He turned the steering wheel hard, the truck skidding on the wet asphalt until he had it speeding towards the motel's exit. Patrick looked back at Harold as the Father continued his assault on the woman, now slamming both his fists down on her in unison. Patrick felt his stomach turn.\n\n\"Holy crap!\"\n\nPatrick turned back at the sound of surprise in the other man's voice, and stared dumbfounded at Tara and Jimmy standing next to the front office, waving to get their attention.\n\n\"Stop,\" Patrick said.\n\n\"No way,\" Connor said. \"I ain't got a death wish.\"\n\n\"Stop!\" Patrick yelled, and pulled hard at the handbrake.\n\nThe truck skidded dangerously as Connor tried to maintain control, turning the wheel frantically right and left to stop the vehicle from rolling over.\n\nPatrick ignored the angry look on Connor's face and opened his door. He climbed down, lowered the back of his seat and gestured to the Freys. \"Get in!\" he called out.\n\nTara and Jimmy raced forward, and Patrick stopped Tara before she climbed in after her son. The woman raised an eyebrow at him questioningly.\n\n\"It's still out there, isn't it?\" Patrick asked. \"It's not over.\"\n\nTara looked over her shoulder at the rest of the motel, then back to Patrick. \"It is for now,\" she said, and pulled away from his grip, following her son into the backseat.\n\nPatrick glanced across the motel at Harold. The priest stood motionless over the woman he had beaten to death and stared back at him, and in the darkness beyond, Patrick could see movement. Whatever demons Harold was battling now, they were coming for him, and there was nothing Patrick could do to help him.\n\n\"What the hell are you waiting for?\" Connor called out.\n\nPatrick climbed back into the truck. He gazed out at the highway beyond the motel's borders and closed his eyes as Connor shifted into drive.\n\nWhen he opened them again, they had left the Kurtain Motel behind them and were driving north up Route 25.\n\n#  Chapter 17\n\nPatrick opened his eyes just as the first colors of dawn broke out around them. Before falling asleep, he had doubted their escape, the night still crowding around them and seemingly endless. Now, with the red and orange hues in the skies above, Patrick finally relaxed.\n\nHe looked over at Connor, the man's face in a deep frown of concentration, his grip on the wheel tight enough to turn his knuckles white. They were still heading north, well beyond the speed limit, and Patrick reached out to squeeze Connor's shoulder reassuringly.\n\n\"Not yet,\" Connor grumbled, glancing quickly at Patrick before his eyes returned to the road.\n\nPatrick chuckled, adjusting himself in his seat and looking over his shoulder at the passengers in the back. They were both asleep, Jimmy's head resting on his mother's shoulder with his hands crossed over his chest, his eyes moving behind his lids as he dreamed. Patrick sighed, turning back and taking in the rising sun, welcoming the heat and the light. He was happy that the nightmare was finally over.\n\nYou got lucky.\n\nAnd he believed it, too. He fought back the images of his struggle with Jason, and tried his best not to admit that the cold feeling racing down his spine was from what he had seen crawling out behind Harold. He shook his head, trying to rid himself of it all. He hadn't been able to see the priest's eyes in the darkness, but he knew that if he had, only madness would have gazed back at him.\n\nPatrick felt a pang of guilt for leaving the man behind. He didn't want to think of Harold as anyone other than the man who had picked him up and offered to help him. He wouldn't have wanted to meet the maniac who had attacked Diana so viciously, so relentlessly. Patrick wondered what would become of the priest now that he was alone in the motel, fighting his own demons, whatever they might be.\n\n***\n\nConnor passed two gas stations along their way and voted against stopping at the first town they drove through. He was pushing the truck to the limit, putting as much distance between them and the motel as he possibly could. When the small yellow light underneath the speedometer started to blink, he grudgingly slowed down and ducked into the nearest Mobil.\n\nJimmy and Tara had woken up a few minutes before, and Patrick noted the look on Jimmy's face at the sight of other people other than the ones they had been hauled up with at the motel. There was hint of excitement there, and a great level of relief. For the first time, Jimmy actually looked like any other normal thirteen-year-old.\n\n\"How about you handle the gas while I get us some snacks?\" Connor said, already climbing out of the truck.\n\nPatrick nodded as he heard the back door open and close.\n\n\"I'll come with you,\" Tara said, making her way around the front of the truck.\n\nConnor raised an eyebrow and shrugged, giving Patrick a confused look. It was the first time either of them had seen her act in the least bit normal.\n\n\"Sure,\" Connor replied.\n\nPatrick watched as the two made their way to the store, Connor keeping a constant distance between him and Tara and glancing at her every few steps of the way.\n\n\"Why?\" Patrick asked, watching his two companions disappear behind the glass doors. When he didn't get an answer, he looked back at Jimmy. \"Why did we get out?\"\n\nJimmy stared back at him for a few seconds, and he could almost hear the boy's mind searching for the right answer.\n\n\"You don't have to sugar coat it for me,\" Patrick said. \"I know the rules don't apply to you and your mother, but you had me believing you knew what you were doing.\"\n\n\"We do,\" Jimmy replied.\n\n\"Then what the hell happened?\"\n\nJimmy looked out his window at the passing traffic, scarce as it was, and shrugged. \"Sometimes events take a turn towards the unexpected.\"\n\n\"You messed up,\" Patrick said. \"That's basically what you're saying, right?\"\n\nJimmy looked at him, a dark expression on his face. \"We're not always lucky,\" he said.\n\nPatrick wanted to reply, to tell the boy that luck had nothing to do with any of it. Nobody at the Kurtain Motel had deserved to die, and if he and his mother had been more forthcoming, maybe things would have ended differently. Patrick turned back and shook his head in disbelief. He hated to think what would have happened if Connor hadn't found him and carried him out.\n\nSee, now that is lucky.\n\nPatrick patted for his wallet, took it out and checked to make sure he still had his credit card. He opened his door, gave Jimmy a quick glance, then stepped out to refuel the truck.\n\n***\n\n\"Are you sure about this?\"\n\nConnor nodded as he drained the last of his water and tossed the empty bottle into the garbage can beside him. Jimmy and Tara sat idly in the backseat, watching the two men talk.\n\n\"I need to get home, anyway,\" Connor said, \"and that means heading west.\"\n\nPatrick nodded and stuck out his hand. The big man curled it in his own and shook hard. \"Thanks for everything,\" Patrick said.\n\n\"Don't thank me, yet,\" Connor said, giving him a weak smile. \"Just do me a favor and keep driving. Get the hell out of Connecticut. Hell, if you can make it to Canada, go for it. Just keep going and don't ever look back.\"\n\nPatrick nodded, fumbling with the keys Connor had given him and glancing back at his passengers. \"I think between the three of us, we can figure something out.\"\n\nConnor nodded, then looked at Patrick seriously. \"Listen, I have no idea what happened back there, but something tells me that it's not going to let up. Try to lay low for a while.\"\n\n\"The life of a fugitive,\" Patrick tried to smile.\n\n\"The life of a survivor,\" Connor replied. \"And thanks for the cash. I'll pay you back, somehow.\"\n\n\"Forget about it,\" Patrick said. \"I just hope it gets you where you need to go.\"\n\nConnor smiled. \"Take care of yourself, brother.\"\n\nHe leaned in, gave Patrick a quick hug, and then walked in the opposite direction back to the store. Patrick bounced the keys in his hands as he watched Connor leave, then turned and climbed back into the truck. He could feel Jimmy and Tara's eyes on him, watching as he turned the ignition and shifted into drive. He looked at them through the rear-view mirror, suddenly feeling the weight of his responsibility. He smiled at them.\n\n\"Back to the road, guys?\"\n\nThey didn't reply.\n\nPatrick shrugged, turned on the radio and pulled out of the gas station. He wondered what the weather in Canada would be like this time of year.\n\n* * *\n\nPatrick Lahm is back in another adventure: Refuge!\n\n#  FREE Bonus Novel!\n\nThank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed the book. If you did, please take a minute to share your review. I read each and every review and they inspire me to create more horrific worlds!\n\nDon't forget your FREE bonus novel by Ron Ripley! Sign up for the mailing list below to download Sherman's Library Trilogy in 3 formats, get FREE short stories, and receive future discounts: www.ScareStreet.com/AINasser\n\nFREE books (30 - 60 pages):\n\nRon Ripley (Ghost Stories)\n\n1. Ghost Stories (Short Story)\n\nA.I. Nasser (Supernatural Suspense)\n\n1. Polly's Haven (Short Story)\n\n2. This is Gonna Hurt (Short Story)\n\nMulti-Author Scare Street Collaboration\n\n1. Horror Stories: A Short Story Collection\n\nAnd experience the complete novels (150 - 210 pages):\n\nRon Ripley (Ghost Stories)\n\n1. Sherman's Library Trilogy (FREE via mailing list signup)\n\n2. The Boylan House Trilogy\n\n3. The Blood Contract Trilogy\n\n4. The Enfield Horror Trilogy\n\nMoving In Series\n\n1. Moving In (Book 1)\n\n2. The Dunewalkers (Book 2)\n\n3. Middlebury Sanitarium (Book 3)\n\n4. The First Church (Book 4)\n\n5. The Paupers' Crypt (Book 5)\n\n6. The Academy (Book 6)\n\nBerkley Street Series\n\n1. Berkley Street (Book 1 - FREE)\n\n2. The Lighthouse (Book 2)\n\n3. The Town of Griswold (Book 3)\n\n4. Sanford Hospital (Book 4)\n\n5. Kurkow Prison (Book 5)\n\n6. Lake Nutaq (Book 6)\n\n7. Slater Mill (Book 7)\n\n8. Borgin Keep (Book 8)\n\n9. Amherst Burial Ground (Book 9)\n\nVictor Dark (Supernatural Suspense)\n\n1. Uninvited Guests Trilogy\n\n2. Listen To Me Speak Trilogy\n\nA.I. Nasser (Supernatural Suspense)\n\nSlaughter Series\n\n1. Children To The Slaughter (Book 1)\n\n2. Shadow's Embrace (Book 2)\n\n3. Copper's Keeper (Book 3)\n\nThe Sin Series\n\n1. Kurtain Motel (Book 1)\n\n2. Refuge (Book 2)\n\n3. Purgatory (Book 3)\n\nDavid Longhorn (Supernatural Suspense)\n\nThe Sentinels Series\n\n1. Sentinels (Book 1)\n\n2. The Haunter (Book 2)\n\n3. The Smog (Book 3)\n\nDark Isle Series\n\n1. Dark Isle (Book 1)\n\n2. White Tower (Book 2)\n\n3. Red Chapel (Book 3)\n\nOuroboros Series\n\n1. The Sign of Ouroboros (Book 1)\n\n2. Fortress of Ghosts (Book 2)\n\n3. Day of The Serpent (Book 3)\n\nEric Whittle (Psychological Horror)\n\nCatharsis Series\n\n1. Catharsis (Book 1)\n\n2. Mania (Book 2)\n\n3. Coffer (Book 3)\n\nSara Clancy (Supernatural Suspense)\n\nDark Legacy Series\n\n1. Black Bayou (Book 1)\n\n2. Haunted Waterways (Book 2)\n\n3. Demon's Tide (Book 3)\n\nBanshee Series\n\n1. Midnight Screams (Book 1)\n\n2. Whispering Graves (Book 2)\n\n3. Shattered Dreams (Book 3)\n\nBlack Eyed Children Series\n\n1. Black Eyed Children (Book 1)\n\n2. Devil's Rise (Book 2)\n\n3. The Third Knock (Book 3)\n\nKeeping it spooky,\n\nTeam Scare Street\n\n", "meta": {"pile_set_name": "BookCorpus2"}}
{"text": "\n\nHer\n\nCatalyst\n\n## a story of hope and love\n\n## in an alternate timeline\n\n# Background\n\n## Geoff Schultz\n\nebook format edition - distributed by www.smashwords.com\n\nCopyright 2020 by Geoff Schultz\n\nAll rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form.\n\nThis is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, and events in this book are products of this writer's imagination or, in the case of referenced historical persons, are used fictitiously. Any other similarity to actual persons, names, or events is purely coincidental.\n\n* * * * *\n\nLicense Statement: This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this writer.\n\n* * * * *\n\nNote to the Reader: The principal elements of this story were previously released under a different title by Glynn Glenn who requested that this writer rewrite and release this story under his own name.\n\nWARNING:\n\nUnlike each of the 25 Parts of Her Catalyst, Background does not have descriptive scenes of intimate pleasure experienced individually or shared between consenting adults. However, Background does have brief descriptive scenes of violence unrelated to intimacy. In addition, some of the statements and ideas expressed by the characters may be offensive to some people. The intent of this writer is not to be offensive, but to allow the characters to practice their right of the freedom of speech.\n\n* * * * *\n\nAn explanatory note:\n\nThis story takes place in an alternate time line which uses a calendar of ten months with six weeks of six days each. The remaining five days are set aside for the New Year holiday at the beginning of the year which expands to six days every fourth year.\n\nMonths are identified as 'first' through 'tenth' with the New Year holiday being the 'zero' month at the beginning of each year. The days of the week are known as: first-day, second-day, third-day, fourth-day, fifth-day, and sixth-day. Dates are recorded with four digits for the year, two digits for the month, and two digits for the day. For example, 2120-06-18 refers to the year 2120, the 6th month, and the 18th day.\n\nDays are divided into 24 hours with the start of the hour being referred to by the number followed by the word 'hundred'. For example, noon is called 'twelve hundred' and an hour later is 'thirteen hundred'. Rather than use precise times, the following abbreviations are used to designate general time periods with the dates:\n\n(n) for night or about from 0001 to 0600\n\n(m) for morning or about from 0601 to 1200\n\n(a) for afternoon or about from 1201 to 1800\n\n(e) for evening or about from 1801 to 2400\n\nFor inclusive time period listings with dates, '>' is used between time period abbreviations. For example (m>a) means from the morning into or through the afternoon. For partial time period listings with dates, (a1) is the first part of the afternoon and (a2) is the second part of the afternoon.\n\nThe cartographic coordinates used in this story to identify municipalities and other locations are based on a defined circumference of the earth of 25,000 miles divided into 1,000 units of 25 miles each. Longitudinal coordinates begin near the western edge of the Western Ocean (in the reader's timeline it's called the Pacific Ocean) and reach the 500th unit near the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. While the units are 25 miles apart at the equator, their separation diminishes as the location nears the North and South poles. Latitudinal coordinates begin at the North Pole and maintain a 25 mile separation to reach the 250th unit at the equator and the 500th unit at the South Pole. After the cartographic coordinates were defined, it was discovered that the circumference of the earth around the poles is less than it is around the equator so there is some overlap of units at the North and South poles based on maintaining the 25 mile interval between units measured from the equator. For the story of why the cartographic coordinates were developed, please read The Trouble With Luck available at www.smashwords.com/profile/view/GeoffSchultz.\n\n# Background\n\n2120-06-18\n\nIn the middle of a dark and stormy night, the rain is coming down in sheets and the wind is gusting which makes it difficult for David Schmidt to keep his family vehicle in the traffic lane while he hurries his very pregnant wife to the hospital.\n\n\"Owww! Hurry, David, please!\"\n\n\"I'm going as fast as I dare, Soo-Lin. We're almost there.\"\n\nSeveral blocks away, a police officer pulls over a highly modified and over powered farm vehicle which is driving too erratically for him to ignore, even in a rain storm. Just as the police officer gets to the driver's door, the farm vehicle takes off at a high rate of acceleration and almost hits him. The police officer runs back to his patrol vehicle and takes off in hot pursuit while his rookie partner radios in the situation.\n\nWith a relieved sigh, David sees the sign for the hospital entrance ahead and turns on his right turn signal, just as another contraction convulses his wife's body. Paramedic Alice Bronson and her partner are standing under the covered entrance to the emergency room in an effort to stay out of the rain and out of the way of the emergency room while they wait for their next call. They dismiss the sound of a siren coming towards them as a normal middle-of-the-night sound. David slows down and begins to make the turn into the hospital emergency room entrance. Alice sees the family vehicle and steps back towards the door of the emergency room so the driver will have room to stop the vehicle under the covered entrance.\n\nThe driver of the farm vehicle is traveling at a high rate of speed when he enters the intersection on a red light, turns the steering wheel slightly as he notices a vehicle starting to enter the intersection from the other street, but doesn't have time to correct the direction of the vehicle before it crosses the empty oncoming traffic lanes, - \"Look out,\" Alice shouts, - slams into David's vehicle, and shoves it over the curb and between the corner of the hospital parking garage and the concrete base of a street light which immediately bends the frame of the family vehicle. David is crushed and dies instantly. The passenger door flies open and Soo-Lin is thrown towards the now open door, but her head hits the door frame and snaps her neck.\n\n\"Wreck!\" Alice yells to the second paramedic team which is standing nearby. Alice and her partner yank the crash cart out of their rescue vehicle and run to the tangled vehicles. While she guesses that any possible survivors will be on the passenger side of the family vehicle, they go around the wreck and are narrowly missed by the police officer as he brings his patrol vehicle to a sliding stop.\n\nAs soon as she runs around the back of the wrecked vehicles, Alice notices that someone is partially hanging out of the passenger door. She quickly steps closer and recognizes that the person is a very pregnant woman while her head is at an angle which is indicative of a broken neck. As her partner checks the back seat, Alice examines the woman and is unable to find a pulse, then automatically looks down the body as she checks for other injuries. When she notices a feeble movement under the woman's night shirt, Alice grabs her scissors from her belt, cuts the night shirt, and sees a baby is partially expelled from the woman.\n\nShe yells to her partner, \"Clamp!\" With a firm grip, Alice gently pulls the baby the rest of the way out of the woman, takes the clamp from her partner, applies the clamp, cuts the umbilical cord, lifts the baby, and swats the baby on the buttocks. With a cry, the baby begins to breathe. Alice yanks the sheet off of the crash cart, quickly wraps it around the baby, and runs back to the emergency room.\n\nWhile the rookie calls in the accident and requests fire department assistance, the police officer runs to the driver's side of the farm vehicle to prevent a possible escape. He climbs up on the running board, looks through the window and realizes the driver isn't going anywhere. A decorative steel pole used to support hanging plants from the parking garage has gone through the center of the driver's forehead and is sticking out the back of his head. As he steps back down, the police officer mutters something about justice being done and walks back to his patrol vehicle.\n\nSince they noticed Alice and her partner going to the passenger side of the family vehicle, the other paramedic team goes to the driver's side. A quick look makes it clear they will be unable to reach the driver because the farm vehicle has crushed the roof of the family vehicle. They follow around to the passenger side, step out of Alice's way as she runs past with a small bundle, and sees Alice's partner who is just standing there while he looks down.\n\nOne of the other paramedics asks Alice's partner, \"What'cha got?\"\n\n\"Dead woman.\"\n\n\"What about Alice?\"\n\n\"Live baby.\"\n\n\"Wow.\" They help Alice's partner take the woman out of the family vehicle and place her on the crash cart. As two of them secure the woman onto the cart, one of the paramedics crawls in the passenger side of the vehicle and checks for a pulse in the driver's hand. A moment later, he crawls back out while he shakes his head.\n\nThe emergency room staff cleans the baby and gives it a thorough examination and are surprised there appears to be nothing wrong with the baby. They speculate that the force of the accident on the seat belt across the woman's abdomen in conjunction with a contraction caused the baby to be partially expelled from her womb. The baby is examined again by Doctor Chang, the mother's obstetrician, who just arrived after she was called by David before they left for the hospital.\n\nAs she fills out the paperwork for the birth certificate, the nurse asks the obstetrician for the appropriate names. Doctor Chang is able to give the parents' names, but, at the moment, she can't remember what the parents had decided on for the baby's name so she suggests, \"Call her 'Baby Girl' for now.\"\n\n\"No, that's not her name.\"\n\nIn the stunned silence, Doctor Chang and the nurse turn towards Alice who had stayed out of the way, but hadn't let the baby out of her sight. Doctor Chang asks, \"Do you know the family?\"\n\n\"No, Doctor. I've never met them.\"\n\n\"Then how do you know what the baby's name is?\"\n\n\"I don't know what her name is, but the mother was wearing a night shirt which had these characters printed on it with an arrow pointing to her abdomen.\" She writes the characters on a piece of paper and hands it to the doctor who quickly reads it.\n\n\"Thank you. That was very observant of you.\" Doctor Chang turns back to the nurse and says, \"The baby's name is Sha-Lin. If there's a mistake, it can be corrected by the next-of-kin before the paperwork is sent in. The poor baby, a loving mother so anxious for her to be born and then this happened. I came in the front entrance, but one of the ER doctors said the mother had been killed in a vehicle wreck. Does anybody know what happened?\"\n\nAlice responds, \"Yes, Doctor. I saw it.\"\n\n\"You saw it?\" in stereo from Doctor Chang and a police officer who has just stepped into the room.\n\nAlice nods her head as she answers, \"Yes.\"\n\nThe police office suggests, \"Go ahead and give a brief version to the doctor then I can take a more detailed statement from you later. If you don't mind, I'll record it.\"\n\n\"I don't mind, Officer.\"\n\n\"Recording,\" the recorder announces.\n\n\"My partner and I were standing under the cover in front of the emergency room doors and saw the victim's family vehicle start to turn into the emergency room entrance. Then I saw a large farm vehicle cross the empty lanes and hit the driver's side of the victim's vehicle. We grabbed the crash cart and ran to the wreck. When I noticed how the farm vehicle was on top of most of the family vehicle, I guessed that if there were any survivors, they would be on the passenger side. I went around the back of the vehicles, because the front of the family vehicle was crushed against the corner of the parking garage. I was in front pulling the crash cart so I went to the front seat and left my partner to check the back seat.\n\n\"As soon as I arrived there, I saw a woman appeared to be dead with a broken neck. I didn't find a pulse while I looked along the body for other apparent injuries, but I saw that the woman was pregnant and assumed she had been on the way to the hospital to be delivered. After my eyes passed over her abdomen, I thought I saw feeble movement from under the woman's night shirt between her legs and immediately grabbed my scissors and cut the night shirt. I saw the baby was partially expelled from the woman and yelled to my partner for a clamp. The movement I saw was probably the baby's arms. I clamped the umbilical cord, cut the cord, swatted the baby, and she started to cry. I yanked the sheet off of the crash cart, wrapped it around the baby, and ran back to the emergency room. You know the rest.\"\n\n\"End of record,\" the recorder announces.\n\nDoctor Chang asks in surprise, \"It happened in the hospital driveway?\"\n\nAlice nods her head and answers, \"Yes, Doctor.\"\n\n\"So close, so very close.\" Doctor Chang looks at her name tag then says, \"Alice, thank you very much for your immediate action and correct responses. You saved this baby's life. If the parents were here, you would have their deepest gratitude. They were so looking forward to this child. Do you know what happened to the father?\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, Doctor. I only saw the woman and the baby. I assume it was the father who was driving the vehicle.\"\n\nThe police officer clarifies, \"One of the other paramedics on the scene said the driver was a male and was dead. We haven't been able to remove the body from the wreckage yet. From documents which were found in an overnight bag in the back seat of the vehicle, and the vehicle documents, we're tentatively identifying the male victim as,\" he looks at his paperwork, \"David Schmidt. The documents from the overnight bag were quite thorough and identified the next-of-kin as Robert Schmidt, apparently the brother of the victim, and his wife Sarah. We've already sent an officer to the address listed for Robert. We also have another officer contacting the family lawyer listed in the documents. The female victim is identified from documents as Soo-Lin Schmidt.\"\n\nDoctor Chang confirms that, \"I personally identified her as Soo-Lin Schmidt when she was brought in. She was one of my patients. One of your fellow officers was with me and filled out the paperwork. I'm sorry, but I didn't get his name.\"\n\n\"I quite understand, Doctor. Under the circumstances, I probably wouldn't have gotten the name either.\" The police officer turns to Alice, \"When would be an appropriate time for you to give a detailed statement?\"\n\n\"Now would be fine. . . . Doctor, would it be okay if I stayed with the baby while I give my statement, at least until the next-of-kin arrive? I know it sounds silly, but I've kind of grown attached to the little one.\"\n\n\"That would be wonderful, Alice. I want to check her over again. When I'm done, maybe you can hold her and rock her to sleep. When everything is settled, she should go to the special care nursery.\"\n\nAfter she gives the baby another thorough examination, Doctor Chang notes that the baby appears to have suffered nothing worse than a normal vaginal delivery. She wraps the baby back up and hands her over as she says, \"Here you go, Alice. If the next-of-kin see you first, please tell them that I would like to talk to them before they go. I want to check with them before I order any more invasive examinations or scans. I will also recommend that the baby stay for a few days for careful observation. Thank you again, Alice, and I'll be back again if I can.\"\n\nWithin moments of being rocked within Alice's arms, Sha-Lin Schmidt, born and orphaned in a single violent act, falls fast asleep in safe and friendly arms.\n\n* * * * *\n\n2125-08-15\n\nWhile they clean up after lunch, Sarah takes the dirty dishes from her daughter's helping hands.\n\n\"Mommy?\"\n\n\"Yes, Sharlene?\"\n\n\"Diane wonders how you can be my mommy when you look different from me. She said someone told her I was adopted and that's why you look different. Am I adopted?\"\n\n\"Do you know what adopted means?\"\n\n\"Uh, no.\"\n\n\"It means that for some reason, your mommy couldn't take care of you, so some other lady was lucky enough to be chosen to be your mommy and to take care of you. Do you remember Natasha?\"\n\n\"I miss her, Mommy.\"\n\n\"I miss her, too. She was a good dog. What happened to her puppies when they didn't have a mommy?\"\n\n\"We got Nadia and she took care of the puppies.\"\n\n\"That's right. Did Nadia take good care of the puppies?\"\n\n\"Yes, she was a good mommy to the puppies.\"\n\n\"Did the puppies look like Nadia?\"\n\nSharlene pauses to remember then says, \"A little, but the puppies and Natasha had short black fur and Nadia had long white fur.\"\n\n\"Well, what Nadia did is what we call adoption. She adopted the puppies and took care of them. Well, to answer your question, Sharlene, yes, you are adopted. Your mommy very much wanted to hold you, love you, and take care of you, but she died. Then I was very lucky to be able to adopt you and be your mommy and take care of you. And that's why we look different from each other. But it doesn't stop us from loving each other, does it?\"\n\n\"No. . . . So, I had a mommy I came out of like the puppies came out of Natasha. Then my mommy died. So you adopted me like Nadia adopted the puppies and now you're my mommy.\"\n\nSarah nods her head as she responds, \"That's exactly right. It might be a little confusing to call us both mommy. I suppose you could call us 'mommy 1' and 'mommy 2'.\"\n\nSharlene giggles, \"That's silly, 'mommy 1' and 'mommy 2'.\"\n\n\"Yes, it probably is a little silly. Why don't you call the mommy you came out of, like Natasha, your mother, and you can continue to call me 'Mommy,' like Nadia was mommy to the puppies.\"\n\n\"Okay. Did you know my . . . mother?\"\n\n\"Yes. I also knew your father.\"\n\n\"My . . . father?\"\n\n\"Just like I'm your mommy and am married to your daddy, so your mother was married to your father.\"\n\n\"Um . . . then I have a mommy, a daddy, a mother, and a father,\" Sharlene holds up a finger as she lists each one. \"That's four. Wow. I can't wait until I can tell Diane.\"\n\n\"Honey, when you tell Diane, don't make her feel bad. A person like Diane is special when she's loved and has two parents and a person like you is special when she's loved and has four parents. The important thing is that you're loved by your parents, not how many parents you have.\"\n\n\"What's a parent?\"\n\n\"A parent is a general word used for either your mommy or your daddy or your mother or your father. You have four parents, a mother and a father who made you, and a mommy and a daddy who take care of you. Diane has two parents, because her mommy is also her mother and her daddy is also her father. Do you understand?\"\n\n\"I think so. Can I tell Diane?\"\n\n\"Yes, you can tell Diane. I just don't want you to tell Diane that she is less special than you are, because you are both very special. Okay?\"\n\n\"Okay. Thank you, Mommy.\"\n\n\"You're welcome, sweetheart,\" Sarah says to the back of a little girl who is running off to play.\n\n* * * * *\n\n2125-09-21\n\nSharlene finds Sarah in the kitchen and asks, \"Mommy?\"\n\n\"Yes, Sharlene?\"\n\n\"What was my mother like?\"\n\n\"She was a very special person who loved your father and really wanted to be your mommy and love you.\"\n\n\"Did she look like me?\"\n\n\"Yes. You've seen her picture.\"\n\n\"I have? Where?\"\n\nSarah leads her to the dining room and says, \"It's right here.\"\n\n\"That's Soo-Lin.\"\n\n\"Yes. Soo-Lin was your mother.\"\n\n\"Is that why her face looks like my face?\"\n\n\"That's part of it.\"\n\n\"How come my skin is a different color from her skin?\n\n\"Who is that in the picture next to Soo-Lin?\"\n\n\"That's David. His skin looks almost like my skin. And he's holding Soo-Lin, I mean my mother. Was David my father?\"\n\n\"Yes. David was your father and Soo-Lin was your mother.\"\n\nSharlene looks more closely at the picture and asks, \"How come David, I mean my father, looks a lot like daddy?\"\n\n\"Because your father and your daddy were brothers.\"\n\n\"Brothers? You mean like Mark and Mike?\"\n\n\"Well, Mark and Mike are brothers, but they're twin brothers which are brothers who were born at the same time. Your father and your daddy are brothers more like Stephen and Luke because they were born at different times.\"\n\n\"Oh. Okay.\"\n\n\"Now, look a little closer at the picture. Can you describe the shirt your mother is wearing?\"\n\n\"Yes. It's pink with a big red arrow and it looks like little black drawings. Does it mean something?\"\n\n\"Yes. It's written in a different language, but it means, 'Sha-Lin sleeps here'.\"\n\n\"Shalean? Who's that?\"\n\n\"That was what your mother was going to name you, but it was spelled on your birth certificate as Sharlene and, well,\" Sarah briefly hesitates before she continues, \"we thought it would be less confusing to other people so we started to call you Sharlene.\"\n\n\"Oh. . . . Then that means I'm in the picture, too!\"\n\n\"You figured it out, very good. Yes, you're in the picture, but we can't see you, because you were still inside of your mother's tummy.\"\n\n* * * * *\n\n2125-10-09\n\nAfter dinner is cleaned up, Sarah hears, \"Mommy?\" and answers, \"Yes, Sharlene?\"\n\n\"Grandma Lucy and Grandpa Mak are your mommy and daddy.\"\n\n\"That's right.\"\n\n\"And Grandma Running Deer and Grandpa Hien-rik, that's hard to say, are Daddy's mommy and daddy.\"\n\n\"That's right.\"\n\n\"Would Grandma Running Deer and Grandpa Hien-rik be my father's mommy and daddy, too?\"\n\n\"Yes. And why do you think that might be?\"\n\nSharlene thinks for a moment then says, \"Um, because they're brothers and brothers have the same mommy and daddy?\"\n\n\"Very good.\"\n\n\"Who are my mother's mommy and daddy?\"\n\n\"That's a little hard to answer. Your mother's mommy was Sha-Lin.\"\n\n\"That was going to be my name.\"\n\n\"That's right, Sharlene. You were going to be named after your mother's mommy because she was a very special person to your mommy and she was sure you were going to be a special person.\"\n\n\"Have I met my mother's mommy?\"\n\n\"No. Before your mother met your father, when your mother was going to college, her mommy died.\"\n\n\"Was my mother adopted by a new mommy?\"\n\n\"No. Your mother was very sad when her mommy died, but she was old enough to take care of herself, so she didn't need a new mommy to take care of her.\"\n\n\"Who was my mother's daddy?\"\n\n\"We don't know who he was. After your mother was born, her daddy went away and nobody knows where he went.\"\n\nSharlene asks in surprise, \"Nobody knows? That's sad.\"\n\n\"Yes, it is. All we know is that he was from the European Sector and we have one picture of him.\"\n\n\"Can I see the picture?\"\n\n\"Sure you can. . . . How would you like to make a picture chart of all the mommies and daddies who made you?\"\n\n\"Oh, boy, I like charts.\"\n\nA couple of minutes later, after they gather the drawing supplies, Sarah suggests, \"Let's draw a box at the bottom of the paper for your picture.\"\n\n\"Can I put my picture there now?\"\n\n\"Why don't we draw some more boxes first and then you can put the pictures in the boxes where they belong?\"\n\n\"Okay, Mommy. Can I draw some boxes?\"\n\n\"Sure. Draw two boxes a little above the box for your picture with a little room between them. . . . That's good. Now draw a line from the bottom of each of those boxes to the top of your box. . . . Very good. Those boxes are for your mother and father.\"\n\nSharlene looks at the drawn boxes and realizes, \"What about you and Daddy?\"\n\n\"Thank you, sweetheart. We didn't help make you, but we would like our pictures on your chart. Okay, draw another box right next to the box for your father and that can be for your daddy since they're brothers. Now draw a line from the bottom of your daddy's box to the side of your box. That will show that your daddy takes care of you. Do you see the space between the boxes for your mother and father?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Leave about the same space next to your daddy's box and draw a box for me.\"\n\n\"And then a line from the bottom of your box to the side of my box to show that you take care of me.\"\n\nSarah exclaims, \"Wow! You figured that our fast. Now above your mother's box you need to draw two boxes for her mommy and daddy with lines connecting them to her box. . . . That's right. And then two boxes and two lines above my box for my mommy and daddy.\"\n\n\"Since my father and my daddy are brothers, that means they had the same mommy and daddy.\"\n\n\"That's right. So draw two boxes for their mommy and daddy. One way to show that they had the same mommy and daddy would be to draw a line from your father's box to his mommy's box and a line from your daddy's box to his daddy's box which will make a big 'X'.\"\n\n\"Like this?\"\n\n\"Very good.\"\n\n\"Mommy?\"\n\n\"Yes, Sharlene?\"\n\n\"Didn't my grandmas and grandpas have mommies and daddies?\"\n\n\"Of course, they did. How smart of you to think of that. But I don't think you have room on your chart for that many more boxes and we don't have pictures of everyone.\"\n\n\"Can I get the pictures now?\"\n\n\"Why don't we make copies of the pictures to put on your chart and then we can keep the pictures on the wall for everybody to see and you can have pictures on your chart for yourself.\"\n\n\"I like that.\"\n\n\"Go get the pictures and bring them to the computer. We can scan the pictures and make some a little bigger and some a little smaller so they're all the same size.\" Several minutes later, Sarah asks, \"Okay, shall we print them out?\"\n\n\"Can I do it?\"\n\n\"Sure. Do you remember how? . . . Very good, Sharlene. Now while they're printing, get the glue and the scissors. Remember, no running with the scissors.\"\n\n\"I know, Mommy. . . . Can I cut out the pictures?\"\n\n\"Yes. Just take your time so you can do a nice job. . . . Very good. Now before you glue them, you want to put them in the right places first. . . . Oops, you might want to switch those two.\"\n\n\"What?\" Sharlene quickly recognizes why Sarah suggested that then giggles, \"Oh, sorry.\"\n\n\"That's better. Now take one picture at a time and glue it in place and that way the pictures won't get mixed up.\" A few minutes later, Sarah tells her, \"Wonderful. That's very good.\"\n\n\"Thank you, Mommy. Can I go show Daddy?\"\n\n\"Yes. Just make sure he's not talking on the phone or busy with something.\"\n\nSharlene carries her chart to Robert's home office and asks, \"Daddy? Are you busy?\"\n\n\"Not for you, sweetheart. What do you have?\"\n\n\"I made a chart and Mommy helped me.\"\n\n\"Really? Can I see it? Why, that's wonderful. But who are all of those people? They must be the fauns and beavers and other friends from Narian.\"\n\n\"No, silly Daddy. They're my mommies and my daddies and their mommies and daddies.\"\n\nRobert looks closer and says in mock surprise, \"Well, I'll be, you're right. Can you tell me who they are?\"\n\n\"This is my mother Soo-Lin and my father David and this is you and Mommy. The line to the side of the box says that you and Mommy didn't make me, but you and Mommy take care of me.\"\n\n\"Very good.\"\n\n\"And this is Grandpa Mak and Grandma Lucy who are Mommy's mommy and daddy. And this is Grandpa Hien-rik, that's hard to say, and Grandma Running Deer who are your mommy and daddy and this big 'X' shows that you and my father are brothers and had the same mommy and daddy.\"\n\n\"That's a smart way to show it.\"\n\n\"And this is Grandpa I don't know his name and Grandma Sha-Lin who were my mother's mommy and daddy.\"\n\n\"That's very good. What a wonderful chart.\"\n\n\"Thank you, Daddy.\" Sharlene hesitates then asks, \"Daddy?\"\n\n\"Yes?\"\n\n\"Can I hang my chart on my wall so I can always find it and look at it when I want to?\"\n\n\"That's an excellent idea.\" Robert suggests, \"While I get my tool box, why don't you go to your room and think about where you want to put your chart and then I'll come to your room and help you hang it. Okay?\"\n\n\"Yippee!\"\n\n* * * * *\n\n2125-10-13\n\nWhile Sarah is attending worship in a local church, Sharlene, in the children's class, raises her hand and asks, \"Teacher?\"\n\n\"Yes, Sharlene.\"\n\n\"What do the colors mean in the color song?\"\n\n\"The color song?\"\n\n\"I don't know the name of the song, but it has colors in it.\"\n\n\"Can you sing it?\"\n\n\"Yes. 'Jesus loves the little children, all the children of the world. Red and yellow, black and white, all are precious in his sight. Jesus loves the little children of the world.' That song.\"\n\n\"The colors in the song are the different skin colors of people.\"\n\nSharlene's eyes open wide in surprise before she asks, \"You mean there are people with red skin and yellow skin and black skin and white skin? Where are they? I've never seen them. I've seen people with red hair, I even saw people with blue hair and purple hair, that was funny, purple hair,\" she giggles.\n\n\"Well, the colors in the song aren't the actual skin colors of people, but represent skin colors. The red color refers to people who are from the Western Sector. The yellow color refers to people who are from the Asian Sector. The black color refers to people who are from the African Sector. And the white color refers to people who are from the European Sector. Does that help?\"\n\n\"Yes. Thank you, Teacher.\"\n\n\"You're welcome.\"\n\nA little later, near the end of the children's class, the teacher hands out line drawings which shows a child with lines to two adults and with lines from them to two more adults for each of the first adults. After the papers are handed out, the teacher tells them, \"Children, while you're waiting for your parents to come and get you, here is a drawing you can color with you at the bottom, then your mommy and daddy in the middle, and your grandparents at the top.\"\n\nA little later as the teacher goes around the room to check on the children, she asks, \"Sharlene?\"\n\n\"Yes, Teacher?\"\n\n\"You stayed within the lines very well when you colored the people, but who are these other people that you drew?\"\n\n\"That's my daddy and my mommy and my mommy's daddy and mommy.\"\n\n\"Then who are these people?\"\n\n\"That's my mother and my father, but they died. So my mommy and daddy adopted me.\"\n\n\"That was very nice of them. If this is your father and this is your daddy, why did you draw them right next to each other with lines going to the same grandparents?\"\n\n\"Because my father and my daddy were brothers and had the same mommy and daddy.\"\n\nThe teacher nods her head, \"That's a good way to draw it. I see that you colored each of your grandparents with a single color and that your mother, your father, and your daddy have two colors. Can you tell me about that?\"\n\nSharlene explains, \"This is Grandma Running Deer and you said that in the color song red meant people from the Western Sector, so I colored her red because that's where she lives. This is Grandpa Hien-rik, that's hard to say. I colored him black because he has dark skin and I've heard people say that he's black and I think he's from the African Sector. This is Grandma Sha-Lin, she had the same name I was going to have. I colored her yellow because you said yellow means the people from the Asian Sector and that's where she was from. This is my other grandpa, I don't know his name, but in his picture he had very light skin so I colored him white. And this is my Grandma Lucy and my Grandpa Mak and they have light skin too.\"\n\n\"That's interesting. So those people with two colors are from parents with two different colors?\"\n\n\"Yes. I colored me brown because my skin is like brown and all those colors mixed together make brown. My daddy tells me my skin is brown because I like to drink chocolate milk, but I think he's teasing me.\"\n\n\"Yes, he's probably teasing you. Can I make a copy of your picture? I'll bring it right back.\"\n\n\"Sure. Here you go.\"\n\nA minute later, the teacher returns the picture to Sharlene who takes the picture and shows it to Sarah who has just arrived to pick her up.\n\n* * * * *\n\n2125-10-16\n\nSarah hears the doorbell ring and opens the door to find three men standing there whom she recognizes as elders from the church she attends.\n\nThe head elder speaks for the group, \"Mrs. Schmidt?\"\n\n\"Yes. How can I help you?\"\n\n\"Can you spare a few minutes of your time?\"\n\n\"Of course, gentlemen, please come in.\" Sarah guides them to the living room and says, \"Please have a seat. Would you care for something to drink, water, iced tea, or fruit juice?\"\n\n\"No, thank you.\"\n\n\"How can I help you?\"\n\n\"It has come to our attention, that your daughter colored a picture with each of her grandparents as a different color.\"\n\n\"Just a moment, please.\" Sarah steps away and soon returns, \"Is this the picture you are referring to?\"\n\n\"I believe that's the picture.\"\n\n\"Yes, Sharlene showed me the picture and carefully explained who each of the people were. Somehow I doubt that you're taking the time from your busy schedules to compliment my daughter on her art work.\"\n\nThe head elder shakes his head as he responds, \"No, ma'am. It seems unusual that she would use, um, shall we say, such single and diverse colors.\"\n\n\"Well, it's true that her grandparents don't have skin the same colors as Sharlene colored them, but within the language of today's society, she was quite accurate.\"\n\n\"You mean, uh . . .\"\n\n\"Just a moment, please.\" Sarah turns towards the dining room and speaks up, \"Sharlene?\"\n\n\"Yes, Mommy?\"\n\n\"Can I borrow your chart with the pictures of your grandparents?\"\n\n\"Sure, Mommy. Do you want me to bring it?\"\n\n\"No, I can get it, you keep doing your school work.\"\n\n\"Okay, Mommy.\"\n\nSarah soon returns from Sharlene's bedroom and shows them the chart as she explains, \"Here, gentlemen, are pictures of Sharlene's grandparents. As you can see, her coloring was correct, based on how society describes ancestry to skin color.\"\n\n\"Uh . . .\"\n\n\"Gentlemen, every person on this chart, except for one, I have personally known or known somebody who knew them and they were all warm, caring, loving people. The one exception is this white man who impregnated Sharlene's grandmother and left her to raise her child alone. When Sharlene's parents . . . died, we were able to adopt her as our own child.\"\n\n\"Um, this could be a problem.\"\n\nThey hear a voice from behind them, \"What's the problem, Gentlemen?\"\n\nSarah says, \"Gentlemen, I'd like to introduce you to my husband, Robert.\"\n\n\"Your husband?\"\n\nRobert greets them, \"Hello, Gentlemen. I presume that the problem you're referring to is that Sharlene is the product of 'mixed marriages' and that to resolve the problem, you want to punish Sharlene for what her grandparents and parents did.\"\n\n\"Well, I wouldn't put it so harshly.\"\n\n\"Maybe you want to soften the words, but the intent is the same. For the sake of this discussion, shall we assume that the Bible is accurate?\"\n\nThe head elder is indignant as he exclaims, \"Of course it is!\"\n\n\"Then why don't you believe it?\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\nRobert explains, \"After the flood, the Bible clearly says that all of the people on the earth are descended from Noah and his three sons. How can you say that there are various races when there was only one to begin with and we all came from the same source? In Noah, there was only one race, which is called humanity. And the incident at the Tower of Babel wasn't to separate the so-called races, it was to put a stop to consolidated arrogance. When you talk about maintaining the purity of your race, you're really encouraging the splintering of the human race. And when you splinter the human race far enough and put it into isolated pockets, you don't get a pure race, you get inbreeding with dangerous genetic mutations.\n\n\"Why do you want to separate people based on their skin color or where their recent ancestors came from? Why not separate people based on the color of their eyes, or the length of their big toe, or the number of swirls in their fingerprints, or the hour of the day on which they were born? Gentlemen, I'm sorry. I didn't intend to get on my soap box, but please take the time to think, to be honest, and to read what's actually in the Bible. Don't take your prejudices in with you. If you don't want Sharlene or me to attend your church because you're prejudiced against people with colored skin, that's fine. But at least be honest and say so.\"\n\nThe head elder proclaims, \"We couldn't do that.\"\n\nRobert asks, \"Why not? I'd rather you be honest, than that you lie about your motives and hide it under some fancy theological jargon which won't stand up in the light of the Bible.\"\n\n\"Well, . . . um, . . . uh . . . .\"\n\n\"Gentlemen, thank you for coming and sharing your valuable time. I think you've given us plenty to think about for now. Good day.\"\n\nA few minutes after the church elders have left, Robert takes Sarah into his arms and suggests, \"Honey, I think it's time we moved back to the Trader Sector.\"\n\n\"Oh dear. Do you think so?\"\n\n\"For Sharlene's sake, yes. So far, I don't think she's noticed the strange looks she gets wherever she goes, but it won't be long before the prejudice becomes more obvious and dangerous.\"\n\n\"You're probably right. But to go back . . . .\"\n\n\"Has the pain of your memories been less since we've been here?\"\n\n\"No. What about the business?\"\n\n\"I can do my work just as well from the company headquarters since the local office runs quite well on its own. If there's a problem, we can always teleconference or I can fly over.\"\n\n\"But there will be more things to remind me of . . . . I still can't say it.\"\n\n\"I know, but if we move, you'll be closer to your parents and Sharlene will be closer to her grandparents.\"\n\n\"That's true. . . . Okay, Robert.\"\n\n\"Did you want to talk to your parents and see if you can stay with them for a few weeks until we can buy a new home?\"\n\n\"Yes. Sharlene will probably see it as a vacation while she helps out on the farm. Thank you, Robert. Let's do it.\"\n\n* * * * *\n\n2127-04-34\n\nA week has passed and the proper ceremonies have been conducted. Maria is free from any kind of infection, either physical or spiritual. And the issue from her womb has remained flesh and blood and is quite normally breathing, sleeping, eating, and defecating. Pablo can now claim to have a living daughter. Hopefully this one will live more than a handful of years like his and Maria's first daughter. Her full name has been entered into the cultural records which lists her matriarchal lineage out for many generations.\n\nWhile he has to swallow some pride, Pablo takes the Trader Sector government's certificate of live birth form to a nephew who isn't even an adult yet to help him fill out the required information in the standard language. Since there's only room for three names, they list Pablo's daughter's first three names: her given name, her mother's name, and her assigned Great Aunt's name. Her grandmother's name is her fourth name because her third name is that of the woman who will be Pablo and Maria's daughter's mentor into the traditions of their culture who also happens to be her actual related great aunt. After the form has been turned in to the local government office and registered, Angelisa Maria Sohneetuh becomes an official child citizen.\n\n* * * * *\n\n2133-09-04\n\n\"Mom?\"\n\n\"Yes, Sharlene?\"\n\n\"How did my mother die?\"\n\n\"Oh dear!\" Sarah quickly moves to a chair and sits down.\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, but I've been dreading the day you were going to ask that question.\"\n\nSharlene is puzzled at that response so she asks, \"Why have you dreaded it? Did my mother do something wrong?\"\n\n\"Oh no, not at all. Neither your mother nor your father did anything wrong.\"\n\n\"Did my mother and father die at the same time? I seem to understand it as though it was implied, but I don't know that it was ever clearly stated.\"\n\nSarah pauses before she nods her head, \"Yes, they died at the same time. We probably haven't outright said it. It was one of the subjects which your dad and I along with your grandparents have had numerous discussions about and were never comfortable with the options of when to tell you the details. We finally decided that the best way for us to know when you were ready to learn more details, would be when you asked for more details. We don't know if it will end up being the right decision or a wrong decision. We didn't want to hide any of the truth from you, but we also didn't want to tell you things you might have been too young to understand.\"\n\n\"You mean like when you told me I was adopted, you used the story of how Nadia took care of Natasha's puppies after she died?\"\n\n\"Yes. If we had told you that your mother died and we had adopted you, it probably would have confused you more. But by relating it to something you knew about, you were able to see the connection and understand it.\"\n\n\"That makes sense. If they didn't do something wrong, what's so dreadful about telling me?\"\n\n\"Because, Sharlene, it's very sad. And I feel upset, hurt, and angry whenever I remember it, even after all these years.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, Mom, I don't want to hurt you, but I really want to know. Is there someone else I can ask?\"\n\n\"Let me give you the very basic story and then you can talk to the person who can tell you all of the details you want to know. Does that sound okay?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\nSarah hesitates before she briefly explains, \"Your father was driving your mother to the hospital because you were about to be born. As they turned into the hospital emergency entrance, a large farm vehicle driven by a drunk driver crashed into your father's vehicle and killed them. A paramedic saw it happen, ran to the wreck, saw that your mother was dead, found you, helped you finish being born, and carried you to the hospital emergency room. The doctors examined you to make sure you were okay and the paramedic stayed with you the whole time. In fact, when a policeman brought your dad to the hospital after the accident, the paramedic was holding you while you slept.\"\n\n\"Is that why you always speak so strongly against a person being drunk while they're driving a vehicle?\"\n\n\"The family has always been against people drinking alcohol in excess, but the death of your mother and father added a very strong personal argument to the issue.\"\n\n\"So who do I talk to who can tell me all of the details?\" Sharlene briefly pauses in thought then remembers, \"Wait a minute. You said a paramedic saw it happen.\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"I know a paramedic, Alice. Was Alice the paramedic who saw it and helped me to be born and stayed with me?\"\n\n\"Yes, Sharlene, Alice was the paramedic and she's watched over you ever since. She also made copies of everything related to the whole situation so that when you were ready to know the details, she could give them to you, as much or as little as you want to know. I'll warn you, some of the details are very unpleasant and you might want to wait a few years before you ask for all of the details. But the family and Alice have talked about it and will give you any details you ask for. And you know the saying . . . .\"\n\n\"Be careful what you ask for, because you might get it. I understand the warning, Mom. Can I think about it for a few days before I ask Alice for the details?\"\n\n\"Of course. Why don't I call Alice and let her know you're thinking about it. She might have a way of relating the details in layers so when you talk to her, you can decide how deep into the layers of details you might want to go. After you've had some time to think about it, you can call Alice and make the arrangements to meet with her and talk about it.\"\n\n\"You mean to set up a meeting like Dad does when he talks to someone and says he wants to meet with them at 'x' time in 'y' place for a period of time to discuss 'z'?\"\n\nSarah nods her head as she answers, \"That's right, Sharlene. You can probably be less formal with Alice, but the concept is the same. Remember, she works some odd hours, so it may be a few days after you decide before you can talk to her or meet with her.\"\n\n\"I understand. Mom, would it be okay if I invited Alice here for lunch or dinner and then we can talk afterwards?\"\n\n\"Sure, but if you do the inviting, then that means you're the hostess, so you'll need to organize and prepare the meal and clean up after it.\"\n\n\"Um, I suppose that means something more than peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.\"\n\n\"I think you can do better than that. Oh, one more warning before you talk to Alice. She's been a paramedic for many years and has seen a lot of very bad things. To do her job, she's had to try to ignore some of those things and not let them bother her. Alice is very nice and would never try to hurt you or anyone else, but sometimes she forgets that things which don't bother her can upset someone else very much.\"\n\n\"You mean like some people can watch and talk about animal shows where the predators eat their prey and other people can't watch them at all?\"\n\n\"That's what I mean.\"\n\n\"Okay. Thanks, Mom.\"\n\n\"You're welcome, Sharlene.\"\n\n* * * * *\n\n2133-09-15 (a1)\n\n\"Thank you, Sharlene. That was a very good meal.\"\n\n\"You're welcome, Alice.\"\n\n\"I understand you made it yourself?\"\n\n\"Mom helped. But she said that if I was going to invite you to a meal, especially when it was my idea, then I was the hostess and it was my responsibility to make it a success and not pawn off the duty onto someone else.\"\n\n\"Smart lady, your mom,\" Alice winks at Sarah.\n\n\"I guess Mom figures I need to expand my social skills beyond beating up obnoxious boys.\" Sharlene gives her mom a significant glance.\n\n\"So, you go around beating up obnoxious boys? How long does it take you to identify them as obnoxious? And do you limit it to just obnoxious boys? What about obnoxious girls? I don't know, Sharlene, it sounds like you're somewhat discriminatory.\"\n\n\"Alice!?!\"\n\nShe answers in a voice of surprised innocence, \"Yes?\"\n\n\"I don't go around beating up anybody. It's just that . . . well, . . . a couple of days ago, two new boys came to the martial arts class I attend and started in on me about being small and being a girl and that martial arts was a man's sport. They were both at least a head taller than I am and weighed quite a bit more. They were probably in their late teens. Even though I tried to ignore it, the coach could see that I was starting to get upset, so he called the two new boys to the front of the class and asked them what their style and levels were. After they told him, the coach just stood there like he was thinking something over long enough for the smug smiles on the two boys to dim some. He then called me to the front of the class. Come on, Mom, the coach was right there, he wasn't going to let me get seriously hurt.\"\n\n\"I know, Sharlene. I just don't like the violence.\"\n\n\"I don't either, Mom, but if I can't defend myself, I'll end up being a victim.\"\n\n\"Smart girl, 'mom',\" Alice winks at Sharlene.\n\nShe continues her story, \"Before I got to the front of the class, two of the other students stopped me and stepped up to the coach in my place. Both of them are bigger and probably older than the two new boys. 'Coach,' they said, 'we respect Sharlene and don't like the way these two BOYS insulted her. We would like to stand in her stead so she doesn't have to dirty her hands to demonstrate her honor to these two.' The coach looked at them for a moment before he responded, 'Gentlemen, I appreciate your concern, but there are times when each person must get their own hands dirty.' A moment later, the bigger of my two fellow students turned to the two new boys said, 'If I hear that you've bothered Sharlene again, I'll deal with you, outside of class.'\n\n\"As my two fellow students stepped back to their places, I gave them both a big hug and whispered, 'Thank you,' to each of them. I thought the coach would chastise me for breaking class decorum, but when he called me to the front of the class again, I could hear the laughter in his voice. As I stepped forward, the other students along the way reached out to touch me, grab my hand, or pat me on the back. I never realized before how much they cared about me and supported me. It was a wonderful feeling, yet it was also humbling at the same time.\n\n\"When I arrived at the mat in front of the class, the coach clearly said for all to hear, 'Sharlene, you may defend yourself to the extent which you feel is necessary to protect yourself.' Then he turned to the two boys and said, 'Young men, she accepts your challenge.' One of them looked at me, looked at the coach, looked at me, looked back at the coach, and asked, 'Both of us against HER?' 'Both of you or one at a time, that's up to you,' replied the coach, 'you may begin.'\n\n\"The two boys turned their backs to me to whisper to each other which was really stupid because I could have attacked them, except the coach had clearly said, 'defend'. After they finished whispering, they slapped raised palms, flexed their muscles, waved their arms around, and got into position. I just stood there, relaxed, slowed my breathing, and centered myself, just like I had been taught. This was the first time I needed to use my training outside of very controlled practices or the rules of a tournament.\n\n\"As they attacked me, I didn't think, I let my training guide my body. It was like I stepped outside of myself and watched it happen as though I was just an observer. When it was over, I found myself standing in position and the two boys were both curled up on the exercise mat and groaning. After I relaxed from my defensive posture, I gave the boys a slight bow and said, 'Thank you for the exercise.' As I straightened up, the coach gave me a grin and a wink. I stepped away from the center mat and my fellow students surrounded me and congratulated me. Some even thanked me for showing what the training could do. It felt wonderful. I don't think I had ever before felt the sense of 'belonging to the group' like I did then. I think I hugged every one of them.\n\n\"After a few minutes, the coach clapped his hands and we quickly quieted and returned to our places. He told the class, 'Sharlene's honor has been demonstrated and my honor has been preserved, since it has been my privileged duty to train her.' To the two new boys, who were then starting to sit up, he said, 'Young men, you will leave this class and you will leave Sharlene and these other students alone. The only way you can come here as a student, is if you come to me individually and in humility, apologize for disturbing the class, and beg to be a student. If I do not believe you are sincere, you will not be allowed to enter. You may now leave.' After the two boys got to their feet and stumbled out, the coach sent his assistant to make sure they left the building. Then he guided us back to our practice and drills as though nothing had happened.\"\n\nSharlene takes a quick drink before she continues, \"When the class was over, I hung back and waited until the other students had left and asked the coach if I could talk to him. He indicated agreement, so I asked him what he meant when he said my honor was demonstrated. He did the typical 'teacher thing' and instead of answering, he asked me what I thought he meant. I said that after he said, 'begin', when the two boys turned their backs on me, I could have attacked them, but that I had followed his instruction to 'defend' and only to the point of protecting myself. He responded, 'That's what I meant by your honor demonstrated. You defended yourself by incapacitating your attackers, but without causing them any real harm except to their egos. Now, I have a question for you, could you have hurt them more?' I had to think about that one for a little while then said, 'Yes.'\n\n\"He explained, 'Thus you have learned two valuable lessons today: one, you can protect yourself even when the attacker has all of the obvious advantages, height, weight, reach, strength, and age which presumes experience; two, you responded to the attack with the minimum force necessary to accomplish your task of protecting yourself. In addition to what you learned, you provided your fellow students with a valuable lesson, that the training works and that they can defend themselves. Many people, young and old, take martial arts classes because their parents insisted, or it looks cool, or for the exercise, or to be the toughest kid on the block. Few really believe they will ever be in a situation where they have to defend themselves.'\n\n\"He let me think about that for a few moments before he went on, 'That's why I didn't allow your friends to defend you, but required you to get your own hands dirty. You're the smallest student in the class and one of the youngest and I'm sure that your fellow students are telling themselves, even if they only do it subconsciously, that \"if Sharlene can do it, then I can do it, too\". I can safely predict that several of your fellow students will take more interest in their training and work harder at their practice, because they've seen before their very own eyes, how real the need can be and how successful the results can be. You helped the lesson by facing the conflict calmly and left it calmly without gloating which showed that you are neither a bully nor trying to impress someone. For that I thank you.' All I could do was tell him I appreciated him taking the time to talk to me and to thank him for his patience and training. To the surprise of both of us, I gave him a quick hug, said, 'Thank you,' again and left.\"\n\nAlice grins as she exclaims, \"That's excellent, Sharlene. I would have liked to have been there.\" She turns and says, \"Sarah, I know you're not keen on martial arts training, especially for your little girl, but believe me, I wish many other young women had the training which Sharlene has received. It would make a very positive difference in so many of their lives and the tragedies I've seen. For them to be able to defend themselves and to have the confidence to do so, could have possibly prevented the lives of many young women from being destroyed. Sharlene's coach also sounds wise in helping her to understand the choices she has available before, during, and after a crisis situation.\" Alice turns back to Sharlene and asks, \"So, what has your coach said to do if you're in a similar situation on the street and your potential assailant is momentarily distracted?\"\n\n\"Excuse my language, Mom, but our coach said to run like hell and lose ourselves in a crowd or in a store.\"\n\n\"And if there's no crowd to lose yourself in?\"\n\n\"He said to run even faster.\"\n\nAlice laughs then proclaims, \"Wonderful! I think I'd like to meet your coach someday. I'm going to stick my nose in here a little. Sarah, I want to encourage you to help Sharlene keep up on her training. Sharlene, continue your training, but more so, when you meet other young women, especially those who are vulnerable to being victims, you'll recognize them more quickly as you grow older, find a way to get them into martial arts training with a good coach. You won't save the world, but every young woman who you can encourage to gain self-defense skills and self-confidence, you will have saved their world.\"\n\nSarah responds, \"Alice, thank you for your encouragement. Despite my personal feelings, I know it's the right thing for Sharlene to be taking martial arts training. Sometimes it helps to have a reminder that it really is needed, especially from someone who's seen what happens when the training isn't available.\"\n\n\"Sarah, you've been a good mom.\"\n\n\"Thank you again, Alice. Now I'm going to change the subject. Would you like some more iced tea?\"\n\n\"Gee, I thought Sharlene was supposed to be the hostess. I'm teasing you, kiddo. I think you have other things on your mind. Yes, please, Sarah. I think I'll use the restroom before we go any further.\"\n\nWhen Alice steps out of the room, Sarah turns to Sharlene and asks, \"Do you want me to sit in while Alice tells you about your parents?\"\n\n\"That's up to you, Mom. I know you know what happened and I know you don't like to think or talk about it. I think I can handle it. I'm pretty sure Alice will take it in small steps. Why don't I start out listening to Alice alone, but if it gets to be too much, I'll come get you or if I can get through it, maybe I can come to you later and have a good cry. Would that be okay?\"\n\n\"Of course, dear.\"\n\n\"Should I take Alice to another room to talk about it?\"\n\n\"That won't be necessary. Go ahead and stay here if you're comfortable unless Alice needs to use the computer or something.\"\n\n\"Okay. Somehow it seems like now is the right time to learn about this.\"\n\n\"You're probably right. Let me know if you need me.\"\n\n\"Thanks, Mom.\"\n\n* * * * *\n\n2133-09-15 (a2)\n\nAlice returns and since she sees only Sharlene, she asks, \"Did Sarah decide to sit this one out?\"\n\n\"Yes. It distresses her to think or talk about my mother's death.\"\n\n\"Don't be too hard on her, I think she's been a very good mom for you. She's a sensitive lady and your mother's death was a very tragic event for her. There was more going on than I'm willing or at liberty to tell you about and just telling you that much might be opening up a can of worms. I can tell you about your mother and father's deaths and I can tell you some of the things which happened afterwards, but for some of the other related events, you're going to have to talk to somebody else. If your mom will talk about it, that would be good, but, Sharlene, whatever you do, don't push her. I really mean it, don't push her to talk about it.\"\n\n\"You're serious.\"\n\nAlice nods her head as she responds, \"Yes, I'm very serious. I don't mean to scare you, but I want to emphasize how serious I am. If you push her to talk about the related events, it could hurt her very very much. On second thought, don't even ask her about it. If you think you want to know, talk to one of your grandmothers, or better yet, your aunt Paula. Be patient, wait a few weeks after we talk and then see if you can arrange some time alone with your aunt. Okay?\"\n\n\"Okay.\"\n\n\"Let's go back to the subject of your mother and father's deaths. I'm going to start by asking you some questions. The reason is that I want to know how much you already know so I don't repeat what someone else has told you and to get an idea of how deep into the details you might be ready to go. As I talk, if there's something you don't understand, please interrupt and ask. At the end, if you have questions about anything, ask and I'll see if I can answer them. Do you have any questions so far?\"\n\n\"No, but you haven't really said anything.\"\n\n\"About the subject matter, no, but I want to make sure you understand how I'm going to approach the subject matter.\"\n\n\"Oh. Okay, Alice. No questions so far.\"\n\n\"What do you know about how your mother and father died?\"\n\n\"Mom told me a few days ago that my father was driving my mother to the hospital because I was about to be born. As they turned into the hospital entrance, a drunk driver in a farm vehicle hit their vehicle and killed them. A paramedic saw it happen, ran to the wreck, saw my mother was dead, found me, helped me finish being born, carried me to the emergency room where the doctors examined me, and the paramedic stayed with me until Dad got to the hospital. When I questioned her, Mom said you were the paramedic.\"\n\n\"That's right.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry it never occurred to me before, but,\" Sharlene steps around the table, gives Alice a hug, and says, \"thank you for saving me.\"\n\n\"You're welcome. I'm very glad I was there and was able to save you. I can truthfully say I was just doing my duty, but it's been a real pleasure for me to watch you grow up and for me to be welcomed by your family and by you. Every time I see you or spend time with your family, I'm reminded of why I do my job and how it helps real people. It gives me the strength to keep going. Even with all of the bad things I see, in the back of my head is the thought that at the next emergency I go to, maybe I'll save another Sharlene.\"\n\nWhen she notices the surprised look on her face, Alice nods her head and assures her, \"Yes, really. And I'm not saying it just to make you feel good. Most of us have an emergency we responded to which is special in our minds, usually one that happened early in our career, one that waves a flag and says, 'This is why I'm a paramedic.' Saving Sharlene happens to be the emergency which waves a flag in my mind.\"\n\n\"Thank you, Alice,\" she gives her another hug.\n\n\"Thank you, Sharlene, for giving me hope. And if you keep giving out hugs, I'm going to have to visit more often to get my selfish share of them. Alright, sit down here next to me and we'll move on. So, how do you feel about the death of your mother and father?\"\n\n\"That's kind of hard to say. When the family talks about them, it's like everybody's read the same book and they're telling me bits and pieces of the story without any order. I understand they were my biological parents, but I never met them so it's hard to have a personal feeling. I can feel more sadness about our dog, Natasha, dying than about my parents. And then that makes me feel guilty for not being sad about them, especially when the rest of the family is feeling sad. I like to hear the stories about my biological parents, what they were like and the things they did, but sooner or later the talk turns to how sad it was they died and what their lives could have been like if they had lived. Usually by then, I've slipped out of the room.\"\n\nAlice nods her head as she responds, \"I understand what you mean. I don't have the same personal experience you have, but I've talked to a lot of people who had very similar experiences and their feelings are just like yours. They think they ought to be sad because everyone around them is sad, but there's no personal impact to cause the sadness. One trick some people have used to fit in with a sad family gathering is to think of something sad from their own life, to sort of transfer the feeling of sadness from a known person to an unknown person. For you, it might be thinking about Natasha when the family is talking about your biological parents. The trick doesn't always work, and it's somewhat dishonest, but for some people who feel the need to fit in, it sometimes helps.\"\n\nSharlene hesitates before she says, \"I hope it doesn't sound too harsh, but sometimes I think of my biological parents as test tubes. The ingredients are mixed up and out pops me. When somebody says the word 'parents', what comes to my mind is Mom and Dad. I've known them, they've taken care of me, they're my parents as far as I'm concerned. If something happened to them, then I really would feel the sadness and probably be very angry at whoever took them away from me. I suppose I'm lucky compared to some kids who have lost one or both of their biological parents and didn't have somebody willing to step in to be mom and dad to them.\"\n\n\"You're right about being lucky and I'm glad you recognize it. To summarize so far, you know the basic facts that your mother and father were killed in a vehicle wreck caused by a drunk driver and there's no personal energy associated with the facts, because you didn't personally know them. If the family didn't bring up the relationship, it would be like you read about the wreck in the newspaper or saw it on the television news.\"\n\n\"Yes, that's about right.\"\n\n\"Another question, have you watched any television shows or movies about police officers or paramedics?\"\n\n\"I've seen a couple of episodes and parts of others when I was bored and flipped channels.\"\n\n\"What did you think of them?\"\n\nSharlene hesitates a little before she expresses her opinion, \"Mostly, I thought they were overdone. Too much panic, too much reaction, the lines were either just above the grunt of an ape or they're trying to sound like Shakespeare while they're clamping off a blood vessel in a gaping wound. And the women with their fancy hair, perfect makeup, and jewelry look like they just need to take off their uniform and we'll see that they're wearing some designer evening gown and are ready to go to some fancy party rather than to a vehicle wreck.\"\n\nAlice starts to chuckle at the idea of Shakespeare clamping off a blood vessel and is laughing out loud when Sharlene finishes her description. It takes her a couple of minutes for her laughter to diminish to chuckles before she can verbally respond, \"Oh, that's got to be one of the best descriptions of those shows I've ever heard. Marvelous, simply marvelous.\" When she notices her puzzled smile, she explains, \"I'm sorry, Sharlene, I'm not laughing at you. Your description matches those shows which are nothing like real life. I was just imagining myself coming off shift where we went to two vehicle wrecks and pulled a drowned baby out of a pool. I'm covered in blood, I'm hot and sweaty, I'm angry at the stupidity of people who let a baby drown in a pool, and a television producer thinks I'm ready to yank off my uniform and go party all night long. The contrast between the two is so ridiculous, that we treat it as funny instead of sad.\"\n\n\"I think I understand that, even if I don't feel it. I think it might be like Grandpa when he talks about politicians and can only laugh at them because they haven't got a clue, otherwise he would be depressed at the sadness of the situation.\"\n\nAlice nods her head as she says, \"Yep, you understand. It's sad to say, but in a few years, you'll probably feel it as well. Okay, on to the next step. Do you have any idea what caused the death of your mother and father?\"\n\n\"All I heard is that they were killed in their vehicle when the drunk driver's farm vehicle hit them.\"\n\n\"When you heard that, did you have any kind of mental image?\"\n\n\"I've seen vehicle wrecks in television shows and there's usually broken windows with the flying glass cutting people, or the vehicle gets hit in front or back and the people hurt their necks, or the vehicle gets knocked off the road, rolls a few times, dents the roof, and the people are hurt with maybe a broken bone. When I hear killed in a vehicle wreck, no image seems to fit.\"\n\n\"That makes sense. Before I go on, do you have any questions?\"\n\nSharlene pauses before she answers, \"One thing which puzzles me is I was told that you helped me be born. How did you help me? Aren't babies just born?\"\n\n\"Have you seen any kind of birth?\"\n\n\"Yes. I saw Natasha give birth to puppies and I've seen some television shows of other animals being born.\"\n\n\"Did Natasha experience any problems?\"\n\n\"No. They just seemed to slide out, Natasha licked them clean and we moved them closer to Natasha's tummy so they could drink her milk.\"\n\n\"Do you know how a baby grows inside of its mother?\"\n\n\"Kind of. I have a book that describes it.\"\n\nAlice suggests, \"Why don't you get the book and maybe that will help me explain.\"\n\nSharlene is soon back and hands her the book as she says, \"Here it is.\"\n\n\"Okay, here's a drawing of a baby about to be born. The baby fills up the mother's lower abdomen, the baby's head is down, and the umbilical cord, here, connects the baby and the mother. When the baby comes out of the mother, the hole for the baby is barely big enough for the baby's head to come out, so the mother has to push the baby out with her abdominal muscles. Once the baby's head and shoulders come out, like it shows here, then the rest of the baby usually comes out rather easily. Then the umbilical cord is clamped, like in this picture, and cut to separate the baby and the mother. The baby is then cleaned up, examined by the doctor, and given to the mother to hold. Do you have any questions about that?\"\n\n\"Um, no. I assume that something was different for me.\"\n\nAlice nods her head as she responds, \"Yes. Let's go back a couple of pictures to where the head and shoulders are out. I don't know exactly why, but you were stuck just a little past this point so your arms were out and your legs were still inside of your mother. When I found you, I pulled you the rest of the way out, clamped the umbilical cord, cut it, spanked you, covered you up, and ran you to the emergency room.\"\n\nSharlene takes most of a minute to get over her surprise and asks, \"Why did you spank me?\"\n\n\"To encourage you to breathe. When a baby is inside of its mother, it's in liquid and doesn't breathe air, so when it's born, it has to learn very quickly how to breathe air and one of the fastest ways to help the baby learn, is to spank it. The pain on the bottom causes the baby to suck in air and it starts to breathe, usually with some crying. The pain and the crying soon stop and the baby is usually breathing as though it was very normal. Does that answer your question about how I helped you to be born?\"\n\n\"Yes, thank you.\"\n\n* * * * *\n\n2133-09-15 (a3)\n\nAlice pauses to take a drink before she continues, \"Now, Sharlene, on to the question of how your mother and father died. From what you've seen on television and so forth, it seems like the vehicle can be busted up badly, but people live through it, so you don't understand how your mother and father died. Is that a fair statement?\"\n\n\"Yes, I did wonder about that.\"\n\n\"To clarify, the damage to a vehicle often doesn't reflect the damage done to the people inside. I've seen times where a vehicle looked like it had been run over by a military tank, but when the vehicle was finally cut open, the person inside didn't have a scratch. Other times, a vehicle will barely have a dent, but the people inside are dead. Or a vehicle will be pretty bashed up and one person inside will have serious injuries and the person who was sitting next to them will climb out of the vehicle as though they had just parked at the grocery store.\"\n\n\"So when you go on a call, and see a wrecked vehicle, you don't know what the condition of the people inside will be.\"\n\nAlice nods her head as she responds, \"That's right. Now for your mother and father, I brought a two dimensional map board showing where the wreck occurred and I'll walk you through what happened. First, let me set the scene. It was in the middle of the night and it was very stormy. The rain was heavy and the wind was blowing in strong gusts. Usually, when a first child is born, it can be several hours from the time the mother feels the first contractions until the baby is born. In your mother's case, it was a much shorter period of time. It was very close to the time for you to be born when your father called your mother's doctor and drove your mother to the hospital. On the map board, this cutout will represent your father's vehicle and this bigger cutout will represent the farm vehicle.\n\n\"As they came down this street, your father slowed down and started to turn into the hospital entrance here. At the same time, the farm vehicle was going fast and ran through the red light at this intersection, swerved slightly to avoid a vehicle which was coming along the other street, and came across the street at an angle like this. Your father's vehicle had completed the turn when the farm vehicle hit your father's vehicle about here, shoved it across the sidewalk and between the corner of the parking garage here and a concrete support for a street light here. Your mom says you're good at physical science. For the moment, Sharlene, I want you to take off your hat which is concerned about what happened to your biological parents and put on your scientist's hat. What do you think happened to the vehicles based on how I described their collision?\"\n\n\"Well, . . . I would guess . . . that . . . the front of the vehicle would be crushed against the . . . hold it . . . how high were the family vehicle and the farm vehicle?\"\n\nAlice nods her head as she responds, \"That's a good question. Let me get out another map board, this one is in three dimensions and shows the parking garage here, the street light here, the sidewalk in front of it, the curb, and the street. This model represents the family vehicle and this one, the farm vehicle. The farm vehicle comes across the street and hits the family vehicle here. What happens next?\"\n\n\"My first thought is the farm vehicle would roll over the top of the family vehicle because of the difference in their heights. But I'm missing something.\"\n\n\"What was the weather like?\"\n\n\"Raining.\"\n\n\"What does rain do to vehicle tires?\"\n\n\"They become slippery and slide.\" Sharlene thinks for a moment then guesses, \"So, when the farm vehicle hit the family vehicle here, the family vehicle slid across the curb and sidewalk until it hit the parking garage, then the farm vehicle climbed on top of the family vehicle until it hit the parking garage and the weight of the farm vehicle crushed the family vehicle roof.\"\n\n\"That's essentially what happened. . . . Now, what happened to the people inside of the family vehicle?\"\n\n\"Um, the driver would be my father and sit here . . . oh . . . .\"\n\n\"Sharlene, are you okay?\"\n\n\"I'm beginning . . . to build an image . . . in my mind . . . it's not pretty.\" Sharlene quickly turns into Alice's arms and breaks down and cries. After several minutes and some tissues which were within reach, the tears subside, but when she glances at the three dimensional map board, it brings the tears back. A couple of minutes and several tissues later, Sharlene looks up and with a hard glint to her eyes, she stares at the map board for a long time.\n\n\"Sharlene?\"\n\n\"I'll be okay. . . . It's just that . . . when I went . . . through the scenario . . . in my head . . . all of a sudden . . . my father . . . my mother . . .\" the tears renew their path down her cheeks, \". . . all of a sudden . . . my father . . . my mother . . . became . . . real people . . . and not . . . story book characters.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, Sharlene.\"\n\n\"No. . . . I had to know. . . . You let me figure it out. . . . He was crushed, wasn't he?\"\n\nThis time, Alice can only nod her head with tears in her eyes. They hug and cry together for several long minutes.\n\n\"I didn't know it could hurt so much. No wonder the family is always sad when they talk about my mother and father.\" Sharlene shakes her head as she says, \"What a way for the light to dawn.\"\n\n\"Sometimes it's the only way.\"\n\n\"How can you be a paramedic and see it all of the time?\"\n\n\"We remember the successes, like you. We also tend to develop a rather morbid sense of humor.\"\n\n\"Laugh, otherwise you'll be very depressed at the sadness of the situation.\"\n\nAlice nods her head as she agrees, \"That's it.\"\n\n\"What about my mother?\"\n\n\"What do you think?\"\n\n\"Based on this diagram and on the fact that I survived, she wasn't crushed.\"\n\n\"That's right.\"\n\nSharlene hesitates then asks, \"Can you explain, Alice? . . . I don't think I'm up to any more guesses.\"\n\n\"Okay. I won't claim to understand the physics of it, but apparently, when the farm vehicle hit your father's vehicle here and forced his vehicle between the parking garage and the street light support, it bent the frame enough so the front passenger door flew open. The parking garage stopped the momentum of the vehicle, but it didn't stop the momentum of the people who were inside of the vehicle.\"\n\n\"So my mother . . . was thrown . . . out of the vehicle?\"\n\n\"Not quite. She was wearing her seat belt and her seat was partially reclined. So when . . . so when . . . I'm sorry. . .\" tears stream down Alice's face before she partially regains her composure, \". . . so when her body . . . was partially thrown from the vehicle . . . her head . . . hit the door jamb . . . and broke her neck. . . . Later, the doctors found . . . that her brain . . . had suffered . . . massive damage.\" Several minutes later when her emotions are under more control, Alice says, \"I'm sorry, Sharlene. I didn't mean to make you sadder. I'm usually not so emotional.\"\n\n\"Thank you for telling me about my parents. I think it will take some time for it all to sink in. You don't get to cry about the sad things you see, do you?\"\n\nAlice shakes her head then verbally answers, \"No. It would make it harder to do my job and go out on the next call.\"\n\n\"So you have to just hold it all in?\"\n\n\"Yes. Some people try to forget about it by going to lots of parties or drinking a lot. Or they become callous and only have friends who are callous. Or they do all of it, just to escape the pain.\"\n\nThe silence stretches to minutes as they sit there with their own thoughts while they hold each other's hand for comfort. Alice picks up the pitcher of iced tea, refills their glasses, and takes a long drink. After she sets her glass down, she gives Sharlene a sad smile.\n\nShe asks, \"Alice?\"\n\n\"Yes?\"\n\n\"Thank you.\"\n\n\"You're welcome.\"\n\n\"Alice?\"\n\n\"Yes?\"\n\n\"Can you tell me again what happened?\"\n\n\"Why don't I play the recording of what I told the police about what happened right after it happened?\"\n\nSince she didn't expect that response, Sharlene asks in surprise, \"You have that?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Can I hear it?\"\n\n\"Yes. The recording of my statement to the police is in two parts. The first part is when the police officer heard me tell your mother's doctor what happened and the second part is when the police officer formally took my statement. Are you ready?\" When she sees Sharlene nod her head, Alice turns on the recording.\n\n\"Recording.\"\n\n\"My partner and I were standing under the cover in front of the emergency room doors and saw the victim's family vehicle start to turn into the emergency room entrance. Then I saw a large farm vehicle cross the empty lanes and hit the driver's side of the victim's vehicle. We grabbed the crash cart and ran to the wreck. When I noticed how the farm vehicle was on top of most of the family vehicle, I guessed that if there were any survivors, they would be on the passenger side. I went around the back of the vehicles, because the front of the family vehicle was crushed against the corner of the parking garage. I was in front pulling the crash cart so I went to the front seat and left my partner to check the back seat.\n\n\"As soon as I arrived there, I saw a woman who appeared to be dead with a broken neck. I didn't find a pulse while I looked along the body for other apparent injuries, but I saw that the woman was pregnant and assumed she had been on the way to the hospital to be delivered. After my eyes passed over her abdomen, I thought I saw feeble movement from under the woman's night shirt between her legs and immediately grabbed my scissors and cut the night shirt. I saw the baby was partially expelled from the woman and yelled to my partner for a clamp. The movement I saw was probably the baby's arms. I clamped the umbilical cord, cut the cord, swatted the baby, and she started to cry. I yanked the sheet off of the crash cart, wrapped it around the baby, and ran back to the emergency room. You know the rest.\"\n\n\"End of record.\"\n\n\"Recording.\"\n\n\"As a witness of the vehicle wreck identified earlier on this recording, please state your name and occupation for the record.\"\n\n\"My name is Alice Bronson and I work for the quadrant Emergency Response Team as a paramedic and rescue vehicle driver.\"\n\n\"Are your licenses and qualifications current?\"\n\n\"Yes. They can be verified through the quadrant Personnel office.\"\n\n\"Earlier you said you first saw the victims' vehicle turning into the hospital emergency entrance.\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"How was the vehicle being driven?\"\n\n\"I saw the right turn signal flashing and the windshield wipers were working. The vehicle carefully turned the corner from the southbound street into the hospital's east emergency entrance driveway at a slow rate of speed and stayed within its lane. Even with the driving rain and gusting winds, the driver maintained control. I don't know what caught my attention, I assume the movement of the other vehicle in my peripheral vision, but I turned my head and saw the farm vehicle crossing the street diagonally at a high rate of speed in the opposite direction of the normal flow of traffic. I yelled something, I'm not sure what, and saw the farm vehicle hit the victim's vehicle across the front half of the side of the vehicle and shove it between the corner of the parking garage and the concrete support for a street light. The farm vehicle stopped when the front of it hit the parking garage while the wheels were halfway across the top of the victim's vehicle.\n\n\"I immediately ran to the back of my rescue vehicle, pulled out the crash cart, and ran to the wreck with my partner right behind me. I could see that because the farm vehicle was sitting on top of the family vehicle, I wouldn't be able to get to the driver. If there were any survivors, I guessed they would probably be on the passenger side of the family vehicle and I couldn't get there from the front, because the vehicle was crushed against the parking garage. As I started to run around behind the wreck, I almost ran into a patrol vehicle which was stopping. I went straight to the front passenger door of the victim's vehicle and found the female victim and the baby. The rest is just as I told you and the doctor earlier. You might check with hospital security since there are security video recorders on the parking garage and above the emergency room door.\"\n\n\"That's a good idea, thank you. Just to clarify, from the time you saw the accident until you left the scene to take the baby to the emergency room, how long was the wreck out of your sight?\"\n\n\"Less than thirty seconds. For us to run from the front of the rescue vehicle to the back, open the door, pull the crash cart out, and run back to the front of the rescue vehicle, that is a timed element of emergency response which we practice and my partner and I consistently do it in under thirty seconds.\"\n\n\"I can't think of any other questions for now. Thank you for your time, Ms. Bronson. If we need more information, what phone number can we reach you at?\"\n\n\"End of record.\"\n\n* * * * *\n\n2133-09-15 (a4)\n\nSharlene asks, \"Can you play them again, Alice?\"\n\n\"Are you sure?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Okay.\"\n\nAfter the recordings play a second time, Sharlene turns to Alice with a quizzical expression then says, \"I don't want to be rude, but you almost sound like a robot.\"\n\n\"That's part of keeping the sad feelings from hurting so much.\"\n\n\"Oh.\"\n\n\"Do you have any questions?\"\n\n\"After you took me to the emergency room, what happened to . . . my mother?\"\n\n\"My partner unhooked the seat belt and with the help of two other paramedics, he gently pulled your mother's body out of the vehicle, put her on the crash cart, and took her to the emergency room where the doctor examined her and officially pronounced her dead. She was then taken to the pathology lab where they did a more complete examination.\"\n\n\"Is the crash cart the narrow bed on wheels that goes in the back of the rescue vehicle?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"What about my father?\"\n\n\"Since the other paramedics couldn't get in from the driver's side, they came around to the passenger side and after your mother was removed from the vehicle, one of the paramedics crawled into the vehicle and was able to reach one of your father's hands and check for a pulse, but there wasn't one. He was dead, but they couldn't pull him out of the vehicle because it was crushed down on him.\"\n\nSharlene asks, \"How did they get him out?\"\n\n\"That took some time. Since they knew he was dead and they couldn't do anything for him, the paramedics stepped back and let the police conduct the on-site investigation. The police looked for evidence which showed the path of the vehicles to the moment of impact. They took many pictures of the vehicles from a lot of different angles. They searched the outside of the vehicles to see if there was any evidence of possible mechanical failure which occurred before the wreck and might have caused it. And they searched the inside of the vehicles for anything that might have suggested a cause for the wreck.\n\n\"When the police were done gathering the evidence they were able to, they had to call in a crane to lift the farm vehicle off of your father's vehicle and then they looked for any other evidence which might have been hidden. The fire department had to cut the top of your father's vehicle off with a special saw. The paramedics could then reach your father's body, but they couldn't pull him out because it was still trapped in the wreckage. The firemen had to carefully cut several more pieces off of the vehicle before your father's body could be removed. He was put on a crash cart, taken to the emergency room, pronounced dead by the doctor, and taken to the pathology lab for further examination.\"\n\n\"Was he badly crushed?\"\n\n\"Very badly.\"\n\n\"How did they know who he was?\"\n\nAlice takes a drink before she explains, \"One, it was his vehicle. Two, the woman in the vehicle, your mother, had already been identified as his wife from her documentation and from her doctor who recognized her. Three, when he was removed from the vehicle, your father's wallet with his identification was in his pants pocket. Four, they took his fingerprints which were a positive match. Five, your dad was able to positively recognize the unique ring which was on your father's hand.\"\n\n\"I didn't think of those things. So often you hear in the media that they recognize the face even through a disguise with fancy software or they use dental records.\" Sharlene thinks for a little while before she asks, \"What happened to the bodies of my mother and father?\"\n\n\"Do you know what a will or a living will is?\"\n\n\"I'm not sure what a living will is, but isn't a will a legal document that says what to do with what you own after you die?\"\n\n\"Yes. It also gives instructions for taking care of any children if the parents die. A living will is a legal document which says what to do if a person is very sick and can't talk about what they want to do. Either document can contain instructions as to what a person wants done with their body when they die. In the case of your parents, their living and regular wills said that any parts of their bodies which could be used to help someone else, should be taken and then the rest of their bodies were to be used for medical research and medical training of new doctors.\"\n\n\"Really? Wow. Alice, do you know what parts were used to help other people?\"\n\n\"No, and it really isn't any of my business to know.\"\n\n\"Oh. Yeah. That makes sense. So even though my parents were dead, they were still trying to help other people.\"\n\n\"That's right.\" She waits a little while before she asks, \"Sharlene, is there anything else you want to know? Or do you have any other questions?\"\n\n\"Yeah, you said it was a farm vehicle that killed my parents. What was a farm vehicle doing in the city and how was it able to go so fast? I thought farm vehicles went quite slow.\"\n\n\"Usually they do go slow, but the owner had fancied it up as a personal vehicle and had changed the gear ratio of the drive train so the power of the engine was converted to speed instead of strength to pull farm implements and heavy loads. What he was doing driving it in the city in the middle of the night, I don't know.\"\n\n\"You've given me a lot to think about, Alice.\" Sharlene hesitates then asks, \"If I think of something else, can we talk again?\"\n\n\"Of course. As you have questions, you can write them down and save them up for when we can get together again. Or, if you think the questions will have simple answers, you can call and we can talk on the phone, or you can email them to me. Whatever way is comfortable for you to deal with. If there are questions you have that I either can't answer or don't think it's my place to answer, I'll tell you and, if appropriate, I'll tell you who might be able to answer your questions. Okay?\"\n\n\"Thank you, Alice. I really appreciate you taking the time to talk with me.\"\n\n\"Hey, I enjoyed a free meal, a bunch of wonderful hugs, and had a good cry with a good friend. Maybe I got the better end of the deal.\"\n\nSharlene looks at Alice in surprise and asks, \"Friend? You think of me as your friend?\"\n\n\"Of course.\"\n\n\"But you're my mom's friend.\"\n\n\"Can't I be friends with both of you?\"\n\n\"But you're a lot older than me.\"\n\n\"Thanks, kid.\"\n\n\"I didn't mean it that way.\"\n\n\"I know, I'm teasing you, Sharlene. Think about it. What makes a person your friend?\"\n\n\"Um, somebody I like to be with, to talk to, to share experiences with, and to have fun with.\"\n\n\"So, what does age have to do with friendship? You like your grandparents, don't you?\"\n\n\"Of course.\"\n\n\"Well, they're even older than me.\"\n\nSharlene exclaims, \"But they're my grandparents.\"\n\n\"Could you like them even if they weren't your grandparents? Would they be fun to visit, to talk to, to bake cookies with, even if they weren't your grandparents?\"\n\n\"Uh, I never thought about it that way. Yeah, I would still like to be with them even if they weren't my grandparents.\"\n\n\"So, if they don't have the label 'grandparents', then they can have the label 'friends'. And if they can be your friends, even though they're so much older than me, why can't I be your friend?\"\n\nSharlene wraps her arms around her as she exclaims, \"Thank you, Alice. I think you've been my friend all along, haven't you?\"\n\n\"I would like to think so,\" as she immediately returns the hug.\n\nThey sit for awhile in companionable silence which gives Sharlene some time to think about what she's heard.\n\n\"Alice, there seems to be something missing from what I've heard from you and others.\"\n\n\"Oh?\"\n\n\"Yeah. What happened to the drunk driver of the farm vehicle?\"\n\n\"Let me ask you a question. Considering what you do know about the situation, what do you wish had happened to him?\"\n\n\"Well, . . . uh . . .\"\n\n\"Don't say what you think others want you to say. Don't say what you think is the right thing to say. Say what YOU, Sharlene, wish had happened to the driver of the farm vehicle.\"\n\n\"Um . . . I can really say what I wish?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Well, . . . I wish he were dead.\"\n\n\"Your wish is granted.\"\n\nSharlene looks at Alice in surprise then asks, \"Really? How? He was in a big farm vehicle and it was on top.\"\n\n\"Earlier today, you told the story about the two new boys in your martial arts class and how you defended yourself. Later, when you thought about them and the aches and pains they probably had, what did you think?\"\n\n\"They deserved what they got.\"\n\n\"Think about frontier movies you've seen. When somebody killed another person or even stole a horse, what happened to the criminal after he was caught?\"\n\n\"They hanged him.\"\n\n\"So, if we were living on the frontier, what would have happened to the guy who killed your parents?\"\n\nSharlene hesitates before she says, \"He would have been hanged.\"\n\n\"Let's go back to the three dimensional map board and put the vehicles into place. What isn't shown here is a series of steel poles which were sticking out from the parking garage that the hospital used to hang baskets of flowers on. And one of those poles was right here.\"\n\n\"He ran into a steel pole?\"\n\n\"Yep.\"\n\n\"Where?\"\n\n\"As they say in frontier movies, smack between the eyes,\" Alice points her finger at her own forehead.\n\nSharlene barely pauses before she says, \"Good. He deserved it. Since it was a pole to hang flowers from, I guess we could say he was hung after all.\"\n\n\"That's an example of the morbid humor we indulge in to reduce the stress of the job. If you want to be technical, he wasn't hung because he was still sitting on his vehicle seat.\"\n\n\"It's close enough for me.\"\n\n\"After the wreck was cleared away, I heard that somebody had suggested they cut the farm vehicle away from around the driver and leave him hanging with that pole through his head and put a sign on him saying, 'Penalty for drunk driving'.\"\n\n\"That would have been great.\"\n\n\"There would have been one problem with that, the top of the skull couldn't have supported the weight of the body.\"\n\n\"I didn't think about that.\" Sharlene thinks for a little while before she says, \"Now I can understand why Mom wouldn't have wanted to tell me all of that, even if she knew all of the details. And now that I know what happened to the driver of the farm vehicle, it puts the whole thing into a package. I guess there are probably other details, but I think I know what I want to know for now. Thank you so much, Alice.\"\n\n\"You're welcome.\"\n\n* * * * *\n\n2133-09-15 (a5)\n\n\"Sharlene, do you mind if I bring up a different subject?\"\n\n\"Of course not, Alice. What do you want to talk about?\"\n\n\"When your mom called to say you were interested in talking about the death of your mother and father, we talked awhile about several other things and one of the things she mentioned is that you'll be starting college soon.\"\n\nSharlene nods her head as she responds, \"Yes. I passed the high school equivalency exams and the college entrance exams.\"\n\n\"Congratulations.\"\n\n\"Thank you.\"\n\nAlice looks at her a little more closely and says, \"You don't sound real excited.\"\n\n\"Well, I'm ready to go on academically and I'm excited about learning new things, but I'm not sure about the other parts of college life. All of the other students will be physically adults and here I am still looking like a little girl. I mean, it'll be like my martial arts class and those two new boys all over again. How long do I have to keep proving myself? Why can't people take a little time to find out who I am, before they make assumptions about me based on my size or shape or whatever?\"\n\n\"I don't mean to throw a wet towel on you, but that's the way life is. As long as you live, most people will make assumptions about you without taking the time to find out the truth, even people who care about you. If you think about it, you make assumptions about other people, too. How many times have you assumed that because somebody was older or bigger, they were smarter or stronger than you?\"\n\nSharlene hesitates before she admits, \"Um, lots.\"\n\n\"When your coach called you to the front of the class to face those two boys, what did you assume?\"\n\n\"That they would beat me.\"\n\n\"Then why did you go up there?\"\n\n\"I trusted my coach that he wouldn't let me be hurt too badly.\"\n\n\"When you were done, did your coach look surprised?\"\n\nSharlene thinks for a few moments before she answers, \"No. He didn't look surprised.\"\n\n\"So he must have guessed at how it would turn out.\"\n\n\"Huh? . . . I guess he did.\"\n\n\"He gave you an opportunity to prove yourself.\" Alice pauses to let her think about that before she asks, \"Who benefited from that opportunity?\"\n\n\"I did.\"\n\n\"And I dare say that your classmates also benefited. You'll have to keep proving yourself over and over again. Your grandparents did, your parents did, I do. I know it's not fair and it can be very tiresome. Forget about having to prove yourself, that's a given, you can't do anything about it. Instead, remember those times when you were challenged to prove yourself, and you did something even you didn't think you could do, like in your martial arts class.\"\n\n\"You're right. I'm glad you want to talk with me. Mom can't get past the violence of the martial arts class.\"\n\nAlice takes a drink before she returns to the subject, \"Where will you be going to college?\"\n\n\"I was offered some nice scholarships from some big universities, but their huge size scares me and then I would have to share a room with an older stranger. It was just too many changes at once. Mom and Dad keep telling me to forget about the money aspect and pick some place to go where I can learn more without too many distractions to my education. So I decided to start at the local community college. The class sizes are smaller, they have good teachers, the campus isn't so big I can't walk across it, the classes often have a variety of ages attending instead of most of the other students being straight out of high school, and I can stay at home, so I don't have to worry about dorm life interfering with my education. Plus, it will give me two or three years to get used to the college environment and take a bunch of classes, before I need to choose a major and go on to the university environment.\"\n\n\"That sounds like a good plan. I look forward to following your progress. . . . I don't mean to sound harsh, but earlier when you asked how I helped you to be born, you seemed rather ignorant of birth and babies.\"\n\nSharlene assures her, \"It's not harsh, Alice, I am ignorant of the whole reproductive cycle. Or it seems that way because I think I understand the reproductive cycle of mammals and there are bound to be many similarities between mammals and humans. But it's like there's some key elements missing in my understanding of the human reproductive cycle which makes it a confused mess in my mind. When I've tried to talk to Mom about it, she avoided the subject like the plague and gave vague statements about telling me when I'm older or when my body starts to change.\n\n\"If my body is going to change, I would sure like to know about it ahead of time. It doesn't seem an appropriate subject to talk to Dad about, my Grandmas say Mom should tell me, and most other people don't think I'm ready to hear about it. Since I'm smaller than average, they think I'm younger than I really am. I've read a couple of books, but either I didn't understand it or there was something missing.\"\n\n\"I can understand your frustration. I also feel the social stigma that such knowledge should be shared with you by a female family member, preferably your mother. Part of the reason for this is that while there can be variations of experience from one woman to another, what happens to the mother is often what happens to the daughter. That makes it difficult for you because your biological mother isn't here to tell you. If she did tell anyone the most likely candidate would be your mom. Your aunt Paula isn't going to like it, but this might be something else you can talk to her about, at least to start. Your mother might have told her, I don't know. If Paula is unwilling or unable to answer your questions, let me know, and I'll take you to a doctor who specializes in mothers and babies. Doctor . . . how stupid can I be?\"\n\n\"What, Alice?\"\n\n\"Here's the plan. Talk to your aunt Paula. Even if she can answer all of your questions, I'll take you to see the doctor afterwards. She would love to meet you.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"Doctor Chang was your mother's doctor and your mother probably told her about how her body changed, and she was there the day you were born.\"\n\n\"Really? How come I never heard of her? Did she know my mother well?\"\n\n\"Slow down, Sharlene. I don't know why you never heard of her, probably because the family didn't need her services any longer and didn't want to be reminded of your mother and father's deaths. Frankly, I'm surprised they've so warmly accepted me since I'm an obvious reminder. And I don't know how well she knew your mother. She had and still has a lot of patients and it's been a lot of years, so even if she knew your mother well, she may not remember much.\"\n\n\"Would it be better to see the doctor first?\"\n\nAlice shakes her head as she answers, \"No, she's real busy and hard to get an appointment with. She'll also insist on going through the family connection first. She's somewhat traditional in that way, which is a good thing. She wants to encourage families to talk more openly about body changes instead of in whispers where knowledge is often forgotten because one person in the chain is too embarrassed to talk about it. Let me know when you're going to be able to talk to your aunt and I'll see if I can set up an appointment with the doctor for a week or so later. Forewarning, the doctor will probably want to check you over and examine your body and ask you some personal questions to make sure your body is working right.\"\n\n\"Okay. Thank you.\"\n\n\"It's been my pleasure. . . . Do you want to keep the recordings and the map boards?\"\n\nSharlene asks in surprise, \"You mean I can have them?\"\n\n\"I saved them for you. I don't want you to dwell on it and to have bad dreams about what happened, but it's a big part of your history, even if you don't remember it. Or I can keep them longer until you feel ready to have them in your possession.\"\n\n\"Um, maybe you'd better keep them for now, Alice, if you don't mind. I think I need to find out more about how my body might change and start thinking about going to college and I really don't need something else sitting around which might distract me.\"\n\nAlice nods her head as she responds, \"That's probably a wise choice and I don't mind keeping them. I keep it all in a box at home and any time you want to take the time to go over any of the other details, just let me know.\"\n\n\"What else do you have?\"\n\n\"Copies of the police report, copies of the pictures the police took . . .\"\n\n\"Ugh, I don't want to see those.\"\n\n\"I didn't think you would want to, at least not yet. I also have copies of the video which was taken by the hospital security video recorders, the testimony of the other witnesses, the transcripts from the court cases, and copies of news broadcasts about the wreck.\"\n\nSharlene asks in surprise, \"Court cases?\"\n\n\"Yes. You might ask your dad about those. He was more involved in them than I was.\"\n\n\"You collected and saved all of that stuff for me? Why?\"\n\n\"Because I figured you would want to know what happened. Your parents were too emotionally involved to think of everything and I knew who to talk to in order to get copies of the information.\"\n\n\"You didn't have to do anything to get the stuff, did you?\"\n\nAlice shakes her head and answers, \"No. It's just that most people don't know they're able to legally get it and the agencies involved tend to put roadblocks in the way of people getting information, probably because they're afraid people will second guess what the officials did and tie up the courts even more.\"\n\n\"Oh. I think I understand. I'm sure glad you did gather it all. It answered a lot of questions I hadn't even thought about yet. Thank you, Alice,\" Sharlene gives her another big hug.\n\n\"Do you have any more questions or things you want to talk about or bad jokes you want to tell?\"\n\nSharlene hesitates then asks, \"Have you heard about the lipard which had green stripes?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Neither have I.\"\n\n\"Ugh. That is a bad joke. If you don't have anything else to talk about, I'll get out of your hair. Thank you for the meal. I loved your story about the martial arts class. And thank you for giving me hope and for letting me be reminded of the good that comes from my job. This time it's my turn to start the hug,\" and she does.\n\n\"Thank you very much, Alice. You filled a hole I knew was there, but didn't have the words to describe it.\"\n\n\"You're welcome. Remember, just let me know whenever you want to talk again. See you later, kiddo.\"\n\n\"Thank you. Bye.\"\n\n* * * * *\n\n2133-09-31 (a1)\n\nSharlene pokes her head into Robert's home office and asks, \"Dad, can I talk to you?\"\n\n\"Sure, sweetheart. What do you want to talk about?\"\n\n\"You and Mom keep telling me not to think about the money aspect of college and that has me confused. I know how much college can cost and I hear quite a few kids in my extra-curricular classes talk about how their parents complain about the cost of college, yet they seem to have more money than we do because they always have fancy new vehicles, the latest fashionable clothes, the newest electronic gadgets, bigger homes, and so on.\"\n\nRobert chuckles then suggests, \"Sit down, Sharlene, this might take a little while. Just because a person has money, doesn't mean they have to spend it all. Why should I have a fancy new vehicle when my old vehicle gets me to where I need to go? I'll bet the parents of those kids you heard from, have a lot of debt because they bought their possessions using borrowed money from a bank. And when they use borrowed money, they have to pay for the item plus pay interest to borrow the money.\"\n\n\"I hadn't thought about it from that perspective. I know about the cost of interest. When I took that basic accounting class, I was surprised to learn that the cost of borrowing money always outweighed the benefit of saving money. The only time a person could gain money above the cost of borrowing it, was when they invested in some high risk speculation, although most people end up losing money doing that and sometimes they lose an awful lot.\"\n\n\"That's right. I make enough money that we could have a lot of those things which other people have. Will possessing all of those things make us better people? I don't think so. More often, those things are something more to maintain or to clean. When people see something new, they figure their current possession is out of date so they go buy the new one. Typically, there wasn't anything wrong with the old item and instead of continuing to use it or even give it to a charity so a poorer person can make use of the item, it gets thrown away, overloads our garbage system, and doesn't reuse any of the resources which went into producing the product in the first place. So instead of buying a lot of things which we don't need, or paying for a fancy version when a plain version will do, the money we don't use to maintain our comfortable lifestyle, I save. Is there anything you feel we should have bought you to make your life more comfortable or more happy?\"\n\nSharlene shakes her head then answers, \"Not that I can think of. Whenever I said I wanted something, we talked about it to be sure I knew whether I really wanted it for myself or if it was just something the other kids had. When I decided I wanted something and could give you a reason which was more than just wanting it, you guys got it for me. Even when I started to take piano lessons and I needed one to practice on. . . . Now I get it. You could have gotten me a grand piano, but said I would have to keep it clean, so I settled on an upright piano, especially when it was pointed out that someday when I moved, I would have to find a place for it.\"\n\nRobert nods his head as he responds, \"That's right. Is it harder to practice on an upright instead of on a grand piano?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Or is the sound any different on an upright instead of a grand?\"\n\n\"Not at my level of playing. If I played really well and was to give a concert, then the sound difference might be noticeable, but not just for practicing.\"\n\n\"Do you remember the price difference between the two types of piano?\"\n\nSharlene briefly thinks before she shakes her head, \"Not exactly, but I think the upright was less than a quarter of the cost of the grand.\"\n\n\"So, we could have spent four times as much money on the grand piano, but what benefit would you have gained?\"\n\n\"None. So instead of buying things which would give us no benefit, you've been saving the money. I assume you've saved enough so I don't need to worry about college expenses, regardless of what scholarships I'm offered, and without cutting into whatever else you might be saving for or have set aside for emergencies.\"\n\n\"Yes, that's part of it.\"\n\n\"What do you mean 'part of it'?\"\n\nRobert rubs his hands together and chuckles, \"Oh, boy, this is going to be fun.\"\n\n\"Dad? What are you talking about?\"\n\n\"Sharlene, you have your own money.\"\n\n\"I have a few hundred credits in the bank which I assume I'll need for incidental expenses in college.\"\n\n\"I'm not talking about that, you have your own money, but legally you can't access it yet.\"\n\n\"What? Where? How much?\"\n\n\"Let me start by saying that we could have easily purchased a grand piano, but to encourage you to think of the obligations, such as cleaning it, and the benefits, practicing just as well on an upright, provided you with a valuable lesson. Do you miss having a grand piano?\"\n\nSharlene shakes her head as she answers, \"No. It might be impressive to look at, but the cost difference between an upright and a grand is a lot of money for something to look at.\"\n\n\"Good. That's the idea we wanted to get across to you. Every purchase can be approached in the same way. For common things you buy, you make a benefit decision once and continue to buy that item until you find new information which may change a part of the benefit decision. For things you seldom buy or only buy once, the benefit decision will have a greater impact.\n\n\"To go back to the subject of your money, it's in trust accounts which your mom and I, as your legal guardians and adoptive parents, control until you reach your majority status. The money is there to support you and provide for you until you're on your own. If the courts thought we were misusing the money, we would be in big trouble. I assure you, the courts have nothing to suspect us of. Even if they did, they would find we haven't misused the money. Actually, we've only touched that money once and shortly paid it back with interest at the current rate, and that was to move here.\"\n\n\"But if that money is to support and provide for me, you should have been using it. I've seen enough information to know that raising a child is expensive.\"\n\nRobert nods his head as he responds, \"That's true, but when we adopted you as our own child, we felt it was our responsibility to provide for you as our own child. It's been a big comfort to know that the money is there if something goes wrong, but so far, I've been able to provide for us quite comfortably.\"\n\n\"So, Dad, where did the money come from, if not from you?\"\n\n\"It came from four sources.\"\n\n\"Four?\"\n\n\"Yep. Shortly after your mother and father were married, they set up a college fund for any children they might have and contributed to it quite heavily. They had talked about having two children and researched what college cost then. Their goal was to set aside twice the amount of money needed for both undergraduate and graduate programs at the most expensive school, as well as living expenses while going to college, for both children because they knew the inflation of college costs would rise faster than the interest in any savings account. Before you were born, they had met about one-quarter of their goal which has continued to grow from interest earned. Any funds which are not spent for college related expenses and living expenses while you go to college, are to be turned over to you when you reach your majority status. That's the first source.\"\n\nSharlene looks at him with wide eyes then exclaims, \"Wow, no wonder you said not to worry about college expenses. Since there will only be one person accessing the fund, the money will go even further.\"\n\n\"You could easily afford to go for a doctoral degree if that's what you want.\"\n\n\"Even if I can afford to go to any school, I think I'll have a better educational experience if I start at the community college.\"\n\nRobert nods his head as he responds, \"That's a good benefit decision.\"\n\n\"Huh? Oh, yeah. I didn't think of it that way, but it is a good example.\"\n\n\"A very good one.\"\n\n\"Uh, I don't want to sound greedy, but you've made me curious. You said that was the first source, so that means there are three more.\"\n\n\"Well, I'm glad to know you've learned to add and subtract before you go to college.\"\n\n\"Dad!!\"\n\n\"I don't want you to get complacent without my teasing, Sharlene. Anyway, the second source is from two substantial life insurance policies which your mother and father purchased so if something happened to one of them, the other would have financial support and if both of them died at or near the same time, the funds would be used to support any children they had. Do you know what a will is?\"\n\n\"Isn't it a legal document that says what to do with a person's possessions when they die?\"\n\n\"That's right and that's the third source. Both your mother and father had a will which said if one died, all of their possessions went to the other person and if they both died, the funds were to be used to support any children they had. Both of them were earning very good wages and they lived a rather frugal lifestyle. They both did a lot of traveling for the company, so they didn't have a lot of time to entertain or socialize, nor did they have the inclination to do so. They didn't have a lot of possessions. They saved a lot of their earnings and made some very good investments because they wanted to retire from work early and travel when you were old enough to go with them. Their wills also designated your mom and I to be the primary guardians of their children.\"\n\nSharlene hesitates before she asks, \"I don't want anything to happen to you or Mom, but since we're talking about it, I assume you have a will?\"\n\n\"Yes. If something happens to one of us, everything goes to the other. If something happens to both of us, we've named your aunt Paula as your primary guardian and my parents as your secondary guardians. The same applies to these funds we're talking about.\"\n\n\"If my math hasn't failed me, that leaves one more fund to talk about.\"\n\nRobert grins then says, \"Smart girl. I understand you talked to Alice about what happened to your mother and father.\"\n\n\"Yes, but what's that got to do with the fourth source of funds?\"\n\n\"Hold on, Sharlene, I'm getting there. Did Alice say what happened to the driver of the vehicle who killed your mother and father?\"\n\n\"Just that he was 'hanged'.\"\n\n\"Yes, Alice would put it that way.\"\n\n\"Actually, Dad, Alice may have pointed the way from old frontier movies, but I'm the one who said it.\"\n\nRobert looks at her in surprise before he responds, \"Really? How interesting. Did she say anything else about him?\"\n\n\"Only what Mom had said, that he was drunk while he was driving. While we're talking, Alice did say I should ask you about court cases, but I don't know how the subjects are related.\"\n\n\"They're related. Let's go back to the night of the wreck. When the driver was removed from his farm vehicle, the doctors checked him for other injuries besides the obvious and found that his blood alcohol content was above the level for criminal liability. The police put together their evidence and took the driver to criminal court. Actually, they took the driver's estate to court since he was already dead.\"\n\nSharlene looks at him in surprise then asks, \"Why did they do that? He couldn't be punished anymore.\"\n\n\"True, but his estate could still be held liable for the costs which were incurred by the quadrant Emergency Response Team to clean up the mess the driver left behind. The police, firemen, paramedics, and hospital staff spent a lot of time and supplies, to investigate the wreck, to remove and examine the victims, to separate and remove the vehicles, and to restore the scene to what it was before the wreck.\"\n\n\"I thought taxes covered those services.\"\n\n\"They do. In the past, if the driver had lived, he would have just got a ticket and had to pay a small fine. Now, if he had lived, he would have to pay for the consequences of his actions and nothing makes that as clear as a substantial hit to the pocketbook. So the quadrant uses those reimbursement funds to buy extra supplies and equipment, improve vehicle maintenance, increase training, etcetera. Since the driver in question died, his estate was then held responsible. It used to be that the most a drunk driver could be charged with when they killed somebody, was involuntary manslaughter and they often served little or no jail time and received little negative impact to their personal finances. Too often, it was found that drunk drivers were repeat offenders.\n\n\"It took a long time before the laws were changed to recognize that a person knew they were getting drunk and knew they were driving, so that means driving drunk is premeditated and when they kill someone, the charge is first degree murder which carries the death penalty. No more of the nonsense of life in prison. If a criminal is such a menace to society that they're going to be in prison for the rest of their life, then why should the people's taxes go to the government to support the criminal and pay for them to live? The problem was so bad in the past, that some poor people would commit a crime so they could go to jail and improve their living conditions.\"\n\n* * * * *\n\n2133-09-31 (a2)\n\nRobert shakes his head they says, \"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to go off on a tangent. Anyway, the quadrant took the farm vehicle driver's estate to criminal court and charged the driver with two counts of first degree murder, reckless driving, driving while intoxicated, running a red light, driving on the wrong side of the road, and resisting arrest. Apparently, the driver had been pulled over by the police before the wreck, but had driven away before he could be formally arrested for drunk driving. At first, the lawyers for the driver's estate tried to deny everything, but when they saw the evidence - the testimony of the witnesses, the statements of the involved officers, the clear footage from the hospital's security video recorders, even footage from the drinking establishment's security video recorders, with date and time stamp just minutes before the time of the wreck showing the driver stumbling to his vehicle, getting in, and driving off - they pled guilty to all charges. The quadrant handed them the bill for their services and they promptly paid.\n\n\"Once the criminal case was over, the family sued the estate of the driver on your behalf for an amount based on the projected lost salary of your mother and father until your majority status, plus an equivalent punitive amount because the suspect had been guilty of drunk driving before and his family hadn't prevented him from driving intoxicated, and to cover all court and legal fees. Although the estate lawyers tried several counter offers which grew as the scheduled court date drew nearer, the family held firm on the basis of the strong evidence and the guilty plea in criminal court. Finally, the estate lawyers settled out of court for the requested amount. I think part of it was that the driver was from a prominent local family and they didn't want the negative publicity of a public jury trial or the increased costs which would have resulted from an extended public trial. When they paid, the money was set up in a trust account to provide for your care and support. Just like the other funds, if there's any money remaining after your needs have been provided for, they'll be turned over to your control when you reach majority status.\"\n\nSharlene asks, \"How could they determine when my majority status would occur?\"\n\n\"Do you know what majority status is?\"\n\n\"It's when a person is considered a full adult member of society and legally able to vote, drive, sign contracts, get married, be a politician, drink alcohol, smoke, and, uh, other things.\"\n\n\"How is majority status determined?\"\n\n\"I'm not positive, something about having a job and getting an education. That part was kind of glossed over in what I read.\"\n\nRobert explains, \"There are two parts to the determination that a person has reached majority status. The first part is that the person has completed vocational or professional training or has natural talents which has enabled them to be offered employment which is sufficient for them to support themselves independently. The second part is to pass a competency examination to demonstrate a person's ability to function as an adult member of society.\"\n\nSharlene thinks for a moment then asks, \"Since that's going to be at a somewhat different age for each person, how could anybody determine ahead of time when I would gain my majority status?\"\n\n\"There's a provision in the law which gives a default age of twenty five for when a person has reached majority status, assuming they pass the test. Based on that provision, the courts have decided that in cases similar to yours, the determination of financial awards is based on achieving majority status at age twenty five, whether you're actually that old or not when you achieve majority status.\n\n\"Before we go further, Sharlene, I want to make something clear. I've told you all of this because I think you're mature enough to handle the knowledge and to treat the funds your mother and father provided for you with respect. If I didn't think you were mature enough, I would have let you believe we had saved the money for your college and not told you about those other funds. Actually, your mom and I have saved enough to send you to college without touching your college or your other funds, just not quite enough to send you to the most expensive college.\"\n\n\"Dad, I think you ought to keep your savings for you and Mom. I would want you to have a safety margin for yourselves and not just for me. Use my college fund for my expenses. That's what my mother and father wanted. From what you've said, my college fund is big enough to pay for the best education I can get. With a good education, I should be able to get a good enough job to reach majority status which would open up those other funds if something goes wrong or if I need something to fall back on. If you keep your savings for you and Mom, maybe you can retire early like my mother and father wanted to.\"\n\n\"Sharlene, I'm so proud of you. I know it bothers you that most people see you as though you're younger than you are. But when I talk with you, you seem so much older than you are. I know you've impressed both Alice and Paula with your levelheadedness, your practicality, and your maturity.\"\n\n\"Thank you, Dad,\" she gives him a hug, \"I wouldn't be who I am without you and Mom to raise me right.\"\n\n\"I think there's more to you that our raising of you, because I see so much of your mother and father in you.\"\n\n\"I wish I had known them.\"\n\n\"I wish they could have known you.\"\n\nSharlene pauses before she asks, \"Dad, I know that you and Mom were appointed my guardians based on my mother and father's wills, so when did you adopt me and why?\"\n\n\"We adopted you several months after the court case was over. Life was pretty confusing at the time and the legal process of adopting you would have only added to the confusion, so we waited for awhile. As to why, that was somewhat selfish on our part. When adults adopt a child, the government sticks their nose into the adopting family's affairs, but once the adoption is complete, the child is considered the same as a natural born child, so the government leaves the family alone, unless there's strong evidence of abuse. If we had remained just your guardians, the government would be sticking their nose into our affairs all of the time, since they think they have a better understanding of your needs. It would have also been more difficult for us to home school you, or move to a different locale if we wanted to. We would also have to get the government's approval every time you visited your grandparents. Besides, we considered you to be our daughter, so it was also the right thing for us to adopt you.\"\n\n\"I didn't realize it was so involved.\" Sharlene tightly hugs him as she tells him, \"Thank you for adopting me, Dad. So, where do we go from here?\"\n\n\"You go to college and get a good education and we encourage and support you. Or I stuff you in a closet, feed you only bread and water, take all of your money, and go be a beach bum on a tropical island. No, your mom wouldn't like a tropical island. We'd better stick to the first plan.\"\n\n\"You can be pretty silly at times. How can you feed me only bread and water and be on a tropical island at the same time?\"\n\nRobert looks at her in disbelief then asks, \"You mean they don't have closets on tropical islands? Then I'll just have to stick to the science fiction teleportation method.\"\n\n\"Okay, Dad. You've made me curious. I have a college fund which will cover my expenses for about as long as I want to go to college.\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Then there's the fund from the substantial, as you put it, life insurance policies and the fund from my mother and father's estate. I'm getting the feeling that I'm in for a big shock. On top of that is the fund from the court case which is based on twenty five years of the projected salary of my mother and father. I . . . I assume the funds are in interest bearing accounts.\"\n\n\"Of course.\"\n\nSharlene hesitates before she asks, \"Um, . . . Dad, . . . just how much . . . are we talking about?\"\n\n\"Well, I haven't looked at the figures for a few months. The company investment managers keep a close eye on the funds, but since your mom and I aren't accessing them, I review the funds with the investment managers every five months or so. Maybe I should take you with me the next time I review the accounts. That's a good idea, why didn't I think of that earlier. Oh, well, live and learn.\"\n\n\"Dad, you're stalling.\"\n\nRobert looks at her in mock surprise and asks, \"Me? Stalling? I'm just trying to build up the suspense to make it more exciting and all of that. Besides, I have to wait for the drummer to get off of his union mandated coffee break. Ah, here he comes now. Drum roll, please. What do you mean, what kind of drum roll? I want a snare drum and no cymbal until the end. No, I don't want a bass drum. And put those bongo drums away, we're not in the tropics. Kettle? What do I want with kettle drums? They're too much like 'doom, doom, doom'. What, do you think this is a jail sentence? This is a happy occasion. I'm trying to tell my favorite daughter how much money she has stashed away. You've been rather uncooperative, why should she share any with you? Yes, just a boring old traditional snare drum roll with the cymbal at the end. And put some enthusiasm into it. Ah, that's better. Sharlene, the sum total of your funds, not counting your college fund, is approximately . . . cymbal . . . twenty million credits.\"\n\nSharlene's eyes go wide in shocked surprise and it takes her several moments before she's able to stammer, \"You said . . . (gulp) . . . twenty . . . MILLION . . . credits?\n\n\"That's what I said. The drummer says that's what he heard.\"\n\n\"Twenty . . . million?\"\n\n\"After you finish your education and reach your majority status, you could be a comfortable beach bum for the rest of your life.\"\n\nSharlene stares at him before she blurts out, \"Beach bum? Why would I want to be a beach bum? After Mother and Father sacrificed so much and then died. And you and Mom have sacrificed and not used the money which was available to you. A beach bum?!\"\n\n\"Well, if you're not going to dream small, I guess you'll just have to dream big.\"\n\n\"Twenty million? I've never heard of so much money.\"\n\n\"Sure you have, the government's budget is several gazillion. What's twenty million among friends?\"\n\n\"You're doing it again, Dad.\"\n\nRobert again looks at her in surprise, \"What am I doing again?\" He turns his head to the wall and asks, \"Do you know what she's talking about?\" He turns back to Sharlene and reports, \"The drummer doesn't know what you're talking about either.\"\n\n\"You're trying to distract me to reduce the shock.\"\n\n\"Me? Distract you? Is it working?\"\n\n\"Yes, Daddy,\" Sharlene hops onto his upper legs and gives him a big hug, \"it's working.\"\n\n* * * * *\n\n2133-09-31 (a3)\n\nAfter several minutes of quiet companionship and a little chit-chat, without the drummer, Sharlene turns serious and asks, \"Dad?\"\n\n\"Yes?\"\n\n\"Um, is my body going to change?\"\n\nRobert hesitates before he answers, \"Yes.\"\n\n\"Do you know how it will change?\"\n\n\"I have a good idea without understanding all of the medical details. But it's really not a subject which is appropriate for a man to talk about with his daughter.\"\n\nSharlene protests, \"But Mom refuses to talk about it. She keeps putting me off and tells me to wait until it happens. I'm afraid she won't really tell me then. I would like to know what's going to happen before it does and I end up in a situation which could have been avoided with a little prior knowledge.\"\n\n\"Have you tried talking to your grandmothers?\"\n\n\"Grandma Lucy seems to find the subject distasteful. I think I would get lost in all of the 'um's and 'ah's. Grandma Running Deer said she would tell me, but not until after Mom gave her permission and Mom won't do that. I think Mom's afraid Grandma will tell me a lot more than she thinks I ought to know.\"\n\n\"You're probably right about that. The only other adult female in the family is your aunt Paula.\"\n\nSharlene nods her head as she responds, \"That's who Alice suggested, although she thought Aunt Paula wouldn't like her for suggesting it.\"\n\n\"Paula's bark is worse than her bite, but don't tell her I said that. Yes, she would know that her sister wouldn't want to talk about it until after the fact, and probably not then. She would also agree that you need to be told ahead of time. Did Alice suggest anything else?\"\n\n\"She thought that after I talked to Aunt Paula, I should talk to the doctor who was my mother's doctor.\"\n\nRobert pauses a moment in thought then says, \"Ah, yes, Doctor . . . what was her name . . . Doctor Chang. I'm sorry, I'd forgotten all about her. Your mother thought very highly of her. Thank you, Alice, that's a very good idea. . . . Something else just occurred to me. If Doctor Chang can give you some indication of when your body change might occur, maybe we can arrange for you to visit your grandma Running Deer for a couple of weeks so you can participate in the female coming of age ceremony.\"\n\n\"What's a coming of age ceremony?\"\n\n\"It's kind of like receiving your majority status. In many Western and African cultures, it's when a girl becomes a woman and is considered to be a full adult member of that culture. Depending on the individual culture, there are several days of celebration, instruction, or secret rituals. I've heard that in some of the Asian Sector cultures there's something similar, though less involved. In the European Sector, there's no ceremony and almost as much instruction. As your Grandpa Hienrik would say in his rich Deutsche accent, 'Achtung, yesterday you boy, today you man. Go to vurk.'.\"\n\nSharlene looks at him in surprise then asks, \"He said that?\"\n\nRobert chuckles they says, \"Oh, yes. Your father and I, about the time we reached puberty, spent some time with our uncle Running Bear to prepare for the male coming of age ceremony. For several weeks after we came home, first thing in the morning, Dad would march into our bedroom and announce that. Of course, since your father was older than me, I laughed myself silly when it happened to him.\n\n\"When it was my turn, I thought the joke must have been played out. But, no, that first morning, here comes Dad who proclaims, 'Achtung, Robert, yesterday you boy, today you man. Go to vurk.' Of course, your father laughed himself silly at my expense. And then to make matters worse, after about a week, Dad turned the responsibility for the morning wakeup call over to your father, so it was my own brother telling me to get up and 'go to vurk'. At the time, I thought the best thing about the whole situation was they stopped calling me 'Bobby,' which I never did like, and started calling me Robert.\"\n\n\"Wow. I can almost hear Grandpa Hienrik say that. If I go through the coming of age ceremony with Grandma Running Deer, will you wake me up with 'go to vurk'?\"\n\n\"No, I'll think of something worse,\" and he proceeds to tickle her.\n\nSharlene gasps out, \"Enough . . . Daddy . . . enough.\" After a couple of minutes to catch her breath she asks, \"So, Dad, how are you going to sneak me off to see Aunt Paula?\"\n\n\"Why should we have to sneak you? Just tell your mom that before you get wrapped up in college, you want to spend a week or so with your aunt and your grandparents, I'll pipe in that it's a good idea and the next thing you know, you'll be on your way.\"\n\n\"Do you think it'll be that easy?\"\n\nRobert nods his head as he answers, \"Sure. You don't have to tell your mom what you want to talk about on your visits. If you go to Paula's first, and if she's willing to tell you, then you can tell your grandma Running Deer who will probably be willing to answer any questions you might have and to tell you about the coming of age ceremony. Then you can go to your other grandparents and enjoy your visit on the farm.\"\n\n\"Thanks, Dad. That's a good plan. And thank you for telling me about the money. Twenty million credits? I can't believe it.\n\n\"Believe it. It probably will be a good idea to take you with me when I go for my next review with the investment managers.\"\n\nSharlene considers that then says, \"I suppose I really ought to try to forget about it since I can't do anything with it. And twenty five years old seems like a long ways away. Oh, well. When do you think I should ask Mom about those visits?\"\n\n\"Whenever you think she might be in a receptive mood.\"\n\n\"That's a good point. Thanks Dad, I really appreciate it,\" she gives him a big hug.\n\n\"Anytime, sweetheart.\"\n\n* * * * *\n\n2133-10-28 (a1)\n\nWhile she sits in the waiting room at the doctor's office, it takes Sharlene a moment to realize that she's the one who is being called, \"Ms. Schmidt? The doctor will see you now.\"\n\nThey're guided to the doctor's office rather than to an examination room where the doctor stands up and says, \"Alice, it's so good to see you again.\"\n\n\"Hello, Doc. I'd like to introduce Sharlene Schmidt. Sharlene, this is Doctor Chang.\"\n\n\"How do you do, Sharlene?\"\n\n\"Very well, Doctor Chang. It's a pleasure to meet you.\"\n\n\"Let's sit over here,\" she directs them to a comfortable sofa in the corner of her office. A couple of moments later, she asks, \"Sharlene Schmidt, why does your name ring a bell? You're not old enough to be one of my patients.\"\n\n\"Doc, I'm afraid that's my fault. I worked with Karoline to get a long appointment as the last one of your day when you didn't have anything scheduled afterwards.\"\n\n\"Alice, what's going on? And whose patient chart is that in your hand, Karoline?\"\n\nAlice answers, \"I asked Karoline to pull it out of the archives. You see, Sharlene was your patient. Or should I say her mother was your patient. About thirteen and a half years ago, in the middle of a dark and stormy night.\"\n\n\"Soo-Lin? You're Soo-Lin's little girl?\" Doctor Chang looks at her in surprise then when she sees the shy nod, she says, \"Oh, come here.\" Doctor Chang wraps her arms around Sharlene and begins to cry. In a moment, Karoline slips in and joins the hug huddle and there isn't a dry eye in the room for several minutes.\n\nWhile she still holds onto Sharlene, Doctor Chang says, \"Alice, thank you so much, and Karoline, thank you for helping Alice.\"\n\nKaroline replies, \"I liked Soo-Lin too.\"\n\n\"I know. Soo-Lin was such a wonderful likable person.\" She holds Sharlene at arm's length, but doesn't let loose then says, \"Let me look at you. Yes, I can see the resemblance. Your skin is darker, but it looks very good on you.\" As she pulls Sharlene back into an embrace, she proclaims, \"Oh Soo-Lin, she was more of a friend than a patient. She would be so happy to see you now. . . . Oh, my, here I am getting all emotional and a perfect stranger to you.\"\n\nSharlene responds, \"It's okay, Doctor, I like hugs too. You can't be a stranger if Alice knows you.\"\n\n\"So much like your mother. Soo-Lin was always ready with a hug, wasn't she, Karoline?\"\n\n\"And about the best hugs I've ever had they were so warm and loving. And with her beautiful smile, I didn't know whether to schedule her appointments in the morning to brighten up the day or in the afternoon to make a hectic day all seem worthwhile.\"\n\nDoctor Chang shakes her head then says, \"Soo-Lin. After all of these years. If I remember right, your father's brother and his wife were appointed as your guardians.\"\n\nSharlene responds, \"Yes. A few months after I was born, they adopted me. I think they've been a good mom and dad to me.\"\n\n\"I'm so glad to hear that. If you don't mind, tell me a little about yourself.\"\n\n\"I think I was about five when I understood I was adopted and shortly after that we moved here. I don't know why, but I seem to remember some sort of problem before that. Since then, we've lived here. I'm going to school at home and taking a lot of extra-curricular classes. When I was younger, it was ballet and gymnastics. Now I'm taking tai-chi, piano, and martial arts. I also volunteer at the library to help people read, some of them are younger and some are older. A couple of weeks ago, my grandparents taught me the basics of archery and handgun safety. After the New Year holiday, I'll start going to the local community college. That's my life in a nutshell.\"\n\n\"That's very nicely condensed. Alice, do you know where Sha-Lin, I mean Sharlene, was before they moved here?\"\n\n\"Shortly after the court case was settled following the wreck, Robert and Sarah moved with Sharlene to the European Sector.\"\n\n\"I can almost guess what the problem was.\"\n\n\"Actually, Doc, it was more interesting than that.\"\n\nSharlene asks, \"Alice, what was it? I don't remember Mom or Dad saying anything.\"\n\n\"I think they figured that since it happened in the past and didn't affect you, what was the point of telling.\"\n\n\"Can you tell me?\"\n\n\"Do you have time, Doc?\"\n\n\"Yes. I'll like to know also.\"\n\nAlice asks, \"Sharlene, what do you know about the European Sector?\"\n\n\"Most of the people there have light colored skin. I've read a little history which stated that some people there don't like people with different colored skin, but that didn't make any sense to me. People are people, what does skin color have to do with anything?\"\n\nDoctor Chang nods her head as she says, \"That's such a simple truth, yet so many adults don't understand it.\"\n\n\"You're right, Doc. Sharlene, I know it doesn't make any sense to you, but to some people, the color of your skin is very important. And if a person of one skin color marries a person of another skin color, some people consider that very bad. Some of the strongest feelings that way seem to be in some of the churches in the European Sector.\"\n\n\"I remember going to church with Mom and there was a song I called the color song about the children of the world being red and yellow, black and white. When I asked the teacher what the colors meant, she said they refer to the people from the different sectors. . . . Is that why we had to leave? Did I cause my parents to leave?\"\n\nAlice shakes her head as she assures her, \"No, Sharlene, you didn't cause them to move. You were the catalyst who opened their eyes to the problems which were already there. Go ahead and tell Doc and Karoline what you remember.\"\n\n\"Well, when the teacher told me what the colors in the song meant, I thought it was a special song for me. Later, we were given a line drawing to color which showed our grandparents, our parents, and ourselves. I had to draw extra people to represent Mom and Dad. So I colored Grandpa Hienrik black, Grandma Running Deer red, Grandma Sha-Lin yellow and Grandpa I-don't-know-his-name white. Then I colored my father David half black and half red and my mother Soo-Lin half yellow and half white. I colored my dad Robert half black and half red because he and my father were brothers and I colored my mom Sarah white. Then I colored myself brown.\"\n\n\"Beautiful, absolutely beautiful.\" Doctor Chang hugs Sharlene who is sitting next to her on the sofa.\n\nAlice continues the story, \"A few days after that, some church elders visited Sarah to talk about that drawing. She showed them a chart which she and Sharlene had made with photographs of her parents and grandparents.\"\n\nSharlene asks, \"You mean that one I have hanging on my wall?\"\n\n\"That's the one. And Sarah pointed out that Sharlene's drawing was accurate within society's characterizations of skin color. When Robert walked into the room to ask them if there was a problem, Sarah introduced him as her husband. He asked if the elders were going to punish Sharlene for what her grandparents and parents had done. They said they wouldn't put it so harshly. Robert said that if they didn't want Sharlene or him to attend their church because they were prejudiced against people with different colored skin, that was fine with him, but they ought to be honest about it and say so. Then he politely escorted them out of the house.\"\n\n\"Dad said all of that?\"\n\n\"Yes, he did, Sharlene, and your mom confirmed the story. Shortly after that, you guys moved back here.\"\n\nSharlene notices the grins of appreciation for the story on the other women and asks, \"You mean some people really think that skin color matters?\" After she sees them nod their nods, \"Then what about when a light skinned person gets a dark tan?\"\n\nThe women burst into laughter and Doctor Chang hugs Sharlene even tighter.\n\nA couple of minutes later, when composure has been somewhat achieved, Doctor Chang slightly relaxes her tight hug and says, \"Sharlene, I'm sorry you don't understand the joke, but at the same time, I'm glad you don't understand why it's such a joke.\"\n\n\"Is it one of those situations which is so sad, you have to laugh about it to avoid being depressed?\"\n\nDoctor Chang gives her a look of surprise and exclaims, \"Very well put, young lady.\"\n\nAlice adds to the explanation, \"Sharlene, this is similar to what we talked about a few weeks ago in regards to you having to prove yourself. It's not just your size, age, or gender, but people will also prejudge you based on your skin color.\"\n\n\"I haven't laughed and cried so much in a long time. Thank you, Sharlene. So like your mother, bringing joy wherever she went, but so much your own person.\" Doctor Chang briefly pauses before she says, \"I would like to modify Alice's advice, don't try to prove yourself because then you'll be trying to meet the expectations of others. Just be yourself and set the example. Let others strive to rise to your level, don't lower yourself to their level.\"\n\n\"Thanks, Doc, you're right, that's a more positive direction.\"\n\n\"You really mean, just be me?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" in stereo, from Doctor Chang and Alice.\n\n\"Go ahead, Doc.\"\n\n\"You can't change your skin color or the shape of your eyes, so take pride in them. You seem to be pretty smart and have a warm personality. Let those positive elements shine forth and some people will ignore whatever they see which might cause them to be prejudiced. For those people who exhibit prejudices, ignore them until they can overcome their prejudices. There are too many people in this world who are worth knowing for you to waste your time to cater to the prejudices of society's thugs. Your mother was very good at being herself. She never compromised her principles or tried to cover up or deny who she was. It was obvious she was a woman, she was small, she was from the Asian Sector, she had an accent, any or all of which could have marked her for failure in many aspects of your father's company, because of the prejudices of some of their clients and customers. Yet, Soo-Lin was a huge success with her intelligence, warm smile, polite greeting, and ability to get the job done.\n\n\"I don't know how many times when your mother was in for an examination and your father was with her that he would shake his head and say, 'Doctor Chang, she did it again. We were having difficult negotiations with so and so when Soo-Lin walked into the room. Immediately, they demanded that Soo-Lin, usually with derogatory slurs, be removed from the room. Within ten minutes, they were smiling and shortly afterwards we had a contract signed. When I asked what changed their minds, they said that Soo-Lin reminded them of a special younger sister, or a beloved daughter, or their petite mother.' I had many of my patients at the time tell me how Soo-Lin had cheered them up with her warm smile and polite greeting.\"\n\nWith a glance at Karoline and a nod in return, Doctor Chang continues, \"A few weeks before Soo-Lin became my patient, we had a young man who did deliveries around the building. He was very prejudiced about many things, females, skin color, accents, disabilities, and who knows what else. His behavior was very offensive to the staff and to patients and there was talk about circulating a petition to have him removed. One day, as Soo-Lin was coming into the building, she was just ahead of the man and with a slight bow, she opened the door for him. He was startled, but went through the door and made his rounds. When he got to the office here, he was curt with Karoline who didn't have the outgoing packages ready because it was a busy day. Soo-Lin stepped up to him with a sad warm smile, gently touched his arm, and after a glance at his name tag she said, 'Daniel, be patient.' He gave her a rather nasty look, but stayed where he was.\n\n\"When Karoline started to give him the outgoing packages, Soo-Lin took them with a big smile and said, 'Thank you, Karoline.' Karoline responded with a slight curtsy, 'You're welcome, Soo-Lin.' Soo-Lin turned and said with a big smile, 'Here are the packages you came to pick up, Daniel. Wasn't it wonderful for Karoline to get them all ready for you?' He looked at your mother like she was a three headed alien from outer space. He put the packages away and turned to make his next delivery and Soo-Lin said with warmth and sincerity, 'Daniel, have a good day.'\n\n\"Whenever your mother saw him, she would greet him with a warm smile and a sincere, 'How are you?' After a number of weeks, he would stop and say how he was and it usually wasn't very nice. Soo-Lin would tell him that things would get better, or have you tried this or that, or that he was intelligent and ought to go to college. By this time, the building gossip was running while they wondered what happened to the delivery boy because he was being courteous and not offensive. One day, Soo-Lin invited him to eat with her during his lunch break. The result of that lunch is that he went to work for your father's company and went to night school for college with money your mother set aside for him. Karoline, do you want tell the rest?\"\n\n\"Yes, ma'am. It was hard for him to work and go to school, but he would remember Soo-Lin and try harder. He stopped seeing his drinking friends and his family disowned him. After awhile, he started coming around to see me. When he finished college, he received a promotion at work and asked me to marry him. He's had a real struggle, but he always remembers Soo-Lin as the lady who saved his life.\"\n\nSharlene steps over to Karoline, gives her a hug, and says, \"Thank you, Karoline, for telling me about my mother. I'm glad she was able to help Daniel.\"\n\n* * * * *\n\n2133-10-28 (a2)\n\nAs she sits back down, Sharlene leans over and gives Doctor Chang a hug as she says, \"Thank you, Doctor, you've helped me to know my mother better.\"\n\n\"Hey, don't I get a hug?\"\n\n\"Of course, Alice,\" Sharlene leans the other way with a hug as she tells her, \"without you, I wouldn't be here. Thank you.\"\n\n\"This has been such a wonderful surprise. I assume that was not the only reason for your visit.\"\n\n\"No, Doc, but it was definitely a part of my plan. Go ahead, Sharlene.\"\n\n\"Well, I've heard about the time when a female's body changes. As of a few weeks ago, Mom kept putting me off by telling me to wait until it happens. I've been afraid she won't tell me even then. I want to know what's going to happen before it does and I end up in a situation which could have been avoided with a little prior knowledge. One grandmother was almost as nervous about the subject as Mom. My other grandmother would tell me, but not without permission from Mom. I'm pretty familiar with the reproductive cycle of animals, but it doesn't cover the body changes of a human female. I'd read some books on the subject, but either I was missing something or there was something missing in the explanation, because it didn't make sense. At the suggestion of Alice and my dad, I went to talk to my aunt Paula who is my mom's sister.\n\n\"She wasn't happy with the burden, but she told me probably more than I would ever want to know. What Aunt Paula couldn't tell me was what my mother's experience was. I understand that what happens to the mother often happens to the daughter. Then I talked to my grandmother who was willing to talk and she answered the questions I hadn't thought to ask my aunt. She told me that when it is closer to the time for my body to change to let her know and she'll guide me through her Western culture's coming of age ceremony. I would like to know if you know what my mother's experience was, whether my body is progressing properly, and have a little more of a clinical explanation of a female's body changes either through conversation or with a thorough textbook.\"\n\nWith her eyebrows raised in surprise, Doctor Chang pauses before she answers, \"Young lady, I'm impressed. I don't often meet a young woman who has tried to do her research and been persistent in asking questions to find out what's going to happen before it does. One piece of disappointment for you is that I won't be able to examine you to see if your body is progressing properly without your parents' approval.\"\n\n\"Oh, I forgot. Here's written permission from my dad, my insurance card, and my medical history form. Alice received it from Karoline and passed it on to me.\"\n\nDoctor Chang looks at them and asks, \"A real conspiracy, eh, ladies?\"\n\nAlice nods her head as she answers, \"Guilty as charged, Doc. Just to reassure you, I talked to Sharlene a few days ago about what her aunt and grandmother told her about female body changes. I'm almost embarrassed to admit that I learned a few things from the conversation.\"\n\n\"Really? Sharlene, it sounds like you've had some good teachers. I'm a bit envious of your opportunity to participate in a coming of age ceremony. If you're willing, and with your grandmother's permission, I would love to hear about it. In regards to your mother's experience, I'm sorry I don't specifically remember since that was a few years ago. Ah, Soo-Lin's chart. Thank you, Karoline. Why does that not surprise me? Something keeps nagging at me. Sharlene, what did you say your adopted mom's name is?\"\n\n\"Sarah Schmidt.\"\n\n\"Why does that name ring a bell? Was she a patient, Karoline?\"\n\n\"No, ma'am.\"\n\n\"Sharlene, did your mom get along with your mother?\"\n\n\"I was told there were like sisters.\"\n\n\"Sarah Schmidt? . . . Oh!!\" Doctor Chang's eyes and mouth pop open and her hand covers her mouth.\n\nAlice quickly speaks up, \"Doc, she hasn't been told. Sharlene, remember what I told you about events related to the wreck which I wasn't at liberty to tell you?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Doc knows about them. Did you ask your aunt?\"\n\n\"Yes. She said I wasn't ready to hear about it yet. She was upset you had said anything, but seemed to understand when I said how you stressed not to ask Mom about it.\"\n\nAlice explains, \"I don't like to withhold information from you. Considering how much your aunt told you about how a female body changes, she doesn't like to withhold information either. If she won't tell you about events related to the wreck, then she has a very good reason not to tell you. Neither I nor Doctor Chang will betray that confidence and tell you something your family won't tell you. I'll go out on a limb this far and say that if and when your family does tell you, you'll strongly wish they never had, and you'll probably regret ever wanting to know. If you possibly can, forget it. Doc?\"\n\n\"Sharlene, I have to completely agree with Alice's advice. You've demonstrated that you can be persistent, and I congratulate you on your persistence to learn about female body changes. If you were to pursue this other matter, your persistence could be a curse to you and to those around you.\"\n\n\"Alice, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to push.\"\n\nShe pulls Sharlene into a hug as she assures her, \"I know. This is one case where you need to let those who love you, protect you from the bogeyman.\"\n\n\"I know. Thank you.\"\n\n\"I hope you told your aunt something similar.\"\n\n\"I did.\"\n\n\"Good for you,\" and she kisses Sharlene's forehead.\n\nDoctor Chang returns to the subject, \"From what Soo-Lin recorded in her medical history, she remembers her body change at somewhere around age fourteen or fifteen. From the notes I recorded in talking to her, she didn't have any real issue with it. Apparently, her mother told her a lot about what was going to happen physically and she was well prepared for it. Soo-Lin didn't remember any personality changes, either towards depression or excitement. Based on what's recorded in Soo-Lin's chart, and assuming that your body will respond like hers did, you're probably going to be lucky and have a fairly smooth sail through puberty. Do you know anything about the females on your father's side of the family?\"\n\n\"For the past two generations, there's only one female and that's Grandma Running Deer.\"\n\n\"Running Deer. What a wonderful name. I assume she's your grandmother who will take you through the coming of age ceremony.\"\n\n\"Yes. When I talked to her, she said that when her body charged, her, um, breasts were a little sore when they grew. She didn't think I would have much trouble with that because my mother was, um, small there.\"\n\n\"Did she say anything else or mention any personality or depression issues?\"\n\nSharlene pauses before she answers, \"She said that everything was fairly easy for her along those lines.\"\n\nDoctor Chang looks at her for a moment longer before she says, \"Something seems to be bothering you. What is it? You can talk freely here. I doubt if you can surprise any of us.\"\n\nShe hesitates a little longer before she responds, \"Well, my grandma's family is real down-to-earth, some would say they're a little crude. They've been very kind, loving, and supportive towards me and have taught me a lot. However, they tend to say what they think, regardless of who's around, especially my grandma's brother. He's been very good to me and loves me like his own grandchildren, but sometimes he tries to shock me. For some reason, he seems offended at the lily-whiteness and political correctness of my mom's family. In contrast, my mom has taught me to be real careful with what I say so I don't offend anyone.\"\n\n\"I wish people weren't as worried about being offended or offending, but speak their minds. Sometimes it's almost refreshing to hear down-to-earth from-the-gut speech and to know that the person is saying what they believe.\"\n\nSharlene pauses a little more before she explains to Doctor Chang, \"Well, when I talked to my aunt, she mentioned that some females experience personality or emotional changes when their body changes. She mentioned depression, excitement, fear, lust, violence, and sadness as some of the more common emotional changes. She also said that some women go from being social to unsociable or tidy to sloppy or vice versa, or that psychological disorders such as schizophrenia or bipolar can manifest themselves at that time.\n\n\"When I asked my grandma if she had experienced anything along those lines or out of the ordinary, she said she didn't remember directly and didn't remember any complaints from her parents about her behavior. Then she yelled at her brother who was in the next room, 'Hey, Running Bear, when I started my flow and went through puberty, did you notice any change in my behavior?' There was a pause, then he yelled back, 'You were a bitch before and a bitch after, how could I see any difference?'.\"\n\nWhen the laughter diminishes, Doctor Chang says, \"I can see why you say they're down-to-earth and that he tried to shock you. I think I'll read between the lines and say your grandmother didn't experience any significant behavior issues. I'll make a note of that when I start your chart.\" She takes the chart from the outstretched hand and asks, \"Anticipating me again, Karoline? Or is this another element of the conspiracy?\"\n\nKaroline smiles as she answers, \"I'm just trying to be helpful, ma'am.\"\n\n\"Well, I guess the next step will be to do an examination. Sharlene, do you have any questions about what's going to happen?\"\n\n\"No. Both my aunt and my grandma were quite specific about what happened during the examination and Alice confirmed what they told me. They were both glad I was going to see a woman doctor although they were somewhat surprised I was seeing an obstetrician until I said that you were my mother's doctor. They also suggested that I ask you about a recommendation to a regular gynecologist so I don't take up a slot for another patient until I need the services of an obstetrician.\"\n\n\"Alice, are you sure this is Sharlene? You haven't disguised a twenty five year old on me, have you?\"\n\nShe grins as she answers, \"No, Doc. This is Sharlene.\"\n\nDoctor Chang turns to Karoline and asks, \"And I suppose an exam room is ready?\"\n\n\"Yes, ma'am, room four.\"\n\n\"Okay, Karoline. Get Sharlene ready and I'll be there shortly.\"\n\nAfter they leave the room and close the door, Doctor Chang throws her arms around Alice and says, \"Thank you so much for bringing her. Except for the skin tone, that could have been Soo-Lin sitting there.\"\n\n\"You're welcome, Doc. I'm sorry I never had the chance to meet her mother.\"\n\n\"You've been able to keep in touch with them?\"\n\nAlice nods her head and answers, \"Yes. Except for when they were in the European Sector, I've been able to visit a few times a year. The last couple months the visits have been a little more frequent once Sharlene decided she wanted to know how her mother and father died.\"\n\n\"How did that go?\"\n\n\"Quite well. She had a good cry when it hit her that her biological parents were real people instead of story book characters, as she put it, when the family talked.\"\n\n\"Have you seen anything which might indicate she had been harmed in the wreck?\"\n\n\"You saw her, Doc. She's a bit mature for her age, but so would a lot of other girls if they grew up in the positive environment that she's had.\"\n\nDoctor Chang hesitates before she asks, \"You're positive that it's Sharlene and her mom didn't adopt another child as a substitute?\"\n\n\"Give me a little credit, Doc. After they returned from the European Sector, I acquired a good set of finger prints and a hair sample. Both the prints and the DNA matched perfectly.\"\n\n\"That's a relief. I was so worried when Sarah lost her baby that she might do something to Soo-Lin's baby.\"\n\n\"Doc, you can relax. I've seen no indication that Sarah, in any way, blames Sharlene. Sharlene is a definite reminder and Sarah is often melancholy which seems to increase as she sees her little girl showing signs of growing up. Sarah's been a good mom. If she didn't have that pain in her soul and sadness in her heart, she would be a great mom. I just hope the family can keep it a secret forever, or at least until Sharlene has fully grown up and is strongly self-confident. She's doing very well for her age, but if she found out now, it's possible she would feel completely guilty and let it gnaw at her until it destroyed her.\"\n\n\"Well, let's go examine her. In spite of her knowledge about what's going to happen, it's always nice to have a familiar face in the room.\"\n\nAlice grins as she says, \"I can tell her I saw her when she was born, and I see her now and the only thing I can see different is her hair is longer.\"\n\n\"She might not like that.\"\n\n\"She'll know I'm teasing.\"\n\"Okay. Here we are.\"\n\n* * * * *\n\n2134-10-27 (m1)\n\nNow that her classes are over after her first year at the community college, Sharlene looks into Robert's home office and asks, \"Dad?\"\n\n\"Yes, sweetheart?\"\n\n\"Do you have some time to talk?\"\n\n\"Can you give me five minutes to finish up here?\"\n\n\"Sure.\"\n\n\"I could use some more tea.\"\n\n\"I'll put a pot on. What kind do you want?\"\n\n\"How about the spiced black tea?\n\n\"Consider it done.\"\n\nA few minutes later, Robert takes the cup from Sharlene and says, \"Thanks for the tea. What do you want to talk about?\"\n\n\"Business.\"\n\n\"Yeech. Business? You don't want to talk about my drummer friend? Or the new warp drive engine I built in the basement last weekend. Or how high I flew my kite the weekend before that? Business? Why business?\"\n\nSharlene grins at his teasing then explains, \"Through most of my reading of history over the years, the impression was that politicians and generals made and changed the course of history. The last few months, my college professors and textbooks have been encouraging us to look behind the scenes and try to discover what motivated those politicians and generals to make and change history. In most cases, it was an economic factor or some business entity which 'encouraged' the politicians and generals to do what they did. Further research often showed that what drove the economic factor or business entity was some rumor either of problems or profits.\n\n\"I was amazed at how often a political entity would send an army or a fleet to invade a basically peaceful group of people because it was rumored there was a valuable resource there. When the valuable resource wasn't found, the natives were accused of lying or hiding the resource. Then the invading force would kill or enslave the natives and settle in to rule and use that place as a stepping stone to chase the next rumor. Or they would destroy the crops, strip the land of whatever resources they could easily find and depart which left the survivors destitute.\n\n\"In my economics class, we studied the stock market and each student had a handful of companies to investigate. A simplified, but typical scenario was that a company would produce say a thousand widgets a day and ship them to stores for people to buy. One day people would buy 995 widgets, the next day people would buy 1,005 widgets, so that over time the widgets produced equaled the widgets sold. Then the company would publish its semi-annual financial statements with a one percent loss during the first five months and maybe a one and a half percent gain at the end of the next five months. Then we looked at the stock market history of that company for those same time periods and found that from day to day the stock value for that company gained or lost as much as ten percent in one day. There was no correlation between what the company was actually doing and what the stock market so-called valuation of the company was doing.\n\n\"Then there was the rumor factor. If there was a suspected scandal brewing in one company, its stock started to go down, then the stock of every company in that industry started to go down, then the stock of every company in the political entity of the first company went down, then the stock of every industry related to the first industry diminished and before you know it, there's a panic. Yet that first company was still producing a thousand widgets and people were buying a thousand widgets.\n\n\"Then the investors would tell the company executives to reduce costs to increase profits in order to offset the deflated stock values, so the company would lay off employees which reduced production. When the employees were laid off, they couldn't afford to buy widgets, so fewer widgets were sold, which caused further reductions in production which required more layoffs. The next thing you know, the company is out of business, a lot of people are out of work, the executives scratch their heads while they wonder what happened, then they take their big salaries and even bigger bonuses, start a new company, and do it all over again.\n\n\"As we were researching the stock market and those companies, the professors and guest speakers kept telling us that stock investors, financial advisors, and corporate executives are all highly rational, methodical people who review all available information before they make a decision. Several of the other students and I looked at each other, looked at the data, looked at the professors and said, at least to ourselves, who do you think you're kidding? We were told over and over that economists understand the market and its dynamics. Yet whenever there was a bubble, dip, or crash in the stock market, it was always, 'oops, we didn't see that one coming'. And I thought my philosophy class was a bunch of mumbo jumbo nonsense on stilts. . . . I'm sorry, Dad. I didn't mean to go off on a rant. I appreciate you listening to me and letting me get that off of my chest.\"\n\n\"Wow, kiddo,\" Robert glances under the table then 'reports', \"I thought for a moment there that you had blown my socks off. Actually, I had very similar thoughts when I went to college and frankly, I haven't seen anything to change my mind. Your grandfather had similar thoughts and he earned a doctorate in economics.\"\n\n\"I don't know had he could have stayed in the field that long. I would have killed somebody or gone stark raving mad. I didn't really want to talk about business or economics in general. It just got me to thinking that I know you and Grandpa have a business, but I had never had much of an interest in it and I don't know much of anything about it. So I figured it was time to find out what the family business is all about.\"\n\n\"Well, Sharlene, that's quite an introduction to the age old question of, 'Dad, what do you do at work?'.\"\n\n\"Probably. Anyway, I would like to know how the company was started, what the philosophy or guiding principle is, basically how it operates, and how it survives in the volatile fluctuation of the stock market. Or do you have company brochures, documents, or advertising which covers those subjects?\"\n\n\"Humm, how about I give you a personal overview, then I can give you some documents to review at your leisure, then you can come back and we can talk some more and answer any questions. Did you want to take notes?\"\n\n\"That approach sounds good, but do you mind if I record it?\"\n\n\"You can record it, if you agree to not share it with anyone unless I specifically give you permission. There will be some things I'll tell you which aren't appropriate for public awareness.\"\n\nSharlene nods her head as she says, \"I agree.\"\n\nRobert takes a drink of tea before he starts, \"Okay. First of all, the name of the company is Community Consulting and Construction. The consulting and construction part is what we do. The community part of the name is from the idea of working in the local community of any quadrant with the hope of encouraging and enhancing the communication and community of all quadrants. For how the company came into being, I'm going to go back a ways in history to set the stage. Several decades ago, there was a megalomaniac who riled up a lot of people in the European Sector with visions of global conquest. At first, people in the other sectors thought he was just another cracked pot.\n\n\"It wasn't long before his followers started growing exponentially and soon had political control of some of the central quadrants of the European Sector. They revved up their military supplies production and in a short time had troops along their borders facing the weaker quadrants. The other sectors joined forces into a coalition to protect the weaker quadrants. The war was bloody but brief and was greatly shortened when some of the more reasonable European leaders arrested the megalomaniac and his top henchmen, tried them, and executed them for treason. The coalition stationed a few highly visible troops in those European quadrants to say, 'don't let it happen again'. The coalition also sent in some construction people to help rebuild the destroyed infrastructure in the affected quadrants.\n\n\"Since there were few opportunities for work in his rural African sector community, a young man who liked to build things, named Thomas Schmidt, joined the Coalition Construction Corps and was sent to the Deutsche Quadrant in the European Sector. He started as a common laborer and worked his way up to operating the heavy machinery. When he made several suggestions which resulted in better quality construction at lower costs, his managers sponsored his education. After he graduated from college with a degree in construction management, he returned to the Deutsche Quadrant with his bride, Martha, whom he met in college.\n\n\"Thomas's first job as a construction manager was to rebuild a school. When the project was completed on time and below budget, he was given a bigger project to manage. Each project he managed was completed on time and below budget. Part of the key to his success was that he hired local people to do the work and local firms to provide the supplies which made him very popular with the local community. It wasn't long before he started making positive suggestions for improving the design during the project and then he worked with the architects to improve the design before the project began.\n\n\"Shortly after Thomas's first project was completed, Martha gave birth to a son. Both Thomas and Martha enjoyed a good sense of humor and since they were living and working in the Deutsche Quadrant and already had a surname of Schmidt, they gave their son the very Deutsche name of Hienrik. As he grew up, Hienrik was often sent to the local Deutsche school and learned to speak the language like a native. At first, there was some concern that young Hienrik might face some discrimination, but it was soon clear that he was such a novelty in the local school as well as a friendly cheerful child, that he quickly became the most popular kid.\n\n\"Between Hienrik's popularity, his father's reputation, and his mother's humble cheerfulness and volunteer activities, the family was made very welcome. When the family traveled outside of the local community for vacation or shopping, Thomas would ask Hienrik, by name, to order the meal in a restaurant and when people turned with pleased smiles to watch young Hienrik order, Thomas enjoyed seeing the shocked looks on their faces when they realized that Hienrik wasn't a blond hair blue eyed Deutsche, even if he was wearing lederhosen.\n\n\"After a few years, the Coalition post-war reconstruction was complete and the Coalition Construction Corps was disbanded. Thomas's family said a sad farewell to their many friends in the Deutsche Quadrant and moved back to the African Sector near to where Thomas and Martha's families lived. It was somewhat of a culture shock for young Hienrik to go from being a popular novelty in school to just being another kid. Although he had learned Swahili from his parents, he didn't use it daily so he was understandable, but not fluent. In a few short months with the support of his parents and newly met multitude of relatives, Hienrik soon fit in and was making many new friends. For a couple of years, Thomas did some consulting with construction firms in his quadrant which were building high-tech state-of-the-art architectural showpieces. The construction firms were pleased with his work, but his heart wasn't in it.\n\n\"Then Thomas received a call from someone who requested that he oversee the construction of a hospital in an economically depressed area in a nearby quadrant. After he talked to the quadrant government officials who were funding the project, reviewed the architectural plans, and checked with the local suppliers, Thomas made a number of suggested changes. When the changes were agreed to, he took to the project with all of his heart and completed it to the satisfaction of almost everybody. You can't always please everyone and in this case it was somebody who ran an employment agency for construction workers which wasn't much better than slave labor. When that person threatened Thomas's family, word got out, the quadrant officials investigated, shut down the employment agency, and jailed the owner as well as the local officials who he had been bribing.\n\n\"Within a few short years, Thomas was traveling the world as he consulted on or oversaw public construction projects. As a teenager, Hienrik would often accompany his dad and was soon adding valuable suggestions of his own. At first, Martha would go along to keep them company, but it wasn't long before she was working with the local women in setting up school rooms and medical clinics. At her suggestion, Thomas would purchase decorative handicrafts made by the local women to add to the construction project. Soon, Martha was running a consignment business where she would buy local handicrafts and sell them to boutiques and tourist shops. She avoided middlemen as much as possible, took no salary, and any proceeds above costs were returned to the producer. The living standards of many women increased since they were able to work from home while they raised their children.\n\n\"With his experience on his dad's construction projects, Hienrik easily earned a civil engineering degree in college, then worked with his dad, this time on salary, for a couple of years on various public projects. Since he had closely observed how both his dad and mom would try to improve the living conditions of people who lived near the project his dad was working on, Hienrik wondered how he could improve the financial lives of the disadvantaged on a larger scale. He decided more education was needed and went to a top university in this sector where he worked on a doctorate in economics. As a graduate student, one of his assignments was to teach one class each term to undergraduate students.\n\n\"During one term he was able to teach a class called 'The Economics of the Disadvantaged'. While the subject was important to him, he found most of the materials to be inconsistent with what he had observed, but assumed he just wasn't seeing the big picture or all of the angles. Within the first week of teaching the class, he realized it was what students referred to as a 'junk class'. The students took it because they figured it would be easy, or they needed an economics credit, or the class they wanted was full. By the end of the second week, it became clear to him that he was teaching the class to one student in the back who paid attention and appeared to take notes, but since the lights were directed onto the podium and dimmed in the room and considering the variety of cultures who were attending the school, Hienrik wasn't sure if the student was even male or female. He thought what was considered then the 'modern' educational approach of a student signing into class at the door with their identification card and sitting in a lowly lit room left something to be desired.\"\n\n* * * * *\n\n2134-10-27 (m2)\n\nAfter he takes a drink of tea, Robert tells what happened as though he has stepped into the past:\n\nAt the end of the fourth week of the class, as he is putting his materials away, Hienrik hears a soft voice in front of him, \"Why teach crap when not trust?\"\n\nAs he looks up, he sees a striking woman with medium brown skin and long black hair wearing a dark tan shirt with a matching calf length skirt and both of them are decorated with what looks like many tiny beads. When he can find his voice, Hienrik asks, \"I'm sorry, could you repeat that?\"\n\n\"Everyone deaf here?\"\n\n\"I heard you, I just wasn't sure I understood you.\"\n\n\"Why you teach fecal matter you not believe?\"\n\n\"That's about what I thought you said.\" As he looks down to finish putting his materials away, Hienrik notices that her shoes have no heels and match the color of her skirt. As he stands up, he notices that she's almost as tall as he is. He hesitates then asks, \"Would you care to join me for lunch and we can discuss it?\"\n\n\"O-kay.\"\n\nAs they start to walk towards the cafeteria, he realizes she must be his mystery student, and that, yes, she must be from one of the cultures in the Western Sector which he had seen in documentaries, but had never knowingly met someone from there. In an attempt to start the conversation, he introduces himself, \"My name is Hienrik Schmidt.\"\n\n\"I know, on class guide. Deutsche name,\" she looks him up and down then tells him, \"you not look Deutsche.\"\n\nHe chuckles then explains, \"No, my parents are from the African Sector, but my dad worked for the Coalition Construction Corps in the Deutsche Quadrant and I was born and lived there for several years. My dad thought it was a big joke to give me a Deutsche name.\"\n\n\"Your dad, he builder?\"\n\n\"Yes, he's a construction manager.\"\n\n\"Good job. I build when done here.\"\n\n\"What's your major?\"\n\n\"Civil engineering.\"\n\n\"That was my undergraduate degree.\"\n\nShe stops and looks at him in surprise.\n\nHienrik walks a couple of paces before he realizes she has stopped so he turns around.\n\n\"You go from civil engineering to e-co-no-mics? Why?\"\n\n\"My dad tries to help the disadvantaged while he oversees construction of local infrastructure such as schools, hospitals, roads, energy facilities, and so forth. I wanted to try to help the disadvantaged financially on a larger scale and thought economics might provide some means to achieve that.\"\n\n\"Why help disadvantaged? No profit.\"\n\nHienrik points to his chest as he explains, \"The profit is here. I've been to many parts of the world with my dad and his work and I've seen people living in squalor, their house a cardboard box, with no clean water, no medical facilities, and no education. Yet a few hundred feet away, the local bigwig sits in a twenty room mansion with servants, fancy vehicles, and all of the luxuries of life, and feeds his guard dogs more in a day than the people down the street will see in a week.\"\n\nThey continue their walk towards the cafeteria as she asks him, \"So, e-co-no-mics give answer?\"\n\n\"No, I haven't found any answers in economics. In fact, I'm beginning to think that economics is a part of the problem. Technically, economics is the study of the development of material wealth from the individual to the largest corporation or political entity. In practice, economics only looks at the top end of the scale. Essentially, how to make the rich richer. One of the major areas of economics is the study of the stock market. Yet the stock market is so out of touch with reality, it might as well be on a different planet. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get on my soapbox.\"\n\nAs they get their food, she says, \"No be sorry. Soapbox good with passion and truth.\" They look for a table, then she points and asks, \"My brother, we eat with?\"\n\n\"Sure,\" Hienrik replies while he feels a little jealous at having to share her company.\n\n\"Hey, Sis, what kept you?\"\n\n\"Talk with teacher, e-co-no-mics.\"\n\n\"Not again. Why do you keep pulling that dumb savage, no want to speak in forked tongue routine?\"\n\n\"It helps to keep the jerks away. I think Herr Hienrik Schmidt here is real.\"\n\nHe's astounded as he realizes she spoke his name as a native Deutsche would say it and he can't seem to stop himself from just staring at her. He turns as he realizes her brother is speaking to him, \"Herr Schmidt, I must apologize for my sister's behavior, although she's right that if the jerks assume she can't understand the language, they can't talk her into lifting her skirt for them, so they go away. My name is Running Bear Lakota. As you might have guessed, we're from the Western Sector. I must say, I've never met someone from the Deutsche Quadrant who looks like you.\"\n\nHienrik takes a moment to answer, \"My parents are from the African Sector, but my dad was with the Coalition Construction Corps in Deutsche where I was born and he thought it would be a big joke to give me a Deutsche name.\"\n\n\"I think I would like your dad. Well, if she followed her usual routine, she didn't tell you her name.\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Herr Schmidt, my I introduce my sister, Running Deer Lakota.\"\n\nShe holds out her hand and says, \"Guten Tag, Herr Schmidt.\"\n\nAs he shakes her hand, Hienrik woodenly replies, \"Guten Tag, sprechen Sie Deutsche?\"\n\n\"Yahvohl.\"\n\nRunning Bear speaks up, \"That and about seven or eight other languages. My sister has a real gift for languages and is such a natural mimic of animals you would think she was talking to them. Just don't sit next to her when there's a full moon out or you'll start believing in werewolves when she decides to howl like a wolf. Damn, gotta run to my next class. It was nice to meet you, Hienrik. See you around.\"\n\n\"It was nice to meet you, Running Bear.\" In the silence which follows, Hienrik turns back to Running Deer and asks, \"Is your brother always like that?\"\n\n\"Yeah, they should have named him Running Off At The Mouth. When he was born, he was chubby like a bear cub and very quiet. All through childhood, he hardly spoke. After puberty, it was like he tried to make up for lost time and the family hasn't been able to shut him up since.\"\n\n\"Running Deer, that's a pretty name.\"\n\n\"Thank you.\"\n\n\"I have a cousin back in the African Sector, whose name means 'Running Gazelle' in Swahili. I don't mean to intrude, but you seem more mature than the usual student.\"\n\n\"You mean older?\"\n\nHienrik shakes his head as he clarifies, \"Since I've never knowingly met someone from the Western Sector, I have no means of judging age. I meant more mature.\"\n\n\"Thank you.\"\n\nAfter he pauses to eat some of his meal, Hienrik asks her, \"What led you to take up civil engineering?\"\n\n\"As a teenager, I was interested in our cultural traditions which were fast disappearing as many leaders sought to match the secular business approach of the other sectors. So I traveled around the northern plains area of the Western Sector and talked to every elder, shaman, and tribal grandparent I could find, in order to record as many customs, legends, traditions, and stories as they remembered. While I was traveling, I also made note of the prevalent poverty and the failing infrastructure everywhere I went. The local government would see a need for something and accept the absolute lowest bid, which often resulted in supplies and construction techniques which barely met minimum standards. In a few years, the structure would collapse, or be in imminent danger of doing so because there wasn't any money to maintain it or to replace it. I decided I wanted to try to do something about it. I passed the high school equivalency exam, went to the local community college, won some scholarships, and here I am.\"\n\nHienrik takes a sip of his drink before he responds, \"That's an excellent reason to go into civil engineering, and it explains your interest in 'The Economics of the Disadvantaged'.\"\n\nRunning Deer nods her head and simply agrees, \"Yes.\"\n\n\"Changing the subject, where did you learn Deutsche?\"\n\n\"A couple of summers ago, I took an independent study audio course, but I don't find many opportunities to practice.\"\n\n\"Your pronunciation is superb. If I had closed my eyes when you spoke, I would have thought we were sitting down to a meal of bratwurst and beer, instead of whatever this is,\" he lifts his spoon and lets the contents dribble back into his bowl. They both start to laugh.\n\nRobert returns his attention to the present and summarizes, \"And so began the storybook romance of Running Deer Lakota and Hienrik Schmidt. Hand me a tissue, I think I'm going to cry.\"\n\n\"Oh, Dad, you silly ol' buzzard, knock it off. I like to hear about my grandparents, but I asked about the family business.\"\n\n\"But, Sharlene, you're a girl, you're supposed to like romantic stories. You know, boy meets girl, they fall in love, and live happily ever after. It's supposed to be written down somewhere in your genetic code. Maybe when they programmed you, they left that part out. Or maybe you're a boy in disguise. Hey, son, how about we go toss the old pigskin around some?\"\n\nShe pauses then asks, \"Uh, what's a pigskin besides what a pig wears on the outside of its body?\"\n\n\"Rats, she already guessed the joke. A pigskin is another term for a football which was the ball used in a game by the same name. The game never caught on, but it was a somewhat more organized and less violent game than the English Quadrant game of rugby.\"\n\n\"Dad, thank you for telling me about how Grandma and Grandpa met, but I have to wonder how much you embellished it.\"\n\n\"From the stories I remember, I tried to repeat what I heard until the bit about the bratwurst and beer, that was embellishment. And before you question what it had to do with the family business, how, when, and where your grandparents met was a major factor in the business getting started and the success that it's enjoyed.\"\n\n\"Okay, Dad, I'm sorry I questioned the direction of your story. By the way, I think your embellishment fit right in.\"\n\n\"Why, thank you, Sharlene. I'm so glad my creative abilities have finally been recognized.\"\n\n* * * * *\n\n2134-10-27 (m3)\n\nWhen they have fresh cups of tea in front of them, Robert resumes the narrative, \"During the first long break between college terms, Running Deer took Hienrik to visit her family in the Western Sector. There he saw some of the same symptoms of the disadvantaged which he had seen in many other parts of the world. There weren't the cardboard box shanty towns, but there was high unemployment, poor or no medical care, overcrowded schools, disintegrating infrastructure, and disdain from the nearby wealthy. The Westerners may have kept the Europeans from taking over the land, but the cost to the population and the natural resources had been enormous.\n\n\"During the next long break between college terms, Hienrik took Running Deer to visit his family in the African Sector and they spent a couple of weeks working on one of his dad's projects in a neighboring quadrant. She saw firsthand how Hienrik's family sought to help the local disadvantaged, as well as the extent of the poverty. Running Deer was somewhat ashamed for thinking of her people as disadvantaged until Martha pointed out that disadvantaged was a relative rather than an absolute term. Hienrik was almost not awarded his doctorate in economics because his dissertation on the economic effects of corporations on the disadvantaged was so controversial to traditional economic theory. After he graduated, he was hired by the African Sector government to study the historical economic trends of the quadrants in the sector and how they interacted with each other.\n\n\"Running Deer graduated with a degree in civil engineering at the top of her class and was hired by a prominent Trader Sector engineering firm to design high tech office buildings. A few months later, she found out she had been hired because the firm's executives felt that its engineering staff was poorly represented by females from the Western Sector. When she confronted her manager, and he confirmed it, she immediately quit and moved back to her family's ranch in the Western Sector.\n\n\"A few days later, Hienrik arrived in an attempted surprise visit, found her apartment vacated and that she had quit her job. When he contacted her family, Running Bear assured him that she was there, that she was safe, and that she was 'almighty pissed off,' and to come as soon as he could. After Running Bear picked him up at the airport and told him what happened, Hienrik figured that for once, Running Bear's description of his sister's mood was an understatement. When they arrived at the ranch and Running Deer threw herself into Hienrik's arms, he was glad she had already worked off her anger and doubly so when Running Bear later showed him the mangled pile of firewood which Running Deer had reduced to kindling.\n\nRobert takes another drink before he continues the story as though he stepped back into the past:\n\nThat evening, after dinner and with her family as unknowing witnesses, Hienrik kneels before Running Deer, asks her to marry him, and presents her with an engagement ring.\n\nIn the silence of her pause, her withered old grandmother says, \"Don't be a daft fool, girl, say 'yes', or I will.\"\n\nAmidst the laughter, Running Deer proclaims, \"Yahvohl,\" throws herself on Hienrik, and kisses him while the laughter of her family turns to cheers and whistles.\n\nAfter they break the kiss and the cheers have diminished, Running Deer's grandmother calls him over. Hienrik kneels by the side of her wheelchair to be at eye level with her, and asks, \"Yes, Grandmother?\"\n\nShe takes his hand and stares at it intently. Then she reaches out, puts a hand on the back of his neck, pulls him closer, and stares into his eyes. Then to his shocked amazement, she pulls his head even closer and kisses him to the renewed cheers of her family. After she breaks the kiss, she keeps him close while she catches her breath, then with a big somewhat toothless grin, she proclaims, \"Welcome to the family, boy.\" With a light shove towards Running Deer, she tells him, \"Now go make some babies.\"\n\nLater, when they are relatively alone, Hienrik asks Running Deer if her grandmother's action was some cultural tradition he had never heard about.\n\nShe laughs then explains, \"No. Grandmother is just a lusty old lady who hasn't been kissed for awhile. She likes you and when she said, 'welcome to the family,' she meant it. As matriarch, her word is law, at least within the family.\"\n\nLate that evening, which was early morning in the African Sector, Hienrik calls his parents and tells them that Running Deer had accepted his proposal. After his parents congratulate him, his dad tells him to quit his lousy government job and do some real work.\n\n\"What do you mean, Dad?\"\n\nThomas explains, \"I think it's time for you to start your own company and formally do what I've been doing out of a briefcase. It's what you want to do and it's what Running Deer wants to do. I'll work as a consultant to help you over the edges and get you acquainted with my contacts. You're both good engineers and with your understanding of economics, you can keep an eye on the bigger picture. I've got enough money saved to get you going and to tide us over. Take as long as you need to get married there and then come here and get married again. What do you say, son? Will you make an old man doubly happy?\"\n\nWhile Hienrik just sits there with a stunned expression, Running Deer answers for him, \"I'm sorry, Dad, but I think your son has just developed a sudden case of lockjaw in the open position.\" When Thomas finishes laughing, she goes on, \"For his sake, I accept your wonderful offer, and if he objects, I'll beat some sense into him. Thank you, Dad.\"\n\n\"Thank you, Running Deer. And welcome to the family, daughter.\"\n\nRobert returns to the present and provides an overview, \"So, the family business was started. There was some paperwork to acknowledge the marriage in both sectors, but it was straight forward. There was some discussion as to where to incorporate the new company which required legal and financial research, but it was soon accomplished. Due to the nature of the business and the amount of time they would spend away on projects, it was decided to use Thomas and Martha's home as the office point of contact, especially since that was where Thomas's contacts knew where to reach him. They also decided not to set up a household of their own for awhile, but would alternate their time away from the current project between the families. Before I go on, I need to make a pit stop and get re-fueled.\"\n\nA few minutes later, Sharlene hands him a fresh cup of tea as she says, \"Dad, I really appreciate you taking the time to tell me all of this. I thought I knew Grandma and Grandpa, but this adds whole new dimensions to who they are. I can picture Grandma Running Deer chopping that firewood into kindling after being told she was hired as a token Western female when she had graduated from a well-known university at the top of her class. I would have been right there with her. I can also imagine Grandpa Hienrik having a controversial doctoral paper. From what I understand, the whole idea of the doctoral dissertation is to present a new look at an old idea or to document research in a new field or direction. Do you have a copy of his dissertation? I think I would like to try to read it.\"\n\n\"I think I do, but if I don't, I'm sure he still has a copy of it. I'll make a note to look for it when we're done talking. Okay, we've covered how the company got started. I know it sounded more like family history, but what your grandparents and great grandparents were thinking, feeling, and experiencing, had a lot to do with why the company was started and the philosophy which keeps it going. Think about your grandma Running Deer. She takes great pride in her heritage and in her engineering abilities. Now if that prestigious engineering firm she was working at had told her they had hired her because she had proven herself by being at the top of her class and wanted her to stay because she had demonstrated excellent engineering abilities, do you think she would have jumped at the chance to do relatively simple engineering jobs while traipsing through jungles, swamps, and deserts, maneuvering around crooked politicians, fighting off bandits, being hated simply because she was a woman, or considered as a dark skinned European by a lot of others?\"\n\nSharlene shakes her head as she answers, \"Not likely.\"\n\n\"So, the reason the company even started is deeply embedded in your family history and you won't find it recorded in publicly accessible company documents. I'm going to skip over the company philosophy for a moment and deal with your question of surviving in the fluctuation of the stock market. First, the company isn't on the stock market. It's a privately held company. If the company needs to borrow money, instead of selling stocks it goes to a bank. If a bank won't lend the company money, then the company will borrow from its officers, your grandfather, me, and a couple of other people, but that's never happened. Second, the majority of our suppliers aren't on the stock market. Third, when we do have to deal with companies which are on the stock market, we spread our business as far as we can to reduce our risk, so if one of those companies has a problem, it won't shut us down. Does that make sense or do you want more details?\"\n\n\"That's about the level of what I wanted to know. Not so much the nitty-gritty details, but the reasons which guide the details.\"\n\n\"Okay. In regards to our philosophy, the first part of that goes back to the stock issue. The company is a privately held company and we intend that it remain a privately held company. We've had a number of offers from publicly held companies to buy us out and we've refused every offer and some of them were big. We've worked very hard from the time of your great grandfather Thomas to build a reputation for good quality construction, completed on time, and within budget. We know the offers from publicly held companies aren't to purchase our assets, but to purchase our reputation and then push it into ruination in an effort to capture as much short term profit as they can. Before that happens, the company will sell off its assets, contact all of the people we've worked with and tell them we're quitting business and that if somebody comes to them with the company name, it's not us, and then dissolve the company.\"\n\nSharlene looks at him in surprise before she exclaims, \"That's serious.\"\n\nRobert nods his head as he responds, \"You bet it is. The fewer companies there are which produce a product or provide a service, the more important a company's name and reputation is. Just within the motorized vehicle industry, there are a number of companies that, for whatever reason, lost their reputation for building a quality product at an affordable price, so people stopped buying their product and you never hear of them again, unless you go to an antique vehicle show. As a company, our primary purpose is to consult on, design, and/or build civil engineering projects in developing quadrants or in depressed areas of developed quadrants. Some of the more typical projects are schools, hospitals, medical clinics, roads, housing developments, wells, pipelines, sewers, energy production and distribution, and emergency services facilities.\"\n\n\"What do you mean by energy production?\"\n\n\"Primarily solar and wind energy with an occasional geothermal project.\"\n\n\"Okay.\"\n\n* * * * *\n\n2134-10-27 (m4)\n\nAfter he takes a drink, Robert asks, \"Do you know how a civil engineering project is put together, for example, a school?\"\n\nSharlene thinks for a moment then says, \"I might be able to guess some of it, but I don't know.\"\n\nHe nods his head as he says, \"Fair enough. For our discussion, I'll use a very simplified version of building a school. Just to let you know, each step I mention can have a dozen variables and many of those a dozen more variables. Here we go, building a school starts when a political entity such as a quadrant, considers the possibility of building a school in village ABC. Someone will go to village ABC and find out how many children there are in the village and the surrounding countryside and where there's land available for the school. Based on the number of children, the size of the school can be determined and the land available will determine how the size of the school is configured. The political entity will then put out a request for bids to construction companies for them to build a 2,000 square foot school in village ABC on a 3,000 square foot plot of land to be completed within five months for no more than 50,000 credits.\n\n\"Our company receives the bid, looks at our current workload to decide if we can do it. We'll also review our records to see if we've worked with that political entity before or if we've found suppliers in the area. If we decide our workload isn't too high and we've had no problems working with that political entity, we'll send an engineer and one or two other people to the political entity to review the plans for the school. Then they'll go to village ABC and start to ask questions such as: Do you want a school? Do you have a teacher? Where will the teacher live? Will you help build the school?\n\n\"The team will look at the proposed building site. Will the ground support the proposed building? Does the land flood? What happens to the land in the summer, the winter, the rainy season, the dry season? Is there water and electricity available? Where will the sewage system go? The team will also go to the suppliers of building materials to determine the quality of the materials. What will the supplies cost? Can they be delivered? Is there a road to village ABC to support the vehicles which will bring the building supplies? Do they have construction workers? What will they cost? And so on and so forth.\n\n\"When we have the answers and if things look satisfactory, we'll send in the bid saying we can build the school in five months for 48,000 credits. Most often the political entity will go with the lowest bid, period. Sometimes our bid is chosen even if it isn't the lowest, because we've built a reputation of quality construction. If our bid is chosen, we'll send in a bigger team, usually including the original team. If the villagers really want the school, we find out what their most pressing need is and supply it and then ask them to help prepare the site and construct the building.\n\n\"As much as possible, we use local supplies and local building techniques, so the villagers can do the building themselves and sometimes we teach them how to build it stronger. Probably ninety percent of the time, for us to supply their most pressing need is cheaper than bringing in construction workers from the nearby town. It may sound like we're getting low cost labor, but what we're really getting is people who take pride in their school because they built it. It will be built better and maintained longer. And when we teach them better construction techniques on the school, they turn around and use those techniques to build better homes and other buildings.\n\n\"When we build a school, we'll often build a septic system with it, even if the plans don't call for it, and we teach the villagers about hygiene and sanitation to reduce disease. When we work with suppliers of building materials, if the materials aren't up to the quality we need, we'll work with the supplier to improve his product. If he's unwilling, we sometimes set up our own supply company and enable a couple of families or even a whole village to go into business for themselves. When the school is complete, it's often the strongest building in the area and becomes a community center, a church, a storm shelter, a medical clinic, or whatever the village needs.\n\n\"Many times when we've collected our fee and the accounting is complete, we find that if we had built the school strictly to the plans and used outside construction workers, we would have lost money. But by modifying the plans to build the school stronger, adding a septic system, using local labor and local supplies, paying for a team to teach better construction techniques and hygiene, we make a small profit. More importantly, the village doesn't have 'a' school, they have 'their' school. No amount of money can buy the pride those villagers express in their school which they built. I know this isn't a list of pretty philosophical statements, those you can get in the company brochures, but maybe this gives you an idea of what we do, how we do it, and why we do it. Sharlene?\"\n\nAs she steps around the table with tears in her eyes, she hugs him and proclaims, \"That was beautiful, Dad, really beautiful. I could see your pride as you spoke of the villagers' pride.\"\n\nRobert cautions her, \"I hope I didn't give you the idea that it's all goodness and light.\"\n\n\"No. When you started, even I, who doesn't know anything about construction, could think of lots of other questions and see where multitudes of problems could crop up. In the end, it must be worth all of the problems to be able to help people help themselves. In a way, it's like what Alice goes through, when she sees broken bodies and broken lives every day, yet she can take pride and joy in the ones she's able to save.\"\n\n\"I would have never equated what Alice does with what we do, but in general principles, there are some similarities. . . . Whenever a project is completed, we always survey or interview the team which was involved in the project and ask: What went wrong? What went well? What can we do better? Who did you have problems with? Who was supportive? What will you remember from this project? To that last question, two main answers stand out: the pride of the people in the successful completion of their project, both the team and the villagers; and the fun the engineer had in being able to produce a better product for no more cost.\"\n\n\"If your company is so successful, how come other companies don't imitate your methodologies?\"\n\n\"They do and in fact we've helped some local companies get started who very successfully do what we do. We won't bid on projects in their quadrants and sometimes we'll help them bid on projects in nearby quadrants. Other companies try to imitate, but they ignore critical elements in the interest of gaining short term profit which often results in less success. Actually, we make it easy for companies to imitate us because the checklist we follow for every project is publicly available. Just a second . . . here's a copy.\"\n\nSharlene exclaims, \"That's a book!\"\n\nRobert nods his head in agreement then explains, \"It started as notes or ideas which Thomas and Martha wanted to pass on to Dad and Mom when they started the company. Mom formalized it into a checklist and it's grown over the years. Most of the time the team assigned to the project will complete it electronically so we don't waste so much paper. If you look at the table of contents, those are essentially our guiding principles. The checklist is revised on a fairly regular basis as we run into situations on a new project which we haven't encountered before. Then there are sub-checklists related to types of projects, because there are some things a hospital needs that a school doesn't.\n\n\"In the early years of the company, we tried to hire engineers from top schools and sent them all over the world to work on projects. It was soon apparent that many times those engineers couldn't deal with local conditions. Then the light bulb went on, if we use local labor and local supplies, why not local engineers? We scaled back the size of the company to those who could work with the local conditions and started sponsoring engineering internships. An engineering student, usually civil engineering, will take time off from college to 'get their hands dirty' in working on a project in an underdeveloped area. Whenever possible, the student will be involved from start to finish and will be required to shovel dirt, work the machinery, review the plans, report on progress, work with contractors, oversee the construction workers, or do whatever else is needed. The projects used for the internships are short term, three months to a year, whatever will work with the student's academic schedule.\n\n\"Most of the better known engineering schools scoffed at the idea, while many of the local quadrant schools jumped at the opportunity. It was soon apparent that the students gained much knowledge and confidence from the experience and were better students both in their insights and the quality of the questions they asked and it wasn't long before other schools wanted to join the program. After graduation, many of those interns became our engineering team leaders on new projects and once they had some successful projects under their belt, we often encouraged them to go into business for themselves and start their own engineering company.\n\n\"If you were to look at a chart of how many employees we have, you would see a gradual, but clear downturn, as though we were a failing business. We're not firing employees and closing local offices, we're encouraging them to go into business for themselves. As time has gone on, we're doing less construction and more consulting and have become a clearing house of engineering techniques most successfully used in underdeveloped areas. Sometimes we're even a bank as we loan the money to the local office to buy the assets and start their own company. We're still a business and don't give away our local properties, but we do keep the price as low as possible within local conditions.\"\n\nSharlene shakes her head as she says, \"That's fascinating. I never would have guessed all of that was going on. So how do you fit into the company? And what about my mother and father, what did they do?\"\n\n\"Before we get into all of that, why don't we take a break for lunch and you can tell me more about school. Are there any boys who I should be prepared for you to bring home for us to meet?\"\n\n\"Dad!?! They're all a lot older than I am and even then, most of them are immature or just plain jerks. A couple of guys from my martial arts class are there and they're like big brothers and have quietly passed it around that other guys aren't allowed to bother me. It's kind of funny, but since I still look like a little girl, a lot of the other students think I'm just some show off daughter of one of the professors instead of an actual student. A couple of the professors have gotten in on the act and call me 'daughter' or 'kiddo' or other nick-names which suggest a closer relationship.\"\n\nRobert laughs at the mental image then exclaims, \"That's wonderful. Oh, what fun.\"\n\n* * * * *\n\n2134-10-27 (a1)\n\nAfter they prepare, eat, and clean up after lunch which they do on their own since Sarah is at one of her volunteer activities, Sharlene asks, \"Dad, would it be too much out of the story line of the company to tell me how my mother and father met? Mom's been kind of vague about that.\"\n\n\"I can easily fit that in since they met while doing company business. I'll need to bring in some of your mother's history for it to make sense and that's probably why your mom has been vague about it. Before I get to your mother and father's roles, I can rather quickly cover what I do for the company. I type emails, look at numbers, and talk on the phone. Is that clear enough?\"\n\n\"Clear? Dad, it's so vague, it doesn't mean anything. Almost anybody with a job could say the same thing.\"\n\nRobert pauses as though he seriously thinks about it then he grins and clarifies, \"You've got a point there. Okay, my official title is Administrative Vice President. I'm responsible for almost everything in the company except the construction and the consulting. I oversee all of the financial, legal, personnel, publicity, and physical asset elements of the company.\"\n\nSharlene's eyes open wide in surprise as she exclaims, \"Wow! You do all of that? I couldn't.\"\n\n\"Sure you could. Maybe not today, you're still young. Give yourself some time to learn and gain some experience and you'll be running your own company. Actually, I don't do it all, I just oversee it. I don't do the accounting, but I have to know enough about it to hire the right people and to make sure they do it right, and the same with all of those other areas. Some areas I'm more directly involved in than others, but the key for me is to hire quality people who believe in the philosophy of the company, give them the tools they need to do the job, then sit back and be amazed at how well they accomplish the work.\"\n\n\"But you're still responsible for all of those areas.\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"How do you have time to talk with me?\"\n\nRobert explains, \"You're my favorite daughter and I like to talk with you. Remember, I hired good people. I don't need to be looking over their shoulders. Even if one of them has a problem, I've made it clear that they have the first shot at solving it. About eighty percent of the time they come up with a better solution that I could have thought of. Approximately fifteen percent of the time there is no solution, because there are too many factors outside of our control. Less than five percent of the time they made a mistake. We discuss what the problem was, what their solution was, what else could have been done to solve the problem, and we all learn from the experience. Enough about me, or do you have any other questions?\"\n\n\"No. I suppose someday I'd like to meet some of the good people you've hired.\"\n\n\"Some of them live in different quadrants and we coordinate through email and phone conferences. You've been with me to the local office and those are all good people.\"\n\n\"The last time we were there, you had to meet with someone, so Klara took me around and introduced me to a lot of people. She's a nice lady and kind of reminds me of Grandma Lucy.\"\n\n\"Yes, Klara is nice. She's one of our lawyers. During contract negotiations, she can come across like a big dog who thinks you're trying to take their favorite bone away, you feel like you want to count your fingers when you're done.\"\n\nSharlene looks at him in surprise then asks, \"Klara? I find that hard to believe.\"\n\n\"That's part of why she's so good. People dismiss her or underestimate her. Just like what happened to you in your martial arts class when those two new boys picked on you.\"\n\n\"Huh? Oh. I think I understand. If the opponent thinks you're a pushover, they get over confident and don't put much effort into winning the contest.\"\n\n\"That's right.\"\n\n\"It might be interesting to see Klara in action. I'm not sure how to picture that with just words.\"\n\nRobert nods his head as he responds, \"Klara is a joy to watch. I'll try to remember to see what her schedule is and see if she wouldn't mind an observer some time when you're free. Do you have any other questions?\"\n\n\"Not now, Dad.\"\n\n\"Before I get into your mother's history, let me briefly touch on your father's history up until he met your mother. Some you've probably heard, but this might put it into context. After your father and I were born, your grandma spent more time at home and kept an eye on the administrative side of the business along with Thomas and Martha. When we were a little older and they were doing a project in what they felt was a safe area, they would take us along. David and I thought it was a wonderful vacation because we were able to play with the village kids, work the construction equipment, see wild animals, ride an elephant, and go to exotic places. We had so much fun and had no idea how much we were learning in the process.\n\n\"Years later, I realized that when we went with them, we were an unintended public relations bonanza for my parents when the villagers saw the foreigners bring their own children. Sometimes when the people in a village were reluctant to help and David and I were working on the project, the village kids didn't want to be left out and would unintentionally shame their parents into helping and soon the whole village was involved. When it was time for college, David followed in Dad's footsteps and earned a civil engineering degree. Along the way, he opened the eyes of a few professors based on his years of field experience and working with Dad. After he graduated, he oversaw a few projects under Dad's supervision, then did a number of projects on his own and a couple of years after that, he was responsible for all of the projects in the Asian Sector.\n\n\"I thought the engineering side was interesting, but I was fascinated by the support functions of the business, so I went to college and graduated with a business administration degree and took over that part of the work from Mom who was anxious to spend more time in the field on the engineering side. It was while your father was responsible for all of the projects in the Asian Sector that he met your mother. To understand how that happened, we have to go back to her mother, your grandmother.\"\n\nSharlene supplies the name, \"Sha-Lin.\"\n\n\"That's right. I'm sorry, but we don't know anything about her family which must have been an interesting story because the two parts of her name are from two different cultures in the Asian Sector. 'Lin' comes from the Chinese Quadrant, although it's pronounced 'leen' there, and means 'fine jade'. Do you know what jade is?\"\n\n\"Isn't it that greenish stone they do those beautiful carvings from?\"\n\n\"That's right. It's a hard stone which enables them to carve it thin and look so delicate, yet it's strong and won't easily break, and fine jade is the best quality. The first part of her name, 'Sha,' comes from the Korean Quadrant and apparently simply means 'girl'.\"\n\n\"Thank you for telling me, Dad, but how does that fit in?\"\n\n\"In the Asian Sector, and in some other places, a person's name is thought to shape their personality. In our culture, it's not believed, but to know what Sha-Lin's name meant does somewhat match who she became, especially the second part of her name. As her namesake, I can see how it can also apply to you which I think will be more evident as you grow up.\"\n\n\"What does Sharlene mean in our language?\"\n\nRobert grins then answers, \"I'll let you look that up.\"\n\n\"Okay.\"\n\n\"On with the story, Sha-Lin grew up in the Thai Quadrant and never knew her parents. She didn't know if she was orphaned or sold by her parents or another relative.\"\n\nSharlene almost chokes as she tries to get the word out, \"Sold!?!\"\n\n\"Yes. I'm not trying to shock you, but it happens. Especially if the family thinks they have too many children to feed or if they have debts to pay. Usually it's a girl child who is sold, because a son is expected to support his parents when they're old, but a daughter goes to live with her husband, so she's considered to be of no benefit to her parents in their old age. If they think the girl will grow up pretty, she might be sold to a house of prostitution which was were Sha-Lin's first memories were from.\"\n\n\"Prosti . . . You mean . . .?\"\n\n\"Yes, where women rent their bodies for men to have sex.\"\n\n\"Oh, . . . my. . . . No wonder Mom couldn't tell me. . . . Did Sha-Lin . . . ?\"\n\nRobert nods his head as he explains, \"Yes. But before you judge her, think about this, she had no parents or other family, she had no education, and she had no opportunity to grow up to decide what she wanted to do.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry.\"\n\n\"That's okay. Consider this as a learning opportunity to remind yourself to take the time to learn more of the story before you judge the person's motives.\"\n\n\"Thanks, Dad.\"\n\n\"So, Sha-Lin's first memory as a child was doing laundry in a house of prostitution. Yes, child labor also. When she became older, she was taught had to be a prostitute. In the Thai Quadrant, prostitution is considered an honorable occupation, but I have to wonder how many young girls and women are essentially forced into it like Sha-Lin because they don't know any better and have no other opportunities.\"\n\n\"Could she have done laundry for some family?\"\n\n\"It was possible, but in that case, she most likely would have been treated like a slave and the men in the family would have also used her sexually. She was probably better protected in a house of prostitution.\"\n\nSharlene hesitates, then in a quieter voice, she asks, \"Is it really that bad?\"\n\nRobert nods his head then answers, \"I'm afraid so, and sometimes it's a lot worse. And not just in the Thai Quadrant. You don't want to know how many times our construction teams have been offered young females, either for the night or to take home with them. We've had to fire some people who took advantage of those offers. Many of us have wished we could take those young females away, not to take advantage of them, but to give them a home, a good education, and an opportunity to be themselves.\"\n\n* * * * *\n\n2134-10-27 (a2)\n\nRobert takes a drink before he continues, \"Anyway, Sha-Lin, as she became aware of how many young females, herself included, were forced into that life without having a choice, decided she was going to find some way to escape. Since she didn't have an education and there were no other opportunities for a young woman in her culture, she decided to become a special prostitute or a mistress to some important person, or better yet, a foreigner who might take her away. When a nervous young man from the European consulate showed up, Sha-Lin took him. The next time he came back, he asked for her.\n\n\"In a few weeks, he rented a small apartment and she became his mistress. She didn't get greedy for gifts as some women do in similar situations because she had a bigger goal. Whenever he came to the apartment, she always tried to make him happy, to calm him when he had a bad day at the office or anything she could think of to make him want her. She even talked him into teaching her how to read and write standard. From what Soo-Lin said, Sha-Lin grew to care for him, but her goal was more important. After awhile, she decided to sink the hook deeper and allowed herself to become pregnant by him. He was both mad and happy at the same time. Sha-Lin continued to calm him and make him happy. He felt responsible enough to take her to the consulate doctor when Soo-Lin was to be born.\n\n\"After Soo-Lin was born, Sha-Lin continued to try to make him happy, but when it came time for the young man to go back to the European Sector, he didn't dare take Sha-Lin with him. Apparently, he felt too guilty to just leave her in the Thai Quadrant where she would have no choice but to go back to being a prostitute. One night, he took Sha-Lin and Soo-Lin, gave them some money, and smuggled them to the Koala Quadrant where he had arranged for Sha-Lin to work in the laundry of a hotel at a tourist resort.\n\n\"It was hard work for Sha-Lin and sometimes she missed the care the young man had showed her, but she had achieved her goal of escaping prostitution and saving her little girl from that life. She worked hard and saved what money she could because she wanted Soo-Lin to have a good education. She was able to earn a little extra money by providing seamstress services to the staff and tourists. Sha-Lin did all she could to provide Soo-Lin with the opportunities which she herself never had.\n\n\"As Soo-Lin grew, her intelligence and cheerfulness became the delight of the resort staff and the tourists. When she wasn't going to school or doing homework, she was into everything, helping in the laundry, helping the maids clean the rooms, and helping on the grounds. She would help set the tables in the dining room and although she was too small to help in the kitchen, she would ask questions about the cooking, the spices used, and the utensils. As she grew older, she would spend time around the reservation desk and asked questions about the operation and the management. She often knew where things were on the resort which the managerial staff didn't know.\n\n\"When she graduated from high school in the top quarter of her class, with scholarships, help from the resort staff, and the money her mother had managed to save, Soo-Lin went to college. She was lonely without her mother and her friends from the resort, but she remembered her mother's sacrifices and persevered. Between college terms, while Soo-Lin was back at the resort, her mother had a heart attack and died. When she went back to college, Soo-Lin had a big hole in her heart and a small cardboard box of items by which to remember her mother. When she graduated from college with a degree in hotel management, she was offered an assistant manager position in a small hotel which was part of a sector wide chain. Within a couple of years, she was promoted to a more responsible position within the chain.\n\n\"When Soo-Lin was offered the prestigious but risky position of arranging meetings for visitors from other sectors, she hesitated, then she remembered how much she liked to interact with the tourists and the people at the resort from her childhood, so she accepted. It wasn't long before the hotel management was happy they had offered her the position. Her attention to detail, her courtesy, her quiet cheerfulness, did much to sooth visitors who were involved in tense negotiations. That hotel was one which David had used on other occasions to meet with sector and quadrant officials to iron out contractual differences before a large project was started.\n\n\"After only a few meetings, it was obvious to David that the meetings Soo-Lin arranged ran more smoothly. He requested that all of his meetings were arranged by Soo-Lin which the hotel management gladly agreed to. Once, before a particularly difficult negotiation, the meeting was about to start and the translator hadn't arrived. When Soo-Lin told him the translator called and wasn't able to arrive on time due to transportation issues, David became upset.\"\n\nRobert 'steps' into the past to relate what happened while he changes the pitch of his voice to reflect David and Soo-Lin speaking:\n\nDavid exclaims, \"Damn, where am I going to find another translator this late?\"\n\nSoo-Lin responds, \"Sir Schmidt, might I be of assistance in this matter?\"\n\n\"Do you know someone who can speak Thai?\"\n\n\"My mother was raised in the Thai Quadrant and that is all we spoke at home, Sir Schmidt.\"\n\n\"Excellent. Would you be willing to work as my translator?\"\n\n\"I am here to serve, Sir Schmidt.\"\n\nThat was how the hotel staff were trained to answer, to which David could only say, \"Thank you, Soo-Lin.\" After that, the negotiation didn't turn out to be as difficult as David had feared. When the meeting is over, David asks Soo-Lin, \"May I impose upon your time a little longer?\"\n\n\"I am here to serve, Sir Schmidt.\"\n\n\"I don't want to take you from your other duties.\"\n\n\"Sir Schmidt, my only other duty this evening is to see that the cleaning staff cleans the meeting room.\"\n\n\"I would like to invite you to dinner, but I know your manager would frown on that.\"\n\n\"That is correct, Sir Schmidt. The manager does not want the staff to fraternize with the guests.\"\n\n\"Would it be okay for us to talk in the corner of the room while it is being cleaned?\"\n\n\"That would be unusual, but permissible. I will see to it immediately, Sir Schmidt.\"\n\nWhen she leaves the room, David grabs a couple of water bottles and a small plate of finger foods left over from the meeting and goes to a corner of the room and sets up a couple of chairs facing each other with another chair partially between to serve as a table. In a matter of moments, Soo-Lin leads the cleaning staff into the room and when she notices David in the corner, she's surprised that a foreigner would move chairs by himself. As she walks over, he points to the food and water bottles and suggests, \"Help yourself.\" When he recognizes that she's about to protest, David speaks up, \"Soo-Lin, you've been translating all afternoon, you're human, you need water, please drink.\"\n\n\"Thank you, Sir Schmidt.\"\n\n\"Please call me David.\"\n\nSoo-Lin's eyes open wide in surprise and it takes her a few moments to respond, \"I am sorry, Sir Schmidt, that is not permitted.\"\n\n\"Would it be permissible for you to refrain from saying, 'Sir Schmidt' all of the time?\"\n\n\"At your request, that would be permitted, Sir Schmidt.\"\n\n\"I so request, thank you.\" After he gestures her to sit on the empty chair, he raises his water bottle in salute and drinks. As he notices that she's just sitting there, he says, \"I encourage you to drink.\"\n\n\"Thank you, Sir . . .\" he quickly raises his hand in protest. She drops her head, quietly says, \"Thank you,\" and takes a small drink.\n\n\"I wish to thank you very much for your translation services this afternoon.\"\n\n\"I only served as I was able.\"\n\n\"Before I forget, this is for you,\" David holds out an envelope which Soo-Lin doesn't take.\n\n\"It is not permitted that I receive a gift.\"\n\n\"This isn't a gift. This is what I would have paid the translator for his services if he were here. Since he wasn't here and you performed his duties for him, then this belongs to you.\"\n\n\"It is not permitted that I receive anything in serving, however I was able.\"\n\n\"Then I'll save this until such time as it is permitted to give it to you.\" David puts the envelope back into his pocket. After a brief pause, he asks, \"Would it be permissible for me to speak to the manager and express my gratitude for your services this afternoon?\"\n\n\"It would be permitted.\"\n\n\"Would it be helpful for you to have such a commendation in your employment file?\"\n\nShe hesitates in surprise before she responds, \"Yes, thank you.\"\n\n\"You helped my company in a very important negotiation and I'm very grateful to you. Do you have a surname so I can properly identify you in my commendation?\"\n\n\"No, Soo-Lin is my only name.\"\n\n\"You're obviously fluent in standard and Thai. Do you speak any other languages?\"\n\n\"I am considered adequate in Cantonese, Mandarin, Nipponese, Punjabi, and Koalan. I can conduct limited conversations in Deutsche, English, Espanola, Afrikaans, Swahili, Russian, and Incan.\"\n\nDavid's eyes are wide in surprise and it takes him a little while to exclaim, \"That's impressive. I don't wish to intrude on your personal life, but how did you learn all of those conversational languages from cultures which are so far from the Asian Sector?\"\n\n\"I was raised at a tourist resort in the Koala Quadrant and I would ask the visitors to teach me some of their language. Seldom did they refuse.\"\n\n\"Do you enjoy translating like you did this afternoon or do you prefer to talk to people in other languages?\"\n\nSoo-Lin is puzzled by the question and asks, \"Enjoy? I am sorry, I do not see how that is a factor in serving.\"\n\nAs he realizes that approach isn't going to work, David changes his direction and asks, \"May I inquire as to what your educational achievements were which enabled you to acquire your current position?\"\n\n\"I graduated from the Koala Quadrant University with a degree in Hotel Management. I had to work in two other positions within the hotel chain before my current position.\"\n\n\"What were those previous positions?\"\n\n\"Assistant manager.\"\n\n\"May I presume that those positions as assistant manager were in increasingly larger hotels with more responsibilities?\"\n\n\"That is correct.\"\n\n\"I presume that as a child you helped the resort staff with their duties and learned everyone's responsibilities.\"\n\n\"That is correct.\"\n\n\"As a child what was your favorite staff responsibility to help with?\"\n\nSoo-Lin hesitates before she answers, \"Helping the gardener with the flowers. He would let some of them go to seed, so I could collect the seeds and plant my own flowers.\"\n\n\"Soo-Lin, thank you very much for taking the time to speak with me. I do not wish to increase your duties, but I may want to have you translate for me in the future. Do you have a suggestion on how I may approach your manager about requesting your translating abilities without interfering with your other duties?\"\n\n\"My manager would say that it was my duty to serve.\"\n\nDavid nods his head as he responds, \"I'm sure he would, but if you were translating in my meeting, how could you, at the same time, be helping somebody else's meeting go smoothly?\"\n\n\"That could be difficult. May I take some time to consider it?\"\n\n\"Of course. If you have a suggestion, you can leave me a message, or call my room.\"\n\n\"I am sorry, that would not be appropriate.\"\n\n\"It would be if it was in the interest of organizing meeting details or even arranging a time and location to arrange meeting details.\"\n\nSoo-Lin pauses to think then says, \"In that situation, you are correct.\"\n\n\"Then I won't take any more of your valuable time. Again, I thank you very much for your translating services this afternoon and for your excellent meeting arrangements. A pleasant evening to you, Soo-Lin.\"\n\nDavid stands up, bows towards her, and leaves the room without noticing the wide eyed looks of surprise from Soo-Lin and the cleaning staff who have never seen a foreign visitor bow to a staff member.\n\nWithin the hour, the hotel assistant manager calls Soo-Lin to his office.\n\nAs she stands in front of his desk, Soo-Lin asks, \"Yes, Sir Manager?\"\n\n\"I understand you spoke with Sir Schmidt.\"\n\n\"Yes, Sir Manager.\"\n\n\"What did you speak about?\"\n\n\"He wished to know my abilities in addition to arranging meetings, Sir Manager.\"\n\n\"Why did he want to know that?\"\n\n\"His translator was late today. I offered my services, Sir Manager.\"\n\n\"As you should. Did he accept?\"\n\n\"Yes, Sir Manager.\"\n\n\"Was he pleased with your services?\"\n\n\"He indicated that my services were adequate, Sir Manager.\"\n\n\"Should he request your services in the future, provide them.\"\n\n\"Of course, Sir Manager.\"\n\n\"You may go.\"\n\n\"Thank you, Sir Manager.\"\n\nAfter he takes another drink of tea, Robert returns to the present and provides an overview of what happened afterwards, \"When David returned to his hotel room, he took some time and wrote a letter of commendation regarding Soo-Lin's services. Then he sent me an email to research the hotel chain's practices regarding managerial employees. He suspected they had a legally binding contract with the hotel chain. I did some checking and some coordination with our nearest local office and found out that the hotel chain did require contracts of its managerial employees. To our surprise, Soo-Lin's contract had been in force since her initial hiring. Usually, with each promotion, the managerial employee has to sign a new contract. In Soo-Lin's case, we didn't know if it was an oversight, or intentional on the part of the hotel chain to not lock themselves into a succession of multi-year contracts with a female employee. From what we could find out, Soo-Lin's five year contract was due to expire in about three months.\n\n\"When David returned from his trip, he sat down with Mom, Dad, and myself and suggested the company hire Soo-Lin as our Asian Sector meeting coordinator and head translator. He laid out her qualifications and abilities and pointed out the problems he has had from time to time with independent translators. When Dad asked David about his personal feelings, he responded, 'Soo-Lin is an intelligent, gentle, beautiful young woman that, from what I've seen, any man would be proud to call her his wife. But I'm making my best effort to look at her abilities in light of what's good for the company and not what my feelings may be in either direction. I would like you and/or Mom to manage the next set of negotiations there so there can be an objective look at Soo-Lin's ability and a second opinion as to whether she would be an asset to the company. I've tentatively scheduled a contract negotiation for a big contract in the Punjabi Quadrant in the next three to four weeks, but haven't made the meeting arrangements'.\n\n\"Mom and Dad agreed to handle the negotiations and asked David to set up the typical meeting arrangements and to request that Soo-Lin be the translator. They also asked me to research the hotel manager and his background since we never know ahead of time when that information can be useful. It didn't take me long to find out that the hotel manager was Chin Win-Woo, but was surprised to find out that, if we had the right person, he had been the local coordinator and future teacher for one of the schools which Dad had constructed.\"\n\n* * * * *\n\n2134-10-27 (a3)\n\nRobert pauses to sip some more tea before he 'returns' to the past:\n\nWhen Hienrik and Running Deer arrive at the hotel, Chin Win-Woo is overseeing the front desk, recognizes Hienrik, and bends over backwards to make him and Running Deer welcome. When they ask about his change in occupation, he says that the political climate had changed and he had to make a hasty move to better weather. On the morning of the contract negotiations, Hienrik and Running Deer request to meet with Soo-Lin to go over the final meeting arrangements. While Win-Woo goes to escort Soo-Lin and introduce her, Hienrik and Running Deer wait in the conference room with the door open and chat in Deutsche. When Win-Woo and Soo-Lin enter the conference room, Soo-Lin barely keeps her jaw from dropping open in surprise.\n\nAfter the introductions are completed, Hienrik says to Soo-Lin, \"I presume you were surprised to see us after you heard us speaking in Deutsche as you came into the room.\"\n\n\"That is true, Sir Schmidt.\"\n\n\"Please do not feel embarrassed, because we do that on purpose; sometimes as a joke, as with you, and sometimes to startle people particularly during negotiations.\"\n\nHienrik turns to Win-Woo and in passable Mandarin, he thanks him for taking his valuable time to make such humble introductions and will make arrangements to renew their valuable relationship in a more relaxed setting. After Win-Woo leaves, Hienrik and Running Deer quickly settle the last minute meeting details with Soo-Lin. After they verify that she can take the time and request that she drop the continuous Sir Schmidt and Lady Schmidt, Hienrik and Running Deer conduct a friendly and gentle interview, except that they change the language in which they're speaking multiple times.\n\nAs the interview draws to an end, Soo-Lin takes a bold step and asks, \"If I may be permitted to ask a question?\"\n\nRunning Deer responds, \"Of course.\"\n\n\"Why do you want a translator when you are fluent in those languages?\"\n\n\"We're not as fluent as we need to be for some negotiations, especially for the cultural subtleties. It's also advantageous in negotiations to keep some knowledge to ourselves. There have been times when either the other party or the translator tried to change the outcome of the negotiations when they thought we did not understand.\"\n\n\"Why do you tell me this and reveal your advantage?\"\n\nAfter a pause and with a nod from Hienrik, Running Deer answers, \"I'll answer your question, but first I would like to ask you a couple of questions. Would that be okay?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"We understand that your contract with the hotel chain is due to expire in about two months.\"\n\nSoo-Lin pauses in surprise before she responds, \"That is correct.\"\n\n\"If you feel that my next question is inappropriate, please do not answer it. Do you know if the hotel chain plans to renew your contract?\"\n\n\"I do not know.\"\n\n\"What do you like about the work that you do?\"\n\n\"I am here to serve.\"\n\nSince she realizes that a different approach might be necessary, Running Deer asks, \"My I ask you some other questions?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"If I ask a question which you believe is inappropriate, I request that you tell me so. If I ask a question which Soo-Lin as a person, not as a staff member of the hotel, does not want to answer, I request that you tell me that you do not want to answer the question. If I ask a question which is appropriate and that Soo-Lin as a person is willing to answer, I would like you to answer it. Are these conditions acceptable?\"\n\nWhile she wonders where this is going, Soo-Lin thinks about the conditions for a few moments then answers, \"Yes.\"\n\n\"Thank you. We all know there are some parts of a job which a person likes more than other parts of the job. I can see you already know where I'm going with this question. So, what parts of your position does Soo-Lin as a person enjoy most?\"\n\n\"I would not want to be in negotiations with you.\"\n\n\"Sure you would, because I'm trying to find out what Soo-Lin as a person believes is in her best interests.\"\n\nSince she's very startled by that, it takes Soo-Lin several moments to respond, \"My best interests? Why?\"\n\nRunning Deer explains, \"Because I suspect that your best interests may be compatible with my best interests. If I'm wrong, then I'll forgo my best interests, so that you may maintain what you believe to be in your best interests.\"\n\n\"You mean my best interests . . . are more important . . . than your best interests?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\nShe briefly stares at hearing the quick and positive answer then Soo-Lin drops her head into her hands and her small body shudders as she quietly sobs. Running Deer slips out of her chair, kneels in front of Soo-Lin's chair, and wraps her arms around Soo-Lin who cries the tears which she had been holding inside for years.\n\nAfter several minutes, Soo-Lin quietly says, \"I sorry I cry in front of you.\"\n\nRunning Deer hands her some tissues before she responds, \"Don't be sorry. We all need a chance to cry and someone to cry with. I don't wish to intrude, but did I say something to make you sad?\"\n\n\"Yes. I mean no. What you said reminded me of my mother who put my success in front of her own success.\"\n\n\"Your mother must be proud of your success.\"\n\nSoo-Lin hesitates while she struggles to hold back her tears, \"My mother died while I was in college.\"\n\n\"Oh, Soo-Lin, I'm so sorry.\"\n\nShe asks in surprise, \"Why should you be sorry?\"\n\n\"It is always painful to lose one's mother. And those of us who have lost our mothers, need to support each other in their loss. Do you have other family members to support you?\"\n\nA sad shake of Soo-Lin's head leads to another round of quiet sobbing.\n\nWhen Soo-Lin's tears have mostly subsided, Running Deer says, \"Oh, Soo-Lin. I am sorry. I know that I can't take the place of your family, but I would like to be your friend to share your hurts and to share the joys of your success. Would that be okay?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" Soo-Lin answers barely above a whisper. A few minutes of companionable silence slide by before Soo-Lin asks, \"Why do you want to be my friend?\"\n\n\"I suspect you need a friend, we have both lost our mothers and need to support each other, and you are a wonderful person. I'm selfish and want to be friends with wonderful people.\" Running Deer signals to Hienrik for a bottle of water and holds it out, \"Here, Soo-Lin, have a drink of water, it will help. I hope we haven't embarrassed you by being here while you cried.\"\n\n\"My culture says I should, but I only feel relief at being able to cry.\"\n\n\"You must have held it in for many years.\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Crying is a part of healing the hurt and when you need to cry, please do not hold it in so long, call me, and I will come and we can cry together.\"\n\nSoo-Lin looks at Running Deer in great surprise and it takes her several moments to be able to ask, \"You would come here to cry with me? Why?\"\n\n\"That is part of what I believe it means to be a friend.\"\n\n\"It is so expensive.\"\n\n\"As long as I can afford it, that's how I wish to use my money.\"\n\n\"What does your husband say?\"\n\n\"Hienrik, can I come and visit Soo-Lin whenever she wishes?\"\n\n\"Of course, that's what friends are for.\"\n\n\"See?\"\n\nAfter a very brief pause, Soo-Lin drops her adult cultural restraints, throws her arms around Running Deer, and proclaims, \"Thank you. Oh, thank you,\" and this time, her tears are of joy. When she's mostly recovered, Soo-Lin says, \"You asked me some questions, but I forget what they were.\"\n\n\"Remember, you don't have to answer if you don't want to.\"\n\n\"I understand.\"\n\n\"What parts of your current position do you like the most?\"\n\n\"I like the coordination with the various departments in the hotel to make sure the meeting I am arranging will go smoothly. I also like to meet and help the people from the many different cultures who have meetings here.\"\n\n\"My next question may be a little harder to answer, but we will keep your answer strictly confidential. What parts of your current position do you like the least?\"\n\nSoo-Lin pauses before she answers, \"The enforced formality of what is called business professionalism.\"\n\n\"How would you like to see that changed?\"\n\n\"I grew up on a resort in the Koala Quadrant where my mother worked in the laundry. Most people were there for vacation, but there were still a number of business meetings which were conducted there. When I was a teenager, I would help with the arrangements. It appeared to me that important business was conducted even when the atmosphere was more relaxed and cordial.\"\n\n\"Thank you for your answers. I appreciate your willingness to answer them. If you could stay here for a little while longer, I would like to speak to my husband for a moment in private.\"\n\n\"You do not wish me to leave while you talk?\"\n\n\"No. Someone might find more work for you and then we could not complete our conversation.\"\n\n\"Oh, then I can wait.\"\n\n\"Thank you.\"\n\nRunning Deer and Hienrik step to the corner of the room, face the corner, and speak softly in the Lakota language. They soon return and Running Deer says, \"Soo-Lin, when your contract with the hotel chain expires, we would like to offer you another choice.\"\n\nSince she has no idea what they could be talking about, Soo-Lin hesitates before she responds, \"Another choice?\"\n\n\"Yes, if you do not wish to continue working with the hotel, then we would like you to work for our company.\"\n\nSoo-Lin tries to quickly contain her surprise and asks, \"What would the duties be?\"\n\n\"Arranging business meetings, just as you're doing now, and translating at some of those business meetings. Because the meetings wouldn't be scheduled in one location, the arranging of those meetings would require a lot of coordination with different facilities. Since the position requires some traveling, you could work out of one of our local offices, or you could work out of your own home or office, whichever is more comfortable.\"\n\n\"I do not have my own home, I am provided with room and board at the hotel.\"\n\n\"Then we will help you find a comfortable home.\"\n\nSince she's not sure she can possibly be hearing correctly, Soo-Lin pauses before she says, \"I presume the position would arrange meetings for a particular geographical region.\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Which region?\"\n\n\"The Asian Sector.\"\n\nSoo-Lin's eyes open wide in surprise and she almost stutters as she asks in disbelief, \"The WHOLE Asian Sector?\"\n\nRunning Deer nods her head in confirmation, \"Yes. You could start with one or two quadrants until you're comfortable, but we think you could oversee the sector. We don't have that many meetings, but they are spread around. We want somebody who can bring organization and consistency to the meeting arrangements and we think that person is you. If we grow to have more meetings, then we'll hire assistants for you to train. The work will be hard particularly in dealing with the multitude of cultures and learning how to work with the variety of facilities, but we think that with some effort on your part, you will be excellent.\"\n\nWhile she feels stunned at where the conversation has gone, Soo-Lin still has enough coherent thought to ask, \"May I take some time to consider your offer?\"\n\n\"Of course. I'm sorry, Soo-Lin, I intended to tell you to take your time to think about it and to ask any questions you might have. I don't expect you to make an immediate decision. After all, you've only just met us. If you wish, talk to the hotel manager, Mr. Chin Win-Woo. He worked with us on one of our construction projects a few years ago. You can also talk to the people in our local office. We'll give you a list of people we have worked with in this quadrant who you can contact. You can ask them any questions you wish; what our business is like, how we conduct our business, how we treat our employees, how we work with our customers, or anything else.\"\n\n\"Why me? No, that is the wrong question. You believe that I am qualified, for which I sincerely thank you and hope I would not disappoint you. How did you know of me to ask me?\"\n\n\"You were recommended by David Schmidt. I believe you have worked with him on several occasions, most recently a few weeks ago.\"\n\n\"Yes, I have worked with Sir Schmidt.\"\n\n\"I also believe that he requested you refrain from calling him Sir Schmidt and asked you to call him David.\"\n\nSoo-Lin stares at them then asks, \"How do you know?\"\n\n\"He is our eldest son and he wanted us to speak with you. After speaking with you, we agree with his recommendation and would like you to join our company.\"\n\n\"I . . . I don't know what to say.\"\n\nRunning Deer suggests, \"Just say that you'll think about it. Here is the number for our local office and here is a list of people in the quadrant you can talk to. If you call the local office, they can transfer your call to any of these people so you don't have to pay for the call. Here is where we can be reached through the local office if you have any questions.\"\n\n\"I will think about it, I promise.\"\n\n\"That is all we ask. Well, we have a meeting to go to. Soo-Lin, thank you for thinking about our offer. We will talk to you later.\"\n\nRunning Deer gives Soo-Lin a quick hug and she and Hienrik leave the room.\n\n* * * * *\n\n2134-10-27 (a4)\n\nThat evening, Hienrik and Running Deer chat with Win-Woo after a shared dinner then Hienrik asks, \"Win-Woo, may I interrupt our pleasant conversation for a brief business discussion?\"\n\n\"Of course.\"\n\n\"I wish to inform you that we have offered Soo-Lin a position with our company after her contract expires. If she wishes to stay with the hotel, that is her choice and we will support her. But I didn't want it to look like we were going behind your back to hire your people. We have also recommended that she talk to you to learn more about our company.\"\n\n\"Thank you, Hienrik, for telling me and for offering Soo-Lin a position. I have received a number of commendations about her abilities and not just from David. I'm afraid she won't have a choice to stay with the hotel. The hotel chain executives decided that a business professional appearance would be better enhanced by having only males in managerial positions. The so-called professional climate is getting too chilly for my blood. I'm starting to think that a warmer climate might be more suitable.\"\n\n\"I think we could make some arrangements.\"\n\n\"No, my friend, I would not wish to so impose upon our friendship. If you could take Soo-Lin under your wing, that would be wonderful. Now if you happen to hear of a teaching position, I would happily be in your debt if you would tell me about it.\"\n\n\"Gladly. Do we need to worry about a contract expiration date for you?\"\n\n\"No, my contract has a 'no penalty' termination clause.\"\n\n\"When we were building your school, you were going to have to teach all of the subjects. Do you have a particular subject which you would like to teach, so we can keep our ears open in that direction?\" After that, their conversation goes on to other subjects.\n\nAbout three weeks before her contract is about to expire, Soo-Lin is getting nervous. She knows that the standard practice is for the hotel chain to begin talking to the employee no less than six weeks before the contract expires. Even though Running Deer and Hienrik had encouraged her to speak to the hotel manager, Soo-Lin is quite hesitant, partially due to the stiff relationship she has with her direct boss, the assistant manager. She can't imagine that relationships could be better higher up. A couple of days later, with a hint of a smirk, her boss orders her to report to the manager's office.\n\nWhen she arrives at Win-Woo's office, Soo-Lin knocks on the open door and asks, \"You wished to see me, Sir Manager?\"\n\n\"Yes, Soo-Lin, please close the door and sit down.\"\n\nShe sits down with her back straight and her head lowered in a proper position of humility.\n\nWin-Woo waits for a little while before he says, \"I understand that Mr. Hienrik Schmidt and his wife suggested you speak with me about their company, yet you have not done so. May I ask why?\"\n\nWhile she hopes her bowed head hides her expression of surprise, Soo-Lin pauses before she answers, \"Sir Manager, I did not believe it would be appropriate of me to impose upon your valuable time.\"\n\nIn the quiet of the moment, Win-Woo thinks to himself, \"Spare me from imposed humility.\" Out loud he says, \"I think I can understand your concern. For the duration of our discussion in this room, please refrain from saying 'Sir Manager' all of the time and you are permitted to look up and speak directly.\"\n\n\"Sir . . .\"\n\n\"Yes Soo-Lin, I am serious and you will not be in trouble for following my directions.\"\n\n\"Thank you, sir.\"\n\nAfter he shakes his head when she doesn't look up, Win-Woo goes on, \"After they talked to you, Hienrik and his wife told me they had offered you a position with their company. The reason they told me is they did not want to give me the impression that they were going behind my back and hiring my employees away. Based on what I've seen of your work and the numerous commendations I have received from your customers, I can understand their desire to have you join their company.\"\n\nSoo-Lin's surprise overcomes her hesitancy to ask, \"You have received commendations about my work?\"\n\n\"Yes, didn't the assistant manager tell you?\"\n\n\"He indicated that my work was barely adequate.\"\n\n\"You have been told nothing of your commendations?\"\n\n\"Only one and that was when Sir David Schmidt said he would write one, but I do not know whether or not he did.\"\n\n\"David has written several, the last one written in particularly glowing praise when you filled in for his missing translator.\"\n\n\"I am sorry, I did not know.\"\n\nWin-Woo nods his head then says, \"I think I understand. I wanted to speak with you to see if you had made a decision as to whether you would accept the offer to join the Schmidt's company.\"\n\n\"Their offer sounded very good, but I am hesitant to turn my back on the hotel chain which first hired me and has promoted me to such interesting positions.\"\n\n\"Thank you for speaking clearly. Now it is my turn to speak clearly. I would recommend that you accept the offer from Hienrik Schmidt and his wife.\"\n\nSoo-Lin looks up at him in surprise and asks, \"You do?\"\n\n\"Yes, Soo-Lin. For two reasons; one, they're wonderful people and their company does excellent work and they will help you to excel and treat you like family; two, I am very sorry to tell you, but due to a change in company policy, your contract will not be renewed. If it was my choice, I would have you sign a renewed contract right now, but it is not my choice.\"\n\n\"Thank you for telling me about the contract. I was afraid that was the situation.\" She hesitates then asks, \"You would renew my contract if you could? Why?\"\n\n\"Because you do excellent work and the customers appreciate that. My job is to make the customers happy and when you do your job so well, it makes my job much easier.\"\n\n\"Thank you for telling me. I suppose I will need to accept the offer from Sir Schmidt and Lady Schmidt.\"\n\n\"Soo-Lin, I know it looks like you have no other choice at this time, but if you had one hundred other choices, I would still recommend that you accept their offer. One word of advice, get used to the idea of calling them by their given names, Hienrik and Running Deer.\"\n\n\"Running Deer? That is an . . . uh . . .\"\n\nWin-Woo suggests, \"An unusual name?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"She is from the Western Sector and Hienrik was born in the Deutsche Quadrant to parents from the African Sector. When you have a chance, ask them about how they met, it's a fascinating story. I'm sorry, but I believe that we both have other duties to attend to. Please stop by again before you begin to work for the Schmidt's company.\"\n\n\"Thank you, sir.\"\n\nRobert takes another drink and brings the conversation to the present, \"That's how your mother and father met and how Soo-Lin joined the company. Within a few short months, Soo-Lin demonstrated her excellence and David was so proud of her and that he had recommended her, he gave the impression that he had trained her from childhood, instead of just recognizing her abilities. A few months later, they were married. That's pretty much the private side of the company history. The public history is available in a number of documents I can let you review. And you're always welcome to ask more questions when you think of them.\"\n\n\"Thank you, Dad, that was wonderful and it gives me a much better understanding of my mother and father as real people. One thing which has stood out to me through your stories is that the family has an awareness of the world as a whole, while in my sheltered corner, I have the impression that everyone has a nice home with running water, indoor toilets, and plenty to eat. I've seen some news stories of people who live in much poorer conditions, but it might as well be a movie for the personal impact it has on me. Do you think it will be possible for me to go work on one of the construction projects some time?\"\n\n\"I think the possibility is increasing. Your grandparents and I talked about you going several years ago, but your mom was adamantly opposed to it. I think that as you demonstrate your maturity and independence in college, your mom may have less reason to oppose you going on a project. In a year or so, we could probably also make a strong case for it being a practical element of your college education. Even if we don't have a project in a safe area to calm your mom's fears, there are a lot of projects with our daughter companies which are in safe areas. Part of it will depend on how long you want to interrupt your classroom education and what you can bring to a project.\n\n\"You might start looking at our database of requested technicians for projects. They generally don't need unskilled labor, but if you can bring a skill or knowledge to a project, the people working on the project will usually be very helpful. That doesn't necessarily mean a college degree. Some of the people on a project team have little formal education, so almost any specialized training is very welcome. The most obvious are engineering and construction, closely following by medicine, agriculture, technology, and education.\"\n\n\"Thanks, Dad. I'll have to think about what I could add to a project. I would feel both silly and guilty about spending a lot of money to work on a project when all I could operate was a shovel.\"\n\n\"Don't think of it as a shovel. Think of it as a portable independently operated excavation device. People will be amazed that you can operate what must be a complicated piece of machinery. When they see your excavation device and say that it looks like a shovel and it works like a shovel, you can go into a long winded explanation that appearances can be deceiving and that your excavation device is a product of many years of high tech engineering to develop the right materials, to conduct the extensive testing, and to design the shape for the most efficient functionality. If your explanation is good enough, you can be selling five credit shovels for fifty credits each and have your purchaser go away happy.\"\n\nSharlene looks at him in surprise even as she thinks he might be teasing her before she says, \"Nobody's that stupid.\"\n\n\"Sorry, honey, but businesses do it to the government and private citizens all of the time. Compare the ingredients of a store brand shampoo with some fancy salon brand. About the only difference is added perfume and packaging. Or compare the differences in a pair of jeans from a discount store and some exclusive designer.\"\n\n\"You're right. I didn't think of it in those terms. If your sales pitch is good enough, you can sell almost anything to a lot of people.\"\n\nRobert nods his head in agreement then says, \"And my sales pitch now is that it's time to fix dinner.\"\n\n* * * * *\n\n2135-01-11\n\nSuddenly, it seems like little Angelisa's world has come to a crashing end.\n\nShe had been a happy child as she willingly used a stool to help wash the dishes, but was too small to help with the cooking in the restaurant, even though she was learning the recipes and practicing them in their home kitchen. She was a very curious child and seemed to be always asking questions about almost anything especially about their cultural traditions. When she learned their written language at a younger age than any others, she seemed to devour much of her culture's written history and stories and even spent hours reading through the birth and death records.\n\nShe had loved Mama, Great Aunt Sohneetuh, and Elder Banlohtee who taught her so many wonderful things, but she had adored her Papa and he adored her. When she wasn't busy with learning or doing chores or helping in the restaurant, she was her Papa's shadow.\n\nAnd then he died. Angelisa understood death as well as any child. In their close knit community there were always births and deaths, but it happened to others, it wasn't supposed to happen to her beloved Papa. He wasn't white haired like the ancients, he wasn't feeble, he was her strong and caring Papa. Angelisa was devastated. She would huddle in her Mama's arms the few times Maria wasn't too busy or when she wasn't accusing her Mama and everyone else of letting her Papa die.\n\nFor a few months, Angelisa had lived with Great Aunt Sohneetuh while she went through the motions of helping to mix the dyes for her great aunt's weaving and whatever other chores she was given. Eventually, she had settled down and accepted her fate. After she apologized to her Mama, Angelisa had moved back home and became a dutiful daughter, but seldom smiled.\n\nShe had never been comfortable around lots of people which was made more difficult in a community which was mostly relatives to one degree or another, but after her Papa's death, Angelisa became even more of a loner and would find the most unusual of hiding places just to have some peace with the few books she could borrow.\n\nNow, the worst thing of all, her Mama has sent her to that place other people call 'school'. Since she's no longer able to learn at home because Maria is busy trying to keep the restaurant going, Angelisa has to be with multitudes of other children. There are so many of them it makes her feel like she has wriggly worms in her clothes. They even speak a different language, she knows a little of it, but what they write looks like a combination of straight and curved lines which apparently have no meaning. She was beginning to think the day would never end, but when the final bell of the school day rings, Angelisa heads straight home and to her bed where she cries her eyes out at the unfairness of life.\n\n* * * * *\n\n2135-10-15\n\nA few days before Sharlene graduates from the community college, as they clear the table after dinner, Robert grins at her and asks, \"Well, kiddo, are you going to take some time off and lay around on the beach to get a tan before you go to the university at the first of the year?\"\n\n\"What do I need a tan for? Dad, you wouldn't believe how many female students ask me which tanning salon I go to for a tan. When I tell them I received my tan from my parents, they either look at me strange or they ask me if it's listed online. They're in college and older than me. Sometimes I think the only thing they use their brains for is fertilizer for their hair.\"\n\nRobert quickly sets the dirty dishes down to keep from dropping them, grabs his belly, and bursts into laughter. While Sarah warmly smiles and hugs Sharlene, he finally controls his laughter then says, \"That's rich, fertilizer for their hair. I've got to remember that one. Thank you, Sharlene.\"\n\n\"Well, I did want to talk to you guys about this term break. There's an independent study class offered by the university I would like to take which would satisfy one of my social sciences and humanities requirements. It's called, 'How The Past Affects Who You Are,' and requires the student to collect oral histories from their grandparents and other relatives to find out how they lived and what their traditions are and figure out how those elements affect who we are today. Besides fulfilling a class requirement, it's something I'm interested in. I also figured it would be an opportunity for me to practice some independence in arranging the travel and coordinating the visits. Mom, you've been talking about visiting Grandma Lucy and Grandpa Mak over the New Year holiday. Maybe we could go together and make it partly a girl's vacation. I'm guessing I'll need to spend a week with them.\"\n\nSarah exclaims, \"That's a wonderful idea. Make the arrangements with your dad and I'll check with your grandparents about when it would be a good time for us to visit.\"\n\nAfter Sarah leaves the room, Robert turns to her and exclaims, \"Well done, Sharlene. You made a bid for independence and included her as a part of it. Any other approach and she would have had a bunch of objections. How did you want to handle it?\"\n\n\"I was thinking roughly one week with each set of grandparents, one week researching my mother's parents and two weeks to write up the paper.\"\n\n\"I can save you some time with your research. Your father encouraged your mother to write down everything she could remember about her mother and what her mother told her. In fact, she always carried a notebook with her to jot down things as she remembered them. I'm sorry I didn't think of showing it to you last year when we talked about your mother's history. It's not pleasant reading some times, but it does shed light on who your grandmother was, at least through your mother's eyes.\"\n\n\"Do you know anything about my mother's father?\"\n\nRobert shakes his head before he explains, \"No. When your mother and father wanted to get married, that meant extra paperwork because they were citizens of different sectors. When they went through the box of papers and mementos that Soo-Lin had from her mother, they were surprised to find two birth certificates. One was an Asian Sector birth certificate signed by a Thai Quadrant doctor without the father's name listed which wasn't uncommon considering the circumstances. The second was a European Sector birth certificate signed by the European consulate doctor with something like 'John Smith' listed as the father. They used the Asian birth certificate for their marriage and immigration paperwork and asked me to research the European birth certificate.\n\n\"It was a proper European birth certificate, it had both your mother's and her mother's names on it correctly, and the doctor's name was identifiable. But there hadn't been a 'John Smith' serving in the European consulate within five years of your mother's birth. We were able to discretely locate the doctor, but he had had a stroke a couple of years before and his memory of that time period was gone. We also used the one picture Soo-Lin had of her father and checked the consulate records, but there was no match. We even tried using facial recognition software a few years ago and discretely researched those people who had a number of facial similarities and found out that none of them were anywhere near the Thai Quadrant during the time or for the length of time that Soo-Lin remembered Sha-Lin talking about. We finally gave it up as a lost cause.\"\n\n\"So, Grandfather I-don't-know-his-name really is a mystery man.\"\n\nRobert nods his head as he confirms, \"Yes. We figured he must have had some relationship with the European consulate unless he had some other kind of influence over the doctor.\"\n\n\"Maybe he was a spy or a secret agent.\"\n\n\"That could be, but he would have had a hard time sneaking around where it was clear he wasn't a native.\"\n\n\"That would be a problem. Oh, well, I guess we'll never know. Since my mother wrote down what she remembered about her mother, and you've done the research on her father, that will save me a bunch of time and effort. I suppose it will give me more time to spend with my known grandparents.\"\n\n\"Or you could visit your great grandparents.\"\n\nSharlene looks at him in surprise then asks, \"All of the way to the African Sector?\"\n\n\"Well, they're not healthy enough to travel here. And I would like to see them again.\"\n\n\"That would be great. I haven't seen them for several years.\"\n\n\"Something else you might think about is talking to your grandma Running Deer about the background for the coming of age ceremony she led you through a few months ago. Even if you don't write about the ceremony, if you know more about how it developed and the meaning of the various activities, that will add a personal dimension to your class about family traditions.\"\n\n\"That's a good idea. Do you know if Great Grandma and Great Grandpa have similar traditions in the African Sector?\"\n\n\"I don't know for sure. You can ask them about it. Something to keep in the back of your head though, is that many African cultures have a more relaxed approach to clothing than you're used to.\"\n\nHis somewhat cryptic statement isn't clear so Sharlene asks, \"Um, I'm not sure I follow.\"\n\n\"I don't want to be too blunt, but a coming of age ceremony is about a girl becoming a woman and when a female has matured into a woman, she's eligible to be married and let eligible males know that she's . . .\"\n\n\"Okay. I think I get the picture. Maybe I can ask about rather than ask to participate. How come you didn't express any concern about the Western culture ceremony Grandma led me through?\"\n\n\"I remember when Uncle Running Bear led me though the male ceremony and from what I've heard of the other Western culture coming of age ceremonies, all of them maintain a strict separation of the genders. I don't know about where your great grandparents live, but some African cultures don't have a strict separation of the genders.\"\n\n\"Oh.\"\n\n\"Yeah. Hold it, maybe you don't have to ask questions which might lead to answers you don't want to hear yet. I'll be right back.\" Robert soon returns and hands a book to Sharlene, \"Here you go. Check out the section on coming of age ceremonies.\"\n\n\"That's a big book. Customs of Northern Plains Cultures by Running Deer Lakota.\" She looks up at him in surprise and asks, \"Grandma wrote this?\"\n\n\"Yep. In this second edition, she included comparisons of the Plains cultures with the customs of cultures from around the world. Every time she went on a construction project, she would search out the local elders and record whatever stories, legends, traditions, or customs they were willing to tell her. Often the local elders were hesitant until she showed them what she had done for her own culture in the first edition of the book and then the stories would flow.\"\n\n\"How come I didn't know Grandma wrote a book? Don't answer, I can guess. Mom didn't want me to have my head filled with primitive superstitions.\"\n\n\"Sorry, kiddo. Your mom didn't talk to your grandma for several years after she saw the dedication of the book.\"\n\n\"The dedication?\" She opens the book and reads what's written, \"It says, 'Dedicated to Sharlene, may the spirits of your parents continue in you.' Grandma dedicated her book to me?\"\n\nRobert nods his head as he answers, \"That's right. The final copy was sent to the printer just a few months after you were born and shortly after we found out how your name was spelled on your birth certificate, otherwise the dedication would have read 'Sha-Lin'. By the way, keep that copy, but put it somewhere so your mom won't easily find it. You might take it with you when you see your grandma and have her autograph it for you. She would like that, especially if she knew you had read some of it.\"\n\n\"I would like that too. Either this class is going to be easy with so much of the research done, or it's going to be hard due to how much material I have available.\"\n\n\"I think you'll have fun with it. Since your current classes are winding down, you'll have some time before the term break to start reading the materials which may help you to direct your interviews with the grandparents.\"\n\n\"Do you have any preliminary information or research available about mom's parents?\"\n\nRobert shakes his head then answers, \"I don't know of any written documents. I think they have an online site, but you may know more than what's available there. Basically, when your grandpa Mak took over his father's farm he converted the farm to growing organic food years before it became popular. He and your grandma Lucy had a real struggle making ends meet since only very small health food stores were interested in providing organic food to customers and there were few of those. Most of their produce was sold at the local farmer's market. That's what your mom remembers most about growing up, how tough things were. For her, a luxury was a chocolate candy bar two or three times a year, usually in the fall when the produce was being harvested and sold.\n\n\"When organic food started to become popular, your grandparents were at the front of the curve and theirs was one of the few farms which could supply organic foods. As traditional farms were going out of business or being bought up by agricultural conglomerates, your grandfather borrowed heavily and bought a number of other farms all over and converted them to organic. For him to have farms scattered in the different quadrants and climate zones had two main advantages; one, it allowed him to get more produce to the seller in a fresher condition and at lower costs, and two, growing foods which naturally grew in those areas meant it cost less to produce the food and that more than offset the transportation costs of those particular foods. Your grandfather's gamble paid off and his chain of farms grew to become the largest producer of organic foods of almost every kind of food found in a grocery store.\"\n\n\"I had an idea they were doing pretty good, but they tend to follow Mom's lead and treat me as younger than I am, so I don't hear much in the way of specifics from them. I think I understand what you mean by growing foods where they naturally grow, but can you give me an example?\"\n\nRobert nods his head as he answers, \"Sure. What's your favorite berry?\"\n\nSharlene immediately responds, \"Blackberry.\"\n\n\"Do you see many blackberries growing around where your grandma Running Deer lives?\"\n\n\"No. I think I remember Great Uncle Running Bear tried to grow some since he likes them too, but he gave up because they were too much work for how little he got out of them.\"\n\n\"That's right, but if you go to the middle portion of the western coast of the Western Sector, blackberries grow wild there, sometimes so thick they're like bunches of grapes. So if your grandpa Mak wanted to raise blackberries, he would have a farm there instead of where your grandma Running Deer lives.\"\n\n\"I get it. So instead of babying the food to grow, he would go to where it grows wild and 'farm' it more in the sense of making it easier to harvest. If I remember my geography right, you're referring to the Tahoma Quadrant or those nearby. So blackberries need a mild climate and a lot of soft rain.\"\n\n\"That's right, Sharlene. The rain makes them fat and juicy and some warm sunny days in late summer ripens them quickly. You pick a couple of fat firm berries and pop them in your month, squish down on them, and the flavor explodes. In no time at all, your teeth, lips, and fingers are all purple and there are more berries in your belly than there are in your berry picking can.\"\n\n\"Quiet, Dad, you're making me want some.\"\n\n\"Me, too.\"\n\n\"Was that imagination or memory?\"\n\nRobert smiles then explains, \"Memory. When we were kids, one of the projects Dad was working on was in the Tahoma Quadrant and he took us along. We about lived off of blackberries when we were there. It's a wonder we didn't get sick of them or sick on them. Back to the subject. You'll probably have to wait to get to your mom's parents' to ask them about their history and traditions. I guess your next step will be to contact those you want to visit and find out when it's convenient for them. Hopefully, you won't have to do too much juggling of schedules. Then you'll need to make travel arrangements. If you need any help, holler, but give it a try on your own first. By the way, how's the debit card from your college fund working for you?\"\n\n\"Real well. It's a little strange to just keep using it and remember that it's real money which is being exchanged. Will it be a problem if there's a sudden jump in the amount of money being spent with traveling expenses?\"\n\n\"No. You review your statements. As long as you know where the money is going and keep your receipts, then everything is good. In the highly unlikely event that your trust fund comes under government scrutiny, they come to me as the trustee, I say 'yes, those were educational expenses,' and that's the end of it.\"\n\nSharlene thinks for a moment then grins and suggests, \"So I could go to fancy restaurants every night, buy fancy dresses, and have a chauffeur driven luxury vehicle as long as I could convince you they were educational expenses?\"\n\nRobert nods his head and answers while he tries to hide his own grin, \"That's right. Well, wouldn't it be an education to go to fancy restaurants and have a chauffeur? But then I might need to be bribed with a fancy dinner or two and a ride in that luxury vehicle. Did you have a particular luxury vehicle in mind?\"\n\n\"No, Dad. I just spouted the most ridiculous things I could think of off the top of my head.\"\n\n\"There's a sense of exaggeration in the child? I was beginning to despair that you wouldn't bribe an old man to get what you wanted.\"\n\n\"Oh, Dad,\" she gives him a big hug, \"I love you.\"\n\n* * * * *\n\n2136-07-27\n\nWhen she's handed a tiny infant, Angelisa automatically holds it properly, but in her self-induced fog of ignoring the unpleasantness of life, she has to wonder whose it is.\n\nMaria says, \"Angelisa, say 'hello' to your new brother Huleeoh.\"\n\nShe barely stifles the question of how she has a brother then she vaguely remembers that Maria married Yohseef who cooks for the restaurant. Angelisa looks down, half smiles at the infant, and says, \"Hello, Huleeoh,\" since she knows it's expected, but on the inside, she feels a deeper gloom settle in. This is just what she needs, another person to clutter up their tiny home and to take away more of her Mama's already sparse attention.\n\nAfter she passes the infant on to the next person at the ceremony, Angelisa slips away at the earliest possible moment to her latest undiscovered hiding place to hug a book and her one stuffed toy which is almost beyond repair. Just yesterday, she had had a wonderful surprise immediately followed by a huge disappointment. Her school class had taken a short trip to the public library for a tour and she was astounded at the hundreds of books which lined the shelves. While she looked at a few of the books, she had almost wept at finding they were all in that incomprehensible standard language. The librarian proudly assured her that they did have a few books in other languages, but they were even more incomprehensible.\n\n* * * * *\n\n2142-02-02\n\nAngelisa can speak standard quite well because she has a good ear, but she can't seem to find the key to reading the language, maybe they gave out the key in an earlier grade before she had to start going to school. The few times she had asked her teachers or others for the key, she just received blank expressions. Through sheer force of effort, she had memorized the shapes of a few commonly used words without understanding how the meaning of the lines built up the word. Rather than take the time to help her understand, her teachers thought it was easier to have her give verbal answers and sometimes assigned another student to read any assignments to her, as least enough for the teachers to think they could justify passing her onto the next grade. After all, the other young females of her culture dropped out of school and started having babies as soon as they could.\n\nOne day, she overheard one teacher tell another that even if Angelisa seemed smarter than the average, there wasn't any reason to help her to learn to read since she was destined to become a baby factory, Later that day, Angelisa asked her Mama what they meant. Maria hesitated, then because she realized Angelisa was probably old enough to enter puberty and that she had delayed long enough, Maria started to explain the responsibilities of a woman in their culture.\n\nAs soon as she understood, Angelisa reacted, \"No!! I'm not going to be a baby factory. I'm not going to let some man stick his . . . 'thing' in me. No way!\"\n\nMaria knew when Angelisa was in that kind of a mood there was no reasoning with her. Rather than argue, Maria dropped the subject, but it still came up from time to time, usually at the worst times. Once, in the midst of one of her hormonal swings during puberty, Angelisa had adamantly claimed she was not going to let any man touch her unless he was as safe, as gentle, and as caring as Papa had been. Angelisa wasn't the only one who was in tears after that 'discussion', because Maria remembered Pablo and how wonderful a man he had been.\n\nAs she was beginning to stabilize near the end of her puberty and didn't have to be watched so closely after she tried to steal her uncle's handgun on a few occasions in an attempt to commit suicide, Angelisa was sat down and given an ultimatum, either she improves her grades and demonstrates she's getting an education or she is to drop out of school and begin to have babies. She automatically dismissed the second option and exclaimed, \"But I can't read!\" and burst into tears.\n\nSince she was well aware of the problem, Maria had discussed the situation with a couple of Angelisa's teachers and the school counselor and gave Angelisa a possible option, \"There's an after school reading program at the public library. Maybe they can figure out what your problem is and help you.\"\n\nSo, after the first tutor gave up on her, here she is almost trembling in despair and desperation at being assigned a second tutor, then she has to try to wait patiently as he finishes with another student.\n\nWhen the other student steps away, she steps forward, hesitates, and softly asks, \"Mr. G?\"\n\nHe looks up at her and answers, \"Yes?\"\n\n\"I'm Angelisa. . . . Can you help me learn to read?\"\n\n\"Please sit down. What seems to be the problem?\"\n\nShe cautiously sits, hesitates some more then says, \"I can't read.\"\n\n\"Do you have any idea as to why you can't read?\"\n\n\"Nobody will explain what the lines in the words mean. And when I asked, I got blank looks or an answer like, 'it doesn't matter'. How can something that makes up a word not matter?\"\n\nShe's surprised when he seems to seriously consider her question before he responds, \"Humm. That's an interesting question. . . . When did you start going to school?\"\n\n\"When I was about seven and a half years old.\"\n\nMr. G guesses, \"So the other children were already reading and nobody explained the basics to you, they just expected you to catch on.\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"What did you do before you went to school?\n\n\"I learned at home from Mama and my great aunt.\"\n\n\"Didn't that include reading?\"\n\nAlthough his question seems to be gentle and sincere, Angelisa still reacts, \"Of course, in my language.\"\n\n\"So, you can read your language, but you can't read standard.\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"That narrows the problem down. How well do you read your language?\"\n\n\"Very well, or at least that's what my great aunt tells me. I've read a lot of what is available in our language, even some of the birth and death records.\"\n\n\"Interesting.\" Mr. G thinks for a moment then guesses, \"I assume there's a significant difference in how your language is written and how standard is written.\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Can you give me an example of the difference? Maybe a common phase from standard translated into your language?\"\n\nSince she hadn't expected his question, Angelisa hesitates before she answers, \"I . . . I don't know if that would be allowed.\"\n\n\"I don't want you to break any cultural taboos. If you can ask someone in authority for permission, maybe a brief explanation of how your language is written might help me to understand why standard is difficult for you.\"\n\n\"I can ask.\"\n\nMr. G gently smiles as he says, \"You can't do much more than that. Why don't we have you take a brief test to see what your actual level of reading standard is before we decide how to proceed.\"\n\n\"It's really bad.\"\n\n\"That's okay. I have the impression that you're an intelligent young lady, so if you have a reading problem, it's not because you're dumb. We just need to figure out what the specific problem or misunderstanding is, then figure out a way to solve it or to work around it. Okay?\"\n\nBecause she senses his sincerity, Angelisa responds, \"Okay.\"\n\nWhile most tutors start where the student should be and work backwards which increases the frustration of the student at having their problem emphasized, Mr. G starts at the very basic reading level and advances the student until they start to have trouble. He struggles to control his expression at how soon Angelisa experiences difficulties so he hesitates a moment before he says, \"Thank you. Yes, you do seem to have a problem.\" When he notices her expression, Mr. G quickly assures her, \"Please don't blame yourself. If anyone is to blame, it's the school system for not taking the time to understand your difficulty and to do something about it instead of just pushing you on.\"\n\nSince she's astounded that he puts the blame on someone else instead of on her as everyone else has done, Angelisa almost stutters, \"It's . . . it's not my fault?\"\n\n\"I don't see how it can be, unless you're deliberately refusing to learn to read.\"\n\n\"No! I have to learn to read. I want to learn. I . . . I just have to.\"\n\n\"It's okay. I believe you. . . . Let's try something else.\" Mr. G hands her a simple children's book and requests, \"Try to read this, either out loud or silently, whichever you're comfortable with, and then hand it back when you're done.\"\n\nShe reads it to herself and hands it back.\n\n\"What was the story about?\"\n\nAngelisa tells him.\n\n\"It seems like you comprehend what you're reading.\" Mr. G thinks for a little while then he pulls out a book which is just above her tested reading level and requests, \"Read as far as you can, then show me the first word you don't understand.\"\n\nShe doesn't make it through the first paragraph before she turns the book around and points to a word.\n\n\"Have you ever seen this word before?\"\n\n\"It looks familiar, but there's no understanding connected to it nor do the lines help me to decipher the word.\"\n\n\"You're looking at the letters to tell you something about the word?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\nMr. G points to the simple children's book as he asks, \"Do you look at the letters of these words to tell you about the word?\"\n\n\"I tried, but nothing made sense, nor would anyone explain it. I finally had to just memorize the sequence of the lines. In a book like this,\" she points to the simple children's book, \"the sequence of the lines mostly keep the same meaning, but in a book like this,\" she points to the higher level one, \"the sequence of the lines change their meaning, in ways which don't make sense.\"\n\n\"Humm, . . . so if I write this word,\" he writes 'the' on a piece of paper and turns it around to face her, \"you recognize it as . . .\"\n\n\"The.\"\n\nHe turns the paper back around, writes 'they,' says, \"But this word,\" and turns the paper to her, \"is . . .\"\n\n\"The, letter 'y'.\"\n\n\"Huh? Oh.\" He retrieves the paper, writes, 'theory,' and turns the paper back towards her and asks, \"So then this word would be . . .\"\n\n\"The, or, letter 'y', which doesn't make any sense.\"\n\nMr. G looks at it for a little while before he says, \"I see what you mean. Interesting. . . . I'm going to have to think about this.\"\n\nAngelisa hesitates to ask, \"Do I have that big of a problem?\"\n\n\"I don't think so.\" He thinks about it some more before he goes on, \"It appears to be more of a misconception that because the school system didn't make the effort to discover or correct for so many years, it's going to be harder for you to learn to adjust to it.\"\n\n\"What do I need to do?\"\n\n\"Nothing today. I need to find some materials which might help explain the basics of the standard language. If you're serious about learning to read standard, it's probably going to feel like you have to learn to read from scratch. I'll help as much as I can, but it's going to have to be your decision and your effort. You've taken a big courageous step to admit that you have a problem and to want to do something about it. Every day you work towards solving your problem will be more courageous steps, but it's all up to you.\"\n\nAngelisa quickly answers, \"Yes.\"\n\n\"You can take some time to think about it.\"\n\n\"I've thought about it long enough. I have to do it. I . . . I just have to.\"\n\nMr. G lifts his hand as he assures her, \"I don't need to know your reason, as long as it's important to you. If you want to tell me, that's your choice. Either way, I'll try to help you.\"\n\nSince she's quite surprised at his statement, she asks him, \"Why?\"\n\n\"Because you want to learn to read, because there is so much which can be learned from books, because I love books and can't imagine being deprived of them for what I can learn from them or be entertained by them, and because if a person can't read, they're almost certainly doomed to a life of poverty and I wouldn't wish that on anybody, especially a young person who is just starting out in life and has the potential to accomplish something positive for themselves and others.\"\n\nSince she's stunned that he would think about her in such a positive way, it takes Angelisa awhile to respond, \"Me? Potential?\"\n\nMr. G nods his head as though he has no doubt, \"Of course. I won't say that life will be easy or that opportunities will be available or that you'll always recognize them, but you seem to be intelligent, considerate towards others, honest about yourself, and think about your options instead of just going with the flow. With some work, courage, and positive stubbornness on your part, and some luck, you can do whatever you want with your life.\"\n\nWhile she's still trying to recover from what his unbelievable words might mean to her, Angelisa admits, \"I'm not sure what I want. I just know what I don't want.\"\n\n\"You have to start somewhere. You're young, you have time to figure out what you want to do.\"\n\nShe notices the time and says, \"I have to go. Thank you, Mr. G. Bye.\"\n\n\"It was my pleasure. Goodbye.\"\n\n* * * * *\n\nWhen there's a slowdown in the number of customers in the restaurant, Maria remarks, \"Angelisa, you seem happier. Did you meet a new boy at school?\"\n\n\"Mama! Yuck, no way. No, they assigned me a new tutor at the reading program at the public library and he thinks he may know what my reading problem is. If he can figure it out and help me solve it, maybe I can do better in school.\"\n\n\"He?\"\n\n\"Mama, I'll bet he's older than Grandfather and he didn't even look at me like all of the other men do.\"\n\n\"Oh.\"\n\n\"I told you, Mama, I'm not going to let a man touch me unless he's as safe and as gentle and as caring as Papa was. If I can't find a man like Papa, then I'll be an old maid.\"\n\n\"Don't say that, Baby. If you don't have a man to take care of you, how will you live?\"\n\n\"I'll go to work myself. And before you tell me I can't do that, I need to talk to Great Aunt Sohneetuh.\" She steps away to go into the house where she picks up the phone handset, dials a number, and says, \"Hello, Great Aunt, this is Angelisa.\"\n\n\"Hello, Little Dove. You sound happier.\"\n\n\"It's called hope. I was assigned a new tutor at the public library reading program and he thinks he might be able to figure out why I have a reading problem with standard.\"\n\n\"That is good. Did he say what it was?\"\n\n\"Not specifically. He thinks it may have something to do with the difference between how our language and standard are written.\"\n\n\"That could be. I never could make sense out of those lines and squiggles myself.\"\n\n\"What I was calling about is that he suggested a comparison between the two written languages might help him to understand what my problem is. I wasn't sure it would be proper for me to show him and he said he didn't want me to break any taboos, so he suggested that I ask someone in authority for permission to show him a little of our language. He suggested maybe a common phrase from standard translated into our language as a way to compare them.\"\n\nSohneetuh briefly considers that before she responds, \"Humm. If it might help him to identify your reading problem, then, yes, you have my permission to show him. By the way, do you know who he is?\"\n\nAngelisa shakes her head before she realizes it can't be seen through the phone then verbally responds, \"I don't know. I was just told to address him as Mr. G. What the 'G' stands for, I have no idea.\"\n\n\"I don't recall hearing of a Mr. G. What does he look like?\"\n\n\"He's pale, probably older than Grandfather, has long hair in a ponytail and a beard, is about average height for a man, but a little overweight.\"\n\n\"That narrows the possibilities unless someone moved into the area recently who I haven't heard about. Well, let me know how it goes. If he can help you with your problem, maybe you can teach me to read those squiggles.\"\n\nAngelisa automatically dismisses that possibility as she proclaims, \"Great Aunt, you're my teacher.\"\n\n\"Sometimes teaching goes both ways. Now get a good night's sleep and show our language with pride.\"\n\n\"Yes, Great Aunt. Thank you.\"\n\n* * * * *\n\n2142-02-03\n\nAfter she observes Mr. G work with some of the other students in the after school public library reading program and even gives some gentle advice to a couple of the high school student volunteers, Angelisa hesitates and shyly approaches him as he starts to put his things away for the day. She hesitates a little longer then asks, \"Mr. G?\"\n\nHe looks up and says, \"Yes, um, Angelisa.\"\n\nShe's a little surprised he remembers her name then she quickly recovers and asks, \"Do you have a little time? I don't want to interrupt, but my great aunt gave me permission to show you some of our language in the hope that you can figure out why I can't read standard.\"\n\n\"Of course I have time. Sit down.\"\n\nShe hesitates more before she asks, \"Are you sure? I don't want to interfere with your plans.\"\n\n\"The only plan I have is to go home, fix dinner, and read a book. Whether that happens now or two hours from now, makes no difference.\"\n\n\"Oh. Okay.\" She sits down across the table from him, but is still hesitant. Abruptly, Angelisa pulls out a piece of paper, hands it over to him, and explains, \"Here's a sample of our language. I tried to translate the part of the Cinderella story where the fairy godmother shows up. I don't know how good the translation is, but this is about what it would look like in my culture's language.\"\n\nMr. G looks at it for quite a while before he responds, \"Interesting. I'm certainly no expert at languages, but this seems to be almost pictographic.\"\n\n\"What's that mean?\"\n\n\"A pictographic language is a written language that was based on pictures which over time came to represent phrases or concepts. Yesterday, I think you said something about not being able to decipher the meaning of words in standard from their shapes. Can you explain a couple of these words or symbols to describe what is in your language, but missing from standard?\"\n\nAngelisa hesitates then realizes that's what she needs to do in order for him to be able to understand the differences. She hesitates a little longer then comes around the table to sit next to him in order to more easily point out the elements of her written language instead of working upside down. However, she does move the chair a little further away from him.\n\nAs she explains how each element of each symbol has meaning and how the interaction of the symbols enhance the meaning, he has trouble controlling his expression. It takes him a few moments to realize she's finished speaking and is looking at him with an increasingly worried expression before he responds, \"Fascinating. That's absolutely fascinating. Angelisa, I've had college professors who couldn't explain a language half as well as you just did.\"\n\nSince she's totally unable to accept what he said, she almost harshly says, \"Mr. G, please don't tease me.\"\n\n\"I'm not, I'm serious. You explained your language with more expertise and understanding than college professors who are considered experts in a particular language. You're obviously intelligent, interested in learning, and make the effort to understand what you're learning. I think I understand why you have trouble with the written portion of standard.\"\n\nShe stares at him in surprise and it takes her a few moments to be able to ask, \"Really? Already? What is it?\"\n\nMr. G gently smiles at her enthusiasm before he responds, \"You gave me the key when you explained about the elements of your language. If someone had explained the basic element of standard to you, you would have figured it out a long time ago. Unlike your language which appears to be based on pictures, written standard is based on phonetics.\"\n\n\"Phonetics? What's that?\"\n\n\"The symbols or letters of the language represent sounds.\"\n\n\"Sounds? Not ideas or concepts?\"\n\n\"Nope, just sounds. None of the lines which make up letters or words in standard have any meaning other than to represent sounds while some letters change their sound based on the letters next to them or nearby.\"\n\nShe can't believe that's the answer and has to ask again, \"Sounds? . . . Is it as simple as that?\"\n\n\"Well, I wouldn't call it simple, especially because some letter combinations can have various sounds depending on which language the word originally came from.\"\n\n\"But isn't standard its own language?\"\n\nHe nods his head then explains, \"It is now, but it developed over the centuries and has incorporated many words and concepts from other languages. Sometimes if those other languages used the same or a similar alphabet, then when the word was incorporated into standard, the spelling from the original language was retained, even if it didn't fit with the pronunciation typically used in standard. The traders who started to develop standard were ordinary merchants who were more interested in making money from satisfied customers than they were in making sure the words used consistent spelling or even pronunciation rules.\"\n\n\"Oh. If standard is based on sounds instead of the symbols having a meaning, is there a key that describes which letters make the various sounds?\"\n\n\"Yes. I'm sure you've seen it, but since nobody explained to you how standard is different, you probably didn't understand the purpose of the key.\" He turns and pulls a children's dictionary out from his box. \"This is a basic dictionary and here in the front is what they call the pronunciation guide. This works for most words, but there are always exceptions, so there are quite a few individual words which have to be memorized because they don't fit the patterns.\"\n\n\"I've seen this. So,\" Angelisa randomly opens the dictionary and tries to pronounce a word by flipping back and forth between the word and the pronunciation guide, \"this word is 'e-el-e-p-h-ah-n-t', but the picture is of an elephant.\"\n\n\"Yes. That's one example where the pronunciation guide isn't exact. Instead of looking back and forth between the word and the pronunciation guide, right after the word in parenthesis is the pronunciation of the word using defined letter combinations for specific sounds. Instead of the 'ph' of elephant having a 'puh' sound, it's an 'f' sound. One thing to note is that the pronunciation shown after a word may not always be consistent with how you hear a word used in daily speech because, over time, people tend to slur the sounds of a word.\"\n\nShe struggles to contain her growing hope as she realizes, \"But with the dictionary, I can find a written word I don't recognize, figure out the pronunciation and see if I already know and use the word.\"\n\n\"Yes, or to read the meaning of the word in order to add a new word to your vocabulary.\"\n\n\"Oh. Yeah.\"\n\nAs he recognizes the growing excitement in Angelisa's voice, Mr. G tries to add some realism to the conversation, \"This may be the key to understanding how standard is different from your language, but it's still going to be a lot of work on your part in order to recognize and remember the written words to be able to read well.\"\n\n\"I . . . I know. But without this, I had no hope. This may mean some work, but if it keeps the hope alive, then the work will be rewarded. In the meantime, maybe I can learn some more.\"\n\nHe nods his head as he says, \"That's the idea. Go ahead and hang onto the dictionary and start with . . . these books. When you feel comfortable being able to read these, we'll find you some other books, and if you need some help, don't hesitate to ask. I have lots of time and am always willing to help somebody who is interested in learning to read.\"\n\n\"Thank you, Mr. G. You have no idea how much this means to me. Maybe someday I can tell you.\"\n\n\"As long as you feel it's helpful to you, that's all that matters. As you gain in your ability to read and find types of books which you enjoy reading, let me know and I'll help you find some more along similar lines either here or out of my personal library.\"\n\nAngelisa looks at him in surprise then asks, \"You would share your own books?\"\n\n\"Of course, especially if it helps a young person learn how to read and to enjoy reading.\"\n\n\"I . . . I don't know if I would be allowed to borrow your books, but thank you for the offer. Oops, I'd better get going. Mama is going to expect me home soon.\"\n\n\"Enjoy the rest of your day and I hope you find reading enjoyable.\"\n\n\"I do enjoy reading, I just have to learn to do it in standard. Thank you for finding the key for me to learn standard. . . . Thank you so much, Mr. G.\" Angelisa quickly gathers up her things and leaves, and is both astounded and embarrassed because she feels the urge to hug him which is something she hasn't felt towards any male since her Papa died.\n\n* * * * *\n\nWhen she arrives at home and prepares to help in the restaurant kitchen, Angelisa doesn't even notice Maria's scowl at her being late. As soon as she can, she goes to the phone, dials a number, and as soon as it stops ringing, she says, \"Great Aunt Sohneetuh?\"\n\n\"Yes, Little Dove?\"\n\n\"He found the key.\"\n\n\"Give me a moment to catch up with you. Who's 'he' and what key did he find?\"\n\n\"Mr. G at the public library reading program. He found the key for me to learn to read standard.\"\n\n\"Oh? And what's the key?\"\n\n\"The standard language is . . . 'fo-neh-tik'.\"\n\n\"What's that mean?\"\n\n\"The lines and squiggles which are the letters in standard?\"\n\n\"Yes?\"\n\n\"They don't have individual meanings, they represent sounds.\"\n\nSohneetuh responds with surprise, \"Sounds?\"\n\n\"Yes. Each letter and some combinations of letters of the written language represent the sounds of the spoken language. Now I just need to learn which sounds go with which letter or combination, and I'll be able to read.\"\n\n\"How many sounds are there?\"\n\n\"I don't know, he even warned me that some letters and combination of letters aren't consistent and there will be lots of words to memorize, but it feels like somebody turned on the light switch in a dark room and I can finally see for the first time.\"\n\n\"Oh, Little Dove, I'm so glad. When you can, come show me how they make lines and squiggles talk. And if you can, quietly ask around. I'm even more curious about who this 'Mr. G' is.\"\n\n\"Yes, Great Aunt. Bye.\"\n\nWhen she's in bed, instead of hugging her pillow for comfort or even getting it wet with tears of despair, Angelisa takes some time to work with the dictionary and one of the children's books Mr. G gave her to use and she looks up each word, even the few which she's familiar with, and she sees them in a whole new light.\n\n* * * * *\n\n2142-03-15\n\nAlthough Mr. G claims that her reading has greatly improved, and her understanding of the written standard language is improving, Angelisa finds it frustrating to still be using children's picture books to learn to read while others half her age are reading stories without pictures. She tries to concentrate, but the voice of Mr. G who is reading to some children nearby keeps distracting her. She knows it's not his voice by itself since she's been able to concentrate on her own work at other times when he's read to the other children, even when they laugh at the story. Finally, she closes her book, closes her eyes, and listens. As he reads, the story seems to be projected on the back of her eyelids as though she can see it happening. When he's done reading, she waits until the others leave then she steps over and asks, \"Mr. G, what were you reading?\"\n\n\"Hi, Angelisa. I was reading the first story in The Chronicles of Narian.\"\n\n\"I couldn't help myself, I had to listen and it was as though I could see it like a movie in my head.\"\n\n\"The author does a good job of describing the scene without burying the reader in detail.\"\n\n\"Did the author write any other books?\"\n\n\"Several, but this set is the only thing he wrote for children. Some of his other books are rather philosophical and can be hard for adults to read and understand.\"\n\nAngelisa seems to automatically respond with disappointment, \"Oh.\"\n\nMr. G assures her, \"At the rate you're progressing, you'll be reading this level of book within a year or less. Most children have been reading for five years or more before they're ready to tackle something like this.\"\n\nShe looks at him in surprise then asks, \"Do you really think I'll get that far?\"\n\n\"If you keep working at your reading, you will. Was there something about the story which seemed to be more interesting to you than other stories you're heard?\"\n\n\"It seemed to be easier to picture it in my mind than others, but I think the thing which really made an impression on me is the idea of the children thinking an empty room was quite ordinary while the other characters thought of it as some magical place. Um, what's a wardrobe? I've always thought of a wardrobe as the clothes a person has, but the story made it sound like it was something physical, even with doors.\"\n\n\"What they refer to as a wardrobe in the story is a cabinet a person stores their clothes in, like a closet, except this kind isn't built into the house, but can be moved from place to place.\"\n\n\"Oh. I suppose that would make it more flexible to rearrange a room, but I guess something like that would be rather heavy and not easily moved.\"\n\nMr. G slightly smiles as he responds, \"That's good deductive reasoning.\"\n\n\"What's that mean?\"\n\n\"To take some stated facts and without being told more, to figure something else out which is related to the stated facts. For example, like figuring out that if a cabinet is built large and sturdy enough to hold clothes, especially fur coats as stated in the story, then it's going to be bulky, heavy, and not easily moved.\"\n\nAngelisa responds, \"Oh. Thank you. . . . I suppose I ought to be going. . . . Mr. G, thank you so much for all of your help, it really means a lot to me.\"\n\n\"I'm glad I could help you. Thank yourself. You've been doing all of the work, all I did was suggest something for you to try. You really should be very proud of yourself, first of all, for being willing to admit that you did have a reading problem and then to have the courage to step up and do something about it. Not just once, but day after day. Most people wouldn't make the effort.\"\n\n\"I know. . . . But I just had to.\"\n\n\"For your sake, I'm glad you found a reason to be motivated.\"\n\n\"Thank you again, Mr. G. I really do appreciate it.\"\n\n\"It's been my pleasure to give you a little help. Take care.\"\n\n\"Bye.\" Just before she steps out of the door, Angelisa glances back and marvels that an old man with just a few suggestions and some encouraging words was able to change her life around. How many other adults has she been around who didn't bother or gave up on her before they even tried, simply because of their stereotypical understanding of her culture or her gender. She has to admit that many of her relatives only reinforced that understanding.\n\n* * * * *\n\n2142-08-23\n\nMr. G had been right in his prediction that she would be reading Narian a few months after she had been introduced to it, not that she reads it or similar books well, but when she looks back at where she had been not even seven months ago, her progress is remarkable as she takes a moment to feel a little bit of pride. As she prepares to take another reading test to document her progress, Angelisa takes some time to think about the last year. Definitely one of ups and downs, with the most consistent up being her reading improvement which she thinks is largely due to Mr. G's continuing gentle encouragement.\n\nMaybe it's not bad to others, but the worst times for her are being required to attend the naming ceremonies as yet another of her cousins or other relatives has a child and most of them drop out of school to raise it. And they're starting to be some of her cousins which are the same age as she is or even younger and that means some of the adults are going to be less than subtle in their teasing about when she's going to start having babies. The boys have already started bugging her and offering to 'help' her produce the baby and sometimes describe the things they want to do to her to accomplish it. She just wants to be left alone so she can learn.\n\nAs she glances over at Mr. G who is reading to some of the little children, Angelisa can only feel gratitude and respect for the old man who has given her respect and encouragement. She almost hates to admit it, but he's also become her calm in the storm because he's always gentle, respectful, encouraging, and he always seems to be there, not just for her, but for the other children as well. She sighs and turns her mind back to the present, writes her name on the top of the test, and begins to work her way through it. Sometimes she marvels at how the lines and squiggles of the standard language seem to almost magically take on meaning.\n\n\"Get your hands off my baby!\"\n\nAs she looks up at the shriek, Angelisa sees expressions of confusion all around while Mr. G is just releasing one of the little girls who hugs almost anyone and freely kisses their cheeks. The woman 'protectively' grabs her daughter away from Mr. G while she continues to yell. When a couple of the librarians try to protest and claim that Mr. G is innocent of any wrong-doing, the woman threatens to have them arrested as accomplices. Soon the police arrive, handcuff Mr. G on the woman's accusation, and as he's led off with bowed head, Angelisa, like most of the others, can only stare in disbelief.\n\nAfter awhile, Angelisa numbly gathers her things and walks off without bothering to finish or turn her test in. By the time she arrives home and is unsure of how she got there, her tears have dried, but the cold hand of despair has firmly engulfed her. As she drops onto her bed, she just lays there while the tears come and go until she drifts off into a troubled sleep.\n\n* * * * *\n\nFor three mind numbed days, Angelisa is locked in her own mind and stays in bed and only gets up enough to go to the bathroom. Underneath the pleading voice of Maria who tries to encourage her to get up to eat and drink, Angelisa seems to hear the encouragement of Mr. G as he tells her that she can do anything she wants with some effort on her part which reminds her of the alternate option. She gets up and slowly starts to function while she continually repeats the gentle encouraging words of Mr. G in an effort to hold the despair at bay.\n\n* * * * *\n\n2142-08-29\n\nWhen she drags herself back to the public library for the reading program while she's hoping against hope that Mr. G and his encouragement will be there, Angelisa's despair comes rushing back to find out that he's not there and that nobody has seen or heard from him. Even though some of the others are trying to carry on, everyone is subdued. As she sits alone at one of the tables, Angelisa has to keep biting her lip to avoid yelling at a couple of people who are softly talking nearby about the possibility that Mr. G had committed some sort of child abuse. When she's on the verge of losing control, Angelisa feels something on her arm, lifts and turns her head to see one of the little children gently touch her and hold up a book while she asks, \"Read to me?\"\n\nAngelisa pauses a moment then numbly nods her head. When the child makes it clear she wants to sit on Angelisa's upper legs, she pushes her chair back, helps the child up, and wonders if she's going to be accused of child abuse and, if so, then maybe she can join Mr. G in jail. After she reads a couple of books to the child and a couple of the other children who had wandered over, one of them asks, \"How come Mr. G isn't here?\"\n\nAngelisa hesitates then answers, \"Somebody accused him of doing something bad and the police took him to jail.\"\n\n\"But Mr. G is a good man.\"\n\n\"I know, I know.\"\n\n\"Read 'nother book?\"\n\n\"Okay.\"\n\nShe reads a few more books to the little children and after they go home, Angelisa grabs hold of her courage and goes to the police station to ask about Mr. G. They tell her that he was released and that all charges against him were dropped because he was falsely accused. Angelisa goes home with a much lighter step and feels more like herself and looks forward to seeing Mr. G soon. As she remembers something from one of her history classes, she finds an old piece of black cloth and after she asks for Maria's permission, she cuts it into strips.\n\nThe next day at the public library reading program, when she finds out that Mr. G still hasn't returned, Angelisa ties one of the black strips of cloth around her upper arm. When she explains the reason for the black arm band to someone who asks her, she quickly runs out of strips of fabric in sharing with those who want to protest that Mr. G isn't there.\n\n* * * * *\n\n2142-10-16\n\nDays, then weeks pile up without Mr. G showing up at the public library reading program. Indeed, nobody has seen hide nor hair of him since that infamous day. After another day at the public library reading program where she's stepped into Mr. G's role of reading to the little children, Angelisa is trying to figure out how she can make it clear past the other side of town to where she's heard his home is, when she hears that he was seen at the grocery store. The momentary joy she feels at hearing he was seen is quickly dashed when she hears how despondent he looked and how he was barely civil while he paid for his purchase. Although her heart wants to go to him to give him a little of the encouragement which he's given to her, she can't summon up enough of whatever it might be called to go against her own cultural taboo and that of the larger society which says that a young woman shouldn't visit a single older man without a chaperon.\n\n* * * * *\n\n2142-10-30\n\nAfter she's finished her four years of academics at medical school, Sharlene visits home before she goes to her assigned one year internship which she needs before she can graduate. After several days of indecision, she tracks down her dad and finds him in his basement shop and asks, \"Dad?\"\n\n\"Yes, sweetheart?\"\n\n\"Do you have some time to talk?\"\n\n\"It sounds serious.\"\n\n\"Yes, it is. I think it's time I was told about what happened to Mom.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"When I was born.\"\n\nRobert hesitates before he responds, \"Oh. . . . Are you sure?\"\n\n\"I think so.\"\n\n\"What brought this on?\"\n\nSharlene explains, \"This last term, I attended a seminar on the Physiological and Psychological Effects of Shock. As the professor described the symptoms, I was thinking, 'That's Mom.' Shortly after that, I remembered that Alice had strongly warned me not to talk to Mom about events related to my birth and that my mother's death was a very tragic event for Mom. After Alice's warning, I directly asked Aunt Paula about it, but she refused to talk about it and said I wasn't ready to hear it. When I tried to talk to Grandma Running Deer and Grandpa Hienrik, they said it wasn't for them to tell. After that, I didn't dare bring the subject up to Grandma Lucy and Grandpa Mak. So I forgot about it for several years until the seminar.\n\n\"After I remembered Alice's warning and everyone's refusal to talk about it, I remembered a faint memory from my childhood where I asked Mom for a baby brother like one of my friends and she burst into tears and ran from the room. You came and said that Mom couldn't have any babies. When I asked if you could adopt a baby brother for me, you said something about Mom wanting to give all of her love to me. It seemed like Mom stayed in bed days longer that time then some of the other times. I figure something bad happened to Mom when my mother died. I can make several guesses, but I would prefer to be told the truth rather than go through life wondering which guess might be closest to right.\"\n\nRobert sighs and hesitates for awhile before he responds, \"I'm sure you can make several guesses and most likely one of them will be right. I suppose it is time to tell you. I don't want to be the one to tell you, but it's my responsibility more than anyone else's. Before I begin, Sharlene, I want to make it very clear to you that you were an innocent victim of everything which occurred. You didn't cause it. You didn't influence it. You have nothing to feel guilty about.\n\n\"You weren't told about it when you were younger, because of the very real possibility that you would feel unreasonably guilty about it. It's quite common for children and even teenagers to feel guilty about something bad which happened in their families even when they had nothing to do with it. We wanted to keep you from feeling guilty, so the family agreed not to tell you and that when I thought you were ready to hear it, I would be the one to tell you.\"\n\n\"Thank you, Dad. I appreciate it that the family was trying to shelter me from feeling unnecessary guilt. As I reviewed my guesses, I could imagine that when I was younger I might have felt guilty. I think I'm aware enough now that whatever happened, it occurred when I was a baby and I couldn't have caused it. If, for some reason, I do feel guilty after you tell me, then I need to deal with that myself. I can't rely on you guys to protect me from all of life's difficulties.\"\n\n\"You're right. I really do want to protect my little girl, but you're not a little girl anymore and I can't always protect you myself. Hopefully, we've given you the tools to protect yourself or to recover from whatever you can't avoid.\"\n\n\"I think you have given me the necessary tools. If not, then it's time for me to take the responsibility to find the right tools.\"\n\n\"Oh, Sharlene, I'm so proud of you.\" Robert tightly hugs her then says, \"If David and Soo-Lin could see you now, they would be bursting at the seams with pride. . . . Okay, here we go. Let me give you a little background to set the scene. When I asked your mom to marry me and she agreed, my family welcomed her with open arms. Her parents warmly welcomed me, but, as I had guessed, some of her extended family were less than welcoming and muttered about the mongrelization of good European stock.\"\n\n\"Mom's family?\"\n\nRobert nods his head as he answers, \"Oh, yes. Thankfully, your mom wasn't close to those family members, so it didn't really matter, but the undercurrent was still there. Your mom's sister, your aunt Paula, thought the scandal I caused to the extended family was absolutely delightful. She was kind of the rebel, the black sheep of the family, but she was your mom's strongest supporter. After we were married, I was busy with the company and your mom was involved as a volunteer with a number of charities. We were happy and decided to put off having children for awhile.\n\n\"About two years later, David met Soo-Lin and a few months later asked her to marry him. It didn't take long to get the paperwork settled to enable them to marry, although it seemed like a long time to your father. Right after they were married, they took a honeymoon which included visiting the extended families. Grandpa Thomas and Grandma Martha were delighted with Soo-Lin and according to their cultural traditions, they adopted her into the family which is a stronger cultural bond than marriage.\n\n\"After the honeymoon, they were both very busy with the company. It took a little time for me and your mom to get to know Soo-Lin because they were traveling so much, but soon your mom warmed up to Soo-Lin and not long after that, they were good friends. When your mom's extended family, who had never met Soo-Lin, started muttering in their righteous indignation about David marrying a whore's daughter, your mom told them to bug off, that Soo-Lin was a wonderful person and that it wasn't her fault what her mother had been forced to do.\n\n\"When Soo-Lin became pregnant, they were delighted. They had thought of waiting for a few years, but sometimes pregnancies just seem to happen. David almost quit his job to take care of Soo-Lin and set up a nursery, but Soo-Lin pointed him in the right direction and asked him how he would take care of them if he quit his job. While they were on their honeymoon, they had seen signs in hotels about famous people who had supposedly slept there. They had already picked out names and once they found out you were going to be a girl, your mother had several nightshirts and t-shirts made up which said 'Sha-Lin sleeps here'.\"\n\nHer eyes widen in surprise before she says, \"So that's the story behind the t-shirt in the picture.\"\n\n\"That's right. Your mother and father were so happy and looking forward to having you. Sometimes it took an effort to distract them and bring them back down to earth. A few months after Soo-Lin was pregnant, we found out that your mom was pregnant. We hadn't expected it, but we were happy. Your mom and Soo-Lin became even closer friends and did almost everything together. And then that dreadful night happened. After David called Doctor Chang to say he was taking Soo-Lin to the hospital, he called us and told us the baby was coming faster than expected. So we started to get ready to join them at the hospital. Just as we were about to walk out of the door, a policewoman came, verified who we were, said there had been an accident and would we please go with her. When we questioned her, she said she didn't know anything, except there had been an accident and to come get us.\"\n\nRobert takes a drink before he looks into the past to describe what happened:\n\nWhen we got to the hospital, Doctor Chang met us and wouldn't answer our questions until she led us to a quiet room. We knew she was Soo-Lin's obstetrician because we had met her before and so we assumed something was wrong with you. She held our hands, with tears in her eyes, and as gently as she could, she said, \"Robert and Sarah, I hate to say this, but . . . David and Soo-Lin are dead.\"\n\nThere was stunned silence for a moment, then your mom cried out, \"Noooo!!\" fainted, and miscarried. Almost immediately, the room was filled with people who were trying to save the baby and take care of your mom. It wasn't intended, but I was shoved to the back of the room where I fell into a chair and just sat there.\n\nI don't know how long I sat in that chair in that room in shock even after everyone else had left. Eventually, Doctor Chang found me, sat down next to me, took my hand, and said, \"Robert, Sarah is okay. She's sedated right now. I'm sorry, but we couldn't save your baby.\"\n\nWhat she said must not have registered, because I asked, \"Sarah?\"\n\n\"She's okay.\"\n\n\"The baby?\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, Robert, but we couldn't save him.\"\n\nIt registered then, because I start to cry. After I cried myself out, I asked, \"Him?\"\n\n\"Yes, Robert, your baby was a boy.\" Up until then, we didn't know the gender of our baby because it was too soon to tell from the scans. I think it was several minutes later before I finally asked, \"David and Soo-Lin? What happened?\"\n\n\"They were in a vehicle wreck at the hospital entrance.\"\n\nSince I knew how stormy the weather was, I asked, \"Did David . . . cause . . .\"\n\n\"No, Robert, . . . they were hit by a drunk driver.\"\n\nThe next thing I remembered was that I found myself strapped in a hospital bed with my hands bandaged. Apparently, Doctor Chang had recognized the symptoms and gave me a shot of a tranquilizer, but before it could take full effect, I had gone into a rage and put several holes in the walls of that room. Shortly after I woke up, your mom's obstetrician was there and asked, \"Robert, are you back with us?\"\n\n\"I guess so. What happened?\"\n\nHe told me what I did. I asked if I had hurt Doctor Chang. He said no, just scared her some even though she was somewhat prepared for it. When I asked about your mom, he said she was physically okay, but they were keeping her sedated to help her body heal. He didn't know how the shock would affect her emotionally. After he left, I just laid there and quietly cried.\n\nSometime later, Doctor Chang came to see how I was doing. I was embarrassed to see her and apologized for scaring her. She thanked me for the apology and said it wasn't necessary because rage can be a common reaction to such a shock. Several quiet moments passed before I asked, \"Doctor, are they sure it was David and Soo-Lin?\"\n\n\"Yes, Robert. I recognized Soo-Lin and made the official identification.\"\n\n\"What about David?\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, Robert, but David was too badly injured for me to identify. . . . Do you know if he had any distinguishing marks and scars? Or maybe some unique jewelry he always wore?\"\n\n\"I can't think of any marks or scars. Jewelry? He always wore a ring which Soo-Lin gave him. I'm not sure how unique it was.\"\n\n\"Okay, Robert, I'll tell the police that. Do you think you're up to talking to them?\"\n\n\"I suppose. Uh, Doctor, they couldn't save our baby?\"\n\n\"No, Robert, we tried. He was just too young to survive outside of the womb. I'm sorry.\"\n\n\"Thank you for trying.\" She let me cry for awhile and when I felt a little better, I realized something, \"Uh, Doctor, I don't mean to take up your time, but nobody has said anything about David and Soo-Lin's baby.\"\n\n\"Robert, it's going to be hard for you to hear.\"\n\n\"Say it, Doctor, she's dead.\"\n\n\"No, Robert, she's alive.\"\n\nI was stunned and it took me awhile to react, \"Alive?\"\n\n\"Yes, she was about to be born, Soo-Lin's body protected her during the wreck, and a paramedic was there almost immediately and helped the baby out of the womb. So far, the baby appears to be perfectly healthy.\"\n\nI don't know how long I stared at her before I said, \"Doctor, you've got to be joking.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, Robert, but I don't joke about babies. . . . Robert, I know you've had some tremendous shocks in a few short hours. Your brother and his wife died, your wife collapsed, your baby died. But you have to think about how you're going to respond to your new niece. How are you going to treat her? How is Sarah going to treat her? You're the only family Sha-Lin has in the area. I'm very sorry for your losses, but the living need you now, both Sarah and Sha-Lin. I need to leave to see other patients, but you have some serious thinking to do.\"\n\nRobert returns to the present, takes another drink, and tells what happened afterwards, \"Doctor Chang was right, I did need to set my losses aside and to take care of my wife and you. Later that day, I was able to get up and identify David by his ring which we saved for you. I went to the nursery to see you. Apparently, Alice had held you for hours before Doctor Chang had you taken to the hospital nursery and sent Alice home. While I visited your mom who was still sedated, her doctor came in to check on her.\n\n\"When he was done, he took me out of the room and told me that your mom was healing fine, but that she would never be able to carry a child because her womb was too badly damaged from the miscarriage. He asked permission to remove it. When I asked what would happen if they didn't, he said she was at great risk of infection and that if she miraculously didn't become infected and happened to get pregnant again, the new baby would kill her. So I told him to do what was needed to be done. Years later, when I did some research, I found that I had made the right decision. It was way too late to do anything about it, but I felt better to know I did the right thing.\n\n\"After the surgery and your mom's body had some time to recover, they finally let her wake up. One of the first things she did was to ask for her baby. When I told her that her baby had died, she said, 'Yes, I know, where's my baby?' After a couple of rounds of this, she started to become agitated, so I said, 'The only baby is Soo-Lin's baby.' She said, 'That's my baby. Where's my baby?' So we brought you to her and watched her very closely, but she simply held you, smiled at you, and kept saying, 'My baby,' and you've been her baby ever since. Even before she recovered enough to go home, it was obvious that her personality had changed. We've tried talk therapy, drug therapy, and I don't know how many other things, but nothing has helped. So we've learned to just accept her as she is and go on with life. That's the story.\"\n\n\"Thank you, Dad. I appreciate you telling me. I can't imagine how hard it must have been for you to go through all of that.\"\n\n\"To be honest, Sharlene, if I hadn't have had a lot of help, I never would have made it. Doctor Chang made me sit up and face reality. The police had contacted the lawyer on David's emergency contact list, who happened to be Klara, and she was so calm and thorough. She contacted both sets of parents who immediately flew in. Your mom's folks primarily took care of her, while my folks helped settle the estate and oversaw the lawsuit against the drunk driver's estate. There was so much going on that I was overwhelmed and there were times when I would slip into a blue funk. The family would leave me alone for a day or two and then Dad would come in and tell me, 'Achtung, Robert, yesterday you boy, today you man. Go to vurk.' And I would get up and get to vurk, at least for awhile.\n\n\"It took some time, but we were finally able to function on our own. After the lawsuit was settled and we were more or less operating on an even keel, your mom decided she couldn't tolerate living so near the scene of the tragedy any longer. We moved to near one of our branch offices in the European Sector which was also close to some of her more supportive family members. After a few years, it became obvious that our skin color was going to be a problem and since we didn't want you to be subjected to that kind of discrimination, we moved back here. You know the rest of the story.\"\n\n\"Thank you, Dad,\" Sharlene gives him a hug as she tells him, \"I hope the memory and retelling of the story wasn't too painful.\"\n\nRobert shakes his head as he assures her, \"No. You've been a wonderful daughter. I just wish David and Soo-Lin could have been here to watch you grow up and see the person you've become.\"\n\n* * * * *\n\n2143-09-12\n\nAs she takes a break from cooking and washing dishes in the restaurant after the lunch crowd has left, Angelisa is surprised to see an old white man walk in who looks somewhat familiar. When it dawns on her that it's Mr. G, she has to struggle to not stare at him as she thinks that he looks older and sadder than she remembers. She lets him finish his meal before she walks over and asks, \"Mr. G?\"\n\nHe looks up and seems to search his memory for awhile before he asks, \"Angelisa?\"\n\nShe can't stop the smile from blossoming on her face as she answers, \"That's right.\"\n\n\"You work here?\"\n\n\"It's Mama's restaurant.\"\n\n\"Oh. I didn't know that. She serves good food, but more than I can eat in a single setting.\"\n\n\"Mama doesn't like the idea of anyone leaving her table if they're still hungry.\"\n\nHis gentle smile is just like she remembers while he responds, \"I can believe that. So, how have you been?\"\n\n\"Okay. I'm doing much better in school since you helped me to learn to read. I . . . I can't thank you enough for figuring out my problem and finding the solution.\"\n\nHe drops his head and says, \"Thank you.\" After a little while, he lifts his head to look at her and tells her, \"You wouldn't have succeeded without making the effort yourself. Be proud of yourself. I may have made a suggestion or two, but you were the one who recognized the problem, had the courage to admit it and seek help, then you made the daily effort to improve. . . . Are you really doing better in school?\"\n\n\"Much better.\"\n\n\"That's good.\"\n\nAngelisa explains, \"I still have some more improvement which I need to do with my reading in order to reach where I should be then I'll need to backtrack and learn what I missed when I was just passed from grade to grade.\"\n\n\"I'm sure you can do it. Don't lose hope, keep up the effort, and you can be or do whatever you want in life.\"\n\n\"Thank you for your encouragement, it means a lot to me.\"\n\n\"Thank you for letting me know there's still a reason for hope in this world.\" Mr. G gets up, gathers his leftovers, and encourages her, \"Stay strong, Angelisa, and thank you for your kind words.\" He steps away to pay his bill and leaves her with a gentle smile and a big tip.\n\n* * * * *\n\n2146-04-12\n\nAs days roll into weeks, weeks drag into months, and months crawl into years, Angelisa keeps going while she tries to learn and catch up on all of the education she didn't receive because she wasn't taught how to read and write standard. What she had learned by listening makes a lot more sense when she can read more about the subject and tie the loose ends together which seemed to have been left dangling or not dealt with during the classroom lectures. In spite of her interest in learning new things, the daily routine for her to get up early to go to school and be around a bunch of other people while she tries not to be noticed, then rush home to work at the restaurant during the lunch hour, snatch some time between customers during the afternoon to do homework, work through the busy dinner hour, clean up afterwards, and finally try to do some more homework before she collapses into bed, really dulls the joy of learning.\n\nIt would be so easy to give up and follow the example of her cousins and other acquaintances who just float through school and have fun, even if her definition of fun is different than theirs. Then she reminds herself that the typical consequence for her female relatives is that they get pregnant, become the property through marriage of some male who cares little, have many children, then hope enough children survive to take care of them when life wears them out before they become grandparents.\n\nThankfully, Maria has been somewhat protecting her from the other adults in the culture who want to find a 'nice' boy to turn her into a baby factory. But Maria can't protect her from the girls at school who ostracize her for 'acting better than them' or the boys who, so far only verbally, express how they want to help her make the many babies she would have to take care of on her own. Maybe there is some advantage in having to work so much in the restaurant because there's no time for her to be involved in any of the social or even after-school activities where there is less adult oversight, not that she has any interest in typical social activities, but the restaurant is a useful excuse, except for the work involved and that it leaves her little time to herself.\n\nOccasionally, Angelisa can get away and visit her great aunt, but seldom is it a 'bake cookies and gossip' visit. Even if they bake some sort of treat, it's almost always a part of a lesson about her culture's history, traditions, and language. The best part of visiting her great aunt is the encouragement for her to be herself and to not give into the 'live for today' mind-set of almost everyone around her. She's sure there has to be more to life than mere survival, but she's not sure what it is or how to get it. She knows it won't be found in being a baby factory and it's been made very clear to her that getting an education is her only other option, even if it is only temporary.\n\nThe bright spot of her life is when Mr. G stops by for a meal and she has some time to talk with him. Although it only happens a few times a year, Angelisa treasures those moments as she soaks in his encouraging words. He's always gentle, always treats her as a full person with respect, never talks down to her, always listens to what she has to say, and if he does correct her, he explains why it isn't the way she thought, and usually it's something which wasn't fully explained to her to begin with. And he never looks at her like a man looks at a woman as though he wants to possess or simply use her which makes him virtually unique in her experience.\n\nIt had dawned on her quite a few months ago, when she thought about how much she liked to talk with such an old man, that he was the only person she could label as a friend, at least based on what she thought a friendship should be. But it's not as deep a friendship as she would like, especially with there being such a social stigma against them spending more time together. Even though Maria likes Mr. G and the encouragement he gives to Angelisa, even she frowns if their visit in the public view of the restaurant is more than a very few minutes.\n\nAngelisa knows Mr. G could give her good advice, if she could ask her questions without the risk of being overheard. As she shakes her head, Angelisa just doesn't understand why people seem to be afraid of her spending a little time with him. He's always polite and always maintains a socially proper distance between them. As she thinks back, she remembers that when she was in the reading program, some of the older girls tried to get his attention because they thought he had money, but he always kept his distance and sometimes went out of his way to do so. And that was before he was falsely accused of child molestation. Since then, he's made an even bigger effort to avoid contact.\n\nAs she reminds herself to quit daydreaming and get back to her homework, Angelisa picks up her pencil and starts to work on the next geometry problem. A little later when she hears the restaurant door open, she finishes writing an equation, looks up and restricts herself to a simple lifting of her hand in a greeting to Mr. G who had just walked in. He talks to Maria for a couple of minutes and gives his order and when he turns to look for a table, she waves him over to hers.\n\nWhen he gets close enough, he says, \"Hello, Angelisa. How are you doing?\"\n\n\"I'm doing fine, Mr. G.\"\n\n\"That's good.\" He starts to sit at another table.\n\n\"You can sit here if you want.\"\n\nHe hesitates then says, \"I don't want to interrupt your school work.\"\n\n\"I could use a bit of a break.\"\n\n\"Okay.\" He sits down across from her and asks, \"So, how's school going?\"\n\n\"It's getting better in the sense that I'm learning more and getting better grades. However, it's not fun when I have to interact with the other students who aren't interested in learning.\"\n\nMr. G nods his head as he says, \"Yeah, that can be difficult. Either you conform to some group and become like a puppet to the strongest personality in the group, or you try to be an individual and are considered to be an outcast by all of the groups. They think you're not good enough to be in their group, while they accuse you of acting like you're too good for them, yet the truth is, you just want to be left alone.\"\n\n\"That's it exactly.\"\n\nHe glances at her book and paper and asks, \"Geometry? How do you like it?\"\n\n\"It's interesting. It's taking me awhile to learn the formulas, but it helps me to understand how containers of very different shapes can hold the same amount of material.\"\n\n\"I hadn't thought about it from that perspective. I suppose that working in a kitchen with the various ingredients might raise the question of whether one container really does hold the same amount as another container.\"\n\n\"Yeah. It's funny how the shape of a container can give the impression that there's more product than another container. Excuse me for a moment.\" Angelisa gets up, is soon back with his food, says, \"Here you go. Enjoy,\" and sits back down.\n\n\"Oh, thank you. I can move to a different table so you don't have to watch me eat.\"\n\n\"Mr. G, I watch people eat all day long.\"\n\nHe thinks for a moment then says, \"Oh, yeah. Sorry.\"\n\nShe just grins at him as he slowly smiles then she tells him, \"Besides, I don't often get to talk to someone who is so willing to listen.\"\n\n\"I'm all ears,\" he picks up a fork full of food, \"and mouth.\"\n\nAngelisa chuckles and talks more about her other classes while she enjoys his encouraging words and thoughtful questions. A couple of times she gets up to refill his drink and then to get a takeout box for his leftovers.\n\n\"Thank you for listening to me, Mr. G, I really appreciate it.\"\n\n\"It was my pleasure. I always like to hear how you're progressing. I continue to be amazed at your effort and determination to get an education and at how well you've succeeded.\"\n\nShe assures him, \"If it wasn't for you being interested enough in helping me and to take the time to figure out why I couldn't read standard then encouraging me as I struggled, I would have dropped out of school a long time ago.\"\n\n\"I was glad to do what little I could, but you're the one who realized you had a problem, had enough courage to admit it, and then made the effort day after day to fix the problem.\"\n\n\"Why is it that we go back and forth on who deserves the credit for helping me to learn to read and be able to get an education?\"\n\nMr. G tries to look at her sternly as he tells her, \"Probably because a certain young lady refuses to listen to the wisdom of an ancient one.\"\n\nShe just laughs and enjoys his answering smile.\n\n\"I probably ought to be going and not interrupt you any longer.\"\n\n\"You weren't interrupting me. I enjoyed the opportunity to have someone listen to me and talk with me.\"\n\nHe stands up as he says, \"Angelisa, you have every right to be proud of yourself, and I'm proud of what you've accomplished. Thank you for being willing to tell me how you're succeeding. Keep up your hope and your future will be bright with opportunities.\"\n\nAngelisa stands up and struggles not to hug him as she responds, \"Thank you for your encouragement, Mr. G. The hope would be much harder to maintain without your support.\"\n\nHe blushes a little and lowers his head. A moment later, he lifts his head with a gentle smile and says, \"Thank you. Take care of yourself, Angelisa. Bye.\"\n\n\"Take care, Mr. G.\" She lowers her voice to a whisper and adds, \"my friend.\" She watches him pay for his meal then just before he steps out of the door, he turns and raises an arm in farewell. She quickly raises one of her arms in response then sits down. As before, she feels joy at having had a chance to visit with him and sadness at how long it will probably be before she sees him again. And as she's noted before, both feelings seem to be a little stronger than after his previous visit. Angelisa takes a few minutes to review their conversation then she has to force herself to finish her math homework. Before she can start on the homework for another class, it's time to help in the kitchen before the customers start arriving for the dinner hour.\n\nAbout the writer:\n\nAfter decades of doing office work from which he escaped to read books and occasionally write something in the evenings or on the weekends, this writer was finally able to retire and move back to the dry heat land of saguaros, Gila monsters, and bark scorpions (while they can be a low maintenance pet, they are not amenable to leash training).\n\nIf you liked this story, please tell your friends about it and leave a review. You can also contact this writer at geoff_schultz_01@yahoo.com.\n\n", "meta": {"pile_set_name": "BookCorpus2"}}
{"text": " \nThe Hacker Chasing Gemstones from Sierra to the Baltic Sea\n\nBy Stieve I Adams\n\nSMASHWORDS EDITION\n\n* * * * *\n\nPUBLISHED BY:\n\nStieve I Adams\n\nThe Hacker Chasing Gemstones from Sierra to the Baltic Sea\n\nCopyright © 2013 by Stieve I Adams\n\nThank you for downloading this free eBook. Although this is a free book, it remains the copyrighted property of the author and may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed for any commercial or non-commercial use without permission from the author. Quotes used in reviews are the exception. No alteration of content is allowed. If you enjoyed this book, then encourage your friends to download their own free copy.\n\nYour support and respect for the property of this author is appreciated.\n\nThis book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are products of the author's imagination and used fictitiously.\n\n* * * * *\nThe Hacker Chasing Gemstones from Sierra to the Baltic Sea\n\nAgain an old-fashioned adventure novel filled with international villains, beautiful women and noble adventurers. The play takes place in a number of exotic countries in at least three continents. Beginning in Singapore, the voyage goes via the South Africa and Dubai to the Baltic Sea.\n\nHamilton Jones, an unsuspecting computer salesman from Scotland, is being persuaded by the former finance minister's wife to find a lot of gemstones stolen from Sierra Leone. It turns out that some international financial puppies but doubtful background are trying to exploit the wealth of their shady business.\n\n© Stieve I Adams, 2013 /2019\n\nstieve.i.adams@gmail.com\n\nProlog\n\nIt is my pleasure to contact you at this time for an urgent business relationship/an appeal to come to my aid.\n\nI got your company contact information from trade magazines that I read in a refugee camp in Guinea, West Africa.\n\nI am Mrs. MABINTI CHRISTIAN KARGBO from Sierra Leone, the wife of former Central Bank Governor Christian KARGBO during the short time of 10 months of Government with Major Paul Johnny Koromah (1997/1998).\n\nMy husband was executed by President Ahmed Tejan Karbah in 1998 along with a few other suspects who have given support to the rebel regime led by Major Paul Koromah for a coup against his Government in May 1997 before Ecomog troops restored him as president of Sierra Leone.\n\nBecause of my husband's death I took with me some of my children at a refugee camp in a neighbouring country, the Republic of Guinea.\n\nThree weeks ago when I privately came back to Sierra Leone, I discovered some family members and secret documents that belonged to my late husband in his underground safe in our village.\n\nAmong these documents are a certificate of the deposit of three drawers, where family assets being held by a known security companies in one of the European countries. In the last four nights have exchanged telephone and fax with the company which is currently awaiting our arrival to come get the cartons.\n\nThe attached document is an instruction to the actual contents of the boxes, there are three boxes containing precious stones worth $46800000.00 (forty-six million eight hundred thousand us dollars).\n\nI am contacting you because I need your support to manage investments in your country because my experience is very limited in such matters. I will come to your country, when everything is ready, I will compensate you for the work done.\n\nWhen you receive this mail, reply me and leave your telephone and fax numbers to facilitate communication, and I will provide all the information you need, before I move from Sierra Leone to Europe.\n\nBecause of the uncertain situation in my country (Sierra Leone), answer me only to these private lines:  \nxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx\n\nI expect a quick reply,\n\nGreetings.  \nMrs. Mabinti Christian Kargbo\n\nLondon\n\nI got an e-mail from someone who wanted help with placing forty-six million dollars. Everyone knows that these types of letters are scams. When I got this message in my mail box, I found, however, that it would be interesting to follow up on it. I had previously been in contact with a person who has been in the country, so why not lift the handset.\n\nI was so curious and rang Mrs. Kargbo at one of the designated phone numbers. The phone line was not very good, but the woman in Sierra Leone spoke fine English. She seemed to be very happy that I took the trouble to call to Africa. We quickly agreed to meet in London, she would get there next week. I would in any case to London to a data conference.\n\nCurious, I went to the swanky hotel near Hyde Park, notified me at the reception and then a heavy bodyguard from Africa appeared to escort me to Mrs. Kargbo, the wife of the executed Head of the Central Bank. I didn't know really what I expected, she spoke English as if she was educated in Oxford, but there are lots of foreign students there from all corners of the globe.\n\nThe Bank Manager's wife rented a suite at the hotel, in the outer room, I was searched by the bodyguard and then handed over to a female African bodyguard who in turn escorted me to the next room. So far, it was well no surprises, but when I met the next woman I was dumbfounded.\n\nIt turned out that the bank manager's wife not only had studied in England, she was very English. She was good-looking, well-dressed, probably 180 cm long and very white.\n\n\"Oh dear,\" I blurt out, \"it was really a surprise. If it is you who is Mrs. Kargbo, of course\".\n\n\"Mr. Jones\", she greets, \"why should it be so strange with an English who was married to an African Central Bank Governor?\"\n\n\"Well,\" said I, \"with the bloody history that exists in Sierra Leone, I had not expected anything other than Africans involved.\"\n\nMrs. Kargbo offers black tea and tells the story of her husband, the Governor and his own part in this bloody civil war. Now it is so that the violence in Northern Ireland and the Basque country a big headlines as soon as someone is killed. In Africa, the last mass murder that gets very little attention so long as there is no European or American involved.\n\nAt the beginning of 1996 was elected Ahmad Tejan Kabbah to Sierra Leone's president. With the intervention of Nigerian troops and Russian helicopters fought Revolutionary United Front (RUF). In February 1997, led Major Johnny Paul Koroma, 33 years old, a successful military coup. Dressed in a t-shirt and baseball hat, he led the military junta that took over power.\n\nThe former Finance Minister was tortured and Paul Koroma schoolmate from the village school, Christian Kargbo, got the offer to become the head of the Cental bank. Koroma was himself only a disgruntled military with low education. Christian Kargbo did not know very much about economics but he was married to Naimee, a well-educated British.\n\n\"Actually, it was me who was head of the Central Bank,\" confides me Mrs. Naimee Kargbo, \"it was I who titled vice president led the daily work at the Bank.\"\n\nMr. Kargbo lived life's happy days together with the rest of the military junta, funded directly by funds from the Central Bank. Ever since the former President tried to regain power with the help of troops from neighboring countries, it was clear that the military junta would be short-lived.\n\nIn that position Mr. Kargbo gently plunder the Central Bank on foreign currency, mainly dollars and pounds. After all, there was some money in bank vaults, the former Governor had managed to keep the economy above water despite all the corruption and civil war.\n\nOne reason why there were still assets in bank vaults were diamonds, in the country, there are significant assets of the diamonds were extracted with the help of American and British companies. The unrest, however, had led to the Americans and the British are low.\n\nSomewhere in Europe would be three boxes containing diamonds worth 46 million U.S. dollars. This is where it starts to get interesting, where are the drawers and how would one go about.\n\n\"No problem,\" declares Naimee. \"I'll take with me the deposit documents to the Bank, we take out the drawers and with your help, I want to invest in Europe.\"\n\n\"It sounds far too easily.\" why don't you grab a few of your bodyguards, the receipts out boxes and allows an appropriate bank to place the money in real estate, the stock market or something else? \"\n\nMr. Kargbo had tangled to it so that the boxes could only be retrieved by two reliable people, one was Mrs. Kargbo, the other would be one of Mr. Kargbo designated Englishman provided that Mr. Kargbo was no longer alive.\n\n\"But the Englishman is not me.\" Now starts the hard part, I think. \"Firstly, I am a Scotsman ...\"\n\n\"But you can help me to find him,\" States Naimee.\n\n\"Why me?\" I ask more and more confused.\n\nAt the time that Mr. Kargbo was a young officer in the Sierra Leone army were British officers as trainers. One of these, Randolph Jameson, became something of an idol of Mr. Kargbo, because he was honest and unbridled.\n\n\"Because I don't want to take the help of an official instance, they ask for a lot, I think that a man with your background would lend itself very well to lead the search for Randolph. Now we go down in the dining room and eat a good dinner at my expense while considering my offer. \"\n\nSingapore\n\nStrange are the ways of the Lord, or whatever it's called. Mrs. Kargbo, Naimee, and I ate a delicious dinner in the hotel's dining room. She was very pleasant and urbane, Naimee. Actually, I felt a certain Sir Randolph, could it possibly be the same man? A typical English gentleman with drooping ginger colored mustache?\n\nWe eventually agreed that it could be the same man. Why could not just call him Naimee, e-mail him or maybe write a letter? The thing was that this sir Randolph seemed to be missing from the face of the Earth.\n\nI had not long ago been supporting together with him in Singapore, of all places. How it was so she managed to persuade me to try and locate him Sir Randolph. Naimee had a very strong powers of persuasion which I eventually would suffer several times. I followed her up to it has charm, thanked with a light kiss on the cheek and a warm hug, all under the supervision of the female bodyguards. However, she blinked in a seductive way, I thought, when the bodyguard turned his back on her.\n\nApart from a delicious dinner, it seemed to be a little fishy about the whole story. It was, after all, a so called a Nigerian letter, an advance-fee scam. I was surprised that I would go on such a simple feint. But, that said, Naimee had a certain power of persuasion. Therefore, I thought I'd make an effort when I came to the Office the next morning.\n\nI called our branch in Singapore that they would make an attempt to locate Sir Randolph if he could remain in the country. After a few hours, they returned with the news that he was unable to locate via telephone registries or agencies.\n\nWell, I called up Naimee and we agreed to once again meet and eat dinner so we could discuss further.\n\n\"You have a lot to do at work?\" asks Naimee.\n\n\"Njaee\", was the reply, \"right now I am looking for new business opportunities, that is, new customers, often in other countries.\"\n\n\"Great! I can give some tips on international customers. In Singapore, for example. \"\n\n\"Gee, it seems you want to utilize my services!\"\n\nShe seems to be used to do business, Naimee. It also seems that if she won't get his will through.\n\n\"In short, I want to make a consulting agreement with you. I pay well. Apart from that, I have some business contacts in the Singapore area, so maybe you could look for any traces of Sir Randolph? \"\n\nIn short, I have been in Singapore in the past, there was no business, but other adventures in fact. Sure, find customers for data systems can I do in Singapore. On the whole, the Asian market is very interesting.\n\nWe agreed to sleep on it, and that we would meet at her hotel the next day.\n\nTwo days later I was back in China town in Singapore to look for someone who might know where his friend Randolph could bee. I was hoping that my previous contact, tug boat skipper Bjorn would be available. Of course, I had been searching the Internet to try to find if his boat was left. That it should be so difficult in this digital world to look for something as simple as an English gentleman who could possibly be in this city. In and of itself, it lives well nearly five million people here, but not so many British look.\n\nAnyway, I took a taxi to try to hit Björn who formerly lived in the Geylang area. I get stopped by a powerful Chinese who exclaims\n\n\"Hello mister Ham, are you here again? Looking for mister Bjorn understood? \"\n\nWonderful, this man, I had not seen in years — and he recognized me instantly! Of course I was looking for Björn, but he was somewhere else, or maybe he hasn't lived. Information from Hu was slightly confusing, he did not say where Björn was until he had found out what I really wanted him.\n\n\"Sure, I would like to meet Björn, but really I am looking for a British gentleman, sir Randolph, we used to hang out with in the past. He has a droopy mustache of an indefinite ginger color ... \"\n\n\"Sure, Mister Ham, I remember very well his British upstart. I think I know he bought a new boat and is out there and sail somewhere. The boat named Charlotte Victoria, probably registered in the Bahamas. Flags of convenience, of course.\n\nI have my little portable tiny computer available, but a search of the boat's name gives no result. But with a taxi, do I get to the Harbour Office, where a friendly harbour master informs me that Sir Randolph with the boat Charlotte Victoria, sailed a few weeks ago. The boat was of the type Hallberg-Rassy Monsoon, 10 meters long and equipped with a 25-horsepower Volvo Penta engine. Manufactured on the island Orust in Sweden of all places. One can ask why he sailed with a relatively simple and small boat, but maybe he was hungry for adventure. Probably he was alone on board.\n\nHe had taken aim at Africa, perhaps on the road around the world. Raffe had been prudent enough to give out his phone number and email address. Now can all be accessed anywhere on the Earth's surface. Theoretically, anyway. In practice, it turned out that it could not produce any signal. OK, we write well an email then.\n\nTo: randolphII@gmail.com\n\nTopic: Naimee\n\nHi Raffe – Hamilton here. Thank you for last, hope you picked up from hardships in the Strait of Malacca. Our mutual friend Naimee looking for you, please let me know by email or call me on + 004412345678!\n\nDrive carefully!\n\n(it was unnecessary with the details, you can read other people's mail if you are good at such things)\n\nOf course, I had booked a room at the exclusive Raffles. Rooms and rooms, it was actually a Palm Court Suite with veranda facing the courtyard. Rudyard Kipling, the famous writer of, among other things, the jungle book, might have stayed in this room. On the other hand, he is said to have preferred to stay at other hotels, but praised the food at Raffles.\n\nI checked that my little Tiny-computer had contact with the wireless broadband network and waited to Raffe would connect. It was expecting. If I thought it would be quick to get answers so I cheated on me. After a little NAP, I went down in The Tiger Bar to quietly sip a Tiger beer. The last tiger in Singapore was his fate as early as 1902. Then it became trapped in the billiard room at Raffles and was shot by a local schoolteacher.\n\nSuddenly woke up my tiny computer with a roar. It was actually sir Randolph that appeared in the box and wanted to have a video conversation with me. My little computer actually has a built-in Web Camera, it remains to be seen whether it is also possible to get to a picture that expresses itself through the satellite to Raffes boat.\n\nWhen my little Tiny roared like a tiger, I was of course noticed at the bar. I had switched to tiger roar as the startup sound for the PC, in honour of the day. In times gone by it was Raffles Hotel starting point for various adventures on the Malay Peninsula, both in reality and in various films. In the 1980 's were shown such as the Mission in Singapore with Bruce Boxleitner on various TV channels around the world.\n\nThe television here on Tiger bar did not show the Tigers but focused as usual on the misery in the world. Right now, the world was in economic crisis, a constantly recurring theme every seven years. Because the communications are now so fast over the earth so is also the news quickly. It's also true that world economies are entangled in each other so that when the Nasdaq stock market sneezes, the rest of the world believe that it is the flu will infect. Therefore, rages also stock exchanges in Asia when the sun comes up there. The so-called market has reacted. I have always asked myself: who are the market, there might be a market with large M, a God who specialized in economy and which in reality controls the world of money.\n\nRight now, it was the price of crude oil jumped up again. And the dollar had dropped in value against other currencies. Once again the market had spoken.\n\nAnyway, my tiny computer had roared, and I opened the electronic mailbox. There was a brief message from Randolph. He had received several emails with a similar request. It was no ordinary spam, without unknown people who promised gold and green Woods if he contacted them. Much like Nigeria letter he wrote. We reviewed Google video!\n\nSmart thought. He means, of course, Gmail voice and video chat. Then he might have an eye on who he had contact with. No encryption or other oddities to be sure who is on the other end of the wire. In this case, the wireless, but in all cases. Because I had his Gmail address, it was as well to. It was, in any case, no one in this bar that was interested in what I had for me. Or was that it? A woman a few tables away seemed to actually show some interest for me. It could be because she was interested in my little cute computer. Or maybe she thought I was cute. Or maybe she wanted to offer their services; I did not know which profession she had. Judging by her appearance, she could be from Russia or perhaps any other Eastern European country.\n\nPerhaps it should be a little calmer and quieter to hook me up from the hotel room. I knew not whether we were going to talk about some secret or not.\n\nVideo chat gives the not very good picture. In this case, even the sound trouble. But I got in touch with a face full of Red Beard, but his initial reply, I realized that I found the right person.\n\n\"Hi, happy man from the Highlands,\" he began. \"What you have now for adventure to offer?\"\n\n\"Why so suspicious? Our little cruise in the Strait of Malacca on his time was well just refreshing! How is the weather, by the way, do you have any interesting storm going on? \" One can not start a conversation with an Englishman without talking weather.\n\n\"Right now it is a clear blue sky, amazingly hot, actually. On board, it is completely quiet as I sail with the wind speed towards the South of the continent. \"\n\nI outlined very briefly for my case:\n\n\"How is it, really, is there anything in the history that our mutual friend has told.\"\n\n\"You've hit a sore point in my honest British heart, actually. It's a few months in West Africa that I would prefer to forget. But yes, I am guilty of being accomplices in that story. Unfortunately, as I said was. \"\n\n\"Well, where do we go\", was the natural follow-up question.\n\n\"There are indeed some shady individuals that want to add rhubarb on this treasure. Therefore, I propose that we meet in two weeks. For this to work, we should meet up at three. Or maybe the two man and a woman. If you tell the woman in question that we meet at Seal Island, then she knows what happens. \"\n\n\"Then the question remains – when?\"\n\n\"It will take probably about a week for me to take me there by boat. But it's not imminent haste might. We can be heard over Gmail or mobile phone, you've got my mobile number. My Inmarsat has contact with the satellites, but I'm not available all the time. Sometimes I have to adjust the antenna so that it should work. \"\n\nImagine what technology has been developed. Adventurer and polar Explorer can now ride on their adventures without risking life very much. Even if you break your leg on the way to the South Pole so simply call the nearest rescue helicopter and gets rescued. It was the difference at Amundsens and Nansens time. The ships were then often frozen over the winter and the rest of the world could only hope and wait. Any searchers was precarious, you knew not even where they were, or whether they were alive or dead. Nansen was forced to spend the winter on an island in Franz Josef Land and feed on Walrus and polar meat. Andrée, who tried to reach the North Pole by hot air balloon, died when he wintered at White Island. With the exception of a homing pigeon and some found buoys not heard of the expedition at 33 years. The remains of service members, and their tools and diaries found 1930.\n\nBut as I said, with today's technology, you could easily reach Sir Randolph in the middle of the Indian Ocean.\n\nThe venue was a bit cryptic, time to get in touch with Naimee! I called up and got a response.\n\n\"Hey, boss,\" I started.\n\n\"But please, why have you not heard of you?\". She sounds almost like a real wife. I have none, but I know other people's wives.\n\nI told you about Raffes something cryptic place where we would meet.\n\n\"Great!\" she thought, \"Please let me know when he is approaching the goal as we meet there.\"\n\n\"Oh, please?\"\n\n\"It gets you know when! Dedicate yourself to selling computers somewhere in time.\" Naimee thought, and I content myself with.\n\nI walked into the bar and washed down my fears with a Singapore Sling, drink, famous since the 1910's, when the bartender Ngiam Tong Boon mixed it for the first time.\n\nThe Lady with the Russian appearance had disappeared but came back after a while. She sat down at the next table with a Tiger beer. Because I'm a salesperson, I try to be nice to my fellow human beings. And here we were a couple of lonely people, at a bar in Singapore. It was natural that we began to chat. I introduced myself, and she said her name was Anneli. She was from Scandinavia and was here in some kind of real estate transactions. She was quite curious as to what i did in this part of the world. The Scots sold computers in Asia thought she seemed somewhat out of place. I countered that Scandinavian women in the real estate industry at the tip of the Malay Peninsula was about as strange.\n\nWe had a fruitful discussion on the economy in the world before it was time to jump into bed. I was considering for a second or so to invite her to my Suite at the hotel, but her appearance was very businesslike, therefore I abstained.\n\nThe next few days I tried to sell the Scottish computer solutions mainly to firms with British ties. In the evenings, I met was Anneli and Tiger beer and discussed the world's economy. She seemed oddly familiar with foreign exchange and crude oil price to just be real estate agents. It lasted a few days, but I even came out where she lived. Then she was missing. I asked at the bar and the reception of the hotel if they knew anything about her. But they didn't. I had actually started to like her and the evenings become more boring now.\n\nThe woman in question was interesting, although somewhat bland exterior, rat-colored hair without hairstyle, one square in the body. But she radiated personality.\n\nAfter a time it popped up an email from Raffe who simply said that I would announce Naimee and that we would meet at the agreed location for a few days.\n\nNaimee had booked ticket with Singapore Airlines flight SQ478. The flight goes from Changi, Singapore International Airport at 0710. Where then? The notice you. Was the answer. It was not so difficult to find out. After a few minutes on the Internet with my little Netbook was the answer to my question that it was the Cape Town in South Africa.\n\nSeal Island\n\nAlthough the flight time was about ten hours was at only half past eleven when we arrived. Our Boeing 777ER to Johannesburg was comfortable and the flight attendants in their typical Singaporean uniforms took good care of me. Where did I change the flight, despite the advertisements promised direct flights. At Cape Town International Airport I was met by a big smile and an embrace. Naimee was now greeted me like an old friend that she has not seen in a long time.\n\n\"You look refreshed, rested, tanned. Perfect! Now you'll really get the benefit of subsistence allowance. \"She exclaims with an even bigger smile. \"I have booked tickets for a trip. First check in at the Victoria & Alfred hotel on the Victoria & Alfred Waterfront. From there we take the sightseeing boat Seal Island. \"\n\n\"What do you mean the seal Island cruises, I have not heard of any Seal Island here. If it runs tourist boats there it should be well-known in tourist brochures as well? \"\n\n\"You will soon find out.\"\n\nStrange was that we were going to South Africa.\n\n\"If I do not remember totally wrong, it was in your letter that the treasure in Nigeria were some boxes of a security company in Europe?\"\n\n\"Red herring\", was the brief comment from Naimee.\n\nIt was apparently a high level of secrecy. Naimee mentioned that there were a number of interested people who apparently also wanted to be in \"hunt for treasure\", which I now jokingly called our project. Given that she had sent a letter to Nigeria a few thousand recipients, it was not so strange, I thought. No, it was not so, Naimee explained, the letter was designed as a Nigeria letter but it was actually just a few recipients. If it got into the wrong hands, it would look totally harmless. Only people who were aware of those in power in Sierra Leone would know that there was indeed a realistic background. But why had I received the letter?\n\nOn the TV in the hotel room, it was the economic crisis, which was the biggest news. Currency fluctuations, oil prices and corporate crises. All the time, it was the market that caused it. Who are the market, one could ask.\n\nWe hiked down to the docks and put us in the queue to join the tourists to Robben Island. It was the Dutch who gave the name of the island, robben is thus seal in Dutch. Why had I not thought of such a simple solution. Although I could not Dutch as would a visit to Wikipedia, the encyclopedia on the Internet, provided me with the answer.\n\nThe Seal Island was still. On the dock when we arrived was some seals and saw sociable. They were apparently not extinct yet. Robben Island was so gray and dreary out in the cloudy weather. Otherwise the wait of a a prison island, now most famous for Nelson Mandela sat there for several years. But before it had the Dutch, British and Boer utilized the island discovered already 1496 of Vasco da Gama.\n\nNow, we were not there to listen to today's wizards, after the bus sat by us at prison batter us from the group. Randolph was not found in the Harbour, he was apparently on the other side of the island. If we took us to the highest Hill on the flat island, Minto Hill, we could see the boat. Naimee took me in hand and found a couple of bikes on the back of the prison building. How lucky she is. Or is it skill? I am increasingly amazed when I work with that woman.\n\nAnyway, with tourist map's help, it was not so difficult to find the highest Hill, when we from there took us down to the water was indeed a sailboat anchored there. It saw quite stable, but to sail across the Indian Ocean in such small boats appeared to be adventurous. As I pointed out for Sir Randolph when he picked us up with the ding.\n\n\"For us Englishmen, who dominated the world's oceans for centuries, there is no problem. You Scots, descended from Vikings, wants to see land when you sail!\". As usual, he is a little demeaning to all who are not actual Englishmen, and above all Scotsmen counts, of course, not there.\n\nWhen we go on board I see another cyclist who seems somewhat curious about us. But when he sees that he's discovered he bikes on. Just a tourist maybe, I've become too suspicious. This secrecy has gone on my nerves.\n\n\"We sail\", determines Naimee.\n\nIt is well just to keep up. Much like the secret police, this must not know anything except that you have to complete the mission.\n\n\"OK, towards port Elizabeth!\", agree with Randolph. Help here so we set sail. Someone who sailed before? Yes, I had been sailing optimist dinghy on Loch Ness, it could be of any help? Raffe noticed I joked with him so he just mumbled something about the naughty Scots and put us in the work to draw in some pull tabs so that the sails went up on the mast.\n\nNaimee took down in the galley to fix some chow, as she put it; Sometimes transcended her oxford English in more tough language. She had spent time with soldiers, of course. On reflection, maybe Naimee and Raffe had had something up earlier in life.\n\nIn any case, she complained that it was short of both food and beer, so it was decided that in the morning would go to Mosselbaai to refuel the food, fuel and LPG.\n\nIt turned out that it was a small colorful town on the Indian Ocean. The houses were painted in blue where they climbed on the mountainside. We added at the Marina where it was already around 50 pieces of more or less luxurious yachts. We set about provisioning and beating us down to eat lunch. Eating lunch in South Africa takes approximately two hours informed us Naimee, who had been in South Africa before. Randolph said that he did not have time, he packed up supplies in a taxi and drove off to the boat.\n\n\"Better kitchen on board\", he announced.\n\nWhich I did not believe entirely on. Once the food came it was well cooked and tasty. The food was good, it power and way of life, I had learned. Anyway, we walked towards the Harbour, but became concerned when we saw the boat from a distance. He'd visit. Perhaps quite innocent, but we sent a text message to him with a message: we take the train!\n\n\"What do you mean? Why should we take the train?\", I ask suspiciously.\n\n\"Randolph knows where we are heading.\", was the response from Naimee, now with a concerned smile. \"If it would be that it is any of our competitors, I don't think they want to Randolph anything bad. Therefore, it is best that we keep us at a distance. \"\n\nWe walked to the train station where it fortunately there was a long yellow trains there was heading north. We hurried us aboard, the train started and we were gonna beat us down into the next compartment. It looked as if the train consisted of sleeping-cars, but after a while we found a bar where a beauty from Zululand cleaned.\n\nShe informed us that we were on board the Shongololo Express, a train filled with tourists on the way from Cape Town to Johannesburg. Right now were tourists on an outing with minivans, they would come back on board in Knysna. The host couple on the train politely informed us that we were not desirable. We tried to convince them that we were tourists and very much wanted to pay for us if there was any free cab. In fact, there was such, they had gotten a late cancellation. A Zulu woman took us to the open compartment at the front of the train. She told me that Shongololo meant centipede. When the first trains arrived in South Africa found the locals that they looked like a centipede. Telling, indeed.\n\nWe beat us down in our compartment, took it easy and wait for better times. We had no spare clothes, but there was a shared shower in hallway we used. Toothbrushes and pajamas, we got to do without. We tried calling Randolph a few times. Sometimes we had no reception, sometimes he did not.\n\nIn Knysna returned passengers and it was time for dinner, we walked to the restaurant rather revamped cart. We were greeted by a dozen Zulu women singing on their home-country wild tongues of millipedes.\n\n\"As host!\", I thought.\n\n\"It's probably not for us,\" thought Naimee.\n\nIndeed, at a table sat a couple that was the target for courtship. They were treated to champagne and cake and song and congratulations from the hosts. It was someone's birthday. After dinner, we got to taste the leftover cake pieces in the bar. There were Dutch, Australians, Britons, Americans and Swedes.\n\nThey told me that every day they made excursions to take part in South Africa's history. There were people carriers on board with guides who took them to the sights. At the end of the trip, they would get to the trip's high point, Kruger Park. If you were lucky, you would actually be able to see all of the big five on the same day. We would probably not go so far. Naimee had other plans for us, I had to get. To leave a tourist company in the midst of a guided tour was nothing new for us. We would probably be South Africa's most lost tourists.\n\nAfter dinner we headed back to our cabin, we were now known as Mr. and Mrs. Jones. Actually, it was my real name, and it was true with my credit card which we paid for the trip with. Naimee was not shy. She undressed with the same naturalness as if we had been married for 10 years.\n\n\"But little Ham,\" she said, \"no, you're well shy of you. If we now imagine being married so it is just like the situation.\"\n\nCertainly I liked what I saw, the voluptuous bosom who tumbled out of the bra, the slightly reddish tassel from the long thighs and, not least, the broad smile that spread across her face.\n\nThat said, just like the situation. So I tore off my clothes and took advantage of my marriage. It was a long pleasant night with many gymnastic exercises. The train continued into the night, so the loud sounds that came to our compartment, reached hardly to adjacent spaces.\n\nAfter an early breakfast we entered one of the mini-buses that would take us to the National Women's Memorial outside Bloemfontein, one of South Africa's capital cities. The Parliament were sometimes in Cape Town and sometimes in Pretoria, the Supreme Court in Bloemfontein. Where J. R. R. Tolkien was born on 3 January 1892, author of the Lord of the rings.\n\nNational Women's Memorial was a sad story. The monument was a 35 meter high obelisk with an inscription that it was the memory of that 26370 women and children died in the concentration camps in South Africa. It was actually the British who invented concentration camps, something that is quite forgotten, except in South Africa. The Englishmen had actually won the war against the Boers but many Boer continued their guerrilla war. They left their farms and carried out various acts of sabotage against railways. Because the English didn't get hold of the culprits were retrieved Boers women and children and placed in concentration camps. There was a lack of food and medical care and that is why they died like flies.\n\n\"Now we leave group\", Naimee announced. We told our guide that we would do some errands on her own, so she could take the rest of the group back to the train without us. She looked a little focused on us, but with its typical South African accent, she accepted the Used to weird tourists, of course.\n\nWhen twilight came, and all tourists and other officials left the area, it was time for us to do utility. In front of the monument were about fifty memorial stones for each of the concentration camps. On each stone, it was a city name and how many women and children who died in the camp. Naimee had already ascertained that the third stone in the left hand was our goal.\n\nUnder the stone, we would find our treasure, assured Naimee. In a shed were garden tools, where we brought a shovel and a spit and took on the stone in question. I looked around to see if we were discovered. I believe I see shining eyes both here and there in the bushes. It rustling and croaked. Miscellaneous noise from dogs and hyenas, or was there not hyenas in these built-up areas? Maybe only a few impala antelopes, those who were called Africa's McDonald's because they were so to say on every street corner. To turn up the tombstones were more nervous than you'd think. Darkness in Africa is appalling.\n\nIt was a heavy lump, but after a while, we were able to turn it on. Under the stone there was treasure. Or rather, there was a plastic envelope, attached to the underside of the stone. Naimee padded envelope inside the shirt and we restored the stone out of place as best we could.\n\nWe went out to the nearest road and calling for a taxi, which came after a few minutes. We would continue with our centipede train, any pursuers should have hard to find us. Now, if we were persecuted, maybe it was just my imagination. Someone followed the taxi toward the train, there was a car behind us all the time.\n\nWe entered the train just before it would leave Bloemfontein in the evening. We went straight to the dining wagon and ate a nourishing dinner. Every night, it was apparently a theme, this evening was the South African food. After dinner, we returned to our compartment and I looked forward to a new exciting night.\n\nI opened the door and there sat a woman. The woman in question was quite bland, but rat-colored hair style. But radiated a certain personality.\n\n\"Excuse me, the wrong compartment, I think ...\"\n\nBefore I came longer said the woman \"good evening dear Hamilton! Nice that'll meet-again \".\n\nMy face must have been confused as a birdhouse. Or cuckoo clocks. In short, the woman in question was my acquaintance from Singapore, she called Anneli.\n\nFanny Mahmon\n\nShe, Anneli, had been a bit puzzling when I met her in Singapore. Always nice, but even though she told me a lot about herself, it was never anything that revealed about what she really did. Her story that she was in the real estate industry had never been quite convincing.\n\n\"And what have you inside the blouse, Ruth? OK, your name is not Ruth, Mrs. Kargbo. But in any case, it looks to be something dirty. Is it to have dug up a treasure or something? \"says Anneli with a clever smile.\n\n\"Who is that?\" question Naimee affected. It seemed as if it would run the ball between the two women. I had so far experienced both as nice and pleasant and very entertaining. Especially Naimee, of course. Despite his height Naimee dominated image and appearance, it was nevertheless Anneli who exuded respect.\n\nI got for me that was an adventuress Naimee but Anneli was the cold business woman. Not so stupid, it would show eventually.\n\nI presented Anneli which estate agents from Singapore, although I really doubted that was the case.\n\nWe moved on to talking about the weather and the train therefore became the conversation more relaxed for a while. Women guarded at each other like dogs and cats. Although I couldn't decide who was the dog and who was the cat. It was probably Anneli was cat, after all.\n\nAnneli didn't want to talk about how she found us, but it was quite clear that she had a case. She had come to propose a business deal. It was that we would work together within the same project, the project that we were doing, and that right now were inside Naimee's blouse.\n\nAnneli stated that we could not do without her. With the contacts she had in the banking industry, she would be able to help us. If not, she could easily stop us. To begin with, she told me that she very well knew Mrs. Kargbo and what she was looking for. And she was also well-versed in what is known as the Nigerian letter I had received.\n\n\"Impossible, it might just be Hamilton who got it!\", stated Naimee to my surprise. I started getting sour. Manipulated not only by one but by two women. Now I began to wonder what I really could contribute and why she chose me. Actually, I was just an ordinary computer salesman from Scotland. With customers throughout the world, but still. I didn't want to pressure Mrs. Kargbo right now, but I put it in memory for later use.\n\nI asked where Anneli had his bodyguards. She needed no, claimed she maybe was right, her pet's appearance should not attract either ugly blokes or robbers.\n\nTo begin with, we held silent with sir Raffe involvement in our project. But it turned out that Anneli had full control of the part as well. And she had an aide who was on Raffe's boat currently sailed to Durban.\n\n\"I want to make some phone calls,\" I said. \"I want to check who you are really and I also want to talk with Sir Randolph to see if he feels good.\"\n\n\"Please, my name is Anneli Koskenkorva and is employed at FMFP Finance professionals based in Dubai. And how are you going to check up on me? \"\n\n\"Easily. I call Bernard. An old friend of mine who is a little good at computers. \"\n\nI called Bernard. An older gentleman with gray hair and a long beard. He has been involved in the computer world in a hundred years, it seems almost, anyway. Ever since the 1950 's, he has hacked into all the computers that he wanted to look into. He would return shortly. I already heard on the phone how he keyed on the keyboard.\n\nNow finally answered Randolph in the phone. Sure, he replied, he had it good. He sailed to Durban by his own free will. Yes, he had a passenger, a woman named Dolly. But that does not at all looked like a Dolly. In and of itself, blonde, but otherwise she looked nothing like that Parton. She had just decided to come along and Raffe, had not the heart to toss her in the Lake. Completely harmless and very nice, he claimed.\n\nMeanwhile the train chugged further into the night. The passenger compartment was not made to accommodate guests, Anneli sat on a bed, the one that we had passed us last night. It would probably not be the same activity in the bed this night, it seemed like. We, and I, Naimee was sitting on the other unused bed. Before we went on, I wanted to have some facts about Anneli, therefore, the call went to idle. Still some tension between the women. I suggested that we could play strip poker, but the ladies looked at me like I was something the cat dragged in. No humor at all!\n\nBefore I received any indication from Bernard wouldn't Naimee produce the envelope she had inside the shirt. It took time for Bernard this time, but finally I got an MMS, picture messaging. It was a blurred image of Anneli. Then the phone rang and asked if it was a picture of the woman I made a request. In that case, he said, was the identity shattered. As such, she was with the Finnish Passport with the name I had given him. In addition, she had multiple identities, the most probable real identity was a shadow figure in the financial world.\n\nThere were no irregularities linked to the woman in question, but many question marks. If I could trust her? Probably was her business legal but perhaps not entirely ethical. She seemed to have made some deals that some rich people were not entirely satisfied with. If it was she who made them. With many aliases, it was difficult to get a hold on the person. Her real name should be Fanny Mahmon.\n\n\"Fanny Mahmon!\", I said and looked straight into the eyes of Anneli. For the first time, she was completely nonplussed and silent.\n\nThe next step\n\n\"I'd like to meet your hacker,\" she said after a moment. He had managed to unearth information that apparently should be completely inaccessible. I began to understand that I had a hold on Anneli/Fanny. Then maybe we could talk business.\n\n\"We are prepared to take up our dirty linen, sorry envelopes\", was my question to Mrs Naimee Kargbo. I was, after all, for her, it was she who paid for travel expenses, so to speak.\n\nWith a shudder, she took out the plastic envelope, opened it and looked for what it contained. I thought Naimee was completely in agreement with what would be there, but it was apparently not the case.\n\nShe knew it would be half the solution. The other half had Randolph in <control. The envelope contained simply a half key code to a safety deposit box.\n\n\"What bank?\", I wondered, of course.\n\n\"Don't know,\" was the answer. Maybe Randolph knows.\n\n\"I know,\" said Anneli. She wanted to be called Anneli, regardless of what name she was christened.\n\nShe wanted to at this point not to talk about what she knew and how she knew it. Probably she, or companies involved in the so-called treasure would \"dig\" down in a safety deposit box. Pretty far from home but in a civilized State far from England and the United States. There it could be that the mining operations in Sierra Leone would not be able to come into conflict with some Governments in Western countries and that assets would be frozen. It happens every now and then when the United States would put pressure on a government somewhere considered inconvenient.\n\nWe mentioned in passing that we probably have been shaded in Cape Town and Robben Iceland. But Anneli denied that she was particularly guilty of this. It had called several stakeholders to Raffe, thus we were clear that there was more involved.\n\nMeanwhile, a number of text messages exchanged with the outside world, Anneli. It seemed as if rather dealt with crude oil than with properties currently.\n\n\"If you have a few dollars over right now, I recommend that you buy a little crude. For example, there is a crude oil tanker that left Basra in Iraq with destination St. Croix. Crude oil is going up, you can buy the load of today, in two days, and you can sell it for about ten dollars a barrel over the current price.\"\n\n\"Well, how can you guarantee it? Or is it just a guess? \", was my comment.\n\n\"I have some control over the spot market,\" said Anneli.\n\nIt is common for traders to buy and sell crude oil cargoes from the Middle East which is heading to the United States and Europe. If prices are going up, you can earn big money on this. But when prices reach the top and come down, do not have any unsold loads on hand. Just enough fun to have a tanker wandering around the sea and not know where it was going. If you have transparency in Western crude inventories and mastered a number of crude loads that are on the way, it is possible to manipulate the market. Anneli explained. To some extent, I was aware of how it happened and that it was The Market that ruled. Anneli explained that it was she who ruled The Market.\n\nInteresting reasoning, though I bought no spot load with crude oil. Partly because I couldn't cough up the $15 million so there on the pot.\n\nWe would meet Randolph in Durban the day after tomorrow. In the morning, or rather in the day, it was soon breakfast; we could just as easily go on a trip. How was it with Anneli, she had her own cabin or would she share with us. She had bribed one of Zulu girls so she could sleep in one of the on-board staff cabins.\n\nOn the other hand, she could stay the night in one of our beds, we could share a bed as usual, she said. It was so clear that Naimee and I had been Bedfellows the previous night? Or we were on candid camera? Anyway, we stripped off all three of us, Anneli in a bed, we in the other. I couldn't help but check out Anneli when she half naked crawled into bed. Unlike the voluptuous Naimee innocently Anneli had some sort of mature teenage appearance. She was a modern woman who did not use a bra, she had clearly not in need of some such. There were a few quiet hours, the only thing we dried was to sleep.\n\nThe next day was the trip to Soetdoring where we close up view, among other things, a scarred male lion with yellow and black mane. Now it begins to resemble an Africa that we read about in the Adventure books. We are coming to Durban where we will meet Sir Randolph. We try to call him, email him, but did not get any response.\n\nAnneli tries to reach its contact at Raffe's boat, but neither did she succeed. Well in Durban, we take contact with the Harbor Master, no Randolph has been seen. If he has his phone switched on we should be able to track where he is, we think.\n\n\"I fix it\", states Anneli.\n\n\"Oh,\" I say, \"you have such contacts\".\n\n\"You would only know\"\n\nIn a few moments she gets up coordinates 30 ° 35 ' 05.37 \"S and 31 ° 17 ' 58.14\" E.\n\nUsing the excellent Google Earth I see quickly that the boat is available somewhere on the sea outside Durban. We are discussing whether we should alert the SAR when it pops up a message on my mobile. See you at Rolla Square, it is short and sweet. I reply and request more information, but no response. We are worried about Dolly, Anneli's aides may remain on board. The pirates are the most outside Somalia, but you never know for sure.\n\nAnneli informs us that it is perfect, we fly there. There is, therefore, the Emirate of Sharjah in the U.A.E., where can we find Rolla Square. First, we tried to book flights with Emirates, the U.A.E own airlines. It went better with South African Airways as after-bound passengers transferring in Jo'burg could take us to the Dubai International Airport, just a stone's throw from Sharjah.\n\n\"We will stay at Sadaf\", says Anneli. We did not book, Anneli had her contacts there.\n\nWe are going to Dubai on the evening of the night; take a taxi to Sadaf Furnished Suites. At the reception there is Cora Delena with roots in the Philippines that give us a furnished apartment on the eighth floor. Nice apartment with a balcony overlooking the Port of Khaled, a bedroom, living room and kitchen. The kitchen has no dishwasher, but a washing machine. I will soon notice that residents here are incredibly clean, seems to always have freshly laundered clothing. Opposite lives apparently Anneli, who said she has previously said that she worked for FMFP Finance professionals in the U.A.E.\n\nIn the cell phone, I have received a message – \"Rolla midnight\". The watch is almost midnight, so we take a quick walk over the back yard past the exquisitely ornamented mosque to the square where maybe we should meet Sir Randolph. Seems to be a good place to meet in the middle of the night. Here is the square marketplace with hundreds of stalls selling all possible and impossible things. This is the Indian merchants who dominates the picture. Eighty percent of the residents are migrant workers in the Emirates, most from India and Islamic Republic of Pakistan. Unlike big cities in many parts of the world, one can safely walk anywhere even at night, the risk of being knocked down or robbed is minimal.\n\nThe square is full of people of many nationalities. In the middle of the square is a work of art, a hole that looks like Oak inside a towering cement stuff. There is also a giant tree that almost resembles the artwork. In the square there is a sandal dealer that looks familiar. He waves us behind the sheet and asks us to try the shoes inside a shielding.\n\nRandolph is the same, more or less in all cases. It appears that he spent many days on the open water, his face is red burned and fully bearded. His British ginger color is found in the upholstery. If he tried to resemble an Indian sandal dealer he has not succeeded particularly well.\n\nHe turns to us with his eyes on the issue: Anneli and legitimate question\n\n\"And what have you dragged with you now?\" As if he wondered what it rat the cat dragged in?\n\nAs we explain, he becomes more and more taken aback. The story was not very easy to explain. Randolph was not very convinced. I expressed my surprise over secrecy, why should we meet at a sandal dealer on Rolla Square when we could sit in any restaurant?\n\n\"I'll tell you,\" he said.\n\nCharlotte Victoria\n\nSir Randolph talks about his experiences since we met last. It was in Mossel Bay, the pleasant little town on South Africa's East Coast.\n\nRaffe's boat is called Charlotte Victoria and is a Hallberg-Rassy Monsoon, HR31, equipped with sails and a 25-horsepower Volvo Penta engine. The boat is approximately 10 meters long, the mast is 15 meters high.\n\nThe Interior wood work is carried out in carefully selected khaya-mahogany; the layout is well outlined and offers very generous volume for its size. A big chart table with a seat in the boat's direction, a spacious kitchenette, a standard 2 meter salon, a large washroom with shower, two double cabins and an airy entrance area makes the HR 31 the most spacious in its class.\n\nShe was designed by the world ace Germán Frers and have great fine sailing qualities. The boat is well balanced, moving quietly into the Sea, and takes a height like no other comparable boat. She is easy to sail yourself if needed. All lines, including reefing, are controlled from the comfortable and well protected cockpit. Raffe's description of boat sounds as if he has taken it directly from the sales brochure.\n\nWhen he came on board in Mossel Bay with grocery bags and other things needed for the continuing journey, he was met by a well-dressed woman. She was already on board, how she got there, she wanted not to talk about.\n\n\"Hello Sir Randolph,\" she says and hands out a small well managed hand, \"my name is Dolly.\"\n\nIt was nice, he had not seen so many woman in recent times. Raffe knew yet not if she was friend or foe.\n\n\"Have you any errand, I suppose?\"\n\n\"Well, my only issue is making you company until I get a message from my client.\"\n\n\"And who could it be?\"\n\n\"Nobody who you know, but she is a partner with Mrs. Kargbo. Her do you know well what I know. In addition,\" she continues,\" you see that cool boat over there? \"\n\n\"You mean the one where Sea Ray- motorboat?\"\n\n\"Just right!\"\n\nFast boat with a motor on the so-so 375 horses. On board, there were also a few gentlemen who seemed clearly interested in Charlotte Victoria. And there was none that Randolph felt, what he could see. Raffe had long suspected that someone was keeping an eye on him. On a request to Dolly, she stated that it was not at all friends to her.\n\nThey agreed to lift anchor without Hamilton and his entourage. As the expedition continued success was due to the fact that Randolph and Naimee would meet up so it could be a good solution. If it was dodgy individuals so maybe they did not have the resources to follow two tracks simultaneously. They may not even know that there were more people involved.\n\nRandolph argued much with Dolly before he had to give up. The only option was to forcibly throw her into the water, and it was perhaps neither quite easily. Dolly was blonde but without curves, well-dressed and charming. Shame on your clothes, if nothing else. If it was somehow so that Dolly was friends with friends so she got well.\n\nThey also discussed about the possibly they had any weapons that could deter potential persecutors. Dolly demonstrated her nail file and Raffe sole contribution was a flare gun. It was therefore to be trusted to totally peaceful means, cunning and intelligence.\n\nThey decided to sail to Durban. While sailing they could check whether they were hounded by the Sea Ray. Charlotte Victoria was a chance if there was a race run on the Lake, with Sea Ray 375 horses could dance around Charlotte like a Christmas tree.\n\n\"Things you not do in England, well?\" asks Dolly.\n\n\"No, just right. It is a Scandinavian tradition. I made a study visit to Dalarna in Sweden once. There was dancing around the Christmas tree for several weeks after Christmas. They threw out the spruce, the next day it was another place that would throw out the Christmas tree and so on. \"\n\nThey seemed to be persecuted. The radar showed another boat some nautical miles away, and that followed the same course and speed. They changed course and speed from time to time to make sure they had the joint makes the suspicions.\n\nRandolph let Dolly handle rudder a few hours so he could take a nap.\n\n\"Is this the Cradle Cap well insured?\" asks Dolly when Randolph had awakened. \"If not, I know someone who can replace you if it would disappear.\"\n\n\"Oh well! And? \"was his intelligent question.\n\n\"Easy as pie. Tonight we come to Durban. Or rather we sail past Durban. That is to say that Charlotte Victoria sails past. \"\n\n\"Aha, and we swim ashore!\"\n\n\"Just that. Or rather, you can take your inflatable rescue raft and paddle ashore. It certainly is not on their radar then. Smart huh? \"exclaims Dolly. Randolph protested lamely, but switched to teach Dolly in the operation of the boat.\n\nRandolph put on autopilot and let Charlotte go in enough pace on a course that would go right between Mozambique and Madagascar. Dolly would intervene if there was risk of collisions, groundings or similar. Moreover, she could follow the coast to Richards Bay. Further north after the beach to the Indian Ocean, it was plenty of sandy beaches but short on ports.\n\nSo it became.\n\nAl Burj Road\n\nIn Sharjah, which in many places in this continent, it is so shown arranged to almost all banks are located on the same street. On other streets, there may be car rental company, computer resellers, etc. We would visit a bank at Al Burj Road, the bank Street in Sharjah.\n\nIt sounded good, once we opened the bank slot I could maybe go home again. Then I should had fulfilled my mission. I still wondered what benefit I really had done and why I became involved. I felt utilized but could not pinpoint how and why.\n\nWe hiked to the BOBB bank, a local bank which in any case I never heard of. Bank Palace was built in marble and had an entrance with chandeliers, fountain and other facilities which indicated that one could rely on this bank.\n\nAnneli, who knew how to deal with the bankers, said he wants to meet with the Manager himself because this bank tray that we would pull was very special. None of the rank and file at the Bank was authorized to admit any of this special vault, apparently intended for Very Important People, VIP.\n\nThe Manager's Office was the size of a small football pitch. In a magnificent marble work desk, of course, put the bank manager. An Arab in a very white Arab robe, one of the genera Mahmoud, namely Ali Ben Salem Al Mahmoud, CEO, Chief Executive Offficer. It was the family that ruled and stood in the Emirate of Sharjah.\n\nAfter some pleasantries and general discussion about the world economy wanted to bank manager, of course, offer refreshments. Despite the fact that he was a Muslim, he asked politely if we wanted a little whiskey. Slightly surprised I thanked Nope, but Randolph wanted to have anything Scottish. It turned out that there was a well hidden cabinets behind a painting by Rembrandt which contained a selection of strong products. Natural hospitality apparently. We let us be content with a small cup of tea.\n\nAfter that we, that is to say, Naimee and Randolph, been duly controlled could we should March down to the bank vault where it would turn out if their code and keys would work.\n\nThe tension rose. Since there were riches from Sierra Leone, one could suspect that there was a safety deposit box filled with diamonds. The major cause of all wars and unrest in Sierra Leone in recent decades was the nation's natural resources by Diamond, er, Titanium Ore, bauxite, iron ore, Gold and chrome. Our friend the Governor of Sierra Leone, which was the cause of all this trouble, should have stopped aside some of these riches, diamonds, for example. It was what I thought. I asked Naimee, the dead bank manager's wife, but she seemed to not have any grasp of what would be in the bank slot. The whole thing was a mystery, she claimed, the information she had from the beginning was contradictory. There should be three drawers in which family treasure would be.\n\nTogether with our bank manager Ali Ben Salem Al Mahmoud, we took the elevator to the deep cellar vaults. To the very secret of the vaults could be only a couple of the Bank's top management to enter using the fingerprint sensor, eye iris reader and personal code. Once inside the vault could Naimee and Randolph use their keys and codes for opening the safe. A tiny safe-deposit box, where it could not be accommodated particularly large boxes with diamonds or gold.\n\nIt made me question Randolph was he had gotten hold of their copy of the keys and code.\n\nAs I suspected, it was Robben Island that he had downloaded them before we got cycling to his boat, he had made a small excursion to Minto Hill where there were remnants of an old lighthouse. Third stone from the left in the part of the Foundation towards the Cape of Good Hope, there was Raffe's half of bank tray code. It was before we started to suspect that we were persecuted.\n\nIt led to thoughts on if somehow we were guarded when we walked into the Bank. It could be that the pursuers, if they existed, and what it was now, in or outside the Bank and just waiting for us to come out with gold and precious stones.\n\nAnneli was apparently on the same lines of thought, she asked our CEO if there was any back door that we could use when we left the building.\n\nThe tension was becoming unbearable, we all four looked impatient. Ralf stroking his shaded beard, Naimee corrected to the hair even though it was already perfect, Anneli looked completely calm until I drew attention to her staring eyes. Only I was absolutely calm, apart from that, I looked at the clock every 5 seconds. We were in a hurry, or we had all the time in the world, I asked myself.\n\nAfter some fiddling about with keys and codes could Naimee produce the little box out of bank safe. The Bank Manager had left us in peace and quiet and would not be able to pick out our secrets. Naimee put the too light box on a table and opened it. The dream of boxes full of diamonds I had left for a long time ago.\n\nThere was only one envelope, addressed to Mrs. Kargbo, sealed with old-fashioned red lacquer with a seal that was only with the central bank of Sierra Leone. The air went out of the us, here was apparently just another clue to the real treasure. If there were any real treasure of course.\n\nSince no one else dared to open the envelope, I did. There was just a piece of paper with three names.\n\n\"None that I know,\" I noted with disappointment. \"Would it be bad are the three dead accomplices to the tragically murdered Mr Kargbo.\"\n\n\"No, those I know. Let's pull back and think about the future! \"\n\nIt's Anneli, finance broker in the Assembly, who apparently knows more than the rest of us, we have an expression of violin drawers in our faces. Naimee hides the paper in her bra, after which we will look up the bank manager who is waiting for us in a comfortable chair outside the inner bank vault.\n\nBank Manager escorts us into hiding away, unlocks a few armored doors and placing us in a basement. It turns out that we are going up in a small restaurant. This is possibly a poorer part of the family, Mahmoud, who runs it. We stop and I order a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. The man behind the counter gets a couple of kilos of oranges out of the fridge and presses forward with a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. Good and refreshing.\n\nAnneli tells about the people behind the names on the note in the bank vault. They are in a sense colleagues to her, they are financial advisers in three different financial organizations. The question is why they are on the secret list. And why it would be so hard to find the list.\n\nNaimee had been very quiet so far. Now, she came anyway to the heart of the matter. It was these three people who would administer the riches. Perhaps they had gotten a box of diamonds that they would somehow manage to family Kargbo.\n\n\"We'll ask them how they carried out their mission.\" I think. \"If they managed their tasks well so there well many beautiful money to download.\" I start thinking about my Commission but is pulled back to reality by Anneli:\n\n\"I know these people, but if they put their hands on something big, it's probably not so easy to withdraw money from accounts that they occupy.\"\n\nRandolph and Naimee, those who in one way or another had insider information in the case, had not said so much so far. I wanted to know more about how it really happened when wealth leaving Sierra Leone. Yes, it was probably three boxes of diamonds from the beginning. As you know, there were a lot of valuable natural resources in the country, such as diamonds. Somehow, the former Minister of Finance, had smuggled out gems to finance sharks everywhere in the world. According to Naimee was it she who had education and actually managed the State's finances. But one reason that finances were so bad that her husband, the Minister of Finance on the completely other roads had managed to get considerable amounts of precious stones from the country to some recipients in more \"civilized\" countries.\n\nRandolph, who at the time were in Sierra Leone as military Advisor, had a recollection of that some soldiers from the Finance Minister's home village had long vacations, issued at the highest level. They had for some reason been abroad, with what he knew now, they could have been the couriers for transporting various valuable things. He also remembers that some of them had been in Dubai. A young man who later disappeared. Which was not so unusual, the young soldiers often returned to his native village when they were disappointed at the army.\n\n\"From the bank slot was a name related to UAE, United Arab Emirates\", interjects Anneli, \"Paul ' the monkey ' Anolodimitrakis, probably Greek but based in Dubai.\"\n\n\"So good, how do we get a hold of him,\" I ask the pious.\n\n\"He has no Office in town that I know of. But if you activate your friend the hacker, maybe he can figure out how we might find him \".\n\n\"With such a name, he should be easy to find, if you can spell correctly!\"\n\n\"Have you tried Googling him, asks Naimee innocence.\n\nGoogle search on Anolodimitrakis gave a lot of hits, but hits just met relatives in southern Europe. A search in Arabic characters could be interesting, but none of us had mastered the language. But it actually makes my friend Bernard, asocial computer hacker. So I enabled him, according to Anneli's parlance.\n\nMonkey's year\n\nBernard had enormous problems to identify Paul. The difficulty with this type of financial sharks was that maybe they were completely legal and only take advantage of the opportunities that exist. Getting rich is not a crime. To speculate in stocks and metals can be perfectly OK. But others speculate without permission with assets, and then it's not as much fun anymore. Especially, it is not particularly fun for the person whose assets are lost out in the market.\n\nPaul did not seem to be an important player on the market. Now and then, someone is manipulating stock prices, commodity prices and any country's currency. A few years ago, it was the famous financier Soros, born in Hungary, which was said to speculate in Swedish kronor. The Swedish Central Bank raised its interest rate to 500 percent to defend the Crown against currency speculation. The year was 1992, during 94 days lasted the crisis in Sweden before the Swedish Government and the Central Bank gave up and released the Crown free.\n\nIn the past, the so-called gold standard, that is to say that as collateral for notes and coins were equivalent to the value of gold in the vaults. The gold standard in the Scandinavian Monetary Union (Sweden, Norway and Denmark) was introduced in 1873. The value of 1 kg of gold was set to 2480 SEK. If you then had 2480 SEK in banknotes and coins you could basically go to the Bank and get a kilo of gold.\n\nWhen you let go the direct link between banknotes and gold, one can say that the value of one SEK it became a matter for negotiation. Instead, for a set amount of dollars get a certain number of dollars. How many dollars you get depends on supply and demand. In the same way as you buy and sell shares or real estate is one of the currencies. Anyone who has enough dollars or yen can buy dollars that are available in the market and then sell when the price has risen.\n\nIceland went on an even worse blow 2008. The Icelandic banks, spurred on by the State and international bankers lent money wildly. In the background there was loan bubble in the United States. When the bubble burst, then burst also Iceland's economy. No one wanted to own Icelandic crowns and they became more or less worthless. You can compare with a Iceland krona is a share in the Icelandic State. Then the sale of Crowns, some may buy cheap if they believe that the exchange rate will go up. If a State could go bankrupt Iceland would then be in the hands of the bailiff, so to speak.\n\nWhere does Paul enters the picture? He was not a major player, we said just now. No, but there are spiders in the net. In this case it is the \"Monkey\" Paul Anolodimitrakis who wields like a Cheeta (it was Tarzan's Monkey, you who have not seen the film) between the trees in the financial jungle. The original Cheeta from Tarzan movies, became 80 years old. The world's oldest known chimpanzee.\n\nHe, therefore, is the archetype of Paul, a lobbyist, one who affecting leading politicians. Here it is, instead, the financial world's leaders who will be affected in a way that they take financial decisions in a certain direction. He appears in all official and unofficial meetings of the industry. He is on opera and film premieres. He hits the economy and gossip journalists around the world. He is also available as an advisor to world oil sheiks. Paul has therefore converted to Islam. Therefore, he also has four wives, at least. He also has one mistress in every port, at least.\n\nHe does not appear on the Internet, computers don't seem to his home course. Instead, it is mouth to mouth method that he uses. He owns a valuable antiquarian, old books can provide contacts with the world's rich people. We are here in Sharjah, in the old Souk Al Arsa.\n\nInside the Souk (market), it was quite cool. The Arabs were the art to build cool houses long before air conditioning was invented. Around a small square, where you could buy a cup of iced tea, for example, were a number of shops. Some sold rugs, others sold more tourist addicted gadgets. From the square were some side alleys where it was sold all sorts of things, more focused on the local population. But there was also Paul Anolodimitrakis antiquarian.\n\nBecause Paul had an eye on the financial industry and could know about Anneli it had to be Naimee and I would take a light coverage on the second-hand bookshop. It was easy for us to be tourists who were interested in rugs and stuff. We were also able to calmly drinking a few glasses of iced tea and look curiously at the folk life. The matt merchant was on the alert and gave out both expensive and cheap rugs. Naimee, who was accustomed to haggle with intrusive trade men, had an ongoing negotiation with the matt merchant if a Persian silk rug that was very nice and quite expensive. She continued for several days, it did that without that someone could be suspicious could spend several hours in Al Arsa souq. While we were trying to find out if the second-hand bookshop was the headquarters of Paul's business. It took three days before he finally showed up. Short, dark beard and hairy hands could explain that he was called the monkey. With your mobile phone, we took pictures of everyone who visited the store, it was actually not that many. Some pictures I sent to Anneli, it could be that she recognized someone in the industry.\n\nI myself had visited the store when not the monkey was there, there were some seemingly valuable volumes even in European languages. Assistant in the store, a young Indian, could do its thing. The shop was small, but it could fit a lot behind. The shop was narrow, but deep.\n\nAnneli, who had been wandering around outside Al Arsa, had seen some colleagues close to the Souk and asked if we had seen them; If the monkey was he we thought, should the financial guys have visited with him. But we had not seen anything.\n\n\"There is a rear entrance,\" suggests Naimee. \"Too bad we don't have any local capacity can reconnoiter in the posterior regions. It is a maze of small streets with many locked doors.\"\n\n\"We can ask your friend the matt merchant\", I suggest.\n\nNaimee, she with that big smile, began to once again discuss silk carpets with the matt merchant. After a while, she came together with the matt merchant, waving at me and we gave ourselves into the posterior regions. He locked up a few doors, and we came into his matt lager where there were many fine Persian, Kashmiri and other beautiful rugs.\n\nThe door next to the matt store went to the monkey's second-hand bookshops, it turned out; We also had the good fortune to one of the boys as Anneli talked about just came, pressed a hidden button to Bell and was let in.\n\n\"When shall we go in there and watch his secrets,\" I say on my broadest Scottish. The matt merchant should not understand what I said, but after a short time brightened Naimee. Despite her oxford education she could translate to oneself into understandable English.\n\n\"Should be fun!\", she says simply.\n\nTo make the matt merchant happy to finally Naimee bought a Srinagarr-carpet of pure silk, approximately 500 000 knots per square meter, cost ten thousand Euros, but it was worth it, she thought.\n\nI called Randolph, he with the ginger colored mustache, and decided that we would have dinner at The Emirates, the restaurant across the street from our hotel. I called my friend hacker, Bernhard, to make clear that he could not find any more online about \"the monkey\".\n\n\"He is absolutely sick,\" says Bernard, \"he's 90s or so, clean the Stone Age. In the industry You must of course be connected, it doesn't work otherwise! Are you sure that you have found the right man. \"\n\n\"Of course,\" I reply but I'm starting to actually have doubts. How can Anneli be so sure? Oh well, it dissolves for sure when we'll take a look in his Office, I hope.\n\nThe Emirates are decorated to suit the Arabs, they possibly veiled women can sit in a booth with his family and drawing a curtain in front of the booth. This is to prevent the transparency. It suits us well. We check in the booths next to that they are empty. Then we can discuss business between bites. The food was delicious if you order sheep or chicken, especially their herb marinated chicken skewers may be recommended.\n\nI had previously enabled Bernard, my own mechanic. He had very little to say about Paul, far too little fact. The guy must have a computer. He could not operate on the Internet without a computer. But, that said, according to Bernard was he not in cyberspace at all.\n\nAfter a good chicken dinner washed down with zero percent beer we had in all cases a strategy for the night's games. Randolph was able to enter through the locked doors, he asserted, therefore, he was called up. I, as a computer specialist in the group, would also get into the Office. The rest of the Congregation, the female side, Anneli and Naimee would be near as lookouts.\n\nWe decided to hold off to the evening prayer before we would go into action. We must also be clear before Morning Prayer at five o'clock in the morning. Sharjah is very Muslim, why should it be that calmest between prayer times. If there were any in the Souk (market), it was best to be out of the way when he was awakened by the prayer caller's speakers.\n\nRandolph had a small portfolio of tools, I took with me my tiny computer and common sense. Maybe.\n\nI thought Raffe's talk about burglar skills most was boasting, but when I saw him quickly pick the lock, I was impressed.\n\n\"Your father was possibly in burglar industry?\", I ask innocently but silent.\n\n\"It's a long story,\" he replies, \"we can take at a later time. You get to learn a lot in the military.\"\n\nQuietly we take in through the back door in the Anolodimitrakis store. Extremely well-organized, you have to say. A small office apart seems to be the boss's hideout. Drawers are locked, but that is no problem for Randolph. Safe, a large heavy history in one corner is not something that we can not force right now. Much paper is there, everything about the shop and antiques, what we can see. I am crawling under the table to find connections to the outside world. And, actually, there is a broadband socket for a PC! Could it be that he actually has a connection through the wire for broadband, lucky that he didn't just rely on wireless connection to the Internet.\n\nI plug in my Tiny computer in the broadband outlet and sign in with Bernard.\n\n\"Here I am, you can track me?\"\n\n\"Aha\", becomes the answer after a while. \"It was interesting! This line is registered to a mister Abhaj. Sounds Indian. Has he perhaps an Indian aide? \"\n\n\"You can keep watch on this line in the future?\"\n\n\"A piece of cake!\"\n\nWe actually find nothing similar to that he is a successful financial shark. The only thing of interest is his calendar, it is filled with times and locations. With the camera in the mobile phone photograph I a number of pages. Although, I don't see a lot of interest where we might be able to benefit from the notes in the future.\n\nNothing happens here, we observe that no one should see that we had been there and opens the door gently towards the alley. But the door is closed. From the outside. Fishy. What to do now? Oh, Randolph could pry the door from the inside. He does, of course, but when we cautiously looking out in the alley sit a few Arabs there and playing some kind of board game.\n\n\"It looks like the old Persian game of nard, Randolph when we pulled us further into the store. It consists of a Board with four times four boxes, with two dice. \"\n\nI successful silent Randolph. In the military far away from civilization, you learn even simple games. Apparently.\n\nThe players in the alley seems not to be eager to give free rein to us. And why are they there and play nard in the middle of the night? Guards for Paul or are we pursuing of one as usual, or is it just a coincidence?\n\nInside the store, out of earshot from the alley, do I call with my cell to Naimee's mobile and explains our dilemma.\n\n\"Niema problema\", says Naimee to me unknown language. \"The coast is clear in five minutes!\"\n\n\"How then, if we may ask?\"\n\n\"Don't worry, I am woman!\" she says a little contradictory. \"Exactly five minutes can you take without problems out in the alley.\"\n\nOh yes, Naimee can fix a bit of each, we are to believe her.\n\nI'd love to see how she carries; therefore I gently open the door and see Naimee walking with swinging tail, seemingly on an evening walk with no worries. She has flicked up a couple of buttons on the blouse to the well-stocked bosom threatens to overflow. Not every day the poor Arabs look such a hottie. Innocent, she asks if they can show the way out of the Souk.\n\nThe two Arabs slide up from their tailor-made stands in a way that all Europeans will be envious of. We as always sitting on chairs becomes helpless and numb after a while with his legs crossed on the ground. They are very polite, and both do their best to comply with and show the way out of the Souk. They are probably not very surprised to see a tourist who strayed alone in the middle of the night. Unlike most cities in the West, it is completely safe to venture out alone in the streets in such as Dubai or Bangkok.\n\nWhen Naimee with companion disappeared around the corner and we'll take us out of the store, after us and go away in the other direction.\n\nWhere's Anneli?\n\nWe walk back to our hotel without difficulty and gather together in my room to sum up the night's games. All except Anneli, she did not respond to any phone call. I sent a text message to her and then we broke off and went to bed. I threw the lustful look on Naimee, my idea was to crawl into bed with her. But she looked at me blankly, burned by its famous wide smile with a:\n\n\"Good night, Ham lille. Slept sweetly, wake up... \"\n\nI was probably a little jealous of Sir Randolph, they had after all been in Sierra Leone together and God knows what they had been up to. I therefore had to drag me back to my room where I fell asleep to the sound of a rattling air conditioner.\n\nAt the breakfast table we noted that Anneli was still not available. None of us knew her very well, I was the one who had pulled her into the business, claimed the other. In a way, it was on the way, while she somehow made herself indispensable with his contacts in the financial world. Anyway, we contacted reception but they would not let us in Anneli's suite, Anneli was a well respected regular guest.\n\nSo, we had our secret weapon, burglary specialist Randolph. We kept an eye out so that we would not be surprised by any cleaners or another guest, Randolph actually had major problems with getting into it has charm.\n\n\"This is the special lock, an ASSA seven holders, they are extremely difficult. This door has an extra lock, this will probably not even staff get in to clean up. \"\n\nTen minutes later, in all cases, Randolph managed to let us in. There, we understood that it was not without reason that the door was difficult to force. A wall full of computers and monitors where we could read by the Dow, Nasdaq, DAX, Nikkei, short said there were direct services to many of the world's stock markets. Some news channels were ticking up news on some screens.\n\n\"Oboy! Cool gadgets actually.\" Randolph was deep impressed.\n\nWe half in half had a suspicion that find Anneli having fainted or sleeping or something. But here it was entirely empty of people. But here was a black and white cat, a Finnish domestic cat perhaps. He, or it was a she, did not seem to suffer any distress, there was an automatic cat feeder and fresh water. The cat was somewhat hesitant and clearly showed that it did not want to be petted or coddled. He was in the office chair and we neither wanted nor dared to try to move on him.\n\nAnneli could do business with the world, buying and selling stocks, commodities and currencies. The extent made us speechless, it looked like a trading office in a bank.\n\nI struck me down at a computer a bit from the cat and made contact with my super hacker Bernard.\n\nBecause he has always openly for a chat, I contacted him via the keyboard, and he soon was able to locate the computer where I sat and also some other computers that were there.\n\n\"Oh, you apparently have taken you into Kosken Pankki OY, a virtually unknown actor on the market. They have recently moved its operations from Mariehamn to U.A.E.\"\n\nAccording to Anneli's calendar, she will be on an evening event with Mustapha Binladin, a local big shot.\n\nI declare, I've had business in computers with them, to Binladin Contracting Group in Dubai is a reputable company that belongs to the Saudi Binladin Group with approximately 22000 employees and is involved in many major projects, mostly in the Middle East. Osama was a relative of the Binladins. After all, it is a little surprising when you come to Dubai and met by big Binladin-signs on the buildings.\n\n\"Well, we go there,\" Naimee thinks. \"If you print the invitation card that came with your email so I can take me there.\"\n\n\"You're not particularly like Anneli\", I disagree.\n\n\"It's probably so many people that it's not someone notice it.\"\n\nThe event is in the Burj Al Arab, the world's second-tallest hotel. It is also one of the world's most luxurious hotels, it is claimed to be the world's only seven star hotel. It is located on the artificial island and look like a sail. The smallest room, or rather the suite, is at 169 square meters, the largest at 780 square meters, large as a smaller plot. There is rooftop tennis court.\n\n\"Why we were not booked there, asks Randolph.\n\n\"Sure, if you pay so we move there.\"\n\nMustapha Binladin has an Office in Burj Al Arab on the 25th floor. The event began at the tennis court where there were treated to non-alcoholic drinks. There were guests from all corners of the globe and Naimee recognized many from gossip press celebrity pages. The question was whether anyone would recognize Naimee. That I would be able to be recognized in this context was not very likely.\n\nBoth Naimee and I was decently dressed, her business suit was perfectly OK in this context even if the neckline was a bit too generous. As she drew attention to herself I mingled on my own. I tried to mingle so near Mustapha Binladin as possible to try and get any clue as to why Anneli should be here. Actually asked Mustapha Binladin at some point why miss Koskenkorva was not there. The white dressed aide called a few calls and conferred with the guards at the door but came back with negative information.\n\nBecause I felt something odd in the society I pulled me towards the inner parts of the floor, curious as you are. Here was a landscape Office and inside it a locked office for the boss himself. I sat down at one of the computers in the Office landscape, linked up to the Internet and there I contacted my favorite hacker Bernard. I gave him a short note where I was and asked him to keep tabs on the computers here.\n\nBehind my back I heard a rustling sound why I quickly tied down Bernard and instead wrote in the Financial Times in the Google search bar. A cruel type in white robes stood diagonally in front of me and asked politely what I did here.\n\n\"I just wanted to check the latest news,\" I reply a bit nervously.\n\n\"We are grateful if you refrain from touching on our computers,\" he clarifies.\n\nI trudge back to the party where I suddenly get to see \"the monkey\" Paul Anolodimitrakis in conversation with a couple of other individuals, a long lanky, fair-haired man with British stance, and in addition, a Voluptuous Blonde. At first glance, she looks as if she would only be with that figurehead, but after a while she tries to convince Paul of some business. I pull myself closer to the trio and notice that the blonde is American and that the lanky man has an accent reminiscent of South Africa. I spiked the ears when they mention Sierra Leone, diamonds and war.\n\nWhere are Naimee, she has not gone missing? After a while, I see her in animated conversation with a couple of Arabs. I wave a little discreet I have something on my heart, and she comes over to me with a quizzical expression.\n\n\"Over there is our friend Paul and has a lively discussion on Sierra Leone with a South African and an American. If you charms South African, I try to invite the American to a drink. \"\n\n\"Dunce, the drinks are non-alcoholic and free. Find something better! \"\n\n\"Yes, Yes, I'll at least try to get a little snack with the blonde.\"\n\nShe seems to be in a bad mood, I'll take God in mind and ask myself next to her and asks, innocently\n\n\"You see the scowl. What can get such a hottie in a bad mood on such a pleasant place?\" My initial reply was not too sophisticated, but she did not seem to take offense to it.\n\n\"You see the monkey over there, he would gladly sell one of his wives to the highest bidder. No loyalty, no morals for five cents. Give me a glass of bourbon with Cola and ice is you love! \"\n\n\"It is not alcohol-free here, at least I thought so.\"\n\n\"Are you green woodpecker here? Who are you by the way? Never mind, talk to the dude at the bar. He's always drinking that fit us civilized people! \"\n\nSure enough, the dude at the bar with a couple of cocktails conjured up strong goods why I returned to the blonde who immediately became in a better mood. I tried to explore a little bit more about the conversation with Paul, but she had now am and talked no more with outsiders on this.\n\nBecause she had mentioned Sierra Leone and diamonds in the conversation with the monkey I linked all my Scottish charm and managed to actually book a dinner with her the very next day. She would go home to New York the very next day. For safety's sake, I got her business card, which she, Bibi Hammermann, entitled Staff Advisor, whatever that might mean.\n\nI booked on the boat restaurant on Dubai Creek, once onboard, she could not escape even if I managed to have awkward questions. The boat left the dock and cruised on the creek while we ate all kinds of Arabic cuisine. In the background was played Arabic music for dining guests, most tourists from Russia. The Emirate has been invaded by newly rich Russians who buy hotels and arrange charter flights from Russia to Dubai and neighboring emirate, such as Kempinski Hotel in the Emirate of Ajman.\n\nEspecially a few years ago, the newly rich find many nice gadgets not yet to Russia. To include 20 ironing boards or some television sets as hand baggage, it thought they were perfectly normal. To babble on the phone with someone at home after last call at the Terminal, it also seemed to be perfectly OK. The flight was not dumber than that it had to wait until the newly rich finally thought it was time to Board.\n\nBibi Hammermann was now dressed in t-shirt and jeans, but no bra. Something different from me, I had dressed me nicely to go out and eat. Bibi saw that I reacted and countered that she felt more natural like this. Expensive clothes are for capitalists, she claimed she didn't care that the Arabs did not think that the dress code was really appropriate.\n\n\"They should learn our democracy,\" she thought. \"It has worked well in America so it works safely everywhere. As former Vice President Al Gore says.\"\n\nShe told me that Paul \"Monkey\" was a prick. Without going into details, she stated that Paul made the strange business. He managed to give greater return on investors ' money than others. And he traded options in diamonds. At the same time he speculated in currencies. My question as if it had something to do with Sierra Leone became the answer somewhat evasive that there was plenty of diamonds in West Africa.\n\nAbout herself then? Yes she was not at all in the same industry as Paul, but she was invited as a \"personal friend\". But she also started to tell me about that she had some contacts with the top people in the financial world. I was just a simple computer consultant, but my friend was interested in West Africa for some reason.\n\n\"That is why I asked if you had any contacts in West Africa, for example, in Sierra Leone. African countries with good economy can perhaps be good for future business, even for data consultants. \"\n\nBibi became silent for a while, which was remarkable. It was the first time she fell silent then I got to know her. She talked a lot, but was relatively interesting, nevertheless.\n\n\"It was funny you asked, actually, I have some interesting contacts that would be valuable. Who is your friend? \"she asks seemingly innocent. \"I feel actually part professionals who may be interested. In the case of sufficiently large amount of course. \"\n\n\"Sorry, dear Bibi, it is confidential until further notice. The reason why I was at the party last night and I am sitting here with you, is that my friend does not want to appear. Therefore, I am looking for a suitable advisor to the person in question. \"\n\n\"I want to meet him!\"\n\n\"Who?\"\n\n\"Your friend who wants advice!\"\n\nShe knew, of course, that my friend was not a she and I wasn't going to take her out of the delusion.\n\n\"Do you want to use Paul as a reference?\" I ask innocent. \"Anyone who can certify that you are a capable of getting advisors.\"\n\nAs I suspected she wanted to not use Paul as a reference. In fact, she began to withdraw from a number of ugly words, some so bad that my knowledge of the American language is not really enough. We Scots are relatively innocent when it comes to foul language. At least in English, Scottish dialect is something else entirely. Totally impossible to translate to American English.\n\n\"He works as if he sold used cars,\" she says. \"Imagine that you have an old car that you want to sell. He who buys is taking a loan from the local bank. As security is the car. The local bank sells its receivables to the Government-sponsored big Bank, Big Mad. the customer who bought the car has no money and cannot pay. After a few months the bailiff takes the car. The customer is happy, he has used the car for several months almost for free. The small Bank is also happy, they've sold their claim on to big bank. Where the little credit losses among the big losses. \"\n\n\"Oh well,\" I say when, \"it sounds as if you want to tell me?\"\n\n\"Quite right. A logical thinking computer Huckster can perhaps draw some obvious conclusions in the larger context. \"\n\nWhile Bibi resumed their stinking sulfur oaths I took a walk to look for a toilet. Now I had become suspicious of everything, because my eyes around the tables to see if I knew someone.\n\nActually, I saw someone like Paul's employee in the second-hand bookshop. He sat there together with the lanky South African who I've seen at the party along with Paul and Bibi. At the table were a few Westerners that I couldn't place.\n\nWhen I returned to Bibi, she sat still and small swearing over Paul and his business practices. I asked if she knew the cranky gentleman who were wined and dined together with Paul's aide.\n\n\"A prick\", exclaimed Bibi. \"Gunner works in oil, maybe. But he's mingling in many industries and parties. \"\n\n\"Just like you\", I venture to say.\n\n\"Just right\", was the answer. No excuses there.\n\n\"He is also interested in Sierra Leone?\"\n\n\"Yes, but not by the starving population. Gunner Agbosch is maybe from South Africa but have interests all around the world. He's exploring for oil and minerals, where to find them, right now specializes in West Africa, where there is much that is not investigated yet. He also has a foot inside of de Beers, you know those that control diamond price in this world. \"\n\nYes, I had heard of de Beers.\n\nThe view from the dinner table aboard this dhow was magnificent. For less than 50 years ago, this was a small fishing village, populated by Pearl fishermen and some Bedouins. Now the towering skyscrapers around the creek, all different shapes and colors. Sometimes with Arab influence, sometimes only in accordance with the architect's imagination. Not at least see Dubai Creek Golf & Yacht Club most like a giant butterfly in distress.\n\nThe Dhow is back, and before I can say a word I get a wet kiss on the mouth and:\n\n\"Goodbye little Ham, visit me in The Big Apple, maybe I'll buy some computers from you!\" She throws herself into a taxi and disappeared.\n\nSomeone is attacking The Market\n\nBernard calls from his Data Center somewhere. It is very rare that he will contact over the phone, it's usually enough with an email or chat.\n\n\"What gives?\" I ask, of course,\n\n\"Your friend Paul is very active on the two markets, on the one hand, he buys a lot of Leone, it is the currency of Sierra Leone. On the other hand, he is very active on diamond exchange in Dubai. \"\n\nHis reference to my friend Paul referred to as ' the monkey ' Paul Anolodimitrakis.\n\n\"What do you mean the diamond exchange in Dubai? I thought it was in Antwerp they had a diamond exchange.\"\n\n\"Quite right, but Dubai is competing with Belgian Antwerp about the role of the world's diamond center. Here are many of the most affluent customers. The region around the Persian Gulf is the third-largest consumer market of jewels in the world, after the United States and Japan. There is a free zone where companies can shop tax free with precious stones, gold and pearls. Dubai has also built up a diamond exchange, Dubai Diamond Exchange, one of three in the world with international standard the Kimberley Process Certification Scheme (KPCS)\"\n\nThe purpose of the KPCS is to prevent the trade in rough diamonds as a source of financing for the armed conflict and to protect the legal trade operators. Governments, industry representatives and NGOs have been running on the work that led to a UN resolution 2000. The name comes from the place where the producing State representatives held the first meeting. One of those who have been most numerous in Sierra Leone's diamonds is Charles Taylor, the rebel leader and former dictator in Liberia.\n\nDiamonds have been a major cause of conflict and have also funded many armed conflicts, particularly in Africa. Examples of these are Angola, Congo, Liberia and Sierra Leone. Often diamonds are swapped against weapons from former Eastern bloc countries.\n\nWe also learned that there is now a trading floor on 1500 square meters, what you now should have a trading floor to in this era of wireless electronics. There are private rooms to see the diamonds and sophisticated instruments to inspect the diamonds.\n\nIf you want to ship a consignment of diamonds to or from trading floor, there are all the services available. In addition there is a comprehensive digital system to keep track of all the trades. The diamond exchange in Dubai has also become a venue for the Israelis and the Arabs. The Jews have nothing against taking advantage of business opportunities in the Arabian Peninsula.\n\n\"How will we access the trades made on the diamond exchange?\" is my next question.\n\n\"To begin with it is rather official stores, much like a stock exchange. Of course there are shills and odd companies not signs with their owners. But most can be traced in various companies register here and there. \"\n\n\"I'm pretty good at diamonds,\" interjects Naimee, \"Let's do a field trip in the Almas Tower, or The Diamond Tower translated from Arabic-English into plain language.\"\n\nSaid and done. We go to Sheikh Zayed Road towards Jumeria area, where the largest and fanciest seaside hotels are located. One can't help but to be impressed by all the skyscrapers of all kinds in this city. And all the time it is built more and more. Surprisingly the need to build such tall buildings when there is an infinite desert to spread out on.\n\nIn the Almas Tower is also the sale of diamonds and pearls to ordinary people. Well, even wealthy people are counted as normal people. With the help of a caretaker, we did visit a showroom where you could inspect any of the diamonds that were for sale. On the cool Office were two well-dressed men and a set of instruments that customers could use to check the quality of precious stones.\n\nNaimee left a business card that apparently impressed the well-dressed gentlemen. She apparently knew what she was doing. After asking about the origin of some samples, she used the Office's test equipment.\n\n\"Here we have a fine specimen from The Diamond Cut with the unique grinding with 99 facets.\"\n\n\"That's right, according to the Qur'an, Allah had 99 names.\" interjects Naimee.\n\nAfter discussing the price for a while, she asked if there was a lot of rough diamonds for sale. After the exhibition at knowledge from our side was that natural.\n\nThere were a few batches of rough diamonds, but then we have to go through some broker on the exchange floor in order to place a bid. We got the name of a broker that we took with us to check with Bernard and other sources.\n\nWe did not decid for the internationally renowned Crystal Corporation, but for the local merchant Ranthambore Gems, with branches to diamond grinders in India.\n\nWith the help of Mr. Ranthambore himself as the contact on the exchange floor would we try to derive the diamonds from Sierra Leone, namely the wholesale diamonds that could come from that we really were looking for, Naimee's \"treasure chests\".\n\nWe introduced us to Mr. Ranthambore as interested buyers of a consignment of diamonds from Sierra Leone. We also discussed whether the Kimberly certification without directly go into if we were interested in the non certified diamonds.\n\n\"Give me two days,\" said Mr. Ranthambore, \"so are you going to get information.\"\n\nSure enough, two days later will return Mr. Ranthambore with the announcement that the activity of West African diamonds were a little higher than normal. We were invited to participate in the bidding and were asked about the amount we could go in with.\n\nIt was the moment we had concerns, we had of course not as much money to invest. Naimee's capital were on the market in the form of diamonds outside her control and my resources were negligible. This should be a time when we would have the benefit of Ms. Koskenkorva, but she was missing.\n\nWe asked who the seller was, we got the name of a couple of brokers, but Mr. Ranthambore was unable to provide us with information about it, or those who were the real sellers. Confidential, claimed he.\n\n\"Great,\" said Naimee and lighthouses of one of their broad smiles. \"We will be back with bank guarantees for a couple of days. Thanks so far for the help. \"\n\nThe Gunner\n\nReturned to the hotel, we have a meeting about how we move forward. One of the brokerage firms called Mosselbaai Traiding. Judging by the name, it might be some connection to South Africa. Moreover, there was an American agent in the picture, B & H International Investment Advisor.\n\nI emailed the information to our super hacker Bernard for further investigations. Pending on answers, we took a bite to eat at little domestic restaurant. Domestic and domestic, it was powered by a pair of Lebanese. It was a restaurant belonging to the hole-in-the-wall, that is to say that there were a few tables on the sidewalk, a few tables under the roof and inside there was the kitchen.\n\nMosselbaai Traiding turned out to be a company with roots in South Africa, not so strange that they were included in the trade in diamonds. The Board Chairman was called Gunner Agbosch, a name that we now know.\n\nB & H International Investment Advisor turned out to have headquarters in Singapore, for neither the Board of directors or employees rang any bells of recognition. Somehow, we need to get deeper into that company. Nor had Bernard something to tell about any clients who could be linked to our project. I asked Bernard to keep track of large transactions in companies with links to the diamond exchange in Dubai.\n\nIn the meantime, we must then put up some kind of strategy to move forward. We could conceivably place a bid on an item the diamonds on stock market and if so, how we could finance this.\n\n\"We have Bernard\", I said. \"One of the owners of Mosselbaai Traiding is actually a private bank in South Africa, North Cape Bank. I'll check if he can produce a bank guarantee from the Bank as our diamond broker can accept. \"\n\n\"It sounds good,\" said Randolph, \"but surely we cannot present a bank guarantee, shop for diamonds and then just slip away. We will be chased by a bunch of cops, of course. \"\n\n\"In addition, we do not defraud the Bank, it is The Gunner will pay!\", Naimee agree.\n\n\"On the one hand, The Gunner to pay, in addition, must not the tracks lead to us.\"\n\n\"We are doing something illegal now?\"\n\n\"Since The Gunner is a big shot and probably a part-owner of the Bank is to implement something quickly so that he will not find out what is happening before it's too late.\"\n\n\"We are doing something illegal now?\"\n\n\"Well ... illegal, we may be able to return the diamonds when and if we managed to establish whether or not they belong to Naimee.\"\n\nI contacted Bernard to see if he actually would be able to produce a bank guarantee this way. He claimed that it was a piece of cake.\n\nWe decided he would early next day control a bank guarantee from North Cape Bank that we could get at a bank here in Sharjah. With it in hand we would rush to our brokers and buying a post of diamonds from Mr. Gunners broker. It was not entirely good, we wanted to actually be anonymous.\n\nThat leaves the question of how we would be able to buy the diamonds anonymously. Once again got Bernard to act by using his hyper inventive computers. Or if it was Bernard who was resourceful. On the stock markets is the quick Jolt, a million is not so very big post, therefore not controlled double. Bernard designed a buy order through the North Cape Bank certified by an official who was on vacation. On the stock market, the purchase order is OK in computers and as long as no one asks the person who issued it. This means that we do not appear to be involved at all.\n\n\"Here we go!\" determines Naimee, it's her diamonds and her risk in the first place.\n\nThe Gunner apparently kept on putting \"their\" diamonds for cash. According to our broker was released several items to the stock exchange, but not more than that prices remained at moderate levels.\n\nThe next problem was to physically really get the diamonds in our hand. Most of the transactions on the Exchange are a just paper transaction, that is to say that you own a post of diamonds which they sell on to any other customer. In this case, we wanted them delivered to a safe place where our expert could review them.\n\nWe got the diamonds delivered to a diamond cutter in Antwerp that Naimee knew from their time in Sierra Leone. We got later confirmed that the diamonds that we purchased and delivered to him actually came from Sierra Leone.\n\nThe Gunner was to buy Sierra Leone-currency that he in turn invested in another country or company. According to Bernard who tried to follow it over the Internet. He kept on trying to undermine a currency in Northern Europe, a currency outside the euro. After the recent financial crisis, it was not so difficult to spread rumors and getting other investors in the same track. The Gunner could not on its own carry out such a large project.\n\nIt could be a reason that he was in Dubai and socialized with the family bin Laden and other financial peaks here. We had perhaps been a conspiracy on the tracks.\n\nNow we must confront The Gunner with a diamond from Sierra Leone and Naimee would get back their property. Naimee had some documents that could substantiate this, and with a diamond in his hand, we would push The Gunner.\n\nGunner Agbosch was currently in South Africa, therefore time for an excursion there. Again. The diamond came from Antwerp and we flew to Cape Town for a meeting that I agreed with The Gunner. I managed to actually book an appointment with the pretext that I wanted to present a new revolutionary banking system that would fit perfectly for North Cape Bank. Why the Bank was called the North Cape with its seat at South Cape was a little strange. I booked the meeting was due to a number of times but Naimee tried but Agbosch always had something to blame for failing to meet Naimee face-to-face. Or maybe a tooth for a tooth.\n\nWe found Agbosch's Office on the V & A Waterfront, Lower Mall with panoramic windows facing the ocean towards Robben Island. Naimee and I walked in to the Agbosch, sir Randolph stayed outside until further notice. The Gunner seemed without noticing and dictated anything for a Secretary while he talked on the phone and wrote for fully in a Notepad with illegible handwriting.\n\nWhen he looked up, his eyes slipped past us without recognition. Not even when I introduced myself and Naimee Kargbo he seemed not particularly surprised.\n\nActually, I have an interesting computer system that I can present. But first Ms. Kargbo a fascinating case, \"I started.\n\nWithout raising an eyebrow or lifting the pencil from the paper he said \"OK\"\n\nNaimee explained that she was there to pick out a casket with jewels which have been deposited with the Gunner Agbosch by her late husband, the former head of the central bank of Sierra Leone.\n\n\"I have never heard of,\" said Agbosch and continues to write with a seemingly illegible handwriting. On the desk was a computer, but it didn't seem to be used.\n\nNaimee continued the argument and presented copies of some documents, and added the last a bit rough diamond at the top of the small stack of pages.\n\nThen he stopped and picked up the diamond, took out a magnifying glass out of the desk drawer to take a closer look at the diamond. Magnifying glass did not seem so remarkable, but already a magnification of ten times might be enough for an expert.\n\n\"May very well be a diamond from West Africa, where have you got it?\"\n\nNaimee began to explain and repeat a bit of what she said about herself before. She apparently believed that Agbosch had not listened, he had seemed a bit absent-minded and noted all the time.\n\n\"Yes, Yes, I heard it already the first time, I want to know what mine it comes from.\"\n\nI began to think that Agbosch was one of the few who could converse about anything and write about something entirely different. I had met someone earlier at the Conference table. When I glanced at his notes, I saw that he had written a memo about the country's gasoline stations at the same time as he discussed a major investment.\n\n\"It is part of the party that my husband deposited with you,\" claimed Naimee.\n\n\"Deposited with me? I have no memory of. Have you any receipt maybe?\" Asked Agbosch.\n\nNaimee took out one of the documents that she had just put on the desktop.\n\n\"Here is the document from my husband that he should have deposited a box of diamonds.\n\n\"But no receipt from me or any bank?\"\n\n\"It's like what is the point of the whole transaction, it was an entirely private history in which there would be no official document.\"\n\n\"So, if I have your business card should I look into it and come back. Thank you for visiting and have a nice day! \"\n\nWe added cards with we lived in Cape Town and told us to come back tomorrow before we travelled on.\n\nReturned to the hotel we see on TV that there is unrest in Sierra Leone and there are movements in the foreign exchange market. For example, the major movements in the United Arab Emirates Dirham, Sierra Leone's Leone and Swedish kronor for some reason.\n\nWhen I am going to take out money in the ATM, I get told that there is no money in my account. Naimee also trying and accessed the same information despite the fact that she has her account in another bank in another country.\n\nWhen we call Gunner Agbosch he says that there has been something wrong with the banking system in Cape Town but that he will try to fix it if he can get information on where some diamonds from the Dubai Stock Exchange gone. Then he can also consider investing in a new computer system!\n\nAlthough he owns a bank he can hardly block the accounts without further notice. He may have hired a hacker just to show what he can do.\n\nFortunately, we have Sir Randolph and his bank accounts work – so far anyway. Then it's time for us to make a countermove. First, we contact our in-house hacker Bernard to try to figure out how our bank accounts have been blocked. He notes that we have large debts registered with British bailiffs and collection and payment defaults, which means that it is somewhat complicated to fix the latch.\n\nCan we do something clever response?\n\nHow do we get him to admit that he has Naimee's diamonds and how do we get them back?\n\n\"I think I'll go to New York to sell aome computers\", I suggest.\n\n\"I think we make a not announced visit to Agbosch Office\". It is sir Raffe proposal.\n\n\"I think we eat a good dinner on The Anker\" is Naimee's proposal and it is she who decides.\n\nThe dinner was delicious, it began with Toast Cannibale, a delicacy for Belgians and other cannibals. The Anker is a Belgian restaurant in the V & A Waterfront. We sat on the terrace with a view both to the Agbosch Office and Table Mountain in the other direction. While we ate Kingclip Buerre Blanc and drank The Anker's own beer, we discussed the possibility of taking us into Agbosch's Office to do something mischief. Or gain access to their computers. The intention was not to steal more than information. With your coffee, we took a whole carton Belgian chocolates while we honed plans. I wonder why Naimee chose a Belgian restaurant, maybe to get a sense of the diamond grinders capital, Antwerp.\n\nThat we were considering visiting the Agbosch offices at night was the entrance to the Office did not go through the Bank but that it was a separate extended part. With sir Raffe eminent burglar knowledge and my knowledge of computers, maybe we could get something.\n\nRandolph made a visit to an evening open hardware store before we walked to the Office. The door was locked with code lock but we snuck in when an overtime-working clerk went out. We left Naimee as backup and took us lightly in the Agbosch Office. Appropriately enough, he had a right analog calendar on his desktop, the quotations were next illegible but I photographed a number of pages with my cell phone. Randolph did the same thing with the Secretary's Almanac. I turned on the computer, it was fully open without password but did not seem to contain anything special. Agbosch was probably not especially loves computers, it seemed.\n\nWe logged on to the Internet using both Agbosch's and Secretary's computers and contacted Bernard so that he would be able to put surveillance on them.\n\nNaimee called and announced that a security company was at the opening. Probably a routine inspection, but it could of course be a silent alarm that we had on. We took us quickly out into the corridor, locked the door to the Office, looked out at the nearest broom closet and hid behind a cleaning machine at the back of the corner.\n\nGuard companies personnel in South Africa are tough types and heavily armed. We wanted to avoid them, of course. We probably had triggered some alarm, the guards went directly to Agbosch Office, felt at the door, locked up and went in. We could hear from our position in the cleaning cupboard.\n\nWe could have snagged on a surveillance camera leaving fingerprints. I silently swore over that we have been clumsy. The guard guys had been eyeing the Office but went across the hallway and felt about some of the doors were open. As it was to the cleaning cupboard, they opened it and lit with a torch.\n\nWe kept the spirit and did not move there we sat curled up in the corner. If they saw us, we would be in trouble. We could hardly talk us out of this and to be locked up in a South African police station did not seem to be anything to maintain a following.\n\nThe guards spoke Afrikaans with each other which is I understood very little of, however, reacted Randolph, he could probably the language from the time as a mercenary in Africa.\n\nThe guards had been ordered to shoot first and ask questions later Randolph explained later. But they also believed that it was a false alarm because they could not see any trace of any burglary. It also did that the cleaning cupboard that they not inspected particularly carefully so we could breathe a sigh of relief when they closed the door and eventually retreats.\n\nTime to go away as quickly as possible, we noted. But that was easier said than done, the guard company's car was still standing outside the gate.\n\nWe called and explained the situation, Naimee, told her to get in a taxi and get us on the back. We found a back door, which perhaps also was alarmed, and rushed out into the street where a taxi with Naimee much really got moving.\n\n\"Time to escape out of the country,\" I suggested. \"If we stay there may be trouble. Agbosch can have good relationships with police in Cape Town. \"\n\n\"OK! Towards The Big Apple! \"\n\n\"Pack immediately, we will take the first plane to Europe!\"\n\nIt turned out to be Air Berlin directly to Munich, of all places. Whether someone was looking after us or not so we went to New York and was there fairly jaded 42 hours later.\n\nNew York New York\n\nWe did not succeed particularly well to get Gunner Agbosch to relinquish some diamonds. Number two on the list was the mysterious Bibi Hammermann. An employment officer in the United States? How could it be? The third on the list, Paul \"the monkey\" Anolodimitrakis wanted to we love to meet, but he was one of us, unknown location.\n\nWe got now live on our sir Rondolp's credit card, ours were still blocked by The Gunner. We got Randolph to withdraw cash for us. Cash is unusual in New York, but necessity has no law, it's said. Randolph was not poor, he did well even as I write the expense report to Naimee, she would surely be unnecessarily rich when we got off her diamonds.\n\nOf course, I took on the visiting Bibi in the Office. I had her address from the business card and the last thing she said when we parted in Dubai was that I was welcome to New York, she even was prepared to buy some computers by me.\n\nMorning at Wall Street seemed to be busy. There was concern in some markets. Some world-leading telecom companies in Scandinavia began to drop on the stock market, the Swedish Krona also began to be frizzy. Unconfirmed rumors claimed that the Swedish official statistics were wrong. Again! U S Motorola also fell while the Chinese Huawei took market share from competitors. In the background there was also unrest in Sierra Leone and the price of gold and precious stone steps. The latter was well good, for our part, while turmoil in the stock markets did not affect us. Maybe.\n\nWe took in at a budget hotel in Central New York – Yes, there are such even in lower Manhattan if you do not want to have too much luxury. The next morning when it was time at locate Hammermann, it appeared that the Office certainly existed in the financial district yet very secluded. Semi basement in one of the most magnificent houses there. New York should be impressive with all skyscrapers. It was difficult to find the Sun between the houses, perhaps typical of big city New York. But compared to Dubai where this city not so overwhelming, in fact.\n\nThe Office was small, there were half a dozen co-workers sitting in furniture from IKEA. I thought about what impression it was intended to give to the job seekers, who they were.\n\n\"Hi Ham!\" exclaims a free wearing Bibi. She rushed up and embraced me as if I had been her rediscovered boyfriend since childhood. But it was not, of course, we had talked at over a good Arab dinner on a dhow in Dubai, that's all.\n\nHaving regained the lost air after her bear hug I regained composure and was able to ask:\n\n\"And how many computers you need ...\"\n\n\"Silly you don't, you're not here to sell computers!\"\n\n\"Uh, what can I want?\"\n\n\"What was it like in the where shithole Agbosch? Were there any shops in precious stones? \"\n\nThere had not been some business with the good Agbosch. And she knew that apparently. What came to me to ask how she could know so much about me and my business.\n\nShe explained that she was no ordinary employment agents. I had, of course, suspicious that she was not. What she did was to lease finance experts to various customers, both small and large companies and rich individuals. Therefore, she needed to keep track of the industry and its weak and strong suit.\n\n\"If you have shares in Anderson, sell them immediately!\"\n\nIt tallied with the news we heard this morning about the problems with the price of electronics giant. One that had many Anderson shares was Randolph, that he had told as recently as yesterday.\n\n\"I don't care about the Anderson, I looking for diamonds!\", I say quietly.\n\n\"And how would I be able to know something about diamonds from Sierra Leone?\", she asks, and pre-eminently admitted that she knew a lot about Diamonds from Sierra Leone. Now I was no longer surprised that she knew a lot about me and probably even my co-workers.\n\n\"How do you have it with the Governor's wife? An attractive woman that leads many to give their services based on some tall story about treasures from Sierra Leone. She has jumped into bed with you yet? \"\n\nCool type, Bibi Hammermann. Not without reason was called for The Hammer. And Agbosch was called The Gunner. While the Anolodimitrakis was called The Monkey. A creeping sense of being a pawn in a game overcame me. The worst part was that I didn't know the rules of the game. It was others who moved the tiles, and one of the tiles was me.\n\n\"How do you have it yourself? I presume that you jumped into bed with that Bank Director. That it was once there you built up some kind of confidence and that is why you are involved in the so called \"tall story!\"\n\nOffense is the best defense I have learned in the Scottish national sport of rugby.\n\nIn fact, she was silent for several seconds before she exclaimed:\n\n\"Gee, now we go and eat!\"\n\nWe took the course at the nearest eatery. I blinked to Naimee when we passed. She was outside to keep tabs on me. She looked slightly jealously at me when I arm-in-arm with a hottie well shaped blonde walked past her.\n\n\"Hello there\", said Bibi \"do You flirt with all alien woman?\"\n\nIt revealed actually one thing, Bibi did not know Naimee in appearance, always a score to me.\n\nBibi steered us to a booth at the restaurant was empty. Maybe it was her standard booth for interviews with financial experts. Now it was me she wanted to grill, first to ask what I had doing since our last meeting. I told so honestly I could that we had been in Cape Town, but tried not to tell what we talked about with Agbosch and others.\n\nBibi was a professional interviewer, I noticed. I was a capable negotiator, I imagined myself in all cases. I was hoping I was just as good against Bibi as I was when I was negotiating a major order of computers. It is important to point out what you want to highlight and to lie low with weaknesses. But without danger with falsehoods, but maybe not the whole truth.\n\nI tried to go to attack with that I knew she was involved in \"tall story\". Without admitting that she was involved, she gave at least some factual information.\n\nWe ended up eventually in stalemate -situation. Stalemate is a position in chess where the player is on move cannot do any valid move but not stand in check.\n\n\"I want to make an offer. As you know, I want to put in Agbosch bastard. If you can help me with this, I have information that you may find useful, economic benefits. Pretty big economic benefits, actually. \"States Bibi.\n\n\"Where get 'the Monkey' Anolodimitrakis into the picture?\" is my question.\n\n\"Think about it!\"says Bibi, gives me a big wet kiss on my mouth and disappeared into the crowd on Wall Street.\n\nNaimee will emerge from a nearby cubicle and staring wide-eyed at me.\n\n\"What did you and that magpie agree on?\"\n\nIt does not stop to be amazed at how women, including business women, showing there emotions vis-à-vis competitors of the same sex.\n\n\"Nothing,\" I reply, \"it was stalemate.\"\n\n\"Enough, I saw that she had nice knockers!\" She ranges the eyes of me, she is near, only a few centimeters away. She looks to be able to spray sulphur and fire per immediately why I quickly clarify myself:\n\n\"Stalemate means a draw in chess, at least in Scotland.\"\n\nShe backed off a few centimeters from my face and seemed like she did not know if I drove with her or not. It was not a direct threat, but Scottish and her oxford English was fairly understandable.\n\nMy Scottish was of the more easy-to-understand variety. Many years ago when I attended a Conference at the Dorchester Hotel in Chelsea in London, asked an Englishman a participant from Europe if he understood what Scotland's then-coach, Jock Stein, said. It was in the context of a match which was shown on TV that it was an interview with Jock Stein. The man from Europe pulled a little on it but probably thought he understood him pretty good. \"I understand nothing of what that scots says,\" said the Englishman.\n\n\"What do you think about a little visit to the Hammermann's Office in the night?\" It is, of course, our own intrusion expert, Randolph, who proposes this.\n\n\"I don't think so, what I could see, there were surveillance cameras and armed guards in the House.\" I had had my eye open when I visited the Office. I also saw a note on the Hammermann's desk about something called B & H Investments. It rang a Bell in my head that I knew the company. An email to Bernard, our favorite hacker, of little assistance. This time, he dug deeper among the owners and it turned out that Miss Hammermann was the owner of another company which, in turn, was the principal owner of the B & H international Investments Inc., based in Singapore.\n\n\"Perfect!\" exclaims Sir Randolph, \"Singapore is almost my home port!\"\n\n\"We are in the tourist industry, perhaps. We travel around the world and looking for ghosts. How is your travel budget, Naimee? \"\n\nWe discussed what we could do in New York. Probably nothing because my Scottish charm did not seem to work on Bibi Hammermann. Could there be more clues in Sierra Leone? It seemed to be an escalation of the brawl that tended to be an escalation toward civil war. It was one of our famous people, for example, Agbosch that could affect this? Someone who financed a group of rebels who would show their gratitude by renting out mining operations to friendly companies rather than maintain revenues in the State? The rebels were not even insurgents, they were simply criminal gangs who took the diamonds totally for themselves. They had no desire to move to Freetown and take over the governance of the country. But to the media they spread the rumor, of course, that they were the poorest side. And because the State was through corrupt, it was not certain that a State ownership was the best for the population.\n\nWe had a practical example of this corruption, in the form of a bunch of diamonds that we were looking for and that the former Governor of Sierra Leone had taken care of.\n\nOur track in South Africa, The Gunner, was inaccessible to us right now what we could see.\n\nIn the midst of our brain storming called mobile phone from my headquarters in Scotland. The accounting manager asked what I was doing because a couple of deals that we made in Africa and the Middle East had been stopped. Some of our larger customers had suddenly stated that there would be no deliveries until further notice. In addition, our main supplier of disk drives in Singapore delivery problems for some unspecified reason.\n\n\"OK, I go to Singapore to meet with the provider. Our Sales Director for Africa and the Middle East must take on our customers where \", I decided. I was a part-owner and Vice President of the company with responsibility for, among other things, Africa and Asia. At the same time, I asked our Finance Manager to open an account in the Bank of Scotland and fix credit cards that I would get out of the Office in Singapore.\n\nSingapore Airlines is a very good airline, flight attendants are quite exceptional. We left JFK in New York 11.15 and after a stopover in Frankfurt we were in Singapore at 6.30 am the next day. We, that is to say, Naimee, costed at us first class was lucky.\n\nFirst, we visited the Bank of Scotland in Singapore Land Tower at Raffles Place, I must of course obtain a Master Card in order to survive. Plastic cards are not very exciting when you have it in your wallet, but when cash machines swallow the card gets you less happy.\n\nI took the opportunity to meet with the bank manager, a Scotsman from my hometown, actually. First, I wanted to get an idea of how easy it would be to block my old card. Somehow it had popped up a barrier that really could only be initiated by a credit manager at the Bank. I of course asked who it was and what I could do about it. By the block judging, it was someone in senior management who had placed the hold, but when he tried to lift it, it did not work.\n\nFirst, no one in the Bank accepted responsibility for the blocking, and besides, it was apparently some system failures that meant I was apparently completely broke. Either conspired Agbosch, if it was he, with some big shots in the Bank, or was it a hacker on the go who had hacked into the Bank's system. Which would be totally impossible said my friend the bank Director in Singapore. I have to check with Bernard as soon as possible.\n\nHowever, I had some success when I asked about B & H Investment. A small company that was created to West Africa and Scandinavia. A somewhat odd combination, but it was more or less serious investment consultants, not least in Singapore and Hong Kong. B & H-the Office was located in one of the skyscrapers in downtown Singapore. Perhaps I've said it before, Singapore is the most well-kept city that I met. I mean appearance, manicured grass platelets, beautiful buildings and neat people on the streets. Singapore was actually snazzier than Dubai. Even if the cities had some similarities to cool buildings, one more elegant than the other, this was slightly less extravagance and a bit more stylish than in Dubai.\n\nThe night was getting late and we took on dear old Raffles Hotel, after two Tiger beer we flopped out were alone in their room. It is tiring to fly to the other side of the Earth, the time seemed completely dislocated.\n\nBecause I and Naimee could be somehow known by B & H-the people, it was time for Randolph to make little use of the allowance. He did so with a vengeance. It turned out that both Bibi and \"the monkey\" was in the Office when Randolph discussed the investment with a financial advisor at the Office. When he wanted to invest in Sierra Leone, he was looked after by Bibi himself, who along with Anolodimitrakis tried to persuade sir Randolph to invest in Bull & Bear certificates in diamonds. Sounds like the name of a Scottish pub in Aberdeen, but it was more money than a few pint lager.\n\nBull-certificate gives you twice the daily developments in the market to which the certificate is linked to. For example, the price of oil will rise by 2 percent a day, rising 4 per cent Bull-certificate that day. Conversely, falling oil prices by 2 per cent fall Bull-the certificate's value by 4 per cent on the same day, says Bibi. Bear works the same, but vice versa. Bull & Bear simply means that one speculates in an upswing or decline for commodities, currencies or stock development for example.\n\nFun form of investment if you have insider information in any way. Bibi and Monkey claimed that they did it, and that they almost could guarantee the rise or decline of a few well chosen certificate. They suggested the diamonds and a currency, namely Swedish kronor.\n\nRandolph asked what was going on in Sweden, they claimed that it would happen with the currency and a major Swedish companies. Law invested gives it many times back, was the message.\n\n\"Should we sell Agbosch, i.e. Naimees, diamonds and invest in a bull or bear?\" I ask innocently. Naimee gives me not the big smile I am used to, she looks awesome on me and snaps with a blazing gaze.\n\nNaimee has been sour for several days, she used to be so exuberant. She may have been hit by diamond ague now that she is so close and yet so far away from their loved ones Sierra diamonds.\n\nNow it was maybe not such a bad idea to test their proposals, to start with, on a small scale, of course. They had recommended to invest in Swedish krona would to fall, we opted instead to 10,000 US dollars on the SEC would rise. In a few days we were able to cash win or get back what was left of the Crown has gone the wrong way. As fun as playing on horses, at least.\n\nOn my little tiny computer I linked up with the stock exchanges on the net to get a picture of what was happening in the financial world. It was clear that there was unrest in several markets, especially in Scandinavia. The Scandinavian stock exchanges were nervous, especially where the development of the Swedish telecom company Anderson hard to read.\n\nThe telecommunications industry in General went fairly well, but Anderson's Managing Director had made a couple of mysterious statements. He suspected some kind of hostile takeover. A little strange, Anderson's share were on multiple exchanges and well dispersed, it would be difficult to operate.\n\nAnderson's financial director with the name, however, had Finnish sounded Suomalainen made a statement in the tabloids where he stated that everything was hunky-dory, new orders were coming in.\n\nWhy I was interested in was Anderson, well I had gotten a tip by someone not long ago to watch out the Swedish kronor and especially with the company Anderson.\n\nI googled ahead and also found that Bull and Bear certificates seemed to be the new craze on the financial market. Junk bonds and pyramid schemes were well out of date.\n\nA week later it turned out that our testing of Bull and Bear was a stroke of luck, the course went contrary to what we had been recommended, and it turned out that the recommendations were not so good.\n\nSir Randolph strode up to the B & H a week later to collect the prize on the certificate. No, by no means. Failed. Neither Bibi or Monkey was there but the local chief showed off the fine print which meant that the certificate was locked in two years. Randolph threatened, of course with their best advocate, but the bet is not at all on the B & H-Manager. Randolph had signed. Full stop.\n\nWe had found a way that B & H funded activities. Many small streams could be several million dollars if the streams were enough. What could we do about it? Until further notice, we had to be content with the fact that we had found a foam form of financing that we could have the benefit of knowing the future.\n\nWe discussed about what Bibi and the monkey and maybe Agbosch was looking for. If they had taken care of Naimees diamonds and traded them to cash, how had the supposed deal with such large amounts. Of course, it could just be making themselves rich, but it could also be that they wanted to be unnecessarily rich by taking control of something big. We remember the financial collapse in Iceland when an entire country essentially became insolvent. But in Iceland's case had been United Kingdom save most of it by supporting the British part of Iceland's banks. They failed to do so, unclear why. May have been someone in the financial world, which for some reason got the British Act so that he any did a good deal?\n\nIt felt as if we were stuck, I had probably been a little too optimistic when I thought I could help find the missing treasure from Sierra Leone. While we in the media hear and see small elements of the so-called rebels in Sierra Leone who is terrorizing that part of the country that have natural resources.\n\n\"How do you feel about your old homeland in West Africa?\" I ask Naimee. She had actually lived there for a few years.\n\n\"They do not care I'm in! They're not really wise!\" exclaims Naimee. \"My husband was the only decent person in a corrupt country.\"\n\n\"Despite the fact that he smuggled out a fortune in diamonds?\"\n\n\"He had plans for how they would be used.\" stresses Naimee.\n\n\"How then?\"\n\n\"Get the glitter, you see!\"\n\n\"I had intended to terminate me. I don't think I can bring so much more to this project. \"\n\n\"Nonsense, let's plan the next step. Keep in mind that I was almost a Governor in my last life. \"\n\nNow we had followed the road and located roughly who had control of them.\n\n\"Time to eliminate the three little pigs. The monkey, Bibi and Agbosch must be stopped! \". It's like Naimee steps up.\n\n\"Here I am! If you want any eliminated so am I correct man!\" yelling sir Randolph, he as been mercenary, particularly in West Africa.\n\n\"Idiot!\" are Naimee's replies, \"it's an economic war we fight. We're going to degrade some of the financial world's parasites! With unexpected actions on the border of the permitted – we'll make mincemeat of them. Also carelessness I should have control of my property. What do I owe my sainted in commemoration husband Mabinti Christian Kargbo. And you, dear Hamilton Jones\", she exclaims, \"may actually fulfill your agreement with me. We need your contacts and knowledge of the digital world in order to pursue this project.\"\n\nIt depended on what plans she had to degrade financial yuppies. I had run out of ideas right now, Randolph seemed to not take when he had sprained deceased on any purely literal. Only financial killing, he was not really used to.\n\nFirst we should concentrate on Agbosch, we was not yet clear if he cooperated with the monkey and Bibi. To my surprise the Monkey had been welcome to Bibi's Office in Singapore, despite all the stinking sulfur oaths as she said about him every time we met. Perhaps it was only a momentary disagreement which prompted the outbreaks. Or also, she had the same expression on all their colleagues when she was talking with strangers. Maybe I pulled all the wrong conclusions of her statements, it may also be the sentence.\n\nWhen it came to Bibi Hammermann, we had confirmed she is highly active in the financial industry, she was not only a labour brokers on Wall Street. The question was whether the two or three worked together in this special project or if they had greater cooperation. Maybe they only accounted for a small part of a larger organization, it was someone else who ruled and stood in the background.\n\nAttack!\n\nNaimee sent Randolph to Sierra Leone, a land he knows, and now was his job to research the background when it came to the dodgy mining operations. It could very well be that the Agbosch were in there somewhere. Maybe he thought it was his diamonds Naimee trying to recover. He could feel robbed by the Governor of Sierra Leone, perhaps.\n\nDuring the 1990 's was Sierra Leone plagued by a bloodthirsty so-called guerrilla army with support from the troubled neighboring country Liberia. The diamond trade in the Interior of Sierra Leone got a severe setback. The Government of Sierra Leone tried to remedy with the help of hired white mercenaries. The company, based in South Africa, with the utmost professional name Executive Outcomes, made short work of the Sierra Leone guerrilla and restored calm and order, at least for a time and at least around diamond fields. This could very well Agbosch be involved, was active from South Africa, although the new black regime there was not very pleased that South African companies were acting in other countries in that way.\n\nSierra Leone's diamonds are of the accessible type that can be picked up from the soil by such simple means as a shovel or a pan. It was easy to get to the diamonds areas where these were very interesting preys for all parties. The RUF guerrillas used these diamond areas to enrich its members, but perhaps above all to be able to continue funding the war.\n\nIt thus became sir Randolph's task to find the truth behind the corruption, guerrilla and mercenaries in Sierra Leone.\n\nWith the help of my favorite hacker, we noted that the Monkey had flown to London.\n\n\"Good!\" exclaims Naimee, \"I'm off to London and check out what he's up to!\"\n\nI thrived on Raffles with Singapore Sling and Tiger beer. RBS, Royal Bank of Scotland in Singapore Land Tower at Raffles Place would be my first stop in the escalating war against financial yuppies. I would arrange with the bank manager, Phil MacHale. He was from my hometown so we could have the same language and the same jokes about Scots, Englishmen and other odd nationalities.\n\nI started a little bit easy to explain what I could possibly contribute to enhancing computerization of the Singapore Office. The interest was not overwhelming so I tracked in on world bank business in General and the B & H Investments in particular. I wanted some tips on how I could proceed to to begin with to bust them for the reluctant Council about Bull and Bear that hit Randolph.\n\nUltimately, I was looking to get hold of the missing diamonds, and maybe also get an idea of the rumors of Anderson and the Swedish krona.\n\n\"They have good grub at Raffles?\" asks Phil MacHale.\n\nWe agree to meet in the Long Bar Steakhouse at Raffles in the evening. Here we enjoyed under the menu a culinary steak marinated with flavors from the Orient.\n\nMacHale was a seemingly good-natured person, short heavy and red-faced. He seemed sharpened so the red face was due probably not on too much Scotch whiskey, but a healthy lifestyle or high blood pressure. During dinner, I received an alarming phone call from my headquarters in Scotland.\n\n\"(A number of ugly words) ... What are you doing really. We lose customers, the Bank states that we are bankrupt, the taxman comes calling, and he is us on the heels. \"Thus\", says my Chairman \"you are about to take the life of your own business.\"\n\nI was one of the major shareholders of the company data, therefore absolutely responsible for it I possibly made the question is what I messed up with. Someone had tampered with official data. Agbosch? Hammermann? Anolodimitrakis?\n\nI chose to discuss the issue with my friend can be truly MacHale. I had allowed Bernard to check his references in both open and closed databases. He seemed to be a proper man who before the banking business has been captain in anti-aircraft defense.\n\n\"I'll fix it!\" was his brief answer.\n\nIn his long rant about problems with creditworthiness, he stated that it was not so hard to manipulate the bailiff, for example. It needs only that someone sent in a number of credible claims alleging that they failed to pay their bills. A credit report will then mean that it exposed the company seems to have larger or smaller payment difficulties. The Bank is reviewing the loans and so on. Especially in Scotland, we are famous for taking good care of our money.\n\nCould we do something similar against Agbosch and company? Well, there are some opportunities. We can meet the Agbosch gang with their own weapons. Their specialty is to spread rumors in particular to institutions and asset managers. Within each financial company is an individual who manages an awful lot of money for a few funds and a few investors.\n\nOn the other hand, we can try to do Agbosch and company less credible, and, on the other hand, we can try a spanner in the works for those that now seem to focus on a country and a company in Northern Europe. It seems that Agbosch & Co is involved there.\n\n\"Singapore is a great place to spread rumors from\" says MacHale. \"That's probably why they are here and have operations here. I have some friends who we can meet, such as tomorrow night, we have a Finnish sauna evening, me and some buddies. You are welcome. \"\n\nFinnish sauna I had only tried a few times in life. It would be interesting to do business without clothes for once. Strange that in this climate, 35 degrees Celsius, would sweat even more in a sauna. In this climate, you need cooling, not a sauna.\n\nIt turned out that Club One Seven could bid on three thousand square meters of sauna. Luckily, there was even a pool with ice cubes in the ice hole swimming, where you could cool off now and then. The Club had only male members, it turned out.\n\nDressed in bathrobes, we met a couple of gentlemen in the late Middle Ages in the Café. We started with the large steam room, which had previously been a bank vault, continued with the hot tub, and after a very quick dip in the facility was at least I refreshed like a Jay.\n\nWith refreshments, we entered a relax-o-room where I was introduced to the community.\n\n\"This is a friend of mine\", start MacHale \"who will revolutionize financial market. He is completely unknown in the context which may be a good start. I've been eyeing him carefully, therefore I can recommend him for the job. \"\n\nThe mission – Whoops, what it could mean. He checked me thoroughly was completely natural, even if we had the same Scottish accent.\n\nThat said, Singapore was a good place to disseminate information or misinformation in finance. The surroundings were highly cosmopolitan, it would be much more difficult in Europe. Here was the financial community represented in some skyscrapers within walking distance. It was just to get the correct entry ticket to the investors secret counsels.\n\nWe discussed the message that I would spread. I would discredit Agbosch and company while I would offer my expert comment on the telecom market in the Nordic region. To do this, I was able to not only act as a reseller of computers, I must have some financial backing with weight that could give me sufficient authority when I would hang out with the Elves.\n\nThe Chinese in the Society, had the solution. He would provide me with necessary business cards and a little light where I was hired by the Bofou Industrial Investment Fund. It is a major Chinese player on the market, unknown to many, especially to the West. Then it was time for me to mingle in the finance world's gray areas.\n\nBut first to China for a little briefing on Bofou and for making me a trustworthy financial consultant.\n\nMe and my new friend, He Jin, were taking Air China of course to Tianjin via Kuala Lumpur and Seoul. It took almost a day to get there. Tianjin is one of the West unknown city is a port city in Northeast China, with over 10 million inhabitants. The region is bordered by Beijing. The Bank's offices were a little surprising inside a pair of Gates adorned with black birds and guarded by some sort of Dragon dogs in stone.\n\nThere we met a couple of the Bank's vice presidents and I got the advertising material on the Bank, and a lecture on the Bank's objectives and business. Then a tour of the city to get the right feeling, if I represented the Bank should I have some feeling for both the company and the city. The town lies on the Haihe River and old culture, the Confucius Temple, a Grand Mosque and a little startling a United States Navy Club.\n\nNo swanky restaurant for dinner, it became Chinese food with sticks at the Office. First long into the night, I was quartered at a hotel, a wake-up call at six o'clock in the morning and fly back to Singapore. In Business Class, of course, so I could eat and sleep in peace and quiet; He Jin, who had escorted me to China, stayed a couple of days there.\n\nAt breakfast in the Tiffin Room appeared not entirely unexpectedly Phil Mac Hale from RBS. Happy laughed, early riser, he told me to mingle with an U.S. investment bank in the evening.\n\nMingle in Singapore\n\nTime to take on a whole new task. Alone in the Far East, I mingled with a few well chosen financial heads. The US investment bank was looking at to blow over rumors of faltering companies and as faltering currency in Northern Europe. Those who didn't have euro's to prop up against were easy prey. They did not say quite that, but it was the purpose. Sale while times are, was the message.\n\nIt did not make my task easier, but with a major Chinese bank in the back, I had some understanding of my views. But it is hard to convince Americans that the Chinese knew better. I had developed some mingling technology in my previous life as a computer salesman, so I sneaked around and processed one by one. I was generous with my new Chinese business cards, just as the Japanese had the native language on one side of the card and the English variant on the other side.\n\nDespite the fact that I was able to gain some superficial contacts here and there, I was probably not very successful with my message. Upon returning to the hotel somewhat depressed, I went to Tiger Bar and took me a Tiger beer. As I sat there and surfed on my little tiny computer slid a woman down on the Chair next to me.\n\nSmall, blonde and good-looking and dressed in red and white she sat silent beside me and waited for my opening reply. My first thought was that it was a hostess, but it could not sue. She was bold and obtrusive, so far tallied it. I was busy browsing the Nordic exchanges, so I ignored her and gave her a quick side glance. It was something that didn't feel right, I felt the woman in question? She was still silent and waited. I took the courage to me and began to inspect her, should I know her?\n\n\"Hello Hamilton Jones, I'm Dolly\"\n\n\"Hello Dolly!\" was the most I could come up with. It is a musical that once went to London. I saw some time ago at the Open Air Theatre in Regents Park.\n\n\"You may remember that sir Randolph got a stowaway in Mossel Bay?\"\n\n\"Aha, that Dolly! And where's the boat? \"\n\n\"It's back in the home port, that is to say, here in Singapore.\"\n\n\"And you have sailed it across the ocean back here? All alone?\"\n\nAlthough she was tanned and seemed to have spent some time in the fresh air, I had difficult to imagine that dilute woman could handle a boat alone across the Indian Ocean.\n\n\"No, I contacted Sir Randolph and I patterned on a crew Sodwana Bay in Maputaland. It is located on the coast of South Africa, where there were some poor surfer who earned a few dollars on an adventure. We sailed Sir Randolph's fine boat here.\"\n\nRaffe had not mentioned anything about that he arranged so that Charlotte Victoria had been taken care of. Of course, he would not abandon his eye, and I had forgotten to ask. Which he probably regarded as the height of ignorance.\n\n\"Have you heard anything from Randolph from Sierra Leone\", Dolly asks innocently.\n\nApparently, everyone knows where we are and what we're doing. Perhaps it was not directly a secret, but it was nothing we had talked about for the others either.\n\nThe evening went on in Tiger Bar, the bar where you meet unknown and famous people from around the world. I pulled myself to memory some time ago when I met Anneli from Finland, she turned out to be a knowledgeable finance professionals, but she was now missing. But of course, it was well Anneli who had arranged so that Dolly ended up at Raffe's boat. Dolly had perhaps track of where Anneli could be found. So I asked:\n\n\"Do you know where Anneli is. She disappeared from us in Sharjah, it maybe you also know of.\"\n\n\"We are in contact every day.\"\n\n\"Where is she?\"\n\n\"I don't know, but she is fully active in the market.\"\n\n\"Why did she disappear, and why have we not heard from her?\"\n\n\"She has other plans right now.\"\n\n\"Such as?\"\n\n\"I don't know. And if I knew I would probably not tell you. \"\n\nThe last thing she said with a gleam in his eye, as if she flirted with me. I suddenly got me to this attractive business woman had a bedroom in her eyes. Wishful thinking, I thought and tried to extort Dolly on what Anneli really was and what she had in mind.\n\nEventually it was time to hut, we did parties up to hotel rooms and in some silly way I were in her room. We had talked about various things, that is to say, it was she who talked the most. And as the most natural thing in the world, we stood next to each other and watched city views at the window of the hotel room.\n\nI was excited about her neighborhood, she was really not my type, I thought. But in some unfathomable way, I became increasingly excited. When I turned away to calm myself with a little ice water, she was suddenly in her bed. She held up the sheet inviting to entice me into bed.\n\n\"Off with your clothes!\" she ordered.\n\nI did as she said and she whistled appreciative when I took off my underpants. She had of course not Dolly Parton's shapes, but her womb was warm, inviting and explosive.\n\nSoaked in sweat and other bodily fluids puffed out after a long enjoyable cooperation when it knocked on the door.\n\n\"Have you ordered champagne?\" ask Dolly sleepily.\n\n\"Absolutely not, I have not had time. Brave woman has had my undivided attention.\"\n\nSuddenly the door opened and a porter service, and two uniformed men strolled into the room.\n\n\"Are you Hamilton Jones?\" asks the older of the men.\n\nI confirmed something questionable that it was me.\n\n\"We are from Security Watch Group (SWG), Singapore Police Force, be kind and brought to the police station!\"\n\n\"Why?\" I ask no stuttering. I knew nothing about that I would have done something criminal.\n\nNaked and sweaty, I leave the comfortable bed, where Dolly shyly hiding under the sheets.\n\nI didn't get to take a shower but just got the dress on me. In this climate, it was just a shirt, shorts and sandals, and then I was ready to follow the police.\n\nThey did not allow me to contact anyone but locked me in a cell at the police headquarters. First, they had in the usual way taken by me wallet, watch, mobile phone and belt.\n\n\"Here, you sit until tomorrow morning, you will then be questioned.\"\n\nLike everything else in this town was the cell tidy and neat. Perhaps it was here white criminals were locked up. I doubted that the natives were treated so well. But you never know, man does not stop to be surpriseed in Singapore.\n\nI had had a tough first part of night, I fell asleep on the couch and dreamed about my sexy dreams latest conquest. Rather, it was that she had conquered me, but in the dream world, it was I who was the invincible hero.\n\nEarly in the morning, I was taken to an interrogation room with two plainclothes individuals started to interrogate me about my basic data. I was full of confidence because I was absolutely convinced that it must be due to a misunderstanding.\n\nIt turned out that the Security Watch Group (SWG), Singapore Police Department for combating terrorism. It made me, of course, a little worried. They talked in some detail about what their job was and also told me that the one who was accused of being a terrorist had limited rights.\n\nThey said that they received a tip from another country where I was suspected of stealing confidential information. The data would have some connection with the armed conflict in a country where terrorists were trained.\n\nI came to think that I had had contact with Binladin Contracting Group in Dubai, but they're a reputable company. I had also taken me into others ' offices in a questionable manner, both in Sharjah and Cape Town, but it could not make me a terrorist. It was very remarkable, and I wanted as soon as possible contact with a lawyer. Now I felt no lawyer in Singapore, but through my newfound friend at Royal Bank of Scotland might well go to organize something.\n\nSo far, it was not necessary, argued for the hearers. I really was not suspected of anything, the only wanted to hear me for information.\n\nWhy they pulled me up out of a warm bed in the middle of the night and locked me in a cold cell? Concerning terrorist offences could not be too careful, they explained. With that, I got let me confine and became locked in a small cell. Because I was still totally convinced of my innocence and did not have anything else to do I fell asleep happy laughed at the somewhat hard bunk.\n\nThe questioning continued, eventually with the same interviewer. This time they went harder for me, and I became aware that it was our activities in Cape Town as they were especially interested in. Now I became more convinced that I needed a lawyer. Since it had a terrorist stamp on the crime I still was rejected such.\n\nAccording to the tip of South Africa, I had along with anyone else taken me into an Office in Cape Town. Day and time were good with our visit to Agbosch Office, because I could have good reason to suspect that it was the good Agbosch that lay behind the tip to terrorist police. This meant that I did not want to discuss the issue further without a lawyer. And because I did not make contact with any outsiders, I decided that I wouldn't say nothing.\n\nOne more night in the cell. Now it was rested and was boring, entirely without news and entertainment. To be a suspected terrorist was treated me well quite well, but I was completely cut off from the outside world.\n\nThe next morning, I assumed it was morning although I had no access to daylight illumination in the cell. A uniformed guard picked me up and briefly announced that I was free on bail. But I had to write on a piece of paper that I was not allowed to leave the city and I each morning before noon must register at the Police Office. If I didn't, I would call and are hunted by the entire world's police. I would remember that I then would be branded a terrorist, which is to say that I was given priority loot virtually throughout the world.\n\n\"Think about it! Carefully! \"called me one of the interrogated persons is now connected.\n\nAnyway, I scored out watch, wallet, cell phone and belt and step out through the unimpressive gateway to the modest house where terrorist police housed. There it met the one who arranged bail to get me on the loose. And it wasn't Phil MacHale as I had expected. It was, instead, my newfound business partner He Jin from Bofou Industrial Investment Fund!\n\nI could not hide my surprise but he assured that if it worked for him so it was well taken care of, even if suspected terrorist in South Asia. So do it in China with their friends. Somehow I suspected that it was a whole different thing if you were having troubles with him or the Bank or China in General.\n\nHe claimed that it was time to make the right of subsistence allowance, so to speak. During the evening, it was a meeting of investors in the Singapore Land Tower, a 190 m high tower in the middle of the business district at Raffles Place. That said, everything is near when you are in Singapore.\n\nFirst, I would return to my hotel, look for Dolly, turn on my tiny computer, and make some calls to my new and old business friends. At the reception, I ask whether the Dolly is inside. She is not, she checked out the day before yesterday morning, shortly after I was taken care of by the police. Where she had traveled, they knew not. And I had not found out anything about her. For example, I had no telephone number and no address to her work or home. It would be hard to get hold of her, if I would like to try.\n\nNo nocturnal party with her apparently. I took my key went in to my hotel room. Time to bring up the computer to check what happened in the world in general and in my world in particular.\n\nThe computer was not in the room. After some thought, I remembered the night with Dolly. We left the bar and went straight to her room, the computer I had with me and therefore it probably left on Dolly's hotel room. I ask at the front desk if anyone has left anything to me, such as a computer. As I suspected, no computer in the receptiona.\n\nI sense something fishy, Dolly has snatched one of my best friends, my Tiny, my trusty little computer. It also makes me think of how I was retrieved by terror police. I was thus not retrieved from my hotel room, but from Dolly's room. I begin to suspect some guile, everything was arranged for me to go into jail and get rid of my computer. I had a nice night, but had to pay a high price. Dolly worked for Agbosch? Right now I suspected that Agbosch was behind all the misery.\n\nIf it was so that Agbosch was behind all the misery, how would I be able to take me out of this, and how would I be able to fight back. I must reluctantly admit that the financial game lay a bit above my level. I was good at selling computers to everyone in all parts of the world, but this was something different.\n\nSave what can be saved. On my computer, there were no major secrets, but it was no more difficult to achieve than to get past my password. I should have hedged your computer better, such as using encryption. My email was not found on my computer but on Google's Gmail. At the hotel's Internet Cafe do I sign in to my Gmail and change the password. There were a number of unread mail, it does not appear that Dolly and her cronies been there yet.\n\nI will contact Bernard, my hacker can hack almost anything. I tell him how it is and ask him to track my little Tiny. He returns with the news that it had been signed in to the network and that it was in Sharjah, the Emirate on the Arabian Gulf, or as we like to call it, the Persian Gulf. Dolly had apparently returned to her Office in the U.A.E. Not much to do about this, because I had a travel ban, it was just to bite the bullet. First, I bought myself a new Tiny in the data store around the corner. I wondered if I should call my new Tiny for Tiny Two, or if I would rename it new to Teeny. Then I uploaded in a not-too-old backup which I had on a USB stick. Not sensible how much data it makes room on the memory sticks now-a-days.\n\nNow it was time to meet with investors in the Singapore Land Tower, now as some kind of representative of Chinese Bofou. Probably because I was used to being a consultant, but this mission had arrived very quickly and I felt increasingly in doubt. Partly because I was not sufficiently familiar with the subject, but also because I was unsure of my clients and what they stood for. China was, after all, a Communist dictatorship, even if they have fallen for capitalism as an economic doctrine.\n\nSingapore Land Tower was an impressive building within walking distance. Event high up in the building was masterfully organized. Indoors, it was soft lighting so that you could enjoy the view over the city. I was looking specifically for Agbosch, but he was not there. Nor Anolodimitrakis. On the other hand, I met up with Bibi Hammermann, as usual, more free dressed than other women in society. Actually I was looking for Dolly, you never know what you might find at a party.\n\nBibi was effusive as usual, friendly, and made me feel relaxed. I wondered in my own mind how I could suspect this uncomplicated person for a lot of nasty things. But before I had time to making an appointment with her a little more private, she had disappeared in the crowd and apparently discussed life in the financial world with a couple of sheikhs dressed as if they came straight from the desert.\n\nI hit my best mingling charm and tried to spread my message of electronics firms and currency in Scandinavia. My message went contrary to the other negative rumors that flourished in the room. Because I was unknown in the party, they may not care so much, but my lapel pin on from Bofou bank gave a certain authority and many questions from other bankers. I had hoped that mister He Jin from the Bank would be there, but apparently he had full confidence in me. Neither did Phil MacHale from the Scottish Bank was there. Luckily, there was plenty of Tiger beer as I could lubricate the throat with. It was a lot of talk.\n\nThe next day began with my compulsory registration at the police station, mett with Phil MacHale and discuss my situation with the lawyer Phil got up for me. I also spent some time with my new tiny computer, Teeny, to see if I managed to affect stock prices and exchange rates with my socializing the night before. It seemed, instead, go stick bat out of hell with both stocks and currencies in Sweden. Hammermann and Agbosch were apparently more successful with there mingling.\n\nI reported to my real principal, Naimee was left in London. She still looked for the Agbosch to try to set him against the wall. It was partly her money that Agbosch plays with the financial market.\n\nContact with the enemy\n\nHe Jin had booked me on a new meeting with investors that evening. The meeting was completely disinteresting but when I walked home to my hotel stopped a silver Rolls Royce at the curb, the back door was opened and a raspy voice with a South African accent invited me to take place there.\n\n\"Good evening mister Jones\", greeted me from the leather back seat. It was Gunner Agbosch, my enemy number one, who kindly invited me to a peaceful conversation. If there would be peaceful or not, it was once the future will tell.\n\nAfter a few introductory phrases like the weather in general and the heat in Singapore in particular came to have to shot.\n\n\"Sad that your finances are about to capsize,\" he begins.\n\nI get mad and ask what he did with my money making.\n\n\"What applies between countries might actually happen between people too. I have put you in the blockade to get you better thoughts. Blockades and trade barriers are not very effective between States, it's very effective between individuals. You are destitute! You are also charged with terrorism in Singapore, a very serious accusation. You can't even go home to Scotland to save what can be saved. \"\n\nI was cold, speechless, amazed and was becoming angry; it is not often that I lose my temper, but now I have to strain to keep my outer calm. Here I must go from defense to offense. But what I was able to attack with that could shake confidence in Agbosch.\n\n\"We are in contact with Executive Outcomes and they work for us in Sierra Leone. We are absolutely clear about what companies you check there and they will not be able to produce much in the coming months\", I lied. I hoped in my own mind that sir Randolph had found something in that direction where he now was in Sierra Leone. Executive Outcomes was the South African mercenaries, among other things, worked in Sierra Leone.\n\nAgbosch in fact became silent for a while. His lanky figure that constantly gestured stopped now. But just for a moment, then he continued as if nothing happened to embroider what would happen with my money and my business and my customers.\n\n\"But I have a suggestion,\" he continued. \"You're just a consultant here. Therefore I can offer twice the consulting fees if you change clients. \"\n\nHe tried to buy me, a Scotsman who to the last drop of blood would be faithful to his mission. But of course, I was a Scot and felt a certain craving when you mentioned money. You kidding about miserly Scots, but perhaps it was some truth in this.\n\nI needed time, therefore I replied after some hesitation that I would have to think about it. In the meantime, we had gone into a parking garage. I had been busy discussing with Agbosch and therefore not paid attention to where we were going. Along the way, he had left a couple short instructions on soma African dialect to the driver. The driver was undoubtedly of African origin, probably Zulu, one of the most bellicose tribes of South Africa.\n\n\"We can continue the reasoning in the Office,\" says Agbosch. We took the elevator up to the 14th floor and he opens one door, let me in and says he will back soon.\n\n\"Make yourself at home,\" he said and shut the door from the outside. I am on the inside in a small office room. It looks like a small conference room with a round table and a few chairs. In one corner was a pair of comfortable armchairs, moreover, there was a coffee maker and a few biscuits that could be served at a meeting.\n\nI took it easy and felt right at home for a while. But as the time led, I began to wonder what made that Agbosch did not show up. When I was at the door was locked and impossible to open without a key, even from the inside. To get out through a window on the fourteenth floor seemed to not be a good idea.\n\nI was armed with a cell phone, it would not be so hard to find someone who could drop out of me. The cell phone had no contact. The nocturnal view far away toward the Malacca Strait was breathtaking big stately. High up in a house in the middle of town, there must surely be a most excellent reception. Could it be that the Conference room was blocked from abroad in order to keep secret meetings?\n\nAnyway, I was just now cut off from the outside world. A totally unique experience in today's communication society. Not being able to call, text, or access the Internet, it was frustrating. It felt like I was back in the 90 's, what today's youth see as antiquity.\n\nI presumed that the good Agbosch would show up sooner or later so I brewed myself a cup of coffee and beat me down in one of the comfortable armchairs. And went to sleep.\n\nI woke up a few hours later, the Sun was shining from a clear blue sky but slightly hazy. The clock had been ten in the morning and nobody had brought me. Neither Agbosch nor any other.\n\nNow I understand that the Agbosch had locked me in and also meant it. I was a prisoner on the 14th floor of a high-rise building with no chance to reach the outside world. I didn't even know where I was exactly, I had only the view from the Windows to go on when I would decide where I was. Some buildings some distance away, but from there, figure out the street address was not so easy. Perhaps it could go to open a window, but not surprisingly, they were not opening.\n\nAfter some hesitation, I tried to smash a window by throwing a Conference Chair against a window. It bounced back with a muffled \"clunk\". Hell also, armored glass. It's called safety glass now, I remind myself. One of my customers in the glass industry could deliver bullet-proof glass which survived bombardment of weapon systems, such as AK4 and AK5. It wouldn't be so easy to force these Windows if they were the quality.\n\nWithin a couple of hours, I must also register with the police, otherwise it would go out a search in the entire world. I started to get nervous and started looking for tools or something that could help me to get out. I was also very much concerned about what Agbosch could possibly do when I was locked up and couldn't get any information about anything.\n\nWith the help of the knife and fork, I might be able to unscrew the hinges or something from the window or door. Door seemed completely impossible to crack but the window seemed screwed from the inside, it was worth a try.\n\nAn hour later, it began to produce results. There were a number of knives and spoons was became crooked, and dropped, but eventually I was able to knock over the window inwards and was hit by the 35-degree humid Equatorial air. Singapore is situated at 1 degree 22 minutes north latitude, it is virtually on the equator. I found that the air conditioning had worked satisfactorily.\n\nWith the window open, surely the cell phone functioned. The battery was running out and I had no contact anyway. The blocking disturbance worked despite the open window. I had to think of back to ancient times to find some way to get attention and help. Then they used carrier pigeons, maybe I could use the swallows. As a kid back home in Scotland, I learned how to fold well flying paper swallows. There were plenty of paper, this was a conference room. I folded a swallow, wrote a message for help with thick red pen and sent out paper swallow in the hot air.\n\nShouting and screaming from the fourteenth floor was not to think about with the noisy traffic down on the street. I sent out several swallows and waited for somebody to pay attention to my dilemma and look up at the window and alert police. I tied together both curtains and hung them out through the window to draw attention to myself.\n\nIn Singapore, you get fined 50 pounds if they litter. I saw some Orthodox citizens who picked up my paper swallows and put them in the nearest trash without reading my message. They may not be able to read English, either.\n\nA sudden rustling in the lock, a strong uniformed man rushes in and yelling\n\n\"What are you up to, the air conditioner will be knocked out with open window!\"\n\nIt was the House's caretaker, who apparently had seen that it was something was wrong with the air conditioner in the room. It was, after all, a modern technology that saved me this time.\n\nWith the help of my powers of persuasion and my business card, and the address of my hotel, and not least a 50-singapore dollar bill I was able to leave the House and locate the nearest police station. The clock was already over twelve, I was already a wanted terrorist. From the police station, I called my interrogators on Security Watch Group (SWG), and reported my presence. But too late. I was now wanted all over the globe. My safest whereabouts right now was probably in all cases in Singapore. And here I was already stranded, so so far was no harm done.\n\nI am contacting Naimee, she is still looking for Agbosch in London. I can report that last knew the whereabouts were Singapore, whereupon I told her what I had been exposed.\n\n\"I will!\" she shouted and snapped out of the conversation. Formerly called the man threw the phone down, now there are small buttons that apply and they are not quite so expressive.\n\nI tried to contact sir Randolph in Sierra Leone, but there was probably poor with mobile reception in the jungle.\n\nI called my company in Scotland, they ordered me to come home immediately and cough up a bunch of pounds so that they could get started operations again. This made me walk up to Phil MacHale, the head of RBS Singapore. The Bank Chief could perhaps help me in this perplexity.\n\nHe was full of understanding but was amazed at how I could have been entirely through no fault in this situation. He also seemed somewhat aloof, he maybe deep down suspected that I was a swindler and a terrorist.\n\nMy phone is ringing\n\n\"Hey, prick, Naimee here!\"\n\nNaimees credit cards were still blocked, probably by Agbosch. She couldn't buy any plane ticket and was thus left in London.\n\n\"Take care of you, see you when we'll meet\", was my inspiring answers. \"You happen to not have a diamond or two that you can sell?\"\n\nWell, Mr MacHale informed me that my financial situation was remarkable, even though he had tried to lift all roadblocks they had just as quickly struck again.\n\n\"A hacker is to manipulate the system,\" thought MacHale based on information from its headquarters.\n\nIt became more and more complicated. Here I sit trapped in Singapore and are waiting for better times while my company and my private economy is shattered.\n\nI will contact Bernard, my hacker, and discuss a new idea to him. The mingle method have not been particularly successful when it comes to spread my message. Time to try the e-mail method. Can possibly Bernard get into my message in one or more of the mailing that various banks provide to their customers. Where are the exchange advice, analysis and more about the currencies, and businesses and commodities, and so on.\n\nSure, he can fix. At least for a short time until someone gets their eyes to their newsletter has been hacked. But then, I have sent my message and it is not very likely that the original the letter writer would admit their lack of security. Why would my message still be credible for a while.\n\nAfter some consultation with He Jin and Phil MacHale writing me a text that Bernard promises to stop into the newsletters from some reputable banks.\n\nIt's about time, the Swedish krona is becoming increasingly hollowed out and Anderson, one of Sweden's largest companies will be acquired soon, according to reliable newsletter. Not quite as reliable, perhaps, I had myself managed to manipulate some.\n\nHelsinki\n\nIt comes an email from Naimee, she has located Anneli to Helsinki. Not so strange, she was probably in spite of everything from Finland. Naimee think it is time that we confront Anneli to get anywhere.\n\nNaimee has also found Agbosch in London, where she would continue to monitor him. She thinks that I should fly to Helsinki. Easy as pie, I have no money and no passports, and is forbidden to leave Singapore.\n\nMy Chinese friend is also interested in rescuing Anderson. It probably means that the Chinese counterpart, Huejda, is not the one that most threatens Anderson.\n\n\"I'll fix that, flight ticket and credit card!\" said He Jin. \"But it is you who are taking the risk, it may be many years in Guantanamo!\"\n\nI had nothing to lose, I thought, but to end up in an American prison for terrorists was not a very nice thought. But on the other hand, Obama held on to close the prison, so the risk of this was probably not so great. I was unable, however, to be extradited to South Africa or Singapore. Well, the day of mourning.\n\nHowever, He Jin got a pass for me on Bacon Smith from Hong Kong S.A.R.. Since the Hong Kong S.A.R. now was a part of China, but still with many Britons who worked there so it was a good choice. It would not work to get into the United States, where it was fingerprint control when entering the country. And there was my actual fingerprints already registered.\n\nBut within the Schengen area, an area within the Europe of free movement between countries, it would probably not be a problem. Bacon Smith was also a real person, but he had disappeared from the scene in Hong Kong S.A.R. for a time. Probably kidnapped by He Jin buddies over there.\n\nJust that I found out later, right now, it was a good pass with a good picture. I was advised to cut the hair and put me into a small goatee to confuse those who possibly could recognize me. And also to confuse the police officers around the world who received my terrorist picture.\n\nAs I said, I needed to Helsinki to bring order to my life and my finances, it is anyway what I thought at the time. Can Anneli be my guardian angel?\n\nFinnair flies at 18.25 via Hong Kong S.A.R. of all places, to Helsinki. After 16 hours and 40 minutes, I arrive to Vantaa, the international airport. It is no problem to get into Finland, the spell works. I can only remember that I am now Bacon Smith, with assignments from Bofou Industrial Investment Fund, Tianjin, China. I have booked me on hotel Kalastajatorppa, a five-star hotel. I had written up the name, otherwise I would not have been able to pronounce it so that the taxi driver could take what I wanted. Oh yes, he affirmed that he always drove to Kalastajatorpantie if his passengers tried to pronounce something incomprehensible. It is located at Kalastajatorppa road with views of the Gulf of Finland. Still, almost in the middle of town. And a King Gestroom Plus that the hotel room wasn't completely wrong.\n\nThe King who would live there was more uncertain, in Finland, there was no King. In the past, it was the King of Sweden who was also King of Finland, but it was a few hundred years ago.\n\nAlready on the flight, I had tried to search for Anneli Koskenkorva on FMFP Finance professionals in Finland. It was not so easy. When I asked at reception how I would find miss Koskenkorva I got a wry grin in response and they asked if it was not as good with Absolut Vodka. That's right, koskenkorva was also the name of the local whiskey in Finland. Nevertheless, there were many called Koskenkorva when I was looking in the telephone directory. A country filled with spirits, it seemed like.\n\nI worked with my little lap top computer, to find more clues on the Internet. To my surprise, I find The Royal Bank of Scotland N.V., The Netherlands (Finnish) branch. Imagine, we Scots have a bank in Finland!\n\nThe natural thing would be understood to make a call to my friend at RBS in Singapore to get introduced to the Finnish Office. The problem now was that I was Bacon Smith from Hong Kong S.A.R., not Hamilton Jones from Scotland.\n\nI strode in at Helsinki branch and asked to speak with the Office Manager. I said looked for Koskenkorva's Office to discuss Chinese investment in Finland.\n\nHe asked me to wait a few moments until the Office Manager would be on leave, he had a visiter right now. I got beat me down in a comfortable leather chair outside the Manager's Office. Imagine my surprise when I get to see Paul \"Monkey\" Anolodimitrakis step out from the Office. He did not recognize me, we had barely met. And I had changed both name and appearance.\n\n\"Oh dear,\" I thought, \"really a coincidence.\" What he could he do in Finland?\n\nNow I felt suddenly as donkey between two hips. I would hit the bank manager or would I possibly try to shade the Greek and try to find out what he had in Finland? The choice was not very difficult. I passed quickly the information desk and announced that I will come back later and instead took back on Anolodimitrakis.\n\nHe didn't seem to have a mind that would be persecuted, and why would have it? We wandered Mannerheims street up to a small side street, where he abruptly took off to the right and into a large office building. I gently went after him and saw that the elevator stopped on the eleventh floor. A look at the name signs at the entrance showed that one of the companies was called FMFP Ltd. If I don't missminde me, it was the name of Anneli's company.\n\nI also took the elevator to the 11th floor to see me around. There was indeed an Office with the sign FMFP. I had no desire to give me notice of whether Anneli was there or not. Perhaps we should wait until the evening and take into the Office one way or the other. On the other hand, had I not Sir Randolph to help, he was able to force the lock.\n\nMobile phone rang and I hurried into the stairwell so as not to arouse any curious and answered with a simple Hello. I did not know exactly if someone called me that Jones or Smith. I actually had not changed the mobile phone when I switched identity.\n\n\"Hello old boy from northern provinces!\" someone shouted. After a second of hesitation token fell down and I was able to respond as the fastest:\n\n\"Hello old boy in Diaspora! Are you not eaten by Leone's lion yet? \"\n\n\"No, I've left the Lions and am on the road to civilization.\"\n\n\"What good, I was just thinking I needed an expert to force a lock in to an Office. It's one of your famous specialties of course. \"\n\n\"Obviously is, I'm going to crash. I'm heading to Helsinki, where are you? \", says Randolph something surprising.\n\n\"In Helsinki, of course, that's where the door is that we should force\", is my comment. \"See you at the hotel Kalastajatorppa.\"\n\n\"Sure, we'll see you tonight!\"\n\nIt will be nice to meet some of my colleagues. The phone rings again, this time it is a very feminine voice exclaims:\n\n\"Would you not call me when you came to Helsinki?\"\n\n\"Should I?\"\n\n\"We are heading to Helsinki, Agbosch and I.\" informs Naimee.\n\n\"Together?\"\n\n\"No, I'm flying economy class, he in Business class, of course. See you tonight!\"\n\n\"See you at the hotel Kalastajatorppa.\" Neither Randolph nor Naimee had some comments about the hotel with the weird name. Perhaps they had been here before. But something strange was it.\n\nBernard, the hacker, call:\n\n\"You should take the boat to Stockholm tomorrow!\"\n\n\"Well?\"\n\n\"FMTP Investments have booked a smaller conference room on board. Agbosch, Anolodimitrakis and Hammermann have booked tickets on Viking line of departure Friday morning. I have booked a conference room next door, as well as cabins for you, Raffe and Naimee. OK? \"\n\n\"Sure, great,\" is my questionable comment. It is about to happen, something is going on, the question is what?\n\nThe Conference room wall to wall with the antagonists allowed me to locate the Technology magazine's Finnish counterpart and purchase some listening devices. A pair of microphones to attach on the wall should do the trick.\n\nIn the evening it is time for consultation with my homies. Randolph with light summer clothes and wearing khaki, Naimee with raincoat and umbrella. Randolph comes directly from the jungles of Africa and has not paid attention to it's winter with snow and ice here in the North.\n\nNaimee, of course, coming from the rainy London, which rarely go outdoors without an umbrella.\n\nNaimee had been in London and attended Agbosch's doings and routine. All she could tell me was that he was deeply involved in many meetings, much mingling among other finance sharks but that it has been difficult to get a handle on what business he really done.\n\nNaimee had spoken with a lot of people who in one way or another, been in contact with Agbosch and that would confirm that he right now was interested in two things, diamonds and a Nordic telecom company.\n\n\"My interpretation is that he uses my diamonds to take over a Swedish corporation. He is very much involved in lowering the Swedish Crown and discredit Anderson for which mere speculation buy shares in Anderson and also to buy Swedish Crowns now for sale price and then let the market run its course in order to later is able to sell expensive crowns and expensive shares\", analyzes, Naimee.\n\n\"You took some courses in business administration and Economics during your time in Oxford,\" says Randolph.\n\nRandolph continues to tell us what he did do in Sierra Leone. We had assumed that Agbosch had a lot of shady deals in West Africa. Randolph had visited the diamond fields and talked to some foremen and Office people to look dodgy tracks on Agbosch. Agbosch were known by some people, he had gone around the country to find good resources. His exploration company was still active with the Government.\n\nThere are still insurgents who are also active to sabotage the operation and to try to steal the diamonds. Corruption was high, all trying to bribe everyone. The population is not homogeneous; there are around 20 different tribes with different languages. Some are Christians, a large portion are Muslim, yet more is neither one nor the other, they might have retained their ancient gods.\n\nThe country's educated elite was long dominated by the minority krio (Creole), who claims to be descended from freed British slaves from Jamaica. They are Christians and have the British culture as a model. Still, the country is relatively stable compared to the past.\n\nAgbosch company works as said there, his security company, consisting of the tough South Africans, would be able to snatch up some, but now seems to basically work within laws and regulations.\n\n\"But the money he seems to serve in Sierra Leone could not finance his questionable business on the world market\", says sir Randolph.\n\n\"That's right,\" interjects Naimee, referring to his earlier statement that it is \"her\" diamonds that finance this. The question is if Agbosch intend to pay back when he carried out his coup against Sweden and Anderson or if he takes the money to the next project.\n\nI told them about my adventures in Singapore and also asked that they would call me Bacon Smith in the future and do not contact Interpol. Yes, they were fully aware of this.\n\nMy idea of taking us into FMTPs's Office was stopped by Naimee. Randolph was as usual keen on all new adventures. Naimee reminded us of our escapades with similar assignments in Sharjah and Cape Town where it has not been without its problems.\n\nViking Line\n\nIt was early morning in Helsinki and very cold. Not the raw wet chill that I could recognize from home Scotland, has many minus degrees and a nascent wind. It was instead the sharp cold that bit into my cheeks as soon as I left the foyer of the hotel. It was a difference of 60-70 degrees like that compared to a few days earlier at the equator.\n\nThe ice was thick in the port where our boat to Stockholm at the quay. Boat and yacht, it was more a floating hotel. We wondered if it would be able to get around in the ice over the sea. I got a picture in my head of polar Explorer who had been icebound in some Arctic Ocean over an entire winter. I shuddered at the mere thought and pulled down my newly bought fur hat of Russian model over the ears.\n\nI was a little worried about passport control, I wanted to avoid to face any police, I was, after all, a wanted terrorist worldwide.\n\nWe got on board without problems and established us in each stateroom and took us unseen into our Conference room, wall to wall with Koskenkorva's gang.\n\nThe Conference rooms were on deck nine, with a fine view high above the water. We tested our connection to the Internet, so far was the satellite connection is fully acceptable.\n\nI proudly showed my newly purchased listening devices. Randolph snorted and called it toys. He had indeed worked with much cooler stuff. If he had them with him? No, unfortunately not. OK.\n\nRandolph tweaked Coca Cola and sandwiches for us in the expectation that the Conference would begin in the room next door. We had to wait. We questioned ourselves with the reception on the meeting in the Conference Room B21 was set. The Conference room was booked for both front and back, more did not know the reception at the Conference.\n\nA few hours later, I took a break to refresh me at the bar further down in the ship. When I sat at the bar with my favorite drink, a big strong pineapple juice, slipped a modest woman up on the bar stool next to and whispered\n\n\"Hi Hamilton little\". Rat-colored hair, insignificant but proper businesslike dressed.\n\nI jumped high, my nerves were well not really on top, but took me quickly together and countered with\n\n\"Hey Anneli, however, schhh, not so high, you are so kind.\" I was of course not Hamilton right now, it would be unnecessary to others heard that name. Who knows, it could be terrorist policemen even on such a boat.\n\n\"Schhh, not so high, you are kind. If you are really nice, I'll show you something,\" she says and took my hand and leads me to the nearest elevator.\n\n\"We're going up to my cabin and talk a little bit,\" she continues. \"in addition, called I'm not Anneli, my name is Fanny Mahmon. As you know called my company FMTP, i.e. Fanny Mahmon Finance professionals. \"\n\nThat's right; I had uncovered far earlier thanks to but favorite hacker Bernard. But that meant maybe she just thought I was in a bit of half shady business.\n\n\"Since you took me up in the room, do you intend to use the same persuasive technique that your colleague Dolly?\"\n\nIt was Dolly who gave me some beautiful moments in his hotel room and disappeared with my little favorite tiny computer.\n\n\"On the contrary. I happened to find your computer somewhere, so this is it! \"\n\nShe took out my laptop from a desk drawer and handed it with a clever smile, adding that such entertainment as I thought we would be able to devote ourselves after completed negotiations. Despite her bland appearance, she was both attractive and sensual, which meant that it woke up some lust between my groins. It was a promise, but it could I think of now. Now it was about to complete the negotiations.\n\n\"What negotiations are you thinking then?\"\n\n\"I have a plan\", she states.\n\nIt was getting interesting, in fact. But was she friend or foe. I must think about my mission. I was just a consultant, as I like to say. My main mission was to return a lot of diamonds to its rightful owner. Or at least get back the value of the diamonds, they now apparently was used to try to manipulate currencies and listed companies.\n\n\"Are you thinking about if I'm friend or foe?\" she wonders, with a small smile.\n\nShe was a complicated personality, even a mind reader, it seemed to be.\n\n\"I have a problem,\" she states. \"One of my clients is the Finnish telecom giant Kiano. Kiano which begins to lose ground in the market and threatened by hostile takeovers from China. You like working for the Chinese, maybe you have more information? \"\n\nTo tell the truth, I was not very familiar with Chinese interests in the North. Although I had an impressive business card where it appeared that I represented an esteemed Chinese bank. Perhaps it was the Chinese who was at purchases round in the North. Or was it thought Kiano which go together with Anderson to meet Huejda, the Chinese telecom company?\n\nI was obviously deeply immersed in my own confused thoughts, if I woke up to the staring I deeply into the eyes of Anneli.\n\n\"Uh? Plan? Issue? \", I managed to get out of me. Anneli's laughter was short and pithy, but exhilarating. And I woke up with a jolt.\n\n\"I had imagined that you would be on the Board in my new company.\" she says.\n\n\"It is not possible. I am not myself right now. That is to say that I do not currently are Hamilton Jones from Scotland but Bacon Smith from Hong Kong S.A.R.. \"\n\n\"I know,\" she says, not surprisingly. She knows most of it. I wonder how. She has a private hacker, of course. \"It makes it even more safe. For you that is. \"\n\nShe had bought a Swedish limited company in which there was A-shares and B-shares. According to Swedish law may there be shares with different voting rights, now gets an A-share have a maximum of 10 votes on the B shares have one vote. In this company was 100 old votes against one. The share capital is moderate so I have 51 percent of the vote, but only a few percent of the capital.\n\nThis Swedish company has a subsidiary in B V I (British Virgin Islands), a finance company which manages various assets around the world. Because the BVI Company owned by the Swedish company it is also they who appoints the Board of Directors and has the highest number of votes at the general meeting.\n\nNow we have to convince our friends to let the BVI Company manage the slaughter of the Swedish krona and Swedish telecom industry. Such a company would be more effective than if they work. That's my plan.\n\n\"And why would they go on the various votes for Swedish equities?\"\n\n\"We have to cheat. It may not come to A-shares have 100 votes, they must believe that there is a maximum of 10 votes. This is where your phenomenal hacker comes in.\"\n\nOuch, it was that she figured out. And I thought that it was me she was looking for.\n\n\"That is to say, when they are looking for on the Internet and you will find the company in the Companies Registration Office, then we have hacked the information and removed one zero?\"\n\n\"Or could it be that when they get to see a false search page, the same as the real ones, with the exception of voting rights!\"\n\n\"If my hacker can fix it, what I have for the use of it?\"\n\n\"I will promise you a relaxing evening in the hotel room!\" says Anneli with a smile. But, before I licked me on the mouth at the thought of a nice night, she continues:\n\n\"Joking aside\", she says, and my hope for the night is dwindling, \"You can fulfill your mission to find the diamonds or the value of the diamonds and get the full payout from your employer.\"\n\nI fell to temptation and contacted Bernard.\n\n\"Niema problema\", is his positive response. \"When will it work?\"\n\n\"It will work for 24 hours from now, then you can let it go.\"\n\nAnd how could I trust her? She claimed that by returning my little tiny computer, she that way proved that we were friends.\n\nThe ship glided on through the night on to Mariehamn and Stockholm. The ice was thick in the Åland archipelago, and it actually seemed as if the vessel despite its size had problems with the ice. In and of itself it is not played as large a role. Even if we were to be icebound in the Arctic so we could thanks to satellites and the Internet be as a date with the outside world as if we had been sitting on Wall Street in New York.\n\n\"Now I gather my colleagues on the Conference Room\", announces Anneli.\n\n\"We heard through the wall, and I look forward to a fruitful cooperation\", is my comment and then I take me to our Conference room and announce the happy news.\n\n\"Do you trust the wily Hag\", exclaims Naimee.\n\n\"You're not real clever?\", Randolph. Sir Randolph.\n\n\"If you have any better idea then ...?\"\n\nNo one had a better idea, we started to actually believe in a minor miracle. If Anderson and Sweden went bankrupt was not our business, our mission was to bring back the Naimee's fortune.\n\nI plugged in my amateurish listening equipment and could pretty well listen to the discussion in the room next door. Where were they all of our \"enemies\" into place with just a wall that separated us. How Anneli managed to collect just our enemies was an enigma. Either she was smart and would fool the shirt of the monkey, Gunner and Hammer or else we would end up with long nose destitute, jailed and without a future. I wondered how the Dungeon at a Finnish boat looked like. It was well below the car deck and if the boat then sailed on the iceberg so would my future be drenched, if you say so.\n\nAnneli presented his plan about how they would cut the Swedish krona and the Andersons. They thought it seemed way too good and asked to withdraw to think about it. Naimee and Randolph took to be at the moment and would try to scout a little bit on our antagonists.\n\nPersonally I stopped in our Conference room to monitor positions. It knocked gently on the door and I went and opened, it was perhaps Anneli who wanted to hang out.\n\n\"Hallo mister Jones!\" There was a tall shapely blonde. It was Bibi Hammermann standing there and invited herself into our Conference room. \"I thought that I saw a familiar face. And what on earth are you doing here?\"\n\nFirstly, I must get rid of her so that she could not see my primitive listening devices. In addition, I was completely nonplussed when it came to explaining my presence at a Finnish boat. I couldn't even tell that I am currently not called Jones without Smith.\n\n\"Hey!\" I exclaimed with an astonished smile and took her to the coffee maker which was farthest from the wall to their conference rooms. Because the offense is the best defense I continued:\n\n\"I and some colleagues are here on a computer conference. But how did you end up in these icy waters?\"\n\n\"I and some colleagues have a financial hit. Sure, this boat is a great place for those of us who want to get away from the spotlight and just hang out and do business. \"\n\n\"Speaking of socializing, we shall go to a bar or dance. It'll be at least one Swedish so called dance band and a dance floor somewhere down on the boat.\" I did not want my employees show up, so it was probably best that I left the room, after all, even though it was unguarded.\n\n\"You would feel good then! I had thought to talk a little bit seriousness.\"\n\nIt was just keep good in nasty game.\n\n\"I am considering investing in a company in a tax haven. Why would I need a reliable person to join the Board because I can't. In addition, the initiator of this company promised to present the Chairman here and now if we accept the offer.\"\n\n\"Tax haven, the British Virgin Islands, for example. AHA! You need a British citizen for this? \", I ask so innocently that I could.\n\n\"Just like, one of the few British people that I know,\" she admits. She wanted to have a so called goalkeeper. Often there were homeless and other people without money who got act goalkeepers in suspicious businesses. Although I was not homeless (yet), I was actually without money, right now anyway. If I was a goalkeeper in a suspicious company, I would not only be without money but also have liabilities of unimagined amount.\n\nFun. The Chairman of the Board as Anneli would present, could it be Bacon Smith, that is to say, I? Board Member that Bibi wanted was Hamilton Jones, that is to say, I.\n\nHow could I get out of this complicated seat? About Anneli's plans went off without a hitch, it was perhaps a good thing to have two votes in the Board of Directors. Or maybe three ...\n\n\"Well, if you need more Brits in Board perhaps we can persuade my colleague to be with?\"\n\n\"Absolutely, can I trust him?\"\n\nI don't know how she could rely on me, but my response was overwhelmingly positive\n\nGeneral meeting of shareholders\n\nWe looked out further implicated, a British citizen, that is to say Sir Randolph, the man with the ginger colored slosh. Not unexpectedly, he was at the bar, sipping on something that looked like ginger ale but that was probably a slightly stronger flavor, made in the Scottish Highlands.\n\nGeneral meeting in about two hours in a conference room B21. Sure, we felt honored.\n\nMeanwhile, it seemed that the ship stopped, there was no harbour here where we would pick up more passengers. We should be in the archipelago between Finland and Åland Islands, but still long from Åland. When we look out, we see that the boat is completely still with ice around it. It's actually the coldest winter in many years, we have stalled?\n\nYes, we actually had been stuck in the ice between Finland and the Åland Islands. Through the speakers, it was announced that this was the case, but there was no reason for concern, icebreakers were on the way.\n\nEven though we were stuck out of the reach of the ordinary mobile phone network so worked the phone and broadband thanks to the ship's satellite connection. I consulted the Randolph who was a hammer to fix everything from locks and Hotwire cars to communications equipment. This latter experience came as a soldier in Africa need to keep contacts open using all possible and impossible wireless devices. My wild idea was to sabotage the ship's satellite connection so that we became more or less cut off from the outside world. Yes, it could he easily organize, claimed Raffe.\n\n\"You did well with your portable satellite telephone so that we can communicate with the outside world when all the other can't?\"\n\n\"Sure, of course we can connect us to the world with my equipment,\" was Raffe safe answers. \"I will take with me a cutter and screw driver and locate the wires from dish!\"\n\nHalf an hour later, Raffe with its own satellite equipment and we could see that our cell phones and broadband Internet access now was out of order.\n\nNow it was almost time for the extraordinary general meeting of Sierra Welfare Fund AB, which in turn owns Sierra Welfare Fund BVI Ltd in tax paradise the British Virgin Islands.\n\nI felt as though I balanced on a tightrope, who's fooling who? I felt not very smart right now, the question was who was the smartest. So far I had on my part, most famously by the Agbosch Act of revenge against me. Maybe he was the smartest, after all. Or was it Anolodimitrakis, so far, he had sailed around the edge of our business. I was also not wise on Hammermann, seem completely inoffensive, but behind the carefree facade is maybe something completely different.\n\nAnd how was it really with Anneli Koskenkorva, she ought to be on our side, but did she do it? Maybe she only worked for herself, or she was engaged by the Finnish telecom giant Kiano? I was hoping also to my clients, Naimee Kargbo did not play under the covers with anyone else. My knowledge of Sierra Leone was not completely OK, here was knowledge at least in Agbosch, Randolph and Naimee as I probably did not know.\n\nIt was apparently the Koskenkorva who had called for the meeting and sat on the Chair and pulled the agenda. It seemed somewhat improvised compared to the General meetings which I suffered at home in Scotland. But all present, including myself, accepted it and approved that the meeting be held valid, etc.\n\nAgbosch, Anolodimitrakis and Hammermann raised each 15.6 million dollars each class B shares to the company. In addition, Fanny Mark Finance professionals AB, that is to say, Anneli go in with 1.56 million dollars in the form of A-shares. The purpose of the company was that using the weak krona take power in the Swedish telecom company Anderson. Then could be sold on the market and also provide the krona currency gain.\n\n(3 x 15, 6 = 46.8; 100 x 1,56 = 156, guess who is the boss in the company!)\n\nAgbosch was sitting there in his baggy suit and wrote something with her illegible handwriting. He just seemed to listen with half an ear, but those who knew him knew that he was still tightened and not missed anything despite the fact that he wrote about maybe was about something completely different.\n\nAnolodimitrakis had a black book in front of them, where he with little lawyer style made short notes. He seemed embarrassed that he did not put the Chairman of the meeting. He wanted to decide.\n\nHammermann, free dressed in t-shirt, as usual, was seemingly in a lighthearted mood and talked more about the service on the boat than about financial things.\n\nAll three were questioned to Sir Randolph and myself were in attendance. Fanny Mahmon (Anneli) announced that she sold a share of sir Randolph and that she therefore could participate in the meeting. In addition, she had sold a share to Bacon Jones, who unfortunately could not attend, but there was a letter from him. The intention was that they would join the Board of the company in the British Virgin Islands because we were British citizens. Although it was a tax haven so there were some reservations about the directors. Hammermann announced that she sold 10 B-shares to Hamilton Jones, that is to say, with the same justification.\n\nAnolodimitrakis seemed somewhat surprised but kept good my.\n\nAgbosch glared a bit on me, we had met in some context before, but turned in a somewhat patronizing my, but made no comments.\n\nBut Anolodimitrakis wanted to adjourn the meeting to make a couple of calls. Agbosch sauntered also out in the foyer with the cell phone ready.\n\nHammermann discussed carefree fashion in London with sir Randolph and seemed to have the situation under control.\n\nI had my little laptop on the table, nowadays it is the many who have computers with them at meetings. I found that I could not connect to the Internet. Same with my cell phone, no cover. Raffe and I exchanged glances in concert, my eye would be interpreted: Good job, Raffe. His look told me: I know, I'm the best!\n\nWe went on in the agenda, wrote out the Protocol immediately and got everyone's signatures.\n\nFanny's Fund\n\nSweden ferry, or Finland ferry, as it is called in Sweden, was still stuck in the ice somewhere between Helsinki, Finland and the Åland Islands.\n\nWe, who had access to Raffe's satellite phone, started to do business. It was, in fact, Anneli who made the trades that now was to take advantage of the combined resources of our new company.\n\nTo begin with, it was time to strengthen the Swedish krona. Just think how fast it can go to poke a bit of market forces so that trend suddenly was positive. Even though we had great assets in our company would still not be enough unless the market and market computers followed in our footsteps. And think what helped that we were stuck in the ice and to telephones and the Internet did not work.\n\nExcept for those of us who had direct contact with satellites.\n\nI called my friend Phil MacHale in Singapore and Han Jin in \"my\" Chinese bank and informed that they could make the world's clips if they followed us and market developments.\n\nAfter a few hours were the Crown fairly old fine value, it was now time to sell our expensive Anderson shares that we bought cheap. We were in this situation, Anneli and I locked ourselves into my cabin together with Raffe's satellite link.\n\nRaffe had been ordered to celebrate the occasion with Naimee, for obvious reasons, she had not been able to participate in general meeting. She could now relax in the bar and be hopeful that we had found the fortune that she initiated in her \"Nigerian letter\".\n\nWe were also in contact with my hacker Bernard as his hold on development, held an avid interest market and stock market commentary. It was more or less chaos on the Stockholm Stock Exchange which surprised brokers did business as they had not a thought of as recently as that morning.\n\n\"How does it feel, Ham sweaty, having the financial world at their feet, and with a few clicks change the world?\" said Anneli cleverly.\n\nI had a problem with being a penniless wanted terrorist, which made me more nervous actually. In addition, I expected that Agbosch and company would make a countermove in any way.\n\nBut that was probably what Anneli predicted, Anneli has established a new fund that would be used for the benefit of the residents of Sierra Leone. The management of the Fund had been placed under the supervision of the World Bank.\n\nThe World Bank Group (WBG), is an independent supranational organization which cooperates in the framework of the United Nations Economic and Social Council. The World Bank Group's headquarters are located in Washington, D.C. and is owned by a cooperative of the Member States. It is profit oriented, but the profit goes to fighting poverty.\n\nWhatever Naimee would have opinions about this, it was only right that the funds that once stolen from the central bank in Sierra Leone would go back to the inhabitants of this country.\n\nI got the task to announce the happy news to Naimee currently should be sitting in a restaurant together with sir Randolph. Naimee consisted in rule by a big smile that looked soberly at the reality. For some strange reason, she became top barrels furious. I knew that she had a temper, but becoming a victim of her wrath made me felt I shrank under her blazing eyes.\n\nOther guests in the restaurant looked interested. Here were some businessmen and businesswomen at a larger table that was probably at another Conference. There were also a number of middle-aged ladies who probably was on board for dancing to the popular dance band. Right now, we were there who had the most entertainment value here.\n\n\"You were employed by me as MY consultant! You should have taken my interests! You get fired here and now. Retroactively! You will not get a single pound in fees! \"\n\nThat words and no visors. If I had been poor before so I was not richer by this.\n\nNow came the Hammermann strolling through the restaurant heaving bust and no sunshine in the eye. I had heard her swear before, but this was worse. She had apparently been in contact with the outside world and find out with what was about to happen.\n\n\"I will sue you for damages which cannot be imagined,\" she threatened. That's how to do it in the United States, suing people and try to get the big indemnities. Sure, but I had no money, so what.\n\nNaimee interfered in the conversation and pointed out that it was her money, so she thought suing Hammermann with several on even greater damages.\n\nWhen Anolodimitrakis approached, I went and tried to sneak. But, with cruel countenance had \"Monkey\" spied on me and followed me. I went out on the deck and looked around on an icy sea. Anolodimitrakis sneaks up behind me and the blood run cold in my veins. Only now I begin to take the classic expression of iced blood which I read in my youth Adventure books. Maybe he is a violent man and intended to push me overboard.\n\n\"Really a smart approach,\" he said. \"I'd need a whole new installation of an advanced financial information systems. I suppose you can give me a really good quote. \"\n\n\"I will do my best,\" I murmured, and suspected that those computers, I would probably not get many pounds.\n\n\"OK, here's my card, you can get in touch with me next week!\" he said and removed.\n\nThe most difficult issue remained. We, and I, had had the biggest controversy with Agbosch. It was just as well to take the bull by the horns and look him up. For all the happiness he was at the bar, I wished to speak with him among the people. I was a little unsure if he could become violent if we met more secluded.\n\nAs usual, he looked a little bit absent out and was also, as usual, dressed in a baggy suit of English cut.\n\n\"How do we fix this?\" he asks directly when I sit next to him.\n\n\"Yes, we have a lot to discuss, maybe. Do you have any good suggestions? \"\n\nI assumed, probably rightly, that it was Agbosch who was behind my rushed poverty as well as the call for terrorism.\n\n\"I want back the diamonds!\" mutters Agbosch.\n\n\"What the ...\"\n\n\"Those that you bought for my money and deposited in Antwerp.\"\n\n\"Then you take back the blacklist among banks and we will remove your terrorist report?\"\n\n\"OK\", we said and shook hands on this.\n\nI got up gratefully and left the restaurant. I also heard how the ship starts moving when I look I see an impressive ice breaker crush the ice in front of us and we can take us further towards Stockholm.\n\nIn my cabin were Anneli still, it seemed as if she completed all transactions that she wants to do right now.\n\n\"Do you remember what you promised me when we were done with this?\" is my modest asked question.\n\n\"Sure, I've been waiting soooooo ... That's why I booked the Royal Suite with whirlpool baths and Thai massage for us. \"\n\nIt was soooooo niiiiiice night ...\n________________________________________________\n\nOf course, this is a story that is made up from the beginning to the end. Any resemblance to real people is purely coincidental. However, the geographical and historical background quite authentic, feel free to go there, and then the tourist managers will be happy. I myself have been on most of the sites described, but it was a few years ago.\n\nThe Nigerian letter is actually a \"real\" fraud letter which ended up in my Inbox for a number of years ago. And who gave the idea for this story.\n\n© Stieve in Adams, 2012- stieve.i.adams@gmail.com\n\n", "meta": {"pile_set_name": "BookCorpus2"}}
{"text": " \nThe Revelation of the Messiah\n\nBy Don Herston\n\nCopyright 2016 Don Herston\n\nSmashwords Edition, License Notes\n\nThank you for downloading this ebook. You are welcome to share it with your friends. This book may be reproduced, copied and distributed for non-commercial purposes, provided the book remains in its complete original form. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author and may not be redistributed to others for commercial purposes.\n\nTable of Contents\n\nA Summary: The Revelation\n\nBiblical Passages Concerning the Casting of Satan from Heaven\n\nBiblical Passages Concerning the Truth not Being Revealed until the End\n\nBiblical Passages Concerning Why We Need Redemption Part 1\n\nBiblical Passages Concerning Why We Need Redemption Part 2\n\nBiblical Summary Concerning Redemption by Separation\n\nBiblical Passages Concerning Redemption by Separation Part 1\n\nBiblical Passages Concerning Redemption by Separation Part 2\n\nBiblical Passages Concerning Redemption by Separation Part 3\n\nBiblical Passages Concerning Justice before the Day of Judgment\n\nBiblical Passages Concerning Prayer\n\nBiblical Passages with Parables\n\nA Much Quoted Biblical Passage\n\nBiblical Passages Concerning the End of Creation\n\nA Summary: The Revelation\n\nIn the infinity that transcends time and space, there is God, nothing but God, and only one God. When God created time and space God created existence outside of Himself. At the beginning of time, some of God's essence separated from God and became a separate Being that came into time. Jesus came from the essence of the one eternal God and that is why Jesus is called \"Son\" of God. God transcends time but Jesus came into existence with the creation of time and Jesus travels through time. Jesus has a beginning and an ending and this is why Jesus is called \"Alpha and Omega\". At the end of the timeline, Jesus discards His flesh and returns to complete oneness with God just as Jesus came from oneness with God at the beginning of time. The Trinity exists in time, but in infinity there is one God.\n\nChrist is God but being a Spirit born into flesh, He is also fully human. Since Christ discards His flesh, it becomes completely fair for our flesh to be discarded so that our soul along with the spirit of love within us is judged as a separate person. This idea may seem simplistic but not only is it consistent with the Bible, it reconciles supposed contradictions in the Bible and it is also confirmed by having been unnoticed by millions of people in spite of its remarkable simplicity.\n\nNone of our sin comes from our spirit. Our spirit is not merely forgiven; the spirit of love within us is perfect. On the Day of Judgment our spirit is found worthy of eternal life and is given a new body. This is the \"Grace\" of Christ. This is how the Messiah redeems the children of God and it means that all good people (the children of God) are given eternal life in Heaven by Christ.\n\nThis doesn't mean there are no consequences for sin. We will have difficulties in this life and perhaps in a purgatory to come because of our sins. We will have happiness in this life and perhaps in the communion of saints after death because of our righteousness. Under God there is perfect justice but no amount of refinement in time will ever lead to our being perfect. Our redemption by Christ causes us to be perfect because the spirit of love within us is perfect and is given a new body. This not only means that we will deserve eternal life, this perfection which we can never obtain except through Christ is also necessary for us to enjoy eternal life. Heaven must involve a change to us, not merely taking us to a different place. The Messiah justifies this change to us.\n\nAccording to the Bible:\n\n• We only make it to Heaven through Christ\n\n• The responsibility for sin cannot be transferred from one person to another\n\n• We are judged by our works\n\n• God predetermined who would go to Heaven\n\nWe only make it to Heaven through Christ yet there is no literal transfer of responsibility for sin and all loving people will make it to Heaven even if they never heard of Christ because the separation of flesh from spirit is justified by Christ even for those children of God who have never heard of Christ. We are judged by our works but our spirit is perfect and deserves eternal life. God predetermined who would go to Heaven because the perfect spirit of love within us came from God. This reconciles passages in the Bible that have caused a lot of debate and conflict. With the Bible, God didn't give us a riddle so complex that no one could unravel it; God gave us some simple riddles and prevented people from seeing the simple solutions.\n\nWhy all the secrecy? We start by realizing that God is absolute and infinite Righteousness transcending time and space. God must have had a purpose for creation which means that creation has some \"effect\" on God. God would want to create children to love, but there would have to be additional reasons for God to create the world as it now exists. Since God transcends time, any \"effect\" or \"change\" that creation provides to God must have been (in some way beyond our understanding) always part of God; meaning that creation must be an inevitable product of God's unchanging essence by which God is completed.\n\nThis means it is essential and unavoidable that a Loving God would create time and sent His children...tiny versions of Himself...on a journey through a world of good and evil. Knowing the end from the beginning, a Loving God would do this because of all the incredible emotions we have experienced. Not anger...anger is something we should try to overcome, but if you take away the anger and just look at emotions like sorrow...sorrow is a wonderful emotion. It may not seem that way during our darkest hours of heartache, but we gain wisdom thanks to sorrow. Through emotions like sorrow we understand what love is. Death is nothing and the dead did not suffer as much as we may believe but God had to keep that realization concealed from us in order for us to experience all the wonderful emotions of this journey.\n\nGod has been with us and has shared all our joy and pain. It is inconceivable that the infinite God who transcends time and space doesn't know the anguish of a mother who has witnessed the death of her child but because of creation God has experienced this emotion many thousands of times. All the emotions of all human history are part of God. This seemingly endless inventory of deep and aching emotions could only be contained by an infinite God and they are an essential component of the wisdom of God; they are an absolutely inevitable product of God's essence because they provide an incredible understanding of love. Love cannot be calculated or reasoned. Love, in all its aspects must be experienced. God is completed by creation.\n\nThis means that God needs us in order to experience emotions but it does not mean that God is \"using\" or exploiting us. God created us and sent us into a world where we are defeated and destroyed because of our weakness. God created us with that weakness, but it was actually the perfect spirit of love within us that came from God. We are born as weak flesh manipulated by greater spirits, but we owe our existence to our weakness and the fallen nature of the world.\n\nEven in our fallen selfish state, a condition repulsive to God, God is still with us, shares our experiences, and helps us in ways we don't even realize. God continuously forgives us and makes a great sacrifice to redeem us. God gives us eternal joy and happiness but first God lets us go on an incredible journey through a world of remarkable emotions. There are some painful emotions but even with those difficulties, life is a far better experience if we focus on love and not anger.\n\nIt troubles many people that the Bible clearly states that God created evil but the world was created for emotions and for these emotions to exist, God had to create evil. Evil is the absence of love like darkness is the absences of light. This means a creature cannot be both good and evil yet God had to create circumstances whereby creatures exist that are capable of both good and evil. For this reason, God created a powerful but loveless Satan and God created weak but loving humans. God established a Law by which all will be judged. Satan must be careful to not violate the Law of God while he brings a spirit of selfishness into the world causing the humans to violate the Law. In this way, Satan uses the Law of God to destroy the humans. Satan intends to show that power overcomes love...that love is insignificant but this is exactly what God had in mind. By creating loving humans who are influenced by an egocentric spirit, God has humans who are selfish enough to die in their sins yet have the love that is necessary to feel sorrow when others die.\n\nGod redeems His children with the Messiah who discards His flesh and returns to oneness with God and there are a number of reasons why this relationship between God and the Messiah had to be kept secret.\n\n\"My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?\"\n\nWhen Jesus asked this question He wasn't merely quoting the Scriptures and He wasn't merely expressing His \"feelings\". This was the Lord and Savior hanging on a cross between Heaven and Earth...the pivotal event of time and space. Everything He said and did had great significance. With this question Jesus was making an incredibly profound statement concerning an event that had been foretold in the Scriptures. Jesus knew the answer to the question but He asked the question to emphasize that there was an answer. There was a reason for God to forsake Him.\n\nThe death of a sinless man was inconsistent with God's Law but more importantly there were powers and events transcending our universe which made it essential for God to look away. With the face of God turned away from the crucifixion, the devil unloaded his hatred on Christ. At the time of Christ, the devil had already been manipulating humans and using the Law of God to destroy humans for thousands of years. The devil had no respect for humans and he believed Jesus was just another human. When the devil had tempted Christ, Jesus would not confirm His divinity. Jesus demonstrated obedience to God like a subservient human. Clues in the Scriptures to suggest the possibility of a divine Messiah were few and unclear...not enough for leading Jewish scholars to even consider the possibility that Jesus could be the Lord. Even the apostles didn't really know who Jesus was until after the resurrection.\n\nTo this day, Satan is still in Heaven because he has never been shown to have violated the Law of God. Jesus is at the \"right hand\" of God, which is to say out of sight at a place which transcends even Heaven. Jesus has not exposed the devil and the divinity of Jesus has not been explained. For two thousand years Christians have been saying that Jesus is Lord but the devil and all the inhabitants of Heaven know there is only one God so the devil still believes he has no reason for concern. The devil felt safe in exposing his hatred of God to a dying human on a cross who he believed couldn't detect it anyway but Jesus wasn't responding to the pain of the crucifixion.\n\nJesus was so repulsed by the cross that He was sweating blood beforehand but mere physical pain would not cause such a reaction from someone as great as Christ and as far as the \"shame\" of sin being transferred to Christ, the Bible states that sin cannot be transferred. Christ was so repulsed by the cross because a God of perfect Righteousness is repulsed by evil more than we can understand. When Jesus was on the cross He would have all the hatred of hell directed at Him. Through creation, God put Himself in a position where He had to confront evil. He put Himself in a position where He had to make an incredible sacrifice and do something which was unbelievably dreadful in order to rescue His children from death. There is no challenge or hardship for God other than the revulsion to evil that is experienced by a God of absolute Love. The sacrifice that God made for us went far beyond our understanding.\n\nThe crucifixion was designed perfectly. Satan did not know that Jesus was God and that Jesus was able to witness the hatred that was directed at Him. Jesus looked like a human who was responding to the physical pain of the crucifixion, when actually the physical pain was nothing to Jesus. Jesus was responding to the out-of-this-world hatred that was directed at Him by Satan.\n\nJesus is at the right hand of God *until* His enemies are made His footstool because His going back to God is how His enemies are made His footstool. The return of Jesus to oneness with God means that God is a witness against Satan. Even though the return of Christ to oneness with God is a future event, the revelation of this future event reveals that Satan has been caught and this revelation will enrage Satan. Keeping this secret from the devil is why the true message and mission of Christ had to be kept secret until the time of the end. The revelation of this secret is why an enraged Satan is cast out of Heaven at the time of the end and this will occur as this revelation is distributed sufficiently to overcome the arrogance of Satan.\n\nIn his great arrogance, it may take time for the devil to accept that a puny human like Jesus is actually greater than him. It's like being told a bug you once stepped on is still alive and is going to testify against you but as the truth is revealed in the Earth, Satan will come to realize that Jesus really is the Lord which means God is a witness against him. This knowledge will cause conflict in Heaven and Satan will be cast from Heaven as foretold in the book of Revelation.\n\nThis is what Armageddon is about; it is not a battle between good and evil since God has always been in complete control. God transcends everything, and everything that exists outside of God is an illusion relative to God. No one in Heaven is going to question the power of God or dare to do battle with God. Armageddon is the last throes of an egocentric spirit that is big enough to fill the world and will soon realize it is condemned to destruction for violating the Law of God.\n\nIt is said that in the end a veil is lifted. The hills and mountains are said to be leveled, meaning the obstacles are removed allowing people to see. This means the truth is simple. In the end, God allows people to see what they should have been able to see and this is why the book of the end is called the Revelation.\n\nIt never made sense that a God of unimaginable Love would ask His children to wastefully kill helpless animals and we know that there is no forgiveness of sin in animal sacrifice. Yet there had to be a reason for the animal sacrifice. It points to the death of Christ, and the destruction of the flesh of the animal in a burnt offering was the most important part of the ceremony. This destruction of the flesh shows how we are redeemed by Christ. In the Passover the lamb's flesh is eaten, but eating is only a different manner of destruction. Eating is a type of destruction that provides life to the eater like the Eucharist where Christ gives up His flesh to provide life to His children. Like animal sacrifice, it seems odd that the Lord would ask us to eat His flesh but there is a message in the Eucharist. The Messiah gives up His flesh for us to have life. All the major stories and traditions of the Bible consistently point to Jesus as the Messiah and either destruction of flesh or some kind of separation as the means of redemption.\n\nThe Jews rejected Jesus mainly because they rejected the idea of a divine Messiah. Other reasons include the belief that the Messiah must restore Israel after Israel has been scattered among the nations. The scattering of Israel among the nations didn't even occur until after Christ.\n\nBut the phrase \"after Christ\" can be misleading because it implies that Christ is dead. Jesus didn't die and then go away. Jesus returned from the dead and then ascended as a living human. We are not waiting on the Lord to return from the dead, we are waiting on the living Messiah to return from a journey.\n\nJesus is alive.\n\nThe Messiah is said to be like Moses and Jesus is like Moses in many ways. One way Jesus is like Moses is that Moses went up the mountain to be with God and then he returned. Likewise Jesus went to be with God and He will return.\n\nModern Israel fulfills prophecy but where is the Messiah who was supposed to lead this restoration of Israel? If modern Israel is the fulfillment of prophecy then it must be true that the Messiah is the Lord since no one (other than the Lord) can be credited with the miraculous events that have brought about the return of Israel. This was the most important reason the Jews rejected Jesus...that the Messiah is not the Lord, but the restoration of Israel now confirms that the Messiah is the Lord.\n\nThe Messiah must be the Lord, He must be alive today and so He must have been born at some point in the past as a Jew considering that the Messiah must be a descendant of David. That doesn't allow very many possibilities. How many Jews have claimed to be the Lord? How many have risen from the dead to support that claim? We don't think of a person born two thousand years ago as still being alive, but since Jesus is divine, His remarkable longevity shouldn't be a problem. To this day, any miraculous act that occurs anywhere in the world is something that could have been done by Jesus since Jesus is still alive.\n\nJesus is a two thousand year old living breathing man.\n\nAll of Israel's reasons for rejecting Jesus have been eliminated. We now know that the Messiah is Lord. The Messiah has now restored Israel from among the nations. Jesus as Messiah and Lord is consistent with the truth that there is only one God, from whom Christ came and to whom Christ will return. We only make it to Heaven through Christ, but our sins are not literally transferred to Christ and being a Christian is not necessary. Jesus is completely consistent with the Torah just as He should be.\n\nJesus is the Messiah of Israel Who will return to Israel.\n\nThe belief that God supports Israel doesn't mean that God is against other people. There is a remarkable story being played out. The different nations and religions are like actors playing different roles, some are good guys and some are bad guys, and yet God can have children in every nation and religion. We are judged as individuals, yet the nations tell a story.\n\nA summary of the story:\n\nGod told Abraham that through his seed the world would be blessed.\n\nThe nation of Israel was born in bondage. (The spirit born into the flesh)\n\nMoses led Israel out of bondage. (The spirit is separated from the flesh)\n\nMoses and numerous prophets foretold a coming Messiah.\n\nJesus was rejected and killed, rose from the dead and ascended to Heaven. Jesus fulfilled many prophecies remarkably and a large part of the world came to see Jesus as the promised Jewish Messiah even though He has always been rejected by most Jews and until now no one was able to reconcile His words with the Scriptures.\n\nShortly after Christ, Israel was scattered among the nations as foretold.\n\nThen the false prophet Mohammed came to the city currently called Medina which at the time had a large Jewish community. The Jews had opportunities to kill Mohammed, but for whatever reason they didn't. Mohammed did falsely claim to a prophet of the God of Israel.\n\nIsrael is now restored from the nations as foretold and Israel is surrounded by enemies as foretold. Who are the enemies? The children of Ishmael...the followers of Mohammed who are determined to destroy the Jews because the Jews rejected their false prophet.\n\nThis brings us to the current conflict in the Middle East.\n\nGod not only gave the land of Israel to the Jews as stated in the Bible; God also orchestrated modern events by which the Jews have ownership of the land.\n\nAll nations were established by force as all land has been conquered militarily, but the Jews moved to a remote province in a crumbling empire...a barren wasteland. They purchased the wasteland and transformed it. A corrupt and violent humanity believes that this gives the Jews less claim to the land, but actually it gives them far greater claim to the land. The Jews then won their land in multiple wars of defense against an enemy determined to commit genocide. This gives them even greater claim to the land. The Jews have greater claim to their land than any other nation.\n\nThere is also the legally recognized concept of \"partitioning\", and how the formerly Ottoman land was divided between Arabs and Jews. The Jews were given a tiny sliver of land, rather modest considering what was taken from them as they were brutally driven from most of the Arab world.\n\nAnd then there is the deception that is used against Israel. Before modern times there was never a Palestinian nation, or a Palestinian people, or a Palestinian language, or a Palestinian culture, or a Palestinian nationalist movement of any kind. Nationalism had no influence over much of the Middle East until it was introduced by the Europeans in the modern era. The influence of nationalism is still very limited in much of the region. There are various ethnic groups in the region like the Arabs, Assyrians, and Bedouins but the \"Palestinians\" are made up of several different ethnic groups which were lumped together only recently based entirely on geography. The word \"Palestine\" comes from the Romans. The Arabs only use the word \"Palestine\" because their propaganda is intended to target western audiences.\n\nThe Muslims greatly outnumber the Jews and there are over 40 Muslim nations, but by giving the name \"Palestinians\" to all non-Jews in Israel, the Muslims turn themselves into the tiny helpless victims of the Jews.\n\nThe conflict in the Middle East is a conflict between truth and falsehood. It is a conflict between one religion which is small in number but believes in freedom, equality, knowledge, truth, compassion, and justice verses another religion which is very large in number but believes in inequality, subjugation, slavery, blind obedience, deception, cruelty, and vengeance. This is a conflict between life and death and some of the most devout Muslims will brag about their claim that they support death as much as the Jews support life.\n\nMost of the world is against Israel.\n\nIf you look at the whole story...starting with Abraham...it is a remarkable story. We don't know how it's going to turn out, but everything points to the idea that God is not finished with Israel. Israel was selected for the coming of Christ, but Israel was also selected for what is happening now which very likely has to do with the return of Christ.\n\nThe Jews continue to wait for a Messiah who will arrive like a knight in shining armor, but they will soon realize that the true story of the Messiah is more elaborate and more incredible than the simple outcome they are expecting.\n\nJesus will return to Jerusalem and they will say blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord.\n\nTable of Contents\n\nBiblical Passages Concerning the Casting of Satan from Heaven\n\nIt is commonly believed that the devil was cast out of Heaven long ago, but Isaiah puts a future tense on Satan's demise and a past tense on the end of Satan's troublemaking which is a future event.\n\n_Isaiah 14:12-15 How art thou fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morning! how art thou cut down to the ground, which_ _didst weaken_ _the nations! For thou hast said in thine heart, I will ascend into heaven, I will exalt my throne above the stars of God: I will sit also upon the mount of the congregation, in the sides of the north: I will ascend above the heights of the clouds; I will be like the most High. Yet thou_ _shalt be brought down_ _to hell, to the sides of the pit._\n\n(The word Lucifer means morning star, but this passage was believed to be referring to Satan before the King James translation was written. This is why the word Lucifer became associated with the devil.)\n\nSatan was perfect in all of his ways, which is to say that Satan did not openly rebel against God. There may have been hatred within Satan but the devil did not openly commit any sin until iniquity was found within him.\n\n_Ezekiel 28:15-16 Thou wast perfect in thy ways from the day that thou wast created, till_ _iniquity was found in thee_ _. By the multitude of thy merchandise they have filled the midst of thee with violence, and thou hast sinned: therefore I will cast thee as profane out of the mountain of God: and I will destroy thee, O covering cherub, from the midst of the stones of fire._\n\nChrist did not say that Satan has already been cast from Heaven; Christ stated that He saw Satan fall from Heaven. This does not preclude a future event since Christ was able to see the future.\n\nLuke 10:18 And he said unto them, I beheld Satan as lightning fall from heaven.\n\nWe know that Christ was talking about a future event since the casting out *shall be* (in the future) because of something which occurs *now* (at the time of Christ). So the cast out will occur in the future because of something which happened during the time of Christ.\n\n_John 12:31 Now is the judgment of this world:_ _now shall_ _the prince of this world_ _be cast_ _out._\n\nThis means that Satan kept \"iniquity\" hidden within himself, but at the time of Christ that evil was exposed so that Satan \"shall be\" cast out of Heaven. The evil of Satan was exposed or witnessed by Christ and yet Satan was not cast out at the time of Christ.\n\nRevelation is said to foretell the events of the end times and this is when Satan is cast out of Heaven.\n\nRevelation 12:9 And the great dragon was cast out, that old serpent, called the Devil, and Satan, which deceiveth the whole world: he was cast out into the earth, and his angels were cast out with him.\n\nNotice that at the time Satan is cast out of Heaven there is but a short time.\n\nRevelation 12:12 Therefore rejoice, ye heavens, and ye that dwell in them. Woe to the inhabiters of the earth and of the sea! for the devil is come down unto you, having great wrath, because he knoweth that he hath but a short time.\n\nSince Satan is evil he should have been cast out of Heaven long ago but Satan was not expelled from Heaven because the devil always managed to evade condemnation by keeping his evil hidden within himself.\n\nProverbs 26:24-26 He that hateth dissembleth with his lips, and layeth up deceit within him; When he speaketh fair, believe him not: for there are seven abominations in his heart. Whose hatred is covered by deceit, his wickedness shall be shewed before the whole congregation.\n\nPsalms 10:6-7 He hath said in his heart, I shall not be moved: for I shall never be in adversity. His mouth is full of cursing and deceit and fraud: under his tongue is mischief and vanity.\n\nEvil is repulsive to God because God is infinitely Righteous. God sees the hearts of His children, and He sees all evil acts that are committed, but God will not look into a heart or a spirit that is totally evil.\n\n1 Peter 3:12 For the eyes of the Lord are over the righteous, and his ears are open unto their prayers: but the face of the Lord is against them that do evil.\n\nHabakkuk 1:13 Thou art of purer eyes than to behold evil, and canst not look on iniquity: wherefore lookest thou upon them that deal treacherously, and holdest thy tongue when the wicked devoureth the man that is more righteous than he?\n\nThis is a revolutionary change from the way most people view the devil and the relationship between God and Satan but there is not a single verse or passage in the Bible in which Satan is presented as he is commonly perceived. There is no suggestion in the Bible that the devil battles God for possession of men's souls. The Biblical Satan seeks to condemn humanity; not possess it. As the devil tries to condemn humanity he must do so without being caught violating the Law of God. Satan may be big enough to fill the Earth but he is powerless next to God. Satan is subject to the Law of God as demonstrated by the fact that in the end he will be cast into the lake of fire.\n\nRevelation 20:10 And the devil that deceived them was cast into the lake of fire and brimstone, where the beast and the false prophet are, and shall be tormented day and night for ever and ever.\n\nPsalms 82:1 God standeth in the congregation of the mighty; he judgeth among the gods.\n\nJohn 16:11 Of judgment, because the prince of this world is judged.\n\nSince Satan is ultimately condemned by the Law it is clear that he is subject to the Law. It has always been necessary for the devil to conceal his hatred from the view of God and not openly violate the Law. Satan may rebel against God in the sense that he may have a disagreement with God but the devil would not rebel against God in an aggressive or openly hostile way. That would be unbelievably stupid. There is not a single verse or passage in the Bible in which Satan openly defies or openly rebels against God. Satan is evil but according to the Bible Satan presents himself as an angel of righteousness.\n\n2 Corinthians 11:14 And no marvel; for Satan himself is transformed into an angel of light.\n\nIn the book of Job, Satan would always receive permission from God before he did anything to Job or anyone else. In the Garden of Eden, God told Adam and Eve that they would surely die. God knew that all humans would sin and fall short of the Law and God was correct. Satan, on the other hand, said that Adam and Eve would not surely die. God knew that we would sin but the devil pointed out that whether or not we live up to the Law is up to us. Satan's motive may have been evil and his statements may have been intentionally deceptive but his statements were not actually false.\n\nAnother way to look at it is to say that when God said \"you will surely die\", He made a prediction of a future event and Satan also made a prediction by saying \"you will not surely die\". God was right...Satan was wrong, but a prediction that does not come true is not a lie unless the person who made the prediction is able to see the future. There is not a single passage or verse in the Bible in which Satan openly committed a sin of any kind. This is why Satan is still in Heaven.\n\nThe real Satan of the Bible is called an accuser and he presents himself as an angel of righteousness demanding justice. The devil is like a prosecuting attorney. Satan keeps his own hatred of God hidden within himself even while he stands before God condemning humans for their sins.\n\nRevelation 12:10 And I heard a loud voice saying in heaven, Now is come salvation, and strength, and the kingdom of our God, and the power of his Christ: for the accuser of our brethren is cast down, which accused them before our God day and night.\n\nThe devil kept his hatred within himself and yet Christ exposed or witnessed that evil.\n\nIn the book of Luke it was foretold that Christ would reveal the thoughts of many hearts. These are the hearts of Satan and his angels which hide evil. Notice, it is the *child* (Jesus), who is set for the fall (Satan) and rising again (us), and it was Jesus whose side was pierced and His soul was *also* pierced.\n\n_Luke 2:34-35 And Simeon blessed them, and said unto Mary his mother, Behold, this child is set for the fall and rising again of many in Israel; and for a sign which shall be spoken against; (Yea, a_ _sword shall pierce_ _through thy own_ _soul also_ _, ) that the_ _thoughts_ _of many hearts_ _may be revealed_ _._\n\nThe sword that pierced the soul would be the hatred that was directed at Christ when He was on the cross. If Christ revealed the thoughts of many hearts, then it must be true that someone was hiding their thoughts. It is also said that through His death Christ will destroy Satan.\n\n_Hebrews 2:14 Forasmuch then as the children are partakers of flesh and blood, he also himself likewise took part of the same; that_ _through death_ _he might destroy him that had the power of death, that is, the devil;_\n\nIf the devil were openly evil it would not be necessary for Christ to do anything to destroy Satan; Satan would already be condemned by his own actions. If Satan's hatred is hidden within his evil heart it would be necessary for that evil to be exposed. Christ must have exposed or witnessed the evil in the heart of Satan.\n\nSo when Christ was dying on the cross, the devil unloaded his hatred on the Lord. This is what causes all those other verses to fit together. The devil is described as having hidden his \"iniquity\", but \"now\" (at the time of Christ) the evil within Satan is exposed (by Christ) so that the devil \"shall be\" cast out at some point in the future. Satan has not yet been cast out of Heaven because it has been kept secret that the devil was caught in a violation of the Law. If you study the clues in the Bible it is clear that Satan unloaded his hatred on Christ when Christ was on the cross and yet God has miraculously prevented millions of Christians from seeing it.\n\nIt must be understood that Satan did not know Jesus was the Son of God.\n\nMatthew 4:3 And when the tempter came to him, he said, If thou be the Son of God, command that these stones be made bread.\n\n1 Corinthians 2:8 Which none of the princes of this world knew: for had they known it, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory.\n\nChrist drove the money-changers out of the temple because He was overcome by a great love for the house of God.\n\nJohn 2:15-17 And when he had made a scourge of small cords, he drove them all out of the temple, and the sheep, and the oxen; and poured out the changers' money, and overthrew the tables; And said unto them that sold doves, Take these things hence; make not my Father's house an house of merchandise. And his disciples remembered that it was written, The zeal of thine house hath eaten me up.\n\nPsalms 69:9 For the zeal of thine house hath eaten me up; and the reproaches of them that reproached thee are fallen upon me.\n\nSatan falsely accused Christ before the throne of God.\n\nPsalms 35:21Yea, they open their mouth wide against me; they say: 'Aha, aha, our eye hath seen it.\n\nPsalms 109:2 For the mouth of the wicked and the mouth of the deceitful are opened against me: they have spoken against me with a lying tongue.'\n\nThis shows that Satan believed Christ was condemned by the Law and would face eternal death.\n\n_Psalms 41:7-9 All that hate me whisper together against me: against me do they devise my hurt. An evil disease, say they, cleaveth fast unto him: and now that he lieth he_ _shall rise up no more_ _. Yea, mine own familiar friend, in whom I trusted, which did eat of my bread, hath lifted up his heel against me._\n\nSatan believed that Christ was condemned by the letter of the Law yet Christ was perfect under the spirit of the Law which meant that the death of Christ was inconsistent with the Law. According to the Law Christ should never have died. So God turned His Face from the death of Christ.\n\nMatthew 27:46 And about the ninth hour Jesus cried with a loud voice, saying, Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani? that is to say, My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?\n\nPsalms 10:1 Why standest thou afar off, O LORD? why hidest thou thyself in times of trouble?\n\nWith the Face of God turned away from the crucifixion and with the belief that Christ was a mere human who was condemned by the Law, Satan felt it was safe to unload his hatred on Christ.\n\nPsalms 71:10-11 For mine enemies speak against me; and they that lay wait for my soul take counsel together, Saying, God hath forsaken him: persecute and take him; for there is none to deliver him.\n\n_Psalm 64:1-5 Hear my voice, O God, in my prayer: preserve my life from fear of the enemy. Hide me from the secret counsel of the wicked; from the insurrection of the workers of iniquity: Who whet their tongue like a sword, and bend their bows to shoot their arrows, even_ _bitter words_ _: That they may shoot in secret at_ _the perfect_ _: suddenly do they shoot at him, and fear not. They encourage themselves in an evil matter: they commune of laying snares privily; they say, Who shall see them?_\n\nNotice that Satan and his angels feared not. This is because God had looked away and the devil did not realize that Christ is God who transcends both the material world and all the spirits of Heaven. Christ was able to communicate with spirits which we are not able to see. Christ demonstrated His ability to discern and communicate with unseen spirits on many occasions before He was crucified. Christ felt and witnessed the hatred of Satan when He was on the cross. This is why Christ was so repulsed by the cross.\n\nLuke 22:42-44 Saying, Father, if thou be willing, remove this cup from me: nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done. And there appeared an angel unto him from heaven, strengthening him. And being in an agony he prayed more earnestly: and his sweat was as it were great drops of blood falling down to the ground.\n\nChrist did not fear death since He knew He would rise again. (In fact, the Spirit of Christ did not die on the cross. He laid down His body and He took up again His body. He knew that only His body would die so there was no reason for Christ to fear death). Like God, Christ is repulsed by evil and while He was on the cross He would have all the hatred of hell directed at Him...more hatred than we can imagine.\n\nChrist witnessed the evil of Satan and this is why He is called the faithful witness.\n\nRevelation 1:5 And from Jesus Christ, who is the faithful witness, and the first begotten of the dead, and the prince of the kings of the earth. Unto him that loved us, and washed us from our sins in his own blood,\n\nLooking at the following passage, it is clear that the dogs who compassed the crucifixion were the Roman soldiers, but Jesus was also surrounded by much larger \"bulls\" who attacked Christ verbally (or spiritually).\n\nPsalms 22:12-18 Many bulls have compassed me: strong bulls of Bashan have beset me round. They gaped upon me with their mouths, as a ravening and a roaring lion. I am poured out like water, and all my bones are out of joint: my heart is like wax; it is melted in the midst of my bowels. My strength is dried up like a potsherd; and my tongue cleaveth to my jaws; and thou hast brought me into the dust of death. For dogs have compassed me: the assembly of the wicked have inclosed me: they pierced my hands and my feet. I may tell all my bones: they look and stare upon me. They part my garments among them, and cast lots upon my vesture.\n\nNotice what Christ said about those who hate Him.\n\nJohn 15:22-25 If I had not come and spoken unto them, they had not had sin: but now they have no cloke for their sin. He that hateth me hateth my Father also. If I had not done among them the works which none other man did, they had not had sin: but now have they both seen and hated both me and my Father. But this cometh to pass, that the word might be fulfilled that is written in their law, They hated me without a cause.\n\n\"They have no cloke for their sin\" is reference to the fact that the evil of Satan and his angels is no longer hidden but has been witnessed by Christ. \"Their Law\" is reference to the fact that Satan has acknowledged and supported the Law by his condemnation of humanity. Christ often stated that we are judged as we judge others, so the devil is condemned by his own words.\n\nThe phrase, \"hated me without a cause\" was used on several occasions by King David.\n\nPsalms 69:4 They that hate me without a cause are more than the hairs of mine head: they that would destroy me, being mine enemies wrongfully, are mighty: then I restored that which I took not away.\n\n_Psalms 109:3 They_ _compassed me about_ _also with words of hatred; and fought against me without a cause._\n\n_Psalms 119:161_ _Princes_ _have persecuted me without a cause: but my heart standeth in awe of thy word._\n\nThe devil condemns humans and he demonstrates his hatred of humanity but his hatred of humanity is hatred with a cause. Satan accuses and condemns humans for their sins which is hatred with a cause just as it is perfectly reasonable for us to denounce a murderer. Christ was perfect and without sin. The hatred directed at Christ by Satan was hatred without a cause. It was not the just condemnation of sin, it was pure hatred and evil and Satan has no excuse for it. Now Satan is revealed to have violated the Law by hating God.\n\n\"He that hateth me hateth my Father\" is because Christ returns to Oneness with God. Christ is the Son of God but this means that when Christ was born, the one God of Heaven sent a small part of Himself into the world. This is why Christ is called \"Son of God\" and not \"Brother of God\". God created the spirit of love within each of us but the Spirit that came into the body of Christ was not merely created by God, it was a small piece of the essence of God. After He was resurrected, Christ returned to Heaven to sit at the right hand of God.\n\n_Psalms 110:1 The LORD said unto my Lord, Sit thou at my right hand,_ _until_ _I make thine enemies thy footstool._\n\nChrist will not be at the \"right hand\" of God for all eternity but only until His enemies are made His footstool. The relationship of Christ at the right hand of God will come to an end and the enemies of God will be made His footstool. These are two different events but they occur at the same time because one causes the other. Christ will no longer sit at the right hand of God because He will go back to God. Christ will again be one with God, and there will again be one God. The memories and experiences of Christ will be part of God and God will be a witness against the devil. This is how the enemies of the Lord will be made His footstool, and Satan will be condemned by the Law and ultimately destroyed.\n\nJude 1:9 Yet Michael the archangel, when contending with the devil he disputed about the body of Moses, durst not bring against him a railing accusation, but said, The Lord rebuke thee.\n\nA secret has been kept from Satan but is now being revealed. Satan does not know, nor has he considered, that Jesus came from God and will again be one with God. The Devil saw Christ as an imperfect human and the Christians came to believe that Christ is a co-God or part of the \"Trinity\" an idea which Satan knows to be false since there is only one God. Once the devil realizes that Christ is perfect under the Law and that Christ came from God and will fully return to God, then the devil will know that he is doomed.\n\n_Revelation 12:12 Therefore rejoice, ye heavens, and ye that dwell in them. Woe to the inhabiters of the earth and of the sea! for the devil is come down unto you, having great wrath, because_ _he knoweth_ _that he hath but a short time._\n\nWhen Satan is cast out of Heaven he knows that he has but a short time meaning he now knows that he is doomed. Satan could not have known of his pending doom before that time. If Satan had previously known that he was doomed he would have previously had great wrath, and there would have previously been conflict in Heaven. Once Satan knows that he is doomed there will be conflict in Heaven. Christ has not yet fully returned to (being one with) God which means Satan is not yet condemned under the Law but because of the conflict he will be cast out of Heaven into the Earth.\n\nKnowing that he is already doomed Satan will openly violate the Law of God after he is cast out into the Earth. At that point the devil will have nothing to lose. This is what Armageddon is all about; Armageddon is the last throes of a great evil spirit that now knows it is to be destroyed.\n\nRevelation calls God: Him that \"was, is, and is to come\". Revelation calls Christ: \"Alpha and Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end\" Why do the descriptions of Christ leave off the middle? This is because the middle is different. Christ is not the same during the middle as He was at the beginning or He will be in the end. In the end Christ will be as He was at the beginning. Christ will be One with God.\n\nThe following passage is one of the most incredible in the Bible, because the book of Revelation had previously referred to Christ as \"Alpha and Omega\".\n\nRevelation 21:5-6 And he that sat upon the throne said, Behold, I make all things new. And he said unto me, Write: for these words are true and faithful. And he said unto me, It is done. I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end. I will give unto him that is athirst of the fountain of the water of life freely.\n\nThis passage is clearly about God the Father (Who sits on the throne). After declaring, \"it is done\", meaning something significant has been accomplished (like when Christ on the cross declared \"it is finished\"), God the Father then says, \"I am Alpha and Omega\". God is basically saying, \"I am Christ\". The significant event that \"is done\" is referring to the return of Christ to Oneness with God after which God proclaims, \"I am Alpha and Omega\".\n\nJesus the Christ is not A god; Jesus is *the* God of Heaven. This is the secret that has been kept from Satan...the revelation of which will cause Satan to be cast from Heaven. There is only one God. The Spirit within Jesus is a small piece of the essence of God but Jesus came from oneness with God and will return to oneness with God.\n\n_Psalms 21:8 Thine hand shall find out all thine enemies:_ _thy right hand_ _shall find out those that hate thee._\n\nRevelation 12:7-8 And there was war in heaven: Michael and his angels fought against the dragon; and the dragon fought and his angels, And prevailed not; neither was their place found any more in heaven\n\nTable of Contents\n\nBiblical Passages Concerning the Truth not Being Revealed until the End\n\nThe Trinity and substitution atonement were both concocted well after Christ died since Jesus never fully explained His relationship to God or \"how\" He redeems people through His death on the cross. Is God three entities in eternity as proponents of the \"Trinity\" claim? Does God literally transfer responsibility for sin from us to Christ as substitution atonement claims? It seems odd that Christ didn't tell us exactly what He meant by \"Son of God\" and exactly \"how\" we are forgiven by His death and we should not have such unshakable confidence that what Christ decided not to tell us would be revealed by a vote taken centuries after His death.\n\nJesus said the Holy Spirit would be sent to guide us and it is believed these revelations of the Trinity and substitution atonement came to the early Church from the Holy Spirit but the fact that Christians have always disagreed with each other means that the Holy Spirit does not reveal all knowledge to all Christians. Some information is not revealed until a certain time. It is certainly true that some very important information wasn't revealed by Christ and there would have to be a reason for this. Some knowledge not revealed at the first coming of the Messiah could wait to be revealed at the return of the Messiah or the period leading up to His return. All will be revealed by the Holy Spirit just as Christ said but all information will be revealed at the proper time. The Church answered questions that had to be answered but Christ never said when the Holy Spirit would provide us with any particular piece of information.\n\nOne common theme in both the Old and New Testament is that the followers of God in the end times will sing a new song and eventually the whole world will sing this new song. A song conveys a message. Being a new song means that it is a new message...a new revelation from God.\n\n_Psalms 98:1-3 O sing unto the LORD a_ _new song_ _; for he hath done marvellous things: his right hand, and his holy arm, hath gotten him the victory. The LORD hath made known his salvation: his righteousness hath he openly shewed in the sight of the heathen. He hath remembered his mercy and his truth toward the house of Israel: all the ends of the earth have seen the salvation of our God._\n\nThere are three events described in this passage. God remembers Israel, God reveals His salvation and the Earth sees the glory of God. Christianity in any of its forms was not taken to the world until many centuries after Israel was destroyed. Only in modern time when Israel has been restored can this passage be fulfilled. It may be that God \"remembers\" Israel by the restoration of Israel or it may be that God remembers Israel by some event yet to come but this passage could not have been fulfilled when Israel did not exist. This \"new song\" or revelation of new information would have to come in modern time and it is unavoidable that it will conflict with some of the answers that the Church was forced to develop.\n\nThis new song or message reveals how the right hand of God has gotten the victory. Christ is the right hand of God...the one who sits at the right hand of God so Christ has gotten the victory but according to this passage how He does it is not revealed or made known until modern time. This salvation, which is to say how Christ redeems us, will be seen by all the ends of the earth.\n\nIsaiah 52:15 So shall he sprinkle many nations; the kings shall shut their mouths at him: for that which had not been told them shall they see; and that which they had not heard shall they consider.\n\nChristians tend to believe that this \"revelation of knowledge\" often described in the Bible was fulfilled at the time of Christ and certainly there was knowledge revealed at that time. But Christ spoke in parables and clearly did not come for the purpose of revealing all knowledge, at least not during His first coming. Did the kings of the earth shut their mouths at Christ? Did He reveal knowledge that they could not answer, but it was impressive enough that they considered it? Actually no, Christ did not do this during His first coming. An examination of the many scriptures that relate to this \"New Song\" or this revelation of knowledge indicates that knowledge is to be revealed in the end times.\n\n1 Peter 1:5 Who are kept by the power of God through faith unto salvation ready to be revealed in the last time.\n\nThis new message makes His salvation known. It reveals how the right hand of God (Christ) has gotten the victory and references to the \"new song\" found in the book of Revelation confirms that this new song is revealed in the end times.\n\n_Revelation 5:8-10 And when he had taken the book, the four beasts and four and twenty elders fell down before the Lamb, having every one of them harps, and golden vials full of odours, which are the prayers of saints. And they sung a_ _new song_ _, saying, Thou art worthy to take the book, and to open the seals thereof: for thou wast slain, and hast_ _redeemed us_ _to God by thy blood out of_ _every kindred, and tongue, and people, and nation_ _; And hast made us unto our God kings and priests: and we shall reign on the earth._\n\nOne central theme of the new song is Christ and how He provides redemption to His children. With this new message we learn that the redemption provided by Christ is not only for the Christian nations but it is for the children of God from all nations, peoples, and tongues.\n\n_Revelation 14:1-3 And I looked, and, lo, a Lamb stood on the mount Sion, and with him an hundred forty and four thousand, having his Father's name written in their foreheads. And I heard a voice from heaven, as the voice of many waters, and as the voice of a great thunder: and I heard the voice of harpers harping with their harps: And they sung as it were a_ _new song_ _before the throne, and before the four beasts, and the elders: and no man could learn that song but the hundred and forty and four thousand, which were redeemed from the earth._\n\nEventually all the world will be singing this new song but it starts with just a small percentage of humanity which can learn the new song. This would those who believe in the new message.\n\nPsalms 96:10-13 Say among the heathen that the LORD reigneth: the world also shall be established that it shall not be moved: he shall judge the people righteously. Let the heavens rejoice, and let the earth be glad; let the sea roar, and the fulness thereof. Let the field be joyful, and all that is therein: then shall all the trees of the wood rejoice Before the LORD: for he cometh, for he cometh to judge the earth: he shall judge the world with righteousness, and the people with his truth.\n\nThe new song is about how we are redeemed by Christ yet the Lord shall judge the world with righteousness which seems to rule out our sins being transferred to Christ since that wouldn't be fair. It also seems odd that there is always a great celebration considering that our being judged righteously would seem to present a problem for us. The Lord judges us with perfect righteousness and this is somehow good news.\n\nAnother central theme of this new message is praise to the glory of God. The new song or new message reveals how God has done marvelous things and how the will of God is achieved in absolute completeness. God gives us our own free will; He judges all by their works; He destroys all evil and yet God redeems all of His children. God in His mercy redeems every tiny piece of love and God in His justice destroys every tiny piece of evil. God wins in all things and He loses none of His children. The purpose of creation is achieved and God sets all things right. His will is achieved in all things. The new song is the great good news that God is existence and God is absolute Love, Mercy and Justice beyond comprehension. We may fail in our efforts and need God but this is good. There is no greater comfort than to know that God is in complete control and in all things His will be done.\n\nPsalm 85:11 Truth shall spring out of the earth; and righteousness shall look down from heaven.\n\nTable of Contents\n\nBiblical Passages Concerning Why We Need Redemption Part 1\n\nThe world is not evil. The flesh is not evil. The flesh is weak and is manipulated by evil. God created the world and the world was without evil. When Satan came into the world, evil and self-centeredness came into the world.\n\nGenesis 1:31 And God saw every thing that he had made, and, behold, it was very good. And the evening and the morning were the sixth day.\n\nThe world was good; the animals loved and respected and did no harm to one another. All the life God created was good and deserved to live. In this world God created man in His own image. He created man, not when he formed a lifeless statue of dust but rather when He breathed in man's nostrils the breath of life and man became a living soul. God is love and it is the love within us that is created in the image of God.\n\nSome of the angels like Satan were not given the ability to unselfishly love others and they became evil. According to God, love is the true measure of greatness but as Satan sees it the measure of greatness is power. This means that in the eyes of God we humans are actually superior to powerful Satan but Satan is greatly offended that God considers humanity superior to him. Satan and other loveless egocentric angels were determined to destroy humanity but they knew humanity had to be destroyed without violating God's Law.\n\nWisdom of Solomon 2:23-24 For God created man for immortality, and made him the image of his own eternity, But through the devil's envy death came into the world, and those who belong to his party experience it.\n\nSatan convinced Adam and Eve to disobey God. God had required that the angels of Heaven respect the humans He had created. Satan could not enter into Eve's mind and entice her to disobedience because God would not allow it. Satan had to appear before Eve as a serpent and persuade her to disobey God.\n\nBecause of the disobedience of Adam and Eve the spirits of Heaven were allowed to enter the bodies of these first two humans. Eating the forbidden fruit was the \"original sin\" but it was not an evil act. It was merely disobedience. God would no longer require the angels of Heaven to stay away from the humans because the humans could not stay away from the forbidden fruit as He had required them.\n\nThe tree was called the knowledge of good and evil. Biblically speaking to know someone is to become one with them as when husband and wife are said to know each other. Eating the forbidden fruit meant the good and evil spirits of Heaven are now allowed to know or to become one with humans. This means that Satan would now be allowed to enter into our bodies and become one with us.\n\nSatan had taken the bait. This is exactly what God had in mind and this is what God knew would happen. Now God has beings who struggle within themselves between good and evil. God has always been in control and He always will be. This is not to say that God controls everything that happens but that God foreknew everything that would happen. God foreknew every possible outcome of every event and He intervenes when necessary to achieve a desired outcome. God created time but He is not governed by time. God exists outside of time and He sees the end from the beginning. Satan is a powerful spirit but he is nothing compared to God and it is absurd to think that Satan could ever do battle with God.\n\nSatan is large and powerful and his spirit fills the world. His spirit is all around us, and with the fall of Adam and Eve his spirit is in our hearts and minds as well. Satan does not control us; he is part of us. Satan influences us just as air pollution and climate will both have an effect on our mood and behavior.\n\nWith the influence of Satan all of humanity has been less than perfect and has become subject to death under the Law. This death comes from Satan and it is his desire for humanity. Satan is not the leader of hell who battles God for the soul of man; Satan has no desire for the soul of man but to destroy it. Satan is not in hell at all; he is still an angel of Heaven. He is a narcissistic, self-righteous angel who persuades humans to sin and then accuses them before the throne of God.\n\nJohn 10:10 The thief cometh not, but for to steal, and to kill, and to destroy: I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly.\n\nSatan is the accuser. Satan influences our behavior but we are the ones who sin. We commit sins and we are convicted as Satan himself points out our sins before the throne of God.\n\nRevelation 12:10 And I heard a loud voice saying in heaven, Now is come salvation, and strength, and the kingdom of our God, and the power of his Christ: for the accuser of our brethren is cast down, which accused them before our God day and night.\n\nSin is in the heart; it is not the physical act, but a physical act of sin does reveal the sin in the heart. God is in every physical \"place\" in creation. God sees all evil acts that are committed in the material world. If Satan commits a physical act of sin, God will witness the sin even without looking into Satan's evil heart. If Satan commits murder, even the murder of a human, then Satan will be guilty of violating the Law of God. If Satan bears false witness he will be guilty.\n\nJeremiah 23:24 Can any hide himself in secret places that I shall not see him? saith the LORD. Do not I fill heaven and earth? saith the LORD.\n\nProverbs 15:3 The eyes of the LORD are in every place, beholding the evil and the good.\n\nSatan has always tried to avoid doing anything for which he can be found guilty of violating the Law of God. Even when humans have come to hate each other because of his influence Satan claims this is a product of human weakness. Weakness is what Satan sees as inferior.\n\nSince the fall of Adam and Eve the world has been the dominion of Satan. The physical world has been governed by the law of Satan which is survival of the fittest. Satan believes he has demonstrated that power is the true measure of greatness. The Law of God is based on love not power yet even under the Law of God, the powerful Satan lives up to the Law because of his strength of will but the compassionate yet weak humans fail to live up to the Law.\n\nThe spirit of Satan reaches throughout creation and influences all creatures in creation but Satan himself does not kill, not even animals. Under the influence of Satan animals kill each other just as humans kill each other. Satan may gain permission from God to act against humanity as he did in the book of Job. Satan cannot be convicted for actions that are sanctioned by God.\n\nJob 1:8-12 And the LORD said unto Satan, Hast thou considered my servant Job, that there is none like him in the earth, a perfect and an upright man, one that feareth God, and escheweth evil? Then Satan answered the LORD, and said, Doth Job fear God for nought? Hast not thou made an hedge about him, and about his house, and about all that he hath on every side? thou hast blessed the work of his hands, and his substance is increased in the land. But put forth thine hand now, and touch all that he hath, and he will curse thee to thy face. And the LORD said unto Satan, Behold, all that he hath is in thy power; only upon himself put not forth thine hand. So Satan went forth from the presence of the LORD.\n\nSin is in the heart not the act. Satan killed the sons and daughters of Job but he did so with authorization from God so the act of killing did not reveal any hatred within Satan. Satan does not kill without permission from God; he does, however, get people to kill each other as when Cain killed Abel. The spirit of Satan fills the world and the self-centeredness that came from Satan caused jealousy to develop within Cain. Satan merely brings a spirit of love of self into the world. The hatred developed and grew in the heart of Cain.\n\nGenesis 4:8 And Cain talked with Abel his brother: and it came to pass, when they were in the field, that Cain rose up against Abel his brother, and slew him.\n\nSatan has dominion in the world by his spirit influencing all living fleshly creatures, not by controlling them. Satan does not even control inanimate objects as far as being able to use objects to violate the Law of God. Satan does not cause earthquakes or hurricanes unless he is first given permission from God. If Satan were actually in charge of natural disasters, there would be a lot more natural disasters.\n\nMany natural forces were put in place after the fall of Adam and Eve. Hurricanes are produced by energy from the sun; earthquakes are the result of the movement of tectonic plates. By the influence of Satan we sin and in accordance with the Law we die but God also established natural forces by which the influence of Satan in the world causes us to replace ourselves with the next generation.\n\nGod made us so that the presence of Satan would cause us to experience lust. Our flesh is born because of the influence of Satan. Adam and Eve were created by God but the rest of us are products of sex which means we are products of Satan. It is therefore only reasonable that our flesh be influenced by and under the dominion of Satan. In this way the fall of Adam and Eve is passed to all humans who have lived since.\n\nEven though Satan is able to destroy all humans he is unable to destroy humanity. Each generation replaces itself, and Satan is limited in what he is able to do because he tries not to violate the Law of God. The only thing Satan can do to us is what he can cause us to do to ourselves and to each other. Yet, Satan likely enjoys the game and has no regret that he cannot completely destroy humanity. Satan takes pleasure in playing God in the Earth and destroying each generation.\n\nSatan uses humans to destroy each other and by causing us to sin he uses the Law of God to secure the inevitable destruction of each individual human. We violate the Law; we are less than perfect; we sometimes experience hatred and behave selfishly. We also self-righteously become angry with others because of their faults even though their faults may be no worse than our own. Even by our own words we do not fairly deserve eternal reward. In the end Satan will be condemned and the children of God will be redeemed but after the fall of humanity in the Garden of Eden it is humanity that faces eternal death under the Law, not Satan.\n\nYet, everything is going as expected. One thing that had to be accomplished is that Satan had to acknowledge, accept and completely support the Law of God. For thousands of years Satan has caused humans to sin as he accuses them before the throne of God. Satan continuously points out to God the sins of humans; he points out that all of God's precious humans must be destroyed according to the Law of God. In the end Satan will be condemned with the same words he has used to condemn humanity.\n\nGenesis 9:6 Whoso sheddeth man's blood, by man shall his blood be shed: for in the image of God made he man.\n\nTable of Contents\n\nBiblical Passages Concerning Why We Need Redemption Part 2\n\nGod is Love and the Law of God is all about love.\n\nMatthew 22:37-40 Jesus said unto him, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.\n\nAccording to God the measure of greatness is love so love and hate are the basis for determining who is rewarded and who is punished under the Law. Love is righteousness and hatred is sin.\n\nLeviticus 24:19-20 And if a man cause a blemish in his neighbour; as he hath done, so shall it be done to him; Breach for breach, eye for eye, tooth for tooth: as he hath caused a blemish in a man, so shall it be done to him again.\n\nPunishment and reward rendered under the Law is \"breach for breach, eye for eye, tooth for tooth\", meaning it is completely fair. Punishment will equal sin and reward will equal righteousness. Since the Law is enforced in this completely fair manner it does not seem possible for any human to be resurrected to eternal life. The reward of eternal life does not equal the limited righteousness of someone who has sinned even if they only sinned one time. Can a person who has ninety-nine sins deserve eternal reward but a person with one hundred sins not deserve eternal reward? Any \"cut-off\" point means that the last sin committed tipped the scales and led to condemnation. It is that one last sin that caused the person to be condemned. It is not possible to have a fair \"cut-off\" point. In all fairness even a person who has only one sin does not truly deserve the unlimited joy and happiness of eternal life.\n\nSince we are part evil, it can be difficult for us to accept that all evil must be destroyed, but any person who is evil will become miserable and will need to be destroyed for his own sake. Even a person who is part evil will eventually become miserable. Imagine being in Heaven. You have a mansion, a beautiful garden and everything your heart desires. Imagine being there for a thousand years...a million years...a billion years...a billion times a billion. In order for Heaven to truly be Heaven the inhabitants must have perfect love that never dies or fades. It is necessary for the Law of God to destroy all evil and that is exactly what the Law of God will do.\n\nPsalms 14:3 They are all gone aside, they are all together become filthy: there is none that doeth good, no, not one.\n\nEcclesiastes 7:20 For there is not a just man upon earth, that doeth good, and sinneth not.\n\nJames 2:10 For whosoever shall keep the whole law, and yet offend in one point, he is guilty of all.\n\nMatthew 5:48 Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect.\n\nRevelation 21:27 And there shall in no wise enter into it any thing that defileth, neither whatsoever worketh abomination, or maketh a lie: but they which are written in the Lamb's book of life.\n\nFor us humans this is an impossible Law to live up to but if God is a just God He must apply the Law fairly to all. We can be certain that God is just otherwise He would have simply destroyed Satan and resurrected His children without the sacrifice of the crucifix. God does not answer to anyone but Himself, but He does answer to Himself. God is complete perfection: Love, Mercy, and Justice. God will not do anything that is unfair or unjust, just as He will not tell a lie.\n\nChrist died, not so much to provide eternal life to His children but to justify that gift in His own eyes. This may be redundant but it is remarkable that He required Himself to die on the cross, to meet His own requirements for the resurrection of those who are resurrected to eternal life.\n\nGod must be a Loving God if He sent His own Son to die on the cross and if Christ is the Son of God it can be said with absolute certainty that God must be a just God. The God of Jesus cannot be a God who punishes one person for the sins of another. He cannot be a God who punishes Christ for our sins. It is not fair. Christ is not responsible for our sins and no theological rhetoric can allow us to escape responsibility for our own thoughts and actions. Being a just God, God must justify resurrecting His children to eternal life even while He destroys Satan.\n\nDeuteronomy 24:16 The fathers shall not be put to death for the children, neither shall the children be put to death for the fathers: every man shall be put to death for his own sin.\n\nEzekiel 18:19-20 Yet say ye, Why? doth not the son bear the iniquity of the father? When the son hath done that which is lawful and right, and hath kept all my statutes, and hath done them, he shall surely live. The soul that sinneth, it shall die. The son shall not bear the iniquity of the father, neither shall the father bear the iniquity of the son: the righteousness of the righteous shall be upon him, and the wickedness of the wicked shall be upon him.\n\nProverbs 21:3 ¶ To do justice and judgment is more acceptable to the LORD than sacrifice.\n\nGod did not actually create evil, but created beings that lack the ability to love others knowing that those beings would become evil. The onset of evil led, not only to hatred and sin but also to the condemnation of others. Condemnation does not come from God since self-righteousness and condemnation are products of evil. God is not only Just and Fair, He is also infinitely Loving and Merciful. God is infinitely Righteous, He will not lie, He will not do anything that is unfair, He will not sin and yet He does not condemn anyone who does sin. Regardless of how many times we sin, the Mercy of God is infinite and we are not condemned by God. Our condemnation of others comes from the same part of us from which our sin comes. We condemn ourselves when we condemn others for doing the same thing we have done. God will judge everyone by their own words and their own judgment of others. This is how the infinite Justice of God is reconciled with the infinite Mercy of God.\n\nJohn 8:10-11 When Jesus had lifted up himself, and saw none but the woman, he said unto her, Woman, where are those thine accusers? hath no man condemned thee? She said, No man, Lord. And Jesus said unto her, Neither do I condemn thee: go, and sin no more.\n\nWhen Jesus said, \"He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her\", the people dropped their stones and walked away. There was then no one to condemn the woman who had committed adultery and Jesus said, \"Neither do I condemn thee\". There is no condemnation of sinners from God, only forgiveness. We are condemned under the Law because of our condemnation of others just as Satan is condemned under the Law because of his condemnation of humanity.\n\nDeuteronomy 17:4-7 And it be told thee, and thou hast heard of it, and enquired diligently, and, behold, it be true, and the thing certain, that such abomination is wrought in Israel: Then shalt thou bring forth that man or that woman, which have committed that wicked thing, unto thy gates, even that man or that woman, and shalt stone them with stones, till they die. At the mouth of two witnesses, or three witnesses, shall he that is worthy of death be put to death; but at the mouth of one witness he shall not be put to death. The hands of the witnesses shall be first upon him to put him to death, and afterward the hands of all the people. So thou shalt put the evil away from among you.\n\nThe people were told to stone to death those \"worthy of death\", but \"the witnesses shall be first upon him\". The witnesses are the ones who are making the accusation and they are to cast the first stones. When Christ came He said the one who casts the first stone should be without sin. The person who makes the accusation, the person who condemns or denounces someone else should not themselves be a sinner.\n\nJohn 8:7 So when they continued asking him, he lifted up himself, and said unto them, He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her.\n\nOnly God is perfect and can condemn sinners yet God does not condemn sinners because He is perfect. Christ is making it clear that we are not to judge or condemn others. In fact, God will judge us according to the Law based on our condemnation of others. Christ did not destroy or even modify the Law; He merely explained it. The Law has always been in the hands of God.\n\nPsalms 94:1 O LORD God, to whom vengeance belongeth; O God, to whom vengeance belongeth, shew thyself.\n\nIsaiah 2:4 And he shall judge among the nations, and shall rebuke many people: and they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruninghooks: nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more.\n\nIsaiah 33:22 For the LORD is our judge, the LORD is our lawgiver, the LORD is our king; he will save us.\n\nChrist explained that the Law is the in the hands of God. He also explained that under the Law of God we are judged as we judge others.\n\nLuke 6:37 Judge not, and ye shall not be judged: condemn not, and ye shall not be condemned: forgive, and ye shall be forgiven:\n\nMatthew 6:14-15 For if ye forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you: But if ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.\n\nMatthew 7:2 For with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged: and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again.\n\nThe Law of God applies to all who have walked the face of the Earth. Since we are judged as we judge others, the Law can fairly apply to everyone even to those who never heard of the Ten Commandments and to those who lived and died without ever hearing the name \"YHWH\". Even a person who never heard the Law of God will denounce and judge others. By the act of judging it is completely fair they be judged. All are judged by their own words and their own judgment for violations of the Law of God. This is the absolute fairness of the Law of God.\n\nPsalms 90:8 Thou hast set our iniquities before thee, our secret sins in the light of thy countenance.\n\nThe children of God are judged, not only for their acts of sin but also for their sins of the mind and heart. God is with His children at all times and while He will not look into an evil heart like with Satan, the thoughts of God's children are open to His view. In order to earn the right to sit in judgment we must be perfect not only in deed but also in thought.\n\nMatthew 5:28 But I say unto you, That whosoever looketh on a woman to lust after her hath committed adultery with her already in his heart.\n\nLust in the heart is the same sin as the physical act of adultery because the physical act of adultery is merely the manifestation of sin. The Creator of time and space is not overly concerned with the mechanical act of sex. It may be true that a person who commits the physical act of adultery has a greater quantity of lust than the person who only lusts in their heart but it is only a question of quantity. The sin is the same because the sin is in the heart.\n\nIf we judge someone for adultery, if we feel anger towards someone who has committed adultery then it is absolutely fair that we be condemned by all of our own adultery and also by all of the lust we have committed. We are condemned by our own judgment. If we lust in our heart we are in no position to condemn anyone for adultery.\n\n1 John 3:15 Whosoever hateth his brother is a murderer: and ye know that no murderer hath eternal life abiding in him.\n\nTo commit the physical act of murder would have to require or produce a greater degree of hatred. Murder would therefore be a greater violation than mere hatred even if the two are the same sin. By hatred we have a little bit of a murderer inside us just as we have a little bit of adulterer in us by lust. The murderer is not different from the rest of us, only worse. It is simply a matter of different shades of gray. We all come in different shades of gray but the Law is black and white. If we denounce someone for murder, if we feel hostility for someone who has committed murder, it becomes fair and reasonable for us to be condemned not only for any murders we have committed but also for any hatred we have experience.\n\nMatthew 5:44 But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you;\n\nIt seems unreasonable to say we should hold no hostility towards a murderer but hostility towards someone who has committed murder is not a sin. To judge someone, to feel hostility towards someone who has committed an evil act is hatred with a cause which means it is hatred with a good reason.\n\nGod is infinitely forgiving of sinners but God does hate sin. We do not sin when we denounce someone for violating the Law of God. Satan knows that God hates unrighteousness which is why Satan goes before the throne of God and condemns humans for their sins. We do not stand accused by Satan when we denounce a sinner. Satan himself denounces sinners.\n\nHatred without a cause is a sin but when we hate someone with a cause we do not sin. We do acknowledge that what they did was wrong. We are correct in pointing out that a sinner is a sinner, it is understandable we hold a grudge against murderers and rapists but like Satan, we will be judged because we judge. We put ourselves under the Law of God and we forfeit the forgiveness of God for our sins by our unwillingness to forgive.\n\nJames 4:11 Speak not evil one of another, brethren. He that speaketh evil of his brother, and judgeth his brother, speaketh evil of the law, and judgeth the law: but if thou judge the law, thou art not a doer of the law, but a judge.\n\nIt is only fair and reasonable we stand before the Lord on the Day of Judgment and be judged by our own words. Since we condemn those who commit murder we will be judged less than perfect even for that little bit of murderer in us.\n\nRomans 7:16 If then I do that which I would not, I consent unto the law that it is good.\n\nNot only do we sin but we, \"consent unto the law\" by holding others accountable. By our own words we are less than perfect and do not deserve eternal life. This may sound like a hard Law but in the end the Law will eliminate all hatred and misery and it will accomplish this objective with complete fairness. Love is truly the only thing that deserves or can enjoy eternal life and if the imperfections of this world are resurrected to the afterlife, then Heaven will be no better than Earth.\n\nHard or not, it is a fair Law. It is our own law. The Law is no harder on any of us than we are on each other. We are judged because we judge others and if we forgive others we are forgiven. Unfortunately, this does not mean if we start now to forgive others we are worthy of eternal life.\n\nEternal and unlimited forgiveness requires always forgiving others. Our entire lives are examined on the Day of Judgment. We must be perfect to truly deserve the perfection of eternal life.\n\nMatthew 12:36 But I say unto you, That every idle word that men shall speak, they shall give account thereof in the day of judgment.\n\nEcclesiastes 12:14 For God shall bring every work into judgment, with every secret thing, whether it be good, or whether it be evil.\n\nWe must be perfect and God will not simply modify us to make us perfect. God must respect us as distinct and separate entities, He must judge us as separate entities and He will not modify us as if we are toys. God acknowledges our existence by respecting us as individuals. By this respect we know that God will give us eternal life. If God did not give us this respect, we could be sure of nothing. God will not modify us but Christ, however, is one of us and when Christ discards His flesh it is only fair that we be given the same opportunity.\n\nTable of Contents\n\nBiblical Summary Concerning Redemption by Separation\n\nGod is the highest level of reality. God is Love and all love came from God. The children of God are those who posses love and compassion for others and they were given that ability to love by God. The love within us is called the spirit and this love within us is the true child of God. Our flesh comes from our parents and the presence of Satan in the world.\n\nJohn 3:6 That which is born of the flesh is flesh; and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit.\n\nWhile the spirit of love within us was created by God, the Spirit that came into the body of Christ came from the essence of God. Christ and only Christ lived a life of complete perfection. Christ carried His flesh back to Heaven. In the end Christ will discard His flesh and fully return to being One with God, it will then be fair for our flesh to be discarded since Christ is one of us.\n\nIf the love or spirit within us is separated from our flesh and judged as a separate person, our spirit will be found to have lived up to the Law. This separation of our spirit from our flesh is called \"Grace\" and it will redeem all the children of God regardless of their religious or non-religious beliefs. It will transform us into beings who truly love each other and love God.\n\nBelow are some of the Biblical references to support the idea that redemption of humanity is achieved by separating the flesh from the spirit:\n\n(Ge 1:4-18) God created the world by separating light from darkness, day from night, the waters under the firmament from the waters above the firmament.\n\n(Ex 14:16-21) God separated water from water when Israel was delivered from Egypt.\n\n(Jos 3:16-17) God separated water from water when He brought the Israelis across Jordan.\n\nNumerous passages in Exodus, Numbers and Leviticus describe blood, water or oil being sprinkled (separated) in rituals.\n\n(Nu 19:9) The sacrifice of the heifer was referred to as a water of separation.\n\n(Ex 12:12-13) Israel as a nation was born in bondage to Egypt but in the Passover the Israelis were separated.\n\n(Ge 17:10-11) Circumcision is when 'unclean' flesh is removed.\n\n(Col 2:11) The apostle Paul referred to the circumcision of Christ, saying it puts off the 'body of the sins of the flesh.'\n\n(1 Ki 13:2-3) The Old Testament said the altar would be rent.\n\n(Mt 27:51) When Christ was crucified the veil (Christ) was torn into two pieces and the rocks (us) were also rent.\n\n(Mt 5:29-30) Christ said if thy right eye offend thee, pluck it out. If thy right hand offend thee, cut it off. In other words, if a person is part good and part evil, throw away the part that is evil and keep the part that is good.\n\n(Ps 110:1) The relationship of Christ at the right hand of God will not last forever. On the Day of Judgment, His enemies will be made His footstool and this relationship will end. This is because Christ will discard His flesh, go back to God and He will again be One with God.\n\n(Re 1:4-18) Revelation refers to God as Him which is, and which was, and which is to come. Revelation refers to Christ as Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the ending, the first and the last. Unlike the description of God, the description of Christ does not mention the middle. The middle is different. In the end He will be as He was at the beginning.\n\n(Isa 62:2; Re 3:12) Both the Old and New Testaments mention that the Lord will receive a new name suggesting that the Lord will go through some kind of change just as when Abram became Abraham or Saul became Paul.\n\n(Lu 22:19) Christ said He would give up His body for us. He did not merely say that He would die or that He would lay down His life. He said that He would give up His body for us.\n\n(Lu 24:39-40) After His resurrection, Christ showed His apostles that He has not yet given up His body.\n\n(Isa 52:15; Mt 25:32) The Old Testament said the nations would be sprinkled; the New Testament said the nations would be separated.\n\n(Mt 13:24-30) In the parable of the enemy sowing tares, the wheat is to be separated from the tares.\n\n(Ro 8:1-10; Ro 8:23; 1 Co 15:42-44; 1 Co 2:14) The apostle Paul talked about flesh verses spirit, natural verses spiritual, carnally minded verses spiritually minded. Paul never talked about Christian verses heathen. Good verses evil is not one group of people verses another...it is a struggle within us. The apostle Paul talked about the \"inward man,\" about those who \"groan within ourselves.\"\n\n(1 Jo 3:9; 1 Jo 5:4) The spirit of God within the child of God is perfect and has lived up to the Law. The spirit of love within us is the true child of God.\n\nThis means that all who possess love for others are children of God and God will take care of them. This is not to mean that there is no punishment for sin. When the Bible talks about heaven and hell, it is often referring to the heaven and hell of this lifetime (often within us).\n\n\"Free will\" and predestination are both true and neither need be discarded from the Bible. God predetermined who would be born with His Spirit and who would be born without it. On the Day of Judgment both the body and spirit will be judged by works of the free will but only those who were born with the spirit of love have something inside themselves that has performed works worthy of eternal life.\n\nEvery interpretation of the Bible has verses that contradict it but this interpretation of the Bible is not contradicted by any verse nor does it require any verse be discarded. \"Free will\" and predestination are reconciled; \"The Law\" and \"Grace\" are both correct. We are not required to believe that Jesus is somehow responsible for our thoughts and actions or that a vengeful God is somehow satisfied by the blood of Christ.\n\nThe best thing about this interpretation of the Bible is the outcome. God will redeem all love and destroy all evil. God will not lose a single one of his children.\n\nThere is none good but God.\n\nTable of Contents\n\nBiblical Passages Concerning Redemption by Separation Part 1\n\nThere is one God. When Christ was born, God sent part of Himself into the world, into the body of Christ. This is why Christ is called \"Son of God\" and not \"Brother of God\". Christ is not a separate God; Christ is *the* God of Heaven. He is our Father and our Redeemer. The words that were spoken by Christ are the words of God Himself. The spirit of love within us came from God meaning it was created by God. The Spirit that came into the body of Christ was a piece of God Himself and Christ became a separate Being.\n\n_Jeremiah 1:5 Before I formed thee in the belly_ _I knew thee_ _; and before thou camest forth out of the womb I sanctified thee, and I ordained thee a prophet unto the nations._\n\nHusband and wife are said to \"know\" each other and by doing so they are said to be one flesh. God \"knew\" or was One with Christ before Christ was formed in the womb of Mary. Christ is our salvation because Christ overcame the world.\n\nJohn 16:33 These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.\n\nChrist overcame the presence of egocentric Satan and He was filled with compassion and love every moment He walked the Earth. Christ was perfect under the Law. Christ and only Christ lived up to the Law of God and deserved resurrection and eternal life under the Law. Christ returned to His Father to sit at the right hand of God and He is to be at the right hand of God until His enemies are made His footstool.\n\nPsalms 110:1 The LORD said unto my Lord, Sit thou at my right hand, until I make thine enemies thy footstool.\n\nThis relationship of Christ at the right hand of God is obviously not a permanent one. At the end of creation the Day of Judgment will arrive and the egocentric angels will be made His footstool. At that time the relationship of Christ at the right hand of God will come to an end. When that time comes Christ will have a new name.\n\nBoth the Old and New Testaments mention that the Lord will have a new name. In the Bible a name change marks a significant change in the person whose name is being changed as when Abram became Abraham or when Saul became Paul.\n\nRevelation 3:12 Him that overcometh will I make a pillar in the temple of my God, and he shall go no more out: and I will write upon him the name of my God, and the name of the city of my God, which is new Jerusalem, which cometh down out of heaven from my God: and I will write upon him my new name.\n\nIf Christ is to have a new name, if He is to go through some kind of transition at the end of creation, why is it that the apostle Paul stated Christ will never change?\n\nHebrews 13:8 Jesus Christ the same yesterday, and to day, and for ever.\n\nThe apostle Paul is admonishing the reader to remain faithful to the true gospel. This is demonstrated by the words of Paul immediately following his statement that Christ would never change.\n\nHebrews 13:9 Be not carried about with divers and strange doctrines. For it is a good thing that the heart be established with grace; not with meats, which have not profited them that have been occupied therein.\n\nIt is the gospel, the salvation of Christ that has never changed and never will and this becomes clear when the entire passage is read.\n\nMost of the references to the Lord receiving a new name at the end of creation are found in the book of Revelation. In the book of Revelation the Lord is called is \"Alpha and Omega\", and He is referred to as \"which is, and which was, and which is to come\".\n\n_Revelation 1:8 I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the ending, saith the Lord,_ _which is, and which was, and which is to come, the Almighty_ _._\n\n\"Which is, and which was, and which is to come\" is referring to the Almighty as it plainly states. This would be God the Father.\n\nRevelation 1:4 John to the seven churches which are in Asia: Grace be unto you, and peace, from him which is, and which was, and which is to come; and from the seven Spirits which are before his throne;\n\nIt is God the Father who is on the throne so when Revelation uses the words, \"which is, and which was, and which is to come\", it is talking about God the Father.\n\n_Revelation 1:8 I am Alpha_ _and Omega, the beginning and the ending, saith the Lord_ _, which is, and which was, and which is to come, the Almighty._\n\n\"Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the ending\" these descriptions are referring to the Lord, which is Christ the Lord.\n\nRevelation 1:11-13 Saying, I am Alpha and Omega, the first and the last: and, What thou seest, write in a book......being turned, I saw seven golden candlesticks; And in the midst of the seven candlesticks one like unto the Son of man, clothed with a garment down to the foot, and girt about the paps with a golden girdle.\n\nRevelation 1:17-18 And when I saw him, I fell at his feet as dead. And he laid his right hand upon me, saying unto me, Fear not; I am the first and the last: I am he that liveth, and was dead; and, behold, I am alive for evermore, Amen; and have the keys of hell and of death.\n\nChrist is the one who is called \"the Son of man\"; Christ is the one who was dead and is alive for evermore. It is Christ who is called \"the first and the last\", and He is called \"Alpha and Omega\", and He is called \"the beginning and the ending\".\n\nRevelation 21:6 And he said unto me, It is done. I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end. I will give unto him that is athirst of the fountain of the water of life freely.\n\nRevelation 22:12-13 And, behold, I come quickly; and my reward is with me, to give every man according as his work shall be. I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end, the first and the last.\n\nIsaiah 44:6 Thus saith the LORD the King of Israel, and his redeemer the LORD of hosts; I am the first, and I am the last; and beside me there is no God.\n\nIsaiah 48:12 Hearken unto me, O Jacob and Israel, my called; I am he; I am the first, I also am the last.\n\n\"Alpha and Omega\", \"the beginning and the end\", \"I am the first, and I am the last\", unlike the description of God these descriptions of Christ say nothing of the middle. This is because the middle is not exactly the same as the beginning and the end. There was a change to Christ during the middle, which is to say during creation. During creation Christ came into time and then put on flesh, He was resurrected, and He carried flesh back to Heaven with Him. During the middle He was different but it is the beginning and the end that are tied together. In the end Christ will be as He was at the beginning. The emphasis on the beginning and the end explains what the name change is all about. This is why He is said to have a new name; Christ will return to the Father and be one with God as He was before creation.\n\nIn the 21st Chapter of Revelation the Lord God proclaims that \"it is done\". This means that something very significant has occurred.\n\nRevelation 21:5-6 And he that sat upon the throne said, Behold, I make all things new. And he said unto me, Write: for these words are true and faithful. And he said unto me, It is done. I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end. I will give unto him that is athirst of the fountain of the water of life freely.\n\nAfter saying \"it is done\", God says, \"I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end\". These are words that had been used to describe Christ but not to describe God. The significant event which is being foretold here is Christ going back to God. God is actually using words to describe Himself that had been used only to describe Christ. It is as if God is calling Himself by the name of Christ. By using words that had been used to describe Christ, God is indicating that after this big event occurs, Christ is now God; and God is now Christ. They are once again united as One as they were before creation.\n\n_Zechariah 14:9 And the LORD shall be king over all the earth:_ _in that day shall there be one LORD_ _, and his name one._\n\nAt the end of creation Christ discards the fleshly body He carried back to Heaven; He goes back to God and again is One Being with God. What is fair for Christ is fair for everybody else. For when Christ receives a new name all of the children of God, all those with the spirit of God in their hearts, will be called by another name.\n\nIsaiah 65:15 And ye shall leave your name for a curse unto my chosen: for the Lord GOD shall slay thee, and call his servants by another name:\n\nThis is the separation of the righteous and the ungodly, the separation of the sheep and the goats; it is the separation of flesh and spirit. For while man was made flesh and spirit--one person, with this separation each child of God becomes two people.\n\nMatthew 25:32-34 And before him shall be gathered all nations: and he shall separate them one from another, as a shepherd divideth his sheep from the goats: And he shall set the sheep on his right hand, but the goats on the left. Then shall the King say unto them on his right hand, Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world:\n\nOnce the children of God are separated from their flesh their spirits are found worthy of eternal life in the complete fairness and justice of the Law of God. The spirit which is in the heart of God's children, which comes from God, is composed of love and does not sin. The spirit is often called a seed in the Bible. It is a seed of love planted by God in the hearts of His children. Like God, our spirit is perfect and once the selfish part of us is discarded we will have perfect love for God and for each other.\n\n1 John 3:9 Whosoever is born of God doth not commit sin; for his seed remaineth in him: and he cannot sin, because he is born of God.\n\nOur fleshly bodies are destroyed in Hell. Our ego or inner self will remain with our spirit not our flesh just as when the Messiah separates Himself from His flesh. If a person is not a child of God, if a person does not have a spirit of love, they have nothing in themselves worthy of eternal life and they are destroyed body and soul in Hell.\n\nChrist stated the necessity of separating the flesh from the spirit without which the whole person is not worthy of eternal life and is cast into the fire.\n\nMatthew 5:29-30 And if thy right eye offend thee, pluck it out, and cast it from thee: for it is profitable for thee that one of thy members should perish, and not that thy whole body should be cast into hell. And if thy right hand offend thee, cut it off, and cast it from thee: for it is profitable for thee that one of thy members should perish, and not that thy whole body should be cast into hell.\n\nIn this passage Christ is basically saying that if a being is part good and part evil, throw away the part that is evil and keep the part that is good.\n\nWith Christ it is no longer necessary to be perfect. As long as a person possesses something inside themselves which is love and which is perfect, that something can be separated from their flesh. That spirit, combined with the inner self, results in a person who is completely perfect.\n\n1 Corinthians 5:5 To deliver such an one unto Satan for the destruction of the flesh, that the spirit may be saved in the day of the Lord Jesus.\n\nThe spirit is unselfish love in the heart of all children of God. It comes from God. God is Love and all love comes from God. There is nothing a person can do to obtain that spirit. If a person does not already have that spirit they have no desire for it. To seek after God, to believe in Love, to feel compassion, these are evidence that the spirit is in the heart. It is put there by God when a child of God is born. By definition a child of God is someone who has this love in their heart. As long as we have love within us, we will have eternal life regardless of our religious beliefs and affiliations. It is the love within us which comes from God and is the true child of God. The love within us has committed no sin and deserves eternal life.\n\nTable of Contents\n\nBiblical Passages Concerning Redemption by Separation Part 2\n\nWhen the Bible talks of the righteous, the pure, those born of God, it is talking about the spirits inside the children of God. When the Bible talks about the wicked, the ungodly, it is often talking about the flesh including the flesh of the children of God.\n\nGrace is the separation of this spirit from the flesh, and water which cleans things is often used in the Bible to symbolize or represent Grace. When Moses was commanded by God to sacrifice a heifer, the heifer was symbolic of the Messiah; and the sacrifice was referred to as a water of separation.\n\n_Numbers 19:9 And a man that is clean shall gather up the ashes of the heifer, and lay them up without the camp in a clean place, and it shall be kept for the congregation of the children of Israel for a_ _water of separation_ _: it is a purification for sin._\n\nWe clean ourselves with water to remove earthly soil, to separate ourselves from lifeless dirt. This is what clean is and this is what water does when we wash ourselves in it. Water separates the living body from lifeless dirt and dead skin cells. When we wash ourselves we are removing dead flesh.\n\nGrace is called the water of life and it separates love, which is the spirit, from the flesh.\n\nEzekiel 16:9 Then washed I thee with water; yea, I throughly washed away thy blood from thee, and I anointed thee with oil.\n\nJohn 4:13-14 Jesus answered and said unto her, Whosoever drinketh of this water shall thirst again: But whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst; but the water that I shall give him shall be in him a well of water springing up into everlasting life.\n\nRevelation 22:17 And the Spirit and the bride say, Come. And let him that heareth say, Come. And let him that is athirst come. And whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely.\n\nWater represents many things in the Bible. In addition to being symbolic of Grace that cleans the spirit, water is also used in the Bible as symbolic of the spirit which is separated from the flesh. The spirit is called living water. Water is what remains if the dust and ashes are removed from the body just as the spirit is what remains once the flesh is removed.\n\nJohn 7:38-39 He that believeth on me, as the scripture hath said, out of his belly shall flow rivers of living water. (But this spake he of the Spirit, which they that believe on him should receive: for the Holy Ghost was not yet given; because that Jesus was not yet glorified.)\n\nJeremiah 17:13 O LORD, the hope of Israel, all that forsake thee shall be ashamed, and they that depart from me shall be written in the earth, because they have forsaken the LORD, the fountain of living waters.\n\nWhile the spirit is represented by water, the flesh is actually made primarily of water. In the Old Testament water was often separated from water. On the second day of creation God divided waters from waters.\n\n_Genesis 1:6-7 And God said, Let there be a firmament in the midst of the waters, and let it divide the waters from the waters. And God made the firmament, and divided the waters which were_ _under the firmament_ _from the waters which were_ _above the firmament_ _: and it was so._\n\nThe \"waters which were under the firmament\" are our fleshly bodies under Heaven. The \"waters which were above the firmament\" are the spirits in the children of God that came from above and God divided or separated these two waters. God also divided water from water when He delivered the children of Israel from bondage in Egypt.\n\nExodus 14:16 But lift thou up thy rod, and stretch out thine hand over the sea, and divide it: and the children of Israel shall go on dry ground through the midst of the sea.\n\nExodus 14:21 And Moses stretched out his hand over the sea; and the LORD caused the sea to go back by a strong east wind all that night, and made the sea dry land, and the waters were divided.\n\nWhen the children of Israel were delivered into the Promised Land it was accomplished by dividing waters from waters, this time the waters of the Jordan River.\n\n_Joshua 3:16-17 That the_ _waters which came down from above_ _stood and_ _rose up_ _upon an heap very far from the city Adam, that is beside Zaretan: and those that_ _came down_ _toward the sea of the plain, even the salt sea,_ _failed, and were cut off_ _: and the people passed over right against Jericho. And the priests that bare the ark of the covenant of the LORD stood firm on dry ground in the midst of Jordan, and all the Israelites passed over on dry ground, until all the people were passed clean over Jordan._\n\nWater was often separated from water in the Bible; and water, blood or oil was often sprinkled. To sprinkle blood or water is to separate it into smaller pieces. Sprinkling a liquid does not divide it into two pieces as in the separation of flesh and spirit; sprinkling a liquid divides it into many pieces but it is the nations that are sprinkled. All of the occasions in the Torah where blood, water or oil is sprinkled, it is symbolic of the Day of Judgment when the nations of Earth will be sprinkled.\n\nIsaiah 52:15 So shall he sprinkle many nations; the kings shall shut their mouths at him: for that which had not been told them shall they see; and that which they had not heard shall they consider.\n\nThis description of what happens on the Day of Judgment is repeated in the New Testament. Instead of being sprinkled, in the New Testament the nations are said to be separated.\n\nMatthew 25:32 And before him shall be gathered all nations: and he shall separate them one from another, as a shepherd divideth his sheep from the goats:\n\nThroughout much of the Torah, blood, water or oil is sprinkled. Blood was sprinkled round about the altar, upon the altar, before the Lord, upon the tent or before the veil.\n\nLeviticus 1:5 And he shall kill the bullock before the LORD: and the priests, Aaron's sons, shall bring the blood, and sprinkle the blood round about upon the altar that is by the door of the tabernacle of the congregation.\n\nLeviticus 3:2 And he shall lay his hand upon the head of his offering, and kill it at the door of the tabernacle of the congregation: and Aaron's sons the priests shall sprinkle the blood upon the altar round about.\n\nLeviticus 4:6 And the priest shall dip his finger in the blood, and sprinkle of the blood seven times before the LORD, before the vail of the sanctuary.\n\nThe blood of lambs was symbolic of the blood of Christ through which we are redeemed; the sprinkling of blood was symbolic of how the blood of Christ would provide redemption. The abundant references to sprinkling or separating do not mean separating one person from another person. It does not mean separating good people from bad people. Individuals are sprinkled and by being sprinkled they are made clean.\n\nNumbers 19:19 And the clean person shall sprinkle upon the unclean on the third day, and on the seventh day: and on the seventh day he shall purify himself, and wash his clothes, and bathe himself in water, and shall be clean at even.\n\nEzekiel 36:25 Then will I sprinkle clean water upon you, and ye shall be clean: from all your filthiness, and from all your idols, will I cleanse you.\n\nLeviticus 14:4-7 Then shall the priest command to take for him that is to be cleansed two birds alive and clean, and cedar wood, and scarlet, and hyssop: And the priest shall command that one of the birds be killed in an earthen vessel over running water: As for the living bird, he shall take it, and the cedar wood, and the scarlet, and the hyssop, and shall dip them and the living bird in the blood of the bird that was killed over the running water: And he shall sprinkle upon him that is to be cleansed from the leprosy seven times, and shall pronounce him clean, and shall let the living bird loose into the open field.\n\nThe ceremony that was used to cleanse someone with leprosy involved two birds. One bird was killed in an earthen vessel; a second bird, a living bird, was turned loose. The living bird that was turned loose represented the spirit in the child of God that is released from the flesh. The flesh was represented by the bird that was killed.\n\nBlood, water or oil was often sprinkled on a single individual for cleansing, but there were other times when blood was sprinkled before the veil. The veil stood between the people and Holy parts of the temple. Only the priest was allowed in the Holy places. The priest represented Christ the only one who overcame the Law and deserved resurrection to eternal Heaven. As far as the veil that stood between the people and the Holy, it was prophesied that the altar would be torn.\n\n1 Kings 13:2-3 And he cried against the altar in the word of the LORD, and said, O altar, altar, thus saith the LORD; Behold, a child shall be born unto the house of David, Josiah by name; and upon thee shall he offer the priests of the high places that burn incense upon thee, and men's bones shall be burnt upon thee. And he gave a sign the same day, saying, This is the sign which the LORD hath spoken; Behold, the altar shall be rent, and the ashes that are upon it shall be poured out.\n\nWhen Christ was crucified the veil was rent or torn in two. This tearing of the veil eliminated what stood between the people and the Holy just as the death of Christ eliminated what stood between the children of God and Heaven.\n\nMatthew 27:51 And, behold, the veil of the temple was rent in twain from the top to the bottom; and the earth did quake, and the rocks rent;\n\nThe veil is torn into two pieces just as Christ will separate Himself from His flesh. The rocks also rent just as the children of God will also be separated from their flesh.\n\nThe sprinkling of blood in the Torah is the sprinkling of humanity on the Day of Judgment but there were occasions in ancient ceremonies when blood was poured. When blood was poured some of it was placed on the horns of the altar and the remainder was poured at the bottom of the altar.\n\nExodus 29:12 And thou shalt take of the blood of the bullock, and put it upon the horns of the altar with thy finger, and pour all the blood beside the bottom of the altar.\n\nLeviticus 4:7 And the priest shall put some of the blood upon the horns of the altar of sweet incense before the LORD, which is in the tabernacle of the congregation; and shall pour all the blood of the bullock at the bottom of the altar of the burnt offering, which is at the door of the tabernacle of the congregation.\n\nThe horn of the altar where blood was placed with the finger is Christ. Zacharias, the father of John, called Christ the \"horn of salvation\".\n\nLuke 1:67-69 And his father Zacharias was filled with the Holy Ghost, and prophesied, saying, Blessed be the Lord God of Israel; for he hath visited and redeemed his people, And hath raised up an horn of salvation for us in the house of his servant David;\n\nPsalms 18:2 The LORD is my rock, and my fortress, and my deliverer; my God, my strength, in whom I will trust; my buckler, and the horn of my salvation, and my high tower.\n\nThe \"bottom of the altar\" is the Earth. The pouring of blood in ancient ceremonies represents the shedding of the blood of Christ in the Earth. The \"bottom of the altar\" \"is at the door of the tabernacle\". Christ stated that He is the door and the blood was always poured \"at the door of the tabernacle\".\n\nJohn 10:9 I am the door: by me if any man enter in, he shall be saved, and shall go in and out, and find pasture.\n\nThis pouring of blood is the sacrificing of the Messiah. Grace is represented by water but while the plan of salvation is represented by water providing that water required blood. It required someone live up to the Law and defeat death. That someone was the Messiah.\n\nJohn 19:34 But one of the soldiers with a spear pierced his side, and forthwith came there out blood and water.\n\n1 John 5:6 This is he that came by water and blood, even Jesus Christ; not by water only, but by water and blood. And it is the Spirit that beareth witness, because the Spirit is truth.\n\nZechariah 9:11 As for thee also, by the blood of thy covenant I have sent forth thy prisoners out of the pit wherein is no water.\n\nWithout the death and resurrection of Christ the pit of death would have no water which is to say it would have no way to wash or purify the soul. Christ was perfect and under the Law He deserved eternal life. His life had to taken. By the Law of God, Christ would have never died of natural causes or disease. God had to look away and forsake Christ. The death of Christ was inconsistent with the Law of God.\n\nPsalms 22:1 My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me? why art thou so far from helping me, and from the words of my roaring?\n\nMatthew 27:46 And about the ninth hour Jesus cried with a loud voice, saying, Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani? that is to say, My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?\n\nThis absence from God was one thing that Christ feared. Death is not to be feared. The worst, the most fearful condition to be in is to be apart from the Great Loving God. Absence from God is a condition we will never experience. We can leave God, we can leave and not observe the commandments of God, we can even deny the existence of God but God will never leave nor forsake a single one of His children. God watches over those who have love in their heart even in death.\n\nIsaiah 41:17 When the poor and needy seek water, and there is none, and their tongue faileth for thirst, I the LORD will hear them, I the God of Israel will not forsake them.\n\nMatthew 28:20 Teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you: and, lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world. Amen.\n\nChrist prayed that \"this cup\", this absence from God be removed but the answer to Christ was when the disciples fell asleep. The strength of the disciples had failed them just as the strength of all humanity has failed and we will sleep forever in death if not for the Grace of Christ.\n\nChrist had to be killed then justly resurrected from the dead only then He could discard the flesh He wore on Earth and fairly provide the same treatment for all of God's children. So not only is the spirit (love) in ones' heart essential for one to have eternal life, the water which is the separation of flesh from the spirit is also essential. This means the blood of Christ is essential as well.\n\n1 John 5:8 And there are three that bear witness in earth, the Spirit, and the water, and the blood: and these three agree in one.\n\nLeviticus 17:11 For the life of the flesh is in the blood: and I have given it to you upon the altar to make an atonement for your souls: for it is the blood that maketh an atonement for the soul.\n\nMatthew 26:28 For this is my blood of the new testament, which is shed for many for the remission of sins.\n\nHebrews 9:22 And almost all things are by the law purged with blood; and without shedding of blood is no remission.\n\nTable of Contents\n\nBiblical Passages Concerning Redemption by Separation Part 3\n\nThe Biblical references to redemption by separation are abundant. There is the sprinkling of blood, the tearing of the veil, the separation of waters from waters that delivered the Israelites into the Promised Land but these are just the beginning.\n\nAt the actual beginning, on the very first day of creation, God divided the light from the darkness:\n\nGenesis 1:4 And God saw the light, that it was good: and God divided the light from the darkness.\n\nAfter dividing the waters from the waters on the second day, on the third day God gathered the water together separating it from the land:\n\nGenesis 1:9-10 And God said, Let the waters under the heaven be gathered together unto one place, and let the dry land appear: and it was so. And God called the dry land Earth; and the gathering together of the waters called he Seas: and God saw that it was good.\n\nOn the fourth day God divided the day from the night.\n\nGenesis 1:17-18 And God set them in the firmament of the heaven to give light upon the earth, And to rule over the day and over the night, and to divide the light from the darkness: and God saw that it was good.\n\nWhen Elijah went up by a whirlwind to heaven, symbolic of the resurrection, Elisha tore his clothes in half.\n\n2 Kings 2:11-12 And it came to pass, as they still went on, and talked, that, behold, there appeared a chariot of fire, and horses of fire, and parted them both asunder; and Elijah went up by a whirlwind into heaven. And Elisha saw it, and he cried, My father, my father, the chariot of Israel, and the horsemen thereof. And he saw him no more: and he took hold of his own clothes, and rent them in two pieces.\n\nIn the Passover the Jews were separated from the Egyptians. Israel as a nation was born in bondage; Israel was bonded to or a part of Egypt. The Israelites represented the spirit and the Egyptians represented the flesh in which the spirit is contained. By the Passover, Israel was set free. It was because of the blood of a sacrificed lamb that the Israelites were \"passed over\" by death just as the spirits in the children of God will escape death due to the sacrifice of the Messiah.\n\nExodus 12:12-13 For I will pass through the land of Egypt this night, and will smite all the firstborn in the land of Egypt, both man and beast; and against all the gods of Egypt I will execute judgment: I am the LORD. And the blood shall be to you for a token upon the houses where ye are: and when I see the blood, I will pass over you, and the plague shall not be upon you to destroy you, when I smite the land of Egypt.\n\nWhen the waters of the Red sea were parted all the Israelites survived and all the Egyptians were destroyed. God will not lose a single one of His children.\n\nExodus 14:28-29 And the waters returned, and covered the chariots, and the horsemen, and all the host of Pharaoh that came into the sea after them; there remained not so much as one of them. But the children of Israel walked upon dry land in the midst of the sea; and the waters were a wall unto them on their right hand, and on their left.\n\nYet another indication of Grace by separation was the \"vow of separation\". A person who took this vow was called a Nazarite.\n\nNumbers 6:5-8 All the days of the vow of his separation there shall no razor come upon his head: until the days be fulfilled, in the which he separateth himself unto the LORD, he shall be holy, and shall let the locks of the hair of his head grow. All the days that he separateth himself unto the LORD he shall come at no dead body. He shall not make himself unclean for his father, or for his mother, for his brother, or for his sister, when they die: because the consecration of his God is upon his head. All the days of his separation he is holy unto the LORD.\n\nNumbers 6:18 And the Nazarite shall shave the head of his separation at the door of the tabernacle of the congregation, and shall take the hair of the head of his separation, and put it in the fire which is under the sacrifice of the peace offerings.\n\nA Nazarite is a representation of the spirit inside the child of God. A Nazarite must separate himself from dead flesh; they do not go near a dead body. The hair on the head of the Nazarite is shaved and burned in the fire just as the flesh is thrown in the fire after it is separated from the spirit.\n\nYet another way in which the Bible reveals the plan of salvation is circumcision which is when part of a person is removed.\n\nGenesis 17:10-11 This is my covenant, which ye shall keep, between me and you and thy seed after thee; Every man child among you shall be circumcised. And ye shall circumcise the flesh of your foreskin; and it shall be a token of the covenant betwixt me and you.\n\nColossians 2:11 In whom also ye are circumcised with the circumcision made without hands, in putting off the body of the sins of the flesh by the circumcision of Christ:\n\nThe apostle Paul referred to salvation as the \"circumcision of Christ\". Not only is the flesh of the foreskin removed, the circumcision of Christ is said to put off the body. The body it puts off is called the body \"Of the sins of the flesh\".\n\nWhether it be circumcision, the Passover, or Nazarites, whether it be separating water from water or the sprinkling of blood--purification by separation is a dominate theme throughout the Old Testament. Most organized Christian religions have always believed that all of this purification by separation means separating good people from bad people, or they believe it means separating us from our sin while retaining our flesh. Yet no words or actions can relieve the flesh of its responsibility for sin so that the flesh deserves unlimited joy and eternal life. The flesh is guilty and God can not overlook our sins while holding Satan accountable.\n\n1 Corinthians 15:50 Now this I say, brethren, that flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God; neither doth corruption inherit incorruption.\n\nGalatians 5:19-23 Now the works of the flesh are manifest, which are these; Adultery, fornication, uncleanness, lasciviousness, Idolatry, witchcraft, hatred, variance, emulations, wrath, strife, seditions, heresies, Envyings, murders, drunkenness, revellings, and such like: of the which I tell you before, as I have also told you in time past, that they which do such things shall not inherit the kingdom of God. But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, Meekness, temperance: against such there is no law.\n\nChrist said He would give up His body.\n\nLuke 22:19 And he took bread, and gave thanks, and brake it, and gave unto them, saying, This is my body which is given for you: this do in remembrance of me.\n\nAfter His resurrection Christ showed His disciples He still had His fleshly body.\n\nLuke 24:39-40 Behold my hands and my feet, that it is I myself: handle me, and see; for a spirit hath not flesh and bones, as ye see me have. And when he had thus spoken, he shewed them his hands and his feet.\n\nChrist keeps His word which means at some point He will give up His body. Then it will be fair for us to give up our bodies. Separated from our flesh, we will be spirit beings in Heaven. We will be like angels. This should not be frightening since it is quiet a promotion. The spirit world is virtually unknown to us but it is a higher level of reality than the physical universe. We will have a \"new body\" but it will be a great improvement over what we have now.\n\nLuke 20:35-36 But they which shall be accounted worthy to obtain that world, and the resurrection from the dead, neither marry, nor are given in marriage: Neither can they die any more: for they are equal unto the angels; and are the children of God, being the children of the resurrection.\n\nRomans 8:29 For whom he did foreknow, he also did predestinate to be conformed to the image of his Son, that he might be the firstborn among many brethren.\n\nThe flesh is said to rest in hope but that does not mean the flesh will have eternal life or even has any hope of eternal life. The Bible often talks of the \"hope\" of the resurrection.\n\nPsalms 16:9 Therefore my heart is glad, and my glory rejoiceth: my flesh also shall rest in hope.\n\nTitus 1:2 In hope of eternal life, which God, that cannot lie, promised before the world began;\n\nLamentations 3:26 It is good that a man should both hope and quietly wait for the salvation of the LORD.\n\nPaul talks about the \"redemption of our body\"; but he is talking about those who are the children of God, who have, \"the firstfruits of the Spirit\" (those who have love). Paul is talking about the child of God but he is not referring to the entire child of God; he is only referring to those who \"groan within ourselves\".\n\n_Romans 8:23 And not only they, but ourselves also, which have the firstfruits of the Spirit, even we ourselves groan_ _within ourselves_ _, waiting for the adoption, to wit, the redemption of our body._\n\nPaul is talking about the spirit \"within\" the child of God. The \"we\" who are redeemed are those who \"groan within\". \"The redemption of our body\" is referring to the spirit or the spiritual body that is within the child of God.\n\n1 Corinthians 15:42-44 So also is the resurrection of the dead. It is sown in corruption; it is raised in incorruption: It is sown in dishonour; it is raised in glory: it is sown in weakness; it is raised in power: It is sown a natural body; it is raised a spiritual body. There is a natural body, and there is a spiritual body.\n\nThe apostle Paul often wrote of the spirit and the flesh. His words seemed to indicate that those who follow the Spirit are the children of God and those who follow the flesh are bound for destruction. This is true but Paul is not always referring to two different groups of people. Often he is referring to the two different people in each child of God. Paul often talks of the spirit and the flesh that make up one person as if they are two different people because with the Grace of Christ they are two different people.\n\nRomans 8:1 There is therefore now no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus, who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit.\n\nIt is not true that Christians always walk after the Spirit while atheists always walk after the flesh. Christians will sin and walk after the flesh. Most atheists have compassion for others. This means they have a spirit and when they act on that spirit they are walking after the Spirit. It is the spirit itself within the child of God that always walks after the Spirit even the spirit within an atheist. The spirit within us cannot sin for it is love whether it be in a Christian or in an atheist. Likewise, in both groups, the flesh always walks after the flesh and is not capable of true righteousness.\n\nTo understand the writings of Paul, understand that good versus evil is not one group of people versus another group of people; it is not us against them. Paul talks of spirit against flesh not Christian against heathen. There is good and evil within all the children of God in all nations and religions. This good versus evil is the flesh against the spirit; this is the good and evil that is separated on the Day of Judgment. To understand the writings of Paul always try to determine if he is talking about two different people or if he is talking about the spirit and flesh, the two different bodies in each child of God.\n\nRomans 8:5-6 For they that are after the flesh do mind the things of the flesh; but they that are after the Spirit the things of the Spirit. For to be carnally minded is death; but to be spiritually minded is life and peace.\n\nIn this passage Paul is not talking about two different groups of people. \"They that are after the flesh\" and \"they that are after the Spirit\" are the same people. Each child of God contains both a natural mind and a spiritual mind. For the carnal mind is death but for the spiritual mind is life. Paul said he himself sometimes followed the flesh; even he was both spiritual and carnal.\n\nRomans 7:17-24 Now then it is no more I that do it, but sin that dwelleth in me. For I know that in me (that is, in my flesh,) dwelleth no good thing: for to will is present with me; but how to perform that which is good I find not. For the good that I would I do not: but the evil which I would not, that I do. Now if I do that I would not, it is no more I that do it, but sin that dwelleth in me. I find then a law, that, when I would do good, evil is present with me. For I delight in the law of God after the inward man: But I see another law in my members, warring against the law of my mind, and bringing me into captivity to the law of sin which is in my members. O wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me from the body of this death?\n\nIf we feel love, if we perform charity, if we do any good thing, it comes from our spiritual body. If we behave selfishly it comes from our natural body. The natural man, which is our physical body, is not capable of righteousness. This is true of all flesh, whether it be the flesh of the child of God or the flesh of someone who is not a child of God. Someone who is not a child of God is only flesh and does not have a spirit of love and cannot therefore please God.\n\nRomans 8:8 So then they that are in the flesh cannot please God.\n\n1 Corinthians 2:14 But the natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God: for they are foolishness unto him: neither can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned.\n\nThose of us who are children of God and are honest will admit that we are currently both spirit and flesh and we follow both the Spirit and the flesh. Sometimes we are good and compassionate and sometimes we are selfish or self-righteous. Within each of us, the spirit always follows the Spirit, and the flesh always follows the flesh.\n\nRomans 8:3-4 For what the law could not do, in that it was weak through the flesh, God sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh, and for sin, condemned sin in the flesh: That the righteousness of the law might be fulfilled in us, who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit.\n\nPaul said, \"For what the law could not do, in that it was weak through the flesh\" meaning the Law could not provide righteousness. Satan manipulated the flesh to destroy the children of God including the spirits inside the children of God. Satan made the Law unrighteous in that the spirits of love would have to be destroyed under the Law. Christ fulfilled \"the righteousness of the law\" by making the Law just in that the Law does not destroy the spirit. With the Grace of Christ the spirit is judged separately from the flesh.\n\nThe spirit in the child of God comes from God. The spirit is love and all love comes from God. The spirit walks after the Spirit and is bound for life but the flesh walks after the flesh and is bound for death. If we commit both sin and righteousness, if we posses both flesh and spirit then we are bound for both death and life. We must each become two people for this to be possible.\n\nRomans 8:10 And if Christ be in you, the body is dead because of sin; but the Spirit is life because of righteousness.\n\nEven those who have lived and died without ever hearing the word \"Jesus\", even those who do not believe in God will live again in the kingdom of Heaven if the Love of God is in their heart. Because of Christ all of the children of God (spirits of love) in all nations and religions will fairly deserve eternal life.\n\nTable of Contents\n\nBiblical Passages Concerning Justice before the Day of Judgment\n\nHeaven, we read in the Bible, is obtained by good works which means we need to do good things in order to go to heaven. Our \"works\" are the things we do, the decisions we make of our own \"free will\". Supposedly we go to heaven or not based on the good things that we have done verses the bad things that we have done. The Bible also claims that we cannot make it to heaven by doing good things; we must repent. In some verses the Bible suggests that repentance is not enough; we must repent and be baptized. This same Bible also states that God determined who would go to Heaven before He created the world. This suggests that the decision is out of our hands.\n\nJohn 3:16 For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.\n\nActs 22:16 And now why tarriest thou? arise, and be baptized, and wash away thy sins, calling on the name of the Lord.\n\nJames 2:20 But wilt thou know, O vain man, that faith without works is dead?\n\nLuke 3:9 And now also the axe is laid unto the root of the trees: every tree therefore which bringeth not forth good fruit is hewn down, and cast into the fire.\n\nPsalms 62:12 Also unto thee, O Lord, belongeth mercy: for thou renderest to every man according to his work.\n\nRevelation 20:12 And I saw the dead, small and great, stand before God; and the books were opened: and another book was opened, which is the book of life: and the dead were judged out of those things which were written in the books, according to their works.\n\nEphesians 2:8-9 For by grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God: Not of works, lest any man should boast.\n\nJohn 6:44 No man can come to me, except the Father which hath sent me draw him: and I will raise him up at the last day.\n\nRomans 8:29-30 For whom he did foreknow, he also did predestinate to be conformed to the image of his Son, that he might be the firstborn among many brethren. Moreover whom he did predestinate, them he also called: and whom he called, them he also justified: and whom he justified, them he also glorified.\n\nFew question that we do possess some definition of free will but the question is do we make it to Heaven based on our own words and actions, which is called free will or was our eternal destiny pre-determined by God which is called predestination? The Bible seems to claim that both are true. If we do make it to Heaven based on our own words and actions, what words and actions are necessary since the requirements seem to vary from one passage to the next.\n\nRomans 11:6 And if by grace, then is it no more of works: otherwise grace is no more grace. But if it be of works, then is it no more grace: otherwise work is no more work.\n\nUnraveling this riddle is a simple matter. What is really amazing is that this is the same riddle used in the Old Testament which the Christians have already solved.\n\nThe Old Testament stated the Messiah would come humbly as a lamb.\n\nIsaiah 53:4-7 Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted. But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the LORD hath laid on him the iniquity of us all. He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth: he is brought as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is dumb, so he openeth not his mouth.\n\nThe Old Testament also stated the Messiah would come in great glory and power.\n\nIsaiah 66:15-16 For, behold, the LORD will come with fire, and with his chariots like a whirlwind, to render his anger with fury, and his rebuke with flames of fire. For by fire and by his sword will the LORD plead with all flesh: and the slain of the LORD shall be many.\n\nAt the time of Christ many people were expecting a powerful Messiah who would destroy the Romans and establish the kingdom of God in the Earth. The crucifixion of Christ fulfilled what the Christians realize was His first coming. Because Christians realize that by describing the coming of the Messiah as if it is two different comings, the Bible is stating clearly, even if not literally, that the Messiah will come twice. The Bible also appears to contradict itself as for as how we get to Heaven.\n\nThis is a very simple riddle. If a description of something sounds contradictory as if it is a description of two or more different things, perhaps it is a description of two or more different things. If someone says they drive a white van and they also say they drive a red sedan we should be able to easily reason they own two vehicles.\n\nLuke 10:21 In that hour Jesus rejoiced in spirit, and said, I thank thee, O Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that thou hast hid these things from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them unto babes: even so, Father; for so it seemed good in thy sight.\n\nIf the entire Bible is considers, if nothing is discarded or redefined we notice in the Bible what appears to be a contradiction. If we acknowledge God is consistent and He does not lie nor contradict Himself then what appears to be a contradiction, what appear to give conflicting testimony, must be testifying of two or more different things.\n\nThere must be two or more heavens and two or more hells.\n\nHeaven and Hell have traditionally been thought of as eternal destinations determined on the Day of Judgment. This is true, but this is only part of the story. On the Day of Judgment the eternal Hell will destroy all evil. This fire at the end of creation destroys all who are less than perfect and are not worthy of eternal life. The Day of Judgment will result in a Heaven were all love each other without hostility or prejudice of any kind. Thanks to Christ only our flesh fails on the Day of Judgment, at least for those who have the spirit in their hearts and are children of God. Once separated from the flesh the spirit in the child of God is perfect and it fairly enters eternal Heaven.\n\nWe enter eternal Heaven on the Day of Judgment but there is another heaven and another hell and both take place before the Day of Judgment. Under the Law of God all are punished for their sins and rewarded for their righteousness. The punishment to be rendered is an eye for eye and a tooth for tooth. This implies limited punishment for limited sin and limited reward for limited righteousness. Without the Grace of Christ we cannot be given eternal reward because we do not deserve it yet we do deserve limited punishment and limited reward. Here in this world we are rewarded with joy for the love we give and we are punished for our hostility and selfishness.\n\nPsalms 86:13 For great is thy mercy toward me: and thou hast delivered my soul from the lowest hell.\n\nProverbs 23:14 Thou shalt beat him with the rod, and shalt deliver his soul from hell.\n\nJonah 2:2 And said, I cried by reason of mine affliction unto the LORD, and he heard me; out of the belly of hell cried I, and thou heardest my voice.\n\nThe righteous are said to be rescued from hell including Jonah who described time in the fish's belly as being in hell. Obviously there is a hell in this world. It may not be eternal torment but this hell is still something to be greatly avoided.\n\nMatthew 4:17 From that time Jesus began to preach, and to say, Repent: for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.\n\nLuke 17:20-21 And when he was demanded of the Pharisees, when the kingdom of God should come, he answered them and said, The kingdom of God cometh not with observation: Neither shall they say, Lo here! or, lo there! for, behold, the kingdom of God is within you.\n\nThere is a heaven or reward here in this world for love and acts of love. \"Repent: for the kingdom of heaven is at hand\". In other words the kingdom of heaven is right here, right now. The heaven or joy we receive in this lifetime is determined by the decisions we make of our own free will. The eternal Heaven, on the other hand, is provided by the Grace of Christ to all those who have the spirit of love in their hearts. God determined and foreknew to whom He would give a spirit of love which means God predestinated those who would enter the eternal Heaven.\n\nWe are saved from eternal death by Christ and nothing we have done, nothing we can do. We can save ourselves here in this life by good works including charity, repentance, and baptism. We can also save ourselves in this life by forgiveness to others. The Bible clearly uses the word \"saved\" to describe being saved from things here in this world.\n\nExodus 14:30 Thus the LORD saved Israel that day out of the hand of the Egyptians; and Israel saw the Egyptians dead upon the sea shore.\n\nActs 27:18-20 And we being exceedingly tossed with a tempest, the next day they lightened the ship; And the third day we cast out with our own hands the tackling of the ship. And when neither sun nor stars in many days appeared, and no small tempest lay on us, all hope that we should be saved was then taken away.\n\nThe apostle Paul uses the word saved many times. His writings are often quoted by those who believe they have saved themselves unto eternal Heaven by the decisions of their own free will. In the book of Romans the apostle Paul prayed for Israel to be saved.\n\nRomans 10:1 Brethren, my heart's desire and prayer to God for Israel is, that they might be saved.\n\nAccording to the apostle Paul, also in the book of Romans, those who confess the Lord Jesus will be saved and those who believe in Lord Jesus will be saved and those who call on the Lord will be saved.\n\nRomans 10:9 That if thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine heart that God hath raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved.\n\nRomans 10:13 For whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved.\n\nThese ways to be saved are found in the book of Romans. The apostle Paul had written this particular letter to people who lived in Rome. It was not written to everyone in Rome but only to the church in Rome. At the beginning of the book of Romans Paul declared to whom he was addressing this particular letter.\n\nRomans 1:7 To all that be in Rome, beloved of God, called to be saints: Grace to you and peace from God our Father, and the Lord Jesus Christ.\n\nThe entire book of Romans was a letter written to all the saints in Rome, those \"beloved of God, called to be saints\". The book of Romans was written to those whom Christ died for, to those who were already saved as far as eternal salvation. Paul cannot possibly be talking about eternal salvation. When Paul told the early Christians that they could be saved by calling on the name of the Lord this must be a different kind of \"saved\". (Saved from the Romans).\n\nJust as when Paul prayed that Israel might be saved he prayed for the nation of Israel to be saved from the Romans here in this world. As far as eternal Heaven is concerned the children of God in Israel are already saved not in spite of the death of Christ but because of it.\n\nLuke 13:1-5 There were present at that season some that told him of the Galilaeans, whose blood Pilate had mingled with their sacrifices. And Jesus answering said unto them, Suppose ye that these Galilaeans were sinners above all the Galilaeans, because they suffered such things? I tell you, Nay: but, except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish. Or those eighteen, upon whom the tower in Siloam fell, and slew them, think ye that they were sinners above all men that dwelt in Jerusalem? I tell you, Nay: but, except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish.\n\nWhen Christ said \"except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish\", He was talking about Galilaeans who had been killed, who were victims of a tragedy here in this world. He was also talking about eighteen people killed by a collapsed tower, another tragedy here in this world. These events had nothing to do with eternal judgment; they were deaths in this world that had occurred. Repentance saves a person from \"likewise\" perishing.\n\nDoes this mean when anything bad happens it must have happened because somebody sinned? No, as Christ said, the Galilaeans were not sinners above all the Galilaeans. The universe is governed by natural laws. Disasters and accidents normally have nothing to do with sin; they are the result of natural forces. Sometimes a tower will collapse and those who are standing in the wrong place at the wrong time will be crushed. If a person follows the commandments of Christ, God may intervene to save them when they are in the wrong place at the wrong time but punishment for sin normally has nothing to do with bad things that happen in the natural world.\n\nReward and punishment do not necessarily have anything to do with the world view of success and failure. The reward for righteousness is joy, not fame or fortune or even longevity. The punishment for sin is not poverty or disaster. Sometimes a person who appears to be very successful has great sadness yet among the hobos that people look down on, we may find the happiest among us. We cannot know how much pain or joy another person has experienced.\n\nThe victims of the holocaust experienced suffering greater than their sins but we cannot know how much pain they actually endured. God was with them as God was with the early Christians persecuted by Rome. God gives His children the strength to endure what seems unendurable. He has been with the survivors of the holocaust ever since it occurred.\n\nIt is not necessary for us to know and understand the \"mathematical formula\" of judgment but we can have faith that God is Just and God is all knowing. God knows the heart and the pain of the other guy which is something we cannot see. We can have faith that with God there is justice. There has always been justice and there always will be.\n\nIt may sound hard to believe that there always has been justice. It has long been wondered why evil people prosper at the expense of the righteous. Sometimes an evil person can seem to be successful. Imagine a very greedy man who accumulates great wealth, who is able to take the meager possessions of the poor and continually add to his wealth. Does God execute justice or do evil people really prosper?\n\nThe problem is that our definition of success comes from a very worldly or material view, a view not unlike Satan's view of success or greatness. We think of success as having a good job or achieving wealth or fame. Real success can be nothing more than how much happiness, joy and love a person experiences in whatever amount of time they live. Not physical pleasure which is generally balanced with pain but joy and happiness that only comes from the heart.\n\nThe greedy rich man has a great thirst for wealth and that thirst will never be quenched with gold. His emptiness will never be filled with money. This is why he continually wants more. Unless and until he can overcome the greed, he will always have emptiness and he will always be miserable. One can imagine the countenance of such a man to be sour and reflect unhappiness.\n\nThere can also be punishment or reward after death but before the Judgment. This justice is sometimes called purgatory for the wicked and the joyous communion of saints for the righteous. One way or another, under God there will be perfect and complete justice before the Day of Judgment just as there will be complete justice on the Day of Judgment.\n\nIt is recorded in the Bible that there is nothing a person can do to get to Heaven and this is the eternal Heaven provided to us by free Grace. It is also recorded in the Bible that a person must do good works and there is a heaven, there is a joy in doing good works as in the joy that comes with charity. It is recorded in the Bible that a person must repent and there is a heaven in this life for repentance and prayer.\n\nLuke 9:60 Jesus said unto him, Let the dead bury their dead: but go thou and preach the kingdom of God.\n\nThis heaven is for those who are alive, not the dead. One may become total confused when reading prophecies but the passages which deal with Heaven and judgment are easy to understand. There is no contradiction or confusion at all. The Bible makes perfect sense; you simple have to determine to which Heaven or to which Hell a particular verse is referring.\n\nTable of Contents\n\nBiblical Passages Concerning Prayer\n\n_John 14:12-14 Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that believeth on me, the works that I do shall he do also; and greater works than these shall he do; because I go unto my Father. And whatsoever ye shall ask in my name, that will I do, that the Father may be glorified in the Son. If ye shall ask any thing in my name, I will do it._\n\nChrist stated very clearly that prayer is answered but one must pray in the name of the Lord. Looking at the Bible we see the Lord has many names. In which name are we to pray?\n\nExodus 6:3 And I appeared unto Abraham, unto Isaac, and unto Jacob, by the name of God Almighty, but by my name JEHOVAH was I not known to them.\n\nExodus 3:14 And God said unto Moses, I AM THAT I AM: and he said, Thus shalt thou say unto the children of Israel, I AM hath sent me unto you.\n\nMatthew 1:23 Behold, a virgin shall be with child, and shall bring forth a son, and they shall call his name Emmanuel, which being interpreted is, God with us.\n\nMatthew 1:21 And she shall bring forth a son, and thou shalt call his name JESUS: for he shall save his people from their sins.\n\nJohn 1:1 In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.\n\nPraying in the name of the Lord does not mean praying in any particular name or title of the Lord. It does not mean ending prayers with the phrase \"In the name of the Lord we pray\". We think of doing something in someone's name as doing it in their honor but biblically speaking a person's name is very significant.\n\nGenesis 16:11 And the angel of the LORD said unto her, Behold, thou art with child, and shalt bear a son, and shalt call his name Ishmael; because the LORD hath heard thy affliction.\n\nGenesis 17:5 Neither shall thy name any more be called Abram, but thy name shall be Abraham; for a father of many nations have I made thee.\n\nGenesis 17:15 And God said unto Abraham, As for Sarai thy wife, thou shalt not call her name Sarai, but Sarah shall her name be.\n\nGenesis 32:28 And he said, Thy name shall be called no more Jacob, but Israel: for as a prince hast thou power with God and with men, and hast prevailed.\n\nJohn 1:42 And he brought him to Jesus. And when Jesus beheld him, he said, Thou art Simon the son of Jona: thou shalt be called Cephas, which is by interpretation, A stone.\n\nA person's name is part of the person it represents. This is why a person's name changes when the person it represents changes. This is why Abram's name was changed to Abraham, and Saul's name was changed to Paul. Praying in the \"name\" of the Lord means more than praying in God's honor. A person's name is the essence of who they are.\n\nA person's name is inseparable from the person it represents.\n\nJohn 1:11-13 He came unto his own, and his own received him not. But as many as received him, to them gave he power to become the sons of God, even to them that believe on his name: Which were born, not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God.\n\nThose who believe on His name are said to be born, \"not of the will of the flesh\", but were born \"of God\". It is the spirit in the heart of the child of God that is born of God; the flesh is born of flesh.\n\nJohn 3:6 That which is born of the flesh is flesh; and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit.\n\nThe spirit is born of God so the spirit of compassion we feel in our heart believes in the name of the Lord. Yet, many good people have lived and died without ever hearing the name \"Jesus\". How can it be said their spirits believed in His name? Did they believe in the name \"Jesus\" or the name \"YHWH\" having never heard these words?\n\nIt could have been written \"even to them that believe on the name Jesus\", but it was not. It could have been written \"even to them that believe on the name YHWH\", but it was not. Instead it is written \"even to them that believe on His name\". In other words we must believe in the generic or nonspecific \"Name of the Lord\". A name is something that represents who and what a person is. It is not necessary to believe in any particular name or title of the Lord; we must believe in the essence of God. God is Love.\n\n1 John 4:16 And we have known and believed the love that God hath to us. God is love; and he that dwelleth in love dwelleth in God, and God in him.\n\nThe spirit in the child of God does indeed believe in Love; it believes in the name of God. It believes in the essence of God even if the person who possesses that spirit never heard the word \"YHWH\". Even if the person who possesses that spirit does not believe in God their spirit still believes in the Name of God. Like God, the spirit in the heart of the child of God is love. The spirits in the hearts of the children of God are called by \"His name\" (love) and they are created by Him for His glory.\n\nIsaiah 43:7 Even every one that is called by my name: for I have created him for my glory, I have formed him; yea, I have made him.\n\nGod is Love; Christ is Love. If we believe in love, we believe in the name of God. Our prayers are answered when we pray in His name which means we receive what we ask of God if we make the request while our heart is full of Love.\n\nJohn 17:26 And I have declared unto them thy name, and will declare it: that the love wherewith thou hast loved me may be in them, and I in them\n\nChrist declared the name of the Lord to His apostles but He did not simple tell them that God's name is YHWH. Christ declared the name of the Lord \"that the love wherewith thou hast loved me may be in them\". By having this love in their hearts the apostles had the name of the Lord. The essence of God is Love; the \"name\" of God is Love. Not merely the word love but rather a strong feeling of love and compassion; that feeling itself is the \"name (or essence) of God\".\n\nJohn 14:14-15 If ye shall ask any thing in my name, I will do it. If ye love me, keep my commandments.\n\nThe verse that says \"If ye shall ask any thing in my name, I will do it\" is followed by the words \"If ye love me, keep my commandments\". Asking something in the Lord's name requires keeping His commandments. Asking something in the Lord's name *is* keeping His commandments. His commandments are to Love God and love one another. When we pray while following these commandments we are praying in His name.\n\nWe must follow His commandments while praying, we must be filled with this love while praying; otherwise we are not praying in His name. God is the absolute perfection of Infinite Love, Mercy and Compassion. When we feel His Love, we are calling His name; when we believe in His Love, we believe in His name; when we ask in His Love, we are asking in His name.\n\nJohn 14:14 If ye shall ask any thing in my name, I will do it.\n\n1 John 3:22-23 And whatsoever we ask, we receive of him, because we keep his commandments, and do those things that are pleasing in his sight. And this is his commandment, That we should believe on the name of his Son Jesus Christ, and love one another, as he gave us commandment.\n\nIn one verse it is written we receive what we ask when we ask in His name. In another verse it is written we receive what we ask because we keep His commandments. To keep His commandments, to love God, to love and forgive others, is asking in His name.\n\nPrayer must include great love for God, pure love and forgiveness for all His children and genuine repentance for one's own shortcomings.\n\nPsalms 34:18 The LORD is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart; and saveth such as be of a contrite spirit.\n\nAll of the children of God are sinners and less than perfect and prayer should always include repentance. It always includes praise to the Lord who died for us while we were yet sinners, who gave us life and has provided for us eternal life even though we do not deserve it.\n\nMatthew 4:6-7 And saith unto him, If thou be the Son of God, cast thyself down: for it is written, He shall give his angels charge concerning thee: and in their hands they shall bear thee up, lest at any time thou dash thy foot against a stone. Jesus said unto him, It is written again, Thou shalt not tempt the Lord thy God.\n\nPrayer is not to be used to test God. It is not to be used to prove or disprove the existence of God. Do not entertain the notion of trying to fool God.\n\nWe are not to ask God for what we can do ourselves. If someone is sick, take them to the doctor. Should a farmer leave his seed in the barn and ask God to magically put food on the table? God gave most of us the ability to provide for ourselves and we are to use the two hands God gave us.\n\nPray for world peace but do not expect such a prayer to be answered. Pray for your brother to have a good marriage with his wife but do not blame God should they divorce. If you want your brother and his wife to stay together, talk to your brother and his wife. If you want world peace talk to the people of the world.\n\nMark 9:28-29 And when he was come into the house, his disciples asked him privately, Why could not we cast him out? And he said unto them, This kind can come forth by nothing, but by prayer and fasting.\n\nDo not expect prayer to be answered immediately. When asking for something great, be patient. Have faith and continue to pray daily. Fasting is giving up food, but a true fast is when we give up sin and live by the commandments of Christ.\n\nPsalms 37:4-5 Delight thyself also in the LORD; and he shall give thee the desires of thine heart. Commit thy way unto the LORD; trust also in him; and he shall bring it to pass.\n\nThe first and foremost thing in all prayer is to praise God. This is the first commandment of Moses and the first commandment of Christ. There is nothing more important than to Love God with all your heart and all your soul. When Christ taught His disciples how to pray the guideline He gave them began and ended with praise to God.\n\nWith God there is Justice and only Love will have eternal life. With God there is Mercy and He condemns no one. He even died for us in order for our souls to be resurrected to eternal life. With God there is Love and this great Love God has for us is beyond our ability to express and beyond our ability to comprehend. We should always pray that, \"Thy will be done\", because the will of God is Love, Mercy, and Justice.\n\nPrayer is answered but prayer not only means being filled with Love, forgiveness and repentance; it also means loving God with all your being. True prayer means believing in the absolute Righteousness of God and fully supporting the will of God. We pray that \"Thy will be done\" because we fully understand that the will of God is infinitely Righteous. If a man's wife is dying of cancer he should pray in this manner, \"My God and my Savior, if it be in Your will to heal my wife then I will praise You but if it be Your will that she die of this disease then I will praise You. It is Your will that I exist and have life; it is Your will that my wife exists. It is Your will we be resurrected to eternal life. Whatever happens to my wife and me in this world, I know that You love my wife more than I do and You will always take care of her. You will set all things straight. Your will be done. We praise Your great Name\". Such a prayer if expressed and genuinely understood will be answered.\n\nPsalms 9:2 I will be glad and rejoice in thee: I will sing praise to thy name, O thou most High.\n\nPsalms 86:12 I will praise thee, O Lord my God, with all my heart: and I will glorify thy name for evermore.\n\nPsalms 135:3 Praise the LORD; for the LORD is good: sing praises unto his name; for it is pleasant.\n\nPsalms 148:13 Let them praise the name of the LORD: for his name alone is excellent; his glory is above the earth and heaven.\n\nWe are told to praise the Name of God meaning we are to praise the essence of God. God is Love; to praise God is to praise Love; to worship God is to worship Love. God is worthy of praise.\n\nThe greatest truth that can be spoken is that God is worthy of praise.\n\nTable of Contents\n\n**Biblical Passages with Parables**\n\nIn the parables of the New Testament the heaven here in this world is often described in terms of plants yielding fruit or seeds of varying quantity. The plants represent people and the fruit the plants produce is love and joy. Just as some plants produce more fruit, some people give more love and experience more joy.\n\nWhile the heaven in this world is represented by the fruit of a plant during the plant's lifetime the eternal Heaven is the harvest. The harvest occurs at the end of the season just as eternal Heaven will come at the end of creation.\n\nMatthew 13:24-30 Another parable put he forth unto them, saying, The kingdom of heaven is likened unto a man which sowed good seed in his field: But while men slept, his enemy came and sowed tares among the wheat, and went his way. But when the blade was sprung up, and brought forth fruit, then appeared the tares also. So the servants of the householder came and said unto him, Sir, didst not thou sow good seed in thy field? from whence then hath it tares? He said unto them, An enemy hath done this. The servants said unto him, Wilt thou then that we go and gather them up? But he said, Nay; lest while ye gather up the tares, ye root up also the wheat with them. Let both grow together until the harvest: and in the time of harvest I will say to the reapers, Gather ye together first the tares, and bind them in bundles to burn them: but gather the wheat into my barn.\n\nIn this story the enemy which is the devil sowed the tares which are sin to destroy the wheat which is humanity. God plants the seeds of love in the hearts of humans. Satan, in order to destroy humanity, plants the seeds of self-centeredness. The Master which is God took great care to destroy the tares without destroying the wheat. In this parable the wheat and weed have become entwined as if two are one plant. At the time of the harvest the weeds and wheat are to be separated which is the separation of flesh and spirit on the Day of Judgment.\n\nThis passage is describing the harvest, therefore it is describing the eternal Heaven but it is immediately followed by a description of a different heaven. What comes next is a parable that talks of the fruit or yield of a plant during the plant's lifetime. This is a description of heaven here in this world.\n\nMatthew 13:31-32 Another parable put he forth unto them, saying, The kingdom of heaven is like to a grain of mustard seed, which a man took, and sowed in his field: Which indeed is the least of all seeds: but when it is grown, it is the greatest among herbs, and becometh a tree, so that the birds of the air come and lodge in the branches thereof.\n\nBy obeying the commandments of Christ we have joy and happiness and we spread love to others just as \"birds of the air come and lodge in the branches\" of the mustard tree.\n\nJust as the heaven in this world is compared to the fruit or yield of a plant during the plant's lifetime, the hell in this world is compared to a plant that does not yield any fruit.\n\nLuke 13:6-9 He spake also this parable; A certain man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard; and he came and sought fruit thereon, and found none. Then said he unto the dresser of his vineyard, Behold, these three years I come seeking fruit on this fig tree, and find none: cut it down; why cumbereth it the ground? And he answering said unto him, Lord, let it alone this year also, till I shall dig about it, and dung it: And if it bear fruit, well: and if not, then after that thou shalt cut it down.\n\nJust as the unfruitful plant was sown with dung there is chastisement or hell in this world for those children of God who live selfishly. Those who are not children of God are nothing but weed since they have no fruit bearing seed in them. Only fruit bearing plants are expected to grow fruit and are sown with dung when they fail to do so.\n\nBefore there can be a fruit bearing plant there must first be a seed and God is the farmer who plants all the seeds. All of the crops are pulled up at the harvest even the ones that produced little fruit before the harvest.\n\nMark 4:3-20 Hearken; Behold, there went out a sower to sow: And it came to pass, as he sowed, some fell by the way side, and the fowls of the air came and devoured it up. And some fell on stony ground, where it had not much earth; and immediately it sprang up, because it had no depth of earth: But when the sun was up, it was scorched; and because it had no root, it withered away. And some fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up, and choked it, and it yielded no fruit. And other fell on good ground, and did yield fruit that sprang up and increased; and brought forth, some thirty, and some sixty, and some an hundred. And he said unto them, He that hath ears to hear, let him hear. And when he was alone, they that were about him with the twelve asked of him the parable. And he said unto them, Unto you it is given to know the mystery of the kingdom of God: but unto them that are without, all these things are done in parables: That seeing they may see, and not perceive; and hearing they may hear, and not understand; lest at any time they should be converted, and their sins should be forgiven them. And he said unto them, Know ye not this parable? and how then will ye know all parables? The sower soweth the word. And these are they by the way side, where the word is sown; but when they have heard, Satan cometh immediately, and taketh away the word that was sown in their hearts. And these are they likewise which are sown on stony ground; who, when they have heard the word, immediately receive it with gladness; And have no root in themselves, and so endure but for a time: afterward, when affliction or persecution ariseth for the word's sake, immediately they are offended. And these are they which are sown among thorns; such as hear the word, And the cares of this world, and the deceitfulness of riches, and the lusts of other things entering in, choke the word, and it becometh unfruitful. And these are they which are sown on good ground; such as hear the word, and receive it, and bring forth fruit, some thirtyfold, some sixty, and some an hundred.\n\nHere once again it is the heaven in this life that is compared to the yield of plants. The plants are said to yield fruit in varying quantities up to a hundredfold.\n\nMark 10:29-30 And Jesus answered and said, Verily I say unto you, There is no man that hath left house, or brethren, or sisters, or father, or mother, or wife, or children, or lands, for my sake, and the gospel's, But he shall receive an hundredfold now in this time, houses, and brethren, and sisters, and mothers, and children, and lands, with persecutions; and in the world to come eternal life.\n\nThe hundredfold reward is \"now in this time\". Some fruit bearing plants do not produce a lot of fruit but they are still fruit bearing plants. By the mercy of God all of the seeds planted by God will be harvested even the ones thrown on stony ground because they are spirits of love that came from God.\n\nMatthew 25:14-30 For the kingdom of heaven is as a man travelling into a far country, who called his own servants, and delivered unto them his goods. And unto one he gave five talents, to another two, and to another one; to every man according to his several ability; and straightway took his journey. Then he that had received the five talents went and traded with the same, and made them other five talents. And likewise he that had received two, he also gained other two. But he that had received one went and digged in the earth, and hid his lord's money. After a long time the lord of those servants cometh, and reckoneth with them. And so he that had received five talents came and brought other five talents, saying, Lord, thou deliveredst unto me five talents: behold, I have gained beside them five talents more. His lord said unto him, Well done, thou good and faithful servant: thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things: enter thou into the joy of thy lord. He also that had received two talents came and said, Lord, thou deliveredst unto me two talents: behold, I have gained two other talents beside them. His lord said unto him, Well done, good and faithful servant; thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things: enter thou into the joy of thy lord. Then he which had received the one talent came and said, Lord, I knew thee that thou art an hard man, reaping where thou hast not sown, and gathering where thou hast not strawed: And I was afraid, and went and hid thy talent in the earth: lo, there thou hast that is thine. His lord answered and said unto him, Thou wicked and slothful servant, thou knewest that I reap where I sowed not, and gather where I have not strawed: Thou oughtest therefore to have put my money to the exchangers, and then at my coming I should have received mine own with usury. Take therefore the talent from him, and give it unto him which hath ten talents. For unto every one that hath shall be given, and he shall have abundance: but from him that hath not shall be taken away even that which he hath. And cast ye the unprofitable servant into outer darkness: there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth.\n\nIn other parables the heaven and hell of this life are compared to the yield of a fruit bearing plant. This time the spirit given to the child of God is compared to coins. The child of God, by his works, by his own free will, is supposed to cause that money to increase. The increase comes from investing that which is given. It is income that requires an initial investment just as a fruit bearing plant must start with a seed.\n\nThe initial investment was given to the servants but the increase is earned by the servants. This parable must therefore be describing heaven in this world because we cannot earn admission to the eternal Heaven. Also, the increase occurs before the return of the lord and it is referring to our righteousness and our joy before the return of our Lord and the Day of Judgment.\n\nSince this parable is describing heaven in this world the punishment it mentions must also be hell in this world. When the unprofitable servant is cast into outer darkness, this is not referring to the eternal Hell. In the earlier parable of wheat and tares the tares are symbolic of flesh that is cast into a \"furnace of fire\" at \"the end of this world\". This is the destructive Hell to come on the Day of Judgment which destroys all evil.\n\nThe unprofitable servant is not cast into the \"furnace of fire\" which happens at \"the end of this world\". Instead, he is cast into \"outer darkness\". An unprofitable servant of God is still a servant of God; he is still a child of God. He was given a coin by his lord meaning he was given a spirit of compassion by God. He may have buried that compassion deep within himself but that compassion itself is good and worthy of life. The unprofitable servant is resurrected unto eternal life; \"outer darkness\" is a description of hell here in this lifetime.\n\nMatthew 20:1-14 For the kingdom of heaven is like unto a man that is an householder, which went out early in the morning to hire labourers into his vineyard. And when he had agreed with the labourers for a penny a day, he sent them into his vineyard. And he went out about the third hour, and saw others standing idle in the marketplace, And said unto them; Go ye also into the vineyard, and whatsoever is right I will give you. And they went their way. Again he went out about the sixth and ninth hour, and did likewise. And about the eleventh hour he went out, and found others standing idle, and saith unto them, Why stand ye here all the day idle? They say unto him, Because no man hath hired us. He saith unto them, Go ye also into the vineyard; and whatsoever is right, that shall ye receive. So when even was come, the lord of the vineyard saith unto his steward, Call the labourers, and give them their hire, beginning from the last unto the first. And when they came that were hired about the eleventh hour, they received every man a penny. But when the first came, they supposed that they should have received more; and they likewise received every man a penny. And when they had received it, they murmured against the goodman of the house, Saying, These last have wrought but one hour, and thou hast made them equal unto us, which have borne the burden and heat of the day. But he answered one of them, and said, Friend, I do thee no wrong: didst not thou agree with me for a penny? Take that thine is, and go thy way: I will give unto this last, even as unto thee.\n\nIn this parable the pay given to the laborers is given out at the end of the work day meaning the end of time. This shows that this parable is describing the eternal kingdom of Heaven. The workers are paid based on their \"hire\" not their work. The workers are paid as they were told they would be; it was not compensation they had earned due to their labor. Likewise, we cannot work our way into the eternal kingdom of God.\n\nSome of the workers did work longer; some gathered more fruit during the work day just as some of God's children experience more joy during this life than others. The reward at the end of the work day was same for all just as all are equal in the eternal kingdom of God which is a gift of God through Christ.\n\nMark 10:17-27 And when he was gone forth into the way, there came one running, and kneeled to him, and asked him, Good Master, what shall I do that I may inherit eternal life? And Jesus said unto him, Why callest thou me good? there is none good but one, that is, God. Thou knowest the commandments, Do not commit adultery, Do not kill, Do not steal, Do not bear false witness, Defraud not, Honour thy father and mother. And he answered and said unto him, Master, all these have I observed from my youth. Then Jesus beholding him loved him, and said unto him, One thing thou lackest: go thy way, sell whatsoever thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven: and come, take up the cross, and follow me. And he was sad at that saying, and went away grieved: for he had great possessions. And Jesus looked round about, and saith unto his disciples, How hardly shall they that have riches enter into the kingdom of God! And the disciples were astonished at his words. But Jesus answereth again, and saith unto them, Children, how hard is it for them that trust in riches to enter into the kingdom of God! It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God. And they were astonished out of measure, saying among themselves, Who then can be saved? And Jesus looking upon them saith, With men it is impossible, but not with God: for with God all things are possible.\n\nChrist was asked \"what shall I do that I may inherit eternal life\", and as far as what we must do to earn it ourselves is be perfect. \"With men it is impossible but not with God: for with God all things are possible\". The eternal kingdom of Heaven is provided to us by God not through repentance, not through baptism, not through anything we are capable of doing unless we can live a life of absolute perfection. The eternal Heaven is provided to all children of God who have the seed, which is love, planted in the heart by God. Heaven is provided to that spirit, or seed, itself even for the millions who lived and died without ever hearing the word \"Jesus\" or the word \"YHWH\".\n\nTable of Contents\n\nA Much Quoted Biblical Passage\n\nUnderstanding that heaven is also a place in this world and understanding that the Name of the Lord is something which is in the heart of His children, look again at the third chapter of John. This is perhaps the most quoted passage of the New Testament.\n\nJohn 3:1-4 There was a man of the Pharisees, named Nicodemus, a ruler of the Jews: The same came to Jesus by night, and said unto him, Rabbi, we know that thou art a teacher come from God: for no man can do these miracles that thou doest, except God be with him. Jesus answered and said unto him, Verily, verily, I say unto thee, Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God. Nicodemus saith unto him, How can a man be born when he is old? can he enter the second time into his mother's womb, and be born?\n\nNotice that Nicodemus is astonished at the idea of a person being \"born again\". At that time and place there was clearly no concept of a person being born again. If a person were to experience a profound transformation they were not considered to have been born again and we should not apply a modern definition to a phrase used in an ancient dialog. Since being born again had no meaning at that time we should look to how Christ defined this phrase that He had used.\n\nJohn 3:5-6 Jesus answered, Verily, verily, I say unto thee, Except a man be born of water and of the Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God. That which is born of the flesh is flesh; and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit.\n\nBeing born again means a person must have two births. The flesh is born of the flesh and the spirit (lower case) is born of the Spirit (upper case). This means the spirit comes from God. The spirit enters into the body of a child of God when the child of God is born. We do not choose to be born of the Spirit any more than we choose to be born of the flesh.\n\nJohn 3:7-8 Marvel not that I said unto thee, Ye must be born again. The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh, and whither it goeth: so is every one that is born of the Spirit.\n\nWe cannot see the wind but we can feel it and we can see the effects of the wind as it blows the leaves of a tree. Likewise, we cannot see the spirit but we can feel it in ourselves and we can see the effects of it on others.\n\n_John 3:9-12 Nicodemus answered and said unto him, How can these things be? Jesus answered and said unto him, Art thou a master of Israel, and knowest not these things? Verily, verily, I say unto thee, We speak that we do know, and testify that we have seen; and ye receive not our witness._ _If I have told you earthly things_ _, and ye believe not, how shall ye believe, if I tell you of heavenly things?_\n\nThis is a transition or a turning point. By stating \"If I have told you earthly things\" Christ is making it clear that what He has been telling Nicodemus up to this point is matters of this world. What Christ has been talking about up to this point is the kingdom of heaven in this world.\n\nThe spirit must be in the heart in order to be able to pray or perform charity, in order to be able to experience the joy of the kingdom of God in this world. When a person is born that spirit must be born in them as well. We cannot choose to have that spirit; it must be there already for a person to seek it!\n\nThe children of God are the ones who possess love, who were given love by God. They are the ones who are capable of prayer which is entering the kingdom of heaven in this world.\n\n_John 3:12 If I have told you earthly things, and ye believe not, how shall ye believe,_ _if I tell you_ _of heavenly things?_\n\nAfter the turning point of verse twelve Christ turns His attention to the eternal Heaven to come on the Day of Judgment. \"How shall ye believe, if I tell you of heavenly things?\" Notice that from the Earth no one deserves or has earned passage to eternal Heaven but Christ Himself.\n\n_John 3:13-18 And no man hath ascended up to heaven, but he that came down from heaven, even the Son of man which is in heaven. And as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of man be lifted up: That whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have eternal life. For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life. For God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world through him might be saved. He that believeth on him is not condemned: but he that believeth not is condemned already, because he hath not_ _believed in the name of the only begotten Son of God_ _._\n\nTo enter the eternal Heaven one must believe in the \"name of the only begotten Son of God\". This means there is hope even for the atheist and even for people who have lived and died without ever hearing the word \"Jesus\". Believing in the generic \"Name of the Lord\" means believing in the essence of God; it means possessing and believing in love. Those who were born of God are said to believe on His name and they are the children of God. More specifically they are the spirits of love within the children of God.\n\nJohn 3:19-21 And this is the condemnation, that light is come into the world, and men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil. For every one that doeth evil hateth the light, neither cometh to the light, lest his deeds should be reproved. But he that doeth truth cometh to the light, that his deeds may be made manifest, that they are wrought in God.\n\nThose who \"hateth the light\" and those who \"cometh to the light\" are the same people. Christ had previously stated \"That which is born of the flesh is flesh and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit.\" It is the spirit that is \"wrought in God\" not the flesh so it is the spirit which \"doeth truth\". The flesh, including the flesh of the saints, loves \"darkness\".\n\nDarkness is mortality and death. With the influence of Satan we die and under the influence of Satan we love mortality. We see ourselves as Satan sees us. We take pleasure in reproduction just as we take pleasure in eating the flesh of animals. Fortunately we are not expected to overcome the influence of Satan. It is necessary that we have children and it is expected that we will live as mortals and take pleasure in our mortality.\n\nLuke 16:11 If therefore ye have not been faithful in the unrighteous mammon, who will commit to your trust the true riches?\n\nAs we live our mortal lives we should be fair and honest in all of our worldly business and financial dealings. Killing an animal for food can be done with respect and it is not a sin but it is the dark nature of the world that life feeds on life. If we kill animals for food we should not kill them wastefully nor engage in cruelty. If we refrain from eating meat we should not feel or express self-righteousness toward those who do kill animals for food. It is necessary that we reproduce but we should do so within the confines of a loving relationship. We should not feel or express self-righteousness toward those with lifestyles which are different from our own.\n\nHebrews 13:4 Marriage is honourable in all, and the bed undefiled: but whoremongers and adulterers God will judge.\n\nThe essential element of marriage is love yet even in faithful marriage there is a degree of lust. We should hold no grudge against whoremongers and adulterers even if they have a higher degree of lust as they are not to be judged by us. They will be judged by God.\n\nAs we live our mortal lives and enjoy our mortality we should realize that our death is the desire of Satan and our mortality is the outcome of his presence in the world. Life feeding on life and the resulting reproduction is what is meant by darkness. This is what is meant by the world being the dominion of Satan.\n\nDarkness is the death all mortals will ultimately face and it is an eternal death. Because of our imperfections neither we nor our loved ones in the grave fairly deserve resurrection and eternal life. We are given eternal life by the Grace of Christ.\n\nIn the world to come we will not be killing animals and eating their flesh nor will we reproduce. In the world to come we will have far more joy than this world has to offer but it will be joy that comes from a spiritual union not pleasure that comes from a physical union. It will be joy that comes from love not pleasure that comes from death. This is the difference between the \"light\" and the \"darkness\". God is the \"light\" for the \"light\" is love which is life and happiness. God's desire is for His children to live and have great joy. The \"darkness\" which is mortality, death and misery comes from Satan. The mortality of humanity is the desire of Satan. Our flesh loves darkness; our flesh takes pleasure in mortality but our spirit \"cometh to the light\".\n\nTable of Contents\n\nBiblical Passages Concerning the End of Creation\n\nGod created the world in six days but He could have done it in a single moment. God rested on the seventh day but He certainly wasn't tired.\n\nGenesis 2:1-3 Thus the heavens and the earth were finished, and all the host of them. And on the seventh day God ended his work which he had made; and he rested on the seventh day from all his work which he had made. And God blessed the seventh day, and sanctified it: because that in it he had rested from all his work which God created and made.\n\nThere is a reason for everything God does.\n\n2 Peter 3:8 But, beloved, be not ignorant of this one thing, that one day is with the Lord as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day.\n\nThe six days God worked to create the world are a prophecy of the six thousand years in which the work or purpose of creation is accomplished. The seventh day, or Sabbath, represents the one thousand years in which creation will rest. We cannot know when it will come but there will be a one thousand year period of peace on the Earth called the age of the Messiah or the millennium. The Sabbath is a prophecy of the millennium and since the Sabbath is such a considerable part of the Torah, we can have great certainty that the millennium will come.\n\nRevelation 20:2-7 And he laid hold on the dragon, that old serpent, which is the Devil, and Satan, and bound him a thousand years, And cast him into the bottomless pit, and shut him up, and set a seal upon him, that he should deceive the nations no more, till the thousand years should be fulfilled: and after that he must be loosed a little season. And I saw thrones, and they sat upon them, and judgment was given unto them: and I saw the souls of them that were beheaded for the witness of Jesus, and for the word of God, and which had not worshipped the beast, neither his image, neither had received his mark upon their foreheads, or in their hands; and they lived and reigned with Christ a thousand years. But the rest of the dead lived not again until the thousand years were finished. This is the first resurrection. Blessed and holy is he that hath part in the first resurrection: on such the second death hath no power, but they shall be priests of God and of Christ, and shall reign with him a thousand years. And when the thousand years are expired, Satan shall be loosed out of his prison,\n\nThe Bible does indicate that there will be a one thousand year period of peace but many people do not believe in the millennium. Christ they say, will never step foot on the Earth again.\n\n1 Thessalonians 4:17 Then we which are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air: and so shall we ever be with the Lord.\n\nThe fact we met the Lord in the air does not preclude Christ stepping foot on the Earth. By meeting the Lord in the air, we will be caught up in the Spirit.\n\nThose who do not believe in the millennium will often see the world itself as evil but Earth is not evil just as flesh is not evil; it is weak. By our nature, we the children of God are compassionate and loving. The flesh is weak; it is a straw in the wind that is easily moved by forces greater than itself. Before Satan was allowed to influence the flesh there was no sin in the Garden of Eden. The Earth was created by God and it was good when God created it. God stated this. During the one thousand years of the Sabbath the egocentric angels will be bound and the Earth will once again be a good place.\n\nIsaiah 11:6-9 The wolf also shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid; and the calf and the young lion and the fatling together; and a little child shall lead them. And the cow and the bear shall feed; their young ones shall lie down together: and the lion shall eat straw like the ox. And the sucking child shall play on the hole of the asp, and the weaned child shall put his hand on the cockatrice' den. They shall not hurt nor destroy in all my holy mountain: for the earth shall be full of the knowledge of the LORD, as the waters cover the sea.\n\nThere are other clues to suggest there will be a one thousand year period of peace in the world. For one thing, it is not just the spirit that is resurrected; the Bible clearly indicates the flesh is also raised from the dead.\n\nPsalms 65:2 O thou that hearest prayer, unto thee shall all flesh come.\n\nIsaiah 40:5 And the glory of the LORD shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together: for the mouth of the LORD hath spoken it.\n\nIsaiah 45:23 I have sworn by myself, the word is gone out of my mouth in righteousness, and shall not return, That unto me every knee shall bow, every tongue shall swear.\n\nThe flesh is resurrected but flesh does not pass into the eternal Kingdom of God.\n\nPsalms 78:39 For he remembered that they were but flesh; a wind that passeth away, and cometh not again.\n\nRomans 3:20 Therefore by the deeds of the law there shall no flesh be justified in his sight: for by the law is the knowledge of sin.\n\nActually there are two resurrections, and two deaths.\n\nThe death we experience at the end of our life on Earth is the first death. After death the children of God will be resurrected for the millennium, which is the first resurrection. Those who are not children of God are not resurrected at that time. Only the children of God will take part in the first resurrected and will live on the Earth in their flesh for one thousand years with Christ on the throne.\n\nAfter the millennium then there is the second resurrection at which time everyone is brought back from the dead for the Day of Judgment. After being judged unworthy of eternal life all flesh is destroyed. This destruction is the second death. The second death is said to have \"no power\" over those who take part in the first resurrection. This is because only the children of God take part in the first resurrection for the millennium and their spirits will be given eternal life on the Day of Judgment.\n\nRevelation 20:5-6 But the rest of the dead lived not again until the thousand years were finished. This is the first resurrection. Blessed and holy is he that hath part in the first resurrection: on such the second death hath no power, but they shall be priests of God and of Christ, and shall reign with him a thousand years.\n\nRevelation 21:8 But the fearful, and unbelieving, and the abominable, and murderers, and whoremongers, and sorcerers, and idolaters, and all liars, shall have their part in the lake which burneth with fire and brimstone: which is the second death.\n\nThe Bible does not say those who take part in the first resurrection have no part in the second death. The children of God have been murderers, whoremongers, and liars. The children of God will face judgment; their flesh is cast into the lake of fire so they do not completely escape the second death. The second death is said to have \"no power\" over the children of God who take part in the first resurrection because they are given eternal life even without their flesh.\n\nChrist Himself made reference to the millennium. Christ was once accused by the scribes of casting out devils by the prince of devils and he replied to them \"How can Satan cast out Satan?\" Christ went on to say, \"He that shall blaspheme against the Holy Ghost hath never forgiveness.\" Both of these statements are references to Satan. In the middle of a passage that is referring to Satan, Christ said \"First bind the strong man and then he will spoil his house.\"\n\n_Mark 3:22-29 And the scribes which came down from Jerusalem said, He hath Beelzebub, and by the prince of the devils casteth he out devils. And he called them unto him, and said unto them in parables, How can Satan cast out Satan? And if a kingdom be divided against itself, that kingdom cannot stand. And if a house be divided against itself, that house cannot stand. And if Satan rise up against himself, and be divided, he cannot stand, but hath an end. No man can enter into a strong man's house, and spoil his goods, except he will first bind the strong man; and then he will spoil his house. Verily I say unto you, All sins shall be forgiven unto the sons of men, and blasphemies wherewith soever they shall blaspheme: But he that shall blaspheme against the Holy Ghost hath never forgiveness, but is in danger of eternal damnation_ :\n\nThe \"strong man\" who is bound is Satan and his \"house\" that is spoiled is the Earth. This statement made by Christ is consistent with the book of Revelation which says the devil will be bound.\n\nChrist was also asked about a woman who had seven husbands in her lifetime, \"In the resurrection whose wife of them is she?\" Christ replied that she is wife to none of her husbands. He stated those who are resurrected to Heaven \"Neither marry, nor are given in marriage\".\n\nLuke 20:33-36 Therefore in the resurrection whose wife of them is she? for seven had her to wife. And Jesus answering said unto them, The children of this world marry, and are given in marriage: But they which shall be accounted worthy to obtain that world, and the resurrection from the dead, neither marry, nor are given in marriage: Neither can they die any more: for they are equal unto the angels; and are the children of God, being the children of the resurrection.\n\nIn a good marriage, Husband and wife are one flesh. If husband and wife, the closest relationship of Earth, does not transfer to Heaven then surely all earthly relationships will be forgotten. In the eternal kingdom of Heaven the children of God are angels of God. The kingdom of Heaven is Love. In the kingdom of God, Earth is forgotten and all are equal under God.\n\nWe will not recognize our family members as family nor will we love them more than others. Heaven is not Heaven if it is divided into groups where the members of each group have a greater love for each other than they have for the rest.\n\nThe love we have for our spouse, the love we have for our children, the love we have for our parents, all the love the children of God feel for each other in this world is only a small taste of Heaven. This love will continue in the world to come but it will be expanded. We will feel this love and an even greater love not only for the members of our family but for all of the children of God.\n\nWe will be able to know and have greater love for each other in Heaven because the walls between us will be removed. One difference between angels and humans is that humans are separated from each other. We are isolated in our flesh. We are born alone and we die alone. We cannot enjoy the communion with each other we will experience in Heaven but it was God's will that we not be totally isolated. It was God's will that we have someone with whom we can share a small degree of closeness even if it does fall far short of the closeness we with have with each other in Heaven.\n\nGenesis 2:18 And the LORD God said, It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make him an help meet for him.\n\nMarriage and family are gifts from God. God knows His children want to be reunited with friends and loved ones who have passed on and that is why there is a millennium. The millennium, which is the Sabbath, is a gift of God to His children.\n\nMark 2:27-28 And he said unto them, The sabbath was made for man, and not man for the sabbath: Therefore the Son of man is Lord also of the sabbath.\n\nThe millennium was made for humanity; it is a gift of God. The millennium takes place on the Earth. We will be in the flesh and we will have the memories and the relationships of the Earth. We will have a thousand years in a world of peace to be with our loved ones with Christ on the throne.\n\nIsaiah 2:2-4 And it shall come to pass in the last days, that the mountain of the LORD'S house shall be established in the top of the mountains, and shall be exalted above the hills; and all nations shall flow unto it. And many people shall go and say, Come ye, and let us go up to the mountain of the LORD, to the house of the God of Jacob; and he will teach us of his ways, and we will walk in his paths: for out of Zion shall go forth the law, and the word of the LORD from Jerusalem. And he shall judge among the nations, and shall rebuke many people: and they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruninghooks: nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more.\n\nWe will remember our lives on Earth. We will remember our friends and family and we will remember our experiences with them.\n\nAfter the thousand years the Earth will be destroyed and the children of God will escape the second death and pass into the kingdom of Heaven.\n\nIsaiah 45:25 In the LORD shall all the seed of Israel be justified, and shall glory.\n\nIsaiah 66:22 For as the new heavens and the new earth, which I will make, shall remain before me, saith the LORD, so shall your seed and your name remain.\n\nOur seed, which is our spirit of love planted by God, will remain along with our name which is our essence. Do not fear we will be so different from what we are now that we will merely be represented by spirits. Do not worry that our soul, our essence or inner-self, will not be there. We will be there. We will be different but it will be us who are there. We will have no prejudice, jealousy or envy...no selfishness or self-righteousness. We will have no hostility, pain or sadness. We will thoroughly know and love each other and Love God. It is only our \"seed\" and our \"name\" that will remain.\n\nRevelation 21:16-18 And the city lieth foursquare, and the length is as large as the breadth: and he measured the city with the reed, twelve thousand furlongs. The length and the breadth and the height of it are equal. And he measured the wall thereof, an hundred and forty and four cubits, according to the measure of a man, that is, of the angel. And the building of the wall of it was of jasper: and the city was pure gold, like unto clear glass.\n\nThe eternal Heaven is said to be twelve thousand furlongs by twelve thousand furlongs. This is a not a physical description of a physical place for Heaven is not a physical place. Heaven is a Spiritual world and we cannot express or even understand what it will be like in Heaven.\n\nThe joy we experience here in this world is compared to a mustard seed. If the seed is nourished it produces a lot of fruit which is to say a lot of joy.\n\nMatthew 13:31-32 Another parable put he forth unto them, saying, The kingdom of heaven is like to a grain of mustard seed, which a man took, and sowed in his field: Which indeed is the least of all seeds: but when it is grown, it is the greatest among herbs, and becometh a tree, so that the birds of the air come and lodge in the branches thereof.\n\nThe description of the eternal Heaven is a spiritual description; it describes the great Love and the great Joy of God's kingdom. A golden city twelve thousand furlongs is much greater than a mustard seed or the greatest harvest of a well-nourished mustard plant. A mustard seed is small and brittle. Likewise the joy we experience in this life is only temporary but gold never changes and the joy of the kingdom of Heaven will never diminish. If the greatest happiness we can experience in this life is compared to a few mustard seeds, how does it feel to experience the Joy of twelve thousand furlongs?\n\nThe kingdom of Heaven will be a ceaseless explosion of joy.\n\nThe Heaven we go to will be the new Heaven. Being new means Heaven will be cleansed. The egocentric angels will be removed and they will be replaced with the angels of Earth. The new Heaven will be established at the end of creation.\n\nIsaiah 65:17 For, behold, I create new heavens and a new earth: and the former shall not be remembered, nor come into mind.\n\nRevelation 21:1 And I saw a new heaven and a new earth: for the first heaven and the first earth were passed away; and there was no more sea.\n\nNot only will there be a new Heaven there will also be a new Earth. This is because even many of the animals of Earth have love in them. God will not let any love die. God will not forget one tiny piece of love He has planted in the world, not even a sparrow.\n\nLuke 12:6 Are not five sparrows sold for two farthings, and not one of them is forgotten before God?\n\nGod is Love and infinitely Righteous. It is a good thing to be remembered by God. Being remembered by God does not simply mean you will be a memory; it means you will be taken care of.\n\nEcclesiastes 3:21 Who knoweth the spirit of man that goeth upward, and the spirit of the beast that goeth downward to the earth?\n\nThe spirits of humanity go upward to the new Heaven, not the old. Likewise the spirits of beasts go downward to the new Earth. In the new Earth the animals will live in peace with each other, and we will be able to sojourn with them as angels. Whether we fly through the wonders of the new creation or whether we worship God before His throne, there will be no more jealousy, no more prejudice, no more pain, no more death, and no more self-righteousness.\n\nRevelation 21:4 And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.\n\nEven tears of repentance will no longer exist for there will be no need for repentance. There will be no more sin. There will be no more judgment. There will be no more disputes for all will have pure and perfect love for each other. We will have more love for each and every inhabitant of Heaven than we now have for our mother, our spouse, or the one person in our life who is the most precious to us. Heaven will be a world without evil. It will be a world where all inhabitants have great love for each other and are loved by God. Like the great Love of God, the great Joy of Heaven is beyond the understanding of the human mind and beyond the capacity of the human heart.\n\nTable of Contents\n\n###\n\nThank you for downloading this ebook.\n\nFind me on Google+: <https://plus.google.com/u/0/107350023226397691941/posts>\n\nMy blog: <http://thesegladtidings.blogspot.com/>\n\nSmashwords: <https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/StashLazarus>\n", "meta": {"pile_set_name": "BookCorpus2"}}
{"text": "\n\n### the first installment of\n\n_Dawn of Shadows_ is the first installment in the supernatural novel _Prophecy of the Heir_ , the first volume in _The Chronicles of Times_ series. _Prophecy of the Heir_ is available in print or ebook at all major online retailers.\n\nAll Rights Reserved.\n\nCopyright © 2012 JC Lamont.\n\nNo part of this publication may be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, posted on any website, or transmitted in any form or by any means―digital, electronic, scanning, photocopy, recording or otherwise―without written permission from the author, except for brief quotations in printed reviews and articles.\n\nCover art by Caleb Havertape.\n\nCopyright © 2014. All rights reserved. Used with Permission.\n\nCrimson Moon Press\n\nwww.crimsonmoonpress.com\n\nDistributed by Smashwords.\n\n### NOTE TO READERS\n\n_Dawn of Shadows_ , a 21,000-word novella, is the first chapter of _Prophecy of the Heir._\n\n## The Chronicles of Time\n\na seven book series released in three volumes\n\nVolume I: _Prophecy of the Heir_ :\n\n(Books One and Two)\n\nAvailable in print and e-book\n\nVolume II: _Covenant of Blood_\n\n(Books Three and Four)\n\nComing Soon\n\nVolume III: Abolition of Death\n\n(Books Five, Six, and Seven)\n\nComing Soon\n\nPrologue\n\nDawn of Shadows\n\nAppendix A: General\n\nGlossary\n\nAbout the Author\n\nReviews\n\nOther Works by JC Lamont\n\nCrimson letters glistened across the thin sheet of parchment.\n\nThe white-cloaked figure dipped the quill into the basin of blood beside him, then inscribed the final letters across the page.\n\nA sigh escaped his lips as he closed the tome, for its completion merely marked the beginning. As his finger caressed the name engraved upon the ornate cover, the memory of his father's words echoed through his mind. Even now, he sensed the strain in his father's voice. Are you certain you understand the consequences? The sacrifice?\n\nYes, he had answered. She is worth it.\n\nPushing from his mind all that was to come, he pressed his fingertips to his lips and then against her name. He withdrew from the walled garden, and wound his way through the botanical milieu of the royal grounds.\n\nBeneath a silver sky, he strode across the courtyard, and the palace doors swung open at his approach. The columned throne room lay before him, its alabaster pillars, walls, and floor shimmering with iridescent light. Embossed in the center of the floor, the trionicle―the royal emblem of three circles entwining a triangle―cast a golden glow upon his features.\n\nA tiered dais rose from the far end of the chamber; the first level lay bare, the second encompassed an array of white stones ablaze with an incessant flame, and the third held a gold throne and the one who sat upon it.\n\nUnburned by the flames, the cloaked-figure walked through the midst of the fire, bowed, and presented the tome to the King. His voice was but a whisper.\n\n\"It is finished.\"\n\n### 1\n\nDeep in the White Mountain, carved in gold across the face of the great chalice, the Laws of Time speak of what can and cannot come to pass, of what can and cannot be overturned, and of what can and cannot live forever. The chalice was empty, but that would soon change, and bring with it the end of all things...or the beginning.\n\nA new age was dawning, leaving the old Age―the Age of eternity past―forever forgotten.\n\nBut of the great chalice, Lucifer Haylel, commander of the Malakim, knew nothing. Nor did he know of which age was his origin―the one to end, or the one just begun.\n\nHe knew only that he grew restless.\n\nWhen he'd first heeded King Elyon's royal decree to subdue and take dominion of Shamayim, he longed to do nothing more than explore the vast forests, mountains, and lone river that enveloped the world in which he lived. Enjoying the camaraderie of his fellow Malakim, savoring the supremacy that came with his rank as their commander, he reveled in the favor of His Majesty, and the privilege of being entrusted with the Ko'akh―the sword of power.\n\nBut of late, a sense of unquiet gnawed at his ether. He sought something. Something more.\n\nStanding outside the glass-domed conservatory annexed to the palace, he stared up at the gold tree that grew within. Lush, ripe fruit hung from within a myriad of branches, shimmering in the light radiating from the palace.\n\nThe only tree of its kind in all Shamayim―locked in a dome with no ingress.\n\nCurious. So very curious.\n\nA horn blare resounded from the palace, and he glanced away from the tree in surprise. A few moments earlier, King Elyon's son had traversed the courtyard carrying a gold tome, and Lucifer wondered if the summons bore a connection.\n\nWith one last glance at the enclosed tree, he strode towards the palace.\n\n### 2\n\nClenching the reins, Michael hunched forward as Shakar's hooves left the ground, her massive wings beating on either side behind him. The pegasus soared upwards, and Michael closed his eyes against the rush of air hitting his face. As the mare righted into a glide, Michael released the reins and held out his arms. He gave a euphoric shout and tilted his face upwards, inhaling the fragrant air.\n\n\"Show-off!\" a voice called out, and Michael turned to see his comrade, Mardikel, flying beside him on his own pegasus.\n\nMichael laughed. \"You should try it.\"\n\nTentatively releasing his reins, Mardikel attempted to hold out his arms, but slipping from his mare, hastily reached for them again.\n\n\"Move with her, like this,\" Michael said, exaggerating the slight back and forth rocking motion of Shakar's body as her hindquarters rose and fell with her wings.\n\nMardikel imitated him, and after several moments held out slightly shaking arms. \"I'm doing it!\"\n\nMichael grinned. \"Now dive.\"\n\nBefore Mardikel could retort, Michael tapped Shakar with his foot, nudging her into a dive. He leaned back, pressing his knees tight against her body. He kept his arms extended, and watched the speeding landscape approach. At the last moment, he nudged her again, and once more soared upwards.\n\n\"One of these days you're going to fall off,\" Mardikel grumbled.\n\nMichael laughed and rubbed Shakar's neck. \"My girl would never let me fall.\"\n\nA horn blast sounded, and they both turned towards the White Mountain in the distance, then looked at each other and grinned.\n\n\"Shall we race?\"\n\n\"On my mark,\" Michael said.\n\n\"No, on mine,\" Mardikel said. \"Mark!\"\n\nMichael raised a brow as Mardikel shot forward on his mare. \"Silly Malak,\" he said, patting Shakar. \"He thinks he can beat us.\"\n\nHunching forward, he soon caught up to Mardikel. The mares soared over Shamayim neck to neck―the aura of light emanating from their gold manes and shimmering amber coats conjured the illusion of flaming horses galloping across the sky. Far below, the Khahi River serpentined across legions of meadows before cutting through a dense forest.\n\nWithin moments, the White Mountain, forged from luminous Khahi rock, loomed before them. Jeweled gates enclosed the twelve levels carved into the mountain face. From the vast peak, in a subtle blend of uncut rock and polished stone, the palace rose against Shamayim's silver sky. Its lone tower flew the flag of Shamayim, a gold trionicle against a field of white.\n\nOnce more, Michael tapped Shakar with his foot, and she flew ahead of Mardikel's pegasus as they soared over the royal conservatory. Gold leaves from the massive tree in its center spun a web of refracted light across the domed glass ceiling.\n\nAs they approached the palace courtyard, Michael noticed the large assemblage of Malakim waiting for their arrival. Sensing Mardikel's desperate attempt to catch up, Michael dove into the courtyard, forcing several Malakim to lunge out of the way. Shakar's hooves touched the ground, and as she cantered to a halt, Michael jumped off her back and bowed with flourish.\n\nJust then, Mardikel's mare landed, but the Malak tugged too sharply at the reins. The pegasus halted abruptly, and Mardikel hurled over her head and landed on his posterior in the fountain.\n\n\"I believe I won,\" Michael said with a smirk.\n\n\"You are late, Lieutenants,\" the commander said, his voice stern. Shrouded in his gold cloak, with seven trionicles glistening across the front of his shoulder denoting his rank, he would have appeared quite austere if not for the amused gleam in his eye.\n\nMardikel pushed himself from the fountain and wrung out his cloak, inadvertently splattering water on the lieutenant commander, Gavriel.\n\n\"Late and pathetic,\" Gavriel muttered, flicking water droplets from his chest.\n\nThe commander waved them forward, and Michael and Mardikel followed him and Gavriel across the courtyard. As they passed beneath the lone white tree growing in the courtyard, Michael breathed in the fragrance of the pearlescent fruit that had made all the living creatures of Shamayim immortal. Ascending a set of steps to the palace doors, they joined three other lieutenants. Together, they comprised the Seven, the highest ranking officers of the Malakim.\n\nCrouched on the ledge above them, the Cheyoth―four winged beasts hewn from stone―leered down at them. Although the face of one was likened unto a Malak, the other three were of creatures unknown, and their chiseled features bore such an ominous countenance that Michael felt them ill-hewn.\n\n\"Are we ready, then?\" the commander asked.\n\nWithout waiting for a reply, he pushed open the palace doors and led the Malakim past the white-columned archways adorning the vast throne room. Engraved in the center of the floor, a large trionicle cast a shimmering beam of gold light across the walls.\n\nEncircled above, stone pillars lined the gallery that held the royal court of Seraphim. Clothed in white flowing gowns, with bronze wings caressing their slender frames like cloaks, they sang in dulcet tones, their airy voices rising and falling in soft harmony.\n\nA massive gold throne rose from the third tier of the royal dais, and hovering behind it, a veil―woven with twelve arching rows of jewels―shimmered in an array of colors. The throne was empty, and befitting their privileged status as the sons of Elyon, the Malakim stood in formation across the room, with the Seven taking their places along the first level of the dais.\n\nTwo massive pillars, gnarled like the trunk of an olive tree, towered on either side of the dais, with steps spiraling their girths. But Michael's gaze rested on the flames smoldering across the white stones of the second tier. The commander was the only Malak to have ever passed over the stones of fire, when he'd been appointed his rank, and granted possession of the sword of power.\n\nFlames erupted from the stones, pitching sparks and embers into the air. The floor quaked, and a gust of wind whipped through the throne room, followed by a blinding flash of light.\n\n\"Their Majesty, Elohim, the Most High!\" the court of Seraphim heralded, veiling their faces with their wings.\n\nMichael bowed with the rest of the Malakim as the figure of King Jehuva El Elyon, spirit-lord, creator, and ruler of Shamayim, emerged from behind the veil. Twelve jewels studded the gold crown upon his head, and light streamed from his ethereal body, illuminating both his vesture and long white hair and beard. The gold hilt of the royal sword, studded with the twelve jewels of Shamayim, rested in the ornate sheath at his waist. A signet ring of the trionicle adorned his seven-fingered hand, which gripped a massive staff. Its shaft bore the carved faces of the Cheyoth, and at its tip, two sculpted hands with outstretched fingers rose into the air.\n\nOn either side of King Elyon, two other figures in luminous raiment emerged from behind the veil.\n\nThe King's son, Jehuva Ben Elyon, Prince of Shamayim, Captain of the Malakim, personification of his father's soul, stood to the right of the throne. His face resembled his father's―ageless with strong, perfect features. Rich brown hair grazed his shoulders, and his dark eyes shone with intensity.\n\nHovering to the left of the throne, his face hidden in the shrouds of a white cloak, the Shekinah, personification of the King's spirit, swept a nebulous hand over the gold lampstand beside him, igniting it with seven tongues of flame.\n\nThe Seraphim unfurled their wings, and the host of Malakim rose.\n\nKing Elyon took his place upon the throne. The gold-fringed hem of his white cloak trailed down several steps of the dais.\n\n\"Come,\" the King's voice thundered. \"Bear witness to the laying of the foundation of Time.\"\n\n### 3\n\nCommander Lucifer Haylel led the Malakim through the royal gardens, then down several levels of the mountain into the woods behind the palace. The ground sloped downward, and the trees grew dense and close together until suddenly the path ended abruptly at a severe drop.\n\nHis gaze swept the Sea of Glass at the base of the mountain, a pool of water countless leagues in circumference. Massive trees encircled the sea, their trunks forming a grand colonnade around the water. Though Lucifer had explored this place before, and knew the sea could scry over any part of Shamayim, he didn't understand why King Elyon would desire for them to gather here.\n\nHe waved for the Malakim to file in on either side while he led the Seven to an organic terrace near the surface. Chattering amongst themselves, the host descended along tiered rows of thick, ivy-entwined branches, reclining on the lush rustic seating encircling the vast sea.\n\nAlong the uppermost limbs, the head Seraph, Isel, led the Seraphim across the colonnade. Light from their wings glittered across the leaves. With a regal air, Isel settled against foliage that conformed to her body as she reclined. Her lavender-hued black hair cascaded over one shoulder and swept over the twelve jewels glistening across her gold bodice.\n\nAs the Malakim continued filing across the tiers, Lucifer was surprised to see the Centaurs join them. Though the Malakim often engaged in flight races and other various games with the scorpion-tailed, winged equestrians, the Centaurs rarely ventured so far from the forest. Lucifer dipped his head in respect to Vafar, the lead Centaur. The gold coronet across Vafar's forehead barely tamed the mane of wild black hair straggling past his shoulders as he motioned for his herd to spread out across the base of the colonnade.\n\nLucifer's surprise deepened as even the Ophanim, who cared for the grounds and creatures of Shamayim, joined them. Small, jovial beings with pointy, expressive ears, the Ophanim hoisted themselves onto the lower branches with surprising agility.\n\n\"Whatever this Time is,\" Gavriel said, \"every being in Shamayim has been invited to witness it.\"\n\n\"Indeed,\" Lucifer said, his curiosity mounting. \"I would have assumed only we sons of Elyon would be privy to such an occasion.\"\n\nElohim descended into the colonnade, and the host fell silent.\n\nKing Elyon, the Prince, and the Shekinah walked across the glass sea, their footfalls sending a thunderous echo through the fathomless depth. Even after they had halted in the center of the pool, the rumbling took several moments to dissipate.\n\nKing Elyon swirled his finger between the carved hands of his staff. As though they held an invisible sphere, a dark liquid slowly filled the space between them. Below, the glass sea turned black, mirroring the orb of infinite darkness now resting in the staff's out-stretched hands. A deep, low humming reverberated from the sea.\n\nMichael leaned forward. \"What is it?\"\n\nGavriel never looked up from the floor. \"A fluid matrix of water and matter particles.\"\n\nThe rest of the Seven stared at him.\n\n\"It's a what?\" Lucifer asked, speaking for all of them.\n\nBefore Gavriel could respond, the Shekinah transformed into a luminous dove and disappeared into the orb. Deep in the Sea of Glass, he reappeared, a streak of light soaring through the watery matrix.\n\nStunned, Lucifer stared from the staff to the sea. \"The orb is a portal.\"\n\nThe glass sea adjusted its depths to the Shekinah's flight, pursuing the luminous dove as he traversed deeper into the darkness. The humming escalated into a roar of rushing water, and an intense heat rose from the floor's surface.\n\nLucifer glanced back at the orb atop King Elyon's staff. A pinpoint of light revealed the Shekinah had reached the center of the matrix.\n\n\"What's happening?\" Michael asked over the deafening roar.\n\n\"Energy,\" Gavriel said. \"Created by the Shekinah's flight pattern. The resulting heat waves have activated the water and matter particles, forming a cosmic furnace, and―\"\n\n\"And it's going to explode,\" Lucifer finished, leaning forward in anticipation.\n\nThe tumult reached a feverish pitch. Steam billowed in a vaporous dance across the surface of the glass sea.\n\nThe Prince stepped forward and placed his hand over the black orb on his father's staff. For a moment he hesitated, then his voice echoed across the Sea of Glass: \"Let there be light!\"\n\n### 4\n\nThe center of the sphere ignited. Lucifer shielded his eyes as both the glass sea and the mirroring orb erupted with light. White-hot luminescent waves radiated throughout the matrix.\n\n\"Brilliant,\" Gavriel said.\n\n\"Such formidable power,\" Lucifer mused. \"The ability to create...out of nothing...by mere vocal command.\"\n\nBeside him, Michael retrieved the spare sheet of parchment he often kept in the pocket of his breeches, and began sketching the scene before him.\n\nHovering over the water, the Shekinah's avian form grew far greater than Lucifer would ever have thought possible. Its now-massive wings gathered vast volumes of water together, as it flew in a circular motion over the sea, drawing it into a cohesive body until an immense, spinning sphere of water hovered above the Sea of Glass.\n\nAt last, the bird slowed its flight, and cradling the watery sphere in his wings, enveloped half the globe in darkness.\n\n\"You called it 'energy'?\" Lucifer whispered.\n\nGavriel nodded. \"A three-dimensional cosmos of untold immensity, activated by the intense fusion of heat.\"\n\nMardikel smirked. \"What I'd like to know is who activated Lieutenant Commander Know-Everything?\"\n\nUsually Lucifer would have found the lieutenant's comment humorous. Of the Seven, he was closest to Michael and Mardikel, and often found the company of Gavriel and the other three lieutenants tedious. But for once, he was interested in whatever knowledge the lieutenant commander could offer. \"Activated by energy?\"\n\n\"After a fashion,\" Gavriel said. \"Energy is really a property of space-velocity, of which His Majesty is the cosmological constant. We've just witnessed the genesis of a finite universe with spatial curvature, that is essentially flat, but which―\"\n\n\"Pray tell,\" Mardikel said, \"how is it that you know all this?\"\n\nGavriel cocked his head. \"Perchance it has something to do with not spending every waking moment racing pegasoi, showing up late for royal summons, and falling into fountains.\"\n\nMardikel rolled his eyes.\n\nAfter a moment, Lucifer leaned towards him. \"So how do you know all this?\" he whispered.\n\nGavriel shrugged. \"It just comes to me.\"\n\n\"Ah,\" Lucifer said, somewhat disconcertedly. \"So, a universe, you say? As in, a whole other world?\"\n\nGavriel nodded. \"A world which King Elyon apparently calls Time.\"\n\n\"And what is the purpose of this Time?\"\n\n\" _That_ I do not know,\" Gavriel said.\n\nLucifer stroked his chin. Perhaps the King had sensed his restlessness, his longing for something new.\n\nWith each rotation of the spinning sphere, Lucifer and the host watched as King Elyon added to his work. Layers of atmosphere now enveloped the watery globe, with the icy seventh acting as a protective barrier. The heated core of the sphere had resulted in the formation of its mantle and crust, and the intense temperature had caused it to become buoyant and rise. At the King's summons, it breached the water's surface, a vast landmass he deemed the Gaia.\n\nAlthough an intricate scheme of channels and reservoirs retained water, forming a myriad of lakes and rivers, a lone continent now covered three-fourths of the sphere, leaving a solitary ocean behind. An explosion of plant life followed, shrouding the Gaia in a variety of lush foliage.\n\nLucifer stared at the King, aching to share this ability to create something from nothing, to possess the power to speak something into existence, to hold in his hand an object that had a moment ago had been nothing but air.\n\nBeside him, Michael pulled out another sheet of parchment, and Lucifer wondered how many scrolls he could possibly fit in his breeches. His gaze returned to the glass sea, and to the clusters of hydrogen and helium, left in the wake of the Prince's command for light, that floated aimlessly through the cosmos.\n\nAt the King's order, one of the clusters coalesced and ignited into a molten ball of plasma. White light burst through the day star's surface as plumes of outward-flowing gas curled and spun into space.\n\nNo longer needing to cast the sphere in shadow, the Shekinah circumnavigated a large cloud of astral dust. Accelerating his speed, his movements compressed the cloud into a celestial body of concentrated mass, until it formed a blue-white rock that reflected light from the newly-created sun.\n\nAs the universe continued to stretch outwards, clusters of hydrogen and helium continued to coalesce, erupting into ribbons of light, as spirals of stars banded into galaxies. Beams entwined and swirled, traversing the universe in an ocean of color. Shades of blue faded to green, then yellow and orange, deepening from red to crimson as waves of light drifted through a gauzy maze of celestial dust.\n\nClustered in the spiral arm of a milky-white galaxy, the original sphere now hung within its own solar system.\n\nLucifer glanced over at Michael's parchment and was surprised to find the focus of the sketch was King Elyon's son.\n\n\"Why haven't you drawn the King?\" Lucifer whispered.\n\nMichael glanced up, and stared thoughtfully at the Prince. \"The King is creating through him,\" he said. \"I don't know how, or even why, but he's channeling his power through the Captain, as though he is the universal life force.\"\n\nLucifer studied Michael for a moment, then glanced back at the King. \"How can you tell?\"\n\nMichael shrugged. \"The way they look at each other. I get the sense that this is the greatest thing they've ever done together. Almost as if they've been waiting an eternity for this moment.\"\n\nLucifer stared across the sea once more, his gaze resting first on father then on son.\n\n\"It's breathtaking, isn't it?\" Michael asked.\n\nIt took Lucifer a moment to realize the lieutenant spoke of the cosmos itself. Before he could respond, Gavriel leaned towards them.\n\n\"The spectrum of colors is the result of light waves being stretched and shifted,\" Gavriel said. \"As the universe continues to expand, it's pulling the stars farther out into space.\"\n\n\"I could use a good stretching and shifting,\" Mardikel said, leaning back against the moss.\n\nGavriel glared at him. \"Does the power before you truly evoke no fear, or do you care for nothing beyond your ability to race a pegasus?\"\n\n\"It is breathtaking,\" Mardikel said, defensively. \"I just prefer expressing my respect in ways devoid of endless commentary.\"\n\nLucifer held up a hand to silence Mardikel. \"No one questions the display of power, or the fear it evokes,\" he said. \"It is quite formidable.\"\n\nGavriel turned back to the other three lieutenants―Ambriel, Uriel, and Sariel―with whom he'd spent most of the creation conversing. \"I'm most curious regarding its inhabitants.\"\n\nLucifer's head jerked towards them. \"What inhabitants?\"\n\n\"Is it not obvious Elohim has created this new world for habitation?\" Gavriel asked.\n\nThe other three lieutenants nodded agreement, with Sariel adding, \"The whole planet is conducive to maintaining life.\"\n\n\"We shall see,\" Lucifer said, then shot Michael and Mardikel a sly grin. \"Perhaps my skill in effectively taking dominion of Shamayim has inspired King Elyon to create another world in need of subduing. Why else should he wish us to be its witnesses?\"\n\n\"To revel in its resplendence,\" Gavriel said. \"In which I actively engage.\"\n\n\"Oh, trust me,\" Lucifer said. \"No one questions your reveling.\"\n\nNeither Lucifer nor Gavriel was disappointed, for they soon witnessed an eruption of creatures. Air, sea, and land now abounded with animals―all fueled from the life force emanating from the Shekinah's presence.\n\n\"The animals can procreate,\" Gavriel said.\n\nLucifer tore his gaze from a pair of colossal reptiles with massive skulls and rough, scaly skin. \"Say again?\"\n\n\"They possess the ability to evolve in a myriad of different breeds and varieties.\"\n\nThe commander sat up straighter. Rule of such a world would never lead to restlessness. \"This makes the possibilities for dominion endless,\" he muttered eagerly, not realizing he had spoken aloud.\n\nGavriel shook his head.\n\n\"Well, does it not?\" Lucifer asked.\n\nGavriel merely smiled. \"You clearly have not realized something about this world.\"\n\n\"And what is that?\"\n\nBefore Gavriel could respond, the Shekinah flew up through the glass sea and perched on the King's forearm, and Lucifer heard his name. His head snapped towards King Elyon who continued to speak, his lips never moving, and Lucifer knew only he could hear the words.\n\nThen he turned back to Gavriel, and a smile crept over his face. \"Now you shall see if my assessment was correct. Follow me,\" he said, addressing the rest of the Seven.\n\nLeaving the rest of the host behind, the Seven slipped from the colonnade, and the commander led them to the gatehouse where Elohim awaited them. Isel, Vafar, and the head Ophanim, Groblik, also joined them.\n\n\"Come,\" King Elyon said. \"Accompany us on our visit to Time.\"\n\n### 5\n\nWith Mardikel at his side, Michael trailed behind the commander as they followed Elohim to the crest of the Great Stair―a steep stone outcropping that diagonally bisected the mountain from the royal gardens to the southern foothills. On either side of the stair, a waterfall flowed down rock and stone as it fed the Khahi River below.\n\nIn silence, they descended past the layers of gardens, winding paths, and hidden alcoves that pervaded the White Mountain. Beyond the southern foothills grew the royal vineyards, and in the distance, fields of white and gold shimmerweed swayed in the breeze.\n\nAt the base of the mountain, the stairs gave way to a grand courtyard of luminescent Khahi stone. Had the double gate at its far end been closed, the molded halves of the trionicle would have formed the royal insignia.\n\nThough Shamayim extended indefinitely beyond the courtyard, between the gates loomed nothing but the Mistlands.\n\nMichael recognized this realm as the place of his origin. He had been conjured from mist, lacking consciousness until he walked through a ring of fire that had burned in its midst, the flames of which encased his vaporous form in a bronzed, ethereal body. Seeing the White Mountain for the first time, he had felt inexplicably drawn to the luminous palace at its peak. All around him, newly created Malakim had ascended with but one goal, one inescapable desire―to enter the palace and discover the one who dwelt within.\n\n\"I knew he would take us to the new world,\" the commander said.\n\nGavriel smiled, but said nothing.\n\nThey soon neared a white archway several fathoms wide. Between the vast columns, a scrolled trellis design supported a crystal trionicle. Through the veil of liquid glass that hung between the columns, streaks of pink and crimson graced the sky of the new world as its sun peeked above the horizon. At the foot of the portal, the Great Stair resumed, descending to the ground below.\n\nKing Elyon and the Prince stepped through the veil. Without hesitation, the commander joined them. Michael stepped through next, and an immense pressure enveloped him. As the others followed, he stared in astonishment, for the movements of his limbs seemed trapped in slow motion.\n\n\"It will take a moment to adjust,\" Gavriel said, the only Malak to walk through without discomfort. \"The atmosphere of Time is slower than that of Shamayim.\"\n\n\"I knew that,\" Mardikel quipped, as Isel, Vafar, and Groblik also passed through without issue.\n\nBelow them, the Gaia swelled with life, a verdant panorama of treetops, fields, and winding rivers. Their descent continued, and the view of the landscape waned, clouded by rolling hills and timberlands.\n\nAt last they reached the ground, and stood on an elevated expanse of fertile soil that stretched for leagues in every direction. A gentle river ran through the barren expanse, flowing towards the botanical milieu in the distance that bordered it.\n\nAs the Malakim followed King Elyon towards the riverbank, a small creature bounded from the far trees on its hind legs. Thick scales covered its body, and short spikes ran down its back and tail. It halted, sniffed the air, then cocked its head and emitted a clicking noise.\n\nThe commander stepped forward, hand outstretched. \"Hello, little fellow.\"\n\nThe creature leapt through the commander's chest, raced across the bare field, and scurried into the underbrush. The commander whirled, feeling his body in surprise.\n\nGavriel shook with laughter. \"I thought as much,\" he said. \"That's what I was trying to tell you. It's a sub-natural world. Did you not notice when we first stepped from the Great Stair how the soil was not disturbed by our footfalls?\"\n\n\"But that fails in practicality,\" the commander said, bewildered. \"Why would I desire to conquer a world beneath me?\"\n\nGavriel patted him on the shoulder. \"All is well, truly. Take pleasure, for pleasure's sake.\"\n\nWhen they reached the riverbank, King Elyon halted beside the water's edge. In the distance, the meandering river cascaded down a waterfall before branching out into four separate rivers.\n\nThe King turned to his son, he said, \"Let us make creatures in our image, in our likeness.\"\n\nKneeling on the ground, his white cloak pooling about him, King Elyon immersed his hands in the moist soil. Michael stared, captivated, as the meticulous design and precision of a creature's body, limbs, and face were flawlessly sculpted from the earth. He committed every detail to memory so that he could sketch the scene upon his return to Shamayim.\n\nThe Prince then conjured an orb of light which hovered above his hand. He, too, knelt, and inserted the orb into the being's chest. The Shekinah, shrouded in lucent form, bent over the creature and breathed into it.\n\nThe soil around the mud-being's nose and mouth transformed into flesh; the lips turned pink, and eyelashes curled against its cheeks. Skin crept outwards across the face, and individual strands of hair formed on the top of its head. Soil continued transforming into flesh, down its neck and across its frame, until the entire creature was encased in a corporeal body.\n\nThe chest began to inflate, then relax, and inflate again.\n\n\"It's breathing,\" Michael said.\n\n\"He is breathing,\" the Prince said. \"He is earth-kind.\"\n\nMichael was startled by his voice, for beyond the command of light, never had he heard the Captain speak. Soft, yet commanding, the voice held a formality befitting royalty.\n\nThe man's eyes fluttered open. He rose to his feet, first examining his own body, then comparing it to the ethereal body of the King. \"Who are you, my lord?\" he asked at last.\n\n\"I am Elyon,\" the King said, \"SpiritMaster: Creator of Time, the earth and its sky.\" He waved an outstretched arm to encompass the landscape. \"This world is your home; its inhabitants are under your domain.\"\n\nStunned, the man surveyed the vast world around him, yet as his gaze swept over the Malakim, he appeared to stare through them.\n\n\"He can't see us,\" Michael said in surprise.\n\nThe commander sighed. \"A sub-natural world ruled by a sub-natural mud-race,\" he said, his voice betraying his mounting disinterest.\n\nMichael shrugged. \"He doesn't appear to see the Captain either.\"\n\nThe Prince circled the man, studying every movement, every gesture, engrossed in even the smallest change in facial expression or body language. Yet the man seemed oblivious to him as he stared at King Elyon in awe.\n\nThe man stepped forward. \"And who am I, my lord?\"\n\nIn answer, King Elyon stretched forth his hand.\n\nAcross the expanse of soil, a small gold sapling sprouted, then grew taller and thicker as branches spawned from its golden trunk, until a full-grown tree stood before them.\n\n### 6\n\nA gnarled, key-shaped knot lay within its massive trunk. Light from the day star danced across the ripe, iridescent fruit, and a cool breeze captured the rich scent. Lucifer stared, stunned at the realization that this gold tree was likely the same as the one enclosed in the conservatory of Shamayim.\n\nThe ground rumbled again, and his view of the tree was hidden as the field erupted with all manner of fruit-laden trees. All along winding paths, trees blossomed with leaves that glistened like emeralds, or waved soft branches that grazed the ground in a willowy dance. Trailing ivy spread along the ground, decorating the floor of the garden. On either side of the riverbank, a variety of blooms burst from the ground and filled the air with fragrance.\n\n\"This is Ayden,\" the King said with a wave of his hand. \"The Garden of Elyon.\"\n\nIt took the man a moment to recover from the demonstration of power he'd just witnessed. \"And who am I?\" he asked again, even more weakly than before.\n\n\"You are Adahm, son of Elyon, steward of my garden,\" King Elyon replied. \"Walk with me, and I shall show you the nature of tending it.\"\n\nPerplexed that the King bestowed the privileged appellation to a corporeal being, Lucifer lingered several paces behind as the Malakim followed Elohim and the new creature through the vast garden. Amongst the sub-natural plants new to him, Lucifer recognized a few of numinous quality―luminore briar, ivywood underbrush, shimmerweed, muscherons, and several fruit trees. Surely the gold tree was also numinous, but rather than anticipation, Lucifer felt only disappointment. If His Majesty had no plans to enclose this one as well, there was apparently no mystical element to its fruit. He had been sure it must have held some great power...perchance even the power to create.\n\nWhen they reached the center of the garden, Lucifer once more beheld the gold tree. Beside it grew a white tree he recognized as identical to the Tree of Immortality that grew in Shamayim's courtyard.\n\n\"Freely you may eat of the fruit from any tree in my garden,\" King Elyon said to the man, then paused beside the golden tree. \"Save for one.\"\n\nLucifer's head jerked towards the King, but he quickly averted his eyes, grateful the King had been too engrossed in the man to have noticed.\n\nKing Elyon's hand lightly caressed the trunk of the gold tree. \"Do not eat from this tree,\" the King said. \"The fruit of this tree, the Tree of Conscience, possesses the power to reveal the difference between that which is good from that which is not...but with lethal consequences. If you eat from it, you will die.\"\n\nThe man gazed from the King to the tree and back again.\n\nThough Lucifer held no point of reference for death, he likened it to a return to non-existence, and by the alarmed expression on the man's face, he did as well.\n\nThey continued deeper into the garden, until King Elyon stopped in a large clearing beside a serene lake with numinous water that reflected the azure sky above.\n\nHere, the man named a select group of animals the Prince called to the garden. Summoning them in their own tongue, his voice mirrored the whispers of the wind as it gently rustled through the trees. While Gavriel and the other lieutenants marveled at the discernment of the man's choice of names, pointing out those that resembled the unknown beasts of the stone Cheyoth above the palace terrace―ox, lion, and eagle―Lucifer crept back to the center of the garden.\n\nHe stared up at the gold tree, his disappointment abated; King Elyon's proscription surely confirmed the mystical properties of its fruit. He gaze fell on the key-shaped knot in the trunk, a feature unique to this particular tree, as nothing of the like existed on the one in Shamayim.\n\nIf he didn't miss his guess, a real key grew beneath the bark.\n\n\"Beautiful, is it not?\"\n\nLucifer whirled to see that Michael and Mardikel had followed him into the clearing. He nodded, then smiled. \"Beauty does not begin to describe its essence, nor what in its very nature it possesses.\" He reached out a tentative hand. \"Its existence provokes an insatiable desire to comprehend its power; a power so...\"\n\nHis hand touched bark instead of passing through the trunk. \"I thought as much,\" he said, and his smiled deepened. \"This tree is numinous, visible on both our plane and the earth-kind's. Its twin grows in the royal conservatory.\"\n\nMichael glanced up at the sky. \"We should rejoin the others.\"\n\nLucifer followed his gaze. From the view on the Gaia, the sun drifted across the sky in a graceful arc. The clear blue faded into rich streaks of orange and gold as the sun prepared to kiss the horizon. With a sigh, Lucifer acquiesced, and they returned to the clearing just as the last of the animal pairs ambled through the trees.\n\nSadness flickered across the man's face as he gazed after them.\n\nStaring deep into his eyes, as though studying the core of his being, the Prince spoke, his voice soft and reserved. \"It does not do for him to be alone. He understands the longing of wanting someone to love, of the yearning to be so loved.\"\n\nKing Elyon gazed at his son for a moment, then passed his hand over Adahm's face. The man tumbled to the ground in a deep sleep. King Elyon knelt beside him, and as he touched the skin beneath the man's heart, the Prince gripped his own side. Blood spilt from the man's wound, and the King removed a bone, then sealed the flesh, leaving behind a small scar.\n\nHe then laid the bone under a grove of trees. Immediately another appeared beside it, then another, followed by a heart and a pair of lungs. Muscles and bones multiplied until they formed yet another breathing creature enveloped in corporeal flesh―a female earth-kind, also indwelt by a sphere of light.\n\nThe man stirred, and contemplated his scar, until King Elyon emerged from the thicket, leading the woman by the hand. Scrambling to his feet, the man stared at her in awe.\n\nThe King joined their hands. \"Male and female, in the image of Elohim, have I created you. United, you reflect my likeness. For this reason, man shall join himself to his wife and cling to her, for together they become as one,\" he said. \"Fill the land with your progeny, for this day, I bestow upon you lordship of this world; its ground, sky, waters, and creatures are yours to subdue and command.\"\n\nAs the couple retreated deep within the garden, engrossed in each other and their new world, the King turned to his son. \"On the morrow, we shall honor the completion of Time. Then, in the evenings, we shall visit them.\"\n\nLucifer shifted his stance, bewildered by Elohim's fascination for these sub-natural beings. He could not fathom why a spirit-lord, a being of such high ethereal status, would deign to fellowship with the likes of creatures fashioned from mud.\n\n† † †\n\nUpon their return to Shamayim, the King dismissed the rest of the host from the colonnade. As the Malakim descended the White Mountain towards the great woodland beyond the northern foothills, they plagued the Seven with questions concerning what the couple was like up close. Michael walked beside Mardikel and the commander, who remained uncharacteristically silent, while Sariel, Ambriel, Uriel, and Gavriel happily divulged all they knew.\n\nAs they reached the foothills and disappeared among the copses, the realm of the WoodHavens came into view―a village of rustic elegance suspended amongst the trees. The leaves softened the radiance of the palace, casting an emerald glow across the woodscape.\n\nOrganic bungalows spawned from massive trunks and limbs, adjoined by a labyrinth of bridges, decks, and stairs that spiraled the girth of wider trees. A large clearing in the heart of the WoodHavens provided a common area, and many Malakim settled amidst the tables and moss-covered chairs growing amongst the lush foliage.\n\nThe Seven ascended to their private bungalow, and Michael ran his fingers along the rail of the bridge as it swayed beneath a dappled canopy of leaves, feeling the smooth braided vines beneath his fingertips. Though he recognized the privilege granted to watch the creation of the new world unfold, now that King Elyon had finished his Time, he longed for the next adventure.\n\nMardikel must have read his thoughts, but he'd no sooner broached the subject of racing when Gavriel turned on them both.\n\n\"After all you've just witnessed, how can you think only of your foolish games?\" he asked, pushing open the door of their bungalow.\n\nTree limbs formed the bungalow's walls, their leaves creating a roof of flora. An elevated loft provided separation between the sitting area and the sleeping quarters, where seven ivy hammocks grew in a spacious half-circle.\n\nGavriel uncovered the fire pit in the center of the room, and the luminore briar erupted in flame. \"I shall never understand your fascination with rivalry.\"\n\n\"Competition,\" the commander snapped, speaking for the first time since they left the sub-natural world.\n\n\"Pardon?\" Gavriel asked.\n\nThe commander sank into the moss of his favorite chair and closed his eyes. \"Competition is a motivational tool one relies on while striving to pursue excellence,\" he said, mimicking Gavriel's loquacity. \"It is healthy and relieves petulance. Perhaps you should try it.\"\n\nMichael and Mardikel failed to stifle a chuckle.\n\nGavriel stared at the commander. \"What ails you?\"\n\nThe commander said nothing, and Gavriel, evidently deciding to ignore him, reclined beside the fire, animatedly chatting of the new cosmos with Sariel, Uriel, and Ambriel.\n\nMichael retrieved a new roll of parchment from the hollow of the tree beside his hammock. Settling in, he sketched the formation of the earth-kind, while the lieutenant commander spoke incessantly about the inherent workings of corporeal bodies. Michael had long finished and started a new sketch when the conversation turned to the sudden explosion of foliage in Ayden.\n\nMardikel plopped in his hammock and feigned sleep by emitting loud snores.\n\n\"Come now,\" Michael said, giving Mardikel a kick. \"You must confess the sprouting of plants and trees was astounding.\"\n\n\"My deepest gratitude,\" Gavriel said. \"There is hope for you yet.\"\n\n\"It was astounding,\" Mardikel said, rolling over defensively. \"When I saw it. But I dispute the necessity of hearing about the biophysical proponents of photosynthesis for all infinity.\"\n\nMichael laughed. \"I'll grant you that.\"\n\n\"There was hope for you,\" Gavriel muttered.\n\nWithout a word, the commander rose from his chair and left the bungalow. The rest of the Seven stared after him in surprise, then Gavriel shrugged and resumed his discussion with the other three lieutenants.\n\nShifting in his hammock, Mardikel looked over at Michael. \"Do you share in the commander's disappointment with the sub-natural world?\"\n\n\"It's of no consequence,\" Michael said, putting the finishing touches on his latest sketch. \"I doubt we've discovered every facet of Shamayim. And besides, I was thinking we should try racing through the caves within the White Mountain.\"\n\n\"Brilliant!\" Mardikel said.\n\nMichael rolled up his parchment―a scene of the commander brooding silently, Mardikel feigning snores from his hammock, and Gavriel bald, reminiscent of the time he'd drawn too close to the fire pit while studying luminore, an incident the lieutenant commander didn't care to discuss.\n\nA tranquil lull filled the air, mingled with the entrancing voices of the Seraphim in the distance, singing of the power and majesty of King Elyon. Lying back in his hammock, Michael imagined flying Shakar through the serpentine tunnels of an endless cave, and let the gentle rustling of the trees overhead lure him to sleep.\n\n### 7\n\nWith his gold cloak trailing the mossy floor, Lucifer paced a forest clearing as he waited for Isel and Groblik. Large, bronze muscherons grew at the base of the trees, and Lucifer stared absently at the leathery underside of their massive caps, before turning in the direction of the White Mountain. It would not be long before the palace was once more at full luminescence.\n\nChewing on a twig, Vafar leaned his broad torso against a great oak. His scorpion tail swished nonchalantly. \"You are obsessed.\"\n\n\"How can I not be?\" Lucifer snapped. \"That tree is the source of Elyon's power.\"\n\n\"You're just displeased he didn't give you the new world,\" Vafar said.\n\nLucifer stared in disbelief. \"What do I want with a sub-natural world? I don't begrudge Elyon his new plaything. If he wants to partake in such undignified behavior as kneeling on the ground and fashioning creatures from mud, then so be it.\"\n\n\"Then what ails you?\"\n\n\"He keeps it to himself,\" Lucifer said. \"Obviously, he does not wish to share power.\"\n\nIsel glided into the clearing, followed by Groblik. \"Why, may I ask, have you summoned us out to the forest in the middle of twilight?\"\n\nLucifer turned to her. \"I wish to know your opinion on what we've just witnessed.\"\n\nIsel stared at him, stupefied. \"You want our opinion on the new world, this Time?\"\n\nVafar spat out the twig. \"He's obsessed with the forbidden gold tree. It seems being second-in-command to Elohim is not enough power for the commander.\"\n\n\"What does 'commander' even mean?\" Lucifer retorted. \"Other than that I have been entrusted with this,\" he added, gesturing towards the Ko'akh. He drew the sword and stared at the trionicle adorning the center of the white hilt, surrounded by the twelve jewels of Shamayim. \"And exactly what does it do? What purpose does it serve? It certainly does not enable me to create.\"\n\nHe ran a hand down the blade, then issued a mild gasp of pain and surprise as white vapor seeped from a gash in his finger.\n\nGroblik looked at him in astonishment. \"I've handled various Khahi metals, and never have they\"―he searched for the right word―\"wounded.\"\n\nIsel cocked her head and stared at the sword. She reached out to touch the blade, but when her hand made contact, she recoiled in fear. \"That blade has slain a spirit-lord.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\" Lucifer asked. \"Who?\"\n\n\"I know not,\" she said, staring at the sword in awe. \"But I can sense its past.\"\n\nThe others merely stared at her\n\n\"I am not mistaken,\" she added coolly, evidently perceiving their doubts.\n\n\"Let me see it,\" Groblik said, then studied the sword as he held it level in both palms. \"This blade is not pure Khahi. There is something else. Some other element has been infused in the blade.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\" Lucifer asked.\n\nGroblik looked up at him. \"I could craft a Khahi sword just like this one, but even if the blade impaled you, you would feel no pain. At worst, you would be temporarily immobilized.\" Glancing back down at the Ko'akh, he added, \"Whereas this blade...could kill you.\"\n\n\"But I'm immortal.\"\n\n\"So is a spirit-lord,\" Isel added.\n\nVafar took the sword from Groblik and swished it through the air several times, then arched it again in a flurry of motion, crisscrossing it back and forth. The movements were so fast the blade appeared to leave a luminous trail as it reflected light from the dimming palace.\n\nLucifer gaped at the Centaur's prowess. \"How did you do that?\"\n\nVafar shrugged and handed him the sword.\n\nLucifer turned to Groblik. \"You can craft more of these?\"\n\nThe Ophan nodded.\n\n\"Would you be willing to do so?\"\n\n\"Whom do you wish to immobilize?\" Groblik asked.\n\nLucifer sheathed the Ko'akh. \"Do you not realize what we've just discovered? Elyon is not eternal; he was created by the reigning spirit-lord of Shamayim, whom he then killed, and whose throne he claimed as his own. Then he ate from the gold tree, acquiring the power to create. What do you think he will do to us if he finds out we know his secret?\"\n\nVafar shifted his stance. \"Have you forgotten that we just witnessed Elyon create a gold tree? What makes you think he didn't create the one in Shamayim? And if he didn't create it, who did?\"\n\nIsel tilted her head. \"Perhaps the spirit-lord killed by that blade.\"\n\nVafar shook his head in disbelief. \"So Elyon slew an eternal spirit-lord, the creator of the original gold tree?\"\n\n\"No,\" Lucifer said thoughtfully. \"It's the tree. The tree is sovereign.\"\n\n\"Pardon?\" Vafar asked.\n\n\"The tree is eternal. The source of all things. Ever-existing.\"\n\nVafar arched a brow. \"The tree just naturally existed, with no beginning?\"\n\n\"Perhaps a higher-advanced life form planted a seed in the Mistlands,\" Lucifer said, growing agitated. \"What difference does it make where the tree came from? The point is it was there, and from it, Shamayim came to be. And at some point, Elyon ate from it. He knows that tree is the source of his power. Thus, he denies us access to it. A creator is sovereign over his creation, and Elyon wishes to be solely sovereign.\"\n\nGroblik stared up at him. \"Commander, what if the fruit of that tree can kill you as it can the earth-kind?\"\n\n\"Doubtful,\" Lucifer said. \"It can kill a corporeal being. But we are ethereal, just like Elyon. It will give us the power he denies us.\"\n\nVafar ran a hand down his face. \"What if Elyon is eternal, and thus only he can safely eat from it? What if it is locked away for our protection?\"\n\n\"If it could kill us, he wouldn't have needed to lock it away,\" Lucifer said. \"He would simply tell us so as he did with the mud creatures, who, being warned, will obviously never eat from it. But we, who are ethereal, are barred access. There is but one reason for that, and one reason alone―so only Elyon can eat from it.\"\n\n\"What of it?\" Vafar asked, stamping a front hoof. \"Maybe it's his preferred delicacy and he doesn't wish to share.\"\n\nIsel tossed back her long lavender hair. \"If you are so confident of this, why don't you just sneak into Ayden and eat from that tree?\"\n\nLucifer shook his head. \"If the gold tree in Shamayim gave Elyon the power to create, then anything he creates using that power is naturally inferior to the original. I'm sure the tree in Ayden possesses enough power to maintain him whilst he is away from Shamayim, but I doubt it would be enough to make us creators. Only the original can grant that initial power.\"\n\n\"So what do you plan to do?\" Vafar asked. \"Break into the conservatory and eat from the tree so that you too can create? What is it you even want to create? Your own universe to rule?\"\n\n\"And what's wrong with that?\" Lucifer asked. \"Elyon apparently killed for such power.\"\n\n\"So you plan to slay Elyon, and take Shamayim for your own?\" Isel asked.\n\n\"I doubt it would come to that,\" Lucifer said. He turned to Groblik. \"You said you can craft swords? Blades that will immobilize?\"\n\nGroblik nodded.\n\n\"Then that's all we would need,\" Lucifer said. \"We wait until Elyon is visiting his mud-race companions, immobilize whoever is against us, close the gates, eat from the tree, and inform Elyon that he can continue to rule his little sub-natural universe, but that he is no longer the ruler of Shamayim.\"\n\n\"What of those who wish to remain loyal to Elyon?\" Isel asked.\n\n\"So be it,\" Lucifer said. \"They can join him in banishment.\"\n\n\"And what of us?\" Vafar asked. \"Are we to serve you instead of Elyon?\"\n\nLucifer sighed. \"You would be a creator. You could create an entire universe for yourself. You could create herds of Centaurs, or other creatures which to dominate and enslave.\"\n\nIsel tilted her head. \"But you would rule Shamayim?\"\n\n\"I think this sword gives me that right,\" Lucifer said. \"I am the only one who can fight Elyon if it comes to that. Elyon, too, has a sword. I'm sure its blade also possesses whatever lethal element this one does.\"\n\nVafar studied him. \"And you swear that you will always grant us access to the tree in Shamayim?\"\n\n\"Naturally,\" Lucifer said.\n\n\"So if you have the sword, why tell us your plan?\" Vafar asked. \"Why involve us?\"\n\n\"I can't do this alone. I need Groblik to make the weapons, you to train the Malakim in swordcraft, since you evidently possess the innate ability, and Isel to inform me when Elohim has vacated the throne room to visit the sub-natural world.\"\n\n\"And what if we don't go along with you?\" Isel asked. \"Would you just kill us, here and now? Do you not think Elyon would notice our absence?\"\n\nLucifer stared at her. \"You would rather remain loyal to a king who claims to be eternal when he is not, than to be a creator yourself?\"\n\nIsel stared straight at him. I share in your disdain for the corporeal. Though she spoke, her lips didn't move, and Lucifer knew he alone could hear her words. But if what you say is true, and the tree is sovereign and birthed Shamayim, then we will not be able to create an ethereal world, as you well know.\n\nLucifer's eyes narrowed. What is it you want?\n\nI want a throne beside yours. I want to be Queen of Shamayim.\n\nLucifer gave a slight nod. Very well.\n\nIsel smiled coyly. \"I am merely curious as to your response if one of the others do not share in your obsession with this fruit,\" she said, for the benefit of Vafar and Groblik.\n\nLucifer turned to them. \"Are you with me or not?\"\n\n### 8\n\nSituated along the northern length of the mountain summit, the vast great hall of the palace swelled with laughter as the celebration of Time ensued. Michael and Mardikel stood beside one of the food-laden tables showcasing a variety of cuisine made from Manna―a popular choice amongst the Malakim. From its petals, honey wafer chips were made, and honey meade brewed; from its seeds, water was roasted to percolate a hot beverage; and from its leaves and fruit all manner of fare were created.\n\nAfter selecting a few of their favorites, they approached the fountain in the center of the hall gushing with wine, and filled their goblets with its rich essence.\n\nThe King raised his chalice, and a silence fell over the room. \"To all that I have created, for it is very good; to the man and his wife, may they forever be happy and prosperous; and to my son,\" he paused, holding the Prince's gaze. \"For all things were created by him, and for him.\"\n\nThe host raised their glasses in return and drank.\n\nThe Prince raised his goblet, and a silence fell once more. \"To Ariel.\"\n\nThough none but the King seemed to know of whom he spoke, the Malakim raised goblets once more, echoing his tribute.\n\nThe celebration resumed, and Mardikel chattered about an obstacle course design while Gavriel and several others approached the Prince. Steering Mardikel in their direction, Michael followed, noting the Prince nod in agreement as the lieutenant commander spoke of the earth couple's aesthetic nature and ability for abstract thought.\n\n\"Eternity has been planted in their hearts,\" the Prince said. \"They possess an innate desire for communion with their author, as well as the capacity to reciprocate love, and the ability to discern truth.\"\n\n\"And what is truth?\" Michael asked, attempting to join the conversation.\n\nThe Prince turned to him, and the gaze constricted Michael's chest. \"I am.\"\n\n† † †\n\nAfter slipping unnoticed from the great hall, Lucifer and Isel descended the sloped woodlands behind the palace to the Sea of Glass. Vafar and Groblik awaited them on the terrace where the Seven had watched King Elyon's creation of Time. Before vowing allegiance to him, they had demanded Lucifer test his theory.\n\n\"Do not forget the tree in Ayden is inferior,\" Lucifer said as he stood on the edge of the terrace. \"I doubt it will allow me to create.\"\n\n\"But if it holds power, surely it will allow you to do something,\" Vafar said.\n\n\"Or it will kill you,\" Isel said sweetly.\n\n\"I told you it cannot kill an ethereal being,\" Lucifer snapped. He commanded the glass sea to show him Ayden, and the floor scryed over King Elyon's garden in the sub-natural world. As it passed over the Tree of Conscience, Lucifer ordered it to stop.\n\n\"What makes you think the sea can act as a portal?\" Groblik asked.\n\n\"The properties are the same as the veil we walked through to enter Time,\" Isel said. \"Though unlike the veil, someone must be on this side of the sea to open the portal.\"\n\nLucifer stared through the water at the golden fruit glittering in the sunlight, its luscious appearance sparkling with the power he knew it possessed within.\n\n\"What are you waiting for?\" Vafar asked.\n\nWithout replying, Lucifer stepped off the terrace. He fell through the sea, feeling the water compressing against him as it propelled him downward. Just as he felt the suffocating pressure would be his end, he found himself standing in the garden beside the gold tree.\n\nHe glanced up to ensure the presence of the Sea of Glass, and was relieved to see a watery window hovering above him. Turning back to the tree, hesitating only for a moment, his breath quelling with expectancy, he reached for a piece of fruit.\n\nThe touch sent a tingle through his fingertips and down his arm. Anticipation mounting, he pressed the fruit against his lips, and the tingling sensation spread across his face.\n\nWith trembling hands, he took a bite.\n\nA euphoric rush of energy surged through him, coursing through his ether. Every fibre of his being felt aflame, akin to his awakening, when he'd walked through the flames that had forged his ethereal body.\n\nHe glanced about, searching for something to test his power on, then strode to the riverbank. He stared at the rushing waters. \"Arise,\" he ordered.\n\nA column of water rose from the midst of the river, and Lucifer's eyes widened in fascination and awe. \"Take form,\" he commanded.\n\nThe column took on the likeness of the Shekinah as a dove, separating from the rest of the water as it spread its liquid wings and soared.\n\n\"No, one of those colossal lizards called dragon,\" Lucifer said, his ecstasy echoing in his voice.\n\nAt once the dove changed shape, its body transforming into a great beast with scales and claws. Its liquid nostrils flared and its bulbous, unseeing eyes stared at him, as though awaiting his next command.\n\n\"Be as you were,\" Lucifer said.\n\nThe water crashed back into the river as though it had never risen.\n\nShaking with excitement, Lucifer strode back to the gold tree, then vaulted upwards through the glass sea window. Once more standing on the terrace, he smiled in triumph at the others. \"Now that you have witnessed the power of an inferior tree, imagine what the original possesses,\" he said. \"So I ask you again, are you with me or not?\"\n\n### 9\n\n\"A new adventure awaits us,\" the commander said to Michael and Mardikel as the three reclined on the organic seating in the WoodHavens common area. \"Our most exciting escapade yet.\"\n\nAll around them, Malakim talked and laughed amongst themselves, save for Gavriel and the other members of the Seven, who were huddled by themselves in one corner, still recapitulating on the creation of the sub-natural world.\n\nBefore either Michael or Mardikel could question the commander, and much to the surprise of the entire host, Vafar and several other Centaurs strode into the WoodHavens. Each wore a satchels strapped across his chest.\n\n\"Welcome,\" the commander said, jumping to his feet and spreading out his hands. Then, addressing the Malakim, he called for silence. \"As you all know, King Elyon honored me with the Ko'akh, the Sword of Power. Now, I have the pleasure of sharing that honor with some of you, albeit in a less significant way.\"\n\nVafar unslung his satchel and set it down on the ground with a clunk. The commander withdrew a sheathed sword and handed it to him. Michael stared in awe as the Centaur performed a rapid series of crisscrossing motions, the blade flashing every which way as he arched it through the air, even tossing it from one hand to the other in a continuous flurry of movement.\n\nThe host applauded the performance, and Vafar gave a bow.\n\n\"As you can see,\" Lucifer said, with a wave at the satchel, \"Groblik and a few of the other Ophanim have been kind enough to fashion similar implements for those of you who possess the skill to wield it.\" Turning to Michael and Mardikel, he added, \"Care to be the first to try?\"\n\nMichael reached for a sword and pulled it from its sheath. Like the Ko'akh, the hilt bore the twelve stones of Shamayim, though it was bronze rather than white, and lacked the trionicle. Grinning, he sliced through the air. Mardikel took another, and together they attempted to emulate Vafar only for both blades to go flying through the air and clatter on the ground several paces away.\n\nLaughing, they retrieved the swords as the commander once more addressed the host. \"As impressive as Vafar's acrobatic finesse is, the potential of these swords goes far beyond flurry displays.\"\n\nDrawing a sword from the satchel, he unsheathed it and turned to Vafar. Michael watched in amazement as the two engaged in a sparring performance. Due to the prowess of their thrusts and parries, it was evident this was not the first instance for either of them.\n\n\"Now you try,\" the commander said, turning to Michael and Mardikel.\n\nMichael imitated a thrust he'd seen the commander execute, and Mardikel blocked. Picking up the pace, they flitted about the common area in an ungainly dance of thrusts and parries until Mardikel failed to block, and Michael's sword slashed through his arm.\n\n\"Oi,\" Mardikel shouted as the limb dangled uselessly at his side. \"I can't move my arm!\"\n\nTrying to stifle a laugh, Michael lifted Mardikel's arm, then released it and watched it flop back down.\n\n\"So glad you find this amusing,\" Mardikel said, feigning annoyance as he swiped his blade at Michael with his other hand.\n\nMichael felt a sweeping cold slice through his arm as the sword passed through it, and then it too fell limp. Roaring with laughter, the two Malakim proceeded to stab each other until Michael, dragging one leg behind him, managed to impale Mardikel through the chest. The Malak stiffened, then toppled over backward.\n\nAfter the paralysis wore off, several Malakim stepped forward and requested swords, all of which were identical, and the common area was soon filled with partially immobilized Malakim slashing at one another amidst their hilarity.\n\nAfter several rounds of sparring, Michael took a break and practiced performing a flurry. Though he repeatedly dropped the sword, he refused to give up, and with each attempt was able to hold onto it a little longer than before. His confidence growing, he glanced around the common area for the commander, and spotted him approaching the table where Gavriel reclined.\n\nThe commander held out a sword to the lieutenant commander, who merely arched a brow.\n\n\"If His Majesty had intended for us all to have swords, he would have given us all swords,\" Gavriel said dryly. \"And even if he had, I would not stoop to engage in whatever you call this preposterous play.\"\n\n\"Swordcraft,\" the commander said with a smile. \"The art of swordcraft, to be precise.\"\n\nA blade thrust through the chest of nearby Malak, and he fell backwards on the ground beside Gavriel.\n\n\"That is not art,\" the lieutenant commander said.\n\nStepping over the impaled Malak, the commander joined Gavriel at the table. \"A sport, then,\" he said. \"A competitive activity involving both ability and skill.\"\n\n\"Commander, look,\" Michael said. Stepping forward, he whipped the sword through the air in a crisscross of motion with nearly the deftness of Vafar.\n\nLucifer dipped his head. \"Well done.\"\n\nGavriel shook his head. \"This 'ability and skill' severely lacks both purpose and practicality.\"\n\nRecovering from his latest immobilization, Mardikel stared at Michael in awe. \"How did you do that?\"\n\nMichael shrugged. \"Practice.\"\n\nMardikel swished his sword through the air, and managed a few adroit arcs before the sword flew out of his hand and clattered across the table, knocking over Gavriel's mug of hot manna.\n\n\"And such wonderful ability and skill it involves,\" the lieutenant commander observed.\n\n† † †\n\nAfter several sparring sessions in the WoodHavens, Lucifer selected those he deemed possessed the most potential, and informed the rest that they would be given another opportunity at a later time. He then put his elect through another series of drills out in the meadows, while he and Isel walked amongst them. The Seraph surreptitiously quested into their innermost beings to sense their desire to please Lucifer as their commander, and to follow him as their leader. After she telepathically informed him of whom he should and should not keep, Lucifer then divided the Malakim once again. And as before, he had those who were eliminated hand in their swords with the promise of future auditions. He was pleased to note both Michael and Mardikel were amongst those she felt would remain loyal to him no matter what he asked of them.\n\nDuring the next set of rounds, he had the Malakim perform against the Centaurs. Knowing the difference in height would be quite a challenge, he used the drill to determine ranks, with those who eluded immobilization the longest awarded the highest positions.\n\nTo no one's surprise, Michael and Mardikel were the top contenders, and though a few others came close, not one Malak had beaten their time.\n\nGlancing across the meadow, Lucifer saw Michael preparing once more to go up against a Centaur, this time Vafar himself. A little ways away, Mardikel practiced at his sword flurry.\n\n\"Commander.\"\n\nLucifer turned to see Groblik coming towards him.\n\n\"Thank you for coming,\" Lucifer said to the Ophan. \"After this session, I am instructing the Malakim to rest for a while. But then they shall begin mounted sparring exercises against the Centaurs.\"\n\nGroblik stared up at him in surprise. \"Mounted?\"\n\n\"Naturally,\" Lucifer said.\n\nThe Ophan turned away and proceeded to walk amongst the Pegasoi grazing in the meadow.\n\nLucifer followed him. \"If we are forced to immobilize the other Malakim, they could simply fly away, which would mean only the Centaurs could pursue them. Worse, Elyon could create a cavalry of warriors with which to try to retake Shamayim. Granted, by then I too shall be a creator, but I have no experience, and may need time to learn.\"\n\nAs he spoke, Groblik patted a few pegasoi he passed by, occasionally reaching up and stroking their necks and muttering to them in words foreign to Lucifer. Now he turned to him and shook his head. \"They will not turn against King Elyon.\"\n\nLucifer stared from the Ophan to the pegasoi and back again. \"Pardon?\"\n\n\"Their leader is Chayah, the Prince's mount, whom I assume you realize you could never master. I've just quested towards several of them, sensing for any self-will outside Chayah's, and I guarantee you, they will not turn.\"\n\nLucifer ran a hand over his face. His numbers were too small to do this without mounted warriors. Groblik had already informed him that he sensed only three other Ophanim would join the conspiracy. And although Vafar had told him all the Centaurs were willing and now privy to the plot, Isel sensed none of the Seraphim would take part. Lucifer envied their ability to quest towards their own kind, discerning their inclinations without passing on their own thoughts. He lacked the ability to even speak telepathically amongst the Malakim, and could do so only with one who had the gift. Thus, he had to rely on Isel's ability to gauge the Malakim's dedication to him, and hope it was an accurate evaluation of their supporting his usurping the throne.\n\n\"There may be another way,\" Groblik said. \"There are other winged beasts, but they are free, wild, roaming deep in the forests across the river.\"\n\nLucifer stared at him in surprise.\n\nGroblik chuckled. \"Did you really believe you had subdued all Shamayim?\"\n\n\"What makes you think these other beasts will turn?\" Lucifer asked, ignoring the slight.\n\n\"The pegasoi are domestic; they enjoy the companionship of other creatures, and even take pleasure in having owners who ride them. The beasts of which I speak, the khimari, are feral. If you could break in their leader, and make yourself its master, the herd would follow.\"\n\n\"During the next training session, take me to the khimari leader. I assure you, I can break the beast in.\"\n\n\"Taming creatures that were created to be wild may arouse suspicion,\" Groblik said. \"Especially amongst the other Ophanim.\"\n\nLucifer considered his words. \"Once I've broken in the leader, how long will it take before the others can to do the same?\"\n\nGroblik shrugged. \"I would say two, maybe three more cycles of King Elyon's visits to the sub-natural world.\"\n\nFar across the meadow, Michael sparred against Vafar. \"Then we should be all right,\" Lucifer said, heading towards them.\n\nHe'd no sooner reached the dueling area when Mardikel rushed up to him. \"Commander, I can do it,\" he said, grinning proudly. \"Watch.\"\n\nBut before the Malak could perform his flurry display, shouts of cheer erupted from the Malakim. Pushing through the crowd, Lucifer saw them hoist Michael up in triumph and parade him around the meadow. Then his gaze fell on Vafar lying on the ground, a sword jutting from his underbelly. Michael had not only been the first Malak to impale a Centaur, but had immobilized the general himself.\n\nLucifer clapped his hands in formal tribute, a smile creasing his face. Beside him, Mardikel sheathed his sword and turned away.\n\n### 10\n\n\"How did you manage to impale Vafar?\" Mardikel asked, as Michael and the commander strode behind the others on their way back to the WoodHavens.\n\n\"It wasn't nearly as heroic as the others made it seem,\" Michael said. \"Vafar parried my last attack with such force it actually ripped the sword from my hand and I fell. But just as he reared up on his hind legs, I managed to grasp the hilt and plunge the blade into his underbelly. Then of course, I had to roll out of the way before he fell on top of me.\"\n\n\"Quite impressive, nonetheless,\" the commander said, and Michael felt a surge of gratitude at the praise.\n\nThey reached the bungalow, and though Michael had looked forward to resting in his hammock, Gavriel's newest obsession was lecturing them on the pointlessness of swordcraft. Despite Michael and Mardikel's attempts to persuade him to give it a try―for the lieutenant commander's broad frame and imposing presence would have proved a formidable asset against the Centaurs―Gavriel flatly refused.\n\n\"I prefer the strength of intellect and the power of knowledge to sword and sheath,\" the lieutenant commander had retorted. \"And would rather hone my cognition on wisdom rather than dull it at the whetstone.\"\n\nThus Michael eagerly embraced the next round of sparring sessions with the Centaurs, and once more they traipsed down to the meadows with the rest of the commander's elect.\n\nInspired by Michael's example, every Malak was determined to immobilize a Centaur, but found they were not tall enough to impale one through the torso, nor were they overly keen to position themselves beneath their hooves to reach the underbelly. Their determination, however, greatly increased their agility, and everyone's time before immobilization increased dramatically.\n\nSitting cross-legged on the meadow, watching the others as he once more recovered, Michael cheered on Mardikel as he sparred against a rather large Centaur. But as the duel progressed, he noticed the Malak backing away more and more, and feared he was growing fatigued.\n\nMardikel had reached the edge of the nearby wood, and Michael was dumbfounded to see him turn and run. The Centaur cantered after him, but instead of ducking into the woods, Mardikel ran straight for the nearest tree. Taking two strides up the trunk, he launched himself off, twisted in the air, and thrust his sword the chest of the Centaur.\n\nMardikel raised both arms high in triumph, grinning proudly.\n\nCheering loudly, Michael rushed over to him.\n\n\"Where is the commander?\" Mardikel asked.\n\n\"He headed into the forest with Groblik a little while ago,\" Michael said, then clapped him on the back. \"That was brilliant!\"\n\nMardikel smiled weakly as the rest of the host joined in congratulating him.\n\nThey resumed sparring, but no other Malak was able to immobilize a Centaur, as the latter could no longer be lured anywhere near a tree.\n\n† † †\n\nThe commander returned several sessions and a rest later, and Mardikel eagerly told him of his victory over the Centaur. Although the commander nodded his approval, Michael noted that he seemed unusually preoccupied. And not until the host was fully refreshed did he reveal where he had been by leading them deeper into the forest than they had previously ever gone. Ahead, the trees thinned, and the commander halted and turned to them, his eyes bright with excitement.\n\n\"Although the Centaurs have presented a challenge to most of you,\" he said, \"I have recently acquired something that will enable each and every one of you to defeat them.\"\n\nThe host's cheer was interrupted by a roar in the distance. Disconcerted, they fell silent.\n\nThe commander grinned. \"I have every confidence in your ability.\"\n\nHe then turned and led them out of the forest, where they stood on a ledge overlooking a large meadow. In newly erected enclosures of ivywood, designed and cultivated by the Ophanim, were the eeriest creatures Michael had ever seen. Their bodies were those of winged horses, but each bore the paws, head and mane of a lion, with a tail like the scaled body of a serpent, complete with lidless eyes and pointed fangs.\n\n\"Brilliant!\" Mardikel exclaimed when he could find his voice.\n\n\"Are you daft?\" Michael asked. \"They look horrid.\"\n\nWhile the rest of the host recovered from their shock, and followed the commander back onto the forest trail that led to the meadow, Michael remained on the ledge, staring at the morbid beasts with trepidation.\n\n\"Aren't you coming?\" Mardikel asked.\n\nMichael sighed, then nodded. Taking up the rear, they followed the path through the woods, but as they rounded the bend, an Ophan Michael had never seen before trudged towards them. Although known for their high spirits, this one gestured wildly, scowling and muttering. He halted when he spotted the two Malakim.\n\n\"Some creatures were not meant to be tamed,\" the Ophan snapped, then brushed past them and scurried around the bend.\n\n\"What was that about?\" Michael asked.\n\nMardikel shrugged. They had reached the meadow, and the sheer number of beasts astonished him. Hundreds of makeshift aviaries spanned for acres across the meadow, each containing thousands of the lion-headed, serpent-tailed steeds. The other Malakim gathered around the closest enclosure, staring at the creatures in fascination.\n\nInside, the commander had mounted a particularly large, black beast and cantered towards them. \"These are the khimari,\" he shouted so all could hear. \"As you can see, they are quite powerful and, I believe, will bridge the gap of disadvantage between Malak and Centaur.\"\n\nOnce more the host erupted in cheers.\n\n\"Unlike pegasoi,\" the commander continued, \"khimari are wild. But a few Ophanim have graciously agreed to assist you in breaking them in. Those in this aviary are ready to be mounted.\"\n\nAmongst the hordes of khimari, Michael spotted Groblik and only three other Ophanim. Each stood in front of a khimara, and ran a finger down the face of a creature from forelock to muzzle, muttering something indistinct. As the beasts calmed, the Ophanim fitted them with Khahi mesh-link bridles, then moved on to another set of creatures.\n\n\"Only four agreed to break them in,\" Michael murmured.\n\nMardikel shrugged. \"Matters not,\" he said, slipping through the limbs of the enclosure.\n\nMichael grabbed his arm. \"What if the little one was right? What if they are not meant to be tamed?\"\n\nMardikel stared in surprise. \"This is the only way to defeat the Centaurs. You wish for our victory, do you not?\"\n\n\"Naturally,\" Michael said. \"But―\"\n\n\"Then come on.\"\n\nAfter sizing up a large mahogany khimara, Mardikel mounted. A moment later, he found himself sprawled on the ground. He clambered to his feet, firmly grasped the reins, and tried again. Once more, the creature bucked him off. Several Malakim joined him, but all attempts to mount were met with the same fate.\n\n\"What are you waiting for?\" Mardikel asked. \"It's merely a matter of staying on.\"\n\nMichael chortled dryly. \"I can see that.\"\n\nReluctantly, he stepped inside the aviary, but as he approached a deep brown khimara, the beast flared its nostrils. Smoke issued from its mouth, and throwing back its head, it emanated a low, guttural roar.\n\nA chunk of flaming sulfur spewed from behind the khimara's fangs and slammed into Michael's chest. His tunic caught fire and he hastily smothered it out, then smacked at the flames that had ignited his hair before it burned away. For several moments his skin shone a burnished gold beneath the tattered shreds of his tunic, before fading once more to bronze.\n\n\"I don't think they fancy you,\" Mardikel said, laughing.\n\n\"The feeling is mutual,\" Michael said, suppressing his humiliation.\n\nWhile the Ophanim continued breaking in the khimari, the Malakim persisted in their attempts to mount. By the session's end, most could canter around the aviary. The Centaurs came to judge their progress, and Vafar praised Mardikel's agility on his beast.\n\nDiscouraged, Michael leaned against one of the limbs. Any time he ventured close to a khimara, it pawed the ground and assailed him with flaming sulfur. Although the commander had not yet remarked on his incompetence, Michael had noticed his look of concern, and knew his silence would not continue.\n\nHeading back to the WoodHavens, the Centaurs and Malakim trekked across a meadow near the White Mountain, pausing in a grove of Manna trees, whose fruit offered swift renewal of strength. Before the commander had introduced sparring, the Malakim had merely eaten for pleasure, but Michael noticed he now often found himself growing hungry.\n\n\"Uggh!\" Vafar spat a chunk of fruit and glowered at the tree in disgust. \"It's gone sour.\"\n\nMichael sniffed his own, then took a large bite. \"It tastes all right to me.\"\n\nMardikel and the other Malakim nodded between mouthfuls, but Vafar merely snorted and motioned the Centaurs towards their forest.\n\nWith a pensive gaze, the commander stared after them, then handed his untouched fruit to the nearest Malak. \"Finish up and get some rest,\" he said. \"Next session, you shall begin sparring in the air.\"\n\nLost in his frustration, Michael lagged behind as they headed towards the WoodHavens. Mardikel didn't seem to notice the slower pace, and talked of nothing save for their impending victory over the Centaurs.\n\n\"Oh, did I tell you?\" the lieutenant asked. \"Vafar said he plans on personally training me next session. He thinks I'm really good.\"\n\nMichael barely heard him. His own contact with Vafar that session had been when the Centaur walked passed him, scowling darkly at yet another failed attempt to mount, which served only to heighten Michael's feelings of ineptitude.\n\nWhat you do, do quickly.\n\nThe caustic voice broke Michael from his thoughts, and he turned to Mardikel in surprise. \"What did you say?\"\n\n\"I said Vafar is going to personally train me next session.\"\n\n\"No, after that.\"\n\n\"I only said what a relief it will be to finally be on their level.\"\n\n\"You said nothing else?\" Michael asked, glancing around, but it was only the two of them on the trail as the others were far ahead.\n\n\"No,\" Mardikel said, then laughed. \"Perhaps you've been hit with too much sulfur.\"\n\nMichael glanced down at what was left of his tunic, and knew he looked pitiful. As they resumed walking, he let out a deep sigh and stared up at the silver sky. Abruptly, he halted.\n\nAt first he thought it was a statue, for it stood tall and motionless as though carved of stone. But as he gazed at the figure in the lone tower, he realized it was the Prince, staring deep into the mist beyond the borders of Shamayim. Sorrow etched his expression, as though he were in mourning.\n\n\"What do you think distresses him?\" Michael asked.\n\nMardikel turned, not realizing Michael had stopped, then followed his gaze. \"The Captain?\" he asked, arching a brow. \"He's the Prince of Shamayim. What could distress him?\"\n\n### 11\n\nHigh above the meadows, outside one of the alcoves carved into the White Mountain, Lucifer watched Michael's futile attempts to mount a khimara. Across the meadows, the other Malakim performed mounted sparring exercises.\n\nFrom within the recess behind him, Vafar's voice broke through his thoughts. \"We must make haste.\"\n\nLucifer entered the alcove. Rich veins of amethyst branched out in various directions along the luminescent walls. \"Are you sure this cave is vacant?\" he asked, staring down the serpentine tunnel that led to underground springs of liquid jewels. Ophanim could often be found harvesting the crystallized foam that bubbled along the edges.\n\nVafar nodded. \"The next time Elyon goes to Ayden, we must make our move.\"\n\n\"No,\" Lucifer said. \"Michael is not yet ready.\"\n\n\"He will never be ready,\" Vafar said. \"The khimari know they are being tamed for ill-intent, and they sense in your lieutenant a reluctance to break them. He is weak.\"\n\n\"To the contrary, he is the best I have,\" Lucifer said calmly as he inspected one of the amethyst veins. \"Groblik tells me these jewels possess a power he has not yet learned how to tap into. He suspects each jewel offers a different―\"\n\n\"Mardikel is almost as skilled with a blade as Michael is, and he can ride a khimara,\" Vafar said. \"That makes him superior.\"\n\n\"Michael just needs a little more time.\"\n\n\"When you reveal your plan, he will not so easily turn as the others.\"\n\n\"Michael is loyal to me.\"\n\nVafar snorted. \"Your regard of him blinds you to the truth. He needs to be relinquished.\"\n\nLucifer whirled. \"No. It is my decision, and mine alone.\"\n\n\"Without fare, my herd will grow weak!\" Vafar snapped. \"And I notice that you too cannot eat. You will need strength to wield the Ko'akh if it should come to that. We cannot wait any longer.\"\n\nLucifer drew in a deep breath, loath to admit Vafar was right. He'd been keeping track of the rotations of the sub-natural world, which marked King Elyon's visits to Ayden, and timing them to synchronize with the sparring sessions. \"Not this session, but next,\" he said. \"Elyon would call it 'the morrow' by Time's standards. We will strike then.\"\n\n† † †\n\nWith each failed attempt to mount, Michael's ether burned with humiliation. Accustomed to receiving a nod of acknowledgement, or a word of praise from the commander, he realized he was lost without it.\n\nSo far he'd succeeded only in walking a khimara around the enclosure, lightly holding the reins. A far cry from riding. His face was streaked with dirt and ash, his hair was slightly charred at the edges, and his fresh tunic, as well as his breeches, were burnt and frayed.\n\nFraught with disappointment, he tried convincing himself he didn't care if he was eliminated and no longer able to compete, even if it meant listening to Gavriel ramble on about the geological structures of the sub-natural world for all eternity.\n\nThe clanging of steel diverted his attention. In the distance, Vafar and several other Centaurs engaged in an intense training session with Mardikel, mounted on his khimara. The lieutenant was on the offensive, and Michael's frustration with himself deepened at his inability to be at his comrade's side, joining in his challenge, or simply cheering on his impending victory.\n\n\"Lieutenant.\"\n\nMichael spun to see the commander on the other side of the corral. With downcast eyes, he approached his superior.\n\n\"Walk with me,\" the commander said.\n\nA silence fell between them, until finally the commander spoke. \"I cannot over-stress the importance of our next session, an all-out competition of Malak versus Centaur.\" He paused, and turned to Michael. \"Suffice it to say, I do not wish for you to be left behind, but I cannot postpone it any longer.\"\n\nMichael nodded numbly.\n\n\"You have skill, Lieutenant, far beyond the others. You possess not only the deftness of a proficient swordsman, but also the traits required of a great leader.\"\n\nMichael shifted his weight, dumbfounded by the unwarranted praise. \"Any skill I possess comes from your instruction.\"\n\nThe commander turned towards him. \"Failure simply means you've discovered what does not work. It's only when one ceases to try that failure becomes an obstacle instead of a catalyst for success.\"\n\nMichael nodded.\n\nThe commander smiled and clasped Michael's shoulder. \"Never give up, Michael,\" he said softly. \"I know you will not fail me.\"\n\nThough the commander's words initially filled him with confidence, by the session's end, Michael was still unable to mount. The other Malakim were headed to the WoodHavens to rest, and he kicked at the soil in frustration.\n\n\"Michael,\" Mardikel shouted, rushing up to the aviary breathlessly. \"I impaled seven Centaurs single-handedly in one round.\"\n\nMichael dipped his head. \"Congratulations,\" he said, though he knew his voice lacked enthusiasm.\n\nMardikel leaned against one of the limbs forming the enclosure. \"You must show it who is master,\" he said, nodding toward the khimara. \"Groblik said you need to will it into submission.\"\n\n\"I know what I must do!\" Michael said, harsher than he'd intended.\n\nMardikel blinked in surprise, then grinned. \"You're just not used to having to work at something like the rest of us.\"\n\n\"Pardon?\"\n\n\"The Commander favors you,\" Mardikel said with a half-smile. \"He always has, even if you don't see it,\" he added hastily, seeing Michael was about to argue. \"You've always excelled at everything―riding, racing, swordcraft―while the rest of us scrambled to keep up with you. Even while Vafar was training me, I overheard the commander talking about you. He said once you exerted your will over the khimari, you would prove once again that you were best. He expects you to win in the game against the Centaurs next session.\"\n\nMardikel spoke with such high regard for him that for a moment Michael could only stare. Though they'd always competed against each other, Michael never paid much attention to who won or lost. \"Well, the commander expects an awful lot, then. I can't even mount the beasts. Besides, I think you have successfully eclipsed me as the best,\" he added, respect in his tone. \"You were the one who impaled seven centaurs.\"\n\n\"Well, six,\" Mardikel said sheepishly. \"One tripped and fell on his own blade.\"\n\nMichael laughed. \"But who's counting?\"\n\nLeaning against the limb beside Mardikel, he stared out across the enclosure. On the far end, the khimara licked its front paws.\n\nMardikel punched him in the arm. \"Come on, let a comrade give you a hand.\" He slipped inside, approached the khimara, and grabbed the reins. \"I'll hold him; you mount.\"\n\nAs Michael drew near, the khimara struggled to break free, but Mardikel tightened his grip on the reins. No sooner had Michael placed his hands on the beast's back, the lion-headed horse reared up on its hind legs.\n\nMardikel yanked the reins, jerking the khimara to its knees. \"Now,\" he cried. \"Get on!\"\n\nMichael hesitated. Despite the strong disdain these creatures felt for him, and his own lack of regard for them, to see the animal strain against Mardikel's hold made him uneasy.\n\n\"Enough,\" he said. \"I don't want your aid!\"\n\nIgnoring the dumfounded look on Mardikel's face, Michael stormed from the aviary.\n\n\"You can't give up!\" Mardikel called after him.\n\n\"I guess my will is not strong enough,\" Michael shouted without turning back.\n\nStalling his return to the WoodHavens, he traipsed through the meadows. Pegasoi grazed around him, and spotting Shakar amongst the amber-metallic herd, he gave a soft whistle. Although her ears twitched, she didn't lift her head.\n\nMichael forced a laugh. \"Are you angry with me, then?\"\n\nShakar snorted in response. Michael took a few steps closer, but she trotted away.\n\n\"What are you jealous for?\" he yelled. \"I never rode one of those things. Not even once!\"\n\nEven more agitated than before, he strode away when something butted him from behind. He turned, and found himself face to face with his winged mare. She sniffed his chest, then his face.\n\n\"Believe me now?\" Michael asked, stroking her velvety neck.\n\nA stream of light caught his attention. A luminous white unicorn cantered across the meadow, a flourish of evanescent light trailing behind it. It paused to stretch its wings, and an aura of light danced from its feathers.\n\n\"The only one of its kind,\" a curt voice said.\n\nMichael turned to see the Ophan who had accosted him and Mardikel on their way to the khimari for the first time.\n\n\"She's beautiful,\" Michael said. \"What's her name?\"\n\n\"His name is Chayah,\" the Ophan snapped. \"He belongs to His Majesty, Prince Elyon. And he's not to be ridden by anyone but Prince Elyon!\"\n\n\"I was merely admiring . . .\"\n\nHe let his voice trail off, for the Ophan had stridden away.\n\n\"He should befriend Gavriel,\" Michael muttered to Shakar. \"They're both ill-tempered.\"\n\nHe stroked the pegasus despondently, lost in his thoughts. Surely his skill with a blade must account for something, even if only to rescue him from Gavriel's endless rants against swordplay. The commander's voice echoed in his mind. Never give up.\n\nThe soft glow of the palace highlighted Shakar's muscular physique, and Michael stared at her thoughtfully. \"Are you up for a challenge, girl?\"\n\n### 12\n\n\"Wake up; we're late!\"\n\nMichael jolted upright in his hammock.\n\nMardikel stood above him. \"Come on!\"\n\nMichael gazed about the loft, disoriented. The bungalow was empty, save for Mardikel and himself, and he realized he must have fallen asleep―a phenomenon that usually occurred only during Shamayim's brief period of twilight. \"Did you fall asleep too?\"\n\n\"No, I've been practicing in the common area with a few of the others.\"\n\nFrantically, Michael pulled on his boots, threw on a fresh tunic, then ran towards the door, strapping on his sheath just as Gavriel entered the bungalow.\n\n\"I need to speak with you both,\" he said.\n\n\"Concerning what?\" Michael asked.\n\nGavriel's voice was toneless. \"I do not presume you to be that blind.\"\n\nMichael stared at him. \"Blind to what?\"\n\n\"Your swordplay games.\"\n\n\"We don't have time for this,\" Mardikel said, tugging at Michael's arm.\n\n\"We can argue swordcraft later,\" Michael said, opening the door. \"We're already late.\"\n\n\"It's not doing any of you any good. Least of all you.\"\n\nMichael spun on him. He felt incompetent enough with his failure over the khimari, he didn't need the lieutenant commander criticizing him for sleeping. \"I can handle it!\"\n\nGavriel grabbed a piece of fruit from the table and flung it at him. \"Eat it.\"\n\nIncredulous at the lieutenant commander's bizarre behavior, Michael tossed it back to him. \"I don't want it.\"\n\n\"I thought as much!\"\n\n\"Have you gone daft?\" Mardikel asked.\n\n\"Let's go,\" Michael said.\n\nThe two raced out of the WoodHavens, but as Mardikel turned toward the forest Michael headed for the meadows.\n\n\"Where are you going?\" the lieutenant shouted.\n\n\"Go on, I'll catch up,\" Michael said.\n\n† † †\n\nFrom the edge of the Khahi River, on the far side of the forest near the khimari corrals, Lucifer stared at the palace jutting from the White Mountain, awaiting Isel's signal. The Centaurs were already there, and the Malakim were due to arrive soon. Vafar stood beside him, restlessly pawing at the ground.\n\nLucifer tapped the hilt of the Ko'akh. \"Once Elyon leaves for Ayden, I will go to the base of the White Mountain and close the gate,\" he said. \"Then I will return here, inform the host of what must be done, and we will besiege the palace.\"\n\n\"What do I tell the Malakim in the meanwhile?\"\n\n\"Have them start their game,\" Lucifer said. \"Their exhilaration will work in our favor.\"\n\nIsel's signal resounded over Shamayim, a melody on the horn of the Seraphim she had informed him she would play when King Elyon left for Ayden. Lucifer felt his ether pound in his chest. \"It's time.\"\n\n† † †\n\nIt took Michael longer than expected to find Shakar, as evidently the pegasoi had decided to wander to a new meadow in the opposite direction of the competition. As he flew over the riverbank, he saw hordes of khimari-mounted Malakim lined up in formation, and was relieved the contest hadn't begun without him. The Centaurs had gathered on the opposite side of the river, and an unbridled rivalry resonated in the air. Michael spotted Mardikel amongst the ranks on the front line, and reined in beside him.\n\nMardikel stared from Michael to his mare, aghast. \"You're going to fight the Centaurs on Shakar?\"\n\n\"No, I'm here to pick daisies.\"\n\n\"You always did have gall.\"\n\n\"I like to think of it as flair.\"\n\n\"You mean stupidity.\"\n\n\"She's better than your hairy, sulfur-hacking nag.\"\n\nMardikel rolled his eyes. \"At least my sulfur-hacking nag can defend me from the rear,\" he said. \"Khimari serpent bites immobilize the Centaurs.\"\n\nMichael glanced at the swishing serpentine tails. He'd known fighting on a pegasus would be a disadvantage; the leonine heads of the khimari aligned with their shoulders, granting their riders a wider sparring path, whereas he would be forced to maneuver around Shakar's neck. But he'd never even considered a khimara's serpent tail as an offensive asset.\n\n\"I'm not worried,\" Michael said, forcing confidence into his voice.\n\nMardikel shook his head. \"If you beat me on her, I'll immobilize myself for life.\"\n\n\"I hope you do well,\" Michael said. \"There is no one else I'd rather fight beside.\"\n\nMardikel grinned and reached out his hand. \"No matter the outcome, always friends?\"\n\n\"Always,\" Michael said, as they gripped forearms.\n\nVafar flew across the river and landed in front of them, shooting Michael a scowl of contempt. \"You play on a khimara, or you're disqualified.\"\n\n\"Only the commander can disqualify me,\" Michael said.\n\nA strong breeze swept across the river and several khimari pawed the ground. Shakar whinnied.\n\nVafar glanced towards the palace, his eyes searching wildly, then he turned back to Michael. \"The commander is not here, and I am in charge of this competition.\"\n\n\"Shakar can hold her own, as can I.\"\n\nVafar's nostrils flared and he stepped up to Michael and spoke low so that only he could hear. \"If you don't step down, I will personally immobilize you the moment you leave the ground, and you will be the first Malak to fall. And then the commander will see you for what you really are.\"\n\nMichael stared back at him, surprised by the hostility. \"Challenge accepted,\" he said, coldly. \"And where is the commander?\"\n\nWithout responding, Vafar turned away.\n\nThe breeze picked up, and the branches of the forest trees swayed violently.\n\n\"Something's not right,\" Michael muttered, staring at the trees. \"Where is the commander?\" he shouted after Vafar.\n\nWhen the Centaur ignored him, Michael reached for the reins.\n\nMardikel grabbed his arm. \"You can't abandon the competition we've been training for because of an aberrant weather pattern.\"\n\n\"Stay here if you want,\" Michael said. \"I know you've worked hard for this, but if Vafar won't tell me where the commander is, I'm going to go find him.\"\n\nMichael flew Shakar across the river and alighted near Vafar just as he was about to give the signal for the competition to begin. With his hand on the hilt of his sword, the Centaur stepped forward and Michael's unease increased under the cold gaze.\n\n\"Go line up to play your little fighting game―the both of you,\" he added, as Mardikel pulled up beside Michael.\n\nMichael never took his eyes from the Centaur. \"Where is the commander?\"\n\nVafar leaned forward. \"Fight or forfeit!\"\n\n\"Michael, please,\" Mardikel said.\n\nMichael's body tensed. \"Then I forfeit!\"\n\nIgnoring Mardikel's protests, Michael signaled Shakar to take flight. He flew towards the White Mountain, anxiously scanning both land and sky for any sign of the commander. As he neared the Sea of Glass, he had Shakar swoop down into the trees, and she alighted near the top of the tiers. Wishing to scry the sea for the commander, he urged the pegasus to fly down to the terrace, but she refused to descend lower. He gave the reins a gentle tug, but Shakar rose up on her hind legs in protest.\n\n\"Whoa, whoa,\" Michael said soothingly. \"I'll go alone then.\"\n\nHe dismounted and descended the deep recess. He'd just reached the terrace when far above, Shakar snorted and bucked violently. As he glanced up at her, a cold wind swept across the Sea of Glass, and he stared in alarm as his breath came in vapors.\n\nA vast shadow fell over the forest as though the light filtering through the trees overhead had been swallowed up in darkness. He heard the slow beating of wings and could just make out the forms of several massive creatures circling above.\n\nHis heart hammered a ceaseless staccato.\n\nIt was never dark in Shamayim.\n\n### 13\n\nOn the far bank, the chilling wind moved across the sea. The liquid glass froze, snapping as it raced towards him.\n\nMichael forsook the stairs, and raced to the nearest limb. All along the banks, the ice reached for the roots of the trees, creeping up their trunks. Limb by limb, he scaled the trees of the ravine, attempting to outrun the spreading ice.\n\nThe winged creatures flying above spoke, and the ground rumbled violently as their deep voices thundered in unison: \"Cursed shall you be, an abomination, a raiment of those that are slain; thrust through with a sword, cast into the abyss, a carcass trodden under foot!\"\n\nMichael gripped the closest limb as the tree shook beneath him. The rumbling dissipated, but the quake ruptured the ice, and a large fissure snaked its way across the sea.\n\nShards flew into the air as the sea erupted in a shower of shattered ice. Varied images reflected in the shards flashed before him―the earth couple lying asleep in each other's arms as they drifted on a giant water lily, the Prince writing a great tome in blood, a hand reaching for the Ko'akh, a crimson moon rising, and a man with haunted eyes, beaten beyond recognition.\n\nThen the last rain of shards fell back onto the sea. As quickly as it had come, the darkness lifted. Light streamed through the forest, and Shakar settled instantly.\n\nMichael glanced at the sky, but saw nothing.\n\nStill shaking from the ordeal, he remounted and flew to the palace. Even if he couldn't find the commander, the least he could do was alert King Elyon to the fact that something was dreadfully amiss.\n\nHe left Shakar at the gatehouse, and raced through the royal gardens and across the courtyard. But after bounding up the palace steps, he halted.\n\nWho was he to enter the presence of King Elyon―without being summoned? Perhaps it would be better to find the commander, and have him warn the King. He turned from the throne room doors, but as he made his descent, he paused, heart hammering.\n\nOn the ledge above him, stone ground against stone.\n\nHe turned around hesitantly.\n\nThe four ill-hewn creatures sprang to life, stone transforming into flesh, fur, feathers, and talons. Michael stumbled back in alarm. The Cheyoth towered over him, wings outstretched, sucking warmth and light from the courtyard as though absorbing it into their beings. Four pairs of glowing yellow eyes stared down at him, their voices thundering as one: \"Lamentation shall be upon you; fire shall devour you; you shall be brought down to the abyss, and shall die the death of those that are slain!\"\n\nThe massive creatures resumed their crouched positions of stone, and light from the palace shone through the courtyard once more. Staring up in shock, Michael knew it was they he had overhead in the colonnade, and who froze the Sea of Glass.\n\nAll hesitation now terrorized out of him, he rushed back up the steps and thrust open the throne room doors.\n\nThe royal dais lay empty.\n\nMichael's heart sank. Elohim was in Ayden.\n\nThe vast, white hall felt ominous. The Seraphim stared at him from the gallery. Michael paced the first level of the dais, pondering the consequences of being found in the throne room when King Elyon returned.\n\nWhy have you come?\n\nMichael whirled, but saw no one. The voice was soft, breathy, its tone eerie in its inflection. He scanned the court above. Isel traipsed around the gallery, her graceful frame disappearing and reappearing behind the columns. Her wings draped her body like a long, gold cloak, and from behind a cowl, she speared him with large violet eyes.\n\nIsel spoke again, her lips never moving. You should not be here, all alone.\n\nFear of breaching protocol outweighed his fear of the Cheyoth, and Michael resigned himself to wait in the courtyard. But as he turned from the dais, a voice sounded again.\n\nWill you not heed the warning of the Cheyoth?\n\nRather than accusatory, the voice now sounded distressed, frightened. He hesitated, mulling over the words of the stone creatures: An abomination, a thrust of the sword. Were the Cheyoth warning against swordcraft? Were Gavriel's objections valid after all?\n\nMichael tensed, recalling the incident with Gavriel and the fruit. Vafar could no longer eat the fruit of Shamayim's trees; none of the Centaurs could.\n\nMichael tore down the dais steps, desperate to find the commander before Vafar could perform the abomination, whatever it may be.\n\nYou will be the downfall of us all!\n\nThe icy words sent a shiver of fear through him, as he suddenly realized he'd been hearing two different voices―one warning him to leave, the other pleading with him to stay.\n\nHe glanced up at the gallery again, but this time his gaze fell on a Seraph with rubescent-golden hair whose eyes implored him in angst.\n\nWill you not defend the truth?\n\nMichael hesitated, his heart thudding.\n\nThe throne room doors opened, and a wave of relief flooded over him as the commander strode in.\n\n### 14\n\nMichael tore across the floor. \"Commander! I think the Cen...\" He trailed off as Vafar and the rest of the Centaurs followed behind him.\n\nThe commander stared at Michael in surprise. \"Why are you here?\"\n\n\"I need to speak with you,\" Michael said, lowering his voice. \"Alone. It's a matter of urgency.\"\n\n\"There is no time, Lieutenant,\" the commander said.\n\nThe Centaurs parted, as Mardikel and the other Malakim, all mounted on khimari, entered the throne room, followed by four Ophanim. An intake of breath echoed from the court as Isel descended from the gallery and joined them.\n\n\"Suffice it to say,\" the commander said, \"as I've just explained to the others, Shamayim is deteriorating. Elyon's obsession with Time hinders his ability to maintain this world, our world. As such, he is no longer fit to rule. In the best interest of all, I must take control of Shamayim, until such a time as King Elyon is competent to once again sit upon its throne.\"\n\nMichael's relief dissipated. \"The Cheyoth spoke of an abomination, they said—\"\n\n\"Elyon's neglect is the abomination,\" the commander interjected. \"He lied to us. He's not eternal. He only claims to be so that he can rule over us. His affinity for the mud-race proves it. What are they but stewards, glorified gardeners? Yet he befriends them, socializes with them. If he desired companionship, need he look further than the Malakim, conjured from mist, forged in flame?\" The commander stepped forward. \"Michael,\" he added softly. \"You must trust me.\"\n\nParalyzed with uncertainty, Michael glanced at Mardikel, who seemed bewildered by his hesitation. Clawing for wisdom, Michael tried to quell his fear as his frantic thoughts formed but one question: What is truth?\n\nAbruptly, his confusion waned.\n\n\"Shamayim's not deteriorating,\" he said. \"It's warning us.\"\n\nThe commander's eyes narrowed. \"You would be wise to remain loyal to me, Lieutenant.\"\n\nMichael fought to keep his voice steady. \"Please, Commander, do not join them.\"\n\n\"Fool! It is not I who join them; it is they who join me!\"\n\nDread raked through Michael as his gaze scanned his comrades. His body trembled with the growing fear that everything he held dear was about to be ripped away in one fell swoop.\n\n\"Listen to me,\" he said, his voice desperate. \"We vowed loyalty to Elohim.\" His gaze rested on Mardikel, and his heart threatened to explode. \"Please trust me on this.\"\n\nBut his comrade merely stared back at him in hurt disbelief.\n\nRaising his arms, Lucifer stepped forward. \"In the throne room of the Most High, I will exalt myself above his court. I will ascend upon the mountain of Shamayim. I will sit on the throne of Elyon, and I will be SpiritMaster!\"\n\nThe commander advanced towards the throne, but Michael drew his sword.\n\n\"I cannot let you usurp the throne,\" Michael said, blocking Lucifer's path to the dais. Though he realized the futility of immobilizing everyone in the room, if he could immobilize the commander, perhaps the others would come to their senses.\n\n\"This is not a game, Lieutenant!\" the commander said, drawing the Ko'akh. \"This blade can kill you.\"\n\nMichael hesitated. He would have thought the commander lying, but could see in his eyes that he believed his words were true. \"Then I shall defend the truth to my death.\"\n\nMichael lunged for the commander's chest. Their swords clashed, and the Seraphim erupted in incessant cries of \"Elohim!\"\n\nLucifer's block threw Michael back, and he fell against the bottom tier of the dais. He scrambled to his feet, dumbfounded by the strength the commander possessed.\n\nLucifer approached him, sword raised. \"I have tasted knowledge,\" he said. \"And it truly is power.\"\n\nThe implication of his words brought on a fresh wave of fear. Steeling himself, Michael attacked again. But he was soon on the defensive, and the commander's advance forced him up several dais steps. He felt the flames of the second tier at his back.\n\nThe palace doors crashed open, and Gavriel and the rest of the host swarmed the throne room. For a moment, everyone froze, then the hall erupted in mayhem. Those with swords assailed those without, and while most were instantly immobilized, a few managed to wrestle their attackers to the ground.\n\nUsing the momentary distraction to his advantage, Michael aimed a horizontal blow intended to slice through the commander's torso. But Lucifer side-stepped and parried with such ferocity that Michael's blade snapped at the hilt.\n\nMichael stared in shocked dismay at the jagged remains of his sword.\n\nThe commander laughed. \"Soon I shall eat from the gold tree that lies beyond the veil, and then I too shall be a creator...and the sovereign ruler of Shamayim.\"\n\nHe raised his sword just as violent sparks erupted from the second tier.\n\nA blinding light flashed across the throne room, and Elohim burst through the stones of fire. Flames engulfed the lower half of King Elyon's form, shrouding his son and spirit from view, and his upper body shone as burnished bronze. \"Lucifer!\"\n\nThose immobilized were instantly restored, and Gavriel and the other three lieutenants rushed onto the first level of the dais and bowed. In shock and shame, Michael dropped his broken hilt. Backing down the steps, he bowed with the others.\n\nLucifer stared at the King in defiance. \"I know the secret of this sword. It has slain a spirit-lord. And it shall slay you!\"\n\nThe commander lunged, but King Elyon raised his hand and the Ko'akh flew from Lucifer's grasp.\n\nThe walls of the throne room quaked as the King spoke. \"From the day I created you, you were honored above all others; you, who passed over the stones of fire, who walked in Ayden. Yet you have lifted your heart in arrogance, and corrupted your wisdom for the sake of power! Once you were perfect in all your ways, but now darkness is found within you.\"\n\nA beam of light shot from the King's outstretched hand, and formed a black manacle that encircled the commander's neck. \"Lucifer Haylel, Day Star, you are hereby stripped of your rank, and condemned for treason.\" King Elyon dipped the staff towards him. \"Thus, I cast you to the ground as a profane thing, out of Shamayim, the mountain of Elohim!\"\n\nShrieks of horror pierced the air as the commander and his followers were sucked into the orb atop the staff, then fell as jagged streaks of light through the universe.\n\nSilence fell over the throne room. Michael rose with the others, numb with shock. The flames engulfing King Elyon's form waned, and he took his place on the throne.\n\n\"Michael, son of Elyon, lieutenant of the Malakim, come forth.\"\n\nKing Elyon's voice seized what little strength Michael retained. His heart lurched with guilt, and he felt too weak to breathe. He should have foreseen the rebellion; he could have prevented it, had he listened to Gavriel, and heeded the warnings before now. Trembling, he stepped forward not daring to meet the King's gaze, and ascended the steps as far as the second tier, halting before the stones of fire.\n\nKing Elyon beckoned him closer.\n\nWithout lifting his eyes, Michael forced himself forward, half expecting to be incinerated by the flames. Yet as he passed through the fire, a cooling sensation enveloped him.\n\nThe King's staff graced Michael's shoulder. Two trionicle pendants appeared beside his original five. \"I appoint you commander of the host of Shamayim.\"\n\nFor a moment, Michael was too dazed to comprehend the King's words, but then a panic swept over him. He tried to speak, to scream, to explain that it was Gavriel who suspected, Gavriel who was next in rank, Gavriel who should be commander.\n\nIt was not Gavriel who defended my father's throne.\n\nMichael's head jerked up, and he was surprised to see the Prince standing in front of him, now holding the Ko'akh. He sensed the Prince had not spoken aloud, and knew by the finality of his tone that he was not to refuse his elevated rank.\n\nMichael's shoulders slumped, and his mind struggled to grasp all that just had transpired. Suddenly he realized the Prince was still standing before him, and that he wasn't merely holding the Ko'akh, but offering it to him.\n\nMichael's heart froze. Lucifer's words haunted him as he stared at the sword.\n\nHas that sword slain a spirit-lord?\n\nThe Prince's reply was quiet. Ay.\n\nMichael stared at the Ko'akh in horror. I do not want it.\n\nAs you wish.\n\nThe Prince stepped back beside the throne.\n\nStill dazed, Michael rejoined the remaining Seven on the first tier.\n\nKing Elyon dismissed the host, but Michael stood motionless, until Gavriel prodded him, whispering, \"You must lead us out.\"\n\nCrestfallen, Michael led the host from the throne room. Save for a few hushed whispers, the Malakim trudged to the WoodHavens in silence. When they reached the common area, all eyes turned upon him, shock and confusion written on every face.\n\nThey wanted answers, but he had none to give.\n\nForging through their midst, Michael clambered up to the Seven's bungalow. From the loft, seven hammocks mocked him. In a violent merge of rage and despair, he wrenched the ivy from the organic walls until the vines once belonging to the commander and Mardikel lay shredded on the floor. His breathing came in labored, shallow gasps.\n\nGavriel's voice sounded from the doorway, his tone caustic. \"What made you change your mind?\"\n\nMichael turned, confused. \"Pardon?\"\n\n\"Why didn't you join the insurrection?\" Gavriel demanded.\n\nWithout a word, Michael stormed from the bungalow.\n\nHe needed time alone. Time to think.\n\n### 15\n\nViolent shrieks swelled around Lucifer as he fell. Down, down he plunged through a chasm of endless depth. The choking odor of sulfur and brimstone constricted his chest. Far below, a cauldron of crimson light summoned his spirit, a dark inferno seeking to engulf him in flame.\n\nShooting forth red tendrils that snapped in the air, the fire crackled and hissed, reaching for him, calling him. Screams scorched his throat. His body pitched and contorted as he continued to fall. Ethereal skin caught fire, and layers of light peeled away, exposing the blackened vapors of his spirit within.\n\nIt seemed he would fall for eternity, in darkness and flame, when suddenly he crashed against hard ground...and knew nothing.\n\nLight streamed from a sphere of plasma suspended in the sky. Lucifer blinked, disoriented. How much time had passed since he'd fallen, he knew not, but his ethereal body had evidently regenerated from whatever damage had been inflicted when he'd crashed into the sub-natural world.\n\nHe pulled himself up from the ground, vehement fury coursing through him. \"Curse you!\" he shouted at the sky. \"Curse you, Elyon, and your throne!\"\n\nHe forced his rage under control, realizing the eyes of his troops were upon him as they rose to their feet. Their expressions of terror confirmed they too had seen the vision of their supposed fate as they'd fallen through Time. Lucifer shook off the memory of the abyss, and turned to address them.\n\n\"Hear me,\" he shouted. \"That shall not be our destiny!\"\n\n\"Your plan failed,\" Vafar said. \"And now we are banished.\"\n\nLucifer stared into the Centaur's haughty face. \"A mere complication,\" he said calmly. \"I will rule Shamayim.\"\n\n\"You're a fool,\" Vafar spat at Lucifer's feet. \"I warned you to relinquish him!\"\n\nWith a jerk of his head, Vafar gestured for the Centaurs to follow him into a nearby forest.\n\n\"Don't turn your back on me!\" Lucifer roared, but the general merely snorted.\n\n\"Vafar is right,\" Mardikel said, waving his hand through a large fern. \"We're banished, exiled to a sub-natural world. There's nothing for us here.\"\n\nLucifer spun on him. \"You dare call your king a fool?\"\n\nMardikel said nothing, but his eyes bled indignation.\n\nLucifer clasped Mardikel on the shoulder. \"You are hereby the commander of my host.\"\n\nMardikel stared in surprise, then sobered. \"Only because Michael isn't here.\"\n\n\"Michael betrayed us!\" Lucifer said. \"A betrayal I did not anticipate, but one which, in due time, I will rectify. As for you, decide here and now where your loyalty lies. If you desire to go sniveling back to Elyon, begging for pardon, by all means, take your leave!\"\n\nMardikel glared, but remained where he stood.\n\nIsel glided over to them. \"You made a lot of promises, Haylel,\" she said coyly. \"Do you intend to keep them?\"\n\n\"I'm rather preoccupied at the moment,\" Lucifer snapped, straightening his gold cloak.\n\n\"What is that?\" Mardikel asked, staring at something past them.\n\nLucifer turned to see a small rip tear through the atmosphere as the luminous blade of a sword peeled back the sky. The departing Centaurs cried out as they were lifted off the ground, caught in an invisible whirlwind. Hurled through the air, they disappeared into the gaping hole.\n\nAs quickly as it appeared, the rip sealed itself and vanished. A lingering odor of molten brimstone remained. Fear broke out amongst the Malakim, and the khimari reared up on their hind legs, hurling chunks of flaming sulfur into the air.\n\n\"Calm the beasts!\" Lucifer ordered.\n\nThe Ophanim made a low call from deep within their throats. But no sooner had the khimari settled than Groblik yelped. A black manacle now encased his ankle. The sound of a clinking chain followed, and the Ophan was yanked underground. One by one, manacles shackled the other three, and they too disappeared beneath the earth.\n\nPanic spread amongst Lucifer's ranks.\n\n\"Elyon is annihilating us,\" Mardikel shouted. \"Do something!\"\n\nScanning the sky, they awaited another attack, but several moments passed without disturbance.\n\nA smile crept over Lucifer's face. Eternal or not, Elyon was evidently fool enough to bind himself to the Laws of Time, which must have required a delay in their imprisonment. This made a future victory all the more feasible.\n\nIsel screamed.\n\nLucifer whirled, but the Seraph was unharmed, save for her pouty expression at having discovered her wings had been clipped during their fall.\n\nIgnoring her, Lucifer turned back to Mardikel. \"Order the troops to assemble.\"\n\nA plan had begun to formulate, one that would tilt the advantage back in his favor. Revenge would be meticulous, cold. Elyon would regret the day he refused to surrender Shamayim.\n\n\"This situation is but a momentary setback,\" he said, when the host gathered before him. \"We will retrieve Vafar and the others. We will defeat Elyon. And Shamayim will be ours.\"\n\nThe host mumbled amongst themselves, and Lucifer sensed he was losing their confidence.\n\n\"As proof of my power,\" he continued. \"I shall claim lordship of this world, at which time, I expect your full allegiance.\"\n\nLucifer turned to Mardikel. \"Keep them here,\" he said quietly. \"Do nothing until my return.\"\n\nMardikel's brows furrowed. \"Elyon gave lordship of this world to the earth-kind. What makes you believe you can steal it from them?\"\n\nA smile flitted across Lucifer's face. \"So little faith,\" he said. \"I am not going to steal it. They will give it to me.\"\n\n### # # #\n\n### Thank you for reading installment one of Prophecy of the Heir, which contains all seventeen installments in one volume.\n\nVARIOUS QUOTES BY KING ELYON AND/OR THE PRINCE (this list is by no means exhaustive): Jeremiah 31:36-37; Isaiah 19:16; Psalm 103:10; Ezekiel 16:8, 14,-15, 17, 20-21, 30-34, 60, 62; 18:23; 23:37; 33:11; Hosea 2:15, Zechariah 3:8-9; 12:10; 13:1-2, 7; Acts 14:16, 17:27, 30; Romans 5:12.\n\nEARTHLY APPEARANCES OF THE PRINCE: With the exception of the Phoenician widow, if the Prince appears to a mortal in the novel, the Bible said, \"And the LORD appeared to...\" or referenced the Angel of the LORD (which many Christian scholars believe to be a Christophany/pre-incarnate appearance of Christ). Since humans cannot see the face of God and live (Exodus 33:20), the author felt comfortable that any verse which indicated that the LORD \"appeared\" to someone could refer to a Christophany.\n\nTHE PRINCE AS CAPTAIN OF THE LORD'S ARMY: Jewish scholars believe the \"man\" who appeared to Joshua in Joshua 5:13-15 is the archangel Michael rather than the Angel of the LORD. This very well could be accurate as the Hebrew word in vs.14 sometimes translated \"worship\" is also translated \"bow down.\" (Two of many examples include: Lot bowing to the angels who come to Sodom, and Abraham bowing to the Hittites during a business transaction.) So Joshua may not have been worshipping him, but merely bowing to him out of respect. If the Jewish understanding is correct, then all mentions of the Prince leading the mortals into battle should be attributed to Michael, the \"spirit prince of the Jewish people\" (10:21. Daniel 12:1). On the other hand, many Protestant scholars (beginning with Martin Luther) and even some early church fathers (Origen) believed the \"Angel of the LORD\" and the \"Captain of the LORD's army\" were the same individual, likely because the \"man\" said the ground on which Joshua stood was holy and ordered him to remove his shoes (which the Angel of the LORD commanded Moses to do from the burning bush). While the author leans toward the Protestant understanding, no dogma is intended, as obviously God could have given the same message to the Angel of the LORD for Moses and the Captain of His army to Joshua.\n\nTHE PRINCE'S POEMS: Psalm 55. Psalm 22. Song of Songs 1:2, 8:6-7.\n\nCHARACTER NAMES: There is no \"b\" in Hebrew; the use of \"v\" more accurately reflects the original name. Other names have been given variant spellings due to numerous persons sharing the same name. Still others have been modified to remain consistent with the overall allegorical flow of the novel.\n\nTHE TITLE SON(S) OF GOD: Given to the angels in Job 1:6; given to Adam in Luke 3:38; given to all of Israel in Exodus 4:22; given to the royal descendants of David in 2 Samuel 7:14-16 and 1 Chronicles 17:13-14.\n\nBOOK I\n\nCHAPTER ONE\n\nANGEL CLASSIFICATIONS: Centaurs: the creatures of Revelation 9:7; Ophanim: the creatures of Revelation 9:14 (the term is from The Book of Enoch). Khimara: the creatures of Revelation 9:17-19. Cheyoth: the creatures of Revelation 4:7 and Ezekiel 1:5-7. Seraph, see Isaiah 6. Malak, Hebrew word for messenger, translated angel.\n\nEDEN: Garden of God. Ezekiel 28:13.\n\nYOUNG EARTH CREATIONSIM: There is a prevailing consensus that a naturalistic explanation of physical evidence = science = fact; and that a supernatural explanation of physical evidence = religion = fiction. Thus, either belief or unbelief in a Creator/God constitutes a bias in the interpretation of evidence. The intent of this novel is not to be a polemic against the theory of evolution. Rather, it is to show that the coincidences between the biblical accounts and the archeological, historical, and scientific evidences are far too numerous to be discounted as mere myth by people of sound reasoning. The fact that evidence supports the Bible does not mean it should be automatically discounted. The author merely hopes to inform the reader of this evidence to show that Creation Science is a legitimate field of study and not a pseudo-science as it is often labeled by those who believe in the naturalistic/Darwinian discipline.\n\nLUCIFER AND THE WATER DRAGON: Foreshadowing Lucifer's powers when unrestrained. 2 Thessalonians 2:6. Revelation 12:15.\n\nCHEYOTH QUOTES: Isaiah 14:19 and Ezekiel 28:8\n\n### The rest of Appendix A is available in _Prophecy of the Heir_\n\nADAHM: Author's variant for Adam, the first man.\n\nARAPHEL, CAVES OF: Hebrew word for darkness. In 2 Peter 2:4, Peter informs his Greek-speaking readers that Tartarus is where the angels who \"left their first estate\" reside while they await the judgment. Peter's Gentile (and Jewish-speaking) readers would have understood he referred to the level in the underworld where those who blasphemed God (or the Greek gods) dwelt. While Greek versions of the Book of Enoch also calls this location Tartarus, scholars believe it to be originally written in Hebrew and Aramaic. Unfortunately, we do not have an original version, thus the author of chose to use the Hebrew word for darkness as a substitute.\n\nARIEL: A poetic name for Jerusalem used in Isaiah 29. Used in this series to represent any and all who vow allegiance to the God of the Bible regardless of race, creed, nation, or tongue.\n\nAYDEN: Author's variant of Eden, Garden in. Though most people refer to it as the Garden of Eden, the Bible says it was a garden in the land of Eden. In Ezekiel 28:15, Eden is called the Garden of God, which would make Adam the gardener of God's garden.\n\nCENTAUR: In Greek mythology, a half-man, half-horse hybrid. In the context of this series, centaurs are the creatures of Revelation 9:7 (winged horses with the face of man).\n\nCHAYAH: A Hebrew word meaning life. Revelation says Christ returns on a white horse. The author decided on a unicorn as they have been portrayed in art as symbolic of both the resurrection and the incarnation.\n\nGAVRIEL: The Hebrew spelling of Gabriel. One of two angel names mentioned in the Bible (in the books of Daniel and Luke). The only biblical information we have is that he visited Daniel, Zechariah, and Mary; he once strengthened Michael; and he was helped by Michael when the demon overlord of Persia detained him for 21 days.\n\nHASHATAN: Hebrew term for Satan.\n\nHAYLEL: The Hebrew word in Ezekiel 28, usually translated as Lucifer. Means light-bearer.\n\nHAVAH: The Hebrew name translated Eve, the first woman.\n\nJEHUVA BEN ELYON: Jehuva is a variant spelling of Jehuwah, a proposed translation of YHWH (comparable to Jehovah but with a more similar pronunciation to Jeshua). In Hebrew, Ben means son of, Elyon means God Most High.\n\nJEHUVA EL ELYON: Jehuva is a variant spelling of Jehuwah, a proposed translation of YHWH (comparable to Jehovah but with a more similar pronunciation to Jeshua). In Hebrew, El means God, and Elyon means God Most High.\n\nKHAHI: A fictitious word for spiritual matter. In the context of this series, it is what King Elyon is composed of. It is pure, holy, unadulterated. From this substance, King Elyon creates Shamayim, the White Mountain, the palace, the Malakim, their sword blades, etc.\n\nKHIMARI: Variant spelling of Chimera. In Greek mythology, a creature with a goat body, lion head, and serpent tail. In the context of this series, they are the lion-headed, serpent-tailed horses of Revelation 9:17.\n\nLEAGUE: A unit of distance. In English-speaking countries, and for the purpose of this novel, equivalent to 3 miles.\n\nMALAK: Hebrew word for messenger, often translated angel.\n\nMALAKIM: Hebrew plural for angel. When used as an adjective in the novel, it represents angelic.\n\nMAURIEL: Fictitious name for a fictional female angel. The name is a derivative of Mary, in homage to the Blessed Mother.\n\nMICHAEL: One of two angel names mentioned in the Bible (Daniel, Jude, and Revelation). The only biblical information we have is that he is \"the prince of Israel,\" he rescued Gabriel from the demon of Persia, he was strengthened by Gavriel 3 years prior, he is an archangel and was involved in an incident with Satan over the body of Moses, and he engages in a battle that Satan wages against heaven.\n\nMISTLANDS: The fictional window between worlds where the portals for Heaven, Hell, and Earth reside.\n\nOPHANIM: A class of angels in apocryphal writings. The descriptions and personalities attributed to them in this novel are purely fictional.\n\nPEGASOI: Plural for pegasus, a winged horse in Greek mythology. They are luminescent metallic gold, red, and orange, giving them the appearance of being horses of fire per 2 Kings 6:17.\n\nRAPHAEL: Name of an angel referenced in the books of Enoch and other apocryphal writings.\n\nSERAPHIM: A class of angels in the book of Isaiah with six sets of wings.\n\nSHAKAR: An alternative spelling of Shachar, the Hebrew word for dawn.\n\nSHAITYR: Fictitious word for demon.\n\nSHAITYRIM: Fictitious plural for demon. When used as an adjective in the novel, it represents demonic.\n\nSHAMAYIM: Hebrew word for heavens. Can mean either the universe or the abode of God. In the context of this series, it refers to the abode of God. Note that while some scholars believe it refers to the abode of God in Genesis 1:1 and Exodus 20:11, the author believes it more likely refers only to the universe in those verses.\n\nSHEKINAH: Hebrew word for the Spirit of God.\n\nSPIRIT-LORD: Fictitious word for god. Can also be applied to a person of the Trinity, in the sense of one who possesses divinity. Example: Has this sword slain one who possesses divinity?\n\nSPIRITMASTER: Fictitious word for the Creator, the one true God.\n\nJC Lamont is a literary apologist and independent scholar of ancient history, mythology, and Jewish studies. She is a student of Koine Greek, and a contributing author for the Christian Apologetics Alliance. Her debut work, Prophecy of the Heir, won the 2007 FaithWriters Page Turner Competition. She is currently working on Volumes II and III of The Chronicles of Time series.\n\nDear Reader,\n\nThank you so much for reading D _awn of Shadows._ I really hope you enjoyed it! If you are interested in reading more about Michael and Lucifer, please check out the rest of the story in _Prophecy of the Heir._ I would love to keep in touch; you can find me on Facebook, or visit my blog. I look forward to hearing from you!\n\nThanks again,\n\nJC\n\n\"Standing apart from the works of JRR Tolkien, Frank Peretti, and Anne Rice, Prophecy of the Heir is a Lord Of The Rings-influenced work of literary apologetics that reframes actual biblical events in a fantasy-inspired narrative of spiritual warfare.\"\n\n―Maryann Spikes, president of The Christian Apologetics Alliance\n\n\"This well-written page-turning novel tells the story of the events of the Bible, seen from the point of view of the angels. JC Lamont has created characters of real depth and sympathy amongst the angelic host. Prophecy of the Heir is an enjoyable and edifying read.\"\n\n―Paul Taylor, Creation Today\n\n\"Biblical fiction that reads like fantasy...the movie and video game are not far behind.\"\n\n―Rick Marschall, co-author of The Secret Revealed\n\n\"This masterpiece of literary apologetics is a behind-the-scenes look at the demonic strategy behind biblical history, where the stakes are not only for the human soul, but for the ultimate culmination of God's redemptive plan.\"\n\n―Robert Mullin, Associate Managing Editor, Creation Research Society Quarterly,\n\nand author of Bid the Gods Arise\n\n\"JC Lamont takes readers on an imaginative, richly detailed journey between time and eternity in this biblical fantasy epic.\"\n\n―RJ Larson, author of the Books of the Infinite series\n\n\"Reading Prophecy of the Heir has changed the way I read the Bible. JC Lamont has managed to bring Bible history alive and to illuminate the battle for our souls that is going on in the hidden places while telling the very compelling story of Michael, the Archangel. Bravo!\"\n\n―Joyce Magnin, award-winning author of The Bright's Pond novels,\n\nand Harriet Beamer Takes the Bus\n\n\"Vivid writing that takes your senses by storm and won't let go.\"\n\n―Lynn Rush, author of Wasteland and Awaited\n\n\"JC Lamont is incredibly talented. Her imagination, creative ability, and intelligence shines through in every word, and the buildup makes the reader want to turn the page. It is a very rare author who can paint the scene so well that I literally see it in my mind. She marries fantasy and history in an amazing way, capturing the essence of truth that is both believable and uplifting.\"\n\n―Deb Porter, Editor, FaithWriters Magazine\n\n\"JC Lamont brilliantly retells the Bible in a way that gives new meaning to every well-known story. Satan's attempt to overthrow God is no longer just another old tale, but an experience for each and every reader. This is the book that deepens your faith while keeping you on the edge of your seat. This is the book that allows you to understand what biblical characters might have felt. This is the book that we have been waiting for.\"\n\n―Miriam Thurber, Teen Columnist for The Daily Star\n\n### Read the rest of the story (installments one through seventeen) in\n\n### Prophecy of the Heir\n\n### Available in Print and Ebook\n\nCOMING SOON\n\n## Volume II of The Chronicles of Time\n\n### Omen of Light\n\n### The first installment of Covenant of Blood—available for FREE\n\n### Draught of Death\n\n### The second installment of Covenant of Blood—available for FREE\n\n", "meta": {"pile_set_name": "BookCorpus2"}}
{"text": "\n\nBy Santosh Jha\n\n**\n\nCopyright 2017 Santosh Jha\n\nSmashwords Edition\n\n**\n\nA Big Thanks... You have already enjoyed 28 of my eBooks. They all, be it fiction or non-fiction, have been my humble endeavor to empower your consciousness for life-living wellness and personal excellence. This 29th eBook is also aimed at continuing to write on the core issues of 3Cs – Consciousness, Cognition and Causality, as I stick to my belief that holistic, integrative and assimilative knowledge of the 3Cs alone can open the doors of wellness and excellence in a world of chaos, conflict and confusion, we live in. There is nothing better than living a self-aware life with poise of purpose...\n\n**\n\nLicense Notes\n\nThank you for downloading this free eBook. Although this is a free book, it remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be reproduced, copied and distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes. Thanks for your support.\n\n**\n\nPreface:\n\nAcceptance, the wise say, is the genius within, an intellectualism and intelligence, core and critical for life-living wellness and excellence. However, acceptance is possible, only when there is this golden eligibility of 'Higher Consciousness' – the state of awareness of 'self' or 'I', which has the ability to see through all our acts and behaviors with objectivity, logicality and equanimity of neutrality. No other life-living realism, except 'Love' needs this art and science of 'acceptance' more as, true love is not visceral 'auto-mode-availability', as most see and accept, but an 'evolved equity' of higher consciousness...!\n\nThe wise have warned –\n\n\"The sub-conscious mind is a stupid audience; applauding even the quirkiest of performances by our 'conscious mind', at the chaotic arena of life; especially in love. People, as 'theatre' of all joys and pains need to be wary of the 'spectator-frenzy', coaxing you to write 'scandalous-scripts' of life-dramas. Guard against passion, especially, when you are in love's compassion...\"\n\n**\n\n... At The Very Outset!\n\nThe scientifically and logically inclined people have said it and most have gleefully admitted it that – Falling in love is a beautifully enticing trap set up by nature and human visceral wired behavioral choice is designed such a way that even this innate 'fight and flight' mode ingenuity does not help people in creating a 'diversion' from the 'trap'...!\n\nMeans; there is a definitive Game Plan of nature, which it has wired in our body-mind mechanism and what we see and accept love as, is nature's own machination, unveiling in mystically magical ways, making most of us fall in line with its diktat. Probably, this seems to be why, the popular expression about incidence of love is – 'To Fall In Love...!' It is like, finally falling in the 'trap' and meeting the inevitability of nature's wired realism...!\n\nScience confirms, human visceral wired behavioral choice is designed such a way that even this innate 'Fight And Flight' mode ingenuity does not help people in creating a 'diversion' from this 'trap' of nature. Science confirms, not only humans, but many species often compromise with their innate drive for 'survival', falling for the most powerful drive of love. It is simply because, nature means business and it is concerned only about business of procurement – incessant reproduction...!\n\nThis means, what we feel so great about and what we never fail to celebrate with all possessions of lifetime, is essentially a sort of wired or instinctive optionlessness for most humans – men or women. So, essentially, what most of us popularly accept love as is an optionless incidence of inevitability; yet we assign and align all our energies, not to 'free' ourselves from this 'trap', but enjoy and celebrate this nature's trap!\n\nThe best way to free oneself from this nature's trap is to understand the mechanism and process of love and its incidence. Most of us however, fall for the trap, well before our consciousnesses evolve to a stage, where this desirability of understanding love installs itself in our minds...\n\nIt is strange but seems very true – Love happens when body-mind dualism plays at its worst best and we are in most precarious positioning of righteous judgment. Still, humanity has evolved to 'celebrate' this confusion, chaos and conflict of life and living. This is populism playing at its worst best for humanity. And, this emanates from 'erroneous' understanding of process and mechanism of idea and reality called Love...\n\nThe core idea is – Love is a passive incidence and nobody can be sure about it because, it is the way our body-mind mechanism works for us. In some weird sense, this very sense of 'I' is a passive incidence for most of us; though we never admit it.\n\nHowever, such a state of 'I', our consciousness, is a very calamitous proposition. This is the state, which makes us see and accept, how powerful and intense is the trap of nature, installed in us, deep inside our body and mind mechanisms. This is the situation, we need to be cautious of and recall all our conscious elements to stay warned and decisive...\n\nLove, as most of us popularly see and accept is not a celebration idea and realism. It is a trap and a trap should never be celebrated but conscious ideas must be evolved to come out of it...\n\nWhat humans, especially young men and women need is 'compassion' and not 'passion'. What we all need for life-living wellness and excellence is not love but empathy of thoughts and equanimity of consciousness. This alone makes us endowed and empowered to rise above 'drives' and 'visceral traps', to consciously choose the path of righteous options. We have little choice – We all need poise and control, never indecisive optionlessness of body and mind...\n\nAs the wise say – 'What we desire is what we 'want' but all we want, is not what we 'need'. This is nature's trap working within us. It has installed desires deep within us and this very potentially powerful trap is our 'wants'. Love is some stupid 'want', most of us seldom 'need'. What we need and what we should want is – compassion, equanimity, amicability and objective thoughtfulness of logical discretion...\n\nThough, this powerful and universally transcendental desire to fall in love is a sort of wired or instinctive optionlessness for most humans – men or women; love happens to be a cumulative mechanism of multiplicity of brain processes, which itself is a complex cooperative function of various brain parts. That is probably why science is yet to decipher the 'singular code' of incidence of love and bio-chemistry of love...\n\nYet, there are some good scientific revelations, tumbled down after some researches, which definitively land us in better preparedness and readiness of incidence of love. We all must know it and keep into account. To know is to journey the road to empowerment...\n\nAccording to study conducted at Rutgers University, USA, there is a 'factsheet', which we all must know and factor in, in love –\n\nThe study reveals: \"How our brain decides, we are in love\" –\n\n  * 55% of the role is played by body language; this means a brain detects the activities of body movement and decides whether it has received the signals of love or not...\n\n  * 38% of the decision to be in love is contributed by the voice—its tone and change in frequency...\n\n  * 7% is the reaction to a lover's statement or choice of words...\n\nHow beautifully mystical yet so given to confusion and chaos; as is common in love matters! We all may be very enthusiastic about saying and listening the pair of words – 'I Love You', but the study shows, and we all have little trouble accepting it, that words often fail or do not matter much in love matters of hearts...!\n\nThis acceptance about futility of words (Only 7% weight) also opens up the big door of confusion about love and its incidence. If 55% of love signals are wordless and only signs, there are bound to be 'wrong-signaling' and 'misreading'. There is also this question as how good our brain is in 'reading' and 'writing' these wordless signs. Moreover, when even words can be used as 'effective tools' of deception and hypocrisy in love, how easy it can be for anyone, who wishes to fake love and master his or her craft of deception in love. Many do it, more people are mastering this 'craft' and we all are very careful about deception in love...\n\nIf whopping 93 percent of 'love-signs' are without words, only 'sight and sound', is it not very easy for ingenious men and women to masquerade this whole economics and chemistry of love...!\n\nThis however is not the end of trouble for lovers. Love is more mystical to discount any lesser troubles. According to the study by Arthur Arun, on an average, the mind of a person takes between 90 seconds to 4 minutes to determine whether it is struck by love or not.\n\nNow, we all know, our brain takes 20 minutes to register that our stomach is full and that is why we often overeat; then how can one be very sure that what his or her brain has decided in less than five minutes about love, is right? This is stupidly mystical...\n\nIf we accept that 93 percent of signals that our brain depends on for judgment about 'incidence of love' is 'sight & sound' and not words, which we all are also not very good at, then we all are inclined to accept that this must be a tough task for our brains to test the validity of such 'abstract signs'. Naturally, we imagine, such difficult judging business must take some good hours and days, if not weeks and months...!\n\nWe all know that science has proved that love emotions are handled by different parts of the brain as love involves three stages – Lust, Attraction & Attachment. All three stages involve different sets of hormones and therefore are handled by different parts of our brain. Naturally, this cooperative and symmetry business of 'well-aligned' decision-making should ideally be a long-process, assigned some good hours, if not days and weeks...!\n\nHowever, what the scientific study suggests is that our brain decides this all-important 'love question' in less than five minutes! And, we have reasons to believe this study as we all know and accept that we all are huge 'Mega Entrepreneurs' in 'judging business'. We take less than five seconds in judging people and most crucial aspects about our choices. We may not accept it but we do it very often...!\n\nLet us also know a bit about how our brain decides and arrives at what choices we make in our lives. Let us have a peek-o-boo at how our brain decides –\n\nScience says – Our brains appear wired in ways that enable us, often unconsciously, to make the best decisions possible with the information we're given. In simplest terms, the process is organized like a Court Trial. Sights, sounds, and other sensory evidence are entered and registered in sensory circuits in the brain. Other brain cells act as the brain's 'jury,' compiling and weighing each piece of evidence. When the accumulated evidence reaches a critical threshold, a judgment, a decision is made.\n\nIf we accept that decision-making by our brain is like a 'court-trail', we then must be aware how our courts work. The core hypothesis of all judging business is – Even if hundred culprits go scot-free, an innocent must never be sentenced for culpability. This then means – Judging and decision-making about culpability is a serious thing and therefore must be assigned good amount of judicious time and space...!\n\nHowever, study shows, we are wired to make decisions about love matters only in less than five minutes and that too based on 93 percent such 'evidences', which are abstract, not tangible. This somehow points at as why 'court-trail' of mind decisions in love matters is not good and needs sound evidences...!\n\nNow, you decide...! And, think about the 'judicial process', your brain must adopt and accept for 'delivering judgments'. Let us all be 'good judge' and follow golden principles of judgeship. Success of love and in love is not only about individual choice. Rather, successes of love are crucial for social and all collective wellness. When love succeeds, life succeeds...!\n\n**\n\n... Innocence: The Intellectualism Of Love\n\nTrue love does not look for ends of life. It believes in the simple fact that life is one endless drive and on the way look for no signposts to reach anywhere...the joy and satisfaction of journey is more important than the nobility and utility of destination. There is no need to reach.\n\nBe on an endless journey and make it your destination where you tire. But always remember to travel with love and compassion in heart. Why...?\n\nBecause, when love and compassion are with you, the path and the journey becomes the theatre of infinite song and dance. When song and dance is with you, journeys are full of incessant joy and satisfaction. If you reach the stage; if ever there happens to be one, you will automatically lose the question of destination. The question of meaning of life and its purpose will be lost.\n\nLove and compassion makes us understand the futility and redundance of the intellectual concerns of life's larger purpose and the material desire of life's acquisitions. Love and compassion makes us understand that the true wisdom is not in reaching but in travelling well – with peace and poise.\n\nThe simple and innocent realism is – There is no destination and reaching. There is only journey. Intelligence cannot accept this realism, only innocence can. Love and compassion and its accompanying Innocence Is The Greatest Intellectualism, it is the best acquisition, if one defines life's purpose in terms of acquisition and possessions.\n\n... Important however is – never look for and accept love as 'bachelor', in single status. Always insist on seeing and accepting with his wife, the Compassion. Love without Compassion is calamitous. Populist choice for passionate love among young men and women may install instant and gratifying joy but it surely dissipates soon. Populist cognitive confusion about love emanates out of this refusal to institute compassion to its rightful place in intimacies.\n\nThe universe has been created and has evolved in Couple-Causality. Love too has a beautifully magnificent partner of Compassion. The couple must remain together, forever...!\n\n**\n\n...For Finality Of Fruition\n\nIt is not that people await good times, the good times also await good people to come and hoist the potential seeded in the soil of future. Good words also wish for good readers, to be in reception of and be in linearity of the innocent intent, which ride on the shoulders of the words, for the finality of their fruition...\n\n**\n\n... On Navigation And Expression Of Intent\n\nThere has to be a humble admittance – Any word, however well meant and well spelt, is a possible suspect of misinterpretation. There is a simple reason. People are in different consciousnesses and culturally as well as personally inclined to a specific value-summation of utilities. As a writer, it is a huge temptation to take liberties, with not only imaginations but also with the words, as against their common and popular use. Do kindly accept my latitude with language and personal coinages of words, as I understand, many times, they may not conform to popular usages. I share with you whatever is part of my consciousness. All wisdoms say, what stays with you is what sinks in. Wisdom is what we internalize. I share with you whatever I have internalized in my life. This may not be mainstream stuff; but may have utility in some meaningful way. I believe, as a reader, you shall enjoy this novelty and pleasant awkwardness of the writing.\n\n**\n\nThanks For Your Magnanimity, The First Chapter Begins...\n\nCHAPTER 1\n\nHow To Be Sure, When Love Happens or Hits You or What Does It\n\nFeel To Be In Love? And Most Importantly, Is That 'True Love'...!\n\nA psychologist says, 'Love hits you, when you expect it the least.' May be, it is like the bird flying over you drops its poop on your dress, when you wear the costliest suit for the most crucial appointment of life'.\n\nThere sure is no dearth of sayings, when it comes to love. World over, there are more 'offered knowledge' about love than rocket science. The reality is – Everyone knows something about love but nobody knows absolutely or 'enough' about it! That is why, even when over-loads of wisdom about love are already there, fresh wisdom is always pouring in and surely, there are always the easy takers as probably, nobody is sure, how to be sure about what love is, how to be sure when it happens and how does it feel when love happens, to stand certain. And, as they all need answers, 'wise words' are in over supply...\n\nThere seems no global research or statistical data about what percentage of people want to know – 'How to be sure, when love happens or hits you' – This Incidence of Love; still from practical experiences, we all can say – 'So many of them, or probably everybody...!'\n\nLet us first list out why this confusion remains about 'incidence' of love and then very humbly attempt to look out, whether a probable answer can be eked out. First the confusion –\n\nPsychologists say, 'There are different types of love and usually, some shade of love happens and we get confused that 'incidence' of love has happened but it is not'. And then, we say, 'I thought it was love, but it wasn't'. Or we say, 'I thought I loved him/her but I realized soon, it was something else, not love.'\n\nThat is probably why most often, people sort of 'qualify' love by asking – 'What is True Love and how to ascertain true love has happened?'\n\nExplaining the confusion, the psychologists also say, 'No doubt, often, between a man and a woman, some mutual positive erotic transference happens but it is not love. It is just a shade of it; or a type of it'.\n\nThe wise of humanity, the philosophers and litterateurs have warned us – 'There is a huge difference between acting in love, being in love and actually being the love itself...!' This means, even love has hierarchy of incidence. One may hit the love but it may only be the base of the love pyramid. Means, the higher echelons of love need to be escalated and move to, to arrive at the finality of love...! Tough...! Very tough... this love...! We need to remember this crucial point.\n\nFrom the perspective of science too, confusion about love is a reality as from brain point of view, there are complex mechanisms, which happen in brain, when we fall in love and it is surely very difficult to say, which part of love was just lust, passive transference, simple appreciation, recognition of commonality, etc.\n\nOkay, difficult it may be to be sure what love is and how does it feel to be in love, when it finally happens, still, there must be some exclusive or a cumulative sign, which we may decipher as 'Precipitative Positioning' of love. Means, there may well be many shades and types of love but there must be some point, or some nodal space, where all such shades and types merge and 'Compactively' announce the 'Incidence' of True Love...!\n\nCan this happen...? Is it a probability...? Even if it is possible probability, do we have this awareness mechanism in brain to decipher it decisively...?\n\nHmmm... Tough questions...! Looks like, there shall have to be a global conference of 'true lovers' to share their collective wisdom and then arrive at some probable answer...\n\nHowever, from our experiences, from our history books, from our established folk lores and traditions, we all know that some people have always arrived at 'true love' and they must have experienced that it was their true love. This somehow opens the doors of the hope and probability that humans can decipher true love!\n\nIf humans can decipher what is the critical speed required for a rocket to move out of the orbit of earth, how they cannot decipher love...! Let us very humbly try a formula, or better to say a probable eventuality between a man and a woman, which both of them could decipher and say in unison – 'Yes, we have arrived... yes, we announce the incidence of love... yes, we are love...!'\n\nBefore we do that, two things must be accepted as core hypotheses in any discovery of love –\n\n  1. Often, love is an evolutionary realism. Means – ideal it is that a man and a woman may not start at this mystical idea of 'love at first sight', share time and space as closely as possible and then very consciously evolve together under the 'sun' of mutuality, over the 'soil' of affection and compassion. If love evolves between the two, it is the best, which can happen to a man and a woman. This happens in most marriages, when they are settled with mutual consent of two sides, involving the man and woman. Strangers start with a 'resolve' for mutuality and usually end up with 'best probability' of love. Often, what love between two people needs is 'commitment' of the perseverance of the enterprise of mutuality; rest falls in place. Being young is good in many ways but what youth consciousness values precariously is 'commitment' as it is believed – 'Commitment is something more valuable when procrastinated...!'\n\n  2. Love is never an individual attainment. It is an absurdity to say, 'I fell in love with him/her'. Love is always in the exclusive domain of 'we', the two – the woman and the man. Love's incidence is true and real, when it arrives together, almost simultaneously. A man and a woman enter the domain of love's mutuality either together or never. That is why, most confusions about love and its incidence happen because most people are concerned only about what 'happened' to him/her; never thinking as did it happen to 'them'. Love is either 'them' or none...\n\nHaving listed the two primary and quintessential hypothesis of love; let us now settle down to list the primary enquiry – 'How to be sure, when love happens or hits you' or, 'What Does It Feel To Be In Love?' – The Core Question About Incidence of Love.\n\nWhat I am saying about the signs and symptoms of incidence of love is based on contemporary human knowledge of body-mind mechanism, history of emotions of humanity, archives of literature and collection of experiences of those who have been in stable committed love. All these make me list the signs and symptoms of incidence of love, which may answer the question – 'How To Be Sure, When Love Happens Or Hits You' or 'What Does It Feel To Be In Love?'\n\nAt the very outset, we all need to admit that our own body-mind mechanism is a huge mystery and that is why it is our instinctive inclination to accept love as a magical mysticism. This mysticism feel about love is there because of our own body-mind mechanism. We say and talk a lot about 'I', the personal self but science says, 'Consciousness, this effervescent sense of I is a huge mystery'. Science has only very recently started to understand as how our brain works when we are in love or happen to be in deep intimacy. Science however is yet to solve the complete mystery of consciousness, that is, how our brain produces this 'sense of I'.\n\nThis somehow is the core hypothesis about incidence of love. Globally, scientists as well as psychologists engaged in researches of love say it – 'Love is always a passive incidence, a happening in subconscious mind, a causality of conundrum.'\n\nThis means –\n\n... When you are in a state of complete unpreparedness, when you feel you are utterly confused as to what has hit you and what's happening with you, if you realize that your sense of 'I' is beyond your conscious control, if you think your otherwise poised sense of proportion has gone awry, if you feel that your instinctive sense of usual fear and frailty are not stopping you from doing risky things, if you are affirming that your sense of 'I' and sense of personal wellness has left you and all you can summon to your senses is 'him/her', if you accept that it is tough to even breathe normally and still you sort of enjoying it, if you accept that uncoordinated and asymmetrically incongruous things/thoughts are happening to you but you feel so mystically happy about it, and most importantly – if this is the same scenario with whom you think you are in love with, if this overall conundrum is mutual, you may well be terribly blessed and luckiest person on earth to herald – 'We Are In Love'...!\n\nThe core idea is – Love is a passive incidence and nobody can be sure about it because, it is the way our body-mind mechanism works for us. In some weird sense, this very sense of 'I' is a passive incidence for most of us; though we never admit it. If there is complete and perfect confusion and decisive dissolution of conscious and aware thought process as well as senses, it is perfect pitch for incidence of love.\n\nLove may not always start with confusion as many people think they are so empowered that they can plan everything. That is why people go for dates and 'pursue love'. However, when love hits, when love heralds its incidence, confusion, passive awareness and subconscious mind upstages everything, especially this sense of 'I'...\n\nNow, here comes this warning signal about love. Love may happen in passive and subconscious state of things, love may arrive with confusion but this is just the birth of love. Like all great attainments of life, love needs to grow and mature in time. This maturity and growth needs commitment of persevered practice of perpetuity of love...\n\nMost good things in life happens in confusion and passive awareness but then, it is like the birth of a child, when the mother is in worst of her consciousness and her jumbled up body-mind bio-chemistry ensures that she is only in her passive awareness and subconscious conundrum at the time of delivery of baby. However, when the child is delivered, the mother has to stand up and take the most active, conscious and no-nonsense commitment to grow and mature the child into a worthy man or a woman.\n\nLove is also born, nurtured and matured like that...!\n\n**\n\nCHAPTER 2\n\nThe Ubiquitous Question – He/She Loves Me Or Loves\n\nMe Not! And The Elusive Finality Of Answer...\n\nGrowing up, being young and qualifying for eligibility of 'attainments' of life and living is full of multidimensional shades of conundrums and conflicts. 'To be or not to be' confusion apart, the equal, if not bigger conflation is – 'It Is Or It Is Not...!'\n\nOften, consciously or unconsciously, almost every young man and woman faces this conundrum of – He/She Loves Me Or Loves Me Not! The question is ubiquitous, so are answers but still, no answer has the merit and matter of finality. Why?\n\nSimple fact is – If there was singular, logical and objective answer, this ubiquitous question would never have been in the domain of confusion, conflict and dualism, since the inception of humanity!\n\nHowever, smart answers pervade the youth universe in full force and every such answer claims the finality. Still, there are as many answers as are people on earth...\n\nSomeone said – 'It is so easy to know, if a man and woman are in love or not! If both of them are confused like stupid and at their hypocritical best to ascribe each other's stupidities as decisive genius, they are certainly and typically in love...!'\n\nJokes apart, the thing at the core no doubt is the series of confusions. Let us unravel and decipher it, just for the sake of hypothesis building, to arrive at something 'foolproof'...!\n\nSomehow, the confusion starts with the very idea of love. If I ask, 'she loves me or not', then there has to be a supposition that she knows what is love and also is sure she has it for me or not! For example, if I ask you, 'Do you have dhikchakdhoomchak with you?', you can answer yes or no only when you know what is – dhikchakdhoomchak!\n\nTherefore, the very first step branches into four confusing steps –\n\n  1. I know what love is and she also knows...\n\n  2. I do not know what is love but she knows...\n\n  3. I know what is love but she does not know...\n\n  4. Both I and she do not know what is love...\n\nAnyway, let us move out of it and straightforward talk about what love is, as it is the primary step, before we ask, 'He/She Loves Me Or Loves Me Not!' As we enter this domain of defining love, we in fact enter the castle of confusion, which is even bigger than the open field of confusion we were in. That is because, even science has not yet fully deciphered the brain mechanism, which we can say creates all realisms for us...\n\nAnyway, let us accept the most authentic definition of love, the wise humanity of contemporary times has evolved. This definition says –\n\n\"Love is an intangible, emergent and very subjective expression of emotions in terms of behavior-action to extend the domain of self's homeostasis wellness in the ambient environment. When the self accepts and adopts something and someone as right and good for its homeostasis wellness, there is a neurochemical and neuroelectrical impulse to merge in as part of its larger 'self'. This Process Is Body-Mind Consciousness Expressing In Terms Of The Emotion Of Love.\n\nLove is essentially an extension of one's 'self' and subjective consciousness to accept and accommodate a thing, idea or person in its fold. Therefore, love basically is a very selfish and self-indulged emotion, an expression of the self's ever-present need to maintain its homeostasis. It is our higher consciousness, which assigns and aligns this 'selfishness' to lofty and noble values of life and living in societal space.\n\nThis means – Love is a subjective intangibility, orchestrated by objective tangible instincts but an expression of cultured consciousness. This in turn means – Love is a cocktail of both instincts as well as cultural elements of self. Now, another dimension of confusion and conflict is added...\n\nScience says, there is nothing purely instinctive in modern human's body-mind construct as dominant cultural elements have percolated in all instincts, either shaping them or at least shading them as per contemporary time and space realism. Therefore, it is impossible to say, what is there in a human instinct of love, which we can term as 'instinctive' as all instincts are already a mix of instincts and cultural elements. So, we cannot say what 'nature' constitutes love as all 'nature' now has elements of 'nurture'...\n\nMoreover, cultural consciousness is also never pure as all cultural sinews are fueled by instinctive urges. If we see so much culture of 'attitude' in love and relationship in modern times, it is very difficult to say, what shape and shade of attitude is instinctive and what cultural. Nature and nurture are so stupidly hugged to each other that a separate identity seems impossible...\n\nSo, more we attempt to make a logical, objective and singular definition of love to know it exactly, more confusion and conflict creeps in...\n\nThere is another very important point, which science now tells us about love. This somehow accentuates the idea that love is a stupidity of conundrum. Science says, when in deepest depths of love and intimacy, a person's cortex part of brain is shut down and only the mid-brain parts like thalamus and hippocampus works overtime. We now know that cortex, the upper brain, is essentially the new brain and can be truly considered a human brain, as it deals with logic and higher cognitive functions. This shuts down when in abyss of love and intimacy. Means, love is so very much instinctively aligned to illogical and confused state of mind. This seems true as the mid-brain, which is essentially the archaic mammalian brain, given to simplistic 'reward-rejection' emotion-handling, becomes the key decision-maker when in deep love and intimacy. This somehow suggests, love is a stupid value-summation of asymmetrically asynchronous conflations...\n\nAdd to it the modern knowledge about how our brain works through its plexus of neurons. Science says – 'Neurons that fire together, wire together'. This means, different people have different neuron firing mechanism, depending on their experiences and learnt perspectives. Therefore, different people shall have different takes on the definition of what they subjectively 'perceive' as love.\n\nSubjectivity of perception is core to the mechanism of love, because, this is the core realism about how we see, perceive and accept – 'Who I Am'. This 'I' itself is a subjective virtuality and that is why, love remains a subjective conundrum...\n\nThis is the trouble of love...! This love is an expression of 'self', the sense of 'I', the subjective consciousness and as consciousness itself is still not fully deciphered by science, we cannot with surety say– 'What Is Love, As We Cannot Say, What/Who Is 'I', Which says, I Love You...!'\n\nHowever, one thing is for sure – all possible expressions and acceptances of the idea and incidence of love shall always have singular unputdownable and overencompassing element of Confusion, Chaos and Conflict. This is how 'I' is defined to be in a state of perpetuity...!\n\nIn the next chapter, we try to delve deep into the mechanism of body and brain, which engenders this idea and incidence of love.\n\n**\n\nCHAPTER 3\n\nAs The Idea Of 'Self', In Objective Terms, Is Often Pitted Against\n\nThe 'Self' Itself; Love Too Has Similar Shade Of Conflation...\n\nLove is ideally acceptable with its three elements of Mystery, Magic and Marvel. Most of us feel, if love is made to be understood with objective technicalities of science, the three 'M's' of love withers away. The three 'M's' land most of us in inexplicable troubles and pains of love, still, we do not wish to understand the mechanism in its objective and scientific terms, which can put us in good stead, vis-à-vis all the love troubles.\n\nThis mysticism of love is what most lovers get attracted to initially. This suits the consciousness of love. This marvel of love gives the young men and women huge kicks of life. Young minds get huge thrills in journeying amidst the mist of mysticism of love as precariousness of the enterprise always has its own joy. Similar is the human desire, when it comes to religion and spiritualism. Mysticism is preferred state here too. However, this mysticism further confuses those in love and faith and this confusion in turn leads to calamitous patterns of behaviors and actions in love. The resultant pain and chaos is cyclic.\n\nSciences may not be in a position right now to tell us in perfect details as why and how, what happens in love. However, there are huge research-backed substantiations explaining lot many aspects of the purely physical and bio-chemical mechanisms and processes of love, as human mind handles them. This surely takes away lots of mysticism, magic and marvel out of the age-old notion of love and archetypal imagery of love in society. However, it is hugely helpful in clearing the mist of confusion and chaos around the very core idea of love.\n\nIt is a humble suggestion that objective knowledge about something never ever takes away the subjective joys. It rather enhances them. We all know it very well that an actor on the movie screen is just portraying and professing a role or character still, we cry with them and get emotionally one with the fictitious character. The knowledge, that the actor is actually not dead and it is only the character he portrayed is dead in the movie, does not anyway reduce our emotional joy and satisfaction of movie viewing. The knowledge surely enhances our joys and nullifies the pain, as we know, at the end of day everything is back to real.\n\nThe dualism of love is actually the root cause of why such a beautifully powerful and beneficial facility called love becomes a cause of pain and trouble. When we do not understand the mechanism of something very clearly, mysticism is bound to creep in and it shall unleash the destructive energy of confusion. We need to understand the mechanism of love in scientifically explained terms to enhance the joy of love.\n\nThe mechanism of mind, explained in terms of detailed neurochemical and neuroelectrical processes in pure scientific traditions may not be suitable for all of us. Therefore, what we shall talk about here is just an outline and simplified description of the mechanism.\n\nWhat we are attempting to bring out from our discussion is the 'dualism' inherent in the mechanism and processes of love, as human mind handles it. We also need to accept that it is not something which science is telling us now. Thousands of years back, great minds of spiritualism and philosophy have told similar facts about consciousness, the cardinal position of love in it and the dualism, which consciousness faces about the emotional positioning of love.\n\nHuman mind is where all mysticisms emanate and end. The multilayered mechanisms of mind is one huge mystery, humanity has been attempting to unravel since thousands of years. The spiritualism and philosophy have given its own interpretation. Science has taken over and presented great facts about mind mechanism, its structure and functions and this has led humanity to understand lot many things about consciousness.\n\nHuman brain is the central mechanism for ensuring the survival and excellence of human body and it has to be accepted that the conscious and subconscious mind accepts and expresses almost everything in terms of its primary and pivotal role of ensuring a mechanism for survival and excellence. This interpretation of human mind looks so demeaning as we all are inclined to accept ourselves as something big and a lofty and special creation of God. Accepting ourselves as an entity, with base idea of survival is revolting.\n\nThat is why, science says, \"the idea of a self, in objective terms is often pitted against the 'self' itself, which we have been used to accepting subjectively since thousands of years.\"\n\nJust for knowing the mechanism, we need to accept that human mind ensures this survival and excellence through a continuous and complicated maintenance of a process called homeostasis – better understandable as 'poise'. All wisdoms, old or new, since thousands of years, have talked about the importance of this idea called 'poise', explained in terms of philosophy and spiritualism. Science unravels its physiological, bio-chemical and psychosomatic aspects.\n\nIn lower organisms, the homeostasis or poise is only physiological and biological but as human mechanism is very complex, human mind has to perform a complex and multidimensional homeostasis. In humans, the poise also has to be bio-sociological, psychological, emotional, spiritual as well as volitional. We are talking about this all because, love has to do specifically with this homeostasis thing and the trouble it creates also emanates from this.\n\nThere are sufficient scientific researches to establish that when people are in true love and absolute intimacy, their overall homeostasis is in great shape and this reflects in their healthy state of mind and body as well as behavior-action. The reverse has also been established as researches show, when people are in instable and unsettled love elements, their body gets affected and they land in serious body-mind dysfunction and even death.\n\nScience has also established that most of the behavior-action of humans is instinctive and intuitive. Even the learned behavior, the nurture part, in time becomes part of instinctive behavior and nature. The simple idea is, almost everything, which our conscious and subconscious mind accepts and expresses, has to be in consonance and conformity with the larger homeostasis, which is essential for survival and excellence.\n\nThe conscious as well as the subconscious minds operates in a way, which is mystical for most of us as most operations and processes are intangible and we are mostly oblivious of it. That is also why, love, which is a very potent, cardinal and critical element of behavioral and emotional expression of our consciousness, remains in the mist of mysticism, magic and marvel.\n\nHowever, we all can now understand the mechanism of this mysticism of love consciousness and come out of the veil of mysticism, standing tall on the ground of practical and tangible realism. This we can do by understanding how essentially our larger consciousness is an intangible expression of homeostasis process and how love is the strongest and most authoritative voice of this consciousness; seeking perpetuity of 'poise' – the larger homeostasis.\n\nThe process of making of consciousness, which stays with us lifelong, starts even when we are in mother's womb. The sense of 'self' or to say, the question as 'who I am', starts to take shape when in womb, a child gets the feel of sounds and vibrations around. The unconscious mind of child starts accepting these elements of his immediate milieu as part of its homeostasis requirements. Science admits; a newborn child is designed to be born as a genius. It readies itself for the environment outside the womb by imbibing the signals it receives inside the womb. That is why; modern couples start the education of their kids well in the womb itself.\n\nFrom the day first, the human child is instinctively loaded with one facility, which helps him or her evolve his or her 'self' – the subjective consciousness. This facility is instinctive inquisitiveness – the insatiable inclination to know. This desire also seems to be a beautiful expression of the homeostasis mechanism of body-mind consciousness. The mind can maintain poise only when it incessantly updates information about the surrounding environment and makes prompt decisions about the utility of these information for maintaining homeostasis.\n\nIt is here the trouble seems to start for humanity. The need to know exposes the mind to loads of multiplicity of information in the larger environment. As subconscious mind of the child starts to accept and adopt most of them as 'essential' for his homeostasis, he or she becomes unconsciously predisposed to these information and they become part of his or her larger consciousness, which science refers to as love/belief system.\n\nEven before a child grows up to become an adult, he or she already accepts thousands of beliefs. However, most of these beliefs are based on his or her personal and subjective interpretations of experiences, inferences, assumptions, probabilities, deductions, inductions, and loads of oversimplifications, which the subconscious mind is expert at making. Most of these beliefs are very much part of the subconscious mind and continue to present themselves as potent referrals for conscious mind even years after. We all have heard people saying, an adult's love is very much a reflection of what he or she got in childhood. We all know, a love-deficit childhood engenders an adult with troubled love life.\n\nAll these beliefs, which a child acquires, form part of the 'self', the subjective consciousness, about which we always keep asking question as 'who I am'. Our subconscious mind starts building an image of 'self' and this process expresses itself in mystically intangible ways. We unconsciously start extending the limits of our 'self-image' in things and beliefs around us. It starts with we identifying with our body first, then with our mind, our family, friends, neighbors, teachers, partners, the special someone and later with our career, assets, ethnicity, nationality, gender etc. As we grow in life, we identify more with ideas and issues. All these are expression of our 'self', the consciousness.\n\nWe adopt them in our minds and guard them very ferociously as if they were part of our 'self'. We fight over our people and beliefs like we fight for our dear life and well-being. It is because, they are part of our self and anything against them threatens our homeostasis, making us react fiercely. This is mystical. We may think, we are fighting for the cause of our dear ones or dear beliefs but essentially, we are fighting for our own survival, which is expressed in terms of homeostasis.\n\nWe all know, how people feel so strongly about their family, loved ones, ethnicity and nationality. People go to the extent of sacrificing their lives for the dear cause of family and even nation. It is very simple to understand why people do not think twice, giving up their lives for lovers and even something as vague as loss of their favorite football club. People commit suicide even when their favorite pop star falls from stairs and hurts him or her seriously. This is no joke. These incidents somehow are very intense and as some people accept it as something seriously threatening their 'self – their very homeostasis wellness, they feel, their very survival is threatened. The reaction can be very disproportionate and precarious. They often are in love!\n\nWe all need to understand and accept it with a non-judgmental and objective mind that usually, when we are in love; we are in the 'mystical middle' of a very intense and powerful dualism. True love is one beautiful and everlasting 'poise' of person and personality. However, in our pop culture, we all can see how love is one huge 'psychosis'. The trouble is, both poise and psychosis can be simultaneously present and active in one single person, at any given time.\n\nA person seeks to be in love to internalize this 'poise' to the core of his or her personality. However, the same person is battling against the psychosis on the periphery of his or her personality as the culture and society we live in, exposes him or her to loads of conflicts and competitiveness. This dualism often expresses itself in chaotic love emotions.\n\nWhen we love someone, he or she becomes an essential and ingrained part of our 'self-image' and systemic wellness homeostasis. We start taking him or her for granted as part of 'me' and 'mine'. That is why; when there is trouble in love, or a situation, where it seems the love-situation is unsettled, we feel hugely threatened. We unconsciously feel that our very survival and core wellness is threatened. In this unsettled situation, the very person, who was the 'receiver' of all our love- largesse, poses as the one, who is a threat to our wellness.\n\nWe all have experienced and witnessed this situation all around us when a lover kills his or her beloved and also kills himself or herself. Why? This dualism plays the villain. The dualism of the subconscious mind makes us do all unimaginable things. The simple reason is – when your love is threatened, your unconscious mind quickly attempts to identify the 'enemy', who threatened your survival instincts. As your beloved himself or herself is someone, who jolted your love-wellness, the unconscious mind identifies him or her as enemy. The war is then declared against this 'enemy'.\n\nThe dualism is playing its mystical marvels to us. The special someone, the beloved, whom we love so much that we cannot think of living a moment without him or her, becomes our enemy number one. Depending on how we all have been culturally trained to treat our enemies, we start executing our battle-tactics against him or her. Those, who are well groomed, trained by parents and family to be accommodative and compassionate with even the enemies, shall never opt for violent and overtly physical battle-plans. However, they can be sadistic about them. Those, who have a culture of violence, can go to any limit as it is said, \"Everything is fair in love and war\".\n\nGlobal data shows that intimate partner violence is hugely on rise. Failed love and intimacy has become the chief pain-inflictor in our pop culture. The easiest expression of the desire to inflict pain on intimate partners is 'promiscuity' and 'character assassination'. Sadism, aggression and behavioral hostility are sure signs of a troubled and unsettled wellness homeostasis of the person. This person shall be hugely intense and passionate in love. However, be sure, when things are on the low, such a person can be calamitous and extreme with expressions of his or her desire to secure his or her wellness.\n\nAs we said earlier, researches have confirmed that when a person's dear ideas or people are in trouble, his or her bio-sociological, psychological, emotional and volitional homeostasis is disturbed and this leads him or her to dysfunctional health and even death. The perception of threat to their homeostasis is very subjective, varying hugely.\n\nThat is why, we all need to understand and accept; love needs huge preparedness. We all are given enough time for the preparations. When I am perfectly settled and in absolute 'poise' of my overall wellness homeostasis, then only I am 'ready' for assimilation and integration of love. Moreover, the special someone, I love, has to be in this 'poise' too. Then only the magic works!\n\nA young father has his little daughter growing fast in a very big city of United States of America, where pop culture has taken the teenagers in perfect grip. The mother is very concerned and even tense. She worries for her teenage daughter and asks her husband, what to do to avoid any 'accidents'. Nothing new! However, what the father of this teenage girl said to his wife is interesting. He said, \"I am trying to figure out, what my daughter can do, which I cannot forgive. I love her and I think, the sky of my affection and compassion for her shall always remain much larger than her arms can stretch for possible wrongs.\"\n\nTrue love has to be like that. Love, in all its manifestations and expressions has to be like that. Love liberates, never suffocates. The 'compassion' of forgiveness shall always remain larger than the 'accidents' of 'passion', when you are in true love and absolute intimacy.\n\nThe father, in the above story, is in perfect 'poise' of his wellness homeostasis. His wellness is not threatened by his subjective 'self-image' of right and wrong. It is his poise, which is so beautifully and magnanimously reflected in his behavior and action. It is only natural that this father is a sure hero for the girl and this girl shall grow to be one 'poised' person.\n\nFrom the day we are born, we are muffled by love, in one form or other. Our preparedness starts from that day. Initially, it is the responsibility of parents and family but later, we ourselves have to learn and unlearn our ways towards this 'poise' of our larger wellness homeostasis. If we have this poise, love shall be one huge theatre of song and dance within. And, when we choose to extend this wellness poise to someone special, we need to be sure, he or she is in the same 'poise'.\n\nLove, as an idea, deeply associated with the entity of homeostasis, is hugely beautiful and highly useful. Love is a mystical expression of the 'sense of larger wellness', which is a cardinal and potent condition for homeostasis.\n\nWhat mind receives and expresses are through neurochemical and neuroelectrical processes. However, these processes are intangible and our conscious mind never is able to see or perceive them. It is when, these processes are translated in behavior and action then we understand and accept it. That is simply why; there is a sense of mysticism, in all our behavior-actions, which are expressed in subconscious state of mind.\n\nThe affectors of human emotions, which in turn impact the human mind's decision-making choices of behavior-action are mostly intangible. That is why; there is a sense of mysticism and marvel around it.\n\nLove also being an expression of intangible nature and essentially a neurochemical and neuroelectrical expression of the larger need of body's homeostasis wellness, lands in the domain of mysticism, magic and marvel.\n\nLove is an intangible and very subjective expression of emotions in terms of behavior-action to extend the domain of self's homeostasis wellness in the ambient environment. When the self accepts and adopts something and someone as right and good for its homeostasis wellness, there is a neurochemical and neuroelectrical impulse to merge in as part of its larger 'self'. This Process Is Body-Mind Consciousness Expressing In Terms Of The Emotion Of Love.\n\nLove is essentially an extension of one's 'self' and subjective consciousness to accept and accommodate a thing, idea or person in its fold. Therefore, love basically is a very selfish and self-indulged emotion, an expression of the self's ever-present need to maintain its homeostasis. It is our higher consciousness, which assigns and aligns this 'selfishness' to lofty and noble values of life and living in societal space.\n\nThat is why it is very important to accept that incidence of love shall always be mired in conflation and conflict as it is like just the birth of a child, which we all nurture, evolve and mature in time with care and perseverance. Love too happens or delivered in precarious mode but needs to be evolved definitively. Love evolves in echelons, like consciousness, which rises up with the energy of unlearning...\n\nLove is a mind-mechanism and process in the side of 'self', for enhancement and aggrandizement of the broader need of survival and wellness. When we explain love in these terms, we shall see that there is nothing that remains in the veil of mysticism, magic and marvel. Everything, even weirdest of action-behavior in love can be explained and understood in scientifically calculable ways.\n\nA person's homeostasis often accepts contradictory ideas. It is possible that a person is a devout faithful, still that person relishing an abusive tongue. It is all in the subconscious. It became ingrained in that person's subconscious mind probably early in his childhood and now forms part of his or her larger wellness homeostasis. Therefore, this person would love another person, who has similar faith system, however, would not desist from using bad mouth to him or her as the subconscious mind is used to accepting the abusive tongue as 'good' and acceptable.\n\nYou may see a dualism and contradiction in it. You may think, if a person loves you, he or she should use nice language with you and should not be a boozer or a gambler. However, for that person, love is only an expression of his or her 'self' and his or her 'self' already accepts abuse and boozing as acceptable things for his or her wellness homeostasis.\n\nIf you attempt to reason it out with him or her that if he or she loves you, he or she should stop abuse and booze, he or she shall first of all look confused. He or she would not even understand why you are saying this. Because, he or she (his or her subconscious mind), does not see any contradiction and conflict in it. Most likely, he or she shall take your words of reasoning as a threat to his or her wellness homeostasis and would likely to go away. Nobody can compromise with his or her long preserved homeostasis.\n\nActually, this person loved you because you fitted in his or her larger scheme of homeostasis wellness. Now when you have put up ideas, which disturb his or her homeostasis, his or her sense of wellness is threatened and compromised. He or she is likely to stop loving you, or shall be unsettled and erratic in his or her action-behavior.\n\nThe subconscious mind is almost too obsessed with the idea of survival and homeostasis. That is why, when it is faced with some situation, which is unpredictable and for which it has no ready solutions, it shall start creating such ideas for ensuring his or her win and success, which shall be weird and even illusory. Not only that, it would also prompt the conscious mind to go ahead with those weird ideas in terms of action and behavior.\n\nFor example, when you ask someone you love deeply to do away with some nasty or not so good habit or idea with him or her. He or she would first resist it saying, 'why do you want to change me?' You may tell lot many things to convince him or her but with little success.\n\nConsider, what this person's subconscious mind can come up with. It can device a series of questions, which shall essentially be his or defense against the change you want. His or her subconscious mind shall create all possible patterns of action-behavior to ensure he or she wins against your suggestion for change. Homeostasis needs to always win for survival.\n\nThe person would ask:\n\n  1. Why is there a need for me to change, I am doing perfectly fine!\n\n  2. Why should you ask me to change, can't you accept me as I am?\n\n  3. Why should I change and even if I have, why should I listen to you?\n\n  4. Oh! Do you think you are God! Even God cannot ask me that!\n\n  5. Why should I change if I am not convinced there is something wrong about it?\n\n  6. If I have to change, only I shall decide, no one has the right to judge me.\n\n  7. I am open to change but only for someone who first accepts me as I am.\n\n  8. I would change only for someone who loves me blindly.\n\n  9. I accept changes but it would be tough as I was made this way.\n\n  10. Give me time, I am a not good at it! Etc.\n\nThe general refrain of most people in love is, \"why cannot you accept me as I am. The God accepts me and loves me the way I am, good or bad. Why can't you? Are you greater than God? Love never puts conditions!\" Etc.\n\nRemember, the more intelligent a person is, more artistic and ingenious shall be his or her advocacy against change. More unsettled, ephemeral and indecisive one's overall homeostasis is, more intense and vocally demonstrative he or she shall be in love. However, this person shall be tougher for you to change him or her and shall be equally demonstrative in denying changes.\n\nThis dualism needs to be understood. The unsettled homeostasis makes one to seek love more intensely, desperately and sincerely. Such love is usually highly demonstrative and aggressively centrifugal. Love is the emotion of search for larger wellness homeostasis and people, who have larger need for wellness poise, shall be very intense, highly possessive and overwhelming in love. This initially suits love needs of both the partners.\n\nEveryone loves to be smothered and submerged in love's intensity and its mystically disproportionate multidimensionality. However, this is the seed of big trouble-tree of love. If we wish to be swept away by the storm of love, we need also to be ready of the calamitous fallouts of this storm.\n\nLove in its pure and pious form is never passionate but always compassionate. Love is a 'well-poised' consciousness positioning, an innate state of settled internal wellness, seldom in need of passionate and demonstrative expressions.\n\nLove's expression is like systemic serenity of 'song and dance' staged within a person's consciousness. You shall come to relish and feel at peace with his or her innate song-dance positioning, without that person saying anything to you.\n\nThe higher consciousness, in compassionate possession of the settled wellness of love shall be calm and composed like a deep ocean and blue sky. Such a person shall be widely accommodative, assimilative and integrative towards everything, like an ocean and sky.\n\nCompassion only assimilates; passion can often drift in the storm of disproportionate demonstrations of love. As we have talked about it earlier, humanity needs to 'unlearn' this old cultural cognition of accepting love as a 'passion-positioning'. Love is essentially about compassion – this higher consciousness of 'I' and resultant assimilative cognition about mutuality priorities.\n\n**\n\nCHAPTER 4\n\nThe Crucial Question – 'How Can We Be Sure That We Love\n\nHim/Her The Best Possible Way', And The Right Answer...\n\nHow do we love best? How can we all be sure, we love people the best possible way? Most importantly, when we know love is very crucial for not only self but everyone around us, how can we be confident that love inside a person manifests and expresses itself in ways, which is optimal and ideal?\n\nThe conundrum, which is core element of all 'self-belief', is always extended to love too...! We are at the first count not always sure what true love is and therefore, the secondary confusion about how to express and institute love in best possible ways naturally is in the domain of confusion and conflict...\n\nSomehow, the primary acceptance for all of us is that anyone's personality has different elements and all elements need their right and appropriate expressions in life for wellness and excellence. These elements humanity also portrays as Nau-Ras (Nine shades of moods and emotions). This means, any element of a person and his or her personality can and should ride the nine shades of emotions...\n\nThis means – this so-called singular element of Love can express itself in nine different emotions (Nau-Ras) – Shringar (Beauty), Hasya (Joviality), Adbhut (Mysticism), Shant (Poise), Raudra (Anger), Veer (Valor), Karuna (Compassion), Bhayanak (Fear) and Vibhatsa (Disgust).\n\nIn ancient yoga tradition, these nine Rasas or shades of moods and emotions were listed for the very purpose that everyone should know and accept that human personality is made of many elements and human expression can have so many shades – nine primary shades, which together can create so many sub-shades or secondary shades of moods and emotions. The idea and idealism was to be aware of all shades of emotions, so that a person could be in better 'poise and in peace' facing different tough life-living situations...\n\nNow, we come back to our question of 'how can we be sure that we love people the best possible ways'. Before we embark on the possible answer of the question, we need to accept that the singular element of Love expresses itself differently in different relationships. It is all about all nine shades of emotions being present in all forms of love for different people but some shade may stand prominent in one relationship, whereas some other shade of emotion may look dominant in other.\n\nFor example, love between a man and woman may have dominant Shringar shade, whereas between a father and daughter, the dominant shade of love may be Karuna and Shant or even Veer...\n\nFrom this perspective, we can probably say that the best possible ways to love anybody looks like a state of consciousness, where a person allows his or her lover the liberty and equality of all possible shades of emotions. To put it in a perspective, to sort of put this idea in a 'definition-jacket', we can say –\n\n\"The best possible way to love somebody is to consciously ensure that love nurtures and nourishes all nine shades of moods and emotions, interspersing some or a set of emotions in proportionate predominance as per the situation of the person we love.\"\n\nThis means – I truly love my woman when I am everything for her, imbibing all nine shades of emotions in me for her – Being a father-figure, a mother-icon, a brother-figure, a friend, critic, lover, a Guru, a competitor, etc. At a particular situation, in the life-living of my woman, I may shift my roles as father-brother-lover-guru, etc as per 'her' emotional needs...\n\nDoes this sound obsessive behavior...! Check out for a 'poise' and relativity of perceptions, as it is also an artistry – balancing between all shades of emotions...\n\nThe tough part however, shall be to sometimes come up as a role of a father, even when she may not be subconsciously willing to accept me in that shade of emotion. I may at times be in the shade of a competitor, even when she may look like in a mode to seek me as lover. Roles shift always as per her 'needs', however, not always as per her 'wants'. This surely is biggest challenge for love's success. That is why, my woman must also be aware of the Nau-Rasas and their dynamics. Love evolves only when the critical element of 'Trust' evolves first.\n\nIt seems, if I could optimize the output and utilities of all nine shades of emotions (Nau-Rasas) for my woman, I may feel like admitting that I love her the best possible way. Moreover, important it is to accept with all humility that optimum is always a limit, which needs to be stretched incessantly, as all optimality must always keep evolving to higher productivity. That is why consciousness, this sense of 'I' of both lover and beloved need to constantly keep evolving to higher stages.\n\n**\n\nCHAPTER 5\n\nThe Productive-Prudence Of Man-Woman Mutuality And\n\nSymbiosis – The Core Romanticism of Life And Living...\n\nHow much one can understand? What is there that makes us understand? And then, even if one feels and accepts that he or she has understood, how could one be sure, what he or she understood is what was there to be understood...?\n\nThe conundrum and puzzles of life and living are infinite... at least it seems so, if one happens to intend to go for them! However, even if one does not go for them, it does not anyway relieve one of those confusions and resultant conflicts of mind...!\n\nThe inevitability is always there, however, its acceptance somehow makes life-living easy. Acceptance of limitations, inevitable optionlessness at times can be very settling and can lead people to the much-required 'Wellness'...\n\nSo, in human relationships, especially intimate relationships, this 'Acceptance' sure holds a loads of potential for wellness, especially in times of stress and conflicts...\n\nIntimacy and committed love between two people make them feel and accept that 'They Have Understood', each other and the so-called 'Chemistry' between the two bodies and minds. However, this is unfortunate invite to calamitous probabilities in intimate relationships...\n\nAs a matter of fact, two people in love and intimacy are two different Consciousnesses with separate Cognitive perceptions about things in life. The 'common' domain of body-mind mutuality in intimacy is seldom equal to merger of two consciousnesses. The domain of mutuality is only that common part of two different 'Circles', which we now know and accept as separate Consciousnesses.\n\nTherefore, as two people in intimacy remain all the time as two different 'circles of consciousnesses', with a small common zone of mutuality, the huge 'Unsure Zone' remains live and kicking between them. A big chunk of both consciousnesses remain 'Unknown & Unknowable' to each other, even while love makes them believe that they 'know' each other quite well.\n\nTherefore, in human relationships, especially intimate relationships, this 'Acceptance' about 'Exclusiveness' of Consciousnesses sure holds a loads of potential for wellness, especially in times of stress and conflicts...\n\nThis in turn makes out a clear case of 'Desired' action & behavior for two people in intimacy and love. Once two people accept to be in intimacy and love, they have created only a small 'zone of mutuality', which is just a starting 'seed' situation for success of love. Both then have to evolve together with compassion for each other's 'exclusive consciousnesses', so that in time to come, the 'Zone of Mutuality' keeps expanding and 'Exclusivity' of separate consciousnesses dwindle and erode in time to as minimum as possible.\n\nThe key in love and intimacy is to evolve together, from the point where two people decide to be on a Mutuality journey. This surely is not easy as we know loving is a 'selfish' enterprise of auto-mode instincts. Yet, understanding and then accepting this mechanism creates this desirability of the evolution towards the destination of mutuality...\n\nIt seems; at least it seems to appear and get perceived like this', that most, if not all, intangibilities have this instinctive and per-destined orientation to merge and get identified with some tangibility. It is different matter that in time and space, this tangibility itself gets inclined to express itself in myriad shades of intangibilities. May be, life's core joys and living's eternal romanticism is a tale of this mutuality and symbiosis between the tangibility and intangibility...\n\nSomehow, abstractions come natural to all of us as they are very much our mechanism. Our consciousness, this ephemeral sense of 'I' or 'Me' is an intangible – A Mystical Summation Of Abstractions. Science says – Consciousness is an emergent intangible information processing mechanism of brain, which essentially is like making a 'bridge' between tangibility of body-mind inside and intangibility of elements in the milieus outside.\n\nIt seems; at least it seems to appear and get perceived like this...\n\nMan and woman mutuality and symbiosis looks like a microcosm of this cosmic construct of tangibility-intangibility dualism and dialectics...!\n\nUnderstanding this dualism is somehow a must for wellness and social excellence...\n\nThe consciousness, the self, this sense of 'I' itself being the intangible, and this intangible may be a man or a woman, it always instinctively looks for a body – the tangible.\n\n... the consciousness of a man seeking the refuge of a woman's body... it is like an intangible seeking safety and security of a tangible, in the form of the body of a woman... it is like a huge ship in the ocean; drifting along but continuously looking up for the shore, where it could anchor. A ship cannot unload the utilities it carries if it does not hit the shore and anchor well...!\n\nThis ship is not gender-specific... a woman's consciousness and a man's consciousness in its primary and purest form does not accept man woman divide. This ship can be a man or a woman and both ships look for their respective shores and anchors...\n\nInterestingly, the dualism never leaves us alone. The fact remains that even when the consciousness of a man or a woman seeks the tangibility of the body of a woman or a man respectively, the fact remains that the man or a woman themselves remain the intangibilities. A woman's consciousness (intangibility) seeks a man's body (tangibility) as her shore and anchor but this man also has a consciousness, which is intangible... The same with a man seeking a woman...\n\n... This seems like the true romanticism of life and living...\n\n... The ship seeks a shore and an anchor and this ship itself becomes the shore and anchor for another ship. Also, the shore and anchor turns into a ship and seeks its own shore and anchor...!\n\n... That is mutuality business of humanity, which ensures that 'investment' becomes 200% 'profit' and 'profit' becomes 200% 'investment'...\n\n... beware! Some men and women become too intelligent and make 200% profit in this mutuality business but never recycle this profit into investment... the dialectics and cyclicality of mutuality business between man and woman must never stop...! Neither the man nor the woman should be this 'intelligent' and blind enough to renounce the primary hypothesis of utility of 'innocence' in the mutuality business...\n\nThis is eternal romanticism of life-living utility... The dualism of cosmic construct unleashes the primeval energy, which keeps the cyclicality of intangible and tangible transcendental and infinite... This is some dialectics, which always plays between man and woman and creates a 'productivity prudence', which all men and women must understand, accept and respect...\n\n... all consciousnesses, be it of a man or that of a woman, they need to be rooted and anchored... all intangibilities must align and anchor with a tangibility... and then, all tangibilities must always be allowed space and liberty to express themselves in all possible intangibilities... this is the core 'productive prudence' for the man-woman mutuality...\n\nAs a man said to his beloved –\n\n'Tum Se Bus Us Baat Ki Hai Ummeed,\n\nJo Mera Mujh Se Kabhi Poora Na hua...'\n\n(I have expectations from you of only that, which I could never have, own my own...)\n\nThis symbolizes the man-woman mutuality and symbiosis... An intangibility perfecting and completing itself, when it merges and identifies with a tangibility and the vice-versa... A man seeking merger and alignment with a woman to perfect and complete itself... and the vice-versa...!\n\nAs a poet said –\n\n'Unka Ho Gaya Hoon, Ab Kuchh Na Hone Ki Khwahish Hai,\n\nHad-e-Taqmeel Pa Gaya Hoon, Bus Mar Jaane Ki Khwahish Hai...'\n\n(I have become her and therefore there is no desire of becoming anything else. I have attained limits of perfection and now I wish to become dead...)\n\n... This symbolizes the man-woman mutuality and symbiosis... This symbolizes the core romanticism of life and living... This is some dialectics – the dualism and cyclicality, which must always play between man and woman to engender this 'productivity prudence', which all men and women must understand, accept and respect...\n\n**\n\nCHAPTER 6\n\nEver-growing Derisions And Untold Afflictions In The Contemporary\n\nLife-Living Milieus – Larger Need For Redemptive Love...\n\nThere is something called 'Redemptive Love', which is so relevant in contemporary times, as world-over, humanity suffers from various types of terror. As the afflictions are being caused mostly by humanity itself on humanity, this very ancient and transcendental idealism of 'Redemptive Love' has become much more relevant now...\n\nThe nature has never been kind to humanity. However, the brutality and afflictions caused by nature does not cripple and traumatize humanity as much than what it causes when evil human beings unleash them on fellow beings...\n\nThe terrors of starvation, torture, slavery, rape, murder and various forms of extreme and violent afflictions cause not only cause physical pain and sufferings, they do something, which psychologically destroys the whole society and cultures...\n\nSomeone said very aptly, 'Afflictions caused by evil humans makes God appear to be absent for a time... What is terrible is that if, in this darkness and damnation where there seems nothing to love, God's absence becomes final... If the soul stops loving, it falls, even in this life, into something, almost equivalent to hell... That is why, the evil humans, who plunge fellow humans into afflictions, kill their soul, before they are actually dead...'\n\nIn such a world, where human-unleashed terror is making souls dead and making love disappear, it is very important that we all rational and thinking people do our little bit in what we call 'Redemptive Love' – To restore the lost love in hearts and resurrect the souls, which are dead from human afflictions ... The lost love needs to be redeemed and restored in the souls of humanity, which is facing untold afflictions in the contemporary world...\n\nThe billion dollar question is – What we as individuals can do to help the process of 'Love's Redemption'. Let us understand the redemptive process of love –\n\n  1. We can help the victim by making his or her afflictions sound and feel less painful and also lead them to accept their afflictions from a position of strength...\n\n  2. We can make the evil humans feel and see the wrongs and lead them to accept their wrongs. This is toughest, yet more doable...\n\nNo doubt, both are very difficult tasks as an individual has his or her own troubles and it is so tough to make others accept something, which does not seem there. That is why, redemptive love is associated only with Boddhisattvas (The awaked ones) or the God itself. In Hindu tradition, it is accepted that Lord Vishnu takes Avtaar for Redemption of Love on the Earth, whenever evil human forces unleash their terror and kill souls of humanity by their afflictions...\n\nHowever, small things are always available for every individual to do and contribute. Good things need not be done in a missionary manner but small contributions are good enough. What we as individuals can do are –\n\n  1. Extending the Domain of Self or 'I' – In modern milieus, every individual is struggling with the needs and desires of the self. The sense of 'I' is becoming too restrictive and subconsciously squeezing the domain of self only to 'Me' and 'Family'. By just extending the domain of 'I' to larger sense of belonging to fellow humans can help a big way in the process of 'Redemptive Love'...\n\n  2. The Acceptance of Relativity and Empathy – Psychologists say, evil is not someone who inflicts pain on others but evil is someone who is blind about the very acceptance that what he or she is doing is wrong. That is why, acceptance that we all can be wrong is key human wisdom and accepting our wrongs goes a long way in building the castles of 'Redemptive Love'. This very sense of relativity and this ability to step into the emotional shoes of others can enhance our compassion to such heights that this world can be a better place to live...\n\nThe simple code of 'Love's Redemption' is – No human soul (Body and Mind) should live devoid of love. Love must remain in all hearts and minds as this only can ensure that our society and cultures have optimum levels of trust and faith. This is what we call God in our mind. God must never be absent from souls of humanity. This tragic and terrifying realism happens when love is absent from hearts...\n\nThe simple, yet very elusive point is – Love riding energy of passion derides and deprives love the most. As we have said earlier, true love is more about the assimilative and integrative element of compassion. Redemptive love is primarily about empathy...\n\nWe all can surely contribute hugely in this very recuperative process of 'Redemptive Love' by expanding the domain of our 'I' and be in acceptance mode of our own mistakes and wrongs. Anyone can be wrong as we all are humans. However, when we accept our wrongs, we turn into God as we then extend full-blown chance to redemption of love... Let us all do it...\n\n**\n\nCHAPTER 7\n\nSoul-mate Idealism: No Readymade 'Made-For-Each-Other' Eventuality\n\nIn Love And Intimacy – Mutuality Is A Persevered Personal Enterprise...\n\nThe person, you Love, has to be in perfect and profound wellness poise, otherwise, he or she shall never be in a consciousness of complete and perfect assimilation and integration, which love's mutuality shall demand.\n\nThe person you love is not some other subject or object you think you hold dear and like. The fact is – the person you love is essentially the image of your own subject, your own self or consciousness, seeking another medium than your own body-mind to extend its domain. This is the expression of your intangible homeostasis need. It is therefore only natural that he or she, whom you love has to be a willing and highly navigable media, for easy and smooth assimilation into your 'self-image'.\n\nWhen two people in love are two brilliant, settled, poised, navigable, compassionately accommodative and malleable 'media', it shall be smooth and systemic assimilation of the two 'selfs' and two shall finally evolve to become one singular and symmetrical consciousness. This is the true success of love.\n\nOnly two higher consciousnesses can merge and melt into one consciousness...\n\nClassical wisdom of Oriental spiritualism said – 'Only generic and similar elements can have lasting relationship with each other. Therefore, for lasting wellness in intimate relationship, it is crucial that both man and woman have commonality of elements in their consciousnesses. If not, then mutuality enterprise is all about evolving together towards this commonality...\n\nWhen this merger and assimilation happens, the two separate and exclusive 'wellness needs' become one singular and larger homeostasis. This 'homeostatic love' can never fail; it shall be the infinite success symmetry.\n\nThe onus of all these beautiful processes and evolution for the ultimate success of the 'venture of love' is on you. It is first your own preparedness, your own readiness for the start of the 'venture'. It is also your responsibility to ensure that your special someone is also in the same state of readiness.\n\nNever ever take love casually. You already know it, how love is so intrinsically and cardinally associated with your wellness poise. Love's success can make your life. However, if love flops, it has a calamitous impact on you as it has the fatal effect of threatening your wellness homeostasis, which is essentially your larger sense of survival.\n\nAlways remember, mutuality in love is never a readymade equity, it is always made together with conscious elements of persevered enterprise.\n\nThere is this very populist idea of 'soul-mate', which presents a case as why every individual in love should put more premium on 'personal-inputs', rather than 'readymade' compatibilities.\n\nIt is a reality which many believe is unbelievable. Yet, the fact is that 73% of Americans believe in inevitability of the idea and pragmatism of soul-mates. A survey few years back points out –\n\n  * More men than women believe that they are destined to find their one, true soul-mate (males: 74%, females: 71%).\n\n  * 79% of people younger than 45 believe in soul-mates, while only 69% of those over 45 do.\n\nThe data may be of America but it seems, there may be a similar factsheet almost everywhere. The factsheet apart, psychologists say that this belief of soul-mate is a huge trap. They say; if you believe that there is only one person for you, you are more likely to spend energy and time looking for that person instead of cultivating an existing relationship or a possible one.\n\nPsychologists say, Destiny Believers have passionate, intense, short-term relationships, but often they become disillusioned and frustrated when something inevitably goes wrong. They believe in 'deal-breakers' and are constantly looking for the 'perfect' person. When something negative happens in the relationship they think, \"Better move on and find my person.\"\n\nGrowth Believers take a bit longer to commit. Even early in the relationship they are more motivated to find solutions, compromise or explore new ideas. They often view compromising as growth. When something negative happens in the relationship they think, \"Better sit together and work this out.\"\n\nPsychologists say; people who believe in romantic destiny (soul mates) primarily look for positive emotional reactions and initial compatibility with a partner. They believe people either \"click\" and are meant to be, or they don't and should move on.\n\nPeople who believe in romantic growth (cultivation) primarily look for someone who will work and grow with them, resolving conflicts as they arise. They believe that relationships can evolve with hard work and compromise, even in difficult situations. It is more like instituting more faith in power of personal as well as mutual investment of common sense than believing blindly in 'destiny' or readymade 'Made-For-Each-Other' eventuality...\n\nSo, what surveys and psychologists point out is – Overall, the message is clear, looking for perfect compatibility and a soul mate kills motivation to work at successful relationships with good partners. In the long run, adopting a belief in romantic growth and cultivation is much more rewarding, especially for those interested in long-term relationships.\n\nCompared to soul mates, a belief in growth does take more work, effort, and a desire to change. So, to truly have a satisfying relationship, an individual must not only give up the search for a \"perfect\" partner, but also be willing to admit they are not always \"perfect just as they are\" as well. Only then can two people work together, grow, evolve, and meet each other's needs in the long run.\n\nThe psychologies apart, the crucial question is – It is not that people, especially young people do not know what the psychologists are pointing out. They too accept that nobody is perfect and growth in relationship is in evolving with whatever is at hand. Still, the key question is why such an overwhelming majority of 73 percent believe in inevitability of soul-mate?\n\nIt seems, it is somehow another shade of contemporary consciousness, which seems to be working towards this end. Psychologists may like to work on this shade of subconscious attitude, which works in favour of soul-mate. It is however a humble suggestion. People may check it out with their own consciousness and ask, is that true?\n\nWhat seems to work behind this overwhelming soul-mate idealism is probably a contemporary sense of 'empowerment'. Both men and women, especially young, feel that they are now empowered and endowed. They need nothing but best in their lives. They are brand aware and look for 'fine-fit' or to say the 'best-fit' in their lives. They feel, not any job would do but only that job is the option which 'I want' for myself. Not any car or any house would do. Only that would do, what 'best-fits' my current life-living position and status.\n\nThis 'best-fit' is deeply ingrained in the subconscious mind and we all feel, we have attained this much, we have done the hard-work and we deserve nothing but best. There is one something, which is right for me. This only shall do, not any fit shall do.\n\nOnce a girl said, 'I am a scientist and I simply cannot think of my soul-mate being anything but a better scientist...!' This syndrome of only the 'best-fit' for me seems to be behind this insistence over soul-mate.\n\nA soul-mate is nothing but a perfect-fit or the 'best-fit' for me. The idea of a soul-mate is a 'rigidity' of worldview, which refuses to accept any fit. It insists on and is unapologetic about anything but the 'best-fit'...\n\nMay be, this interpretation of soul-mate is a long-drawn one. May be, this parallel between 'best-fit' syndrome and soul-mate idealism is a mismatch. May be, some more psychologies can be responsible. Still, there seems to be a need to question ourselves. Is that true? Or not...?\n\nAs it is very tough to decipher how psychologies unravel themselves in the cognitive horizon of humanity, all possibilities of consciousness causalities may be listed. However, the message is very clear –\n\nIncidence of love may happen between two people with little commonalities or possible compatibilities, yet, the lasting success shall only be a function of preserved personal as well as mutual inputs towards evolving better and larger compatibilities.\n\n**\n\nCHAPTER 8\n\nThe 'Larger Picture' In Insinuations of 'Cheating If Not Caught'\n\nAnd Why Majority of Men And Women Wish It...\n\nSuch is human predisposition for sliced realism and so wired is our consciousness towards refusing the ultimate utility and worth of holism that we seldom see and accept the larger picture of life-living actualism...!\n\nMore interesting is the realism that even though we all know about such attitudes and perspectives of our lives, we seldom move out of our inertia and comfort zone to amend this core fallacy, which is the core trouble of most of our wellness crisis...!\n\nThere is this urgent need to bring this issue to the center-stage of human discourse, both at individual level as well as at collective domains...\n\nSample this –\n\nA survey in USA says –\n\n  * 68 percent women said they would go for an affair, out of their current committed relationships, if they were assured they won't be caught...!\n\n  * Naturally, 74 percent men said the same thing...! One would have expected this figure to be higher for men...! However, contemporary times of equality levels up everything...!\n\nThen, what is there for sliced up realism and what is the holism about it? What is the profile perspective and what is the larger picture that we often miss...?\n\nWell, the part picture can be so many, as per individual choice –\n\n  * Oh! People are really unreliable!\n\n  * Hmmm... women too...!\n\n  * No big deal... we are wired for that...!\n\n  * It's all cultural trouble...!\n\n  * So what...! People have choices and they are free to avail them...!\n\n  * Hmmm... that's why marriages and relationships are doomed...!\n\n  * God...! And, they say couples and marriages are made in heaven...!\n\n  * Nothing new, I knew that...! Sex rules, admittance is better than hypocrisy...!\n\n  * Etc...\n\nOkay! What is then the holism? Is that combining all the above parts and accepting that whatever is the reality, it is and has to be accepted? Can holism be summation of parts...?\n\nThat is why there is this urgent need to bring this issue of 'holism' and human aversion to it and wired choice for sliced up realism at the center-stage of human discourse, at individual level as well as at collective domains; especially in matters of love and intimacy...!\n\nHolism seems to start with the primary and over-riding question –\n\n  * Why Is What It Is? What Makes It Why It Is?\n\nSomehow, the question of holism – The Larger Picture, is a systemic investigation into why the whopping 68 percent women and 74 percent men have this embedded desire for something more than what they have? Also, why this desire for availing some choice so 'undermined' and 'inhibitive' as men and women do not wish to be 'caught' availing it?\n\nOne can say that like wealth and other desires, enough is never enough and it is visceral to want more. Then, why is there this 'inhibition' of not wanting it publically? Why this desire to have more but not being 'caught' with this desire? Accepted that in contemporary world, having 'more' is the core creed but then, people on this planet, both men and women are actually flaunting their possessions and endowments more than what they actually have! So, why not flaunt this 'inhibitive' desire too...!\n\nOften, such is the pop culture's demand, young men as well as women, when they are not married or in a committed relationship, flaunt publically or in trusted circles as how many boyfriends and girlfriends they have! It is rather a status symbol now to have as many girlfriends or boyfriends as possible. More you have more 'empowered' one and others feel and accept you!\n\nSo, is there simply some hypocrisy playing its dubious game? Or is there something more deep-seated? This is the question of holism! The investigation of answers is the journey towards seeing and accepting the 'Larger Picture'...!\n\nAlso try this. Science says – A man is not genetically wired to love two women at a time. He can say he loves two women but at a given time, one woman shall have to be clearly his favoured one. Women are supposed to be more wired to have single mate as per their evolutionary genetic choices...!\n\nSo, what makes the above data possible? This is the query of the 'Larger Picture'...!\n\nThe critical idea is – Human nature and behaviors are outcome of his consciousness, which is so designed that it engenders beautifully mystical subtleties. Accepting and accommodating such subtleties in one's worldview is the core creed of holism...\n\nSo, we may say, what these 68 percent women and 74 percent men are saying is something open to various interpretations but what may be accepted as core emotion, triggering such desire sans complications of wordsmithery is – Human needs and wants are multidimensional and multi-shaded. We have needs and we have wants. May be, what we need is not what we want or should want but desires are there and they speak of humanity's 'need' to draw emotional and physical satisfaction in multidimensional ways too...\n\nMay be, what we say is not always we mean; at least in holistic sense...\n\nFor example, a survey said, 'Only 2 percent women accepted themselves as beautiful'. Means, whopping 98 percent women thought they were not beautiful. However, this is not the reality, as words make us believe and accept. In the same survey, a huge majority of 95 percent women accepted that every woman has something or other as beautiful...\n\nSo, the idea is – what we say in words are just the reflection of multiple shades of mixed up emotions. Only a holistic 'Larger Picture' can assay a human emotion. Most humans accepted that beauty is in the eye of beholder. A great writer said, 'Every woman is beautiful who is loved'. Therefore, if only 2 percent women say there are beautiful, it is just a shade of reality...\n\nSimilarly, when 68 percent women and 74 percent men say, they may make a certain choice, if not caught, then it may well be accepted as some shade of emotion, which is much larger than what few words can sum up...!\n\nSo what is the 'Larger Picture' or the 'Big Emotion' behind the 'Option If Not Caught' syndrome?\n\nThere is this need of a larger and sustained survey to get to the bottom of any conclusion as we accept that human nature and behavior is multidimensional and multi-shaded. However, there is one possibility, which we may consider –\n\n  * May be, human satisfaction needs fulfillment of multiple and often mystically expressed varied 'needs' and 'wants'. Therefore, may be, one person is not sufficient enough, for love, care and intimacy. Humans have been genetically inclined to be gregarious and very family oriented. We have tribal instincts, which dominate our nature and instincts. As we say, 'It takes a whole village for a child to grow as a good man or woman'. This means, our emotional and intimacy needs are big and multidimensional. That is why, we had big families, where brothers, sisters, cousins, relatives and family friends together ensured that everyone's emotional and intimacy needs were fulfilled. We now live in a society and culture, where it has boiled down to single kid family, single parent households, husband-wife family and nuclear family status. Moreover, relatives and society have become very competitive and hence kept at a safe distance. May be, we are in huge deficit of multiple shades of love-care-intimacy...!\n\nThat is why, we talked earlier about why and how we can probably say that the best possible ways to love anybody looks like a state of consciousness, where a person allows his or her lover the liberty and equality of all possible shades of emotions. As we said, this means – I truly love my woman when I am everything for her, imbibing all nine shades of emotions (Nau-Ras) in me for her – Being a father-figure, a mother-icon, a brother-figure, a friend, critic, lover, a Guru, a competitor, etc. At a particular situation, in the life-living of my woman, I may shift my roles as father-brother-lover-guru, etc as per 'her' emotional needs...\n\nThis however is just a probability. You are welcome to add to it...!\n\nHowever, it remains a fact that there should always be 'more' and more than 'more, when it comes to the love-care-intimacy 'needs' of men and women... Let there be a deluge of it all... And, let us not be shy of being caught...!\n\n**\n\nCHAPTER 9\n\nThe World Is Good or Bad, Love Is Real or Farce – The Hypothesis\n\nOf Superpositioned Realism Of Quantum Consciousness\n\nOften, many realism of life and living are so hugely multidimensional that it is easy for us to accept one single dimension of it and accept it as general truth. We all usually pick up some personal and subjective 'hypotheses', accept them to be true, and then go on to construct a 'theory' on the foundation of this hypothesis...\n\nThe interesting thing is – as realism often is so big and multidimensional that it has large size and share of both 'Yes' and 'No' or 'Good' or 'Bad'. That is why, it becomes easy for anyone to cut a slice of this realism and accept it as his or her personal hypothesis. Once we accept this hypothesis as right, it is human mechanism to fight for the veracity of such subjective hypothesis to establish it as objective theory of human realism...\n\nSo, someone would say – 'This world is so bad, people are so selfish, goodness is a falsehood, relationships are farce, money is everything, you are all alone in this big bad world as nobody loves nobody, etc'.\n\nThen, somebody may say the opposite of it. Both hypotheses pertain to something, which is so huge and so multidimensional that it is very easy for anyone to prove the veracity of his or her mutually competing hypotheses. Yes, this world, life, relationships, people, human behavior, etc are so huge domains and there are more than 7 billion people adding shades into this realism. It is only natural that in such a huge sample size of over 7 billion people, anyone can hypothesize any situation as right or wrong, good or bad.\n\nMoreover, what we are hypothesizing about is not a tangibility. They all fall in the domain of intangibility. That is why, it is equally easy for anyone to hypothesize it good or bad. However, others may bulldoze this subjective hypothesis with equal ease as both competing size have enough rough data to support their subjective perceptions. This happens because the sample size is huge and what we are dealing with is not tangibility but intangibility...\n\nMost of such hypotheses are very subjective, based on opinions, conjectures, imaginations, hearsays, dogmas, ideologies, fantasies and fiction, having no singular measurable and proven basis.\n\nSo, when someone says – 'This world is so bad and love is a farce', how can we objectively test the validity of the hypothesis? Of course, one can single out sufficient data from over 7 billion people constituting the world and their behaviors in support of his or her hypothesis. But then, another person too can easily garner enough data opposing the hypothesis from the same 'sample size' of over 7 billion people, establishing that this same world is good and love rules most hearts...\n\nHere, probably comes the idea of quantum consciousness – the quantum idea of superposition. Superposition means, a realism remains in all possible shades and shapes till it 'collapses', when someone observes it. So, this world, its over 7 billion people and their collective as well as individual status are also a super-positioned realism. It is both good and bad; and billion shades of various mixes of the twin elements of good and bad. It depends on the 'observer', who may accept it either way!\n\nTherefore, what physics as well as spiritualism keeps telling us is – realism is always neutral. This world, all tangibles and especially the intangibles are neither good nor bad. This world always had good elements as well as bad elements and they keep balancing each other. For an individual as well as collectivity, good or bad depends on how one aligns with elements in the milieus...\n\nSimilar is the superpositioning of the competing hypotheses that love is shrinking, people are no more good enough for love and intimacy and the opposite that this world is now a better place for love to sustain and flourish.\n\nGoodness and badness are just elements in somehow super-positioned pure state. If an individual aligns with good elements, his or her current / 'observer' status makes him or her accept the world as good and enjoyable. The same person, if he or she aligns with bad elements, the 'observer' status changes and he same world becomes bad. Same is the situation with love. It is about how we align with the energy of love.\n\nSo, the finality of judgment about the culpability of this world, love, relationships, actions/behaviors etc remains on the side of the 'observer' – the individual. Often, if a localized milieu seems good or bad, it is basically because of how society, cultures, economy, politics and psychology align with what elements of the larger cosmos...\n\nIf in all probabilities, the culpability is with individuals and the collectivity they create together; every single 'observer' has a fair share in this collective sense of good or bad. However, it is great pain and perturbation to find and accept that there are people, who are not well endowed and empowered and that is why, they have to face so much troubles in life, which they can easily avoid and even turn these challenges into opportunities, if they had it...\n\nIt is greater pain to find and accept that there are truly endowed, empowered and really beautiful men and women, who have everything to turn the challenges of their lives into opportunities but what they miss is not the tangibility, but the intangibility of 'cognitive chemistry', which is applied, can make them land in bliss and wellness...\n\nIt is such a joy that we live in times, which the world accepts as the 'best possible times' for humanity as surely, we have milieus around us, which are facilitative and amicable, compared to times only a few decades back. Also, more people, especially our dear women are now more empowered and truly endowed...\n\nWhy then such crisis, conflict, confusion and resultant pain and perturbations...?\n\nThis is why we need to talk about this very critical element of 'Cognitive Chemistry'...\n\nI have always insisted the old and very objective realism that this world, the socio-cultural milieus around us and elements that affect our life-living experiences are neither good nor bad but objectively neutral. Often, more often than we accept; good or bad is our 'cognitive conundrum'. Pain and joys are often very subjective, emanating out of our 'cognitive crisis'. That is why it is very important to understand the 'cognitive chemistry' of our consciousness – this sense of 'I' or 'self'...\n\nThere is a clichéd, which is like – 'If you wish to be successful in life, you have to learn to say NO'. The reverse of this is also equally popular. The fact remains, everyone has to learn to say 'YES' and 'NO' but the artistry is not only in mouthing them but in applying this energy of 'Affirmation' and 'Negation' at appropriate Place, Time and Manner.\n\nThe very word 'management' is all about the 'judiciousness of delivery'. A brilliant life-manager has this golden artistry of knowing appropriately, 'When, Where, Why, Who and How'. Judgment of appropriateness of delivery is some artistry, nobody is born with; it is learnt and is perfected by practice...\n\nThis is not new. Everyone does this judgment of 'When, Where, Why, Who and How'. Also, we need to accept that we always have two core choices about all judgments of our life about 'When, Where, Why, Who and How' – It is either 'Yes' or 'No...\n\nHere comes the 'cognitive chemistry'...\n\nExcellence, solutions, bliss, confidence and all other goodies of life is about how appropriately our 'Yes' and 'No' fit into our scheme of things. If there is a situation, when a 'Yes' is required and we in our judgment opt for 'No', life-living experiences are different for us, compared to what it could have been, if we opted for 'Yes'...\n\nMost importantly, both set of probabilities, or what we may call destinies, whether following a 'Yes' or a 'No', are neutral and objective, They are neither good or bad. However, we accept them as good or bad or they actually turn into good or bad consequences for us is all very subjective for us, at a given time and space only....\n\nTherefore, all realism – good or bad, are often our perceptions, call it our cognitive conundrum. For the cosmos, or the macrocosmic world, Oxygen and Carbon dioxide are both value-neutral, neither good nor bad. It is for humans that Oxygen is good and Carbon dioxide is killer. Therefore, all life-living situations draw their labels of good or bad as per our subjective cognition and subjective judgment of a realism...\n\nThat is what we have to accept and feel happy about. The happy thing in all probabilities of life is that they themselves are neither good or bad. Something is good or bad because of someone's subjective positioning at a particular time and space...\n\nYes, no doubt, there are actual bad things and they are commonly bad for all people and all lives, and they are very much tangible. Such tangible troubles like cancer disease or an unfortunate mishap, etc are bad and universal. However, we all can see and accept that most of our troubles do not fall in such tangible categories...\n\nWhat we are talking about is situations like – 'I am a fat girl, no one loves me, I have bad loans to pay, my parents are not supportive, my career is doomed, my lover ditched me, life is tough for me, I am a huge failure, etc...\n\nHere comes this need of understanding and accepting the idea of 'cognitive chemistry'...\n\nOften, with anyone, life offers this situation to take a call. You have to make a judicious choice between 'Yes' and 'No'. Remember, to be human is to err and learn from mistakes. Still, making a judicious choice is crucial, after accepting that judicious choices come only when we objectively test our cognitive prudence. That needs to sit down, opt for leisure, break the issue at hand into smaller details and test the probabilities of all details in terms of their consequences if you say 'Yes' and if you say 'No'...\n\nIt is all about acceptance of the simple facts –\n\n  1. Most life situations are neutral; we perceive them as good or bad...\n\n  2. We have to be objective and non-emotional, when we make judgments about 'Yes' or 'No' about a life-living choice...\n\n  3. All probabilities and consequences of both 'Yes' and 'No' are also neutral, neither good nor bad. We need to accept them with objective cognitive prudence...\n\n  4. Cognitive realism – the perception of good or bad is often a subjective realism in time-space domain. As Time and Space change, realism about good and bad changes too...\n\n  5. Our brain is essentially an actionable entity, led primarily by our thought processing. That is why we all are geniuses out of reactionary priorities. Cognitive prudence is all about procrastinating the reactionary priorities and settle for a 'receptive' mind consciousness, which has the leisure and time-space maneuverability to objectively test the validities of 'Yes' or 'No' choices...\n\nMost importantly, we need to accept that in contemporary milieus, where everything is so charged up and life speed is made to be calamitously high, it is our primary mammalian brain (limbic system, which deals with emotions and short-term memory), which dominates our cognitive prudence. This we need to change...\n\nWe are humans and humans have excellence of solutions of all troubles because we have a superior brain part called cortex area, which has been assigned the higher cognitive functions. Limbic system-backed cognition is so programmed for reactionary and short-term reward and consumption that limbic-cognition often makes us accept subjective judgments. This we have to be wary of...\n\nTo align our cognition to higher brain consciousness is some artistry, we all need to evolve to. This creates a 'cognitive chemistry' for us, which makes us have objective and logical judicious life-living choices. This is surely superior to emotional and subjective life-living choices, which lands us in most troubles, pains and perturbations...\n\nThis cognitive chemistry must be made to work at its best when we ready ourselves for reception of the incidence of love. Love must always meet your higher consciousness. Often, love is made to encounter with our mammalian-brain led auto-mode consciousness of reward and punishment. This we need to be wary of. Love must always meet the higher cognition.\n\n**\n\nCHAPTER 10\n\nWhy The Young Men And Women Are Reluctant To Get\n\nMarried And Fear of Not Getting Mr. or Ms. Right...\n\nThe questions of life and living have a mystically magical date with milieus. Milieus, themselves are not independent realism as this intangibility of collective perceptions often create this tangibility of milieus...!\n\nThe question, which is well there in the cultural milieu and has a rather mystical aura to it, is – \"Why the young Men and Women are reluctant to get Married...?\"\n\nSomehow, the right or logically appropriate answer is still evolving as the question itself is just in its inception. Still, the talk is everywhere that young ones are not very inclined to marriage, especially young women, who are empowered and independent!\n\nBefore we attempt to answer this evolving question, let us first spare some precious time for a passage below, which shall probably help in delving into the perspectives of the question. No question of life is isolated from other questions. That is why, a holistic perspective about life-living and milieus may be rightfully appropriate here to understand the nature and scope of the question at hand – \"Why the young men and women are reluctant to get married...?\"\n\nDo kindly let the passage below sink in... what sinks in, stays...\n\n\"The dawn was still processing its registry... the birds had though geared up for the day... flowers stirring and looking eastward set to welcome their beloved Sun... A boy was awake too, marshalling his goats. He could clearly hear him singing in his pastoral best shrieking tone...\n\n\"He sat by the window of his house watching and enjoying the blank sky. The grey sky would gradually turn crimson and finally golden. The darkness of the sky was what he was enjoying. He had a feeling it would look wonderful as and when dawn would herald its inevitable arrival...\n\n\"He reminisced and smiled. How many times in his life, he found and cherished loads of purposes. He smiled because he realized how important stupidities of life are... how they extend you the chance to be wise. How people miss the relevance of stupidities as catalyst of wisdom.\n\n\"He recalled the efforts and pain he had to invest in the preparedness for attaining his purposes at different stages of his life. And look at the brilliance of the conspiracy of almighty; whenever he prepared hard and meticulously for a purpose he wanted to attain, he would invariably fail. He would feel bad, low and frustrated about the wastage of his investments. Most of his successes came when he had done the least preparation and was not even sure of the purpose...\n\n\"He had finally accepted; preparation and purpose had a strange relationship. He wished to come to terms with the realization that preparation for a purpose is a misnomer. The preparedness is required for something, which is uncertain. His father would often tell him – 'Hope for the best and be prepared for the worst'. He realized it that what is certain and a definite purpose is what falls in the realm of hope. Preparedness is required for what is uncertain and does not form a purpose. If preparedness and purpose were linear realities, there would have been far more success stories on earth. Success remains as handful exceptions... success has traditionally been referred to as object of desire, hope and dreams. The real world faces the trouble that failures are the rule and most people are least prepared for it....\n\n\"He realized; one needs to be in the state of 'readiness', not for a specific purpose but as life in general. One needs not to 'prepare' but to be 'ready'. Readiness itself is the larger purpose for all preparedness. Preparedness is only a process whereas readiness is the end product; the final destination. The readiness is required not only for failures but also for successes. Handling success is more tedious task than handling failures. Success requires larger readiness.\n\n\"He smiled as he realized he had attained readiness. When you attain, you go blank. The zero is the highest point of readiness. He thanked the almighty for bestowing upon him a series of crises and loads of stupidities ... this journey to zero was necessary. He however prayed that the wisdom of zero remained with him. He wished to continue with his 'readiness' and not be part of any 'preparedness' in future.\n\n\"He had realized his stupidity. The road ahead was clear to him. He had gone past the fear factor in his life. And, the readiness, the ultimate and exalted beingness was just beyond the confines of the fear factor. He remembered, how since childhood, he struggled to conquer a series of fears he thought he was born with. He grew up demolishing them but only to realize that he had added more fears than he overpowered.\n\n\"The existential fears were replaced by fears that society offloaded on him. He grew up accepting so many benchmarks of successes and goodness that his family, his peer group, his seniors, icons and leaders lined up for him to follow. He grew up preparing hard to win all the benchmarks and in time got more apprehensive of failures and loses.\n\n\"Even successes that came when he expected them the least, made him bury deeper in the abyss of fear. Each success only stretched the benchmarks and prolonged the process of preparedness. The fear never went away; rather it grew up engulfing his beingness totally. He could not understand the elusiveness of the state of readiness; a stage after reaching where he could say he had finally arrived. He could not understand the hydra-headedness of the fear; that no doubt egged him to higher stage of preparedness but never allowed him the basic urge of a lasting satisfaction. He had even started believing that life is a never-ending 'preparedness-struggle' for the elusive satisfaction of 'readiness'...\n\n\"The state of zero, the state of quintessential readiness, the state of unattached consciousness made him realize for the first time what wins all fears. It taught him to rise above the process of preparedness to the ultimate stage of readiness. He truly understood why he felt fearless. When it happens; all good and cherished ideals of humanity fall in your lap, they fill your being. It embodies all goodness – honesty, innocence, transparency, selflessness and egolessness and above all the compassion.\n\n\"It does the magic.... It makes the willful merger of individualism into the collectivity; the individuality of 'I' dissolving into the collectivity of 'us'. It fills the heart and mind with compassion and when compassion plays the music in the heart, all cherished ideals and goodness of humanity get drawn into the mind. The fear goes away the next moment as this happens. He thanked the almighty for making him understand the fear factor and its dynamics.\n\n\"Readiness leads you to the door.... the entry point of zero but then, you have to step ahead to be into the zero. Every human being is blessed by the almighty to attain this readiness as all human beings are given at least one chance to experience it.\n\n\"To the blessed ones is revealed the music of compassion....\n\n\"... It leads one to the ultimate empowerment of self – the ability to forgive. When forgiveness becomes the first instinct, it is a sure sign that the stage of readiness has been attained. The forgiveness is attaining the blank, the zero, the ultimate empowerment, the readiness. You accept nothing - no pride, no self, no ego, no 'I' and you give everything as you forgive....\"\n\nNow, we come back to our question at hand. This metaphor about two key terms of life-living, in response to the milieus we all live in – Preparedness and Readiness may be applied to marriages and their overall supposition of being a difficult terrain. It may help...\n\nIdeally, falling in love is somehow option-less as it is instinctive. We are definitively wired to be in perpetuity of love. That is why falling in love needs no readiness. It is beyond choice and conscious decision and that is why, almost everyone is in love or wishes to be in love. Being in love is akin to being in the stage of 'preparedness'.\n\nHowever, opting to get marriage is not visceral. It is always a conscious choice, unlike love. We all feel and accept that love happens, it is not done or made to happen. Marriage however, does not happen; it has to be made to happen. Definitively, marriage is the stage of 'readiness'.\n\nThis preparedness and readiness dualism itself is the cause of our question – this disinclination towards marriage. We all are very well aware that even this instinctive love is so much infested with precarious emotions, unsettled behavior-action and often some inexplicable pains. This surely stands as a big factor to feel a strange 'fear' for the inevitability called marriage.\n\nIt is rather interesting that most young men and women seldom admit that they are averse to marriage. However, what they do is – 'Procrastination Politics'. They all are finding enough implicit or explicit causes to procrastinate marriage decision.\n\nThis procrastination attitude itself points out to the fact that there is a lurking 'fear-factor' (about definitive 'success' of an 'enterprise'), not only about love and marriages but also about many key decisions of life. This procrastination is the precarious personality positioning of a mind consciousness, which somehow stands trapped in 'mismanagement of fears'. The young ones can handle 'fear' but they are procrastinating as this head-on desire to 'manage fear' is missing. We all know and accept that 'dar ke aage jeet hai'(there is victory beyond fear), but the procrastination to step beyond it takes control.\n\nIf we begin to list cause for this procrastination attitude, there can be a list, which may be endless. However, the core causality is what the above metaphor about 'preparedness' and 'readiness' lists as.\n\nI humbly repeat what has been said above – The ultimate empowerment of self, the definitive 'readiness' in life is – The Ability To Forgive. No doubt, not only love and marriages, but in all our relationships, we and others can commit mistakes. We are all humans and we do err. However, we all need to arrive at the stage of 'Readiness' – This compassionate consciousness, which is empowered with the ability to forgive. Attitude towards success needs more compassion than attitude towards failures.\n\nWhen forgiveness becomes the first instinct, it is a sure sign that the stage of readiness has been attained. The forgiveness is attaining the blank, the zero, the ultimate empowerment, the readiness. You accept nothing - no pride, no self, no ego, no 'I' and you give everything as you forgive....\n\nAs this happens, love is divine and marriage becomes this abode of resplendent readiness. As this happens, we all shall begin to accept that neither love, nor marriage, nor any relationship is the cause of trouble. The primary and core trouble is our own lack of 'readiness'. We all need to arrive at the stage of 'Readiness' – This Compassionate Consciousness...\n\nMoreover, to be more on the side of day-to-day pragmatism of the realism, we need to see and accept that desirability is not a readymade availability. Both – Desirability and Availability, do not seem to have a readymade Compatibility. Choices themselves are varied and what fits in to an individual may not be exactly what life serves or availability has the inventory for. This seems true for most things in life. Still, nothing seems impossible, though difficult it may seem, as human skills and faculties should never say 'no', even if a yes is always tough to come by...!\n\nThis is a common conundrum. You go shopping and it would be tough to buy even a shirt, which is precisely to what you have in mind and what you have imagined should be your best choice. Think of looking for a 'life-partner' and you shall surely admit, what has been said above – Desirability and Availability, do not seem to have a readymade Compatibility...!\n\nOften, the man a woman seeks or the vice-versa, seems to have evaporated from earth. Thankfully, if a woman gets her right man, it seems, this man is already in love with other or does not seem anyway interested. Or, worst, even when this right man becomes 'available', it seems, he is good but not the 'right package' for marriage or a lasting relationship...!\n\nPeople are already talking of two major global trends for humanity (do kindly accept some humor) –\n\n  1. Most American men are not willing to marry...!\n\n  2. Most Indian men and women are 'willing' but 'unsure', how to marry...!\n\nNo doubt, it is very crucial for both men and women to find the 'right package' in his or her partner. Life is already too tough, how can one afford to have 'not so smooth' marital life. This fear is already making both men and women, especially women feel scared of marriage...!\n\nSomehow, it is a very humble assertion that life has never been easy or complicated. It has been what it is. However, we, as individuals as well as collectively make our lives easy or complicated. It needs to be accepted that marriage, let alone 'good marriage' has never been easy in USA, India or anywhere. However, for both marriage and good marriage, this is probably the best time...!\n\nSomehow, it is a revisiting feeling in all of us as, how good it could be if we all could know, where is my 'Mr. Right' or 'Ms. Right'. The simple trouble is – There always is not only one or two 'Mr. Rights' or 'Ms. Rights' but so many of them. If we cannot hit it 'right' then there must be something not so 'right' with the way we look for them...!\n\nLet us admit it with heart-felt simplicity and innocent sincerity that people are different and their choices shall always be different. What we need, the availability is always there, though not in over-supply but sufficient! After all one needs only one person for marriage...!\n\nThe simple solution is two way –\n\n  1. You have to be very categorically defined and logically correct in ascertaining what is your choice for a life-partner; what is your desirability...\n\n  2. You have to prioritize your choices as what I cannot compromise on and what I can as, we all need to accept that 'righteousness' seldom comes in 'readymade package'.\n\nAs this you have done. You have to be ready for the last Big Thing – That is to acquire this fruitfully right 'Communication' to tell others as what you truly want.\n\nBeing young is so very beautifully marvelous endowment. Being young means, you are always open to learning and evolving fast and sure. So, meet your man or woman and be what you as a young person are best at – Communication of Sincerity...!\n\nAsk your man or woman, 'I am open to adjustments for compatibilities as married life would seek from both of us. Still, there are a few things, I need to see and find in my life-partner. We need to sit and talk over them. I accept that idealism is not readymade but there has to be some basic ingredients in a man and woman to hit the road to evolving together towards this idealism. Let us spare our best of time and space and invest on each other so that we could be assured of this 'primary-chemistry'. If yes, we are there; if not, we shall happily wish each other the best in life as marriage must always be the union of two people, who can evolve together and hit the road to joys and prosperity together.'\n\nThe words are not important. Everyone can have his or her own choice of words but the sincerity of intent and artistry of open and compassionate communication is a must. Everyone must have this artistry of sincerely innocent communication to ensure that his or her desirability gets the best availability, for which he or she has the right compatibility.\n\nSomehow, it is a humble but sad acceptance that in contemporary times, young men and women are not communicating well or, they are also not very sure as what is their own set of chosen compatibility. Recent surveys have suggested that most young men and women are marrying even when they are not sure –\n\n  1. What they want out of marriage and especially expect from their partners...\n\n  2. What they want to do in their lives and how marriage fits in into their larger scheme of life and living priorities...\n\nNaturally, confused desirability, with inefficient communication lands young men and women in precarious availability. And as marriages are hitting precarious availability, the worst hit is the compatibility. Love's labor lost is what sets it. Let this not happen...\n\n**\n\nCHAPTER 11\n\nLove Facilitates Cooperation and Accommodation to Attain\n\nPrimary and Common Aim of Collective Wellness...\n\nSomehow, much against the happy wishes of we all, one thing, which always surrounds the term, 'Relationships' is the 3Ms – Mystical-Magical-Marvel. People complain, how tough it is to 'comprehend' a person! One person, who loved someone more than his or her life, happens to turn into someone, who actually kills and destroys...\n\nRelationships, it seems to have been made for unmaking. How often, relationships end up with both sides having the common complaint – I never realized he/she was what he turned out to be!\n\nLet us try to understand this complication with a metaphor.\n\nWe all have one common problem. When we visit a person, we are made to sit in a room of his or her house. Where we are made to sit is surely his or her house. But the reality is that we are in the living room of the house and this is only part of his or her house, not the full house. We can say, this room is very well his or her house but it is not his or her complete house. Sitting in this room, if I believe that I know his or her entire house then I am a big fool.\n\nSo, when we visit someone's house, we actually often visit one 'room' of the many-roomed house. Though, we say, we visited his or her 'house'.\n\nHuman personalities are also the same. We all are like houses, our personalities having different rooms for different purposes. We get associated to people in the society as one room of this house but never as one whole house. It is not even possible. I come to your house but you can make me sit only in one room, never in all rooms of your house simultaneously. This is some trouble, which cannot be done away with, ever, even if in wishful thinking!\n\nI can say I visited your house but actually I visited only one room. We also 'visit' a person but meet only one small personality of his or her full persona. The problem is; we define this one room as whole house. So, I meet my beloved but this is only one small room of her 'big house'; I mean her personality. If I say that I know my beloved inside out and that's why I also know her whole personality completely, then I am stupid.\n\nIt is a difficult reality. Why talk about a visitor, it is your house but even you cannot live in all the rooms of your house at any given time. You actually live only in one room at a time. If you want to see your entire house, you cannot do it living inside it. You will have to come out of it and see it from a distance to get the picture of your whole house. Or, you 'rise above', to land at the roof to see the house in entirety. People usually do not even see their own personalities in full. How can they see other's personalities in completeness and totality? But the fact remains that we all live in houses with many rooms.\n\nSo, what does it lead to? Should we all live in 'one-room' house or move out of the multi-room house to see it in totality? Well, we have options. It is entirely up to your discretion.\n\nYour house is actually one single roof. Your architect has structured them by erecting walls to create different rooms for distinct purposes. You can choose to undo the walls and make the whole house one single room.\n\nOr, you can make every single room – the room of innocence and this way the entire house will become a space of singular and uniform innocence.\n\nRelationships are difficult, simply because we, our consciousnesses are also not simple mechanisms. Once we accept this hypothesis of split 'self', this ephemeral sense of 'I', we shall have better ease in accepting the complexities of relationships. That shall surely lead doors of larger wellness in relationships.\n\nHuman wellness and excellence has always been in understanding the complexities of life and living and when people ready themselves for love and intimate relationship, they need to be in high acceptance mode of the relativity of mind consciousnesses and cognitive diversities. Love is this magical artistry to do so. How?\n\nSomeone said it, \"I can find thousands of ways to stand you wrong and myself right and you can find thousand plus logic to do the same. However, both of us can be right at the same time and still not find any reasonable wrong if we are in love.\" What does this signify?\n\nThere can be as many interpretation of the statement as per different people's perception. Realism, almost always stands as one shade of perception, in somehow competitive mode to other perceptions. Therefore realisms are seldom the same for two people. So, does this mean, when two people are in love, they can see and accept a singular realism as they have commonality of perceptions?\n\nThis sounds like a postulation based on emotional hypothesis with little logical back up! However, the core issue is not about having commonality of perceptions and therefore falling for a singular realism. Nobody should accept that love makes two people in intimacy see and accept a common perception. It may happen but is not the cardinal rule or theory of love.\n\nThen, what the above-mentioned quote meant? How does it happen that two people can be both right at the same time and not see each other's wrong, when in love, even when they still stand to have different perceptions about a realism? This needs to be understood and that understanding makes us accept as how love should be accepted in our lives and why love is so important life-living realism for all of us.\n\nThere is a popular example about lives of a group of people, who work together in a selected milieu. This is about mariners, who live together for 7-8 months on a 300-meter ship and most mariners accept that they have great fun and camaraderie when together. This is all about perceptions and core need of survival, for which our brains are wired.\n\nThe mariners are a small group of people on a very limited space and they are living their lives in a tough situation at sea, where every single day, there are so many challenges. Each person on the ship has to be in tune with others to ensure that the ship sails safely and they reach their destinations in time and good shape. Therefore, everyone is in a mindset of accommodation and cooperation for a common cause. This is core hypothesis.\n\nThere may be people with competing perceptions and ideas, still, they keep aside their differences and accept an accommodative and assimilative behavior and action, as only this can ensure not only his safety but also that of the ship. This then ensures wellness of all. This behavior is common for people working in mines, factories and other professions where life is at stake if cooperation and accommodation is not the primary instinct. The common goal of survival rises above all personal concerns and the road to mutuality is paved.\n\nLove facilitates this similar sense of cooperation and accommodation. The person in love ceases to think individually and his or her first instinct becomes a mindset where collective wellness is the primary and common aim. Usually, we all think of individual safety and wellness. However, often, life-living wellness needs cooperation and accommodation in collective living. Love enhances the space of cooperation and accommodation in the collective domain of two lives in intimacy. Therefore, even when two persons in love have competing perceptions and ideas about things, they do not bring it to the fore as their primary aim is collective wellness. The 'He' and 'She' in love accept that if 'She' is not well, 'He' too cannot feel happy and well and the vice-versa. This primary instinct for collective wellness is the magic of love.\n\nTherefore, as the above-mentioned quote states, love makes people agreeable, harmonious, cooperative and accommodative as the instinctive behavior and action shifts from individualistic wellness and satisfaction to collective wellness and joys. But this is just the first step. Lovers need to evolve together for good amount of time for this instinct of individualism to shift to collective accommodation and become primary one.\n\nGradually, as commonality and mutuality grows and evolves in time and space, the two people in love even start having common singular perceptions and that finally makes them see and accept singular realism of all things in life. This is fruition of love and intimacy.\n\n**\n\nCHAPTER 12\n\nEquanimity of Consciousness To 'Unlearn' Abstractions and\n\nIllusions of Subconscious Mind In Love and Life-Living Choices...\n\nIn the contemporary age and milieu of information-obesity, media-overdose and ever-competing markets as well as politics jostling to sneak in 'manipulated' information to tilt the 'perceptions' of average person in their favor, it is tough to attain and keep in constant possession one single thing – the Equanimity of Consciousness...!\n\nConsciousness is defined as 'emergent intangible information processing of multiverse of varied information by the brain, supplied by sensory and other routes from the milieus. Naturally, when there is massive over-flow of information; that too a heady mix of conflicting, competing and confusing information, the conscious mind is in mega flux. This is the situation apt for the subconscious mind to generate such perceptions, which are abstract and illusory – far away from realism and objective logic... Why?\n\nScience says – Conscious mind has its limitations in storing memory because, if subconscious mind is the size of a football field, conscious mind is only akin to the small goalpost. Naturally, when there is over-flow of information, most daily information is automatically assigned to the subconscious mind for storage. The conscious mind can process only limited information, useful only for immediate action-behavior requirements.\n\nIt is like, if we over-eat; body stores its extra calories in the form of fat in torso. The 'information-obesity' causes the extra info to store as 'fat' in subconscious mind domain. Over the period, if these 'fatty-information' in subconscious mind is not recalled for conscious decision-making, these information degenerate into 'abstractions' and begin to affect the health of conscious mind...\n\nAbstractions and illusions of subconscious mind primarily happen because the brain pathways, created by information, if not recalled often and not used for action-behavior decision-making, become weak and shallow. It is like, if a muddy road in jungle is not traversed often, shrubs grow up on them and they lose the clarity and distinct trajectory. As roads are less traversed, they begin to merge with jungle of trees and shrubs and finally very faintly visible. Similar thing happens with brain pathways. Most often, many information pathways in stored in subconscious minds are not recalled and revisited often, making them blurred and this leads the brain to generate abstractions and illusory 'perceptions'.\n\nIdeally, a wise human being is expected to make all his or her life-living choices and decisions on the basis of 'conscious mind', recalling very vividly all possible 'experiences' stored in subconscious and then opting out a decision based on Equanimity of Consciousness. Conscious decisions are based on such information pathways of brain states, which are clear, categorically replicable and very decisively recallable. This happens when our conscious mind makes decisions based on tested and verified information, accepted and stored as objective data and facts.\n\nThis means – life-living decisions; small or big; should never be made on the basis of 'abstractions', 'perceptions' 'unrealistic stored info in memory' and 'jumbled up experiences' of the subconscious mind, in auto-mode situation. Rather, all major, even small action-behavior of life-living must be based on clear, categorical and objectively replicable data or facts of conscious mind, after leisurely deliberations...\n\nFor example, we all say and belief so many 'perceptions' in our ambient milieus as 'true', which are based on 'abstractions', 'perceptions' 'unrealistic facts in memory' and 'jumbled up experiences' and seldom on clear, categorical and objectively replicable data or facts. Like, we say – 'Oh! People have become very selfish'. Or we say – 'Young people are not caring their parents'. Or we say – 'True love is no more available as people are more into lust'. There are thousands of such baseless perceptions, which average person speaks of as it were true! How and why...?\n\nWhere are the relevant data or researched factsheets to substantiate such subjective perceptions, which a section of people may have developed and begun to accept as fact? The fact is – even in most developed nations like USA or UK, there are very little social-cultural-behavioral data and even when some data are available, they are neither 'real-time' data nor representative of the truth or fact at national landscape. They just represent some shade of a realism. And, they often fail to meet the high benchmark of objectivity...\n\nWe all need to accept that contemporary society and culture are presenting a very tough challenge for our overall wellness. The complexities that modern milieus have, are very suitable for our subconscious mind, which offers loads of 'perceptions', based on abstractions only. We all need to be in high Equanimity of Conscious Mind. We need to stop and test the validity of all 'populist perceptions', before making any small or big life-living choices.\n\nWe need to understand why and how our subconscious minds must never be allowed to be in driver's seat of our life-vehicle as this place belongs to our higher conscious mind. Let us understand this conscious-subconscious dualism in the domain of love as this we all have faced and keep facing.\n\nGlobally, despite differences in definition of love, most wise of humanity believe and accept that love has three ingredients – Intimacy, Passion and Compassion (Commitment). Now, it is common knowledge that first element of intimacy is common in all forms of love, be it a friend or any relationship, even common fraternity with larger humanity. However, passion is associated with 'erotic love', or what we may say as man-woman love...\n\nWe all know how passion is an element of subconscious mind as passion is instinctive; we are all wired this way. In any erotic love, passion comes naturally and is visceral. Believe science as it says about our brain mechanism that a man can fall in love and feel passionate about so many women at one time. So can a woman; even when it is popular belief that love happens only once; with one and especially a woman loves only once...!\n\nHowever, lasting, true and practical man-woman love happens when the 'conscious' element of compassion or 'commitment' is attached with love. Commitment with one man or one woman for marriage and family is not a subconscious (visceral) decision but a very conscious (Learnt/Evolved behavior) choice. Science also says – even when a man or woman can love so many, they can commit in love with only one at one point of time and space. That is why, passion in erotic love is subconscious auto-behavior, can happen for many; however, commitment is conscious decision-making, opted out for only one person.\n\nNow, it is very important to see and accept that even this conscious choice of 'commitment' can always have grains of influences in subconscious mind. The experiences and memories in subconscious mind, with all its abstractions also influence conscious choice of commitment.\n\nFor example psychologists would say – Usually, a woman shall commit to a man, who has more personality traits common with her father, if she happens to love her father well. This shall happen, even when the same woman shall be more interested in having a lover or lovers, who are sharply uncommon to her father. The elements in subconscious, our stored perceptions as well as the 'collective unconscious' (the socio-cultural traditions in our unconscious mind), always stand up to influence our conscious choice of 'commitment', even when we shall never be aware about it and shall seldom accept...\n\nThat is why, it is advised that in all small or big life-living conscious choices, in all our small and big commitments, we make to self and others, we must be aware that in all our so-called 'conscious' choices and commitments, our subconscious mind experiences and memories may creep in. This shall add abstractions, illusions and virtuality in our conscious decisions. This is dangerous for us as it surely compromises our wellness...\n\nThat is why, even when the milieu around you becomes so complex that it adds loads of conflicts and confusion, even when the media adds loads of 'manipulated' info and even when the politics and popular cultures attempt to influence your 'choices and commitments', manipulating info, data and facts to create such perceptions, which are far away from reality and truth, never ever get into a reactionary decision-making mode. Stop, think, ask yourself for more info, more concrete data, more discrete factsheets, more logical premises and perspectives, more holistic than partial data...!\n\nIn love and in all life-living decisions, choices and commitments must be made based only on clear, categorical and objectively replicable data or facts of our 'conscious mind and never on 'abstractions', 'perceptions' 'unrealistic facts in memory' and 'jumbled up experiences' of our subconscious mind. This is the recipe of true success and lasting wellness.\n\n#####\n\nAccept My Gratitude\n\nWriting something is a daunting task as there is always a lurking apprehension of it not being of utility for some readers. I however feel at ease, because of my faith in magnanimity of readers. I am happily sure; you shall forgive if my efforts could not be up to your expectations. Thank you so much for being with me and allowing me to share with you. Wish you an empowered life; with the prosperity of the consciousness.\n\n**\n\nAbout The Author\n\nPeople say, what conspire to make you what you finally become are always behind the veil of intangibility. Someone called it 'Intangible-Affectors'. Inquisitiveness was the soil, I was born with and the seeds, these intangible-affectors planted in me made me somewhat analytical. My long stint in media, in different capacities as journalist, as brand professional and strategic planning, conspired too! However, I must say it with all innocence at my behest that the chief conspirators of my making have been the loads of beautiful and multi-dimensional people, who traversed along me, in my life journey so far. The mutuality and innocence of love and compassion always prevailed and magically worked as the catalyst in my learning and most importantly, unlearning from these people. Unconsciously, these amazing people also worked out to be the live theatres of my experiments with my life's scripts. I, sharing with you as a writer, is essentially my very modest way to express my gratitude for all of them. In my stupidities is my innocence of love for all my beautifully worthy conspirators!\n\n**\n\nOther Titles By Santosh Jha\n\nOnlyNess\n\nLiterary Fiction: A novella about life-living choices from the perspective of a very successful contemporary woman: Word- 38,000 approx.\n\nShort Description:\n\nDumped by her billionaire fiancé, a resplendently beautiful woman, the reigning royalty of Hollywood's dream factory, lands herself in all sorts of woes – hospitalization for slipping pill overdose, bad Press, peer group backstabbing and paparazzi. She escapes to anonymity at India's Yoga capital but the threat of paparazzi follows. A young yogi bails her out and detours her to an unusual world where he introduces her to the super consciousness of 'Onlyness' within her. The redeemed empress unconsciously discovers her true elements being in linearity with that of the yogi and believes, she may be second time lucky. However, more shocks await her.\n\n**\n\nBack To Bliss: A Journey To Zero\n\nLiterary Fiction: Novel: A Love Story in contemporary culture of conflicts: Word- 78,000 approx.\n\nShort Description\n\nBattling against hypocrisies, sadomasochism and perfunctory pursuits of pop benchmarks of successes, he refuses the passion-oriented male worldview of karma and life's purposes. Metamorphosed by compassion, that love's innocence fills him with, he opts for a journey that takes him far away from the stupidity of self-worth, calculated in terms of personal utility, individualistic possession and unfettered consumption. Does he arrive?\n\n**\n\nProbability\n\nFiction: Inspirational Romantic story In Contemporary Milieu, with women's perspectives\n\nShort Description:\n\nHe wants this to happen. She is reluctant. He wishes the probability of mutuality to get a last full-blown opportunity to attain fruition and ultimate utility. Her mind is unsure of the validity of the enterprise itself; even as she has nothing against him. Finally, the raw and core instincts of bodies are invited to preside over the missing probability of mutuality. Does it work?\n\n**\n\nYou Didn't Care\n\nFiction>Romance>Contemporary Women\n\nShort Description:\n\nMost men want their women bare. However, when women decide to unclothe their consciousnesses off suffocating fabric of procrastination, men run away. A young woman, abandoned by her lover, bares it all for her 'ex' to see through. Because, she still loves him. Men need be in apt audience as a woman resonates her bosom baritone. A 'neurotic' woman's monologue, men need to engage with.\n\nTags: Intimacy, Mutuality, Neurosis, Wellness, Gender-Conflict, Deep Consciousness, Contemporary Culture\n\n**\n\nNurturance\n\nFiction: A Novelette about a young woman's viewpoints on contemporary male world.\n\nShort Description:\n\nA young beautiful woman barely in her twenties awaits this one someone, like her mom's bedtime story of the prince riding a white horse, as he is her only hope of nurturance, she desperately needs. She seeks his assuring touches all over her body and soul, especially where the nasty world has lacerated her most. She wants to be taken in, feel happy to be naked in the shine of his golden intent.\n\n**\n\nAutobiography Of A Duffer\n\nFiction: Humour and Wit. Words: 16000 approx.\n\nShort Description:\n\nA witty but insightful narration of 'normal' and 'orderly' cultural realisms of contemporary world, from the perspective of a young duffer. This duffer believes; a normal person should know how this world looks to a stupid, whom the world loves to label 'abnormal' and 'disordered', to truly visualize realities of benchmarking. This duffer's wife asked him to make it different; he truly does it!\n\n**\n\nNot Man Enough\n\nFiction: Humour and Wit. Narrative on contemporary gender issues. Words: 7800 approx.\n\nShort Description:\n\nThe protagonist's advocacy against mass accusation on him being 'not man enough'. He also contests the parallel label of 'not woman enough'. The jury is already out as he puts up his witty advocacy against the pop cultural benchmarks over gender appropriates and massive peer pressure on men and women alike for being 'something enough'. It is for readers to preside on the judgment. He surely needs your vote. Do bail him out!\n\n**\n\nBe Lonely, Be Your Best\n\nShort Description:\n\nThis book challenges the populist idea that loneliness is a bad and sad thing. Loneliness is rather very facilitative mechanism of body-mind for wellness and personal excellence. It is innate call of instincts for self-actualization of potentials within, to attain excellence. It answers core question as 'What's Wrong' with things around and within us, listing ways to use loneliness for happiness.\n\nTags: Consciousness, Loneliness, Meditation, Metacognition, Self Actualization, Neo-evolution, Homeostasis\n\n**\n\nCyclicality Of Causality: Book Of Life-Utility Ideas\n\nInsightful, inspiring and empowering Life-Utility dialogues on – Happiness, Solutions, Intelligence, Love, Dreams, Loneliness, Consciousness, Realism, Life-Choices, Poise, Success, Self-Worth, Excellence, Meditation, Wisdom, Objectivity, Life-Management, Destiny and Gender. Utility of book has got to do with decisive, straight-forward and objectively logical words. Centarlity of theme is of holism, no ingredients of populism and platitude. For people, who have consciousness for novelty and iconoclastic insinuations.\n\n**\n\nWhy We Flop In Love\n\nNon-Fiction: Science of Love and Intimacy, Relationship Issues and Attitudinal viewpoints. Word- 20,000 approx.\n\nShort Description:\n\nLove is ideally accepted with three elements of Mystery, Magic and Marvel. The three 'M's' land most of us in inexplicable troubles and pains of love. The magnificent dualism is – love's mystery makes it flamboyantly attractive and joyful. Still, the mysticism engenders loads of confusion, making many of us flop in love. Success of love is in non-dualistic positioning, which is simple and practical realism, most of us refuse to accept.\n\n**\n\nWhy Do You Want To Change Me?\n\nNon-Fiction: Life-Living Wellness and Personal Empowerment. Words: 21800 approx.\n\nShort description:\n\nAccept the question of 'change' and let the magic and marvel unravel. The question of change is the key, which opens the doors of life-living wellness and personal excellence. The book is about unleashing your potential by simply unlocking the consciousness. Won't you open the doors, if someone knocks to deliver the Christmas Cake! Innocence of reception is beauty. Be beautiful and bountiful.\n\n**\n\nNaked Solutions Of Dressed Up Life Woes\n\nNon-Fiction: Empowering Consciousness, Life Wellness and Personal Excellence: word- 23,000 approx.\n\nShort Description:\n\nThe world we live in; is what it is, neither good nor bad. It is people, who are the 'Theatre' of all pains as well as joys. The human mind is the most capable and instinctively galvanized mechanism to solve big problems. Still, the same human consciousness is the most potent dilemma. The core trouble is, modern day problems are so 'dressed up'; partly by our complex environment and partly by our consciousness that we fail to see the 'naked' reality of the nature of problems. We can see them clearly, if we 'undress' them. It is an art, we all can master. How?\n\n**\n\nHabitual Hero: The Art Of Winning\n\nNon-Fiction: Science of Success, Life Wellness and Personal Excellence: word- 19,000 approx.\n\nShort Description:\n\nIn all of us, there is this definite 'winner', the genius of this universe. However, this champion is what we can label as 'Random Warrior', as it wins but not always. We all have the determination, patience, courage, discipline and the mastery to be a sure and sustained 'all-weather-all-season-Hero'. However, as many of us miss the knowledge and acceptance of this 'mechanism of winning', this warrior turns out to be only a 'random' winner, unable to sustain the artistry of winning, to qualify as a 'Habitual Hero'.\n\n**\n\nMaya And Leela: Utility In Life's Futility\n\nNon-Fiction: Science of Spiritualism, Life philosophy and Intellectual Connect: Word- 21,000 approx.\n\nShort Description:\n\nMost of us, living in modern contemporary world of complexities, conflicts and confusion, have questions as what a good and righteous person should consider as 'perpetual-utility' in life, amidst the general feeling of 'futility' of everything around. What is this singular life and living positioning, which can make us live the life in a perpetually joyous state of consciousness, endowed with 'true utilities', shunning away all those 'futilities', which land us in pain and regret?\n\n**\n\nI Am God\n\nNon-Fiction: Holistic and Analytical Perspective Building on Divinity Issues.\n\nShort Description:\n\nAvant-Garde expressions on divinity. It internalizes the 3Ms: Mysticism-Marvel-Magic, with a novel & unique perspective of 3Cs: Consciousness-Cognition-Causality. It's about the Registry & Artistry of a Super-positioned Consciousness, which aligns the cardinal elements within Subjective Self, Milieus (within & outside) and Idea of Divinity in singular linearity. If God is in details, it's here.\n\n**\n\nWisdom Of Wellness: Perpetuity Of Poise Of Purpose\n\nNon-Fiction: Personalizing Spiritualism, Life Wellness, Paradigm Building. Words- 20,000 approx.\n\nShort Description:\n\nOne needs to be in lasting physical, emotional and ideational wellness. Tips, pills, and 'shoulds' abound; still, wellness is elusive. Wellness is largely a function of emotional 'poise' of consciousness. Wisdom of wellness is in being the 'master of mechanism', 'internalizing' the multifaceted life-living realisms and then, creating a personalized model of wellness. Nothing 'external' helps.\n\n**\n\nKarta: Life-Inspiring Essays On Cognition, Consciousness & Causality\n\nNon-Fiction: Essays on Life-Living Wellness and Personal Empowerment.\n\nShort Description:\n\nThe essays in this book unravel the Karta (subjective consciousness) from the perspective of the new thinking of 3Cs – Cognition, Consciousness and Causality. The effort is to make you – the Karta, assimilate the core idea as how a holistic, assimilative and integrative perspective of the 3Cs helps you in attaining and enhancing personal excellence and wellness. Makes you meet a new empowered you.\n\n**\n\nBare Basics\n\nNon-Fiction: Essays on Life-Living Wellness and Personal Empowerment.\n\nShort Description:\n\nEssays in this book journey into essentials – the bare-basics of empowering consciousness, life-living wellness & personal excellence. It's Scientific Philosophization. Truth can't be created, it's there to be deciphered. However, consciousness is localized; needs to be challenged to inch closer to decode truths of life. Words have no magic; they however help unravel the wonders of wellness.\n\n**\n\nAcceptance: Of Hypothesis Of Hypocrisy In Intimacy\n\nNon-Fiction: Short and Nippy Narrative on Contemporary Cultural Realism of Relationship.\n\nShort Description:\n\nThis word Acceptance is so magical, has a world of wellness embedded in it. Sadly, acceptance may not truly seem a contemporary intellectualism. Intellect is rather the brutal killer of innocence and simplicity of acceptance. Worst, this word is definitely always the first casualty in intimate relationships. Acceptance of a simple hypothesis of hypocrisy in intimacy however can be therapeutic.\n\n**\n\nYouth Sanity In Crazy Culture\n\nNon-fiction: Youth/teenage Issues of Sexual Behaviour and propriety, Life Choices and Personal Management. Words- 17,000 approx.\n\nShort Description:\n\nIn contemporary culture of hypocrisy, conflict and confusion, where even adults are in a flux over benchmarks of real success and self-worth, the young being advised about sanity and sensibility, lands as big joke for them. The youth needs a worldview, enabling them to see through the hypocrisy and perplexity of pop culture, offering them a date with real intelligence and life realism.\n\n**\n\nYoung, Restless And In Love\n\nNon-Fiction: Youth Empowerment and Wellness, Inspirational issues.\n\nShort Description:\n\nYoung-Restless-In Love is a life-living situation that lands you in randomly probabilistic eventualities beyond your control. The potential this combination unleashes, needs great amount of preparedness and ultimate readiness, as most life possessions are squandered for want of proper usage. This latent energy can destroy your life-living wellness, if not handled dexterously. Read the way out.\n\n**\n\nHey Beautiful, You Are The Hope\n\nNon-Fiction: Women's Empowerment, Feminist Issues and Personal Empowerment.\n\nShort Description:\n\nAn essay addressed to modern women of wisdom, aimed at empowering her consciousness to enhance her life-living wellness & personal excellence. As feminism enters its maturity-phase in new millennium, core ideas about true woman, her contemporary mind consciousness and fresh agenda need to be revisited. New-age women hold keys to sanity of humanity, as she is the 'dominant gender' in every sense.\n\n**\n\nIndia Beyond Stampede Of Stupidities\n\nNon-Fiction: Indian Politics and Governance, Cultural Issues, Contemporary Troubles and solutions. Words: 13500 approx.\n\nShort Description:\n\nAn analytical commentary on how energies of ideas for socio-political changes, create a stampede of stupidities, when they are reactive and participants of change fail to observe assimilative perspectives, compromising the sanity of system, which could weed out loads of aggression, chaos and conflicts from the soil of struggle. A global reality, elaborated with India as a case study.\n\n**\n\nDecipher Destiny: Decode God's Will\n\nNon-fiction: Science of Eventualities, Insight into Patterns of Life and Living and Empowering Consciousness. Words- 20,000 approx.\n\nShort Description:\n\nThere is a mechanism to all 'probabilities' in life, which we call God's will. This mechanism has its own energy and patterns of possibilities. Those, who succeed, decipher this mechanism and the patterns, which are there for anyone to see. We attain success and excellence, as we align our personal energy with this energy of the cosmic mechanism. God's will is then in linearity with our wish.\n\n**\n\nRedeem & Reinvent The Art Of Lost Wellness\n\nNon-Fiction: Essays on Empowering Consciousness, Life Wellness, Personal Excellence.\n\nShort Description:\n\nThe world we live is what it is, neither good nor bad. It is neutral and objective. Wellness is largely individual onus. As we acquire and practice those life skills, which make life wellness a beautiful journey for us, our mind is attuned to them. We then have an auto-mechanism for larger wellness. Time to test our Life Skill Quotient (LSQ)!\n\n**\n\nEnter New Year A New You\n\nNon-Fiction: Utility Narrative on Attitudes and Perspectives on New Year eve.\n\nShort Description:\n\nFive simple steps, which can make us a super person, endowed with required skills and personal resources to: Solve our problems; Be a winner in life situations; Be great in love and relationships; Have a personal spiritual wellness model and Accept a worldview that makes us cool and collected, to have a happier and better New Year. The book has been revised and new contents added.\n\n**\n\nWellness And Excellence Mantra For 2017\n\nShort Description:\n\nA New Year has nothing special. However, there is always something marvelously exceptional in your resolve and courage to infuse novelty and creativity in all your enterprises in the next 365-day-frame, to add meaningful dimensions to your wellness and excellence. The countdown for the most productive and propitious year of your life begins. Hit the road. Let this book help you in your readiness.\n\n**\n\nभारत का सांस्कृतिक विकास: जरूरत आत्म-अन्वेषण की\n\nएक बेहद मासूम सी गुफतगूं की आरजू, शब्दों की सतरंगी पोशाक पहनने की जिद ठाने बैठी थी। मैंने उसे डराया भी कि शब्दों से संवाद की बदगुमानी अच्छी नहीं। पर जिद के आगे झुकना पड़ा। आपसे गुजारिश और यह उम्मीद भी कि आपकी स्वीकृति उसी प्रेम व करुणा के भावों में मिलेगी, जिस भाव में अभिव्यक्ति की अल्हड़ सी कोशिश है। लफ्जों की इस नौरंगी-नार की पजीराई कीजिए। इस संवाद से दिलरुबाई कीजिए।\n\n****\n\nDo Write To Me.\n\nsjwrite@gmail.com\n\nConnect With Santosh Jha\n\nGoogle Plus:  https://plus.google.com/101687486477768503275/posts?partnerid=ogpy0\n\nBlog: http://zeroistic.blogspot.in\n\nSmashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/SantoshJha\n\nQuora: https://www.quora.com/profile/Santosh-Jha-23\n", "meta": {"pile_set_name": "BookCorpus2"}}
{"text": " \nCopyright © 2000 J. W. Irelan\n\nhttp://www.jeanneirelan.com/\n\nThis is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.\n\nTHE MOHO PROVISO\n\nBy\n\nJEANNE IRELAN\n\n### Acknowledgments\n\nBob Beaver, geologist and friend, for suggesting the premise of this story, based on his knowledge of both the contra-theory for hydrocarbon formation and the original government expedition.\n\nThe staff at Vanderbilt Dyer Observatory for taking the time, graciously given, to explain the layout of the observatory and the method and record-keeping as applied to the novel.\n\nThe late Dr. Joseph Watlington, for his verification on the accuracy of the astronomical information expressed in the novel.\n\nMembers of The Writers Group at Volunteer State Community College, particularly Betty Nelson, Dan Jewell, Al Lawler, Janet Blecha, and David Flynn, who through the years have given their fair, helpful and well considered critiques.\n\n1\n\nHouston, April 1980\n\nMackenzie walked into Fowler's domain as he'd done hundreds of times before when summoned. His firm, athletic stride was muffled by a carpet of a luxurious denseness, but Fowler's secretary didn't miss his entry even though she was obviously immersed in her work. Nora Belvedere looked up from what seemed to be a stack of certificates and gave him her professional smile. She hurriedly put her work aside and beat him to the doors of the president's office.\n\nMassive bronze things. More of Fowler's trophies, Mackenzie knew, these brought from some trip to the Middle East. Nora pulled one of the brass handle rings. The door glided open on silent hinges.\n\n\"Mr. Fox is expecting you,\" she said grandly, extending her hand with the perfect rosy nails. She also had prominent teeth and wore stylish suits, all of which added up to an elegant gorgon.\n\nFowler had called the meeting at an inconvenient time. Mackenzie had been finishing up his lecture notes for the graduate seminar on petroleum geology at the university. Class began at six o'clock. Now he had to attend this impromptu meeting that couldn't be ignored. He'd checked his watch before leaving his office. Not quite four o'clock. Knowing the president of Gravely and Fox Drilling as he did, the subject of the meeting might be of great consequence. It might also be simply the spilling over of ideas from Fowler's brain, always brimming with suggestions, schemes, anxieties. He liked to have a convenient sounding board at the ready.\n\nFowler was seated behind the polished black marble slab that served as his work center. It was as clean of papers as an altar for sacrifice. But it was not to be a private meeting. To each side of Fowler, Jeremy Willis and Leo Danzig sat like acolytes waiting on the priest to begin the service. Mackenzie nodded to his colleagues and waited for the ceremonies to begin. He smiled inwardly at the thought of Fowler as priest, a very earthy one, to be sure, with his square jaw, fleshy nose, his florid face, the result of rich foods and regular doses of Jack Daniels.\n\nFowler Fox placed his hands on his table top and pressed down as if doing isometric exercises. \"Sit down, Mac.\" He waited until Mackenzie got situated in the chair he designated for him. It was directly opposite Fowler.\n\n\"I just got word from my friend in Washington about a little situation that'll affect us.\" He intoned the words in his high pitched voice, now a little strident. He removed a cigar from his breast pocket and squeezed it gently between meaty fingers.\n\n\"Which is--?\" Mac watched with bland interest as Fowler applied a gold cigar cutter to begin the slow and complicated operation of getting a cigar well lighted. Working for Fowler for fourteen years as first Chief Geologist and then Vice President of Exploration had honed many qualities, not the least of which was patience with Fowler's habits.\n\n\"We're going to be faced with the threat of a new oil embargo. It hasn't been announced yet. I just got the call. The upshot is, the U.S. and our western allies plus Japan will soon have their balls in a vise.\"\n\nOPEC again. It was the familiar scare tactic, but as Fowler related the terms of the threat, one with a chilling difference.\n\"The U. S. of A. and its allies can expect an embargo unless they help to satisfy the craving of the Arab nations to eliminate Israel as a sovereign state. No limited objectives this time, nothing about occupied zones.\"\n\nIt sounded as if they meant business--with the U. S. caught in the middle, Fowler went on. The demands were outrageous and if the U. S. acquiesced in the interests of oil economics would sound the death knell to Israel's security. Mainly, there was to be no support with materiel like weapons or planes, no economic support--or the free world would be cut off from OPEC oil indefinitely. The Mideast suppliers could manage just fine supplying the Soviet bloc countries and the Far East until the West gave in and let Israel fight on its own.\n\n\"We didn't do too badly in '73 off that embargo,\" said Jeremy Willis cautiously, swiveling his long neck from Fowler to the others. His head jerked a couple of times with a nervous tic. Tall and lean, the Vice President of Finance frequently gave Mackenzie the unfortunate impression of an agitated snake. But, Mackenzie considered, the man never seemed to get agitated over the right things.\n\n\"Oil prices will shoot up even more,\" Willis continued hopefully, \"which should help us out in the long run.\"\n\n\"Why would they embargo us now?\" asked Leo Danzig. The Research and Development chief exhibited his usual blinking perplexity about world affairs. His domain was in equipment and experiments to the exclusion of almost everything else. \"There's an oil glut. Right?\"\n\nFowler snorted. \"They've got the glut, my friend, not us! We like to think we're so fucking independent, but we're not, and our allies definitely are not. The Arab oil cartel needs to play its trump card while it's still strong enough.\"\n\nLeo sat back in his chair, which was a little out of the circle and unscrewed his pen. At least ten years older than Mackenzie and Jeremy, with a graying crew cut and in shirt sleeves, he seemed less a member of an executive team than an inattentive clerk there to record the meeting. He fiddled with his Mont Blanc, scratching at a note pad on his lap and then fishing out a spare cartridge from his breast pocket.\n\nFowler, however, seemed oblivious to Leo's manipulations and with his bright blue eyes, as cold as marble, was looking back and forth at Jeremy and Mackenzie for their responses.\n\n\"So how are the negotiators going to handle it?\" Mackenzie asked. He was vaguely aware of Leo's movements out of the corner of his eye–his notepad slipping off his lap, testing the point of his pen on the back of his hand, fingering the old cartridge. He finally put it in his pocket.\n\n\"The details I got are sketchy, but I understand the State Department is very worried.\"\n\nFowler rolled the end of his cigar in the ashtray. He lifted his eyes to the ceiling as if reading a message inscribed there and said out loud what everyone knew: The oil producing countries had economic leverage over the non-oil producing Arabs. What they decided was law. The crisis was probably precipitated by the radical religious element with their organized opposition to the non-Muslim world, spearheaded by the fanatic Muslim sect, the Shiites.\n\n\"Otherwise known to the West as the Shits.\" Fowler spread his wide mouth in a grin but sobered up instantly. \"The moderates seem to be going along with them.\"\n\n\"'The enemy of my enemy is my friend,'\" quoted Mackenzie softly. Holy War. What the West feared most from that region of the world. The Saudis, the self-proclaimed leader of OPEC, wouldn't mind if the Jihad began. They'd been quite vocal in their hatred of Israel. With the choice between Israel or oil, and the Soviets lurking behind the scenes, the U. S. and her allies were caught between a rock and a hard place. Would–could–the administration actually let Israel disappear after all the years of support? Hard to believe. Yet nothing like this threat to the U. S. economy had ever come up as a wedge between the two nations.\n\nBut there was business to be attended to.\n\nFowler looked at Mackenzie. \"See to a status report on the company's rigs operating in the Mid East.\"\n\nMackenzie nodded. \"Egypt will probably be a neutral port. It could come in handy if we need to shore up our rigs with more security.\"\n\nFowler was on his feet pouring drinks at the inlaid cabinet. He handed Mackenzie his Chivas Regal and water.\n\n\"Any changes at our domestic drilling sites?\" Mackenzie asked. He took a large pull of the drink. Ordinarily, he wouldn't touch alcohol before driving to class. He'd take this one drink, though. He needed it. His scalp was beginning to prickle as he contemplated the implications of this threat. He sipped the smooth Scotch, feeling oddly detached from business concerns. He half-noted Fowler's suggestions as he formulated what he must say to his boss after the others left.\n\nFowler walked around with the glasses, the excellent host, Jeremy's vodka and tonic, Leo's Perrier.\n\n\"I think,\" he said, \"we have to be prepared for the long haul. Increased exploration, deeper drilling, you know the routine. We'll need some relief from Washington, though, on the regulations.\" He wheeled around and pointed a finger as large as his cigar at Mackenzie.\n\n\"Mac, you need to talk to Sanderson with the oil and gas lobby in Washington.\"\n\nMackenzie expected that. Even if the negotiators were to soften the demands of OPEC, there was bound to be a public outcry for less dependence on imported oil. Realistically, they could figure the U. S. would try to hold out as long as possible. The Jewish lobby soon would be putting serious pressure on government officials. But OPEC wouldn't cave in quickly--maybe never.\n\n\"How about a contingency budget, Fowler?\" asked Willis. \"Our priorities may shift, and we'll need to plan how to allocate our resources.\"\n\n\"Good, good.\" Then he turned to the engineer, raising his voice, as if to a child. \"Also, Leo, I want that butterfly drill bit field tested and ready to go. We'll probably be going deeper than ever. How's the new Blowout Preventer coming?\"\n\n\"Oh, it's coming, Fowler. You had a great idea there. I've got Jeffrey Barron on it. He's a good man.\"\n\nFowler drained his glass of neat whiskey in several gulps. \"Any questions?\" he asked without interest. As usual, he'd thoroughly mapped out what he considered the real concerns.\n\nJeremy and Leo stood up like good lieutenants. As Jeremy left, he cast a baleful glance at Mackenzie, who had remained seated.\n\n\"You can't seriously think we'd let Israel go down the tubes?\" asked Mackenzie after the doors closed behind the others. As he spoke the measured words, he wondered if Fowler understood the implications of the specific use of \"we\" rather than the United States.\n\nFowler raised his shoulders and spread his hands; the gesture looked curiously Eastern. \"Why not? Eventually it will come to that. The West and Japan can't do without oil. We're not going to fight the Soviets over it either--won't risk offending their Arab friends. Face it. Israel as a sovereign state was bound to fail sooner or later.\"\n\n\"What happens when Israel starts fighting back?\"\n\n\"I suppose it will come to that.\" Fowler gave a snort of contempt. \"They still think they're the superpower of the Mid East. Oh, they're building a nuclear arsenal, sure, but it won't do them much good. Be blown to smithereens if they try anything. As far as conventional weapons, without U. S. arms and assistance backing them, they won't hold out for long. Their economy is to the hilt now. They could never support full scale war by themselves.\"\n\n\"And then, after Israel is 'eliminated,' who will the Jihad target for its next victim?\"\n\n\"They wouldn't dare touch the rest of us. They'll still need western technology, even if some of their idiot leaders want to crawl back into the twelfth century. Israel's always been the real thorn in their side.\"\n\nFowler leaned back with a pleased expression. \"Hell, if we finally drop Israel, we might even get back to the good times we had during the twenties and thirties. We brought those sand niggers into the modern world and they loved us for it.\" He gave a whinny of laughter.\n\nMackenzie wondered if Fowler had begun to slope off into senility. But no, this was the consummate Fowler, looking to profit from any situation. He gave his boss a stony look instead of a smile of bonhomie. He would have to say the words to him, after all.\n\n\"Well, then,\" said Fowler, rubbing his hands together, a dry, whisking sound. His cigar lay in the large stone ashtray, its smoke pluming to the upper reaches of the room. \"I think that's all for now. We'll talk more later about details.\"\n\n\"It's not quite all.\" Now or never. He'd caved in before at the time of the earlier embargo, but this was too much to swallow.\n\nFowler looked closely at Mackenzie and suddenly seemed to lose his energy and sink in his chair. The impeccable lines of his pearl gray silk suit crumpled into baggy, bulging disorder. He looked every bit his sixty-eight years.\n\n\"All right, Mac, what's wrong? You look as low as granny's ass. I knew something was wrong.\"\n\n\"How the hell am I supposed to feel?\"\n\nMackenzie stood up and went to the glass wall that extended from one end of the room to the other. Stretching out for miles was the distinctive and impressive skyline of Houston, as single-minded a city as any he knew. This city and the oil industry, a considerable part of the country's industrial high-tech complex, were built on doing business with the right people. He was part of the system and basically approved of it. Things had a way of sorting themselves out for the general good. But Fowler's response to this impending crisis wasn't good enough and it was up to him to make his boss see the truth and act on it.\n\n\"I can't go along with the reasoning,\" he said, finally, turning toward Fowler, \"not when you and I know how to stop the oil cartel from making this sort of threat--any sort of threat. They can't be allowed to control the fate of Israel based on their oil supremacy, for God's sake.\"\n\nFowler looked at Mackenzie but didn't speak.\n\n\"I mean, dammit, the Moho!\"\n\n\"I know what you meant, Mac.\"\n\nFowler clasped his hands tightly and began to knead them like a wad of dough. \"When are you going to forget about the Moho once and for all?\" His voice was reproachful, almost pleading. \"I think I know you so well, and then you say something stupid like that. You know the subject wasn't ever going to come up again.\"\n\n\"My God, Fowler, what will it take for you to consider it? How many people have to suffer--die, even, before we release the information? Would you let a country be annihilated?\"\n\n\"Sit down, Mac!\" Blotches of red stood high on his cheeks. \"Would you like to be one of the first to suffer if we spill the beans?\"\n\nMackenzie sat down but barely listened. Fowler's reminders of what he'd be risking were close to his heart. He'd already considered what it would mean if his income were suddenly cut, his work suspended--maybe indefinitely. With disclosure, the company, which played a key role in the expedition, would take the brunt of it. Thousands would suffer from the loss of jobs or the services and products now provided.\n\nFowler stood up again, squaring his thick shoulders as he recited the familiar litany. \"We built this company, Gravely and I, starting with one used steam rig in 1927. Now we have five wholly-owned subsidiaries, a drilling school for rig hands, and most important, the respect of the industry. Do you want to be the instrument that destroys all that?\"\n\n\"But if we come clean, the public wouldn't necessarily take revenge for our actions, would they? The conditions aren't the same as they were in 1967.\"\n\n\"Hell, no, not the same. Worse.\"\n\nFowler threaded his way through the obvious--that oil was up past thirty dollars a barrel, and that was to their advantage. But it was the nature of the Moho that was the problem.\n\n\"If any nation only needs to drill one hole to supply themselves with oil, Gravely and Fox, not to mention other drilling companies, will be kaput.\"\n\nMackenzie remained silent, gritting his teeth. Let him have his say.\n\n\"We're in the hole drilling business, remember,\" Fowler added with a fierce frown. \"Also, if the conspiracy came to light don't think the public would forgive us. Not on your life! There'd be a congressional investigation–they authorized the exploration project in the first place, you know. All the shit'd be exposed. We'd be hung, drawn, and quartered.\"\n\nMackenzie tried again. His palms were damp with anxiety. Not since that first confrontation thirteen years earlier had he felt so desperate to convince the old man.\n\n\"But we weren't alone. The President of the United States, Fowler!\"\n\n\"Doesn't matter a whit. You, me, Leo would still be disgraced, probably go to jail. Gravely is safe in the nursing home. Doesn't know his ass from his elbow. The CIA bloke--no fear, and he's retired besides. Elkins, the President's man, died last year, but our poor late President's name would be forever besmirched.\" Fowler's voice took on a mournful quality. \"He's been reviled enough. I couldn't stand to see his memory tarnished because of me.\" Mackenzie turned away, embarrassed at the performance, and began to pace. He'd rather not track the lone tear that might be squeezed from Fowler's eye.\n\n\"We've been over this before, Fowler, during the '73-'74 embargo, and I know your position, but surely there must be some way to use the resources of the Moho against the Arabs. They have to know they're not indispensable.\"\n\n\"Frankly, Mac, it's simply not in our interests to release the information, not economically, politically, or legally. That's the long and short of it.\"\n\n\"But how about morally, Fowler?\" The question hung in the air for several seconds and Mackenzie wondered if this little nudge would hit home.\n\nFowler took out a spotless handkerchief, blew his nose loudly, and replaced it in his breast pocket. \"Mac, your life is going real good. Think about it for a minute.\" He paused and sat back in his chair contemplating Mackenzie.\n\nIt was true. Fowler didn't have to itemize. Tricia had seemed happy for once, satisfied with the generous alimony; Rick would be traveling in Europe this summer, then back to MIT in the fall; Mackenzie's own prestige in the oil business couldn't be higher; his social life seemed at its apex: Fowler had recently put him up for membership at River Oaks Country Club, and he just might well get in this year to that prestigious club. Was this what he had given up his integrity to achieve? He guessed it had been. What price conscience?\n\nFowler, sensing Mackenzie's mental debate, gave him a comradely wink. \"You're in a pretty good spot to take over the helm when I decide to retire. And that could be soon, very soon. Don't you know enough not to rock the boat?\"\n\nHis bright blue eyes seemed to bore holes into Mackenzie's own. It was a scene not unlike the one conducted in Fowler's little guest cabin aboard the Neptune Challenger, the state-of-the-art drill ship. Their conversation, like all conversations on board, had to rise above the constant muffled roar of four stabilizing thrusters that held the ship to a nearly immovable point on the ocean off the California coast. Thirteen years ago the conversation took place, though in Mackenzie's memory it was as vivid as if it had taken place yesterday.\n\nThey had been arguing, or rather Fowler had taken the time to override Mackenzie's objections that the news of the discovery couldn't be told.\n\n\"Keep it under wraps?\" Mackenzie sputtered, incredulous. As Project Geologist, only one year on the job and fresh from a four-year stint in the Navy, Mackenzie was keenly aware of his low status with the Vice President of Gravely and Fox. Still, he felt a certain confidence from being selected for the expedition and inspired by the significance of the discovery to speak his piece. Of course, this sort of scientific enterprise was for political purposes, not for enhancing the coffers of Gravely and Fox, so a junior geologist would have been the perfect choice to be a dogs body for the powers that be. But he had to try, so he calmed himself and began to marshal his best arguments and presented them to his boss.\n\n\"This proves it, Fowler; our find upsets the textbook theories. Believe me when I say that with this information, the academics will have to recant their theory of fossil degeneration as the source of oil. It's an incredible discovery. And weren't we sponsored by the National Science Foundation to do exactly what we did?\"\n\n\"Not quite. We were hoping to prove the negative.\" Fox stood up in the tiny cabin, reserved for his occasional visits from Houston. \"Damn this low ceiling,\" he muttered, keeping his head slightly bowed. The boots he always wore elevated him even more above the average man. \"Nobody needs to know we've disproved the accepted geological theory.\"\n\nHe walked to the porthole and looked at the sea, which seemed to have grown muscles as heavy weather threatened. \"I gotta get out of here pronto. You, too, and Leo. I want both you boys to come to Washington with me. We'll pick up Mr. Gravely and our things in Houston and take the first flight out. We've got a meeting with the President, a private meeting.\"\n\nFowler then turned to Mackenzie and calmly looked into his eyes, eyes that must have revealed his confusion and anger. The big man said nothing more but simply stared him down. No wonder, Mackenzie thought, he had a reputation of intimidating anyone who opposed him--from congressmen to caliphs. End of discussion. On to plan B.\n\n\"You've got a good future ahead of you, boy,\" Fowler threw over his shoulder as he exited the cabin. \"I'm glad you see our problem for what it is.\"\n\nSubsequently, the events took on the quality of a dream with Mackenzie as Fowler's puppet doing what he knew had to be done. He'd always wondered if he'd been taken along for corporate glory--and incidently becoming Fowler's fair haired boy--for playing his part so well through the years. Or was it because Fowler actually appreciated his talents? He could never be quite sure.\n\nNow in Fowler's office, Mackenzie closed his eyes for a moment, acknowledging defeat again--at least for the time being. He'd lived for the last thirteen years with a secret sense of himself as the next thing to a kept woman. Ambitious, yes, from the time of his college years, but he never thought he'd have to sacrifice integrity to get the things he and Tricia had talked about. The good life--that was their plan and oil would be the ticket. They'd met at Kansas U. and married shortly after graduation and Mackenzie's commissioning into the Navy. His service had been an interruption in his plans, but without ROTC he couldn't have afforded a university education, so they both patiently waited until the right opportunity came along.\n\nLater, he discovered Tricia had evidently wanted more that the luxuries he been able to provide in the years with Gravely and Fox. What she wanted had never been made absolutely clear, however, and Mackenzie had schooled himself to not dwell on such a painful matter. He prided himself on his Midwestern emotional control, which Tricia professed to despise. Speculation after the fact was a useless, frustrating piece of work. Not for him.\n\nWith Mackenzie relinquishing his argument–for the moment, Fowler clapped a paternal hand on his subordinate's shoulder. They stood eye to eye. \"I've been real proud of you, Mac. I don't know what I'd have done without you all these years.\"\n\n*\n\nMackenzie got a drink of water at the fountain while waiting for the elevator. His mouth was dry and had a bad taste. Couldn't have been the Scotch.\n\nWhen the elevator door opened, he saw Leo standing alone. They both nodded but didn't speak as Mackenzie got on and stood next to him. They watched the numbers flash by. The elevator was an executive express for the thirty-third and thirty-fourth floors.\n\nPoor Leo. He'd done all right at Gravely and Fox under Fowler's patronage, but those who worked closely with him knew him to be inadequate in all but the most routine work. When Mackenzie first met him before he took up his duties aboard the Neptune Challenger, Mackenzie attributed Leo's weakness, his uncertainty, to a mind-set quite different from Mackenzie's. But in the close quarters of the drill ship, he'd found the engineer be to exactly what he seemed--Fowler's tool and quite valuable in his inadequacies for Fowler's purposes.\n\nHe'd played his part sufficiently well to seemingly become one of Fowler's chosen. At the moment of crisis, when the ship and all aboard were threatened with extinction, Leo had come through, however haltingly, to save the Neptune Challenger and, ironically, to validate the doomed project. It was the most frightening event Mackenzie had ever witnessed:\n\nA warning light had begun to flash intermittently on Fowler's and Mackenzie's faces as they stood together in the glassed-in control room of the drill ship. It seemed to keep time to the blare of a horn as insistent as a bleat of pain. They turned in unison to the heat and pressure gauges that were blinking and oscillating. To twenty-nine-year-old Mac Haber, this was the geologist's nightmare come alive.\n\nFor months the always present threat of a well gone out of control hung over the ship with each bite of earth. They were at a great depth, over 24,000 feet beneath the bottom of the ocean off the California coast. Only beyond the land mass and well into the ocean depths was the crust of the earth thin enough to attempt such a drilling project. It was deeper than any sea drilling had gone before to that magically mysterious and hitherto unexplored region between the crust and mantel of the earth, the Mohorovichic discontinuity.\n\nNot since 1909 when Croatian seismologist Andrija Mohorovichic, while tracking seismic waves, discovered an anomaly in the area between crust and mantel had anyone ever breeched what he eventually termed the discontinuity. In this space all around the earth, both the Primary and Secondary waves changed velocity, suggesting a material other than rock, and then resumed the usual speed when entering the mantel. Now, the Neptune Challenger had finally penetrated this area. It was a risky drilling project, to be sure, and no one had expected it to be completely uneventful, though Mackenzie had been aware of some scientists' speculations that hydrocarbons indeed comprised the Moho. Certainly, only a very few had predicted they might hit the grand daddy of oil wells, and now, that was what seemed to be happening.\n\nThis was Mackenzie's first try at handling the threat of a blowout, a dreaded prospect for all petroleum geologists and engineers. He switched off the horn and got onto the intercom to the toolpusher on the drilling floor, who he could see was frantically sweating it out with the crew as they combated the rising deep earth pressure.\n\n\"What's your mud weight, Joe?\"\n\n\"Sixteen pounds per gallon.\"\n\n\"Get it up to nineteen, quick!\"\n\nJoe Scudder's sunburned face creased into furrows of doubt. But as an experienced drilling floor supervisor, he didn't have to be told twice. He gave a wave of assent and led several men to the mud tanks to prepare the heavier density mud. Time. That's what they needed to determine the extent of the problem and how to correct it.\n\n\"Where's Danzig?\" Fox growled.\n\nMackenzie looked out over the drilling floor and saw the engineer appear at a flight of stairs leading from the bottom of the vessel. He spent most of his time there, tinkering with the engines. He bounded to the console and entered breathless.\n\n\"Is it trying to blow?\" he asked needlessly, scanning the gauges. \"What have you done for it, Mac?\"\n\n\"Mud weight to nineteen. It should take Joe about fifteen minutes.\"\n\n\"We'll never make it. Look at that pressure!\"\n\n\"Can you recommend anything else?\" Fox asked sarcastically.\n\n\"The temperature's been rising too,\" Mackenzie noted. \"Up to nearly 300 Fahrenheit. That complicates things.\" His mind was racing. Too heavy mud could crack the formation rock and instigate a blowout. But it just might work.\n\nDanzig turned to him. \"It's going to blow!\"\n\n\"No, by God,\" Fox said with deliberate emphasis, \"it won't.\"\n\nAll three men looked out onto the floor. Joe and several floor hands were at work at the mud tanks, but all other activity had stopped. The men stood quietly waiting, not from bravado, but because there was no place to go. If the well blew, the explosive force could break up the ship in a matter of minutes. The drilling mud had started to surge around the huge kelly bushing at the mouth of the well. Unable to restrain the increasing pressure and temperature, it was pulsating with a steady, menacing beat. Leo Danzig checked the dial again.\n\n\"It's past 15,000 psi.\"\n\n\"How high could it go?\" Fox asked him. \"Should we use the Blowout Preventer now?\"\n\nDanzig didn't answer but gave a brief, uncertain look at Mackenzie. The geologist was watching the gauge as it rode even higher with its rocketing cargo of energy. It was now registering 18,000 pounds per square inch and still climbing.\n\n\"Oil and gas flooding the well bore,\" Fox muttered. \"I still can't believe it.\"\n\nMackenzie concentrated on watching the progress of the needle with occasional glances at the drill floor. Within a few minutes it had passed 20,500 psi with a corresponding push of mud above the bushing. Joe was signaling that the heavier mud was nearly ready, but would it be soon enough?\n\n\"We won't be able to hold it, Fowler,\" Mac said tensely. Everything he'd learned about extracting from deep reserves seemed worthless at the moment. They were making history.\n\n\"The Blowout Preventer?\"\n\nFowler had no sooner spoken than a fountain of viscous mud and oil spewed from the well with the force of a bomb. It was starting to go. Clouds of steam shot above the ship like the spume of a whale. Crewmen tried to back away from the torrent but were instantly covered with mud and oil. Joe Scudder ran to turn on the valve that would carry the flow to the recovery tank.\n\nLeo Danzig seemed frozen in place with clenched fists at his sides.\n\n\"Close the goddamned BOP rams,\" Fowler shouted at Leo.\n\nAt the command, the engineer leaped out of the console to a nearby control panel containing the hydraulic system for the Blowout Preventer. He switched on the motor, which gave out a deep throated roar that vibrated within the control room, and maneuvered the gears that would activate the experimental equipment. Although developed for this very purpose, the BOP had never been field tested to control this much force, not an unusual circumstance.\n\nThe console door stood open, and they caught the unmistakable odor of the gases associated with crude oil. Then the BOP gears meshed and the grating sound of steel on steel signaled the movement of the mechanism.\n\nThirty agonizing seconds passed before the men in the console felt the impact of the giant set of jaws, the equivalent size of several stories, closing the space between drilling steel and casing on the ocean floor. The mud pump gauge began to fall until it finally registered zero. \"Thank God it worked,\" Fox rasped. He took out a handkerchief and wiped his sweating face.\n\nMackenzie didn't reply but continued to monitor the dials that registered the newly blocked force. The threat from the mud pump pressure had ended, but his immediate concern was the shut-in pressure deep within the earth.\n\nIt had slowed its climb and was crawling upward in hairline degrees by the time Danzig returned to the console.\n\n\"It's leveling off at 15,000,\" said Mackenzie.\n\nLeo smiled wanly at Fox. \"We made it.\"\n\nMackenzie, too, looked at his superior. Fox's face was blotchy as he seemed to struggle with conflicting emotions. No one spoke until Joe Scudder entered the room with pieces of the exuded rock. Mackenzie thanked Scudder as he went back to the floor and then took the samples to his small lab along one wall of the console.\n\n\"No doubt about it,\" he said finally. \"This looks as good as any samples I've seen in the oil fields. The rock chips are saturated.\"\n\nFowler didn't answer but looked pensively onto the drill floor. Then he turned to Leo and snapped, \"Well, what are you waiting for? Put in a call for the wireline company to come by and get set up.\"\n\nAs the elevator sank in space, Mackenzie contemplated his colleague. Leo's future had been secure because of his role in the discovery. He was a weak man, but weak men could be led. He came to a decision. Not once since the shameful meeting in Washington thirteen years ago had the subject come up between them. No one could say the conspiracy hadn't worked.\n\n\"Leo,\" he said, having to clear his throat, \"I wanted to ask your opinion about this oil crisis.\"\n\n\"Oh, not me, Mac. You know I don't keep up with politics much. Just do my little job.\" He gave the elevator buttons a nervous grin.\n\n\"This concerns you. It's about . . . the agreement we made after our work on the Neptune Challenger.\"\n\n\"Mac!\" Leo looked around as if the elevator had ears. \"You know we were never to mention that. Why, I'd practically forgotten it.\" He clutched his briefcase and prepared to step out into the back hallway as the doors opened. A few people were emerging from other elevators but moving fast toward the parking area doors.\n\n\"Oh, did you now?\" Mackenzie kept pace with the fast moving Leo. \"Maybe the time's come to give it some more thought.\" He spoke softly into Leo's ear. \"Israel's under a real threat and so is the world economy. Don't you feel any obligation at all? We've got it in our power to do something.\"\n\n\"Do something? I don't quite understand, Mac.\" Leo marched through the building doors into the parking pavilion, closely followed by Mackenzie. In the dusky light, Leo stopped and took Mackenzie's arm and led him between two cars. \"We don't have any choice in keeping quiet, do we, Mac? What does Fowler say? Did you ask him?\"\n\nMackenzie shrugged. \"He said his position hasn't changed.\" He grasped Leo's shoulder. \"But it must, Leo. Can't we talk about it?\"\n\nMaybe there was a way to convince him. \"Confidentially, I'm pretty well assured of getting the presidency. Fowler's all but promised it to me, and you know he expects to retire sometime fairly soon.\"\n\n\"Really, Mac? That's great!\"\n\n\"If both of us presented evidence to the right people, we maybe could swing a deal, not be prosecuted.\"\n\nLeo nodded. \"I'll think about it, Mac. I don't like to go against Fowler, but if you take the lead--well, maybe.\" He backed toward his car, his words belying his intentions.\n\nMackenzie watched him in helpless frustration as Leo unlocked the door and slipped inside quickly. He then went to his own car. His silver Mercedes was parked a few cars away from Leo's Continental. He could see Leo remove his safety glasses and replace them with dark-tinted ones with gold-wire frames. Leo drove off without a glance in Mackenzie's direction.\n\nScared shitless, but perhaps malleable. He would try again to move Leo off the chosen path.\n\nHe listened for a moment to the soft hum of his motor before driving off. He switched on the air-conditioning full blast; he'd be damned if he'd stifle his conscience. Not this time. But he shouldn't feel contemptuous of the quaking Leo. Thirteen years ago both of them agreed to betray their professions, academic truth, the larger community, maybe even their country. Now, for him, the price had simply gotten too high to bear. Without giving it much thought, he vaguely realized he had stepped into a different and dangerous realm.\n\nMackenzie checked his car clock as he drove down the street, clogged with rush hour traffic. Motorists had a tendency to pull out of parking spots with the daring of stock car drivers. Even with the traffic, he should make it in plenty of time for his six o'clock class.\n\nTonight he would be summarizing the procedure he had invented five years earlier for evaluating the possibility of oil and gas deposits. His students in the petroleum geology seminar would, he hoped, be interested in the procedure both for academic and practical reasons. Gravely and Fox had stuck pretty much to drilling rather than exploration, but they'd been able to get a patent on Mackenzie's non-seismic procedure and had licensed some of the larger producers to use the method. The idea was paying off with some nice profits from licensing fees and royalties.\n\nFrom the time he had begun his employment with the then fairly small drilling company, it had been nothing but expansion and prosperity. Drilling contracts flooded in like the gushers they so frequently hit, thanks in large part to Project Moho. Everyone in the business was aware of a government sponsored attempt to reach the Moho in the mid-1060s. But it had come to a dead halt when the funding ran out. Then some determined high mucky-muck at the National Science Foundation had convinced enough in Congress to allocate more funds for another try at the Moho. As prime contractor of the second expedition, G and F had been put on the map. Being part of the expedition was a prestigious coup, but could not take the place of G and F's real business–digging for productive wells. Another more senior geologist employed by the firm was on those projects. Mackenzie well understood his place.\n\nStill, Project Moho would help his own reputation as a geologist, and he'd welcomed the chance to improve his lot. Who wouldn't? He was basically a small town Midwesterner, never quite comfortable with Texas swagger. To friends, associates, even the employees, he must have seemed dull by comparison to the bombastic Fowler or old man Gravely with his sophisticated, country club manners. Nonetheless, though he lived quietly by comparison, as the years went on and he had performed to Fowler's satisfaction, he himself lived well. He wondered now about his own good sense at his recent confrontation with his boss. Who but a madman would buck Fowler? He felt the weight of Fowler Fox's power and disapproval hovering over him.\n\nNot that Fowler never took his advice. Mackenzie, from the beginning, had an ace up his sleeve with his superior education, his training in geo-technics. Fowler had to take a back seat to that, though with his practical know-how the older man was on target with his decisions much of the time. Mackenzie had worked hard to become the expert, overtaking the other geologist and ultimately replacing the failing Gravely, who had been a competent geologist as well as daring entrepreneur. Mackenzie had disciplined his life to know more than anyone in the company about land drilling and off-shore geological formations. He was good and Fowler knew it. Still, in policy matters, Fowler reigned supreme. Not always by brute force, either. Mackenzie had seen the man work his will on boards of directors with canny, delicate maneuvers as if conducting an orchestra through a tricky passage.\n\nEven so, Fowler seemed more nervous than he would admit about the current crisis; but he wasn't weakening from his position. If he could just think of some way to make Fowler see the importance of doing the right thing. Mackenzie had come to believe Fowler and he had more than a business relationship. A suggestion of son and heir was apparent in his regard for Mackenzie. And why not? Fowler had no son of his own.\n\nBut underlying the seeming affection, interest, Fowler was all business. If it came to a showdown between what was for the good of the company and a mere human attachment, Fowler wouldn't hesitate to cut the bonds of friendship. For years, Mackenzie had told himself that Fowler's iron will was admirable. It had gotten things accomplished that lesser men would have failed at. Why now did he think Fowler would capitulate to Mackenzie's pleas?\n\nMackenzie recalled the strange meeting in the President's office in 1967–seven men, including the stranger in the corner–CIA? FBI? He had never been introduced. Besides him, there was Elkins, the president's Chief of Staff and old poker buddy of Fowler's; the President, brow furrowed with concern; Fowler; old man Gravely; Leo; and himself. Mackenzie had the hopeless sense that any attempt to bring out other considerations would fail and at the same time mark him as unreliable. He and Leo had sat like schoolboys listening to the plans to cover up the findings. Their project, according to the official report, would show it was terminated for \"lack of scientific data.\"\n\n\"The report will be falsified,\" Elkins had said in a matter-of-fact tone, glancing at the President, who nodded approvingly, \"and filed with the National Science Foundation. You folks can take care of that, can't you, make it believable? The real record-- what do you call it?\" he inquired of Fowler.\n\n\"The wireline tape,\" Fowler supplied.\n\n\"Yeah, well, it'll be filed away Very Top Secret--just for insurance, you understand.\"\n\nMackenzie had understood. There was to be no double-dealing, or the evidence could be trotted out to show complicity from not just the President and his staff, but from Gravely and Fox. They were bound together in a compact of deceit. Fowler had agreed without any objection. Then Mackenzie knew why a neophyte geologist had been selected for this mission along with a chicken-hearted engineer. They had suited the purposes of this small, select group of conspirators. Never was the world to know that the mysterious region of the earth between the crust and the mantle contained a vast reserve of oil--the origin of all pools found in the world.\n\n\"How can you guarantee,\" Gravely asked the President, \"that the project can be immediately halted?\"\n\n\"No problem. I'll call in a couple of my favorite congressmen and they'll end it faster than a whore turning tricks. It's costs a hell of a lot, and,\" he said with that open, disarming smile, \"it's been fruitless. Right?\"\n\nEveryone except Mackenzie had nodded sagely. He didn't like it, but no one was paying attention to him anyhow. Their minds had been made up to secrecy, and the bogus report would clinch it.\n\nMackenzie remembered Leo conducting the wireline test himself that day. This would be the record that would verify their find: latitude and longitude, date, time, depth, heat, pressure, and the composition of material along the way to the bottom of the crust as it entered the Moho. After the wireline company had pulled alongside the drill ship, Fowler had explained to its engineer he'd use his own personnel to make a record of the data in the hole. Leo was perfectly capable of connecting the various delicate sensors to the graphing mechanism but hadn't up until then taken charge of the procedure. In a surprisingly short time, the job was completed with no hitches. Mackenzie watched as Fowler secured the thick, folded graph paper in the little iron safe in the ship's console.\n\n\"Make sure the safe goes with us to Houston,\" he'd ordered Mackenzie. That was the closest Mackenzie had ever come to laying hands on that record.\n\nMackenzie shifted the gears down and heard the motor hum to a slower revolutions per minute as he braked the 450 SL to let in a car ahead of him. Most of the time, he'd agreed to Fowler handling the difficult choices, including some rather unsavory but not, he hoped, dishonest business deals. He'd objected to certain decisions, and sometimes Fowler acquiesced to his point of view, but in the main, he gladly let Fowler run the show.\n\nBut the Moho was different, always and forever different. He could never really forget it or justify his complicity. The secret had eroded his pride in himself as a scientist as well. Even his discussions at his seminar seemed tainted as he spoke of traditional methods of extraction, knowing they would have been outmoded if the Moho was publicized. If he couldn't reveal the discovery publically, he'd always had an urge to talk about it to someone, to share the excitement of the discovery and its possibilities. But there had never been anyone. Those involved wouldn't discuss it; Tricia had never known, never even suspected during the twelve years they had been married. She wouldn't have wanted to know.\n\nBriefly, he thought about his ex-wife. They seldom spoke nowadays except to confer about their son. His mind turned from Tricia to another woman. She would be very interested in the findings at the Moho.\n\n*\n\nLeo Danzig, like Mackenzie, was also well on his way to his destination. Anxiety was robbing him of the most enjoyable time of day for him. The stereo was playing his favorite easy listening music, which usually relaxed him, but that conversation with Mac had really thrown him. He felt as if he had been shoved in front of a gun. He took some deep breaths and turned his head gingerly on a stiff neck. This was the time of day when he could forget the agonies of his job--holding his own with Mac and Willis, keeping up with technological developments, managing personnel in his department.\n\nHe liked the drive on Allen Parkway, swinging into Kirby Drive, and then--a straight shot to San Felipe and on to his home in Tanglewood. Mary had gone to visit her sister and see her parents at the retirement home in Dallas. He relished the quiet of his den.\n\nHis chest felt tight and he rubbed it, wondering if the hiatal hernia was acting up. Stress would do that. He felt sickish, his drive ruined. He had hoped he wouldn't have to worry any more about his part in the Moho expedition and what had transpired afterward. It had taken him years to put that fateful time behind him. Pray God the crisis would evaporate so Mac could let the matter fade away again.\n\nHe didn't notice the car parked across the street from his house as he pulled in the driveway and drove down the long curving drive. The garage door opened remotely at the touch of his finger. The garage was neat with workbench and tool organizers. He began to hum to himself as he wiped the dust from the car with a soft cloth, the activity soothing. He was just about to enter through the kitchen when the side door to the garage opened and two men came in.\n\n\"What--\" Leo stared, his slow, orderly mind trying to compute who they might be. Insurance men? Car trouble?\n\n\"Let's go inside, my friend,\" said the darker of the two. He wore a mustache; both were in summer weight suits.\n\n\"Who are you?\" he asked firmly, his hand still on the door knob. But the man took his hand in an iron grip and pushed him into the kitchen.\n\nOnce inside, the other man struck at Leo's head with a heavy pipe. Leo's cry of protest was bitten off. He lay on the floor, numb with pain, his senses stunned. All he could do was watch with tortured eyes as the man lowered the weapon for another blow. He hit Leo's head several more times until his skull resembled an overripe tomato. The man with the mustache fished around in Leo's pants pockets and removed his billfold. He nodded and they left by the garage door. The whole operation took less than five minutes.\n\n2\n\nFrom nearly the beginning of fall term, Mackenzie and Teléah had had a casual, friendly relationship. He had started out knowing no one except his department head--not unusual for an evening adjunct instructor. He'd been assigned a classroom in the Space Science Building, one of the buildings regularly open for night classes.\n\nAs it turned out, his room had been next to Teléah's, and sometimes, after dismissing his class a little early, he had overheard snatches of her lectures on astronomy. Her voice was low and musical, her speech accented. He'd glanced in and seen a slender, lovely woman in her mid- to late thirties with a cascade of dark hair.\n\nThen one evening they had met after class when she had literally bumped into him as he walked down the hall and she swung out of her classroom.\n\nThey had both apologized and laughed.\n\n\"I teach next door,\" Mackenzie explained. \"A graduate seminar on petroleum geology. I'm Mackenzie Haber.\"\n\n\"Te-léah Dav-in,\" she pronounced carefully, holding out her hand. \"I am on sabbatical from Hebrew University in Jerusalem. My field is astrophysics.\" Her English was correct but slightly stilted.\n\n\"Will you be here the rest of the year?\" He was conscious of violet-blue eyes, fringed by thick, dark lashes.\n\nShe nodded as they turned and began to walk toward the exit. \"Yes, but it's very difficult. My husband is dead, a military man, who was killed in the Yom Kippur War. But my mother offered to stay with my children. It seemed better to leave them in school there. They are twelve and fourteen. I miss them terribly!\"\n\nShe was disarmingly open and Mackenzie warmed to her immediately. She was a beautiful, exotic looking woman, and he was intrigued by her expressive face and voice.\n\n\"I suppose this year will be a boon to your career.\"\n\n\"Oh, absolutely. Competition for academic positions is quite keen in Israel. I'm working on my doctorate, and here I can use the facilities for my research project on the early evolution of the solar system.\"\n\nThey had parted as colleagues, and through the weeks, months, had become friendly enough to have an occasional cup of coffee in the lounge before or after class. Teléah was not only a fine theorist but also, to Mackenzie's untutored eye, like a rare flower. He was attracted by her dualities--serious and quixotic, cosmopolitan and nationalistic. On the personal level, however, there was nothing doing--no question of their quasi-professional relationship advancing to anything more interesting. She had by her all business manner made that clear. But that had not prevented him from indulging in a few harmless fantasies. She would soon leave for Israel and be out of his life forever. He would take what he could get--the smile, those lovely eyes that would smoulder, he was sure, in the right circumstances. In the meantime, conversations with her were a treat.\n\nNow as he pulled into the parking lot at the university, his thoughts still on Teléah, Fowler's words about the threatened embargo and the implications for Israel took on a new meaning. He must inform Teléah if she hadn't already heard from her consul. She planned to go back to her home in a matter of weeks. She might be able to get an earlier flight. But would passenger service to Israel be curtailed? Shameful to admit, he took some selfish pleasure in the thought that she might not be leaving so soon after all.\n\nUntil he met her, Mackenzie hadn't realized how stagnant his social life had become and how much he had missed talking to an intelligent, attractive woman. Even better, one who understood something of the world of pure science, a world he had almost left behind. They'd had many a conversation that had tested his knowledge. He found it invigorating, delightful. In all their prior conversations about scientific matters, he'd had only one uncomfortable moment when he out-and-out lied. He still felt rotten about it.\n\n\"I don't have the advantage of you, Mackenzie,\" she had told him one evening after class, \"in doing on-site research. How lovely it would be to be able to hop into my personal space ship and take samples from a few interesting stars. At best, the earth is my laboratory, too, in a theoretic way, of course.\" The conversation had continued with her posing a question to him. They were in the lounge drinking coffee.\n\n\"How could the spontaneous conversion of organic matter into hydrocarbons--oil--have taken place on earth, as geologists claim, under the conditions of maximum unavailable energy?\"\n\nShe was expressing the same concern of the geophysicist Racines, who had cited the second law of thermodynamics as a problem for the prevailing theory of hydrocarbon formation. Mackenzie knew the answer to her question, knew it well enough to give personal evidence, but he was constrained by the long-ago agreement to keep silent.\n\n\"How can matter,\" she persisted, \"that is in a state of high potential energy, like hydrocarbons, have developed from matter that is essentially burned out, such as decaying vegetable matter? It is logically insupportable according to entropy.\"\n\nMackenzie had made an effort to express a thoughtful-sounding opinion on the contradiction she had posed. He had to resort to what the academic geological community staunchly maintained--that it didn't seem to make sense, but, he said with a hypocritical shrug, what other explanation but fossil degeneration could account for vast pools of oil and gas in specified areas?\n\nHe didn't mention the one anomaly that disturbed even the textbook geologists. Hydrocarbons were occasionally found in igneous rock formations as well as the usual sedimentary rock. Very upsetting to admit that oil appeared in crevices of \"fire rock,\" which formed during the earth's cooling. Mackenzie had to assume from his research and subsequently the discovery at the Moho, that such pools were merely throttled or siphoned deposits from the Moho that settled into fissures in the rock.\n\nNow, with the crisis looming destructively over her nation, he wanted to speak the truth. He believed he had been unfairly coerced into silence. If the secret of the Moho had been brought into the open, surely a way could have been found to monitor its use equitably. He believed that more than ever now.\n\nIt seemed important that he tell Teléah about this. Maybe he would be able to give her the comfort of hope. Maybe, too, she could help him decide what would be the best approach to his problem. Yet he was amazed that he was planning to take such a step. How very unlike him! Giving up control. It was a tremendous risk, yet one he seemed bound to take.\n\n*\n\nTeléah Davin, as visiting professor after nearly an entire school year, was feeling much less the outsider as she dismissed her class with a nod and left the classroom. No questions from eager students tonight. She was surprised to see Mackenzie Haber waiting for her in the hall. Sometimes they saw each other on the way in or out of class--the rooms were next door, but he had never before seemed to seek her out.\n\nShe smiled at him, but kept her expression impersonal as always. He was too attractive, too admiring of her, to let herself flirt. Although moderately tall herself, a little over five feet seven inches, she had to look up to him even in heels. Her husband had been only two inches taller than she, and Chaim, her old friend now at the Consulate in Houston, although heavily built, was even shorter. Mackenzie's hazel eyes were serious tonight; he looked troubled.\n\n\"Teléah, I waited until you finished so I could talk to you for a minute.\"\n\nHis manner seemed very different, and her mind flew to her children. But why would he be the one to notify her of any problems? How absurd! Chaim, keeping up on her interests with his hour-by-hour information at the Consulate, would see to that. She turned to walk down the hallway with Mackenzie by her side.\n\n\"Have you gotten any word yet about the new threat to Israel from OPEC?\"\n\nShe stopped in her tracks. \"What is it now?\" Her face felt hot, but she concentrated on keeping her composure. She was aware that Americans thought all Jews were highly emotional.\n\n\"I've just heard about it myself, ahead of the newspapers and TV, maybe several days ahead or even longer. But I thought you should know if you haven't heard that your country is in trouble. There's a proposal by A-OPEC to embargo the U. S. and others in the Western Alliance unless we stop our support of Israel–militarily and economically.\"\n\n\"No, no!\" Her mind was spinning. What would be the immediate consequences? Was her nation now at war–again? But couldn't Chaim have let her know? Anger assailed her for a moment. She felt suddenly dizzy, lightheaded. She grasped at Mackenzie's arm for support, and he led her to a bench along the wall.\n\n\"I'm sorry if I shocked you. I thought you should know as soon as possible. I wondered if you'd heard from your friend at the Consulate.\"\n\n\"No. I've been out since early afternoon shopping. I went directly to my class without stopping at my apartment. This comes out of the blue.\" She covered her face with her hands and murmured, \"My children. I must be with them.\"\n\n\"Yes, I thought about that. Surely you can make some arrangements to leave early. You've only got one more class session and finals. Something could be arranged. Better yet, why don't you see about getting your boy and girl over here? It could get pretty dangerous in Israel sooner than we might think.\"\n\n\"That's possible, of course. I don't know. I'll have to talk to Chaim. Tonight, if I can get through to him. If others in Houston know, then the Consulate will be a madhouse.\" She stood up and Mackenzie handed her briefcase. Her hands were shaking so much she could hardly grasp the handle.\n\n\"Hey, you can't drive like that. Let me take you home.\"\n\n\"No, I'll manage. But if you would, please follow me so we can talk. I live practically around the corner.\"\n\nThey walked to the parking lot, Mackenzie filling her in on what he knew about the threat. Teléah groaned aloud.\n\n\"Will we never be allowed to live in peace!\"\n\nHe had no answer for her.\n\nTeléah's apartment was in a once fine section of town, which was undergoing some sporadic renovation, \"a transitional neighborhood, the realtor calls it,\" Teléah had earlier joked. Her place was a former potting shed, a fairly commodious place for that purpose but not so for living quarters, she'd pointed out wryly.\n\nInside, she turned on lights and ushered Mackenzie to the tiny kitchenette at one end of the room. He looked surprised to see such a shabby place. No wonder–she'd soon found it was worse than what most students had to put up with. But it was temporary, she had told herself, and she could manage with such inconveniences for just this school year.\n\nWhile Teléah went to phone Chaim, Mackenzie, at her direction, found the coffee and the small aluminum pot.\n\nShe dialed several times before she got through to her old friend. She held the phone to her ear for some time without speaking while Chaim told her what he knew. It was much the same as Mackenzie's explanation.\n\n\"No chance of an earlier flight?\"\n\nAfter the negative reply, she said in a plaintive voice, \"But, Chaim, I can't stay away from Ireina and Ben during this time.\" Could she come by the Consulate tomorrow afternoon? Yes? Thank God. She might have a better chance to make arrangements in person.\n\nShe hung up the phone and stood without moving for a long silent moment. Mackenzie busied himself with getting out the mugs. \"Milk or sugar?\" he called.\n\n\"Black is fine. But help yourself.\" She sank into a chair.\n\n\"So,\" Mackenzie said, taking her a brimming mugful. \"What did your friend say about the situation from the Consulate's point of view?\" He settled himself on the lumpy couch.\n\n\"It's very bad. Israel is on alert. Air traffic has been cut back to minimal flights. I probably can't get back any sooner unless the situation is resolved immediately.\"\n\n\"God!\" Mackenzie breathed. \"I wouldn't count on that.\"\n\n\"Why? Surely the United States wouldn't . . .\" Her voice trailed off in uncertainty.\n\n\"Maybe the United States wouldn't agree to such conditions to end the embargo, at least not in the long run, but our allies might not object that much. Saving Israel at the cost of their own economy? No way. But there's bound to be a hell of a lot of talk on all sides, which will take some time.\"\n\n\"That terrifies me. I feel so helpless, so far away.\"\n\n\"When are you scheduled to go back?\"\n\n\"The first of June. After classes are over I must confer with my advisor about my dissertation. I plan to finish it in Israel.\" She shrugged. \"I may never complete it now.\"\n\nMackenzie seemed to nod absently while Teléah spoke about her plans. She broke off and looked at him expectantly.\n\n\"I'm sorry. I've been thinking how to tell you this. There's a way, I believe, to save Israel from this threat. I know how peculiar this must sound, but believe me, it's true.\n\n\"Look, Teléah, the Arabs are in control because they have the bulk of oil resources, right?\"\n\nShe nodded, looking puzzled.\n\n\"What if virtually every nation could have all the oil and gas it needed without having to have land rights?\"\n\n\"But that is ridiculous. No country would voluntarily give up their land rights, especially not the Arab nations. They took them away from U. S. companies. What point do you make?\"\n\n\"What I have to tell you has such far-reaching implications I can hardly comprehend them all myself. Thirteen, almost fourteen years ago I was involved in a deep sea drilling expedition that made a really fantastic discovery.\"\n\n\"This is beginning to sound very mysterious and intriguing,\" she said softly, watching his face with interest. His eyes had grown bright with an inner light she'd not seen before.\n\n\"I like to think I was a reluctant participant, but I was part of a conspiracy to cover up a critically important scientific discovery. And I mean important in every way--scientifically, economically, and politically.\"\n\n\"But this great discovery--what is it? Why haven't others come upon it without your information?\"\n\n\"Because it's at a great depth under the ocean--or that's where it's most practical to drill-- and it requires highly specialized equipment to locate it, besides a ton of money. But I don't think it'll be discovered mainly because its location flies in the face of accepted geological theory.\"\n\nShe stared at him with a puzzled frown but said nothing.\n\n\"It's an oil field, of course, which was not deposited by fossil degeneration, but in the initial cooling of the earth. Our discovery explains the composition of the Mohorovicic discontinuity as predicted by a South American geophysicist. You were right; the accepted theory of hydrocarbon formation is false. It's unscientific. That's why it doesn't make sense as far as entropy is concerned.\"\n\n\"You mean to tell me you discovered the secret of the mysterious Moho?\" Teléah gazed at him in wonder. \"It corresponds, too, with the discovery of hydrocarbons on the moons of Saturn. But this could stop the threat! You would have the wolf by his ears.\" For the first time since hearing the news of the embargo, she felt happy, excited.\n\n\"With this discovery, scientifically documented, Arab OPEC would lose its hold on its client nations. No more blackmail--economic or political.\"\n\n\"But for you, what? There's obviously a problem with this.\"\n\n\"A big problem. I'd be jeopardizing everyone who was involved in the conspiracy, including some high officials. No one I've spoken to wants to go public--at least not for the time being. I'd be risking my career, maybe even my life. This information was never to come out.\"\n\n\"Oh, Mackenzie. This is terribly serious.\" She thought for a moment. \"But you might win fame if you stop the Arabs from their blackmail.\"\n\n\"I don't look for much acclaim from this.\" He frowned. \"But even if I say to hell with the consequences and go through with the disclosure, it's the documentation that worries me.\"\n\n\"You haven't access to records?\"\n\nMackenzie gave a negative nod. \"I was hardly in a position to demand it, even for my own protection. The big cheeses always have had me where they could control me. So far, I've had nothing to prove my case.\"\n\n\"Nothing? They kept no records?\"\n\n\"Oh, yes. I know there were some phoney public records. But the actual record of the find was filed away as Very Top Secret.\" He reflected, sipping the lukewarm coffee. \"I seem to be at a dead end.\"\n\n\"What if you announced to officials in your government that you were party to the deception and explained why. Wouldn't there be some kind of investigation? Maybe you could arrange matters ahead of time so that you and the others wouldn't be prosecuted.\"\n\n\"Maybe, but without something to substantiate my claim, it would be easy to put me down as a crackpot. Congressional investigations can be very messy and sometimes fruitless. I'm helpless to prove it if the others deny the story and the official record doesn't back me up. I have no idea where the actual record is stored. And then there's the possibility of the secret files being flagged with an order to destroy them if world events threaten to expose the conspiracy. With attention suddenly concentrated on oil . . . .\" He gave a hopeless shrug.\n\n\"But,\" Teléah broke in, \"what if your officials did get hold of the secret file? Couldn't they–oh, I don't know, open up the Moho without exposing you and the other conspirators?\"\n\nMackenzie gave short laugh. \"You don't think they'd allow a previous Administration to get off scot free, do you? The news about the conspiracy would be the hottest scandal since Watergate. More so. There'd be no stopping the news hounds. And that's only the first layer of consequences.\"\n\nHe was right, of course. She kept forgetting how big and loose the government here was, how free the press. Israel had always maintained tighter controls, particularly when it was in jeopardy. The threats had been too close, too frequent to have a completely free society.\n\n\"Why not let the information about oil at the Moho slip out? Maybe if it gained currency in oil circles, a new expedition could be formed.\"\n\n\"No, that won't work either. There have been other theoretical suggestions since Racines' theory was published in the fifties, but like him, the others who point out the possibility are dismissed. And now the nay-sayers have a failed expedition, government sponsored, no less, to back them up. Our project, certifying nothing, was found at the juncture of crust and mantle.\"\n\n\"Proof,\" Teleah nodded. \"That's what it always comes down to as the starting point for any discussion.\"\n\n\"Yes.\" He was silent for a moment.\" I guess I could try to locate the real record. It might be declassified by now since there's no interest in the Moho. I could make a casual inquiry.\"\n\n\"Oh, you must try! Wouldn't it be wonderful, Mackenzie, to bring about a peaceful solution and economic stability? You have an opportunity not given to most men.\"\n\n\"I'm afraid unheard of problems would arise. I'm not sure the world is ready for them.\"\n\n\"Such as . . . \"\n\nAs she listened, she had to agree with his assessment. Even though the world situation had changed from the mid-1960's, the Moho was still a critical point of departure. It would completely turn around who'd be in control and who'd make the money. As he said, such information would strip the Arabs of their leverage, but who would take up the slack? Most likely there'd be utter economic chaos. No wonder his voice was tinged with doubt as he considered the possibilities.\n\n\"Our own markets and the markets of poor nations like Mexico and Venezuela that are based on oil production would tumble; whole industries now built on petroleum would fail.\"\n\n\"Yes, I see it has its complications.\"\n\n\"Many people in this country think they'd like to see the energy big boys lose their empires, but they don't realize how much of our system is undergirded by those big profits. Money is plowed back into other enterprises and puts millions to work. Lending groups, money funds, charitable organizations, research institutions--all of them would be damaged if not wiped out from an enormous loss of income by a really cheap and abundant supply of fuel.\" He gave a bitter laugh. \"I feel like the devil's advocate.\"\n\n\"Yet the discovery remains momentous. It can't be forgotten, put away like a shameful secret. It's a marvelous discovery. Once you know about it, you can't forget it. You haven't forgotten it.\"\n\n\"No, I haven't forgotten it.\"\n\n\"Forgive me, but even with the pressure on you to keep quiet, how could you do it, you who were trained as a scientist?\" It sounded like an accusation, she knew. She hoped he could see her sympathies were with him. Even so, she couldn't help be disappointed in what seemed like a relinquishment of responsibility, unlike the Mackenzie she'd come to know.\n\nHe sighed as he mentioned family pressures to keep in good graces at work, the giddy lure of being accepted in high places, and even fear, all excuses attributed to his youth and inexperience. She couldn't argue when he admitted it wasn't a very courageous position.\n\n\"I know what happens,\" Teléah said, looking away from him, \"when one is guided by ambition. We make sacrifices that may be regretted when it is too late.\" She frowned as she thought of her year of study in America. Could this year ever be made up to her children?\n\nBut then she recollected herself. \"But now you have the chance to right that wrong and save my nation as well. You mustn't let the negatives weigh your decision.\"\n\n\"I haven't even mentioned other negatives from the unrestrained access to oil. You in your particular line of work should be very aware of them.\"\n\nShe was puzzled for a moment. \"But of course! The effect on the ozone layer, the atmospheric balance.\" She should have thought of that without a reminder. But surely there could be some sort of world-wide regulation. She pressed him not to be deterred from exposing the truth.\n\n\"I know, I know. Let the chips fall where they may.\"\n\n\"Is there no one who would back up your story--an eyewitness?\"\n\n\"None but those who have already opposed my urging to get it out in the open. At this point, nothing seems to shake their resolve.\"\n\n\"What about the workers on the drill ship?\"\n\n\"The roustabouts?\" He frowned. \"I've thought of that, but they wouldn't have known enough about the project to be credible witnesses. For them it was just another off shore drilling job. Intimate knowledge of geological formations would have been beyond their ken.\"\n\n\"What worries me is the possibility of those in Washington who might have orders to keep watch, as you say, on the project records. Would they know their real significance? Or are these watchdogs merely guardians--with secret orders? You could be putting yourself in serious jeopardy.\" She mused for a moment. \"Another thing. How did the project go unnoticed at the time? I should think it would have been followed closely by your press if it was in the public domain. They are nothing if not persistent.\"\n\n\"Oh, the preceding expeditions got some coverage. But basically, ours was underplayed as a dull scientific expedition that spent a great deal of the public treasury for no good reason. Its real mission was never exposed, and when the project folded for good, there wasn't a glimmer of interest from anyone, as far as I could tell.\"\n\n\"All of you involved in the conspiracy might be marked.\" Teléah looked with concern at Mackenzie. \"I mean it, Mackenzie; you might be putting your life in jeopardy if you–what do you say–make waves?\"\n\n\"I may, but how fantastic that sounds!\"\n\nTeléah sighed. \"You Americans are too trusting. You've not had experience with betrayals by friends and murderous attacks by enemies. You are swimming in unknown waters. Have you told anyone else about the discovery?\"\n\n\"No one. Not even my former wife knew about this.\"\n\n\"That's good. In order to manage the situation, you need to proceed very carefully.\"\n\nShe felt much calmer now. His words had given her hope, comfort, a sense that with thought and care something could be done.\n\n\"I'll proceed carefully, believe me. Poking around for records, talking about it to others just might be the death of me,\" he said with a wry grin, \"particularly if you're not what you seem and are really an agent for Saudi Arabia, who has ferreted out my dark secret.\"\n\n\"They employ a woman! Never!\" she laughed. \"Your secret is safe with me.\" She leaned across and touched his hand. \"Really, I do mean that. This is rather frightening, and I'd never do anything to jeopardize your safety or your chance of success.\"\n\n\"Thanks, Teléah. You can help me.\"\n\n\"Of course. What would you like me to do?\"\n\n\"I'd like to meet with your friend from the Israeli Legation. Between the three of us we might be able to come up with a way for me to proceed. Also, I may need a safe haven in case I run into serious trouble.\"\n\n\"Yes, of course. An excellent idea. It very well might come to that.\"\n\n\"I don't know if it will, but I'd like to be prepared. At this point, that sounds melodramatic.\" He stood up and stretched.\n\nIt had been a long day for both of them. He looked exhausted. She herself felt wrung out by the emotional upheavals of the past few hours.\n\nShe walked with him outside to his car. It was a balmy April evening with early blooming flowers giving off a slight perfume. Teléah looked up and pointed to the eastern sky several degrees above the horizon.\n\n\"Look at the Pleiades, that sparkling star cluster. So lovely. Do you know their legend?\" He admitted he did not, and she went on, \"They are the daughters of Atlas, who found themselves pursued by the giant Orion. Zeus took pity on them and changed their form, first to pigeons, and then to stars, casting them into the heavens. They are sometimes called the Seven Sisters.\"\n\n\"Seven Sisters? I liked the legend better before you said that.\"\n\n\"And why is that?\"\n\n\"It's the nickname given to the seven largest oil companies. No matter what, I always seem to be reminded of oil.\"\n\n\"Is that so bad?\"\n\n\"No, of course not. It's my life.\" He glanced up again at the sky. \"Yet just now I'd like to find an answer in the stars instead of my usual world.\" He gave a short laugh that seemed to catch in his throat. \"I feel that desperate for enlightenment on how to proceed, or even the assurance that proceeding ahead with this information is the way to go.\"\n\nTeléah put her hand lightly on his arm and said in a firm voice, \"It is, my friend, I'm sure of it.\"\n\n3\n\nInside the Consulate the next afternoon, Teléah made her way to Chaim's office. She was always a little taken aback by its elegance and richness and sense of tradition--the wrong tradition. It might have been the library of an English country house with its carved mahogany desk and glass-front bookshelves, the chairs in tapestry upholstery. The room did strike a contemporary note with a Georgia O'Keefe flower painting and a LeRoy Neiman poster. \"I may as well get some perks from my contacts,\" he had told Teléah with an impudent grin, which he reserved for her and other close friends.\n\nShe wasn't surprised to see he seemed upbeat even now in the face of the worst crisis in Israel's history. She wondered if anything could ever shake him, living as he had through the turmoil of Israel's early days of statehood. His stocky body was impeccably attired in a light gray double-breasted suit. He shot his sleeves and revealed gold cufflinks with an intaglio of his initials in English letters.\n\nHe eyed her costume disapprovingly. \"Do you never wear a pretty dress?\"\n\n\"What?\" She looked down at her plain dark suit. \"What's wrong with my clothes?\"\n\nHe made a face. \"Every time I see you, you look like a female lawyer. Those jackets hardly do you justice.\"\n\n\"I'm on my way to teach my class. I like to look professional.\"\n\n\"You like to look unwomanly, I think. And it's such a waste.\"\n\n\"You're ridiculous!\"\n\nHe settled her in a chair and went to the cabinet along one wall to a well stocked liquor cabinet. \"What will you have?\" He checked his watch. \"I believe the sun is over--or is it under the yardarm? Anyhow, it's after four o'clock.\"\n\n\"Just some sherry, please.\"\n\nHe handed her the drink and then took his own stout brandy and water to the chair next to hers where he settled with a sigh of relief. \"I'm ready for a break. I'm glad you've come.\"\n\n\"I didn't come for a drink, you know. I've come for information. I need to know what to do. This waiting is terrible.\"\n\n\"I know,\" he soothed, \"I know. But everyone is waiting. What will the United States do? We hope, of course, they'll not throw us to the wolves, but they have much at stake, too. So far, the Arabs have held off on implementing the embargo. They're giving the West time to consider. But that is a waiting game of relatively short duration. Soon A-OPEC will get impatient and pull out of the oil market. Then the fun will begin.\"\n\n\"Yes, I suppose so.\" She felt so downcast she could hardly bear to discuss it. \"But what about me in the meantime? I don't want to wait more than a month to go home. I must get back to the children.\"\n\nHe picked up a memo and brandished it. Travel restrictions. Communications monitored. In fact, nationals abroad were urged to stay put. Regular flights in and out of the country were severely limited. The populace, inured to frequent attacks from Israel's neighbors, had accepted the vague information from the government of a possible threat without panicking.\n\nHe ran his hand through thick, prematurely graying hair. \"It's a mess, though. It could get very much worse.\"\n\n\"That's what Mackenzie says,\" Teléah said thoughtfully.\n\n\"Who's that? Doesn't sound very Jewish.\"\n\nShe gave a reluctant laugh. \"A friend I met at the university. He teaches there part-time, but he's actually an executive with a large drilling company. He's been very kind. As a matter of fact, I wanted to ask you if you'd meet with him sometime.\"\n\n\"Surely. An oil executive, you say? I always like to enlarge my circle of influential Americans. He's the one, I presume, who told you about the crisis.\"\n\nShe nodded. \"He's asked for the meeting with you.\" She took an excited breath. \"Chaim, he has something terrible and wonderful to talk about. It could mean an end to the situation Israel's facing.\" She closed her lips abruptly. No more. Mackenzie must be the one to tell his story.\n\n\"You mean end the threat?\" He looked skeptical. \"What does he suggest--a game of international craps, with loaded dice?\"\n\n\"I'm not joking. But he'll tell you. It's the most fantastic thing you could ever imagine.\"\n\n\"Whatever you say.\" He thumbed through his calendar, momentarily abstracted. \"I can't believe how many meetings I have. We'll set it up for a week from Thursday, if that's all right?\"\n\n\"I'll check with him and let you know. Now about my situation. What do I do in the meantime?\"\n\n\"Bide your time. Consider having the children brought over here.\"\n\n\"To my little hovel?\" Teléah gave a brittle laugh. \"It's hardly big enough to add a mouse, let alone two rather active young people.\"\n\n\"Get a larger place.\"\n\n\"With what?\" she scoffed. \"I can barely afford what I've got. Remember, I have a nice home in Jerusalem with monthly payments like everybody else. It's simply not a practical solution that the children be brought over here now.\"\n\nChaim sighed. \"But this is the safest place. You shouldn't consider going back into God knows what kind of maelstrom. I don't look for the country to be bombed immediately, of course, but who know when? Surely something can be worked out for you. I'd be happy to--\"\n\nShe held up a restraining hand. \"No, Chaim. That's kind of you, but no. I'll keep my reservation on the flight and hope it isn't canceled. Besides, I want to go. I feel an obligation to be there when my country is undergoing another trial.\"\n\n\"I think it's foolish of you.\" He leaned across to her and cupped her hand in his. \"But then you ever were the little nationalist. Ready to throw yourself under the wheels of a rolling Jihad.\" He regarded her with affection. \"How well I remember that earnest little face at the training camps. Yes, you've got the zeal of any good convert.\"\n\nShe had to protest at that.\n\n\"I wasn't referring to your religion, although you can't argue much for personal piety.\" They both smiled as fellow secularists.\n\n\"You came to Israel at the height of the movement for national identity. You were very impressionable to that kind of thing.\"\n\nShe stared at him. Ever the cynic. Was it a protective pose, or did he really believe such nonsense? She could never decide for sure.\n\n\"For shame, you who were born a Palestinian.\"\n\n\"My dear 'Leah, I place my hope in our people, not in a piece of land. Power plays, back room deals. It's all such a game. Why should we care? The Jewish nation will always exist as long as we keep the faith and aren't afraid to expose ourselves to the world. That's how we'll define and defend our nation. We've had to do that for millennia, you know.\"\n\n\"Chaim! I can't believe you're saying this. If what you say is true then Israel is merely a pawn, and our right to existence is a sham. The great struggle, then, has been for nothing.\"\n\n\"I'm not a clairvoyant, but I think I'm a realist. Take this latest threat. If the U. S. is bound to the position of non-interference, that clinches it for the state of Israel.\" He reached behind him for the sherry decanter and tried to refill Teléah's glass.\n\n\"But then,\" she persisted, covering the glass with her hand, \"it comes down to fighting, after all. We've fought the enemy before and won. We can do it again.\"\n\n\"All of them at the same time? No, darling girl, we can't. Our best bet will be to pull off something diplomatically to prevent slaughter. Israel will cease to exist. And perhaps that is our real destiny. No nation deserves to exist forever simply on the good will of others. It must be seen as valuable for something. Of course, the alternative is that a nation may be allowed to exist because it is so innocuous, of so little consequence or influence that it may be safely ignored.\"\n\nShe tried not to look too shocked by his words and only gave an impatient wave of her hand. \"Never mind about your crazy ideas. What about my family, who would like very much to be ignored by dangerous neighbors. Could you help me communicate with them? I can't get through by telephone.\"\n\n\"Trunk lines are limited by necessity, I'm afraid. Haven't the officials from the university in Jerusalem gotten in touch? They might have been able to get through.\"\n\n\"I haven't heard a thing.\" She gathered up her purse and prepared to leave. \"Thanks for the drink. I must get on to my class. I shall talk again to my 'influential American friend.'\"\n\n\"Wait, 'Leah, I'm pretty sure I can get a message in the diplomatic pouch to your mother.\"\n\n\"Thank you. I'll get a letter to you shortly. Perhaps then she'll be able to write me about Ben and Ireina.\"\n\nHe made a face as he showed her to the door. \"Here you are, trying to manage all this on your own. You should never have married Aaron–so much older than you. He was just a father figure, you know. And in a dangerous profession. In our army, the Colonels do not sit at desks. He was always gone when you needed him. Now you are having to raise those children alone. You need someone to share these responsibilities, make your life less lonely.\"\n\nShe dismissed his comments with a toss of her head. \"Oh, we get along. Besides the children, I have my work. It's enough--most of the time.\"\n\n\"When it's not,\" Chaim said, leaning toward her, \"don't forget I'm always around the corner. Any corner of the world where you are.\" He gave her a light kiss on the lips. \"If that Mackenzie fellow hasn't taken my place as friend and confidant.\"\n\nShe gave him a look of mock disapproval as she left. Chaim! With her, it seemed, he was hardly the diplomat.\n\n4\n\nIt was Saturday morning at the Fox home on Chevy Chase. Fowler considered the weekend stretching before him with almost carefree anticipation. He wouldn't let the oil crisis take over his pleasures, for he deserved to take a break occasionally and enjoy himself. He was sitting in what he called the library, but the only books around were unread editions of masterpieces, tooled and leather-bound, that Eloise had purchased from a decorator and placed on shelves between the windows. The rest of the room's walls, excluding the fireplace, were filled with Fowler's gun collection.\n\nHe was at his plantation desk, comfortable in the high-backed leather chair, examining from afar his latest acquisition, an 1865 Dickson and Nelson Confederate rifle displayed on a rack inside a locked, glass-front case. It had been a bargain at $11,000, and would only increase in value. The unwelcome thought came to him that he had no one to leave it and the rest of his collection to. That was another sad result of marrying Eloise. He sipped his mid-morning cup of coffee in rare meditation on his choices in life. How damned funny things turned out.\n\nStill, he thought, looking again at his guns, who'd a'thought that green kid from the Big Thicket would ever have such beautiful and rare objects to gaze at and use now and then? So what if he didn't have any son of his own, at least none that he knew about, he amended, chuckling, but he had Mac, who was like a son, and who would carry on when he was gone. The guns, though, were probably going to a museum. He'd have to see his lawyer about that.\n\nAt that moment, a shadow appeared in the doorway, a female figure lit from behind by the sun streaming in from the glass wall that overlooked the garden. He saw his wife, a hazy vision in a nearly transparent organza dressing gown of gold that matched her hair. \"Hello, darlin,\" he intoned, admiring as always his wife's looks, particularly from a distance where one couldn't detect the lines about the eyes, the droop of chin, a certain ravishment from the drink. She'd always been a lovely woman, he couldn't deny that. \"What's on your mind this morning?\"\n\n\"I'll be leaving for the Center this morning, if you recall, and won't be back until tomorrow late afternoon. I thought I'd let Maria go on home, unless you need her around for some reason. Will you be eating in this evening?\"\n\nHe waved his hand in dismissal. \"No, I'm going to the gun club in a little bit, and Akira can handle things for lunch today and tomorrow. I'll be at River Oaks for dinner and poker tonight. We can go out tomorrow after you get back. Sound OK, sweetheart?\"\n\n\"I hate to leave you alone for the weekend, dear,\" his wife said in her low voice, \"but I'm supposed to go to rehab once every three months for review. You know I'd better stick with it.\" \"Sure, sure, you don't worry about me. Before I forget, I want you to give Mac a call next week about dinner at our place. I want it to be extra special. Now, come here and give me a kiss,\" he said, standing up as Eloise approached him. They embraced and she went out of the room on slippered feet, her silken dressing gown swishing. He again thought of how mistaken he'd been about her, those thirty-five years ago at, of all places, River Oaks Country Club. Gravely had brought him as a guest, an awkward thirty-two-year-old oil man–though really Gravely's assistant. He'd hardly known how to dress for the occasion, but Gravely had instructed him to at least rent evening dress so he wouldn't stand out too much. It was there he'd met post-debutante Eloise Kemper, twenty-two and just graduated from Wellesley. Although he couldn't honestly say he'd fallen in love with her, he was intrigued by the life she represented. He wanted it for his own. She had been bowled over, she'd told him later, by his assertiveness, his persistence, his love-making, which had awakened her as no college boy had. They'd been married within three months.\n\nThe first few years had been all he'd hoped for. She'd helped him polish the rough edges, take his place in a society that would have scorned his own family, his wood chopper father, the worn out mother, who had died when Fowler was ten. He'd left that all behind with his eighth grade education for the oil fields, where he'd run across a geologist entrepreneur looking for help, an eager apprentice.\n\nJosh Gravely had come from a well-to-do Houston family, and had given him a needed leg up in the drilling business. Fowler had gone to work for the geologist with a mission during the second Spindletop boom of the late 1920s. Though that soon petered out, Gravely quickly moved on to more productive fields. Times were good in the 1930s for oil. While the rest of the country was reeling from depression, those who could extract hydrocarbons and market them were making money. And soon Fowler had become Gravely's right hand man. His work on an innovative drill bit, using the ideas of a young tool pusher named Joe Scudder, further propelled him to executive ranks in the growing company, and by the time he'd bought his first house in Houston and was attending the dance at the country club, his fortunes were set.\n\nThe only really dicey time was back in the late '60s after that expedition on the Neptune Challenger. Fowler didn't like to think about it, and by damn! if Mac didn't bring it up again. Anytime there was an oil crisis, up came the subject to haunt him. Sure, Leo's horrible death was a shocker, and Fowler had to wonder about the timing of the attack. But to be honest, he might have been a problem. Weak, that's what Leo'd been, and Mac might have won him over to his side. But Mac wasn't weak, and it was that strength that Fowler liked even though Mac's insistence on breaking the conspiracy would never cut any ice with Fowler. No sir! He'd given his promise to the President, and no matter what, he'd keep it. There were other benefits, too, that had come his way through the years, and Mac would soon be privy to them. That should quiet him down. Fowler lit a cigar, his first of the day and relaxed again in his chair. It would work out. That he was sure. Things always had worked out when it came to the firm; he could count on that.\n\n*\n\nMackenzie was examining the Monday morning papers at his desk, not only the Houston Chronicle but also the New York Times and Washington Post. More than a week had gone by since he'd heard about the proposed embargo. He'd seen only a few snippets of news that bore on the situation--and they were only suggestive of trouble brewing in the Mid East. The State Department was playing this one close to the chest.\n\nHe scanned one of the papers and saw an article saying that the OPEC oil allocation to the United States had been cut, a dangerous signal of things to come. The item appeared only in the business section and reflected puzzlement. Another newspaper mistakenly suggested that the supply from the Mid East was down because the western nations were improving their own production. The truth was that oil companies would have to begin a new deeper drilling program in California and the North Sea to fill even half the gap left by the curtailment of OPEC imports.\n\nAt least, thank God, the negotiations hadn't broken down. The diplomats must be holding their own. Still, he felt no confidence that Fowler's prediction would be proved false. If the press ever got wind of the real threat, the outcry would be far different. Frustration rose in him. He had to take careful action, do some probing.\n\nThe big news around the office had centered on Leo's death. Everyone had been horrified. The poor guy ambushed in his own home, and all for a few bucks he carried. The killer didn't even ransack the house for the usual salable items. Probably a drug addict who needed cash fast.\n\nLeo's body been discovered after Fowler had asked for help from the police when he didn't show up for work for two days. The police had gotten hold of Mary, Leo's wife, at her sister's in Dallas. Bad business. Mackenzie had felt a momentary flash of guilt when he first heard about the murder, remembering how critical he'd been of the engineer. Mary had had his body cremated, and the memorial service had been a quiet affair.\n\nAs far as Mackenzie's plan went, his one chance of getting backup testimony was finished. Unless he could convince Fowler to change his mind, which was iffy at best.\n\nEmily Bainbridge, Mackenzie's secretary, came in to his office balancing a tray with his coffee and a bagel. \"I bet you forgot to eat anything for breakfast,\" she said pertly. She set the tray on top of his desk and then stood waiting for any instructions he might have. Her tailored dress was appropriate and probably expensive, but it was a particularly unbecoming gray that heightened the sallowness of her skin. Em didn't have much knack for personal adornment, he acknowledged, but she was a gem of a secretary and was always neat and well groomed.\n\n\"Will you get me reservations for an early flight to Washington tomorrow? I plan to return the same day.\"\n\n\"Sure, Mac. Anything else?\"\n\n\"Put in a call to Charles Bennett at Circle Petroleum in about ten minutes, please.\"\n\n\"I will,\" she said, writing her notes. She looked up. \"Jeremy called and wanted you to call him back when it's convenient.\"\n\n\"Thanks.\" Later, after he'd gotten through this other business. The Vice President of Finance probably was impatient for the figures on Mackenzie's plans for enlarging their exploratory operations.\n\nEm smiled and left the room. Efficient. Cheerful. Smart. And apparently devoted--he'd was sometimes concerned she might be a little too much so. But ever the professional. She'd been with Mackenzie ever since he'd been appointed Vice President.\n\nAfter checking his Rolodex, he picked up the phone and dialed. He sipped coffee and took a mouthful of bagel and cream cheese while he waited.\n\n\"Ralph!\" He chatted for a few minutes with the lobbyist and made an appointment to meet tomorrow. He was fortunate to have an excuse to visit Washington. He'd been putting off the visit for a week, but now with OPEC's reduction of the allocation he could make a good case for the oil and gas lobby to put on the heat. The legislators would be receptive, Mackenzie thought; they all should remember well the former oil crisis.\n\nHe was eager to check out the records at the National Science Foundation. At the time of the Moho project, he had a Secret clearance, no problem as an ex-officer in the Navy. But that clearance had been revoked when the project ended. He didn't know if the files he was looking for had been de-classified or not. But he'd have to find out in person. The thought that he might have some luck kept his spirits high.\n\nThe call from Circle came through and Mackenzie suggested to its president, Charles Bennett, that this might be the time to go to greater depths at the Ellenberger strata.\n\n\"I can't give you specifics yet,\" he said to the oilman's query, \"but the word is we'll be wise to drill deeper. I suggest we strengthen that operation, get one of our big rigs out there.\"\n\n\"How big?\"\n\n\"What do you say to a two-million pound hook capacity.\"\n\n\"Sounds expensive, but you've done well by us all along, Mac. If you think Diablo has it in it, I'll authorize it.\"\n\n\"I know we can locate a deep pool. I've had it on my chart as a high potential area. We just didn't want to overtax you, but I can almost guarantee you'll see a quick return. Mark my words, the demand will increase.\" At a cost of over one million to just take a look, any responsible oil company would be cautious.\n\n\"Go for it, Mac. I'll send a confirming letter today.\"\n\nAfter hanging up, he buzzed Em and asked her to make arrangements for his trip Thursday to Diablo, the West Texas drilling site. He'd should be able to take care of his business in one day and be back to Houston Friday afternoon.\n\nWhile Mackenzie finished the bagel and swallowed the dregs of his coffee, the phone buzzed and to his surprise, he found Eloise Fox on the line inviting him to a small dinner party Saturday week--just the Foxes and him and another woman. He like Eloise–always felt a bit sorry for her. She asked him if he'd like to bring a friend or should she invite a \"spare woman.\"\n\n\"Not too spare, please,\" he said, making her laugh. \"I like mine filled out.\" Then he thought a moment. \"Wait on that, if you will. I might bring someone I know from the university. I'll have to check first, of course. I'll call you when I get an answer.\"\n\nIt might be Teléah wouldn't consider being part of such a plan, but while talking to Eloise, he had been captured by an interesting thought. If he planned to broach the subject of the Moho again to Fowler, this little gathering might be just the thing to soften him up--offer a different angle for him to consider.\n\nTeléah with Fowler. She would be the angle, if she'd agree. The conversation would naturally evolve to her homeland. Israel would be more than a place on the map, a pawn in international politics. It would be a real place, a nation of real people like Teléah and her children. Mackenzie smiled to himself. The evening might go in a very different direction from the one Fowler planned. Besides, he rather liked the idea of her company for dinner at the Foxes'. Better than someone from the usual stock of available women supplied by Eloise or from his own well thumbed list, for that matter. Fowler would enjoy a new audience, too. He'd be engaging and expansive, showing off as he liked to do in front of a pretty woman. Poor Eloise would appreciate having the attention off herself. She spent most of her energy at social events trying not to show how much she'd had to drink before the guests arrived and trying to keep Fowler's temper from going aloft. But maybe she had been dried out recently. He hoped so.\n\nHe wanted very much for Teléah to accept. Since his confession to her, they now seemed to have a bond between them. He hadn't regretted speaking about the Moho to her. He didn't think she'd been put off by his disclosure. Last night, when he passed by her room, she glanced up and saw him, giving him a thumbs up. Her class gawked curiously at him before he took off.\n\n*\n\nJeremy Willis paused before Emily Bainbridge at her desk in front of Mac's office. She was crossing items off a list on her memo pad. He stepped in her light, and she looked up with a raised eyebrow.\n\n\"Yes?\"\n\n\"You know what I want. Isn't your boss in yet?\"\n\nShe gave him an icy look. \"He is, and I left word you'd called.\"\n\n\"I didn't get a call yet.\"\n\n\"Maybe he's dialing you right now,\" she said sweetly.\n\n\"Phff. Look, my girl,\" he said, drumming his fingers on her desk, \"buzz him again and tell him I want to see him. O. K.?\"\n\n\"O. K . . . sir.\"\n\nHe walked off swiftly to his own office. Mac's secretary had no idea of office protocol. Who did she think she was? It was a wonder she still worked here, that others hadn't complained about her manner. He, himself, wouldn't have said a word, of course. That would hardly be appropriate considering the rivalry between Mac and himself. A foolish rivalry that Fowler could settle with a word in the right place. Mac had his little area, and that's where he belonged. He didn't know or care about the financial end, which, let's face it, wagged the dog of any business.\n\nJeremy, smoothing his seal-like hair, sat behind his desk. He noted automatically that everything was in its place, his phone and tablet, the dictating equipment. He straightened the file folders in an organizer.\n\nHe didn't relish having this little talk with Mac, but the Arab OPEC thing had put him in something of a bind. The last thing he needed was to be shown as incompetent at making decisions. So what if he'd made some risky financial moves? Fowler didn't need to be brought into it. Not until everything was straightened out. He hoped he could convince Mac, who was the only one who could help him. And he mustn't tip too much of his hand either. It was a tricky business.\n\nStill the phone didn't ring, and he cursed to himself. Was Mac playing his own little game? Funny. They should have gotten along well together with their complementary talents. He'd been taken on at the company shortly after Mac began his employment and had moved up to comptroller within three years. They hadn't seen much of each other until seven years ago when Jeremy was made a vice-president. Six months later, Fowler appointed Mac vice-president and that's when the trouble started. Jeremy felt his face grow hot with indignation when he thought of it.\n\nThe unfairness of it! He the senior officer! He had pulled the company from its mediocrity and made it a virtual holding company. From the time he was comptroller, he had urged vertical expansion, having faith in petroleum by-products and the viability of the oil business. Fowler had recognized his contribution, too, he knew that, but why did he more and more feel like a stepson? No need to answer that. It was clear that Fowler was thinking of Mac as his successor.\n\nHe picked out a finely sharpened pencil from a round leather box and ran it between his fingers. He wouldn't give up his rightful place without a fight. He'd show Fowler who would be the most valuable at the helm. He could do it, too, if he could fix this little situation that had unfortunately arisen because of poorly timed politics. How unfair! He struck his fist on his desk and then looked down with dismay. The pencil in his hand splintered. And now a fresh scar on the highly polished wood.\n\n*\n\nWhen Mackenzie finally leaned back to take a breather, he was surprised to see it was already eleven o'clock. For over two hours his work had so engaged him, he'd forgotten his predicament. Now it washed over him like a sickening, sour effluvium. The Moho! How much easier it would be to forget it as Fowler demanded. Why couldn't he do that? What made him think there was an innocuous way to squelch the threat from OPEC. He must be nuts.\n\nTeléah had returned his call promptly and was silent for a moment after he explained about the dinner party and his plan.\n\n\"This Fowler, he can be moved by this?\"\n\n\"I'm counting on it.\"\n\n\"I see,\" she said quietly. \"I'll be very glad to meet him.\"\n\nAs he reflected later on that up-coming dinner, his chair turned toward the full length plate glass window, he couldn't help but picture the Foxes' reaction when they met Teléah. He chuckled at the thought. He felt pleasurable anticipation. But to be honest, was it less for Teléah's effect on Fowler than an excuse to be again in her presence? The sound of someone clearing his throat broke into his reverie, and he swung his chair around. Jeremy Willis was standing before him.\n\n\"Willis! For God's sake, haven't you heard of knocking? What do you mean creeping up on me like that.\" He was sharper with him than he had intended.\n\nJeremy looked down his nose, and his head jerked nervously. \"I did knock if you must know. You didn't answer, so I peeked in and saw you in a trance. Sorry!\"\n\n\"I meant to call you earlier. What can I do for you?\" Mackenzie knew he'd been remiss in not returning Jeremy's call, but the moment had passed for explanations.\n\n\"I want to discuss something with you about some financial matters..\"\n\n\"I'm stepping up our drilling activities, but I won't have the estimates until next week.\"\n\nWillis waved his hand. \"Fine. Actually, it's about something else that I--the fact is, I need your advice.\"\n\nMackenzie raised his eyebrows and offered Willis a seat. He seemed uncomfortable, unsure of himself. Most uncharacteristic.\n\nWillis went on. \"Our subsidiaries. The ones like Eberhard Plastics that rely on petroleum by-products. I've kept them a little short on their raw materials. You know, no need to keep a fortune in inventory. They'll soon have to stock up, as will a few other companies.\"\n\n\"Oil by-products?\" So that's how Willis's books looked so good. By starving the holdings, he made the balance sheet for Gravely and Fox look wonderful. No wonder he seemed a little sheepish.\n\nBut disbursement of the nation's stocks of oil had already been set by the Department of Energy without any explanation. The reason was clear to those in the know. The Department of Energy was obviously taking orders from the State Department, who was taking the advice of the International Energy Agency in the event of an embargo. If the Arabs enforced the embargo as they'd threatened, everyone could expect an immediate shortage. No oil, he told Jeremy, for manufacturing of non-essential products.\n\n\"But surely we can get access to the domestic reserves in the salt domes or whatever. Couldn't you arrange something--you know, privately? Use your pull?\"\n\n\"Look, Jeremy, those reserves are a drop in the bucket. No administration has ever been able to stock what the country might need for emergency supply. Mainly, it's designated for military application. What little is stored won't go to our plastics company. No way.\" He leaned back in his chair and regarded Willis. \"So much for Eberhard plastics. How about our chemical company? Can it manage through this?\"\n\nJeremy swallowed. \"The thing is, they need business to get stabilized. They can't afford any stoppages now. We may be forced to prop them up.\"\n\n\"Don't count on it. We need to put all our resources into immediate drilling activities. As I said, I'll get an estimate to you next week, but I'm planning a deep drilling program effective immediately. That side of Gravely and Fox should be off and running.\n\n\"With the price of oil soon to go up, we'll be asked next to start extraction of the shale deposits and tar sands. Eventually, I presume the subsidiaries will get some funds.\"\n\n\"I can see you'd be delighted if we lost one or two of our holdings,\" Willis said angrily. His head jerked twice. \"You've never quite gotten hold of the big picture.\"\n\n\"I've got the picture all right.\"\n\n\"I think you're taking this situation in a strangely unconcerned way. I'm sure Fowler has noticed your lack of enthusiasm. It's been patently obvious to me.\" Willis got to his feet. His thin body was stiff with emotion.\n\nMackenzie stood up. \"Just put it down to the fact that I'm not having to worry about covering my ass. Now, is there anything else? I've got a million things to do before I leave town.\"\n\nWillis registered surprise. \"A trip in the midst of the crisis?\"\n\n\"Much to attend to, you know. I plan to visit with Ralph Sanderson in Washington as Fowler suggested. Then a quick trip out to the Diablo site about our new course of deep drilling.\"\n\n\"Well, then, I'll not bother you any longer with financial concerns.\" Willis wheeled abruptly and left the office.\n\nMackenzie gave his back a grim smile. Desperate? Coupled with his professional jealousy, he could be a real nuisance. Prying eyes. Complications that he didn't need. Their antipathy toward one another was unfortunate, but thank God, he seldom had to butt heads with him.\n\nHe acknowledged that a wiser man might watch his back where Willis was concerned, but he had neither the time nor the interest in worrying about his colleague one way or the other.\n\n5\n\nAt Dulles, Mackenzie spotted Ralph Sanderson at the edge of the passenger waiting room. They shook hands, and after a quick trip through morning traffic, arrived at Sanderson's office. Mac explained Gravely and Fox's needs, but their discussion was notably brief. Sanderson was an able man, always eager to promote the industry and now even more so.\n\n\"I saw that OPEC has dropped the number of barrels coming into the country,\" he remarked. \"Is it going to get worse?\"\n\n\"Maybe,\" Mackenzie said cautiously. \"I think we should be prepared for that.\"\n\n\"It'll be a piece of cake to get the drilling and recovery regulations virtually eliminated. This reduction of OPEC oil should clinch it. We've been moving in that direction, but there's always an environmental group or two who think we have to put pristine land ahead of fuel needs.\" He circled his temple with a finger. \"No sense at all. What would this country and its citizens do without an assured supply of oil? I tell you what they'd do–panic.\"\n\nMackenzie stared at him for a moment. If the environmental groups thought they had problems now, what would they do if the Moho opened up? But he mustn't get distracted from his purpose for this meeting, and he mentally shifted gears back again to meet Sanderson's concerns. They spent some time discussing which congressmen should be approached and how to strike the right note of urgency without signaling panic. Mackenzie wished he could have explained it all to the lobbyist but that would be impossible, so instead he could only hint of a secret knowledge that the oil supply would be threatened even more in the near future.\n\n\"Lunch?\" Sanderson asked Mackenzie. \"When's your flight home?\"\n\n\"I've got some other business I need to take care of, so I'll just grab a hot dog from a stand on the way. Don't worry about seeing me to the airport. I can take a cab.\"\n\nSanderson accepted his refusal without question, and Mackenzie set out for the NSF by taxi. It was near the State Department in Foggy Bottom. On his way there, he had an odd feeling of trepidation, as if he was calling up a forbidden specter of the past. He scoffed at his sudden anxiety. What else could he do? Like any other citizen, he had a right to inquire about a government project. Damn! He mustn't get nerves over this. He had a long way to go.\n\nThe building was in the monumental style and presented an anonymous face to the public, like so much of the architecture in the nation's capital. He alighted from the cab and went up the flight of stairs to the main entrance. A guard was on duty alone in the marble-sheathed reception hall and after his query about records, directed him to a department on the second floor.\n\nThere, a receptionist gave him a blank look when he asked to see records from Project Moho.\n\n\"Do you have an authorization?\"\n\n\"That's what I'm trying to get,\" he said with forced patience. Bureaucracies!\n\n\"I'll get Mr. Lawson.\" She punched some buttons and repeated to someone Mackenzie's request. \"Go ahead,\" she directed Mackenzie, \"down that hall, second door on the left to the archives.\"\n\nThis was a large room, but was partially blocked off by shelving and some offices. Again, he was asked his business by a clerk, who after his reply, sent him to an adjacent office.\n\nA man at a desk looked up and gave Mackenzie a cranky look, obviously interrupted from his work.\n\n\"Sorry to disturb you, but I'm requesting some records of a project that I worked on.\"\n\n\"Name?\"\n\n\"Mackenzie Haber.\"\n\n\"Of the project,\" he said testily.\n\n\"Of course. Project Moho. Sponsored and funded by NSF,\" he added, perhaps unnecessarily.\n\n\"You say you worked on the project?\"\n\n\"Yes, I was Project Geologist.\"\n\n\"And why are you needing access now?\"\n\n\"Is that required information? Can't I see the records?\" Mackenzie had to control his rising temper, prompted by anxiety.\n\n\"All right. Just fill out this form.\" He rustled around in his desk drawer and withdrew a sheet of paper. He pointed to a chair and table in the corner.\n\nBut the report, when he finally had it handed to him, was the falsified record, written convincingly in a forty-plus-page document. The process of awarding the contract, the construction of the drill ship, the equipment and suppliers, the personnel, preliminary probes, and other routine information.\n\nThen he read, \"The project ran into trouble when severe loss of circulation occurred in fractured basalt at approximately 15,000 feet. Circulation was attempted for six weeks but the instability of the hole and loss of sample recovery material prohibited deepening the hole any further.\" The big lie.\n\nThe report went on to conclude, \"Consultations with various experts confirmed the inevitable outcome and the project was terminated.\" Mumbo jumbo. He should know; he helped write it. He sighed and turned in the report to the clerk.\n\n\"Do you have the classified report on this project?\"\n\nShe raised an eyebrow. \"I don't know. I'll have to check. Do you have clearance?\"\n\nAgain he explained his role in the project. She didn't say anything but simply dialed a number and turned her back on Mackenzie while she had a muted conversation. When she hung up she politely refused his request for additional material.\n\nHe nodded, thanked her, and gathered up his briefcase. As he turned to leave the office, he heard the clerk again on the phone. She was reporting his request for the classified record on Project Moho. Odd! But maybe any request for classified material had to be noted on the file. Anyhow, for him it was a dead end. What he had suspected, of course. It had not been declassified and no amount of prodding would get him that wireline record--if it still existed.\n\n6\n\nHe'd taken the company plane into Pecos where Joe Scudder met him for the forty-five minute drive to the drilling site. The land stretched before the occupants of the car in low relief with blips of spiny cactus and small arroyos and dusty patches of grass. The horizon was immense. Over a distance of several hundred miles, the rose-purple humps of the Guadalupe mountains lay like sleeping beasts.\n\nThey would be making preparations to deepen the hole into the Ellenberger strata, a formation in the Permian Basin located at a depth of around 22,000 feet. The deep well exploration was the smart way to go. But deep well drilling would mean a major change in the operation at Diablo--new equipment and more men.\n\n\"Great to see ya, Mac,\" Joe said, turning his leathery face from the empty road to examine Mackenzie closely.\n\n\"Aren't ya tired of the soft life yet?\" he drawled. He reached into his shirt pocket and pinched a plug of Skoal. \"How about your boy? When you gonna get him into the field?\"\n\nMackenzie looked out the window beside him. Last summer Rick had begged to go, but his mother had pulled out all the stops to prevent it, getting him a cushy job as lifeguard at the country club. She'd insisted the association with job-hardened roustabouts at his young age would have a negative influence. In fact, as Mackenzie knew well, strong discipline and well defined rules were imposed at drilling sites, particularly at the remote camps. He had to admit, though, the work could dangerous. He had gone along with Tricia, promising Rick his chance after he had spent another year in college.\n\n\"Maybe next summer.\"\n\n\"Is he going into the business?\"\n\n\"He's pretty sure, but he's leaning more toward engineering than geology. That'll be fine, too. Whatever makes him happy.\" And whatever will work out if the oil business changes forever.\n\nMackenzie turned to Joe. \"What about your family. Everybody doing O.K.?\"\n\n\"Oh, yeah. The missus ain't too happy. With me gone so much and the kids growed up she gets lonesome, I guess.\" He gave a weary sigh. \"I'm giving some thought to getting out.\"\n\n\"Getting out of Gravely and Fox? You can't be serious, Joe. You'll be drilling holes until you keel over.\"\n\n\"No, I mean it, Mac. Been at it for over forty years. Think of it! Forty years and thirty of 'em as toolpusher. I'm proud of that.\"\n\n\"You should be. What do you plan to do?\"\n\n\"Me and the missus got a little cabin on the Pedernales. We like to fish. It sounds mighty good to me, I can tell you that.\" He rolled his head back on the head rest. \"Fowler's about ready to chuck it in, ain't he?\"\n\n\"I think he might retire sometime this year. He's an old war horse, though. It'll be hard for him to be stabled.\"\n\nJoe nodded. \"Oh, it's hard to imagine, all right.\" He ruminated a moment with his tobacco and his thoughts. \"I'll never forget when I first met Fowler. We was in the panhandle together in '35. He'd hired me to work on an old steam rig. I was only sixteen, and he was the toughest son-of-a-bitch I'd ever met.\"\n\n\"Were you mixed up in any of the riots out there? I understand they got pretty rough.\" He threw him the bone.\n\n\"Mixed up? Hell, we was the riot!\" He chortled. \"Did Fowler ever tell you about the time the local sheriff called in the Rangers to help clean up the place?\" Mackenzie smiled with concealed resignation. Between Fowler and Joe he had heard several of the ubiquitous \"Lone Ranger\" stories before.\n\n\". . .and Fowler tells him he's sure surprised to see only one Ranger getting off that train, and you know what he says? 'There's only one riot, ain't there?'\"\n\nJoe laughed and hawked noisily and wiped his eyes. \"Them was the days. But ol' Fowler knew where he was going, I tell you. He'd gotten Mr. Gravely convinced they could dig holes anywhere. Shoot, we was one of the first drilling companies to get into the Persian Gulf and later into off-shore exploration.\"\n\n\"How long were you in off-shore before I joined the company?\"\n\n\"When exactly was that, Mac?\"\n\n\"I started in 1966.\" As Mackenzie spoke, the deck of the Neptune Challenger seemed to rise before him. He could smell the sea, feel the slight rise of the deck as the four stabilizer engines fought to hold the ship steady.\n\nJoe's flat voice spouted dates and places as he recalled previous off-shore operations, and Mackenzie nodded absently, his mind riveted by a new thought: Would Joe remember accurately the momentous find at the Challenger site? He of all the workers aboard might be able to corroborate Mackenzie's assertion. Testimony from an experienced and respected toolpusher should be impressive. Would that be evidence enough without the wireline tape? Joe's knowledge of the oil business centered on the mechanics of getting the drill bit to its target and not on the geological formations, but some careful questioning might establish how good a witness Joe could be.\n\n\"Where do I stay tonight, Joe?\"\n\n\"I didn't think you'd want to be in the crew's quarters, so I fixed you up a room in Cordell--'bout fifteen miles from Diablo--at a hotel there. The Rio Rancho.\" He grinned at Mackenzie. \"We eat there sometimes. Call it the Rio Roacho.\"\n\n\"Sounds O.K. Say, why don't we eat there tonight?\"\n\n\"Why shore.\" Joe cocked his head, pleased. \"Bout six-thirty?\"\n\nThen Joe squinted ahead. \"There's the tower.\"\n\nSeeing in the distance the lone derrick on the vast terrain, Mackenzie was strangely moved. It always happened to him in places like this. The romance of geology. A wry thought, considering what he knew.\n\nDiablo was a relatively new operation and Mackenzie's first visit to the site, but other similar sites formed a nexus of memories that presented a counterpoint to his work in Houston. The life here was elemental. Cutting into the earth and bringing up the pot of gold--maybe. But always safety first. That one factor--keeping his men on focused on the job and unhurt--was what had made Joe Scudder so valuable as a drilling foreman. There had been accidents, yes, but Joe had never lost a man under his direct supervision.\n\nAs they drew closer, the tower took on more detail. The drilling platform was two tall stories above ground. Underneath it was the Blowout Preventer. Above the platform, the 100-foot mast was strung with lights, the Christmas tree. Tank trucks of water and fuel huddled beside the tower, plugged into the site by their long hoses. Adjacent to the tower, manmade ponds of drilling mud as viscous as primordial slime covered over four acres. Beyond the derrick some distance away, the arms of mules kept up their ceaseless movement as they pumped oil into storage tanks.\n\nJoe pulled alongside two dark gray company cars parked by a converted trailer, the office-living quarters for the engineer and geologist. A hundred feet beyond the trailer a frame cabin served as sleeping quarters for the roughnecks.\n\n\"We'll be going in much deeper, Joe,\" Mackenzie said.\n\n\"Right-o,\" Joe said unenthusiastically. Mackenzie knew the difficulties that faced him having to step up operations. Adding new and larger equipment, new men, some inexperienced, and for Joe, perhaps many extra hours until the workers became familiar with the equipment and settled in.\n\n\"Royster's inside the trailer,\" Joe remarked, pointing.\n\n\"He seems to be getting along all right.\" Royster was young and single. It was a hard, lonely life for any man, but the young geologist had seemed eager to earn his stripes in the field.\n\n\"Blenkinsop here?\" he asked.\n\n\"Any time now. He's coming in from the Val Verde Basin.\" The engineer traveled from one site to the other, keeping a check on conditions at the various locations, making recommendations to the geologist, ordering equipment and supplies as needed.\n\nMackenzie stepped out of the air conditioned car into the dry, super heated atmosphere. He felt a rasp of physical excitement in his chest. He continued to ask questions of Joe, both now having to shout because of the tremendous roar of the generators around the rig. Satisfied the work was going well, he turned to look as another company car came streaking onto the site trailing a plume of dust. He waved to Blenkinsop, who pointed to the trailer. Mackenzie nodded and turned toward the control center of the well site.\n\nInside the trailer, he greeted Royster and went to a tiny laboratory installed with the latest equipment: a microscope, the scales and lab utensils, and a chromatograph with its shiny and bulbous face of dials. From it, a sensor ran to the mud return line at the hole where mud from the well bore on the way to the slush pit was \"sniffed\" for natural gas. He nodded his approval of the setup, and he and the geologist then took their seats behind a small table to wait for the engineer so the meeting could begin.\n\n*\n\nThe outside of the Rio Rancho was board and batten like the old hotels in western movies. Except for a large TV antennae, which sprouted from the roof. A young man on his way out sidled past Mackenzie, who stepped aside to let him pass. A roughneck, judging by his work pants and heavy oiled boots instead of the more usual cowboy boots. The man glanced at Mackenzie but didn't respond to his nod. Mackenzie noted the behavior as odd and out of keeping with the friendly Western types who frequented places like this.\n\nInside, the cool air carried the familiar scents of beer, sawdust, and deodorizer imperfectly masking toilet odors. He spotted Joe sitting at a corner table, flanked by two beer mugs, one empty, the other nearly full. \"I thought I'd wet myself down while I waited,\" he said cheerily. \"How 'bout you, Mac?\"\n\nMackenzie agreed to a beer, and Joe waved over the bar maid, a dusky senorita. Waiting for her to slink her way across the room, Mackenzie looked around. The room was dim, but Joe and Mackenzie's corner was lighted by a Schlitz clock. Above the bar he saw the inevitable dusty set of longhorns.\n\n\"Get ya something?\" the waitress asked Joe.\n\n\"Hi, sweet thing,\" Joe said, leering. \"Give the man a beer, will ya?\"\n\n\"Sure, enough.\" She looked at Mackenzie and perked up. \"Anything else, mister?\"\n\n\"Steak, Joe?\" Mackenzie himself had experienced too often the leather-tough meat that was relegated to these out-of-the-way places. \"I'll have the chili and a guacamole salad, please.\"\n\n\"Bring me the thickest steak you've got,\" said Joe, \"and anything else you're giving away.\" He gave Mackenzie a broad wink.\n\n\"I don't give anything away,\" she said, flouncing off.\n\n\"Best steaks around, Mac.\"\n\nRosita returned with Mackenzie's beer, setting it down carefully and then bending deeply to give him his silverware rolled up in a napkin and a view of her large brown breasts beneath her low cut blouse. She smiled enticingly at Mackenzie.\n\nJoe hooked her belt with his finger and pulled her toward him. \"Be extra special nice and hurry us up a platter of them ribs to get us started. O.K.?\"\n\nShe smiled again at Mackenzie and left, waggling her hips.\n\n\"She likes you, Mac.\"\n\nMackenzie gave a good natured grin but quickly turned the conversation to Joe's work. Any problems?\n\n\"I just took on a new hand as a derrick man. His qualifications looked decent, come from Dubai with Arco, but he don't hardly seem to know nothing. Acts more like a weevil than an experienced man. I've had to check him out on everything.\"\n\n\"Sounds like a lot of trouble.\"\n\n\"You probably passed him on your way in here. I've bumped him to motor man on night tower. That shouldn't be too tough, keeping track of engine oil levels. I suppose I'll have to make sure he don't fall asleep and drop off the derrick.\"\n\nMackenzie laughed. \"How did he hear about the site?\"\n\n\"He said he was in Pecos snooping around for a drilling site. Someone gave him directions and he turned up, just like a guardian angel. I do hate to run short-handed.\"\n\n\"Lucky.\"\n\n\"I'll have a break starting tomorrow. He'll have his week off. Maybe by the time he gets back, it'll have sunk in.\"\n\nRosita arrived at their table with a heaping plate of beef short ribs. The men ignored her for the ribs, which they silently demolished.\n\n\"You've sure broken in a lot of men through the years,\" Mackenzie commented after a while, wiping greasy fingers on a paper napkin.\n\n\"Yep. Sure have. I remember you when you was a raw one.\"\n\n\"On the Neptune Challenger.\" This was it. Mackenzie had thought through his plan to pick Joe's brains about that long ago drilling expedition. He didn't want to overplay it, tell too much at this stage.\n\n\"Yep. The funniest off-shore rig I was ever on. Ship, wasn't it? I never seen anything like it.\"\n\n\"Yes, a lot of money had gone into it. A government project.\"\n\n\"Sure enough, I remember. The National Science Foundation. I felt pretty important, working on that project. We was going deep on that one, too. If I recall, we went over 20,000 feet. Remember how we almost had a blowout? Boy, that was a close one.\"\n\n\"We used the new Blowout Preventer for the first time. We were all a little anxious about that. Even Fowler.\"\n\n\"Oh, I remember.\" Joe's steak arrived, and he became preoccupied with attending to it, saucing, salting, peppering. Mackenzie waited patiently, blowing on a spoonful of chili, until he saw Joe take the first bite, his jaws moving like a trip hammer.\n\n\"I'm still amazed we could hold that well in. You were trying to get the mud weight up, but it wouldn't hold.\"\n\nJoe nodded, swallowing painfully. \"Sure, sure. Oil and gas shot out like from a cannon.\"\n\n\"You recall that?\"\n\n\"Never forget it, off the California coast. Deepest hole I'd ever dug, and then to hit oil like that and be told to close it up. I never said boo, but I wondered for years why we didn't go back. Too expensive I bet. Reckon we might go in again if oil prices go up like you say they will?\"\n\n\"We might,\" Mackenzie said, relief tinging his voice with good cheer. Joe's memory was accurate, clear. He would make a wonderful witness. \"That was called Project Moho then.\" He took a large bite of chili and felt fire ignite on his tongue.\n\n\"Sure it was. I hadn't give it much thought over the years, but that's it. Project Moho. Them were the days, Mac. You was green as an English pea, but hardworking and you knew your business. I could tell you was going places. . . .\"\n\nThey finished their dinner with more reminiscences and then had an amicable scuffle over the bill. Mackenzie won.\n\nThe two-hour flight to Houston would get him back at the start of the rush hour, but that was O. K. He had managed to grab a quick shower and change his clothes before he left his hotel in Cordell on Friday. Rick would be at his house this evening as he always was on Fridays after term was over to spend the weekend.\n\nAt the time of the divorce, Rick had been eleven and had wanted to stay with his father. But Mackenzie traveled too much for that to be practical, so Rick stayed at his old home during the week with his mother and spent weekends with his dad. Every summer, Mackenzie and his son took a trip together. This summer, however, Rick was invited to travel in Europe with a school friend and his parents. Mackenzie and Tricia had agreed, for once, that it was a grand opportunity. The travelers were scheduled to leave next week. With his mind so preoccupied, Mackenzie was relieved to think Rick would be well entertained for the next month.\n\n*\n\nThe day following Mackenzie's flight back to Houston on Friday, four men were gathered in a decrepit twenties-style bungalow in an outlying rural district near Houston. It was near what had been the center of a now dead market town. The steps to the small front porch had rotted through and been replaced with cement blocks. Inside, sparse furnishings reinforced its look of a temporary dwelling. A portable color TV was creating a private din in one corner. In the center of the room, the four men sat around a card table on four unmatched chairs. A woman was in the nearby kitchen cooking something on a small stove.\n\nThe oldest of the men directed his dark gaze on a man in his late twenties directly across from him. \"I want it understood, Shafik,\" he cautioned, \"you are not to question your instructions. For the time being, you are backup to 'Davros,' as he calls himself, but that is only because you are so recently arrived.\"\n\nHe spoke in Arabic, with an occasional idiomatic phrase in Farsi. \"I, myself, am glad to have you here.\" His eyes never left the young man's face. \"We've already taken on one assassination. There will be more to come.\"\n\n\"I'm not questioning our mission, Mohammed. Didn't I complete my training satisfactorily in Libya? Didn't I agree to these arrangements to be near my sister here? I simply wanted to know how we will be protected by the Brotherhood if we're, Allah forfend, caught by the authorities.\"\n\n\"If you get caught,\" laughed the man called Davros, \"you may as well kill yourself anyhow. Just do what is asked of you and earn the money that was expended on you.\"\n\n\"You, Hussein,\" the apparent leader said, turning to a quiet young man with dark blue eyes and lightish skin, \"you must carry on as we planned. It has been decided that your target is too susceptible to Haber's persuasions. Haber is a still an unknown factor, but he most likely needs a warning. We've been assured he is safe, but,\" he spread his palms, \"what does that mean coming from someone who wants to believe that? We have orders to use our own devices to reassure ourselves.\"\n\n\"I saw Haber yesterday. He was meeting the target.\"\n\n\"Then we're right to move swiftly.\" The leader nodded to him. \"You have a week off work, you say?\"\n\n\"Yes, I'm not due back on the site until next Saturday.\"\n\n\"Do it immediately upon your return, then. You'll not be useful to us in this region after that. I hope your arrangements for leaving the area are well in hand.\"\n\n\"Yes, I understand. My duty is clear. I've secured a job in Florida.\" He grinned. \"Back to being a fisherman.\"\n\n\"What I'd like to know,\" said Shafik with a sour expression, \"is why we don't have all the details of this operation. What's the problem with these people we're after? What are we supposed to be stopping? I don't like operating in the dark.\"\n\n\"All you need to know for now is that they're enemies of the Jihad.\" He put his strong hand on the younger man's wrist and squeezed until he winced. \"Let others worry about the reasons.\"\n\n\"Yes, of course. I just meant--\"\n\n\"Do you also understand?\" the leader cut in, directing baleful eyes upon Hussein. \"If any of us is picked up and questioned, it's better we don't know everything. I know who we're working for, but you don't. Even I haven't been informed as to the details, but it's obviously a mission of some magnitude. But for now, no further questions. Is that clear?\"\n\nThey nodded in assent. The leader held up his glass of tea and said, \"Hegira!\"\n\n\"Hegira,\" the men repeated, lifting their glasses.\n\n\"Back to our roots, the source of our well being!\" one cried enthusiastically.\n\nThey then turned their attention to the woman bringing in a steaming pot of spicily-seasoned rice and chicken.\n\n*\n\nExactly one week later, Hussein was on night tower. It was boring but simple work. He had an uneasy feeling the toolpusher was suspicious of him. Didn't know why, except he was stupid about things he should've known. But he would be smart about carrying out his real job.\n\nHe had made his round of the ground level engines. After checking oil levels and replacing fluids, he had climbed to the platform and waited until he saw Joe Scudder.\n\nHe saw him first looking over the activities. The mud man was doing his check for mud acidity over on the west side of the mud pit. He had the sample catcher ready for testing inside the trailer. The driller was standing at the kelly bushing, totally absorbed in watching the progress of the drill stem. When Scudder looked up at the platform, Hussein motioned for him to come up. This close to the drilling, speaking was nearly impossible, so for conversations the men used the \"dog house\" situated on the platform high above the drill floor.\n\nThe toolpusher arrived at the top, puffing a little from the nearly thirty-five foot climb, and gestured toward the dog house.\n\n\"What now,\" Joe grumbled, once inside the metal hut, which served as the tower control center and also as a rest area for the men. Hussein led Joe to the mud log graph.\n\n\"I don't see anything--\" His words were cut off as Hussein struck him with a wrench. As he clubbed the man, his mouth formed the words \"Hegira.\" He opened the door cautiously but no one was in sight. Quickly, he took Joe's inert body and hauled it through the doorway to the east side of the tower. Below, the vast tank of mud lay like a swimming pool, glistening blackly in the starry sky.\n\nA shove, and Joe's body fell unnoticed into the tank.\n\nHussein removed a magic marker from his pocket and scrawled onto the steel of the dog house, \"Hegira.\" Then he climbed down the tower and vanished into the night.\n\n7\n\nStaring intently into the mirror over his dresser, he inserted the onyx and gold studs and adjusted his black tie. Rick was sprawled in a chair watching his father.\n\n\"Why so dressed up? Something special going on at Mr. Fox's?\"\n\n\"Not really. Eloise likes it this way, unless they're having a barbecue. A little more formal, even for a small party.\" Mackenzie turned to face his son. \"You're sure you don't need any money?\"\n\n\"Nah, we're going to a movie and then get pizza. It's just us guys. We're having a pretty mild fling before Steve and I go 'abroad.' I'll probably even be home early.\" He grinned at his father. \"Will you?\"\n\nMackenzie gave him a mock stern look. \"A little respect for the old man, please. I shouldn't be late, though. Unless Fowler gets carried away and keeps us for hours after dinner.\"\n\n\"Who else'll be there?\"\n\n\"Just Eloise and my guest.\"\n\n\"Who's that?\"\n\n\"A Mrs. Davin, a fellow instructor I met this year at the university.\"\n\nRick nodded and stood up as Mackenzie prepared to leave, grabbing keys, wallet, and handkerchief from the dresser top.\n\nOn the drive over to Teléah's, Mackenzie reflected on his son. A good boy, relatively unspoiled in spite of his advantages. He'd done well enough in his classes this year. What would he do if his father lost his job and were in disgrace? Life would be different for him, that's for sure. His expensive education would have to be downgraded a bit. Maybe a state school. Well, that wasn't so bad. It had come out all right for his father. Still, shame was hard to overcome.\n\nThen, too, Rick wouldn't have a leg up in the business. Might have to go into a different line of work altogether, which maybe would be a good idea anyhow. If Mackenzie blew the whistle and the Moho was opened up, there wouldn't be much future for petroleum geologists. Better he stick with engineering. At least there'd still be some work.\n\nNo more alimony for Tricia if he had no employment. She hadn't worked since they were married. What would she do? She had wanted the divorce over his objections, saying they were incompatible. He'd tried to be a good husband. He'd given her anything she wanted he could afford. Little to say to one another, though.\n\nBut he'd been faithful to her. Had she to him? He'd had his suspicions toward the end. He'd traveled too much, she said. But he was trying to give both of them the life they'd wanted. Then, too, he'd chosen to spend what free time he had with Rick. Mea culpa. Rick continued to be confused, bitter even that his folks had split. Little reason as he saw it. Mackenzie sighed. Except for Rick, his marriage was the one big failure of his life. His job the one big success. Now he was threatening to ruin that, too.\n\nIt had been a relatively quiet week after all the activity of the previous one. He'd had to tend to strengthening the drilling activities as well as formulating his revised budget. But the Moho sat on hold. Every time he thought about going public, he shrank a little inside. He'd have to approach Fowler again. Soon. Next week, maybe, after Fowler met Teléah.\n\nHe again had missed talking with her after class on Monday. His students had kept him longer than usual with their questions about job possibilities in their field. The talk had made him uncomfortable. By the time he escaped, Teléah had gone.\n\nWhen Teléah opened the door to admit him, he broke into a pleased grin. \"Wow! What happened to the teacher?\"\n\nTeléah laughed, admitting him into the apartment. \"Gone for the evening, at least. You look a little different yourself.\" She was dressed in a long black silk sheath, slit high to show a beautifully shaped leg. The fitted bodice with its jeweled collar emphasized her full breasts. Her skin looked like alabaster. She was wearing her dark hair upswept, the first time he'd seen it that way. Mackenzie was transfixed by the sight of her. Gorgeous.\n\nShe fetched an evening bag, switched off all but one light, and then, turning to Mackenzie, said, \"Shall we go?\"\n\nOn the way to the Foxes', they spoke at first as if following the rules of polite, inconsequential conversation--the weather, the end of spring term, Rick's trip abroad.\n\nThen she said in a different tone, \"Have you had any positive results from your inquiry? You did go to Washington?\"\n\n\"I went, and I'm sorry I didn't tell you about it sooner. We seemed to be just missing each other at school.\"\n\n\"Call me at home anytime, Mackenzie. You know I'll be glad to talk to you about the problem.\"\n\nHe told her why the trip to Washington had been a waste of time, his thwarted attempt to see the secret record.\n\n\"A shame. I'm so sorry. Any other leads?\"\n\n\"I went to a drilling site in West Texas last week and while I was there, I talked to the toolpusher who worked aboard the Neptune Challenger, the drill ship.\" He explained about Joe's potential value as an expert witness.\n\n\"How wonderful!\n\n\"Yep, he'll be fine--if I decide to break the conspiracy.\"\n\n\"But you're not sure.\"\n\n\"I hate like hell to do it by myself. I feel like a traitor. The worst of it is, I'd be putting Fowler in jeopardy, too, without his knowledge.\"\n\n\"I understand your feeling. There must be a way to convince Fowler. Maybe Chaim will have an idea. He looks forward to meeting you.\"\n\nAs the Foxes' home came into view, Mackenzie self-confidence suddenly waned. This may not be such a good idea. Fowler could get pretty pissed off if he thought he was being manipulated.\n\n\"Have a cigar, Mac,\" Fowler said, proffering the humidor. \"Very fine weed from Jamaica.\"\n\nMackenzie took one of the long H. Upmann's and held it to his nose, inhaling its rich, pungent aroma. The women had left the room; the men would rejoin them for coffee later. The cigar lighting ceremony took several silent minutes, and Mackenzie puffed gently, watching Fowler's face. He was in an unusually good mood tonight. As if nothing in the world was bothering him. Lucky for him, Mackenzie thought.\n\nAt dinner, Fowler, as amiable host, had asked Teléah about her professional life to which she responded with entertaining stories of her experiences teaching in America. But it was Mackenzie who urged her to tell of the trials and conflicts she had lived through in her native land.\n\n\"I didn't actually fight myself,\" she said with a faint note of apology, \"though I was trained, of course. But I remember as a child the terror that struck me whenever I heard the sirens. And after a raid, on the way to school, I would get as close as I could to a soldier as he walked down the street. I hoped he would protect me if we were attacked again.\"\n\nFowler nodded his head, but didn't comment. Eloise kept on the subject, however, asking about Teléah's life in Jerusalem, especially her children.\n\n\"I'm sorry to say I don't know how they are. There's a communication blackout in Israel.\"\n\n\"Really?\" said Eloise with surprise.\n\n\"The Arabs are pushing again,\" said Fowler.\n\n\"I'm so sorry.\" Eloise gave Teléah a pitying look.\n\nThen, abruptly, Fowler began questioning Teléah about her impressions of Houston. Before long, Teléah had gotten him going on his early years in the oil business, his development of the company. Fowler expanded noticeably. He cracked jokes and flirted, leaning toward her several times with a sort of intimacy that annoyed Mackenzie and must have made Eloise want to head for the nearest gin bottle, her frequent refuge in past years.\n\n\"I'll bet you ladies need to powder your noses while Mac and I have a cigar,\" Fowler said after their dessert, addressing his wife.\n\nTeléah rose and followed Eloise from the room. She had made an impression, but was it the right one? Was she to Fowler simply a new woman to captivate? Mackenzie couldn't tell. If she had made a difference in Fowler's thinking about the crisis, he wasn't giving it away.\n\nOut of the blue, while Mackenzie was relaxing, watching the smoke curl to the beamed ceiling, Fowler said, \"You'll be mighty young, you know, to be the head of Gravely and Fox. Which you're soon to be. I'll be wrapping things up shortly.\"\n\nMackenzie sat upright. \"I hadn't considered anything happening so soon. Do you mean now, this summer?\"\n\nFowler nodded. \"I was ten years older than you when I took over. I had to wait until Gravely retired; that had been part of the deal. But I really ran the place from the time I was thirty-five. I bet you feel the same.\"\n\n\"Not on your life! With you around? You're hardly known for absentee management.\" They both laughed.\n\n\"How do you feel about letting go on the operations end?\"\n\n\"I think I can let go. Once you move on to a new commitment, it gets easier each step of the way.\" Was that true? What had he committed to? The company or the Moho? He forced himself to look directly at Fowler through the haze of smoke. The old man was smiling.\n\n\"That's the way I see it, Mac. What do you think about Jeremy?\"\n\n\"He's capable and intelligent.\" He hesitated a moment. \"He's older than I am and has been a vice president a little longer, so he probably feels some strong rivalry.\" He'd be angry as hell. Jeremy would be looking for the slightest deviation from the norm to carry back to Fowler. Mackenzie resolved to take greater care in dealing with Willis. The stakes were too high. If Fowler even half suspected Mackenzie of treachery, there was no telling what he'd do.\n\nWhile Fowler spoke about his plans to retire, Mackenzie felt torn between feelings of satisfaction and anxiety. Fowler's support was essential; the man could contribute his knowledge and contacts and help solve the problems that loomed before Mackenzie. But this was not the time to broach the subject of the Moho again.\n\n\"You're not going to announce anything yet, are you?\" he asked Fowler blandly.\n\n\"No, I'll take it to the board in a couple of weeks. Just a formality, but a necessary one. After that, I can announce my retirement--I'm thinking about September--and who my replacement will be.\" Fowler scraped his chair on the parquet floor and came around the table to Mackenzie, who was rising from his seat.\n\n\"I couldn't be happier, Mac, if you were my own son.\" The big man gave Mackenzie an awkward one-armed embrace around his shoulders.\n\n\"Thanks, Fowler. I appreciate your. . .\" he swallowed, confidence? faith? \". . . your recognition of me.\" He hoped Fowler would mistake his tight-lipped smile of discomfort for one of modesty. He needn't have worried. Fowler was caught up in the emotion of the moment, seeing Mackenzie, no doubt, with the eyes of a grand seigneur bestowing his empire.\n\n\"Let's join the ladies. I think this occasion calls for a toast.\"\n\nIt was during the congratulatory drinks in the drawing room that the phone call came through. Eloise had given Mackenzie a kiss, warm in her praise of him. Teléah wore a smile, but as she shook his hand, her expression was somewhat puzzled. Mackenzie felt like an actor in a not very well written play, saying lines that seemed rehearsed. He felt relieved when Fowler, summoned by the maid, left the room.\n\n\"No one,\" said Eloise, \"deserves this more than you, Mac. I think Fowler can finally retire, knowing he's left the company in such strong hands.\"\n\n\"You're very kind, Eloise. I suddenly feel inadequate.\"\n\n\"Nonsense!\" She lowered her voice. \"After Fowler is off the premises--at least some of the time--you'll feel perfectly comfortable being in charge.\"\n\nMackenzie nodded. In fact, once he got the hang of it, he would relish having control.\n\nFowler returned from the other room, walking slowly, his eyes downcast.\n\nEloise gave him a frightened look. \"What is it, Fowler?\"\n\n\"Let's all sit down.\" He sank into the recesses of a velvet couch. \"I've had the worst possible news.\" He looked at Mackenzie. \"Joe Scudder is dead.\"\n\n\"Joe? It can't be,\" Mackenzie sputtered. \"He was fine when I left him last week. What happened? Heart?\" Joe dead!\n\nFowler gave a great sigh that was more a groan. \"Blenkinsop called. Joe had been checking the derrick for night tower. The mud man found Joe in the mud pit. Evidently fallen from the tower. Don't know yet if he was knocked unconscious and drowned or if he broke his neck.\"\n\n\"That's sounds impossible!\" Mackenzie said with heat. \"Joe Scudder careless? Was he alone? Wasn't the derrick man on night tower?\"\n\nFowler hunched forward, his face twisted with anger. \"That's what I asked. Where was the goddamned derrick man. He's gone. No one's seen him. Maybe he got scared, saw Joe fall. New man, Blenkinsop said.\"\n\n\"Yes, Joe told me he'd just hired him. Are the law enforcement people out there?\"\n\nFowler nodded. \"You bet. And they've got an APB on that new guy, too. Maybe he and Joe had words, pushing, that sort of thing.\" Fowler looked up. \"Hell, Mac, nobody ran a safer operation than Joe. Never lost a man all these years. I can't understand it.\"\n\n\"This Joe,\" said Teléah quietly, \"his job is what?\"\n\n\"Toolpusher.\" Mackenzie gave her a meaningful look and her face blanched.\n\n\"Are things under control for now?\" he asked Fowler.\n\n\"Yes, but we'll have to work on arrangements tomorrow. I've got to go call Joe's wife now.\" He rose and took Teléah's hand. \"I hope you'll excuse me. Our evening has ended most tragically when I hoped it would be a joyous occasion.\"\n\n\"I'm very sorry. I've had a delightful time.\" She held out her hand to Eloise and thanked her. Mackenzie said his goodbyes woodenly and ushered Teléah to the door.\n\nFor several minutes in the fast moving car, they didn't speak. Then Teléah said. \"This death seems mysterious. It may be a coincidence, but I don't think so.\"\n\n\"I wonder. Could someone else have gotten the same idea about Joe as I did?\"\n\n\"Your trip out there. Your talk with Joe . . .\"\n\nMackenzie thought for a moment. \"That's fast work. Also, if that new man had anything to do with it, Joe had hired him a few days before I got there.\" He paused. \"Joe talked about him to me. Thought he seemed inexperienced for someone who said he was well qualified. I have a feeling he won't be found. That his papers are phoney.\" He hit the steering wheel with his fist. \"Damn! I hate it that it ended for Joe like this. He was talking about retiring.\"\n\n\"Mackenzie, you must be doubly careful now. You don't know who else is concerned about the crisis and knows about the Moho. That you are involved.\"\n\nHe nodded his agreement. First, he would try Fowler again. Maybe since he was getting out of active management he'd consider releasing the information. But there was his promotion to consider. Where would his responsibility lie as the president? To the company or to truth? He wanted the job. It was the culmination of his life's work. But he'd be different from Fowler. He'd either restore integrity to the company or ruin it--and himself.\n\nMackenzie thought about his upcoming week. Events were crowding in on him. Rick was leaving Tuesday for Europe, the funeral for Joe would probably be no later than Wednesday. The meeting with the Israeli diplomat on Thursday. The confrontation with Fowler, whenever he could fit that in. Mackenzie swung the car into the long drive that led to Teléah's apartment.\n\n\"Mackenzie,\" Teléah said diffidently. \"This may not be the best time, but I can't get help from my people, so I must ask you. Would you be able to make some arrangements for me to get into Israel? I should be there, now. You mentioned something about having drilling operations in the area. Do you really think something could be arranged?\"\n\n\"Get into Israel?\" He looked at her in the darkness of the car, her features outlined by a small lamp on the outside of her quarters. Lovely, strong features. They might have been those etched onto an ancient coin. He would miss her.\n\n\"Of course. At least I can try. I know some people in Egypt. I expect it'll stay neutral as long as possible. There's no overland traffic, I understand. But if we could work out something with the Egyptian authorities for you to fly in to Cairo and then take a boat to the drill ship, maybe your people could arrange an air pickup. That's just off the top of my head, but it might be managed.\"\n\n\"I'd appreciate it so much. I can't bear being separated from my children for who knows how much longer.\"\n\nHe helped her out of the car and walked her to her door. She didn't ask him in, which didn't surprise him. But she did extend her hand. \"Thank you for this evening, Mackenzie Haber. I wish nothing more than that everything works out for you--and selfishly, for me.\"\n\n\"I do too,\" he agreed fervently.\n\n8\n\nTaken as a day of rest or spiritual reflection, this Sunday was a bust. Mackenzie did invoke the Creator's name several times in frustration. He had numerous phone conversations with Hank Blenkinsop and Chris Royster about transporting Joe's body to Houston where an autopsy would be performed; then there was damage control--having the papers sent on the new man who had disappeared, a William Apple, and finding a replacement for the number two toolpusher who had been promoted to Joe's place.\n\n\"I want you and Chris,\" he told Blenkinsop, \"to meet with me privately as soon as you get to Houston tomorrow.\"\n\n\"Sure, Mac. We'll be there about three in the afternoon.\"\n\n\"Also, Hank, take a close look at the platform where Joe was when he fell.\"\n\n\"Want me to look for some structural damage?\"\n\n\"Just anything out of the ordinary.\"\n\nMackenzie put his mind to other problems, but nothing seemed be going right. He couldn't find the company pilot, who had taken off for a few days. Mackenzie had to call the personnel director at home and ask her to get the name of their back-up pilot. Then after looking at the resume of the mysterious William Apple faxed by Royster, Mackenzie had to wait for hours until it was Monday morning in Dubai and he could reach the Arco office. When he finally talked to them, they had no record of employing a William Apple. He could have simply lied to get a job, or it could be more ominous.\n\nAt least he didn't have to handle the funeral arrangements; Fowler was taking care of that with Joe's wife. The event was planned for Wednesday at a funeral home near the Scudder residence.\n\nMackenzie finally left the office to go home at ten o'clock that evening. Rick had spent the day with his mother, getting his gear ready for his trip. Mackenzie fixed himself some eggs and toast and a glass of milk, trying to switch from full throttle to idle. He was looking over the Sunday papers when the phone rang. He contemplated not answering it, but he couldn't help himself. He grimaced at his ingrained, Midwestern sense of responsibility which drove him to pick up the receiver. It was Tricia.\n\n\"Is everything all right with Rick?\" he asked, anxiously. They hardly ever spoke anymore except to discuss their son.\n\n\"He's fine. Trying to decide what to take. Or rather, what not to take. I told him to pack everything he thought he'd need and then take out half.\"\n\nMackenzie laughed. \"Good plan.\"\n\n\"Actually, Mac. I'd like to talk to you.\"\n\nHe inwardly groaned. Not more crap on top of today, please. \"Sure, what about?\"\n\n\"Not here. I thought we could meet at the airport to see Rick off and then go somewhere for lunch, maybe?\"\n\n\"If not about Rick, what then? I've got a pretty hectic schedule this week. Joe Scudder's been killed on a rig, for one thing.\"\n\n\"Oh, Mac, I'm sorry. How did it happen?\"\n\n\"An accident, I guess. Look, couldn't we meet the following week? It would help me out a lot.\"\n\n\"I'd like to, Mac, I really would, but something's come up. I really need to talk to you, and I don't want to do it on the phone.\"\n\nHe let out his breath. \"O. K. I'll see you at the airport.\"\n\n\"Thanks, Mac.\"\n\nMoney, undoubtedly. She was being particularly nice, but also stubborn, a key component of her pleas for money over the years. He had managed to fight off attempts to get her alimony increased. The courts had agreed he had been more than generous at the time of the divorce. This latest money crisis probably meant she had over-charged her limit and wanted an advance. Bother! As if he didn't have enough on his mind.\n\nHe had been so occupied on Sunday, he'd not had time to think about the implications of Joe's death. But on Monday, driving to the office, he reviewed his options on the Moho. Now, the danger seemed intensified. Not particularly promising. He wished he had a brainstorm on what to do. Again, he thought of his only remaining possibility--Fowler cooperating. He'd try again, but he felt he already knew the outcome of that second attempt.\n\nShortly after three, Blenkinsop and Royster arrived at the company and were shown into Mackenzie's office. Blenkinsop looked drawn, exhausted, his healthily tanned face dulled from lack of sleep. The younger Royster, though subdued by events, had the resiliency to spring back to his usual energetic self.\n\n\"How's everything at Diablo?\" Mackenzie asked, offering them both drinks which they gratefully accepted.\n\n\"I guess we'll be O.K.,\" Chris Royster said. \"Harmon's a pretty good toolpusher, and I briefed him on the deep well drilling. He'll keep things going until we get back.\"\n\nMackenzie nodded and turned to Blenkinsop. \"Did you take a look at the tower?\"\n\n\"Sure did. Everything's sound as a dollar. No loose struts, braces, nothing that could have tipped Joe off like that. I noticed some writing scrawled on the dog house exterior that seemed strange.\"\n\n\"What was it?\"\n\n\"One word, written in, maybe, magic marker. H-e-g-i-r-a,\" he spelled out. \"Mean anything?\n\n\"Could be.\" Hegira!\n\nAt 4:45 that afternoon, Mackenzie got word that the autopsy had been completed. Joe Scudder had met his death from a preliminary blow to the head and subsequent suffocation in the mud pit. The authorities held this to be inconclusive that he had been killed. He might have lost his footing, they said, and struck his head on the way down. And my mother wears a grass skirt, thought Mackenzie bitterly.\n\n*\n\n\"Where to?\" Mackenzie asked. They were walking from the gate at Houston Intercontinental after seeing Rick off.\n\n\"Tony's?\" Tricia suggested with a little laugh.\n\nHe hesitated only a moment. It was pricey, but what the hell. He agreed and they parted to find their respective cars. He thought his ex-wife looked a bit haggard. Too thin, as he might have expected, but he knew her object was to look like an elegant rail. He drove in no great rush along Post Oak Boulevard and turned into the parking area of the restaurant. Tricia hadn't given away the subject of their meeting. But, of course, she wanted to set the stage for that. He needed to be mellow with food and drink before she hit him up.\n\nTricia must have broken the speed limit in the red BMW convertible. She had already been shown to a table, leaving his name with the maître d', who led Mackenzie to the table. She seemed quite nervous, already having ordered wine, which she was sipping, a cigarette between her fingers. Her long blonde hair swung around her shoulders as she repeatedly tossed her head.\n\nHe had hardly given his order of a Dubonnet over ice to the waiter when she surprised him by saying, \"Mac, do you know who might be calling me about a protection service?\"\n\n\"Protection service? Do you mean a household alarm system? You've already got that.\"\n\nShe'd gotten a call on Sunday--strange day for doing business--asking her to subscribe to something called a world-wide protection service. Tricia had been puzzled. Still was.\n\n\"I didn't know what he meant, and he didn't explain it very well. Was it for credit cards, I asked. No, it was personal protection. Why would I need personal protection? He said I should ask my former husband. I thought maybe you had talked to someone who was trying to sell you something.\"\n\n\"I don't know anything about it.\" Mackenzie stared at her. Was this a device to silence me? He turned to the menu and pretended to study it.\n\nA waiter appeared at his elbow and took Tricia's order for grilled sole and spinach salad. Mackenzie nodded the same. He wasn't very hungry.\n\nAfter the waiter left, Tricia demanded, \"What's going on? It disturbed me. I'm a little scared.\"\n\n\"His voice. How did it sound? Friendly, menacing?\"\n\n\"Foreign, \" she said firmly. \"He had an accent, but it wasn't Mexican. I know that accent. It wasn't strong, either, just faintly accented. Peculiar, really.\"\n\n\"But that's all the person said, something about 'protection'?\"\n\n\"When I asked who the company was, he said 'Jeera' or at least it sounded like that.\"\n\n\"I see.\" Mackenzie twirled the wine glass between his fingers. Hegira again. \"I think I know what this is about. It has nothing to do with you. I can't imagine why they would have bothered you except to get to me.\"\n\n\"Who is it? Who're 'they'?\"\n\nHe shook his head. \"This is very complicated. I don't know who they are. I've been making some inquiries, talking to some people about an old project that Gravely and Fox was involved in. I don't want to burden you with the details, but it's becoming apparent others are concerned. The stakes are high.\"\n\n\"Oh, Mac, don't tell me you've gotten yourself in some sort of bind. Does Fowler know about it?\"\n\n\"Yes, but my position puts me as odd man out.\"\n\n\"In other words, you're fighting Fowler.\"\n\n\"Not overtly yet. But, yes, you could say I'm making waves.\"\n\nShe looked at him with an angry glare on her fine features. She was still an attractive woman, despite her thinness. But somewhere along the way, she'd lost confidence in the power of her beauty, and her haunted eyes reflected that knowledge. \"How can you do that? Fowler's your bread and butter.\"\n\nAnd yours! Color rose in his face. \"I've not always agreed with him, you know.\"\n\n\"But you should know when to draw the line.\"\n\nNow their food had come and she was distracted from her probing. Mackenzie asked for more ice water.\n\n\"What,\" she persisted, \"is this about? Can't you tell me? I seem to be involved myself.\"\n\n\"No, it's better you don't know.\"\n\nClever of them, whoever they were, to pull her in. She wasn't really his responsibility--but she was. Always would be in a way that he might never get over. He didn't love her anymore, but she was almost like one of his children, someone who needed his protection--not some world wide protection service!\n\n\"Oh, Mac. I'm sorry, and I'm scared. You won't tell me what it's about, and I don't know what to do. Should we go to the police? Is this some sort of threat?\"\n\n\"No police. It's more of a warning, I think, than a threat. I'm a little concerned about Rick, though. He might be vulnerable traveling around Europe.\"\n\n\"Yes, Rick, too. They said something about him needing the service.\"\n\n\"Oh, God,\" Mackenzie moaned. If his family was to be the knife they held to his throat, so be it. He would have to cave in and forever be silent. No more ruffling of feathers.\n\n\"Don't worry about this anymore, Tricia. I think I can guarantee you'll have no more calls.\"\n\n\"Then you can control this situation?\" She poured herself another glass of wine from the carafe.\n\n\"Yes, I can control it.\" Stop everything, he told himself, stop now. \"Just call me if you get anymore strange messages.\"\n\n\"Mac,\" Tricia said, covering his hand with her own. It was trembling slightly. \"I'm sorry I was sharp just now. Just a little nervous, what with Rick going off and all. I wondered . . .\"\n\n\"Yes?\"\n\n\"Could we meet again sometime? We don't need to be strangers, do we?\"\n\n\"It's been a long time, Tricia.\"\n\n\"Too long?\"\n\nHe smiled but didn't answer. He'd spent enough time seven years ago asking questions about the marriage that Tricia had refused to answer. He wasn't interested in raking up any of that again.\n\nShe drew back at his silence. \"I should have guessed you'd stonewall me. Fowler warned me about your stiffnecked pride. That my decision would be irrevocable.\"\n\nHe frowned, his fork suspended in mid air. \"What does Fowler have to do with it?\"\n\nShe waved her hand as if batting a fly. \"It was years ago, of course. It hardly matters now. I thought, like a fool, that he'd marry me, but that had never been his intention. Too late for me, though. I'd already filed for divorce, burned my bridges. And it looks like they can't ever be repaired.\" She tossed her head.\n\nMackenzie understood what she'd said, but he didn't want to believe it. Had she made up some fiction in order to hurt him more? \"Are you telling me you had an affair with Fowler, and that's what broke up our marriage?\"\n\n\"So long ago,\" she murmured, moving pieces of salad from one side of the plate to the other. \"I was lonely. Didn't feel very good about myself. You were gone all the time--\"\n\n\"Trying to get ahead,\" he retorted angrily. He'd be damned if he'd sit still for another recital of his faults--and pay for it.\n\n\"I guess that's right. I was self-centered. It takes two. But Fowler played me like a violin. He knew all the right tunes.\"\n\n\"How long did it go on?\"\n\n\"Over six months. I read all the signs wrong about Fowler. He took what pleased his taste like a fat woman takes candy. Without a thought.\"\n\n\"And after you got the divorce?\"\n\n\"He said, bye-bye. He didn't want to leave Eloise. Ha! He didn't want to tarnish his image of the very rich, though lately arrived, upstanding citizen. Eloise and her family were part of that image. I was simply another scalp.\"\n\nHe tightened his lips. Evidently Fowler wasn't troubled by pangs of conscience. He thought for a moment. Unless his appointment to the vice presidency was the payoff. It came shortly after the divorce.\n\n\"I'm beginning to wonder what Fowler really thinks of me.\"\n\n\"He needs you. Don't think he gave you the promotion just because he'd been screwing your wife. He's always thought highly of you.\"\n\n\"Sure.\" His voice had a bitter ring to it, but that had little to do with hurt; no man liked the thought of being cuckolded, especially by a best friend or a boss.\n\nSometime during the afternoon he began to think differently about the telephone message Tricia had received. He had just put down the phone from talking with Mildred Scudder. Yes, she would be glad to see him in thirty minutes or so. His thoughts were on Joe, then on the implied threats to Tricia and Rick. Mackenzie had first assumed that whoever was pushing him would kill his family--if Tricia could be so termed--if he disclosed information about the Moho.\n\nBut what if he was careful in his investigation to find proof? He had no intention to release the information to the press or government officials anyway. He'd simply been acting like a naive fool, openly visiting the NSF and at the Diablo site taking Joe to dinner in a public place. Besides, if murdering Rick and Tricia was their leverage over him, he would logically not stop with their deaths, God forbid! He'd be even more committed to go forward. Surely they would know this. They must be banking on the implied threats demoralizing him to the extent that he would cease his attempts to halt the embargo.\n\nIf this group, the Hegira, had determined someone would have to die over the release of the information, why hadn't he been taken out first? With his guard down, as it had been, anyone could have arranged for his death without much trouble. No, they were simply trying to push him back into the conspirators' fold. Care, then, would be his watchword.\n\nBut wait. Maybe there was another reason they had left him alone; perhaps they were concerned he had already talked to someone about it. That could really be their dilemma. He supposed that at some point they would realize that he had nothing but his memory and the hope of convincing the other conspirators. No solid proof--yet. But they may not know that either.\n\nThey seemed to have been concentrating on the weakest links in the conspiracy. Joe had been a danger with his broad knowledge of the operation; led by Mackenzie, he could've been too good a witness. But he couldn't have been merely threatened: he had not been a conspirator and had known nothing from that angle. He had to be killed.\n\nLeo could have been coerced into either silence or speaking out. It only depended on who had the most clout at the time. Mackenzie, however, was not so easily intimidated and had been making sounds like someone ready to talk. So why not threaten those nearest him, for whom he felt responsible? Now he was supposed to lie down and play dead. And if he didn't, he'd suffer the consequences.\n\nAlso, with the name \"Hegira\" and Tricia's descriptions of the caller, the implication was clear that a Mid Eastern group was directing the threats, probably even the attacks on Joe and Leo. But in a way that made no sense. If anyone sent by OPEC or the radical Islamic sects knew Mackenzie and Leo were part of the conspiracy, they'd also know what the conspiracy was about, wouldn't they? If they knew, then why wouldn't they themselves mine the region on their own as Fowler had suggested? God knows they had the resources.\n\nBut if they did open up the Moho, that would alert the whole world to the availability of unlimited oil. No, their goal had to be to keep a lid on the discovery. But there was a further possibility--that this terrorizing effort was coming through the auspices of a renegade watchdog agency of his own government. The thought was chilling and disheartening as hell.\n\nAs he pondered, he drove quickly, too quickly, and had a near miss with a truck. Must watch himself. It was not impossible that he could end up like Joe with a bad accident. The end of Mackenzie Haber, the nuisance, spoil sport, problem child. He must be looking pretty important to the unknown others right now. What, they were asking themselves, will he do next? He must be careful, doubly careful, but he wouldn't give up yet.\n\nJoe and Mildred Scudder had a little horse farm--less than ten acres--off Highway 288, south of the city, where Mildred trained and bred paints for fun, \"not for profit, that's for danged sure,\" Joe had always said ruefully. Mackenzie unhooked the latch of the steel gate that led to the long drive. Four horses grazed in a long side pasture, unimpressed by the car that kicked up gravel and dust alongside them. They looked as if they had been splashed indiscriminately from buckets of white and black and brown paint.\n\nMildred and Joe's daughter opened the door to him.\n\n\"Hello, Lucy, is your mother here?\"\n\n\"Sure is, Mr. Haber. Won't you come in? Some of the relatives just left, and Mom was looking forward to seeing you.\"\n\n\"What about Floyd?\"\n\n\"He's on his way from Germany. His plane gets in tonight.\"\n\n\"Good. I can't tell you how sorry I am about your father.\" He patted her shoulder, and she leaned her head against him and began to quietly sob.\n\n\"Lucy!\" Her mother came from the back room and strode toward Mackenzie. Her eyes were dry, but her mouth was strained and hard. \"Leave that poor man alone. Go on to your room if you can't control yourself.\"\n\n\"It's all right, Mildred. I know how hard this is for all of you.\"\n\nLucy left the room, giving Mackenzie an apologetic smile.\n\n\"Yep, and we may as well quit crying. It won't bring Joe back. I don't understand, Mac, how the hell this happened.\" She brushed a stray hair from her forehead. Her arms and hands were brown and strong.\n\n\"I don't either, Mildred. I'm looking into it.\"\n\n\"Why, Joe Scudder was the most careful man I know. He used to drive me crazy about the horses. 'Don't do the work yourself', he'd say, as if I was a weakling. 'You'll get a hoof in your gut one of these days.' I could take care of myself, though, and now it seems poor Joe couldn't do the same.\"\n\n\"He'd been working pretty hard. I know, because I'd just--\"\n\n\"Hard, I'd say so!\" Mildred interrupted, with a kind of fury in her voice. \"I begged him to get out of it. He was overworked, always taking the hardest jobs. He was probably worn out and got careless. He was on a new well, wasn't he?\"\n\nMackenzie nodded. \"He was always willing, asked for the tough assignments.\" Mildred didn't have to know what he suspected about the so-called accident--not yet.\n\n\"Just like him. And just like Fowler to take advantage of him. Fowler has cheated Joe from the time he came on board.\"\n\n\"Cheated? He loved Joe.\"\n\n\"Oh, yeah, I don't doubt he claims to have loved him, but he cheats on everybody he says he loves.\" She leaned back and lit a cigarette. Her hand was trembling.\n\n\"Cheated him in what?\" He couldn't dispute her words.\n\n\"Back in the late thirties. They were working on a new drill stem testing something-or-other. Joe talked about it. He helped develop it, had the ideas, and the company patented it in the forties. Joe never got a dime.\"\n\n\"This isn't much comfort, but that's usual business practice. If someone is working for a company, the inventions go to company profits. It might have been good to have given Joe a substantial bonus, though.\"\n\n\"Ha! Fowler never gave Joe anything but plenty of hard work. No bonus, no chance to buy into the company.\" Her bitterness was so intense, Mackenzie could only wish to depart. He was here as a friend, but he also had to represent the company too. At the moment, he didn't much relish the role of company godfather.\n\n\"Mildred, I'm arranging for a scholarship fund in Joe's name at the drilling school. Also, I know the insurance we carried on Joe is going to be very helpful. You shouldn't hurt for anything.\"\n\nShe swallowed and her composure, held together by anger, broke. \"Thanks, Mac. You've always been decent.\" She leaned toward him, her eyes shiny with unspilled tears, and Mac gave her a kiss on her rough cheek. Now he could leave, but he didn't feel he had given much comfort. How could he if he had been ultimately responsible for her husband's death?\n\n9\n\nMackenzie thought he should try to lead as outwardly normal a life as possible for the benefit of any who might be keeping tabs on him. He had a few anxious moments. Was that solitary man by the elevator in the building lobby watching for him? What about the maroon car so persistently behind him as he sped towards home? Settle down! He didn't want to let his imagination run wild. He needed to keep his head on straight, go about his business like a man without a secret.\n\nHe found the word \"Hegira\" in the dictionary: it had several meanings, from the forced flight of Mohammed from Mecca to Medina, to the term for the beginning of the Islam period, and generally, any flight to safety. But other than its Islamic derivation, it was still a mystery.\n\nDespite the danger, he was eager to meet Teléah's friend Thursday evening. Sure, it could be a foolhardy move if the wrong people saw him going to the Israeli Consulate--for him, maybe for Teléah. Anyone in his circle now seemed to be singled out for intimidation or, in the case of Joe, and maybe Leo, death. He had an uneasy feeling about Leo's death. The danger was real. Mustn't be stupid. He'd have to apply special tactics to shake anyone who might be following him.\n\nIn the meantime, there was Joe's funeral. During the service, he had to control his emotions as he thought of the sad end for Joe, as fine and loyal an employee as any company could wish for. Fowler had no such inhibitions, openly sniffing, wiping his eyes, and blowing heartily at the conclusion of the service. Mackenzie could hardly look at him. What did he really feel? So much duplicity, posturing.\n\nOn their way out, they all shuffled past the open casket on the catafalque, and Mackenzie looked upon the features of Joe Scudder. No amount of funereal makeup could disguise the skin roughened by years of labor in the sun and wind. Mackenzie wondered what Joe had been spared if he'd asked the old toolpusher to go against Fowler and testify. Had he been as quietly outraged as Mildred openly was about Fowler cheating him? If so, then he might have done it without much protest. He could have been the most important key to undermining the conspiracy. Too late now.\n\nAfter the funeral and grave-side service, Mackenzie and Fowler were together in Fowler's office, ostensibly to review the funeral and talk about Joe, \"to wind down.\"\n\n\"I suppose we should have gone out to Joe's place for the reception, but I couldn't do it, Mac.\"\n\nMackenzie noted Fowler's recovery from his outburst at the funeral. He was posed at the expanse of glass with a drink in his hand, stolid and massive with his broad shoulders and legs like tree trunks. He should have had a voice like a fog horn instead of a ship's pipe, high and shrill. He had a nice suit today, though, dark blue worsted conventionally cut rather than the quasi-western look he sometimes affected.\n\n\"I'm sure Mildred understood,\" Fowler went on, nodding.\n\nMackenzie agreed. Indeed she did. But did Fowler?\n\nThe big man took his seat at the slab he considered his desk and removed a small meerschaum knife from his pocket. He began to pare his fingernails. \"Back when Joe started with us, this company was no more than one of hundreds. We all looked the same, but that changed soon enough.\"\n\n\"What was the difference?\" Familiar territory this, but Mackenzie in honor of the occasion deferred to Fowler's reminiscing. Every conversation now with the old man seemed to ring hollow. Armed with the knowledge of Fowler's cuckolding his supposedly favorite subordinate, Mackenzie saw every thing about his boss in a different light. Tricia's confession relieved him of feelings of treachery. Now, he felt only satisfaction in contemplating plans to go against Fowler's wishes on the Moho.\n\n\"Probably the drill stem testing device. We were the first, and ours the best for years.\" He swept the nail shavings into his top drawer. Then he pulled the drawer open farther and said, \"Ha! There it is. I was looking for this goddamned picture the other day.\" He held out a yellowing, curled up enlargement of a photograph.\n\nMackenzie saw a juvenile Joe and Fowler, looking uncomfortable in a huge moustache, arm in arm in front of an antiquated derrick. \"The Boomer Boys,\" he laughed.\n\n\"That whole damned rig nearly fell down on us. The testing device created such a vibration I had to design a whole new derrick.\"\n\nHe did? Or was that Joe's idea, too? \"Joe was talking about the early days, too, when I met with him out at Diablo.\"\n\n\"Oh, yeah?\" Fowler was smiling.\n\n\"He was fed up, though, Fowler. Ready to retire; did you know that?\"\n\n\"Joe retire? Hell, he was destined to die with his boots on sooner or later. I'm just sorry it was sooner. But he couldn't give it up.\"\n\n\"What about you?\" Now Mackenzie smiled. Mustn't antagonize him, not now. \"Won't you feel at loose ends?\"\n\n\"I'm gonna be around some, but I'm tired, Mac. I really am. I'm ready for you to make the day-to-day decisions.\" He swiveled around behind him to the credenza and retrieved a folder. \"Look at this, for example. Jeremy brought me these figures to consider. He wants a temporary allocation of working capital to go to Alchemgro. Says they need it to meet obligations next month. You say we need capital for drilling expansion. So what would you do in my shoes?\"\n\nSo Jeremy had done an end run to Fowler. Couldn't blame him for that. \"Let Alchemgro cut back--temporarily. Reduce production, lay off part-time help. The drilling operation has to be emphasized during this crisis and for the foreseeable future.\"\n\n\"I thought that's what you'd say.\" He leaned back in his chair. \"But how do we know the crisis is going to last very long?\"\n\nWas this a management exam? If so, he was a little late. But Mackenzie played his part well, reiterating all the key points.\n\nFowler nodded. \"Good. I like your reasoning.\" He scribbled something on the folder and tossed it behind him.\n\n\"Yep, I think I can safely let you handle things, Mac.\"\n\n\"But it'll be hard on you, hard to let go.\" He hated the sound of his smarmy voice as he pulled the right strings.\n\nHe nodded in agreement. \"It will, it will. I've given my life to this business, fought like a tiger so we'd have the upper hand, but could be that's not what's needed now. Times is a'changin', Mac, and I'm too old and stubborn to change.\"\n\n\"You too old? Never! You've always been open to new ideas. If you think it's time to relax some, that's different. You deserve that.\" Not too long ago Mackenzie could have repeated the gratuitous remarks without mentally flinching.\n\nFowler looked pleased. He took out a cigar and, using a tool on his knife, carefully clipped one end of the cigar. \"I know you've been feeling like you hit a dry hole these past couple of weeks, Mac. I hope by now your good sense has got the best of you.\"\n\nMackenzie was caught by surprise. He had not expected Fowler to bring up the subject, however obliquely. But of course he was hoping to wind it up. Make sure no loose ends of doubt were flapping in Mackenzie's head. At once he was aware of both an opportunity and a danger more immediate than the threat that lurked outside this room. His promotion was still hanging in the balance; he'd not worked like a slave all these years to be shut out by a Fowler suspicious of his loyalty. Yet the moment called for candidness.\n\n\"It's hardly been out of my mind for a minute day or night.\"\n\nFowler was calm today. No barking reminders. His face drooped in weighty piles of flesh, and he spoke with a kind of grieving lassitude. \"I had a feeling we hadn't put an end to it. Honest to God, Mac, if I'd a'thought we'd do any good in the long run I might could go along with you. Even if the company was spared, if you and I could avoid prosecution, we have to think about the other effects of opening up the Moho.\"\n\n\"I have thought about it, Fowler,\" Mackenzie said quietly.\n\n\"You know there's not a geologist alive who could predict what would happen if we started emptying that region of hydrocarbons. Volcanoes, earthquakes--who knows, the crust might collapse.\"\n\nMackenzie gave a derisive laugh. \"You might have spared me that, Fowler. We both know that there'd be about as much effect in siphoning off the Moho as sipping Lake Michigan through a straw. But we shouldn't be debating the dangers. I still believe others with greater responsibility should have that option.\"\n\n\"Responsibility!\" Fowler exploded. \"Our greatest responsibility is to ourselves. It's the same for everybody, and that's a fact. Why torture yourself? Get the fucking bastards before they get you. Work hard, serve your own interests, within the rules of the game, and you'll see progress and prosperity. What's wrong there? That's how we get all the benefits of\n\ncivilization.\"\n\nMackenzie couldn't speak for a moment. Fowler's twisted credo had a resonance of truth that hit him between the eyes. It was pretty much how he had conducted himself all these years. \"Rules of the game,\" he murmured. Then, beginning cautiously, he said, \"Maybe we have a different idea about what the rules are. But as I see it, we aren't operating within the rules. That's the flaw in all this.\"\n\nWhy was he arguing? There was no point. Fowler had no idea--or if he did he'd long ago crushed it--that they'd subverted the common good. Personal sacrifice was never part of Fowler's code. But what about his own willingness to sacrifice?\n\n\"I've been trying to understand why I caved in to the cover-up so readily. The fact is, come what may, we will have lived a lie, this company's success will have been a farce if we continue to prosper from this conspiracy. But beyond that, if we allow the costs of energy to rise and never disclose the truth, we have no right to call ourselves honorable businessmen, do we? Haven't we covered up something so important it literally has been affecting the whole world?\"\n\nInstead of shouting back at him, Fowler looked thoughtful for a moment. \"Hell, you act naive sometimes, Mac. Everybody covers up something if it serves their purposes. I'm frankly surprised that it hasn't leaked out before now--oh, not from you,\" he said hurriedly. \"I've often wondered who might know about this now with Elkins and the President gone.\"\n\n\"What difference does it make? No one in the government wants it disclosed for security reasons. I presume they have orders to protect the file.\"\n\n\"But someday we might want it known. Not now, but someday.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"What if the world's supply of oil lessens drastically for whatever reason--OPEC be damned. Say the pools have been emptied or OPEC gets really crosswise with the West and puts oil, for all practical purposes, out of reach. Maybe there wouldn't be enough energy to go around. Somebody who has the plans for a new supply could be king of all he surveys. It won't be me. It might not be you. But it might be your son.\"\n\n\"But if we're gone, how could it be released? How could it be proved with no access to the classified files?\"\n\nFowler smiled. \"That's been my little secret. I've made provision for you to be part of this too. Thirteen years ago I arranged some protection for Gravely and Fox, a way to cash in on reopening the Moho.\"\n\nThis could only mean one thing. \"You've got copy of the wireline tape?\"\n\n\"You didn't think I'd let myself be taken to the cleaners by that shithead Elkins, did you?\" Fowler gave his high, whinnying laugh. \"And it'll be yours after I'm gone, to do with as you see fit. Just remember, Mac, that everything I do is for the long term good and continuation of this company. Someday, my little secret could put Gravely and Fox and whoever's at its head onto the crest of a wave like nothing you've even seen. It's my legacy to the company.\n\n\"Right now, in the short term, it looks bad for Israel. But they've got to take responsibility for themselves. If they think they can continually rely on the United States for protection, they might as well pack it up now anyway. They happen to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, that's all.\"\n\nMackenzie was amazed that he could carry on without betraying his excitement. Fowler had a copy of the records, for God's sake. No wonder Hegira had been cautious about eliminating him as Fowler's heir. That Fowler might have deviated so radically from the agreement by having his own copy was not surprising. But why hadn't he suspected Fowler of doing just that? A copy could have been made, and Fowler would have had the opportunity when they stopped in Houston before setting off for Washington.\n\nHe needed time to consider what Fox had told him and what it meant. For now, he merely gazed at Fowler mutely, nodding. Then, feeling he should respond, he said, \"This has really taken me by surprise, Fowler. I'm honored, of course, that you shared this with me.\"\n\n\"Not at all, my boy. Not at all. Now you know why I've been so anxious for you to see it my way.\"\n\nMackenzie gave him a half smile and stood up. He asked to be excused. Press of business.\n\n\"Sure, sure, Mac. You go on ahead.\" He stood up and reached for Mackenzie's hand. \"I've appreciated our little talk. I think you do, too. Am I right? Eh? By the way, I've got it figured out why you're so interested in Israel all of a sudden.\" He gave Mackenzie a look from under his eyebrows. \"You're a sly one, keeping her all to yourself. Teléah, yes. Good looking woman. Make hay while the sun shines, boy. She won't be around here much longer.\"\n\n*\n\nJeremy put down the receiver carefully as if anyone might hear its click in the cradle and become suspicious even though he was safely behind closed doors in his own office. He was nervous about all this, he had to admit. Today, when the mid-week call came, he had little to report. With the funeral and all Mac's involvement in making arrangements, nothing of interest or importance had come up.\n\nThe whole business might seem distasteful to some, but the man, Davros, assured him his work would be a contribution to the security of the country.\n\n\"How so?\" he had asked the man, puzzled. His visit to Jeremy's home had come out of the blue last Monday after Jeremy's talk with Mac in his office. An infuriating talk that had left Jeremy shaking with impotent anger. He had stepped over Mac's patronizing assessment and detailed a request to Fowler directly. It was later, that evening after work, when he noticed a car waiting outside his condo and a man who emerged to hail him.\n\n\"Mr. Willis?\"\n\n\"Yes . . .\" he had answered coldly. He was expert at warding off salesmen.\n\nBut the man had immediately introduced himself, with a half-apologetic spelling of his name, \"of Greek origin,\" and offered Willis a glance at his official looking I.D. card with his picture clearly displayed. An agency of the government, Security Enforcement, wasn't it? The man had asked to talk privately with him, so he had led him into the coolness, the neatness of his bachelor quarters. He'd suggested a drink, but Davros refused graciously, saying he was still \"on duty.\"\n\n\"What's this all about?\" Willis asked warily. He'd never been mixed up with the law or officialdom and planned to keep it that way.\n\n\"As you know, there's a world crisis looming which requires us to monitor individuals whose activities may inadvertently aid and abet those who wish to embarrass the United States. Frankly, one of those individuals is your colleague Mackenzie Haber. Not,\" he said in a rush, holding up a pacifying hand, \"that Mr. Haber has done anything wrong, but he has some connections that could prove to be an embarrassment if he takes the wrong turn. We may have to intervene.\"\n\nJeremy felt a thrill run through him at Davros' words, but he merely said, \"This is a shock to hear. I can't believe Mac would cause a problem if he knew it. Why don't you just go to him, talk to him about it?\"\n\n\"That's the problem. He would be alerted to the situation, which is Top Secret. We can't talk to him about it without giving it away. And we don't wish to either frighten him or cause undue distress.\"\n\n\"Why have you come to me?\"\n\n\"You can help us by simply monitoring Haber's activities, within reason, of course, for the next few weeks. If he embarks on any journeys, meets with people unknown to you in your usual conduct of business, that sort of thing.\"\n\nJeremy was overwhelmed with the request, slightly befuddled by what he was being asked to do. Was this on the level? No trick to test his loyalty? No, Fowler would have no reason to go to such lengths. At the office, Jeremy and Mac appeared to be nothing more than worthy adversaries, each promoting his own interests. Mac must really be in some sort of precarious situation.\n\nFinally, after a long pause, he said, \"Are you asking me to spy on Mac?\"\n\nDavros shrugged. \"That's a harsh word, Mr. Willis. We want you to observe Haber's activities and report anything that may be deemed out of the ordinary, that may show heightened or unusual activity on his part.\"\n\nHe reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and removed a thick envelope. \"I've been authorized to hand this over to you. It will compensate, we hope, for the work you do for us.\" He smiled. \"We can't expect you to work for nothing.\"\n\nJeremy took the envelope and looked inside. \"It looks like a great deal of money.\"\n\n\"Five thousand.\"\n\nNot that much after all. Just a little more than he made in a week. But money was not the important consideration. He would be doing something to help the security of the country, perhaps, and himself in the long run. \"How long must I do this--observing?\"\n\nDavros waved his hand. \"No more than, say, a month to six weeks. The situation shall no doubt be resolved by that time. If we have to extend our surveillance beyond next month, you'll receive another visit from me, and we'll negotiate further.\"\n\n\"How will I contact you with information?\"\n\n\"We'll contact you by telephone, in person if it becomes necessary, twice a week. Each Wednesday at your office at 3:00 p.m. or every hour thereafter until we reach you. Each Sunday at 1:00 at your place. If you have important news, something extraordinary, you may reach me at this number.\" He handed Jeremy a slip of paper.\n\n\"I don't know. You say this is to monitor his activities. He won't get in trouble with the government if I report them to you?\"\n\n\"Not at all! This is a precautionary measure to prevent him from getting into difficulties.\" Davros rose from his chair. He held out his hand. \"Then we can count on you?\"\n\n\"I guess so. Yes.\" What did he have to lose, to risk? This could be exactly the break he was waiting for--a way to discredit Mac to Fowler after this was all over.\n\nSince that meeting with Davros, he had been able to report about the trip to Washington, the visit to Diablo. He even mentioned Mackenzie's class that was finishing up the semester. He asked his secretary to inform him if she ever discovered anything unusual about Mac's activities. She went out to lunch occasionally with Mac's secretary. All the secretaries but Fowler's Nora seemed to be on friendly terms.\n\nJeremy and his secretary had an understanding; he knew Kay was as eager as he to occupy the President's Suite. He had hinted to her right along that Mac was trying to discredit him, so Kay was already suitably motivated. He would give her an extra nice bonus this year, he had added.\n\nThe only news Kay had given him to report at the Sunday call rankled bitterly. She discovered from Mac's secretary that Mac had been invited to the Foxes' for dinner Saturday night. Now more than ever Jeremy wanted Mac taken down a peg or two. A private dinner with Fowler. This wasn't exactly news to be passed on to Davros, but she further said his date was a fellow instructor at the university--an Israeli woman! Maybe Mac was up to his ass in politics because of a woman. On the other hand, all of this could mean nothing, but as far as his \"job\" was concerned, it seemed the easiest, tax-free five thousand he'd ever earned.\n\n*\n\nMackenzie was at his desk when Em burst into his office.\n\n\"Mac! I'm sorry to interrupt, but this cable just came through from Walker in Cairo.\" She held out her copy of the message.\n\nHe scanned it quickly. This could be serious with tension so high in the area. Walker reported loss of contact with one of their rigs operating in the Gulf of Suez. Walker as Chief Mid East Operations Manager was doing his job. Thanks to Walker's diligence in checking the safety of their rigs in that part of the world, the home office was always on top of things.\n\n\"I'd like to talk to Walker,\" he told Em. \"If it's just a communication problem with Well Wedger 4, no big deal, but I need to know right away. Try to reach him, no matter if it takes all day.\"\n\n\"Right. Anything else?\"\n\nHe thought for a moment. \"No, not until I talk to Walker.\"\n\n\"You're not going to Cairo?\" She gave him a worried look.\n\n\"I'm not planning on it yet. But even if I do, Egypt should maintain its neutral position. I wouldn't voluntarily put myself in the middle of a fight.\" As if that wasn't what my life here amounted to.\n\n\"See that you don't,\" she said, with mock sternness, and left the room.\n\nWalker's call came through late afternoon, but he'd heard nothing from Well Wedger 4.\n\n\"I think a surveillance plane, don't you?\" Mackenzie suggested. \"I want to know about it as soon as they sight the rig. If the rig has been attacked, call or wire me immediately.\"\n\nWalker agreed. The time difference complicated communication between Cairo and Houston, but Mackenzie thought he should hear something within twelve hours.\n\nHe mused about this region where the company's rigs suddenly seemed vulnerable. It could prove to be a difficult time for any American company out there. The U. S. government was not going to get stirred up over random acts of violence against an American drilling company, though, and risk a confrontation; Gravely and Fox would be on its own.\n\nFurthermore, Teléah would have no chance to be smuggled into her country, using one of their rigs as a jumping off place. A good deal for him; he'd not been quite ready to bid her goodbye. Not for the first time, he tried to squelch the temptation to think about her, but always at the back of his thoughts was his readiness to deepen their relationship on any terms for any length of time. He'd entertained plenty of thoughts about taking her to bed, but she'd given him no encouragement. Nonetheless, despite his interest in having her remain in the vicinity, he knew she'd be heartbroken if she couldn't immediately return to her homeland.\n\nHe clenched his fists. Damn! This threat was so stupid, so uncivilized! Everything turned upside down just because people couldn't live and let live. He could never acquiesce to Fowler's notion that Israel had to accept its victim status and give up the fight. He wondered what this Chaim Ben Hoshen, Teléah's friend, could tell him about the conditions in Israel. He'd know Thursday if the diplomats had gotten word ahead of Fowler's sources. He wondered if the Arabs had moderated their view as to its destruction. Made any concessions. Probably not.\n\n10\n\nTeléah had refused his offer to drive her to the Consulate. She was having dinner with Chaim. They should be back by 9:00. Could he meet them there? The guard would be alerted to admit him since it would be after hours.\n\nHe agreed and hung up the phone, chagrined at her response to his offer. Again he had to put down possessive feelings about her that kept muscling their way in. Just a dinner party at Fowler's, for God's sake, which wasn't, strictly speaking, a date. It had been not been any more personal than one of their meetings at the university.\n\nBut he had more important things to do than to pine after a woman he knew so slightly and was soon to part from. In fact, it might be better all around if he kept a discreet distance from her, not just because of the futility of hoping for something more, but in the interests of their safety.\n\nHe set off in plenty of time Thursday evening to circumvent anyone who might be following him, feeling like a stock character in a spy film as he maneuvered the car through a parking garage, up two levels, and then to the exit where he paid the minimum, leaving a block away from where he entered the garage. He looked in the rear view mirror; no one had pulled out from the garage immediately after him. That might have done the trick if he really had watch dogs on his tail. His car was noticeable, however; he chided himself for not taking Rick's Monza, which was installed for the duration of the European trip in Mackenzie's garage at the condo.\n\n*\n\nAlso Thursday evening, another resident of one of the many condos in the Galleria area, Jeremy Willis, was just leaving his own place. He saw the silver Mercedes sports coupe ahead of him and got a glimpse of the driver. Mac! He hadn't seemed to notice him. But his black Volvo looked like hundreds of other cars. He was several car lengths behind as he continued to drive toward the office.\n\nIn front of him he saw Mac take off down the street, while he had to sit for a traffic signal. He wondered if Mac had a date. Women seemed to like him. Even his Kay acted silly when Mac was around. Jeremy drove off, taking his time and watching the traffic. Then, amazingly, Mac swung out from a side street directly ahead of him.\n\nWithout a clear thought except the desire to get something solid against his competitor, Jeremy kept up with the easy-to-follow car. When it turned into the drive of the Israeli Consulate, Jeremy sailed on past, flabbergasted. What on earth could Mac be doing with the Israelis at this time of night? Sometimes the firm had to negotiate drilling contracts through the different legations, mainly Mid Eastern countries, but normally during business hours. Sunday then, he would have something interesting to report to Davros.\n\n*\n\nHis arrival at the Consulate gates seemed to have gone unnoticed, Mackenzie thought, with a backward glance for lurking cars. A few were driving past, but as far as he could tell, no special one had followed him. After being admitted through the gates, he parked his car and ran up the front steps. He rang another bell and gained entrance to the Consulate. After signing the register but before he could look around, the aide motioned him toward a short hallway and showed him into Chaim Ben Hoshen's office. Chaim and Teléah smiled warmly at him and rose to their feet when he entered. Teléah introduced the two men to one another.\n\nChaim kept his hand after a brief shake and led him to a comfortable leather chair. \"Please, sit, my friend. A drink?\"\n\nAs he mixed the drinks, Chaim kept up a patter of amenities that went on far longer than any introduction to a meeting Mackenzie had ever attended. Inquiries about his son and his schooling, his travels in Europe, Mackenzie's own travels, his business. Mackenzie in turn admired the art work, spoke of his pleasure in meeting Teléah this year, \"My first Israeli friend.\"\n\n\"Not your last, we hope,\" said Chaim genially. He was utterly different from the professional men Mackenzie knew--urbane in his manner, continental in his dress. Smooth, yes, but a physical type for all that, Chaim exuded a kind of animal presence. Yet here was no rough sabra, belligerent and defensive. But then, he was a diplomat.\n\n\"Do you, too, have family in Israel?\" Mackenzie inquired.\n\nHe wagged his head in regret. \"Alas, I'm alone. My parents both died several years ago. My only brother was killed in the war in '67.\"\n\n\"Sorry to hear that. Did you serve?\"\n\nChaim nodded. \"Of course. But I was lucky; my brother was not.\" He had brought his desk chair into a grouping around the fireplace with Mackenzie and Teléah.\n\n\"Now, I would be grateful to know what from your perspective is happening with the oil supply. Is the U. S. keeping ahead of the reduction from OPEC?\"\n\n\"Barely. We--our company--has expanded to deeper drilling. The companies we contract with have agreed that's the best option for now. No one seems to think we could hold out long if an embargo is effected, however. We still have too much dependence on Mid Eastern oil.\"\n\nChaim made a face. \"That's what I keep hearing. Somehow, we all have been hoping for a miracle, an unexpected vast reserve opening up.\"\n\nMackenzie shot Teléah a glance. Had she told Chaim about the Moho? But she shook her head. Chaim looked at both of them, frank curiosity in his face.\n\n\"What goes on? Have I said something I shouldn't have?\"\n\nMackenzie laughed. \"No, I'm sorry. Your wish for a miracle was so on target I couldn't help but wonder about it. Teléah knows, but I didn't think she'd tell you about it before I did.\"\n\n\"Tell me what?\"\n\n\"Chaim,\" said Teléah gently, \"you must be patient and listen to an incredible story. Mackenzie is hoping you can help.\" She was wearing a cream silk blouse and beige slacks this evening. With her legs crossed, the sleek and shapely line of her hips was shown to great advantage, Mackenzie couldn't help but note.\n\nThe diplomat was instantly alert. \"I will do what you want, listen at the least and help if I can.\"\n\n\"No bugs or recording devices?\" Mackenzie asked, looking around him.\n\n\"Absolutely not! We are a paranoid people, true, and with good reason, but our confidences here are sacrosanct. This is, remember, a piece of Israeli soil.\"\n\nMackenzie began what he thought of as the tale of shame, aware of the irony of keeping it under wraps for thirteen years and now telling two foreigners, virtual strangers, about it within two weeks. The story seemed more convoluted this time with both Chaim and Teléah interrupting him to clarify details. As he concluded, informing them of the phone call received by Tricia, Teléah gasped.\n\n\"I knew it could get dangerous, Mackenzie,\" she said with concern. \"I hope no one saw you tonight and followed you here. They might get very excited about your connection to the Israeli Consulate.\"\n\n\"I took precautions, and I don't think I was, but I'm just an amateur at this game.\"\n\n\"Game,\" said Chaim, musing. \"It is a game as I told you, Teléah. And you, Mackenzie Haber, are holding the trumps. Do I understand you don't know how to play your cards?\"\n\n\"No. That's why I came here. I have nowhere else to go. I can't go to any official of my government. An investigation would prove fatal to the honor and prestige of my company. Not to mention the fallout on me and the other conspirators and, most importantly, my country. But I can't sit on this knowledge and let Israel slide into the arms of the Arabs.\"\n\n\"A most terrifying embrace,\" Teléah murmured.\n\n\"I can see you've thought about this a great deal, Mackenzie--I may call you that? Please call me Chaim.\" He gave Mackenzie a smile, but his eyes were serious. \"So you have no ideas at all about how to release the information while protecting your reputation and the reputation of the United States.\"\n\n\"None, I'm afraid.\"\n\n\"What about simply finding a likely place where you have an active well and just go deeper, go to the Moho? You could then claim discovery. Or at the least, provide an endless supply of oil for the West.\" Chaim still looked unruffled, as if their conversation was merely a preliminary negotiation between friendly powers.\n\nMackenzie stifled a sigh. It was hard explaining to those without basic knowledge. He would have to make clear that any drilling to the Moho would have to take place at least a mile down to the ocean floor where the crust's the thinnest. Geologists, he told Chaim, could land drill to nearly 24,000 feet now, but that would be miles above the discontinuity. He went through the difficulties step by step, watching Chaim's face. Impassive. An ocean-going project would be so complicated and expensive that it would take the combined efforts of thousands of people just to get it in place, which could hardly go unnoticed. Fifteen years ago when the project was funded, Project Moho cost over eighty million. With today's inflated prices the cost alone would call attention to the drilling even if he could get others to go along with it.\n\nChaim nodded but still seemed unconvinced. Mackenzie felt a wry amusement in spite of himself. God knows he himself had spent endless hours turning the situation around in his head hoping for the right solution to emerge. Chaim, like Teléah, wouldn't find it so easy either.\n\n\"And even if Mackenzie went over his boss's head,\" Teléah added, \"he'd still have to have some proof for his backers to go deeper than usual. How could he secure support without records indicating the presence of hydrocarbons?\"\n\n\"I see,\" Chaim said thoughtfully.\n\n\"And that's not all, Chaim,\" Teléah continued anxiously. \"A man that works for Mackenzie was killed last week in a mysterious accident at a drilling site in West Texas. It might be murder. Right, Mackenzie?\" At his nod, she went on, \"This man had been present on the original expedition, and Mackenzie hoped to use him as a material witness. Mackenzie himself could be in grave danger.\"\nMackenzie brought up his fears that Leo's death looked more and more suspicious, and his ex-wife's mysterious call appeared to have ominous origins. \"The Hegira keeps coming up. Have you heard of any such group?\"\n\nChaim made a negative gesture. \"But I may not have the latest information. These terrorists spring up and operate for a while, then die back and another more active or ruthless group takes over. The Hegira? Means flight to safety, usually. Of course it could be symbolic for rising Islam of the radical variety.\" He went over to his desk and removed some photos from a drawer.\n\n\"Take a look at these men, Mackenzie. They are all associated with a fanatic Islamic sect. This man here,\" he went on, pointing to a picture that showed a man from a distance of ten or so feet, \"is newly arrived in Houston but no stranger. He has studied in New York. Keep an eye out for him; he has an excellent command of English, a perfect disguise for espionage and worse.\"\n\nMackenzie examined the pictures closely, especially the one noted. He saw a man with heavy features, a typical Arabic face. \"But it makes no sense for an Islamic group to be pursuing me and killing others over this. They surely don't know about the discovery.\"\n\n\"Why not?\" Teléah said. \"They could have had someone undercover on the expedition and were witnesses to the discovery.\"\n\nBut Mackenzie objected to that possibility because of the extreme security of the project. \"Whoever it may be, and however they got their information, I feel hunted. I'm going crazy trying to work through all the new developments at my work while constantly at odds with myself about what to do about the Moho. Now I feel I have to watch my back at the same time.\n\nTeléah looked hopefully at Chaim. \"You see? The difficulties are endless.\"\n\nChaim frowned. \"This bears thinking about. I can't give a facile answer to a complex problem. A great deal hangs on how this is handled. It requires all of us to ponder on it hard,\" he tapped his head sharply, \"and find a solution. And find some proof that would be convincing. Not that I don't believe you,\" he added hastily, \"but for the world to accept such a fantastic story, it must be absolutely without a blemish of doubt. The scientists themselves would, I presume, scoff at such a notion.\"\n\n\"I've learned something recently that may offer hope to getting proof,\" Mackenzie said. \"There's a copy of the original wireline tape. This copy could give us the scientific data.\"\n\n\"But this is wonderful!\" Teléah exclaimed. \"Where is it?\"\n\nWithout naming names, Mackenzie told of his being in line to eventually take possession of the document. Not an immediate possibility, however, and he had no idea where it might be located.\n\n\"Fowler?\" asked Teléah.\n\nMackenzie nodded. He couldn't help feeling like a stool pigeon, a fink, even with his better understanding of Fowler's character. He must keep focused on his mission.\n\n\"Would he have it in a bank safety deposit box?\" asked Chaim.\n\n\"I doubt it. He'd want no one to see it, to stumble on what it actually is. A lawyer might have to get into his bank box.\" He thought for a moment. \"But he does have small vault at the company, virtually his own private one. I don't know what he keeps in it, other than a few business documents, maybe some cash and valuable personal items. Unfortunately, I haven't yet been given the combination, but maybe I could arrange to get it without Fowler knowing.\"\n\nChaim nodded. \"That would be a start. Get in the vault and see what you can find. Don't, however, take anything away if you find the tape. Not yet, not until we know what to do with it. It's important that no one be alerted to your activities.\"\n\n\"I understand.\"\n\n\"And if you need to confer with me about anything, anything at all, call me at either of these numbers. This one will reach my apartment.\" He scribbled the numbers on a piece of paper torn from a small tablet.\n\nMackenzie tucked it in his wallet, thanking both Chaim and Teléah for their help. He was surprised to see that it was past midnight. He apologized for keeping them so late; the two Israelis looked at each other and laughed. Chaim approached him and reached up to clasp his shoulders.\n\n\"You have presented us, Mackenzie, with a prize potentially so fabulous we should be bowing down to you. Don't apologize for anything. Let me shake your hand for your honesty and frankness and trust.\"\n\nThese Mediterranean types, thought Mackenzie on the way to his car, and their elaborate speech. He had been embarrassed by Chaim's words, but it was nice to reflect on the look that had come over Teléah's face when they had parted, something between admiration and sympathy.\n\nHe was still troubled by the unknown Hegira. Could a newly formed Arab delegation of terrorists be stalking him and the others? Maybe it was true that they had somehow found out about the Moho and were determined to keep news of the discovery from surfacing during the embargo negotiations. Mackenzie had no illusions about the desperate measures fanatics could and would resort to.\n\n*\n\nTeléah prepared to leave the Consulate following Mackenzie's departure, but Chaim held her back. \"Give it a few minutes. You must be prudent now,\" he cautioned. He led her to a row of straight chairs for visitors in the entry hall, which was veiled in darkness except for an occasional lighted wall sconce. They were alone. Teléah leaned her head against the heavily carved back of the chair. It was hard and uncomfortable, but she was too tired to care.\n\n\"What a man!\" Chaim exclaimed as they settled themselves. \"How very American he is.\"\n\n\"What does that mean?\"\n\nChaim shrugged. \"I mean his open face, his trusting nature. Are they fools or not, I always ask myself. It's like taking candy from a baby.\"\n\nTeléah sat up. \"I don't like the sound of that. You surely mean to help him? You won't disclose any of his information until a plan is worked out? He does trust you.\"\n\n\"We don't have much time, Teléah, and I'm afraid there's only one possible course, provided he gets hold of the tape. We'll have to let our government break the story . . .\" He frowned. \"That will, of course, put us in the bad with the United States for the time being. We'd be discrediting it for the earlier Administration's conspiracy and perhaps its ongoing collusion. That is bad diplomacy. In fact, we can't afford to alienate the United States.\" He paused. \"I think I see the problem Mackenzie is facing.\"\n\n\"Yes, that's exactly what he's trying to avoid. He has a great deal at stake, too.\" She touched his arm. \"You seemed to support him, though.\"\n\n\"Oh, I do. If he is on the level. But I don't want us to be dupes, pulled into a plot that has no conclusion--or the wrong conclusion. I'd like to know why he's so eager to help us. What's he getting out of all this? It's not natural to put oneself in harm's way. After all, the so-called conspiracy remains intact. He has nothing to fear if he keeps his mouth shut. Why then, is he so willing to jeopardize everything for the sake of an insignificant country like Israel that means nothing to him?\"\n\nTeléah made an impatient gesture with her hand. \"You really don't understand him, do you? Yes, he's safe, but he knows he'd done wrong in being part of that conspiracy, no matter what pressure had been brought to bear.\" She gave a soft laugh. \"'Righteousness shall be the belt around his waist, and faithfulness the belt around his loins.'\"\n\n\"What's that? Something from Isaiah if memory serves.\"\n\n\"Of course. You should know. We were thoroughly schooled. We have before us a man with a conscience. He wants to do right. Even though he seems to have prospered since the original expedition, the past has been eating away at him. He must offer himself as retribution in order to save himself.\"\n\n\"So, in a word, he's also motivated by guilt.\"\n\n\"Guilt, I suppose. But something more, too. Surely you remember what it is to have a cause larger than self.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" Chaim admitted, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.\n\n\"That should tell you he's exactly what he seems--honorable, upright, and courageous. I know him, and I believe he really wants to do the right thing.\"\n\nChaim raised his eyebrow at her. \"Oh, a paragon. And it doesn't hurt that he's tall and immoderately handsome, I suppose. And a successful man of enterprise. Everything that I am not.\"\n\n\"That is absurd to suggest. You treat me as if I'm longing for another man. Why do you tease me this way?\"\n\nHe laughed at her expression. \"Because you rise so charmingly to the bait.\"\n\n\"I have no interest in him except as a fellow human being trying to rectify a wrong and gain peace of mind. I admire him, of course, for his position on this, but throw off that jealous mantle. It doesn't become you.\"\n\nHe shrugged again and said, \"I'll take your word for it, even though I think you're fooling yourself. Well, we should know within the week if he's able to come up with the location of the copy. Meanwhile, maybe we can help him formulate a plan. Somehow we must release the information without bringing disaster on him and all concerned. Also, I'll check some more on the mysterious Hegira and see if we have any information on it or any other suspicious Arabs who are in Houston.\"\n\n11\n\nEmily Bainbridge sat at her desk, one ear cocked for Mac's arrival. She had been busy typing a report he'd handed her the last thing on Friday, and she prided herself on her quick response to his requests, his needs, spoken or unspoken.\n\nHe was the best boss in the world. He worked her hard, always had, serious when it came to his job and the company's business. But he had a wonderful disposition, considerate always and cheerful for the most part, except when a problem was pressing on him. Even then, he didn't snap at her the way Fowler did Nora. And poor Kay with that snide Jeremy to contend with! Em thanked her lucky stars she had landed in Mackenzie's office so many years ago.\n\nBut she knew her feelings went beyond mere appreciation for his management qualities. She supposed she was in love with him. Had been from nearly the beginning when he was a married man. After the divorce, she had wondered if she had a chance, but his interest in her was strictly professional. It didn't matter; she was able to derive painful pleasure from her daily association with him as his oh-so-proper secretary. Her goal was never to cause him to complain about her. In fact, she'd thought it would be wonderful to make some noble sacrifice for him. He wouldn't know, of course, until after she was gone how deeply attached she'd been, how single minded her devotion. She smiled when she thought such fanciful things.\n\n*\n\nMackenzie was grateful that the company's business had escalated and required so much of his attention, at least on the surface of his mind. It kept his thoughts from turning constantly to his problem. On the other hand, he believed that if he could only have a while to think everything through, a plan might come to him. Now Chaim Ben Hoshen was thinking about it too. That was reassuring.\n\nFor now, on this bright and hot Monday morning, taking a breather from the taxing responsibilities of his work, he emptied his mind of business affairs so he could plot his course. Verify his suspicion that Fowler had stored the tape in his vault upstairs. But how could he gain entry without alerting Fowler? He had pondered his problem over the weekend and had decided that most likely, Nora had the combination. But if he asked her for it, she'd be quick to mention his interest to Fowler. She was nothing if not loyal to her boss.\n\nHe called for Em to come in. He hadn't wanted to involve her, but this was something she could probably do better than he.\n\nAnd she too was loyal to her boss.\n\n\"Sit down, Em, I want to talk to you a minute.\" God, this was hard.\n\n\"Sure, Mac, what's up?\" She had her note pad at the ready, positioned on one crossed knee carefully covered by her skirt.\n\nHe stood up and began to pace. \"I need your help in getting into the vault upstairs.\"\n\n\"But you--\"\n\nHe stopped her. \"I know I could get it, but I don't want Fowler to know I want in there. This sounds peculiar, I know. I can't even tell you what it's about, but it's vitally important that I take a look around that vault for something. Don't worry, you won't be party to a robbery.\" Not yet, anyhow.\n\nThey both smiled, and then Em said, \"What can I do to help, Mac? It doesn't bother me a bit putting one over on Fowler. If you must know, I don't like him much with his barking out orders. He expects everyone to bend to his will like we were his slaves. He treats Nora like she's his geisha rather than a secretary. I shouldn't be surprised to find her kneading his back with her bare feet.\"\n\nMackenzie gave her a weak smile.\n\n\"The fact is, Em, I need to get the combination to the vault. I doubt if the lock's on a timer, but only Fowler has access to it. I suppose he uses it mainly for personal items, jewelry, paintings, collectibles. He probably has some company cash reserves there, too. In the old days, keeping cash for deals was obligatory. He may also have something else there that involves me. That's what I'm interested in. In a sense, it's my property too. And I must get a look at it.\"\n\n\"You want me to get the combination.\" She reflected, tapping her cheek with the eraser end of her pencil.\n\n\"I don't have any suggestions, either. It's a problem. I wonder where Nora keeps the combination? In her desk?\" He had considered pilfering it.\n\nEm said firmly. \"In her file. I remember now. I got it from her once.\"\n\n\"You did?\"\n\n\"Yes. One time, years ago, you handed me some cash after you got back from a trip and told me to deposit it. It was late in the day, as I recall, and I couldn't get to the bank. I went in to see Nora about it, and she said I could leave it in the vault overnight or over the weekend, I forget which. She went to her file and handed me the combination.\"\n\n\"Wow. A breach of security. Wouldn't Fowler be pissed.\"\n\n\"I could try it again. Got any cash?\" She grinned at him.\n\n\"We'll just get some.\" He rummaged in his wallet and took out the bills. They added up to a little over one hundred dollars. \"Need more than this.\"\n\n\"I'll cut up some paper instead of using your money. It'll make a nice bundle. I'll seal it in a brown envelope, and she'll never be the wiser.\"\n\n\"Terrific, Em.\"\n\n\"I have to warn you that she may want to take it up herself. I'll try to pick a time when she's busy cleaning out her desk or writing thank you notes. She won't like being interrupted.\"\n\n\"I'll leave the timing to you. You're a peach.\"\n\n\"Just doing my little job.\" She turned to him on her way to the door. \"You should know I'd do anything for you, Mac.\" She left the room hurriedly.\n\nHe stared at the door she had closed behind her, discomfited. There it was again. She had personal feelings for him. His appreciation of her had been for her many good secretarial qualities. He felt like a heel, using her in this way, but the matter was too important for quibbling over scruples. He'd try to square it with her later, after the Moho question was settled.\n\nMackenzie had been prepared to stay late and visit the vault after everyone had left. But whenever he checked with Em about seeing Nora, she only said, \"Not yet. I'll let you know.\" Finally, at 4:30, she stepped into his office and said, \"I'm sorry, Mac. I couldn't find the moment today. She wasn't the least busy, drinking coffee and making hair and nail appointments for herself and Fowler. You know, a catch-up kind of day. She would have jumped at the chance for a trip to the vault. Maybe tomorrow. If she's in the middle of a project, no matter how trivial it is, she hates to stop.\"\n\n\"I'll leave it to your judgment. Let's hope Fowler hands her something to do tomorrow.\"\n\nThe following day it was near 2:30 before Em popped into his office after a sharp rap on the door. She was brandishing a slip of paper. \"Got it!\"\n\n\"The combination? Wonderful.\" He could have hugged her, but that would be unwise. \"Have any trouble?\"\n\n\"Not at all. I saw her in there with a stack of envelopes a mile high. Fowler's planning a reception.\" She smiled at him. \"I hear it's to announce his retirement and his successor.\" She gave him a pleased grin.\n\n\"Ah, yes. The board meeting is Thursday. That's when the matter becomes official.\"\n\n\"Here it is,\" she said, handing him the paper along with the envelope. \"Use it in good health.\"\n\n\"Did she copy it out or give you her own copy?\"\n\n\"She copied it out.\"\n\n\"Good. You don't need to mention to her anything else about the so-called money--whether it's still in the vault or you retrieved it right away. If she asks later, you can say you got it out for me the next day.\"\n\n\"Right on.\" She saluted.\n\nAfter she left, Mackenzie studied the combination to the safe and committed it to memory. He'd give the scrap of paper back to her to dispose of or not as she saw fit.\n\nBut he still had an afternoon of work ahead of him. And besides, he wouldn't attempt to enter the vault until everyone had gone for the day. He concentrated on his work problems. Em interrupted him with a fax from Cairo. Walker had established communication with Well Wedger 4, so that emergency was over. He hesitated while she was waiting for instructions.\n\n\"Send a message back to Walker thanking him for his diligence. Advise him to put all the field managers on alert, that the Mid East could heat up even more.\" Now, though, with their rigs apparently secure, Teléah's trip home would be more likely.\n\nPhone call followed phone call until he looked up to find Em standing in the half opened door.\n\n\"Anything else before I leave? Do you need me to stay on?\"\n\nHe looked at his watch. \"Five already? No, you go on home. Thanks a million, Em. You've been a great help today.\"\n\n\"Not at all, Mac.\" He heard her humming a tune as she closed the door.\n\nHe planned to work on for another hour or so and then check the place for hangers-on. By 6:30 surely everyone would have left, except perhaps some drudges in accounting, but they were isolated from the vault area even though they were on the same floor. Of course, Willis's office was on the floor above, too. Mackenzie hoped he had no thought of working late.\n\nBut after a cursory tour of the hallway on his floor and the floor above at 6:15, he found the place to be empty. Lucky. The vault was located at the end of a short hall that led to a storage room. The door to the room that contained the vault opened with a turn of Mackenzie's pass key. Fowler had arranged for all the vice presidents to have master keys that would take them into all areas except the executive suites.\n\nHe closed the door behind him and fumbled for the light switch. Before him stood the steel door to the walk-in vault.\n\nMackenzie studied the figures in his notebook, memorized them, and began to finger the lock. The handle turned at the first try, and he swung open the door. Inside, from the ceiling, a cord extended, which when pulled brightly illuminated the interior. Shelves ran along both sides, leaving a scant four feet in the middle to move around. Mackenzie's eyes roved along the shelves looking for something that could contain the tape. It would be about the size of the big geology textbook he had used in school. The accordion pleated tape might be easily overlooked if Fowler had sealed it in a large envelope and tucked the package among the pictures and other valuables that lay on the shelves.\n\nHis eyes swept from the left hand shelves toward the back and halted. He began to sweat. There, positioned to one side of the end wall, on the floor but partially hidden under an overhanging shelf, was a familiar looking receptacle. A small metal chest, brindled with rust from a year at sea; stenciled on top was the name Neptune Challenger. What a clever fellow was Fowler. If his story was true about leaving the tape for Mackenzie, how better to secure its secret from other prying eyes than to leave the chest to him and, of course, its contents.\n\nMackenzie knelt beside it and pulled at its handle. Locked. He groaned. So he still didn't know for sure. Fowler obviously kept the key, maybe on his person. Suddenly, he felt defeated by the man. He was the stronger and smarter. He would always win.\n\nBut driving home his depression didn't last. He was too close now for Fowler to get the best of him. He still had to fight off qualms when he contemplated what he was about to do. The decision had already been made. Fowler's position was wrong and that was that.\n\nInstead, he would compound his perfidy by arranging to get a copy of the key. Mackenzie had used the chest repeatedly when working on the drill ship. Further, he'd observed the lock when he saw it today. He must make the opportunity to get Fowler's keys from him for a short period of time and, if it was found, get the key to the chest duplicated. A locksmith was down the block, so that could be handled. He laughed at himself, planning dangerous pursuits as calmly as he would plan a trip to a drilling site. He sighed. Deceit came in many forms. Did the end justify the means? He hoped so.\n\nHe would take whatever opportunity he could find to get Fowler's keys. No question that Fowler would carry on his person the key to the chest. But sometimes, Fowler must be parted from his keys. Where, besides his home, would that be?\n\nMackenzie swung into the drive of his condo. He thought about Fowler's activities, his usual routine. Sometimes he took a shower at work if he was going directly to a business dinner. But when might that happen? And how could he get hold of the key ring while Fowler was in the shower? Hope the steam would disguise his presence in the bathroom? Not a good possibility.\n\nEvery Wednesday, though, Fowler played a bruising game of handball at his downtown athletic club during the noon hour. Mackenzie was also a member and occasionally took up Fowler's offer to play. Usually, though, Mackenzie preferred to work out on his own before arriving at the office. Tomorrow, he would play handball, if Fowler kept to his usual schedule, God willing. Mackenzie would plan for it anyhow. Again, he'd have to use Em as his partner in crime. What a bonus he would owe her!\n\nHe phoned Fowler the next morning soon after he heard him arrive. \"Are you needing a partner for handball today?\"\n\n\"You bet! Wanna come?\"\n\n\"I think I could use it as a stress reliever. I've had my nose to the grindstone ever since the crisis developed.\"\n\n\"Good boy. Just what you need, believe me. We'll give you a workout. We'll leave here at 11:15. Have lunch later.\"\n\n\"Look forward to it. Who's we?\"\n\n\"Jeremy'll be there, too. Make a good three-handed game.\"\n\n\"Oh, good.\" Not good. But he'd simply have to work around Jeremy's prying eyes.\n\nThat morning, he and Em had another furtive conference in his office. \"Have you got the plan down pat? I'll expect you at--\"\n\n\"--no later than 12:30. First, you'll get hold of the key chain at the athletic club,\" she continued, consulting her note pad, \"at approximately twelve o'clock, remove the key to the chest, and take it in an envelope to the front desk. I'll come over in a cab--I'll leave at 11:45--pick up the envelope at the desk, go to the locksmith, and have it duplicated while the cab is waiting. Shouldn't take more than fifteen minutes. I'll call the locksmith to reserve the time, if possible. Then I'll return the key in the envelope to the athletic club by 12:30, I hope, where you pick it up and somehow manage to get it back on Fowler's key ring without his noticing.\" She bit her lip. \"My part's easy, but how are you going to manage all that and play handball?\"\n\nHe grinned. \"I've thought of that. A glove.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"My strap will just happen to be worn out, and I expect it will break during the game. Willis being along is heaven sent after all. He'll keep Fowler entertained while I rifle his pants pockets for his keys in the locker room.\"\n\n\"Don't they have an attendant?\"\n\n\"Sure, but if need be I'll make an excuse to get into Fowler's locker. If I'm noticed, I'll think of something, getting his handkerchief for him, for instance. Sounds believable, doesn't it?\"\n\n\"It does to me.\" She gave him a slow smile, calm as always, but her eyes were sparkling; she looked prettier than usual. \"Gosh, I hope the key is there!\"\n\n\"And I hope I recognize it. If he happens to have two of them for similar locks, I'll just have to take them both.\"\n\nThey stood up at the same time. Mackenzie held out his hand and clasped hers. \"Let's do it, partner.\"\n\nShe giggled and shook his hand, seemingly undaunted.\n\n12\n\nMackenzie had never really liked all the mirrors that the club featured. Who but the manager with his sculptured body wanted to be confronted in every direction with images of his own body? The typical physique of most members included well padded abs and sagging pecs. Mackenzie's thrice-weekly morning workouts had so far staved off the dumpling look, but he was always bothered by reflections of his progress from one room to another. Today, his image seemed to be skulking here and there.\n\nThe ruse with the glove had gone off without a hitch. Five minutes into the play, at precisely 11:50 by the clock on the wall, Mackenzie unobtrusively yanked at the strap and, leaving the court, yelled, \"Strap broke. I'll get another glove and be back in a minute.\"\n\nFowler was too engaged to do more than nod. He was already sweating profusely from the exertion, hunched in position to receive Jeremy's serve. Jeremy, accustomed to Fowler's relentless play, was battling for his life and ignored Mackenzie completely.\n\nIn the locker room, his worries about the attendant were groundless. He was talking a mile a minute with a member and paid no attention to Mackenzie's pawing through Fowler's clothes. He knew Fowler's keys were in his pocket. He had watched to see if he transferred anything from suit pants to gym shorts.\n\nThere they were. But was the right key on his ring? Yes, the key was distinctive. The key chain, however, gave him some trouble. It was a fancy gold thing from Tiffany's that looked like a drill bit. Finally, he discovered the secret and slipped the key off. He replaced the chain in Fowler's pocket, and fished out an envelope from his own coat pocket where he placed the key.\n\n\"Would you get me another glove, size 10,\" he called out to the attendant. \"I've broken the strap.\" The man hurried to the cabinet and picked out one to give to Mackenzie. If he noticed Mackenzie messing with Fowler's gear, he gave no indication.\n\nRunning to the front desk, Mackenzie saw Em and handed her the envelope. Her expression was serious as she dashed off. She should be back with Fowler's key in fifteen to twenty minutes if she was lucky--no traffic problems, immediate access to the locksmith. He watched her leave and then sprinted back to the court to resume play.\n\nAfter thirty more minutes, Fowler sank back against the wall. \"I've had enough,\" he puffed.\n\nMackenzie agreed and followed Fowler off the court. Em should have done her job by now.\n\nThey marched single file toward the locker room with Jeremy on Mackenzie's heels. This was the hard part. Veering toward the desk, he called back to Fowler, \"I need to check something on my statement. I'll join you in a minute.\" Be there. Please. He didn't have to ask the clerk for the envelope; he brought it out from behind the counter when he saw Mackenzie.\n\n\"She just brung it back.\"\n\n\"Good enough. Thank you.\" Now the locker room, quick. He dashed again through the small lobby and gift shop, arriving just as Fowler was disappearing into the showers. Jeremy was arguing with the attendant about his towel, wanting the large size he preferred. They had run out.\n\n\"Here, Jeremy, take mine,\" Mackenzie said, thrusting his towel at him. He had selected his own before going on to the court. Time was running out. Jeremy thanked him and left while Mac looked at the attendant, who handed him the smaller towel. The attendant settled onto his stool and resumed reading his paperback.\n\nAgain, he found the key ring, removed the key from the envelope, and placed it, he hoped, in the same position as he'd found it. Unfortunately, he'd not noticed which direction it faced. He put it on to match the direction of the keys on either side. If he guessed wrong, surely Fowler would never notice, at least not for some time. By then, it wouldn't matter.\n\nHe met Fowler coming out of the showers as he entered. Fowler shot him a disapproving look. \"We'll eat lunch here. Don't have much time, you know, so let's not conduct any more personal business.\"\n\n\"No, of course not.\" I've conducted all the personal business I need to for the moment. He was so pleased with the smoothness of the operation, he didn't even bridle at Fowler's patronizing instructions.\n\nOccasionally during lunch Mackenzie would think about what he'd done. No regrets, only an uneasy sense that he may have duplicated the wrong key. The lock was not unique. He wouldn't know until this evening when he planned to check the safe and report what he found to Chaim.\n\nThis evening, unlike the previous one, he was forced to wait until seven, having come upon a late working auditor on the floor above going to the rest room. Mackenzie nodded at him, walked down the hall, and then left through the fire stairs. Back on his own floor, he took a position just inside his office door. When he heard the elevator, he knew the auditor was leaving. For safety's sake, he walked up the stairs, a little longer route to the vault, but with no chance of being surprised by some other late leaving employee.\n\nInside the vault, he went immediately to the chest and with pounding heart, slid the key into the lock. It turned and the handle moved. At first glance, he thought the chest was completely empty, but then he saw the dark brown folder lying on the bottom of the chest. It was secured by a piece of string wrapped around a tab. He undid it with painful anticipation. His whole life seemed to be bound in the contents of this folder.\n\nThen he held it in his hands. The wireline log, safe and sound. He shook out the pleats to read the data. The graph extended to 24,132 feet where it ended in \"T.D.\" By itself, the total depth at that location would alert any geologist that the Moho had been reached. Heat, pressure, composition of the material in the hole were recorded indisputably. There was included in the envelope a written project report, prepared aboard the Challenger and dated and signed by Mackenzie, Leo, and Fowler. It verified the findings.\n\nCarefully, he placed everything back in the folder and the folder back in the chest the way he'd found it. He felt elated, justified. He could hardly wait to phone Chaim. He left the building with his head swimming. The threats almost forgotten, unimportant, compared to finding the log. But he couldn't take the records and and take a chance of alerting Fowler. The game would be up then for sure. So he would do as Fowler had done--copy it. Em could take him to the duplicating room and show him how to copy the tape on the Diazit machine.\n\nChaim's first words after Mackenzie identified himself were, \"Where are you calling from?\"\n\n\"Home. Is that all right?\" He'd wondered about his line being bugged, but dismissed such fears as overly dramatic.\n\n\"I think not after this. Did you find what you were seeking?\"\n\n\"Yes. I plan to make a copy of it tomorrow evening. Then we'll talk.\"\n\n\"Fine. Let's say at the same time as before but on Friday at my apartment.\" He gave him the address.\n\n\"I'll be there.\" They both hung up without another word, Mackenzie again fighting off a feeling of unreality. Was this happening to him, the most normal, unexciting sort of fellow? Or was it a dream? Maybe this is what happens when you lose your mind. He'd been working hard. He struggled up from his chair, tired beyond belief, and went to fetch a Scotch. Mustn't let the bad humors and vapors get to me, he thought with a weary sigh.\n\nTomorrow night, then, he would copy the materials and have them for Chaim on Friday. He carried his drink to the sofa and sank gratefully into its softness. Would Teléah be there, too? Maybe Chaim considered her merely the go-between to make the introduction. He wanted her there, though. She was important to this endeavor, too, a living, breathing testament to the need to carry on. More than that. In fact, any ambivalent feelings about her had vanished after the meeting in Chaim's office. He could admit it to himself now that she was more important to him than he'd believed could be possible again. But all that must be set aside. She was unavailable to him.\n\nThe doorbell rang. He started a bit, but then chided himself for nerves. Might be any innocuous visitor.\n\nHe saw through the peep hole two men dressed in business suits. Neither of them resembled any of the photos that Chaim has shown Mackenzie. One of the men, the taller of the two, was holding an I.D. card near his face. Mackenzie saw the seal of the United States Government. He opened the door.\n\n\"Mr. Haber?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"My name is Mr. Wilhoit. This is my associate, Mr. Smith. We'd like to talk to you if you don't mind.\"\n\n\"What's this all about?\"\n\n\"May we come in?\" The man looked up and down the corridor. \"It might be better if we spoke privately.\"\n\nMackenzie let them in and indicated two chairs across from the sofa. Mr. Smith, however, didn't sit down. He wandered around the room, looking at the pictures on the wall, fingering a Remington bronze, his other hand casually in his pants pocket. A gun? Mackenzie wondered, his scalp prickling.\n\n\"Mr. Haber. I'll get right to the point. We've been informed that a situation has arisen that involves national interests. We're concerned about a breach of security. Your name has come up, so we must talk about your position on the matter.\"\n\n\"What situation? I don't understand. I've not breached any security. How did you know to contact me?\"\n\nMr. Wilhoit touched his index finger and thumb together. \"Computers. They know everything and can flag us when there's any unusual activity around the world. From economic conditions to political unrest. Certain files are particularly sensitive to certain conditions. Any individuals who may be . . . \" he paused, \"considered security risks are contacted. Just to rest certain minds, you might say.\" He smiled, showing large yellow teeth.\n\n\"I see.\" He stood up and moved to the swing-out bar. \"Let me get you gentlemen a drink. Surely you won't have any more calls to make tonight?\" He held up a bottle of Scotch.\n\n\"Ah, no, thanks, Mr. Haber,\" said Wilhoit without a glance at the other man. \"Nothing for us now.\"\n\n\"Maybe you'd rather have some fruit juice? It's so warm out this evening.\"\n\nThe men looked at each other and nodded. \"Thank you. That sounds refreshing.\"\n\nMackenzie walked to the kitchen, thinking hard. There seemed to be something strange about these men. Were their suits of a different cut, the material unusual? Or was he paranoid, thinking Hegira. Their English, at least Wilhoit's English, was correct, maybe too correct. Mr. Smith hadn't said a word. And another thing, would a legitimate agent introduce himself and a colleague as Mr.? Maybe so. He had no experience with the breed. The I.D.'s looked genuine, but they could easily be faked. How would he know?\n\nHe poured out orange juice into two glasses. Accepting juice could be significant. No Moslem would drink anything alcoholic. On the other hand, maybe they didn't drink on the job. If they had wanted to kill him, they could have gunned him down immediately upon entering the place. They were either hoping to scare him or to find out something. They might be genuine.\n\n\"Here you are.\" he said, handing each a glass. \"Now what can I say to assure you that I'm no security risk? I have no wish to tamper with top secret files.\" He laughed. \"As a matter of fact, you must know I haven't had clearance for years. I couldn't get to any files even if I wanted to.\"\n\n\"Yes, that's true, Mr. Haber.\" Wilhoit took a long gulp of juice and wiped his lip with the napkin Mackenzie had provided. \"But for all we know, you might have come upon other, privately kept records or spoken out of turn.\"\n\n\"Do you know what the records are all about?\" Mackenzie felt he shouldn't have challenged them directly, but the cat-and-mouse game was beginning to wear on him.\n\n\"No, we don't,\" Wilhoit answered. Smith had still not sat down, but stood beside a window. \"That's not necessary. Our job is simply to assure those in command that you're sound.\"\n\n\"Sound?\" Mackenzie rose from his seat, his temper suddenly erupting. \"I'll show you sound. Get out of my house. This is still a free country, and I'll do or say what needs to be done or said without visits from the likes of you. I don't need you to remind me of my duty.\"\n\n\"Please sit down, Mr. Haber. Calm yourself. You apparently do need a reminder. You apparently made an agreement in good faith many years ago. We simply want to assure ourselves that you will abide by that agreement, won't try to poke around anymore, stirring up trouble.\"\n\nMackenzie had not seated himself again, so Wilhoit stood up. He glanced at Smith, who gave a short nod. \"I may as well tell you we have our suspicions you might be engaged in some illegal activities--all those trips abroad, the Mid East, Mexico. Very dangerous business getting mixed up with drugs.\"\n\n\"Drugs! What the hell are you talking about?\"\n\nWilhoit tipped his head speculatively. \"Nothing definitive, you understand, but some witnesses might be found who could help us with a court case against you. If you aren't sound. Could be very embarrassing, damaging professionally and personally, even if we don't prove our case. We seldom lose, however.\"\n\nMackenzie was speechless and could only stare at the man.\n\n\"Thanks for the delicious juice, Mr. Haber.\" Wilhoit walked toward the door and then stopped. \"One other thing. We're also concerned about your mental health. Perhaps you've been under a great strain and need psychiatric evaluation and counseling. We can arrange for you to go to one of our centers.\" He gave Mackenzie his yellow smile. \"We hope that won't be necessary, of course. But your own attitude and actions will give us the answer.\"\n\n\"My attitude and actions. Ah, yes. I understand. Goodnight, then.\" He clenched and unclenched his fists. Control. He would remain cool even while his face burned with anger.\n\nThey left. Mackenzie went to the window and eased back the curtain. He saw them get into a black car--nondescript, could have been Japanese, late model--and drive off.\n\nIf their intention had been to scare him, they had done well. Drugs. Court case. Witnesses. Mental health center. The message was clear enough. He'd be hounded until he was safely silenced. He paced the room nervously. To proceed or not? Then he stopped. In front of him was a gilded Federal mirror. His face looked back at him, a face that showed more determination than fear.\n\nHe would go ahead with his plans to copy the tape. He supposed he was obsessed, consumed by his need to get have a copy in his hands. He didn't want to be harassed; he wanted to live in peace, but how could he ever again live in peace after coming to this resolve? No, he would go forward to what end he knew not, despite the blocks, the threats, the test of nerves.\n\n13\n\nThe following morning, Mackenzie asked Em to show him the procedure for copying on the Diazit duplicator. She found a mud log in the files and walked with him down the corridor. The duplicating room was near the engineering area, and unoccupied. She showed him how to warm up the machine and set the proper dials. The graph paper would have to be fed in and carefully monitored, which, he acknowledged, would be a long process--copying data for 24,000 feet. Perhaps it would be safer to wait until long after hours, say 9:00 or 10:00. Then his only concern would be staying out of the way of the janitors.\n\n\"I'll make sure it has plenty of ammonia and paper before I leave tonight,\" Em said as they walked back to their office area. \"Are you sure you want to try this alone? I'd be happy to come back after hours and do it for you.\"\n\n\"Thanks, but no. I can handle it, and I'd rather not involve you any more than I have to.\" He looked at her and smiled. \"I promise you won't get into any trouble because of your help. Do you feel like an accomplice to a crime?\"\n\n\"I don't mind if I am, as long as it helps you, Mac.\"\n\nHe couldn't think of a response to that, so he gave her a smile and a pat on the shoulder and went into his office. The meeting with the two agents last night kept recurring. But he mustn't think of that. At least Fowler wouldn't be around to distract him. The regular board meeting was an all day, rather taxing event, according to Fowler. But Mackenzie knew, despite his complaints, Fowler thoroughly enjoyed the opportunity to employ his persuasive talents on those who served--mainly at Fowler's behest--on the board of directors. Sometimes Mackenzie had been invited to attend a portion of a meeting to report on special drilling activities or present operational plans. But not this meeting.\n\n\"I don't think it'd be a good idea, Mac,\" Fowler had said, almost apologetically, the day before. \"I'll be asking for their vote to appoint you president, so I'd better run this through myself.\"\n\nIt had been fine with Mackenzie to stay out of the limelight. He hadn't wanted the interruption of the meeting. Too many other things on his mind. It occurred to him he was reacting peculiarly to one of the more pivotal events in his life. This was to be the official sanction on his becoming the president of Gravely and Fox. The dream of his life, and yet he felt removed from it all. Detached. But then, detachment was maybe the only way to keep his grip on reality. Here he was, planning on burgling the private space of the man who was touting him as his heir to the throne.\n\nThat evening at home, he picked up his mail from the mail box in the foyer and looked it over. A post card from Rick. The south of France. Mediterranean. Having a great time. He smiled and stepped into the living room of his condo, glad his son at least seemed to be out of harm's way, despite Hegira's veiled threat. Tricia had been right to raise the alarm, but it sounded more like a bluff. He threw his mail onto a long table behind the sofa. Read it later. Now, a drink, and maybe a TV movie or mindless sitcom.\n\nHe was now officially the president-elect of Gravely and Fox. Funny. He didn't feel any different, even when Fowler had proudly given him the thumbs up back in the office after the meeting, promising they'd \"hash over the details\" later. He turned his mind away from Fowler and board meetings. Relax now. Think of nothing.\n\nBut the small package poking out from beneath magazines and circulars intrigued him. He turned it over. The return address was marked, \"Advance Engineering,\" located in a part of town he was not familiar with. He didn't know of that company, and besides, why would anyone be sending him something at his home rather than at work?\n\nHe hefted the package, about the size of a cigar box. It was of heavy cardboard, taped securely. His own name and address and that of the return were on computer labels. No business he knew of. He took out the Houston phone directory and looked up Advance Engineering. No such listing. He felt wary, again his scalp prickling. He wondered about a package bomb. Only one way to find out.\n\nHe went to his bedroom and changed into jeans, a dark polo shirt, and sneakers. He checked his key ring. Rick's car key was there, as was the key to the chest in the vault. He found his briefcase in the hall where he'd left it and emptied it. Now for the equipment he'd need.\n\nThe utility room had become a catch-all for tools, cleaning equipment and supplies, and anything else he couldn't find a place for. He rummaged in his tool box and retrieved an Exacto knife, a coil of twisted telephone wires, and a couple of fish hooks. In a cabinet, he found a small table vise. He got a map of Houston from the desk in his office and looked up the address on the package. He then folded up the map and put it along with everything else, including the package, in a plastic bag which went into his briefcase. The back service entrance. That would be the way to leave the condo. He grabbed an apple on his way through the kitchen. Have to make it do for dinner. He emerged near the garages and went to his own double stall where his Mercedes and Rick's Monza were kept.\n\nInside Rick's car, he found a billed cap which he put on. The windows had been tinted so dark it might not be necessary to try to disguise himself, however. Instead of leaving through the drive, he drove around the garage and proceeded slowly down the alley where usually only the garbage truck went. He stopped at the street and looked both directions. Traffic normal, no one lying in wait, including the black, Japanese-looking car. He headed west, munching the apple, consulting the map at stop signs.\n\nThe neighborhood he sought must once have had pretensions to become an industrial park but had failed miserably. Empty warehouses and small disused factories were intersected by an abandoned railroad spur and vacant lots. It looked as if developers had thought to build cheap apartments to try to make use of the site. Windows were broken out, the siding defaced by graffiti. If people were actually occupying them, they'd not be the sort to pay attention to a visitor. Mackenzie found the right street, but the street number was at the site of a deserted machine shop, little more than a shed. He could just make out the faded, stenciled sign which read, \"Duncan Tool and Die.\" His gut feeling had been right. The name and address on the package were phoney.\n\nNevertheless, this uninhabited location would suit his purpose as well as the countryside, where he had first planned to go. He parked the car behind the building and started exploring. The back door was locked, probably the front door, too. He noticed a window beside the back door was broken out. A simple matter to unhook the window and reach around to the door latch. Before letting himself in, he looked around outside, but he was alone in the back lot.\n\nBreaking and entering. He was compounding his crimes. Too far into it now to hesitate. He looked around the room for a suitable something to fasten the package to. A long workbench with rusting tools. That would work nicely. The room, cleared of its machinery, was virtually empty except for some packing crates and a broken step ladder.\n\nIt was short work to attach the package to the edge of the workbench with the vise. The box had a fold-over lid that was tucked into the bottom half. Mackenzie attached one end of the telephone wire to a strong fish hook and with nerve-wracking care, embedded the hook into the cardboard of the lid without puncturing the other side.\n\nHe unrolled the wire, backing up carefully until he passed through the doorway to the front room, the former office. He could shut the door between him and the bomb, if in fact that's what it was. This could be all for nothing, of course. He'd be merely a jittery burglar.\n\nFrom his position behind the door, he gave a hard yank on the wire. Nothing. He peered into the room and saw that the lid hadn't moved. He gave another tug without closing the door and the room beyond lit up as if struck by lightning. He seemed to see the light before he felt the concussion and heard the boom. Thank God he'd taken cover behind a stout, cement block wall. Waiting a few minutes for the smoke and rubble to clear, he entered the room to find it a shambles. The back door had been blown off its hinges. The wall that held the bench was gone. He didn't see the bench at all and didn't stop to look for it amid the smoking debris. The package would be burned up, his name obliterated.\n\nHe ran out the back to his car, speeding off before the police arrived to investigate, if anyone was within earshot to report it. He'd have to find out who owned that property and send them some money for damages. His hands on the wheel shook. Even his foot on the accelerator trembled, and he had trouble keeping a steady pressure.\n\nIt had come at last. He had never before felt so alone. Should he call Chaim again? Someone--Hegira?--Wilhoit and company?--was obviously through playing games. But if the so-called agents had arranged this, would they have come and seen him last night? Given him another chance when the bomb was already in the mail? Made no sense. Hegira then.\n\nHe drove blindly. The sky was darkening fast. He looked at the clock. Eight forty-nine. Air, he needed air. Not air conditioning. Must roll the window down. He could taste the acrid smoke in his mouth. At a stop light, he took a right turn and drove off quickly, the Monza jerking unevenly. His thoughts were multiplying in his head, filling up his brain with words that kept repeating themselves.\n\nWhat to do? The office. He had planned to go to the vault, but now what? He was a dead man. The lights of a small shopping center caught his attention, and he saw a phone booth. He swung off the highway and pulled into a parking slot.\n\nIn the lighted booth, he tried to calm himself, casting nervous looks around. Could he have been observed? Followed to the vacant machine shop? Might someone be watching him right now? But no one had followed him into the parking lot. He saw no nearby cars with suspicious-looking occupants, only a few that must have belonged to shoppers at a dingy-looking grocery store. With still shaking fingers, he took from his wallet the slip of paper with Chaim's number, deposited the coin, and dialed.\n\nChaim answered on the second ring. Mackenzie hesitated, unsure why he was calling.\n\n\"Hello? Hello?\" The voice was impatient.\n\n\"Chaim. Mac Haber.\" His tongue seemed to be sticking to the roof of his mouth.\n\n\"Where are you calling from?\"\n\n\"A phone booth. It's safe to talk.\"\n\n\"Go ahead. Have you found the material?\"\n\n\"Not yet. I've been exploding a package bomb.\"\n\n\"What! Are you serious?\"\n\nMackenzie gave a harsh laugh. \"Quite. I suspected it might be something like that from the return address. I took it to a vacant building and opened it--from a distance. I was right. Blew the hell out of the place.\"\n\n\"My God,\" breathed Chaim. \"No one saw you?\"\n\n\"No, I don't think so. It was a deserted area.\"\n\n\"So now what?\"\n\n\"I've got to decide what to do. I'd planned to copy the material tonight. I'm--confused, though. I don't know what I'm doing. Who's after me? The Hegira? Have you found out anything on them?\"\n\n\"Nothing yet. I can't understand it. We usually are promptly informed by our excellent intelligence department when new terrorist groups spring up. This must be a brand new one.\"\n\n\"And then last night I had a visit, a very civilized visit, from two men claiming to be from a government security agency.\"\n\n\"And they wanted. . . ?\" Chaim's voice was tense.\n\nAs Mackenzie recited the gist of the encounter, the implied threats, he again experienced a sense of reality. Was this happening to him?\n\n\"I wondered if they were for real. Could they have been?\"\n\n\"They may have been genuine government men. It sounds like their tactics to gain control. You did expect to be contacted by their watch dogs, didn't you?\" Chaim's voice softened. \"Say, old man, you're not weakening now, are you?\"\n\n\"I don't know. I'm scared, and I'm still not sure about how to proceed. If I get hold of a copy of the wireline tape, and I'm able to disclose the information, what then? Have you come up with any good ideas?\"\n\n\"We'll talk about that when we get together. Don't falter now when you're so close. At least get the copy so you'll have something to go with. Do you want me to meet you at your office, help you?\"\n\n\"No. That would be dangerous for both of us. By myself, I could make an excuse to be there this late if I'm discovered. You'd be a problem if anyone saw us together.\"\n\n\"You're right, of course. Continue as you have been, Mac. You've handled it well so far. We'll plan to see you tomorrow night at my apartment. Call me again if you have a problem.\"\n\nMackenzie hung up and leaned his head against the phone. In the heat and stuffiness of the booth he felt clammy cold. He hoped he hadn't sounded panicky. Unsure, yes. Because he was unsure.\n\nHe pulled out onto the highway and continued in the same direction. He seemed to be on some county highway; he didn't know where he was going, and perhaps for the first time in his life he didn't care. Lights from on-coming traffic hurt his irritated eyes, even with the tinted windows.\n\nHe sped on, wanting not to think but the words came anyhow. What should he do with the information on the wireline tape once he got it? Or should he forget about copying it? Chuck it all. Or maybe he could hide out for a while. Oh, sure, persona non grata. A man without a home, a job, maybe a country. Not much of a prospect. But then, being dead was hardly a better alternative.\n\nFor now, he could only push on, keep moving. The car surged forward, gaining in speed. Then out of the night he saw the one weak tail light of a slow moving pickup ahead and realized he was nearly upon it. Too late. Another car was coming from the opposite direction on the two-lane road. He stomped on the brakes, wheeling the car onto the shoulder. Gravel sprayed; the car jumped a shallow ditch, ran over a wire fence, and thudded to a halt in a field.\n\nHe sat for a while, trying to gain mastery over his jumping nerves. Thank God for quick instincts. Or had he been saved? Twice tonight. Maybe all this was some clear sign that he was to go forward. Or were these bad things warnings from a beneficent god. Crazy thoughts.\n\nBut he had to get out of here. Was the car operable? He turned the ignition and the car started. He backed it up and went forward over the wire fence, now flattened. No passers-by had stopped to check on him; apparently his near miss had gone unnoticed.\n\nBack onto the highway, he tried to think where he was. He had no idea how far he had come or even which direction. It was 9:32 according to the clock on the dash. It'd been forty-five minutes since he left the explosion. An intersection ahead. He turned right and proceeded for several miles. Woods, emptiness. This was getting him nowhere. Maybe a farm house. A another road might be more promising, he thought, as he looked for signs of human habitation. He saw a sign reflected from his headlights.\n\nHe pulled into what looked like a newly paved drive and read \"Observatory Out-station.\" From the university? If he was lucky, he'd find someone at the telescope. Get directions back into Houston. Decide then what to do, whether to go for it, copy the logs, or forget it and his conscience, permanently. Tell the Israelis he was sorry but they were on their own.\n\nHe saw a chunky, domed building, rather small, with a paved turnaround for parking in front. One other car was parked there, old and rather battered. Not as battered as his own--or rather Rick's, he thought. He was disappointed in himself. He'd about lost it tonight, gone off the deep end.\n\nHe tried the door, but it was locked. The building seemed without lights at all. No windows, certainly. Made sense for an observatory. He pressed the lighted buzzer. In less than a minute the door swung open. Mackenzie could see the dim interior behind the old gentleman who answered the door.\n\n\"Yes?\" the man said pleasantly, calmly. He was small, almost wizened.\n\nMackenzie felt a need to reassure him, though the man betrayed no anxiety. \"Sorry to bother you. I'm lost. I've gotten off the main road and need some directions. Could you help me?\"\n\n\"You look tired,\" he said. He stepped back for Mackenzie to enter.\n\n\"I am. Very tired.\"\n\n\"Then you must rest first. The dome, I think. It's dark and quiet there.\" They were in what appeared to be the foyer, less than twenty feet in diameter with several tables and chairs along the curved walls. Two darkly shaded lamps provided just enough light to navigate the room. Opposite him, Mackenzie saw an iron staircase and a hallway leading to the back.\n\nMutely, Mackenzie followed the white-haired man. He looked to be in his mid seventies. Mackenzie's throat tightened as emotion welled up in him. Unfamiliar emotion, repressed since he was young. Self-pity? Release from anxiety? Or simply a response to what he felt to be an understanding heart?\n\n\"Up here,\" the man said, indicating the staircase for Mackenzie to ascend. \"You're lucky you caught me out of the darkroom. I can't hear the bell in there, and I'm there half the time these nights.\"\n\nMackenzie fought to recover his poise. \"Do you teach,\" he asked the man, who was climbing the stairs behind Mackenzie, \"at the university?\" His voice croaked as if he'd just begun speaking after a year-long silence.\n\n\"Oh, my, no. I retired years ago. But my particular interest is as lively as ever. More so, really, since I have time now to devote myself exclusively to it. Or would,\" he chuckled, \"if my wife didn't make me stay home occasionally. Then, too, I can use the observatory only when it's not being occupied by the university astronomers. It's between semesters now. Here we are!\"\n\nThe room was very dark. \"Watch the telescope,\" the man cautioned. \"It's in the center. The console is on your left. Your eyes will get accustomed to the dark in a moment.\"\n\nThe room was also humid and warm. As warm as the outside. Mackenzie looked up. The outside was coming in. The dome was open, exposing the night sky, clear of clouds, dense with stars. He let out his breath, relaxing. He seemed to be trembling inside, uncontrollably.\n\nThe room, the dark. It reminded him of something. Reminded him of a dream he'd had a few nights ago. Forgotten until now. There'd been a dark room there, too, more a closet, with a closeness that had seemed oppressive, threatening. Not like this space, which was oddly comforting. But in the dream, as in here, a window, far above, emitted a faint light. It had shown the way of escape, a path out. In the dream, he'd felt saved. He'd awakened with a memory of the emotions--anxiety, fear, and hope. He hadn't dwelt on it at the time, but here, now, it loomed as something important.\n\n\"Come and take this stool here, Mr. . .?\"\n\n\"Haber. Mac Haber.\"\n\n\"I'm glad to know you. I'm Barnabas Day. Friends call me Barney.\"\n\n\"What are you looking for?\"\n\n\"I heard about the supernova being spotted. I've been here all week taking pictures of it.\"\n\n\"Was it in the news?\"\n\nBarney chuckled. \"No, only astronomers get excited about news like that. Every day I go to the Space-Science Department and check telegrams from the International Astronomical Union. Last week a supernova had been reported. I've been making my own observations and recording them on film. Would you like to take a look?\"\n\n\"Yes, thank you.\"\n\n\"I'm glad. I thought you needed some time here.\"\n\nMackenzie heard the sound of a motor, and the red lights of the telescope blinked, showing the slight movement of the dome. Automatic adjustment, no doubt, to the earth's rotation.\n\n\"Let me make certain I have a good fix on the guide star.\" Barney positioned himself at the reflecting telescope. \"I don't use the supernova itself except for the first reference. After that, I use a convenient closer star to make sure I'm in constant alignment. The driving system of the telescope gets a little out of whack.\" He looked through the finder scope and made a minuscule adjustment on a small control box he held in his hand.\n\n\"Is the supernova visible now?\" Mackenzie asked.\n\n\"Yes, but you won't be very impressed, I'm afraid. Have a look and then I'll show you the photographs I've been taking.\"\n\nMackenzie moved under the telescope and focused through the eyepiece. \"I see a bright dot in the center.\"\n\n\"That's it. Rather insignificant looking, as I said, but considering it's hundreds of thousands of light years away, we might better appreciate its humble looks. Its light is more than the combined light of some entire galaxies. Or you could compare it to one billion suns.\"\n\n\"An exploding star, something like a nova, right?\"\n\n\"Yes, but instead of erupting and dying down unchanged, a supernova is altered.\"\n\n\"It changes form, disappears?\"\n\n\"Not disappears. It may become a white dwarf or a neutron star--pulsar, possibly--or even a black hole.\"\n\nThe professor led Mackenzie to the console and switched on a small lamp. He had laid out several photographs. \"You can see the decrease in magnitude from the pictures taken at the beginning of the week to those taken last night.\"\n\n\"So soon. It flared and then it's over.\"\n\n\"Over the course of about a hundred days,\" Barney gently corrected. \"Not so soon. But then it would be something entirely different, maybe a white dwarf, collapsed into itself by its own density to become degenerate matter. It can't generate electrons in the atoms of its gases. When the contraction process doesn't stop for whatever reason, the star becomes a black hole. Then the surface gravity is so enormous nothing can escape, including photons--light. It seems to consume itself.\"\n\nMackenzie stared at the photographs. \"Does all the matter from the explosion condense to these forms?\"\n\n\"Oh, goodness, no. Great clouds of gases called nebulae are dissipated throughout the galaxy and into constellations such as the one we call the Crab Nebula.\" Barney rearranged the photographs. In the background, the small motor hummed and the dome turned. \"While we speak, stars are being born in interstellar cocoons of dust. Can't see 'em though. Light can't penetrate that shield.\"\n\n\"So nothing is really lost except the original form?\"\n\n\"Nothing is lost. Matter cannot be destroyed, only transformed. Put to a different use, we might say. Something dies, something is born. It keeps the universe in a steady state. Never gets out of balance, one thing growing too large and taking over.\"\n\nPut to a different use. Steady state. \"Why do you do this? Spend your evening hours in this way? Is it a quest?\"\n\n\"Quest? Yes, I suppose so. I find it exciting. But I'm just a link in a chain, you know. And it's gratifying to know that my observations are useful to someone across the world for determining, say, the distance of the galaxy that contains the supernova. We all work alone, yes, but together as well, following the cycle of the star. It's called longitudinal dependent astronomy.\"\n\n\"You don't get any credit or reward, any of you, yet you share in the knowledge.\"\n\n\"Exactly.\" Barney chuckled. \"Sounds like a mad pursuit to the uninitiated, I suppose.\" A bell dinged. \"Time to change plates. But it's satisfying, really satisfying, to know you've helped find a piece of the puzzle.\" He snapped off the console lamp and the room was again encased in darkness.\n\n\"May I look through the telescope again?\" Mackenzie asked.\n\n\"Surely. Here, I'll check the alignment.\" Again he adjusted the controls and then stepped aside for Mackenzie.\n\nHe saw the point of light. It seemed marvelous somehow that it had been there for eons, like the Moho, unknown and unobtrusive until it called attention to itself. Soon it would settle into darkness again, maybe dissipated throughout the universe.\n\nMackenzie felt again a sense of intimacy with the man's mind, his work. Yet what he did went virtually unnoticed even though the value to science was enormous. These scientists knew they were part of a big plan. They just couldn't hurry it.\n\n\"Patience and waiting. Your life. Not my style, I'm afraid.\"\n\n\"You're a man of action. Yes. But astronomers can't look for immediate results of their work. Maybe we're endowed with a different sense of time. 'What's time? Leave Now for dogs and apes: Man has Forever,' or so says Robert Browning.\"\n\n\"I understand. Not a very American philosophy, is it.\"\n\nBarney chuckled. \"No, in general, Americans don't possess what we might call the Oriental mind--the ability to see human endeavor from the perspective of hundreds or thousands of years.\"\n\nMackenzie was silent for several minutes, staring upward at the sky. He felt refreshed, renewed. He had to leave now, but he'd take with him Barny's thoughts. The world and concerns that engaged Barney's mind were pure, unfettered by petty human affairs. Mackenzie had almost forgotten that world of the scientist. But all this had something to do with Mackenzie's own particular science, and the Moho. He needed to think and decide.\n\n14\n\nAs soon as Barney oriented Mackenzie as to where they were in relation to Houston, Mackenzie was able to find his way back without any problems. He had driven over twenty-five mindless miles in his dash to escape his troubles. His mind was clear now. He knew what must be done and how to do it.\n\nFor the moment, he had to concentrate on his next task, securing the tape and copying it without being detected. He felt sure he had thrown off any would-be pursuers. Probably Rick's car had helped, as well as his careful exit from his condo. He thought ruefully of Rick's poor car, scratched and dented from the crashing ride into a field.\n\nHe drove alertly through the downtown streets, free from heavy traffic now. Almost eleven o'clock. His pursuers could be lying in wait for him at the entrance to the building or the parking garage. Best not to park there. On a side street would be better. From several blocks away, he noticed lights on the upper floors of the building. The cleaning people should be finishing up but might get in the way. Couldn't waste any time. It would take maybe thirty minutes, maybe more, to get the tape copied. It wouldn't be a piece of cake, but he had a good chance to pull this off if he was quick and watchful.\n\nHe had his pick of street-side parking spots and chose one two blocks over. He got his briefcase from the back seat and walked quickly without breaking into a run through the alleys. Didn't want to call attention to himself. The lower rear entrance to the complex would be locked. But again, Fowler had provided access by assigning keys to upper management. A convenience Mackenzie had appreciated on other occasions.\n\nMackenzie looked up the alleyway that led to the back door of the office building on one side, and the stairs to the garage on the other. Ramps above crossed over from the eight floors of the parking pavilion to the office building. The alley was empty. At the far end, an occasional car passed by on the street. Everything seemed normal. If the office complex was being watched, probably no one knew to check out this rather obscure entryway. Most likely, a watcher would be positioned at the front of the building or in the parking garage where he usually parked his car.\n\nInside the back hallway, Mackenzie looked through the door that led to the main lobby, now softly lit and mute. A security guard would be in an adjacent room. Even if Mackenzie was spotted by the guard, he was well known, having worked late on many occasions.\n\nIt took some minutes to reach the thirty-fourth floor on the slow, rumbling, freight elevator. He stepped out near the fire stairs and made his way through the doorway and down the hall toward the vault. The floor was deserted and dark except for dim security lights in the ceiling at long intervals. He turned into the passage to the storage area and vault room. Again, the door opened with a twist of the key. He closed it behind him and turned to the vault. From memory, he tried the combination, hearing the tumblers click into position. After opening the vault door, he switched on the interior light. He had to leave the vault door partially open, mainly for ventilation. There were no vents inside, and the air grew stale quickly. Now for the chest.\n\nHe looked at the chest with a kind of fondness, remembering the exciting days aboard the Neptune Challenger, never dreaming how his life would be changed by the discovery made aboard that fateful ship. Or that his view of himself and men he trusted, admired, would be altered forever. But he was the same person he always had been, wasn't he? Like that exploding star, he'd had to change, but the atoms of his true self were the same. He laughed softly. He was not so small that he had become a white dwarf like Leo, so heavy with self-importance he had become a black hole consuming itself, like Fowler. In doing this deed, he was restoring something that he thought he'd lost. Regenerating.\n\nThe records clasped tightly in his arms, he locked only the outside door to the room, not the vault. He'd have to come back and return the original tape. The main hallway was still quiet, no cleaning people, no security guard. He again took the fire stairs to avoid running one of the elevators from the lobby and went down one floor to the Diazit machine. He felt like whistling.\n\n*\n\nJeremy Willis made an occasional practice of returning to the office when he had business on his mind and couldn't sleep. He didn't advertise to his colleagues his strange hours, which sometimes grew so late he simply fell asleep, fully dressed, on his couch. So what, he thought. He'd had a shower installed in his personal washroom with Fowler's blessing. Fowler understood what real devotion was.\n\nThis evening he'd been hard at work trying to balance figures against his projections for the subsidiaries. His door was closed against interruptions from the cleaning service. But he'd been at it several hours; he felt stiff and decided he needed a stretch. Too long hunched over his desk. He opened the office door and walked into the small, darkened reception area where his secretary worked. Probably ought to turn in. He might not go home tonight. He yawned, and caught himself mid-yawn. He'd heard a noise. It wasn't the custodians. They heralded their arrival on the floor by turning on every light in the place. No, this was a small, furtive noise and came from the vault area. He never admitted to being physically courageous, but he felt some responsibility. He peeked from behind the corner as a figure moved down the hall toward the fire stairs. Brawny, moving fast. Looked like Mac.\n\nJeremy stalked him at a distance, noting on the stairs that he disappeared through the door of the floor below. He eased the door open and saw him enter the copying room far down the hall near the elevators. It was Mac. What in the world would he be doing in the vault at this hour? And then copying something? He tiptoed down to see.\n\nHe saw that Mackenzie was unfolding a massive wireline tape, the Diazit turned on. He really was copying something. Something he shouldn't? This might be the thing that would tip the scales against Mac. Obviously, he was doing this late at night so Fowler wouldn't learn of it. And wouldn't Davros be interested. Was this the problem that Davros had been hoping he'd stumble on?\n\nHe crept back to the stairs and went up the one flight to his own office. He sank down into his well padded chair and thought. Should he or shouldn't he? Maybe he could simply waylay Mac and see what story he had for this after hours work. But Mac was smooth. Jeremy dreaded a confrontation. He straightened the papers on his desk and considered.\n\nMaybe if he called Davros and told him what was going on, Davros could decide what should be done. Davros's emergency number. Where was it? In his pocket organizer. Yes.\n\nDavros answered on the first ring. Jeremy shrank a bit from the suddenness of the man's rough, deep voice. Then he pulled himself together. \"This is . . . the person who is observing Haber,\" he said cautiously. No point in getting his name recorded if such a thing was going on.\n\n\"Yes, what is it?\"\n\n\"I thought you'd like to know that the subject is here at the office, doing something rather strange.\"\n\n\"Haber! He is there? Are you sure?\" Davros sounded almost shocked.\n\n\"Yes, that's what I said. I thought you'd like to know that it looks suspicious. He's copying something he retrieved from the president's private vault. Looks like wireline tape. I can't imagine what it is, but he's definitely sneaking around.\"\n\n\"I'll be right over. This would be an excellent time to confront Mr. Haber before he does something really stupid.\"\n\n\"That's what I thought,\" Jeremy said with satisfaction.\n\n\"How can I get in? I presume there's a guard?\"\n\n\"Yes. It'd be better if I left the back service entrance open for you. It's down one flight of stairs from the parking garage entry off the alley, ground level. I'll go right down and put a piece of tape over the lock. He's on the thirty-third floor, but I'd advise you to come up in the freight elevator near the service entrance. Here's what you do. After you get off the freight elevator on thirty-three, walk straight ahead and take the first hallway to the right. He should be in the copying room if you hurry. Front of the building. Near the public elevators. My own office is on the thirty-fourth floor if you need me. I'd better wait up here.\"\n\n\"I've got it. You've been very helpful. This will deserve a bonus.\"\n\n\"Well, that's . . . thank you. Just don't delay too long or you'll miss him.\"\n\n\"I'm on my way.\" The line went dead.\n\nJeremy picked up a roll of mailing tape from his secretary's drawer and walked out to the long corridor, past the vault room, and around the corner to the fire stairs and freight elevator. He, too, would play it safe. This elevator was so far to the rear of the building, neither Mac nor the security guard would hear it running. He had a few qualms about doing this--surely no harm would come to Gravely and Fox in letting Davros in to the building. He smoothed his hair nervously as he watched the floor numbers go by slowly. It was all in a good cause if Mac really was going against the interests of the government, maybe even Fowler's or the company's own interests. Yes, this was the right thing to do.\n\nOnce at the back entry, he attached the tape securely over the lock and went back up to his own floor, waiting in the shadows near the public elevators. Thirty more minutes went by. Maybe he'd better walk down to thirty-three to check on Mac. Make sure he wasn't leaving. Maybe he'd have to engage him in conversation to delay him. But just then he heard steps from the direction of the fire stairs. Jeremy slipped around a corner and waited. Mac. It was Mac. He was going back into the vault. Davros was late. He'd have to take some action. He had his story ready.\n\n*\n\nThe copying had been tedious and slow–unfolding stacks of paper and feeding it through the machine, keeping it in order, and then folding it back again. It was long past midnight before Mackenzie had his own stack of pleated paper stacked beside Fowler's. He switched off the machine and the lights to the copying room and after putting his copy in his briefcase, started up the stairs. Now to restore Fowler's copy to the chest. He felt very tired, numb, almost as if in a trance.\n\nHe had replaced the material in the chest and was locking the door to the room when he heard someone give a light cough. He froze in place hardly breathing, but when he saw the figure dimly outlined in the doorway to the short hall, he walked forward.\n\n\"Hello?\" It might be someone from the janitorial service.\n\n\"Mac?\"\n\nMackenzie fumed inwardly. It was Jeremy Willis. True, his office was down the hall, but Mackenzie had never expected to run into him so late. \"What--\"\n\n\"What--\" Willis stopped as they both spoke.\n\n\"I guess we're both burning the midnight oil,\" Mackenzie said lightly, with what he hoped was a convincing laugh.\n\n\"I sometimes come down and work if I've got some business problems to deal with. Sleep on the couch in my room.\"\n\nMackenzie believed him. The secretaries talked about his showering before work when he stayed overnight. But there was inquiry in his voice. What was Mackenzie doing up on this floor? And why was he here so late, at the door to the vault? This could present a problem. If Jeremy chose, he could casually mention to Fowler he saw Mackenzie near the vault. As Vice President of Finance, Jeremy may even have access to the vault himself and demand an explanation.\n\nBefore Mackenzie could concoct a plausible excuse, he noticed movement at the far end of the hall. He turned sharply to face someone coming up on them fast. A stranger. What the hell was going on? As the man drew closer, Mackenzie saw he was holding a gun. Mackenzie gave a soft curse and gripped the briefcase tightly.\n\nJeremy turned his head and gasped. \"Davros. What do you think you're doing? There's no need for a gun!\"\n\nHe gave Willis a contemptuous look. \"What does it look like? I wish to have a conversation with Mr. Haber.\" He jerked his gun at Mackenzie. \"I brought along a persuader to remind him to tell me the truth.\"\n\nIf the situation hadn't been so critical, Mackenzie might have laughed at Davros's outmoded, Hollywood-style reference to his gun. \"Do you know this man?\" Mackenzie asked Jeremy. Something about his features was familiar, rang an ominous bell. Of course! One of the pictures Chaim showed him at the Consulate. He was part of the Islamic sect under scrutiny.\n\nJeremy didn't answer Mackenzie but instead addressed Davros. \"Put down that gun. This is ridiculous.\" He turned to Mackenzie, waving his hands with ineffectual gestures. \"He just wants to make sure you don't get in trouble.\"\n\n\"I doubt that,\" Mackenzie said dryly, his eyes never leaving the man's face. \"Who are you really? I presume Davros isn't your name.\"\n\nThe man shrugged. \"My name is unimportant. I am part of an organization called Hegira. You've perhaps heard of us lately.\" He smirked at Mackenzie.\n\n\"So, what do you want of me?\" He still carried the briefcase. He had begun to sweat. But the sense of tiredness had evaporated. An adrenalin rush had alerted his mind and muscles. Now was the showdown. And this time it was for keeps. With Jeremy present, maybe the gunman would be distracted by him, which would give Mackenzie an opportunity. As if on cue, Jeremy took a step toward Davros.\n\n\"You're not government. You lied to me. You played me for a fool.\" He looked at Mackenzie and said plaintively. \"He told me he was from the government, some sort of agency. Security Enforcement. I thought it was the right thing to do when I saw you here coming from the vault, doing that copying.\"\n\n\"You let him in here tonight?\" Mackenzie asked, flabbergasted. What else had he told the man? But would it matter? He was holding the records the man wanted. Both he and Jeremy had served their purposes. If he could keep the man talking, though, perhaps he could think of something.\n\n\"I did, Mac, and I know now how wrong I was.\" He again addressed Davros in a voice craven with fear. \"What do you want? I don't know anything. He's the one you're interested in, not me.\" He began to edge away from the man toward the front of the building by the public elevators.\n\n\"Stay where you are, Mr. Willis,\" the man snapped. \"I want both of you to know why before you are sent to oblivion.\"\n\n\"Tell me then, who or what is Hegira?\" Mackenzie asked. \"It's not a known terrorist organization.\"\n\n\"Not yet, but it soon will be.\" His voice contained a note of pride. \"We were recently organized by the Arab OPEC nations to combat difficulties as they arose. Anything or anyone who might get in our way. You, Mr. Haber, have been a concern for many years to some of our member nations who knew something about your past activities.\" His lips curled downward. \"We haven't been able to find the evidence we needed to control the situation until now. Furthermore, in the past we had no real organizing power. No stomach for intruding ourselves into the American scene. Times have changed, Mr. Haber.\"\n\n\"So my long ago activities had me targeted. The project had been infiltrated by someone from a Mid Eastern country. Is that it?\"\n\n\"That's good enough. A danger has been hanging over our heads for years. Mainly you. The others had to be quickly eliminated when our latest demands spurred you to action. Before that they'd been considered safe.\"\n\n\"Leo Danzig? You did kill him?\"\n\nDavros gave a smug grin. \"Of course. A weakling that you might have convinced. But always we knew you to be the problem.\"\n\n\"Why wasn't I simply killed outright?\"\n\nHe wagged his head expressively. \"It was possible you might have come round to a more prudent view. You had done so at other times of crisis. On the other hand, you might have talked to some others; we had to know.\"\n\n\"And did you find out?\"\n\n\"Thanks to Mr. Willis, we found out you had too close a connection to the Israelis. It suggested something devious.\"\n\n\"And so the package bomb you sent me?\"\n\nJeremy gasped. \"Bomb. Leo killed. Oh, my God! Mac, I didn't know, I swear I thought he--\"\n\nThe man interrupted Jeremy as if he hadn't spoken. \"Yes, we hoped to catch you off-guard. Apparently, you were too clever for us. Now we need a different solution to our problem.\" In the dim light Davros's face as well as Willis's looked waxy. Willis seemed to be melting as perspiration ran down his forehead.\n\nMackenzie raised his chin defiantly. Might as well go out standing up. \"You think killing me will solve the problem? What about those I've told?\"\n\n\"They'll be helpless without proof. I'm delighted to see you appear to have it for us.\" He motioned to the briefcase in Mackenzie's hand. \"Is that it? We thought you might be about ready to resort to this. Mr. Willis has played his part well.\"\n\n\"It has nothing to do with me!\" Jeremy's voice cracked with conviction.\n\nDavros turned to Jeremy and gave him a smile. \"I'm afraid it now concerns you too much.\" He raised the gun and fired one muffled shot. Jeremy, without a cry, crumpled like a paper doll.\n\n\"Jesus Christ,\" Mackenzie breathed. He started to move, but Davros cautioned him with another movement of the gun.\n\n\"You'll get your turn, but first I want to see what's in the briefcase. I need to make sure it's what we seek.\"\n\nMackenzie wondered if he should throw it at him. But pulling a trigger would be quicker than throwing a heavy briefcase. He stepped backward, unsure where to go, what to do. Jeremy was not dead, though; he noticed some movement from the sprawled figure behind Davros. He would try to position the man in front of Jeremy. Maybe Jeremy could make a run for it, get on the elevator before being shot again.\n\n\"What if I'm not carrying the proof?\" Mackenzie began to sidle backwards toward the street side window. Davros turned to follow him. \"All this will be for nothing. What will your next step be? You'll need me.\"\n\n\"You should know by now I'm quite serious. I want the record, and I think you've got it. Hand me your briefcase,\" he said in a menacing voice.\n\nMackenzie handed it to him and watched him open it clumsily with one hand and look inside.\n\nBehind Davros, Mackenzie saw Willis rise painfully to his knees and then onto one foot. Blood had seeped onto the white front of his shirt. He lunged toward the man, grasping at his arm, knocking him off balance. Davros dropped the briefcase and twisted around in an effort to put another bullet into Willis, who was on his feet, pushing him backward down the hall. The window behind them, aglow with the lights of the city, silhouetted their struggle.\n\nMackenzie saw his chance. He leaped toward the two men locked together and struck Davros's gun hand a vicious blow, sending the gun flying. Davros threw off Willis, who fell face down on the floor. Then he came back with a solid right to Mackenzie's jaw. The force of the blow made him reel backwards and crash against the wall. He saw Davros looking frantically for the gun in the darkened hallway. It was, Mackenzie knew, in the corner by the large plate glass window.\n\nThen Davros saw it.\n\nBut Mackenzie was on him. He kicked Davros's legs out from under him, felling him. He then tried to straddle his back to immobilize him. But Davros, quick and well trained, slid around to grasp Mackenzie's neck, pulling him over. With Mackenzie down, Davros jumped up and ran for the gun. Again, Mackenzie was in pursuit. He slammed into the man with all his strength and sent him crashing through the window, glass flying into Mackenzie's face. He caught himself at the sill, panting for air. Thirty-four stories. The end of Davros.\n\nThat was that. But Jeremy. Was he alive? He went back to the inert body and examined him quickly. Dead. A lifeless eye staring into the wall, like a glass eye, he thought, and then the real horror of the situation dawned. Now he could feel sympathy for Jeremy, even as considered his foolish behavior. He tried to redeem himself at the end and paid the price. But no time to lose. Get the hell out. He found his briefcase and ran down the hall to the freight elevator. He could probably make it out through the back entrance before the police arrived--if he was lucky. Still, if seen leaving the building now, he could claim ignorance--on his own floor below he couldn't hear a thing--but it'd be tricky and he didn't want questions about his activities or a search of his briefcase.\n\nAt the alleyway door, he paused when the door opened without the click of the lock. It had been taped. Jeremy had obviously let Davros in by this door. Mackenzie pulled the strip off and put it in his pocket. Let the authorities try to figure out the man's method of entry. The last thing he needed was for the police to make a connection between Davros and Jeremy.\n\nMackenzie's cautious walk through the streets to his car was uneventful. He saw no car parked near his own. He saw no one pull out after him. He looked at the briefcase beside him and gave a grim smile. It had been a hell of an evening--burglary, bombing, and a killing, but he'd gotten the goods. Now to deliver them.\n\n15\n\nAfter he'd deposited the car in the garage of the condo, he forced himself to walk casually to his back entrance, feeling an urge to sprint. But again, no sign of anyone lurking. Maybe Davros had gone to the building without informing any confederates. Even so, the news of the killing would soon be out. Then Hegira would really be gunning for him. He thought to look carefully around the lock of the back door for signs of tampering, but everything seemed perfectly normal. He had jitters, yes, but they were justifiable under the circumstances.\n\nIt was late, but he thought he could use a drink to settle his nerves. He tried to eat some crackers to help fill the void in his stomach, but they turned to ashes in his mouth. Davros, flying through the window; Jeremy sprawled with staring lifeless eyes. The memories swam before him as from a dream or a movie he might have seen years before.\n\nMackenzie took his drink into the darkened living room and sank back into the cushions of the sofa. He hadn't registered any sound from Davros, no cry, only the crash of breaking glass, but now he recalled the gradually thinning scream of the killer as he plunged to his death.\n\nEventually, he slipped into a semi-prone position. He removed his shoes and drew a throw over him, trying to clear his mind of the night's events. He'd have to be at work in a few hours as if nothing had happened.\n\nHe slept later than he had intended, not waking until 8:00. As he dragged himself off the couch, the horrifying evening intruded into his thoughts. Jeremy, a shame, yes, but he'd brought it on himself, playing with fire, hoping to undermine his colleague. Still, it was bad business.\n\nHe showered, feeling the soothing play of hot water on his sore body. It had been through the mill. He shaved and stared at his face through a lifting fog of steam. A bruise on his chin, not that noticeable. A bump on the back of his head, not noticeable at all. Everything had seemed so right when he left the observatory last night. He had been buoyed up by a sense of direction, a feeling of confidence. He had known what to do.\n\nNow, in the clear light of day, he thought of what it meant to have a killer–maybe killers–after him. He had to ask himself if the plan still had a hope, or was he simply grasping at straws, not a very stable support. But considering again what had to be done and how he could do it, he was reassured it was the only way. If it worked, he'd be safe. Not to say he still didn't have an awesome task ahead of him, even if Chaim and the others agreed to go through with it.\n\nAll the debris from Davros's plunge had been cleared from the street, he was glad to see, when he drove past the office complex. A patrol car with streaking lights, a police van, and two plain cars were noticeably parked in front of the building, and tapes and markers blocked the sidewalk where the investigation was proceeding. Would the Hegira be on watch for him today? He drove past the parking pavilion to another one in the next block. Better to be safe than sorry--but what was safe anymore?\n\nHe wondered about the police inquiry upstairs, which must be in progress. If asked about his whereabouts last night, his story had to be carefully, casually given, that he'd gone home from work at much the usual time and spent a quiet evening alone. No one except Jeremy and Em knew he'd been here later, and Em's lips would be sealed.\n\nHe had expected to get a middle-of-the-night call from Fowler telling him of the deaths, but mercifully he'd had an uninterrupted five hours of sleep. Now, this morning, he still felt drugged with tiredness, sapped by nervous exhaustion. He didn't relish confronting Fowler. But that would be on the agenda; it too was part of the plan.\n\nEntering through the back alley door, he arrived at the thirty-third floor at 9:45 and noticed no unusual activity. He presumed detectives were interviewing staff because of the homicides, but it appeared almost business as usual. The secretaries were in a huddle and looked at him with questioning eyes. He didn't know anything had happened, of course. Em detached herself from the group and followed him into his office.\n\n\"Have you heard the terrible news, Mac?\"\n\nHe frowned, looking anxious or at least concerned, he hoped. \"What news? What is it?\" He set his briefcase down inside the well of his desk. He must guard it well from now on.\n\n\"An intruder was in the building last night. He obviously surprised Jeremy, who must have decided to spend the night here. He sometimes does--did that. Oh, Mac,\" she cried, bursting into tears. \"Jeremy's been killed.\"\n\n\"My God! How? You mean the intruder killed him?\"\n\nEm nodded, wiping her eyes with a tissue. \"He must have fought with the guy and pushed him through the window upstairs. But Jeremy'd been shot. He died before the police got to him.\"\n\nMackenzie sat down heavily at his desk. He didn't need to pretend the shock that vibrated through him upon Em's stark recital. The actual scene, its horror and danger, renewed itself. He covered his face with one hand.\n\n\"I'm so sorry, Mac. I know he was something of a pill, but this is terrible. It's so ironic that Jeremy'd be the one to have to deal with a gun-toting burglar. He seemed so weak and ineffectual. But he managed it.\"\n\n\"Yes, he did.\"\n\n\"You were lucky to have gotten your business out of the way before the trouble started. Did you get what you needed copied?\"\n\nHe looked at her. \"Copied? Yes, I got that taken care of. No problem.\" He thought for a moment. \"Is Fowler in?\"\n\n\"Oh, yes. He was here before I was. A couple of detectives are talking to him. I'm surprised he didn't call you at home.\"\n\n\"Probably realized there wasn't anything I could do.\" There it was again, a nagging concern that Fowler was keeping him in the dark, had not informed him promptly of the deaths. But even if Fowler was having second thoughts about Mackenzie's reliability, what difference would it make now?\n\n\"Anyhow, he asked me to tell you to come right in to his office as soon as you arrived.\"\n\n\"I'll go on in now.\" I can't let anything change my plans.\n\nHe watched her leave and then dialed Fowler's extension.\n\n\"Fox!\" Fowler said in a jagged, hoarse voice.\n\n\"I've just heard the tragic news. Do you need me in your office?\"\n\n\"Yes, Mac. Come right in.\" He hung up.\n\nMackenzie turned the lock on his office door from the inside and closed it behind him as he left, hoping Em wouldn't need to get anything from his files. She was accustomed to having access to his work anytime she wanted. But he couldn't leave the precious evidence lying around behind an open door.\n\nInside Fowler's office, two men, obviously the detectives, were seated in front of Fowler's desk but rose when Mackenzie entered. They introduced themselves and shook his hand. \"We have some questions to ask you as well, Mr. Haber.\" Fowler hadn't moved from behind his desk, but his demeanor betrayed his internal agitation. The room was a fug of cigar smoke; Fowler must have been here since the early hours.\n\nMackenzie nodded and took a seat.\n\nThe more mature looking of the two said, \"You were, I presume, well acquainted with the deceased, Jeremy Willis.\"\n\n\"Of course. He was the Vice President of Finance. I'm the Vice President of Exploration. Naturally, we had constant business dealings.\"\n\n\"We were thinking more about a personal relationship?\"\n\n\"Not really. We didn't socialize much except for business affairs.\"\n\n\"Was that a usual thing around here, not to socialize--I mean among the management?\"\n\n\"If we didn't have much in common except our work. I never thought much about it.\"\n\nThe detective nodded and the other one jotted down something in his notebook. \"Do you know anything about a man named Davros?\" he went on, consulting his own notes. \"That is to say you may have known him by that name. In fact, he's been identified by the FBI as Mahmoud Abat-Sherad, a man with a questionable background, terrorist training in Libya.\"\n\nMackenzie raised an eyebrow and looked at Fowler, who sat slightly hunched over his desk, peering at Mackenzie through lowered brows. \"I'm certainly not acquainted with him.\"\n\nThe detective looked at him squarely. \"He was found on the sidewalk early this morning. I expect you've heard he'd fallen from the thirty-fourth floor. Any ideas about that?\"\n\nMackenzie shrugged. \"Can't imagine what he would have been doing in our offices.\" This could get sticky.\n\n\"That's what I said.\" Fowler's jaws were clamping and unclamping.\n\n\"We don't know the answer to that either. We were hoping you could help us. What about industrial espionage? Have you any projects that would attract the notice of foreign interests?\"\n\n\"Not in the sense you mean,\" Mackenzie answered. \"We're constantly developing new drilling equipment, but the idea of having plans stolen seems ridiculous. Anything innovative is promptly registered at the patent office.\" He looked at Fowler who nodded in agreement. \"Besides, if some foreigners in the industry wanted to steal our plans for, say, a new piece of equipment or technique, I wouldn't think they'd send in someone so obvious to prowl around. Better to infiltrate with a new employee. Did he have anything on him that might indicate what he was up to?\"\n\n\"Afraid not. We're just guessing. We may never know what brought him to Houston, to this building and the thirty-fourth floor. Maybe looking for a likely place to plant a terrorist device. We've got the dogs upstairs sniffing out the area for explosives. We'll keep the thirty-fourth floor sealed until it's secure.\" The two detectives folded their notebooks as if on cue and stood up, the older one assuring Fowler they'd be in touch. Fowler and Mac watched the detectives leave the office. Neither spoke until the door closed behind them.\n\nFowler sank again into his chair. \"Sit down, Mac. We've got to talk a little ourselves. I'd figured on a real celebration this morning.\" He pointed to a champagne bucket on the bar. \"I had Nora put out a Louis Roederer Cristal to chill last night so we could toast your new title as of August 31. President of Gravely and Fox. Champagne don't seem right now.\"\n\n\"No. When did you hear about Jeremy?\"\n\n\"Not until four this morning. Evidently, the body of that Arab was spotted by a patrol car sometime after two. They messed around a bit with the security officer in the building, who gave them my name when they discovered the guy had fallen from the thirty-fourth floor.\" Fowler gave Mackenzie a grim look; his face was haggard, pouchy eyes and drooping lines.\n\n\"I know this situation is a shock, but we do need to talk, Fowler.\" At all costs, he wanted to avoid a discussion of the deaths and whatever implications Fowler might draw from them. He took the plunge. \"I'd planned to speak to you anyway. I guess there's no easy way of saying this except to put it plainly. I'm not accepting the presidency.\"\n\n\"Not accepting? What are you saying?\" Fowler's face was a mask of disbelief.\n\n\"Just that, and more. I'm leaving the company.\" Stated baldly like that, it wasn't so difficult. He'd cautioned himself not to over explain. It wouldn't make any difference and he might slip and say something he shouldn't.\n\n\"Mac! Leaving Gravely and Fox? Mac, Mac, Mac, you don't mean that. You've been upset lately. Now this,\" he said, lifting his hand to indicate the floor above. He came around the desk and sat beside Mackenzie. \"But more than that, I know I've sounded harsh to you in the last few weeks. Cut you off, dismissed your concerns about the Moho. Is that it? Is it?\"\n\n\"The Moho? Yes, that's part of it.\"\n\n\"But you knew the deal on that from the beginning.\"\n\n\"I hardly did. I wasn't given any options, you know. Maybe I just want to excuse myself and my complicity, but you had me over a barrel. I'm picking myself up and moving on.\"\n\n\"Mac, don't let the conspiracy drive you out of here.\" He took a deep, sustaining breath as if to fortify himself. \"What if I told you it's been the Moho that has kept Gravely and Fox such a prosperous company through thick and thin; it's been the reason we could expand into other areas. Would that make more sense to you about why we don't want news of the discovery to leak out?\"\n\nMackenzie gave Fowler a quizzical look. \"I don't know what you mean. We've never been able to profit as a company from our knowledge. Except maybe with increased oil prices.\"\n\n\"No, I mean real income, steady income that's seen us and will see us through any changes in the oil market.\" He stood up and began to pace. \"I planned to talk to you about this after you took over the presidency. I hinted about it earlier when I told you that someday you'd have the Moho tape. And you will, I promise you. But I doubt that you'll ever have to open the region up for drilling. We've had and will continue to have the sweetest deal you could ever imagine. It should carry Gravely and Fox into the twenty-first century in fine style, if you don't mess things up.\"\n\n\"Be plain, Fowler,\" Mackenzie said curtly. \"I'm not in the mood for innuendo.\"\n\nFowler smiled, but his gestures were jerky. He was nervous, Mackenzie observed. \"When I copied out the wireline tape, I wondered what to do with it. I couldn't see implicating myself or Gravely and Fox in a conspiracy, no matter what. Then I thought, why not share the information with those who'd want the news covered up even more than the United States?\" He paused in his aimless ramble in front of Mackenzie, who rose from his seat.\n\n\"You went to the Arabs?\" Who was this man? Had he really believed in him, trusted him? He gave a low moan of despair.\n\n\"Now don't take it like that. This didn't go against our country, did it? I just thought we might as well profit from all our effort. The oil cartel snapped up my offer like a chicken on a worm. Ever since, Gravely and Fox has been getting a stipend from them to keep the news from the public.\" He allowed himself a complacent smirk. \"Of course, they didn't know it was a bluff. I didn't want the news to leak out any more than they did. But they've never called my hand. Too risky for them.\"\n\nThe implications of this revelation were so staggering that Mackenzie hardly knew how to proceed. But there were answers he needed, just to set the record straight. \"Did they know who among us here at the company were in on the conspiracy?\"\n\n\"Sure, that was important for them. I told them you and Leo were safe. You weren't going to spill the beans.\"\n\n\"Did you happen to mention Joe Scudder?\"\n\nFowler shot him a withering glance. \"Don't try to lay that on me. If they found out about Joe being the toolpusher--hell, it was public record if they wanted to dig for it. Mainly, they needed to know how secure you and Leo were. I told them you boys would listen to me, take my advice. You always have when it comes to business matters, haven't you?\" Fowler looked jauntier now. He made his way to the bar.\n\n\"But not about geological or, for that matter, geopolitical matters,\" Mackenzie said. \"The Moho shouldn't have been considered from a merely business standpoint. It never should have, I know now.\"\n\nFowler removed two champagne flutes from the cabinet. Evidently, Mackenzie thought, nerves overrode Fowler's reluctance to breach decorum. He wasn't celebrating; he needed a drink.\n\n\"I know you've got an idea about scientific integrity, Mac. I respect that. And you seem to have a thing about Israel. The Arabs have wondered about you.\"\n\n\"Why would they? Did you suggest during the other crises that I was wanting to break the conspiracy?\"\n\n\"Not then, not really.\" Fowler set down the champagne bottle. \"Look, I figured you'd give in this time like you'd always done before, but my God, Mac, what would they have done to me if you went ahead and leaked it?\"\n\n\"So I was to be your insurance. As long as they had me to watch and could scare me into complying, you didn't have to worry.\"\n\n\"But I told them when they threatened this latest embargo that you'd fall in line. You and Leo I believed to be loyal--and I told 'em so! Joe didn't know enough to be dangerous to them.\" He turned to Mackenzie. \"Don't you see, Mac, all this will soon be your responsibility, your gain. I'll continue to handle the payments as Chairman of the Board. You won't get into such matters until after I'm dead and gone. But you need to know the set up, know who the contacts are.\"\n\nSo that's how the Hegira eventually came to distrust me. They knew me better than Fowler did. \"How could you manage the payments coming from the Arabs? Wasn't it a little hard to explain to accounting?\" How much had Jeremy known?\n\nFowler poured the champagne carefully. \"It's not hard to launder money when you're in our business. Contracts can be arranged that cut out a larger slice for us. It's all legal looking. Jeremy questioned it once; he knew we were overpaid, but I told him if he wanted to increase our holdings, buy companies, he'd better not look a gift horse in the mouth. He understood how business sometimes had to be done. He accepted the fact that I knew best.\" Fowler had filled the glasses brimful and now walked gingerly across the room to hand one to Mackenzie. \"I think a glass of bubbly would be appropriate after all.\"\n\nMackenzie sipped at the drink, still standing. His mouth was quite dry. \"I suppose in telling me this, you believe it'll make a difference in my decision?\"\n\n\"Mac! Think! Gravely and Fox never needs to worry about hard times, slow downs, low prices, even more competition. We're set for as long as the Moho remains a secret.\" He put his glass on the ebony desk. It spilled over in a little puddle. \"I want you to know that I've never personally taken a dime. Every bit of these extra funds has gone into the company.\"\n\nAnd you've paid yourself a handsome salary as head of that company. \"This is all very interesting, but you've read me wrong again, Fowler. My decision to leave the company isn't based on its future prosperity. It has to do with the integrity of Gravely and Fox and my own integrity--what I can live with. Maybe it has a lot to do too with the way I spend my work life--the need I have to get out from behind a desk. I've made my decision, and now all I can do is leave.\"\n\n\"Do you think you could get another job in this industry,\" Fowler sneered, \"without my recommendation? I can ruin you just as fast as I can raise you up.\"\n\n\"I don't plan to stay in the oil business. Do or say what you want, my plans won't hinge on your good will.\"\n\n\"Now you're dreaming. The oil business has been your career; that's where your connections are, your expertise is. Don't tell me you can leave this business.\"\n\n\"I just did. I mean it, Fowler. I'm getting out.\"\n\n\"But what'll I do without you?\" Fowler cried. His voice held a note of genuine distress. \"I'd always planned for you, built the company for you to take over.\"\n\n\"I was supposed to be the new improved Fowler. Giving me the reins was no more than extending your control for as long as you had a hold over me. I can see that now, and I'm rejecting it.\" He turned to go. \"I'll try to finish up what business I have pending before I leave.\"\n\n\"Don't do me any favors. I'll handle it from now on. Just get out, you . . . you . . .\" For once, Fowler seemed speechless. He slammed his fist on the desk and then swept the two champagne flutes off onto the carpet. \"I don't want to see you again.\"\n\nAs Mackenzie walked to the door, Fox gave an anguished cry. \"You might have told me before I went to the board and sang your praises. You might have given me that.\"\n\nMackenzie turned to face Fowler again. \"I didn't know for sure until last night. Believe me, I thought I wanted the presidency more than anything in the world. And for what it's worth, I have appreciated being under your tutelage; I've learned a great deal from you, despite everything. I want you to know that.\"\n\n\"What do you want? Life on a beach? Breaking the bank at Monte Carlo? Do it for awhile. Take a flyer, have fun, go all out. Then come back like the responsible person you are and take up your new duties.\"\n\nMackenzie laughed. \"If I told you what I wanted, you wouldn't believe me. I'll make a living. Not as good as the one you've provided, but I'll survive.\"\n\n\"And what about Rick?\"\n\n\"He'll have to take it on the chin for a while, I suppose. Maybe find out how the other half lives. He'll be fine in a state school if it comes to that. It was fine for me. Besides, I'm not destitute yet, you know.\"\n\n\"But what about me, the company? You're leaving me in the lurch. Now with Jeremy gone, I haven't got anyone.\"\n\n\"I'm sure you can find a host of willing recruits for our jobs.\"\n\n\"You can't go through with this, Mac. It's unfair.\"\n\n\"You could always sell the company. Make a nice little profit.\"\n\n\"Sell Gravely and Fox? Rather rip out my heart.\"\n\n\"But it's all going to be different now, Fowler.\" He opened the massive door. \"You can't change that, no matter how much you wish.\" He pulled the door behind him, feeling as if he'd escaped from hell.\n\nHe went back to his office strangely lighthearted; he'd shed a weight that he'd believed to be part of him. But Fowler's disclosure had struck him between the eyes. All these years, sucking off the Arabs from motives of avarice. He refused to believe it took that kind of opportunism to succeed. He would soon be given the chance to prove his conviction.\n\nBut before he left, he felt obligated to clear up as many pending matters as he could for the sake of those who had depended on his expertise and authority. Fowler could take over after that, appointing grateful successors to his and Jeremy's positions. Mackenzie sorted through his files and pulled out those requiring urgent attention.\n\nHe started to buzz for Em when he stopped, considering. No one deserved more than she did. He'd planned to give her an extra generous bonus at Christmas, his prerogative, but now that would be impossible. And then for all he knew, Fowler might have called Personnel and had his name removed from the employment roster. His request for funds of any kind could be denied. As part of his contract he was owed a bonus based on company profits that he was due to receive at the close of the fiscal year, which was the end of June. That should be automatic and out of Fowler's hands. But Mackenzie would take care of Em. He wrote out a personal check for Emily Bainbridge in the amount of two thousand dollars. Not princely, but not paltry either if he thought about his uncertain future.\n\nHe didn't go out for lunch that day, asking Em to send out for sandwiches. Fowler hadn't made an effort to talk again to him. What might he doing now? After hearing news of the intruder, he'd probably checked on the records in the chest to see if they were intact. He had no reason to fear Mackenzie's duplicity in the matter. Mackenzie wanted to believe that Fowler had no idea his \"arrangement\" had brought danger to Mackenzie and death to Jeremy and Joe Scudder. He wouldn't have wished to be that much out of the picture, severed from controlling the situation and at the mercy of the Arabs.\n\nIn thinking how Fowler would handle Mackenzie's resignation, he realized that the old man wouldn't like to be seen by others as left at the altar. He was no doubt cooking up a story to explain Mackenzie's abrupt departure. The story most likely would be circulated that they'd had a policy disagreement, irreconcilable, that necessitated Mackenzie's leaving the company. Shocking to the employees, but keeping Fowler in a better light.\n\nTowards late afternoon, Mackenzie called for Em to come to his office for instructions. He dreaded telling her about his plans as much as he had Fowler. More, in a sense. There had been a grim satisfaction in disembarking from Fowler's floundering ship. But Em was an innocent; he didn't want her to suffer because of him.\n\n\"Yes, Mac,\" she said, standing in front of his desk. She had her note pad and pencil in her hands. She looked less brisk and more feminine today in a cream cotton jersey dress with a long, full skirt, belted with a turquoise sash.\n\n\"Sit down, Em.\" He rose and walked from behind his desk to sit on its edge near her. \"I've got to do some plain talking about big changes around here.\"\n\n\"The presidency?\"\n\nHe gave her a sad smile. \"I wish I could say yes, that what we've been expecting has finally come around, but it's completely different now. The opposite from your expectations, I know. I just turned down the presidency and resigned from Gravely and Fox.\" He heard her gasp, and he looked away from her stricken face.\n\n\"But why, Mac?\" Her voice was trembling.\n\n\"I can't go into details. Let's just say that Fowler and I have grievous differences. This has been a hell of a week. You more than anyone here know how tense and peculiar it's been. I've found what I needed to find, and I can't continue to work here. That's all.\"\n\n\"What will you do?\"\n\n\"I have an idea, but it's a little premature yet to get into specifics. It's not connected with the oil business, that I can say.\"\n\n\"Will there be a place for me?\" She was making an effort to calm herself now, though her voice was still shaky.\n\n\"As soon as I can arrange it. Not right away.\" He gave a wry grimace. \"I expect I won't be making enough money for a while to do more than work out of my home. Later, I hope to set up an office if all goes well.\"\n\n\"In Houston?\"\n\nHe moved his hand from side to side. \"Possibly. But I'll have the freedom to choose where I want to settle.\"\n\n\"I hope you'll be able to do more field work, Mac. I know that's what you've always liked.\"\n\n\"On the nose, Em. No wonder you've been such a good secretary.\" He paused for a moment. \"About the matter that we were engaged in this week . . .\"\n\n\"No one will ever know. It's not important to me. I've forgotten it.\"\n\n\"Thanks, Em. I want you to know that what we did will make a positive difference in the lives of millions of people. It was that big.\"\n\n\"I figured you weren't involved in anything petty. I know you pretty well after all these years. I could always trust you to do the honorable thing.\"\n\nHis face grew hot. \"Not always. When I fell from grace, it was a real screw up. I've been trying to put it right.\"\n\n\"I wish you'd tell me, Mac. I'd never say a word, you know.\"\n\n\"Of course not. But it's really impossible. For your own protection, you don't want to know. Besides, in a few days, I think it'll be rectified once and for all.\"\n\n\"I'm glad, Mac.\"\n\n\"Well, Em,\" he said rising. \"I guess this will be our last day together. I'll keep in touch and let you know when I'm ready to hire staff.\" He grinned. \"Maybe by then you'll be reluctant to leave your new boss anyway.\"\n\n\"Don't think it.\"\n\nThey shook hands. Then she impulsively reached to hug him. They both laughed, embarrassed at this unaccustomed display of emotion. He took the check from his pocket and handed it to her. She gasped as she read the amount and covered her eyes with one hand. \"I don't know what to say, Mac.\"\n\n\"Then don't try. It's little enough for all you've done for me through the years.\"\n\nHis throat was tight as he watched her leave the office. The last time for a long while he would be able to congratulate himself on his good fortune in having such excellent help.\n\n16\n\nThe three of them were seated in chairs much like those in Chaim's office--traditionally styled and upholstered in rich tapestry. As in the office, here in the apartment Chaim was sitting across from Teléah and Mackenzie; he'd seen many times before how people attached themselves to the familiar. Like animals of every stripe, we need our own territory, no matter how tiny or insignificant an area. He was soon to be staking out new territory for himself. The prospect, like for any pioneer journey, was daunting. Exciting, too.\n\nTeléah looked excited herself, or maybe it was the red, halter-style dress without sleeves. She looked wonderful. He smiled first at her and then Chaim, both of whom seemed to be checking him out with unreadable expressions. He supposed his own calm was confusing to them. By all rights, according to the impression he'd given to Chaim last night, he should have been a basket case by now.\n\nChaim had first, like a good host, welcomed Mackenzie to the meeting and provided him with a drink. Then, in the pregnant silence that followed, as Mackenzie sipped the smooth Scotch, the diplomat said quietly, \"Is it in there?\" He gestured toward the briefcase beside Mackenzie's leg.\n\n\"It is.\" Mackenzie reached down to unbuckle the case. He removed the thick record of the exploration to the Moho. He almost laughed to see their faces. They might have been gazing at the Ark of the Covenant. \"It looks like an ordinary wireline tape.\" He unfolded it, stretching the tape out until he found the end of the record. \"But here's the proof we needed. Everything is recorded that backs up my story. The report of our findings also includes a statement signed by Fox, Danzig, and me, attesting to our first-hand knowledge of the discovery.\"\n\n\"Let's take it to the dining room so we can spread it out,\" Chaim suggested.\n\nHe took the record from Mackenzie and partially unfolded it section by section on the table. \"No one could cast a doubt on the veracity of such a record?\" he asked, examining the tape closely. Teléah was standing between the two men.\n\n\"No,\" Mackenzie answered. \"This says it all. Here you'll see T. D. or total depth. Any earth scientist would recognize we'd reached the Moho; the wireline tape explicitly notes the latitude and longitude where the test took place, which would specify the location of the operation.\" He turned to the woman beside him. \"Is it clear to you, Teléah? Can you challenge it from the perspective of a scientist?\"\n\nTeléah said nothing for a moment, turning the sheaf of paper to read the data carefully. \"It looks absolutely definitive.\" She was quite near, and her scent, like that of a rare flower, stung his senses. He gathered his wits together. Careful.\n\nMackenzie folded the tape again and stashed it back in his briefcase. He felt no urgency now, hardly anxiety. The danger was still present, though, and he knew that Davros's death would not put an end to the threat from Hegira.\n\n\"Have you heard,\" he said to Chaim as they walked back to the living room, \"any more about the mysterious caller at our office complex last night?\"\n\n\"Not a word. Just the report in the paper. I was terrified when I first realized it was your company's offices, but relieved not to hear your name mentioned. Do you know who it was? Did you have to elude Hegira?\"\n\n\"In a manner of speaking, yes. The man who called himself Davros was let into the building by one of my associates, who had been spying for the Hegira, believing Davros, or so he was called, to be from a government security agency. We had a very ugly scene as you might imagine.\"\n\n\"Mackenzie!\" Teléah cried. \"You were there at the time of the killings?\"\n\nHe gave a bitter smile. \"Davros wanted this.\" He nodded at the tape. \"I didn't let him get it.\"\n\n\"My God, Mackenzie,\" Chaim exclaimed, a frown line appearing between his heavy brows. \"So you, rather than your unfortunate colleague, threw Davros out the window.\" He groaned. \"You mean you've been carrying that tape around with you since last night? I didn't think. Why didn't you let me know? I could have sent a driver to pick you up, take you to and fro. Did you notice anything suspicious at your home tonight?\"\n\n\"I haven't been home. I resigned from my job today and worked to clear up loose ends before leaving to get some dinner. I came directly from the restaurant here.\" He'd exited his building carefully, knowing others could be watching for him.\n\n\"Thank God for that,\" Teléah said, looking at Chaim.\n\n\"This sounds dangerous all around. You say you've resigned?\" He looked at him from behind his thick brows. \"You've evidently been through a great deal, my friend.\"\n\n\"I found out from Davros--actually, he's named Mahmoud Abat-Sherad--that he represented the mysterious Hegira, which is a brand new security operation funded by A-OPEC. They've been busy cleaning up what they considered messy details--like me. But Davros didn't have the last word after all.\"\n\nChaim's normally imperturbable expression had changed to one of admiration. \"A nice piece of work you've accomplished--and beyond the Moho, provided us with some valuable information. My God, the stakes are incredibly high in this game. We've known that, of course, but this incident should make us doubly cautious. Now how to play this last hand. That's what we must decide.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" nodded Mackenzie. \"Before I say anything, have you arrived at any decision? Come up with an idea?\"\n\n\"I've thought and thought. Teléah and I have talked about the problems connected with revealing the information on the Moho. We always are brought up short with the impossibility of damaging our relations with the United States. It would do incalculable harm even though the thought of a long range source of oil is tempting. Somehow, though, we must gain control of our destiny for our nation's sake and for the economic freedom of the West. We can't continue to be tyrannized by the Mid Eastern nations.\" He sighed. \"Why do I say the obvious? But, like you, we see no safe way to disclose the information. As it stands, your own situation is untenable, too. You can't be expected to live your life under constant threat either.\"\n\n\"I wouldn't have believed,\" interjected Teléah, \"how difficult it would be to resolve this situation. We appear to be so close now, yet so far.\"\n\nMackenzie nodded. \"You know how much I've struggled with the same thoughts. It wasn't until last night, driving on the outskirts of Houston, I suppose trying to escape everything, that I had a unique experience, not particularly remarkable in itself, but through it, I found what I hope will be the solution.\"\n\nNeither Chaim nor Teléah spoke. Their expressions showed such eagerness, Mackenzie could only hope he'd been right in assessing the plan, that he wouldn't disappoint them and himself.\n\nHe rose from his chair and began to pace. He hadn't tried the idea out loud, batted it off anyone except his own critical sense. Would it have unmanageable flaws? \"I lost my way last night, was completely disoriented, not knowing what direction I'd gone or how far. After I exploded the bomb--\" he heard Teléah gasp, but he went on, \"I would have been glad to forget all about the Moho. I was sick and tired of the whole thing.\" He turned to Chaim. \"In my call to you I must have sounded as if I was at the end of my rope. I wanted to run as far away as I could. Instead, I ran upon a little observatory tucked away in the countryside.\"\n\n\"An observatory?\" asked Teléah. \"The university out-station?\"\n\nHe nodded at her. \"I didn't know anything about it; I just wanted directions back to Houston. I couldn't keep running. An old retired professor showed me in and led me to the telescope. He'd been tracking a supernova, photographing it.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Teléah, nodding. \"There's been a sighting recently.\"\n\nChaim looked puzzled. \"Go on, Mac,\" he urged a little impatiently.\n\n\"I listened to him talk about his work, the tracking, the interrelationships with other astronomers who contributed their observations to form a picture of the phenomenon. He spoke about the supernova itself. I know,\" Mackenzie said to Teléah, \"this sounds elementary to you, but as he spoke, I felt curiously free of my problem. For the first time in weeks, my mind cleared, seemed to empty itself into the night sky, and then I began to understand something that brought me to the solution. Something about time. Getting away from the immediate. The professor mentioned the steady state of the universe, that matter didn't die but changed into a different form for a different purpose.\"\n\n\"That's right, Mackenzie,\" Teléah said with a slight smile.\n\n\"Right now, the Moho exists in a timeless state as long as no one taps into it. If we break the story, and the nations of the world use the source, it will lose that status and become a commodity for fuel, being changed into another form of matter. But what if the knowledge of the Moho is used for positive control? The Moho becomes a beacon of knowledge, put to a different use from the one we've been thinking of. In other words, we don't tap into it for fuel, but hold it over the heads of A-OPEC. Ironically, this knowledge has been the basis of blackmail all these years by my former boss for his own profit. That's been one of his hidden pressures to maintain the conspiracy.\"\n\n\"I'm lost,\" Chaim laughed. \"This conversation is getting too esoteric for me. I'm a practical man, looking for practical results, if possible. You say your boss--your former boss has been using the knowledge of the Moho for profit? I know the original intent in the conspiracy was to gain diplomatic influence and continue the oil profits for the United States. That day passed long ago. How could this Fox person have used the knowledge for his own benefit?\"\n\n\"I'm a little slow myself. I should have guessed how Fowler could have profited from silence if it was used as a threat over the heads of A-OPEC. It was a dangerous game. In his arrogance, he didn't realize how dangerous it was for an individual to play ball with the Arabs. How easy it would have been for the Arabs to have murdered us all. Maybe a little suspicious, of course, but if Fowler had been too greedy, it would have certainly been within the power of Arab cutthroats. Now, with my break from the conspiracy and the records we have, we'll have the means to keep those nations in line, if Israel agrees to the plan. They won't be able to threaten Israel with dissolution or the United States with economic chaos.\"\n\n\"What about this Fowler's hold over them? He won't know that Israel has the chips. Will he continue to profit from the circumstances as before?\"\n\n\"Probably not, if we assure the Arabs that he has no intention of releasing the information on his own. He'd never damage his own reputation, even for money. He told me himself it's all been a huge bluff. But that won't be our concern anyhow. OPEC will have to make up its own mind about what to do about Fowler. Soon Israel will have the means and political leverage to control the situation. As far as the Arab nations are concerned, Israel will be only too happy to set up a deep sea drilling operation.\"\n\n\"How is this plan of yours to be accomplished?\" Teléah asked. \"What action needs to be taken?\"\n\n\"Your government leaders will have to meet secretly with the leaders of A-OPEC and explain the facts: That unless they cooperate with Israel and the West--no more threats using Israel as a pawn, no more price fixing of oil, no more wars against Israel--Israel is prepared to drill to the Moho with the rest of the world soon on its heels.\" Mackenzie looked from one to the other. \"That's our bluff. We wouldn't want to do it either. It would be difficult to pretend such knowledge came by an educated guess, that Israel simply took a chance and drilled in just the right place.\"\n\nHe smiled at Teléah. \"We've already speculated on the terrible effects of an unlimited supply of oil for everybody. But it would be a disaster for OPEC. It's a gamble, for sure, but one we have to take. Don't you see? The Moho can become a shield against aggression, both military and economic, that can remain in place virtually forever--or at least until the world's available fuel runs out.\"\n\n\"By that time,\" offered Teléah, \"maybe all nations can be trusted to place realistic controls on its use, or an effective alternate source will have been discovered, invented, whatever.\"\n\n\"Exactly. It's because Israel is such a small, cohesive, homogenous country that it's the logical instrument for carrying out the plan. This plan needs the force of a national policy behind it--no single individual could pull it off with impunity.\" He remembered Fowler and his double dealings, the deaths of Joe and Jeremy, his own departure from G and F. \"But a nation like Israel could.\"\n\n\"My God,\" said Chaim. \"This knowledge would give Israel unbelievable leverage. But the question is--how can a meeting be arranged posthaste? Setting it up would require diplomacy at its best,\" He looked thoughtful. \"First of all, Israeli leaders must be convinced of the viability of the plan. They are not known for rapid decision making. Though the current situation should act as a potent spur.\"\n\n\"You'll be especially needed to persuade those who have the authority to set up a meeting in Israel. If that flies, then I'll meet with your leaders to explain the details. You should be there and Teléah, too. With her knowledge as a scientist to back me up, your leaders should understand and move quickly on it.\"\n\n\"I would think,\" said Teléah, \"your participation in the original conspiracy, your sense of loyalty, misguided though it was, will help explain much as to why it was covered up in the first place and why it must remain so.\"\n\n\"There's only one thing wrong with the plan that disturbs me,\" Mackenzie said. \"I wanted more than anything to advance the knowledge of my own science--geology. But I know this isn't the time. There are too many unscrupulous leaders of nations who'd think nothing of polluting the planet or bringing down the economy of the United States. Someday, I expect there will be a greater regard for the planet's natural resources. Don't get me wrong. I believe they should be used to help the human race, but they need sometimes to be guarded for a time when people and nations can husband their use more effectively.\"\n\n\"Very eloquent,\" Chaim commented. \"I can see you'll do well in making your case.\"\n\nMackenzie grinned. It was true; he'd been practicing a bit for his presentation. \"Then you agree this just might work? That your nation will see the advantages of holding the Moho over the Arabs?\"\n\n\"I cannot say for certain, but I think the advantages are self-evident.\" During Mackenzie's explanation, Chaim had been so absorbed he'd forgotten even to sip his drink. Now he took a large gulp of brandy and water, making a face. \"Anybody else need a refill?\"\n\nMackenzie declined more Scotch, wishing for water. He, too, took a large gulp when it was handed to him. \"Where do we go from here?\"\n\n\"We must move very fast,\" Chaim said. \"I'll talk with the Consul-general first thing in the morning. He's at Temple this evening. Sometimes I regret my lack of piety, but tonight I'm glad I occasionally miss prayers.\"\n\n\"What should I do? Get tickets for Cairo for Teléah and me?\"\n\nChaim thought for a moment. \"We can't risk you traveling commercial using the round-about route through Egypt holding that information.\" He pointed at the briefcase. \"The Hegira is not expelled with the death of one man. They'll be looking for you. I'd advise you not to go to your apartment again until after this is all over.\"\n\n\"But that's impossible. I'll need my things! My clothes, my passport.\"\n\n\"I know. We'll pick up what you need for the trip. I believe it would be best for you to take the diplomatic flight on our own plane, out of Washington. We'll make arrangements to get you to D. C. well guarded. Tomorrow, you must write out a list of what you'll need for--say, two weeks. I should imagine, if everyone goes along with the plan, that it will take that long to arrange a meeting and come to an agreement with OPEC.\" He nodded encouragingly. \"Trust me on this, Mackenzie. Again, we've had more experience with the tactics used by the opposition. You're the only thing standing in the way of the embargo and the threat to Israel. They obviously know of the tape, and they know you're defecting from the conspiracy.\"\n\nMackenzie nodded to Chaim. He was right, of course. He was a marked man and wouldn't be safe if and until Israel and then OPEC accepted the plan. He glanced at Teléah, who was looking at him with an expression that made his heart lurch and filled him with sadness. She wasn't his; she belonged to another man. He suddenly felt adrift and very alone. He massaged his temples with one hand. Mustn't lose heart now. So close.\n\n\"As for the next two or three days, Mackenzie,\" Chaim went on, \"I'm afraid I don't have the space to put you up here. My apartment's quite small, as you can see. Besides, this place may be routinely watched. The hotel, I think.\" He looked at Teléah and then said in a reluctant tone, \"I suppose, you, too, should go to cover. Both of you will go to a safe hotel.\" He went to the telephone on his desk and dialed a number from memory.\n\n\"Josef? This is Chaim. I need two rooms for tonight, Saturday, and--ah, Sunday, I think. Make the reservations in the names of Mr. M. Smith and Mrs. T. Jones. Fine. They'll be over within the hour.\"\n\nHe walked back and forth in front of the other two, swirling the liquid in his glass thoughtfully. \"You'll not be troubled by unwelcome visitors there. All the guests are screened thoroughly. Drop-in visitors are not allowed access to the rooms without permission from the occupants.\"\n\n\"What about my things?\" Teléah said. \"If I'm to be going back to Israel immediately, I'll need my work as well as my personal items.\"\n\n\"You, too, should make out a list of what you need for the trip. Be sure and specify where they may be found. What you can live without will be packed up and sent on by a later flight.\"\n\n\"Will we be incommunicado at the hotel?\" Mackenzie thought about the effect of leaving the country with virtually no preparations. But then, who needed to know? He'd cut his traces anyhow.\n\n\"Pretty much so. Inform me whom you wish to contact and we'll check them out. Could be the Hegira has a wire tap on anyone close to you. Is there someone?\"\n\n\"No, just my ex- wife. I'd wanted to see about her, make sure she wasn't getting any more of those threatening phone calls--or worse.\"\n\n\"Be careful when you call her. Don't suggest you're taking a trip. Ask about her security arrangements, if they seem intact. It should be all right.\"\n\nMackenzie nodded. Now everything was moving and moving fast. He was caught up in the momentum, or soon would be after the wait in the hotel. He looked at Chaim, settled once more in one of the tapestry chairs. \"What will happen?\"\n\n\"After I talk to the Consul-general, I have no doubt he will inform the Ambassador in the morning, who should agree that we can waste no time in getting you to Israel. I hope a meeting will be set up the earliest with Israeli leaders. From then on, it's in their hands.\" He spread his own. \"I don't foresee too many problems.\" He smiled broadly at Mackenzie. \"Did I tell you how much I like your plan?\"\n\nMackenzie allowed himself a smile. A lot of ifs before the solution would be in place.\n\n\"Chaim,\" Teléah cried. \"What you were telling me a week or so ago, about a nation being allowed to exist. This makes sense of your thoughts.\" She turned to Mackenzie. \"Chaim had proposed that a nation cannot expect to exist simply on the goodwill of others. That it either must be seen as having something valuable to contribute or so innocuous as to be non-threatening.\" She laughed, her hair swinging back as she raised her chin. \"What a beautiful irony.\"\n\nMackenzie agreed. \"If truth were told, I expect many young nations in history survived because of secret deals with powers that could have wiped them out.\" He glanced at his watch. Eleven-thirty. \"It's getting late. Maybe we should call it a night.\"\n\n\"Agreed,\" said Chaim, rising. \"We'll take care of your car until you return from the trip. I'll ring for a limo to take you to the hotel. You can leave your briefcase in the hotel safe. Don't worry,\" he said at Mackenzie's frown, \"extremely important documents have been protected before in that safe.\" Chaim went to the bar and selected a bottle, and then fished around in the cabinet below until he found a large, brown envelope. \"You may need this,\" he said, handing them both to Mackenzie.\n\n\"Napoleon brandy,\" Mackenzie murmured, looking at the label. \"That's very thoughtful.\"\n\n17\n\nThey arrived at the hotel past midnight. Teléah couldn't help but wonder what the management was thinking about the clandestine arrangements with them using obviously false names. Probably used to strange people arriving at all hours. The hotel was fairly small, quite modest-looking, really, not far from the Consulate. At the desk, the clerk (Josef?) greeted them with a smile and in a matter-of-fact tone and asked for their signatures. \"For the record,\" he said in explanation. Teléah self-consciously signed, \"T. Jones.\" Then Mackenzie signed the bogus name and handed him the briefcase to be put in the hotel safe. Josef took the case into the office and returned with a receipt for Mackenzie. He handed them their keys and called to someone in the office who relieved him at the desk.\n\n\"Come this way,\" he said, leading them to an elevator where he punched a button for the third floor. There were only four floors to the hotel. It was old but not dingy, with freshly painted walls and thick carpeting. Josef didn't speak the entire time, but occasionally he gave them a smile. They stopped first at Teléah's room. He unlocked it and walked in ahead of her, turning on lights.\n\n\"Lovely,\" she said with genuine appreciation. A far cry from her current living conditions. This seemed the height of luxury, a odd, unexpected treat before she left for her country.\n\n\"Will you be all right?\" Mackenzie asked her, standing in the doorway. He held up the package from Chaim and raised his eyebrows in a mute invitation.\n\nShe nodded and looked at him a moment longer than necessary. They spoke to each other in that moment. She felt herself go soft inside, her habitual defenses broken down so quickly and completely she nearly gasped aloud.\n\nHis face was very solemn, the face of a warrior relaxed after a battle and now ready for love. It flashed into Teléah's mind that this was a moment in time yet outside of it. Just so would a galaxy viewed in a telescope have lived out a cycle of deaths and births of stars in the time it took to transmit its light. We are seeing each other as we were and will be all at once. She knew they would have a life together, full and harmonious, if only for a few days, maybe just hours. The world would go on outside their rooms, but they would be encased in a time of their own making.\n\nAfter the men left to go to Mackenzie's room next door, Teléah twirled in the middle of the room in an excess of joy. She felt strangely free. Then she stopped at looked around her. The room was larger than most modern hotel suites. Old fashioned in its decor with real antiques, a sumptuously cushioned couch and chair, and a four poster bed. She investigated a large wardrobe and found a television set and shelves for storage. Her anxiety about going back to Israel had been relieved by the sudden change in plans. If all went well, and she was sure it would, Chaim would handle the arrangements admirably.\n\n\"We'll have you out of there in no time,\" he had promised her as he settled her in the limo, \"so don't take chances now.\" He gave her a meaningful look before he bent to kiss her on the cheek. He knew. He'd known from the beginning what would happen between Mackenzie and me even if we didn't.\n\nShe spent some minutes freshening up in the bathroom, a large room with art deco fixtures and decor--obviously reflecting the era when the hotel was built. Then she was ready to go to him. She gave herself a last fleeting look at the mirror over the desk. Her excitement was visible. She laughed out loud and left her room with the key in her pocket, hearing the click of the lock behind her.\n\nWhen Mackenzie opened the door, he'd taken off his tie and jacket, but he seemed a little discomfited. Maybe, she thought, he was afraid he'd misread her look. Surely he knew. But it may have been only the lightening change in their relationship that caused that momentary uncertainty. His expression of disbelief was somehow endearing to her. He was not arrogant about his attractiveness to her, that she had chosen him.\n\n\"Our rooms are similar but not stamped out of a mold,\" she said in a conversational tone. She sank onto the couch, her skirt fanning out around her.\n\nHe watched her, his own movements suspended until he recovered his poise and offered her a drink of Chaim's brandy. While pouring the drinks into the glasses, he said, \"I feel as if I'm on vacation. The stressful time of being alone with the problem's behind me. Everything that's been consuming me for the last few weeks is out of my hands.\" He turned and smiled at her. \"I know there's a lot ahead, and I've got a part to play, but somehow I'm relieved of responsibility. It feels good.\"\n\nShe took the proffered glass. \"Thank you. Yes, it's in the hands of fate or God, whatever you prefer. You've done what you could, even made your offering, so now you can only wait.\"\n\n\"Offering?\" He sat down next to her on the couch.\n\n\"Giving up your position, your work. It's in the nature of a sacrifice, isn't it?\"\n\nHe nodded. \"I suppose so. But I didn't feel that way. I gave it up willingly as if clearing out debris from my life.\"\n\n\"I know just what you mean. I wonder if all the heroes we read about had a similar experience. It appears they gave up their precious possessions, sometimes their lives, so gladly. Maybe they were like you--changed inside to where their former life seemed irrelevant.\" She took a tiny sip of the drink and made a face. \"May I have some water with this, please.\"\n\nHe jumped up and took her glass to the desk which held the drinks tray. He poured an ounce or two into her glass from a pitcher of water. \"Will this do?\" He again took his place beside her.\n\n\"That looks perfect. You say you feel as if you're on vacation. I feel as if we're marooned on a desert island.\" She looked at him through slightly lowered lashes. \"It doesn't seem real. Maybe something terrible, wonderful will happen. Maybe we'll--\"\n\n\"Teléah.\" He put his own glass down and circling her shoulders with one arm, he turned her face toward him with his other hand. \"Teléah?\"\n\n\"Yes, Mackenzie.\" She closed her eyes and he kissed her.\n\nShe moaned a little at the touch of his lips. His kisses were urgent, hungry. She felt her own passion rise in a way that was unknown to her experience.\n\n\"Why now?\" he said between kisses. \"Why me now?\"\n\n\"Oh, my God,\" she said, falling back from him, \"you poor darling. I don't quite know. I suppose I've wanted you for a long time, but I was afraid to start something that we couldn't finish. Tonight came the realization that what was between us would transcend our ordinary lives. We have these days of grace. We should accept them for what they are and no more.\"\n\nHe unfastened the strap that held the halter of her dress. \"You beautiful thing,\" he murmured. \"What an exciting woman you are.\" He kissed her breasts and as she dropped her head back, he covered her neck with kisses.\n\n\"Whatever the reason,\" he said, caressing her breasts, \"I'm eternally grateful.\"\n\nThey rose together and helped each other remove their clothing. Mackenzie gazed at her as she stepped out of her dress to reveal her naked body. Clasped in each other's arms, they fell onto the bed, the world forgotten.\n\nSavor each moment. Like unfolding the petals of a flower.\n\n\"You are,\" she panted at last, \"a wonderful lover. I've never felt like this before.\"\n\n\"That's the way I planned it.\"\n\n\"And you?\"\n\n\"I'm fine. Wonderful. Again?\"\n\n\"Yes, oh, yes.\"\n\nFinally spent, she nestled in his arms, his heart pounding beneath her. \"We seem to have an affinity,\" she said, giggling a little.\n\n\"Sure do, sweet.\" He kissed her ear. \"I didn't doubt we would for a minute.\"\n\n\"When did you think such a thing?\" she demanded. She felt aglow with happiness and contentment.\n\n\"Every so often, when I let myself think about you and me together. The fact is, I don't know what brought you to me tonight, but I won't ask. I've wanted you since I first met you.\" He gave a short laugh. \"Physically, yes, I was attracted, but tonight, tonight, there at the Consulate, I knew I wanted more than that and you seemed to suggest I couldn't have it.\"\n\n\"Oh, Mackenzie,\" she cried in a hushed voice. \"Don't speak of the future yet. You'll spoil this. Don't be sad.\"\n\n\"So it's back to Israel and your life before Mac Haber.\"\n\n\"How can it be anything else? I have nothing to look forward to except my children, it is true. But for their sake, I try to live my life the best I can.\"\n\n\"I understand that. God knows, if we love our families, we do what we must to keep them whole and happy.\"\n\n\"So you really do understand?\"\n\n\"I know you have a life beyond these four walls. If this is all we can ever have, I'll have to understand. But don't count me out yet. My plans are still in the making.\" He stroked her body slowly. \"I'm a planner by nature, I guess. It's hard for me to live for the moment and not think ahead. The thought of you without me. . .\"\n\n\"You must have guessed, Mackenzie, that I've had a strange marriage. When my parents immigrated to Israel, we met a young soldier in the refugee camp. He saw something in my parents that reminded him of his own, he said. They had died in the fight for independence. It was 1949 and I was seven years old. I thought Aaron Davin was the handsomest, bravest man I'd ever seen. He was thirty-two years old and a captain in the Army.\n\n\"I grew to depend on him, especially after my father died two years later. He treated me like a doll that he could play amusing games with and then put aside. But what more could I expect from a grown man? He was very helpful to my mother and me. We depended on him to get us supplies, even find for us a better place to live. Later, as I grew into a woman and was getting my education at the university, he surprised me by proposing marriage. I think my mother had a hand in that, for Aaron was a typical bachelor, shy and diffident around women.\"\n\n\"You loved him?\" Mackenzie asked.\n\nShe nodded and turned to look at his face so close to her. She began to smooth the lines on his forehead, but he caught her hand and kissed the palm. \"Always I loved him as a good, dear friend. I owed him a great deal. We both tried at first to bring more to the marriage beyond our mutual esteem and affection. But eventually, we grew apart. Aaron was essentially . . .\" she hesitated, \"--a passionless man. He occupied himself with his soldiering, and so I had to compensate with my children and work. Together, yet separated, we remained until his death.\"\n\n\"But it's a new day now, a different time for you,\" he said flatly.\n\nShe smiled at him. \"All I know is that I couldn't resist you forever. It perhaps was wrong loving you like this. We're not joined in a bond of marriage. We come from different worlds. I can't believe in a future for us.\"\n\n\"Don't say that, darling. This seemed inevitable, right for us. We can't help our feelings. And I won't believe this encounter marks the end for us.\"\n\n\"I seem to have been taken out of myself this evening in a way I can't explain. All those considerations that kept me in check with you this past year were forgotten, unimportant.\" She raised up on one elbow. \"But darling, I know they will return, maybe even as soon as the light of day, maybe as long as our departure for Israel. Right now, I only want you, and as obvious as it sounds, I need you.\"\n\n\"Oh, God,\" Mackenzie breathed, moving toward her. \"Don't let this end too soon. You're healing me.\"\n\n\"I'm glad.\" She shuddered as a spasm of desire ran through her like electricity.\n\nLater, he murmured sleepily, \"I could get very attached to you, you know.\"\n\nShe turned over and snuggled, spoon fashion, into the curve of his body. \"I know. Me too. Later, we'll talk. G'night.\" But after his breathing slowed in sleep, she lay awake. This was all her fault. He had been strong, not pushed her, even while his eyes beseeched her. She had advanced their relationship herself. And as close as they seemed now, she could only feel a kind of despair for any future for the both of them. Her life was in Israel. Chaim was right about her devotion. She sighed and tried to empty her mind. Such a train of thought would solve nothing and get her nowhere.\n\nMackenzie awoke to the dim light of morning that seeped in around the heavy closed curtains. For a moment, he couldn't think where he was. Then the events of last night swept over him, and he reached for Teléah. Nothing but covers, neatly pulled up. He chided himself for falling asleep so quickly after their lovemaking. He must have been exhausted. He hoped he hadn't disappointed her. He checked his watch. It was 7:05. She'd obviously gone back to her room, probably to shower. Couldn't change clothes yet. The Consulate would have to bring over their things soon.\n\nWhen he called her room, he expected she might not answer if she were in the bathroom, but on the second ring he heard her voice.\n\n\"Good morning, sweet,\" he said.\n\n\"Hello, sleepyhead. Are you well rested?\"\n\n\"I had some disturbance last night that kept me awake for a while, but who's complaining?\"\n\nShe laughed. \"Are you ready for breakfast?\"\n\n\"Give me fifteen minutes. I'll have to get cleaned up. Lord, I don't have a razor.\"\n\n\"Yes, you do. Look in the cabinet in the bathroom. It's equipped with razor and shaving cream, a toothbrush and toothpaste, shampoo, other necessary items. No clothes, unfortunately.\"\n\n\"They must have a lot of unexpected guests here.\"\n\nShe laughed. \"Knock on my door when you're ready.\"\n\nHe found everything as she'd suggested. He put on his suit trousers and the dress shirt he'd taken off last night. They were badly wrinkled. Could he go to the hotel restaurant rumpled like this?\n\nBut when she opened the door to him, he saw a small table and two chairs in the middle of her room. Breakfast had been laid out, the items covered. \"What a great idea!\" he exclaimed.\n\n\"You look as disheveled as I.\" She held out the creased skirt of her dress ruefully. \"I wasn't in any shape to be out in public.\"\n\n\"This is much nicer anyhow.\" He shook out the napkin. \"We'll have to make out our lists this morning. I wonder when we'll hear from Chaim?\"\n\n\"I expect it to be soon although he's probably in deep conversation with the Consul-general right now. Then the Ambassador will have to be informed and convinced that this is not a--a . . .\"\n\n\"Cockeyed scheme?\" Mackenzie grinned. \"Somehow, I believe that if Chaim was taken with it, others will be. He doesn't strike me as someone given to romantic notions without a basis of reality.\"\n\nTeléah munched a piece of toast thoughtfully. \"No, he's a pragmatist.\" She looked sober.\n\n\"What's wrong?\"\n\n\"I was wondering what will happen to you--or me--or Israel if they don't like the plan.\"\n\nHe reached across the table and captured her free hand. \"Don't borrow trouble, as my mother used to say. Let's keep a positive outlook until we know for sure.\"\n\n\"Yes, you're right.\" She looked at him. \"Tell me about your mother, your family. I know you're from Kansas, but that's about all I know.\"\n\n\"I lived in a small town in the middle of the prairie. My father was German, my mother Scottish. They ran a drug store where my father was the pharmacist. I haven't any brothers or sisters and like you, my father died when I was young--fourteen. I went straight through the University of Kansas on an ROTC scholarship. Tricia and I married after I got my bachelor's and while I was in the Navy I got my master's in geology. You know about my son, Rick.\"\n\n\"You were happily married for many years?\" she asked, pouring milk from a pitcher into her coffee.\n\n\"I thought so. I thought we were like any other married couple. The bloom had gone from the roses but I believed we had a solid enough marriage. But I was mistaken. Tricia was looking for something else. She had an affair that I just heard about which ended the marriage. It was with Fowler, of all people.\"\n\n\"Oh, Mackenzie! How terrible! Your boss betrayed you with your wife? What a terrible thing to hear even after so many years.\" Then she squeezed her eyes together as if in pain. If only I could believe we have a future. But nothing is clear right now except that my children mean everything to me.\"\n\n\"I understand. I, too, want the best for my son and to keep him as close to me as possible. My son isn't reconciled to the breakup even after all these years. I have to take some of the blame for the failure–too absorbed by my work, perhaps. I can't blame Tricia totally for what drove her into Fowler's arms. But Fowler was merely taking advantage of the opportunities. He was greedy for another woman. I don't want you to think that's my motive for loving you.\"\n\n\"Love?\" She gave him a half-smile. \"We've never mentioned love between us. But I do love you, Mackenzie,\" she said softly. \"I wish we could always be together, but how can that be? I think you must also put your mind and heart to other purposes.\"\n\n\"I've never met anyone quite like you. If something could be worked out between us you'd marry me?\"\n\nShe gave him a steady look. \"I don't know. My own heart says yes. If the circumstances of my life were different, perhaps I could. My children on their own. I don't see that as reality.\" She took a deep breath and changed the tone of her voice. \"And now, you must tell me your future plans for a career.\"\n\n\"Oh, that.\" He gave a brief laugh. \"I'd hardly call it a career at this point. I want to get back into geology, become a consultant for interesting projects around the world. I've thought about seeking support from businessmen I know who are always looking for investment possibilities. Diamonds, gold, uranium, perhaps.\"\n\nTeléah seemed to be considering. \"I've heard of a newly formed syndicate in Israel that is raising funds to explore another rather mysterious region. There are others besides the Moho!\" she laughed. \"The Dead Sea Rift Project. I don't think it's connected with the government. You might like to meet with the organizers. I know one of them quite well.\"\n\n\"I'd be interested, yes. I believe I can make a new life that will suit me better than the old one. I never wanted to be an executive too far removed from earth science and exploration. I hope I can do it and make a living. At least I plan to try.\"\n\n\"I'm sure you can do it. But if you need income until everything falls in place, you can always teach.\"\n\n\"Yes, and I rather like that, too. Not petroleum geology, though. I found that to be disconcerting, having to acknowledge the textbook theories of hydrocarbon origins when I knew better.\"\n\nA ring of the telephone interrupted them. Teléah answered it and listened for several minutes, nodding and saying, \"Yes, I see. Excellent. We will. Thank you, Chaim.\" She hung up and said, \"Everything is all set in Washington anyway. We leave tomorrow. Chaim will personally conduct us to Israel where we'll meet with representatives from the government. Those here who've been told of the plan are excited about it.\" She clasped Mackenzie's arm. \"You've done it! I knew it would work.\"\n\n\"At least the first stage seems to have been successful.\" He gave her a kiss. \"You've been a wonderful mainstay for me through all this. Believing in me, encouraging me. There were times these past two weeks when I felt like running away. Only the thought of you kept me going.\"\n\n\"Darling! Everything hinges now on your presentation to the officials in Israel. Do you have any qualms?\"\n\n\"Not now; it's going along as I hoped.\" He looked at his watch. \"Did Chaim say when he'd be here? We need to prepare our lists of what we'll need for the trip.\"\n\n\"In one hour. I can hardly wait to get out of these clothes.\"\n\n\"Now, if you want.\" He caught her hand as she playfully raised it toward his face.\n\nBack at the desk in his room, Mackenzie pondered over his list of items needed for the trip to Israel. It was a difficult task not knowing for sure how long he'd be there and where he'd be staying--at a hotel? safe house?–but, he thought, throwing down his pen, surely he could buy any personal items he might have forgotten. Was Chaim making too much of this cloak and dagger stuff? Then he thought of Davros and Jeremy and decided not.\n\nHe was preparing to take his list to Teléah's room when a knock sounded. \"Who's there?\"\n\n\"Chaim.\"\n\nHe admitted the Israeli, looking bandbox smart in a pin striped suit. Mackenzie saw Chaim glance at the rumpled bed and momentarily tighten his lips. Had he been to Teléah's room and seen something different in her look? Well, what difference did it make, really. They were all adults, and if he had a problem with it, he surely wasn't so small as to screw up the deal for spite.\n\n\"I thought I'd check on you personally and see how you're faring.\" He looked around the room. \"Comfortable?\"\n\n\"Yes. It's fine. I've wondered if there's a workout area or swimming pool at the hotel.\"\n\n\"You need some exercise?\" There was not a hint of irony in his voice.\n\n\"Might be a good idea,\" Mackenzie said coolly.\n\n\"In the bottom level there's a small pool and gym. Help yourself.\"\n\n\"I've put swim trunks on my list for that purpose. You have everything set for the trip, Teléah says.\"\n\nChaim flung himself into a chair. Mackenzie noticed that he wasn't as chipper as he first appeared. Lines around his mouth were evident; his eyes had pouches under them. \"I've been up virtually all night talking to first the Consul-general, then in conference calls to Washington and finally Jerusalem. We are a suspicious bunch by nature and long experience.\"\n\n\"But they finally believed in my plan?\"\n\n\"Let's say they seem willing to try it. No one can deny the urgency of the situation. Everyone's waiting for the other shoe to drop--from either A-OPEC or the Western alliance. Will Israel be thrown to the wolves or not?\"\n\nMackenzie seated himself. \"I hope I'm not being overly optimistic, but I believe it will work, particularly since I know the Arabs have been paying big money for thirteen years to keep the lid on the discovery.\" He gave a soft laugh. \"They must be furious now. They thought they had it under control and they have to be anticipating that it might slip away. They just don't know how it will happen.\"\n\n\"You're sure this Fowler won't try to pull out all the stops if the Arabs discontinue funds?\"\n\n\"I can't be absolutely sure, of course, but there's really no percentage in Fowler releasing the information. It was all a bluff, as he told me, and I believe him. He'd have to incriminate himself, remember.\"\n\nChaim sighed. \"Israel must be strong, dogged, really, in presenting the deal to the Arabs. They cannot flinch from the possibility of having to release the information to the world. Even knowing it could have serious diplomatic, and in your case, personal results. That's my real concern.\"\n\n\"Yes, I see what you mean. A poker face to go along with the hand. Well, from my perspective, I won't be in the oil industry any longer, so my part in the conspiracy may pass virtually unnoticed. If Israel is forced to pull the plug on the Moho, then the U. S. will have to take its lumps, bad as they may be. Gravely and Fox will go down in flames, Fowler's lack of integrity will be exposed, and the former administration will suffer at the hands of historians.\" He gave a weak smile. \"Let's just hope that will never come to pass.\"\n\n\"I'm counting on it not to.\" He rose from his chair and stretched. \"God, I'm tired. I hope I can get some sleep before we take off tomorrow. Let me take care of your needs for the trip right now. We'll move quickly and quietly to retrieve your personal items. Should have them . . .\" he checked his watch, \"in about two or three hours, I judge.\"\n\n\"Thanks. I'll be glad to get out of these clothes.\"\n\n\"We'll pick you up tomorrow at 3:00 in the afternoon. From Houston we'll fly to Washington in the Lear and transfer to the diplomatic flight.\"\n\n\"When will we arrive in Israel?\"\n\n\"I believe the arrival time is 1:30 p.m. or thereabouts Jerusalem time on Monday.\"\n\n\"I'll be ready. One other thing. Where will I be staying in Jerusalem? It might make a difference as to what personal items I bring.\"\n\n\"At a place similar to this. We consider it a safe house, but it's equipped for traveling guests. You should be comfortable. Not quite all the amenities as this place provides, for example, no restaurant or swimming pool, but you'll be furnished meals in your room.\"\n\n\"Will Teléah--\"\n\n\"I think she'll be able to go to her home.\" He gave Mackenzie a look that contained a suggestion of a smile. \"She will have a guard, of course, but her role hasn't been determined, we don't think. Just the fact that you're traveling together wouldn't necessarily implicate her, too.\"\n\n\"I see. That makes sense. But you think I'll have to hole up for the duration of the talks?\"\n\n\"In a manner of speaking, yes. But that doesn't mean you'll not be invited to private homes where we can assure you of a measure of security.\" He took the sheets of paper from Mackenzie. \"Thank you. I'll send a man over with these items as soon as possible. His name is Yitzhak.\"\n\nAfter Chaim left, Mackenzie dialed Tricia's number and waited hopefully several rings before hanging up. He hoped all was well with her. If the Hegira tried to force his hand by pulling any funny stuff with her, their plan could go up in smoke. Why hadn't he insisted on protection for her from the Israelis? It was a problem. Tricia didn't need to be brought into this at all. He remembered a neighbor of hers who might know if she'd gone away and looked up their number in the phone book.\n\n\"Marge? This is Mac Haber. I was trying to get in touch with Tricia about some business matter and I can't reach her. It seems a bit early for her to be off and running.\"\n\nThe neighbor laughed. \"She left last week for a tennis camp in Florida. Not that she and her group will get much of a workout, if you know what I mean.\"\n\nMackenzie laughed dutifully. Tricia and her friends were among the idle rich who didn't even play hard. \"Fine. I'll talk to her later then. Thanks, Marge.\"\n\nShe was all right, then. He still believed an attack on Tricia or Rick would defeat the purposes of the Hegira, who wanted silence more than anything.\n\nHe looked up Rick's itinerary in his pocket organizer and dialed the number using his telephone credit card. They were in Greece now. The hotel clerk rang Rick's room and mercifully Rick's voice came across the wire.\n\n\"Rick! How's it going?\"\n\n\"Hi, Dad. What's up?\"\n\n\"Nothing much. I just wanted to see how you're getting along. Having a good time?\"\n\n\"Terrific. Only a couple of weeks left.\"\n\n\"Say, Rick. I, ah . . . if you need to reach me for any reason the next two weeks, leave a message on my recorder at home. I won't be at the office.\"\n\n\"Business trip?\"\n\n\"Not really. I'll explain later. Just remember to leave a message at my place. I'll check messages periodically and get back to you.\"\n\n\"Sounds mysterious, but O. K.\"\n\n\"Everything going all right, you say?\"\n\n\"Fine. Yeah, it's great. I won a hundred dollars at Monte Carlo!\"\n\n\"Wow! But you managed to tear yourself away just in time.\"\n\nRick laughed. \"I didn't have any choice. Steve's folks hustled us off.\"\n\n\"Take care, fella. I'll see you when you get back.\"\n\n\"Thanks, Dad.\"\n\nHe was fine. Mackenzie felt another burden lift from him.\n\n18\n\nAfter Mackenzie's belongings arrived, sooner than Chaim had indicated, he went for a swim and light exercise workout. He started to go to his room, but instead knocked on Teléah's door. She had wanted to make some phone calls to her professors and write thank yous to Houston friends who had entertained her during her visit.\n\n\"You look fresh,\" he commented, as she showed him in. She wore a navy and white knit outfit--sailor style that made her look younger, gayer.\n\n\"I feel much better.\" She leaned toward him and gave him a kiss. He caught her to him briefly and kissed her back. \"Don't get too close. I've been in the pool and exercising some. I'll get cleaned up and then we'll go down for lunch. It's getting on towards 1:30. Sound all right?\"\n\n\"Wonderful. Just knock when you're ready.\"\n\nIn thirty minutes they were descending the three floors to the lobby, talking quietly about the upcoming trip.\n\n\"You must be excited to be going home at last.\"\n\n\"I'm ecstatic!\" she exclaimed. \"I was home, you remember, for the holidays, but it's been almost six months now. I get a lump in my throat when I think of how much I've missed in my children's lives. Was it worth it, I sometimes ask myself?\"\n\n\"Sacrifices always seem to be part of the deal.\"\n\n\"But is it right ever to sacrifice a relationship?\"\n\n\"You felt it was an important next step, apparently.\"\n\n\"With Aaron gone, I had to provide the main income, if not all. I'm not tenured and could never be without a doctorate.\"\n\n\"Well, then. That's a reasonable justification, isn't it?\"\n\nShe stepped off the elevator ahead of him, but then waited and took his arm. \"Reason doesn't remove the qualms. Not when I think about us either. All my brave talk last night!\"\n\nHe pressed her arm against his side but didn't say any more. He'd cautioned himself not to plan too far. Everything was in a jumble, his whole life turned upside down. He took a deep breath. Take each day as it comes.\n\nThey both ordered chef salads. Mackenzie was pleased when the waiter brought out a serving board with a loaf of freshly baked bread. He looked around the small room, rather dark with shuttered windows and subdued lighting. Others were eating, however, even at this hour. They'd passed so few people in the hallways and lobby, he'd begun to wonder if they were the only guests. Maybe others like them were practically confined to their rooms.\n\nThey'd just ordered coffee and Mackenzie was considering desert when Josef hurried up to their table and bent his lips to Mackenzie's ear. \"We've had an incident. Please come with me, both of you.\"\n\nMackenzie stood up. \"Ready?\" he said to Teléah, quirking an eyebrow at Josef.\n\nShe stood up without a word, giving them hardly more than a questioning glance. Mackenzie placed his hand in the small of her back and gently guided her through the tables, following Josef's progress to the back of the restaurant. He glanced around but saw nothing out of the ordinary. They went through swinging doors and almost into the kitchen, but Josef turned into a corridor and walked swiftly ahead until he reached a room marked \"Janitorial.\" He let them in ahead of him.\n\n\"What goes?\" asked Mackenzie.\n\n\"Yes,\" Teléah said. \"What's happened? Is there some trouble?\" Her eyes again had that fearful look that Mackenzie dreaded to see.\n\n\"I think you should talk to Chaim about it. I've notified him, but I had to agree to hide you out until we're sure the danger has passed. Don't, whatever you do, let anyone in this room. It locks, as you can see.\" He tried the lock, a simple switch on the knob. \"It won't hold back anyone determined, but we think we'll have this under control in no time.\"\n\n\"Can't you tell us more?\" Mackenzie said, exasperated. He'd be damned if he'd hide in a closet. \"I think I'm going to have to check this out for myself. Teléah can stay here. But for God's sake tell me what's going on.\"\n\n\"Well,\" Josef hesitated and then looked toward the closed door. \"Someone broke through our security this morning. We didn't catch on until he'd gotten loose in the hotel. He entered as a delivery man, but he never checked out. When we called the food service that was supposed to have sent him, they had already called the police. A van had been stolen.\"\n\n\"Oh, no!\" Teléah cried. \"So he's here, looking for us?\"\n\n\"How do you know he's after us?\" Mackenzie asked.\n\nJosef tilted his head speculatively. \"You're our most sensitive guests at the moment. The fake delivery man could have been Arabic. He spoke to my assistant first. Everyone must check in at the desk. Then we open the service entrance back here if they are legitimate. His credentials seemed in order but he never went to the kitchen after he was admitted at the back.\"\n\n\"So he could be anywhere.\" Mackenzie thought for a moment. \"I doubt that he's after us personally, but of course I may be mistaken. I suspect he's after what's in your safe. Are you sure it's O.K.?\"\n\n\"I'm positive of that!\"\n\n\"What's being done to find him?\"\n\n\"A search, floor by floor. Your rooms were checked first. But he may be lying in wait for you to return. I'm terribly sorry about this. I don't think this has happened before. They must be very determined.\"\n\n\"They are. Still, if he's just one man, I want to help.\"\n\nJosef shrugged. \"I can't stop you. You'll have to face Chaim yourself.\" Josef opened the door and stepped out cautiously.\n\n\"You wait here, sweet,\" Mackenzie to Teléah in a low voice. \"I'll be back as soon as I know something.\"\n\n\"Oh, be careful, darling,\" she whispered. They kissed briefly.\n\n\"What was he wearing?\" Mackenzie asked Josef as they retraced their steps through the restaurant.\n\n\"A blue uniform with a cap. He may have stripped it off. Look for anyone who appears to be in the wrong place. The restaurant is clean. I checked when I came in to get you.\"\n\nHe again examined the faces of those sitting at tables and nodded. \"Let's go to your floor again. There's some utility areas that might provide a waiting space.\"\n\n\"Good. If he's waiting for me, I'll play decoy. I'd like him found as soon as possible.\"\n\n\"Chaim is on his way with two security men. I'd better wait by the safe and guard it. I'll send Robert up with you.\" He snapped his fingers at the young man behind the counter. \"Go with . . . ah, Mr. Smith to his floor, please, Robert.\" Then he whispered to Mackenzie. \"He'll be armed. He's been a soldier.\"\n\nFor a moment Mackenzie was startled and his expression showed it.\n\n\"Yes, Mr. Smith,\" said Joseph quietly. \"Nothing must be taken for granted.\"\n\n\"You're right, of course. Let's take the stairs,\" Mackenzie suggested to the determined looking young man accompanying him. \"He may be watching the elevators. Maybe we can come up on him without his knowing it.\"\n\nStepping out onto the third floor hallway, Mackenzie saw no sign of life. \"Where are the utility rooms?\" he asked Robert.\n\nRobert pointed to a corner halfway down the corridor.\n\nThey crept slowly forward, both glancing behind them occasionally. He might have been on the stairway halfway up to the next flight of stairs. As they turned into the hallway where the elevators were located, they saw a door partially open. Mackenzie pointed to it and Robert nodded.\n\nThey crept up behind the door, but their movements had not gone undetected. The door closed suddenly. \"Come on out,\" Mackenzie called. Muffled shots blasted three holes through the door. \"You haven't got a chance,\" Mackenzie said. \"We could shoot up that closet like a sieve. Give it up.\"\n\nThe door opened slowly and a gun was tossed out. \"I'm unarmed, unarmed. Don't shoot,\" the man said. He glanced hatefully at Mackenzie. Then, like lightening, he sprung at Mackenzie and got his hands around his throat. Robert circled the struggling men, positioning himself to gain a clear shot at the intruder.\n\nThudding footsteps preceded the arrival of two men with guns drawn. They were wearing uniforms of the Israeli Consulate. They clubbed the man around his head and shoulders until he loosened his death hold on Mackenzie.\n\nIt was over. Robert looked solicitously at Mackenzie who was rubbing his neck. \"Are you all right? I should have done what they did. I kept thinking to shoot him, but I was afraid--\"\n\n\"Never mind. Thanks,\" he said to the security men.\n\nChaim arrived, puffing a little. \"Who have we got here?\" Then he saw Mackenzie. \"Good heavens! Didn't they warn you?\"\n\nMackenzie shrugged. \"I thought if I was along, we'd smoke him out quicker.\"\n\n\"Foolish man. Brave but foolish.\"\n\n\"It worked, though. He was waiting down this corridor for me to get off the elevator, I suppose. We sneaked up on him from the stairway.\"\n\n\"Come along,\" Chaim said to the man, pinioned between the two guards. \"We need to get to the bottom of this. Let's go to the office and decide what we must do about it.\"\n\nOn the way downstairs in the elevator, Mackenzie asked Chaim. \"Aren't you going to call the police?\"\n\nChaim made a face. \"Publicity. We may have to deal with this another, quieter way.\"\n\n\"No, no!\" the man cried. \"Please, I beg of you, don't kill me. I'll tell you what you want to know. They hired me.\"\n\nThe elevator stopped at the main floor. Mackenzie turned to Robert. \"Will you tell Teléah all's well? Maybe she'd better go to her room.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" agreed Chaim. \"We'll take this fellow out of sight and see what we can find out.\" He paused for a moment and then said in an abashed tone, \"I deeply apologize for this incident ever occurring, Mac. I believed we were more prepared for something like this, but I see we've grown complacent in our stay in the United States. You won't find this kind of snafu in Israel, I can assure you.\"\n\n\"If I hadn't lived through a similar episode only two days ago, I wouldn't have believed it possible myself.\"\n\nTeléah rounded the corner from the back and, spotting Chaim and Mackenzie, came up to them. \"Chaim! What was all that about? Is someone really trying to get to Mackenzie and the tape?\"\n\n\"Tried,\" Chaim said. \"We're embarrassed to say someone with a gun gained entrance and lay in wait near Mac's door.\"\n\n\"Who is it?\"\n\n\"We'll possibly know more after we question the intruder.\" He turned to Mackenzie. \"I still must caution you against any more heroics. I'll send Robert up with you to your rooms. Then we'll conduct a thorough search in case he admitted a confederate. Remember always to call for help if you suspect unusual goings-on--that goes for tonight and tomorrow as well as when you are in Israel.\"\n\n\"I'm not trying to be a hero. I'd just rather get them before they get me. Knowing someone was hiding in this place, I would have been a prisoner of fear. I can't live like that.\"\n\nChaim nodded. \"Still. . . .\" He gave a small salute to Mackenzie and a smile to Teléah and went off toward the office.\n\n\"So we're quite secure now?\" Teléah asked.\n\n\"Only one person, we hope, came into the hotel. They found a van outside. Our man was discovered in a closet on our floor. He'd planned on me coming up on the elevator and was caught looking the wrong direction.\"\n\n\"How frightening!\"\n\n\"Let's hope that was our excitement for the day.\"\n\nRobert came from the office area looking pleased. \"We can go to your floor now.\"\n\n\"Do you think he was operating alone?\"\n\n\"He says he was. He's very frightened, a novice at such things. He claims to be an ordinary emigré who was manipulated by the Arabic community into committing murder for the Jihad.\"\n\nThey stepped onto the elevator. \"What will happen to him?\" Mackenzie asked.\n\nRobert took a deep breath. \"It won't be hard to find some immigration violation and turn him in so he can be sent back. The gun, for instance.\"\n\nHow different the world seemed, Mackenzie thought, from the days when all he was concerned about was business, bottom lines, and managing a stable, secure group of people.\n\nHe and Teléah settled down companionably in his room after Robert left them. The young man had drawn his pistol and examined every closet and hidden space in both rooms, pronouncing them clean.\n\n\"I feel discouraged by all this,\" Teléah commented. \"You must feel a bit dashed yourself.\"\n\nHe nodded. \"Just when I started to relax. Say, do you think Chaim will pay us any more visits today?\"\n\n\"I doubt it. He probably has his hands full making arrangements for that man and for our trip.\"\n\n\"Let's send for some drinks.\" Mackenzie called room service and asked for his favorite Scotch and a gin and tonic for Teléah. \"Now maybe we really can relax.\" He moved to her side on the couch and bent his head to her lips. She responded so hotly he had to draw back, laughing. \"Don't you think we'd better wait until after the waiter makes his appearance.\"\n\n\"I suppose you're right. I'm so hungry for you, your touch, I don't want to leave you alone for a minute.\"\n\n\"Teléah, honey, how can you talk of us separating when you feel that way?\" He looked into her eyes, darkly violet in the light from a nearby lamp and, for a brief moment, troubled in their expression.\n\n19\n\nMackenzie had been to Jerusalem for a meeting with his Mid Eastern managers four years earlier. He looked with interest out the window of the car as the limo wheeled through the outskirts of the city and saw with relief that it was much the same as it had been his first trip. He thought he'd be greeted by something different. Maybe chaos, maybe deserted streets. But not this ordinary scene. The military was, as usual, in evidence, soldiers in small groups, armed to the teeth. Plenty of civilians around, too. They seemed to be absorbed in everyday affairs, judging by the surging traffic and the crowds in shops and on the sidewalks.\n\nMackenzie was to stay outside of town in a well guarded compound. He hoped Chaim was right, that he wouldn't have to be totally confined for the length of his stay. Once he'd passed on the records and, God willing, the crisis faded, he'd be safe.\n\nTeléah was excited, pointing out places of interest. \"That road leads to the Wall and the old town. And over there,\" she gestured, tugging on Mackenzie's sleeve, \"up on that hill, is my children's school. We live near Hebrew University.\"\n\nHis first trip had been confined to business affairs conducted at a hotel. There weren't many sightseeing opportunities. Certainly no guide like Teléah. Now, as they drove through the sprawling city, he looked with interest at the whitish stone houses everywhere. They were clean and bright and all were festooned with lush flowers and decorative trees. A sense of lightness pervaded the place, very much a Mediterranean atmosphere. When he'd been here before, he'd stayed at a hotel near the Wall. The crowded, ancient streets inside the Wall had seemed to invest the area with mystery. The culture of America--Houston in particular--must seem brash, raw, to people like Teléah, who lived among two-thousand-year-old edifices--reminders of the land's ancient and dramatic history.\n\nSeeing the hills and more hills on all sides, he smiled at a sudden memory: He was a youngster in summer Bible School; the teachers had illustrated the lessons with flannelgraphs of the Holy Land and characters from the Bible. He'd been fascinated by the palm trees and rounded hills. He was a flatlander, living first in Kansas and then Houston. The only peaks he knew were the crests of waves. In this city of hills, he felt its charm--and its danger, as if he might be caught unaware by what was beyond the next rise of land.\n\nThey dropped off Teléah first, and Mackenzie saw a house that appeared much like homes in the American Southwest or even Florida. It had a neat, small courtyard behind its front wall, filled with flowers and olive trees. As Teléah alighted from the limo, she gave Mackenzie a look that lingered on his features a moment as if she were intent on memorizing them. Then, assuring Chaim of her willingness to be of service in the upcoming meetings, she walked quickly to the front door. Two teenaged children ran from the house to greet her. An attractive, silver-haired woman stood in the doorway smiling--her mother, no doubt.\n\nThey'd not had a chance on either of the plane trips to do more than speak of trivial or world shaking matters--nothing personal. For one thing, to Mackenzie's chagrin, they hadn't sat together. On both flights, Chaim had insisted Teléah be in a window seat while he commandeered the one next to her.\n\nBut, Mackenzie thought with satisfaction, Chaim had not had Mackenzie's time alone with her at the hotel in Houston. He couldn't take that from them. Saturday afternoon, following the scare, they'd been relaxed and drowsy from lovemaking when the telephone sounded its jarring note. It was near six o'clock. Chaim was on the other end and was suggesting dinner for the three of them. \"Something in the nature of a send off, something also as an apology for this afternoon's trouble.\"\n\n\"What about us leaving the hotel?\" Mackenzie inquired not very enthusiastically. He wasn't in the mood for hide and seek, and he wasn't very interested in dining or anything else as a trio. \"Isn't that a bad idea?\"\n\n\"We'll go to a private club in the limo. Nothing to worry about.\"\n\nThey dressed and were ready by 7:30, Chaim ringing both rooms to announce his arrival. Mackenzie met Teléah in the hall as she emerged from her room. She wore a short white dress with appliquéd lace flowers edging the neck and sleeves. It set off her rich coloring and emphasized the slim line from hip to ankle. He complimented her and she gave him a mock once-over.\n\n\"You look nice, too, but you always have been dressed in a suit ever since I've known you. Do you realize this afternoon was the first time I'd seen you in casual clothes?\"\n\n\"And what about last night--or early this morning, I should say?\"\n\nShe laughed outright. \"I stand corrected.\"\n\nThey held hands in the hallway and the elevator, but discreetly drew apart when they reached the first floor. Chaim was standing opposite the elevator door when it opened.\n\n\"Teléah! How charming you look.\" He whipped out from behind his back a small florist's box and presented it to her. \"And your dress--perfect. I'm glad I decided on red and white,\" he said.\n\n\"Roses and camellias.\" She kissed Chaim on the cheek. \"How very thoughtful.\" She turned to Mackenzie and showed him the corsage, wrinkling her nose comically as if to say, \"This is Chaim's way. It means nothing.\"\n\nMackenzie was sorry he hadn't thought of it himself, although she would have been hard put to wear two corsages. He hadn't considered a gift for her, even if he'd had the opportunity to buy one. It was better, perhaps, that they had no mementoes to mark this encounter.\n\nMackenzie was familiar with the dinner club where Chaim took them. It had cloistered seating, a dim light, and attentive waiters. He'd been somebody's guest there another time. The menu was limited, however, so Mackenzie ordered his usual standby--prime rib. Wine flowed liberally and Chaim grew considerably more jovial than Mackenzie had ever seen him. He must be feeling some encouragement, relief maybe.\n\n\"You've had a good idea, Mac,\" he said quietly, leaning toward Mackenzie. \"I'll give you that.\"\n\n\"I'll just be glad when it's over. Really over.\"\n\n\"I will be glad as well,\" said Teléah. She gave Mackenzie a secret smile of love that caused him to look away. Too much! He was fairly good at dissembling, but his thoughts were running constantly to their time alone at the hotel.\n\nChaim hadn't noticed the silent by-play, or appeared not to. \"We think the Houston terrorists are at bay now. The new man at your remote drilling site has undoubtedly left for parts unknown. His description has been posted everywhere, but it will probably come to nothing. The only concrete evidence is the scrawled word 'Hegira' and unless a connection can be made–\" He shrugged. \"Then the incident at your office,\" he held up two fingers, \"and number three today at the hotel. And he a witless newcomer. I feel their organization must be getting down to bare bones, rather desperate. Unless they are bringing in new people from elsewhere. But that's unlikely. There's probably just the chief honcho left, and he'll not risk an encounter.\"\n\n\"What about when we arrive in Israel?\"\n\n\"I know it seems dangerous to an outsider, but so does Washington, D.C. to some. We'll take care of you there.\"\n\n\"And then there are the G-men who came to my apartment. I suppose they'll consider the warning to have been effective if they find out I've left my job and don't make anymore waves.\"\n\nChaim nodded, munching on his salade nicoise. \"Most unpleasant to contemplate if they would have taken action against you. More than ever I'm happy to go along with your plan.\"\n\nThe evening turned out to be more agreeable than Mackenzie had expected. He appreciated the wit of Chaim and reveled in Teléah's beauty. He even allowed himself to bask in a contentment and sense of harmony that had become rare through the years. It wasn't just that he'd shed some of his responsibilities; he believed he was heading in the right direction. The best thing he could have done was to leave Gravely and Fox without a backward glance. He hadn't allowed himself to indulge in further thoughts about his decision; perhaps like Lot's wife he'd not get away intact if he acknowledged regret.\n\nLater, back at the hotel, Teléah came to his room in a nightgown and robe. She was pliant and he was tender. But eventually, they made love with an urgency that betrayed what was at the forefront of both their minds. This might have to last, and they pressed their bodies together as if capturing a rose between the pages of a book.\n\n*\n\nA meeting with the Israeli leaders was set for Wednesday at a government building. Mackenzie was told very little, other than the group would be small--the Prime Minister; the President of the Knesset; the chief of security, the Mossad; and the Minister of Defense. Those arrived from America would include besides Mackenzie, Teléah, and Chaim, the Israeli Ambassador to the United States.\n\nMackenzie had prepared his presentation well on the long trip from Washington. He knew it had flaws--the idea might not work if the Arab OPEC nations considered the Moho to be a bluff and called Israel's hand. It wouldn't guarantee against random terrorist attacks or even non-oil producing Arab nations from trying to cause trouble. On the other hand, oil spoke in a demanding tone, and those rich in it would have a greater say.\n\nMackenzie was picked up by the limo, which then stopped for Teléah. He caught her hand when she settled beside him.\n\n\"Everything all right at home?\" he asked.\n\n\"It's wonderful to see the children again. They've grown so much I could hardly believe it. Are you comfortably quartered?\" she asked.\n\n\"Yes, not bad. It's not like being a free agent, of course.\"\n\n\"No. As I am not.\" She gave him an unblinking look that seemed to beseech his understanding and then turned her attention to their progress into the city.\n\n\"Will we pick up Chaim and the Ambassador?\"\n\n\"They'll meet us there,\" she said.\n\nIn fact, Chaim was waiting near the entrance when the limo wheeled into the drive. He pulled open the door with a smile.\n\n\"Ready?\" he asked, first to Mackenzie, then Teléah.\n\nThey followed him through a labyrinth of corridors to a large meeting room set up with a long oval table and padded chairs. Two men were already in their places. They were drinking coffee and one was smoking. They looked up and rose to their feet for introductions.\n\nWhile Mackenzie and Teléah were being presented to the President and the Minister of Defense, two other men entered who proved to be the Prime Minister and the Ambassador.\n\n\"Now we only have to wait,\" the Prime Minister said, \"for our security man. He likes to be the last to enter a room.\" Everyone laughed at the obvious in-joke.\n\nCoffee was served all around. As soon as the head of Mossad came in and closed the door behind him, the Prime Minister completed the introductions and remained standing at the head of the table.\n\n\"I will preside over the proceedings for this unusual meeting. Because of the critical nature of the material to be presented, each of us from the government has changed our schedules to accommodate our guest's. We have no agenda; only Mr. Haber has that.\n\n\"We understand this information could prove vital to the security of Israel.\" He nodded at the Ambassador, who rose.\n\n\"I have only recently made the acquaintance of Mr. Haber, so the Vice-consul of the Houston Consulate, Chaim Ben Hoshen, will enlarge upon the introduction.\"\n\nChaim stood up and began speaking about how Mackenzie Haber had appeared in his office through the intervention of Mrs. Davin, a mutual friend. She as a fellow scientist, had become privy to explosive knowledge. Chaim then deferred to Mackenzie. As he was the one involved and had a great deal at stake, such as his life, he needed to be the one to talk about it.\n\nMackenzie rose to his feet, but the Prime Minister held up a restraining hand.\n\n\"Since you have much to say, and we want you to be as comfortable as possible, please remain seated if that suits you.\"\n\nMackenzie murmured his thanks and began his presentation by looking from one Israeli official to another. He saw expressions of either alert interest or studied impassivity. As he told the tale for the third time, he looked not once at his notes. The project, the scientific theory, the discovery, and the cover-up. This was the tough part. He had to fight to keep his voice from faltering, and once, after he told of the clandestine meeting in Washington, he paused for several moments, frowning as he fought to gain control. This had to be done, he reminded himself.\n\n\"Please, go on, Mr. Haber,\" the Prime Minister urged.\n\n\"When OPEC embargoed us for the first time in '73, I fell through the safety net of rationalization. I approached my boss with the idea of releasing the information, but he refused categorically. I was on my way up in the company by then. I knew I couldn't harp on the subject, so again I stifled my sense of what was right and went along.\n\n\"Then again in 1978, during what became the second oil crisis, I had a similar attack of conscience but was once more told to shut up. Again, I did what I was told. Something must have been building inside me, though, for when I heard last month about the threat of embargo, with Israel as the prize, I balked. From that time, I became a marked man.\"\n\nSeveral of the men nodded encouragingly.\n\nHe explained how he was alone in his conviction that the remainder of the conspirators should come forward, about his need for proof, at first thwarted by his trip to the NSF, the threats from Hegira and the circumstances of first Leo's and then Joe Scudder's deaths. At the mention of Hegira the Prime Minister and Chief of Security looked at one another.\n\n\"I almost gave up after the letter bomb incident.\" He talked about his fears and confusion, his rambling drive that led him to the observatory outstation. As he explained how the answer came through the words of the astronomy professor, he glanced at Teléah, who gave him a smile.\n\nHe went on to describe his adventures in obtaining the wireline tape, which he removed from his briefcase.\n\nThe room was utterly silent.\n\n\"Before I allow you to examine it, though, I must clearly state my position. The conditions may have been explained to you, but I'll go over them to make sure we're on the same wave length.\"\n\nHe told the sober-faced men surrounding him that no word was to leak to other government officials, to the press, to friends or to members of their families--to no one except the few Arab leaders they would select for the meeting.\n\nIsrael was to be the repository for explicit information on the location and composition of the Moho. As far as Arab OPEC was concerned, Israel would not release the information with the proviso to leave Israel alone to rule itself and to quit using oil as a bargaining tool for their own purposes.\n\nHe again examined their expressions face by face. \"Any objections?\"\n\n\"Excuse me for asking this,\" commented the President of the Knesset, \"but why shouldn't Israel simply mine the region itself? If we know there's oil there, we could have an unlimited supply for us and for others in the Western Alliance.\"\n\nMackenzie started to answer, but the head of the Mossad broke in impatiently. \"Why would we want to do that? We'd destroy our leverage. Only if we keep the knowledge to ourselves can we beat them at their own game.\" He said no more, but his look said, \"Idiot!\"\n\nMackenzie nodded his agreement while the President, abashed, muttered, \"I see, I see.\"\n\nThe Prime Minister looked around the table at the others. \"I think I can speak for everyone and say that we all understand.\" Then he said in a gentler tone, \"We have as much at stake as you, Mr. Haber. Now, let's take a look at the proof of your claim, if we may.\"\n\nMackenzie began to spread out the wireline tape. He explained how it recorded the drilling and how to read the graph. \"There are two other copies that I know of, the original in a very top secret file in Washington, and another copy in a safe in Houston. Neither will see the light of day, I promise you that.\"\n\nEveryone huddled around to examine the record, plying Mackenzie with questions.\n\nFinally, they took their seats again and Mackenzie folded up the tape and secured it in the briefcase.\n\nThe Prime Minister had to tap his glass with spoon to call them to order, the Israelis excitedly speaking about the problems and possibilities. \"Any further questions for Mr. Haber?\"\n\nSeveral hands went up, and Mackenzie dealt one by one with much the same concerns he had asked himself countless times.\n\n\"Do you feel comfortable,\" the Prime Minister asked Mackenzie, \"with us approaching the Arabs? They might refuse our offer.\"\n\n\"It's a gamble,\" he agreed, \"but I can't come up with a better plan. If you can, I'll be glad to hear it.\" He waited, but there was no response.\n\n\"I think, gentlemen,\" said the Prime Minister, \"if you have no further questions for Mr. Haber, we'll excuse him and Mrs. Davin from the room while we confer.\"\n\nMackenzie and Teléah were shown to the door by Chaim, who directed them to a lounge area. Mackenzie had left behind his case with the wireline tape in Chaim's possession.\n\n\"How do you feel, Mackenzie?\" Teléah was walking in step with him down the corridor.\n\n\"Fine. Couldn't be better, my life hanging in the balance, my fate hinging on the judgment and mercy of six men who don't know me from Adam.\" He gave her a wry grin, but his tone was serious. He still felt jittery, keyed up from the presentation.\n\n\"Ah,\" she said softly, touching his arm, \"you are sinking a bit in your confidence. That's only natural after what you've been through. Don't worry, darling, you were very convincing.\"\n\n\"That's what I hoped for. I'm glad you think so. If it works, we'll all be home free. And I won't be in the horrible position of betraying my country as I would if it leaks out.\"\n\n\"It seems to me the earlier conspiracy was the betrayal.\"\n\n\"Yes. That's true.\" He paused at a snack machine inside the lounge. \"Want something?\"\n\nShe made a negative movement of her hand and watched him select a Coke. He steered her over to a table beside a window that overlooked a courtyard. A few other tables were occupied with people taking morning coffee breaks. Soft music played over an intercom, which muffled the low tones of their conversation.\n\n\"If all goes well,\" Teléah said, \"what will your plans be? I know you intend to start your own business, but how soon? Have you thoughts as to where it's to be located?\"\n\nHe took a deep breath and let it out slowly. \"Until a few days ago, I didn't even know I was planning to make a change. My new plans will take much more thought before I can say for sure.\" He looked around as if he could see the cities of the world. \"I may want to settle somewhere far away from Houston. If I'm going to do deep earth exploration, I'll need to be where that sort of thing is in demand.\"\n\nShe smiled and put her hand over his. \"You know I wish you every good fortune. No one deserves it more than you. I plan to put you in touch with the Rift Consortium, remember, as a start.\"\n\nHe looked down, moved by her touch and her words. He couldn't be around her too closely for very long. It would never do unless he planned to follow in Fowler's footsteps and be a homewrecker.\n\nWhen Chaim reappeared within thirty minutes, Mackenzie was surprised.\n\nChaim nodded, his face a mask. He wasn't giving anything away prematurely. \"Yes, it was quick. Let's go back.\" He held Teléah's chair for her and took her arm as they walked back to the conference room.\n\nMackenzie scanned the faces around the table as he took his place. All but the Minister of Defense were looking at him. He had decided that if a majority could meet his eyes, it was a go.\n\nThe Prime Minister smiled, giving a small shrug. \"I can say we have all agreed after weighing the risks and the possible benefits to go along with your plan. As you Americans say, no contest.\" There were a few chuckles around the table and a repositioning of pens and notebooks as tension was released by his words. \"We must proceed on this. The chance for peace outweighs any other considerations. You've answered our questions in your presentation. So all that remains is the wireline tape to be turned over to us.\"\n\nMackenzie opened his briefcase and removed the record. \"Take it with my blessing. I want only for this to be over so I can get on with my own life.\"\n\n\"Exactly,\" agreed the President of the Knesset. Others nodded sympathetically.\n\nMackenzie stood, ready to depart from the room, Teléah had also risen. But the Prime Minister held up his hand. \"One moment. I know you've asked for nothing for yourself. But we've agreed you deserve a reward, something that will help make up for your sacrifices, shall we say. Some monetary token of appreciation to help you begin your new life. We would like to present you with a small settlement--even a paltry one, considering what the cost has been to you personally and the costs you will ultimately save us from.\" He handed him a sheet of paper naming an amount in seven figures to be put in a bank account of Mackenzie's choosing. It was signed by each representative of the Israeli government. A princely amount, that was for sure.\n\nMackenzie sighed. The thought of compensation, reward, had never entered his head. He looked around helplessly, unable to react, his mind spinning. Someone began the applause, he didn't know who, and soon the men had all risen and were clapping vigorously, smiling at him. He nodded his own thanks, feeling un-hero like, and turned to shake Chaim's outstretched hand. In the confusion of handshaking and excited talk that followed, he didn't notice until later that Teléah had left. But he would see her this evening. They'd arranged for him to have a quiet dinner with just her and her family. He looked forward to meeting her children and seeing how they lived. He had confidence that the crisis would end soon, that the Israeli officials would shortly be in touch with the oil ministers to give them the terms of the proviso. There really wasn't anything now to hinder things getting back to a relative normality. Oh, various terrorist organizations would always nip at the heels of their avowed enemy, rulers and despots and tyrants would take over various OPEC countries and swagger and threaten Israel periodically, but those in the know would enlighten them and give them instructions as to their own well being. It should work out as he envisioned, Mackenzie thought to himself. It must work out.\n\nEpilogue\n\nAs Mackenzie envisioned, the deal between Israel and the A-OPEC nations was inviolate. Not since that time in the late spring of 1980 has Israel been attacked in an all-out war by any country in the region, most of whom were breathing down its neck prior to 1980 in a series of incursions and military strikes designed to wipe Israel off the face of the earth. Oil prices, though occasionally spiking upward due to inflationary influences or other international concerns, inevitably have sunk back in short order to more reasonable rates per barrel.\n\nIf any oil companies, state sponsored or private, have since breached the mysterious region called the Moho in their off-shore drilling with the new deep well equipment, they've not advertized it. The 2010 British Petroleum spill in the Gulf of Mexico suggests from both the depth of the drilling operation and the tremendous pressure of the blowout that the gas and oil may have emanated from the Moho itself. And so it goes, a continuing conspiracy perhaps for the ages, or at least until the earth's hydrocarbon deposit is exhausted or the need for petroleum has been eliminated by another cheaper and less invasive energy source.\n\nMackenzie and Teléah eventually did marry, spending most of the year in D.C. while Ireina and Ben attended American prep schools and colleges, the rest of the year in Israel. Mackenzie's fortunes gradually rose as he made a name for himself in heading up geological ventures that produced riches for the investors around the world. He was joined in the firm by his son, who took over the business when Mackenzie retired in 2006.\n\n<http://www.jeanneirelan.com/>\n", "meta": {"pile_set_name": "BookCorpus2"}}
{"text": " \nThe Offices of M. Coopersmith\n\nCopyright 2012 by James Hampton\n\nSmashwords edition\n\nAll rights reserved.\n\n# THE OFFICES OF M. COOPERSMITH\n\n1\n\nHow well do you ever really know somebody else?\n\nIt depends.\n\nWith some folks it might take years to understand them. Others you may not fully comprehend in a lifetime.\n\nBut where a few unique individuals are concerned, you can learn all you need to know in a single night.\n\nJust ask Christopher Taylor and Samantha Gibbons, two high school students from the small town of Summerville, Georgia. They'll tell you.\n\n***\n\n\"So, what does that guy actually do?\"\n\nAlmost any conversation regarding M. Coopersmith would include this question sooner or later—usually sooner. But a lot of people have a hard time confessing they simply don't know something. They can admit they aren't sure, but clueless? That's not so easy.\n\nLet's say you were to visit the town of Summerville, Georgia, and ask the man or woman on the street just what sort of business went on at the Offices of M. Coopersmith. Here are some of the answers you would likely get:\n\n\"I heard he's a lawyer.\"\n\n\"I heard he owns a lot of real estate.\"\n\n\"I heard he's an accountant.\"\n\n\"I heard he's a stock broker.\"\n\nBut nobody would be able to tell you for certain. And how could they? M. Coopersmith himself was notorious for being vague. \"A little of this, a little of that,\" was his basic reply to the question of what he did for a living. Yes, he might throw in a bit of information on his past investments: maybe his onetime stake in a local feed store, or his former ownership of a tract of timberland in the northern part of the county. Good Southern manners usually kept the townsfolk from pressing him further. And probably for that reason, more than any other, the kindly M. Coopersmith remained a mystery. Even his first name was a matter of conjecture. Old timers remembered how a Maxamillien Coopersmith had once occupied the same small brick building, constructed circa 1898, at the corner of Bridgewell and Tanner Streets, in downtown Summerville. They just assumed this was his son or maybe his grandson now in possession of it. When these old timers were young, it seemed their parents had made reference to a certain Magnus Coopersmith who worked out of that building. So maybe this was a Max, Jr., or a Michael, or some other guy in the family whose first name started with M.\n\nMystery aside, there was nothing sinister in the aspect of M. Coopersmith, nor even odd. He was seldom seen in public, but longtime residents usually recognized him.\n\n\"I think that was M. Coopersmith,\" someone might say after he had passed by.\n\nAnd yes, maybe it was M. Coopersmith: a lean man with neatly-combed silver hair, greeting pleasantly all those whose gaze he met; the nice fellow who lived in a large white Victorian house in the old part of Summerville, and who conducted his business, whatever it was, from the unremarkable building at the corner of Bridgewell and Tanner. The casual observer could have been forgiven for not noticing his workplace at all. It looked like just another house, aside from one detail: on its oak-shaded front lawn stood a post with a thin wooden sign hanging from it; that sign read, in plain black lettering, \"Offices of M. Coopersmith.\"\n\n2\n\nIt's going to be a great night, thought Christopher Gerald Taylor as the final bell rang and the curtain fell on yet another monotonous day of school. He stuffed his Algebra book and all the papers that went with it into his backpack, then zipped it up and headed for the door.\n\nIt would be a great night because at long last his wish would be fulfilled. Not his wish to meet the mysterious M. Coopersmith; about this, he cared nothing at all. As a lifelong resident of Summerville, he was well aware of M. Coopersmith's penchant for secrecy. It just wasn't a burning desire of his, the way it seemed to be with the town gossips, to know how the man earned a living. No, what fired Chris' red-hot teenaged heart was the idea of going to the Offices of M. Coopersmith with Samantha Gibbons, the lovely junior who also happened to be his direct superior on the Summerville High School Yearbook Committee. For so very long he had dreamed of spending some quality alone-time with Samantha. And now, finally, he was on the verge of getting it. Chris had first seen Samantha in the hallway when he was a freshman and she was a sophomore. From that moment, he was smitten. Who was this beautiful girl with the long shiny auburn hair and the deep blue eyes? While there were a number of girls in his own grade who caught his attention, it was Samantha Gibbons to whom his thoughts returned most often, even though she hadn't known him at all until a few weeks ago. But Chris knew her, all right. Since that initial glimpse sixteen months ago, he had been collecting snippets of information on this alluring older woman: he had pored over his freshman yearbook and found her name; then he had looked in the section for club and team photographs and found her extracurricular activities. When he saw that she was on the Yearbook Committee, he hit upon, or at least thought he'd hit upon, a marvelous way of getting better acquainted with Samantha while at the same time padding his college application.\n\nHow did Chris rate his chances with her? Well, he wasn't unrealistic. Much to his chagrin, Samantha had a boyfriend, a handsome football player in his senior year, and Chris understood that the odds of him winning her over, at least initially, were pretty steep. Chris was tall and very thin, almost skeletal by his own reckoning, with shaggy brown hair and large dark eyes, and he bore a special burden of self-consciousness over what he considered an Adam's Apple that was much too big for his neck. He played no sports and was a solid but unexceptional student. So Chris had a pretty good handle on his shortcomings, real and imagined. But he had to try, didn't he? And there were other ways he felt he could compete with her football stud. For one thing, he thought he was a pretty funny guy. Other kids, or at least other sophomores, seemed to agree. He prided himself on being conversational. He treated people with kindness. Maybe, just maybe, if Samantha saw what a good person he was, and overlooked the insignificant difference in age, he would have a chance with her...slight, yes, but a chance.\n\nHere was the challenge: Chris would have to find an opportunity to show her just what a charmer he could be.\n\nAnd here, finally, was the solution: the Committee's faculty advisor, Mrs. Huggins, had suggested that the more experienced hands on the Committee, like Samantha, pair up with newer members, like Chris, to jointly solicit ads. Then, as if by magic, Chris and Samantha had been made into a team.\n\nYes, magic was the only explanation.\n\nChris had joined the Yearbook Committee a mere three weeks ago, and the Committee's meeting yesterday afternoon had been the first he attended. Never saying a word, Chris had taken a seat at the table around which sat the eleven members of the Committee. There had been one seat left open when the meeting convened: the seat next to him. Samantha had been late arriving; Chris feared for a moment that she had quit. But then she glided into the room, and, saying nothing to the boy, took the chair beside him.\n\nShortly thereafter, Mrs. Huggins made her proposal, which was accepted by the Committee (as if they had a choice) and then she simply went around the table, pairing compatible students together. She got to Chris and Samantha last.\n\nSo it was magic. It had to be.\n\nWhen the meeting was over, Chris turned to Samantha and stammered, \"I'm...looking forward to working with you.\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" Samantha said, though her voice was non-committal, \"me too.\" Then she pulled out her cell phone and started on a text message...or acted like she was starting one, anyway. Chris didn't know. But even if she was trying to ignore him, they were going to have to work together. They were going to have to interact. And during these periods of interaction, Chris planned to do everything he could to get her interested in him.\n\nMost businesses in Summerville mailed a check to the Yearbook Committee. But a small minority preferred to have a representative from the Committee visit in person, to hand the money over. M. Coopersmith belonged to the latter group. It was a surprise to many people, given how reticent he seemed in dealing with the general public. But that was the way he liked to handle his contributions, and each year the Committee honored his request for at least one or two students to visit him in his office before any money was proffered.\n\n***\n\nSamantha had thrilled Chris earlier this morning by catching him in the hall and letting him know she would be going to the Offices of M. Coopersmith at four-thirty and that he was welcome, or at least she was giving him the option, to accompany her. She had barely gotten the words out before he took her up on her offer. Now he waited in the school parking lot, backpack at his feet, anxiously looking for Samantha and hoping she had not forgotten.\n\nToday was probably the first day that Chris Taylor had ever been glad not to own a car. Plans for getting one were in the works, of course. He was due to start his job as a bus boy at the Summerville Country Club next week, and if he could put a decent amount of money down, then his parents would help him with the monthly payments. Chris Taylor, Sr., was a tugboat captain; his mother, Francis, a Church secretary. The Taylors were a family of limited means, but Mom and Dad meant to give Chris and his two younger brothers the best life they possibly could. Although his house was close enough to school that he could walk each day, nevertheless his parents wanted him to have a car. And maybe there hadn't been one in the driveway on his sixteenth birthday, but someday, there would be. Together, Chris and his parents would make it happen.\n\nNo sweat, though, if it didn't happen today. His lack of wheels meant that Samantha would have to take him with her to the Offices of M. Coopersmith, rather than the two of them just meeting there. She hadn't raised the latter possibility; was that a good sign, a sign that she actually wanted them to ride together? Chris had no idea. But he wasn't about to let the opportunity slip through his fingers. Once he had made her laugh a few times, he believed she would be happy to cart him from place to place. Maybe she would even offer him a ride home tonight.\n\nHe dared to hope, anyway.\n\n\"Hi, Chris,\" Samantha said, finally emerging from the school's main doorway. \"Ready?\"\n\n\"Ready,\" the boy answered. \"How was your day today?\"\n\n\"Fine.\" She walked past him, no doubt expecting Chris to fall in behind her...which he did, without hesitation.\n\nAnd how was my day? Chris thought to himself. Oh, it was fine. Thanks for asking.\n\nSamantha's car was a red Ford Mustang, a sleek and splendid machine, the perfect automobile for her. A pretty expensive model too, but no problem for the Gibbons family to afford, what with her dad, Richard Gibbons, being President of the First Bank of Summerville.\n\nSamantha unlocked the doors and the two of them climbed inside.\n\n\"This is a really nice car,\" Chris told her, shutting the passenger side door.\n\n\"Thanks.\"\n\nSamantha cranked up the Mustang; immediately, the air conditioner began shunting air into the cabin full blast.\n\nShe's barely talking to me.\n\nChris felt his heart sink, just a little.\n\nIs she going to be like this the whole time?\n\nBut maybe he was expecting too much, too soon. It would take about five minutes to get to the Offices of M. Coopersmith. There was still time to get her talking to him. He didn't want to overwhelm her with his personality. Maybe, here at the start, it was just as well that he be reserved.\n\n\"Have you ever met this guy before?\" Chris asked her after they were out of the parking lot and on their way.\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Do you know anybody who has?\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" she said, \"the girl who went to his office last year.\"\n\n\"Who was that?\"\n\n\"Her name was Molly. You don't know her.\"\n\nChris blinked in surprise. What's that supposed to mean? How do you know if I know her or not? I mean, it's a good guess. I don't know anybody named Molly at our school, but still...it sounds like you're trying to cut me off.\n\n\"Okay,\" he said, and looked out the window.\n\nHis heart was really sinking now.\n\nNo offer of a ride home tonight, he was pretty sure.\n\nA few minutes later the Mustang pulled into the four-space-wide, crushed-shell parking lot of the Offices of M. Coopersmith; no other vehicle was present, so maybe M. Coopersmith walked to work each day. But Chris barely noticed anything about the lot or the building. In the time elapsed since their initial exchange, no words had passed between him and Samantha; they had driven in silence. So Chris was borderline-despondent when he got out of the car. He had pictured the two of them talking and laughing on the way over. But the talking had been minimal and laughter, not even a possibility.\n\nAt this point, he wasn't even sure if he wanted to stay on the Yearbook Committee anymore.\n\nSamantha got to the front door of the building first, gave the knob a turn. Her brow furrowed. \"It's locked,\" she said.\n\n\"Locked?\"\n\n\"Yes. Locked.\" Her voice had a sharpness Chris resented. Amazing, how a crush that had built up over more than a year had evaporated in a matter of minutes. At the rate things were going, by the time they were done here at the Offices of M. Coopersmith he wouldn't be able to stand her.\n\n\"All right, so let's try this.\" Chris stepped forward, knocked. He felt Samantha's eyes on him but didn't look at her. \"Maybe he stepped out for a minute,\" he mused.\n\n\"Well, he said four-thirty.\"\n\nThen Chris heard footsteps behind the door. \"Here comes somebody,\" he said to her quietly.\n\nThe door unlocked from the inside, swung out to reveal M. Coopersmith, regal in his bearing yet without haughtiness. He wore a crisp white shirt and red tie. The smile on his cherubic face, with its prominent brow and fleshy cheeks, was not wide, but he wore it with such ease, such naturalness, that one could imagine smiling was something he practiced an awful lot.\n\n\"Had I locked the door?\" he said in a pleasantly deep and sonorous voice, as though his vocal cords were fashioned from oak. \"I'm so sorry. I must have locked it behind me when I came back from lunch.\" He held out his hand to Chris. \"I'm Mr. Coopersmith.\n\nHe went for my hand first, Chris mocked Samantha in his head as he shook with M. Coopersmith. Yeah, maybe it's just because I'm standing closest, but I'll bet you still don't like it. Good.\n\n\"I'm Chris Taylor,\" he said. \"We're the ones from the Yearbook Committee.\"\n\nI'm taking the lead here, Sammy baby. What do you think about that?\n\n\"Good to meet you, Christopher. Yes, I thought that's who you were.\" M. Coopersmith looked at Samantha now, as did Chris. The boy was delighted to see a reddening of her cheeks.\n\n\"I'm Samantha Gibbons,\" she announced, extending her hand.\n\nYou're really mad, aren't you? Well, too bad. You should have been nicer to me. I don't care about riding with you anymore. You can leave me after this. I can walk home even from here. I'd be glad to, actually.\n\n\"Samantha,\" M. Coopersmith said. \"It's a pleasure to meet you as well. Please come inside.\" He bowed as the pair stepped into the lobby. \"And welcome to my office.\"\n\nSo this is how it looks in here, Chris thought, gazing around the lobby, which was minimally decorated to say the least. There were couple of chairs and some generic prints of shrimp boats and flowers. That was about it.\n\n\"Can I offer you any refreshments?\" M. Coopersmith, clasping his hands together. \"I have tea, fruit juice, bottled water...\"\n\n\"I'm fine,\" Samantha said. \"Thanks, though.\"\n\n\"I'm fine too,\" Chris answered.\n\n\"You know, it was a young lady named Molly who came here last year. A very nice girl,\" M. Coopersmith recalled. \"How is she?\"\n\n\"That was Molly Simpson,\" Samantha informed him. \"She graduated. She's at Georgia Southern now.\"\n\nSamantha was regaining control of the visit, which was fine with Chris. He didn't want to antagonize her any more than he already had. He just wanted to get this over with and go home. \"Ah! So glad to hear it,\" M. Coopersmith remarked, turning. \"Follow me, children. I have your check in my office.\"\n\n\"Children,\" Chris thought. Something struck him as old-fashioned, even antiquated, about M. Coopersmith's way of speaking. Maybe, being the reclusive type, he wasn't familiar with how ordinary people talked these days.\n\nThey followed M. Coopersmith into his office, which boasted even less warmth than his lobby. There were no pictures of any kind on the gray walls or the imperious mahogany desk. Humming tunelessly, M. Coopersmith went to that desk, opened the top drawer, and pulled out a plain white envelope with \"Summerville High Yearbook\" scrawled in blue ink on it.\n\n\"Here we are,\" he said, handing the envelope to Samantha. \"There's something you should know. I'm sorry to say that this will be my last year of contributing. I'm retiring, you see.\"\n\nRetiring from what? Chris wondered, but didn't ask.\n\n\"I'm sorry to hear that, Mr. Coopersmith,\" Samantha said. \"We've really appreciated all your support.\"\n\n\"I was glad to do it. But open the envelope and look at the check, will you? Just so I know it's made out correctly.\"\n\nSamantha complied and glanced at the check inside. She gasped. \"Oh, Mr. Coopersmith, this is way too much...\"\n\n\"I thought you might be surprised at the amount,\" said M. Coopersmith, grinning. \"But don't worry. There's a method to my madness. This check is enough to cover the next ten years of contributions for me, assuming ad rates remain the same for your Yearbook. The committee can use it in installments or all at once, whatever you please. It won't be my money after I hand it over, so feel free to decide what you want to do with it. That's because after tonight, I won't be living in Summerville anymore.\"\n\n\"You're leaving? Where are you going?\"\n\nM. Coopersmith winked at her. \"I'll be traveling.\"\n\n\"You're actually leaving Summerville permanently?\" Chris interjected; he hadn't liked being left out of the conversation so far.\n\n\"Oh, I may come back for a visit from time to time,\" replied M. Coopersmith. \"But yes, I think this will be a permanent move.\"\n\nSamantha asked him, \"Who's going to take care of your building?\"\n\n\"I've donated it to the county,\" said M. Coopersmith, \"and I've done the same with my house. I'm sure they'll find good uses for both. I hope they do, anyway.\"\n\nChris' iPhone chimed from his pants pocket: it had received a text message. He pulled it out and saw the message was from his mother. \"Excuse me just one second,\" he said to M. Coopersmith, purposely ignoring Samantha. \"I need to answer this.\"\n\n\"Of course,\" said M. Coopersmith. He and Samantha resumed their discussion, with M. Coopersmith providing some of the possibilities for what the County might do with his property.\n\nChris scanned his mother's text message: \"Stopping at McDonalds for everybody on way home. What you want?\"\n\nChris texted back: \"Nothing. Busy now. Will be home later.\"\n\nHe set the phone down on a small metal table against the wall opposite the desk. He thought she might text him back and didn't want to dig it out of his pocket again.\n\nChris now re-focused on the announcement M. Coopersmith had just made. At the first lull in the dialogue between M. Coopersmith and Samantha, he cut in: \"My grandfather told me this building has had an M. Coopersmith in it since before he was born.\"\n\nM. Coopersmith raised an eyebrow. \"What is your grandfather's name, may I ask?\"\n\n\"Bertrand Taylor.\"\n\n\"That's interesting,\" M. Coopersmith said, rubbing his chin. \"It just so happens that back in, oh, I think it was 1931 or thereabouts, a little red-headed fellow named Bertie Taylor put a baseball through the front window of this office. In those days there was a vacant lot across the street where the local children used to come and play baseball, stickball, and so forth. Quite by accident this happened, of course. But do you know what he did afterward?\"\n\n\"No, sir,\" Chris said.\n\n\"He marched right over and apologized to my grandfather, Magnus, face to face. Brave little boy, don't you think? He said he would pay for fixing the glass with his own money. He didn't try to run away or deny responsibility, as some other children might have done. He just owned up to his offense right then and there. And I have to tell you, my grandfather was highly impressed.\"\n\n\"He didn't get mad?\"\n\n\"Oh, he couldn't have gotten mad,\" insisted M. Coopersmith, \"not at an honest boy like that. He just told young Bertie not to worry about it. Accidents happen. This was during the Great Depression, remember. There was very little work to be had anyway, and he certainly didn't want the child's family to take financial responsibility, especially at such a dire time. So he just accepted the boy's apology and told him to get back to his game.\"\n\n\"That was nice of him.\"\n\n\"Well, it seemed like the right thing to do. At least I'm sure that's what my grandfather thought. Did your grandfather ever tell you a story like this?\"\n\n\"No, sir,\" Chris answered, \"not that I can remember, anyway.\"\n\n\"Tell you what,\" M. Coopersmith said, a sly look coming onto his face, \"next time you see your old grandpa, ask him if his friends ever called him 'Bertie' when he was a boy.\"\n\nChris bit his lip. \"I can't really do that, Mr. Coopersmith. He died three years ago.\"\n\nM. Coopersmith's smile vanished. \"Oh. Oh, well, I'm sorry to hear that. Was it in the paper?\"\n\n\"I'm sure it was.\"\n\n\"I see. Well, please give my condolences to your family.\"\n\n\"Yes, sir,\" Chris said.\n\nAfter a moment's pause, Samantha said, \"Well, thank you for this check, Mr. Coopersmith.\"\n\n\"You're very welcome.\"\n\n\"I guess we shouldn't keep you any longer,\" she added, clearly looking for an exit. Chris nodded in agreement. Although M. Coopersmith seemed like a nice fellow, he also seemed to be the type who could talk for a long time about practically anything.\n\n\"You're not keeping me,\" said M. Coopersmith, confirming Chris' suspicion. Then, glancing out the window, he observed, \"But it is getting late, I see.\"\n\nAs they walked out of the office and back into the lobby, Chris asked him, \"So where will you be traveling to?\"\n\n\"Oh, here and there,\" responded M. Coopersmith, dashing ahead to open the front door for the two of them, \"everywhere.\"\n\nOf course, Chris thought.\n\nAfter a final round of goodbyes, they left M. Coopersmith standing in the doorway. \"Be careful driving home,\" he called after them.\n\n\"How are you getting home from the school?\" Samantha asked Chris as they got into her car. The thought, apparently, had never crossed her mind.\n\n\"I normally walk.\"\n\nShe turned the key in the ignition. \"Do you want me to give you a ride?\" Her tone was curt, businesslike.\n\n\"You don't have to. I mean, it'd be nice. But you don't have to.\"\n\n\"I'll give you a ride,\" she said.\n\nChris appreciated the gesture. Things had soured a bit, but maybe the night wouldn't end on a completely abysmal note. She didn't have to give him a ride, but she was willing to do it. That counted for something in the boy's mind. Even if his fixation on her was gone, there was a slim chance, Chris thought, they might end up liking each other a little bit after this.\n\nSo not a total loss, then, this trip to the Offices of M. Coopersmith...a trip from which, in hindsight, Chris had wanted way too much.\n\n\"Thank you,\" he said.\n\n\"No problem. Just tell me how to get there.\"\n\nAs they pulled out of the parking lot, Chris began giving her directions to his house. While he spoke, he noticed that M. Coopersmith was still standing in the doorway of his office, watching them. The old gentleman raised his hand in a final wave, and then disappeared back inside. The door closed slowly behind him.\n\n3\n\nA few blocks over from the Offices of M. Coopersmith lay the poorest section of Summerville: a sprawling neighborhood called Brickman. It was a sad stretch of cityscape, replete with shotgun houses, poorly maintained trees, wild shrubbery, packs of feral dogs, and half-collapsed wire fences. And at the same moment that Chris and Samantha were departing the Offices of M. Coopersmith, two more travelers were arriving...with the same destination in mind.\n\nEven at twilight these newcomers, given their size and lack of concern over being detected, would have been easy to spot—that is, had anyone been around to notice. In the gloom of early evening they descended slowly, at once beautiful and terrible in appearance: gleaming, twirling, ribbon-like creatures that had dropped out of the sunset-tinged clouds moments ago and now drifted to the ground in a monstrous interlocking spiral. No doubt that, had pedestrians been present, a crowd would have formed to watch the extraordinary sight of the beasts reaching the surface. But the street onto which they sank was deserted at the moment, and it was a good thing too. For no human being who saw them, and did not flee at once afterward, would have lived to tell the tale...\n\n***\n\n\"I've forgotten my phone.\" As he spoke these words, Chris felt the back of his neck grow hot, flushed with embarrassment.\n\n\"Oh, Chris,\" Samantha groaned. \"Tell me you didn't.\"\n\nAgain the boy rifled through his pants pockets, but knew it wasn't there.\n\n\"I don't have it,\" he said, unable to keep the despair out of his voice. The iPhone was an expensive device. If he had lost it, he was going to take a major ass-chewing when he got home. Even worse, he wasn't getting a replacement phone. Worse still, he had all kinds of text messages on the thing right now, and whoever found the phone was bound to see them. But absolute worst of all, while Chris had text messages from many friends and even some girls, it would be easy for the same nosy person to see that the single largest exchange of text messages had been between Chris...and his mom.\n\nThey were \"mom-type\" messages too: When was he coming home? Here's what they were having for dinner tonight. Had he taken out the garbage that morning? He had left his dirty clothes on the bathroom floor again. Love you, baby.\n\nYes, mom messages, there for the world to see. He would never be able to show his face in public again.\n\nOnly a few minutes into their drive Chris had felt strangely lighter, less weighed down. He didn't realize at first what he was missing, just that he had less gear on his body than normal.\n\nAnd then it hit him. He reached into his pockets and clawed at emptiness.\n\nSo the slight improvement in the mood of the Mustang's cabin was now gone. Samantha was mad, he could tell. And no doubt she wanted him to be able to tell.\n\n\"I forgot it,\" he blathered. \"I'm sorry. I must have set it down in Coopersmith's office while we were talking. That's the only place it could be.\"\n\nSamantha shook her head. \"I can't believe this.\"\n\n\"Look, just stop the car and let me out here. I'll walk back to Coopersmith's office and get it. Then I'll walk home afterwards.\"\n\n\"That's stupid, Chris. It's after dark. You don't need to be walking the streets of downtown Summerville after dark.\" Then, her tone calibrated to show maximum irritation, she growled, \"I'll take you.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry,\" Chris repeated after a moment.\n\n\"No, it's fine,\" Samantha said as she pulled into the parking lot of the local Hardees to turn around. Of course, she had made it obvious that things were not fine. Not remotely.\n\nAnd, of course, night was falling fast.\n\n***\n\nIt was almost dark by the time they returned to the Offices of M. Coopersmith. Chris clambered out of the car and went to the front door, knocked, got no answer. He knocked again and still got no answer. Expression pitiful, he looked back at Samantha, waiting for him in the idling car with the windows up and the radio playing. She saw him and rolled her window down.\n\n\"Is he not there?\" she called out.\n\nChris shook his head. \"No. He must have gone home.\"\n\n\"Maybe you can get it tomorrow.\"\n\n\"But he won't be here tomorrow,\" Chris whined, and then he heard the door unlocking for the second time today.\n\nWhat a relief, the boy thought.\n\nM. Coopersmith poked his head out, smiled down at the distraught teenager.\n\n\"Why hello, there,\" he boomed. \"Back again for another visit?\"\n\n\"I think I left my phone here,\" Chris said meekly, \"in your office.\"\n\n\"Ah! Well, come right in,\" said M. Coopersmith, opening the door fully and stepping aside for Chris to enter. \"We'll find it.\"\n\n\"I'm really sorry to bother you like this,\" a sheepish Chris said as he came into the lobby.\n\n\"You're not bothering me at all,\" M. Coopersmith assured the boy. Together they went back into the office, to have a look round.\n\n***\n\nSamantha adjusted the radio dial, settling on Summerville's local Top 40 Station. Then she leaned back and sighed.\n\n\"Hurry up, you idiot,\" she mumbled, glaring at the office.\n\n***\n\nTo his great joy, Chris spotted the phone the instant he set foot inside the back office, sitting right there on the table where had left it. He snatched the phone up, let out a great relieved sigh.\n\nM. Coopersmith came up behind him. \"Find it?\"\n\nChris turned. \"Yes, sir, this is it.\"\n\n\"I wish I had noticed it before you left.\"\n\n\"No, that's okay. It's my fault. I should have been more careful. I was just...stupid.\"\n\n\"Everybody loses things,\" M. Coopersmith said. \"We're only human.\"\n\n***\n\n\"What's taking so long?\" Samantha wondered aloud. She switched off the radio, then the car, and got out. Either the phone was in there or it wasn't. And since the phone was almost certainly in there, what was the holdup?\n\nMaybe Chris and M. Coopersmith had gotten to talking, with M. Coopersmith recounting yet another boring anecdote about Chris' grandfather Bertie or Herby or whatever the guy's name was. If so, she wanted their conversation ended now, or else M. Coopersmith could be responsible for taking Chris home, which would be fine with her. She'd had enough of this child.\n\nUncomfortable with the gloom and the sense of desertedness here in downtown Summerville tonight, she made her way quickly toward the front door.\n\n***\n\n\"Well, Christopher, once again I enjoyed meeting you and your partner tonight,\" said M. Coopersmith as he walked the boy back out into the lobby. \"Samantha, was it?\"\n\n\"Yes, sir.\"\n\n\"I always like to meet promising young people. That's the reason I force all of you to come out here. It's selfish of me, but I just can't help myself.\"\n\n\"We don't mind,\" Chris assured him. \"We go pretty much anywhere for money.\"\n\n***\n\nHalfway to the door, Samantha heard a sound.\n\nWas it a whisper? No.\n\nNot a whisper, more like a hiss.\n\nBut not a snake's hiss; it reminded her more of a person trying to imitate a snake's hiss, lips slightly open, air shunting over and under teeth...it lasted for a few seconds, then cut off abruptly, as if those same lips had suddenly sealed.\n\nShe stopped, glanced back into the deepening night.\n\nThat hiss, or whatever it was, had been close.\n\nKeep going, she told herself, and resumed her pace.\n\nShe felt a slight puff of wind against her cheek, enough to make her hair bounce. Then it was gone.\n\nWhat was that?\n\nAnother puff of wind, stronger this time, and coming at her from a different angle. From above her, it seemed. It was as if an invisible person had chopped his hand just inches away from her head...his very large hand.\n\nSamantha looked up.\n\nThen she screamed.\n\n***\n\nOn the other side of the door, in the lobby, Chris was just about to shake hands with M. Coopersmith again when he heard Samantha's cry. He jumped, but M. Coopersmith did not. Instead the older man immediately bounded for the door, with Chris, his initial shock overcome, following after. But the door burst open before they reached it and then Samantha barreled through, her face ashen, her eyes wild, into the arms of M. Coopersmith.\n\n\"Something's out there,\" she gasped. \"It's...I don't know what.\"\n\nShe disentangled herself from M. Coopersmith, who dipped around her and went on to the door. He peered outside, frowning with concentration.\n\n\"Are you okay?\" Chris asked Samantha as she tried to regain control of her breathing.\n\n\"Yeah, yeah, I'm okay. It just...I got scared.\" Chris thought she was on the verge of tears. He decided not to say anything more to her for the moment.\n\nM. Coopersmith looked back at Samantha. \"This thing,\" he said. \"Can you tell me what it looked like?\"\n\n\"No. It was so quick, I just...I just saw something and then I ran.\"\n\nM. Coopersmith closed the door. \"You don't suppose it was a large dog or something?\"\n\n\"No! No! It wasn't on the ground,\" Samantha protested. \"It was up in the air. It flew over me.\"\n\nM. Coopersmith's brow furrowed.\n\n\"It wasn't a bird either. It wasn't anything like a bird...\" And now she started to cry. \"I don't know what it was.\"\n\nChris noticed a box of Kleenex on a table across the room. He went over and got a few pieces for Samantha, brought them back. He was becoming deeply unsettled: the girl's distress, the sound of whatever it was she thought she'd seen...\n\nAnd there was something else that bothered him too: a subtle change in the demeanor of M. Coopersmith, who quickly locked the door and then took a step toward Samantha.\n\n\"My dear,\" he said gently. \"Please listen to me. I know you can't identify what you saw, but did it remind you of anything?\"\n\n\"What?\" Samantha asked, wiping her eyes.\n\n\"It's important that you answer me as best you can. Did it remind you of anything, this creature you saw?\"\n\n\"I don't know!\"\n\n\"An eel, possibly?\"\n\nBefore Samantha could answer, something heavy bumped against the door. M. Coopersmith spun round.\n\nThen a second bump, harder this time.\n\n\"Children,\" said M. Coopersmith, his voice controlled but tense, \"go into my office, please.\"\n\n\"What do you think it is?\" Chris asked, heart thrashing in his chest.\n\n\"I know exactly what it is,\" M. Coopersmith answered, his back to the kids and his eyes still fixed on the door. \"That's why I'm telling you to go to my office and wait for me there.\"\n\n\"Okay,\" Chris said, taking a step back.\n\nBut Samantha didn't move. \"Do you want us to call the police?\"\n\n\"No, thank you.\"\n\n\"Come on, Samantha, let's just go,\" Chris urged, taking her arm.\n\nShe jerked away from him, addressed M. Coopersmith again. \"Why not? Shouldn't we just—?\"\n\nM. Coopersmith cut her off. \"You would be killing whoever you called here. There's not a human being alive who's a match for what's outside this office right now. And if you want to survive this night, you'll do as I say. Now go!\"\n\nChris had heard all he needed to hear. They could hold the Question & Answer session later. Apparently Samantha was now on the same program, for this time she did not argue. The pair scampered back into his office. As they crossed the threshold of that office, M. Coopersmith called out, \"And stay away from the window!\"\n\nIn the office now, silence: just the sound of Chris and Samantha breathing heavily as they stood there, awaiting the next command from M. Coopersmith.\n\n\"What do we do?\" Samantha asked him.\n\n\"I don't know,\" Chris answered. \"I don't know.\"\n\nHe glanced through the office's single window, saw only darkness, and then back at Samantha. \"What Coopersmith said just a minute ago...did it make sense to you?\"\n\n\"Did what make sense?\"\n\n\"About what it looked like. When he asked if it looked like an eel. Did that make sense?\"\n\n\"No. No, it didn't.\" But her answer lacked conviction.\n\n\"Okay,\" Chris said, and once again turned his attention to the window.\n\nThirty seconds passed...then a minute.\n\nChris moved toward the window.\n\nYes, M. Coopersmith had said to stay away from the windows, but it wasn't as if he were pressing his face up against it. He would just move a bit closer, see if he too could catch a glimpse of whatever ghastly apparition had so frightened Samantha and so concerned M. Coopersmith.\n\nThat would be all right, wouldn't it? If he just moved a bit closer...\n\nThe vista beyond the glass began to take shape as he made his approach. First it was solid black. Then the shapes of trees became visible, and part of Tanner Street. Outside it was the same world, yes, utterly the same but for the absence of sunlight...\n\nThen the window became black again.\n\nThe world beyond the glass had been blotted out. Something had come between Chris and that world.\n\nSomething large.\n\nSomething airborne.\n\nSomething in its shape and movement, the boy realized as he briefly went half-mad with terror, like an eel.\n\nThe window shattered on impact with the head of the terrible beast. Glass sprayed the room.\n\nChris screamed. Samantha screamed.\n\nBut louder than both their screams put together was the monster's awful hissing as it tried to wriggle in through the hole it had just made. Its eyes were the size of baseballs, bulging yellow but for the presence of black diamond-shaped pupils, and set deep in a wide, gray, domed shape head around which a full-grown man maybe, just maybe, could have wrapped his arms.\n\nBut screaming wouldn't protect the two teenagers from this levitating horror, whatever it was. The instinct for flight kicked in with both of them, and Chris snatched Samantha's hand or maybe she snatched his; regardless, together they raced out of the office and into the hallway.\n\nThey didn't make it far though; instead Chris collided with M. Coopersmith as he came from the lobby. The boy was thrown back; the older gentleman did not budge.\n\n\"Ah, there you are,\" M. Coopersmith said. \"I heard the commotion. It looks like they've got us surrounded.\"\n\nThey? Chris thought, but didn't have the breath or strength, frankly, to ask.\n\n\"It's...\" Samantha began, but words escaped her.\n\nM. Coopersmith nodded. \"Hideous, isn't it?\" There was a second crash from his office. \"It'll be all the way through in a moment. Not to worry, though. I've got an escape route. Follow me, please.\"\n\nHe led them up the hall, to the door of what appeared to be a utility closet. He yanked open that door, reached inside and began tossing things out: a broom, a bucket, a mop...\n\nA third crash, more hissing.\n\n\"Mr. Coopersmith, hurry!\" Samantha cried.\n\n\"I'm hurrying, I'm hurrying,\" M. Coopersmith replied, still clearing out space in the closet.\n\n\"What, are we gonna hide in the closet?\" Chris demanded.\n\n\"Don't be silly, Christopher,\" M. Coopersmith said. \"We're going to escape through it.\" He stepped back, holding the closet door wide, and motioned for Chris and Samantha to enter. \"You two go ahead.\"\n\n\"In there?\" Samantha blurted out.\n\nM. Coopersmith grimaced. \"I'm sorry to have to do this,\" he said, \"but there's just no time to explain.\"\n\nHe grabbed the girl's arm and slung her into the closet. She cried out, but underneath that cry was a squealing, sliding sound; in seconds, both noises had faded to nothing.\n\n\"Now it's your turn,\" M. Coopersmith said, and before Chris could react he too had been snatched up and tossed into the blackness of the closet...\n\n...whereupon he found himself hurtling down a long metal chute about six feet in diameter, head-first with limbs flailing, moving too fast to correct or halt his descent, and howling the entire way.\n\nM. Coopersmith, back at the top of the chute, took a deep breath as he prepared to follow the two young people he had so unceremoniously flung toward safety. But he delayed just long enough to meet his adversary. There was something he wanted to say to it. Something he wanted it to know.\n\nThe beast floated out of his office, undulating through the air just as the aquatic eel undulates through water, followed by a second beast that had come in through the same broken window. They hissed at the sight of him. But M. Coopersmith met their hissing with a grin.\n\n\"Hah! You old monsters!\" he taunted. \"You're too late!\"\n\nThen, whooping, M. Coopersmith dove into the chute.\n\n4\n\nChris had only just picked himself off the ground and moved aside when M. Coopersmith tumbled onto the spot where the boy had landed. Without a word to Chris, now standing a few yards away, or to Samantha, huddled in a far corner with her knees drawn up to her chin, M. Coopersmith sprang to his feet and pulled a short metal lever next to the hole in the earth through which all three of them had just arrived. A steel door slammed down over the hole.\n\nThey were in a small room about eight by twelve feet in size. The walls, ceiling, and floor were composed of cold, moist, black dirt. There were no beams of support anywhere in sight, but neither Chris nor Samantha had noticed.\n\n\"There,\" said M. Coopersmith, slapping his hands together and admiring the now-closed entranceway. \"That ought to hold them for awhile.\"\n\nHe faced the two scared teenagers.\n\n\"Are you all right, children? Forgive me for being a bit rough with you just a moment ago. I only wanted us to move expeditiously. Discussing the matter would have slowed things down.\"\n\n\"Snakes,\" Samantha whimpered from her corner, \"giant flying snakes...\"\n\nChris, rubbing the back of his neck as he always did when under great stress, couldn't muster the ability to say anything yet. But M. Coopersmith seemed happy to fill the void.\n\n\"They remind me more of eels,\" their host said. \"But, yes, something like that.\"\n\n\"What is this?\" Chris finally managed. His voice was low and hoarse. \"What's happening?\"\n\n\"Well,\" M. Coopersmith began, obviously trying to choose his words with care, \"you might say a problem has arisen.\"\n\n\"A problem,\" Chris repeated numbly, \"has arisen.\"\n\nSamantha got up, came over beside Chris. \"What kind of a problem?\"\n\n\"A manageable problem,\" M. Coopersmith answered, \"easily handled, as long as we keep our heads.\"\n\nThey heard a thud at the metal door.\n\n\"That's them, isn't it?\" Samantha whispered. \"Those things...\"\n\n\"I'm afraid so. They know where to find us now, which means they've moved from search mode to pursuit. But not to worry, children: I have things completely under control.\" M. Coopersmith walked to the opposite wall and began scraping dirt with his hands. Another door soon appeared, about the size of a manhole cover.\n\n\"I anticipated this day,\" M. Coopersmith said as he worked, \"even if I wasn't sure it would ever come. As much time has passed, I was actually starting to think it wouldn't. But now it has. So I'm glad I was ready.\"\n\nThe last clumps of dirt had been removed. M. Coopersmith wrenched the door open and motioned for Chris and Samantha to climb through it. \"Don't worry. You won't have to do this many more times.\"\n\nThe teenagers hesitated at first, but a second thud against the chute door spurred them on. Saying no more, they dove through.\n\nOn the other side, the two found a long tunnel. They knew it was long because as far as they could see—up until the tunnel started to bend—sat small, sporadically placed lights glowing softly blue in the darkness. The bulbs were recessed within the walls, which, like the room they had just exited, were composed of damp dark earth.\n\n\"Caves,\" Chris mumbled as M. Coopersmith clambered through the aperture to join them.\n\n\"That's right,\" M. Coopersmith said, turning to close the door. After pounding it shut, he faced Chris and Samantha again, said, \"I'll bet you two didn't know there were caves on the Georgia coast.\"\n\n\"No,\" Samantha said.\n\n\"Well, there aren't! I made these caves myself,\" M. Coopersmith told them proudly. \"The high water table was a problem, but with the right materials and a little engineering know-how, I've been able to keep it at bay. What do you think?\"\n\nChris ignored the question, instead offered a question of his own: \"Could you please tell us what's going on and what those things are?\"\n\n\"Most certainly,\" M. Coopersmith answered. \"I'll explain while we walk.\" He took the lead as they started down the passageway. Chris and Samantha gave each other desperate looks, and then started after him.\n\n\"We're being chased by a pair of Sky Eels,\" M. Coopersmith said. \"That's roughly the English language translation of their name, which was given to them by another species called the Fere'n.\"\n\n\"What—?\" cried Samantha, in despair.\n\n\"A truly marvelous species, the Fere'n.\" Adopting a wistful tone, M. Coopersmith continued, \"It's always been regrettable to me that homo sapiens never had a chance to interact with them. Such gentle creatures, very artistic and creative, renowned for their great comedies. They looked a lot like that little bug we have here on Earth—what's it called again?\" He snapped his fingers. \"Oh, yes! The roly-poly! Only a mature one was about the size of a school bus. They also stood upright on their hind legs. And they had the most novel way of communicating too: they would drum their little feet up and down their bellies. That was how they formed words, you see...\"\n\n\"Mr. Coopersmith,\" Chris said, finding he was short of breath as he tried to keep up.\n\n\"Yes, Christopher?\"\n\n\"We just got chased by two flying monsters that were trying to eat us. I really think—\"\n\n\"They weren't trying to eat you,\" M. Coopersmith corrected him gently. \"They were just trying to electrocute you. When they bite down, they transmit an electrical charge through their fangs. That's how they kill.\"\n\n\"Oh, nice,\" Samantha said, running her hands through her hair.\n\n\"Okay, but they're still trying to kill us, right?\" said Chris, uninterested in the distinction.\n\n\"Of course they are,\" M. Coopersmith replied. \"But they're not going to succeed.\"\n\n\"How do you know that?\"\n\n\"Because I'll be protecting you,\" M. Coopersmith said as they rounded a corner. \"Protecting people and things is what I do. And I'm very, very good at it, if I do say so myself.\"\n\nBack down the passageway, from whence they had come, a series of loud thuds were audible.\n\n\"Can those eel-things get through that door?\" demanded Samantha.\n\n\"Eventually.\"\n\n\"Then shouldn't we be running?\"\n\n\"I don't know about running. A brisk rate of speed should probably be enough. All the materials I used in these caves are alloys designed especially to withstand attacks from Sky Eels.\"\n\n\"But where do they come from?\" Chris demanded. \"I mean, what are they?\"\n\n\"They're alien to this world,\" M. Coopersmith said, reaching out to pat him on the shoulder, \"just like me!\"\n\n\"What...?\"\n\n\"Let's get to the next door first. Then we can slow down. I'd like to have a couple of barriers between us before we take a breather.\"\n\nA second door came into view, and once again the trio climbed through it: Chris and Samantha first, followed by M. Coopersmith.\n\n\"You said something about aliens,\" Samantha reminded M. Coopersmith once he had shut the door and they were walking again, albeit at a much more comfortable pace.\n\n\"Yes,\" M. Coopersmith said. \"Neither I nor the Sky Eels hail from this world.\"\n\n\"I don't believe you,\" Chris said.\n\n\"Did you believe in flying eels ten minutes ago?\" M. Coopersmith asked him.\n\nGood point, Chris thought, and was silent.\n\nM. Coopersmith went on, \"Now, in fairness, the Sky Eels aren't really all that terrible in their natural state. I'd liken them to, say, the great white sharks of this planet's oceans. Enormous potential danger to the unprotected, but not driven by any sort of malignant intelligence. Unfortunately, I can't say the same about the pair that's after us. If you were to perform a dissection on one of them, you'd find a number of computer implants around the brain. These Sky Eels have been modified by artificial means to greatly enhance their intelligence and cunning. But worse than that, they've been programmed with a mission.\"\n\n\"What mission?\" Samantha asked him. \"To kill us?\"\n\n\"Not to kill us, necessarily,\" M. Coopersmith replied, \"although they'll gladly do so. No, their mission is to destroy the Remnant...just as my mission is to protect it.\"\n\n\"What's the Remnant?\"\n\n\"I'll show it to you,\" M. Coopersmith promised her. \"It's easier to comprehend if you see it for yourself.\"\n\n5\n\nThe two Sky Eels pressed their snouts against the chute-door. Currents of electricity rippled through their long, sleek bodies. The alien alloy that M. Coopersmith had used to construct the door was strong, but very few minerals could withstand an assault of this kind from the Sky Eels for long. And none of said minerals were present in large enough quantities to slow them down forever. Accordingly, the metal began to glow—and then to wither...\n\n***\n\n\"Let's take a rest,\" M. Coopersmith suggested.\n\n\"Can we afford to do that?\" Samantha asked. \"With those things after us?\"\n\n\"They'll be moving much slower now that they're in the caves,\" M. Coopersmith assured her. \"We have time.\"\n\nHe leaned up against the dirt wall, arms folded across his chest. Samantha and Chris plopped down on the ground. Both were exhausted.\n\nThen Chris looked up and asked of M. Coopersmith, \"How do we kill them?\"\n\n\"Oh, don't worry. I've got a nice trap waiting for them.\"\n\n\"How far are we from that?\"\n\n\"Not far at all. But our first priority is getting the Remnant. After that, we'll take care of the Sky Eels.\"\n\nChris gazed down at his knees. Samantha rested her head in her hands. Neither spoke.\n\n\"Boy,\" M. Coopersmith said after a moment's silence, \"you two seem awfully glum. What's the matter?\"\n\n\"What's the matter?\" Chris looked up again, and there was hostility in his gaze. \"What's the matter is that this is really scary, Mr. Coopersmith. It's really scary and it's really bizarre. We've got two gigantic flying snakes after us...\"\n\n\"I still say they're more like eels,\" M. Coopersmith interjected, \"but reasonable people can disagree.\"\n\n\"Yeah, whatever. Two flying eels and we've got a guy who says he's an alien responsible for getting us away from them. I mean—put yourself in our shoes, why don't you?\"\n\nM. Coopersmith smiled, as if he were amused by the boy's outburst. \"You're right, Christopher. You're absolutely right. I'm the one who has actual knowledge of what's transpiring here. You and Samantha just came to pick up a check for the Yearbook Committee. I owe you far more explanation than I've given you so far, don't I?\"\n\n\"Just get us out of here alive,\" Samantha said to him. \"That'll be enough.\"\n\n\"No, it won't,\" M. Coopersmith said. \"I can do better than that. I want you two to know what's at stake. So let me tell you. Right now, the three of us hold the future of an entire civilization in our hands. And that future is housed here, in these caves.\"\n\n\"I thought you said something called the Remnant was kept here,\" said Chris.\n\n\"Oh, but it is. The Remnant is that future. It's our future and our past.\"\n\n\"I don't understand.\"\n\n\"Me, neither,\" said Samantha.\n\n\"I'll explain,\" replied M. Coopersmith. \"An epoch ago, my species along with many others went to war against a great and terrible Enemy; an Enemy who had held within its hand, or something like its hand anyway, the power to destroy not only entire planets, but entire solar systems. Even the fabric of Time itself was vulnerable to this Enemy. Together we defeated that Enemy. But the price of victory was high. A number of planets were destroyed during the battle.\n\n\"Mine was one of them.\n\n\"And with it not only was a majority of my own race lost, but many other beings native to our world perished as well. Some were rendered completely extinct—among them the Fere'n I told you about earlier.\n\n\"We tried to evacuate as many as we could, but it was hopeless. There were not enough ships in the galaxy to rescue all our planet's inhabitants. A fortunate few of us were chosen to be saved, but we would carry two great burdens: first, the guilt of survival, which is by far the heaviest; and secondly, the directive to rebuild our civilization on a new planet. I frankly would have preferred to die.\n\n\"Instead, though, I lived. Now, with regard to second burden, how can we rebuild a civilization if the next generation doesn't know what that civilization was like? This, my young friends, is the task of the Remnant. It's the essence not only of our species, but of all the creatures that lived on that doomed world with us. Everything is there to re-construct what was destroyed by the Enemy; all, that is, but the lives lost. Those, of course, are gone forever.\n\n\"The Sky Eels now following us are servants of the Enemy. The Enemy itself is long dead, as are all the machines and monsters it brought into its service. All but two, that is, which went unaccounted for in our last, great conflict. We thought perhaps they too had been dispatched, but it seems we were mistaken. And the Sky Eels continue to operate under the same guidance as before, even if it's for nothing. They were charged with destroying us and they will work to fulfill that charge until either they're dead or we are. There's no other way it can end. And destroying the Remnant would be the equivalent of destroying us; ergo, they've come here to make that happen.\n\n\"Questions?\"\n\nM. Coopersmith glanced at Samantha, and then at Chris; he waited for them to speak.\n\n\"Can you prove to us you're an alien?\" Chris asked him.\n\n\"I could,\" M. Coopersmith answered, \"but I'm not going to.\"\n\n\"Why not?\"\n\n\"For starters, I won't be able to communicate with you verbally if I transform. Our kind doesn't have vocal cords and such the way that human beings do. And, besides, you may find my true appearance somewhat...unsettling.\"\n\nChris shook his head, but said no more.\n\n\"Anyway,\" M. Coopersmith went on, \"when you see the Remnant, I think your doubts about the truth of my story will be satisfied. I hope so, anyway.\"\n\nSamantha spoke this time. \"So what about when you find the Remnant? Are you going to move it to another place?\"\n\n\"Yes, but for the final time,\" asserted M. Coopersmith. \"You see, when the Remnant was first created, we agreed it would be better to hide it on a planet far away, with a single protector—a protector who would be perfectly blended into that planet's native population, so as to avoid attracting the attention of the Enemy or his minions. As it turned out, that far-away planet was the Earth, and that protector was me. We're quite fortunate that we finally won our war with the Enemy. We're less fortunate in that it takes time for the wandering star ships that have become our temporary home to reach the Earth...which means I've been waiting here, in bucolic Summerville, for almost a century to be picked up.\n\n\"Not that I mind, of course. It's a wonderful place, full of wonderful people. But we've found a new planet, nearby, that's suitable for non-disruptive colonization by us. If all goes well, they'll soon be retrieving me along with the Remnant, and off we'll go to start all over again.\"\n\n\"So when do they get here?\" Samantha asked. \"Your own kind, I mean.\"\n\n\"Tonight,\" responded M. Coopersmith. \"In about a half-hour, I would think.\"\n\n\"That's why you said you were leaving,\" Samantha said. \"Because you were...\"\n\n\"Going home,\" M. Coopersmith concluded for her, \"just as you and Christopher will be snug in your beds not long from now. Tonight all three of us are going home.\"\n\nHaving listened to Samantha, Chris thought, I guess she swallowed his whole story. I just can't. Maybe I'm the weird one here, but even after everything that's happened so far, I can't make myself believe what this guy is saying.\n\nA bang echoed from farther down the passageway.\n\n\"Oops,\" M. Coopersmith said. \"I think we had better get moving again.\"\n\n6\n\nThe passageway split, and split again. It was yet another thing that made Chris nervous. M. Coopersmith seemed to know exactly where he was going, but did he really? What if his memory of the caves he had supposedly built was now faulty and they ended up lost in here with no water or food, just the company of these Sky Eels? And then there was the overall confidence M. Coopersmith claimed to have in the three of them making it out of here safely. Was that confidence justified? Or was he merely pretending to be confident, as much for his own sake as for those of his two young companions?\n\nToo much had happened. Too much was happening still. The boy could not process it all.\n\nTwo gigantic flying serpent-like (or eel-like, whatever) beings were in pursuit of them; creatures, claimed M. Coopersmith, from another world.\n\nAnd the same M. Coopersmith had stated that he too was from another world.\n\nJust too much.\n\nM. Coopersmith stopped, looked up and down at the length of their present cave. \"It should be about here,\" he said, feeling the dirt wall on their right. \"Yes, right here, I think.\"\n\nOnce more, he began digging with his hands in the earth. It didn't take long his efforts revealed a plain metal door, glimmering in the soft blue radiance of the cave's light fixtures. The door was about two feet vertically, one foot horizontally. It looked almost like an ordinary wall safe, save for a small keypad with unfamiliar symbols affixed to the front. M. Coopersmith tapped on a few of those symbols and then turned around as the keypad began to blink. He appraised the two teenagers kindly. \"Anybody know any good jokes?\"\n\n\"No,\" Chris said.\n\n\"None?\" To Samantha, now: \"What about you, my dear? You've been awfully quiet lately. Do you know any good jokes?\"\n\nThe girl cut her eyes at him. \"I can't think of any right now.\"\n\n\"Well, let me know when you come up with something.\" M. Coopersmith scratched the back of his head. \"There's one I heard some years ago, about a man who walks into a bar with a duck under his arm. I wish I could remember the whole thing....absolutely hilarious. Does that sound familiar to either of you?\"\n\nNeither of the two kids answered. Chris let out a sigh; Samantha just looked at her feet.\n\n\"It goes something like this,\" M. Coopersmith went on. \"A man walks into the bar with a duck under his arm. The bartender says, 'Hey, where'd you get the duck?' And the man says...\" M. Coopersmith frowned. \"Oh, it's gone. I just can't recall.\"\n\n\"Can I ask you a question?\" Samantha ventured.\n\n\"Of course.\"\n\n\"Can we just get this Remnant thing out and go?\"\n\n\"Not quite yet. There's a lag between when you enter the code to unlock the safe and when it actually opens. It would cause a fatal shock if I tried to get into it any sooner. It's a nice little booby trap I created in case the wrong individual got here first. We have about eight more minutes before it's safe for us to go in.\"\n\nSamantha blurted out, \"You mean we've got to sit here and wait for eight minutes?\"\n\n\"Don't worry. I'm keeping time in my head,\" M. Coopersmith replied. \"It won't take long.\"\n\n\"It won't take long before those Sky Eels get here either,\" snapped Chris.\n\nM. Coopersmith cocked his head. \"Yes. That does add a bit more urgency, doesn't it?\"\n\n\"We're all gonna die,\" Samantha moaned.\n\nM. Coopersmith threw up his hands in exasperation. \"No, we're not,\" he snapped. \"We're going to be just fine. And really, Samantha, I wish you'd try to enjoy yourself a little more.\"\n\n\"Enjoy myself?\" Samantha squeaked, aghast at his words.\n\n\"Yes. You're taking all this way too seriously.\"\n\n\"But those things are trying to kill us!\"\n\n\"That's true.\"\n\n\"How can I not take that seriously?\"\n\n\"You should take it seriously. What I said is that you're taking it too seriously. You're so wrapped up in staying alive that you've forgotten to appreciate being alive. We've made it this far, haven't we?\" He rubbed his chin. \"You know, there's a wonderful English-language phrase I'm trying to think of to say to you. Just a moment—it'll come to me. Ah, yes, I remember it now: 'Lighten up.'\"\n\n\"Lighten...lighten up?\"\n\n\"Yes, lighten up. Try to enjoy the adventure.\"\n\n\"There's another English language phrase I'd like to say to you,\" Chris told M. Coopersmith. \"It's two words also.\"\n\n\"Really? What is it?\"\n\nChris sighed. \"Just forget it.\"\n\n\"I'm not sure if I understand the relevance of that one,\" M. Coopersmith mused. \"Besides, isn't that three words?\"\n\n\"Okay, here's a phrase, Mr. Coopersmith,\" Chris said, his patience gone. \"'You're crazy.' How do you like that one? This isn't an adventure. This is a nightmare. Don't you realize we could all get killed tonight?\"\n\n\"We could all survive too.\"\n\n\"Yeah, well, what's more likely?\" Chris retorted. \"It's one thing to be optimistic. It's another thing to be stupid.\"\n\nUnfazed by the boy's harsh words, M. Coopersmith answered, \"It's another thing still to embrace despair.\"\n\n\"I'm just being realistic.\"\n\n\"What you're doing, Christopher, is acting like a condemned man. Consider the situation rationally, why don't you? We have our lives; we have our wits; and, in a few moments, we'll even have a means to escape. Our chances of living, I think, are superb. But in the face of all this, what do you do? You shout at me about nightmares and dying. You're much too young to let your mind be filled with so much darkness. I know that darkness well. I know it far better than you do and far better, I hope, than you ever will.\"\n\n\"I don't know what you mean,\" Chris shot back. \"You're the most psycho-cheerful person I've ever met.\"\n\n\"Maybe,\" allowed M. Coopersmith. \"But I wasn't always, as you put it, 'psycho-cheerful'. In fact, when I first came to this planet a century ago, I was very sad. I had seen so much war, so much bloodshed, that I could hardly bear my own existence anymore. Every time I came into contact with another living creature, I was reminded of how fragile life was. And for that reason, I had no inclination to associate with any human being. All I wanted to do was sit in solitude and wait for the day when I would be able to return the Remnant to my own kind.\" As he spoke, his voice softened, and his militant cheerfulness began to recede. \"I was cold, you understand, bitterly cold. And I would blame my coldness on the war, but in fact the coldness came from inside of me. It was my own doing, and it's something I've observed in the human animal as well. It's perfectly understandable. Becoming cold is a means of survival in the face of trauma. But it's a terrible means. By your own choice, you grow numb to the sight of death and destruction. It becomes a simple fact to you, rather than some monstrous aberration. It becomes a thing as definite and fixed as the ground beneath your feet. And you hate it. You long to feel, but you can't—because you deny yourself feeling. You have to deny it, just to preserve what little of yourself remains. And so, when I first arrived here, I sat in isolation, watching from a distance as the human race mutilated and tormented itself. It was all so familiar. It made me wish we had chosen some other world, but of course that decision was never mine. And yet, over time, something happened. This little town called Summerville, so tiny when I arrived, began to spread out all around me. And, in spite of myself, I became curious about it. So, in the late afternoons generally, I began to take occasional walks around this new town: long, observant walks. And on these walks, I often saw the same faces over and over again, and these faces never failed to greet me kindly. Before long, I found myself trying to match their kindness. I came to enjoy seeing people, and I took great pleasure in the belief that at least some of these people enjoyed seeing me.\n\n\"I remember one night, back in September of 1908, when a little puppet show came to town with the traveling carnival. And, of course, I had no knowledge of what the show was all about, but I'll never forgot the way the children of the town loved it; how they laughed at all the antics onstage. I was struck by the way their little faces just glowed when they laughed. And, incredibly, I began to laugh with them. It was something I didn't even know was possible for one of my kind. Perhaps it isn't possible at all, and it was just through magic that I came by the gift. I don't know. All I know is that, one night in 1908, I learned how to laugh—and suddenly I began to heal.\n\n\"So now, Christopher and Samantha, I laugh all the time. I laugh every chance I get. I smile every chance I get. I fight back against the darkness and the despair. And I encourage the both of you to do the same. You may find it does more to keep you alive than anything else.\"\n\nBefore he could stop himself, Chris retorted, \"Did being happy keep those Fere'n things alive?\"\n\nHe was sorry the moment the question escaped his lips, but so filled with anger at M. Coopersmith—and generally the entire situation in which he found himself—that he couldn't contain it.\n\nM. Coopersmith frowned in response, but only briefly; then his face relaxed again, became serene. He answered, \"No, it didn't. But their works live on. And through those works, Christopher, the Fere'n survive. To this day—on planets all across my native galaxy—their plays are still being performed.\"\n\n\"I don't care about any of this,\" Chris said, turning away from him. \"I'd rather be alive than just have my plays performed or whatever.\"\n\n\"They had a wonderful convention, you know,\" M. Coopersmith went on, ignoring Chris' statement. \"Every story they told had to have a happy ending. No matter what happened elsewhere in the play, at its conclusion those who did wrong saw the error of their ways and asked forgiveness; and the ones who had been wronged granted it.\"\n\n\"I said I don't care!\" Chris shouted, still not facing him.\n\n\"Quarreling lovers reconciled. Friendships were repaired. Familial bonds were reaffirmed. The dead and the slain came back to life. The typical conclusion of a Fere'n play involved all of the characters sitting down for a banquet.\"\n\n\"Don't you ever shut up?\" Chris raged.\n\nBut M. Coopersmith was undaunted. \"They had a philosophy that real life was terrible enough, you see, so any work of fiction should end on a high and hopeful note. Now you can criticize the Fere'n for their lack of realism, and yet their works endure, because people are drawn to stories of hope. That's how they survive. And this is our story, Christopher and Samantha. Hope is how we're going to survive.\"\n\nA faint pinging noise emanated from the safe, like a microwave oven announcing that it had finished heating the Stouffer's macaroni and cheese. Christopher and Samantha watched as M. Coopersmith opened the door to the safe.\n\n\"Here we are,\" M. Coopersmith said, reaching inside.\n\n7\n\nWith great care, M. Coopersmith extended his arms deep into the safe. Then, gingerly, he extracted something. An item that looked like—\n\n—a sack.\n\nA plain, brown, cloth sack about the size of the one that held potatoes in the grocery store. It was tied up with a simple piece of twine on top, and bulging at the bottom.\n\n\"Wonderful,\" M. Coopersmith burbled over the little bag, clutching it to his chest like a newborn baby. Then he undid the twine and held out the bag to Chris and Samantha with the top wide open. \"Would you two sour pusses like to have a look inside?\"\n\nIgnoring the provocation, Chris and Samantha peeked over the rim of the bag.\n\nInside: a lump of fine, silver, twinkling sand.\n\nFor a full ten seconds, there was absolute silence in the cave.\n\nThen Chris sputtered, \"This is the Remnant? This is what the Sky Eels are chasing after?\"\n\n\"It most certainly is,\" M. Coopersmith answered proudly.\n\n\"But...it's a sack of dirt!\"\n\n\"It's very special dirt.\"\n\nChris placed his hands on either side of his head in disgust. \"It's a sack of dirt! We're risking our lives for a sack of dirt!\"\n\nM. Coopersmith closed the bag. \"Christopher, you need to calm down.\"\n\n\"But this is crazy. It's crazy! We're being chased by two giant flying snakes—\"\n\n\"I really think they're more like eels.\"\n\n\"Who cares? All I know is that we've got two alien monsters chasing us, and all for a sack of dirt. Oh, man—this has got to be the worst extracurricular activity I've ever had.\"\n\n\"Christopher,\" M. Coopersmith began, opening the bag again and extending it to him.\n\n\"What?\" the boy answered irritably.\n\n\"Put your hand in the sack.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"Because I think you might gain some appreciation of what my work has been about.\"\n\n\"You've already told me what your job was.\"\n\n\"I've told you in words,\" M. Coopersmith answered. \"But if you were to place your hand in this sack, I think you'd get a much better idea—just as I indicated before, if you recall. So put your hand inside and touch the dust with your fingertips.\"\n\n\"But that's alien dust. How do I know it won't poison me or something?\"\n\n\"I know human physiology very well. I've been pretending to be human for years, don't forget. Believe me, if I had any safety concerns over exposing you to the Remnant, I would never let you do it. You'll be fine.\"\n\nChris hesitated. \"I don't think I want to.\"\n\n\"Why not?\" M. Coopersmith pressed him. \"As you said, it's just a sack of dirt.\"\n\n\"Don't do it if you don't want to, Chris,\" Samantha said, touching the boy's back. Normally Chris would have been thrilled to have physical contact of any kind with Samantha Gibbons, but he was so emotional right now it barely registered.\n\n\"What's going to happen to me if I do this?\" he demanded.\n\n\"You'll see what was lost,\" answered M. Coopersmith.\n\nTen seconds, now, of pure silence.\n\n\"I'm not afraid,\" Chris said finally, although his voice was quavering. \"I'm not afraid of you, or what's in this bag, or anything else. Okay?\"\n\n\"I believe you, Christopher,\" said M. Coopersmith. \"Put your hand in.\"\n\nTaking a deep breath, Chris inserted his hand in the sack, felt the dust with his fingertips.\n\n\"I don't feel any—\" he began.\n\nThose were the last words he got out for the next minute, so overwhelmed was he by the cascade of images suddenly flowing through his mind.\n\nIt began with a vision of space: stars swirling into clusters, and clusters sucked up into galaxies, and the galaxies rushing past him.\n\nI'm flying.\n\nAnd as he soared through space he felt hollow inside. The hollowness began in his stomach, then filled his torso, bolted through his arms and legs, and took his head, fingers, and toes last. He was no more, now, than an eddy in the current of the star wind.\n\nA planet spun into view: a blue world, like the one from which he came, but a good deal bluer than the Earth, with only a few small brown continents peeking out beneath the sheets of tumbling white cloud.\n\nDescending now, faster and faster...\n\nHe dropped below the water and saw massive clear-bodied animals, something like jellyfish but larger, more defined, with tremendous multi-colored fins to propel themselves through the shimmering depths. They were like massive, transparent birds, only birds that swam languidly beneath the sea.\n\nAbove the water again, and flying over it towards land up head: a stretch of terrain upon flatter areas of which grew long swathes of massive gold trees with leaves painted violet and orange and white. Among these fine trees walked tall, eight-legged creatures with vaguely horse-like heads, and yet they could not have been mere animals, Chris thought, for they wore purple robes and sashes studded with jewels, and carried themselves with great dignity as they promenaded through the woods.\n\nFlying on, with the sun setting behind him, Chris came to a broad flat lake, and at the center of the lake soaked three great, long-necked beasts, similar to giraffes, only instead of being land animals they appeared entirely aquatic, with long smooth white bodies and powerful flippers, and atop the skinny necks were vast heads with soulful bluish-pink eyes, and they raised those heads in unison and together sang in a baleful chorus to the three moons now becoming visible above the calm waters.\n\nIt was dark now; stars glittered in the dark blue celestial firmament. Beneath the stars was a fire, and around that fire sat a ring of eleven huge insect-like beings, shell-backed but sitting upright so that their gray bellies were fully exposed—\n\n—Fere'n—\n\n—and they were drumming those bellies excitedly, little disc-shaped feet pounding up and down their abdomens. And Chris realized they were having a conversation of some kind, and somehow he understood all the things they were saying, and it was absolutely hilarious, their conversation, ribald and witty but never mean, and he found himself laughing so hard at the stories they told that he thought his sides would burst.\n\nBut then it was time to move on: to a great city with high gleaming towers and terraced gardens, a place of learning and debate, filled with libraries and classrooms and, looking more closely, blue-skinned, dome-headed beings well over eight feet in height who processed slowly and seriously through the boulevards of the city. He wanted to study these beings more, but suddenly, in a blast of white light, all of it disintegrated.\n\nAll of it: the city, the lake, the forest, the ocean, the many strange and marvelous creatures...gone in a second.\n\nHis final vision was of an asteroid belt spreading out along an ancient orbit. Where once there had been life, now there were only rocks scattered across a silent void.\n\nChristopher Taylor did something, then, that he would never have expected himself to do in such a situation. He did something that would have shamed him under other circumstances, whether others witnessed it or not.\n\nHe cried.\n\nThere were only a few tears, but they would not be held back. What he had seen was so beautiful, and so tragic, that he knew any effort to restrain, let alone hide them, would be wasted.\n\nM. Coopersmith pulled the bag away, so that Chris' hand fell from it, dropped to his side. With his connection to the Remnant severed, he once again found himself in the same dark cave, standing before M. Coopersmith and Samantha, his shoulders sunk, his eyes wet.\n\n\"It's all gone?\" he whispered to M. Coopersmith as he wiped the tears from his face, gradually got a hold of himself.\n\n\"Yes—all gone, except for this little bit of dust.\"\n\n\"Why? How could it happen?\"\n\n\"I don't know,\" said M. Coopersmith. \"I've wrestled with that question for untold years. What can I say? The universe is a harsh place. It bestows life and retrieves it with impunity.\"\n\nSamantha once again put her hand on Chris' back, only this time she rubbed it instead. \"Are you all right?\"\n\n\"No,\" the boy said.\n\nM. Coopersmith had a guilty look on his face. \"That was cruel of me, wasn't it? I shouldn't have talked you into doing that. I apologize.\"\n\n\"No—thank you, but no,\" Chris said. \"You don't have to do that, Mr. Coopersmith. I'm not embarrassed. I don't care.\"\n\n\"I still ought not to have shown you all that.\"\n\n\"Yes, you should have. I'm glad you did. Samantha, do you want to see?\"\n\nThe girl bit her lip. \"I don't know.\"\n\n\"I think you should see it,\" Chris advised her.\n\n\"I'm scared, though.\"\n\n\"Don't be. It's not scary. It's wonderful. It's sad, but it's wonderful too.\"\n\n\"You promise?\"\n\n\"I promise.\" He looked at M. Coopersmith. \"Go ahead and let her see. Please.\"\n\nM. Coopersmith re-opened the bag, held it out to Samantha; before reaching inside, she said to Chris, \"Hold my other hand.\"\n\n\"Sure,\" Chris said, \"absolutely.\"\n\nShe inserted her hand and saw all that he had seen.\n\nShe, too, cried when it was over.\n\nAnd she, too, was grateful for the sight.\n\n8\n\nThe Sky Eels had come much farther than M. Coopersmith would have expected in so short a time. They could sense the energies of the Remnant, detect its collected power, knowledge, history, and now, finally, its use. They had traveled across space packed inside a tiny metal capsule, ever tracking the distinctive energy signature of the Remnant, and understood, as much as their primitive brains would allow, that whichever planet they seized upon as the Remnant's home would have to be correct; for their transport capsule would be rendered useless for further travel once they emerged from it. But now they knew beyond all doubt that they had been correct: the Remnant was here, waiting for them to destroy it...and, along with it, all who stood in their way.\n\n***\n\nM. Coopersmith re-tied the little brown bag and hooked it to one of his belt loops. \"We have to go now,\" he said.\n\nAnd off they went.\n\n\"Mr. Coopersmith,\" Chris began after a few moments spent hurrying down the passageway, \"I want to ask you something.\"\n\n\"Of course, my boy!\"\n\n\"Out of all those creatures we saw, which one are you?\"\n\n\"Remember the big tall blue ones?\"\n\n\"That's what you really look like?\"\n\n\"Similar, anyway,\" said M. Coopersmith.\n\nWithin minutes they had arrived at what would be their next to last portal. M. Coopersmith once again yanked it open for Chris and Samantha to pass through first, only this time he remained on the other side. \"You two get on over and wait for me,\" he instructed them. \"We're almost at the surface again.\"\n\nChris glanced down and realized the ground had an upward slope, becoming steeper as the cave went on.\n\nSamantha said to M. Coopersmith, \"What about you, though?\"\n\n\"I've got my trap to set.\" He eyed her conspiratorially. \"Here's the beauty of it. These Sky Eels are some of the hardiest, most difficult to kill creatures known. But it can be done. Those little blue lights we've used to navigate are far more than just sources of illumination. In fact, that was never really their purpose. I built them to transmit energy, lots of it! There's enough in their power cells, I think, to kill those two Sky Eels dead in their tracks. And here's something that's almost as good. The Enemy designed the implants in their heads to self-destruct when the life functions of a Sky Eel cease. They disintegrate completely upon death. That was done to keep us from studying the technology the Enemy used to control them. I used to think it was a problem, but now I'm grateful for that feature. It means that when these two Sky Eels die, there will be no trace left of our Enemy at all. Its last foul vestiges will be wiped clean from the universe. Isn't that nice?\"\n\n\"That sounds great,\" Chris said quickly. \"I guess you should start working on it right now, huh?\"\n\n\"Good idea,\" M. Coopersmith said, chuckling when he realized Chris was trying to get him to hurry up and do what he promised, instead of just talking about it.\n\nM. Coopersmith disappeared back down the cave.\n\nWhen Chris could no longer see him, he turned to Samantha. She half-smiled at him in the gloom, but it was a nervous, fleeting smile, almost a tic.\n\n\"Hey,\" he said.\n\n\"Hey,\" she said back.\n\n\"Some night, huh?\"\n\nHe took a cautious step forward.\n\n\"Yeah,\" Samantha said, \"definitely some night.\"\n\n\"I really think we're going to be okay, though. I didn't at first...but now I do.\"\n\nShe nodded. \"I think so too.\"\n\nA long pause followed; then Chris said, \"I'm sorry about all of this.\"\n\n\"Why are you sorry? It's not your fault.\"\n\n\"Actually, it is. If I had just remembered my phone, none of this would have ever happened. To us, anyway.\"\n\n\"Yeah, you're right,\" Samantha agreed. \"It really is your fault.\"\n\n\"Thanks.\"\n\n\"You know what, though? I'm glad you forgot it, Chris. I'm glad we had to come back...because if we hadn't, you're right. None of this would have happened. I wouldn't have had the scariest, most amazing night of my life.\"\n\n\"Are you serious?\"\n\n\"I'm serious. I've learned so many things tonight, all in just the last hour. I've learned about aliens and other planets and other ways of being and feeling. And I've learned about me. And you.\"\n\n\"What have you learned about me?\"\n\n\"That you're brave. Strong. All that good stuff.\"\n\nChris felt himself blush and hoped she could not see it in the darkness of the cave. \"That's nice of you to say.\"\n\n\"It's the truth.\"\n\nChris thought, I guess I might as well lay it all out.\n\n\"Do you know why I joined the Yearbook Committee?\" he asked her quietly.\n\n\"No. Why?\"\n\n\"Maybe I shouldn't tell you.\"\n\n\"You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to.\"\n\n\"No, I want to. It's just that...if we don't survive this, I don't want to die with any secrets, you know?\" He paused. \"I joined the Yearbook Committee so I could meet you. There. I said it.\"\n\n\"To meet me?\"\n\n\"Yeah. I really liked you and I wanted to find a way to spend time with you. And this was it.\"\n\n\"But we didn't even meet until you joined.\"\n\n\"Well, you hadn't met me. But I had sort of met you. More like seen you around, actually. But that was all it took, I guess. I just wanted to get to know you better. Stupid, right?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Look, I know you've got a boyfriend and it probably wouldn't work anyway, so don't worry. If we live...\"\n\n\"Stop saying that. We're going to live.\"\n\n\"Yeah, well, either way, I won't bother you afterwards. I'll leave you alone.\"\n\n\"Chris,\" Samantha began, \"if you ignore me after all this, I'm going to be really mad at you.\"\n\n\"You are?\"\n\n\"Yep. Really, really mad. Because we're gonna be friends, Chris, you and me. You're right that I've got a boyfriend, but no matter what else happens, you're going to be a part of my life from now on. Do you hear me?\"\n\n\"Yeah.\" He averted his eyes.\n\n\"Look at me, Chris. Do you hear me?\"\n\nHe met her gaze and smiled. \"I hear you.\"\n\n\"Good. Don't forget it.\"\n\n\"All right!\" M. Coopersmith hooted as he climbed through the aperture. He had arrived so softly that his return gave the two teenagers quite a start. \"The trap is set.\"\n\nChris and Samantha came forward.\n\n\"And this'll do it, you think?\" Chris asked. \"This'll kill them?\"\n\n\"Oh, yes,\" M. Coopersmith promised. \"They'll be dead as doornails. And the Remnant will be safe, and I'll be on my way to my new home, and the two of you will be asleep in your beds by midnight. Things will be absolutely fine.\"\n\n\"Good,\" Chris said. \"So we can go now?\"\n\nA humming noise filled the air. Then the dark earth surrounding them began to vibrate.\n\n\"Yes,\" M. Coopersmith said to Chris and Samantha. \"I think that would be a very good idea.\"\n\n***\n\nThe Sky Eels halted. Up and down the length of the passageway the blue lights were pulsing, brighter each time, almost flashing. The creatures felt heat on their skin, first only uncomfortable, but growing steadily more painful...\n\n***\n\nThe merciless incline of the cave floor made the trio's walk difficult. M. Coopersmith showed no sign of flagging, but Chris and Samantha, frightened though they were, kept falling back. Each time it happened, though, M. Coopersmith would reach out and gently pull forward whichever one they were leaving behind, so that both kids stayed even with him.\n\nThe shaking of the ground was getting worse. Clumps of dirt began to fall around them.\n\n\"What's happening?\" Samantha asked M. Coopersmith.\n\n\"I've deactivated the systems that kept the caves intact. Within a few minutes they should collapse entirely on themselves. There's no need for them anymore, now that I've got the Remnant and we're on our way out. And it wouldn't do at all, you know, for people to be poking around in here after I leave.\"\n\n\"No, I guess not,\" Chris said, trying to catch his breath.\n\n\"Funny. It took me a century to dig these caves,\" remarked M. Coopersmith as they neared the end of the passage, \"but only a few minutes to destroy them. Good riddance, though.\" He chortled. \"Who ever heard of caves in coastal Georgia, anyway?\"\n\n***\n\nThe two Sky Eels were in agony. Both were attempting to plunge ahead, but the pain from the invisible energy field now saturating the caves made it impossible for them to navigate. One of the Sky Eels became blind, ran into the collapsing cave wall. It tried to extricate itself, but failed; black earth rained down on its writhing, shimmering body. Its partner was similarly disoriented, though faring better physically.\n\n***\n\nThe passageway terminated at a narrow ladder, going directly up. M. Coopersmith led Chris and Samantha to the base of it, and Chris noted that the ladder was about ten feet high, ending at an aluminum hatch above them.\n\n\"Go ahead, Christopher,\" M. Coopersmith ordered. \"Use that strong back of yours to get the thing lifted. Samantha, you follow once he's got the hatch open. I'll keep watch just in case.\"\n\nSuddenly there was a screech from farther back in the tunnel, followed by a loud blast. Chris, about to clamber up, froze.\n\n\"Hear that? One of the Sky Eels just blew up. That's one down,\" said M. Coopersmith, grinning. \"The other should follow any minute.\"\n\nChris nodded, began to climb.\n\n\"Any minute now,\" M. Coopersmith said again, softly.\n\nBut there was only silence.\n\nReaching the top of the ladder, Chris strained to push the hatch open. It took some doing, but he got it. He shoved the hatch off and thrilled in the ambience of the moon and the bracing chill of the autumn air.\n\n\"Come on, Samantha,\" he called down to her, and then hauled himself onto the surface.\n\n\"Where are we?\" Samantha asked as she came up the ladder.\n\nBut the bright moon made it easy to see.\n\n\"We're at the port,\" Chris told her, reaching down to give her a hand. She took his assistance gratefully.\n\nAfter Chris had helped Samantha get above ground again, the pair took stock of where M. Coopersmith's tunnel had brought them. It was the industrial park adjacent to the Port of Summerville, about one hundred acres that had been cleared for distribution facilities, manufacturing plants, and whatever other business ventures the city fathers could bring. About five hundred yards away, visible between piles of industrial components and debris, were the dark blue waters of the Summerville River, a grand body shimmering under the moon's gentle gaze on its way to join with the Atlantic. Behind Chris and Samantha lay railroad tracks, a few newly-built warehouses, and vacant, grassy land. M. Coopersmith's hatch had been secreted away in a vast bed of weeds.\n\n\"We must have come two miles underground,\" Samantha marveled, scanning the area. \"At least two miles.\"\n\nM. Coopersmith finally joined them topside. \"Ah!\" He took a deep breath. \"Well, looks like we made it.\"\n\n\"The other Sky Eel,\" Chris said. \"Is it dead too?\"\n\n\"It will be soon, I'm sure.\" M. Coopersmith stared up at the night sky. That sky was pregnant with starlight, no clouds in sight. \"Lovely,\" he said.\n\nChris glanced down at the hole from which they had just emerged and saw that it was rapidly closing in on itself, dirt filling the empty space. They had barely made it out in time.\n\n\"So it's over,\" he said to M. Coopersmith. \"Now we just wait for your friends to get here, right?\"\n\n\"That's right,\" M. Coopersmith said. \"It shouldn't be but a few minutes more. You two can even go home now if you'd like, although I do think you'd both enjoy seeing our spacecraft when it arrives.\"\n\n\"So what you're saying,\" Samantha responded, \"is that you'd like for us to stay with you until they get here.\"\n\n\"Very much so,\" said M. Coopersmith.\n\nShe looked at Chris. \"Want to?\"\n\nChris nodded. \"Yeah, I would. I've never seen a UFO before.\"\n\n\"Oh, believe me, you'll like ours,\" M. Coopersmith told him. \"It's pretty snazzy.\"\n\n\"Snazzy, huh?\"\n\nM. Coopersmith blinked. \"People don't say that anymore?\"\n\n\"I don't hear it much.\"\n\n\"Ah. Well, look, since we have a few moments, I thought there was something we could do to pass the time. That is, if you're both open to the idea.\"\n\nSamantha began, \"What exactly do you...?\"\n\n\"I had told you that, in our normal form, my species doesn't communicate the way that yours does, what with using vocal cords to shape air into words and so forth. But we do have a way of communicating with one another, and, if it all possible, I'd like to try it with the two of you. I've met a lot of people in Summerville over the last hundred years or so, but I've never made any real friends. I couldn't afford to, you see, because there was too great a risk of my identity being exposed. Now, though, it doesn't matter. You two know all the essential things about me, but here at the end, I thought maybe we could take a moment to get better acquainted.\"\n\n\"What does this involve?\" Samantha asked him.\n\n\"Yeah,\" Chris said, \"I mean, I have no idea what do you want us to do.\"\n\n\"When two of my kind communicate with one another, Chris, we don't do talk to each other. Instead, to put it simply, we become each other.\" He tapped his right temple. \"We join our minds together, and, for a brief moment, we allow ourselves to become a single being. I would like to join with the two of you, and to have you two also join with each other.\"\n\n\"But I may not want you guys to see inside my head,\" Samantha replied, voice cautious. \"No offense.\"\n\n\"I completely agree,\" said Chris.\n\n\"You needn't be concerned about that,\" replied M. Coopersmith. \"The joining isn't complete. You join with your partner or partners only as much as you allow. It works exactly the same way as carrying on a verbal conversation. You reveal what you choose to reveal and nothing more.\"\n\nChris considered for a moment. Then he said, \"All right. I'll do it.\"\n\n\"You'll keep everything confidential, right?\" Samantha said to Chris.\n\n\"Sure I will. What are you looking just at me for, though?\"\n\n\"Because Mr. Coopersmith is going to another planet. I don't have to worry about him telling all my secrets in school.\"\n\n\"You'll still have all your secrets after this, Samantha,\" said M. Coopersmith. \"Trust me.\"\n\n\"Okay,\" Samantha sighed.\n\n\"Come a little closer together,\" M. Coopersmith urged them, \"so I can easily reach both of you.\"\n\nNervously, the two teenagers did as they were told.\n\nM. Coopersmith then held out his hands. With his right hand, he cupped Chris' head; with his left, Samantha's.\n\n\"And now,\" he said, \"just relax.\"\n\nChris closed his eyes; he didn't will himself to do so, it just happened. He closed his eyes and fell asleep, even as he continued to stand there.\n\nThe words belonged to M. Coopersmith, but Chris heard them in his own voice, in his own thoughts: \"It's a long time that I've stayed here, a long time spent watching this town and its people, and I must say that at the start, as I told you before, I had very little interest in being a part of this place. But after a while all you people just wore me down. There was no need for me to buy that building. I did it for the sake of the parades. Bridgewell is a big street for parades in Summerville. The Homecoming Parades, the Memorial Day and Veterans Day Parades, and all of them I watched from the windows of my office, unless it was a year that ended in zero, on which occasion I would walk outside to watch it in person, waving a little American flag on the patriotic holidays, so that I could feel a part, in the smallest way, of the world around me, a world that was not my own, in a town that was not my own, yet a world and a town that had welcomed me, made me feel I belonged...\"\n\nAnd now Chris heard words that were his, but spoken in the voice of M. Coopersmith: \"I had a dog named Buster and he was my best friend, even though I had other kids I claimed to be best friends with, but they weren't my real best friends and I wasn't their best friend either. Maybe we were good friends, but the thing about Buster that made him my real best friend was that, no matter what, he was always glad to see me. Whatever I wanted to do, he wanted to do. And sometimes I was mean to him, or I ignored him, or didn't treat him well, but each and every time he forgave me, and was ready to be my best friend again. And when he had to be put down, I cried really hard in front of my parents and the veterinarian because I knew I had lost my best friend forever.\"\n\nSamantha's words now, but in Chris' voice: \"When I was a little girl I used to go to my grandmother's house and I loved to sit down in front of her dresser and put on her costume jewelry and some makeup and then walk around the house with my jewelry and makeup and let everybody see me and my grandmother thought it was the funniest thing but I actually thought I was a beautiful, like a princess or a queen, until one day I walked into the living room on Thanksgiving, when we had all gathered at her house, and it just so happened that my older cousin, Denise, who must have been about sixteen or so, told me I looked like a prostitute and I knew what that word meant and I tried to laugh but I started to cry and I ran out of the room and into my grandmother's room and my grandmother followed me and she dried my eyes and said, 'Darling, your mascara's running,' and then she hugged me and laughed and I couldn't help it but I started to laugh too.\"\n\nSamantha's voice now; again, the words of M. Coopersmith: \"When at last I leave this place, I will feel a great emptiness. I stayed human for so long that, in the process, I think a part of me has become human. I never fought that, and perhaps I should have fought it but it wasn't a fight worth winning. When I go home, I will be different from the others. They would call me an alien here on Earth, but will I not be alien, in some regards, when I am back among my own? Funny, how geography and those who inhabit that geography can affect, even shape, one who is not native to it. I am ashamed to say so, but in some ways I fear returning to my own civilization.\"\n\nThe voice of M. Coopersmith; Samantha's words: \"A lot of times I feel like all I do is perform for other people. It's been that way from the beginning: first dance lessons, and then piano lessons, and recitals, and everyone telling me how good I did but lately I've started to think, 'Why?' Why did they make do all these things? Was it for me? Was it for my own good? Okay, maybe it was good for me, I don't know, but why so many things? And when do I get a break? I mean, now it's the drama club and the journalism club and the yearbook committee, but who is all this for? Can it only be for me, or was it just because my last name was Gibbons and a Gibbons girl had to be tops at everything and I was never supposed to have a choice, I had to perform, I had to excel and be as close to perfect as I could possibly be.\"\n\nAnd, last, Chris' words, spoken in Samantha's voice: \"What is it that I'm doing wrong? I feel like ever since I went past thirteen years of age everybody has been after me. It's not like I get into trouble. It's not like I'm disrespectful or mean. But whenever I do something wrong, no matter how small, I feel like people come down on me so hard. What did I do? I tried to be funny and maybe I said something I shouldn't have; maybe I don't want to go out and rake leaves, or make my bed as soon I get up, and suddenly I'm a juvenile delinquent. I mean, what is it about me? Is it the way I look, or talk? I'm just trying to make it here, okay? I'm just trying to make it.\"\n\nM. Coopersmith removed his hands from the heads of the two teenagers. Chris opened his eyes, saw Samantha open hers as well. He looked at M. Coopersmith.\n\n\"How was it?\" M. Coopersmith asked them.\n\n\"Different,\" Chris said.\n\n\"Strange,\" Samantha replied. \"But...not bad.\" She looked at Chris, smiled at him. \"Not bad at all.\"\n\n\"Good,\" said M. Coopersmith. \"I thought it would be helpful for all of us to get to know each other a little better, especially the two of you.\"\n\n\"Why us?\" Samantha asked him.\n\nM. Coopersmith shifted on his feet, put his hands behind his back. \"I'm going to say something completely inappropriate,\" he said.\n\n\"I'm not sure if I want to hear this,\" Samantha said.\n\n\"Me neither,\" Chris seconded.\n\n\"No, it's nothing bad. It's just that I eavesdropped on your conversation earlier and I actually think the two of you would make a lovely couple, if you just got a little more familiar with each other. The heck with being friends.\" He tickled Chris' chin. \"I mean, look at this face!\"\n\nChris jerked his head away from M. Coopersmith's hand, but he found himself chuckling afterward at this odd and exuberant alien, so human yet so not human. He looked at Samantha and saw that she was smiling too, at both of them.\n\n\"I'll think about it,\" she told M. Coopersmith.\n\n\"Good. That's all I can ask.\"\n\nSuddenly the ground jerked beneath their feet: a sharp, violent tremor.\n\n\"Was that the caves still falling in?\" Chris asked M. Coopersmith.\n\n\"No. That would have been over by now.\"\n\n\"So what is it, then?\"\n\nAnother tremor.\n\nSomething bad was happening. Chris could tell by the grim look on M. Coopersmith's face.\n\n\"I'm afraid I might have been a little too optimistic about my trap,\" said M. Coopersmith. \"I didn't want to say anything before, but in the back of my mind I was concerned there might have been some deterioration in the power cells. I still thought there would be enough to kill both of them, but, apparently, I only got one. And now it's burrowing its way to the surface, which means I'll have to deal with it...directly, let's say.\"\n\nChris' mouth opened, but it was Samantha who spoke first: \"So now what do we do?\"\n\nM. Coopersmith untied the bag that held the Remnant. \"Take this and run to the bank of the river. Our ship will be here soon. In the meantime, I'll handle the Sky Eel.\"\n\n\"What if your people think we're hostile?\" Chris asked him. \"Like we're trying to destroy the Remnant instead of protect it?\"\n\n\"They won't think that,\" M. Coopersmith replied. \"They can detect hostility and warmth and a million other emotions in human beings. You'll be fine.\"\n\n\"What about you?\"\n\n\"I'll be fine too,\" said M. Coopersmith. \"Now hurry on, both of you. I'll catch up as soon as I can.\"\n\nChris and Samantha, who held the bag close to her chest, turned to run. But just as they started off, M. Coopersmith called out, \"Children?\"\n\nThey stopped, looked back at him.\n\nM. Coopersmith bowed to them, a wide grin on his face. \"Thank you both,\" he said, \"for a splendid evening.\"\n\nChris and Samantha, despite their fear, found themselves grinning back at M. Coopersmith. Then, for the third time, they felt the earth move beneath them, and once more took off running; took off running through a maze of scrap metal, steel pilings, lumber, and discarded railroad ties on toward the Summerville River, with its vast waters shining darkly in the moonlight.\n\n9\n\nHad Chris or Samantha looked back they might have noticed that, as soon as they were off, M. Coopersmith's broad smile vanished. But that was only the beginning of the change that took place in his appearance. Turning away, he prepared to set aside the visage of M. Coopersmith, a mask he had worn for so long it felt almost—but not quite—like it was the real him. He had delayed transforming until now, but in order to do battle properly with the Sky Eel, he could no longer wait. All the while keeping his eyes trained on the patch of ground from which he expected the Sky Eel to emerge, M. Coopersmith allowed his human guise to dissipate. His legs and torso expanded, lengthened, until he stood more than eight feet in height; his skin darkened from white to pale blue; his thumb, middle, and index fingers combined to form a single digit, as did his pinkie and ring fingers. His clothing melted into armor of a slightly darker shade than his skin; an armor that was, in fact, organic to his tremendous body. His face narrowed even as his head enlarged to triple the size of a man's, in the process becoming domed rather than round; his eyes widened and blackened over, turning opaque; his mouth shrank to a tiny—and, in fact, non-functional—slit.\n\nAnd now, he thought, for the best part.\n\nFrom the joints of his elbows two long blades extended, curving around so that they ran parallel to his forearms and out past his hands, to end in sharp hooked tips. These blades, like the armor, were in fact a part of the alien's body. The skeletons of creatures such as M. Coopersmith were not kept wholly inside, like the mammals of Terra, nor outside, like the planet's insects, but instead were borne as a combination of the two, interlocking and blending with the hard blue flesh, sometimes exposed, sometimes not.\n\nLike the Sky Eels, M. Coopersmith and his kind were able to produce a powerful internal voltage. The only difference was that a Sky Eel administered the lethal energy through its jaws; for M. Coopersmith, it would be his elbow blades.\n\nNow, transformation complete, he waited.\n\nM. Coopersmith had not said so before, but he had an additional reason for staying in human form until the last minute. He had developed a set of personality traits as a human being that did not carry over to his true self. His desire to protect both the Remnant and the two young humans with him would have remained intact, but his expression of that desire would have been different, rougher, colder. Not good for dealing with young humans—though for a Sky Eel, perfect.\n\nThe ground shook.\n\nIt was almost here...\n\n***\n\nChris and Samantha hurried toward the five-acre expanse that had been cleared along the Summerville River. Glancing back, they could no longer see M. Coopersmith, as their view was blocked by the cast-off materials of industry.\n\nPanting, Chris set down the Remnant.\n\n\"I hope this is the right place,\" he said to Samantha.\n\n\"Me too.\"\n\n***\n\nThe Sky Eel exploded from the earth in a whirlwind of dirt and torn roots, and the reaction of M. Coopersmith, armored alien warrior, was different from the one he would have had as M. Coopersmith, genteel Southern businessman. The present M. Coopersmith was glad to see the monster, thrilled even. He had yearned to kill a Sky Eel for a very long time now, almost as far back as he could remember, and disposing of it by means of a trap, as he had done with the other Sky Eel, brought only the barest satisfaction.\n\nBut to kill one personally...that would be superb.\n\nLimited in its faculties, the Sky Eel nevertheless recognized its quarry had taken on a new and fearsome visage. It also detected that the Remnant was farther out, and so it bolted into the sky, keen to avoid a confrontation with this far more formidable version of M. Coopersmith.\n\nBut it could not. Effortlessly, M. Coopersmith leapt a good one hundred feet into the air, meeting the Sky Eel in cold, empty black space, and slashed it across its snout with the sharp appendage arcing from his right elbow. The damage inflicted was twofold: physical injury, plus a tremendous shock.\n\nAnd an effective attack, too; the Sky Eel, shrieking, plunged to the ground. M. Coopersmith landed on top of it, went on to inflict a series of strikes upon the monster.\n\nAnd as he did this, he remembered.\n\nHe remembered the terraced gardens of his homeworld.\n\nHe remembered the great old warriors who had trained him when he was young.\n\nHe remembered the young warriors who had been his cherished friends.\n\nHe remembered that hardly any of those warriors, young or old, lived now, and that the terraced gardens of his homeworld were bits of sand floating in space.\n\nHe remembered legions of Sky Eels spilling down from the skies, overwhelming the tiny garrison that had represented his people's last outpost of resistance.\n\nHe remembered the shame of retreating before those legions.\n\nHe remembered the rage he felt at his own helplessness; the guilt of having survived the onslaught when so many others had not; he remembered vowing revenge for the atrocities of the Great Enemy that he could not bring himself to name even now, because to do so was to cause him a physical revulsion so great it bordered on pain.\n\nHe remembered watching his planet, the repository of all his history, the only home he had ever known, explode into a trillion barren fragments. He remembered wishing he had been on it when it was obliterated, and cursing those elders of his race who had chosen for him to be among the few who survived.\n\nRemembering all of this, he struck the Sky Eel again and again and again. And with every blow he honored that which he had lost.\n\n***\n\nChris and Samantha heard the Sky Eel's screeching, the crackling noises; they saw flashes from the ground rising into the night sky.\n\n\"What's happening?\" Samantha whispered.\n\n\"I don't know,\" Chris said.\n\n***\n\nThe Sky Eel's jaws closed on M. Coopersmith's right leg, and too late M. Coopersmith realized his error: he had allowed himself to enjoy the fight too much; had reveled in the sweetness of the monster's howls of alarm, of suffering, to the point that he had forgotten how dangerous and powerful it still was. So doing, he had given it the opportunity to inflict some damage of its own. His hardy alien constitution preserved him from a charge of energy that would have been sufficient to kill a hundred human beings, but just barely. He staggered, knocked the Sky Eel away, but it charged him and bit down again, this time on his shoulder.\n\n***\n\nChris looked up at the sky. \"Come on,\" he urged. \"Where are y'all? Come on.\"\n\n***\n\nThe tide had turned. M. Coopersmith was on his knees, still grappling with the Sky Eel, but he had received too many injuries in the last few moments to continue the fight successfully. Bite marks from the Eel riddled his vast body, yet these hadn't hurt him badly; rather, it was the multiple shocks he had received. He was disoriented, weakening fast. He could not mount an effective defense, let alone offense. And the Sky Eel sensed its advantage, hitting him with yet another bite, this time to the base of his neck. M. Coopersmith's tiny mouth froze in a silent \"O.\"\n\n***\n\n\"What if they don't come?\" Samantha said.\n\n\"Don't say that,\" Chris told her, desperately scanning the night sky. \"They've got to. They've got to.\"\n\nSamantha clutched his arm. \"Chris,\" she said. Her voice was very small. \"Look...\"\n\nAnd Chris looked, in the direction that she was looking, back in the direction they had come from, he looked and saw—\n\n—the Sky Eel.\n\nIt was burned and gashed and sliced open in a dozen places, and yet it was as frightening in appearance as ever, perhaps even more so. It spiraled toward them, hissing its dreadful hiss, its eyes wild with pain, with madness.\n\nNeither Chris nor Samantha could move. Instinctively they realized there was no point. They could not run from it. Even if they handed over the Remnant, it would still kill them, just as it had no doubt killed M. Coopersmith.\n\nHe failed, Chris thought as the Sky Eel loomed over them. He couldn't protect us.\n\nAnd now we die.\n\nWe die.\n\nAnd then a strange figure leaped high into the darkness behind the Sky Eel, high into the night air. It hovered for a moment and then descended, gravity hurtling it down, faster and faster, with terrible blades extending from both arms at the elbows, and the right blade trained directly on the back of the Sky Eel's head. Now Chris and Samantha dropped to the ground as that blade plunged into the Sky Eel's skull, splitting it in two, with the blade protruding grotesquely from the mouth of the monster as it sank to earth with the strange figure who they knew without knowing was M. Coopersmith lying astride it, like Captain Ahab on the back of Moby Dick.\n\nThen: a flash of light, followed by a boom, after which nothing remained of the Sky Eel's corpse but ashes and a sickly green haze.\n\nChris and Samantha picked themselves off the ground. Behind them lay the Remnant in its sack, all but forgotten at the moment.\n\nA figure was emerging from the fast-dissipating haze: a small, stumbling figure.\n\nSamantha identified him first. \"Mr. Coopersmith?\"\n\nThey waited for a moment, unsure if they should come forward.\n\n\"Are you okay?\" Chris asked him.\n\nM. Coopersmith made no response, only took a few more steps in their direction, and then dropped to his knees.\n\n\"Mr. Coopersmith!\" cried Samantha.\n\nHe fell onto his back as they hurried to him.\n\n\"Children,\" he whispered as Chris and Samantha took opposite sides of his now-unmoving body.\n\n\"Just hang on, Mr. Coopersmith,\" Samantha said, taking his hand. \"Your people are coming. They'll help you.\"\n\n\"No, it's all right,\" M. Coopersmith told her. \"Just as I promised...\"\n\n\"Please, Mr. Coopersmith, try to hang on,\" Samantha urged him. \"Help is coming. I know it is. You just have to hang on.\"\n\n\"Tonight...\" M. Coopersmith began.\n\nHis eyes were dulling now.\n\n\"...we all...\"\n\nHis grip loosened around Samantha's hand.\n\n\"...go home.\"\n\nThat was the end. His hand fell from Samantha's and he lay still. He drew no breath; his eyes held no light; he was gone in a moment.\n\nBut Christopher Gerald Taylor of Summerville, Georgia, refused to accept this.\n\n\"Wait, Mr. Coopersmith,\" the boy pleaded, leaning down so that their faces were inches apart, \"don't give up so easy. Try to laugh. You said it healed you before when you laughed. So please, try to laugh now. I'll help you, okay? I'll help you laugh. I'll tell you a joke. A duck walks into a bar—oh, man. I've already screwed it up. I'll try again. A man walks into a bar carrying a duck. The bartender says to him, 'Hey, where'd you get that duck?' And the guy says...\"\n\nHis voice trailed off then, for suddenly M. Coopersmith began to change. His appearance was alien, but less so than Chris might have thought. The eyes were large, the forehead high, the mouth small...but there were many differences between the face of the being that had posed as M. Coopersmith and the alien face so often described by UFO abductees. There was wisdom in that face, to be sure, but also, somehow, deep kindness: the face of a compassionate, if alien, philosopher-king. Chris could not understand why M. Coopersmith had not shown him this face before. There was nothing the least bit startling about it. This was a good face, a noble face.\n\nIt was also the face he could hide so long as he was alive, Chris decided, which meant he was not alive anymore.\n\nAnd yet Chris urged the alien on in his mind, one last time: Laugh, Mr. Coopersmith.\n\nPlease, won't you laugh?\n\nBut there was nothing. They were kneeling beside a corpse. And still Samantha asked, \"Is he dead?\"\n\n\"I think so...yeah.\"\n\nBehind them now: light and heat, followed by a rush of wind. Almost in unison, Chris and Samantha looked back, and then up in the air.\n\n10\n\nWhere were you guys when we needed you? Chris thought as he watched the alien craft lower itself into the field.\n\nIt was a beautiful ship, triangular in shape rather than circular, about thirty feet in length, blue and gold with strange, hieroglyphic symbols running along its edges. It made no sound other than a low, soothing hum. It sank a few inches into the dirt and the humming stopped.\n\nA hatch opened on the side facing Chris and Samantha.\n\nHere we go, Chris thought. He looked down at the body of M. Coopersmith. Maybe we should run. What if they think we were the ones who killed him?\n\nBut somehow he knew they wouldn't think that.\n\nSomehow he knew the crisis was past.\n\nThis was just the mopping up.\n\nTwo beings identical in appearance to the body that lay before them descended from the hatch, then two more, and two more, and so on until there were fourteen such aliens. At last another alien appeared, with a single feature to distinguish it from the other beings: two gold bands down the side of its face, and another one across its forehead. It motioned to the body of M. Coopersmith, and immediately the phalanx of fourteen approached them. Chris and Samantha got to their feet, backed away as the aliens lifted M. Coopersmith off the ground, hoisted him onto their shoulders, and then turned to carry his lifeless form back onto the ship. The gold-banded alien—the Fifteenth, as Chris instantly deemed it—bent down and picked up the Remnant. Then it too turned away, started off behind them.\n\nChris had planned to keep his mouth shut. He had worked hard to do it. But he just couldn't help himself. He had to say something. He stared hard at the alien and called out, \"Hey!\"\n\nThe Fifteenth stopped, pivoted, and faced him.\n\nLooks like I really did it this time.\n\nBut Chris decided to keep talking anyway. \"Hey, listen to me. He died so you could have that.\" He pointed to the Remnant in the alien's arms. \"He died.\"\n\nThe Fifteenth appraised him dispassionately.\n\n\"I thought you should know.\"\n\nNow the alien was walking toward him.\n\nWhat did I just do? Chris wondered. Did I make it mad? What's it going to do to me?\n\nThe Fifteenth reached for the boy's head with its great hand. Chris flinched at first—and then he realized what was about to happen.\n\nGently, the alien cupped its hand over his head; as he felt the warmth of its palm against his skin, so too did Chris hear, in his own voice, these words:\n\n\"Thank you.\"\n\nThat was all.\n\nThe Fifteenth let its hand fall from Chris' head. Then it turned around and went back inside its ship. The hatch closed, and the craft began to hum again.\n\nTogether, Chris and Samantha watched it rise into the air. It lingered for a moment, high above them, and then zipped into space.\n\nAfter a few moments, still holding hands, they embarked on a slow shuffle back to the building—now dark and vacant—that they had fled in terror a mere ninety minutes ago. Of course, it was a much nicer trip this time, through quiet downtown Summerville with its glowing lamplights, clean sidewalks, and darkened storefronts: Crawford's Jewelers; Suzie's Sweet Shop; the Summerville Times; Barron's Fine Menswear; many others.\n\nOn the way, they spoke little.\n\nIn the days to come, there would be much excited talk in this fine old town about the strange mild earthquakes that had taken place tonight. Someone would report that a window had been broken at the now-vacated Offices of M. Coopersmith. Several others would report on a loud explosion heard that same night from the vicinity of the Port of Summerville. Then, of course, someone out fishing at night on the Summerville River would tell his friends he had seen a UFO land on the riverbank, but nobody would buy it because the guy in question was known for telling tall tales.\n\nAnd life would go on, yes, go on just like the stars that glimmered in the sky above; just like the moon that drew in the tides that, in turn, fed the vast saltmarshes gracing the coast of Georgia; just like the Earth that kept turning; just like the yellow sun, hidden now, that nourished and warmed and brought life to the forests and the plains of grass and the oceans stretching out below it.\n\nAll of it going on, going on...\n\nAs they prepared to cross Bridgewell Street, Chris glanced up at the night sky and thought: I never got to ask him what the M. in M. Coopersmith stood for. It was probably several different names, all for different times or different generations, just to keep up the illusion that it hadn't been the same guy for the last hundred years. Who knows how he pulled it off, all that time. He just did, I guess.\n\nSamantha's hand felt warm, felt good, in his. But for the moment Chris was lost in his own thoughts.\n\nAnd I think I understand now what the phrase \"Offices of M. Coopersmith\" really meant. \"Offices\" didn't refer to a building. It referred to the titles he carried: Protector, Warrior, Guide, lousy joke-teller, longtime resident, friend to young people and old people and everyone in between, even if they never knew it. Those were the real Offices of M. Coopersmith, not some old building.\n\nThey were almost there.\n\nBut I still wonder what the M stood for.\n\nChris glanced up again. It was clear enough for him to make out an arm of the Milky Way Galaxy gracing the sky overhead: billions of tiny stars, so faint they looked like celestial mist.\n\nI've got a suggestion, if anyone's interested.\n\nOnce more he looked straight ahead.\n\n\"Magnificent.\"\n\nChris and Samantha arrived at the crushed-shell parking lot of the Offices of M. Coopersmith. The pair had walked in silence for a while now, but as they came up to Samantha's car, she asked him, \"What kind of dog was Buster?\"\n\nAside from the dialogue that question launched, as well as the little bit of noise the two kids made as they got into the Ford Mustang to drive home, the only sound that could be heard nearby came from a small sign on the building's front lawn; swaying gently in the night breeze, that sign read, in plain black lettering, \"Offices of M. Coopersmith.\"\n\n***\n\nSo, then: how well do you ever really know somebody else?\n\nIt depends. With some folks you can learn all you need to know in a single night.\n\nJust ask Chris Taylor and Samantha Gibbons of Summerville, Georgia.\n\nThey'll tell you.\n\n", "meta": {"pile_set_name": "BookCorpus2"}}